11738	----	Proofreaders HINDOO TALES _OR, THE ADVENTURES OF TEN PRINCES_ FREELY TRANSLATED FROM THE SANSCRIT OF THE DASAKUMARACHARITAM BY P. W. JACOB STRAHAN & CO. 56 LUDGATE HILL, LONDON 1873 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. The Sanscrit work entitled "Dasakumaracharitam, or the Adventures of Ten Princes," though printed more than twenty-five years ago, has not, as far as I can ascertain, been translated into any European language. Many parts of it are written in such a turgid "Oriental" style, that a close translation would be quite unsuitable to the English reader. Such passages have therefore been much condensed; others, which are hardly decent--or, as in the speech of the parasite in the last story, tedious and uninteresting, have been omitted; but in general the original has been pretty closely adhered to, and nothing has been added to it. The exact date of the composition of the "Dasakumaracharitam" is not known. It is supposed to have been written about the end of the eleventh century, and was left unfinished by the author; but as the story of the last narrator is almost finished, not much could have been wanting to complete the work, and the reader may easily imagine what the conclusion would have been. Some of the incidents correspond with those of the "Arabian Nights," but the stories on the whole are quite different from anything found there, and give a lively picture of Hindoo manners and morals. Unscrupulous deception, ready invention, extreme credulity and superstition, and disregard of human life, are strongly illustrated. The belief in the power of penance, which was supposed to confer on the person practising it not merely personal sanctity, but even great supernatural powers, was very generally entertained among the Hindoos, and is often alluded to here; as is also transmigration, or the birth of the soul after death in a new body, human or brute. Sufferings or misfortunes are attributed to sins committed in a former existence, and in more than one story two persons are supposed to recollect having many years before lived together as husband and wife. Much use also is made of the agency of supernatural beings; for besides numerous gods, the Hindoos believe, or at least believed, in the existence of innumerable beings, in some degree immortal, but liable to be killed even by men, swarming in the air, generally invisible, but sometimes assuming a human or a more terrible form; occasionally beneficent, but more commonly injurious to human beings. At the time when the original work was written, India appears to have been divided into a large number of small kingdoms or principalities, the rulers of which are here termed "Râja," a word almost adopted into our language, but which. I have rendered by the equivalent and more familiar term "King." The numerous uncouth names, which cannot well be shortened or translated, will, it is feared, cause some annoyance to the reader. As many as possible have been omitted, and of those which occur a list is given in the Appendix, together with a few terms which seemed to require explanation. This will save the reader the trouble of, referring, when a name recurs, to the place where it is first mentioned in order to find out to whom it belongs. The Appendix also contains a few pages of a very close literal translation, which will enable the reader to form some idea of the nature and style of the original, and to see how far it has been departed from in the preceding pages. P. W. J. GUILDFORD, _December_, 1872. PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES. The vowel _â_, is always to be pronounced as in father. The vowel _a_, as in America, or as u in dull, i in bird, &c. The vowel _e_, always as a in cake. The vowel _í_, as e in cede, or ee in reed. The vowel _i_, as in pin. The vowel _ú_, as in flute. The vowel _u_, as in bull. Pati is therefore pronounced putty, &c. CONTENTS. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. ADVENTURES OF SOMADATTA. ADVENTURES OF PUSHPODBHAVA. MARRIAGE OF AVANTISUNDARI. FURTHER ADVENTURES OF RÂJAVÂHANA. ADVENTURES OF APAHÂRAVARMA. ADVENTURES OF UPAHÂRAVARMA. ADVENTURES OF ARTHAPÂLA. ADVENTURES OF PRAMATI. ADVENTURES OF MITRAGUPTA. ADVENTURES OF MANTRAGUPTA. ADVENTURES OF VISRUTA. LITERAL TRANSLATIONS. PROPER NAMES OCCURRING IN THE TALES. There was formerly, in the most fertile part of India, a city called Pushpapuri, the capital of Magadha, magnificent as a mine of jewels, abounding in every kind of wealth, surpassing all other cities in splendour and prosperity. The sovereign of this city and country was Râjahansa, whose armies were formidable with countless elephants and horses, whose glory was unsullied as the moon in a cloudless sky, or the plumage of the swan, and whose fame was sung even by celestial minstrels. Though a terror to his enemies, he was beloved by all his subjects, and especially by the learned and pious brahmans, who were continually employed in prayers and sacrifices to the gods, for the welfare of the king and his people. The queen Vasumati was worthy of such a husband. She was of high birth and of a sweet temper, and so great was her beauty that it seemed as if the god of love had formed her for his own special delight, by uniting in her single person everything that is most beautiful in the world. Among the king's counsellors were three appointed to the highest offices of state, men of great probity and intelligence, who had been long in his father's service and enjoyed his entire confidence. Their names were, Dharmapâla, Padmodbhava, and Sitavarma. The first of these had three sons, Sumantra, Sumittra, and Kâmapâla; the second, two, Susruta and Ratnodbhava; and the last had also two, Sumati and Satyavarma. Of these sons the last-mentioned renounced worldly cares and employments, devoted himself to religious meditation, and leaving home as a pilgrim, travelled into many countries in order to visit the holy places which they contained. Kâmapâla was of an opposite character; he thought only of present pleasure, frequented the company of gamblers and harlots, and roamed about the world seeking amusement and dissipation. Ratnodbhava became a merchant, and in the way of traffic made many long journeys by land and sea. The other sons, after their fathers' death, succeeded to their offices, according to the custom of the country. When Râjahansa had reigned some years, war broke out between him and the king of the adjoining country of Mâlwa, the haughty and ambitious Mânasâra, whom he marched to encounter with a numerous army, making the earth tremble with the tread of his elephants, and disturbing even the dwellers in the sky with the clang of kettledrums louder than the roar of the stormy ocean. Both armies were animated by equal rage, and terrible was the battle; the ground where they met was first turned to dust by the wheels of the chariots and the trampling of men and beasts, and then into mud through the streams of blood which flowed from the slain and wounded. At last Râjahansa was victorious, the enemy was completely defeated, their king taken prisoner, and all Mâlwa lay open to the conqueror. He, however, having no wish to enlarge his dominions, released his prisoner on very easy terms, and returning to Pushpapuri, thought only of governing his own kingdom in peace, not expecting after such generous treatment any further trouble from his ambitious neighbour. Though prosperous and happy in every other respect, the King of Magadha had one great cause of sorrow and anxiety--he had no son to succeed him. Therefore, at this time he made many prayers and offerings to Nârâyana the Creator of the World, who, having been thus propitiated, signified to the queen in a dream that she would bear a son; and not long afterwards her husband was gratified by the news of her pregnancy. When the proper time arrived the king celebrated the ceremony called Simanta[1] with great magnificence, and invited several of the neighbouring kings to be present on the occasion; among them was the King of Mithila, with his queen, a great friend of Vasumati--to congratulate whom she had accompanied her husband. One day after this, when the king was sitting in council with his ministers, he was informed that a certain venerable Yati was desirous to see him. On his admission the king perceived that he was one of his secret emissaries; dismissing, therefore, the rest of the counsellors, he withdrew to a private apartment, followed by one or two of his most confidential ministers and the supposed Yati. He, bowing down to the ground, said in answer to the king's inquiry, "In order the better to perform your Majesty's commands, I have adopted this safe disguise, and have resided for some time in the capital of Mâlwa, from whence I now bring very important news. The haughty Mânasâra, brooding over his defeat, unmindful of your generous forbearance, and only anxious to wipe off his disgrace, has been for a long time endeavouring to propitiate with very severe penance the mighty Siva, whose temple is at Mahâkâla, and he has so far succeeded that the god has given him a magic club, very destructive of life and conducive to victory." "Through this weapon, and the favour of Siva, he now thinks himself a match for you. He has for some time been strengthening his army, and will probably very soon invade this country. Your Majesty having received this information, will decide what ought to be done." On hearing this report the ministers consulted together and said to the king, "This enemy is coming against us favoured by the gods, and you cannot hope to resist him; we therefore advise that you should avoid fighting, and retire with your family and treasure to a strong fortress." Although they urged this advice with many reasons, it was not acceptable to the king, who determined to march at the head of his army against the invaders. When, however, the enemy had actually entered the country, the ministers succeeded in persuading their master to send away the queen and her attendants, and a part of the treasure, to a strong fortress in the forest of Vindhya, guarded by veteran soldiers. Presently the two armies met, the battle raged furiously, and Mânasâra, eagerly seeking out his former conqueror, at last encountered his chariot. Wielding the magic club, with one blow he slew the charioteer and caused the king to fall down senseless. The horses being freed from control, suddenly turned round, dashed off at full speed from the field, and never stopped till, utterly exhausted, they had dragged the chariot with the still insensible king very near to the fortress to which the queen had retreated. Meanwhile, some of the fugitives from the battle, having reached the fortress, told the queen what had happened, and she, overwhelmed by grief at the death of her husband, determined not to survive him. Perceiving her purpose, the old brahmans and faithful counsellors, who had accompanied her, endeavoured, to dissuade her, saying, "O glorious lady, we have no certain information of the king's death: moreover, learned astrologers have declared that the child to be born of you is destined to become a mighty sovereign, therefore do not act rashly or end so precious a life while the least hope remains." Apparently influenced by these reasons, eloquently urged, the queen remained silent, and seemed to renounce her purpose, but at midnight, unable to sleep, and oppressed by intolerable grief, she rose up, and evading her sleeping attendants and the guards outside, went into the forest, and there, after many passionate lamentations and prayers that she might rejoin her beloved husband, she formed a rope by twisting a part of her dress, and was preparing to hang herself with it from the branch of a tree, very near to the place where the chariot was standing concealed by the thick foliage. Just then the king, revived by the cool night wind, recovered consciousness, and hearing his wife's voice, softly called her by name. She, hardly believing her senses for joy, cried out loudly for help, and soon brought to her assistance some of the attendants, who carried him gently into the fort, where his wounds were dressed and found not to be dangerous. After a short time, more of those who had escaped joined the king; and when he was sufficiently recovered, the charming Vasumati, instructed by the ministers, said to him, "All your dominions are lost except this fortress; but such is the power of fate; prosperity, like a bubble on the water, or a flash of lightning, appears and disappears in a moment. Former kings, Râmachandra and others, at least as great as yourself, were deprived of their kingdoms, and suffered for a long time the hardships of adversity; yet, through patience and perseverance and the will of fate, they were at last restored to all their former splendour. Do you therefore imitate them, and, laying aside all anxiety, devote yourself to prayer and meditation." To this advice the king gave ear, and went to consult a very celebrated rishi, Vâmadeva, intending, under his directions, to engage in such penance as might lead to the accomplishment of his wishes. Having been well received by the holy man, he said to him: "O father, having heard of your great piety and wisdom, I have come hither for guidance and help in a great calamity. Mânasâra, King of Mâlwa, has overcome me, and now holds the kingdom which ought to be mine. I will shrink from no penance which you shall advise, if by such means I may obtain the favour of the gods, and be restored to my former power." Vâmadeva, well acquainted with all past, present, and future events, thus answered him: "O friend, there is no need of penance in your case; only wait patiently; a son will certainly be born to you who will crush all your enemies and restore your fortunes." Then a voice was heard in the air, saying, "This is true." The king, fully believing the prophecy of the muni, thus miraculously confirmed, returned to the forest, resolved to await patiently the fulfilment of the promise; and shortly afterwards the queen brought forth a son possessing all good marks,[2] to whom his father gave the name of Râjavâhana. About the same time also sons were born to his four ministers. They were named severally Pramati, Mitragupta, Mantragupta, and Visruta, and were brought up together with the young prince. Some time after the birth of these children, a certain muni brought a very beautiful boy to the king, and said: "Having gone lately into the forest to collect kusa-grass[3] and fuel, I met a woman, evidently in great distress. When I questioned her, she wiped away her tears, and told me, with a voice broken by sobs, that she was a servant of Prahâravarma, King of Mithila--that he, with his family, had gone to Pushpapuri, to be present at the Simanta festival of the queen, and had stayed there some time after the departure of the other guests; that at that time the King of Mâlwa, furnished with a magic weapon, had invaded the country; that in the battle which ensued, Prahâravarma had assisted his friend with the few soldiers who accompanied him, and had been taken prisoner, but had been liberated by the conqueror; that on his return he had been attacked in the forest by Bheels, and had repulsed them with difficulty. 'I and my daughter,' she continued, 'who had charge of the king's twin children, were separated from the rest in the confusion, and lost our way in the forest. There we suddenly came upon a tiger. In my fright, I stumbled and fell, and dropped the child, which I was carrying, on the carcase of a cow with which the tiger had been engaged. At that moment an arrow struck and killed the tiger. I fainted away, and when I recovered, I found myself quite alone; my daughter had disappeared, and the child, as I suppose, was carried off by the Bheels, who shot the beast. After a time I was found by a compassionate cowherd, who took care of me till my wounds were healed; and I am now wandering about in the hope of finding the boy, and of hearing some tidings of my daughter and the other child.' After giving me this account, she went on her way again, and I, distressed that the son of your majesty's friend should be in such hands, determined to set out in search of him. "After some days I came to a small temple of Durgâ, where a party of Bheels were about to make the child an offering to the goddess, in the hope of obtaining success through her favour; and they were then deliberating in what manner they should kill him, whether by hanging him on the branch of a tree and cutting him to pieces with swords, or by partly burying him in the ground and shooting at him with arrows, or by worrying him with young dogs. "Then I went up to them very humbly, and said: 'O Kirâtas, I am an old brahman; having lost my way in the forest, I laid down my child whom I was carrying, while I went away for a moment to try to find an opening out of the dense thicket; when I came back he was gone. I have been searching for him ever since; have you seen him?' 'Is this your child?' said they. 'O yes!' I exclaimed. 'Take him, then,' they replied; 'we respect a brahman.' Thus I got possession of the boy, and, blessing them for their kindness, took him away as quickly as possible, and have now brought him here, thinking he will be best under your majesty's protection." The king, though grieved at the calamity of his friend, rejoiced that the child was saved from such a death; and giving him the name of Upahâravarma, had him brought up as his own son. Not long after this, Râjahansa went to bathe at a holy place, and in returning, as he passed by a group of Chandâlas, he observed a woman carrying a very beautiful boy. Being struck by the appearance of the child, he said "Where did you get this beautiful boy, who is like a king's son? Surely he is not your own child! pray tell me." She answered: "When the Bheels attacked and plundered the King of Mithila near our village, this child was picked up and brought to me by my husband, and I have taken care of him ever since." The king being convinced that this was the other child of his friend, the King of Mithila, by fair words and gifts induced the woman to give him up, and took him to the queen, giving him the name of Apahâravarma, and begging her to bring him up with her own son. Soon afterwards, a disciple of Vâmadeva brought a beautiful boy to the king, and said "As I was returning from a pilgrimage to Râmatirtha, I saw an old woman carrying this child, and asked her how she came to be wandering there. In answer to my questions, she told me her story, saying, 'I was the servant of a rich man, named Kâlagupta, living in the island of Kâlayavana, and I waited on his daughter Suvritta. One day a young merchant, named Ratnodbhava, son of a minister of the King of Magadha, arrived in the island, and having become acquainted with my master, he married his beautiful daughter. "'After some time, he was desirous of visiting his family, and being unwilling to leave behind his young wife, who was then not far from childbirth, he took her with him, and me as her nurse. "'We embarked on board a ship, and had at first a favourable voyage; but when approaching the land, we were overtaken by a storm, and a great wave broke over the ship, which went down almost immediately. I found myself in the water near my young mistress, and managed to support her till we got hold of a plank, by means of which we at last reached the shore. Whether my master was saved or not I do not know, but I fear that he perished with the rest of those on board, whom we never saw again. "'The coast where we landed appeared to be uninhabited, and the poor lady, being unable to walk far, after much suffering of mind and body, gave birth to this child under a tree in the forest. I have just left her, in the hope of finding some village where I may obtain assistance; and by her wish I have brought the child with me, since she is incapable of taking care of it.' "The woman had hardly finished speaking when a wild elephant, breaking through the bushes, came suddenly upon us, and she was so frightened that she let the child fall, and ran away. "I hid myself behind a tree, and saw the elephant take up the child with his trunk, as if about to put it into its mouth. At that moment he was attacked by a lion, and let the child fall. When the two beasts had moved from the spot, I came from my hiding-place just in time to see the child taken up by a monkey, who ran up a high tree. Presently the beast let the child drop, and as it fell on a leafy branch, I took it up uninjured by the fall, or the other rough treatment which it had received. "After searching for the woman some time in vain, I took the child to my master, the great muni Vâmadeva, and I have now brought it to you by his command." The king, astonished at the preservation of the child under such adverse circumstances, and hoping that Ratnodbhava might have escaped from the shipwreck, sent for Susruta to take charge of his brother's child, to whom he gave the name of Pushpodbhava. Some days after this the queen went up to her husband with a child in her arms, and told him, when he expressed his surprise "Last night I was suddenly awakened from sleep and saw a beautiful lady standing before me, holding this child. She said to me: 'O queen, I am a Yaksha, daughter of Manibhadra, and wife of Kâmapâla, the son of your husband's late minister, Dharmapâla; by command of Kuvera, I have brought this my child to you, that he may enter the service of your son, who is destined to become a mighty monarch.' "I was too much astonished to ask her any question, and she, having laid down the child near me, disappeared." The king, greatly surprised, especially that Kâmapâla should have married a Yaksha, sent for the child's uncle, Sumittra, and committed the boy to his care, giving him the name of Arthapâla. Not long after this another disciple of Vâmadeva brought a very beautiful child to the king, and said: "My lord, I have lately been on a pilgrimage to several holy places, and on my way back, happening to be on the bank of the river Kâvari, I saw a woman carrying this child, and evidently in great distress. On being questioned by me, she wiped away her tears, and with difficulty told me her story, saying, 'O brahman, Satyavarma, the youngest son of Sitavarma, a minister of the King of Magadha, after travelling about a long time, visiting all holy places as a pilgrim, came to this country, and here married a Brahman's daughter, named Kâli. Having no children by her, he took as his second wife her sister Gaurí, and by her he had one son, this child. "'Then the first wife, envious of her sister, determined to destroy the child; and having, with some false pretence, enticed me, when I was carrying the child, to the bank of the river, she pushed us in. I contrived to hold my charge with one hand, and to swim with the other till I met with an uprooted tree carried down by the rapid current. To this I clung, and after floating a long distance, was able at last to land at this place; but in getting away from the tree I disturbed a black serpent which had taken refuge there, and having been bitten by it, I now feel that I am dying.' As she spoke, the poison began to take greater effect, and she fell on the ground. "After trying in vain the power of charms, I went to look for some herb which might serve as an antidote; but when I returned the poor creature was dead. "I was much perplexed at this occurrence, especially as she had not told me the name of the village from which she came, nor could I conjecture how far off it might be, so that I was unable to take the child to its father. "Therefore, after collecting wood and burning the body, I have brought the child to you, thinking that he will be best taken care of under your protection." The king, astonished that so many children should have been brought in such a wonderful manner, and distressed at not knowing where to find Satyavarma, gave the child the name of Somadatta, and committed him to the care of his uncle, Sumati, who received him with great affection. These nine boys, thus wonderfully collected together, became the associates and play-fellows of the young prince, and were educated together with him. When they were all nearly seventeen, their education was regarded as complete, for they had not only been taught the vedas and the commentaries on them, several languages, grammar, logic, philosophy, &c., but were well acquainted with poetry, plays, and all sorts of tales and stories; were accomplished in drawing and music, skilled in games, sleight of hand and various tricks, and practised in the use of weapons. They were also bold riders and drivers of horses and elephants; and even clever thieves, able to steal without detection; so that Râjahansa was exceedingly delighted at seeing his son surrounded by a band of such brave, active, clever companions and faithful followers. One day about this time Vâmadeva came to visit the king, by whom he was received with great respect and reverence. Seeing the prince perfect in beauty, strength, and accomplishments, and surrounded by such companions, he said to Râjahansa: "Your wish for a son has indeed been fully gratified, since you have one who is all that you could desire. It is now time for him to go out into the world and prepare himself for the career of conquest to which he is destined.". The king listened respectfully to the advice of the muni, and determined to be guided by it; having therefore given his son good advice, he sent him forth at a propitious hour, to travel about in search of adventure, accompanied by his nine friends. After travelling for some days, they entered the forest of Vindhya, and when halting there for the night they saw a rough-looking man, having all the appearance of a Bheel, but wearing the sacred cord which is the characteristic of a brahman. The prince, surprised at such an incongruity, asked him who he was, how he came to be living in such a wild place, and how, with all the appearance of a forester, he was wearing the brahminical cord. The man, seeming to be aware that his questioner was a person of importance, answered respectfully, "O prince, there are in this forest certain nominal brahmans, who, having abandoned the study of the vedas, religious obligations, and family duties, are devoted to all sorts of sinful practices, and act as leaders of robber bands, associating with their followers and living as they live. "I, Matanga by name, am the son of one of these, and was brought up to be a robber like them. Since I have been grown up I have often assisted in plundering expeditions, when they would fall suddenly on some defenceless village, and carry away not only all the property on which they could lay their hands, but several of the richest of the inhabitants, whom they would keep prisoners till a ransom had been paid, or till, compelled by torture, they confessed where their money was concealed. "On one of these occasions, when my companions were ill-treating a brahman, I was seized by a sudden feeling of compassion and remonstrated with them. Finding words of no avail, I stood before him, and was killed by my own men while fighting on his behalf. "After death I went down to the regions below, and was taken before Yama, the judge of the dead, sitting on a great throne inlaid with jewels. "When the god saw me prostrate before him he called one of his attendants and said: 'The time for this man's death is not arrived, and moreover, he was killed in defending a brahman; therefore, after showing him the tortures of the wicked, let him return to his former body, in which he will in future lead a holy life.' "By him I was shown some sinners tied to red-hot iron bars, some thrown into great tubs of boiling oil, some beaten with clubs, some cut to pieces with swords; after which my spirit re-entered the body, and I awoke to consciousness, lying alone, grievously wounded, in the forest. "In this state I was found by some of my relations, who carried me home and took care of me till my wounds were healed. "Shortly after this I met with the brahman whom I had rescued, and he, grateful for the service which I had rendered him, read to me some religious books, and taught me the due performance of religious rites, especially the proper way of worshipping Siva. "When he considered me sufficiently instructed, he quitted me, giving me his blessing, and receiving many thanks from me for his kindness. "Since then I have separated myself from all my former associates, and have lived a life of penance and meditation in this forest, endeavouring to atone for my past sins, and especially seeking, to propitiate the mighty deity who has the half-moon for his crest; and now, having told you my history, I have something to communicate which concerns you alone, and beg you to withdraw with me to hear it in private." The two then went aside from the rest of the party, and the stranger said, "O prince, last night, during sleep, Siva appeared to me and addressed me thus: 'Matanga, I am pleased with your devotions; they shall now have their reward. North of this place, on the bank of the river which flows through the Dandaka forest, there is a remarkable rock, glittering with crystal and marked with the footsteps of Gaurí. Go thither; in the side of the rock you will see a yawning chasm, enter it and search till you find a copper plate with letters engraved on it; follow the directions therein contained, and you will become King of Pâtâla. That you may know this not to be a mere dream, a king's son will come to this place to-morrow, and he will be your companion in the journey.' "I have in consequence anxiously awaited your coming, and now entreat you to go with me to the place pointed out in the vision." The curiosity of the prince was much excited by Matanga's story, and he readily promised to be his companion; fearing, however, that his friends would be opposed to his purpose, he did not on his return tell them anything of what he had heard, and at midnight, when they were all fast asleep, he slipped away without disturbing them, and went to join Matanga, who was waiting for him at a place which had been agreed on, and the two walked on till they came to the rock indicated by Siva in the vision. Meanwhile, the rest of the party, uneasy at the disappearance of the prince, sought for him all over the forest, and not finding him, determined to disperse, and continue the search in different countries; and having arranged where to meet again, took leave of each other, and set out separately in different directions. Matanga, entirely believing the vision, and rendered still more confident by the companionship of the prince, fearlessly entered the cavern, found the copper plate and read the words engraved on it. Following the directions therein contained, they went on in darkness, groping their way through long passages, till at last they saw light before them and arrived at the subterranean country of Pâtâla. After walking some distance further, they came to a small lake, surrounded by trees, with a city in view. Here they stopped, and Matanga begging the prince to watch and guard against interruption, collected a quantity of wood and lighted a large fire, into which he threw himself with many charms and incantations, and presently came forth with a new body full of youth, beauty, and vigour, to the great astonishment of his companion. Hardly was this change effected, when they saw coming towards them from the city a procession, headed by a beautiful young lady splendidly dressed, and adorned with very costly jewels. Approaching Matanga, she made a low obeisance, and, without speaking, put a very precious gem into his hand. Being questioned by him, she answered, with tears in her eyes and in a soft musical voice, "O excellent brahman, I am the daughter of a chief of Asuras, and my name is Kalindí; my father, the ruler of this subterranean world, was slain by Vishnu whom he had offended, and as he had no son, I was left his heir and successor, and suffered great distress and perplexity. "Some time ago I consulted a very holy Siddha, who had compassion on me, and told me, 'After a time, a certain mortal, having a heavenly body, will come down here from the upper world; he will become your husband, and reign prosperously with you over all Pâtâla'. "Trusting to this prophecy, I have waited impatiently, longing for your coming as a Châtaka longs for rain, and am now come, with the consent of my ministers and people, to offer you my hand and kingdom." Matanga, delighted at such a speedy fulfilment of the promise given in the vision, gladly accepted her offer, and with the approbation of his companion, was soon afterwards married to her amid great festivity. Râjavâhana was treated with great respect and kindness by Matanga and his bride; but after seeing all the wonders of the place, his curiosity was satisfied, and he was desirous of returning to the upper world. At his departure, a magic jewel was given him by Kalindí, which had the power of keeping off from the possessor of it hunger, thirst, fatigue, and other discomforts; and Matanga accompanied him for a part of the way. Walking through darkness as before, the prince at last reached the mouth of the cavern and came forth into the open air. Having missed all his companions, he was uncertain where to direct his steps, and wandered on till he came to a large park, outside a city, where a great concourse of people was assembled, and he there sat down to rest. As he sat watching the various groups, he saw a young man enter the park, accompanied by a lady and followed by a numerous retinue, and they both got into one of the swings placed there for the amusement of the festal crowd. Presently the eye of the new-comer rested on the prince; with signs of great joy he jumped down, exclaiming, "O what happiness! That is my lord Râjavâhana," and, running to him, bowed down to his feet, saying "Great is my good fortune in meeting you again." Râjavâhana, affected by equal pleasure, warmly embraced him, saying, "O my dear friend Somadatta, how happy I am to see you once more!" Then they sat down together under a shady tree, and the prince inquired: "What have you been doing all this time? Where have you been? Who is this lady? And how did you get all these attendants?" Somadatta, thus questioned, began the recital of what he had done and seen. * * * * * ADVENTURES OF SOMADATTA. My lord, having great anxiety on your account, I wandered about in various countries. One day, when stooping to drink from a cool, clear stream, near a forest, I saw something bright under the water, and having taken it up, found it to be a ruby of very great value. Exhausted by fatigue and the scorching heat of the sun, I went into a small temple to rest, and saw there a brahman with a number of children, all looking wretched and half-starved. He seemed to regard me as a possible benefactor, and when questioned, readily told me his story; how his wife had died, leaving him with the care of all these children, and how, having no means of subsistence, he had wandered about in the hope of obtaining some employment; but had got nothing better than the charge of this small temple, where the offerings were not sufficient to support him and his family. I asked him--"What is that camp which I see at some distance?" He answered--"The Lord of Lâta, Mattakâla by name, hearing again and again of the great beauty of Vâmalochana, daughter of Víraketu, sovereign of this country, asked her in marriage, and was refused. Being determined to obtain her, he raised an army and besieged Pâtali, the capital city. Víraketu finding himself unable to resist the enemy, purchased peace by giving up his daughter, and Mattakâla, thinking that the marriage can be celebrated with greater magnificence in his own country, has deferred it till his return. He is now on his way home with a small part of his army, the rest having been dismissed; and he is staying at present near this forest to enjoy the pleasures of the chase. The princess is not with her intended husband, but under the care of Mânapâla, one of her father's officers, who is said to be very indignant at the surrender of the lady; you may see his camp at no great distance from the other." While thanking the poor man for his information, a thought came into my mind--here is a very poor and deserving man, I will give him the jewel which I have found; and I did so. He received the gift with profuse thanks, and set out immediately to try to dispose of it; while I lay down there to sleep. After a time I was awakened by a great clamour, and saw the brahman coming towards me with his hands tied behind him, driven along, with blows of a whip and much abuse, by a party of soldiers. On seeing me, he called out, "There is the thief; that is the man who gave me the jewel." Upon this the soldiers let him go, and, seizing me, refused to listen to my remonstrances, or to my account of the manner in which I had found the ruby. They dragged me along with them, and having put fetters on my feet, thrust me into a dungeon, saying, "There are your companions," pointing at the same time to some other prisoners confined in that place. When I recovered my senses--for I was half stunned by the violence with which I had been pushed in--I said to my fellow-prisoners, "Who are you, and what did the soldiers mean by calling you my companions? for you are quite strangers to me." Those prisoners then told me the story of the King of Lâta, which I had already heard from the brahman, and further said, "We were sent by Mânapâla to assassinate that king, and broke into the place where we supposed him to be. Not finding him, we were unwilling to come away empty-handed; we therefore carried off everything of value within our reach and made our escape to the forest. The next morning there was an active pursuit, our hiding-place was discovered, we were all captured, and the stolen property taken from us, with the exception of one ruby of great value, which had disappeared. The king is exceedingly angry that this cannot be found; our assertion that we have lost it is disbelieved, and we are threatened with torture to-morrow, unless we say where it is hidden." Having heard the robbers' story, I was convinced that the ruby in question was the one which I had found and given to the brahman, and I now understood why these men were supposed to be my accomplices. I told them who I was, how I had found the jewel, and had been unjustly arrested on account of it, and exhorted them to take courage and join me in an attempt to escape that night. To this they agreed, and at midnight we managed to overpower the jailors and knock off our fetters; and having armed ourselves with weapons which we found in the prison, we cut our way through the guards, and reached Mânapâla's camp in safety. The next day, men sent by the King of Lâta came to Mânapâla, and said--"Some robbers, who were caught after breaking into the king's dwelling, have made their escape, and are known to have come here; give them up immediately, or it will be the worse for you." Mânapâla, who only wanted an excuse for a quarrel, having heard this insulting message, his eyes red with anger, answered,--"Who is the King of Lâta, that I should bow down to him? What have I to do with that low fellow? Begone!" When the men returned to their master and told him the reception they had met with, he was in a furious rage, and, disregarding the smallness of the force which was with him, marched out at once to attack Mânapâla, who was quite prepared to meet him. When I entered the camp, after my escape, Mânapâla, who received from his servants an exaggerated account of my coolness, dexterity, and courage, had treated me with great honour, and now I offered my services in the approaching fight. They were gladly accepted, and I was furnished with an excellent chariot and horses guided by a skilful charioteer, a strong coat of mail, a bow and two quivers full of arrows, as well as with other weapons. Thus equipped, I went forth to meet the enemy, and seeking out the leader, soon found myself near him. First confusing him with arrows poured upon him in rapid succession, I brought my chariot close to his, and suddenly springing into it, cut off his head at a blow. Seeing the king fall, his soldiers were discouraged, and fled; the camp was taken, much booty gained, and the princess led back, to her father. He having received an account of the victory, and of my share in it, through a messenger sent from Mânapâla, came forth to meet us when we entered the city, and received me with great honour. After a time, as I continued daily to increase in favour with him, he bestowed on me the hand of his daughter, and declared me his successor. Being thus arrived at the height of prosperity and happiness, I had but one cause of sorrow--my absence from you. I am on my way to Mahâkâla, to worship Siva there. I have stopped at this place, hoping, at a festival so much frequented, I might at least hear some tidings of you, and now the god has favoured his worshipper, and through this happy meeting all my wishes are fulfilled. Râjavâhana, who delighted in valour, having heard Somadatta's story, while expressing his sorrow for his undeserved imprisonment, congratulated him on the happy result of it, and told him his own adventures. He had scarcely finished the relation of them when a third person came up, and the prince, warmly greeting him, exclaimed, "O, Somadatta, here is Pushpodbhava." Then there were mutual embracings and rejoicings, after which they all three sat down again, and Râjavâhana said: "Somadatta has told me his adventures, but I know nothing of the rest of my friends. What did you do when you missed me that morning in the forest?" Then Pushpodbhava respectfully spoke as follows:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF PUSHPODBHAVA. My lord, your friends being convinced that you had gone on some expedition with the brahman, and knowing nothing of the direction which you had taken, were greatly perplexed. At last we agreed to separate, each going a different way, and I, like the rest, set out by myself. One day, being unable to bear the heat of the noonday sun, I sat down in the shade of a tree at the bottom of a mountain. Happening to look up, I saw a man falling from the rock above, and he came to the ground very near me. On going up to him, I found that he was still alive, and having revived him by throwing cold water over him, and by other means, I found that he had no bone broken, and did not appear to have received any serious injury. When he was sufficiently recovered, I asked him who he was and how he came to fall from the precipice. With tears in his eyes, and a feeble voice, he said: "My name is Ratnodbhava; I am the son of a minister of the King of Magadha; travelling about as a merchant, I came, many years ago, to the island of Kâlayavana. There I married a merchant's daughter, and going with her by sea to visit my relations, was overtaken by a violent storm, during which the ship sank, and I was the only person saved. "After reaching the shore, I wandered about for some time in a strange country, and, unable to bear my misery, was about to put an end to my life, when I was stopped by a Siddha, who assured me that after sixteen years I should find my wife. Trusting to this promise, I have endured life through all these years; but the appointed time having passed without any sign of the fulfilment of the prophecy, I could hold out no longer, and threw myself from the top of this precipice." At that moment the voice of a woman in distress was heard not far off, and saying to him whom I recognised as my father, "Take courage, I have good news for you; only wait a moment," I ran off in the direction of the place whence the voice had proceeded, and soon came in sight of a large fire and two women near it, the one trying to throw herself into the flames, the other struggling to prevent her. Going to the help of the latter, I soon got the lady away, and brought her and her companion to the place where my father was lying. I then said to the old woman, "Pray tell me what all this means? How came you to be in such a place, and why did the lady wish to destroy herself?" With a voice broken by sobs, she answered me: "This lady, whose name is Suvritta, is the daughter of a merchant in the island of Kâlayavana, and the wife of Ratnodbhava. While crossing the sea with her husband, there was a great storm, the ship sank, and this lady and I, her nurse, were the only persons saved. A few days afterwards she gave birth to a son in the forest; but through my ill-fortune the child was lost, having been seized by a wild elephant. Afterwards we two wandered about in great misery, and she would have put an end to her life had we not met with a holy man, who comforted her with the assurance that after sixteen years she would be reunited with her husband and son. Relying on this prophecy, she consented to wait, and we have spent all these years living near his hermitage; but the sixteen years were ended some time ago, and having lost all hope, she was about to end her wretched life by throwing herself into a fire which she had made, when you so opportunely came to my assistance." Hearing this story, my father was unable to speak from astonishment. I made him known to my mother, and myself to both of them, to their very great joy; and my mother seemed as if she would never weary of kissing and embracing me. After a time, when we were all more composed, my father began to inquire about the king and his own relations, for during all these years he had heard nothing of them. I told him everything--how the king had been defeated, and had been living in the forest; your birth, and the wonderful preservation of myself and my companions; how we had all set out together; how we had lost you, and how I was now searching for you. As soon as my father was able to walk, I placed him and my mother under the care of a certain muni, not very far off, and set out again on my travels. Just at this time I had heard that under the ruins of an ancient city, overgrown by trees, a great treasure was supposed to be concealed; and as I possessed a magic ointment which, when applied to the eyes, enabled me to see through the ground, I determined to try to dig it up. I therefore got together some strong young men with the promise of good pay, went to the place, and succeeded in finding a large quantity of gold and silver coin. While I was thus engaged, a caravan of merchants came to that neighbourhood, and halted there for a day or two. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I purchased of them sacks for holding the coin, and some strong oxen to carry them. I then dismissed my men, well satisfied with their share, and joined the caravan, where I soon made friends with the leader, the son of a merchant at Oujein, to which place he was then going. On our arrival at the city, he introduced me to his father, Bandhupâla, by whose means I obtained permission from the King of Mâlwa to reside there. When I had taken a house, safely deposited the money, and established my parents in it, I was anxious to set out again in search of you. Bandhupâla, seeing this, said to me: "You have already spent much time in searching for your friend, and may spend much more in the same manner to no purpose, if you have no clue to guide you. Now I am skilled in augury and the language of birds; it is probable that I may obtain some indications for you; wait, therefore, patiently for the present. Meanwhile, my house is always open to you." To this I agreed, and having great pleasure in his society, was much with him, and soon had other attractions there, for I fell in love with his beautiful daughter, Bâlachandrika. Though I had not declared my passion, I was convinced, from her looks and from many things which I observed, that she was equally in love with me, and therefore anxiously sought an opportunity of speaking to her in private. One day, Bandhupâla, wishing to obtain information about you by listening to the voices of birds, went with me into a park near the city, and while he waited under the trees, hearing the birds, I walked on, and had the good fortune to see my beloved alone, in another part of the park. Although she was evidently pleased at seeing me, and did not reject my suit, I observed that she was distressed and dispirited, and inquired the cause. She told me, "Some time ago the old king abdicated in favour of his son Darpasâra, who is now gone on a pilgrimage to the Himâlaya Mountains, having first appointed as joint regents the two sons of his father's sister, Charmavarma and Dâruvarma. "The former of these two alone has the management of affairs; for the latter, given up to evil deeds, makes use of his power only for the indulgence of his licentious passions. "He has seen me during my attendance on the Princess Avantisundari, has endeavoured to seduce me, and I am in constant fear of his violence, for he hesitates at nothing in the indulgence of his wicked desires." She told me this reluctantly, and with much agitation; but I comforted her with the assurance of my love, and the promise of finding some means to free her from his annoyance. After some reflection, I said to her, "This is the plan which I propose. Your friends must give out in public that a certain Siddha has declared--'Bâlachandrika is guarded by a demon, who will allow no man to have intercourse with her without his consent. Whoever, therefore, wishes to marry her, must first pass one night in company with her and one female friend, and if he comes out uninjured, or is able to overcome the demon, he may then safely marry her.' "If Dâruvarma, on hearing this, shall be alarmed, and abstain from further annoyance, so much the better; if, on the other hand, he persists in his wicked purpose, do you appear to consent, and say, 'If you think you can overcome the demon, I am willing to meet you, but it must be openly, in your own house; and then, whatever happens, no blame can fall on my family.' "To this proposal he will be sure to agree, and you may go to his house without fear, for I will accompany you, disguised as a woman, and will manage to kill that wretch, without danger to you or myself, after which there will be no obstacle to our marriage; for, when I ask your father, he will certainly consent, seeing the great love between us, for he has shown great regard for me, and knows my property and connections. But you must tell him now what has been arranged between us, that he may be induced to spread abroad the report about the demon, and to consent to your going to Dâruvarma's house." Bâlachandrika was delighted with my plan, and promised to do her best to carry it out. She had full confidence in my courage and skill, and felt sure that I should succeed in what I had undertaken. Then, reluctantly leaving me, and looking back again and again, she walked slowly home. After quitting her I returned to her father, who was well satisfied with the result of his observations, and told me that he had ascertained that after thirty days I should meet you; and we walked together to his house, talking over the matter. After a few days, Bâlachandrika informed me that Dâruvarma, undeterred by the report which was now spread about the city, that she was haunted by a demon, had continued his importunities, and that she had consented to go to his house that evening. Meanwhile I had secretly made my preparations, and concealed in a lonely place everything required for my disguise. At the proper time, when it was quite dark, I went there, changed my dress, met the lady, and accompanied her to the house of the prince, who received us with great respect; and not having the slightest suspicion of my being other than what I seemed to be, sent away all his attendants, and conducted us to a room in a small detached building. There he seated her on a beautiful soft couch, inlaid with jewels, and expressing his great delight at seeing her, brought forth and offered to us both very handsome presents of dresses, ornaments, perfumes, &c. After some conversation--as if no longer able to restrain himself--he sat down beside her, and, regardless of my presence, threw his arms round her, and kissed her again and again. This was more than I could bear; suddenly seizing him by the throat, I threw him on the ground, and despatched him with blows of hand, foot, and knee, before he could call out or give an alarm. Then we both screamed out loudly, and I rushed forth, as if in a great fright, calling out, "Help! help! the horrible demon is killing the prince!" Hearing this, and seeing my apparent agitation, the attendants and guards hastened in great confusion to the room, where they found the prince dead, and the lady so agitated that she was unable to give an account of what had happened; the demon had of course disappeared. Some police were in attendance, suspicious of fraud, but even they did not imagine two women to be capable of such an act of violence, and the general opinion was that the story of the demon was founded on truth, and that the prince well deserved the fate he had met with. Bâlachandrika was therefore suffered to leave: I had already escaped in the first alarm and confusion, had changed my dress, and reached home in safety. No further inquiry was made, and no suspicion fell on me; I duly married my beloved, and as no harm happened to me, the demon was supposed to have been propitiated. The day indicated by my wife's father having arrived, I came here, fully expecting to see you, and now my happiness is complete. When Râjavâhana had heard this story, he again related his own adventures; after which he took leave of Somadatta, saying, "Come to me as soon as possible, when you have paid your devotions at Mahâkâla, and have taken your wife and her attendants home;" and he then accompanied Pushpodbhava into the city of Avanti. There he was hospitably received in the house of his friend, who introduced him by his real name to Bandhupâla, but gave out in the city that he was a young brahman, worthy of all honour for his learning and ability; and the prince remained for some time in that city, treated with great respect and consideration by all who became acquainted with him. * * * * * MARRIAGE OF AVANTISUNDARI. During the stay of Râjavâhana at Avanti, the season of spring arrived, when the great festival of Kâma is celebrated. The trees, breaking into flower, were filled with the song of birds and the hum of bees, and their branches were waved by the soft south wind, blowing, loaded with perfume, from the sandal groves of Malaya. The lakes and pools were thickly covered with lotus blossoms, among which innumerable water-birds were sporting, and the feelings of all were influenced by the charms of the season, and prepared for the worship of the god of love. On the day of the festival, the parks and gardens were crowded with people, some engaged in various sports, some walking about or sitting under the trees, looking at the players. Among them was the Princess Avantisundari, who was sitting on a sandy spot, under a large tree, attended by her women, especially by her dear friend Bâlachandrika, and making offerings to the god of various perfumes and flowers. The prince also walked in the park with his friend Pushpodbhava; and wishing to see the princess, of whose grace and beauty he had already heard, contrived to approach; and being encouraged by Bâlachandrika with a gesture of the hand, came and stood very near her. Then, indeed, having an opportunity of observing her, he was struck by her exceeding beauty. She seemed to him as if formed by the god of love with everything most beautiful in the world; and, as he gazed, he felt more and more entranced, till almost unconsciously he was deeply in love. She, indeed, seeing him beautiful as Kâma himself, was almost equally affected, and, pervaded by strong feeling, trembled like the branch of a creeping plant agitated by a gentle wind. Then he thought, "Never have I seen anything so lovely. She must have been formed by some singular accident, for there is no one like her in the world." She, indeed, ashamed to look openly at him, and half concealing herself among her attendants, looked at him stealthily from time to time, and while he had all his thoughts fixed on her, was saying to herself, "Who can he be? Where does he come from? Happy the maidens whose eyes are delighted with such beauty! happy the mother who has such a son! What can I do? how can I find out who he is?" Meanwhile Bâlachandrika, quick in discrimination, perceived the impression they had made on each other; and not thinking it desirable to declare his name and rank before the other attendants, or in such a public place, introduced him to the princess, saying, "This is a very learned and clever young brahman, a friend of my husband, worthy of your notice. Allow me to recommend him to your favourable consideration." The princess, delighted at heart, but concealing her feelings, motioned to the prince to sit down near her, and gave him betel, flowers, perfumes, &c., through one of her attendants. Then Râjavâhana, more deeply in love even than the princess, thought to himself, "There surely must be some reason for this very sudden attraction which I feel towards her. She must have been my beloved wife in a former existence. Perhaps a curse was laid upon us; and now that is removed. If so, the recognition ought to be mutual; at all events I will try what I can do to produce the same feeling in her which exists in my mind." While he was considering how this might be accomplished, a swan approached the princess, as if expecting to be fed or caressed; and in sport, she desired Bâlachandrika to catch it. Inspired by this circumstance with a happy thought, Râjavâhana said to the princess, "Will you allow me to tell you a short story? There was formerly a king called Samba. When walking one day together with his beloved wife at the side of a small lake in the pleasure-grounds, he saw a swan asleep, just under the bank. Having caught it, he tied its legs together, put it down again on the ground, and saying to his wife, 'This bird sits as quiet as a muni; let him go where he likes,' amused himself with laughing at its awkward attempts to walk. Then the swan suddenly spoke: 'O king, though in the form of a swan, I am a devout brahman; and since you have thus, without cause, ill-treated me while sitting quiet here, engaged in meditation, I lay my curse upon you, and you shall endure the pain of separation from your beloved wife.' "Hearing this, the king, alarmed and distressed, bowed respectfully to the ground, and said, 'O mighty sage, forgive an act done through ignorance.' "Then that holy person, having his anger appeased, answered, 'My words cannot be made of no effect. I will, however, so far modify the curse that it will not take place during your present existence; but in a future birth, when you are united to the same lady in another body, you must endure the misery of separation from her for two months, though you will afterwards enjoy very great happiness with her; and I will also confer on you both the power of recognising each other in your next existence,'--I beg of you therefore not to tie this bird which you were wishing to catch." The princess, hearing this story, was quite ready to believe it; and from her own feelings was convinced that it really referred to a previous existence of herself, now brought to her recollection; and that the love which she felt springing up in her heart was directed towards one who had formerly been her husband. With a sweet smile, she answered: "Doubtless Samba tied the bird in that way on purpose to obtain the power of recognition in another birth; and it was very cleverly managed by him." From that moment they seemed perfectly to understand each other, and sat without speaking, their hearts full of happiness. Presently the mother of the princess--the queen of the ex-king Mânasâra, who had also come with her attendants into the park, joined her daughter; and Bâlachandrika having seen her approaching, made a sign to the prince, upon which he and his friend slipped on one side, and hid themselves behind some leafy bushes. After the queen had stayed a short time talking to her daughter and looking at the games, she set out to return, and the princess accompanied her. Before going, she turned round, as if addressing the swan, but intending the speech for the prince, who was anxiously watching her from his hiding-place, "Though you came near me so lovingly just now, I may not stay longer with you: I must leave you and follow my mother: do not forget me or imagine that I neglect you, for I am still fond of you." With these words she walked slowly away, looking with longing eyes in the direction of her lover. On their return to the palace, the princess heard from Bâlachandrika a full account of Râjavâhana and his adventures, through which she was even more in love than before; and having no opportunity of seeing him again, became listless and indifferent to her usual occupations, lost her appetite, wasted away, and at last lay on her bed, burning with fever. In vain did her devoted attendants use all their efforts to diminish the heat by means of cold water, fanning, and other remedies; and she, seeing their distress, said to her faithful Bâlachandrika: "Ah, dear friend, all you can do is to no purpose; they call Kâma the god with five arrows; but surely this is a wrong name, for I feel as if pierced by him with hundreds of arrows. They call the wind from Malaya cooling; but to me it only increases the fever, as if blowing up the fire which consumes me: my own necklace, the contact of which was formerly agreeable, now feels as if smeared with the poison of serpents. Give up your exertions; the prince is the only physician who can cure me; and how can he come to me here?" Then Bâlachandrika thought to herself: "Something must be done, and that without delay, or this violent passion of love will surely cause her death. I will at least see the prince, and try if it is possible to bring about a meeting." Having thus resolved, she begged the princess to write a few lines to her lover; and committing her to the care of the other attendants, she went to the house of her husband. There she found Râjavâhana almost in the same state as the princess, burning with fever, throwing himself about restlessly on his couch, and bemoaning his hard fate to his friend. On seeing Bâlachandrika, he started up, saying, "Oh, how welcome is the sight of you! I am sure you must be the bearer of good news. Sit down here and tell me about my darling." She answered: "The princess is suffering like yourself, longing to see you; and has now sent me with this letter." Eagerly opening it, he read-- "Beloved--Having seen your beauty, delicate as a flower, faultless, unrivalled in the world, my heart is full of longing. Do you likewise make your heart soft." Having read this, he said: "Your coming here is refreshing to me as water to a withered plant; you are the wife of my very dear friend, Pushpodbhava, and I know how attached you are to my darling, therefore I can speak freely to you. Tell her that when she left the grove that day she carried off my heart with her, and that I long to see her even more than she longs for me; tell her only not to despond; the entrance to her apartments is indeed difficult, but I will contrive to see her by some means or other. Come back soon, and, having thought over the matter, I will tell you what is to be done." With this message, Bâlachandrika went to rejoice her friend; and the prince, though much comforted, could not remain quiet, but walked to the park, to have the pleasure of seeing at least the place where he had first met his charmer. There he stayed a long time together with his friend, looking at her footsteps in the sand, the withered flowers which she had gathered and thrown down, the place where she had sat, and the shrubs from which he had watched her, and listening to the murmur of the wind among the leaves, the hum of the bees and the song of the birds. Presently, they saw approaching them a brahman, splendidly dressed, followed by a servant. He, coming up to the prince, saluted him; and the prince, returning the salute, asked who he was. He answered "My name is Vidyeswara. I am a famous conjurer, and travel about exhibiting my skill for the amusement of kings and nobles. I have now come to Oujein, to show off my skill before the king." Then, with a knowing smile, he added, "But what makes you look so pale?" Pushpodbhava, thinking to himself this is just the man to help us, answered, "There is something in your appearance which induces me to look on you as a friend, and you know how sometimes intimate friendship arises from a very short acquaintance; I will therefore tell you why my friend is thus sad. Not long ago, he, the son of a king, met the Princess Avantisundari on this very spot, and they fell in love with each other. From the impossibility of meeting, both are suffering, and the prince is brought into this condition which you see." Vidyeswara, in reply, looking at the prince, said, with a smile, "To such as you, with me for an ally, nothing is impossible. I will, through my skill, contrive that you shall marry the princess in the presence of her father and his court; but you must follow my directions exactly, and she must be informed of her part in the affair through some trusty female friend." Then, having given the necessary directions, the conjurer went his way. Râjavâhana also returned to the house, and when he had given Bâlachandrika, who came again in the evening, the directions received from the conjurer, and a loving message of encouragement for the princess, he anxiously awaited the morrow, unable to sleep from the thought of the expected happiness, and fluctuating between alternate hopes and fears. In the morning, Vidyeswara, having collected a large troop of followers, went to the palace and announced himself to the doorkeeper, saying, "Tell the king the great conjurer is arrived." Mânasâra, who had heard of his great skill, and was desirous of seeing it, ordered him to be immediately admitted, and, after the usual salutations, the performance began. First, while the band was playing, peacocks' tails were waving, and singers imitating the plaintive notes of birds, to excite the feelings and distract the attention of the hearers, the conjurer turned round violently several times, with his eyes half-closed, and caused great hooded serpents to appear and vultures to come down from the sky to seize them. After this, he represented the scene of Vishnu killing Hiranyakasipu, chief of the Asuras, to the great astonishment of the spectators; then, turning to the king, he said, "It is desirable that the performance should end with something auspicious; I propose, therefore, to represent a royal marriage, and one of my people will act as your daughter, another as a prince, endowed with all good qualities. But first I must apply to your eyes this ointment, which will give you preternatural clearness of vision." To all this the king consented. Meanwhile, the princess had contrived to slip out unobserved, and stood among the conjurer's people. Râjavâhana also stood ready, and the performance began. Thus, under the disguise of a piece of acting, the conjurer, being a brahman, was able to complete the marriage with all proper rites and ceremonies without any suspicion on the part of the king that it was his own daughter whom he saw before him; and the others, also unsuspecting, only admired the skill of the conjurer in making the actress so like the lady whom she represented. When the performance was ended, the conjurer, having been liberally rewarded by the king, dismissed his hired attendants and departed. In the confusion and excitement caused by the conjurer's performance, Râjavâhana and the princess slipped unnoticed into her apartments, where he was safe, for the present at least, her attendants being all devoted to her, and careful to keep the secret. He was thus able to enjoy the society of his bride without interruption; to give her a full account of his life and adventures, and to teach her many things of which she was ignorant; so that she became more and more attached to him, and admired his knowledge and eloquence as much as she had before admired his beauty. * * * * * FURTHER ADVENTURES OF RÂJAVÂHANA. Thus the princess, listening with delight and astonishment to the sweet and eloquent words of her husband, and he never tired of contemplating her beauty and enjoying her caresses, lived for some time in the greatest happiness, without care or anxiety for the future. One night, when both were sleeping, the prince had a remarkable dream. He seemed to see an old swan, whose legs were tied together with lotus fibre, approach the bedside; at that moment he awoke with a feeling of pressure on his feet, and found himself bound with a slender silver chain, bright as the rays of the moon. The princess awoke at the same time, and seeing her husband thus fettered, screamed out loudly in her fright. The attendants in the adjoining apartments, hearing the scream, thought something dreadful must have happened. They rushed into the room, added their cries to hers, and forgetting all their former precautions, left the doors open, so that the guards outside, hearing the clamour, entered and saw the prince. When about to seize him, they were awed by his dignity, and contented themselves with giving information to the regent, Chandavarma, who, on receiving it, came immediately to the place. Looking at the prince with eyes burning with the fire of anger, he began to recollect him, and said, "So! this is that conceited brahman who has been deceiving the people; making them believe that he is wonderfully clever; the friend of that fellow the husband of the wicked Bâlachandrika, the cause of my brother's death. How is it possible that the princess should have fallen in love with such a paltry wretch, overlooking a man like me? She is a disgrace to her family, and shall soon see her husband impaled on a stake." Then, with his forehead disfigured by a fearful frown, he continued to abuse the prince; and having tied his hands behind him, dragged him from the room. Râjavâhana, naturally brave, and encouraged by belief in that former existence the remembrance of which had so wonderfully arisen in his mind, bore all the insults with firmness, and saying to the princess, "Remember that speech of the swan, have patience for two months, and all will be well," submitted quietly to the imprisonment. When the ex-king and queen were informed of what had happened, they were greatly distressed on their daughter's account, and exerted themselves to save the life of their son-in-law; but the regent, in whom all authority was vested, resisted their entreaties; and only on condition of their resigning some of the few privileges which still remained to them did he consent to defer the execution till he had communicated with Darpasâra, and learned his pleasure on the subject. He confiscated the property of Pushpodbhava, and threw him and his family into prison; and being about to march against the King of Anga, and unwilling to leave the prince behind, lest he should be liberated by the old king, he caused a wooden cage to be made, in which his prisoner was shut up and carried with the army. Treated thus like some wild beast, roughly shaken and neglected, Râjavâhana would have suffered greatly had he not been protected by the magic jewel given to him in Pâtâla, and which he had contrived to conceal in his hair. Chandavarma had some time before this asked in marriage Ambâlika, the daughter of Sinhavarma, King of Anga, and, indignant at a refusal, was now marching against him, to take vengeance for the insult, and get possession of the princess. Advancing therefore with a large army, he prepared to besiege Champa, the capital city. Sinhavarma, being of a very impatient and impetuous disposition, would not wait for the arrival of the allies who had been summoned to his assistance, and were then on the march; but throwing open the gates, went forth to meet the enemy. A terrible battle ensued, in which both kings performed prodigies of valour. At last Sinhavarma was taken prisoner, and his army so completely defeated, that the conqueror entered and took possession of the city without opposition. Chandavarma, having now the princess in his power, determined to make her his wife at once: he therefore treated her father with more consideration than he would otherwise have done, though he put him in confinement, and caused it to be proclaimed throughout the city that the wedding would be celebrated with much splendour the next morning. Just then a messenger arrived from Kailâsa, bringing a letter from Darpasâra, in which he had written, "O fool! should there be any pity for the violator of the harem? If the old king, my father, now in his dotage, was foolish enough to favour the criminal for the sake of his worthless daughter, you had no need of his permission, and ought not to have been influenced by him. Let that vile seducer be immediately put to death by torture, and his paramour be shut up in prison till I come." Chandavarma, who had intended to march against the allies advancing for the assistance of his captive, on receiving these commands, gave orders to his attendants, saying, "To-morrow morning take that vile wretch from his cage, and set him at the palace gate. Have ready, also, a fierce elephant, suitably equipped, which I shall mount immediately after the wedding, to overtake my army in march against the enemy; and as I set out, I will make the elephant trample the life out of that criminal." Accordingly, the next morning, the prince was brought by the guards to the gate of the palace, and the elephant placed near him. While he stood there, calmly awaiting death, which now seemed inevitable, he suddenly felt his feet free, and a beautiful lady appeared before him. She humbly bowing down said: "Let my lord pardon his servant for the injury which she has unconsciously caused. I am an Apsaras, born from the rays of the moon. One day, as I was flying through the air, wearing a white dress, a swan, mistaking me for a lotus flower, attacked me. While struggling to keep off the bird, the string of my necklace broke, and the pearls fell on the grey head of a very holy rishi, bathing, in the clear water of a Himâlayan lake. "In his anger, he cursed me, saying: 'O wicked one, for this offence you are condemned to be changed into a piece of unconscious metal.' "When, however, I entreated forgiveness, he was so far appeased, that he modified the curse, and granted that I should still retain consciousness, and remain as a fetter on your feet for two months only. "The change took place immediately, and I fell to the ground, turned into a silver chain. "About this time, Vírasekhara, a Vidyâdhara, partly of human descent, had become acquainted with Darpasâra, then performing penance on the great mountain; and thinking he might get assistance from him in a feud in which he was involved, had made an alliance with him, and engaged to marry his sister, the Princess Avantisundari. "Being desirous of visiting his intended bride, he flew through the air to Avanti. On his way he saw the silver fetter, descended to the ground, picked it up, and continued his flight. "Having made himself invisible, he entered without difficulty the apartment of the princess, and was astonished and enraged on finding her lying in your arms. His first impulse was to kill you; but some irresistible influence restrained him, so that he contented himself with putting the silver fetter on your feet, and departed without otherwise disturbing you. "You have, in consequence, suffered all this misery. Now my transformation is ended, and you are so far free; tell me what I can do for you in atonement for the suffering which I have caused?" The prince, not thinking of himself, said only, "Go at once to her who is dearer to me than life, and comfort her with news of me." At that moment a great clamour was heard, and some persons, rushing from the interior of the palace, called out, loudly, "Help! help! Chandavarma is murdered! killed by an assassin, who stabbed him as he was about to take the hand of the princess; and that man is now moving about the palace, cutting down all who attempt to seize him." Râjavâhana, when he heard this, without losing a moment, and before the guards had perceived his feet to be unfettered, with a sudden spring leapt on the elephant intended for his destruction; and having thrust off the driver, urged the beast at a rapid pace, pushing aside the crowd right and left as he went. Having got into the courtyard, he shouted with a loud voice, "Who is the brave man that has done this great deed, hardly to be accomplished by a mere mortal? Let him come forth and join me; we two united are a match for a whole army." The slayer of Chandavarma hearing this, came out of the palace, and quickly mounting the elephant, who held down his trunk to receive him, placed himself behind the prince. Great was their mutual astonishment and joy when they recognised each other, the prince exclaiming, "Is it possible? Is it really you, my dear friend Apahâravarma, who have done this deed?" and the other saying, "Do I indeed see my Lord Râjavâhana?" Having thus recognised and embraced each other, they turned the elephant round, and passing through the crowd in the courtyard, went into the main street, now thronged by soldiers. Through these they forced their way, employing with good effect the weapons placed on the elephant for the use of Chandavarma. Before, however, they had gone far, they heard the noise of battle at a distance, and saw the soldiers in front of them scattered in all directions. Soon they saw coming towards them a very well-dressed, handsome man, riding on a swift elephant. On reaching them, he made obeisance to the prince, saying, "I am sure this is my Lord Râjavâhana;" and then turning to Apahâravarma, said, "I have followed your directions exactly, and hastened on the advancing allies. We have just now encountered and utterly defeated the enemy, so that there is no fear of any further resistance." Then Apahâravarma introduced the stranger to the prince, saying, "This is my dear friend Dhanamittra, well worthy of your respect and consideration; for he is as brave and clever as he is handsome. With your permission, he will liberate the King of Anga, and re-establish the former authorities; meanwhile, we will go on to a quiet place, and wait there for him and the princes who have come so opportunely to our assistance." Râjavâhana agreed to this. They went a little further, and dismounted at a pleasant cool bank, shaded by a large banian tree, and close to the Ganges. When they had been for some time seated there, Dhanamittra returned, accompanied by Upahâravarma, Pramati, Mitragupta, Mantragupta, Visruta, Prahâravarma King of Mithila, Kâmapâla lord of Benâres, and Sinhavarma King of Anga. The prince, astonished and delighted at such an unexpected meeting, warmly embraced his young friends, and very respectfully saluted, as a son, the elder men introduced by them. Many questions were asked on both sides. After some conversation, Râjavâhana told them his own adventures, and those of Somadatta and Pushpodbhava, and then begged his friends to relate theirs. Apahâravarma spoke first. * * * * * ADVENTURES OF APAHÂRAVARMA. My Lord, when you had gone away with the brahman, and we were unable to find you, I wandered about searching for you like the rest of your friends. One day I heard by chance of a very famous muni, living in a forest on the banks of the Ganges, not far from Champa, who was said to have supernatural knowledge of past and future events. Hoping to obtain some information about you, I determined to seek him out, and accordingly came here for that purpose. Having found the way to his dwelling, I saw there a miserable-looking man, very unlike the holy devotee whom I had pictured to myself. Sitting down, however, beside this person, I said, "I have come a long way to consult the celebrated rishi Mâríchi, having heard that he is possessed of very wonderful knowledge. Can you tell me where to find him?" Deeply sighing, he answered: "There was, not long ago, such a person in this place; but he is changed--he is no longer what he was." "How can that be?" I asked. "One day," he replied, "while that muni was engaged in prayer and meditation, he was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a famous actress and dancer, called Kâmamanjari, who, with dishevelled hair and eyes full of tears, threw herself at his feet. "Before he had time to ask the meaning of this, a confused crowd of her companions came up, headed by an old woman, the mother of Kâmamanjari, apparently in great agitation and distress. "When they were all a little quieted, he asked the girl the meaning of her tears, and for what purpose she had come to him. "She answered, apparently with great respect and bashfulness, 'O reverend sir, I have heard of your great wisdom, and your kindness to those who are willing to give up the pleasures of this world for the sake of the next. I am tired of the disgraceful life I am leading, and wish to renounce it.' Upon this, her mother, with her loose grey hairs touching the ground, interrupted her, and said, 'Worthy sir, this daughter of mine would make it appear that I am to blame, but indeed I have done my duty, and have carefully prepared her for that profession for which, by birth, she was intended. From earliest childhood I have bestowed the greatest care upon her, doing everything in my power to promote her health and beauty. As soon as she was old enough, I had her carefully instructed in the arts of dancing, acting, playing on musical instruments, singing, painting, preparing perfumes and flowers, in writing and conversation, and even to some extent in grammar, logic, and philosophy. She was taught to play various games with skill and dexterity, and how to dress well, and show herself off to the greatest advantage in public; I hired persons to go about praising her skill and beauty, and to applaud her when she performed in public, and I did many other things to promote her success, and to secure for her liberal remuneration; yet, after all the time, trouble, and money which I have spent upon her, just when I was beginning to reap the fruit of my labours, the ungrateful girl has fallen in love with a stranger, a young brahman, without property, and wishes to marry him and give up her profession, notwithstanding all my entreaties, and representations of the poverty and distress to which all her family will be reduced if she persists in her purpose; and because I oppose this marriage, she declares that she will renounce the world, and become a devotee.' "The muni compassionately said to the girl: 'You will never be able to endure the hardships of such a life as you propose to lead--a life so different from that to which you have been accustomed. Heaven may be attained by all who duly perform the duties of their station; take my advice then, give up all thoughts of an undertaking which you will never accomplish, comply with your mother's wishes, return with her, and be content with that way of life in which you have been brought up.' "With many tears, she replied: 'If you will not receive me I will put an end to my wretched life.' "Finding her so determined, the muni, after some reflection, said to the mother and her companions: 'Go away for the present; come back after a few days; I will give her good advice, and you will no doubt find her tired of living here, and quite ready to return.' "Thereupon they all went away, and she was left alone with the muni. At first she kept at a distance from him, taking care not to interrupt him in his meditations, but waiting on him unobtrusively, rendering him many little services, watering his favourite trees, and gathering sacred grass, and flowers for offerings to the gods. Then, as he became more accustomed to her, she would amuse him with songs and dances, and at last began to sit near him and talk of the pleasures of love. "One day, as if in all simplicity, she said 'Surely people are very wrong in reckoning virtue, wealth and pleasure as the three great objects of life?' "'Tell me,' he answered, 'how far do you regard virtue as superior to the other two?' "'A very wise man like you,' she replied, 'can hardly learn anything from an ignorant woman like me; but since you ask, I will tell you what I think. There is no real acquisition of happiness or wealth without virtue; but the latter is quite independent of the other two. Without it, a man is nothing; but if he fully possesses it, he is so purified by it that he may indulge in pleasures occasionally, and any sin connected with them will no more adhere to him than dust to a cloud. Look at all the stories of the amours of the gods. Are they the less worshipped on that account? I think, therefore, that virtue is a hundred times superior to the other two.' With many such specious arguments as these, and by her winning ways, she contrived to make him madly in love; so that, forgetting all his religious duties and former austerities, he thought only how to please her. "When she perceived this, she said to him 'Let us stay no longer in the forest, but go to my house in the town, where we can have many more enjoyments.' Utterly infatuated, he was ready to do her bidding; and she, having procured a covered carriage, took him in the evening to her own house. "The next day there was a great festival, at which the king was accustomed to appear in public and converse familiarly with his subjects. On such occasions he would often be surrounded by actresses and dancing girls. "On that day Kâmamanjari persuaded the muni to put on a gay dress and accompany her to the park where the festival was held; and he, thinking only of her, and miserable if she were away from him even for a short time, consented to go. On their arrival there, she walked with him towards the king, who, seeing her, said, with a smile: 'Sit down here with that reverend man.' And all eyes were directed towards him. "Presently one of the ladies rose up, and, making a low obeisance to the king, said: 'My lord; I must confess myself beaten by that lady; I have lost my wager and must now pay the penalty.' "Then a great shout of laughter arose; the king congratulated Kâmamanjari, and presented her with handsome ornaments. "After this she walked away with the astonished muni, followed by a great crowd, shouting applause. "Before reaching her own house, she turned round to him with a low obeisance, and said: 'Reverend sir, you have favoured me with your company a long time; it will be well for you to attend now to your own affairs.' "Not having his eyes yet opened, he started as if thunderstruck, and said: 'My dear, what does all this mean? What has become of the great love which you professed for me?' "She smilingly answered: 'I will explain it all.' "'One day, that lady whom you saw in the park had a dispute with me as to which was the most attractive. At last she said: "You boast of your powers, forsooth; go and try them on Mâríchi. If you can persuade him to accompany you here, then indeed you may triumph; I will acknowledge myself your inferior." "'This was the reason of my coming to you; the trick has been successful; I have won my wager, and have now no further occasion for you.' "Bowed down by shame and remorse, the unhappy man slunk back to his hermitage, miserable and degraded, bitterly lamenting his folly and infatuation, but resolved to atone for it by deep repentance and severe penance. "I am that wretched man; you see, therefore, that I am now quite unable to assist you. But do not go away; remain in Champa. After a time I shall recover my former power." While he was telling me this sad story, the sun set, and I remained with him that night. The next morning, at sunrise, I took leave of him, and walked towards the city. On my way thither, as I passed a Buddhist monastery, I was struck by the appearance of a man sitting at the side of the road near it. He was extraordinarily ugly; his body naked, with the exception of a rag round his waist; and his face so covered with dirt, that the tears he was shedding left furrows as they rolled down his cheeks. Moved by compassion, I sat down near him, and inquired the reason of his distress, at the same time adding, "If it is a secret, I do not wish to intrude upon you." "'My misfortunes are well known,' he answered; 'I can have no objection to telling you if you wish to hear them.' Then he began: "My name is Vasupâlika; but from my ugliness I am generally known as Virúpaka,--the deformed. I am the son of a man of some importance here, who left me a large fortune. "Among my acquaintance there was a person called Sundaraka, remarkably handsome, but poor. Between us two some mischievous persons strove to excite a rivalry, pitting my money against his beauty and accomplishments. "One day, in a large assembly, having got up a dispute between us, they said: 'It is not beauty or wealth, but the approbation of the ladies, which stamps the worth of a man; therefore, let the famous actress, Kâmamanjari, decide between you, and agree that she shall say who is the best man.' To this we both assented, and she, having been previously prepared for the part which she was to perform, was brought into the room, and passing by my rival with scorn, sat down by my side, and, taking a garland from her own head, placed it on mine. "Greatly flattered and delighted by this preference, and blinded by a mad love for her, which I had not ventured to express, I most readily gave myself up to her seductions, and in a very short time she obtained such an influence over me that everything I possessed was at her disposal. Before long, she had so plundered me, and led me into such extravagance, that I was reduced to the most abject poverty, and had nothing I could call my own but this miserable rag which you now see me wear. "Cast off by her, blamed and reproached by the elder men, laughed at and despised by those who had been my companions in prosperity, I knew not where to turn; and as a last resource I entered this Buddhist monastery, where I obtain a bare subsistence. "Distressed by the cutting off of my long hair, and by numerous restrictions as to eating, drinking, and sleeping, like a newly-caught elephant; and hearing every day abuse of those gods whom I used to worship; filled with remorse for my departure from the religion of my ancestors; I am utterly miserable and only wish for death." Having heard this pitiable story, I did what I could to comfort him, and said, "Do not despair; I have heard already of that wicked woman, and think I shall be able to find some means of making her restore to you a part at least of your property." After leaving him, I went into the city, and finding, from popular report, that it was full of rich misers, I resolved to bring them to their proper condition by taking away their useless wealth. Occupied by this thought, I went into a gaming-house, where I was much interested and amused by watching the players and observing their tricks, their sleight-of-hand, their bullying or cringing behaviour to each other; the reckless profusion of the winners, the muttering despair of those who had lost. While overlooking a game of chess, I smiled and made some remark about a bad move of one of the players, upon which his opponent, turning to me with a sneer, said "No doubt you think yourself very clever, but wait till I have finished off this stupid fellow, and I will play you for any stake you like." When the game was over, accepting his challenge, I sat down to play, and won altogether sixteen thousand dínars. Half of this sum I kept for myself, and half I divided between the gaming-house keeper and the players who were present. The latter were loud in praise of my generosity, and of the skill which I had shown in beating that boaster; the former asked me to dine with him, and I often went to his house and became very intimate with him, and obtained from him much information, especially such as had reference to my purpose. One very dark night, fully directed by him, I set out, determined on robbery, equipped with a dark dress, a short sword, a spade, a crowbar, a pair of pincers, a wooden man's head,[4] a magic candle, a rope and grappling-iron, a box with a bee in it,[5] and some other implements. Selecting a house where I knew there was much money, I made a hole in the wall, and finding all quiet, enlarged it, entered boldly, and carried off much booty. As I was returning, looking cautiously about me, I came suddenly upon a young woman, who was much alarmed at seeing me. Perceiving her agitation, I spoke to her kindly, and assured her that I would much rather assist than injure her. Encouraged by my words, she told me her story: "My name is Kulapâlika; I am the daughter of a rich merchant in this city, and was from childhood engaged to the son of another rich man, named Dhanamittra: he, however, being of a very generous disposition, when he had succeeded to his father's property was preyed on by pretended friends and reduced to comparative poverty. Seeing this, my father refused his consent to our marriage, and, in spite of my reluctance, is determined to give me to a rich man, called Arthapati. To escape this marriage, I have slipped out from home by a secret passage, rarely used, and am going to the house of my lover, who is expecting me and will take me away to some other country; pray do not detain me, but accept this." So saying, she put one of her ornaments into my hand. I did not refuse it, but walked by her side, intending to escort her to her destination. We had, however, only gone a few steps, when I saw coming towards us, at no great distance, a large body of the citizen guard. Without losing a moment, I said to the trembling girl, "Don't be alarmed; say that I have been bitten by a serpent, and I will manage the rest." By the time they reached us I had thrown myself on the ground, and lay as if insensible, and she stood over me, crying. On being questioned, she answered, with many tears, and in evident distress: "My husband and I, coming from the country, lost our way, and have only lately entered the city. Just now he was bitten by a serpent, and is all but dead. Is there any one among you skilled in charms who can recover him?" Among the guard there chanced to be a very conceited man, who had often boasted of his skill, and was now delighted to have an opportunity of displaying it. He stood over me while the others waited, and, with many gesticulations, muttered various charms supposed to be efficacious in such a case; but finding all of no avail, said at last, "Ah! it is too late; the poor man is past all remedies: what a pity I did not see him sooner!" Then, joining his companions, who were impatient to be off, he turned to the sobbing girl and said: "He was evidently fated to die; who can prevail over fate? It is useless to lament; nothing more can be done now; wait a little while, and when we come back we will remove the body." As soon as they were out of sight I rose up, took her to the house of Dhanamittra, and said to him: "I met this lady just now; I have brought her safely here, and now restore the ornament which she gave me in her fright; for, though I am a robber, I would not steal from one like her." Delighted at seeing her, he answered: "O, sir, you have indeed rendered me a great service in bringing this dear one in safety here; such conduct is very extraordinary in a man of your way of life, and I am quite unable to understand your motives for acting thus. At all events, I am under very great obligation to you; command my services in future." After some further talk, I asked him: "Friend, what do you now intend to do?" "It will be impossible," he answered, "for me to live here if I marry her without her father's consent; I propose, therefore, to leave the town with her this very night." "A clever man," I replied, "is at home in any place. Wherever he goes he may say this is my country. But, in travelling, many hardships must be endured--hunger, thirst, fatigue, and dangers from men and wild beasts;--how will this tender girl be able to bear them? "You seem to be wanting in wisdom and forethought in thus abandoning home and country. Take courage! be guided by me, and you shall marry her and live comfortably here. But first we must take her back to her father's house." To this he consented without hesitation, and we set out at once. Guided by her, we entered through the secret passage, carried off everything of value, and got away without exciting alarm. Having hidden our booty in some old ruins, we were going home, when we fell in with some of the city guard. Fortunately, there chanced to be an elephant tied up at the side of the road. We quickly, therefore, unfastened the rope, mounted him, and urged him at full speed; and before the watchmen could recover from their confusion, were out of sight. Halting the elephant close to the wall of a deserted garden, we got over it with the help of the trees growing there, escaped on the other side, and reached home undetected, where we bathed and went to bed. The next day we walked out carefully dressed, and were amused at hearing an exaggerated account of our adventures of the preceding night, which had caused much alarm and excitement in the city. I had hoped, by robbing the old man, to prevent the marriage of his daughter with Arthapati. But this hope was frustrated; for the latter was not only willing to take Kulapâlika without a dowry, but even made presents to her father; and it was settled that the marriage should take place at the end of a month. Finding this to be the case, I felt that something more must be done; and having hit upon a plan which I thought would be effectual, I gave Dhanamittra directions how to act. Accordingly, a few days afterwards, he went to the king, to whom he was previously known, and having asked for a private audience, said: "A very wonderful thing has happened to me, of which it seems right that your majesty should be informed. You have known me as Dhanamittra, the son of a very rich man. During my prosperity, I was engaged to the daughter of a wealthy merchant; but when I was reduced to poverty, he refused his consent to our marriage, and is now about to give her to another. "Driven to despair by the double loss of fortune and wife, I went into a wood near the city, intending to put an end to my wretched life. "There, when in the act of cutting my throat, I was stopped by a very aged devotee, who asked the cause of the rash act. "'Poverty, and contempt,' I answered. "'There is nothing more foolish and sinful than suicide,' he replied. 'A man of sense will endure adversity rather than escape from it in such a manner. Wealth, when lost, may be regained in many ways; but life in none. A broken fortune may be repaired; a cut throat can never be joined again. But why should I preach to you thus? Here is a remedy for your misfortunes. This leather bag will give you abundant wealth. I have used it for assisting the deserving; but now I am old and infirm, and am not long for this world. I give it to you. "'Go home; if you possess anything wrongfully acquired, restore it to the right owner, and give away the rest of your property to brahmans and the poor. When this has been done, put away the purse carefully; and in the morning it will be found full of gold. Remember that whoever possesses it must comply with these conditions, and that it will yield its treasures only to a merchant like yourself, or to an actress.' "With these words, he handed me the purse, and immediately disappeared. "I have now brought the purse to your majesty, to know your pleasure concerning it." The king, though much astonished, believing the story, told him to keep and enjoy it; and in answer to his entreaty, promised that any one attempting to steal it should be severely punished. After this, Dhanamittra, making no secret of his acquisition of the purse, disposed of all his property somewhat ostentatiously, leaving himself absolutely nothing but the clothes which he wore; and in the morning, having filled the purse with gold--the proceeds of the robbery--he showed it to his neighbours, who were fully convinced of its magic powers. The fame of the purse was thus spread abroad; and we were able to account for our newly-acquired wealth, without incurring any suspicion as to the manner of obtaining it. At this time; for reasons which will presently appear, I induced Vimardaka to enter the service of Arthapati; and directed him to use all possible means to excite his master against Dhanamittra. In this he had no difficulty; for the father of Kulapâlika, hearing of his sudden acquisition of wealth, did not even wait to be asked, but of his own accord renewed the former engagement, and rejected Arthapati. About that time it was publicly announced that a younger sister of Kâmamanjari--Râgamanjari by name--would make her first appearance as a dancer and singer. Great expectations having been raised, a large number of spectators, including myself and my friend Dhanamittra, were present at the performance. I was struck by her beauty the instant she appeared on the stage; but when I heard her sweet voice, and saw her graceful movements, I was perfectly enchanted, and unable to take my eyes off her for a moment. The performance being ended, she withdrew, followed by the longing eyes and loud applause of the spectators; and giving, as I fancied, a significant look at me. The next day I was anxious, restless, and unable to eat; and could do nothing but roam about listlessly, or lie on the couch, thinking of her, and making the excuse of a bad headache. My friend, seeing me in this state, easily guessed the reason of it, and said to me in private: "I know the cause of your uneasiness, and can give you good hopes. That girl is virtuous, whatever her mother and sister may be; and having watched her closely at the performance, I am convinced that she was much struck with you; therefore, if you are willing to make her your wife, there will be no great difficulties to overcome as far as she is concerned; for, resisting all seductions and the persuasions of her wicked mother and sister, she has declared: 'No man shall have me except as a wife; and I must be won by merit, not by money.' "On the other hand, her mother and sister, fearing lest she should be withdrawn from the stage, have gone to the king, and obtained, through many tears and entreaties, a decree that if any man shall take the girl, either in marriage or not, without her mother's consent, he shall be put to death like a robber. Therefore, when you have gained her love, you must also obtain the mother's consent; and that can only be done by means of a large bribe; she will not listen to any other inducement." "I am equal to all this," I answered; "I will win the young lady, and find means to satisfy the old one." And I lost no time in accomplishing my purpose. It was first necessary to make acquaintance with Kâmamanjari, and to this end I found out a woman often employed by her as a messenger, and having gained her over by bribes, sent, through her, a number of small presents, till at last Kâmamanjari was disposed in my favour, and received me at her house. Meanwhile I contrived to have secret interviews with her beautiful sister, who consented to be my wife. As soon as this was settled, I said to Kâmamanjari, "I am desirous of obtaining your mother's consent to my marriage with your sister, who has accepted me. I know that if she ceases to perform, you will lose a large income; and, therefore, offer you in return something better and more certain. Procure for me the desired permission, and you shall have Dhanamittra's magic purse, which I will safely steal for you." Delighted at the thought of possessing inexhaustible wealth, she agreed to this; the mother's consent was formally given; and on the day of my marriage I secretly handed over the promised purse. Very soon after, Vimardaka, by my directions, in a large assembly, began to abuse and insult Dhanamittra, who, as if much astonished, said: "What does all this mean? Why should you annoy me? I am not aware that I have ever given you offence." He answered furiously: "You purse-proud wretch, do you think I will not take my master's part? Have you not robbed him of his intended wife, by bribing her father? Do you think he has no cause for anger against you? His interests are mine; I am ready to risk my life for him, and I will pay you off. Some day you shall miss that purse, the source of the riches with which you are so puffed up." Saying this, he rushed out of the place in a rage; and though nothing was done at the time, his words were not forgotten. Then Dhanamittra went to the king, and declaring that he had lost the purse, mentioned his suspicion of Arthapati, and the reason for it. He, having heard nothing of what his servant had said, when summoned and asked "Have you a confidential servant named Vimardaka?" answered without hesitation, "Certainly; he is a very trustworthy man, entirely devoted to my interest." "Bring him here to me." Thus commanded, he searched everywhere for his servant, but was unable to find him; and for a good reason, for I had furnished the man with money, and sent him to Oujein, to look for you. The supposed thief having disappeared, his master was put in prison till further evidence could be procured, for no one but those in the secret doubted that he was the instigator of the theft. Meanwhile Kâmamanjari, anxious to make use of the magic purse, proceeded to fulfil the conditions attached to its use. She went secretly to Virúpaka, and restored the money of which she had robbed him, and then gave away all her furniture, clothes, and ornaments. This, however, she did so incautiously, that attention was drawn to it; upon which Dhanamittra went again to the king, saying: "I suspect that the actress, Kâmamanjari, has got my purse; for though notoriously avaricious, she is giving away everything she possesses, and there must be some strong reason for such a proceeding." In consequence of this information, she was summoned to appear the next day, together with her mother; and the two women came in great alarm to consult me. I said to Kâmamanjari: "No doubt you are suspected of having the purse. This suspicion has arisen from your own imprudence, in giving away your property so openly. I much fear that you will have to give it up, and you will be fortunate if you escape without worse consequences. But you must on no account implicate me; for then I should be put to death, all my property would be confiscated, your sister would die of grief, and you would be utterly ruined." She answered, with many tears: "It is indeed my own fault, but you shall be safe. That niggardly wretch, Arthapati, is known to be intimate with me. I will say that I received it from him; and, as he is already suspected of stealing it, I shall probably be believed." To this I agreed, and the next day, when questioned, she at first denied all knowledge of the purse, then admitted having received it, but refused to say from whom, and at last, when threatened with torture, confessed, apparently with great reluctance, that Arthapati was the giver; and this being considered sufficient evidence against him, he was condemned to death. Then Dhanamittra interceded for him, saying. "A decree was formerly made by one of your ancestors, that no merchant or trader should be put to death for theft. I humbly entreat, therefore, that his life may be spared." To this the king consented, the poor wretch was banished, and all his property confiscated, a portion of it being given to Kâmamanjari, at the earnest entreaty of Dhanamittra, who got back his purse, and shortly afterwards married Kulapâlika. Having thus performed the promise to my friend, I increased my own wealth, and kept up the reputation of the purse by going on with my robberies, and so impoverished the rich misers, that some of them were glad to receive a morsel of food from the beggars to whom they had formerly refused help, and who were now enriched by my liberality. Still no suspicion fell on me; but fate is all-powerful, and it was decreed that I should be caught at last. One night, sitting with my charming wife, intoxicated, partly with wine and partly with her sweet caresses, I was seized with madness, and started up, saying: "All the wealth in the city is not too much for you; I will fill the house with jewels for your sake." Then, like a furious elephant who has broken his chain, I rushed out, in spite of her remonstrances, with a drawn sword, and attacked a body of police, who happened to be passing. Shouting out, "This is the robber!" they soon overpowered me, and I fell to the ground. The shock sobered me at once, and all the horror of the situation into which I had brought myself by my folly came into my mind. I thought to myself, my intimacy with Dhanamittra is well known; suspicion will fall on him; and unless I can turn it off, he, as well as my wife, will be arrested to-morrow; and I quickly formed a plan by which they, and perhaps I myself, might be saved. But no time was to be lost; and as they were about to take me away, I called out to my wife's nurse, Sringâlika, who had followed me, "Begone, old wretch! and tell that vile harlot your mistress, and her paramour, Dhanamittra, that she will never see her ornaments, nor he his magic purse again. I care not for life, if I am revenged on those two wretches." The old woman being remarkably quick-witted, at once understood my object in speaking thus, and very humbly accosting the police said: "Worthy sir, I entreat you to wait a moment, while I ask your prisoner where he has hid the ornaments of my mistress." To, this they assented, and coming to me, she said: "O, sir, your jealousy is without cause; whatever attentions that man may have paid my mistress, she is not to blame. Now that you are taken from her, she will have no means of support, and must go on the stage again. How can she do this without her ornaments? Take compassion on her, and say where you have hid them." Then, as if my anger were appeased, I answered: "Why should I, who am about to die, harbour resentment? Come close, and I will whisper where I have put them." In this manner I managed to give her a few hurried instructions. She went away, with many blessings on me, and thanks to the men for their kindness; and I was taken to the king's prison. At that time the governor of the prison was a very conceited young man, named Kantaka, who had lately succeeded to the office by the death of his father. When I was brought in, looking at me in a very contemptuous manner, he said: "So you are the thief who has committed so many robberies. If you do not give up the stolen property, and especially the magic purse, you shall suffer every possible variety of torture before you are put to death." I answered, smiling, "Even though I should give up all the other stolen property, I will never let the purse go back to that wretch Dhanamittra, my greatest enemy. You may try all your tortures; you will never get this secret out of me." Finding the fear of torture to have no effect, the next day he tried promises; and so went on from day to day, with alternate soothing and threatening. Meanwhile, my wounds were attended to, and I was well fed; so that I had regained my strength when, one day, Sringâlika made her appearance, well dressed, and with cheerful countenance. To my surprise, she was allowed to speak to me in private. She said to me, joyfully "Your plan has succeeded. As you directed, I went to Dhanamittra and told him, from you: 'You must go to the king, and say, "The magic purse so lately restored has again been stolen by one whom I regarded as a friend--a certain gambler, the husband of the actress Râgamanjari. He has taken it from spite, being jealous of his wife, to whom, from kindness, I often made presents. He is now in prison for other offences; and if, he is put to death immediately, as he deserves, I fear that I shall never recover my purse. I pray, therefore, that he may not be executed before he has confessed where it is concealed. For he admits having taken it; but declares that he will not give it up, unless his life is spared." Your friend, admiring your ingenuity, and having full confidence in your resources, immediately went to the king and obtained his request, so that your life is safe for the present.' "Meanwhile, with the help of gifts furnished by my mistress, I have formed an intimacy with the nurse of the Princess Ambâlika, and have been introduced by her to the princess, whose favour I have gained by telling her amusing stories, and whom I have induced to feel an interest in the misfortune of my mistress. "One day, when I was standing near her in the gallery round the court-yard of the palace, Kantaka, having some business or other, passed through below us. Picking up a flower which the princess had dropped, I let it fall on his head; and when he looked up to see from whose hand it came, I managed to make the princess laugh at something which I said; and the conceited fool, thinking that it was she who had dropped it to attract his attention, went away looking quite pleased and confused. "That same evening I received a present for my mistress, a small basket marked with the signet of the princess, and containing articles of no great value. This I took to Kantaka; and begging him to observe the strictest secrecy, made him believe that the princess had sent it to him. He was even delighted when, another day, I brought him a dirty dress, telling him that she had worn it. "Finding him quite ready to believe this, and convinced that she was in love with him, I kept up an imaginary correspondence, bringing very loving messages from her, which I invented, and receiving many from him in return, which I took care not to deliver. His presents, of course, I kept for myself. "In this manner I have raised his hopes very high; and to encourage him still further, I said: 'I have heard from a learned astrologer, with whom I am acquainted, that you have certain marks upon you which indicate that you will one day be a king. This love on the part of the princess tends to the fulfilment of the prediction. You are therefore on the high road to fortune. If you have spirit enough to pursue it, all you have to do now is to obtain a secret interview with the lady; the rest will follow in due time.' "'But how can I manage this?' he asked. 'The wall of the garden,' I replied, 'communicating with the princess's apartments, is separated from those of the gaol by a space of a few yards only. You could not get over these walls; but you might make an underground passage, and slip in unobserved; and I will take care that there shall be some one to receive and conduct you to the princess. When once with her, you are safe; for all her attendants are attached to her; not one would betray the secret.' "'But how can I make this underground passage?' he asked. 'I cannot dig it myself, or employ workmen.' "'Have you no clever thief here,' I replied, 'accustomed to such work?' "'Well suggested,' he answered. 'I have just the right man.' "'Who is he?' I said. "'That man who has stolen the magic purse,' said he. 'If he will set to work with a good will he will soon dig his way through.' "'Very good,' I answered. 'You must persuade him by promising to let him go when the work is done. But it would never do for him to be in the secret; therefore, when he has finished, put on his fetters again, and report to the king that he is exceedingly obstinate; that you have tried all other means to make him confess, and that nothing remains but to put him to torture. No doubt the king will give orders accordingly; and you can easily manage so to inflict it that he shall die under it. When he is dead, your secret will be safe; you can visit the princess as often as you like; and, doubtless, in the end the king, rather than disgrace his daughter, will consent to your marriage; and as he has no other child, will make you his successor.' "With this proposal he was quite delighted; and has been treating you well, that you may have strength for the work. He intends to ask you to begin to-night; and has sent me to persuade you, believing me to be devoted to his interests, and looking forward to some great reward when he has got his wish." Having heard this from the old woman, I gave her great praise, and said: "Lose no time. Tell him I am quite ready to do the work." After this, Kantaka came to me, told me what he wanted, and swore a solemn oath that I should be liberated when the work was done; and I, in return, swore to keep his secret. Then he took off my fetters; I got a bath and a good dinner, and presently set to work in a dark corner, under the wall. Soon after midnight the work was done, and an opening made into the courtyard of the women's apartments. Before returning, I thought to myself "This man has sworn an oath which he intends to break: for the preservation of my own life, therefore, I shall be justified in killing him." Having formed this resolution, I went back to the prison, where Kantaka was waiting for me. He told me it was necessary to replace my fetters for the present; and I appeared to acquiesce. But as he was stooping to fasten them, I gave him a violent kick; and before he could recover himself, I had snatched a short sword which he wore, and cut off his head. I then returned to Sringâlika, who had remained in the prison, and said to her: "I am not disposed to have had all this toil for nothing. Tell me the way into the ladies' rooms. I will go there and steal something before I make my escape." Having received her directions, I passed again through the tunnel which I had made, came up into the court-yard; and from thence entered a large, lofty room lighted by jewelled lamps, where a number of women were sleeping. There, on a couch ornamented with beautifully carved flowers and resting on lions' feet, I saw the princess, covered only by a thin silken petticoat, half sunk into a soft white feather-bed, like lightning on an autumn cloud. Fast asleep, as if wearied by much play, she lay in a very graceful attitude, with her delicate ancles crossed, her knees slightly drawn up; one lovely hand laid loosely on her side, the other beneath her head; her full bosom, slowly heaved by gentle breathing, illuminated by the ruby necklace strung on burnished gold; the top-knot of her loosened hair hanging down like some graceful flower; her lips so bright that the opening of the mouth could hardly be distinguished; her features in calm repose, shaded by her lovely ringlets. I had entered so softly that no one was disturbed; and I stood gazing for some time lost in admiration of her beauty, quite forgetting the purpose for which I had come. I thought, she is, after all, the lady of my heart. If I do not obtain her, Kâma will not suffer me to live; but how can I make known my love to her? Were I now to wake her, she would start up with a cry of alarm, and I should probably lose my life. I must think of some other way of letting her know my love. Then, looking round, I saw laid on a shelf a thin board prepared for painting, and a box of paints and brushes. With these I made a hasty sketch of the princess as she lay, and of myself kneeling at her feet, and underneath it I wrote this verse:-- "Of thee thy slave in humble attitude thus prays: Sleep on, not worn like me by pervading love." I then painted on the wall near her a pair of chakravâkas in loving attitude, gently took off her ring, replacing it with mine, and slipped out without disturbing any of the sleepers. There was at that time among the prisoners a man named Sinhaghosha, formerly a chief officer of police, but now imprisoned through a false accusation made by Kantaka. With this man I had already made acquaintance, and I now went to him and told him how I had killed Kantaka. With his consent I went forth from the prison, and walked away with Sringâlika. We had not gone far when we fell in with a patrol. I thought to myself I could easily run away from them; but what would become of the poor old woman? she would certainly be caught. Hastily determining, therefore, on what was best to be done, I walked right up to them with unsteady gait and idiotic look, and said: "Sirs, if I am a thief kill me, but you have no right to touch this old woman." She, perceiving my intention, came up, and very humbly said: "Honoured sirs, this young man is my son. He has been for some time confined as a lunatic; but was supposed to be cured, and I brought him home yesterday. In the middle of the night, however, he started up, and calling out: 'I will kill Kantaka and make love to the king's daughter,' rushed out into the street. I have at last overtaken him, and am trying to take him home. Will you be so good as to help me, and tie his hands behind him that he may not get away again?" As she said this, I called out: "O old woman, who ever bound a god or the wind, Shall these crows catch an eagle?" and started off at full speed. She, renewing her entreaties, begged them to pursue me; but they only laughed at her, and said: "Do you think we have nothing to do but to run after madmen? You must be as mad as he is to have taken him out;" and so they went on their way. I stopped when I found I was not pursued. She soon overtook me, and we went to my house, to the great joy of my wife, who had scarcely hoped for my deliverance. In the morning I saw Dhanamittra, told him all that had happened, and thanked him for following my directions so punctually. After this I went to the forest, to see Mâríchi. I found him restored to his former condition, and able to give me the desired information. From him I learnt that you would be here about this time. In the morning after my escape, Sinhaghosha informed the king of what had happened, and how Kantaka had been killed when about to enter the princess's apartments. Being found to be innocent of the crime of which he was accused, he was appointed governor of the prison in Kantaka's place. Before the underground passage was filled up, he permitted me to pass through it more than once to the princess, who was favourably disposed towards me through the picture and verse, and still more by all that Sringâlika had said in my favour. No great search was made after me, and by keeping quiet and going out only at night I escaped further arrest. You know how Chandavarma besieged Champa, and how Sinhavarma was defeated and taken prisoner. When I heard this, and how the conqueror intended to force the princess to marry him, I went to Dhanamittra and said: "Do you go about among the ministers and officers of the imprisoned king and the principal citizens, and tell them to be ready to attack the enemy as soon as they hear of the death of Chandavarma. I will engage to kill him to-morrow." How Dhanamittra has performed his part you have just seen. As to myself, I put on a dress suitable for the occasion, and, as many persons were going in and out of the palace, managed to slip in unobserved and get very near the intending bridegroom. Suddenly stretching out my arm as he was about to take the hand of the princess, I gave him a mortal wound with a sword; then saying a few hasty words of encouragement to her, I defended myself against those who endeavoured to seize me, till I heard your welcome voice, deep as the sound of thunder, and had the happiness of embracing you. Râjavâhana, having heard this story, said "You have indeed shown wonderful ingenuity and courage;" then he turned to Upahâravarma, and said: "It is now your turn;" and he, having made due salutation, thus began:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF UPAHÂRAVARMA. While wandering about like the others, I cams one day into the country of Videha. Before entering into Mithila, the capital, I stopped to rest at a small temple, and found there an old woman, who gave me water for my feet. Observing that she looked at me very hard, and that tears came into her eyes, I asked her: "O, mother, what is the cause of your grief?" "You bring to my mind," she answered, the remembrance of my lost foster-child, who, if he lives, is just about your age. But I will tell you how he was lost. "Prahâravarma was formerly king of this country. His queen was a very dear friend of Vasumati; wife of Râjahansa, King of Magadha, and he went with her and his twin sons to visit that king. How he was conquered and driven from his dominions by the King of Mâlwa you have doubtless heard. It was shortly before that invasion that the visit was made. In the battle which was fought, Prahâravarma assisted his friend, and was taken prisoner, but was subsequently liberated. "When returning to his own kingdom, he heard that a rebellion had broken out, headed by his brother's son, Vikatavarma. He therefore turned aside through a forest road, in the direction of Suhma, hoping to obtain assistance from his sister's son, the king of that country. On the march, he was attacked and plundered by Bheels; and I, having charge of one of his children, was separated from the party, and left behind in the forest. "There I was attacked, by a tiger, and dropped the child. The tiger was killed by an arrow; but I fainted away, and when I recovered, the child was gone, taken away, I suppose, by the Bheels. Having been found and taken care of by a compassionate cowherd, I stayed at his cottage till my wounds were healed. "Longing to get back to my friends, and to hear some tidings of my mistress, I was surprised one day by the appearance of my daughter, who had been, with me, in charge of the other child. "After mutual congratulations and embraces, she told me her story as follows: 'After we were parted, I was wounded by the robbers, lost the child, and was found wandering about by one of the foresters, who took care of me, and afterwards wished to make me his wife. I was too much disgusted with him and his way of life to consent; and, after many threats, he would at last have killed me, but for the opportune arrival of a young man who happened to be passing, and rescued me from his hands. That young man has since become my husband. We have been searching for you, and have now happily found you.' "I asked who the man was. He answered: 'I am a servant of the King of Mithila, to whom I am now going.' Then we all three went to Mithila, and told the king and queen the sad news of the loss of their children. "The war was still going on, and at last the king was overcome and imprisoned, together with his queen, by his wicked nephew. "Since then I have been living as a mendicant. My daughter, whose husband was killed in the war, being destitute like myself, has entered the service of Kalpasundari, queen of the usurper. Ah! if those princes had lived, they would have rescued their father from such degradation." She began then to weep and lament; but I comforted her, and said: "Do you not remember speaking to a certain muni, and telling him of the loss of the child? That boy was found by him. I am he, and I will contrive some means for killing that wicked usurper, and setting my parents free. No one can recognise me here, not even my own mother, were she to see me; therefore I shall be able at my leisure to consider what is best to be done." Exceedingly delighted at hearing this, she kissed me again and again, and said, with tears of joy: "O, darling! a glorious fortune is before you. Now you are here, all will be well; you will soon lift up your parents from the sea of sorrow which has engulfed them. Happy is Queen Priyamvada in having such a son!" Then she gave me such food as she had, and I stayed with her, and passed the night in that temple. As I lay awake, I turned over in my mind every plan that suggested itself to me for the accomplishment of my purpose. Knowing how ready-witted women are in general, and their fondness for tricks and intrigues, it occurred to me that my foster-sister, from her position near the queen, might be able to give me material assistance. In the morning, after worshipping the gods, I began to question the old woman as to her knowledge of the interior of the palace, and asked whether she had frequent opportunities of seeing her daughter. Scarcely had she begun to answer my questions when I saw some one coming towards us, and she exclaimed: "O, Pushkarika, behold our master's son; that dear child whom I so carelessly lost in the forest was found and preserved, and is now restored to us." Great was the daughter's delight at seeing me; and, when her agitation had subsided, her mother said to her: "I was just beginning to tell my dear son something of the arrangement of the palace, and the habits of the inmates; but you can give him the required information much better than I can." In answer to this she told me all the arrangements of the palace, and added: "The Queen Kalpasundari, the daughter of the sovereign of Kumâra, is exceedingly beautiful and accomplished. She despises her husband, who is exceedingly ugly; but though unkindly treated, and neglected, she has hitherto been faithful to him." Hearing this, I said to her: "Whenever you have an opportunity, dwell on the king's licentiousness; find out, if possible, his scandalous amours; make much of them; tell her how other women have behaved in similar circumstances; in short, do everything to stir up her indignation and jealousy against him; and, as soon as possible, let me know what she says. You may help me greatly in this affair; therefore be diligent and observant, and be as much as possible with your mistress." Then I said to the old woman: "You must also play your part. You can be introduced to the queen as a woman skilled in charms and fortune-telling. When you get her to listen to you, make the most of the opportunity, and second your daughter's endeavours." They both promised to do their utmost. After they were gone I took a small house, close to the wall of the royal gardens, and waited patiently for the result. After some days the old woman came to me, and said: "Darling, we have done exactly as you wished. The queen has taken a great fancy to me, is very indignant with her husband, and thinks herself greatly to be pitied. What is now to be done?" I then painted a portrait of myself, and said: "Show this to the queen; she will no doubt admire it, and say: 'Is this a portrait or a fancy picture?' Then do you answer: 'Suppose it should be a portrait of some living person; what then?' And whatever she says in reply let me know as soon as possible." The next day she came to me again, and said: "When I showed your portrait to the queen, she gazed at it a long time, and seemed lost in admiration; then she exclaimed, 'Who can have painted this? Is it possible that such a handsome man can exist in the world? Surely there is no one here like this!' I answered, 'O lady, your admiration is quite natural, such a handsome man is very rarely to be found, but still there might be such a one; and if this should be really the portrait of a young man, longing to see you--not only thus handsome, but of good birth, very learned, accomplished, and good-tempered --what would you say then?' 'What would I say? I say, that if he will be mine, all that I can give him in return, myself, my heart, my body, my life, will be all too little. But surely you are only deceiving me; there never can be such a charming person as this picture represents.' "In answer to this, I said: 'I am not deceiving you. There is really such a person, a young prince, who is staying here in disguise; he saw you when you were walking in the public park, at the feast of Spring, and immediately became a mark for the arrows of Kâma. Moved by his entreaties, and seeing how suited you are to each other, I have ventured to take this means of making his passion known to you. If you will but consent to see him, however difficult access to you may be, his courage, prudence, and ingenuity are so great, that he will certainly effect it; only say what your pleasure is.' Then, finding her quite disposed to see you, I told her your real name and birth. After reflecting some time, she said, 'Mother, I will not conceal from you a circumstance which his name brings to my memory. My father was a great friend of the deposed king, and their queens were very much attached to each other. It was settled between them, that if the one had a son, and the other a daughter, the two children should be engaged for marriage; but when the Queen Priyamvada had lost her sons, my father gave me in marriage to Vikatavarma. This young prince was really destined to be my husband, and I ought to have had him, instead of that ugly wretch, who is stupid, ignorant of all the arts of pleasing, brutal, rebellious, cruel, boastful, false, and, above all, most insulting in his behaviour to me; only yesterday he ill-treated my favourite attendant, Pushkarika, and gathered flowers from a plant which I had especially cherished, to give to one of his paramours, a low vulgar woman, who is trying to put herself on an equality with me. He is in every way unsuited to me, and my misery is so great, that I am ready to catch at any means of escape from it. It was wretched enough while I thought on no one else, but now that I have heard of this charming young man, and seen his portrait, I will endure it no longer, whatever the consequences may be. Therefore, let him come to-morrow evening to the Madhavi bower in the garden. I am impatient to see him; even the hearing of him has filled my heart with love.'" When the old nurse had given me this account, I determined to risk the adventure, and obtained from her a minute description of the garden, the direction of the road and paths, the exact situation of the summerhouse where I was to meet the queen, and where the guards were stationed. Having carefully impressed all these details on my memory, I waited impatiently for the following night, and lay down to rest. As I lay I thought on the difficulty of the enterprise, of the sin of seducing the wife of another, and of what Râjavâhana and my other friends would say to such conduct. On the other hand, I seemed to be justified by the object I had in view; the liberation of my parents. Perplexed with these conflicting thoughts I fell asleep, and dreamed that Vishnu appeared to me, and said: "Go on boldly, without hesitation; what you are about to do, though it may seem sinful, is approved of by me." Encouraged by this vision, I rose in the morning, fully confirmed in my purpose. The tedious day came at last to an end, and darkness set in. When the proper time arrived, I put on a close-fitting dark dress, girded on my sword, and set out on the dangerous enterprise. Concealed at the edge of the ditch, I found a long bamboo, which the old woman had procured for me. This I laid across, and so got to the bottom of the wall. Then, cautiously raising it, I climbed to the top, just where a large heap of bricks had been piled up inside. Using these as steps, I got safely to the ground, and walked northward, through an avenue of champaka trees, where, as a favourable omen, I heard the low murmuring cry of a pair of chakravâkas. Taking an almost opposite direction, I saw before me what appeared to be a great building, and it was only by touching it that I found it to be a clump of trees. Going eastward, and turning once more to the south, I passed through some mango trees, and saw the light of a lantern shining among the leaves. I then knew that I was right, and went straight up to the bower, inside of which was a summer-house, with steps leading up to it, and spread with soft twigs and flowers for a carpet. The room was furnished with a handsome couch, a golden water-jar, trays of flowers, fans, &c. After I had been seated a short time, I heard the tinkling of ornaments and smelt a powerful perfume. Rising up hastily, I slipped out, and stood concealed by the shrubs outside. Presently I saw the lady enter; she looked about her, and not seeing me, was evidently disappointed and distressed. I heard her say, with a sad low voice, "Alas! I am deceived, he is not coming; O my heart, how can this be borne? O adorable Kâma, what have I done to offend thee, that thou thus burnest me and dost not reduce me to ashes?" Having heard this, I made my appearance, and said: "O lovely lady, do you ask how you have offended Kâma? You have given him great offence, since you disparage his beloved Rati by your form, his bow by your arched eyebrows, his arrows by your glances, his great friend, the perfumed wind of Malaya, by your sweet breath, the notes of his favourite bird by your voice. For all this Kâma justly torments you. But I have done nothing to offend him; why should he so distress me? Have pity on me, and cure the wound inflicted by the serpent of love, with the life-giving antidote of an affectionate look." Delighted at seeing me, she required no entreaty on my part, and readily yielded to my embrace; and, sitting down on the couch, we conversed as though we had been long acquainted. At last the time for separation arrived, and I rose up to go; but she with tears detained me, saying: "When you depart, my life seems to follow. If you go, let me go with you." I answered: "O my beloved, that is impossible. If you love me, be guided by me, and we shall soon meet again, not to be parted." This she readily promised, and I told her exactly what was to be done. Then quitting her with reluctance, I returned safely by the way I had come, and she went back to the palace. The next day she showed the picture to the king, who greatly admired it, and asked her where she had got it. She told him: "I have lately made acquaintance with a very wonderful old woman, who has travelled over many countries and seen many strange things; she is very skilful in charms, and has brought me this picture, saying: 'It has very great magical powers, and so confident am I in their efficacy that I ask for no payment or reward until you have fully proved them.' She tells me that if certain ceremonies are performed, and mantras which she has taught me, are recited in a retired spot at midnight, I shall be changed to a person exactly resembling the portrait, and shall have the power of transferring that form to you while I regain my own shape. I have thought it right to tell you this; but do not act hastily: show the picture to your ministers and consult them." The king, greatly astonished, but very desirous of obtaining such a handsome body, asked the opinion of his counsellors and younger brothers, and they saw no reason why the experiment should not be tried. The hour of midnight on the day of full moon was therefore appointed for the ceremony, and there was much talk in the city about it. "O the wonderful power of magic! Through the skill of the queen, the king will obtain a new body fit for a god." "But is there no danger?" "How can there be danger when the ceremony is to be performed by his own queen, in his own private gardens, where no stranger can enter? Besides, have not the learned and clever ministers and counsellors approved of it, and is it likely that they would be deceived?" The city was full of such talk as this, and the people awaited with impatience the night appointed for the working of the miracle. When the time arrived a great heap was made in a part of the garden where four roads met, not far from the summer-house, with large quantities of sandal-wood, lignaloes, and other sweet-smelling woods, camphor, silk dresses, sesamum, saffron, and various spices; and several animals, duly slaughtered by the priests, were laid upon it; and the fire having been lighted, every one withdrew except the king and queen. She then said to him: "You know how faithless you have been to me, and with this handsome body you will be a much greater attraction to other women. I know the fickleness of your disposition. Can you expect that I will confer on you this beauty for the sake of my rivals?" Then he threw himself at her feet, and said "O my darling, forgive my transgressions. I swear by everything solemn that in future I will keep to you only, and not even think of any other woman." After these and many other protestations, she appeared to be satisfied, and said: "Now withdraw to that clump of trees, and stay there till I ring the bell; then you may come again to the fire and see the wonderful change in me." Meanwhile, under cover of the thick smoke arising from the burning of all those substances, I had climbed the wall as before, and was standing in the summer-house when the queen came in. She said: "Everything is ready. I regard myself now as entirely yours; nothing shall part us any more;" and, throwing her arms round my neck, she kissed me again and again. Saying to her, "Stay here concealed while I finish the work," I quitted her, went to the place of sacrifice, and rang a bell hanging on a neighbouring tree; and the sound summoned the king, like a messenger of death. He found me standing by the fire, throwing on it more sandal-wood, lignaloes, and other precious things; and as he stood gazing in fear and astonishment, and hardly believing his eyes, I said to him: "Remember what you have promised, and now swear to me again, taking this sacred fire as a witness, that you will renounce all other women, and keep to me only." He answered: "O queen, there is no deceit in me. I will do all that I have promised," and he repeated his former oaths. But as if not satisfied with this, I said: "I must have some other proof of your sincerity. Tell me some of your state secrets." Then he told me: "My father's brother, Prahâravarma, has been for a long time in prison; with the consent of my ministers, I intend to poison him, and give out that he has died of old age and infirmities. "I am preparing an army, to be commanded by my brother, for the invasion of Pundra without any declaration of war. "There is a merchant here possessed of a diamond of immense value. I 'am contriving a plan by which I shall get it from him at a tenth of its worth. "There is a man of wealth and influence very displeasing to me. I have engaged a certain person, named Satahali, the governor of the district, to bring a false accusation against him, and by that means to stir up the people, and so cause his death in a popular tumult, which will take away all blame or suspicion from me." When I had heard all these things, saying, "Die the death which your wicked deeds deserve," I suddenly seized him by the throat, stabbed him in a moment to the heart, and threw the body into the great fire, where it was quickly consumed; after which I went back to the queen, who was anxiously awaiting me. Though much agitated, she was more relieved at having got rid of that wretch than shocked at the manner of his death; and having quieted and consoled her without much difficulty, I went at once with her to her apartments. On seeing him, whom they believed to be the king, so changed, the women and attendants who met us were evidently much astonished, but so much had been said beforehand about the wonderful transformation to be expected, that no one seemed to doubt that I was really the king with a new body; and having said a few words of encouragement to them, I was received with great respect. The rest of the night was passed in hearing from the queen as much as possible about the court, the ministers, &c., so that I might not appear to be ignorant of what the king must have known, when I should meet them on the morrow. In the morning, after the performance of due worship of the gods, I met the ministers in council, and they also were so convinced of the power of magic that they did not hesitate to acknowledge me as their master, expressing their delight at the happy change. Then I said to them: "With this new body I have new feelings and purposes. I repent of my cruelty to my uncle, and instead of getting rid of him as I had intended, it is my pleasure that he shall be taken from prison and treated with all proper respect. "That diamond, of which I had intended to get possession, must not be obtained by fraudulent means. If I should decide on having it, I will pay the full price." To the brother who had been appointed to command the army, I said: "Dear brother, our purpose is changed with regard to that invasion. You will only watch the frontier; and if there is any beginning of war on the part of the Pundras, attack them vigorously; but not otherwise." I sent also for Satahali, and said: "You know that I wished to get rid of Anantasíra, because he was suspected of being a partisan of the deposed king. Now that I am reconciled to my uncle, there is no occasion for anything to be done to him; you will therefore take no further steps in that affair." When the ministers heard all this, and perceived me to be acquainted with secrets known only to the king and themselves, they were quite confirmed in their first impression; and while congratulating me and the queen, were loud in their praise of the power of magic. My parents were immediately liberated from prison; and having been informed by the old nurse of what had been done by me, were quite prepared when I went to them in public; and afterwards, when we met in private, were able to give way to their feelings of affection and delight at seeing me again. After a short time, with the consent of my wife, I resigned the crown, and reinstated my parents in their former position; retaining for myself the dignity of heir-apparent. Soon afterwards, a letter arrived from Sinhavarma, an old friend of my father's, congratulating him on his restoration, and asking for help against Chandavarma, who was marching to attack him. Upon which I hastily equipped an army, and marched to his assistance; and have now had the great happiness of meeting with you, as well as of helping to defeat the enemy. Râjavâhana having heard this story, smiled, and said: "Truly, our friend here has committed great sins; but how can I blame him when his motives were so good, and he had the praiseworthy object of liberating from a long imprisonment those who are so dear to him, and of punishing the usurper and oppressor? His courage and ingenuity have been great; and I congratulate him on his success." Then turning to Arthapâla, he said: "Do you relate your adventures." And he immediately began his story in the following manner:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF ARTHAPÂLA. My Lord, having the same object as your other friends, I wandered about over various countries in search of you. In the course of my travels, I arrived one day at the sacred city of Benâres. There I bathed in the pure crystal water of the river; and duly worshipped the mighty god, the slayer of Andhaka, at his temple outside the city. After finishing my devotions, I was going on my way, when I saw a tall, stout man, carrying an iron club, with his eyes red and swelled from weeping, and engaged in making a noose with his sash. I thought to myself: "This man has fallen into some great calamity. He is thinking of doing violence to himself or to others. I will see if I can assist him." I therefore went up to him, and said: "This conduct of yours seems to indicate some rash purpose. May I know the cause of your grief? Perhaps I may be able to help you." He hesitated for a moment, and looked very hard at me; but at last he said: "What harm can there be in telling you? You shall know my troubles, if you wish to learn them." Then we sat down together under a shady tree, and he began his tale as follows: "O, fortunate sir, I was once as happy as you appear to be. My father was in good circumstances, and brought me up carefully; but I preferred a wild, dissipated life, and at last became a robber. One night I broke into the house of a rich man in this city, was caught in the act, and condemned to death. "My hands were fettered by being passed through holes in a heavy piece of wood; and in this state I was led out for execution into a public square, where a furious elephant was brought forward to trample me to death. When he came near me, I shouted as loudly as possible, in order to frighten him; and lifting up my arms, gave him a violent blow on the trunk. Upon this, he turned away; and as I continued to shout out and abuse him, all the efforts of the driver to make him attack me were in vain. "Again and again, with much difficulty, the driver brought him in front of me; but each time, instead of attacking me, he turned back, alarmed by my menacing appearance and loud shouts; and at last ran right away, leaving me uninjured. "The courage which I had shown was observed by the king's chief minister, Kâmapâla, who was looking on from one of the towers of the palace; and he sent for me, and said: 'You seem to be a very strong, brave man. I did not think that elephant could have been so cowed by any one. It is a pity that such qualities should not be better employed. Are you willing, if you are pardoned, to forsake your evil ways, and lead an honest life? If you will give me a promise to this effect, I will take you into my service.' "I gladly gave the promise which he required; and he obtained my pardon, and became my protector and master; and I have served him faithfully ever since. After some years, seeing my devotion to him, he placed great confidence in me, and one day told me his own history. "'There was,' said he, 'formerly at Pushpapuri a very learned and pious man, named Dharmapâla, one of the king's ministers. His eldest son was like him; but I, the youngest, was of a very different disposition. I had no inclination for work or study; but thought only of amusement, and spent my time among gamblers and disreputable characters. My father and brother did all they could to restrain me; but, impatient of their control, I left my home and friends, and wandered about the world. One day I came to this city, Benâres, and not long after my arrival, I made acquaintance with the king's daughter, who, with her female friends, was playing at ball in a park outside the town. We fell in love with each other; and I contrived, by disguising myself as a woman, to enter her private apartments and to have many secret meetings with her; the result of which was the birth of a child. "'The devoted attendants kept the whole affair secret, removed the infant as soon as it was born, and telling the mother it was dead, gave it to a savari woman, who carried it to the public cemetery and left it there. "'As she was returning; she was stopped by the watchmen, and in her fright told them what she had done. Information was given to the king, and further inquiry being made, my offence was discovered, and one night I was arrested, while quietly sleeping unsuspicious of danger. Being condemned to death, I was led to execution outside the city. By a fortunate chance I got my hands free, and snatching the sword from the executioner, laid about me so vigorously that all the men fell back, and I made my escape to the forest. There I wandered about for some time, subsisting on wild fruits and roots, and sleeping in the trees. "'While living this precarious life, I was one day astonished at meeting a young lady, with many female attendants. She addressed me by my name, and desired me to sit down with her, under a large tree. "'When, with much surprise, I asked who she was, and how she came to be in that wild forest, with such a retinue, and why I was so favoured by her, she told me the reason of her coming, saying: My name is Târâvali. I am the daughter of a chief Yaksha. A short time ago I went to visit a friend, living on the Malaya Mountains, and while flying through the air on my return, as I passed over the cemetery of Benâres, I heard the cry of a child. "'Moved with compassion, I alighted on the ground, took it up and carried it to my father. He took it to our master, the god Kuvera, who sent for me, and asked, "What induced you to bring this child?" "A strong feeling of compassion," I answered, as if it had been my own. "'You are right,' he replied; 'there is good reason for what you have done;' and he showed me how, in a former existence, when you were Sudraka and I Aryadâsi, the child, now born of the Princess Kantimati, was ours; therefore, I am really your wife, and it was indeed a maternal instinct which prompted me to save the infant. Kuvera, however, would not allow me to keep the boy, but ordered me to take him to the Queen Vasumati, that he might be brought up together with her son, who will one day become a great monarch. "Having performed the command of the god, I am permitted by him to find you out, and relieve you from your present distress." "So saying, she embraced me, and afterwards took me to a fairy palace in the forest, furnished with all comforts and luxuries, where I passed some time with her in great happiness. "One day, when she was expressing her great love for me, I said: 'I have a strong desire to take some vengeance on the king who would have put me to death.' Upon which, with a smile, she said, 'Ah! you wish to see Kantimati; I am not jealous, I will take you to her.' "Then lifting me up, she bore me through the air to the palace, and without disturbing the guards, placed me at the bedside of the king. "Grasping a sword lying near him, I awakened him, and said: 'I am, your son-in-law; I took your daughter without your consent, and am now come to make submission and atone for my fault." "Seeing the drawn sword held over him he was much alarmed, and said: 'I must have been mad to act as I did and reject such a son-in-law; I will now acknowledge you, and you shall duly marry my daughter.' "He kept his word, the next day announced the intended marriage to all the court, and shortly afterwards publicly gave me his daughter. "Târâvali remained with me, became great friends with her fellow-wife, told her the story which she had related to me, and how her son had been preserved and was taken care of by Queen Vasumati. "Thus I have for some years lived happily, holding, as you know, a very important office." [End of the story of Kâmapâla as told to his servant.] * * * * * "Some time after this, the death of the old king occurred, and as the eldest son had died during his father's lifetime, of consumption brought on by dissipation and debauchery; my master, together with the other ministers, placed Sinhaghosha, a boy about five years old, on the throne, and had him carefully educated. "As the young king grew older, he was surrounded by companions nearer his own age, and they not liking the restraint put upon them by the wise and prudent Kâmapâla, endeavoured secretly to excite a prejudice against him, saying, 'This fellow, who sets himself up to be so wise and virtuous, is a wicked wretch, who first seduced the princess, and then, having escaped the death he so well deserved, managed to get to the bedside of the sleeping king, and to frighten him into compliance with his demands. This Kâmapâla intends to make himself king; he poisoned your eldest brother, and only spared you in order to obtain the support of the people, knowing that the real power would remain in his own hands. Depend on it you will not be suffered to live when you are old enough to shake off his authority. If you wish to be safe you should get rid of him at once.' "With these, and other similar speeches, they so prejudiced the young king against his guardian and minister, that he would gladly have got rid of him at once, but was deterred by fear of the power of his Yaksha wife. "One day the queen, seeing the Princess Kantimati very sad, asked her the reason of her sadness, saying, 'Tell me the truth; you cannot deceive me; what is the cause of this depression?' 'Did I ever deceive you?' she answered; 'my friend and fellow-wife, Târâvali, has taken offence at something done or said by our husband, and though we tried to soothe her, she went away, and has not returned; this is the cause of my distress.' "The queen hearing this, immediately told her husband, 'Kâmapâla has quarrelled with his fairy wife, and she has left him. There is nothing now to prevent your proceeding against him as you please.' "Sinhaghosha, longing to be freed from restraint, caused his minister to be arrested, when he came the next day to the palace, as usual, unsuspicious of danger. This very day he will be led round the city, be proclaimed a traitor, and have his eyes put out. "I, having lost my only friend and protector, have no wish to live, and was fastening my sash to hang myself, when you interrupted me." When Purnabhadra had finished this story, I said to him, "I am that child who was exposed in the cemetery, and saved by the fairy. My coming here is indeed opportune, and with your assistance I will engage to deliver my father. I would boldly attack the guards as they lead him round the city, but fear, lest in the confusion he might be killed, when all my exertions would have been in vain; some other plan must therefore be thought of." While I was thus speaking to him a serpent put out his head from a hole near me, and, knowing how to charm serpents, I made it come forth, and secured it. Then I said to Purnabhadra: "O friend, this is just what I wanted. I will mix with the crowd when my father is led round, let this serpent fall on him as if by chance, and then run up to him and say that I am skilled in charms, and can save his life. No doubt they will allow me to try, and I will stop the effect of the poison in such a manner that he will not die, and yet remain insensible, as if dead. Meanwhile, do you go to my mother, ask to see her in private, and tell her that the son whom she had lost is now here. Explain to her my plan for saving my father, and say that when she hears of the death of her husband, she must go to the king as if in the greatest grief, and ask for permission to burn herself together with the dead body. When this request is granted, as no doubt it will be, she must prepare the funeral pile, and make ready for self-immolation, laying the apparently dead body on a couch in a private room till I come, when I will tell her what is further to be done." Purnabhadra, delighted with the plan which I proposed, no longer wished to destroy himself. He set out at once to do as I had directed him, and I went immediately into the city. There I saw great crowds already collected, and ascertained where the executioner would stand when the proclamation was made. Overhanging the place, there happened to be a large tree, with thick foliage. Into this I climbed, and waited patiently, listening to the talk of the people collected underneath. Presently the executioner and his men came, bringing the prisoner, and the proclamation was made three times. "Know all men that this traitor, Kâmapâla, has not only poisoned the late king and his eldest son, but has been convicted of plotting against the life of his present majesty; he endeavoured to persuade two of the king's faithful attendants to administer poison, but they have given information, and his life is justly forfeited; the king, however, in consideration of his being a brahman, and nearly connected with himself, has spared his life, and only sentenced him to have his eyes put out. Let all evil-doers take warning by his punishment." While this proclamation was being read, I climbed to a branch of the tree just over my father, and dropped on him the poisonous serpent, which immediately bit him. In the confusion which ensued, I slipped down from the tree, and, having mixed with the crowd, managed, while shouting out "This is a just punishment from heaven; so may all traitors perish," to get close to my father, and quickly applied a charm in such a manner that, though he fell down apparently dead, the effect of the poison was stopped. The executioner being also bitten; and his assistants, as well as the crowd of spectators, being alarmed and dispersed from dread of the poisonous serpent; this act of mine was not noticed. Meanwhile, my mother, who had been prepared by Purnabhadra to hear of her husband's death, went immediately to the king, attended by a large number of friends, and said; "The gods know if my husband was your enemy or not; I will not now attempt to defend him; but, whether he was innocent or guilty, your anger should cease now he is dead. I pray you to allow me to burn his body, and according to the custom of widows of my rank, to ascend the funeral pile together with him. Were I not to perform this duty, disgrace would fall on you and on the whole family, as well as on myself." The king, well pleased to have got rid of the obnoxious minister, without incurring the sin of killing him, exclaimed: "This death is indeed the act of fate!" And, immediately granting her request, permitted the body of Kâmapâla to be taken to his own house, where I had by that time arrived, and was ready to receive it. Meanwhile, my mother prepared for death, and, resisting all the entreaties of her friends and servants, expressed her determination to be burnt together with her husband. When everything for the funeral was arranged, she came into the private room, where the body had been laid, and there saw her husband fully recovered, and me sitting by him. Great was her delight and astonishment at this wonderful and sudden change; and having first embraced her husband, she threw her arms round me, and, with a voice broken by sobs of joy, said: "O, my darling son, how can I deserve such happiness?--I, who so cruelly abandoned you at your birth, and suffered you to be taken away, as if dead? but your father was not to blame for that; he, indeed, deserves to have been restored to life by you, and to have the happiness of seeing you. Cruel, indeed, was Târâvali, who, when she had received you again from Kuvera, did not bring you at once to me; but what could I expect from her? It is through her unkindness in leaving us that all this misfortune has happened; but I must not complain; I was not worthy, without previous suffering, to enjoy such great happiness. Come and embrace me." Saying this, she again threw her arms round me, and kissed me repeatedly, trembling with emotion, and shedding many tears of joy. My father's feelings were scarcely less excited. He seemed to have risen from the lowest depth of misery to the summit of felicity, and esteemed himself more fortunate than even Indra the King of the Gods. When we were all somewhat calmed, and I had explained to my father all that had occurred, I said: "There is much yet to be done; the king will soon find out the deception which has been practised, and send to arrest you again; so we must consider how we can defend ourselves." My father answered: "This house is a very large one; the walls are strong; there are many secret passages; I have a great store of weapons; my servants are brave and faithful, so that we could hold out for several days. Besides this I have many friends in the city; most of the authorities will favour me; many of the soldiers will be on my side, and there are many persons discontented and ready to rebel against the king. Therefore, if we act prudently, we shall have much assistance, and be able to cut off that tyrant." With this I entirely agreed, and we prepared for defence. As I had expected, the king, finding how he had been deceived, sent soldiers to take us; but, though they made many attempts, we drove them back day after day, with very small loss to ourselves. Meanwhile, fearing lest we should at last be overpowered, if something more were not done, I determined, if possible, to seize the person of the king; and, as my father's house was not far from the palace, I began to make an underground passage inside, in order to reach his sleeping-room, the exact position of which I had learnt from my father. After digging for some distance, I came, to my great astonishment, into a large, lofty, well-lighted room, occupied by a number of women, among whom was a young lady of surpassing beauty, resembling the wife of Kâma, or the tutelary goddess of the city, who had hidden herself here to avoid the sight of so much wickedness above. The women were equally astonished at seeing me, and ran away, alarmed, into other adjoining rooms. One old woman, however, remained behind, and, falling at my feet, said "Have pity on us poor helpless women; surely thou art a god, for no mortal could have thus found his way hither. O tell us why thou art come." "Calm yourself," I answered, "You have nothing to fear from me. I am Arthapâla, the son of the minister Kâmapâla and the Princess Kantimati, and have come thus unexpectedly on you while making an underground passage from my father's house to the palace; but tell me who you all are, and how you come to be living here." "O prince," she answered, "I had heard of your birth, but not of your preservation, and happy am I now to see you. Know that the young lady whom you have just seen is the granddaughter of your maternal grandfather, Chandasinha. The eldest son of that king died before his father, leaving his wife pregnant, and she lost her life in giving birth to this daughter, who was committed to my care. One day the king sent for me, and said: 'I intend this child when grown up to be given in marriage to Darpasâra, son of the King of Mâlwa; and, remembering the misconduct of her aunt, I am determined that nothing of the kind shall happen with her. I have therefore caused a spacious palace to be made underground, and have furnished it with provisions and all other necessaries for even a hundred years. I have great confidence in you; you will therefore go down into this subterranean dwelling, taking with you the princess and such attendants as you may think desirable, and will remain there until she is grown up, when I shall fetch you from below, and give her in marriage as I have intended.' So saying, he lifted up a small trap-door in the court-yard close to his own apartment, and showed me the steps leading to this place. The next day we all came down, and have remained here ever since. Twelve years have now passed, and the king seems to have forgotten us. I must tell you also that the princess, though destined by her grandfather for Darpasâra, was originally intended for you; for her mother, while the child was as yet unborn, promised that her daughter should become the wife of the son of Kantimati if he should ever return. Look on her, therefore, as your intended, and do what is best for us." Having received this account from the old woman, I told her to have no fear on the princess's account, but to trust entirely in me, and that I would soon liberate them from their long and tedious imprisonment. She then took a lamp and showed me the steps leading to the trap-door, which I forced open, and soon found my way into the king's bed-room. There, before he was sufficiently awake to call for help, I seized, gagged, and bound him, and dragging him along, as an ichneumon drags a serpent, past the astonished women and through the tunnel which I had made, I brought him, trembling with fear and bowed down by shame, to my father's house, and showed him to my parents, telling them how I had captured him, and how I had discovered the princess in the subterranean palace. When the seizure of the king was known, those who were previously well-disposed to my father immediately joined us, and all opposition ceased. Soon afterwards I married the princess, who looked on me as her deliverer from the dungeon; Sinhaghosha was deposed; and I, having double claim to the throne, was acknowledged king in his stead. Hearing that the King of Anga, a devoted friend of your father, was at war, and attacked by a strong enemy, we have marched hither with an army to his assistance, and I have had the pleasure of helping to deliver him from his enemies, and the still greater happiness of meeting with you. I now beg of you to decide what shall be done with the deposed king, our prisoner, whom we have brought with us. My mother is very anxious to liberate him, but hitherto it has not been thought safe to do so. The prince answered: "Let that unworthy young man be freed, on condition of giving up all claim to the throne and leading a private life; and let him devote himself to pious meditation, which is the purifier of evil deeds." Then turning with a kind look to Pramati, he said: "Do you now relate your adventures," with which request he at once complied:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF PRAMATI. My lord, while wandering like the rest of your friends in search of you, I found myself one evening in a large forest, far from any habitation. Thinking it useless to attempt to go further in an unknown country and in darkness, I prepared to sleep there. Having bathed in the water of a small lake, and made myself a bed of leaves, I lay down under a large tree, commending myself to the deities presiding over the place, and was very soon asleep. Presently a strange and delightful feeling came over me, gladdening my inmost soul; and I awoke, hardly knowing whether what I saw was a reality or a dream, for on looking round me I saw that I was no longer in the forest, but in a very large and lofty room, lying on a soft couch with white muslin curtains; all around me were a number of sleeping women. Among them my eyes were especially attracted towards a young lady of exceeding beauty, lying in a very graceful attitude, covered only by a silken petticoat, her bosom slowly rising and falling, and her bud-like lower lip quivering with the soft movement of the breath in quiet sleep. Lost in astonishment, I said to myself; "What has become of that great forest wrapt in darkness? How is my bed of leaves exchanged for this soft couch? Whence is this dome above me, lofty as the great temple of Siva? Who are all these lovely women, like a troop of Apsaras lying down wearied with play? And who can this beautiful lady be? She cannot be a goddess, for the gods do not sleep thus, nor do they perspire, and I see the drops breaking forth on her forehead. She must then be a mortal; but O how lovely! how peacefully she sleeps, as if she had never known the anxieties of love! My heart is drawn towards her." With these thoughts I rose up and approached the bed where she lay, and stood looking at her as if entranced, becoming every moment more enamoured, longing to touch her, but held back by the fear of disturbing her. While I was thus gazing, she gradually awoke, and raising herself into a sitting posture, looked at me attentively with eyes more than half closed. At first her lips were opened, as if she were about to cry out; but, apparently restrained by some secret power, she remained silent, trembling all over, and showing in her countenance the signs of mingled doubt, fear, astonishment, bashfulness, and love; till at last, overcome again by sleep, she slowly sank down again on the bed. Almost at the same time I felt myself irresistibly overcome by drowsiness, and was very soon fast asleep. When I awoke, I found myself on the bed of leaves once more, alone in the gloomy forest, and day was beginning to appear. When I was quite awake I had some difficulty in collecting my thoughts, and I said to myself: "Can all this of which I have such a vivid impression be other than a reality, or was it only a dream, a magical delusion? Whatever it may be, I will not quit this place till I find out the truth, and I will place myself under the protection of the deity who sent the vision." Having formed this resolution, I was waiting where I had slept, when I saw approaching me a female form faded like a flower scorched by the sun, with eyes red from weeping, lips parched by the hot breath of sighs, wearing a scanty black dress, without ornaments, and with her hair in a single braid, like an affectionate wife mourning for the absence of her husband;[6] and with all this having an air of divine dignity, which made me regard her with reverence, and think that she might be the tutelary goddess of the place, to whom I had commended myself; and I prostrated myself before her. But she raised me up with her arms, and after kissing me again and again, said, with a voice broken by tears and sobs, "O, my darling, surely you have heard from the Queen Vasumati how one night a fairy appeared to her, and placing the child Arthapâla[7] in her arms, told her husband's name and her own; and how the child was brought by order of Kuvera; and then disappeared. I am that fairy--your mother. Bewildered by unreasonable jealousy and anger, I abandoned my husband, your father, Kâmapâla; and for that sin I was cursed by Durgâ, who condemned me to be possessed by an evil spirit for a year. That year, which seemed to me like a thousand years, is ended; and I am now come from the great festival of Siva, where I have met my relations, who had assembled there, and have received full pardon from the goddess. "In my way thither, I passed by this place, saw you about to lie down, and heard your prayer to the local deity. "Being still partly under the influence of the curse, I did not recognise you as my son. Yet even as a stranger I felt an interest in you, and could not bear the thought of leaving you exposed to danger in such a wild place. I therefore waited till you were fast asleep; and having considered where I could deposit you while I was gone to meet the goddess, since I could not take you with me, it occurred to me to carry you to the palace of the King of Sravasti, and leave you to sleep there till my return. I therefore carried you through the air, and placed you in the sleeping apartment of the Princess Navamâlika, feeling sure that no one would disturb you there. I then went to the temple; and after paying due worship to Siva, and receiving the congratulations of my assembled friends, I was dismissed by the goddess, who said: 'You are forgiven; the curse is ended; go and be happy with your husband.' After which I returned to the palace; and taking you up, brought you to this place, and laid you, still sleeping, on your bed of leaves. Since then, I have been watching for your awaking; for as soon as the curse was removed, I knew you to be my son. "I must now leave you, and go to your father. I know what passed in the palace; how you have fallen in love with the princess, and her feelings towards you. Do not despond; before long you will see her again." She then warmly embraced me; and saying: "I go with reluctance, farewell for the present," she departed. Having thus found the supposed dream to be a reality, and that the lady whom I had seen was the Princess Navamâlika, I was confirmed in my love, and set out for Sravasti, determined, if possible, to see her again. On the road, I came to a village where there was a large fair and a great concourse of traders. Various amusements were going on; among others, a cock-fight, which I stopped to look at, and sat down near an old brahman, who was watching the fight with great interest. On seeing me smile, he asked the reason; and I answered: "What simpletons some of the breeders here must be to pit a Balâka cock against one of the Nârikela breed, which is sure to win." With a knowing look, he whispered to me: "Hush! these blockheads know no better. I see you are a sharp fellow; sit quiet and say nothing." Then he offered me betel and pawn from his box; and we got into conversation. Meanwhile, the birds fought furiously; and there was much vociferation on both sides; but, as I had predicted, the Balâka cock was beaten. The old man was delighted at the victory of the other, which was his own. He seemed to have taken a great liking to me, though our ages were so different, and invited me to his house, where I was very hospitably treated, and passed the night. The next morning he accompanied me some distance on the way to Sravasti; and said, at parting: "Remember, I am your friend; do not hesitate to apply to me if there is anything in which I can help you." After he had left me, I continued my journey; and arriving late and very tired at Sravasti, I lay down to sleep in an arbour in one part of the park outside the city. There I slept soundly till awakened by the noise of the swans and other birds in a lake not far off. Soon after I had risen, I heard the tinkling of anklets, and saw a young lady walking towards me, with a painted canvas in her hand. When she came near, she looked first at me, and then at the painting. This she did several times, and was evidently surprised and pleased at the comparison On casting an eye on the picture, I also was much surprised, finding it to be a portrait of myself. Feeling sure that the likeness could not be accidental, and that there must be some reason for her making the comparison and seeming so pleased at the result, I would not at first make any inquiry of her, but merely said: "This is a public place; we need not stand on ceremony; pray sit down with me." This she did; and we got into conversation about the news of the town. At last she said to me: "You seem to be quite a stranger here, and look as if you were travel-tired. Will you be offended if I ask you to come and rest at my house?" "Offended!" I answered. "You do me a very great favour; I shall be most delighted to accept your invitation." Upon this, she rose, and I followed her to her house, where I was most kindly entertained. When I was refreshed with bathing and food, she said to me: "You have been travelling about in various countries. Have you, in your travels, met with any very extraordinary adventure?" On hearing this question, I thought: "I have now good ground for hope. The picture represents that very room which I saw, with its lofty ceiling and white canopies--even the bed where the princess was lying. Instigated by love, she has doubtless painted my portrait from recollection; and, in the hope that I may be discovered through the likeness, has entrusted it to this lady who has now invited me to her house. She evidently thinks that I am the person; but hesitates to put a direct question to me. If I am right, I will soon remove her doubt." I asked her, therefore: "Will you allow me to examine that picture?" She put it into my hand; and I drew on it the princess lying as I had seen her; and giving it back, said: "One night, while sleeping in a forest, I had a very wonderful dream. I found myself lying in just such a room as that which is represented in this painting; and saw there a very beautiful young lady, such as I have painted here; could that have been anything more than a dream?" When she heard this, her face lighted up, and she answered: "That was no dream, but a reality; and you are indeed the person I was looking for." Then she told me the whole story; how the princess had seen and fallen in love with me; and how she had painted that picture and given it to her friend, that it might be the means of discovering me; and how delighted she would now be to hear that I was found at last. I begged her to assure the princess that I was even more anxious to see her, and had come to Sravasti solely from the hope of finding her. "If your friend is disposed to favour me," I continued, "beg her to wait patiently a few days; I will arrange a plan which will enable us to be together in her apartments, without danger to either of us." To this she agreed, and having taken leave of her, I went back to the village where the old brahman lived, whom I had met at the cock-fight. I found him at home, and delighted to see me. After I was rested and refreshed, he asked me, "What has brought you back so soon? is there anything in which you require my assistance?" "There is,"' I answered, "a very important affair, in which you can materially assist me. The King of the Sravastans, Dharmavardhana,[8] whose character corresponds with his name, has a very beautiful daughter. By an extraordinary chance, I have seen and fallen in love with her. I have reason to believe that she was equally struck by me, but know not how to contrive a meeting between us without your help; will you therefore assist me?" "What is your plan?" he asked, "and how can I be of service in carrying it out?" "My plan is this," I replied. "I will dress as a woman, and pass for your daughter; and you are so clever and ready-witted, that I think you will be able to get me into the palace as a companion to the princess, and even to manage so that she shall become my wife." Then I told him how I thought this might be accomplished; and he quite approved of what I proposed, entered into it with great spirit, and promised his ready co-operation. Accordingly, the first day that the king was sitting in public to administer justice, the old man approached, followed by me dressed as a woman, walking modestly behind him, and bowing down to the king, he said: "My lord, I have heard of your great beneficence, and how you are the father of all your subjects, the protector and friend of the helpless; I am therefore come to ask a great favour. This girl is my only daughter. Her mother died soon after her birth. I have brought her up, and she has never left me; but I am desirous now to be relieved of this charge and to see her well married. A long time ago, she was engaged to a young brahman, who went to Oujein, to study there, and acquire the means of supporting a wife and family. I have been expecting his return for some time, but have heard nothing of him; I am, therefore, very uneasy on my daughter's account, and purpose to go to Oujein, and find out whether he is alive or dead. I cannot leave my daughter alone, and have no friend or near relation with whom I can place her. Will your majesty deign to allow her to remain under your protection until my return?" To this the king graciously assented, and I was received into the palace, where I soon found means of letting the princess know of my disguise, and was taken into her apartments as one of her immediate attendants. Thus our wishes were gratified, and we enjoyed uninterrupted intercourse with each other. But more was yet to be done, and when the time was nearly arrived at which it had been arranged between me and the old brahman that he was to come to fetch me, I said to my darling: "To-morrow, as you know, there will be a procession to a certain holy place near the river; you and your attendants will join in it and have an opportunity of bathing there. While we are in the water, I will scream out, as if drowning, and, diving underneath the surface, will come up among the bushes a long way off, without being seen. Do you appear greatly distressed at my death; but fear nothing, I shall soon come to you again." Accordingly, the next day, while bathing in the Ganges, I made it appear as if I were accidentally carried out of my depth and drawn in by one of the eddies of the river, and screamed out loudly for help. My cries and screams and subsequent disappearance caused a great commotion, and long search was made for my body; but of course in vain, for I had dived under, and come to the surface unobserved among the thick bushes at the place which had been agreed upon. There, having gone on shore, I soon found the old brahman, who was waiting for me with a suit of men's clothes, and, putting them on, I walked quietly with him into the town. The next day, as if he had heard nothing of the loss of his pretended daughter, he went to the king, accompanied by me, and said "My lord, I have returned from Oujein, and have brought with me this young man, the intended husband of my daughter, with whom I am much pleased, and whom I can confidently recommend to your favour, for I have heard an exceedingly good report of him there. He is not only very learned in the vedas and commentaries, advanced in science and arts, well instructed in politics and history, clever in reciting stories and poetry, but is a bold and skilful rider, a good archer and swordsman. There is scarcely anything that a young man should know, with which he is not familiar; and, with all this, he is free from conceit, good-tempered, gentle, and kind; in short, he seems to me almost perfect, and more fit to marry a princess than the daughter of such a man as I am. When I have seen my child happily married to him, I shall not trouble them with my society, but withdraw from the world, and end my days in a hermitage. I have now come to take back my daughter, with the most humble and heartfelt gratitude for the gracious protection which you have so kindly afforded her." With these words he bowed himself to the ground in humble obeisance. On hearing this the king was greatly perplexed, and obliged to admit that the girl had been drowned while bathing, and that her body had not been found. Then the old man began to tear his hair, beat his breast, and show signs of the most extravagant grief, calling on the king to restore his dear daughter, and reproaching him with having caused her death. In vain did the king make him large offers of compensation; he refused them all, declaring it to be his firm intention to put himself to death at the gate of the palace, and so cause the sin to fall on the king's head.[9] He, despairing of finding any other way of appeasing the old man, after some consideration and consultation with his ministers, said to him: "You have told me that your intended son-in-law is a young man of rare abilities, and more fit to be the husband of a princess than of your daughter, and his appearance is very prepossessing; I offer him then my daughter in the place of yours. Will this satisfy you?" Then at last the old man professed to be contented; I was treated with much honour, in due time became the husband of the princess, and reached the summit of my wishes. After a time, an army was sent by my father-in-law to the assistance of the King of Anga, and, thinking of the possibility of meeting you here, I solicited and obtained the command of it, and my hopes have been fulfilled, since I have now the great pleasure of seeing you. Having heard this story, the prince remarked: "You have done no deeds of blood, but have gained your ends by gentleness and ingenuity. This is the way approved of by the wise." Then turning to Mitragupta, he said "It is now your turn," and he immediately began his story thus:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF MITRAGUPTA. My lord, I set out on my travels in search of you, like the rest, and arriving one day at Damalipta, I saw a great crowd collected in a large park outside the city. While looking about me to find some one of whom I might inquire what this festival was, I espied a young man, sitting alone in an arbour, amusing himself with playing on a lute. Going up to him, I asked "What is this concourse of people? Why do you sit here alone, away from the others?" He answered: "A long time ago, the king of this country, having no children, made many prayers and offerings to the goddess Durgâ, in the hope of propitiating her. At last she appeared to him in a dream, and said: 'Your prayer is granted; your wife shall bear twins--a daughter who must be your successor, and a son who must be subject to her and to her husband when she marries. Further, it is my will and pleasure that, beginning from her seventh year, you shall make, every month when the moon is in the constellation Krittika (or the Pleiades), a great festival, to be called the Festival of the Ball Dance, at which she shall publicly exhibit her skill before the people. I also will, that in reference to a husband, she shall have free choice without any pressure on your part, and that he whom she marries shall have equal power with her, and reign after your death.' "The promise given in the dream was fulfilled. The queen bore twins--a son and a daughter. The king has duly obeyed the commands of the goddess, and to-day the princess, whose name is Kandukavati, will again perform the ball dance for the propitiation of Durgâ in the sight of the people here assembled. "You asked me also why I am sitting here alone. I will tell you. The Princess Kandukavati has a dear friend and foster-sister, who is engaged to me. "Of late, Bhimadhanwa, the brother of the princess, has cast his eyes on her, and persecuted her with his importunities. Knowing his character, I have great fear lest some day he should use violence towards her. This is why I am so anxious and uneasy, and have no inclination to join in the festivities." Just then I heard the tinkling of anklets, and a young lady came to the place where we were sitting. On seeing her, my companion started up with great delight, and, taking her by the hand, introduced her to me, saying: "This is the lady whom I have told you of, dearer to me than life, the thought of separation from whom, through the wickedness of that wretch, burns me like fire, and causes me to suffer misery greater than death. I have no loyalty or respect towards him, and will lose my life rather than suffer him to accomplish his wicked purpose." But she, with tears in her eyes, said: "O my beloved, do not on my account engage in any act of violence; whatever might be the result, your own life would, certainly be forfeited. You have continually professed your great love for me; be guided now by my advice. I am ready to follow you wherever you go; let us then fly from this country, and go where we shall be safe from my persecutor." My new acquaintance then turned to me, and said: "You seem to have been a great traveller; tell us in what country we may be most in safety and best able to live." I smiled at this, and answered: "The world is wide, and there are plenty of countries pleasant to live in; but, after all, one's own country is the best; why should you banish yourselves? I think I can contrive some means by which you will be enabled to remain here in safety and comfort. Wait then a while, and if I cannot do this I will tell you where it will be best for you to go." Before we had time to say more, the young girl started up, saying: "I dare not stay a moment longer. I have stopped away from my mistress to see you, and now I hear her coming, and must join her directly. Any one may see the princess at this festival; I hope you will have a good view of her." Saying this to me, she ran off, and we both followed her to the place where the princess was to perform--an open stage which had been erected in the park. Presently she made her appearance, followed by a train of female attendants, and the moment I saw her my heart was drawn towards her. I almost doubted whether she were a goddess or a mortal; but when she began to play, I was even more captivated by her graceful movements than I had been by her beauty. First she made a low obeisance in honour of the goddess; then taking up the bright red ball with her slender fingers, she let it drop as if accidentally, and striking it as it rebounded, caught it on the back of her hand and sent it high into the air; then she made it rise and fall, at first slowly, then faster, and then very rapidly, keeping time to it by graceful movements of the feet. Sometimes it seemed to stand still, sometimes to fly up like a bird; at one time she would strike it alternately with her right hand and left hand; at another send it high into the air, dancing meanwhile to her own singing; then the ball would go quite away, and come back as if of itself. Thus she went on a long time amidst the applause of the surrounding spectators, performing various graceful movements, striking the ball with feet as well as hands, and even making it whirl round and round her so rapidly that she seemed to be enclosed in a fiery red cage; now with one hand holding up her dress or replacing her hair which had fallen down, and keeping the ball in motion with the other; now taking several balls and keeping them all in the air at once. At last the performance was ended; and, after again making a low obeisance in honour of the goddess, she walked slowly round the stage, leaning on the arm of her foster-sister Chandrasena, and followed by her maidens, casting several significant glances at me, and especially giving me one long lingering look as she withdrew. My new friend, Kosadâsa, who had stood near me all the time, invited me to his house, where I was most hospitably entertained. In the evening, Chandrasena, the lady to whom he had introduced me, came to see him. I said to her: "I promised to find some means of freeing you from the importunities of the prince; this is what I have thought of. I have a magic ointment, a small quantity of which applied to your face will make you look like a monkey in the eyes of all who see you. Your persecutor will certainly then be disgusted, and give you no more annoyance." "Truly I am exceedingly obliged to you," she answered, "for such a charming proposal. But whatever I may be in a future birth, I have no inclination to be turned into a monkey now. If you have nothing better than this to propose, we shall not esteem your wisdom very highly. Happily, I have thought of something much better. You have heard that, according to the word of Durgâ, the princess is to be allowed free choice of a husband. You are greatly in love with her, and she is favourably disposed towards you, from your appearance. My mother, of whom she is very fond, will do everything in her power to promote your interests; and no doubt she will choose you. The king and queen will of course give their consent; and the marriage once completed, there will be no further danger, since Bhimadhanwa will be subject to you, and you will be able easily to protect me. Wait, therefore, a few days, and I and my mother will do our best on your behalf. But I must not stay longer; my mistress will be waiting for me." After she was gone, Kosadâsa and I got into conversation about that which so greatly concerned us both; and so much interested were we, that we never thought of going to bed, but sat up talking all the night. In the morning, I went to the park, and stood for some time near the stage on which I had seen the princess; and in imagination saw her there again, in some of those graceful attitudes which she had displayed. While I was thus deep in thought, I was accosted by Bhimadhanwa, who introduced himself to me, appeared very friendly, sat down with me, and, after some conversation, invited me to his house. Having no suspicion of treachery, I accompanied him to the palace, where I was most hospitably entertained. After dinner, not having slept the night before, I lay down, and was soon fast asleep, and dreaming of my beloved princess. Presently, I was suddenly awakened, and found my arms bound with an iron chain, and Bhimadhanwa, with angry countenance, standing near me. "Vile wretch!" he said. "You fancied you could plot in safety; and little thought that all which that girl said was overheard, and brought to me by one of my spies, who heard it through the open window. My silly sister, forsooth, is in love with you! You are to marry her, and make me your subject; and you will order me to give up Chandrasena, that she may marry her lover! You are much mistaken. I am not so easily managed as that. We shall soon see how all your fine projects will end." Then calling two strong men, his servants, at his command they lifted me up, carried me down to the sea, and threw me in as I was. Notwithstanding the chain which confined my arms, I managed to keep afloat, till by a lucky chance I fell in with a piece of wood, and by throwing myself across it, managed to hold on, and was carried out to sea. After floating all night, in the morning I was seen from a ship sailing that way, and taken on board. The captain, however, who was a foreigner, had not much compassion on me; and only thought, as I was young and strong, how much he could get by selling me as a slave; and did not even release my hands. I had not been long on board, however, when the ship was attacked by pirates, who surrounded it with their boats, and poured in a shower of arrows and other missiles. Seeing that the crew of the merchant-ship were being defeated, I called out to the captain: "Take off my chain; set me free; and I will soon drive away the enemy." He did as I asked; and furnished me with a good bow and arrows, which I used so effectually, that a large number of the enemy were killed or wounded; and the boats began to draw off. Meanwhile, our ship had drifted close to the pirates' galley. I leapt on board, and most of the crew being disabled, took prisoner the captain, who turned out to be Bhimadhanwa, the very man who had so treacherously ill-used me. He was utterly astonished at seeing, me; and hung down his head ashamed, unable to answer a word, when I said to him: "Where are all your threats and boastings? You are now as completely in my power as I was in yours." Then the sailors, shouting for joy at the victory, bound him with the chain with which I had been confined; and after taking possession of the pirate ship, we continued the voyage; but being driven out of our course by a contrary wind, landed on an uninhabited island, to get water and wild fruits, and attend to the wounded. The merchant-captain and crew, delighted at my bravery, and the timely assistance I had rendered them, treated me with the greatest respect. While they were engaged, I walked about to explore the island; and came to a large quantity of stones which had fallen from a high rock. These I crossed over, and going round to the other side, found a gentle slope, covered with trees and flowers. Walking slowly among them, admiring the beautiful scenery and enjoying the cool shade, I arrived, almost imperceptibly and without fatigue, at the summit, where I found a small lake, surrounded with ruby-coloured, variegated rocks, and partly covered with bright lotuses. In this I bathed, and pulled up some of the lotus-plants, the young shoots of which were unusually sweet and good. As I came out of the water, carrying a large root on my shoulder, I saw standing on the bank a terrible Rakshas in human form, who called out, in an angry tone "Who are you? Where do you come from? What are you doing here, destroying my flowers?" Without showing any sign of fear, I walked boldly up to him, and said: "I am a brahman, who has just escaped many dangers. I was treacherously thrown into the sea, rescued by a merchant-ship, then attacked by pirates; and now, after conquering them, we have put into this island for water. I have much enjoyed my bathe, and wish you good morning." "Stop!" said he. "You will not get off so easily. You seem a bold fellow, however, and I will give you a chance for life. I shall ask you four questions. If you can answer them, you are free; if not, I shall devour you immediately." "Very good," I answered; "I am ready to hear them." Then he began: "What is cruel?" "A wicked woman's heart." "What is most to the advantage of a householder?" "Good qualities in a wife." "What is love?" "Imagination." "What best accomplishes difficult things?" "Cunning. Dhumini, Gomini, Ratnavati, and Nitambavati," I added, "are examples of what I have said." "Tell me," said he, "who they were, and how they prove the truth of your answers?" "Certainly," I replied; "you shall judge for yourself. "There were formerly in the country of Trigarta three brothers, all wealthy, having several wives, many servants and slaves, and numerous flocks and herds. In their time it happened that there was a great drought; no rain fell for several years; the streams and fountains ceased to flow; the pools and lakes were turned to mud, the beds of rivers almost dry, plants burned up, trees withered; all mirth and festivity were at an end; bands of thieves roamed about; the dead lay unburied or unburnt, and their bodies were scattered over the fields. At last the famine was so great that men began to devour each other. The three brothers, from their great wealth, were able to hold out a long time; but when their stores of corn and rice were all consumed, and their cattle all slaughtered, they, like the rest, were driven to cannibalism. First they killed and ate their slaves; then, even their wives and children, till all were gone but themselves and their three favourite wives. The famine still continuing, they were driven to eat them also, and drew lots which should be killed first. The lot fell on Dhumini, the wife of the youngest brother, who, unable to bear the thought of devouring her, escaped with her in the night. After walking a long way, till they were quite exhausted, they came to a large forest, where they found a well of water, and many fruits and roots, besides deer and other animals, on which they were able to live without difficulty; and they built a hut there. "One day when the husband of Dhumini was going about in search of game, he found a man who had been cruelly treated by robbers; they had cut off his hands, feet, and nose, and left him to perish. Having compassion on the poor wretch, he bound up his wounds as well as he was able, and carried him with much difficulty to his hut. There he and his wife nursed him till his wounds were healed, and took care of him afterwards. "Now such is the depravity of women, that Dhumini fell in love with this poor mutilated wretch, and determined to have him whether he would or no. "One day her husband came home from hunting, tired and thirsty, and asked her for water. She answered: 'I have a very bad headache, you must go and draw for yourself.' Then walking softly behind him as he went, she waited till he stooped down over the well, and pushed him in. "Having thus, as she thought, got rid of her husband, she took the maimed man on her back and carried him till she reached an inhabited country, where there was no famine, telling those who asked her, that this man was her husband, and had been mutilated in that manner by a spiteful enemy. "She thus became the object of much compassion, and praise, for devotion to her husband, and the king of the country bestowed on her a small pension on which she lived in the city of Avanti. Meanwhile her real husband had managed to climb up from the well, and wandered about a long time, not knowing where his wife was gone. At last he came to Avanti in great distress, and was begging for food when she chanced to see him. Going at once to the king, she said, 'That wicked wretch who mutilated my husband is now here; I have seen him going about as a beggar.' "Upon this he was immediately seized, and, notwithstanding his protestations of innocence, condemned to death, and led away to execution. "On the way, with but faint hopes of saving his life, he said to the executioner, 'I have been condemned on the evidence of one witness only; let that man whom I am accused of injuring be questioned; if he says I am guilty, then indeed I deserve to die.' "The executioner saying, 'Perhaps he may be innocent--a few minutes' delay can do no harm,' took him at once to the house of his wife, and there the poor mutilated wretch, with many tears, declared the kindness with which he had been treated by the supposed criminal, and the wickedness of the woman who had forced him to live with her as her husband. "Thereupon the execution was stayed, and the king, having been made acquainted with the whole affair, ordered her to be cut in pieces and given to the dogs, and showed much favour and kindness to her husband. "I say, therefore, there is nothing so cruel as the heart of a wicked woman." The Rakshas appeared to be satisfied with this story, and said: "Go on, tell me about Gomini." I continued therefore: "There was formerly in the country of the Dravidas a young brahman of great wealth. Somehow he was not married when a mere boy, as is often the case, and when he grew up he thought to himself: 'Those who have no wives and those who have bad wives are equally unfortunate, I will not let my friends choose for me, but travel about and look out for myself till I find a girl who may suit me.' "Having formed this resolution, and changed his name, he set out alone, taking very little with him, but a small bag containing two or three pounds of rice in the husk. "Whenever he saw a maiden of his own caste whose appearance he liked, either in the houses where he was admitted or elsewhere, he would say to her: 'My dear, could you make me a good dinner with this rice?' This he did many times, but though parents in general would have been willing to give him their daughters, he was always laughed at, and often treated with contempt. One day, while sitting in a public place in a town which he had lately entered, he observed a young girl whose parents had fallen into poverty, which was shown by her scanty dress and slender ornaments. She passed by him accompanied by an old woman, and stood for a time very near him. "The more he looked at her the more he was pleased, and thought to himself: 'This is just the wife to suit me; she is neither too tall nor too short, too stout or too thin; her limbs are rounded and well knit; her back is straight, with a slight hollow; her shoulders are low; her arms plump and soft; the lines of her hands indicate good fortune; her fingers are long and slender; her nails are like polished gems; her neck is smooth and rounded as a slender shell; her bosom full and well shaped; her face has a sweet expression; her lips are full and red; her chin small and compact; her cheeks plump; her eyebrows glossy black, gracefully curved, meeting in the middle; her eyes are long and languishing, very black and very white; her forehead, adorned by beautiful curls, resembles a piece of the moon; her ears are delicately formed, and well set off by the ear-rings; her hair is glossy black, brown at the ends--long, thick, and not too much curled. My heart seems to be drawn towards her; if she is what she seems to be, I will certainly marry her; but I must not act rashly; I will first try her with my test. Then approaching her with a polite salutation, he said: 'My dear, are you clever enough to make a good dinner out of this bag of rice;' Without answering a word, she looked significantly at her old nurse, and taking the rice from his hand, signed him to sit down on a terrace close by; and sat down herself near him. Then, first spreading out the rice in the, sun that it might be quite dry, she rubbed it gently between her hands, so as to get off the husk unbroken, and giving it to the nurse, she said: 'Take this to some goldsmith; they use it when prepared in this way for polishing their gold, and you will get a few pence for it--with them buy a little firewood, a few cheap dishes, and an earthen pipkin, and bring also a wooden mortar with a long pestle.' On this errand the old woman departed, and soon returned, bringing the things required. "Then the girl put the rice into the mortar, and very gracefully moving the pestle up and down, separated the rice thoroughly from the remaining particles of husk and awns; which she carefully winnowed away. "After this she washed the rice thoroughly, and the old woman having meanwhile lighted a fire and placed the pipkin full of water on it, she threw the rice into the water as soon as it boiled, in such a manner that the grains lay loose and separate. When they began to swell and burst, she took the pot from the fire, which she raked together, and set it with the lid downwards near the embers, first carefully draining off the rice liquor, and stirring the grains several times with a spoon to prevent their sticking together. "After this she put out the fire by throwing water on it, and taking the charcoal, sent the old woman to sell it, and with the money to procure some herbs, ghee, curds, tamarind fruit, spices, salt, myrobalan, and sesamum oil. When these things were brought, she mixed the myrobalan, finely pounded, with salt, and desired the nurse to give it with the sesamum oil to the young brahman, and tell him to go and bathe and anoint himself; and he having received these things, went to bathe. "When he was returned and comfortably seated, she gave him to drink rice liquor, mixed with spices and cooled by fanning, and he was much refreshed by it; afterwards, soup made with some of the liquor, a few spoonfuls of rice, butter, and spices; and, lastly, the rest of the rice mixed with curds, buttermilk, and several condiments, and he had plenty, though some was left. "When he had finished, he asked for drink. She gave him water in a new cooler, sweetened and perfumed with lotus and other flowers; and it looked and felt so cool, gurgled so pleasantly, and tasted so sweet, that all his senses were gratified, and he drank eagerly again and again. "After waiting on him in this manner, as soon as the dishes and the remains of the meal had been removed by the old nurse, she sat down beside him, arranging her scanty patched dress as well as she was able. "The young brahman having thus satisfied himself of the capabilities of the maiden, made known his real name and position to her parents, and they having gladly accepted him, he married the girl in due form, and took her home to his own house. "Not very long afterwards, with very little consideration for her, he took to himself another wife, a woman of bad character; yet such was the sweetness of temper of the first, that she showed no anger at this, but continued to treat her husband with all due honour and respect, and so gained over her fellow-wife that she became her dearest friend. At the same time she managed the household admirably, keeping everything in order, yet making all the servants attached to her. In short, she acted in such a manner that she entirely gained the respect and affection of her husband, and he enjoyed great happiness, and trusted and consulted her in all affairs. "Therefore I say that the best thing for a householder is to have a good wife." Then, in illustration of the third answer, I related the story of Ratnavati. "There was, in a town in the country of Surat, a rich ship-captain who had a daughter named Ratnavati. She was married to Balabhadra, the son of a merchant living in another town. For some reason he took a sudden dislike to his bride on the very day of the wedding, and though she continued to live in his house, avoided her as much as possible, and would never speak to her, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his friends. The rest of the family and the servants, seeing this, treated her with neglect and contempt, so that she led a most wretched life. "One day, wandering about disconsolate, she met with an old woman, a buddhist mendicant, who, seeing her weeping and looking miserable, asked her the reason. She, thinking that this woman might possibly be possessed of some charm capable of bringing back her husband's affections, half unwillingly told her the cause of her grief. "'On the very day of our marriage my husband, from some cause or other, took a sudden dislike to me, and since then he has treated me with neglect and contempt, so that I hardly ever see his face, and then only by chance for a moment, for he avoids me as much as possible; his family also, following his example, behave to me with great unkindness. I have no comfort or happiness, and only wish for death. But you must not tell this to any one; I would not on any account have my misfortune talked about.' "The old woman answered: 'Surely this must be a punishment for some great sin committed in a former existence, or such a charming person as yourself would never be thus treated by your husband. I recommend. you to practise penance and prayer; perhaps the gods may be appeased, and a favourable change produced. Meanwhile, if there is any way in which I can help you, I will gladly do so. You seem very intelligent; cannot you think of some stratagem which may have the desired effect?' "After reflecting for some time, she said Though my husband so neglects me, I know that he is very fond of women in general, and ready to be captivated by any one, especially respectable woman who will give him a little encouragement. Acting on this propensity, I think, with your help, that something may be done. There is a young lady, a neighbour, the daughter of a very rich man, in great favour with the Rajah; she is a friend of mine, and is very like me. As my husband hardly knows her by sight, and scarcely ever sees me, it might be possible to pass myself off for her. Do you, therefore, go to him and say that that young lady is in love with him, and that you will introduce him to her, only he must not give a hint that you have told him anything. Meanwhile I will arrange with my friend, and will be walking in her father's garden some evening, when you can bring him in.' The old woman was delighted with this contrivance, and promised to perform her part. She went, therefore, soon afterwards with a pretended message of love from the merchant's daughter to Balabhadra, who was delighted at having attracted the attention of such a charming young lady, and took care to be at the appointed time in the garden, where he saw his neglected wife playing at ball. As if by accident, she threw the ball towards him, and the old woman said: This is an invitation; pick up the ball, and take it to her with a pretty speech, and you will get acquainted with her.' In this way an intimacy began, and he often met his wife in the same place in the evening without in the least suspecting the deception. At last she gave him a hint that she was ready to run away with him. Madly in love, he eagerly caught at the proposal, and one night, having collected what money he could carry, he eloped with her, saying nothing to any of his friends. They were much astonished by his sudden disappearance; but when they found that Ratnavati was gone also, they readily believed the story told by the old woman, that he had fallen in love with his own wife; but was ashamed to acknowledge this after having so long neglected her, and was therefore gone to live in another place, where he was not known. Believing this story, her relations and his thought it best to take no steps in the matter, and abstained from making inquiry after him. "Meanwhile Balabhadra went to a town at some distance, and there by his skill and energy, though beginning with a small capital, amassed in a few years a considerable fortune, and was much respected in the place. "When Ratnavati eloped under another name, she engaged a woman to accompany her as a servant; and this woman one day having committed some fault, was beaten by her master, who scolded her and told her she was lazy, thievish, and impudent. Smarting under the punishment, she determined to be revenged, and going to the magistrate told him: 'This man, who seems to you so respectable, is a wicked wretch who has abandoned his own wife, and run away in the night with the daughter of one of his neighbours, with whom he is now living.' "The magistrate having heard this, and being very covetous, thought: 'If this man is convicted, his property will be confiscated, and I shall get a share of it.' He therefore began to take proceedings against Balabhadra, who was greatly alarmed. But his wife said to him, 'Do not be frightened; put a good face on the matter, and say: "This is not Kanakavati, the daughter of Niddhipatidatta; this is my own lawful wife, the daughter of Grihagupta, who lives at Valabhi. She was married to me with the proper ceremony and with the full consent of her parents. This woman's accusation is altogether false; but if you will not believe my assertion, send to Valabhi, to my wife's father, and hear what he will say--or send to the town where I formerly lived, and make inquiries there."' "This was done, he was admitted to bail, and a letter was written to the father of Ratnavati, who answered it in person, and declared that the lady in question was really his daughter. Thus the matter was settled; but the husband, thinking that the old man was deceived by the likeness, held to his former belief, and continued to live happily with his wife, without ever discovering the delusion. Therefore I say that love is only imagination." The Rakshas, though appearing to be satisfied with these stories, required me to relate that of Nitambavati, which I proceeded to do. "In a city called Madhura, there dwelt a man named Kalahakantaka, of great strength and vigour, ready at any time to take up the quarrel of a friend, famed for deeds of violence, and devoted to pleasures and amusements. "One day he saw a picture exhibited by a painter, a new-comer, and stopped to look at it. It was the portrait of a lady so beautiful that he fell in love with her at once. Desirous of finding out whom it represented, he praised the picture exceedingly, and having put the artist in good humour, got him to say who the lady was. 'Her name,' said he, 'is Nitambavati; she is the wife of a merchant living at Avanti or Oujein, and I was so struck by her beauty that I sought and obtained permission to paint her portrait.' "On hearing this, Kalahakantaka, taking another name, went to Oujein; and there, having disguised himself as a mendicant, got admission to the merchant's house, saw the lady, whose beauty exceeded even his expectation, and was confirmed in his wicked purpose. "At this time a guardian or watchman was wanted for the public cemetery, and he applied for and obtained the office. "With the clothes which he took from the bodies brought to be burnt there, he bribed an old woman to take a message from him. She went to Nitambavati, and said: 'A very handsome young man is much in love with you--pray let him see you if only for once.' On receiving this message, the merchant's wife was very indignant, and sent the old woman away with angry words. Kalahakantaka, however, was not discouraged, and said to his messenger: 'Go again, and say to the lady: "Do you imagine that a person like me devoted to religious meditation, who have passed so many years in pilgrimages to holy places, would wish to lead you into sin? Far from it. I had heard that you were childless, and wishing for children, and I know of means through which your wish may be accomplished; but I thought it right to find out first whether you were worthy of such a service, and now that I have ascertained you to be virtuous and true to your husband, I will gladly assist you."' "With this story the old cheat went again to the lady, who, believing her to be sincere, gladly accepted the offer, and she went on to say: 'The reason of your being childless is that a spell has been laid upon your husband, which can only be removed by the means which I will indicate to you. You must go at night to a clump of trees in the park. I will come to you there, and will bring with me a man skilled in incantations. You have only to stand for a moment, putting your foot into his hand while he utters certain charms, then go home, and, as if in play, strike your husband on the breast. This will dissolve the spell, and by-and-by you will have children.' Anxious to have the spell removed from her husband, Nitambavati consented to this, and went at night to the appointed place. There she found Kalahakantaka waiting, and as the old woman had directed, put her foot into his hand while he knelt before her. "No sooner had he got hold of it than he took off her anklet, and slipping his hand up her leg, inflicted a slight wound above the knee, and ran away. "The poor lady, dreadfully frightened, blaming herself, and enraged with the old woman, who had so cruelly deceived her, got home as well as she could, washed and bound up the cut, and kept her bed for several days, having taken off the other anklet, that the loss might not be observed. "Meanwhile the rascal took the anklet he had stolen to the husband, saying: 'I wish to dispose of this, will you buy it?' "Recognising the ornament as having been his wife's, he asked: 'Where did you get this?' "The man answered: 'I will not tell you now, but if you are not satisfied that it is honestly mine, take me before the magistrates, and I will then declare how I came by it.' "Upon this the merchant went to his wife and said: 'Let me see your anklets.' "With some confusion and alarm, she answered: 'I have only one of them, the other being, as I suppose, loosely fastened, dropped off a few days ago when I was walking in the evening in the garden, and I have not been able to find it.' "Dissatisfied with this answer, the husband went before the magistrates with the man who had offered the anklet for sale, and he being there questioned, said: 'You know I was appointed not long ago to the care of the public cemetery, and as people come sometimes after dark to steal the clothes, or to lay a dead body on a pile prepared for another, and so cheat me of my fees, I have lately kept watch there at night.' "'A short time ago I saw a woman in a dark dress dragging away part of a half-burnt body, and ran to seize her. In the struggle her anklet came off, and I gave her a slight wound on the leg, but she got away, and I could not overtake her; this is how the ornament came into my possession. I leave it to you to say whether I have done wrong or no.' "Then the magistrates and citizens who were assembled were unanimously of opinion that the woman was a Sâkini.[10] "She was therefore divorced from her husband, and condemned to be tied to a stake in the cemetery, and left there. "In this state she was found by Kalahakantaka, who cut the cords which fastened her, and, falling at her feet, confessed all that he had done, alleging his great love for her as an excuse for his cruel conduct: 'And now,' said he, 'consent to be my wife, and I will carry you away to my own home in a distant country, where you will not be known. I will do everything in my power to make your life happy, and atone for the suffering which I have caused you.' "For a long time the unhappy lady refused; but at last, overcome by his earnest entreaties, and feeling how unjustly she had been disgraced and ill-treated, she consented to accompany him. Thus, by cunning, he gained his end, which he could not have accomplished by any other means. Therefore I say cunning best accomplishes difficult things." Having heard these stories, the Rakshas was much pleased, and offered me his assistance if I should require it. At that moment several pearls fell close beside us. Looking up to see whence they came, I perceived a Rakshas flying through the air, carrying a woman who was struggling with him. "Shall that monster carry off the lady before our eyes? O that I could fly to rescue her!" As I exclaimed thus, my new ally, without waiting to be entreated, sprang into the air, and calling out "Stop! stop! wicked wretch!" attacked and dragged down the other Rakshas. He, in defending himself, when only a short distance from the ground, let the lady fall, and I caught her with outstretched arms in such a manner that, though much shaken and alarmed, she was not seriously injured. I held her for a moment insensible in my arms, while I gazed at the combatants. Their flight was of short duration, for they attacked each other so furiously that both were killed. Then laying my burden on the soft grass in a shady place, and sprinkling her with water, I soon had the happiness of seeing her open her eyes, and of recognising the beloved of my heart, the Princess Kandukavati, who was equally delighted on finding who was her deliverer. When sufficiently recovered, she said to me: "On returning home after the ball dance, longing to see you, and sad with the thought that we might never meet again, I was filled with great happiness by the report which Chandrasena brought me of your love; but when I heard that you had been bound and thrown into the sea by my wicked brother, I fell into the deepest despair, and wished for death. Wandering in this state of mind about the gardens, I was espied by that vile Rakshas, who, having assumed a human form, first made love to me, and then, when rejected, forcibly carried me off. He is, happily, now dead, and all that I have suffered is as nothing now that I am with you; let us return as soon as possible to my parents, who will have been greatly distressed at my disappearance." Without delay I carried her down to the shore, embarked, set sail at once, and the wind being favourable, we soon reached Damalipta. Here we found great confusion and grief among the people, and were told on inquiring: "The king and queen, utterly broken down by the loss of their son and daughter, have determined to abandon life, and have just set out for a holy place on the bank of the Ganges, with the intention of fasting to death there; and several of the old citizens have accompanied them with the same purpose." On hearing this I immediately went after them, and having soon overtaken them, was able to give them great happiness, by telling them of all that had occurred, and how both their son and daughter were safely returned; and they went back with me to the city, to the great joy of the people. The king treated me with great honour, and not long afterwards the princess became my wife. Her brother was reconciled to me, and at my request, though very reluctantly, gave up all further attention to Chandrasena, who was happily united with her lover. When King Sinhavarma was attacked as you know, I marched with an army to his assistance; and have thus the great pleasure of meeting with you. The prince having heard this story said "Your adventures have indeed been strange, and your escape from death wonderful. Great is the power of fate, but excellent also is courage and presence of mind such as you have shown." Then turning to Mantragupta, he desired him to relate his adventures, which he immediately began to do:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF MANTRAGUPTA. My Lord, I also, in my anxiety to find you, wandered about like the others. Late one evening I came to a wood, a few miles from the city of Kalinga, and very near a public cemetery. Seeing no dwelling near, I made myself a bed of leaves, and lay down under a large tree, where I was soon asleep. About midnight, when evil spirits are wont to roam, and everything was quiet around me, I awoke, and fancied I heard a whispering conversation going on among the branches of the tree immediately above me. Listening very attentively, I was able to distinguish these words: "We are powerless to resist that vile Siddha whenever he chooses to command us; could not some person be found powerful enough to counteract the designs of that vile magician?" After this the voices ceased, and I thought I could hear a rustling among the branches as if the speakers were moving from tree to tree. This strange occurrence greatly excited my curiosity. I said to myself: "Who are these creatures whose voices I have heard? who can that magician be, and what dreadful thing is it which he is about to do?" With these thoughts, I determined if possible to discover the mystery, and followed, as well as I was able, the direction which the demons, or whatever they were whom I had heard conversing, had taken. Guided by the rustling sound which I still heard above me, I made my way through the darkness, till at last I thought I saw a light in the distance, and going a little further, I perceived a fire shining through the thick foliage. Approaching very cautiously, I saw a Siddha standing near it, his head covered with a large mass of tangled hair, his body begrimed with the dust of charcoal, and a girdle of human bones round his waist. He was throwing at intervals handfuls of sesamum and mustard-seed into the fire, causing flickering flames to rise up and dispel the surrounding darkness. Before him, in humble attitude, stood two Rakshas, male and female, whom I supposed to be those whose voices I had heard in the tree. They said to him, "We await your commands. What are we now to do?" "Go," he answered in a stern voice, "immediately to the palace of the King of Kalinga, and bring here his daughter Kanakalekha." This they did in an incredibly short time. As soon as she was brought he seized her by the hair, and disregarding her tears and entreaties and screams for help, was about to cut off her head with a sword. Meanwhile I had cautiously crept nearer, and perceiving the danger of the princess, I made a sudden rush at him, snatched the sword from his hand and cut off his head. Seeing this, the two Rakshas approached me, and showing great delight at the death of their cruel master, said to me: "That wicked man has for a long time had power over us; we have continually been compelled to go on his vile errands, and have had no rest night or day. You have done a truly good deed in killing him; your valour has freed us from this slavery; he is gone to the kingdom of Yama, where he will receive the reward of his evil deeds, and we are ready to serve you; say only what is to be done." I thanked them for their grateful offer, and said: "I have only done what every good man would have done under the circumstances; but if you are willing to serve me, all that I require of you is to carry this lady again to her father's house, from which she was so cruelly taken." The princess hearing this, stood for a moment irresolute, with her head bent down, her eyes half closed, her eyebrows quivering, her bosom agitated by hurried breathing and wetted by tears of joy, restlessly moving one foot, as if scratching the ground, and betraying the struggle between bashfulness and love by alternate blushes and paleness. Then, in a low sweet gentle voice, she uttered these words: "O gracious sir, why do you, having just delivered me from a terrible death, now overwhelm me in a sea of love whose waves are the agitations of anxiety driven by the wind of passion? My life, saved by you, is entirely at your disposal. Take pity on me; regard me as your own. Let me be your servant, your slave; I would endure anything rather than separation from you. Come with me to my father's palace; you need not fear discovery; all my friends and attendants are faithful and devoted to me; they will carefully keep the secret." Pierced to the heart by the arrows of Kâma, tied and bound by her looks and words as if with chains of iron, I had no power to refuse, and turning to the two Rakshas, I said: "I have no choice here. Whatever this fair lady commands must be done. Take us both, therefore, to the place from which you brought her." Bowing down in submission, they lifted us from the ground, carried us through the air, and placed us while it was yet night in the apartments of the princess. There she introduced me to her attendants, assigned me a room in the upper story where I might most easily escape detection, and appointed them to keep watch so that no one might enter her apartments without notice. I had thus abundant opportunities of being with the princess; but though my love daily increased, I made no further advances to her. One day some of her women came with tears in their eyes, and bowing down to my feet, said, with whispering timid voice, "O gracious sir, our lady is doubly yours, since she was gained by your own valour when you rescued her from death, and is assigned to you by the all-powerful God of Love. Do not let her languish in vain. Make her your wife without delay." With this request I could not refuse to comply, and taking the hand of the princess, I declared our solemn union. For a time we enjoyed the greatest happiness. It was destined, however, to be of no long duration; our separation was at hand, for now was the time of spring, when the trees were covered with blossoms bent down by the eager bees, and the song of birds was resounding among their branches waved by the soft south wind, bearing perfume from the sandal groves of Malaya; at which season the king was accustomed to go with all his court to the sea-shore, and there, in tents under the shade of lofty trees, to enjoy the cool sea breezes. My bride of course went with the rest; and as there was no possibility of concealing me in such a place, I was obliged, though reluctantly, to let her depart alone, consoling myself by looking forward to her return. The royal party had not long been gone, when news was brought to the city that the king and all his court, thinking only of enjoyment, and unsuspicious of danger, had been captured by Jayasinha, King of Andhra, who, sailing with a large fleet, had suddenly landed and taken them by surprise. This news caused me the greatest consternation. "Jayasinha," I thought, "will certainly be captivated by the beauty of the princess; she will take poison rather than submit to his embraces; and I could not long survive her, for how could I live without her?" While perplexed with this thought, and not knowing what to do, I heard of a brahman just arrived from Andhra, who was full of a strange event which had lately happened there. "The King of Andhra," he said, "has long been a bitter enemy of the King of Kalinga, and having taken him prisoner, was about to kill him, but he has fallen in love with the princess Kanakalekha, and wishing to marry her, not only spares her father's life, but treats him with kindness for her sake. "An unexpected obstacle to the accomplishment of his wishes has, however, arisen; the lady has suddenly become possessed by an evil spirit, whose rage is greatest whenever the king visits her. "Anxious for her recovery, he has offered a large reward to any one who shall succeed in driving out the demon, but as yet no one has been able to effect her cure." This information filled me with hope, for I was well aware of the nature of the princess's disease, and knew that no one but myself could cure it. I was able, therefore, to form a plan for her deliverance, and quickly decided on the disguise to be adopted. At the time when I killed the magician, I had taken off his scalp, with all the mass of tangled hair, and had hid it in a hollow tree. I now went to the place, and taking out this scalp, fitted it on my own head; then rubbing over my whole body with dirt and charcoal dust, and dressing myself in old rags, I was completely disguised as an ascetic--and when I went into the neighbouring villages I was regarded as a very holy devotee, and had many applications from persons wishing for advice or seeking to be cured of diseases. This belief I encouraged to the utmost, and took care to keep up my credit by means of various tricks and contrivances. In this manner I was soon able to collect a number of disciples, glad to live in idleness on the offerings continually brought to me, fully believing in my sanctity, entirely devoted to me, and ready to obey all my commands. Having got together this troop of followers, I went to the side of a tank or small lake not far from the city of Andhra, built myself a hut, and made known that I intended to stay there for a time. The news of my arrival was soon spread abroad by my disciples, who were loud in their praises of my miraculous powers, and the wonderful cures which I had effected; and great numbers of people came from the city to see me, either from curiosity or from the hope of receiving some benefit. In a very short time wonderful stories about me were brought to the Râja. "There is now a very holy devotee sleeping on the ground near the lake; he is possessed of the most marvellous knowledge. There is no question which he cannot answer, no difficulty which he cannot solve. His power of healing is beyond belief; a few grains of dust fallen from his feet, when sprinkled on the head of the sick, are more efficacious than any medicine; and water in which his feet have been washed has cured in a moment diseases, and driven out evil spirits which have resisted for a long time all the efforts of physicians and exorcists. Yet with all this he is exceedingly kind and condescending, and free from pride." The king, hearing all this, thought: "This is just the person I am in need of; no doubt he will be able to cure the princess." He therefore determined to apply to me; but so great was his respect for my dignity and supernatural powers, that he did not venture to send for me, but came several times to see me, distributing each time money among my followers, before mentioning his request that I would drive out the evil spirit from the princess. After hearing his statement, I looked very grave, and appeared for some time to be wrapped in profound meditation. At last I said: "Sir, you have done very right to apply to me; I will undertake that the lady shall be cured, but it would be useless for me to see her at present. The case is a very peculiar one, and the cure requires much thought and consideration; wait therefore for three days, then come again, and I will tell you what is to be done." On receiving this answer, the king went away very well satisfied. That night, as soon as it was dark, telling my followers on no account to disturb me, I went, as if for private meditation, to one side of the tank, at some distance from the steps, and there dug a large hole in the bank sloping upwards, with the opening partly under water and concealed by loose stones above; taking care to throw the excavated earth into the tank. On the third day, at dawn, I rearranged my dress as before, and having worshipped the all-seeing sun as he rose, returned to my followers. I had not long been settled in my usual place when the king made his appearance, and bowing down to my feet, he awaited my pleasure. Having kept him a short time in suspense, I thus addressed him: "Success does not come to the careless, but all advantages are attainable by the energetic; being devoted to your service, I have given my whole mind to the consideration of this difficult affair, and can now point out a certain way to success. "The evil spirit by whom the princess is possessed cannot bear the sight of you in your present form, and therefore breaks out into fury when you appear. If your body can be changed, he will no longer be offended, and will immediately depart; there is no other way by which he can be driven out. I have therefore so prepared this lake that if you bathe in it in accordance with my directions, you will acquire a new and beautiful body acceptable to the lady, and she will no more be troubled with the evil spirit. "You must therefore come here at midnight, and having stripped entirely, swim out into the middle of the tank, and there float on your back as long as possible. Presently a rushing noise will be heard, and the water will be troubled, and dash against the bank. As soon as the commotion has subsided, come forth; you will find that your body has become younger, stronger, and improved in every respect; and when you return to the palace there will be no further difficulty or obstacle on the part of the princess, who will immediately undergo a change in her feelings, and will long for your society as much as she now abhors it. All this is quite certain; you need not have the smallest doubt; but if you think proper, before deciding, consult your ministers, and be guided by their advice. If they consent, first worship the gods and propitiate them with offerings, make large donations to the brahmans and the poor, and come here to-night at the appointed time. That there may be no danger from alligators or concealed enemies, let the tank be thoroughly dragged with nets by a hundred fishermen, and place a line of soldiers all round it with torches in their hands a few steps from the water; with these precautions no possible harm can happen to you." The enamoured king, very anxious for the expulsion of the supposed demon, and fully believing that I had the power to perform what I had promised, went away well pleased, and immediately consulted his ministers. They seeing how eager he was, and not anticipating any possibility of danger, readily approved of the proceeding. Having obtained their consent the king returned to me, and finding that I was about to depart, earnestly entreated me to stay, saying that half the pleasure of success would be taken away if I were not there to witness it; but I answered that there were urgent reasons for my immediate departure, and that I had already remained longer than I had intended to do, solely on his account. I assured him that I had so prepared everything that my presence was now quite unnecessary, that I was about to disappear from the world, and that he would see me no more. Finding me quite determined, he took leave of me with many expressions of respect, and went back to his palace to give orders for the performance of all that I had directed. Accordingly, a large number of fishermen with nets were engaged, by whom the lake was thoroughly dragged, and large donations were made to the brahmans and the poor. Towards evening, soldiers with torches were placed, all round the tank, and at midnight the king, attended by a numerous retinue, and followed by a great crowd anxious to witness the expected miracle, came to the steps leading down to the water, and having undressed there in a tent which had been pitched for that purpose, plunged in and swam out to the middle. Meanwhile I had said to my followers: "I have no further need of you; I am about to retire to a lonely place to practise meditation; you may now leave me; go, and my blessing be upon you." Well satisfied with the gifts they had received, they departed; and when they were gone I slipped unobserved into the lake, and entered the hole which I had prepared. There I remained till I heard the noise of the crowd who came with the king, and perceived him floating on the surface. Diving cautiously under him, I pulled him down, strangled him, and dragged the body into the hole; then swimming to the steps, I boldly came forth, to the astonishment of the attendants, who, though they had expected a miracle, were scarcely prepared for such a great change. No one, however, doubted that I was really their sovereign, and having dressed and mounted an elephant, I entered the city, escorted by the soldiers and followed by a great crowd of people, who had come forth from curiosity, and were loud in their praises of the pious man who had wrought such a miracle. That night I was unable to sleep. In the morning I summoned all the ministers and counsellors, and said: "Behold the power of piety and penance. That holy man has performed a great miracle, and bestowed on me this new body, which you see, by means of the tank which he has consecrated, and through the favour of the gods, whom he had long propitiated; after such a manifestation, who shall doubt their power? Let the faces of all unbelievers be bowed down by shame; let a great and solemn festival be made with song and dance in honour of Brahma, Siva, Yama, and the other deities, the rulers of the world, and distribute much money among the poor." This speech was received with great approbation, and all, congratulating me and praising the gods, performed the duties imposed upon them. After this I went to the women's apartments, and there the first person whom I met was a very devoted servant of the princess, who had been especially attentive to me. She, not imagining what had occurred, would have let me pass without especial notice; but I called her, and said: "Have you never seen me before?" Then indeed she opened her eyes wide with joy and astonishment, saying: "Can it be possible? is not this a delusion? Tell me what it all means." I gave her a brief account of what had happened, and sent her to prepare my wife. How glad she was to see me you may well imagine. So well did we manage, that the secret was kept, no suspicion even arose, and all the people were rejoiced at the favourable change, not only in the person, but in the temper and disposition of their sovereign. In due time I was publicly married to the princess, and reinstated her father in his kingdom. I have now come here with an army to assist the King of Anga, and have thus obtained the great happiness of seeing you again. The prince, having heard this story, said "Your cleverness has indeed been great, and your personation of the Siddha wonderful. May you long continue to possess such wisdom and prudence, combined with wit and cheerfulness." Then, looking at Visruta, he said: "It is now your turn;" and he forthwith began:-- * * * * * ADVENTURES OF VISRUTA. My Lord, as I was wandering one day in the forest of Vindhya, I met with a very handsome boy, standing by the side of a well, crying bitterly. When I asked what was the matter, he said: "The old man who was with me, when trying to get water from this well, fell in, and I am unable to help him. What will become of me?" Hearing this, I looked down the well, which was not very deep, and saw the old man standing at the bottom, the water not being sufficient to cover him. By means of a long and tough stem of a creeper, I pulled him up safely; then using it again as a rope, with a cup made from the hollow stem of a bamboo, I drew water for the poor child, who was half dead with thirst; and finding that he was suffering from hunger also, I knocked down some nuts from the top of a high tree with a well-aimed blow of a stone. The old man was very grateful for my timely assistance; and when we were all comfortably seated in the shade, he gave me, at my request, a long account of the circumstances which had brought him there, saying:-- "There was formerly a King of Vidarba remarkable for wisdom and justice, learned in the Scriptures, a protector of his subjects (by whom he was much beloved), a terror to his enemies, wise in political science, upright and honest in all his actions, kind to his dependents, grateful for even small services, and gracious to all. Having lived the full age of man, he died, leaving a prosperous kingdom to his son Anantavarma, a young man of great abilities, but caring more for the mechanical arts, music, and poetry, than for his duties as a ruler. "One day, one of his father's old counsellors in private addressed him thus: 'Sire, your majesty, with the advantage of royal birth, has almost every good quality that can be desired; your intelligence is very great; your knowledge superior to that of others; but all this, without instruction in political science and attention to public affairs, is insufficient for a king; void of such knowledge, he is despised, not only by foreigners, but by his own subjects, who, disregarding all laws, human and divine, at last perish miserably, and drag down their sovereign in their fall. A king who has not political wisdom, however good his eyesight may be, is regarded by the wise as a blind man, unable to see things as they are. I entreat you, therefore, to give up the pursuits to which you are so devoted, and to study the art of government. Your power will then be strengthened, and you may long reign over a happy and prosperous people.' "To this exhortation the young king appeared to listen attentively; and said: 'Such is the teaching of the wise; it ought to be followed.' "After dismissing the old counsellor, the king went into the women's apartments, and began to talk to them of the exhortation which he had just received. His observations were attentively listened to by one of his constant attendants, who determined, if possible, to turn the king's thoughts in another direction, and prevent him from being influenced by the good advice which had been given. This man had many accomplishments; he was skilled in dancing, music, and singing; quick at repartee; a good story-teller; full of fun and jokes; but devoid of honour and honesty; false, slanderous, a receiver of bribes, a bad man in every way; yet, from his wit and humour, very acceptable to the king, whom he now thus addressed: 'Wherever there is a person of exalted position, there are always clever rogues ready to prey upon him, and, while degrading him, to accomplish their own base purposes. Some, under the guise of religion, will tell him: "The happiness of this world is shortlived and fleeting; eternal happiness can only be obtained by prayer and penance;" and so they persuade him to shave his head, wear a dress of skins, gird himself with a rope of sacred grass, and, renouncing all pleasures and luxuries, to betake himself to fasting and penance, and give away his riches to the poor, meaning, of course, themselves; some of these religious impostors will even persuade their dupes to renounce children, wife--nay, even life itself. "'But suppose a man to have too much sense to be deluded in this way, they will try a different plan; to one they will say: "We can make gold; only furnish us with the means, and your riches shall be increased a thousandfold;" to another: "We can show you how to destroy all your enemies without a weapon;" to another: "Follow our advice, and, though you are nobody now, you shall soon become a great man." "'If their victim is a sovereign, they will say to him: "Four branches of study are said to be proper for kings--the vedas, the purânas, metaphysics, and political science;--but the first three are of very little advantage; they may safely be neglected, and he should give up his mind to the last only. Are there not the six thousand verses composed for the use of kings, and containing the whole science? Learn these by heart, and you will be prepared for all emergencies." So then he must set to work to learn all these crabbed rules. He must; according to them, distrust every one, even wife or son. He must rise early, take a very scanty meal, and immediately proceed to business. "'First he must go over accounts, and balance income and expenditure; and while his rascally ministers pretend to have everything very exact, they have forty thousand ways of cheating him, and take good care of themselves. "'Then he must sit in public, and be tired to death with receiving frivolous complaints and petitions, and will not even have the satisfaction of doing justice; for, whether a cause be just or not, his ministers will take care that the decision shall be according to their own interests. "'Then he is allowed a short time for bathing, dressing, and dining; if, indeed, the poor wretch can venture to dine, with the constant fear of poison in his mind. "'After this he must remain a long time in council with his ministers, perplexed with their conflicting arguments, and unable to understand even the half of them; while they, pretending to act impartially, get everything settled as they had previously agreed and by twisting and distorting the reports of spies and emissaries, manage to serve themselves and their friends, and to get credit for putting down disturbances which they themselves had excited. "'He is now allowed to take a little amusement, but the time for this is restricted to an hour and a half. "'Then he must review his army; hear the reports of the commander of his forces; give orders for peace or war; and act upon the accounts brought by spies and emissaries. "'However weary he maybe with all this, he must sit down and read diligently, like some poor student, for several hours. Then at last he may retire to rest; but before he has had half enough sleep, he will be awaked in the early morning; and the priests will come to him, and say: "There is an unfavourable conjunction of the planets; evil omens have appeared; there is danger impending; the gods must be propitiated; let a great sacrifice be made to-day. The brahmans are continually engaged in supplicating the gods on your behalf; your prosperity is dependent on their prayers; they are miserably poor, and have many children to support; let large donations be made." Thus the greedy wretches, under the pretence of religion, are continually robbing the king and enriching themselves. "'This is the sort of life which you will have to lead, if you give yourself up to the guidance of those greybeards; and, after all, though you may have studied and studied, pored over their musty volumes, and listened to their tedious lectures, you are not sure of doing right. "'And who are these fellows who set themselves up for wise men? Do they always do right? Are they not often themselves cheated by the unlearned? Common sense is far better than all this learning; instinct and feeling will guide us in the right way; even an infant without teaching finds out how to draw nourishment from the mother's breast. Cast aside, then, the rules and restrictions with which these old fools would bind you. Follow your natural inclinations, and enjoy life while you can. You possess youth, beauty, and strength. You have a large army, ten thousand elephants, and three hundred thousand horses; your treasury is full of gold and jewels, and would not be emptied in a thousand years. What more would you have? Life is short, and those who are always thinking of adding to their possessions, go on toiling to the last, and never really enjoy them. "'But why should I waste your time with needless arguments? I see you are already convinced. Commit, then, the cares of government to your ministers; spend your time with your ladies, and congenial friends like me; enjoy drinking, music, and dancing, and trouble yourself no more with affairs of state.' "Having thus spoken, he prostrated himself in very humble attitude at the feet of his master, who remained for a time silent, as if undecided. "The women, who had been listening with delight to all that was said, seeing his hesitation, assembled round him, and, with sweet words and caresses, easily persuaded him to follow his own inclination and theirs. "From that time the young king, given up entirely to pleasures and amusements, left the affairs of the kingdom to his ministers; and, while allowing them to manage as they pleased, provided they did not trouble him, openly treated them with insolence and neglect, and even took pleasure in hearing them ridiculed by the worthless parasites who surrounded him, so that even the wisest of his ministers, while lamenting the sad state of affairs, could only acknowledge their inability to remedy it, and wait till some great public calamity, or the invasion of the country by a neighbouring sovereign, who was gradually extending his dominions by force or cunning, should bring the young king to his senses. "Ere long, what they had expected came to pass; for the King of Asmaka, who had for some time coveted the country, but did not dare openly to invade it while it was strong and prosperous, took measures in secret to weaken the authority of Anantavarma, and diminish his resources; and, lest he should perchance see the error of his ways and abandon his vicious courses, he secretly gave a commission to the son of one of his ministers, a young man of great abilities and agreeable manners, an eloquent flatterer and amusing companion, who arrived at the court of Anantavarma, attended by a numerous retinue, as if travelling about for his own pleasure. "This man soon became intimate with the king, and took care to fall in with all his tastes, and to justify and praise every pursuit which he engaged in. "Thus, if he saw the king fond of hunting, he would say: 'What a fine manly sport this is! How it strengthens the body, braces the spirits, and quickens the intelligence! While roaming over hill and dale, you become acquainted with the country; by destroying the deer and wild buffaloes, you benefit the husbandmen; by killing the tigers and other wild beasts, you make travelling safer.' And he would go on in this way, without any allusion to the damage and destruction caused by the king's hunting expeditions. "If gambling was the favourite amusement, or there was excessive devotion to women, or to drinking, he would very ingeniously bring forward everything that could be said in favour of them, passing over their disadvantages in silence. If the king was lavish to his dependants, he would praise his generosity; if cruel, he would say: 'Such severity is good; you maintain your own dignity by it; a king ought not to be like a patient devotee, submitting to insults, and ready to forgive. "In this manner that wicked wretch obtained great influence over the king, and employed it to lead him into all sorts of excesses. "With such an example before them, all classes gradually became corrupted. The magistrates neglected their duties, and thought only how they might enrich themselves; great criminals, who could bribe, escaped with impunity; the weak were oppressed by the strong; violence and robbery were rampant; disturbances broke out on all sides; and severe and indiscriminating punishments only stirred up indignation, without repressing crime. The revenue diminished, while expenditure was increasing; everywhere loud complaints were heard, and great distress prevailed. "As if all this were not sufficient, the cruel King of Asmaka sent emissaries in all directions to mix unsuspectedly with the inhabitants of Vidarba, and do as much mischief as possible. "Some would distribute subtle poisons in various ways; some would stir up quarrels between neighbouring villages, and so cause party fights; some contrived to let loose a furious elephant into a crowd, or get up an alarm by other means, and so cause a sudden panic, in which the people trampled down each other, and many lives were lost; others, disguised as hunters, promising abundance of game, would tempt men into some narrow valley, between high mountains, where they were devoured by tigers, or, unable to find their way out again, perished of hunger and thirst. "By these and many other devices, they succeeded in destroying life and weakening the country, so that less resistance might be offered to the invader. "Then, thinking the time to be arrived, the King of Asmaka prepared for war. Meanwhile, his emissary was leading on the foolish young king to destruction; and at this very time, as if in perfect security, he was amusing himself with the performances of a celebrated actress and dancer, having, at the instigation of his treacherous friend, persuaded her, by large donations, to leave the King of Kuntala, with whom she was a great favourite. "Indignant at such an insult, that king was easily persuaded to join the King of Asmaka, who had already obtained several other allies eager to have a share in the expected conquest and plunder. "Thus, when the country was actually invaded, no effectual resistance was made; Anantavarma was easily defeated, and fell into the power of his cruel enemy. "The cunning King of Asmaka, who had gained his allies by many liberal promises, had no intention of sharing the conquered country with any one; he professed, however, great disinterestedness; declared that he should be contented with a very small part; and, having desired his allies to arrange between themselves what each should take, contrived, by his intrigues, to make them quarrel over the division. The result was that they fought with, and so weakened each other, that he was able to disregard their claims, and to annex the whole of the conquered country to his own dominions. "After the defeat and death of Anantavarma, an old and faithful minister escaped with the queen and her two children, this boy and his elder sister Manjuvâdini, together with a few faithful followers, including myself; and though the old minister was taken ill and died on the road, the rest arrived safely at Mahishmati, where the queen was well received by the king Amittravarma, a half-brother of her husband, and where she devoted herself to the education of her son, hoping that he might one day recover his father's kingdom. "After a time, however, that king sought to marry his brother's widow; and, having been rejected by her, determined to take revenge by killing her son. "The queen, having discovered his intentions, sent for me, and said: 'My life is wrapped up in this boy; I can endure any thing, so long as he is safe; take him and make your escape at once; I know not where to send you, but if you can find a safe refuge, let me know, and I will come to you, if possible.' "In obedience to her commands, I took the boy, succeeded in escaping with him, and reached a shepherd's hut on the borders of this forest. There we stayed a few days till I saw a man whom I suspected to be searching for us. Fearing discovery, I left the cottage, and entered the forest. Here, while trying to get water to quench the poor child's burning thirst, I slipped into the well, where I should have perished but for your timely assistance; and now, having done us this kindness, will you add to it by protecting the boy, and helping us to reach a place of safety?" "Who was his mother," I asked. "Of what family was she?" "She is the daughter of the King of Oude," he answered, "and her mother was Sagaradatta, daughter of Vaisravana, a merchant of Pâtaliputra." "If so," I replied, "she and my father are cousins by the mother's side; this boy is therefore my relation, and has a right to my protection." The old man was much pleased at hearing this, and I promised not only to protect the boy, but to contrive some means for reinstating him in his proper position, and overcoming that wicked King of Asmaka with cunning equal to his own. For the present, however, the most needful thing was to procure food. While I was considering how to obtain this, two deer passed, pursued by a forester, who shot three arrows and missed them, and, in despair, let fall his bow and two remaining arrows. Hastily snatching up these, I discharged the arrows in rapid succession, and killed both the deer; one of them I gave to the hunter, the other I prepared, and roasted a part of it for ourselves. The forester was astonished by my skill, and delighted at the acquisition of so much food; and it occurred to me that I might get some information from him. I asked him therefore: "Do you know anything of what is going on at Mahishmati?" "I was there early this morning," he answered, "for I had a tiger skin and other skins to sell, and great festivities were in preparation; the Prince Prachandavarma, the king's younger brother, is about to marry the Princess Manjuvâdini, and the rejoicings are on this account." After the forester was gone, I said to the old man (whose name was Nâlijangha): "That wretch Amittravarma is trying to make it up with his sister-in-law by promoting a good marriage for her daughter; no doubt he thinks to persuade her to recall her son, that he may have him in his power. Do you therefore leave the boy with me, and go back at once to his mother. Tell her how you have met with me, and that the child is quite safe under my protection; but give out in public that he has been carried off and devoured by a tiger. I shall come to the city disguised as a beggar; do you wait for me near the cemetery." All this he promised to do, and set off immediately, having first received further directions for the guidance of the queen. After some days, it was generally understood at Mahishmati that the boy who had escaped into the forest had been killed by a tiger; and the king, secretly rejoicing, went to condole with the mother. She appeared as if greatly distressed by the news, and said to him: "I look upon the death of my son as a judgment upon me for not complying with your wishes, and am therefore now ready to become your wife." The old wretch was delighted at her compliance, and preparations were made for the marriage. On the appointed day, in the presence of a numerous assembly, she took a small leafy branch, and dipping it in what appeared to be water, but which really contained a deadly poison, struck him gently with it on the face, saying: "If you are acting right, this will not injure you; if you are sinning in taking me, your brother's wife, and I am faithful to my husband, may this be like the blow of a sword to you." Such was the strength of the poison that he fell dead almost instantaneously. Then dipping the same branch into other water containing an antidote, she struck her daughter in a similar manner; and, as no injury followed, the spectators were fully convinced that the death of Amittravarma was a punishment from heaven. Soon after this (by my directions, and in order to throw him off his guard), she said to Prachandavarma: "The throne is now vacant; you should occupy it at once, and make my daughter your queen." He listened to the suggestion; and, as the young boy, the nephew of the late king, was supposed to be dead, no opposition was made by the people. Then the Queen Vasundhara (also by my directions) sent for some of the late king's ministers, and of the elders of the city, whom she knew to be ill-affected towards Prachandavarma, and said to them: "Last night the goddess Durgâ appeared to me in a vision, and said: 'Your child is safe; I myself, in the form of a tigress, carried him away, to save him from his enemies. In four days from this time Prachandavarma will suddenly die; on the fifth day let all the authorities assemble round my temple on the bank of the river, and close the doors, after having ascertained that no one is concealed inside. After waiting one hour, the door will open and a young brahman will come forth, holding your son by the hand. That boy will become King of Vidarba, and that brahman is to marry your daughter.'" After the divine manifestation in favour of the queen when Amittravarma was struck dead, this account of the vision was readily believed by her hearers, who promised to keep the secret and to be guided by her directions. When the fourth day arrived I entered the city, disguised as a beggar, and brought the boy to his delighted mother, who introduced me to her daughter, whom I greatly admired, and she, though agitated, was evidently pleased with me, even under such a disguise. I did not venture to stay long, and after receiving an alms and assuring the queen that the imagined dream would prove true, I went away, taking the boy with me, and at parting, in order to deceive her attendants, she said aloud: "Your application shall not have been in vain; I will take care to protect your boy." Nâlijangha, the old servant whom I had rescued in the forest, met me on my arrival, and was waiting at the place which I had appointed. I went to him there and asked him for information as to the movements and occupations of the new king. "That doomed man," he answered, "thinking all obstacles removed, and rejoicing at his accession to power, is now amusing himself in the palace gardens, with a number of actors, tumblers, and dancing girls." "I could not have a better opportunity," I replied; "do you therefore stay here with the boy, and wait for me in this old ruin. I shall not be long gone." I then dressed myself in the clothes of a tumbler, which I had brought with me for the purpose, went boldly into the garden, presented myself to the king, and asked for permission to exhibit my skill before him. This was readily granted; an opportunity was soon given me of showing what I could do, and I obtained much applause from the spectators. After a time I begged some of those present to lend me their knives, and I caused much astonishment by the way in which I appeared to balance myself on the points. Then, still, holding one of the knives, I imitated the pouncing of a hawk and an eagle, and having by degrees got near the king, I threw the knife with such good aim, that it pierced him to the heart, and I shouted out at the same time, "Long live Vasantabhânu!" that it might be supposed I had been sent by him. After this, dashing by the guards, who tried to stop me, I suddenly leaped over the wall, and before any of my pursuers could cross it, I had run a long way on the other side. Doubling back, I got behind a great heap of bricks, and from thence, concealed by the trees, succeeded in reaching the ruins unobserved. Here I changed my clothes and went back to the city, as if nothing had happened. In order to have everything ready for my intended concealment, I had gone secretly the day before to the Temple of Durgâ, and had there made an underground chamber, communicating with the interior through an opening in the wall, which was carefully closed with a large stone, and now, taking the boy with me, I entered the hiding place, having been furnished with suitable dresses and ornaments, sent by the queen, through Nâlijangha. The assassination of Prachandavarma was universally attributed to his enemy, the King of Asmaka, and the first part of the prophecy of Durgâ, as told by the queen, being thus accomplished, there was no doubt, on the part of those who were in the secret, as to the fulfilment of the remainder. In the morning a great crowd was assembled round the temple; for although the secret of the queen's vision had been kept, it was generally understood that something wonderful was to take place there. Presently the queen and her attendants arrived, entered the building, and paid their devotions to the goddess, after which the whole temple was carefully searched, to make sure that no one was concealed there, and all having withdrawn, the doors were closed, and the people stood without in silence, anxiously awaiting the pleasure of the goddess. A band then began to play and the kettledrums were loudly struck, so that the sound reached me in the hiding-place. At this, which was the preconcerted signal, I made a great effort, moved the large stone, and came forth with the boy into the temple. Having changed our dresses, I placed the old ones in the hole, carefully refitted the stone, and throwing the temple door wide open, stood in front of the astonished multitude, holding the young prince by the hand. While they were gazing in bewilderment, I thus addressed them: "The great goddess Durgâ, who lately showed herself in a vision to the queen, has been pleased to restore to his longing mother this child, whom she, in the form of a tigress, had carried away, and she commands you, by my mouth, to accept him as your sovereign." Then turning to the queen, I said:--"Receive your child from the hands of Durgâ, who will henceforth protect him as her own son; and by her command accept me as the husband of your daughter." To the ministers and elders I said:--"The goddess has brought me here, not merely as a messenger of her will, but as a defender of your country from that wicked King of Asmaka, whose cruel and unscrupulous intrigues are well known; accept me, therefore, as your deliverer, and as the guardian of the young king appointed by Durgâ." Upon this all broke out into loud acclamations, saying: "Great is the power of the glorious Durgâ! happy the country of which you are the protector!" and I was conducted in triumph to the palace, together with the queen, who could now openly show her joy at the recovery of her son. So well had I managed, that no suspicion arose of the deception which had been practised, and all the people venerated the young king as being especially under the protection of the goddess, and me as the agent chosen by her for his restoration. Thus my authority was well established. I caused, in due time, the young prince to be formally proclaimed king, and had him carefully educated; and I myself received the hand of the lovely Manjuvâdini, as the reward of my services and in obedience to the commands of Durgâ. After some time, however, I began to reflect: "Though my position now seems quite secure, yet, after all, I am a foreigner here, and when the first burst of admiration is over, people may perhaps begin to ask, 'Who is this stranger who has come among us in such a mysterious manner? and what is he that he should thus lord it over us?' And it occurred to me that if I could make friends with an old and much-respected minister, named Aryaketu, so as to trust him entirely, he might be of great assistance to me." Before, however, making any overtures to him, I desired Nâlijangha to try him secretly and ascertain his feelings towards me. My agent, therefore, had many interviews with him, and tried to persuade him that it was not for the good of the country that a stranger and foreigner should occupy such an important position, which ought rather to be held by a native, and that it would be very desirable to get rid of me. To all this Aryaketu answered: "Do not speak against so good a man, and one of such wonderful ability, endowed with such great courage, generosity, and kindness. So many good qualities are rarely found united in one person. I esteem the country very fortunate in having such a ruler, and am convinced, that through him the King of Asmaka will one day be driven out, and our prince established on his father's throne. Nothing shall induce me to plot against such a man." After hearing this from Nâlijangha, I tried the old minister in various ways, and seeing no reason to doubt his fidelity and attachment, I gave him my full confidence, and found him a most useful friend. With his advice and assistance, I was able to appoint efficient officers in every department. I encouraged religion and punished heresy; I kept each of the four castes in their proper sphere, and without oppressing the people, I collected a large revenue, for there is nothing worse than weakness in a ruler, and without money he cannot be strong. [Here the story breaks off abruptly.] * * * * * LITERAL TRANSLATIONS. Page 244. My Lord, I, having a common cause with my friends of wandering, saw among the Suhmans, in the outer park of a city called Damalipta, a great festal crowd. There, in a bower of Atimukta creepers, I saw a certain young man amusing himself with the sound of a lute. I asked him "Worthy sir, what is this festival called? on what account is this beginning, through what cause do you stand in solitude, accompanied (only) by your lute, as if out of spirits, not having done honour to the festival?" He replied: "The King of Suhma, called Tungadhanwa, being without offspring, begged from the feet of Durgâ, called Vindhyavâsiní,[11] dwelling in this abode, having her love for the abode in Vindhya forgotten, two children, and by her in a vision to him sleeping near (her temple) direction was given: 'There shall be produced of thee one son, and one daughter shall be born; but he shall be in subjection to her husband. But let her, beginning from the seventh year till her marriage, propitiate me every month while the moon is in Krittika (the constellation of the Pleiades), with the ball-dance, for the obtaining an excellent husband; and whom she likes, to him she is to be given and let this festival be called the Ball Festival.' So she said. "Then in a very short time the beloved queen of the king, named Mediní, bore a son, and a daughter was born at the same time. That damsel, called Kandukavati, will to-day propitiate the goddess having the moon as a diadem. "But her friend, Chandrasena by name, her foster-sister, was beloved of me; and in these days she has been violently besieged by the king's son Bhimadhanwa. Therefore I, distressed, perplexed at heart by the pain of the arrow-darts of Kâma, somewhat consoling myself with the soft tones of the lute, occupy a solitary place." And at that moment there came near a certain sound of anklets, and a certain lady came up. He indeed having seen her, with eyes opened wide, having risen up, having been embraced by her, sat down; and he said "This is the (lady) dear as my life, separation from whom, burning as it were, burns me up; and by that prince the robber of this, my life, I am brought to a state of coldness, as if by death; and I shall not be able, saying he is the king's son, to practise loyalty towards him; therefore, having caused myself to be favourably regarded by her, I will abandon a life which has no remedy." But she, with her face full of tears, said "O beloved, do not, on my account, engage in violence. Thou, who having been born of a worthy merchant, Arthadâsa, wast called Kosadâsa by thy parents, art called by thy enemies Vèsadâsa (slave of a girl), from thy excessive attachment to me. Thou thyself being dead, I should imagine the popular saying would be (he was) Nrisansa-Vesa--the slave of a wicked one. But now take me to any place you will." But he said to me: "Friend, in the regions seen by you, which was (the most) prosperous, abounding in corn, and having the greatest number of good men?" To him, having laughed a little, I said "Wide is this (world bounded by) ocean and sky. There is no end of pleasant regions in one place or another. But, indeed, if I should not be able to produce some plan causing you to live comfortably here, then, indeed, I will show you the way." Meanwhile, the sounds of jewel-anklets arose. Now she, in a hurry, said: "My lord's daughter Kandukavati is come to propitiate Durgâ with playing at ball; and she is of unforbidden sight in this Kanduka (ball) festival. May the eye of you going to see her be successful; I must be keeping near her." So saying, she went away, and we two followed her. I first saw the red-lipped (lady) standing on the floor of a jewelled stage; and she, seen by me a stranger and at a distance, immediately settled in my heart. And I, having my mind occupied by astonishment, thought: "Is this Lakshmi? for the lotus is not placed in her hand; but in her (Lakshmi's) hand there is a lotus, and she (the goddess) has been all enjoyed by Vishnu, and by former kings; but in this (lady) there is unimpaired faultless youth." While I was thus reflecting, she, faultless in every limb, touching the ground with the tips of her stretched-out fingers, having her dark curled locks shaken, having with agitation saluted the mighty goddess, took hold of the ball, resembling (in colour) the god without a body (_i.e._ Kâma) having his eye reddened by no slight passion; and having dropped it with graceful languor to the ground, having struck it, gently rising, with her bud-like hand having the delicate fingers stretched out, the thumb a little bent; having thrown, it up with the back of the hand, she caught it observed with active grace, in the air as it fell like a bunch of flowers joined with a circle of bees; and she discharged it in middling slow and quick musical time, throwing it very gently; and at that moment she displayed a quick movement with her feet; and when it stopped, she caused it to rise up with numerous blows; and, contrarywise, she caused it to rest; and she made it rise up like a bird, striking it regularly with her left and right hands when it was come straight to her side, and having caught it fallen when it had risen to a very great height, she practised a song-step; and having caused it to go up in various directions, she made it come back again. Thus sporting sweetly in various ways, accepting the words of praise loudly spoken at every moment by the people with their feelings interested come near to the stage, she stands turned towards me (who was) leaning on the shoulder of Kosadaâsa, having just then confidence produced in me, with flushed cheek and wide expanded eye. Then she being caused to have a glancing look like that of Kandarpa when first descended to earth, corresponding therewith having her gracefully-curved creeper[12] eyebrows sportively playing; with the network of the rays of light of her lips oscillated by the waves of the wind of her breath, like twigs moved in sport, as if beating off the bees eager to catch the perfume of heir lotus-face. In the circular whirlings of the ball (caused) by very rapid striking, entering, as it were, a flowery cage, through bashfulness at sight of me; in the Panchavindhu movement shaking off, as if through fear, the five arrows of Kâma simultaneously falling (on her); in the Gomuttrika steps quivering like the brightness shown in the cloud imitating forked lightning; in the harmonious movements of her feet, having the time kept by the sound of the jewelled ornaments; with her lower lip suffused with the brightness of a furtive smile; with the mass of her locks put up again when fallen down; with her jewelled girdle-belt sounding by knocking together; with the brightness of her muslin dress, agitated as it rested on her gracefully prominent full hips; with the beautiful ball, struck by the quivering, bent, and extended arms; with the arms like a loop, turned downwards; with her graceful hair reaching to the end of the back, rolled round upwards; with the game continued (and) not neglected from her rapidity in putting up the fallen-down golden leaf of the ear-ring; with the ball whirled inwards and outwards by the feet and hands throwing it up repeatedly; with the necklace lost to sight through bending down and rising up; the pearls without separation in falling and rising; with the wind of the little branch (stuck) in (or behind) the ear engaged in drying up the paint of the cheek spoilt by the perspiration breaking forth; with one hand engaged in holding back on the surface of her bosom the falling muslin dress; sitting down and rising up, closing and opening her eyes, striking on the ground or in the air, with one ball or more than one, she showed various sorts of play worth looking at. * * * * * PAGE 36. After that, a certain damsel, adorned with a quantity of ornaments, made of jewels, who had become the chief of the whole race of women in the world, attended by a numerous train of modest female friends, having the gait of a swan, having come up softly, having made an offering to the most excellent brahman, of one jewel of the form (colour) of flame, being asked by him: "Who art thou?" Sorrowfully, with a low murmuring voice, very gently, in a submissive attitude, said: "O excellent brahman, I am the daughter of a chief of Asuras, Kalindi by name. My father, the ruler of this world, great in dignity, in a battle in which the immortals were removed to a distance, was made a guest of the city of Yama by Vishnu, impatient of his own valour. Me, immersed in an ocean of grief at separation from him, a certain compassionate perfected devotee told: 'Damsel, a certain mortal, bearing a divine body, having become thy new husband, shall rule over the whole of Pâtâla.'" * * * * * PAGE 309. Having propitiated with clasped hands, put together in the form of the red lotus; the mass of rays coloured by the red sandalwood body of the thousand-eyed elephant of the eastern quarter having a thousand flames, the witness of things (which ought) to be done and not to be done, the unique sea-monster leaping over the row of cloud-waves of the celestial ocean, the graceful actor dancing on the stage of the golden rock, the one lion the tearer of the scented elephant of nocturnal darkness, the jewel arranged at the top of the pearl necklace the canopy of the stars; I went to my own dwelling. And three days being gone, when the lord of day had a splendour of colour common to it with the red chalk side of the peak of the western mountain, and was looking like the orb of one bosom of the Goddess of Twilight, united with the body of Siva, under the name of atmosphere, for the disparagement of the daughter of the king of mountains; that king also having come, stood in humble attitude, having his diadem eclipsed by the rays from the nails of the feet of this person placed on the ground; and he was thus addressed:-- * * * * * PROPER NAMES, ETC., OCCURRING IN THE TALES. _Alaka_, a mountain inhabited by Kuvera and the Yakshas. _Ambâlika_, the daughter of Sinhavarma, wife of Mantragupta. _Amittravarma_, King or Governor of Mahishmati. _Anantavarma_, King of Vidarba. _Apahâravarma_, son of Prahâravarma, and one of the nine companions of Râjahansa. _Apsaras_, heavenly females, nearly corresponding with the houris of the Mahometans. _Arthapâla_, son of Kâmapâla, one of the nine companions of Râjahansa. _Arthapati_, a merchant at Champa, who wished to marry Kulapâlika. _Aryaketu_, a minister and friend of Visruta. _Asura_, a general term for various supernatural beings not regarded as gods, but in general hostile to them, nearly the same as the jins or genii of the "Arabian Nights." _Avantisundari_, daughter of Mânasâra, wife of Râjavâhana. _Balabhadra_, a merchant, husband of Ratnavati. _Bâlachandrika_, wife of Pushpodbhava, and friend of Avantisundari. _Bandhupâla_, a merchant, father of Bâlachandrika. _Betel and pawn_, a mixture for chewing, frequently offered in politeness, as snuff with us. _Bheels_, savages, wild tribes, robbers. _Bhimadhanwa_, brother of Kandukavati. _Buddhist_, a disciple of Buddha. Buddha was a Hindoo reformer, whose followers were once very numerous in India, but at the date of these stories had been much diminished in number, through the persecutions of the brahmans. They still, however, form a large part of the population of Ceylon, Thibet, China, and some other countries, though the comparatively pure religion of the founder has for the most part degenerated into gross idolatry and unmeaning ceremonies. _Chakravâka_, name of a bird quoted for affection, as turtle-doves by us. _Chandâla_, a pariah, outcast. _Chandrasena_, foster-sister of the Princess Kandukavati. _Châtaka_, a bird supposed to be very fond of rain, and to make a loud noise at its approach. _Dhanamittra_, husband of Kulapâlika, friend of Apahâravarma. _Dharmapâla_, one of Râjahansa's ministers. _Dharmavardhana_, King of Sravasti. _Durga_ or _Kâli_, wife of Siva, a terrific goddess, delighting in human sacrifices. _Gaurí_, wife of Siva. _Ghee_, liquid butter, or butter which has been liquefied. _Indra_, the chief of the inferior gods, presiding over the clouds, rain, thunder, &c. _Kailâsa_, a mountain, part of the Himâlaya chain. _Kalahakantaka_, the man who fell in love with a portrait. _Kalindí_, Queen of Pâtâla, wife of Matanga. _Kalpasundari_, wife of Vikatavarma, afterwards of Upahâravarma. _Kâma_ or _Kandarpa_, the God of Love. _Kâmamanjari_, the actress who seduced the Muni. _Kâmapâla_, son of Dharmapâla, minister and son-in-law of the King of Benâres. _Kanakalekha_, daughter of the King of Kalinga, wife of Mantragupta. _Kandukavati_, the princess who performed the ball-dance. _Kantaka_, the gaoler killed by Upahâravarma. _Kantimati_, the wife of Kâmapâla, mother of Arthapâla. _Kirâta_, a savage, forester, Bheel. _Kosadâsa_, lover of Chandrasena. _Kusa-grass_, a scented grass, much used at sacrifices for laying offerings on, &c. _Kuvera_, the God of Wealth, whose attendants were the Yakshas. _Magadha_, the kingdom of Râjahansa. _Mahâkâla_, a famous temple of Siva, the object of many pilgrimages. _Mahishmati_, name of a city. _Malaya_, a mountain, or range of mountains, having many sandal trees, the perfume from which was supposed to be carried a long distance by the wind. _Mâlwa_, the kingdom of Mânasâra. _Mânapâla_, the officer who guarded Vâmalochana. _Mânasâra_, King of Mâlwa, conqueror of Râjahansa. _Manibhadra_, a Yaksha, father of Târâvali. _Manjuvâdiní_, daughter of Anantavarma, wife of Visruta. _Mantra_, a verse or chapter in the vedas, any prayer or words recited as a charm. _Mâríchi_, a great muni seduced by Kâmamanjari. _Matanga_, a brahman who went down to Pâtâla together with Râjavâhana. _Mithila_, a city or country, called also Videha. _Mitragupta_, one of the nine companions of Râjavâhana. _Muni_, a holy man devoted to study, meditation, and penance. _Nâlijangha_, the old man whom Visruta rescued from the well. _Nârâyana_, a name of Vishnu, an incarnation of the three principal gods, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva. _Navamâlika_, daughter of the King of Sravasti, wife of Pramati. _Padmodbhava_, one of Râjahansa's ministers. _Pâtâla_, a fabulous subterranean country. _Prachandavarma_, King or Governor of Mahishmati, killed by Visruta. _Prahâravarma_, King of Mithila, father of Apahâravarma and Upahâravarma. _Priyamvada_, Queen of Prahâravarma. _Purnabhadra_, the reformed robber, servant of Kâmapâla. _Pushpapuri_, the capital of Magadha. _Râgamanjari_, an actress, sister of Kâmamanjari. _Râjahansa_, king of Magadha, father of Râjavâhana, the hero of the story. _Rakshas_ or _Rakshasas_, evil spirits or ogres, hostile to men, whom they used to devour. _Rati_, a goddess, wife of Kâma. _Rishi_, nearly the same as Muni, a holy man retired from the world, devoted to prayer and meditation. _Satyavarma_, son of a minister of Râjahansa, and father of Somadatta. _Savara_, fem. _Savari_, a savage, not a Hindoo. _Siddha_ (literally perfected), a very holy devotee. _Simanta_, a religious ceremony performed on behalf of a woman at a certain period of pregnancy. _Sinhaghosha_, the deposed King of Benâres. _Sinhavarma_, King of Anga, father of Ambâlika. _Sitavarma_, one of Râjahansa's ministers. _Sringâlika_, the nurse of Râgamanjari. _Siva_, one of the three chief gods or triad of the Hindoos, Brahma, Siva, and Vishnu, who are sometimes regarded as one, sometimes confounded with each other. _Sumantra_, son of Dharmapâla. _Susruta_, son of Padmodbhava. _Târâvali_, a Yaksha lady, wife of Kâmapâla. _Vâmadeva_, a holy man consulted by Râjahansa. _Vâmalochana_, daughter of Víraketu, wife of Somadatta. _Vasumati_, Queen of Râjahansa. _Vasundhara_, Queen of Anantavarma the King of Vidarba. _Vidarba_, name of a country. _Videha_, a country called also Mithila. _Vidyâdhara_, one of the numerous demigods. _Vidyeswara_, the conjuror who married Râjavâhana to Avantisundari. _Vikatavarma_, King of Mithila, husband of Kalpasundari. _Vimardaka_, a keeper of a gaming house, employed by Apahâravarma. _Víraketu_, King of Pâtali, father of Vâmalochana. _Yaksha_, a sort of demigod or fairy, a servant of Kuvera. _Yama_, God and Judge of the Infernal Regions. _Yati_, an ascetic, a devotee. _Yavana_, a Greek, an Arabian--any foreigner. THE END. * * * * * FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: A religious ceremony on behalf of a woman at a certain period of pregnancy.] [Footnote 2: The Hindoos attach much importance to certain marks on the body, such as the lines on the hands, &c.] [Footnote 3: Kusa-grass, or kuskus, is used for strewing the floor of a sacrificial enclosure, for laying offerings on, and for other sacred uses.] [Footnote 4: To be pushed in through opening in a wall, so as to receive any blow which might be given.] [Footnote 5: To be let loose that it might put out the lights.] [Footnote 6: Hindoo women, when absent from their husbands, always wear, or used to wear, their hair done up into a single braid.] [Footnote 7: The author has here made a mistake which cannot be explained. In the introductory chapter Pramati is the son of Sumati, and there is nowhere mention of a second son of Kâmapâla. The confusion of names is, however, of little importance, since the adventures of Arthapâla and Pramati are quite distinct.] [Footnote 8: Increaser of virtue.] [Footnote 9: It was considered a very great sin to be, even indirectly, the cause of the death of a brahman.] [Footnote 10: An evil spirit, the ghoul of the "Arabian Nights," the readers of which will remember the story of Amina, who goes out at night to feast on dead bodies.] [Footnote 11: The inhabitant of Vindhya.] [Footnote 12: Resembling tendrils.] * * * * * 
11310	----	Hindu Tales from the Sanskrit Translated by S. M. Mitra Adapted by Mrs. Arthur Bell 1919 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. Thanks to Mr. S. M. Mitra, the well-known Hindu psychologist and politician, who has done so much to draw more closely together the land of his birth and that of his adoption, I am able to bring within reach of English children a number of typical Hindu Tales, translated by him from the Sanskrit, some of them culled from the ancient classics of India, others from widely separated sources. The latter have hitherto been quite inaccessible to western students, as they are not yet embodied in literature, but have been transmitted orally from generation to generation for many centuries. These tales are not only of a kind to enchain the attention of children. They also illustrate well the close affinity between the two chief branches of the great Aryan race, and are of considerable ethical value, reflecting, as they do, the philosophy of self-realisation which lies at the root of Hindu culture. They have been used from time immemorial by the best teachers of India as a means of building up the personalities of the young and maintaining the efficiency of the adult. They serve in fact as text-books of the unique system of Mind-Training which has been in use in India from remote Vedic times, the root principle of which is as simple as it is effective. Hindu children become familiar at their mothers' knees with these stories, and are trained to answer questions on them, subtly chosen to suit their ages and call into action their mental faculties. Appealing to them as an amusing game, in which they vie with each other in trying to solve the problems presented for their consideration, the boys and girls, who are educated together till they are ten or twelve years old, early learn to concentrate their attention; whilst the simultaneous development of all their powers is encouraged and they are, imperceptibly to themselves led to control their thoughts and emotions from within, instead of having to obey orders which they do not understand from without. They realize indeed, whilst still in the nursery, the ideal suggested by the sage Vidura in the Mahabharata: "Seek to know thyself by means of thyself, keeping thy mind, intellect and senses, under control; for self is thy friend as it is also thy foe." Nancy Bell. Southbourne-on-Sea, 1918. CONTENTS. 1. The Magic Pitcher 2. The Story of a Cat, a Mouse, a Lizard and an Owl 3. A Royal Thief-Catcher 4. The Magic Shoes and Staff 5. The Jewelled Arrow 6. The Beetle and the Silken Thread 7. A Crow and His Three Friends 8. A Clever Thief 9. The Hermit's Daughter STORY I The Magic Pitcher. CHAPTER I Long, long ago there lived far away in India a woodcutter called Subha Datta and his family, who were all very happy together. The father went every day to the forest near his home to get supplies of wood, which he sold to his neighbours, earning by that means quite enough to give his wife and children all that they needed. Sometimes he took his three boys with him, and now and then, as a special treat, his two little girls were allowed to trot along beside him. The boys longed to be allowed to chop wood for themselves, and their father told them that as soon as they were old enough he would give each of them a little axe of his own. The girls, he said, must be content with breaking off small twigs from the branches he cut down, for he did not wish them to chop their own fingers off. This will show you what a kind father he was, and you will be very sorry for him when you hear about his troubles. All went well with Subha Datta for a long time. Each of the boys had his own little axe at last, and each of the girls had a little pair of scissors to cut off twigs; and very proud they all were when they brought some wood home to their mother to use in the house. One day, however, their father told them they could none of them come with him, for he meant to go a very long way into the forest, to see if he could find better wood there than nearer home. Vainly the boys entreated him to take them with him. "Not to-day," he said, "you would be too tired to go all the way, and would lose yourselves coming back alone. You must help your mother to-day and play with your sisters." They had to be content, for although Hindu children are as fond of asking questions as English boys and girls, they are very obedient to their parents and do all they are told without making any fuss about it. Of course, they expected their father would come back the day he started for the depths of the forest, although they knew he would be late. What then was their surprise when darkness came and there was no sign of him! Again and again their mother went to the door to look for him, expecting every moment to see him coming along the beaten path which led to their door. Again and again she mistook the cry of some night-bird for his voice calling to her. She was obliged at last to go to bed with a heavy heart, fearing some wild beast had killed him and that she would never see him again. 1. What do you think had become of Subha Datta? 2. What would you have done when he did not come back? CHAPTER II When Subha Datta started for the forest, he fully intended to come back the same evening; but as he was busy cutting down a tree, he suddenly had a feeling that he was no longer alone. He looked up, and there, quite close to him, in a little clearing where the trees had been cut down by some other woodcutter, he saw four beautiful young girls looking like fairies in their thin summer dresses and with their long hair flowing down their backs, dancing round and round, holding each other's hands. Subha Datta was so astonished at the sight that he let his axe fall, and the noise startled the dancers, who all four stood still and stared at him. The woodcutter could not say a word, but just gazed and gazed at them, till one of them said to him: "Who are you, and what are you doing in the very depths of the forest where we have never before seen a man?" "I am only a poor woodcutter," he replied, "come to get some wood to sell, so as to give my wife and children something to eat and some clothes to wear." "That is a very stupid thing to do," said one of the girls. "You can't get much money that way. If you will only stop with us we will have your wife and children looked after for you much better than you can do it yourself." 3. What would you have said if you had been the woodcutter? 4. Do you think the fairies really meant that they could do as they offered? CHAPTER III Subha Datta, though he certainly did love his wife and children, was so tempted at the idea of stopping in the forest with the beautiful girls that, after hesitating a little while, he said, "Yes, I will stop with you, if you are quite sure all will be well with my dear ones." "You need not be afraid about that," said another of the girls. "We are fairies, you see, and we can do all sorts of wonderful things. It isn't even necessary for us to go where your dear ones are. We shall just wish them everything they want, and they will get it. And the first thing to be done is to give you some food. You must work for us in return, of course." Subha Datta at once replied, "I will do anything you wish." "Well, begin by sweeping away all the dead leaves from the clearing, and then we will all sit down and eat together." Subha Datta was very glad that what he was asked to do was so easy. He began by cutting a branch from a tree, and with it he swept the floor of what was to be the dining-room. Then he looked about for the food, but he could see nothing but a great big pitcher standing in the shade of a tree, the branches of which hung over the clearing. So he said to one of the fairies, "Will you show me where the food is, and exactly where you would like me to set it out?" At these questions all the fairies began to laugh, and the sound of their laughter was like the tinkling of a number of bells. 5. What was there to laugh at in the questions of Subha Datta? 6. What is your idea of a fairy? CHAPTER IV When the fairies saw how astonished Subha Datta was at the way they laughed, it made them laugh still more, and they seized each other's hands again and whirled round and round, laughing all the time. Poor Subha Datta, who was very tired and hungry, began to get unhappy and to wish he had gone straight home after all. He stooped down to pick up his axe, and was just about to turn away with it, when the fairies stopped their mad whirl and cried to him to stop. So he waited, and one of them said: "We don't have to bother about fetching this and fetching that. You see that big pitcher. Well, we get all our food and everything else we want out of it. We just have to wish as we put our hands in, and there it is. It's a magic pitcher--the only one there is in the whole wide world. You get the food you would like to have first, and then we'll tell you what we want." Subha Datta could hardly believe his ears when he heard that. Down he threw his axe, and hastened to put his hand in the pitcher, wishing for the food he was used to. He loved curried rice and milk, lentils, fruit and vegetables, and very soon he had a beautiful meal spread out for himself on the ground. Then the fairies called out, one after the other, what they wanted for food, things the woodcutter had never heard of or seen, which made him quite discontented with what he had chosen for himself. 7. What would you have wished for if you had had a magic pitcher? 8. Would it be a good thing, do you think, to be able to get food without working for it or paying for it? CHAPTER V The next few days passed away like a dream, and at first Subha Datta thought he had never been so happy in his life. The fairies often went off together leaving him alone, only coming back to the clearing when they wanted something out of the pitcher. The woodcutter got all kinds of things he fancied for himself, but presently he began to wish he had his wife and children with him to share his wonderful meals. He began to miss them terribly, and he missed his work too. It was no good cutting trees down and chopping up wood when all the food was ready cooked. Sometimes he thought he would slip off home when the fairies were away, but when he looked at the pitcher he could not bear the thought of leaving it. 9. What sort of man do you think Subha Datta was from what this story tells you about him? 10. What do you think was the chief cause of his becoming discontented after he had been in the service of the fairies for a few days? CHAPTER VI Soon Subha Datta could not sleep well for thinking of the wife and children he had deserted. Suppose they were hungry when he had plenty to eat! It even came into his head that he might steal the pitcher and take it home with him when the fairies were away. But he had not after all the courage to do this; for even when the beautiful girls were not in sight, he had a feeling that they would know if he tried to go off with the pitcher, and that they would be able to punish him in some terrible way. One night he had a dream that troubled him very much. He saw his wife sitting crying bitterly in the little home he used to love, holding the youngest child on her knee whilst the other three stood beside her looking at her very, very sadly. He started up from the ground on which he lay, determined to go home at once; but at a little distance off he saw the fairies dancing in the moonlight, and somehow he felt again he could not leave them and the pitcher. The next day, however, he was so miserable that the fairies noticed it, and one of them said to him: "Whatever is the matter? We don't care to keep unhappy people here. If you can't enjoy life as we do, you had better go home." Then Subha Datta was very much frightened lest they should really send him away; so he told them about his dream and that he was afraid his dear ones were starving for want of the money lie used to earn for them. "Don't worry about them," was the reply: "we will let your wife know what keeps you away. We will whisper in her ear when she is asleep, and she will be so glad to think of your happiness that she will forget her own troubles." 11. Do you think what the fairies said to the woodcutter was likely to comfort him about his wife and children? 12. If you had been in Subha Datta's place what would you have said to the fairies when they made this promise? CHAPTER VII Subha Datta was very much cheered by the sympathy of the fairies, so much so that he decided to stop with them for a little longer at least. Now and then he felt restless, but on the whole the time passed pleasantly, and the pitcher was a daily delight to him. Meanwhile his poor wife was at her wits' end how to feed her dear children. If it had not been that the two boys were brave, plucky little chaps, she really would have been in despair. When their father did not come back and all their efforts to find him were in vain, these boys set to work to help their mother. They could not cut down trees, but they could climb them and chop off small branches with their axes; and this they did, making up bundles of faggots and selling them to their neighbours. These neighbours were touched by the courage they showed, and not only paid them well for the wood but often gave them milk and rice and other little things to help them. In time they actually got used to being without Subha Datta, and the little girls nearly forgot all about him. Little did they dream of the change that was soon to come into their lives. 13. Was it a good or a bad thing for the boys that their father did not come back? 14. If you think it was a good thing, will you explain why? and if it was a bad thing, why you think it was? CHAPTER VIII A month passed peacefully away in the depths of the forest, Subha Datta waiting on the fairies and becoming every day more selfish and bent on enjoying himself. Then he had another dream, in which he saw his wife and children in the old home with plenty of food, and evidently so happy without him that he felt quite determined to go and show them he was still alive. When he woke he said to the fairies, "I will not stop with you any longer. I have had a good time here, but I am tired of this life away from my own people." The fairies saw he was really in earnest this time, so they consented to let him go; but they were kind-hearted people and felt they ought to pay him in some way for all he had done for them. They consulted together, and then one of them told him they wished to make him a present before he went away, and they would give him whatever he asked for. 15. What do you think it was that made Subha Datta determine to go home when he found his wife and children could do without him? 16. What would you have chosen if the fairies had told you you could have anything you liked? CHAPTER IX Directly the woodcutter heard he could have anything he asked for, he cried, "I will have the magic pitcher." You can just imagine what a shock this was to the fairies! You know, of course, that fairies always keep their word. If they could not persuade Subha Datta to choose something else, they would have to give him their beloved, their precious pitcher and would have to seek their food for themselves. They all tried all they could to persuade the woodcutter to choose something else. They took him to their own secret treasure-house, in an old, old tree with a hollow trunk, even the entrance to which no mortal had ever been allowed to see. They blindfolded him before they started, so that he could never reveal the way, and one of them led him by the hand, telling him where the steps going down from the tree began. When at last the bandage was taken from his eyes, he found himself in a lofty hall with an opening in the roof through which the light came. Piled up on the floor were sparkling stones worth a great deal of gold and silver money, and on the walls hung beautiful robes. Subha Datta was quite dazed with all lie saw, but he was only an ignorant woodcutter and did not realize the value of the jewels and clothes. So when the fairies, said to him, "Choose anything you like here and let us keep our pitcher," he shook his head and said: "No! no! no! The pitcher! I will have the pitcher!" One fairy after another picked up the rubies and diamonds and other precious stones and held them in the light, that the woodcutter might see how lovely they were; and when he still only shook his head, they got down the robes and tried to make him put one of them on. "No! the pitcher! the pitcher!" he said, and at last they had to give it up. They bound his eyes again and led him back to the clearing and the pitcher. 17. Would you have been tempted to give up the pitcher when you saw the jewels and the robes? 18. What made Subha Datta so determined to have the pitcher? CHAPTER X Even when they were all back again in the clearing the fairies did not quite give up hope of keeping their pitcher. This time they gave other reasons why Subha Datta should not have it. "It will break very easily," they told him, "and then it will be no good to you or any one else. But if you take some of the money, you can buy anything you like with it. If you take some of the jewels you can sell them for lots of money." "No! no! no!" cried the woodcutter. "The pitcher! the pitcher! I will have the pitcher!" "Very well then, take, the pitcher," they sadly answered, "and never let us see your face again!" So Subha Datta took the pitcher, carrying it very, very carefully, lest he should drop it and break it before he got home. He did not think at all of what a cruel thing it was to take it away from the fairies, and leave them either to starve or to seek for food for themselves. The poor fairies watched him till he was out of sight, and then they began to weep and wring their hands. "He might at least have waited whilst we got some food out for a few days," one of them said. "He was too selfish to think of that," said another. "Come, let us forget all about him and go and look for some fruit." So they all left off crying and went away hand in hand. Fairies do not want very much to eat. They can live on fruit and dew, and they never let anything make them sad for long at a time. They go out of this story now, but you need not be unhappy about them, because you may be very sure that they got no real harm from their generosity to Subha Datta in letting him take the pitcher. 19. Do you think the woodcutter was wrong to ask for the pitcher? 20. What would have been the best thing for Subha Datta to ask for, if he had decided to let the fairies keep their pitcher? CHAPTER XI You can just imagine what a surprise it was to Subha Datta's wife and children when they saw him coming along the path leading to his home. He did not bring the pitcher with him, but had hidden it in a hollow tree in the wood near his cottage, for he did not mean any one to know that he had it. He told his wife that he had lost his way in the forest, and had been afraid he would never see her or his children again, but he said nothing about the fairies. When his wife asked him how he had got food, he told her a long story about the fruits he had found, and she believed all he said, and determined to make up to him now for all she thought he had suffered. When she called the little girls to come and help her get a nice meal for their father, Subha Datta said: "Oh, don't bother about that! I've brought something back with me. I'll go and fetch it, but no one is to come with me." Subha Datta's wife was sorely disappointed at this, because she loved her husband so much that it was a joy to her to work for him. The children too wanted, of course, to go with their father, but he ordered them to stop where they were. He seized a big basket which was fall of fuel for the fire, tumbled all the wood in it on the floor, and went off alone to the pitcher. Very soon he was back again with his basket full of all sorts of good things, the very names of which his wife and children had no idea of. "There!" he cried; "what do you think of that? Am I not a clever father to have found all that in the forest? Those are the 'fruits' I meant when I told Mother about them." 21. What would you have thought about this wonderful supply of food, if you had been one of the woodcutter's children? 22. Was it a good thing for those children to have all this food without working for it? If not, why was it not a good thing? CHAPTER XII Life was now, of course, completely changed for the family in the forest. Subha Datta no longer went to cut wood to be sold, and the boys also left off doing so. Every day their father fetched food for them all, and the greatest desire of each one of the family was to find out where it came from. They never could do so, for Subha Datta managed to make them afraid to follow him when he went forth with his basket. The secret he kept from the wife to whom he used to tell everything soon began to spoil the happiness of the home. The children who had no longer anything to do quarrelled with each other. Their mother got sadder and sadder, and at last decided to tell Subha Datta that, unless he would let her know where the food came from, she would go away from him and take her little girls with her. She really did mean to do this, but something soon happened to change everything again. Of course, the neighbours in the wood, who had bought the fuel from the boys and helped them by giving them fruit and rice, heard of the return of their father and of the wonderful change in their lot. Now the whole family had plenty to eat every day, though none of them knew where it all came from. Subha Datta was very fond of showing off what he could do, and sometimes asked his old friends amongst the woodcutters to come and have a meal with him. When they arrived they would find all sorts of good things spread out on the ground and different kinds of wines in beautiful bottles. This went on for some months, Subha Datta getting prouder and prouder of all that he could do, and it seemed likely that his secret would never be discovered. Everybody tried to find it out, and many followed him secretly when he set forth into the woods; but he was very clever at dodging them, hiding his treasure constantly in a new place in the dead of the night. If he had only been content with getting food out of his pitcher and drinking pure water, all would most likely have been well with him. But that was just what he could not do. Till he had his pitcher he had never drunk anything but water, but now he often took too much wine. It was this which led to the misfortune of losing his beloved pitcher. He began to boast of his cleverness, telling his friends there was nothing they wanted that he could not get for them; and one day when he had given them a very grand feast, in which were several rare kinds of food they had asked for, he drank too much wine--so much that he no longer knew what he was saying. This was the chance his guests wanted. They began teasing him, telling him they believed he was really a wicked robber, who had stolen the food or the money to buy it. He got angry, and at last was actually silly enough to tell them all to come with him, and he would show them he was no robber. When his wife heard this, she was half pleased to think that now at last the secret would come out of where the food came from, and half afraid that something terrible would happen. The children too were greatly excited, and went with the rest of the party, who followed their father to the last hiding-place of the precious pitcher. When, they all got very near the place, however, some idea began to come into Subha Datta's head that he was doing a very foolish thing. He stopped suddenly, turned round facing the crowd that followed him, and said he would not go a step further till they all went back to the cottage. His wife begged him to let her at least go with him, and the children all clamoured not to be sent back, but it was no good. Back they all had to go, the woodcutter watching till they were out of sight. 23. Would Subha Datta have been wise if he had told has wife about the pitcher? 24. Do you think it would have been a good or a bad thing for the secret to be found out? CHAPTER XIII When the woodcutter was quite sure that every one was gone and nobody could see where he had hidden the pitcher, he took it from the hole in which it lay and carried it carefully to his home. You can imagine how everybody rushed out to meet him when he came in sight, and crowded round him, so that there was danger of the pitcher being thrown to the ground and broken. Subha Datta however managed to get into the cottage without any accident, and then he began to take things out of the pitcher and fling them on the ground, shouting, "Am I a robber? Am I a robber? Who dared to call me a robber?" Then, getting more and more excited, he picked up the pitcher, and holding it on his shoulder began to dance wildly about. His wife called out to him, "Oh, take care, take care! You will drop it!" But he paid no attention to her. Suddenly, however, he began to feel giddy and fell to the ground, dropping the pitcher as he did so. It was broken to pieces, and a great cry of sorrow went up from all who saw the accident. The woodcutter himself was broken-hearted, for he knew that he had done the mischief himself, and that if only he had resisted the temptation to drink the wine he would still have his treasure. He was going to pick up the pieces to see if they could be stuck together, but to his very great surprise lie could not touch them. He heard a silvery laugh, and what sounded like children clapping their hands, and he thought he also heard the words, "Our pitcher is ours again!" Could it all have been a dream? No: for there on the ground were the fruits and cakes that had been in the pitcher, and there were his wife, his children and his friends, all looking sadly and angrily at him. One by one the friends went away, leaving Subha Datta alone with his family. 25. If you had been Subha Datta's wife, what would you have done when this misfortune came to her husband? 26. What would you have done if you had been the woodcutter? CHAPTER XIV This is the end of the story of the Magic Pitcher, but it was the beginning of a new chapter in the lives of Subha Datta and his family. They never forgot the wonder-working pitcher, and the children were never tired of hearing the story of how their father came to get it. They often wandered about in the forest, hoping that they too would meet with some wonderful adventure, but they never saw the fairies or found a magic pitcher. By slow degrees the woodcutter returned to his old ways, but he had learnt one lesson. He never again kept a secret from his wife; because he felt sure that, if he had told her the truth about the pitcher when he first came home, she would have helped him to save the precious treasure. 27. What lesson can be learnt from this story? 28. Do you think it is easier for a boy or a girl to keep a secret? 29. Why is it wrong to let out a secret you have been told? 30. What do you think was the chief fault in the character of Subha Datta? STORY II The Story of a Cat, a Mouse, a Lizard and an Owl. CHAPTER I This is the story of four creatures, none of whom loved each other, who lived in the same banyan tree in a forest in India. Banyan trees are very beautiful and very useful, and get their name from the fact that "banians," as merchants are called in India, often gather together in their shade to sell their goods. Banyan trees grow to a very great height, spreading their branches out so widely that many people can stand beneath them. From those branches roots spring forth, which, when they reach the ground, pierce it, and look like, columns holding up a roof. If you have never seen a banyan tree, you can easily find a picture of one in some dictionary; and when you have done so, you will understand that a great many creatures can live in one without seeing much of each other. In an especially fine banyan tree, outside the walls of a town called Vidisa, a cat, an owl, a lizard and a mouse, had all taken up their abode. The cat lived in a big hole in the trunk some little distance from the ground, where she could sleep very cosily, curled up out of sight with her head resting on her forepaws, feeling perfectly safe from harm; for no other creature, she thought, could possibly discover her hiding-place. The owl roosted in a mass of foliage at the top of the tree, near the nest in which his wife had brought up their children, before those children flew away to seek mates for themselves. He too felt pretty secure as long as he remained up there; but he had seen the cat prowling about below him more than once, and was very sure that, if she should happen to catch sight of him when he was off his guard seeking his prey and obliged to give all his attention to what he was doing, she might spring out upon him and kill him. Cats do not generally attack such big birds as owls, but they will sometimes kill a mother sitting in her nest, as well as the little ones, if the father is too far off to protect them. The lizard loved to lie and bask in the sunshine, catching the flies on which he lived, lying so still that they did not notice him, and darting out his long tongue suddenly to suck them into his mouth. Yet he hid from the owl and the cat, because he knew full well that, tough though he was, they would gobble him up if they happened to be hungry. He made his home amongst the roots on the south side of the tree where it was hottest, but the mouse had his hole on the other side amongst damp moss and dead leaves. The mouse was in constant fear of the cat and the owl. He knew that both of them could see in the dark, and he would have no chance of escape if they once caught sight of him. 1. Which of these four creatures do you think was most to be pitied? 2. Do you think that animals ever hate or love each as human creatures do? CHAPTER II The lizard and the mouse could only get food in daylight; but the lizard did not have to go far for the flies on which he lived, whilst the mouse had a very dangerous journey to take to his favourite feeding place. This was a barley field a short distance from the banyan tree, where he loved to nibble the full ears, running up the stalks to get at them. The mouse was the only one of the four creatures in the banyan tree who did not feed on others; for, like the rest of his family, he was a vegetarian, that is to say, he ate nothing but vegetables and fruit. Now the cat knew full well how fond the mouse was of the barley-field, and she used to keep watch amongst the tall stems, creeping stealthily about with her tail in the air and her green eyes glistening, expecting any moment to see the poor little mouse darting hastily along. The cat never dreamt that any danger could come to her, and she trod down the barley, making quite a clear path through it. She was quite wrong in thinking herself so safe, for that path got her into very serious trouble. It so happened that a hunter, whose great delight was to kill wild creatures, and who was very clever in finding them, noticing every little thing which could shew him where they had passed by, came one day into the barley-field. He spied the path directly and cried, "Ha! ha! Some wild animal has been here; not a very big one; let's have a look for the footprints!" So he stooped down to the ground, and very soon saw the marks of pussy's feet. "A cat, I do believe," he said to himself, "spoiling the barley she doesn't want to eat herself. I'll soon pay her out." The hunter waited until the evening lest the creature should see what he was going to do, and then in the twilight he set snares all over the barley-field. A snare, you know, is a string with a slip-knot at the end of it; and if an animal puts his head or one of his paws into this slip-knot and goes on without noticing it, the string is pulled tight and the poor creature cannot get free. 3. Was it right or wrong of the hunter to set the snare? 4. Do you think the cat was wrong to lie in wait for the mouse? CHAPTER III Exactly what the hunter expected happened. The cat came as usual to watch for the mouse, and caught sight of him running across the end of the path. Puss dashed after him; and just as she thought she really had got him this time, she found herself caught by the neck, for she had put her head into one of the snares. She was nearly strangled and could scarcely even mew. The mouse was so close that he heard the feeble mew, and in a terrible fright, thinking the cat was after him, he peeped through the stems of the barley to make sure which way to run to get away from her. What was his delight when he saw his enemy in such trouble and quite unable to do him any harm! Now it so happened that the owl and the lizard were also in the barley-field, not very far away from the cat, and they too saw the distress their hated enemy was in. They also caught sight of the little mouse peeping through the barley; and the owl thought to himself, "I'll have you, my little friend, now puss cannot do me any harm," whilst the lizard darted away into the sunshine, feeling glad that the cat and the owl were neither of them now likely to trouble their heads about him. The owl flew quietly to a tree hard by to watch what would happen, feeling so sure of having the mouse for his dinner that he was in no hurry to catch him. 5. What would you have done if you had been the mouse, when you saw the cat in the snare? 6. Was the owl wise or foolish to wait before he caught the mouse? CHAPTER IV The mouse, small and helpless though he was, was a wise little creature. He saw the owl fly up into the tree, and knew quite well that if he did not take care he would serve as dinner to that great strong bird. He knew too that, if he went within reach of the claws of the cat, he would suffer for it. "How I do wish," he thought to himself, "I could make friends with the cat, now she is in distress, and get her to promise not to hurt me if ever she gets free. As long as I am near the cat, the owl will not dare to come after me." As he thought and thought, his eyes got brighter and brighter, and at last he decided what he would do. He had, you see, kept his presence of mind; that is to say, he did not let his fright of the cat or the owl prevent him from thinking clearly. He now ventured forth from amongst the barley, and coming near enough to the cat for her to see him quite clearly, but not near enough for her to reach him with her claws, or far enough away for the owl to get him without danger from those terrible claws, he said to the cat in a queer little squeaky voice: "Dear Puss, I do not like to see you in such a fix. It is true we have never been exactly friends, but I have always looked up to you as a strong and noble enemy. If you will promise never to do me any harm, I will do my best to help you. I have very sharp teeth, and I might perhaps be able to nibble through the string round your beautiful neck and set you free. What do you think about it?" 7. Do you think there was any chance of a cat and a mouse becoming real friends? 8. Can you give two or three instances you know of presence of mind in danger? CHAPTER V When the cat heard what the mouse said, she could hardly believe her ears. She was of course ready to promise anything to anyone who would help her, so she said at once: "You dear little mouse, to wish to help me. If only you will nibble through that string which is killing me, I promise that I will always love you, always be your friend, and however hungry I may be, I will starve rather than hurt your tender little body." On hearing this, the mouse, without hesitating a moment, climbed up on to the cat's back, and cuddled down in the soft fur near her neck, feeling very safe and warm there. The owl would certainly not attack him there, he thought, and the cat could not possibly hurt him. It was one thing to pounce down on a defenceless little creature running on the ground amongst the barley, quite another to try and snatch him from the very neck of a cat. The cat of course expected the mouse to begin to nibble through the string at once, and became very uneasy when she felt the little creature nestle down as if to go to sleep, instead of helping her. Poor Pussy could not turn her head so as to see the mouse without drawing the string tighter, and she did not dare to speak angrily lest she should offend him. "My dear little friend," she said, "do you not think it is high time to keep your promise and set me free?" Hearing this, the mouse pretended to bite the string, but took care not to do so really; and the cat waited and waited, getting more miserable every minute. All through the long night the same thing went on: the mouse taking a little nap now and then, the cat getting weaker and weaker. "Oh," she thought to herself, "if only I could get free, the first thing I would do would be to gobble up that horrid little mouse." The moon rose, the stars came out, the wind murmured amongst the branches of the banyan tree, making the unfortunate cat long to be safe in her cosy home in the trunk. The cries of the wild animals which prowl about at night seeking their food were heard, and the cat feared one of them might find her and kill her. A mother tiger perhaps would snatch her, and take her to her hungry cubs, hidden away in the deep forest, or a bird of prey might swoop down on her and grip her in his terrible claws. Again and again she entreated the mouse to be quick, promising that, if only he would set her at liberty, she would never, never, never forget it or do any harm to her beloved friend. 9. What do you suppose the mouse was thinking all this time? 10. If you had been the mouse, would you have trusted to what the cat said in her misery? CHAPTER VI It was not until the moon had set and the light of the dawn had put out that of the stars that the mouse, made any real effort to help the cat. By this time the hunter who had set the snare came to see if he had caught the cat; and the poor cat, seeing him in the distance, became so wild with terror that she nearly killed herself in the struggle to get away. "Keep still! keep still," cried the mouse, "and I will really save you." Then with a few quick bites with his sharp teeth he cut through the string, and the next moment the cat was hidden amongst the barley, and the mouse was running off in the opposite direction, determined to keep well out of sight of the creature he had kept in such misery for so many hours. Full well he knew that all the cat's promises would be forgotten, and that she would eat him up if she could catch him. The owl too flew away, and the lizard went off to hunt flies in the sunshine, and there was not a sign of any of the four inhabitants of the banyan tree when the hunter reached the snare. He was very much surprised and puzzled to find the string hanging loose in two pieces, and no sign of there having been anything caught in it, except two white hairs lying on the ground close to the trap. He had a good look round, and then went home without having found out anything. When the hunter was quite out of sight, the cat came forth from the barley, and hastened back to her beloved home in the banyan tree. On her way there she spied the mouse also hurrying along in the same direction, and at first she felt inclined to hunt him and eat him then and there. On second thoughts however she decided to try and keep friends with him, because he might help her again if she got caught a second time. So she took no notice of the mouse until the next day, when she climbed down the tree and went to the roots in which she knew the mouse was hidden. There she began to purr as loud as she could, to show the mouse she was in a good humour, and called out, "Dear good little mouse, come out of your hole and let me tell you how very, very grateful I am to you for saving my life. There is nothing in the world I will not do for you, if you will only be friends with me." The mouse only squeaked in answer to this speech, and took very good care not to show himself, till he was quite sure the cat was gone beyond reach of him. He stayed quietly in his hole, and only ventured forth after he had heard the cat climb up into the tree again. "It is all very well," thought the mouse, "to pretend to make friends with an enemy when that enemy is helpless, but I should indeed be a silly mouse to trust a cat when she is free to kill me." The cat made a good many other efforts to be friends with the mouse, but they were all unsuccessful. In the end the owl caught the mouse, and the cat killed the lizard. The owl and the cat both lived for the rest of their lives in the banyan tree, and died in the end at a good old age. 11. Do you think it is ever possible to make a real friend of an enemy? 12. What do you think the mouse deserved most praise for in his behaviour? 13. Which of the four animals in this story do you like best and which do you dislike most? 14. Can an animal be blamed for acting according to its nature? For instance, can you call it cruel for a cat or an owl to kill and eat a mouse? 15. Is it always right to forgive an injury? 16. Can you give an example from history of the forgiveness of an injury? STORY III A Royal Thief-Catcher. CHAPTER I In one of the smaller cities of India called Sravasti the people gathered together on a very hot day to stare at and talk about a stranger, who had come in to the town, looking very weary and walking with great difficulty because his feet were sore with tramping for a long distance on the rough roads. He was a Brahman, that is to say, a man who devoted his whole life to prayer, and had promised to give up everything for the sake of pleasing the god in whom he believed, and to care nothing for comfort, for riches, or for good food. This Brahman carried nothing with him but a staff to help him along, and a bowl in which to receive the offerings of those who thought it their duty to help him and hoped by doing so to win favour in the sight of God. He was naked, except for a cloth worn about his loins, and his long hair was all matted together for want of combing and brushing. He made his way very slowly and painfully through the crowds, till he came to a shady corner, and there he sank down exhausted, holding out his bowl for the gifts of the people. Very soon his bowl would have been full of all sorts of good things, but he made it clear that he would accept nothing to eat except rice still in the husk, and nothing to drink but pure water. He was however willing to take money; and when the people who wished to help him found that out, they brought him a good many silver and gold pieces. Some who had no money to spare gave him jewels and other things which could be sold for money. 1. Can you explain why the Brahman would only accept such food as rice in the husk and water? 2. Do you think it was right or wrong of the Brahman to take money and jewels? CHAPTER II As time went on, the Brahman became very well known in Sravasti. His fame indeed spread far beyond the town, and people came from far away to consult him about all sorts of things, and he gave them good advice, for he was a very wise man. Those who wanted him to tell them what to do paid him for his advice, and as some of them had plenty of money and were glad to help him, he soon became quite rich. He might have done a great deal of good with all this money by helping the poor and suffering, but unfortunately he never thought of doing so. Instead of that, he got to love the money for its own sake. At night, when all those who had come to see him had gone to rest, and there was no fear of his being found out, he used to steal away into the forest, and there he dug a deep hole at the root of a great tree, to which he took all his money and jewels. In India everybody has a siesta, that is to say, a sleep in the middle of the day, because the heat is so great it is difficult to keep well and strong without this extra rest. So, although it is quite light at the time, the streets are deserted, except for the dogs who prowl about, trying to find something to eat. Now the Brahman loved his money and other treasures so much, that he used very often to do without this siesta and go to the forest to enjoy the pleasure of looking at them. When he got to the tree, he would bend down, clear away the earth and leaves with which he had hidden his secret hole, take out the money and let it slip through his fingers, and hold up the jewels to the light, to watch how they gleamed and glistened. He was never so happy as when he was alone with his riches, and it was all he could do to tear himself away from them when the time came to go back to his shady corner. In fact he was becoming a selfish miser instead of the holy man the people of Sravasti thought he was. By the time the siesta was over he was always back again in his place beneath the tree, holding out his bowl and looking as poor and thin as ever, so that nobody had the least idea of the truth. 3. Why was it wrong for the Brahman to hide away his money and jewels? 4. Can anyone be a miser about other things as well as money and jewels? If so, what other things? CHAPTER III For many months the Brahman led this double life; until one day, when he went as usual to his hiding-place, he saw at once that some one had been there before him. Eagerly he knelt down, full of fear of exactly what had actually happened. All his care in concealing the hole had been wasted, for it was quite empty. The poor man could not at first believe his own eyes. He rubbed them hard, thinking that there was something the matter with them. Then he felt round and round the hole, hoping that after all he was mistaken; and when at last he was obliged to believe the terrible truth that there really was not a sign of his money and jewels, he became almost mad with misery. He began to run from tree to tree, peering into their roots, and when there was nothing to be seen, he rushed back again to his empty hole, to look into it once more. Then he wept and tore at his hair, stamped about and cried aloud to all the gods he believed in, making all kinds of promises, of what he would do if only they would give him back his treasures. No answer came, and he began to wonder who could have done such a terrible thing. It must, he felt sure, have been one of the people of Sravasti; and he now remembered he had noticed that a good many of them had looked into his bowl with longing eyes, when they saw the money and precious stones in it. "What horrible, wicked people they are," he said to himself. "I hate them. I should like to hurt them as they have hurt me." As he thought in this way he got more and more angry, until he became quite worn out with giving way to his rage. 5. What would you have done if you had been the Brahman when he lost his treasure? 6. Is it wrong to be angry when any one has done you an injury? CHAPTER IV After roaming about in the forest for a long time, the Brahman went back to the house in Sravasti where some kind people had lent him a room, glad and proud to have such a holy man, as they thought he was, living under their roof. He felt sure they had had nothing to do with the loss of his treasure, because they had given him many proofs of their goodness and honesty. Soon he was pouring out all his grief to them, and they did all they could to comfort him, telling him that he would very soon have plenty more money and jewels. They let him see however that they thought it was mean of him to hide away his riches, instead of using them to help the poor and suffering; and this added very much to his rage. At last he lost all self-control and cried, "It is not worth while for me to live any longer. I will go to some holy place of pilgrimage by the banks of the river, and there I will starve myself to death." A place of pilgrimage, you know, is one where some great event, generally connected with religion, has taken place, to which pilgrims go to pray in the hope of winning some special favour from God. The word pilgrim means a wanderer, but it has come in course of time to signify any traveller who comes from a distance to some such place. Benares in India is a very famous place of pilgrimage, because it is on the River Ganges, which the Hindus worship and love, believing that its waters can wash away their sins. Hundreds and thousands of Hindus go there every year to bathe in it, and many who know that they have not long to live wait on its banks to die, so that after their bodies have been burnt, as is the custom with the Hindus, their ashes may be thrown into the sacred stream. 7. Can you name two other places of pilgrimage, one held sacred by Christians and one by Hindus? 8. Will you explain exactly why the two places you have thought of are considered holy? CHAPTER V The news of the Brahman's loss spread very quickly through Sravasti; and as is so often the case, every one who told the story made it a little different, so that it became very difficult to know what the truth really was. There was great distress in the town, because the people thought the Brahman would go away, and they did not want him to do that. They were proud of having a man they thought so holy, living amongst them, and ashamed that he should have been robbed whilst he was with them. When they heard that he meant to starve himself to death, they were dreadfully shocked, and determined to do all they possibly could to prevent it. One after another of the chief men of Sravasti came to see him, and entreated him not to be in such a hurry to be sure that his treasure would never be found. They said they would all do everything they possibly could to get it back for him. Some of them thought it was very wrong of him to make such a fuss about it, and blamed him for being a miser. They told him it was foolish to care so much for what he could not take with him when he died, and one specially wise old man gave him a long lecture on the wickedness of taking away the life which had been given to him by God to prepare for that in the other world. "Put the idea of starving yourself out of your head," he said, "and whilst we are seeking your treasure, go on as you did before you lost it. Next time you have any money and jewels, turn them to good account instead of hoarding them up." 9. Do you think the Brahman was of any real use to the people of Sravasti? 10. In what qualities do you think the Brahman was wanting when he made up his mind to starve himself to death? CHAPTER VI In spite of all that any one could say to him, the Brahman was quite determined that he would not live any longer. He set off to the place of pilgrimage he had chosen, taking no notice of any one he met, but just marching steadily on. At first a number of people followed him, but by degrees they left off doing so, and soon he was quite alone. Presently however he could not help noticing a man approaching from the direction in which he was going. Very tall, very handsome, very dignified, this man was one whom no one could fail to admire, even if he had been only an ordinary person. But he was the king of the whole country, whose name was Prasnajit; and a little distance behind him were a number of his attendants, waiting to obey his orders. Everybody, even the Brahman, loved the king, because he took such a very great interest in his people and was always trying to do them good. He had heard all about the loss of the money, and was very much vexed that such a thing should have happened in his land. He had also heard that the Brahman meant to kill himself, and this distressed him more than anything else, because he thought it a very wicked and terrible thing to do. The king stood so exactly in the path of the Brahman that it was impossible to pass him by without taking any notice of him, and the unhappy man stood still, hanging down his head and looking very miserable. Without waiting for a moment, Prasnajit said to the Brahman: "Do not grieve any more. I will find your treasure for you, and give it back to you; or if I fail to do so I will pay you as much as it was worth out of my own purse: for I cannot bear to think of your killing yourself. Now tell me very carefully where you hid your gold and jewels, and everything about the place, to help me to make sure of it." The Brahman was greatly delighted to hear this, because he knew full well that the king would keep his word, and that, even if his own treasure was never found, he would have plenty of money given to him by the king. He at once told Prasnajit exactly where he had put his store, and offered to take him there. The king agreed to go with him at once, and he and the Brahman went straight away to the big hole in the forest, the attendants following them a little way behind. 11. If you had been the king, how would you have set about finding the treasure? 12. Was it a good or a bad thing for the Brahman to have secured the help of the king? CHAPTER VII After the king had seen the big empty hole, and noticed exactly where it was, and the nearest way to it from the town, he returned to his palace, first telling the Brahman to go back to the house he lived in, and wait there till he received a message from him. He promised to see that he wanted for nothing, and sent one of his attendants to a rich merchant of Sravasti, who had already done a good deal for the Brahman, to order him to supply the holy man with all he needed. Very glad that after all he was not going to die, the Brahman obeyed willingly, and for the next few days he was taken care of by the merchant, who supplied him with plenty of food. As soon as Prasnajit was back in his palace, he pretended that he was taken suddenly ill. His head ached badly, he said, and he could not make out what was the matter with him. He ordered a proclamation to be sent all round the town, telling all the doctors to come to the palace to see him. All the doctors in the place at once hastened to obey, each of them hoping that he would be the one to cure the king and win a great reward. So many were they that the big reception room was full of them, and they all glared at each other so angrily that the attendants kept careful watch lest they should begin to fight. One at a time they were taken to the king's private room, but very much to their surprise and disappointment he seemed quite well and in no need of help from them. Instead of talking about his own illness, he asked each doctor who his patients were in the town, and what medicines he was giving to them. Of course Prasnajit's questions were carefully answered; but the king said nothing more, just waving his hand to shew that the interview was at an end. Then the attendants led the visitor out. At last however a doctor came, who said something which led the king to keep him longer than he had kept any of the others. This doctor was a very famous healer who had saved the lives of many of Prasnajit's subjects. He told the king that a merchant named Matri-Datta was very ill, suffering greatly, but that he hoped to cure him by giving him the juice of a certain plant called nagaballa. At the time this story was written, doctors in India did not give their patients medicine, or write prescriptions for them to take to chemists to be made up, because there were no chemists in those days, such as there are in all the towns of Europe, who keep the materials in stock for making medicines. A doctor just said to his patient, "you must take the juice of this or that plant"; and the suffering person had to go into the fields or woods to find the plant or else to send a servant to do so. When the king heard that the doctor had ordered Matri-Datta to take the juice of the nagaballa plant, he cried "No more doctors need come to see me!" and after sending away the one who had told him what he wanted to know, he gave orders that Matri-Datta should be sent for at once. 13. Can you guess why the king sent for the doctors? 14. Do you think Matri-Datta had anything to do with stealing the Brahman's treasure? CHAPTER VIII Ill and suffering though he was, Matri-Datta did not dare disobey the king: so he came at once. As soon as he appeared, Prasnajit asked him how he was, and said he was sorry to have to make him leave his home when he was ill, but the matter on which he wished to see him was of very great importance. Then he suddenly added: "When your doctor ordered you to take the juice of the nagaballa plant whom did you send to find it?" To this Matri-Datta replied trembling with fear: "My servant, O king, sought it in the forest; and having found it, brought it to me." "Go back and send that servant to me immediately," was the reply; and the merchant hurried away, wondering very much why the king wanted to see the man, and hoping that he himself would not get into disgrace on account of anything he had done to make Prasnajit angry. 15. Have you any idea why the king wanted the servant sent to him? 16. From what the story tells you so far, do you think Prasnajit was a good ruler of his kingdom? CHAPTER IX When Matri-Datta told his servant that he was to go to the palace to see the king, the man was dreadfully frightened, and begged his master not to make him go. This made Matri-Datta pretty sure that he had done something wrong and was afraid of being found out. "Go at once," he said, "and whatever you do, speak the truth to the king. That will be your only chance if you have offended him." Again and again the servant entreated Matri-Datta not to insist, and when he found it was no good, he asked him at least to come with him to the palace and plead for him with Prasnajit. The merchant knew then for certain that something was seriously wrong, and he consented to go to the palace with his servant, partly out of curiosity and partly out of fear for himself. When the two got to the palace, the attendants at once led the servant to the presence of the king, but they would not let the master go with him. Directly the servant entered the room and saw the king sitting on his throne, he fell upon his face at the foot of the steps, crying, "Mercy! mercy!" He was right to be afraid, for Prasnajit said to him in a loud voice: "Where are the gold and the jewels you took from the hole in the roots of a tree when you went to find the nagaballa plant for your master?" The servant, who really had taken the money and jewels, was so terrified when he found that the king knew the truth, that he had not a word to say at first, but just remained lying on the ground, trembling all over. Prasnajit too was silent, and the attendants waiting for orders behind the throne looked on, wondering what would happen now. 17. Have you guessed what the nagaballa plant had to do with finding out who had stolen the money and jewels? 18. If you had been the king, what punishment would you have ordered for the thief? CHAPTER X When the silence had lasted about ten minutes, the thief raised his head from the ground and looked at the king, who still said not a word. Something in his face however made the wicked servant hope that he would not be punished by death in spite of the great wrong he had done. The king looked very stern, it is true, but not enraged against him. So the servant rose to his feet, and clasping his hands together as he held them up to Prasnajit, said in a trembling voice: "I will fetch the treasure, I will fetch the treasure." "Go then at once," said the king, "and bring it here": and as he said it, there was a beautiful expression in his eyes, which made the thief more sorry for what he had done than he would have been if Prasnajit had said, "Off with his head!" or had ordered him to be beaten. 19. What do you think is the best way to make wicked people good? 20. What is the most powerful reason a man or woman or a child can have for trying to be good? CHAPTER XI As soon as the king said, "Go at once," the servant started to his feet and hastened away, as eager now to restore what he had stolen as he had been to hide it. He had put it in another hole in the very depths of the forest; and it was a long time before he got back to the palace with it, for it was very heavy. He had thought the king would send some guards with him, to see that he did not run away, and that they would have helped him to carry the sack full of gold and jewels; but nobody followed him. It was hard work to drag the heavy load all the way alone; but at last, quite late in the evening, he was back at the palace gates. The soldiers standing there let him pass without a word, and soon he was once more in the room in which the king had received him. Prasnajit still sat on his throne, and the attendants still waited behind him, when the thief, so tired he could hardly stand, once more lay prostrate at the bottom of the steps leading up to the throne, with the sack beside him. How his heart did beat as he waited for what the king would say! It seemed a very long time before Prasnajit spoke, though it was only two or three minutes; and when he did, this is what he said, "Go back to your home now, and be a thief no more." Very, very thankfully the man obeyed, scarcely able to believe that he was free to go and that he was not to be terribly punished. Never again in the rest of his life did he take what did not belong to him, and he was never tired of telling his children and his friends of the goodness of the king who had forgiven him. 21. Do you think it would have been better for the thief to have been punished? 22. What lesson did the thief learn from what had happened to him? CHAPTER XII The Brahman, who had spent the time of waiting in prayers that his treasure should be given back to him, and was still determined that, if it were not, he would starve himself to death, was full of delight when he heard that it had been found. He hastened to the palace and was taken before the king, who said to him: "There is your treasure. Take it away, and make a better use of it than before. If you lose it again, I shall not try to recover it for you." The Brahman, glad as he was to have his money and jewels restored, did not like to be told by the king to make a better use of them. Besides this he wanted to have the thief punished; and he began talking about that, instead of thanking Prasnajit and promising to follow his advice. The king looked at him much as he had looked at the thief and said: "The matter is ended so far as I have anything to do with it: go in peace." The Brahman, who was accustomed to be honoured by every one from the king on his throne to the beggars in the street, was astonished at the way in which Prasnajit spoke to him. He would have said more, but the king made a sign to his attendants, two of whom dragged the sack to the entrance of the palace and left it there, so that there was nothing for the Brahman to do but to take it away with him. Every one who has read this wonderful story would, of courses like to know what became of him after that, but nothing more is told about him. 23. Do you think that the Brahman learnt anything from his loss and recovery of his treasure? 24. Was the Brahman more wicked than, the thief or the thief than the Brahman? 25. Do you think the Brahman continued to be a miser for the rest of his life? 26. What were the chief characteristics of the king--that is to say, what sort of man do you think he was? 27. Which of the people who are spoken of in this story do you like and admire most, and which do you dislike most? STORY IV The Magic Shoes and Staff. CHAPTER I Far, far away in a town of India called Chinchini, where in days long gone by the ancient gods in whom the people believed are said sometimes to have appeared to those who called upon them for help, there lived three brothers of noble birth, who had never known what it was to want for food, or clothes, or a house to live in. Each was married to a wife he loved, and for many years they were all as happy as the day was long. Presently however a great misfortune in which they all shared befell their native country. There was no rain for many, many weeks; and this is a very serious thing in a hot country like India, because, when it does not rain for a long time, the ground becomes so parched and hard that nothing can grow in it. The sun is very much stronger in India than it is in England; and it sent forth its burning rays, drying up all the water in the tanks and changing what had been, a beautiful country, covered with green crops good for food, into a dreary desert, where neither men nor animals could get anything to eat. The result of this was that there was a terrible famine, in which hundreds of people and animals died, little children being the first to suffer. Now the three brothers, who had none of them any children, got frightened at the state of things, and thought to themselves, "If we do not escape from this dreadful land, we shall die." They said to each other: "Let us flee away from here, and go somewhere where we are sure of being able to get plenty to eat and drink. We will not take our wives with us; they would only make things worse for us; let us leave them to look after themselves." 1. What do you think of the behaviour of the three brothers? Was there any excuse for their leaving their wives behind them? 2. Do you think the wives themselves can have been to blame in any way in the matter? CHAPTER II So the three wives were deserted, and had to manage as best they could without their husbands, who did not even trouble to wish them goodbye. The wives were at first very sad and lonely, but presently a great joy came to one of them which made the other two very happy as well. This joy was the birth of a little boy, whose two aunts loved him almost as much as his mother did. The story does not tell how they all got food whilst the famine was going on, though it is very evident that they were not starved, for the baby boy grew fast and was a strong healthy little fellow. One night all the three wives had the same dream, a very wonderful one, in which the god Siva, who is very much honoured in India, appeared to them. He told them that, looking down from Heaven, he had noticed how tenderly they cared for the new-born baby, and that he wished them to call him Putraka. Besides this he astonished them by adding that, as a reward for the unselfish way in which they had behaved, they would find one hundred thousand gold pieces under the little child's pillow every morning, and that one day that little child would be a king. 3. Do you think the three women wanted to be rewarded for loving the baby? 4. Is it a good thing to have a great deal of money? CHAPTER III The wonderful dream was fulfilled, and the mother and aunts called the boy Putraka. Every morning they found the gold pieces under his pillow, and they took care of the money for him, so that when he grew up he was the very richest man in the whole country. He had a happy childhood and boyhood, his only trouble being that he did not like having never seen his father. His mother told him about the famine before he was born, and how his father and uncles had gone away and never come back. He often said, "When I am a man I will find my father and bring him home again." He used his money to help others, and one of the best things he did was to irrigate the land; that is to say, he made canals into which water was made to flow in times when there was plenty of rain, so that there was no danger of there being another famine, such as that which had driven his father and uncles away. The country in which he lived became very fruitful; everybody had enough to eat and drink; and Putraka was very much loved, especially by the poor and unhappy. When the king who ruled over the land died, everybody wanted Putraka to take his place, and he was chosen at once. 5. Will you describe the kind of man you think Putraka was? 6. Do you know of any other country besides India in which everything depends on irrigation? CHAPTER IV One of the other wise things Putraka did, when he became king, was to make great friends with his Brahman subjects. Brahmans are always very fond of travelling, and Putraka thought, if he were good and generous to them, they would talk about him wherever they went, and that perhaps through them his father and uncles would hear about him. He felt sure that, if they knew he was now a king ruling over their native land, they would want to come back. He gave the Brahmans plenty of money, and told them to try and find his father and uncles. If they did, they were to say how anxious he was to see them, and promise them everything they wanted, if only they would return. 7. Do you think it was wise of Putraka to be so anxious to get his father and uncles back, when he knew how selfish they had been in leaving his mother and aunts behind them? 8. Can you suggest anything else Putraka might have done in the matter? CHAPTER V Just what the young king hoped came to pass. Wherever the Brahmans went they talked about the country they came from and the wonderful young king who ruled over it. Putraka's father and uncles, who were after all not so very far off, heard the stories about him, and asked the Brahmans many questions. The answers made them very eager to see Putraka, but they did not at first realize that he was closely related to them. Only when they heard the name of his mother did they guess the truth. Putraka's father knew, when he deserted his wife, that God was going to give her a child soon; which made it even more wicked of him to leave her. Now, however, he forgot all about that, only thinking how he could make as much use as possible of the son who had become a king. He wanted to go back at once alone, but the uncles were not going to allow that. They meant to get all they could out of Putraka too; and the three selfish men, who were now quite old, set off together for the land they had left so long ago. They arrived safely, and made their way to the palace, where they were received, with great rejoicings. None of the wives, said a word of reproach to, the husbands who had deserted them; and as for Putraka, he was so overjoyed at having his father back, that he gave him a beautiful house to live in and a great deal of money. He was very good to his uncles too, and felt that he had now really nothing left to wish for. 9. Do you think Putraka showed strength or weakness of character in the way he received the travellers? 10. How do you think the king ought to have behaved to his father and uncles? CHAPTER VI The three wives very soon had good reason to wish their husbands had stayed away. Instead of being grateful for all Putraka's generosity, they were very unkind and exacting, never pleased with anything; and whatever they had given them, they were always trying to get more. In fact, they were silly as well as wicked; for they did not realize that this was not the way to make the king love them or wish to keep them with him. Presently they became jealous of Putraka, and began to wish to get rid of him. His father hated to feel that his son was king, whilst he was only one of that king's subjects; and he made up his mind to kill him, hoping that if he could only get rid of him he might rule over the country in his stead. He thought and thought how best to manage this, and did not at first mean to tell his brothers anything about it; but in the end he decided he had better have them on his side. So he invited them to go with him to a secret place to talk the matter over. 11. What qualities did Putraka's father show in this plot against his son? 12. Was there any other way in which the king's father could have gained a share in governing the land? CHAPTER VII After many meetings the three wicked men decided that they would pay some one to kill the king, first making the murderer they chose swear that he would never tell who had ordered him to do the terrible deed. It was not very difficult to find a man bad enough to take money for such an evil purpose, and the next thing to do was to decide where and when the deed was to be done. Putraka had been very well brought up by his mother, and he often went to a beautiful temple near his palace to pray alone. He would sometimes stop there a long time, winning fresh wisdom and strength to do the work he was trusted with, and praying not only for himself, but for his father, his mother, his aunts and uncles, and for the people he loved so much. The murderer was told to wait in this temple, and when the young king was absorbed in prayer, to fall suddenly upon him and kill him. Then, when Putraka was dead, he was to take his body and bury it far away in the depths of the forest where it could never be found. At first it seemed likely that this cruel plot would succeed. To make quite sure, the murderer got two other men as wicked as himself to come and help him, promising to give them a share in the reward. But the god who had taken care of Putraka ever since he was born, did not forget him now. As the young king prayed, forgetting everything in his earnest pleading for those he loved, he did not see or hear the evil men drawing stealthily close to him. Their arms were uplifted to slay him, and the gleam of the weapons in the light that was always kept burning flashed upon him, when suddenly the heavenly guardian of the temple, who never left it day or night, but was generally invisible, appeared and cast a spell upon the wicked men, whose hands were arrested in the very act to strike. What a wonderful sight that must have been, when Putraka, disturbed in his prayers, looked round and saw the men who had come to kill him, with the shadowy form of the guardian threatening them! He knew at once that he had been saved from a dreadful death by a messenger from the god he had been worshipping. As he gazed at the men, the guardian faded away and he was left alone with them. Slowly the spell cast on them was broken, and they dropped their weapons, prostrated themselves, and clasped their hands in an appeal for mercy to the man they had meant to destroy. Putraka looked at them quietly and sadly. He felt no anger against them, only a great thankfulness for his escape. He spoke to the men very sternly, asking them why they wished to harm him; and the chief murderer told him who had sent them. The knowledge that his father wished to kill him shocked and grieved the young long terribly, but he controlled himself even when he learnt the sad truth. He told the men that he forgave them, for they were not the most to blame; and he made them promise never to betray who had bribed them to kill him. He then gave them some money and told them to leave him. 13. What do you think the most beautiful incident in this account of the scene in the temple? 14. What do you suppose were the thoughts of the murderers when they left the temple after Putraka forgave them? CHAPTER VIII When Putraka was alone, he threw himself upon the ground and wept very bitterly. He felt that he could never be happy again, never trust anyone again. He had so loved his father and uncles. It had been such a joy to him to give them pleasure, and yet they hated him and wished to kill him. He wondered whether he was himself to blame for what had happened, and began to think he was not worthy to be king, if he could make such a mistake as he now feared he had made in being so generous to those who could have such hard thoughts of him as to want to take his life. Perhaps after all it would be better for his country to have another king. He did not feel as if he could go back to his palace and meet his father and uncles again. "What shall I do? What shall I do?" he cried, his sobs choking his voice. Never in all his life had he thought it possible to be so miserable as he was now. Everything seemed changed and he felt as if he were himself a different person. The only thing that comforted him at all was the thought of his mother, whose love had never failed him; but even that was spoiled by the remembrance that it was her husband who had wished to kill him. She must never know that, for it would break her heart: yet how could he keep it from her? Then the idea came to him that the best thing he could do would be to go away and never see his own people again. 15. What do you think was wrong in Putraka's way of looking at the past? 16. Was his idea of leaving his country and his people a sign of weakness or of strength? CHAPTER IX In the end the poor young king decided that he would go right away as his father and uncles had done; and his mind being made up, he became more cheerful and began to think he might meet with some interesting adventures in a new country, where nobody knew anything about him. As soon as it was light, he wandered off into the forest, feeling, it is true, very lonely, but at the same time taking a certain pleasure in being entirely his own master; which a king can never really be, because he has to consider so many other people and to keep so many rules. After all Putraka did not find the forest so very lonely; for he had not gone far in it before his sad thoughts were broken in upon by his coming suddenly to a little clearing, where the trees had been cut down and two strong-looking men were wrestling together, the king watched them for a little while, wondering what they were fighting about. Then he called out, "What are you doing here? What are you quarrelling about?" The men were greatly surprised to hear Putraka's voice, for they thought that they were quite alone. They stopped fighting for a minute or two, and one of them said: "We are fighting for three very precious things which were left behind him by our father." "What are those things?" asked Putraka. "A bowl, a stick and a pair of shoes," was the reply. "Whoever wins the fight will get them all. There they lie on the ground." "Well, I never!" cried the king, laughing as he looked at the things, which seemed to him worth very little. "I shouldn't trouble to fight about such trifles, if I were you." "Trifles!" exclaimed one of the men angrily. "You don't know what you are talking about. They are worth more than their weight in gold. Whoever gets the bowl will find plenty of food in it whenever he wants it; the owner of the stick has only to write his wishes on the ground with it and he will get them; and whoever puts on the shoes can fly through the air in them to any distance." 17. Which of these things would you rather have had? 18. What lesson do you learn from what the men said about the things on the ground? CHAPTER X When Putraka heard the wonders which, could be done with what he had thought not worth having, he determined to get possession of the three treasures for himself; not considering that it would he very wrong to take what did not belong to him. "It seems a pity to fight," he said, "why don't you race for the things, and let whichever wins the race have them? That banyan tree over there would make a good winning post and I will be the umpire." Instead of guessing what Putraka had in his mind, the brothers, who were very simple fellows, said at once: "All right. We won't fight, we'll race instead, and you can give us the start." Putraka agreed, and directly they were off he lost not a moment, but picked up the bowl and the staff, put on the shoes, and flew straight up into the air with the treasures. When the brothers came back, disputing about which of them had won, there was not a sign of Putraka, the bowl, the stick, or the shoes. They guessed at once what had happened; and after staring up in the air for a long time, they went home, feeling very much enraged with the man who had cheated them, and ashamed of having been so stupid as to trust him. 19. What do you think of Putraka's behaviour in this matter? 20. If you could have had one of the three things Putraka stole, which would you have chosen? CHAPTER XI On and on flew Putraka, full of eager delight in the new power of flight. How he loved rushing through the air, cleaving it like a bird on the wing! All he wanted to make him perfectly happy was someone to enjoy his new powers with him. Presently he found himself above a beautiful city with towers and pinnacles and minarets gleaming in the sunshine. "Ah!" he thought, "that is the place for me. I will go down there, and see if I can find a nice house to live in, and some people to make friends with, who will not try to kill me or to cheat me, but love me and be grateful to me for any kindness I show them." As Putraka was hovering in the air above the town to which he had taken such a fancy, he noticed a little house which rather pleased him; for though it was poor-looking, there was something cheerful and home-like about it. Down he sped and alighted at the door. Only one poor old woman lived in the house, and when Putraka knocked and asked if he might come in, she said "Yes" at once. He gave her some money, and told her he would like to live with her, if she would let him do so. She was only too glad to consent, for she was very lonely; and the two lived happily together for a long time. 21. Do you think that if Putraka had flown home on his wonderful shoes, taking his staff and bowl with him, his, father and uncles would still have tried to kill him? 22. How could Putraka have prevented them from doing him harm if he had returned to his home? CHAPTER XII The old woman grew very fond of Putraka, caring for him and waiting on him as if he had been her own son. She was so anxious that he should be happy that she became afraid he would become tired of living alone with her. So she said to him one day: "My dear adopted son, you ought to have a wife to keep you company. I know the very one for you, the only one really worthy of you. She is a princess, and her name is Patala. She is so very lovely that every man who sees her falls in love with her and wants to carry her off. So she is most carefully guarded in the top rooms of a great palace, as high as the summits of the loftiest mountains." When Putraka heard this he was all eagerness to see the princess, and at once determined to go forth to seek her. He was more than ever glad now that he had stolen the shoes, because he knew that they would carry him even to the top of the highest mountains. 23. What qualities did the old woman show when she told Putraka about the Princess? 24. What faults of character did the young king show when he decided at once to leave the old woman who had been so good to him? CHAPTER XIII The very evening of the day when Putraka heard about the princess, he started on his journey, taking with him his bowl and staff. The old woman gave him very careful instructions which way to go, and begged him to come back to tell her how he had got on. He promised he would, thanked her for all she had done for him, and flew away in a great state of excitement. She watched him till he was quite out of sight, and then went sadly into her lonely home, wondering if she would ever see him again. It was not long before Putraka came in sight of the palace. It was a beautiful night, and the moon was shining full upon the room in which the princess was asleep. It was a very big one, with costly furniture and priceless tapestry hung round the walls, and there were doors behind the tapestry leading to other apartments, in some of which the attendants on Patala slept, whilst others kept watch lest anyone should intrude upon their mistress. No one thought of guarding the windows, for they were so high up that only a bird could reach them. The young king alighted on the ledge of the window of the princess' room, and looked in. There, on a golden bed, amongst soft cushions and embroidered coverings, lay the most lovely creature he had ever beheld, so lovely that he fell in love with her at once and gave a loud cry of delight. This woke the princess, who started up and was about to scream out aloud in her terror at seeing a man looking in at the window, when Putraka with the aid of his magic staff made himself invisible. Then, thinking she had been dreaming, Patala lay down again, and the king began talking to her in a low voice, telling her he had heard of her beauty and had flown from far away to see her. He begged her to allow him to show himself to her, and added: "I will go away again directly afterwards if you wish it." Putraka's voice was so gentle, and it seemed to Patala so wonderful that a man could fly and make himself invisible, that she was full of curiosity to see him and find out all about him. So she gave her consent, and immediately afterwards the young king stood within the room, looking so noble and so handsome that she too fell in love at first sight. Putraka told her all about his life and adventures, which interested her very much. She was glad, she said, that he was a king; but she would have loved him just as well, whoever he might have been. After a long talk, Patala begged him to leave her for fear her attendants should discover him and tell her father about him. "My father would never let me marry you," she declared, "unless you were to come with many followers as a king to ask my hand; and how can you do that when you are only a wandering exile?" 25. Was there any reason to fear that Putraka would be discovered when he could make himself invisible at any moment? 26. What do you think would have been the right thing for Putraka and Patala to do when they found out that they loved each other? CHAPTER XIV It was very difficult to persuade Putraka to go, but at last he flew away. Every night after that, however, he came to see Patala, spending the days sometimes in one place, sometimes in another, and using his magic bowl to supply himself with food. Alas, he forgot all about the dear old woman to whom he owed all his happiness, and she slowly gave up hope of ever seeing him again. He might quite easily have flown to her cottage and cheered her with his presence; but he was so wrapped up in his love for Patala that everything else went out of his head. This selfishness on his part presently got him into serious trouble, for he became careless about making himself invisible when he flew up to the princess' window. So that one night he was discovered by a guardian of the palace. The matter was at once reported to the king, who could not at first believe such a thing was possible. The man must have seen a big bird, that was all. The king, however, ordered one of his daughter's ladies to keep watch every night in an ante-room, leaving the door open with the tapestry, in which there was a slit, drawn carefully over it, and to come and tell him in the morning if she had seen or heard anything unusual. Now the lady chosen loved the princess, and, like many of her fellow-attendants, thought it was very cruel of the king to punish his own child for being so beautiful, by shutting her up as he did. It so happened that the very first night she was on guard, Putraka had flown a very, very long way, not noticing where he was going, because he was thinking so earnestly of Patala. When at last he flew in at her window, he was so weary that he sank down on a couch and fell fast asleep. The princess too was tired, because she had lain awake talking to her lover so many nights running that she had had hardly any rest. So when the lady peeped through the slit in the tapestry, there, by the light of the night lamp, she saw the young king lying unconscious, whilst the princess also was asleep. Very cautiously the attendant crept to the side of Putraka, and took a long, long look at him. She noticed how handsome he was, and that he was dressed in beautiful clothes. She especially remarked the turban he wore, because in India the rank to which men belong is shown by the kind of turbans they wear. "This is no common man," she thought, "but a prince or king in disguise. What shall I do now? I will not raise an alarm which might lead to this beautiful young lover being killed and the heart of my dear mistress broken." 27. If you had been the lady who found Putraka in Patala's room, what would you have done? 28. What could Putraka have done to guard against being discovered? CHAPTER XV After hesitating a long time, the lady made up her mind that she would only put some mark in the turban of Putraka, so that he could be known again, and let him escape that night at least. So she stole back to her room, fetched a tiny, brooch, and fastened it in the folds of the turban, where the wearer was not likely to notice it himself. This done, she went back to listen at the door. It was nearly morning when Putraka woke up, very much surprised at finding himself lying on the couch, for he did not remember throwing himself down on it. Starting up, he woke Patala, who was terribly frightened, for she expected her ladies to come in any minute to help her to dress. She entreated Putraka to make himself invisible and fly away at once. He did so; and, as usual, wandered about until the time should come to go back to the palace. But he still felt too tired to fly, and instead walked about in the town belonging to Patala's father. The lady who had been on guard had half a mind to tell her mistress that her secret was discovered. But before she could get a chance to do so, she was sent for by the king, who asked her if she had seen or heard anything during the night. She tried very hard to escape from betraying Patala; but she hesitated so much in her answers that the king guessed there was something she wanted to hide, and told her, if she did not reveal the whole truth, he would have her head shaved and send her to prison. So she told how she had found a handsome man, beautifully dressed, fast asleep in Patala's room; but she did not believe her mistress knew anything about it, because she too was asleep. The king was of course in a terrible rage, and the lady was afraid he would order her to be punished; but he only went on questioning her angrily about what the man was like, so that he might be found and brought before him. Then the lady confessed that she had put the brooch in the turban, comforting herself with the thought that, when the king saw Putraka and knew that Patala loved him, he might perhaps relent and let them be married. When the king heard about the brooch, he was greatly pleased; and instead of ordering the lady to be punished, he told her that, when the man who had dared to approach his daughter was found, he would give her a great reward. He then sent forth hundreds of spies to hunt for the man with a brooch in his turban, and Putraka was very soon found, strolling quietly about in the market-place. He was so taken by surprise that, though he had his staff in his hand and his shoes and bowl in the pocket of his robes, he had no time to write his wishes with the staff, or to put on the shoes, so he was obliged to submit to be dragged to the palace. He did all he could to persuade those who had found him to let him go, telling them he was a king and would reward them well. They only laughed at him and dragged him along with them to the palace, where he was at once taken before the king, who was sitting on his throne, surrounded by his court, in a great hall lined with soldiers. The big windows were wide open; and noticing this, Putraka did not feel at all afraid, for he knew he had only to slip on his shoes and fly out of one of the windows, if he could not persuade the king to let him marry Patala. So he stood quietly at the foot of the throne, and looked bravely into the face of his dear one's father. This only made the king more angry, and he began calling Putraka all manner of names and asking him how he dared to enter the room of his daughter. Putraka answered quietly that he loved Patala and wished to marry her. He was himself a king, and would give her all she had been used to. But it was all no good, for it only made the king more angry. He rose from his throne, and stretching out his hand, he cried: "Let him be scourged and placed in close confinement!" Then Putraka with his staff wrote rapidly on the ground his wish that no one should be able to touch him, and stooping down slipped on his magic shoes. The king, the courtiers and the soldiers all remained exactly as they were, staring at him in astonishment, as he rose up in the air and flew out of one of the windows. Straight away he sped to the palace of Patala and into her room, where she was pacing to and fro in an agony of anxiety about him; for she had heard of his having been taken prisoner and feared that her father would order him to be killed. 29. What do you think would have been the best thing for the king to do when Putraka was brought before him? 30. If Putraka had not had his shoes with him, how could he have escaped from the king's palace? CHAPTER XVI Great indeed was the delight of Patala when her beloved Putraka once more flew in at her window; but she was still trembling with fear for him and begged him to go away back to his own land as quickly as possible. "I will not go without you," replied Putraka. "Wrap yourself up warmly, for it is cold flying through the air, and we will go away together, and your cruel father shall never see you again." Patala wept at hearing this, for it seemed terrible to her to have to choose between the father she loved and Putraka. But in the end her lover got his own way, and just as those who were seeking him were heard approaching, he seized his dear one in his arms and flew off with her. He did not return to his own land even then, but directed his course to the Ganges, the grand and beautiful river which the people of India love and worship, calling it their Mother Ganga. By the banks of the sacred stream the lovers rested, and with the aid of his magic bowl Putraka soon had a good and delicious meal ready, which they both enjoyed very much. As they ate, they consulted together what they had better do now, and Patala, who was as clever as she was beautiful, said: "Would it not be a good thing to build a new city in this lovely place? You could do it with your marvellous staff, could you not?" "Why, of course, I could," said Putraka laughing. "Why didn't I think of it myself?" Very soon a wonderful town rose up, which the young king wished to be as much as possible like the home he had left, only larger and fuller of fine buildings than it. When the town was made, he wished it to be full of happy inhabitants, with temples in which they might worship, priests to teach them how to be good, markets in which food and all that was needed could be bought, tanks and rivulets full of pure water, soldiers and officers to defend the gates, elephants on which he and his wife could ride, everything in fact that the heart of man or woman could desire. The first thing Putraka and Patala did after the rise of their own town, which they named Patali-Putra [1] after themselves, was to get married in accordance with the rites of their religion; and for many, many years they reigned wisely over their people, who loved them and their children with all their hearts. Amongst the attendants on those children was the old woman who had shown kindness to Putraka in his loneliness and trouble. For when he told Patala the story of his life, she reproached him for his neglect of one to whom he owed so much. She made him feel quite ashamed of himself, and he flew away and brought the dear old lady back with him, to her very great delight. 31. Which of the people in this story do you like best? 32. Do you think Putraka deserved all the happiness which came to him through stealing the wand, the shoes and the bowl? 33. Can you suggest any way in which he could have atoned for the wrong he did to the brothers whose property he took? 34. What is the chief lesson to be learnt from this story? STORY V The Jewelled Arrow. CHAPTER I In the city of Vardhamana in India there lived a powerful king named Vira-Bhuja, who, as was the custom in his native land, had many wives, each of whom had several sons. Of all his wives this king loved best the one named Guna-Vara, and of all his sons her youngest-born, called Sringa-Bhuja, was his favourite. Guna-Vara was not only very beautiful but very good. She was so patient that nothing could make her angry, so unselfish that she always thought of others before herself, and so wise that she was able to understand how others were feeling, however different their natures were from her own. Sringa-Bhuja, the son of Guna-Vara, resembled his mother in her beauty and her unselfishness; he was also very strong and very clever, whilst his brothers were quite unlike him. They wanted to have everything their own way, and they were very jealous indeed of their father's love for him. They were always trying to do him harm, and though they often quarrelled amongst themselves, they would band together to try and hurt him. It was very much the same with the king's wives. They hated Guna-Vara, because their husband loved her more than he did them, and they constantly came to him with stories they had made up of the wicked things she had done. Amongst other things they told the king that Guna-Vara did not really love him but cared more for some one else than she did for him. The most bitter of all against her was the wife called Ayasolekha, who was cunning enough to know what sort of tale the king was likely to believe. The very fact that Vira-Bhuja loved Guna-Vara so deeply made him more ready to think that perhaps after all she did not return his affection, and he longed to find out the truth. So he in his turn made up a story, thinking by its means to find out how she felt for him. He therefore went one day to her private apartments, and having sent all her attendants away, he told her he had some very sad news for her which he had heard from his chief astrologer. Astrologers, you know, are wise men, who are supposed to be able to read the secrets of the stars, and learn from them things which are hidden from ordinary human beings. Guna-Vara therefore did not doubt that what her husband was about to tell her was true, and she listened eagerly, her heart beating very fast in her fear that some trouble was coming to those she loved. Great indeed was her sorrow and surprise, when Vira-Bhuja went on to say that the astrologer had told him that a terrible misfortune threatened him and his kingdom and the only way to prevent it was to shut Guna-Vara up in prison for the rest of her life. The poor queen could hardly believe that she had heard rightly. She knew she had done no wrong, and could not understand how putting her in prison could help anybody. She was quite sure that her husband loved her, and no words could have expressed her pain at the thought of being sent away from him and her dear son. Yet she made no resistance, not even asking Vira-Bhuja to let her see Sringa-Bhuja again. She just bowed her beautiful head and said: "Be it unto me as my Lord wills. If he wishes my death, I am ready to lay down my life." This submission made the king feel even more unhappy than before. He longed to take his wife in his arms and tell her he would never let her go; and perhaps if she had looked at him then, he would have seen all her love for him in her eyes, but she remained perfectly still with bowed head, waiting to hear what her fate was to be. Then the thought entered Vira-Bhuja's mind: "She is afraid to look at me: what Ayasolekha said was true." 1. Can true love suspect the loved one of evil? 2. Is true love ever jealous? CHAPTER II So the king summoned his guards and ordered them to take his wife to a strong prison and leave her there. She went with them without making any resistance, only turning once to look lovingly at her husband as she was led away. Vira-Bhuja returned to his own palace and had not been there very long when he got a message from Ayasolekha, begging him to give her an interview, for she had something of very great importance to tell him. The king consented at once, thinking to himself, "perhaps she has found out that what she told me about my dear Guna-Vara is not true." Great then was his disappointment when the wicked woman told him she had discovered a plot against his life. The son of Guna-Vara and some of the chief men of the kingdom, she said, had agreed together to kill him, so that Sringa-Bhuja might reign in his stead. She and some of the other wives had overheard conversations between them, and were terrified lest their beloved Lord should be hurt. The young prince, she declared, had had some trouble in persuading the nobles to help him, but he had succeeded at last. Vira-Bhuja simply could not believe this story, for he trusted his son as much as he loved him; and he sent the mischief maker away, telling her not to dare to enter his presence again. For all that he could not get the matter out of his head. He had Sringa-Bhuja carefully watched; and as nothing against him was found out, he was beginning to feel more easy in his mind, and even to think of going to see Guna-Vara in her prison to ask her to confide in him, when something happened which led him to fear that after all his dear son was not true to him. This was what made him uneasy. He had a wonderful arrow, set with precious jewels, which had been given to him by a magician, and had the power of hitting without fail whatever it was aimed at from however great a distance. The very day he had meant to visit his ill-treated wife, he missed this arrow from the place in which he kept it concealed. This distressed him very much; and after seeking it in vain, he summoned all those who were employed in the palace to his presence, and asked if any of them knew anything about the arrow. He promised that he would forgive any one who helped him to get it back, even if it were the thief himself; but added that, if it was not found in three days, he would have all the servants beaten until the one who had stolen it confessed. 3. Do you think this was the best way to find out who had taken the arrow? 4. How would you have set about learning the truth if you had been the king? CHAPTER III Now the fact of the matter was that Ayasolekha, who had told the wicked story about Guna-Vara, knew where the king kept the arrow, had taken it to her private rooms, and had sent for her own sons and those of the other wives, all of whom hated Sringa-Bhuja, to tell them of a plot to get their brother into disgrace, "You know," she said to them, "how much better your father loves Sringa-Bhuja than he does any of you; and that, when be dies, he will leave the kingdom and all his money to him. Now I will help you to prevent this by getting rid of Sringa-Bhuja. "You must have a great shooting match, in which your brother will be delighted to take part, for he is very proud of his skill with the bow and arrow. On the day of the match, I will send for him and give him the jewelled arrow belonging to your father to shoot with, telling him the king had said I might lend it to him. Your father will then think he stole it and order him to be killed." The brothers were all delighted at what they thought a very clever scheme, and did just what Ayasolekha advised. When the day came, great crowds assembled to see the shooting at a large target set up near the palace. The king himself and all his court were watching the scene from the walls, and it was difficult for the guards to keep the course clear. The brothers, beginning at the eldest, all pretended to try and hit the target; but none of them really wished to succeed, because they thought that, when Sringa-Bhuja's turn came, as their father's youngest son, he would win the match with the jewelled arrow. Then the king would order him to be brought before him, and he would be condemned to death or imprisonment for life. Now, as very often happens, something no one in the least expected upset the carefully planned plot. Just as Sringa-Bhuja was about to shoot at the target, a big crane flew on to the ground between him and it, so that it was impossible for him to take proper aim. The brothers, seeing the bird and anxious to shoot it for themselves, all began to clamour that they should be allowed to shoot again. Nobody made any objection, and Sringa-Bhuja stood aside, with the jewelled arrow in the bow, waiting to see what they would do, but feeling sure that he would be the one to kill the bird. Brother after brother tried, but the great creature still remained untouched, when a travelling mendicant stepped forward and cried aloud: "That is no bird, but an evil magician who has taken that form to deceive you all. If he is not killed before he takes his own form again, he will bring misery and ruin upon this town and the surrounding country." You know perhaps that mendicants or beggars in India are often holy men whose advice even kings are glad to listen to; so that, when everyone heard what this beggar said, there was great excitement and terror. For many were the stories told of the misfortunes Rakshas or evil magicians had brought on other cities. The brothers all wanted to try their luck once more, but the beggar checked them, saying: "No, no. Where is your youngest brother Sringa-Bhuja? He alone will be able to save your homes, your wives and your children, from destruction," Then Sringa-Bhuja came forward; and as the sun flashed upon the jewels in the stolen arrow, revealing to the watching king that it was his own beloved son who had taken it, the young prince let it fly straight for the bird. It wounded but did not kill the crane, which flew off with the arrow sticking in its breast, the blood dripping from it in its flight, which became gradually slower and slower. At the sight of the bird going off with the precious jewelled arrow, the king was filled with rage, and sent orders that Sringa-Bhuja should be fetched to his presence immediately. But before the messengers reached him, he had started in pursuit of the bird, guided by the blood-drops on the ground. 5. Did the brothers show wisdom in the plot they laid against their brother? 6. What do you think from this story, so far as you have read it, were the chief qualities of Sringa-Bhuja? CHAPTER IV As Sringa-Bhuja sped along after the crane, the beggar made some strange signs in the air with the staff he used to help him along; and such clouds of dust arose that no one could see in which direction the young prince had gone. The brothers and Ayasolekha were very much dismayed at the way things had turned out, and greatly feared that the king's anger would vent itself on them, now that Sringa-Bhuja had disappeared. Vira-Bhuja did send for them, and asked them many questions; but they all kept the secret of how Sringa-Bhuja had got the arrow, and promised to do all they could to help to get it back. Again the king thought he would go and see the mother of his dear youngest son; but again something held him back, and poor Guna-Vara was left alone, no one ever going near her except the gaoler who took her her daily food. After trying everything possible to find out where Sringa-Bhuja had gone, the king began to show special favour to another of his sons; and as the months passed by, it seemed as if the young prince and the jewelled arrow were both forgotten. Meanwhile Sringa-Bhuja travelled on and on in the track of the drops of blood, till he came to the outskirts of a fine forest, through which many beaten paths led to a very great city. He sat down to rest at the foot of a wide-spreading tree, and was gazing up at the towers and pinnacles of the town, rising far upwards towards the sky, when he had a feeling that he was no longer alone. He was right: for, coming slowly along one of the paths, was a lovely young girl, singing softly to herself in a beautiful voice. Her eyes were like those of a young doe, and her features were perfect in their form and expression, reminding Sringa-Bhuja of his mother, whom he was beginning to fear he would never see again. When the young girl was quite close to him, he startled her by saying, "Can you tell me what is the name of this city?" "Of course, I can," she replied, "for I live in it. It is called Dhuma-Pura, and it belongs to my father: he is a great magician named Agni-Sikha, who loves not strangers. Now tell me who you are and whence you come?" Then Sringa-Bhuja told the maiden all about himself, and why he was wandering so far from home. The girl, whose name was Rupa-Sikha, listened very attentively; and when he came to the shooting of the crane, and how he had followed the bleeding bird in the hope of getting back his father's jewelled arrow, she began to tremble. "Alas, alas!" she said. "The bird you shot was my father, who can take any form he chooses. He returned home but yesterday, and I drew the arrow from his wound and dressed the hurt myself. He gave me the jewelled arrow to keep, and I will never part with it. As for you, the sooner you depart the better; for my father never forgives, and he is so powerful that you would have no chance of escape if he knew you were here." Hearing this, Sringa-Bhuja became very sad, not because he was afraid of Agni-Sikha, but because he knew that he already loved the fair maiden who stood beside him, and was resolved to make her his wife. She too felt drawn towards him and did not like to think of his going away. Besides this, she had much to fear from her father, who was as cruel as he was mighty, and had caused the death already of many lovers who had wished to marry her. She had never cared for any of them, and had been content to live without a husband, spending her life in wandering about near her home and winning the love of all who lived near her, even that of the wild creatures of the forest, who would none of them dream of hurting her. Often and often she stood between the wrath of her father and those he wished to injure; for, wicked as he was, he loved her and wanted her to be happy, 7. Do you think that a really wicked man is able to love any one truly? 8. What would have been the best thing for Sringa-Bhuja to do, when he found out who the bird he had shot really was? CHAPTER V Rupa-Sikha did not take long to decide what was best for her to do. She said to the prince, "I will give you back your golden arrow, and you must make all possible haste out of our country before my father discovers you are here." "No! no! no! a thousand times no!" cried the prince. "Now I have once seen you, I can never, never leave you. Can you not learn to love me and be my wife?" Then he fell prostrate at her feet, and looked up into her face so lovingly that she could not resist him. She bent down towards him, and the next moment they were clasped in each other's arms, quite forgetting all the dangers that threatened them. Rupa-Sikha was the first to remember her father, and drawing herself away from her lover, she said to him: "Listen to me, and I will tell you what we must do. My father is a magician, it is true, but I am his daughter, and I inherit some of his powers. If only you will promise to do exactly as I tell you, I think I may be able to save you, and perhaps even become your wife. I am the youngest of a large family and my father's favourite. I will go and tell him that a great and mighty prince, hearing of his wonderful gifts, has come to our land to ask for an interview with him. Then I will tell him that I have seen you, fallen in love with you, and want to marry you. He will be flattered to think his fame has spread so far, and will want to see you, even if he refuses to let me be your wife. I will lead you to his presence and leave you with him alone. If you really love me, you will find the way to win his consent; but you must keep out of his sight till I have prepared the way for you. Come with me now, and I will show you a hiding-place." Rupa-Sikha then led the prince far away into the depths of the forest, and showed him a large tree, the wide-spreading branches of which touched the ground, completely hiding the trunk, in which there was an opening large enough for a man to pass through. Steps cut in the inside of the trunk led down to a wide space underground; and there the magician's daughter told her lover to wait for her return. "Before I go," she said, "I will tell you my own password, which will save you from death if you should be discovered. It is LOTUS FLOWER; and everyone to whom you say it, will know that you are under my protection." When Rupa-Sikha reached the palace she found her father in a very bad humour, because she had not been to ask how the wound in his breast was getting on. She did her best to make up for her neglect; and when she had dressed the wound very carefully, she prepared a dainty meal for her father with her own hands, waiting upon him herself whilst he ate it. All this pleased him, and he was in quite an amiable mood when she said to him: "Now I must tell you that I too have had an adventure. As I was gathering herbs in the forest, I met a man I had never seen before, a tall handsome young fellow looking like a prince, who told me he was seeking the palace of a great and wonderful magician, of whose marvellous deeds he had heard. Who could that magician have been but you, my father?" She added, "I told him I was your daughter, and he entreated me to ask you to grant him an interview." Agni-Sikha listened to all this without answering a word. He was pleased at this fresh proof that his fame had spread far and wide; but he guessed at once that Rupa-Sikha had not told him the whole truth. He waited for her to go on, and as she said no more, he suddenly turned angrily upon her and in a loud voice asked her: "And what did my daughter answer?" Then Rupa-Sikha knew that her secret had been discovered. And rising to her full height, she answered proudly, "I told him I would seek you and ask you to receive him. And now I will tell you, my father, that I have seen the only man I will ever marry; and if you forbid me to do so, I will take my own life, for I cannot live without him." "Send for the man immediately," cried the magician, "and you shall hear my answer when he appears before me." "I cannot send," replied Rupa-Sikha, "for none knows where I have left him; nor will I fetch him till you promise that no evil shall befall him." At first Agni-Sikha laughed aloud and declared that he would do no such thing. But his daughter was as obstinate as he was; and finding that he could not get his own way unless he yielded to her, he said crossly: "He shall keep his fine head on his shoulders, and leave the palace alive; but that is all I will say." "But that is not enough," said Rupa-Sikha. "Say after me, Not a hair of his head shall be harmed, and I will treat him as an honoured guest, or your eyes will never rest on him." At last the magician promised, thinking to himself that he would find some way of disposing of Sringa-Bhuja, if he did not fancy him for a son-in-law. The words she wanted to hear were hardly out of her father's mouth before Rupa-Sikha sped away, as if on the wings of the wind, full of hope that all would be well. She found her lover anxiously awaiting her, and quickly explained how matters stood. "You had better say nothing about me to my father at first," she said; "but only talk about him and all you have heard of him. If only you could get him to like you and want to keep you with him, it would help us very much. Then you could pretend that you must go back to your own land; and rather than allow you to do so, he will be anxious for us to be married and to live here with him." 9. Do you think the advice Rupa-Sikha gave to Sringa-Bhuja was good? 10. Can you suggest anything else she might have done? CHAPTER VI Sringa-Bhuja loved Rupa-Sikha so much that he was ready to obey her in whatever she asked. So he at once went with her to the palace. On every side he saw signs of the strength and power of the magician. Each gate was guarded by tall soldiers in shining armour, who saluted Rupa-Sikha but scowled fiercely at him. He knew full well that, if he had tried to pass alone, they would have prevented him from doing so. At last the two came to the great hall, where the magician was walking backwards and forwards, working himself into a rage at being kept waiting. Directly he looked at the prince, he knew him for the man who had shot the jewelled arrow at him when he had taken the form of a crane, and he determined that he would be revenged. He was too cunning to let Sringa-Bhuja guess that he knew him, and pretended to be very glad to see him. He even went so far as to say that he had long wished to find a prince worthy to wed his youngest and favourite daughter. "You," he added, "seem to me the very man, young, handsome and--to judge from the richness of your dress and jewels--able to give my beloved one all she needs." The prince could hardly believe his ears, and Rupa-Sikha also was very much surprised. She guessed however that her father had some evil purpose in what he said, and looked earnestly at Sringa-Bhuja in the hope of making him understand. But the prince was so overjoyed at the thought that she was to be his wife that he noticed nothing. So when Agni-Sikha added, "I only make one condition: you must promise that you will never disobey my commands, but do whatever I tell you without a moment's hesitation," Sringa-Bhuja, without waiting to think, said at once, "Only give me your daughter and I will serve you in any way you wish." "That's settled then!" cried the magician, and he clapped his hands together. In a moment a number of attendants appeared, and their master ordered them to lead the prince to the best apartments in the palace, to prepare a bath for him, and do everything he asked them. 11. What great mistake did the prince make when he gave this promise? 12. What answer should he have made? CHAPTER VII As Sringa-Bhuja followed the servants, Rupa-Sikha managed to whisper to him, "Beware! await a message from me!" When he had bathed and was arraying himself in fresh garments provided by his host, waited on, hand and foot, by servants who treated him with the greatest respect, a messenger arrived, bearing a sealed letter which he reverently handed to the prince. Sringa-Bhuja guessed at once from whom it came; and anxious to read it alone, he hastily finished his toilette and dismissed the attendants. "My beloved," said the letter--which was, of course, from Rupa-Sikha--"My father is plotting against you; and very foolish were you to promise you would obey him in all things. I have ten sisters all exactly like me, all wearing dresses and necklaces which are exact copies of each other, so that few can tell me from the others, Soon you will be sent for to the great Hall and we shall all be together there. My father will bid you choose your bride from amongst us; and if you make a mistake all will be over for us. But I will wear my necklace on my head instead of round my neck, and thus will you know your own true love. And remember, my dearest, to obey no future command without hearing from me, for I alone am able to outwit my terrible father," Everything happened exactly as Rupa-Sikha described. The prince was sent for by Agni-Sikha, who, as soon as he appeared, gave him a garland of flowers and told him to place it round the neck of the maiden who was his promised bride. Without a moment's hesitation Sringa-Bhuja picked out the right sister; and the magician, though inwardly enraged, pretended to be so delighted at this proof of a lover's clear-sightedness that he cried: "You are the son-in-law for me! The wedding shall take place to-morrow!" 13. Can you understand how it was that the magician did not notice the trick Rupa-Sikha had played upon him? 14. What fault blinds people to the truth more than any other? CHAPTER VIII When Sringa-Bhuja heard what Agni-Sikha said, he was full of joy; but Rupa-Sikha knew well that her father did not mean a word of it. She waited quietly beside her lover, till the magician bade all the sisters but herself leave the hall. Then the magician, with a very wicked look on his face, said: "Before the ceremony there is just one little thing you must do for me, dear son-in-law that is to be. Go outside the town, and near the most westerly tower you will find a team of oxen and a plough awaiting you. Close to them is a pile of three hundred bushels of sesame seed. This you must sow this very day, or instead of a bridegroom you will be a dead man to-morrow." Great was the dismay of Sringa-Bhuja when he heard this. But Rupa-Sikha whispered to him, "Fear not, for I will help you." Sadly the prince left the palace alone, to seek the field outside the city; the guards, who knew he was the accepted lover of their favourite mistress, letting him pass unhindered. There, sure enough, near the western tower were the oxen, the plough and a great pile of seed. Never before had poor Sringa-Bhuja had to work for himself, but his great love for Rupa-Sikha made him determine to do his best. So he was about to begin to guide the oxen across the field, when, behold, all was suddenly changed. Instead of an unploughed tract of land, covered with weeds, was a field with rows and rows of regular furrows. The piles of seed were gone, and flocks of birds were gathering in the hope of securing some of it as it lay in the furrows. As Sringa-Bhuja was staring in amazement at this beautiful scene, he saw Rupa-Sikha, looking more lovely than ever, coming towards him. "Not in vain," she said to him, "am I my father's daughter. I too know how to compel even nature to do my will; but the danger is not over yet. Go quickly back to the palace, and tell Agni-Sikha that his wishes are fulfilled." 15. Can the laws of nature ever really be broken? 16. What is the only way in which man can conquer nature? CHAPTER IX The magician was very angry indeed when he heard that the field was ploughed and the seed sown. He knew at once that some magic had been at work, and suspected that Rupa-Sikha was the cause of his disappointment. Without a moment's hesitation he said to the prince: "No sooner were you gone than I decided not to have that seed sown. Go back at once, and pile it up where it was before." This time Sringa-Bhuja felt no fear or hesitation, for he was sure of the power and will to help him of his promised bride. So back he went to the field, and there he found the whole vast space covered with millions and millions of ants, busily collecting the seed and piling it up against the wall of the town. Again Rupa-Sikha came to cheer him, and again she warned him that their trials were not yet over. She feared, she said, that her father might prove stronger than herself; for he had many allies at neighbouring courts ready to help him in his evil purposes. "Whatever else he orders you to do, you must see me before you leave the palace. I will send my faithful messenger to appoint a meeting in some secret place." Agni-Sikha was not much surprised when the prince told him that his last order had been obeyed, and thought to himself, "I must get this tiresome fellow out of my domain, where that too clever child of mine will not be able to help him." "Well," he said, "I suppose the wedding must take place to-morrow after all, for I am a man of my word. We must now set about inviting the guests. You shall have the pleasure of doing this yourself: then my friends will know beforehand what a handsome young son-in-law I shall have. The first person to summon to the wedding is my brother Dhuma Sikha, who has taken up his abode in a deserted temple a few miles from here. You must ride at once to that temple, rein up your steed opposite it, and cry, 'Dhuma Sikha, your brother Agni-Sikha has sent me hither to invite you to witness my marriage with his daughter Rupa-Sikha to-morrow. Come without delay!' Your message given, ride back to me; and I will tell you what farther tasks you must perform before the happy morrow dawns." When Sringa-Bhuja left the palace, he knew not where to seek a horse to bear him on this new errand. But as he was nearing the gateway by which he had gone forth to sow the field with seed, a handsome boy approached him and said, "If my lord will follow me, I will tell him what to do." Somehow the voice sounded familiar; and when the guards were left far enough behind to be out of hearing, the boy looked up at Sringa-Bhuja with a smile that revealed Rupa-Sikha herself. "Come with me," she said; and taking his hand, she led him to a tree beneath which stood a noble horse, richly caparisoned, which pawed the ground and whinnied to its mistress, as she drew near. "You must ride this horse," said Rupa-Sikha, "who will obey you if you but whisper in his ear; and you must take earth, water, wood and fire with you, which I will give you. You must go straight to the temple, and when you have called out your message, turn without a moment's delay, and ride for your life as swiftly as your steed will go, looking behind you all the time. No guidance will be necessary; for Marut--that is my horse's name--knows well what he has to do." Then Rupa-Sikha gave Sringa-Bhuja a bowl of earth, a jar of water, a bundle of thorns and a brazier full of burning charcoal, hanging them by strong thongs upon the front of his saddle so that he could reach them easily. "My father," she told him, "has given my uncle instructions to kill you, and he will follow you upon his swift Arab steed. When you hear him behind you, fling earth in his path; if that does not stop him, pour out some of the water; and if he still perseveres, scatter the burning charcoal before him." 17. Can you discover any hidden meaning in the use of earth, water, thorns and fire, to stop the course of the wicked magician? 18. Do you think the prince loved Rupa-Sikha better than he loved himself? CHAPTER X Away went the prince after he had received these instructions; and very soon he found himself opposite the temple, with the images of three of the gods worshipped in India to prove that it had been a sanctuary before the magician took up his abode in it. Directly Sringa-Bhuja shouted out his message to Dhuma-Sikha, the wicked dweller in the temple came rushing forth from the gateway, mounted on a huge horse, which seemed to be belching forth flames from its nostrils as it bounded along. For one terrible moment Sringa-Bhuja feared that he was lost; but Marut, putting forth all his strength, kept a little in advance of the enemy, giving the prince time to scatter earth behind him. Immediately a great mountain rose up, barring the road, and Sringa-Bhuja felt that he was saved. He was mistaken: for, as he looked back, he saw Dhuma-Sikha coming over the top of the mountain. The next moment the magician was close upon him. So he emptied his bowl of water: and, behold, a huge river with great waves hid pursuer and pursued from each other. Even this did not stop the mighty Arab horse, which swam rapidly across, the rider loudly shouting out orders to the prince to stop. When the prince heard the hoofs striking on the dry ground behind him again, he threw out the thorns, and a dense wood sprouted up as if by magic, which for a few moments gave fresh hope of safety to Sringa-Bhuja; for it seemed as if even the powerful magician would be unable to get through it. He did succeed however; but his clothes were nearly torn off his back, and his horse was bleeding from many wounds made by the cruel thorns. Sringa-Bhuja too was getting weary, and remembered that he had only one more chance of checking his relentless enemy. He could almost feel the breath of the panting steed as it drew near; and with a loud cry to his beloved Rupa-Sikha, he threw the burning charcoal on the road. In an instant the grass by the wayside, the trees overshadowing it, and the magic wood which had sprung from the thorns, were alight, burning so fiercely that no living thing could approach them safely. The wicked magician was beaten at last, and was soon himself fleeing away, as fast as he could, with the flames following after him as if they were eager to consume him. Whether his enemy ever got back to his temple, Sringa-Bhuja never knew. Exhausted with all he had been through, the young prince was taken back to the palace by the faithful Marut, and there he found his dear Rupa-Sikha awaiting him. She told him that her father had promised her that, if the prince came back, he would oppose her marriage no longer. "For," he said, "if he can escape your uncle, he must be more than mortal, and worthy even of my daughter." "He does not in the least expect to see you again," added Rupa-Sikha; "and even if he allows us to marry, he will never cease to hate you; for I am quite sure he knows that you shot the jewelled arrow at him when he was in the form of a crane. If I ever am your wife, he will try to punish you through me. But have no fear: I shall know how to manage him. Fresh powers have been lately given to me by another uncle whose magic is stronger than that of any of my other relations." When Sringa-Bhuja had bathed and rested, he robed himself once more in the garments he had worn the day he first saw Rupa-Sikha; and together the lovers went to the great hall to seek an interview with Agni-Sikha. The magician, who had made quite sure that he had now got rid of the unwelcome suitor for his daughter's hand, could not contain his rage, at seeing him walk in with her as if the two were already wedded. He stamped about, pouring out abuse, until he had quite exhausted himself, the lovers looking on quietly without speaking. At last, coming close to them, Agni-Sikha shouted, in a loud harsh voice: "So you have not obeyed my orders. You have not bid my brother to the wedding. Your life is forfeit, and you will die to-morrow instead of marrying Rupa-Sikha. Describe the temple in which Dhuma Sikha lives and the appearance of its owner." Then Sringa-Bhuja gave such an exact account of the temple, naming the gods whose images still adorned it, and of the terrible man riding the noble steed who had pursued him, that the magician was convinced against his will; and knowing that he must keep his word to Rupa-Sikha, he gave his consent for the preparations for the marriage on the morrow to begin. 19. What is your opinion of the character of Agni-Sikha? 20. Do you think he was at all justified in the way in which he treated his daughter and Sringa-Bhuja? CHAPTER XI The marriage was celebrated the next day with very great pomp; and a beautiful suite of rooms was given to the bride and bridegroom, who could not in spite of this feel safe or happy, because they knew full well that Agni-Sikha hated them. The prince soon began to feel home-sick and anxious to introduce his beautiful wife to his own people. He remembered that he had left his dear mother in prison, and reproached himself for having forgotten her for so long. So he said to Rupa-Sikha: "Let us go, beloved, to my native city, Vardhamana. My heart yearns after my dear ones there, and I would fain introduce you to them." "My lord," replied Rupa-Sikha, "I will go with you whither you will, were it even to the ends of the earth. But we must not let my father guess we mean to go; for he would forbid us to leave the country and set spies to watch our every movement. We will steal away secretly, riding together on my faithful Marut and taking with us only what we can carry." "And my jewelled arrow," said the prince, "that I may give it back to my father and explain to him how I lost it. Then shall I be restored to his favour, and maybe he will forgive my mother also." "Have no fear," answered Rupa-Sikha: "all will surely go well with us. Forget not that new powers have been given to me, which will save us from my father and aid me to rescue my dear one's mother from her evil fate." Before the dawn broke on the next day, the two set forth unattended, Marut seeming to take pride in his double burden and bearing them along so swiftly that they had all but reached the bounds of the country under the dominion of Agni-Sikha as the sun rose. Just as they thought they were safe from pursuit, they heard a loud rushing noise behind; and looking round, they saw the father of the bride close upon them on his Arab steed, with sword uplifted in his hand to strike. "Fear not," whispered Rupa-Sikha to her husband. "I will show you now what I can do." And waving her arms to and fro, as she muttered some strange words, she changed herself into an old woman and Sringa-Bhuja into an old man, whilst Marut became a great pile of wood by the road-side. When the angry father reached the spot, the bride and bridegroom were busily gathering sticks to add to the pile, seemingly too absorbed in their work to take any notice of the angry magician, who shouted out to them: "Have you seen a man and a woman pass along this way?" The old woman straightened herself, and peering, up into his face, said: "No; we are too busy over our work to notice anything else." "And what, pray, are you doing in my wood?" asked Agni-Sikha. "We are helping to collect the fuel for the pyre of the great magician Agni-Sikha." answered Rupa-Sikha. "Do you not know that he died yesterday?" The Hindus of India do not bury but burn the dead; so that it was quite a natural thing for the people of the land over which the magician ruled to collect the materials for the pyre or heap of wood on which his body would be laid to be burnt. What surprised Agni-Sikha, and in fact nearly took his breath away, was to be quietly told that he was dead. He began to think that he was dreaming, and said to himself, "I cannot really be dead without knowing it, so I must be asleep." And he quietly turned his horse round and rode slowly home again. This was just what his daughter wanted; and as soon as he was out of sight, she turned herself, her husband and Marut, into their natural forms again, laughing merrily, as she did so, at the thought of the ease with which she had got rid of her father. 21. Do you think it was clever of Rupa-Sikha to make up this story? 22. Do you think it is better to believe all that you are told or to be more ready to doubt when anything you hear seems to be unusual? CHAPTER XII Once more the bride and bridegroom set forth on their way, and once more they soon heard Agni-Sikha coming after them. For when he got back to his palace, and the servants hastened out to take his horse, he guessed that a trick had been played on him. He did not even dismount, but just turned his horse's head round and galloped back again. "If ever," he thought to himself, "I catch those two young people, I'll make them wish they had obeyed me. Yes, they shall suffer for it. I am not going to stand being defied like this." This time Rupa-Sikha contented herself with making her husband and Marut invisible, whilst she changed herself into a letter-carrier, hurrying along the road as if not a moment was to be lost. She took no notice of her father, till he reined up his steed and shouted to her: "Have you seen a man and woman on horseback pass by?" "No, indeed," she said: "I have a very important letter to deliver, and could think of nothing but making all the haste possible." "And what is this important letter about?" asked Agni-Sikha. "Can you tell me that?" "Oh, yes, I can tell you that," she said. "But where can you have been, not to have heard the terrible news about the ruler of this land?" "You can't tell me anything I don't know about him," answered the magician, "for he is my greatest friend." "Then you know that he is dying from a wound he got in a battle with his enemies only yesterday. I am to take this letter to his brother Dhuma-Sikha, bidding him come to see him before the end." Again Agni-Sikha wondered if he were dreaming, or if he were under some strange spell and did not really know who he was? Being able, as he was, to cast spells on other people, he was ready to fancy the same thing had befallen him. He said nothing when he heard that he was wounded, and was about to turn back again when Rupa-Sikha said to him: "As you are on horseback and can get to Dhuma-Sikha's temple quicker than I can, will you carry the message of his brother's approaching death to him for me, and bid him make all possible haste if he would see him alive?" This was altogether too much for the magician, who became sure that there was something very wrong about him. He knew he was not wounded or dying, but he thought he must be ill of fever, fancying he heard what he did not. He stared fixedly at his daughter, and she stared up at him, half-afraid he might find out who she was, but he never guessed. "Do your own errands," he said at last; and slashing his poor innocent horse with his whip, he wheeled round and dashed home again as fast as he could. Again his servants ran out to receive him, and he gloomily dismounted, telling them to send his chief councillor to him in his private apartments. Shut up with him, he poured out all his troubles, and the councillor advised him to see his physician without any delay, for he felt sure that these strange fancies were caused by illness. The doctor, when he came, was very much puzzled, but he looked as wise as he could, ordered perfect rest and all manner of disagreeable medicines. He was very much surprised at the change he noticed in his patient, who, instead of angrily declaring that there was nothing the matter with him, was evidently in a great fright about his health. He shut himself up for many days, and it was a long time before he got over the shock he had received, and then it was too late for him to be revenged or the lovers. 23. Can you explain what casting a spell means? 24. Can you give an instance of a spell being cast on any one you have heard of? CHAPTER XIII Having really got rid of Agni-Sikha, Rupa-Sikha and her husband were very soon out of his reach and in the country belonging to Sringa-Bhuja's father, who had bitterly mourned the loss of his favourite son. When the news was brought to him that two strangers, a handsome young man and a beautiful woman, who appeared to be husband and wife, had entered his capital, he hastened forth to meet them, hoping that perhaps they could give him news of Sringa-Bhuja. What was his joy when he recognised his dear son, holding the jewelled arrow, which had led him into such trouble, in his right hand, as he guided Marat with his left! The king flung himself from his horse, and Sringa-Bhuja, giving the reins to Rupa-Sikha, also dismounted. The next moment he was in his father's arms, everything forgotten and forgiven in the happy reunion. Great was the rejoicing over Sringa-Bhuja's return and hearty was the welcome given to his beautiful bride, who quickly won all hearts but those of the wicked wives and sons who had tried to harm her husband and his mother. They feared the anger of the king, when he found out how they had deceived him, and they were right to fear. Sringa-Bhuja's very first act was to plead for his mother to be set free. He would not tell any of his adventures, he said, till she could hear them too; and the king, full of remorse for the way he had treated her, went with him to the prison in which she had been shut up all this time. What was poor Guna-Vara's joy, when the two entered the place in which she had shed so many tears! She could not at first believe her eyes or ears, but soon she realised that her sufferings were indeed over. She could not be quite happy till her beloved husband said he knew she had never loved any one but him. She had been accused falsely, she said, and she wanted the woman who had told a lie about her to be made to own the truth. This was done in the presence of the whole court, and when judgment had been passed upon Ayasolekha, the brothers of Sringa-Bhuja were also brought before their father, who charged them with having deceived him. They too were condemned, and all the culprits would have been taken to prison and shut up for the rest of their lives, if those they had injured had not pleaded for their forgiveness. Guna-Vara and her son prostrated themselves at the foot of the throne, and would not rise till they had won pardon for their enemies. Ayasolekha and the brothers were allowed to go free; but Sringa-Bhuja, though he was the youngest of all the princes, was proclaimed heir to the crown after his father's death. His brothers, however, never ceased to hate him; and when he came to the throne, they gave him a great deal of trouble. He had many years of happiness with his wife and parents before that, and never regretted the mistake about the jewelled arrow; since but for it he would, he knew, never have seen his beloved Rupa-Sikha. 25. What is the chief lesson to be learnt from this story? 26. Do yon think it was good for those who had told lies about Guna-Vara and her son to be forgiven so easily? 27. Can you give any instances of good coming out of evil and of evil coming out of what seemed good? 28. Do you think Rupa-Sikha deserved all the happiness that came to her? STORY VI The Beetle and the Silken Thread. [2] CHAPTER I The strange adventures related in the story of the Beetle and the Silken Thread took place in the town of Allahabad, "the City of God," so called because it is situated near the point of meeting of the two sacred rivers of India, the Ganges, which the Hindus lovingly call Mother Ganga because they believe its waters can wash away their sins, and the Jumna, which they consider scarcely less holy. The ruler of Allahabad was a very selfish and hot-tempered Raja named Surya Pratap, signifying "Powerful as the Sun," who expected everybody to obey him without a moment's delay, and was ready to punish in a very cruel manner those who hesitated to do so. He would never listen to a word of explanation, or own that he had been mistaken, even when he knew full well that he was in the wrong. He had a mantri, that is to say, a chief vizier or officer, whom he greatly trusted, and really seemed to be fond of, for he liked to have him always near him. The vizier was called Dhairya-Sila, or "the Patient One," because he never lost his temper, no matter what provocation he received. He had a beautiful house, much money and many jewels, carriages to drive about in, noble horses to ride and many servants to wait upon him, all given to him by his master. But what he loved best of all was his faithful wife, Buddhi-Mati, or "the Sensible One," whom he had chosen for himself, and who would have died for him. Many of the Raja's subjects were jealous of Dhairya-Sila, and constantly brought accusations against him, of none of which his master took any notice, except to punish those who tried to set him against his favourite. It really seemed as if nothing would ever bring harm to Dhairya-Sila; but he often told his wife that such good fortune was not likely to last, and that she must be prepared for a change before long. It turned out that he was right. For one day Surya Pratap ordered him to do what he considered would be a shameful deed. He refused; telling his master that he was wrong to think of such a thing, and entreating him to give up his purpose. "All your life long," he said, "you will wish you had listened to me; for your conscience will never let you rest!" On hearing these brave words, Surya Pratap flew into a terrible rage, summoned his guards, and ordered them to take Dhairya-Sila outside the city to a very lofty tower, and leave him at the top of it, without shelter from the sun and with nothing to eat or drink. The guards were at first afraid to touch the vizier, remembering how others had been punished for only speaking against him. Seeing their unwillingness, the Raja got more and more angry; but Dhairya-Sila himself kept quite calm, and said to the soldiers: "I go with you gladly. It is for the master to command and for me to obey." 1. What is the best way to learn to keep calm in an emergency? 2. Why does too much power have a bad influence on those who have it? CHAPTER II The guards were relieved to find they need not drag the vizier away; for they admired his courage and felt sure that the Raja would soon find he could not get on without him. It might go hardly with them if he suffered harm at their hands. So they only closed in about him; and holding himself very upright, Dhairya-Sila walked to the tower as if he were quite glad to go. In his heart however he knew full well that it would need all his skill to escape with his life. When her husband did not come home at night, Buddhi-Mati was very much distressed. She guessed at once that something had gone wrong, and set forth to try and find out what had happened. This was easy enough; for as she crept along, with her veil closely held about her lest she should be recognised, she passed groups of people discussing the terrible fate that had befallen the favourite. She decided that she must wait until midnight, when the streets would be deserted and she could reach the tower unnoticed. It was almost dark when she got there, but in the dim light of the stars she made out the form of him she loved better than herself, leaning over the edge of the railing at the top. "Is my dear lord still alive?" she whispered, "and is there anything I can do to help him?" "You can do everything that is needed to help me," answered Dhairya-Sila quietly, "if you only obey every direction I give you. Do not for one moment suppose that I am in despair. I am more powerful even now than my master, who has but shown his weakness by attempting to harm me. Now listen to me. Come to-morrow night at this very hour, bringing with you the following things: first, a beetle; secondly, sixty yards of the finest silk thread, as thin as a spider's web; thirdly, sixty yards of cotton thread, as thin as you can get it, but very strong; fourthly, sixty yards of good stout twine; fifthly, sixty yards of rope, strong enough to carry my weight; and last, but certainly not least, one drop of the purest bees' honey." 3. Do you think the vizier thought of all these things before or after he was taken to the tower? 4. What special quality did he display in the way in which he faced his position on the tower? CHAPTER III Buddhi-Mati listened very attentively to these strange instructions, and began to ask questions about them. "Why do you want the beetle? Why do you want the honey?" and so on. But her husband checked her. "I have no strength to waste in explanations," he said. "Go home in peace, sleep well, and dream of me." So the anxious wife went meekly away; and early the next day she set to work to obey the orders she had received. She had some trouble in obtaining fine enough silk, so very, very thin it had to be, like a spider's web; but the cotton, twine and rope were easily bought; and to her surprise she was not asked what she wanted them for. It took her a good while to choose the beetle. For though she had a vague kind of idea that the silk, the cotton, twine, and rope, were to help her husband get down from the tower, she could not imagine what share the beetle and the honey were to take. In the end she chose a very handsome, strong-looking, brilliantly coloured fellow who lived in the garden of her home and whom she knew to be fond of honey. 5. Can you guess how the beetle and the honey were to help in saving Dhairya-Sila? 6. Do you think it would have been better if the vizier had told his wife how all the things he asked for were to be used? CHAPTER IV All the time Buddhi-Mati was at work for her husband, she was thinking of him and looking forward to the happy day of his return home. She had such faith in him that she did not for a moment doubt that he would escape; but she was anxious about the future, feeling sure that the Raja would never forgive Dhairya-Sila for being wiser than himself. Exactly at the time fixed the faithful wife appeared at the foot of the tower, with all the things she had been told to bring with her. "Is all well with my lord?" she whispered, as she gazed up through the darkness. "I have the silken thread as fine as gossamer, the cotton thread, the twine, the rope, the beetle and the honey." "Yes," answered Dhairya-Sila, "all is still well with me. I have slept well, feeling confident that my dear one would bring all that is needed for my safety; but I dread the great heat of another day, and we must lose no time in getting away from this terrible tower. Now attend most carefully to all I bid you do; and remember not to speak loud, or the sentries posted within hearing will take alarm and drive you away. First of all, tie the end of the silken thread round the middle of the beetle, leaving all its legs quite free. Then rub the drop of honey on its nose, and put the little creature on the wall, with its nose turned upwards towards me. It will smell the honey, but will not guess that it carries it itself, and it will crawl upwards in the hope of getting to the hive from which that honey came. Keep the rest of the silk firmly held, and gradually unwind it as the beetle climbs up. Mind you do not let it slip, for my very life depends on that slight link with you." 7. Which do you think had the harder task to perform--the husband at the top of the tower or the wife at the foot of it? 8. Do you think the beetle was likely to imagine it was on the way to a hive of bees when it began to creep up the tower? CHAPTER V Buddhi-Mati, though her hands shook and her heart beat fast as she realized all that depended on her, kept the silk from becoming entangled; and when it was nearly all unwound, she heard her husband's voice saying to her: "Now tie the cotton thread to the end of the silk that you hold, and let it gradually unwind." She obeyed, fully understanding now what all these preparations were for. When the little messenger of life reached the top of the tower, Dhairya-Sila took it up in his hand and very gently unfastened the silken thread from its body. Then he placed the beetle carefully in a fold of his turban, and began to pull the silken thread up--very, very slowly, for if it had broken, his wonderful scheme would have come to an end. Presently he had the cotton thread in his fingers, and he broke off the silk, wound it up, and placed it too in his turban. It had done its duty well, and he would not throw it away. "Half the work is done now," he whispered to his faithful wife. "You have all but saved me now. Take the twine and tie it to the end of the cotton thread." Very happily Buddhi-Mati obeyed once more; and soon the cotton thread and twine were also laid aside, and the strong rope tied to the last was being quickly dragged up by the clever vizier, who knew that all fear of death from sunstroke or hunger was over. When he had all the rope on the tower, he fastened one end of it to the iron railing which ran round the platform on which he stood, and very quickly slid down to the bottom, where his wife was waiting for him, trembling with joy. 9. Do you see anything very improbable in the account of what the beetle did? 10. If the beetle had not gone straight up the tower, what do you think would have happened? CHAPTER VI After embracing his wife and thanking her for saving him, the vizier said to her: "Before we return home, let us give thanks to the great God who helped me in my need by putting into my head the device by which I escaped." The happy pair then prostrated themselves on the ground, and in fervent words of gratitude expressed their sense of what the God they worshipped had done for them. "And now," said Dhairya-Sila, "the next thing we have to do is to take the dear little beetle which was the instrument of my rescue back to the place it came from." And taking off his turban, he showed his wife the tiny creature lying in the soft folds. Buddhi-Mati led her husband to the garden where she had found the beetle, and Dhairya-Sila laid it tenderly on the ground, fetched some food for it, such as he knew it loved, and there left it to take up its old way of life. The rest of the day he spent quietly in his own home with his wife, keeping out of sight of his servants, lest they should report his return to his master. "You must never breathe a word to any one of how I escaped," Dhairya-Sila said, and his wife promised that she never would. 11. When the vizier got this promise, what did he forget which could betray how he got down from the tower, if any one went to look at it? 12. Do you think there was any need for the vizier to tell his wife to keep his secret? CHAPTER VII All this time the Raja was feeling very unhappy, for he thought he had himself caused the death of the one man he could trust. He was too proud to let anybody know that he missed Dhairya-Sila, and was longing to send for him from the tower before it was too late. What then was his relief and surprise when a message was brought to him that the vizier was at the door of the palace and begged for an interview. "Bring him in at once," cried Surya Pratap. And the next moment Dhairya-Sila stood before his master, his hands folded on his breast and his head bent in token of his submission. The attendants looked on, eager to know how he had got down from the tower, some of them anything but glad to see him back. The Raja took care not to show how delighted he was to see him, and pretending to be angry, he said: "How dare you come into my presence, and which of my subjects has ventured to help you to escape the death on the tower you so richly deserved?" "None of your subjects, great and just and glorious ruler," replied Dhairya-Sila, "but the God who created us both, making you my master and me your humble servant. It was that God," he went on, "who saved me, knowing that I was indeed guiltless of any crime against you. I had not been long on the tower when help came to me in the form of a great and noble eagle, which appeared above me, hovering with outspread wings, as if about to swoop down upon me and tear me limb from limb. I trembled greatly, but I need have had no fear; for instead of harming me, the bird suddenly lifted me up in its talons and, flying rapidly through the air, landed me upon the balcony of my home and disappeared. Great indeed was the joy of my wife at my rescue from what seemed to be certain death; but I tore myself away from her embraces, to come and tell my lord how heaven had interfered to prove my innocence." Fully believing that a miracle had taken place, Surya Pratap asked no more questions, but at once restored Dhairya-Sila to his old place as vizier, taking care not again to ill-treat the man he now believed to be under the special care of God. Though he certainly did not deserve it, the vizier prospered greatly all the rest of his life and as time went on he became the real ruler of the kingdom, for the Raja depended on his advice in everything. He grew richer and richer, but he was never really happy again, remembering the lie he had told to the master to whom he owed so much. Buddhi-Mati could never understand why he made up the story about the eagle, and constantly urged him to tell the truth. She thought it was really far more wonderful that a little beetle should have been the means of rescuing him, than that a strong bird should have done so; and she wanted everyone to know what a very clever husband she had. She kept her promise never to tell anyone what really happened, but the secret came out for all that. By the time it was known, however, Dhairya-Sila was so powerful that no one could harm him, and when he died his son took his place as vizier, 13. What lessons can be learnt from this story? 14. What do you think was Dhairya-Sila's motive for telling the Raja the lie about the eagle? 15. What did Surya Pratap's ready belief in the story show? 16. How do you think the secret the husband and wife kept so well was discovered? STORY VII A Crow and His Three Friends CHAPTER I In the branches of a great tree, in a forest in India, lived a wise old crow in a very comfortable, well-built nest. His wife was dead, and all his children were getting their own living; so he had nothing to do but to look after himself. He led a very easy existence, but took a great interest in the affairs of his neighbours. One day, popping his head over the edge of his home, he saw a fierce-looking man stalking along, carrying a stick in one hand and a net in the other. "That fellow is up to some mischief, I'll be bound," thought the crow: "I will keep my eye on him." The man stopped under the tree, spread the net on the ground; and taking a bag of rice out of his pocket, he scattered the grains amongst the meshes of the net. Then he hid himself behind the trunk of the tree from which the crow was watching, evidently intending to stop there and see what would happen. The crow felt pretty gore that the stranger had designs against birds, and that the stick had something to do with the matter. He was quite right; and it was not long before just what he expected came to pass. A flock of pigeons, led by a specially fine bird who had been chosen king because of his size and the beauty of his plumage, came flying rapidly along, and noticed the white rice, but did not see the net, because it was very much the same colour as the ground. Down swooped the king, and down swept all the other pigeons, eager to enjoy a good meal without any trouble to themselves. Alas, their joy was short lived! They were all caught in the net and began struggling to escape, beating the air with their wings and uttering loud cries of distress. The crow and the man behind the tree kept very quiet, watching them; the man with his stick ready to beat the poor helpless birds to death, the crow watching out of mere curiosity. Now a very strange and wonderful thing came to pass. The king of the pigeons, who had his wits about him, said to the imprisoned birds: "Take the net up in your beaks, all of you spread out your wings at once, and fly straight up into the air as quickly as possible." 1. What special qualities did the king display when he gave these orders to his subjects? 2. Can you think of any other advice the king might have given? CHAPTER II In a moment all the pigeons, who were accustomed to obey their leader, did as they were bid; each little bird seized a separate thread of the net in his beak and up, up, up, they all flew, looking very beautiful with the sunlight gleaming on their white wings. Very soon they were out of sight; and the man, who thought he had hit upon a very clever plan, came forth from his hiding-place, very much surprised at what had happened. He stood gazing up after his vanished net for a little time, and then went away muttering to himself, whilst the wise old crow laughed at him. When the pigeons had flown some distance, and were beginning to get exhausted, for the net was heavy and they were quite unused to carrying loads, the king bade them rest awhile in a clearing of the forest; and as they all lay on the ground panting for breath, with the cruel net still hampering them, he said: "What we must do now is to take this horrible net to my old friend Hiranya the mouse, who will, I am quite sure, nibble through the strings for me and set us all free. He lives, as you all know, near the tree where the net was spread, deep underground; but there are many passages leading to his home, and we shall easily find one of the openings. Once there, we will all lift up our voices, and call to him at once, when he will be sure to hear us." So the weary pigeons took up their burden once more, and sped back whence they had come, greatly to the surprise of the crow, who wondered at their coming back to the very place where misfortune had overtaken them. He very soon learnt the reason, and got so excited watching what was going on, that he hopped out of his nest and perched upon a branch where he could see better. Presently a great clamour arose, one word being repeated again and again: "Hiranya! Hiranya! Hiranya." "Why, that's the name of the mouse who lives down below there!" thought the crow. "Now, what good can he do? I know, I know," he added, as he remembered the sharp teeth of Hiranya. "That king of the pigeons is a sensible fellow. I must make friends with him." Very soon, as the pigeons lay fluttering and struggling outside one of the entrances to Hiranya's retreat, the mouse came out. He didn't even need to be told what was wanted, but at once began to nibble the string, first setting free the king, and then all the rest of the birds. "A friend in need is a friend indeed," cried the king; "a thousand thousand thanks!" And away he flew up into the beautiful free air of heaven, followed by the happy pigeons, none of them ever likely to forget the adventure or to pick up food from the ground without a good look at it first. 3. What was the chief virtue displayed by the mouse on this occasion? 4. Do you think it is easier to obey than to command? CHAPTER III The mouse did not at once return to his hole when the birds were gone, but went for a little stroll, which brought him to the ground still strewn with rice, which he began to eat with great relish. "It's an ill wind," he said to himself, "which brings nobody any good. There's many a good meal for my whole family here." Presently he was joined by the old crow, who had flown down from his perch unnoticed by Hiranya, and now addressed him in his croaky voice: "Hiranya," he said, "for that I know is your name, I am called Laghupatin and I would gladly have you for a friend. I have seen all that you did for the pigeons, and have come to the conclusion that you are a mouse of great wisdom, ready to help those who are in trouble, without any thought of yourself." "You are quite wrong," squeaked Hiranya. "I am not so silly as you make out. I have no wish to be your friend. If you were hungry, you wouldn't hesitate to gobble me up. I don't care for that sort of affection." With that Hiranya whisked away to his hole, pausing at the entrance, when he knew the crow could not get at him, to cry, "You be off to your nest and leave me alone!" The feelings of the crow were very much hurt at this speech, the more that he knew full well it was not exactly love for the mouse, which had led him to make his offer, but self-interest: for who could tell what difficulties he himself might some day be in, out of which the mouse might help him? Instead of obeying Hiranya, and going back to his nest, he hopped to the mouse's hole, and putting his head on one side in what he thought was a very taking manner, he said: "Pray do not misjudge me so. Never would I harm you! Even if I did not wish to have you for a friend, I should not dream of gobbling you up, as you say, however hungry I might be. Surely you are aware that I am a strict vegetarian, and never eat the flesh of other creatures. At least give me a trial. Let us share a meal together, and talk the matter over." 5. Can a friendship be a true one if the motive for it is self-interest? 6. Would it have been wise or foolish for the mouse to agree to be friends with the crow? CHAPTER IV Hiranya, on hearing the last remark of Laghupatin, hesitated, and in the end he agreed that he would have supper with the crow that very evening. "There is plenty of rice here," he said, "which we can eat on the spot. It would be impossible for you to get into my hole, and I am certainly not disposed to visit you in your nest." So the two at once began their meal, and before it was over they had become good friends. Not a day passed without a meeting, and when all the rice was eaten up, each of the two would bring something to the feast. This had gone on for some little time, when the crow, who was fond of adventure and change, said one day to the mouse: "Don't you think we might go somewhere else for a time? I am rather tired of this bit of the forest, every inch of which we both know well. I've got another great friend who lives beside a fine river a few miles away, a tortoise named Mandharaka; a thoroughly good, trustworthy fellow he is, though rather slow and cautious in his ways. I should like to introduce you to him. There are quantities of food suitable for us both where he lives, for it is a very fruitful land. What do you say to coming with me to pay him a visit?" "How in the world should I get there?" answered Hiranya. "It's all very well for you, who can fly. I can't walk for miles and miles. For all that I too am sick of this place and would like a change." "Oh, there's no difficulty about that," replied Laghupatin. "I will carry you in my beak, and you will get there without any fatigue at all." To this Hiranya consented, and very early one morning the two friends started off together. 7. Is love of change a good or a bad thing? 8. What did Hiranya's readiness to let Laghupatin carry him show? CHAPTER V After flying along for several hours, the crow began to feel very tired. He was seized too with a great desire to hear his own voice again. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion gently down, and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which quite frightened Hiranya, who timidly asked him what was the matter. "Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not quite so light as I thought you were, and that I need a rest; besides which, I am hungry and I expect you are. We had better stop here for the night, and start again early to-morrow morning." Hiranya readily agreed to this, and after a good meal, which was easily found, the two settled down to sleep, the crow perched in a tree, the mouse hidden amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again, and soon arrived at the river, where they were warmly welcomed by the tortoise. The three had a long talk together, and agreed never to part again. The tortoise, who had lived a great deal longer than either the mouse or the crow, was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago. "I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any of the wild creatures who live near this river to hurt me, and they know it full well. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws even of a tiger, a wild cat or an eagle, could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, my little friend, that you will be gobbled up some fine day, and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain." "Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger--much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice." In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone. The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer made answer: "I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe." "I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured, and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm." 9. Is it a good thing to make friends easily? 10. What was the bond of union between the crow, the mouse, the tortoise and the deer? CHAPTER VI The deer was so touched by the kind way in which he had been received, that he agreed to stop with the three friends; and for some weeks after his arrival all went well. Each member of the party went his own way during the day-time, but all four met together in the evening, and took it in turns to tell their adventures. The crow always had the most to say, and was very useful to the deer in warning him of the presence of hunters in the forest. One beautiful moonlight night the deer did not come back as usual, and the other three became very anxious about him. The crow flew up to the highest tree near and eagerly sought for some sign of his lost friend, of whom he had grown very fond. Presently he noticed a dark mass by the river-side, just where the deer used to go down to drink every evening. "That must be he," thought the crow; and very soon he was hovering above the deer, who had been caught in a net and was struggling in vain to get free. The poor deer was very glad indeed to see the crow, and cried to him in a piteous voice: "Be quick, be quick, and help me, before the terrible hunters find me and kill me." "I can do nothing for you myself," said the crow, "but I know who can. Remember who saved the pigeons!" And away he flew to fetch little Hiranya, who with the tortoise was anxiously awaiting his return. Very soon Laghupatin was back by the river-side with the little mouse in his beak; and it did not take long for Hiranya, who had been despised by the deer and the tortoise as a feeble little thing, to nibble through the cords and save the life of the animal a hundred times as big as himself. How happy the deer was when the cruel cords were loosed and he could stretch out his limbs again! He bounded up, but took great care not to crush the mouse, who had done him such a service. "Never, never, never," he said, "shall I forget what you have done for me. Ask anything in my power, and I will do it." "I want nothing," said Hixanya, "except the joyful thought of having saved you." By this time the tortoise had crept to the river-bank, and he too was glad that the deer had been saved. He praised the mouse, and declared that he would never again look down upon him. Then the four started to go back to their usual haunt in the forest; the deer, the crow, and the mouse soon arriving there quite safely, whilst the tortoise, who could only get along very slowly, lagged behind. Now came the time for him to find out that armour was not the only thing needed to save him from danger. He had not got very far from the riverbank before the cruel hunter who had set the net to catch the deer, came to see if he had succeeded. Great was his rage when he found the net lying on the ground, but not exactly where he had left it. He guessed at once that some animal had been caught in it and escaped after a long struggle. He looked carefully about and noticed that the cords had been bitten through here and there. So he suspected just what had happened, and began to search about for any creature who could have done the mischief. There was not a sign of the mouse, but the slow-moving tortoise was soon discovered, and pouncing down upon him, the hunter rolled him up in another net he had with him, and carried him off, "It's not much of a prize," said the hunter to himself, "but better than nothing. I'll have my revenge on the wretched creature anyhow, as I have lost the prey I sought." 11. Which of the four friends concerned in this adventure do you admire most? 12. What was the chief mistake made by the tortoise? CHAPTER VII When the tortoise in his turn did not come home, the deer, the crow and the mouse were very much concerned. They talked the matter over together and decided that, however great the risk to themselves, they must go back and see what had become of their friend. This time the mouse travelled in one of the eats of the deer, from which he peeped forth with his bright eyes, hoping to see the tortoise toiling along in his usual solemn manner; whilst the crow, also on the watch, flew along beside them. Great was the surprise and terror of all three when, as they came out of the forest, they saw the hunter striding along towards them, with the tortoise in the net under his arm. Once more the little mouse showed his wisdom. Without a moment's hesitation he said to the deer: "Throw yourself on the ground and pretend to be dead; and you," he added to the crow, "perch on his head and bend over as if you were going to peck out his eyes." Without any idea what Hiranya meant by these strange orders, but remembering how he had helped in other dangers, the two did as they were told; the poor deer feeling anything but happy lying still where his enemy was sure to see him, and thereby proving what a noble creature he was. The hunter did, see him very soon, and thinking to himself, "After all I shall get that deer," he let the tortoise fall, and came striding along as fast as he could. Up jumped the deer without waiting to see what became of the tortoise, and sped away like the wind. The hunter rushed after him, and the two were soon out of sight. The tortoise, whose armour had saved him from being hurt by his fall, was indeed pleased when he saw little Hiranya running towards him. "Be quick, be quick!" he cried, "and set me free." Very soon the sharp teeth of the mouse had bitten through the meshes of the net, and before the hunter came back, after trying in vain to catch the deer, the tortoise was safely swimming across the river, leaving the net upon the ground, whilst the crow and the mouse were back in the shelter of the forest. "There's some magic at work here," said the hunter when, expecting to find the tortoise where he had left him, he discovered that his prisoner had escaped. "The stupid beast could not have got out alone," he added, as he picked up the net and walked off with it. "But he wasn't worth keeping anyhow." That evening the four friends met once more, and talked over all they had gone through together. The deer and the tortoise were full of gratitude to the mouse, and could not say enough in his praise, but the crow was rather sulky, and remarked: "If it had not been for me, neither of you would ever have seen Hiranya. He was my friend before he was yours." "You are right," said the tortoise, "and you must also remember that it was my armour which saved me from being killed in that terrible fall." "Your armour would not have been of much use to you, if the hunter had been allowed to carry you to his home," said the deer. "In my opinion you and I both owe our lives entirely to Hiranya. He is small and weak, it is true, but he has better brains than any of the rest of us, and I for one admire him with all my heart. I am glad I trusted him and obeyed him, when he ordered me to pretend to be dead, for I had not the least idea how that could help the tortoise." "Have it your own way," croaked the crow, "but I keep my own opinion all the same. But for me you would never have known my dear little Hiranya." In spite of this little dispute the four friends were soon as happy together as before the adventure of the tortoise. They once more agreed never to part and lived happily together for many years, as they had done ever since they first met. 13. What were the chief differences in the characters of the four friends? 14. Are those who are alike or unlike in character more likely to remain friends? 15. How would you describe a true friend? 16. What fault is more likely than any other to lead to loss of friendship? STORY VIII A Clever Thief. CHAPTER I A certain man, named Hari-Sarman, who lived in a little village in India, where there were no rich people and everyone had to work hard to get his daily bread, got very weary of the life he had to lead. He had a wife whose name was Vidya, and a large family; and even if he had been very industrious it would have been difficult for him to get enough food for them all. Unfortunately he was not a bit industrious, but very lazy, and so was his wife. Neither of them made any attempt to teach their boys and girls to earn their own living; and if the other poor people in the village had not helped them, they would have starved. Hari-Sarman used to send his children out in different directions to beg or steal, whilst he and Vidya stayed at home doing nothing. One day he said to his wife: "Let us leave this stupid place, and go to some big city where we can pick up a living of some kind. I will pretend to be a wise man, able to find out secrets; and you can say that you know all about children, having had so many of your own." Vidya gladly agreed to this, and the whole party set out, carrying the few possessions they had with them. In course of time they came to a big town, and Hari-Sarman went boldly to the chief house in it, leaving his wife and children outside. He asked to see the master, and was taken into his presence. This master was a very rich merchant, owning large estates in the country; but he cannot have been very clever, for he was at once quite taken in by the story Hari-Sarman told him. He said that he would find work for him and his wife, and that the children could be sent to a farm he had, in the country, where they could be made very useful. Overjoyed at this, Hari-Sarman hastened out to tell his wife the good news; and the two were at once received into the grand residence, in which a small room was given to them for their own, whilst the children were taken away to the farm, fall of eager delight at the change from the wretched life they had been leading. 1. Would it have been better for Hari-Sarman and Vidya if their neighbours had not helped them? 2. Do you think Hari-Sarman was the only person to blame for his poverty? CHAPTER II Soon after the arrival of the husband and wife at the merchant's house, a very important event took place, namely, the marriage of the eldest daughter. Great were the preparations beforehand, in which Vidya took her full share, helping in the kitchen to make all manner of delicious dishes, and living in great luxury herself. For there was no stint in the wealthy home; even the humblest servants were well cared for. Vidya was happier than she had ever been before, now that she had plenty to do and plenty of good food. She became in fact quite a different creature, and began to wish she had been a better mother to her children. "When the wedding is over," she thought, "I will go and see how they are getting on." On the other hand she forgot all about her husband and scarcely ever saw him. It was all very different with Hari-Sarman himself. He had no special duties to perform and nobody seemed to want him. If he went into the kitchen, the busy servants ordered him to get out of their way; and he was not made welcome by the owner of the house or his guests. The merchant too forgot all about him, and he felt very lonely and miserable. He had been thinking to himself how much he would enjoy all the delicious food he would get after the wedding; and now he began to grumble: "I'm starving in the midst of plenty, that's what I am. Something will have to be done to change this horrible state of things." Whilst the preparations for the wedding were going on, Vidya never came near her husband, and he lay awake a long time thinking, "What in the world can I do to make the master send for me?" All of a sudden an idea came into his head. "I'll steal something valuable, and hide it away; and when everyone is being asked about the loss, the merchant will remember the man who can reveal secrets. Now what can I take that is sure to be missed? I know, I know!" And springing out of bed, he hastily dressed himself and crept out of the house. 3. What would you have done if you had been Hari-Sarman? 4. Do you think Vidya ever had any real love for her husband? CHAPTER III This was what Hari-Sarman decided to do. The merchant had a great many very beautiful horses, which lived in splendid stables and were taken the greatest possible care of. Amongst them was a lovely little Arab mare, the special favourite of the bride, who often went to pet it and give it sugar. "I'll steal that mare and hide it away in the forest," said the wicked man to himself. "Then, when every one is hunting for her, the master will remember the man who can reveal secrets and send for me. Ah! Ah! What a clever fellow I am! Ah the stablemen and grooms are feasting, I know; for I saw them myself when I tried to get hold of my wife. I can climb through a window that is always left open." It turned out that he was right. He met no one on his way to the stables, which ware quite deserted. He got in easily, opened, the door from inside, and led out the little mare, which made no resistance; she had always been so kindly treated that she was not a bit afraid. He took the beautiful creature far into the depths of the forest, tied her up there, and got safely back to his own room without being seen. Early the next morning the merchant's daughter, attended by her maidens, went to see her dear little mare, taking with her an extra supply of sugar. What was her distress when she found the stall empty! She guessed at once that a thief had got in during the night, and hurried home to tell her father, who was very, very angry with the stablemen who had deserted their posts, and declared they should all be flogged for it. "But the first thing to do is to get the mare back," he said; and he ordered messengers to be sent in every direction, promising a big reward to anyone who brought news of the mare. Vidya of course heard all there was to hear, and at once suspected that Hari-Sarman had had something to do with the matter. "I expect he has hidden the mare," she thought to herself, "and means to get the reward for finding it." So she asked to see the master of the house, and when leave was granted to her she said to him: "Why do you not send for my husband, the man who can reveal secrets, because of the wonderful power that has been given him of seeing what is hidden from others? Many a time has he surprised me by what he has been able to do." 5. Do you think Vidya had any wish to help Hari-Sarman for his own sake? 6. Is there anything you think she should have done before seeing the master? CHAPTER IV On hearing what Vidya said, the merchant at once told her to go and fetch her husband. But to her surprise Hari-Sarman refused to go back with her. "You can tell the master what you like," he said, angrily. "You all forgot me entirely yesterday; and now you want me to help you, you suddenly remember my existence. I am not going to be at your beck and call or anyone else's." Vidya entreated him to listen to reason, but it was no good. She had to go back and tell the merchant that he would not come. Instead of being made angry by this, however, the master surprised her by saying: "Your husband is right. I have treated him badly. Go and tell him I apologise, and will reward him well, if only he will come and help me." Back again went Vidya and this time she was more successful. But though Hari-Sarman said he would go back with her, he was very sulky and would not answer any of her questions. She could not understand him, and wished she had not left him to himself for so long. He behaved very strangely too when the master, who received him very kindly, asked him if he could tell him where the mare was. "I know," he said, "what a wise and clever man you are." "It didn't seem much like it yesterday," grumbled Hari-Sarman. "Nobody took any notice of me then, but now you want something of me, you find out that I am wise and clever. I am just the same person, that I was yesterday." "I know, I know," said the merchant, "and I apologise for my neglect; but when a man's daughter is going to be married, it's no wonder some one gets neglected." 7. Do yon think Hari-Sarman was wise to treat his wife and the merchant as he did? 8. If the mare had been found whilst Hari-Sarman was talking to the master, what effect do you think the discovery would have had upon them both? CHAPTER V Hari-Sarman now thought it was time to take a different tone. So he put his hand in his pocket, and brought out a map he had got ready whilst waiting to be sent for, as he had felt sure he would be. He spread it out before the merchant, and pointed to a dark spot in the midst of many lines crossing each other in a bewildering manner, which he explained were pathways through the forest. "Under a tree, where that dark spot is, you will find the mare," he said. Overjoyed at the good news, the merchant at once sent a trusted servant to test the truth; and when the mare was brought back, nothing seemed too good for the man who had led to her recovery. At the wedding festivities Hari-Sarman was treated as an honoured guest, and no longer had he any need to complain of not having food enough. His wife of course thought he would forgive her now for having neglected him. But not a bit of it: he still sulked with her, and she could never feel quite sure what the truth was about the mare. All went well with Hari-Sarman for a long time. But presently something happened which seemed likely to get him into very great trouble. A quantity of gold and many valuable jewels disappeared in the palace of the king of the country; and when the thief could not be discovered, some one told the king the story of the stolen mare, and how a man called Hari-Sarman, living in the house of a rich merchant in the chief city, had found her when everyone else had failed. "Fetch that man here at once," ordered the king, and very soon Hari-Sarman was brought before him. "I hear you are so wise, you can reveal all secrets," said the king. "Now tell me immediately who has stolen the gold and jewels and where they are to be found." Poor Hari-Sarman did not know what to say or do. "Give me till to-morrow," he replied in a faltering voice; "I must have a little time to think." "I will not give you a single hour," answered the king. For seeing the man before him was frightened, he began to suspect he was a deceiver. "If you do not at once tell me where the gold and jewels are, I will have you flogged until you find your tongue." Hearing this, Hari-Sarman, though more terrified than ever, saw that his only chance of gaining time to make up some story was to get the king to believe in him. So he drew himself up and answered: "The wisest magicians need to employ means to find out the truth. Give me twenty-four hours, and I will name the thieves." "You are not much of a magician if you cannot find out such a simple thing as I ask of you," said the king. And turning to the guards, he ordered them to take Hari-Sarman to prison, and shut him up there without food or drink till he came to his senses. The man was dragged away, and very soon he found himself alone in a dark and gloomy room from which he saw no hope of escape. He was in despair and walked up and down, trying in vain to think of some way of escape. "I shall die here of starvation, unless my wife finds some means of setting me free," he said. "I wish I had treated her better instead of being so sulky with her." He tried the bars of the window, but they were very strong: he could not hope to move them. And he beat against the door, but no notice was taken of that. 9. What lesson does the trouble Hari-Sarman was in teach? 10. Do you think it would have been better for him to tell the king he could not reveal secrets? CHAPTER VI When it got quite dark in the prison, Hari-Sarman began to talk to himself aloud. "Oh," he said, "I wish I had bitten my tongue out before I told that lie about the mare. It is all my foolish tongue which has got me into this trouble. Tongue! Tongue!" he went on, "it is all your fault." Now a very strange thing happened. The money and jewels had been stolen by a man, who had been told where they were by a young servant girl in the palace whose name was Jihva, which is the Sanskrit word for tongue; and this girl was in a great fright when she heard that a revealer of secrets had been taken before the king. "He will tell of my share in the matter," she thought, "and I shall get into trouble," It so happened that the guard at the prison door was fond of her, as well as the thief who had stolen the money and jewels. So when all was quiet in the palace, Jihva slipped away to see if she could get that guard to let her see the prisoner. "If I promise to give him part of the money," she thought, "he will undertake not to betray me." The guard was glad enough when Jihva came to talk to him, and he let her listen at the key-hole to what Hari-Sarman was saying. Just imagine her astonishment when she heard him repeating her name again and again. "Jihva! Jihva! Thou," he cried, "art the cause of this suffering. Why didst thou behave in such a foolish manner, just for the sake of the good things of this life? Never can I forgive thee, Jihva, thou wicked, wicked one!" "Oh! oh!" cried Jihva in an agony of terror, "he knows the truth; he knows that I helped the thief." And she entreated the guard to let her into the prison that she might plead with Hari-Sarman. not to tell the king what she had done. The man hesitated at first, but in the end she persuaded him to consent by promising him a large reward. When the key grated in the lock, Hari-Sarman stopped talking aloud, wondering whether what he had been saying had been overheard by the guard, and half hoping that his wife had got leave to come and see him. As the door opened and he saw a woman coming in by the light of a lantern held up by the guard, he cried, "Vidya my beloved!" But he soon realized that it was a stranger. He was indeed surprised and relieved, when Jihva suddenly threw herself at his feet and, clinging to his knees, began to weep and moan "Oh, most holy man," she cried between her sobs, "who knowest the very secrets of the heart, I have come to confess that it was indeed I, Jihva, your humble servant, who aided the thief to take the jewels and the gold and to hide them beneath the big pomegranate tree behind the palace." "Rise," replied Hari-Sarman, overjoyed at hearing this. "You have told me nothing that I did not know, for no secret is hidden from me. What reward will you give me if I save you from the wrath of the king?" "I will give you all the money I have," said Jihva; "and that is not a little." "That also I knew," said Hari-Sarman. "For you have good wages, and many a time you have stolen money that did not belong to you. Go now and fetch it all, and have no fear that I will betray you." 11. What mistakes do you think Jihva made in what she said to Hari-Sarman? 12. What would have been the best thing for her to do when she thought she was found out? CHAPTER VII Without waiting a moment Jihva hurried away to fetch the money; but when she got back with it, the man on guard, who had heard everything that had passed between her and Hari-Sarman, would not let her in to the prison again till she gave him ten gold pieces. Thinking that Hari-Sarman really knew exactly how much money she had, Jihva was afraid he would be angry when he missed some of it; and again she let out the truth, which he might never have guessed. For she began at once to say, "I brought all I had, but the man at the door has taken ten pieces." This did vex Hari-Sarman very much, and he told her he would let the king know what she had done, unless she fetched the thief who had taken the money and jewels. "I cannot do that," said Jihva, "for he is very far away. He lives with his brother, Indra Datta, in the forest beyond the river, more than a day's journey from here." "I did but try you," said the clever Hari-Sarman, who now knew who the thief was; "for I can see him where he is at this moment. Now go home and wait there till I send for you." But Jihva, who loved the thief and did not want him to be punished, refused to go until Hari-Sarman promised that he would not tell the king who the man was or where he lived. "I would rather," she said, "bear all the punishment than that he should suffer." Even Hari-Sarman was touched at this, and fearing that if he kept Jihva longer, she would be found in the prison by messengers from the king, he promised that no harm should come to her or the thief, and let her go. Very soon after this, messengers came to take Hari-Sarman once more before the king; who received him very coldly and began at once to threaten him with a terrible punishment, if he did not say who the thief was, and where the gold and jewels were. Even now Hari-Sarman pretended to be unwilling to speak. But when he saw that the king would put up with no more delay, he said, "I will lead you to the spot where the treasure is buried, but the name of the thief, though I know it, I will never betray." The king, who did not really care much who the thief was, so long as he got back his money, lost not a moment, but ordered his attendants to get spades and follow him. Very soon Hari-Sarman brought them to the pomegranate tree. And there, sure enough, deep down in the ground, was all that had been lost. Nothing was now too good for Hari-Sarman: the king was greatly delighted, and heaped riches and honours upon him. But some of the wise men at the court suspected that he was really a deceiver, and set about trying to find out all they could about him. They sent for the man who had been on guard at the prison, and asked him many questions. He did not dare tell the truth, for he knew he would be terribly punished if he let out that Jihva had been allowed to see his prisoner; but he hesitated so much that the wise men knew he was not speaking the truth. One of them, whom the king loved, and trusted very much, whose name was Deva-Jnanin, said to his master: "I do not like to see that man, about whom we really know nothing, treated as he is. He might easily have found out where the treasure was hidden without any special power. Will you not test him in some other way in my presence and that of your chief advisers?" The king, who was always ready to listen to reason, agreed to this; and after a long consultation with Deva-Jnanin, he decided on a very clever puzzle with which to try Hari-Sarman. A live frog was put into a pitcher; the lid was shut down, and the man who pretended to know everything was brought into the great reception room, where all the wise men of the court were gathered together round the throne, on which sat the king in his royal robes. Deva-Jnanin had been chosen by his master to speak for him; and coming forward, he pointed to the small pitcher on the ground, and said: "Great as are the honours already bestowed on you, they shall be increased if you can say at once what is in that pitcher." 13. What kind of man do you think the king was from his behaviour to Hari-Sarman? 14. Was it wise or foolish of Hari-Sarman to remain in the city after his very narrow escape? CHAPTER VIII Hari-Sarman thought whan he looked at the pitcher: "Alas, alas, it is all over with me now! Never can I find out what is in it. Would that I had left this town with the money I had from Jihva before it was too late!" Then he began to mutter to himself, as it was always his habit to do when he was in trouble. It so happened that, when he was a little boy, his father used to call him frog, and now his thoughts went back to the time when he was a happy innocent child, and he said aloud: "Oh, frog, what trouble has come to you! That pitcher will be the death of you!" Even Deva-Jnanin was astonished when he heard that; and so were all the other wise men. The king was delighted to find that after all he had made no mistake; and all the people who had been allowed to come in to see the trial were greatly excited. Shouting for joy the king called Hari-Sarman to come to the foot of the throne, and told him he would never, never doubt him again. He should have yet more money, a beautiful house in the country as well as the one he already had in the town, and his children should be brought from the farm to live with him and their mother, who should have lovely dresses and ornaments to wear. Nobody was more surprised than Hari-Sarman himself. He guessed, of course, that there was a frog in the pitcher. And when the king had ended his speech, he said: "One thing I ask in addition to all that has been given me, that I may keep the pitcher in memory of this day, when my truth has been proved once more beyond a doubt." His request was, of course, granted; and he went off with the pitcher under his arm, full of rejoicing over his narrow escape. At the same time he was also full of fear for the future. He knew only too well that it had only been by a lucky chance that he had used the word Jihva in his first danger and Frog in the second. He was not likely to get off a third time; and he made up his mind that he would skip away some dark night soon, with all the money and jewels he could carry, and be seen no more where such strange adventures had befallen him. He did not even tell his wife what he meant to do, but pretended to have forgiven her entirely for the way she had neglected him when he was poor, and to be glad that their children were to be restored to them. Before they came from the farm their father had disappeared, and nobody ever found out what had become of him; but the king let his family keep what had been given to him, and to the end believed he really had been what he had pretended to be. Only Deva-Jnanin had his doubts; but he kept them to himself, for he thought, "Now the man is gone, it really does not matter who or what he was." 15. What is the chief lesson to be learnt from this story? 16. What do you think it was that made Hari-Sarman think of his boyhood when he was in trouble? 17. Do you think he took the pitcher and frog with him when he left the city? 18. Do you think there was anything good in the character of Hari-Sarman? STORY IX The Hermit's Daughter. CHAPTER I Near a town in India called Ikshumati, on a beautiful wide river, with trees belonging to a great forest near its banks, there dwelt a holy man named Mana Kanaka, who spent a great part of his life praying to God. He had lost his wife when his only child, a lovely girl called Kadali-Garbha, was only a few months old. Kadali-Garbha was a very happy girl, with many friends in the woods round her home, not children like herself, but wild creatures, who knew she would not do them any harm. They loved her and she loved them. The birds were so tame that they would eat out of her hand, and the deer used to follow her about in the hope of getting the bread she carried in her pocket for them. Her father taught her all she knew, and that was a great deal; for she could read quite learned books in the ancient language of her native land. Better even than what she found out in those books was what Mana Kanaka told her about the loving God of all gods who rules the world and all that live in it. Kadali-Garbha also learnt a great deal through her friendship with wild animals. She knew where the birds built their nests, where the baby deer were born, where the squirrels hid their nuts, and what food all the dwellers in the forest liked best. She helped her father to work in their garden in which all their own food was grown; and she loved to cook the fruit and vegetables for Mana Kanaka and herself. Her clothes were made of the bark of the trees in the forest, which she herself wove into thin soft material suitable for wearing in a hot climate. 1. What do you think it was which made the animals trust Kadali-Garbha? 2. Could you have been happy in the forest with no other children to play with? CHAPTER II Kadali-Garbha never even thought about other children, because she had not been used to having them with her. She was just as happy as the day was long, and never wished for any change. But when she was about sixteen something happened which quite altered her whole life. One day her father had gone into the forest to cut wood, and had left her alone. She had finished tidying the house, and got everything ready for the midday meal, and was sitting at the door of her home, reading to herself, with birds fluttering about her head and a pet doe lying beside her, when she heard the noise of a horse's feet approaching. She looked up, and there on the other side of the fence was a very handsome young man seated on a great black horse, which he had reined up when he caught sight of her. He looked at her without speaking, and she looked back at him with her big black eyes full of surprise at his sudden appearance. She made a beautiful picture, with the green creepers covering the hut behind her, and the doe, which had started up in fear of the horse, pressing against her. The man was the king of the country, whose name was Dridha-Varman. He had been hunting and had got separated from his attendants. He was very much surprised to find anyone living in the very depths of the forest, and was going to ask the young girl who she was, when Kadali-Garbha saw her father coming along the path leading to his home. Jumping up, she ran to meet him, glad that he had come; for she had never before seen a young man and was as shy as any of the wild creatures of the woods. Now that Mana Kanaka was with her, she got over her fright, and felt quite safe, clinging to his arm as he and the king talked together. 3. Can you describe just how Kadali-Garbha felt when she saw the king? 4. Do you think it would have been a good or a bad thing for her to live all the rest of her life in the forest? CHAPTER III Mana Kanaka knew at once that the man on the horse was the king; and a great fear entered his heart when he saw how Dridha-Varman looked at his beloved only child. "Who are you, and who is that lovely girl?" asked the king. And Mana Kanaka answered, "I am only a humble woodcutter; and this is my only child, whose mother has long been dead." "Her mother must have been a very lovely woman, if her daughter is like her," said the king. "Never before have I seen such perfect beauty." "Her mother," replied Mana Kanaka, "was indeed what you say; and her soul was as beautiful as the body in which it dwelt all too short a time." "I would have your daughter for my wife," said the king; "and if you will give her to me, she shall have no wish ungratified. She shall have servants to wait on her and other young girls to be her companions; beautiful clothes to wear, the best of food to eat, horses and carriages as many as she will, and no work to do with her own hands." 5. If you had been Kadali-Garbha, what would you have said when you heard all these promises? 6. Of all the things the king said she should have, which would you have liked best? CHAPTER IV What Kadali-Garbha did was to cling closely to her father, hiding her face on his arm and whispering, "I will not leave you: do not send me away from you, dear father." Mana Kanaka stroked her hair, and said in a gentle voice: "But, dear child, your father is old, and must leave you soon. It is a great honour for his little girl to be chosen by the king for his bride. Do not be afraid, but look at him and see how handsome he is and how kind he looks." Then Kadali-Garbha looked at the king, who smiled at her and looked so charming that her fear began to leave her. She still clung to her father, but no longer hid her face; and Mana Kanaka begged Kadali-Garbha to let him send her away, so that he might talk with the king alone about the wish he had expressed to marry her. The king consented to this, and Kadali-Garbha gladly ran away. But when she reached the door of her home, she looked back, and knew in her heart that she already loved the king and did not want him to go away. It did not take long for the matter of the marriage to be settled. For Mana Kanaka, sad though he was to lose his dear only child, was glad that she should be a queen, and have some one to take care of her when he was gone. After this first visit to the little house in the forest the king came every day to see Kadali-Garbha, bringing all kinds of presents for her. She learnt to love him so much that she became as eager as he was for the wedding to be soon. When the day was fixed, the king sent several ladies of his court to dress the bride in clothes more beautiful that she had ever dreamt of; and in them she looked more lovely even than the first day her lover had seen her. Now amongst these ladies was a very wise woman who could see what was going to happen; and she knew that there would be troubles for the young queen in the palace, because many would be jealous of her happiness. She was very much taken with the beautiful innocent girl, and wanted to help her so much that she managed to get her alone for a few minutes, when she said to her: "I want you to promise me something. It is to take this packet of mustard seeds, hide it in the bosom of your dress, and when you ride to the palace with your husband, strew the seed along the path as you go. You know how quickly mustard grows. Well, it will spring up soon; and if you want to come home again, you can easily find the way by following the green shoots. Alas, I fear they will not have time to wither before you need their help!" Kadali-Garbha laughed when the wise woman talked about trouble coming to her. She was so happy, she could not believe she would want to come home again so soon. "My father can come to me when I want him," she said. "I need only tell my dear husband to send for him." But for all that she took the packet of seeds and hid it in her dress. 7. Would you have done as the wise woman told you if you had been the bride? 8. Ought Kadali-Garbha to have told the king about the mustard seed? CHAPTER V After the wedding was over, the king mounted his beautiful horse, and bending down, took his young wife up before him. Holding her close to him with his right arm, he held the reins in his left hand; and away they went, soon leaving all the attendants far behind them, the queen scattering the mustard seed as she had promised to do. When they arrived at the palace there were great rejoicings, and everybody seemed charmed with the queen, who was full of eager interest in all that she saw. For several weeks there was nobody in the wide world so happy and light-hearted as the bride. The king spent many hours a day with her, and was never tired of listening to all she had to tell him about her life in the forest with her father. Every day he gave her some fresh proof of his love, and he never refused to do anything she asked him to do. But presently a change came. Amongst the ladies of the court there was a beautiful woman, who had hoped to be queen herself, and hated Kadali-Garbha so much that she made up her mind to get her into disgrace with the king. She asked first one powerful person and then another to help her; but everybody loved the queen, and the wicked woman began to be afraid that those she had told about her wish to harm her would warn the king. So she sought about for some one who did not know Kadali-Garbha, and suddenly remembered a wise woman named Asoka-Mala, who lived in a cave not far from the town, to whom many people used to go for advice in their difficulties. She went to this woman one night, and told her a long story in which there was not one word of truth. The young queen, she said, did not really love the king; and with the help of her father, who was a magician, she meant to poison him. How could this terrible thing be prevented, she asked; and she promised that if only Asoka-Mala would help to save Dridha-Varman, she would give her a great deal of money. Asoka-Mala guessed at once that the story was not true, and that it was only because the woman was jealous of the beautiful young queen that she wished to hurt her. But she loved money very much. Instead therefore of at once refusing to have anything to do with the matter, she said: "Bring me fifty gold pieces now, and promise me another fifty when the queen is sent away from the palace, and I will tell you what to do." The wicked woman promised all this at once. The very next night she brought the first fifty pieces of gold to the cave, and Asoka-Mala told her that she must get the barber, who saw the king alone every day, to tell him he had found out a secret about the queen. "You must tell the barber all you have already told me. But be very careful to give some proof of your story. For if you do not do so, you will only have wasted the fifty gold pieces you have already given to me; and, more than that, you will be terribly punished for trying to hurt the queen, whom everybody loves." 9. Do you think this plot against Kadali-Garbha was likely to succeed? 10. Can you think of any way in which the wise woman might have helped the queen and also have gained a reward for herself? CHAPTER VI The wicked woman went back to the palace, thinking all the way to herself, "How can I get a proof of what is not true?" At last an idea came into her head. She knew that the queen loved to wander in the forest, and that she was not afraid of the wild creatures, but seemed to understand their language. She would tell the barber that Kadali-Garbha was a witch and knew the secrets of the woods; that she had been seen gathering wild herbs, some of them poisonous, and had been heard muttering strange words to herself as she did so. Early the next morning the cruel woman went to see the barber, and promised him a reward if he would tell the king what she had found out about his wife. "He won't believe you at first," she said; "but you must go on telling him till he does. You are clever, enough," she added, "to make up something he will believe if what I have thought of is no good." The barber, who had served the king for many years, would not at first agree to help to make him unhappy. But he too liked money very much, and in the end he promised to see what he could do if he was well paid for it. He was, as the wicked woman had said, clever enough; and he knew from long experience just how to talk to his master. He began by asking the king if he had heard of the lovely woman who was sometimes seen by the woodmen wandering about alone in the forest, with wild creatures following her. Remembering how he had first seen Kadali-Garbha, Dridha-Varman at once guessed that she was the lovely woman. But he did not tell the barber so; for he was so proud of his dear wife's beauty that he liked to hear her praised, and wanted the man to go on talking about her. He just said: "What is she like? Is she tall or short, fair or dark?" The barber answered the questions readily. Then he went on to say that it was easy to see that the lady was as clever as she was beautiful; for she knew not only all about animals but also about plants. "Every day," he said, "she gathers quantities of herbs, and I have been told she makes healing medicines of them. Some even go so far as to say she also makes poisons. But, for my part, I do not believe that; she is too beautiful to be wicked." The king listened, and a tiny little doubt crept into his mind about his wife. She had never told him about the herbs she gathered, although she often chattered about her friends in the forest. Perhaps after all it was not Kadali-Garbha the barber was talking about. He would ask her if she knew anything about making medicines from herbs. He did so when they were alone together, and she said at once, "Oh, yes! My father taught me. But I have never made any since I was married." "Are you sure?" asked the king; and she answered laughing, "Of course, I am: how could I be anything but sure? I have no need to think of medicine-making, now I am the queen." Dridha-Varman said no more at the time. But he was troubled; and when the barber came again, he began at once to ask about the woman who had been seen in the woods. The wicked man was delighted, and made up a long story. He said one of the waiting women had told him of what she had seen. The woman, he said, had followed the lady home one day, and that home was not far from the palace. She had seen her bending over a fire above which hung a great sauce-pan full of water, into which she flung some of the herbs she had gathered, singing as she did so, in a strange language. "Could it possibly be," thought the king, "that Kadali-Garbha had deceived him? Was she perhaps a witch after all?" He remembered that he really did not know who she was, or who her father was. He had loved her directly he saw her, just because she was so beautiful. What was he to do now? He was quite sure, from the description the barber had given of the woman in the forest, that she was his wife. He would watch her himself in future, and say nothing to her that would make her think he was doing so. 11. What should the king have done when he heard the barber's story? 12. Can you really love anybody truly whom you do not trust? CHAPTER VII Although the king said nothing to his wife about what the barber had told him, he could not treat her exactly as he did before he heard it, and she very soon began to wonder what she had done to vex him. The first thing she noticed was that one of the ladies of the court always followed her when she went into the forest. She did not like this; because she so dearly loved to be alone with the wild creatures, and they did not come to her when any one else was near. She told the lady to go away, and she pretended to do so; but she only kept a little further off. And though the queen could no longer see her, she knew she was there, and so did the birds and the deer. This went on for a little time; and then Kadali-Garbha asked her husband to tell every one that she was not to be disturbed when she went to see her friends in the forest. "I am afraid," said the king, "that some harm will come to you. There are wild beasts in the depths of the wood who might hurt you. And what should I do if any harm came to my dear one?" Kadali-Garbha was grieved when Dridha-Varman said this, for she knew it was not true; and she looked at him so sadly that he felt ashamed of having doubted her. All would perhaps have been well even now, if he had told her of the story he had heard about her, because then she could have proved that it was not true. But he did not do that; he only said, "I cannot let you be alone so far from home. Why not be content with the lovely gardens all round the palace? If you still wish to go to the woods, I will send one of the game-keepers with you instead of the lady who has been watching you. Then he can protect you if any harmful creature should approach." "If my lord does not wish me to be alone in the forest," answered the queen, "I will be content with the gardens. For no birds or animals would come near me if one of their enemies were with me. But," she added, as her eyes filled with tears, "will not my lord tell me why he no longer trusts his wife, who loves him with all her heart?" The king was very much touched by what Kadali-Garbha said, but still could not make up his mind to tell her the truth. So he only embraced her fondly, and said she was a good little wife to be so ready to obey him. The queen went away very sadly, wondering to herself what she could do to prove to her dear lord that she loved him as much as ever. She took care never to go outside the palace gardens, but she longed very much for her old freedom, and began to grow pale and thin. The wicked woman who had tried to do her harm was very much disappointed that she had only succeeded in making her unhappy; so she went again to Asoka-Mala, and promised her more money if only she would think of some plan to get the king to send his wife away. The wise woman considered a long time, and then she said: "You must use the barber again. He goes from house to house, and he must tell the king that the beautiful woman, who used to roam about in the forest collecting herbs, has been seen there again in the dead of the night, when she could be sure no one would find out what she was doing." Now it so happened that Kadali-Garbha was often unable to sleep because of her grief that the king did not love her so much as he used to do. One night she got so tired of lying awake that she got up very quietly, so as not to disturb her husband, and putting on her sari, she went out into the gardens, hoping that the fresh air might help her to sleep. Presently the king too woke up, and finding that his wife was no longer beside him, he became very uneasy, and was about to go and seek her, when she came back. He asked her where she had been; and she told him exactly what had happened, but she did not explain why she could not sleep. 13. What mistake did the queen make in her treatment of the king? 14. Do you think it is more hurtful to yourself and to others to talk too much or too little? CHAPTER VIII When the barber was shaving the king the next morning, he told him he had heard that people were saying the beautiful woman had been seen again one night, gathering herbs and muttering to herself. "They talk, my lord," said the man, "of your own name having been on her lips; and those who love and honour you are anxious for your safety. Maybe the woman is indeed a witch, who for some reason of her own will try to poison you." Now Dridha-Varman remembered that Kadali-Garbha had left him the night before, "and perhaps," he thought, "at other times when I was asleep." He could scarcely wait until the barber had finished shaving him, so eager was he to find out the truth. He hurried to his wife's private room, but she was not there; and her ladies told him she had not been seen by them that day. This troubled him terribly, and he roused the whole palace to seek her. Messengers were soon hurrying to and fro, but not a trace of her could be found. Dridha-Varman was now quite sure that the woman the barber had talked about was Kadali-Garbha, the wife he had so loved and trusted. "Perhaps," he thought, "she has left poison in my food, and has gone away so as not to see me die." He would neither eat nor drink, and he ordered all the ladies whose duty it was to wait on the queen to be locked up till she was found. Amongst them was the wicked woman who had done all the mischief because of her jealousy of the beautiful young queen, and very much she wished she had never tried to harm her. 15. Where do you suppose the queen had gone? 16. What mistake did the king make when he heard the queen was missing? CHAPTER IX In her trouble about the loss of the king's love Kadali-Garbha longed for her father, for she felt sure he would be able to help her. So she determined to go to him. With the aid of the wise woman who had given her the packet of mustard seed, and who had been her best friend at court, she disguised herself as a messenger, and, mounted on a strong little pony, she sped along the path marked out by the young shoots of mustard, reaching her old home in the forest before the night fell. Great indeed was the joy of Mana Kanaka at the sight of his beloved child, and very soon she had poured out all her sorrow to him. The hermit was at first very much enraged with his son-in-law for the way in which he had treated Kadali-Garbha, and declared that he would use all the powers he had to punish him. "Never," he said, "shall he see your dear face again; but I will go to him and call down on him all manner of misfortunes. You know not, dear child, I have never wished you to know, that I am a magician and can make the very beasts of the field and the winds of heaven obey me. I know full well who has made this mischief between you and your husband, and I will see that punishment overtakes them." "No, no, father," cried Kadali-Garbha; "I will not have any harm done to my dear one, for I love him with all my heart. All I ask of you is to prove to him that I am innocent of whatever fault he thinks I have committed, and to make him love and trust me again." It was hard work to persuade Mana Kanaka to promise not to harm the king, but in the end he yielded. Together the father and daughter rode back to the palace, and together they were brought before Dridha-Varman, who, in spite of the anger he had felt against his wife, was overjoyed to see her. When he looked at her clinging to Mana Kanaka's arm, as she had done the first time they met, all his old love returned, and he would have taken her in his arms and told her so before the whole court, if she had not drawn back. It was Mana Kanaka who was the first to speak. Drawing himself up to his full height, and pointing to the king, he charged him with having broken his vow to love and protect his wife. "You have listened to lying tongues," he said, "and I will tell you to whom those tongues belong, that justice may be done to them." Once more Kadali-Garbha interfered. "No, father," she said; "let their names be forgotten: only prove to my lord that I am his loving faithful wife, and I will be content." "I need no proof," cried Dridha-Varman; "but lest others should follow their evil example, I will have vengeance on the slanderers. Name them, and their doom shall be indeed a terrible one." Then Mana Kanaka told the king the whole sad story; and when it was ended the wicked woman who had first thought of injuring the queen, and the barber who had helped her, were sent for to hear their doom, which was---to be shut up for the rest of their lives in prison. This was changed to two years only, because Kadali-Garbha was generous enough to plead for them. As for the third person in the plot, the old witch of the cave, not a word was said about her by anybody. Mana Kanaka knew well enough what her share in the matter had been; but magicians and witches are careful not to make enemies of each other, and so he held his peace. Dridha-Varman was so grateful to his father-in-law for bringing his wife back to him, that he wanted him to stop at court, and said he would give him a very high position there. But Mana Kanaka refused every reward, declaring that he loved his little home in the forest better than the grand rooms he might have had in the palace. "All I wish for," he said, "is my dear child's happiness. I hope you will never again listen to stories against your wife. If you do, you may be very sure that I shall hear of it; and next time I know that you have been unkind to her I will punish you as you deserve." The king was obliged to let Mana Kanaka go, but after this he took Kadali-Garbha to see her father in the forest very often. Later, when the queen had some children of her own, their greatest treat was to go to the little home, in the depths of the wood. They too learnt to love animals, and had a great many pets, but none of those pets were kept in cages. 17. What is the chief lesson to be learnt from this story? 18. Which of all the people in this tale do you like best? 19. What do you think is the greatest power in all the world? 20. If you had been Kadali-Garbha would you have forgiven those who tried to do you harm? NOTES [1] The city which occupied the site of present Patna was known as Patali-Putra in the time of Alexander the Great. [2] There are seventy-two versions of this tale in vogue amongst the high castes of India; the one here given is taken from Raj-Yoga, the highest form of Hindu ascetic philosophy. 
17711	----	[Frontispiece: ZAFAR.] HINDUSTANI LYRICS RENDERED FROM THE URDU BY INAYAT KHAN AND JESSIE DUNCAN WESTBROOK _Sufism is the Religious Philosophy of Love, Harmony, and Beauty_ LONDON: THE SUFI PUBLISHING SOCIETY, LTD., 86, LADBROKE ROAD, LONDON, W. 11. _All rights reserved._ 1919 CONTENTS. PORTRAIT OF ZAFAR FOREWORD URDU LYRICS:-- ABRU AMIR ASIF DAGH FIGHAN GHALIB HALI HASAN INSHA JURAT MIR MIR SOZ MIR TAQI MOMIN MUSHAFI MUZTAR NASIKH SAUDA SHAMSHAD TABAN WALI YAKRANG ZAFAR ZAHIR ZAUQ FRAGMENTS:-- ARZU GHALIB HATIM MAZHAR MIR DARD MIR SOZ MIR TAQI SAUDA TABAN GLOSSARY FOREWORD. Of the many languages of India, Urdu (Hindustani) is the most widely known, especially in Upper India. Both as a written and a spoken language it has a reputation throughout Asia for elegance and expressiveness. Until the time of Muhammad Shah, Indian poetry was written in Persian. But that monarch, who mounted the throne of Delhi in 1719, greatly desired to make Urdu the vogue, and under his patronage and approval, Hatim, one of his ministers, and Wali of the Deccan, wrote Diwans in Urdu. This patronage of poets was continued by his successors, and exists indeed to the present day; and the cultivation of Urdu poetry has always been encouraged at the many Courts of India. Some of the Indian Rulers are themselves poets, and find their duty and pleasure in rewarding with gifts and pensions the literary men whose works they admire. The Court of Hyderabad has for long had a circle of poets: the late Nizam was himself eminent as a writer of verse. The Maharaja-Gaekwar of Baroda is a generous patron of literary men, and the present Rulers of lesser States such as Patiala, Nabha, Tonk, and Rampur, are deeply interested in the cultivation of poetry in their Dominions. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries many towns in India had extensive and flourishing literary coteries, and it is from the poets of that period that this handful of verses is gathered. The Mushaira--a poetical concourse, wherein rival poets meet to try their skill in a tournament of verse--is still an institution in India. Delhi, Agra, Lucknow, Lahore, Cawnpore, Allahabad, Benares, Calcutta, and Hyderabad, have all been, and some still are, nests of singing birds. Of the extent of Urdu literature some idea may be gained from the fact that a History of it written about 1870 gives the names of some three thousand authors, and that Tazkiras or anthologies containing selections from many poets are very numerous. The poetry is very varied and of great interest. It includes moral verses and counsels, sometimes in intermingled verse and prose; heroic poems telling the old tales of the loves of Khusru and Shirin, of Yusuf and Zuleika, of Majnun and Leila, and the romances of chivalry; elegies on the deaths of Hasan and Hussein, and of various monarchs; devotional poems in praise of Muhammad and the Imams; eulogies of the reigning Ruler or other patron or protector of the poor; satires upon men and institutions, sometimes upon Nature herself, specially upon such phenomena as heat, cold, inundations and pestilence; descriptive verse relating to the seasons and the months, the flowers and the trees. Above all there is a great wealth of love poetry, both secular and mystic, where, in impassioned ghazals or odes, the union of man with God is celebrated under various allegories, as the bee and the lotus, the nightingale and the rose, the moth and the flame. Most of the poets represented in this book write as Sufis, or Muslim mystics, and scoff at the unenlightened orthodox. For them God is in all and through all, to be worshipped equally in the Kaaba and in the Temple of the Idols, or too great to be adored adequately through the ritual of any creed. He is symbolized as the beautiful and cruel Beloved, difficult to find, withdrawn behind the veil, inspiring and demanding all worship and devotion. The Lover is the Madman, derided by the unsympathetic crowd, but happy in his ecstatic despair. He drinks the wine of love and is filled with a divine intoxication. For him this world is Maya--illusion, and the true life is that which is unmanifest. He finds no abiding place in this mortal caravan-serai, this shifting House of Mirrors; for his Soul is ever passing forward on the high Quest. Knowledge and skill are as dust, and self as nothing, compared with the Love that goads and urges him on. As a language, Urdu has a most composite ancestry, and comprises elements derived from the original languages of India, from Sanskrit, the tongue of the Aryan invaders, from Persian, from Turkish, from Kurdish and other Tartar tongues, from Arabic, even from Egyptian and Abyssinian; and later from such very foreign sources as Portuguese, Dutch, French, and English. The political phases through which India has successively passed have left their record in this hybrid character of the language. The process of its evolution really began long before the Christian era, when Sanskrit--the language of the Aryan conquerors--began to commingle with the languages of the peoples in Upper India, or Hindustan. From this union came the prakrits, or vernaculars. The one which at the time of the Buddha was current in Magadha--parts of the present British Behar and Orissa and the United Provinces of Agra and Oudh--was known as Magdhi, and the message delivered by the great Teacher was recorded in that vernacular. This spread rapidly with the growth of Buddhism, and became the court and official language of a large part of Upper India. The language which was developed in the north and north-west was called at first by the simple name Bhasha (Bhakha), which means the usual tongue, but later took the name of Hindi, and is written in the Sanskrit (Deva-nagari) character. At the beginning of the eighth century the Muslims appeared as conquerors in India. Mahmoud of Ghuzni, about 1,000 A.D., won great victories, and from that time Bhasha began to be modified in the towns. Four centuries later Tamerlane of the Mogul race entered India and took Delhi, laying the foundation of the Empire definitely established by Babar in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Hindi became saturated with Persian, itself already laden with many Arab words introduced through conquest and religion. The market of the army was established round Delhi, and bore the Tartar name of Urdu, which means horde or army, and thus, camp. It was especially at Delhi, after its rebuilding by Shah Jehan and its growth into the metropolis and literary and commercial and military centre, that the hybrid tongue took definite shape; it was named Zaban-i-urdu (literally, the language of the army) or simply Urdu, and was written in the Persian character. Even in its infancy it manifested a wealth of poetic inspiration derived from its varied ancestry. The poets from whose work the lyrics in this book have been selected were mostly writers of voluminous Diwans, and they occupied various and diverse stations in life. Some were Rulers, some soldiers, some darweshes (devotees), some men of letters only. The name given is in each case the takhallus (pen-name); each has some special significance, as Sauda, the folly of love, Momin, the believer, Zafar, the victorious; and frequently this name is introduced, by way of signature, into the closing stanza of a poem. ABRU: born at Lucknow, lived at Delhi, was a darwesh of the Order of Kalenders, and wrote an Urdu Diwan much appreciated for the ingenious allegories in which it abounds. AMIR: Amir Minai of Rampur, one of the best poets of the latest period: a great mystical poet: his Qasidahs for Muhammad are sung by devotees: Court poet of Rampur: travelled to Mecca and Medina, and, after the death of his patron, Nawab Kalbe Ali Khan, came to Hyderabad on hearing of the Nizam's fame and interest in poetry: rival of Dagh, by whose side he lies buried in Hyderabad. ARZU: a poet of Gwalior, where he held an important Government post in the days of Shah Alam II. (r. 1759-1806). He wrote his poems mostly in Persian, and was the author of a Dictionary of Mystical words. ASIF: pen-name of H.H. Mir Mahbub Ali Khan, Nizam of Hyderabad, who died in 1911: pupil of the poet Dagh (q.v.) and was an esteemed poet, and patron of poets. DAGH: a court poet of Rampur: went to Hyderabad and became the teacher of the Nizam in poetry (see Asif): lived there in great honour as Poet Laureate, and was given the title of Fasih-ul-Mulk (the eloquence of the nation): his poetry is described as natural and graceful in expression: his proficiency was so great that no poet could stand against him in the Mushaira: he was of extraordinary wit. FIGHAN: of Delhi: was the foster-brother of the Emperor Ahmad Shah (r. 1748-1754) and was one of the principal officers at the Imperial Court: famous for his piquant and witty conversation, and greatly skilled in jeux de mots, at which he spent his days and nights. GHALIB: came of a distinguished Turk family of Samarkand: wrote in Persian as well as in Urdu, and held the position of Poet Laureate at the Court of Bahadur Shah (r. 1837-1857) the last Mogul Emperor. HALI: a modern poet: pupil of Ghalib: recently dead: greatly admired, chiefly by the Muslims, for his poems calling for Muslim and Indian renascence. He received from the British Government the title of Shams-ul-ulema. HASAN: Mir Shulam Hasan, born at Delhi: passed his youth in Faizabad and then came to Lucknow to join the literary circle there: was as handsome in person as in mind, and his verse is still popular. HATIM: one of the early poets: born about 1700, he lived till near the end of the century: a soldier by profession, but in his old age renounced the world and became a darwesh: his cell was near the gate of the Imperial Palace, and many persons resorted to him for counsel. INSHA: born in Murshedabad, lived in Lucknow about the end of the 18th century: enjoyed the favour of Prince Suleiman Shikoh: wrote verse in Turkish, Arabic, Persian, but was most famous for his Urdu poems, which are elegant in style and conception. JURAT: of Delhi, celebrated for his skill in music, astronomy and poetry: became blind when still young: was pensioned by the Nawab Muhabbat Khan and afterwards by Suleiman Shikoh: author of an enormous volume of Urdu poetry composed of ghazals and of love-poems in the modern taste. Wrote satires on the rain, the cold, smallpox, etc. Versed in Hindu as well as Muslim poetry. MAZHAR: of Delhi: family originally from Bokhara: learned in jurisprudence as well as poetry: many favourite poets were his pupils: was a Sunni, made profession of spiritual poverty, and was even reputed to be able to work miracles: was killed by a fanatic because he disagreed with the Shiah mourning for the death of Hussein: died in 1780, aged nearly a hundred years. MIR DARD: author of a famous Urdu diwan: skilled in the sacred music as sung at the assemblies of the Sufis: lived the life of a sage, the Padishah often coming to him for counsel, though he himself never sought the Emperor's Court. MIR SOZ: of Bokhari ancestry, had to leave his country in time of peril in the dress of a fakir: came to Lucknow, where he became tutor to the Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula. MIR TAQI: born at Agra, in his later days lived at Lucknow, under the protection of the Nawab of Oudh: wrote many kinds of verse, but excelled in the ghazal and the masnawi, and was the author of a biography of poets: wrote his own autobiography in Persian, and also Persian poetry. MOMIN: of Delhi: author of six long masnawis: skilled in medicine, astronomy and astrology, and deeply read in poetry: at first lived a gay and reckless life, in his old age gave himself to prayer and fasting, and acquired great contemporary fame: his work is considered to be the most delicate flower of Urdu expression. MUSHAFI: belonged to a distinguished family of Amroha: lived at first at Lucknow, then went to Delhi: there he held famous literary reunions, at which gathered many poets of whom he was the inspirer and teacher. MUZTAR: born and educated at Lucknow: his ancestors occupied an honourable rank at Delhi: was a pupil of Mushafi. NASIKH: of Calcutta: belonged to the latter half of the 19th century: Deputy Magistrate and Member of the Legislative Council of Bengal. SAUDA: born at Delhi about 1720: a soldier by profession: much esteemed in his lifetime, and was a favourite at Court: excelled in all kinds of poetry, chiefly the ghazal, the qasidah, and satire. TABAN: of Delhi: as famous for his beauty as for his poetic talent: pupil of Hatim, and was a friend of Mazhar and Sauda: was descended from the Prophet on both father's and mother's side. WALI: of the Deccan, the first to write an Urdu Diwan: is considered the Father of Urdu poetry: born at Aurungabad, wrote in the latter half of the 17th century. He held a just balance between Sunnis and Shiahs, and did not flatter any Ruler in his verses. He knew the literature and art of Europe and wrote many mystical and spiritual poems. YAKRANG: one of the officers of the Emperor Muhammad Shah (r. 1719-48): lived in dignity and honour at Delhi. ZAHIR: a well-known modern poet, lived at Rampur at the Court of Nawab Kalbe Ali Khan, afterwards at the Court of the Nawab of Tonk, and finally at Hyderabad, in the literary circle of the Nizam, by whom he was much appreciated and rewarded. ZAUQ: a celebrated poet at the Court of Bahadur Shah (r. 1837-57): was his teacher in the arts of verse: compiler of an anthology Of poems: is said to have written one hundred thousand verses: is still highly popular and much quoted. ZAFAR: or Bahadur Shah, was the Padishah of Delhi, the last Mogul Emperor, and lived 1768-1862: son of Akbar II.: was over 60 years of age when he came to the throne: himself a poet and a good judge of music and painting, he gathered round him literary men and artists: of fine countenance and distinguished manners, and extremely loved and admired by his subjects: skilled in all kinds of poetry, and some of his ghazals continue to be popular: author of a voluminous Diwan, and a Commentary on the Gulistan of Saadi: a clever caligraphist, wrote with his own hand passages from the Koran for the ornamentation of the principal Mosque of Delhi. His son Dara was also a poet. At the Mutiny in 1857 he was taken prisoner and sent to Rangoon: there he continued to write verses, and died at an advanced age. His portrait, which forms the frontispiece to this book, is from a miniature kindly lent by the Indian Section of the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington. J.D.W. Dulwich Village, London. October, 1918. I. Thou tak'st no heed of me, I am as naught to thee; Cruel Beloved, arise! Lovely and languid thou, Sleep still upon thy brow, Dreams in thine eyes. From out thy garment flows Fragrance of many a rose-- Airs of delight Caught in the moonlit hours Lying among the flowers Through the long night. Look on my face how pale! Will naught my love avail? Naught my desire? Hold it as gold that is Cleansed of impurities Tried in the fire. Pity my heart distrest, Caught by that loveliest Tress of thine hair, So that I fear the shade Even by thine eyebrows made O'er eyes so fair. ABRU. II. Thou, Sorrow, wilt keep and wilt cherish the memory of me Long after my death, For thou dwelt at my heart, and my blood nourished thee, Thou wert warmed by my breath. My heart has disgraced me by clamour and wailing for years And tossing in pain, Mine eyes lost their honour by shedding these torrents of tears Like fast-falling rain. O Wind of Disaster, destroy not the home of my heart With the blasts of thine ire, For there I have kindled to burn in a chamber apart My Lamp of Desire. AMIR. III. Had I control o'er her, the dear Tormentor, Then might I rest; I cannot govern her, nor can I master The heart within my breast. I cast myself upon the ground in anguish Wounded and sore, Yet longed to have two hearts that she might pierce them, That I might suffer more. Utterly from her heart hath she erased me, No marks remain, So there shall be no grave from which my ashes May greet her steps again. O cruel One, when once your glances smote me, Why turn your head? It were more merciful to let their arrows Pierce me and strike me dead. No tomb, Amir, could give my dust oblivion, No rest was there: And when they told her I had died of sorrow, She did not know--nor care. AMIR. IV. This Life is less than shadows; if thou yearn To know and find the God thou worshippest, From all the varying shows of being turn To that true Life which is unmanifest. Beware, O travellers, dangerous is Life's Way With lures that call, illusion that deceives, For set to snare the voyagers that stray Are fortresses of robbers, lairs of thieves. The seer's eyes look on the cup of wine And say--We need no more thy drunkenness; An exaltation that is more divine, Another inspiration, we possess. O praise not peacock youth; it flits away And leaves us but the ashes of regret, A disappointed heart, a memory, An empty foolish pride that lingers yet. Upon the path, Amir, we journey far, Weary the road where mankind wandereth; O tell me, does it lead through Life's bazar, Or is it the dread gate and house of Death? AMIR. V. Here can my heart no longer rest; It tells my happy destiny, Towards Medina lies my quest, The Holy Prophet summons me. I should not marvel if for flight Upon my shoulders wings should start, My body is so gay and light With this new gladness in my heart. My weary patience nears its end; Unresting heart, that yearns and loves, Convey me far to meet my friend Within Medina's garden groves. My spirit shall not faint nor tire, Although by many tender bands My country holds me, I desire The journey through the desert sands. By day and night forever now I burn in Love's hot furnace breath, Although there gather on my brow The cold and heavy sweats of death. And ever in my home in Hind At dawn's first light, at evenfall, I hear upon the desert wind The Prophet of Arabia call. AMIR. VI. The light is in mine eyes, Within my heart I feel Thy joy arise, From gate to inmost shrine This palace of my soul is utterly Thine. O longing seeking eyes, He comes to you in many a varied guise, If Him you cannot find The shame be yours, O eyes that are so blind. I as His mirror glow Bearing His image in my heart, and know That glowing clear in His The image of my heart reflected is. O drink the Wine of Love, And in the Assembly of Enlightened move, Let not the darkness dim Fall like a curtain 'twixt thy soul and Him. Who gives away his soul Forgets his petty self and wins the whole, Losing himself outright He finds himself in the Eternal Light. Crazy art thou, Amir, To wait before His gate in hope and fear; For never in thy pain Shall He yield up thy ravished heart again. AMIR. VII. How can I dare profess I am the lover whom Thou dost prefer! Thou art the essence of all loveliness, And I Thy very humblest worshipper. Upon the Judgment Day So sweet Thy mercy shall to sinners prove, That envying them even the Saints shall say-- Would we were sinners thus to know Thy love! When in the quest for Thee The heart shall seek among the pious throng, Thy voice shall call--If Thou desirest me Among the sinners I have dwelt for long. At the great Reckoning Mighty the wicked who before Thy throne Shall come for judgment; little can I bring, No store of good nor evil deeds I own. Among the thorns am I A thorn, among the roses am a rose, Friend among friends in love and amity, Foe among foes. AMIR. VIII. I shall not try to flee the sword of Death, Nor fearing it a watchful vigil keep, It will be nothing but a sigh, a breath, A turning on the other side to sleep. Through all the close entanglements of earth My spirit shaking off its bonds shall fare And pass, and rise in new unfettered birth, Escaping from this labyrinth of care. Within the mortal caravan-serai No rest and no abiding place I know, I linger here for but a fleeting day, And at the morrow's summoning I go. What are these bonds that try to shackle me? Through all their intricate chains my way I find, I travel like a wandering melody That floats untamed, untaken, on the wind. From an unsympathetic world I flee To you, your love and fellowship I crave, O Singers dead, Sauda and Mushafi, I lay my song as tribute on your grave. AMIR. IX. Of no use is my pain to her nor me: For what disease is love the remedy? My heart that may not to her love attain Is humble, and would even crave disdain. O traitrous heart that my destruction sought And me to ruin and disaster brought! As, when the chain of life is snapt in twain, Never shall it be linked, so ne'er again My utterly broken heart shall be made whole. I cannot tear the Loved One from my soul, Nor can I leave my heart that clings to her. O Asif, am I not Love's minister! Who has such courage in Love's ways to dare! What heart like mine such bitterness can bear! ASIF. X. The eyes of the narcissus win new light From gleams that in Thy rapturous eyes they trace, The flame is but a moth with fluttering flight Drawn by the lovelier lustre of Thy face. This shifting House of Mirrors where we dwell Under Thy charm a fairy palace seems: Who hath not fallen tangled in Thy spell Beguiled by visions, wandering in dreams! The hearts of all Thy captive lovers stray Hither and thither driven by whims of Thine, Sometimes within the Kaaba courts to pray, Sometimes to worship at the Idols' Shrine. O Asif, thou hast known such grief and shame, Shrinking beneath the cruel scourge of Love, That all the earth will hail thee with acclaim As most courageous of the sons thereof. ASIF. XI. When shall the mocking world withhold its blame, When shall men cease to darken thus my name, Calling the love which is my pride, my shame! O Judge, let me my condemnation see; Whose names are written on my death decree?-- The names of all who have been friends to me. What hope to reach the Well-Beloved's door, The dear lost dwelling that I knew of yore; I stumbled once; I can return no more. The joy of love no heart can feel alone, The fire of love at first unseen, unknown, In flames of love from either side is blown. O Asif, tread thy pathway carefully Across this difficult world; for, canst thou see, A further journey is awaiting thee. ASIF. XII. I ask that God in justice punish me With death, if my love waver or grow less; Faithful am I indeed-- How can you comprehend such faithfulness? To you alone I offer up my heart, To any other what have I to give? No light demand I make, What answer will you grant that I may live? If on the last dread Day of Reckoning I think of you, and in my heart there shine The beauty of your face, God's Beatific Vision shall be mine. Once I had friends, now none are left to me; I see none else but you, because my heart Has wholly fled to you, And thus I walk the ways of Earth apart. I, Asif, am the chief of sinners held, This dark dishonour will I not deny, But glory in my shame; Where is another sinner such as I? ASIF. XIII. O changing Wheel of Fate, still let there last Before our eager eyes, still let there burn, This vision of the world; when we have passed There shall be no return. I thought that, leaving thee, rest would be mine, My lost tranquillity I might regain, But separation brings no anodyne, And kills me with its pain. How can I traffic in Love's busy mart? Thou hast won from me more than stores of gold; That I may bargain, give me back the heart Thy cruel fingers hold. O heart desirous, in Love's perilous way Thy journey take and in his paths abide, And thou mayst find perchance, lest thou should stray, Awaiting thee, a guide. DAGH. XIV. O Weaver of Excuses, what to thee Are all the promises that thou hast made, The truth derided, and the faith betrayed, And all thy perfidy? Sometimes thou sayest--Come at eventide: And when the evening falls, thou sayest--Dawn Was when I called thee. Even when night is gone I wait unsatisfied. When in thy haughty ear they did commend Me as the faithfullest of all thy train, Thou saidst--I hold such lovers in disdain, I scoff at such a friend. O Mischief-maker, passing-on thy way So lovely is thy mien, all creatures must Cry out--It is debarred to things of dust To walk so winningly. Why shouldst thou keep from tyranny anew? Why shouldst thou not betray another one? What matter if he die? Thou hast but done What thou wast born to do. Who cares not for his heart nor for his creed Is the idolater. His worthless name Is Dagh. O Fair Ones, look upon his shame! He is disgraced indeed. DAGH. XV. Thy love permits not my complaint to rise, It reaches to my lips, and then it dies. Now, helpless heart, I cannot aid thee more, And thus for thee God's pity must implore. Seest thou not how much disgrace and pain The scornful world has heaped upon us twain, On thee for beauty and the sins thereof, On me for this infirmity of love. Oft-times she will not speak to me at all, Or if she deign to speak, the words that fall Cold from her haughty lips are words of blame: --I know thee not--I have not heard thy name! Deep in my memory was graved the trace Of all I suffered since I saw thy face; But now, Beloved, thou hast come to me, I have erased the record utterly. With empty hands all mortal men are whirled Through Death's grim gate into the other world: This is my pride that it is granted me To carry with me my desire for thee. They say when I complain of all I bore --It is thy kismet, what would'st thou have more? My rivals also bear thy tyranny, Saying--It is her custom and must be! DAGH. XVI. I met you and the pain of separation was forgot, And all I should have kept in mind my heart remembered not. What cruelty and scorn I in your bitter letters knew! No love was there; O Gracious One, have you forgotten too? Strange is the journey that my soul by wanton Love was led, Two steps were straight and clear, and four forgotten were instead. There was some blundering o'er my fate at the Great Reckoning; You have forgot, O Keeper of the Record, many a thing. You took my heart, but left my life behind: O see you not What thing you have remembered, and what thing you have forgot? To meet Annihilation's sword is the most happy lot That man can gain, for all the joys of earth has he forgot. A Muslim on the path of Love beside a Kafir trod, And one forgot the Kaaba, one the Temple of his God. DAGH. XVII. What happiness is to the lover left Of peace bereft, What freedom for his captive heart remains Held in her chains? Sometimes unto the mountain peaks he goes Driven by his woes, Sometimes within the barren wilderness Hides his distress. Curses on Love, and may his home disgraced Be laid in waste! To me the world and all the joys I sought Are less than naught. Gladly, O Executioner, to Death I yield my breath; And only wonder who shall after me Thy victim be! FIGHAN. XVIII. If you should meet the Loved One as you stray, O give my letter secretly to her, Then haste away And do not tell my name, O Messenger. O Morning Winds that from the garden blow, Should you meet one like me forlorn and sad, On him bestow The peace and solace I have never had. O Eyes that weep and weep unsatisfied, That shed such floods, yet never find relief, O stem your tide Lest you should drown the world in seas of grief. She need not have one anxious doubt of me, She need not fear my further wanderings-- How can I flee? How can a bird escape, deprived of wings? FIGHAN. XIX. How difficult is the thorny way of strife That man hath stumbled in since time began, And in the tangled business of this life How difficult to play the part of man. When She decrees there should exist no more My humble cottage, through its broken walls, And cruelly drifting in the open door, The frozen rain of desolation falls. O mad Desire, why dost thou flame and burn And bear my Soul further and further yet To the Beloved; then, why dost thou turn To bitter disappointment and regret? Such light there gleams from the Beloved's face That every eye becomes her worshipper, And every mirror, looking on her grace, Desires to be the frame enclosing her. Unhappy lovers, slaves of cruel chance, In this grim place of slaughter strange indeed Your joy to see unveiled her haughty glance That flashes like the scimitar of Ede. When I had hardly drawn my latest breath, Pardon she asked for killing me. Alas, How soon repentance followed on my death, How quick her unavailing sorrow was! GHALIB. XX. I grant you will not utterly forget, I hold you not unheeding and unjust, But ere you hear my prayer I shall be dead and turned to senseless dust. How little can one eager sigh attain To touch thine icy heart to tenderness! Who can live long enough To win the beauty of thy curling tress? GHALIB. XXI. The high ambition of the drop of rain Is to be merged in the unfettered sea; My sorrow when it passed all bounds of pain, Changing, became itself the remedy. Behold how great is my humility! Under your cruel yoke I suffered sore; Now I no longer feel thy tyranny I hunger for the pain that then I bore. Why did the fragrance of the flowers outflow If not to breathe with benediction sweet Across her path? Why did the soft wind blow If not to kiss the ground before her feet? GHALIB. XXII. I had a thousand desires, for each of them I would have died, And what did I gain? So many indeed are fulfilled, but how many beside Insatiate remain! We have known of the tale of how Adam to exile was driven; More shameful in truth Is my fate to be cast from the garden more favoured than Heaven Where she walks in her youth. That living and dying in love are but one I have proved, This only know I That I live by the sight of the beauty of her the Beloved For whom I would die. GHALIB. XXIII. How long will she thus stand unveiled before me, Shrinking and shy in maidenly distress, How long, my dazzled eyes, can ye contemplate Her blinding loveliness! No rest is for my heart by love tormented, It cannot even win the peace of death; How long shall it endure with resignation The pain it suffereth! Like shifting shadows come the great and mighty, And live their splendid day, and hurry past; And who can tell how long the changing pageant Of fleeting life shall last! O look on me, unhappy Asif, driven As dust before the wind across the street; How long has Love ordained that I should suffer Beneath the passing feet. GHALIB. XXIV. THE WIDOW. I call on Death, for Life is my distress, And I myself a load of weariness Weighing upon myself. Helpless am I; Dared I to weep, then never would run dry The fountains of my grief: I cannot speak: Even the occupation that I seek Goads me and wearies me. A jungle drear This world and all its moving crowds appear, And I the loneliest of all things on Earth, Yea, lonely in the household of my birth. Tired am I of my suffering through the years, Even as mine eyes are wearied of their tears. Spring comes again and brings the cooling breeze, And Autumn with the rain among the trees, Fair Summer with its moonlit nights of gold, And Winter with its sweet and gentle cold; These come and go, with morn and even-fall, How can I tell how I have passed them all? Well, I have borne them all! Hope gleamed awhile, but fled unsatisfied, The flower sprang up, but drooped and fruitless died: The silver bow of Ede shone above all, But never came the looked-for Festival: I saw the splendour of the season wane, Never the benediction of the rain Fell on my parched heart: the thunder loud Pealed from the bosom of the darkened cloud, But never came the long-desired rain: I sought the fruit upon the tree in vain, The thorn smote deep into my heart instead: Across the desert wastes of sands I sped Seeing the silver watercourses gleam, But it was all a vision and a dream, And thirsting in the desert I was left Lone and bereft. HALI. XXV. Like silver torrents flow thy words to me, But ah--I have no voice to answer thee. My heart thy words have burnt with whips of fire, Do they not burn thy lips, O Heart's Desire? Thy promises are broken every day, Yet--See my faithfulness!--I hear you say. Candle-like wastes my body all these days My flame-like tongue endures to sing thy praise. O Hasan, I have spoke and sighed and sung, Yet never from my heart my tale was wrung, My secret grief can never find a tongue. HASAN. XXVI. I cannot rise to follow her, Here in the dust is my abode, For I am but her foot-print left Lying forgotten in the road. Where are repose and patience gone? Where is my honour, held so fair? All these are naught to me--I dwell In the black chambers of Despair! INSHA. XXVII. How can I win that Hidden One Who sits within the secret place? For even in my very dreams She wears the veil upon her face. What heart is there in all the world Can bear thy cruel tyranny? Keep then this broken heart of mine That thus thou mayst remember me! JURAT. XXVIII. What kind of comforter art thou to me? What help and solace in calamity? No wound is there upon my bruised heart But thou hast touched to make it sting and smart! But yet, Beloved One, I ask in pain When is the hour when thou wilt come again? My soul cries out to thee in bitter need --When wilt thou come--or wilt thou come indeed? O Saki, do not pass my goblet by, Although the feast is spread its lip is dry. Be careful, O my tears, lest you should tell The world my secret that you know too well. O Sorrow, in thy tangled paths I go, The Kaaba's gateway I no longer know, But bend my head wherever I see rise The arch that curves o'er the Beloved's eyes. MIR. XXIX. To whom shall I relate The weary story of my sorrowful love? O Friend, this is my fate, This is the record of the pain thereof. I prayed in vain to her; She said--You weary me, I hear thy prayer, It is thy messenger, But when it pleads with me I do not care. I said--Never again Canst thou forget my faithfulness to thee; She answered in disdain --What mean thy love and faithfulness to me? Life called to me Telling me earth is full of hope and bliss, Now undeceived I see How foolish I to seek a world like this. MIR SOZ. XXX. Even in the Kaaba courts my heart was moved, Brooding upon the idol that I loved, Mourning its loss. Now like a bird am I, That painted in a picture cannot fly Nor move nor sing; my heart is so outworn With all the lingering sorrow I have borne. Within my heart thy presence I have felt, Within mine eyes, Beloved, thou hast dwelt For long long days. Who taught thee for a shrine To choose a heart so desolate as mine? Long time I told my friends my bitter grief, And in the telling sought to find relief; In silence now instead I take my rest, And find that peace and loneliness are best. MIR TAQI. XXXI. Wherever the Beloved looks she stirs Trouble and longing sore and eager breath And deep desire in all her worshippers, And some for her have drunk the cup of Death. O Night of Separation, darkest night Of deepest grief, thy cruelty shall cease; To-morrow I shall greet the dawning light Within the city of Eternal Peace. O threatening Whirlwind rolling on thy way, I shall unloose thy knot, if thou but dare With angry gusts to toss and disarray A single curl of the Beloved's hair. Sometimes her beauty goads and maddens me, I cannot bear her cruel loveliness, But turn her mirror that she may not see; Why should I let her double my distress? Hearken, O Momin, all thy life is done! In idol-worship at the Temple thou Hast spent thy days, and thus thy years have run: How canst thou call thyself a Muslim now? MOMIN. XXXII. I, like a wandering bubble, Am blown here and there Shifting and changing and fashioned Of water and air. Thou turnest thy face, O Beloved, I cannot tell why, Art thou shy of a mirror, Beloved? Thy mirror am I! When over her face she unloosened The dusk of her hair, What need had the world of the cloud-wreaths, They fled in despair. MUSHAFI. XXXIII. No man hath ever passed Into the Country of Eternal Rest With every longing stilled. Who hath not lingering cast Long looks behind, and in his eager breast Held many a secret yearning unfulfilled? Ah, Mushafi, to thee Silence and thought in solitude are best, For thou hast known That laurel crowns are idle vanity; There is no worldly rank thou covetest, And what to thee is Suleiman's high throne? MUSHAFI. XXXIV. Where has my childhood gone, where are its placid years? For cruel youth hath brought passion and bitter tears. To the Creator now I from the dust complain-- Beauty, the thing he made, brings with it only pain. Long I desired and dreamed, waiting with eager breath, But ere she came to me, Fate sent the sleep of Death. To God as servitor I my devotion gave, Now Love hath taken me, bound me to be his slave. I, Muztar, die with grief, yearning unsatisfied, Still hangs the purdah's fold I cannot draw aside, Nor lift the needless veil woven of shame and pride. MUZTAR. XXXV. The fire of love I for my idol know Within my bosom hides, As in the mountain 'neath its crust of snow The flame abides. Long have I yearned in vain to kiss her feet, I lay my weary head Down in the dust, that thus my lips may greet Where she may tread. No wealth have I, but like the moth I live: Since love demands a price, I, like the moth, have but my life to give In sacrifice. How has my bird-like soul been stricken low, Pierced to the very heart! My love has used instead of bolt and bow A deadlier dart. NASIKH. XXXVI. The wound upon my heart glows bright and clear With such a steady and unwavering light That in the darkness I shall have no fear And need no lamp to guide my steps aright. When of the darkness of the grave I hear, The night of death, and all the pangs thereof, I reck not, for one thing alone I fear-- The night of separation from my Love. NASIKH. XXXVII. Shall I or shall I not console my heart And win relief? Or shall I sit in solitude apart Nursing my grief? O hear, while of my life now nearly done Some sparks remain! Soon I may be, who knows, O Cruel One, Speechless with pain. How can I to the fisher speak my thought? Her snares are set, My fish-like heart is by her lashes caught, As in a net. Look on my sorrowful mien, O Love, and tell My hopelessness, None of the manifold troubles that befell Can I express. Fair is the garden, Sauda, to thy view, More fair appears Her dwelling; let me all its ways bedew With happy tears. SAUDA. XXXVIII. I am no singer rapt in ecstasy, Nor yet a sighing listener am I, I am the nightingale that used to sing In joy, but now am mute, remembering. I know the drop within the ocean hides, But know not in what place my soul abides: I cannot read the hidden mystery-- Whence came I, whither go I, what am I. My friends have paid due reverence at my grave, And held my dust as sacred, for I gave My humble life to the Beloved's sword, Killed by her beauty, martyred by her word. I deemed life was tranquillity and rest, I find it but a never-ending quest; And I, who sat in quietude and peace, Toil on a journey that shall never cease. SHAMSHAD. XXXIX. Repent not, for repentance is in vain, And what is done is done; What shouldst thou reck of me and all my pain? For what is done is done. They said to her--Behold him, he is dead! How did he lose his life, unhappy one? --O bury him deep in the grave, she said, For what is done is done. This is the pain of love that I have caught, And what is done is done; A thousand remedies avail me naught, And what is done is done. For love I gave the honour of my name, And Good and Evil are to me as one; Let all the world chastise me with its blame, For what is done is done. The dust of Taban we could find no more, But yet nor rest nor respite hath he won; His breath, his soul, floats round thee as before, And--what is done is done. TABAN. XL. O Lovely One, when to the ravished sight Thou wilt unveil that radiant face of thine, Each atom of the worlds, catching thy light, Reflecting thee, bright as a sun shall shine. Walk not, my flower, within the garden close, Lest thou should give the bulbul new distress; For at thy glance each blossom turns a rose To lure him with her cruel loveliness. Victorious One, thou hast unsheathed thy sword, The scimitar of thy beauty gleams again, So over all thy lovers thou art Lord, Holding dominion in the hearts of men. Art thou serene and calm and unafraid When thou considerest thy tyranny? Think of the reckoning that shall be made Between thy heart and mine at Judgment Day. WALI. XLI. O ask not frigid Piety to dwell In the same house with Youth and warm Desire; It were as idle as if one should tell Water to be a comrade of the Fire. O say not only that the Loved One left My lonely heart, and fled beyond recall; But I of rest and patience am bereft, And losing Her I am deprived of all. Take heed, O Hunter, though within thy net Thou hold this bird, my soul, with many bands, I struggle sore, for Freedom lures me yet, And may escape from out thy cruel hands. YAKRANG. XLII. Thou shouldst have given to me the robe and crown And made me king of kings, Or dressed me in the tattered darwesh gown, Poorest of earthly things. O that I were thy fool to do thy will, Simple and led by thee! What meaning have my knowledge and my skill, They have no worth to me. Lo, thou hast made me as the dust that flies Unheeded in the street, O were I that which in her pathway lies, Trodden beneath her feet! My heart is as it were to fringes shred, Such wounds it had to bear; Would that it were the comb, to touch her head, To tend her perfumed hair! Long have I known that it was thy design To burn my soul outright; O may at least the happy fate be mine To be the Tavern light! ZAFAR. XLIII. Mine eyes were shut And yet I saw the shining vision gleam; Now that mine eyes are opened, know I not Was it a thought that held me--or a dream? Long to myself I said--It will be well, When I can see her, I will tell my pain: Now she is here, what is there left to tell? No griefs remain. Faithless she is to me, and pitiless, Despotic and tyrannical she is, I looked for love, I looked for tenderness, I leant on vain impossibilities. I listened to thy voice that stole to me Across the curtain where thou satst apart, Desire came like a restless ecstasy, A sorcery that fell upon my heart. When I had burst my prison, and was free, I saw no fetters held me, and I found, O Zafar, that these chains that shackle me Are ties of self wherewith my soul is bound. ZAFAR. XLIV. I care not if no rest nor peace remain, I have my cherished pain, I have my rankling love that knows no end, And need no other friend. I yearned with all my heart to hold her fast, She laughed, and fled, and passed! Lakhs of enchantments, scores of spells I wove, But useless was my love. I would have given my life to make her stay, She went away, away, she went away. Though I effaced myself in deed and thought And brought myself to naught, The dark and sundering curtain hangs between I cannot pierce the screen. And still I know behind the veil she hides, And naught besides In all this changing Universe abides! ZAFAR. XLV. That I should find her after weary years, And that mine eyes should keep from happy tears,-- That is not possible, this is not possible. If she should come after these many days, And if my wondering eyes forget to gaze-- That is not possible, this is not possible. Sometimes I long to kiss my idol's face, Sometimes to clasp her in my wild embrace-- That is not possible, this is not possible. How can I let her seek my rival's door, How can I bear the friends I loved before-- That is not possible, this is not possible. O Zafar, does she bid me to return, And dare I, for I tremble and I burn-- That is not possible, this is not possible. ZAFAR. XLVI. Whence did the yearning of the soul arise, The longing to attain the Heavenly Sight? Before what mortal eyes Was manifested the Eternal Light? When the soul understands and wakes to find Thou hast within the heart of man Thy throne, It sees how arrogant and blind The self that but its mortal self hath known. Thou and I also were the seer and seen, When none beside existed. Thou and I Have Lover and Beloved been Before this era of mortality. How strange the turns in Love's unending game, For neither Lover nor Beloved lit The ever-burning flame: Whence was the spirit that enkindled it? The road that leads where pious pilgrims bow In Kaaba or in Temple, Thou hast laid; And first of all wert Thou To tread the road that thou Thyself hadst made. ZAHIR. XLVII. Thy beauty flashes like a sword Serene and keen and merciless; But great as is thy cruelty, Even greater is thy loveliness. It is the gift of God to thee This beauty rare and exquisite; Why dost thou hide it thus from me, I shall not steal nor sully it. And as thy beauty shines, in Heaven There climbs upon its path of fire The star that lights my rival's way, And with it mounts his heart's desire. Even in thy house is jealousy, Thy youth demands the lover's praise Over thy beauty, which itself Is jealous of thy gracious ways. I died with joy when winningly I heard the Well-Beloved call-- Zahir, where is my beauty gone, Thou must have robbed me after all. ZAHIR. XLVIII. O Tyrannous One, when from my heart was drawn The fatal arrow, like a scarlet flood My life gushed forth; but yet the one word Hope Was written in my blood. Why should the Cosmos turn its wheel of worlds If not to search for thee eternally? Why should the tireless Sun arise each morn If not to look for thee? Alas my fate! before you came to me Already had I felt the touch of Death, Nor was I spared before thy worshipped feet To offer up my breath. For long, throughout the world, I sought for thee, Through weary years and ages of unrest; At last I found thee hidden in my arms Within my breast! ZAUQ. FRAGMENTS. Each morn I see the Sun in majesty Come back to shine thy rival as before, But O what ages has it taken thee To come to me--if thou wilt come--once more! ARZU. Through Love did I the joy of life attain, And walking in the way that He hath led I found the remedy to heal all pain; Why therefore is my pain unremedied? GHALIB. O burnish well the mirror of thy heart And make it fair, If thou desire the image of thy Love To shine reflected there. HATIM. No fault is thine, Beloved, I do not blame thee, Nor do I blame my rivals for their part, I know my trouble causeless, yet I hearken To my unreasonable, doubting heart. MAZHAR. What thou hast done, never an enemy Would practise on a bitterly-hated foe; And yet, my friend, I took thee for a friend, and did not know. MAZHAR. Mayhap my sorrowful heart Did not deserve thou shouldst bestow on me Thy priceless love, but neither did it merit Thy cruel tyranny. MAZHAR. She lightly laughed--And so is Mazhar dead? Alas, poor helpless one! I knew not I What was his trouble.--Then again she said --I did not think him ill enough to die. MAZHAR. If I behold her, I am mad, And if I see her not, I die; O Love, to tender hearts like mine Thou art a great calamity. MAZHAR. I ask for Allah's pardon, if I dare To weigh and criticise what He hath done; But when He made thy beauty shining fair, What need was there for Him to make the Sun? MIR DARD. In spring, O Bulbul, go not in thy grief To seek the garden, wandering apart; But wait--one day within thy very heart It shall arise, in bud and bloom and leaf. MIR SOZ. Some friend of mine, may be, After my lonely death may let her see How foolish were her idle doubts of me; But no! how can I think the rolling Wheel of Fate Should turn to favour one so long unfortunate? MIR TAQI. I, like a poor fakir, Wander from door to door, Bearing my load of pain; But thou, O Ever-Dear, Thou comest never more Unto my door again. SAUDA. O changing Wheel of Fate, what thing is there Thou hast not in thy myriad cycles brought! Wilt thou, indeed, I wonder in despair, Bring me at last what I so long have sought? SAUDA. I longed that the Beloved might come to me, Or Patience come and in my heart remain; But neither came, and now at last I see The only constant friend I have is Pain. TABAN. False is she, breaker of all promises, The heart's unending malady is she; All this and more she is, And she herself the only remedy. * * * * * Only in visions can I come again To the Beloved, and a shade she seems; My lips desire in vain The touch of ghostly kisses, The shadowy kisses that I know in dreams. * * * * * O kind imagination, thou hast given Eyes to my heart, and though She veil her grace Fold behind fold, they seek the hidden heaven, They find the secret beauties of her face. * * * * * I did not weep until my heart was lost, So strange the bartering of love appears, I gave the shining jewel of my soul To buy these pearls--my tears. * * * * * The eyes say in reproach, O wayward heart, What road of ruin hast thou led us in! The heart complains, O eyes, Beguiled yourselves, ye lured me into sin. GLOSSARY. Bazar--market place. Bulbul--nightingale. Darwesh--devotee, dervish. Diwan--collection of poems. Ede--festival. Fakir--an ascetic in Islam. Ghazal--ode: form of verse written in couplets, all in one rhyme. Hind, Hindustan--Upper India, north of the Vindhya Hills. Islam--The religion of Muslims: lit. absolute surrender to Allah alone. Kaaba--central sanctuary of Islam, at Mecca, holy city of Islam. Kafir--unbeliever, one who is not a Muslim. Kismet--fate. Lakh--100,000: myriad. Masnawi--epic poem, written in rhymed couplets. Mecca, Medina--sacred places of Islam, in Arabia: the birthplace and burial place of Muhammad. Muhammad--the Prophet of Islam (A.D. 570-632). Mushaira--poetical concourse (see Foreword p. 1.). Muslim--or Musulman; lit. one surrendered to Allah alone. Prophet--see Muhammad. Purdah--curtain. Qasidah--elegy or eulogy. Saki--the cup-bearer, wine-giver. Sufi--see Foreword, p. 2. Suleiman--Solomon, King of the Jews: in Muslim legend lord over angels and demons. Takhallus--pen-name. Urdu--see Foreword, p. 3. Works on Sufism. 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12918	----	Proofreaders Transcriber's note: The spelling inconsistencies of the original have been retained in this e-text. IRANIAN INFLUENCE ON MOSLEM LITERATURE, PART I by M. INOSTRANZEV TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN, WITH SUPPLEMENTARY APPENDICES FROM ARABIC SOURCES BY G. K. NARIMAN 1918 GENERAL CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Arabic Writers as Sources of Sasanian Culture 3 CHAPTER II. Parsi Clergy Preserve Tradition 25 CHAPTER III. Ethico-didactic Books of Arabs Exclusively of Iranian Origin 38 CHAPTER IV. Iranian Components of Arabic _Adab_ Literature 53 CHAPTER V. Pahlavi Books Studied by Arab Authors 65 CHAPTER VI. Arab Translators from Pahlavi 76 CHAPTER VII. Pahlavi Rushnar Nameh 89 APPENDICES (By the Translator). APPENDIX I. Independent Zoroastrian Princes of Tabaristan after Arab Conquest 93 APPENDIX II. Iranian Material in Mahasin wal Masawi and Mahasin wal Azdad 101 APPENDIX III. Burzoe's Introduction 105 APPENDIX IV. The Trial of Afshin, a Disguised Zoroastrian General 135 APPENDIX V. Noeldeke's Introduction to Tabari 142 APPENDIX VI. Letter of Tansar to the King of Tabaristan 159 APPENDIX VII. Some Arab Authors and the Iranian Material they preserve:-- The Uyunal Akhbar of Ibn Qotaiba 163 Jahiz: Kitab-al-Bayan wal Tabayyin 168 Hamza Ispahani 171 Tabari 174 Dinawari 177 Ibn al Athir 179 Masudi 182 Shahrastani 187 Ibn Hazm 192 Ibn Haukal 195 APPENDIX VIII. Ibn Khallikan 199 Mustawfi 203 Muqadasi 204 Thaalibi 205 PREFACE The facile notion is still prevalent even among Musalmans of learning that the past of Iran is beyond recall, that the period of its history preceding the extinction of the House of Sasan cannot be adequately investigated and that the still anterior dynasties which ruled vaster areas have left no traces in stone or parchment in sufficient quantity for a tolerable record reflecting the story of Iran from the Iranian's standpoint. This fallacy is particularly hugged by the Parsis among whom it was originally lent by fanaticism to indolent ignorance. It has been credited with uncritical alacrity, congenial to self-complacency, that the Arabs so utterly and ruthlessly annihilated the civilization of Iran in its mental and material aspects that no source whatever is left from which to wring reliable information about Zoroastrian Iran. The following limited pages are devoted to a disproof of this age-long error. For a connected story of Persia prior to the battle of Kadisiya, beside the Byzantine writers there is abundant material in Armenian and Chinese histories. These mines remain yet all but unexplored for the Moslem and Parsi, although much has been done to extract from them a chronicle of early Christianity. The archaeology of Iran, as I have shown elsewhere, can provide vital clue to an authentic resuscitation of Sasanian past. Pre-Moslem epigraphy of Persia is yet in little more than an inchoate condition. Not only all Central Asia but the territories marching with the Indian and Persian frontiers, where persecution of the elder faith could not have been relatively mild, the population professing Islam have been unable to abjure in their entirety rites and practices akin to those of Zoroastrianism. Within living memory the inhabitants of Pamir would not blow out a candle or otherwise desecrate fire. While science cannot recognise the claims of any individual professing to have studied esoteric Zoroastrianism hidden in the hill tracts of Rawalpindi, the myth has a value in that it indicates the direction in which humbler and uninspired scholars may work. These regions and far beyond, teem with pure Iranian place-names to this day; and you meet in and around even the Peshawar district individuals bearing names of old Iranian heroes which, if the theory of persecution-mongers be correct, would be an anathema to the bigoted followers of Muhammad. * * * * * It is, above all, Arabic literature which upsets the easy fiction of total destruction of Iranian culture by the Arabs. In its various departments of history, geography and general science Arabic works incorporate extensive material for a history of Iranian civilization, while Arabic poetry abounds in references to Zoroastrian Iran. The former is illustrated by Professor Inostranzev's pioneer Russian essay of which the main body of this book is a translation. The Appendices are intended to be supplementary and to be at once a continuation and a possible key--continuation of the researches of the Russian scholar and key to the contemned store-house of Arabic letters. Professor Inostranzev is in little need of introduction to English scholars. He has already been made known in India by the indefatigable Shams-ul-Ulma Dr. Jivanji Modi, Ph.D., C.I.E., who got translated, and commented on, his Russian paper on the curious _Astodans_ or receptacles for human bones discovered in the Persian Gulf region. He shares with Professor Browne of Cambridge and the great M. Blochet a unique scholarly position: he combines an intimate knowledge of Avesta civilization with a familiarity with classical Arabic. It is not wilfully to ignore the claims of Goldziher, Brockelmann or Sachau or the Dutch savants de Goeje and Van Vloten. Deeply as they investigated Arabic writings, it was M. Inostranzev who first revealed to us the worth of Arabic: he unearthed chapters embedded in Arabic books which are paraphrase or translation of Pahlavi originals. He had but one predecessor and that was a countryman of his, Baron Rosen. * * * * * In preparing the Appendices, which are there to testify to the value of Arabic literature especially the annals and the branch of it called Adab, I have availed myself of the courtesy of various institutions and individuals. Bombay, perhaps the wealthiest town in the East where prosperous Musalmans form a most important factor of its population, has not one public library containing any tolerable collection of Arabic books edited in Europe. Time after time wealthy Parsis whose interest I enlisted have received from me lists of books to form the nucleus of an Arabic library but apparently they need some further stimulus to appreciate how indispensable Arabic is for research into Iranian antiquities. The Bombay Government have expended enormous sums in collecting Sanskrit manuscripts--a most laudable pursuit--and have published a series of admirable texts edited by some of the eminent Sanskrit scholars, Western and Indian. But the numerous Moslem Anjumans do not appear to have demonstrated to the greatest Moslem Power in the world, or its representative in Bombay, the necessity of a corresponding solicitude for Arabic and Persian treasures which undoubtedly exist, though to a lesser extent, in the Presidency. And what holds true of Bombay holds good in case of the rest of India. Some of the libraries in Upper India in Hyderabad, Rampur, Patna, Calcutta possess along with manuscript material cheap mutilated Egyptian reprints of magnificent texts brought out in Leiden, Paris and Leipzig. Nowhere in India is available to a research scholar a complete set of European publications in Arabic, which a few thousand rupees can purchase. The state of affairs is due to Moslem apathy, politics claiming a disproportionate share of their civic energy, to Government indifference and to some extent Parsi supineness and prejudice which, despite the community's vaunted advancement, has failed to estimate at its proper worth their history as enshrined in the language of the pre-judged Arab. Moulvi Muhammad Ghulam Rasul Surti, of Bombay, himself a scholar, lent me from his bookshop expensive works which few private students could afford to buy. No western book-seller could have conceived a purer love of learning or a gaze less rigidly fixed on "business". Sir John Marshall, Director General of Archaeology in India, continued very kindly to permit me use of books after I had severed official connection with his library at Simla. Dr. Spooner who acted for him obligingly saw that as far as he was concerned no facilities were incontinently withdrawn from me at Benmore. I have particularly to thank the Librarian of the Imperial Library, Calcutta, who not only posted me books in his charge but went out of his way to procure me others. Mrs. Besant and her wealthy adherents have created at Adyar the atmosphere associated with the Ashramas and the seats of learning in ancient India so finely described by Chinese travellers. The Oriental Library there is unsurpassed by any institution in British or Indian ruled India. It is to be wished in the interests of pure scholarship that some one succeeds--I did not--in prevailing on the President of the Theosophical Society to lend books to scholars who may not be equal to the exertion of daily travelling seven miles from Madras to Adyar. Her insistence on a rigid imitation of British Museum rules in India, mainly because so many of the Theosophical fraternity cut out pages and chapters from books once allowed to be borrowed by them, inflicts indiscriminate penalty on honest research and seals up against legitimate use books nowhere else to be found in India. I reserve for the Second Part of this book some observations on the Russian language with reference to Orientalism, and Arabic and Persian literatures in particular. Only after the outbreak of the War some interest has been aroused in England in matters Russian generally and a number of grammars and dictionaries and other aids to the study of this most difficult language have recently been placed on the market for the use of students who only a brief three years ago had to depend mainly on German for acquisition of Russian. This neglect of Russian is wholly undeserved. It is doubtful if the researches into Oriental histories and literatures by the Russians have been yet adequately appreciated in England, the tireless efforts of Dr. Pollen and the Anglo-Russian Literary Society notwithstanding. It is apparently still presumed that ripe scholarship in Arabic and Sanskrit is inconceivable except through the medium of the languages of Western Europe. No unworthy disparagement of French labours is at all suggested. But it is only fair to Russia to remember in India that the absence of a Serg d'Oldenberg would leave a lacuna which must be felt in Buddhist Sanskrit; without Tzerbatski the Jain literature both Magadhi and Sanskrit would be appreciably poorer; and that the Continent has produced nothing to exceed the series of Buddhist Sanskrit texts of Petrograd, where was published the still largest Sanskrit lexicon. Naturally in the province of Chinese and Japanese the Russian Academy at Vladivostock stood _facile princeps_ till only the other day its magnificent rival was established in London under the direction of Dr. Denison Ross. An individual scholar like Khanikoff, who like most of his countrymen in the last century preferred to write in French, and a Zukovski has done more signal service to Persian antiquities than could be honestly attributed to many a German name familiar to Indian scholars. The distinguishing feature of the Russian investigator, devoted to the past of Persia, is his uncommon equipment. The Russian bring to their task a mature study of Semitic languages and acquaintance with Avesta philology. Arabic literature teems with allusions to the religions, dogma, customs and the court of Sasanian Iran. Once intended for contemporaries equally at home in the Arabic and Persian idioms these references have in course of time grown obscure to copyists who have mutilated Iranian names of persons and places and specific Zoroastrian terms which had become naturalised in the language of the ruling Arabs. It is scholars like Baron Rosen and Rosenberg who have adequately appreciated the value of Arabic texts in which are interwoven verbal translations of celebrated Pahlavi treatises. Two such have been disinterred by the industry and erudition of Inostranzev. This is the first book to be translated from Russian into English by an Indian and the obvious difficulties of the task may be pleaded to excuse some of the shortcomings of a pioneer undertaking. I look for my reward in on awakened interest in Arabic books which hold in solution more information on Persia than any set work on the history of Iran. It would not be in place to advert to the present state of hapless chaos in Persia. The most sympathetic outsider, however, cannot help observing that her misfortunes are less due to her neighbours and their mutual relations than to her too rapid political strides and adoption of exotic administrative machinery repugnant to the genius of the ancient nation. Whatever the attitude of individual Mullas towards non-Moslems in the past the central authority and the people as a whole are actuated to-day with a spirit of patriotism which is still the keynote of the character of Persia's noble manhood and womanhood. It declines to make religion the criterion of kinship. The inconsistency in the spelling of Arabic words has not altogether been avoidable being due partly to a desire to adhere to the orthography adopted by authors whom I have consulted. SIMLA, G.K. NARIMAN. September, 1917. CHAPTER I Iranian literary tradition in the opening centuries of Islam 1 The character of the Persian history during the Sasanian epoch 6 Importance of this epoch according to the Arab writers of the first centuries of Islam 10 The position of the Parsi community and the centres of the preservation of Persian tradition during the period of the Khalifat in Tabaristan, Khorasan and Fars 15 The castle of Shiz in the district of Arrajan in the province of Fars described by Istakhri, p. 118, 2-4; 150, 14-7; Ibn Hauqal, p. 189, 1-2; cf. the translator of the _Khoday Nameh_, Behram, son of Mardanshah of the city of Shapur in the province of Fars 19 This castle was the residence of those acquainted with the Iranian tradition (the _badhgozar_) and here their archives were lodged 20 _ARABIC WRITERS AS SOURCES OF SASANIAN CULTURE_. To the Iranian element belongs a very rich rôle in the external as well as the internal history of Islam. Its influence is obvious and constant in the history of the Moslem nations' spread over centuries. Whenever the circumstances have been favourable it has been clearly manifest; when the conditions have been hostile it is not noticeable at the first glance but in reality has been of great consequence. The causes of this are very complicated. And it is necessary on account of its universal value to examine a wide concatenation of facts. But from a general point of view there is no doubt that it has its roots principally in the continuity of the historical and cultural traditions. Particular significance attaches to the circumstance that just in the epoch preceding the Arab conquest Persia had experienced a period of national revival after the horrors that its sovereignty had undergone, at the hands, for instance, of Alexander the Great.[1] Therefore for the study of Iranian tradition in Islam the period of the Sasanian dynasty preceding the Arab conquest has a special significance. [Footnote 1: This is explained by the hatred given expression to in the Parsi tradition regarding Alexander. Comp. J. Darmesteter _La Legende de Alexandre chez les Parses. Essais Orientaux_, Paris 1883, pp. 227-251.] The Sasanian dynasty issuing from a small principality in the south of Persia--a principality which, properly speaking bears the title of the "kernel of the Persian nation"--occupies a considerable position in Persian history. Wide imperial aims were united with a plenitude of solid organisation of government so perfect that it passed into a proverb among the Arabs. In this last connection the Sasanian tradition survived for a long time a number of Moslem dynasties. The powerful influence which Iranian tradition exercised was felt by the Abbaside Khahlifs and after them by the Turkish Seljuks. But not only the science of government, a good deal of other matters of cultural and historical importance in the latter times have their explanation in the Sasanian epoch. Placed on the confines of the Greco-Roman world on the one hand, and China and India on the other, Sasanian Persia served during the course of a long time as a central mart of exchange of a mental as well as of a material nature. As against the Achaemenides, emulating the high Semitic culture of the West and the Hellenistic endeavours preceding the Parthian dynasty, the Sasanians pre-eminently were the promulgators of the Iranian principles. Alongside of this, however, although in a subordinate position, the development of the Hellenistic movement and the ancient Irano-Semitic syncretism continued to proceed. Simultaneously an ethical amalgamation proceeded especially in Western Persia where Semiticism was powerful for a lengthened period, Nevertheless, the Sasanians continued the unification of the Iranian inhabitants of central and western Persia. The political system of the Sasanian emperors[1] was based on this fusion. Before it pales the importance of the other facts regarding the political organisation of the Sasanians,--centralisation of government in a manner so that the elements of feudal constitution made themselves felt throughout the existence of the empire and even after the Arab conquest, when it left traces in circles representing Iranian traditions. [Footnote 1: On the constitution of the Sasanian government, see A. Christensen, _L'empire des Sasanides, le peuple, l'etat, la cour_, 1907.] The Iranophile tendencies which dominated the Sasanian epoch developed in intimate cooperation with the State religion (Mazdaism) and the Parsi priesthood. Among the latter continued the production of literary works. Besides, the redaction of the sacred books was completed in these times. Among them were conserved and propagated Persian ethical ideals, which found expression in literary forms, in ethico-didactic tracts, like those which we notice just in the same circles in later times. To the same end were preserved national traditions and ritual, some of which had nothing to do with Mazdaism. The ethical ideals of the church found strong support in the feudalistic circles comprising the larger and the smaller landholders, the _dehkans_ who, with particular zeal, preserved ancient heroic traditions. Alongside of these national currents in the Sasanian empire there operated in full force those factors of cultural exchange of which we spoke above. Of those factors the most important that deserve our attention are questions regarding education and instruction. In this connection, Sasanian Persia found itself under powerful influences from the West. There are sufficient reminiscences of neo-Platonic exiles from Greece at the Sasanian Court and of the school of medicine in which the leading part belonged to Hellenic physicians. At the same time in the same field we have to examine other influences. For Sasanian Persia did not remain stranger to the sciences of India. We have information regarding the renascence of the activity of the translators of scientific works into the Persian language and the tradition of this activity survived down to the Moslem times. In connection with this theoretical scientific activity stood high perfection in exterior culture issuing to a considerable degree from exchange of materials. And even here the Sasanian tradition has survived the dynasties; in the study of the commerce and industry as well as the art of the Moslem epoch we have necessarily to refer back to the preceding times of the Persian history. In pre-Moslem Arabia the high development of the civilisation of Sasanian Persia was well known. Among the subjects of the great Persian sovereigns in the western provinces of their empire there were a large number of Arabs who in commercial intercourse carried, to tribes of the Syrian desert and further south to the Arabian peninsula, reports regarding the great _Iran Shahar_. Not only legends of the heroic figures of the Iranian epic--Rustam and Isfandiar--but religious views and persuasions of the Persians found a place and were spread among the Arab clans. Thus we know that "fire-worshippers" were settled among the Arab tribe of the Temim.[1] [Footnote 1: _See_ for example Ibn Rustah (B.G.A. VII, p. 217, 6-9).] As regards the political influence of the Persians on the tribes of Arabia a vast deal has been related in the pre-Moslem epoch. As is well-known, thanks mainly to the Persian influence, there was a small Arab kingdom of the Lekhmides in the South-Western portion of the Sasanian empire[1]. It played its part, most beneficial for Persia, holding back on the one hand Roman-Byzantine onrush from the West, and on the other restraining the perpetual attempts at irruption into Persian territory by Arab nomadic tribes. Not long before the appearance of Islam, Sasanian influence was extended to the Arabs and the South as well as Yemen passed into the sovereignty of the Persians. Khusro and his Court appeared to the Arab an unattainable ideal of grandeur and luxury. [Footnote 1: _Die Dynastie der Lekhmiden in al-Hira, Ein Versuch zur arabisch-persischen Geschichte zur Zeit der Sasaniden Berlin_, 1899.] The rapid conquest of Persia by the Arab warriors proved a complete catastrophe to the Sasanian empire. But Persian culture was not to be extirpated by the success of Arab arms. Persia was overwhelmed only externally and the Arabs were compelled to preserve a considerable deal of the past. Having lost the position of rulers, the Persian priesthood preserved intact its control of the indigenous populace in the eyes of the latter as well as of the foreign Government. The same remark holds good of the class of landed proprietors.[1] Iranian tradition continued to live In and with them. Not only what was preserved but all that was destroyed for long left vestiges in the memory of the conquerors. [Footnote 1: Regarding the part played by this class in the times of the Khalifs, see A. Von Kramer _Culturgeschiche des orients unter den Chalifen_ II. pp, 150, 62.] Many years after the Arab conquest the ruins that covered Persia excited the admiration of the Arabs. Their geographers of the ninth and tenth centuries considered it their duty to enumerate the principal buildings of the Sasanians reminding the reader that here Khusro built in his time in bye-gone days a castle, there a mountain fastness, again at a third place, a bridge.[1] Regarding various ancient structures which had survived the Sasanian times, we refer, _inter alia_, to Istakhri, (ibid I), pp. 124; Ibn Hauqal (ibid II) 195; Ibn Khordadbeh (ibid VI) p. 43, (text); Ibn Rusteh (ibid VII), 153, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167, 189; Yakubi (ibid VII), 270, 271, 273, &c. [Footnote 1: _See_ the enumeration of the noteworthy buildings of ancient Persia as given in Makdisi (B.G.A. III), p. 399, and Ibn-ul-Fakih (_ibid_ V), p. 267.] The remains of the structures, monuments of art from the Sasanian times and the ages preceding them attracted the attention of the Arabs and they have left descriptions of the same in more or less detail.[1] From the information of the same Musalman writers we possess accurate accounts of the inhabitants of Persia and their religions. Thus, for instance, Yakubi indicates that the inhabitants of Isfahan, Merv, and Herat, consisted mainly of high-born Dehkans.[2] Makdisi notices a considerable number of fire-worshippers in several provinces of Persia, for instance, Irak and Jibal.[3] [Footnote 1: Istakhri, p. 203, Ibn Hauqal, p, 266, 256, Makdisi pp. 396 and 445, Ibn Rusteh, p. 166.] [Footnote 2: Yakubi, pp. 274, 279-280.] [Footnote 3: Makdisi, pp. 126, 194.] ISTAKHRI AND IBN HAUQAL[1] _Relate that the inhabitants of several localities of Kerman during the entire Umayyad period openly professed Mazdaism._ In a more detailed fashion, however, the Arab writers notice the Mazdian dwellers of Fars, the heart of the Persian dominion. Makdisi says that in Fars existed the customs of fire-worshippers but that the fire-worshipping inhabitants of the capital of the province of Shiraz had no distinguishing mark on their clothes; from which it follows that in that age these people were in no way differentiated from the Musalman subjects.[2] Istakhri[3] and Ibn Hauqal[4] relate that the bulk of the inhabitants of Fars consisted of fire-worshippers and they were there in larger number than anywhere else, Fars being the centre of sacerdotal and cultural life of the empire in the days of Persian independence. Very minute information is supplied us by these writers[5] regarding the ancient castles and fire-temples scattered over the whole of Fars in abundance. The latter is of capital importance since here was the residence of those two classes of Persian society, noblemen and priests, who were the staunchest conservators of the ancient national tradition. [Footnote 1: Istakhri, p. 164; _Ibn_ Hauqal, p. 221.] [Footnote 2: _See_ Makdisi, pp. 421, 429.] [Footnote 3: P. 130.] [Footnote 4: P. 207.] [Footnote 5: Istakhri, pp. 116-119; also p. 100. Ibn Hauqal, 187-190; also p. 181.] It is undoubted that the position of the Parsi community after the Moslem conquest was comparatively comfortable. Still sometimes it was darkened by excessive fanaticism and the intrigues of the followers of other faiths. Although sometimes the Parsis could push themselves forward to positions of officials and instructors and played an important part in the history of the Khalifate, generally speaking, this community was a close one leading a more or less exclusive life, a circumstance enabling the conservation of national peculiarities and attachment to antiquity. As time went on, however, the condition of their existence necessarily became worse and the consequence was the gradual emigration of a portion of the community from the motherland to Western India. In the entire Parsi literature we come across only one historical composition which recounts this emigration. But the narrative is so obscure that of the main occurrence in it there must have remained only a general memory.[1] This book is called the "Kisseh-Sanjan" and was written at a very late date at the very close of the 16th century, so that the data given in it have to be looked upon as a reverberation of ancient tradition.[2] [Footnote 1: The modern historian and Parsi scholar Karaka, in analysing the events subsequent to the Arab conquest follows the views of the old School of writers regarding this epoch as a complete destruction of all the previous organisation and the triumph of fanaticism of the new faith. See D.F. Karaka, _History of the Parsis_, Vol I; on the history of the Parsis subsequent to the Arab invasion _see_ page 22 ff.] [Footnote 2: E.B. Easrwick, Translation from the Persian of the "_Kisseh-Sanjan_" or "History of the arrival and settlement of the Parsis in India." J.B.B.R.A.S., I. 1844, pp. 167-191. (_See_ also Vol. 21, extra number, 1005, pp. 197-99).] From the circumstances detailed in this book it appears that the emigrators after the establishment of Musalman domination passed a hundred years in a mountainous locality and only after the lapse of these long years migrated to Hormuz, from where they proceeded to the peninsula of Gujarat and finally after negotiations with the local chief settled in Sanjan. Subsequently fresh refugees joined them from Khorasan. From this last we can infer that the emigration was gradual and this is confirmed by the fact that in case of migration in a mass the diaspora of the Parsis would have left some traces in the Arabic literature. Further there is no doubt that considerable number of Parsis remained behind in their country and their descendants are the modern Persian Guebres who, together with the Parsis of India, may be called the only preservers of ancient Iranian tradition to the present times. Thus, throughout Persia in the first centuries of Islam national elements with, changed fortunes persisted in their existence. It is, however, to be remarked that their success was not uniform in, every quarter of the country, that their fate depended to a considerable extent upon the geographical position and the historical life of the various provinces of the land. Western provinces owing to their proximity to the centre of the Arab ruling life had more than the rest to mingle with, the Arab stream, and to participate in the cycle of events in the Arabic period of the history of the Musalman East. Central Persia, owing to its geographical position, could not constitute the point _d'appue_ of the Persian element. For the latter the most favourably situated provinces were those in the North, East, and South, Tabaristan, Khorasan, and Fars. TABARISTAN. As is well-known throughout the floruit of the Arab empire this province found itself in almost entire independence of the central power. Local dynasts called the Ispahbeds enjoyed practical independence and in those times Arabo-Moslem influences simply did not exist. Local rulers,--Bavendids, Baduspans, Karenides--appeared successively or simultaneously following the traditions left to them by the Marzbans or the land holders and partly the successors of the great King who were independent from the times of the Arsacide dynasty.[1] Subsequently as Aliides and Ziyarids, they were closely attached to Shiaism with its definite expression of Persian sympathy. Nevertheless, this province was not favourable for a particularly successful national evolution. The fact was that even in the Sasanian epoch Tabaristan remained a distant and obscure frontier division and did not take part in the progress of civilisation of the times. Therefore it could not form the centre of gravity of Persian life although there is no doubt that in several respects in this province there were preserved typical features of Sasanian antiquity. [Footnote 1: For a general conspectus of the history of the provinces with regard to their independence during the Sasanian and Arab domination, _see, e.g._ F. Justi, G.I. Ph., II, pp. 547-49--"History of Iran from the earliest to the end of the Sasanides" in German--Appendix I.] KHORASAN. It was otherwise with the Eastern provinces of Khorasan, too far distant from the territary occupied by the Arab settlers, and too densely inhabited by Iranians to rapidly lose its previous characteristics. On the contrary, we know from the historians that in this province Iranian elements remained steadfast throughout the Umayyad dynasty and it was exclusively due to the support given by Khorasanians to the Abbasides that the latter succeeded in overthrowing the previous dynasty and commenced the era of powerful Iranian influences in the history of the Musalman Orient.[1] Khorasan played a vital part in the development of the modern Persian literature and especially its chief department, poetry. The entire early period of the history of modern Persian poetry, from Abbas welcoming with an ode Khalif Mamun into Merv down to Firdausi, may be labelled Khorasanian. There flourished the activity of Rudaki, Kisai, Dakiki, and other less notable representatives of the early period of modern Persian bards.[2] The culture of poetry was favoured not only by the geographical position of the province of Khorasan but by its political conditions. Already in the beginning of the ninth century in Khorasan there had arisen national Persian dynasties and under their patronage began the renascence of the Persian nation (Taherides, Saffarides, Samanides). [Footnote 1: On the history of Khorasan in the Umayyad period _see_ J. Wellhausen _Das Arabische Reich und Sein Sturz,_ p, 247 f. and p. 306 f.] [Footnote 2: _See_ the general survey of this period in J, Darmesteter, "The Origins of the Persian Poesy", in French and E.G. Browne "Literary History of Persia", I, p, 350 ff.] FARS. Under different circumstances but with considerable significance for the Persian national ideals lay the Southern province of Fars. Here with tenacious insistence survived not only national but also political traditions of ancient Sasanian Persia. Here was the centre of a government and from here started fresh dynasties. After the Arab conquest this province came into much more intimate connection with the Khalifate, than, for instance, Khorasan. But Persian elements were favoured by its geographical position,--the mountainous character of its situation and the consequent difficulty of access by the invaders. We already produced above the information of the Arab geographers of the tenth century regarding the abundance of fire-temples and castles in Fars. They relate that there was no village or hamlet of this province in which there was no fire-temple. Residence was taken up in strong castles by the native aristocrats whose ideals were rooted in the Sasanian epoch. Just in these geographers, Istakhri and Ibn Hauqal, is to be found information of unusual importance, so far as we can judge, regarding the conservation of the Parsi tradition in Fars These authors have been up to now not only not appreciated but their significance for our question has not yet been adequately recognised. Istakhri and Ibn Hauqal enumerating the castles of Fars declare as follows regarding the castle of Shiz:[1] "The castle of Shiz is situated in the district of Arrajana. There live fire-worshippers[2] who know Persia and her past. Here they study. This castle is very strong." [Footnote 1: Istakhri, p. 118, 2-4; Ibn Hauqal, p, 180, 1-2.] [Footnote 2: In the text occurs the Persian word _badgozar_, that is to say, the rhapsodists, the relators of the national traditions; on this word see B.G.A. III, pp. 182-83, and Vuller's _Lexicon Persico-Latinum_ S.V. For a parallel to the archives of the Achamenide empire _see_ F. Justi, _Ein Tag aus den Leben des konigs Darius._] Further we read the following in Istakhri (page 150, 14-17):-- "In the district of Sabur on the mountain there are likenesses of all the noteworthy Persian kings and grandees, of illustrious preservers of fire, high _mobeds_ and others. Their portraits, their acts and narratives about them are successively recorded in volumes. With particular care are preserved these volumes by the people living in a locality in the district of Arrajan called the castle of Shiz." From this information we learn that in one of the castles of Fars down to the tenth century there were preserved manuscripts written probably in the Pahlavi language containing narratives from Persian history and illustrated with, portraits after the style of the Sasanian reliefs to be found in the rocks in the district of Sabur.[1] This strong mountain fastness was probably little accessible to the Arabs and afforded an asylum to the _mobeds, dehkans_ and others interested in the past of their country. [Footnote 1: That is after the style of the Sasanian bass-reliefs which were preserved in his time on the rocks in the vicinity of Shapur and the most famous type of which are the bass-reliefs representing the triumphs of the Sasanian Shapur I, over the emperor Valentine]. These facts generally important for the history of the preservation of the epic, historic and artistic traditions of Iran, are particularly important for the investigation of the sources of the Arabic translations of the Sasanian chronicles and of the epopee of Firdausi. As we know, the translators of these chronicles were Persian "fire-worshippers" or Musalmans who had adopted Islam only externally and had remained true to the ancient Persian religion. Among them the foremost is called _Mobed_ belonging to the city of Sabur in the province of Fars. He is important as a worker in the Iranian historical tradition and about him we shall have occasion to speak later on. This _Mobed_ probably made Arabic translations of Sasanian chronicles from materials in the archives in the castle of Shiz. Further, the information adduced by us above regarding the castle refers to times a little previous to the age of Firdausi and undoubtedly among the materials in these archives were the sources of the Shah Nameh which were available to Firdausi through intermediate versions. Finally, we see that these Sasanian histories were illustrated, a fact which is confirmed by the statement of other Arab writers as we shall see later on. Generally the district of Arrajan enjoyed its ancient glory with reference to its cultural connections. Yakut[1] has preserved for us the information that at Raishahar in the district of Arrajan there lived in the Sasanian times men, versed in a peculiar species of syllabary who wrote medical, astronomical and logical works. [Footnote 1: "_Muajjam ul Buldan_", ed. Wustenfeld, II, p. 887. This passage has been translated by Barbier de Maynard in his "Geographical, Historical and Literary Dictionary of Persia", in French, pp. 270-271. _See_ also Fihrist II, p, 105.] What we have studied above establishes the existence of Persian literary tradition in its national form for several centuries after the Arab invasion. Now we have to survey wherein lie the characteristic features of this tradition and what were its main contents. And we pass on to their consideration. CHAPTER II The Parsi Clergy and the Musalman Iranophile party of the Shuubiya 26 The part played by them in the conservation of the Persian literary tradition 30 The different varieties of this tradition; scientific, epico-historic, legendary and ethico-didactic 32 _PARSI CLERGY PRESERVE TRADITION_ We have demonstrated above that in the time subsequent to the Arab conquest Iranian tradition found a congenial asylum in the bosom of the Parsi priesthood. There it was maintained and developed orally as well as in a written form. The most competent among the Persian historians who employed the Arabic language in those times turned to the Parsi clergy for information. Of this we have first-hand proof in their own works and in the quotations from other works preserved in later authors. For example, they frequently remark "the Mobedan-mobed related to me", "the _mobed_ so and so told me" and so on. In their quest for ancient Persian books, too, Arab authors searched for them among the Parsi priesthood and it was only there that they found them. Thus it was the merit of the Parsi community that it conserved Iranian traditions daring unfavourable times and handed them on to Moslem Persia under more auspicious conditions. Involuntarily we are led to a comparison, to their advantage, with the activity of the Iranophile party of the same times in the Moslem community, the party of the Shuubiya,[1] In their capacity as promoters of learning and exponents of literature they concentrated their activity in the cultured centre of the Khalifate at Baghdad and other cities, and being familiar with Persia played an important part in the development of Moslem culture of the Middle Ages. But in the preservation of the Iranian tradition they turned to much restricted and greatly exclusive Parsi circles. In the second half of the tenth century and in the eleventh century the currents which were preparing the Persian renascence party were lost and their significance forgotten. But for the purpose of illuminating historical questions a careful examination of these currents deserves our undivided attention. It was owing to them that literary materials were preserved which were sometimes direct translations from books belonging to the Sasanian period. The course by which these materials found their way into Arabic literature can be definitely traced. They came from Parsi centres through older circles of Moslem civilisation which were sympathetic towards Persia. Generally speaking they were trustworthy transmitters. As a matter of fact the Shuubiya turned only to the Parsi circles for materials and in the explanation of the material they did not distinguish them from their other sources. Their sources betray themselves by an exaggerated Parsi partiality where the penchant of these circles is clearly manifest. And these are intimately connected with certain questions of daily life,--the struggle for power between the Arab and the Iranian element in the Khalifate. Enthusiastic partisans of the Persian element, these circles as a counterblast to the poverty of civilizing factors of the pre-Islamic Arab nation, turned to the glories of Persia, principally of the Sasanian past. Iranophile writers had no need for inventions, since historical truth was on their side. The effectiveness of their method was indisputable. In this connection Iranian tradition among the Musalmans as transmitted by Arab writers must take precedence of a similar transmission, the Christian literature of the East, where all possibility was excluded of polemics such as obtained under the Moslem domination between the pro-Iranian and anti-Iranian parties. It is, therefore, to be regretted that the literary activities of the Musalman circles sympathising with Persian culture have descended to us only in occasional extracts and are sometimes confined only to the titles of books written by them. [Footnote 1: For details, Goldziher. _Muhammedanische Studien,_ I, 147-310.] We noticed above the revival of scientific activities in Sasanian Persia. This activity for the most part has its significance in its quality of being a connecting link, in the first place, as the transmitter of Greek knowledge to the East, and secondly, as the unifier of this knowledge with the heritage which Sasanian Persia had received from scientific works belonging to Semitic culture, as well as from the science of India. The principal representatives of this activity were not Persians, but Christians, mainly the Syrian Nestorians, and Monophysites from the school of Edessa.[1] [Footnote 1: For a general account of the character of this activity see T.J. de Boer, _History of Philosophy in Islam_, 17-20.] What was the share in these operations of the Persians themselves it is hard to tell. But at all events, it was not considerable.[1] The general character of this activity does not leave particular room for wide creative science, since it has expressed itself pre-eminently in compilations, translations of philosophical, astronomical, astrological, medical, mathematical and ethical commentaries on Greek and some Indian authors. It was not in this field that the activity of the Persian sacerdotal community in the Sasanian epoch was concentrated. And latterly in the period of the development of analogous scientific work dining the eastern Khalifate under the Abbasides the principal role belonged just to the same class of scholars, Christian Syrians, with just this difference that the activity of the latter continued among the Musalman alumni of various nationalities whilst in Sasanian Persia their operations were cut short by the unfortunate circumstances of the Arab inroads. It is interesting that in the Abbaside period the translations made from the Persian authors or authors belonging to Persia appertain to a certain special _genre_ of works of a technical nature, books on warfare[2], on divination, on horse-breaking[3], on the training of other animals, and on birds[4] trained to hunting. These special treatises were of no abstract scientific contents but referred to the practical demands of life. [Footnote 1: As regards philosophical traditions of Sasanian Persia in the Musalman epoch principally we may refer to the influence of the system of "_Zervanism_" on the adherents of the system of "_Dahar_", de Boer 15 and 76.] [Footnote 2: See my studies on the _Ain-Nameh_.] [Footnote 3: See my book on _Materials from Arabic Sources for Culture History of Sasanian Persia_.] [Footnote 4: Fihrist 315.] A different kind of importance attaches to histories devoted to government and national life of the Sasanian period and to the epic and literary tradition of Persia. Their value as history has been acknowledged and appreciated by the progressive circles of the Musalman community. Contemporary researches directing the greatest attention to this aspect of Iranian movement appreciated its value and thanks to their works, we are enabled to speak with some clearness regarding books of exceeding importance. Traces of ancient Iranian epic tradition are observable in some Greek writers, Ktesias, Herodotus, Elian, Charen of Mytelene and Atheneus. But it has survived in a considerable quantity in the Avesta.[1] [Footnote 1: The principal works for investigating the Persian historical and literary tradition are, besides the introduction to his edition and translation of the Shah-Nameh by Mohl, Noeldeke's German _History of the Persians, and Arabs at the time of the Sasanians_, his introduction, and his Iranian national epic G.I.Ph. II, 130--212; Baron Rosen, _On the question of the Arabic translations of the Khudai Nameh_ (Paraphrase by Kirst in W.Z.K.M.X, 1896); H. Zotenberg, History of the Kings of Persia by Al-Thalibi, Arabic text with translation, especially Preface, XLI-XLIV. A number of profound ideas and ingenious suggestions are made in the various articles and reviews by Gutschmid. (See Appendix V, p. 141).] The most recent and pregnant exposition is by Lehmann. It existed also in official writings of the Sasanian times, recensions of which, we possess in several Arab histories and in the Shah Nameh. Like the scientific literature these writings were subjected to a final redaction towards the close of the Sasanian dynasty and it is this recension that has mainly come down to posterity. Alongside of official writings of a general character, there existed various books of epic-historical contents, for instance, the _Yadkari-Zariran_.[1] As in these writings, so in the versions appearing from them at later times, the materials embodied were of a kindred nature, like the Romance of Behram Chobin, Story of Behram Gor, the narrative of the introduction into Persia of the Game of Chess. Besides these there were writings relating to local histories. It is noteworthy that the epic element was and is preserved with persistence by the Parsis. Mohl notes that the majority of Persian epic poems, excepting the Shah Nameh, has been preserved only in manuscripts belonging to Parsis[2]. Farther development of this phase of Persian literary tradition bifurcated into two directions. It has been shown that the official chronicles of the Sasanian times exercised influence on the development of the Musalman science of history. On the other hand, the epic was resuscitated in heroic romances and tales[3]. Alongside of the historical traditions and the epos stands the romantic poesy which has entered into Musalman literature in a marked degree in the shape of Iranian tradition. At the time this species of poetry prospered in Arabic literature there was a strong Persian influence and some of its representatives were undoubtedly inclined to Persian literary motifs, for instance, the Shuubite Sahal Ibn Harun.[4] [Footnote 1: We refer mainly to the epic cycle of Soistan for the views of the authorities on which see Mohl (LXII) and Noeldeke _National Epic_, 80-81. As a supplement to the bibliography furnished by Noeldeke see V. Rugarli, the _Epic of Kershasp_, G.S.A.I., XI, 33-81, 1898.] [Footnote 2: LXVII, note 2.] [Footnote 3: On the process of the latter nature see Mohl LXXII ff. Regarding one of the principal representatives of the later stage of this development see Abu Taher Tarsusi, Encyclopaedia of Islam, 1, 115.] [Footnote 4: Fihrist 120, 1-13. For this kind of poetry see Fihrist 306, 8-308, 14, and compare also the books characterised at page 314, 1-7.] To the same type of literary monuments we have to add the vast field of story literature. Although a considerable portion of it belongs to the province of migratory subjects, and although to Persia belongs often only the rôle of the transmitter, nevertheless, collections of stories of this class undoubtedly had their assigned place in the Sasanian epoch and the dependence of the core of the _Thousand and One Nights_ on the Persian stories collected in the _Hazar Afsan_[1] is indisputable. We shall not, therefore, stop here further regarding facts which have been decided more than once. We will only observe that in connection with the Persian literary age of the Sasanians we have to indicate a series of works of the character of epic tales arisen from the ancient historical period of the western boundary of Persia and representing "stories of the Babylonian kingdom" which have been enumerated among the books of this class and also among Persian books,--a circumstance which proves that these tales originated in Sasanian literature. Finally, just as in historical and especially in narrative literature, Persian tradition survived to the Musalman times so also it continued to live in the writings of the ethico-didactical category. The importance of the Pahlavi translation of the book of _Kalileh and Dimneh_ for the migration of this collection of tales to the West is well-known. The significance of Pahlavi translations is not less evident with regard to the _Hazar Afsan_ in connection with the _Thousand and One Nights_. Still Persian tradition in the field of ethico-didactic literature has been studied and appreciated much less than in the historical and story literature. We have now to examine a few questions in connection with the Persian tradition regarding the ethico-didactic literature of the early Musalman epoch. We shall devote the following chapter to its study. [Footnote 1: Fihrist 304, 10-305, 2. Fihrist 306, 6; Fihrist 305, 7.] CHAPTER III The ethico-didactic books in the Fihrist (315, 19-316, 25) 38 They are almost exclusively of Persian origin 38 _ETHICO-DIDACTIC LITERATURE OF IRAN_ Opinion on the importance of the influence of ethical and didactical works of the Sasanian times on the literature of this class of early Moslem epoch, generally speaking has been expressed in scientific works and has found admittance into a few general surveys of Persian literature. To the literary monuments go back a number of books on what is called _Adab_, good behaviour or agreeable manners, in modern Persian literature. Besides several literary monuments of later ages,[1] for the solution of this question, capital importance attaches to the information given in the _Fihrist_ of an-Nadhim which is the fundamental source of the history of entire Arabic literature bearing on our period. Further on we shall draw upon this work with the object of determining this species of literary tradition in Arabic books of the first centuries of Islam. [Footnote 1: P. Horn, Geschichte der persischen Letteratur, _(Die Letteraturen des Ostens in Finzeldarslellungen_ Bd VI) 38, and _Die Mittelpersische Letteratur_, 237.] Great importance for this problem lies in that portion of the Fihrist which when first edited had elicited little interest, and where are enumerated the titles of books of ethico-didactic character, Persian, Greek, Indian, Arabic, by well-known authors and by anonymous writers[1]. We are aware that in the Fihrist there are partly Arabic, partly Persian, titles of books which have come down to us in a mutilated form, but at the same time some of them have reached us in their correct shapes and others are often easily restorable. [Footnote 1: Fihrist 315, 19-316, 23.] In this section of the Fihrist we have in all forty-four titles of books. Among them a large number can be directly traced to Persian origin and a portion were evidently written under Persian influence. To the first class we have no hesitation in assigning fourteen names of books, since as we shall see, two of them or possibly three pertain to one and the same work. We will examine these titles in some detail. 1. The first book is by Zadan Farrukh and is a testament to his son[1]. Although we are not able to recall a book of this title among the Pahlavi literature that has come down to us, still the general character of this work is presented to us in perfect definiteness. It is undoubtedly one of the testaments or counsels, the so-called _Pand Nameh_ or _Andarz_, of a father to a son, or some one person to another, and the typical representatives of which in the Pahlavi literature appear to be the well-known book of testament of Adarbad to his son, the book of advice to his son by Khosro Anushirvan and the book of counsel to the latter by his Wazir, Buzurj Meher[2]. [Footnote 1: In the text the term is Zadan Farrukh, but Justi already in his _Iranisches Namenbuch_ in 1895 proposed the reading Zadan Farrukh.] [Footnote 2: As regards the first, see my _Materials from Arabic Sources,_ page 68-69. For the second, West Pahlavi literature G.I. Ph. II, 112. For the third, in Pahlavi verse West 113. For Musalman times see Schefer Chrestomathy 3-6 and Salemann and Zukovski, Persian Grammar page 41-49. Also compare _Melanges Asiatiques_ IX, 215. In Arabic Anthologies especially of the character of what is known as Furstenspiegel the maxims of this wise Wazir are very frequently quoted. See for instance, _Sirajul Mulk_ of Tartushi, also compare the bibliography in V. Chaubin, of Arabic works, Leige 1892, page 66.] Alongside of this most celebrated _Pand Nameh_ in the Pahlavi literature are also famous a number of other analogous literary monuments traceable to definite persons, while some are anonymous. They are of a nature, for instance, of a simple testament from father to son[1]. [Footnote 1: West 109-111, and 113-115.] As we have already observed, and as we shall have occasion to speak further, this category of literary remains undoubtedly survived in the Musalman literature and partly in the literature of the Arabs. For the study of the Pahlavi literature this class of tracts has already evoked attention and has called forth several editions and translations. We notice that their interest goes beyond that of Pahlavi literature proper and they are important also for the history of the literature of Musalman nations. Moreover, they are of interest from a general point of view, for the study of Musalman culture. In fact, by their very character these works are brief catechisms with no pretensions to abstract theoretical acquaintance with the sacerdotal tracts, composing another important section of Pahlavi literature, but immediately connected with the daily ordinary life. It goes without saying that whoever read them in the original, their interest did not lie in their theoretical character, but that they were rendered into Arabic and modern Persian languages with a view to the same practical end. Hence however monotonous they are,[1] whatever wearisome character these books possess, they are of great interest for the purpose of comparison with similar productions of Musalman literature and for the purpose of establishing their influence in the unfolding of ethical ideas of the Musalman east, which are far from being clearly made manifest. This side of the question deserves, in my opinion, in these days ampler attention and research. [Footnote 1: See Noeldeke "_Persische Studien_" II, S.B.W.A, 1892, 29, Noeldeke remarks, with reference to this class of literature, "that the investigation of this fatiguing business demands an unusual amount of patience", see for instance, the comparison instituted between ethical norm in the Parsi and in the Musalman Literature by Darmesteter in _Revue Critique_, 21, 1-8.] 2. The second book in the Fihrist is attributed to a _Mobedan-mobed_ that is, head of the Parsi clergy, who in Arabic texts is sometimes called simply Al-Mobedan and whose name was not understood by Flugel[1]. The same word is met with in a mutilated form in another place in the Fihrist[2]. (119-20). [Footnote 1: Fugel took it for a dual, and consequently divided the name into two.] [Footnote 2: The book next following is called _Kitab kay Lorasp_ and apparently it had to do with questions connected with Persian literary tradition.] He is mentioned by Ali Ibn Rayhani, Arabic author, who stood in near relationship to the Khalif and who was partial to the Zindiks, that is, in this case, to the Dualists. He is a reputed author of several books among which there is one whose title was restored by Justi in the _Namenbuch_[1]. The conjecture of Justi that this name should be read Mihr Adar Jushnas is fully supported by a sketch of it in a passage of interest to us in the Fihrist. Justi hesitated to declare whether this was the name of the book or of its author. But in another place in the text this word is accompanied by the designation Al-Mobedan from which we can undoubtedly conclude that this book was ascribed to a particular person, the supreme _Mobed_ Mihr Adar Jushnas. Therefore, this title of the book should be read as that of the book of Mihr Adar Jushnas, the Mobedan. This book stands at the head of the works we are considering in the Fihrist. Therefore, we can fully trace it to the Persian literary tradition. [Footnote 1: _Namenbuch_ Mahr Adar Jushnes.] 3. Similarly there can be no scepticism regarding the individual nature of the book called the _Book of the Testament of Khusro to his son Ormuz_, the admonition given to the latter when he handed over to him the reins of government and the reply of Ormuz. Flugel already perfectly correctly noticed that by Kisra we must here understand Kisra Anushirvan. In this way in this book or in the first half of it we have certainly the _Andarz Khusro_, the celebrated work in the Pahlavi literature which has been preserved up to our times and which has been translated into the European languages.[1] It contains a number of counsels of Khusro to his son and occupies the place of importance in this species of literature. It is of a pseudo-epigraphic character. [Footnote 1: See West, 112. The full title is: _Andarz-e-Khusro Kavadan. IV._] 4. With this book is identical another mentioned just there but a little further and entitled the _Book of Counsels of Kisra Anushirvan to his son_ who was called "a well of eloquence". In this way these third and fourth titles indicate one and the same book sufficiently known in the Persian literary tradition in which we are interested. 5. To the same category belongs another book ascribed to the Kisra. It is possible that in this book we have a treatise identical with the one referred to above as the book of the Testament of Khosro Anushirwan, since in several redactions his testaments are represented as advice to his son while in some they stand as admonition directed to the general public.[1] [Footnote 1: Salemann, _Mittel-persische Studeîn, Melanges Asiatiques_, ix, 1888, 218.] 6. Under the sixth heading appears a _Book of Counsels of Ardeshir Babekan to his son Sabur._ This work which was sufficiently known and made use of in the early Moslem period has not come down to us in the original Pahlavi. We know of the existence of a verse translation of this book in the Arabic made by Belazuri (Fihrist, 113 and 114). Moreover, this work was considered as a model composition (probably as represented by Belazuri), and in this connection it was comparable (Fihrist 126, 15-19) to _Kalileh wa Dimneh,_ the Essays of Umar Ibn Hamza,[1] Al Mahanith,[2] the tract called _Yatima_ of Ibn al Mukaffa, and the Essays of Ahmed Ibn Yusuf, secretary of Mamun. In view of the importance attached to this and the following _risalas_ by the author of the Fihrist, it would be interesting to have their editions and translations. [Footnote 1: A relative of the Khalif Mansur and Mahdi, a secretary of the former Fihrist, 118, 8-12. In the _Kitab al Mansur wal Manzum_ of Ahmed ibn Abi Taher (_vide_ Baron B.P. Rosen, _On the Anthology of Ahmed ibn Abi Taher_, Journal of the Russian Oriental Society, Vol. III, 1889, page 264). The essay probably referred to is called _Rasalat fi al Khamis lil Mamun_. (Or Rislat al Jaysh). See Fihrist, II, 52.] [Footnote 2: This was probably the title of the epistle of Umar Ibn Hamza to Ali ibn Mahan preserved by the same Ahmed ibn Abi Taher. As regards persons by the name of Mahan in the Musalman period see Justi _Namenbuch_ 185.] Extracts from this testament especially from its concluding portion, have been handed down to us in the _Kitabat Tambih._[1] They relate to the prophecy of Zaradusht regarding the destruction of the Persian religion and empire in the course of a thousand years after him.[2] [Footnote 1: By the same Ahmed ibn Abi Taher has been preserved the Essay of this Ahmed ibn Yusuf on "Thankfulness"--_Risalat Ahmed ibn Yusuf fishshukr_ which possibly is referred to by the author of the Fihrist. See also there the highly important _Risalat ibn Mukaffa fissahobat_. B.G.A. VIII, 98, 16-99, 1. Macoudi, _Le livre de l'avertissement et de la revision_, trad. par Carra de Vaux, Paris, 1897, 141-142.] [Footnote 2: In connection with this prophecy, as regards the changes which were made in the chronological system of the Persian history see A. Gutschmid, _Kleine Schriften,_ III, Leipzig, 1892. 22-23, and 97, &c.] It is highly interesting that just like the well-known testament by Tansar to the king of Tabaristan this testament was written at a considerably later period, in the time of Anushirwan.[3] [Footnote 3: See on this question Christensen 111-112 and Appendix VI.] Regarding the general character of this apocryphal testament we may judge by the counsels of the founder of the Sasanian dynasty which have come down to us in various Arabic and Persian historical works and in the Shah Nameh. 7. The 7th title refers to the book of a certain _mobedan mobed_ on rhetorical passages which were analogous probably to the anonymous _Pand Namehs_ which are found in the Pahlavi literature. 8. The 8th is the book on the correspondence between the Kisra and a Marzban.[1] [Footnote 1: Does not this appear like a book containing the correspondence on the well-known episode in the history of the Persians in Yemen and the letters which were exchanged between the Marzban or Mavazan and Khosrau Parviz? (See Noeldeke, Tabari 237, 264, 350-351).] 9-10. The 9th and the 10th titles relate to books of questions directed on a certain occasion by the king of Rome to Anushirwan and on another occasion by the king of Rome to another emperor of Persia. 11. The 11th book refers to the order of Ardeshir to bring out from the treasury books written by Wisemen on "Government." 12. The 12th book was written for Hormaz, son of Kisra, _i.e.,_ Kisra Anushirwan on the correspondence between a certain Kisra and "Jamasp."[1] [Footnote 1: Are we to understand under this name a reference to the well-known Jamasp Hakim occurring in Pahlavi literature (Weat, 110)? On the Persian wisdom of Jamasp, see C.H.L. Flise, cher _Kleinere Schriften_ 3 Leipzig, 1888, 254-255, and Justi _Namenbuch_, 109. The name, however, cannot be clearly read, Hadahud (see Fihrist, 316, 13) where instead of Mardyud should be read Mardwaihi. In the same book 162, 6, instead of Zaydyud should be read Zaiduya. As regards the name Hadahud generally, see Justi, 177, who mentions a son of Farrukhzad.] 13. The 13th book is attributed to a certain Kisra and it is added that it treated of gratitude and was written for the benefit of the public. 14. Finally, the 14th heading referred no doubt to one of those Persian books written by Persians bearing Persian names and embodying various stories and anecdotes. Of the remaining 30 books, 11 belong to the Moslem period but were composed at the time of complete Persian influence on Arabic literature. We have three books on Adab written for Khalif Mahdi, Rashid and for the Barmecide Yahya ibn Khalid. Then there are nine books by authors who are partly unknown and partly belong to the same period of Persian influence and who have been mentioned in other places in the Fihrist. Of the remaining 19 books a considerable number is to be found to have issued from Persian sources. Of Persian origin probably were two books translated by the aforesaid Mihr Adur Jushnasp--one relating to 'Adab' and the other on 'house-building.' The book on the refutation of the Zendiks by an unknown author was probably derived from Parsi circles. For, especially in the reign of Mamun there existed various controversies with the followers of Mazdaism and Dualists.[1] [Footnote 1: A. Barthelémy, Gujastak Abalish. _Rélation d'une Conférence Théologique, presidée par le Calife Mamoun_, Paris, 1887. (Bibliotheque de l'école des hautes études, sciences philologiques et historiques, LXIX., fascicule.)] Further, undoubtedly under Persian books must be reckoned the book of the 'Counsels' of ancient kings and the book of the 'Questions' to certain Wisemen, and their Answers. If these are not of direct Persian origin they are similar in contents to Persian books. Two books included in this list, namely, one by a certain Christian on ethico-didactical subjects as is stated in the title itself, drawn from Persian, Greek and Arabic sources, and the other, a book translated by the author of the Fihrist himself containing the anecdotes regarding the people of a superior class and of the middle class--these two books on account of their contents embody the experiences relating to ethico-didactical questions and were of the nature of compilation similar to the book of Ibn Miskawaihi of whom we shall speak later on. Finally, all the remaining books relate to that class of anecdotal and didactic literature which spread so wide among Arabic writers through Pahlavi and originating from Indian authors. Such books were, for instance, the story of Despair and Hope, the Book of Hearing and Judgment, the Book of the two Indians, a liberal man and a miser, their disputation, and the judgment passed on them by the Indian prince, etc. That our assumption is highly probable is confirmed by the mention among these books of the book of the philosopher and his experiences with the slave girl Kaytar.[1] [Footnote 1: This book no doubt is a portion of the well-known fable Lai d'--Aristote preserved in certain ancient monuments of Arabic literature. The same book is mentioned among Persian books in another place in the Fihrist. (305-6). Kitab Musk Zanameh, w[=a] shah Zanan. These two books have been variously transcribed by the copyists.] The name has been much mutilated and serves as an example of the degree to which Persian titles have been corrupted. Nevertheless, thanks to the circumstance that the name of the slave girl has come down to us, in the Arabic version of the story we are able to trace the title adduced in the Fihrist.[1] [Footnote 1: Le Livre des beautes et des antithesis attribute a Abu Othman Amr ibn Bahr al-Djahiz texte publie par G. Van Vloten, Leyde, 1898, 225-257; E. G., Browne, "some account of the Arabic work entitled Nihayatu'l-irab fi Akhbari'l Furs wa'l-Arab," particularly of that part which treats of the Persian kings, J.R.A.S. (900, 243-245).] This name is Mushk Daneh or a grain of Musk. The book of Musk Daneh and the _mobed_ became famous in Arabic literature as a separate Persian composition.[2] [Footnote 2: Similarly the title Shahzanan in the Fihrist is possibly Mobedan, (See Browne 244, 2, 3, 11, 15; 245, 4, 15; and Van Vloten 255, 16; 256, 1, 4, 14; 257, 7, 9; or Shaikh al mobedan, Browne 245.)] CHAPTER IV The Persian, sources of the compilation of Ibn Miskawaihi 54 Preponderance of the Persian element in the evolution of the Musalman morals 57 The "Book of Adab" by Ibn al Muqaffa and other similar Arabic works 59 _IRANIAN COMPONENTS OF ADAB LITERATURE IN ARABIC_ At the head of works under the title of ethico didactic writings, which have come down to us stands a group most characteristically denominated _Adab ul Arab val Furs_ belonging to the pen of a writer of the 10th and 11th centuries, Ibn Miskawaihi whose name is pronounced in Persian Ibn Mushkuya. At the basis of this collection lies the ancient Persian pseudepigraphical book _Javidan khired_, or "Eternal wisdom." But in the body of it there is a series of literary monuments of Sasanian literature and its descendants.[1] The author is known, besides, by his philosophical works, as a historian[2] and as such he is particularly important for the history of the Buides.[3] And his Persian origin would point to his sympathy for Persian literary tradition. As a matter of fact, his ethico-didactic collection is based on a book of the Sasanian epoch. It would appear that this circumstance has undoubted significance for the determination of the influence in the compilation of Moslem ethical ideals. However, in contradiction to this basal fact and notwithstanding that in the province of the development of Islam as a religion, Persian element played an important part,[4] the development of the Moslem ethical tracts in contemporary literature, for the most part, is dependent upon more antique, specially Greek, tradition. J. Goldziher recognizing the importance of the influence of Parsism on Islam says the exact demonstration of the dependence of these phenomena on the culture historical facts, whose consequences they are, would be the most interesting task which those studying Islam in its present position can place before themselves. Many of the dominating views regarding the original spirit of Islam would receive the needed correction by such investigation. [Footnote 1: On this work and its manuscripts see my _Material from Arab sources_ 68-69.] [Footnote 2: For Miskawaihi as a philosopher see Boer 116-119.] [Footnote 3:--He was the treasurer and a close friend of the Buide Adudad-Daula.] [Footnote 4: For a general sketch of Moslem ethics in ancient times see Carra de Vaux, _Gazali_, 129-142, and _Encyclopaedia of Islam_ 4, 244-246.] Let us examine three points regarding the influence on Moslem morals and general conduct. In the first place stand the moral writings of ecclesiastical character. The morality is rooted in and based on the moral of the Bible and then on the developed Moslem law and has absorbed in itself some of the elements of the ethics of Christianity. In the second place, there is a series of ethical documents of a most valued nature in the shape of proverbs, dicta, maxims, fables, constituting a kind of moral philosophy, often independent of each other, varied in their character, and different as to time and the place of their compositions. Here we may separate a certain stratum of Persian element, and an analysis of them may reveal partly contemporary knowledge and partly elements of foreign religious ethics. The third but not the last place in importance is occupied by the Greek ethical tradition in which latterly are discernible important Christian constituents. Recent studies have yielded us as their result, this structure of Musalman ethics. But it is to be noted that the theoretical deductions at first sight do not find confirmation in facts. For we do not know which Greek books on ethics were translated in the beginning of the period of the scientific development of Islam, and for the support of our thesis we have to point to the possibility of oral transmission of Hellenic ethical tradition through Syriac scholars, although this circumstance does not militate against our hypothesis. Besides a small amount of translations from Greek ethical works, especially the books of Aristotle, there are observed among the works embodied in this tradition a series of pseudographs which, however, can have only an external relation with the Greek sciences and which would rather lead to the second group of the influences on Musalman ethical monuments namely, the group of monuments of "Oriental wisdom." The most typical of the pseudographical _wisaya_, or "Testaments" are ascribed to Aristotle, Pythagoras, and others. To our mind, they are derived from Persian tradition to the same extent, if not in a larger extent than from the Christian. Actual studies demonstrate that the basal work for this epoch was the book above-mentioned of Ibn Miskawaihi which as we saw above, issued from Persian literary tradition. And the character of that tradition can be explained from exterior circumstances without an analysis of its contents. The fact is that Ibn Miskawaihi worked upon that class of Persian material, for instance the _Pand Nameh_ or _Andarz_, which had nothing to do with the province of the indefinite gnomic literature but which had the character of a catechism and therefore expresses a definite system of religious morals, the morals of Parsism.[1] The appreciation of the influence of Parsism on Islam has only just commenced. But we are already in a position to emphasise the great influence, which Parsi ethics have exercised on Islam and this influence has been attested by a number of Greek and Christian witnesses. So far, for an acknowledgment of this influence serves a purely external fact, namely, a glance at the bibliography of the ancient ethico-didactic tracts in the Musalman literature and an examination of the contents of the book of Ibn Muskawaihi. A number of additional facts confirm this hypothesis. [Footnote 1: For a general review of the morals of Parsism see A.V.W. Jackson's G. I. Ph. Vol. II, 678-683.] Well-known is the importance enjoyed in the beginning of the epoch of the development of the Arabic Musalman literature, by the activities of the Parsi Ibn al Muqaffa.[1] He is famous as the first commentator of the Greek books on logic in Arabic literature, but he is particularly renowned as the efficient supporter of the Persian literary tradition and its translator into the Arabic literature. His rendering of _Kalila and Dimma_ is well-known. It enjoys a prime role in the migration of this collection of stories to the West. Well-known also is his translation of the Persian book of _Khoday Nameh_,--that is, the official chronicle of the Sasanian times and of the _Ain Nameh_, the Institutes of the time. We shall have occasion to speak about these books later on. To him also belong the books closely connected with the Sasanian epoch, namely, the _Book of Mazdak_ the _Book of Taj_ to which we shall refer further on. It is interesting that he is also the reputed author of two books on Adab, perhaps among the most ancient ones in Arabic literature.[2] One of these books called the Smaller was probably contained in the other which is called the Larger and has the purely Persian title of Mah farra Jushnas. (This is how the title is to be read according to Hoffmann and Justi).[3] Since the interest of Muqaffa was concentrated in the province of Persian culture it is indisputable that his activity was not confined in this direction to one book and the contents of the book have vestiges in a high degree of dependence on Persian motifs. This is proved by a variety of circumstances. We have descended to us his book called _Al Yatima_, a tract on that aspect of morals which was especially diffused in the Sasanian epoch and was devoted to politics and in form represented the species of writings called Furstenspiegel.[4] A tradition of this kind of literature for long continued to live in the Musalman writers and the typical representative of the species seems to be the famous _Siyasat Nameh_, of Nizam-ulmulk, the Saljuk Wazir. On some occasions it directly serves as a source for the internal history of the Sasanian domination. It bears particularly on didactic literature though it has been as yet very ill studied from the comparative standpoint. The Sasanian influence is perfectly obvious. Some portions of Al Yatima of Ibn Muqaffa may be parallelled to corresponding remnants from Pahlavi literature in the _Kabus Nameh_ and the _Siasat Nameh._[5] We know further that books under the title of Persian Adab were spread among those who sympathised with Mazdaism and Manichism in the circle of Moslem society.[6] These books by their character were comparable to books on Mazdak but also to Kalila wa Dimna. [Footnote 1: Fihrist, 118, 18-29, and Ibn al Qifti's _Tarkh al hukama_ edited by Lippert, page 220, 1-10.] [Footnote 2: Brockelmann, On the rhetorical writings of Ibn all Mukaffa, Z.D.M.G. 53, 231-32.] [Footnote 3: Hoffmann "Extracts from Syrian acts of Persian martyrs", 1880 page 289 note, and Justi, _Namenbuch_ 186.] [Footnote 4: Precise information regarding its contents is rather to be found in Ibn al Qifti than in the _Fihrist_. In the former the heading is _Fi taat us Sultan_, in the latter _Fi rasail._ See _La perle incomparable ou_ l'art du parfait courtisane de Abdallah ibn al-Muqaffa, 1906. See the French translation from the Dutch rendering of this tract.] [Footnote 5: On the political ideas of the latter see Pizzi, Le idee politiche di Nizam-ul-Mulk G.S.A. 1., 131-141.] [Footnote 6: Tabari "Annales" Vol. 3, 1309, 9-15, and Browne A literary History of Persia, 1, 332.] Besides Muqaffa a number of writers of the epoch of the development of Arabic Musalman literature interested themselves in themes connected with Persian antiquities. One of them, Aban Ibn Abdul Humiad ar Rakashi otherwise known as Aban al-Lahiki chose a number of themes from ancient Persian literature and according to the Fihrist versified them (119, 1-6-163, 7-10). Such subjects were--_Kalila and Dimna,_ the _Book of Barlaam and Yuasef, the Book of Sindbad_, the _Book of Mazdak_ and finally books on two popular representative of the Sasanian dynasty, namely, the _Book of the acts of Ardasher_ and the _Book of the acts of Anushirvan._[1] [Footnote 1: Versification of the history of Anushirvan is also to be met with in later Parsi literature, see, Sachau, Contribution to the knowledge of the Parsi literature, J.R.A.S. 1870 page 258.] Another author, Ahmed Ibn Tahir Taifur, wrote according the Fihrist (146, 21) a special Book of Hormuz son of Kisra Anushirvan.[1] No doubt, further more, writers of Persian origin followed in their books on _Adab_ Persian models. Such probably was the book of Adab by an author whose name has been mutilated in the Fihrist (139, 15, 18). There is another class of writings which bears relation to this one and which is mentioned in the Fihrist. It is quite possible that on this literary Persian tradition, were based also some of the tracts under the title of "_Books on counsels_" a considerable number of which we meet with in the Fihrist.[2] [Footnote 1: See the essay of Baron Rosen on the anthology of Ahmed Ibn Abi Tahir.] [Footnote 2: 78, 15; 105, 10; 293, 12; 204, 17-18; 204, 29; 207, 21; 210, 23; 212, 22-23; 217, 4-5; 220, 25; 222, 14; 234, 23; 281, 20; 282, 5.] Ethico-didactical treatises in the form of counsels, maxima or testaments, constitute a singular group of literary mementos the genesis of which in the Musalman literature maybe established only after an examination of similar books in the Persian writings of the Sasanian times. Examples of a like class of testaments, literary compilations under the title, for the most part, of pseudo-graphs going up to pre-Moslem period we have already noticed in the _Book of the counsels of Ardasher_ and the _Pand Nameh_ of Kisra Anushirvan. CHAPTER V The _Taj Nameh_ as mentioned in the Fihrist page 305, and page 118, and repeatedly referred to in the _Uyunal Akhbar_, Part I, of Ibn Kutayba 65 The Persian book with illustrations mentioned by Masudi in his _Kitab at Tambih_, page 106-7 and the illustrations in the scrolls in the castle of Shiz 68 _PAHLAVI BOOKS STUDIED BY ARAB AUTHORS_. We have indicated in the preceding chapter the translations of Ibn al Muqaffa from Persian books into Arabic. Besides those of an ethico-didactic contents, among them there were books of historical character. All these translations have not come down to us. Extracts of these renderings into Arabic, however, have been preserved in the original and sometimes in paraphrase. Unusually important was the translation of the book called the _Khuday Nameh,_ the value of which has long been appreciated by science. Questions of vital importance in connection with this history are its relation to the _Shah Nameh_ and the examination of its various translations in the Musalman period. The loss of this book, perhaps the most important monument of Middle Persian literature, is to be particularly deplored in that with it has perished the connecting link of the historical evolution of Iran, incorporating the religious and clerical legislature in an official redaction. Of capital importance also was another book called the Ain Nameh[1] or the Book of Institutes, a valuable source of the internal history of the Sasanian Empire, comprising a descriptive table of official dignitaries or the _Gah Nameh._[2] Judging by the clue given in the Fihrist (118,28) it would appear that the _Book of Taj_ also was a historical one since it has been explained that the book treated of the "Acts of Anushirwan." As a matter of fact, among the books written by the Persians on epic and historical subjects and indexed in the same Fihrist (305, 8-13) has been mentioned the _Book of Taj._[3] [Footnote 1: See below and also my book on _The Materials from Arabic sources,_ &c., 63-66. Like Masudi in his _Kitab_ at Tambih, Asadi in his _Lughal al-Furs_ (Asadi's _neupersischen Worterbuch Lughat al-Furs,_ edited by P. Horn, 1897, 110, 1), identifies the word _ain_ with the word _rasam,_ practice or custom. As regards the word _ain_ in the Iranian languages see Horn _Grundriss der neu persischen Etymologie_, 15-16; Hubschmann, _Persische Studien_ 11, and B.G.A. IV, 175, and VIII, Glossarium IX. To understand the ancient usage of the term the modern Parsi expression _Dad wa ain din_ in the sense of religious law and custom helps us. In this phrase the word _dad_ corresponds to the modern Musalman _shariyat_ and the word _ain_ to _adat_. Regarding its special meaning in the Umayyad times see J. Wellhausen _Das Arabische Reich und sein Sturz_ 189.] [Footnote 2: Most probably in connection with the materials of this book stood A collection of Persian genealogy written by the well-known Ibn Khurdadbeh (Fihrist 149, 4), representing a peculiar antithesis to the numerous selections of Arab tribal and family genealogies.] [Footnote 3: Here are first mentioned the two books translated by Jabala ibn Salim, namely, the _Book of Rustam and Isfandiyar_ and the _Book of Behram Chobin_ (the well-known Romance of the King about which, sea Noeldeke's Tabari 474-478), and further the _Book of Shahrzad and Aberviz_ (which no doubt was connected with the _Thousand and one Nights_), the _Book of Kar Nameh_ or the "Acts" of Anushirwan belonging to the same class of books as the _Kar Nameh of Ardashir_. Then the books that interest us are the _Book of Taj_, the _Book of Dara and the Golden Idol_, the _Ain Nameh_, the _Book of Behramgor and his brother Narseh_ and finally, one more _Book of Anushirwan._] It is possible that the book of Ibn al Mukaffa was not the first translation of the Persian book since this title is applied by not a few other Arabic writers of the time to some of their own works. (For example, Abu Ubaida, See Goldziher _Muhammed Studien_ 1,198). In his time Baron Rosen called attention to quotations from a certain _Book of Taj_ in _Uyunal Akhbar_ of Ibn Qutaiba.[1] These quotations are only to be found in the first part of the _Uyunal Akhbar_. All these quotations, eight in number, bear a didactic character, and excepting three, refer back to Kisra Abarviz and contain his testament to his sons (two), secretaries, treasurers and _hajibs_. Of the remaining three one bears on general maxims of practical politics. Another is a testament of an ancient Persian king to his Wazir. And the third is a maxim of one of the secretaries of a king. In this manner all these citations are of an ethicodidactic nature; only they have been invested with a historical environment and under ordinary circumstances would represent the general type of writings on political conduct for rulers, standing for the class of literature designated _Furstenspiegel_. A similar class of citations is preserved in the "speeches from the throne" and the counsels of the Sasanian kings which we come across in various Arab historical and anthological works bearing on Sasanian Persia, as also in the Shah Nameh. [Footnote 1: Baron Rosen, Zur arabischen Literatur geschichte der altern zeit, 1. Ibn Qutaiba; _Kitab Uyunal Akhbar_ (Melanges Asiatiques, VIII, 1880, 745-779, especially 774-775). These citations correspond to those in the edition of Brockelmann as follows: 21, 12-16; 27, 11-15; 32, 2-8; 44, 13-45, 4; 67, 13-66, 8; 84, 8-16; 107, 2-17; 120, 16-121, 5.] Gutschmid already noticed in his time that by the Persian historians to each Sasanian ruler was ascribed a maxim and indicated that with reference to Ardashir and Anoshiravan these maxims may be taken as the basis since the _Book of Counsels_ of the former was well-known and a large number of edifying proverbs of the latter had found admittance into the national language.[1] Let us add that, as we showed above, there has been preserved a similar class of _Books of Counsels_, the reputed author of which is Anoshiravan. The putative dicta of the other Sasanian kings Gutschmid considered as fabricated being designed to be brief characterisations of each of them. Gutschmid further advanced the conjecture that these apophthegms formed the texts under the portraits of the kings in the book which was used by Hamza Ispahani[2] and which was seen by Masudi.[3] According to the information supplied us by the latter (Masudi) he saw this book in Istakhr in an aristocratic Persian family, and that it included, besides information of a scientific character, the history of the Persian kings and their reigns and a description of the monuments erected by them.[4] In the book were the portraits of the Sasanians and it was based on the documents found in the royal archives. And the portraits also were prepared from the materials deposited there. The book was completed in A.H. 113 (A.D. 731), and it was translated for the Khalif Hisham from the Persian into the Arabic language. [Footnote 1: Gutschmid, Kleine schriften, III, 35-36.] [Footnote 2: About this book see Gutschmid, III, 150-151.] [Footnote 3: B.G.A. VIII, 106, 5-107, 5. Translation by Carra de Vaux 150-151. See Christensen 90-91.] [Footnote 4: Gutschmid 150, 151.] We called attention above to the information supplied by Istakhri and Ibn Haukal regarding the castle of Shiz and the preservation in it of the archives and the portraits of the Sasanian kings. It is highly probable that for the reproduction of these portraits of the sovereigns the authors were guided as much by the bas-reliefs, not far from this castle, as by the tradition regarding them which was embalmed in older books belonging to the class mentioned by Masudi which undoubtedly existed in the Imperial archives.[1] Along with the literary tradition there must have survived the artistic tradition. It is highly probable that the peculiar Persian art of illuminating manuscripts which was yet unknown according to Masudi in his own time,--the embellishing of books with gold, silver, and copper dust was practised by the Manichians whose calligraphy[2] delighted the Musalman authors and whose style of illustrating manuscripts must have been fashioned after the art displayed in those books which in the tenth century were preserved in the castle of Shiz[3] and which at an earlier period were widely desseminated among the Parsi circles. [Footnote 1: Connected with ancient tradition, but dependant upon modern science, are the portraits of the Sasanian kings in the recently published _Nameh Khusrawan_, Tehran 1285, (A.D. 1868).] [Footnote 2: In connection with the art of the Persian calligraphist and illustrative of the Sasanian epoch stand the indications of the ancient Moslem writers regarding the Avesta, which is reported to have been inscribed by Zoroaster in gold ink on parchment and also writings in gold ink of certain ancient Persian books. According to the _Zafar Nameh_, Anushirwan directed that the maxims of Buzurjamihr should be written down in golden water,--(ba-abizar). From early Sasanians also comes the custom of writing on valuable parchment or paper. Masudi speaks of the purple ink of these books.] [Footnote 3: See Browne, "A Literary History", I, 165-166.] Now we revert to the supposition of Gutschmid. Had he known the quotations from the _Book of Taj_ in _Uyunal Akhbar_ he would have adduced them in confirmation of his hypothesis, and he would have compared the book mentioned by Masudi with the _Book of Taj_ referred to among the Persian books enumerated in the Fihrist. On the basis of the last-mentioned work it may be affirmed that in the Sasanian times there existed a certain _Taj Nameh_ comparable to the _Khuday Nameh_ and _the Ain Nameh_. The extracts in the _Uyunal akhbar_ do not contain anything of a special nature with reference to king Anushirwan so that the _Book of Taj_ on the "Acts of Anushirwan" mentioned in the Fihrist among the books of Ibn al Mukaffa could hardly have comprised what has been quoted in _Uyunal akhbar_. The materials at our disposal are too scanty to establish its relation with the Sasanian _Book of Taj_.[1] [Footnote 1: The supposition (Zotenberg, Thaalibi XLI,) according to which Firdausi saw an illustrated "Book of Kings" rests on a misunderstanding. The fact is that certain verses have been incorrectly translated by Mohl (IV, 700-701, Verses 4071-4075). Mohl translated the passage as follows: "There was an aged man named Azad Serw who lived at Merv in the house of Ahmad son of Sahl; _he possessed a book of kings in which were to be found the portraits and figures of the Pehlwans_. He was a man with a heart replete with wisdom and a head full of eloquence, and a tongue nourished with ancient tradition; he traced his origin to Sam, son of Nariman, and he knew well the affairs regarding the fights of Rustam." A more correct translation would be: "There was a certain old man by name of Azad Serw living in Merv with Ahmad son of Sahl. _He had a Book of Kings. In figure and face he was a warrior_; his heart was full of wisdom, his head full of eloquence, and in his mouth there ever were stories of the ancient times. He traced his origin back to Sam, son of Nariman, and preserved in his memory many a tale of the battles of Rustam."] CHAPTER VI The list of the translators from Persian into Arabic as given in the Fihrist, (244, 25-245, 6) 75 The different categories of these translators Omar ibn al Farrukhan of Tabaristan (Fihrist 273, 14-18) and his _Kitab al Mahasin_ 79 Other authors of books of analogous titles in the first centuries of Islam,--the relation of these books to the books of "Virtues and Vices" (cf. Baihaqi, pseudo-Jahiz) and the connection of these books with the Parsi religious idea of the licit and the illicit,--_Al Mahasin wal Masavi_, and the _Shayast la Shayast_. 83 _TRANSLATORS FROM PAHLAVI_. In the Fihrist (244, 25-245, 6) are stated a number of names of the principal translators from the Persian into the Arabic language. Assuredly this list is far from complete. The author names only a few calling attention to only particular translators. The passage in question in the Fihrist has been more than once utilised. The entire section has not been exhaustively examined. We believe that from it we can infer the general character of the contents of those translations which were prepared from Persian into Arabic and can gather some further indices regarding this list of names. To examine the list of translators in order. First of all as may be expected is mentioned Ibn al Muqaffa about whom the Fihrist speaks in detail at another place. Then follow the family of Naubakht; Musa and Yusuf, the sons of Khalid; Abul Hasan Ali ibn Zyad at Tamimi--of his principal translations is mentioned "the Tables of Shahriyar;" Hasan ibn Sahal mentioned at the head of astronomers; Balazuri; Jabala ibn Salem, secretary of Hisham; Ishak ibn Yazid, translator of the Persian history entitled _Khuday Nameh_; Muhammad ibn al Jahm al Barmaki; Hisham ibn al Kasim; Musa ibn Isa al Kisravi; Zaduya ibn Shahuya al Isfahani; Muhammad ibn Behram al Isfahani; Behram ibn Mardanshah, Mobed mobedan of the City of Sabur in Fars; Umar ibn al Farrukhan of whom special mention is made by the author of the Fihrist. An examination of the aforesaid names of translators in order would, it seems to us, afford material for the solution of the problem regarding the different varieties of Persian literary tradition in the first centuries of Islam. Ibn al Muqaffa stands in the first place belonging to him by right. He was a genuine encyclopaedic translator familiar with the Arab society with all its influence of spiritual Sasanian life of Persia finding expression in its literature. He translated scientific, epico-historical, and ethico-didactic books. Hence we can understand that in the Fihrist has been assigned to him a special notice as noted by us above. The family of Naubakht, mentioned next, represents a group of scholars mentioned separately in the Fihrist.[1] The head of the Naubakhts, was an astronomer to the Khalif Mansur and his son Abu Sahl succeeded to his father's occupation. The grandsons of Naubakht wrote books on astronomy as well as jurisprudence. Persian literary tradition is earliest recognised in the astronomical works of the grandsons of Naubakht. The author of the Fihrist places this Hasan ibn Sahl, as already indicated by Flugel, at the head of astronomers. And the same scientific character no doubt was attached to the activities of Musa and Yusuf,[2] the sons of Khalid mentioned there as well as at Tamimi, the author of the astronomical tables _Zichash Shahriyar_. In this manner these translators mentioned after Ibn al Mukaffa constituted in a manner a peculiar group of scholars who prepared translations from Pahlavi into Arabic. [Footnote 1: 176, 20-177, 9; 177, 9-19; 274, 7-13; 275, 25-6. See Ibn al Kifti 165, 1-5 and 409, 3-14.] [Footnote 2: See Ibn al Kifti, 1711, 10-11.] Balazuri and Jabala ibn Salem have already been mentioned above. The first translated into verse a Book of the Counsels of Ardeshir and the second the Book of Rustam and Isfandiyar as well as the romance of Behram Chobin. In this way the themes handled by these writers may be called epico-historical and ethico-didactic. Purely historical questions interested the seven succeeding translators from Ishaq ibn Yazid to Mobed Behram. These persons are sufficiently known in their special departments of literature. They were the translators into the Arabic language of the _Khuday Nameh_.[1] Accordingly we may group them in a class by themselves. [Footnote 1: Compare the essay of Rosen mentioned above _On the question of the Arabic translations of the Khuday Nameh_, 173-176, and 182-186.] The next author mentioned at this place in the Fihrist as a translator stands by himself,--Umar ibn al Farrukhan. He is altogether unknown as a translator of historical works. Hence he was not included in the group of persons mentioned before. On the other hand, had he been set down in this passage of the Fihrist as a translator of scientific works he would have been assigned a place not at the close of the list but in the middle of the translators of this class of books, that is, after Ibn Muqaffa and in the midst of the descendants of Naubakht and other persons mentioned above. Therefore we think that Umar ibn Farrukhan was a translator of another species of work or, may be, works. In support of our assumption we must call attention to that place in the Fihrist where are enumerated the books of this author and to which an-Nadhin himself refers in the analysis of the number of translators from Persian into Arabic. Besides this place in the Fihrist, Umar ibn Farrukhan of Tabaristan has been mentioned in two other places. Once briefly,[1] (268, 25-26) as the annotator of the astronomical book of Dorotheya Sidonia and in another place (277, 14-18) in a few lines[2] specially devoted to him. Here he is mentioned as the annotator of Ptolemy as translated by Batrik Yahuya ibn al Batrik and as the author of two books, one of astronomical contents and the other entitled _Kitab al Mahasin_, that is the book of good qualities and manners.[3] This latter book demands a few lines from us. [Footnote 1: Ibn al Qifti 184, 9--10.] [Footnote 2: Ibn al Kifti 241, 20-242, 12. (This has been pointed out in the Fihrist Vol. II, 110-111, and in ZDMG XXV, 1871, 413--415.) Further mention of him in the same book 98, 9 and 184, 10.] [Footnote 3: An account of the literary activity of this author was given in the work of H. Suter, _Die Mathematiker und Astronomen der Araber und ihre Werke_, Abhandiungen Zur Geschichte der mathematischer Wissenschaften Supplement zum, 45 Jahrgang der Zeitschrift fur Mathematik und Physik, Leipzig, 1900, 7-8. Haji Khalfa cites only the astrological books of Omar Ibn Farrukhan I, 198 and V, 35, 386. See also Justi _Namenbuch_ 95, Nos. 15 and 19.] Umar ibn Farrukhan is mentioned in the section of books on astronomy, mathematics, physics, mechanics, and music. In this group are mentioned a number of writers who composed works on these sciences, beginning with Euclid and ending with the contemporary authors of an-Nadhin. In the midst of them, an-Nadhin has also mentioned the grandsons of Naubakht. Not one of them wrote any _Kitab al Mahasin_ which appears, therefore, to be the independent work of Umar ibn Farrukhan. This book, further, could not have been of a scientific astronomical, or mathematical nature as is obvious from its subject-matter which related to good manners and conduct. This book has been mentioned in this group only because here are enumerated the works of Umar ibn Farrukhan. And good manners and conduct constituted, as we saw above, a favourite theme of Parsi literature: wherefor the book heads the list. Similar to it are the contents not only of _Andarzes_ and _Pand Namehs_ but of a series of tracts on religious subjects. Hence we think that it was mainly owing to this book that Umar ibn Farrukhan was included among the number of principal translators from Persian into Arabic and came to be enumerated among the translators to whom is ascribed a certain amount of speciality. For he was the solitary representative of his category of translators of ethicodidactic books intimately connected with the problems of the Paris religion. Possibly Umar ibn Farrukhan was the first to introduce this species of literature into Arabic, and we must add, employed for his material as well as ideas Parsi tracts. Originally from Tabaristan, he, in the words of Ibn al Qifti, was introduced to Abu Maashar al Balkhi, stood well with Jaffer the Barmecide, and subsequently with Fazl ibn Sahl, the Wazir who recommended him to his sovereign al-Mamum. And for this Khalif Mamun he prepared a number of translations. The sympathy of these persons for the Persian literary tradition could not have been confined to the translation of scientific works, but must have extended to the preservation of Persian ethico-didactic tradition in literature. Books with the title of _Kitab al Mahasin_ are to be met with in the Fihrist, if not often, several times. A book with this title (77, 21) has been ascribed to the celebrated Ibn Qutaiba. It was composed doubtless after the book of Umar ibn Farrukhan, for Qutaiba flourished at the close of the reign of Mamun and his literary activities could be referred to the ninth century. Qutaiba undoubtedly interested himself in Persian literary materials. Hence it can be concluded that his _Kitab al Mahasin_ was not foreign to the materials and in form could be the first imitation of Farrukhan. Further it is interesting to note that books with this title were attributed especially to Shia authors such as Abu Nadar Muhamed ibn Masud al Ayashi who wrote _Kitab al Mahasin al Akhlak_ or a book of good morals (195, 10) and Abu Abdullah Muhammad ibn Khallid al Barki who wrote _Kitab al Mahasin_ (2213-4, also 7-9). And the interest of Shia authors in Persian tradition was unquestionable. A book with the same title of _Kitab al Mahasin_ is ascribed to a certain Ibn al Harun, (148, 17) an author who has been assigned in the Fihrist a place among the writers on Adab and as responsible for a book called _Kitab al Adab_. Now the discussion of Adab as we said above is intimately connected with Persian tradition. And this tradition probably survived in the books which had for their theme "the good qualities of Adab."[1] We believe that all these books were devoted to Persian literary tradition, in close relation to which stands the book on "good qualities and manners" mentioned in the Fihrist as translated from the Persian language into Arabic by the man from Tabaristan, Umar ibn al Farrukhan. [Footnote 1: For instance, _Mahasin al Adab of Ispahani_, see Brockelmann, _Geschichte der Arabischen Litterature_ I. 351.] Co-related with these books on "good qualities" stand, in our opinion, the books on "good morals and their opposite," or "goodness and wickedness," _Kutub al Mahasin wal Azdad_, or _Kutub al Mahasin wal Masawi_. Although in the Fihrist we do not come across books with this title, we have a book so named from the beginning of the tenth century whose author was Ibrahim ibn Muhammad al Baihaki.[1] Under the title of _Kitab al Mahasin wal Azdad_ we likewise possess a work ascribed to Jahiz.[2] Both these books evidently go to a common origin.[3] It is quite possible that antithesis was originally not excluded from these _Kutub al-Mahasin_, from which were developed a special species of educative treatises,--those on "good qualities and their opposites." Continuing our comparison with the Parsi literature, we notice that a similar kind of antithesis is most commonly employed there. [Footnote 1: Ibrahim ibn Muhammad al Baihaki, _Kitab al-Mahasin val masavi_, herausgegeben von Dr. F. Schwally, Geissen 1902.] [Footnote 2: _Le livre des beautes et des antithesis attribue a Abu Othman Amr ibn Bahr al-Djakiz_, texte arabe publie par G. Van Vloten Leyde; 1898.] [Footnote 3: See the review by Barbier de Meynard of the edition of _Mahasin wal Azdad_ in the Revue Citique, 1900, 276.] In the Parsi ecclesiastical literature of an ethical nature we find definitely settled what is "proper" and, on the other hand, what is "improper."[1] It is well known that books under this title,--"the proper and the improper" or "the licit and the illicit"--are to be found among the Pahlavi tracts the time of whose composition can be fixed somewhere between the seventh and the ninth centuries A.D.[2] Comparing the Pahlavi tracts with reference to these questions with Arabic books on good and bad qualities and manners, we have to bear in mind the general features, general outline, as well as the conditions of civilisation of the period when these books were written, in other words, the circumstances of their intimate relation generally of a cultural nature, particularly of a literary form obtaining between the Arab and Persian nations, and between Islam and Parsism. Not only in detail, but also in their nature these books must be differentiated in proportion as were different the clergy who wrote these ethical tracts from didactic works of a strong legendary element belonging to the pen of secular people. These literary monuments must be differentiated quite as much as their authors and with reference to them we may institute the same parallel which we suggested above between the Parsi clergy and the Iranophile party of the Shuubiya. [Footnote 1: Shayed-na-shayed.] [Footnote 2: _Shayast la-shayast_ West Pahlavi Texts, Part I, 1880. Sacred Books of the East, Vol. V. 237-407.] Furthermore, associated with these literary features was also that class of Arabic books, so well known and the period of which interests us, the books on _Questions and Answers._[1] [Footnote 1: Kitab al Masael wa Jawabat.] And this is precisely the form in which some of the better known of the Parsi books have been cast, for instance, the _Minog-i-Khrad_[1] and the _Dadistan_[2] The second of these books decidedly belongs to the ninth century. Its contents no doubt, were strongly divergent from others owing to its dependence on altered conditions. [Footnote 1: Sacred Books of the East, Vol. XXIV, 1-15.] [Footnote 2: Sacred Books of the East XVIII, 1-277.] We have already indicated the importance of the citations in early Arabic anthologies incorporated from Persian historical works.[1] This nature of quotations are to be found also in books on "good and bad morals and conduct." Further we find embedded in Arabic works a considerable amount of matter of great importance, a circumstance of vital moment for the investigation of the survival of Persian literary tradition. A number of passages similar to those found in these books are undoubtedly embodied in various Arabic anthologies. We give below from the two works _al Mahasin wal Masavi_ and _al Mahasin wal Azdad_ extracts bearing on Persian subjects.[2] [Footnote 1: See Noeldeke "National Epos" 13.] [Footnote 2: See Part II.] The list of Persian subjects comprised in these Arabic books afford us a sufficient idea of the wealth and variety of the material on these points to be recovered from Arabic discourses on manners and morals. CHAPTER VII The Book of Ali Ibn Ubaida ar Raihani _PAHLAVI RUSHNAI NAMEH_. We spoke above about the Arabic writer Ali ibn Ubayd ar Rayhani who was prone to Persian cultural tradition in general and to the literary tradition in particular. Besides the ethico-didactic book, _Mehr Adar Jushnas_, he is the reputed author of a book on Adab which has a Persian title (Fihrist 1, 119, 22 and II, 52),[1] and also another book the title of which could not be deciphered by Flugel when he edited the text of the Fihrist, (Fih. 119, 21). The title consists of two words which can be read conjecturally as _Rushna nibik_.[2] Such a name of a book we know to exist in Middle Persian literature.[3] [Footnote 1: _Kitab Adab Jawanshir_]. [Footnote 2: As regards the mutilation of Persian proper names in the Fihrist, such comparatively wellknown books as _Khuday_ Nameh appear in some of the manuscripts of the Fihrist as Baktiyar Nameh instead of _bakhuday Nameh_; see Rosen's essay on the Translations of the Khuday Nameh, 177.] [Footnote 3: West; Sacred Books of the East Vol. V. page 241, note 1, and Sacred Books of the East Vol. III, 169. [The first authority is not quite clear to me. The second authority is evident: "writing which the glorified Roshna, son of Atur-frobag, prepared--for which he appointed the name of the _Roshan Nipik_." Tr.] _Re_ the name of Rushen see Justi _Namenbuch_ 262 under the word Rozanis.] * * * * * Books of this title in Pahlavi literature related to a variety of religious problems and treated of ethicodidactic themes. The same title, further, we find in the Middle Persian literature. This is the title of the wellknown book of Nasir-i-Khusrao, namely, _Rushnai Nameh_, a considerable portion of which manifests Shia and Sufistic influences and which by its nature must have been connected with ethico-didactic literature.[1] It is quite possible that Ar Rayhani interested himself in Persian of ethics and morality literature and in Persian _Adab_ and gave his book the name of the 'Book Light' which treated of questions of this nature. This book formed, as no doubt its author did, the uniting link between the didactic Parsi clerical writings and the ethical literature of Islam. [Footnote 1: GIPh Vol. II, 280.] Now reading as Rushana Nibik the title of the book of Ar Rayhani occurring in the Fihrist, we establish a historical fact in literature. Not only redactions of Persian historical books like _Khuday Nameh_ and the _Ain Nameh_, not only diverse monuments of Persian ethico-didactic literature but also books with Pahlavi titles appear in the index of the books of the flourishing period of Arabic literature in Fihrist. This is a phenomenon of outstanding importance for the appreciation of the significance of Persian literary tradition in the first centuries of Islam. APPENDIX I _INDEPENDENT ZOROASTRIAN PRINCES OF TABARISTAN._ In the mountains to the south of the Caspian Sea the Persians defended themselves longer than in the rest of the Empire against the Arab invasion. Here the Arsacide princes had permitted the local tribes to rule, for these tribes were probably from the first almost independent and only acknowledged their paramountcy and paid tribute. They had the title of Spadhapati or in modern language _Ispehbed_ which was turned into the Arabic _Isfehbed_. One of them, Gushnasp Shah, is named as a contemporary of Ardashir I. It was only so late as in the time of Kawadh that this king succeeded in establishing a Sasanian prince, his son Keyus, as Shah of Tabaristan in 530. At the death of his father he contested the throne with Khusrow I, and was therefore slain by the latter in 537. His son Shapur remained in Persia, and a prince of the Arsacide house of Qaren, named Zarmihr, son of Sokhra was appointed governor. The administration of Rae, Derbend and a portion of Armenia was before now entrusted to Jamasp, a son of Peroz, who was succeeded by his son Narsi, while another son, Behvat, father of Surkhab became the ancestor of the kings of Shirvan who were known as Shirvan Shahs. Narsi's son was Peroz, the father of Farrukhan Gilanshah, whose capital accordingly was Gilan and who in 643 concluded a peace with the Arabs. Gil Gaubareh, the son of this prince, united, with the consent of Yezgird the III, who could not prevent him, Gilan with Tabaristan, where the dynasty of Zarmihr had come to an end. It cannot be doubted that Sasanian princes became the governors of these territories. The sons of Gaubareh were Daboe (660-676) and Patospan, in Pahlavi Patkospan or governor, in modern Persian Baduspan. Daboe was succeeded by his brother Khurshed (676-709). We possess coins struck by him in the years 706-709. Then came Daboe's son Ferkhan more correctly Farrukhan, the Great (709-722); he defeated several attempts on the part of the Moslems to penetrate the country. Our authorities are Tabari (vol. 2 p. 1321); Kitaboloyun (22-8); Zahireddin (45, 10.273, 14); Mordtmann (ZDMG 19, 494). His son Dad-Burzmihr died according to Zahireddin in 748, still his son Khurshed II already struck in 734 his first coin. He was defeated by the Arabs and took poison which he used to carry in his signet ring in 759. The Masmoghan or the "priest-prince," the successor of Zarathustrotema of Ragha or modern Rai, who had his seat in the city of Demawend or the Castle of Ustunavend, and who was the son-in-law of the Ispehbed, was defeated and the daughters of both the princes were married to members of the house of Abbas. The descendants of the Badusepan, whom Zahireddin carefully traces in all the branches of the family, ruled over Ruyan, Rustamdar, Nur and Kujur, down to the year 1453, when they divided themselves into two branches which continued to reign till 1567, and 1576. Another dynasty was the mountain rulers of Qaren, which is named after its founder. The first Qaren was the son of Sokhra, the brother of Zarmihr. These princes were also styled _Ispehbeds_. A descendant of Qaren was Vindad-Hormizd, who in conjunction with Shervin I of the house of Bavend, and with the Badusepan, Shahriyar I, conquered the Arabs in 783, but subsequently surrendered himself to Hadi and went to Baghdad till the latter became Khalif in 785. There is some confusion in the chronology of this dynasty also. A few rulers appear to be wanting because between the beginning of the dynasty in 565 to its close in 839 the average reign of the six princes would come to 45 or 46 years. Maziyar, son of Qaren, and grandson of Vindad-Hurmizd was at first defeated by Shahryar the son of Shervin of the Bavend dynasty and took refuge with the Khalif Mamun in 816-17, and returned after the victory over Musa Ibn Hafs in 825 but was himself worsened by the Arabs in 839 and executed. Thereupon Tabaristan came into the power of the Tahirides, the nominal governors of the Khalif in Khorasan. Our authorities are Beladhori 134, 14; Masudi 7, 137; Kitab ol Oyun 399, 6; Yaqut 3, 284, 4. 506, 10; Abulfida 2, 212, 2. The Bavend dynasty is a continuation of the Masmughans. Their original ancestor Bav who is characterised as son of Shahpur, son of Kayos, received from Khusraw II the governorship of Istakhr, Adharbaijan and Tabaristan, but retired himself into a fire-temple in the time of queen Azarmidukht. When the Arabs in 655 had advanced to the vicinity of Amul, the Mazenderanis invited him to lead them and he was the founder of the Bavend dynasty called after him. Now Bav was killed by Valash in 679, who did not belong to the dynasty and it was only 8 years later on that the son of Bav, Suhrab, more correctly Surkhab, came to the throne. With the last potentate of this first line of the Bavends was united by marriage the house of Ziyar which produced two celebrated princes of Gurgan, Vashmgir and Qabus. The other line, the "mountain kings" proper, sprang from a son of the last prince of the first line and was extinguished with the murder of Rustum by Sayed Husain in 1210. A third offshoot originating from a collateral branch of the second enjoyed princely power from 1237-1349. The Arabs had their governors in Tabaristan who in the first period minted coins with Sasanian impress and with Pahlavi legends; they were, however, from time to time expelled by the people. These coins struck by the Arabs after the model of the Pahlavi mintage were first deciphered by Olshausen. Ibn Khaldun is compelled to admit that "the Arabs are of all the people the least capable to govern a country." [Translated from Justi's contribution to _Grunddrisder der iranischen Philologie_. Vol. II, p. 547 seq.--G.K.N.] To the above concise sketch of the history of Tabaristan for the period which concerns us, which I have translated from Justi, one of the most sympathetic writers on Iran, a few paras may be added from the fascinating history of _Ibn-Isfandiyar_ which professor Browne has made accessible to us. Long after the Sasanian dynasty had fallen, and the rest of Persia had been subdued by the Arabs the Ispahabeds continued to strike their Pahlavi coinage and maintained the religion of Zoroaster in the mountains and forests of Tabaristan; and their struggles with the Arabs only ended about A.D. 838 by the capture and cruel execution of the gallant Maziyar, son of Qaren, son of Wanda-Hurmuz. For a vivid portrayal of the last days of this unfortunate scion of the lost empire of the Iranians the reader is referred to the vivid page of this English authority, who has reproduced the story of Zoroastrian aggressions in all its original spirit. And nothing less could be expected from a profound and sympathetic scholar to whom "All that concerns Maziyar is of supreme interest because it stands for the old Persian national and religious ideal". (p. XII). Those who still hold in the teeth of historical fact that the empire and religion of Iran were overturned at one fell stroke by the ferocious Arabs may be referred to the alliance between the Ispahbed Shirvin and Windad-Hurmuz which brought it about that from one end to the other of a large track of country, "without their permission no one dared enter the highlands from the plains, and all the highlands were under their control. _And when a Moslem died they would not suffer him to be buried in that country_". (p. 131). [italics mine, G.K.N.] I will not further quote at length from this volume as it is in English but I cannot resist the temptation to call attention to page 146, which supplies a typical instance of conversion by persuasion and not persecution. Further note that the Khalif Mamun had a Zoroastrian astrologer whose Zoroastrian name the Khalif arabicised into Yahya ibn Mansur (p. 146). Though Maziyar outwardly embraced Islam he was probably in secret a Zoroastrian inasmuch as he continued to have a large Magian following and "conferred various offices and distinctions on Babak, Mazdak, and other Magians _who ordered the Muhammadan mosque to be destroyed and all trace of Islam to be removed_." (p. 152-3). [Italics mine, G.K.N.] The Khalif Al-Muatasim was no less lenient in matters religious than some of the _Khulfa i rashidin._ In the year 854-55 he deputed one of his nobles to bid a Zoroastrian chieftain "break his Magian girdle and embrace Islam, which he did and thereupon received a robe of honour from the Khalif." (p. 157). At page 157 we notice the extortionate practices of a Magian. PARSI PRINCES DURING KHALIFAT. "In the time of the Arabs we find an actual principality whose ruler bore the title of _Masimogan_ or the elder of the Magians. To him also belonged the cities of Wima and Shalamba (Istakhri 209; Ibn Khurdadbeh 118; Ibn-al Faqih 284) as well as the territory of Khwar. [Magian princes during Khalifat (Tabari 12,656).] "The first definite mention of the _Masmoghan_ occurs in the year 131 A.H., in which Abu Muslim called upon the former to surrender and as he declined despatched Musa Ibn Kaab against him who however failed to effect anything against him. (Ibn al Athir vol. 5,304). It was only under Mamun that the mountainous country of the _Masmoghan_ was subjugated. The last prince, whose brother Aparwez fought on side of the Arabs, was taken prisoner and confined with his two daughters in the mountain fastness of Ustunawand in 141 A.H. (Tabari Vol. 2, 137). "The exact time of the rise of this principality is unknown. For the _Masmoghan_ Mardanshah who is mentioned by Saif in a treaty with Suwaid Mukarrin under Omar (Tabari 1, 2656), belongs positively to the time of Muhallab, 98 A.H. I surmise, however, that the Dynasty of the Magian Baw, the father of the renegade Mahgundat, whose Christian name was Anstasious, who became a martyr to Christianity in 628, originated from the village of Warznin in the territory of Rai (Acta Anstasii Persae, p. 26 & 56), and is connected with the Bawend dynasty which appeared just at this place in 167, and is definitely traced to the Magian Baw. (The authorities for the above are Tabari vol. 3, 1295 and Zahirud-din 205, see also ZDMG 49, 661.) "Baw is a pure Magian name and is a transcription of the Avesta _Bangha_ (Yesht 13,124). Another transliteration of the same word is Bohak, a name borne by a hero of Ispahan who with his six sons and an army joined Ardeshir (_Karnamak_ 4, 3, p. 22-19; Neoleke 46). It was also the name of a son of Hobakht, the chief _Mobed_ under Shapur II. Bahak, son of Fredon, was the ancestor of Aturpat Mahraspand (Bundahesh 33; West Pahlavi Texts 1, 145). Another form of the same name is B[=a]we, who was the _Astabed_ or _magister officiorum_ of the Persians (Josua Stylite ed. Wright 59). The first ruler of the Bawend dynasty who enters history is Sharwin ibn Surkhab (Tabari 3, 519). By the Arabs he was at first made a vassal controlling the slopes of the Alburz (Ibn al Faqih 304; Yakut 3, 283), and probably assumed the title _Padashkhwargar-shah_ which his descendants continued to hold in the time of al Beruni (_Chronology,_ p. XL, No. 7). In Yakubi (vol. 2, 479) he even bears the title of King of Tokharistaxi. After him is named Mount Sherwin on the boundary of Komish (Tabari 3, 1275; Ibn al Fakih 305; Belazuri 339, 7). In the year 201, that is, A.D. 816-17, however, the governor of Tabaristan, Abdallah Ibn Khurdadbeh, the father of the historian and geographer, invaded Larijan and Sarijan and annexed them to the empire of Islam. He likewise conquered the mountain land of Tabaristan and compelled Shahryar, the son of Sherwin, to surrender (Tabari 3, 1014). "But after the death of Shahryar, in 825-26, Maziyar Ibn Qaren contested the kingdom with his son Shapur and in alliance with the Moslems invaded Mount Sherwin, captured the sons of Shahryar and put them to death. (Tabari 3, 1093, Belazuri 339 and Ibn al Fakih 309.) However, a son of Shahryar named Qaren who had been detained at the court of Maziyar later on joined the Arabs and after the fall of Maziyar was restored to his paternal estate. "As regards the Avesta expression _Ragha Zarathushtrish_ in the Yasna 9, 18, it refers to political conditions of a much anterior age not yet reached by our historical investigations." [Translated from Marquarts, _Eranshahr_, p. 127 _seq_-G.K.N.] APPENDIX II _IRANIAN MATERIAL IN MAHASIN WAL MASAVI AND MAHASIN WAL AZDAD_. Professor Inostranzev gives a list of passages of Iranian interest which are to be found in the _Mahasin-wal masawi_ and in the _Mahasin wal azdad_ giving references to pages in the European editions. Unfortunately I have not been able to procure the latter and cannot verify the allusions. I, however, reproduce below the Iranian subjects touched upon in these two Arabic books on _adab_ in the Cairo editions. Iranian material from the Mahasin-wal masawi, Part I, p. 1. A dictum of Buzarjmahir. P. 82, A story of King Kobad. P. 96, A story of Anushirwan, "the wisest of men of his time in Persia". P. 110, A story of King Ardeshir. P. 122, Reference to a custom of the Persian kings and a story of Yazdajard. Iranian material from the Mahasin-wal masawi Part II. P. 62, A story about Shiruya, son of Aberwez. P. 74, A dictum of the Persians on eloquence. P. 75, A story about Buzarjmahir. P. 123, A story about Anushirwan. P. 125, A story about King Kobad and a MOBED. P. 131, A story of Anushirwan. P. 133, A dictum of Buzarjmahir. P. 154, A story of Hurmuz, son of Anushirwan. P. 155, A story of Bahramgor. P. 155, A story of the sense of justice of King Anushirwan. P. 166, A story of Anushirwan. P. 169, Reference to a ZAND book in connection with Islam. P. 170, A story of an Arab who acted as interpreter in Arabic to a Persian King. P. 178, A story as narrated by Kisrawi about Kisra, son of Hormuz. P. 178, Reference to a Majus or Zoroastrian. P. 194, A story of Shiruya, son of Kisra. P, 199, A quotation from Ibn-ul Muqaffa. P. 203, The story of Sabur-zul-aktaf. IRANIAN MATERIAL IN THE MAHASIN-WAL-AZDAD. P. 14, Story of King Abarwez. P. 17, Story of the Kisra. P. 35, Quotation from al Kisrawi, relating a story about Kisra, son of Hormuz. In this story the unfortunate general Afshin, the governor of Ashrushna, is plainly designated a _Majus_ or Zoroastrian. P. 51, A dictum of Bahramgor. P. 51, The conversation between the MOBEDAN MOBED and King Aberwez. P. 51, Reference to the book of "our" (Zoroastrian) religion _(Kitab din-na)._ P. 110, Reference to an inscription on a stone slab discovered in the treasury of a Persian king. P. 163, The story of Balash as narrated by Kisrawi, (on this story Baron Rosen bases his investigation of the Pahlavi _Khodaynama_.) P. 168, An anecdote of King Aberwez. Professor Inostranzev finds the following Iranian material in the Mahasin-wal masavi and the Mahasin-wal azdad (MM=Mahasin-wal Masavi, and MA=Mahasin wal-azdad): MA, 21, 4 to 10--MM, 490, 2 to 7. MA, 37, 12 to 14--MM, 128, 11 to 12. MA, 53, 14 to 16--MM, 571, 1 to 3. MA, 78, 5 to 9--MM, 202, 2 to 5. MA, 79, 2 to 6--MM, 202, 14 to 16. MA, 79, 6 to 11--MM, 202, 16 to 203, 2. MA, 168,20 to 3--MM, 310, 16 to 18. MA, 170, 2 to 3--MM, 313, 7 to 8. MA, 173, 8 to 16--MM, 372, 11 to 18. In connection with the importance of Kisrawi as regards the Persian literary material, these are the extracts from him in the two Arabic works: MA, 168, 20 to 269, 3--MM, 310, 16 to 18. MA, 53, 14 to 16--MM, 571, 1 to 3. MA, 359, 13 to 364, 6--MM, 376, 1 to 9. In view of the remarks by Browne (_Literary History_,471 to 475) regarding the significance of Persian words and expressions in the ancient Arabic literary works for the history of the Persian language, of particular importance are the excerpts from Kisrawi, MA 168,20 to 269, 3--MM, 310, 16 to 18, where occur Persian phrases from the maxims of Anushirwan "which as I think have been handed down to us in pure Pahlavi." Interesting is the interpretation of the Persian word _Mihman_ at another place in the same Arabic books, _viz_:--MA, 79, 6 to 11=MM, 202, 16 to 203, 2. APPENDIX III [Translation of Noeldeke's _Burzoe's Einleitung zu dem Buche Kalila wa Dimna_.] _BURZOE'S INTRODUCTION TO THE BOOK OF KALILA WA DIMNA._ [Sidenote: Burzoe's Introduction not fabricated.] The Arabic redaction of the Indian tales which we know under the name of _Kalila wa Dimna_ had two unquestionably genuine Introductions, that of the compilator Ibn Moqaffa himself who died in 142 A.H., and that of Burzoe who in the time of King Khusrow I, (A.D. 531 to 579) brought the book from India and translated it into the written Persian language of the time, the Pehlevi. The circumstances regarding the mission of Burzoe to India are still not clear. At any rate Ibn Moqaffa did not write as we read them now. Nevertheless it is by no means improbable that he had affixed to his book a report which, however, wan subsequently mutilated, of necessity, in diverse ways. The preface by Ala-ibn-Shah or Behbod, which has also been printed by de Sacy, which is found in a few manuscripts and which is not known to the ancient translations is a later and entirely valueless excrescence. The Introduction of Burzoe stood in the Pehlevi work which Ibn Moqaffa had before him. According to certain manuscripts this Introduction has been compiled--or however we translate the ambiguous term _tarjuma_--by Burzgmihir, the prime minister of Khusrow, much better known in polite literature than in history. [Naturally I do not deny altogether that Burzgmihir was a historical personage but he possessed by no means the importance which the tradition in question ascribes to him. The ascription is purely an erroneous inference from the above-mentioned report of the circumstances touching the mission of Burzoe, has not the slightest inherent probability, and is besides wanting not only in other manuscripts but also in all the older translations.] We cannot question the fact that this section of the Arabic work in the main reproduces the Introduction composed by the Chief physician Burzoe himself to the book translated by him into Pehlevi from an Indian language. That language as Hertel has shown was Sanskrit, which fact, however, does not preclude the possibility of an Indian interpreter translating the original text to the Persian who spoke a modern Indian tongue. Several passages speak to the fact that the author of the Introduction is the physician. Why should Ibn Moqaffa pretend that Burzoe earnestly studied medicine and practised it? Moreover, the section is familiar with those principles of Indian medicine of which Ibn Moqaffa could otherwise know little and the exposition of which he had no call to deal with. The entire situation seems to me to harmonise with the circumstances of the Persian physician. Specially noteworthy is the encomium on the Persian sovereign. [Sidenote: Ibn Moqaffa took liberties with the Pehlevi.] This is, however, not equivalent to saying that the Arabic text is an exact replica, down to details, of the original of Burzoe. In the first place it has to be observed that Ibn Moqaffa was no pure translator at all but a regular redactor of his model. His object was to prepare a work suitable to the taste of his highly educated readers and at the same time entertaining and instructive. He proceeded, therefore, not only with a tolerably free hand as an artist in words but added good many things of his own. Above all here we have to bear in mind the trial of Dimna. That this chapter is an addition by a Muslim who would not let pass in silence the acknowledgement of clever but demeaning intrigue was already recognised by Benfey and we need not doubt but that it originated with Ibn Moqaffa. I would also claim, for Ibn Moqaffa the somewhat unimportant history of the anchorite and his guest. The manner of his narrative we learn from his own preface. It is especially to be noted that here also as in the trial of Dimna he recounts anecdotes after the Indian fashion. [Sidenote: Ibn Moqaffa's religious scepticism.] It is accordingly not impossible that in our Burzoe chapter there are a few things which have originated not with the Persian physician of old but with Ibn Moqaffa; and this, I presume, as I showed long ago, specially from the disquisition on enquiry into the uncertainty of religions. It appears much more to fit in with Ibn Moqaffa than Burzoe. Ibn Moqaffa exchanged the religion of his Persian fathers for Islam only in his mature years,--certainly not because he saw in the latter perfect verity but because probably he was not satisfied with Zoroastrianism with which he was intimately familiar or with any of the other religions which in his time flourished openly or in secret in Iraq which was "the heart of the Empire". To such a man the scepticism of our section is natural, a fact which does not make it impossible that certain principles which were common to all the religions intimately known to the author remained also self-evident to Ibn Moqaffa,--such as God as the Creator, and the next world with its reward and penalties. Had Ibn Moqaffa, in his own name confessed to such religious doubts publicly no patron could have saved him from capital punishment. On the other hand he ran no risk in ascribing the questionable exposition to the Persian long since dead, who, however, supposing that he harboured such doubts could not have given expression to them as a physician attached to the Imperial Court of Persia. The belief in an inexorable fate which is evident in this chapter as well as in the entire portion attributable to Ibn Moqaffa could have been cherished, no doubt, also by a Mazdyasnian. This doctrine, therefore, speaks neither for nor against the authorship of Ibn Moqaffa. Equally far from decisive is the exhortation to pure morality which finds expression there. I am confirmed in my view that the passage on the unconvincing nature of religions proceeded from Ibn Moqaffa by a few couplets in the _Shahnama_. (Mohl vol. 5, 53 ff; Macan 1293). The king of India called Kaid has several dreams which are interpreted to him by the sage Mihran. The third dream, about four men pulling at a fine piece of cloth, each towards himself, without tearing it, is thus explained by him: "Know that the piece of cloth is the religion divine end that the four men who pull at it have come to preserve it. One of the religions is that of the Dihkans, the fire-worshippers, who may not take in hand the Barsom without pronouncing the prayer formula. "[The Dihkans were properly speaking the small landed nobility of the Sasanian times and as such were representatives of the ancient Persian religion; _barsom_ and the prayer formula or _baz_ are well-known components of their ritual.] "Another religion is that of Moses, which is called the Jewish religion, maintaining that none besides itself is worthy of praise; the third religion is of Greece, belongs to men of piety and brings equity to the heart of princes (this is Christianity). The fourth is the pure faith of the Arab which raises the head of the intelligent out of dust. Thus they struggle for the preservation of their religion and pull the cloth towards the four sides away from each other and become enemies for the sake of religion." [Sidenote: Ibn Moqaffa no sincere Muslim] This passage the basic principle of which accords with the reflections on religion in our chapter I would now with greater positiveness than before trace to Ibn Moqaffa (ZDMG 59, 803). It did not find a place in the old Pehlevi "_Book of Kings_" because the latter could recognise only the national religion as the right one and could not have taken into consideration Islam, even supposing that the last redaction of the official Sasanian history took place at a time when Muhammadanism had already come into existence. But Firdausi did not at all invent the material of his narrative. He merely compiled it and the major portion of the compilation goes back to the shape which Ibn Moqaffa had given to the ancient tradition (see what I have to say on this in my National Epic of Iran, _Grundriss der iran philogie_). In actuality Ibn Moqaffa was not believed to be a sincere Muslim. He is frequently stigmatised as Zindik or heretic (See _Aghani_ 13.81, 18 ff. 18, 200, 25 ff. Ibn Qotaiba, _Uyun_ 71, 9; further Ibn Khallikan 186, p. 125.) [The term zindiq probably originally denoted a certain rank among the Manichaeians or a similar religion and was then applied to suit a variety of infidels. The etemology, Aramaic Zaddiqy, has been recognised by Bevan.] Again the passage does not fit in with the tenor of the entire section. For Burzoe who was at a loss with regard to the physician's art, the main question is, whether he should or should not become an ascetic,--a question which must concern Ibn Moqaffa but little. The suitability of the addenda hardly admits of proof but we may state that Ibn Moqaffa did not simply interpolate but wove them artfully in his text and he might have omitted something here and there. [Sidenote: Burzoe influenced by Buddhism] It seems to me highly probable that Burzoe allowed himself to be influenced by the Buddhist romance, the original of which has perished and the best representative of which, is preserved to us in the Arabic _Bilauhar wa Budasf_ (See _Barlaam und Joasaph_ by E. Kuhn). Many a passage of our chapter is strongly reminiscent of the sentences of the romance, for instance, the dangers to the body remind one of those related at p. 53; the four principles or _akhalat_ appear at p. 9, and the parable of the man in the well is common to both. The parable which stands at the close of the chapter is, unless one is greatly mistaken, directly taken from the romance with little modification. It stands in the whole of _Kalila wa Dimna_ isolated, deviates in manner and tendency entirely from the story and also from what has issued from Ibn Moqaffa but is consistent with the monastic predilections of Burzoe. And his appraisement of the life of the recluse does not appear spontaneous but something to which he has laboriously compelled himself. One may surmise that it was really alive only in India. How far it was practised in actual life must remain unproved. We must not omit to mention that Burzoe points out that for an ideal physician his art earns also rich earthly profits. [Sidenote: English translation of the Introduction a desideratum.] So far as I know, of this chapter there is no translation in a European language except in the English by Knatchbull which appeared in 1819, which reproduced the imperfect text of de Sacy and is otherwise defective. Wolff did well to omit it in his German translation of _Kalila wa Dimna_ of 1837, for he could not have produced a correct rendering of de Sacy's text which was not completed till 1873 by Guidi. [Sidenote: Difficulties of translation.] Even now it is impossible to make a translation of Burzoe's Introduction which can stand the test of philology. We must first see whether with the use of all available manuscripts and a careful collation of other text sources we cannot arrive at a tolerably settled Arabic text. And that is, so far as I can conclude from my not quite insignificant material, not very probable. At all events a searching examination of all the manuscripts in the great Paris library is essential. The various texts of the book are considerably divergent. Arbitrariness and carelessness of transcriber have disfigured Ibn Moqaffa's work of art just because it presently became a favourite book of entertainment. The language at all events remains approximately correct in the manuscripts. Grammatical mistakes easy of correction are not seldom met with but pure vulgarisms occur only in a few copies like that of Berlin. The numberless variants have not much significance for the translator when it is only a question of synonyms, since for them the same European expression can do duty. And though it is not certain whether in the case of a multitude of non-essential or wholly analogous expressions the shorter or the extended text is the original one, that does not substantially affect the translation. There is scarcely any harm in curtailing the frequent tautology of this chapter. We should be well advised in case of successive synonymous abstract nouns and verbs such as occur frequently in Arabic to translate by a simple expression with an emphatic adjective or adverb. But not seldom the difference becomes great. It is a difficult situation when we are uncertain whether the passage which is found in several manuscripts and not in others is the original one. As a rule we have to decide in favour of the majority but as sometimes we do come across actual interpolations in some, so their existence is not impossible in others, although we can not be positive on the subject. [Sidenote: A monumental piece of literature.] The matter would have been less troublesome for me had I been able straight way to declare as the best the tradition of any of the manuscripts familiarly known to me or any old translation. That, however, is not so. I have to judge each case by itself and to proceed eclectically as much as my philological conscience permits. Finally, by means of my rendering I believe I have reproduced the import of this monumental piece of literature without showing absolute partiality to the Arabic document. My rendering is wanting doubtless in the elegance with which Ibn Moqaffa handles the language which in his time had acquired the capacity of treating even abstract subjects with lucidity. May a later hand improve upon my translation! Only those who attempt it can appreciate how difficult it is to make a tolerable European translation even of an easily intelligible Arabic text. A literal translation would be wooden. We have often to alter the entire construction and to insert all manner of words foreign to the Arabic to make the context clear. On the other hand the translator must avoid employing the same expression in rapid succession, a procedure which is common in Arabic even if we make allowance for the _figura etymologica_ and the like. [Sidenote: Ibn Qutaiba and Ibn Moqaffa.] I only know two passages in this chapter which are quoted by Arabic authors. Brockelmann informs me that no quotation from our chapter occurs in the unpublished portion of the _Uyun_ of Ibn Qutaiba. Unless I am mistaken the excerpts in this book from _Kalila wa Dimna_ are not always correct. Ibn Qutaiba was concerned more with the sense than with the phraseology of Ibn Moqaffa. THE STATEMENT OF BURZOE THE PERSIAN PHYSICIAN IN CHIEF, Who undertook to transcribe and translate this Indian Book (Kalila wa Dimna). [Sidenote: Autobiographical.] My father belonged to the Warrior class, my mother came of an eminent priestly family. One of the earliest boons which the Lord conferred on me was that I was the most favourite child of my parents and that they exerted themselves more for my education than for my brothers. So when I was seven years old they sent me to a children's school. [This was required to be mentioned in his case inasmuch as it could not have been necessary or usual for a child of distinguished parentage in early Persia to be educated in a public school.] When I had learnt the ordinary writing I was thankful to my parents and perceived something in knowledge. [In spite of the wide divergence in the Arabic texts and translations the sense of the original is clear. Note the reference to the difficult nature of the Pehlevi syllabary. Only the Spanish version has a good deal more about the schooling.] [Sidenote: Appreciation of the healing art.] And the first branch of science to which I felt inclination was medicine. It had a great attraction for me because I recognised its excellence and the more I acquired it the more I loved it and the more earnestly I studied it. Now when I had progressed sufficiently far to think of treating invalids I took counsel with myself and reflected in the following manner on the four objects for which mankind so earnestly strive. "Which of them shall I seek to acquire with the help of my art, money, prosperity, fame, or reward in the next world"? In the choice of my calling the decisive factor was my experience that men of understanding praise medicine and that the adherents of no religion censure it. I found, however, in medical literature that the best physician is he who by his devotion to his vocation strives only after a reward in the next world; and I resolved to act accordingly and not to think of worldly gain, so that I may not be likened to the merchant who sold for a worthless bead a ruby by which he could have acquired a world of wealth. On the other hand, I found in the books of the ancients that when a physician strives after the reward in the next world by means of his art he thereby forfeits no fraction of his worldly guerdon but that therein he is to be compared with the peasant who carefully sows his plot of ground to acquire corn and who subsequently without further effort gets along with the harvest all manner of vegetation. [The cultivator along with the harvest gets grass and vegetation which may serve as a pasture for cattle.] [Sidenote: Burzoe starts practice.] I, therefore, directed my attention to the hope of securing recompense in the next world by curing the sick and was at considerable pains in the treatment of all the deceased whom I hoped to cure and even such as were past all such hopes, whose suffering I endeavoured at least to alleviate. I personally attended those I could; but where this was not possible I gave the patients the necessary instructions and also sent medicine. And from none of those whom I so treated did I demand payment or other return. I was jealous of none of my colleagues who was my equal in knowledge and who excelled me in repute and riches; although as a matter of fact he was lacking in equity and good manners. When, however, my soul felt inclined to impel me to be jealous of such and to be covetous of a situation like his I met it with severity in the following manner:-- [Sidenote: Burzoe addresses his own soul. The physician's arduous calling.] [Sidenote: A simile.] O soul, dost not thou differentiate between what is useful and what is injurious to thee? Dost thou not cease wishing for the acquisition of that which secures for every one a small gain but which entails severe exertion and privation and which, when he must at last relinquish it, procures him much sorrow and severe punishment in the next world? O soul, thinkest thou not of that which succeeds this life and forgettest it because of thy avarice for the things of this world? Art thou not ashamed to live the evanescent terrestrial life in the company of men of feeble intellect and fools? It belongs not to him even who has something of it in his hand: it does not endure with him and only the infatuated and the negligent depend upon it. Desist from this irrationality and bend all thy might, so long as in thee lies, to exert thyself for the good and for divine recompense. Beware of procrastination. Reflect on the fact that our body is destined to all manner of unhappiness and permeated with the four perishable and impure principles which are enclosed in it, which struggle against each other, defeating each other by turn, and thus support life which itself is transient. Life is like a statue with several limbs. When properly adjusted each in its right place, they hold themselves together on a single pivot but which, when the latter is taken off, fall to pieces. O soul, do not deceive thyself owing to intercourse with friends and companions and do not strain thyself after it, inasmuch as this intercourse brings no doubt joy but also much hardship and tribulation and finally ends in separation. It is like a ladle which men use for hot soup, so long as it is new but when it breaks they have done with it--burn it. O soul, allow not thyself to be moved by family and relations to amass property for them so that thyself should perish. Thou shouldst, then, be like fragrant incense which is burnt only for the enjoyment of others. They are like a hair which men cherish so long as it remains on the head but cast it off as impure as soon as it falls. O soul, be steadfast in treating the diseased and give it not up because thou findest that the physician's profession is arduous and people do not recognise its uses and high value. Judge only thyself whether a man who cures in another a disease making him feel once more fresh and whole is not worthy of a great reward and handsome remuneration. This is the case with one who has solicitude for a single individual; how much more then is this so in the case of a medicineman who for meed in the next world thus acts towards a, large number of men, so that they after torturing pains and maladies, which shut them out from the enjoyment of the world, from food and drink, wife and child, feel once more as well as ever before. Who indeed merits larger reward and nobler retribution? O soul, do not put away from thy sight things of the next world because thou hungerest after passing life. For thou, in thy haste to acquire a triviality surrenderest the valuable; and such people are in the position of the merchant who had a house full of aloe wood and who said, "If I were to sell this by weight it would take me too long" and therefore gave it away wholesale for a trifling price. [Sidenote: Autobiographical] After thus I had replied to my soul and thereby explained matters to it and guided it aright it could not deviate from truth, yielded to righteousness and abandoned what it was inclined to. Accordingly I continued to treat the sick for the sake of my reward in the next world. This, however, by no means prevented my acquiring a rich portion of earthly goods before my journey to India as well as after my return from the kings, and that was more than I was ambitious of or had hoped for, for a man in my position and my calling. [Sidenote: Limitations of the healing art.] Thereafter I again reflected on the healing art and found that the physician can employ no remedy for a suffering patient which so completely cures his disease that it does not attack him again or that he is immune from a worse disorder. While, therefore, I was unaware how I could effect a perfect cure secure against the recurrence of a disease, I saw that on the other hand acknowledge of the next world was a permanent absolute protection against all distempers. Accordingly I conceived a contempt for the healing art and a longing for religious knowledge. [Sidenote: Uncertainty of religious Verity.] [Sidenote: Burzoe inquires of religious heads on matters divine: his disappointment.] When, however, this occurred to my mind it was not clear to me how matters stood with reference to religion. I found nothing in the writings on pharmacy which indicated to me the truest religion. So far as I saw there were many religions and creeds and their adherents were again disunited. Some inherit their religion from their fathers; others are compelled to adhere to it by fear and pressure; others again aim at worldly advantages, enjoyments and renown. Everyone claims for himself the possession of the true and right faith and denounces that of others as false and erroneous. Their views on the world and other problems are entirely conflicting yet each despises the other, is inimical to and censures every other creed. I then resolved to turn to the learned and leaders of every religions community with a view to examining their doctrines and precepts in order possibly to learn to distinguish between verity and nullity and implicity to give my adhesion to the former without altogether accepting as true what I did not understand. So I analysed, investigated and observed, but I found that all those people only held before me traditional notions. Each landed his faith and reviled that of others. It was, therefore, evident to me that their conclusions rested on mere imagination and that they did not speak with impartiality. In none did I find such fairness and integrity that reasonable people could accept their dicta and declare themselves satisfied with them. When I perceived this it was impossible for me to follow any one of the religions and recognised that if I put faith in one of them of which I knew nothing I should fare like the betrayed believer in the following story. [Sidenote: Anecdote of the credulous burglar.] Once upon a time a thief set out at night and along with his companions got up on to the roof of the house of a man of opulence. As they entered they awoke the owner who noticed them and perceived that at that hour they were on the roof with evil intent. He awoke his wife and gently said to her, "I see that up on the top of our roof there are thieves. I will pretend to sleep, wake me up in a voice loud enough to be heard by those on the roof and say to me, 'My husband, do tell me how you came by so much wealth and property.' When I make no reply whatever ask me very pressingly again." The woman accordingly asked him as she was ordered so that the house-breakers heard it all. The man replied, "My wife, luck has led you to great prosperity, so eat and drink, keep quiet and do not ask about it, because if I told it to you, some one would easily hear it and get something by it, which neither of us would like." She, however, persisted, "But my husband, do tell me, surely there is no one here to overhear us." "Well then, I will tell you that I have acquired all this wealth and goods by theft." "How did you manage it, when in the eye of the people you are still irreproachably honest and no one suspects you?" "By means of an artifice in the science of thieving: it is so handy and easy that no one can have any suspicion whatever." "How so?" "I used to manage this way: On a moonlight night I would go out with my companions, get up to the roof of the house of the person I wanted to rob as far as the sky light through which the moon shone and then uttered seven times the charm _Sholam Sholam Sholam_. I would then embrace the rays and slide down into the house without any body noticing my intrusion. Then at the other extremity of the moon-beams I again would seven times repeat the magic word and all the money and treasures in the house became visible to me. I could take of them whatever I would. Once more I would embrace the beams and rehearsing again seven times the magic word mount up to my companions and load them with all I had. Next we stole away unscathed." When the robbers overheard this they rejoiced exceedingly and said: "In this house we have got a spoil which is more valuable to us than the gold which we can get there; we have acquired a means by which God delivers us from fear and we are secure against the authorities." So they watched for a long time and when they had made sure that the master of the house and his wife had gone to sleep the leader of the robbers stepped up to the spot where the light streamed through the hole, spoke Sholam Sholam seven times, clasped the rays with the intention of dropping down along them and fell head foremost on the floor. The husband sprang to his feet with a club and thrashed him to a jelly asking him, "Who are you?" And he replied, "The deceived believer: this is the fruit of blind faith." [Sidenote: More religious investigation and more despair.] [Sidenote: A dilemma.] Accordingly, after I had grown sufficiently circumspect not to credit what might probably lead to my perdition, I started again investigating religions to discover the true one. But I again found no reply whenever I put questions to any one and when a doctrine was propounded to me I found nothing which in my judgment merited belief or served me as a guiding principle. Then I said, "The most reasonable course is to cling to the religion in which I found my fathers." Yet when I sought justification for this course I found none and said to myself, "If that be justification then the sorcerer also had one who found his progenitors to be wizards." And I thought of the man who ate indecently and when he was rebuked for it he excused himself by saying that his ancestors used to feed in the same gross way. Since, therefore, it was impossible for me to keep to the religion of my forbears and since I could find no justification for it, I desired once more earnestly to bestir myself and most carefully to examine the various religions and to consider minutely what they had to offer us. But then suddenly the idea struck me that the end was near and that the world would presently come to a close for me. Thereupon I pondered as follows:-- [Sidenote: Meditation of despair.] Perhaps the hour of my departure has already arrived before I could wring my hands. My deeds were once still such that I could hope they were meritorious. Now perhaps the prolonged hesitation over my search and investigation would turn me away from the good deeds which I practised formerly, so that my end would not be such as I strove for, and owing to my wavering and vacillation the fate of the man in the following anecdote would overtake me. [Sidenote: An anecdote: fatal hesitation.] A certain man had a love affair with a married woman. She had made for him a subterraneous passage opening into the street and its entrance was constructed close by a water jar. This she did for fear lest her husband or some one else should surprise her. Now one day when her paramour was with her word was brought that the husband was standing at the door. The lover hastened to get behind the jar but it had been removed by some one so he came to the woman and said, "I went to the passage but the jar of which you spoke was not there." To which the woman, said "You fool, what have you got to do with the jar? I mentioned it to point to you the way to the passage." "I could not be sure, since the jar was not near the passage, you should not have spoken of it to me and misled me." "Now save yourself, enough of your stupidity and hesitation." "But how shall I go since you spoke to me of the jar and even now confuse me?" Thus he remained there till the master of the house came up and seized hold of and belaboured him, and handed him over to the authorities. [Sidenote: Burzoe follows good principles common to all creeds.] [Sidenote: The properties of righteousness.] Since I was apprehensive of the risks of shilly-shallying I resolved not to expose myself to the danger and to confine myself entirely to such works as all men regard as benevolent and which are consonant with all the religions. I refrained, therefore, from assault, murder and robbery, and guarded myself against incontinence and my tongue from falsehood and all utterance calculated to harm any one, avoided the smallest deception, indecency of language, falsehood, calumny and ridicule and took pains that my heart wished ill of no one and that I did not disbelieve in resurrection and retribution and punishment in the next world. I turned away my mind from wickedness and adhered energetically to good, perceived that there is no better associate or friend than righteousness and that it is easy to acquire it with the help of God. I found that it has more tender solicitude for us than father and mother that it leads to good and gives true counsel like one friend to another, that use does not diminish but rather multiplies it, and that when employed it does not wear out, but is constantly renewed, and becomes more beautiful; that we need not fear that the authorities will snatch it from us, the enemy will rob or miscreants disfigure it, or water drown or fire will consume it, wild beasts attack it or that any thing untoward will happen to it. He who contemns righteousness and its consequences in the next world and permits himself to be seduced from it by a fraction of the sweets of this passing world, he who passes his days with things which do not permit piety to approach him, fares as did to my knowledge the merchant in the following story. [Sidenote: The careless Jeweller.] A merchant had many precious stones. To bore a hole through them he hired a man for a hundred pieces of gold a day and went with him to his house. As soon however, as he set to work, there was a lute and the workman turned his eyes towards it. And upon the merchant questioning him whether he could play upon it he replied, "Yes, right well." For he was indeed proficient in the art. "Then take it" said the merchant. He therefore took it and played for the merchant the whole day beautiful melodies in proper tune so that the jeweller left the caset with the precious stones in it and filled with joy kept time, nodding his head and waving his hand. In the evening he said to the jeweller, "Let me have my wages," And when the latter said, "Have you done anything to deserve the wage?" he replied, "You have hired me and I have done what you ordered me to do." So he pressed him till he received his hundred pieces without any deduction, while the gems remained unbored. [Sidenote: Aversion to pleasures of the world: Buddhistic pessimism.] The more I reflected upon the world and its joys the deeper grew my aversion towards them. Then I made up my mind entirely to devote myself to the life of the blessed and the anchorite. For I saw that asceticism is a garden the hedge of which keeps off at a distance eternal evils, and the door through which man attains to everlasting felicity. And I found that a divine tranquility comes over the ascetic when he is absorbed in meditation; for he is still, contented, unambitious, satisfied, free from cares, has renounced the world, has escaped from evils, is devoid of greed, is pure, independent, protected against sorrow, above jealousy, manifests pure love, has abandoned all that is transitory, has acquired perfect understanding, has seen the recompense of the next world, is secure against remorse, fears no man, does none any harm and remains himself unmolested. And the more I pondered over asceticism the more I yearned for it so that at last I earnestly thought of becoming an ascetic. [Sidenote: The trials of an anchorite: the greedy dog.] But then apprehension came upon me that I should not be able to support the life of a hermit and that the ordinary way in which I had grown up would prove an hindrance. I was not sure that, should I renounce the world and adopt asceticism, I should not prove too feeble for it. Moreover, should I give up such good works as I had previously performed in the hope of salvation, I should be in the position of the dog who with the bone in his mouth was going along a river. He saw his reflection in the water, suddenly dashed forward to seize it and consequently let fall what he had in the mouth without securing what he wanted to get. So I grew uneasy regarding the recluse's life and was afraid lest I should fail to bear it and thought therefore rather to continue the career of my life. [Sidenote: Worldly Monastic life.] [Sidenote: A series of similes.] However, it occurred to me to compare the discomforts and straits of monasticism, which I feared I should be unable to support, with the wants of those who remain in the world. Then it became clear to me that all the joys and pleasures of the world turn to discomforts and bring sorrow. For the world is like salt water. The more one drinks of it the more thirsty one becomes; like a bone found by a dog on which he still sniffs the flavour of flesh, he bites to get at it but only to tear the flesh of his teeth and make his mouth bleed and the more he struggles the more he makes it bleed; like the vulture that has found a piece of flesh, it attracts other birds in a flock so that for a long time it is in trouble and flies till at last, quite exhausted, it drops its prey; like a pot filled with honey and with poison at the bottom, he who eats of it has a short enjoyment but at last death by venom; like a dream which rejoices the sleeper who finds when he awakes his joy vanished; like lightning that brings brilliance for a moment but quickly disappears, he who builds his hope upon it abides in darkness; like the silk worm the more it spins itself into the silk the more impossible it finds to come out. [Sidenote: More internal struggle.] After I had pondered thus I once more proposed to my soul to elect asceticism and had yearning for it. Nevertheless I opposed it with: It will not do that I should seek refuge from the world in asceticism when I think of the evils of the world and then again seek refuge in the world from asceticism when I consider the privations and discomforts of the latter. I continued in a state of prolonged vacillation without firm determination like the Kazi of Merv who at first heard one party and decided in his favour and against the other and then heard the other and gave judgment in favour of the latter as against the first. And when again I reflected upon the frightful discomforts and straits of monasticism I said, How trifling it is all in comparison with eternal peace. And then once more thinking of the joys of the world I exclaimed, How bitter and pernicious they are which lead to perpetual perdition and its horrors; how can a man not regard as sweet the little bitterness which is succeeded by sweet that endures and how can a man not regard as bitter a bit of sweet that ends in greater and abiding bitterness? If it was offered to a man that he should live a hundred years but that every day he should be hacked to pieces and should be called to life again the following day and so on, provided that at the close of the century he should be delivered from the torture and pain and be in security and delight, he would account as nothing the whole years. How can a man then not bear the few days of asceticism, the inconveniences of which are succeeded by much that is beautiful? And we know that the entire world bears privation and torment and that man from his origin as foetus till the end of his days is subject to one suffering after another. Moreover, we find the following in books of medicine. [Sidenote: Man in embryo: his torments till and after death.] [Sidenote: Tribulations of human existence.] When the liquid, of which the perfect child is to be built, enters the uterus of the woman, and mixes itself with her liquid substance and her blood it becomes thick and pulpy. Next the liquid is stirred by a wind and becomes like sour milk and later on hard like curdled milk. After a certain number of days the individual members become separate. If it is a man child its face is turned to the back of the mother; if it is a female it is turned towards the belly. In the foetus the hands are on the cheeks and the chin is on the knee. It is all bundled up in the foetus as if it was thrust into a pouch. It breathes through a narrow opening. Each member is bound by a chord. Above it is the heat and the pressure of the mother's womb; below are darkness and constriction. It is tied with a piece of its navel to that of its mother, sucks through it and lives upon her food and drink. In this position it remains in gloom and confinement till the day of birth. When that day comes a wind acquires control of the womb, that child acquires strength to rise, turns the head towards the opening and experiences in this confinement the pain of one forced into a distressing torture. Should it fall to the ground or be touched only by a breath of wind or should it come in contact with one's hands it feels greater pain, than a person that is flayed alive. The new born babe then suffers all manner of torment. When it is hungry it cannot ask for food; thirsty, for drink; when in pain it cannot call for help. Besides it is lifted up, laid down, wrapped up, swathed, washed and rubbed. When it is laid to sleep on the back it cannot turn. Again so long as it is given the suck it is subjected to all manner of other tortures. When it is finally delivered from these, it is liable to those of education and has then to suffer a great deal, the brusqueness of the teacher, the unpleasantness of the instruction, the disgust at writing. Next he has his rich portion of medicine, diet, aches and illnesses. When he has outgrown these, he is troubled with wife, child and property and is pulled about by covetuous ambition and is exposed to the peril of longing and desires. All this while he is menaced by his four internal enemies, gall, blood, bile and wind; and furthermore, mortal poison, snakes that bite, animals of prey and reptiles, the alternation of heat and cold, rain and storm as well as finally the various plagues of age, if at all he survives those. But should he have nothing to fear from all this and were he secure with regard to these calamities, when he thinks of the moment when death must come and he musk give up the world, what a miserable plight is his, at the thought of the hour he has to separate himself from family, friends, and relations and all that is precious on the earth, and when he reflects that there is in store for him after death fearful horrors? Then must he be considered of feeble intellect, neglectful and a suitor for misfortune should he do nothing for his soul, should he not employ all art in behalf of the soul, and should he not renounce altogether the pleasures and errors of the world which till then had seduced him. [Sidenote: Eulogy of the reigning Monarch.] [Sidenote: Fallen on evil days.] [Sidenote: How the world's misery outweighs its joys.] But this holds especially good of modern times which have become worn out and fragile, which appear pure but are turbid. God has given the king good fortune and success. He is equally circumspect, mighty, magnanimous, profound examiner, upright, humane, liberal, a lover of truth, grateful, of broad comprehension, mindful of right and duty, indefatigable, strenuous, with insight, helpful, serene of mind, intelligent, thoughtful, gentle, sympathetic, kind, one who knows man and things, friend of learning and the learned, of the good and of benevolent people, but severe to the oppressor, not timid, nor backward, dexterous in granting in abundance to his subjects what they desire and averting from them what they do not like. Yet we see that our days are retrogressive in every way. It is as if man were divested of truth, as if that should be absent which one sadly misses and as if the harmful were there, as if the good were withering and the evil flourishing, as if the sinners were proceeding with a smile and the righteous receding in tears; as if knowledge was entombed and irrationality propagated, as if wretched intent was spreading and nobility of thought restricted; as if love was cut off and malice and hatred had become favourites; as if rectitude were divested of prosperity which had betaken itself to the malefactor; as if craftiness were awake and truth were asleep; as if mendacity were fruitful and veracity was left in the cold; as if those in power held before them the duty to act according to their own inclinations and to violate law, as if the oppressed were in dejection and made way for the tyrant; as if greediness on all sides had opened its jaws and swallowed all that was far and near; as if there was no trace left of contentment; as if the wicked had exalted themselves to Heaven and had made the good sink into the ground; as if nobility of mind were thrown from the loftiest pinnacle to most abysmal depths, as if turpitude were in honour and authority and as if sovereignty had been transferred from the exalted to the mean--in fact as if the world in the fullness of its joy were crying, "I have concealed the good and brought the evil to light." When, however, I reflected on the world and its condition and on the fact that man, although he is the noblest and foremost of creatures in it, is still in spite of his eminent position, subject to one misery after another and that this is his notorious peculiarity so that whoever has even a tittle of reason must be convinced that a human being is unable to help himself and to exert for his salvation,--this greatly astonished me, as further consideration told me that he is debarred from salvation only because of the small miserable enjoyments of smell, taste, sight, hearing and feeling of which he may receive a fraction or enjoy a particle but which is insignificant being so transient. He is, however, so much taken up with it that on its account he does not trouble himself for the salvation of his soul. Then I looked for a similitude for this behaviour of human beings and found the following: A certain person was fleeing from a danger into a well and suspended himself by clinging to two branches which grew on its edge, his feet striking against something which supported them. When he looked round there were four serpents which were projecting their heads from their holes. As he looked into the bottom of the well he noticed a dragon with its jaws open expecting him to fall his prey. And as he turned his head up to the branches he observed at their roots a black and a white mouse which were ceaselessly gnawing at both. While he was contemplating the situation and casting about for a means of escape he descried near him a hollow with bees that had made some honey. This he tasted and he was so much absorbed in its deliciousness that he no more thought of the condition he was in and that he must devise some contrivance of escape. He became oblivious of the fact that his feet rested against four serpents and that he did not know which would attack him first, forgot that the two mice were without cessation nibbling at the boughs by which he was hanging, and that as soon as they had gnawed them through he would drop into the jaws of the dragon. And so in his heedlessness he yielded to the enjoyment of the meed till he perished. I compared the well with the world which is brimful of all manner of harm and terrible perils, the four snakes with the four humours which constitute the physical basis of man, but which, should they be excited, prove mortal poison; the branches to life, the black and white mice to night and day which in perpetual alternation consume our lifetime; the dragon with death inevitable; the honey to the particle of joy which man derives from his senses of smell, taste, sight, hearing and feeling, but which makes him oblivious of himself and all his circumstances and decoy away from the path to emancipation. So circumstanced I found myself, and endeavoured to conduct myself with as much rectitude as possible in the hope once again to experience a time when I should acquire a guide for myself and help for my cause. I remained in this stage till I returned from India to my homeland after I had made a copy of this book and a few more. APPENDIX IV _THE TRIAL OF AFSHIN._. _A DISGUISED ZOROASTRIAN GENERAL_. [Afshin was a Zoroastrian at heart. His trial and condemnation are referred to by Browne, _Literary History of Persia._ I take the account direct from Tabari. It is to be found also in Ibn Athir and Ibn Khaldun. The legal procedure reveals prominently the condition under which professed non-Moslems lived--religious liberty was granted to them. Note that it was possible to chastise ecclesiastical officers like Imams and Muezzins because of their interference with the religious practices of non-Moslems. Observe the part played by a Mobed at a criminal trial conducted according to Muhammadan usages. The Zoroastrian priest, who subsequently embraced Islam, comes forward to give evidence against the most puissant but covert co-religionist of his times.] It has been related by Harun son of Isa, son of Mansur as follows:--I was present in the house of Muatisim and there were there Ahmad bin Ali Dawud and Ishaq bin Ibrahim son of Masab and Muhammad bin Abdal Maliq al Zayyad. They then brought Afshin who was yet not in rigorous imprisonment, and there were present people who were prepared to cause Afshin to shed tears. There was nobody in the house belonging to any high position except the sons of Mansur, for, the people had left. Those present were Muhammad bin Abdal Maliq al Zayyad and there were Mazyar, the ruler of Tabaristan, the Mobed, and the Marzban son of Urkesh, one of the chieftains of Sughd, and two people from among the Sughdians. Then Muhammad Ibn Abdal Maliq called the two people whose clothes were torn and asked them how they were. They then uncovered their backs which were torn of the flesh. Muhammad turning to Afshin asked "Do you know these?" "Yes, this man is the Mauzzin and this, one is the Imam who made a mosque at Ashrushana, and I struck each of them a thousand lashes, and that was because there was a covenant between myself and the kings of Sughd including a clause to the effect that I should leave each community to its own religion. But these two people attacked a shrine which had images in it, a shrine which was at Ashrushna, and they took out the images and turned the shrine into a mosque. I therefore struck them one thousand lashes for this transgression of theirs." Then Muhammad asked Afshin, "What is the book which you have got which you have adorned with gold and gems and brocade? Its contents are impious with reference to God?" Afshin replied, "This is a book which I have inherited from my father and it contains the manners of the Persians, and as regards the impiety to which you refer I take advantage of the book in so far as the manners are concerned and I leave all the rest. And I found it bejewelled and as there was no occasion for me to take off the gems I left it as it was just as you have left with yourself the book _Kalileh and Dimneh_ and the _Book of Mazdak_ in your house. For I don't think the book would make me lose my Islam." Then came forward the Mobed and referring to Afshin said, "This man is used to eating animals that have been strangled and he suggested the eating of it to me alleging that the flesh was more fresh than the flesh of slaughtered animals. And he used to kill a black goat every Wednesday and tearing it up with his sword he would pass through the two halves, and he would then eat the flesh. And one day he told me, 'I have entered this community [Islam] with reference to every detail of theirs which I hate so that I have eaten of olive oil, have ridden on camels, have put on the Arabian shoes, but although I have gone to this extent I have not in any way been injured and no harm has come to me: nor have I had myself circumcised.'" Then Afshin said "Let me know as regards this man who is speaking these words whether he is a staunch believer in his own religion." Now the Mobed was a Magian who subsequently received Islam at the instance of the Khalif Mutawakkil and repented of his previous belief. They replied, "No." Afshin then said, "What is the meaning of your adducing the evidence of a man who is not firm in his own faith?" Then turning to the Mobed Afshin said, "Was there between your house and my house any door or any hole through which you could look at me and learn my movements?" "No," said the Mobed. Afshin then asked, "Was I not then introducing you into my private affairs and informing you regarding my Persian nationality and my inclination towards it and towards the people of the race?" "Yes," said the Mobed. Said Afshin, "Now you are not firm in your own religion, and you are not faithful to your promise when you have revealed the secret confided by me to you." Then the Mobed withdrew and the Marzban turned up. Afshin was asked whether he knew him, and said "No." Then the Marzban was asked whether he knew Afshin and said "Yes. This is Afshin." Afshin was then told that this was the Marzban and the Marzban turning to Afshin said; "Oh cutthroat, why do you prevaricate and shuffle?" Afshin said, "Oh you long-bearded one, what are you talking?" The Marzban said "How do people under your jurisdiction address you when they write to you?" Afshin replied; "Just in the way they used to write to my father and grandfather." "Then tell us the way." "No, I won't." "Do not the people of Ashrushna write to you in such and such a way?" "Now, does this not mean in Arabic, 'to the high God from his slave so and so?'" [Ibn Khaldun is here clearer than Tabari. The term used was _Khoday_ which in Persian meant Lord, applicable equally to God and any high dignitary. The original 'Pahlavi' title of the Shahnameh was Khodaynameh.] "Yes." Muhammad Ibn Abdal Maliq asked upon this, "Do they tolerate such a thing? For what greater blasphemy would be left to Pharaoh to commit who suggested to his people 'I am your God the Highest.'?" Afshin replied, "This was the custom of the people in my father's and grandfather's times and it was also the custom with me before I embraced Islam. And then I did not like that I should lower myself before them. For then I should have lost their allegiance and the obedience that they owed me." Upon this Ishaq Ibn Ibrahim Ibn Musab said, "Fie, fie on you, Hyder." [Afshin is sometimes referred to as Hyder.] Then turned up Mazyar the chief of Tabaristan and Afshin was asked whether he knew him. He said "No." Mazyar was asked if he knew Afshin. Then they told him that this was Mazyar. "Yes, I know him now." "Did you ever have correspondence with him? No." Then turning to the Marzban they asked, "Did he ever write to you?" "Yes," said Mazyar, "His brother Khash used to write to my brother Quhyar to the effect that this splendid religion of theirs will have help from nobody except himself, Quhyar and Babak." [In the sequel Tabari relates how when Afshin's house was searched, after he was starved to death, among other incriminating articles a book was discovered sumptuously bound and bedecked with gems which related, to the old faith of Iran.] APPENDIX V _NOELDEKE'S INTRODUCTION TO TABARI_. [The Arabs have long been credited with maintaining learning and civilisation in general when Europe was slumbering in its dark ages. History as a science was rarely known even to the gifted Hindus. The Arabs cultivated it with peculiar enthusiasm. Wustenfeld has collected the lives of 590 historians, the first of whom died in the year 50, and the last was born in 1061 A.H. But it is now proved beyond all doubt that many of these writers were Persians who employed the Arabic language and that the art of Arab annalists had its root in the archives of the Sasanians. We owe this discovery to Goldziher and Von Kremmer in the first instance, and to Brockelmann, Browne, Blochet and Huart who have done ample justice to the Iranian element in Arab culture. One of the best of these histories is by Tabari. Noeldeke translated in 1879, the portion relating to the Sasanians into German, and added footnotes to his translation, which are a mine of information on pre-Moslem Persia. The introduction which he wrote to his translation is equally valuable especially for the light it throws on the sources of Firdausi. The following is a translation of that German introduction by Noeldeke. Tabari was a most prolific author and is reported to have written daily forty sheets for forty years. He was of pure Iranian descent G.K.N.] [Sidenote: Tabari's method.] Abu Jafar Muhammed bin Jarir born in the winter of 839 at Amul not far from the Caspian Sea in the Persian Province of Tabaristan, hence called Tabari, and who died in Baghdad on the 17th February 923, wrote many, partly very large, works in the Arabic language, among them an extremely voluminous chronicle, which reaches from the creation down to nearly the close of his life. Tabari, mainly occupied with theological tradition, was no man of original research or of historical acumen even in the sense applied to a few other Persian scholars in those centuries. His annals are a compilation, a mass of rich material put together with extraordinary industry. He does not work into unity the various versions in his divergent sources, but simply brings them up in order one after another. But it is just this circumstance which considerably enhances in our eyes the value of the work; for in this way the older reports themselves are preserved more faithfully than if the chronicler had laboured to reconcile them one with the other. [Sidenote: Abounds in extracts from Arab and Iranian predecessors, but does not mention his sources.] The principal value of Tabari's compilation consists in the extremely exhaustive presentation of the history of Islam from the first appearance of the Prophet; no other Arabic work in this respect can compare with his. The pre-Islamic history comprises, may be, a twentieth portion of the whole work and gives a very groat deal of what we would rather be without. Of the highest moment, however, is the tolerably detailed section on the history of the Sasanides and their times embodied in it, and whose German translation forms the text of our book. This section goes back partly to good Arabic records and mostly, at least mediately, to very important ancient Persian sources. But the stories from the mythological and historical traditions which appear scattered in Tabari in proceeding sections have a cognate origin. If the criticism of the sources is here very much facilitated on the one hand, because these orientals where they excerpt love to adhere, as far as possible, to the letter of their models or sources, it is on the other, rendered difficult because Tabari does not mention his immediate authorities. Only in reports of theological interest, to which the whole of the history of the growth of Islam belongs, he proceeds to indicate his sources with precision; otherwise he cites at the best an old authority come down to him only obliquely, and in most cases none at all. Throughout the Persian history he never names an authority, barring Hisham, whom he quotes here and there and who was an acknowledged authority in another province of tradition. [Sidenote: Story of Persia based on indigenous original work.] [Sidenote: Occasional identity of Firdausi and Tabari.] The story of Persia from the first mythical Kings to the last of the Sasanides exhibits in Tabari, as in allied Arabic works, a certain similarity of conception and presentation which leads to the assumption of an indigenous original work at least respecting a very large portion. Now the Shahnameh of the great poet Firdausi, a national epic of the kind which no other people possess, while it on one hand, apart from the poetic license indulged in by Firdausi, contains much that is either not found at all or is essentially differently related in Arab writers; on the other, considerably accords with those Arab annalists in the order, in the whole structure, and in the details of the narrative. Indeed the poet often reproduces almost the identical phraseology of the historian. But now since according to both tradition and internal grounds Firdausi's bases were not Arabic books, the coincidence must be explained from a common ultimate source. The original work has been reflected to us in Tabari and other Arabs as well as Firdausi through a series of intermediate texts. To judge by the express statements and suggestions as also by various features in style and phraseology and further by all that we are aware of touching the circumstances of the literature we can say with certainty that, that original work like all other Persian narrative productions of the Sasanides and of the period of Arab conquest was composed in the written, language of this period, the Pahlavi. The most important connected presentment of Persian history in Pahlavi to which our reports go back is no doubt the _Khoday Nameh, i.e.,_ the "Book of Lords" a title which answers to the subsequent Shah Nameh or "Book of Kings." Hamza mentions that name. The prose introduction to Ferdausi says that the "Book of Kings" was written first of all at the instance of Khushrau I Anoshirwan, but that the complete story was compiled only under Yazdegerd III by the Dihkan Danishwar. This work which it would not be too bold to identify with the _Koday Nameh_ began with the primeval king, Gayomarth, and reached down to the termination of the reign of Khushrau II, surnamed Parwez. Although this introduction to Ferdausi dates but from the fifteenth century, and as for details is disfigured by inaccuracies and fictions, I attach weight to what it indicates respecting the time of its composition. In fact the concord of the narrative in the various sources reaches down to the death of Parwez and then abruptly ceases; while there are no vestiges to demonstrate that the completion of the original work was brought about subsequent to the victory of the Arabs. And the legitimistic nature of the story Is especially in keeping with the times when usurpation and insurrections of all sorts had run their course, and when the people looked forward with, the inauguration of the rule of the youthful grandson, of Parwez, who was crowned at the sacred place where the dynasty took its rise, to an era of prosperity to the ancient monarchy,--a hope which was fearfully crushed with the loss of the battle of Kadisiya towards the close of 637. Again the replies made by the imprisoned king which have been reproduced in different sources suit the times of the Yezegerd who descended from Khusrau II and not Sheroe, Khusrau's brilliant career despite its shady side strongly contrasted with the period ushered in by the patricide. A small piece of writing which depicts the first stormy years of Khusrau's domination in a romantic fashion seems to have arisen about the same time. I am less certain about the name Danishwar. It was probably an adjective signifying "possessed of knowledge." It was easy for anyone who knew from Firdausi that the landed nobility called the Dihkan constituted the peculiar custodians of national lore to name a "learned Dihkan" as the collector of the stones of kings. The compilation prepared at the time had undoubtedly drawn upon written documents without which It would have been impossible to give minute particulars of a long by-gone past. Besides the brief notices communicated by the Syrian Sergius to Agathias from the _Basilika apomnemoneiumata_ are in the main in unison with our Arabo-Persian stories. Thus then in Khushro's time there existed a general survey of the history of Persia more or less in an official version. But otherwise there is no need to lay stress on the mention of Khushrau here, for all manner of things beneficial and good are ascribed to this king. [Sidenote: Nature of the Khoday Nameh.] The book of kings contains, as we said, the story of Persia from the creation of the world to the fall of the last purely national domination. It made no distinction between wholly mythical, semi-fabulous, and fully historical dynasts, so that the Arabs and Persians who drew upon it never suspected that e.g., Hoshang and Rustam are not such historical persons as Shahpur I and Bahram Chobin. But in the material itself we notice a conspicuous difference. The mythical tales which in their crude nascent forms were already there at the period of the Avesta were in course of time richly developed and under the Sasanides were no doubt universally known. To these were joined ecclesiastical speculation and traditions concerning the genesis of the world, civilisation and the legislation of Zoroaster. There were also several genealogical trees. In all these at the most a few proper names were historical. Of the empires of the Medes and of Persians proper this tradition had no knowledge. It is doubtful if it contained even quite a feeble reflex of the last days of the Achaeminides. On to this ancient autochthonous tradition was immediately joined the story of the last Darius and Alexander emanating from a foreign source, the Greek romance of Alexander. Not more than a few names was all that was preserved of the long period covering the Macedonian and the Parthian supremacy. With the Sasanides the national reminiscences became clearer. Round the founder of the dynasty were accreted, on the one hand, legends wholly fabulous and on the other, such as embodied excellent historical data. But the latter seem to be inadequately represented in the main work, the Khodayname. Again very few particulars were known of the reigns of the succeeding sovereigns down to Yezdegerd I. In the chapters which correspond to those of the old Book of Kings just this want of actual information, it seems, the compilers strove to veil behind rhetorical accounts of scenes of homage done to the rulers, imperial speeches from the throne, etc. For the following ages on there was, in general, good, partly very authentic information. But this entire presentment did not concern itself solely with veracity. The Iranians who from very remote antiquity extravagantly lauded truth, had in reality never any great sense of it. The _Khoday Nameh_ and kindred productions were unfairly biassed and rhetorical. The ornamental and figurative ingredients are indicated even by the Arabic reproductions, though the latter are greatly condensed. A classic testimony to it has been kindly communicated to me by Baron Von Rosen which is a passage from a Petersberg manuscript of _Albayan Wattabyin_ of Jahiz in which the Shuubiya or the Persians, who, though Muslims placed their nation above the Arabs say: "And he who is interested in reason, fine culture, knowledge of ranks, examples and penalties, in elegant expressions and superlative thoughts, let him cast a glance at the _History (more properly the Vitae) of Kings."_ History of the Kings, _Siyar-ul Muluk_, is the title of the Arabic rendering of the Book of Kings in Pahlavi. Compare likewise Hamza's remarks on the works on Persian history. I have laboured to show the partiality of the Persian tradition in the footnotes. The narrative is conceived in a monarchical and legitimistic spirit, but equally all along from the view point of the superior nobility and the clergy. Add to this the exertions to cry up as much as possible the glory of Persia which sometimes produces a strange effect. Moreover, there must have been no lack of contradictions as to facts as well as respecting estimates of personal character which was inevitable owing to the employment of varying sources. Nevertheless a work like this written under the Sasanides and familiar with the state of things obtaining in the empire and more or less of an official nature, must have been an admirable fount of history. There was hardly ever a better presentment of the story of this house than the _Khoday-Nameh_. [I have translated the entire passage from the since printed text. See p. 170.--G.K.N.] Since, barring the small book treating of Ardeshir's adventures, no original Pahlavi document in the domain of historical or romantic literature has descended to us and even the Arabic recensions made directly from the original general history in Pahlavi have perished, we are altogether left in uncertainty touching many most important points. We cannot, for instance, ascertain whether alongside of the _Khoday-Nameh_ there existed also other general continuous narrations or whether the deviations, which are for the most part trifling, in some cases of great moment, already existed in the Pahlavi work or are traceable to various recensions of that book. It would not be rash, to assume that some copies of the work contained additional matter taken from other Pahlavi books like the Romance of Bahram. Bahram the high priest of the city of Shapur collected, according to Hamza, more than 20 manuscripts of the _Khoday-Nameh_ and from their divergence made out another independent recension. Musa Ibn Isa Kesravi complains of the variants in the copies of the work; the latter author who speaks of defects in translation has in view only the Arabic redactions. The text, however, of Tabari, at all events and more so a comparison of Tabari and other Arabs with one another and with Firdausi exhibits that entire sections of the History of Kings were already in the Pahlavi original in essentially different shapes. Otherwise, it would not be possible, for instance, that where Tabari offers two different versions, one should harmonise with Eutychius and Ibn Kotaiba (derived from the translation of Ibn Mukaffa) and the other should agree with the Arab Yakubi and often with Firdausi, who goes back to the Pahlavi text not directly but mediately through compositions in modern Persian. It is very important for a knowledge of the history that thus we have at our command all manner of dissonant reports about the Sasanide epoch. But we have to observe all the same that the character and the tendency of the several versions are almost all along consistent and further more that often we have more recensions than one which differ but little and which have one and the same ground-work or prototype. The question whether this difference is older or younger than the _Khoday-Nameh_ has more literary than historical significance. [Sidenote: Translation of _Khoday-Nameh_ into Arabic. Its general fidelity to the original.] [Sidenote: The Arabic translation may be pieced together from various sources.] We should decide all this with much more certainty did we possess but one direct rendering made from the Pahlavi into Arabic. Above all we have to deplore the loss of Ibn Mukaffa's history of Persian Kings which is always assigned the first place among translations of the Persian Book of Kings by Hamza and other authorities. This distinguished man who only late in life exchanged the faith of his forbears for that of Islam, and who never professed the latter with over much zeal, translated a series of Pahlavi writings into Arabic including the _Khoday-Nameh_. He was a courtier, and passed for a good Arabic poet and one of the best rhetorical writers of his time. The famous Wazir Ibn Mukla counted him among "the ten most eloquent men." He must consequently have striven to suit his rendering of the book of Persian kings to the taste of his contemporaries. But we have no sufficient grounds to assume that he introduced arbitrary and material alterations into his translations or even that he greatly elaborated the rhetorical passages of the original text or invested them with an altogether different garb. Such a suspicion is contradicted by the coincidences with other sources which, like Firdausi, are independent of him. There is little probability of Ibn Mukaffa's work being again brought to light in its entirety. But on the other hand, it will indeed be possible to gather together in course of time more and more stray passages belonging to the book; though it is to be feared, unfortunately that these fragments will prove more to be preserved as efforts of rhetoric than because of their intrinsic value. A few extracts of this nature we find in Ibn Kotaiba's _Oyun-al Akhbar_. Among these citations which I owe to the goodness of Rosen, there is one tolerably long on the death of Peroz. Now the same fragment, little curtailed, is in the chronicle of Said bin Batrik or Eutychius, the patriarch of Alexandria. We should, therefore, be inclined from the first to derive other information in Eutychius on the Sasanides from Ibn Mukaffa. And our predisposition is supported by the circumstance that the history of the dynasty as given in a manual by the same Ibn Kotaiba and which is styled _Kitab al Maarif_, brief as it is, betrays as in the instance of the reign of Peroz, all through such an harmony with Eutychius that here two independent authors must necessarily have drawn upon one and the same original; and that original source can be no other than the production of Ibn Mukaffa. The abstract in Eutychius is very unequal being in some parts exhaustive, in others much abridged. The narrations as preserved in Tabari, which correspond to the statements in Eutychius and Ibn Kotaiba and which consequently go back to Ibn Mukaffa, are of a similar nature though Tabari gives in addition other parallel reports. Tabari, however, did not himself use Ibn Mukaffa's work, but for the History of Persia, among other authorities, employed by preference a younger work which represented another version together with excerts from the former. This can be inferred from the fact that the anonymous Codex Sprengers 30, which and Tabari are mutually independent, shows quite the same combination of two main sources and so far as the section in question goes, can be utilised and treated as a new manuscript of Tabari. Both have relied almost to the letter upon the presentment which emanated partly from Ibn Mukaffa and partly from another translator with the only difference that the anonymous writer is oftener more concise than Tabari. Again the version which does not proceed from Ibn Mukaffa is for the most part in accord with the epitome of the story of the Sasanides in the introduction to Yakubi's History of the Abbasides; there the excellent author occasionally subjoins extraneous information. More often than not this presentment is in touch with Ferdausi. I am unable to aver from whom has originated this other recension of the story of the Sasanides. We know indeed the names of a number of persons who redacted the History of Persia, originally in Pahlavi, for Arab readers. But though we can collect a few notices of some of the authors mentioned, we know nothing in particular about them and are completely in the dark about the special nature of their work. All that we can postulate as established is that they wrote posterior to Ibn Mukaffa. The latter is always mentioned in the first place. Muhammad bin Jahm who is regularly cited next after him and bears the surname of Bermaki, was a client of the Barmecides, who came to power a long while after the death of Ibn Mukaffa. Ifc may be supposed that they all laid under contribution the production of their celebrated predecessor. How they individually set about their work, whether perhaps some of them tapped non-Persian tradition; also, how far one or other of them utilized the novels of which there were probably many in Pahlavi--this we are no longer in a position to determine. Again this too remains a mystery whence Tabari came by most of the accounts touching the Persians, which are conspicuous by their absence in the anonymous Codex. To clear this whole ground it would appear to be expedient in the first place to set apart all that for which Ibn Mukaffa directly or indirectly is responsible. This I have done in the footnotes but an advance is possible in this direction. On the other hand, we must keep Ferdausi steadily before our eyes. Whatever in Tabari and other Chroniclers does not issue from Ibn Mukaffa and is not represented in Ferdausi likewise merits special study. [Sidenote: Direct Sources of Ferdausi.] [Sidenote: The Persian prose Shahname was not derived from Arabic but Pahlavi.] A superficial reading of Firdausi would engender the view that he obtained his material partly from Pahlavi books direct and partly from the oral communication of competent renconteurs. That this is only a deceptive illusion we conclude at once from his strong resemblance not only in the main features but also in the details and the order, with Arab writers some of whom were much anterior to him. Firdausi positively knew no Pahlavi and as for Arabic he knew next to nothing. He did employ written sources preponderatingly if not exclusively and these were in modern Persian. His principal authority was, according to the introduction mentioned above, a translation of the old Book of Kings which was prepared by Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak bin Abdullah bin Ferrukh. So far our information is surely trustworthy. For, Biruni testifies to a Shahname by Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak of Tus. According to the introduction, this man was a minister of Yakub bin Laith Saffar, who was commissioned with the work which he accomplished through a certain Sund bin Mansur Mamari with the help of four competent people from Khorasan and Sagistan in 360 A.H. The chronological impossibility involved in the figure is removed by Mohl who emends it to 260. Yakub ibn Laith got a foothold in Khorasan in 253 A.H. and reigned till 265. Still this report involves much that is incorrect. That the uncouth warrior Yakub who was perpetually camping in the battle fields should have possessed a sense for such a literary undertaking is extremely improbable, though not altogether inconceivable. May be, he was actuated by a political design, but Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak did not live under Yakub but flourished two or three generations later. For he is either a brother of Muhammad bin Abdar Razzak of Tus or Muhammad himself. The first surmise has the weight of greater likelihood in that the Strasburg manuscript calls him once Abu Mansur Ahmed and Muhammad had in fact a brother named Ahmed who participated in his political manouvres. Muhammad was the lord of Tus. We hear much about him--how he in the years A.D. 945-960 stood up now for the Samanides, his proper overlords, now for their powerful antagonist Ruknaddin, the Buide, whose capital lay in dangerous proximity to his territory. In those days when an enthusiasm for Modern Persian was strongly awakened the enterprize may most appropriately have been taken in hand. Immediately after the Princes of Khorasan planned to cast this prose work into poetry; and this task was first inaugurated by Dakiki for the Samanides and brought to conclusion by Ferdausi of Tus, countryman of Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak, for Mahamud of Ghazna. The name of the four people who executed the work for the son of Abdar Razzak are all genuinely Persian; which indicates that they were all adherents of the ancient religion and that they had actully a Pahlavi original before them. To transfer an Arabic version into Modern Persian would not have required four men. Moreover, Firdausi's poem occasionally betrays that his sources had not flowed to him through Arabic. Of those men one only is met with again, Shahzan son of Barzin. He is mentioned by Firdausi at the head of his account of the genesis of KALILA WA DIMNA: "Listen to what Shahzan, son of Barzin has said when he revealed the secret." Because this section is an episode which assuredly did not appear in the KHODAY-NAMEH, we may conclude that the prose Shahname on which this Shahzan collaborated, embodied all manner of similar episodes, though Firdausi may have taken several from elsewhere. It is an interesting circumstance that the potentate who had this work prepared by Abu Mansur bin Abdar Razzak, had inserted--so Biruni tell us--a fictitious genealogical tree in it which led up his ancestors to Minochihr. Such things were in those times very common among new men of Persian origin who attained power. We are compensated for the loss of this prose work by at least the epos of Ferdausi which has issued from it. [Sidenote: Dinawari.] As the most important of extant Arabic representations of the _Khoday-Nameh_ and the cognate literature we must regard at any rate Tabari I have already touched upon Eutychius, Ibn Kotaiba, and Yakubi. Another old chronicler Abu Hanifa Ahmed bin Daud Dinawari greatly accords with Tabari but presents also much that is peculiar to himself. A closer examination would no doubt reveal that he draws considerably upon romances directly or indirectly and that he is not particularly accurate. Tabari reproduces the conflicting versions of the same incident separately one after another; Dinawari works them up into a single unified narrative. [Sidenote: Hamza.] The small book which Hamza Ispahani wrote in 961, contains in brief much independent information on the Sasanides. Hamza treats his materials in a spirit of much more freedom and independence than Tabari, but to us the compiling process of Tabari is far more convenient. [Sidenote: Masudi.] Masudi in his "Meadows of Gold" affords us many a supplement to Tabari's narratives derived from reliable Persian sources. But Masudi works very unequally, accepts a good deal that is suspicious provided only it is entertaining, and as regards detail he is by no means over exact. As an historical authority, the Persian redaction of Tabari, so remarkable in many of its aspects, and achieved by Muhammad Belami or by others under his guidance, has but little value. I designate this work as "Persian Tabari" and have used it in the splendid Gotha manuscript and in Zotenberg's French translation. I have also consulted the Turkish version of Belami in a Gotha Manuscript. [Sidenote: Tabari more valuable than Firdausi.] All these writers and others present us collectively a tolerably rich and vivid portrait of Persian tradition of the Sasanide times. But the best comprehensive statement of the story of the Sasanides on the basis of this tradition is furnished us by Tabari, all his shortcomings notwithstanding and despite the pre-eminence which Firdausi's poem possesses as such. [Sidenote: Ibn Kelbi.] But in his narrative of this period Tabari had laid under contribution reports which were not of Persian origin. For the history of the Arab princes of Hira, which is so intimately related to that of the Persian empire, Tabari's chief authority was Hisham bin Muhammad called Ibn Kelbi a man who, like his father Muhammad bin Saib Kelbi before him, has rendered, however often modern criticism may take exception to the unscientific system of both the writers, the greatest service in connection with the collection of the scattered information on the history of ancient Arabs. We know of a few of the numerous writings, large and small, of Ibn Kelbi which are enumerated for us in the _Fihrist_ and which probably are at the root of Tabari's chapters. It is quite possible that Tabari borrows many of the secondary sources of Ibn Kelbi. It is surprising that the latter is cited as an authority on the Persian history itself, on the reigns of Ardeshir, Peroz, Khosrau I, Harmizd IV, Khosrau II, and Yazdegerd III. We are not cognisant of any work of his on the History of Persia. But it may be conjectured that occasionally in his history of Arabia he supplied minuter details touching contemporary Persia. An amanuensis of his, Jabala bin Salim, is noticed in the _Fihrist_ as one of the translators from Persian. Ho provided his master with material from Pahlavi books. For the History of the Arabs of that period Tabari has used a variety of other sources, most prominent among them being Muhammad Ibn Ishak who is better known as the biographer of the prophet. In this section of Tabari's great work mediately or immediately a large amount of diverse information has been brought together. It is certainly desirable and to be hoped that the criticism of the sources in this domain would make substantial progress. But the point of greatest moment even here is to test every incident or piece of information according to its origin and credibility as I have endeavoured to do in the footnotes. APPENDIX VI _LETTER OF TANSAR TO THE KING OF TABARISTAN._ Christensen, by the following reasoning, comes to the conclusion, that it was written somewhere between 557 and 570. Among the sources of our knowledge of the Sasanian institutions, one of the most important is the letter of Tansar to the king of Tabaristan published and translated by Darmesteter in the _Journal Asiatique_ (1894). The information which it gives on points where we can verify it is so exact that we cannot doubt that the letter was composed in the time of the Sasanians. On the other hand, on the first reading of the epistle I formed the impression that it was a literary fiction dating from the time of Khusro when the tradition made of Ardeshir the model of political sagacity and the founder of the entire organisation of the empire. The letter impressed me as a historical, theological, political and moral dissertation which in the shape of a correspondence between the grand Herbed Tansar and the king of Tabaristan, ill-informed regarding the new state of affairs and hesitating to submit himself to Ardeshir, was calculated to instruct contemporaries. It, therefore, fits in with the entire literature of the _Andarz_ type, which was developed under Khusro and the object of it was the moral instruction of the people. A more minute examination has confirmed me in this view and now I think I am able to affirm positively that the letter was composed under Khusro I. Tansar relates that Ardeshir softened the penalties for crimes against the religion. Formerly, "they used to put to death without hesitation those who set aside the religion of the State. But Ardeshir has directed that the accused shall be arrested and shall be catechised during a year and only if that proves of no effect he shall be killed." As a matter of fact, the rigorous ordinance which awarded the punishment of death for apostacy could not have existed before Parsism became with Ardeshir the State religion. The relaxation of punishment, on the other hand, dates from a much later period, when the standpoint of greater humanity began to be prevalent and when it was attempted to give greater authority to these views by attributing them to the celebrated founder of the dynasty. And we can say the same thing with reference to the less severe punishment for crimes committed against the State and in respect of other things mentioned in the letter. Besides, the tolerance in matters religious and the humanity of Khusro I are well-known. Now let us look at the incident of succession. According to the letter Ardeshir did not like to choose his successor lest the latter should wish for his death. So, he arranged for the succession in the following manner. The king only left in his royal letters a few counsels or instructions to the grand _Mobed_, the commander-in-chief, and the principal secretary, and after the decease of the king the latter were to proceed to elect a successor from among the royal princes. If they all were not of the same mind the choice should rest with the grand _mobed_ alone. But Aideshir had made a formal notes that he was not going to establish a president thereby, and that "in another age a manner of looking at things different from ours may appear the proper one." In the first place such an arrangement accords ill with the nature of a statesmen like Ardeshir, for we know from Tabari who follows the official chronicle of the times of the Sasanians, that Ardeshir as well as Shapur I and II themselves chose their respective successors. But in the times between Ardeshir II and Kawadh the election of the king was generally in the hands of the noblemen, and the system mentioned by Tansar may well have suited this period and been in harmony with the singular expression ascribed to Ardeshir that the system in question was not a definite one, and that in other periods, other manners might be more convenient. It seems to us that the letter of Tansar was composed at a period when the memory of the system of Ardeshir was still living although it had already been abolished. In other words, it was the time when the kings had gained the power to nominate their successors during their life-time, which brings us to the period between Kawadh and Hormum IV. The letter makes Ardeshir say "None but the subject kings who do not belong to our House can assume the title of king barring the wardens of the marches of the territory of the Allans and the districts in the west and of Khwarzm." By the oppression 'the warden of the matches' we must understand no doubt the _marzbans_ of the countries established by Khusro. Finally, the geographical notices permit us to determine in a more exact fashion the time of the origin of the letter.... The letter was consequently, composed after the march of Khusro I towards the East by the destruction of the Hephthahtes, but before the capture of Yemen. that is to say, between 557-570. Christensen finally notes that Marquart has arrived at the same conclusion, by another way, namely, that the letter is a fiction of the time of Khusro I. (See _Eranshahr_ page 30, note 2). APPENDIX VII _Some Arabic authors and the Iranian material they preserve._ _IRANIAN MATERIAL IN THE UYUNAL AKBHAR OF IBN QOTAIBA_. [_Note,_--Brockelmann's edition of the _Uyunal Akhbar_ is not accessible to me in India. I have carefully examined the first volume of the Cairo Edition and the following will show the wealth of Iranian material comprised in the book.--G.K.N.] When the Kisra died this was reported to the Prophet who inquired who was going to succeed the dead emperor and when he was told his daughter, the princess Buran, the Prophet declared that the nation could not prosper inasmuch as its affairs depended upon a woman. (p. 11). [Sidenote: Next-of-kin marriage.] I have read in the _Book of the Persians_ an epistle written by Ardeshir, son of Babak to his subjects declaring that the ecclesiastical authorities were the upholders of the religion and that the warriors were the bearers of the casque and literature, and were ornaments of the empire and that the agriculturists were pillars of the country. (p. 15). [In the course of the epistle there is a reference to marriage of next of kin, the king exhorting his subjects to _tazauwa-ju-fil qarabayn_.] [Sidenote: _Kitab Ain_ or the Pahlavi _Ain-nameh._] [Sidenote: Anushirwan's rule.] I have read in the _Ain_ that a king of Persia said in his address to his people: "I am only the ruler of people's bodies, not their minds; and I govern with justice, not according to my pleasure; and I safeguard people's property, not their secrets." Furthermore, the Persians say the most efficient of rulers is he who draws the bodies of his subjects to fealty to him through their hearts. When Anushirwan appointed a person to an office he directed his secretary to leave out in the appointment order a space of four lines so that he may fill it up with his own hand, and when the appointment order was brought to him he would write in it "govern the good people by love, and for the common people mix liberty with awe and govern the proletariat with levity." (p. 15). And it is said in the _Book of the Persians_ that the hearts of the people are the treasuries of the king, so that whatever is put there should be made known to him. (p 17). [Sidenote: The _Taj._] And I have read in the _Taj_; Said Aberwez to his son Shiruya who had put him into prison, [and here follow some views relating to the treatment of soldiers.] And in one of the _Books of the Persians_ it is stated that Ardeshir said to his son, "Oh, my son, the empire and the religion are two brothers which cannot do the one without the other. For the religion is the foundation and the empire is the guardian and whatever has no foundation falls and whatever has no guardian to look after it goes to waste" [And then proceeds to advise him as to the treatment of the nobles, warriors, the clergy, etc. Then are described the five qualities essential in a man occupying a post in the imperial government] And it is said in the _Taj_ that Aberwez wrote to his son Shiruya from his prison.... (p. 20) And I have read in the letter ... Aberwez wrote to his son Shiruya, [and here follow instructions regarding the three qualifications necessary in a revenue officer.] (p. 21) [Sidenote: The _Taj._] I have read in the _Taj_ that one of the kings of Persia took counsel with his _Wazirs,_ [and here follows a discussion about the necessity of confiding one's secret to one man only and not more.] (p. 25) [Sidenote: Epistle of Aberwez.] I have read in the Epistle of Aberwez to his son Shiruya who was imprisoned by him,[here follows the advisability of taking counsel with a certain class of people.] (p. 30). [Sidenote: Marzbans.] One of the kings of Persia, when he consulted the Marzbans and they did not give their opinion in a proper way, summoned those who were entrusted with provisioning the Marzbans and punished them. The latter complained that the error was on the part of the Marzbans whereas the punishment was awarded to them and the king replied that was so, and that the Marzbans would not have committed the error unless their minds were not dependent upon their food. [Sidenote: Buzurjamaher.] [Sidenote: Books of the Persians.] [Sidenote: Ideal Persian Secretary] Says Buzurjamaher, "When you are in doubt as to the propriety of doing one of two things then look out for the one which is nearest to your desires and relinquish it." (p. 23). And it is said in the _Books of the Persians_, [and here follows one of the most frequently repeated injunctions about the strict guarding of one's secrets.] (p. 40.) The Persians were in the habit of saying that the person would be deficient as a writer who was not conversant with the nature of flowing waters, with the digging of canals, with mirage, with the length of days as to particular seasons, with the rising of the new moon, and its effects, with weights and measures, with mensuration, triangles, squares, and measurements of areas involving various angles, with the preparation of channels and bridges and water mills, with the implements of artisans, and with the intricacies of mathematics. (p. 43). [Sidenote: Mobedan-Mobed] I have read in one of the _Books of the Persians_ that the _Mobedan-Mobed_ in eulogising the art of writing said etc ... (p. 47). [Sidenote: Epistle of Aberwez.] I have read in the Epistle of Aberwez to his son Shiruya. [Then follows an advice about severely punishing even a small piece of dishonesty.] (p, 58). [Sidenote: The _Taj_.] I have read in the _Taj_ that Aberwez said to the treasurer [here follows some observations on integrity.] [Sidenote: Persian sense of justice and equity.] I have read in the _Ain_ that it behoves the ruler to understand the jurisdiction of rightful justice, of justice which is not equity, of equity which is not justice, and to use his judgment with regard to evidence and eyewitnesses, and to refrain from doubtful matters. Since it is both justice and equity to kill a person for the slaughter of a person, and it is justice without equity to kill a master for the slaughter of a slave, and it is equity without justice to award the same punishment for a crime committed by a sane man as to one who was not in his senses. (p. 88). And I have read in the _Taj_: Said Aberwez to his chamberlain; [and here follow very interesting instructions regarding the treatment which the chamberlain was to give to the various persons seeking an audience of the king.] (p. 74). I have read in the _Taj_ [here follows an address of a secretary to a king.] [Sidenote: Speech from the throne.] I have read in the _Siyaral Ajam_ [one of the Arabic versions of _Shah Nameh_] that Ardeshir, when he was firmly established on the throne, gathered together his subjects and addressed them with eloquence exhorting them to love and obedience to himself, and warning them against sin and dividing the people into four classes, upon which those present made obeisance and their spokesman addressed the king as follows. [Here follows one of those typical speeches of which we have so many in _Shah Nameh_, and which leaves no doubt that the originals of them were composed in Pahlavi and that they were almost literally translated.] _JAHIZ._ _KITAB-AL-BAYAN VA-AL-TABAYYIN._ _(Egyptian Edition.)_ PART I. The dictum of BUZURJAMEHR: Buzurg, son of Bokhtagan was asked, "Which is the thing which covers indolence." "Aye" he said, "Wisdom, which gives beauty to it." They said, "If a person has got no wisdom?" He said, "Then property, which will cover it." They said, "But if there is no property?" He said, "His friends will earn respect for him." They said, "But if he has got no friends to earn respect for him?" He said, "If a person is indolent then he must preserve silence" They said, "But if he does not observe silence?" He said, "Then sudden death is better for him than that he should remain, in the world of the living." This passage has been repeated at page 123 with a slight difference. There the interrogator is Kisra Anushirvan, and the question is, which thing is the best for a man who is indolent. Buzurg replies, "Wisdom, with which he may be happy." (p, 4.) There is mention of several authors and books similar to _Kalileh wa Dimneh_ with the names of their authors including Sahal Ibn Harun, Ibn Rayhani, Al Katib. (p. 30.) Says Ismai: In the alphabet of the Romans there is no _zad_ and among the Persians there is no _tha_. (p. 36) A longish definition and description of oratory by Ibn ul Mukaffa. (p. 64.) Ibn Mukaffa again referred to. (p. 65.) Instances of Arabic poetry in which Persian words and phrases are intermingled _e.g., garden_ for _unuk_ (neck); _av sard_ for cold water, &c. (p. 79.) [There are several other instances where the Persian words are there, but the copyist and possibly also the editor, do not seem to have understood the Kasida and the editor observes in a marginal note that, the text is corrupt, G.K.N.] PART II. Mention of Sahal Ibn Harun. (p. 37.) Mention of Persia, (p. 53.) Mention of Abdallah Ibn Mukaffa. (p. 84.) Mention of Persia, (p. 92.) Dicta of Ibn al Mukatia on the dignity of kings and of nobles, (p. 104.) Reference to Khalid al Kisravi. (p. 105.) Reference to Ibn al Mukaffa. (p. 109.) Khalid al Kisrawi. (p. 112.) Al Hurmuzan. (p. 139.) On the service of kings. (p. 176.) PART III. The ways of the Shuubiya. (p. 2.) Reference to Persia. (p. 5.) Persia and Arabia compared. (p. 7.) Arabia and Persia compared. (p. 12.) Arabia and Persia contrasted. The prophets of Ajam. (p, 13.) Reference to Persia. (p. 44.) The Persian throne. (p. 77.) Dicta of Mukaffa. (p. 87.) Khalid al Barmaki. (p. 110.) Dicta on Adab of Mukaffa. (p. 135.) Reference to Barmaki. (p. 174.) Reference to Barmaki. (p. 170.) Sahal Ibn-Harun. (p. 185.) Dictum of Buzurja Meher. (p. 217.) Madaini quoted. (p. 233.) Persia referred to. (p. 234.) PART III., PAGE 5. [Sidenote: Value of Zoroastrian literature.] And we note that the persons most superior with, regard to preaching our sermons are the Persians. And among the Persians the most clever in this respect are the people of Fars, and they are the sweetest in words, and their pronunciation is the most correct. And the most difficult in this respect are the people of Merv. The most eloquent dialect of Persia is the Dari. As regards the Pahlavi idiom, of the people of the country of Ahwaz are the best. And as regards the chantings of the HERBEDS and the songs of the MOBEDS the superiority in this respect lies with the annotators of the Zemzema. And it is said that he who desires to acquire proficiency in the art of eloquence, and to be acquainted with rare expressions, and to be profoundly versed in vocabulary should read the book of Karwand. Moreover, if it is necessary to acquire sagacity and good manners and knowledge of the various interpretations of terms, a knowledge of pleasing expression and agreeable interpretation, one should study the LIVES OF KINGS, since for the Persians this book contains essays and sermons and fine expressions. HAMZA ISPAHANI. [Sidenote: Why no authentic history of Iran has survived.] [Sidenote: A clear reference to the ambiguous Pahlavi script and to the great difficulty of translating from it:] [Sidenote: Enumeration of the sources of Iranian history.] There are four dynasties among the kings of Persia and their enumeration is given alone and without any history of the events of their time or the characteristics of the kings of Persia during the protracted period of their sovereignty. They were divided into four groups called the Feshdadiya, the Kayaniya, the Ashghaniya, and the Sasaniya. Their entire chronology is dubious and not certain since it was translated after 150 years from one language into another and from one equivocal set of symbols for figures into another set of symbols, so that there remained nothing for me with reference to a narrative, in these chapters except to bring together the doubtful transcripts. I succeeded in finding eight transcripts and these were the following:--The Book of the Reigns of the Kings of Persia translated by Ibn al Mukaffa, the Book of the Reigns of the Kings of Persia translated by Muhammad Ibn al Jaham al Barmak, the Book of the History of the Kings of Persia which was taken out of the treasury of the Khalif Mamun; the Book of the Reigns of the Kings of Persia which was translated by Zaduya son of Shahuya of Ispahan; the Book of the Reigns of the Kings of Persia which was translated or compiled by Muhammad Ibn al Behram Ibn Mutyan of Ispahan; the Book of the Chronology of the Kings of Persia which was translated or compiled by Heshan Ibn Kasum of Ispahan, the Book of the Chronology of the Kings of the Sasanian Dynasty which was improved upon by Behram son of Mardan Shah, Mobed of the district of Shabur in the country of Fars. And when I had collected together all these works, I compared one with the others and then acquired what was necessary for the writing of this chapter. [Sidenote: Incorrect translations from Pahlavi.] And says Abu Mashar, the astronomer:--The majority of their [Iranian] histories are interpolated and corrupt, and there is the corruption because they have come down from a great many years ago and because they have been translated from one writing into another and from one tongue into another and hence there have been mistakes of either excess or defect. "And the Persians start their assertion from the Book which was brought to them by Zaradusht and which was called Avesta. This is the Book of their religion. It alleges that there have elapsed since the reign of Kayumarth, the father of mankind, down to the reign of king Yazdegerd, 4182 years, 10 months, and 19 days." [Sidenote: Corrupt texts and faulty translations.] Says Musa Ibn Isa al Kesravi in his book: I saw the Book which is called the _Khoday Nameh_ and which is the Book which when it was translated from Persian into Arabic was entitled _Kitab al Muluk al Fars._ I carefully examined the copies of this Book and looked through the narratives in them, and I found them in disagreement with each other so that I could not find even two copies which agreed with each other, and this was on account of the doubts in the minds of the translators who turned from one writing into another. [Sidenote: Mobed Behram the historian.] And turning back to what I have related in the previous chapter as regards the chronology [of the Persians], I relate what has been stated by Behram son of Mardanshah, _Mobed_ of the district of Shabur in the province of Fars. Says Behram the mobed: I collected together a little over twenty copies of the book called _Khoday Nameh_ and I put together properly the chronology of the kings of Persia from the times of Kayumarth, the father of mankind, till the last days when the empire was transferred from them to the Arabs. [Hamza describes the dress of the kings according to a book in which they were depicted just before their death. And he gives the buildings which each of them erected, especially the fire-temples they established along with the villages on the produce of which they were to be maintained.] [Sidenote: Avesta.] "I have read in the book which has been translated from one of their books called _Avesta_," and so on Hamza proceeds regarding the beginning of creation. TABARI. (1st Series, Vol. 2, page 675.) [Sidenote: Fire-temples in India.] It is related by historians versed in the antiquities of Arabia and Persia that Bhishtasb, son of Kay Loharasb, when he assumed the crown, said:--To-day we have become sovereign and we shall employ our thoughts, our action, and our knowledge for the acquisition of the good. And it is said that he built in Fars a city called Fasa and he built fire-temples in India, etc., and appointed _herbeds_ to the same. He assigned several dignities to seven of his noblemen in his dominions and appointed each of them to the charge of a district. [Sidenote: The appearance of Zoroaster.] [Sidenote: Wars of Iran and Turan.] Zaradusht son of Isfayman appeared in the thirtieth year of his reign and laid claim to apostleship and endeavoured that his religion might be accepted by the king. The latter refused and then Zaradusht satisfied him. Upon which the king accepted his claim. And he brought to him a Writing which he claimed was a revelation. And the said Writing was inscribed on 12,000 cow hides and they were embellished with gold, and Bishtasp deposited the same in a place in Istakhar called Darbesht and he appointed _herbeds_ in that connection. He prohibited the teaching of it to ordinary people.... [Here follows a passage which is not very clear regarding the difference that arose between the king of Iran and the king of the Turks relating to this new religion which Bishtasb had adopted. The name of the Turk sovereign is given as Khurzasaf.] Now when the messenger arrived with the epistle to Bishtasb there were gathered together the Ahl-bayat[1] and the noblemen of the empire, including Jamasaf the Wise, and Zarrin son of Loharasaf. Then Bishtasb wrote to the king of the Turks a strongly worded reply challenging him to a war and expressing his determination not to withdraw the step that he had taken and saying that that even if he refrained from fighting there would be all the people on both sides who would continue the struggle. On that day there were in the council of Bishtasb his brother Zarrin, and Nastur son of Zarrin, and Isfandiyar and Beshotan, the sons of Bishtasb and all the progeny of Loharasb. On the side of Khorasaf there were Ju Hormaz, and Hudarman his brother, and the Ahl-bayat and Baidarafsh, the magician. In the battle Zarrin was killed which was a heavy blow to Bishtasb and a great booty was taken by his son Isfandiyar, and Baidaraf was killed which was a calamity to the Turks. There was a huge slaughter and Khorsasaf fled. Thereupon Bishtasb returned to Balkh. Now when a number of years had passed after this war a person called Karzam attacked Isfandiyar. There was also an estrangement between Bishtasb and Isfandiyar. Order was issued for his imprisonment in a castle in which there were ladies, Bishtasb then proceeded in the direction of Kerman and Sagistan and proceeded towards a mountain called Tamdar. [The various manuscripts write the word differently and the editors have printed it without the diacritical marks so that it can be read in a variety of ways], for the purpose of teaching the religion and of spreading it there. And he left behind him his father Loharasaf in the city of Balkh and the treasures and the properties along with the harem including Khatus, his queen, were also left with the old man. [As the Editor points out Khatus is the Hutaosa of _Gosh Yast_ 26, and _Ram Yast_ 36[2]]. Now this fact was conveyed by the spies to Khorasaf and when he learnt it he collected an innumerable army and proceeded from his country towards Balkh and Khorasaf thought that this was an opportunity of attacking Bishtasb and his country. Thus when he approached Takhun he sent forward Ju Hormaz, his brother, with a large army and directed him to continue his march till he reached the centre of Bishtasb's country and to invade it and attack the people and the cities. And this was done by Ju Hormaz who shed a large amount of blood and carried off incalculable booty. And Khorasaf followed him and set fire to the archives and slew Lohorasaf and the _herbeds_ and destroyed the fire-temples, _(buyut-an-niran)_ and he took possession of the properties and the treasuries and took two of the daughters of Lohorasaf prisoner and one of them was called Khumay and the other Bazafreh. [This of course is according to Firdousi Beh Afrid]. He captured a great standard which was called Dirafsh Kabyan and he pursued Bishtasb who was fleeing from him. [Footnote 1: Ahl-bayat, or people of the house, is the Arabic equivalent of the Iranian Visputhra and was applied by Arabs to the superior Persian noblemen.] [Footnote 2: Here is evidence, on the one hand, that the Arab historians had Iranian histories at their disposal and on the other, that the latter are still reflected in the _yasht_ literature.] [The historian narrates how Isfandiyar went into the heart of the kingdom of the Turk and reached his capital which was called "Dez Ruin" and he proceeds to say "and being interpreted in Arabic it means the palace of copper." There is further reference to the canals and castles which we can trace to the BUNDEHESH. The struggle between Rustum and Isfandiyar is also described. This is followed by a curious passage regarding Zoroaster.] DINAWARI. PAGE 26, CAIRO EDITION. THE CALL OF ZARADUSHT. [Sidenote: Rustam and Isfandiyar.] And it is said that Zaradusht the head of the Magians came to Bishtasb the king and told him, "I am the Apostle of God to you", and gave him the Book which the Magians possess. Then Bishtasb believed in him and accepted his religion which is that of the Magians and exhorted the people of his kingdom to the same and they also accepted it _nolence volence._ And Rustam the Strong, was at that time the Governor of Sagistan and Khorasan, and he was powerful of body and possessed of great vigour. And when this happened it was reported to Kaykobad the king, this, about the admittance of Bishtasb into the Magian religion and his abandoning the religion of their forefathers. Kaykobad became exceedingly angry at this, and said that this was forsaking of the religion of their forefathers who had inherited it from one generation to another. Then the people of Sagistan were gathered together and they wore incited to destroy Bishtasb. And they revolted against him. Upon this Bishtasb called upon Isfandiyar who was the strongest man of his time and said to him, "Oh son, the kingdom will be entrusted to you. But the affairs will not improve except by killing Rustam, and you know his strength and vigour. But you are his match in power and prowess. So do you choose from the army whomever you like and then proceed against him." So Isfandiyar selected 12,000 Persian knights from the forces of his father, and marched against Rustam. And Rustam proceeded towards him between the boundaries or Sagistan and Khorasan. Isfandiyar suggested to Rustam that their armies should be excused from attacking each other, but that they two should engage in single combat and that whoever killed the other should be held to be the victor. Rustam agreed to the proposal and the covenant. Then the two armies stood abide and the two warriors engaged in a duel. Now the Persians have a good deal to say in this matter and that it was Rustam who killed Isfandiyar and that the latter's army returned to Bishtasb and informed him of what had happened to his son Isfandiyar. The king was overwhelmed with grief fell ill and died. And the kingdom, came to the grandson Bahman, son of Isfandiyar, and it is related that soon after Rustam returned to his residence in Sagistan, he died.[1] [Footnote 1: Note that Dinawari had obviously before him Iranian traditional materials for his history.] DINAWARI TREATS OF THE FOLLOWING IRANIAN SUBJECTS IN HIS CLEAR AND SUCCINCT FASHION. The reign of Baywarasaf, Farasiyab; Dhahak, the end of the reign of Minosher and the beginning of the reign of Farasiyab, the reign of Zab son of Budkan and Kaykohad Zab; the reign of Kaykawuys son of Kaykobad, the reign of Kai Khosro, the reign of Lohrasf and the invasion of Bukht Nasar; the reign of Bhishtasb in Persia; the call of Zaradusht, the reign of Bahman Ibn Isfandiyar in Persia and the emancipation of the Jews, the reign of Khumani (Humay) the queen of Bahman; the reign of Dara Ibn Bahman; the war of Dara with Greece; the reign of Darayush; the origin of Alexander; the invasion of Alexander against Dara; the reign of Ardwan; One para. is devoted to the Muluk ut Tawaef, and then regularly follow all the Sasanian kings beginning with Shahan Shah Ardeshir. IBN AL ATHIR (Vol. I., PAGE 110 CAIRO EDITION.) _Account of King Loharasp and his son Bishtasb and the appearance of Zaradusht_. [Sidenote: Zend and Pazend.] And we have related that Kai Khosrou, when he was at the point of death, bequeathed the crown to the son of his uncle Loharasp; and when he acquired the sovereignty he got possession of the throne of gold adorned with jewels. For him was built in Khorasan the city of Balkh which was called Husna (charming). He established archives and strengthened the empire by the selection of soldiers and by advancing agriculture. He took taxes for the purpose of wages for his soldiers. At that time the Turks were in great strength and he went down to Balkh to fight them, and he was a favourite with his people and strong in overpowering his vigourous enemies, kind to his well-wishers, and of great intrepidity. He raised great buildings and cut a number of canals, built cities. The kings of India and China and the occident used to pay tribute to him and addressed him in their despatches as their 'Lord' out of fear and respect for him. Subsequently he abdicated the empire and throne and engaged himself in devotion, appointing in succession to him his son Bishtasb to be king. And his reign endured for 120 years. After him Bishtasb became king and in his days appeared Zaradusht son of Sakiman [it should be Safiman, the difference being only that of a dot] who claimed to prophesy and the Magians followed him. And according to what is stated by writers, Zaradusht belonged to Palestine and was a personal servant to one of the disciples of Armaya, the prophet. He was unfaithful to him and told him a lie so that God cursed him and he was afflicted with leprosy and went away to the country of Azarbayjan and there started the religion of Magians. And it is also stated by others that he was a Persian and that he composed a Book and went about with it in the world. But no one knew its meaning. And it was alleged that it was in a heavenly language and was called as such. It was entitled Ashta [this is clearly a misformation of Avesta]. Then he left Azarbayjan and proceeded towards Fars. No one knew what was in the book and no one accepted it. Then he went to India and produced it before the kings there. Next he went to China and Turkey. But no one acknowledged it, and he was driven out from their countries, and started for Farghana whose king prepared to slay him so that he fled from there and bent his steps towards Bhishtasb son of Loharasp; who ordered his imprisonment and he was consequently in captivity for a time. Now Zaradusht wrote a commentary on his Book called the Zend which means interpretation. Next he commented upon the Zend in a book called Bazand, that is, interpretation of interpretation, and therein are various sciences like astrology, astronomy, medicine, etc., with reference to the history of past ages, and the books of the prophets. And in his book is stated,--"Adhere to what I have brought you till the time when there will come to you the man of the red camel," which means Muhammad the Prophet. This was at the beginning of the year 1600 and it was on this account that there has been enmity between the Magians and the Arabs and it has been mentioned in the history of Sabur Dhul Aktaf that this was one of the reasons justifying the raids on the Arabs. But God knows the best. [Sidenote: The Eternal fire.] [Sidenote: Royal archives forbidden to the Vulgar.] Then Bishtasb caused Zaradusht to present himself before him since he was in Balkh. And when he came to him he commenced with his religion. Bishtasb admired it, followed it, and forced his people to embrace it, and slew a large number of them till the rest adopted it. But the Magians assert that he was by origin from Azarbayjan and that he came to the king from the roof of his palace and that there was in his hand a cube of fire with which he played without its injuring him; that whoever took it from his hand did so without hurting himself. He caused the king to follow him and to accept his creed. And he built fire temples in the country and lighted them with that fire. For it is stated that the fires which are in their fire-temples are burning from that fire to this day. But they are telling an untruth since the fire of the Magians was extinguished in all their temples when God sent Muhammad down as his apostle as we shall describe, God willing, in the sequel, as well as the appearance of Zaradusht after thirty years of the reign of Bishtasb. And Zaradusht brought a writing which is alleged to be revelation from God and is inscribed on 12,000 cow hides inlaid with gold. Bishtasb deposited them in a place in Istakhar and forbade the teaching of thorn to the vulgar. MASUDI. _Kitab-at-tanbih._ [Sidenote: The Kohan Nameh and the Ain Nameh.] The Persians have a book called the _Kohan Nameh_ in which are mentioned all the officers of the Persian monarch amounting to 600 and classed according to their respective ranks. This book formed part of the _Ain Nameh._[1] The meaning of Ain Nameh is the 'Book of regulations'. It is a book containing several thousands of leaves and no one can find a copy of it anywhere except among the _mobeds_ and others invested with authority. The mobed of the Persians at the moment of writing this history, that is in the year 364, for the country of Jabal in Iraq and for the countries of Ajam, is Ammad son of Ashwahisht. Before him these countries had for their mobed Isfandiyar, son of Adarbad, son of Anmid, who was killed by Radi at Baghdad in 325. [Footnote 1: A remarkable passage from this Pahlavi treatise has been embodied in a close Arabic version in Ibn Kutayha's _Uyun-al-Akhbar._ The credit of discovering and translating this unique passage into a European language belongs to M.K. Inostranzev.] I have seen in the city of Istakhar in Fars in the year 303 in the house of a high noble Persian, a large book in which were set out along with the descriptions of several sciences the histories of the kings of Persia, their reigns and the monuments which they had erected,--fragments which I have not been able to find anywhere else in Persian books, neither in the _Khoday Nameh_, nor in the _Ain Nameh_ nor in the _Kohan Nameh_ or anywhere else. [Sidenote: Portrait of Sasanian kings taken just before their demise.] [Sidenote: Persian Imperial archives: Translation into Arabic.] In this book were pictures of the kings of Persia belonging to the house of Sasan, twenty seven in number, twenty five men and two women. Each of them was represented as at the moment of death, whether old or young with the royal ornaments, with the tiara, hair, beard, and all the features of his face. This dynasty reigned over the country for 433 years one month and seven days. When one of these kings died his portrait was painted and it was deposited in the treasury in order that the living princes may know the features of the dead kings. The representation of every king who was painted as a warrior was in a standing posture; that of every king who was occupied with government affairs was in the sitting posture. To it was joined the biography of each, of them detailing his public and private life together with the important events and facts concerning the most interesting incidents of his reign. The book which I saw was redacted according to the documents found in the treasuries of the kings of Persia and it was completed in the middle of the second Jamada of the year 113. It was translated for Hisham son of Abdal Malik son of Merwan from Persian into Arabic. The first of the kings of this dynasty whom one sees there is Ardeshir. The distinctive colour in his portrait was of a brilliant red. His trousers were of sky-blue and the mitre was green on gold. He held a lance in the hand and he was standing. The last was that of Yezdegerd, son of Shahariyar, son of Kesra Abarvez. His distinctive colour was green. His trousers were sky-blue and his mitre vermillion. He held in his hand a lance and rested the other hand on his sabre. This painting was made with Persian colours which are no longer to be found now-a-days and of gold and silver dissolved and of pulverised copper. The leaves of the book were of a purple colour and of a marvellous tint. It was so beautiful and prepared with such care that I do not know whether it was paper or whether it was thin parchment. (P. 250.) [Which stands for Pahlavi and not modern Persian.] [Sidenote: Zoroaster, Avesta, and Avesta Script.] Zaradusht brought to the king the book of _Avesta_, the name of which in Arabic has received a final _kaf_ and has thus become _Abestak_. The number of chapters of book is twenty one, each chapter comprising 200 leaves. In this book we find a total of sixty vowels and consonants each with a distinct character. Some of these characters are found elsewhere and others have fallen into disseutude. For this script is not confined to the language of the Avesta. [Sidenote: Extent of Avesta.] [Sidenote: Persian translation of Avesta.] [Sidenote: Contents of Avesta.] Zoroaster invented this writing which the Magians have called Sin Dabireh, that is to say, the 'sacred writing'. He incised his writing into 12,000 cow skins and filled it with gold. It was in the ancient language of Persia of which no one has any knowledge to-day. Only a few portions of its chapters have been translated into the modern Persian. It is this Persian translation which they have in their hands when, they say their prayers. The translation contains fragments like the Ashtad, the Chitrasht, the Aban Yasht, the Hadukht, and other chapters. In the Chitrasht are found the recitals of the origin and the end of the world. Hadukht comprises exhortations. [Sidenote: commentaries on Avesta.] Zoroaster composed the commentary on the Avesta which he called the Zend, and which in the eyes of his followers was revealed to him by God. He subsequently translated it from Pahlavi into Persian. Zoroaster, further, prepared a commentary on the Zend and called it Bazend. [Sidenote: Their destruction.] The Mobeds and the Herbeds, learned in the science of religion, commented in their turn on this commentary and their work was called the Barideh, and, by others, the Akradeh. After he had conquered the Persian Empire and put to death Dara son of Dara, Alexander burnt them.... [Sidenote: Synopsis of Zoroastrian beliefs.] Besides the two modes of writing which they owe to Zoroaster, the Persians have five other methods in many of which Nabatian words have been introduced. We have explained all these in our books already cited with quotations of portions regarding the miracles of Zoroaster, the marks and the proof of his revelation, the belief in the five eternal principles which are Ormazd or God, Ahriman which is the same as Satan, the wicked, Kah or time, Jay or space, Homa or the good spirituous liquor, the grounds on which they support these doctrines, the reasons why they render homage to the two luminaries and to other heavenly lights, the distinction which they make between fire and light, their discourses regarding the origin of the human species, on Mashya son of Gayomert, and Mashyana his daughter, and how the Persians trace their geneologies back to these two personages, and finally, other things connected with the exercise of their religion, the practice of their cult and the various places where they have established their fire sanctuaries. [Sidenote: Confutation of prejudice Moslem theologians.] Certain Musalman theologians and authors of books on various sects, and several authors who have set before them the task at different times of refuting Zoroastrianism have alleged that it is believed in their religion that from the reflexion of God on himself has issued an evil spirit or the devil and that God, indulgent towards him, has accorded him a certain time during which to tempt mankind. These authors further cite as appertaining to this religion propositions which the Magians themselves have always rejected. I believe that they must have heard these particulars from ordinary people and that they have recorded them as the authentic expression of the followers of the religion of Zoroaster.[1] [Footnote 1: Our celebrated Arab polyhistor not only does not malign the faith of Zoroaster but proceeds to confute his prejudiced co-religionists who pretended to refute the old faith of Iran.] SHAHARASTANI. KITAB AL MILAL VAL NIHAL. (_Page 112, Bombay Edition. Compare also page 83 of the Egyptian Edition on the margin of Ibn Hazm._) THE MAGIANS. These people believe in two Principles as we have already stated; only, that the original Magians were of the belief that it was not possible that there should be two Principles eternal and without beginning, but that the light was without beginning and darkness was only produced; and they were of different views as regards the origin of its rise,--whether it arose from light, since light cannot bring something that was partly evil. How then could the principle of evil or anything else arise since there was nothing at first which participated with light in its production and in its being eternal? Here the error of the Magians becomes apparent. They also assert that the first of persons was Kayumarth, though they sometimes say that he was Zarwan the great, and that the last of the prophets was Zaradusht. The Kayumarthiya assert that Kayumarth was Adam; Kayumarth appears as Adam in the histories of India and Persia. But all the histories are against this.[1] [Footnote 1: I have constantly referred to Haarbrucker's German translation and to the German passages cited by Gottiel in the Drisseler Volume which was very kindly presented to me by our Prof. A.V.W. Jackson. Gottiel has omitted the sections regarding the Kayumarthiya.] THE ZARADUSHTIYA. These are the followers of Zaradusht, son of Budashab who appeared in the time of Bishtasb, son of Lohrasb, the king. His father came from Azarbayjan and his mother from Ray and her name was Doghd. They assert that they had prophets and kings and that they had Kayumarth who was the first king on the earth and that his residence was at Istakhar, that after him came Haushanj, son of Farawal, who descended on India. After him came his son Jam; the king. Then followed prophets and kings among whom was Minochehr. He proceeded to Babel and settled there, and it is related that Musa, (may peace be on him!) appeared in his time. Things continued like this till the sovereignty came to Bishtasb, son of Lohrasb. In his time appeared Zaradusht al Hakim or the Wise.... [Sidenote: Miracles of Zoroaster.] [Sidenote: Essence of his teachings.] [Sidenote: His Cosmogony.] Then the child [Zaradusht] laughed a great laugh which was noticed by all those present, and people contrived so as to put Zaradusht in the way of cattle and the way of horses and in the way of wolves. But each of them stood up to protect him from its own kind. After he had attained to an age of thirty God sent him as his prophet and apostle to his creation, and he turned himself with his calling to king Bishtasb and the latter accepted his creed. His creed consisted in the reverence of God and the non-reverence of Satan, in the obedience to good and in the prohibition of the evil, and in abstaining from unclean things. He said that light and darkness were two original principles which opposed each other antagonistically, and so were Yazdan and Ahriman and that both were the beginning of the created things in the world. That the composition of it was the product of the co-mingling and that the variety of forms were given rise to by means of the various unions, but that God was the creator of light and darkness and of both the prime origins. He was one without a companion, without an opponent, and without anyone who was his like, and that it was not possible to trace to him the existence of darkness in the way in which the Zarwanites trace it, but that good and evil, pure and impure, holy and unholy, were brought forth only by the co-mingling of light and darkness, and had not the two fore-gathered the world would not have come into existence. They were pitched each against the other and they fight each other till light shall overcome darkness, and good evil. And then the good will be liberated and come to its own, and the evil will be hurled down to its own world and that will be the cause of the emancipation. God, the Almighty, however, has in his wisdom compounded and co-mingled them. Sometimes they make out that light is the original principle and express themselves thus: The existence of light is a real existence. Darkness, however, is only a consequence like the shadow of a person. It was alleged that darkness was a thing produced though not created in reality, and that God had produced light and that darkness had come out as a consequence, because contrast was a matter of necessity in existence. Hence the existence of darkness was also essential. And thus it had become a thing created although not as in the first view, as brought out with reference to a man's shadow. [Sidenote: Zend Ave-ta.] He [Zaradusht] also had composed a book about which people said that it was revealed to him, namely, the _Zand Awasta_ which divides the world into two parts, Mino or the spiritual and Geti or the corporeal; that is to say, into spiritual and corporeal worlds, or in other words, into mental and physical. And just as the creation is divided into two worlds, so according to him, all that was in the world was again divided into two, namely, _Bakhshis_ [Haarbrucker translates _Bakhshis_ by _gnade_ or favour, but the original Arabic expression is _takdir_ which means _destiny_, and _kunish_ or _deed_, by which are meant pre-destination By God and human action.] [Sidenote: Zoroastrian Ethics.] Further, he discussed the duties relating to the religious law and these have reference to the movements of man. He divided them into three parts _Manish, Guyish_ and _Kunish_, meaning thereby belief, speech, and act, and these comprehended all the duties. When in this a man is wanting he is out of obedience and out of creed. But if he conducts himself in these three movements according to the standard of the law and the ordinance he attains to the highest good.[1] [Footnote 1: Here is an instance where the Arab philosopher and writer hands down to posterity the spirit of Zoroastrianism without prejudice and with precision.] [Sidenote: Some Miracles explained.] The Zaradashtiya ascribed to Zaradusht a number of miracles including that while Zaradusht was thrown into prison the forefeet of the horse of Bishtasb entered into its body. When he was set at liberty, the feet of the animal came out. Next, it is said that he happened to pass a blind man at Dinawar and to have told him, "Take the herb", which he described to him "and press its juice into your eye and you will be able to see". This was done and the blind man was restored to his sight. This, however, is to be attributed to his knowledge of the properties of the herb and so it is in no wise a miracle. (Here Gotthiel omits one section on the Saisaniya and the Bihafridiya[1]). [Footnote 1: The Bihafridiya formed a heresy from Zoroastrianism in the time of the Moslems. The sect furnishes the strongest proof that there was no persecution worth the name in Persia at the time. Not only in those days were the Zoroastrians permitted to follow their own faith but here is a curious pars from Al Biruni which proves that both the original Zoroastrians and the heresy were permitted to flourish side by side under the Khalifs:--"When Abu Moslem came to Nishapur the _mobeds_ and _herbeds_ assembled before him telling him that this man [the founder of the Bihafridi sect] had infected Islam as well as their own [Zoroastrian] religion. So he sent Abdalla to fetch him. He met him in the mountain at Badjeh and brought him before Abu Moslem to put him to death together with such of his followers as he could capture. His followers called the Bihafridians still keep the institutes of their founder and strongly resemble the Zam-Zamis among the Magians." Shaharastani adds that they were the most hostile of God's creatures to the Zamzami Magians. The entire chapter on the Iranian sects in Shaharastani is worthy of careful and deep study. It explains the divergence between the prescriptions of the _Vendidad_ and the practice of the bulk of the Iranians. The _Vendidad_ was, it would appear, the authoritative scripture of one of the sects of Zoroastrianism. At any rate it is not too extravagant to deduce from the careful studies of the Iranian religion by Arab writers that as the teachings of Sakya Muni developed into more Buddhisms than one so there were several creeds with the common designation of Zoroastrianism.] [Sidenote: The dignity of Mobedan Mobed.] The Magians and the followers of the Two Principles and the followers of Mani and the other sects which are related to the Magians are known as the adherents of the Great creed or the Great religion. All the kings of Persia were the followers of the religion of Ibrahim, subjects and all those who belonged to the country among them during the reign of each of them followed the religion of their rulers. But these latter relied upon the chief of the ecclesiastics, _Mobed Mobedan_, the sage of sages, and the wisest of men according to whose instructions the kings conducted themselves and without whose judgment they undertook nothing; to him they showed reverence such as is shown to the Khalif of the time. IBN HAZM. KITAB AL FASAL FIL MILAL WAL HAWA WAL NAHAL. (PAGE 112, VOL. 1, EGYPTIAN ED.) As regards the Magians they believed in the prophetship of Zaradasht.... And as regards Zaradasht it is said that the majority of Moslems believed in his prophetship.... [Sidenote: "Majority of Moslems believed in the Prophetship of Zoroaster."] And the Book of the Magians and their religious Law were for a long time during their sovereignty in the possession of the _mobeds and_ 23 _herbeds_. Each of the herbeds had a volume which was individual and separate. In it was associated none of the other herbeds and no outsider had any concern with it. Subsequently there was a break on account of Alexander setting fire to their books at the time when he invaded Dara, son of Dara, and they admit with unanimity that a portion of their scriptures to the extent of a third has perished. This has been mentioned by Bashir and Nasik and others of their men of learning.... [Sidenote: History of Zoroastrian Sacred literature.] And Magians compiled all the scriptures (ayat) regarding the miracles of Zoroaster such as that of the brass which was spread over and melted on his chest and which did not injure him, and the feet of the horse which had penetrated his belly and which were drawn out by him, etc. [Sidenote: Zoroastrians are _Kitabis_.] And among those who assert that the Magians are _Ahal Kitab_ are Ali Ibn Talib and Khuzayfa, may God be pleased on these two, and Said Bin Al Musib and Karadah and Abu Thaur and the whole of the sect of the Zahurites. And we have set out the arguments of the validity of this statement in our book entitled the _Isal_ in the chapters on Jehad, Ceremonial Slaughter, and Nikah. And therein is sufficiently proved the validity of the acceptance of Jaziya by the prophet of God from them. For in the clear statement of the Qoran in the last verses of the chapter of _Burat_, God has declared unlawful the acceptance of the Jaziya from _non-Kitabis_.... Now as regards the Magians they admit that the books of theirs in which is incorporated their religion were destroyed by fire by Alexander when he slew Dara son of Dara,--that more than two-thirds of them have perished the remnants being less than a third,--that their religious law was comprised in what has disappeared. Now since this is the condition of their religion, then their claims are void altogether became of the disappearance of the majority of their books; since God does not held responsible any person with reference to anything that has not been entrusted to him. [Sidenote: Zoroastrians extant scriptures are corrupt.] And among their books there is one entitled the _Khudhay_ to which they pay great reverence, in which it is related that king Anushirwan prohibited the teaching of their religion in any one of the cities except Ardeshir Khurrah and the religion spread from Datjird. Before this time it was not taught anywhere except Istakhar and it was not proper for anyone to engage in its study except a special class of people. And of the books which remained after the conflagration by Alexander there were 23 volumes and there were appointed 23 _herbeds_, one _herbed_ for each volume. And no herbed transgressed upon the volume of another. And the MOBED MOBEDAN was the superintendent of the whole of those scriptures. Now whatever is in this condition has its contents altered and modified and each of the transcripts is in this state. Hence they are corrupt and do not deserve to be regarded as authentic. Thus whatever is in their books cannot be held to be authentic except by reason of faith alone since there are evident falsehoods in them like the statement that their king mounted on Iblis and rode on him wherever he willed, that man in the beginning originated from a vegetable like grass called Sharaliya, and the birth of Bayarawan Siyawush son of Kay Kawash who built a city called Kangdez between the earth and the heaven and settled therein 80,000 men belonging to the _people of family_, that they are there to this day, and that when Behram Hamawand manifests himself on his bull to restore to them their sovereignty that city will descend to earth and will help him to restore their religion and Empire. Says Abu Muhammed, may God be pleased with him. And every book in which is incorporated a falsehood is invalid and fictitious. It does not come from God. Thus there is corruption in the religion of the Magians just as there is in the religion of the Jews and the Christians to an equal degree. IBN HAUKAL. Ibn Haukal has been edited in the _Bibliotheca Geogra phorum Arabicorum_ by De Goege, but as the text is not available the following excerpts from a translation of it made over a century ago by Sir William Ouseley will indicate its importance. He flourished in the middle of the 11th century. [Sidenote: Fire Temples.] "There is not any district nor any town of Fars without a fire temple. These are held in high veneration. We shall hereafter minutely describe them. Also throughout Fars there are castles one stronger than another. [Sidenote: Nirang.] "There is not any district of this province nor any without a fire temple. One near Shapur they call Kunbud Kaush.... And in the religion of the Guebres it is ordained that 'Omnis Foemina quae tempore gravid it at is aut tempore menstruorum, fornicationem seu adultarium fecerit, pura non erit, donec ad Pyraeum (seu templum Ignicolarum) accesserit (et) coram Heirbed (sacerdote) nuda ferit et urina vaccae se laverit.' "In the province of Fars, they have three languages--the PARSI, which they use in speaking one to another, though there may be some variations of dialects in different districts yet it is in fact all the same and they all understand the languages of each other and none of their expressions or words are unintelligible; the Pahlavi language which was formerly used in writings; this language now requires a commentary or explanatory treatise; and the Arabic language which at present is used in the Divans or royal courts of justice and revenue, etc. [Sidenote: Maritime commerce.] "As to the manners of the people in Fars those who are the chief men and occupy the higher offices in the service of the sovereign are polite and courteous. They have fine palaces and are very hospitable. The people in general, are kind and civil in their manners. The merchants are remarkably covetous and desirous of wealth. I have heard that there was a certain man of Siraj who had forty years at sea never leaving his ship during this time. Whenever he came to a port he sent some of his people on shore to transact his commercial affairs, and when the business was finished he sailed on to some other place. The inhabitants of Siraj devoted their whole time to commerce and merchandise. I myself saw at this place several persons who possessed 4,000 thousand dinars and there were some who had still more and their clothes were those of labourers. [Sidenote: Parsis in Fars.] "In Fars there are fire worshippers, Guebres, and Christians and some Jews. And the practices of the Guebres, their fire temples, and their customs and ceremonies and Guebreism or Magism, still continue among the people of Fars and there are not in, any country of Islam so many Guebres as in the land of Fars. It has been their capital or residence." [Like all other Arab authors Ibn Haukal mentions the celebrated men belonging to each of the provinces he describes. Among the celebrities of Fars are reckoned Hormuz, "Guebre", who in the time of Omar was taken by Abdulla Ibn Omar and put to death; and Salman Farsi who was one of the illustrious men. His piety is celebrated throughout the world. He sought the truth of religion in all quarters only to find it at Medina with the Prophet. In consequence of this Selman became a true believer. Abdulla Ibn Mukaffa also belonged to Fars. In the territory of Istakhar is a great building with statuettes carved in stone and there also are inscriptions and paintings.] APPENDIX VIII IBN KHALLIKAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY TRANSLATED BY DE SLANE, VOL, I. _Dehkan_ is a Persian word signifying both a farmer and a historian. It is generally used to designate a person of ancient Persian family possessing hereditary landed property. (P. 77). _Ispeh Salar._ This word signifies commander of the troops. (P. 228). KATIBS or writers were the persons employed in public offices: the directors, clerks and secretaries in government service were all called katib. [Sidenote: Nauruz in Baghdad.] _Khalifs' Nauruz._--This another name for Nauruz Khasa "New Year's day proper," in which it was customary to offer presents to the sovereign. This festival was held on the sixth day of the month of Ferwardin (end of Marob). The old Persian custom of celebrating Nauruz existed at Baghdad under the Abbaside Khalifs. (See P. 203 of this work, see also an anecdote of Ahmed Ibn Yusuf al Khatif in his life of Al Mubarad.) (P. 340). "In the year 499 Ak Sunkur was directed by the sultan Muhamed to lay siege to Tikrit which was then in the possession of Kaikobad Ibn Hazarasb (about 1125)." (P. 227.) [Sidenote: Ibn Mukaffa.] Ibn Khallikan has devoted seven pages to the life of Ibn Mukaffa who is called _the Katib_ and was renowned for the elegance of his style. He was the author of admirable epistles. He was a native of Fars and a Magian. But he was led to the profession of Islam by the uncle of the two first Abbaside Al Safar and Al Mansur. He then became a secretary and was admitted into intimacy. It was related that Mukaffa went to Isa Ibn Ali and said that he was persuaded of the truth of Islam and wished to make a profession of that faith. Isa answered, "Let it be done in the presence of the leaders and chiefs of the people who come here to-morrow." On the evening of that very day he went to dine with Isa, and having sat down he began to eat and to mutter according to the custom of the Magian, "How" said Isa, "he mutters like the Magian although resolved to embrace Islam?" To this Makaffa replied: "I do not wish to pass a single night without some religion." The next morning he made to Isa his solemn profession of Islam. Notwithstanding the eminent merit of Mukaffa he was suspected of infidelity and Al Jahiz states that his religious sincerity was doubted (P. 431). Ibn Kallikan says, "It was Mukaffa who composed the book entitled _Kalileh Wa-Dimneh_. But some state that he is not the author of the work which they say was in Pahlavi, and he translated it into Arabic, and put it in an elegant style. But the discourse at the beginning of the work is by him." VOLUME II. Ahmed Ibn Yusuf addressed to Al-Mamun a verse with a present of an embroidered robe on the day of Nauruz. (P. 32). Al-Marzubani received his surname of Al-Marzubani because one of his ancestors bore the name of Al-Marzuban, a designation applied by Persians to great and powerful men only. This word signifies guardian of the frontier, as we learn from Ibn al Jawaliki's work called Al-muarrab. (P. 68). A reference to the game of chess which originated in India, and the game of Nerd as invented by the Persian king Ardeshir. We often come across names like Dhia-ad-Din Abu Said Bahrain Ibn al-Khidr, just as we have Paul Pakiam indicating the bearer of the name was originally Hindu but had adopted subsequently Christianity. (P. 296). [Sidenote: Nominal converts.] Abl-Hasan Mihyar Ibn Mirzawaih, a native of Dadam and secretary for Persian language was a Fire-worshipper, but afterwards adopted the Moslem faith. It is said that he made his profession to Sharif ar-Rida who was his professor and under whom he made his poetical studies. It seems, however, the conversion of Mihyar was only nominal. Ibn al-Athir al-Jazari says in his Annals that one Ibn Burhan said to him. "Mihyar, by becoming a Musalman you have merely passed from one corner of hell to another." "How so?" said Mihyar. Ibn Burhan replied: "Because you were formerly a fire-worshipper and now you revile the companions of our blessed Prophet in your verses." (P. 517.) Ibn Khallikan adds that "Mihyar and Mirzawaith are both Persian names. Their signification is unknown to me." VOLUME III. Instances of hybrid compound names, the Iranian component being retained. Izz ad-Din Kaikaus son of Ghiath ad-Din Kaikhosru. (P. 487). Ala ad-Din Kaikobad. (P. 489). Abu Mahfuz Ibn Firuz. (P. 384). Abu Manzur Al Muzaffar Ibn Abi I-Husain Ardeshir. (P. 365). Abu Mansur-Sheherdar Ibn Shiruyah. (P. 11). Sultan ad-Dawlat, Fanakhrosru (which is no doubt equivalent to Panah Khurso.) (P. 278). The word _abna_ signifies _sons_. It was generally employed to designate persons one of whose parents was an Arab and the other of a foreign race. At the time of Mahomed and afterwards there was in Yeman a great number of _Abna_ whose fathers were Persians and whose mothers were Arabs. (P. 334). Dress of the Ulema. (P. 273). Yahya Ibn al Munajjim whose real name was Abban Hasis, the son of Kad, the son of Mahavindad, the son of Farrukhdad, the son of Asad, the son of Mihr, the son of Yezdigerd, the last of the Sasanian kings of Persia. Story of the onagar with the inscription on its ear written by Bahramgor in the Kufic character. Ibn Khallikan quotes Al Khawarezmi's _Mafatih-al-Ulum._ (P. 85). [Sidenote: Old castles.] Istakhri refers to the castle of Jiss in the district of Arrajan about which we have a more exhaustive notice by other writers. "Here lived the Magians," says Istakhri, "and here also are to be found memorials of the past of Persia. The place is strongly fortified. The castle of Iraj is also strongly fortified. The fastnesses which cannot be subjugated are so many that it is not possible to detail them." Describing the city of Jur Istakhri says that it was built by Ardeshir. "It is said that here water used to be collected as in a lake. The king had taken a vow to build a city and to erect a fire temple at the place where he had defeated his enemy. He had the place drained, and when it was dried he built the city of Jur on the site. The city in its extent is like Istakhr, Sabur, and Darabgird. It had mud walls and moats and many gates, the eastern one being called the gate of Mihr, the western the gate of Bahram, the northern the gate of Hormuz, and the southern the gate of Ardeshir. In the centre of the city is a building with a cupola built by Ardeshir. It is said that it is so high that it commands a view of the city and its surroundings. _High at its top is a fire altar_.[1]" (P. 56). [Sidenote: Languages of Iran.] In another portion of his book Istakhri describes the inhabitants as thin, with little growth of hair and of brown colour. "In the colder tracts," he continues, "the people are of a taller stature with a thick growth of hair and very fair. They speak three languages,--the Parsi, which everybody speaks and which is employed in their letters and their literature; the Magians who dwell among them use the Pahlavi in their writings, but it needs for a thorough understanding an explanation in Parsi; and Arabic which is the language used in the correspondence of the Sultan, the Government Boards, the grandees and the Amirs." (P. 67). [Footnote 1: This goes to confirm the hypothesis of Sir John Marshall that the curious structure with probably a fire-altar at the top excavated by him at Taxila near Rawal Pindi is a Zoroastrian _atash-kadeh_.] [Sidenote: Tardy Converts.] In the same place he makes mention of a numerous settlement of the Magians. "Here are," he says, "a goodly number of Magians in the neighbourhood of Istakhr. There is a large stone building with carvings and pillars about which the Persians relate that it is the mosque of Solomon; the son of David, and that it is the work of genii. In bulk it is comparable to the buildings in Syria and Egypt" "In the neighborhood of Sabur is a mountain on which the representations of all the kings, governors, servitors of temples and grand mobeds who were celebrated in the times of the Persian monarchy are to be found. On the pedestals of these figures are engraved the events in connection with and the deeds of these personages." Describing the Karen mountains Itakhri says, "The mountainous region is inaccessible and the inhabitants hold commerce with no one outside. During the Omayad period they persisted in their adherence to Zoroastrianism, and they could not be subjugated, and were worse than the inhabitants of the Koz mountain. But when the Abbasides came to power they embraced Islam. These Magians were extraordinarily brave. Yakub and Amru the sons of Leith, commenced their rule and power here and drew their supporters from these hills." "Mokan," says Istakhri, "contains many villages which are inhabited by the Magians." (P. 71.) MESOPOTAMIA AND PERSIA IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. IN THE NUZHAT AL KULUB OF HAMD-ALLAH MUSTAWFI BY G. Lestrange. The following fire-temples are mentioned:--At [Transcriber's note: word unreadable] there was an ancient fire temple called Ardahish. (P. 56) A dragon was slain by king Kaikaushro who then built on the spot a fire temple afterwards known as Dayr Kushid. (P. 69). Turshid was the chief city of the Kohistan province and near it was the village Kishwaz famous for the great cypress trees planted by Zoroaster as related by Firdausi in the Shah Nameh, (Turner, 1. Macar Vol. 4, line 1061). Near Tushiz were four famous castles one of which was called Arthush Gah or the Fire temple. (P. 80). Herat was watered by the canals of the river Hari Rud. It had a famous castle called Sham Iram built over the ruins of an ancient Fire temple on a mountain two leagues distant from the city. Mustawfi adds a long account of the town, its markets and its shrines, giving the names of the various canals derived from the Hari Rud. (P. 85). AL MUQADASI. (BIBLIOTHECA INDICA) [Sidenote: Zoroastrians are treated like Jews and Christians.] The religious bodies which enjoy rights of subjects under the protection of law are four,--the Jews, the Christians, the Majus, and the Sabiah. (P. 67-69). [Sidenote: Nauruz and Miherjan.] The worshippers of idols in Sind are not of the Dhimma, nor those under the protection of Islam; it is on this account that they are exempted from the poll tax. _The Majus are counted with the Dhimma; for Omar ordered them to be treated in the same way as the people of the book (the Jews and Christians;_) the fact that we call the followers of one and the same code of doctrines by two names, one of praise and one of blame, does not arise from eulogising or reviling on our part; our object is merely to shew what others think of any sect, and by what names they call them. (P. 7). THAALIBI. EDITED AND TRANSLATED BY H. ZOTENBERG. And Behram was matchless among kings, perfect in manners and facile of tongue. For he used to converse on the days of public assemblies and courtly meetings in Arabic and in matters of receiving petitions and granting of the gifts in Persian, and when giving public audiences he used the Dari language, and when playing polo he used Pahlavi, and Turkish while at war, and when out hunting the language of Zabulistan and in legal matters Hebrew, in questions of medicine the Indian language, in Astronomy the language of the Greeks, and while on voyage he used the Nabatian language and while speaking with women he used the speech of Herat. (P. 555). That Thaalibi knew the correct distinction between Pahlavi and Persian can be seen from the fact that he says at p. 633 of his history with reference to the book of _Kalileh wa Dimna_ as follows:--When Burzuyeh arrived at the court and presented himself before Anushirwan he recounted to him what had happened to him and announced to him as a happy event that he was in possession of the book. Then he made a present of it to the king. (Anushirwan was charmed with it and he gave the order to translate the book into Pahlavi.) Burzuyeh requested and got from the king the permission to place at the head of the first chapter the king's name, and a notice of his life. And the book remained carefully guarded with the kings of Persia until Ibn Muquaffa translated it into Arabic and Rudaki at the command of Amir Nasr Ibn Ahmad turned it into Persian verse. Reference to _Kitab al Ain_. (P. 14.) Reference to the murder and burial of the last Sasanian king, (P. 748.) 
12169	----	Proofreaders [S']AKOONTALÁ OR THE LOST RING AN INDIAN DRAMA TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE AND VERSE FROM THE SANSKRIT OF KÁLIDÁSA BY SIR MONIER MONIER-WILLIAMS, K.C.I.E. M.A., D.C.L., LL.D., PH.D. BODEN PROFESSOR OF SANSKRIT, HON. FELLOW OF UNIVERSITY AND LATE FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD PREFACE TO THE EIGHTH EDITION. The fact that the following translation (first published in 1855) of India's most celebrated drama has gone through seven editions, might reasonably have absolved me from the duty of revising it. Three years ago, however, I heard that Sir John Lubbock had thought '[S']akoontalá' worthy of a place among the hundred best books of the world, and had adopted my version of the original. I therefore undertook to go through every line and once again compare the translation with the Sanskrit, in the hope that I might be able to give a few finishing touches to a performance which, although it had been before the public for about forty years, was certainly not perfect. The act of revision was a labour of love, and I can honestly say that I did my best to make my representation of Kálidása's immortal work as true and trustworthy as possible. Another edition is now called for, but after a severely critical examination of every word, I have only detected a few minor unimportant points--and those only in the Introduction and Notes--in which any alteration appeared to be desirable. Indeed it is probable that the possessors of previous editions will scarcely perceive that any alterations have been made anywhere. Occasionally in the process of comparison a misgiving has troubled me, and I have felt inclined to accuse myself of having taken, in some cases, too great liberties with the Sanskrit original. But in the end I have acquiesced in my first and still abiding conviction that a literal translation (such as that which I have given in the notes of my edition of the Sanskrit text) might have commended itself to Oriental students, but would not have given a true idea of the beauty of India's most cherished drama to general readers, whose minds are cast in a European mould, and who require a translator to clothe Oriental ideas, as far as practicable, in a dress conformable to European canons of taste. And most assuredly such a translation would never have adapted itself to actual representation on a modern stage as readily as it now appears that my free version has done. It has gratified me exceedingly to find that youthful English-speaking Indians--cultured young men educated at the Universities of Calcutta, Madras and Bombay--have acted the [S']akoontalá, in the very words of my translation with the greatest success before appreciative audiences in various parts of India. And lest any one in this country should be sceptical as to the possibility of interesting a modern audience in a play written possibly as early as the third or fourth century of our era (see p. xvi), I here append an extract from a letter received by me in 1893 from Mr. V. Padmanabha Aiyar, B.A., resident at Karamanai, Trivandrum, Travancore. 'SIVEN COIL STREET, TRIVANDRUM, _'May 1, 1893_. 'The members of the "Karamanai Young Men's Mutual Improvement Society" acted your translation of "[S']akoontalá" on the 3rd and 5th of September last year, in the Government Museum Theatre, Trivandrum. 'It was acted in two parts. On the first day Acts I to IV were acted, and on the second the remaining three Acts. 'All our chief native officials and many Europeans and their ladies honoured the occasion with their presence. We acted it a second time at the special request of H.H. the Second Prince of Travancore, in the Palace of His Highness' mother, the Junior Ránee. 'The public were kind enough to pronounce it a success. In many cases the applause given was not so much for the acting as for the beauty of your translation. The Hindús have a great liking for this play, and not one of the enlightened Hindú community will fail to acknowledge your translation to be a very perfect one. Our object in acting Hindú plays is to bring home to the Hindús the good lessons that our ancient authors are able to teach us. If there is one lesson in these days more than another which familiarity with the fountains of Western literature constantly forces upon the mind, it is that our age is turning its back on time-honoured creeds and dogmas. We are hurrying forward to a chaos in which all our existing beliefs, nay even the fundamental axioms of morality, may in the end be submerged; and as the general tenor of Indian thought among the educated community is to reject everything that is old, and equally blindly to absorb everything new, it becomes more and more an urgent question whether any great intellectual or moral revolution, which has no foundations in the past, can produce lasting benefits to the people. '"I desire no future that will break the ties of the past" is what George Eliot has said, and so it is highly necessary that the Hindús should know something of their former greatness. 'The songs in [S']akoontalá, one in the Prologue and another in the beginning of the fifth Act, very easily adapted themselves to Hindú tunes.' Towards the end of his letter Mr. Aiyar intimated that he himself took the part of Má[T.]Havya. He also mentioned that a few modifications and additions were introduced into some of the scenes. In a subsequent letter received from Mr. Keshava Aiyar, the Secretary of the Society, I was informed that my version of the Play was acted again at Trivandrum in 1894. These descriptions of the successful representation of the [S']akoontalá in Travancore justified me in expressing a hope that, as Kálidása has been called the Shakespeare of India, so the most renowned of his three dramatic works might, with a few manifestly necessary modifications, be some day represented, with equal success, before English-speaking audiences in other parts of the world and especially here in England. This hope has been realized, and quite recently my translation has been successfully acted by amateur actors before a London audience. I venture, therefore, to add the expression of a further hope that with the daily growth of interest in Oriental literature, and now that the [S']akoontalá forms one of Sir John Lubbock's literary series, it may be more extensively read by the Rulers of India in all parts of the Empire. Those who study it attentively cannot fail to become better acquainted with the customs and habits of thought, past and present, of the people committed to their sway. And it cannot be too often repeated that our duty towards our great Dependency requires us to do something more than merely rule justly. We may impart high education, we may make good laws, we may administer impartial justice, we may make roads, lay down railroads and telegraphs, stimulate trade, accomplish amazing engineering feats--like that lately achieved at Periyar--increase the wealth and develop the resources of our vast Eastern territories; but unless we seek to understand the inhabitants, unless we think it worth while to study their ancient literatures, their religious ideas, and time-honoured institutions, unless we find in them something to admire and respect, we can never expect any reciprocity of esteem and respect on their part--we can never look forward to a time when the present partition-wall, which obstructs the free Interchange of social relations between European and Asiatic races, will be entirely removed. MONIER MONIER-WILLIAMS, _December, 1898_. INTRODUCTION About a century has elapsed since the great English Orientalist, Sir William Jones, astonished the learned world by the discovery of a Sanskrit Dramatic Literature. He has himself given us the history of this discovery. It appears that, on his arrival in Bengal, he was very solicitous to procure access to certain books called Nátaks, of which he had read in one of the 'Lettres Édifiantes et Curieuses' written by the Jesuit Missionaries of China. But, although he sought information by consulting both Bráhmans and Europeans, he was wholly unable for some time to satisfy his curiosity as to the nature of these books. It was reported to him that they were not histories, as he had hoped, but that they abounded with fables, and consisted of conversations in prose and verse held before ancient Rájás, in their public assemblies. Others, again, asserted that they were discourses on dancing, music, and poetry. At length, a sensible Bráhman, conversant with European manners, removed all his doubts, and gave him no less delight than surprise, by telling him that the English nation had compositions of the same sort, which were publicly represented at Calcutta in the cold season, and bore the name of 'plays.' The same Bráhman, when asked which of these Nátaks was most universally esteemed, answered without hesitation, '[S']akoontalá.' It may readily be imagined with what interest, the keen Orientalist received this communication; with what rapidity he followed up the clue; and, when at length his zeal was rewarded by actual possession of a MS. copy of one of these dramas, with what avidity he proceeded to explore the treasures which for eighteen hundred years had remained as unknown to the European world as the gold-fields of Australia. The earliest Sanskrit drama with which we are acquainted, the 'Clay-cart,' translated by my predecessor in the Boden Chair at Oxford, Professor H.H. Wilson, is attributed to a regal author, King [S']údraka, the date of whose reign cannot be fixed with any certainty, though some have assigned it to the first or second century B.C. Considering that the nations of Europe can scarcely be said to have possessed a dramatic literature before the fourteenth or fifteenth century of the present era, the great age of the Hindú plays would of itself be a most interesting and attractive circumstance, even if their poetical merit were not of a very high order. But when to the antiquity of these productions is added their extreme beauty and excellence as literary compositions, and when we also take into account their value as representations of the early condition of Hindú society--which, notwithstanding the lapse of two thousand years, has in many particulars obeyed the law of unchangeableness ever stamped on the manners and customs of the East--we are led to wonder that the study of the Indian drama has not commended itself in a greater degree to the attention of Europeans, and especially of Englishmen. The English student, at least, is bound by considerations of duty, as well as curiosity, to make himself acquainted with a subject which elucidates and explains the condition of the millions of Hindús who owe allegiance to his own Sovereign, and are governed by English laws. Of all the Indian dramatists, indeed of all Indian poets, the most celebrated is Kálidása, the writer of the present play. The late Professor Lassen thought it probable that he flourished about the middle of the third century after Christ. Professor Kielhorn of Göttingen has proved that the composer of the Mandasor Inscription (A.D. 472) knew Kálidása's Ritusamhára. Hence it may be inferred that Lassen was not far wrong[1]. Possibly some King named Vikramáditya received Kálidása at his Court, and honoured him by his patronage about that time. Little, however, is known of the circumstances of his life. There is certainly no satisfactory evidence to be adduced in support of the tradition current in India that he lived in the time of the _great_ King Vikramáditya I., whose capital was Ujjayiní, now Oujein. From the absence of historical literature in India, our knowledge of the state of Hindústán between the incursion of Alexander and the Muhammadan conquest is very slight. But it is ascertained with tolerable accuracy that, after the invasion of the kingdoms of Bactria and Afghánistán, the Tartars or Scythians (called by the Hindús '[S']akas') overran the north-western provinces of India, and retained possession of them. The great Vikramáditya or Vikramárka succeeded in driving back the barbaric hordes beyond the Indus, and so consolidated his empire that it extended over the whole of Northern Hindústán. His name is even now cherished among the Hindús with pride and affection. His victory over the Scythians is believed to have taken place about B.C. 57. At any rate this is the starting-point of the Vikrama (also called the Málava and in later times the Samvat) era, one of the epochs from which the Hindús still continue to count. There is good authority for affirming that the reign of this Vikramárka or Vikramáditya was equal in brilliancy to that of any monarch in any age. He was a liberal patron of science and literature, and gave splendid encouragement to poets, philologists, astronomers, and mathematicians. Nine illustrious men of genius are said to have adorned his Court, and to have been supported by his bounty. They were called the 'Nine Gems'; and a not unnatural tradition, which, however, must be considered untrustworthy, included Kálidása among the Nine. To Kálidása (as to another celebrated Indian Dramatist, Bhavabhúti, who probably flourished in the eighth century) only three plays are attributed; and of these the '[S']akoontalá' (here translated) has acquired the greatest celebrity [2]. Indeed, the popularity of this play with the natives of India exceeds that of any other dramatic, and probably of any other poetical composition [3]. But it is not in India alone that the '[S']akoontalá' is known and admired. Its excellence is now recognized in every literary circle throughout the continent of Europe; and its beauties, if not yet universally known and appreciated, are at least acknowledged by many learned men in every country of the civilized world. The four well-known lines of Goethe, so often quoted in relation to the Indian drama, may here be repeated: 'Willst du die Blüthe des frühen, die Früchte des späteren Jahres, Willst du was reizt und entzückt, willst du was sättigt und nährt, Willst du den Himmel, die Erde, mit einem Namen begreifen: Nenn' ich, [S']akoontalá, Dich, und so ist Alles gesagt.' 'Would'st thou the young year's blossoms and the fruits of its decline, And all by which the soul is charmed, enraptured, feasted, fed? Would'st thou the Earth and Heaven itself in one sole name combine? I name thee, O [S']akoontalá! and all at once is said.' _E.B. Eastwick_. Augustus William von Schlegel, in his first Lecture on Dramatic Literature, says: 'Among the Indians, the people from whom perhaps all the cultivation of the human race has been derived, plays were known long before they could have experienced any foreign influence. It has lately been made known in Europe that they have a rich dramatic literature, which ascends back for more than two thousand years. The only specimen of their plays (Nátaks) hitherto known to us is the delightful [S']akoontalá, which, notwithstanding the colouring of a foreign clime, bears in its general structure a striking resemblance to our romantic drama.' Alexander von Humboldt, in treating of Indian poetry, observes: 'Kálidása, the celebrated author of the [S']akoontalá, is a masterly describer of the influence which Nature exercises upon the minds of lovers. This great poet flourished at the splendid court of Vikramáditya, and was, therefore, cotemporary with Virgil and Horace. Tenderness in the expression of feeling, and richness of creative fancy, have assigned to him his lofty place among the poets of all nations'. These considerations induced me, in 1853, to compile and publish an edition of the text of the '[S']akoontalá' from various original MSS., with English translations of the metrical passages, and explanatory notes. A second edition of this work has since been published by the Delegates of the Oxford University Press. To the notes of that edition I must refer all students of Sanskrit literature who desire a close and literal translation of the present drama, and in the Preface will be found an account of various other editions and translations. The following pages contain a _free_ translation, and the first English version in prose and metre, of the purest recension of the most celebrated drama of the Shakespeare of India. The need felt by the British public for some such translation as I have here offered can scarcely be questioned. A great people, who, through their empire in India, command the destinies of the Eastern world, ought surely to be conversant with the most popular of Indian dramas, in which the customs of the Hindús, their opinions, prejudices, and fables, their religious rites, daily occupations and amusements, are reflected as in a mirror. Nor is the prose translation of Sir W. Jones (excellent though it be) adapted to meet the requirements of modern times. That translation was unfortunately made from corrupt manuscripts (the best that could then be procured), in which the bold phraseology of Kálidása has been occasionally weakened, his delicate expressions of refined love clothed in an unbecoming dress, and his ideas, grand in their simplicity, diluted by repetition or amplification. It is, moreover, altogether unfurnished with explanatory annotations. The present translation, on the contrary, while representing the purest version of the drama, has abundant notes, sufficient to answer the exigencies of the non-oriental scholar. It may be remarked that in every Sanskrit play the women and inferior characters speak a kind of provincial dialect or _patois_, called Prákrit--bearing the relation to Sanskrit that Italian bears to Latin, or that the spoken Latin of the age of Cicero bore to the highly polished Latin in which he delivered his Orations. Even the heroine of the drama is made to speak in the vernacular dialect. The hero, on the other hand, and all the higher male characters, speak in Sanskrit; and as if to invest them with greater dignity, half of what they say is in verse. Indeed the prose part of their speeches is often very commonplace, being only introductory to the lofty sentiment of the poetry that follows. Thus, if the whole composition be compared to a web, the prose will correspond to the warp, or that part which is extended lengthwise in the loom, while the metrical portion will answer to the cross-threads which constitute the woof. The original verses are written in a great variety of Sanskrit metres. For example, the first thirty-four verses of '[S']akoontalá' exhibit eleven different varieties of metre. No English metrical system could give any idea of the almost infinite resources of Sanskrit in this respect. Nor have I attempted it. Blank verse has been employed by me in my translation, as more in unison with the character of our own dramatic writings, and rhyming stanzas have only been admitted when the subject-matter seemed to call for such a change. Perhaps the chief consideration that induced me to adopt this mode of metrical translation was, that the free and unfettered character of the verse enabled me to preserve more of the freshness and vigour of the original. If the poetical ideas of Kálidása have not been expressed in language as musical as his own, I have at least done my best to avoid diluting them by unwarrantable paraphrases or additions. If the English verses are prosaic, I have the satisfaction of knowing that by resisting the allurements of rhyme, I have done all in my power to avoid substituting a fictitious and meagre poem of my own for the grand, yet simple and chaste creation of Kálidása. The unrestricted liberty of employing hypermetrical lines of eleven syllables, sanctioned by the highest authority in dramatic composition, has, I think, facilitated the attainment of this object. One of our own poets has said in relation to such lines: 'Let it be remembered that they supply us with another cadence; that they add, as it were, a string to the instrument; and--by enabling the poet to relax at pleasure, to rise and fall with his subject--contribute what most is wanted, compass and variety. They are nearest to the flow of an unstudied eloquence, and should therefore be used in the drama[4].' Shakespeare does not scruple to avail himself of this licence four or five times in succession, as in the well-known passage beginning-- 'To be or not to be, that is the question'; and even Milton uses the same freedom once or twice in every page. The poetical merit of Kálidása's '[S']akoontalá' is so universally admitted that any remarks on this head would be superfluous. I will merely observe that, in the opinion of learned natives, the Fourth Act, which describes the departure of [S']akoontalá from the hermitage, contains the most obvious beauties; and that no one can read this Act, nor indeed any part of the play, without being struck with the richness and elevation of its author's genius, the exuberance and glow of his fancy, his ardent love of the beautiful, his deep sympathy with Nature and Nature's loveliest scenes, his profound knowledge of the human heart, his delicate appreciation of its most refined feelings, his familiarity with its conflicting sentiments and emotions. But in proportion to the acknowledged excellence of Kálidása's composition, and in proportion to my own increasing admiration of its beauties, is the diffidence I feel lest I may have failed to infuse any of the poetry of the original into the present version. Translation of poetry must, at the best, resemble the process of pouring a highly volatile and evanescent spirit from one receptacle into another. The original fluid will always suffer a certain amount of waste and evaporation. The English reader will at least be inclined to wonder at the analogies which a thoroughly Eastern play offers to our own dramatic compositions written many centuries later. The dexterity with which the plot is arranged and conducted, the ingenuity with which the incidents are connected, the skill with which the characters are delineated and contrasted with each other, the boldness and felicity of the diction, are scarcely unworthy of the great dramatists of European countries. Nor does the parallel fail in the management of the business of the stage, in minute directions to the actors, and various scenic artifices. The asides and aparts, the exits and the entrances, the manner, attitude, and gait of the speakers, the tone of voice with which they are to deliver themselves, the tears, the smiles, and the laughter, are as regularly indicated as in a modern drama. In reference to the constitution and structure of the play here translated, a few general remarks on the dramatic system of the Hindús may be needed[5]. Dramatic poetry is said to have been invented by the sage Bharata, who lived at a very remote period of Indian history, and was the author of a system of music. The drama of these early times was probably nothing more than the Indian Nách-dance (Nautch) of the present day. It was a species of rude pantomime, in which dancing and movements of the body were accompanied by mute gestures of the hands and face, or by singing and music. Subsequently, dialogue was added, and the art of theatrical representation was brought to great perfection. Elaborate treatises were written which laid down minute regulations for the construction and conduct of plays, and subjected dramatic composition to highly artificial rules of poetical and rhetorical style. For example, the Sáhitya-darpana divides Sanskrit plays into two great classes, the Rúpaka or principal dramas, and the Uparúpaka or minor dramas. At the head of the ten species of Rúpaka stands the Nátaka, of which the '[S']akoontalá' is an example. It should consist of from five to ten Acts; it should have a celebrated story for its plot; it should represent heroic or godlike characters and good deeds; it should be written in an elaborate style, and be full of noble sentiments. Moreover, it should be composed like the end of a cow's tail; so that each of the Acts be gradually shorter. In India, as in Greece, scenic entertainments took place at religious festivals, and on solemn public occasions. Kalidása's '[S']akoontalá' seems to have been acted at the commencement of the summer season--a period peculiarly sacred to Káma-deva, the Indian god of love. We are told that it was enacted before an audience 'consisting chiefly of men of education and discernment.' As the greater part of every play was written in Sanskrit, which, although spoken by the learned in every part of India even at the present day, was certainly not the vernacular language of the country at the time when the Hindú dramas were performed, few spectators would be present who were not of the educated classes. This circumstance is in accordance with the constitution of Hindú society, whereby the productions of literature as well as the offices of state, were reserved for the privileged castes[6]. Every Sanskrit play opens with a prologue, or, to speak more correctly, an introduction, designed to prepare the way for the entrance of the _dramatis personæ_. The prologue commences with a benediction or prayer (pronounced by a Bráhman, or if the stage-manager happened to be of the Bráhmanical caste, by the manager himself), in which the poet invokes the favour of the national deity in behalf of the audience. The blessing is generally followed by a dialogue between the manager and one or two of the actors, in which an account is given of the author of the drama, a complimentary tribute is paid to the critical acumen of the spectators, and such a reference is made to past occurrences or present circumstances as may be necessary for the elucidation of the plot. At the conclusion of the prologue, the manager, by some abrupt exclamation, adroitly introduces one of the dramatic personages, and the real performance commences. The play, being thus opened, is carried forward in scenes and Acts; each scene being marked by the entrance of one character and the exit of another, as in the French drama. The _dramatis personæ_ were divided into three classes--the inferior characters (nicha), who were said to speak Prákrit in a monotonous accentless tone of voice (anudáttoktyá); the middling (madhyama), and the superior (pradhána), who were said to speak Sanskrit with accent, emphasis, and expression (udáttoktyá). In general, the stage is never left vacant till the end of an Act, nor does any change of locality take place until then. The commencement of a new Act is often marked, like the commencement of the piece, by an introductory monologue or dialogue spoken by one or more of the _dramatis personæ_, and called Vishkambha or Prave[S']aka. In this scene allusion is frequently made to events supposed to have occurred in the interval of the Acts, and the audience is the better prepared to take up the thread of the story, which is then skilfully carried on to the concluding scene. The piece closes, as it began, with a prayer for national plenty and prosperity, addressed to the favourite deity, and spoken by one of the principal personages of the drama. Although, in the conduct of the plot, and the delineation of character, Hindú dramatists show considerable skill, yet they do not appear to have been remarkable for much fertility of invention. Love, according to Hindú notions, is the subject of most of their dramas. The hero, who is generally a king, and already the husband of a wife or wives (for a wife or two more or less is no encumbrance in Indian plays), is suddenly smitten with the charms of a lovely woman, sometimes a nymph, or, as in the case of [S']akoontalá, the daughter of a nymph by a mortal father. The heroine is required to be equally impressible, and the first tender glance from the hero's eye reaches her heart. With true feminine delicacy, however, she locks the secret of her passion in her own breast, and by her coyness and reserve keeps her lover for a long period in the agonies of suspense. The hero, being reduced to a proper state of desperation, is harassed by other difficulties. Either the celestial nature of the nymph is in the way of their union, or he doubts the legality of the match, or he fears his own unworthiness, or he is hampered by the angry jealousy of a previous wife. In short, doubts, obstacles, and delays make great havoc of both hero and heroine. They give way to melancholy, indulge in amorous rhapsodies, and become very emaciated. So far, it must be confessed, the story is decidedly dull, and its chain, however, does not commence until the Fourth Act, when the union of the heroine with King Dushyanta, and her acceptance of the marriage-ring as a token of recognition, are supposed to have taken place. Then follows the King's departure and temporary desertion of his bride; the curse pronounced on [S']akoontalá by the choleric Sage; the monarch's consequent loss of memory; the bride's journey to the palace of her husband; the mysterious disappearance of the marriage-token; the public repudiation of [S']akoontalá; her miraculous assumption to closes, as it began, with a prayer for national plenty and prosperity, addressed to the favourite deity, and spoken by one of the principal personages of the drama. Although, in the conduct of the plot, and the delineation of character, Hindú dramatists show considerable skill, yet they do not appear to have been remarkable for much fertility of invention. Love, according to Hindú notions, is the subject of most of their dramas. The hero, who is generally a king, and already the husband of a wife or wives (for a wife or two more or less is no encumbrance in Indian plays), is suddenly smitten with the charms of a lovely woman, sometimes a nymph, or, as in the case of [S']akoontalá, the daughter of a nymph by a mortal father. The heroine is required to be equally impressible, and the first tender glance from the hero's eye reaches her heart. With true feminine delicacy, however, she locks the secret of her passion in her own breast, and by her coyness and reserve keeps her lover for a long period in the agonies of suspense. The hero, being reduced to a proper state of desperation, is harassed by other difficulties. Either the celestial nature of the nymph is in the way of their union, or he doubts the legality of the match, or he his own unworthiness, or he is hampered by the angry jealousy of a previous wife. In short, doubts, obstacles, and delays make great havoc of both hero and heroine. They give way to melancholy, indulge in amorous rhapsodies, and become very emaciated. So far, it must be confessed, the story is decidedly dull, and its pathos, notwithstanding the occasional grandeur and beauty of the imagery, often verges on the ridiculous. But, by way of relief, an element of life is generally introduced in the character of the Vidúshaka, or Jester, who is the constant companion of the hero; and in the young maidens, who are the confidential friends of the heroine, and soon become possessed of her secret. By a curious regulation, the Jester is always a Bráhman, and therefore of a caste superior to the king himself; yet his business is to excite mirth by being ridiculous in person, age, and attire. He is sometimes represented as grey-haired, hump-backed, lame, and ugly. In fact, he is a species of buffoon, who is allowed full liberty of speech, being himself a universal butt. His attempts at wit, which are rarely very successful, and his allusions to the pleasures of the table, of which he is a confessed votary, are absurdly contrasted with the sententious solemnity of the despairing hero, crossed in the prosecution of his love-suit. His clumsy interference in the intrigues of his friend only serves to augment his difficulties, and occasions many an awkward dilemma. On the other hand, the shrewdness of the heroine's confidantes never seems to fail them under the most trying circumstances; while their sly jokes and innuendos, their love of fun, their girlish sympathy with the progress of the love affair, their warm affection for their friend, heighten the interest of the plot, and contribute not a little to vary its monotony. Fortunately, in the '[S']akoontalá' the story is diversified and the interest well sustained by a chain of stirring incidents. The first link of the chain, however, does not commence until the Fourth Act, when the union of the heroine with King Dushyanta, and her acceptance of the marriage-ring as a token of recognition, are supposed to have taken place. Then follows the King's departure and temporary desertion of his bride; the curse pronounced on [S']akoontalá by the choleric Sage; the monarch's consequent loss of memory; the bride's journey to the palace of her husband; the mysterious disappearance of the marriage-token; the public repudiation of [S']akoontalá; her miraculous assumption to a celestial asylum; the unexpected discovery of the ring by a poor fisherman; the King's agony on recovering his recollection; his aërial voyage in the car of Indra; his strange meeting with the refractory child in the groves of Kasyapa; the boy's battle with the young lion; the search for the amulet, by which the King is proved to be his father; the return of [S']akoontalá, and the happy reunion of the lovers;--all these form a connected series of moving and interesting incidents. The feelings of the audience are wrought up to a pitch of great intensity; and whatever emotions of terror, grief, or pity may have been excited, are properly tranquillized by the happy termination of the story. Indeed, if a calamitous conclusion be necessary to constitute a tragedy, the Hindú dramas are never tragedies. They are mixed compositions, in which joy and sorrow, happiness and misery, are woven in a mingled web--tragi-comic representations, in which good and evil, right and wrong, truth and falsehood, are allowed to blend in confusion during the first Acts of the drama. But, in the last Act, harmony is always restored, order succeeds to disorder, tranquillity to agitation; and the mind of the spectator, no longer perplexed by the apparent ascendency of evil, is soothed, and purified, and made to acquiesce in the moral lesson deducible from the plot. The play of '[S']akoontalá,' as Sir W. Jones observes, must have been very popular when it was first performed. The Indian empire was then in its palmy days, and the vanity of the natives would be flattered by the introduction of those kings and heroes who were supposed to have laid the foundation of its greatness and magnificence, and whose were connected with all that was sacred and holy in their religion, Dushyanta, the hero of the drama, according to Indian legends, was one of the descendants of the Moon, or in other words, belonged to the Lunar dynasty of Indian princes; and, if any dependence may be placed on Hindú chronology, he must have lived in the twenty-first or twenty-second generation after the Flood. Puru, his most celebrated ancestor, was the sixth in descent from the Moon's son Budha, who married a daughter of the good King Satya-vrata, preserved by Vishnu in the Ark at the time of the Deluge. The son of Dushyanta, by [S']akoontalá, was Bharata, from whom India is still called by the natives Bhárata-varsha. After him came Samvarana, Kuru, Sántanu, Bhíshma, and Vyasa. The latter was the father of Dhritaráshtra and Pándu, the quarrels of whose sons form the subject of the great Sanskrit epic poem called Mahá-bhárata, a poem with parts of which the audience would be familiar, and in which they would feel the greatest pride. Indeed the whole story of [S']akoontalá is told in the Mahá-bhárata. The pedigree of [S']akoontalá, the heroine of the drama, was no less interesting, and calculated to awaken the religious sympathies of Indian spectators. She was the daughter of the celebrated Vi[s']wámitra, a name associated with many remarkable circumstances in Hindú mythology and history. His genealogy and the principal events of his life are narrated in the Rámáyana, the first of the two epic poems which were to the Hindús what the Iliad and the Odyssey were to the Greeks. He was originally of the regal caste; and, having raised himself to the rank of a Bráhman by the length and rigour of his penance, he became the preceptor of Rámachandra, who was the hero of the Rámáyana, and one of the incarnations of the god Vishnu. With such an antecedent interest in the particulars of the story, the audience could not fail to bring a sharpened appetite, and a self-satisfied frame of mind, to the performance of the play. Although in the following translation it has been thought expedient to conform to modern usage, by indicating at the head of each Act the scene in which it is laid, yet it is proper to apprise the English reader that in scenery and scenic apparatus the Hindú drama, must have been very defective. No directions as to changes of scene are given in the original text of the play. This is the more curious, as there are numerous stage directions, which prove that in respect of dresses and decorations the resources of the Indian theatre were sufficiently ample. It is probable that a curtain suspended across the stage, and divided in the centre, answered all the purposes of scenes. Behind the curtain was the space or room called _nepathya_, where the decorations were kept, where the actors attired themselves, and remained in readiness before entering the stage, and whither they withdrew on leaving it. When an actor was to enter hurriedly, he was directed to do so 'with a toss of the curtain.' The machinery and paraphernalia of the Indian theatre were also very limited, contrasting in this respect unfavourably with the ancient Greek theatre, which appears to have comprehended nearly all that modern ingenuity has devised. Nevertheless, seats, thrones, weapons, and chariots, were certainly introduced, and as the intercourse between the inhabitants of heaven and earth was very frequent, it is not improbable that there may have been aërial contrivances to represent the chariots of celestial beings, as on the Greek stage. It is plain, however, from the frequent occurrence of the word _nátayitwá_, 'gesticulating,' 'acting,' that much had to be supplied by the imagination of the spectator, assisted by the gesticulations of the actors. For further information relative to the dramatic system of the Hindús, the reader is referred to the notes appended to the present translation. It is hoped that they will be found sufficient to explain every allusion that might otherwise be unintelligible to the English reader. MONIER MONIER-WILLIAMS. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: In the Aihole Inscription (edited by Dr. Fleet) of the Western Chálukya King Pulike[S']in II, dated [S']aka 556=A.D. 634-35, actual mention is made of Kálidása and Bháravi by name, and Professor Kielhorn has informed me that he found a verse from the Raghu-van[S']a quoted in an inscription dated A.D. 602.] [Footnote 2: As to the other two, the most celebrated, called Vikramorva[S']í, has been excellently translated by Professors H.H. Wilson and E.B. Cowell, and the Málavikágnimitra, by Professor Weber, the eminent Orientalist of Berlin.] [Footnote 3: The following is an extract from, the _Bombay Times_ of February 3, 1855. It is given _literatim_, and the orthographical errors and mutilation of the story prove that in those days a good and complete version of India's most celebrated drama was not obtainable. 'HINDU DRAMA. 'SATURDAY, 3D FEBRUARY 1855. 'An outline of the play to be performed at the Theatre this night. 'After a short discourse between the Sutradhar (the chief actor) and the Vidúshaka (the clown), Surswati (the Goddess of learning) will appear. Sutradhar will call his wife (Nati), and they will determine on performing the play of Shakuntala. They both will sing songs together, after which Nati will go away. The play will then regularly commence. Dushanta Rajah will appear in the Court, and order his Pradhan (the Minister) to make preparations for a hunting excursion. The Rajah, sitting in his carriage, will pursue a stag, the stag will disappear, upon which Dushanta will ask his coachman the cause thereof, this being known, the Rajah in his carriage will proceed farther, when they will see the stag again, upon which he will aim an arrow at the stag. The stag will run and reach the retirement of Waikhanas Rushi. The sage will come out of his hut and remonstrate with the Rajah against his killing the harmless animal. The Rajah will obey the injunctions of the sage, who will pronounce benedictions upon him. According to the Rushi's instructions, he will prepare to proceed to the residence of another sage named Kunwa. Bidding each other farewell, the Rushi will go to procure material for his religious ceremonies. After reaching Kunwa's place, and commanding his coachman to groom the horses, the Rajah will walk forth to the sage's hut. Observing on his way thither Shakuntala with her fellow mates watering the trees, he will hide himself behind a tree. Shakuntala will praise to her mates the beauty of the Keshar tree. Charmed with overhearing her discourse, Dushanta will try to find out her descent. Shakuntala will be very much teased by a Bhramar (fly) hovering about her face. The Rajah will then come forward and ask the cause of the disturbed state of her mind. After a mutual exchange of polite respect they all take their seats beneath a shady tree, Dushanta will inform her of his country and descent, whereupon they will all go to the Rushi's hut. 'Here there is a pause. A pleasing farce will then be performed.' I have already stated that the '[S']akoontalá' in the words of my own translation has been since performed at Bombay and recently at Trivandrum, the capital of Travancore (see Preface to this edition, p. vii, &c).] [Footnote 4: Rogers' Italy, note to line 23.] [Footnote 5: The admirable Essay by Professor H.H. Wilson, prefixed to his Hindú Theatre, is the principal source of the information which I have here given.] [Footnote 6: Wilson's Hindú Theatre, p. xii.] RULES FOR THE PRONUNCIATION OF THE PROPER NAMES. Observe, that in order to secure the correct pronunciation of the title of this Drama, 'Sakuntalá' has been spelt '[S']akoontalá,' the _u_ of [S']akuntalá being pronounced like the _u_ in the English word _rule_. The vowel _a_ must invariably be pronounced with a dull sound, like the _a_ in _organ_, or the _u_ in _gun, sun. Dushyanta_ must therefore be pronounced as if written _Dooshyunta_. The long vowel _á_ is pronounced like the _a_ in _last, cart_; _i_ like the _i_ in _pin, sin_; _í_ like the _i_ in _marine_; _e_ like the _e_ in _prey_; _o_ like the _o_ in _so_; _ai_ like the _ai_ in _aisle_; _au_ like _au_ in the German word _haus_, or like the _ou_ in _our_. The consonants are generally pronounced as in English, but _g_ has always the sound of _g_ in _gun, give_, never of _g_ in _gin_. S with the accent over it (s), has the sound of _s_ in _sure_, or of the last _s_ in _session_. * * * * * PERSONS REPRESENTED. * * * * * DUSHYANTA, _King of India_. MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _the jester, friend, and companion of the King_. KANWA, _chief of the hermits, foster-father of_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. [S']ÁRNGARAVA,} } _two Bráhmans, belonging to the hermitage of KANWA_. [S']ÁRADWATA, } MITRÁVASU, _brother-in-law of the King, and superintendent of the city police_. JÁNUKA _and_ SÚCHAKA, _two constables_. VÁTÁYANA, _the chamberlain or attendant on the women's apartments_. SOMARÁTA, _the domestic priest_. KARABHAKA, _a messenger of the queen-mother_. RAIVATIKA, _the warder or doorkeeper_. MÁTALI, _charioteer of Indra_. SARVA-DAMANA, _afterwards_ BHARATA, _a little boy, son of_ DUSHYANTA by [S']AKOONTALÁ. KA[S']YAPA, _a divine sage, progenitor of men and gods, son of_ MARÍCHI, _and grandson of_ BRAHMÁ. [S']AKOONTALÁ, _daughter of the sage_ VI[S']WÁMITRA _and the nymph_ MENAKÁ, _foster-child of the hermit_ KANWA. PRIYAMVADÁ _and_ ANASÚYÁ, _female attendants, companions of_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. GAUTAMÍ, _a holy matron, Superior of the female inhabitants of the hermitage_. VASUMATÍ, _the Queen of_ DUSHYANTA. SÁNUMATÍ, _a nymph, friend of_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. TARALIKÁ, _personal attendant of the Queen_. CHATURIKÁ, _personal attendant of the King_. VETRAVATÍ, _female warder or doorkeeper_. PARABHRITIKÁ} _and_ MADHUKARIKÁ,} _maidens in charge of the royal gardens_. SUVRATÁ, _a nurse_. ADITI, _wife of_ KA[S']YAPA; _granddaughter of_ BRAHMÁ _through her father_ DAKSHA. CHARIOTEER, FISHERMAN, OFFICERS, AND HERMITS. [S']AKOONTALÁ; OR, THE LOST RING. PROLOGUE. BENEDICTION. Í[S']a preserve you [1]! he who is revealed In these eight forms[2] by man perceptible-- Water, of all creation's works the first; The Fire that bears on high the sacrifice Presented with solemnity to heaven; The Priest, the holy offerer of gifts; The Sun and Moon, those two majestic orbs, Eternal marshallers of day and night; The subtle Ether, vehicle of sound, Diffused throughout the boundless universe; The Earth, by sages called 'The place of birth Of all material essences and things'; And Air, which giveth life to all that breathe. STAGE-MANAGER. [_After the recitation of the benediction_.] [_Looking toward the living-room_.] Lady, when you have finished attiring yourself, come this way. ACTRESS. [_Entering_.] Here I am, Sir; what are your commands? STAGE-MANAGER. We are here before the eyes of an audience of educated and discerning men[3]; and have to represent in their presence a new drama composed by Kálidása, called '[S']akoontalá; or, the Lost Ring[4].' Let the whole company exert themselves to do justice to their several parts. ACTRESS. You, Sir, have so judiciously managed the cast of the characters, that nothing will be defective in the acting. STAGE-MANAGER. Lady, I will tell you the exact state of the case, No skill in acting can I deem complete, Till from the wise the actor gain applause; Know that the heart e'en of the truly skilful, Shrinks from too boastful confidence in self. ACTRESS. [_Modestly_.] You judge correctly And now, what are your commands? STAGE-MANAGER. What can you do better than engage the attention of the audience by some captivating melody? ACTRESS. Which among the seasons shall I select as the subject of my song? STAGE-MANAGER. You surely ought to give the preference to the present Summer season[5] that has but recently commenced, a season so rich in enjoyment. For now Unceasing are the charms of halcyon days, When the cool bath exhilarates the frame; When sylvan gales are laden with the scent Of fragrant Pátalas[6]; when soothing sleep Creeps softly on beneath the deepening shade; And when, at last, the dulcet calm of eve Entrancing steals o'er every yielding sense. ACTRESS. I will:-- [_Sings_.] Fond maids, the chosen of their hearts to please, Entwine their ears with sweet [S']irísha flowers[7], Whose fragrant lips attract the kiss of bees That softly murmur through the summer hours. STAGE-MANAGER. Charmingly sung! The audience are motionless as statues, their souls riveted by the enchanting strain. What subject shall we select for representation, that we may ensure a continuance of their favour? ACTRESS. Why not the same, Sir, announced by you at first? Let the drama called '[S']akoontalá; or, the Lost Ring,' be the subject of our dramatic performance. STAGE-MANAGER. Rightly reminded! For the moment I had forgotten it. Your song's transporting melody decoyed My thoughts, and rapt with ecstasy my soul; As now the bounding antelope allures The King Dushyanta[8] on the chase intent. [_Exeunt_. ACT I. SCENE-_A Forest_. _Enter King_ DUSHYANTA, _armed with a bow and arrow, in a chariot, chasing an antelope, attended by his_ CHARIOTEER. CHARIOTEER. [_Looking at the deer, and then at the_ KING. Great Prince, When on the antelope I bend my gaze, And on your Majesty, whose mighty bow Has its string firmly braced; before my eyes The god that wields the trident[9] seems revealed. Chasing the deer that flies from him in vain. KING. Charioteer, this fleet antelope has drawn us far from my attendants. See! there he runs: Aye and anon his graceful neck he bends To cast a glance at the pursuing car; And dreading now the swift-descending shaft, Contracts into itself his slender frame; About his path, in scattered fragments strewn, The half-chewed grass falls from his panting mouth; See! in his airy bounds he seems to fly, And leaves no trace upon th' elastic turf. [_With astonishment_.] How now! swift as is our pursuit, I scarce can see him. CHARIOTEER. Sire, the ground here is full of hollows; I have therefore drawn in the reins and checked the speed of the chariot. Hence the deer has somewhat gained upon us. Now that we are passing over level ground, we shall have no difficulty in overtaking him. KING. Loosen the reins, then. CHARIOTEER. The King is obeyed. [_Drives the chariot at full speed_.] Great Prince, see I see! Responsive to the slackened rein, the steeds, Chafing with eager rivalry, career With emulative fleetness o'er the plain; Their necks outstretched, their waving plumes, that late Fluttered above their brows, are motionless[10]; Their sprightly ears, but now erect, bent low; Themselves unsullied by the circling dust, That vainly follows on their rapid course. KING. [_Joyously_. In good sooth, the horses seem as if they would outstrip the steeds of Indra and the Sun[11]. That which but now showed to my view minute Quickly assumes dimension; that which seemed A moment since disjoined in diverse parts, Looks suddenly like one compacted whole; That which is really crooked in its shape In the far distance left, grows regular; Wondrous the chariot's speed, that in a breath, Makes the near distant and the distant near. Now, Charioteer, see me kill the deer. [_Takes aim_. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Hold, O King! this deer belongs to our hermitage. Kill it not! kill it not! CHARIOTEER. [_Listening and looking_. Great King, some hermits have stationed themselves so as to screen the antelope at the very moment of its coming within range of your arrow. KING. [_Hastily_. Then stop the horses. CHARIOTEER. I obey. [_Stops the chariot_. _Enter a_ HERMIT, _and two others with him_.] HERMIT. [_Raising his hand_. This deer, O King, belongs to our hermitage. Kill it not! kill it not! Now heaven forbid this barbed shaft descend Upon the fragile body of a fawn, Like fire upon a heap of tender flowers! Can thy steel bolts no meeter quarry find Than the warm life-blood of a harmless deer? Restore, great Prince, thy weapon to its quiver. More it becomes thy arms to shield the weak, Than to bring anguish on the innocent. KING. 'Tis done. [_Replaces the arrow in its quiver_. HERMIT. Worthy is this action of a Prince, the light of Puru's race[12]. Well does this act befit a Prince like thee, Right worthy is it of thine ancestry. Thy guerdon be a son of peerless worth, Whose wide dominion shall embrace the earth. BOTH THE OTHER HERMITS. [_Raising their hands_. May heaven indeed grant thee a son, a sovereign of the earth from sea to sea! KING. [_Bowing_. I accept with gratitude a Bráhman's benediction. HERMIT. We came hither, mighty Prince, to collect sacrificial wood. Here on the banks of the Máliní you may perceive the hermitage of the great sage Kanwa[13]. If other duties require not your presence, deign to enter and accept our hospitality. When you behold our penitential rites Performed without impediment by saints Rich only in devotion, then with pride Will you reflect:--Such are the holy men Who call me Guardian; such the men for whom To wield the bow I bare my nervous arm, Scarred by the motion of the glancing string. KING. Is the Chief of your Society now at home? HERMIT. No; he has gone to Soma-tírtha[14] to propitiate Destiny, which threatens his daughter [S']akoontalá with some calamity; but he has commissioned her in his absence to entertain all guests with hospitality. KING. Good! I will pay her a visit. She will make me acquainted with the mighty sage's acts of penance and devotion. HERMIT. And we will depart on our errand. [_Exit with his companions_. KING. Charioteer, urge on the horses. We will at least purify our souls by a sight of this hallowed retreat. CHARIOTEER. Your Majesty is obeyed. [_Drives the chariot with great velocity_. KING. [_Looking all about him_. Charioteer, even without being told, I should have known that these were the precincts of a grove consecrated to penitential rites. CHARIOTEER. How so? KING. Do not you observe? Beneath the trees, whose hollow trunks afford Secure retreat to many a nestling brood Of parrots, scattered grains of rice lie strewn. Lo! here and there are seen the polished slabs That serve to bruise the fruit of Ingudí[15]. The gentle roe-deer, taught to trust in man, Unstartled hear our voices. On the paths Appear the traces of bark-woven vests[16] Borne dripping from the limpid fount of waters. And mark! Laved are the roots of trees by deep canals [17], Whose glassy waters tremble in the breeze; The sprouting verdure of the leaves is dimmed By dusky wreaths of upward curling smoke From burnt oblations; and on new-mown lawns Around our car graze leisurely the fawns. CHARIOTEER. I observe it all. KING. [_Advancing a little further_. The inhabitants of this sacred retreat must not be disturbed. Stay the chariot, that I may alight. CHARIOTEER. The reins are held in. Your Majesty may descend. KING. [_Alighting_. Charioteer, groves devoted to penance must be entered in humble attire. Take these ornaments. [_Delivers his ornaments and bow to CHARIOTEER_.] Charioteer, see that the horses are watered, and attend to them until I return from visiting the inhabitants of the hermitage. CHARIOTEER. I Will. [_Exit_. KING. [_Walking and looking about_. Here is the entrance to the hermitage. I will now go in. [_Entering and feeling a throbbing sensation in his arm_. Serenest peace is in this calm retreat, By passion's breath unruffled; what portends My throbbing arm[18]? Why should it whisper here Of happy love? Yet everywhere around us Stand the closed portals of events unknown. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. This way, my dear companions; this way. KING. [_Listening_. Hark! I hear voices to the right of yonder grove of trees. I will walk in that direction. [_Walking and looking about_.] Ah! here are the maidens of the hermitage coming this way to water the shrubs, carrying water-pots proportioned to their strength. [_Gazing at them_.] How graceful they look! In palaces such charms are rarely ours; The woodland plants outshine the garden flowers. I will conceal myself in this shade and watch them. [_Stands gazing at them_. _Enter [S']AKOONTALÁ, with her two female companions, employed in the manner described_. [S']AKOONTALÁ This way, my dear companions; this way. ANASÚYÁ. Dear [S']akoontalá, one would think that father Kanwa had more affection for the shrubs of the hermitage even than for you, seeing he assigns to you, who are yourself as delicate as the fresh-blown jasmine, the task of filling with water the trenches which encircle their roots. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Dear Anasúyá, although I am charged by my good father with this duty, yet I cannot regard it as a task. I really feel a sisterly love for these plants. [_Continues watering the shrubs_. KING. Can this be the daughter of Kanwa? The saintly man, though descended from the great Kasyapa, must be very deficient in judgment to habituate such a maiden to the life of a recluse. The sage who would this form of artless grace Inure to penance, thoughtlessly attempts To cleave in twain the hard acacia's stem[19] With the soft edge of a blue lotus-leaf. Well! concealed behind this tree, I will watch her without raising her suspicions. [_Conceals himself_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Good Anasúyá, Priyamvadá has drawn this bark-dress too tightly about my chest. I pray thee, loosen it a little. ANASÚYÁ. I will. [_Loosens it_. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Smiling_. Why do you lay the blame on me? Blame rather your own blooming youthfulness which imparts fulness to your bosom. KING. A most just observation! This youthful form, whose bosom's swelling charms By the bark's knotted tissue are concealed, Like some fair bud close folded in its sheath, Gives not to view the blooming of its beauty. But what am I saying? In real truth this bark-dress, though ill-suited to her figure, sets it off like an ornament. The lotus[20] with the [S']aivala[21] entwined Is not a whit less brilliant; dusky spots Heighten the lustre of the cold-rayed moon; This lovely maiden in her dress of bark Seems all the lovelier. E'en the meanest garb Gives to true beauty fresh attractiveness. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [Looking before her. Yon Ke[S']ara-tree[22] beckons to me with its young shoots, which, as the breeze waves them to and fro, appear like slender fingers. I will go and attend to it. [_Walks towards it_. PRIYAMVADÁ. Dear [S']akoontalá, prithee, rest in that attitude one moment. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Why so? PRIYAMVADÁ The Ke[S']ara-tree, whilst your graceful form bends about its stem, appears as if it were wedded to some lovely twining creeper. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Ah! saucy girl, you are most appropriately named Priyamvadá ('Speaker of flattering things'). KING. What Priyamvadá says, though complimentary, is nevertheless true. Verily, Her ruddy lip vies with the opening bud; Her graceful arms are as the twining stalks; And her whole form is radiant with the glow Of youthful beauty, as the tree with bloom. ANASÚYÁ. See, dear [S']akoontalá, here is the young jasmine, which you named 'the Moonlight of the Grove,' the self-elected wife of the mango-tree. Have you forgotten it? [S']AKOONTALÁ. Rather will I forget myself. [_Approaching the plant and looking at it_.] How delightful is the season when the jasmine-creeper and the mango-tree seem thus to unite in mutual embraces! The fresh blossoms of the jasmine resemble the bloom of a young bride, and the newly-formed shoots of the mango appear to make it her natural protector. [_Continues gazing at it_. PRIYAMVADÁ. Do you know, my Anasúyá, why [S']akoontalá gazes so intently at the jasmine? ANASÚYÁ. No, indeed, I cannot imagine. I pray thee tell me. PRIYAMVADÁ. She is wishing that as the jasmine is united to a suitable tree, so, in like manner, she may obtain a husband worthy of her. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Speak for yourself, girl; this is the thought in your own mind. [_Continues watering the flowers_. KING. Would that my union with her were permissible[23]! and yet I hardly dare hope that the maiden is sprung from a caste different from that of the Head of the hermitage. But away with doubt: That she is free to wed a warrior-king My heart attests. For, in conflicting doubts, The secret promptings of the good man's soul Are an unerring index of the truth. However, come what may, I will ascertain the fact. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_In a flurry_. Ah! a bee, disturbed by the sprinkling of the water, has left the young jasmine, and is trying to settle on my face. [_Attempts to drive it away_. KING. [_Gazing at her ardently_. Beautiful! there is something charming even in her repulse. Where'er the bee his eager onset plies, Now here, now there, she darts her kindling eyes; What love hath yet to teach, fear teaches now, The furtive glances and the frowning brow. [_In a tone of envy_. Ah, happy bee! how boldly dost thou try To steal the lustre from her sparkling eye; And in thy circling movements hover near, To murmur tender secrets in her ear; Or, as she coyly waves her hand, to sip Voluptuous nectar from her lower lip! While rising doubts my heart's fond hopes destroy, Thou dost the fulness of her charms enjoy. [S']AKOONTALÁ. This impertinent bee will not rest quiet. I must move elsewhere. [_Moving a few steps off, and casting a glance around_.] How now! he is following me here. Help! my dear friends, help! deliver me from the attacks of this troublesome insect. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. How can we deliver you? Call Dushyanta to your aid. The sacred groves are under the King's special protection. KING. An excellent opportunity for me to show myself. Fear not-- [_Checks himself when the words are half-uttered; Aside_.] But stay, if I introduce myself in this manner, they will know me to be the King. Be it so, I will accost them, nevertheless. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Moving a step or two further off_. What! it still persists in following me. KING. [_Advancing hastily_. When mighty Puru's offspring sways the earth, And o'er the wayward holds his threatening rod, Who dares molest the gentle maids that keep Their holy vigils here in Kanwa's grove? [_All look at the_ KING, _and all are embarrassed_. ANASÚYÁ. Kind Sir, no outrage has been committed; only our dear friend here was teased by the attacks of a troublesome bee. [_Points to_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. KING. [_Turning to_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. I trust all is well with your devotional rites[24]? [[S']AKOONTALÁ _stands confused and silent_.] ANASÚYÁ. All is well indeed, now that we are honoured by the reception of a distinguished guest. Dear [S']akoontalá, go, bring from the hermitage an offering of flowers, rice, and fruit. This water that we have brought with us will serve to bathe our guest's feet[25]. KING. The rites of hospitality are already performed; your truly kind words are the best offering I can receive. PRIYAMVADÁ. At least be good enough, gentle Sir, to sit down awhile, and rest yourself on this seat shaded by the leaves of the Sapta-parna tree[26]. KING. You, too, must all be fatigued by your employment. ANASÚYÁ. Dear [S']akoontalá, there is no impropriety in our sitting by the side of our guest; come, let us sit down here. [_All sit down together_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. How is it that the sight of this made me sensible of emotions inconsistent with religious vows? KING. [_Gazing at them all By turns_. How charmingly your friendship is in keeping with the equality of your ages and appearance! PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aside to ANASÚYÁ_. Who can this person be, whose lively yet dignified manner, and polite conversation, bespeak him a man of high rank? ANASÚYÁ. I, too, my dear, am very curious to know. I will ask him myself. [_Aloud_] Your kind words, noble Sir, fill me with confidence, and prompt me to inquire of what regal family our noble guest is the ornament? what country is now mourning his absence? and what induced a person so delicately nurtured to expose himself to the fatigue of visiting this grove of penance? [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. Be not troubled, O my heart, Anasúyá is giving utterance to thy thoughts. KING. [_Aside_. How now shall I reply? shall I make myself known, or shall I still disguise my real rank? I have it; I will answer her thus. [_Aloud_.] I am the person charged by his Majesty, the descendant of Puru, with the administration of justice and religion; and am come to this sacred grove to satisfy myself that the rites of the hermits are free from obstruction. ANASÚYÁ. The hermits, then, and all the members of our religious society, have now a guardian. [[S']AKOONTALÁ _gazes bashfully at the_ KING. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Perceiving the state of her feelings, and of the_ KING'S. _Aside to_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. Dear [S']akoontalá, if father Kanwa were but at home to-day-- [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Angrily_. What if he were? PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. He would honour this our distinguished guest with an offering of the most precious of his possessions. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Go to! you have some silly idea in your minds, I will not listen to such remarks. KING. May I be allowed, in my turn, to ask you maidens a few particulars respecting your friend? PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Your request, Sir, is an honour. KING. The sage Kanwa lives in the constant practice of austerities. How, then, can this friend of yours be called his daughter? ANASÚYÁ. I will explain to you. Sir. You have heard of an illustrious sage of regal caste, Vi[s']wámitra, whose family name is Kau[S']ika[27]. KING. I have. ANASÚYÁ. Know that he is the real father of our friend. The venerable Kanwa is only her reputed father. He it was who brought her up, when she was deserted by her mother. KING. 'Deserted by her mother!' My curiosity is excited; pray let me hear the story from the beginning. ANASÚYÁ. You shall hear it, Sir. Some time since, this sage of regal caste, while performing a most severe penance on the banks of the river Godávarí, excited the jealousy and alarm of the gods; insomuch that they despatched a lovely nymph named Menaká to interrupt his devotions. KING. The inferior gods, I am aware, are jealous[28] of the power which the practice of excessive devotion confers on mortals. ANASÚYÁ. Well, then, it happened that Vi[s']wámitra, gazing on the bewitching beauty of that nymph at a season when, spring being in its glory-- [_Stops short, and appears confused_. KING. The rest may be easily divined. [S']akoontalá, then, is the offspring of the nymph. ANASÚYÁ. Just so. KING. It is quite intelligible. How would a mortal to such charms give birth? The lightning's radiance flashes not from earth. [[S']AKOONTALÁ _remains modestly seated with downcast eyes_. _Aside_.] And so my desire has really scope for its indulgence. Yet I am still distracted by doubts, remembering the pleasantry of her female companions respecting her wish for a husband. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Looking with a smile at [S']AKOONTALÁ, and then turning towards the KING.] You seem desirous, Sir, of asking something further. [[S']AKOONTALÁ _makes a chiding gesture with her finger_. KING. You conjecture truly. I am so eager to hear the particulars of your friend's history, that I have still another question to ask. PRIYAMVADÁ. Scruple not to do so. Persons who lead the life of hermits may be questioned unreservedly. KING. I wish to ascertain one point respecting your friend. Will she be bound by solitary vows Opposed to love, till her espousals only? Or ever dwell with these her cherished fawns, Whose eyes, in lustre vying with her own, Return her gaze of sisterly affection? PRIYAMVADÁ. Hitherto, Sir, she has been engaged in the practice of religious duties, and has lived in subjection to her foster-father; but it is now his fixed intention to give her away in marriage to a husband worthy of her. KING. [_Aside_. His intention may be easily carried into effect. Be hopeful, O my heart, thy harrowing doubts Are past and gone; that which thou didst believe To be as unapproachable as fire, Is found a glittering gem that may be touched. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Pretending anger_. Anasúyá, I shall leave you. ANASÚYÁ. Why so? [S']AKOONTALÁ. That I may go and report this impertinent Priyamvadá to the venerable matron, Gautamí[29]. ANASÚYÁ. Surely, dear friend, it would not be right to leave a distinguished guest before he has received the rites of hospitality, and quit his presence in this wilful manner. [[S']AKOONTALÁ, _without answering a word, moves away_. KING. [_Making a movement to arrest her departure, but checking himself. Aside_. Ah! a lover's feelings betray themselves by his gestures. When I would fain have stayed the maid, a sense Of due decorum checked my bold design; Though I have stirred not, yet my mien betrays My eagerness to follow on her steps. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Holding [S']AKOONTALÁ back_. Dear [S']akoontalá, it does not become you to go away in this manner. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Frowning_. Why not, pray? PRIYAMVADÁ. You are under a promise to water two more shrubs for me. When you have paid your debt, you shall go, and not before. [_Forces her to turn back_. KING. Spare her this trouble, gentle maiden. The exertion of watering the shrubs has already fatigued her. The water-jar has overtasked the strength Of her slim arms; her shoulders droop, her hands Are ruddy with the glow of quickened pulses; E'en now her agitated breath imparts Unwonted tremor to her heaving breast; The pearly drops that mar the recent bloom Of the [S']irísha pendent in her ear, Gather in clustering circles on her cheek; Loosed is the fillet of her hair; her hand Restrains the locks that struggle to be free. Suffer me, then, thus to discharge the debt for you. [_Offers a ring to_ PRIYAMVADÁ. _Both the maidens, reading the name_ DUSHYANTA _on the seal, look at each other with surprise_. KING. Nay, think not that I am King Dushyanta. I am only the King's officer, and this is the ring which I have received from him as my credentials. PRIYAMVADÁ. The greater the reason you ought not to part with the ring from your finger. I am content to release her from her obligation at your simple request. [_With a smile_.] Now, [S']akoontalá, my love, you are at liberty to retire, thanks to the intercession of this noble stranger, or rather of this mighty prince. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. My movements are no longer under my own control. [_Aloud_. Pray, what authority have you over me, either to send me away or keep me back? KING. [_Gazing at_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. _Aside_. Would I could ascertain whether she is affected towards me as I am towards her! At any rate, my hopes are free to indulge themselves. Because, Although she mingles not her words with mine, Yet doth her listening ear drink in my speech; Although her eye shrinks from my ardent gaze, No form but mine attracts its timid glances. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. O hermits, be ready to protect the animals belonging to our hermitage. King Dushyanta, amusing himself with hunting, is near at hand. Lo! by the feet of prancing horses raised, Thick clouds of moving dust, like glittering swarms Of locusts, in the glow of eventide, Fall on the branches of our sacred trees Where hang the dripping vests of woven bark, Bleached by the waters of the cleansing fountain. And see! Scared by the royal chariot in its course, With headlong haste an elephant invades The hallowed precincts of our sacred grove; Himself the terror of the startled deer, And an embodied hindrance to our rites. The hedge of creepers clinging to his feet, Feeble obstruction to his mad career, Is dragged behind him in a tangled chain; And with terrific shock one tusk he drives Into the riven body of a tree, Sweeping before him all impediments. KING. [_Aside_. Out upon it! my retinue are looking for me, and are disturbing this holy retreat. Well! there is no help for it; I must go and meet them. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Noble Sir, we are terrified by the accidental disturbance caused by the wild elephant. Permit us to return to the cottage. KING. [_Hastily_. Go, gentle maidens. It shall be our care that no injury happen to the hermitage. [_All rise up_. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. After such poor hospitality, we are ashamed to request the honour of a second visit from you. KING. Say not so. The mere sight of you, sweet maidens, has been to me the best entertainment. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Anasúyá, a pointed blade of Ku[s']a-grass [30] has pricked my foot; and my bark-mantle is caught in the branch of a Kuruvaka-bush[31]. Be so good as to wait for me until I have disentangled it. [_Exit with her two companions, after making pretexts for delay, that she may steal glances at the_ KING. KING. I have no longer any desire to return to the city. I will therefore rejoin my attendants, and make them encamp somewhere in the vicinity of this sacred grove. In good truth, [S']akoontalá has taken such possession of my thoughts, that I cannot turn myself in any other direction. My limbs drawn onward leave my heart behind, Like silken pennon borne against the wind. * * * * * ACT II. SCENE.--_A plain on the skirts of the forest. Enter the Jester_ [32] MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _in a melancholy mood_. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Sighing_. Heigh-ho! what an unlucky fellow I am! worn to a shadow by my royal friend's sporting propensities. 'Here's a deer!' 'There goes a boar!' 'Yonder's a tiger!' This is the only burden of our talk, while in the heat of the meridian sun we toil on from jungle to jungle, wandering about in the paths of the woods, where the trees afford us no shelter. Are we thirsty? We have nothing to drink but the dirty water of some mountain stream mixed with dry leaves, which give it a most pungent flavour. Are we hungry? We have nothing to eat but roast game[33], which we must swallow down at odd times, as best we can. Even at night there is no peace to be had. Sleeping is out of the question, with joints all strained by dancing attendance upon my sporting friend; or if I do happen to doze, I am awakened at the very earliest dawn by the horrible din of a lot of rascally beaters and huntsmen, who must needs surround the wood before sunrise, and deafen me with their clatter. Nor are these my only troubles. Here's a fresh grievance, like a new boil rising upon an old one! Yesterday, while we were lagging behind, my royal friend entered yonder hermitage after a deer; and there, as ill-luck would have it, caught sight of a beautiful girl, called [S']akoontalá, the hermit's daughter. From that moment, not another thought about returning to the city! and all last night not a wink of sleep did he get for thinking of the damsel. What is to be done? At any rate I will be on the watch for him as soon as he has finished his toilet. [_Walking and looking about_.] Oh! here he comes, attended by the Yavana women[34], with bows in their hands, wearing garlands of wild flowers. What shall I do? I have it. I will pretend to stand in the easiest attitude for resting my bruised and crippled limbs. [_Stands leaning on a staff_. _Enter King_ DUSHYANTA, _followed by a retinue, in the manner described_. KING. True, by no easy conquest may I win her, Yet are my hopes encouraged by her mien, Love is not yet triumphant; but, methinks, The hearts of both are ripe for his delights. [_Smiling_. Ah! thus does the lover delude himself; judging of the state of his loved one's feelings by his own desires. But yet, The stolen glance with half-averted eye, The hesitating gait, the quick rebuke Addressed to her companion, who would fain Have stayed her counterfeit departure; these Are signs not unpropitious to my suit. So eagerly the lover feeds his hopes, Claiming each trivial gesture for his own. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Still in the same attitude_. Ah, friends, my hands cannot move to greet you with the usual salutation. I can only just command my lips to wish your Majesty victory. KING. Why, what has paralysed your limbs? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. You might as well ask me how my eye comes to water after you have poked your finger into it. KING. I don't understand you; speak more intelligibly. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Ah, my dear friend, is yonder upright reed transformed into a crooked plant by its own act, or by the force of the current? KING. The current of the river causes it, I suppose. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Ay; just as you are the cause of my crippled limbs. KING. How so? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Here are you living the life of a wild man of the woods in a savage unfrequented region, while your State-affairs are left to shift for themselves; and as for poor me, I am no longer master of my own limbs, but have to follow you about day after day in your chases after wild animals, till my bones are all crippled and out of joint. Do, my dear friend, let me have one day's rest. KING. [_Aside_. This fellow little knows, while he talks in this manner, that my mind is wholly engrossed by recollections of the hermit's daughter, and quite as disinclined to the chase as his own. No longer can I bend my well-braced bow Against the timid deer; nor e'er again With well-aimed arrows can I think to harm These her beloved associates, who enjoy The privilege of her companionship; Teaching her tender glances in return. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Looking in the King's face_. I may as well speak to the winds, for any attention you pay to my requests. I suppose you have something on your mind, and are talking it over to yourself. KING. [_Smiling_. I was only thinking that I ought not to disregard a friend's request. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Then may the King live for ever! [_Moves off_. KING. Stay a moment, my dear friend. I have something else to say to you. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Say on, then. KING. When you have rested, you must assist me in another business which will give you no fatigue. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. In eating something nice, I hope. KING. You shall know at some future time. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. No time better than the present. KING. What ho, there! WARDER. [_Entering_. What are your Majesty's commands? KING. O Raivatika, bid the General of the forces attend. WARDER. I will, Sire. [_Exit and re-enters with the_ GENERAL.] Come forward, General; his Majesty is looking towards you, and has some order to give you. GENERAL. [_Looking at the_ KING. Though hunting is known to produce ill effects, my royal master has derived only benefit from it. For Like the majestic elephant that roams O'er mountain wilds, so does the King display A stalwart frame, instinct with vigorous life. His brawny arms and manly chest are scored By frequent passage of the sounding string; Unharmed he bears the midday sun; no toil His mighty spirit daunts; his sturdy limbs, Stripped of redundant flesh, relinquish nought Of their robust proportions, but appear In muscle, nerve, and sinewy fibre cased. [_Approaching the_ KING. Victory to the King! We have tracked the wild beasts to their lairs in the forest. Why delay, when everything is ready? KING. My friend Má[T.]Havya here has been disparaging the chase, till he has taken away all my relish for it. GENERAL. [_Aside to_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Persevere in your opposition, my good fellow; I will sound the King's real feelings, and humour him accordingly. [_Aloud_. The blockhead talks nonsense, and your Majesty in your own person furnishes the best proof of it. Observe, Sire, the advantage and pleasure the hunter derives from the chase. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Angrily_. Away! tempter, away! The King has recovered his senses, and is himself again. As for you, you may, if you choose, wander about from forest to forest, till some old bear seizes you by the nose, and makes a mouthful of you. KING. My good General, as we are just now in the neighbourhood of a consecrated grove, your panegyric upon hunting is somewhat ill-timed, and I cannot assent to all you have said. For the present, All undisturbed the buffaloes shall sport In yonder pool, and with their ponderous horns Scatter its tranquil waters, while the deer, Couched here and there in groups beneath the shade Of spreading branches, ruminate in peace. And all securely shall the herd of boars Feed on the marshy sedge; and thou, my bow, With slackened string, enjoy a long repose. GENERAL. So please your Majesty, it shall be as you desire. KING. Recall, then, the beaters who were sent in advance to surround the forest. My troops must not be allowed to disturb this sacred retreat, and irritate its pious inhabitants. Know that within the calm and cold recluse Lurks unperceived a germ of smothered flame, All-potent to destroy; a latent fire That rashly kindled bursts with fury forth; As in the disc of crystal[35] that remains Cool to the touch, until the solar ray Falls on its polished surface, and excites The burning heat that lies within concealed. GENERAL. Your Majesty's commands shall be obeyed. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Off with you, you son of a slave! Your nonsense won't go down here, my fine fellow. [_Exit_ GENERAL. KING. [_Looking at his attendants_. Here, women, take my hunting-dress; and you, Raivatika, keep guard carefully outside. ATTENDANTS. We will, Sire. [_Exeunt_. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Now that you have got rid of these plagues, who have been buzzing about us like so many flies, sit down, do, on that stone slab, with the shade of the tree as your canopy, and I will seat myself by you quite comfortably. KING. Go you, and sit down first. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Come along, then. [_Both walk on a little way, and seat themselves_. KING. Má[T.]Havya, it may be said of you that you have never beheld anything worth seeing; for your eyes have not yet looked upon the loveliest object in creation. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. How can you say so, when I see your Majesty before me at this moment? KING. It is very natural that every one should consider his own friend perfect; but I was alluding to [S']akoontalá, the brightest ornament of these hallowed groves. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. I understand well enough, but I am not going to humour him. [_Aloud_. If, as you intimate, she is a hermit's daughter, you cannot lawfully ask her in marriage. You may as well then dismiss her from your mind, for any good the mere sight of her can do. KING. Think you that a descendant of the mighty Puru could fix his affections on an unlawful object? Though, as men say, the offspring of the sage, The maiden to a nymph celestial owes Her being, and by her mother left on earth, Was found and nurtured by the holy man As his own daughter, in this hermitage. So, when dissevered from its parent stalk, Some falling blossom of the jasmine[36], wafted Upon the sturdy sun-flower, is preserved By its support from premature decay. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Smiling_. This passion of yours for a rustic maiden, when you have so many gems of women at home in your palace, seems to me very like the fancy of a man who is tired of sweet dates, and longs for sour tamarinds as a variety. KING. You have not seen her, or you would not talk in this fashion. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. I can quite understand it must require something surpassingly attractive to excite the admiration of such a great man as you. KING. I will describe her, my dear friend, in a few words, Man's all-wise Maker, wishing to create A faultless form, whose matchless symmetry Should far transcend Creation's choicest works, Did call together by his mighty will, And garner up in his eternal mind, A bright assemblage of all lovely things; And then, as in a picture, fashion them Into one perfect and ideal form-- Such the divine, the wondrous prototype, Whence her fair shape was moulded into being. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. If that's the case, she must indeed throw all other beauties into the shade. KING. To my mind she really does. This peerless maid is like a fragrant flower, Whose perfumed breath has never been diffused; A tender bud, that no profaning hand Has dared to sever from its parent stalk; A gem of priceless water, just released Pure and unblemished from its glittering bed. Or may the maiden haply be compared To sweetest honey, that no mortal lip Has sipped; or, rather, to the mellowed fruit Of virtuous actions in some former birth[37], Now brought to full perfection? Lives the man Whom bounteous heaven has destined to espouse her? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Make haste, then, to her aid; you have no time to lose, if you don't wish this fruit of all the virtues to drop into the mouth of some greasy-headed rustic of devout habits. KING. The lady is not her own mistress, and her foster-father is not at home. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Well, but tell me, did she look at all kindly upon you? KING. Maidens brought up in a hermitage are naturally shy and reserved; but for all that She did look towards me, though she quick withdrew Her stealthy glances when she met my gaze; She smiled upon me sweetly, but disguised With maiden grace the secret of her smiles. Coy love was half unveiled; then, sudden checked By modesty, left half to be divined. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Why, of course, my dear friend, you never could seriously expect that at the very first sight she would fall over head ears in love with you, and without more ado come and sit in your lap. KING. When we parted from each other, she betrayed her liking for me by clearer indications, but still with the utmost modesty. Scarce had the fair one from my presence passed, When, suddenly, without apparent cause, She stopped; and, counterfeiting pain, exclaimed, 'My foot is wounded by this prickly grass,' Then, glancing at me tenderly, she feigned Another charming pretext for delay, Pretending that a bush had caught her robe And turned as if to disentangle it. MÁ[T.]HAVYA I trust you have laid in a good stock of provisions, for I see you intend making this consecrated grove your game-preserve, and will be roaming here in quest of sport for some time to come. KING. You must know, my good fellow, that I have been recognised by some of the inmates of the hermitage. Now I want the assistance of your fertile invention, in devising some excuse for going there again. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. There is but one expedient that I can suggest. You are the King, are you not? KING. What then? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Say you have come for the sixth part of their grain [38], which they owe you for tribute. KING. No, no, foolish man; those hermits pay me a very different kind of tribute, which I value more than heaps of gold or jewels; observe, The tribute which my other subjects bring Must moulder into dust, but holy men Present me with a portion of the fruits Of penitential services and prayers-- A precious and imperishable gift. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. We are fortunate; here is the object of our search. KING. [_Listening_. Surely those must be the voices of hermits, to judge by their deep tones. WARDER. [_Entering_. Victory to the King! two young hermits are in waiting outside, and solicit an audience of your Majesty. KING. Introduce them Immediately. WARDER. I will, my liege. [_Goes out, and re-enters with_ TWO YOUNG HERMITS.] This way, Sirs, this way. [_Both the_ HERMITS _look at the KING. FIRST HERMIT. How majestic is his mien, and yet what confidence it inspires! But this might be expected in a king, whose character and habits have earned for him a title only one degree removed from that of a Sage [39]. In this secluded grove, whose sacred joys All may participate, he deigns to dwell Like one of us; and daily treasures up A store of purest merit for himself, By the protection of our holy rites. In his own person wondrously are joined Both majesty and saintlike holiness; And often chanted by inspired bards [40], His hallowed title of 'Imperial Sage' Ascends in joyous accents to the skies. SECOND HERMIT. Bear in mind, Gautama, that this is the great Dushyanta, the friend of Indra. FIRST HERMIT. What of that? SECOND HERMIT. Where is the wonder if his nervous arm, Puissant and massive as the iron bar That binds a castle-gateway, singly sways The sceptre of the universal earth, E'en to its dark-green boundary of waters? Or if the gods, beholden to his aid In their fierce warfare with the powers of hell [41], Should blend his name with Indra's in their songs Of victory, and gratefully accord No lower meed of praise to his braced bow, Than to the thunders of the god of heaven? BOTH THE HERMITS. [_Approaching_. Victory to the King! KING. [_Rising from his seat_. Hail to you both! BOTH THE HERMITS. Heaven bless your Majesty! [_They offer fruits_. KING. [_Respectfully receiving the offering_. Tell me, I pray you, the object of your visit. BOTH THE HERMITS. The inhabitants of the hermitage, having heard of your Majesty's sojourn in our neighbourhood, make this humble petition:-- KING. What are their commands? BOTH THE HERMITS. In the absence of our Superior, the great sage Kanwa, evil demons are disturbing our sacrificial rites [42]. Deign, therefore, accompanied by your charioteer, to take up your abode in our hermitage for a few days. KING. I am honoured by your invitation. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. Most opportune and convenient, certainly! KING. [_Smiling_. Ho, there, Raivatika! Tell the charioteer from me to bring round the chariot with my bow. WARDER. I will, Sire. [_Exit_. BOTH THE HERMITS. [_Joyfully_. Well it becomes the King by acts of grace To emulate the virtues of his race. Such acts thy lofty destiny attest; Thy mission is to succour the distressed. KING. [_Bowing to the_ HERMITS. Go first, reverend Sirs, I will follow you immediately. BOTH THE HERMITS. May victory attend you! [_Exeunt_. KING. My dear Má[T.]Havya, are not you full of longing to see [S']akoontalá? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. To tell you the truth, though I was just now brimful of desire to see her, I have not a drop left since this piece of news about the demons. KING. Never fear; you shall keep close to me for protection. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Well, you must be my guardian-angel, and act the part of a very Vishnu [43] to me. WARDER. [_Entering_. Sire, the chariot is ready, and only waits to conduct you to victory. But here is a messenger named Karabhaka, just arrived from your capital, with a message from the Queen, your mother. KING. [_Respectfully_. How say you? a messenger from the venerable Queen? WARDER. Even so. KING. Introduce him at once. WARDER. I will, Sire. [_Goes out and re-enters with_ KARABHAKA.] Behold the King. Approach. KARABHAKA. Victory to the King! The Queen-mother bids me say that in four days from the present time she intends celebrating a solemn ceremony for the advancement and preservation of her son. She expects that your Majesty will honour her with your presence on that occasion. KING. This places me in a dilemma. Here, on the one hand, is the commission of these holy men to be executed; and, on the other, the command of my revered parent to be obeyed. Both duties are too sacred to be neglected. What is to be done? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. You will have to take up an intermediate position between the two, like King Tri[s']anku [44], who was suspended between heaven and earth, because the sage Vi[s']wámitra commanded him to mount up to heaven, and the gods ordered him down again. KING. I am certainly very much perplexed. For here, Two different duties are required of me In widely distant places; how can I In my own person satisfy them both? Thus is my mind distracted, and impelled In opposite directions like a stream That, driven back by rocks, still rushes on, Forming two currents in its eddying course. [_Reflecting_.] Friend Má[T.]Havya, as you were my playfellow in childhood, the Queen has already received you like a second son; go you, then, back to her, and tell her of my solemn engagement to assist these holy men. You can supply my place in the ceremony, and act the part of a son to the Queen. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. With the greatest pleasure in the world; but don't suppose that I am really coward enough to have the slightest fear of those trumpery demons. KING. Oh! of course not; a great Bráhman like you could not possibly give way to such weakness. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. You must let me travel in a manner suitable to the King's younger brother. KING. Yes, I shall send my retinue with you, that there may be no farther disturbance in this sacred forest. MÁ[T.]HAVYA, [_With a strut_. Already I feel quite like a young prince. KING. [_Aside_. This is a giddy fellow, and in all probability he will let out the truth about my present pursuit to the women of the palace. What is to be done? I must say something to deceive him. [_Aloud to_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _taking him by the hand_.] Dear friend, I am going to the hermitage wholly and solely out of respect for its pious inhabitants, and not because I have really any liking for [S']akoontalá, the hermit's daughter. Observe:-- What suitable communion could there be Between a monarch and a rustic girl? I did but feign an idle passion, friend, Take not in earnest what was said in jest. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Don't distress yourself; I quite understand. [_Exeunt_. * * * * * PRELUDE TO ACT III. SCENE.--_The Hermitage_. _Enter a_ YOUNG BRÁHMAN _carrying bundles of ku[S']a-grass for the use of the sacrificing priest_. YOUNG BRÁHMAN. How wonderful is the power of King Dushyanta! No sooner did he enter our hermitage, than we were able to proceed with our sacrificial rites, unmolested by the evil demons. No need to fix the arrow to the bow; The mighty monarch sounds the quivering string, And, by the thunder of his arms dismayed, Our demon foes are scattered to the wind. I must now, therefore, make haste and deliver to the sacrificing priests these bundles of Ku[s']a-grass, to be strewn round the altar. [_Walking and looking about; then addressing some one off the stage_.] Why, Priyamvadá, for whose use are you carrying that ointment of Usíra-root and those lotus-leaves with fibres attached to them? [_Listening for her answer_.] What Say you?--that [S']akoontalá is suffering from fever produced by exposure to the sun, and that this ointment is to cool her burning frame? Nurse her with care, then, Priyamvadá, for she is cherished by our reverend Superior as the very breath of his nostrils[46]. I, for my part, will contrive that soothing waters, hallowed in the sacrifice, he administered to her by the hands of Gautamí. [_Exit_. ACT III. SCENE.--_The Sacred Grove_. _Enter_ KING DUSHYANTA, _with the air of one in love_. KING. [_Sighing thoughtfully_. The holy sage possesses magic power In virtue of his penance; she, his ward, Under the shadow of his tutelage, Rests in security, I know it well; Yet sooner shall the rushing cataract In foaming eddies re-ascend the steep, Than my fond heart turn back from its pursuit. God of love! God of the flowery shafts [47]! we lovers are cruelly deceived by thee, and by the Moon, however deserving of confidence you may both appear. For not to us do these thine arrows seem Pointed with tender flowerets; not to us Doth the pale Moon irradiate the earth With beams of silver fraught with cooling dews; But on our fevered frames the moon-beams fall Like darts of fire, and every flower-tipt shaft Of Káma[47], as it probes our throbbing hearts, Seems to be barbed with hardest adamant. Adorable god of love! hast thou no pity for me? [_In a tone of anguish_.] How can thy arrows be so sharp when they are pointed with flowers? Ah! I know the reason: E'en now in thine unbodied essence lurks The fire of [S']iva's anger[48], like the flame That ever hidden in the secret depths Of ocean, smoulders there unseen[49]. How else Could'st thou, all immaterial as thou art, Inflame our hearts thus fiercely?--thou, whose form Was scorched to ashes by a sudden flash From the offended god's terrific eye. Yet, methinks, Welcome this anguish, welcome to my heart These rankling wounds inflicted by the god, Who on his scutcheon bears the monster-fish[50] Slain by his prowess; welcome death itself, So that, commissioned by the lord of love, This fair one be my executioner. Adorable divinity! Can I by no reproaches excite your commiseration? Have I not daily offered at thy shrine Innumerable vows, the only food Of thine ethereal essence? Are my prayers Thus to be slighted? Is it meet that thou Should'st aim thy shafts at thy true votary's heart, Drawing thy bow-string even to thy ear? [_Pacing up and down in a melancholy manner_.] Now that the holy men have completed their rites, and have no more need of my services, how shall I dispel my melancholy? [_Sighing_.] I have but one resource. Oh for another sight of the Idol of my soul! I will seek her. [_Glancing at the sun_.] In all probability, as the sun's heat is now at its height, [S']akoontalá is passing her time under the shade of the bowers on the banks of the Máliní, attended by her maidens. I will go and look for her there. [_Walking and looking about_.] I suspect the fair one has but just passed by this avenue of young trees. Here, as she tripped along, her fingers plucked The opening buds; these lacerated plants, Shorn of their fairest blossoms by her hand, Seem like dismembered trunks, whose recent wounds Are still unclosed; while from the bleeding socket Of many a severed stalk, the milky juice Still slowly trickles, and betrays her path. [_Feeling a breeze_.] What a delicious breeze meets me in this spot! Here may the zephyr, fragrant with the scent Of lotuses, and laden with the spray Caught from the waters of the rippling stream, Fold in its close embrace my fevered limbs. [_Walking and looking about_.] She must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of this arbour of overhanging creepers enclosed by plantations of cane; [_Looking down_.] For at the entrance here I plainly see A line of footsteps printed in the sand. Here are the fresh impressions of her feet; Their well-known outline faintly marked in front, More deeply towards the heel; betokening The graceful undulation of her gait[51]. I will peep through those branches. [_Walking and looking. With transport_.] Ah! now my eyes are gratified by an entrancing sight. Yonder is the beloved of my heart reclining on a rock strewn with flowers, and attended by her two friends. How fortunate! Concealed behind the leaves, I will listen to their conversation, without raising their suspicions. [_Stands concealed, and gazes at them_. [S']AKOONTALÁ _and her two attendants, holding fans in their hands, are discovered as described_. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Fanning her. In a tone of affection_. Dearest [S']akoontalá, is the breeze raised by these broad lotus-leaves refreshing to you? [S']AKOONTALÁ. Dear friends, why should you trouble yourselves to fan me? [PRIYAMVADÁ _and_ ANASÚYÁ _look sorrowfully at one another_. KING. [S']akoontalá seems indeed to be seriously ill. [_Thoughtfully_.] Can it be the intensity of the heat that has affected her? or does my heart suggest the true cause of her malady? [_Gazing at her passionately_.] Why should I doubt it? The maiden's spotless bosom is o'erspread With cooling balsam; on her slender arm Her only bracelet, twined with lotus-stalks, Hangs loose and withered; her recumbent form Betokens languor. Ne'er could noon-day sun Inflict such fair disorder on a maid-- No, love, and love alone, is here to blame. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aside to_ ANASÚYÁ. I have observed, Anasúyá, that [S']akoontalá has been indisposed ever since her first interview with King Dushyanta. Depend upon it, her ailment is to be traced to that source. ANASÚYÁ. The same suspicion, dear, has crossed my mind. But I will at once ask her and ascertain the truth. [_Aloud_.] Dear [S']akoontalá, I am about to put a question to you. Your indisposition is really very serious. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Half rising from her couch_. What were you going to ask? ANASÚYÁ. We know very little about love-matters, dear [S']akoontalá; but for all that, I cannot help suspecting your present state to be something similar to that of the lovers we have heard about in romances. Tell us frankly what is the cause of your disorder. It is useless to apply a remedy, until the disease be understood. KING. Anasúyá bears me out in my suspicion. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. I am, indeed, deeply in love; but cannot rashly disclose my passion to these young girls. PRIYAMVADÁ. What Anasúyá says, dear [S']akoontalá, is very just. Why give so little heed to your ailment? Every day you are becoming thinner; though I must confess your complexion is still as beautiful as ever. KING. Priyamvadá speaks most truly. Sunk is her velvet cheek; her wasted bosom Loses its fulness; e'en her slender waist Grows more attenuate; her face is wan, Her shoulders droop;--as when the vernal blasts Sear the young blossoms of the Mádhaví[52], Blighting their bloom; so mournful is the change. Yet in its sadness, fascinating still, Inflicted by the mighty lord of love On the fair figure of the hermit's daughter. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Dear friends, to no one would I rather reveal the nature of my malady than to you; but I should only be troubling you. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Nay, this is the very point about which we are so solicitous. Sorrow shared with affectionate friends is relieved of half its poignancy. KING. Pressed by the partners of her joys and griefs, Her much beloved companions, to reveal The cherished secret locked within her breast, She needs must utter it; although her looks Encourage me to hope, my bosom throbs As anxiously I listen for her answer. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Know then, dear friends, that from the first moment the illustrious Prince who is the guardian of our sacred grove presented himself to my sight-- [_Stops short, and appears confused_. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Say on, dear [S']akoontalá, say on. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Ever since that happy moment, my heart's affections have been fixed upon him, and my energies of mind and body have all deserted me, as you see. KING. [_With rapture_. Her own lips have uttered the words I most longed to hear. Love lit the flame, and Love himself allays My burning fever, as when gathering clouds Rise o'er the earth in summer's dazzling noon, And grateful showers dispel the morning heat. [S']AKOONTALÁ. You must consent, then, dear friends, to contrive some means by which I may find favour with the King, or you will have ere long to assist at my funeral. KING. Enough! These words remove all my doubts. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aside to_ ANASÚYÁ. She is far gone in love, dear Anasúyá, and no time ought to be lost. Since she has fixed her affections on a monarch who is the ornament of Puru's line, we need not hesitate for a moment to express our approval. ANASÚYÁ. I quite agree with you. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Aloud_. We wish you joy, dear [S']akoontalá. Your affections are fixed on an object in every respect worthy of you,. The noblest river will unite itself to the ocean, and the lovely Mádhaví-creeper clings naturally to the Mango, the only tree capable of supporting it. KING. Why need we wonder if the beautiful constellation Vi[s']ákhá pines to be united with the Moon[53]? ANASÚYÁ. By what stratagem can we best secure to our friend the accomplishment of her heart's desire both speedily and secretly? PRIYAMVADÁ. The latter point is all we have to think about. As to 'speedily,' I look upon the whole affair as already settled. ANASÚYÁ. How so? PRIYAMVADÁ. Did you not observe how the King betrayed his liking by the tender manner in which he gazed upon her, and how thin he has become the last few days, as if he had been lying awake thinking of her? KING. [_Looking at himself_. Quite true! I certainly am becoming thin from want of sleep: As night by night in anxious thought I raise This wasted arm to rest my sleepless head, My jewelled bracelet, sullied by the tears That trickle from my eyes in scalding streams, Slips towards my elbow from my shrivelled wrist. Oft I replace the bauble, but in vain; So easily it spans the fleshless limb That e'en the rough and corrugated skin, Scarred by the bow-string, will not check its fall[54]. PRIYAMVADÁ. An idea strikes me, Anasúyá. Let [S']akoontalá write a love-letter; I will conceal it in a flower, and contrive to drop it in the King's path. He will surely mistake it for the remains of some sacred offering, and will, in all probability, pick it up. ANASÚYÁ. A very ingenious device! It my entire approval; but what says [S']akoontalá? [S']AKOONTALÁ. I must consider before I can consent to it. PRIYAMVADÁ. Could, you not, dear [S']akoontalá, think of some pretty composition in verse, containing a delicate declaration of your love? [S']AKOONTALÁ. Well, I will do my best; but my heart trembles when I think of the chances of a refusal. KING. [_With rapture_. Too timid maid, here stands the man from whom Thou fearest a repulse; supremely blessed To call thee all his own. Well might he doubt His title to thy love; but how could'st thou Believe thy beauty powerless to subdue him? PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. You undervalue your own merits, dear [S']akoontalá. What man in his senses would intercept with the skirt of his robe the bright rays of the autumnal moon, which alone can allay the fever of his body? [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Smiling_. Then it seems I must do as I am bid. [_Sits down and appears to be thinking_. KING. How charming she looks! My very eyes forget to wink, jealous of losing even for an instant a sight so enchanting. How beautiful the movement of her brow, As through her mind love's tender fancies flow! And, as she weighs her thoughts, how sweet to trace The ardent passion mantling in her face! [S']AKOONTALÁ. Dear girls, I have thought of a verse, but I have no writing-materials at hand. PRIYAMVADÁ. Write the letters with your nail on this lotus-leaf, which is smooth as a parrot's breast. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_After writing the verse_. Listen, dear friends, and tell me whether the ideas are appropriately expressed. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. We are all attention. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Reads_. I know not the secret thy bosom conceals, Thy form is not near me to gladden my sight; But sad is the tale that my fever reveals, Of the love that consumes me by day and by night. KING. [_Advancing hastily towards her_. Nay, Love does but warm thee, fair maiden,--thy frame Only droops like the bud in the glare of the noon; But me he consumes with a pitiless flame, As the beams of the day-star destroy the pale moon. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Looking at him joyfully and rising to salute him_. Welcome, the desire of our hearts, that so speedily presents itself! [[S']AKOONTALÁ _makes an effort to rise_. KING. Nay, trouble not thyself, dear maiden. Move not to do me homage; let thy limbs Still softly rest upon their flowery couch; And gather fragrance from the lotus-stalks, Bruised by the fevered contact of thy frame. ANASÚYÁ. Deign, gentle Sir, to seat yourself on the rock on which our friend is reposing. [_The_ KING _sits down_. [S']AKOONTALÁ _is confused_. PRIYAMVADÁ. Any one may see at a glance that you are deeply attached to each other. But the affection I have for my friend prompts me to say something of which you hardly require to be informed. KING. Do not hesitate to speak out, my good girl. If you omit to say what is in your mind, you may be sorry for it afterwards. PRIYAMVADÁ. Is it not your special office as a King to remove the suffering of your subjects who are in trouble? KING. Such is my duty, most assuredly. PRIYAMVADÁ. Know, then, that our dear friend has been brought to her present state of suffering entirely through love for you. Her life is in your hands; take pity on her and restore her to health. KING. Excellent maiden, our attachment is mutual. It is I who am the most honoured by it. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Looking at PRIYAMVADÁ_. What do you mean by detaining the King, who must be anxious to return to his royal consorts after so long a separation? KING. Sweet maiden, banish from thy mind the thought That I could love another. Thou dost reign Supreme, without a rival, in my heart, And I am thine alone; disown me not, Else must I die a second deadlier death, Killed by thy words, as erst by Káma's[47] shafts. ANASÚYÁ. Kind Sir, we have heard it said that kings have many favourite consorts. You must not, then, by your behaviour towards our dear friend, give her relations cause to sorrow for her. KING. Listen, gentle maiden, while in a few words I quiet your anxiety. Though many beauteous forms my palace grace, Henceforth two things alone will I esteem The glory of my royal dynasty-- My sea-girt realm, and this most lovely maid. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. We are satisfied by your assurances. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Glancing on one side_. See, Anasúyá, there is our favourite little fawn running about in great distress, and turning its eyes in every direction as if looking for its mother; come, let us help the little thing to find her. [_Both move away_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Dear friends, dear friends, leave me not alone and unprotected. Why need you both go? PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Unprotected! when the Protector of the world is at your side. [_Exeunt_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. What! have they both really left me? KING. Distress not thyself, sweet maiden. Thy adorer is at hand to wait upon thee. Oh let me tend thee, fair one, in the place Of thy dear friends; and with broad lotus fans Raise cooling breezes to refresh thy frame; Or shall I rather, with caressing touch, Allay the fever of thy limbs, and soothe Thy aching feet, beauteous as blushing lilies? [S']AKOONTALÁ. Nay, touch me not. I will not incur the censure of those whom I am bound to respect. [_Rises and attempts to go_. KING. Fair one, the heat of noon has not yet subsided, and thy body is still feeble. How canst thou quit thy fragrant couch of flowers, And from thy throbbing bosom cast aside Its covering of lotus-leaves, to brave With weak and fainting limbs the noon-day heat? [_Forces her to turn back_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Infringe not the rules of decorum, mighty descendant of Puru. Remember, though I love you, I have no power to dispose of myself. KING. Why this fear of offending your relations, timid maid? When your venerable foster-father hears of it, he will not find fault with you. He knows that the law permits us to be united without consulting him. In Indra's heaven, so at least 'tis said, No nuptial rites prevail[55], nor is the bride Led to the altar by her future lord; But all in secret does the bridegroom plight His troth, and each unto the other vow Mutual allegiance. Such espousals, too, Are authorised on earth, and many daughters Of royal saints thus wedded to their lords Have still received their father's benison. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Leave me, leave me; I must take counsel with my female friends. KING. I will leave thee when-- [S']AKOONTALÁ. When? KING. When I have gently stolen from thy lips Their yet untasted nectar, to allay The raging of my thirst, e'en as the bee Sips the fresh honey from the opening bud. [_Attempts to raise her face_. [S']AKOONTALÁ tries to prevent him_. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. The loving birds, doomed by fate to nightly separation[56], must bid farewell to each other, for evening is at hand. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_In confusion_. Great Prince, I hear the voice of the matron Gautamí. She is coming this way to inquire after my health. Hasten and conceal yourself behind the branches. KING. I will. [_Conceals himself_. _Enter_ GAUTAMÍ _with a vase in her hand, preceded by two attendants_. ATTENDANTS. This way, most venerable Gautamí. GAUTAMÍ. [_Approaching_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. My child, is the fever of thy limbs allayed? [S']AKOONTALÁ. Venerable mother, there is certainly a change for the better. GAUTAMÍ. Let me sprinkle you with this holy water, and all your ailments will depart. [_Sprinkling_ [S']AKOONTALÁ on the head_.] The day is closing, my child; come, let us go to the cottage. [_They all move away_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. Oh my heart! thou didst fear to taste of happiness when it was within thy reach. Now that the object of thy desires is torn from thee, how bitter will be thy remorse, how distracting thine anguish! [_Moving on a few steps and stopping. Aloud_.] Farewell! bower of creepers, sweet soother of my sufferings, farewell! may I soon again be happy under thy shade. [_Exit reluctantly with the others_. KING. [_Returning to his former seat in the arbour. Sighing_. Alas! how many are the obstacles to the accomplishment of our wishes! Albeit she did coyly turn away Her glowing cheek, and with her fingers guard Her pouting lips, that murmured a denial In faltering accents, she did yield herself A sweet reluctant captive to my will. As eagerly I raised her lovely face; But ere with gentle force I stole the kiss, Too envious Fate did mar my daring purpose. Whither now shall I betake myself? I will tarry for a brief space in this bower of creepers, so endeared to me by the presence of my beloved [S']akoontalá. [_Looking round_. Here printed on the flowery couch I see The fair impression of her slender limbs; Here is the sweet confession of her love, Traced with her nail upon the lotus-leaf; And yonder are the withered lily-stalks That graced her wrist. While all around I view Things that recall her image, can I quit This bower, e'en though its living be fled? A VOICE IN THE AIR. Great King, Scarce is our evening sacrifice begun, When evil demons, lurid as the clouds That gather round the dying orb of day, Cluster in hideous troops, obscene and dread, About our altars, casting far and near Terrific shadows, while the sacred fire Sheds a pale lustre o'er their ghostly shapes. KING. I come to the rescue, I come. [_Exit_. * * * * * PRELUDE TO ACT IV. SCENE.--_The Garden of the Hermitage_. _Enter_ PRIYAMVADÁ and ANASÚYÁ in the act of gathering flowers_. ANASÚYÁ. Although, dear Priyamvadá, it rejoices my heart to think that [S']akoontalá has been happily united to a husband in every respect worthy of her, by the form of marriage prevalent among Indra's celestial musicians, nevertheless, I cannot help feeling somewhat uneasy in my mind. PRIYAMVADÁ. How so? ANASÚYÁ. You know that the pious King was gratefully dismissed by the hermits on the successful termination of their sacrificial rites. He has now returned to his capital, leaving [S']akoontalá under our care; and it may be doubted whether, in the society of his royal consorts, he will not forget all that has taken place in this hermitage of ours. PRIYAMVADÁ. On that score be at ease. Persons of his noble nature are not so destitute of all honourable feeling. I confess, however, that there is one point about which I am rather anxious. What, think you, will Father Kanwa say when he hears what has occurred? ANASÚYÁ. In my opinion, he will approve the marriage. PRIYAMVADÁ. What makes you think so? ANASÚYÁ. From the first, it was always his fixed purpose to bestow the maiden on a husband worthy of her; and since heaven has given her such a husband, his wishes have been realized without any trouble to himself. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Looking at the flower-basket_. We have gathered flowers enough for the sacred offering, dear Anasúyá. ANASÚYÁ. Well, then, let us now gather more, that we may have wherewith to propitiate the guardian-deity of our dear [S']akoontalá. PRIYAMVADÁ. By all means. [_They continue gathering_. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Ho there! See you not that I am here! ANASÚYÁ. That must be the voice of a guest announcing his arrival. PRIYAMVADÁ. Surely, [S']akoontalá is not absent from the cottage. [_Aside_.] Her heart at least is absent, I fear. ANASÚYÁ. Come along, come along; we have gathered flowers enough. [_They move away_. THE SAME VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Woe to thee, maiden, for daring to slight a guest like me! Shall I stand here unwelcomed--even I, A very mine of penitential merit, Worthy of all respect? Shalt thou, rash maid, Thus set at nought the ever sacred ties Of hospitality? and fix thy thoughts Upon the cherished object of thy love, While I am present? Thus I curse thee, then-- He, even he of whom thou thinkest, he Shall think no more of thee; nor in his heart Retain thine image. Vainly shalt thou strive To waken his remembrance of the past; He shall disown thee, even as the sot, Roused from his midnight drunkenness, denies The words he uttered in his revellings. PRIYAMVADÁ. Alas! alas! I fear a terrible misfortune has occurred. [S']akoontalá, from absence of mind, must have offended some guest whom she was bound to treat with respect. [_Looking behind the scenes_.] Ah! yes; I see; and no less a person than the great sage Durvásas[57], who is known to be most irascible. He it is that has just cursed her, and is now retiring with hasty strides, trembling with passion, and looking as if nothing could turn him. His wrath is like a consuming fire. ANASÚYÁ. Go quickly, dear Priyamvadá, throw yourself at his feet, and persuade him to come back, while I prepare a propitiatory offering[59] for him, with water and refreshments. PRIYAMVADÁ. I will. [_Exit_. ANASÚYÁ. [_Advancing hastily a few steps and stumbling_. Alas! alas! this comes of being in a hurry. My foot has slipped, and my basket of flowers has fallen from my hand. [_Stays to gather them up_. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Re-entering_ Well, dear Anasúyá, I have done my best; but what living being could succeed in pacifying such a cross-grained, ill-tempered old fellow? However, I managed to mollify him a little. ANASÚYÁ [_Smiling_. Even a little was much for him. Say on. PRIYAMVADÁ. When he refused to turn back, I implored his forgiveness in these words: 'Most venerable sage, pardon, I beseech you, this first offence of a young and inexperienced girl, who was ignorant of the respect due to your saintly character and exalted rank.' ANASÚYÁ And what did he reply? PRIYAMVADÁ. 'My word must not be falsified; but, at the sight of the ring of recognition the spell shall cease.' So saying, he disappeared. ANASÚYÁ. Oh! then we may breathe again; for, now I think of it, the King himself, at his departure, fastened on [S']akoontalá's finger, as a token of remembrance, a ring on which his own name was engraved. She has, therefore, a remedy for her misfortune at her own command. PRIYAMVADÁ. Come, dear Anasúyá, let us proceed with our religious duties. [_They walk round_. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Looking off the stage_. See, Anasúyá, there sits our dear friend, motionless as a statue, resting her face on her left hand, her whole mind absorbed in thinking of her absent husband. She can pay no attention to herself, much less to a stranger. ANASÚYÁ. Priyamvadá, let this affair never pass our lips. We must spare our dear friend's feelings. Her constitution is too delicate to bear much emotion. PRIYAMVADÁ. I agree with you. Who would think of watering a tender jasmine with hot water? ACT IV. Scene.--_The Neighbourhood of the Hermitage. Enter one of_ Kanwa's Pupils _just arisen from his couch at the dawn of day_. PUPIL. My master, the venerable Kanwa, who is but lately returned from his pilgrimage, has ordered me to ascertain how the time goes. I have therefore come into the open air to see if it be still dark. [_Walking and looking about_.] Oh! the dawn has already broken. Lo! in one quarter of the sky, the Moon, Lord of the herbs and night-expanding flowers, Sinks towards his bed behind the western hills; While in the east, preceded by the Dawn, His blushing charioteer[59], the glorious Sun Begins his course, and far into the gloom Casts the first radiance of his orient beams. Hail! co-eternal orbs, that rise to set, And set to rise again; symbols divine Of man's reverses, life's vicissitudes. And now, While the round Moon withdraws his looming disc Beneath the western sky, the full-blown flower Of the night-loving lotus[60] sheds her leave In sorrow for his loss, bequeathing nought But the sweet memory of her loveliness To my bereaved sight; e'en as the bride Disconsolately mourns her absent lord, And yields her heart a prey to anxious grief. ANASÚYÁ. [_Entering abruptly_. Little as I know of the ways of the world, I cannot help thinking that King Dushyanta is treating [S']akoontalá very improperly. PUPIL. Well, I must let my revered preceptor know that it is time to offer the burnt oblation. [_Exit_. ANASÚYÁ. I am broad awake, but what shall I do? I have no energy to go about my usual occupations. My hands and feet seem to have lost their power. Well, Love has gained his object; and Love only is to blame for having induced our dear friend, in the innocence of her heart, to confide in such a perfidious man. Possibly, however, the imprecation of Durvásas may he already taking effect. Indeed, I cannot otherwise account for the King's strange conduct, in allowing so long a time to elapse without even a letter; and that, too, after so many promises and protestations. I cannot think what to do unless we send him the ring which was to be the token of recognition. But which of these austere hermits could we ask to be the bearer of it? Then, again, Father Kanwa has just returned from his pilgrimage; and how am I to inform him of [S']akoontalá's marriage to King Dushyanta, and her expectation of becoming soon a mother? I never could bring myself to tell him, even if I felt that [S']akoontalá had been in fault, which she certainly has not. What is to be done? PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Entering; joyfully_. Quick! quick! Anasúyá! come and assist in the joyful preparations for [S']akoontalá's departure to her husband's palace. ANASÚYÁ. My dear girl, what can you mean? PRIYAMVADÁ. Listen, now, and I will tell you all about it. I went just now to [S']akoontalá, to inquire whether she had slept comfortably-- ANASÚYÁ. Well, well; go on. PRIYAMVADÁ. She was sitting with her face bowed down to the very ground with shame, when Father Kanwa entered, and, embracing her, of his own accord offered her his congratulations. 'I give thee joy, my child,' he said, 'we have had an auspicious omen. The priest who offered the oblation dropped it into the very centre of the sacred fire [81], though thick smoke obstructed his vision. Henceforth thou wilt cease to be an object of compassion. This very day I purpose sending thee, under the charge of certain trusty hermits, to the King's palace; and shall deliver thee into the hands of thy husband, as I would commit knowledge to the keeping of a wise and faithful student.' ANASÚYÁ. Who, then, informed the holy father of what passed in his absence? PRIYAMVADÁ. As he was entering the sanctuary of the consecrated fire, an invisible being chanted a verse in celestial strains. ANASÚYÁ. [_With astonishment_. Indeed! pray repeat it. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Repeating the verse_. Glows in thy daughter King Dushyanta's glory, As in the sacred tree the mystic fire [62]; Let worlds rejoice to hear the welcome story, And may the son immortalize the sire. ANASÚYÁ. [_Embracing_ PRIYAMVADÁ. Oh, my dear Priyamvadá, what delightful news! I am pleased beyond measure; yet when I think that we are to lose our dear [S']akoontalá this very day, a feeling of melancholy mingles with my joy. PRIYAMVADÁ. We shall find means of consoling ourselves after her departure. Let the dear creature only be made happy at any cost. ANASÚYÁ. Yes, yes, Priyamvadá, it shall be so; and now to prepare the bridal array. I have always looked forward to this occasion, and some time since, I deposited a beautiful garland of Ke[S']ara flowers in a cocoa-nut box, and suspended it on a bough of yonder mango-tree. Be good enough to stretch out your hand and take it down, while I compound unguents and perfumes with this consecrated paste and these blades of sacred grass. PRIYAMVADÁ. Very well. [_Exit_ ANASÚYÁ. PRIYAMVADÁ _takes down the flowers_. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Gautamí, bid [S']árngarava and the others hold themselves in readiness to escort [S']akoontalá. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Listening_. Quick, quick, Anasúyá! They are calling the hermits who are to go with [S']akoontalá to Hastinápur[83]. ANASÚYÁ. [_Re-entering with the perfumed unguents in her hand_. Come along then, Priyamvadá; I am ready to go with you. [_They walk away_. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Looking_. See! there sits [S']akoontalá, her locks arranged even at this early hour of the morning. The holy women of the hermitage are congratulating her, and invoking blessings on her head, while they present her with wedding-gifts and offerings of consecrated wild-rice. Let us join them. [_They approach_. [S']AKOONTALÁ _is seen seated, with women surrounding her, occupied in the manner described_. FIRST WOMAN. [_To_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. My child, may'st thou receive the title of 'Chief-queen,' and may thy husband delight to honour thee above all others! SECOND WOMAN. My child, may'st thou be the mother of a hero! THIRD WOMAN. My child, may'st thou be highly honoured by thy lord! [_Exeunt all the women, excepting_ GAUTAMÍ, after blessing_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Approaching_. Dear [S']akoontalá, we are come to assist you at your toilet, and may a blessing attend it! [S']AKOONTALÁ. Welcome, dear friends, welcome. Sit down here. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Taking the baskets containing the bridal decorations, and sitting down_. Now, then, dearest, prepare to let us dress you. We must first rub your limbs with these perfumed unguents. [S']AKOONTALÁ. I ought indeed to be grateful for your kind offices, now that I am so soon to be deprived of them. Dear, dear friends, perhaps I shall never be dressed by you again. [_Bursts into tears_. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Weep not, dearest; tears are out of season on such a happy occasion. [_They wipe away her tears and begin to dress her_. PRIYAMVADÁ. Alas! these simple flowers and rude ornaments, which our hermitage offers in abundance, do not set off your beauty as it deserves. _Enter TWO YOUNG HERMITS, bearing costly presents_. BOTH HERMITS. Here are ornaments suitable for a queen. [_The women look at them in astonishment_. GAUTAMÍ Why, Nárada, my son, whence came these? FIRST HERMIT. You owe them to the devotion of Father Kanwa. GAUTAMÍ. Did he create them by the power of his own mind? SECOND HERMIT. Certainly not; but you shall hear. The venerable sage ordered us to collect flowers for [S']akoontalá from the forest-trees; and we went to the wood for that purpose, when Straightway depending from a neighbouring tree Appeared a robe of linen tissue, pure And spotless as a moonbeam--mystic pledge Of bridal happiness; another tree Distilled a roseate dye wherewith to stain The lady's feet [135]; and other branches near Glistened with rare and costly ornaments. While, 'mid the leaves, the hands of forest-nymphs, Vying in beauty with the opening buds, Presented us with sylvan offerings. PRIYAMVADÁ. [_Looking at_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. The wood-nymphs have done you honour, indeed. This favour doubtless signifies that you are soon to be received as a happy wife into your husband's house, and are from this time forward to become the partner of his royal fortunes. [[S']AKOONTALÁ _appears abashed_. FIRST HERMIT. Come, Gautama; Father Kanwa has finished his ablutions. Let us go and inform him of the favour we have received from the deities who preside over our trees. SECOND HERMIT. By all means. [_Exeunt_. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ Alas! what are we to do? We are unused to such splendid decorations, and are at a loss how to arrange them. Our knowledge of painting must be our guide. We will dispose the ornaments as we have seen them in pictures. [S']AKOONTALÁ Whatever pleases you, dear girls, will please me. I have perfect confidence In your taste. [_They commence dressing her_. _Enter_ KANWA, _having just finished his ablutions_. KANWA. This day my loved one leaves me, and my heart Is heavy with its grief; the streams of sorrow, Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice, I have no words to speak; mine eyes are dimmed By the dark shadows of the thoughts that rise Within my soul. If such the force of grief In an old hermit parted from his nursling, What anguish must the stricken parent feel-- Bereft for ever of an only daughter. [_Advances towards_ [S']AKOONTALÁ PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Now, dearest [S']akoontalá, we have finished decorating you. You have only to put on the two linen mantles. [[S']AKOONTALÁ _rises and puts them on_. GAUTAMÍ. Daughter, see, here comes thy foster-father; he is eager to fold thee in his arms; his eyes swim with tears of joy. Hasten to do him reverence. [S']AKOONTALÁ [_Reverently_. My father, I salute you. KANWA. My daughter, May'st thou be highly honoured by thy lord, E'en as Yayáti [S']armishthá adored[64]! And, as she bore him Puru, so may'st thou Bring forth a son to whom the world shall bow! GAUTAMÍ. Most venerable father, she accepts your benediction as if she already possessed the boon it confers. KANWA. Now come this way, my child, and walk reverently round these sacrificial fires. [_They all walk round_. KANWA. [_Repeats a prayer in the metre of the Rig-veda_. Holy flames, that gleam around Every altar's hallowed ground; Holy flames, whose frequent food Is the consecrated wood, And for whose encircling bed, Sacred Ku[s']a-grass is spread [65]; Holy flames, that waft to heaven Sweet oblations daily given, Mortal guilt to purge away, Hear, oh hear me, when I pray-- Purify my child this day! Now then, my daughter, set out on thy journey. [_Looking on one side_.] Where are thy attendants. [S']árngarava and the others? YOUNG HERMIT. [_Entering_. Here we are, most venerable father. KANWA. Lead the way for thy sister. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Come, [S']akoontalá, let us proceed. [_All move away_. KANWA. Hear me, ye trees that surround our hermitage! [S']akoontalá ne'er moistened in the stream Her own parched lips, till she had fondly poured Its purest water on your thirsty roots; And oft, when she would fain have decked her hair With your thick-clustering blossoms, in her love She robbed you not e'en of a single flower. Her highest joy was ever to behold The early glory of your opening buds; Oh, then, dismiss her with a kind farewell. This very day she quits her father's home, To seek the palace of her wedded lord. [_The note of a Koïl[66] is heard_. Hark! heard'st thou not the answer of the trees, Our sylvan sisters, warbled in the note Of the melodious Koïl[66]? they dismiss Their dear [S']akoontalá with loving wishes. VOICES IN THE AIR. Fare thee well, journey pleasantly on amid streams Where the lotuses bloom, and the sun's glowing beams Never pierce the deep shade of the wide-spreading trees, While gently around thee shall sport the cool breeze; Then light be thy footsteps and easy thy tread, Beneath thee shall carpets of lilies be spread; Journey on to thy lord, let thy spirit be gay, For the smiles of all Nature shall gladden thy way. [_All listen with astonishment_. GAUTAMÍ. Daughter! the nymphs of the wood, who love thee with the affection of a sister, dismiss thee with kind wishes for thy happiness. Take thou leave of them reverentially. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Bowing respectfully and walking on. Aside to her friend_. Eager as I am, dear Priyamvadá, to see my husband once more, yet my feet refuse to move, now that I am quitting for ever the home of my girlhood. PRIYAMVADÁ. You are not the only one, dearest, to feel the bitterness of parting. As the time of separation approaches, the whole grove seems to share your anguish. In sorrow for thy loss, the herd of deer Forget to browse; the peacock on the lawn Ceases its dance[67]; the very trees around Shed their pale leaves, like tears, upon the ground. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Recollecting herself_. My father, let me, before I go, bid adieu to my pet jasmine, the Moonlight of the Grove[68]. I love the plant almost as a sister. KANWA. Yes, yes, my child, I remember thy sisterly affection for the creeper. Here it is on the right. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Approaching the jasmine_. My beloved jasmine! most brilliant of climbing plants, how sweet it is to see thee cling thus fondly to thy husband, the mango-tree; yet, prithee, turn thy twining arms for a moment in this direction to embrace thy sister; she is going far away, and may never see thee again. KANWA. Daughter, the cherished purpose of my heart Has ever been to wed thee to a man That should be worthy of thee; such a spouse Hast thou thyself, by thine own merits, won. To him thou goest, and about his neck Soon shalt thou cling confidingly, as now Thy favourite jasmine twines its loving arms Around the sturdy mango. Leave thou it To its protector--e'en as I consign Thee to thy lord, and henceforth from my mind Banish all anxious thought on thy behalf. Proceed on thy journey, my child. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_To_ PRIYAMVADÁ _and_ ANASÚYÁ. To you, my sweet companions, I leave it as a keepsake. Take charge of it when I am gone. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Bursting into tears_. And to whose charge do you leave us, dearest? Who will care for us when you are gone? KANWA. For shame, Anasúyá! dry your tears. Is this the way to cheer your friend at a time when she needs your support and consolation? [_All move on_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. My father, see you there my pet deer, grazing close to the hermitage? She expects soon to fawn, and even now the weight of the little one she carries hinders her movements. Do not forget to send me word when she becomes a mother. KANWA. I will not forget it. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Feeling herself drawn back_. What can this be, fastened to my dress? [_Turns round_. KANWA. My daughter, It is the little fawn, thy foster-child, Poor helpless orphan! it remembers well How with a mother's tenderness and love Thou didst protect it, and with grains of rice From thine own hand didst daily nourish it; And, ever and anon, when some sharp thorn Had pierced its mouth, how gently thou didst tend The bleeding wound, and pour in healing balm. The grateful nursling clings to its protectress, Mutely imploring leave to follow her. [S']AKOONTALÁ. My poor little fawn! dost thou ask to follow an ungrateful wretch who hesitates not to desert her companions! When thy mother died, soon after thy birth, I supplied her place, and reared thee with my own hand; and now that thy second mother is about to leave thee, who will care for thee? My father, be thou a mother to her. My child, go back, and be a daughter to my father. [_Moves on, weeping_. KANWA. Weep not, my daughter, check the gathering tear That lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flow And weaken thy resolve; be firm and true-- True to thyself and me; the path of life Will lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth, And all must feel the steepness of the way; Though rugged be thy course, press boldly on. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Venerable Sire! the sacred precept is:--'Accompany thy friend as far as the margin of the first stream.' Here, then, we are arrived at the border of a lake. It is time for you to give us your final instructions and return. KANWA. Be it so; let us tarry for a moment under the shade of this fig-tree[69]. [_They do so_. KANWA [_Aside_. I must think of some appropriate message to send to his Majesty King Dushyanta. [_Reflects_. . [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside to_ ANASÚYÁ. See, see, dear Anasúyá, the poor female Chakraváka-bird[70], whom cruel fate dooms to nightly separation from her mate, calls to him in mournful notes from the other side of the stream, though he is only hidden from her view by the spreading leaves of the water-lily. Her cry is so piteous that I could almost fancy she was lamenting her hard lot in intelligible words. ANASÚYÁ Say not so, dearest: Fond bird! though sorrow lengthen out her night Of widowhood, yet with a cry of joy She hails the morning light that brings her mate Back to her side. The agony of parting Would wound us like a sword, but that its edge Is blunted by the hope of future meeting. KANWA. [S']árngarava! when you have introduced [S']akoontalá into the presence of the King, you must give him this message from me:-- [S']ÁRNGARAVA Let me hear it, venerable father. KANWA. This is it:-- Most puissant prince! we here present before thee One thou art bound to cherish and receive As thine own wife; yea, even to enthrone As thine own queen--worthy of equal love With thine imperial consorts. So much, Sire, We claim of thee as justice due to us, In virtue of our holy character, In virtue of thine honourable rank, In virtue of the pure spontaneous love That secretly grew up 'twixt thee and her, Without consent or privity of us. We ask no more--the rest we freely leave To thy just feeling and to destiny. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. A most suitable message! I will take care to deliver it correctly. KANWA. And, now, my child, a few words of advice for thee. We hermits, though we live secluded from the world are not ignorant of worldly matters. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. No, indeed. Wise men are conversant with all subjects. KANWA. Listen, then, my daughter. When thou reachest thy husband's palace, and art admitted into his family, Honour thy betters; ever be respectful To those above thee; and, should others share Thy husband's love, ne'er yield thyself a prey to jealousy; but ever be a friend, A loving friend, to those who rival thee In his affections. Should thy wedded lord Treat thee with harshness, thou most never be Harsh in return, but patient and submissive; Be to thy menials courteous, and to all Placed under thee, considerate and kind; Be never self-indulgent, but avoid Excess in pleasure; and, when fortune smiles, Be not puffed up. Thus to thy husband's house Wilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse. What thinks Gautamí of this advice? GAUTAMÍ. An excellent compendium, truly, of every wife's duties! Lay it well to heart, my daughter. KANWA. Come, my beloved child, one parting embrace for me and for thy companions, and then we leave thee. [S']AKOONTALÁ. My father, must Priyamvadá and Anasúyá really return with you? They are very dear to me. KANWA. Yes, my child; they, too, in good time, will be given in marriage to suitable husbands. It would not be proper for them to accompany thee to such a public place. But Gautamí shall be thy companion. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Embracing him_. Removed from thy bosom, my beloved father, like a young tendril of the sandal-tree torn from its home in the western mountains[71], how shall I be able to support life in a foreign soil? KANWA. Daughter, thy fears are groundless. Soon shall thy lord prefer thee to the rank Of his own consort; and unnumbered cares Befitting his imperial dignity Shall constantly engross thee. Then the bliss Of bearing him a son--a noble boy, Bright as the day-star, shall transport thy soul With new delights, and little shalt thou reck Of the light sorrow that afflicts thee now At parting from thy father and thy friends. [[S']AKOONTALÁ _throws herself at her foster-father's feet_. KANWA. Blessings on thee, my child! May all my hopes of thee be realized! [S']AKOONTALÁ [_Approaching her friends_. Come, my two loved companions, embrace me both of you together. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Embracing her_. Dear [S']akoontalá, remember, if the King should by any chance be slow in recognizing you, you have only to show him this ring, on which his own name is engraved. [S']AKOONTALÁ. The bare thought of it puts me in a tremor. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. There is no real cause for fear, dearest. Excessive affection is too apt to suspect evil where none exists. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Come, lady, we must hasten on. The sun is rising in the heavens. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Looking towards the hermitage_. Dear father, when shall I ever see this hallowed grove again? KANWA. I will tell thee; listen:-- When thou hast passed a long and blissful life As King Dushyanta's queen, and jointly shared With all the earth his ever-watchful care; And hast beheld thine own heroic son, Matchless in arms, united to a bride In happy wedlock; when his aged sire, Thy faithful husband, hath to him resigned The helm of state; then, weary of the world, Together with Dushyanta thou shalt seek The calm seclusion of thy former home[72]; There amid holy scenes to be at peace, Till thy pure spirit gain its last release. GAUTAMÍ. Come, my child, the favourable time for our journey is fast passing. Let thy father return. Venerable Sire, be thou the first to move homewards, or these last words will never end. KANWA. Daughter, detain me no longer. My religious duties must not be interrupted. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Again embracing her foster-father_. Beloved father, thy frame is much enfeebled by penitential exercises. Do not, oh! do not, allow thyself to sorrow too much on my account. KANWA. [_Sighing_. How, O my child, shall my bereaved heart Forget its bitterness, when, day by day, Full in my sight shall grow the tender plants Reared by thy care, or sprang from hallowed grain Which thy loved hands have strewn around the door-- A frequent offering to our household gods[73]? Go, my daughter, and may thy journey be prosperous. [_Exit_ [S']AKOONTALÁ _with her escort_. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. [_Gazing after_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. Alas! alas! she is gone, and now the trees hide our darling from our view. KANWA. [_Sighing_. Well, Anasúyá, your sister has departed. Moderate your grief, both of you, and follow me, I go back to the hermitage. PRIYAMVADÁ AND ANASÚYÁ. Holy father, the sacred grove will be a desert without [S']akoontalá. How can we ever return to it? KANWA. It is natural enough that your affection should make you view it in this light. [_Walking pensively on_.] As for me, I am quite surprised at myself. Now that I have fairly dismissed her to her husband's house, my mind is easy; for, indeed, A daughter is a loan--a precious jewel Lent to a parent till her husband claim her. And now that to her rightful lord and master I have delivered her, my burdened soul Is lightened, and I seem to breathe more freely. [_Exeunt_. * * * * * ACT V. SCENE.--_A Room in the Palace_. _The King_ DUSHYANTA _and the Jester_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA _are discovered seated_. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Listening_. Hark! my dear friend, listen a minute, and you will hear sweet sounds proceeding from the music-room. Some one is singing a charming air. Who can it be? Oh! I know. The queen Hansapadiká is practising her notes, that she may greet you with a new song. KING. Hush! Let me listen. A VOICE SINGS BEHIND THE SCENES. How often hither didst thou rove, Sweet bee, to kiss the mango's cheek; Oh! leave not, then, thy early love, The lily's honeyed lip to seek. KING. A most impassioned strain, truly! MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Do you understand the meaning of the words? KING. [_Smiling_. She means to reprove me, because I once paid her great attention, and have lately deserted her for the queen Vasumatí. Go, my dear fellow, and tell Hansapadiká from me that I take her delicate reproof as it is intended. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Very well. [_Rising from his seat_.] But stay--I don't much relish being sent to bear the brunt of her jealousy. The chances are that she will have me seized by the hair of the head and beaten to a jelly. I would as soon expose myself, after a vow of celibacy, to the seductions of a lovely nymph, as encounter the fury of a jealous woman. KING. Go, go; you can disarm her wrath by a civil speech; but give her my message. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. What must be must be, I suppose. [_Exit_. KING. [_Aside_. Strange! that song has filled me with a most peculiar sensation. A melancholy feeling has come over me, and I seem to yearn after some long-forgotten object of affection. Singular, indeed! but Not seldom In our happy hours of ease, When thought is still, the sight of some fair form, Or mournful fall of music breathing low, Will stir strange fancies, thrilling all the soul With a mysterious sadness, and a sense Of vague yet earnest longing. Can it be That the dim memory of events long past, Or friendships formed in other states of being[74], Flits like a passing shadow o'er the spirit? [_Remains pensive and sad_. _Enter the_ CHAMBERLAIN[75], _named_ VÁTÁYANA. CHAMBERLAIN. Alas! to what an advanced period of life have I attained! Even this wand betrays the lapse of years; In youthful days 'twas but a useless badge And symbol of my office; now it serves As a support to prop my tottering steps. Ah me! I feel very unwilling to announce to the King that a deputation of young hermits from the sage Kanwa has arrived, and craves an immediate audience. Certainly, his Majesty ought not to neglect a matter of sacred duty, yet I hardly like to trouble him when he has just risen from the judgment-seat. Well, well; a monarch's business is to sustain the world, and he must not expect much repose; because-- Onward, for ever onward, in his car The unwearied Sun pursues his daily course, Nor tarries to unyoke his glittering steeds. And, ever moving, speeds the rushing Wind Through boundless space, filling the universe With his life-giving breezes. Day and night, The King of Serpents on his thousand heads[76] Upholds the incumbent earth; and even so, Unceasing toil is aye the lot of kings, Who, in return, draw nurture from their subjects. I will therefore deliver my message. [_Walking on and looking about_.] Ah! here comes the King. His subjects are his children; through the day, Like a fond father, to supply their wants, Incessantly he labours; wearied now, The monarch seeks seclusion and repose; E'en as the prince of elephants defies The sun's fierce heat, and leads the fainting herd To verdant pastures, ere his wayworn limbs He yields to rest beneath the cooling shade. [_Approaching_.] Victory to the King! So please your Majesty, some hermits who live in a forest near the Snowy Mountains have arrived here, bringing certain women with them. They have a message to deliver from the sage Kanwa and desire an audience. I await your Majesty's commands. KING. [_Respectfully_. A message from the sage Kanwa, did you say? CHAMBERLAIN. Even so, my liege. KING. Tell my domestic priest Somaráta to receive the hermits with due honour, according to the prescribed form. He may then himself introduce them into my presence. I will await them in a place suitable for the reception of such holy guests. CHAMBERLAIN. Your Majesty's commands shall be obeyed. [_Exit_. KING. [_Rising and addressing his_ WARDER. Vetravatí, lead the way to the chamber of the consecrated fire[77]. WARDER. This way, Sire. KING. [_Walking on, with the air of one oppressed by the cares of Government_. People are generally contented and happy when they have gained their desires; but kings have no sooner attained the object of their aspirations than all their troubles begin. 'Tis a fond thought that to attain the end And object of ambition is to rest; Success doth only mitigate the fever Of anxious expectation; soon the fear Of losing what we have, the constant care Of guarding it, doth weary. Ceaseless toil Must be the lot of him who with his hands Supports the canopy that shields his subjects. TWO HERALDS[78]. [_Behind the scenes_. May the King be victorious! FIRST HERALD. Honour to him who labours day by day For the world's weal, forgetful of his own; Like some tall tree that with its stately head Endures the solar beam, while underneath It yields refreshing shelter to the weary. SECOND HERALD. Let but the monarch wield his threatening rod And e'en the guilty tremble; at his voice The rebel spirit cowers; his grateful subjects Acknowledge him their guardian; rich and poor Hail him a faithful friend--a loving kinsman. KING. Weary as I was before, this complimentary address has refreshed me. [_Walks on_. WARDER. Here is the terrace of the hallowed fire-chamber, and yonder stands the cow that yields the milk for the oblations. The sacred enclosure has been recently purified, and looks clean and beautiful. Ascend, Sire. KING. [Leans on the shoulders of his attendants and ascends_. Vetravatí, what can possibly be the message that the venerable Kanwa has sent me by these hermits? Perchance their sacred rites have been disturbed By demons, or some evil has befallen The innocent herds, their favourites, that graze Within the precincts of the hermitage, Or haply, through my sins, some withering blight Has nipped the creeping plants that spread their arms Around the hallowed grove. Such troubled thoughts Crowd through my mind, and fill me with misgiving. WARDER. If you ask my opinion, Sire, I think the hermits merely wish to take an opportunity of testifying their loyalty, and are therefore come to offer homage to your majesty. _Enter the_ HERMITS _leading_ [S']AKOONTALÁ, _attended by_ GAUTAMÍ; _and in advance of them, the_ CHAMBERLAIN _and the_ DOMESTIC PRIEST. CHAMBERLAIN. This way, reverend Sirs, this way. [S']ÁRNGARAVA O [S']áradwata, 'Tis true the monarch lacks no royal grace, Nor ever swerves from justice; true, his people, Yea such as in life's humblest walks are found, Refrain from evil courses; still to me, A lonely hermit reared in solitude, This throng appears bewildering, and I seem To look upon a burning house, whose inmates Are running to and fro in wild dismay. [S']ÁRADWATA. It is natural that the first sight of the King's capital should affect you in this manner; my own sensations are very similar. As one just bathed beholds the man polluted; As one late purified, the yet impure; As one awake looks on the yet unawakened; Or as the freeman gazes on the thrall, So I regard this crowd of pleasure-seekers. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Feeling a quivering sensation in her right eyelid_ [79]_, and suspecting a bad omen_. Alas! what means this throbbing of my right eyelid? GAUTAMÍ. Heaven avert the evil omen, my child! May the guardian deities of thy husband's family convert it into a sign of good fortune! [_Walks on_. PRIEST. [_Pointing to the King_. Most reverend Sirs, there stands the protector of the four classes of the people; the guardian of the four conditions of the priesthood[80]. He has just left the judgment-seat, and is waiting for you. Behold him! [S']ÁRNGARAVA Great Bráhman, we are happy in thinking that the King's power is exerted for the protection of all classes of his subjects. We have not come as petitioners--we have the fullest confidence in the generosity of his nature. The loftiest trees bend humbly to the ground Beneath the teeming burden of their fruit; High in the vernal sky the pregnant clouds Suspend their stately course, and, hanging low, Scatter their sparkling treasures o'er the earth; And such is true benevolence; the good Are never rendered arrogant by riches. WARDER. So please your Majesty, I judge from the placid countenance of the hermits that they have no alarming message to deliver. KING. [_Looking at [S']AKOONTALÁ_. But the lady there-- Who can she be, whose form of matchless grace Is half concealed beneath her flowing veil? Among the sombre hermits she appears Like a fresh bud 'mid sear and yellow leaves. WARDER. So please your Majesty, my curiosity is also roused, but no conjecture occurs to my mind. This at least is certain, that she deserves to be looked at more closely. KING. True; but it is not right to gaze at another man's wife[120]. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Placing her hand on her bosom. Aside_. O my heart, why this throbbing? Remember thy lord's affection, and take courage. PRIEST. [_Advancing_. These holy men have been received with all due honour. One of them has now a message to deliver from his spiritual superior. Will your Majesty deign to hear it? KING. I am all attention. HERMITS. [_Extending their hands_. Victory to the King! KING. Accept my respectful greeting. HERMITS. May the desires of your soul be accomplished! KING. I trust no one is molesting you in the prosecution of your religious rites. HERMITS. Who dares disturb our penitential rites When thou art our protector? Can the night Prevail to cast her shadows o'er the earth While the sun's beams irradiate the sky? KING. Such, indeed, is the very meaning of my title--'Defender of the Just.' I trust the venerable Kanwa is in good health. The world is interested in his well-being. HERMITS. Holy men have health and prosperity in their own power. He bade us greet your Majesty, and, after kind inquiries, deliver this message. KING. Let me hear his commands. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. He bade us say that he feels happy in giving his sanction to the marriage which your Majesty contracted with this lady, his daughter, privately and by mutual agreement. Because, By us thou art esteemed the most illustrious Of noble husbands; and [S']akoontalá, Virtue herself in human form revealed. Great Brahmá hath in equal yoke united A bride unto a husband worthy of her; Henceforth let none make blasphemous complaint That he is pleased with ill-assorted unions[81]. Since, therefore, she expects soon to be the mother of thy child, receive her into thy palace, that she may perform, in conjunction with thee, the ceremonies prescribed by religion on such an occasion. GAUTAMÍ. So please your Majesty, I would add a few words; but why should I intrude my sentiments when an opportunity of speaking my mind has never been allowed me? She took no counsel with her kindred; thou Didst not confer with thine, but all alone Didst solemnize thy nuptials with thy wife. Together, then, hold converse; let us leave you. [S']AKOONTALÁ [_Aside_. Ah! how I tremble for my lord's reply. KING. What strange proposal is this? [S']AKOONTALÁ [_Aside_. His words are like fire to me. [S']ÁRNGARAVA What do I hear? Dost thou, then, hesitate? Monarch, thou art well acquainted with the ways of the world, and knowest that A wife, however virtuous and discreet, If she live separate from her wedded lord, Though under shelter of her parent's roof, Is marked for vile suspicion. Let her dwell Beside her husband, though he hold her not In his affection. So her kinsmen will it. KING. Do you really mean to assert that I ever married this lady? [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Despondingly. Aside_. O my heart, thy worst misgivings are confirmed. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Is it becoming in a monarch to depart from the rules of justice, because he repents of his engagements? KING. I cannot answer a question which is based on a mere fabrication. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Such inconstancy is fortunately not common, except in men intoxicated by power. KING. Is that remark aimed at me? GAUTAMÍ. Be not ashamed, my daughter. Let me remove thy veil for a little space. Thy husband will then recognize thee. [_Removes her veil_. KING. [_Gazing at_ [S']AKOONTALÁ. _Aside_. What charms are here revealed before mine eyes! Truly no blemish mars the symmetry Of that fair form; yet can I ne'er believe She is my wedded wife; and like a bee That circles round the flower whose nectared cup Teems with the dew of morning, I must pause Ere eagerly I taste the proffered sweetness. [_Remains wrapped in thought_. WARDER. How admirably does our royal master's behaviour prove his regard for justice! Who else would hesitate for a moment when good fortune offered for his acceptance a form of such rare beauty? [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Great King, why art thou silent? KING. Holy men, I have revolved the matter in my mind; but the more I think of it, the less able am I to recollect that I ever contracted an alliance with this lady. What answer, then, can I possibly give you when I do not believe myself to be her husband, and I plainly see that she is soon to become a mother? [S']AKOONTALÁ [_Aside_. Woe! woe! Is our very marriage to be called in question by my own husband? Ah me! is this to be the end of all my bright visions of wedded happiness? [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Beware! Beware how thou insult the holy Sage! Remember how he generously allowed Thy secret union with his foster-child; And how, when thou didst rob him of his treasure, He sought to furnish thee excuse, when rather He should have cursed thee for a ravisher. [S']ÁRADWATA. [S']árngarava, speak to him no more. [S']akoontalá, our part is performed; we have said all we have to say, and the King has replied in the manner thou hast heard. It is now thy turn to give him convincing evidence of thy marriage. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. Since his feeling towards me has undergone a complete revolution, what will it avail to revive old recollections? One thing is clear--I shall soon have to mourn my own widowhood. [_Aloud_.] My revered husband-- [_Stops short_.] But no--I dare not address thee by this title, since thou hast refused to acknowledge our union. Noble descendant of Puru! It is not worthy of thee to betray an innocent-minded girl, and disown her in such terms, after having so lately and so solemnly plighted thy vows to her in the hermitage. KING. [_Stopping his ears_. I will hear no more. Be such a crime far from my thoughts! What evil spirit can possess thee, lady, That thou dost seek to sully my good name By base aspersions, like a swollen torrent, That, leaping from its narrow bed, o'erthrows The tree upon its bank, and strives to blend Its turbid waters with the crystal stream? [S']AKOONTALÁ. If, then, thou really believest me to be the wife of another, and thy present conduct proceeds from some cloud that obscures thy recollection, I will easily convince thee by this token. KING. An excellent idea! [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Feeling for the ring_. Alas! alas! woe is me! There is no ring on my finger! [_Looks with anguish at_ GAUTAMÍ. GAUTAMÍ. The ring must have slipped off when thou wast in the act of offering homage to the holy water of [S']achí's sacred pool, near Sakrávatára[82]. KING. [_Smiling_. People may well talk of the readiness of woman's invention! Here is an instance of it. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Say, rather, of the omnipotence of fate. I will mention another circumstance, which may yet convince thee. KING. By all means let me hear it at once. [S']AKOONTALÁ. One day, while we were seated in a jasmine-bower, thou didst pour into the hollow of thine hand some water, sprinkled by a recent shower in the cup of a lotus-blossom-- KING. I am listening; proceed. [S']AKOONTALÁ. At that instant, my adopted child, the little fawn, with soft, long eyes, came running towards us. Upon which, before tasting the water thyself, thou didst kindly offer some to the little creature, saying fondly:--'Drink first, gentle fawn.' But she could not be induced to drink from the hand of a stranger; though immediately afterwards, when I took the water in my own hand, she drank with perfect confidence. Then, with a smile, thou didst say;--'Every creature confides naturally in its own kind. You are both inhabitants of the same forest, and have learnt to trust each other.' KING. Voluptuaries may allow themselves to be seduced from the path of duty by falsehoods such as these, expressed in honeyed words. GAUTAMÍ. Speak not thus, illustrious Prince. This lady was brought up in a hermitage, and has never learnt deceit. KING. Holy matron, E'en in untutored brutes, the female sex Is marked by inborn subtlety--much more In beings gifted with intelligence. The wily Koïl[83], ere towards the sky She wings her sportive flight, commits her eggs To other nests, and artfully consigns The rearing of her little ones to strangers. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Angrily_. Dishonourable man, thou judgest of others by thine own evil heart. Thou, at least, art unrivalled in perfidy, and standest alone--a base deceiver in the garb of virtue and religion--like a deep pit whose yawning mouth is concealed by smiling flowers. KING. [_Aside_. Her anger, at any rate, appears genuine, and makes me almost doubt whether I am in the right. For indeed, When I had vainly searched my memory, And so with stern severity denied The fabled story of our secret loves, Her brows, that met before in graceful curves, Like the arched weapon of the god of love, Seemed by her frown dissevered; while the fire Of sudden anger kindled in her eyes. [_Aloud_.] My good lady, Dushyanta's character is well known to all. I comprehend not your meaning. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Well do I deserve to be thought a harlot for having in the innocence of my heart, and out of the confidence I reposed in a Prince of Puru's race, entrusted my honour to a man whose mouth distils honey, while his heart is full of poison. [_Covers her face with her mantle, and bursts into tears_. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Thus it is that burning remorse must ever follow rash actions which might have been avoided, and for which one has only one's self to blame. Not hastily should marriage be contracted, And specially in secret. Many a time, In hearts that know not each the other's fancies, Fond love is changed into most bitter hate. KING. How now! Do you give credence to this woman rather than to me, that you heap such accusations on me? [S']ÁRNGARAVA. [_Sarcastically_. That would be too absurd, certainly. You have heard the proverb:-- Hold in contempt the innocent words of those Who from their infancy have known no guile; But trust the treacherous counsels of the man Who makes a very science of deceit. KING. Most veracious Bráhman, grant that you are in the right, what end would be gained by betraying this lady? [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Ruin. KING. No one will believe that a Prince of Puru's race would seek to ruin others or himself. [S']ÁRADWATA. This altercation is idle, [S']árngarava. We have executed the commission of our preceptor; come, let us return. [_To the_ KING. [S']akoontalá is certainly thy bride; Receive her or reject her, she is thine. Do with her, King, according to thy pleasure-- The husband o'er the wife is absolute. Go on before us, Gautamí. [_They move away_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. What! is it not enough to have been betrayed by this perfidious man? Must you also forsake me, regardless of my tears and lamentations? [_Attempts to follow them_. GAUTAMÍ. [_Stopping_. My son [S']árngarava, see! [S']akoontalá is following us, and with tears implores us not to leave her. Alas! poor child, what will she do here with a cruel husband who casts her from him? [S']ÁRNGARAVA. [_Turning angrily towards her_. Wilful woman, dost thou seek to be independent of thy lord? [[S']AKOONTALÁ _trembles with fear_. [S']akoontalá! If thou art really what the King proclaims thee, How can thy father e'er receive thee back Into his house and home? but if thy conscience Be witness to thy purity of soul, E'en should thy husband to a handmaid's lot Condemn thee, thou may'st cheerfully endure it. When ranked among the number of his household. Thy duty therefore is to stay. As for us, we must return immediately. KING. Deceive not this lady, my good hermit, by any such expectations. The moon expands the lotus of the night, The rising sun awakes the lily; each Is with his own contented. Even so The virtuous man is master of his passions, And from another's wife averts his gaze[120]. [S']ÁRNGARAVA. Since thy union with another woman has rendered thee oblivious of thy marriage with [S']akoontalá, whence this fear of losing thy character for constancy and virtue? KING. [_To his domestic_ PRIEST. You must counsel me, revered Sir, as to my course of action. Which of the two evils involves the greater or less sin? Whether by some dark veil my mind be clouded. Or this designing woman speak untruly, I know not. Tell me, must I rather be The base disowner of my wedded wife, Or the defiling and defiled adulterer? PRIEST. [_After deliberation_. You must take an intermediate course. KING. What course, revered Sir? Tell me at once. PRIEST. I will provide an asylum for the lady in my own house until the birth of her child; and my reason, if you ask me, is this: Soothsayers have predicted that your first-born will have universal dominion. Now, if the hermit's daughter bring forth a son with the discus or mark of empire in the lines of his hand[84], you must admit her immediately into your royal apartments with great rejoicings; if not, then determine to send her back as soon as possible to her father. KING. I bow to the decision of my spiritual advisor. PRIEST. Daughter, follow me. [S']AKOONTALÁ. O divine earth, open and receive me into thy bosom! [_Exit_ [S']AKOONTALÁ _weeping, with the_ PRIEST _and the_ HERMITS. _The_ KING _remains absorbed in thinking of her, though the curse still clouds his recollection_. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. A miracle! a miracle! KING. [_Listening_. What has happened now? PRIEST. [_Entering with an air of astonishment_. Great Prince, a stupendous prodigy has just occurred. KING. What is it? PRIEST. May it please your Majesty, so soon as Kanwa's pupils had departed, [S']akoontalá, her eyes all bathed in tears, with outstretched arms, bewailed her cruel fate-- KING. Well, well, what happened then? PRIEST. When suddenly a shining apparition, In female shape, descended from the skies, Near the nymph's pool, and bore her up to heaven. [_All remain motionless with astonishment_. KING. My good priest, from the very first I declined having anything to do with this matter. It is now all over, and we can never, by our conjectures, unravel the mystery; let it rest; go, seek repose. PRIEST. [_Looking at the_ KING. Be it so. Victory to the King! [_Exit_. KING. Vetravatí, I am tired out; lead the way to the bedchamber. WARDER. This way, Sire. [_They move away_. KING. Do what I will, I cannot call to mind That I did e'er espouse the sage's daughter; Therefore I have disowned her; yet 'tis strange How painfully my agitated heart Bears witness to the truth of her assertion, And makes me credit her against my judgment. [_Exeunt_. * * * * * PRELUDE TO ACT VI. SCENE.--_A Street_. _Enter the King's brother-in-law as_ SUPERINTENDENT _of the city police; and with him_ TWO CONSTABLES, _dragging a poor_ FISHERMAN, _who has his hands tied behind his back_. BOTH THE CONSTABLES. [_Striking the prisoner_. Take that for a rascally thief that you are; and now tell us, sirrah, where you found this ring--aye, the King's own signet-ring. See, here is the royal name engraved on the setting of the jewel. FISHERMAN. [_With a gesture of alarm_. Mercy! kind sirs, mercy! I did not steal it; indeed I did not. FIRST CONSTABLE. Oh! then I suppose the King took you for some fine Bráhman, and made you a present of it? FISHERMAN. Only hear me. I am but a poor fisherman, living at Sakrávatára-- SECOND CONSTABLE. Scoundrel, who ever asked you, pray, for a history of your birth and parentage? SUPERINTENDENT. [_To one of the_ CONSTABLES. Súchaka, let the fellow tell his own story from the beginning. Don't interrupt him. BOTH CONSTABLES. As you please, master. Go on, then, sirrah, and say what you've got to say. FISHERMAN. You see in me a poor man, who supports his family by catching fish with nets, hooks, and the like. SUPERINTENDENT. [_Laughing_. A most refined occupation, certainly[85]! FISHERMAN. Blame me not for it, master, The father's occupation, though despised By others, casts no shame upon the son, And he should not forsake it[86]. Is the priest Who kills the animal for sacrifice Therefore deemed cruel? Sure a low-born man May, though a fisherman, be tender-hearted. SUPERINTENDENT. Well, well; go on with your story. FISHERMAN. One day I was cutting open a large carp[87] I had just hooked, when the sparkle of a jewel caught my eye, and what should I find in the fish's maw but that ring! Soon afterwards, when I was offering it for sale, I was seized by your honours. Now you know everything. Whether you kill me, or whether you let me go, this is the true account of how the ring came into my possession. SUPERINTENDENT. [_To one of the_ CONSTABLES. Well, Jánuka, the rascal emits such a fishy odour that I have no doubt of his being a fisherman; but we must inquire a little more closely into this queer story about the finding of the ring. Come, we'll take him before the King's household. BOTH CONSTABLES. Very good, master. Get on with you, you cutpurse. [_All move on_. SUPERINTENDENT. Now attend, Súchaka; keep your guard here at the gate; and hark ye, sirrahs, take good care your prisoner does not escape, while I go in and lay the whole story of the discovery of this ring before the King in person. I will soon return and let you know his commands. BOTH CONSTABLES. Go in, master, by all means; and may you find favour in the King's sight. [_Exit_ SUPERINTENDENT. FIRST CONSTABLE. [_After an interval_. I say, Jánuka, the Superintendent is a long time away. SECOND CONSTABLE. Aye, aye; kings are not to be got at so easily. Folks must bide the proper opportunity. FIRST CONSTABLE. Jánuka, my fingers itch to strike the first blow at this royal victim here. We must kill him with all the honours, you know. I long to begin binding the flowers round his head[88]. [_Pretends to strike a blow at the_ FISHERMAN. FISHERMAN. Your Honour surely will not put an innocent man to a cruel death. SECOND CONSTABLE. There's our Superintendent at last, I declare. See! he is coming towards us with a paper in his hand. We shall soon know the King's command; so prepare, my fine fellow, either to become food for the vultures, or to make acquaintance with some hungry cur. SUPERINTENDENT. [_Entering_. Ho, there, Súchaka! set the fisherman at liberty, I tell you. His story about the ring is all correct. SÚCHAKA. Oh! very good, Sir; as you please. SECOND CONSTABLE. The fellow had one foot in hell, and now here he is in the land of the living. [_Releases him_. FISHERMAN. [_Bowing to the_ SUPERINTENDENT. Now, master, what think you of my way of getting a livelihood? SUPERINTENDENT. Here, my good man, the King desired me to present you with this purse. It contains a sum of money equal to the full value of the ring. [_Gives him the money_. FISHERMAN. [_Taking it and bowing_. His Majesty does me too great honour. SÚCHAKA. You may well say so. He might as well have taken you from the gallows to seat you on his state elephant. JÁNUKA. Master, the King must value the ring very highly, or he would never have sent such a sum of money to this ragamuffin. SUPERINTENDENT. I don't think he prizes it as a costly jewel so much as a memorial of some person he tenderly loves. The moment it was shown to him he became much agitated, though in general he conceals his feelings. SÚCHAKA. Then you must have done a great service-- JÁNUKA. Yes, to this husband of a fish-wife. [_Looks enviously at the_ FISHERMAN. FISHERMAN. Here's half the money for you, my masters. It will serve to purchase the flowers you spoke of, if not to buy me your good-will. JÁNUKA. Well, now, that's just as it should be. SUPERINTENDENT. My good fisherman, you are an excellent fellow, and I begin to feel quite a regard for you. Let us seal our first friendship over a glass of good liquor. Come along to the next wine-shop, and we'll drink your health. ALL. By all means. [_Exeunt_. * * * * * ACT VI. SCENE.--_The Garden of a Palace. The nymph_ SÁNUMATÍ _is seen descending in a celestial car_. SÁNUMATÍ. Behold me just arrived from attending in my proper turn at the nymph's pool, where I have left the other nymphs to perform their ablutions, whilst I seek to ascertain, with my own eyes, how it fares with King Dushyanta. My connexion with the nymph Menaká has made her daughter [S']akoontalá dearer to me than my own flesh and blood; and Menaká it was who charged me with this errand on her daughter's behalf. [_Looking round in all directions_.] How is it that I see no preparations in the King's household for celebrating the great vernal festival[89]? I could easily discover the reason by my divine faculty of meditation[134]; but respect must be shown to the wishes of my friend. How then shall I arrive at the truth? I know what I will do. I will become invisible, and place myself near those two maidens who are tending the plants in the garden. [_Descends and takes her station_. _Enter a_ MAIDEN, _who stops in front of a mango-tree, and gazes at the blossom. Another_ MAIDEN _is seen behind her_. FIRST MAIDEN. Hail to thee, lovely harbinger of spring! The varied radiance of thy opening flowers Is welcome to my sight. I bid thee hail, Sweet mango, soul of this enchanting season. SECOND MAIDEN. Parabhritiká, what are you saying there to yourself? FIRST MAIDEN. Dear Madhukariká, am I not named after the Koïl[90]? and does not the Koïl sing for joy at the first appearance of the mango-blossom? SECOND MAIDEN. [_Approaching hastily, with transport_. What! is spring really come? FIRST MAIDEN. Yes, indeed, Madhukariká, and with it the season of joy, love, and song. SECOND MAIDEN. Let me lean upon you, dear, while I stead on tiptoe and pluck a blossom, of the mango, that I may present it as an offering to the god of love. FIRST MAIDEN. Provided you let me have half the reward which the god will bestow in return. SECOND MAIDEN. To be sure you shall, and that without asking. Are we not one in heart and soul, though divided in body? [_Leans on her friend and plucks a mango-blossom_.] Ah! here is a bud just bursting into flower. It diffuses a delicious perfume, though not yet quite expanded. [_Joining her hands reverentially_.] God of the bow, who with spring's choicest flowers Dost point thy five unerring shafts[91]; to thee I dedicate this blossom; let it serve To barb thy truest arrow; be its mark Some youthful heart that pines to be beloved. [_Throws down a mango-blossom_. CHAMBERLAIN. [_Entering in a hurried manner, angrily_. Hold there, thoughtless woman. What are you about, breaking off those mango-blossoms, when the King has forbidden the celebration of the spring festival? BOTH MAIDENS. [_Alarmed_. Pardon us, kind Sir, we have heard nothing of it. CHAMBERLAIN. You have heard nothing of it? Why, all the vernal plants and shrubs, and the very birds that lodge in their branches, show more respect to the King's order than you do. Yon mango-blossoms, though long since expanded, Gather no down upon their tender crests; The flower still lingers in the amaranth[92], Imprisoned in its bud; the tuneful Koïl, Though winter's chilly dews be overpast, Suspends the liquid volume of his song Scarce uttered in his throat; e'en Love, dismayed, Restores the half-drawn arrow to his quiver. BOTH MAIDENS. The mighty power of King Dushyanta is not to be disputed. FIRST MAIDEN. It is but a few days since Mitrávasu, the King's brother-in-law, sent us to wait upon his Majesty; and, during the whole of our sojourn here, we have been entrusted with the charge of the royal pleasure-grounds. We are therefore strangers in this place, and heard nothing of the order till you informed us of it. CHAMBERLAIN. Well then, now you know it, take care you don't continue your preparations. BOTH MAIDENS. But tell us, kind Sir, why has the King prohibited the usual festivities? We are curious to hear, if we may. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Men are naturally fond of festive entertainments. There must be some good reason for the prohibition. CHAMBERLAIN. The whole affair is now public; why should I not speak of it? Has not the gossip about the King's rejection of [S']akoontalá reached your ears yet? BOTH MAIDENS. Oh yes, we heard the story from the King's brother-in-law, as far, at least, as the discovery of the ring. CHAMBERLAIN. Then there is little more to tell you. As soon as the King's memory was restored by the sight of his own ring, he exclaimed: 'Yes, it is all true. I remember now my secret marriage with [S']akoontalá. When I repudiated her, I had lost my recollection!' Ever since that moment, he has yielded himself a prey to the bitterest remorse. He loathes his former pleasures; he rejects The daily homage of his ministers; On his lone couch he tosses to and fro, Courting repose in vain. Whene'er he meets The ladies of his palace, and would fain Address them with politeness, he confounds Their names; or, calling them '[S']akoontalá,' Is straightway silent and abashed with shame. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. To me this account is delightful. CHAMBERLAIN. In short, the King is so completely out of his mind that the festival has been prohibited. BOTH MAIDENS. Perfectly right. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. The King! the King! This way, Sire, this way. CHAMBERLAIN. [_Listening_. Oh! here comes his Majesty in this direction. Pass on, maidens; attend to your duties. BOTH MAIDENS. We will, sir. [_Exeunt_. _Enter King_ DUSHYANTA, _dressed in deep mourning, attended his Jester_, MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _and preceded by_ VETRAVATÍ. CHAMBERLAIN. [_Gazing at the_ KING. Well, noble forms are certainly pleasing, under all varieties of outward circumstances. The King's person is as charming as ever, notwithstanding his sorrow of mind. Though but a single golden bracelet spans His wasted arm; though costly ornaments Have given place to penitential weeds; Though oft-repeated sighs have blanched his lips, And robbed them of their bloom; though sleepless care And carking thought have dimmed his beaming eye; Yet does his form, by its inherent lustre, Dazzle the gaze; and, like a priceless gem Committed to some cunning polisher, Grow more effulgent by the loss of substance. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside. Looking at the_ KING. Now that I have seen him, I can well understand why [S']akoontalá should pine after such a man, in spite of his disdainful rejection of her. KING. [_Walking slowly up and down in deep thought_. When fatal lethargy o'erwhelmed my soul, My loved one strove to rouse me, but in vain; And now, when I would fain in slumber deep Forget myself, full soon remorse doth wake me. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. My poor [S']akoontalá's sufferings are very similar. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. He is taken with another attack of this odious [S']akoontalá-fever. How shall we ever cure him? CHAMBERLAIN. [_Approaching_. Victory to the King! Great Prince, the royal pleasure-grounds have been put in order. Your Majesty can resort to them for exercise and amusement whenever you think proper. KING. Vetravatí, tell the worthy Pi[S']una, my prime minister, from me, that I am so exhausted by want of sleep that I cannot sit on the judgment-seat to-day. If any case of importance be brought before the tribunal, he must give it his best attention, and inform me of the circumstances by letter. VETRAVATÍ. Your Majesty's commands shall be obeyed. [_Exit_. KING. [_To the CHAMBERLAIN_. And you, Vátáyana, may go about your own affairs. CHAMBERLAIN. I will, Sire. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Now that you have rid yourself of these troublesome fellows, you can enjoy the delightful coolness of your pleasure-grounds without interruption. KING. Ah! my dear friend, there is an old adage:--'When affliction has a mind to enter, she will find a crevice somewhere;' and it is verified in me. Scarce is my soul delivered from the cloud That darkened its remembrance of the past, When lo! the heart-born deity of love With yonder blossom of the mango barbs His keenest shaft, and aims it at my breast. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Well, then, wait a moment; I will soon demolish Master Káma's[47] arrow with a cut of my cane. [_Raises his stick and strikes off the mango-blossom_. KING. [_Smiling_. That will do. I see very well the god of love is not a match for a Bráhman. And now, my dear friend, where shall I sit down, that I may enchant my sight by gazing on the twining plants, which seem to remind me of the graceful shape of my beloved? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Don't you remember? you told your personal attendant, Chaturiká, that you would pass the heat of the day in the jasmine-bower; and commanded her to bring the likeness of your queen [S']akoontalá, sketched with your own hand. KING. True. The sight of her picture will refresh my soul. Lead the way to the arbour. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. This way, Sire. [_Both move on, followed by_ SÁNUMATÍ. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Here we are at the jasmine-bower. Look, it has a marble seat, and seems to bid us welcome with its offerings of delicious flowers. You have only to enter and sit down. [_Both enter and seat themselves_. SÁNUMATÍ [_Aside_. I will lean against these young jasmines. I can easily, from behind them, glance at my friend's picture, and will then hasten to inform her of her husband's ardent affection. [_Stands leaning against the creepers_. KING. Oh! my dear friend, how vividly all the circumstances of my union with [S']akoontalá present themselves to my recollection at this moment! But tell me now how it was that, between the time of my leaving her in the hermitage and my subsequent rejection of her, you never breathed her name to me? True, you were not by my side when I disowned her; but I had confided to you the story of my love, and you were acquainted with every particular. Did it pass out of your mind as it did out of mine? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. No, no; trust me for that. But, if you remember, when you had finished telling me about it, you added that I was not to take the story in earnest, for that you were not really in love with a country girl, but were only jesting; and I was dull and thick-headed enough to believe you. But so fate decreed, and there is no help for it. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Exactly. KING. [_After deep thought_. My dear friend, suggest some relief for my misery. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Come, come, cheer up; why do you give way? Such weakness is unworthy of you. Great men never surrender themselves to uncontrolled grief. Do not mountains remain unshaken even in a gale of wind? KING. How can I be otherwise than inconsolable, when I call to mind the agonized demeanour of the dear one on the occasion of my disowning her? When cruelly I spurned her from my presence, She fain had left me; but the young recluse, Stern as the Sage, and with authority As from his saintly master, in a voice That brooked not contradiction, bade her stay. Then through her pleading eyes, bedimmed with tears, She cast on me one long reproachful look, Which like a poisoned shaft torments me still. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Alas! such is the force of self-reproach following a rash action. But his anguish only rejoices me. MÁ[T.]HAVYA An idea has just struck me. I should not wonder if some celestial being had carried her off to heaven. KING. Very likely. Who else would have dared to lay a finger on a wife, the idol of her husband? It is said that Menaká, the nymph of heaven, gave her birth. The suspicion has certainly crossed my mind that some of her celestial companions may have taken her to their own abode. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. His present recollection of every circumstance of her history does not surprise me so much as his former forgetfulness. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. If that's the case, you will be certain to meet her before long. KING. Why? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. No father and mother can endure to see a daughter suffering the pain of separation from her husband. KING. Oh! my dear Má[T.]Havya, Was it a dream? or did some magic dire, Dulling my senses with a strange delusion, O'ercome my spirit? or did destiny, Jealous of my good actions, mar their fruit, And rob me of their guerdon? It is past, Whate'er the spell that bound me. Once again Am I awake, but only to behold The precipice o'er which my hopes have fallen. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Do not despair in this manner. Is not this very ring a proof that what has been lost may be unexpectedly found? KING. [_Gazing at the ring_. Ah! this ring, too, has fallen from a station not easily regained, and I offer it my sympathy. O gem, The punishment we suffer is deserved, And equal is the merit of our works, When such our common doom. Thou didst enjoy The thrilling contact of those slender fingers, Bright as the dawn; and now how changed thy lot! SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Had it found its way to the hand of any other person, then indeed its fate would have been deplorable. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Pray, how did the ring ever come upon her hand at all? SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. I myself am curious to know. KING. You shall hear. When I was leaving my beloved [S']akoontalá that I might return to my own capital, she said to me, with tears in her eyes: 'How long will it be ere my lord send for me to his palace and make me his queen?' MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Well, what was your reply? KING. Then I placed the ring on her finger, and thus addressed her:-- Repeat each day one letter of the name Engraven on this gem; ere thou hast reckoned The tale of syllables, my minister Shall come to lead thee to thy husband's palace. But, hard-hearted man that I was, I forgot to fulfil my promise, owing to the infatuation that took possession of me. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. A pleasant arrangement! Fate, however, ordained that the appointment should not be kept. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. But how did the ring contrive to pass into the stomach of that carp which the fisherman caught and was cutting up? KING. It must have slipped from my [S']akoontalá's hand, and fallen into the stream of the Ganges, while she was offering homage to the water of [S']achí's holy pool. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Very likely. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Hence it happened, I suppose, that the King, always fearful of committing the least injustice, came to doubt his marriage with my poor [S']akoontalá. But why should affection so strong as his stand in need of any token of recognition? KING. Let me now address a few words of reproof to this ring. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. He is going stark mad, I verily believe. KING. Hear me, then dull and undiscerning bauble! For so it argues thee, that thou could'st leave The slender fingers of her hand, to sink Beneath the waters. Yet what marvel is it That thou should'st lack discernment? let me rather Heap curses on myself, who, though endowed With reason, yet rejected her I loved. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. And so, I suppose, I must stand here to be devoured by hunger, whilst he goes on in this sentimental strain. KING. O forsaken one, unjustly banished from my presence, take pity on thy slave, whose heart is consumed by the fire of remorse, and return to my sight. _Enter_ CHATURIKÁ _hurriedly, with a picture in her hand_. CHATURIKÁ. Here is the Queen's portrait. [_Shows the picture_. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Excellent, my dear friend, excellent! The imitation of nature is perfect, and the attitude of the figures is really charming. They stand out in such bold relief that the eye is quite deceived. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. A most artistic performance! I admire the King's skill, and could almost believe that [S']akoontalá herself was before me. KING. I own 'tis not amiss, though it portrays But feebly her angelic loveliness. Aught less than perfect is depicted falsely, And fancy must supply the imperfection. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. A very just remark from a modest man, whose affection is exaggerated by the keenness of his remorse. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Tell me:--I see three female figures drawn on the canvas, and all of them beautiful; which of the three is her Majesty [S']akoontalá? SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. If he cannot distinguish her from the others, the simpleton might as well have no eyes in his head. KING. Which should you imagine to be intended for her? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. She who is leaning, apparently a little tired, against the stem of that mango-tree, the tender leaves of which glitter with the water she has poured upon them. Her arms are gracefully extended; her face is somewhat flushed with the heat; and a few flowers have escaped from her hair, which has become unfastened, and hangs in loose tresses about her neck. That must be the queen [S']akoontalá, and the others, I presume, are her two attendants. KING. I congratulate you on your discernment. Behold the proof of my passion; My finger, burning with the glow of love[93], Has left its impress on the painted tablet; While here and there, alas! a scalding tear Has fallen on the cheek and dimmed its brightness. Chaturiká, the garden in the background of the picture is only half-painted. Go, fetch the brush that I may finish it. CHATURIKÁ. Worthy Má[t.]havya, have the kindness to hold the picture until I return. KING. Nay, I will hold it myself. [_Takes the picture_. [_Exit_ CHATURIKÁ. My loved one came but lately to my presence And offered me herself, but in my folly I spurned the gift, and now I fondly cling To her mere image; even as a madman Would pass the waters of the gushing stream, And thirst for airy vapours of the desert[94]. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. He has been fool enough to forego the reality for the semblance, the substance for the shadow. [_Aloud_.] Tell us, I pray, what else remains to be painted. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. He longs, no doubt, to delineate some favourite spot where my [S']akoontalá delighted to ramble. KING. You shall hear:-- I wish to see the Máliní portrayed, Its tranquil course by banks of sand impeded; Upon the brink a pair of swans; beyond, The hills adjacent to Himálaya[95], Studded with deer; and, near the spreading shade Of some large tree, where 'mid the branches hang The hermits' vests of bark, a tender doe, Rubbing its downy forehead on the horn Of a black antelope, should be depicted. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. [_Aside_. Pooh! if I were he, I would fill up the vacant spaces with a lot of grizzly-bearded old hermits. KING. My dear Má[T.]Havya, there is still a part of [S']akoontalá's dress which I purposed to draw, but find I have omitted. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. What is that? SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Something suitable, I suppose, to the simple attire of a young and beautiful girl dwelling in a forest. KING. A sweet [S']irísha blossom should be twined Behind her ear[7], its perfumed crest depending Towards her cheek; and, resting on her bosom, A lotus-fibre necklace, soft and bright As an autumnal moonbeam, should be traced. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Pray, why does the Queen cover her lips with the tips of her fingers, bright as the blossom of a lily, as if she were afraid of something? [_Looking more closely_.] Oh! I see; a vagabond bee, intent on thieving honey from the flowers, has mistaken her mouth for a rosebud, and is trying to settle upon it. KING. A bee! drive off the impudent insect, will you? MÁ[T.]HAVYA. That's your business. Your royal prerogative gives you power over all offenders. KING. Very true. Listen to me, thou favourite guest of flowering plants; why give thyself the trouble of hovering here? See where thy partner sits on yonder flower, And waits for thee ere she will sip its dew. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. A most polite way of warning him off! MÁ[T.]HAVYA. You'll find the obstinate creature is not to be sent about his business so easily as you think. KING. Dost thou presume to disobey? Now hear me:-- An thou but touch the lips of my beloved, Sweet as the opening blossom, whence I quaffed In happier days love's nectar, I will place thee Within the hollow of yon lotus cup, And there imprison thee for thy presumption. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. He must be bold indeed not to show any fear when you threaten him with such an awful punishment. [_Smiling, aside_.] He is stark mad, that's clear; and I believe, by keeping him company, I am beginning to talk almost as wildly. [_Aloud_.] Look, it is only a painted bee. KING. Painted? impossible! SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Even I did not perceive it; how much less should he! KING. Oh! my dear friend, why were you so ill-natured as to tell me the truth? While all entranced, I gazed upon her picture, My loved one seemed to live before my eyes Till every fibre of my being thrilled With rapturous emotion. Oh! 'twas cruel To dissipate the day-dream, and transform The blissful vision to a lifeless image. [_Sheds tears_. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Separated lovers are very difficult to please; but he seems more difficult than usual. KING. Alas! my dear Má[T.]Havya, why am I doomed to be the victim of perpetual disappointment? Vain is the hope of meeting her in dreams, For slumber night by night forsakes my couch; And now that I would fain assuage my grief By gazing on her portrait here before me, Tears of despairing love obscure my sight. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. You have made ample amends for the wrong you did [S']akoontalá in disowning her. CHATURIKÁ. [_Entering_. Victory to the King! I was coming along with the box of colours in my hand-- KING. What now? CHATURIKÁ. When I met the queen Vasumatí, attended by Taraliká. She insisted on taking it from me, and declared she would herself deliver it into your Majesty's hands. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. By what luck did you contrive to escape her? CHATURIKÁ. While her maid was disengaging her mantle, which had caught in the branch, of a shrub, I ran away. KING. Here, my good friend, take the picture and conceal it. My attentions to the Queen have made her presumptuous. She will be here in a minute. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. Conceal the picture! conceal myself, you mean. [_Getting up and taking the picture_.] The Queen has a bitter draught in store for you, which you will have to swallow, as [S']iva did the poison at the Deluge[96]. When you are well quit of her, you may send and call me from the Palace of Clouds[97], where I shall take refuge. [_Exit, running_. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Although the King's affections are transferred to another object, yet he respects his previous attachments. I fear his love must be somewhat fickle. VETRAVATÍ. [_Entering with a despatch in her hand_. Victory to the King! KING. Vetravatí, did you observe the queen Vasumatí coming in this direction? VETRAVATÍ. I did; but when she saw that I had a despatch in my hand for your Majesty, she turned back. KING. The Queen has too much regard for propriety to interrupt me when I am engaged with State-affairs. VETRAVATÍ. So please your Majesty, your prime minister begs respectfully to inform you that he has devoted much time to the settlement of financial calculations, and only one case of importance has been submitted by the citizens for his consideration. He has made a written report of the facts, and requests your Majesty to cast your eyes over it. KING. Hand me the paper. [_VETRAVATÍ delivers it_. [_Reading_. What have we here? 'A merchant named Dhanamitra, trading by sea, was lost in a late shipwreck. Though a wealthy trader, he was childless; and the whole of his immense property becomes by law forfeited to the king.' So writes the minister. Alas! alas! for his childlessness! But surely, if he was wealthy, he must have had many wives. Let an inquiry be made whether any one of them is expecting to give birth to a child. VETRAVATÍ. They say that his wife, the daughter of the foreman of a guild belonging to Ayodhyá [98], has just completed the ceremonies usual upon such expectations. KING. The unborn child has a title to its father's property. Such is my decree. Go, bid my minister proclaim it so. VETRAVATÍ. I will, my liege. [_Going_. KING. Stay a moment. VETRAVATÍ. I am at your Majesty's service. KING. Let there be no question whether he may or may not have left offspring; Rather be it proclaimed that whosoe'er Of King Dushyanta's subjects be bereaved Of any loved relation, an it be not That his estates are forfeited for crimes, Dushyanta will himself to them supply That kinsman's place in tenderest affection. VETRAVATÍ. It shall be so proclaimed. [_Exit_ VETRAVATÍ, _and re-enters after an interval_. VETRAVATÍ. Your Majesty's proclamation was received with acclamations of joy, like grateful rain at the right season. KING. [_Drawing a deep sigh_. So, then, the property of rich men, who have no lineal descendants, passes over to a stranger at their decease. And such, alas! must be the fate of the fortunes of the race of Puru at my death; even as when fertile soil is sown with seed at the wrong season. VETRAVATÍ. Heaven forbid! KING. Fool that I was to reject such happiness when it offered itself for my acceptance! SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. He may well blame his own folly when he calls to mind his treatment of my beloved [S']akoontalá. KING. Ah! woe is me! when I forsook my wife-- My lawful wife--concealed within her breast There lay my second self, a child unborn, Hope of my race, e'en as the choicest fruit Lies hidden in the bosom of the earth. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. There is no fear of your race being cut off for want of a son. CHATURIKÁ. [_Aside to_ VETRAVATÍ. The affair of the merchant's death has quite upset our royal master, and caused him sad distress. Would it not be better to fetch the worthy Má[t.]havya from the Palace of Clouds to comfort him? VETRAVATÍ. A very good idea. [_Exit_. KING. Alas! the shades of my forefathers are even now beginning to be alarmed, lest at my death they may be deprived of their funeral libations. No son remains in King Dushyanta's place To offer sacred homage to the dead Of Puru's noble line; my ancestors Must drink these glistening tears, the last libation[99] A childless man can ever hope to make them. [_Falls down in an agony of grief_. CHATURIKÁ. [_Looking at him in consternation_. Great King, compose yourself. SÁNUMATÍ. [_Aside_. Alas! alas! though a bright light is shining near him, he is involved in the blackest darkness, by reason of the veil that obscures his sight. I will now reveal all, and put an end to his misery. But no; I heard the mother of the great Indra[100], when she was consoling [S']akoontalá, say that the gods will soon bring about a joyful union between husband and wife, being eager for the sacrifice which will be celebrated in their honour on the occasion. I must not anticipate the happy moment, but will return at once to my dear friend and cheer her with an account of what I have seen and heard. [_Rises aloft and disappears_. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Help! help! to the rescue! KING. [_Recovering himself. Listening_. Ha! I heard a cry of distress, and in Má[t.]havya's voice too. What ho there! VETRAVATÍ. [_Entering_. Your friend is in danger; save him, great King. KING. Who dares insult the worthy Má[t.]havya? VETRAVATÍ. Some evil demon, invisible to human eyes, has seized him, and carried him to one of the turrets of the Palace of Clouds. KING. [_Rising_. Impossible! Have evil spirits power over my subjects, even in nay private apartments? Well, well;-- Daily I seem, less able to avert Misfortune from myself, and o'er my actions Less competent to exercise control; How can I then direct my subjects' ways, Or shelter them from tyranny and wrong? A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Halloo there! my dear friend; help! help! KING. [_Advancing with rapid strides_. Fear nothing-- THE SAME VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Fear nothing, indeed! How can I help fearing when some monster is twisting back my neck, and is about to snap it as he would a sugar-cane? KING. [_Looking round_. What ho there! my bow! SLAVE. [_Entering with a bow_. Behold your bow, Sire, and your arm-guard. [_The_ KING _snatches up the bow and arrows_. ANOTHER VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Here, thirsting for thy life-blood, will I slay thee, As a fierce tiger rends his struggling prey. Call now thy friend Dushyanta to thy aid; His bow is mighty to defend the weak; Yet all its vaunted power shall be as nought. KING. [_With fury_. What! dares he defy me to my face? Hold there, monster! Prepare to die, for your time is come. [_Stringing his bow_.] Vetravatí, lead the way to the terrace. VETRAVATÍ. This way, Sire. [_They advance in haste_. KING. [_Looking on every side_. How's this? there is nothing to be seen. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Help! Save me! I can see you, though you cannot see me. I am like a mouse in the claws of a cat; my life is not worth a minute's purchase. KING. Avaunt, monster! You may pride yourself on the magic that renders you invisible, but my arrow shall find you out. Thus do I fix a shaft That shall discern between an impious demon, And a good Bráhman; bearing death to thee, To him deliverance--even as the swan Distinguishes the milk from worthless water[101]. [_Takes aim_. _Enter_ MÁTALI[102] _holding_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA, _whom he releases_. MÁTALI. Turn thou thy deadly arrows on the demons; Such is the will of Indra; let thy bow Be drawn against the enemies of the gods; But on thy friends cast only looks of favour. KING. [_Putting back his arrow_. What, Mátali! Welcome, most noble charioteer of the mighty Indra. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. So, here is a monster who thought as little about slaughtering me as if I had been a bullock for sacrifice, and you must e'en greet him with a welcome. MÁTALI. [_Smiling_. Great Prince, hear on what errand Indra sent me into your presence. KING. I am all attention. MÁTALI. There is a race of giants, the descendants of Kálanemi[103], whom the gods find it difficult to subdue. KING. So I have already heard from Nárada[104]. MÁTALI. Heaven's mighty lord, who deigns to call thee 'friend,' Appoints thee to the post of highest honour, As leader of his armies; and commits The subjugation of this giant brood To thy resistless arms, e'en as the sun Leaves the pale moon to dissipate the darkness. Let your Majesty, therefore, ascend at once the celestial car of Indra; and, grasping your arms, advance to victory. KING. The mighty Indra honours me too highly by such a mark of distinction. But tell me, what made you act thus towards my poor friend Má[T.]Havya? MÁTALI. I will tell you. Perceiving that your Majesty's spirit was completely broken by some distress of mind under which you were labouring, I determined to rouse your energies by moving you to anger. Because To light a flame, we need but stir the embers; The cobra, when incensed, extends his head And springs upon his foe; the bravest men Display their courage only when provoked. KING. [_Aside to_ MÁ[T.]HAVYA. My dear Má[T.]Havya, the commands of the great Indra must not be left unfulfilled. Go you and acquaint my minister, Pi[S']una, with what has happened, and say to him from me:-- Dushyanta to thy care confides his realm-- Protect with all the vigour of thy mind The interests of his people; while his bow Is braced against the enemies of heaven. MÁ[T.]HAVYA. I obey. [_Exit_. MÁTALI Ascend, illustrious Prince. [_The_ KING _ascends the car_. [_Exeunt_. * * * * * ACT VII. SCENE.--_The Sky_. _Enter_ KING DUSHYANTA _and_ MÁTALI _in the car of Indra, moving in the air_. KING. My good Mátali, it appears to me incredible that I can merit such a mark of distinction for having simply fulfilled the behests of the great Indra. MÁTALI. [_Smiling_. Great Prince, it seems to me that neither of you is satisfied with himself. You underrate the services you have rendered, And think too highly of the god's reward; He deems it scarce sufficient recompense For your heroic deeds on his behalf. KING. Nay, Mátali, say not so. My most ambitious expectations were more than realised by the honour conferred on me at the moment when I took my leave. For, Tinged with celestial sandal, from the breast[105] Of the great Indra, where before it hung, A garland of the ever-blooming tree Of Nandana[106] was cast about my neck By his own hand; while, in the very presence Of the assembled gods, I was enthroned Beside their mighty lord, who smiled to see His son Jayanta[107] envious of the honour. MÁTALI. There is no mark of distinction which your Majesty does not deserve at the hands of the immortals. See, Heaven's hosts acknowledge thee their second saviour: For now thy how's unerring shafts (as erst The Lion-man's terrific claws[108]) have purged The empyreal sphere from taint of demons foul. KING. The praise of my victory must be ascribed to the majesty of Indra. When mighty gods make men their delegates In martial enterprise, to them belongs The palm of victory; and not to mortals. Could the pale Dawn dispel the shades of night, Did not the god of day, whose diadem Is jewelled with a thousand beams of light, Place him in front of his effulgent car[11]? MÁTALI. A very just comparison! [_Driving on_.] Great King, behold! the glory of thy fame has reached even to the vault of heaven. Hark! yonder inmates of the starry sphere Sing anthems worthy of thy martial deeds, While with celestial colours they depict The story of thy victories on scrolls Formed of the leaves of heaven's immortal trees. KING. My good Mátali, yesterday, when I ascended the sky, I was so eager to do battle with the demons, that the road by which we were travelling towards Indra's heaven escaped my observation. Tell me, in which path of the seven winds are we now moving? MÁTALI. We journey in the path of Parivaha[109]-- The wind that bears along the triple Ganges[110] And causes Ursa's seven stars to roll In their appointed orbits, scattering Their several rays with equal distribution. 'Tis the same path that once was sanctified By the divine impression of the foot Of Vishnu, when, to conquer haughty Bali, He spanned the heavens in his second stride[111]. KING. This is the reason, I suppose, that a sensation of calm repose pervades all my senses. [_Looking down at the wheels_.] Ah! Mátali, we are descending towards the earth's atmosphere. MÁTALI. What makes you think so? KING. The car itself instructs me; we are moving O'er pregnant clouds, surcharged with rain; below us I see the moisture-loving Chátakas[112] In sportive flight dart through the spokes; the steeds Of Indra glisten with the lightning's flash; And a thick mist bedews the circling wheels. MÁTALI. You are right; in a little while the chariot will touch the ground, and you will be in your own dominions. KING. [_Looking down_. How wonderful the appearance of the earth as we rapidly descend! Stupendous prospect! yonder lofty hills Do suddenly uprear their towering heads Amid the plain, while from beneath their crests The ground receding sinks; the trees, whose stem Seemed lately hid within their leafy tresses, Rise into elevation, and display Their branching shoulders; yonder streams, whose waters, Like silver threads, were scarce, but now, discerned, Grow into mighty rivers; lo! the earth Seems upward hurled by some gigantic power. MÁTALI. Well described! [_Looking with awe_.] Grand, indeed, and lovely is the spectacle presented by the earth. KING. Tell me, Mátali, what is the range of mountains which, like a bank of clouds illumined by the setting sun, pours down a stream of gold? On one side its base dips into the eastern ocean, and on the other side into the western. MÁTALI. Great Prince, it is called 'Golden-peak[113],' and is the abode of the attendants of the god of wealth. In this spot the highest forms of penance are wrought out. There Ka[s']yapa[114], the great progenitor Of demons and of gods, himself the offspring Of the divine Maríchi, Brahmá's son, With Adití, his wife, in calm seclusion, Does holy penance for the good of mortals. KING. Then I must not neglect so good an opportunity of obtaining his blessing. I should much like to visit this venerable personage and offer him my homage. MÁTALI. By all means. An excellent idea! [_Guides the car to the earth_. KING. [_In a tone of wonder_. How's this? Our chariot wheels move noiselessly. Around No clouds of dust arise; no shock betokened Our contact with the earth; we seem to glide Above the ground, so lightly do we touch it. MÁTALI. Such is the difference between the car of Indra and that of your Majesty. KING. In which direction, Mátali, is Ka[s']yapa's sacred retreat? MÁTALI. [_Pointing_. Where stands yon anchorite, towards the orb Of the meridian sun, immovable As a tree's stem, his body half-concealed By a huge ant-hill. Bound about his breast No sacred cord is twined[115], but in its stead A hideous serpent's skin. In place of necklace, The tendrils of a withered creeper chafe His wasted neck. His matted hair depends In thick entanglement about his shoulders, And birds construct their nests within its folds[116]. KING. I salute thee, thou man of austere devotion. MÁTALI. [_Holding in the reins of the car_. Great Prince, we are now in the sacred grove of the holy Ka[s']yapa--the grove that boasts as its ornament one of the five trees of Indra's heaven, reared by Adití. KING. This sacred retreat is more delightful than heaven itself. I could almost fancy myself bathing in a pool of nectar. MÁTALI. [_Stopping the chariot_. Descend, mighty Prince. KING. [_Descending_. And what will you do, Mátali? MÁTALI. The chariot will remain where I have stopped it. We may both descend. [_Doing so_.] This way, great King. [_Walking on_.] You see around you the celebrated region where the holiest sages devote themselves to penitential rites. KING. I am filled with awe and wonder as I gaze. In such a place as this do saints of earth Long to complete their acts of penance; here, Beneath the shade of everlasting trees. Transplanted from the groves of Paradise, May they inhale the balmy air, and need No other nourishment[117]; here may they bathe In fountains sparkling with the golden dust Of lilies; here, on jewelled slabs of marble, In meditation rapt, may they recline; Here, in the presence of celestial nymphs, E'en passion's voice is powerless to move them. MÁTALI. So true is it that the aspirations of the good and great are ever soaring upwards. [_Turning round and speaking off the stage_.] Tell me, Vriddha-[S']ákalya, how is the divine son of Maríchi now engaged? What sayest thou? that he is conversing with Adití and some of the wives of the great sages, and that they are questioning him respecting the duties of a faithful wife? KING. [_Listening_. Then we must await the holy father's leisure. MÁTALI. [_Looking at the_ KING. If your Majesty will rest under the shade, at the foot of this A[s']oka-tree [118], I will seek an opportunity of announcing your arrival to Indra's reputed father. KING. As you think proper. [_Remains under the tree_. MÁTALI. Great King, I go. [_Exit_. KING. [_Feeling his arm throb_. Wherefore this causeless throbbing, O mine arm[18]? All hope has fled for ever; mock me not With presages of good, when happiness Is lost, and nought but misery remains. A VOICE BEHIND THE SCENES. Be not so naughty. Do you begin already to show a refractory spirit? KING. [_Listening_. This is no place for petulance. Who can it be whose behaviour calls for such a rebuke? [_Looking in the direction of the sound and smiling_.] A child, is it? closely attended by two holy women. His disposition seems anything but child-like. See! He braves the fury of yon lioness Suckling its savage offspring, and compels The angry whelp to leave the half-sucked dug, Tearing its tender mane in boisterous sport. _Enter a_ CHILD, _attended by_ TWO WOMEN _of the hermitage, in the manner described_. CHILD. Open your mouth, my young lion, I want to count your teeth. FIRST ATTENDANT. You naughty child, why do you tease the animals? Know you not that we cherish them in this hermitage as if they were our own children? In good sooth, you have a high spirit of your own, and are beginning already to do justice to the name Sarva-damana ('All-taming'), given you by the hermits. KING. Strange! My heart inclines towards the boy with almost as much affection as if he were my own child. What can be the reason? I suppose my own childlessness makes me yearn towards the sons of others. SECOND ATTENDANT. This lioness will certainly attack you if you do not release her whelp. CHILD. [_Laughing_. Oh! indeed! let her come. Much I fear her, to be sure! [_Pouts his under-lip in defiance_. KING. The germ of mighty courage lies concealed Within this noble infant, like a spark Beneath the fuel, waiting but a breath To fan the flame and raise a conflagration. FIRST ATTENDANT. Let the young lion go, like a dear child, and I will give you something else to play with. CHILD. Where is it? Give it me first. [_Stretches out his hand_. KING. [_Looking at his hand_. How's that? His hand exhibits one of those mystic marks[84] which are the sure prognostic of universal empire. See! His fingers stretched in eager expectation To grasp the wished-for toy, and knit together By a close-woven web, in shape resemble A lotus blossom, whose expanding petals The early dawn has only half unfolded. SECOND ATTENDANT. We shall never pacify him by mere words, dear Suvratá. Be kind enough to go to my cottage, and you will find there a plaything belonging to Márkandeya, one of the hermit's children. It is a peacock made of china-ware, painted in many colours. Bring it here for the child. FIRST ATTENDANT. Very well. [_Exit_. CHILD. No, no; I shall go on playing with the young lion. [_Looks at the_ FEMALE ATTENDANT _and laughs_. KING. I feel an unaccountable affection for this wayward child. How blessed the virtuous parents whose attire Is soiled with dust, by raising from the ground The child that asks a refuge in their arms! And happy are they while with lisping prattle, In accents sweetly inarticulate, He charms their ears; and with his artless smiles Gladdens their hearts[119], revealing to their gaze His pearly teeth just budding into view. ATTENDANT. I see how it is. He pays me no manner of attention. [_Looking off the stage_.] I wonder whether any of the hermits are about here. [_ Seeing the_ KING.] Kind Sir, could you come hither a moment and help me to release the young lion from the clutch of this child who is teasing him in boyish play? KING. [_Approaching and smiling_. Listen to me, thou child of a mighty saint! Dost thou dare show a wayward spirit here? Here, in this hallowed region? Take thou heed Lest, as the serpent's young defiles the sandal[71], Thou bring dishonour on the holy sage Thy tender-hearted parent, who delights To shield from harm the tenants of the wood. ATTENDANT. Gentle Sir, I thank you; but he is not the saint's son. KING. His behaviour and whole bearing would have led me to doubt it, had not the place of his abode encouraged the idea. [_Follows the_ CHILD, _and takes him by the hand, according to the request of the attendant. Aside_. I marvel that the touch of this strange child Should thrill me with delight; if so it be, How must the fond caresses of a son Transport the father's soul who gave him being! ATTENDANT. [_Looking at them both_. Wonderful! Prodigious! KING. What excites your surprise, my good woman? ATTENDANT. I am astonished at the striking resemblance between the child and yourself; and, what is still more extraordinary, he seems to have taken to you kindly and submissively, though you are a stranger to him. KING. [_Fondling the_ CHILD. If he be not the son of the great sage, of what family does he come, may I ask? ATTENDANT. Of the race of Puru. KING. [_Aside_. What! are we, then, descended from the same ancestry? This, no doubt, accounts for the resemblance she traces between the child and me. Certainly it has always been an established usage among the princes of Puru's race, To dedicate the morning of their days To the world's weal, in palaces and halls, 'Mid luxury and regal pomp abiding; Then, in the wane of life, to seek release From kingly cares, and make the hallowed shade Of sacred trees their last asylum, where As hermits they may practise self-abasement, And bind themselves by rigid vows of penance. [_Aloud_.] But how could mortals by their own power gain admission to this sacred region? ATTENDANT. Your remark is just; but your wonder will cease when I tell you that his mother is the offspring of a celestial nymph, and gave him birth in the hallowed grove of Ka[s']yapa. KING. [_Aside_. Strange that my hopes should be again excited! [_Aloud_.] But what, let me ask, was the name of the prince whom she deigned to honour with her hand? ATTENDANT. How could I think of polluting my lips by the mention of a wretch who had the cruelty to desert his lawful wife? KING. [_Aside_. Ha! the description suits me exactly. Would I could bring myself to inquire the name of the child's mother! [_Reflecting_.] But it is against propriety to make too minute inquiries about the wife of another man[120]. FIRST ATTENDANT. [_Entering with the china peacock in her hand_. Sarva-damana, Sarva-damana, see, see, what a beautiful [S']akoonta (bird). CHILD. [_Looking round_. My mother! Where? Let me go to her. BOTH ATTENDANTS. He mistook the word [S']akoonta for [S']akoontalá. The boy dotes upon his mother, and she is ever uppermost in his thoughts. SECOND ATTENDANT. Nay, my dear child, I said: Look at the beauty of this [S']akoonta. KING. [_Aside_. What! is his mother's name [S']akoontalá? But the name is not uncommon among women. Alas! I fear the mere similarity of a name, like the deceitful vapour of the desert[94], has once more raised my hopes only to dash them to the ground. CHILD. Dear nurse, what a beautiful peacock! [_Takes the toy_. FIRST ATTENDANT. [_Looking at the CHILD. In great distress_. Alas! alas! I do not see the amulet on his wrist. KING. Don't distress yourself. Here it is. It fell off while he was struggling with the young lion. [_Stoops to pick it up_. BOTH ATTENDANTS. Hold! hold! Touch it not, for your life. How marvellous! He has actually taken it up without the slightest hesitation. [_Both raise their hands to their breasts and look at each other in astonishment_. KING. Why did you try to prevent my touching it? FIRST ATTENDANT. Listen, great Monarch. This amulet, known as 'The Invincible,' was given to the boy by the divine son of Maríchi, soon after his birth, when the natal ceremony was performed. Its peculiar virtue is, that when it falls on the ground, no one except the father or mother of the child can touch it unhurt. KING. And suppose another person touches it? FIRST ATTENDANT. Then it instantly becomes a serpent, and bites him. KING. Have you ever witnessed the transformation with your own eyes? BOTH ATTENDANTS. Over and over again. KING. [_With rapture. Aside_. Joy! joy! Are then my dearest hopes to be fulfilled? [_Embraces the CHILD_. SECOND ATTENDANT. Come, my dear Suvratá, we must inform [S']akoontalá immediately of this wonderful event, though we have to interrupt her in the performance of her religious vows. [_Exeunt_. CHILD. [_To the_ KING. Don't hold me. I want to go to my mother. KING. We will go to her together, and give her joy, my son. CHILD. Dushyanta is my father, not you. KING. [_Smiling_. His contradiction only convinces me the more. _Enter_ [S']AKOONTALÁ, _in widow's apparel, with her long hair twisted into a single braid_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. I have just heard that Sarva-damana's amulet has retained its form, though a stranger raised it from the ground. I can hardly believe in my good fortune. Yet why should not Sánumatí's prediction be verified? KING. Alas! can this indeed be my [S']akoontalá? Clad in the weeds of widowhood, her face Emaciate with fasting, her long hair Twined in a single braid[121], her whole demeanour Expressive of her purity of soul; With patient constancy she thus prolongs The vow to which my cruelty condemned her. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Gazing at the_ KING, _who is pale with remorse_. Surely this is not like my husband; yet who can it be that dares pollute by the pressure of his hand my child, whose amulet should protect him from a stranger's touch? CHILD. [_Going to his mother_. Mother, who is this man that has been kissing me and calling me his son? KING. My best beloved, I have indeed treated thee most cruelly, but am now once more thy fond and affectionate lover. Refuse not to acknowledge me as thy husband. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. Be of good cheer, my heart. The anger of Destiny is at last appeased. Heaven regards thee with compassion. But is he in very truth my husband? KING. Behold me, best and loveliest of women, Delivered from the cloud of fatal darkness That erst oppressed my memory. Again Behold us brought together by the grace Of the great lord of Heaven. So the moon Shines forth from dim eclipse [122], to blend his rays With the soft lustre of his Rohiní. [S']AKOONTALÁ. May my husband be victorious-- [_She stops short, her voice choked with tears_. KING. O fair one, though the utterance of thy prayer Be lost amid the torrent of thy tears, Yet does the sight of thy fair countenance And of thy pallid lips, all unadorned[123] And colourless in sorrow for my absence, Make me already more than conqueror. CHILD. Mother, who is this man? [S']AKOONTALÁ. My child, ask the deity that presides over thy destiny. KING. [_Falling at_ [S']AKOONTALÁ's _feet_. Fairest of women, banish from thy mind The memory of my cruelty; reproach The fell delusion that o'erpowered my soul, And blame not me, thy husband; 'tis the curse Of him in whom the power of darkness[124] reigns, That he mistakes the gifts of those he loves For deadly evils. Even though a friend Should wreathe a garland on a blind man's brow, Will he not cast it from him as a serpent? [S']AKOONTALÁ. Rise, my own husband, rise. Thou wast not to blame. My own evil deeds, committed in a former state of being[37], brought down this judgment upon me. How else could my husband, who was ever of a compassionate disposition, have acted so unfeelingly? [_The_ KING _rises_.] But tell me, my husband, how did the remembrance of thine unfortunate wife return to thy mind? KING. As soon as my heart's anguish is removed, and its wounds are healed, I will tell thee all. Oh! let me, fair one, chase away the drop That still bedews the fringes of thine eye; And let me thus efface the memory Of every tear that stained thy velvet cheek, Unnoticed and unheeded by thy lord, When in his madness he rejected thee. [_Wipes away the tear_. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Seeing the signet-ring on his finger_. Ah! my dear husband, is that the Lost Ring? KING. Yes; the moment I recovered it my memory was restored. [S']AKOONTALÁ. The ring was to blame in allowing itself to be lost at the very time when I was anxious to convince my noble husband of the reality of my marriage. KING. Receive it back, as the beautiful twining-plant receives again its blossom in token of its reunion with the spring. [S']AKOONTALÁ. Nay; I can never more place confidence in it. Let my husband retain it. [_Enter_ MÁTALI. MÁTALI. I congratulate your Majesty. Happy are you in your reunion with your wife; happy are you in beholding the face of your own son. KING. Yes, indeed. My heart's dearest wish has borne sweet fruit. But tell me, Mátali, is this joyful event known to the great Indra? MÁTALI. [_Smiling_. What is unknown to the gods? But come with me, noble Prince, the divine Ka[s']yapa graciously permits thee to be presented to him. KING. [S']akoontalá, take our child and lead the way. We will together go into the presence of the holy Sage. [S']AKOONTALÁ. I shrink from entering the august presence of the great Saint, even with my husband at my side. KING. Nay; on such a joyous occasion it is highly proper. Come, come; I entreat thee. [_All advance_. KA[S']YAPA _is discovered seated on a throne with his wife_ ADITI. KA[S']YAPA. [_Gazing at_ DUSHYANTA. _To his wife_. O Adití, This is the mighty hero, King Dushyanta, Protector of the earth; who, at the head Of the celestial armies of thy son, Does battle with the enemies of heaven. Thanks to his bow, the thunderbolt of Indra Rests from its work, no more the minister Of death and desolation to the world, But a mere symbol of divinity. ADITI. He bears in his noble form all the marks of dignity. MÁTALI. [_To_ DUSHYANTA Sire, the venerable progenitors of the celestials are gazing at your Majesty with as much affection as if you were their son. You may advance towards them. KING. Are these, O Mátali, the holy pair, Offspring of Daksha and divine Maríchi, Children of Brahmá's sons[125], by sages deemed Sole fountain of celestial light, diffused Through twelve effulgent orbs [114]? Are these the pair From whom the ruler of the triple world [126], Sovereign of gods and lord of sacrifice, Sprang into being? That immortal pair Whom Vishnu, greater than the Self-existent [127], Chose for his parents, when, to save mankind, He took upon himself the shape of mortals? MÁTALI. Even so. KING. [_Prostrating himself_. Most august of beings! Dushyanta, content to have fulfilled the commands of your son Indra, offers you his adoration. KA[S']YAPA. My son, long may'st thou live, and happily may'st thou reign over the earth! ADITI. My son, may'st thou ever be invincible in the field of battle! [S']AKOONTALÁ. I also prostrate myself before you, most adorable Beings, and my child with me. KA[S']YAPA. My daughter, Thy lord resembles Indra, and thy child Is noble as Jayanta, Indra's son; I have no worthier blessing left for thee, May'st thou be faithful as the god's own wife! ADITI. My daughter, may'st thou be always the object of thy husband's fondest love; and may thy son live long to be the joy of both his parents! Be seated. [_All sit down in the presence of KA[S']YAPA_. KA[S']YAPA. [_Regarding each of them by turns_. Hail to the beautiful [S']akoontalá, Hail to her noble son, and hail to thee, Illustrious Prince--rare triple combination Of virtue, wealth, and energy united! KING. Most venerable Ka[s']yapa, by your favour all my desires were accomplished even before I was admitted to your presence. Never was mortal so honoured that his boon should be granted ere it was solicited. Because-- Bloom before fruit, the clouds before the rain, Cause first and then effect, in endless sequence, Is the unchanging law of constant nature; But, ere the blessing issued from thy lips, The wishes of my heart were all fulfilled. MÁTALI. It is thus that the great progenitors of the world confer favours. KING. Most reverend Sage, this thy handmaid was married to me by the Gándharva ceremony[55], and after a time was conducted to my palace by her relations. Meanwhile a fatal delusion seized me; I lost my memory and rejected her, thus committing a grievous offence against the venerable Kanwa, who is of thy divine race. Afterwards the sight of this ring restored my faculties, and brought back to my mind all the circumstances of my union with his daughter. But my conduct still seems to me incomprehensible; As foolish as the fancies of a man Who, when he sees an elephant, denies That 'tis an elephant; then afterwards, When its huge bulk moves onward, hesitates; Yet will not be convinced till it has passed For ever from his sight, and left behind No vestige of its presence save its footsteps. KA[S']YAPA. My son, cease to think thyself in fault. Even the delusion that possessed thy mind was not brought about by any act of thine. Listen to me. KING. I am attentive. KA[S']YAPA. Know that when the nymph Menaká, the mother of [S']akoontalá, became aware of her daughter's anguish in consequence of the loss of the ring at the nymph's pool, and of thy subsequent rejection of her, she brought her and confided her to the care of Adití. And I no sooner saw her than I ascertained by my divine faculty of meditation[134], that thy repudiation of thy poor faithful wife had been caused entirely by the curse of Durvásas--not by thine own fault--and that the spell would terminate on the discovery of the ring. KING. [_Drawing a deep breath_. Oh! what a weight is taken off my mind, now that my character is cleared of reproach. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. Joy! joy! My revered husband did not, then, reject me without good reason, though I have no recollection of the curse pronounced upon me. But, in all probability, I unconsciously brought it upon myself, when I was so distracted on being separated from my husband soon after our marriage. For I now remember that my two friends advised me not to fail to show the ring in case he should have forgotten me. KA[S']YAPA. At last, my daughter, thou art happy, and hast gained thy heart's desire. Indulge, then, no feeling of resentment against thy consort. See, now, Though he repulsed thee, 'twas the sage's curse That clouded his remembrance; 'twas the curse That made thy tender husband harsh towards thee. Soon as the spell was broken, and his soul Delivered from its darkness, in a moment, Thou didst regain thine empire o'er his heart. So on the tarnished surface of a mirror No image is reflected, till the dust, That dimmed its wonted lustre, is removed. KING. Holy father, see here the hope of my royal race. [_Takes his child by the hand_. KA[S']YAPA. Know that he, too, will become the monarch of the wholes earth. Observe, Soon, a resistless hero, shall he cross The trackless ocean, borne above the waves In an aërial car; and shall subdue The earth's seven sea-girt isles[128]. Now has he gained, As the brave tamer of the forest-beasts, The title Sarva-damana; but then Mankind shall hail him as King Bharata[129], And call him the supporter of the world. KING. We cannot but entertain the highest hopes of a child for whom your Highness performed the natal rites. ADITI. My revered husband, should not the intelligence be conveyed to Kanwa, that his daughter's wishes are fulfilled, and her happiness complete? He is [S']akoontalá's foster-father. Menaká, who is one of my attendants, is her mother, and dearly does she love her daughter. [S']AKOONTALÁ. [_Aside_. The venerable matron has given utterance to the very wish that was in my mind. KA[S']YAPA. His penances have gained for him the faculty of omniscience, and the whole scene is already present to his mind's eye. KING. Then most assuredly he cannot be very angry with me. KA[S']YAPA. Nevertheless, it becomes us to send him intelligence of this happy event, and hear his reply. What ho there! PUPIL. [_Entering_. Holy father, what are your commands? KA[S']YAPA. My good Gálava, delay not an instant, but hasten through the air and convey to the venerable Kanwa, from me, the happy news that the fatal spell has ceased, that Dushyanta's memory is restored, that his daughter [S']akoontalá has a son, and that she is once more tenderly acknowledged by her husband. PUPIL. Your Highness' commands shall be obeyed. [_Exit_. KA[S']YAPA. And now, my dear son, take thy consort and thy child, re-ascend the car of Indra, and return to thy imperial capital. KING. Most holy father, I obey. KA[S']YAPA. And accept this blessing-- For countless ages may the god of gods, Lord of the atmosphere, by copious showers Secure abundant harvests to thy subjects; And thou by frequent offerings preserve The Thunderer's friendship. Thus, by interchange Of kindly actions may you both confer Unnumbered benefits on earth and heaven. KING. Holy father, I will strive, as far as I am able, to attain this happiness. KA[S']YAPA. What other favour can I bestow on thee, my son? KING. What other can I desire? If, however, you permit me to form another wish, I would humbly beg that the saying of the sage Bharata[130] be fulfilled: May kings reign only for their subjects' weal; May the divine Saraswatí[131], the source Of speech, and goddess of dramatic art, Be ever honoured by the great and wise; And may the purple self-existent god[132], Whose vital Energy[133] pervades all space, From future transmigrations save my soul. [_Exeunt omnes_. NOTES: 1. _Í[S']a preserve you_. That is, 'the Lord,' a name given to the god Siva, when regarded as supreme. As presiding over dissolution he is associated with Brahmá the Creator, and Vishnu the Preserver; constituting with them the Hindú Triad. Kálidása indulges the religious predilections of his fellow-townsmen by beginning and ending the play with a prayer to [S']iva, who had a large temple in Ujjayiní, the modern Oujein, the city of Vikramáditya, situated north-eastward from Gujarát. 2. _In these eight forms_. The worshippers of Siva, who were Pantheists in the sense of believing that [S']iva was himself all that exists, as well as the cause of all that is, held that there were eight different manifestations of their god, called Rudras; and that these had their types in the eight visible forms enumerated here. The Hindús reckon five elements. The most subtle is Ether (_ákása_), supposed to convey sound, which is its peculiar attribute or property (_guna_). The next element--Air, has for its properties sound and feeling. The third--Fire, has sound, feeling, and colour. The fourth--Water, has sound, feeling, colour, and taste. The fifth--Earth, has all the other properties, with the addition of smell. 3. _An audience of educated and discerning men_. Lit. 'An audience, who are chiefly men of education and discernment.' Few could have been present at these dramatic representations excepting learned and educated men. The mass of the composition being in Sanskrit, would not have been intelligible to the vulgar and illiterate. 4. _[S']akoontalá; or, The Lost Ring_. The literal title is '[S']akoontalá recognized by the token or ring.' 5. _The present Summer season_. Hindú poets divide the year into six seasons of two months each, viz. I. Spring (Vasanta), beginning about the middle of March; or, according to some, February. 2. Summer (Gríshma). 3. Rains (Varsha). 4. Autumn (Sarad). 5. Winter (Hemanta). 6. Dews (Sisira). Practically, however, there are only three seasons in India, 1. The hot season. 2. The rains. 3. The cold weather. In Lower Bengal and Behar, the first of these seasons begins in March, the second in June, and the third in November. The temperature of the cold season is highly exhilarating, and the climate is then superior to that of any portion of the English year. In Calcutta, this season continues for about three months; in Upper India, for about five; and in the Panjáb for about seven. The rains in Bengal Proper are more violent and protracted than in Hindústán and the Panjáb. In the latter country they last for hardly more than two months, and even then only fall at intervals. Plays were acted on solemn and festive occasions, on lunar holidays, and especially at the changes of the season. 6. _Of fragrant Pátalas_. The Pátala or trumpet-flower; _Bignonia suaveolens_. 7. _With sweet [S']irísha flowers_. The flowers of the _Acacia Sírisha_ were used by the Hindú women as ear-ornaments. 8. _King Dushyanta_. For the genealogy of King Dushyanta see Introduction, page xxxviii. 9. _That wields the trident_. [S']iva is called Pinákin, that is, 'armed with a trident,' or according to some, a bow named Pináka. Siva not being invited to Daksha's sacrifice, was so indignant, that, with his wife, he suddenly presented himself, confounded the sacrifice, dispersed the gods, and chasing Yajna, 'the lord of sacrifice,' who fled in the form of a deer, overtook and decapitated him. 10. _Their waving plumes, that late Fluttered above their brows, are motionless._ The Chámarí, or chowrie, formed of the white bushy tail of the Yak, or _Bos grunniens_, was placed as an ornament between the ears of horses, like the plume of the war-horse of chivalry. The velocity of the chariot caused it to lose its play, and appear fixed in one direction, like a flag borne rapidly against the wind. 11. _The steeds of Indra and the Sun._ That is, the speed of the chariot resembled that of the Wind and the Sun. Indra was the god of the firmament or atmosphere--the Jupiter Tonans of Hindú mythology--and presided over the forty-nine Winds. He has a heaven of his own (Swarga), of which he is the lord, and, although inferior to the three great deities of the Hindú Triad (Brahmá, Vishnu, and Siva), he is chief of the secondary gods. The Hindús represent the Sun as seated in a chariot, drawn by seven green horses, having before him a lovely youth without legs, who acts as his charioteer, and who is Aruna, or the Dawn personified. 12. _Puru's race_. See Dushyanta's pedigree detailed at page xxxviii of the Introduction. 13. _The great sage Kanwa_. The sage Kanwa was a descendant of Kasyapa, whom the Hindús consider to have been the father of the inferior gods, demons, man, fish, reptiles, and all animals, by his twelve wives. Kanwa was the chief of a number of devotees, or hermits, who had constructed a hermitage on the banks of the river Máliní, and surrounded it with gardens and groves, where penitential rites were performed, and animals were reared for sacrificial purposes, or for the amusement of the inmates. There is nothing new in asceticism. The craving after self-righteousness, and the desire of acquiring merit by self-mortification, is an innate principle of the human heart, and ineradicable even by Christianity. Witness the monastic institutions of the Romish Church, of which Indian penance-groves were the type. The Superior of a modern Convent is but the antitype of Kanwa; and what is Romanism but humanity developing itself in some of its most inveterate propensities? 14. _He has gone to Soma tírtha_. A place of pilgrimage in the west of India, on the coast of Gujarát, near the temple of Somanáth, or Somnát, made notorious by its gates, which were brought back from Ghazní by Lord Ellenborough's orders in 1842, and are now to be seen in the arsenal at Agra. These places of pilgrimage were generally fixed on the bank of some sacred stream, or in the vicinity of some holy spring. The word _tírtha_ is derived from a Sanskrit root, _trí_, 'to cross,' implying that the river has to be passed through, either for the washing away of sin, or extrication from some adverse destiny. Thousands of devotees still flock to the most celebrated Tírthas on the Ganges, at Benares, Haridwár, etc. 15. _Ingudí_. A tree, commonly called Ingua, or Jiyaputa, from the fruit of which oil was extracted, which the devotees used for their lamps and for ointment. One synonym for this tree is _tápasa-taru_, 'the anchorite's tree.' 16. _Bark-woven vests_. Dresses made of bark, worn by ascetics, were washed in water, and then suspended to dry on the branches of trees. 17. _By deep canals_. It was customary to dig trenches round the roots of trees, to collect the rain-water. 18. _My throbbing arm_. A quivering sensation in the right arm was supposed by the Hindús to prognosticate union with a beautiful woman. Throbbings of the arm or eyelid, if felt on the right side, were omens of good fortune in men; if on the left, bad omens. The reverse was true of women. 19. _The hard acacia's stem_. The Samí tree, a kind of acacia (_Acacia Suma_), the wood of which is very hard, and supposed by the Hindús to contain fire. 20. _The lotus_. This beautiful plant, the varieties of which, white, blue, and red, are numerous, bears some resemblance to our water-lily. It is as favourite a subject of allusion and comparison with Hindú poets as the rose is with Persian. 21. _With the Saivala entwined_. The [S']aivala (_Vallisneria_) is an aquatic plant, which spreads itself over ponds, and interweaves itself with the lotus. The interlacing of its stalks is compared in poetry to braided hair. 22. _Yon Ke[s']ara tree_. The Ke[s']ara tree (_Mimusops elengi_) is the same as the Bakula, frequent mention of which is made is some of the Puránas. It bears a strong-smelling flower, which, according to Sir W. Jones, is ranked among the flowers of the Hindú paradise. The tree Is very ornamental in pleasure-grounds. 23. _Would that my union with her were permissible_. A Bráhman might marry a woman of the military or kingly class next below him, and the female offspring of such a marriage would belong to a mixed caste, and might be lawfully solicited in marriage by a man of the military class. But if [S']akoontalá were a pure Bráhmaní woman, both on the mother's and father's side, she would be ineligible as the wife of a Kshatriya king. Dushyanta discovers afterwards that she was, in fact, the daughter of the great Vi[s']wámitra (see note 27), who was of the same caste as himself, though her mother was the nymph Menaká. 24. _I trust all is well with your devotional rites_. This was the regular formula of salutation addressed to persons engaged in religions exercises. 25. _This water that we have brought with us will serve to bathe our guest's feet_. Water for the feet is one of the first things invariably provided for a guest in all Eastern countries. Compare Genesis xxiv. 32; Luke vii. 44. If the guest were a Bráhman, or a man of rank, a respectful offering (_argha_) of rice, fruit, and flowers was next presented. In fact, the rites of hospitality in India were enforced by very stringent regulations. The observance of them ranked as one of the five great sacred rites, and no punishment was thought too severe for one who violated them. If a guest departed unhonoured from a house, his sins were to be transferred to the householder, and all the merits of the householder were to be transferred to him. 26. _Sapta-parna tree_. A tree having seven leaves on a stalk (_Echites scholaris_). 27. _Vis']wámitra, whose family name is Kausika_. In the Rámáyana, the great sage Vi[s']wámitra (both king and saint), who raised himself by his austerities from the regal to the Bráhmanical caste, is said to be the son of Gádhi, King of Kanúj, grandson of Kusanátha, and great-grandson of Kusika or Kusa. On his accession to the throne, in the room of his father Gádhi, in the course of a tour through his dominions, he visited the hermitage of the sage Vasishtha, where the Cow of Plenty, a cow granting all desires, excited his cupidity. He offered the sage untold treasures for the cow; but being refused, prepared to take it by force. A long war ensued between the king and the sage (symbolical of the struggles between the military and Bráhmanical classes), which ended in the defeat of Vi[s']wámitra, whose vexation was such, that he devoted himself to austerities, in the hope of attaining the condition of a Bráhman. The Rámáyana recounts how, by gradually increasing the rigour of his penance through thousands of years, he successively earned the title of Royal Sage, Sage, Great Sage, and Bráhman Sage. It was not till he had gained this last title that Vasishtha consented to acknowledge his equality with himself, and ratify his admission into the Bráhmanical state. It was at the time of Vi[s']wámitra's advancement to the rank of a Sage, and whilst he was still a Kshatriya, that Indra, jealous of his increasing power, sent the nymph Menaká to seduce him from his life of mortification and continence. The Rámáyana records his surrender to this temptation, and relates that the nymph was his companion in the hermitage for ten years, but does not allude to the birth of [S']akoontalá during that period. 28. _The inferior gods, I am aware, are jealous_. According to the Hindú system, Indra and the other inferior deities were not the possessors of Swarga, or heaven, by indefeasible right. They accordingly viewed with jealousy, and even alarm, any extraordinary persistency by a human being in acts of penance, as it raised him to a level with themselves; and, if carried beyond a certain point, enabled him to dispossess them of Paradise. Indra was therefore the enemy of excessive self-mortification, and had in his service numerous nymphs who were called his 'weapons,' and whose business it was to impede by their seductions the devotion of holy men. 29. _Gautamí_. The name of the matron or Superior of the female part of the society of hermits. Every association of religious devotees seems to have included a certain number of women, presided over by an elderly and venerable matron, whose authority resembled that of an abbess in a convent of nuns. 30. _Ku[s']a-grass_. This grass was held sacred by the Hindús, and was abundantly used in all their religions ceremonies. Its leaves are very long, and taper to a sharp needle-like point, of which the extreme acuteness was proverbial; whence the epithet applied to a clever man, 'sharp as the point of Ku[s']a-grass.' Its botanical name is _Poa cynosuroïdes_. 31. _Kuruvaka._ A species of Jhintí or Barleria, with purple flowers, and covered with sharp prickles. 32. _The Jester_. See an account of this character in the Introduction, p. xxxiv. 33. _We have nothing to eat but roast game_. Indian game is often very dry and flavourless. 34. _Attended by the Yavana women_. Who these women were has not been accurately ascertained. Yavana is properly Arabia, but is also a name applied to Greece. The Yavana women were therefore either natives of Arabia, or Greece, and their business was to attend upon the king, and take charge of his weapons, especially his bow and arrows. Professor H. H. Wilson, in his translation of the Vikramorva[s']í, where the same word occurs (Act V. p. 261), remarks that Tartarian or Bactrian women may be intended. 35. _In the disc of crystal_. That is, the sun-gem (_Súrya-kánta_, 'beloved by the sun'), a shining stone resembling crystal. Professor Wilson calls it a fabulous stone with fabulous properties, and mentions another stone, the moon-gem (_chandra-kánta_). It may be gathered from this passage that the sun-stone was a kind of glass lens, and that the Hindús were not ignorant of the properties of this instrument at the time when '[S']akoontalá' was written. 36. _Some fallen blossoms of the jasmine_. The jasmine here intended was a kind of double jasmine with a very delicious perfume, sometimes called 'Arabian jasmine' (_Jasminum zambac_). It was a delicate plant, and, as a creeper, would depend on some other tree for support. The Arka, or sun-tree (Gigantic Asclepias: _Calotropis gigantea_), on the other hand, was a large and vigorous shrub. Hence the former is compared to [S']akoontalá, the latter to the sage Kanwa. 37. _The mellowed fruit Of virtuous actions in some former birth_. The doctrine of the transmigration of the soul from one body to another is an essential dogma of the Hindú religion, and connected with it is the belief in the power which every human being possesses of laying up for himself a store of merit by good deeds performed in the present and former births. Indeed the condition of every person is supposed to derive its character of happiness or misery, elevation or degradation, from the virtues or vices of previous states of being. The consequences of actions in a former birth are called _vipáka_; they may be either good or bad, but are rarely unmixed with evil taint. In the present comparison, however, they are described as pure and unalloyed. With reference to the first four lines of this stanza, compare Catullus, Carmen Nuptiale, verse 39. 'Ut flos in septis secretus nascitur hortis, Ignotus pecori, nullo contusus aratro, Quem mulcent auræ, firmat sol, educat imber: Multi illuum pueri, multæ optavere puellæ: Idem quum tenui carptus defloruit ungui, Nulli illum pueri, nallæ optavere puellæ: Sic virgo, dum intacta manet,' etc. 38. _The sixth part of their grain_. According to Manu, a king might take a sixth part of liquids, flowers, roots, fruit, grass, etc.; but, even though dying with want, he was not to receive any tax from a Bráhman learned in the Vedas. 39. _A title only one degree removed from that of a Sage_. Dushyanta was a Rájarshi; that is, a man of the military class who had attained the rank of Royal Sage or Saint by the practice of religious austerities. The title of Royal or Imperial Sage was only one degree inferior to that of Sage. Compare note 27. 40. _Chanted by inspired bards_. Or celestial minstrels, called Gandharvas. These beings were the musicians of Indra's heaven, and their business was to amuse the inhabitants of Swarga by singing the praises of gods, saints, or heroes. Compare note 11. 41. _In their fierce warfare with the powers of hell_. Indra and the other inferior gods (compare note 11) were for ever engaged in hostilities with their half-brothers, the demons called Daityas, who were the giants or Titans of Hindú mythology. On such occasions the gods seem to have depended very much upon the assistance they received from mortal heroes. 42. _Evil demons are disturbing our sacrificial rites_. The religious rites and sacrifices of holy men were often disturbed by certain evil spirits or goblins called Rákshasas, who were the determined enemies of piety and devotion. No great sacrifice or religious ceremony was ever carried on without an attempt on the part of these demons to impede its celebration; and the most renowned saints found it necessary on such occasions to acknowledge their dependence on the strong arm of the military class, by seeking the aid of warriors and heroes. The inability of holy men, who had attained the utmost limit of spiritual power, to cope with the spirits of evil, and the superiority of physical force in this respect, is very remarkable. 43. _Vishnu_. Vishnu, the Preserver, was one of the three gods of the Hindú Triad. He became incarnate in various forms for the good of mortals, and is the great enemy of the demons. 14 _Like king Tri[s']anku_. The story of this monarch is told in the Rámáyana. He is there described as a just and pious prince of the solar race, who aspired to celebrate a great sacrifice, hoping thereby to ascend to heaven in his mortal body. After various failures he had recourse to Vi[s']wámitra, who undertook to conduct the sacrifice, and invited all the gods to be present. They, however, refused to attend; upon which the enraged Vi[s']wámitra, by his own power, transported Tri[s']anku to the skies, whither he had no sooner arrived than he was hurled down again by Indra and the gods; but being arrested in his downward course by the sage, he remained suspended between heaven and earth, forming a constellation in the southern hemisphere. 45. _Ointment of Usíra-root_. The root of a fragrant grass (_Andropogon muricatum_), from which a cooling ointment was made. 46. _The very breath of his nostrils_. Compare Lam. iv. 20. 'The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of the Lord, was taken.' 47. _God of the flowery shafts_. The Hindú Cupid, or god of love (Káma), is armed with a bow made of sugar-cane, the string of which consists of bees. He has five arrows, each tipped with the blossom of a flower, which pierce the heart through the five senses; and his favourite arrow is pointed with the _chita_, or mango-flower. 48. _E'en now in thy unbodied essence lurks The fire of [S']iva's anger_. The story is thus told in the Rámáyana. Káma (Cupid) once approached [S']iva that he might influence him with love for his wife, Párvatí. [S']iva happened then to be practising austerities, and intent on a vow of chastity. He therefore cursed the god of love in a terrible voice, and at the same time a flash from his eye caused the god's body to shrivel into ashes. Thus Káma was made incorporeal, and from that time was called 'the bodiless one.' 49. _Like the flame, That ever hidden in the secret depths Of ocean, smoulders there unseen_. This submarine fire was called Aurva, from the following fable. The Rishi Aurva, who had gained great power by his austerities, was pressed by the gods and others to perpetuate his race. He consented, but warned them that his offspring would consume the world. Accordingly, he created from his thigh a devouring fire, which, as soon as it was produced, demanded nourishment, and would have destroyed the whole earth, had not Brahmá appeared and assigned the ocean as its habitation, and the waves as its food. The spot where it entered the sea was called 'the mare's mouth.' Doubtless the story was invented to suit the phenomenon of some marine volcano, which may have exhaled through the water bituminous inflammable gas, and which, perhaps in the form of a horse's mouth, was at times visible above the sea. 50 _Who on his 'scutcheon bears the monster-fish_. The Hindú Cupid is said to have subdued a marine monster, which was, therefore, painted on his banner. 51 _The graceful undulation of her gait_. _Hansa-gáminí_, 'walking like a swan,' was an epithet for a graceful woman. The Indian lawgiver, Manu, recommends that a Bráhman should choose for his wife a young maiden, whose gait was like that of a phoenicopter, or flamingo, or even like that of a young elephant. The idea in the original is, that the weight of her hips had caused the peculiar appearance observable in the print of her feet. Largeness of the hips was considered a great beauty in Hindú women, and would give an undulatory motion to their walk. 52 _The Mádhaví_. A large and beautiful creeper (_Gaertnera racemosa_), bearing white, fragrant flowers, to which constant allusion is made in Sanskrit plays. 53 _Pines to be united with the Moon_. A complete revolution of the moon, with respect to the stars, being made in twenty-seven days, odd hours, the Hindús divide the heavens into twenty-seven constellations (asterisms) or lunar stations, one of which receives the moon for one day in each of his monthly journeys. As the Moon, Chandra, is considered to be a masculine deity, the Hindús fable these twenty-seven constellations as his wives, and personify them as the daughters of Daksha. Of these twenty-seven wives, twelve of whom give names to the twelve months, Chandra is supposed to show the greatest affection for the fourth, Rohiní; but each of the others, and amongst them Vi[s']ákhá, is represented as jealous of this partiality, and eager to secure the Moon's favour for herself, Dushyanta probably means to compare himself to the Moon (he being of the Lunar race) and [S']akoontalá to Vi[s']ákhá. 54. _Checks its fall_. Owing to emaciation and disuse of the bow, the callosities on the forearm, usually caused by the bow-string, were not sufficiently prominent to prevent the bracelet from slipping down from the wrist to the elbow, when the arm was raised to support the head. This is a favourite idea with Kálidása to express the attenuation caused by love. 55. _No nuptial rites prevail_. A marriage without the usual ceremonies is called Gándharva. It was supposed to be the form of marriage prevalent among the nymphs of India's heaven. In the 3rd Book of Manu (v. 22), it is included among the various marriage rites, and is said to be a union proceeding entirely from love, or mutual inclination, and concluded without any religious services, and without consulting relatives. It was recognized as a legal marriage by Manu and other lawgivers, though it is difficult to say in what respect it differed from unlawful cohabitation. 56. _The loving birds doomed by fate to nightly separation_. That is, the male and female of the Chakraváka, commonly called Chakwa and Chakwí, or Bráhmaní duck (_Anas casarca_). These birds associate together during the day, and are, like turtle-doves, patterns of connubial affection; but the legend is, that they are doomed to pass the night apart, in consequence of a curse pronounced upon them by a saint whom they had offended. As soon as night commences, they take up their station on the opposite banks of a river, and call to each other in piteous cries. The Bengálís consider their flesh to be a good medicine for fever. 57. _The great sage Durvásas_. A Saint or Muni, represented by the Hindú poets as excessively choleric and inexorably severe. The Puránas and other poems contain frequent accounts of the terrible effects of his imprecations on various occasions, the slightest offence being in his eyes deserving of the most fearful punishment. On one occasion he cursed Indra, merely because his elephant let fall a garland he had given to this god; and in consequence of this imprecation all plants withered, men ceased to sacrifice, and the gods were overcome in their wars with the demons. 58. _Propitiatory offering_. Compare note 25. 59. _His blushing charioteer_. Compare note 11. 60. _Night-loving lotus_. Some species of the lotus, especially the white esculent kind, open their petals during the night, and close them during the day, whence the moon is often called the 'lover, or lord of the lotuses.' 61. _The very centre of the sacred fire_. Fire was an important object of veneration with the Hindús, as with the ancient Persians. Perhaps the chief worship recognized in the Vedas is that of Fire and the Sun. The holy fire was deposited in a hallowed part of the house, or in a sacred building, and kept perpetually burning. Every morning and evening, oblations were offered to it by dropping clarified butter and other substances into the flame, accompanied with prayers and invocations. 62. _As in the sacred tree the mystic fire_. Literally, 'as the [S']ami-tree is pregnant with fire.' The legend is, that the goddess Párvatí, being one day under the influence of love, reposed on a trunk of this tree, whereby a sympathetic warmth was generated in the pith or interior of the wood, which ever after broke into a sacred flame on the slightest attrition. 63 _Hastinápur_. The ancient Delhi, situated on the Ganges, and the capital of Dushyanta. Its site is about fifty miles from the modern Delhi, which is on the Jumná, 64 _E'en as Yayáti [S']armishthá adored_, [S']armishthá was the daughter of Vrishaparvan, king of the demons, and wife of Yayáti, son of Nahusha, one of the princes of the Lunar dynasty, and ancestor of Dushyanta. Puru was the son of Yayáti, by [S']armishthá. 65 _And for whose encircling bed, Sacred Kusa-grass is spread_. At a sacrifice, sacred fires were lighted at the four cardinal points, and Ku[s']a-grass was scattered around each fire, 66 _Koïl_, The Koïl, or Kokil, is the Indian cuckoo. It is sometimes called Para-bhrita ('nourished by another'). because the female is known to leave her eggs in the nest of the crow to be hatched. The bird is as great a favourite with Indian poets as the nightingale with European. One of its names is 'Messenger of Spring.' Its note is a constant subject of allusion, and is described as beautifully sweet, and, if heard on a journey, indicative of good fortune. Everything, however, is beautiful by comparison. The song of the Koïl is not only very dissimilar, but very inferior to that of the nightingale, 67 _The peacock on the lawn Ceases its dance_, The Indian peacock is very restless, especially at the approach of rain, in which it is thought to take delight. Its circular movements are a frequent subject of allusion with Hindú poets, and are often by them compared to dancing. 68. _The moonlight of the grove_. The name of [S']akoontalá's favourite jasmine, spoken of in the 1st Act. See page 15 of this volume. 69. _Fig-tree_. Not the Banyan-tree (_Ficus Indica_), nor the Pippala (_Ficus religiosa_), but the Glomerous Fig-tree (_Ficus glomerata_), which yields a resinous milky juice from its bark, and is large enough to afford abundant shade. 70. _The poor female Chakraváka_. Compare note 56. 71. _Like a young tendril of the sandal-tree torn from its home in the western mountains_. The sandal is a kind of large myrtle with pointed leaves (_Sirium myrtifolium_). The wood affords many highly esteemed perfumes, unguents, etc., and is celebrated for its delicious scent. It is chiefly found on the slopes of the Malaya mountain or Western Ghauts on the Malabar coast. The roots of the tree are said to be infested with snakes. Indeed it seems to pay dearly for the fragrance of its wood: 'The root is infested by serpents, the blossoms by bees, the branches by monkeys, the summit by bears. In short there is not a part of the sandal-tree that is not occupied by the vilest impurities.' Hitopade[s']a, verse 162. 72. _The calm seclusion of thy former home_. 'When the father of a family perceives his own wrinkles and grey hair, committing the care of his wife to his sons, or accompanied by her, let him repair to the woods and become a hermit.'--Manu, vi. 2. It was usual for kings, at a certain time of life, to abdicate the throne in favour of the heir-apparent, and pass the remainder of their days in seclusion. 73. _A frequent offering to our household gods_. This was an offering (_bali_) in honour of those spiritual beings called 'household deities,' which were supposed to hover round and protect houses. It was made by throwing up into the air in some part of the house (generally at the door) the remains of the morning and evening meal of rice or grain, uttering at the same time a _mantra_, or prayer. 74. _In other states of being_. Dim recollections of occurrences in former states of existence are supposed occasionally to cross the mind. Compare note 37. 75. _The Chamberlain_. The attendant on the women's apartment. He is generally a Bráhman, and usually appears in the plays as a tottering and decrepit old man, leaning on his staff of office. 76. _The king of serpents on his thousand heads_. A mythological serpent, the personification of eternity, and king of the Nágas, or snakes, who inhabit Pátála, the lowermost of the seven regions below the earth. His body formed the couch of Vishnu, reposing on the waters of Chaos, whilst his thousand heads were the god's canopy. He is also said to uphold the world on one of his heads. 77. _The chamber of the consecrated fire_. Compare note 61. 78. _Two heralds_. These heralds were introduced into Hindú plays something in the same manner as a Chorus; and, although their especial duty was to announce, in measured verse, the periods of the day, and particularly the fixed divisions into which the king's day was divided, yet the strain which they poured forth frequently contained allusions to incidental circumstances. The royal office was no sinecure. From the Da[s']a-kumára, it appears that the day and night were each divided into eight portions of one hour and a half, reckoned from sunrise; and were thus distributed: Day--l. The king, being dressed, is to audit accounts; 2. He is to pronounce judgment in appeals; 3. He is to breakfast; 4. He is to receive and make presents; 5. He is to discuss political questions with his ministers; 6. He is to amuse himself; 7. He is to review his troops; 8. He is to hold a military council. Night--l. He is to receive the reports of his spies and envoys; 2. He is to sup or dine; 3. He is to retire to rest after the perusal of some sacred work; 4 and 5. He is to sleep; 6. He is to rise and purify himself; 7. He is to hold a private consultation with his ministers, and instruct his officers; 8. He is to attend upon the _Purohita_ or family priest, for the performance of religious ceremonies. See Wilson's Hindú Theatre, vol. i. p. 209. 79. _Feeling a quivering sensation in her right eyelid_. Compare note 18. 80. _The protector of the four classes of the people, the guardian of the four conditions of the priesthood_. A remarkable feature in the ancient Hindú social system, as depicted in the plays, was the division of the people into four classes or castes:--1st. The sacerdotal, consisting of the Bráhmans.--2nd. The military, consisting of fighting men, and including the king himself and the royal family. This class enjoyed great privileges, and must have been practically the most powerful.--3rd. The commercial, including merchants and husbandmen.--4th. The servile, consisting of servants and slaves. Of these four divisions the first alone has been preserved in its purity to the present day, although the Rájputs claim to be the representatives of the second class. The others have been lost in a multitude of mixed castes formed by intermarriage, and bound together by similarity of trade or occupation. With regard to the sacerdotal class, the Bráhmans, who formed it, were held to be the chief of all human beings; they were superior to the king, and their lives and property were protected by the most stringent laws. They were to divide their lives into four quarters, during which they passed through four states or conditions, viz. as religious students, as householders, as anchorites, and as religious mendicants. 81. _That he is pleased with ill-assorted unions_. The god Brahmá seems to have enjoyed a very unenviable notoriety as taking pleasure in ill-assorted marriages, and encouraging them by his own example in the case of his own daughter. 82. _[S']achí's sacred pool near Sakrávatára_. [S']akra is a name of the god Indra, and Sakrávatára is a sacred place of pilgrimage where he descended upon earth. [S']achí is his wife, to whom a _Urtha_, or holy bathing-place, was probably consecrated at the place where [S']akoontalá had performed her ablutions. Compare note 14. 83. _The wily Koïl_. Compare note 66. 84. _With the discus or mark of empire in the lines of his hand_. When the lines of the right hand formed themselves into a circle, it was thought to be the mark of a future hero or emperor. 85. _A most refined occupation, certainly!_ Spoken ironically. The occupation of a fisherman, and, indeed, any occupation which involved the sin of slaughtering animals, was considered despicable. Fishermen, butchers, and leather-sellers were equally objects of scorn. In Lower Bengal the castes of Jáliyás and Bágdis, who live by fishing, etc., are amongst the lowest, and eke out a precarious livelihood by thieving and dacoity. 86. _And he should not forsake it_. The great Hindú lawgiver is very peremptory in restricting special occupations (such as fishing, slaughtering animals, basket-making) to the mixed and lowest castes. 'A man of the lowest caste, who, through covetousness, lives by the acts of the highest, let the king strip of all his wealth and banish. His own business, though badly performed, is preferable to that of another, though well performed.'--Manu, x. 96. In the later Hindú system the sacrifice of animals is practised by the priests of the goddess Káli only. 87. _Carp_. That is, the Rohita, or Rohi (red) fish (_Cyprinus rohita_), a kind of carp found in lakes and ponds in the neighbourhood of the Ganges. It grows to the length of three feet, is very voracious, and its flesh, though it often has a muddy taste, is edible. Its back is olive-coloured, its belly of a golden hue, its fins and eyes red. This fish is often caught in tanks in Lower Bengal of the weight of twenty-five or thirty pounds. 88. _I long to begin binding the flowers round his head_. It is evident from the Málati-Mádhava, and other plays, that a victim, about to be offered as a sacrifice, had a wreath of flowers bound round the head. 89. _The great vernal festival_. In celebration of the return of Spring, and said to be in honour of Krishna, and of his son Káma-deva, the god of love. It is identified with the Holí or Dolá-yátra, the Saturnalia, or rather, Carnival of the Hindús, when people of all conditions take liberties with each other, especially by scattering red powder and coloured water on the clothes of persons passing in the street, as described in the play called Ratnávalí, where the crowd are represented as using syringes and waterpipes. Flowers, and especially the opening blossoms of the mango, would naturally be much employed for decoration at this festival, as an offering to the god of love. It was formerly held on the full moon of the month Chaitra, or about the beginning of April, but it is now celebrated on the full moon of Phálguna, or about the beginning of March. The other great Hindú festival, held in the autumn, about October, is called Durgá-pújá, being in honour of the goddess Durgá. The Holí festival is now so disfigured by unseemly practices and coarse jests that it is reprobated by the respectable natives, and will probably, in the course of time, either die out or be prohibited by legal enactment. 90. _Am not I named after the Koïl?_ Compare note 66. 91. _Thy fire unerring shafts_. Compare note 47. 92. _The amaranth_ That is, the Kuruvaka, either the crimson amaranth, or a purple species of _Barleria_. 93. _My finger burning with the glow of love_. However offensive to our notions of good taste, it is certain that, in Hindú erotic poetry, a hot hand is considered to be one of the signs of passionate love. Compare Othello, Act III. Scene 4. 'Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady--hot, hot, and moist.' 94. _The airy vapours of the desert_. A kind of mirage floating over waste places, and appearing at a distance like water. Travellers and some animals, especially deer, are supposed to be attracted and deceived by it. 95. _Himálaya_. The name of this celebrated range of mountains is derived from two Sanskrit words, _hima_, 'ice' or 'snow' (Lat. _hiems_), and _álaya_, 'abode.' The pronunciation Himalaya is incorrect. 96. _As [S']iva did the poison at the Deluge_. At the churning of the ocean, after the Deluge, by the gods and demons, for the recovery or production of fourteen sacred things, a deadly poison called Kála-kúta, or Halá-hala, was generated, so virulent that it would have destroyed the world, had not the god [S']iva swallowed it. Its only effect was to leave a dark blue mark on his throat, whence his name Níla-kantha. This name is also given to a beautiful bird, not wholly unlike our jay, common in Bengal. 97. _Palace of clouds_. The palace of King Dushyanta, so called because it was lofty as the clouds. 98. _The foreman of a guild belonging to Ayodhyá_. The chief of a guild or corporation of artisans practising the same trade. Ayodhyá, or the Invincible City, was the ancient capital of Rámachandra, founded by Ikshwáku, the first of the Solar dynasty. It was situated on the river Sarayu in the north of India, and is now called Oude. 99. _My ancestors Must drink these glistening tears, the last libation_. Oblations to the spirits of the deceased are offered by the nearest surviving relatives soon after the funeral ceremonies; and are repeated once in every year. They are supposed to be necessary to secure the well-being of the souls of the dead in the world appropriated to them. The oblation-ceremony is called [S']ráddha, and generally consisted in offering balls made of rice and milk, or in pouring out water, or water and sesamum-seed mixed. These ceremonies are still regarded as essential to the welfare of deceased persons, and their celebration is marked by magnificent feasts, to which relations and a host of Bráhmans are invited. A native who had grown rich in the time of Warren Hastings spent nine lakhs of rupees on his mother's [S']ráddha; and large sums are still spent on similar occasions by wealthy Hindús (see my 'Bráhmanism and Hindúism,' p. 306). 100. _The mother of the great Indra_. That is, Adití, the wife of Ka[s']yapa, with whom, in their sacred retreat, [S']akoontalá was enjoying an asylum. 101. _Distinguishes the milk from worthless water_. The Hindús imagine that the flamingo (a kind of goose) is the vehicle on which the god Brahmá is borne through the air; and that this bird, being fond of the pulpy fibres of the water-lily, has been gifted by him with the power of separating the milky from the watery portion of the juice contained in the stalk of that plant. 102. _Mátali_. The charioteer of Indra. In the pictures which represent this god mounted on his usual vehicle--an elephant called Aírávata--Mátali is seen seated before him on the withers of the animal, acting as its driver. In the plays, however, Indra is generally represented borne in a chariot drawn by two horses, guided by Mátali. 103. _Kálanemi_. A Daitya or demon, with a hundred arms and as many heads. 104. _Nárada_. A celebrated divine sage, usually reckoned among the ten patriarchs first created by Brahmá. He acted as a messenger of the gods. 105. _Tinged with celestial sandal from the breast_. The breast of Indra was dyed yellow with a fragrant kind of sandal-wood (_hari-chandana_); and the garland by rubbing against it, became tinged with the same color. Wreaths and garlands of flowers are much used by the Hindús as marks of honorary distinction, as well as for ornament or festive occasions. They are suspended round the neck. 106. _The ever-blooming tree of Nandana_. That is, Mandára, one of the five ever-blooming trees of Nandana, or Swarga, Indra's heaven. The two most celebrated of these trees were the Párijáta and the Kalpa-druma, or tree granting all desires. Each of the superior Hindú gods has a heaven, paradise, or elysium of his own. That of Brahmá is called Brahma-loka, situate on the summit of mount Meru; that of Vishnu is Vaikuntha, on the Himálayas; that of [S']iva and Kuvera is Kailása, also on the Himálayas; that of Indra is Swarga or Nandana. The latter, though properly on the summit of mount Meru, below Brahmá's paradise, is sometimes identified with the sphere of the sky or heaven in general. It is the only heaven of orthodox Bráhmanism. 107. _Jayanta_. The son of Indra by his favourite wife Paulomí or [S']achí. 108. _The Lion-man's terrific claws_. Vishnu, in the monstrous shape of a creature half man, half lion (his fourth Avatár or incarnation), delivered the three worlds, that is to say, Earth, Heaven, and the lower regions, from the tyranny of an insolent demon called Hiranya-ka[S']ipu. 109. _We journey in the path of Parivaha_. The Hindús divide the heavens into seven Márgas, paths or orbits, assigning a particular wind to each. The sixth of these paths is that of the Great Bear, and its peculiar wind is called Parivaha. This wind is supposed to bear along the seven stars of Ursa Major, and to propel the heavenly Ganges. 110. _The triple Ganges_. The Ganges was supposed to take its rise in the toe of Vishnu (whence one of its names, Vishnu-padí); thence it flowed through the heavenly sphere, being borne along by the wind Parivaha, and identified with the Mandákiní, or Milky Way. Its second course is through the earth; but the weight of its descent was borne by [S']iva's head, whence, after wandering among the tresses of his hair, it descended through a chasm in the Himálayas. Its third course is through Pátála, or the lower regions, the residence of the Daityas and Nágas, and not to be confounded with Naraka, 'hell,' 'the place of punishment.' 111. _He spanned the heavens in his second stride_. The story of Vishnu's second stride was this:--An Asura or Daitya, named Bali, had, by his devotions, gained the dominion of Heaven, Earth, and Pátála. Vishnu undertook to trick him out of his power, and assuming the form of a Vámana, or dwarf (his fifth Avatár), he appeared before the giant and begged as a boon as much land as he could pace in three steps. This was granted; and the god immediately expanded himself till he filled the world; deprived Bali, at the first step, of Earth; at the second, of Heaven; but, in consideration of some merit, left Pátála still under his rule. 112. _I see the moisture-loving Chátakas_. The Chátaka is a kind of Cuckoo (_Cuculus Melanoleucus_). The Hindús suppose that it drinks only the water of the clouds, and their poets usually introduce allusions to this bird in connexion with cloudy or rainy weather. 113. _Golden-peak_. A sacred range of mountains lying among the Himálaya chain, and apparently identical with, or immediately adjacent to, Kailása, the paradise of Kuvera, the god of wealth. It is here described as the mountain of the Kimpurashas, or servants of Kuvera. They are a dwarfish kind of monster, with the body of a man and the head of a horse, and are otherwise called Kinnara. 114. _Ka[s']yapa_. Ka[s']yapa was the son of Brahmá's son, Maríchi, and was one of those Patriarchs (created by Brahmá to supply the universe with inhabitants) who, after fulfilling their mission, retired from the world to practise penance. He was a progenitor on a magnificent scale, as he is considered to have been the father of the gods, demons, man, fish, reptiles, and all animals, by the thirteen daughters of Daksha. The eldest of the thirteen, his favourite wife, was Adití, from whom were born Indra and all the inferior gods, and particularly the twelve Ádityas, or forms of the sun, which represent him in the several months of the year. From Diti, Danu, and others of the remaining twelve, came the Daityas, Dánavas, and other demons. 115. _No sacred cord is twined_. The serpent's skin was used by the ascetic in place of the regular Bráhmanical cord. This thread or cord, sometimes called the sacrificial cord, might be made of various substances, such as cotton, hempen or woollen thread, according to the class of the wearer; and was worn over the left shoulder and under the right. The rite of investiture with this thread, which conferred the title of 'twice-born,' and corresponded in some respects with the Christian rite of baptism, was performed on youths of the first three classes (compare note 80), at ages varying from eight to sixteen, from eleven to twenty-two, and from twelve to twenty-four, respectively. At present the Bráhmans alone, and those who claim to be Kshatriyas, have a right to wear this thread. Not long since, a Káyath (or man of the writer caste) in Bengal, who attempted to claim it, was excommunicated. 116. _And birds construct their nests within its folds_. Such was the immovable impassiveness of this ascetic, that the ants had thrown up their mound as high as his waist without being disturbed, and birds had built their nests in his hair. 117. _And need no other nourishment_. The Hindús imagine that living upon air is a proof of the highest degree of spirituality to which a man can attain. 118. _A[s']oka-tree_. The A[s']oka (_Jonesia Asoka_) is one of the most beautiful of Indian trees. Sir W. Jones observes that 'the vegetable world scarce exhibits a richer sight than an A[s']oka-tree in full bloom'. It is about as high as an ordinary cherry-tree. The flowers are very large, and beautifully diversified with tints of orange-scarlet, of pale yellow, and of bright orange, which form a variety of shades according to the age of the blossom. 119. _And with his artless smiles Gladdens their hearts_. Chézy is enraptured with this verse: ' ... strophe incomparable, que tout père, ou plutôt toute mère, ne pourra lire sans sentir battre son coeur, tant le poète a su y rendre, avec les nuances les plus délicates, l'expression vivante de l'amour maternel.' Compare Statius, Theb., book v. line 613. 'Heu ubi siderei vultus? ubi verba ligatis Imperfecta sonis? risusque et murmura soli Intellecta mihi?' 120. _It is against propriety to make too minute inquiries about the wife of another man_. The Hindús were very careful to screen their wives from the curiosity of strangers; and their great lawgiver, Manu, enjoined that married women should be cautiously guarded by their husbands in the inner apartments (_antahpura_) appropriated to women (called by the Muhammadans, Haram, and in common parlance, in India _andar-mahall_). The chief duty of a married woman's life seems to have been to keep as quiet as possible, to know as little as possible, to hear, see, and inquire about nothing; and above all, to avoid being herself the subject of conversation or inquiry; in short, the sole end and object of her existence was to act as a good head-servant, yielding to her husband a servile obedience, regulating the affairs of his family, preparing his daily food, and superintending his household. (Manu, ix. 11, 16.) But notwithstanding the social restrictions to which women were subjected, even in the earlier periods of Indian history, it seems probable that they were not rigidly excluded from general society until after the introduction of Muhammadan customs into India. It appears from the plays that they were allowed to go into public on certain occasions; they took part in bridal processions, and were permitted to enter the temples of the gods, [S']akoontalá appears in the court of King Dushyanta and pleads her own cause; and Vásavadattá, in the Ratnávalí, holds a conversation with her father's envoy. Even in later times, the presence of men, other than husbands or sons, in the inner apartments, was far from being prohibited. See Wilson's Hindú Theatre, p. xliii. 121. _Her long hair Twined in a single braid_. Hindú women collect their hair into a single long braid as a sign of mourning, when their husbands are dead or absent for a long period. 122. _Shines forth from dim eclipse_. The following is the Hindú notion of an eclipse:--A certain demon, which had the tail of a dragon, was decapitated by Vishnu at the churning of the ocean; but, as he had previously tasted of the Amrit or nectar reproduced at that time, he was thereby rendered immortal, and his head and tail, retaining their separate existence, were transferred to the stellar sphere. The head was called Ráhu, and became the cause of eclipses, by endeavouring at various times to swallow the sun and moon. So in the Hitopade[s']a, line 192, the moon is said to be eaten by Ráhu. With regard to the love of the Moon for Rohiní, the fourth lunar constellation, see note 53. 123. _All unadorned_. That is, from the absence of colouring or paint. 124. _The power of darkness_. According to Hindú philosophy there are three qualities or properties which together make up or dominate humanity: 1. _Sattwa_, 'excellence' or 'goodness' (quiescence), whence proceed truth, knowledge, purity, etc. 2. _Rajas_, 'passion' (activity), which produces lust, pride, falsehood, etc., and is the cause of pain. 3. _Tamas_, 'darkness' (inertia), whence proceed ignorance, infatuation, delusion, mental blindness, etc. 125. _Children of Brahmá's sons_. Ka[s']yapa and Adití were the children of Maríchi and Daksha respectively, and these last were the sons of Brahmá. 126. _The ruler of the triple world_. That is, Indra, lord of heaven, earth, and the lower regions. Compare notes 110, 113. 127. _Whom Vishnu, greater than the Self-existent_. Vishnu, as Náráyana, or the Supreme Spirit, moved over the waters before the creation of the world, and from his navel came the lotus from which Brahmá, the World's Creator, here called the Self-existent, sprang. As Vishnu, the Preserver, he became incarnate in various forms; and chose Ka[s']yapa and Adití, from whom all human beings were descended, as his medium of incarnation, especially in the Avatár in which he was called Upendra, 'Indra's younger brother.' Hence it appears that the worshippers of Vishnu exalt him above the Creator. 128. _The earth's seven sea-girt isles_. According to the mythical geography of the Hindús, the earth consisted of seven islands, or rather insular continents, surrounded by seven seas. That inhabited by men was called Jambudwípa, and was in the centre, having in the middle of it the sacred mountain Meru or Sumeru, a kind of Mount Olympus inhabited by the gods. About Jambu flowed the sea of salt-water which extends to the second Dwípa, called Plaksha, which is in its turn surrounded by a sea of sugar-cane juice. And so with the five other Dwípas, viz. Sálmali, Ku[S']a, Krauncha, [S']áka, and Pushkara, which are severally surrounded by the seas of wine, clarified butter, curds, milk, and fresh water. 129. _Bharata_. The name Bharata is derived from the root bhri (fero),'to support.' Many Indian princes were so named, but the most celebrated was this son of Dushyanta and [S']akoontalá, who so extended his empire that from him the whole of India was called Bharata-varsha or Bhárata-varsha; and whose descendants, the sons of Dhritaráshtra and Pándu, by their quarrels, formed the subject of the great epic poem called Mahá-bhárata. The Hindús at the present day continue to call India by the name Bhárata-varsha. 180. _The Sage Bharata_. The Bharata here intended must not be confounded with the young prince. He was a holy sage, the director or manager of the gods' dramas, and inventor of theatrical representations in general. He wrote a work containing precepts and rules relating to every branch of dramatic writing, which appears to have been lost, but is constantly quoted by the commentators. (See p. xxix.) 131. _Saraswatí_. She is the goddess of speech and eloquence, patroness of the arts and sciences, and inventress of the Sanskrit language. There is a festival still held in her honour for two days, about February in every year, when no Hindú will touch a pen or write a letter. The courts are all closed accordingly. 132. _The purple self-existent god_. [S']iva is usually represented as borne on a bull; his colour, as well as that of the animal he rides, being white, to denote the purity of Justice, over which he presides. In his destroying capacity, he is characterized by the quality 'darkness,' and named Rudra, Kála, etc., when his colour is said to be purple or black. Some refer the epithet 'purple' to the colour of his throat; compare note 96. Self-existent, although properly a name of the Supreme Being (Brahmá), is applied both to Vishnu and [S']iva by their votaries. 134. _Whose vital Energy_. That is, [S']iva's wife, Párvatí, who was supposed to personify his energy or active power. Exemption from further transmigration, and absorption into the divine soul, was the _summum bonum_ of Hindú philosophy. Compare note 37. 135. _By my divine faculty of meditation_. Celestial beings were endowed with a mental faculty (called dhyána, pranidhána, etc.), which enabled them to arrive at the knowledge of present and future events. 136. _A roseate dye wherewith to stain The lady's feet_. That is, the soles of her feet. It was customary for Hindú ladies to stain the soles of their feet of a red colour with the dye made from lac--a minute insect bearing some resemblance to the cochineal--which punctures the bark of the Indian fig-tree, and surrounds itself with the milky resinous juice of that tree. This custom is a alluded to in one of Paterson's Hindú odes-- 'The rose that humbly bowed to meet, With glowing lips, her hallowed feet, And lent them all its bloom.' See Megha-dúta (Edit. Johnson), p. 32. 
12058	----	The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 4 VIRATA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] THE MAHABHARATA VIRATA PARVA SECTION I (_Pandava-Pravesa Parva_) OM! Having bowed down to Narayana, and Nara, the most exalted of male beings, and also to the goddess Saraswati, must the word _Jaya_ be uttered. Janamejaya said, "How did my great-grandfathers, afflicted with the fear of Duryodhana, pass their days undiscovered in the city of Virata? And, O Brahman, how did the highly blessed Draupadi, stricken with woe, devoted to her lords, and ever adoring the Deity[1], spend her days unrecognised?" [1] _Brahma Vadini_--Nilakantha explains this as _Krishna-kirtanasila._ Vaisampayana said, "Listen, O lord of men, how thy great grandfathers passed the period of unrecognition in the city of Virata. Having in this way obtained boons from the god of Justice, that best of virtuous men, Yudhishthira, returned to the asylum and related unto the Brahmanas all that had happened. And having related everything unto them, Yudhishthira restored to that regenerate Brahmana who had followed him the churning staff and the fire-sticks he had lost. And, O Bharata, the son of the god of Justice, the royal Yudhishthira of high soul then called together all his younger brothers and addressed them, saying, 'Exiled from our kingdom, we have passed twelve years. The thirteenth year, hard to spend, hath now come. Do thou therefore, O Arjuna, the son of Kunti, select some spot where we may pass our days undiscovered by our enemies.' "Arjuna replied, "Even by virtue of Dharma's boon, we shall, O lord of men, range about undiscovered by men. Still, for purposes of residence, I shall mention some spots that are both delightful and secluded. Do thou select some one of them. Surrounding the kingdom of the Kurus, are, many countries beautiful and abounding in corn, such as Panchala, Chedi, Matsya, Surasena, Pattachchara, Dasarna, Navarashtra, Malla, Salva, Yugandhara, Saurashtra, Avanti, and the spacious Kuntirashtra. Which of these, O king, wouldst thou choose, and where, O foremost of monarchs, shall we spend this year?' "Yudhishthira said 'O thou of mighty arms, it is even so. What that adorable Lord of all creatures hath said must become true. Surely, after consulting together, we must select some delightful, auspicious, and agreeable region for our abode, where we may live free from fear. The aged Virata, king of the Matsyas, is virtuous and powerful and charitable, and is liked by all. And he is also attached to the Pandavas. Even in the city of Virata, O child, we shall, O Bharata, spend this year, entering his service. Tell me, ye sons of the Kuru race, in what capacities ye will severally present yourselves before the king of the Matsyas!' "Arjuna said, 'O god among men, what service wilt thou take in Virata's kingdom? O righteous one, in what capacity wilt thou reside in the city of Virata? Thou art mild, and charitable, and modest, and virtuous, and firm in promise. What wilt thou, O king, afflicted as thou art with calamity, do? A king is qualified to bear trouble like an ordinary person. How wilt thou overcome this great calamity that has overtaken thee?' "Yudhishthira replied, 'Ye sons of the Kuru race, ye bulls among men, hear what I shall do on appearing before king Virata. Presenting myself as a Brahmana, Kanka by name, skilled in dice and fond of play, I shall become a courtier of that high-souled king. And moving upon chess-boards beautiful pawns made of ivory, of blue and yellow and red and white hue, by throws of black and red dice, I shall entertain the king with his courtiers and friends. And while I shall continue to thus delight the king, nobody will succeed in discovering me. And should the monarch ask me, I shall say, _Formerly I was the bosom friend of Yudhishthira_. I tell you that it is thus that I shall pass my days (in the city of Virata). What office wilt thou, O Vrikodara, fill in the city of Virata?'" SECTION II "Bhima said, 'I intend to present myself before the lord of Virata as a cook bearing the name of Vallava. I am skilled in culinary art, and I shall prepare curries for the king, and excelling all those skilful cooks that had hitherto dressed his food I shall gratify the monarch. And I shall carry mighty loads of wood. And witnessing that mighty feat, the monarch will be pleased. And, O Bharata, beholding such superhuman feats of mine, the servants of the royal household will honour me as a king. And I shall have entire control over all kinds of viands and drinks. And commanded to subdue powerful elephants and mighty bulls, I will do as bidden. And if any combatants will fight with me in the lists, then will I vanquish them, and thereby entertain the monarch. But I shall not take the life of any of them. I shall only bring them down in such way that they may not be killed. And on being asked as regards my antecedent I shall say that--_Formerly I was the wrestler and cook of Yudhishthira._ Thus shall I, O king, maintain myself.' "Yudhishthira said, 'And what office will be performed by that mighty descendant of the Kurus, Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, that foremost of men possessed of long arms, invincible in fight, and before whom, while he was staying with Krishna, the divine Agni himself desirous of consuming the forest of Khandava had formerly appeared in the guise of a Brahmana? What office will be performed by that best of warriors, Arjuna, who proceeded to that forest and gratified Agni, vanquishing on a single car and slaying huge _Nagas_ and _Rakshasas_, and who married the sister of Vasuki himself, the king of the _Nagas_? Even as the sun is the foremost of all heat-giving bodies, as the Brahmana is the best of all bipeds, as the cobra is the foremost of all serpents, as Fire is the first of all things possessed of energy, as the thunderbolt is the foremost of all weapons, as the humped bull is the foremost of all animals of the bovine breed, as the ocean is the foremost of all watery expanses, as clouds charged with rain are the foremost of all clouds, as Ananta is the first of all _Nagas_, as Airavata is the foremost of all elephants, as the son is the foremost of all beloved objects, and lastly, as the wife is the best of all friends, so, O Vrikodara, is the youthful Gudakesa, the foremost of all bowmen. And O Bharata, what office will be performed by Vibhatsu, the wielder of _Gandiva_, whose car is drawn by white horses, and who is not inferior to Indra or Vasudeva Himself? What office will be performed by Arjuna who, dwelling for five years in the abode of the thousand-eyed Deity (Indra) shining in celestial lustre, acquired by his own energy the science of superhuman arms with all celestial weapons, and whom I regard as the tenth _Rudra_, the thirteenth _Aditya_, the ninth _Vasu_, and the tenth _Graha_, whose arms, symmetrical and long, have the skin hardened by constant strokes of the bowstring and cicatrices which resemble those on the humps of bulls,--that foremost of warriors who is as Himavat among mountains, the ocean among expanses of water, Sakra among the celestial, Havyavaha (fire) among the Vasus, the tiger among beasts, and Garuda among feathery tribes!' "Arjuna replied, 'O lord of the Earth, I will declare myself as one of the neuter sex. O monarch, it is, indeed difficult to hide the marks of the bowstring on my arms. I will, however, cover both my cicatrized arms with bangles. Wearing brilliant rings on my ears and conch-bangles on my wrists and causing a braid to hang down from my head, I shall, O king, appear as one of the third sex, Vrihannala by name. And living as a female I shall (always) entertain the king and the inmates of the inner apartments by reciting stories. And, O king, I shall also instruct the women of Virata's palace in singing and delightful modes of dancing and in musical instruments of diverse kinds. And I shall also recite the various excellent acts of men and thus conceal myself, O son of Kunti, by feigning disguise. And, O Bharata should the king enquire, I will say that, _I lived as a waiting maid of Draupadi in Yudhishthira's palace_. And, O foremost of kings, concealing myself by this means, as fire is concealed by ashes, I shall pass my days agreeably in the palace of Virata.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, Arjuna, that best of men and foremost of virtuous persons, became silent. Then the king addressed another brother of his."[2] [2] This speech of Vaisampayana is not included in some texts within the second section. To include it, however, in the third, is evidently a mistake. SECTION III "Yudhishthira said, 'Tender, possessed of a graceful presence, and deserving of every luxury as thou art, what office wilt thou, O heroic Nakula, discharge while living in the dominions of that king? Tell me all about it!' "Nakula said, 'Under the name of Granthika, I shall become the keeper of the horses of king Virata. I have a thorough knowledge (of this work) and am skilful in tending horses. Besides, the task is agreeable to me, and I possess great skill in training and treating horses; and horses are ever dear to me as they are to thee, O king of the Kurus. At my hands even colts and mares become docile; these never become vicious in bearing a rider or drawing a car.[3] And those persons in the city of Virata that may enquire of me, I shall, O bull of the Bharata race, say,--_Formerly I was employed by Yudhishthira in the charge of his horses_. Thus disguised, O king, I shall spend my days delightfully in the city of Virata. No one will be able to discover me as I will gratify the monarch thus!'[4] [3] The sloka commencing with _Adushta_ and ending _ratheshu cha_ does not occur in texts except those in Bengal. [4] A difference reading is observable here. The sense, however, is the same. "Yudhishthira said, 'How wilt thou, O Sahadeva, bear thyself before that king? And what, O child, is that which thou wilt do in order to live in disguise.' "Sahadeva replied, 'I will become a keeper of the king of Virata's kine. I am skilled in milking kine and taking their history as well as in taming their fierceness. Passing under the name of Tantripala, I shall perform my duties deftly. Let thy heart's fever be dispelled. Formerly I was frequently employed to look after thy kine, and, O Lord of earth, I have a particular knowledge of that work. And, O monarch, I am well-acquainted with the nature of kine, as also with their auspicious marks and other matters relating to them. I can also discriminate bulls with auspicious marks, the scent of whose urine may make even the barren being forth child. Even thus will I live, and I always take delight in work of this kind. Indeed, no one will then be able to recognise me, and I will moreover gratify the monarch.' "Yudhishthira said, 'This is our beloved wife dearer to us than our lives. Verily, she deserveth to be cherished by us like a mother, and regarded like an elder sister. Unacquainted as she is with any kind of womanly work, what office will Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, perform? Delicate and young, she is a princess of great repute. Devoted to her lords, and eminently virtuous, also, how will she live? Since her birth, she hath enjoyed only garlands and perfumes and ornaments and costly robes.' "Draupadi replied, 'There is a class of persons called _Sairindhris_,[5] who enter the services of other. Other females, however (that are respectable) do not do so. Of this class there are some. I shall give myself out as a _Sairindhri_, skilled in dressing hair. And, O Bharata, on being questioned by the king, I shall say that I served as a waiting woman of Draupadi in Yudhishthira's household. I shall thus pass my days in disguise. And I shall serve the famous Sudeshna, the wife of the king. Surely, obtaining me she will cherish me (duly). Do not grieve so, O king.' [5] An independent female artisan working in another person's house.--Wilson. "Yudhishthira said, 'O Krishna, thou speakest well. But O fair girl, thou wert born in a respectable family. Chaste as thou art, and always engaged in observing virtuous vows, thou knowest not what is sin. Do thou, therefore, conduct thyself in such a way that sinful men of evil hearts may not be gladdened by gazing at thee.'" SECTION IV "Yudhishthira said, 'Ye have already said what offices ye will respectively perform. I also, according to the measure of my sense, have said what office I will perform. Let our priest, accompanied by charioteers and cooks, repair to the abode of Drupada, and there maintain our _Agnihotra_ fires. And let Indrasena and the others, taking with them the empty cars, speedily proceeded to Dwaravati. Even this is my wish. And let all these maid-servants of Draupadi go to the Panchalas, with our charioteers and cooks. And let all of them say,--_We do not know where the Pandavas have gone leaving us at the lake of Dwaitavana_.'" Vaisampayana said, "Having thus taken counsel of one another and told one another the offices they would discharge, the Pandavas sought Dhaumya's advice. And Dhaumya also gave them advice in the following words, saying, 'Ye sons of Pandu, the arrangements ye have made regarding the Brahmanas, your friends, cars, weapons, and the (sacred) fires, are excellent. But it behoveth thee, O Yudhishthira, and Arjuna specially, to make provision for the protection of Draupadi. Ye king, ye are well-acquainted with the characters of men. Yet whatever may be your knowledge, friends may from affection be permitted to repeat what is already known. Even this is subservient to the eternal interests of virtue, pleasure, and profit. I shall, therefore speak to you something. Mark ye. To dwell with a king is, alas, difficult. I shall tell you, ye princes, how ye may reside in the royal household, avoiding every fault. Ye Kauravas, honourably or otherwise, ye will have to pass this year in the king's palace, undiscovered by those that know you. Then in the fourteenth year, ye will live happy. O son of Pandu, in this world, that cherisher and protector of all beings, the king, who is a deity in an embodied form, is as a great fire sanctified with all the _mantras_.[6] One should present himself before the king, after having obtained his permission at the gate. No one should keep contact with royal secrets. Nor should one desire a seat which another may covet. He who doth not, regarding himself to be a favourite, occupy (the king's) car, or coach, or seat, or vehicle, or elephant, is alone worthy of dwelling in a royal household. He that sits not upon a seat the occupation of which is calculated raise alarm in the minds of malicious people, is alone worthy of dwelling in a royal household. No one should, unasked offer counsel (to a king). Paying homage in season unto the king, one should silently and respectfully sit beside the king, for kings take umbrage at babblers, and disgrace lying counsellors. A wise person should not contact friendship with the king's wife, nor with the inmates of the inner apartments, nor with those that are objects of royal displeasure. One about the king should do even the most unimportant acts and with the king's knowledge. Behaving thus with a sovereign, one doth not come by harm. Even if an individual attain the highest office, he should, as long as he is not asked or commanded, consider himself as born-blind, having regard to the king's dignity, for O repressers of foes, the rulers of men do not forgive even their sons and grandsons and brothers when they happen to tamper with their dignity. Kings should be served with regardful care, even as Agni and other gods; and he that is disloyal to his sovereign, is certainly destroyed by him. Renouncing anger, and pride, and negligence, it behoveth a man to follow the course directed by the monarch. After carefully deliberating on all things, a person should set forth before the king those topics that are both profitable and pleasant; but should a subject be profitable without being pleasant, he should still communicate it, despite its disagreeableness. It behoveth a man to be well-disposed towards the king in all his interests, and not to indulge in speech that is alike unpleasant and profitless. Always thinking--_I am not liked by the king_--one should banish negligence, and be intent on bringing about what is agreeable and advantageous to him. He that swerveth not from his place, he that is not friendly to those that are hostile to the king, he that striveth not to do wrong to the king, is alone worthy to dwell in a royal household. A learned man should sit either on the king's right or the left; he should not sit behind him for that is the place appointed for armed guards, and to sit before him is always interdicted. Let none, when the king is engaged in doing anything (in respect of his servants) come forward pressing himself zealously before others, for even if the aggrieved be very poor, such conduct would still be inexcusable.[7] It behoveth no man to reveal to others any lie the king may have told inasmuch as the king bears ill will to those that report his falsehoods. Kings also always disregard persons that regard themselves as learned. No man should be proud thinking--_I am brave, or, I am intelligent_, but a person obtains the good graces of a king and enjoys the good things of life, by behaving agreeably to the wishes of the king. And, O Bharata, obtaining things agreeable, and wealth also which is so hard to acquire, a person should always do what is profitable as well as pleasant to the king. What man that is respected by the wise can even think of doing mischief to one whose ire is great impediment and whose favour is productive of mighty fruits? No one should move his lips, arms and thighs, before the king. A person should speak and spit before the king only mildly. In the presence of even laughable objects, a man should not break out into loud laughter, like a maniac; nor should one show (unreasonable) gravity by containing himself, to the utmost. One should smile modestly, to show his interest (in what is before him). He that is ever mindful of the king's welfare, and is neither exhilarated by reward nor depressed by disgrace, is alone worthy of dwelling in a royal household. That learned courtier who always pleaseth the king and his son with agreeable speeches, succeedeth in dwelling in a royal household as a favourite. The favourite courtier who, having lost the royal favour for just reason, does not speak evil of the king, regains prosperity. The man who serveth the king or liveth in his domains, if sagacious, should speak in praise of the king, both in his presence and absence. The courtier who attempts to obtain his end by employing force on the king, cannot keep his place long and incurs also the risk of death. None should, for the purpose of self-interest, open communications with the king's enemies.[8] Nor should one distinguish himself above the king in matters requiring ability and talents. He that is always cheerful and strong, brave and truthful and mild, and of subdued senses, and who followeth his master like his shadow, is alone worthy to dwell in a royal household. He that on being entrusted with a work, cometh forward, saying,--_I will do this_--is alone worthy of living in a royal household. He that on being entrusted with a task, either within the king's dominion or out of it, never feareth to undertake it, is alone fit to reside in a royal household. He that living away from his home, doth no remember his dear ones, and who undergoeth (present) misery in expectation of (future) happiness, is alone worthy of dwelling in a royal household. One should not dress like the king, nor should one indulge in laughter in the king's presence nor should one disclose royal secrets. By acting thus one may win royal favour. Commissioned to a task, one should not touch bribes for by such appropriation one becometh liable to fetters or death. The robes, ornaments, cars, and other things which the king may be pleased to bestow should always be used, for by this, one winneth the royal favour. Ye children, controlling your minds, do ye spend this year, ye sons of Pandu, behaving in this way. Regaining your own kingdom, ye may live as ye please.' [6] Some of the Bengal text and _Sarvatramaya_ for _Sarvamantramaya_. The former is evidently incorrect. [7] This is a very difficult _sloka_. Nilakantha adopts the reading _Sanjayet_. The Bengal editions read _Sanjapet_. If the latter be the correct reading, the meaning then would be,--'Let none talk about what transpires in the presence of the king. For those even that are poor, regard it as a grave fault.' The sense evidently is that the occurrences in respect of a king which one witnesses should not be divulged. Even they that are powerless regard such divulgence of what occurs in respect of them as an insult to them, and, therefore, inexcusable. [8] The Bengal editions read _Rajna_ in the instrumental case. Following a manuscript text of a Pandit of my acquaintance I read _Rajnas_ in the genitive. "Yudhishthira said, 'We have been well taught by thee. Blessed be thou. There is none that could say so to us, save our mother Kunti and Vidura of great wisdom. It behoveth thee to do all that is necessary now for our departure, and for enabling us to come safely through this woe, as well as for our victory over the foe.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, Dhaumya, that best of Brahmanas, performed according to the ordinance the rites ordained in respect of departure. And lighting up their fires, he offered, with _mantras_, oblations on them for the prosperity and success of the Pandavas, as for their reconquest of the whole world. And walking round those fires and round the Brahmanas of ascetic wealth, the six set out, placing Yajnaseni in their front. And when those heroes had departed, Dhaumya, that best of ascetics, taking their sacred fires, set out for the Panchalas. And Indrasena, and others already mentioned, went to the Yadavas, and looking after the horses and the cars of the Pandavas passed their time happily and in privacy." SECTION V Vaisampayana said, "Girding their waists with swords, and equipped with finger-protectors made of iguana skins and with various weapons, those heroes proceeded in the direction of the river Yamuna. And those bowmen desirous of (speedily) recovering their kingdom, hitherto living in inaccessible hills and forest fastnesses, now terminated their forest-life and proceeded to the southern bank of that river. And those mighty warriors endued with great strength and hitherto leading the lives of hunters by killing the deer of the forest, passed through _Yakrilloma_ and Surasena, leaving behind, on their right, the country of the Panchalas, and on their left, that of the Dasarnas. And those bowmen, looking wan and wearing beards and equipped with swords, entered Matsya's dominions leaving the forest, giving themselves out as hunters. And on arriving at that country, Krishna addressed Yudhishthira, saying, 'We see footpaths here, and various fields. From this it appears that Virata's metropolis is still at a distance. Pass we here what part of the night is still left, for great is my fatigue.' "Yudhishthira answered, 'O Dhananjaya of Bharata's race, do thou take up Panchali and carry her. Just on emerging from this forest, we arrive at the city.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thereupon like the leader of a herd of elephants, Arjuna speedily took up Draupadi, and on coming to the vicinity of the city, let her down. And on reaching the city, Ruru's son (Yudhishthira), addressed Arjuna, saying, 'Where shall we deposit our weapons, before entering the city? If, O child, we enter it with our weapons about us, we shall thereby surely excite the alarm of the citizens. Further, the tremendous bow, the _Gandiva_, is known to all men, so that people will, without doubt, recognise us soon. And if even one of us is discovered, we shall, according to promise, have to pass another twelve years in the forest.' "Arjuna said, 'Hard by yon cemetery and near that inaccessible peak is a mighty _Sami_ tree, throwing-about its gigantic branches and difficult to ascend. Nor is there any human being, who, I think, O Pandu's son, will espy us depositing our arms at that place. That tree is in the midst of an out-of-the way forest abounding in beasts and snakes, and is in the vicinity of a dreary cemetery. Stowing away our weapons on the _Sami_ tree, let us, O Bharata, go to the city, and live there, free from anxiety!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having O bull of the Bharata race spoken thus to king Yudhishthira the just, Arjuna prepared to deposit the weapons (on the tree). And that bull among the Kurus, then loosened the string of the large and dreadful _Gandiva_, ever producing thundering twang and always destructive of hostile hosts, and with which he had conquered, on a single car, gods and men and _Nagas_ and swelling provinces. And the warlike Yudhishthira, that represser of foes, unfastened the undecaying string of that bow with which he had defended the field of Kurukshetra. And the illustrious Bhimasena unstrung that bow by means of which that sinless one had vanquished in fight the Panchalas and the lord of Sindhu, and with which, during his career of conquest, he had, single-handed, opposed innumerable foes, and hearing whose twang which was like unto the roar of the thunder or the splitting of a mountain, enemies always fly (in panic) from the field of battle. And that son of Pandu of coppery complexion and mild speech who is endued with great prowess in the field, and is called Nakula in consequence of his unexampled beauty in the family, then unfastened the string of that bow with which he had conquered all the regions of the west. And the heroic Sahadeva also, possessed of a mild disposition, then untied the string of that bow with which he had subjugated the countries of the south. And with their bows, they put together their long and flashing swords, their precious quivers, and their arrows sharp as razors. And Nakula ascended the tree, and deposited on it the bows and the other weapons. And he tied them fast on those parts of the tree which he thought would not break, and where the rain would not penetrate. And the Pandavas hung up a corpse (on the tree), knowing that people smelling the stench of the corpse would say--_here sure, is a dead body_, and avoid the tree from a distance. And on being asked by the shepherds and cowherds regarding the corpse, those repressers of foes said unto them, 'This is our mother, aged one hundred and eighty years. We have hung up her dead body, in accordance with the custom observed by our forefathers.' And then those resisters of foes approached the city. And for purposes of non-discovery Yudhishthira kept these (five) names for himself and his brothers respectively, viz., Jaya, Jayanta, Vijaya, Jayatsena, and Jayadvala. Then they entered the great city, with the view to passing the thirteenth year undiscovered in that kingdom, agreeably to the promise (to Duryodhana)." SECTION VI Vaisampayana said, "And while Yudhishthira was on his way to the delightful city of Virata, he began to praise mentally the Divine Durga, the Supreme Goddess of the Universe, born on the womb of Yasoda, and fond of the boons bestowed on her by Narayana, sprung from the race of cowherd Nanda, and the giver of prosperity, the enhancer (of the glory) of (the worshipper's) family, the terrifier of Kansa, and the destroyer of _Asuras_,--and saluted the Goddess--her who ascended the skies when dashed (by Kansa) on a stony platform, who is the sister of Vasudeva, one who is always decked in celestial garlands and attired in celestial robes,--who is armed with scimitar and shield, and always rescues the worshipper sunk in sin, like a cow in the mire, who in the hours of distress calls upon that eternal giver of blessings for relieving him of their burdens. And the king, desirous with his brothers of obtaining a sight of the Goddess, invoked her and began to praise her by reciting various names derived from (approved) hymns. And Yudhishthira said, 'Salutations to thee, O giver of boons. O thou that art identical with Krishna, O maiden, O thou that hast observed the vow of _Brahmacharya_, O thou of body bright as the newly-risen Sun, O thou of face beautiful as the full moon. Salutations to thee, O thou of four hands and four faces, O thou of fair round hips and deep bosom, O thou that wearest bangles made of emeralds and sapphires, O thou that bearest excellent bracelets on thy upper arm. Thou shinest, O Goddess, as Padma, the consort of Narayana. O thou that rangest the etherial regions, thy true form and thy _Brahmacharya_ are both of the purest kind. Sable as the black clouds, thy face is beautiful as that of _Sankarshana_. Thou bearest two large arms long as a couple of poles raised in honour of Indra. In thy (six) other arms thou bearest a vessel, a lotus, a bell, a noose, a bow, a large discus, and various other weapons. Thou art the only female in the universe that possessest the attribute of purity. Thou art decked with a pair of well-made ears graced with excellent rings. O Goddess, thou shinest with a face that challengeth the moon in beauty. With an excellent diadem and beautiful braid with robes made of the bodies of snakes, and with also the brilliant girdle round thy hips, thou shinest like the Mandara mountain encircled with snakes. Thou shinest also with peacock-plumes standing erect on thy head, and thou hast sanctified the celestial regions by adopting the vow of perpetual maiden-hood. It is for this, O thou that hast slain the _Mahishasura_,[9] that thou art praised and worshipped by the gods for the protection of the three worlds. O thou foremost of all deities, extend to me thy grace, show me thy mercy, and be thou the source of blessings to me. Thou art _Jaya_ and _Vijaya_, and it is thou that givest victory in battle. Grant me victory, O Goddess, and give me boons also at this hour of distress. Thy eternal abode is on Vindhya--that foremost of mountains. O _Kali_, O _Kali_, thou art the great _Kali_, ever fond of wine and meat and animal sacrifice. Capable of going everywhere at will, and bestowing boons on thy devotees, thou art ever followed in thy journeys by Brahma and the other gods. By them that call upon thee for the relief of their burdens, and by them also that bow to thee at daybreak on Earth, there is nothing that cannot be attained in respect either of offspring or wealth. And because thou rescuest people from difficulties whether when they are afflicted in the wilderness or sinking in the great ocean, it is for this that thou art called _Durga_[10] by all. Thou art the sole refuge of men when attacked by robbers or while afflicted in crossing streams and seas or in wilderness and forests. Those men that remember thee are never prostrated, O great Goddess. Thou art Fame, thou art Prosperity, thou art Steadiness, thou art Success; thou art the Wife, thou art men's Offspring, thou art Knowledge, and thou art the Intellect. Thou art the two Twilights, the Night Sleep, Light--both solar and lunar, Beauty, Forgiveness, Mercy, and every other thing. Thou dispellest, worshipped by the devotees their fetters, ignorance, loss of children and loss of wealth, disease, death, and fear. I, who have been deprived of my kingdom, seek thy protection. And as I bow to thee with bended head, O Supreme Goddess, grant me protection, O thou of eyes like lotus leaves. And be thou as boon-giving Truth unto us that are acting according to Truth. And, O Durga, kind as thou art unto all that seek thy protection, and affectionate unto all thy devotees, grant me protection!'" [9] _Mahishasura_, the son of Rambhasura. Durga had to fight for many years before she could slay this formidable _Asura_. The story occurs in the _Markandeya Purana_. To this day, Bengal during the great Durga Puja festival in autumn, worships the goddess with great veneration. [10] Literally, one that rescues from difficulty. Vaisampayana continued, "Thus praised by the son of Pandu, the Goddess showed herself unto him. And approaching the king, she addressed him in these words, 'O mighty armed king, listen, O Lord, to these words of mine. Having vanquished and slain the ranks of the Kauravas through my grace, victory in battle will soon be thine. Thou shalt again lord it over the entire Earth, having made thy dominions destitute of thorns. And, O king, thou shalt also, with thy brothers, obtain great happiness. And through my grace, joy and health will be thine. And they also in the world who will recite my attributes and achievements will be freed from their sins, and gratified. I will bestow upon them kingdom, long life, beauty of person, and offspring. And they, O king, who will invoke me, after thy manner, in exile or in the city, in the midst of battle or of dangers from foes, in forests or in inaccessible deserts, in seas or mountain fastnesses, there is nothing that they will not obtain in this world. And ye sons of Pandu, he will achieve success in every business of his that will listen to, or himself recite with devotion, this excellent hymn. And through my grace neither the Kuru's spies, nor those that dwell in the country of the Matsyas, will succeed in recognising you all as long as ye reside in Virata's city!' And having said these words unto Yudhishthira, that chastiser of foes, and having arranged for the protection of the sons of Pandu, the Goddess disappeared there and then." SECTION VII Vaisampayana said, "Then tying up in his cloth dice made of gold and set with _lapis lazuli_, and holding them below his arm-pit, king Yudhishthira,--that illustrious lord of men--that high-souled perpetuator of the Kuru race, regarded by kings, irrepressible in might, and like unto a snake of virulent poison,--that bull among men, endued with strength and beauty and prowess, and possessed of greatness, and resembling in form a celestial though now like unto the sun enveloped in dense clouds, or fire covered with ashes, first made his appearance when the famous king Virata was seated in his court. And beholding with his followers that son of Pandu in his court, looking like the moon hid in clouds and possessed of a face beautiful as the full moon, king Virata addressed his counsellors and the twice-born ones and the charioteers and the Vaisyas and others, saying, 'Enquire ye who it is, so like a king that looketh on my court for the first time. He cannot be a Brahmana. Methinks he is a man of men, and a lord of earth. He hath neither slaves, nor cars, nor elephants with him, yet he shineth like the very Indra. The marks on his person indicate him to be one whose coronal locks have undergone the sacred investiture. Even this is my belief. He approacheth me without any hesitation, even as an elephant in rut approacheth an assemblage of lotuses!' "And as the king was indulging in these thoughts, that bull among men, Yudhishthira, came before Virata and addressed him, saying, 'O great king, know me for a Brahmana who, having lost his all hath come to thee for the means of subsistence. I desire, O sinless one, to live here beside thee acting under thy commands,[11] O lord.' The king then, well-pleased, replied unto him saying, 'Thou art welcome. Do thou then accept the appointment thou seekest!' And having appointed the lion among kings in the post he had prayed for, king Virata addressed him with a glad heart, saying, 'O child, I ask thee from affection, from the dominions of what king dost thou come hither? Tell me also truly what is thy name and family, and what thou hast a knowledge of.' [11] _Kamachara_ is explained by Nilakantha thus, although in other places it bears a quite different meaning. "Yudhishthira said, 'My name is Kanka, and I am a Brahmana belonging to the family known by the name of _Vaiyaghra_. I am skilled in casting dice, and formerly I was a friend of Yudhishthira.' "Virata replied, 'I will grant thee whatever boon thou mayst desire. Do thou rule the Matsyas.--I shall remain in submission to thee. Even cunning gamblers are liked by me. Thou, on the other hand, art like a god, and deservest a kingdom.' "Yudhishthira said, 'My first prayer, O lord of earth, is that I may not be involved in any dispute (on account of dice) with low people. Further, a person defeated by me (at dice) shall not be permitted to retain the wealth (won by me). Let this boon be granted to me through thy grace.' "Virata replied, 'I shall certainly slay him who may happen to displease thee, and should he be one of the twice-born ones, I shall banish him from my dominions. Let the assembled subjects listen! Kanka is as much lord of this realm as I myself. Thou (Kanka) shalt be my friend and shalt ride the same vehicles as I. And there shall also be at thy disposal apparel in plenty, and various kinds of viands and drinks. And thou shalt look into my affairs, both internal and external. And for thee all my doors shall be open. When men out of employ or of strained circumstances will apply to thee, do thou at all hours bring their words unto me, and I will surely give them whatever they desire. No fear shall be thine as long as thou residest with me.'" Vaisampayana said, "Having thus obtained an interview with Virata's king, and received from him boons, that heroic bull among men, began to live happily, highly regarded by all. Nor could any one discover him as he lived there." SECTION VIII Vaisampayana said, "Then another endued with the dreadful strength and blazing in beauty, approached king Virata, with the playful gait of the lion. And holding in hand a cooking ladle and a spoon, as also an unsheathed sword of sable hue and without a spot on the blade, he came in the guise of a cook illumining all around him by his splendour like the sun discovering the whole world. And attired in black and possessed of the strength of the king of mountains, he approached the king of the Matsyas and stood before him. And beholding that king-like person before him, Virata addressed his assembled subjects saying, 'Who is that youth, that bull among men, with shoulders broad like those of a lion, and so exceedingly beautiful? That person, never seen before, is like the sun. Revolving the matter in my mind, I cannot ascertain who he is, nor can I with even serious thoughts guess the intention of that bull among men (in coming here). Beholding him, it seems to me that he is either the king of the Gandharvas, or Purandara himself. Do ye ascertain who it is that standeth before my eyes. Let him have quickly what he seeks.' Thus commanded by king Virata, his swift-footed messengers went up to the son of Kunti and informed that younger brother of Yudhishthira of everything the king had said. Then the high-souled son of Pandu, approaching Virata, addressed him in words that were not unsuited to his object, saying, 'O foremost of kings, I am a cook, Vallava by name. I am skilled in dressing dishes. Do thou employ me in the kitchen!' "Virata said, 'I do not believe, O Vallava, that cooking is thy office. Thou resemblest the deity of a thousand eyes; and in grace and beauty and prowess, thou shinest among these all as a king!' "Bhima replied, 'O king of kings, I am thy cook and servant in the first place. It is not curries only of which I have knowledge, O monarch, although king Yudhishthira always used in days gone by to taste my dishes. O lord of earth, I am also a wrestler. Nor is there one that is equal to me in strength. And engaging in fight with lions and elephants, I shall, O sinless one, always contribute to thy entertainment.' "Virata said, 'I will even grant thee boons. Thou wilt do what thou wishest, as thou describest thyself skilled in it. I do not, however, think, that this office is worthy of thee, for thou deservest this (entire) earth girt round by the sea. But do as thou likest. Be thou the superintendent of my kitchen, and thou art placed at the head of those who have been appointed there before by me.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus appointed in the kitchen, Bhima soon became the favourite of king Virata. And, O king, he continued to live there unrecognised by the other servants of Virata as also by other people!" SECTION IX Vaisampayana said, "Binding her black, soft, fine, long and faultless tresses with crisped ends into a knotted braid, Draupadi of black eyes and sweet smiles, throwing it upon her right shoulders, concealed it by her cloth. And she wore a single piece of a black and dirty though costly cloth. And dressing herself as a _Sairindhri_, she began to wander hither and thither in seeming affliction. And beholding her wandering, men and women came to her hastily and addressed her, saying, 'Who are you? And what do you seek?' And she replied, 'I am a king's _Sairindhri_. I desire to serve any one that will maintain me.' But beholding her beauty and dress, and hearing also her speech that was so sweet, the people could not take her for a maid-servant in search of subsistence. And it came to pass that while looking this way and that from the terrace, Virata's beloved queen, daughter of the king of Kekaya, saw Draupadi. And beholding her forlorn and clad in a single piece of cloth, the queen addressed her saying, 'O beautiful one, who are you, and what do you seek?' Thereupon, Draupadi answered her, saying, 'O foremost of queens, I am _Sairindhri_. I will serve anybody that will maintain me.' Then Sudeshna said, 'What you say (regarding your profession) can never be compatible with so much beauty. (On the contrary) you might well be the mistress of servants both, male and female. Your heels are not prominent, and your thighs touch each other. And your intelligence is great, and your navel deep, and your words solemn. And your great toes, and bust and hips, and back and sides, and toe-nails, and palms are all well-developed. And your palms, soles, and face are ruddy. And your speech is sweet even as the voice of the swan. And your hair is beautiful, and your bust shapely, and you are possessed of the highest grace. And your hips and bust are plump. And like a Kashmerean mare you are furnished with every auspicious mark. And your eye-lashes are (beautiful) bent, and your nether-lip is like the ruddy ground. And your waist is slender, and your neck bears lines that resemble those of the conch. And your veins are scarcely visible. Indeed, your countenance is like the full moon, and your eyes resemble the leaves of the autumnal lotus, and your body is fragrant as the lotus itself. Verily, in beauty you resemble _Sri_ herself, whose seat is the autumnal lotus. Tell me, O beautiful damsel, who thou art. Thou canst never be a maidservant. Art thou a _Yakshi_, a Goddess, a _Gandharvi_, or an _Apsara_? Art thou the daughter of a celestial, or art thou a female _Naga_? Art thou the guardian goddess of some city, a _Vidyadhari_, or a _Kinnari_,--or art thou _Rohini_ herself? Or art thou Alamvusha, or Misrakesi, Pundarika, or Malini, or the queen of Indra, or of Varuna? Or, art thou the spouse of Viswakarma, or of the creative Lord himself? Of these goddesses who art renowned in the celestial regions, who art thou, O graceful one?' "Draupadi replied, 'O auspicious lady, I am neither a goddess nor a _Gandharvi_, nor a _Yakshi_, nor a _Rakshasi_. I am a maid-servant of the _Sairindhri_ class. I tell thee this truly. I know to dress the hair, to pound (fragrant substances) for preparing unguents, and also to make beautiful and variegated garlands, O beauteous lady, of jasmines and lotuses and blue lilies and _Champakas_. Formerly I served Krishna's favourite queen Satyabhama, and also Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas and the foremost beauty of the Kuru race. I wander about alone, earning good food and dress; and as long as I get these, I continue to live in the place where they are obtainable. Draupadi herself called me Malini (maker of garlands).' "Hearing this, Sudeshna said, 'I would keep thee upon my head itself, if the doubt did not cross my mind that the king himself would be attracted towards thee with his whole heart. Attracted by thy beauty, the females of the royal household and my maids are looking at thee. What male person then is there that can resist thy attraction? Surely, O thou of well-rounded hips, O damsel of exquisite charms, beholding thy form of superhuman beauty, king Virata is sure to forsake me, and will turn to thee with his whole heart. O thou of faultless limbs, O thou that art endued with large eyes casting quick glances, he upon whom thou wilt look with desire is sure to be stricken. O thou of sweet smiles, O thou that possessest a faultless form, he that will behold thee constantly, will surely catch the flame. Even as a person that climbs up a tree for compassing his own destruction, even as the crab conceives for her own ruin, I may, O thou of sweet smiles, bring destruction upon myself by harbouring thee.' "Draupadi replied, 'O fair lady, neither Virata nor any other person will be able to have me, for my five youthful husbands, who are _Gandharvas_ and sons of a _Gandharva_ king of exceeding power, always protect me. None can do me a wrong. It is the wish of my _Gandharva_ husbands that I should serve only such persons as will not give me to touch food already partaken of by another, or tell me to wash their feet. Any man that attempts to have me like any common woman, meeteth with death that very night. No one can succeed in having me, for, O beautiful lady, O thou of sweet smiles, those beloved _Gandharvas_, possessed of great energy and mighty strength always protect me secretly.' "Sudeshna said, 'O thou that bringest delight to the heart, if it is as thou sayest, I will take thee into my household. Thou shalt not have to touch food that hath been partaken of by another, or to wash another's feet.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Virata's wife, O Janamejaya, Krishna (Draupadi) ever devoted to her lords, began to live in that city. Nor could anyone ascertain who in reality she was!" SECTION X "Vaisampayana said, 'Then clad in a cowherd's dress, and speaking the dialect of cowherds, Sahadeva came to the cowpen of Virata's city. And beholding that bull among men, who was shining in splendour, the king was struck with amazement. And he directed his men to summon Sahadeva. And when the latter came, the king addressed him, saying, 'To whom dost thou belong? And whence dost thou come? And what work dost thou seek? I have never seen thee before. O bull among men, tell me truly about thee.' "Having come before the king that afflicter of foes, Sahadeva answered in accents deep as the roar of the cloud, 'I am a Vaisya, Arishtanemi by name. I was employed as a cowherd in the service of those bulls of the Kuru race, the sons of Pandu. O foremost of men, I intend now to live beside thee, for I do not know where those lions among kings, the sons of Pritha, are. I cannot live without service, and, O king, I do not like to enter into the service of anyone else save thee.' "Hearing these words, Virata said, 'Thou must either be a Brahmana or a Kshatriya. Thou lookest as if thou wert the lord of the entire earth surrounded by the sea. Tell me truly, O thou that mowest down thy foes. The office of a Vaisya is not fit for thee. Tell me from the dominions of what king thou comest, and what thou knowest, and in what capacity thou wouldst remain with us, and also what pay thou wouldst accept.' "Sahadeva answered, 'Yudhishthira, the eldest of the five sons of Pandu, had one division of kine numbering eight hundred and ten thousand, and another, ten thousand, and another, again, twenty thousand, and so on. I was employed in keeping those cattle. People used to call me Tantripala. I know the present, the past, and the future of all kine living within ten _Yojanas_, and whose _tale_ has been taken. My merits were known to that illustrious one, and the Kuru king Yudhishthira was well-pleased with me. I am also acquainted with the means which aid kine in multiplying within a short time, and by which they may enjoy immunity from disease. Also these arts are known to me. I can also single out bulls having auspicious marks for which they are worshipped by men, and by smelling whose urine, the barren may conceive.' "Virata said, 'I have a hundred thousand kine divided into distinct herds. All those together with their keepers, I place in thy charge. Henceforth my beasts will be in thy keep.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then, O king, undiscovered by that monarch, that lord of men, Sahadeva, maintained by Virata, began to live happily. Nor did anyone else (besides his brothers) recognise him." SECTION XI "Vaisampayana said, 'Next appeared at the gate of the ramparts another person of enormous size and exquisite beauty decked in the ornaments of women, and wearing large ear-rings and beautiful conch-bracelets overlaid with gold. And that mighty-armed individual with long and abundant hair floating about his neck, resembled an elephant in gait. And shaking the very earth with his tread, he approached Virata and stood in his court. And beholding the son of the great Indra, shining with exquisite lustre and having the gait of a mighty elephant,--that grinder of foes having his true form concealed in disguise, entering the council-hall and advancing towards the monarch, the king addressed all his courtiers, saying, 'Whence doth this person come? I have never heard of him before.' And when the men present spoke of the newcomer as one unknown to them, the king wonderingly said, 'Possessed of great strength, thou art like unto a celestial, and young and of darkish hue, thou resemblest the leader of a herd of elephants. Wearing conch-bracelets overlaid with gold, a braid, and ear-rings, thou shinest yet like one amongst those that riding on chariots wander about equipped with mail and bow and arrows and decked with garlands and fine hair. I am old and desirous of relinquishing my burden. Be thou like my son, or rule thou like myself all the Matsyas. It seemeth to me that such a person as thou can never be of the neuter sex.' "Arjuna said, 'I sing, dance, and play on instruments. I am proficient in dance and skilled in song. O lord of men, assign me unto (the princess) Uttara. I shall be dancing-master to the royal maiden. As to how I have come by this form, what will it avail thee to hear the account which will only augment my pain? Know me, O king of men, to be Vrihannala, a son or daughter without father or mother.' "Virata said, 'O Vrihannala, I give thee what thou desirest. Instruct my daughter, and those like her, in dancing. To me, however, this office seemeth unworthy of thee. Thou deservest (the dominion of) the entire earth girt round by the ocean.'" Vaisampayana continued, "The king of the Matsyas then tested Vrihannala in dancing, music, and other fine arts, and consulting with his various ministers forthwith caused him to be examined by women. And learning that this impotency was of a permanent nature, he sent him to the maiden's apartments. And there the mighty Arjuna began giving lessons in singing and instrumental music to the daughter of Virata, her friends, and her waiting-maids, and soon won their good graces. And in this manner the self-possessed Arjuna lived there in disguise, partaking of pleasures in their company, and unknown to the people within or without the palace." SECTION XII Vaisampayana said, "After a while, another powerful son of Pandu was seen making towards king Virata in haste. And as he advanced, he seemed to everyone like solar orb emerged from the clouds. And he began to observe the horses around. And seeing this, the king of the Matsyas said to his followers, 'I wonder whence this man, possessed of the effulgence of a celestial, cometh. He looks intently at my steeds. Verily, he must be proficient in horse-lore. Let him be ushered into my presence quickly. He is a warrior and looks like a god!' And that destroyer of foes then went up to the king and accosted him, saying, 'Victory to thee, O king, and blest be ye. As a trainer of horses, I have always been highly esteemed by kings. I will be a clever keeper of thy horses.' "Virata said, 'I will give thee vehicles, wealth, and spacious quarters. Thou shalt be the manager of my horses. But first tell me whence thou comest, who thou art, and how also thou happenest to come here. Tell us also all the arts thou art master of.' Nakula replied, 'O mower of enemies, know that Yudhishthira is the eldest brother of the five sons of Pandu. I was formerly employed by him to keep his horses. I am acquainted with the temper of steeds, and know perfectly the art of breaking them. I know also how to correct vicious horses, and all the methods of treating their diseases. No animal in my hands becometh weak or ill. Not to speak of horses, even mares in my hands will never be found to be vicious. People called me Granthika by name and so did Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu.' "Virata said, 'Whatever horses I have, I consign to thy care even from today. And all the keepers of my horses and all my charioteers will from today be subordinate to thee. If this suits thee, say what remuneration is desired by thee. But, O thou that resemblest a celestial, the office of equerry is not worthy of thee. For thou lookest like a king and I esteem thee much. The appearance here hath pleased me as much as if Yudhishthira himself were here. Oh, how does that blameless son of Pandu dwell and divert himself in the forest, now destitute of servants as he is.'" Vaisampayana continued, "That youth, like unto a chief of the _Gandharvas_, was treated thus respectfully by the delighted king Virata. And he conducted himself there in such a manner as to make himself dear and agreeable to all in the palace. And no one recognised him while living under Virata's protection. And it was in this manner then the sons of Pandu, the very sight of whom had never been fruitless, continued to live in the country of the Matsyas. And true to their pledge those lords of the earth bounded by her belt of seas passed their days of _incognito_ with great composure notwithstanding their poignant sufferings." SECTION XIII (_Samayapalana Parva_) Janamejaya said, "While living thus disguised in the city of the Matsyas, what did those descendants of the Kuru race endued with great prowess, do, O regenerate one!" Vaisampayana said, "Hear, O king, what those descendants of Kuru did while they dwelt thus in disguise in the city of the Matsyas, worshipping the king thereof. By the grace of the sage Trinavindu and of the high-souled lord of justice, the Pandavas continued to live unrecognised by others in the city of Virata. O lord of men, Yudhishthira, as courtier made himself agreeable to Virata and his sons as also to all the Matsyas. An adept in the mysteries of dice, the son of Pandu caused them to play at dice according to his pleasure and made them sit together in the dice-hall like a row of birds bound in a string. And that tiger among men, king Yudhishthira the Just, unknown to the monarch, distributed among his brothers, in due proportion, the wealth he won from Virata. And Bhimasena on his part, sold to Yudhishthira for price, meat and viands of various kinds which he obtained from the king. And Arjuna distributed among all his brothers the proceeds of worn-out cloths which he earned in the inner apartments of the palace. And Sahadeva, too, who was disguised as a cowherd gave milk, curds and clarified butter to his brothers. And Nakula also shared with his brothers the wealth the king gave him, satisfied with his management of the horses. And Draupadi, herself in a pitiable condition, looked after all those brothers and behaved in such a way as to remain unrecognized. And thus ministering unto one another's wants, those mighty warriors lived in the capital of Virata as hidden from view, as if they were once more in their mother's womb. And those lords of men, the sons of Pandu, apprehensive of danger from the son of Dhritarashtra, continued to dwell there in concealment, watching over their wife Draupadi. And after three months had passed away, in the fourth, the grand festival in honour of the divine Brahma which was celebrated with pomp in the country of the Matsyas, came off. And there came athletes from all quarters by thousands, like hosts of celestials to the abode of Brahma or of Siva to witness that festival. And they were endued with huge bodies and great prowess, like the demons called _Kalakhanjas_. And elated with their prowess and proud of their strength, they were highly honoured by the king. And their shoulders and waists and necks were like those of lions, and their bodies were very clean, and their hearts were quite at ease. And they had many a time won success in the lists in the presence of kings. And amongst them there was one who towered above the rest and challenged them all to a combat. And there was none that dared to approach him as he proudly stalked in the arena. And when all the athletes stood sad and dispirited, the king of the Matsyas made him fight with his cook. And urged by the king, Bhima made up his mind reluctantly, for he could not openly disobey the royal behest. And that tiger among men then having worshipped the king, entered the spacious arena, pacing with the careless steps of a tiger. And the son of Kunti then girded up his loins to the great delight of the spectators. And Bhima then summoned to the combat that athlete known by the name of Jimuta who was like unto the Asura Vritra whose prowess was widely known. And both of them were possessed of great courage, and both were endued with terrible prowess. And they were like a couple of infuriate and huge-bodied elephants, each sixty years old. And those brave tigers among men then cheerfully engaged in a wrestling combat, desirous of vanquishing each other. And terrible was the encounter that took place between them, like the clash of the thunderbolt against the stony mountain-breast. And both of them were exceedingly powerful and extremely delighted at each other's strength. And desirous of vanquishing each other, each stood eager to take advantage of his adversary's lapse. And both were greatly delighted and both looked like infuriate elephants of prodigious size. And various were the modes of attack and defence that they exhibited with their clenched fists.[12] And each dashed against the other and flung his adversary to a distance. And each cast the other down and pressed him close to the ground. And each got up again and squeezed the other in his arms. And each threw the other violently off his place by boxing him on the breast. And each caught the other by the legs and whirling him round threw him down on the ground. And they slapped each other with their palms that struck as hard as the thunderbolt. And they also struck each other with their outstretched fingers, and stretching them out like spears thrust the nails into each other's body. And they gave each other violent kicks. And they struck knee and head against head, producing the crash of one stone against another. And in this manner that furious combat between those warriors raged on without weapons, sustained mainly by the power of their arms and their physical and mental energy, to the infinite delight of the concourse of spectators. And all people, O king, took deep interest in that encounter of those powerful wrestlers who fought like Indra and the Asura Vritra. And they cheered both of them with loud acclamations of applause. And the broad-chested and long-armed experts in wrestling then pulled and pressed and whirled and hurled down each other and struck each other with their knees, expressing all the while their scorn for each other in loud voices. And they began to fight with their bare arms in this way, which were like spiked maces of iron. And at last the powerful and mighty-armed Bhima, the slayer of his foes, shouting aloud seized the vociferous athlete by the arms even as the lion seizes the elephant, and taking him up from the ground and holding him aloft, began to whirl him round, to the great astonishment of the assembled athletes and the people of Matsya. And having whirled him round and round a hundred times till he was insensible, the strong-armed Vrikodara dashed him to death on the ground. And when the brave and renowned Jimuta was thus killed, Virata and his friends were filled with great delight. And in the exuberance of his joy, the noble-minded king rewarded Vallava then and there with the liberality of Kuvera. And killing numerous athletes and many other men possessed of great bodily strength, he pleased the king very much. And when no one could be found there to encounter him in the lists, the king made him fight with tigers and lions and elephants. And the king also made him battle with furious and powerful lions in the harem for the pleasure of the ladies. And Arjuna, too, pleased the king and all the ladies of the inner apartments by singing and dancing. And Nakula pleased Virata, that best of kings, by showing him fleet and well-trained steeds that followed him wherever he went. And the king, gratified with him, rewarded him with ample presents. And beholding around Sahadeva a herd of well-trained bullocks, Virata that bull among men, bestowed upon him also wealth of diverse kinds. And, O king, Draupadi distressed to see all those warriors suffer pain, sighed incessantly. And it was in this way that those eminent persons lived there in disguise, rendering services unto king Virata." [12] _Krita_--attack; _Pratikrita_--warding it off; _Sankata_--clenched. _Some_ texts read _Sankatakais_. The meaning then would be 'cased in gauntlets.' SECTION XIV (_Kichaka-badha Parva_) Vaisampayana said, "Living in such disguise, those mighty warriors, the sons of Pritha, passed ten months in Matsya's city. And, O monarch, although herself deserving to be waited upon by others, the daughter of Yajnasena, O Janamejaya, passed her days in extreme misery, waiting upon Sudeshna. And residing thus in Sudeshna's apartments, the princess of Panchala pleased that lady as also the other females of the inner apartments. And it came to pass that as the year was about to expire, the redoubtable Kichaka, the Commander of Virata's forces, chanced to behold the daughter of Drupada. And beholding that lady endued with the splendour of a daughter of the celestials, treading the earth like a goddess, Kichaka, afflicted with the shafts of Kama, desired to possess her. And burning with desire's flame, Virata's general came to Sudeshna (his sister) and smilingly addressed her in these words, 'This beauteous lady had never before been seen by me in king Virata's abode. This damsel maddens me with her beauty, even as a new wine maddens one with its fragrance. Tell me, who is this graceful and captivating lady possessed of the beauty of a goddess, and whose she is, and whence she hath come. Surely, grinding my heart she hath reduced me to subjection. It seems to me that (save her) there is no other medicine for my illness. O, this fair hand-maid of thine seemeth to me to be possessed of the beauty of a goddess. Surely, one like her is ill suited to serve thee. Let her rule over me and whatever is mine. O, let her grace my spacious and beautiful palace, decked with various ornaments of gold, full of viands and drinks in profusion, with excellent plates, and containing every kind of plenty, besides elephants and horses and cars in myriads.' And having consulted with Sudeshna thus, Kichaka went to princess Draupadi, and like a jackal in the forest accosting a lioness, spoke unto Krishna these words in a winning voice, 'Who and whose art thou, O beautiful one? And O thou of beautiful face, whence hast thou come to the city of Virata? Tell me all this, O fair lady. Thy beauty and gracefulness are of the very first order and the comeliness of thy features is unparalleled. With its loveliness thy face shineth ever like the resplendent moon. O thou of fair eye-brows, thy eyes are beautiful and large like lotus-petals. Thy speech also, O thou of beautiful limbs, resembles the notes of the _cuckoo_. O thou of fair hips, never before in this world have I beheld a woman possessed of beauty like thine, O thou of faultless features. Art thou Lakshmi herself having her abode in the midst of lotuses or, art thou, O slender-waisted one, she who is called _Bhuti_[13]. Or, which amongst these--_Hri, Sri, Kirti_ and _Kanti_,--art thou, O thou of beautiful face? Or possessed of beauty like Rati's, art thou, she who sporteth in the embraces of the God of love? O thou that possessest the fairest of eye-brows, thou shinest beautifully even like the lovely light of the moon. Who is there in the whole world that will not succumb to the influence of desire beholding thy face? Endued with unrivalled beauty and celestial grace of the most attractive kind, that face of thine is even like the full moon, its celestial effulgence resembling his radiant face, its smile resembling his soft-light, and its eye-lashes looking like the spokes on his disc. Both thy bosoms, so beautiful and well-developed and endued with unrivalled gracefulness and deep and well-rounded and without any space between them, are certainly worthy of being decked with garlands of gold. Resembling in shape the beautiful buds of the lotus, these thy breasts, O thou of fair eye-brows, are even as the whips of Kama that are urging me forward, O thou of sweet smiles. O damsel of slender waist, beholding that waist of thine marked with four wrinkles and measuring but a span, and slightly stooping forward because of the weight of thy breasts, and also looking on those graceful hips of thine broad as the banks of a river, the incurable fever of desire, O beauteous lady, afflicteth me sore. The flaming fire of desire, fierce as a forest conflagration, and fanned by the hope my heart cherisheth of a union with thee is consuming me intensely. O thou of exceeding beauty quench thou that flaming fire kindled by Manmatha. Union with thee is a rain-charged cloud, and the surrender of thy person is the shower that the cloud may drop. O thou of face resembling the moon, the fierce and maddening shafts of Manmatha whetted and sharpened by the desire of a union with thee, piercing this heart of mine in their impetuous course, have penetrated into its core. O black-eyed lady, those impetuous and cruel shafts are maddening me beyond endurance. It behoveth thee to relieve me from this plight by surrendering thyself to me and favouring me with thy embraces. Decked in beautiful garlands and robes and adorned with every ornament, sport thou, O sweet damsel, with me to thy fill. O thou of the gait of an elephant in rut, deserving as thou art of happiness though deprived of it now, it behoveth thee not to dwell here in misery. Let unrivalled weal be thine. Drinking various kinds of charming and delicious and ambrosial wines, and sporting at thy pleasure in the enjoyment of diverse objects of delight, do thou, O blessed lady, attain auspicious prosperity. This beauty of thine and this prime of thy youth, O sweet lady, are now without their use. For, O beauteous and chaste damsel, endued with such loveliness, thou dost not shine, like a graceful garland lying unused and unworn. I will forsake all my old wives. Let them, O thou of sweet smiles, become thy slaves. And I also, O fair damsel, will stay by thee as thy slave, ever obedient to thee, O thou of the most handsome face.' Hearing these words of his, Draupadi replied, 'In desiring me, a female servant of low extraction, employed in the despicable office of dressing hair, O _Suta's_ son, thou desirest one that deserves not that honour. Then, again, I am the wife of others. Therefore, good betide thee, this conduct of thine is not proper. Do thou remember the precept of morality, viz., that persons should take delight only in their wedded wives. Thou shouldst not, therefore, by any means bend thy heart to adultery. Surely abstaining from improper acts is ever the study of those that are good. Overcome by ignorance sinful men under the influence of desire come by either extreme infamy or dreadful calamity.'" [13] _Bhuti, Hri, Sri, Kirti_ and _Kanti_ are respectively the feminine embodiments of Prosperity, Modesty, Beauty, Fame and Loveliness. Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by the _Sairindhri_, the wicked Kichaka losing control over his senses and overcome by lust, although aware of the numerous evils of fornication, evils condemned by everybody and sometimes leading to the destruction of life itself,--then spoke unto Draupadi, 'It behoveth thee not, O beauteous lady, O thou of graceful features, thus to disregard me who am, O thou of sweet smiles, under the power of Manmatha on thy account. If now, O timid one, thou disregardest me who am under thy influence and who speak to thee so fair, thou wilt, O black-eyed damsel, have to repent for it afterwards. O thou of graceful eye-brows, the real lord of this entire kingdom, O slender-waisted lady, is myself. It is me depending upon whom the people of this realm live. In energy and prowess I am unrivalled on earth. There is no other man on earth who rivals me in beauty of person, in youth, in prosperity, and in the possession of excellent objects of enjoyment. Why it is, O auspicious lady, that having it in thy power to enjoy here every object of desire and every luxury and comfort without its equal, thou preferest servitude. Becoming the mistress of this kingdom which I shall confer on thee, O thou of fair face, accept me, and enjoy, O beauteous one, all excellent objects of desire.' Addressed in these accursed words by Kichaka, that chaste daughter of Drupada answered him thus reprovingly, 'Do not, O son of a _Suta_, act so foolishly and do not throw away thy life. Know that I am protected by my five husbands. Thou canst not have me. I have Gandharvas for my husbands. Enraged they will slay thee. Therefore, do thou not bring destruction on thyself. Thou intendest to tread along a path that is incapable of being trod by men. Thou, O wicked one, art even like a foolish child that standing on one shore of the ocean intends to cross over to the other. Even if thou enterest into the interior of the earth, or soarest into the sky, or rushest to the other shore of the ocean, still thou wilt have no escape from the hands of those sky-ranging offspring of gods, capable of grinding all foes. Why dost thou today, O Kichaka, solicit me so persistently even as a sick person wisheth for the night that will put a stop to his existence? Why dost thou desire me, even like an infant lying on its mother's lap wishing to catch the moon? For thee that thus solicitest their beloved wife, there is no refuge either on earth or in sky. O Kichaka, hast thou no sense which leads thee to seek thy good and by which thy life may be saved?'" SECTION XV Vaisampayana said, "Rejected thus by the princess, Kichaka, afflicted with maddening lust and forgetting all sense of propriety, addressed Sudeshna saying, 'Do thou, Kekaya's daughter, so act that thy _Sairindhri_ may come into my arms. Do thou, O Sudeshna, adopt the means by which the damsel of the gait of an elephant may accept me; I am dying of absorbing desire.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing his profuse lamentations, that gentle lady, the intelligent queen of Virata, was touched with pity. And having taken counsel with her own self and reflected on Kichaka's purpose and on the anxiety of Krishna, Sudeshna addressed the _Suta's_ son in these words, 'Do thou, on the occasion of some festival, procure viands and wines for me. I shall then send my _Sairindhri_ to thee on the pretence of bringing wine. And when she will repair thither do thou in solitude, free from interruption, humour her as thou likest. Thus soothed, she may incline her mind to thee.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, he went out of his sister's apartments. And he soon procured wines well-filtered and worthy of a king. And employing skilled cooks, he prepared many and various kinds of choice viands and delicious drinks and many and various kinds of meat of different degrees of excellence. And when all this had been done, that gentle lady Sudeshna, as previously counselled by Kichaka, desired her _Sairindhri_ to repair to Kichaka's abode, saying, 'Get up, O _Sairindhri_ and repair to Kichaka's abode to bring wine, for, O beauteous lady, I am afflicted with thirst.' Thereupon the _Sairindhri_ replied, 'O princess, I shall not be able to repair to Kichaka's apartments. Thou thyself knowest, O queen, how shameless he is. O thou of faultless limbs, O beauteous lady, in thy palace I shall not be able to lead a lustful life, becoming faithless to my husbands. Thou rememberest, O gentle lady, O beautiful one, the conditions I had set down before entering thy house. O thou of tresses ending in graceful curls, the foolish Kichaka afflicted by the god of desire, will, on seeing me, offer me insult. Therefore, I will not go to his quarters. Thou hast, O princess, many maids under thee. Do thou, good betide thee, send one of them. For, surely, Kichaka will insult me.' Sudeshna said, 'Sent by me, from my abode, surely he will not harm thee.' And having said this, she handed over a golden vessel furnished with a cover. And filled with apprehension, and weeping, Draupadi mentally prayed for the protection of the gods, and set out for Kichaka's abode for fetching wine. And she said, 'As I do not know another person save my husbands, by virtue of that Truth let Kichaka not be able to overpower me although I may approach his presence.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And that helpless damsel then adored Surya for a moment. And Surya, having considered all that she urged, commanded a _Rakshasa_ to protect her invisibly. And from that time the _Rakshasa_ began to attend upon that blameless lady under any circumstances. And beholding Krishna in his presence like a frightened doe, the _Suta_ rose up from his seat, and felt the joy that is felt by a person wishing to cross to the other shore, when he obtains a boat." SECTION XVI "Kichaka said, 'O thou of tresses ending in beautiful curls, thou art welcome. Surely, the night that is gone hath brought me an auspicious day, for I have got thee today as the mistress of my house. Do what is agreeable to me. Let golden chains, and conchs and bright ear-rings made of gold, manufactured in various countries, and beautiful rubies and gems, and silken robes and deer-skins, be brought for thee. I have also an excellent bed prepared for thee. Come, sitting upon it do thou drink with me the wine prepared from the honey flower.' Hearing these words, Draupadi said, 'I have been sent to thee by the princess for taking away wine. Do thou speedily bring me wine, for she told me that she is exceedingly thirsty.' At this, Kichaka said, 'O gentle lady, others will carry what the princess wants.' And saying this, the _Suta's_ son caught hold of Draupadi's right arm. And at this, Draupadi exclaimed, 'As I have never, from intoxication of the senses, been unfaithful to my husbands even at heart, by that Truth, O wretch, I shall behold thee dragged and lying powerless on the ground.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Seeing that large-eyed lady reproving him in that strain, Kichaka suddenly seized her by the end of her upper garment as she attempted to run away. And seized with violence by Kichaka, the beautiful princess, unable to tolerate it, and with frame trembling with wrath, and breathing quickly, dashed him to the ground. And dashed to the ground thus, the sinful wretch tumbled down like a tree whose roots had been cut. And having thrown Kichaka down on the ground when the latter had seized her, she, trembling all over rushed to the court, where king Yudhishthira was, for protection. And while she was running with all her speed, Kichaka (who followed her), seizing her by the hair, and bringing her down on the ground, kicked her in the very presence of the king. Thereupon, O Bharata, the _Rakshasa_ that had been appointed by Surya to protect Draupadi, gave Kichaka a shove with a force mighty as that of the wind. And overpowered by the force of _Rakshasa_, Kichaka reeled and fell down senseless on the ground, even like an uprooted tree. And both Yudhishthira and Bhimasena who were seated there, beheld with wrathful eyes that outrage on Krishna by Kichaka. And desirous of compassing the destruction of the wicked Kichaka, the illustrious Bhima gnashed his teeth in rage. And his forehead was covered with sweat, and terrible wrinkles appeared thereon. And a smoky exhalation shot forth from his eyes, and his eye-lashes stood on end. And that slayer of hostile heroes pressed his forehead with his hands. And impelled by rage, he was on the point of starting up with speed. Thereat king Yudhishthira, apprehensive of discovery, squeezed his thumbs and commanded Bhima to forbear. And Bhima who then looked like an infuriate elephant eyeing a large tree, was thus forbidden by his elder brother. And the latter said, 'Lookest thou, O cook, for trees for fuel. If thou art in need of faggots, then go out and fell trees.' And the weeping Draupadi of fair hips, approaching the entrance of the court, and seeing her melancholy lords, desirous yet of keeping up the disguise duty-bound by their pledge, with eyes burning in fire, spoke these words unto the king of the Matsyas, 'Alas, the son of a _Suta_ hath kicked today the proud and beloved wife of those whose foe can never sleep in peace even if four kingdoms intervene between him and them. Alas, the son of a _Suta_ hath kicked today the proud and beloved wife of those truthful personages, who are devoted to Brahmanas and who always give away without asking any thing in gift. Alas! the son of a _Suta_ hath kicked today the proud and beloved wife of those, the sounds of whose kettle-drums and the twangs of whose bow-strings are ceaselessly heard. Alas, the son of a _Suta_ hath kicked today the proud and beloved wife of those who are possessed of abundant energy and might, and who are liberal in gifts and proud of their dignity. Alas, the son of a _Suta_ hath kicked today the proud and beloved wife of those who, if they had not been fettered by the ties of duty, could destroy this entire world. Where, alas, are those mighty warriors today who, though living in disguise, have always granted protection unto those that solicit it? Oh, why do those heroes today, endued as they are with strength and possessed of immeasurable energy, quietly suffer, like eunuchs, their dear and chaste wife to be thus insulted by a _Suta's_ son? Oh, where is that wrath of theirs, that prowess, and that energy, when they quietly bear their wife to be thus insulted by a wicked wretch? What can I (a weak woman) do when Virata, deficient in virtue, coolly suffereth my innocent self to be thus wronged by a wretch? Thou dost not, O king, act like a king towards this Kichaka. Thy behaviour is like that of a robber, and doth not shine in a court. That I should thus be insulted in thy very presence, O Matsya, is highly improper. Oh, let all the courtiers here look at this violence of Kichaka. Kichaka is ignorant of duty and morality, and Matsya also is equally so. These courtiers also that wait upon such a king are destitute of virtue.'" Vaisampayana continued, "With these and other words of the same kind the beautiful Krishna with tearful eyes rebuked the king of the Matsyas. And hearing her, Virata said, 'I do not know what your dispute has been out of our sight. Not knowing the true cause how can I show my discrimination?' Then the courtiers, having learnt every thing, applauded Krishna, and they all exclaimed, 'Well done!' 'Well done!' and censured Kichaka. And the courtiers said, 'That person who owneth this large-eyed lady having every limb of hers endued with beauty for his wife, possesseth what is of exceeding value and hath no occasion to indulge in any grief. Surely, such a damsel of transcendent beauty and limbs perfectly faultless is rare among men. Indeed, it seems to us that she is a goddess.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And while the courtiers, having beheld Krishna (under such circumstances), were applauding her thus, Yudhishthira's forehead, from ire, became covered with sweat. And that bull of the Kuru race then addressed that princess, his beloved spouse, saying, 'Stay not here, O Sairindhri; but retire to the apartments of Sudeshna. The wives of heroes bear affliction for the sake of their husbands, and undergoing toil in ministering unto their lords, they at last attain to region where their husbands may go. Thy Gandharva husbands, effulgent as the sun, do not, I imagine, consider this as an occasion for manifesting their wrath, inasmuch as they do not rush to thy aid. O _Sairindhri_, thou art ignorant of the timeliness of things, and it is for this that thou weepest as an actress, besides interrupting the play of dice in Matsya's court. Retire, O _Sairindhri_; the Gandharvas will do what is agreeable to thee. And they will surely display thy woe and take the life of him that hath wronged thee.' Hearing these words the _Sairindhri_ replied, 'They of whom I am the wedded wife are, I ween, extremely kind. And as the eldest of them all is addicted to dice, they are liable to be oppressed by all.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And having said this, the fair-hipped Krishna with dishevelled hair and eyes red in anger, ran towards the apartments of Sudeshna. And in consequence of having wept long her face looked beautiful like the lunar disc in the firmament, emerged from the clouds. And beholding her in that condition, Sudeshna asked, 'Who, O beauteous lady, hath insulted thee? Why, O amiable damsel, dost thou weep? Who, gentle one, hath done thee wrong? Whence is this thy grief?' Thus addressed, Draupadi said, 'As I went to bring wine for thee, Kichaka struck me in the court in the very presence of the king, as if in the midst of a solitary wood.' Hearing this, Sudeshna said, 'O thou of tresses ending in beautiful curls, as Kichaka, maddened by lust hath insulted thee that art incapable of being possessed by him, I shall cause him to be slain if thou wishest it.' Thereupon Draupadi answered, 'Even others will slay him,--even they whom he hath wronged. I think it is clear that he will have to go to the abode of Yama this very day!'" SECTION XVII Vaisampayana said, "Thus insulted by the _Suta's_ son, that illustrious princess, the beautiful Krishna, eagerly wishing for the destruction of Virata's general, went to her quarters. And Drupada's daughter of dark hue and slender waist then performed her ablutions. And washing her body and cloths with water Krishna began to ponder weepingly on the means of dispelling her grief. And she reflected, saying, 'What am I to do? Whither shall I go? How can my purpose be effected?' And while she was thinking thus, she remembered Bhima and said to herself, 'There is none else, save Bhima, that can today accomplish the purpose on which my heart is set!' And afflicted with great grief, the large-eyed and intelligent Krishna possessed of powerful protectors then rose up at night, and leaving her bed speedily proceeded towards the quarters of Bhimasena, desirous of beholding her lord. And possessed of great intelligence, the daughter of Drupada entered her husband's quarters, saying, 'How canst thou sleep while that wretched commander of Virata's forces, who is my foe, yet liveth, having perpetrated today _that_ (foul act)?'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then the chamber where Bhima slept, breathing hard like a lion, being filled with the beauty of Drupada's daughter and of the high-souled Bhima, blazed forth in splendour. And Krishna of sweet smiles, finding Bhimasena in the cooking apartments, approached him with the eagerness of a three-year old cow brought up in the woods, approaching a powerful bull, in her first season, or of a she-crane living by the water-side approaching her mate in the pairing season. And the Princess of Panchala then embraced the second son of Pandu, even as a creeper embraces a huge and mighty _Sala_ on the banks of the Gomati. And embracing him with her arms, Krishna of faultless features awaked him as a lioness awaketh a sleeping lion in a trackless forest. And embracing Bhimasena even as a she-elephant embraceth her mighty mate, the faultless Panchali addressed him in voice sweet as the sound of a stringed instrument emitting _Gandhara_ note. And she said, 'Arise, arise! Why dost thou, O Bhimasena, lie down as one dead? Surely, he that is not dead, never suffereth a wicked wretch that hath disgraced his wife, to live.' And awakened by the princess, Bhima of mighty arms, then rose up, and sat upon his couch overlaid with a rich bed. And he of the Kuru race then addressed the princess--his beloved wife, saying, 'For what purpose hast thou come hither in such a hurry? Thy colour is gone and thou lookest lean and pale. Tell me everything in detail. I must know the truth. Whether it be pleasurable or painful, agreeable, or disagreeable, tell me all. Having heard everything, I shall apply the remedy. I alone, O Krishna, am entitled to thy confidence in all things, for it is I who deliver thee from perils again and again! Tell me quickly what is thy wish, and what is the purpose that is in thy view, and return thou to thy bed before others awake.'" SECTION XVIII "Draupadi said, 'What grief hath she not who hath Yudhishthira for her husband? Knowing all my griefs, why dost thou ask me? The _Pratikamin_ dragged me to the court in the midst of an assembly of courtiers, calling me a slave. That grief, O Bharata, consumeth me. What other princess, save Draupadi, would live having suffered such intense misery? Who else, save myself, could bear such second insult as the wicked Saindhava offered me while residing in the forest? Who else of my position, save myself, could live, having been kicked by Kichaka in the very sight of the wicked king of the Matsyas? Of what value is life, O Bharata, when thou, O son of Kunti, dost not think me miserable, although I am afflicted with such woes? That vile and wicked wretch, O Bharata, known by the name of Kichaka, who is the brother-in-law of king Virata and the commander of his forces, every day, O tiger among men, addresses me who am residing in the palace as a _Sairindhri_, saying, _Do thou become my wife_.--Thus solicited, O slayer of foes, by that wretch deserving to be slain, my heart is bursting like a fruit ripened in season. Censure thou that elder brother of thine addicted to execrable dice, through whose act alone I have been afflicted with such woe. Who else, save him that is a desperate gambler, would play, giving up kingdom and everything including even myself, in order to lead a life in the woods? If he had gambled morning and evening for many years together, staking _nishkas_ by thousand and other kinds of substantial wealth, still his silver, and gold, and robes, and vehicles, and teams, and goats, and sheep, and multitudes of steeds and mares and mules would not have sustained any diminution. But now deprived of prosperity by the rivalry of dice, he sits dumb like a fool, reflecting on his own misdeeds. Alas, he who, while sojourning, was followed by ten thousand elephants adorned with golden garlands now supports himself by casting dice. That Yudhishthira who at Indraprastha was adored by kings of incomparable prowess by hundreds of thousands, that mighty monarch in whose kitchen a hundred thousand maid-servants, plate in hand, used every day to feed numerous guests day and night, that best of liberal men, who gave (every day) a thousand _nishkas_, alas, even he overwhelmed with woe in consequence of gambling which is the root of all evil, now supporteth himself by casting dice. Bards and encomiasts by thousands decked with ear-rings set with brilliant gems, and gifted with melodious voice, used to pay him homage morning and evening. Alas, that Yudhishthira, who was daily waited upon by a thousand sages of ascetic merit, versed in the _Vedas_ and having every desire gratified, as his courtiers,--that Yudhishthira who maintained eighty-eight thousands of domestic _Snatakas_ with thirty maid-servants assigned unto each, as also ten thousand _yatis_ not accepting anything in gift and with vital seed drawn up,--alas, even that mighty king now liveth in such guise. That Yudhishthira who is without malice, who is full of kindness, and who giveth every creature his due, who hath all these excellent attributes, alas--even he now liveth in such guise. Possessed of firmness and unbaffled prowess, with heart disposed to give every creature his due, king Yudhishthira, moved by compassion, constantly maintained in his kingdom the blind, the old, the helpless, the parentless and all others in his dominions in such distress. Alas, that Yudhishthira becoming a dependant and a servant of Matsya, a caster of dice in his court, now calls himself Kanka. He unto whom while residing at Indraprastha, all the rulers of earth used to pay timely tribute,--alas, even he now begs for subsistence at another's hands. He to whom the kings of the earth were in subjection,--alas, even that king having lost his liberty, liveth in subjection to others. Having dazzled the entire earth like the sun by his energy, that Yudhishthira, alas, is now a courtier of king Virata. O Pandu's son, that Pandava who was respectfully waited upon in court by kings and sages, behold him now waiting upon another. Alas, beholding Yudhishthira a courtier sitting beside another and breathing adulatory speeches to the other, who can help being afflicted with grief? And beholding the highly wise and virtuous Yudhishthira, undeserving as he is of serving others, actually serving another for sustenance, who can help being afflicted with grief? And, O hero, that Bharata who was worshipped in court by the entire earth, do thou now behold him worshipping another. Why then, O Bharata, dost thou not regard me as one afflicted with diverse miseries, like one forlorn and immersed in a sea of sorrow?'" SECTION XIX "Draupadi said, 'This O Bharata, that I am going to tell thee is another great grief of mine. Thou shouldst not blame me, for I tell thee this from sadness of heart. Who is there whose grief is not enhanced at sight of thee, O bull of the Bharata race, engaged in the ignoble office of a cook, so entirely beneath thee and calling thyself as one _of Vallava_ caste? What can be sadder than this, that people should know thee as Virata's cook, Vallava by name, and therefore one that is sunk in servitude? Alas, when thy work of the kitchen is over, thou humbly sittest beside Virata, calling thyself as Vallava the cook, then despondency seizeth my heart. When the king of kings in joy maketh thee fight with elephants, and the women of the inner apartments (of the palace) laugh all the while, then I am sorely distressed. When thou fightest in the inner apartments with lions, tigers, and buffaloes, the princess Kaikeyi looking on, then I almost swoon away. And when Kaikeyi and those maidservants, leaving their seats, come to assist me and find that instead of suffering any injury in limbs mine is only a swoon, the princess speaks unto her women, saying, 'Surely, it is from affection and the duty begot of intercourse that this lady of sweet smiles grieveth for the exceedingly powerful cook when he fights with the beasts. Sairindhri is possessed of great beauty and Vallava also is eminently handsome. The heart of woman is hard to know, and they, I fancy, are deserving of each other. It is, therefore, likely that the Sairindhri invariably weepeth (at such times) on account of her connection with her lover. And then, they both have entered this royal family at the same time. And speaking such words she always upbraideth me. And beholding me wroth at this, she suspects me to be attached to thee.' When she speaketh thus, great is the grief that I feel. Indeed, on beholding thee, O Bhima of terrible prowess, afflicted with such calamity, sunk as I already am in grief on account of Yudhishthira, I do not desire to live. That youth who on a single car had vanquished all celestials and men, is now, alas, the dancing master of king Virata's daughter. That Pritha's son of immeasurable soul, who had gratified Agni in the forest of Khandava, is now living in the inner apartments (of a palace) like fire hid in a well. Alas, the bull among men, Dhananjaya, who was ever the terror of foes, is now living in a guise that is despaired by all. Alas, he whose mace-like arms have been cicatrized in consequence of the strokes of his bow-string, alas that Dhananjaya is passing the days in grief covering his wrists with bracelets of conchs. Alas, that Dhananjaya the twang of whose bow-string and the sound of whose leathern fences made every foe tremble, now entertains only gladdened women with his songs. Oh, that Dhananjaya whose head was formerly decked with a diadem of solar splendour, is now wearing braids ending in unsightly curls. O Bhima, beholding that terrible bowman, Arjuna, now wearing braids and in the midst of women, my heart is stricken with woe. That high-souled hero who is master of all the celestial weapons, and who is the repository of all the sciences, now weareth ear-rings (like one of the fair sex). That youth whom kings of incomparable prowess could not overpower in fight, even as the waters of the mighty ocean cannot overleap the continents, is now the dancing-master of king Virata's daughters and waits upon them in disguise. O Bhima, that Arjuna the clatter of whose car-wheels caused the entire earth with her mountains and forests, her mobile and immobile things to tremble, and whose birth dispelled all the sorrows of Kunti, that exalted hero, that younger brother of thine, O Bhimasena, now maketh me weep for him. Beholding him coming towards me, decked in golden ear-rings and other ornaments, and wearing on the wrists bracelets of conchs, my heart is afflicted with despondency. And Dhananjaya who hath not a bowman equal unto him on earth in prowess, now passeth his days in singing, surrounded by women. Beholding that son of Pritha who in virtue, heroism and truth, was the most admired in the world, now living in the guise of a woman, my heart is afflicted with sorrow. When I behold, the godlike Partha in the music-hall like an elephant with rent temples surrounded by she-elephants in the midst of females, waiting before Virata the king of the Matsyas, then I lose all sense of directions. Surely, my mother-in-law doth not know Dhananjaya to be afflicted with such extreme distress. Nor doth she know that descendant of the Kuru race, Ajatasatru, addicted to disastrous dice, to be sunk in misery. O Bharata, beholding the youngest of you all, Sahadeva, superintending the kine, in the guise of a cowherd, I grow pale. Always thinking of Sahadeva's plight, I cannot, O Bhimasena, obtain sleep,--what to speak you of the rest? I do not know, O mighty-armed one, what sin Sahadeva may have committed for which that hero of unbaffled prowess suffereth such misery. O foremost of the Bharatas, beholding that beloved brother of thine, that bull among men, employed by Matsya in looking after his kine, I am filled with woe. Seeing that hero of proud disposition gratifying Virata, by living at the head of his cowherds, attired in robes dyed in red, I am attacked with fever. My mother-in-law always applauds the heroic Sahadeva as one possessed of nobility, excellent behaviour, and rectitude of conduct. Ardently attached to her sons, the weeping Kunti stood, embracing Sahadeva while he was about to set out (with us) for the great forest. And she addressed me saying, "Sahadeva is bashful and sweet-speeched, and virtuous. He is also my favourite child. Therefore, O Yajnaseni, tend him in the forest day and night. Delicate and brave, devoted to the king, and always worshipping his elder brother, do thou, O Panchali, feed him thyself." O Pandava, beholding that foremost of warriors, Sahadeva, engaged in tending kine, and sleeping at night on calf-skins, how can I bear to live? He again who is crowned with the three attributes of beauty, arms, and intelligence, is now the superintendent of Virata's steeds. Behold the change brought on by time. Granthika (Nakula), at sight of whom hostile hosts fled from the field of battle, now traineth horses in the presence of the king, driving them with the speed. Alas, I now see that handsome youth wait upon the gorgeously decked and excellent Virata, the king of the Matsyas, and display horses before him. O son of Pritha, afflicted as I am with all these hundred kinds of misery on account of Yudhishthira, why dost thou, O chastiser of foes, yet deem me happy? Listen now to me, O son of Kunti, as I tell thee of other woes far surpassing these. What can be sadder to me than miseries so various as these should emaciate me while ye are alive.'" SECTION XX "Draupadi said, 'Alas, on account of that desperate gambler, I am now under Sudeshna's command, living in the palace in the guise of a _Sairindhri_. And, O chastiser of foes, behold the plight of poignant woe which I, a princess, am now in. I am living in expectation of the close of this stated period.[14] The extreme of misery, therefore, is mine. Success of purpose, victory, and defeat, as regards mortals, are transitory. It is in this belief that I am living in expectation of the return of prosperity to my husbands. Prosperity and adversity revolve like a wheel. It is in this belief that I am living in expectation of the return of prosperity to my husbands. That cause which bringeth on victory, may bring defeat as well. I live in this hope. Why dost thou not, O Bhimasena, regard me as one dead? I have heard that persons that give may beg: that they who slay may be slain; and that they who over-throw others may themselves be overthrown by foes. Nothing is difficult for Destiny and none can over-ride Destiny. It is for this that I am awaiting the return of favourable fortune. As a tank once dried, is filled up once again, so hoping for a change for the better, I await the return of prosperity. When one's business that hath been well-provided for is seen to be frustrated, a truly wise person should never strive for bringing back good fortune. Plunged as I am an sorrow, asked or unasked by thee to explain the purpose of these words spoken by me, I shall tell thee everything. Queen of the sons of Pandu and daughter of Drupada, who else, save myself, would wish to live, having fallen into such a plight? O represser of foes, the misery, therefore, that hath overtaken me, hath really humiliated the entire _Kuru_ race, the Panchalas, and the sons of Pandu. Surrounded by numerous brothers and father-in-law and sons, what other woman having such cause for joy, save myself, would be afflicted with such woe? Surely, I must, in my childhood, have committed act highly offensive to _Dhatri_ through whose displeasure, O bull of the Bharata race, I have been visited with such consequences. Mark, O son of Pandu, the pallour that hath come over my complexion which not even a life in the woods fraught as it was with extreme misery, could bring about. Thou, O Pritha's son, knowest what happiness, O Bhima, was formerly mine. Even I, who was such have now sunk into servitude. Sorely distressed, I can find no rest. That the mighty-armed and terrible bowman, Dhananjaya the son of Pritha, should now live like a fire that hath been put out, maketh me think of all this as attributable to Destiny. Surely, O son of Pritha, it is impossible for men to understand the destinies of creatures (in this world). I, therefore, think this downfall of yours as something that could not be averted by forethought. Alas, she who hath you all, that resemble Indra himself to attend to her comforts--even she, so chaste and exalted, hath now to attend to the comforts of others, that are to her far inferior in rank. Behold, O Pandava, my plight. It is what I do not deserve. You are alive, yet behold this inversion of order that time hath brought. She who had the whole Earth to the verge of the sea under her control, is now under the control of Sudeshna and living in fear of her. She who had dependants to walk both before and behind her, alas, now herself walketh before and behind Sudeshna. This, O Kaunteya, is another grief of mine that is intolerable. O, listen to it. She who had never, save for Kunti, pounded unguents even for her own use, now, good betide thee, poundeth sandal (for others). O Kaunteya, behold these hands of mine which were not so before.' Saying this she showed him her hands marked with corns. And she continued, 'she who had never feared Kunti herself nor thee and thy brothers, now standeth in fear before Virata as a slave, anxious of what that king of kings may say unto her regarding the proper preparation of the unguents, for Matsya liketh not sandal pounded by others.'" [14] What Draupadi means is that instead of passing her days in joy and happiness, instead of being able to wish time to be stationary with her, she is obliged in consequence of her misery, to wish time to pass off quickly. Vaisampayana continued, "Relating her woes thus, O Bharata, unto Bhimasena, Krishna began to weep silently, casting her eyes on Bhima. And then, with words choked in tears, and sighing repeatedly, she addressed Bhima in these words, powerfully stirring his heart, 'Signal, O Bhima, must have been my offence of old unto the gods, for, unfortunate as I am. I am yet alive, when, O Pandava, I should die.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then that slayer of hostile heroes, Vrikodara, covering his face with those delicate hands of his wife marked with corns, began to weep. And that mighty son of Kunti, holding the hands of Draupadi in his, shed copious tears. And afflicted with great woe, he spoke these words." SECTION XXI "Bhima said, 'Fie on the might of my arms and fie on the _Gandiva_ of Phalguna, inasmuch as thy hands, red before, now become covered with corns. I would have caused a carnage in Virata's court but for the fact that Kunti's son eyed me (by way of forbidding it), or like a mighty elephant, I would, without ado, have crushed the head of Kichaka intoxicated with the pride of sovereignty. When, O Krishna, I beheld thee kicked by Kichaka, I conceived at that instant a wholesale slaughter of the Matsyas. Yudhishthira, however, forbade me by a glance, and, O beauteous lady, understanding his intention I have kept quiet. That we have been deprived of our kingdom, that I have not yet slain the Kurus, that I have not yet taken the heads of Suyodhana and Karna, and Suvala's son Sakuni, and the wicked Duhsasana, these acts and omissions, O lady, are consuming every limb of mine. The thought of those abides in my heart like a javelin implanted in it. O thou of graceful hips, do not sacrifice virtue, and, O noble-hearted lady, subdue thy wrath. If king Yudhishthira hear from thee such rebukes, he will surely put an end to his life. If also Dhananjaya and the twins hear thee speak thus, even they will renounce life. And if these, O slender-waisted maiden, give up life, I also shall not be able to bear my own. In olden days Sarjati's daughter, the beautiful Sukanya, followed into the forest Chyavana of Bhrigu's race, whose mind was under complete control, and over whom, while engaged in ascetic meditation, the ants had built a hill. Thou mayst have heard that Indrasena also who in beauty was like unto _Narayani_ herself, followed her husband aged a thousand years. Thou mayst have heard that Janaka's daughter Sita, the princess of Videha, followed her lord while living in dense woods. And that lady of graceful hips, Rama's beloved wife, afflicted with calamities and persecuted by the Rakshasas, at length regained the company of Rama. Lopamudra also, O timid one, endued with youth and beauty, followed Agastya, renouncing all the objects of enjoyment unattainable by men. And the intelligent and faultless Savitri also followed the heroic Satyavan, the son of Dyumatsena, alone into the world of Yama. Even like these chaste and beautiful ladies that I have named, thou, O blessed girl, bloomest with every virtue. Do thou spend a short while more that is measured by even a half month. And when the thirteenth year is complete, thou wilt (again) become the Queen regnant of a king.' Hearing these words, Draupadi said, 'Unable, O Bhima, to bear my griefs, it is from grief alone that I have shed these tears. I do not censure Yudhishthira. Nor is there any use in dwelling on the past. O Bhima of mighty strength, come quickly forward to the work of the hour. O Bhima, Kaikeyi, jealous of my beauty, always pains me by her endeavours to prevent the king from taking a fancy to me. And understanding this disposition of hers, the wicked-souled Kichaka of immoral ways constantly solicits me himself. Angry with him for this, but then suppressing my wrath I answer that wretch deprived of sense by lust, saying, "O Kichaka, protect thyself. I am the beloved queen and wife of five Gandharvas. Those heroes in wrath will slay thee that art so rash." Thus addressed, Kichaka of wicked soul replied unto me, saying, "I have not the least fear of the Gandharvas, O Sairindhri of sweet smiles. I will slay hundred thousand Gandharvas, encountering them in battle. Therefore, O timid one, do thou consent." Hearing all this, I again addressed the lust-afflicted Suta, saying, "Thou art no match for those illustrious Gandharvas. Of respectable percentage and good disposition, I ever adhere to virtue and never wish for the death of any one. It is for this that thou I vest, O Kichaka!" At this, that wight of wicked soul burst out into a loud laughter. And it came to pass that Kaikeyi previously urged by Kichaka, and moved by affection for her brother, and desirous of doing him a good turn, despatched me to him, saying "Do thou, O Sairindhri, fetch wine from Kichaka's quarters!" On beholding me the Suta's son at first addressed me in sweet words, and when that failed, he became exceedingly enraged, and intended to use violence. Understanding the purpose of the wicked Kichaka, I speedily rushed towards the place where the king was. Felling me on the ground the wretch then kicked me in the very presence of the king himself and before the eyes of Kanka and many others, including charioteers, and royal favourites, and elephant-riders, and citizens. I rebuked the king and Kanka again and again. The king, however, neither prevented Kichaka, nor inflicted any chastisement on him. The principal ally of king Virata in war, the cruel Kichaka reft of virtue is loved by both the king and the queen. O exalted one, brave, proud, sinful, adulterous, and engrossed in all objects of enjoyment, he earneth immense wealth (from the king), and robs the possessions of others even if they cry in distress. And he never walketh in the path of virtue, nor doth he any virtuous act. Of wicked soul, and vicious disposition, haughty and villainous, and always afflicted by the shafts of Kama, though repulsed repeatedly, if he sees me again, he will outrage me. I shall then surely renounce my life. Although striving to acquire virtue (on my death) your highly meritorious acts will come to naught. Ye that are now obeying your pledge, ye will lose your wife. By protecting one's wife one's offspring are protected, and by protecting one's offspring, one's own self is protected. And it is because one begets one's own self in one's wife that the wife is called _Jaya_[15] by the wise. The husband also should be protected by the wife, thinking,--_How else will he take his birth in my womb_?--I have heard it from Brahmanas expounding the duties of the several orders that a Kshatriya hath no other duty than subduing enemies. Alas, Kichaka kicked me in the very presence of Yudhishthira the Just, and also of thyself, O Bhimasena of mighty strength. It was thou, O Bhima, that didst deliver me from the terrible Jatasura. It was thou also that with thy brothers didst vanquish Jayadratha. Do thou now slay this wretch also who hath insulted me. Presuming upon his being a favourite of the king, Kichaka, O Bharata, hath enhanced my woe. Do thou, therefore, smash this lustful wight even like an earthen pot dashed upon a stone. If, O Bharata, tomorrow's sun sheds his rays upon him who is the source of many griefs of mine, I shall, surely, mixing poison (with some drink), drink it up,--for I never shall yield to Kichaka. Far better it were, O Bhima, that I should die before thee.'" [15] _Jayate asyas_--i.e., she from whom one is born. Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, Krishna, hiding her face in Bhima's breast began to weep. And Bhima, embracing her, consoled her to the best of his power. And having abundantly consoled that slender-waisted daughter of Drupada by means of words fraught with grave reason and sense, he wiped with his hands her face flooded with tears. And thinking of Kichaka and licking with his tongue the corners of his mouth, Bhima, filled with wrath thus spake to that distressed lady." SECTION XXII "Bhima said, 'I will, O timid one, do even as thou sayest. I will presently slay Kichaka with all his friends. O Yajnaseni of sweet smiles, tomorrow evening, renouncing sorrow and grief, manage to have a meeting with Kichaka. The dancing-hall that the king of the Matsya hath caused to be erected is used by the girls for dancing during the day. They repair, however, to their homes at night. There in that hall, is an excellent and well-placed wooden bed-stead. Even there I will make him see the spirits of his deceased grandsires. But, O beautiful one, when thou holdest converse with him, thou must manage it so that others may not espy thee.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having thus conversed with others, and shed tears in grief, they waited for the dawn of that night with painful impatience. And when the night had passed away, Kichaka, rising in the morning, went to the palace, and accosted Draupadi saying, 'Throwing thee down in the court I kicked thee in the presence of the king. Attacked by mighty self, thou couldst not obtain protection. This Virata is in name only the king of the Matsyas. Commanding the forces of this realm it is I, who am the real lord of the Matsyas. Do thou, O timid one, accept me cheerfully. I shall become thy slave. And, O thou of graceful hips, I will immediately give thee a hundred _nishkas_, and engage a hundred male and a hundred female servants (to tend thee), and will also bestow on thee cars yoked with she-mules. O timid lady, let our union take place.' Draupadi replied, 'O Kichaka, know even this is my condition. Neither thy friends nor thy brothers should know thy union with me. I am a terror of detection by those illustrious Gandharvas. Promise me this, and I yield to thee.' Hearing this Kichaka said, 'I will, O thou of graceful hips, do even as thou sayest. Afflicted by the god of love, I will, O beauteous damsel, alone repair to thy abode for union with thee, O thou of thighs round and tapering like the trunks of the plantain,--so that those Gandharvas, effulgent as the sun, may not come to know of this act of thine.' Draupadi said, 'Do thou, when it is dark, go to the dancing-hall erected by the king of the Matsyas where the girls dance during the day, repairing to their respective homes at night. The Gandharvas do not know that place. We shall then without doubt, escape all censure.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Reflecting on the subject of her conversation with Kichaka, that half a day seemed to Krishna as long as a whole month. And the stupid Kichaka also, not knowing that it was Death that had assumed the form of a _Sairindhri_, returning home experienced the greatest delight. And deprived of sense by lust, Kichaka became speedily engaged in embellishing his person with unguents and garlands and ornaments. And while he was doing all this, thinking of that damsel of large eyes, the day seemed to him to be without an end. And the beauty of Kichaka, who was about to forsake his beauty for ever, seemed to heighten, like the wick of a burning lamp about to expire. And reposing the fullest confidence in Draupadi, Kichaka, deprived of his senses by lust and absorbed in the contemplation of expected meeting, did not even perceive that the day had departed. Meanwhile, the beautiful Draupadi approaching her husband Bhima of the Kuru race, stood before him in the kitchen. And that lady with tresses ending in beautiful curls then spake unto him, saying, 'O chastiser of foes, even as thou hadst directed, I have given Kichaka to understand that our meeting will take place in the dancing-hall. Alone will he come at night to the empty hall. Slay him there, O thou of mighty arms. Do thou, O son of Kunti, repair to that dancing-hall, and take the life, O Pandava, of Kichaka, that son of a _Suta_ intoxicated with vanity. From vanity alone, that son of a _Suta_ slights the Gandharvas. O best of smiters, lift him up from the earth even as Krishna had lifted up the _Naga_ (Kaliya) from the Yamuna. O Pandava, afflicted as I am with grief, wipe thou my tears, and blessed be thou, protect thy own honour and that of thy race.' "Bhima said, 'Welcome, O beauteous lady. Except the glad tidings thou bringest me, I need, O thou of exceeding beauty, no other aid whatever. The delight that I feel, O thou of great beauty, on hearing from thee about my coming encounter with Kichaka, is equal to what I felt in slaying Hidimva. I swear unto thee by Truth, by my brothers, and by morality, that I will slay Kichaka even as the lord of the celestials slew Vritra. Whether secretly or openly, I will crush Kichaka, and if the Matsyas fight for him, then I will slay them too. And slaying Duryodhana afterwards, I shall win back the earth. Let Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, continue to pay homage unto the king of Matsya.' Hearing these words of Bhima, Draupadi said, 'In order that, O lord, thou mayst not have to renounce the truth already pledged to me, do thou, O hero, slay Kichaka in secret.' Bhima assuring her said, 'Even today I shall slay Kichaka together with his friends unknown to others during the darkness of the night. I shall, O faultless lady, crush, even as an elephant crusheth a _vela_ fruit,[16] the head of the wicked Kichaka who wisheth for what is unattainable by him!'" [16] Some texts read, _Vilwam nagaviodhara--i.e.,_ 'As an elephant lifts up a vela fruit.' Vaisampayana continued, "Repairing first to the place of assignation at night, Bhima sat down, disguising himself. And he waited there in expectation of Kichaka, like a lion lying in wait for a deer. And Kichaka, having embellished his person as he chose, came to the dancing-hall at the appointed time in the hope of meeting Panchali. And thinking of the assignation, he entered the chamber. And having entered that hall enveloped in deep gloom, that wretch of wicked soul came upon Bhima of incomparable prowess, who had come a little before and who was waiting in a corner. And as an insect approacheth towards a flaming fire, or a puny animal towards a lion, Kichaka approached Bhima, lying down in a bed and burning in anger at the thought of the insult offered to Krishna, as if he were the Suta's Death. And having approached Bhima, Kichaka possessed by lust, and his heart and soul filled with ecstacy smilingly said, 'O thou of pencilled eye-brows, to thee I have already given many and various kinds of wealth from the stores earned by me, as well as hundred maids and many fine robes, and also a mansion with an inner apartment adorned with beauteous and lovely and youthful maid servants and embellished by every kind of sports and amusements. And having set all those apart for thee, I have speedily come hither. And all on a sudden, women have begun to praise me, saying, _There is not in this world any other person like unto thee in beauty and dress_!' Hearing this, Bhima said, 'It is well that thou art handsome, and it is well thou praisest thyself. I think, however, that thou hadst never before this such pleasurable touch! Thou hast an acute touch, and knowest the ways of gallantry. Skilled in the art of love-making, thou art a favourite with women. There is none like thee in this world!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Saying this, that son of Kunti, the mighty-armed Bhima of terrible prowess, suddenly rose up, and laughingly said, 'Thy sister, O wretch, shall today behold thee dragged by me to the ground, like a mighty elephant, huge as a mountain, dragged to the ground by a lion. Thyself slain _Sairindhri_ will live in peace, and we, her husbands, will also live in peace.' Saying this, the mighty Bhima seized Kichaka by the hairs of his head, which were adorned with garlands. And thus seized with force by the hair, that foremost of mighty persons, Kichaka, quickly freed his hair and grasped the arms of Bhima. And then between those lions among men, fired with wrath, between that chief of the Kichaka clan, and that best of men, there ensued a hand-to-hand encounter, like that between two powerful elephants for a female elephant in the season of spring, or like that which happened in days of yore between those lions among monkeys, the brothers Vali and Sugriva. And both equally infuriate and both eager for victory, both those combatants raised their arms resembling snakes furnished with five hoods, and attacked each other with their nails and teeth, wrought up to frenzy of wrath. Impetuously assailed by the powerful Kichaka in that encounter, the resolute Bhima did not waver a single step. And locked in each other's embraces and dragging each other, they fought on like two mighty bulls. And having nails and teeth for their weapons, the encounter between them was fierce and terrible like that of two furious tigers. And felling each other in fury, they encountered each other like a couple of elephants with rent temples. And the mighty Bhima then seized Kichaka, and Kichaka, that foremost of strong persons threw Bhima down with violence. And as those mighty combatants fought on, the crash of their arms produced a loud noise that resembled the clatter of splitting bamboos. Then Vrikodara throwing Kichaka down by main force within the room, began to toss him about furiously even as a hurricane tosseth a tree. And attacked thus in battle by the powerful Bhima, Kichaka grew weak and began to tremble. For all that, however, he tugged at the Pandava to the best of his power. And attacking Bhima, and making him wave a little, the mighty Kichaka struck him with his knees and brought him down to the ground. And overthrown by the powerful Kichaka, Bhima quickly rose up like Yama himself with mace in hand. And thus that powerful _Suta_ and the Pandava, intoxicated with strength and challenging each other, grappled with each other at midnight in that solitary place. And as they roared at each other in wrath, that excellent and strong edifice began to shake every moment. And slapped on the chest by the mighty Bhima, Kichaka fired with wrath moved not a single pace. And bearing for a moment only that onslaught incapable of being born on earth, the _Suta_, overpowered by Bhima's might, became enfeebled. And seeing him waning weak, Bhima endued with great strength forcibly drew Kichaka towards his breast, and began to press hard. And breathing hard again and again in wrath, that best of victors, Vrikodara, forcibly seized Kichaka by the hair. And having seized Kichaka, the mighty Bhima began to roar like a hungry tiger that hath killed a large animal. And finding him exceedingly exhausted, Vrikodara bound him fast with his arms, as one binds a beast with a cord. And then Bhima began for a long while, to whirl the senseless Kichaka, who began to roar frightfully like a broken trumpet.[17] And in order to pacify Krishna's wrath Vrikodara grasped Kichaka's throat with his arms and began to squeeze it. And assailing with his knees the waist of that worst of the Kichakas, all the limbs of whose body had been broken into fragments and whose eye-lids were closed, Vrikodara slew him, as one would slay a beast. And beholding Kichaka entirely motionless, the son of Pandu began to roll him about on the ground. And Bhima then said, 'Slaying this wretch who intended to violate our wife,--this thorn in the side of _Sairindhri_, I am freed from the debt I owed to my brothers, and have attained perfect peace.' And having said this, that foremost of men, with eyes red in wrath, relinquished his hold of Kichaka, whose dress and ornaments had been thrown off his person, whose eyes were rolling, and whose body was yet trembling. And that foremost of mighty persons, squeezing his own hands, and biting his lips in rage, again attacked his adversary and thrust his arms and legs and neck and head into his body like the wielder of the _Pinaka_ reducing into shapeless mass the deer, which form sacrifice had assumed in order to escape his ire. And having crushed all his limbs, and reduced him into a ball of flesh, the mighty Bhimasena showed him unto Krishna. And endued with mighty energy that hero then addressed Draupadi, that foremost of all women, saying, 'Come princess of Panchala, and see what hath become of that lustful wretch!' And saying this, Bhima of terrible prowess began to press with his feet the body of that wicked wight. And lighting a torch then and showing Draupadi the body of Kichaka, that hero addressed her, saying, 'O thou of tresses ending in beautiful curls, those that solicit thee, endued as thou art with an excellent disposition and every virtue, will be slain by me even as this Kichaka hath been, O timid one.' And having accomplished that difficult task so highly agreeable to Krishna--having indeed slain Kichaka and thereby pacified his wrath, Bhima bade farewell to Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, and quickly went back to the kitchen. And Draupadi also, that best of women, having caused Kichaka to be slain had her grief removed and experienced the greatest delight. And addressing the keepers of the dancing-hall, she said, 'Come ye and behold Kichaka who had violated after other people's wives lieth down here, slain by my Gandharva husbands.' And hearing these words the guards of the dancing hall soon came by thousands to that spot, torches in hand. And repairing to that room, they beheld the lifeless Kichaka thrown on the ground, drenched with blood. And beholding him without arms and legs, they were filled with grief. And as they gazed at Kichaka, they were struck with amazement. And seeing that superhuman act, viz., the overthrow of Kichaka, they said, 'Where is his neck, and where are his legs?' And beholding him in this plight they all concluded that he had been killed by a Gandharva." [17] _Weri_ means both a kettle-drum and a trumpet. The latter however conveys a better meaning here. SECTION XXII Vaisampayana said, "Then all the relatives of Kichaka, arriving at that place, beheld him there and began to wail aloud, surrounding him on all sides. And beholding Kichaka with every limb mangled, and lying like a tortoise dragged to dry ground from the water, all of them were overcome with exceeding fright, and the bristles of their bodies stood on end. And seeing him crushed all over by Bhima, like a Danava by Indra, they proceeded to take him outside, for performing his funeral obsequies. And then those persons of the _Suta_ clan thus assembled together espied Krishna of faultless limbs hard by, who stood reclining on a pillar. And all the Kichakas assembled there, exclaimed, 'Let this unchaste woman be slain for whom Kichaka hath himself lost his life. Or, without slaying her here, let us cremate her with him that had lusted after her,--for it behoveth us to accomplish in every way what is agreeable to that deceased son of _Suta_.' And then they addressed Virata, saying, 'It is for her sake that Kichaka hath lost his life. Let him, therefore, be cremated along with her. It behoveth thee to grant this permission.' Thus addressed by them, king Virata, O monarch, knowing fully well the prowess of the _Suta_ gave his assent to _Sairindhri_ being burnt along with the _Suta's_ son. And at this, the Kichakas approaching the frightened and stupefied Krishna of lotus-like eyes, seized her with violence. And binding that damsel of slender waist and placing her upon the bier, they set out with great energy towards the cemetery. And, O king, while thus forcibly carried towards the cemetery by those sons of the _Suta_ tribe, the blameless and chaste Krishna living under the protections of her lords, then wailed aloud for the help of her husbands, saying, 'Oh, let Jaya, and Jayanta, and Vijaya and Jayatsena, and Jayadvala listen to my words. The _Sutas_ are taking me away. Let those illustrious Gandharvas endued with speed of hand, the clatter of whose cars is loud and the twang of whose bowstrings in the midst of the mighty conflict are heard like the roar of thunder, listen to my words,--the _Sutas_ are taking me away!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing those sorrowful words and lamentations of Krishna, Bhima, without a moment's reflection started up from his bed and said, 'I have heard, O _Sairindhri_ the words thou hast spoken. Thou hast, therefore, O timid lady, no more fear at the hands of the _Sutas._'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, the mighty-armed Bhima desirous of slaying the Kichakas, began to swell his body. And carefully changing his attire, he went out of the palace by a wrong egress. And climbing over a wall by the aid of a tree, he proceeded towards the cemetery whither the Kichakas had gone. And having leapt over the wall, and gone out of the excellent city, Bhima impetuously rushed to where the _Sutas_ were. And, O monarch, proceeding towards the funeral pyre he beheld a large tree, tall as palmyra-palm, with gigantic shoulders and withered top. And that slayer of foes grasping with his arms that tree measuring ten _Vyamas_, uprooted it, even like an elephant, and placed it upon his shoulders. And taking up that tree with trunk and branches and measuring ten _Vyamas_, that mighty hero rushed towards the _Sutas_, like Yama himself, mace in hand. And by the impetus of his rush[18] banians and peepals and _Kinsukas_ falling down on the earth lay in clusters. And beholding that Gandharva approach them like a lion in fury, all the _Sutas_ trembling with fear and greatly distressed, became panic-struck. And they addressed each other, saying, 'Lo, the powerful Gandharva cometh hither, filled with rage, and with an upraised tree in hand. Let _Sairindhri_, therefore, from whom this danger of ours hath arisen, be set free.' And beholding the tree that had been uprooted by Bhimasena, they set Draupadi free and ran breathlessly towards the city. And seeing them run away, Bhima, that mighty son of the Wind-god, despatched, O foremost of kings, by means of that tree, a hundred and five of them unto the abode of Yama, like the wielder of the thunderbolt slaying the Danavas. And setting Draupadi free from her bonds, he then, O king, comforted her. And that mighty-armed and irrepressible Vrikodara, the son of Pandu, then addressed the distressed princess of Panchala with face bathed in tears, saying, 'Thus, O timid one, are they slain that wrong thee without cause. Return, O Krishna, to the city. Thou hast no longer any fear; I myself will go to the Virata's kitchen by another route.'" [18] Literature, force of his thighs. Vaisampayana continued, "It was thus, O Bharata, that a hundred and five of those Kichakas were slain. And their corpses lay on the ground, making the place look like a great forest overspread with uprooted trees after a hurricane. Thus fell those hundred and five Kichakas. And including Virata's general slain before, the slaughtered Sutas numbered one hundred and six. And beholding that exceedingly wonderful feat, men and women that assembled together, were filled with astonishment. And the power of speech, O Bharata, was suspended in every one." SECTION XXIV Vaisampayana said, "And beholding the Sutas slain, the citizens went to the king, and represented unto him what had happened, saying, 'O king, those mighty sons of the Sutas have all been slain by the Gandharvas. Indeed, they lie scattered on the earth like huge peaks of mountains riven by thunder. _Sairindhri_ also, having been set free, returneth to thy palace in the city. Alas, O king, if _Sairindhri_ cometh, thy entire kingdom will be endangered. _Sairindhri_ is endued with great beauty; the Gandharvas also are exceedingly powerful. Men again, without doubt, are naturally sexual. Devise, therefore, O king, without delay, such means that in consequence of wrongs done to _Sairindhri_, thy kingdom may not meet with destruction.' Hearing those words of theirs, Virata, that lord of hosts, said unto them, 'Do ye perform the last rites of the Sutas. Let all the Kichakas be burnt, in one blazing pyre with gems and fragrant unguents in profusion.' And filled with fear, the king then addressed his queen Sudeshna, saying, 'When _Sairindhri_ comes back, do thou tell her these words from me, "Blessed be thou, O fair-faced _Sairindhri_. Go thou whithersoever thou likest. The king hath been alarmed, O thou of graceful hips, at the defeat already experienced at the hands of the Gandharvas. Protected as thou art by the Gandharvas, I dare not personally say all this to thee. A woman, however, cannot offend, and it is for this that I tell thee all this through a woman."'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus delivered by Bhimasena after the slaughter of the Sutas, the intelligent and youthful Krishna relieved from all her fears, washed her limbs and clothes in water, and proceeded towards the city, like a doe frightened by a tiger. And beholding her, the citizens, O king, afflicted with the fear of the Gandharvas fled in all directions. And some of them went so far as to shut their eyes. And then, O king, at the gate of the kitchen, the princess of Panchala saw Bhimasena staying, like an infuriate elephant of gigantic proportions. And looking upon him with wonder-expanded eyes, Draupadi, by means of words intelligible to them alone, said, 'I bow unto that prince of the Gandharvas, who hath rescued me.' At these words of her, Bhima said, 'Hearing these words of hers in obedience to whom those persons were hitherto living in the city, they will henceforth range here, regarding themselves as freed from the debt.'"[19] [19] What Bhima says is this.--The Gandharvas, your husbands, are always obedient to thee! If they have been able to do thee a service, they have only repaid a debt. Vaisampayana continued, "Then she beheld the mighty-armed Dhananjaya, in the dancing-hall instructing king Virata's daughters in dancing. And issuing with Arjuna from the dancing-hall, all those damsels came to Krishna who had arrived there, and who had been persecuted so sorely, all innocent though she was. And they said, 'By good luck also it is, O _Sairindhri_, that thou hast been delivered from thy dangers. By good luck it is that thou hast returned safe. And by good luck also it is that those Sutas have been slain that had wronged thee, innocent though thou art.' Hearing this, Vrihannala said, 'How hast thou, O _Sairindhri_, been delivered? And how have those sinful wretches been slain? I wish to learn all this from thee exactly as it occurred.' _Sairindhri_ replied, 'O blessed Vrihannala, always passing thy days happily in the apartments of the girls, what concern hast thou with _Sairindhri's_ fate to say? Thou hast no grief to bear that _Sairindhri_ hath to bear! It is for this, that thou askest me thus, distressed as I am in ridicule.' Thereat Vrihannala said, 'O blessed one, Vrihannala also hath unparalleled sorrows of her own. She hath become as low as a brute. Thou dost not, O girl, understand this. I have lived with thee, and thou too hast lived with us. When, therefore, thou art afflicted with misery, who is it that will not, O thou of beautiful hips, feel it? But no one can completely read another's heart. Therefore it is, O amiable one, that thou knowest not my heart!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then Draupadi, accompanied by those girls entered the royal abode, desirous of appearing before Sudeshna. And when she came before the queen, Virata's wife addressed her at the command of the king, saying, 'Do thou, O _Sairindhri_, speedily go whithersoever thou likest. The king, good betide thee, hath been filled with fear at this discomfiture at the hands of the Gandharvas. Thou art, O thou of graceful eye-brows, young and unparalleled on earth in beauty. Thou art, besides, an object of desire with men. The Gandharvas again, are exceedingly wrathful.' Thereat _Sairindhri_ said, 'O beauteous lady, let the king suffer me to live here for only thirteen days more. Without doubt, the Gandharvas also will be highly obliged at this. They will then convey me hence and do what would be agreeable to Virata. Without doubt, the king, by doing this, with his friends, will reap great benefit.'" SECTION XXV Vaisampayana said, "At the slaughter of Kichaka and brothers, people, O king, thinking of this terrible feat, were filled with surprise. And in the city and the provinces it was generally bruited about that for bravery the king's Vallava and Kichaka were both mighty warriors. The wicked Kichaka, however, had been an oppressor of men and a dishonourer of other people's wives. And it was for this that wicked of sinful soul had been slain by the Gandharvas. And it was thus, O king, that people began to speak, from province to province of the invincible Kichaka, that slayer of hostile ranks. "Meanwhile, the spies employed by Dhritarashtra's son, having searched various villages and towns and kingdoms and done all that they had been commanded to do and completed their examination, in the manner directed, of the countries indicated in their orders, returned to Nagarupa, gratified with at least one thing that they had learnt.[20] And seeing Dhritarashtra's son king Duryodhana of the Kuru race seated in his court with Drona and Karna and Kripa, with the high-souled Bhishma, his own brothers, and those great warriors--the Trigartas, they addressed him, saying, 'O lord of men, great hath been the care always bestowed by us in the search after the sons of Pandu in that mighty forest. Searched have we through the solitary wilderness abounding with deer and other animals and overgrown with trees and creepers of diverse kind. Searched have we also in arbours of matted woods and plants and creepers of every species, but we have failed in discovering that track by which Pritha's son of irrepressible energy may have gone. Searched have we in these and other places for their foot-prints. Searched have we closely, O king, on mountain tops and in inaccessible fastnesses, in various kingdoms and provinces teeming with people, in encampments and cities. No trace have yet been found of the sons of Pandu. Good betide thee, O bull among men, it seems that they have perished without leaving a mark behind. O foremost of warriors, although we followed in the track of those warriors, yet, O best of men, we soon lost their footprints and do not know their present residence. O lord of men, for some time we followed in the wake of their charioteers. And making our inquiries duly, we truly ascertained what we desired to know. O slayer of foes, the charioteers reached Dwaravati without the sons of Pritha among them. O king, neither the sons of Pandu, nor the chaste Krishna, are in that city of Yadavas. O bull of the Bharata race, we have not been able to discover either their track or their present abode. Salutations to thee, they are gone for good. We are acquainted with the disposition of the sons of Pandu and know something of the feats achieved by them. It behoveth thee, therefore, O lord of men, to give us instructions, O monarch, as to what we should next do in the search after the sons of Pandu. O hero, listen also to these agreeable words of ours, promising great good to thee. King Matsya's commander, Kichaka of wicked soul, by whom the Trigartas, O monarch, were repeatedly vanquished and slain with mighty force, now lieth low on the ground with all his brothers, slain, O monarch, by invisible Gandharvas during the hours of darkness, O thou of unfading glory. Having heard this delightful news about the discomfiture of our enemies, we have been exceedingly gratified, O Kauravya. Do thou now ordain what should next be done.'" [20] _Krita-krita_--Nilakantha explains this to mean 'imagining themselves to have achieved success in their mission' for having learnt of Kichaka's death, they could readily guess the presence of the Pandavas there. This is too far-fetched and does not at all agree with the spirit of their report to Duryodhana below. And then the same word occurs in the very last line of the Section. I take it that in both places the word has been used in the same sense. SECTION XXVI (_Go-harana Parva_) Vaisampayana said, "Having listened to these words of his spies, king Duryodhana reflected inwardly for some time and then addressed his courtiers, saying, 'It is difficult to ascertain the course of events definitely. Discern ye all, therefore, whither the sons of Pandu have gone, of this thirteenth year which they are to pass undiscovered by us all, the greater part hath already expired. What remains is by much the smaller. If, indeed, the sons of Pandu can pass undiscovered what remains of this year, devoted to the vow of truth as they are, they will then have fulfilled their pledge. They will then return like mighty elephants with temporal juice trickling down, or like snakes of virulent poison. Filled with wrath, they will, without doubt, be inflicters of terrible chastisement on the Kurus. It behoveth ye, therefore, to make such efforts without loss of time as may induce the sons of Pandu, acquainted as they are with the proprieties of time, and staying as they now are in painful disguise, to re-enter the woods suppressing their rage. Indeed, adopt ye such means as may remove all causes of quarrel and anxiety from the kingdom, making it tranquil and foeless and incapable of sustaining a diminution of territory.' Hearing these words of Duryodhana, Karna said, 'Let other spies, abler and more cunning, and capable of accomplishing their object, quickly go hence, O Bharata. Let them, well-disguised, wander through swelling kingdoms and populous provinces, prying into assemblies of the learned and delightful retreats of provinces. In the inner apartments of palaces, in shrines and holy spots, in mines and diverse other regions, the sons of Pandu should be searched after with well-directed eagerness. Let the sons of Pandu who are living in disguise be searched after by well-skilled spies in large numbers, devoted to their work, themselves well-disguised, and all well-acquainted with the objects of their search. Let the search be made on the banks of rivers, in holy regions, in villages and towns, in retreats of ascetics, in delightful mountains and mountain-caves.' When Karna ceased, Duryodhana's second brother Duhsasana, wedded to a sinful disposition, then addressed his eldest brother and said, 'O monarch, O lord of men, let those spies only in whom we have confidence, receiving their rewards in advance, once more go after the search. This and what else hath been said by Karna have our fullest approval. Let all the spies engage themselves in the search according to the directions already given. Let these and others engage in the search from province to province according to approved rules. It is my belief, however, that the track the Pandavas have followed or their present abode or occupation will not be discovered. Perhaps, they are closely concealed; perhaps, they have gone to the other side of the ocean. Or, perhaps, proud as they are of their strength and courage, they have been devoured by wild beasts; or perhaps, having been overtaken by some unusual danger, they have perished for eternity. Therefore, O prince of the Kuru race, dispelling all anxieties from thy heart, achieve what thou wilt, always acting according to thy energy.'" SECTION XXVII Vaisampayana said, "Endued with mighty energy and possessed of great discernment, Drona then said, 'Persons like the sons of Pandu never perish nor undergo discomfiture. Brave and skilled in every science, intelligent and with senses under control, virtuous and grateful and obedient to the virtuous Yudhishthira, ever following in the wake of their eldest brother who is conversant with the conclusions of policy and virtue and profit, who is attached to them as a father, and who strictly adhereth to virtue and is firm in truth,--persons like them that are thus devoted to their illustrious and royal brother, who gifted with great intelligence, never injureth any body and who in his turn himself obeyeth his younger brothers, never perish in this way. Why, then, should not (Yudhishthira) the son of Pritha possessing a knowledge of policy, be able to restore the prosperity of his brothers who are so obedient and devoted and high-souled? It is for this that they are carefully waiting for the arrival of their opportunity. Men such as these never perish. This is what I see by my intellect. Do, therefore, quickly and without loss of time, what should now be done, after proper reflection. And let also the abode which the sons of Pandu with souls under control as regards every purpose of life, are to occupy, be now settled. Heroic and sinless and possessed of ascetic merit, the Pandavas are difficult to be discovered (within the period of non-discovery). Intelligent and possessed of every virtue, devoted to truth and versed in the principles of policy, endued with purity and holiness, and the embodiment of immeasurable energy, the son of Pritha is capable of consuming (his foes) by a glance alone of his eyes. Knowing all this, do what is proper. Let us, therefore, once more search after them, sending Brahmanas and _Charanas_, ascetics crowned with success, and others of this kind who may have a knowledge of those heroes!'" SECTION XXVIII Vaisampayana said, "Then that grandsire of the Bharatas, Bhishma the son of Santanu, conversant with the _Vedas_, acquainted with the proprieties of time and place, and possessing a knowledge of every duty of morality, after the conclusion of Drona's speech, applauded the words of the preceptor and spake unto the Bharatas for their benefit these words consistent with virtue, expressive of his attachment to the virtuous Yudhishthira, rarely spoken by men that are dishonest, and always meeting with the approbation of the honest. And the words that Bhishma spake were thoroughly impartial and worshipped by the wise. And the grandsire of the Kurus said, 'The words that the regenerate Drona acquainted with the truth of every affair hath uttered, are approved by me. I have no hesitation in saying so. Endued with every auspicious mark, observant of virtuous vows, possessed of Vedic lore, devoted to religious observances, conversant with various sciences, obedient to the counsels of the aged, adhering to the vow of truth, acquainted with the proprieties of time, observant of the pledge they have given (in respect of their exile), pure in their behaviour, ever adhering to the duties of the Kshatriya order, always obedient to Kesava, high-souled, possessed of great strength, and ever-bearing the burthens of the wise, those heroic ones can never wither under misfortune. Aided by their own energy, sons of Pandu who are now leading a life of concealment in obedience to virtue, will surely never perish. It is even this that my mind surmiseth. Therefore, O Bharata, I am for employing the aid of honest counsel in our behaviour towards the sons of Pandu. It would not be the policy of any wise man to cause them to be discovered now by means of spies,[21] what we should do unto the sons of Pandu, I shall say, reflecting with the aid of the intellect. Know that I shall say nothing from ill will to thee. People like me should never give such counsels to him that is dishonest, for only counsels (like those I would give) should be offered unto them that are honest. Counsels, however, that are evil, should under no circumstances be offered. He, O child, that is devoted to truth and obedient to the aged, he, indeed, that is wise, while speaking in the midst of an assembly, should under all circumstances speak the truth, if the acquisition of virtue be an object with him. I should, therefore, say that I think differently from all those people here, in respect of the abode of Yudhishthira the just in this the thirteenth year of his exile. The ruler, O child, of the city or the province where king Yudhishthira resides cannot have any misfortune. Charitable and liberal and humble and modest must the people be of the country where king Yudhishthira resides. Agreeable in speech, with passions under control, observant of truth, cheerful, healthy, pure in conduct, and skilful in work must the people be of the country where king Yudhishthira resides. The people of the place, where Yudhishthira is, cannot be envious or malicious, or vain, or proud, but must all adhere to their respective duties. Indeed, in the place where Yudhishthira resides, Vedic hymns will be chanted all around, sacrifices will be performed, the last full libations will always be poured,[22] and gifts to Brahmanas will always be in profusion. There the clouds, without doubt, pour abundant rain, and furnished with good harvest the country will ever be without fear. There the paddy will not be without grain, fruits will not be bereft of juice, floral garlands will not be without fragrance, and the conversation of men will always be full of agreeable words. There where king Yudhishthira resides, the breezes will be delicious, the meetings of men will always be friendly, and cause of fear there will be none. There kine will be plentiful, without any of them being lean-fleshed or weak, and milk and curds and butter will all be savoury and nutritious. There where king Yudhishthira resides, every kind of corn will be full of nutrition and every edible full of flavour. There where king Yudhishthira resides, the objects of all the senses, viz.,--taste, touch, smell, and hearing, will be endued with excellent attributes. There where king Yudhishthira resides, the sights and scenes will be gladdening. And the regenerate ones of that place will be virtuous and steady in observing their respective duties. Indeed, in the country where the sons of Pandu may have taken up their abode during this thirteenth year of their exile, the people will be contented and cheerful, pure in conduct and without misery of any kind. Devoted to gods and guests and the worship of these with their whole soul, they will be fond of giving away, and filled with great energy, they will all be observant of eternal virtue. There where king Yudhishthira resides, the people, eschewing all that is evil, will be desirous of achieving only what is good. Always observant of sacrifices and pure vows, and hating untruth in speech, the people of the place where king Yudhishthira may reside will always be desirous of obtaining what is good, auspicious and beneficial. There where Yudhishthira resides, the people will certainly be desirous of achieving what is good, and their hearts will always incline towards virtue, and their vows being agreeable they themselves are ever-engaged in the acquisition of religious merit. O child, that son of Pritha in whom are intelligence and charity, the highest tranquillity and undoubted forgiveness, modesty and prosperity, and fame and great energy and a love for all creatures, is incapable of being found out (now that he hath concealed himself) even by Brahmanas, let alone ordinary persons. The wise Yudhishthira is living in close disguise in regions whose characteristics I have described. Regarding his excellent mode of life, I dare not say anything more. Reflecting well upon all this, do without loss of time what thou mayst think to be beneficial, O prince of the Kuru race, if indeed, thou hast any faith in me.'" [21] This is a very difficult sloka. I am not sure that I have understood it alright. Both Nilakantha and Arjuna Misra are silent. Instead of depending, however, on my own intelligence, I have consulted several friends who have read the _Mahabharata_ thoroughly. The grammatical structure is easy. The only difficulty consists in the second half of the sloka. The meaning, however, I have given is consistent with the tenor of Bhishma's advice. [22] Indicating the unobstructed completion of the sacrifice. SECTION XXIX Vaisampayana said, "Then Saradwata's son, Kripa said, 'What the aged Bhishma hath said concerning the Pandavas is reasonable, suited to the occasion, consistent with virtue and profit, agreeable to the ear, fraught with sound reason, and worthy of him. Listen also to what I would say on this subject. It behoveth thee to ascertain the track they have followed and their abode also by means of spies,[23] and to adopt that policy which may bring about thy welfare. O child, he that is solicitous of his welfare should not disregard even an ordinary foe. What shall I say, then, O child, of the Pandavas who are thorough masters of all weapons in battle. When, therefore, the time cometh for the reappearance of the high-souled Pandavas, who, having entered the forest,[24] are now passing their days in close disguise, thou shouldst ascertain thy strength both in thy own kingdom and in those of other kings. Without doubt, the return of the Pandavas is at hand. When their promised term of exile is over, the illustrious and mighty sons of Pritha, endued with immeasurable prowess, will come hither bursting with energy. Do thou, therefore, in order to conclude an advantageous treaty with them, have recourse to sound policy and address thyself to increase thy forces and improve thy treasury. O child, ascertaining all these, reckon thou thy own strength in respect of all thy allies weak and strong.[25] Ascertaining the efficiency, and weakness, and indifference of thy forces, as also who amongst them are well-affected and who are disaffected, we should either fight the foe or make treaty with him. Having recourse to the arts of conciliation, disunion, chastisement, bribery, presents and fair behaviour, attack thy foes and subdue the weak by might, and win over thy allies and troops and by soft speeches. When thou hast (by these means) strengthened thy army and filled thy treasury, entire success will be thine. When thou hast done all this, thou wilt be able to fight with powerful enemies that may present themselves, let alone the sons of Pandu deficient in troops and animals of their own. By adopting all these expedients according to the customs of thy order, thou wilt, O foremost of men, attain enduring happiness in due time!'" [23] The word _tirtha_ here means, as Nilakantha rightly explains spies and not holy spots. [24] _Satram_ is explained by Nilakantha to mean here 'false disguise.' I think, however, such an interpretation to be far-fetched. It evidently means 'forest',--the use of 'pravisteshu' in connection with it almost settles the point. [25] This sloka is not correctly printed in any of the texts that I have seen. The reading that I adopt is that the second word is the participle of the root _budh_ and not the instrumental of _budhi_; the last word again of the second line is a compound of _valavatsu_ and _avaleshu_ instead of (as printed in many books) _valavatswavaleshu_. Any other reading would certainly be incorrect. I have not consulted the Bombay text. SECTION XXX Vaisampayana said, "Discomfited before, O monarch, many a time and oft by Matsya's _Suta_ Kichaka aided by the Matsyas and the Salyas, the mighty king of the Trigartas, Susarman, who owned innumerable cars, regarding the opportunity to be a favourable one, then spoke the following words without losing a moment. And, O monarch, forcibly vanquished along with his relatives by the mighty Kichaka, king Susarman, eyeing Karna in askance, spoke these words unto Duryodhana, 'My kingdom hath many a time been forcibly invaded by the king of the Matsyas. The mighty Kichaka was that king's generalissimo. Crooked and wrathful and of wicked soul, of prowess famed over all the world, sinful in deeds and highly cruel, that wretch, however, hath been slain by the Gandharvas. Kichaka being dead, king Virata, shorn of pride and his refuge gone, will, I imagine, lose all courage. I think we ought now to invade that kingdom, if it pleases thee, O sinless one, as also the illustrious Karna and all the Kauravas. The accident that hath happened is, I imagine, a favourable one for us. Let us, therefore, repair to Virata's kingdom abounding in corn. We will appropriate his gems and other wealth of diverse kinds, and let us go to share with each other as regards his villages and kingdom. Or, invading his city by force, let us carry off by thousands his excellent kine of various species. Uniting, O king, the forces of the Kauravas and the Trigartas, let us lift his cattle in droves. Or, uniting our forces well, we will check his power by forcing him to sue for peace. Or, destroying his entire host, we will bring Matsya under subjection. Having brought him under subjection by just means, we will live in our kingdom happily, while thy power also will, without doubt, be enhanced.' Hearing these words of Susarman, Karna addressed the king, saying, 'Susarman hath spoken well; the opportunity is favourable and promises to be profitable to us. Therefore, if it pleases thee, O sinless one, let us, drawing up our forces in battle array and marshalling them in divisions, speedily set out. Or, let the expedition be managed as Saradwata's son Kripa, the preceptor Drona, and the wise and aged grandsire of the Kurus may think. Consulting with each other, let us, O lord of earth, speedily set out to attain our end. What business have we with the sons of Pandu, destitute as they are of wealth, might, and prowess? They have either disappeared for good or have gone to the abode of _Yama_. We will, O king, repair without anxiety to Virata's city, and plunder his cattle and other wealth of diverse kinds.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Accepting these words of Karna, the son of Surya, king Duryodhana speedily commanded his brother Duhsasana, born immediately after him and always obedient to his wishes, saying, 'Consulting with the elders, array without delay, our forces. We will with all the Kauravas go to the appointed place. Let also the mighty warrior, king Susarman, accompanied by a sufficient force with vehicles and animals, set out with the Trigartas for the dominions of Matsyas. And let Susarman proceed first, carefully concealing his intention. Following in their wake, we will set out the day after in close array, for the prosperous dominions of king Matsya. Let the Trigartas, however, suddenly repair to the city of Virata, and coming upon the cowherds, seize that immense wealth (of kine). We also marching in two divisions, will seize thousands of excellent kine furnished with auspicious marks.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then, O Lord of earth, those warriors, the Trigartas, accompanied by their infantry of terrible prowess, marched towards the south-eastern direction, intending to wage hostilities with Virata from the desire of seizing his kine. And Susarman set out on the seventh day of the dark fortnight for seizing the kine. And then, O king, on the eighth day following of the dark fortnight, the Kauravas also accompanied by all their troops, began to seize the kine by thousands." SECTION XXXI Vaisampayana said, "O mighty king, entering into king Virata's service, and dwelling in disguise in his excellent city, the high-souled Pandavas of immeasurable prowess, completed the promised period of non-discovery. And after Kichaka had been slain, that slayer of hostile heroes, the mighty king Virata began to rest his hopes on the sons of Kunti. And it was on the expiry of the thirteenth year of their exile, O Bharata, that Susarman seized Virata's cattle by thousands. And when the cattle had been seized, the herdsman of Virata came with great speed to the city, and saw his sovereign, the king of Matsyas, seated on the throne in the midst of wise councillors, and those bulls among men, the sons of Pandu, and surrounded by brave warriors decked with ear-rings and bracelets. And appearing before that enhancer of his dominion--King Virata seated in court--the herdsman bowed down unto him, and addressed him, saying, 'O foremost of kings, defeating and humiliating us in battle along with our friends the Trigartas are seizing thy cattle by hundreds and by thousands. Do thou, therefore, speedily rescue them. Oh, see that they are not lost to thee.' Hearing these words, the king arrayed for battle the Matsya force abounding in cars and elephants and horses and infantry and standards. And kings and princes speedily put on, each in its proper place,[26] their shining and beautiful armour worthy of being worn by heroes. And Virata's beloved brother, Satanika, put on a coat of mail made of adamantine steel, adorned with burnished gold. And Madiraksha, next in birth to Satanika, put on a strong coat of mail plated with gold[27] and capable of resisting every weapon. And the coat of mail that the king himself of the Matsyas put on was invulnerable and decked with a hundred suns, a hundred circles, a hundred spots, and a hundred eyes. And the coat of mail that Suryadatta[28] put on was bright as the sun, plated with gold, and broad as a hundred lotuses of the fragrant (_Kahlara_) species. And the coat of mail that Virata's eldest son, the heroic Sanksha, put on was impenetrable and made of burnished steel, and decked with a hundred eyes of gold. And it was thus that those god-like and mighty warriors by hundreds, furnished with weapons, and eager for battle, each donned his corselet. And then they yoked unto their excellent cars of white-hue steeds equipped in mail. And then was hoisted--Matsya's glorious standard on his excellent car decked with gold and resembling the sun or the moon in its effulgence. And other Kshatriya warriors also raised on their respective cars gold-decked standards of various shapes and devices. And king Matsya then addressed his brother Satanika born immediately after him, saying, 'Kanka and Vallava and Tantripala and Damagranthi of great energy will, as it appears to me fight, without doubt. Give thou unto them cars furnished with banners and let them case their persons in beautiful coats of mail that should be both invulnerable and easy to wear. And let them also have weapons. Bearing such martial forms and possessed of arms resembling the trunk of mighty elephants, I can never persuade myself that they cannot fight.' Hearing these words of the king, Satanika, O monarch, immediately ordered cars for those sons of Pritha, viz., the royal Yudhishthira, and Bhima, and Nakula, and Sahadeva, and commanded by the king, the charioteers, with cheerful hearts and keeping loyalty in view, very soon got cars ready (for the Pandavas). And those repressers of foes then donned those beautiful coats of mail, invulnerable and easy to wear, that Virata had ordered for those heroes of spotless fame. And mounted on cars yoked with good steeds, those smiters of hostile ranks, those foremost of men, the sons of Pritha, set out with cheerful hearts. Indeed, those mighty warriors skilled in fight, those bulls of the Kuru race and sons of Pandu, those four heroic brothers possessed of prowess incapable of being baffled, mounting on cars decked with gold, together set out, following Virata's wake. And infuriate elephants of terrible mien, full sixty years of age, with shapely tusks and rent temples and juice trickling down and looking (on that account) like cloud pouring rain and mounted by trained warriors skilled in fight, followed the king like unto moving hills. And the principal warriors of Matsya who cheerfully followed the king had eight thousand cars, a thousand elephants and sixty thousand horses. And, O bull among the Bharatas, that force of Virata, O king, as it marched forth marking the footprints of the cattle looked exceedingly beautiful. And on its march that foremost of armies owned by Virata, crowded with soldiers armed with strong weapons, and abounding in elephants, horses and cars, looked really splendid." [26] _Bhagasas_ lit., each in its proper place. It may also mean, 'according to their respective division.' [27] _Kalyana-patalam_ is explained by Nilakantha to mean _suvarna pattachchaditam_. [28] One of the generals of Virata. SECTION XXXII Vaisampayana said, "Marching out of the city, those heroic smiters the Matsyas, arrayed in order of battle, overtook the Trigartas when the sun had passed the meridian. And both excited to fury and both desirous of having the king, the mighty Trigartas and the Matsyas, irrepressible in battle, sent up loud roars. And then the terrible and infuriate elephants ridden over by the skilful combatants of both sides were urged on with spiked clubs and hooks. And the encounter, O king, that took place when the sun was low in the horizon, between the infantry and cavalry and chariots and elephants of both parties, was like unto that of old between the gods and the _Asuras_, terrible and fierce and sufficient for making one's hair stand on end and calculated to increase the population of Yama's kingdom. And as the combatants rushed against one another, smiting and slashing, thick clouds of dust began to rise, so that nothing could be discovered. And covered with the dust raised by the contending armies, birds began to drop down on the earth. And the sun himself disappeared behind the thick cloud of arrows shot, and the firmament looked bright as if with myriads of the fireflies. And shifting their bows, the staves of which were decked with gold, from one hand to another, those heroes began to strike each other down, discharging their arrows right and left. And cars encountered cars, and foot-soldiers fought with foot-soldiers, and horse-men with horsemen, and elephants with mighty elephants. And they furiously encountered one another with swords and axes, bearded darts and javelins, and iron clubs. And although, O king, those mighty-armed warriors furiously assailed one another in that conflict, yet neither party succeeded in prevailing over the other. And severed heads, some with beautiful noses, some with upper lips deeply gashed, some decked with ear-rings, and some divided with wounds about the well-trimmed hair were seen rolling on the ground covered with dust. And soon the field of battle was overspread with the limbs of Kshatriya warriors, cut off by means of arrows and lying like trunks of _Sala_ trees. And scattered over with heads decked in ear-rings, and sandal-besmeared arms looking like the bodies of snakes, the field of battle became exceedingly beautiful. And as cars encountered cars, and horsemen encountered horsemen, and foot-soldiers fought with foot-soldiers, and elephants met with elephants, the frightful dust soon became drenched with torrents of blood. And some amongst the combatants began to swoon away, and the warriors began to fight reckless of consideration of humanity, friendship and relationship. And both their course and sight obstructed by the arrowy shower, vultures began to alight on the ground. But although those strong-armed combatants furiously fought with one another, yet the heroes of neither party succeeded in routing their antagonists. And Satanika having slain a full hundred of the enemy and Visalaksha full four hundred, both those mighty warriors penetrated into the heart of the great Trigarta host. And having entered into the thick of the Trigarta host, those famous and mighty heroes began to deprive their antagonists of their senses by causing a closer conflict to set in--a conflict, in which the combatants seized one another by the hair and tore one another with their nails.[29] And eyeing the point where the cars of the Trigartas had been mustered in strong numbers, those heroes at last directed their attack towards it. And that foremost of car-warriors, king Virata also, with Suryadatta in his van and Madiraksha in his rear, having destroyed in that conflict five hundred cars, eight hundred horses, and five warriors on great cars, displayed various skilful manoeuvres on his car on that field of battle. And at last the king came upon the ruler of the Trigartas mounted on a golden chariot. And those high-souled and powerful warriors, desirous of fighting, rushed roaring against each like two bulls in a cow-pen. Then that bull among men, irrepressible in battle, Susarman, the king of the Trigartas, challenged Matsya to a single combat on car. Then those warriors excited to fury rushed against each other on their cars and began to shower their arrows upon each other like clouds pouring torrents of rain.[30] And enraged with each other, those fierce warriors, both skilled in weapons, both wielding swords and darts and maces, then moved about (on the field of battle) assailing each other with whetted arrows. Then king Virata pierced Susarman with ten shafts and each of his four horses also with five shafts. And Susarman also, irresistible in battle and conversant with fatal weapons, pierced king of Matsya with fifty whetted shafts. And then, O mighty monarch, in consequence of the dust on the field of battle, the soldiers of both Susarman and Matsya's king could not distinguish one another." [29] Some differences of reading are noticeable here, for _Yasaswinau_ some texts read _Manaswinau_, and for Vahusamravdhau-Vahusanrambhat; and for Nakha-naki--Ratha-rathi. [30] Some texts read Ghanabiva for Ghanarva. The latter is unquestionably better in form. SECTION XXXIII Vaisampayana said, "Then, O Bharata, when the world was enveloped in dust and the gloom of night, the warriors of both sides, without breaking the order of battle, desisted for a while.[31] And then, dispelling the darkness the moon arose illumining the night and gladdening the hearts of the Kshatriya warriors. And when everything became visible, the battle once more began. And it raged on so furiously that the combatants could not distinguish one another. And then Trigarta's lord, Susarman with his younger brother, and accompanied by all his cars, rushed towards the king of Matsya. And descending from their cars, those bulls among Kshatriyas, the (royal) brothers, mace in hand, rushed furiously towards the cars of the foe. And the hostile hosts fiercely assailed each other with maces and swords and scimitars, battle-axes and bearded darts with keen edges and points of excellent temper. And king Susarman, the lord of the Trigartas having by his energy oppressed and defeated the whole army of the Matsyas, impetuously rushed towards Virata himself endued with great energy. And the two brothers having severally slain Virata's two steeds and his charioteer, as also those soldiers that protected his rear, took him captive alive, when deprived of his car. Then afflicting him sorely, like a lustful man afflicting a defenceless damsel, Susarman placed Virata on his own car, and speedily rushed out of the field. And when the powerful Virata, deprived of his car, was taken captive, the Matsyas, harrassed solely by the Trigartas, began to flee in fear in all directions. And beholding them panic-stricken, Kunti's son, Yudhishthira, addressed that subduer of foes, the mighty-armed Bhima, saying, 'The king of the Matsyas hath been taken by the Trigartas. Do thou, O mighty-armed one, rescue him, so that he may not fall under the power of the enemy. As we have lived happily in Virata's city, having every desire of ours gratified, it behoveth thee, O Bhimasena, to discharge that debt (by liberating the king).' Thereat Bhimasena replied, 'I will liberate him, O king, at thy command. Mark the feat I achieve (today) in battling with the foe, relying solely on the might of my arms. Do thou, O king, stay aside, along with our brothers and witness my prowess today. Uprooting this mighty tree of huge trunk looking like a mace, I will rout the enemy.'" [31] The word in the original is Muhurta equal to 48 minutes. Nilakantha points out very ingeniously that the night being the seventh of the dark fortnight, the moon would not rise till after 14 Dandas from the hour of sunset, a Danda being equal to 24 minutes. A Muhurta, therefore implies not 48 minutes exactly, but some time. Vaisampayana continued, "Beholding Bhima casting his eyes on that tree like a mad elephant, the heroic king Yudhishthira the just spake unto his brother, saying, 'Do not, O Bhima, commit such a rash act. Let the tree stand there. Thou must not achieve such feats in a super-human manner by means of that tree, for if thou dost, the people, O Bharata, will recognise thee and say, _This is Bhima_. Take thou, therefore, some human weapon such as a bow (and arrows), or a dart, or a sword, or a battle-axe. And taking therefore, O Bhima, some weapon that is human, liberate thou the king without giving anybody the means of knowing thee truly. The twins endued with great strength will defend thy wheels. Fighting together, O child, liberate the king of the Matsyas!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, the mighty Bhimasena endued with great speed, quickly took up an excellent bow and impetuously shot from it a shower of arrows, thick as the downpour of a rain-charged cloud. And Bhima then rushed furiously towards Susarman of terrible deeds, and assuring Virata with the words--_O good king!_[32] said unto the lord of the Trigartas,--_Stay! Stay!_ Seeing Bhima like unto Yama himself in his rear, saying, _Stay! Stay! Do thou witness this mighty feat,--this combat that is at hand!_--the bull among warriors, Susarman, seriously considered (the situation), and taking up his bow turned back, along with his brothers. Within the twinkling of an eye, Bhima destroyed those cars that sought to oppose him. And soon again hundreds of thousands of cars and elephants and horses and horsemen and brave and fierce bowmen were overthrown by Bhima in the very sight of Virata. And the hostile infantry also began to be slaughtered by the illustrious Bhima, mace in hand. And beholding that terrible onslaught, Susarman, irrepressible in fight, thought within himself, 'My brother seems to have already succumbed in the midst of his mighty host. Is my army going to be annihilated?' And drawing his bow-string to his ear Susarman then turned back and began to shoot keen-edged shafts incessantly. And seeing the Pandavas return to the charge on their car, the Matsya warriors of mighty host, urging on their steeds, shot excellent weapons for grinding the Trigarta soldiers. And Virata's son also, exceedingly exasperated began to perform prodigious fears of valour. And Kunti's son Yudhishthira slew a thousand (of the foe), and Bhima showed the abode of Yama unto seven thousand. And Nakula sent seven hundred (to their last account) by means of his shafts. And powerful Sahadeva also, commanded by Yudhishthira, slew three hundred brave warriors. And having slain such numbers, that fierce and mighty warrior, Yudhishthira, with weapons upraised, rushed against Susarman. And rushing impetuously at Susarman, that foremost of car-warriors, king Yudhishthira, assailed him with vollies of shafts. And Susarman also, in great rage, quickly pierced Yudhishthira with nine arrows, and each of his four steeds with four arrows. Then, O king, Kunti's son Bhima of quick movements, approaching Susarman crushed his steeds. And having slain also those soldiers that protected his rear, he dragged from the car his antagonist's charioteer to the ground. And seeing the king of Trigarta's car without a driver, the defender of his car-wheels, the famous and brave Madiraksha speedily came to his aid. And thereat, leaping down from Susarman's car, and securing the latter's mace the powerful Virata ran in pursuit of him. And though old, he moved on the field, mace in hand, even like a lusty youth. And beholding Susarman flee Bhima addressed him, saying, 'Desist, O Prince! This flight of thine is not proper! With this prowess of thine, how couldst thou wish to carry off the cattle by force? How also, forsaking thy follower, dost thou droop so amidst foes?' Thus addressed by Pritha's son, the mighty Susarman, that lord of countless cars saying unto Bhima, _Stay! Stay!_--suddenly turned round and rushed at him. Then Bhima, the son of Pandu, leaping down from his car, as he alone could do,[33] rushed forward with great coolness, desirous of taking Susarman's life. And desirous of seizing Trigarta's king advancing towards him, the mighty Bhimasena rushed impetuously towards him, even like a lion rushing at a small deer. And advancing impetuously, the mighty-armed Bhima seized Susarman by the hair, and lifting him up in wrath, dashed him down on the ground. And as he lay crying in agony, the mighty-armed Bhima kicked him at the head, and placing his knee on his breast dealt him severe blows. And sorely afflicted with that kicking, the king of Trigartas became senseless. And when the king of the Trigartas deprived of his car, had been seized thus, the whole Trigarta army stricken with panic, broke and fled in all directions, and the mighty sons of Pandu, endued with modesty and observant of vows and relying on the might of their own arms, after having vanquished Susarman, and rescued the kine as well as other kinds of wealth and having thus dispelled Virata's anxiety, stood together before that monarch. And Bhimasena then said, 'This wretch given to wicked deeds doth not deserve to escape me with life. But what can I do? The king is so lenient!' And then taking Susarman by the neck as he was lying on the ground insensible and covered with dust, and binding him fast, Pritha's son Vrikodara placed him on his car, and went to where Yudhishthira was staying in the midst of the field. And Bhima then showed Susarman unto the monarch. And beholding Susarman in that plight, that tiger among men king Yudhishthira smilingly addressed Bhima--that ornament of battle,--saying, 'Let this worst of men be set free.' Thus addressed, Bhima spoke unto the mighty Susarman, saying, 'If, O wretch, thou wishest to live, listen to those words of mine. Thou must say in every court and assembly of men,--_I am a slave._ On this condition only I will grant thee thy life. Verily, this is the law about the vanquished.' Thereupon his elder brother affectionately addressed Bhima, saying, 'If thou regardest us as an authority, liberate this wicked wight. He hath already become king Virata's slave.' And turning then to Susarman, he said, 'Thou art freed. Go thou a free man, and never act again in this way.'" [32] Some Vikshyainam, Nilakantha explains Sama as a word spoken by Bhima for assuring the captive Virata, and Vikshya as 'assuring' or 'consoling by a glance.' Perhaps this is right. [33] The adjective Bhima-sankasas as explained by Nilakantha is in this sense, quoting the celebrated simile of Valmiki. SECTION XXXIV Vaisampayana said, "Thus addressed by Yudhishthira Susarman was overwhelmed with shame and hung down his head. And liberated (from slavery), he went to king Virata, and having saluted the monarch, took his departure. And the Pandavas also relying on the might of their own arms, and endued with modesty and observant of vows, having slain their enemies and liberated Susarman, passed that night happily on the field of battle. And Virata gratified those mighty warriors, the sons of Kunti, possessed of super-human prowess with wealth and honour. And Virata said, 'All these gems of mine are now as much mine as yours. Do ye according to your pleasure live here happily. And ye smiter of foes in battle, I will bestow on you damsels decked with ornaments, wealth in plenty, and other things that ye may like. Delivered from perils today by your prowess, I am now crowned with victory. Do ye all become the lords of the Matsyas.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And when the king of the Matsyas had addressed them thus, those descendants of the Kurus with Yudhishthira at their head, joining their hands, severally replied unto him saying, 'We are well-pleased with all that thou sayest, O monarch. We, however, have been much gratified that thou hast today been freed from thy foes.' Thus answered, that foremost of kings, Virata the lord of the Matsyas, again addressed Yudhishthira, saying, 'Come, we will install thee in sovereignty of the Matsyas. And we will also bestow on thee things that are rare on earth and are objects of desire, for thou deservest everything at our hands. O foremost of Brahmanas of the _Vaiyaghra_ order I will bestow on thee gems and kine and gold and rubies and pearls. I bow unto thee. It is owing to thee that I once more behold today my sons and kingdom. Afflicted and threatened as I had been with disaster and danger, it is through thy prowess that I have not succumbed to the foe.' Then Yudhishthira again addressed the Matsyas, saying, 'Well-pleased are we with the delightful words that thou hast spoken. Mayst thou be ever happy, always practising humanity towards all creatures. Let messengers now, at thy command, speedily repair into the city, in order to communicate the glad tidings to our friends, and proclaim thy victory.' Hearing these words of him, king Matsya ordered the messengers, saying, 'Do ye repair to the city and proclaim my victory in battle. And let damsels and courtesans, decked in ornaments, come out of the city with every kind of musical instruments.' Hearing this command uttered by the king of the Matsyas, the men, laying the mandate on their head, all departed with cheerful hearts. And having repaired to the city that very night, they proclaimed at the hour of sunrise the victory of the king about the city-gates." SECTION XXXV Vaisampayana said, "When the king of the Matsyas, anxious of recovering the kine, had set out in pursuit of the Trigartas, Duryodhana with his counsellors invaded the dominions of Virata. And Bhishma and Drona, and Karna, and Kripa acquainted with the best of weapons, Aswatthaman, and Suvala's son, and Duhsasana, O lord of men, and Vivingsati and Vikarna and Chitrasena endued with great energy, and Durmukha and Dussaha,--these and many other great warriors, coming upon the Matsya dominion speedily drove off the cowherds of king Virata and forcibly took away the kine. And the Kauravas, surrounding all sides with a multitude of cars, seized sixty thousands of kine. And loud was the yell of woe set up by the cowherds smitten by those warriors in that terrible conflict. And the chief of the cowherds, greatly affrighted speedily mounted on a chariot and set out for the city, bewailing in affliction. And entering the city of the king, he proceeded to the place, and speedily alighting from the chariot, got in for relating (what had happened). And beholding the proud son of Matsya, named Bhuminjaya, he told him everything about the seizure of the royal kine. And he said, 'the Kauravas are taking away sixty thousand kine. Rise, therefore, O enhancer of the kingdom's glory, for bringing back thy cattle. O prince, if thou art desirous of achieving (the kingdom's) good set out thyself without loss of time. Indeed, the king of the Matsyas left thee in the empty city. The king (thy father) boasteth of thee in court, saying, "My son, equal unto me, is a hero and is the supporter of (the glory of) my race. My son is a warrior skilled in arrows and weapons and is always possessed of great courage."--Oh, let the words of that lord of men be true! O chief of herd-owners, bring thou back the kine after vanquishing the Kurus, and consume thou their troops with the terrific energy of thy arrows. Do thou like a leader of elephants rushing at a herd, pierce the ranks of the foe with straight arrows of golden wings, discharged from thy bow. Thy bow is even like a _Vina_. Its two ends represent the ivory pillows; its string, the main chord; its staff, the finger-board; and the arrows shot from it musical notes. Do thou strike in the midst of the foe that _Vina_ of musical sound.[34] Let thy steeds, O lord, of silvery hue, be yoked unto thy car, and let thy standard be hoisted, bearing the emblem of the golden lion. Let thy keen-edged arrows endued with wings of gold, shot by thy strong arms, obstruct the path of those kings and eclipse the very sun. Vanquishing all the Kurus in battle like unto the wielder of the thunderbolt defeating the _Asuras_, return thou again to the city having achieved great renown. Son of Matsya's king, thou art the sole refuge of this kingdom, as that foremost of virtuous warriors, Arjuna is of the sons of Pandu. Even like Arjuna of his brothers, thou art, without doubt, the refuge of those dwelling within these dominions. Indeed, we, the subject of this realm, have our protector in thee.'" [34] To understand the comparison would require in the reader a knowledge of the mechanism of the Indian Vina. Briefly, the Vina consists of a bamboo of about two cubits attached to two gourds towards its ends. Along the bamboo which serves the purpose of a finger-board, is the main chord and several thinner wires. All these pass over a number of frets, two and a half heptachords, representing the total compass of the instrument. The wires rest towards their ends on two pieces of ivory called Upadhanas in Sanskrit or Swaris in Urdu. Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by the cowherd in the presence of the females, in words breathing courage, the prince indulging in self-commendation within the female apartments, spoke these words." SECTION XXXVI "Uttara said, 'Firm as I am in the use of the bow, I would set out this very day in the track of the kine if only some one skilled in the management of horses becomes my charioteer. I do not, however, know the man who may be my charioteer. Look ye, therefore, without delay, for a charioteer for me that am prepared for starting. My own charioteer was slain in the great battle that was fought from day to day for a whole month or at least for eight and twenty nights. As soon as I get another person conversant with the management of the steeds, I will immediately set out, hoisting high my own standard. Penetrating into the midst of the hostile army abounding with elephants and horses and chariots, I will bring back the kine, having vanquished the Kurus who are feeble in strength and weak in weapons. Like a second wielder of the thunderbolt terrifying the Danavas, I will bring back the kine this very moment, affrighting in battle Duryodhana and Bhishma and Karna and Kripa and Drona with his son, and other mighty bowmen assembled for fight. Finding none (to oppose), the Kurus are taking away the kine. What can I do when I am not there? The assembled Kurus shall witness my prowess today. And they shall say unto one another, "Is it Arjuna himself who is opposing us?'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having heard these words spoken by the prince, Arjuna fully acquainted with the import of everything, after a little while cheerfully spake in private unto his dear wife of faultless beauty, Krishna, the princess of Panchala, Drupada's daughter of slender make, sprung from the (sacrificial) fire and endued with the virtues of truthfulness and honesty and ever attentive to the good of her husbands. And the hero said, 'Do thou, O beauteous one, at my request say unto Uttara without delay, "This Vrihannala was formerly the accomplished resolute charioteer of Pandu's son (Arjuna). Tried in many a great battle, even he will be thy charioteer."'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words uttered by the prince over and over again in the midst of the women, Panchali could not quietly bear those allusions to Vibhatsu. And bashfully stepping out from among the women, the poor princess of Panchala gently spake unto him these words, 'The handsome youth, looking like a mighty elephant and known by the name of Vrihannala, was formerly the charioteer of Arjuna. A disciple of that illustrious warrior, and inferior to none in use of the bow, he was known to me while I was living with the Pandavas. It was by him that the reins were held of Arjuna's excellent steeds when Agni consumed the forest of Khandava. It was with him as charioteer that Partha conquered all creatures at Khandava-prastha. In fact, there is no charioteer equal unto him.' "Uttara said, 'Thou knowest, O _Sairindhri_, this youth. Thou knowest, what this one of the neuter sex may or may not be. I cannot, however, O blessed one, myself request Vrihannala to hold the reins of my horses.' "Draupadi said, 'Vrihannala, O hero, will without doubt, obey the words of thy younger sister[35]--that damsel of graceful hips. If he consents to be thy charioteer, thou wilt, without doubt, return, having vanquished the Kurus and rescued thy kine.' [35] Some read _kaniasi_ for _vaviasi_. Both words are the same, and mean the same thing. "Thus addressed by the _Sairindhri_, Uttara spake unto his sister, 'Go thyself, O thou of faultless beauty, and bring Vrihannala hither.' And despatched by her brother, she hastily repaired to the dancing-hall where that strong-armed son of Pandu was staying in disguise." SECTION XXXVII Vaisampayana said, "Thus despatched by her elder brother, the far-famed daughter of king Matsya, adorned with a golden necklace, ever obedient to her brother and possessed of a waist slender as that of the wasp,[36] endued with the splendour of Lakshmi herself,[37] decked with the plumes of the peacock of slender make and graceful limbs, her hips encircled by a zone of pearls, her eye-lashes slightly curved, and her form endued with every grace, hastily repaired to the dancing-hall like a flash of lightning rushing towards a mass of dark clouds.[38] And the faultless and auspicious daughter of Virata, of fine teeth and slender-waist, of thighs close unto each other and each like the trunk of an elephant, her person embellished with an excellent garland, sought the son of Pritha like a she-elephant seeking her mate. And like unto a precious gem or the very embodiment of prosperity of Indra, of exceeding beauty and large eyes, that charming and adored and celebrated damsel saluted Arjuna. And saluted by her, Partha asked that maiden of close thighs and golden complexion, saying 'What brings thee hither, a damsel decked in a necklace of gold? Why art thou in such a hurry, O gazelle-eyed maiden? Why is thy face, O beauteous lady, so cheerless? Tell me all this without delay!'" [36] _Vedi-Vilagnamadhya_--Vedi in this connection means a wasp and not, as explained by Mallinatha in his commentary of the _Kumarasambhava_, a sacrificial platform. I would remark in passing that many of the most poetic and striking adjectives in both the Raghu and the _Kumarasambhava_ of Kalidasa are borrowed unblushingly from the _Ramayana_ and the _Mahabharata_. [37] _Padma patrabha-nibha_ may also mean 'of the splendour of the gem called Marakata.' Nilakantha, however, shows that this would militate against the adjective _Kankojwalatwacham_ below. [38] The princess being of the complexion of burnished gold and Arjuna dark as a mass of clouds, the comparison is exceedingly appropriate. The Vaishnava poets of Bengal never tire of this simile in speaking of Radha and Krishna in the groves of Vrindavana. Vaisampayana continued, "Beholding, O king, his friend, the princess of large-eyes (in that plight), her friend (Arjuna) cheerfully enquired of her (in these words) the cause of her arrival there and then. And having approached that bull among men, the princess, standing in the midst of her female attendants, the displaying proper modesty[39], addressed him, saying, 'The kine of this realm, O Vrihannala, are being driven away by the Kurus, and it is to conquer them that my brother will set out bow in hand. Not long ago his own charioteer was slain in battle, and there is none equal unto the one slain that can act as my brother's charioteer. And unto him striving to obtain a charioteer, _Sairindhri_, O Vrihannala, hath spoken about thy skill in the management of steeds. Thou wert formerly the favourite charioteer of Arjuna, and it was with thee that that bull among the sons of Pandu had alone subjugated the whole earth. Do thou, therefore, O Vrihannala, act as the charioteer of my brother. (By this time) our kine have surely been driven away by the Kurus to a great distance. Requested by me if thou dost not act up to my words, I who am asking this service of thee out of affection, will give up my life!' Thus addressed by this friend of graceful hips, that oppressor of foes, endued with immeasurable prowess, went into the prince's presence. And like unto a she-elephant running after her young one, the princess possessed of large eyes followed that hero advancing with hasty steps like unto an elephant with rent temples. And beholding him from a distance, the prince himself said, 'With thee as his charioteer, Dhananjaya the son of Kunti had gratified _Agni_ at the Khandava forest and subjugated the whole world! The _Sairindhri_ hath spoken of thee to me. She knoweth the Pandavas. Do thou, therefore, O Vrihannala, hold, as thou didst, the reins of my steeds, desirous as I am of righting with the Kurus and rescuing my bovine wealth. Thou wert formerly the beloved charioteer of Arjuna and it was with thee that that bull among the sons of Pandu had alone subjugated the whole earth!' Thus addressed, Vrihannala replied unto the prince, saying, 'What ability have I to act as a charioteer in the field of battle? If it is song or dance or musical instruments or such other things, I can entertain thee therewith, but where is my skill for becoming a charioteer?' [39] The words in the original is _pranayam_, lit., love. Nilakantha, however, explains it as meaning modesty, humility. I think, Nilakantha is right. The relations between Arjuna and the princess were like those between father and daughter. "Uttara said, 'O Vrihannala, be thou a singer or a dancer, hold thou (for the present), without loss of time, the reins of my excellent steeds, mounting upon my car!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Although that oppressor of foes, the son of Pandu, was acquainted with everything, yet in the presence of Uttara, he began to make many mistakes for the sake of fun. And when he sought to put the coat of mail on his body by raising it upwards, the large-eyed maidens, beholding it, burst out into a loud laughter. And seeing him quite ignorant of putting on armour, Uttara himself equipped Vrihannala with a costly coat of mail. And casing his own person in an excellent armour of solar effulgence, and hoisting his standard bearing the figure of a lion, the prince caused Vrihannala to become his charioteer. And with Vrihannala to hold his reins, the hero set out, taking with him many costly bows and a large number of beautiful arrows. And his friend, Uttara and her maidens then said unto Vrihannala, 'Do thou, O Vrihannala, bring for our dolls (when thou comest back) various kinds of good and fine cloths after vanquishing the Kurus assembled for battle of whom Bhishma and Drona are foremost!' Thus addressed, Partha the son of Pandu, in a voice deep as the roar of the clouds, smilingly said unto that bevy of fair maidens. 'If thus Uttara can vanquish those mighty warriors in battle, I will certainly bring excellent and beautiful cloths.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said these words, the heroic Arjuna urged the steeds towards the Kuru army over which floated innumerable flags. Just, however, as they were starting, elderly dames and maidens, and Brahmanas of rigid vows, beholding Uttara seated on his excellent car with Vrihannala as charioteer and under that great banner hoisted on high, walked round the car to bless the hero. And the women said, 'Let the victory that Arjuna treading like a bull had achieved of old on the occasion of burning the forest of Khandava, be thine, O Vrihannala, when thou encounterest the Kurus today with prince Uttara.'" SECTION XXXVIII Vaisampayana said, "Having issued forth from the city, the dauntless son of Virata addressed his charioteer, saying, 'Proceed whither the Kurus are. Defeating the assembled Kurus who have come hither from desire of victory, and quickly rescuing my kine from them, I will return to the capital.' At these words of the prince, the son of Pandu urged those excellent steeds. And endued with the speed of the wind and decked with necklaces of gold, those steeds, urged by that lion among men, seemed to fly through the air. And they had not proceeded far when those smiters of foes, Dhananjaya and the son of Matsya, sighted the army of the powerful Kurus. And proceeding towards the cemetery, they came upon the Kurus and beheld their army arrayed in order of battle.[40] And that large army of theirs looked like the vast sea or a forest of innumerable trees moving through the sky. And then was seen, O best among the Kurus, the dust raised by that moving army which reached the sky and obstructed the sight of all creatures. And beholding that mighty host abounding in elephants, horses and chariots, and protected by Karna and Duryodhana and Kripa and Santanu's son, and that intelligent and great bowman Drona, with his son (Aswatthaman), the son of Virata, agitated with fear and the bristles on his body standing on their ends, thus spake unto Partha, 'I dare not fight with the Kurus. See, the bristles on my body have stood on their ends. I am incapable of battling with this countless host of the Kurus, abounding in the heroic warriors, that are extremely fierce and difficult of being vanquished even by the celestials. I do not venture to penetrate into the army of the Bharatas consisting of terrible bowmen and abounding in horses and elephants and cars and footsoldiers and banners. My mind is too much perturbed by the very sight of the foe on the field of battle on which stand Drona and Bhishma, and Kripa, and Karna, and Vivingsati, and Aswatthaman and Vikarna, and Saumadatti, and Vahlika, and the heroic king Duryodhana also--that foremost of car-warriors, and many other splendid bowmen, all skilled in battle. My hairs have stood on their ends, and I am fainting with fear at the very sight of these smiters, the Kurus arrayed in order of battle.'" [40] This sloka is not correctly printed in any of the texts that I have seen. The Burdwan Pandits read _tat-samim_. This I think, is correct, but then _asasada_ in the singular when the other verbs are all dual seems to be correct. The poet must have used some other verb in the dual for _asasada_. Vaisampayana continued, "And the low-minded and foolish Uttara out of folly alone, began to bewail (his fate) in the presence of the high-spirited (Arjuna) disguised (as his charioteer) in these words, 'My father hath gone out to meet the Trigartas taking with him his whole army, leaving me in the empty city. There are no troops to assist me. Alone and a mere boy who has not undergone much exercise in arms, I am unable to encounter these innumerable warriors and all skilled in weapons. Do thou, therefore, O Vrihannala, cease to advance!' "Vrihannala said, 'Why dost thou look so pale through fear and enhance the joy of thy foes? As yet thou hast done nothing on the field of battle with the enemy. It was thou that hadst ordered me, saying, _Take me towards the Kauravas_. I will, therefore, take thee, thither where those innumerable flags are. I will certainly take thee, O mighty-armed one, into the midst of the hostile Kurus, prepared to fight as they are for the kine like hawks for meat. I would do this, even if I regarded them to have come hither for battling for a much higher stake such as the sovereignty of the earth. Having, at the time of setting out, talked before both men and women so highly of thy manliness, why wouldst thou desist from the fight? If thou shouldst return home without recapturing the kine, brave men and even women, when they meet together, will laugh at thee (in derision). As regards myself, I cannot return to the city without having rescued the kine, applauded as I have been so highly by the _Sairindhri_ in respect of my skill in driving cars. It is for those praises by the _Sairindhri_ and for those words of thine also (that I have come). Why should I not, therefore, give battle to the Kurus? (As regards thyself), be thou still.' "Uttara said, 'Let the Kurus rob the Matsyas of all their wealth. Let men and women, O Vrihannala, laugh at me. Let my kine perish, let the city be a desert. Let me stand exposed before my father. Still there is no need of battle.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Saying this, that much affrighted prince decked in ear-ring jumped down from his car, and throwing down his bow and arrows began to flee, sacrificing honour and pride. Vrihannala, however, exclaimed, 'This is not the practice of the brave, this flight of a Kshatriya from the field of battle. Even death in battle is better than flight from fear.' Having said this, Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, coming down from that excellent car ran after that prince thus running away, his own long braid and pure red garments fluttering in the air. And some soldiers, not knowing that it was Arjuna who was thus running with his braid fluttering in the air, burst out into laughter at the sight. And beholding him thus running, the Kurus began to argue, 'Who is this person, thus disguised like fire concealed in ashes? He is partly a man and partly a woman. Although bearing a neuter form, he yet resembleth Arjuna. His are the same head and neck, and his the same arms like unto a couple of maces. And this one's gait also is like unto his. He can be none else than Dhananjaya. As _Indra_ is among the celestials, so Dhananjaya is among men. Who else in this world than Dhananjaya, would alone come against us? Virata left a single son of his in the empty city. He hath come out from childishness and not from true heroism. It is Uttara who must have come out of the city, having, without doubt, made as a charioteer Arjuna, the son of Pritha, now living in disguise. It seems that he is now flying away in panic at sight of our army. And without doubt Dhananjaya runneth after him to bring him back.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Beholding the disguised son of Pandu, the Kauravas, O Bharata, began to indulge in these surmises, but they could not come to any definite conclusion. Meanwhile, Dhananjaya, hastily pursuing the retreating Uttara, seized him by the hair within a hundred steps. And seized by Arjuna, the son of Virata began to lament most woefully like one in great affliction, and said, 'Listen, O good Vrihannala, O thou of handsome waist. Turn thou quickly the course of the car. He that liveth meeteth with prosperity. I will give thee a hundred coins of pure gold and eight _lapis lazuli_ of great brightness set with gold, and one chariot furnished with a golden flag-staff and drawn by excellent steeds, and also ten elephants of infuriate prowess. Do thou, O Vrihannala, set me free.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, that tiger among men laughingly dragged Uttara who was almost deprived of his senses and who was uttering these words of lamentation towards the car. And the son of Pritha then addressed the affrighted prince who had nearly lost his senses, saying, 'If, O chastiser of foes, thou dost not venture to fight with enemy, come thou and hold the reins of the steeds as I fight with the foe. Protected by the might of my arms, penetrate thou yon formidable and invincible array of cars guarded by heroic and mighty warriors. Fear not, O chastiser of foes, thou art a _Kshatriya_ and the foremost of royal princes. Why dost thou, O tiger among men, succumb in the midst of the foe? I shall surely fight with the Kurus and recover the kine, penetrating into this formidable and inaccessible array of cars. Be thou my charioteer, O best of men, I will fight with the Kurus.' Thus speaking unto Uttara, the son of Virata, Vibhatsu, heretofore unconquered in battle, for a while comforted him. And then the son of Pritha, that foremost of smiters, raised on the car that fainting and reluctant prince stricken with fear!" SECTION XXXIX Vaisampayana said, "Beholding that bull among men seated on the car in the habit of a person of the third sex, driving toward the _Sami_ tree, having taken (the flying) Uttara up, all the great car-warriors of the Kurus with Bhishma and Drona at their head, became affrighted at heart, suspecting the comer to be Dhananjaya. And seeing them so dispirited and marking also the many wonderful portents, that foremost of all wielders of arms, the preceptor Drona, son of Bharadwaja, said, 'Violent and hot are the winds that below, showering gravels in profusion. The sky also is overcast with a gloom of ashy hue. The clouds present the strange sight of being dry and waterless. Our weapons also of various kinds are coming out of their cases. The jackals are yelling hideously affrighted at the conflagrations on all sides.[41] The horses too are shedding tears, and our banners are trembling though moved by none. Such being the inauspicious indications seen, a great danger is at hand. Stay ye with vigilance. Protect ye your own selves and array the troops in order of battle. Stand ye, expecting a terrible slaughter, and guard ye well the kine. This mighty bowman, this foremost of all wielders of weapons, this hero that hath come in the habit of a person of the third sex, is the son of Pritha. There is no doubt of this.' Then addressing Bhishma, the preceptor continued, 'O offspring of the Ganges, apparelled as a woman, this is _Kiriti_ called after a tree, the son of the enemy of the mountains, and having on his banner the sign of devastator of the gardens of Lanka's lord. Vanquishing us he will surely take away the kine today![42] This chastiser of foes is the valiant son of Pritha surnamed _Savyasachin_. He doth not desist from conflict even with the gods and demons combined. Put to great hardship in the forest he cometh in wrath. Taught by even Indra himself, he is like unto Indra in battle. Therefore, ye Kauravas, I do not see any hero who can withstand him. It is said that the lord _Mahadeva_ himself, disguised in the attire of a hunter, was gratified by this son of Pritha in battle on the mountains of Himavat.' Hearing these words, Karna said, 'You always censure us by speaking on the virtues of _Phalguna_. Arjuna, however, is not equal to even a full sixteenth part of myself or Duryodhana!' And Duryodhana said, 'If this be Partha, O Radheya, then my purpose hath already been fulfilled, for then, O king, if traced out, the Pandavas shall have to wander for twelve years again. Or, if this one be any other person in a eunuch's garb, I will soon prostrate him on the earth with keen-edged arrows.'" [41] Some texts read _Diptasya_ for _Diptayam_. [42] This sloka does not occur in every text. This is a typical illustration of the round about way, frequently adopted by Sanskrit writers, of expressing a simple truth. The excuse in the present instance consists in Drona's unwillingness to identify the solitary hero with Arjuna, in the midst of all his hearers. Nadiji is an exclamation referring to Bhishma, the son of the river Ganga. _Lankesa-vanari-ketu_ is simply 'ape-bannered,' or as rendered in the text, having the devastator of the gardens of Lanka's lord for the sign of his banner. Nagahvaya is 'named after tree' for Arjuna is the name of an Indian tree. Nagri-sunu is 'Indra's son',--Indra being the foe of mountain, for formerly it was he who cut off the wings of all mountains and compelled them to be stationary. He failed only in the case of Mainaka, the son of Himavat. Vaisampayana continued, "The son of Dhritarashtra, O chastiser of foes, having said this, Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and Drona's son all applauded his manliness!" SECTION XL Vaisampayana said, "Having reached that _Sami_ tree, and having ascertained Virata's son to be exceedingly delicate and inexperienced in battle, Partha addressed him, saying, 'Enjoined by me, O Uttara, quickly take down (from this tree) some bows that are there. For these bows of thine are unable to bear my strength, my heavy weight when I shall grind down horses and elephants, and the stretch of my arms when I seek to vanquish the foe. Therefore, O Bhuminjaya, climb thou up this tree of thick foliage, for in this tree are tied the bows and arrows and banners and excellent coats of mail of the heroic sons of Pandu, viz., Yudhishthira and Bhima and Vibhatsu and the twins. There also is that bow of great energy, the _Gandiva_ of Arjuna, which singly is equal to many thousands of other bows and which is capable of extending the limits of a kingdom. Large like a palmyra tree, able to bear the greatest stress, the largest of all weapons, capable of obstructing the foe, handsome, and smooth, and broad, without a knot, and adorned with gold, it is stiff and beautiful in make and beareth the heaviest weight. And the other bows also that are there, of Yudhishthira and Bhima and Vibhatsu and the twins, are equally mighty and tough.'" SECTION XLI "Uttara said, 'It hath been heard by us that a corpse is tied in this tree. How can I, therefore, being a prince by birth, touch it with my hands? Born in the _Kshatriya_ order, and the son of a great king, and always observant of _mantras_ and vows, it is not becoming of me to touch it. Why shouldst thou, O Vrihannala, make me a polluted and unclean bearer of corpses, by compelling me to come in contact with a corpse?' "Vrihannala said, 'Thou shalt, O king of kings, remain clean and unpolluted. Do not fear, there are only bows in this tree and not corpses. Heir to the king of the Matsyas, and born in a noble family, why should I, O prince, make thee do such a reproachable deed?'" Vaisampayana said, "Thus addressed by Partha, Virata's son, decked in ear-rings, alighted from the car, and climbed up that _Sami_ tree reluctantly. And staying on the car, Dhananjaya, that slayer of enemies, said unto him, 'Speedily bring thou down those bows from the top of the tree.' And cutting off their wrappings first and then the ropes with which they were tied, the prince beheld the _Gandiva_ there along with four other bows. And as they were untied, the splendour of those bows radiant as the sun, began to shine with great effulgence like unto that of the planets about the time of their rising. And beholding the forms of those bows, so like unto sighing snakes, he become afflicted with fear and in a moment the bristles of his body stood on their ends. And touching those large bows of great splendour, Virata's son, O king, thus spake unto Arjuna!" SECTION XLII "Uttara said, 'To what warrior of fame doth this excellent bow belong, on which are a hundred golden bosses and which hath such radiant ends? Whose is this excellent bow of good sides and easy hold, on the staff of which shine golden elephants of such brightness? Whose is this excellent bow, adorned with three scores of _Indragopakas_[43] of pure gold, placed on the back of the staff at proper intervals? Whose is this excellent bow, furnished with three golden suns of great effulgence, blazing forth with such brilliancy? Whose is this beautiful bow which is variegated with gold and gems, and on which are golden insects set with beautiful stones? Whose are these arrows furnished with wing around, numbering a thousand, having golden heads, and cased in golden quivers? Who owneth these large shafts, so thick, furnished with vulturine wings whetted on stone, yellowish in hue, sharp-pointed, well-tempered, and entirely made of iron? Whose is this sable quiver,[44] bearing five images of tigers, which holdeth shafts intermined with boar-eared arrows altogether numbering ten? Whose are these seven hundred arrows, long and thick, capable of drinking (the enemy's) blood, and looking like the crescent-shaped moon?[45] Whose are these gold-crested arrows whetted on stones, the lower halves of which are well-furnished with wings of the hue of parrots' feather and the upper halves, of well-tempered steels?[46] Whose is this excellent sword irresistible, and terrible to adversaries, with the mark of a toad on it, and pointed like a toad's head?[47] Cased in variegated sheath of tiger-skin, whose is this large sword of excellent blade and variegated with gold and furnished with tinkling bells? Whose is this handsome scimitar of polished blade and golden hilt? Manufactured in the country of the _Nishadas_, irresistible, incapable of being broken, whose is this sword of polished blade in a scabbard of cow-skin? Whose is this beautiful and long sword, sable in hue as the sky, mounted with gold, well-tempered, and cased in a sheath of goat-skin? Who owneth this heavy, well-tempered, and broad sword, just longer than the breadth of thirty fingers, polished by constant clash with other's weapons and kept in a case of gold, bright as fire? Whose is this beautiful scimitar of sable blade covered with golden bosses, capable of cutting through the bodies of adversaries, whose touch is as fatal as that of a venomous snake which is irresistible and exciteth the terror of foes? Asked by me, O Vrihannala, do thou answer me truly. Great is my wonder at the sight of all these excellent objects.'" [43] Indian insects of a particular kind. [44] Most editions read _chapas_ which is evidently wrong. The correct reading is _avapas_, meaning quiver. The Burdwan Pandits give this latter reading. [45] Some read _chandrargha-darsanas_. The correct reading is _chandrardha-darsanas_. [46] Most editions read _hema-punkha_ and _silasita_ in the instrumental plural; the correct reading is their nominative plural forms. [47] _Sayaka_ means here, as explained by Nilakantha, a sword, and not a shaft. SECTION XLIII "Vrihannala said, 'That about which thou hath first enquired is Arjuna's bow, of world-wide fame, called _Gandiva_, capable of devastating hostile hosts. Embellished with gold, this _Gandiva_, the highest and largest of all weapons belonged to Arjuna. Alone equal unto a hundred thousand weapons, and always capable of extending the confines of kingdoms, it is with this that Partha vanquisheth in battle both men and celestials. Worshipped ever by the gods, the _Danavas_ and the _Gandharvas_ and variegated with excellent colours, this large and smooth bow is without a knot or stain anywhere. Shiva held it first for a thousand years. Afterwards Prajapati held it for five hundred and three years. After that Sakra, for five and eighty years. And then Soma held it for five hundred years. And after that _Varuna_ held it for a hundred years. And finally Partha, surnamed _Swetavahana,_[48] hath held it for five and sixty years.[49] Endued with great energy and of high celestial origin, this is the best of all bows. Adored among gods and men, it hath a handsome form. Partha obtained this beautiful bow from Varuna. This other bow of handsome sides and golden handle is Bhima's with which that son of Pritha, that chastiser of foes, had conquered the whole of the eastern regions. This other excellent bow of beautiful shape, adorned with images of _Indragopakas_, belongeth, O Virata's son, to king Yudhishthira. This other weapon with golden suns of blazing splendour shedding a dazzling effulgence around, belongeth to Nakula. And this bow adorned with golden images of insects and set also with gems and stones, belongeth to that son of Madri who is called Sahadeva. These winged arrows, thousand in number, sharp as razors and destructive as the poison of snakes, belong, O Virata's son, to Arjuna. When shooting them in battle against foes, these swift arrows blaze forth more brilliantly and become inexhaustible. And these long and thick shafts resembling the lunar crescent in shape, keen-edged and capable of thinning the enemy's ranks, belong to Bhima. And this quiver bearing five images of tigers, full of yellowish shafts whetted on stone and furnished with golden wings belong to Nakula. This is the quiver of the intelligent son of Madri, with which he had conquered in battle the whole of the western regions. And these arrows, all effulgent as the sun, painted all over with various colours, and capable of destroying enemies by thousands are those of Sahadeva. And these short and well-tempered and thick shafts, furnished with long feathers and golden heads, and consisting of three knots, belong to king Yudhishthira. And this sword with blade long and carved with the image of a toad and head shaped as a toad's mouth, strong and irresistible belongeth to Arjuna. Cased in a sheath of tiger-skin, of long blade, handsome and irresistible, and terrible to adversaries, this sword belongeth to Bhimasena. Of excellent blade and cased in a well-painted sheath, and furnished with a golden hilt, this handsome sword belongeth to the wise Kaurava--Yudhishthira the just. And this sword of strong blade, irresistible and intended for various excellent modes of fight and cased in a sheath of goat-skin, belongeth to Nakula. And this huge scimitar, cased in a sheath of cow-skin, strong and irresistible belongeth to Sahadeva.'" [48] From the colour of his steeds. [49] Nilakantha spends much learning and ingenuity in making out that sixty-five years in this connection means thirty-two years of ordinary human computation. SECTION XLIV "Uttara said, 'Indeed, these weapons adorned with gold, belonging to the light-handed and high-souled Partha, look exceedingly beautiful. But where are that Arjuna, the son of Pritha, and Yudhishthira of the Kuru race, and Nakula, and Sahadeva, and Bhimasena, the sons of Pandu? Having lost their kingdom at dice, the high-souled Pandavas, capable of destroying all foes, are no longer heard of. Where also is Draupadi, the princess of _Panchala_, famed as the gem among women, who followed the sons of Pandu after their defeat at dice to the forest?' "Arjuna said, 'I am Arjuna, called also Partha. Thy father's courtier is Yudhishthira and thy father's cook Vallava is Bhimasena, the groom of horses is Nakula, and Sahadeva is in the cow-pen. And know thou that the _Sairindhri_ is Draupadi, for whose sake the Kichakas have been slain.' "Uttara said, 'I would believe all this if thou canst enumerate the ten names of Partha, previously heard by me!' "Arjuna said, 'I will, O son of Virata, tell thee my ten names. Listen thou and compare them with what thou hadst heard before. Listen to them with close attention and concentrated mind. They are _Arjuna, Phalguna, Jishnu, Kiritin, Swetavahana, Vibhatsu, Vijaya, Krishna, Savyasachin_ and _Dhananjaya_.' "Uttara said, 'Tell me truly why art thou called Vijaya, and why Swetavahana. Why art thou named Krishna and why Arjuna and Phalguna and Jishnu and Kiritin and Vibhatsu, and for what art thou Dhananjaya and Savyasachin? I have heard before about the origin of the several names of that hero, and can put faith in thy words if thou canst tell me all about them.' "Arjuna said, 'They called me Dhananjaya because I lived in the midst of wealth, having subjugated all the countries and taking away their treasures. They called me Vijaya because when I go out to battle with invincible kings, I never return (from the field) without vanquishing them. I am called Swetavahana because when battling with the foe, white horses decked in golden armour are always yoked unto my car. They call me Phalguna because I was born on the breast of the Himavat on a day when the constellation _Uttara Phalguna_ was on the ascendent. I am named Kiritin from a diadem, resplendent like the sun, having been placed of old on my head by Indra during my encounter with the powerful _Danavas_. I am known as Vibhatsu among gods and men, for my never having committed a detestable deed on the battle-field. And since both of my hands are capable of drawing the _Gandiva_, I am known as Savyasachin among gods and men. They call me Arjuna because my complexion is very rare within the four boundaries of the earth and because also my acts are always stainless. I am known among human beings and celestials by the name of Jishnu, because I am unapproachable and incapable of being kept down, and a tamer of adversaries and son of the slayer of Paka. And Krishna, my tenth appellation, was given to me by my father out of affection towards his black-skinned boy of great purity.'" Vaisampayana continued, "The son of Virata then, approaching nearer saluted Partha and said, 'My name is Bhuminjaya, and I am also called Uttara. It is by good luck, O Partha, that I behold thee. Thou art welcome, O Dhananjaya. O thou with red eyes, and arms that are mighty and each like unto the trunk of an elephant, it behoveth thee to pardon what I said unto thee from ignorance. And as wonderful and difficult have been the feats achieved by thee before, my fears have been dispelled, and indeed the love I bear to thee is great.'" SECTION XLV "Uttara said, 'O hero, mounting on this large car with myself as driver, which division of the (hostile) army wouldst thou penetrate? Commanded by thee, I would drive thee thither.' "Arjuna said, 'I am pleased with thee, O tiger among men. Thou hast no cause of fear. I will rout all thy foes in battle, O great warrior, And, O thou of mighty arms, be at thy ease. Accomplishing great and terrible feats in the melee, I will fight with thy foes. Tie quickly all those quivers to my car, and take (from among those) a sword of polished blade and adorned with gold.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Arjuna, Uttara cast off all inactivity. And he speedily alighted from the tree, bringing with him Arjuna's weapons. Then Arjuna addressed him, saying, 'Yes, I will fight with the Kurus and recover thy kine. Protected by me, the top of this car will be to thee as a citadel. The passages and alleys and other divisions of this car will be the streets and edifices of that fortified city. These my arms will be its ramparts and gateways. This treble pole and my quiver will constitute defensive works inaccessible to the foe. This my banner--single and grand--will it not alone be equal unto those of thy city? This my bow-string will constitute the catapults and cannons for vomiting forth missiles on the besieging host. My excited wrath will make that fortress formidable, and the clatter of my car-wheels--will it not resemble the kettle-drums of thy capital? Ridden by myself wielding the _Gandiva_, this car will be incapable of being vanquished by the hostile host, O son of Virata, let thy fear be dispelled.' "Uttara said, 'I am no longer afraid of these. I know thy steadiness in battle, which is even like unto that of Kesava or Indra himself. But reflecting on this, I am continually bewildered. Foolish as I am, I am incapable of arriving at certain conclusion. By what distressful circumstances could _a person of such handsome limbs and auspicious signs become deprived of manhood_! Indeed, thou seemest to me to be Mahadeva, or Indra, or the chief of the Gandharvas, dwelling in the guise only of one of the third sex.' "Arjuna said, 'I tell thee truly that I am only observing this vow for a whole year agreeable to the behest of my elder brother. O thou of mighty arms, I am not truly one of the neuter sex, but I have adopted this vow of eunuchism from subservience to another's will and from desire of religious merit. O prince, know me now to have completed my vow.' "Uttara said, 'Thou hast conferred a great favour on me today, for I now find that my suspicion was not altogether unfounded. Indeed, such a person as thou, O best of men, cannot be of the neuter sex. I have now an ally in battle. I can now fight with the celestials themselves. My fears have been dispelled. What shall I do? Command me now. Trained in driving cars by a learned preceptor I will, O bull among men, hold the reins of thy horses that are capable of breaking the ranks of hostile cars. Know me, O bull among men, to be as competent a charioteer as Daruka of Vasudeva, or Matali of Sakra. The horse that is yoked unto the right-hand pole (of thy car) and whose hoofs as they light on the ground are scarcely visible when running, is like unto _Sugriva_ of Krishna. This other handsome horse, the foremost of his race, that is yoked unto the left pole, is, I regard, equal in speed to _Meghapushpa_. This (third) beautiful horse, clad in golden mail, yoked unto the rear-pole on the left, is, I regard, _Sivya_ equal in speed to but superior in strength. And this (fourth) horse, yoked to the rear-pole on the right, is regarded as superior to _Valahaka_ in speed and strength. This car is worthy of bearing on the field of battle a bowman like thee, and thou also art worthy of fighting on this car. This is what I think!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then Arjuna, endued with great energy, took off the bracelets from his arms and wore on his hands a pair of beautiful gloves embroidered with gold. And he then tied his black and curling locks with a piece of white cloth. And seated on that excellent car with face turned to the east, the mighty-armed hero, purifying his body and concentrating his soul, recalled to his mind all his weapons. And all the weapons came, and addressing the royal son of Partha, said, 'We are here, O illustrious one. We are thy servants, O son of Indra.' And bowing unto them, Partha received them unto his hands and replied unto them, saying, 'Dwell ye all in my memory.' And obtaining all his weapons, the hero looked cheerful. And quickly stringing his bow, the _Gandiva_, he twanged it. And the twang of that bow was as loud as the collision of two mighty bulls. And dreadful was the sound that filled the earth, and violent was the wind that blew on all sides. And thick was the shower of fallen meteors[50] and all sides were enveloped in gloom. And the birds began to totter in the skies and large trees began to shake.[51] And loud as the burst of the thunder, the Kurus knew from that sound that it was Arjuna that drew with his hands the string of his best of bows from his car. And Uttara said, 'Thou, O best of Pandavas, art alone. These mighty car-warriors are many. How wilt thou vanquish in battle all these that are skilled in every kind of weapon? Thou, O son of Kunti, art without a follower, while the Kauravas have many. It is for this, O thou of mighty arms, that I stay beside thee, stricken with fear.' Bursting out into loud laughter, Partha said unto him, 'Be not afraid, O hero, what friendly follower had I while fighting with the mighty _Gandharvas_ on the occasion of the _Ghoshayatra_? Who was my ally while engaged in the terrific conflict at _Khandava_ against so many celestials and _Danavas_? Who was my ally when I fought, on behalf of the lord of the celestials against the mighty _Nivatakavachas_ and the _Paulomas_! And who was my ally, O child, while I encountered in battle innumerable kings at the _Swayamvara_ to the princess of Panchala? Trained in arms by the preceptor Drona, by Sakra, and Vaisravana, and Yama, and Varuna, and Agni, and Kripa, and Krishna of Madhu's race, and by the wielder of the _Pinaka_ (Siva), why shall I not fight with these? Drive thou my car speedily, and let thy heart's fever be dispelled.'" [50] Some texts read,--'One large meteor fell.' [51] In some editions read,--_Bharata dwijam_, and _Maha-hardam_ for _maha-drumam_. The meaning would then be,--'The banners (of the hostile army) began to tremble in the sky, and large lakes were agitated.' SECTION XLVI Vaisampayana said, "Making Uttara his charioteer, and circumambulating the _Sami_ tree, the son of Pandu set out taking all his weapons with him. And that mighty car-warrior set out with Uttara as the driver of his car, having taken down that banner with the lion's figure and deposited it at the foot of the _Sami_ tree. And he hoisted on that car his own golden banner bearing the figure of an ape with a lion's tail, which was a celestial illusion contrived by Viswakarman himself. For, as soon, indeed, as he had thought of that gift of Agni, than the latter, knowing his wish, ordered those superhuman creatures (that usually sat there) to take their place in that banner. And furnished with a beautiful flag of handsome make, with quivers attached to it, and adorned with gold, that excellent flag-staff of celestial beauty then quickly fell from the firmament on his car.[52] And beholding that banner arrived on his car, the hero circumambulated it (respectively). And then the ape-bannered Vibhatsu, the son of Kunti, called also Swetavahana, with fingers cased in leathern fences of the _Iguana_ skin, and taking up his bow and arrows set out in a northernly direction. And that grinder of foes, possessed of great strength, then forcibly blew his large conch-shell, of thundering sound, capable of making the bristles of foes to stand on their ends. And at the sound of that conch, those steeds endued with swiftness dropped down on the ground on their knees. And Uttara also, greatly affrighted, sat down on the car. And thereupon the son of Kunti took the reins himself and raising the steeds, placed them in their proper positions. And embracing Uttara, he encouraged him also, saying, 'Fear not, O foremost of princes, thou art, O chastiser of foes, a _Kshatriya_ by birth. Why, O tiger among men, dost thou become so dispirited in the midst of foes? Thou must have heard before the blare of many conchs and the note of many trumpets, and the roar also of many elephants in the midst of ranks arrayed for battled. Why art thou, therefore, so dispirited and agitated and terrified by the blare of this conch, as if thou wert an ordinary person?' [52] Some texts read _Maharatham_ (incorrectly) for _hiranmayan_. Indeed, _Maharatham_ would give no meaning in this connection. The incomplete edition of the Roy Press under the auspices of the Principal of the Calcutta Sanskrit College abounds with such incorrect readings and misprints. "Uttara said, 'Heard have I the blare of many a conch and many a trumpet and the roar of many an elephant stationed in the battle-array, but never have I heard before the blare of such conch. Nor have I ever seen a banner like this. Never before have I heard also the twang of a bow such as this. Truly, sir, with the blare of this conch, the twang of this bow, the superhuman cries of the creatures stationed on this banner, and the battle of this car, my mind is greatly bewildered. My perception of the directions also is confused, and my heart is painfully afflicted. The whole firmament seemeth to me to have been covered by this banner, and everything seemeth to be hidden from my view! My ears also have been deafened by the twang of the _Gandiva_!'[53] [53] The Roy Press edition adds here a line which looks very much like an interpolation. "Arjuna said, 'Firmly stand thou on the car, pressing thy feet on it, and tightly catch hold of the bridles, for I will blow the conch again.'" Vaisampayana said, "Arjuna then blew his conch again, that conch which filled foes with grief and enhanced the joy of friends. And the sound was so loud that it seemed to split hills and mountains, and pierce mountain-caves and the cardinal points. And Uttara once again sat down on the car, clinging to it in fear. And with the blare of the conch and the rattle of the car-wheels, and the twang of the Gandiva, the earth itself seemed to tremble. And beholding Uttara's fight, Dhananjaya began to comfort him again.' "Meanwhile, Drona said, 'From the rattle of the car, and from the manner in which the clouds have enveloped the sky and the earth itself trembles, this warrior can be none else than _Savyasachin_. Our weapons do not shine, our steeds are dispirited, and our fires, though fed with fuel, do not blare up. All this is ominous. All our animals are setting up a frightful howl, gazing towards the sun. The crows are perching on our banners. All this is ominous. Yon vultures and kites on our right portend a great danger. That jackal also, running through our ranks, waileth dismally. Lo, it hath escaped unstruck. All this portends a heavy calamity. The bristles also of ye all are on their ends. Surely, this forebodes a great destruction of Kshatriyas in battle. Things endued with light are all pale; beasts and birds look fierce; and there are to be witnessed many terrific portents indicative of the destruction of Kshatriyas. And these omens forebode great havoc among ourselves. O king, thy ranks seem to be confounded by these blazing meteors, and thy animals look dispirited and seem to be weeping. Vultures and kites are wheeling all around thy troops. Thou shalt have to repent upon beholding thy army afflicted by Partha's arrows. Indeed, our ranks seem to have been already vanquished, for none is eager to go to fight. All our warriors are of pale face, and almost deprived of their senses. Sending the kine ahead we should stand here, ready to strike, with all our warriors arrayed in order of battle.'" SECTION XLVII Vaisampayana said, "King Duryodhana then, on the field of battle said unto Bhishma, and unto Drona--that tiger among warriors, and unto Kripa--that mighty car-warrior, these words, 'Both myself and Karna had said this unto the preceptors.[54] I refer to the subject again, for I am not satisfied with having said it once. Even this was the pledge of the sons of Pandu that if defeated (at dice) they would reside to our knowledge in countries and woods for twelve years, and one more year unknown to us. That thirteenth year, instead of being over, is yet running. Vibhatsu, therefore, who is still to live undiscovered hath appeared before us. And if Vibhatsu hath come before the term of exile is at end, the Pandavas shall have to pass another twelve years in the woods. Whether it is due to forgetfulness (on their part) induced by desire of dominion, or whether it is a mistake of ours, it behoveth Bhishma to calculate the shortness or excess (of the promised period). When an object of desire may or may not be attained, a doubt necessarily attaches to one of the alternatives, and what is decided in one way often ends differently.[55] Even moralists are puzzled in judging of their own acts.[56] As regards ourselves, we have come hither to fight with the Matsyas and to seize their kine stationed towards the north. If, meanwhile, it is Arjuna that hath come, what fault can attach to us? We have come hither to fight against the Matsyas on behalf of the Trigartas; and as numerous were the acts represented unto us of the oppressions committed by the Matsyas, it was for this that we promised aid to the Trigartas who were overcome with fear. And it was agreed between us that they should first seize, on the afternoon of the seventh lunar day, the enormous wealth of kine that the Matsyas have, and that we should, at sunrise of the eighteen day of the moon, seize these kine when the king of the Matsyas would be pursuing those first seized. It may be that the Trigartas are now bringing away the kine, or being defeated, are coming towards us for negotiating with the king of the Matsyas. Or, it may be, that having driven the Trigartas off, the king of the Matsyas, at the head of this people and his whole army of fierce warriors, appeareth on the scene and advanceth to make night-attacks upon us. It may be that some one leader among them, endued with mighty energy, is advancing for vanquishing us, or, it may be that the king himself of the Matsyas is come. But be it the king of the Matsyas or Vibhatsu, we must all fight him. Even this hath been our pledge. Why are all these of foremost car-warriors,--Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and Vikarna and Drona's son,--now sitting on their cars, panic-stricken? At present there is nothing better than fighting. Therefore, make up your minds. If, for the cattle we have seized, an encounter takes place with the divine wielder himself of the thunderbolt or even with Yama, who is there that will be liable to reach Hastinapura? Pierced by the shafts (of the foe), how will the foot-soldiers, in flying through the deep forest with their backs on the field, escape with life, when escape for the cavalry is doubtful?' Hearing these words of Duryodhana, Karna said, 'Disregarding the preceptor, make all arrangements. He knoweth well the intentions of the Pandavas and striketh terror in our hearts. I see that his affection for Arjuna is very great. Seeing him only coming, he chanteth his praises. Make ye such arrangements that our troops may not break. Everything is in confusion for Drona's having only heard the neigh of (Arjuna's) steeds. Make ye such arrangements that these troops, come to a distant land in this hot season and in the midst of this mighty forest, may not fall into confusion and be subjugated by the foe. The Pandavas are always the special favourites of the preceptor. The selfish Pandavas have stationed Drona amongst us. Indeed, he betrayeth himself by his speech. Who would ever extol a person upon hearing the neigh only of his steeds? Horses always neigh, whether walking or standing, the winds blow at all times; and Indra also always showereth rain. The roar of the clouds may frequently be heard. What hath Partha to do with these, and why is he to be praised for these? All this (on Drona's part), therefore, is due only to either the desire of doing good to Arjuna or to his wrath and hatred towards us. Preceptors are wise, and sinless, and very kind to all creatures. They, however, should never be consulted at times of peril. It is in luxurious palaces, and assemblies and pleasure-gardens, that learned men, capable of making speeches, seem to be in their place. Performing many wonderful things, in the assembly, it is there that learned men find their place, or even there where sacrificial utensils and their proper placing and washing are needed. In a knowledge of the lapses of others, in studying the characters of men, in the science of horses and elephants and cars, in treating the diseases of asses and camels and goats and sheeps and kine, in planning buildings and gateways, and in pointing out the defects of food and drink, the learned are truly in their own sphere. Disregarding learned men that extol the heroism of the foe, make ye such arrangements that the foe may be destroyed. Placing the kine securely, array the troops in order of battle. Place guards in proper places so that we may fight the foe.'" [54] The true reading is _Acharya_ in the dual number, meaning Drona and Kripa. Some texts read the word in the singular form. Nilakantha notices both these reading, but prefers the dual to the singular. [55] The meaning is rather doubtful. Duryodhana seems to say that 'the hostile appearance of Arjuna has been an act of imprudence on his part. The Pandavas, after the expiry of the thirteenth year, would claim their kingdom. I, Duryodhana, may or may not accede to their demand. When, therefore, it was not certain that Arjuna would be refused by me, his hostile appearance is unwise. He has come sure of victory, but he may yet be defeated.' [56] The sense seems to be that when moralists even are puzzled in judging of the propriety or otherwise of their acts, it can easily be imagined that the Pandavas, however virtuous, have, in the matter of this their appearance, acted wrongly, for, after all, the thirteenth year may not have really been over as believed by them. Or, it may mean, that as regards our presence here, we have not acted imprudently when even moralists cannot always arrive at right conclusion. It seems that for this Duryodhana proceeds to justify that presence in the following sentences. SECTION XLVIII "Karna said, 'I behold all these blessed ones, looking as if alarmed and panic-struck and unresolved and unwilling to fight. If he that is come is the king of the Matsyas or Vibhatsu, even I will resist him as the banks resist the swelling sea. Shot from my bow these straight and flying arrows, like gliding snakes, are all sure of aim. Discharged by my light hands, these keen-edged arrows furnished with golden wings shall cover Partha all over, like locusts shrouding a tree. Strongly pressed by these winged arrows, the bow-string will cause these my leathern fences to produce sounds that will be heard to resemble those of a couple of kettle-drums. Having been engaged in ascetic austerities for the (last) eight and five years, Vibhatsu will strike me but mildly in this conflict, and the son of Kunti having become a Brahmana endued with good qualities, hath thus become a fit person to quietly receive shafts by thousands shot by me. This mighty bowman is indeed, celebrated over the three worlds. I, too, am, by no means, inferior to Arjuna, that foremost of human beings. With golden arrows furnished with vulturine wings shot on all sides, let the firmament seem today to swarm with fire-flies. Slaying Arjuna in battle, I will discharge today that debt, difficult of repayments, but promised of old by me unto Dhritarashtra's son. When man is there, even amongst all the gods and the _Asuras_, that will endure to stand in the teeth of the straight arrows shot from my bow? Let my flying arrows, winged and depressed at the middle, present the spectacle of the coursing of the fire-flies through the welkin. Hard though he be as Indra's thunderbolt and possessed of the energy of the chief of the celestials, I will surely grind Partha, even as one afflicts an elephant by means of burning brands. A heroic and mighty car-warrior as he is, and the foremost of all wielders of weapons I shall seize the unresisting Partha, even like Garuda seizing a snake. Irresistible like fire, and fed by the fuel of swords, darts, and arrows, the blazing Pandava-fire that consumeth foes, will be extinguished even by myself who am like unto a mighty cloud incessantly dropping an arrowy shower,--the multitude of cars (I will lead) constituting its thunder, and the speed of my horses, the wind in advance. Discharged from my bow, my arrows like venomous snakes will pierce Partha's body, like serpent penetrating through an ant-hill. Pierced with well-tempered and straight shafts endued with golden wings and great energy, behold ye today the son of Kunti decked like a hill covered with _Karnikara_ flowers. Having obtained weapons from that best of ascetics--the son of Jamadagni, I would, relying on their energy, fight with even the celestials. Struck with my javelin, the ape stationed on his banner-top shall fall down today on the ground, uttering terrible cries. The firmament will today be filled with the cries of the (super-human) creatures stationed in the flagstaff of the foe, and afflicted by me, they will fly away in all directions. I shall today pluck up by the roots the long-existing dart in Duryodhana's heart by throwing Arjuna down from his car. The Kauravas will today behold Partha with his car broken, his horses killed, his valour gone, and himself sighing like a snake. Let the Kauravas, following their own will go away taking this wealth of kine, or, if they wish, let them stay on their cars and witness my combat.'" SECTION XLIX "Kripa said, 'O Radheya, thy crooked heart always inclineth to war. Thou knowest not the true nature of things; nor dost thou take into account their after-consequences. There are various kinds of expedients inferrable from the scriptures. Of these, a battle hath been regarded by those acquainted with the past, as the most sinful. It is only when time and place are favourable that military operations can lead to success. In the present instance, however, the time being unfavourable, no good results will be deprived. A display of prowess in proper time and place becometh beneficial. It is by the favourableness or otherwise (of time and place) that the opportuneness of an act is determined. Learned men can never act according to the ideas of a car-maker. Considering all this, an encounter with Partha is not advisible for us. Alone he saved the Kurus (from the _Gandharvas_), and alone he satiated Agni. Alone he led the life of a _Brahmacharin_ for five years (on the breast of Himavat). Taking up Subhadra on his car, alone he challenged Krishna to single combat. Alone he fought with Rudra who stood before him as a forester. It was in this very forest that Partha rescued Krishna while she was being taken away (by Jayadratha). It is he alone that hath, for five years, studied the science of weapons under Indra. Alone vanquishing all foes he hath spread the fame of the Kurus. Alone that chastiser of foes vanquished in battle Chitrasena, the king of the _Gandharvas_ and in a moment his invincible troops also. Alone he overthrew in battle the fierce _Nivatakavachas_ and the _Kalakhanchas_, that were both incapable of being slain by the gods themselves. What, however, O Karna, hath been achieved by thee single-handed like any of the sons of Pandu, each of whom had alone subjugated many lords of earth? Even Indra himself is unfit to encounter Partha in battle. He, therefore, that desireth to fight with Arjuna should take a sedative. As to thyself, thou desirest to take out the fangs of an angry snake of virulent poison by stretching forth thy right hand and extending thy forefinger. Or, wandering alone in the forest thou desirest to ride an infuriate elephant and go to a boar without a hook in hand. Or, rubbed over with clarified butter and dressed in silken robes, thou desirest to pass through the midst of a blazing fire fed with fat and tallow and clarified butter. Who is there that would, binding his own hands and feet and tying a huge stone unto his neck, cross the ocean swimming with his bare arms? What manliness is there in such an act? O Karna, he is a fool that would, without skill in weapons and without strength, desire to fight with Partha who is so mighty and skilled in weapons. Dishonestly deceived by us and liberated from thirteen years' exile, will not the illustrious hero annihilate us? Having ignorantly come to a place where Partha lay concealed like fire hidden in a well, we have, indeed, exposed to a great danger. But irresistible though he be in battle, we should fight against him. Let, therefore, our troops, clad in mail, stand here arrayed in ranks and ready to strike. Let Drona and Duryodhana and Bhishma and thyself and Drona's son and ourselves, all fight with the son of Pritha. Do not, O Karna, act so rashly as to fight alone. If we six car-warriors be united, we can then be a match for and fight with that son of Pritha who is resolved to fight and who is as fierce as the wielder of the thunderbolt. Aided by our troops arrayed in ranks, ourselves--great bowmen--standing carefully will fight with Arjuna even as the _Danavas_ encounter Vasava in battle.'" SECTION L "Aswatthaman said, 'The kine, O Karna, have not yet been won, nor have they yet crossed the boundary (of their owner's dominions), nor have they yet reached Hastinapura. Why dost thou, therefore, boast of thyself? Having won numerous battles, and acquired enormous wealth, and vanquished hostile hosts, men of true heroism speak not a word of their prowess. Fire burneth mutely and mutely doth the sun shine. Mutely also doth the Earth bear creatures, both mobile and immobile. The Self-existent hath sanctioned such offices for the four orders that having recourse to them each may acquire wealth without being censurable. A Brahmana, having studied the _Vedas_, should perform sacrifices himself, and officiate at the sacrifices of others. And a Kshatriya, depending upon the bow, should perform sacrifices himself but should never officiate at the sacrifices of others. And a Vaisya, having earned wealth, should cause the rites enjoined in the _Vedas_ to be performed for himself. A Sudra should always wait upon and serve the other three orders. As regards those that live by practising the profession of flowers and vendors of meat, they may earn wealth by expedients fraught with deceit and fraud. Always acting according to the dictates of the scriptures, the exalted sons of Pandu acquired the sovereignty of the whole earth, and they always act respectfully towards their superiors, even if the latter prove hostile to them. What Kshatriya is there that expressed delight at having obtained a kingdom by means of dice, like this wicked and shameless son of Dhritarashtra? Having acquired wealth in this way by deceit and fraud like a vendor of meat, who that is wise boast of it? In what single combat didst thou vanquish Dhananjaya, or Nakula, or Sahadeva, although thou hast robbed them of their wealth? In what battle didst thou defeat Yudhishthira, or Bhima that foremost of strong men? In what battle was Indraprastha conquered by thee? What thou hast done, however, O thou of wicked deeds, is to drag that princess to court while she was ill and had but one raiment on? Thou hast cut the mighty root, delicate as the sandal, of the Pandava tree. Actuated by desire of wealth, when thou madest the Pandavas act as slaves, rememberest thou what Vidura said! We see that men and others, even insects and ants, show forgiveness according to their power of endurance. The son of Pandu, however, is incapable of forgiving the sufferings of Draupadi. Surely, Dhananjaya cometh here for the destruction of the sons of Dhritarashtra. It is true, affecting great wisdom, thou art for making speeches but will not Vibhatsu, that slayer of foes, exterminate us all! If it be gods, or _Gandharvas_ or _Asuras_, or _Rakshasas_, will Dhananjaya the son of Kunti, desist to fight from panic? Inflamed with wrath upon whomsoever he will fall, even him he will overthrow like a tree under the weight of Garuda! Superior to thee in prowess, in bowmanship equal unto the lord himself of the celestials, and in battle equal unto Vasudeva himself, who is there that would not praise Partha? Counteracting celestial weapons with celestial, and human weapons with human, what man is a match for Arjuna? Those acquainted with the scriptures declare that a disciple is no way inferior to a son, and it is for this that the son of Pandu is a favourite of Drona. Employ thou the means now which thou hadst adopted in the match at dice,--the same means, viz., by which thou hadst subjugated Indraprastha, and the same means by which thou hadst dragged Krishna to the assembly! This thy wise uncle, fully conversant with the duties of the _Kshatriya_ order--this deceitful gambler Sakuni, the prince of Gandhara, let _him_ fight now! The _Gandiva_, however, doth not cast dice such as the _Krita_ or the _Dwapara_, but it shooteth upon foes blazing and keen-edged shafts by myriads. The fierce arrows shot from the _Gandiva_, endued with great energy and furnished with vulturine wings, car, pierce even mountains. The destroyer of all, named Yama, and Vayu, and the horse-faced Agni, leave some remnant behind, but Dhananjaya inflamed with wrath never doth so. As thou hadst, aided by thy uncle, played at dice in the assembly so do fight in this battle protected by Suvala's son. Let the preceptor, if he chooses fight; I shall not, however, fight with Dhananjaya. We are to fight with the king of the Matsyas, if indeed, he cometh in the track of the kine.'" SECTION LI "Bhishma said, 'Drona's son observeth well, and Kripa too observeth rightly. As for Karna, it is only out of regard for the duties of the Kshatriya order that he desireth to fight. No man of wisdom can blame the preceptor. I, however, am of opinion that fight we must, considering both the time and the place. Why should not that man be bewildered who hath five adversaries effulgent as five suns, who are heroic combatants and who have just emerged from adversity? Even those conversant with morality are bewildered in respect of their own interests. It is for this, O king, that I tell thee this, whether my words be acceptable to you or not. What Karna said unto thee was only for raising our (drooping) courage. As regards thyself, O preceptor's son, forgive everything. The business at hand is very grave. When the son of Kunti hath come, this is not the time for quarrel. Everything should now be forgiven by thyself and the preceptor Kripa. Like light in the sun, the mastery of all weapons doth reside in you. As beauty is never separated from _Chandramas_, so are the _Vedas_ and the _Brahma_ weapon both established in you. It is often seen that the four _Vedas_ dwell in one object and _Kshatriya_ attributes in another. We have never heard of these two dwelling together in any other person than the preceptor of the Bharata race and his son. Even this is what I think. In the _Vedantas_, in the _Puranas_, and in old histories, who save Jamadagni, O king, would be Drona's superior? A combination of the _Brahma_ weapon with the _Vedas_,--this is never to be seen anywhere else. O preceptor's son, do thou forgive. This is not the time for disunion. Let all of us, uniting, fight with Indra's son who hath come. Of all the calamities that may befall an army that have been enumerated by men of wisdom, the worst is disunion among the leaders.' Aswatthaman said, 'O bull among men, these thy just observations, need not be uttered in our presence; the preceptor, however, filled with wrath, had spoken of Arjuna's virtues. The virtues of even an enemy should be admitted, while the faults of even one's preceptor may be pointed out; therefore one should, to the best of his power, declare the merits of a son or a disciple.' "Duryodhana said, 'Let the preceptor grant his forgiveness and let peace be restored. If the preceptor be at one with us, whatever should be done (in view of the present emergency) would seem to have been already done.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then, O Bharata, Duryodhana assisted by Karna and Kripa, and the high-souled Bhishma pacified Drona. "Drona said, 'Appeased I have already been at the words first spoken by Bhishma, the son of Santanu. Let such arrangements be made that Partha may not be able to approach Duryodhana in battle. And let such arrangements be made that king Duryodhana may not be captured by the foe, in consequence either of his rashness or want of judgment. Arjuna hath not, to be sure, revealed himself before the expiry of the term of exile. Nor will he pardon this act (of ours) today, having only recovered the kine. Let such arrangements, therefore, be made that he may not succeed in attacking Dhritarashtra's son and defeating our troops. Like myself (who am doubtful of the completion of period of exile) Duryodhana also had said so before. Bearing it in mind, it behoveth the son of Ganga to say what is true.'" SECTION LII "Bhishma said, 'The wheel of time revolves with its divisions, viz., with _Kalas_ and _Kasthas_ and _Muhurtas_ and days and fortnights and months and constellations and planets and seasons and years. In consequence of their fractional excesses and the deviations of also of the heavenly bodies, there is an increase of two months in every five years. It seems to me that calculating this wise, there would be an excess of five months and twelve nights in thirteen years. Everything, therefore, that the sons of Pandu had promised, hath been exactly fulfilled by them. Knowing this to be certain, Vibhatsu hath made his appearance. All of them are high-souled and fully conversant with the meanings of the scriptures. How would they deviate from virtue that have Yudhishthira for their guide? The sons of Kunti do not yield to temptation. They have achieved a difficult feat. If they had coveted the possession of their kingdom by unfair means, then those descendants of the Kuru race would have sought to display their prowess at the time of the match at dice. Bound in bonds of virtue, they did not deviate from the duties of the Kshatriya order. He that will regard them to have behaved falsely will surely meet with defeat. The sons of Pritha would prefer death to falsehood. When the time, however, comes, those bulls among men--the Pandavas--endued with energy like that of Sakra, would not give up what is theirs even if it is defended by the wielder himself of the thunderbolt. We shall have to oppose in battle the foremost of all wielders of weapons. Therefore, let such advantageous arrangements as have the sanction of the good and the honest be now made without loss of time so that our possessions may not be appropriated by the foe. O king of kings, O Kaurava, I have never seen a battle in which one of the parties could say,--_we are sure to win_. When a battle occurs, there must be victory or defeat, prosperity or adversity. Without doubt, a party to a battle must have either of the two. Therefore, O king of kings, whether a battle be now proper or not consistent with virtue or not, make thy arrangements soon, for Dhananjaya is at hand.' "Duryodhana said, 'I will not, O grandsire, give back the Pandavas their kingdom. Let every preparation, therefore, for battle be made without delay.' "Bhishma said, 'Listen to what I regard as proper, if it pleases thee. I should always say what is for thy good, O Kaurava. Proceed thou towards the capital, without loss of time, taking with thee a fourth part of the army. And let another fourth march, escorting the kine. With half the troops we will fight the Pandava. Myself and Drona, and Karna and Aswatthaman and Kripa will resolutely withstand Vibhatsu, or the king of the Matsyas, or Indra himself, if he approaches. Indeed, we will withstand any of these like the bank withstanding the surging sea.'" Vaisampayana continued, "These words spoken by the high-souled Bhishma were acceptable to them, and the king of the Kauravas acted accordingly without delay. And having sent away the king and then the kine, Bhishma began to array the soldiers in order of battle. And addressing the preceptor, he said, 'O preceptor, stand thou in the centre, and let Aswatthaman stand on the left, and let the wise Kripa, son of Saradwata, defend the right wing, and let Karna of the _Suta_ caste, clad in mail, stand in the van. I will stand in the rear of the whole army, protecting it from that point.'" SECTION LIII Vaisampayana said, "After the Kauravas, O Bharata, had taken their stand in this order, Arjuna, filling the air with the rattle and din of his car, advanced quickly towards them. And the Kurus beheld his banner-top and heard the rattle and din of his car as also the twang of the _Gandiva_ stretched repeatedly by him. And noting all this, and seeing that great car-warrior--the wielder of the _Gandiva_--come, Drona spoke thus, 'That is the banner-top of Partha which shineth at a distance, and this is the noise of his car, and that is the ape that roareth frightfully. Indeed, the ape striketh terror in the troops. And there stationed on that excellent car, the foremost of car-warriors draweth that best of bows, the _Gandiva_, whose twang is as loud as the thunder. Behold, these two shafts coming together fall at my feet, and two others pass off barely touching my ears. Completing the period of exile and having achieved many wonderful feats, Partha saluteth me and whispereth in my ears. Endued with wisdom and beloved of his relatives, this Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu, is, indeed, beheld by us after a long time, blazing with beauty and grace. Possessed of car and arrows, furnished with handsome fences and quiver and conch and banner and coat of mail, decked with diadem and scimitar and bow, the son of Pritha shineth like the blazing (_Homa_) fire surrounded with sacrificial ladles and fed with sacrificial butter.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Beholding the Kurus ready for battle, Arjuna addressing Matsya's son in words suitable to the occasion, said, 'O charioteer, restrain thou the steeds at such a point whence my arrows may reach the enemy. Meanwhile, let me see, where, in the midst of this army, is that vile wretch of the Kuru race. Disregarding all these, and singling out that vainest of princes I will fall upon his head, for upon the defeat of that wretch the others will regard themselves as defeated. There standeth Drona, and thereafter him his son. And there are those great bowmen--Bhishma and Kripa and Karna. I do not see, however, the king there. I suspect that anxious to save his life, he retreateth by the southern road, taking away with him the kine. Leaving this array of car-warriors, proceed to the spot where Suyodhana is. There will I fight, O son of Virata, for there the battle will not be fruitless, Defeating him I will come back, taking away the kine.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, the son of Virata restrained the steeds with an effort and turned them by a pull at the bridle from the spot where those bulls of the Kuru race were, and urged them on towards the place where Duryodhana was. And as Arjuna went away leaving that thick array of cars, Kripa, guessing his intention, addressed his own comrades, saying, 'This Vibhatsu desireth not to take up his stand at a spot remote from the king. Let us quickly fall upon the flanks of the advancing hero. When inflamed with wrath, none else, unassisted, can encounter him in battle save the deity of a thousand eyes, or Krishna the son of Devaki. Of what use to us would the kine be or this vast wealth also, if Duryodhana were to sink, like a boat, in the ocean of _Partha_?' Meanwhile, Vibhatsu, having proceeded towards that division of the army, announced himself speedily by name, and covered the troops with his arrows thick as locusts. And covered with those countless shafts shot by Partha, the hostile warriors could not see anything, the earth itself and the sky becoming overwhelmed therewith. And the soldiers who had been ready for the fight were so confounded that none could even the flee from the field. And beholding the light-handedness of Partha they all applauded it mentally. And Arjuna then blew his conch which always made the bristles of the foe stand erect. And twanging his best of bows, he urged the creatures on his flagstaff to roar more frightfully. And at the blare of his conch and the rattle of his car-wheels, and the twang of the _Gandiva_, and the roar of the superhuman creatures stationed on his flagstaff, the earth itself began to tremble. And shaking their upraised tails and lowing together, the kine turned back, proceeding along the southern road.'" SECTION LIV Vaisampayana said, "Having disorganised the hostile host by force and having recovered the kine, that foremost of bowmen, desirous of fighting again, proceeded towards Duryodhana. And beholding the kine running wild towards the city of the Matsyas, the foremost warriors of the Kurus regarded Kiritin to have already achieved success. And all of a sudden they fell upon Arjuna who was advancing towards Duryodhana. And beholding their countless divisions firmly arrayed in order of battle with countless banners waving over them, that slayer of foes, addressing the son of the king of the Matsyas, said, 'Urge on, to the best of their speed by this road, these white steeds decked with golden bridles. Strive thou well, for I would approach this crowd of Kuru lions. Like an elephant desiring an encounter with another, the _Suta's_ son of wicked soul eagerly desireth a battle with me. Take me, O prince, to him who hath grown so proud under the patronage of Duryodhana.' Thus addressed, the son of Virata by means of those large steeds endued with the speed of the wind and furnished with golden armour, broke that array of cars and took the Pandava into the midst of the battle-field. And seeing this those mighty car-warriors, Chitrasena and Sangramajit and Satrusaha and Jaya, desirous of aiding Karna, rushed with arrows and long shafts, towards the advancing hero of Bharata's race. Then that foremost of men, inflamed with wrath, began to consume by means of fiery arrows shot from his bow, that array of cars belonging to those bulls among the Kurus, like a tremendous conflagration consuming a forest. Then, when the battle began to rage furiously, the Kuru hero, Vikarna, mounted on his car, approached that foremost of car-warriors, Partha, the younger brother of Bhima,--showering upon him terrible shafts thick and long. Then cutting Vikarna's bow furnished with a tough string and horns overlaid with gold, Arjuna cut off his flagstaff. And Vikarna, beholding his flagstaff cut off, speedily took to flight. And after Vikarna's flight, Satruntapa, unable to repress his ire, began to afflict Partha, that obstructer of foes and achiever of super-human feats, by means of a perfect shower of arrows. And drowned, as it were, in the midst of the Kuru-array, Arjuna, pierced by that mighty car-warrior,--king Satruntapa--pierced the latter in return with five and then slew his car-driver with ten shafts, and pierced by that bull of the Bharata race with an arrow capable of cleaving the thickest coat of mail, Satruntapa fell dead on the field of battle, like a tree from a mountain-top torn up by the wind. And those brave bulls among men, mangled in battle by that braver bull among men, began to waver and tremble like mighty forests shaken by the violence of the wind that blows at the time of the universal dissolution. And struck in battle by Partha, the son of Vasava, those well-dressed heroes among men--those givers of wealth endued with the energy of Vasava--defeated and deprived of life, began to measure their lengths on the ground, like full-grown Himalayan elephants clad in mails of black steel decked with gold. And like unto a raging fire consuming a forest at the close of summer, that foremost of men, wielding the _Gandiva_, ranged the field in all directions, slaying his foes in battle thus. And as the wind rangeth at will, scattering masses of clouds and fallen leaves in the season of spring, so did that foremost of car-warriors--Kiritin--ranged in that battle, scattering all his foes before him. And soon slaying the red steeds yoked unto the car of Sangramajit, the brother of Vikartana's son, that hero decked in diadem and endued with great vigour then cut off his antagonist's head by a crescent-shaped arrow. And when his brother was slain, Vikartana's son of the _Suta_ caste, mustering all his prowess, rushed at Arjuna, like a huge elephant with out-stretched tusks, or like a tiger at a mighty bull. And the son of Vikarna quickly pierced the son of Pandu with twelve shafts and all his steeds also in every part of their bodies and Virata's son too in his hand. And rushing impetuously against Vikarna's son who was suddenly advancing against him, Kiritin attacked him fiercely like Garuda of variegated plumage swooping down upon a snake. And both of them were foremost of bowmen, and both were endued with great strength, and both were capable of slaying foes. And seeing that an encounter was imminent between them, the Kauravas, anxious to witness it, stood aloof as lookers on. And beholding the offender Karna, the son of Pandu, excited to fury, and glad also at having him, soon made him, his horses, his car, and car-driver invisible by means of a frightful shower of countless arrows. And the warriors of the Bharatas headed by Bhishma, with their horses, elephants, and cars, pierced by Kiritin and rendered invisible by means of his shafts, their ranks also scattered and broken, began to wail aloud in grief. The illustrious and heroic Karna, however counteracting with numberless arrows of his own those shafts by Arjuna's hand, soon burst forth in view with bow and arrows like a blazing fire. And then there arose the sound of loud clapping of hands, with the blare of conchs and trumpets and kettle-drums made by the Kurus while they applauded Vikartana's son who filled the atmosphere with the sound of his bow-string flapping against his fence. And beholding Kiritin filling the air with the twang of _Gandiva_, and the upraised tail of the monkey that constituted his flag and that terrible creature yelling furiously from the top of his flagstaff, Karna sent forth a loud roar. And afflicting by means of his shafts, Vikartana's son along with his steeds, car and car-driver, Kiritin impetuously poured an arrowy shower on him, casting his eyes on the grandsire and Drona and Kripa. And Vikartana's son also poured upon Partha a heavy shower of arrows like a rain-charged cloud. And the diadem-decked Arjuna also covered Karna with a thick down-pour of keen-edged shafts. And the two heroes stationed on their cars, creating clouds of keen-edged arrows in a combat carried on by means of countless shafts and weapons, appeared to the spectators like the sun and the moon covered by clouds, and the light-handed Karna, unable to bear the sight of the foe, pierced the four horses of the diadem-decked hero with whetted arrows, and then struck his car-driver with three shafts, and his flagstaff also with three. Thus struck, that grinder of all adversaries in battle, that bull of the Kuru race, Jishnu wielding the _Gandiva_, like a lion awaked from slumber, furiously attacked Karna by means of straight-going arrows. And afflicted by the arrowy shower (of Karna), that illustrious achiever of super-human deeds soon displayed a thick shower of arrows in return. And he covered Karna's car with countless shafts like the sun covering the different worlds with rays. And like a lion attacked by an elephant, Arjuna, taking some keen crescent-shaped arrows from out of his quiver and drawing his bow to his ear, pierced the _Suta's_ son on every part of his body. And that grinder of foes pierced Karna's arms and thighs and head and forehead and neck and other principal parts of his body with whetted shafts endued with the impetuosity of the thunderbolt and shot from the _Gandiva_ in battle. And mangled and afflicted by the arrows shot by Partha the son of Pandu, Vikartana's son, quitted the van of battle, and quickly took to flight, like one elephant vanquished by another.'" SECTION LV Vaisampayana said, "After the son of Radha had fled from the field, other warriors headed by Duryodhana, one after another, fell upon the son of Pandu with their respective divisions. And like the shore withstanding the fury of the surging sea, that warrior withstood the rage of that countless host rushing towards him, arrayed in order of battle and showering clouds of arrows. And that foremost of car-warriors, Kunti's son Vibhatsu of white steeds, rushed towards the foe, discharging celestial weapons all the while. Partha soon covered all the points of the horizon with countless arrows shot from the _Gandiva_, like the sun covering the whole earth with his rays. And amongst those that fought on cars and horses and elephants, and amongst the mail-clad foot-soldiers, there was none that had on his body a space of even two finger's breadth unwounded with sharp arrows. And for his dexterity in applying celestial weapons, and for the training of the steeds and the skill of Uttara, and for the coursing of his weapons, and his prowess and light-handedness, people began to regard Arjuna as the fire that blazeth forth during the time of the universal dissolution for consuming all created things. And none amongst the foe could cast his eyes on Arjuna who shone like a blazing fire of great effulgence. And mangled by the arrows of Arjuna, the hostile ranks looked like newly-risen clouds on the breast of a hill reflecting the solar rays, or like groves of _Asoka_ trees resplendent with clusters of flowers. Indeed, afflicted by the arrows of Partha, the soldiers looked like these, or like a beautiful garland whose flowers gradually wither and drop away: And the all-pervading wind bore on its wings in the sky the torn flags and umbrellas of the hostile host. And affrighted at the havoc amongst their own ranks, the steeds fled in all directions, freed from their yokes by means of Partha's arrows and dragging after them broken portions of cars and elephants, struck on their ears and ribs and tusks and nether lips and other delicate parts of the body, began to drop down on the battle-field. And the earth, bestrewn in a short time with the corpses of elephants belonging to the Kauravas, looked like the sky overcast with masses of black clouds. And as that fire of blazing flames at the end of the _yuga_ consumeth all perishable things of the world, both mobile and immobile, so did Partha, O king, consumeth all foes in battle. And by the energy of his weapons and the twang of his bow, and the preter-natural yells of the creatures stationed on his flagstaff, and the terrible roar of the monkey, and by the blast of his conch, that mighty grinder of foes, Vibhatsu, struck terror into the hearts of all the troops of Duryodhana. And the strength of every hostile warrior seemed, as it were, to be levelled to the dust at the very sight of Arjuna. And unwilling to commit the daring act of sin of slaying them that were defenceless, Arjuna suddenly fell back and attacked the army from behind by means of clouds of keen-edged arrows proceeding towards their aims like hawks let off by fowlers. And he soon covered the entire welkin with clusters of blood-drinking arrows. And as the (infinite) rays of the powerful sun, entering a small vessel, are contracted within it for want of space, so the countless shafts of Arjuna could not find space for their expansion even within the vast welkin. Foes were able to behold Arjuna's car, when near, only once, for immediately after, they were with their horses, sent to the other world. And as his arrows unobstructed by the bodies of foes always passed through them, so his car, unimpeded by hostile ranks, always passed through the latter. And, indeed, he began to toss about and agitate the hostile troops with great violence like the thousand-headed Vasuki sporting in the great ocean. And as Kiritin incessantly shot his shafts, the noise of the bow-string, transcending every sound, was so loud that the like of it had never been heard before by created beings. And the elephants crowding the field, their bodies pierced with (blazing) arrows with small intervals between looked like black clouds coruscated with solar rays. And ranging in all directions and shooting (arrows) right and left, Arjuna's bow was always to be seen drawn to a perfect circle. And the arrows of the wielder of the _Gandiva_ never fell upon anything except the aim, even as the eye never dwelleth on anything that is not beautiful. And as the track of a herd of elephants marching through the forest is made of itself, so was the track was made of itself for the car of Kiritin. And struck and mangled by Partha, the hostile warriors thought that,--_Verily, Indra himself, desirous of Partha's victory, accompanied by all the immortals is slaying us_! And they also regarded Vijaya, who was making a terrible slaughter around, to be none else than Death himself who having assumed the form of Arjuna, was slaying all creatures. And the troops of the Kurus, struck by Partha, were so mangled and shattered that the scene looked like the achievement of Partha himself and could be compared with nothing else save what was observable in Partha's combats. And he severed the heads of foes, even as reapers cut off the tops of deciduous herbs. And the Kurus all lost their energy owing to the terror begot of Arjuna. And tossed and mangled by the Arjuna-gale, the forest of Arjuna's foes reddened the earth with purple secretions. And the dust mixed with blood, uplifted by the wind, made the very rays of the sun redder still. And soon the sun-decked sky became so red that it looked very much like the evening. Indeed, the sun ceaseth to shed his rays as soon as he sets, but the son of Pandu ceased not to shoot his shafts. And that hero of inconceivable energy overwhelmed, by means of all celestial weapons, all the great bowmen of the enemy, although they were possessed of great prowess. And Arjuna then shot three and seventy arrows of sharp points at Drona, and ten at Dussaha and eight at Drona's son, and twelve at Duhsasana, and three at Kripa, the son of Saradwat. And that slayer of foes pierced Bhishma, the son of Santanu, with arrows, and king Duryodhana with a hundred. And, lastly, he pierced Karna in the ear with a bearded shaft. And when that great bowmen Karna, skilled in all weapons, was thus pierced, and his horses and car and car-driver were all destroyed, the troops that supported him began to break. And beholding those soldiers break and give way the son of Virata desirous of knowing Partha's purpose, addressed him on the field of battle, and said, 'O Partha, standing on this beautiful car, with myself as charioteer, towards which division shall I go? For, commanded by thee, I would soon take thee thither.' "Arjuna replied, 'O Uttara, yonder auspicious warrior whom thou seest cased in coat of tiger-skin and stationed on his car furnished with a blue-flag and drawn by red steeds, is Kripa. There is to be seen the van of Kripa's division. Take me thither. I shall show that great bowman my swift-handedness in archery. And that warrior whose flag beareth the device of an elegant water-pot worked in gold, is the preceptor Drona--that foremost of all wielders of weapons. He is always an object of regard with me, as also with all bearers of arms. Do thou, therefore, circumambulate that great hero cheerfully. Let us bend our heads there, for that is the eternal virtue. If Drona strikes my body first, then I shall strike him, for then he will not be able to resent it. There, close to Drona, that warrior whose flag beareth the device of a bow, is the preceptor's son, the great car-warrior Aswatthaman, who is always an object of regard with me as also with every bearer of arms. Do thou, therefore, stop again and again, while thou comest by his car. There, that warrior who stayeth on his car, cased in golden mail and surrounded by a third part of the army consisting of the most efficient troops, and whose flag beareth the device of an elephant in a ground of gold, is the illustrious king Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra. O hero, take before him this thy car that is capable of grinding hostile cars. This king is difficult of being vanquished in battle and is capable of grinding all foes. He is regarded as the first of all Drona's disciples in lightness of hand. I shall, in battle, show him my superior swiftness in archery. There, that warrior whose flag beareth the device of a stout chord for binding elephants, is Karna, the son of Vikartana, already known to thee. When thou comest before that wicked son of Radha, be thou very careful, for he always challengeth me to an encounter. And that warrior whose flag is blue and beareth the device of five stars with a sun (in the centre), and who endued with great energy stayeth on his car holding a huge bow in hand and wearing excellent fences, and over whose head is an umbrella of pure white, who standeth at the head of a multitudinous array of cars with various flags and banners like the sun in advance of masses of black clouds, and whose mail of gold looks bright as the sun or the moon, and who with his helmet of gold striketh terror into my heart, is Bhishma, the son of Santanu and the grandsire of us all. Entertained with regal splendour by Duryodhana, he is very partial and well-affected towards that prince. Let him be approached last of all, for he may, even now, be an obstacle to me. While fighting with me, do thou carefully guide the steeds.' Thus addressed by him, Virata's son, O king, guided Savyasachin's car with great alacrity towards the spot where Kripa stood anxious to fight." SECTION LVI Vaisampayana said, "And the ranks of those fierce bowmen, the Kurus, looked like masses of clouds in the rainy season drifting before a gentle wind. And close (to those ranks of foot-soldiers) stood the enemy's horses ridden by terrible warriors. And there were also elephants of terrible mien, looking resplendent in beautiful armour, ridden by skilled combatants and urged on with iron crows and hooks. And, O king, mounted on a beautiful car, Sakra came there accompanied by the celestials,--the _Viswas_ and _Maruts_. And crowded with gods, _Yakshas, Gandharvas_ and _Nagas_, the firmament looked as resplendent as it does when bespangled with the planetary constellation in a cloudless night. And the celestials came there, each on his own car, desirous of beholding the efficacy of their weapons in human warfare, and for witnessing also the fierce and mighty combat that would take place when Bhishma and Arjuna would meet. And embellished with gems of every kind and capable of going everywhere at the will of the rider, the heavenly car of the lord of the celestials, whose roof was upheld by a hundred thousand pillars of gold with (a central) one made entirely of jewels and gems, was conspicuous in the clear sky. And there appeared on the scene three and thirty gods with Vasava (at their head)--and (many) _Gandharvas_ and _Rakshasas_ and _Nagas_ and _Pitris_, together with the great _Rishis_. And seated on the car of the lord of the celestials, appeared the effulgent persons of kings, Vasumanas and Valakshas and Supratarddana, and Ashtaka and Sivi and Yayati and Nahusha and Gaya and Manu and Puru and Raghu and Bhanu and Krisaswa and Sagara and Nala. And there shone in a splendid array, each in its proper place the cars of Agni and Isa and Soma and Varuna and Prajapati and Dhatri and Vidhatri and Kuvera and Yama, and Alamvusha and Ugrasena and others, and of the _Gandharva_ Tumburu. And all the celestials and the _Siddhas_, and all the foremost of sages came there to behold that encounter between Arjuna and the Kurus. And the sacred fragrance of celestial garlands filled the air like that of blossoming woods at the advent of spring. And the red and reddish umbrellas and robes and garlands and _chamaras_ of the gods, as they were stationed there, looked exceedingly beautiful. And the dust of the earth soon disappeared and (celestial) effulgence lit up everything. And redolent of divine perfumes, the breeze began to soothe the combatants. And the firmament seemed ablaze and exceedingly beautiful, decked with already arrived and arriving cars of handsome and various make, all illumined with diverse sorts of jewels, and brought thither by the foremost of the celestials. And surrounded by the celestials, and wearing a garland of lotuses and lilies the powerful wielder of the thunderbolt looked exceedingly beautiful on his car. And the slayer of Vala, although he steadfastly gazed at his son on the field of battle, was not satiated with such gazing." SECTION LVII Vaisampayana said, "Beholding the army of the Kurus arrayed in order of battle, that descendant of the Kuru race, Partha, addressing Virata's son, said, 'Do thou proceed to the spot where Kripa, the son of Saradwat, is going by the southern side of that car whose flag is seen to bear the device of a golden altar.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Dhananjaya, the son of Virata urged, without a moment's delay, those steeds of silvery hue decked in golden armour. And making them adopt, one after another, every kind of the swifter paces, he urged those fiery steeds resembling the moon in colour. And versed in horse-lore, Uttara, having approached the Kuru host, turned back those steeds endued with the speed of the wind. And skilled in guiding vehicles, the prince of Matsya, sometimes wheeling about, and sometimes proceeding in circular mazes, and sometimes turning to the left, began to be wilder than the Kurus. And wheeling round, the intrepid and mighty son of Virata at last approached the car of Kripa, and stood confronting him. Then announcing his own name, Arjuna powerfully blew that best of conchs called _Devadatta_, of loud blare. And blown on the field of battle by the mighty Jishnu, the blare of that conch was heard like the splitting of a mountain. And seeing that the conch did not break into a hundred fragments when blown by Arjuna, the Kurus with all their warriors began to applaud it highly. And having reached the very heavens, that sound coming back was heard even like the crash of the thunderbolt hurled by Maghavat on the mountain breast. Thereupon that heroic and intrepid and mighty car-warrior, Saradwat's son Kripa, endued with strength and prowess, waxing wroth at Arjuna, and unable to bear that sound and eager for fight, took up his own sea-begotten conch and blew it vehemently. And filling the three worlds with that sound, that foremost of car-warriors took up a large bow and twanged the bow-string powerfully. And those mighty car-warriors, equal unto two suns, standing opposed to each other, shone like two masses of autumnal clouds. Then Saradwat's son quickly pierced Partha, that slayer of hostile heroes, with ten swift and whetted arrows capable of entering into the very vitals. And Pritha's son also, on his part, drawing that foremost of weapons, the _Gandiva_, celebrated over the world, shot innumerable iron-arrows, all capable of penetrating into the very core of the body. Thereupon Kripa, by means of whetted shafts, cut into hundreds and thousands of fragments, those blood-drinking arrows of Partha before they could come up. Then that mighty car-warrior, Partha also, in wrath displaying various manoeuvres, covered all sides with a shower of arrows. And covering the entire welkin with his shafts, that mighty warrior of immeasurable soul, the son of Pritha, enveloped Kripa with hundreds of shafts. And sorely afflicted by those whetted arrows resembling flames of fire, Kripa waxed wroth and quickly afflicting the high-souled Partha of immeasurable prowess with ten thousand shafts, set up on the field of battle a loud roar. Then the heroic Arjuna quickly pierced the four steeds of his adversary with four fatal arrows shot from the _Gandiva_, sharp and straight, and furnished with golden wings. And pierced by means of those whetted arrows resembling flames of fire those steeds suddenly reared themselves, and in consequence Kripa reeled off his place. And seeing Gautama thrown off his place, the slayer of hostile heroes, the descendant of the Kuru race, out of regard for his opponent's dignity, ceased to discharge his shafts at him. Then regaining his proper place, Gautama quickly pierced Savyasachin with ten arrows furnished with feathers of the _Kanka_ bird. Then with a crescent-shaped arrow of keen edge, Partha cut off Kripa's bow and leathern fences. And soon Partha cut off Kripa's coat of mail also by means of arrows capable of penetrating the very vitals, but he did not wound his person. And divested of his coat of mail, his body resembled that of a serpent which hath in season cast off its slough. And as soon as his bow had been cut off by Partha, Gautama took up another and stringed it in a trice. And strange to say, that bow of him was also cut off by Kunti's son, by means of straight shafts. And in this way that slayer of hostile heroes, the son of Pandu, cut off other bows as soon as they were taken up, one after another, by Saradwat's son. And when all his bows were thus cut off, that mighty hero hurled, from his car, at Pandu's son, a javelin like unto the blazing thunderbolt. Thereupon, as the gold-decked javelin came whizzing through the air with the flash of a meteor, Arjuna cut it off by means of ten arrows. And beholding his dart thus cut off by the intelligent Arjuna, Kripa quickly took up another bow and almost simultaneously shot a number of crescent-shaped arrows. Partha, however, quickly cut them into fragments by means of ten keen-edged shafts, and endued with great energy, the son of Pritha then, inflamed with wrath on the field of battle, discharged three and ten arrows whetted on stone and resembling flames of fire. And with one of these he cut off the yoke of his adversary's car, and with four pierced his four steeds, and with the sixth he severed the head of his antagonist's car-driver from off his body. And with three that mighty car-warrior pierced, in that encounter, the triple bamboo-pole of Kripa's car and with two, its wheels. And with the twelfth arrow he cut off Kripa's flagstaff. And with the thirteenth Phalguna, who was like Indra himself as if smiling in derision, pierced Kripa in the breast. Then with his bow cut off, his car broken, his steeds slain, his car-driver killed, Kripa leapt down and taking up a mace quickly hurled it at Arjuna. But that heavy and polished mace hurled by Kripa was sent back along its course, struck by means of Arjuna's arrows. And then the warriors (of Kripa's division), desirous of rescuing the wrathful son of Saradwat encountered Partha from all sides and covered him with their arrows. Then the son of Virata, turning the steed to the left began to perform circuitous evolution called _Yamaka_ and thus withstood all those warriors. And those illustrious bulls among men, taking Kripa with them who had been deprived of his car, led him away from the vicinity of Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti." SECTION LVIII Vaisampayana said, "After Kripa had thus been taken away, the invincible Drona of red steeds, taking up his bow to which he had already stringed an arrow, rushed towards Arjuna of white steeds. And beholding at no great distance from him the preceptor advancing on his golden car, Arjuna that foremost of victorious warriors, addressing Uttara, said, 'Blessed be thou, O friend, carry me before that warrior on whose high banner-top is seen a golden altar resembling a long flame of fire and decked with numerous flags placed around, and whose car is drawn by steeds that are red and large, exceedingly handsome and highly-trained, of face pleasant and of quiet mien, and like unto corals in colour and with faces of coppery hue, for that warrior is Drona with whom I desire to fight. Of long arms and endued with mighty energy possessed of strength and beauty of person, celebrated over all the worlds for his prowess, resembling Usanas himself in intelligence and Vrihaspati in knowledge of morality, he is conversant with the four _Vedas_ and devoted to the practice of _Brahmacharya_ virtues. O friend, the use of the celestial weapons together with the mysteries of their withdrawal and the entire science of weapons, always reside in him. Forgiveness, self-control, truth, abstention from injury, rectitude of conduct,--these and countless other virtues always dwell in that regenerate one. I desire to fight with that highly-blessed one on the field. Therefore, take me before the preceptor and carry me thither, O Uttara.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Arjuna, Virata's son urged his steeds decked with gold towards the car of Bharadwaja's son. And Drona also rushed towards the impetuously advancing Partha, the son of Pandu,--that foremost of car-warriors,--like an infuriate elephant rushing towards an infuriate compeer. And the son of Bharadwaja then blew his conch whose blare resembled that of a hundred trumpets. And at that sound the whole army become agitated like the sea in a tempest. And beholding those excellent steeds red in hue mingling in battle with Arjuna's steeds of swan-like whiteness endued with the speed of the mind, all the spectators were filled with wonder. And seeing on the field of battle those car-warriors--the preceptor Drona and his disciple Partha--both endued with prowess, both invincible, both well-trained, both possessed of great energy and great strength, engaged with each other, that mighty host of the Bharatas began to tremble frequently. And that mighty car-warrior Partha, possessed of great prowess and filled with joy upon reaching Drona's car on his own, saluted the preceptor. And that slayer of hostile heroes, the mighty armed son of Kunti, then addressed Drona in an humble and sweet tone, saying, 'Having completed our exile in the woods, we are now desirous of avenging our wrongs. Even invincible in battle, it doth not behove thee to be angry with us. O sinless one, I will not strike thee unless thou strikest me first. Even this is my intention. It behoveth thee to act as thou choosest.' Thus addressed Drona discharged at him more than twenty arrows. But the light-handed Partha cut them off before they could reach him. And at this, the mighty Drona, displaying his lightness of hand in the use of weapons, covered Partha's car with a thousand arrows. And desirous of angering, Partha, that hero of immeasurable soul, then covered his steeds of silvery whiteness with arrows whetted on stone and winged with the feathers of the _Kanka_ bird. And when the battle between Drona and Kiritin thus commenced, both of them discharging in the encounter arrows of blazing splendour, both well-known for their achievements, both equal to the wind itself in speed, both conversant with celestial weapons, and both endued with mighty energy, began shooting clouds of arrows to bewilder the royal Kshatriyas. And all the warriors that were assembled there were filled with wonder at sight of all this. And they all admired Drona who quickly shot clouds of arrows exclaiming,--_Well done! Well done_! Indeed, _who else save Phalguna, is worthy of fighting with Drona in battle? Surely the duties of a Kshatriya are stern, for Arjuna fighteth with even his own preceptor_!--And it was thus that they who stood on the field of battle said unto one another. And inflamed with fire, those mighty-armed heroes standing before other, and each incapable of overcoming the other, covered each other with arrowy showers. And Bharadwaja's son, waxing wroth, drew his large and unconquerable bow plated on the back with gold, and pierced Phalguna with his arrows. And discharging at Arjuna's car innumerable whetted arrows possessed of solar effulgence, he entirely shrouded the light of the sun. And that great car-warrior of mighty arms, violently pierced Pritha's son with keen-edged shafts even as the clouds shower upon a mountain. Then taking up that foremost of bows, the _Gandiva_, destructive of foes and capable of withstanding the greatest strain, the impetuous son of Pandu cheerfully discharged countless shafts of various kinds adorned with gold, and that powerful warrior also baffled in a moment Drona's arrowy shower by means of those shafts shot from his own bow. And at this the spectators wondered greatly. And the handsome Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, ranging on his car, displayed his weapons on all sides at the same time. And the entire welkin covered with his arrows, became one wide expanse of shade. And at this Drona become invisible like the sun enveloped in mist. And shrouded by those excellent arrows on all sides, Drona looked like a mountain on fire. And beholding his own car completely enveloped by the arrows of Pritha's son, Drona that ornament of battle, bent his terrible and foremost of bows whose noise was as loud as that of the clouds. And drawing that first of weapons, which was like unto a circle of fire, he discharged a cloud of keen-edged shafts. And then there were heard on the field loud sounds like the splitting of bamboos set on fire. And that warrior of immeasurable soul, shooting from his bow arrows furnished with golden wings, covered all sides, shrouding the very light of the sun. And those arrows with knots well-peeled off, and furnished with golden wings, looked like flocks of birds in the sky. And the arrows discharged by Drona from his bow, touching one another at the wings, appeared like one endless line in the sky. And those heroes, thus discharging their arrows decked with gold, seemed to cover the sky with showers of meteors. And furnished with feathers of the _Kanka_ bird, those arrows looked like rows of cranes ranging in the autumnal sky. And the fierce and terrible encounter that took place between the illustrious Drona and Arjuna resembled that between Virata and Vasava of old. And discharging arrows at each other from bows drawn at their fullest stretch, they resembled two elephants assailing each other with their tusks. And those wrathful warriors--those ornaments of battle--fighting strictly according to established usage, displayed in that conflict various celestial weapons in due order. Then that foremost of victorious men, Arjuna, by means of his keen shafts resisted the whetted arrows shot by that best of preceptors. And displaying before the spectators various weapons, that hero of terrible prowess covered the sky with various kinds of arrows. And beholding that tiger among men, Arjuna, endued with fierce energy and intent upon striking him, that foremost of warriors and best of preceptors (from affection) began to fight with him playfully by means of smooth and straight arrows. And Bharadwaja's son fought on with Phalguna, resisting with his own the celestial weapons shot by the former. And the fight that took place between those enraged lions among men, incapable of bearing each other, was like unto encounter between the gods and the _Danavas_. And the son of Pandu repeatedly baffled with his own, the _Aindra_, the _Vayavya_, and the _Agneya_ weapons that were shot by Drona. And discharging keen shafts, those mighty bowmen, by their arrowy showers completely covered the sky and made a wide expanse of shade. And then the arrows shot by Arjuna, falling on the bodies of hostile warriors, produced the crash of thunderbolt. O king, elephants, cars, and horses, bathed in blood, looked like _Kinsuka_ trees crowned with flowers. And in that encounter between Drona and Arjuna, beholding the field covered with arms decked with bangles, and gorgeously-attired car-warriors, and coats of mail variegated with gold, and with banners lying scattered all about, and with warriors slain by means of Partha's arrows, the Kuru host became panic-stricken. And shaking their bows capable of bearing much strain, those combatants began to shroud and weaken each other with their shafts. And, O bull of the Bharata race, the encounter that took place between Drona and Kunti's son was dreadful in the extreme and resembled that between Vali and Vasava. And staking their very lives, they began to pierce each other straight arrows shot from their fully-stretched bow-strings. And a voice was heard in the sky applauding Drona, and saying, 'Difficult is the feat performed by Drona, inasmuch as he fighteth with Arjuna,--that grinder of foes, that warrior endued with mighty energy, of firm grasp, and invincible in battle,--that conqueror of both celestials and _Daityas_, that foremost of all car-warriors.' And beholding Partha's infallibility, training, fleetness of hand, and the range also of Arjuna's, arrows, Drona became amazed. And, O bull of the Bharata race, lifting up his excellent bow, the _Gandiva_, the unforbearing Partha drew it now with one hand and now with another shot an arrowy shower. And beholding that shower resembling a flight of locusts, the spectators wondering applauded him exclaiming, 'Excellent! Excellent!' And so ceaselessly did he shoot his arrows that the very air was unable to penetrate the thick array. And the spectators could not perceive any interval between the taking up of the arrows and letting them off. And in that fierce encounter characterised by lightness of hand in the discharge of weapons, Partha began to shoot his arrows more quickly than before. And then all at once hundreds and thousands of straight arrows fell upon Drona's car. And, O bull of the Bharata race, beholding Drona completely covered by the wielder of the _Gandiva_ with his arrows, the Kuru army set up exclamation of '_Oh'!_ and '_Alas'!_ And Maghavat, together with those _Gandharvas_ and _Apsaras_ that have come there, applauded the fleetness of Partha's hand. And that mighty car-warrior, the preceptor's son, then resisted the Pandva with a mighty array of cars. And although enraged with Arjuna, yet Aswatthaman mentally admired that feat of the high-souled son of Pritha. And waxing wroth, he rushed towards Partha, and discharged at him an arrowy shower like a heavy down-pour by the cloud. And turning his steeds towards Drona's son, Partha gave Drona an opportunity to leave the field. And thereupon the latter, wounded in that terrible encounter, and his mail and banner gone sped away by the aid of swift horses." SECTION LIX Vaisampayana said, "Then, O mighty king, Drona's son rushed to an encounter with Arjuna in battle. And beholding his rush to the conflict like a hurricane, showering shafts like a rain charged cloud Pritha's son received him with a cloud of arrows. And terrible was the encounter between them, like that between the gods and the _Danavas_. And they shot arrows at each other like Virata and Vasava. And the welkin being enveloped on all sides with arrows, the sun was completely hidden, and the air itself was hushed. And, O conqueror of hostile cities, as they assailed and struck each other, loud sounds arose as of bamboos on fire. And, O king, Aswatthaman's horses being sorely afflicted by Arjuna, they became bewildered and could not ascertain which way to go. And as Pritha's son ranged on the field, the powerful son of Drona finding an opportunity, cut off the string of the _Gandiva_ with an arrow furnished with a horse-shoe head. And beholding that extraordinary feat of his, the celestials applauded him highly. And exclaiming--'Well done!'--'Well done!' Drona and Bhishma, and Karna, and the mighty warrior Kripa, all applauded that feat of his greatly. And the son of Drona, drawing his excellent bow, pierced with his shafts, furnished with the feathers of the _Kanka_ bird, the breast of Partha, that bull among warriors. Thereupon, with a loud laughter, the mighty-armed son of Pritha attached a strong and fresh string to _Gandiva_. And moistening his bow-string with the sweat that stood on his forehead resembling the crescent moon, Pritha's son advanced towards his adversary, even as an infuriated leader of a herd of elephants rusheth at another elephant. And the encounter that took place between those two matchless heroes on the field of battle was exceedingly fierce and made the bristles of the spectators stand on their ends. And as those heroes endued with mighty energy fought on, the two mighty elephants, the Kurus beheld them with wonder. And those brave bulls among men assailed each other with arrows of snaky forms and resembling blazing fires. And as the couple of quivers belonging to the Pandava was inexhaustible, that hero was able to remain on the field immovable as a mountain. And as Aswatthaman's arrows, in consequence of his ceaseless discharge in that conflict, were quickly exhausted, it was for this that Arjuna prevailed over his adversary. Then Karna, drawing his large bow with great force twanged the bow-string. And thereupon arose loud exclamation of '_Oh!_' and '_Alas!_' And Pritha's son, casting his eyes towards the spot where that bow was twanged, beheld before him the son of Radha. And at that sight his wrath was greatly excited. And inflamed with ire and desirous of slaying Karna, that bull of the Kuru race stared at him with rolling eyes. And, O king, beholding Partha turn away from Aswatthaman's side, the Kuru warriors discharged thousands of arrows on Arjuna. And the mighty-armed Dhananjaya, that conqueror of foes, leaving Drona's son, all on a sudden rushed towards Karna. And rushing towards Karna, with eyes reddened in anger the son of Kunti, desirous of a single combat with him, said these words." SECTION LX "Arjuna said, 'The time, O Karna, hath now come for making good thy loquacious boast in the midst of the assembly, viz., that there is none equal to thee in fight. Today, O Karna, contending with me in terrible conflict, thou shalt know thy own strength, and shalt no longer disregard others. Abandoning good breeding, thou hadst uttered many harsh words, but this that thou endeavourest to do, is, I think, exceedingly difficult. Do thou now, O Radha's son, contending with me in the sight of the Kurus, make good what thou hadst said before in disregard of myself. Thou who hadst witnessed Panchala's princess outraged by villains in the midst of the court, do thou now reap the fruit of that act of thine. Fettered by the bonds of morality before, I desisted from vengeance then. Behold now, O son of Radha, the fruit of that wrath in conflict at hand. O wicked wight, we have suffered much misery in that forest for full twelve years. Reap thou today the fruits of our concentrated vengeance. Come, O Karna, cope with me in battle. Let these thy Kaurava warriors witness the conflict.' Hearing these words, Karna replied, 'Do thou, O Partha, accomplish in deed what thou sayst in words. The world knows that thy words verily exceed thy deed. That thou hadst foreborne formerly was owing to thy inability to do anything. If we witness thy prowess even now, we may acknowledge its truth. If thy past forbearance was due to thy having been bound by the bonds of morality, truly thou art equally bound now although thou regardest thyself free. Having as thou sayst, passed thy exile in the woods in strict accordance with thy pledge and being therefore weakened by practising an ascetic course of life, how canst thou desire a combat with me now! O Pritha's son, if Sakra himself fight on thy side, still I would feel no anxiety in putting forth my prowess. Thy wish, O son of Kunti, is about to be gratified. Do thou fight with me now, and behold my strength.' Hearing this, Arjuna said, 'Even now, O Radha's son, thou hadst fled from battle with me, and it is for this that thou livest although thy younger brother hath been slain. What other person, save thee, having beheld his younger brother slain in battle would himself fly from the field, and boast as thou dost, amid good and true men?'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said these words unto Karna, the invincible Vibhatsu rushed at him and charged a volley of shafts capable of penetrating through a coat of mail. But that mighty car-warrior, Karna, received with great alacrity that discharge with an arrowy shower of his own, heavy as the downpour of the clouds. And that fierce volley of arrows covered all sides and severally pierced the steeds and arms and leathern fences of the combatants. And incapable of putting up with that assault, Arjuna cut off the strings of Karna's quiver by means of a straight and sharp arrow. Thereupon, taking out from his quiver another arrow, Karna pierced the Pandava in the hand at which the latter's hold of the bow was loosened. And then the mighty-armed Partha cut off Karna's bow into fragments. And Karna replied by hurling a dart at his adversary, but Arjuna cut it off by means of his arrows. And then the warriors that followed the son of Radha rushed in crowds at Arjuna, but Partha sent them all to the abode of Yama by means of arrows shot from the _Gandiva_. And Vibhatsu slew the steeds of Karna by means of sharp and tough arrows shot from the bow-string drawn to the ear, and deprived of life they dropped down on the ground. And taking another sharp and blazing arrow endued with great energy, the mighty son of Kunti pierced the breast of Karna. And that arrow, cleaving through his mail, penetrated into his body. And at this, Karna's vision was obscured and his senses left him. And regaining consciousness, he felt a great pain, and leaving the combat fled in a northernly direction. And at this, the mighty car-warrior Arjuna and Uttara, both began to address him contumely." SECTION LXI Vaisampayana said, "Having defeated Vikartana's son, Arjuna said unto the son of Virata, 'Take me towards that division where yonder device of a golden palmyra is seen. There our grandfather, Santanu's son, like unto a celestial, waiteth, desirous of an encounter with me.' Thereupon, beholding that mighty host thronged with cars and horses and elephants, Uttara, sorely pierced with arrows, said, 'O hero, I am no longer able to guide thy excellent steeds. My spirits droop and my mind is exceedingly bewildered. All the directions seem to be whirling before my eyes in consequence of the energy of the celestial weapons used by thee and the Kurus. I have been deprived of my senses by the stench of fat and blood and flesh. Beholding all this, from terror my mind is, as it were, cleft in twain. Never before had I beheld such a muster of horses in battle. And at the flapping of fences, and the blare of conchs, the leonine roars made by the warriors and the shrieks of elephants, and the twang of the _Gandiva_ resembling the thunder, I have, O hero, been so stupefied that I have been deprived of both hearing and memory. And, O hero, beholding thee incessantly drawing to a circle, in course of the conflict, the _Gandiva_ which resembleth a circle of fire, my sight faileth me and my heart is rent asunder. And seeing thy fierce form in battle, like that of the wielder of the _Pinaka_ while inflamed with wrath, and looking also at the terrible arrows shot by thee, I am filled with fear. I fail to see when thou takest up thy excellent arrows, when thou fixest them on the bow-string, and when thou lettest them off. And though all this is done before my eyes, yet, deprived of my senses, I do not see it. My spirits are drooping and earth itself seems to be swimming before me. I have no strength to hold the whip and the reins.' Hearing these words, Arjuna said, 'Do thou not fear. Assure thyself. Thou also hast, on the field of battle performed, O bull among men, wonderful feats. Blessed be thou, thou art a prince and born in the illustrious line of Matsyas. It behoveth thee not to feel dispirited in chastising thy foes. Therefore, O prince, stationed on my car, muster all thy fortitude and hold the reins of my steeds, O slayer of foes, when I once more become engaged in battle.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this unto Virata's son, that best of men and foremost of car-warriors, the mighty-armed Arjuna, again addressed the son of Virata, saying. 'Take me without delay to the van of Bhishma's division. I will cut off his very bow-string in the battle. Thou shalt behold today the celestial weapons of blazing beauty, shot by me, look like flashes of lightning disporting amid the clouds in the sky. The Kauravas shall behold the gold decked back of my _Gandiva_ today, and assembled together the foe shall dispute, saying,--_By which hand of his, the right or the left, doth he shoot_? And I shall cause a dreadful river (of death) to flow today towards the other world with blood for its waters and cars for its eddies, and elephants for its crocodiles. I shall today, with my straight arrows, extirpate the _Kuru_ forest having hands and feet and heads and backs and arms for the branches of its trees. Alone, bow in hand, vanquishing the Kuru host, a hundred paths shall open before me like those of a forest in conflagration. Struck by me thou shalt today behold the Kuru army moving round and round like a wheel (unable to fly off the field). I shall show thee today my excellent training in arrows and weapons. Stay thou on my car firmly, whether the ground be smooth or uneven. I can pierce with my winged arrows even the mountain of _Sumeru_ that stands touching the very heavens. I slew of old, at Indra's command, hundreds and thousands of _Paulomas_ and _Kalakhanjas_ in battle. I have obtained my firmness of grasp from Indra, and my lightness of hand from _Brahman_, and I have learnt various modes of fierce attack and defence amid crowds of foes from _Prajapati_. I vanquished, on the other side of the great ocean, sixty thousands of car-warriors--all fierce archers--residing in _Hiranyapura_. Behold, now I defeat the multitudinous host of the Kurus like a tempest scattering a heap of cotton. With my fiery arrows I shall today set the _Kuru_-forest to fire, having banners for its trees, the foot-soldiers for its shrubs, and the car-warriors for its beasts of prey. Like unto the wielder of the thunderbolt overthrowing the Danavas, alone I shall, with my straight arrows, bring down from the chambers of their cars the mighty warrior of the Kuru army stationed therein and struggling in the conflict to the best of their power. I have obtained from _Rudra_ the _Raudra_, from _Varuna_ the _Varuna_, from _Agni_ the _Agneya_, from the god of Wind the _Vayava_, and from Sakra the thunderbolt and other weapons. I shall certainly exterminate the fierce _Dhartarashtra-forest_ though protected by many leonine warriors. Therefore, O Virata's son, let thy fears be dispelled.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus assured by Savyasachin, the son of Virata penetrated into that fierce array of cars protected by Bhishma. The son of Ganga, however, of fierce deeds, cheerfully withstood the mighty-armed hero advancing from desire of vanquishing the heroes in battle. Jishnu, then, confronting Bhishma, cut off his standard clean off at the roots by shooting a gold-decked arrow pierced by which it fell to the ground. And at this, four mighty warriors, Duhsasana and Vikarna and Dussaha and Vivingsati, skilled in weapons and endued with great energy, and all decked with handsome garlands and ornaments, rushed towards that terrible bowman. And advancing towards Vibhatsu--that fierce archer, these all encompassed him around. Then the heroic Duhsasana pierced the son of Virata with a crescent-shaped arrow and he pierced Arjuna with another arrow in the breast. And Jishnu, confronting Duhsasana, cut off by means of a sharp-edged arrow furnished with vulturine wings his adversary's bow plaited with gold, and then pierced his person in the breast by means of five arrows. And afflicted by the arrows of Partha, Duhsasana fled, leaving the combat. Then Vikarna, the son of Dhritarashtra, pierced Arjuna--that slayer of hostile heroes, by means of sharp and straight arrows furnished with vulturine wings. But the son of Kunti within a moment hit him also in the forehead with straight shafts. And pierced by Arjuna, he fell down from his car. And at this, Dussaha, supported by Vivingsati, covered Arjuna with a cloud of sharp arrows, impelled by the desire of rescuing his brother. Dhananjaya, however, without the least anxiety, pierced both of them almost at the same instant by means of couple of keen-edged arrows and then slew the steeds of both. And there upon, both those sons of Dhritarashtra, deprived of their steeds and their bodies mangled were taken away by the warrior behind them who had rushed forward with other cars. Then the unvanquished Vibhatsu, the mighty son of Kunti, decked with diadem and sure of aim, simultaneously attacked all sides with his arrows." SECTION LXII Vaisampayana said, "Then, O thou of the Bharata race, all the great car-warriors of the Kurus, united together, began to assail Arjuna to the best of their might from all sides. But that hero of immeasurable soul completely covered all those mighty car-warriors with clouds of arrows, even as the mist covereth the mountains. And the roars of huge elephants and conchs, mingling together, produced a loud up roar. And penetrating through the bodies of elephants and horses as also through steel coats of mail, the arrows shot by Partha fell by thousands. And shooting shafts with the utmost celerity, the son of Pandu seemed in that contest to resemble the blazing sun of an autumnal midday. And afflicted with fear, the car-warriors began to leap down from their cars and the horse-soldiers from horse-back, while the foot-soldiers began to fly in all directions. And loud was the clatter made by Arjuna's shafts as they cleft the coats of mail belonging to mighty warriors, made of steel, silver, and copper. And the field was soon covered with the corpses of warriors mounted on elephants and horses, all mangled by the shafts of Partha of great impetuosity like unto sighing snakes. And then it seemed as if Dhananjaya, bow in hand, was dancing on the field of battle. And sorely affrighted at the twang of the _Gandiva_ resembling the noise of the thunder, many were the combatants that fled from that terrible conflict. And the field of battle was bestrewn with severed heads decked with turbans, ear-rings and necklaces of gold, and the earth looked beautiful by being scattered all over with human trunks mangled by shafts, and arms having bows in their grasp and hands decked with ornaments. And, O bull of the Bharata race, in consequence of heads cut off by whetted shafts ceaselessly falling on the ground, it seemed as if a shower of stones fell from the sky. And that Partha of formidable prowess, displaying his fierceness, now ranged the field of battle, pouring the terrible fire of his wrath upon the sons of Dhritarashtra. And beholding the fierce prowess of Arjuna who thus scorched the hostile host, the Kuru warriors, in the very presence of Duryodhana, became dispirited and ceased to fight. And, O Bharata, having struck terror into that host and routed those mighty car-warriors, that fore-most of victors, ranged on the field. And the son of Pandu then created on the field of battle a dreadful river of blood, with waving billows, like unto the river of death that is created by Time at the end of the _Yuga_, having the dishevelled hair of the dead and the dying for its floating moss and straw, with bows and arrows for its boats, fierce in the extreme and having flesh and animal juices for its mire. And coats of mail and turbans floated thick on its surface. And elephants constituted its alligators and the cars its rafts. And marrow and fat and blood constituted its currents. And it was calculated to strike terror into the hearts of the spectators. And dreadful to behold, and fearful in the extreme, and resounding with the yells of ferocious beasts, keen edged weapons constituted its crocodiles. And _Rakshasas_ and other cannibals haunted it from one end to the other. And strings of pearls constituted its ripples, and various excellent ornaments, its bubbles. And having swarms of arrows for its fierce eddies and steeds for its tortoises, it was incapable of being crossed. And the mighty car warrior constituted its large island, and it resounded with the blare of conchs and the sound of drums. And the river of blood that Partha created was incapable of being crossed. Indeed, so swift-handed was Arjuna that the spectators could not perceive any interval between his taking up an arrow, and fixing it on the bow-string, and letting it off by a stretch of the _Gandiva_." SECTION LXIII Vaisampayana said, "Then while a great havoc was being made among the Kurus, Santanu's son, Bhishma, and grandsire of the Bharatas rushed at Arjuna, taking up an excellent bow adorned with gold, and many arrows also of keen points and capable of piercing into the very vitals of the foe and afflicting him sorely. And in consequence of a white umbrella being held over his head, that tiger among men looked beautiful like unto a hill at sunrise. And the son of Ganga, blowing his conch cheered the sons of Dhritarashtra, and wheeling along his right came upon Vibhatsu and impeded his course. And that slayer of hostile heroes, the son of Kunti, beholding him approach, received him with a glad heart, like a hill receiving a rain-charged cloud. And Bhishma, endued with great energy, pierced Partha's flag-staff with eight arrows. The arrows reaching the flag-staff of Pandu's son, struck the blazing ape and those creatures also stationed in the banner-top. And then the son of Pandu, with a mighty javelin of sharp edge cut of Bhishma's umbrella which instantly fell on the ground. And then the light-handed son of Kunti struck his adversary's flag-staff also with many shafts, and then his steeds and then the couple of drivers that protected Bhishma's flanks. And unable to bear this, Bhishma though cognisant of the Pandava's might, covered Dhananjaya with a powerful celestial weapon. And the son of Pandu, of immeasurable soul, hurling in return a celestial weapon at Bhishma, received that from Bhishma like a hill receiving a deep mass of clouds. And the encounter that took place between Partha and Bhishma, was fierce and the Kaurava warriors with their troops stood as lookers on. And in the conflict between Bhishma and the son of Pandu, shafts striking against shafts shone in the air like fireflies in the season of rains. And, O king, in consequence of Partha's shooting arrows with both his right and left hands, the bent _Gandiva_ seemed like a continuous circle of fire. And the son of Kunti then covered Bhishma with hundreds of sharp and keen-edged arrows, like a cloud covering the mountain-breast with its heavy downpour. And Bhishma baffled with his own arrows that arrowy shower, like the bank resisting the swelling sea, and covered the son of Pandu in return. And those warriors, cut into a thousand pieces in battle, fell fast in the vicinity of Phalguna's car. And then there was a downpour, from the car of Pandu's son, of arrows furnished with golden wing, and raining through the sky like a flight of locusts. And Bhishma again repelled that arrowy shower with hundreds of whetted shafts shot by him. And then the Kauravas exclaimed.-- 'Excellent! Excellent!--Indeed, Bhishma hath performed an exceedingly difficult feat inasmuch as he hath fought with Arjuna. Dhananjaya is mighty and youthful, and dexterous and swift of hand. Who else, save Bhishma, the son of Santanu, or Krishna, the son of Devaki, or the mighty son of Bharadwaja, the foremost of preceptors, is able to bear the impetus of Partha in battle?' And repelling weapons with weapons, those two bulls of the Bharata race, both endued with great might, fought on playfully and infatuated the eyes of all created beings. And those illustrious warriors ranged on the field of battle, using the celestials weapons obtained from _Prajapati_ and _Indra_, and _Agni_ and the fierce _Rudra_, and _Kuvera_, and _Varuna_, and _Yama_, and _Vayu_. And all beings were greatly surprised, upon beholding those warriors engaged in combat. And they all exclaimed,--_Bravo Partha of long arms! Bravo Bhishma! Indeed, this application of celestial weapons that is being witnessed in the combat between Bhishma and Partha_ is rare among human beings." Vaisampayana continued, "Thus raged that conflict with weapons between those warriors conversant with all weapons. And when that conflict of celestial weapons ceased, then commenced a conflict with arrows. And Jishnu approaching his opponent, cut off with an arrow sharp like a razor the gold-decked bow of Bhishma. Within the twinkling of the eye, however, Bhishma, that mighty-armed and great car-warrior, took up another bow and stringed it. And inflamed with wrath, he showered upon Dhananjaya a cloud of arrows. And Arjuna, too, endued with great energy, rained upon Bhishma innumerable sharp-pointed and keen-edged arrows. And Bhishma also shot clouds of arrows upon Pandu's son. And conversant with celestial weapons and engaged in shooting and each other, arrows of keen points, no distinction, O king, could then be perceived between those illustrious warriors. And that mighty car-warrior, Kunti's son, covered with a diadem, and the heroic son of Santanu, obscured the ten directions with their arrows. And the Pandava covered Bhishma, and Bhishma also covered the Pandava, with clouds of shafts. And, O king, wonderful was this combat that took place in this world of men. And the heroic warriors that protected Bhishma's car, slain by the son of Pandu, fell prostrate, O monarch, beside the car of Kunti's son. And the feathery arrows of Swetavahana, shot from the _Gandiva_, fell in all directions as if with the object of making a wholesale slaughter of the foe. And issuing forth from his car those blazing arrows furnished with golden wings looked like rows of swans in the sky. And all the celestials with Indra, stationed in the firmament, gazed with wonder upon another celestial weapon hurled with great force by that wonderful archer Arjuna. And beholding that wonderful weapon of great beauty, the mighty _Gandiva_, Chitrasena, highly pleased, addressed the lord of celestials, saying, 'Behold these arrows shot by Partha coursing through the sky in one continuous line. Wonderful is the dexterity of Jishnu in evolving this celestial weapon! Human beings are incapable of shooting such a weapon, for it does not exist among men. How wonderful again is this concourse of mighty weapons existing from days of old! No interval can be perceived between his taking up the arrows, fixing them on the bow-string, and letting them off by stretching the _Gandiva_. The soldiers are incapable of even looking at the son of Pandu, who is like unto the midday sun blazing in the sky. So also none ventures to look at Bhishma, the son of Ganga. Both are famous for their achievements, and both are of fierce prowess. Both are equal in feats of heroism, and both are difficult of being vanquished in battle.' "Thus addressed by the _Gandharva_ about that combat between Partha and Bhishma, the lord of the celestials, O Bharata, paid proper respect unto both by a shower of celestial flowers. Meanwhile, Bhishma, the son of Santanu, assailed Arjuna on the left side, while that drawer of the bow with either hands was on the point of piercing him. And at this, Vibhatsu, laughing aloud, cut off with an arrow of keen edge and furnished with vulturine wings, the bow of Bhishma, that hero of solar effulgence. And then Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, pierced Bhishma in the breast with ten shafts although the latter was contending with all his prowess. And sorely afflicted with pain Ganga's son of mighty arms and irresistible in battle, stood for a long time leaning on the pole of his car. And beholding him deprived of consciousness the driver of his car-steeds, calling to mind the instructions about protecting the warriors when in a swoon, led him away for safety." SECTION LXIV Vaisampayana said, "After Bhishma had fled, leaving the van of battle, the illustrious son of Dhritarashtra hoisting high flag approached Arjuna, bow in hand and setting up a loud roar. And with a spear-headed shaft shot from his bow stretched to the ear, he pierced on the forehead of that terrible bowman of fierce prowess, Dhananjaya, ranging amidst the foes. And pierced with that keen shaft of golden point on the forehead, that hero of famous deeds looked resplendent, O king, like unto a beautiful hill with a single peak. And cut by that arrow, the warm life-blood gushed out profusely from the wound. And the blood trickling down his body shone beautifully like a wreath of golden flowers. And struck by Duryodhana with the shaft, the swift-handed Arjuna of unfailing strength, swelling with rage, pierced the king in return, taking up arrows that were endued with the energy of snakes of virulent poison. And Duryodhana of formidable energy attacked Partha, and Partha also, that foremost of heroes, attacked Duryodhana. And it was that those foremost of men, both born in the race of Ajamida, struck each other alike in the combat. And then (seated) on an infuriate elephant huge as a mountain and supported by four cars, Vikarna rushed against Jishnu, the son of Kunti. And beholding that huge elephant, advancing with speed, Dhananjaya struck him on the head between the temples with an iron arrow of great impetus shot from the bow-string stretched to the ear. And like the thunderbolt hurled by Indra splitting a mountain, that arrow furnished with vulturine wings, shot by Partha, penetrated, up to the very feathers, into the body of that elephant huge as hill. And sorely afflicted by the shaft, that lord of the elephant species began to tremble, and deprived of strength fell down on the ground in intense anguish, like the peak of mountain riven by thunder. And that best of elephants falling down on the earth, Vikarna suddenly alighting in great terror, ran back full eight hundred paces and ascended on the car of Vivingsati. And having slain with that thunder-like arrow that elephant huge as a mighty hill and looking like a mass of clouds, the son of Pritha smote Duryodhana in the breast with another arrow of the same kind. And both the elephant and the king having thus been wounded, and Vikarna having broken and fled along with the supporters of the king's car, the other warriors, smitten with the arrows shot from the _Gandiva_, fled from the field in panic. And beholding the elephant slain by Partha, and all the other warriors running away, Duryodhana, the foremost of the Kurus, turning away his car precipitately fled in that direction where Partha was not. And when Duryodhana was fast running away in alarm, pierced by that arrow and vomitting forth blood, Kiritin, still eager for battle and capable of enduring every enemy, thus censured him from wrath, 'Sacrificing thy great fame and glory, why dost thou fly away, turning thy back? Why are not those trumpets sounded now, as they were when thou hadst set out from thy kingdom? Lo, I am an obedient servant of Yudhishthira, myself being the third son of Pritha, standing here for battle. Turn back, show me thy face, O son of Dhritarashtra, and bear in thy mind the behaviour of kings. The name _Duryodhana_ bestowed on thee before is hereby rendered meaningless. When thou runnest away, leaving the battle, where is thy persistence in battle? Neither do I behold thy body-guards, O Duryodhana, before nor behind. O foremost of men, fly thou away and save thy life which is dear from the hands of Pandu's son.'" SECTION LXV Vaisampayana said, "Thus summoned to battle by the illustrious hero, Dhritarashtra's son turned back stung by those censures, like an infuriate and mighty elephant pricked by a hook. And stung by those reproaches and unable to bear them, that mighty and brave car-warrior endued with great swiftness, turned back on his car, like a snake that is trampled under foot. And beholding Duryodhana turn back with his wounds, Karna, that hero among men, decked with a golden necklace, stopped the king on the way and soothing him, himself proceeded along the north of Duryodhana's car to meet Partha in battle. And the mighty-armed Bhishma also, the son of Santanu, turning back his steeds decked with gold, enormous in size, and of tawny hue, rushed bow in hand, for protecting Duryodhana from Partha's hand. And Drona and Kripa and Vivingsati and Duhsasana and others also, quickly turning back, rushed forward with speed with drawn bows and arrows fixed on the bow-strings, for protecting Duryodhana. And beholding those divisions advance towards him like the swelling surges of the ocean, Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, quickly rushed at them like a crane rushing at a descending cloud. And with celestial weapons in their hands, they completely surrounded the son of Pritha and rained on him from all sides a perfect shower of shafts, like clouds showering on the mountain breast a heavy downpour of rain. And warding off with weapons, all the weapons of those bulls among the Kurus, the wielder of the _Gandiva_ who was capable of enduring all foes, evolved another irresistible weapon obtained from Indra, called _Sanmohana_. And entirely covering the cardinal and other directions with sharp and keen-edged arrows furnished with beautiful feathers, that mighty hero stupefied their senses with the twang of the _Gandiva_. And once more, taking up with both his hands that large conch of loud blare, Partha, that slayer of foes, blew it with force and filled the cardinal and other points, the whole earth, and sky, with that noise. And those foremost of the Kuru heroes were all deprived of their senses by the sound of that conch blown by Partha. And all of them stood still, their bows, from which they were never separated, dropping down from their hands. And when the Kuru army became insensible, Partha calling to mind the words of Uttara, addressed the son of the Matsya king, saying, 'O best of men, go thou among the Kurus, so long as they remain insensible, and bring away the white garments of Drona and Kripa, and the yellow and handsome ones of Karna, as also the blue ones of the king and Drona's son. Methinks, Bhishma is not stupefied, for he knoweth how to counteract this weapon of mine. So, pass thou on, keeping his steeds to thy left; for those that are sensible should thus be avoided.' Hearing these words, the illustrious son of Matsya, giving up the reins of the steeds, jumped down from the car and taking off the garments of the warriors, came back to his place. And the son of Virata then urged the four handsome steeds with flanks adorned with golden armours. And those white steeds, urged on, took Arjuna away from the midst of battle-field and beyond the array of the infantry bearing standards in their hands. And, Bhishma, beholding that best of men thus going away, struck him with arrows. And Partha, too, having slain Bhishma's steeds, pierced him with ten shafts. And abandoning Bhishma on the field of battle, having first slain his car-driver, Arjuna with a good-looking bow in hand came out of that multitude of cars, like the sun emerging from the clouds. And Dhritarashtra's son, that foremost of heroes among the Kurus, recovering his senses, saw the son of Pritha standing like the lord of the celestials, alone on the battle-field. And he said in hurry (unto Bhishma), 'How hath this one escape from thee? Do thou afflict him in such a way that he may not escape.' And at this, Santanu's son, smiling, said unto him, 'Where had been this sense of thine, and where had been thy prowess too, when thou hadst been in a state of unconsciousness renouncing thy arrows and handsome bow? Vibhatsu is not addicted to the commission of atrocious deeds; nor is his soul inclined to sin. He renounceth not his principles even for the sake of the three worlds. It is for this only that all of us have not been slain in this battle. O thou foremost of Kuru heroes, go back to the city of the Kurus, and let Partha also go away, having conquered the kine. Do thou never foolishly throw away thy own good. Indeed, that which leadeth to one's welfare ought to be accomplished.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having listened to the words of the grandsire that tended to his own welfare, the wrathful king Duryodhana no longer eager for battle, drew a deep sigh and became silent. And reflecting that the advice of Bhishma was beneficial and seeing that the Pandavas gaining in strength, the other warriors also, desirous of protecting Duryodhana, resolved to return. And beholding those foremost of Kuru heroes departing for their city, Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, with a cheerful heart followed them for a while, desirous of addressing and worshipping them. And having worshipped the aged grandsire--the son of Santanu, as also the preceptor Drona, and having saluted with beautiful arrows Drona's son and Kripa and other venerable ones among the Kurus, the son of Pritha broke into fragments Duryodhana's crown decked with precious gems, with another arrow. And having saluted all the venerable and brave warriors thus, he filled the three worlds with the twang of the _Gandiva_. And suddenly blowing his conch called _Devadatta_, the hero pierced the hearts of all his foes. And having humbled the hostile, he looked resplendent on his car decked with a handsome flag. And beholding the Kurus depart, Kiritin cheerfully said unto Matsya's son, 'Turn back thy steeds; thy kine have been recovered; the foe is going away and do thou also return to thy city with a cheerful heart.' And the celestials also, having witnessed that most wonderful encounter between Phalguna and the Kurus, were highly delighted, and went to their respective abodes, reflecting upon Partha's feats." SECTION LXVI Vaisampayana said, "Having vanquished the Kurus in battle, that one with eyes like those of a bull brought back that profuse cattle wealth of Virata. And while the Dhritarashtra, after their rout, were going away, a large number of Kuru-soldiers issuing out of the deep forest appeared with slow steps before Partha, their hearts afflicted with fear. And they stood before him with joined palms and with hair dishevelled. And fatigued with hunger and thirst, arrived in a foreign land, insensible with terror, and confused in mind, they all bowed down unto the son of Pritha and said,--_We are thy slaves_.' "Arjuna said, 'Welcome, blessed be ye. Go ye away. Ye have no cause of fear. I will not take the lives of them that are afflicted. Ye have my assurance of protection.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of assurance, the assembled warriors greeted him with benedictions in praise of his achievements and fame and wishing him long life. And the Kauravas were unable to confront Arjuna while after routing the foe he proceeded towards the city of Virata, like an elephant with rent temples. And having routed the whole army of the Kuru like a violent wind scattering the clouds, that slayer of foes, Partha, regardfully addressing the prince of Matsya, said, 'It is known to thee alone, O child, that the sons of Pritha are all living with thy father. Do not eulogise them upon entering the city, for then the king of the Matsyas may hide himself in fear. On the other hand, entering the city, do thou proclaim in the presence of thy father that the deed is thy own, saying,--_By me hath the army of the Kurus been vanquished and by me have the kine been recovered from the foe!_' "Uttara said, 'The feat thou hast achieved is beyond my power. I do not possess the ability to achieve it. I shall not, however, O Savyasachin, discover thee to my father, as long as thou wilt not tell me to do it.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having vanquished the hostile army and wrested the whole of the cattle wealth from the Kurus, Jishnu returned again to the cemetery and having approached the same _Sami_ tree stood there with body mangled by the arrows of the enemy. Then that terrible monkey blazing like fire ascended into the sky with those other creatures in the flag-staff. And the illusion created (by Viswakarma) melted away and Uttara's own banner bearing the device of a lion was set up on the car again. And having replaced the arrows and quivers of those foremost of the Kuru princes, and also that other weapon the _(Gandiva)_ which enhances the fierceness of a battle, the illustrious prince of Matsya set out for the city with a glad heart, having Kiritin as his charioteer. And having achieved an exceedingly mighty feat and slain the foe, Partha also, that slayer of foes, binding his hair into a braid as before, took the reins from Uttara's hands. And that illustrious hero entered the city of Virata, with a cheerful heart rehabilitating himself as Vrihannala, the car-driver of Uttara.'" Vaisampayana continued, "When all the Kauravas utterly routed and vanquished, set out in a dejected mood for Hastinapura, Phalguna, on his way back, addressed Uttara, saying, 'O prince, O hero of mighty arms, seeing the kine escorted in advance of us by the cowherds, we shall enter Virata's metropolis in the afternoon, having tended the steeds with drink and a bath. Let the cowherds, despatched by thee, speedily repair to the city with the good news and proclaim thy victory.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Agreeable to Arjuna's words, Uttara speedily ordered the messengers, saying, 'Go ye and proclaim the king's victory. The foe hath been routed, and the kine have been recovered.' And the Matsya and the Bharata princes having thus consulted together re-approached the same _Sami_ tree. And gratified with the victory they had won, and arrived at the foot of the _Sami_ tree, they wore on their persons and took up on their car the ornaments and robes they had left there. And having vanquished the whole hostile army and recovered the whole of the wealth from the Kurus, the heroic son of Virata returned to the city with Vrihannala as his car-driver." SECTION LXVII Vaisampayana said, "Having speedily recovered his wealth Virata owning a large army entered his city with a cheerful heart, accompanied by the four Pandavas. And having vanquished the _Trigartas_ in battle and recovered all the kine, that mighty monarch, along with the sons of Pritha, looked resplendent and blazed forth in beauty. And as the brave king, that enhancer of the joys of friends, was seated on his throne, all his subjects headed by the Brahmanas stood before him. And worshipped by them, the king of the Matsyas, at the head of his army, saluted the Brahmanas and his subjects in return and dismissed them cheerfully. And Virata, the king of the Matsyas owning a large army, enquired after Uttara, saying, 'Where hath Uttara gone?' And the women and the maidens of the palace and the other females living in the inner apartments joyfully said unto him, 'Our kine having been seized by the Kurus, Bhuminjaya incensed at this and from excess of bravery hath issued forth alone with only Vrihannala as his second, for vanquishing the six mighty car-warriors, Bhishma the son of Santanu, and Kripa, and Karna, and Duryodhana, and Drona, and Drona's son who have all come with the Kuru army.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then king Virata, hearing that his brave son had gone forth with only one car and with Vrihannala as his car-driver, became filled with grief, and addressing his chief counsellors, said, 'Without doubt, the Kauravas and other lords of earth, learning the defeat of the Trigartas, will never keep their ground. Therefore, let those of my warriors that have not been wounded by the _Trigartas_ go out, accompanied by a mighty force, for the protection of Uttara.' And saying this, the king speedily despatched, for the sake of his son, horses and elephants and cars and a large number of foot-soldiers, equipped and decked with various kinds of weapons and ornaments. And it was thus that Virata, the king of the Matsyas, owning a large army, quickly ordered out a large division consisting of four kinds of troops. And having done this, he said, 'Learn ye, without loss of time whether the prince liveth still or not! I myself think that he who hath got a person of the neuter sex for his car-driver is not alive.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then king Yudhishthira the just, smilingly said unto the afflicted king Virata, 'If, O monarch, Vrihannala hath been his charioteer, the foe will never be able to take away thy kine today. Protected by that charioteer, thy son will be able to vanquish in battle all the lords of earth allied with the Kurus, indeed, even the gods and the _Asuras_ and the _Siddhas_ and the _Yakshas_ together.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Meanwhile, the swift-footed messengers despatched by Uttara, having reached Virata's city, gave tidings of the victory. And the minister-in-chief then informed the king of everything, viz., the great victory that had been won, the defeat of the Kurus, and the expected arrival of Uttara. And he said, 'All the kine have been brought back, the Kurus have been defeated, and Uttara, that slayer of foes, is well with his car-driver.' Then Yudhishthira said, 'By good luck it is that the kine have been recovered and the Kurus routed. I do not, however, regard it strange that thy son should have vanquished the Kurus, for his victory is assured that hath Vrihannala for his charioteer.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing of the victory of his son possessed of immeasurable might, king Virata became so glad that the bristles of his body stood erect. And having made presents of raiments unto the messengers, he ordered his ministers, saying, 'Let the highways be decorated with flags, and let all the gods and goddesses be worshipped with flowery offerings. And let princes and brave warriors, and musicians and harlots decked in ornaments, march out to receive my son. And let the bellman, speedily riding an intoxicated elephant, proclaim my victory at places where four roads meet. And let Uttara, too, in gorgeous attire and surrounded by virgins and chanters of eulogies, go forth to receive my son.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having listened to these words of the king, all the citizens with auspicious things in hand, and many amongst them with cymbals and trumpets and conchs, and beautiful women attired in gorgeous robes, and reciters of auspicious and sacred hymns, accompanied by encomiasts and minstrels, and drummers and other kinds of musicians issued forth from the city of the mighty Virata to welcome Uttara of immeasurable prowess. And having despatched troops and maidens and courtesans decked in ornaments, the wise king of the Matsyas cheerfully said these words, '_O Sairindhri_, fetch the dice. And, O Kanka, let the play commence.' The son of Pandu replied, saying, 'We have heard it said that one whose heart is filled with joy should not play with a cunning gambler. I do not therefore, dare gamble with thee that are so transported with joy. I am ever desirous of doing what is for thy good. Let the play, however, commence if it pleases thee.' "Virata said, 'My female slaves and kine, my gold and whatsoever other wealth I have, nothing of all this shall thou be able to protect today even if I do not gamble.' Kanka said in reply, 'O monarch, O bestower of honours, what business hast thou with gamble which is attended with numerous evils? Gambling is fraught with many evils; it should, therefore, be shunned. Thou mayst have seen or at least heard of Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu. He lost his extensive and prosperous kingdom and his god-like brothers at dice. For this, I am averse to gambling. But if thou likest, O king, I will play.'" Vaisampayana continued, "While the play was going on, Matsya said unto the son of Pandu, 'Lo, the Kauravas that are so formidable have been vanquished in battle by my son.' Upon this, the illustrious king Yudhishthira said, 'Why should not he conquer that hath Vrihannala for his charioteer?' "Thus addressed, King Matsya became angry and said unto Pandu's son, 'Thou wretch of a Brahmana, dost thou compare one of the neuter sex with my son! Hast thou no knowledge of what is proper and what improper for one to say? Without doubt, thou disregardest me. Why should not my son vanquish all those with Bhishma and Drona as their leaders? O Brahmana, for friendship only I pardon thee this thy offence. Thou must not, however, say so again if thou wishest to live.' "Yudhishthira said, 'There where Bhishma and Drona and Drona's son and the son of Vikartana and Kripa and king Duryodhana and other royal and mighty car-warriors are assembled or there where Indra himself is surrounded by the Maruts, what other person than Vrihannala can fight, encountering them all! None hath been, none will be, his equal in strength of arms! Indeed, it is Vrihannala only whose heart is filled with joy at sight of a terrible conflict. It is he who had vanquished the celestials and the _Asuras_ and human beings fighting together. With such a one for his ally, why should not thy son conquer the foe?' Virata said, 'Repeatedly forbidden by me, thou dost not yet restrain thy tongue. If there is none to punish, no one would practise virtue.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Saying this, the king inflamed with anger forcibly struck Yudhishthira in the face with a dice, and reproached him angrily, saying, 'Let it not occur again!' And having been violently struck, blood began to flow from his nose. But the son of Pritha held it in his hands before it fell on the ground. And the virtuous Yudhishthira then glanced at Draupadi who was standing by his side. Ever obedient to the wishes of her lord, the faultless Draupadi, understanding his meaning, and bringing a golden vessel filled with water, received the blood that flowed from his nose. Meanwhile, Uttara, entertained with sweet perfumes of diverse kinds and decked with floral chaplets, slowly entered the city, received with respect by the citizens, the women, and the people of the provinces. And approaching the gate of the palace he sent the news of his arrival to his father. And the porter then, approaching the king, said, 'Thy son Uttara, waiteth at the gate with Vrihannala as his companion.' And the Matsya king, with a cheerful heart, said unto him, 'Do thou usher both, as I am very anxious to see them.' Then Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, gently whispered unto the ears of the warder, 'Let Uttara enter alone; Vrihannala must not come in. Such is the vow of that hero of mighty arms that whoever causeth a wound on my person or sheddeth my blood except in battle, shall not live. Inflamed with rage he will never bear patiently to see me bleeding, but will slay Virata even now with his counsellors and troops and steeds.'" SECTION LXVIII Vaisampayana said, "Then Bhuminjaya, the eldest son of the king, entered, and having worshipped the feet of his father approached Kanka. And he beheld Kanka covered with blood, and seated on the ground at one end of the court, and waited upon by the _Sairindhri_. And seeing this, Uttara asked his father in a hurry, saying, 'By whom, O king, hath this one been struck? By whom hath this sinful act been perpetrated?' "Virata said, 'This crooked Brahmana hath been struck by me. He deserveth even more than this. When I was praising thee, he praised that person of the third sex.' "Uttara said, 'Thou hast, O king, committed an improper act. Do thou speedily propitiate him so that the virulent poison of a Brahmana's curse may not consume thee to thy roots!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having heard the words of his son, Virata, that enhancer of the limits of his kingdom, began to soothe Kunti's son, who was like unto a fire hid in ashes, for obtaining his forgiveness. And unto the king desirous of obtaining his pardon the Pandava replied, 'O king, I have long ago forgiven it. Anger I have none. Had this blood from my nostrils fallen on the ground, then, without doubt, thou, O monarch, wouldst have been destroyed with thy kingdom. I do not, however, blame thee, O king, for having struck an innocent person. For, O king, they that are powerful generally act with unreasoning severity.'" Vaisampayana continued, "When the bleeding had stopped, Vrihannala entered (the council-room) and having saluted both Virata and Kanka, stood silent. And the king, having appeased the chief of the Kurus, began to praise, in Savyasachin's hearing, Uttara who had returned from the battle. And the king said, 'O enhancer of the joys of Kekaya's princess, in thee have I truly a son! I never had nor shall have, a son that is equal to thee! How, indeed, couldst thou, O child, encounter that Karna who leaveth not a single mark unhit amongst even a thousand that he may aim at all at once? How couldst thou, O child, encounter that Bhishma who hath no equal in the whole world of men? How also couldst thou, O child, encounter Drona, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, that preceptor of the Vrishnis and Kauravas, twice-born one who may be regarded as the preceptor of all the Kshatriyas? How couldst thou meet in battle the celebrated Aswatthaman? How couldst thou, O child, encounter that Duryodhana, the prince who is capable of piercing even a mountain with his mighty arrows? My foes have all been thrashed. A delicious breeze seems to blow around me. And since thou hast recovered in battle the whole of my wealth that had been seized by the Kurus, it seems that all those mighty warriors were struck with panic. Without doubt, thou, O bull amongst men, has routed the foe and snatched away from them my wealth of kine, like his prey from a tiger.'" SECTION LXIX "Uttara said, 'The kine have not been recovered by me, nor have the foe been vanquished by me. All that hath been accomplished by the son of a deity. Capable of striking like a thunderbolt, that youth of celestial origin, beholding me running away in fear, stopped me and himself mounted on my car. It was by him that the kine have been recovered and the Kauravas vanquished. The deed, O father, is that hero's and not mine. It was he that repulsed with arrows Kripa and Drona and Drona's son of powerful energy, and the _Suta's_ son and Bhishma. That mighty hero then spoke unto the affrighted prince Duryodhana who was running away like the leader of a head of elephants, these words, "O prince of the Kuru race, I do not see that thou art safe by any means even at Hastinapura. Protect thy life by putting forth thy might. Thou shalt not escape me by flight. Therefore, make up thy mind for fight. If victorious, the sovereignty of the earth will be thine, or if slain, heaven itself will be thine." "'Thus addressed, king Duryodhana--that tiger among men surrounded by his counsellors,--sighing on his car like a snake turned back, showered arrows endued with the speed and force of thunderbolts. Beholding all this, venerable sire, my thighs began to quake. Then that celestial youth pierced with arrows the Kuru army consisting of leonine warriors. And having pierced and afflicted that crowd of cars, that youth, stout as the lion, laughed at them and robbed them of their clothes and attires. Indeed, the six great car-warriors of the Kurus were vanquished by that hero alone, even like herds of animals ranging in the forest by a single tiger in rage.' "Virata said, 'Where is that mighty-armed and famous youth of celestial origin, that hero who recovered in battle my wealth that had been seized by the Kurus? I am anxious to behold and worship that mighty warrior of celestial origin who hath saved thee and my kine also.' "Uttara replied, 'The mighty son of a deity disappeared there and then. I think, however, that he will show himself either tomorrow or the day after.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Virata, that owner of a large army, remained ignorant of the son of Pandu who was thus described unto him by Uttara, and who was living in the palace in disguise. And permitted by the high-souled Virata, Partha presented with his own hands the garments he had brought, unto Virata's daughter. And the beautiful Uttara, obtaining those new and costly clothes of diverse kinds, became highly glad, along with the son of the Matsya king." SECTION LXX Vaisampayana said, "Then, on the third day, attired in white robes after a bath, and decked in ornaments of all kinds, those great car-warriors, the five Pandava brothers, having accomplished their vow, and with Yudhishthira at their head, looked resplendent as they entered the palace-gate like five intoxicated elephants. And having entered the council-hall of Virata, they took their seats on the thrones reserved for kings, and shone brilliantly like fires on the sacrificial altar. And after Pandavas had taken their seats, Virata, that lord of earth, came there for holding his council and discharging other royal offices. And beholding the illustrious Pandavas blazing like fires, the king reflected for a moment. And then, filled with wrath, the Matsya king spoke unto Kanka seated there like a celestial and looking like the lord of celestials surrounded by the Martus. And he said, 'A player at dice thou wert employed by me as a courtier! How couldst thou occupy the royal seat thus attired in handsome robes and ornaments?'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Virata, O king, and desirous of jesting with him, Arjuna smilingly said in reply, 'This person, O king, deserveth to occupy the same seat with Indra himself. Devoted to the Brahmanas, acquainted with the _Vedas_, indifferent to luxury and carnal enjoyments, habitually performing sacrifices, steady in vows, this one, indeed, is the very embodiment of virtue. The foremost of all Persons endued with energy and superior to every body on earth in intelligence, devoted to asceticism, he is conversant with various weapons. No other person among the mobile and immobile creatures of the three worlds possesseth or will ever possess such knowledge of weapons. And there is none even amongst the gods, or _Asuras_, or men, or _Rakshasas_, or _Gandharvas_, or _Yaksha_ chiefs, or _Kinnaras_--or mighty _Uragas_, who is like him. Endued with great foresight and energy, beloved by the citizens and inhabitants of the provinces, he is the mightiest of car-warriors amongst the sons of Pandu. A performer of sacrifices, devoted to morality, and of subdued passions, like unto a great _Rishi_, this royal sage is celebrated over all the worlds. Possessed of great strength and great intelligence, able and truthful, he hath all his senses under complete control. Equal unto Indra in wealth and Kuvera in hoarding, he is the protector of the worlds like unto _Manu_ himself of mighty prowess. Endued with great might, he is even such. Kind unto all creatures he is no other than the bull of the Kuru race, king Yudhishthira the just. The achievements of this king resemble the sun himself of blazing effulgence. And his fame hath travelled in all directions like the rays of that luminary. And like the rays following the risen sun of blazing effulgence, ten thousand swift elephants followed him, O king, when he dwelt among the Kurus. And, O king, thirty thousand cars decked in gold and drawn by the best steeds, also used to follow him then. And full eight hundred bards adorned with ear-rings set with shining gems, and accompanied by minstrels, recited his praises in those days, like the _Rishis_ adorning Indra. And, O king, the Kauravas and other lords of earth always waited upon him like slaves, as the celestials upon Kuvera. This eminent king, resembling the bright-rayed sun, made all lords of earth pay tribute unto him like persons of the agricultural class. And eighty-eight thousands of high-souled _Snatakas_ depended for their subsistence upon this king practising excellent vows. This illustrious lord protected the aged and the helpless, the maimed and the blind, as his sons, and he ruled over his subjects virtuously. Steady in morality and self-control, capable of restraining his anger, bountiful, devoted to the Brahmanas, and truthful, this one is the son of Pandu. The prosperity and prowess of this one afflict king Suyodhana with his followers including Karna and Suvala's son. And, O lord of men, the virtues of this one are incapable of being enumerated. This son of Pandu is devoted to morality and always abstains from injury. Possessed of such attributes, doth not this bull among kings, this son of Pandu, deserve, O monarch, to occupy a royal seat?'" SECTION LXXI "Virata said, 'If this one, indeed, be the Kuru king Yudhishthira the son of Kunti, which amongst these is his brother Arjuna, and which, the mighty Bhima. Which of these is Nakula, and which Sahadeva and where is the celebrated Draupadi? After their defeat at dice, the sons of Pritha have not been heard of by any one.' "Arjuna said, 'Even this one, O king, who is called Vallava and is thy cook, is that Bhima of mighty arms and terrible prowess and furious impetus. It was he who slew the furious _Rakshasas_ on the mountains of _Gandhamadana_, and procured for Krishna celestial flowers of great fragrance. Even he is that _Gandharva_, who slew the Kichaka of wicked soul and it was he who killed tigers and bears and boars in the inner apartment of thy palace. He who had been the keeper of thy horse is that slayer of foes called Nakula, and this one is Sahadeva, the keeper of thy kine. Both these sons of Madri are great car-warriors, possessed of great fame and beauty of person. These two bulls of the Bharata race, attired in handsome robes and decked in excellent ornaments, are a match for a thousand great car-warriors. And even this lady of eyes like lotus-petals and slender waist and sweet smiles is Drupada's daughter, thy wife's _Sairindhri_, for whose sake, O king, the Kichakas were slain. I am, O king, Arjuna who, it is evident, thou hast heard, is that son of Pritha, who is Bhima's junior and the senior of the twins! We have, O king, happily passed in thy abode the period of non-discovery, like infants in the womb!'" Vaisampayana continued, "After Arjuna had pointed out those heroes--the five Pandavas, the son of Virata then spoke of Arjuna's prowess. And Uttara once again identified the sons of Pritha. And the prince said, 'That one whose complexion is bright like that of pure gold, who is stout like a full-grown lion, whose nose is so prominent, whose eyes are large and expansive, and whose face is broad and of coppery hue, is the king of the Kurus. And behold, that one whose tread is like that of an infuriate elephant, whose complexion is like that of heated gold, whose shoulders are broad and expanded, and whose arms are long and thick, is Vrikodara. And he who stands by his side, that youth of darkish hue, who is like unto a leader of a herd of elephants, whose shoulders are broad like those of a lion, whose tread is like that of a mighty elephant, and whose eyes are large and expansive like lotus-leaves, is Arjuna that foremost of bowmen. All lo, close to the king, are those foremost of men, the twins, like unto Vishnu and Indra, and who have no equals, in the world of men, in beauty, might, and behaviour. And close by them, behold, standeth Krishna, beautiful as gold, like unto the very embodiment of light, possessing the complexion of the blue lotus, like unto a celestial damsel, and resembling the living embodiment of _Lakshmi_ herself.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then Virata's son began to describe the prowess of Arjuna, saying, 'Even this one is he that slew the foe, like unto a lion devastating a flock of deer. Even he ranged through crowds of hostile cars, slaying their best of car-warriors. By him was slain a huge, infuriate elephant by means of a single arrow. Pierced by him, that huge beast having its flanks adorned with an armour of gold, fell down piercing the earth with his tusks. By him have the kine been recovered and the Kauravas vanquished in battle. My ears have been deafened by the blare of his conch. It was by this hero of fierce deeds that Bhishma and Drona, along with Duryodhana, were vanquished. That achievement is his and not mine.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of his, the mighty king of the Matsyas, considering himself guilty of having offended Yudhishthira, said unto Uttara in reply, 'I think the time hath come for me to propitiate the sons of Pandu. And, if thou likest, I shall bestow my daughter Uttara upon Arjuna.' "Uttara said, 'Worthy of our adorations and worship and respect, the time hath come for worshipping the illustrious sons of Pandu who deserve to be worshipped by us.' "Virata said, 'When brought under the foe's subjection in battle, it was Bhimasena that rescued me. My kine also have been recovered by Arjuna. It is through the might of their arms that we have obtained victory in battle. Such being the case, all of us, with our counsellors, shall propitiate Yudhishthira the son of Kunti. Blessed be thou, with all thy brothers, O bull among the sons of Pandu. If, O king, we have ever said or done anything in ignorance to offend thee, it behoveth thee to forgive us. The son of Pandu is virtuous.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then the high-souled Virata, delighted greatly, approached king Yudhishthira and made an alliance with him, and offered him his whole kingdom together with the sceptre and treasury and metropolis. And addressing all the Pandavas, and especially Dhananjaya, the mighty king of the Matsyas repeatedly said, 'By good luck it is that I see you.' And having again and again embraced Yudhishthira and Bhima and the sons of Madri, and smelt their heads, Virata, that owner of a large army, was not satiated with gazing at them. And being highly pleased, he said unto king Yudhishthira, 'By good luck it is that I see you safe from woods. By good luck it is that ye have accomplished with difficulty the period of exile, undiscovered by those wicked wights. I make over my entire kingdom to the sons of Pritha, and what else I have. Let the sons of Pandu accept these without the slightest hesitation. And let Dhananjaya, called also Savyasachin, accept the hand of Uttara: for that best of men is fit to be her lord.' Thus addressed, king Yudhishthira the just cast a look upon Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha. And looked at by his brother, Arjuna said unto the Matsya king, 'O monarch, I accept thy daughter as my daughter-in-law. And alliance of this kind between the Matsya and the Bharatas is, indeed, desirable.'" SECTION LXXII "Virata said, 'Why, O best among the Pandavas, dost thou not wish to accept as wife this my daughter that I bestow upon thee?' "Arjuna said, 'Residing in thy inner apartments, I had occasion always to behold thy daughter, and she too, alone or in company trusted me as her father. Well-versed in singing and dancing, I was liked and regarded by her, and, indeed, thy daughter always regardeth me as her protector. O king, I lived for one whole year with her though she had attained the age of puberty. Under these circumstances, thyself or other men may not without reason, entertain suspicions against her or me. Therefore, O king, myself who am pure, and have my senses under control, beg to thee, O monarch, thy daughter as my daughter-in-law. Thus do I attest her purity. There is no difference between a daughter-in-law and a daughter, as also between a son and son's own-self. By adopting this course, therefore, her purity will be proved. I am afraid of slanderous and false accusations. I accept, therefore, O king, thy daughter Uttara as my daughter-in-law. Surpassing all in knowledge of weapons, resembling a celestial youth in beauty, my son, the mighty-armed Abhimanyu is the favourite nephew of Vasudeva, the wielder of the discus. He, O king, is fit to be thy son-in-law and the husband of thy daughter.' "Virata said, 'It behoveth the best of the Kurus, Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, who is so virtuous and wise, to say this. O son of Pritha, do thou carry out what thou thinkest should be done after this. He that hath Arjuna for the father of his son-in-law, hath all his desires gratified.'" Vaisampayana continued, "The monarch having said this, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, gave his assent to what was thus agreed upon between the Matsya king and Arjuna. And, O Bharata, the son of Kunti sent invitations to Vasudeva and to all his friends and relatives, and Virata also did the same. And then, after the expiry of the thirteenth year, the five Pandavas took up their abode in one of Virata's towns called _Upaplavya_, and Vibhatsu, the son of Pandu, brought over Abhimanyu and Janardana, and also many people of the Dasarha race from the Anarta country. And the king of Kasi, and also Saivya, being very friendly to Yudhishthira, arrived there, each accompanied by an _Akshauhini_ of troops. And the mighty Drupada, also with the heroic sons of Draupadi and the unvanquished Sikhandin, and that foremost of wielder of weapons, the invincible Dhrishtadyumna came there with another _Akshauhini_ of troops. And all the kings that came were not only lords of _Akshauhini_, but performers of sacrifices with gifts in profusion to Brahmanas, conversant with the _Vedas_ endued with heroism, and ready to die in battle. And beholding them arrived, that foremost of virtuous men, the king of the Matsyas, adored them duly, and entertained their troops and servants and carriers of burdens. And he was highly pleased to bestow his daughter upon Abhimanyu. And after the kings had come there from different parts of the country, there came Vasudeva decked in floral garlands, and Halayudha, and Kritavarman, the son of Hridika, and Yuyudhana, the son of Satyaki, and Anadhristi and Akrura, and Samva and Nisatha. And these repressers of foes came there bringing with them Abhimanyu and his mother. And Indrasena and others, having lived at Dwaraka for one whole year, came there, bringing with them the well adorned cars of the Pandavas. And there came also ten thousand elephants and ten thousand cars, and hundred millions of horses and hundred billions of foot-soldiers, and innumerable Vrishni and Andhaka and Bhoja warriors of great energy, in the train of that tiger among the Vrishnis, Vasudeva of great effulgence. And Krishna gave unto each of the illustrious sons of Pandu numerous female slaves, and gems and robes. And then the nuptial festival set in between the families of the Matsya king and the Pandavas. And then conchs and cymbals and horns and drums and other musical instruments appointed by the Pandavas, began to play in the palace of Virata. And deer of various kinds and clean animals by hundreds were slain. And wines of various kinds and intoxicating juices of trees were profusely collected. And mimes and bards and encomiasts, versed in singing and legendary lore, waited upon the kings, and chanted their praises and genealogies. And the matrons of the Matsyas of symmetrical bodies and limbs, and wearing ear-rings of pearls and gems, headed by Sudeshna, came to the place where the marriage knot was to be tied. And amongst those beautiful females of fair complexion and excellent ornaments, Krishna was the foremost in beauty and fame and splendour. And they all came there, leading forth the princess Uttara decked in every ornament and resembling the daughter of the great Indra himself. And then Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, accepted Virata's daughter of faultless limbs on behalf of his son by Subhadra. And that great king, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, who stood there like Indra, also accepted her as his daughter-in-law. And having accepted her, the son of Pritha, with Janardana before him, caused the nuptial ceremonies to be performed of the illustrious son of Subhadra. And Virata then gave him (as dowry) seven thousand steeds endued with the speed of the wind and two hundred elephants of the best kind and much wealth also. And having duly poured libations of clarified butter on the blazing fire, and paid homage unto the twice-born ones, Virata offered to the Pandavas his kingdom, army, treasury, and his own self. And after the marriage had taken place, Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, gave away unto the Brahmanas all the wealth that had been brought by Krishna of unfading glory. And he also gave away thousands of kine, and diverse kinds of robes, and various excellent ornaments, and vehicles, and beds, delicious viands of various kinds, and cardinal drinks of diverse species. And the king also made gifts of land unto the Brahmanas with due rites, and also cattle by thousands. And he also gave away thousands of steeds and much gold and much wealth of other kinds, unto persons of all ages. And, O bull of the Bharata race, the city of the Matsya king, thronged with men cheerful and well-fed, shone brightly like a great festival." _The end of Virata Parva._ 
17455	----	Proofreaders Europe at http://dp.rastko.net (This book was produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) THE POISON TREE A Tale of Hindu Life in Bengal BY BANKIM CHANDRA CHATTERJEE TRANSLATED BY MIRIAM S. KNIGHT WITH A PREFACE BY EDWIN ARNOLD, C.S.I. London T. FISHER UNWIN 26 PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1884 PREFACE I had been asked by the accomplished lady who has translated the subjoined story to introduce it with a few words of comment to the English public. For that purpose I commenced the perusal of the proof sheets; but soon found that what was begun as a literary task became a real and singular pleasure, by reason of the author's vivid narrative, his skill in delineating character, and, beyond all, the striking and faithful pictures of Indian life with which his tale is filled. Nor do these qualities suffer, beyond what is always inevitable, in the transfer of the novel from its original Bengali to English. Five years ago, Sir William Herschel, of the Bengal Civil Service, had the intention of translating this _Bisha Briksha_; but surrendered the task, with the author's full consent, to Mrs. Knight, who has here performed it with very remarkable skill and success. To accomplish that, more was wanted than a competent knowledge of the language of the original and a fluent command of English: it was necessary to be familiar with the details of native life and manners, and to have a sufficient acquaintance with the religious, domestic, and social customs of Bengali homes. Possessing these, Mrs. Knight has now presented us with a modern Hindu novelette, smoothly readable throughout, perfectly well transferred from its vernacular (with such omissions as were necessary), and valuable, as I venture to affirm, to English readers as well from its skill in construction and intrinsic interest as for the light which it sheds upon the indoor existence of well-to-do Hindus, and the excellent specimen which it furnishes of the sort of indigenous literature happily growing popular in their cities and towns. The author of "The Poison Tree" is Babu Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, a native gentleman of Bengal, of superior intellectual acquisitions, who ranks unquestionably as the first living writer of fiction in his Presidency. His renown is widespread among native readers, who recognize the truthfulness and power of his descriptions, and are especially fond of "Krishna Kanta's Will," "Mrinalini," and this very story of the _Bisha Briksha_, which belongs to modern days in India, and to the new ideas which are spreading--not always quite happily--among the families of the land. Allowance being made for the loss which an original author cannot but sustain by the transfer of his style and method into another language and system of thought, it will be confessed, I think, that the reputation of "Bankim Babu" is well deserved, and that Bengal has here produced a writer of true genius, whose vivacious invention, dramatic force, and purity of aim, promise well for the new age of Indian vernacular literature. It would be wrong to diminish the pleasure of the English reader by analysing the narrative and forestalling its plot. That which appears to me most striking and valuable in the book is the faithful view it gives of the gentleness and devotion of the average Hindu wife. Western people are wont to think that because marriages are arranged at an early age in India, and without the betrothed pair having the slightest share in the mutual choice, that wedded love of a sincere sort must be out of the question, and conjugal happiness very rare. The contrary is notably the case. Human nature is, somehow, so full of accidental harmonies, that a majority among the households thus constituted furnish examples of quiet felicity, established constancy, and, above all, of a devotedness on the part of the Hindu women to their husbands and children, which knows, so to speak, no limit. The self-sacrifice of Surja Mukhi in this tale would be next to impossible for any Western woman, but is positively common in the East, though our author so well displays the undoubted fact that feminine hearts are the same everywhere, and that custom cannot change the instincts of love. In Debendra the Babu paints successfully the "young Bengalee" of the present day, corrupted rather than elevated by his educational enlightenment. Nagendra is a good type of the ordinary well-to-do householder; Kunda Nandini, of the simple and graceful Hindu maiden; and Hira, of those passionate natures often concealed under the dark glances and regular features of the women of the Ganges Valley. In a word, I am glad to recommend this translation to English readers, as a work which, apart from its charm in incident and narrative, will certainly give them just, if not complete, ideas of the ways of life of their fellow-subjects in Bengal. EDWIN ARNOLD, C.S.I. LONDON, _September_ 10, 1884. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. NAGENDRA'S JOURNEY BY BOAT CHAPTER II. "COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE" CHAPTER III. OF MANY SUBJECTS CHAPTER IV. TARA CHARAN CHAPTER V. OH! LOTUS-EYED, WHO ART THOU? CHAPTER VI. THE READER HAS CAUSE FOR GREAT DISPLEASURE CHAPTER VII. HARIDASI BOISNAVI CHAPTER VIII. THE BABU CHAPTER IX. SURJA MUKHI'S LETTER CHAPTER X. THE SPROUT CHAPTER XI. CAUGHT AT LAST CHAPTER XII. HIRA CHAPTER XIII. NO! CHAPTER XIV. LIKE TO LIKE CHAPTER XV. THE FORLORN ONE CHAPTER XVI. HIRA'S ENVY CHAPTER XVII. HIRA'S QUARREL. THE BUD OF THE POISON TREE CHAPTER XVIII. THE CAGED BIRD CHAPTER XIX. DESCENT CHAPTER XX. GOOD NEWS CHAPTER XXI. SURJA MUKHI AND KAMAL MANI CHAPTER XXII. WHAT IS THE POISON TREE? CHAPTER XXIII. THE SEARCH CHAPTER XXIV. EVERY SORT OF HAPPINESS IS FLEETING CHAPTER XXV. THE FRUIT OF THE POISON TREE CHAPTER XXVI. THE SIGNS OF LOVE CHAPTER XXVII. BY THE ROADSIDE CHAPTER XXVIII. IS THERE HOPE? CHAPTER XXIX. HIRA'S POISON TREE HAS BLOSSOMED CHAPTER XXX. NEWS OF SURJA MUKHI CHAPTER XXXI. THOUGH ALL ELSE DIES, SUFFERING DIES NOT CHAPTER XXXII. THE FRUIT OF HIRA'S POISON TREE CHAPTER XXXIII. HIRA'S GRANDMOTHER CHAPTER XXXIV. A DARK HOUSE: A DARK LIFE CHAPTER XXXV. THE RETURN CHAPTER XXXVI. EXPLANATION CHAPTER XXXVII. THE SIMPLETON AND THE SERPENT CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE CATASTROPHE CHAPTER XXXIX. KUNDA'S TONGUE IS LOOSENED CHAPTER XL. THE END GLOSSARY OF HINDU WORDS For the assistance of the reader, the names of the principal characters in the tale are given-- NAGENDRA NATHA DATTA _A wealthy Zemindar_. SURJA MUKHI _His wife_. DEBENDRA DATTA _Cousin to Nagendra_. SRISH CHANDRA MITTRA _Accountant in a Merchant's Office_ KAMAL MANI _His wife, sister to Nagendra_. SATISH _Their baby boy_. TARA CHARAN _Adopted brother of Surja Mukhi_. KUNDA NANDINI _An Orphan Girl_. HIRA _Servant in Nagendra's household_. CHAPTER I. NAGENDRA'S JOURNEY BY BOAT. Nagendra Natha Datta is about to travel by boat. It is the month _Joisto_ (May--June), the time of storms. His wife, Surja Mukhi, had adjured him, saying, "Be careful; if a storm arises be sure you fasten the boat to the shore. Do not remain in the boat." Nagendra had consented to this, otherwise Surja Mukhi would not have permitted him to leave home; and unless he went to Calcutta his suits in the Courts would not prosper. Nagendra Natha was a young man, about thirty years of age, a wealthy _zemindar_ (landholder) in Zillah Govindpur. He dwelt in a small village which we shall call Haripur. He was travelling in his own boat. The first day or two passed without obstacle. The river flowed smoothly on--leaped, danced, cried out, restless, unending, playful. On shore, herdsmen were grazing their oxen--one sitting under a tree singing, another smoking, some fighting, others eating. Inland, husbandmen were driving the plough, beating the oxen, lavishing abuse upon them, in which the owner shared. The wives of the husbandmen, bearing vessels of water, some carrying a torn quilt, or a dirty mat, wearing a silver amulet round the neck, a ring in the nose, bracelets of brass on the arm, with unwashed garments, their skins blacker than ink, their hair unkempt, formed a chattering crowd. Among them one beauty was rubbing her head with mud, another beating a child, a third speaking with a neighbour in abuse of some nameless person, a fourth beating clothes on a plank. Further on, ladies from respectable villages adorned the _gháts_ (landing-steps) with their appearance--the elders conversing, the middle-aged worshipping _Siva_, the younger covering their faces and plunging into the water; the boys and girls screaming, playing with mud, stealing the flowers offered in worship, swimming, throwing water over every one, sometimes stepping up to a lady, snatching away the image of _Siva_ from her, and running off with it. The Brahmans, good tranquil men, recited the praises of _Ganga_ (the sacred river Ganges) and performed their worship, sometimes, as they wiped their streaming hair, casting glances at the younger women. In the sky, the white clouds float in the heated air. Below them fly the birds, like black dots. In the cocoanut trees, kites, like ministers of state, look around to see on what they can pounce; the cranes, being only small fry, stand raking in the mud; the _dahuk_ (coloured herons), merry creatures, dive in the water; other birds of a lighter kind merely fly about. Market-boats sail along at good speed on their own behalf; ferry-boats creep along at elephantine pace to serve the needs of others only: cargo boats make no progress at all--that is the owners' concern. On the third day of Nagendra's journey clouds arose and gradually covered the sky. The river became black, the tree-tops drooped, the paddy birds flew aloft, the water became motionless. Nagendra ordered the _manji_ (boatman) to run the boat in shore and make it fast. At that moment the steersman, Rahamat Mullah, was saying his prayers, so he made no answer. Rahamat knew nothing of his business. His mother's father's sister was the daughter of a boatman; on that plea he had become a hanger-on of boatmen, and accident favoured his wishes; but he learned nothing, his work was done as fate willed. Rahamat was not backward in speech, and when his prayers were ended he turned to the Babu and said, "Do not be alarmed, sir, there is no cause for fear." Rahamat was thus brave because the shore was close at hand, and could be reached without delay, and in a few minutes the boat was secured. Surely the gods must have had a quarrel with Rahamat Mullah, for a great storm came up quickly. First came the wind; then the wind, having wrestled for some moments with the boughs of the trees, called to its brother the rain, and the two began a fine game. Brother Rain, mounting on brother Wind's shoulders, flew along. The two together, seizing the tree-tops, bent them down, broke the boughs, tore off the creepers, washed away the flowers, cast up the river in great waves, and made a general tumult. One brother flew off with Rahamat Mullah's head-gear; the other made a fountain of his beard. The boatmen lowered the sail, the Babu closed the windows, and the servants put the furniture under shelter. Nagendra was in a great strait. If, in fear of the storm, he should leave the boat, the men would think him a coward; if he remained he would break his word to Surja Mukhi. Some may ask, What harm if he did? We know not, but Nagendra thought it harm. At this moment Rahamat Mullah said, "Sir, the rope is old; I do not know what may happen. The storm has much increased; it will be well to leave the boat." Accordingly Nagendra got out. No one can stand on the river bank without shelter in a heavy storm of rain. There was no sign of abatement; therefore Nagendra, thinking it necessary to seek for shelter, set out to walk to the village, which was at some distance from the river, through miry paths. Presently the rain ceased, the wind abated slightly, but the sky was still thickly covered with clouds; therefore both wind and rain might be expected at night. Nagendra went on, not turning back. Though it was early in the evening, there was thick darkness, because of the clouds. There was no sign of village, house, plain, road, or river; but the trees, being surrounded by myriads of fireflies, looked like artificial trees studded with diamonds. The lightning goddess also still sent quick flashes through the now silent black and white clouds. A woman's anger does not die away suddenly. The assembled frogs, rejoicing in the newly fallen rain, held high festival; and if you listened attentively the voice of the cricket might be heard, like the undying crackle of Ravana's[1] funeral pyre. Amid the sounds might be distinguished the fall of the rain-drops on the leaves of the trees, and that of the leaves into the pools beneath; the noise of jackals' feet on the wet paths, occasionally that of the birds on the trees shaking the water from their drenched feathers, and now and then the moaning of the almost subdued wind. Presently Nagendra saw a light in the distance. Traversing the flooded earth, drenched by the drippings from the trees, and frightening away the jackals, he approached the light; and on nearing it with much difficulty, saw that it proceeded from an old brick-built house, the door of which was open. Leaving his servant outside, Nagendra entered the house, which he found in a frightful condition. [Footnote 1: King of Lanka (Ceylon), whose remains were to burn without ceasing.] It was not quite an ordinary house, but it had no sign of prosperity. The door-frames were broken and dirty; there was no trace of human occupation--only owls, mice, reptiles, and insects gathered there. The light came only from one side. Nagendra saw some articles of furniture for human use; but everything indicated poverty. One or two cooking vessels, a broken oven, three or four brass dishes--these were the sole ornaments of the place. The walls were black; spiders' webs hung in the corners; cockroaches, spiders, lizards, and mice, scampered about everywhere. On a dilapidated bedstead lay an old man who seemed to be at death's door; his eyes were sunk, his breath hurried, his lips trembling. By the side of his bed stood an earthen lamp upon a fragment of brick taken from the ruins of the house. In it the oil was deficient; so also was it in the body of the man. Another lamp shone by the bedside--a girl of faultlessly fair face, of soft, starry beauty. Whether because the light from the oil-less lamp was dim, or because the two occupants of the house were absorbed in thinking of their approaching separation, Nagendra's entrance was unseen. Standing in the doorway, he heard the last sorrowful words that issued from the mouth of the old man. These two, the old man and the young girl, were friendless in this densely-peopled world. Once they had had wealth, relatives, men and maid servants--abundance of all kinds; but by the fickleness of fortune, one after another, all had gone. The mother of the family, seeing the faces of her son and daughter daily fading like the dew-drenched lotus from the pinch of poverty, had early sunk upon the bed of death. All the other stars had been extinguished with that moon. The support of the race, the jewel of his mother's eye, the hope of his father's age, even he had been laid on the pyre before his father's eyes. No one remained save the old man and this enchanting girl. They dwelt in this ruined, deserted house in the midst of the forest. Each was to the other the only helper. Kunda Nandini was of marriageable age; but she was the staff of her father's blindness, his only bond to this world. While he lived he could give her up to no one. "There are but a few more days; if I give away Kunda where can I abide?" were the old man's thoughts when the question of giving her in marriage arose in his mind. Had it never occurred to him to ask himself what would become of Kunda when his summons came? Now the messenger of death stood at his bedside; he was about to leave the world; where would Kunda be on the morrow? The deep, indescribable suffering of this thought expressed itself in every failing breath. Tears streamed from his eyes, ever restlessly closing and opening, while at his head sat the thirteen-year-old girl, like a stone figure, firmly looking into her father's face, covered with the shadows of death. Forgetting herself, forgetting to think where she would go on the morrow, she gazed only on the face of her departing parent. Gradually the old man's utterance became obscure, the breath left the throat, the eyes lost their light, the suffering soul obtained release from pain. In that dark place, by that glimmering lamp, the solitary Kunda Nandini, drawing her father's dead body on to her lap, remained sitting. The night was extremely dark; even now rain-drops fell, the leaves of the trees rustled, the wind moaned, the windows of the ruined house flapped noisily. In the house, the fitful light of the lamp flickered momentarily on the face of the dead, and again left it in darkness. The lamp had long been exhausted of oil; now, after two or three flashes, it went out. Then Nagendra, with noiseless steps, went forth from the doorway. CHAPTER II. "COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE." It was night. In the ruined house Kunda Nandini sat by her father's corpse. She called "Father!" No one made reply. At one moment Kunda thought her father slept, again that he was dead, but she could not bring that thought clearly into her mind. At length she could no longer call, no longer think. The fan still moved in her hand in the direction where her father's once living body now lay dead. At length she resolved that he slept, for if he were dead what would become of her? After days and nights of watching amid such sorrow, sleep fell upon her. In that exposed, bitterly cold house, the palm-leaf fan in her hand, Kunda Nandini rested her head upon her arm, more beauteous than the lotus-stalk, and slept; and in her sleep she saw a vision. It seemed as if the night were bright and clear, the sky of a pure blue--that glorious blue when the moon is encircled by a halo. Kunda had never seen the halo so large as it seemed in her vision. The light was splendid, and refreshing to the eyes. But in the midst of that magnificent halo there was no moon; in its place Kunda saw the figure of a goddess of unparalleled brilliance. It seemed as if this brilliant goddess-ruled halo left the upper sky and descended gradually lower, throwing out a thousand rays of light, until it stood over Kunda's head. Then she saw that the central beauty, crowned with golden hair, and decked with jewels, had the form of a woman. The beautiful, compassionate face had a loving smile upon its lips. Kunda recognized, with mingled joy and fear, in this compassionate being the features of her long-dead mother. The shining, loving being, raising Kunda from the earth, took her into her bosom, and the orphan girl could for a long period do nought but utter the sweet word "Mother!" Then the shining figure, kissing Kunda's face, said to her: "Child, thou hast suffered much, and I know thou hast yet more to suffer; thou so young, thy tender frame cannot endure such sorrow. Therefore abide not here; leave the earth and come with me." Kunda seemed to reply: "Whither shall I go?" Then the mother, with uplifted finger indicating the shining constellations, answered, "There!" Kunda seemed, in her dream, to gaze into the timeless, shoreless ocean of stars, and to say, "I have no strength; I cannot go so far." Hearing this, the mother's kind and cheerful but somewhat grave face saddened, her brows knitted a little, as she said in grave, sweet tones: "Child, follow thy own will, but it would be well for thee to go with me. The day will come when thou wilt gaze upon the stars, and long bitterly to go thither. I will once more appear to thee; when, bowed to the dust with affliction, thou rememberest me, and weepest to come to me, I will return. Then do thou come. But now do thou, looking on the horizon, follow the design of my finger. I will show thee two human figures. These two beings are in this world the arbiters of thy destiny. If possible, when thou meetest them turn away as from venomous snakes. In their paths walk thou not." Then the shining figure pointed to the opposite sky. Kunda, following the indication, saw traced on the blue vault the figure of a man more beautiful than a god. Beholding his high, capacious forehead, his sincere kindly glance, his swan-like neck a little bent, and other traits of a fine man, no one would have believed that from him there was anything to be feared. Then the figure dissolving as a cloud in the sky, the mother said-- "Forget not this god-like form. Though benevolent, he will be the cause of thy misery; therefore avoid him as a snake." Again pointing to the heavens she continued-- "Look hither." Kunda, looking, saw a second figure sketched before her, not this time that of a man, but a young woman of bright complexion and lotus-shaped eyes. At this sight she felt no fear; but the mother said-- "This dark figure in a woman's dress is a _Rakshasi_.[2] When thou seest her, flee from her." [Footnote 2: A female demon.] As she thus spoke the heavens suddenly became dark, the halo disappeared from the sky, and with it the bright figure in its midst. Then Kunda awoke from her sleep. Nagendra went to the village, the name of which he heard was Jhunjhunpur. At his recommendation and expense, some of the villagers performed the necessary rites for the dead, one of the female neighbours remaining with the bereaved girl. When Kunda saw that they had taken her father away, she became convinced of his death, and gave way to ceaseless weeping. In the morning the neighbour returned to her own house, but sent her daughter Champa to comfort Kunda Nandini. Champa was of the same age as Kunda, and her friend. She strove to divert her mind by talking of various matters, but she saw that Kunda did not attend. She wept constantly, looking up every now and then into the sky as though in expectation. Champa jestingly asked, "What do you see that you look into the sky a hundred times?" Kunda replied, "My mother appeared to me yesterday, and bade me go with her, but I feared to do so; now I mourn that I did not. If she came again I would go: therefore I look constantly into the sky." Champa said, "How can the dead return?" To which Kunda replied by relating her vision. Greatly astonished, Champa asked, "Are you acquainted with the man and woman whose forms you saw in the sky?" "No, I had never seen them. There cannot be anywhere a man so handsome; I never saw such beauty." On rising in the morning, Nagendra inquired of the people in the village what would become of the dead man's daughter, where she would live, and whether she had any relatives. He was told that there was no dwelling-place for her, and that she had no relatives. Then Nagendra said, "Will not some of you receive her and give her in marriage? I will pay the expense, and so long as she remains amongst you I will pay so much a month for her board and lodging." If he had offered ready money many would have consented to his proposal; but after he had gone away Kunda would have been reduced to servitude, or turned out of the house. Nagendra did not act in so foolish a manner; therefore, money not being forthcoming, no one consented to his suggestion. At length one, seeing him at the end of his resources, observed: "A sister of her mother's lives at Sham Bazar; Binod Ghosh is the husband's name. You are on you way to Calcutta; if you take her with you and place her with her aunt, then this _Kaystha_ girl will be cared for, and you will have done your duty to your caste." Seeing no other plan, Nagendra adopted this suggestion, and sent for Kunda to acquaint her with the arrangement. Champa accompanied Kunda. As they were coming, Kunda, seeing Nagendra from afar, suddenly stood still like one stunned. Her feet refused to move; she stood looking at him with eyes full of astonishment. Champa asked, "Why do you stand thus?" Kunda, pointing with her finger, said, "It is he!" "He! Who?" said Champa. "He whom last night my mother pictured in the heavens." Then Champa also stood frightened and astonished. Seeing that the girls shrank from approaching, Nagendra came near and explained everything. Kunda was unable to reply; she could only gaze with eyes full of surprise. CHAPTER III. OF MANY SUBJECTS. Reluctantly did Nagendra Natha take Kunda with him to Calcutta. On arriving there he made much search for her aunt's husband, but he found no one in Sham Bazar named Binod Ghosh. He found a Binod Das, who admitted no relationship. Thus Kunda remained as a burthen upon Nagendra. Nagendra had one sister, younger than himself, named Kamal Mani, whose father-in-law's house was in Calcutta. Her husband's name was Srish Chandra Mittra. Srish Babu was accountant in the house of Plunder, Fairly, and Co. It was a great house, and Srish Chandra was wealthy. He was much attached to his brother-in-law. Nagendra took Kunda Nandini thither, and imparted her story to Kamal Mani. Kamal was about eighteen years of age. In features she resembled Nagendra; both brother and sister were very handsome. But, in addition to her beauty, Kamal was famed for her learning. Nagendra's father, engaging an English teacher, had had Kamal Mani and Surja Mukhi well instructed. Kamal's mother-in-law was living, but she dwelt in Srish Chandra's ancestral home. In Calcutta Kamal Mani was house-mistress. When he had finished the story of Kunda Nandini, Nagendra said, "Unless you will keep her here, there is no place for her. Later, when I return home, I will take her to Govindpur with me." Kamal was very mischievous. When Nagendra had turned away, she snatched up Kunda in her arms and ran off with her. A tub of not very hot water stood in an adjoining room, and suddenly Kamal threw Kunda into it. Kunda was quite frightened. Then Kamal, laughing, took some scented soap and proceeded to wash Kunda. An attendant, seeing Kamal thus employed, bustled up, saying, "I will do it! I will do it!" but Kamal, sprinkling some of the hot water over the woman, sent her running away. Kamal having bathed and rubbed Kunda, she appeared like a dew-washed lotus. Then Kamal, having robed her in a beautiful white garment, dressed her hair with scented oil, and decorated her with ornaments, said to her: "Now go and salute the _Dada Babu_ (elder brother), and return, but mind you do not thus to the master of the house: if he should see you he will want to marry you." Nagendra Natha wrote Kunda's history to Surja Mukhi. Also when writing to an intimate friend of his living at a distance, named Hara Deb Ghosal, he spoke of Kunda in the following terms: "Tell me what you consider to be the age of beauty in woman. You will say after forty, because your Brahmini is a year or two more than that. The girl Kunda, whose history I have given you, is thirteen. On looking at her, it seems as if that were the age of beauty. The sweetness and simplicity that precede the budding-time of youth are never seen afterwards. This Kunda's simplicity is astonishing; she understands nothing. To-day she even wished to run into the streets to play with the boys. On being forbidden, she was much frightened, and desisted. Kamal is teaching her, and says she shows much aptitude in learning, but she does not understand other things. For instance, her large blue eyes--eyes swimming ever like the autumn lotus in clear water--these two eyes may be fixed upon my face, but they say nothing. I lose my senses gazing on them; I cannot explain better. You will laugh at this history of my mental stability; but if I could place you in front of those eyes, I should see what your firmness is worth. Up to this time I have been unable to determine what those eyes are like. I have not seen them look twice the same; I think there are no other such eyes in the world, they seem as if they scarcely saw the things of earth, but were ever seeking something in space. It is not that Kunda is faultlessly beautiful. Her features, if compared with those of many others, would not be highly praised; yet I think I never saw such rare beauty. It is as if there were in Kunda Nandini something not of this world, as though she were not made of flesh and blood, but of moonbeams and the scent of flowers. Nothing presents itself to my mind at this moment to which to liken her. Incomparable being! her whole person seems to breathe peace. If in some clear pool you have observed the sheen produced by the rays of the autumn moon, you have seen something resembling her. I can think of no other simile." Surja Mukhi's reply to Nagendra's letter came in a few days. It was after this manner: "I know not what fault your servant has committed. If it is necessary you should stay so long in Calcutta, why am I not with you to attend upon you? This is my earnest wish; the moment I receive your consent, I will set out. "In picking up a little girl, have you forgotten me? Many unripe things are esteemed. People like green guavas, and green cucumbers; green cocoa-nuts are cooling. This low-born female is also, I think, very young, else in meeting with her why should you forget me? Joking apart, have you given up all right over this girl? if not, I beg her from you. It is my business to arrange for her. In whatever becomes yours I have the right to share, but in this case I see your sister has entire possession. Still, I shall not vex myself much if Kamal usurps my rights. "Do you ask what do I want with the girl? I wish to give her in marriage with Tara Charan. You know how much I have sought for a suitable wife for him. If Providence has sent us a good girl, do not disappoint me. If Kamal will give her up, bring Kunda Nandini with you when you come. I have written to Kamal also recommending this. I am having ornaments fashioned, and am making other preparations for the marriage. Do not linger in Calcutta. Is it not true that if a man stays six months in that city he becomes quite stupid? If you design to marry Kunda, bring her with you, and I will give her to you. Only say that you propose to marry her, and I will arrange the marriage-basket." Who Tara Charan was will be explained later. Whoever he was, both Nagendra and Kamal Mani consented to Surja Mukhi's proposal. Therefore it was resolved that when Nagendra went home Kunda Nandini should accompany him. Every one consented with delight, and Kamal also prepared some ornaments. How blind is man to the future! Some years later there came a day when Nagendra and Kamal Mani bowed to the dust, and, striking their foreheads in grief, murmured: "In how evil a moment did we find Kunda Nandini! in how evil an hour did we agree to Surja Mukhi's letter!" Now Kamal Mani, Surja Mukhi, and Nagendra, together have sowed the poison seed; later they will all repent it with wailing. Causing his boat to be got ready, Nagendra returned to Govindpur with Kunda Nandini. Kunda had almost forgotten her dream; while journeying with Nagendra it recurred to her memory, but thinking of his benevolent face and kindly character, Kunda could not believe that any harm would come to her from him. In like manner there are many insects who, seeing a destructive flame, enter therein. CHAPTER IV. TARA CHARAN. The Poet Kalidas was supplied with flowers by a _Malini_ (flower-girl). He, being a poor Brahmin, could not pay for the flowers, but in place of that he used to read some of his own verses to the _Malini_. One day there bloomed in the _Malini's_ tank a lily of unparalleled beauty. Plucking it, the _Malini_ offered it to Kalidas. As a reward the poet read to her some verses from the _Megha Duta_ (Cloud Messenger). That poem is an ocean of wit, but every one knows that its opening lines are tasteless. The _Malini_ did not relish them, and being annoyed she rose to go. The poet asked: "Oh! friend _Malini_, are you going?" "Your verses have no flavour," replied the _Malini_. "_Malini_! you will never reach heaven." "Why so?" "There is a staircase to heaven. By ascending millions of steps heaven is reached. My poem has also a staircase; these tasteless verses are the steps. If you can't climb these few steps, how will you ascend the heavenly ladder?" The _Malini_ then, in fear of losing heaven through the Brahmin's curse, listened to the _Megha Duta_ from beginning to end. She admired the poem; and next day, binding a wreath of flowers in the name of Cupid, she crowned the poet's temples therewith. This ordinary poem of mine is not heaven; neither has it a staircase of a million steps. Its flavour is faint and the steps are few. These few tasteless chapters are the staircase. If among my readers there is one of the _Malini's_ disposition, I warn him that without climbing these steps he will not arrive at the pith of the story. Surja Mukhi's father's house was in Konnagar. Her father was a _Kaystha_ of good position. He was cashier in some house at Calcutta. Surja Mukhi was his only child. In her infancy a _Kaystha_ widow named Srimati lived in her father's house as a servant, and looked after Surja Mukhi. Srimati had one child named Tara Charan, of the same age as Surja Mukhi. With him Surja Mukhi had played, and on account of this childish association she felt towards him the affection of a sister. Srimati was a beautiful woman, and therefore soon fell into trouble. A wealthy man of the village, of evil character, having cast his eyes upon her, she forsook the house of Surja Mukhi's father. Whither she went no one exactly knew, but she did not return. Tara Charan, forsaken by his mother, remained in the house of Surja Mukhi's father, who was a very kind-hearted man, and brought up this deserted boy as his own child; not keeping him in slavery as an unpaid servant, but having him taught to read and write. Tara Charan learned English at a free mission-school. Afterwards Surja Mukhi was married, and some years later her father died. By this time Tara Charan had learned English after a clumsy fashion, but he was not qualified for any business. Rendered homeless by the death of Surja Mukhi's father, he went to her house. At her instigation Nagendra opened a school in the village, and Tara Charan was appointed master. Nowadays, by means of the grant-in-aid system in many villages, sleek-haired, song-singing, harmless Master Babus appear; but at that time such a being as a Master Babu was scarcely to be seen. Consequently, Tara Charan appeared as one of the village gods; especially as it was known in the bazaar that he had read the _Citizen of the World_, the _Spectator_, and three books of _Euclid_. On account of these gifts he was received into the _Brahmo Samaj_ of Debendra Babu, the zemindar of Debipur, and reckoned as one of that Babu's retinue. Tara Charan wrote many essays on widow-marriage, on the education of women, and against idol-worship; read them weekly in the _Samaj_, and delivered many discourses beginning with "Oh, most merciful God!" Some of these he took from the _Tattwa Bodhini_,[3] and some he caused to be written for him by the school _pandit_. He was forever preaching: "Abandon idol-worship, give choice in marriage, give women education; why do you keep them shut up in a cage? let women come out." There was a special cause for this liberality on the subject of women, inasmuch as in his own house there was no woman. Up to this time he had not married. Surja Mukhi had made great efforts to get him married, but as his mother's story was known in Govindpur, no respectable _Kaystha_ consented to give him his daughter. Many a common, disreputable _Kaystha_ girl he might have had; but Surja Mukhi, regarding Tara Charan as a brother, would not give her consent, since she did not choose to call such a girl sister-in-law. While she was seeking for a respectable _Kaystha_ girl, Nagendra's letter came, describing Kunda Nandini's gifts and beauty. She resolved to give her to Tara Charan in marriage. [Footnote 3: A religious periodical published in Calcutta.] CHAPTER V. OH! LOTUS-EYED, WHO ART THOU? Kunda arrived safely with Nagendra at Govindpur. At the sight of Nagendra's dwelling she became speechless with wonder, for she had never seen one so grand. There were three divisions without and three within. Each division was a large city. The outer _mahal_ (division) was entered by an iron gate, and was surrounded on all sides by a handsome lofty iron railing. From the gate a broad, red, well-metalled path extended, on each side of which were beds of fresh grass that would have formed a paradise for cows. In the midst of each plat was a circle of shrubs, all blooming with variously coloured flowers. In front rose the lofty demi-upper-roomed _boita khana_ (reception-hall), approached by a broad flight of steps, the verandah of which was supported by massive fluted pillars. The floor of the lower part of this house was of marble. Above the parapet, in its centre, an enormous clay lion, with dependent mane, hung out its red tongue. This was Nagendra's _boita khana_. To left and right of the grass plats stood a row of one-storied buildings, containing on one side the _daftar khana_ (accountant's office) and _kacheri_ (court-house); on the other the storehouse, treasury, and servants' dwellings. On both sides of the gate were the doorkeepers' lodges. This first _mahal_ was named the _kacheri bari_ (house of business); the next to it was the _puja mahal_ (division for worship). The large hall of worship formed one side of the _puja mahal_; on the other three sides were two-storied houses. No one lived in this _mahal_. At the festival of Durga it was thronged; but now grass sprouted between the tiles of the court, pigeons frequented the halls, the houses were full of furniture, and the doors were kept locked. Beside this was the _thakur bari_ (room assigned to the family deity): in it on one side was the temple of the gods, the handsome stone-built dancing-hall; on the remaining sides, the kitchen for the gods, the dwelling-rooms of the priests, and a guest-house. In this _mahal_ there was no lack of people. The tribe of priests, with garlands on their necks and sandal-wood marks on their foreheads; a troop of cooks; people bearing baskets of flowers for the altars; some bathing the gods, some ringing bells, chattering, pounding sandal-wood, cooking; men and women servants bearing water, cleaning floors, washing rice, quarrelling with the cooks. In the guest-house an ascetic, with ash-smeared, loose hair, is lying sleeping; one with upraised arm (stiffened thus through years) is distributing drugs and charms to the servants of the house; a white-bearded, red-robed _Brahmachari_, swinging his chaplet of beads, is reading from a manuscript copy of the _Bhagavat-gita_ in the _Nagari_ character; holy mendicants are quarrelling for their share of _ghi_ and flour. Here a company of emaciated _Boiragis_, with wreaths of _tulsi_ (a sacred plant) round their necks and the marks of their religion painted on their foreheads, the bead fastened into the knot of hair on their heads shaking with each movement, are beating the drums as they sing: "I could not get the opportunity to speak, The elder brother Dolai was with me." The wives of the _Boiragis_, their hair braided in a manner pleasing to their husbands, are singing the tune of _Govinda Adhi Kari_ to the accompaniment of the tambourine. Young _Boisnavis_ singing with elder women of the same class, the middle-aged trying to bring their voices into unison with those of the old. In the midst of the court-yard idle boys fighting, and abusing each other's parents. These three were the outer _mahals_. Behind these came the three inner ones. The inner _mahal_ behind the _kacheri bari_ was for Nagendra's private use. In that only himself, his wife, and their personal attendants were allowed; also the furniture for their use. This place was new, built by Nagendra himself, and very well arranged. Next to it, and behind the _puja bari_, came another _mahal_; this was old, ill-built, the rooms low, small, and dirty. Here was a whole city-full of female relations, mother's sister and mother's cousin, father's sister and cousin; mother's widowed sister, mother's married sister; father's sister's son's wife, mother's sister's son's daughter. All these female relatives cawing day and night like a set of crows in a banian tree; at every moment screams, laughter, quarrelling, bad reasoning, gossip, reproach, the scuffling of boys, the crying of girls. "Bring water!" "Give the clothes!" "Cook the rice!" "The child does not eat!" "Where is the milk?" etc., is heard as an ocean of confused sounds. Next to it, behind the _Thakur bari_, was the cook-house. Here a woman, having placed the rice-pot on the fire, gathering up her feet, sits gossiping with her neighbour on the details of her son's marriage. Another, endeavouring to light a fire with green wood, her eyes smarting with the smoke, is abusing the _gomashta_ (factor), and producing abundant proof that he has supplied this wet wood to pocket part of the price. Another beauty, throwing fish into the hot oil, closes her eyes and twists her ten fingers, making a grimace, for oil leaping forth has burnt her skin. One having bathed her long hair, plentifully besmeared with oil, braiding it in a curve on the temples and fastening it in a knot on the top of her head, stirs the pulse cooking in an earthen pot, like Krishna prodding the cows with a stick. Here Bami, Kaymi, Gopal's mother, Nipal's mother, are shredding with a big knife vegetable pumpkins, brinjals, the sound of the cutting steel mingling with abuse of the neighbours, of the masters, of everybody: that Golapi has become a widow very young; that Chandi's husband is a great drunkard; that Koylash's husband has secured a fine appointment as writer to the _Darogah_; that there could not be in the world such a flying journey as that of Gopal, nor such a wicked child as Parvati's; how the English must be of the race of _Ravan_ (the ten-headed king of Ceylon); how _Bhagirati_ had brought _Ganga_; how Sham Biswas was the lover of the daughter of the Bhattacharjyas; with many other subjects. A dark, stout-bodied woman, placing a large _bonti_ (a fish-cutter) on a heap of ashes in the court, is cutting fish; the kites, frightened at her gigantic size and her quick-handedness, keeping away, yet now and again darting forward to peck at the fish. Here a white-haired woman is bringing water; there one with powerful hand is grinding spices. Here, in the storehouse, a servant, a cook, and the store-keeper are quarrelling together; the store-keeper maintaining, "The _ghi_ (clarified butter) I have given is the right quantity;" the cook disputing it; the servant saying, "We could manage with the quantity you give if you left the storehouse unlocked." In the hope of receiving doles of rice, many children and beggars with their dogs are sitting waiting. The cats do not flatter any one; they watch their opportunity, steal in, and help themselves. Here a cow without an owner is feasting with closed eyes upon the husks of pumpkins, other vegetables, and fruit. Behind these three inner _mahals_ is the flower-garden; and further yet a broad tank, blue as the sky. This tank is walled in. The inner house (the women's) has three divisions, and in the flower-garden is a private path, and at each end of the path two doors; these doors are private, they give entrance to the three _mahals_ of the inner house. Outside the house are the stables, the elephant-house, the kennels, the cow-house, the aviaries, etc. Kunda Nandini, full of astonishment at Nagendra's unbounded wealth, was borne in a palanquin to the inner apartments, where she saluted Surja Mukhi, who received her with a blessing. Having recognized in Nagendra the likeness of the man she had seen in her dream, Kunda Nandini doubted whether his wife would not resemble the female figure she had seen later; but the sight of Surja Mukhi removed this doubt. Surja Mukhi was of a warm, golden colour, like the full moon; the figure in the dream was dark. Surja Mukhi's eyes were beautiful, but not like those in the dream. They were long deer-eyes, extending to the side hair; the eye-brows joined in a beautiful curve over the dilated, densely black pupils, full but steady. The eyes of the dark woman in the dream were not so enchanting. Then Surja Mukhi's features were not similar. The dream figure was dwarfish; Surja Mukhi rather tall, her figure swaying with the beauty of the honeysuckle creeper. The dream figure was beautiful, but Surja Mukhi was a hundredfold more so. The dream figure was not more than twenty years of age; Surja Mukhi was nearly twenty-six. Kunda saw clearly that there was no resemblance between the two. Surja Mukhi conversed pleasantly with Kunda, and summoned the attendants, to the chief among whom she said, "This is Kunda with whom I shall give Tara Charan in marriage; therefore see that you treat her as my brother's wife." The servant expressed her assent, and took Kunda aside with her to another place. At sight of her Kunda's flesh crept; a cold moisture came over her from head to foot. The female figure which Kunda in her dream had seen her mother's fingers trace upon the heavens, this servant was that lotus-eyed, dark-complexioned woman. Kunda, agitated with fear, breathing with difficulty, asked, "Who are you?" The servant answered, "My name is Hira." CHAPTER VI. THE READER HAS CAUSE FOR GREAT DISPLEASURE. At this point the reader will be much annoyed. It is a custom with novelists to conclude with a wedding, but we are about to begin with the marriage of Kunda Nandini. By another custom that has existed from ancient times, whoever shall marry the heroine must be extremely handsome, adorned with all virtues, himself a hero, and devoted to his mistress. Poor Tara Charan possessed no such advantages; his beauty consisted in a copper-tinted complexion and a snub nose; his heroism found exercise only in the schoolroom; and as for his love, I cannot say how much he had for Kunda Nandini, but he had some for a pet monkey. However that may be, soon after Kunda Nandini's arrival at the house of Nagendra she was married to Tara Charan. Tara Charan took home his beautiful wife; but in marrying a beautiful wife he brought himself into a difficulty. The reader will remember that Tara Charan had delivered some essays in the house of Debendra Babu on the subjects of women's education and the opening of the zenana. In the discussions that ensued, the Master Babu had said vauntingly: "Should the opportunity ever be given me, I will be the first to set an example of reform in these matters. Should I marry, I will bring my wife out into society." Now he was married, and the fame of Kunda's beauty had spread through the district. All the neighbours now, quoting an old song, said, "Where now is his pledge?" Debendra said, "What, are you now also in the troop of old fools? Why do you not introduce us to your wife?" Tara Charan was covered with shame; he could not escape from Debendra's banter and taunts. He consented to allow Debendra to make the acquaintance of his wife. Then fear arose lest Surja Mukhi should be displeased. A year passed in evasion and procrastination; when, seeing that this could be carried on no longer, he made an excuse that his house was in need of repair, and sent Kunda Nandini to Nagendra's house. When the repairs of the house were completed, Kunda Nandini returned home. A few days after, Debendra, with some of his friends, called upon Tara Charan, and jeered him for his false boasting. Driven thus, as it were, into a corner, Tara Charan persuaded Kunda Nandini to dress in suitable style, and brought her forth to converse with Debendra Babu. How could she do so? She remained standing veiled before him for a few seconds, then fled weeping. But Debendra was enchanted with her youthful grace and beauty. He never forgot it. Soon after that, some kind of festival was held in Debendra's house, and a little girl was sent thence to Kunda to invite her attendance. But Surja Mukhi hearing of this, forbade her to accept the invitation, and she did not go. Later, Debendra again going to Tara Charan's house, had an interview with Kunda. Surja Mukhi hearing of this through others, gave to Tara Charan such a scolding, that from that time Debendra's visits were stopped. In this manner three years passed after the marriage; then Kunda Nandini became a widow. Tara Charan died of fever. Surja Mukhi took Kunda to live with her, and selling the house she had given to Tara Charan, gave the proceeds in Government paper to Kunda. The reader is no doubt much displeased, but in fact the tale is only begun. Of the poison tree the seed only has thus far been sown. CHAPTER VII. HARIDASI BOISNAVI. The widow Kunda Nandini passed some time in Nagendra's house. One afternoon the whole household of ladies were sitting together in the other division of the house, all occupied according to their tastes in the simple employment of village women. All ages were there, from the youngest girl to the grey-haired woman. One was binding another's hair, the other suffering it to be bound; one submitting to have her white hairs extracted, another extracting them by the aid of a grain of rice; one beauty sewing together shreds of cloth into a quilt for her boy, another suckling her child; one lovely being dressing the plaits of her hair; another beating her child, who now cried aloud, now quietly sobbed, by turns. Here one is sewing carpet-work, another leaning over it in admiring examination. There one of artistic taste, thinking of some one's marriage, is drawing a design on the wooden seats to be used by the bridal pair. One learned lady is reading Dasu Rai's poetry. An old woman is delighting the ears of her neighbours with complaints of her son; a humorous young one, in a voice half bursting with laughter, relates in the ears of her companions whose husbands are absent some jocose story of her husband's, to beguile the pain of separation. Some are reproaching the _Grihini_ (house-mistress), some the _Korta_ (master), some the neighbours; some reciting their own praises. She who may have received a gentle scolding in the morning from Surja Mukhi on account of her stupidity, is bringing forward many examples of her remarkable acuteness of understanding. She in whose cooking the flavours can never be depended upon, is dilating at great length upon her proficiency in the art. She whose husband is proverbial in the village for his ignorance, is astounding her companions by her praises of his superhuman learning. She whose children are dark and repulsive-looking, is pluming herself on having given birth to jewels of beauty. Surja Mukhi was not of the company. She was a little proud, and did not sit much with these people; if she came amongst them her presence was a restraint upon the enjoyment of the rest. All feared her somewhat, and were reserved towards her. Kunda Nandini associated with them; she was amongst them now, teaching a little boy his letters at his mother's request. During the lesson the pupil's eyes were fixed upon the sweetmeat in another child's hand, consequently his progress was not great. At this moment there appeared amongst them a _Boisnavi_ (female mendicant), exclaiming, "_Jai Radhika!_"[4] (Victory to Radhika). [Footnote 4: Wife of Krishna.] A constant stream of guests was served in Nagendra's _Thakur bari_, and every Sunday quantities of rice were distributed in the same place, but neither _Boisnavis_ nor others were allowed to come to the women's apartments to beg; accordingly, on hearing the cry "_Jai Radha!_" in these forbidden precincts, one of the inmates exclaimed: "What, woman! do you venture to intrude here? go to the _Thakur bari_." But even as she spoke, turning to look at the _Boisnavi_, she could not finish her speech, but said instead: "Oh, ma, what _Boisnavi_ are you?" Looking up, all saw with astonishment that the _Boisnavi_ was young and of exceeding beauty; in that group of beautiful women there was none, excepting Kunda Nandini, so beautiful as she. Her trembling lips, well-formed nose, large lotus-eyes, pencilled brows, smooth, well-shaped forehead, arms like the lotus-stalk, and complexion like the _champak_ flower, were rare among women. But had there been present any critic of loveliness, he would have said there was a want of sweetness in her beauty, while in her walk and in her movements there was a masculine character. The _sandal_ mark[5] on the _Boisnavi's_ nose was long and fine, her hair was braided, she wore a _sari_ with a coloured border, and carried a small tambourine in her hand. She wore brass bracelets, and over them others made of black glass. [Footnote 5: The caste mark, made with sandal-wood powder.] One of the elder women addressed her saying, "Who are you?" The _Boisnavi_ replied, "My name is Haridasi. Will the ladies like a song?" The cry, "Yes, yes! sing!" sounded on all sides from old and young. Raising her tambourine, the _Boisnavi_ seated herself near the ladies, where Kunda was teaching the little boy. Kunda was very fond of music; on hearing that the _Boisnavi_ would sing she came nearer. Her pupil seized the opportunity to snatch the sweetmeat from the other child's hand, and eat it himself. The _Boisnavi_ asking what she should sing, the listeners gave a number of different orders. One called for the strains of _Govinda Adhikari_, another _Gopale Ure_. She who was reading Dasu Rai's poem desired to have it sung. Two or three asked for the old stories about Krishna; they were divided as to whether they would hear about the companions or about the separation. Some wanted to hear of his herding the cows in his youth. One shameless girl called out, "If you do not sing such and such a passage I will not listen." One mere child, by way of teaching the _Boisnavi_, sang some nonsensical syllables. The _Boisnavi_, listening to the different demands, gave a momentary glance at Kunda, saying: "Have you no commands to give?" Kunda, ashamed, bent her head smiling, but did not speak aloud; she whispered in the ear of a companion, "Mention some hymn." The companion said, "Kunda desires that you will sing a hymn." The _Boisnavi_ then began a hymn. Kunda, seeing that the _Boisnavi_ had neglected all other commands to obey hers, was much abashed. Haridasi, striking gently on her tambourine as if in sport, recited in a gentle voice some few notes like the murmuring of a bee in early spring, or a bashful bride's first loving speech to her husband. Then suddenly she produced from that insignificant tambourine, as though with the fingers of a powerful musician, sounds like the crashing of the clouds in thunder, making the frames of her hearers shrink within them as she sang in tones more melodious than those of the _Apsharas_ (celestial singing women). The ladies, astonished and enchanted, heard the _Boisnavi's_ unequalled voice filling the court with sound that ascended to the skies. What could secluded women understand of the method of that singing? An intelligent person would have comprehended that this perfect singing was not due to natural gifts alone. The _Boisnavi_, whoever she might be, had received a thorough scientific training in music, and, though young, she was very proficient. The _Boisnavi_, having finished her song, was urged by the ladies to sing again. Haridasi, looking with thirsty eyes at Kunda, sang the following song from Krishna's address to Radhika: THE BOISNAVI'S SONG. "To see thy beauteous lily face I come expectant to this place; Let me, oh Rai! thy feet embrace. To deprecate thy sullen ire, Therefore I come in strange attire; Revive me, Radha, kindness speak, Clasping thy feet my home I'd seek. Of thy fair form to catch a ray From door to door with flute I stray; When thy soft name it murmurs low Mine eyes with sudden tears o'erflow. If thou wilt not my pardon speak The banks of Jumna's stream I'll seek, Will break my flute and yield my life; Oh! cease thy wrath, and end the strife. The joys of Braj I've cast aside A slave before thy feet t' abide; Thine anklets round my neck I'll bind, In Jumna's stream I'll refuge find." The song over, the _Boisnavi_, looking at Kunda, said, "Singing has made me thirsty; give me some water." Kunda brought water in a vessel; but the _Boisnavi_ said, "I will not touch your vessel; come near and pour some water into my hands. I was not born a _Boisnavi_." By this she gave it to be understood that she was formerly of some unholy caste, and had since become a _Boisnavi_. In reply to her words, Kunda went behind her so as to pour the water into her hands. They were at such a distance from the rest that words spoken gently could not be heard by any of them. Kunda poured the water, and the _Boisnavi_ washed her hands and face. While thus engaged the latter murmured, "Are you not Kunda?" In astonishment Kunda replied, "Why do you ask?" "Have you ever seen your mother-in-law?" "No." Kunda had heard that her mother-in-law, having lost her good name, had left the place. Then said the _Boisnavi_: "Your mother-in-law is here now. She is in my house, and is crying bitterly to be allowed to see you for once. She dare not show her face to the mistress of this house. Why should you not go with me to see her? Notwithstanding her fault, she is still your mother-in-law." Although Kunda was simple, she understood quite well that she should not acknowledge any connection with such a relation. Therefore she merely shook her head at the _Boisnavi_'s words and refused her assent. But the _Boisnavi_ would not take a refusal; again she urged the matter. Kunda replied, "I cannot go without the _Grihini_'s permission." This Haridasi forbade. "You must not speak to the house-mistress, she will not let you go; it may be she will send for your _Sasuri_ (mother-in-law). In that case your mother-in-law would flee the country." The more the _Boisnavi_ insisted, the more Kunda refused to go without the _Grihini's_ permission. Haridasi having no other resource, said: "Very well, put the thing nicely to the _Grihini_; I will come another day and take you. Mind you put it prudently, and shed some tears also, else she will not consent." Even to this Kunda did not consent; she would not say either "yes" or "no." Haridasi, having finished purifying her face and hands, turned to the ladies and asked for contributions. At this moment Surja Mukhi came amongst them, the desultory talk ceased, and the younger women, all pretending some occupation, sat down. Surja Mukhi, examining the _Boisnavi_ from head to foot, inquired, "Who are you?" An aunt of Nagendra's explained: "She is a _Boisnavi_ who came to sing. I never heard such beautiful singing! Will you let her sing for you? Sing something about the goddesses." Haridasi, having sung a beautiful piece about Sham, Surja Mukhi, enchanted, dismissed her with a handsome present. The _Boisnavi_, making a profound salute, cast one more glance at Kunda and went away. Once out of the range of Surja Mukhi's eyes, she made a few gentle taps on the tambourine, singing softly-- "Ah, my darling! I'll give you honey to eat, golden robes to wear; I'll fill your flask with _attar_, And your jar with water of rose, Your box with spice prepared by my own hand." The _Boisnavi_ being gone, the women could talk of nothing else for some time. First they praised her highly, then began to point out her defects. Biraj said, "She is beautiful, but her nose is somewhat flat." Bama remarked, "Her complexion is too pale." Chandra Mukhi added, "Her hair is like tow." Kapal said, "Her forehead is too high." Kamala said, "Her lips are thick." Harani observed, "Her figure is very wooden." Pramada added, "The woman's bust is like that of a play actor, it has no grace." In this manner it soon appeared that the beautiful _Boisnavi_ was of unparalleled ugliness. Then Lalita said, "Whatever her looks may be, she sings beautifully." But even this was not admitted. Chandra Mukhi said the singing was coarse; Mukta Keshi confirmed this criticism. Ananga said, "The woman does not know any songs; she could not even give us one of Dasu Rai's songs." Kanak said, "She does not understand time." Thus it appeared that Haridasi _Boisnavi_ was not only extremely ugly, but that her singing was of the worst description. CHAPTER VIII. THE BABU. Haridasi _Boisnavi_, having left the house of the Datta family, went to Debipur. At this place there is a flower-garden surrounded by painted iron railings. It is well stocked with fruit trees and flowering shrubs. In the centre is a tank, upon the edge of which stands a garden-house. Entering a private room in this house, Haridasi threw off her dress. Suddenly that dense mass of hair fell from the head; the locks were borrowed. The bust also fell away; it was made of cloth. After putting on suitable apparel and removing the _Boisnavi_ garments, there stood forth a strikingly handsome young man of about five and twenty years of age. Having no hair on his face he looked quite a youth; in feature he was very handsome. This young man was Debendra Babu, of whom we have before had some slight knowledge. Debendra and Nagendra were sprung from the same family, but between the two branches there had been feud for successive generations, so that the members of the Debipur family were not on speaking terms with those of Govindpur. From generation to generation there had been lawsuits between the two houses. At length, in an important suit, the grandfather of Nagendra had defeated the grandfather of Debendra, and since that time the Debipur family had been powerless. All their money was swallowed up in law expenses, and the Govindpur house had bought up all their estates. From that time the position of the Debipur family had declined, that of the other increased, the two branches no longer united. Debendra's father had sought in one way to restore the fallen fortunes of his house. Another zemindar, named Ganesh, dwelt in the Haripur district; he had one unmarried daughter, Hembati, who was given to Debendra in marriage. Hembati had many virtues; she was ugly, ill-tempered, unamiable, selfish. Up to the time of his marriage with her, Debendra's character had been without stain. He had been very studious, and was by nature steady and truth-loving. But that marriage had been fatal to him. When Debendra came to years of discretion he perceived that on account of his wife's disposition there was no hope of domestic happiness for him. With manhood there arose in him a love for beauty, but in his own house this was denied to him; with manhood there came a desire for conjugal affection, but the mere sight of the unamiable Hembati quenched the desire. Putting happiness out of the question, Debendra perceived that it would be difficult to stay in the house to endure the venom of Hembati's tongue. One day Hembati poured forth abuse on her husband; he had endured much, he could endure no more, he dragged Hembati by the hair and kicked her. From that day, deserting his home, he went to Calcutta, leaving orders that a small house should be built for him in the garden. Before this occurred the father of Debendra had died, therefore he was independent. In Calcutta he plunged into vicious pursuits to allay his unsatisfied desires, and then strove to wash away his heart's reproaches in wine; after that he ceased to feel any remorse, he took delight in vice. When he had learned what Calcutta could teach him in regard to luxury, Debendra returned to his native place, and, taking up his abode in the garden-house, gave himself up to the indulgence of his recently acquired tastes. Debendra had learned many peculiar fashions in Calcutta; on returning to Debipur he called himself a Reformer. First he established a _Brahmo Samaj_; many such Brahmos as Tara Charan were attracted to it, and to the speech-making there was no limit. He also thought of opening a female school; but this required too much effort, he could not do it. About widow marriage he was very zealous. One or two such marriages had been arranged, the widows being of low caste; but the credit of these was due, not to him, but to the contracting parties. He had been of one mind with Tara Charan about breaking the chains of the zenana; both had said, "Let women come out." In this matter Debendra was very successful, but then this emancipation had in his mind a special meaning. When Debendra, on his return from Govindpur, had thrown off his disguise and resumed his natural appearance, he took his seat in the next room. His servant, having prepared the pain-relieving _huka_, placed the snake in front of him. Debendra spent some time in the service of that fatigue-destroying goddess, Tobacco. He is not worthy to be called a man who does not know the luxury of tobacco. Oh, satisfier of the hearts of all! oh, world enchantress! may we ever be devoted to thee! Your vehicles, the _huka_, the pipe, let them ever remain before us. At the mere sight of them we shall obtain heavenly delight. Oh, _huka_! thou that sendest forth volumes of curling smoke, that hast a winding tube shaming the serpent! oh, bowl that beautifies thy top! how graceful are the chains of thy turban; how great is the beauty of thy curved mouthpiece; how sonorous the murmur of the ice-cool water in thy depths! Oh, world enchantress! oh, soother of the fatigues of man, employer of the idle, comforter of the henpecked husband's heart, encourager of timid dependents, who can know thy glory! Soother of the sorrowing! thou givest courage to the timid, intellect to the stupid, peace to the angry! Oh, bestower of blessings, giver of all happiness, appear in undiminished power in my room! Let your sweet scent increase daily, let your cool waters continue to rumble in your depths, let your mouthpiece ever be glued to my lips! Pleasure-loving Debendra enjoyed the favour of this great goddess as long as he would, but yet he was not satisfied; he proceeded to worship another great power. In the hand of his servant was displayed a number of straw-covered bottles. Then on that white, soft, spacious bed, a gold-coloured mat being laid, a spirit-stand was placed thereon, and the sunset-coloured liquid goddess poured into the power-giving decanter. A cut-glass tumbler and plated jug served as utensils for worship. From the kitchen a black, ugly priest came, bearing hot dishes of roast mutton and cutlets to take the place of the sacred flowers. Then Debendra, as a devoted worshipper, sat down to perform the rites. Then came a troop of singers and musicians, and concluded the ceremonies with their music and songs. At length a young man of about Debendra's age, of a placid countenance, came and sat with him. This was his cousin, Surendra. Surendra was in every respect the opposite of Debendra, yet the latter was much attached to his cousin; he heeded no one in the world but him. Every night Surendra came to see him, but, fearing the wine, he would only sit a few minutes. When all were gone, Surendra asked Debendra, "How are you to-day?" "The body," replied Debendra, "is the temple of disease." "Yours is, especially," said his cousin, "Have you fever to-day?" "No." "Is your liver out of order?" "It is as before." "Would it not be better to refrain from these excesses?" "What, drinking? How often will you speak of that? Wine is my constant companion," said Debendra. "But why should it be?" replied Surendra. "Wine was not born with you; you can't take it away with you. Many give it up, why should not you do so?" "What have I to gain by giving it up? Those who do so have some happiness in prospect, and therefore give it up. For me there is no happiness." "Then to save your life give it up." "Those to whom life brings happiness may give up wine; but what have I to gain by living?" Surendra's eyes filled with tears. Full of love for his friend, he urged: "Then for my sake give it up." Tears came into the eyes of Debendra as he said: "No one but yourself urges me to walk in virtuous paths. If I ever do give it up it will be for your sake, and--" "And what?" "If ever I hear that my wife is dead I will give up drink. Otherwise, whether I live or die, I care not." Surendra, with moist eyes, mentally anathematising Hembati, took his leave. CHAPTER IX. SURJA MUKHI'S LETTER. Dearest Srimati Kamal Mani Dasi, long may you live! "I am ashamed to address you any longer with a blessing. You have become a woman, and the mistress of a house. Still I cannot think of you otherwise than as my younger sister. I have brought you up to womanhood, I taught you your letters; but now when I see your writing I am ashamed to send this scrawl. But of what use to be ashamed? My day is over; were it not so how should I be in this condition? What condition?--it is a thing I cannot speak of to any one; should I do so there will be sorrow and shame; yet if I do not tell some one of my heart's trouble I cannot endure it. To whom can I speak? You are my beloved sister; except you no one loves me. Also it concerns your brother. I can speak of it to no one but you. "I have prepared my own funeral pyre. If I had not cared for Kunda Nandini, and she had died, would that have been any loss to me? God cares for so many others--would He not have cared for her? Why did I bring her home to my own destruction! When you saw that unfortunate being she was a child, now she is seventeen or eighteen. I admit she is beautiful; her beauty is fatal to me. If I have any happiness on earth it is in my husband; if I care about anything in this world it is for my husband; if there is any wealth belonging to me it is my husband: this husband Kunda Nandini is snatching from me. If I have a desire on earth it is for my husband's love: of that love Kunda Nandini is cheating me. Do not think evil of your brother; I am not reproaching him. He is virtuous, not even his enemies can find a fault in him. I can see daily that he tries to subdue his heart. Wherever Kunda Nandini may happen to be, from that spot, if possible, he averts his eyes; unless there is absolute necessity he does not speak her name. He is even harsh towards her; I have heard him scold her when she has committed no fault. Then why am I writing all this trash? Should a man ask this question it would be difficult to make him understand, but you being a woman will comprehend. If Kunda Nandini is in his eyes but as other women, why is he so careful not to look towards her? why take such pains to avoid speaking her name? He is conscious of guilt towards Kunda Nandini, therefore he scolds her without cause; that anger is not with her, but with himself; that scolding is not for her, but for himself. This I can understand. I who have been so long devoted to him, who within and without see only him, if I but see his shadow I can tell his thoughts. What can he hide from me? Occasionally when his mind is absent his eyes wander hither and thither; do I not know what they are seeking? If he meets it, again becoming troubled he withdraws his eyes; can I not understand that? For whose voice is he listening at meal-times when he pauses in the act of carrying food to his mouth? and when Kunda's tones reach his ear, and he fastens to eat his meal, can one not understand that? My beloved always had a gracious countenance; why is he now always so absent-minded? If one speaks to him he does not hear, but gives an absent answer. If, becoming angry, I say, 'May I die?' paying no attention he answers, 'Yes.' If I ask where his thoughts are, he says with his lawsuits; but I know they have no place in his mind; when he speaks of his lawsuits he is always merry. Another point. One day the old women of the neighbourhood were speaking of Kunda Nandini, pitying her young widowhood, her unprotected condition. Your brother came up; from within I saw his eyes fill with tears; he turned away and left them quickly. The other day I engaged a new servant; her name is Kumuda. Sometimes the Babu calls Kumuda; when so doing he often slips out the name Kunda instead of Kumuda, then how confused he is--why should he be confused? I cannot say he is neglectful of me, or unaffectionate; rather he is more attentive than before, more affectionate. The reason of this I fully understand: he is conscious of fault towards me; but I know that I have no longer a place in his heart. Attention is one thing, love quite another; the difference between these two we women can easily understand. "There is another amusing matter. A learned _pandit_ in Calcutta, named Iswara Chandra Bidya Sagar, has published a book on the marriage of widows. If he who would establish the custom of marrying widows is a _pandit_, then who can be called a dunce? Just now, the Brahman Bhattacharjya bringing the book into the _boita khana_, there was a great discussion. "After much talk in favour of widow-marriage, the Brahman, taking ten rupees from the Babu for the repairs of the _Tote_,[6] went his way. On the following day Sharbabhoum Thakur replied on the same subject. I had some golden bracelets made for his daughter's wedding. No one else was in favour of widow-marriage. [Footnote 6: The village school in which Sanscrit is taught.] "I have taken up much time in wearying you with my sorrows. Do I not know how vexed you will be? but what can I do, sister? If I do not tell you my sorrows, to whom shall I tell them? I have not said all yet, but hoping for some relief from you has calmed me a little. Say nothing of this to anyone; above all, I conjure you, show not this letter to your husband. Will you not come and see me? if you will come now your presence will heal many of my troubles. Send me quickly news of your husband and of your child. "SURJA MUKHI. "P.S.--Another word. If I can get rid of this girl I may be happy once more; but how to get rid of her? Can you take her? Would you not fear to do so?" Kamal Mani replied-- "You have become quite foolish, else how can you doubt your husband's heart? Do not lose faith in him; if you really cannot trust him you had better drown yourself. I, Kamal Mani, tell you you had better drown yourself. She who can no longer trust her husband had better die." CHAPTER X. THE SPROUT. On the course of a short time Nagendra's whole nature was changed. As at eventime, in the hot season, the clear sky becomes suddenly veiled in cloud, so Nagendra's mind became clouded. Surja Mukhi wept secretly. She thought to herself, "I will take Kamal Mani's advice. Why should I doubt my husband's heart? His heart is firm as the hills. I am under a delusion. Perhaps he is suffering in health." Alas! Surja Mukhi was building a bridge of sand. In the house there dwelt a sort of doctor. Surja Mukhi was the house-mistress. Sitting behind the _purdah_ (a half-transparent screen) she held converse with everyone, the person addressed remaining in the verandah. Calling the doctor, Surja Mukhi said-- "The Babu is not well; why do you not give him medicine?" "Is he ill? I did not know of it; I have heard nothing." "Has not the Babu told you?" "No; what is the matter?" "What is the matter? Are you a doctor, and do you ask that? Do I know?" The doctor was nonplussed, and saying, "I will go and inquire," he was about to leave; but Surja Mukhi, calling him back, said, "Do not ask the Babu about it; give him some medicine." The doctor thought this a peculiar sort of treatment; but there was no lack of medicine in the house, and going to the dispensary, he composed a draught of soda, port-wine, and some simple drugs, and, filling a bottle, labelled it, "To be taken twice a day." Surja Mukhi took the physic to her husband, and requested him to drink it. Nagendra, taking the bottle, read the inscription, and, hurling it away, struck a cat with it. The cat fled, her tail drenched with the physic. Surja Mukhi said: "If you will not take the medicine, at least tell me what is your complaint." Nagendra, annoyed, said, "What complaint have I?" "Look at yourself," replied Surja Mukhi, "and see how thin you have become," and she held a mirror before him. Nagendra, taking the mirror from her, threw it down and smashed it to atoms. Surja Mukhi began to weep. With an angry look Nagendra went away. Meeting a servant in the outer room, the Babu struck him for no fault. Surja Mukhi felt as if _she_ had received the blow. Formerly Nagendra had been of a very calm temper; now the least thing made him angry. Nor was this all. One night, the hour for the meal being already past, Nagendra had not come in. Surja Mukhi sat expecting him. At length, when he appeared, she was astonished at his looks. His face and eyes were inflamed--he had been drinking, and as he had never been given to drinking before his wife was shocked. From that time it became a daily custom. One day Surja Mukhi, casting herself at his feet, choking down the sobs in her throat, with much humility entreated, "For my sake give this up." Nagendra asked angrily, "What is my fault?" Surja Mukhi said: "If you do not know what is the fault, how can I? I only beg that for my sake you will give it up." Nagendra replied: "Surja Mukhi, I am a drunkard! If devotion should be paid to a drunkard, pay it to me; otherwise it is not called for." Surja Mukhi left the room to conceal her tears, since her weeping irritated her husband, and led him to strike the servants. Soon after, the _Dewan_ sent word to the mistress that the estate was going to ruin. She asked, "Why?" "Because the Babu will not see to things. The people on the estates do just as they please. Since the _Karta_ is so careless, no one heeds what I say." Surja Mukhi answered: "If the owner looks after the estate, it will be preserved; if not, let it go to ruin. I shall be thankful if I can only save my own property" (meaning her husband). Formerly Nagendra had carefully looked after all his affairs. One day some hundreds of his _ryots_ came to the _kacheri_, and with joined palms stood at the door. "Give us justice," they said, "O your highness; we cannot survive the tyranny of the _naib_ (a law officer) and the _gomashta_. We are being robbed of everything. If you do not save us, to whom shall we go?" Nagendra gave orders to drive them away. Formerly, when one of his _gomashtas_ had beaten a _ryot_ and taken a rupee from him, Nagendra had cut ten rupees from the _gomashta's_ pay and given it to the _ryot_. Hara Deb Ghosal wrote to Nagendra: "What has happened to you? I cannot imagine what you are doing. I receive no letters from you, or, if I do, they contain but two or three lines without any meaning. Have you taken offence with me? If so, why do you not tell me? Have you lost your lawsuit? Then why not say so? If you do not tell me anything else, at least give me news of your health." Nagendra replied: "Do not be angry with me. I am going to destruction." Hara Deb was very wise. On reading this letter he thought to himself: "What is this? Anxiety about money? A quarrel with some friend? Debendra Datta? Nothing of the kind. Is this love?" Kamal Mani received another letter from Surja Mukhi. It concluded thus: "Come, Kamal Mani, sister; except you I have no friend. Come to me." Kamal Mani was agitated; she could contain herself no longer. She felt that she must consult her husband. Srish Chandra, sitting in the inner apartments, was looking over the office account-books. Beside him on the bed, Satish Chandra, a child of a year old, was rejoicing in the possession of an English newspaper. He had first tried to eat it; but, failing in that, had spread it out and was now sitting upon it. Kamal Mani, approaching her husband, brought the end of her _sari_ round her neck, threw herself down, bending her forehead to the floor, and, folding her hands, said, "I pay my devotions to you, O great king." Just before this time, a play had been performed in the house, from whence she borrowed this inflated speech. Srish said, laughing, "Have the cucumbers been stolen again?" "Neither cucumbers nor melons; this time a most valuable thing has been stolen." "Where is the robbery?" asked Srish. "The robbery took place at Govindpur. My elder brother had a broken shell in a golden box. Some one has stolen it." Srish, not understanding the metaphor, said "Your brother's golden casket is Surja Mukhi. What is the broken shell?" "Surja Mukhi's wits," replied Kamal. "People say if one has a mind to play he can do so, though the shells are broken" (referring to a game played with shells). "If Surja Mukhi's understanding is defective, yet with it she gained your brother's heart, and with all your wisdom, you could not bring him over to your side. Who has stolen the broken shell?" "That I know not; but, from reading her letter, I perceive it is gone--else how could a woman write such a letter?" "May I see the letter?" asked Srish. Kamal Mani placed the letter in her husband's hand, saying: "Surja Mukhi forbade my telling you all this; but while I keep it from you I am quite uneasy. I can neither sleep nor eat, and I fear I may lose my senses." "If you have been forbidden to tell me of the matter I cannot read this letter, nor do I wish to hear its contents. Tell me what has to be done." "This is what must be done," replied Kamal. "Surja Mukhi's wits are scattered, and must be restored. There is no one that can do this except Satish Babu. His aunt has written requesting that he may be sent to Govindpur." Satish Babu had in the meantime upset a vase of flowers, and was now aiming at the inkstand. Watching him, Srish Chandra said: "Yes; he he is well fitted to act as physician. I understand now. He is invited to his aunt's house; if he goes, his mother must go also. Surja Mukhi's wits must be lost, or she could not have sent such an invitation." "Not Satish Babu only; we are all invited." "Why am I invited?" asked Srish. "Can I go alone?" replied Kamal. "Who will look after the luggage?" "It is very unreasonable in Surja Mukhi if she wants her husband's brother-in-law only that he may look after the luggage. I can find some one else to perform that office for a couple of days." Kamal Mani was angry; she frowned, mocked at Srish Chandra, and, snatching the paper on which he was writing out of his hand, tore it to pieces. Srish Chandra, smiling, said, "It serves you right." Kamal, affecting anger, said, "I will speak in that way if I wish!" Srish, in the same tone, replied, "And I shall speak as I choose!" Then a playful scuffle ensued; Kamal pretended to strike her husband, who in return pulled down her hair; whereupon she threw away his ink. Then they exchanged angry kisses. Satish Babu was delighted at this performance; he knew that kisses were his special property, so when he saw them scattered in this lavish manner he stood up, supporting himself by his mother's dress, to claim his royal share, crowing joyously. How sweetly that laugh fell on the ears of Kamal Mani! She took him in her lap, and showered kisses upon him. Srish Chandra followed her example. Then Satish Babu, having received his dues, got down and made for his father's brightly coloured pencil, which soon found its way into his mouth. In the battle between the _Kurus_ and _Pandus_ there was a great struggle between Bhagadatta and Arjuna. In this fight, Bhagadatta being invincible, and Arjuna vulnerable, the latter called Krishna to his aid, who, receiving the charge of Bhagadatta on his breast, blunted the force of the weapons.[7] In like manner, Satish Chandra having received these attacks on his face, peace was restored. But their peace and war was like the dropping of clouds, fitful. [Footnote 7: An illustration drawn from the _Mahabharat_.] Then Srish asked, "Must you really go to Govindpur? What am I to do alone?" "Do you think I can go alone?" answered his wife. "We must both go. Arrange matters in the morning when you go to business, and come home quickly. If you are long, Satish and I will sit crying for you." "I cannot go," replied Srish. "This is the season for buying linseed. You must go without me." "Come, Satish," was Kamal's reply; "we two will go and weep." At the sound of his mother's voice Satish ceased to gnaw the pencil, and raised another shout of joyous laughter. So Kamal's cry did not come off this time; in place of it the kissing performance was gone through as before. At its close Kamal said, "Now what are your orders?" Srish repeated that she must go without him, as he could not leave; whereupon she sat down sulking. Srish went behind her and began to mark her forehead with the ink from his pen. Then with a laugh she embraced him, saying, "Oh, dearer than life, how I love you!" He was obliged to return the embrace, when the ink transferred itself from her face to his. The quarrel thus ended, Kamal said, "If you really will not go, then make arrangements for me." "When will you come back?" "Need you ask?" said Kamal; "if you don't go, can I stay there long?" Srish Chandra sent Kamal Mani to Govindpur, but it is certain that Srish Chandra's employers did not do much in linseed at that time. The other clerks have privately informed us that this was the fault of Srish Chandra, who did not give his mind to it, but sat at home in meditation. Srish hearing himself thus accused, remarked, "It may be so, my wife was absent at that time." The hearers shook their heads, saying, "He is under petticoat government!" which so delighted Srish Chandra that he called to his servant, "Prepare dinner; these gentlemen will dine with me to-day." CHAPTER XI. CAUGHT AT LAST. It was as though a flower had bloomed in the family house at Govindpur. The sight of Kamal Mani's smiling face dried the tears in the eyes of Surja Mukhi. The moment she set foot in the house Kamal took in hand the dressing of her sister-in-law's hair, for Surja Mukhi had neglected herself lately. Kamal said, "Shall I put in a flower or two?" Surja Mukhi pinched her cheek, and forbade it. So Kamal Mani did it slily. When people came in she said, "Do you see the old woman wearing flowers in her hair?" But even Kamal's bright face did not dispel the dark clouds from that of Nagendra. When he met her he only said, "Where do you come from, Kamal?" She bent before him, saying bashfully, "Baby has brought me." "Indeed! I'll beat the rascal," replied Nagendra, taking the child in his arms, and spending an hour in play with him, in return for which the grateful child made free with his moustache. Kamal Mani playfully accosted Kunda with the words, "Ha, Kundi, Kundi! Nundi, Dundi! are you quite well, Kundi?" The girl was silent in astonishment, but presently she said, "I am well." "Call me _Didi_ (elder sister); if you do not I will burn your hair when you are asleep, or else I will give your body to the cockroaches." Kunda obeyed. When she had been in Calcutta she had not addressed Kamal by any name; indeed she had rarely spoken; but seeing that Kamal was very loving-hearted, she had become fond of her. In the years that had intervened without a meeting she had a little forgotten Kamal; but now, both being amiable, their affection was born afresh, and became very close. When Kamal Mani talked of returning home, Surja Mukhi said, "Nay, sister, stay a little longer. I shall be wretched when you are gone. It relieves me to talk to you of my trouble." "I shall not go without arranging your affairs." "What affairs?" said Surja Mukhi. "Your _Shradda_" (funeral ceremonies), replied Kamal; but mentally she said, "Extracting the thorns from your path." When Kunda heard that Kamal talked of going, she went to her room and wept. Kamal going quietly after her found her with her head on the pillow, weeping. Kamal sat down to dress Kunda's hair, an occupation of which she was very fond. When she had finished she drew Kunda's head on to her lap, and wiped away the tears. Then she said, "Kunda, why do you weep?" "Why do you go away?" was the reply. "Why should you weep for that?" "Because you love me." "Does no one else love you?" Kunda did not reply; and Kamal went on: "Does not the _Bou_ (Surja Mukhi) love you? No? Don't hide it from me." (Still no answer.) "Does not my brother love you?" (Still silence.) "Since I love you and you love me, shall we not go together?" (Yet Kunda spoke not.) "Will you go?" Kunda shook her head, saying, "I will not go." Kamal's joyous face became grave; she thought, "This does not sound well. The girl has the same complaint as my brother, but he suffers the more deeply. My husband is not here, with whom can I take counsel?" Then Kamal Mani drew Kunda's head lovingly on her breast, and taking hold of her face caressingly, said, "Kunda, will you tell me the truth?" "About what?" said the girl. "About what I shall ask thee. I am thy elder, I love thee as a sister; do not hide it from me, I will tell no one." In her mind she thought, "If I tell any one it will be my husband and my baby." After a pause Kunda asked, "What shall I tell you?" "You love my brother dearly, don't you?" Kunda gave no answer. Kamal Mani wept in her heart; aloud she said: "I understand. It is so. Well that does not hurt you, but many others suffer from it." Kunda Nandini, raising her head, fixed a steadfast look on the face of Kamal Mani. Kamal, understanding the silent question, replied, "Ah, unhappy one! dost thou not see that my brother loves thee?" Kunda's head again sank on Kamal's breast, which she watered with her tears. Both wept silently for many minutes. What the passion of love is the golden Kamal Mani knew very well. In her innermost heart she sympathized with Kunda, both in her joy and in her sorrow. Wiping Kunda's eyes she said again, "Kunda, will you go with me?" Kunda's eyes again tilled with tears. More earnestly, Kamal said: "If you are out of sight my brother will forget you, and you will forget him; otherwise, you will be lost, my brother will be lost and his wife--the house will go to ruin." Kunda continued weeping. Again Kamal asked, "Will you go? Only consider my brother's condition, his wife's." Kunda, after a long interval, wiped her eyes, sat up, and said, "I will go." Why this consent after so long an interval? Kamal understood that Kunda had offered up her own life on the temple of the household peace. Her own peace? Kamal felt that Kunda did not comprehend what was for her own peace. CHAPTER XII. HIRA. On this occasion, Haridasi _Boisnavi_ entering, sang-- "I went into the thorny forest to pluck a soiled flower-- Yes, my friend, a soiled flower; I wore it twined about my head, I hung it in my ears-- Friends, a soiled flower." This day Surja Mukhi was present. She sent to call Kamal to hear the singing. Kamal came, bringing Kunda Nandini with her. The _Boisnavi_ sang-- "I would die for this blooming thorn, I will steal its honied sweets, I go to seek where it doth bloom, This fresh young bud." Kamal Mani frowned, and said: "_Boisnavi_ Didi, may ashes be thrown on your face! Can you not sing something else?" Haridasi asked, "Why?" Kamal, more angrily, said: "Why? Bring a bough of the _babla_ tree, and show her how pleasant it is to be pierced by thorns." Surja Mukhi said gently: "We do not like songs of that sort; sing something suitable for the home circle." The _Boisnavi_, saying "Very well," began to sing-- "By clasping the Pandit's feet, I shall become learned in the Shastras; Learning thus the holy Shastras, who will dare speak ill of me?" Kamal, frowning, said: "Listen to this singing if it pleases you, sister. I shall go away." She went, and Surja Mukhi also left, with a displeased countenance. Of the rest of the women, those who relished the song remained, the others left; Kunda Nandini stayed. She did not understand the hidden meaning of the songs, she scarcely even heard them. Her thoughts were absent, so she remained where she was seated. Haridasi sang no more, but talked on trivial subjects. Seeing that there would be no more singing, all left except Kunda Nandini, whose feet seemed as though they would not move. Thus, finding herself alone with Kunda, the _Boisnavi_ talked much to her. Kunda heard something of her talk, but not all. Surja Mukhi saw all this from a distance, and when the two showed signs of being deep in conversation she called Kamal and pointed them out to her. Kamal said: "What of that? they are only talking. She is a woman, not a man." "Who knows?" said Surja. "I think it is a man in disguise; but I will soon find out. How wicked Kunda must be!" "Stay a moment," said Kamal, "I will fetch a _babla_ branch, and let her feel its thorns." Thus saying, Kamal went in search of a bough. On the way she saw Satish, who had got possession of his aunt's vermilion, and was seated, daubing neck, nose, chin, and breast with the red powder. At this sight Kamal forgot the _Boisnavi,_ the bough, Kunda Nandini, and everything else. Surja Mukhi sent for the servant Hira. Hira's name has been mentioned once; it is now needful to give a particular account of her. Nagendra and his father always took special care that the female servants of the household should be of good character. With this design they offered good wages, and sought to engage servants of a superior class. The women servants of the house dwelt in happiness and esteem, therefore many respectable women of small means took service with them. Amongst these Hira was the principal. Many maid-servants are of the Kaystha caste. Hira was a Kaystha. Her grandmother had first been engaged as a servant, and Hira, being then a child, had come with her. When Hira became capable the old woman gave up service, built herself a house out of her savings, and dwelt in Govindpur. Hira entered the service of the Datta family. She was then about twenty years of age, younger than most of the other servants, but in intelligence and in mental qualities their superior. Hira had been known in Govindpur from childhood as a widow, but no one had ever heard anything of her husband, neither had any one heard of any stain upon her character. She was something of a shrew. She dressed and adorned herself as one whose husband is living. She was beautiful, of brilliant complexion, lotus-eyed, short in stature, her face like the moon covered with clouds, her hair raised in front like a snake-hood. Hira was sitting alone singing. She made quarrels among the maids for her own amusement. She would frighten the cook in the dark, incite the boys to tease their parents to give them in marriage; if she saw any one sleeping she would paint the face with lime and ink. Truly she had many faults, as will appear by degrees. At present I will only add that if she saw attar or rose-water she would steal it. Surja Mukhi, calling Hira, said, "Do you know that _Boisnavi_?" "No," replied Hira. "I was never out of the neighbourhood, how should I know a _Boisnavi_ beggar-man. Ask the women of the _Thakur bari_; Karuna or Sitala may know her." "This is not a _Thakur bari Boisnavi_. I want to know who she is, where her home is, and why she talks so much with Kunda. If you find all this out for me I will give you a new Benares _sari_, and send you to see the play." At this offer Hira became very zealous, and asked, "When may I go to make inquiry?" "When you like; but if you do not follow her now you will not be able to trace her. Be careful that neither the _Boisnavi_ nor any one else suspects you." At this moment Kamal returned, and, approving of Surja Mukhi's design, said to Hira, "And if you can, prick her with _babla_ thorns." Hira said: "I will do all, but only a Benares _sari_ will not content me." "What do you want?" asked Surja. "She wants a husband," said Kamal. "Give her in marriage." "Very well," said Surja. "Would you like to have the _Thakur Jamai_?[8] Say so, and Kamal will arrange it." [Footnote 8: _Thakur Jamai_--Kamal Mani's husband.] "Then I will see," said Hira; "but there is already in the house a husband suited to my mind." "Who is it?" asked Surja. "Death," was Hira's reply. CHAPTER XIII. NO! On the evening of that day, Kunda was sitting near the _talao_[9] in the middle of the garden. The _talao_ was broad; its water pure and always blue. The reader will remember that behind this _talao_ was a flower-garden, in the midst of which stood a white marble house covered with creepers. In front, a flight of steps led down to the water. The steps were built of brick to resemble stone, very broad and clean. On either side grew an aged _bakul_ tree. Beneath these trees sat Kunda Nandini, alone in the darkening evening, gazing at the reflection of the sky and stars in the clear water. Here and there lotus flowers could be dimly seen. On the other three sides of the _talao_, mango, jak, plum, orange, lichi, cocoanut, kul, bel, and other fruit-trees grew thickly in rows, looking in the darkness like a wall with an uneven top. Occasionally the harsh voice of a bird in the branches broke the silence. The cool wind blowing over the _talao_ caused the water slightly to wet the lotus flowers, gave the reflected sky an appearance of trembling, and murmured in the leaves above Kunda Nandini's head. The scent of the flowers of the _bakul_ tree pervaded the air, mingled with that of jasmine and other blossoms. Everywhere fireflies flew in the darkness over the clear water, dancing, sparkling, becoming extinguished. Flying foxes talked to each other; jackals howled to keep off other animals. A few clouds having lost their way wandered over the sky; one or two stars fell as though overwhelmed with grief. Kunda Nandini sat brooding over her troubles. Thus ran her thoughts: "All my family is gone. My mother, my brother, my father, all died. Why did I not die? If I could not die, why did I come here? Does the good man become a star when he dies?" Kunda no longer remembered the vision she had seen on the night of her father's death. It did not recur to her mind even now. Only a faint memory of the scene came to her with the idea that, since she had seen her mother in vision, that mother must have become a star. So she asked herself: "Do the good become stars after death? and if so, are all I loved become stars? Then which are they among those hosts? how can I determine? Can they see me--I who have wept so much? Let them go, I will think of them no more. It makes me weep; what is the use of weeping? Is it my fate to weep? If not, my mother--again these thoughts! let them go. Would it not be well to die? How to do it? Shall I drown myself? Should I become a star if I did that? Should I see? Should I see every day--whom? Can I not say whom? why can I not pronounce the name? there is no one here who could hear it. Shall I please myself by uttering it for once? only in thought can I say it--Nagendra, my Nagendra! Oh, what do I say? my Nagendra! What am I? Surja Mukhi's Nagendra. How often have I uttered this name, and what is the use? If he could have married me instead of Surja Mukhi! Let it go! I shall drown myself. If I were to do that what would happen? To-morrow I should float on the water; all would hear of it. Nagendra--again I say it, Nagendra; if Nagendra heard of it what would he say? It will not do to drown myself; my body would swell, I should look ugly if he should see me! Can I take poison? What poison? Where should I get it? Who would bring it for me? Could I take it? I could, but not to-day. Let me please myself with the thought that he loves me. Is it true? Kamal Didi said so; but how can she know it? my conscience will not let me ask. Does he love me? How does he love me? What does he love--my beauty or me? Beauty? let me see." She went to examine the reflection of her face in the water, but, failing to see anything, returned to her former place. "It cannot be; why do I think of that? Surja Mukhi is more beautiful than I. Haro Mani, Bishu, Mukta, Chandra, Prasunna, Bama, Pramada, are all more beautiful. Even Hira is more beautiful; yes, notwithstanding her dark complexion, her face is more beautiful. Then if it is not beauty, is it disposition? Let me think. I can't find any attraction in myself. Kamal said it to satisfy me. Why should he love me? Yet why should Kamal try to flatter me? Who knows? But I will not die; I will think of that. Though it is false I will ponder over it; I will think that true which is false. But I cannot go to Calcutta; I should not see him. I cannot, cannot go; yet if not, what shall I do? If Kamal's words are true, then those who have done so much for me are being made to suffer through me. I can see that there is something in Surja Mukhi's mind. True or false I will have to go; but I cannot! Then I must drown myself. If I must die I will die! Oh, my father! did you leave me here to such a fate?" Then Kunda, putting her hands to her face, gave way to weeping. Suddenly the vision flashed into her mind; she started as if at a flash of lightning. "I had forgotten it all," she exclaimed. "Why had I forgotten it? My mother showed me my destiny, and bade me evade it by ascending to the stars. Why did I not go? Why did I not die? Why do I delay now? I will delay no longer." So saying, she began slowly to descend the steps. Kunda was but a woman, timid and cowardly; at each step she feared, at each step she shivered. Nevertheless she proceeded slowly with unshaken purpose to obey her mother's command. At this moment some one from behind touched her very gently on the shoulder. Some one said, "Kunda!" Kunda looked round. In the darkness she at once recognized Nagendra. Kunda thought no more that day of dying. [Footnote 9: _Talao_--usually rendered "tank" in English; but the word scarcely does justice to these reservoirs, which with their handsome flights of steps are quite ornamental.] And Nagendra, is this the stainless character you have preserved so long? Is this the return for your Surja Mukhi's devotion? Shame! shame! you are a thief; you are worse than a thief. What could a thief have done to Surja Mukhi? He might have stolen her ornaments, her wealth, but you have come to destroy her heart. Surja Mukhi never bestowed anything upon the thief, therefore if he stole, he was but a thief. But to you Surja Mukhi gave her all; therefore you are committing the worst of thefts. Nagendra, it were better for you to die. If you have the courage, drown yourself. Shame! shame! Kunda Nandini; why do you tremble at the touch of a thief? Why are the words of a thief as a thorn in the flesh? See, Kunda Nandini! the water is pure, cool, pleasant; will you plunge into it? will you not die? Kunda Nandini did not wish to die. The robber said: "Kunda, will you go to-morrow to Calcutta? Do you go willingly?" Willingly--alas! alas! Kunda wiped her eyes, but did not speak. "Kunda, why do you weep? Listen. With much difficulty I have endured so long; I cannot bear it longer. I cannot say how I have lived through it. Though I have struggled so hard, yet see how degraded I am. I have become a drunkard. I can struggle no longer; I cannot let you go. Listen, Kunda. Now widow marriage is allowed I will marry you, if you consent." This time Kunda spoke; she said "No." "Why, Kunda? do you think widow marriage unholy?" "No." "Then why not? Say, say, will you be my wife or not? will you love me or no?" "No." Then Nagendra, as though he had a thousand tongues, entreated her with heart-piercing words. Still Kunda said "No." Nagendra looked at the pure, cold water, and asked himself, "Can I lie there?" To herself Kunda said: "No, widow marriage is allowed in the Shastras; it is not on that account." Why, then, did she not seek the water? CHAPTER XIV. LIKE TO LIKE. Haridasi _Boisnavi_, returning to the garden-house, suddenly became Debendra Babu, and sat down and smoked his _huka_, drinking brandy freely at intervals until he became intoxicated. Then Surendra entered, sat down by Debendra, and after inquiring after his health, said, "Where have you been to-day again?" "Have you heard of this so soon?" said Debendra. "This is another mistake of yours. You imagine that what you do is hidden, that no one can know anything about it; but it is known all over the place." "I have no desire to hide anything," said Debendra. "It reflects no credit upon you. So long as you show the least shame we have some hope of you. If you had any shame left, would you expose yourself in the village as a _Boisnavi_?" Said Debendra, laughing, "What a jolly _Boisnavi_ I was! Were you not charmed with my get-up?" "I did not see you in that base disguise," replied Surendra, "or I would have given you a taste of the whip." Then snatching the glass from Debendra's hand, he said, "Now do listen seriously while you are in your senses; after that, drink if you will." "Speak, brother," said Debendra; "why are you angry to-day? I think the atmosphere of Hembati has corrupted you." Surendra, lending no ear to his evil words, said, "Whose destruction are you seeking to compass by assuming this disguise?" "Do you not know?" was the reply. "Don't you remember the schoolmaster's marriage to a goddess? This goddess is now a widow, and lives with the Datta family in that village. I went to see her." "Have you not gone far enough in vice? Are you not satisfied yet, that you wish to ruin that unprotected girl? See, Debendra, you are so sinful, so cruel, so destructive, that we can hardly associate with you any longer." Surendra said this with so much firmness that Debendra was quite stunned. Then he said, seriously: "Do not be angry with me; my heart is not under my own control. I can give up everything else but the hope of possessing this woman. Since the day I first saw her in Tara Charan's house I have been under the power of her beauty. In my eyes there is no such beauty anywhere. As in fever the patient is burned with thirst, from that day my passion for her has burned within me. I cannot relate the many attempts I have made to see her. Until now I had not succeeded. By means of this _Boisnavi_ dress I have accomplished my desire. There is no cause for you to fear. She is a virtuous woman." "Then why do you go?" asked his friend. "Only to see her. I cannot describe what satisfaction I have found in seeing her, talking with her, singing to her." "I am speaking seriously, not jesting. If you do not abandon this evil purpose, then our intercourse must end. More than that, I shall become your enemy." "You are my only friend," said Debendra; "I would lose half of what I possess rather than lose you. Still, I confess I would rather lose you than give up the hope of seeing Kunda Nandini." "Then it must be so. I can no longer associate with you." Thus saying, Surendra departed with a sorrowful heart. Debendra, greatly afflicted at losing his one friend, sat some time in repentant thought. At length he said: "Let it go! in this world who cares for any one? Each for himself!" Then filling his glass he drank, and under the influence of the liquor his heart quickly became joyous. Closing his eyes, he began to sing some doggerel beginning-- "My name is Hira, the flower girl." Presently a voice answered from without-- "My name is Hira Malini. He is talking in his cups; I can't bear to see it." Debendra, hearing the voice, called out noisily, "Who are you--a male or female spirit?" Then, jingling her bangles, the spirit entered and sat down by Debendra. The spirit was covered with a _sari_, bracelets on her arms, on her neck a charm, ornaments in her ears, silver chain round her waist, on her ankles rings. She was scented with attar. Debendra held a light near to the face of the spirit. He did not know her. Gently he said, "Who are you? and from whence do you come?" Then holding the light in another direction, he asked, "Whose spirit are you?" At last, finding he could not steady himself, he said, "Go for to-day; I will worship you with cakes and flesh of goat on the night of the dark moon."[10] [Footnote 10: At the time of the dark moon the Hindus worship Kalee and her attendant spirits.] Then the spirit, laughing, said, "Are you well, _Boisnavi Didi_?" "Good heavens!" said the tipsy one, "are you a spirit from the Datta family?" Thus saying, he again held the lamp near her face; moving it hither and thither all round, he gravely examined the woman. At last, throwing down the lamp, he began to sing, "Who are you? Surely I know you. Where have I seen you?" The woman replied, "I am Hira." "Hurrah! Three cheers for Hira!" Exclaiming thus, the drunken man began to jump about. Then, falling flat on the floor, he saluted Hira, and with glass in hand began to sing in her praise. Hira had discovered during the day that Haridasi _Boisnavi_ and Debendra Babu were one and the same person. But with what design Debendra had entered the house of the Dattas it was not so easy to discover. To find this out, Hira had come to Debendra's house; only Hira would have had courage for such a deed. She now said: "What is my purpose? To day a thief entered the Datta's house and committed a robbery--I have come to seize the robber." Hearing this, the Babu said: "It is true I went to steal; but, Hira, I went not to steal jewels or pearls, but to seek flowers and fruits." "What flower? Kunda?" "Hurrah! Yes, Kunda. Three cheers for Kunda Nandini! I adore her." "I have come from Kunda Nandini." "Hurrah! Speak! speak! What has she sent you to say? Yes, I remember; why should it not be? For three years we have loved each other." Hira was astonished, but wishing to hear more, she said: "I did not know you had loved so long. How did you first make love to her?" "There is no difficulty in that. From my friendship with Tara Charan, I asked him to introduce me to his wife. He did so, and from that time I have loved her." "After that what happened?" asked Hira. "After that, because of your mistress's anger, I did not see Kunda for many days. Then I entered the house as a _Boisnavi_. The girl is very timid, she will not speak; but the way in which I coaxed her to-day is sure to take effect. Why should it not succeed? Am I not Debendra? Learn well, oh lover! the art of winning hearts!" Then Hira said: "It has become very late; now good-bye," and smiling gently she arose and departed. Debendra fell into a drunken sleep. Early the next morning Hira related to Surja Mukhi all that she had heard from Debendra--his three years' passion, and his present attempt to play the lover to Kunda Nandini in the disguise of a _Boisnavi_. Then Surja Mukhi's blue eyes grew inflamed with anger, the crimson veins on her temples stood out. Kamal also heard it all. Surja Mukhi sent for Kunda Nandini, and when she came said to her-- "Kunda, we have learned who Haridasi _Boisnavi_ is. We know that he is your paramour. I now know your true character. We give no place in our house to such a woman. Take yourself away from here, otherwise Hira shall drive you away with a broom." Kunda trembled. Kamal saw that she was about to fall, and led her away to her own chamber. Remaining there, she comforted Kunda as well as she could, saying, "Let the _Bou_ (wife) say what she will, I do not believe a word of it." CHAPTER XV. THE FORLORN ONE. In the depth of night, when all were sleeping, Kunda Nandini opened the door of her chamber and went forth. With but one dress, the seventeen-year-old girl left the house of Surja Mukhi, and leaped alone into the ocean of the world. Kunda had never set foot outside the house; she could not tell in which direction to go. The dark body of the large house loomed against the sky. Kunda wandered for some time in the dark; then she remembered that a light was usually to be seen from Nagendra's room. She knew how to reach the spot; and thinking that she would refresh her eyes by seeking that light, she went to that side of the house. The shutters were open, the sash closed. In the darkness three lights gleamed; insects were hovering near trying to reach the light, but the glass repelled them. Kunda in her heart sympathized with these insects. Her infatuated eyes dwelt upon the light; she could not bring herself to leave it. She sat beneath some casuarina-trees near the window, every now and then watching the fireflies dancing in the trees. In the sky black clouds chased each other, only a star or two being visible at intervals. All round the house rows of casuarina-trees raising their heads into the clouds, stood like apparitions of the night. At the touch of the wind these giant-faced apparitions whispered in their ghost language over Kunda Nandini's head. The very ghosts, in their fear of the terrible night, spoke in low voices. Occasionally the open shutters of the window flapped against the walls. Black owls hooted as they sat upon the house; sometimes a dog seeing another animal rushed after it; sometimes a twig or a fruit fell to the ground. In the distance the cocoanut palms waved their heads, the rustling of the leaves of the fan palm reached the ear. Over all the light streamed, and the insect troop came and went. Kunda sat there gazing. A sash is gently opened; the figure of a man appears against the light. Alas! it is Nagendra's figure. Nagendra, what if you should discover the flower, Kunda, under the trees? What if, seeing you in the window, the sound of her beating heart should make itself heard? What if, hearing this sound, she should know that if you move and become invisible her happiness will be gone? Nagendra, you are standing out of the light; move it so that she can see you. Kunda is very wretched; stand there that the clear water of the pool with the stars reflected in it may not recur to her mind. Listen! the black owl hoots! Should you move, Kunda will be terrified by the lightning. See there! the black clouds, pressed by the wind, meet as though in battle. There will be a rainstorm: who will shelter Kunda? See there! you have opened the sash, swarms of insects are rushing into your room. Kunda thinks, "If I am virtuous, shall I be born again as an insect?" Kunda thinks she would like to share the fate of the insects. "I have scorched myself, why do I not die?" Nagendra, shutting the sash, moves away. Cruel! what harm you have done. You have no business waking in the night; go to sleep. Kunda Nandini is dying; let her die!--she would gladly do so to save you a headache. Now the lightened window has become dark. Looking--looking--wiping her eyes, Kunda Nandini arose and took the path before her. The ghost-like shrubs, murmuring, asked, "Whither goest thou?" the fan palms rustled, "Whither dost thou go?" the owl's deep voice asked the same question. The window said, "Let her go--no more will I show to her _Nagendra_." Then foolish Kunda Nandini gazed once more in that direction. Oh, iron-hearted Surja Mukhi, arise! think what you have done. Make the forlorn one return. Kunda went on, on, on; again the clouds clashed, the sky became as night, the lightning flashed, the wind moaned, the clouds thundered. Kunda! Kunda! whither goest thou? The storm came--first the sound, then clouds of dust, then leaves torn from the trees borne by the wind; at last, plash, plash, the rain. Kunda, with thy one garment, whither goest thou? By the flashes of lightning Kunda saw a hut: its walls were of mud, supporting a low roof. She sat down within the doorway, resting against the door. In doing this she made some noise. The house owner being awake heard the noise, but thought it was made by the storm; but a dog, who slept within near the door, barking loudly, alarmed the householder, who timidly opened the door, and seeing only a desolate woman, asked, "Who is there?" No reply. "Who are you, woman?" Kunda said, "I am standing here because of the storm." "What? What? Speak again." Kunda repeated her words. The householder recognizing the voice, drew Kunda indoors, and, making a fire, discovered herself to be Hira. She comforted Kunda, saying, "I understand--you have run away from the scolding; have no fear, I will tell no one. You shall stay with me for a couple of days." Hira's dwelling was surrounded by a wall. Inside were a couple of clean mud-built huts. The walls of the rooms were decorated with figures of flowers, birds, and gods. In the court-yard grew red-leaved vegetables, and near them jasmine and roses. The gardener from the Babu's house had planted them. If Hira had wished, he would have given her anything from the Babu's garden. His profit in this was that Hira with her own hand prepared his huka and handed it to him. In one of the huts Hira slept; in the other her grandmother. Hira made up a bed for Kunda beside her own. Kunda lay there, but did not sleep. Kunda desired to remain hidden, and therefore consented to be locked in the room on the following day when Hira went to her work, so that she should not be seen by the grandmother. At noon, when the grandmother went to bathe, Hira, coming home, permitted Kunda to bathe and eat. After this meal Kunda was again locked in, and Hira returned to her work till night, when she again made up the beds as before. Creak, creak, creak--the sound of the chain of the outer door gently shaken. Hira was astonished. One person only, the gatekeeper, sometimes shook the chain to give warning at night. But in his hand the chain did not speak so sweetly; it spoke threateningly, as though to say, "If you do not open, I will break the door." Now it seemed to say, "How are you, my Hira? Arise, my jewel of a Hira!" Hira arose, and opening the outer door saw a woman. At first she was puzzled, but in a moment, recognizing the visitor, she exclaimed, "Oh, _Ganga jal_![11] how fortunate I am!" [Footnote 11: _Ganga jal_--Ganges water; a pet name given by Hira to Malati. To receive this at the moment of death it essential to salvation; therefore Hira expresses the hope to meet Malati in the hour of death.] Hira's _Ganga jal_ was Malati the milk-woman, whose home was at Debipur, near Debendra Babu's house. She was a merry woman, from thirty to thirty-two years of age, dressed in a _sari_ and wearing shell bracelets, her lips red from the spices she ate; her complexion was almost fair, with red spots on her cheeks; her nose flat, her temples tattooed, a quid of tobacco in her cheek. Malati was not a servant of Debendra's, not even a dependent, but yet a follower; the services that others refused to perform, he obtained from her. At sight of this woman the cunning Hira said: "Sister _Ganga jal_! may I meet you at my last moment; but why have you come now?" Malati whispered, "Debendra Babu wants you." Hira, with a laugh: "Are you not to get anything?" Malati answered, "You best know what you mean. Come at once." As Hira desired to go, she told Kunda that she was called to her master's house, and must go to see what was wanted. Then extinguishing the light, she put on her dress and ornaments, and accompanied _Ganga jal_, the two singing as they went some love song. Hira went alone into Debendra's _boita khana_. He had been drinking, but not heavily; he was quite sensible. His manner to Hira was altogether changed; he paid her no compliments, but said: "I had taken so much that evening that I did not understand what you said. Why did you come that night? it is to know this that I have sent for you. You told me Kunda Nandini sent you, but you did not give her message. I suppose that was because you found me so much overcome; but you can tell me now." "Kunda Nandini did not send me to say anything." "Then why did you come?" replied Debendra. "I only came to see you." Debendra laughed. "You are very intelligent. Nagendra Babu is fortunate in possessing such a servant. I thought the talk about Kunda Nandini was a mere pretence. You came to inquire after Haridasi _Boisnavi_. You came to know my design in wearing the _Boisnavi_ garb; why I went to the Datta house: this you came to learn, and in part you accomplished your purpose. I do not seek to hide the matter. You did your master's work, and have received your reward from him, no doubt. I have a commission for you; do it, and I also will reward you." It would be an unpleasant task to relate in detail the speech of a man so deeply sunk in vice. Debendra, promising Hira an abundant reward, proposed to buy Kunda Nandini. At his words Hira's eyes reddened, her ears became like fire. When he had finished she rose and said-- "Sir, addressing me as a servant, you have said this to me. It is not for me to reply. I will tell my master, and he will give you a suitable answer." Then she went quickly out. For some moments Debendra sat puzzled and cowed. Then to revive himself he returned to the brandy, and the songs in which he usually indulged. CHAPTER XVI. HIRA'S ENVY Rising in the morning, Hira went to her work. For the past two days there had been a great tumult in the Datta house, because Kunda Nandini was not to be found. It was known to all the household that she had gone away in anger. It was also known to some of the neighbours. Nagendra heard that Kunda had gone, but no one told him the reason. He thought to himself, "Kunda has left because she does not think it right to remain in the house after what I said to her. If so, why does she not go with Kamal?" Nagendra's brow was clouded. No one ventured to come near him. He knew not what fault Surja Mukhi had committed, yet he held no intercourse with her, but sent a female spy into the neighbourhood to make search for Kunda Nandini. Surja Mukhi was much distressed on hearing of Kunda's flight, especially as Kamal Mani had assured her that what Debendra had said was not worthy of credit: for if she had had any bond with Debendra during three years, it could not have remained unknown; and Kunda's disposition gave no reason for suspicion of such a thing. Debendra was a drunkard, and in his cups he spoke falsely. Thinking over this, Surja Mukhi's distress increased. In addition to that, her husband's displeasure hurt her severely. A hundred times she abused Kunda--a thousand times she blamed herself. She also sent people in search of Kunda. Kamal's postponed her departure for Calcutta. She abused no one. She did not use a word of scolding to Surja Mukhi. Loosening her necklace from her throat, she showed it to all the household, saying, "I will give this to whomsoever will bring Kunda back." The guilty Hira heard and saw all this, but said nothing. Seeing the necklace she coveted it, but repressed her desire. On the second day, arranging her work, she went at noon, at which hour her grandmother would be bathing, to give Kunda her meal. At night the two made their bed, and laid down together. Neither Hira nor Kunda slept: Kunda was kept awake by her sorrow; Hira by the mingled happiness and trouble of her thoughts. But whatever her thoughts were she did not give them words--they remained hidden. Oh, Hira! Hira! you have not an evil countenance, you too are young; why this vice in your heart? Why did the Creator betray her? Because the Creator betrayed her, does she therefore wish to betray others? If Hira were in Surja Mukhi's place, would she be so deceitful? Hira says "No!" But sitting in Hira's place she speaks as Hira. People say all evil that occurs is brought about by the wicked. Wicked people say, "I should have been virtuous, but through the faults of others have become evil." Some say, "Why has not five become seven?" Five says, "I would have been seven, but two and five make seven. If the Creator or the Creator's creatures had given me two more, I should have been seven." So thought Hira. Hira said to herself: "Now what shall I do? Since the Creator has given me the opportunity, why should I lose it through my own fault? On the one side, if I take Kunda home to the Dattas, Kamal will give me the necklace, and the _Grihini_ also will give me something. Shall I spare the Babu? On the other hand, if I give Kunda to Debendra Babu, I shall get a large sum of money at once. But I can't do that. Why does Debendra think Kunda so beautiful? If I had good food, dressed well, took my ease like a fine lady in a picture, I could be the same. So simple a creature as Kunda can never understand the merits of Debendra Babu. If there were no mud there would be no lotus, and Kunda is the only woman who can excite love in Debendra Babu. Every one to their destiny! But why am I angry? Why should I trouble myself? I used to jest at love--I used to say it is mere talk, a mere story. Now I laugh no longer. I used to say, 'If anyone loves let him love; I shall never love any one.' Fate said, 'Wait, you will see by and by.' In trying to seize the robber of other's wealth, I have lost my own heart. What a face! what a neck! what a figure! is there another man like him? That the fellow should tell _me_ to bring Kunda to him! Could he set no one else this task? I could have struck him in the face! I have come to love him so dearly, I could even find pleasure in striking him. But let that pass. In that path there is danger; I must not think of it. I have long ceased to look for joy or sorrow in this life. Nevertheless, I cannot give Kunda into Debendra's hand; the thought of it torments me. Rather I will so manage that she shall not fall in his way. How shall I effect that? I will place Kunda where she was before, thus she will escape him. Whether he dress as _Boisnavi_ or _Vasudeva_,[12] he will not obtain admission into that house; therefore it will be well to take Kunda back there. But she will not go! Her face is set against the house. But if all coax her she must go. Another design I have in my mind; will God permit me to carry it out? Why am I so angry with Surja Mukhi? She never did me any harm; on the contrary, she loves me and is kind to me. Why, then, am I angry? Because Surja Mukhi is happy, and I am miserable; she is great, I am mean; she is mistress, I am servant; therefore my anger against her is strong. If, you say, God made her great, how is that her fault? Why should I hurt her? I reply, God has done me harm. Is that my fault? I do not wish to hurt her, but if hurting her benefits me, why should I not do it? Who does not seek his own advantage? Now I want money; I can't endure servitude any longer. Where will money come from? From the Datta house--where else? To get the Datta money, then, must be my object. Every one knows that Nagendra Babu's eyes have fallen on Kunda; the Babu worships her. What great people wish, they can accomplish. The only obstacle is Surja Mukhi. If the two should quarrel, then the great Surja Mukhi's wish will no longer be regarded. Now, let me see if I cannot bring about a quarrel. If that is done, the Babu will be free to worship Kunda. At present Kunda is but an innocent, but I will make her wise; I will soon bring her into subjection. She can be of much assistance to me. If I give my mind to it, I can make her do what I will. If the Babu devotes himself to Kunda, he will do what she bids him; and she shall do what I bid her. So shall I receive the fruits of his devotion. If I am not to serve longer, this is the way it must be brought about. I will give Kunda Nandini to Nagendra, but not suddenly. I will hide her for a few days and see what happens. Love is deepened by separation. If I keep them apart the Babu's love will ripen. Then I will bring out Kunda and give her to him. Then if Surja Mukhi's fate is not broken, it must be a very strong fate. In the meantime I will mould Kunda to my will. But, first, I must send my grandmother to Kamarghat, else I cannot keep Kunda hidden." [Footnote 12: _Vasudeva_--the father of Krishna.] With this design, Hira set about her arrangements. On some pretext she induced her grandmother to go to the house of a relative in the village of Kamarghat, and kept Kunda closely concealed in her own house. Kunda, seeing all her zeal and care, thought to herself, "There is no one living so good as Hira. Even Kamal does not love me so much." CHAPTER XVII. HIRA'S QUARREL. THE BUD OF THE POISON TREE. "Yes, that will do. Kunda shall submit. But if we do not make Surja Mukhi appear as poison in the eyes of Nagendra, nothing can be accomplished." So Hira set herself to divide the hearts hitherto undivided. One morning early, the wicked Hira came into her mistress's house ready for work. There was a servant in the Datta household named Kousalya, who hated Hira because she was head servant and enjoyed the favour of the mistress. Hira said to her: "Sister Kushi, I feel very strange to-day; will you do my work for me?" Kousalya feared Hira, therefore she said: "Of course I will do it; we are all subject to illness, and all the subjects of one mistress." It had been Hira's wish that Kousalya should give no reply, and she would make that a pretext for a quarrel. So, shaking her head, she said: "You presume so far as to abuse me?" Astonished, Kousalya said: "When did I abuse any one?" "What!" said Hira, angrily, "you deny it? Why did you speak of my illness? Do you think I am going to die? You hope that I am ill that you may show people how good you are to me. May you be ill yourself." "Be it so! Why are you angry, sister? You must die some day; Death will not forget you, nor will he forget me." "May Death never forget you! You envy me! May you die of envy! May your life be short! Go to destruction! May blindness seize upon you!" Kousalya could bear no more. She began to return these good wishes in similar terms. In the act of quarrelling Kousalya was the superior. Therefore Hira got her deserts. Then Hira went to complain to her mistress. If any one could have looked at her as she went, they would have seen no signs of anger on her face, but rather a smile on her lips. But when she reached her mistress, her face expressed great anger, and she began by using the weapon given by God to woman--that is to say, she shed a flood of tears. Surja Mukhi inquired into the cause. On hearing the complaint, she judged that Hira was in fault. Nevertheless, for her sake, she scolded Kousalya slightly. Not being satisfied with that, Hira said: "You must dismiss that woman, or I will not remain." Then Surja Mukhi was much vexed with Hira, and said: "You are very encroaching, Hira; you began the quarrel, the fault was entirely yours, and now you want me to dismiss the woman. I will do nothing so unjust. Go, if you will. I will not bid you stay." This was just what Hira wanted. Saying "Very well, I go," her eyes streaming with tears, she presented herself before the Babu in the outer apartments. The Babu was alone in the _boita khana_--he was usually alone now. Seeing Hira weeping, he asked, "Why do you weep, Hira?" "I have been told to come for my wages." Nagendra, astonished, asked: "What has happened?" "I am dismissed. _Ma Thakurani_ (the mistress) has dismissed me." "What have you done?" asked Nagendra. "Kushi abused me; I complained: the mistress believes her account and dismisses me." Nagendra, shaking his head and laughing, said: "That is not a likely story, Hira; tell the truth." Hira then, speaking plainly, said: "The truth is I will not stay." "Why?" "The mistress has become quite altered. One never knows what to expect from her." Nagendra, frowning, said in a sharp voice: "What does that mean?" Hira now brought in the fact she had wished to report. "What did she not say that day to Kunda Nandini Thakurani? On hearing it, Kunda left the house. Our fear is that some day something of the same kind should be said to us. We could not endure that, therefore I chose to anticipate it." "What are you talking about?" asked Nagendra. "I cannot tell you for shame." Nagendra's brow became dark. He said: "Go home for to-day; I will call you to-morrow." Hira's desire was accomplished. With this design she had quarrelled with Kousalya. Nagendra rose and went to Surja Mukhi. Stepping lightly, Hira followed him. Taking Surja Mukhi aside, he asked, "Have you dismissed Hira?" Surja Mukhi replied, "Yes," and then related the particulars. On hearing them, Nagendra said: "Let her go. What did you say to Kunda Nandini?" Nagendra saw that Surja Mukhi turned pale. "What did I say to her?" she stammered. "Yes; what evil words did you use to her?" Surja Mukhi remained silent some moments. Then she said-- "You are my all, my present and my future; why should I hide anything from you? I did speak harshly to Kunda; then, fearing you would be angry, I said nothing to you about it. Forgive me that offence; I am telling you all." Then she related the whole matter frankly, from the discovery of the _Boisnavi_ Haridasi to the reproof she had given to Kunda. At the end she said-- "I am deeply sorrowful that I have driven Kunda Nandini away. I have sent everywhere in search of her. If I had found her, I would have brought her back." Nagendra said-- "Your fault is not great. Could any respectable man's wife, hearing of such a stain, give refuge to the guilty person? But would it not have been well to think a little whether the charge was true? Did you not know of the talk about Tara Charan's house? Had you not heard that Debendra had been introduced to Kunda three years before? Why did you believe a drunkard's words?" "I did not think of that at the time. Now I do. My mind was wandering." As she spoke the faithful wife sank at Nagendra's feet, and clasping them with her hands, wetted them with her tears. Then raising her face, she said: "Oh, dearer than life, I will conceal nothing that is in my mind." Nagendra said: "You need not speak; I know that you suspect me of feeling love for Kunda Nandini." Surja Mukhi, hiding her face at the feet of her husband, wept. Again raising her face, sad and tearful as the dew-drenched lily, and looking into the face of him who could remove all her sorrows, she said: "What can I say? Can I tell you what I have suffered? Only lest my death might increase your sorrow, I do not die. Otherwise, when I knew that another shared your heart, I wished to die. But people cannot die by wishing to do so." Nagendra remained long silent; then, with a heavy sigh, he said-- "Surja Mukhi, the fault is entirely mine, not yours at all. I have indeed been unfaithful to you; in truth, forgetting you, my heart has gone out towards Kunda Nandini. What I have suffered, what I do suffer, how can I tell you? You think I have not tried to conquer it; but you must not think so. You could never reproach me so bitterly as I have reproached myself. I am sinful; I cannot rule my own heart." Surja Mukhi could endure no more. With clasped hands, she entreated bitterly-- "Tell me no more; keep it to yourself. Every word you say pierces my breast like a dart. What was written in my destiny has befallen me. I wish to hear no more; it is not fit for me to hear." "Not so, Surja Mukhi," replied Nagendra; "you must listen. Let me speak what I have long striven to say. I will leave this house; I will not die, but I will go elsewhere. Home and family no longer give me happiness. I have no pleasure with you. I am not fit to be your husband. I will trouble you no longer. I will find Kunda Nandini, and will go with her to another place. Do you remain mistress of this house. Regard yourself as a widow--since your husband is so base, are you not a widow? But, base as I am, I will not deceive you. Now I go: if I am able to forget Kunda, I will come again; if not, this is my last hour with you." What could Surja Mukhi say to these heart-piercing words? For some moments she stood like a statue, gazing on the ground. Then she cast herself down, hid her face, and wept. As the murderous tiger gazes at the dying agonies of his prey, Nagendra stood calmly looking on. He was thinking, "She will die to-day or to-morrow, as God may will. What can I do? If I willed it, could I die instead of her? I might die; but would that save Surja Mukhi?" No, Nagendra, your dying would not save Surja Mukhi; but it would be well for you to die. After a time Surja Mukhi sat up; again clasping her husband's feet, she said: "Grant me one boon." "What is it?" "Remain one month longer at home. If in that time we do not find Kunda Nandini, then go; I will not keep you." Nagendra went out without reply. Mentally he consented to remain for a month; Surja Mukhi understood that. She stood looking after his departing figure, thinking within herself: "My darling, I would give my life to extract the thorns from your feet. You would leave your home on account of this wretched Surja Mukhi. Are you or I the greater?" CHAPTER XVIII. THE CAGED BIRD. Hira had lost her place, but her relation with the Datta family was not ended. Ever greedy for news from that house, whenever she met any one belonging to it Hira entered into a gossip. In this way she endeavoured to ascertain the disposition of Nagendra towards Surja Mukhi. If she met no one she found some pretext for going to the house, where, in the servants' quarters, while talking of all sorts of matters, she would learn what she wished and depart. Thus some time passed; but one day an unpleasant event occurred. After Hira's interview with Debendra, Malati the milk-woman became a constant visitor at Hira's dwelling. Malati perceived that Hira was not pleased at this; also that one room remained constantly closed. The door was secured by a chain and padlock on the outside; but Malati coming in unexpectedly, perceived that the padlock was absent. Malati removed the chain and pushed the door, but it was fastened inside, and she guessed that some one must be in the room. She asked herself who it could be? At first she thought of a lover; but then, whose lover? Malati knew everything that went on, so she dismissed this idea. Then the thought flashed across her that it might be Kunda, of whose expulsion from the house of Nagendra she had heard. She speedily determined upon a means of resolving her doubt. Hira had brought from Nagendra's house a young deer, which, because of its restlessness, she kept tied up. Malati, pretending to feed the creature, loosened the fastening, and it instantly bounded away. Hira ran after it. Seizing the opportunity of Hira's absence, Malati began to call out in a voice of distress: "Hira! Hira! What has happened to my Hira?" Then rapping at Kunda's door, she exclaimed: "Kunda Thakurun, come out quickly; something has happened to Hira!" In alarm Kunda opened the door; whereupon Malati, with a laugh of triumph, ran away. Kunda again shut herself in. She did not say anything of the circumstance to Hira, lest she should be scolded. Malati went with her news to Debendra, who resolved to visit Hira's house on the following day, and bring the matter to a conclusion. Kunda was now a caged bird, ever restless. Two currents uniting become a powerful stream. So it was in Kunda's heart. On one side shame, insult, expulsion by Surja Mukhi; on the other, passion for Nagendra. By the union of these two streams that of passion was increased, the smaller was swallowed up in the larger. The pain of the taunts and the insults began to fade; Surja Mukhi no longer found place in Kunda's mind, Nagendra occupied it entirely. She began to think, "Why was I so hasty in leaving the house? What harm did a few words do to me? I used to see Nagendra, now I never see him. Could I go back there? if she would not drive me away I would go." Day and night Kunda revolved these thoughts; she soon determined that she must return to the Datta house or she would die; that even if Surja Mukhi should again drive her away, she must make the attempt. Yet on what pretext could she present herself in the court-yard of the house? She would be ashamed to go thither alone. If Hira would accompany her she might venture; but she was ashamed to open her mouth to Hira. Her heart could no longer endure not to see its lord. One morning, about four o'clock, while Hira was still sleeping, Kunda Nandini arose, and opening the door noiselessly, stepped out of the house. The dark fortnight being ended, the slender moon floated in the sky like a beautiful maiden on the ocean. Darkness lurked in masses amid the trees. The air was so still that the lotus in the weed-covered pool bordering the road did not shed its seed; the dogs were sleeping by the wayside; nature was full of sweet pensiveness. Kunda, guessing the road, went with doubtful steps to the front of the Datta house; she had no design in going, except that she might by a happy chance see Nagendra. Her return to his house might come about; let it occur when it would, what harm was there in the meantime in trying to see him secretly? While she remained shut up in Hira's house she had no chance of doing so. Now, as she walked, she thought, "I will go round the house; I may see him at the window, in the palace, in the garden, or in the path." Nagendra was accustomed to rise early; it was possible Kunda might obtain a glimpse of him, after which she meant to return to Hira's dwelling. But when she arrived at the house she saw nothing of Nagendra, neither in the path, nor on the roof, nor at the window. Kunda thought, "He has not risen yet, it is not time; I will sit down." She sat waiting amid the darkness under the trees; a fruit or a twig might be heard, in the silence, loosening itself with a slight cracking sound and falling to the earth. The birds in the boughs shook their wings overhead, and occasionally the sound of the watchmen knocking at the doors and giving their warning cry was to be heard. At length the cool wind blew, forerunner of the dawn, and the _papiya_ (a bird) filled the air with its musical voice. Presently the cuckoo uttered his cry, and at length all the birds uniting raised a chorus of song. Then Kunda's hope was extinguished; she could no longer sit under the trees, for the dawn had come and she might be seen by any one. She rose to return. One hope had been strong in her mind. There was a flower-garden attached to the inner apartments, where sometimes Nagendra took the air. He might be walking there now; Kunda could not go away without seeing if it were so. But the garden was walled in, and unless the inner door was open there was no entrance. Going thither, Kunda found the door open, and, stepping boldly in, hid herself within the boughs of a _bakul_ tree growing in the midst. Thickly-planted rows of creeper-covered trees decked the garden, between which were fine stone-made paths, and here and there flowering shrubs of various hues--red, white, blue, and yellow. Above them hovered troops of insects, coveting the morning honey, now poising, now flying, humming as they went; and, following the example of man, settling in flocks on some specially attractive flower. Many-coloured birds of small size, flower-like themselves, hovered over the blossoms, sipping the sweet juices and pouring forth a flood of melody. The flower-weighted branches swayed in the gentle breeze, the flowerless boughs remaining still, having nothing to weigh them down. The cuckoo, proud bird, concealing his dark colour in the tufts of the _bakul_ tree, triumphed over every one with his song. In the middle of the garden stood a creeper-covered arbour of white stone, surrounded by flowering shrubs. Kunda Nandini, looking forth from the _bakul_ tree, saw not Nagendra's tall and god-like form. She saw some one lying on the floor of the arbour, and concluded that it was he. She went forward to obtain a better new. Unfortunately the person arose and came out, and poor Kunda saw that it was not Nagendra, but Surja Mukhi. Frightened, Kunda stood still, she could neither advance nor recede. She saw that Surja Mukhi was walking about gathering flowers. Gradually Nagendra's wife approaching the _bakul_ tree, saw some one lurking within its branches. Not recognizing Kunda, Surja Mukhi said, "Who are you?" Kunda could not speak for fear; her feet refused to move. At length Surja Mukhi saw who it was, and exclaimed, "Is it not Kunda?" Kunda could not answer; but Surja Mukhi, seizing her hand, said, "Come, sister, I will not say anything more to you!" and took her indoors. CHAPTER XIX. DESCENT. On the night of that day, Debendra Datta, alone, in disguise, excited by wine, went to Hira's house in search of Kunda Nandini. He looked in the two huts, but Kunda was not there. Hira, covering her face with her _sari_, laughed at his discomfiture. Annoyed, Debendra said, "Why do you laugh?" "At your disappointment. The bird has fled; should you search my premises you will not find it." Then, in reply to Debendra's questions, Hira told all she knew, concluding with the words, "When I missed her in the morning I sought her everywhere, and at last found her in the Babu's house receiving much kindness." Debendra's hopes thus destroyed, he had nothing to detain him; but the doubt in his mind was not dispelled, he wished to sit a little and obtain further information. Noting a cloud or two in the sky he moved restlessly, saying, "I think it is going to rain." It was Hira's wish that he should sit awhile; but she was a woman, living alone; it was night, she could not bid him stay, if she did she would be taking another step in the downward course. Yet that was in her destiny. Debendra said, "Have you an umbrella?" There was no such thing in Hira's house. Then he asked, "Will it cause remark if I sit here until the rain is past?" "People will remark upon it, certainly; but the mischief has been done already in your coming to my house at night." "Then I may sit down?" Hira did not answer, but made a comfortable seat for him on the bench, took a silver-mounted _huka_ from a chest, prepared it for use and handed it to him. Debendra drew a flask of brandy from his pocket, and drank some of it undiluted. Under the influence of this spirit he perceived that Hira's eyes were beautiful. In truth they were so--large, dark, brilliant, and seductive. He said, "Your eyes are heavenly!" Hira smiled. Debendra saw in a corner a broken violin. Humming a tune, he took the violin and touched it with the bow. "Where did you get this instrument?" he asked. "I bought it of a beggar." Debendra made it perform a sort of accompaniment to his voice, as he sang some song in accordance with his mood. Hira's eyes shone yet more brilliantly. For a few moments she forgot self, forgot Debendra's position and her own. She thought, "He is the husband, I am the wife; the Creator, making us for each other, designed long ago to bring us together, that we might both enjoy happiness." The thoughts of the infatuated Hira found expression in speech. Debendra discovered from her half-spoken words that she had given her heart to him. The words were hardly uttered when Hira recovered consciousness. Then, with the wild look of a frantic creature, she exclaimed, "Go from my house!" Astonished, Debendra said, "What is the matter, Hira?" "You must go at once, or I shall." "Why do you drive me away?" said Debendra. "Go, go, else I will call some one. Why should you destroy me?" "Is this woman's nature?" asked Debendra. Hira, enraged, answered: "The nature of woman is not evil. The nature of such a man as you is very evil. You have no religion, you care nothing for the fate of others; you go about seeking only your own delight, thinking only what woman you can destroy. Otherwise, why are you sitting in my house? Was it not your design to compass my destruction? You thought me to be a courtezan, else you would not have had the boldness to sit down here. But I am not a courtezan; I am a poor woman, and live by my labour. I have no leisure for such evil doings. If I had been a rich man's wife, I can't say how it would have been." Debendra frowned. Then Hira softened; she looked full at Debendra and said: "The sight of your beauty and your gifts has made me foolish, but you are not to think of me as a courtezan. The sight of you makes me happy, and on that account I wished you to stay. I could not forbid you; but I am a woman. If I were too weak to forbid you, ought you to have sat down? You are very wicked; you entered my house in order to destroy me. Now leave the place!" Debendra, taking another draught of brandy, said: "Well done, Hira! you have made a capital speech. Will you give a lecture in our Brahmo Samaj?" Stung to the quick by this mockery, Hira said, bitterly: "I am not to be made a jest of by you. Even if I loved so base a man as you, such love would be no fit subject for a jest. I am not virtuous; I don't understand virtue; my mind is not turned in that direction. The reason I told you I was not a courtezan is because I am resolved not to bring a stain upon my character in the hope of winning your love. If you had a spark of love for me, I would have made no such pledge to myself. I am not speaking of virtue; I should think nothing of infamy compared with the treasure of your love; but you do not love me. For what reward should I incur ill-fame? For what gain should I give up my independence? If a young woman falls into your hands, you will not let her go. If I were to give you my worship, you would accept it; but to-morrow you would forget me, or, if you remembered, it would be to jest over my words with your companions. Why, then, should I become subject to you? Should the day come when you can love me, I will be your devoted servant." In this manner Debendra discovered Hira's affection for himself. He thought: "Now I know you, I can make you dance to my measure, and whenever I please effect my designs through you." With these thoughts in his mind, he departed. But Debendra did not yet know Hira. CHAPTER XX. GOOD NEWS. It is mid-day. Srish Babu is at office. The people in his house are all taking the noon siesta after their meal. The _boita khana_ is locked. A mongrel terrier is sleeping on the door-mat outside, his head between his paws. A couple of servants are seizing the opportunity to chat together in whispers. Kamal Mani is sitting in her sleeping chamber at her ease, needle in hand, sewing at some canvas work, her hair all loose; no one about but Satish Babu, indulging in many noises. Satish Babu at first tried to snatch away his mother's wool; but finding it securely guarded, he gave his mind to sucking the head of a clay tiger. In the distance a cat with outstretched paws sits watching them both. Her disposition was grave, her face indicated much wisdom and a heart void of fickleness. She is thinking: "The condition of human creatures is frightful; their minds are ever given to sewing canvas, playing with dolls, or some such silly employment. Their thoughts are not turned to good works, nor to providing suitable food for cats. What will become of them hereafter?" Elsewhere, a lizard on the wall with upraised face is watching a fly. No doubt he is pondering the evil disposition of flies. A butterfly is flying about. In the spot where Satish Babu sits eating sweets, the flies collect in swarms; the ants also do their share towards removing the sweet food. In a few moments the lizard, not being able to catch the fly, moves elsewhere. The cat also, seeing no means by which she could improve the disposition of mankind, heaving a sigh, slowly departs. The butterfly wings its way out of the room. Kamal Mani, tired of her work, puts it down, and turns to talk with Satish Babu. "Oh, Satu Babu, can you tell me why men go to office?" "Sli--li--bli," was the child's only answer. "Satu Babu," said his mother, "mind you never go to office." "Hama," said Satu. "What do you mean by Hama? You must not go to office to do hama. Do not go at all. If you do, the _Bou_ will sit crying at home before the day is half done." Satish Babu understood the word _Bou_, because Kamal Mani kept him in order by saying that the _Bou_ would come and beat him; so he said, "_Bou_ will beat." "Remember that, then; if you go to office, the _Bou_ will beat you." How long this sort of conversation would have continued does not appear, for at that moment a maid-servant entered, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and gave a letter to Kamal Mani. Kamal saw it was from Surja Mukhi; she read it twice through, then sat silent and dejected. This was the letter: "Dearest,--Since you returned to Calcutta you have forgotten me; else why have I had only one letter from you? Do you not know that I always long for news of you? You ask for news of Kunda. You will be delighted to hear that she is found. Besides that, I have another piece of good news for you. My husband is about to be married to Kunda. I have arranged this marriage. Widow-marriage is allowed in the Shastras, so what fault can be found with it? The wedding will take place in a couple of days; but you will not be able to attend, otherwise I would have invited you. Come, if you can, in time for the ceremony of _Phul Saja_.[13] I have a great desire to see you." [Footnote 13: _Phul Saja_. On the day following the wedding, the bride's father sends flowers and sweetmeats to the friends.] Kamal could not understand the meaning of this letter. She proceeded to take counsel with Satish Babu, who sat in front of her nibbling at the corners of a book. Kamal read the letter to him and said-- "Now, Satish Babu, tell me the meaning of this." Satish understood the joke; he stood up ready to cover his mother with kisses. Then for some moments Kamal forgot Surja Mukhi; but presently she returned to the letter, reflecting-- "This work is beyond Satish Babu, it needs the help of my minister; will he never come in? Come, baby, we are very angry." In due time Srish Chandra returned from office and changed his dress. Kamal Mani attended to his wants and then threw herself on the couch in a fume, the baby by her side. Srish Chandra, seeing the state of things, smiled, and seated himself, with his huka, on a distant couch. Invoking the _huka_ as a witness he said-- "O _huka_! thou hast cool water in thy belly but a fire in thy head, be thou a witness. Let her who is angry with me talk to me, else I will sit smoking for hours." At this Kamal Mani sat up, and in gentle anger turning to him her blue lotus eyes, said-- "It is no use speaking to you while you smoke; you will not attend." Then she rose from the couch and took away the _huka_. Kamal Mani's fit of sulking thus broken through, she gave Surja Mukhi's letter to be read, by way of explanation saying-- "Tell me the meaning of this, or I shall cut your pay." "Rather give me next month's pay in advance, then I will explain." Kamal Mani brought her mouth close to that of Srish Chandra, who took the coin he wished. After reading the letter he said-- "This is a joke!" "What is? your words, or the letter?" "The letter." "I shall discharge you to-day. Have you not a spark of understanding? Is this a matter a woman could jest about?" "It is impossible it can be meant in earnest." "I fear it is true." "Nonsense! How can it be true?" "I fear my brother is forcing on this marriage." Srish Chandra mused a while; then said, "I cannot understand this at all. What do you say? Shall I write to Nagendra?" Kamal Mani assented. Srish made a grimace, but he wrote the letter. Nagendra's reply was as follows:-- "Do not despise me, brother. Yet what is the use of such a petition; the despicable must be despised. I must effect this marriage. Should all the world abandon me I must do it, otherwise I shall go mad: I am not far short of it now. After this there seems nothing more to be said. You will perceive it is useless to try to turn me from it; but if you have anything to say I am ready to argue with you. If any one says that widow-marriage is contrary to religion, I will give him Vidya Sagar's essay to read. When so learned a teacher affirms that widow-marriage is approved by the Shastras, who can contradict? And if you say that though allowed by the Shastras it is not countenanced by society, that if I carry out this marriage I shall be excluded from society, the answer is, 'Who in Govindpur can exclude me from society? In a place where I constitute society, who is there to banish me?' Nevertheless, for your sakes I will effect the marriage secretly; no one shall know anything about it. You will not make the foregoing objections; you will say a double marriage is contrary to morals. Brother, how do you know that it is opposed to morality? You have learned this from the English; it was not held so in India formerly. Are the English infallible? They have taken this idea from the law of Moses;[14] but we do not hold Moses' law to be the word of God, therefore why should we say that for a man to marry two wives is immoral? You will say if a man may marry two wives why should not a woman have two husbands? The answer is, if a woman had two husbands certain evils would follow which would not result from a man's having two wives. If a woman has two husbands the children have no protector; should there be uncertainty about the father, society would be much disordered; but no such uncertainty arises when a man has two wives. Many other such objections might be pointed out. Whatever is injurious to the many is contrary to morals. If you think a man's having two wives opposed to morality, point out in what way it is injurious to the majority. You will instance to me discord in the family. I will give you a reason: I am childless. If I die my family name will become extinct; if I marry I may expect children: is this unreasonable? The final objection--Surja Mukhi: Why do I distress a loving wife with a rival? The answer is, Surja Mukhi is not troubled by this marriage: she herself suggested it; she prepared me for it; she is zealous for it. What objection then remains? and why should I be blamed?" [Footnote 14: The writer is mistaken in supposing that the Christian doctrine of monogamy is derived from the Mosaic law.] Kamal Mani having read the letter, said-- "In what respect he is to blame God knows; but what delusions he cherishes! I think men understand nothing. Be that as it may, arrange your affairs, husband; we must go to Govindpur." "But," replied Srish, "can you stop the marriage?" "If not, I will die at my brother's feet." "Nay, you can't do that; but we may bring the new wife away. Let us try." Then both prepared for the journey to Govindpur. Early the next day they started by boat, and arrived there in due time. Before entering the house they met the women-servants and some neighbours, who had come to bring Kamal Mani from the _ghat_. Both she and her husband were extremely anxious to know if the marriage had taken place, but neither could put a single question. How could they speak to strangers of such a shameful subject? Hurriedly Kamal Mani entered the women's apartments; she even forgot Satish Babu, who remained lingering behind. Indistinctly, and dreading the answer, she asked the servants-- "Where is Surja Mukhi?" She feared lest they should say the marriage was accomplished, or that Surja Mukhi was dead. The women replied that their mistress was in her bed-room. Kamal Mani darted thither. For a minute or two she searched hither and thither, finding no one. At last she saw a woman sitting near a window, her head bowed down. Kamal Mani could not see her face, but she knew it was Surja Mukhi, who, now hearing footsteps, arose and came forward. Not even yet could Kamal ask if the marriage had taken place. Surja Mukhi had lost flesh; her figure, formerly straight as a pine, had become bent like a bow; her laughing eyes were sunk; her lily face had lost its roundness. Kamal Mani comprehended that the marriage was accomplished. She inquired, "When was it?" Surja Mukhi answered, "Yesterday." Then the two sat down together, neither speaking. Surja Mukhi hid her face in the other's lap, and wept. Kamal Mani's tears fell on Surja Mukhi's unbound hair. Of what was Nagendra thinking at that time as he sat in the _boita khana_? His thoughts said: "Kunda Nandini! Kunda is mine; Kunda is my wife! Kunda! Kunda! she is mine!" Srish Chandra sat down beside him, but Nagendra could say little; he could think only, "Surja Mukhi herself hastened to give Kunda to me in marriage; who then can object to my enjoying this happiness?" CHAPTER XXI. SURJA MUKHI AND KAMAL MANI. When, in the evening, the two gained self-control to talk together, Surja Mukhi related the affair of the marriage from beginning to end. Astonished, Kamal Mani said-- "This marriage has been brought about by your exertions! Why have you thus sacrificed yourself?" Surja Mukhi smiled, a faint smile indeed, like the pale flashes of lightning after rain; then answered-- "What am I? Look upon your brother's face, radiant with happiness, then you will know what joy is his. If I have been able with my own eyes to see him so happy, has not my life answered its purpose? What joy could I hope for in denying happiness to him? He for whom I would die rather than see him unhappy for a single hour; him I saw day and night suffering anguish, ready to abandon all joys and become a wanderer--what happiness would have remained to me? I said to him, 'My lord, your joy is my joy! Do you marry Kunda; I shall be happy.' And so he married her." "And are you happy?" asked Kamal. "Why do you still ask about me? what am I? If I had ever seen my husband hurt his foot by walking on a stony path, I should have reproached myself that I had not laid my body down over the stones that he might have stepped upon me." Surja Mukhi remained some moments silent, her dress drenched with her tears. Suddenly raising her face, she asked-- "Kamal, in what country are females destroyed at birth?" Kamal understanding her thought, replied-- "What does it matter in what country it happens? it is according to destiny." "Whose destiny could be better than mine was? Who so fortunate as myself? Who ever had such a husband? Beauty, wealth, these are small matters; but in virtues, whose husband equals mine? Mine was a splendid destiny; how has it changed thus?" "That also is destiny," said Kamal. "Then why do I suffer on this account?" "But just now you said you were happy in the sight of your husband's joyous face; yet you speak of suffering so much. Can both be true?" "Both are true. I am happy in his joy. But that he should thrust me away; that he has thrust me away, and yet is so glad--" Surja could say no more, she was choking. But Kamal, understanding the meaning of her unfinished sentence, said-- "Because of that your heart burns within you; then why do you say, 'What am I?' With half of your heart you still think of your own rights; else why, having sacrificed yourself, do you repent?" "I do not repent," replied Surja. "That I have done right I do not doubt; but in dying there is suffering. I felt that I must give way, and I did so voluntarily. Still, may I not weep over that suffering with you?" Kamal Mani drew Surja Mukhi's head on to her breast; their thoughts were not expressed by words, but they conversed in their hearts. Kamal Mani understood the wretchedness of Surja Mukhi; Surja Mukhi comprehended that Kamal appreciated her suffering. They checked their sobs and ceased to weep. Surja Mukhi, setting her own affairs on one side, spoke of others, desired that Satish Babu should be brought, and talked to him. With Kamal she spoke long of Srish Chandra and of Satish, of the education of Satish and of his marriage. Thus they talked until far in the night, when Surja Mukhi embraced Kamal with much affection, and taking Satish into her lap kissed him lovingly. When they came to part, Surja Mukhi was again drowned in tears. She blessed Satish, saying-- "I wish that thou mayst be rich in the imperishable virtues of thy mother's brother; I know no greater blessing than this." Surja Mukhi spoke in her natural, gentle voice; nevertheless Kamal was astonished at its broken accents. "_Bon!_!" she exclaimed, "what is in your mind? tell me." "Nothing," replied Surja. "Do not hide it from me," said Kamal. "I have nothing to conceal," said Surja. Pacified, Kamal went to her room. But Surja Mukhi had a purpose to conceal. This Kamal learned in the morning. At dawn she went to Surja Mukhi's room in search of her; Surja Mukhi was not there, but upon the undisturbed bed there lay a letter. At the sight of it Kamal became dizzy; she could not read it. Without doing so she understood all, understood that Surja Mukhi had fled. She had no desire to read the letter, but crushed it in her hand. Striking her forehead, she sat down upon the bed, exclaiming: "I am a fool! how could I allow myself to be put off last night when parting from her?" Satish Babu, standing near, joined his tears with his mother's. The first passion of grief having spent itself, Kamal Mani opened and read the letter. It was addressed to herself, and ran as follows: "On the day on which I heard from my husband's mouth that he no longer had any pleasure in me, that for Kunda Nandini he was losing his senses or must die--on that day I resolved, if I could find Kunda Nandini, to give her to my husband and to make him happy; and that when I had done so I would leave my home, for I am not able to endure to see my husband become Kunda Nandini's. Now I have done these things. "I wished to have gone on the night of the wedding-day, but I had a desire to see my husband's happiness, to give him which I had sacrificed myself; also, I desired to see you once more. Now these desires are fulfilled, and I have left. "When you receive this letter I shall be far distant. My reason for not telling you beforehand is that you would not have allowed me to go. Now I beg this boon from you, that you will make no search for me. I have no hope that I shall ever see you again. While Kunda Nandini remains I shall not return to this place, and should I be sought for I shall not be found. I am now a poor wanderer. In the garb of a beggar I shall go from place to place. In begging I shall pass my life; who wilt know me? I might have brought some money with me, but I was not willing. I have left my husband--would I take his money? "Do one thing for me. Make a million salutations in my name at my husband's feet. I strove to write to him, but I could not; I could not see to write for tears, the paper was spoilt. Tearing it up, I wrote again and again, but in vain; what I have to say I could not write in any letter. Break the intelligence to him in any manner you think proper. Make him understand that I have not left him in anger; I am not angry, am never angry, shall never be angry with him. Could I be angry with him whom it is my joy to think upon? To him whom I love so devotedly, I remain constant so long as I remain on earth. Why not? since I cannot forget his thousand graces. No one has so many graces as he. If I could forget his numerous virtues on account of one fault, I should not be worthy to be his wife. I have taken a last farewell of him. In doing this I have given up all I possess. "From you also I have taken a last farewell, wishing you the blessing that your husband and son may live long. May you long be happy! Another blessing I wish you--that on the day you lose your husband's love your life may end. No one has conferred this blessing on me." CHAPTER XXII. WHAT IS THE POISON TREE? The poison tree, the narrative of whose growth we have given from the sowing of the seed to the production of its fruit, is to be found in every house. Its seed is sown in every field. There is no human being, however wise, whose heart is not touched by the passions of anger, envy, and desire. Some are able to subdue their passions as they arise; these are great men. Others have not this power, and here the poison tree springs up. The want of self-control is the germ of the poison tree, and also the cause of its growth. This tree is very vigorous; once nourished it cannot be destroyed. Its appearance is very pleasant to the eye; from a distance its variegated leaves and opening buds charm the sight. But its fruit is poisonous; who eats it dies. In different soils the poison tree bears different fruits. In some natures it bears sickness, in some sorrow, and other fruits. To keep the passions in subjection will is needed, and also power. The power must be natural, the will must be educated. Nature also is influenced by education; therefore education is the root of self-control. I speak not of such education as the schoolmaster can give. The most effectual teacher of the heart is suffering. Nagendra had never had this education. The Creator sent him into the world the possessor of every kind of happiness. Beauty of form, unlimited wealth, physical health, great learning, an amiable disposition, a devoted wife--all these seldom fall to the lot of one person; all had been bestowed on Nagendra. Most important of all, Nagendra was of a happy disposition: he was truthful and candid, yet agreeable: benevolent, yet just; generous, yet prudent; loving, yet firm in his duty. During the lifetime of his parents he was devoted to them. Attached to his wife, kind to his friends, considerate to his servants, a protector of his dependants, and peaceable towards his enemies, wise in counsel, trustworthy in act, gentle in conversation, ready at a jest. The natural reward of such a nature was unalloyed happiness. Since Nagendra's infancy it had been so: honour at home, fame abroad, devoted servants, an attached tenantry; from Surja Mukhi, unwavering, unbounded, unstained love. If so much happiness had not been allotted to him he could not have suffered so keenly. Had he not suffered he had not given way to his passion. Before he had cast the eyes of desire upon Kunda Nandini he had never fallen into this snare, because he had never known the want of love. Therefore he had never felt the necessity of putting a rein upon his inclinations. Accordingly, when the need of self-control arose he had not the power to exercise it. Unqualified happiness is often the source of suffering; and unless there has been suffering, permanent happiness cannot exist. It cannot be said that Nagendra was faultless. His fault was very heavy. A severe expiation had begun. CHAPTER XXIII. THE SEARCH. It is needless to say that when the news of Surja Mukhi's flight had spread through the house, people were sent in great haste in search of her. Nagendra sent people in all directions, Srish Chandra sent, and Kamal Mani sent. The upper servants among the women threw down their water-jars and started off; the Hindustani _Durwans_ of the North-West Provinces, carrying bamboo staves, wearing cotton-quilted chintz coats, clattered along in shoes of undressed leather; the _khansamahs_, with towel on the shoulder and silver chain round the waist, went in search of the mistress. Some relatives drove in carriages along the public roads. The villagers searched the fields and _gháts_; some sat smoking in council under a tree; some went to the _barowari puja_ house, to the verandah of Siva's temple, and to the schools of the professors of logic, and in other similar places sat and discussed the matter. Old and young women formed a small cause court on the _gháts_; to the boys of the place it was cause of great excitement; many of them hoped to escape going to school. At first Srish Chandra and Kamal Mani comforted Nagendra, saying, "She has never been accustomed to walk; how far can she go? Half a mile, or a mile at the most; hence she must be sitting somewhere near at hand, we shall find her immediately." But when two or three hours had passed without bringing news of Surja Mukhi, Nagendra himself went forth. After some stay in the broiling sun he said to himself, "I am looking here, when no doubt she has been found by this time;" and he returned home. Then finding no news of her he went out again, again to return, and again to go forth. So the day passed. In fact, Srish Chandra's words were true--Surja Mukhi had never walked; how far could she go? About a mile from the house she was lying in a mango garden at the edge of a tank. A _khansamah_ who was accustomed to serve in the women's apartment came to that place in his search, and recognizing her, said, "Will you not please to come home?" Surja Mukhi made no answer. Again he said, "Pray come home, the whole household is anxious." Then, in an angry voice, Surja Mukhi said, "Who are you to take me back?" The _khansamah_ was frightened; nevertheless he remained standing. Then Surja Mukhi said, "If you stay there I shall drown myself in the tank." The _khansamah_, finding he was unable to do anything, ran swiftly with the news to Nagendra. Nagendra came with a palanquin for her; but Surja Mukhi was no longer there. He searched all about, but found no trace. Surja Mukhi had wandered thence into a wood. There she met an old woman who had come to gather sticks. She had heard of a reward being offered for finding Surja Mukhi, therefore on seeing her she asked-- "Are you not our mistress?" "No, mother," replied Surja Mukhi. "Yes, you must be our mistress." "Who is your mistress?" "The lady of the Babu's house." "Am I wearing any gold ornaments that I should be the lady of the Babu's house?" The old woman thought, "That is true," and went further into the wood gathering sticks. Thus the day passed vainly; the night brought no more success. The two following days brought no tidings, though nothing was neglected in the search. Of the male searchers, scarcely any one knew Surja Mukhi by sight; so they seized many poor women and brought them before Nagendra. At length the daughters of respectable people feared to walk along the roads or on the _gháts_. If one was seen alone, the devoted Hindustani _Durwans_ followed, calling out "_Ma Thakurani_," and, preventing them from bathing, brought a palki. Many of those who were not accustomed to travel in a palki seized the opportunity of doing so free of expense. Srish Chandra could not remain longer. Returning to Calcutta, he began a search there. Kamal Mani, remaining in Govindpur, continued to look for the lost one. CHAPTER XXIV. EVERY SORT OF HAPPINESS IS FLEETING. The happiness for which Kunda Nandini had never ventured to hope was now hers; she had become the wife of Nagendra. On the marriage day she thought, "This joy is boundless; it can never end!" But after the flight of Surja Mukhi, repentance came to Kunda Nandini. She thought: "Surja Mukhi rescued me in my time of distress, when but for her I should have been lost; now on my account she is an outcast. If I am not to be happy, it were better I had died." She perceived that happiness has limits. It is evening. Nagendra is lying on the couch; Kunda Nandini sits at his head fanning him. Both are silent. This is not a good sign. No one else is present, yet they do not speak. This was not like perfect happiness; but since the flight of Surja Mukhi, where had there been perfect happiness? Kunda's thoughts were constantly seeking some means by which things could be restored to their former state, and she now ventured to ask Nagendra what could be done. Nagendra, somewhat disturbed, replied: "Do you wish things to be as they were before? do you repent having married me?" Kunda Nandini felt hurt. She said: "I never hoped that you would make me happy by marrying me. I am not saying I repent it. I am asking what can be done to induce Surja Mukhi to return." "Never speak of that. To hear the name of Surja Mukhi from your lips gives me pain; on your account Surja Mukhi has abandoned me." This was known to Kunda, yet to hear Nagendra say it hurt her. She asked herself: "Is this censure? How evil is my fate, yet I have committed no fault; Surja Mukhi brought about the marriage." She did not utter these thoughts aloud, but continued fanning. Noticing her silence, Nagendra said: "Why do you not talk? Are you angry?" "No," she replied. "Is a bare 'no' all you can say? Do you not longer love me?" "Do I not love you!" "'Do I not love you!' Words to soothe a boy. Kunda, I believe you never loved me." "I have always loved you," said Kunda, earnestly. Wise as Nagendra was, he did not comprehend the difference between Surja Mukhi and Kunda Nandini. It was not that Kunda did not feel the love for him that Surja Mukhi felt, but that she knew not how to express it. She was a girl of a timid nature; she had not the gift of words. What more could she say? But Nagendra, not understanding this, said: "Surja Mukhi always loved me. Why hang pearls on a monkey's neck? an iron chain were better." At this Kunda Nandini could not restrain her tears. Slowly rising, she went out of the room. There was no one now to whom she could look for sympathy. Kunda had not sought Kamal Mani since her arrival. Imagining herself the one chiefly to blame in the marriage, Kunda had not dared to show herself to Kamal Mani; but now, wounded to the quick, she longed to go to her compassionate, loving friend, who on a former occasion had soothed and shared her grief and wiped away her tears. But now things were altered. When Kamal saw Kunda Nandini approaching she was displeased, but she made no remark. Kunda, sitting down, began to weep; but Kamal did not inquire into the cause of her grief, so Kunda remained silent. Presently, Kamal Mani, saying "I am busy," went away. Kunda Nandini perceived that all joy is fleeting. CHAPTER XXV. THE FRUIT OF THE POISON TREE. Nagendra's letter to Hara Deb Ghosal: "You wrote that of all the acts I have done in my life, my marriage with Kunda Nandini is the most erroneous. I admit it. By doing this I have lost Surja Mukhi. I was very fortunate in obtaining Surja Mukhi for a wife. Every one digs for jewels, but only one finds the Koh-i-nur. Surja Mukhi is the Koh-i-nur. In no respect can Kunda Nandini fill her place. Why, then, did I instal Kunda Nandini in her seat? Delusion, delusion; now I am sensible of it. I have waked up from my dream to realize my loss. Now where shall I find Surja Mukhi? Why did I marry Kunda Nandini? Did I love her? Certainly I loved her; I lost my senses for her; my life was leaving me. But now I know this was but the love of the eye; or else, when I have been only fifteen days married, why do I say, 'Did I love her?' I love her still; but where is my Surja Mukhi? "I meant to have written much more to-day; but I cannot, it is very difficult." Hara Deb Ghosal's reply: "I understand your state of mind. It is not that you do not love Kunda Nandini; you do love her, but when you said it was the love of the eye only, you spoke the truth. Towards Surja Mukhi your love is deep, but for a couple of days it has been covered by the shadow of Kunda Nandini. Now you understand that you have lost Surja Mukhi. So long as the sun remains unclouded, we are warmed by his beams and we love the clouds; but when the sun is gone we know that he was the eye of the world. Not understanding your own heart, you have committed this great error. I will not reproach you more, because you fell into it under a delusion which it was very difficult to resist. "The mind has many different affections; men call them all love, but only that condition of heart which is ready to sacrifice its own happiness to secure that of another is true love. The passion for beauty is not love. The unstable lust for beauty is no more love than the desire of the hungry for rice. True love is the offspring of reason. When the qualities of a lovable person are perceived by the understanding, the heart being charmed by these qualities is drawn towards the possessor; it desires union with that treasury of virtues and becomes devoted to it. The fruits of this love are expansion of the heart, self-forgetfulness, self-denial. This is true love. Shakespeare, Valmiki, Madame de Staël, are its poets; as Kalidas, Byron, Jayadeva are of the other species of love. The effect on the heart produced by the sight of beauty is dulled by repetition. But love caused by the good qualities of a person does not lose its charm, because beauty has but one appearance, because virtues display themselves anew in every fresh act. If beauty and virtues are found together, love is quickly generated; but if once the intelligence be the cause for love, it is of no importance whether beauty exists or not. Towards an ugly husband or an ugly wife love of this kind holds a firm place. The love produced by virtue as virtue is lasting certainly, but it takes time to know these virtues; therefore this love never becomes suddenly strong, it is of gradual growth. The infatuation for beauty springs into full force at first sight; its first strength is so uncontrollable that all other faculties are destroyed by it. Whether it be a lasting love there is no means of knowing. It thinks itself undying. So you have thought. In the first strength of this infatuation your enduring love for Surja Mukhi became invisible to your eyes. This delusion is inherent in man's nature; therefore I do not censure you, rather I counsel you to strive to be happy in this state. "Do not despair; Surja Mukhi will certainly return. How long can she exist without seeing you? So long as she remains absent, do you cherish Kunda Nandini. So far as I understand your letters she is not without attractive qualities. When the infatuation for her beauty is lessened, there may remain something to create a lasting love; if that is so, you will be able to make yourself happy with her; and should you not again see your elder wife you may forget her, especially as the younger one loves you. Be not careless about love; for in love is man's only spotless and imperishable joy, the final means by which his nature can be elevated. Without love man could not dwell in this world that he has made so evil." Nagendra Natha's reply: "I have not answered your letter until now because of the trouble of my mind. I understand all you have written, and I know your counsel is good. But I cannot resolve to stay at home. A month ago my Surja Mukhi left me, and I have had no news of her. I design to follow her; I will wander from place to place in search of her. If I find her I will bring her home, otherwise I shall not return. I cannot remain with Kunda Nandini; she has become a pain to my eyes. It is not her fault, it is mine, but I cannot endure to see her face. Formerly I said nothing to her, but now I am perpetually finding fault with her. She weeps--what can I do? I shall soon be with you." As Nagendra wrote so he acted. Placing the care of everything in the hands of the _Dewan_ during his temporary absence, he set forth on his wanderings. Kamal Mani had previously gone to Calcutta; therefore of the people mentioned in this narrative, Kunda Nandini alone was left in the Datta mansion, and the servant Hira remained in attendance upon her. Darkness fell on the large household. As a brilliantly-lighted, densely-crowded dancing-hall, resounding with song and music, becomes dark, silent, and empty when the performance is over, so that immense household became when abandoned by Surja Mukhi and Nagendra Natha. As a child, having played for a day with a gaily painted doll, breaks and throws it away, and by degrees, earth accumulating, grass springs over it, so Kunda Nandini, abandoned by Nagendra Natha, remained untended and alone amid the crowd of people in that vast house. As when the forest is on fire the nests of young birds are consumed in the flames, and the mother-bird bringing food, and seeing neither tree, nor nest, nor young ones, with cries of anguish whirls in circles round the fire seeking her nest, so did Nagendra wander from place to place in search of Surja Mukhi. As in the fathomless depths of the boundless ocean, a jewel having fallen cannot again be seen, so Surja Mukhi was lost to sight. CHAPTER XXVI. THE SIGNS OF LOVE. As a cotton rag placed near fire becomes burnt, so the heart of Hira became ever more inflamed by the remarkable beauty of Debendra. Many a time Hira's virtue and good name would have been endangered by passion, but that Debendra's character for sensuality without love came to her mind and proved a safeguard. Hira had great power of self-control, and it was through this power that she, though not very virtuous, had hitherto easily preserved her chastity. The more certainly to rule her heart, Hira determined to go again to service. She felt that in daily work her mind would be distracted, and she would be able to forget this unfortunate passion which stung like the bite of a scorpion. Thus when Nagendra, leaving Kunda Nandini at Govindpur, was about to set forth, Hira, on the strength of past service, begged to be re-engaged, and Nagendra consented. There was another cause for Hira's resolve to resume service. In her greed for money, anticipating that Kunda would become the favourite of Nagendra, she had taken pains to bring her under her own sway. "Nagendra's wealth," she had reflected, "will fall into Kunda's hands, and when it is Kunda's it will be Hira's." Now Kunda had become the mistress of Nagendra's house, but she had not obtained possession of any special wealth. But at this time Hira's mind was not dwelling on this matter. Hira was not thinking of wealth; even had she done so, money obtained from Kunda would have been as poison to her. Hira was able to endure the pain of her own unsatisfied passion, but she could not bear Debendra's passion for Kunda. When Hira heard that Nagendra was journeying abroad, and that Kunda would remain as _grihini_ (house-mistress), then, remembering Haridasi _Boisnavi_, she became much alarmed, and stationed herself as a sentinel to place obstacles in the path of Debendra. It was not from a desire to secure the welfare of Kunda Nandini that Hira conceived this design. Under the influence of jealousy Hira had become so enraged with Kunda, that far from wishing her well she would gladly have seen her go to destruction. But in jealous fear lest Debendra should gain access to Kunda, Hira constituted herself the guardian of Nagendra's wife. Thus the servant Hira became the cause of suffering to Kunda, who saw that Hira's zeal and attention did not arise from affection. She perceived that Hira, though a servant, showed want of trust in her, and continually scolded and insulted her. Kunda was of a very peaceful disposition; though rendered ill by Hira's conduct she said nothing to her. Kunda's nature was calm, Hira's passionate. Thus Kunda, though the master's wife, submitted as if she were a dependant; Hira lorded it over her as if she were the mistress. Sometimes the other ladies of the house, seeing Kunda suffer, scolded Hira, but they could not stand before Hira's eloquence. The _Dewan_ hearing of her doings, said to Hira: "Go away; I dismiss you." Hira replied, with flaming eyes: "Who are you to dismiss me? I was placed here by the master, and except at his command I will not go. I have as much power to dismiss you as you have to dismiss me." The _Dewan_, fearing further insult, said not another word. Except Surja Mukhi, no one could rule Hira. One day, after the departure of Nagendra, Hira was lying alone in the creeper-covered summer-house in the flower-garden near to the women's apartments. Since it had been abandoned by Surja Mukhi and Nagendra, Hira had taken possession of this summer-house. It was evening, an almost full moon shone in the heavens. Her rays shining through the branches of the trees fell on the white marble, and danced upon the wind-moved waters of the _talao_ close by. The air was filled with the intoxicating perfume of the scented shrubs. There is nothing in nature so intoxicating as flower-perfumed air. Hira suddenly perceived the figure of a man in a grove of trees; a second glance showed it to be Debendra. He was not disguised, but wore his own apparel. Hira exclaimed in astonishment: "You are very bold, sir; should you be discovered you will be beaten!" "Where Hira is, what cause have I for fear?" Thus saying, Debendra sat down by Hira, who, after a little silent enjoyment this pleasure, said-- "Why have you come here? You will not be able to see her whom you hoped to see." "I have already attained my hope. I came to see you." Hira, not deceived by the sweet, flattering words she coveted, said with a laugh: "I did not know I was destined to such pleasure; still, since it has befallen me, let us go where I can satisfy myself by beholding you without interruption. Here there are many obstacles." "Where shall we go?" said Debendra. "Into that summer-house; there we need fear nothing." "Do not fear for me." "If there is nothing to fear for you, there is for me. If I am seen with you what will be my position?" Shrinking at this, Debendra said: "Let us go. Would it not be well that I should renew acquaintance with your new _grihini_?" The burning glance of hate cast on him by Hira at these words, Debendra failed to see in the uncertain light. Hira said: "How will you get to see her?" "By your kindness it will be accomplished," said Debendra. "Then do you remain here on the watch; I will bring her to you." With these words Hira went out of the summer-house. Proceeding some distance, she stopped beneath the shelter of a tree and gave way to a burst of sobbing: then went on into the house--not to Kunda Nandini, but to the _darwans_ (gatekeepers), to whom she said-- "Come quickly; there is a thief in the garden." Then Dobe, Chobe, Paure, and Teowari, taking thick bamboo sticks in their hands, started off for the flower-garden. Debendra, hearing from afar the sound of their clumsy, clattering shoes, and seeing their black, napkin-swathed chins, leaped from the summer-house and fled in haste. Teowari and Co. ran some distance, but they could not catch him; yet he did not get off scot-free. We cannot certainly say whether he tasted the bamboo, but we have heard that he was pursued by some very abusive terms from the mouths of the _darwans_; and that his servant, having had a little of his brandy, in gossip the next day with a female friend remarked-- "To-day, when I was rubbing the Babu with oil, I saw a bruise on his back." Returning home, Debendra made two resolutions: the first, that while Hira remained he would never again enter the Datta house; the second, that he would retaliate upon Hira. In the end he had a frightful revenge upon her. Hira's venial fault received a heavy punishment, so heavy that at sight of it even Debendra's stony heart was lacerated. We will relate it briefly later. CHAPTER XXVII. BY THE ROADSIDE. It is one of the worst days of the rainy season; not once had the sun appeared, only a continuous downpour of rain. The well metalled road to Benares was a mass of slush. But one traveller was to be seen, his dress was that of a _Brahmachari_ (an ascetic): yellow garments, a bead chaplet on his neck, the mark on the forehead, the bald crown surrounded by only a few white hairs, a palm leaf umbrella in one hand, in the other a brass drinking-vessel. Thus the _Brahmachari_ travelled in the soaking rain through the dark day, followed by a night as black as though the earth were full of ink. He could not distinguish between road and no road; nevertheless he continued his way, for he had renounced the world, he was a _Brahmachari_. To those who have given up worldly pleasures, light and darkness, a good and a bad road, are all one. It was now far on in the night; now and then it lightened; the darkness itself was preferable, was less frightful than those flashes of light. "Friend!" Plodding along in the darkness the _Brahmachari_ heard suddenly in the pathway some such sound, followed by a long sigh. The sound was muffled, nevertheless it seemed to come from a human throat, from some one in pain. The _Brahmachari_ stood waiting, the lightning flashed brightly; he saw something lying at the side of the road--was it a human being? Still he waited; the next flash convinced him that his conjecture was correct. He called out, "Who are you lying by the roadside?" No one made reply. Again he asked. This time an indistinct sound of distress caught his ear. Then the _Brahmachari_ laid his umbrella and drinking-vessel on the ground, and extending his hands began to feel about. Ere long he touched a soft body; then as his hand came in contact with a knot of hair he exclaimed, "Oh, _Durga_, it is a woman!" Leaving umbrella and drinking-vessel, he raised the dying or senseless woman in his arms, and, leaving the road, crossed the plain towards a village; he was familiar with the neighbourhood, and could make his way through the darkness. His frame was not powerful, yet he carried this dying creature like a child through this difficult path. Those who are strong in goodwill to others are not sensible of bodily weakness. Bearing the unconscious woman in his arms, the _Brahmachari_ stopped at the door of a leaf-thatched hut at the entrance of the village, and called to one within, "Haro, child, are you at home?" A woman replied, "Do I hear the _Thakur's_ voice? When did the _Thakur_ come?" "But now. Open the door quickly; I am in a great difficulty." Haro Mani opened the door. The _Brahmachari_, bidding her light a lamp, laid his burden on the floor of the hut. Haro lit the lamp, and bringing it near the dying woman, they both examined her carefully. They saw that she was not old, but in the condition of her body it was difficult to guess her age. She was extremely emaciated, and seemed struck with mortal illness. At one time she certainly must have had beauty, but she had none now. Her wet garments were greatly soiled, and torn in a hundred places; her wet, unbound hair was much tangled; her closed eyes deeply sunk. She breathed, but was not conscious; she seemed near death. Haro Mani asked: "Who is this? where did you find her?" The _Brahmachari_ explained, and added, "I see she is near death, yet if we could but renew the warmth of her body she might live; do as I tell you and let us see." Then Haro Mani, following the _Brahmachari's_ directions, changed the woman's wet clothes for dry garments, and dried her wet hair. Then lighting a fire, they endeavoured to warm her. The _Brahmachari_ said: "Probably she has been long without food; if there is milk in the house, give her a little at a time." Haro Mani possessed a cow, and had milk at hand; warming some, she administered it slowly. After a while the woman opened her eyes; when Haro Mani said, "Where have you come from, mother?" Reviving, the woman asked, "Where am I?" The _Brahmachari_ answered, "Finding you dying by the roadside, I brought you hither. Where are you going?" "Very far." Haro Mani said: "You still wear your bracelet; is your husband living?" The sick woman's brow darkened. Haro Mani was perplexed. The _Brahmachari_ asked "What shall we call you? what is your name?" The desolate creature, moving a little restlessly, replied, "My name is Surja Mukhi." CHAPTER XXVIII. IS THERE HOPE? There was apparently no hope of Surja Mukhi's life. The _Brahmachari_, not understanding her symptoms, next morning called in the village doctor. Ram Krishna Rai was very learned, particularly in medicine. He was renowned in the village for his skill. On seeing the symptoms, he said-- "This is consumption, and on this fever has set in. It is, I fear, a mortal sickness; still she may live." These words were not said in the presence of Surja Mukhi. The doctor administered physic, and seeing the destitute condition of the woman he said nothing about fees. He was not an avaricious man. Dismissing the physician, the _Brahmachari_ sent Haro Mani about other work, and entered into conversation with Surja Mukhi, who said-- "Thakur, why have you taken so much trouble about me? There is no need to do so on my account." "What trouble have I taken?" replied the _Brahmachari_; "this is my work. To assist others is my vocation; if I had not been occupied with you, some one else in similar circumstances would have required my services." "Then leave me, and attend to others. You can assist others, you cannot help me." "Wherefore?" asked the _Brahmachari_. "To restore me to health will not help me. Death alone will give me peace. Last night, when I fell down by the roadside, I hoped that I should die. Why did you save me?" "I knew not that you were in such deep trouble. But however deep it is, self-destruction is a great sin. Never be guilty of such an act. To kill one's self is as sinful as to kill another." "I have not tried to kill myself; death has approached voluntarily, therefore I hoped; but even in dying I have no joy." Saying these words, Surja Mukhi's voice broke, and she began to weep. The _Brahmachari_ said: "Whenever you speak of dying I see you weep; you wish to die. Mother, I am like a son to you; look upon me as such, and tell me your wish. If there is any remedy for your trouble, tell me, and I will bring it about. Wishing to say this, I have sent Haro Mani away, and am sitting alone with you. From your speech I infer that you belong to a very respectable family. That you are in a state of very great anxiety, I perceive. Why should you not tell me what it is? Consider me as your son, and speak." Surja Mukhi, with wet eyes, said: "I am dying; why should I feel shame at such a time? I have no other trouble than this, that I am dying without seeing my husband's face. If I could but see him once I should die happy." The _Brahmachari_ wiped his eyes also, and said: "Where is your husband? It is impossible for you to go to him now; but if he, on receiving the news, could come here, I would let him know by letter." Surja Mukhi's wan face expanded into a smile; then again becoming dejected, she said: "He could come, but I cannot tell if he would. I am guilty of a great offence against him, but he is full of kindness to me; he might forgive me, but he is far from here. Can I live till he comes?" Finding, on further inquiry, that the Babu lived at Haripur Zillah, the _Brahmachari_ brought pen and paper, and, taking Surja Mukhi's instructions, wrote as follows: "SIR,--I am a stranger to you. I am a Brahman, leading the life of a _Brahmachari_. I do not even know who you are; this only I know, that Srimati Surja Mukhi Dasi is your wife. She is lying in a dangerous state of illness in the house of the _Boisnavi_ Haro Mani, in the village of Madhupur. She is under medical treatment, but it appears uncertain whether she will recover. Her last desire is to see you once more and die. If you are able to pardon her offence, whatever it may be, then pray come hither quickly. I address her as 'Mother.' As a son I write this letter by her direction. She has no strength to write herself. If you come, do so by way of Ranigunj. Inquire in Ranigunj for Sriman Madhab Chandra, and on mentioning my name he will send some one with you. In this way you will not have to search Madhupur for the house. If you come, come quickly, or it may be too late. Receive my blessing. "(Signed) SIVA PRASAD." The letter ended, the _Brahmachari_ asked, "What address shall I write?" Surja Mukhi replied, "When Haro Mani comes I will tell you."[15] [Footnote 15: The wife does not utter the name of her husband except under stress of necessity.] Haro Mani, having arrived, addressed the letter to Nagendra Natha Datta, and took it to the post-office. When the _Brahmachari_ had gone, Surja Mukhi, with tearful eyes, joined hands, and upturned face, put up her petition to the Creator, saying, "Oh, supreme God, if you are faithful, then, as I am a true wife, may this letter accomplish its end. I knew nothing during my life save the feet of my husband. I do not desire heaven as the reward of my devotion; this only I desire, that I may see my husband ere I die." But the letter did not reach Nagendra. He had left Govindpur long before it arrived there. The messenger gave the letter to the _Dewan,_ and went away. Nagendra had said to the _Dewan_, "When I stay at any place I shall write thence to you. When you receive my instructions, forward any letters that may have arrived for me." In due time Nagendra reached Benares, whence he wrote to the _Dewan_, who sent Siva Prasad's epistle with the rest of the letters. On receiving this letter Nagendra was struck to the heart, and, pressing his forehead, exclaimed in distress, "Lord of all the world, preserve my senses for one moment!" This prayer reached the ear of God, and for a time his senses were preserved. Calling his head servant, he said, "I must go to-night to Ranigunj; make all arrangements." The man went to do his bidding; then Nagendra fell senseless on the floor. That night Nagendra left Benares behind him. Oh, world-enchanting Benares! what happy man could have quitted thee on such an autumn night with satiated eyes? It is a moonless night. From the Ganges stream, in whatever direction you look you will see the sky studded with stars--from endless ages ever-burning stars, resting never. Below, a second sky reflected in the deep blue water; on shore, flights of steps, and tall houses showing a thousand lights; these again reflected in the river. Seeing this, Nagendra closed his eyes. To-night he could not endure the beauty of earth. He knew that Siva Prasad's letter had been delayed many days. Where was Surja Mukhi now? CHAPTER XXIX. HIRA'S POISON TREE HAS BLOSSOMED. On the day when the _durwans_ had driven out Debendra Babu with bamboos, Hira had laughed heartily within herself. But later she had felt much remorse. She thought, "I have not done well to disgrace him; I know not how much I have angered him. Now I shall have no place in his thoughts; all my hopes are destroyed." Debendra also was occupied in devising a plan of vengeance upon Hira for the punishment she had caused to be inflicted on him. At last he sent for Hira, and after one or two days of doubt she came. Debendra showed no displeasure, and made no allusion to what had occurred. Avoiding that, he entered into pleasant conversation with her. As the spider spreads his net for the fly, so Debendra spread his net for Hira. In the hope of obtaining her desire, Hira easily fell into the snare. Intoxicated with Debendra's sweet words, she was imposed upon by his crafty speech. She thought, "Surely this is love! Debendra loves me." Hira was cunning, but now her cunning did not serve her. The power which the ancient poets describe as having been used to disturb the meditations of Siva, who had renounced passion--by that power Hira had lost her cunning. Then Debendra took his guitar, and, stimulated by wine, began to sing. His rich and cultivated voice gave forth such honied waves of song, that Hira was as one enchanted. Her heart became restless, and melted with love of Debendra. Then in her eyes Debendra seemed the perfection of beauty, the essence of all that was adorable to a woman. Her eyes overflowed with tears springing from love. Putting down his guitar, Debendra wiped away her tears. Hira shivered. Then Debendra began such pleasant jesting, mingled with loving speeches, and adorned his conversation with such ambiguous phrases, that Hira, entranced, thought, "This is heavenly joy!" Never had she heard such words. If her senses had not been bewildered she would have thought, "This is hell." Debendra had never known real love; but he was very learned in the love language of the old poets. Hearing from Debendra songs in praise of the inexpressible delights of love, Hira thought of giving herself up to him. She became steeped in love from head to foot. Then again Debendra sang with the voice of the first bird of spring. Hira, inspired by love, joined in with her feminine voice. Debendra urged her to sing. Hira, with sparkling eyes and smiling face, impelled by her happy feelings, sang a love song, a petition for love. Then, sitting in that evil room, with sinful hearts, the two, under the influence of evil desires, bound themselves to live in sin. Hira knew how to subdue her heart, but having no inclination to do so she entered the flame as easily as an insect. Her belief that Debendra did not love her had been her protection until now. When her love for Debendra was but in the germ she smilingly confessed it to herself, but turned away from him without hesitation. When the full-grown passion pierced her heart she took service to distract her thoughts. But when she imagined he loved her she had no desire to resist. Therefore she now had to eat the fruit of the poison tree. People say that you do not see sin punished in this world. Be that true or not, you may be sure that those who do not rule their own hearts will have to bear the consequences. CHAPTER XXX. NEWS OF SURJA MUKHI. It is late autumn. The waters from the fields are drying up; the rice crop is ripening; the lotus flowers have disappeared from the tanks. At dawn, dew falls from the boughs of the trees; at evening, mist rises over the plains. One day at dawn a palanquin was borne along the Madhupur road. At this sight all the boys of the place assembled in a row; all the daughters and wives, old and young, resting their water-vessels on the hip, stood awhile to gaze. The husbandmen, leaving the rice crop, sickle in hand and with turbaned heads, stood staring at the palanquin. The influential men of the village sat in committee. A booted foot was set down from the palanquin: the general opinion was that an English gentleman had arrived; the children thought it was Bogie. When Nagendra Natha had descended from the palanquin, half a dozen people saluted him because he wore pantaloons and a smoking-cap. Some thought he was the police inspector; others that he was a constable. Addressing an old man in the crowd, Nagendra inquired for Siva Prasad _Brahmachari_. The person addressed felt certain that this must be a case of investigation into a murder, and that therefore it would not be well to give a truthful answer. He replied, "Sir, I am but a child; I do not know as much as that." Nagendra perceived that unless he could meet with an educated man he would learn nothing. There were many in the village, therefore Nagendra went to a house of superior class. It proved to be that of Ram Kristo Rai, who, noticing the arrival of a strange gentleman, requested him to sit down. Nagendra, inquiring for Siva Prasad _Brahmachari_, was informed that he had left the place. Much dejected, Nagendra asked, "Where is he gone?" "That I do not know; he never remains long in one place." "Does any one know when he will return?" asked Nagendra. "I have some business with him, therefore I also made that inquiry, but no one can tell me." "How long is it since he left?" "About a month." "Could any one show me the house of Haro Mani _Boisnavi_, of this village?" "Haro Mani's house stood by the roadside; but it exists no longer, it has been destroyed by fire." Nagendra pressed his forehead. In a weak voice he asked, "Where is Haro Mani?" "No one can say. Since the night her house was burned she has fled somewhere. Some even say that she herself set fire to it." In a broken voice Nagendra asked, "Did any other woman live in her house?" "No. In the month _Sraban_ a stranger, falling sick, stayed in her house. She was placed there by the _Brahmachari_. I heard her name was Surja Mukhi. She was ill of consumption; I attended her, had almost cured her. Now--" Breathing hard, Nagendra repeated, "Now?" "In the destruction of Haro Mani's house the woman was burnt." Nagendra fell from his chair, striking his head severely. The blow stunned him. The doctor attended to his needs. Who would live in a world so full of sorrow? The poison tree grows in every one's court. Who would love? to have one's heart torn in pieces. Oh, Creator! why hast Thou not made this a happy world? Thou hadst the power if Thou hadst wished to make it a world of joy! Why is there so much sorrow in it? When, at evening, Nagendra Natha left Madhupur in his palanquin, he said to himself-- "Now I have lost all. What is lost--happiness? that was lost on the day when Surja Mukhi left home. Then what is lost now--hope? So long as hope remains to man all is not lost; when hope dies, all dies." Now, therefore, he resolved to go to Govindpur, not with the purpose of remaining, but to arrange all his affairs and bid farewell to the house. The zemindari, the family house, and the rest of his landed property of his own acquiring, he would make over by deed to his nephew, Satish Chandra. The deed would need to be drawn up by a lawyer, or it would not stand. The movable wealth he would send to Kamal Mani in Calcutta, sending Kunda Nandini there also. A certain amount of money he would reserve for his own support in Government securities. The account-books of the estate he would place in the hands of Srish Chandra. He would not give Surja Mukhi's ornaments to his sister, but would keep them beside him wherever he went, and when his time came would die looking at them. After completing the needful arrangements he would leave home, revisit the spot where Surja Mukhi had died, and then resume his wandering life. So long as he should live he would hide in some corner of the earth. Such were Nagendra's thoughts as he was borne on in his palanquin; its doors were open, the night was lightened by the October moon, stars shone in the sky. The telegraph-wires by the wayside hummed in the wind; but on that night not even a star could seem beautiful in the eyes of Nagendra, even the moonlight seemed harsh. All things seemed to give pain. The earth was cruel. Why should everything that seemed beautiful in days of happiness seem to-day so ugly? Those long slender moonbeams by which the heart was wont to be refreshed, why did they now seem so glaring? The sky is to-day as blue, the clouds as white, the stars as bright, the wind as playful; the animal creation, as ever, rove at will. Man is as smiling and joyous, the earth pursues its endless course, family affairs follow their daily round. The world's hardness is unendurable. Why did not the earth open and swallow up Nagendra in his palanquin? Thus thinking, Nagendra perceived that he was himself to blame for all. He had reached his thirty-third year only, yet he had lost all. God had given him everything that makes the happiness of man. Riches, greatness, prosperity, honour--all these he had received from the beginning in unwonted measure. Without intelligence these had been nothing, but God had given that also without stint. His education had not been neglected by his parents; who was so well instructed as himself? Beauty, strength, health, lovableness--these also nature had given to him with liberal hand. That gift which is priceless in the world, a loving, faithful wife, even this had been granted to him; who on this earth had possessed more of the elements of happiness? who was there on earth to-day more wretched? If by giving up everything, riches, honour, beauty, youth, learning, intelligence, he could have changed conditions with one of his palanquin-bearers, he would have considered it a heavenly happiness. "Yet why a bearer?" thought he; "is there a prisoner in the gaols of this country who is not more happy than I? not more holy than I? They have slain others; I have slain Surja Mukhi. If I had ruled my passions, would she have been brought to die such a death in a strange place? I am her murderer. What slayer of father, mother, or son, is a greater sinner than I? Was Surja Mukhi my wife only? She was my all. In relation a wife, in friendship a brother, in care a sister, abounding in hospitality, in love a mother, in devotion a daughter, in pleasure a friend, in counsel a teacher, in attendance a servant! My Surja Mukhi! who else possesses such a wife? A helper in domestic affairs, a fortune in the house, a religion in the heart, an ornament round the neck, the pupil of my eyes, the blood of my heart, the life of my body, the smile of my happiness, my comfort in dejection, the enlightener of my mind, my spur in work, the light of my eyes, the music of my ears, the breath of my life, the world to my touch! My present delight, the memory of my past, the hope of my future, my salvation in the next world! I am a swine--how should I recognize a pearl?" Suddenly it occurred to him that he was being borne in a palanquin at his ease, while Surja Mukhi had worn herself out by travelling on foot. At this thought Nagendra leaped from the palanquin and proceeded on foot, his bearers carrying the empty vehicle in the rear. When he reached the bazaar where he had arrived in the morning he dismissed the men with their palanquin, resolving to finish his journey on foot. "I will devote my life to expiating the death of Surja Mukhi. What expiation? All the joys of which Surja Mukhi was deprived in leaving her home, I will henceforth give up. Wealth, servants, friends, none of these will I retain. I will subject myself to all the sufferings she endured. From the day I leave Govindpur I will go on foot, live upon rice, sleep beneath a tree or in a hut. What further expiation? Whenever I see a helpless woman I will serve her to the utmost of my power. Of the wealth I reserve to myself I will take only enough to sustain life; the rest I will devote to the service of helpless women. Even of that portion of my wealth that I give to Satish, I will direct that half of it shall be devoted during my life to the support of destitute women. Expiation! Sin may be expiated, sorrow cannot be. The only expiation for sorrow is death. In dying, sorrow leaves you: why do I not seek that expiation?" Then covering his face with his hands, and remembering his Creator, Nagendra Natha put from him the desire to seek death. CHAPTER XXXI. THOUGH ALL ELSE DIES, SUFFERING DIES NOT. Srish Chandra was sitting alone in his _boita khana_ one evening, when Nagendra entered, carpet-bag in hand, and throwing the bag to a distance, silently took a seat. Srish Chandra, seeing his distressed and wearied condition, was alarmed, but knew not how to ask an explanation. He knew that Nagendra had received the _Brahmachari's_ letter at Benares, and had gone thence to Madhupur. As he saw that Nagendra would not begin to speak, Srish Chandra took his hand and said-- "Brother Nagendra, I am distressed to see you thus silent. Did you not go to Madhupur?" Nagendra only said, "I went." "Did you not meet the _Brahmachari_?" "No." "Did you find Surja Mukhi? Where is she?" Pointing upwards with his finger, Nagendra said, "In heaven." Both sat silent for some moments; then Nagendra, looking up, said, "You do not believe in heaven. I do." Srish Chandra knew that formerly Nagendra had not believed in a heaven, and understood why he now did so--understood that this heaven was the creation of love. Not being able to endure the thought that Surja Mukhi no longer existed, he said to himself, "She is in heaven," and in this thought found comfort. Still they remained silent, for Srish Chandra felt that this was not the time to offer consolation; that words from others would be as poison, their society also. So he went away to prepare a chamber for Nagendra. He did not venture to ask him to eat; he would leave that task to Kamal. But when Kamal Mani heard that Surja Mukhi was no more, she would undertake no duty. Leaving Satish Chandra, for that night she became invisible. The servants, seeing Kamal Mani bowed to the ground with hair unbound, left Satish and hurried to her. But Satish would not be left; he at first stood in silence by his weeping mother, and then, with his little finger under her chin, he tried to raise her face. Kamal looked up, but did not speak. Satish, wishing to comfort his mother, kissed her. Kamal caressed, but did not kiss him, nor did she speak. Satish put his hand on his mother's throat, crept into her lap, and began to cry. Except the Creator, who could enter into that child's heart and discern the cause of his crying? The unfortunate Srish Chandra, left to his own resources, took some food to Nagendra, who said: "I do not want food. Sit down, I have much to say to you; for that I came hither." He then related all that he had heard from Ram Kristo Rai, and detailed his designs for the future. After listening to the narration, Srish Chandra said: "It is surprising that you should not have met the _Brahmachari_, as it is only yesterday he left Calcutta for Madhupur in search of you." "What?" said Nagendra; "how did you meet with the _Brahmachari_?" "He is a very noble person," answered Srish. "Not receiving a reply to his letter to you, he went to Govindpur in search of you. There he learned that his letter would be sent on to Benares. This satisfied him, and without remark to any one he went on his business to Purushuttam. Returning thence, he again went to Govindpur. Still hearing nothing of you, he was informed that I might have news. He came to me the next day, and I showed him your letter. Yesterday he started for Govindpur, expecting to meet you last night at Ranigunj." "I was not at Ranigunj last night," said Nagendra. "Did he tell you anything of Surja Mukhi?" "I will tell you all that to-morrow," said Srish. "You think my suffering will be increased by hearing it. Tell me all," entreated Nagendra. Then Srish Chandra repeated what the _Brahmachari_ had told him of his meeting Surja Mukhi by the roadside, her illness, medical treatment, and improvement in health. Omitting many painful details, he concluded with the words: "Ram Kristo Kai did not relate all that Surja Mukhi had suffered." On hearing this, Nagendra rushed out of the house. Srish Chandra would have gone with him, but Nagendra would not allow it. The wretched man wandered up and down the road like a madman for hours. He wished to forget himself in the crowd, but at that time there was no crowd; and who can forget himself? Then he returned to the house, and sat down with Srish Chandra, to whom he said: "The _Brahmachari_ must have learned from her where she went, and what she did. Tell me all he said to you." "Why talk of it now?" said Srish; "take some rest." Nagendra frowned, and commanded Srish Chandra to speak. Srish perceived that Nagendra had become like a madman. His face was dark as a thunder-cloud. Afraid to oppose him, he consented to speak, and Nagendra's face relaxed. He began-- "Walking slowly from Govindpur, Surja Mukhi came first in this direction." "What distance did she walk daily?" interrupted Nagendra. "Two or three miles." "She did not take a farthing from home; how did she live?" "Some days fasting, some days begging--are you mad?" with these words Srish Chandra threatened Nagendra, who had clutched at his own throat as though to strangle himself, saying-- "If I die, shall I meet Surja Mukhi?" Srish Chandra held the hands of Nagendra, who then desired him to continue his narrative. "If you will not listen calmly, I will tell you no more," said Srish. But Nagendra heard no more; he had lost consciousness. With closed eyes he sought the form of the heaven-ascended Surja Mukhi; he saw her seated as a queen upon a jewelled throne. The perfumed wind played in her hair, all around flower-like birds sang with the voice of the lute; at her feet bloomed hundreds of red water-lilies; in the canopy of her throne a hundred moons were shining, surrounded by hundreds of stars. He saw himself in a place full of darkness, pain in all his limbs, demons inflicting blows upon him, Surja Mukhi forbidding them with her outstretched finger. With much difficulty Srish Chandra restored Nagendra to consciousness; whereupon Nagendra cried loudly-- "Surja Mukhi, dearer to me than life, where art thou?" At this cry, Srish Chandra, stupefied and frightened, sat down in silence. At length, recovering his natural state, Nagendra said, "Speak." "What can I say?" asked Srish. "Speak!" said Nagendra. "If you do not I shall die before your eyes." Then Srish said: "Surja Mukhi did not endure this suffering many days. A wealthy Brahman, travelling with his family, had to come as far as Calcutta by boat, on his way to Benares. One day as Surja Mukhi was lying under a tree on the river's bank, the Brahman family came there to cook. The _grihini_ entered into conversation with Surja Mukhi, and, pitying her condition, took her into the boat, as she had said that she also was going to Benares." "What is the name of that Brahman? where does he live?" asked Nagendra, thinking that by some means he would find out the man and reward him. He then bade Srish Chandra continue. "Surja Mukhi," continued Srish, "travelled as one of the family as far as Barhi; to Calcutta by boat, to Raniganj by rail, from Raniganj by bullock train--so far Surja Mukhi proceeded in comfort." "After that did the Brahman dismiss her?" asked Nagendra. "No," replied Srish; "Surja Mukhi herself took leave. She went no further than Benares. How many days could she go on without seeing you? With that purpose she returned from Barhi on foot." As Srish Chandra spoke tears came into his eyes, the sight of which was an infinite comfort to Nagendra, who rested his head on the shoulder of Srish and wept. Since entering the house Nagendra had not wept, his grief had been beyond tears; but now the stream of sorrow found free vent. He cried like a boy, and his suffering was much lessened thereby. The grief that cannot weep is the messenger of death! As Nagendra became calmer, Srish Chandra said, "We will speak no more of this to-day." "What more is there to say?" said Nagendra. "The rest that happened I have seen with my own eyes. From Barhi she walked alone to Madhupur. From fatigue, fasting, sun, rain, despair, and grief, Surja Mukhi, seized by illness, fell to the ground ready to die." Srish Chandra was silent for a time; at length he said: "Brother, why dwell upon this an longer? You are not in fault; you did nothing to oppose or vex her. There is no cause to repent of that which has come about without fault of our own." Nagendra did not understand. He knew himself to blame for all. Why had he not torn up the seed of the poison tree from his heart? CHAPTER XXXII. THE FRUIT OF HIRA'S POISON TREE. Hira has sold her precious jewel in exchange for a cowrie. Virtue may be preserved with much pains for a long time; yet a day's carelessness may lose it. So it was with Hira. The wealth to gain which she had sold her precious jewel was but a broken shell; for such love as Debendra's is like the bore in the river, as muddy as transient. In three days the flood subsided, and Hira was left in the mud. As the miser, or the man greedy of fame, having long preserved his treasure, at the marriage of a son, or some other festival, spends all in one day's enjoyment, Hira, who had so long preserved her chastity, had now lost it for a day's delight, and like the ruined miser was left standing in the path of endless regret. Abandoned by Debendra, as a boy throws away an unripe mango not to his taste, Hira at first suffered frightfully. It was not only that she had been cast adrift by Debendra, but that, having been degraded and wounded by him, she had sunk to so low a position among women. It was this she found so unendurable. When, in her last interview, embracing Debendra's feet, she had said, "Do not cast me off!" he had replied, "It has only been in the hope of obtaining Kunda Nandini that I have honoured you so long. If you can secure me her society I will continue to live with you; otherwise not. I have given you the fitting reward of your pride; now, with the ink of this stain upon you, you may go home." Everything seemed dark around Hira in her anger. When her head ceased to swim she stood in front of Debendra, her brows knitted, her eyes inflamed, and as with a hundred tongues she gave vent to her temper. Abuse such as the foulest women use she poured upon him, till he, losing patience, kicked her out of the pleasure-garden. Hira was a sinner; Debendra a sinner and a brute. Thus ended the promise of eternal love. Hira, thus abused, did not go home. In Govindpur there was a low-caste doctor who attended only low-caste people. He had no knowledge of treatment or of drugs; he knew only the poisonous pills by which life is destroyed. Hira knew that for the preparation of these pills he kept vegetable, mineral, snake, and other life-destroying poisons. That night she went to his house, and calling him aside said-- "I am troubled every day by a jackal who eats from my cooking-vessels. Unless I can kill this jackal I cannot remain here. If I mix some poison with the rice to-day he will eat it and die. You keep many poisons; can you sell me one that will instantly destroy life?" The _Chandal_ (outcast) did not believe the jackal story. He said-- "I have what you want, but I cannot sell it. Should I be known to sell poison the police would seize me." "Be not anxious about that," said Hira; "no one shall know that you have sold it. I will swear to you by my patron deity, and by the Ganges, if you wish. Give me enough to kill two jackals, and I will pay you fifty rupees." The _Chandal_ felt certain that a murder was intended, but he could not resist the fifty rupees, and consented to sell the poison. Hira fetched the money from her house and gave it to him. The _Chandal_ twisted up a pungent life-destroying poison in paper, and gave it to her. In departing, Hira said, "Mind you betray this to no one, else we shall both suffer." The _Chandal_ answered, "I do not even know you, mother." Thus freed from fear, Hira went home. When there she held the poison in her hand, weeping bitterly; then, wiping her eyes, she said-- "What fault have I committed that I should die? Why should I die without killing him who has struck me? I will not take this poison. He who has reduced me to this condition shall eat it, or, if not, I will give it to his beloved Kunda Nandini. After one of these two are dead, if necessary I also will take it." CHAPTER XXXIII. HIRA'S GRANDMOTHER. "Hira's old grandmother Walks about picking up A basket of cowdung. With her teeth cracking pebbles. Eating _jak_ fruit by the hundred." Hira's grandmother hobbled along with the help of a stick, followed by boys reciting the above unrivalled verses, clapping their hands and dancing as they went. Whether any special taunt was meant by these verses is doubtful, but the old woman became furious, and desired the boys to go to destruction, wishing that their fathers might eat refuse (a common form of abuse). This was a daily occurrence. Arriving at the door of Nagendra's house, the grandmother escaped from her enemies, who at sight of the fierce black moustaches of the _durwans_ fled from the battlefield, one crying-- "Bama Charn Dobé Goes to bed early, And when the thief comes he runs away." Another-- "Ram Sing Paré With a stick marches boldly, But at sight of a thief he flies to the tank." A third-- "Lal Chand Sing Doth briskly dance and sing, Is death on the food, But at work is no good." The boys fled, attacked by the _durwans_ with a shower of words not to be found in any dictionary. Hira's grandmother, plodding along, arrived at the dispensary attached to Nagendra's dwelling. Perceiving the doctor, she said, "Oh, father, where is the doctor, father?" "I am he." "Oh, father, I am getting blind. I am twenty-eight or eighty years old; how shall I speak of my troubles? I had a son; he is dead. I had a granddaughter; she also--" Here the old woman broke down, and began to whine like a cat. The doctor asked, "What has happened to you?" Without answering this question, the woman began to relate the history of her life; and when, amid much crying, she had finished, the doctor again asked, "What do you want now? What has happened to you?" Again she began the unequalled story of her life; but the doctor showing much impatience, she changed it for that of Hira, of Hira's mother, and Hira's husband. With much difficulty the doctor at last arrived at her meaning, to which all this talking and crying was quite irrelevant. The old woman desired some medicine for Hira. Her complaint, she said, was a species of lunacy. Before Hira's birth, her mother had been mad, had continued so for some time, and had died in that condition. Hira had not hitherto shown any sign of her mother's disorder; but now the old woman felt some doubts about her. Hira would now laugh, now weep, now, closing the door, she would dance. Sometimes she screamed, and sometimes became unconscious. Therefore her grandmother wanted medicine for her. After some reflection the doctor said, "Your daughter has hysteria." "Well, doctor, is there no medicine for that disease?" "Certainly there is: keep her very warm; take this dose of castor-oil, give it to her early to-morrow morning. Later I will come and give her another medicine." With the bottle of castor-oil in her hand, the old woman hobbled forth. On the road she was met by a neighbour, who said, "Oh, Hira's grandmother, what have you in your hand?" The old woman answered, "Hira has become hysterical; the doctor has given me some castor-oil for her; do you think that will be good for hysterics?" "It may be; castor-oil is the god of all. But what has made your granddaughter so jolly lately?" After much reflection the old woman said, "It is the fault of her age;" whereupon the neighbour prescribed a remedy, and they parted. On arriving at home, the old woman remembered that the doctor had said Hira must be kept warm; therefore she placed a pan of fire before her granddaughter. "Fire!" exclaimed Hira. "What is this for?" "The doctor told me to keep you warm," replied the old woman. CHAPTER XXXIV. A DARK HOUSE: A DARK LIFE. In the absence of Nagendra and Surja Mukhi from their spacious home, all was darkness therein. The clerks sat in the office, and Kunda Nandini dwelt in the inner apartments with the poor relations. But how can stars dispel the darkness of a moonless night? In the corners hung spiders' webs; in the rooms stood dust in heaps; pigeons built their nests in the cornices and sparrows in the beams. Heaps of withered leaves lay rotting in the garden; weeds grew over the tanks; the flower-beds were hidden by jungle. There were jackals in the court-yard, and rats in the granary; mould and fungus were everywhere to be seen; musk-rats and centipedes swarmed in the rooms; bats flew about night and day. Nearly all Surja Mukhi's pet birds had been eaten by cats; their soiled feathers lay scattered around. The ducks had been killed by the jackals, the peacocks had flown into the woods; the cows had become emaciated, and no longer gave milk. Nagendra's dogs had no spirit left in them, they neither played nor barked; they were never let loose; some had died, some had gone mad, some had escaped. The horses were diseased, or had become ill from want of work; the stables were littered with stubble, grass, and feathers. The horses were sometimes fed, sometimes neglected. The grooms were never to be found in the stables. The cornice of the house was broken in places, as were the sashes, the shutters, and the railings. The matting was soaked with rain; there was dust on the painted walls. Over the bookcases were the dwellings of insects; straws from the sparrows' nests on the glass of the chandeliers. In the house there was no mistress, and without a mistress paradise itself would be a ruin. As in an untended garden overgrown with grass a single rose or lily will bloom, so in this house Kunda Nandini lived alone. Wherever a few joined in a meal Kunda partook of it. If any one addressed her as house-mistress, Kunda thought, "They are mocking me." If the _Dewan_ sent to ask her about anything her heart beat with fear. There was a reason for this. As Nagendra did not write to Kunda, she had been accustomed to send to the _Dewan_ for the letters received by him. She did not return the letters, and she lived in fear that the _Dewan_ would claim them; and in fact the man no longer sent them to her, but only suffered her to read them as he held them in his hand. The suffering felt by Surja Mukhi was endured in equal measure by Kunda Nandini. Surja Mukhi loved her husband; did not Kunda love him? In that little heart there was inexhaustible love, and because it could find no expression, like obstructed breathing it wounded her heart. From childhood, before her first marriage, Kunda had loved Nagendra; she had told no one, no one knew it. She had had no desire to obtain Nagendra, no hope of doing so; her despair she had borne in silence. To have striven for it would have been like striving to reach the moon in the sky. Now where was that moon? For what fault had Nagendra thrust her from him? Kunda revolved these thoughts in her mind night and day; night and day she wept. Well! let Nagendra not love her. It was her good fortune to love him. Why might she not even see him? Nor that only: he regarded Kunda as the root of his troubles; every one considered her so. Kunda thought, "Why should I be blamed for all this?" In an evil moment Nagendra had married Kunda. As every one who sits under the upas-tree must die, so every one who had been touched by the shadow of this marriage was ruined. Then again Kunda thought, "Surja Mukhi has come to this condition through me. Surja Mukhi protected me, loved me as a sister; I have made her a beggar by the roadside. Who is there more unfortunate than I? Why did I not die by the roadside? Why do I not die now? I will not die now; let him come, let me see him again. Will he not come?" Kunda had not received the news of Surja Mukhi's death, therefore she thought, "What is the use of dying now? Should Surja Mukhi return, then I will die; I will no longer be a thorn in her path." CHAPTER XXXV. THE RETURN. The work required to be done in Calcutta was finished. The deed of gift was drawn up. In it special rewards were indicated for the _Brahmachari_ and the unknown Brahman. The deed would have to be registered at Haripur, therefore Nagendra went to Govindpur, taking it with him. He had instructed his brother-in-law to follow. Srish Chandra had striven to prevent his executing this deed, also to restrain him from making the journey on foot, but in vain. His efforts thus defeated, he followed by boat; and as Kamal Mani could not endure to be parted from her husband, she and Satish simply accompanied him without asking any questions. When Kunda saw Kamal Mani she thought that once more a star had risen in the sky. Since the flight of Surja Mukhi, Kamal's anger against Kunda had been inflexible; she had always refused to see her. But now, at the sight of Kunda's emaciated figure, Kamal's anger departed. She endeavoured to cheer her with the news that Nagendra was coming, which brought a smile to the girl's face; but at the news of Surja Mukhi's death Kunda Nandini wept. Many fair readers will smile at this, thinking, "The cat weeps over the death of the fish." But Kunda was very stupid; that she had cause to rejoice never entered her head: this silly woman actually cried over her rival's death. Kamal Mani not only cheered Kunda, she herself felt comforted. She had already wept much, and now she began to think, "What is the use of weeping? If I do, Srish Chandra will be miserable and Satish will cry. Weeping will not bring back Surja Mukhi." So she gave up weeping, and became her natural self. Kamal Mani said to Srish Chandra, "The goddess of this paradise has abandoned it; when my brother comes he will have only a bed of straw to lie upon." They resolved to put the place in order; so the coolies, the lamp cleaners, and the gardeners were set to work. Under Kamal Mani's vigorous treatment the musk-rats, bats, and mice, departed squeaking; the pigeons flew from cornice to cornice; the sparrows fled in distress. Where the windows were closed, the sparrows, taking them for open doorways, pecked at them with their beaks till they were ready to drop. The women-servants, broom in hand, were victorious everywhere. Before long the place again wore a smiling appearance, and at length Nagendra arrived. It was evening. As a river courses swiftly when at flood, but at ebb the deep water is calm, so Nagendra's violent grief was now changed into a quiet gravity. His sorrow was not lessened, but he was no longer restless. In a quiet manner he conversed with the household, making inquiries from each one. In the presence of none of them did he mention the name of Surja Mukhi, but all were grieved at the sorrow expressed by his grave countenance. The old servants, saluting him, went aside and wept. One person only did Nagendra wound. With the long-sorrowing Kunda he did not speak. By the orders of Nagendra the servants prepared his bed in Surja Mukhi's room. At this order Kamal Mani shook her head. At midnight, when all the household had retired, Nagendra went to Surja Mukhi's chamber, not to lie down, but to weep. Surja Mukhi's room was spacious and beautiful; it was the temple of all Nagendra's joys, therefore he had adorned it with care. The room was wide and lofty, the floor inlaid with white and black marble, the walls painted in floral designs, blue, yellow, and red. Above the flowers hovered various birds. On one side stood a costly bedstead, beautifully carved and inlaid with ivory; elsewhere, seats in variously coloured coverings, a large mirror, and other suitable furniture. Some pictures, not English, hung upon the walls. Surja Mukhi and Nagendra together had chosen the subjects, and caused them to be painted by a native artist, who had been taught by an Englishman, and could draw well. Nagendra had framed the pictures handsomely, and hung them on the walls. One picture was taken from the Birth of Kartika: Siva, sunk in meditation, on the summit of the hill; Nandi at the door of the arbour. On the left Hembatra, finger on lip, is hushing the sounds of the garden. All is still, the bees hid among the leaves, the deer reposing. At this moment Madan (Cupid) enters to interrupt the meditation of Siva; with him comes Spring. In advance, Parvati, wreathed with flowers, has come to salute Siva. Uma's joyous face is bent in salutation, one knee resting on the earth. This is the position depicted in the painting. As she bends her head, one or two flowers escape from the wreaths fastened in her hair. In the distance Cupid, half hidden by the woods, one knee touching earth, his beauteous bow bent, is fitting to it the flower-wreathed arrow. In another picture, Ram, returning from Lanka with Janaki, both sitting in a jewelled chariot, is coursing through the sky. Ram has one hand on the shoulders of Janaki, with the other is pointing out the beauties of the earth below. Around the chariot many-coloured clouds, blue, red, and white, sail past in purple waves. Below, the broad blue ocean heaves its billows, shining like heaps of diamonds in the sun's rays. In the distance, opal-crowned Lanka, its rows of palaces like golden peaks in the sun's light; the opposite shore beautiful with tamal and palm trees. In the mid distance flocks of swans are flying. Another picture represents Subhadra with Arjuna in the chariot. Countless Yadav soldiers, their flags streaming out against the gloomy sky, are running after the chariot. Subhadra herself is driving, the horses grinding the clouds with their hoofs. Subhadra, proud of her skill, is looking round towards Arjuna, biting her lower lip with her ivory teeth, her hair streaming in the chariot-created wind; two or three braids moistened with perspiration lie in a curve on her temples. In another, Sakuntala, with the desire of seeing Dushmanta, is pretending to take a thorn from her foot. Anasuya and Priamboda are smiling. Sakuntala, between anger and shame will not raise her face. She cannot look at Dushmanta, nor yet can she leave the spot. In another, Prince Abhimaya, armed for battle, and, like the young lion, eager for glory, is taking leave of Uttora that he may go to the field. Uttora, saying that she will not let him go, is standing against the closed door weeping, with her hands over her eyes. It was past twelve when Nagendra entered the room. The night was fearful. Late in the evening some rain had fallen; now the wind had risen and was blowing fiercely, the rain continuing at intervals. Wherever the shutters were not fastened they flapped to and fro with the noise of thunder-claps, the sashes rattling continuously. When Nagendra closed the door the noise was less noticeable. There was another door near the bedstead, but as the wind did not blow in that direction he left it open. Nagendra sat on the sofa, weeping bitterly. How often had he sat there with Surja Mukhi; what pleasant talks they had had! Again and again Nagendra embraced that senseless seat; then raising his face he looked at the pictures so dear to Surja Mukhi. In the fitful light of the lamp the figures in the pictures seemed to be alive; in each picture Nagendra saw Surja Mukhi. He remembered that one day she expressed a wish to be decked with flowers like Uma in the picture. He had gone forth, brought in flowers from the garden, and with them decked her person. What beauty decked with jewels had ever felt the pleasure felt by Surja Mukhi at that moment? Another day she had desired to drive Nagendra's carriage in imitation of Subhadra; whereupon he had brought a small carriage drawn by ponies to the inner garden. They both got in, Surja Mukhi taking the reins; like Subhadra, she turned her face towards Nagendra, biting her lower lip and laughing. The ponies, taking advantage of her inattention, went through an open gate into the road. Then Surja Mukhi, afraid of being seen by the people, drew her _sari_ over her face, and Nagendra, seeing her distress, took the reins and brought the carriage back into the garden. They went into the chamber laughing over the adventure, and Surja Mukhi shook her fist at Subhadra in the picture, saying, "You are the cause of this misfortune." How bitterly Nagendra wept over this remembrance! Unable longer to endure his suffering he walked about; but look where he would there were signs of Surja Mukhi. On the wall where the artist had drawn twining plants she had sketched a copy of one of them; the sketch remained there still. One day during the Dol festival she had thrown a ball of red powder at her husband; she had missed her aim and struck the wall, where still the stain was visible. When the room was finished, Surja Mukhi had written in one spot-- "In the year 1910 of Vikramaditya This room was prepared For my Guardian Deity, my husband, By his servant SURJA MUKHI." Nagendra read this inscription repeatedly. He could not satisfy his desire to read it. Though the tears filled his eyes so that he could not see, he would not desist. As he read he perceived the light becoming dim, and found the lamp ready to expire. With a sigh he laid down; but scarcely had he done so ere the wind began to rage furiously. The lamp, void of oil, was on the point of extinction, only a faint spark like that of a firefly remained. In that dim light a remarkable circumstance occurred. Astonished by the noise of the shutters, Nagendra looked towards the door near the bed. In that open doorway, shown by the dim light, a shadowy form appeared. The shape was that of a woman; but what he saw further made his hair stand on end, he trembled from head to foot. The woman's face had the features of Surja Mukhi! Nagendra started to his feet and hastened to the figure. But the light went out, the form became invisible; with a loud cry Nagendra fell senseless to the ground. When Nagendra recovered consciousness thick darkness filled the room. By degrees he collected his senses. As he remembered what had caused the swoon, surprise was added to surprise. He had fallen senseless on the floor, then whence came the pillow on which his head was resting? Was it a pillow? or was it the lap of some one--of Kunda Nandini? To solve his doubt he said, "Who are you?" But the supporter of his head made no reply. Only a hot drop or two fell on his forehead, by which he understood that the person was weeping. He tried to identify the person by touch. Suddenly he became quite bewildered; he remained motionless for some moments, then with labouring breath raised his head and sat up. The rain had ceased, the clouds had disappeared, light began to peep into the room. Nagendra rose and seated himself. He perceived that the woman had also risen, and was slowly making towards the door. Then Nagendra guessed that it was not Kunda Nandini. There was not light enough to recognize any one, but something might be guessed from form and gait. Nagendra studied these for a moment, then falling at the feet of the standing figure, in troubled tones he said-- "Whether thou art a god or a human being, I am at thy feet; speak to me, or I shall die!" What the woman said he could not understand, but no sooner had the sound of her voice entered his ear than he sprang to his feet and tried to grasp the form. But mind and body again became benumbed, and, like the creeper from the tree, he sank at the feet of the enchantress; he could not speak. Again the woman, sitting down, took his head upon her lap. When Nagendra once more recovered from stupor it was day. The birds were singing in the adjacent garden. The rays of the newly risen sun were shining into the room. Without raising his eyes Nagendra said-- "Kunda, when did you come? This whole night I have been dreaming of Surja Mukhi. In my dream I saw myself with my head on Surja Mukhi's lap. If you could be Surja Mukhi, how joyful it would be!" The woman answered, "If it would delight you so much to see that unhappy being, then I am she." Nagendra started up, wiped his eyes, sat holding his temples, again rubbed his eyes and gazed; then bowing his head, he said in a low voice-- "Am I demented, or is Surja Mukhi living? Is this the end of my destiny, that I should go mad?" Then the woman, clasping his feet, wept over them, saying, "Arise, arise, my all! I have suffered so much. To-day all my sorrow is ended. I am not dead. Again I have come to serve you." Could delusion last longer? Nagendra embraced Surja Mukhi, and laid his head upon her breast. Together they wept; but how joyous was that weeping! CHAPTER XXXVI. EXPLANATION. In due time Surja Mukhi satisfied Nagendra's inquiries, saying-- "I did not die. What the _Kabiraj_ said of my dying was not true. He did not know. When I had become strong through his treatment, I was extremely anxious to come to Govindpur to see you. I teased the _Brahmachari_ till he consented to take me. On arriving here, we learned you were not in the place. The _Brahmachari_ took me to a spot six miles from here, placed me in the house of a Brahmin to attend on his daughter, and then went in search of you: first to Calcutta, where he had an interview with Srish Chandra, from whom he heard that you were gone to Madhupur. At that place he learned that on the day we left Haro Mani's house it was burned, and Haro Mani in it. In the morning people could not recognize the body. They reasoned that as of the two people in the house one was sick and one was well, that the former could not have escaped from want of strength; therefore that Haro Mani must have escaped and the dead person must be myself. What was at first a supposition became established by report. Ram Krishna heard the report, and repeated it to you. The _Brahmachari_ heard all this, and also that you had been there, had heard of my death, and had come hither. He came after you, arriving last night at Protappur. I also heard that in a day or two you were expected home. In that belief I came here the day before yesterday. It does not trouble me now to walk a few miles. As you had not come I went back, saw the _Brahmachari_, and returned yesterday, arriving at one this morning. The window being open, I entered the house and hid under the stairs without being seen. When all slept I ascended; I thought you would certainly sleep in this room. I peeped in, and saw you sitting with your head in your hands. I longed to throw myself at your feet, but I feared you would not forgive my sin against you, so I refrained. From within the window I looked, thinking, 'Now I will let him see me.' I came in, but you fell senseless, and since then I have sat with your head on my lap. I knew not that such joy was in my destiny. But, fie! you love me not; when you put your hand upon me you did not recognize me! I should have known you by your breath." CHAPTER XXXVII. THE SIMPLETON AND THE SERPENT. While in the sleeping--chamber, bathed in a sea of joy, Nagendra and Surja Mukhi held loving converse, in another apartment of that same house a fatal dialogue was being held. Before relating it, it is necessary to record what occurred on the previous night. As we know, Nagendra had held no converse with Kunda Nandini on his return. In her own room, with her head on the pillow, Kunda had wept the whole night, not the easy tears of girlhood, but from a mortal wound. Whosoever in childhood has in all sincerity delivered the priceless treasure of her heart to any one, and has in exchange received only neglect, can imagine the piercing pain of that weeping. "Why have I preserved my life," she asked herself, "with the desire to see my husband? Now what happiness remains to be hoped for?" With the dawn sleep came, and in that sleep, for the second time, a frightful vision. The bright figure assuming the form of her mother, which she had seen four years before by her dead father's bedside, now appeared above Kunda's head; but this time it was not surrounded by a shining halo, it descended upon a dense cloud ready to fall in rain. From the midst of the thick cloud another face smiled, while every now and then flashes of lightning broke forth. Kunda perceived with alarm that the incessantly smiling face resembled that of Hira, while her mother's compassionate countenance was very grave. The mother said: "Kunda, when I came before you did not listen, you did not come with me; now you see what trouble has befallen you." Kunda wept. The mother continued: "I told you I would come once more, and here I am. If now you are satisfied with the joy that the world can give, come with me." "Take me with you, mother; I do not desire to stay here longer." The mother, much pleased, repeated, "Come, then!" and vanished from sight. Kunda woke, and, remembering her vision, desired of the gods that this time her dream might be fulfilled. At dawn, when Hira entered the room to wait upon Kunda, she perceived that the girl was crying. Since the arrival of Kamal Mani, Hira had resumed a respectful demeanour towards Kunda, because she heard that Nagendra was returning. As though in atonement for her past behaviour, Hira became even more obedient and affectionate than formerly. Any one else would have easily penetrated this craftiness, but Kunda was unusually simple, and easily appeased. She felt no suspicion of this new affection; she imagined Hira to be sour-tempered, but not unfaithful. The woman said-- "Why do you weep, _Ma Thakurani?_" Kunda did not speak, but only looked at Hira, who saw that her eyes were swollen and the pillow soaked. "What is this? you have been crying all night. Has the Babu said anything to you?" "Nothing," said Kunda, sobbing with greater violence than before. Hira's heart swam with joy at the sight of Kunda's distress. With a melancholy face she asked-- "Has the Babu had any talk with you since he came home? I am only a servant, you need not mind telling me." "I have had no talk with him." "How is that, Ma? After so many days' absence has he nothing to say to you?" "He has not been near me," and with these words fresh tears burst forth. Hira was delighted. She said, smiling, "Ma, why do you weep in this way? Many people are over head and ears in trouble, yet you cry incessantly over one sorrow. If you had as much to bear as I have, you would have destroyed yourself before this time." Suicide! this disastrous word struck heavily on the ear of Kunda; shuddering, she sat down. During the night she had frequently contemplated this step, and these words from Hira's mouth seemed to confirm her purpose. Hira continued: "Now hear what my troubles are. I also loved a man more than my own life. He was not my husband, but why should I hide my sin from my mistress? it is better to confess it plainly." These shameless words did not enter Kunda's ear; in it the word "suicide" was repeating itself, as though a demon kept whispering, "Would it not be better for you to destroy yourself than to endure this misery?" Hira continued: "He was not my husband, but I loved him better than the best husband. I knew he did not love me; he loved another sinner, a hundred times less attractive than I." At this point, Hira cast a sharp, angry glance from under her eyelids at Kunda, then went on: "Knowing this, I did not run after him, but one day we were both wicked." Beginning thus, Hira briefly related the terrible history. She mentioned no name, neither that of Debendra nor that of Kunda. She said nothing from which it could be inferred whom she had loved, or who was beloved by him. At length, after speaking of the abuse she had received, she said-- "Now what do you suppose I did?" "What did you do?" "I went to a _Kabiraj_. He has all sorts of poisons by which life can be destroyed." In low tones Kunda said, "After that?" "I intended to kill myself. I bought some poison, but afterwards I thought, 'Why should I die for another?' so I have kept the poison in a box." Hira brought from the corner of the room a box in which she kept the treasures received as rewards from her employers, and also what she got by less fair means. Opening it, she showed the poison to Kunda, who eyed it as a cat does cream. Then Hira, leaving the box open as though from absence of mind, began to console Kunda. At this moment, suddenly, in the early dawn, sounds of happiness and rejoicing were heard in the household. Hira darted forth in astonishment. The ill-fated Kunda Nandini seized the opportunity to steal the poison from the box. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE CATASTROPHE. Hira could not at first understand the cause of the joyous sounds she heard. She saw in one of the large rooms all the women of the house, the boys and the girls surrounding some one and making a great noise. Of the person surrounded, Hira could see nothing but the hair, which Kousalya and the other attendants were dressing with scented oil and arranging becomingly. Of the by-standers encircling them some were laughing, some weeping, some talking, some uttering blessings. The girls and boys were dancing, singing, and clapping their hands. Kamal Mani was going round directing that shells should be blown and other joyous demonstrations, laughing, crying, and even dancing. Hira was astonished. Stepping into the throng, she stretched her neck and peeped about. What were her feelings on beholding Surja Mukhi seated on the floor, a loving smile upon her lips; submitting to be decked with all her ornaments, so long laid aside, speaking kindly to all, a little shamefaced. Hira could not all at once believe that Surja Mukhi who had died was now amongst them smiling so pleasantly. Stammeringly she asked one of the throng of women, "Who is that?" Kousalya heard the question, and answered, "Don't you know? The goddess of our house, and your executioner." Kousalya had lived all this time in fear of Hira. Now in her day of triumph she vented her spleen. The dressing being completed and all kindly greetings exchanged, Surja Mukhi said in a low voice to Kamal Mani, "Let us go and see Kunda. She is not guilty of any fault towards me. I am not angry with her; she is now my younger sister." Only they two went. They were long away. At last Kamal Mani came out of Kunda's room with a countenance full of fear and distress, and in great haste sent for Nagendra. On his arrival the ladies told him he was wanted in Kunda's room. At the door he met Surja Mukhi weeping. "What has happened?" he asked. "Destruction! I have long known I was destined not to have a single day of happiness, else how is it that in the first moment of joy this calamity comes upon me?" "What has happened?" "I brought up Kunda to womanhood, and now that I have come hither with the desire to cherish her as my little sister, my desire has turned to ashes: Kunda has taken poison!" "What do you say?" "Do you remain with her. I will go for a doctor." Surja Mukhi went on her errand, and Nagendra to Kunda's room alone. He found Kunda's face darkened, her eyes lustreless, her body relaxed. CHAPTER XXXIX. KUNDA'S TONGUE IS LOOSENED. Kunda Nandini was seated on the floor, her head resting against the the bed-post. At sight of Nagendra the tears came into her eyes. As he stood beside her, Kunda, like a severed branch of a twining plant, laid her head at his feet. In a stifled voice he said-- "What is this, Kunda? for what fault are you leaving me?" Kunda had not been used to answer her husband, but now, at her last hour, her tongue was loosened. She said, "For what fault did you leave me?" Silenced, Nagendra sat beside Kunda with bent head. She went on: "If on coming home yesterday you had called for me, if you had once come and sat by me in this way, I had not died. I have had you but a short time, even to day my desire to see you is not satisfied. I would not have died." At these loving, heart-piercing words, Nagendra let his head fall upon his knees, and remained speechless. Then Kunda spoke again. To day she was eloquent, for it was her last day with her husband. She said, "Fie! do not sit thus silent; if I see not your face smiling as I die, I shall not die happy." Surja Mukhi also had thus spoken. In death all are equal. Struck to the heart, Nagendra said in troubled tones, "Why have you done this? Why did you not send for me?" Kunda, with many a smile transient as a flash of lightning, said, "Think not of that; what I said, I said in the hurry of my mind. Before you came I had determined that after I had seen you I would die. I had resolved that if the _Didi_ (Surja Mukhi) returned, I would leave you with her and die. I would no longer be a thorn in her path of happiness. I had determined to die, but on seeing you I was not willing." Nagendra made no answer. To-day he was without reply to the formerly speechless Kunda Nandini. Kunda remained silent for some time; she was losing the power of speech, death was taking possession. Then Nagendra saw the death-shadowed face full of love. Its gentle light shining in her troubled face, remained stamped on Nagendra's heart to his latest day. After a rest, she said, with great difficulty-- "My thirst for speech has not been satisfied. I knew you to be a god; I never had the courage to speak, my desire was not extinguished. Death is approaching, my mouth is dry, my tongue falters, I have no more time." She rested her head upon Nagendra, closed her eyes, and remained speechless. The doctor came but he gave her no medicine. Seeing that there was no hope, he withdrew with a sad countenance. Feeling that the last hour was come, Kunda wished to see Surja Mukhi and Kamal Mani. Both came; Kunda took the dust from their feet, they weeping loudly. Then Kunda hid her face between her husband's feet. She spoke no more, consciousness gradually departed. Her face lying on her husband's feet, the youthful Kunda Nandini's spirit departed, the blooming flower died. Surja Mukhi, checking her sobs, looked at her dead companion-wife, and said, "May thy happy fate be mine; may I die thus, my head on my husband's feet." Then taking her weeping husband's hand, she led him away. Afterwards, Nagendra, recovering his firmness, took Kunda to the riverside, performed the last rites, and bade farewell to the lovely form. CHAPTER XL. THE END. After Kunda Nandini's death, people asked where she obtained the poison, and all began to suspect that it was Hira's work. Nagendra directed that Hira should be called, but she was not to be found; since Kunda's death she had disappeared. From that time no one ever saw Hira in that part of the country; her name was no longer heard in Govindpur. Once only, a year later, she showed herself to Debendra. The poison tree planted by Debendra had by that time borne fruit; he was seized with a malignant disease, and as he did not cease drinking, the disease became incurable. During the first year after Kunda's death, Debendra's summons came. Two or three days before his death, as he lay on his bed without power to rise, there suddenly arose a great noise at the door. In answer to Debendra's inquiries, the servant said, "A mad woman wants to see you, sir; she will not be forbidden." He gave orders that she should be admitted. The woman appeared. Debendra saw that she was reduced by want, but observed no sign of madness; he thought her a wretched beggar-woman. She was young, and retained the signs of former beauty, but now she was a sight indeed. Her apparel soiled, ragged, patched, and so scanty that it barely reached her knees, while her back and head remained uncovered; her hair unkempt, dishevelled, covered with dust and matted together; her body never oiled, withered-looking, covered with mud. As she approached, she cast so wild a glance on Debendra that he saw the servants were right--she was truly a mad-woman. After gazing at him some time, she said, "Do you not know me? I am Hira." Recognizing her, Debendra asked in astonishment, "Who has brought you to this condition?" Hira, with a glance full of rage, biting her lip and clenching her fist, approached to strike Debendra; but restraining herself she said, "Ask again who has brought me to this condition: this is your doing. You don't know me now, but once you took your pleasure of me. You don't remember it, but one day you sang this song"--bursting forth into a love-song. In this manner reminding him of many things, she said: "On the day you drove me out I became mad. I went to take poison. Then a thought of delight came to me; instead of taking it myself, I would cause either you or Kunda Nandini to do so. In that hope I hid my illness for a time; it comes and goes; when it was on me I stayed at home, when well I worked. Finally, having poisoned your Kunda, my trouble was soothed; but after seeing her death my illness increased. Finding that I could not hide it any longer, I left the place. Now I have no food. Who gives food to a mad woman? Since then I have begged. When well I beg; when the disease presses I stay under a tree. Hearing of your approaching death, I have come to delight myself in seeing you. I give you my blessing, that even hell may find no place for you." Thus saying, the mad-woman uttered a loud laugh. Alarmed, Debendra moved to the other side of the bed; then Hira danced out of the house, singing the old love-song. From that time Debendra's bed of death was full of thorns. He died delirious, uttering words of the love-song. After his death the night-watch heard with a beating heart the familiar strain from the mad-woman in the garden. The "Poison Tree" is finished. We trust it will yield nectar in many a house. * * * * * GLOSSARY OF HINDU WORDS. _Attar_. Commonly called in England _Otto_ of Roses. _Bari_. The Hindu home. _Bhagirati_. A river, branch of the Ganges. _Boiragi_. A religious devotee. _Boisnavi_. A female mendicant; a votary of Vishnu. _Boroari_. A Hindu festival. _Boita khana_. The sitting-room of the male members of the household, and their guests. _Bonti_. A fish knife. _Bou_. The wife. _Brahmachari_. A student of the Vedas. _Brahman_. An officiating Hindu priest _Brahmo Somaj_. The church of the Theistic sect or Brahmos. _Dada Babu_. Elder brother. _Dahuk_. A bird of the Crane species. _Didi_. Elder sister. _Duftur Khana_. Accountant's office. _Durga_. A Hindu goddess. _Darwan_. A doorkeeper. _Ghat_. Landing steps to a river or tank. _Ghi_. Clarified butter. _Gomashta_. Factor or agent; a rent-collector. _Grihini_. The house-mistress. _Ganga_. The river Ganges. _Joisto_. The Hindu month corresponding to May--June. _Kabiraj_. A Hindu physician. _Kacheri_. Courthouse, or Revenue-office. _Kayasta_. The writer caste. _Khansamah_. A Mahommedan butler. _Korta_. The master of the house. _Ma Thakurani_. A title of respect to the mistress. _Mahal_. A division of a house. _Malini_. A flower girl. _Manji_. A boatman. _Naib_. A deputy, representing the Zemindar. _Pandit_. A learned Brahman. _Papiya_. A bird. _Puja_. Hindu worship. _Puja Mahal_. The division of the house devoted to worship. _Pardah_. A screen or curtain. _Ryot_. A tiller of the soil. _Sari_. A woman's garment. _Shastras_. Hindu sacred books. _Shradda_. An obsequial ceremony, in which food and water are offered to deceased ancestors. _Siva_. A Hindu Cod. _Sraban_. The Hindu months corresponding to July--August. _Talao_. A tank or enclosed pond _Thakur_. The Deity; sometimes applied as a title of honour to the master of the house. _Thakur Ban_. The chamber occupied by the family deity. _Tulsi_. A plant held sacred by the Hindus. _Zemindar_. A landholder. _Zillah_. A district or local division. * * * * * 
16659	----	EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS POETRY AND THE DRAMA KALIDASA TRANSLATIONS OF SHAKUNTALA & OTHER WORKS BY ARTHUR W. RYDER THIS IS NO. 629 OF _EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY_. THE PUBLISHERS WILL BE PLEASED TO SEND FREELY TO ALL APPLICANTS A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED AND PROJECTED VOLUMES ARRANGED UNDER THE FOLLOWING SECTIONS: TRAVEL · SCIENCE · FICTION THEOLOGY & PHILOSOPHY HISTORY · CLASSICAL FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ESSAYS · ORATORY POETRY & DRAMA BIOGRAPHY REFERENCE ROMANCE THE ORDINARY EDITION IS BOUND IN CLOTH WITH GILT DESIGN AND COLOURED TOP. THERE IS ALSO A LIBRARY EDITION IN REINFORCED CLOTH LONDON: J.M. DENT & SONS LTD. NEW YORK: E.P. DUTTON & CO. [Illustration: KALIDASA TRANSLATIONS _of_ SHAKUNTALA AND OTHER WORKS, BY ARTHUR. W. RYDER. UNIVERSITY _of_ CALIFORNIA LONDON & TORONTO PUBLISHED BY J.M. DENT &. SONS LTD & IN NEW YORK BY E.P. DUTTON &. CO] [Illustration: #Poets are the trumpets which sing to battle poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world# Shelley] FIRST ISSUE OF THIS EDITION 1912 REPRINTED 1920, 1928 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN INTRODUCTION KALIDASA--HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS I Kalidasa probably lived in the fifth century of the Christian era. This date, approximate as it is, must yet be given with considerable hesitation, and is by no means certain. No truly biographical data are preserved about the author, who nevertheless enjoyed a great popularity during his life, and whom the Hindus have ever regarded as the greatest of Sanskrit poets. We are thus confronted with one of the remarkable problems of literary history. For our ignorance is not due to neglect of Kalidasa's writings on the part of his countrymen, but to their strange blindness in regard to the interest and importance of historic fact. No European nation can compare with India in critical devotion to its own literature. During a period to be reckoned not by centuries but by millenniums, there has been in India an unbroken line of savants unselfishly dedicated to the perpetuation and exegesis of the native masterpieces. Editions, recensions, commentaries abound; poets have sought the exact phrase of appreciation for their predecessors: yet when we seek to reconstruct the life of their greatest poet, we have no materials except certain tantalising legends, and such data as we can gather from the writings of a man who hardly mentions himself. One of these legends deserves to be recounted for its intrinsic interest, although it contains, so far as we can see, no grain of historic truth, and although it places Kalidasa in Benares, five hundred miles distant from the only city in which we certainly know that he spent a part of his life. According to this account, Kalidasa was a Brahman's child. At the age of six months he was left an orphan and was adopted by an ox-driver. He grew to manhood without formal education, yet with remarkable beauty and grace of manner. Now it happened that the Princess of Benares was a blue-stocking, who rejected one suitor after another, among them her father's counsellor, because they failed to reach her standard as scholars and poets. The rejected counsellor planned a cruel revenge. He took the handsome ox-driver from the street, gave him the garments of a savant and a retinue of learned doctors, then introduced him to the princess, after warning him that he was under no circumstances to open his lips. The princess was struck with his beauty and smitten to the depths of her pedantic soul by his obstinate silence, which seemed to her, as indeed it was, an evidence of profound wisdom. She desired to marry Kalidasa, and together they went to the temple. But no sooner was the ceremony performed than Kalidasa perceived an image of a bull. His early training was too much for him; the secret came out, and the bride was furious. But she relented in response to Kalidasa's entreaties, and advised him to pray for learning and poetry to the goddess Kali. The prayer was granted; education and poetical power descended miraculously to dwell with the young ox-driver, who in gratitude assumed the name Kalidasa, servant of Kali. Feeling that he owed this happy change in his very nature to his princess, he swore that he would ever treat her as his teacher, with profound respect but without familiarity. This was more than the lady had bargained for; her anger burst forth anew, and she cursed Kalidasa to meet his death at the hands of a woman. At a later date, the story continues, this curse was fulfilled. A certain king had written a half-stanza of verse, and had offered a large reward to any poet who could worthily complete it. Kalidasa completed the stanza without difficulty; but a woman whom he loved discovered his lines, and greedy of the reward herself, killed him. Another legend represents Kalidasa as engaging in a pilgrimage to a shrine of Vishnu in Southern India, in company with two other famous writers, Bhavabhuti and Dandin. Yet another pictures Bhavabhuti as a contemporary of Kalidasa, and jealous of the less austere poet's reputation. These stories must be untrue, for it is certain that the three authors were not contemporary, yet they show a true instinct in the belief that genius seeks genius, and is rarely isolated. This instinctive belief has been at work with the stories which connect Kalidasa with King Vikramaditya and the literary figures of his court. It has doubtless enlarged, perhaps partly falsified the facts; yet we cannot doubt that there is truth in this tradition, late though it be, and impossible though it may ever be to separate the actual from the fanciful. Here then we are on firmer ground. King Vikramaditya ruled in the city of Ujjain, in West-central India. He was mighty both in war and in peace, winning especial glory by a decisive victory over the barbarians who pressed into India through the northern passes. Though it has not proved possible to identify this monarch with any of the known rulers, there can be no doubt that he existed and had the character attributed to him. The name Vikramaditya--Sun of Valour--is probably not a proper name, but a title like Pharaoh or Tsar. No doubt Kalidasa intended to pay a tribute to his patron, the Sun of Valour, in the very title of his play, _Urvashi won by Valour_. King Vikramaditya was a great patron of learning and of poetry. Ujjain during his reign was the most brilliant capital in the world, nor has it to this day lost all the lustre shed upon it by that splendid court. Among the eminent men gathered there, nine were particularly distinguished, and these nine are known as the "nine gems." Some of the nine gems were poets, others represented science--astronomy, medicine, lexicography. It is quite true that the details of this late tradition concerning the nine gems are open to suspicion, yet the central fact is not doubtful: that there was at this time and place a great quickening of the human mind, an artistic impulse creating works that cannot perish. Ujjain in the days of Vikramaditya stands worthily beside Athens, Rome, Florence, and London in their great centuries. Here is the substantial fact behind Max Müller's often ridiculed theory of the renaissance of Sanskrit literature. It is quite false to suppose, as some appear to do, that this theory has been invalidated by the discovery of certain literary products which antedate Kalidasa. It might even be said that those rare and happy centuries that see a man as great as Homer or Vergil or Kalidasa or Shakespeare partake in that one man of a renaissance. It is interesting to observe that the centuries of intellectual darkness in Europe have sometimes coincided with centuries of light in India. The Vedas were composed for the most part before Homer; Kalidasa and his contemporaries lived while Rome was tottering under barbarian assault. To the scanty and uncertain data of late traditions may be added some information about Kalidasa's life gathered from his own writings. He mentions his own name only in the prologues to his three plays, and here with a modesty that is charming indeed, yet tantalising. One wishes for a portion of the communicativeness that characterises some of the Indian poets. He speaks in the first person only once, in the verses introductory to his epic poem _The Dynasty of Raghu_[1]. Here also we feel his modesty, and here once more we are balked of details as to his life. We know from Kalidasa's writings that he spent at least a part of his life in the city of Ujjain. He refers to Ujjain more than once, and in a manner hardly possible to one who did not know and love the city. Especially in his poem _The Cloud-Messenger_ does he dwell upon the city's charms, and even bids the cloud make a détour in his long journey lest he should miss making its acquaintance.[2] We learn further that Kalidasa travelled widely in India. The fourth canto of _The Dynasty of Raghu_ describes a tour about the whole of India and even into regions which are beyond the borders of a narrowly measured India. It is hard to believe that Kalidasa had not himself made such a "grand tour"; so much of truth there may be in the tradition which sends him on a pilgrimage to Southern India. The thirteenth canto of the same epic and _The Cloud-Messenger_ also describe long journeys over India, for the most part through regions far from Ujjain. It is the mountains which impress him most deeply. His works are full of the Himalayas. Apart from his earliest drama and the slight poem called _The Seasons_, there is not one of them which is not fairly redolent of mountains. One, _The Birth of the War-god_, might be said to be all mountains. Nor was it only Himalayan grandeur and sublimity which attracted him; for, as a Hindu critic has acutely observed, he is the only Sanskrit poet who has described a certain flower that grows in Kashmir. The sea interested him less. To him, as to most Hindus, the ocean was a beautiful, terrible barrier, not a highway to adventure. The "sea-belted earth" of which Kalidasa speaks means to him the mainland of India. Another conclusion that may be certainly drawn from Kalidasa's writing is this, that he was a man of sound and rather extensive education. He was not indeed a prodigy of learning, like Bhavabhuti in his own country or Milton in England, yet no man could write as he did without hard and intelligent study. To begin with, he had a minutely accurate knowledge of the Sanskrit language, at a time when Sanskrit was to some extent an artificial tongue. Somewhat too much stress is often laid upon this point, as if the writers of the classical period in India were composing in a foreign language. Every writer, especially every poet, composing in any language, writes in what may be called a strange idiom; that is, he does not write as he talks. Yet it is true that the gap between written language and vernacular was wider in Kalidasa's day than it has often been. The Hindus themselves regard twelve years' study as requisite for the mastery of the "chief of all sciences, the science of grammar." That Kalidasa had mastered this science his works bear abundant witness. He likewise mastered the works on rhetoric and dramatic theory--subjects which Hindu savants have treated with great, if sometimes hair-splitting, ingenuity. The profound and subtle systems of philosophy were also possessed by Kalidasa, and he had some knowledge of astronomy and law. But it was not only in written books that Kalidasa was deeply read. Rarely has a man walked our earth who observed the phenomena of living nature as accurately as he, though his accuracy was of course that of the poet, not that of the scientist. Much is lost to us who grow up among other animals and plants; yet we can appreciate his "bee-black hair," his ashoka-tree that "sheds his blossoms in a rain of tears," his river wearing a sombre veil of mist: Although her reeds seem hands that clutch the dress To hide her charms; his picture of the day-blooming water-lily at sunset: The water-lily closes, but With wonderful reluctancy; As if it troubled her to shut Her door of welcome to the bee. The religion of any great poet is always a matter of interest, especially the religion of a Hindu poet; for the Hindus have ever been a deeply and creatively religious people. So far as we can judge, Kalidasa moved among the jarring sects with sympathy for all, fanaticism for none. The dedicatory prayers that introduce his dramas are addressed to Shiva. This is hardly more than a convention, for Shiva is the patron of literature. If one of his epics, _The Birth of the War-god_, is distinctively Shivaistic, the other, _The Dynasty of Raghu_, is no less Vishnuite in tendency. If the hymn to Vishnu in _The Dynasty of Raghu_ is an expression of Vedantic monism, the hymn to Brahma in _The Birth of the War-god_ gives equally clear expression to the rival dualism of the Sankhya system. Nor are the Yoga doctrine and Buddhism left without sympathetic mention. We are therefore justified in concluding that Kalidasa was, in matters of religion, what William James would call "healthy-minded," emphatically not a "sick soul." There are certain other impressions of Kalidasa's life and personality which gradually become convictions in the mind of one who reads and re-reads his poetry, though they are less easily susceptible of exact proof. One feels certain that he was physically handsome, and the handsome Hindu is a wonderfully fine type of manhood. One knows that he possessed a fascination for women, as they in turn fascinated him. One knows that children loved him. One becomes convinced that he never suffered any morbid, soul-shaking experience such as besetting religious doubt brings with it, or the pangs of despised love; that on the contrary he moved among men and women with a serene and godlike tread, neither self-indulgent nor ascetic, with mind and senses ever alert to every form of beauty. We know that his poetry was popular while he lived, and we cannot doubt that his personality was equally attractive, though it is probable that no contemporary knew the full measure of his greatness. For his nature was one of singular balance, equally at home in a splendid court and on a lonely mountain, with men of high and of low degree. Such men are never fully appreciated during life. They continue to grow after they are dead. II Kalidasa left seven works which have come down to us: three dramas, two epics, one elegiac poem, and one descriptive poem. Many other works, including even an astronomical treatise, have been attributed to him; they are certainly not his. Perhaps there was more than one author who bore the name Kalidasa; perhaps certain later writers were more concerned for their work than for personal fame. On the other hand, there is no reason to doubt that the seven recognised works are in truth from Kalidasa's hand. The only one concerning which there is reasonable room for suspicion is the short poem descriptive of the seasons, and this is fortunately the least important of the seven. Nor is there evidence to show that any considerable poem has been lost, unless it be true that the concluding cantos of one of the epics have perished. We are thus in a fortunate position in reading Kalidasa: we have substantially all that he wrote, and run no risk of ascribing to him any considerable work from another hand. Of these seven works, four are poetry throughout; the three dramas, like all Sanskrit dramas, are written in prose, with a generous mingling of lyric and descriptive stanzas. The poetry, even in the epics, is stanzaic; no part of it can fairly be compared to English blank verse. Classical Sanskrit verse, so far as structure is concerned, has much in common with familiar Greek and Latin forms: it makes no systematic use of rhyme; it depends for its rhythm not upon accent, but upon quantity. The natural medium of translation into English seems to me to be the rhymed stanza;[3] in the present work the rhymed stanza has been used, with a consistency perhaps too rigid, wherever the original is in verse. Kalidasa's three dramas bear the names: _Malavika and Agnimitra, Urvashi_, and _Shakuntala_. The two epics are _The Dynasty of Raghu_ and _The Birth of the War-god_. The elegiac poem is called _The Cloud-Messenger_, and the descriptive poem is entitled _The Seasons_. It may be well to state briefly the more salient features of the Sanskrit _genres_ to which these works belong. The drama proved in India, as in other countries, a congenial form to many of the most eminent poets. The Indian drama has a marked individuality, but stands nearer to the modern European theatre than to that of ancient Greece; for the plays, with a very few exceptions, have no religious significance, and deal with love between man and woman. Although tragic elements may be present, a tragic ending is forbidden. Indeed, nothing regarded as disagreeable, such as fighting or even kissing, is permitted on the stage; here Europe may perhaps learn a lesson in taste. Stage properties were few and simple, while particular care was lavished on the music. The female parts were played by women. The plays very rarely have long monologues, even the inevitable prologue being divided between two speakers, but a Hindu audience was tolerant of lyrical digression. It may be said, though the statement needs qualification in both directions, that the Indian dramas have less action and less individuality in the characters, but more poetical charm than the dramas of modern Europe. On the whole, Kalidasa was remarkably faithful to the ingenious but somewhat over-elaborate conventions of Indian dramaturgy. His first play, the _Malavika and Agnimitra_, is entirely conventional in plot. The _Shakuntala_ is transfigured by the character of the heroine. The _Urvashi_, in spite of detail beauty, marks a distinct decline. _The Dynasty of Raghu_ and _The Birth of the War-god_ belong to a species of composition which it is not easy to name accurately. The Hindu name _kavya_ has been rendered by artificial epic, _épopée savante, Kunstgedicht_. It is best perhaps to use the term epic, and to qualify the term by explanation. The _kavyas_ differ widely from the _Mahabharata_ and the _Ramayana_, epics which resemble the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ less in outward form than in their character as truly national poems. The _kavya_ is a narrative poem written in a sophisticated age by a learned poet, who possesses all the resources of an elaborate rhetoric and metric. The subject is drawn from time-honoured mythology. The poem is divided into cantos, written not in blank verse but in stanzas. Several stanza-forms are commonly employed in the same poem, though not in the same canto, except that the concluding verses of a canto are not infrequently written in a metre of more compass than the remainder. I have called _The Cloud-Messenger_ an elegiac poem, though it would not perhaps meet the test of a rigid definition. The Hindus class it with _The Dynasty of Raghu_ and _The Birth of the War-god_ as a _kavya_, but this classification simply evidences their embarrassment. In fact, Kalidasa created in _The Cloud-Messenger_ a new _genre_. No further explanation is needed here, as the entire poem is translated below. The short descriptive poem called _The Seasons_ has abundant analogues in other literatures, and requires no comment. It is not possible to fix the chronology of Kalidasa's writings, yet we are not wholly in the dark. _Malavika and Agnimitra_ was certainly his first drama, almost certainly his first work. It is a reasonable conjecture, though nothing more, that Urvashi was written late, when the poet's powers were waning. The introductory stanzas of _The Dynasty of Raghu_ suggest that this epic was written before _The Birth of the War-god_, though the inference is far from certain. Again, it is reasonable to assume that the great works on which Kalidasa's fame chiefly rests--_Shakuntala_, _The Cloud-Messenger_, _The Dynasty of Raghu_, the first eight cantos of _The Birth of the War-god_--were composed when he was in the prime of manhood. But as to the succession of these four works we can do little but guess. Kalidasa's glory depends primarily upon the quality of his work, yet would be much diminished if he had failed in bulk and variety. In India, more than would be the case in Europe, the extent of his writing is an indication of originality and power; for the poets of the classical period underwent an education that encouraged an exaggerated fastidiousness, and they wrote for a public meticulously critical. Thus the great Bhavabhuti spent his life in constructing three dramas; mighty spirit though he was, he yet suffers from the very scrupulosity of his labour. In this matter, as in others, Kalidasa preserves his intellectual balance and his spiritual initiative: what greatness of soul is required for this, every one knows who has ever had the misfortune to differ in opinion from an intellectual clique. III Le nom de Kâlidâsa domine la poésie indienne et la résume brillamment. Le drame, l'épopée savante, l'élégie attestent aujourd'hui encore la puissance et la souplesse de ce magnifique génie; seul entre les disciples de Sarasvatî [the goddess of eloquence], il a eu le bonheur de produire un chef-d'oeuvre vraiment classique, où l'Inde s'admire et où l'humanité se reconnaît. Les applaudissements qui saluèrent la naissance de Çakuntalâ à Ujjayinî ont après de longs siècles éclaté d'un bout du monde à l'autre, quand William Jones l'eut révélée à l'Occident. Kâlidâsa a marqué sa place dans cette pléiade étincelante où chaque nom résume une période de l'esprit humain. La série de ces noms forme l'histoire, ou plutôt elle est l'histoire même.[4] It is hardly possible to say anything true about Kalidasa's achievement which is not already contained in this appreciation. Yet one loves to expand the praise, even though realising that the critic is by his very nature a fool. Here there shall at any rate be none of that cold-blooded criticism which imagines itself set above a world-author to appraise and judge, but a generous tribute of affectionate admiration. The best proof of a poet's greatness is the inability of men to live without him; in other words, his power to win and hold through centuries the love and admiration of his own people, especially when that people has shown itself capable of high intellectual and spiritual achievement. For something like fifteen hundred years, Kalidasa has been more widely read in India than any other author who wrote in Sanskrit. There have also been many attempts to express in words the secret of his abiding power: such attempts can never be wholly successful, yet they are not without considerable interest. Thus Bana, a celebrated novelist of the seventh century, has the following lines in some stanzas of poetical criticism which he prefixes to a historical romance: Where find a soul that does not thrill In Kalidasa's verse to meet The smooth, inevitable lines Like blossom-clusters, honey-sweet? A later writer, speaking of Kalidasa and another poet, is more laconic in this alliterative line: _Bhaso hasah, Kalidaso vilasah_--Bhasa is mirth, Kalidasa is grace. These two critics see Kalidasa's grace, his sweetness, his delicate taste, without doing justice to the massive quality without which his poetry could not have survived. Though Kalidasa has not been as widely appreciated in Europe as he deserves, he is the only Sanskrit poet who can properly be said to have been appreciated at all. Here he must struggle with the truly Himalayan barrier of language. Since there will never be many Europeans, even among the cultivated, who will find it possible to study the intricate Sanskrit language, there remains only one means of presentation. None knows the cruel inadequacy of poetical translation like the translator. He understands better than others can, the significance of the position which Kalidasa has won in Europe. When Sir William Jones first translated the _Shakuntala_ in 1789, his work was enthusiastically received in Europe, and most warmly, as was fitting, by the greatest living poet of Europe. Since that day, as is testified by new translations and by reprints of the old, there have been many thousands who have read at least one of Kalidasa's works; other thousands have seen it on the stage in Europe and America. How explain a reputation that maintains itself indefinitely and that conquers a new continent after a lapse of thirteen hundred years? None can explain it, yet certain contributory causes can be named. No other poet in any land has sung of happy love between man and woman as Kalidasa sang. Every one of his works is a love-poem, however much more it may be. Yet the theme is so infinitely varied that the reader never wearies. If one were to doubt from a study of European literature, comparing the ancient classics with modern works, whether romantic love be the expression of a natural instinct, be not rather a morbid survival of decaying chivalry, he has only to turn to India's independently growing literature to find the question settled. Kalidasa's love-poetry rings as true in our ears as it did in his countrymen's ears fifteen hundred years ago. It is of love eventually happy, though often struggling for a time against external obstacles, that Kalidasa writes. There is nowhere in his works a trace of that not quite healthy feeling that sometimes assumes the name "modern love." If it were not so, his poetry could hardly have survived; for happy love, blessed with children, is surely the more fundamental thing. In his drama _Urvashi_ he is ready to change and greatly injure a tragic story, given him by long tradition, in order that a loving pair may not be permanently separated. One apparent exception there is--the story of Rama and Sita in _The Dynasty of Raghu_. In this case it must be remembered that Rama is an incarnation of Vishnu, and the story of a mighty god incarnate is not to be lightly tampered with. It is perhaps an inevitable consequence of Kalidasa's subject that his women appeal more strongly to a modern reader than his men. The man is the more variable phenomenon, and though manly virtues are the same in all countries and centuries, the emphasis has been variously laid. But the true woman seems timeless, universal. I know of no poet, unless it be Shakespeare, who has given the world a group of heroines so individual yet so universal; heroines as true, as tender, as brave as are Indumati, Sita, Parvati, the Yaksha's bride, and Shakuntala. Kalidasa could not understand women without understanding children. It would be difficult to find anywhere lovelier pictures of childhood than those in which our poet presents the little Bharata, Ayus, Raghu, Kumara. It is a fact worth noticing that Kalidasa's children are all boys. Beautiful as his women are, he never does more than glance at a little girl. Another pervading note of Kalidasa's writing is his love of external nature. No doubt it is easier for a Hindu, with his almost instinctive belief in reincarnation, to feel that all life, from plant to god, is truly one; yet none, even among the Hindus, has expressed this feeling with such convincing beauty as has Kalidasa. It is hardly true to say that he personifies rivers and mountains and trees; to him they have a conscious individuality as truly and as certainly as animals or men or gods. Fully to appreciate Kalidasa's poetry one must have spent some weeks at least among wild mountains and forests untouched by man; there the conviction grows that trees and flowers are indeed individuals, fully conscious of a personal life and happy in that life. The return to urban surroundings makes the vision fade; yet the memory remains, like a great love or a glimpse of mystic insight, as an intuitive conviction of a higher truth. Kalidasa's knowledge of nature is not only sympathetic, it is also minutely accurate. Not only are the snows and windy music of the Himalayas, the mighty current of the sacred Ganges, his possession; his too are smaller streams and trees and every littlest flower. It is delightful to imagine a meeting between Kalidasa and Darwin. They would have understood each other perfectly; for in each the same kind of imagination worked with the same wealth of observed fact. I have already hinted at the wonderful balance in Kalidasa's character, by virtue of which he found himself equally at home in a palace and in a wilderness. I know not with whom to compare him in this; even Shakespeare, for all his magical insight into natural beauty, is primarily a poet of the human heart. That can hardly be said of Kalidasa, nor can it be said that he is primarily a poet of natural beauty. The two characters unite in him, it might almost be said, chemically. The matter which I am clumsily endeavouring to make plain is beautifully epitomised in _The Cloud-Messenger_. The former half is a description of external nature, yet interwoven with human feeling; the latter half is a picture of a human heart, yet the picture is framed in natural beauty. So exquisitely is the thing done that none can say which half is superior. Of those who read this perfect poem in the original text, some are more moved by the one, some by the other. Kalidasa understood in the fifth century what Europe did not learn until the nineteenth, and even now comprehends only imperfectly: that the world was not made for man, that man reaches his full stature only as he realises the dignity and worth of life that is not human. That Kalidasa seized this truth is a magnificent tribute to his intellectual power, a quality quite as necessary to great poetry as perfection of form. Poetical fluency is not rare; intellectual grasp is not very uncommon: but the combination has not been found perhaps more than a dozen times since the world began. Because he possessed this harmonious combination, Kalidasa ranks not with Anacreon and Horace and Shelley, but with Sophocles, Vergil, Milton. He would doubtless have been somewhat bewildered by Wordsworth's gospel of nature. "The world is too much with us," we can fancy him repeating. "How can the world, the beautiful human world, be too much with us? How can sympathy with one form of life do other than vivify our sympathy with other forms of life?" It remains to say what can be said in a foreign language of Kalidasa's style. We have seen that he had a formal and systematic education; in this respect he is rather to be compared with Milton and Tennyson than with Shakespeare or Burns. He was completely master of his learning. In an age and a country which reprobated carelessness but were tolerant of pedantry, he held the scales with a wonderfully even hand, never heedless and never indulging in the elaborate trifling with Sanskrit diction which repels the reader from much of Indian literature. It is true that some western critics have spoken of his disfiguring conceits and puerile plays on words. One can only wonder whether these critics have ever read Elizabethan literature; for Kalidasa's style is far less obnoxious to such condemnation than Shakespeare's. That he had a rich and glowing imagination, "excelling in metaphor," as the Hindus themselves affirm, is indeed true; that he may, both in youth and age, have written lines which would not have passed his scrutiny in the vigour of manhood, it is not worth while to deny: yet the total effect left by his poetry is one of extraordinary sureness and delicacy of taste. This is scarcely a matter for argument; a reader can do no more than state his own subjective impression, though he is glad to find that impression confirmed by the unanimous authority of fifty generations of Hindus, surely the most competent judges on such a point. Analysis of Kalidasa's writings might easily be continued, but analysis can never explain life. The only real criticism is subjective. We know that Kalidasa is a very great poet, because the world has not been able to leave him alone. ARTHUR W. RYDER. SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY On Kalidasa's life and writings may be consulted A.A. Macdonell's _History of Sanskrit Literature_ (1900); the same author's article "Kalidasa" in the eleventh edition of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ (1910); and Sylvain Lévi's _Le Théâtre Indien_ (1890). The more important translations in English are the following: of the _Shakuntala_, by Sir William Jones (1789) and Monier Williams (fifth edition, 1887); of the _Urvashi_, by H.H. Wilson (in his _Select Specimens of the Theatre of the Hindus_, third edition, 1871); of _The Dynasty of Raghu_, by P. de Lacy Johnstone (1902); of _The Birth of The War-god_ (cantos one to seven), by Ralph T.H. Griffith (second edition, 1879); of _The Cloud-Messenger_, by H.H. Wilson (1813). There is an inexpensive reprint of Jones's _Shakuntala_ and Wilson's _Cloud-Messenger_ in one volume in the Camelot Series. KALIDASA An ancient heathen poet, loving more God's creatures, and His women, and His flowers Than we who boast of consecrated powers; Still lavishing his unexhausted store Of love's deep, simple wisdom, healing o'er The world's old sorrows, India's griefs and ours; That healing love he found in palace towers, On mountain, plain, and dark, sea-belted shore, In songs of holy Raghu's kingly line Or sweet Shakuntala in pious grove, In hearts that met where starry jasmines twine Or hearts that from long, lovelorn absence strove Together. Still his words of wisdom shine: All's well with man, when man and woman love. Willst du die Blüte des frühen, die Früchte des späteren Jahres, Willst du, was reizt und entzückt, Willst du, was sättigt und nährt, Willst du den Hummel, die erde mit Einem Namen begreifen, Nenn' ich, Sakuntala, dich, und dann ist alles gesagt. GOETHE. * * * * * FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: These verses are translated on pp. 123, 124.] [Footnote 2: The passage will be found on pp. 190-192.] [Footnote 3: This matter is more fully discussed in the introduction to my translation of _The Little Clay Cart_ (1905).] [Footnote 4: Lévi, _Le Théâtre Indien_, p. 163.] * * * * * CONTENTS INTRODUCTION: KALIDASA--HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS SHAKUNTALA THE STORY OF SHAKUNTALA THE TWO MINOR DRAMAS-- I. Malavika and Agnimitra II. Urvashi THE DYNASTY OF RAGHU THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD THE CLOUD-MESSENGER THE SEASONS * * * * * SHAKUNTALA A PLAY IN SEVEN ACTS DRAMATIS PERSONÆ KING DUSHYANTA. BHARATA, _nicknamed_ All-tamer, _his son_. MADHAVYA, _a clown, his companion_. His charioteer. RAIVATAKA, _a door-keeper_. BHADRASENA, _a general_. KARABHAKA, _a servant_. PARVATAYANA, _a chamberlain_. SOMARATA, _a chaplain_. KANVA, _hermit-father_. SHARNGARAVA } SHARADVATA } _his pupils_. HARITA } DURVASAS, _an irascible sage_. The chief of police. SUCHAKA } } _policemen_. JANUKA } A fisherman. SHAKUNTALA, _foster-child of Kanva_. ANUSUVA } } _her friends_. PRIYAMVADA } GAUTAMI, _hermit-mother_. KASHYAPA, _father of the gods_. ADITI, _mother of the gods_. MATALI, _charioteer of heaven's king_. GALAVA, _a pupil in heaven_. MISHRAKESHI, _a heavenly nymph_. _Stage-director and actress (in the prologue), hermits and hermit-women, two court poets, palace attendants, invisible fairies_. The first four acts pass in Kanva's forest hermitage; acts five and six in the king's palace; act seven on a heavenly mountain. The time is perhaps seven years. SHAKUNTALA PROLOGUE BENEDICTION UPON THE AUDIENCE Eight forms has Shiva, lord of all and king: And these are water, first created thing; And fire, which speeds the sacrifice begun; The priest; and time's dividers, moon and sun; The all-embracing ether, path of sound; The earth, wherein all seeds of life are found; And air, the breath of life: may he draw near, Revealed in these, and bless those gathered here. _The stage-director_. Enough of this! (_Turning toward the dressing-room_.) Madam, if you are ready, pray come here. (_Enter an actress_.) _Actress_. Here I am, sir. What am I to do? _Director_. Our audience is very discriminating, and we are to offer them a new play, called _Shakuntala and the ring of recognition_, written by the famous Kalidasa. Every member of the cast must be on his mettle. _Actress_. Your arrangements are perfect. Nothing will go wrong. _Director_ (_smiling_). To tell the truth, madam, Until the wise are satisfied, I cannot feel that skill is shown; The best-trained mind requires support, And does not trust itself alone. _Actress_. True. What shall we do first? _Director_. First, you must sing something to please the ears of the audience. _Actress_. What season of the year shall I sing about? _Director_. Why, sing about the pleasant summer which has just begun. For at this time of year A mid-day plunge will temper heat; The breeze is rich with forest flowers; To slumber in the shade is sweet; And charming are the twilight hours. _Actress_ (_sings_). The siris-blossoms fair, With pollen laden, Are plucked to deck her hair By many a maiden, But gently; flowers like these Are kissed by eager bees. _Director_. Well done! The whole theatre is captivated by your song, and sits as if painted. What play shall we give them to keep their good-will? _Actress_. Why, you just told me we were to give a new play called _Shakuntala and the ring_. _Director_. Thank you for reminding me. For the moment I had quite forgotten. Your charming song had carried me away As the deer enticed the hero of our play. (_Exeunt ambo_.) ACT I THE HUNT (_Enter, in a chariot, pursuing a deer_, KING DUSHYANTA, _bow and arrow in hand; and a charioteer_.) _Charioteer_ (_Looking at the king and the deer_). Your Majesty, I see you hunt the spotted deer With shafts to end his race, As though God Shiva should appear In his immortal chase. _King_. Charioteer, the deer has led us a long chase. And even now His neck in beauty bends As backward looks he sends At my pursuing car That threatens death from far. Fear shrinks to half the body small; See how he fears the arrow's fall! The path he takes is strewed With blades of grass half-chewed From jaws wide with the stress Of fevered weariness. He leaps so often and so high, He does not seem to run, but fly. (_In surprise_.) Pursue as I may, I can hardly keep him in sight. _Charioteer_. Your Majesty, I have been holding the horses back because the ground was rough. This checked us and gave the deer a lead. Now we are on level ground, and you will easily overtake him. _King_. Then let the reins hang loose. _Charioteer_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He counterfeits rapid motion_.) Look, your Majesty! The lines hang loose; the steeds unreined Dart forward with a will. Their ears are pricked; their necks are strained; Their plumes lie straight and still. They leave the rising dust behind; They seem to float upon the wind. _King_ (_joyfully_). See! The horses are gaining on the deer. As onward and onward the chariot flies, The small flashes large to my dizzy eyes. What is cleft in twain, seems to blur and mate; What is crooked in nature, seems to be straight. Things at my side in an instant appear Distant, and things in the distance, near. _A voice behind the scenes_. O King, this deer belongs to the hermitage, and must not be killed. _Charioteer_ (_listening and looking_). Your Majesty, here are two hermits, come to save the deer at the moment when your arrow was about to fall. _King_ (_hastily_). Stop the chariot. _Charioteer_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He does so. Enter a hermit with his pupil_.) _Hermit_ (_lifting his hand_). O King, this deer belongs to the hermitage. Why should his tender form expire, As blossoms perish in the fire? How could that gentle life endure The deadly arrow, sharp and sure? Restore your arrow to the quiver; To you were weapons lent The broken-hearted to deliver, Not strike the innocent. _King_ (_bowing low_). It is done. (_He does so_.) _Hermit_ (_joyfully_). A deed worthy of you, scion of Puru's race, and shining example of kings. May you beget a son to rule earth and heaven. _King_ (_bowing low_). I am thankful for a Brahman's blessing. _The two hermits_. O King, we are on our way to gather firewood. Here, along the bank of the Malini, you may see the hermitage of Father Kanva, over which Shakuntala presides, so to speak, as guardian deity. Unless other deities prevent, pray enter here and receive a welcome. Besides, Beholding pious hermit-rites Preserved from fearful harm, Perceive the profit of the scars On your protecting arm. _King_. Is the hermit father there? _The two hermits_. No, he has left his daughter to welcome guests, and has just gone to Somatirtha, to avert an evil fate that threatens her. _King_. Well, I will see her. She shall feel my devotion, and report it to the sage. _The two hermits_. Then we will go on our way. (_Exit hermit with pupil_.) _King_. Charioteer, drive on. A sight of the pious hermitage will purify us. _Charioteer_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He counterfeits motion again_.) _King_ (_looking about_). One would know, without being told, that this is the precinct of a pious grove. _Charioteer_. How so? _King_. Do you not see? Why, here Are rice-grains, dropped from bills of parrot chicks Beneath the trees; and pounding-stones where sticks A little almond-oil; and trustful deer That do not run away as we draw near; And river-paths that are besprinkled yet From trickling hermit-garments, clean and wet. Besides, The roots of trees are washed by many a stream That breezes ruffle; and the flowers' red gleam Is dimmed by pious smoke; and fearless fawns Move softly on the close-cropped forest lawns. _Charioteer_. It is all true. _King_ (_after a little_). We must not disturb the hermitage. Stop here while I dismount. _Charioteer_. I am holding the reins. Dismount, your Majesty. _King_ (_dismounts and looks at himself_). One should wear modest garments on entering a hermitage. Take these jewels and the bow. (_He gives them to the charioteer_.) Before I return from my visit to the hermits, have the horses' backs wet down. _Charioteer_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.) _King_ (_walking and looking about_). The hermitage! Well, I will enter. (_As he does so, he feels a throbbing in his arm_.) A tranquil spot! Why should I thrill? Love cannot enter there-- Yet to inevitable things Doors open everywhere. _A voice behind the scenes_. This way, girls! _King_ (_listening_). I think I hear some one to the right of the grove. I must find out. (_He walks and looks about_.) Ah, here are hermit-girls, with watering-pots just big enough for them to handle. They are coming in this direction to water the young trees. They are charming! The city maids, for all their pains, Seem not so sweet and good; Our garden blossoms yield to these Flower-children of the wood. I will draw back into the shade and wait for them. (_He stands, gazing toward them. Enter_ SHAKUNTALA, _as described, and her two friends_.) _First friend_. It seems to me, dear, that Father Kanva cares more for the hermitage trees than he does for you. You are delicate as a jasmine blossom, yet he tells you to fill the trenches about the trees. _Shakuntala_. Oh, it isn't Father's bidding so much. I feel like a real sister to them. (_She waters the trees_.) _Priyamvada_. Shakuntala, we have watered the trees that blossom in the summer-time. Now let's sprinkle those whose flowering-time is past. That will be a better deed, because we shall not be working for a reward. _Shakuntala_. What a pretty idea! (_She does so_.) _King_ (_to himself_). And this is Kanva's daughter, Shakuntala. (_In surprise_.) The good Father does wrong to make her wear the hermit's dress of bark. The sage who yokes her artless charm With pious pain and grief, Would try to cut the toughest vine With a soft, blue lotus-leaf. Well, I will step behind a tree and see how she acts with her friends. (_He conceals himself_.) _Shakuntala_. Oh, Anusuya! Priyamvada has fastened this bark dress so tight that it hurts. Please loosen it. (ANUSUYA _does so_.) _Priyamvada_ (_laughing_). You had better blame your own budding charms for that. _King_. She is quite right. Beneath the barken dress Upon the shoulder tied, In maiden loveliness Her young breast seems to hide, As when a flower amid The leaves by autumn tossed-- Pale, withered leaves--lies hid, And half its grace is lost. Yet in truth the bark dress is not an enemy to her beauty. It serves as an added ornament. For The meanest vesture glows On beauty that enchants: The lotus lovelier shows Amid dull water-plants; The moon in added splendour Shines for its spot of dark; Yet more the maiden slender Charms in her dress of bark. _Shakuntala_ (_looking ahead_). Oh, girls, that mango-tree is trying to tell me something with his branches that move in the wind like fingers. I must go and see him. (_She does so_.) _Priyamvada_. There, Shakuntala, stand right where you are a minute. _Shakuntala_. Why? _Priyamvada_. When I see you there, it looks as if a vine were clinging to the mango-tree. _Shakuntala_. I see why they call you the flatterer. _King_. But the flattery is true. Her arms are tender shoots; her lips Are blossoms red and warm; Bewitching youth begins to flower In beauty on her form. _Anusuya_. Oh, Shakuntala! Here is the jasmine-vine that you named Light of the Grove. She has chosen the mango-tree as her husband. _Shakuntala_ (_approaches and looks at it, joyfully_). What a pretty pair they make. The jasmine shows her youth in her fresh flowers, and the mango-tree shows his strength in his ripening fruit. (_She stands gazing at them_.) _Priyamvada_ (_smiling_). Anusuya, do you know why Shakuntala looks so hard at the Light of the Grove? _Anusuya_. No. Why? _Priyamvada_. She is thinking how the Light of the Grove has found a good tree, and hoping that she will meet a fine lover. _Shakuntala_. That's what you want for yourself. (_She tips her watering-pot_.) _Anusuya_. Look, Shakuntala! Here is the spring-creeper that Father Kanva tended with his own hands--just as he did you. You are forgetting her. _Shakuntala_. I'd forget myself sooner. (_She goes to the creeper and looks at it, joyfully_.) Wonderful! Wonderful! Priyamvada, I have something pleasant to tell you. _Priyamvada_. What is it, dear? _Shakuntala_. It is out of season, but the spring-creeper is covered with buds down to the very root. _The two friends_ (_running up_). Really? _Shakuntala_. Of course. Can't you see? _Priyamvada_ (_looking at it joyfully_). And I have something pleasant to tell _you_. You are to be married soon. _Shakuntala_ (_snappishly_). You know that's just what you want for yourself. _Priyamvada_. I'm not teasing. I really heard Father Kanva say that this flowering vine was to be a symbol of your coming happiness. _Anusuya_. Priyamvada, that is why Shakuntala waters the spring-creeper so lovingly. _Shakuntala_. She is my sister. Why shouldn't I give her water? (_She tips her watering-pot_.) _King_. May I hope that she is the hermit's daughter by a mother of a different caste? But it _must_ be so. Surely, she may become a warrior's bride; Else, why these longings in an honest mind? The motions of a blameless heart decide Of right and wrong, when reason leaves us blind. Yet I will learn the whole truth. _Shakuntala_ (_excitedly_). Oh, oh! A bee has left the jasmine-vine and is flying into my face. (_She shows herself annoyed by the bee_.) _King_ (_ardently_). As the bee about her flies, Swiftly her bewitching eyes Turn to watch his flight. She is practising to-day Coquetry and glances' play Not from love, but fright. (_Jealously_.) Eager bee, you lightly skim O'er the eyelid's trembling rim Toward the cheek aquiver. Gently buzzing round her cheek, Whispering in her ear, you seek Secrets to deliver. While her hands that way and this Strike at you, you steal a kiss, Love's all, honeymaker. I know nothing but her name, Not her caste, nor whence she came-- You, my rival, take her. _Shakuntala_. Oh, girls! Save me from this dreadful bee! _The two friends_ (_smiling_). Who are we, that we should save you? Call upon Dushyanta. For pious groves are in the protection of the king. _King_. A good opportunity to present myself. Have no--(_He checks himself. Aside_.) No, they would see that I am the king. I prefer to appear as a guest. _Shakuntala_. He doesn't leave me alone! I am going to run away. (_She takes a step and looks about_.) Oh, dear! Oh, dear! He is following me. Please save me. _King_ (_hastening forward_). Ah! A king of Puru's mighty line Chastises shameless churls; What insolent is he who baits These artless hermit-girls? (_The girls are a little flurried on seeing the king_.) _Anusuya_. It is nothing very dreadful, sir. But our friend (_indicating_ SHAKUNTALA) was teased and frightened by a bee. _King_ (_to_ SHAKUNTALA). I hope these pious days are happy ones. (SHAKUNTALA's _eyes drop in embarrassment_.) _Anusuya_. Yes, now that we receive such a distinguished guest. _Priyamvada_. Welcome, sir. Go to the cottage, Shakuntala, and bring fruit. This water will do to wash the feet. _King_. Your courteous words are enough to make me feel at home. _Anusuya_. Then, sir, pray sit down and rest on this shady bench. _King_. You, too, are surely wearied by your pious task. Pray be seated a moment. _Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ SHAKUNTALA). My dear, we must be polite to our guest. Shall we sit down? (_The three girls sit_.) _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, why do I have such feelings when I see this man? They seem wrong in a hermitage. _King_ (_looking at the girls_). It is delightful to see your friendship. For you are all young and beautiful. _Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Who is he, dear? With his mystery, and his dignity, and his courtesy? He acts like a king and a gentleman. _Anusuya_. I am curious too. I am going to ask him. (_Aloud_.) Sir, you are so very courteous that I make bold to ask you something. What royal family do you adorn, sir? What country is grieving at your absence? Why does a gentleman so delicately bred submit to the weary journey into our pious grove? _Shakuntala_ (_aside_). Be brave, my heart. Anusuya speaks your very thoughts. _King_ (_aside_). Shall I tell at once who I am, or conceal it? (_He reflects_.) This will do. (_Aloud_.) I am a student of Scripture. It is my duty to see justice done in the cities of the king. And I have come to this hermitage on a tour of inspection. _Anusuya_. Then we of the hermitage have some one to take care of us. (SHAKUNTALA _shows embarrassment_.) _The two friends_ (_observing the demeanour of the pair. Aside to_ SHAKUNTALA). Oh, Shakuntala! If only Father were here to-day. _Shakuntala_. What would he do? _The two friends_. He would make our distinguished guest happy, if it took his most precious treasure. _Shakuntala_ (_feigning anger_). Go away! You mean something. I'll not listen to you. _King_. I too would like to ask a question about your friend. _The two friends_. Sir, your request is a favour to us. _King_. Father Kanva lives a lifelong hermit. Yet you say that your friend is his daughter. How can that be? _Anusuya_. Listen, sir. There is a majestic royal sage named Kaushika---- _King_. Ah, yes. The famous Kaushika. _Anusuya_. Know, then, that he is the source of our friend's being. But Father Kanva is her real father, because he took care of her when she was abandoned. _King_. You waken my curiosity with the word "abandoned." May I hear the whole story? _Anusuya_. Listen, sir. Many years ago, that royal sage was leading a life of stern austerities, and the gods, becoming strangely jealous, sent the nymph Menaka to disturb his devotions. _King_. Yes, the gods feel this jealousy toward the austerities of others. And then-- _Anusuya_. Then in the lovely spring-time he saw her intoxicating beauty--(_She stops in embarrassment_.) _King_. The rest is plain. Surely, she is the daughter of the nymph. _Anusuya_. Yes. _King_. It is as it should be. To beauty such as this No woman could give birth; The quivering lightning flash Is not a child of earth. (SHAKUNTALA _hangs her head in confusion_.) _King_ (_to himself_). Ah, my wishes become hopes. _Priyamvada_ (_looking with a smile at_ SHAKUNTALA). Sir, it seems as if you had more to say. (SHAKUNTALA _threatens her friend with her finger_.) _King_. You are right. Your pious life interests me, and I have another question. _Priyamvada_. Do not hesitate. We hermit people stand ready to answer all demands. _King_. My question is this: Does she, till marriage only, keep her vow As hermit-maid, that shames the ways of love? Or must her soft eyes ever see, as now, Soft eyes of friendly deer in peaceful grove? _Priyamvada_. Sir, we are under bonds to lead a life of virtue. But it is her father's wish to give her to a suitable lover. _King_ (_joyfully to himself_). O heart, your wish is won! All doubt at last is done; The thing you feared as fire, Is the jewel of your desire. _Shakuntala_ (_pettishly_). Anusuya, I'm going. _Anusuya_. What for? _Shakuntala_. I am going to tell Mother Gautami that Priyamvada is talking nonsense. (_She rises_.) _Anusuya_. My dear, we hermit people cannot neglect to entertain a distinguished guest, and go wandering about. (SHAKUNTALA _starts to walk away without answering_.) _King_ (_aside_). She is going! (_He starts up as if to detain her, then checks his desires_.) A thought is as vivid as an act, to a lover. Though nurture, conquering nature, holds Me back, it seems As had I started and returned In waking dreams. _Priyamvada_ (_approaching_ SHAKUNTALA). You dear, peevish girl! You mustn't go. _Shakuntala_ (_turns with a frown_). Why not? _Priyamvada_. You owe me the watering of two trees. You can go when you have paid your debt. (_She forces her to come back_.) _King_. It is plain that she is already wearied by watering the trees. See! Her shoulders droop; her palms are reddened yet; Quick breaths are struggling in her bosom fair; The blossom o'er her ear hangs limply wet; One hand restrains the loose, dishevelled hair. I therefore remit her debt. (_He gives the two friends a ring. They take it, read the name engraved on it, and look at each other_.) _King_. Make no mistake. This is a present--from the king. _Priyamvada_. Then, sir, you ought not to part with it. Your word is enough to remit the debt. _Anusuya_. Well, Shakuntala, you are set free by this kind gentleman--or rather, by the king himself. Where are you going now? _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). I would never leave him if I could help myself. _Priyamvada_. Why don't you go now? _Shakuntala_. I am not _your_ servant any longer. I will go when I like. _King_ (_looking at_ SHAKUNTALA. _To himself_). Does she feel toward me as I do toward her? At least, there is ground for hope. Although she does not speak to me, She listens while I speak; Her eyes turn not to see my face, But nothing else they seek. _A voice behind the scenes_. Hermits! Hermits! Prepare to defend the creatures in our pious grove. King Dushyanta is hunting in the neighbourhood. The dust his horses' hoofs have raised, Red as the evening sky, Falls like a locust-swarm on boughs Where hanging garments dry. _King_ (_aside_). Alas! My soldiers are disturbing the pious grove in their search for me. _The voice behind the scenes_. Hermits! Hermits! Here is an elephant who is terrifying old men, women, and children. One tusk is splintered by a cruel blow Against a blocking tree; his gait is slow, For countless fettering vines impede and cling; He puts the deer to flight; some evil thing He seems, that comes our peaceful life to mar, Fleeing in terror from the royal car. (_The girls listen and rise anxiously_.) _King_. I have offended sadly against the hermits. I must go back. _The two friends_. Your Honour, we are frightened by this alarm of the elephant. Permit us to return to the cottage. _Anusuya_ (_to_ SHAKUNTALA). Shakuntala dear, Mother Gautami will be anxious. We must hurry and find her. _Shakuntala_ (_feigning lameness_). Oh, oh! I can hardly walk. _King_. You must go very slowly. And I will take pains that the hermitage is not disturbed. _The two friends_. Your honour, we feel as if we knew you very well. Pray pardon our shortcomings as hostesses. May we ask you to seek better entertainment from us another time? _King_. You are too modest. I feel honoured by the mere sight of you. _Shakuntala_. Anusuya, my foot is cut on a sharp blade of grass, and my dress is caught on an amaranth twig. Wait for me while I loosen it. (_She casts a lingering glance at the king, and goes out with her two friends_.) _King_ (_sighing_). They are gone. And I must go. The sight of Shakuntala has made me dread the return to the city. I will make my men camp at a distance from the pious grove. But I cannot turn my own thoughts from Shakuntala. It is my body leaves my love, not I; My body moves away, but not my mind; For back to her my struggling fancies fly Like silken banners borne against the wind. (_Exit_.) ACT II THE SECRET (_Enter the clown_.) _Clown_ (_sighing_). Damn! Damn! Damn! I'm tired of being friends with this sporting king. "There's a deer!" he shouts, "There's a boar!" And off he chases on a summer noon through woods where shade is few and far between. We drink hot, stinking water from the mountain streams, flavoured with leaves--nasty! At odd times we get a little tepid meat to eat. And the horses and the elephants make such a noise that I can't even be comfortable at night. Then the hunters and the bird-chasers--damn 'em--wake me up bright and early. They do make an ear-splitting rumpus when they start for the woods. But even that isn't the whole misery. There's a new pimple growing on the old boil. He left us behind and went hunting a deer. And there in a hermitage they say he found--oh, dear! oh, dear! he found a hermit-girl named Shakuntala. Since then he hasn't a thought of going back to town. I lay awake all night, thinking about it. What can I do? Well, I'll see my friend when he is dressed and beautified. (_He walks and looks about_.) Hello! Here he comes, with his bow in his hand, and his girl in his heart. He is wearing a wreath of wild flowers! I'll pretend to be all knocked up. Perhaps I can get a rest that way. (_He stands, leaning on his staff. Enter the king, as described_.) _King_ (_to himself_). Although my darling is not lightly won, She seemed to love me, and my hopes are bright; Though love be balked ere joy be well begun, A common longing is itself delight. (_Smiling_.) Thus does a lover deceive himself. He judges his love's feelings by his own desires. Her glance was loving--but 'twas not for me; Her step was slow--'twas grace, not coquetry; Her speech was short--to her detaining friend. In things like these love reads a selfish end! _Clown_ (_standing as before_). Well, king, I can't move my hand. I can only greet you with my voice. _King_ (_looking and smiling_). What makes you lame? _Clown_. Good! You hit a man in the eye, and then ask him why the tears come. _King_. I do not understand you. Speak plainly. _Clown_. When a reed bends over like a hunchback, do you blame the reed or the river-current? _King_. The river-current, of course. _Clown_. And you are to blame for my troubles. _King_. How so? _Clown_. It's a fine thing for you to neglect your royal duties and such a sure job--to live in the woods! What's the good of talking? Here I am, a Brahman, and my joints are all shaken up by this eternal running after wild animals, so that I can't move. Please be good to me. Let us have a rest for just one day. _King_ (_to himself_). He says this. And I too, when I remember Kanva's daughter, have little desire for the chase. For The bow is strung, its arrow near; And yet I cannot bend That bow against the fawns who share Soft glances with their friend. _Clown_ (_observing the king_). He means more than he says. I might as well weep in the woods. _King_ (_smiling_). What more could I mean? I have been thinking that I ought to take my friend's advice. _Clown_ (_cheerfully_). Long life to you, then. (_He unstiffens_.) _King_. Wait. Hear me out. _Clown_. Well, sir? _King_. When you are rested, you must be my companion in another task--an easy one. _Clown_. Crushing a few sweetmeats? _King_. I will tell you presently. _Clown_. Pray command my leisure. _King_. Who stands without? (_Enter the door-keeper_.) _Door-keeper_. I await your Majesty's commands. _King_. Raivataka, summon the general. _Door-keeper_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He goes out, then returns with the general_.) Follow me, sir. There is his Majesty, listening to our conversation. Draw near, sir. _General_ (_observing the king, to himself_). Hunting is declared to be a sin, yet it brings nothing but good to the king. See! He does not heed the cruel sting Of his recoiling, twanging string; The mid-day sun, the dripping sweat Affect him not, nor make him fret; His form, though sinewy and spare, Is most symmetrically fair; No mountain-elephant could be More filled with vital strength than he. (_He approaches_.) Victory to your Majesty! The forest is full of deer-tracks, and beasts of prey cannot be far off. What better occupation could we have? _King_. Bhadrasena, my enthusiasm is broken. Madhavya has been preaching against hunting. _General_ (_aside to the clown_). Stick to it, friend Madhavya. I will humour the king a moment. (_Aloud_.) Your Majesty, he is a chattering idiot. Your Majesty may judge by his own case whether hunting is an evil. Consider: The hunter's form grows sinewy, strong, and light; He learns, from beasts of prey, how wrath and fright Affect the mind; his skill he loves to measure With moving targets. 'Tis life's chiefest pleasure. _Clown_ (_angrily_). Get out! Get out with your strenuous life! The king has come to his senses. But you, you son of a slave-wench, can go chasing from forest to forest, till you fall into the jaws of some old bear that is looking for a deer or a jackal. _King_. Bhadrasena, I cannot take your advice, because I am in the vicinity of a hermitage. So for to-day The hornèd buffalo may shake The turbid water of the lake; Shade-seeking deer may chew the cud, Boars trample swamp-grass in the mud; The bow I bend in hunting, may Enjoy a listless holiday. _General_. Yes, your Majesty. _King_. Send back the archers who have gone ahead. And forbid the soldiers to vex the hermitage, or even to approach it. Remember: There lurks a hidden fire in each Religious hermit-bower; Cool sun-stones kindle if assailed By any foreign power. _General_. Yes, your Majesty. _Clown_. Now will you get out with your strenuous life? (_Exit general_.) _King_ (_to his attendants_). Lay aside your hunting dress. And you, Raivataka, return to your post of duty. _Raivataka_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.) _Clown_. You have got rid of the vermin. Now be seated on this flat stone, over which the trees spread their canopy of shade. I can't sit down till you do. _King_. Lead the way. _Clown_. Follow me. (_They walk about and sit down_.) _King_. Friend Madhavya, you do not know what vision is. You have not seen the fairest of all objects. _Clown_. I see you, right in front of me. _King_. Yes, every one thinks himself beautiful. But I was speaking of Shakuntala, the ornament of the hermitage. _Clown_ (_to himself_). I mustn't add fuel to the flame. (_Aloud_.) But you can't have her because she is a hermit-girl. What is the use of seeing her? _King_. Fool! And is it selfish longing then, That draws our souls on high Through eyes that have forgot to wink, As the new moon climbs the sky? Besides, Dushyanta's thoughts dwell on no forbidden object. _Clown_. Well, tell me about her. _King_. Sprung from a nymph of heaven Wanton and gay, Who spurned the blessing given, Going her way; By the stern hermit taken In her most need: So fell the blossom shaken, Flower on a weed. _Clown_ (_laughing_). You are like a man who gets tired of good dates and longs for sour tamarind. All the pearls of the palace are yours, and you want this girl! _King_. My friend, you have not seen her, or you could not talk so. _Clown_. She must be charming if she surprises _you_. _King_. Oh, my friend, she needs not many words. She is God's vision, of pure thought Composed in His creative mind; His reveries of beauty wrought The peerless pearl of womankind. So plays my fancy when I see How great is God, how lovely she. _Clown_. How the women must hate her! _King_. This too is in my thought. She seems a flower whose fragrance none has tasted, A gem uncut by workman's tool, A branch no desecrating hands have wasted, Fresh honey, beautifully cool. No man on earth deserves to taste her beauty, Her blameless loveliness and worth, Unless he has fulfilled man's perfect duty-- And is there such a one on earth? _Clown_. Marry her quick, then, before the poor girl falls into the hands of some oily-headed hermit. _King_. She is dependent on her father, and he is not here. _Clown_. But how does she feel toward you? _King_. My friend, hermit-girls are by their very nature timid. And yet When I was near, she could not look at me; She smiled--but not to me--and half denied it; She would not show her love for modesty, Yet did not try so very hard to hide it. _Clown_. Did you want her to climb into your lap the first time she saw you? _King_. But when she went away with her friends, she almost showed that she loved me. When she had hardly left my side, "I cannot walk," the maiden cried, And turned her face, and feigned to free The dress not caught upon the tree. _Clown_. She has given you some memories to chew on. I suppose that is why you are so in love with the pious grove. _King_. My friend, think of some pretext under which we may return to the hermitage. _Clown_. What pretext do you need? Aren't you the king? _King_. What of that? _Clown_. Collect the taxes on the hermits' rice. _King_. Fool! It is a very different tax which these hermits pay--one that outweighs heaps of gems. The wealth we take from common men, Wastes while we cherish; These share with us such holiness As ne'er can perish. _Voices behind the scenes_. Ah, we have found him. _King_ (_Listening_). The voices are grave and tranquil. These must be hermits. (_Enter the door-keeper_.) _Door-keeper_. Victory, O King. There are two hermit-youths at the gate. _King_. Bid them enter at once. _Door-keeper_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He goes out, then returns with the youths_.) Follow me. _First youth_ (_looking at the king_). A majestic presence, yet it inspires confidence. Nor is this wonderful in a king who is half a saint. For to him The splendid palace serves as hermitage; His royal government, courageous, sage, Adds daily to his merit; it is given To him to win applause from choirs of heaven Whose anthems to his glory rise and swell, Proclaiming him a king, and saint as well. _Second youth_. My friend, is this Dushyanta, friend of Indra? _First youth_. It is. _Second youth_. Nor is it wonderful that one whose arm Might bolt a city gate, should keep from harm The whole broad earth dark-belted by the sea; For when the gods in heaven with demons fight, Dushyanta's bow and Indra's weapon bright Are their reliance for the victory. _The two youths_ (_approaching_). Victory, O King! _King_ (_rising_). I salute you. _The two youths_. All hail! (_They offer fruit_.) _King_ (_receiving it and bowing low_). May I know the reason of your coming? _The two youths_. The hermits have learned that you are here, and they request---- _King_. They command rather. _The two youths_. The powers of evil disturb our pious life in the absence of the hermit-father. We therefore ask that you will remain a few nights with your charioteer to protect the hermitage. _King_. I shall be most happy to do so. _Clown_ (_to the king_). You rather seem to like being collared this way. _King_. Raivataka, tell my charioteer to drive up, and to bring the bow and arrows. _Raivataka_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_) _The two youths_. Thou art a worthy scion of The kings who ruled our nation And found, defending those in need, Their truest consecration. _King_. Pray go before. And I will follow straightway. _The two youths_. Victory, O King! (_Exeunt_.) _King_. Madhavya, have you no curiosity to see Shakuntala? _Clown_. I _did_ have an unending curiosity, but this talk about the powers of evil has put an end to it. _King_. Do not fear. You will be with me. _Clown_. I'll stick close to your chariot-wheel. (_Enter the door-keeper_.) _Door-keeper_. Your Majesty, the chariot is ready, and awaits your departure to victory. But one Karabhaka has come from the city, a messenger from the queen-mother. _King_ (_respectfully_). Sent by my mother? _Door-keeper_. Yes. _King_. Let him enter. _Door-keeper_ (_goes out and returns with_ KARABHAKA). Karabhaka, here is his Majesty. You may draw near. _Karabhaka_ (_approaching and bowing low_). Victory to your Majesty. The queen-mother sends her commands---- _King_. What are her commands? _Karabhaka_. She plans to end a fasting ceremony on the fourth day from to-day. And on that occasion her dear son must not fail to wait upon her. _King_. On the one side is my duty to the hermits, on the other my mother's command. Neither may be disregarded. What is to be done? _Clown_ (_laughing_). Stay half-way between, like Trishanku. _King_. In truth, I am perplexed. Two inconsistent duties sever My mind with cruel shock, As when the current of a river Is split upon a rock. (_He reflects_.) My friend, the queen-mother has always felt toward you as toward a son. Do you return, tell her what duty keeps me here, and yourself perform the offices of a son. _Clown_. You don't think I am afraid of the devils? _King_ (_smiling_). O mighty Brahman, who could suspect it? _Clown_. But I want to travel like a prince. _King_. I will send all the soldiers with you, for the pious grove must not be disturbed. _Clown_ (_strutting_). Aha! Look at the heir-apparent! _King_ (_to himself_). The fellow is a chatterbox. He might betray my longing to the ladies of the palace. Good, then! (_He takes the clown by the hand. Aloud_.) Friend Madhavya, my reverence for the hermits draws me to the hermitage. Do not think that I am really in love with the hermit-girl. Just think: A king, and a girl of the calm hermit-grove, Bred with the fawns, and a stranger to love! Then do not imagine a serious quest; The light words I uttered were spoken in jest. _Clown_. Oh, I understand that well enough. (_Exeunt ambo_.) ACT III THE LOVE-MAKING (_Enter a pupil, with sacred grass for the sacrifice_.) _Pupil_ (_with meditative astonishment_). How great is the power of King Dushyanta! Since his arrival our rites have been undisturbed. He does not need to bend the bow; For every evil thing, Awaiting not the arrow, flees From the twanging of the string. Well, I will take this sacred grass to the priests, to strew the altar. (_He walks and looks about, then speaks to some one not visible_.) Priyamvada, for whom are you carrying this cuscus-salve and the fibrous lotus-leaves? (_He listens_.) What do you say? That Shakuntala has become seriously ill from the heat, and that these things are to relieve her suffering? Give her the best of care, Priyamvada. She is the very life of the hermit-father. And I will give Gautami the holy water for her. (_Exit. Enter the lovelorn king_.) _King_ (_with a meditative sigh_). I know that stern religion's power Keeps guardian watch my maiden o'er; Yet all my heart flows straight to her Like water to the valley-floor. Oh, mighty Love, thine arrows are made of flowers. How can they be so sharp? (_He recalls something_.) Ah, I understand. Shiva's devouring wrath still burns in thee, As burns the eternal fire beneath the sea; Else how couldst thou, thyself long since consumed, Kindle the fire that flames so ruthlessly? Indeed, the moon and thou inspire confidence, only to deceive the host of lovers. Thy shafts are blossoms; coolness streams From moon-rays: thus the poets sing; But to the lovelorn, falsehood seems To lurk in such imagining; The moon darts fire from frosty beams; Thy flowery arrows cut and sting. And yet If Love will trouble her Whose great eyes madden me, I greet him unafraid, Though wounded ceaselessly. O mighty god, wilt thou not show me mercy after such reproaches? With tenderness unending I cherished thee when small, In vain--thy bow is bending; On me thine arrows fall. My care for thee to such a plight Has brought me; and it serves me right. I have driven off the powers of evil, and the hermits have dismissed me. Where shall I go now to rest from my weariness? (_He sighs_.) There is no rest for me except in seeing her whom I love. (_He looks up_.) She usually spends these hours of midday heat with her friends on the vine-wreathed banks of the Malini. I will go there. (_He walks and looks about_.) I believe the slender maiden has just passed through this corridor of young trees. For The stems from which she gathered flowers Are still unhealed; The sap where twigs were broken off Is uncongealed. (_He feels a breeze stirring_.) This is a pleasant spot, with the wind among the trees. Limbs that love's fever seizes, Their fervent welcome pay To lotus-fragrant breezes That bear the river-spray. (_He studies the ground_.) Ah, Shakuntala must be in this reedy bower. For In white sand at the door Fresh footprints appear, The toe lightly outlined, The heel deep and clear. I will hide among the branches, and see what happens. (_He does so. Joyfully_.) Ah, my eyes have found their heaven. Here is the darling of my thoughts, lying upon a flower-strewn bench of stone, and attended by her two friends. I will hear what they say to each other. (_He stands gazing. Enter_ SHAKUNTALA _with her two friends_.) _The two friends_ (_fanning her_). Do you feel better, dear, when we fan you with these lotus-leaves? _Shakuntala_ (_wearily_). Oh, are you fanning me, my dear girls? (_The two friends look sorrowfully at each other_.) _King_. She is seriously ill. (_Doubtfully_.) Is it the heat, or is it as I hope? (_Decidedly_.) It _must_ be so. With salve upon her breast, With loosened lotus-chain, My darling, sore oppressed, Is lovely in her pain. Though love and summer heat May work an equal woe, No maiden seems so sweet When summer lays her low. _Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Anusuya, since she first saw the good king, she has been greatly troubled. I do not believe her fever has any other cause. _Anusuya_. I suspect you are right. I am going to ask her. My dear, I must ask you something. You are in a high fever. _King_. It is too true. Her lotus-chains that were as white As moonbeams shining in the night, Betray the fever's awful pain, And fading, show a darker stain. _Shakuntala_ (_half rising_.) Well, say whatever you like. _Anusuya_. Shakuntala dear, you have not told us what is going on in your mind. But I have heard old, romantic stories, and I can't help thinking that you are in a state like that of a lady in love. Please tell us what hurts you. We have to understand the disease before we can even try to cure it. _King_. Anusuya expresses my own thoughts. _Shakuntala_. It hurts me terribly. I can't tell you all at once. _Priyamvada_. Anusuya is right, dear. Why do you hide your trouble? You are wasting away every day. You are nothing but a beautiful shadow. _King_. Priyamvada is right. See! Her cheeks grow thin; her breast and shoulders fail; Her waist is weary and her face is pale: She fades for love; oh, pitifully sweet! As vine-leaves wither in the scorching heat. _Shakuntala_ (_sighing_). I could not tell any one else. But I shall be a burden to you. _The two friends_. That is why we insist on knowing, dear. Grief must be shared to be endured. _King_. To friends who share her joy and grief She tells what sorrow laid her here; She turned to look her love again When first I saw her--yet I fear! _Shakuntala_. Ever since I saw the good king who protects the pious grove--(_She stops and fidgets_.) _The two friends_. Go on, dear. _Shakuntala_. I love him, and it makes me feel like this. _The two friends_. Good, good! You have found a lover worthy of your devotion. But of course, a great river always runs into the sea. _King_ (_joyfully_). I have heard what I longed to hear. 'Twas love that caused the burning pain; 'Tis love that eases it again; As when, upon a sultry day, Rain breaks, and washes grief away. _Shakuntala_. Then, if you think best, make the good king take pity upon me. If not, remember that I was. _King_. Her words end all doubt. _Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Anusuya, she is far gone in love and cannot endure any delay. _Anusuya_. Priyamvada, can you think of any scheme by which we could carry out her wishes quickly and secretly? _Priyamvada_. We must plan about the "secretly." The "quickly" is not hard. _Anusuya_. How so? _Priyamvada_. Why, the good king shows his love for her in his tender glances, and he has been wasting away, as if he were losing sleep. _King_. It is quite true. The hot tears, flowing down my cheek All night on my supporting arm And on its golden bracelet, seek To stain the gems and do them harm. The bracelet slipping o'er the scars Upon the wasted arm, that show My deeds in hunting and in wars, All night is moving to and fro. _Priyamvada_ (_reflecting_). Well, she must write him a love-letter. And I will hide it in a bunch of flowers and see that it gets into the king's hand as if it were a relic of the sacrifice. _Anusuya_. It is a pretty plan, dear, and it pleases me. What does Shakuntala say? _Shakuntala_. I suppose I must obey orders. _Priyamvada_. Then compose a pretty little love-song, with a hint of yourself in it. _Shakuntala_. I'll try. But my heart trembles, for fear he will despise me. _King_. Here stands the eager lover, and you pale For fear lest he disdain a love so kind: The seeker may find fortune, or may fail; But how could fortune, seeking, fail to find? And again: The ardent lover comes, and yet you fear Lest he disdain love's tribute, were it brought, The hope of which has led his footsteps here-- Pearls need not seek, for they themselves are sought. _The two friends_. You are too modest about your own charms. Would anybody put up a parasol to keep off the soothing autumn moonlight? _Shakuntala_ (_smiling_). I suppose I shall have to obey orders. (_She meditates_.) _King_. It is only natural that I should forget to wink when I see my darling. For One clinging eyebrow lifted, As fitting words she seeks, Her face reveals her passion For me in glowing cheeks. _Shakuntala_. Well, I have thought out a little song. But I haven't anything to write with. _Priyamvada_. Here is a lotus-leaf, glossy as a parrot's breast. You can cut the letters in it with your nails. _Shakuntala_. Now listen, and tell me whether it makes sense. _The two friends_. Please. _Shakuntala_ (_reads_). I know not if I read your heart aright; Why, pitiless, do you distress me so? I only know that longing day and night Tosses my restless body to and fro, That yearns for you, the source of all its woe. _King_ (_advancing_). Though Love torments you, slender maid, Yet he consumes me quite, As daylight shuts night-blooming flowers And slays the moon outright. _The two friends_ (_perceive the king and rise joyfully_). Welcome to the wish that is fulfilled without delay. (SHAKUNTALA _tries to rise_.) _King_. Do not try to rise, beautiful Shakuntala. Your limbs from which the strength is fled, That crush the blossoms of your bed And bruise the lotus-leaves, may be Pardoned a breach of courtesy. _Shakuntala_ (_sadly to herself_). Oh, my heart, you were so impatient, and now you find no answer to make. _Anusuya_. Your Majesty, pray do this stone bench the honour of sitting upon it. (SHAKUNTALA _edges away_.) _King_ (_seating himself_). Priyamvada, I trust your friend's illness is not dangerous. _Priyamvada_ (_smiling_). A remedy is being applied and it will soon be better. It is plain, sir, that you and she love each other. But I love her too, and I must say something over again. _King_. Pray do not hesitate. It always causes pain in the end, to leave unsaid what one longs to say. _Priyamvada_. Then listen, sir. _King_. I am all attention. _Priyamvada_. It is the king's duty to save hermit-folk from all suffering. Is not that good Scripture? _King_. There is no text more urgent. _Priyamvada_. Well, our friend has been brought to this sad state by her love for you. Will you not take pity on her and save her life? _King_. We cherish the same desire. I feel it a great honour. _Shakuntala_ (_with a jealous smile_). Oh, don't detain the good king. He is separated from the court ladies, and he is anxious to go back to them. _King_. Bewitching eyes that found my heart, You surely see It could no longer live apart, Nor faithless be. I bear Love's arrows as I can; Wound not with doubt a wounded man. _Anusuya_. But, your Majesty, we hear that kings have many favourites. You must act in such a way that our friend may not become a cause of grief to her family. _King_. What more can I say? Though many queens divide my court, But two support the throne; Your friend will find a rival in The sea-girt earth alone. _The two friends_. We are content. (SHAKUNTALA _betrays her joy_.) _Priyamvada_ (_aside to_ ANUSUYA). Look, Anusuya! See how the dear girl's life is coming back moment by moment--just like a peahen in summer when the first rainy breezes come. _Shakuntala_. You must please ask the king's pardon for the rude things we said when we were talking together. _The two friends_ (_smiling_). Anybody who says it was rude, may ask his pardon. Nobody else feels guilty. _Shakuntala_. Your Majesty, pray forgive what we said when we did not know that you were present. I am afraid that we say a great many things behind a person's back. _King_ (_smiling_). Your fault is pardoned if I may Relieve my weariness By sitting on the flower-strewn couch Your fevered members press. _Priyamvada_. But that will not be enough to satisfy him. _Shakuntala_ (_feigning anger_). Stop! You are a rude girl. You make fun of me when I am in this condition. _Anusuya_ (_looking out of the arbour_). Priyamvada, there is a little fawn, looking all about him. He has probably lost his mother and is trying to find her. I am going to help him. _Priyamvada_. He is a frisky little fellow. You can't catch him alone. I'll go with you. (_They start to go_.) _Shakuntala_. I will not let you go and leave me alone. _The two friends_ (_smiling_). You alone, when the king of the world is with you! (_Exeunt_.) _Shakuntala_. Are my friends gone? _King_ (_looking about_). Do not be anxious, beautiful Shakuntala. Have you not a humble servant here, to take the place of your friends? Then tell me: Shall I employ the moistened lotus-leaf To fan away your weariness and grief? Or take your lily feet upon my knee And rub them till you rest more easily? _Shakuntala_. I will not offend against those to whom I owe honour. (_She rises weakly and starts to walk away_.) _King_ (_detaining her_). The day is still hot, beautiful Shakuntala, and you are feverish. Leave not the blossom-dotted couch To wander in the midday heat, With lotus-petals on your breast, With fevered limbs and stumbling feet. (_He lays his hand upon her_.) _Shakuntala_. Oh, don't! Don't! For I am not mistress of myself. Yet what can I do now? I had no one to help me but my friends. _King_. I am rebuked. _Shakuntala_. I was not thinking of your Majesty. I was accusing fate. _King_. Why accuse a fate that brings what you desire? _Shakuntala_. Why not accuse a fate that robs me of self-control and tempts me with the virtues of another? _King_ (_to himself_). Though deeply longing, maids are coy And bid their wooers wait; Though eager for united joy In love, they hesitate. Love cannot torture them, nor move Their hearts to sudden mating; Perhaps they even torture love By their procrastinating. (SHAKUNTALA _moves away_.) _King_. Why should I not have my way? (_He approaches and seizes her dress_.) _Shakuntala_. Oh, sir! Be a gentleman. There are hermits wandering about. _King_. Do not fear your family, beautiful Shakuntala. Father Kanva knows the holy law. He will not regret it. For many a hermit maiden who By simple, voluntary rite Dispensed with priest and witness, yet Found favour in her father's sight. (_He looks about_.) Ah, I have come into the open air. (_He leaves_ SHAKUNTALA _and retraces his steps_.) _Shakuntala_ (_takes a step, then turns with an eager gesture_). O King, I cannot do as you would have me. You hardly know me after this short talk. But oh, do not forget me. _King_. When evening comes, the shadow of the tree Is cast far forward, yet does not depart; Even so, belovèd, wheresoe'er you be, The thought of you can never leave my heart. _Shakuntala_ (_takes a few steps. To herself_). Oh, oh! When I hear him speak so, my feet will not move away. I will hide in this amaranth hedge and see how long his love lasts. (_She hides and waits_.) _King_. Oh, my belovèd, my love for you is my whole life, yet you leave me and go away without a thought. Your body, soft as siris-flowers, Engages passion's utmost powers; How comes it that your heart is hard As stalks that siris-blossoms guard? _Shakuntala_. When I hear this, I have no power to go. _King_. What have I to do here, where she is not? (_He gazes on the ground_.) Ah, I cannot go. The perfumed lotus-chain That once was worn by her Fetters and keeps my heart A hopeless prisoner. (_He lifts it reverently_.) _Shakuntala_ (_looking at her arm_). Why, I was so weak and ill that when the lotus-bracelet fell off, I did not even notice it. _King_ (_laying the lotus-bracelet on his heart_). Ah! Once, dear, on your sweet arm it lay, And on my heart shall ever stay; Though you disdain to give me joy, I find it in a lifeless toy. _Shakuntala_. I cannot hold back after that. I will use the bracelet as an excuse for my coming. (_She approaches_.) _King_ (_seeing her. Joyfully_). The queen of my life! As soon as I complained, fate proved kind to me. No sooner did the thirsty bird With parching throat complain, Than forming clouds in heaven stirred And sent the streaming rain. _Shakuntala_ (_standing before the king_). When I was going away, sir, I remembered that this lotus-bracelet had fallen from my arm, and I have come back for it. My heart seemed to tell me that you had taken it. Please give it back, or you will betray me, and yourself too, to the hermits. _King_. I will restore it on one condition. _Shakuntala_. What condition? _King_. That I may myself place it where it belongs. _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). What can I do? (_She approaches_.) _King_. Let us sit on this stone bench. (_They walk to the bench and sit down_.) _King_ (_taking_ SHAKUNTALA'S _hand_). Ah! When Shiva's anger burned the tree Of love in quenchless fire, Did heavenly fate preserve a shoot To deck my heart's desire? _Shakuntala_ (_feeling his touch_). Hasten, my dear, hasten. _King_ (_joyfully to himself_). Now I am content. She speaks as a wife to her husband. (_Aloud_.) Beautiful Shakuntala, the clasp of the bracelet is not very firm. May I fasten it in another way? _Shakuntala_ (_smiling_). If you like. _King_ (_artfully delaying before he fastens it_). See, my beautiful girl! The lotus-chain is dazzling white As is the slender moon at night. Perhaps it was the moon on high That joined her horns and left the sky, Believing that your lovely arm Would, more than heaven, enhance her charm. _Shakuntala_. I cannot see it. The pollen from the lotus over my ear has blown into my eye. _King_ (_smiling_). Will you permit me to blow it away? _Shakuntala_. I should not like to be an object of pity. But why should I not trust you? _King_. Do not have such thoughts. A new servant does not transgress orders. _Shakuntala_. It is this exaggerated courtesy that frightens me. _King_ (_to himself_). I shall not break the bonds of this sweet servitude. (_He starts to raise her face to his_. SHAKUNTALA _resists a little, then is passive_.) _King_. Oh, my bewitching girl, have no fear of me. (SHAKUNTALA _darts a glance at him, then looks down. The king raises her face. Aside_.) Her sweetly trembling lip With virgin invitation Provokes my soul to sip Delighted fascination. _Shakuntala_. You seem slow, dear, in fulfilling your promise. _King_. The lotus over your ear is so near your eye, and so like it, that I was confused. (_He gently blows her eye_.) _Shakuntala_. Thank you. I can see quite well now. But I am ashamed not to make any return for your kindness. _King_. What more could I ask? It ought to be enough for me To hover round your fragrant face; Is not the lotus-haunting bee Content with perfume and with grace? _Shakuntala_. But what does he do if he is not content? _King_. This! This! (_He draws her face to his_.) _A voice behind the scenes_. O sheldrake bride, bid your mate farewell. The night is come. _Shakuntala_ (_listening excitedly_). Oh, my dear, this is Mother Gautami, come to inquire about me. Please hide among the branches. (_The king conceals himself. Enter _GAUTAMI, _with a bowl in her hand_.) _Gautami_. Here is the holy water, my child. (_She sees_ SHAKUNTALA _and helps her to rise_.) So ill, and all alone here with the gods? _Shakuntala_. It was just a moment ago that Priyamvada and Anusuya went down to the river. _Gautami_ (_sprinkling_ SHAKUNTALA _with the holy water_). May you live long and happy, my child. Has the fever gone down? (_She touches her_.) _Shakuntala_. There is a difference, mother. _Gautami_. The sun is setting. Come, let us go to the cottage. _Shakuntala_ (_weakly rising. To herself_). Oh, my heart, you delayed when your desire came of itself. Now see what you have done. (_She takes a step, then turns around. Aloud_.) O bower that took away my pain, I bid you farewell until another blissful hour. (_Exeunt_ SHAKUNTALA _and_ GAUTAMI.) _King_ (_advancing with a sigh_.) The path to happiness is strewn with obstacles. Her face, adorned with soft eye-lashes, Adorable with trembling flashes Of half-denial, in memory lingers; The sweet lips guarded by her fingers, The head that drooped upon her shoulder-- Why was I not a little bolder? Where shall I go now? Let me stay a moment in this bower where my belovèd lay. (_He looks about_.) The flower-strewn bed whereon her body tossed; The bracelet, fallen from her arm and lost; The dear love-missive, in the lotus-leaf Cut by her nails: assuage my absent grief And occupy my eyes--I have no power, Though she is gone, to leave the reedy bower. (_He reflects_.) Alas! I did wrong to delay when I had found my love. So now If she will grant me but one other meeting, I'll not delay; for happiness is fleeting; So plans my foolish, self-defeated heart; But when she comes, I play the coward's part. _A voice behind the scenes_. O King! The flames rise heavenward from the evening altar; And round the sacrifices, blazing high, Flesh-eating demons stalk, like red cloud-masses, And cast colossal shadows on the sky. _King_ (_listens. Resolutely_). Have no fear, hermits. I am here. (_Exit_.) ACT IV SHAKUNTALA'S DEPARTURE SCENE I (_Enter the two friends, gathering flowers_.) _Anusuya_. Priyamvada, dear Shakuntala has been properly married by the voluntary ceremony and she has a husband worthy of her. And yet I am not quite satisfied. _Priyamvada_. Why not? _Anusuya_. The sacrifice is over and the good king was dismissed to-day by the hermits. He has gone back to the city and there he is surrounded by hundreds of court ladies. I wonder whether he will remember poor Shakuntala or not. _Priyamvada_. You need not be anxious about that. Such handsome men are sure to be good. But there is something else to think about. I don't know what Father will have to say when he comes back from his pilgrimage and hears about it. _Anusuya_. I believe that he will be pleased. _Priyamvada_. Why? _Anusuya_. Why not? You know he wanted to give his daughter to a lover worthy of her. If fate brings this about of itself, why shouldn't Father be happy? _Priyamvada_. I suppose you are right. (_She looks at her flower-basket_.) My dear, we have gathered flowers enough for the sacrifice. _Anusuya_. But we must make an offering to the gods that watch over Shakuntala's marriage. We had better gather more. _Priyamvada_. Very well. (_They do so_.) _A voice behind the scenes_. Who will bid me welcome? _Anusuya_ (_listening_). My dear, it sounds like a guest announcing himself. _Priyamvada_. Well, Shakuntala is near the cottage. (_Reflecting_.) Ah, but to-day her heart is far away. Come, we must do with the flowers we have. (_They start to walk away_.) _The voice_. Do you dare despise a guest like me? Because your heart, by loving fancies blinded, Has scorned a guest in pious life grown old, Your lover shall forget you though reminded, Or think of you as of a story told. (_The two girls listen and show dejection_.) _Priyamvada_. Oh, dear! The very thing has happened. The dear, absent-minded girl has offended some worthy man. _Anusuya_ (_looking ahead_). My dear, this is no ordinary somebody. It is the great sage Durvasas, the irascible. See how he strides away! _Priyamvada_. Nothing burns like fire. Run, fall at his feet, bring him back, while I am getting water to wash his feet. _Anusuya_. I will. (_Exit_.) _Priyamvada_ (_stumbling_). There! I stumbled in my excitement, and the flower-basket fell out of my hand. (_She collects the scattered flowers_. ANUSUYA _returns_.) _Anusuya_. My dear, he is anger incarnate. Who could appease him? But I softened him a little. _Priyamvada_. Even that is a good deal for him. Tell me about it. _Anusuya_. When he would not turn back, I fell at his feet and prayed to him. "Holy sir," I said, "remember her former devotion and pardon this offence. Your daughter did not recognise your great and holy power to-day." _Priyamvada_. And then---- _Anusuya_. Then he said: "My words must be fulfilled. But the curse shall be lifted when her lover sees a gem which he has given her for a token." And so he vanished. _Priyamvada_. We can breathe again. When the good king went away, he put a ring, engraved with his own name, on Shakuntala's finger to remember him by. That will save her. _Anusuya_. Come, we must finish the sacrifice for her. (_They walk about_.) _Priyamvada_ (_gazing_). Just look, Anusuya! There is the dear girl, with her cheek resting on her left hand. She looks like a painted picture. She is thinking about him. How could she notice a guest when she has forgotten herself? _Anusuya_. Priyamvada, we two must keep this thing to ourselves. We must be careful of the dear girl. You know how delicate she is. _Priyamvada_. Would any one sprinkle a jasmine-vine with scalding water? (_Exeunt ambo_.) SCENE II.--_Early Morning_ (_Enter a pupil of_ KANVA, _just risen from sleep_.) _Pupil_. Father Kanva has returned from his pilgrimage, and has bidden me find out what time it is. I will go into the open air and see how much of the night remains. (_He walks and looks about_.) See! The dawn is breaking. For already The moon behind the western mount is sinking; The eastern sun is heralded by dawn; From heaven's twin lights, their fall and glory linking, Brave lessons of submission may be drawn. And again: Night-blooming lilies, when the moon is hidden, Have naught but memories of beauty left. Hard, hard to bear! Her lot whom heaven has bidden To live alone, of love and lover reft. And again: On jujube-trees the blushing dewdrops falter; The peacock wakes and leaves the cottage thatch; A deer is rising near the hoof-marked altar, And stretching, stands, the day's new life to catch. And yet again: The moon that topped the loftiest mountain ranges, That slew the darkness in the midmost sky, Is fallen from heaven, and all her glory changes: So high to rise, so low at last to lie! _Anusuya_ (_entering hurriedly. To herself_). That is just what happens to the innocent. Shakuntala has been treated shamefully by the king. _Pupil_. I will tell Father Kanva that the hour of morning sacrifice is come. (_Exit_.) _Anusuya_. The dawn is breaking. I am awake bright and early. But what shall I do now that I am awake? My hands refuse to attend to the ordinary morning tasks. Well, let love take its course. For the dear, pure-minded girl trusted him--the traitor! Perhaps it is not the good king's fault. It must be the curse of Durvasas. Otherwise, how could the good king say such beautiful things, and then let all this time pass without even sending a message? (_She reflects_.) Yes, we must send him the ring he left as a token. But whom shall we ask to take it? The hermits are unsympathetic because they have never suffered. It seemed as if her friends were to blame and so, try as we might, we could not tell Father Kanva that Shakuntala was married to Dushyanta and was expecting a baby. Oh, what shall we do? (_Enter_ PRIYAMVADA.) _Priyamvada_. Hurry, Anusuya, hurry! We are getting Shakuntala ready for her journey. _Anusuya_ (_astonished_). What do you mean, my dear? _Priyamuada_. Listen. I just went to Shakuntala, to ask if she had slept well. _Anusuya_. And then---- _Priyamvada_. I found her hiding her face for shame, and Father Kanva was embracing her and encouraging her. "My child," he said, "I bring you joy. The offering fell straight in the sacred fire, and auspicious smoke rose toward the sacrificer. My pains for you have proved like instruction given to a good student; they have brought me no regret. This very day I shall give you an escort of hermits and send you to your husband." _Anusuya_. But, my dear, who told Father Kanva about it? _Priyamvada_. A voice from heaven that recited a verse when he had entered the fire-sanctuary. _Anusuya_ (_astonished_). What did it say? _Priyamvada_. Listen. (_Speaking in good Sanskrit_.) Know, Brahman, that your child, Like the fire-pregnant tree, Bears kingly seed that shall be born For earth's prosperity. _Anusuya_ (_hugging_ PRIYAMVADA). I am so glad, dear. But my joy is half sorrow when I think that Shakuntala is going to be taken away this very day. _Priyamvada_. We must hide our sorrow as best we can. The poor girl must be made happy to-day. _Anusuya_. Well, here is a cocoa-nut casket, hanging on a branch of the mango-tree. I put flower-pollen in it for this very purpose. It keeps fresh, you know. Now you wrap it in a lotus-leaf, and I will get yellow pigment and earth from a sacred spot and blades of panic grass for the happy ceremony. (PRIYAMVADA _does so. Exit_ ANUSUYA.) _A voice behind the scenes_. Gautami, bid the worthy Sharngarava and Sharadvata make ready to escort my daughter Shakuntala. _Priyamvada_ (_listening_). Hurry, Anusuya, hurry! They are calling the hermits who are going to Hastinapura. (_Enter_ ANUSUYA, _with materials for the ceremony_.) _Anusuya_. Come, dear, let us go. (_They walk about_.) _Priyamvada_ (_looking ahead_). There is Shakuntala. She took the ceremonial bath at sunrise, and now the hermit-women are giving her rice-cakes and wishing her happiness. Let's go to her. (_They do so. Enter_ SHAKUNTALA _with attendants as described, and_ GAUTAMI.) _Shakuntala_. Holy women, I salute you. _Gautami_. My child, may you receive the happy title "queen," showing that your husband honours you. _Hermit-women_. My dear, may you become the mother of a hero. (_Exeunt all but_ GAUTAMI.) _The two friends_ (_approaching_). Did you have a good bath, dear? _Shakuntala_. Good morning, girls. Sit here. _The two friends_ (_seating themselves_). Now stand straight, while we go through the happy ceremony. _Shakuntala_. It has happened often enough, but I ought to be very grateful to-day. Shall I ever be adorned by my friends again? (_She weeps_.) _The two friends_. You ought not to weep, dear, at this happy time. (_They wipe the tears away and adorn her_.) _Priyamvada_. You are so beautiful, you ought to have the finest gems. It seems like an insult to give you these hermitage things. (_Enter_ HARITA, _a hermit-youth with ornaments_.) _Harita_. Here are ornaments for our lady. (_The women look at them in astonishment_.) _Gautami_. Harita, my son, whence come these things? _Harita_. From the holy power of Father Kanva. _Gautami_. A creation of his mind? _Harita_. Not quite. Listen. Father Kanva sent us to gather blossoms from the trees for Shakuntala, and then One tree bore fruit, a silken marriage dress That shamed the moon in its white loveliness; Another gave us lac-dye for the feet; From others, fairy hands extended, sweet Like flowering twigs, as far as to the wrist, And gave us gems, to adorn her as we list. _Priyamvada_ (_Looking at_ SHAKUNTALA). A bee may be born in a hole in a tree, but she likes the honey of the lotus. _Gautami_. This gracious favour is a token of the queenly happiness which you are to enjoy in your husband's palace. (SHAKUNTALA _shows embarrassment_.) _Harita_. Father Kanva has gone to the bank of the Malini, to perform his ablutions. I will tell him of the favour shown us by the trees. (_Exit_.) _Anusuya_. My dear, we poor girls never saw such ornaments. How shall we adorn you? (_She stops to think, and to look at the ornaments_.) But we have seen pictures. Perhaps we can arrange them right. _Shakuntala_. I know how clever you are. (_The two friends adorn her. Enter_ KANVA, _returning after his ablutions_.) _Kanva_. Shakuntala must go to-day; I miss her now at heart; I dare not speak a loving word Or choking tears will start. My eyes are dim with anxious thought; Love strikes me to the life: And yet I strove for pious peace-- I have no child, no wife. What must a father feel, when come The pangs of parting from his child at home? (_He walks about_.) _The two friends_. There, Shakuntala, we have arranged your ornaments. Now put on this beautiful silk dress. (SHAKUNTALA _rises and does so_.) _Gautami_. My child, here is your father. The eyes with which he seems to embrace you are overflowing with tears of joy. You must greet him properly. (SHAKUNTALA _makes a shamefaced reverence_.) _Kanva_. My child, Like Sharmishtha, Yayati's wife, Win favour measured by your worth; And may you bear a kingly son Like Puru, who shall rule the earth. _Gautami_. My child, this is not a prayer, but a benediction. _Kanva_. My daughter, walk from left to right about the fires in which the offering has just been thrown. (_All walk about_.) The holy fires around the altar kindle, And at their margins sacred grass is piled; Beneath their sacrificial odours dwindle Misfortunes. May the fires protect you, child! (SHAKUNTALA _walks about them from left to right_.) _Kanva_. Now you may start, my daughter. (_He glances about_.) Where are Sharngarava and Sharadvata? (_Enter the two pupils_.) _The two pupils_. We are here, Father. _Kanva_. Sharngarava, my son, lead the way for your sister. _Sharngarava_. Follow me. (_They all walk about_.) _Kanva_. O trees of the pious grove, in which the fairies dwell, She would not drink till she had wet Your roots, a sister's duty, Nor pluck your flowers; she loves you yet Far more than selfish beauty. 'Twas festival in her pure life When budding blossoms showed; And now she leaves you as a wife-- Oh, speed her on her road! _Sharngarava_ (_listening to the song of koïl-birds_). Father, The trees are answering your prayer In cooing cuckoo-song, Bidding Shakuntala farewell, Their sister for so long. _Invisible beings_, May lily-dotted lakes delight your eye; May shade-trees bid the heat of noonday cease; May soft winds blow the lotus-pollen nigh; May all your path be pleasantness and peace. (_All listen in astonishment_.) _Gautami_. My child, the fairies of the pious grove bid you farewell. For they love the household. Pay reverence to the holy ones. _Shakuntala_ (_does so. Aside to_ PRIYAMVADA). Priyamvada, I long to see my husband, and yet my feet will hardly move. It is hard, hard to leave the hermitage. _Priyamvada_. You are not the only one to feel sad at this farewell. See how the whole grove feels at parting from you. The grass drops from the feeding doe; The peahen stops her dance; Pale, trembling leaves are falling slow, The tears of clinging plants. _Shakuntala_ (_recalling something_). Father, I must say good-bye to the spring-creeper, my sister among the vines. _Kanva_. I know your love for her. See! Here she is at your right hand. _Shakuntala_ (_approaches the vine and embraces it_). Vine sister, embrace me too with your arms, these branches. I shall be far away from you after to-day. Father, you must care for her as you did for me. _Kanva_. My child, you found the lover who Had long been sought by me; No longer need I watch for you; I'll give the vine a lover true, This handsome mango-tree. And now start on your journey. _Shakuntala_ (_going to the two friends_). Dear girls, I leave her in your care too. _The two friends_. But who will care for poor us? (_They shed tears_.) _Kanva_. Anusuya! Priyamvada! Do not weep. It is you who should cheer Shakuntala. (_All walk about_.) _Shakuntala_. Father, there is the pregnant doe, wandering about near the cottage. When she becomes a happy mother, you must send some one to bring me the good news. Do not forget. _Kanva_. I shall not forget, my child. _Shakuntala_ (_stumbling_) Oh, oh! Who is it that keeps pulling at my dress, as if to hinder me? (_She turns round to see_.) _Kanva_. It is the fawn whose lip, when torn By kusha-grass, you soothed with oil; The fawn who gladly nibbled corn Held in your hand; with loving toil You have adopted him, and he Would never leave you willingly. _Shakuntala_. My dear, why should you follow me when I am going away from home? Your mother died when you were born and I brought you up. Now I am leaving you, and Father Kanva will take care of you. Go back, dear! Go back! (_She walks away, weeping_.) _Kanva_. Do not weep, my child. Be brave. Look at the path before you. Be brave, and check the rising tears That dim your lovely eyes; Your feet are stumbling on the path That so uneven lies. _Sharngarava_. Holy Father, the Scripture declares that one should accompany a departing loved one only to the first water. Pray give us your commands on the bank of this pond, and then return. _Kanva_. Then let us rest in the shade of this fig-tree. (_All do so_.) What commands would it be fitting for me to lay on King Dushyanta? (_He reflects_.) _Anusuya_. My dear, there is not a living thing in the whole hermitage that is not grieving to-day at saying good-bye to you. Look! The sheldrake does not heed his mate Who calls behind the lotus-leaf; He drops the lily from his bill And turns on you a glance of grief. _Kanva_. Son Sharngarava, when you present Shakuntala to the king, give him this message from me. Remembering my religious worth, Your own high race, the love poured forth By her, forgetful of her friends, Pay her what honour custom lends To all your wives. And what fate gives Beyond, will please her relatives. _Sharngarava_. I will not forget your message, Father. _Kanva_ (_turning to_ SHAKUNTALA). My child, I must now give you my counsel. Though I live in the forest, I have some knowledge of the world. _Sharngarava_. True wisdom, Father, gives insight into everything. _Kanva_. My child, when you have entered your husband's home, Obey your elders; and be very kind To rivals; never be perversely blind And angry with your husband, even though he Should prove less faithful than a man might be; Be as courteous to servants as you may, Not puffed with pride in this your happy day: Thus does a maiden grow into a wife; But self-willed women are the curse of life. But what does Gautami say? _Gautami_. This is advice sufficient for a bride. (_To_ SHAKUNTALA.) You will not forget, my child. _Kanva_. Come, my daughter, embrace me and your friends. _Shakuntala_. Oh, Father! Must my friends turn back too? _Kanva_. My daughter, they too must some day be given in marriage. Therefore they may not go to court. Gautami will go with you. _Shakuntala_ (_throwing her arms about her father_). I am torn from my father's breast like a vine stripped from a sandal-tree on the Malabar hills. How can I live in another soil? (_She weeps_.) _Kanva_. My daughter, why distress yourself so? A noble husband's honourable wife, You are to spend a busy, useful life In the world's eye; and soon, as eastern skies Bring forth the sun, from you there shall arise A child, a blessing and a comfort strong-- You will not miss me, dearest daughter, long. _Shakuntala_ (_falling at his feet_). Farewell, Father. _Kanva_. My daughter, may all that come to you which I desire for you. _Shakuntala_ (_going to her two friends_). Come, girls! Embrace me, both of you together. _The two friends_ (_do so_). Dear, if the good king should perhaps be slow to recognise you, show him the ring with his own name engraved on it. _Shakuntala_. Your doubts make my heart beat faster. _The two friends_. Do not be afraid, dear. Love is timid. _Sharngarava_ (_looking about_). Father, the sun is in mid-heaven. She must hasten. _Shakuntala_ (_embracing_ KANVA _once more_). Father, when shall I see the pious grove again? _Kanva_. My daughter, When you have shared for many years The king's thoughts with the earth, When to a son who knows no fears You shall have given birth, When, trusted to the son you love, Your royal labours cease, Come with your husband to the grove And end your days in peace. _Gautami_. My child, the hour of your departure is slipping by. Bid your father turn back. No, she would never do that. Pray turn back, sir. _Kanva_. Child, you interrupt my duties in the pious grove. _Shakuntala_. Yes, Father. You will be busy in the grove. You will not miss me. But oh! I miss you. _Kanva_. How can you think me so indifferent? (_He sighs_.) My lonely sorrow will not go, For seeds you scattered here Before the cottage door, will grow; And I shall see them, dear. Go. And peace go with you. (_Exit_ SHAKUNTALA, _with_ GAUTAMI, SHARNGARAVA, _and_ SHARADVATA.) _The two friends_ (_gazing long after her. Mournfully_). Oh, oh! Shakuntala is lost among the trees. _Kanva_. Anusuya! Priyamvada! Your companion is gone. Choke down your grief and follow me. (_They start to go back_.) _The two friends_. Father, the grove seems empty without Shakuntala. _Kanva_. So love interprets. (_He walks about, sunk in thought_.) Ah! I have sent Shakuntala away, and now I am myself again. For A girl is held in trust, another's treasure; To arms of love my child to-day is given; And now I feel a calm and sacred pleasure; I have restored the pledge that came from heaven. (_Exeunt omnes_.) ACT V SHAKUNTALA'S REJECTION (_Enter a chamberlain_.) _Chamberlain_ (_sighing_). Alas! To what a state am I reduced! I once assumed the staff of reed For custom's sake alone, As officer to guard at need. The ladies round the throne. But years have passed away and made It serve, my tottering steps to aid. The king is within. I will tell him of the urgent business which demands his attention. (_He takes a few steps_.) But what is the business? (_He recalls it_.) Yes, I remember. Certain hermits, pupils of Kanva, desire to see his Majesty. Strange, strange! The mind of age is like a lamp Whose oil is running thin; One moment it is shining bright, Then darkness closes in. (_He walks and looks about_.) Here is his Majesty. He does not seek--until a father's care Is shown his subjects--rest in solitude; As a great elephant recks not of the sun Until his herd is sheltered in the wood. In truth, I hesitate to announce the coming of Kanva's pupils to the king. For he has this moment risen from the throne of justice. But kings are never weary. For The sun unyokes his horses never; Blows night and day the breeze; Shesha upholds the world forever: And kings are like to these. (_He walks about. Enter the king, the clown, and retinue according to rank_.) _King_ (_betraying the cares of office_). Every one is happy on attaining his desire--except a king. His difficulties increase with his power. Thus: Security slays nothing but ambition; With great possessions, troubles gather thick; Pain grows, not lessens, with a king's position, As when one's hand must hold the sunshade's stick. _Two court poets behind the scenes_. Victory to your Majesty. _First poet_. The world you daily guard and bless, Not heeding pain or weariness; Thus is your nature made. A tree will brave the noonday, when The sun is fierce, that weary men May rest beneath its shade. _Second poet_. Vice bows before the royal rod; Strife ceases at your kingly nod; You are our strong defender. Friends come to all whose wealth is sure, But you, alike to rich and poor, Are friend both strong and tender. _King_ (_listening_). Strange! I was wearied by the demands of my office, but this renews my spirit. _Clown_. Does a bull forget that he is tired when you call him the leader of the herd? _King_ (_smiling_). Well, let us sit down. (_They seat themselves, and the retinue arranges itself. A lute is heard behind the scenes_.) _Clown_ (_listening_). My friend, listen to what is going on in the music-room. Some one is playing a lute, and keeping good time. I suppose Lady Hansavati is practising. _King_. Be quiet. I wish to listen. _Chamberlain_ (_looks at the king_). Ah, the king is occupied. I must await his leisure. (_He stands aside_.) _A song behind the scenes_. You who kissed the mango-flower, Honey-loving bee, Gave her all your passion's power, Ah, so tenderly! How can you be tempted so By the lily, pet? Fresher honey's sweet, I know; But can you forget? _King_. What an entrancing song! _Clown_. But, man, don't you understand what the words mean? _King_ (_smiling_). I was once devoted to Queen Hansavati. And the rebuke comes from her. Friend Madhavya, tell Queen Hansavati in my name that the rebuke is a very pretty one. _Clown_. Yes, sir. (_He rises_.) But, man, you are using another fellow's fingers to grab a bear's tail-feathers with. I have about as much chance of salvation as a monk who hasn't forgotten his passions. _King_. Go. Soothe her like a gentleman. _Clown_. I suppose I must. (_Exit_.) _King_ (_to himself_). Why am I filled with wistfulness on hearing such a song? I am not separated from one I love. And yet In face of sweet presentment Or harmonies of sound, Man e'er forgets contentment, By wistful longings bound. There must be recollections Of things not seen on earth, Deep nature's predilections, Loves earlier than birth. (_He shows the wistfulness that comes from unremembered things_.) _Chamberlain_ (_approaching_). Victory to your Majesty. Here are hermits who dwell in the forest at the foot of the Himalayas. They bring women with them, and they carry a message from Kanva. What is your pleasure with regard to them? _King_ (_astonished_). Hermits? Accompanied by women? From Kanva? _Chamberlain_. Yes. _King_. Request my chaplain Somarata in my name to receive these hermits in the manner prescribed by Scripture, and to conduct them himself before me. I will await them in a place fit for their reception. _Chamberlain_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.) _King_ (_rising_). Vetravati, conduct me to the fire-sanctuary. _Portress_. Follow me, your Majesty. (_She walks about_) Your Majesty, here is the terrace of the fire-sanctuary. It is beautiful, for it has just been swept, and near at hand is the cow that yields the milk of sacrifice. Pray ascend it. _King_ (_ascends and stands leaning on the shoulder of an attendant_.) Vetravati, with what purpose does Father Kanva send these hermits to me? Do leaguèd powers of sin conspire To balk religion's pure desire? Has wrong been done to beasts that roam Contented round the hermits' home? Do plants no longer bud and flower, To warn me of abuse of power? These doubts and more assail my mind, But leave me puzzled, lost, and blind. _Portress_. How could these things be in a hermitage that rests in the fame of the king's arm? No, I imagine they have come to pay homage to their king, and to congratulate him on his pious rule. (_Enter the chaplain and the chamberlain, conducting the two pupils of_ KANVA, _with_ GAUTAMI _and_ SHAKUNTALA.) _Chamberlain_. Follow me, if you please. _Sharngarava_. Friend Sharadvata, The king is noble and to virtue true; None dwelling here commit the deed of shame; Yet we ascetics view the worldly crew As in a house all lapped about with flame. _Sharadvata_. Sharngarava, your emotion on entering the city is quite just. As for me, Free from the world and all its ways, I see them spending worldly days As clean men view men smeared with oil, As pure men, those whom passions soil, As waking men view men asleep, As free men, those in bondage deep. _Chaplain_. That is why men like you are great. _Shakuntala_ (_observing an evil omen_). Oh, why does my right eye throb? _Gautami_. Heaven avert the omen, my child. May happiness wait upon you. (_They walk about_.) _Chaplain_ (_indicating the king_). O hermits, here is he who protects those of every station and of every age. He has already risen, and awaits you. Behold him. _Sharngarava_. Yes, it is admirable, but not surprising. For Fruit-laden trees bend down to earth; The water-pregnant clouds hang low; Good men are not puffed up by power-- The unselfish are by nature so. _Portress_. Your Majesty, the hermits seem to be happy. They give you gracious looks. _King_ (_observing_ SHAKUNTALA). Ah! Who is she, shrouded in the veil That dims her beauty's lustre, Among the hermits like a flower Round which the dead leaves cluster? _Portress_. Your Majesty, she is well worth looking at. _King_. Enough! I must not gaze upon another's wife. _Shakuntala_ (_laying her hand on her breast. Aside_). Oh, my heart, why tremble so? Remember his constant love and be brave. _Chaplain_ (_advancing_). Hail, your Majesty. The hermits have been received as Scripture enjoins. They have a message from their teacher. May you be pleased to hear it. _King_ (_respectfully_). I am all attention. _The two pupils_ (_raising their right hands_). Victory, O King. _King_ (_bowing low_). I salute you all. _The two pupils_. All hail. _King_. Does your pious life proceed without disturbance? _The two pupils_. How could the pious duties fail While you defend the right? Or how could darkness' power prevail O'er sunbeams shining bright? _King_ (_to himself_). Indeed, my royal title is no empty one. (_Aloud_.) Is holy Kanva in health? _Sharngarava_. O King, those who have religious power can command health. He asks after your welfare and sends this message. _King_. What are his commands? _Sharngarava_. He says: "Since you have met this my daughter and have married her, I give you my glad consent. For You are the best of worthy men, they say; And she, I know, Good Works personified; The Creator wrought for ever and a day, In wedding such a virtuous groom and bride. She is with child. Take her and live with her in virtue." _Gautami_. Bless you, sir. I should like to say that no one invites me to speak. _King_. Speak, mother. _Gautami_. Did she with father speak or mother? Did you engage her friends in speech? Your faith was plighted each to other; Let each be faithful now to each. _Shakuntala_. What will my husband say? _King_ (_listening with anxious suspicion_). What is this insinuation? _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, oh! So haughty and so slanderous! _Sharngarava_. "What is this insinuation?" What is your question? Surely you know the world's ways well enough. Because the world suspects a wife Who does not share her husband's lot, Her kinsmen wish her to abide With him, although he love her not. _King_. You cannot mean that this young woman is my wife. _Shakuntala_ (_sadly to herself_). Oh, my heart, you feared it, and now it has come. _Sharngarava_. O King, A king, and shrink when love is done, Turn coward's back on truth, and flee! _King_. What means this dreadful accusation? _Sharngarava_ (_furiously_). O drunk with power! We might have known That you were steeped in treachery. _King_. A stinging rebuke! _Gautami_ (_to_ SHAKUNTALA). Forget your shame, my child. I will remove your veil. Then your husband will recognise you. (_She does so_.) _King_ (_observing_ SHAKUNTALA. _To himself_). As my heart ponders whether I could ever Have wed this woman that has come to me In tortured loveliness, as I endeavour To bring it back to mind, then like a bee That hovers round a jasmine flower at dawn, While frosty dews of morning still o'erweave it, And hesitates to sip ere they be gone, I cannot taste the sweet, and cannot leave it. _Portress_ (_to herself_). What a virtuous king he is! Would any other man hesitate when he saw such a pearl of a woman coming of her own accord? _Sharngarava_. Have you nothing to say, O King? _King_. Hermit, I have taken thought. I cannot believe that this woman is my wife. She is plainly with child. How can I take her, confessing myself an adulterer? _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, oh, oh! He even casts doubt on our marriage. The vine of my hope climbed high, but it is broken now. _Sharngarava_. Not so. You scorn the sage who rendered whole His child befouled, and choked his grief, Who freely gave you what you stole And added honour to a thief! _Sharadvata_. Enough, Sharngarava. Shakuntala, we have said what we were sent to say. You hear his words. Answer him. _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). He loved me so. He is so changed. Why remind him? Ah, but I must clear my own character. Well, I will try. (_Aloud_.) My dear husband--(_She stops_.) No, he doubts my right to call him that. Your Majesty, it was pure love that opened my poor heart to you in the hermitage. Then you were kind to me and gave me your promise. Is it right for you to speak so now, and to reject me? _King_ (_stopping his ears_). Peace, peace! A stream that eats away the bank, Grows foul, and undermines the tree. So you would stain your honour, while You plunge me into misery. _Shakuntala_. Very well. If you have acted so because you really fear to touch another man's wife, I will remove your doubts with a token you gave me. _King_. An excellent idea! _Shakuntala_ (_touching her finger_). Oh, oh! The ring is lost. (_She looks sadly at_ GAUTAMI.) _Gautami_. My child, you worshipped the holy Ganges at the spot where Indra descended. The ring must have fallen there. _King_. Ready wit, ready wit! _Shakuntala_. Fate is too strong for me there. I will tell you something else. _King_. Let me hear what you have to say. _Shakuntala_. One day, in the bower of reeds, you were holding a lotus-leaf cup full of water. _King_. I hear you. _Shakuntala_. At that moment the fawn came up, my adopted son. Then you took pity on him and coaxed him. "Let him drink first," you said. But he did not know you, and he would not come to drink water from your hand. But he liked it afterwards, when I held the very same water. Then you smiled and said: "It is true. Every one trusts his own sort. You both belong to the forest." _King_. It is just such women, selfish, sweet, false, that entice fools. _Gautami_. You have no right to say that. She grew up in the pious grove. She does not know how to deceive. _King_. Old hermit woman, The female's untaught cunning may be seen In beasts, far more in women selfish-wise; The cuckoo's eggs are left to hatch and rear By foster-parents, and away she flies. _Shakuntala_ (_angrily_). Wretch! You judge all this by your own false heart. Would any other man do what you have done? To hide behind virtue, like a yawning well covered over with grass! _King_ (_to himself_). But her anger is free from coquetry, because she has lived in the forest. See! Her glance is straight; her eyes are flashing red; Her speech is harsh, not drawlingly well-bred; Her whole lip quivers, seems to shake with cold; Her frown has straightened eyebrows arching bold. No, she saw that I was doubtful, and her anger was feigned. Thus When I refused but now Hard-heartedly, to know Of love or secret vow, Her eyes grew red; and so, Bending her arching brow, She fiercely snapped Love's bow. (_Aloud_.) My good girl, Dushyanta's conduct is known to the whole kingdom, but not this action. _Shakuntala_. Well, well. I had my way. I trusted a king, and put myself in his hands. He had a honey face and a heart of stone. (_She covers her face with her dress and weeps_.) _Sharngarava_. Thus does unbridled levity burn. Be slow to love, but yet more slow With secret mate; With those whose hearts we do not know, Love turns to hate. _King_. Why do you trust this girl, and accuse me of an imaginary crime? _Sharngarava_ (_disdainfully_). You have learned your wisdom upside down. It would be monstrous to believe A girl who never lies; Trust those who study to deceive And think it very wise. _King_. Aha, my candid friend! Suppose I were to admit that I am such a man. What would happen if I deceived the girl? _Sharngarava_. Ruin. _King_. It is unthinkable that ruin should fall on Puru's line. _Sharngarava_. Why bandy words? We have fulfilled our Father's bidding. We are ready to return. Leave her or take her, as you will; She is your wife; Husbands have power for good or ill O'er woman's life. Gautami, lead the way. (_They start to go_.) _Shakuntala_. He has deceived me shamelessly. And will you leave me too? (_She starts to follow_.) _Gautami_ (_turns around and sees her_). Sharngarava, my son, Shakuntala is following us, lamenting piteously. What can the poor child do with a husband base enough to reject her? _Sharngarava_ (_turns angrily_). You self-willed girl! Do you dare show independence? (SHAKUNTALA _shrinks in fear_.) Listen. If you deserve such scorn and blame, What will your father with your shame? But if you know your vows are pure, Obey your husband and endure. Remain. We must go. _King_. Hermit, why deceive this woman? Remember: Night-blossoms open to the moon, Day-blossoms to the sun; A man of honour ever strives Another's wife to shun. _Sharngarava_. O King, suppose you had forgotten your former actions in the midst of distractions. Should you now desert your wife--you who fear to fail in virtue? _King_. I ask _you_ which is the heavier sin: Not knowing whether I be mad Or falsehood be in her, Shall I desert a faithful wife Or turn adulterer? _Chaplain_ (_considering_). Now if this were done---- _King_. Instruct me, my teacher. _Chaplain_. Let the woman remain in my house until her child is born. _King_. Why this? _Chaplain_. The chief astrologers have told you that your first child was destined to be an emperor. If the son of the hermit's daughter is born with the imperial birthmarks, then welcome her and introduce her into the palace. Otherwise, she must return to her father. _King_. It is good advice, my teacher. _Chaplain_ (_rising_). Follow me, my daughter. _Shakuntala_. O mother earth, give me a grave! (_Exit weeping, with the chaplain, the hermits, and_ GAUTAMI. _The king, his memory clouded by the curse, ponders on_ SHAKUNTALA.) _Voices behind the scenes_. A miracle! A miracle! _King_ (_listening_). What does this mean? (_Enter the chaplain_.) _Chaplain_ (_in amazement_). Your Majesty, a wonderful thing has happened. _King_. What? _Chaplain_. When Kanva's pupils had departed, She tossed her arms, bemoaned her plight, Accused her crushing fate---- _King_. What then? _Chaplain_. Before our eyes a heavenly light In woman's form, but shining bright, Seized her and vanished straight. (_All betray astonishment_.) _King_. My teacher, we have already settled the matter. Why speculate in vain? Let us seek repose. _Chaplain_. Victory to your Majesty. (_Exit_.) _King_. Vetravati, I am bewildered. Conduct me to my apartment. _Portress_. Follow me, your Majesty. _King_ (_walks about. To himself_). With a hermit-wife I had no part, All memories evade me; And yet my sad and stricken heart Would more than half persuade me. (_Exeunt omnes_.) ACT VI SEPARATION FROM SHAKUNTALA SCENE I.--_In the street before the Palace_ (_Enter the chief of police, two policemen, and a man with his hands bound behind his back_.) _The two policemen_ (_striking the man_). Now, pickpocket, tell us where you found this ring. It is the king's ring, with letters engraved on it, and it has a magnificent great gem. _Fisherman_ (_showing fright_). Be merciful, kind gentlemen. I am not guilty of such a crime. _First policeman_. No, I suppose the king thought you were a pious Brahman, and made you a present of it. _Fisherman_. Listen, please. I am a fisherman, and I live on the Ganges, at the spot where Indra came down. _Second policeman_. You thief, we didn't ask for your address or your social position. _Chief_. Let him tell a straight story, Suchaka. Don't interrupt. _The two policemen_. Yes, chief. Talk, man, talk. _Fisherman_. I support my family with things you catch fish with--nets, you know, and hooks, and things. _Chief_ (_laughing_). You have a sweet trade. _Fisherman_. Don't say that, master. You can't give up a lowdown trade That your ancestors began; A butcher butchers things, and yet He's the tenderest-hearted man. _Chief_. Go on. Go on. _Fisherman_. Well, one day I was cutting up a carp. In its maw I see this ring with the magnificent great gem. And then I was just trying to sell it here when you kind gentlemen grabbed me. That is the only way I got it. Now kill me, or find fault with me. _Chief_ (_smelling the ring_). There is no doubt about it, Januka. It has been in a fish's maw. It has the real perfume of raw meat. Now we have to find out how he got it. We must go to the palace. _The two policemen_ (_to the fisherman_). Move on, you cutpurse, move on. (_They walk about_.) _Chief_. Suchaka, wait here at the big gate until I come out of the palace. And don't get careless. _The two policemen_. Go in, chief. I hope the king will be nice to you. _Chief_. Good-bye. (_Exit_.) _Suchaka_. Januka, the chief is taking his time. _Januka_. You can't just drop in on a king. _Suchaka_. Januka, my fingers are itching (_indicating the fisherman_) to kill this cutpurse. _Fisherman_. Don't kill a man without any reason, master. _Januka_ (_looking ahead_). There is the chief, with a written order from the king. (_To the fisherman_.) Now you will see your family, or else you will feed the crows and jackals. (_Enter the chief_.) _Chief_. Quick! Quick! (_He breaks off_.) _Fisherman_. Oh, oh! I'm a dead man. (_He shows dejection_.) _Chief_. Release him, you. Release the fishnet fellow. It is all right, his getting the ring. Our king told me so himself. _Suchaka_. All right, chief. He is a dead man come back to life. (_He releases the fisherman_.) _Fisherman_ (_bowing low to the chief_). Master, I owe you my life. (_He falls at his feet_.) _Chief_. Get up, get up! Here is a reward that the king was kind enough to give you. It is worth as much as the ring. Take it. (_He hands the fisherman a bracelet_.) _Fisherman_ (_joyfully taking it_). Much obliged. _Januka_. He _is_ much obliged to the king. Just as if he had been taken from the stake and put on an elephant's back. _Suchaka_. Chief, the reward shows that the king thought a lot of the ring. The gem must be worth something. _Chief_. No, it wasn't the fine gem that pleased the king. It was this way. _The two policemen_. Well? _Chief_. I think, when the king saw it, he remembered somebody he loves. You know how dignified he is usually. But as soon as he saw it, he broke down for a moment. _Suchaka_. You have done the king a good turn, chief. _Januka_. All for the sake of this fish-killer, it seems to me. (_He looks enviously at the fisherman_.) _Fisherman_. Take half of it, masters, to pay for something to drink. _Januka_. Fisherman, you are the biggest and best friend I've got. The first thing we want, is all the brandy we can hold. Let's go where they keep it. (_Exeunt omnes_.) SCENE II.--_In the Palace Gardens_ (_Enter_ MISHRAKESHI, _flying through the air_.) _Mishrakeshi_. I have taken my turn in waiting upon the nymphs. And now I will see what this good king is doing. Shakuntala is like a second self to me, because she is the daughter of Menaka. And it was she who asked me to do this. (_She looks about_.) It is the day of the spring festival. But I see no preparations for a celebration at court. I might learn the reason by my power of divination. But I must do as my friend asked me. Good! I will make myself invisible and stand near these girls who take care of the garden. I shall find out that way. (_She descends to earth. Enter a maid, gazing at a mango branch, and behind her, a second_.) _First maid_. First mango-twig, so pink, so green, First living breath of spring, You are sacrificed as soon as seen, A festival offering. _Second maid_. What are you chirping about to yourself, little cuckoo? _First maid_. Why, little bee, you know that the cuckoo goes crazy with delight when she sees the mango-blossom. _Second maid_ (_joyfully_). Oh, has the spring really come? _First maid_. Yes, little bee. And this is the time when you too buzz about in crazy joy. _Second maid_. Hold me, dear, while I stand on tiptoe and offer this blossom to Love, the divine. _First maid_. If I do, you must give me half the reward of the offering. _Second maid_. That goes without saying, dear. We two are one. (_She leans on her friend and takes the mango-blossom_.) Oh, see! The mango-blossom hasn't opened, but it has broken the sheath, so it is fragrant. (_She brings her hands together_.) I worship mighty Love. O mango-twig I give to Love As arrow for his bow, Most sovereign of his arrows five, Strike maiden-targets low. (_She throws the twig. Enter the chamberlain_.) _Chamberlain_ (_angrily_). Stop, silly girl. The king has strictly forbidden the spring festival. Do you dare pluck the mango-blossoms? _The two maids_ (_frightened_). Forgive us, sir. We did not know. _Chamberlain_. What! You have not heard the king's command, which is obeyed even by the trees of spring and the creatures that dwell in them. See! The mango branches are in bloom, Yet pollen does not form; The cuckoo's song sticks in his throat, Although the days are warm; The amaranth-bud is formed, and yet Its power of growth is gone; The love-god timidly puts by The arrow he has drawn. _Mishrakeshi_. There is no doubt of it. This good king has wonderful power. _First maid_. A few days ago, sir, we were sent to his Majesty by his brother-in-law Mitravasu to decorate the garden. That is why we have heard nothing of this affair. _Chamberlain_. You must not do so again. _The two maids_. But we are curious. If we girls may know about it, pray tell us, sir. Why did his Majesty forbid the spring festival? _Mishrakeshi_. Kings are fond of celebrations. There must be some good reason. _Chamberlain_ (_to himself_). It is in everybody's mouth. Why should I not tell it? (_Aloud_.) Have you heard the gossip concerning Shakuntala's rejection? _The two maids_. Yes, sir. The king's brother-in-law told us, up to the point where the ring was recovered. _Chamberlain_. There is little more to tell. When his Majesty saw the ring, he remembered that he had indeed contracted a secret marriage with Shakuntala, and had rejected her under a delusion. And then he fell a prey to remorse. He hates the things he loved; he intermits The daily audience, nor in judgment sits; Spends sleepless nights in tossing on his bed; At times, when he by courtesy is led To address a lady, speaks another name, Then stands for minutes, sunk in helpless shame. _Mishrakeshi_. I am glad to hear it. _Chamberlain_. His Majesty's sorrow has forbidden the festival. _The two maids_. It is only right. _A voice behind the scenes_. Follow me. _Chamberlain_ (_listening_). Ah, his Majesty approaches. Go, and attend to your duties. (_Exeunt the two maids. Enter the king, wearing a dress indicative of remorse; the clown, and the portress_.) _Chamberlain_ (_observing the king_). A beautiful figure charms in whatever state. Thus, his Majesty is pleasing even in his sorrow. For All ornament is laid aside; he wears One golden bracelet on his wasted arm; His lip is scorched by sighs; and sleepless cares Redden his eyes. Yet all can work no harm On that magnificent beauty, wasting, but Gaining in brilliance, like a diamond cut. _Mishrakeshi_ (_observing the king_). No wonder Shakuntala pines for him, even though he dishonoured her by his rejection of her. _King_ (_walks about slowly, sunk in thought_). Alas! My smitten heart, that once lay sleeping, Heard in its dreams my fawn-eyed love's laments, And wakened now, awakens but to weeping, To bitter grief, and tears of penitence. _Mishrakeshi_. That is the poor girl's fate. _Clown_ (_to himself_). He has got his Shakuntala-sickness again. I wish I knew how to cure him. _Chamberlain (advancing)_. Victory to your Majesty. I have examined the garden. Your Majesty may visit its retreats. _King_. Vetravati, tell the minister Pishuna in my name that a sleepless night prevents me from mounting the throne of judgment. He is to investigate the citizens' business and send me a memorandum. _Portress_. Yes, your Majesty. _(Exit.)_ _King_. And you, Parvatayana, return to your post of duty. _Chamberlain_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.) _Clown_. You have got rid of the vermin. Now amuse yourself in this garden. It is delightful with the passing of the cold weather. _King_ (_sighing_). My friend, the proverb makes no mistake. Misfortune finds the weak spot. See! No sooner did the darkness lift That clouded memory's power, Than the god of love prepared his bow And shot the mango-flower. No sooner did the ring recall My banished maiden dear, No sooner do I vainly weep For her, than spring is here. _Clown_. Wait a minute, man. I will destroy Love's arrow with my stick. (_He raises his stick and strikes at the mango branch_.) _King_ (_smiling_). Enough! I see your pious power. My friend, where shall I sit now to comfort my eyes with the vines? They remind me somehow of her. _Clown_. Well, you told one of the maids, the clever painter, that you would spend this hour in the bower of spring-creepers. And you asked her to bring you there the picture of the lady Shakuntala which you painted on a tablet. _King_. It is my only consolation. Lead the way to the bower of spring-creepers. _Clown_. Follow me. (_They walk about_. MISHRAKESHI _follows_.) Here is the bower of spring-creepers, with its jewelled benches. Its loneliness seems to bid you a silent welcome. Let us go in and sit down. (_They do so_.) _Mishrakeshi_. I will hide among the vines and see the dear girl's picture. Then I shall be able to tell her how deep her husband's love is. (_She hides_.) _King_ (_sighing_). I remember it all now, my friend. I told you how I first met Shakuntala. It is true, you were not with me when I rejected her. But I had told you of her at the first. Had you forgotten, as I did? _Mishrakeshi_. This shows that a king should not be separated a single moment from some intimate friend. _Clown_. No, I didn't forget. But when you had told the whole story, you said it was a joke and there was nothing in it. And I was fool enough to believe you. No, this is the work of fate. _Mishrakeshi_. It must be. _King_ (_after meditating a moment_). Help me, my friend. _Clown_. But, man, this isn't right at all. A good man never lets grief get the upper hand. The mountains are calm even in a tempest. _King_. My friend, I am quite forlorn. I keep thinking of her pitiful state when I rejected her. Thus: When I denied her, then she tried To join her people. "Stay," one cried, Her father's representative. She stopped, she turned, she could but give A tear-dimmed glance to heartless me-- That arrow burns me poisonously. _Mishrakeshi_. How his fault distresses him! _Clown_. Well, I don't doubt it was some heavenly being that carried her away. _King_. Who else would dare to touch a faithful wife? Her friends told me that Menaka was her mother. My heart persuades me that it was she, or companions of hers, who carried Shakuntala away. _Mishrakeshi_. His madness was wonderful, not his awakening reason. _Clown_. But in that case, you ought to take heart. You will meet her again. _King_. How so? _Clown_. Why, a mother or a father cannot long bear to see a daughter separated from her husband. _King_. My friend, And was it phantom, madness, dream, Or fatal retribution stern? My hopes fell down a precipice And never, never will return. _Clown_. Don't talk that way. Why, the ring shows that incredible meetings do happen. _King_ (_looking at the ring_). This ring deserves pity. It has fallen from a heaven hard to earn. Your virtue, ring, like mine, Is proved to be but small; Her pink-nailed finger sweet You clasped. How could you fall? _Mishrakeshi_. If it were worn on any other hand, it would deserve pity. My dear girl, you are far away. I am the only one to hear these delightful words. _Clown_. Tell me how you put the ring on her finger. _Mishrakeshi_. He speaks as if prompted by my curiosity. _King_. Listen, my friend. When I left the pious grove for the city, my darling wept and said: "But how long will you remember us, dear?" _Clown_. And then you said---- _King_. Then I put this engraved ring on her finger, and said to her---- _Clown_. Well, what? _King_. Count every day one letter of my name; Before you reach the end, dear, Will come to lead you to my palace halls A guide whom I shall send, dear. Then, through my madness, it fell out cruelly. _Mishrakeshi_. It was too charming an agreement to be frustrated by fate. _Clown_. But how did it get into a carp's mouth, as if it had been a fish-hook? _King_. While she was worshipping the Ganges at Shachitirtha, it fell. _Clown_. I see. _Mishrakeshi_. That is why the virtuous king doubted his marriage with poor Shakuntala. Yet such love does not ask for a token. How could it have been? _King_. Well, I can only reproach this ring. _Clown_ (_smiling_). And I will reproach this stick of mine. Why are you crooked when I am straight? _King_ (_not hearing him_). How could you fail to linger On her soft, tapering finger, And in the water fall? And yet Things lifeless know not beauty; But I--I scorned my duty, The sweetest task of all. _Mishrakeshi_. He has given the answer which I had ready. _Clown_. But that is no reason why I should starve to death. _King_ (_not heeding_). O my darling, my heart burns with repentance because I abandoned you without reason. Take pity on me. Let me see you again. (_Enter a maid with a tablet_.) _Maid_. Your Majesty, here is the picture of our lady. (_She produces the tablet_.) _King_ (_gazing at it_). It is a beautiful picture. See! A graceful arch of brows above great eyes; Lips bathed in darting, smiling light that flies Reflected from white teeth; a mouth as red As red karkandhu-fruit; love's brightness shed O'er all her face in bursts of liquid charm-- The picture speaks, with living beauty warm. _Clown_ (_looking at it_). The sketch is full of sweet meaning. My eyes seem to stumble over its uneven surface. What more can I say? I expect to see it come to life, and I feel like speaking to it. _Mishrakeshi_. The king is a clever painter. I seem to see the dear girl before me. _King_. My friend, What in the picture is not fair, Is badly done; Yet something of her beauty there, I feel, is won. _Mishrakeshi_. This is natural, when love is increased by remorse. _King_ (_sighing_). I treated her with scorn and loathing ever; Now o'er her pictured charms my heart will burst: A traveller I, who scorned the mighty river. And seeks in the mirage to quench his thirst. _Clown_. There are three figures in the picture, and they are all beautiful. Which one is the lady Shakuntala? _Mishrakeshi_. The poor fellow never saw her beauty. His eyes are useless, for she never came before them. _King_. Which one do you think? _Clown_ (_observing closely_). I think it is this one, leaning against the creeper which she has just sprinkled. Her face is hot and the flowers are dropping from her hair; for the ribbon is loosened. Her arms droop like weary branches; she has loosened her girdle, and she seems a little fatigued. This, I think, is the lady Shakuntala, the others are her friends. _King_. You are good at guessing. Besides, here are proofs of my love. See where discolorations faint Of loving handling tell; And here the swelling of the paint Shows where my sad tears fell. Chaturika, I have not finished the background. Go, get the brushes. _Maid_. Please hold the picture, Madhavya, while I am gone. _King_. I will hold it. (_He does so. Exit maid_.) _Clown_. What are you going to add? _Mishrakeshi_. Surely, every spot that the dear girl loved. _King_. Listen, my friend. The stream of Malini, and on its sands The swan-pairs resting; holy foot-hill lands Of great Himalaya's sacred ranges, where The yaks are seen; and under trees that bear Bark hermit-dresses on their branches high, A doe that on the buck's horn rubs her eye. _Clown_ (_aside_). To hear him talk, I should think he was going to fill up the picture with heavy-bearded hermits. _King_. And another ornament that Shakuntala loved I have forgotten to paint. _Clown_. What? _Mishrakeshi_. Something natural for a girl living in the forest. _King_. The siris-blossom, fastened o'er her ear, Whose stamens brush her cheek; The lotus-chain like autumn moonlight soft Upon her bosom meek. _Clown_. But why does she cover her face with fingers lovely as the pink water-lily? She seems frightened. (_He looks more closely_.) I see. Here is a bold, bad bee. He steals honey, and so he flies to her lotus-face. _King_. Drive him away. _Clown_. It is your affair to punish evil-doers. _King_. True. O welcome guest of the flowering vine, why do you waste your time in buzzing here? Your faithful, loving queen, Perched on a flower, athirst, Is waiting for you still, Nor tastes the honey first. _Mishrakeshi_. A gentlemanly way to drive him off! _Clown_. This kind are obstinate, even when you warn them. _King_ (_angrily_). Will you not obey my command? Then listen: 'Tis sweet as virgin blossoms on a tree, The lip I kissed in love-feasts tenderly; Sting that dear lip, O bee, with cruel power, And you shall be imprisoned in a flower. _Clown_. Well, he doesn't seem afraid of your dreadful punishment. (_Laughing. To himself_.) The man is crazy, and I am just as bad, from associating with him. _King_. Will he not go, though I warn him? _Mishrakeshi_. Love works a curious change even in a brave man. _Clown_ (_aloud_). It is only a picture, man. _King_. A picture? _Mishrakeshi_. I too understand it now. But to him, thoughts are real experiences. _King_. You have done an ill-natured thing. When I was happy in the sight, And when my heart was warm, You brought sad memories back, and made My love a painted form. (_He sheds a tear_.) _Mishrakeshi_. Fate plays strangely with him. _King_. My friend, how can I endure a grief that has no respite? I cannot sleep at night And meet her dreaming; I cannot see the sketch While tears are streaming. _Mishrakeshi_. My friend, you have indeed atoned--and in her friend's presence--for the pain you caused by rejecting dear Shakuntala. (_Enter the maid_ CHATURIKA.) _Maid_. Your Majesty, I was coming back with the box of paint-brushes---- _King_. Well? _Maid_. I met Queen Vasumati with the maid Pingalika. And the queen snatched the box from me, saying: "I will take it to the king myself." _Clown_. How did you escape? _Maid_. The queen's dress caught on a vine. And while her maid was setting her free, I excused myself in a hurry. _A voice behind the scenes_. Follow me, your Majesty. _Clown_ (_listening_). Man, the she-tiger of the palace is making a spring on her prey. She means to make one mouthful of the maid. _King_. My friend, the queen has come because she feels touched in her honour. You had better take care of this picture. _Clown_. "And yourself," you might add. (_He takes the picture and rises_.) If you get out of the trap alive, call for me at the Cloud Balcony. And I will hide the thing there so that nothing but a pigeon could find it. (_Exit on the run_.) _Mishrakeshi_. Though his heart is given to another, he is courteous to his early flame. He is a constant friend. (_Enter the portress with a document_.) _Portress_. Victory to your Majesty. _King_. Vetravati, did you not meet Queen Vasumati? _Portress_. Yes, your Majesty. But she turned back when she saw that I carried a document. _King_. The queen knows times and seasons. She will not interrupt business. _Portress_. Your Majesty, the minister sends word that in the press of various business he has attended to only one citizen's suit. This he has reduced to writing for your Majesty's perusal. _King_. Give me the document. (_The portress does so_.) _King_ (_reads_). "Be it known to his Majesty. A seafaring merchant named Dhanavriddhi has been lost in a shipwreck. He is childless, and his property, amounting to several millions, reverts to the crown. Will his Majesty take action?" (_Sadly_.) It is dreadful to be childless. Vetravati, he had great riches. There must be several wives. Let inquiry be made. There may be a wife who is with child. _Portress_. We have this moment heard that a merchant's daughter of Saketa is his wife. And she is soon to become a mother. _King_. The child shall receive the inheritance. Go, inform the minister. _Portress_. Yes, your Majesty. (_She starts to go_.) _King_. Wait a moment. _Portress_ (_turning back_). Yes, your Majesty. _King_. After all, what does it matter whether he have issue or not? Let King Dushyanta be proclaimed To every sad soul kin That mourns a kinsman loved and lost, Yet did not plunge in sin. _Portress_. The proclamation shall be made. (_She goes out and soon returns_.) Your Majesty, the royal proclamation was welcomed by the populace as is a timely shower. _King_ (_sighing deeply_). Thus, when issue fails, wealth passes, on the death of the head of the family, to a stranger. When I die, it will be so with the glory of Puru's line. _Portress_. Heaven avert the omen! _King_. Alas! I despised the happiness that offered itself to me. _Mishrakeshi_. Without doubt, he has dear Shakuntala in mind when he thus reproaches himself. _King_. Could I forsake the virtuous wife Who held my best, my future life And cherished it for glorious birth, As does the seed-receiving earth? _Mishrakeshi_. She will not long be forsaken. _Maid_ (_to the portress_). Mistress, the minister's report has doubled our lord's remorse. Go to the Cloud Balcony and bring Madhavya to dispel his grief. _Portress_. A good suggestion. (_Exit_.) _King_. Alas! The ancestors of Dushyanta are in a doubtful case. For I am childless, and they do not know, When I am gone, what child of theirs will bring The scriptural oblation; and their tears Already mingle with my offering. _Mishrakeshi_. He is screened from the light, and is in darkness. _Maid_. Do not give way to grief, your Majesty. You are in the prime of your years, and the birth of a son to one of your other wives will make you blameless before your ancestors. (_To herself_.) He does not heed me. The proper medicine is needed for any disease. _King_ (_betraying his sorrow_). Surely, The royal line that flowed A river pure and grand, Dies in the childless king, Like streams in desert sand. (_He swoons_.) _Maid_ (_in distress_). Oh, sir, come to yourself. _Mishrakeski_. Shall I make him happy now? No, I heard the mother of the gods consoling Shakuntala. She said that the gods, impatient for the sacrifice, would soon cause him to welcome his true wife. I must delay no longer. I will comfort dear Shakuntala with my tidings. (_Exit through the air_.) _A voice behind the scenes_. Help, help! _King_ (_comes to himself and listens_). It sounds as if Madhavya were in distress. _Maid_. Your Majesty, I hope that Pingalika and the other maids did not catch poor Madhavya with the picture in his hands. _King_. Go, Chaturika. Reprove the queen in my name for not controlling her servants. _Maid_. Yes, your Majesty. (_Exit_.) _The voice_. Help, help! _King_. The Brahman's voice seems really changed by fear. Who waits without? (_Enter the chamberlain_.) _Chamberlain_. Your Majesty commands? _King_. See why poor Madhavya is screaming so. _Chamberlain_. I will see. (_He goes out, and returns trembling_.) _King_. Parvatayana, I hope it is nothing very dreadful. _Chamberlain_. I hope not. _King_. Then why do you tremble so? For Why should the trembling, born Of age, increasing, seize Your limbs and bid them shake Like fig-leaves in the breeze? _Chamberlain_. Save your friend, O King! _King_. From what? _Chamberlain_. From great danger. _King_. Speak plainly, man. _Chamberlain_. On the Cloud Balcony, open to the four winds of heaven-- _King_. What has happened there? _Chamberlain_. While he was resting on its height, Which palace peacocks in their flight Can hardly reach, he seemed to be Snatched up--by what, we could not see. _King_ (_rising quickly_). My very palace is invaded by evil creatures. To be a king, is to be a disappointed man. The moral stumblings of mine own, The daily slips, are scarcely known; Who then that rules a kingdom, can Guide every deed of every man? _The voice_. Hurry, hurry! _King_ (_hears the voice and quickens his steps_). Have no fear, my friend. _The voice_. Have no fear! When something has got me by the back of the neck, and is trying to break my bones like a piece of sugar-cane! _King_ (_looks about_). A bow! a bow! (_Enter a Greek woman with a bow_.) _Greek woman_. A bow and arrows, your Majesty. And here are the finger-guards. (_The king takes the bow and arrows_.) _Another voice behind the scenes_. Writhe, while I drink the red blood flowing clear And kill you, as a tiger kills a deer; Let King Dushyanta grasp his bow; but how Can all his kingly valour save you now? _King_ (_angrily_). He scorns me, too! In one moment, miserable demon, you shall die. (_Stringing his bow_.) Where is the stairway, Parvatayana? _Chamberlain_. Here, your Majesty. (_All make haste_.) _King_ (_Looking about_). There is no one here. _The Clown's voice_. Save me, save me! I see you, if you can't see me. I am a mouse in the claws of the cat. I am done for. _King_. You are proud of your invisibility. But shall not my arrow see you? Stand still. Do not hope to escape by clinging to my friend. My arrow, flying when the bow is bent, Shall slay the wretch and spare the innocent; When milk is mixed with water in a cup, Swans leave the water, and the milk drink up. (_He takes aim. Enter_ MATALI _and the clown_.) _Matali_. O King, as Indra, king of the gods, commands, Seek foes among the evil powers alone; For them your bow should bend; Not cruel shafts, but glances soft and kind Should fall upon a friend. _King_ (_hastily withdrawing the arrow_). It is Matali. Welcome to the charioteer of heaven's king. _Clown_. Well! He came within an inch of butchering me. And you welcome him. _Matali_ (_smiling_). Hear, O King, for what purpose Indra sends me to you. _King_. I am all attention. _Matali_. There is a host of demons who call themselves Invincible--the brood of Kalanemi. _King_. So Narada has told me. _Matali_. Heaven's king is powerless; you shall smite His foes in battle soon; Darkness that overcomes the day, Is scattered by the moon. Take your bow at once, enter my heavenly chariot, and set forth for victory. _King_. I am grateful for the honour which Indra shows me. But why did you act thus toward Madhavya? _Matali_. I will tell you. I saw that you were overpowered by some inner sorrow, and acted thus to rouse you. For The spurnèd snake will swell his hood; Fire blazes when 'tis stirred; Brave men are roused to fighting mood By some insulting word. _King_. Friend Madhavya, I must obey the bidding of heaven's king. Go, acquaint the minister Pishuna with the matter, and add these words of mine: Your wisdom only shall control The kingdom for a time; My bow is strung; a distant goal Calls me, and tasks sublime. _Clown_. Very well. (_Exit_.) _Matali_. Enter the chariot. (_The king does so. Exeunt omnes_.) ACT VII (_Enter, in a chariot that flies through the air, the king and_ MATALI.) _King_. Matali, though I have done what Indra commanded, I think myself an unprofitable servant, when I remember his most gracious welcome. _Matali_. O King, know that each considers himself the other's debtor. For You count the service given Small by the welcome paid, Which to the king of heaven Seems mean for such brave aid. _King_. Ah, no! For the honour given me at parting went far beyond imagination. Before the gods, he seated me beside him on his throne. And then He smiled, because his son Jayanta's heart Beat quicker, by the self-same wish oppressed, And placed about my neck the heavenly wreath Still fragrant from the sandal on his breast. _Matali_. But what do you not deserve from heaven's king? Remember: Twice, from peace-loving Indra's sway The demon-thorn was plucked away: First, by Man-lion's crooked claws; Again, by your smooth shafts to-day. _King_. This merely proves Indra's majesty. Remember: All servants owe success in enterprise To honour paid before the great deed's done; Could dawn defeat the darkness otherwise Than resting on the chariot of the sun? _Matali_. The feeling becomes you. (_After a little_.) See, O King! Your glory has the happiness of being published abroad in heaven. With colours used by nymphs of heaven To make their beauty shine, Gods write upon the surface given Of many a magic vine, As worth their song, the simple story Of those brave deeds that made your glory. _King_. Matali, when I passed before, I was intent on fighting the demons, and did not observe this region. Tell me. In which path of the winds are we? _Matali_. It is the windpath sanctified By holy Vishnu's second stride; Which, freed from dust of passion, ever Upholds the threefold heavenly river; And, driving them with reins of light, Guides the stars in wheeling flight. _King_. That is why serenity pervades me, body and soul. (_He observes the path taken by the chariot_.) It seems that we have descended into the region of the clouds. _Matali_. How do you perceive it? _King_. Plovers that fly from mountain-caves, Steeds that quick-flashing lightning laves, And chariot-wheels that drip with spray-- A path o'er pregnant clouds betray. _Matali_. You are right. And in a moment you will be in the world over which you bear rule. _King_ (_looking down_). Matali, our quick descent gives the world of men a mysterious look. For The plains appear to melt and fall From mountain peaks that grow more tall; The trunks of trees no longer hide Nor in their leafy nests abide; The river network now is clear, For smaller streams at last appear: It seems as if some being threw The world to me, for clearer view. _Matali_. You are a good observer, O King. (_He looks down, awe-struck_.) There is a noble loveliness in the earth. _King_. Matali, what mountain is this, its flanks sinking into the eastern and into the western sea? It drips liquid gold like a cloud at sunset. _Matali_. O King, this is Gold Peak, the mountain of the fairy centaurs. Here it is that ascetics most fully attain to magic powers. See! The ancient sage, Marichi's son, Child of the Uncreated One, Father of superhuman life, Dwells here austerely with his wife. _King_ (_reverently_). I must not neglect the happy chance. I cannot go farther until I have walked humbly about the holy one. _Matali_. It is a worthy thought, O King. (_The chariot descends_.) We have come down to earth. _King_ (_astonished_). Matali, The wheels are mute on whirling rim; Unstirred, the dust is lying there; We do not bump the earth, but skim: Still, still we seem to fly through air. _Matali_. Such is the glory of the chariot which obeys you and Indra. _King_. In which direction lies the hermitage of Marichi's son? _Matali_ (_pointing_). See! Where stands the hermit, horridly austere, Whom clinging vines are choking, tough and sore; Half-buried in an ant-hill that has grown About him, standing post-like and alone; Sun-staring with dim eyes that know no rest, The dead skin of a serpent on his breast: So long he stood unmoved, insensate there That birds build nests within his mat of hair. _King_ (_gazing_). All honour to one who mortifies the flesh so terribly. _Matali_ (_checking the chariot_). We have entered the hermitage of the ancient sage, whose wife Aditi tends the coral-trees. _King_. Here is deeper contentment than in heaven. I seem plunged in a pool of nectar. _Matali_ (_stopping the chariot_). Descend, O King. _King_ (_descending_). But how will you fare? _Matali_. The chariot obeys the word of command. I too will descend. (_He does so_.) Before you, O King, are the groves where the holiest hermits lead their self-denying life. _King_. I look with amazement both at their simplicity and at what they might enjoy. Their appetites are fed with air Where grows whatever is most fair; They bathe religiously in pools Which golden lily-pollen cools; They pray within a jewelled home, Are chaste where nymphs of heaven roam: They mortify desire and sin With things that others fast to win. _Matali_. The desires of the great aspire high. (_He walks about and speaks to some one not visible_.) Ancient Shakalya, how is Marichi's holy son occupied? (_He listens_.) What do you say? That he is explaining to Aditi, in answer to her question, the duties of a faithful wife? My matter must await a fitter time. (_He turns to the king_.) Wait here, O King, in the shade of the ashoka tree, till I have announced your coming to the sire of Indra. _King_. Very well. (_Exit_ MATALI. _The king's arm throbs, a happy omen_.) I dare not hope for what I pray; Why thrill--in vain? For heavenly bliss once thrown away Turns into pain. _A voice behind the scenes_. Don't! You mustn't be so foolhardy. Oh, you are always the same. _King_ (_listening_). No naughtiness could feel at home in this spot. Who draws such a rebuke upon himself? (_He looks towards the sound. In surprise_.) It is a child, but no child in strength. And two hermit-women are trying to control him. He drags a struggling lion cub, The lioness' milk half-sucked, half-missed, Towzles his mane, and tries to drub Him tame with small, imperious fist. (_Enter a small boy, as described, and two hermit-women_.) _Boy_. Open your mouth, cub. I want to count your teeth. _First woman_. Naughty boy, why do you torment our pets? They are like children to us. Your energy seems to take the form of striking something. No wonder the hermits call you All-tamer. _King_. Why should my heart go out to this boy as if he were my own son? (_He reflects_.) No doubt my childless state makes me sentimental. _Second woman_. The lioness will spring at you if you don't let her baby go. _Boy_ (_smiling_). Oh, I'm dreadfully scared. (_He bites his lip_.) _King_ (_in surprise_). The boy is seed of fire Which, when it grows, will burn; A tiny spark that soon To awful flame may turn. _First woman_. Let the little lion go, dear. I will give you another plaything. _Boy_. Where is it? Give it to me. (_He stretches out his hand_.) _King_ (_looking at the hand_.) He has one of the imperial birthmarks! For Between the eager fingers grow The close-knit webs together drawn, Like some lone lily opening slow To meet the kindling blush of dawn. _Second woman_. Suvrata, we can't make him stop by talking. Go. In my cottage you will find a painted clay peacock that belongs to the hermit-boy Mankanaka. Bring him that. _First woman_. I will. (_Exit_.) _Boy_. Meanwhile I'll play with this one. _Hermit-woman_ (_looks and laughs_). Let him go. _King_. My heart goes out to this wilful child. (_Sighing_.) They show their little buds of teeth In peals of causeless laughter; They hide their trustful heads beneath Your heart. And stumbling after Come sweet, unmeaning sounds that sing To you. The father warms And loves the very dirt they bring Upon their little forms. _Hermit-woman_ (_shaking her finger_). Won't you mind me? (_She looks about_.) Which one of the hermit-boys is here? (_She sees the king_.) Oh, sir, please come here and free this lion cub. The little rascal is tormenting him, and I can't make him let go. _King_. Very well. (_He approaches, smiling_.) O little son of a great sage! Your conduct in this place apart, Is most unfit; 'Twould grieve your father's pious heart And trouble it. To animals he is as good As good can be; You spoil it, like a black snake's brood In sandal tree. _Hermit-woman_. But, sir, he is not the son of a hermit. _King_. So it would seem, both from his looks and his actions. But in this spot, I had no suspicion of anything else. (_He loosens the boy's hold on the cub, and touching him, says to himself_.) It makes me thrill to touch the boy, The stranger's son, to me unknown; What measureless content must fill The man who calls the child his own! _Hermit-woman_ (_looking at the two_). Wonderful! wonderful! _King_. Why do you say that, mother? _Hermit-woman_. I am astonished to see how much the boy looks like you, sir. You are not related. Besides, he is a perverse little creature and he does not know you. Yet he takes no dislike to you. _King_ (_caressing the boy_). Mother, if he is not the son of a hermit, what is his family? _Hermit-woman_. The family of Puru. _King_ (_to himself_). He is of one family with me! Then could my thought be true? (_Aloud_.) But this is the custom of Puru's line: In glittering palaces they dwell While men, and rule the country well; Then make the grove their home in age, And die in austere hermitage. But how could human beings, of their own mere motion, attain this spot? _Hermit-woman_. You are quite right, sir. But the boy's mother was related to a nymph, and she bore her son in the pious grove of the father of the gods. _King_ (_to himself_). Ah, a second ground for hope. (_Aloud_.) What was the name of the good king whose wife she was? _Hermit-woman_. Who would speak his name? He rejected his true wife. _King_ (_to himself_). This story points at me. Suppose I ask the boy for his mother's name. (_He reflects_.) No, it is wrong to concern myself with one who may be another's wife. (_Enter the first woman, with the clay peacock_.) _First woman_. Look, All-tamer. Here is the bird, the _shakunta_. Isn't the _shakunta_ lovely? _Boy_ (_looks about_). Where is my mamma? (_The two women burst out laughing_.) _First woman_. It sounded like her name, and deceived him. He loves his mother. _Second woman_. She said: "See how pretty the peacock is." That is all. _King_ (_to himself_). His mother's name is Shakuntala! But names are alike. I trust this hope may not prove a disappointment in the end, like a mirage. _Boy_. I like this little peacock, sister. Can it fly? (_He seizes the toy_.) _First woman_ (_looks at the boy. Anxiously_), Oh, the amulet is not on his wrist. _King_. Do not be anxious, mother. It fell while he was struggling with the lion cub. (_He starts to pick it up_.) _The two women_. Oh, don't, don't! (_They look at him_.) He has touched it! (_Astonished, they lay their hands on their bosoms, and look at each other_.) _King_. Why did you try to prevent me? _First woman_. Listen, your Majesty. This is a divine and most potent charm, called the Invincible. Marichi's holy son gave it to the baby when the birth-ceremony was performed. If it falls on the ground, no one may touch it except the boy's parents or the boy himself. _King_. And if another touch it? _First woman_. It becomes a serpent and stings him. _King_. Did you ever see this happen to any one else? _Both women_. More than once. _King_ (_joyfully_). Then why may I not welcome my hopes fulfilled at last? (_He embraces the boy_.) _Second woman_. Come, Suvrata. Shakuntala is busy with her religious duties. We must go and tell her what has happened. (_Exeunt ambo_.) _Boy_. Let me go. I want to see my mother. _King_. My son, you shall go with me to greet your mother. _Boy_. Dushyanta is my father, not you. _King_ (_smiling_). You show I am right by contradicting me. (_Enter_ SHAKUNTALA, _wearing her hair in a single braid_.) _Shakuntala_ (_doubtfully_). I have heard that All-tamer's amulet did not change when it should have done so. But I do not trust my own happiness. Yet perhaps it is as Mishrakeshi told me. (_She walks about_.) _King_ (_looking at_ SHAKUNTALA. _With plaintive joy_). It is she. It is Shakuntala. The pale, worn face, the careless dress, The single braid, Show her still true, me pitiless, The long vow paid. _Shakuntala_ (_seeing the king pale with remorse. Doubtfully_). It is not my husband. Who is the man that soils my boy with his caresses? The amulet should protect him. _Boy_ (_running to his mother_). Mother, he is a man that belongs to other people. And he calls me his son. _King_. My darling, the cruelty I showed you has turned to happiness. Will you not recognise me? _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Oh, my heart, believe it. Fate struck hard, but its envy is gone and pity takes its place. It is my husband. _King_. Black madness flies; Comes memory; Before my eyes My love I see. Eclipse flees far; Light follows soon; The loving star Draws to the moon. _Shakuntala_. Victory, victo--(_Tears choke her utterance_.) _King_. The tears would choke you, sweet, in vain; My soul with victory is fed, Because I see your face again-- No jewels, but the lips are red. _Boy_. Who is he, mother? _Shakuntala_. Ask fate, my child. (_She weeps_.) _King_. Dear, graceful wife, forget; Let the sin vanish; Strangely did madness strive Reason to banish. Thus blindness works in men, Love's joy to shake; Spurning a garland, lest It prove a snake. (_He falls at her feet_.) _Shakuntala_. Rise, my dear husband. Surely, it was some old sin of mine that broke my happiness--though it has turned again to happiness. Otherwise, how could you, dear, have acted so? You are so kind. (_The king rises_.) But what brought back the memory of your suffering wife? _King_. I will tell you when I have plucked out the dart of sorrow. 'Twas madness, sweet, that could let slip A tear to burden your dear lip; On graceful lashes seen to-day, I wipe it, and our grief, away. (_He does so_.) _Shakuntala_ (_sees more clearly and discovers the ring_). My husband, it is the ring! _King_. Yes. And when a miracle recovered it, my memory returned. _Shakuntala_. That was why it was so impossible for me to win your confidence. _King_. Then let the vine receive her flower, as earnest of her union with spring. _Shakuntala_. I do not trust it. I would rather you wore it. (_Enter_ MATALI) _Matali_. I congratulate you, O King, on reunion with your wife and on seeing the face of your son. _King_. My desires bear sweeter fruit because fulfilled through a friend. Matali, was not this matter known to Indra? _Matali_ (_smiling_.) What is hidden from the gods? Come. Marichi's holy son, Kashyapa, wishes to see you. _King_. My dear wife, bring our son. I could not appear without you before the holy one. _Shakuntala_. I am ashamed to go before such parents with my husband. _King_. It is the custom in times of festival. Come. (_They walk about_. KASHYAPA _appears seated, with_ ADITI.) _Kashyapa_ (_looking at the king_). Aditi, 'Tis King Dushyanta, he who goes before Your son in battle, and who rules the earth, Whose bow makes Indra's weapon seem no more Than a fine plaything, lacking sterner worth. _Aditi_. His valour might be inferred from his appearance. _Matali_. O King, the parents of the gods look upon you with a glance that betrays parental fondness. Approach them. _King_. Matali, Sprung from the Creator's children, do I see Great Kashyapa and Mother Aditi? The pair that did produce the sun in heaven, To which each year twelve changing forms are given; That brought the king of all the gods to birth, Who rules in heaven, in hell, and on the earth; That Vishnu, than the Uncreated higher, Chose as his parents with a fond desire. _Matali_. It is indeed they. _King_ (_falling before them_). Dushyanta, servant of Indra, does reverence to you both. _Kashyapa_. My son, rule the earth long. _Aditi_. And be invincible. (SHAKUNTALA _and her son fall at their feet_.) _Kashyapa_. My daughter, Your husband equals Indra, king Of gods; your son is like his son; No further blessing need I bring: Win bliss such as his wife has won. _Aditi_. My child, keep the favour of your husband. And may this fine boy be an honour to the families of both parents. Come, let us be seated. (_All seat themselves_.) _Kashyapa_ (_indicating one after the other_). Faithful Shakuntala, the boy, And you, O King, I see A trinity to bless the world-- Faith, Treasure, Piety. _King_. Holy one, your favour shown to us is without parallel. You granted the fulfilment of our wishes before you called us to your presence. For, holy one, The flower comes first, and then the fruit; The clouds appear before the rain; Effect comes after cause; but you First helped, then made your favour plain. _Matali_. O King, such is the favour shown by the parents of the world. _King_. Holy one, I married this your maid-servant by the voluntary ceremony. When after a time her relatives brought her to me, my memory failed and I rejected her. In so doing, I sinned against Kanva, who is kin to you. But afterwards, when I saw the ring, I perceived that I had married her. And this seems very wonderful to me. Like one who doubts an elephant, Though seeing him stride by, And yet believes when he has seen The footprints left; so I. _Kashyapa_. My son, do not accuse yourself of sin. Your infatuation was inevitable. Listen. _King_. I am all attention. _Kashyapa_. When the nymph Menaka descended to earth and received Shakuntala, afflicted at her rejection, she came to Aditi. Then I perceived the matter by my divine insight. I saw that the unfortunate girl had been rejected by her rightful husband because of Durvasas' curse. And that the curse would end when the ring came to light. _King_ (_with a sigh of relief. To himself_). Then I am free from blame. _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). Thank heaven! My husband did not reject me of his own accord. He really did not remember me. I suppose I did not hear the curse in my absent-minded state, for my friends warned me most earnestly to show my husband the ring. _Kashyapa_. My daughter, you know the truth. Do not now give way to anger against your rightful husband. Remember: The curse it was that brought defeat and pain; The darkness flies; you are his queen again. Reflections are not seen in dusty glass, Which, cleaned, will mirror all the things that pass. _King_. It is most true, holy one. _Kashyapa_. My son, I hope you have greeted as he deserves the son whom Shakuntala has borne you, for whom I myself have performed the birth-rite and the other ceremonies. _King_. Holy one, the hope of my race centres in him. _Kashyapa_. Know then that his courage will make him emperor. Journeying over every sea, His car will travel easily; The seven islands of the earth Will bow before his matchless worth; Because wild beasts to him were tame, All-tamer was his common name; As Bharata he shall be known, For he will bear the world alone. _King_. I anticipate everything from him, since you have performed the rites for him. _Aditi_. Kanva also should be informed that his daughter's wishes are fulfilled. But Menaka is waiting upon me here and cannot be spared. _Shakuntala_ (_to herself_). The holy one has expressed my own desire. _Kashyapa_. Kanva knows the whole matter through his divine insight. (_He reflects_.) Yet he should hear from us the pleasant tidings, how his daughter and her son have been received by her husband. Who waits without? (_Enter a pupil_.) _Pupil_. I am here, holy one. _Kashyapa_. Galava, fly through the air at once, carrying pleasant tidings from me to holy Kanva. Tell him how Durvasas' curse has come to an end, how Dushyanta recovered his memory, and has taken Shakuntala with her child to himself. _Pupil_. Yes, holy one. (_Exit_.) _Kashyapa_ (_to the king_). My son, enter with child and wife the chariot of your friend Indra, and set out for your capital. _King_. Yes, holy one. _Kashyapa_. For now May Indra send abundant rain, Repaid by sacrificial gain; With aid long mutually given, Rule you on earth, and he in heaven. _King_. Holy one, I will do my best. _Kashyapa_. What more, my son, shall I do for you? _King_. Can there be more than this? Yet may this prayer be fulfilled. May kingship benefit the land, And wisdom grow in scholars' band; May Shiva see my faith on earth And make me free of all rebirth. (_Exeunt omnes_.) * * * * * THE STORY OF SHAKUNTALA In the first book of the vast epic poem _Mahabharata_, Kalidasa found the story of Shakuntala. The story has a natural place there, for Bharata, Shakuntala's son, is the eponymous ancestor of the princes who play the leading part in the epic. With no little abbreviation of its epic breadth, the story runs as follows:-- THE EPIC TALE Once that strong-armed king, with a mighty host of men and chariots, entered a thick wood. Then when the king had slain thousands of wild creatures, he entered another wood with his troops and his chariots, intent on pursuing a deer. And the king beheld a wonderful, beautiful hermitage on the bank of the sacred river Malini; on its bank was the beautiful hermitage of blessèd, high-souled Kanva, whither the great sages resorted. Then the king determined to enter, that he might see the great sage Kanva, rich in holiness. He laid aside the insignia of royalty and went on alone, but did not see the austere sage in the hermitage. Then, when he did not see the sage, and perceived that the hermitage was deserted, he cried aloud, "Who is here?" until the forest seemed to shriek. Hearing his cry, a maiden, lovely as Shri, came from the hermitage, wearing a hermit garb. "Welcome!" she said at once, greeting him, and smilingly added: "What may be done for you?" Then the king said to the sweet-voiced maid: "I have come to pay reverence to the holy sage Kanva. Where has the blessèd one gone, sweet girl? Tell me this, lovely maid." Shakuntala said: "My blessèd father has gone from the hermitage to gather fruits. Wait a moment. You shall see him when he returns." The king did not see the sage, but when the lovely girl of the fair hips and charming smile spoke to him, he saw that{} she was radiant in her beauty, yes, in her hard vows and self-restraint all youth and beauty, and he said to her: "Who are you? Whose are you, lovely maiden? Why did you come to the forest? Whence are you, sweet girl, so lovely and so good? Your beauty stole my heart at the first glance. I wish to know you better. Answer me, sweet maid." The maiden laughed when thus questioned by the king in the hermitage, and the words she spoke were very sweet: "O Dushyanta, I am known as blessed Kanva's daughter, and he is austere, steadfast, wise, and of a lofty soul." Dushyanta said: "But he is chaste, glorious maid, holy, honoured by the world. Though virtue should swerve from its course, he would not swerve from the hardness of his vow. How were you born his daughter, for you are beautiful? I am in great perplexity about this. Pray remove it." [Shakuntala here explains how she is the child of a sage and a nymph, deserted at birth, cared for by birds (_shakuntas_), found and reared by Kanva, who gave her the name Shakuntala.] Dushyanta said: "You are clearly a king's daughter, sweet maiden, as you say. Become my lovely wife. Tell me, what shall I do for you? Let all my kingdom be yours to-day. Become my wife, sweet maid." Shakuntala said: "Promise me truly what I say to you in secret. The son that is born to me must be your heir. If you promise, Dushyanta, I will marry you." "So be it," said the king without thinking, and added: "I will bring you too to my city, sweet-smiling girl." So the king took the faultlessly graceful maiden by the hand and dwelt with her. And when he had bidden her be of good courage, he went forth, saying again and again: "I will send a complete army for you, and tell them to bring my sweet-smiling bride to my palace." When he had made this promise, the king went thoughtfully to find Kanva. "What will he do when he hears it, this holy, austere man?" he wondered, and still thinking, he went back to his capital. Now the moment he was gone, Kanva came to the hermitage. And Shakuntala was ashamed and did not come to meet her father. But blessed, austere Kanva had divine discernment. He discovered her, and seeing the matter with celestial vision, he was pleased and said: "What you have done, dear, to-day, forgetting me and meeting a man, this does not break the law. A man who loves may marry secretly the woman who loves him without a ceremony; and Dushyanta is virtuous and noble, the best of men. Since you have found a loving husband, Shakuntala, a noble son shall be born to you, mighty in the world." Sweet Shakuntala gave birth to a boy of unmeasured prowess. His hands were marked with the wheel, and he quickly grew to be a glorious boy. As a six years' child in Kanva's hermitage he rode on the backs of lions, tigers, and boars near the hermitage, and tamed them, and ran about playing with them. Then those who lived in Kanva's hermitage gave him a name. "Let him be called All-tamer," they said: "for he tames everything." But when the sage saw the boy and his more than human deeds, he said to Shakuntala: "It is time for him to be anointed crown prince." When he saw how strong the boy was, Kanva said to his pupils: "Quickly bring my Shakuntala and her son from my house to her husband's palace. A long abiding with their relatives is not proper for married women. It destroys their reputation, and their character, and their virtue; so take her without delay." "We will," said all the mighty men, and they set out with Shakuntala and her son for Gajasahvaya. When Shakuntala drew near, she was recognised and invited to enter, and she said to the king: "This is your son, O King. You must anoint him crown prince, just as you promised before, when we met." When the king heard her, although he remembered her, he said: "I do not remember. To whom do you belong, you wicked hermit-woman? I do not remember a union with you for virtue, love, and wealth.[1] Either go or stay, or do whatever you wish." When he said this, the sweet hermit-girl half fainted from shame and grief, and stood stiff as a pillar. Her eyes darkened with passionate indignation; her lips quivered; she seemed to consume the king as she gazed at him with sidelong glances. Concealing her feelings and nerved by anger, she held in check the magic power that her ascetic life had given her. She seemed to meditate a moment, overcome by grief and anger. She gazed at her husband, then spoke passionately: "O shameless king, although you know, why do you say, 'I do not know,' like any other ordinary man?" Dushyanta said: "I do not know the son born of you, Shakuntala. Women are liars. Who will believe what you say? Are you not ashamed to say these incredible things, especially in my presence? You wicked hermit-woman, go!" Shakuntala said: "O King, sacred is holy God, and sacred is a holy promise. Do not break your promise, O King. Let your love be sacred. If you cling to a lie, and will not believe, alas! I must go away; there is no union with a man like you. For even without you, Dushyanta, my son shall rule this foursquare earth adorned with kingly mountains." When she had said so much to the king, Shakuntala started to go. But a bodiless voice from heaven said to Dushyanta: "Care for your son, Dushyanta. Do not despise Shakuntala. You are the boy's father. Shakuntala tells the truth." When he heard the utterance of the gods, the king joyfully said to his chaplain and his ministers: "Hear the words of this heavenly messenger. If I had received my son simply because of her words, he would be suspected by the world, he would not be pure." Then the king received his son gladly and joyfully. He kissed his head and embraced him lovingly. His wife also Dushyanta honoured, as justice required. And the king soothed her, and said: "This union which I had with you was hidden from the world. Therefore I hesitated, O Queen, in order to save your reputation. And as for the cruel words you said to me in an excess of passion, these I pardon you, my beautiful, great-eyed darling, because you love me." Then King Dushyanta gave the name Bharata to Shakuntala's son, and had him anointed crown prince. It is plain that this story contains the material for a good play; the very form of the epic tale is largely dramatic. It is also plain, in a large way, of what nature are the principal changes which a dramatist must introduce in the original. For while Shakuntala is charming in the epic story, the king is decidedly contemptible. Somehow or other, his face must be saved. To effect this, Kalidasa has changed the old story in three important respects. In the first place, he introduces the curse of Durvasas, clouding the king's memory, and saving him from moral responsibility in his rejection of Shakuntala. That there may be an ultimate recovery of memory, the curse is so modified as to last only until the king shall see again the ring which he has given to his bride. To the Hindu, curse and modification are matters of frequent occurrence; and Kalidasa has so delicately managed the matter as not to shock even a modern and Western reader with a feeling of strong improbability. Even to us it seems a natural part of the divine cloud that envelops the drama, in no way obscuring human passion, but rather giving to human passion an unwonted largeness and universality. In the second place, the poet makes Shakuntala undertake her journey to the palace before her son is born. Obviously, the king's character is thus made to appear in a better light, and a greater probability is given to the whole story. The third change is a necessary consequence of the first; for without the curse, there could have been no separation, no ensuing remorse, and no reunion. But these changes do not of themselves make a drama out of the epic tale. Large additions were also necessary, both of scenes and of characters. We find, indeed, that only acts one and five, with a part of act seven, rest upon the ancient text, while acts two, three, four, and six, with most of seven, are a creation of the poet. As might have been anticipated, the acts of the former group are more dramatic, while those of the latter contribute more of poetical charm. It is with these that scissors must be chiefly busy when the play--rather too long for continuous presentation as it stands--is performed on the stage. In the epic there are but three characters--Dushyanta, Shakuntala, Kanva, with the small boy running about in the background. To these Kalidasa has added from the palace, from the hermitage, and from the Elysian region which is represented with vague precision in the last act. The conventional clown plays a much smaller part in this play than in the others which Kalidasa wrote. He has also less humour. The real humorous relief is given by the fisherman and the three policemen in the opening scene of the sixth act. This, it may be remarked, is the only scene of rollicking humour in Kalidasa's writing. The forest scenes are peopled with quiet hermit-folk. Far the most charming of these are Shakuntala's girl friends. The two are beautifully differentiated: Anusuya grave, sober; Priyamvada vivacious, saucy; yet wonderfully united in friendship and in devotion to Shakuntala, whom they feel to possess a deeper nature than theirs. Kanva, the hermit-father, hardly required any change from the epic Kanva. It was a happy thought to place beside him the staid, motherly Gautami. The small boy in the last act has magically become an individual in Kalidasa's hands. In this act too are the creatures of a higher world, their majesty not rendered too precise. Dushyanta has been saved by the poet from his epic shabbiness; it may be doubted whether more has been done. There is in him, as in some other Hindu heroes, a shade too much of the meditative to suit our ideal of more alert and ready manhood. But all the other characters sink into insignificance beside the heroine. Shakuntala dominates the play. She is actually on the stage in five of the acts, and her spirit pervades the other two, the second and the sixth. Shakuntala has held captive the heart of India for fifteen hundred years, and wins the love of increasing thousands in the West; for so noble a union of sweetness with strength is one of the miracles of art. Though lovely women walk the world to-day By tens of thousands, there is none so fair In all that exhibition and display With her most perfect beauty to compare-- because it is a most perfect beauty of soul no less than of outward form. Her character grows under our very eyes. When we first meet her, she is a simple maiden, knowing no greater sorrow than the death of a favourite deer; when we bid her farewell, she has passed through happy love, the mother's joys and pains, most cruel humiliation and suspicion, and the reunion with her husband, proved at last not to have been unworthy. And each of these great experiences has been met with a courage and a sweetness to which no words can render justice. Kalidasa has added much to the epic tale; yet his use of the original is remarkably minute. A list of the epic suggestions incorporated in his play is long. But it is worth making, in order to show how keen is the eye of genius. Thus the king lays aside the insignia of royalty upon entering the grove (Act I). Shakuntala appears in hermit garb, a dress of bark (Act I). The quaint derivation of the heroine's name from _shakunta_--bird--is used with wonderful skill in a passage (Act VII) which defies translation, as it involves a play on words. The king's anxiety to discover whether the maiden's father is of a caste that permits her to marry him is reproduced (Act I). The marriage without a ceremony is retained (Act IV), but robbed of all offence. Kanva's celestial vision, which made it unnecessary for his child to tell him of her union with the king, is introduced with great delicacy (Act IV). The curious formation of the boy's hand which indicated imperial birth adds to the king's suspense (Act VII). The boy's rough play with wild animals is made convincing (Act VII) and his very nickname All-tamer is preserved (Act VII). Kanva's worldly wisdom as to husband and wife dwelling together is reproduced (Act IV). No small part of the give-and-take between the king and Shakuntala is given (Act V), but with a new dignity. Of the construction of the play I speak with diffidence. It seems admirable to me, the apparently undue length of some scenes hardly constituting a blemish, as it was probably intended to give the actors considerable latitude of choice and excision. Several versions of the text have been preserved; it is from the longer of the two more familiar ones that the translation in this volume has been made. In the warm discussion over this matter, certain technical arguments of some weight have been advanced in favour of this choice; there is also a more general consideration which seems to me of importance. I find it hard to believe that any lesser artist could pad such a masterpiece, and pad it all over, without making the fraud apparent on almost every page. The briefer version, on the other hand, might easily grow out of the longer, either as an acting text, or as a school-book. We cannot take leave of Shakuntala in any better way than by quoting the passage[2] in which Lévi's imagination has conjured up "the memorable _première_ when Shakuntala saw the light, in the presence of Vikramaditya and his court." La fête du printemps approche; Ujjayinî, la ville aux riches marchands et la capitale intellectuelle de l'Inde, glorieuse et prospère sous un roi victorieux et sage, se prépare à célébrer la solennité avec une pompe digne de son opulence et de son goût.... L'auteur applaudi de Mâlavikâ ... le poète dont le souple génie s'accommode sans effort au ton de l'épopée ou de l'élégie, Kâlidâsa vient d'achever une comédie héroïque annoncée comme un chef-d'oeuvre par la voix de ses amis.... Le poète a ses comédiens, qu'il a éprouvés et dressés à sa manière avec Mâlavikâ. Les comédiens suivront leur poète familier, devenu leur maître et leur ami.... Leur solide instruction, leur goût épuré reconnaissent les qualités maîtresses de l'oeuvre, l'habileté de l'intrigue, le juste équilibre des sentiments, la fraîcheur de l'imagination ... Vikramâditya entre, suivi des courtisans, et s'asseoit sur son trône; ses femmes restent à sa gauche; à sa droite les rois vassaux accourus pour rendre leurs hommages, les princes, les hauts fonctionnaires, les littérateurs et les savants, groupés autour de Varâha-mihira l'astrologue et d'Amarasimha le lexicographe ... Tout à coup, les deux jolies figurantes placées devant le rideau de la coulisse en écartent les plis, et Duhsanta, l'arc et les flèches à la main, paraît monté sur un char; son cocher tient les rênes; lancés à la poursuite d'une gazelle imaginaire, ils simulent par leurs gestes la rapidité de la course; leurs stances pittoresques et descriptives suggèrent à l'imagination un décor que la peinture serait impuissante à tracer. Ils approchent de l'ermitage; le roi descend à terre, congédie le cocher, les chevaux et le char, entend les voix des jeunes filles et se cache. Un mouvement de curiosité agite les spectateurs; fille d'une Apsaras et création de Kâlidâsa, Çakuntalâ réunit tous les charmes; l'actrice saura-t-elle répondre à l'attente des connaisseurs et réaliser l'idéal? Elle paraît, vêtue d'une simple tunique d'écorce qui semble cacher ses formes et par un contraste habile les embellit encore; la ligne arrondie du visage, les yeux longs, d'un bleu sombre, langoureux, les seins opulents mal emprisonnés, les bras délicats laissent à deviner les beautés que le costume ascétique dérobe. Son attitude, ses gestes ravissent à la fois les regards et les coeurs; elle parle, et sa voix est un chant. La cour de Vikrâmaditya frémit d'une émotion sereine et profonde: un chef-d'oeuvre nouveau vient d'entrer dans l'immortalité. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: The Hindu equivalent of "for better, for worse."] [Footnote 2: _Le Théâtre Indien_, pages 368-371. This is without competition the best work in which any part of the Sanskrit literature has been treated, combining erudition, imagination, and taste. The book is itself literature of a high order. The passage is unfortunately too long to be quoted entire.] * * * * * THE TWO MINOR DRAMAS I.--"MALAVIKA AND AGNIMITRA" _Malavika and Agnimitra_ is the earliest of Kalidasa's three dramas, and probably his earliest work. This conclusion would be almost certain from the character of the play, but is put beyond doubt by the following speeches of the prologue: _Stage-director_. The audience has asked us to present at this spring festival a drama called _Malavika and Agnimitra_, composed by Kalidasa. Let the music begin. _Assistant_. No, no! Shall we neglect the works of such illustrious authors as Bhasa, Saumilla, and Kaviputra? Can the audience feel any respect for the work of a modern poet, a Kalidasa? _Stage-director_. You are quite mistaken. Consider: Not all is good that bears an ancient name, Nor need we every modern poem blame: Wise men approve the good, or new or old; The foolish critic follows where he's told. _Assistant_. The responsibility rests with you, sir. There is irony in the fact that the works of the illustrious authors mentioned have perished, that we should hardly know of their existence were it not for the tribute of their modest, youthful rival. But Kalidasa could not read the future. We can imagine his feelings of mingled pride and fear when his early work was presented at the spring festival before the court of King Vikramaditya, without doubt the most polished and critical audience that could at that hour have been gathered in any city on earth. The play which sought the approbation of this audience shows no originality of plot, no depth of passion. It is a light, graceful drama of court intrigue. The hero, King Agnimitra, is an historical character of the second century before Christ, and Kalidasa's play gives us some information about him that history can seriously consider. The play represents Agnimitra's father, the founder of the Sunga dynasty, as still living. As the seat of empire was in Patna on the Ganges, and as Agnimitra's capital is Vidisha--the modern Bhilsa--it seems that he served as regent of certain provinces during his father's lifetime. The war with the King of Vidarbha seems to be an historical occurrence, and the fight with the Greek cavalry force is an echo of the struggle with Menander, in which the Hindus were ultimately victorious. It was natural for Kalidasa to lay the scene of his play in Bhilsa rather than in the far-distant Patna, for it is probable that many in the audience were acquainted with the former city. It is to Bhilsa that the poet refers again in _The Cloud-Messenger_, where these words are addressed to the cloud: At thine approach, Dasharna land is blest With hedgerows where gay buds are all aglow, With village trees alive with many a nest Abuilding by the old familiar crow, With lingering swans, with ripe rose-apples' darker show. There shalt thou see the royal city, known Afar, and win the lover's fee complete, If thou subdue thy thunders to a tone Of murmurous gentleness, and taste the sweet, Love-rippling features of the river at thy feet. Yet in Kalidasa's day, the glories of the Sunga dynasty were long departed, nor can we see why the poet should have chosen his hero and his era as he did. There follows an analysis of the plot and some slight criticism. In addition to the stage-director and his assistant, who appear in the prologue, the characters of the play are these: AGNIMITRA, _king in Vidisha_. GAUTAMA, _a clown, his friend_. GANADASA } } _dancing-masters_. HARADATTA } DHARINI, _the senior queen_. IRAVATI, _the junior queen_. MALAVIKA, _maid to Queen Dharini, later discovered to be a princess_. KAUSHIKI, _a Buddhist nun_. BAKULAVALIKA, _a maid, friend of Malavika_. NIPUNIKA, _maid to Queen Iravati_. _A counsellor, a chamberlain, a humpback, two court poets, maids, and mute attendants_. The scene is the palace and gardens of King Agnimitra, the time a few days. ACT I.--After the usual prologue, the maid Bakulavalika appears with another maid. From their conversation we learn that King Agnimitra has seen in the palace picture-gallery a new painting of Queen Dharini with her attendants. So beautiful is one of these, Malavika, that the king is smitten with love, but is prevented by the jealous queen from viewing the original. At this point the dancing-master Ganadasa enters. From him Bakulavalika learns that Malavika is a wonderfully proficient pupil, while he learns from her that Malavika had been sent as a present to Queen Dharini by a general commanding a border fortress, the queen's brother. After this introductory scene, the king enters, and listens to a letter sent by the king of Vidarbha. The rival monarch had imprisoned a prince and princess, cousins of Agnimitra, and in response to Agnimitra's demand that they be set free, he declares that the princess has escaped, but that the prince shall not be liberated except on certain conditions. This letter so angers Agnimitra that he despatches an army against the king of Vidarbha. Gautama, the clown, informs Agnimitra that he has devised a plan for bringing Malavika into the king's presence. He has stirred an envious rivalry in the bosoms of the two dancing-masters, who soon appear, each abusing the other vigorously, and claiming for himself the pre-eminence in their art. It is agreed that each shall exhibit his best pupil before the king, Queen Dharini, and the learned Buddhist nun, Kaushiki. The nun, who is in the secret of the king's desire, is made mistress of ceremonies, and the queen's jealous opposition is overborne. ACT II.--The scene is laid in the concert-hall of the palace. The nun determines that Ganadasa shall present his pupil first. Malavika is thereupon introduced, dances, and sings a song which pretty plainly indicates her own love for the king. He is in turn quite ravished, finding her far more beautiful even than the picture. The clown manages to detain her some little time by starting a discussion as to her art, and when she is finally permitted to depart, both she and the king are deeply in love. The court poet announces the noon hour, and the exhibition of the other dancing-master is postponed. ACT III.--The scene is laid in the palace garden. From the conversation of two maids it appears that a favourite ashoka-tree is late in blossoming. This kind of tree, so the belief runs, can be induced to put forth blossoms if touched by the foot of a beautiful woman in splendid garments. When the girls depart, the king enters with the clown, his confidant. The clown, after listening to the king's lovelorn confidences, reminds him that he has agreed to meet his young Queen Iravati in the garden, and swing with her. But before the queen's arrival, Malavika enters, sent thither by Dharini to touch the ashoka-tree with her foot, and thus encourage it to blossom. The king and the clown hide in a thicket, to feast their eyes upon her. Presently the maid Bakulavalika appears, to adorn Malavika for the ceremony, and engages her in conversation about the king. But now a third pair enter, the young Queen Iravati, somewhat flushed with wine, and her maid Nipunika. They also conceal themselves to spy upon the young girls. Thus there are three groups upon the stage: the two girls believe themselves to be alone; the king and the clown are aware of the two girls, as are also the queen and her maid; but neither of these two pairs knows of the presence of the other. This situation gives rise to very entertaining dialogue, which changes its character when the king starts forward to express his love for Malavika. Another sudden change is brought about when Iravati, mad with jealousy, joins the group, sends the two girls away, and berates the king. He excuses himself as earnestly as a man may when caught in such a predicament, but cannot appease the young queen, who leaves him with words of bitter jealousy. ACT IV.--The clown informs the king that Queen Dharini has locked Malavika and her friend in the cellar, and has given orders to the doorkeeper that they are to be released only upon presentation of her own signet-ring, engraved with the figure of a serpent. But he declares that he has devised a plan to set them free. He bids the king wait upon Queen Dharini, and presently rushes into their presence, showing his thumb marked with two scratches, and declaring that he has been bitten by a cobra. Imploring the king to care for his childless mother, he awakens genuine sympathy in the queen, who readily parts with her serpent-ring, supposed to be efficacious in charming away the effects of snake-poison. Needless to say, he uses the ring to procure the freedom of Malavika and her friend, and then brings about a meeting with Agnimitra in the summer-house. The love-scene which follows is again interrupted by Queen Iravati. This time the king is saved by the news that his little daughter has been frightened by a yellow monkey, and will be comforted only by him. The act ends with the announcement that the ashoka-tree has blossomed. ACT V.--It now appears that Queen Dharini has relented and is willing to unite Malavika with the king; for she invites him to meet her under the ashoka-tree, and includes Malavika among her attendants. Word is brought that the army despatched against the king of Vidarbha has been completely successful, and that in the spoil are included two maids with remarkable powers of song. These maids are brought before the company gathered at the tree, where they surprise every one by falling on their faces before Malavika with the exclamation, "Our princess!" Here the Buddhist nun takes up the tale. She tells how her brother, the counsellor of the captive prince, had rescued her and Malavika from the king of Vidarbha, and had started for Agnimitra's court. On the way they had been overpowered by robbers, her brother killed, and she herself separated from Malavika. She had thereupon become a nun and made her way to Agnimitra's court, and had there found Malavika, who had been taken from the robbers by Agnimitra's general and sent as a present to Queen Dharini. She had not divulged the matter sooner, because of a prophecy that Malavika should be a servant for just one year before becoming a king's bride. This recital removes any possible objection to a union of Malavika and Agnimitra. To complete the king's happiness, there comes a letter announcing that his son by Dharini has won a victory over a force of Greek cavalry, and inviting the court to be present at the sacrifice which was to follow the victory. Thus every one is made happy except the jealous young Queen Iravati, now to be supplanted by Malavika; yet even she consents, though somewhat ungraciously, to the arrangements made. Criticism of the large outlines of this plot would be quite unjust, for it is completely conventional. In dozens of plays we have the same story: the king who falls in love with a maid-servant, the jealousy of his harem, the eventual discovery that the maid is of royal birth, and the addition of another wife to a number already sufficiently large. In writing a play of this kind, the poet frankly accepts the conventions; his ingenuity is shown in the minor incidents, in stanzas of poetical description, and in giving abundant opportunity for graceful music and dancing. When the play is approached in this way, it is easy to see the _griffe du lion_ in this, the earliest work of the greatest poet who ever sang repeatedly of love between man and woman, troubled for a time but eventually happy. For though there is in Agnimitra, as in all heroes of his type, something contemptible, there is in Malavika a sweetness, a delicacy, a purity, that make her no unworthy precursor of Sita, of Indumati, of the Yaksha's bride, and of Shakuntala. * * * * * II.--"URVASHI" The second of the two inferior dramas may be conveniently called _Urvashi_, though the full title is _The Tale of Urvashi won by Valour_. When and where the play was first produced we do not know, for the prologue is silent as to these matters. It has been thought that it was the last work of Kalidasa, even that it was never produced in his lifetime. Some support is lent to this theory by the fact that the play is filled with reminiscences of Shakuntala, in small matters as well as in great; as if the poet's imagination had grown weary, and he were willing to repeat himself. Yet _Urvashi_ is a much more ambitious effort than _Malavika_, and invites a fuller criticism, after an outline of the plot has been given. In addition to the stage-director and his assistant, who appear in the prologue, the characters of the play are these: PURURAVAS, _king in Pratishthana on the Ganges_. AYUS, _his son_. MANAVAKA, _a clown, his friend_. URVASHI, _a heavenly nymph_. CHITRALEKHA, _another nymph, her friend_. AUSHINARI, _queen of Pururavas_. NIPUNIKA, _her maid_. _A charioteer, a chamberlain, a hermit-woman, various nymphs and other divine beings, and attendants_. The scene shifts as indicated in the following analysis. The time of the first four acts is a few days. Between acts four and five several years elapse. ACT I.--The prologue only tells us that we may expect a new play of Kalidasa. A company of heavenly nymphs then appear upon Mount Gold-peak wailing and calling for help. Their cries are answered by King Pururavas, who rides in a chariot that flies through the air. In response to his inquiries, the nymphs inform him that two of their number, Urvashi and Chitralekha, have been carried into captivity by a demon. The king darts in pursuit, and presently returns, victorious, with the two nymphs. As soon as Urvashi recovers consciousness, and has rejoined her joyful friends, it is made plain that she and the king have been deeply impressed with each other's attractions. The king is compelled to decline an invitation to visit Paradise, but he and Urvashi exchange loving glances before they part. ACT II.--The act opens with a comic scene in the king's palace. The clown appears, bursting with the secret of the king's love for Urvashi, which has been confided to him. He is joined by the maid Nipunika, commissioned by the queen to discover what it is that occupies the king's mind. She discovers the secret ingeniously, but without much difficulty, and gleefully departs. The king and the clown then appear in the garden, and the king expresses at some length the depth and seeming hopelessness of his passion. The latter part of his lament is overheard by Urvashi herself, who, impelled by love for the king, has come down to earth with her friend Chitralekha, and now stands near, listening but invisible. When she has heard enough to satisfy her of the king's passion, she writes a love-stanza on a birch-leaf, and lets it fall before him. His reception of this token is such that Urvashi throws aside the magic veil that renders her invisible, but as soon as she has greeted the king, she and her friend are called away to take their parts in a play that is being presented in Paradise. The king and the clown hunt for Urvashi's love-letter, which has been neglected during the past few minutes. But the leaf has blown away, only to be picked up and read by Nipunika, who at that moment enters with the queen. The queen can hardly be deceived by the lame excuses which the king makes, and after offering her ironical congratulations, jealously leaves him. ACT III.--The act opens with a conversation between two minor personages in Paradise. It appears that Urvashi had taken the heroine's part in the drama just presented there, and when asked, "On whom is your heart set?" had absentmindedly replied, "On Pururavas." Heaven's stage-director had thereupon cursed her to fall from Paradise, but this curse had been thus modified: that she was to live on earth with Pururavas until he should see a child born of her, and was then to return. The scene shifts to Pururavas' palace. In the early evening, the chamberlain brings the king a message, inviting him to meet the queen on a balcony bathed in the light of the rising moon. The king betakes himself thither with his friend, the clown. In the midst of a dialogue concerning moonlight and love, Urvashi and Chitralekha enter from Paradise, wearing as before veils of invisibility. Presently the queen appears and with humble dignity asks pardon of the king for her rudeness, adding that she will welcome any new queen whom he genuinely loves and who genuinely returns his love. When the queen departs, Urvashi creeps up behind the king and puts her hands over his eyes. Chitralekha departs after begging the king to make her friend forget Paradise. ACT IV.--From a short dialogue in Paradise between Chitralekha and another nymph, we learn that a misfortune has befallen Pururavas and Urvashi. During their honeymoon in a delightful Himalayan forest, Urvashi, in a fit of jealousy, had left her husband, and had inadvertently entered a grove forbidden by an austere god to women. She was straightway transformed into a vine, while Pururavas is wandering through the forest in desolate anguish. The scene of what follows is laid in the Himalayan forest. Pururavas enters, and in a long poetical soliloquy bewails his loss and seeks for traces of Urvashi. He vainly asks help of the creatures whom he meets: a peacock, a cuckoo, a swan, a ruddy goose, a bee, an elephant, a mountain-echo, a river, and an antelope. At last he finds a brilliant ruby in a cleft of the rocks, and when about to throw it away, is told by a hermit to preserve it: for this is the gem of reunion, and one who possesses it will soon be reunited with his love. With the gem in his hand, Pururavas comes to a vine which mysteriously reminds him of Urvashi, and when he embraces it, he finds his beloved in his arms. After she has explained to him the reason of her transformation, they determine to return to the king's capital. ACT V.--The scene of the concluding act is the king's palace. Several years have passed in happy love, and Pururavas has only one sorrow--that he is childless. One day a vulture snatches from a maid's hand the treasured gem of reunion, which he takes to be a bit of bloody meat, and flies off with it, escaping before he can be killed. While the king and his companions lament the gem's loss, the chamberlain enters, bringing the gem and an arrow with which the bird had been shot. On the arrow is written a verse declaring it to be the property of Ayus, son of Pururavas and Urvashi. A hermit-woman is then ushered in, who brings a lad with her. She explains that the lad had been entrusted to her as soon as born by Urvashi, and that it was he who had just shot the bird and recovered the gem. When Urvashi is summoned to explain why she had concealed her child, she reminds the king of heaven's decree that she should return as soon as Pururavas should see the child to be born to them. She had therefore sacrificed maternal love to conjugal affection. Upon this, the king's new-found joy gives way to gloom. He determines to give up his kingdom and spend the remainder of his life as a hermit in the forest. But the situation is saved by a messenger from Paradise, bearing heaven's decree that Urvashi shall live with the king until his death. A troop of nymphs then enter and assist in the solemn consecration of Ayus as crown prince. The tale of Pururavas and Urvashi, which Kalidasa has treated dramatically, is first made known to us in the Rigveda. It is thus one of the few tales that so caught the Hindu imagination as to survive the profound change which came over Indian thinking in the passage from Vedic to classical times. As might be expected from its history, it is told in many widely differing forms, of which the oldest and best may be summarised thus. Pururavas, a mortal, sees and loves the nymph Urvashi. She consents to live with him on earth so long as he shall not break certain trivial conditions. Some time after the birth of a son, these conditions are broken, through no fault of the man, and she leaves him. He wanders disconsolate, finds her, and pleads with her, by her duty as a wife, by her love for her child, even by a threat of suicide. She rejects his entreaties, declaring that there can be no lasting love between mortal and immortal, even adding: "There are no friendships with women. Their hearts are the hearts of hyenas." Though at last she comforts him with vague hopes of a future happiness, the story remains, as indeed it must remain, a tragedy--the tragedy of love between human and divine. This splendid tragic story Kalidasa has ruined. He has made of it an ordinary tale of domestic intrigue, has changed the nymph of heaven into a member of an earthly harem. The more important changes made by Kalidasa in the traditional story, all have the tendency to remove the massive, godlike, austere features of the tale, and to substitute something graceful or even pretty. These principal changes are: the introduction of the queen, the clown, and the whole human paraphernalia of a court; the curse pronounced on Urvashi for her carelessness in the heavenly drama, and its modification; the invention of the gem of reunion; and the final removal of the curse, even as modified. It is true that the Indian theatre permits no tragedy, and we may well believe that no successor of Kalidasa could hope to present a tragedy on the stage. But might not Kalidasa, far overtopping his predecessors, have put on the stage a drama the story of which was already familiar to his audience as a tragic story? Perhaps not. If not, one can but wish that he had chosen another subject. This violent twisting of an essentially tragic story has had a further ill consequence in weakening the individual characters. Pururavas is a mere conventional hero, in no way different from fifty others, in spite of his divine lineage and his successful wooing of a goddess. Urvashi is too much of a nymph to be a woman, and too much of a woman to be a nymph. The other characters are mere types. Yet, in spite of these obvious objections, Hindu critical opinion has always rated the _Urvashi_ very high, and I have long hesitated to make adverse comments upon it, for it is surely true that every nation is the best judge of its own literature. And indeed, if one could but forget plot and characters, he would find in _Urvashi_ much to attract and charm. There is no lack of humour in the clever maid who worms the clown's secret out of him. There is no lack of a certain shrewdness in the clown, as when he observes: "Who wants heaven? It is nothing to eat or drink. It is just a place where they never shut their eyes--like fishes!" Again, the play offers an opportunity for charming scenic display. The terrified nymphs gathered on the mountain, the palace balcony bathed in moonlight, the forest through which the king wanders in search of his lost darling, the concluding solemn consecration of the crown prince by heavenly beings--these scenes show that Kalidasa was no closet dramatist. And finally, there is here and there such poetry as only Kalidasa could write. The fourth act particularly, undramatic as it is, is full of a delicate beauty that defies transcription. It was a new and daring thought--to present on the stage a long lyrical monologue addressed to the creatures of the forest and inspired by despairing passion. Nor must it be forgotten that this play, like all Indian plays, is an opera. The music and the dancing are lost. We judge it perforce unfairly, for we judge it by the text alone. If, in spite of all, the _Urvashi_ is a failure, it is a failure possible only to a serene and mighty poet. * * * * * THE DYNASTY OF RAGHU _The Dynasty of Raghu_ is an epic poem in nineteen cantos. It consists of 1564 stanzas, or something over six thousand lines of verse. The subject is that great line of kings who traced their origin to the sun, the famous "solar line" of Indian story. The bright particular star of the solar line is Rama, the knight without fear and without reproach, the Indian ideal of a gentleman. His story had been told long before Kalidasa's time in the _Ramayana_, an epic which does not need to shun comparison with the foremost epic poems of Europe. In _The Dynasty of Raghu_, too, Rama is the central figure; yet in Kalidasa's poem there is much detail concerning other princes of the line. The poem thus naturally falls into three great parts: first, the four immediate ancestors of Rama (cantos 1-9); second, Rama (cantos 10-15); third, certain descendants of Rama (cantos 16-19). A somewhat detailed account of the matter of the poem may well precede criticism and comment. _First canto. The journey to the hermitage_.--The poem begins with the customary brief prayer for Shiva's favour: God Shiva and his mountain bride, Like word and meaning unified, The world's great parents, I beseech To join fit meaning to my speech. Then follow nine stanzas in which Kalidasa speaks more directly of himself than elsewhere in his works: How great is Raghu's solar line! How feebly small are powers of mine! As if upon the ocean's swell I launched a puny cockle-shell. The fool who seeks a poet's fame Must look for ridicule and blame, Like tiptoe dwarf who fain would try To pluck the fruit for giants high. Yet I may enter through the door That mightier poets pierced of yore; A thread may pierce a jewel, but Must follow where the diamond cut. Of kings who lived as saints from birth, Who ruled to ocean-shore on earth, Who toiled until success was given, Whose chariots stormed the gates of heaven, Whose pious offerings were blest, Who gave his wish to every guest, Whose punishments were as the crimes, Who woke to guard the world betimes, Who sought, that they might lavish, pelf, Whose measured speech was truth itself, Who fought victorious wars for fame, Who loved in wives the mother's name, Who studied all good arts as boys, Who loved, in manhood, manhood's joys, Whose age was free from worldly care, Who breathed their lives away in prayer, Of these I sing, of Raghu's line, Though weak mine art, and wisdom mine. Forgive these idle stammerings And think: For virtue's sake he sings. The good who hear me will be glad To pluck the good from out the bad; When ore is proved by fire, the loss Is not of purest gold, but dross. After the briefest glance at the origin of the solar line, the poet tells of Rama's great-great-grandfather, King Dilipa. The detailed description of Dilipa's virtues has interest as showing Kalidasa's ideal of an aristocrat; a brief sample must suffice here: He practised virtue, though in health; Won riches, with no greed for wealth; Guarded his life, though not from fear; Prized joys of earth, but not too dear. His virtuous foes he could esteem Like bitter drugs that healing seem; The friends who sinned he could forsake Like fingers bitten by a snake. Yet King Dilipa has one deep-seated grief: he has no son. He therefore journeys with his queen to the hermitage of the sage Vasishtha, in order to learn what they must do to propitiate an offended fate. Their chariot rolls over country roads past fragrant lotus-ponds and screaming peacocks and trustful deer, under archways formed without supporting pillars by the cranes, through villages where they receive the blessings of the people. At sunset they reach the peaceful forest hermitage, and are welcomed by the sage. In response to Vasishtha's benevolent inquiries, the king declares that all goes well in the kingdom, and yet: Until from this dear wife there springs A son as great as former kings, The seven islands of the earth And all their gems, are nothing worth. The final debt, most holy one, Which still I owe to life--a son-- Galls me as galls the cutting chain An elephant housed in dirt and pain. Vasishtha tells the king that on a former occasion he had offended the divine cow Fragrant, and had been cursed by the cow to lack children until he had propitiated her own offspring. While the sage is speaking, Fragrant's daughter approaches, and is entrusted to the care of the king and queen. _Second canto. The holy cow's gift_.--During twenty-one days the king accompanies the cow during her wanderings in the forest, and each night the queen welcomes their return to the hermitage. On the twenty-second day the cow is attacked by a lion, and when the king hastens to draw an arrow, his arm is magically numbed, so that he stands helpless. To increase his horror, the lion speaks with a human voice, saying that he is a servant of the god Shiva, set on guard there and eating as his appointed food any animals that may appear. Dilipa perceives that a struggle with earthly weapons is useless, and begs the lion to accept his own body as the price of the cow's release. The lion tries sophistry, using the old, hollow arguments: Great beauty and fresh youth are yours; on earth As sole, unrivalled emperor you rule; Should you redeem a thing of little worth At such a price, you would appear a fool. If pity moves you, think that one mere cow Would be the gainer, should you choose to die; Live rather for the world! Remember how The father-king can bid all dangers fly. And if the fiery sage's wrath, aglow At loss of one sole cow, should make you shudder, Appease his anger; for you can bestow Cows by the million, each with pot-like udder. Save life and youth; for to the dead are given No long, unbroken years of joyous mirth; But riches and imperial power are heaven-- The gods have nothing that you lack on earth. The lion spoke and ceased; but echo rolled Forth from the caves wherein the sound was pent, As if the hills applauded manifold, Repeating once again the argument. Dilipa has no trouble in piercing this sophistical argument, and again offers his own life, begging the lion to spare the body of his fame rather than the body of his flesh. The lion consents, but when the king resolutely presents himself to be eaten, the illusion vanishes, and the holy cow grants the king his desire. The king returns to his capital with the queen, who shortly becomes pregnant. _Third canto. Raghu's consecration_.--The queen gives birth to a glorious boy, whom the joyful father names Raghu. There follows a description of the happy family, of which a few stanzas are given here: The king drank pleasure from him late and soon With eyes that stared like windless lotus-flowers; Unselfish joy expanded all his powers As swells the sea responsive to the moon. The rooted love that filled each parent's soul For the other, deep as bird's love for the mate, Was now divided with the boy; and straight The remaining half proved greater than the whole. He learned the reverence that befits a boy; Following the nurse's words, began to talk; And clinging to her finger, learned to walk: These childish lessons stretched his father's joy, Who clasped the baby to his breast, and thrilled To feel the nectar-touch upon his skin, Half closed his eyes, the father's bliss to win Which, more for long delay, his being filled. The baby hair must needs be clipped; yet he Retained two dangling locks, his cheeks to fret; And down the river of the alphabet He swam, with other boys, to learning's sea. Religion's rites, and what good learning suits A prince, he had from teachers old and wise; Not theirs the pain of barren enterprise, For effort spent on good material, fruits. This happy childhood is followed by a youth equally happy. Raghu is married and made crown prince. He is entrusted with the care of the horse of sacrifice,[1] and when Indra, king of the gods, steals the horse, Raghu fights him. He cannot overcome the king of heaven, yet he acquits himself so creditably that he wins Indra's friendship. In consequence of this proof of his manhood, the empire is bestowed upon Raghu by his father, who retires with his queen to the forest, to spend his last days and prepare for death. _Fourth canto. Raghu conquers the world_.--The canto opens with several stanzas descriptive of the glory of youthful King Raghu. He manifested royal worth By even justice toward the earth, Beloved as is the southern breeze, Too cool to burn, too warm to freeze. The people loved his father, yet For greater virtues could forget; The beauty of the blossoms fair Is lost when mango-fruits are there. But the vassal kings are restless For when they knew the king was gone And power was wielded by his son, The wrath of subject kings awoke, Which had been damped in sullen smoke. Raghu therefore determines to make a warlike progress through all India. He marches eastward with his army from his capital Ayodhya (the name is preserved in the modern Oudh) to the Bay of Bengal, then south along the eastern shore of India to Cape Comorin, then north along the western shore until he comes to the region drained by the Indus, finally east through the tremendous Himalaya range into Assam, and thence home. The various nations whom he encounters, Hindus, Persians, Greeks, and White Huns, all submit either with or without fighting. On his safe return, Raghu offers a great sacrifice and gives away all his wealth.[2] _Fifth canto. Aja goes wooing_.--While King Raghu is penniless, a young sage comes to him, desiring a huge sum of money to give to the teacher with whom he has just finished his education. The king, unwilling that any suppliant should go away unsatisfied, prepares to assail the god of wealth in his Himalayan stronghold, and the god, rather than risk the combat, sends a rain of gold into the king's treasury. This gold King Raghu bestows upon the sage, who gratefully uses his spiritual power to cause a son to be born to his benefactor. In course of time, the son is born and the name Aja is given to him. We are here introduced to Prince Aja, who is a kind of secondary hero in the poem, inferior only to his mighty grandson, Rama. To Aja are devoted the remainder of this fifth canto and the following three cantos; and these Aja-cantos are among the loveliest in the epic. When the prince has grown into young manhood, he journeys to a neighbouring court to participate in the marriage reception of Princess Indumati.[3] One evening he camps by a river, from which a wild elephant issues and attacks his party. When wounded by Aja, the elephant strangely changes his form, becoming a demigod, gives the prince a magic weapon, and departs to heaven. Aja proceeds without further adventure to the country and the palace of Princess Indumati, where he is made welcome and luxuriously lodged for the night. In the morning, he is awakened by the song of the court poets outside his chamber. He rises and betakes himself to the hall where the suitors are gathering. _Sixth canto. The princess chooses_.--The princely suitors assemble in the hall; then, to the sound of music, the princess enters in a litter, robed as a bride, and creates a profound sensation. For when they saw God's masterpiece, the maid Who smote their eyes to other objects blind, Their glances, wishes, hearts, in homage paid, Flew forth to her; mere flesh remained behind. The princes could not but betray their yearning By sending messengers, their love to bring, In many a quick, involuntary turning, As flowering twigs of trees announce the spring. Then a maid-servant conducts the princess from one suitor to another, and explains the claim which each has upon her affection. First is presented the King of Magadha, recommended in four stanzas, one of which runs: Though other kings by thousands numbered be, He seems the one, sole governor of earth; Stars, constellations, planets, fade and flee When to the moon the night has given birth. But the princess is not attracted. The slender maiden glanced at him; she glanced And uttered not a word, nor heeded how The grass-twined blossoms of her garland danced When she dismissed him with a formal bow. They pass to the next candidate, the king of the Anga country, in whose behalf this, and more, is said: Learning and wealth by nature are at strife, Yet dwell at peace in him; and for the two You would be fit companion as his wife, Like wealth enticing, and like learning true. Him too the princess rejects, "not that he was unworthy of love, or she lacking in discernment, but tastes differ." She is then conducted to the King of Avanti: And if this youthful prince your fancy pleases, Bewitching maiden, you and he may play In those unmeasured gardens that the breezes From Sipra's billows ruffle, cool with spray. The inducement is insufficient, and a new candidate is presented, the King of Anupa, A prince whose fathers' glories cannot fade, By whom the love of learned men is wooed, Who proves that Fortune is no fickle jade When he she chooses is not fickly good. But alas! She saw that he was brave to look upon, Yet could not feel his love would make her gay; Full moons of autumn nights, when clouds are gone, Tempt not the lotus-flowers that bloom by day. The King of Shurasena has no better fortune, in spite of his virtues and his wealth. As a river hurrying to the sea passes by a mountain that would detain her, so the princess passes him by. She is next introduced to the king of the Kalinga country; His palace overlooks the ocean dark With windows gazing on the unresting deep, Whose gentle thunders drown the drums that mark The hours of night, and wake him from his sleep. But the maiden can no more feel at home with him than the goddess of fortune can with a good but unlucky man. She therefore turns her attention to the king of the Pandya country in far southern India. But she is unmoved by hearing of the magic charm of the south, and rejects him too. And every prince rejected while she sought A husband, darkly frowned, as turrets, bright One moment with the flame from torches caught, Frown gloomily again and sink in night. The princess then approaches Aja, who trembles lest she pass him by, as she has passed by the other suitors. The maid who accompanies Indumati sees that Aja awakens a deeper feeling, and she therefore gives a longer account of his kingly line, ending with the recommendation: High lineage is his, fresh beauty, youth, And virtue shaped in kingly breeding's mould; Choose him, for he is worth your love; in truth, A gem is ever fitly set in gold. The princess looks lovingly at the handsome youth, but cannot speak for modesty. She is made to understand her own feelings when the maid invites her to pass on to the next candidate. Then the wreath is placed round Aja's neck, the people of the city shout their approval, and the disappointed suitors feel like night-blooming lotuses at daybreak. _Seventh canto. Aja's marriage_.--While the suitors retire to the camps where they have left their retainers, Aja conducts Indumati into the decorated and festive city. The windows are filled with the faces of eager and excited women, who admire the beauty of the young prince and the wisdom of the princess's choice. When the marriage ceremony has been happily celebrated, the disappointed suitors say farewell with pleasant faces and jealous hearts, like peaceful pools concealing crocodiles. They lie in ambush on the road which he must take, and when he passes with his young bride, they fall upon him. Aja provides for the safety of Indumati, marshals his attendants, and greatly distinguishes himself in the battle which follows. Finally he uses the magic weapon, given him by the demigod, to benumb his adversaries, and leaving them in this helpless condition, returns home. He and his young bride are joyfully welcomed by King Raghu, who resigns the kingdom in favour of Aja. _Eighth canto. Aja's lament_.--As soon as King Aja is firmly established on his throne, Raghu retires to a hermitage to prepare for the death of his mortal part. After some years of religious meditation he is released, attaining union with the eternal spirit which is beyond all darkness. His obsequies are performed by his dutiful son. Indumati gives birth to a splendid boy, who is named Dasharatha. One day, as the queen is playing with her husband in the garden, a wreath of magic flowers falls upon her from heaven, and she dies. The stricken king clasps the body of his dead beloved, and laments over her. If flowers that hardly touch the body, slay it, The simplest instruments of fate may bring Destruction, and we have no power to stay it; Then must we live in fear of everything? No! Death was right. He spared the sterner anguish; Through gentle flowers your gentle life was lost As I have seen the lotus fade and languish When smitten by the slow and silent frost. Yet God is hard. With unforgiving rigour He forged a bolt to crush this heart of mine; He left the sturdy tree its living vigour, But stripped away and slew the clinging vine. Through all the years, dear, you would not reprove me, Though I offended. Can you go away Sudden, without a word? I know you love me, And I have not offended you to-day. You surely thought me faithless, to be banished As light-of-love and gambler, from your life, Because without a farewell word, you vanished And never will return, sweet-smiling wife. The warmth and blush that followed after kisses Is still upon her face, to madden me; For life is gone, 'tis only life she misses. A curse upon such life's uncertainty! I never wronged you with a thought unspoken, Still less with actions. Whither are you flown? Though king in name, I am a man heartbroken, For power and love took root in you alone. Your bee-black hair from which the flowers are peeping, Dear, wavy hair that I have loved so well, Stirs in the wind until I think you sleeping, Soon to return and make my glad heart swell. Awake, my love! Let only life be given, And choking griefs that stifle now, will flee As darkness from the mountain-cave is driven By magic herbs that glitter brilliantly. The silent face, round which the curls are keeping Their scattered watch, is sad to look upon As in the night some lonely lily, sleeping When musically humming bees are gone. The girdle that from girlhood has befriended You, in love-secrets wise, discreet, and true, No longer tinkles, now your dance is ended, Faithful in life, in dying faithful too. Your low, sweet voice to nightingales was given; Your idly graceful movement to the swans; Your grace to fluttering vines, dear wife in heaven; Your trustful, wide-eyed glances to the fawns: You left your charms on earth, that I, reminded By them, might be consoled though you depart; But vainly! Far from you, by sorrow blinded, I find no prop of comfort for my heart. Remember how you planned to make a wedding, Giving the vine-bride to her mango-tree; Before that happy day, dear, you are treading The path with no return. It should not be. And this ashoka-tree that you have tended With eager longing for the blossoms red-- How can I twine the flowers that should have blended With living curls, in garlands for the dead? The tree remembers how the anklets, tinkling On graceful feet, delighted other years; Sad now he droops, your form with sorrow sprinkling, And sheds his blossoms in a rain of tears. Joy's sun is down, all love is fallen and perished, The song of life is sung, the spring is dead, Gone is the use of gems that once you cherished, And empty, ever empty, is my bed. You were my comrade gay, my home, my treasure, You were my bosom's friend, in all things true, My best-loved pupil in the arts of pleasure: Stern death took all I had in taking you. Still am I king, and rich in kingly fashion, Yet lacking you, am poor the long years through; I cannot now be won to any passion, For all my passions centred, dear, in you. Aja commits the body of his beloved queen to the flames. A holy hermit comes to tell the king that his wife had been a nymph of heaven in a former existence, and that she has now returned to her home. But Aja cannot be comforted. He lives eight weary years for the sake of his young son, then is reunited with his queen in Paradise. _Ninth canto. The hunt_.--This canto introduces us to King Dasharatha, father of the heroic Rama. It begins with an elaborate description of his glory, justice, prowess, and piety; then tells of the three princesses who became his wives: Kausalya, Kaikeyi, and Sumitra. In the beautiful springtime he takes an extended hunting-trip in the forest, during which an accident happens, big with fate. He left his soldiers far behind one day In the wood, and following where deer-tracks lay, Came with his weary horse adrip with foam To river-banks where hermits made their home. And in the stream he heard the water fill A jar; he heard it ripple clear and shrill, And shot an arrow, thinking he had found A trumpeting elephant, toward the gurgling sound. Such actions are forbidden to a king, Yet Dasharatha sinned and did this thing; For even the wise and learned man is minded To go astray, by selfish passion blinded. He heard the startling cry, "My father!" rise Among the reeds; rode up; before his eyes He saw the jar, the wounded hermit boy: Remorse transfixed his heart and killed his joy. He left his horse, this monarch famous far, Asked him who drooped upon the water-jar His name, and from the stumbling accents knew A hermit youth, of lowly birth but true. The arrow still undrawn, the monarch bore Him to his parents who, afflicted sore With blindness, could not see their only son Dying, and told them what his hand had done. The murderer then obeyed their sad behest And drew the fixèd arrow from his breast; The boy lay dead; the father cursed the king, With tear-stained hands, to equal suffering. "In sorrow for your son you too shall die, An old, old man," he said, "as sad as I." Poor, trodden snake! He used his venomous sting, Then heard the answer of the guilty king: "Your curse is half a blessing if I see The longed-for son who shall be born to me: The scorching fire that sweeps the well-ploughed field, May burn indeed, but stimulates the yield. The deed is done; what kindly act can I Perform who, pitiless, deserve to die?" "Bring wood," he begged, "and build a funeral pyre, That we may seek our son through death by fire." The king fulfilled their wish; and while they burned, In mute, sin-stricken sorrow he returned, Hiding death's seed within him, as the sea Hides magic fire that burns eternally. Thus is foreshadowed in the birth of Rama, his banishment, and the death of his father. Cantos ten to fifteen form the kernel of the epic, for they tell the story of Rama, the mighty hero of Raghu's line. In these cantos Kalidasa attempts to present anew, with all the literary devices of a more sophisticated age, the famous old epic story sung in masterly fashion by the author of the _Ramayana_. As the poet is treading ground familiar to all who hear him, the action of these cantos is very compressed. _Tenth canto. The incarnation of Rama_.--While Dasharatha, desiring a son, is childless, the gods, oppressed by a giant adversary, betake themselves to Vishnu, seeking aid. They sing a hymn of praise, a part of which is given here. O thou who didst create this All, Who dost preserve it, lest it fall, Who wilt destroy it and its ways-- To thee, O triune Lord, be praise. As into heaven's water run The tastes of earth--yet it is one, So thou art all the things that range The universe, yet dost not change. Far, far removed, yet ever near; Untouched by passion, yet austere; Sinless, yet pitiful of heart; Ancient, yet free from age--Thou art. Though uncreate, thou seekest birth; Dreaming, thou watchest heaven and earth; Passionless, smitest low thy foes; Who knows thy nature, Lord? Who knows? Though many different paths, O Lord, May lead us to some great reward, They gather and are merged in thee Like floods of Ganges in the sea. The saints who give thee every thought, Whose every act for thee is wrought, Yearn for thine everlasting peace, For bliss with thee, that cannot cease. Like pearls that grow in ocean's night, Like sunbeams radiantly bright, Thy strange and wonder-working ways Defeat extravagance of praise. If songs that to thy glory tend Should weary grow or take an end, Our impotence must bear the blame, And not thine unexhausted name. Vishnu is gratified by the praise of the gods, and asks their desire. They inform him that they are distressed by Ravana, the giant king of Lanka (Ceylon), whom they cannot conquer. Vishnu promises to aid them by descending to earth in a new avatar, as son of Dasharatha. Shortly afterwards, an angel appears before King Dasharatha, bringing in a golden bowl a substance which contains the essence of Vishnu. The king gives it to his three wives, who thereupon conceive and dream wonderful dreams. Then Queen Kausalya gives birth to Rama; Queen Kaikeyi to Bharata; Queen Sumitra to twins, Lakshmana and Shatrughna. Heaven and earth rejoice. The four princes grow up in mutual friendship, yet Rama and Lakshmana are peculiarly drawn to each other, as are Bharata and Shatrughna. So beautiful and so modest are the four boys that they seem like incarnations of the four things worth living for--virtue, money, love, and salvation. _Eleventh canto. The victory over Rama-with-the-axe_.--At the request of the holy hermit Vishvamitra, the two youths Rama and Lakshmana visit his hermitage, to protect it from evil spirits. The two lads little suspect, on their maiden journey, how much of their lives will be spent in wandering together in the forest. On the way they are attacked by a giantess, whom Rama kills; the first of many giants who are to fall at his hand. He is given magic weapons by the hermit, with which he and his brother kill other giants, freeing the hermitage from all annoyance. The two brothers then travel with the hermit to the city of Mithila, attracted thither by hearing of its king, his wonderful daughter, and his wonderful bow. The bow was given him by the god Shiva; no man has been able to bend it; and the beautiful princess's hand is the prize of any man who can perform the feat. On the way thither, Rama brings to life Ahalya, a woman who in a former age had been changed to stone for unfaithfulness to her austere husband, and had been condemned to remain a stone until trodden by Rama's foot. Without further adventure, they reach Mithila, where the hermit presents Rama as a candidate for the bending of the bow. The king beheld the boy, with beauty blest And famous lineage; he sadly thought How hard it was to bend the bow, distressed Because his child must be so dearly bought. He said: "O holy one, a mighty deed That full-grown elephants with greatest pain Could hardly be successful in, we need Not ask of elephant-cubs. It would be vain. For many splendid kings of valorous name, Bearing the scars of many a hard-fought day, Have tried and failed; then, covered with their shame, Have shrugged their shoulders, cursed, and strode away." Yet when the bow is given to the youthful Rama, he not only bends, but breaks it. He is immediately rewarded with the hand of the Princess Sita, while Lakshmana marries her sister. On their journey home with their young brides, dreadful portents appear, followed by their cause, a strange being called Rama-with-the-axe, who is carefully to be distinguished from Prince Rama. This Rama-with-the-axe is a Brahman who has sworn to exterminate the entire warrior caste, and who naturally attacks the valorous prince. He makes light of Rama's achievement in breaking Shiva's bow, and challenges him to bend the mightier bow which he carries. This the prince succeeds in doing, and Rama-with-the-axe disappears, shamed and defeated. The marriage party then continues its journey to Ayodhya. _Twelfth canto. The killing of Ravana_.--King Dasharatha prepares to anoint Rama crown prince, when Queen Kaikeyi interposes. On an earlier occasion she had rendered the king a service and received his promise that he would grant her two boons, whatever she desired. She now demands her two boons: the banishment of Rama for fourteen years, and the anointing of her own son Bharata as crown prince. Rama thereupon sets out for the Dandaka forest in Southern India, accompanied by his faithful wife Sita and his devoted brother Lakshmana. The stricken father dies of grief, thus fulfilling the hermit's curse. Now Prince Bharata proves himself more generous than his mother; he refuses the kingdom, and is with great difficulty persuaded by Rama himself to act as regent during the fourteen years. Even so, he refuses to enter the capital city, dwelling in a village outside the walls, and preserving Rama's slippers as a symbol of the rightful king. Meanwhile Rama's little party penetrates the wild forests of the south, fighting as need arises with the giants there. Unfortunately, a giantess falls in love with Rama, and In Sita's very presence told Her birth--love made her overbold: For mighty passion, as a rule, Will change a woman to a fool. Scorned by Rama, laughed at by Sita, she becomes furious and threatening. Laugh on! Your laughter's fruit shall be Commended to you. Gaze on me! I am a tigress, you shall know, Insulted by a feeble doe. Lakshmana thereupon cuts off her nose and ears, rendering her redundantly hideous. She departs, to return presently at the head of an army of giants, whom Rama defeats single-handed, while his brother guards Sita. The giantess then betakes herself to her brother, the terrible ten-headed Ravana, king of Ceylon. He succeeds in capturing Sita by a trick, and carries her off to his fortress in Ceylon. It is plainly necessary for Rama to seek allies before attempting to cross the straits and attack the stronghold. He therefore renders an important service to the monkey king Sugriva, who gratefully leads an army of monkeys to his assistance. The most valiant of these, Hanumat, succeeds in entering Ravana's capital, where he finds Sita, gives her a token from Rama, and receives a token for Rama. The army thereupon sets out and comes to the seashore, where it is reinforced by the giant Vibhishana, who has deserted his wicked brother Ravana. The monkeys hurl great boulders into the strait, thus forming a bridge over which they cross into Ceylon and besiege Ravana's capital. There ensue many battles between the giants and the monkeys, culminating in a tremendous duel between the champions, Rama and Ravana. In this duel Ravana is finally slain. Rama recovers his wife, and the principal personages of the army enter the flying chariot which had belonged to Ravana, to return to Ayodhya; for the fourteen years of exile are now over. _Thirteenth canto. The return from the forest_.--This canto describes the long journey through the air from Ceylon over the whole length of India to Ayodhya. As the celestial car makes its journey, Rama points out the objects of interest or of memory to Sita. Thus, as they fly over the sea: The form of ocean, infinitely changing, Clasping the world and all its gorgeous state, Unfathomed by the intellect's wide ranging, Is awful like the form of God, and great. He gives his billowy lips to many a river That into his embrace with passion slips, Lover of many wives, a generous giver Of kisses, yet demanding eager lips. Look back, my darling, with your fawn-like glances Upon the path that from your prison leads; See how the sight of land again entrances, How fair the forest, as the sea recedes. Then, as they pass over the spot where Rama searched for his stolen wife: There is the spot where, sorrowfully searching, I found an anklet on the ground one day; It could not tinkle, for it was not perching On your dear foot, but sad and silent lay. I learned where you were carried by the giant From vines that showed themselves compassionate; They could not utter words, yet with their pliant Branches they pointed where you passed of late. The deer were kind; for while the juicy grasses Fell quite unheeded from each careless mouth, They turned wide eyes that said, "'Tis there she passes The hours as weary captive" toward the south. There is the mountain where the peacocks' screaming, And branches smitten fragrant by the rain, And madder-flowers that woke at last from dreaming, Made unendurable my lonely pain; And mountain-caves where I could scarce dissemble The woe I felt when thunder crashed anew, For I remembered how you used to tremble At thunder, seeking arms that longed for you. Rama then points out the spots in Southern India where he and Sita had dwelt in exile, and the pious hermitages which they had visited; later, the holy spot where the Jumna River joins the Ganges; finally, their distant home, unseen for fourteen years, and the well-known river, from which spray-laden breezes come to them like cool, welcoming hands. When they draw near, Prince Bharata comes forth to welcome them, and the happy procession approaches the capital city. _Fourteenth canto. Sita is put away_.--The exiles are welcomed by Queen Kausalya and Queen Sumitra with a joy tinged with deep melancholy. After the long-deferred anointing of Rama as king, comes the triumphal entry into the ancestral capital, where Rama begins his virtuous reign with his beloved queen most happily; for the very hardships endured in the forest turn into pleasures when remembered in the palace. To crown the king's joy, Sita becomes pregnant, and expresses a wish to visit the forest again. At this point, where an ordinary story would end, comes the great tragedy, the tremendous test of Rama's character. The people begin to murmur about the queen, believing that she could not have preserved her purity in the giant's palace. Rama knows that she is innocent, but he also knows that he cannot be a good king while the people feel as they do; and after a pitiful struggle, he decides to put away his beloved wife. He bids his brother Lakshmana take her to the forest, in accordance with her request, but to leave her there at the hermitage of the sage Valmiki. When this is done, and Sita hears the terrible future from Lakshmana, she cries: Take reverent greeting to the queens, my mothers, And say to each with honour due her worth: "My child is your son's child, and not another's; Oh, pray for him, before he comes to birth." And tell the king from me: "You saw the matter, How I was guiltless proved in fire divine; Will you desert me for mere idle chatter? Are such things done in Raghu's royal line? Ah no! I cannot think you fickle-minded, For you were always very kind to me; Fate's thunderclap by which my eyes are blinded Rewards my old, forgotten sins, I see. Oh, I could curse my life and quickly end it, For it is useless, lived from you apart, But that I bear within, and must defend it, Your life, your child and mine, beneath my heart. When he is born, I'll scorn my queenly station, Gaze on the sun, and live a hell on earth, That I may know no pain of separation From you, my husband, in another birth. My king! Eternal duty bids you never Forget a hermit who for sorrow faints; Though I am exiled from your bed for ever, I claim the care you owe to all the saints." So she accepts her fate with meek courage. But When Rama's brother left her there to languish And bore to them she loved her final word, She loosed her throat in an excess of anguish And screamed as madly as a frightened bird. Trees shed their flowers, the peacock-dances ended, The grasses dropped from mouths of feeding deer, As if the universal forest blended Its tears with hers, and shared her woeful fear. While she laments thus piteously, she is discovered by the poet-sage Valmiki, who consoles her with tender and beautiful words, and conducts her to his hermitage, where she awaits the time of her confinement. Meanwhile Rama leads a dreary life, finding duty but a cold comforter. He makes a golden statue of his wife, and will not look at other women. _Fifteenth canto. Rama goes to heaven_.--The canto opens with a rather long description of a fight between Rama's youngest brother and a giant. On the journey to meet the giant, Shatrughna spends a night in Valmiki's hermitage, and that very night Sita gives birth to twin sons. Valmiki gives them the names Kusha and Lava, and when they grow out of childhood he teaches them his own composition, the _Ramayana_, "the sweet story of Rama," "the first path shown to poets." At this time the young son of a Brahman dies in the capital, and the father laments at the king's gate, for he believes that the king is unworthy, else heaven would not send death prematurely. Rama is roused to stamp out evil-doing in the kingdom, whereupon the dead boy comes to life. The king then feels that his task on earth is nearly done, and prepares to celebrate the great horse-sacrifice.[4] At this sacrifice appear the two youths Kusha and Lava, who sing the epic of Rama's deeds in the presence of Rama himself. The father perceives their likeness to himself, then learns that they are indeed his children, whom he has never seen. Thereupon Sita is brought forward by the poet-sage Valmiki and in the presence of her husband and her detractors establishes her constant purity in a terrible fashion. "If I am faithful to my lord In thought, in action, and in word, I pray that Earth who bears us all May bid me in her bosom fall." The faithful wife no sooner spoke Than earth divided, and there broke From deep within a flashing light That flamed like lightning, blinding-bright. And, seated on a splendid throne Upheld by serpents' hoods alone, The goddess Earth rose visibly, And she was girded with the sea. Sita was clasped in her embrace, While still she gazed on Rama's face: He cried aloud in wild despair; She sank, and left him standing there. Rama then establishes his brothers, sons, and nephews in different cities of the kingdom, buries the three queens of his father, and awaits death. He has not long to wait; Death comes, wearing a hermit's garb, asks for a private interview, and threatens any who shall disturb their conference. Lakshmana disturbs them, and so dies before Rama. Then Rama is translated. Cantos sixteen to nineteen form the third division of the epic, and treat of Rama's descendants. The interest wanes, for the great hero is gone. _Sixteenth canto. Kumudvati's wedding_.--As Kusha lies awake one night, a female figure appears in his chamber; and in answer to his question, declares that she is the presiding goddess of the ancient capital Ayodhya, which has been deserted since Rama's departure to heaven. She pictures the sad state of the city thus: I have no king; my towers and terraces Crumble and fall; my walls are overthrown; As when the ugly winds of evening seize The rack of clouds in helpless darkness blown. In streets where maidens gaily passed at night, Where once was known the tinkle and the shine Of anklets, jackals slink, and by the light Of flashing fangs, seek carrion, snarl, and whine. The water of the pools that used to splash With drumlike music, under maidens' hands, Groans now when bisons from the jungle lash It with their clumsy horns, and roil its sands. The peacock-pets are wild that once were tame; They roost on trees, not perches; lose desire For dancing to the drums; and feel no shame For fans singed close by sparks of forest-fire. On stairways where the women once were glad To leave their pink and graceful footprints, here Unwelcome, blood-stained paws of tigers pad, Fresh-smeared from slaughter of the forest deer. Wall-painted elephants in lotus-brooks, Receiving each a lily from his mate, Are torn and gashed, as if by cruel hooks, By claws of lions, showing furious hate. I see my pillared caryatides Neglected, weathered, stained by passing time, Wearing in place of garments that should please, The skins of sloughing cobras, foul with slime. The balconies grow black with long neglect, And grass-blades sprout through floors no longer tight; They still receive but cannot now reflect The old, familiar moonbeams, pearly white. The vines that blossomed in my garden bowers, That used to show their graceful beauty, when Girls gently bent their twigs and plucked their flowers, Are broken by wild apes and wilder men. The windows are not lit by lamps at night, Nor by fair faces shining in the day, But webs of spiders dim the delicate, light Smoke-tracery with one mere daub of grey. The river is deserted; on the shore No gaily bathing men and maidens leave Food for the swans; its reedy bowers no more Are vocal: seeing this, I can but grieve. The goddess therefore begs Kusha to return with his court to the old capital, and when he assents, she smiles and vanishes. The next morning Kusha announces the vision of the night, and immediately sets out for Ayodhya with his whole army. Arrived there, King Kusha quickly restores the city to its former splendour. Then when the hot summer comes, the king goes down to the river to bathe with the ladies of the court. While in the water he loses a great gem which his father had given him. The divers are unable to find it, and declare their belief that it has been stolen by the serpent Kumuda who lives in the river. The king threatens to shoot an arrow into the river, whereupon the waters divide, and the serpent appears with the gem. He is accompanied by a beautiful maiden, whom he introduces as his sister Kumudvati, and whom he offers in marriage to Kusha. The offer is accepted, and the wedding celebrated with great pomp. _Seventeenth canto. King Atithi_.--To the king and queen is born a son, who is named Atithi. When he has grown into manhood, his father Kusha engages in a struggle with a demon, in which the king is killed in the act of killing his adversary. He goes to heaven, followed by his faithful queen, and Atithi is anointed king. The remainder of the canto describes King Atithi's glorious reign. _Eighteenth canto. The later princes_.--This canto gives a brief, impressionistic sketch of the twenty-one kings who in their order succeeded Atithi. _Nineteenth canto. The loves of Agnivarna_.--After the twenty-one kings just mentioned, there succeeds a king named Agnivarna, who gives himself to dissipation. He shuts himself up in the palace; even when duty requires him to appear before his subjects, he does so merely by hanging one foot out of a window. He trains dancing-girls himself, and has so many mistresses that he cannot always call them by their right names. It is not wonderful that this kind of life leads before long to a consuming disease; and as Agnivarna is even then unable to resist the pleasures of the senses, he dies. His queen is pregnant, and she mounts the throne as regent in behalf of her unborn son. With this strange scene, half tragic, half vulgar, the epic, in the form in which it has come down to us, abruptly ends. If we now endeavour to form some critical estimate of the poem, we are met at the outset by this strangely unnatural termination. We cannot avoid wondering whether the poem as we have it is complete. And we shall find that there are good reasons for believing that Kalidasa did not let the glorious solar line end in the person of the voluptuous Agnivarna and his unborn child. In the first place, there is a constant tradition which affirms that _The Dynasty of Raghu_ originally consisted of twenty-five cantos. A similar tradition concerning Kalidasa's second epic has justified itself; for some time only seven cantos were known; then more were discovered, and we now have seventeen. Again, there is a rhetorical rule, almost never disregarded, which requires a literary work to end with an epilogue in the form of a little prayer for the welfare of readers or auditors. Kalidasa himself complies with this rule, certainly in five of his other six books. Once again, Kalidasa has nothing of the tragedian in his soul; his works, without exception, end happily. In the drama _Urvashi_ he seriously injures a splendid old tragic story for the sake of a happy ending. These facts all point to the probability that the conclusion of the epic has been lost. We may even assign a natural, though conjectural, reason for this. _The Dynasty of Raghu_ has been used for centuries as a text-book in India, so that manuscripts abound, and commentaries are very numerous. Now if the concluding cantos were unfitted for use as a text-book, they might very easily be lost during the centuries before the introduction of printing-presses into India. Indeed, this very unfitness for use as a school text seems to be the explanation of the temporary loss of several cantos of Kalidasa's second epic. On the other hand, we are met by the fact that numerous commentators, living in different parts of India, know the text of only nineteen cantos. Furthermore, it is unlikely that Kalidasa left the poem incomplete at his death; for it was, without serious question, one of his earlier works. Apart from evidences of style, there is the subject-matter of the introductory stanzas, in which the poet presents himself as an aspirant for literary fame. No writer of established reputation would be likely to say: The fool who seeks a poet's fame, Must look for ridicule and blame, Like tiptoe dwarf who fain would try To pluck the fruit for giants high. In only one other of his writings, in the drama which was undoubtedly written earlier than the other two dramas, does the poet thus present his feeling of diffidence to his auditors. It is of course possible that Kalidasa wrote the first nineteen cantos when a young man, intending to add more, then turned to other matters, and never afterwards cared to take up the rather thankless task of ending a youthful work. The question does not admit of final solution. Yet whoever reads and re-reads _The Dynasty of Raghu_, and the other works of its author, finds the conviction growing ever stronger that our poem in nineteen cantos is mutilated. We are thus enabled to clear the author of the charge of a lame and impotent conclusion. Another adverse criticism cannot so readily be disposed of; that of a lack of unity in the plot. As the poem treats of a kingly dynasty, we frequently meet the cry: The king is dead. Long live the king! The story of Rama himself occupies only six cantos; he is not born until the tenth canto, he is in heaven after the fifteenth. There are in truth six heroes, each of whom has to die to make room for his successor. One may go farther and say that it is not possible to give a brief and accurate title to the poem. It is not a _Ramayana_, or epic of Rama's deeds, for Rama is on the stage during only a third of the poem. It is not properly an epic of Raghu's line, for many kings of this line are unmentioned. Not merely kings who escape notice by their obscurity, but also several who fill a large place in Indian story, whose deeds and adventures are splendidly worthy of epic treatment. _The Dynasty of Raghu_ is rather an epic poem in which Rama is the central figure, giving it such unity as it possesses, but which provides Rama with a most generous background in the shape of selected episodes concerning his ancestors and his descendants. Rama is the central figure. Take him away and the poem falls to pieces like a pearl necklace with a broken string. Yet it may well be doubted whether the cantos dealing with Rama are the most successful. They are too compressed, too briefly allusive. Kalidasa attempts to tell the story in about one-thirtieth of the space given to it by his great predecessor Valmiki. The result is much loss by omission and much loss by compression. Many of the best episodes of the _Ramayana_ are quite omitted by Kalidasa: for example, the story of the jealous humpback who eggs on Queen Kaikeyi to demand her two boons; the beautiful scene in which Sita insists on following Rama into the forest; the account of the somnolent giant Pot-ear, a character quite as good as Polyphemus. Other fine episodes are so briefly alluded to as to lose all their charm: for example, the story of the golden deer that attracts the attention of Rama while Ravana is stealing his wife; the journey of the monkey Hanumat to Ravana's fortress and his interview with Sita. The Rama-story, as told by Valmiki, is one of the great epic stories of the world. It has been for two thousand years and more the story _par excellence_ of the Hindus; and the Hindus may fairly claim to be the best story-tellers of the world. There is therefore real matter for regret in the fact that so great a poet as Kalidasa should have treated it in a way not quite worthy of it and of himself. The reason is not far to seek, nor can there be any reasonable doubt as to its truth. Kalidasa did not care to put himself into direct competition with Valmiki. The younger poet's admiration of his mighty predecessor is clearly expressed. It is with especial reference to Valmiki that he says in his introduction: Yet I may enter through the door That mightier poets pierced of yore; A thread may pierce a jewel, but Must follow where the diamond cut. He introduces Valmiki into his own epic, making him compose the _Ramayana_ in Rama's lifetime. Kalidasa speaks of Valmiki as "the poet," and the great epic he calls "the sweet story of Rama," "the first path shown to poets," which, when sung by the two boys, was heard with motionless delight by the deer, and, when sung before a gathering of learned men, made them heedless of the tears that rolled down their cheeks. Bearing these matters in mind, we can see the course of Kalidasa's thoughts almost as clearly as if he had expressed them directly. He was irresistibly driven to write the wonderful story of Rama, as any poet would be who became familiar with it. At the same time, his modesty prevented him from challenging the old epic directly. He therefore writes a poem which shall appeal to the hallowed association that cluster round the great name of Rama, but devotes two-thirds of it to themes that permit him greater freedom. The result is a formless plot. This is a real weakness, yet not a fatal weakness. In general, literary critics lay far too much emphasis on plot. Of the elements that make a great book, two, style and presentation of character, hardly permit critical analysis. The third, plot, does permit such analysis. Therefore the analyst overrates its importance. It is fatal to all claim of greatness in a narrative if it is shown to have a bad style or to be without interesting characters. It is not fatal if it is shown that the plot is rambling. In recent literature it is easy to find truly great narratives in which the plot leaves much to be desired. We may cite the _Pickwick Papers, Les Misérables, War and Peace_. We must then regard _The Dynasty of Raghu_ as a poem in which single episodes take a stronger hold upon the reader than does the unfolding of an ingenious plot. In some degree, this is true of all long poems. The _Æneid_ itself, the most perfect long poem ever written, has dull passages. And when this allowance is made, what wonderful passages we have in Kalidasa's poem! One hardly knows which of them makes the strongest appeal, so many are they and so varied. There is the description of the small boy Raghu in the third canto, the choice of the princess in the sixth, the lament of King Aja in the eighth, the story of Dasharatha and the hermit youth in the ninth, the account of the ruined city in the sixteenth. Besides these, the Rama cantos, ten to fifteen, make an epic within an epic. And if Kalidasa is not seen at his very best here, yet his second best is of a higher quality than the best of others. Also, the Rama story is so moving that a mere allusion to it stirs like a sentimental memory of childhood. It has the usual qualities of a good epic story: abundance of travel and fighting and adventure and magic interweaving of human with superhuman, but it has more than this. In both hero and heroine there is real development of character. Odysseus and Æneas do not grow; they go through adventures. But King Rama, torn between love for his wife and duty to his subjects, is almost a different person from the handsome, light-hearted prince who won his bride by breaking Shiva's bow. Sita, faithful to the husband who rejects her, has made a long, character-forming journey since the day when she left her father's palace, a youthful bride. Herein lies the unique beauty of the tale of Rama, that it unites romantic love and moral conflict with a splendid story of wild adventure. No wonder that the Hindus, connoisseurs of story-telling, have loved the tale of Rama's deeds better than any other story. If we compare _The Dynasty of Raghu_ with Kalidasa's other books, we find it inferior to _The Birth of the War-god_ in unity of plot, inferior to _Shakuntala_ in sustained interest, inferior to _The Cloud-Messenger_ in perfection of every detail. Yet passages in it are as high and sweet as anything in these works. And over it is shed the magic charm of Kalidasa's style. Of that it is vain to speak. It can be had only at first hand. The final proof that _The Dynasty of Raghu_ is a very great poem, is this: no one who once reads it can leave it alone thereafter.{} FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: If a king aspired to the title of emperor, or king of kings, he was at liberty to celebrate the horse-sacrifice. A horse was set free to wander at will for a year, and was escorted by a band of noble youths who were not permitted to interfere with his movements. If the horse wandered into the territory of another king, such king must either submit to be the vassal of the horse's owner, or must fight him. If the owner of the horse received the submission, with or without fighting, of all the kings into whose territories the horse wandered during the year of freedom, he offered the horse in sacrifice and assumed the imperial title.] [Footnote 2: This is not the place to discuss the many interesting questions of geography and ethnology suggested by the fourth canto. But it is important to notice that Kalidasa had at least superficial knowledge of the entire Indian peninsula and of certain outlying regions.] [Footnote 3: A girl of the warrior caste had the privilege of choosing her husband. The procedure was this. All the eligible youths of the neighbourhood were invited to her house, and were lavishly entertained. On the appointed day, they assembled in a hall of the palace, and the maiden entered with a garland in her hand. The suitors were presented to her with some account of their claims upon her attention, after which she threw the garland around the neck of him whom she preferred.] [Footnote 4: See footnote, p. 128.] * * * * * THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD _The Birth of the War-god_ is an epic poem in seventeen cantos. It consists of 1096 stanzas, or about 4400 lines of verse. The subject is the marriage of the god Shiva, the birth of his son, and the victory of this son over a powerful demon. The story was not invented by Kalidasa, but taken from old mythology. Yet it had never been told in so masterly a fashion as had been the story of Rama's deeds by Valmiki. Kalidasa is therefore under less constraint in writing this epic than in writing _The Dynasty of Raghu_. I give first a somewhat detailed analysis of the matter of the poem. _First canto. The birth of Parvati_.--The poem begins with a description of the great Himalaya mountain-range. God of the distant north, the Snowy Range O'er other mountains towers imperially; Earth's measuring-rod, being great and free from change, Sinks to the eastern and the western sea. Whose countless wealth of natural gems is not Too deeply blemished by the cruel snow; One fault for many virtues is forgot, The moon's one stain for beams that endless flow. Where demigods enjoy the shade of clouds Girding his lower crests, but often seek, When startled by the sudden rain that shrouds His waist, some loftier, ever sunlit peak. Where bark of birch-trees makes, when torn in strips And streaked with mountain minerals that blend To written words 'neath dainty finger-tips, Such dear love-letters as the fairies send. Whose organ-pipes are stems of bamboo, which Are filled from cavern-winds that know no rest, As if the mountain strove to set the pitch For songs that angels sing upon his crest. Where magic herbs that glitter in the night Are lamps that need no oil within them, when They fill cave-dwellings with their shimmering light And shine upon the loves of mountain men. Who offers roof and refuge in his caves To timid darkness shrinking from the day; A lofty soul is generous; he saves Such honest cowards as for protection pray, Who brings to birth the plants of sacrifice; Who steadies earth, so strong is he and broad. The great Creator, for this service' price, Made him the king of mountains, and a god. Himalaya marries a wife, to whom in course of time a daughter is born, as wealth is born when ambition pairs with character. The child is named Parvati, that is, daughter of the mountain. Her father takes infinite delight in her, as well he may; for She brought him purity and beauty too, As white flames to the lamp that burns at night; Or Ganges to the path whereby the true Reach heaven; or judgment to the erudite. She passes through a happy childhood of sand-piles, balls, dolls, and little girl friends, when all at once young womanhood comes upon her. As pictures waken to the painter's brush, Or lilies open to the morning sun, Her perfect beauty answered to the flush Of womanhood when childish days were done. Suppose a blossom on a leafy spray; Suppose a pearl on spotless coral laid: Such was the smile, pure, radiantly gay, That round her red, red lips for ever played. And when she spoke, the music of her tale Was sweet, the music of her voice to suit, Till listeners felt as if the nightingale Had grown discordant like a jangled lute. It is predicted by a heavenly being that she will one day become the wife of the god Shiva. This prediction awakens her father's pride, and also his impatience, since Shiva makes no advances. For the destined bridegroom is at this time leading a life of stern austerity and self-denial upon a mountain peak. Himalaya therefore bids his daughter wait upon Shiva. She does so, but without being able to divert him from his austerities. _Second canto. Brahma's self-revelation_.--At this time, the gods betake themselves to Brahma, the Creator, and sing a hymn of praise, a part of which is given here. Before creation, thou art one; Three, when creation's work is done: All praise and honour unto thee In this thy mystic trinity. Three various forms and functions three Proclaim thy living majesty; Thou dost create, and then maintain, And last, destroyest all again. Thy slow recurrent day and night Bring death to all, or living light. We live beneath thy waking eye; Thou sleepest, and thy creatures die. Solid and fluid, great and small, And light and heavy--Thou art all; Matter and form are both in thee: Thy powers are past discovery.[] Thou art the objects that unroll Their drama for the passive soul; Thou art the soul that views the play Indifferently, day by day. Thou art the knower and the known; Eater and food art thou alone; The priest and his oblation fair; The prayerful suppliant and the prayer. Brahma receives their worship graciously, and asks the reason of their coming. The spokesman of the gods explains to Brahma how a great demon named Taraka is troubling the world, and how helpless they are in opposing him. They have tried the most extravagant propitiation, and found it useless. The sun in heaven dare not glow With undiminished heat, but so As that the lilies may awake Which blossom in his pleasure-lake. The wind blows gently as it can To serve him as a soothing fan, And dare not manifest its power, Lest it should steal a garden flower. The seasons have forgotten how To follow one another now; They simultaneously bring Him flowers of autumn, summer, spring. Such adoration makes him worse; He troubles all the universe: Kindness inflames a rascal's mind; He should be recompensed in kind. And all the means that we have tried Against the rogue, are brushed aside, As potent herbs have no avail When bodily powers begin to fail. We seek a leader, O our Lord, To bring him to his just reward-- As saints seek evermore to win Virtue, to end life's woe and sin-- That he may guide the heavenly host, And guard us to the uttermost, And from our foe lead captive back The victory which still we lack. Brahma answers that the demon's power comes from him, and he does not feel at liberty to proceed against it; "for it is not fitting to cut down even a poison-tree that one's own hand has planted." But he promises that a son shall be born to Shiva and Parvati, who shall lead the gods to victory. With this answer the gods are perforce content, and their king, Indra, waits upon the god of love, to secure his necessary co-operation. _Third canto. The burning of Love_.--Indra waits upon Love, who asks for his commands. Indra explains the matter, and asks Love to inflame Shiva with passion for Parvati. Love thereupon sets out, accompanied by his wife Charm and his friend Spring. When they reach the mountain where Shiva dwells, Spring shows his power. The snow disappears; the trees put forth blossoms; bees, deer, and birds waken to new life. The only living being that is not influenced by the sudden change of season is Shiva, who continues his meditation, unmoved. Love himself is discouraged, until he sees the beauty of Parvati, when he takes heart again. At this moment, Shiva chances to relax his meditation, and Parvati approaches to do him homage. Love seizes the lucky moment, and prepares to shoot his bewildering arrow at Shiva. But the great god sees him, and before the arrow is discharged, darts fire from his eye, whereby Love is consumed. Charm falls in a swoon, Shiva vanishes, and the wretched Parvati is carried away by her father. _Fourth canto. The lament of Charm_.--This canto is given entire. The wife of Love lay helpless in a swoon, Till wakened by a fate whose deadliest sting Was preparation of herself full soon To taste the youthful widow's sorrowing. Her opening eyes were fixed with anxious thought On every spot where he might be, in vain, Were gladdened nowhere by the sight she sought, The lover she should never see again. She rose and cried aloud: "Dost thou yet live, Lord of my life?" And at the last she found Him whom the wrathful god could not forgive, Her Love, a trace of ashes on the ground. With breaking heart, with lovely bosom stained By cold embrace of earth, with flying hair, She wept and to the forest world complained, As if the forest in her grief might share. "Thy beauty slew the pride that maidens cherish; Perfect its loveliness in every part; I saw that beauty fade away and perish, Yet did not die. How hard is woman's heart! Where art thou gone? Thy love a moment only Endured, and I for ever need its power; Gone like the stream that leaves the lily lonely, When the dam breaks, to mourn her dying flower. Thou never didst a thing to cause me anguish; I never did a thing to work thee harm; Why should I thus in vain affliction languish? Why not return to bless thy grieving Charm? Of playful chastisements art thou reminded, Thy flirtings punished by my girdle-strands, Thine eyes by flying dust of blossoms blinded, Held for thy meet correction in these hands? I loved to hear the name thou gav'st me often 'Heart of my heart,' Alas! It was not true, But lulling phrase, my coming grief to soften: Else in thy death, my life had ended, too. Think not that on the journey thou hast taken So newly, I should fail to find thy track; Ah, but the world! The world is quite forsaken, For life is love; no life, when thee they lack. Thou gone, my love, what power can guide the maiden Through veils of midnight darkness in the town To the eager heart with loving fancies laden, And fortify against the storm-cloud's frown? The wine that teaches eyes their gladdest dances, That bids the love-word trippingly to glide, Is now deception; for if flashing glances Lead not to love, they lead to naught beside. And when he knows thy life is a remembrance, Thy friend the moon will feel his shining vain, Will cease to show the world a circle's semblance, And even in his waxing time, will wane. Slowly the mango-blossoms are unfolding On twigs where pink is struggling with the green, Greeted by koïl-birds sweet concert holding-- Thou dead, who makes of flowers an arrow keen? Or weaves a string of bees with deft invention, To speed the missile when the bow is bent? They buzz about me now with kind intention, And mortify the grief which they lament. Arise! Assume again thy radiant beauty! Rebuke the koïl-bird, whom nature taught Such sweet persuasion; she forgets her duty As messenger to bosoms passion-fraught. Well I remember, Love, thy suppliant motion, Thy trembling, quick embrace, the moments blest By fervent, self-surrendering devotion-- And memories like these deny me rest. Well didst thou know thy wife; the springtime garland, Wrought by thy hands, O charmer of thy Charm! Remains to bid me grieve, while in a far land Thy body seeks repose from earthly harm. Thy service by the cruel gods demanded, Meant service to thy wife left incomplete, My bare feet with coquettish streakings banded-- Return to end the adorning of my feet. No, straight to thee I fly, my body given, A headlong moth, to quick-consuming fire, Or e'er my cunning rivals, nymphs in heaven, Awake in thee an answering desire. Yet, dearest, even this short delay is fated For evermore a deep reproach to prove, A stain that may not be obliterated, If Charm has lived one moment far from Love. And how can I perform the last adorning Of thy poor body, as befits a wife? So strangely on the path that leaves me mourning Thy body followed still the spirit's life. I see thee straighten out thy blossom-arrow, The bow slung careless on thy breast the while, Thine eyes in mirthful, sidelong glance grow narrow, Thy conference with friendly Spring, thy smile. But where is Spring? Dear friend, whose art could fashion The flowery arrow for thee? Has the wrath Of dreadful Shiva, in excess of passion, Bade him, too, follow on that fatal path?" Heart-smitten by the accents of her grief Like poisoned darts, soothing her fond alarm, Incarnate Spring appeared, to bring relief As friendship can, to sore-lamenting Charm. And at the sight of him, she wept the more, And often clutched her throat, and beat her breast; For lamentation finds an open door In the presence of the friends we love the best. Stifling, she cried: "Behold the mournful matter! In place of him thou seekest, what is found? A something that the winds of heaven scatter, A trace of dove-grey ashes on the ground. Arise, O Love! For Spring knows no estranging, Thy friend in lucky hap and evil lot; Man's love for wife is ever doubtful, changing; Man's love for man abides and changes not. With such a friend, thy dart, on dainty pinion Of blossoms, shot from lotus-fibre string, Reduced men, giants, gods to thy dominion-- The triple world has felt that arrow sting. But Love is gone, far gone beyond returning, A candle snuffed by wandering breezes vain; And see! I am his wick, with Love once burning, Now blackened by the smoke of nameless pain. In slaying Love, fate wrought but half a slaughter, For I am left. And yet the clinging vine Must fall, when falls the sturdy tree that taught her Round him in loving tenderness to twine. So then, fulfil for me the final mission Of him who undertakes a kinsman's part; Commit me to the flames (my last petition) And speed the widow to her husband's heart. The moonlight wanders not, the moon forsaking; Where sails the cloud, the lightning is not far; Wife follows mate, is law of nature's making, Yes, even among such things as lifeless are. My breast is stained; I lay among the ashes Of him I loved with all a woman's powers; Now let me lie where death-fire flames and flashes, As glad as on a bed of budding flowers. Sweet Spring, thou camest oft where we lay sleeping On blossoms, I and he whose life is sped; Unto the end thy friendly office keeping, Prepare for me the last, the fiery bed. And fan the flame to which I am committed With southern winds; I would no longer stay; Thou knowest well how slow the moments flitted For Love, my love, when I was far away. And sprinkle some few drops of water, given In friendship, on his ashes and on me; That Love and I may quench our thirst in heaven As once on earth, in heavenly unity. And sometimes seek the grave where Love is lying; Pause there a moment, gentle Spring, and shower Sweet mango-clusters to the winds replying; For he thou lovedst, loved the mango-flower." As Charm prepared to end her mortal pain In fire, she heard a voice from heaven cry, That showed her mercy, as the early rain Shows mercy to the fish, when lakes go dry: "O wife of Love! Thy lover is not lost For evermore. This voice shall tell thee why He perished like the moth, when he had crossed The dreadful god, in fire from Shiva's eye. When darts of Love set Brahma in a flame, To shame his daughter with impure desire, He checked the horrid sin without a name, And cursed the god of love to die by fire. But Virtue interceded in behalf Of Love, and won a softening of the doom: 'Upon the day when Shiva's heart shall laugh In wedding joy, for mercy finding room, He shall unite Love's body with the soul, A marriage-present to his mountain bride.' As clouds hold fire and water in control, Gods are the fount of wrath, and grace beside. So, gentle Charm, preserve thy body sweet For dear reunion after present pain; The stream that dwindles in the summer heat, Is reunited with the autumn rain." Invisibly and thus mysteriously The thoughts of Charm were turned away from death; And Spring, believing where he might not see, Comforted her with words of sweetest breath. The wife of Love awaited thus the day, Though racked by grief, when fate should show its power, As the waning moon laments her darkened ray And waits impatient for the twilight hour. _Fifth canto. The reward of self-denial_.--Parvati reproaches her own beauty, for "loveliness is fruitless if it does not bind a lover." She therefore resolves to lead a life of religious self-denial, hoping that the merit thus acquired will procure her Shiva's love. Her mother tries in vain to dissuade her; her father directs her to a fit mountain peak, and she retires to her devotions. She lays aside all ornaments, lets her hair hang unkempt, and assumes the hermit's dress of bark. While she is spending her days in self-denial, she is visited by a Brahman youth, who compliments her highly upon her rigid devotion, and declares that her conduct proves the truth of the proverb: Beauty can do no wrong. Yet he confesses himself bewildered, for she seems to have everything that heart can desire. He therefore asks her purpose in performing these austerities, and is told how her desires are fixed upon the highest of all objects, upon the god Shiva himself, and how, since Love is dead, she sees no way to win him except by ascetic religion. The youth tries to dissuade Parvati by recounting all the dreadful legends that are current about Shiva: how he wears a coiling snake on his wrist, a bloody elephant-hide upon his back, how he dwells in a graveyard, how he rides upon an undignified bull, how poor he is and of unknown birth. Parvati's anger is awakened by this recital. She frowns and her lip quivers as she defends herself and the object of her love. Shiva, she said, is far beyond the thought Of such as you: then speak no more to me. Dull crawlers hate the splendid wonders wrought By lofty souls untouched by rivalry. They search for wealth, whom dreaded evil nears, Or they who fain would rise a little higher; The world's sole refuge neither hopes nor fears Nor seeks the objects of a small desire. Yes, he is poor, yet he is riches' source; This graveyard-haunter rules the world alone; Dreadful is he, yet all beneficent force: Think you his inmost nature can be known? All forms are his; and he may take or leave At will, the snake, or gem with lustre white; The bloody skin, or silk of softest weave; Dead skulls, or moonbeams radiantly bright. For poverty he rides upon a bull, While Indra, king of heaven, elephant-borne, Bows low to strew his feet with beautiful, Unfading blossoms in his chaplet worn. Yet in the slander spoken in pure hate One thing you uttered worthy of his worth: How could the author of the uncreate Be born? How could we understand his birth? Enough of this! Though every word that you Have said, be faithful, yet would Shiva please My eager heart all made of passion true For him alone. Love sees no blemishes. In response to this eloquence, the youth throws off his disguise, appearing as the god Shiva himself, and declares his love for her. Parvati immediately discontinues her religious asceticism; for "successful effort regenerates." _Sixth canto. Parvati is given in marriage_.--While Parvati departs to inform her father of what has happened, Shiva summons the seven sages, who are to make the formal proposal of marriage to the bride's parents. The seven sages appear, flying through the air, and with them Arundhati, the heavenly model of wifely faith and devotion. On seeing her, Shiva feels his eagerness for marriage increase, realising that All actions of a holy life Are rooted in a virtuous wife. Shiva then explains his purpose, and sends the seven sages to make the formal request for Parvati's hand. The seven sages fly to the brilliant city of Himalaya, where they are received by the mountain god. After a rather portentous interchange of compliments, the seven sages announce their errand, requesting Parvati's hand in behalf of Shiva. The father joyfully assents, and it is agreed that the marriage shall be celebrated after three days. These three days are spent by Shiva in impatient longing. _Seventh canto. Parvati's wedding_.--The three days are spent in preparations for the wedding. So great is Parvati's unadorned beauty that the waiting-women can hardly take their eyes from her to inspect the wedding-dress. But the preparations are complete at last; and the bride is beautiful indeed. As when the flowers are budding on a vine, Or white swans rest upon a river's shore, Or when at night the stars in heaven shine, Her lovely beauty grew with gems she wore. When wide-eyed glances gave her back the same Bright beauty--and the mirror never lies-- She waited with impatience till he came: For women dress to please their lovers' eyes. Meanwhile Shiva finishes his preparations, and sets out on his wedding journey, accompanied by Brahma, Vishnu, and lesser gods. At his journey's end, he is received by his bride's father, and led through streets ankle-deep in flowers, where the windows are filled with the faces of eager and excited women, who gossip together thus: For his sake it was well that Parvati Should mortify her body delicate; Thrice happy might his serving-woman be, And infinitely blest his bosom's mate. Shiva and his retinue then enter the palace, where he is received with bashful love by Parvati, and the wedding is celebrated with due pomp. The nymphs of heaven entertain the company with a play, and Shiva restores the body of Love. _Eighth canto. The honeymoon_.--The first month of marital bliss is spent in Himalaya's palace. After this the happy pair wander for a time among the famous mountain-peaks. One of these they reach at sunset, and Shiva describes the evening glow to his bride. A few stanzas are given here. See, my belovèd, how the sun With beams that o'er the water shake From western skies has now begun A bridge of gold across the lake. Upon the very tree-tops sway The peacocks; even yet they hold And drink the dying light of day, Until their fans are molten gold. The water-lily closes, but With wonderful reluctancy; As if it troubled her to shut Her door of welcome to the bee. The steeds that draw the sun's bright car, With bended neck and falling plume And drooping mane, are seen afar To bury day in ocean's gloom. The sun is down, and heaven sleeps: Thus every path of glory ends; As high as are the scaled steeps, The downward way as low descends. Shiva then retires for meditation. On his return, he finds that his bride is peevish at being left alone even for a little time, and to soothe her, he describes the night which is now advancing. A few stanzas of this description run as follows. The twilight glow is fading far And stains the west with blood-red light, As when a reeking scimitar Slants upward on a field of fight. And vision fails above, below, Around, before us, at our back; The womb of night envelops slow The world with darkness vast and black. Mute while the world is dazed with light, The smiling moon begins to rise And, being teased by eager night, Betrays the secrets of the skies. Moon-fingers move the black, black hair Of night into its proper place, Who shuts her eyes, the lilies fair, As he sets kisses on her face. Shiva and Parvati then drink wine brought them by the guardian goddess of the grove, and in this lovely spot they dwell happily for many years. _Ninth canto. The journey to Mount Kailasa_.--One day the god of fire appears as a messenger from the gods before Shiva, to remonstrate with him for not begetting the son upon whom heaven's welfare depends. Shiva deposits his seed in Fire, who departs, bent low with the burden. Shortly afterwards the gods wait upon Shiva and Parvati, who journey with them to Mount Kailasa, the splendid dwelling-place of the god of wealth. Here also Shiva and Parvati spend happy days. _Tenth canto. The birth of Kumara_.--To Indra, king of the gods, Fire betakes himself, tells his story, and begs to be relieved of his burden. Indra advises him to deposit it in the Ganges. Fire therefore travels to the Ganges, leaves Shiva's seed in the river, and departs much relieved. But now it is the turn of Ganges to be distressed, until at dawn the six Pleiades come to bathe in the river. They find Shiva's seed and lay it in a nest of reeds, where it becomes a child, Kumara, the future god of war. _Eleventh canto. The birth of Kumara, continued_.--Ganges suckles the beautiful infant. But there arises a dispute for the possession of the child between Fire, Ganges, and the Pleiades. At this point Shiva and Parvati arrive, and Parvati, wondering at the beauty of the infant and at the strange quarrel, asks Shiva to whom the child belongs. When Shiva tells her that Kumara is their own child, her joy is unbounded. Because her eyes with happy tears were dim, 'Twas but by snatches that she saw the boy; Yet, with her blossom-hand caressing him, She felt a strange, an unimagined joy. The vision of the infant made her seem A flower unfolding in mysterious bliss; Or, billowy with her joyful tears, a stream; Or pure affection, perfect in a kiss. Shiva conducts Parvati and the boy back to Mount Kailasa, where gods and fairies welcome them with music and dancing. Here the divine child spends the days of a happy infancy, not very different from human infancy; for he learns to walk, gets dirty in the courtyard, laughs a good deal, pulls the scanty hair of an old servant, and learns to count: "One, nine, two, ten, five, seven." These evidences of healthy development cause Shiva and Parvati the most exquisite joy. _Twelfth canto. Kumara is made general_.--Indra, with the other gods, waits upon Shiva, to ask that Kumara, now a youth, may be lent to them as their leader in the campaign against Taraka. The gods are graciously received by Shiva, who asks their errand. Indra prefers their request, whereupon Shiva bids his son assume command of the gods, and slay Taraka. Great is the joy of Kumara himself, of his mother Parvati, and of Indra. _Thirteenth canto. Kumara is consecrated general_.--Kumara takes an affectionate farewell of his parents, and sets out with the gods. When they come to Indra's paradise, the gods are afraid to enter, lest they find their enemy there. There is an amusing scene in which each courteously invites the others to precede him, until Kumara ends their embarrassment by leading the way. Here for the first time Kumara sees with deep respect the heavenly Ganges, Indra's garden and palace, and the heavenly city. But he becomes red-eyed with anger on beholding the devastation wrought by Taraka. He saw departed glory, saw the state Neglected, ruined, sad, of Indra's city, As of a woman with a cowardly mate: And all his inmost heart dissolved in pity. He saw how crystal floors were gashed and torn By wanton tusks of elephants, were strewed With skins that sloughing cobras once had worn: And sadness overcame him as he viewed. He saw beside the bathing-pools the bowers Defiled by elephants grown overbold, Strewn with uprooted golden lotus-flowers, No longer bright with plumage of pure gold, Rough with great, jewelled columns overthrown, Rank with invasion of the untrimmed grass: Shame strove with sorrow at the ruin shown, For heaven's foe had brought these things to pass. Amid these sorrowful surroundings the gods gather and anoint Kumara, thus consecrating him as their general. _Fourteenth canto. The march_.--Kumara prepares for battle, and marshals his army. He is followed by Indra riding on an elephant, Agni on a ram, Yama on a buffalo, a giant on a ghost, Varuna on a dolphin, and many other lesser gods. When all is ready, the army sets out on its dusty march. _Fifteenth canto. The two armies clash_.--The demon Taraka is informed that the hostile army is approaching, but scorns the often-conquered Indra and the boy Kumara. Nevertheless, he prepares for battle, marshals his army, and sets forth to meet the gods. But he is beset by dreadful omens of evil. For foul birds came, a horrid flock to see, Above the army of the foes of heaven, And dimmed the sun, awaiting ravenously The feast of demon corpses to be given. And monstrous snakes, as black as powdered soot, Spitting hot poison high into the air, Brought terror to the army underfoot, And crept and coiled and crawled before them there. The sun a sickly halo round him had; Coiling within it frightened eyes could see Great, writhing serpents, enviously glad Because the demon's death so soon should be. And in the very circle of the sun Were phantom jackals, snarling to be fed; And with impatient haste they seemed to run To drink the demon's blood in battle shed. There fell, with darting flame and blinding flash Lighting the farthest heavens, from on high A thunderbolt whose agonising crash Brought fear and shuddering from a cloudless sky. There came a pelting rain of blazing coals With blood and bones of dead men mingled in; Smoke and weird flashes horrified their souls; The sky was dusty grey like asses' skin. The elephants stumbled and the horses fell, The footmen jostled, leaving each his post, The ground beneath them trembled at the swell Of ocean, when an earthquake shook the host. And dogs before them lifted muzzles foul To see the sun that lit that awful day, And pierced the ears of listeners with a howl Dreadful yet pitiful, then slunk away. Taraka's counsellors endeavour to persuade him to turn back, but he refuses; for timidity is not numbered among his faults. As he advances even worse portents appear, and finally warning voices from heaven call upon him to desist from his undertaking. The voices assure him of Kumara's prowess and inevitable victory; they advise him to make his peace while there is yet time. But Taraka's only answer is a defiance. "You mighty gods that flit about in heaven And take my foeman's part, what would you say? Have you forgot so soon the torture given By shafts of mine that never miss their way? Why should I fear before a six-days child? Why should you prowl in heaven and gibber shrill, Like dogs that in an autumn night run wild, Like deer that sneak through forests, trembling still? The boy whom you have chosen as your chief In vain upon his hermit-sire shall cry; The upright die, if taken with a thief: First you shall perish, then he too shall die." And as Taraka emphasises his meaning by brandishing his great sword, the warning spirits flee, their knees knocking together. Taraka laughs horribly, then mounts his chariot, and advances against the army of the gods. On the other side the gods advance, and the two armies clash. _Sixteenth canto. The battle between gods and demons_.--This canto is entirely taken up with the struggle between the two armies. A few stanzas are given here. As pairs of champions stood forth To test each other's fighting worth, The bards who knew the family fame Proclaimed aloud each mighty name. As ruthless weapons cut their way Through quilted armour in the fray, White tufts of cotton flew on high Like hoary hairs upon the sky. Blood-dripping swords reflected bright The sunbeams in that awful fight; Fire-darting like the lightning-flash, They showed how mighty heroes clash. The archers' arrows flew so fast, As through a hostile breast they passed, That they were buried in the ground, No stain of blood upon them found. The swords that sheaths no longer clasped, That hands of heroes firmly grasped, Flashed out in glory through the fight, As if they laughed in mad delight. And many a warrior's eager lance Shone radiant in the eerie dance, A curling, lapping tongue of death To lick away the soldier's breath. Some, panting with a bloody thirst, Fought toward the victim chosen first, But had a reeking path to hew Before they had him full in view. Great elephants, their drivers gone And pierced with arrows, struggled on, But sank at every step in mud Made liquid by the streams of blood. The warriors falling in the fray, Whose heads the sword had lopped away, Were able still to fetch a blow That slew the loud-exulting foe. The footmen thrown to Paradise By elephants of monstrous size, Were seized upon by nymphs above, Exchanging battle-scenes for love. The lancer, charging at his foe, Would pierce him through and bring him low, And would not heed the hostile dart That found a lodgment in his heart. The war-horse, though unguided, stopped The moment that his rider dropped, And wept above the lifeless head, Still faithful to his master dead. Two lancers fell with mortal wound And still they struggled on the ground; With bristling hair, with brandished knife, Each strove to end the other's life. Two slew each other in the fight; To Paradise they took their flight; There with a nymph they fell in love, And still they fought in heaven above. Two souls there were that reached the sky; From heights of heaven they could spy Two writhing corpses on the plain, And knew their headless forms again. As the struggle comes to no decisive issue, Taraka seeks out the chief gods, and charges upon them. _Seventeenth canto. Taraka is slain_.--Taraka engages the principal gods and defeats them with magic weapons. When they are relieved by Kumara, the demon turns to the youthful god of war, and advises him to retire from the battle. Stripling, you are the only son Of Shiva and of Parvati. Go safe and live! Why should you run On certain death? Why fight with me? Withdraw! Let sire and mother blest Clasp living son to joyful breast. Flee, son of Shiva, flee the host Of Indra drowning in the sea That soon shall close upon his boast In choking waves of misery. For Indra is a ship of stone; Withdraw, and let him sink alone. Kumara answers with modest firmness. The words you utter in your pride, O demon-prince, are only fit; Yet I am minded to abide The fight, and see the end of it. The tight-strung bow and brandished sword Decide, and not the spoken word. And with this the duel begins. When Taraka finds his arrows parried by Kumara, he employs the magic weapon of the god of wind. When this too is parried, he uses the magic weapon of the god of fire, which Kumara neutralises with the weapon of the god of water. As they fight on, Kumara finds an opening, and slays Taraka with his lance, to the unbounded delight of the universe. Here the poem ends, in the form in which it has come down to us. It has been sometimes thought that we have less than Kalidasa wrote, partly because of a vague tradition that there were once twenty-three cantos, partly because the customary prayer is lacking at the end. These arguments are not very cogent. Though the concluding prayer is not given in form, yet the stanzas which describe the joy of the universe fairly fill its place. And one does not see with what matter further cantos would be concerned. The action promised in the earlier part is completed in the seventeenth canto. It has been somewhat more formidably argued that the concluding cantos are spurious, that Kalidasa wrote only the first seven or perhaps the first eight cantos. Yet, after all, what do these arguments amount to? Hardly more than this, that the first eight cantos are better poetry than the last nine. As if a poet were always at his best, even when writing on a kind of subject not calculated to call out his best. Fighting is not Kalidasa's _forte_; love is. Even so, there is great vigour in the journey of Taraka, the battle, and the duel. It may not be the highest kind of poetry, but it is wonderfully vigorous poetry of its kind. And if we reject the last nine cantos, we fall into a very much greater difficulty. The poem would be glaringly incomplete, its early promise obviously disregarded. We should have a _Birth of the War-god_ in which the poet stopped before the war-god was born. There seems then no good reason to doubt that we have the epic substantially as Kalidasa wrote it. Plainly, it has a unity which is lacking in Kalidasa's other epic, _The Dynasty_ _of Raghu_, though in this epic, too, the interest shifts. Parvati's love-affair is the matter of the first half, Kumara's fight with the demon the matter of the second half. Further, it must be admitted that the interest runs a little thin. Even in India, where the world of gods runs insensibly into the world of men, human beings take more interest in the adventures of men than of gods. The gods, indeed, can hardly have adventures; they must be victorious. _The Birth of the War-god_ pays for its greater unity by a poverty of adventure. It would be interesting if we could know whether this epic was written before or after _The Dynasty of Raghu_. But we have no data for deciding the question, hardly any for even arguing it. The introduction to _The Dynasty of Raghu_ seems, indeed, to have been written by a poet who yet had his spurs to win. But this is all. As to the comparative excellence of the two epics, opinions differ. My own preference is for _The Dynasty of Raghu_, yet there are passages in _The Birth of the War-god_ of a piercing beauty which the world can never let die. * * * * * THE CLOUD-MESSENGER In _The Cloud-Messenger_ Kalidasa created a new _genre_ in Sanskrit literature. Hindu critics class the poem with _The Dynasty of Raghu_ and _The Birth of the War-god_ as a _kavya_, or learned epic. This it obviously is not. It is fair enough to call it an elegiac poem, though a precisian might object to the term. We have already seen, in speaking of _The Dynasty of Raghu_, what admiration Kalidasa felt for his great predecessor Valmiki, the author of the _Ramayana_; and it is quite possible that an episode of the early epic suggested to him the idea which he has exquisitely treated in _The Cloud-Messenger_. In the _Ramayana_, after the defeat and death of Ravana, Rama returns with his wife and certain heroes of the struggle from Ceylon to his home in Northern India. The journey, made in an aërial car, gives the author an opportunity to describe the country over which the car must pass in travelling from one end of India to the other. The hint thus given him was taken by Kalidasa; a whole canto of _The Dynasty of Raghu_ (the thirteenth) is concerned with the aërial journey. Now if, as seems not improbable, _The Dynasty of Raghu_ was the earliest of Kalidasa's more ambitious works, it is perhaps legitimate to imagine him, as he wrote this canto, suddenly inspired with the plan of _The Cloud-Messenger_. This plan is slight and fanciful. A demigod, in consequence of some transgression against his master, the god of wealth, is condemned to leave his home in the Himalayas, and spend a year of exile on a peak in the Vindhya Mountains, which divide the Deccan from the Ganges basin. He wishes to comfort and encourage his wife, but has no messenger to send her. In his despair, he begs a passing cloud to carry his words. He finds it necessary to describe the long journey which the cloud must take, and, as the two termini are skilfully chosen, the journey involves a visit to many of the spots famous in Indian story. The description of these spots fills the first half of the poem. The second half is filled with a more minute description of the heavenly city, of the home and bride of the demigod, and with the message proper. The proportions of the poem may appear unfortunate to the Western reader, in whom the proper names of the first half will wake scanty associations. Indeed, it is no longer possible to identify all the places mentioned, though the general route followed by the cloud can be easily traced. The peak from which he starts is probably one near the modern Nagpore. From this peak he flies a little west of north to the Nerbudda River, and the city of Ujjain; thence pretty straight north to the upper Ganges and the Himalaya. The geography of the magic city of Alaka is quite mythical. _The Cloud-Messenger_ contains one hundred and fifteen four-line stanzas, in a majestic metre called the "slow-stepper." The English stanza which has been chosen for the translation gives perhaps as fair a representation of the original movement as may be, where direct imitation is out of the question. Though the stanza of the translation has five lines to four for the slow-stepper, it contains fewer syllables; a constant check on the temptation to padding. The analysis which accompanies the poem, and which is inserted in Italics at the beginning of each stanza, has more than one object. It saves footnotes; it is intended as a real help to comprehension; and it is an eminently Hindu device. Indeed, it was my first intention to translate literally portions of Mallinatha's famous commentary; and though this did not prove everywhere feasible, there is nothing in the analysis except matter suggested by the commentary. One minor point calls for notice. The word Himálaya has been accented on the second syllable wherever it occurs. This accent is historically correct, and has some foothold in English usage; besides, it is more euphonious and better adapted to the needs of the metre. FORMER CLOUD I _A Yaksha, or divine attendant on Kubera, god of wealth, is exiled for a year from his home in the Himalayas. As he dwells on a peak in the Vindhya range, half India separates him from his young bride_. On Rama's shady peak where hermits roam, Mid streams by Sita's bathing sanctified, An erring Yaksha made his hapless home, Doomed by his master humbly to abide, And spend a long, long year of absence from his bride. II _After eight months of growing emaciation, the first cloud warns him of the approach of the rainy season, when neglected brides are wont to pine and die_. Some months were gone; the lonely lover's pain Had loosed his golden bracelet day by day Ere he beheld the harbinger of rain, A cloud that charged the peak in mimic fray, As an elephant attacks a bank of earth in play. III Before this cause of lovers' hopes and fears Long time Kubera's bondman sadly bowed In meditation, choking down his tears-- Even happy hearts thrill strangely to the cloud; To him, poor wretch, the loved embrace was disallowed. IV _Unable to send tidings otherwise of his health and unchanging love, he resolves to make the cloud his messenger_. Longing to save his darling's life, unblest With joyous tidings, through the rainy days, He plucked fresh blossoms for his cloudy guest, Such homage as a welcoming comrade pays, And bravely spoke brave words of greeting and of praise. V Nor did it pass the lovelorn Yaksha's mind How all unfitly might his message mate With a cloud, mere fire and water, smoke and wind-- Ne'er yet was lover could discriminate 'Twixt life and lifeless things, in his love-blinded state. VI _He prefers his request_, I know, he said, thy far-famed princely line, Thy state, in heaven's imperial council chief, Thy changing forms; to thee, such fate is mine, I come a suppliant in my widowed grief-- Better thy lordly "no" than meaner souls' relief. VII O cloud, the parching spirit stirs thy pity; My bride is far, through royal wrath and might; Bring her my message to the Yaksha city, Rich-gardened Alaka, where radiance bright From Shiva's crescent bathes the palaces in light. VIII _hinting at the same time that the' cloud will find his kindly labour rewarded by pleasures on the road_, When thou art risen to airy paths of heaven, Through lifted curls the wanderer's love shall peep And bless the sight of thee for comfort given; Who leaves his bride through cloudy days to weep Except he be like me, whom chains of bondage keep? IX _and by happy omens_. While favouring breezes waft thee gently forth, And while upon thy left the plover sings His proud, sweet song, the cranes who know thy worth Will meet thee in the sky on joyful wings And for delights anticipated join their rings. X _He assures the cloud that his bride is neither dead nor faithless_; Yet hasten, O my brother, till thou see-- Counting the days that bring the lonely smart-- The faithful wife who only lives for me: A drooping flower is woman's loving heart, Upheld by the stem of hope when two true lovers part. XI _further, that there will be no lack of travelling companions_. And when they hear thy welcome thunders break, When mushrooms sprout to greet thy fertile weeks, The swans who long for the Himalayan lake Will be thy comrades to Kailasa's peaks, With juicy bits of lotus-fibre in their beaks. XII One last embrace upon this mount bestow Whose flanks were pressed by Rama's holy feet, Who yearly strives his love for thee to show, Warmly his well-beloved friend to greet With the tear of welcome shed when two long-parted meet. XIII _He then describes the long journey_, Learn first, O cloud, the road that thou must go, Then hear my message ere thou speed away; Before thee mountains rise and rivers flow: When thou art weary, on the mountains stay, And when exhausted, drink the rivers' driven spray. XIV _beginning with the departure from Rama's peak, where dwells a company of Siddhas, divine beings of extraordinary sanctity_. Elude the heavenly elephants' clumsy spite; Fly from this peak in richest jungle drest; And Siddha maids who view thy northward flight Will upward gaze in simple terror, lest The wind be carrying quite away the mountain crest. XV Bright as a heap of flashing gems, there shines Before thee on the ant-hill, Indra's bow; Matched with that dazzling rainbow's glittering lines, Thy sombre form shall find its beauties grow, Like the dark herdsman Vishnu, with peacock-plumes aglow. XVI _The Mala plateau_. The farmers' wives on Mala's lofty lea, Though innocent of all coquettish art, Will give thee loving glances; for on thee Depends the fragrant furrow's fruitful part; Thence, barely westering, with lightened burden start. XVII _The Mango Peak_. The Mango Peak whose forest fires were laid By streams of thine, will soothe thy weariness; In memory of a former service paid, Even meaner souls spurn not in time of stress A suppliant friend; a soul so lofty, much the less. XVIII With ripened mango-fruits his margins teem; And thou, like wetted braids, art blackness quite; When resting on the mountain, thou wilt seem Like the dark nipple on Earth's bosom white, For mating gods and goddesses a thrilling sight. XIX _The Reva, or Nerbudda River, foaming against the mountain side_, His bowers are sweet to forest maidens ever; Do thou upon his crest a moment bide, Then fly, rain-quickened, to the Reva river Which gaily breaks on Vindhya's rocky side, Like painted streaks upon an elephant's dingy hide. XX _and flavoured with the ichor which exudes from the temples of elephants during the mating season_. Refresh thyself from thine exhausted state With ichor-pungent drops that fragrant flow; Thou shalt not then to every wind vibrate-- Empty means ever light, and full means added weight. XXI Spying the madder on the banks, half brown, Half green with shoots that struggle to the birth, Nibbling where early plantain-buds hang down, Scenting the sweet, sweet smell of forest earth, The deer will trace thy misty track that ends the dearth. XXII Though thou be pledged to ease my darling's pain, Yet I foresee delay on every hill Where jasmines blow, and where the peacock-train Cries forth with joyful tears a welcome shrill; Thy sacrifice is great, but haste thy journey still. XXIII _The Dasharna country_, At thine approach, Dasharna land is blest With hedgerows where gay buds are all aglow, With village trees alive with many a nest Abuilding by the old familiar crow, With lingering swans, with ripe rose-apples' darker show. XXIV _and its capital Vidisha, on the banks of Reed River_. There shalt thou see the royal city, known Afar, and win the lover's fee complete, If thou subdue thy thunders to a tone Of murmurous gentleness, and taste the sweet, Love-rippling features of the river at thy feet. XXV A moment rest on Nichais' mountain then, Where madder-bushes don their blossom coat As thrilling to thy touch; where city men O'er youth's unbridled pleasures fondly gloat In caverns whence the perfumes of gay women float. XXVI Fly on refreshed; and sprinkle buds that fade On jasmine-vines in gardens wild and rare By forest rivers; and with loving shade Caress the flower-girls' heated faces fair, Whereon the lotuses droop withering from their hair. XXVII _The famous old city of Ujjain, the home of the poet, and dearly beloved by him_; Swerve from thy northern path; for westward rise The palace balconies thou mayst not slight In fair Ujjain; and if bewitching eyes That flutter at thy gleams, should not delight Thine amorous bosom, useless were thy gift of sight. XXVIII _and the river, personified as a loving woman, whom the cloud will meet just before he reaches the city_. The neighbouring mountain stream that gliding grants A glimpse of charms in whirling eddies pursed, While noisy swans accompany her dance Like a tinkling zone, will slake thy loving thirst-- A woman always tells her love in gestures first. XXIX Thou only, happy lover! canst repair The desolation that thine absence made: Her shrinking current seems the careless hair That brides deserted wear in single braid, And dead leaves falling give her face a paler shade. XXX _The city of Ujjain is fully described_, Sufficed, though fallen from heaven, to bring down heaven on earth! XXXI Where the river-breeze at dawn, with fragrant gain From friendly lotus-blossoms, lengthens out The clear, sweet passion-warbling of the crane, To cure the women's languishing, and flout With a lover's coaxing all their hesitating doubt. XXXII Enriched with odours through the windows drifting From perfumed hair, and greeted as a friend By peacock pets their wings in dances lifting, On flower-sweet balconies thy labour end, Where prints of dear pink feet an added glory lend. XXXIII _especially its famous shrine to Shiva, called Mahakala_; Black as the neck of Shiva, very God, Dear therefore to his hosts, thou mayest go To his dread shrine, round which the gardens nod When breezes rich with lotus-pollen blow And ointments that the gaily bathing maidens know. XXXIV Reaching that temple at another time, Wait till the sun is lost to human eyes; For if thou mayest play the part sublime Of Shiva's drum at evening sacrifice, Then hast thou in thy thunders grave a priceless prize. XXXV The women there, whose girdles long have tinkled In answer to the dance, whose hands yet seize And wave their fans with lustrous gems besprinkled, Will feel thine early drops that soothe and please, And recompense thee from black eyes like clustering bees. XXXVI _and the black cloud, painted with twilight red, is bidden to serve as a robe for the god, instead of the bloody elephant hide which he commonly wears in his wild dance_. Clothing thyself in twilight's rose-red glory, Embrace the dancing Shiva's tree-like arm; He will prefer thee to his mantle gory And spare his grateful goddess-bride's alarm, Whose eager gaze will manifest no fear of harm. XXXVII _After one night of repose in the city_ Where women steal to rendezvous by night Through darkness that a needle might divide, Show them the road with lightning-flashes bright As golden streaks upon the touchstone's side-- But rain and thunder not, lest they be terrified. XXXVIII On some rich balcony where sleep the doves, Through the dark night with thy beloved stay, The lightning weary with the sport she loves; But with the sunrise journey on thy way-- For they that labour for a friend do not delay. XXXIX The gallant dries his mistress' tears that stream When he returns at dawn to her embrace-- Prevent thou not the sun's bright-fingered beam That wipes the tear-dew from the lotus' face; His anger else were great, and great were thy disgrace. XL _the cloud is besought to travel to Deep River_. Thy winsome shadow-soul will surely find An entrance in Deep River's current bright, As thoughts find entrance in a placid mind; Then let no rudeness of thine own affright The darting fish that seem her glances lotus-white. XLI But steal her sombre veil of mist away, Although her reeds seem hands that clutch the dress To hide her charms; thou hast no time to stay, Yet who that once has known a dear caress Could bear to leave a woman's unveiled loveliness? XLII _Thence to Holy Peak_, The breeze 'neath which the breathing acre grants New odours, and the forest figs hang sleek, With pleasant whistlings drunk by elephants Through long and hollow trunks, will gently seek To waft thee onward fragrantly to Holy Peak. XLIII _the dwelling-place of Skanda, god of war, the child of Shiva and Gauri, concerning whose birth more than one quaint tale is told_. There change thy form; become a cloud of flowers With heavenly moisture wet, and pay the meed Of praise to Skanda with thy blossom showers; That sun-outshining god is Shiva's seed, Fire-born to save the heavenly hosts in direst need. XLIV God Skanda's peacock--he whose eyeballs shine By Shiva's moon, whose flashing fallen plume The god's fond mother wears, a gleaming line Over her ear beside the lotus bloom-- Will dance to thunders echoing in the caverns' room. XLV _Thence to Skin River, so called because it flowed forth from a mountain of cattle carcasses, offered in sacrifice by the pious emperor Rantideva_. Adore the reed-born god and speed away, While Siddhas flee, lest rain should put to shame The lutes which they devoutly love to play; But pause to glorify the stream whose name Recalls the sacrificing emperor's blessed fame. XLVI Narrow the river seems from heaven's blue; And gods above, who see her dainty line Matched, when thou drinkest, with thy darker hue, Will think they see a pearly necklace twine Round Earth, with one great sapphire in its midst ashine. XLVII _The province of the Ten Cities_. Beyond, the province of Ten Cities lies Whose women, charming with their glances rash, Will view thine image with bright, eager eyes, Dark eyes that dance beneath the lifted lash, As when black bees round nodding jasmine-blossoms flash. XLVIII _The Hallowed Land, where were fought the awful battles of the ancient epic time_. Then veil the Hallowed Land in cloudy shade; Visit the field where to this very hour Lie bones that sank beneath the soldier's blade, Where Arjuna discharged his arrowy shower On men, as thou thy rain-jets on the lotus-flower. XLIX _In these battles, the hero Balarama, whose weapon was a plough-share, would take no part, because kinsmen of his were fighting in each army. He preferred to spend the time in drinking from the holy river Sarasvati, though little accustomed to any other drink than wine_. Sweet friend, drink where those holy waters shine Which the plough-bearing hero--loath to fight His kinsmen--rather drank than sweetest wine With a loving bride's reflected eyes alight; Then, though thy form be black, thine inner soul is bright. L _The Ganges River, which originates in heaven. Its fall is broken by the head of Shiva, who stands on the Himalaya Mountains; otherwise the shock would be too great for the earth. But Shiva's goddess-bride is displeased_. Fly then where Ganges o'er the king of mountains Falls like a flight of stairs from heaven let down For the sons of men; she hurls her billowy fountains Like hands to grasp the moon on Shiva's crown And laughs her foamy laugh at Gauri's jealous frown. LI _The dark cloud is permitted to mingle with the clear stream of Ganges, as the muddy Jumna River does near the city now called Allahabad_. If thou, like some great elephant of the sky, Shouldst wish from heaven's eminence to bend And taste the crystal stream, her beauties high-- As thy dark shadows with her whiteness blend-- Would be what Jumna's waters at Prayaga lend. LII _The magnificent Himalaya range_. Her birth-place is Himalaya's rocky crest Whereon the scent of musk is never lost, For deer rest ever there where thou wilt rest Sombre against the peak with whiteness glossed, Like dark earth by the snow-white bull of Shiva tossed. LIII If, born from friction of the deodars, A scudding fire should prove the mountain's bane, Singeing the tails of yaks with fiery stars, Quench thou the flame with countless streams of rain-- The great have power that they may soothe distress and pain. LIV If mountain monsters should assail thy path With angry leaps that of their object fail, Only to hurt themselves in helpless wrath, Scatter the creatures with thy pelting hail-- For who is not despised that strives without avail? LV Bend lowly down and move in reverent state Round Shiva's foot-print on the rocky plate With offerings laden by the saintly great; The sight means heaven as their eternal fate When death and sin are past, for them that faithful wait. LVI The breeze is piping on the bamboo-tree; And choirs of heaven sing in union sweet O'er demon foe of Shiva's victory; If thunders in the caverns drumlike beat, Then surely Shiva's symphony will be complete. LVII _The mountain pass called the Swan-gate_. Pass by the wonders of the snowy slope; Through the Swan-gate, through mountain masses rent To make his fame a path by Bhrigu's hope In long, dark beauty fly, still northward bent, Like Vishnu's foot, when he sought the demon's chastisement. LVIII _And at Mount Kailasa, the long journey is ended_; Seek then Kailasa's hospitable care, With peaks by magic arms asunder riven, To whom, as mirror, goddesses repair, So lotus-bright his summits cloud the heaven, Like form and substance to God's daily laughter given. LIX Like powder black and soft I seem to see Thine outline on the mountain slope as bright As new-sawn tusks of stainless ivory; No eye could wink before as fair a sight As dark-blue robes upon the Ploughman's shoulder white. LX Should Shiva throw his serpent-ring aside And give Gauri his hand, go thou before Upon the mount of joy to be their guide; Conceal within thee all thy watery store And seem a terraced stairway to the jewelled floor. LXI I doubt not that celestial maidens sweet With pointed bracelet gems will prick thee there To make of thee a shower-bath in the heat; Frighten the playful girls if they should dare To keep thee longer, friend, with thunder's harshest blare. LXII Drink where the golden lotus dots the lake; Serve Indra's elephant as a veil to hide His drinking; then the tree of wishing shake, Whose branches like silk garments flutter wide: With sports like these, O cloud, enjoy the mountain side. LXIII _for on this mountain is the city of the Yakshas_. Then, in familiar Alaka find rest, Down whom the Ganges' silken river swirls, Whose towers cling to her mountain lover's breast, While clouds adorn her face like glossy curls And streams of rain like strings of close-inwoven pearls. LATTER CLOUD I _The splendid heavenly city Alaka_, Where palaces in much may rival thee-- Their ladies gay, thy lightning's dazzling powers-- Symphonic drums, thy thunder's melody-- Their bright mosaic floors, thy silver showers-- Thy rainbow, paintings, and thy height, cloud-licking towers. II _where the flowers which on earth blossom at different seasons, are all found in bloom the year round_. Where the autumn lotus in dear fingers shines, And lodh-flowers' April dust on faces rare, Spring amaranth with winter jasmine twines In women's braids, and summer siris fair, The rainy madder in the parting of their hair. III _Here grows the magic tree which yields whatever is desired_. Where men with maids whose charm no blemish mars Climb to the open crystal balcony Inlaid with flower-like sparkling of the stars, And drink the love-wine from the wishing-tree, And listen to the drums' deep-thundering dignity. IV Where maidens whom the gods would gladly wed Are fanned by breezes cool with Ganges' spray In shadows that the trees of heaven spread; In golden sands at hunt-the-pearl they play, Bury their little fists, and draw them void away. V Where lovers' passion-trembling fingers cling To silken robes whose sashes flutter wide, The knots undone; and red-lipped women fling, Silly with shame, their rouge from side to side. Hoping in vain the flash of jewelled lamps to hide. VI Where, brought to balconies' palatial tops By ever-blowing guides, were clouds before Like thee who spotted paintings with their drops; Then, touched with guilty fear, were seen no more, But scattered smoke-like through the lattice' grated door. VII _Here are the stones from which drops of water ooze when the moon shines on them_. Where from the moonstones hung in nets of thread Great drops of water trickle in the night-- When the moon shines clear and thou, O cloud, art fled-- To ease the languors of the women's plight Who lie relaxed and tired in love's embraces tight. VIII _Here are the magic gardens of heaven_. Where lovers, rich with hidden wealth untold, Wander each day with nymphs for ever young, Enjoy the wonders that the gardens hold, The Shining Gardens, where the praise is sung Of the god of wealth by choirs with love-impassioned tongue. IX Where sweet nocturnal journeys are betrayed At sunrise by the fallen flowers from curls That fluttered as they stole along afraid, By leaves, by golden lotuses, by pearls, By broken necklaces that slipped from winsome girls. X _Here the god of love is not seen, because of the presence of his great enemy, Shiva. Yet his absence is not severely felt_. Where the god of love neglects his bee-strung bow, Since Shiva's friendship decks Kubera's reign; His task is done by clever maids, for lo! Their frowning missile glances, darting plain At lover-targets, never pass the mark in vain. XI _Here the goddesses have all needful ornaments. For the Mine of Sentiment declares: "Women everywhere have four kinds of ornaments--hair-ornaments, jewels, clothes, cosmetics; anything else is local_." Where the wishing-tree yields all that might enhance The loveliness of maidens young and sweet: Bright garments, wine that teaches eyes to dance, And flowering twigs, and rarest gems discrete, And lac-dye fit to stain their pretty lotus-feet. XII _And here is the home of the unhappy Yaksha_, There, northward from the master's palace, see Our home, whose rainbow-gateway shines afar; And near it grows a little coral-tree, Bending 'neath many a blossom's clustered star, Loved by my bride as children of adoption are. XIII _with its artificial pool_; A pool is near, to which an emerald stair Leads down, with blooming lotuses of gold Whose stalks are polished beryl; resting there, The wistful swans are glad when they behold Thine image, and forget the lake they loved of old. XIV _its hill of sport, girdled by bright hedges, like the dark cloud girdled by the lightening_; And on the bank, a sapphire-crested hill Round which the golden plantain-hedges fit; She loves the spot; and while I marvel still At thee, my friend, as flashing lightnings flit About thine edge, with restless rapture I remember it. XV _its two favourite trees, which will not blossom while their mistress is grieving_; The ashoka-tree, with sweetly dancing lines, The favourite bakul-tree, are near the bower Of amaranth-engirdled jasmine-vines; Like me, they wait to feel the winning power Of her persuasion, ere they blossom into flower. XVI _its tame peacock_; A golden pole is set between the pair, With crystal perch above its emerald bands As green as young bamboo; at sunset there Thy friend, the blue-necked peacock, rises, stands, And dances when she claps her bracelet-tinkling hands. XVII _and its painted emblems of the god of wealth_. These are the signs--recall them o'er and o'er, My clever friend--by which the house is known, And the Conch and Lotus painted by the door: Alas! when I am far, the charm is gone-- The lotus' loveliness is lost with set of sun. XVIII Small as the elephant cub thou must become For easy entrance; rest where gems enhance The glory of the hill beside my home, And peep into the house with lightning-glance, But make its brightness dim as fireflies' twinkling dance. XIX _The Yaksha's bride_. The supremest woman from God's workshop gone-- Young, slender; little teeth and red, red lips, Slight waist and gentle eyes of timid fawn, An idly graceful movement, generous hips, Fair bosom into which the sloping shoulder slips-- XX Like a bird that mourns her absent mate anew Passing these heavy days in longings keen, My girlish wife whose words are sweet and few, My second life, shall there of thee be seen-- But changed like winter-blighted lotus-blooms, I ween. XXI Her eyes are swol'n with tears that stream unchidden; Her lips turn pale with sorrow's burning sighs; The face that rests upon her hand is hidden By hanging curls, as when the glory dies Of the suffering moon pursued by thee through nightly skies. XXII _The passion of love passes through ten stages, eight of which are suggested in this stanza and the stanzas which follow. The first stage is not indicated; it is called Exchange of Glances_. Thou first wilt see her when she seeks relief In worship; or, half fancying, half recalling, She draws mine image worn by absent grief; Or asks the caged, sweetly-singing starling: "Do you remember, dear, our lord? You were his darling." XXIII _In this stanza and the preceding one is suggested the second stage: Wistfulness_. Or holds a lute on her neglected skirt, And tries to sing of me, and tries in vain; For she dries the tear-wet string with hands inert, And e'er begins, and e'er forgets again, Though she herself composed it once, the loving strain. XXIV _Here is suggested the third stage: Desire_. Or counts the months of absence yet remaining With flowers laid near the threshold on the floor, Or tastes the bliss of hours when love was gaining The memories recollected o'er and o'er-- woman's comforts when her lonely heart is sore. XXV _Here is suggested the fourth stage: Wakefulness_. Such daytime labours doubtless ease the ache Which doubly hurts her in the helpless dark; With news from me a keener joy to wake, Stand by her window in the night, and mark My sleepless darling on her pallet hard and stark. XXVI _Here is suggested the fifth stage: Emaciation_. Resting one side upon that widowed bed, Like the slender moon upon the Eastern height, So slender she, now worn with anguish dread, Passing with stifling tears the long, sad night Which, spent in love with me, seemed but a moment's flight. XXVII _Here is suggested the sixth stage: Loss of Interest in Ordinary Pleasures_. On the cool, sweet moon that through the lattice flashes She looks with the old delight, then turns away And veils her eyes with water-weighted lashes, Sad as the flower that blooms in sunlight gay, But cannot wake nor slumber on a cloudy day. XXVIII _Here is suggested the seventh stage: Loss of Youthful Bashfulness_. One unanointed curl still frets her cheek When tossed by sighs that burn her blossom-lip; And still she yearns, and still her yearnings seek That we might be united though in sleep-- Ah! Happy dreams come not to brides that ever weep. XXIX _Here is suggested the eighth stage: Absent-mindedness. For if she were not absent-minded, she would arrange the braid so as not to be annoyed by it_. Her single tight-bound braid she pushes oft-- With a hand uncared for in her lonely madness-- So rough it seems, from the cheek that is so soft: That braid ungarlanded since the first day's sadness, Which I shall loose again when troubles end in gladness. XXX _Here is suggested the ninth stage: Prostration. The tenth stage, Death, is not suggested_. The delicate body, weak and suffering, Quite unadorned and tossing to and fro In oft-renewing wretchedness, will wring Even from thee a raindrop-tear, I know-- Soft breasts like thine are pitiful to others' woe. XXXI I know her bosom full of love for me, And therefore fancy how her soul doth grieve In this our first divorce; it cannot be Self-flattery that idle boastings weave-- Soon shalt thou see it all, and seeing, shalt believe. XXXII _Quivering of the eyelids_ Her hanging hair prevents the twinkling shine Of fawn-eyes that forget their glances sly, Lost to the friendly aid of rouge and wine-- Yet the eyelids quiver when thou drawest nigh As water-lilies do when fish go scurrying by. XXXIII _and trembling of the limbs are omens of speedy union with the beloved_. And limbs that thrill to thee thy welcome prove, Limbs fair as stems in some rich plantain-bower, No longer showing marks of my rough love, Robbed of their cooling pearls by fatal power, The limbs which I was wont to soothe in passion's hour. XXXIV But if she should be lost in happy sleep, Wait, bear with her, grant her but three hours' grace, And thunder not, O cloud, but let her keep The dreaming vision of her lover's face-- Loose not too soon the imagined knot of that embrace. XXXV As thou wouldst wake the jasmine's budding wonder, Wake her with breezes blowing mistily; Conceal thy lightnings, and with words of thunder Speak boldly, though she answer haughtily With eyes that fasten on the lattice and on thee. XXXVI _The cloud is instructed how to announce himself_ "Thou art no widow; for thy husband's friend Is come to tell thee what himself did say-- A cloud with low, sweet thunder-tones that send All weary wanderers hastening on their way, Eager to loose the braids of wives that lonely stay." XXXVII _in such a way as to win the favour of his auditor_. Say this, and she will welcome thee indeed, Sweet friend, with a yearning heart's tumultuous beating And joy-uplifted eyes; and she will heed The after message: such a friendly greeting Is hardly less to woman's heart than lovers' meeting. XXXVIII _The message itself_. Thus too, my king, I pray of thee to speak, Remembering kindness is its own reward; "Thy lover lives, and from the holy peak Asks if these absent days good health afford-- Those born to pain must ever use this opening word. XXXIX With body worn as thine, with pain as deep, With tears and ceaseless longings answering thine, With sighs more burning than the sighs that keep Thy lips ascorch--doomed far from thee to pine, He too doth weave the fancies that thy soul entwine. XL He used to love, when women friends were near, To whisper things he might have said aloud That he might touch thy face and kiss thine ear; Unheard and even unseen, no longer proud, He now must send this yearning message by a cloud. XLI _According to the treatise called "Virtues Banner," a lover has four solaces in separation: first, looking at objects that remind him of her he loves_; 'I see thy limbs in graceful-creeping vines, Thy glances in the eyes of gentle deer, Thine eyebrows in the ripple's dancing lines, Thy locks in plumes, thy face in moonlight clear-- Ah, jealous! But the whole sweet image is not here. XLII _second, painting a picture of her_; And when I paint that loving jealousy With chalk upon the rock, and my caress As at thy feet I lie, I cannot see Through tears that to mine eyes unbidden press-- So stern a fate denies a painted happiness. XLIII _third, dreaming of her_; And when I toss mine arms to clasp thee tight, Mine own though but in visions of a dream-- They who behold the oft-repeated sight, The kind divinities of wood and stream, Let fall great pearly tears that on the blossoms gleam. XLIV _fourth, touching something which she has touched_. Himalaya's breeze blows gently from the north, Unsheathing twigs upon the deodar And sweet with sap that it entices forth-- I embrace it lovingly; it came so far, Perhaps it touched thee first, my life's unchanging star! XLV Oh, might the long, long night seem short to me! Oh, might the day his hourly tortures hide! Such longings for the things that cannot be, Consume my helpless heart, sweet-glancing bride, In burning agonies of absence from thy side. XLVI _The bride is besought not to lose heart at hearing of her lover's wretchedness_, Yet much reflection, dearest, makes me strong, Strong with an inner strength; nor shouldst thou feel Despair at what has come to us of wrong; Who has unending woe or lasting weal? Our fates move up and down upon a circling wheel. XLVII _and to remember that the curse has its appointed end, when the rainy season is over and the year of exile fulfilled. Vishnu spends the rainy months in sleep upon the back of the cosmic serpent Shesha_. When Vishnu rises from his serpent bed The curse is ended; close thine eyelids tight And wait till only four months more are sped; Then we shall taste each long-desired delight Through nights that the full autumn moon illumines bright. XLVIII _Then is added a secret which, as it could not possibly be known to a third person, assures her that the cloud is a true messenger_. And one thing more: thou layest once asleep, Clasping my neck, then wakening with a scream; And when I wondered why, thou couldst but weep A while, and then a smile began to beam: "Rogue! Rogue! I saw thee with another girl in dream." XLIX This memory shows me cheerful, gentle wife; Then let no gossip thy suspicions move: They say the affections strangely forfeit life In separation, but in truth they prove Toward the absent dear, a growing bulk of tenderest love.'" L _The Yaksha then begs the cloud to return with a message of comfort_. Console her patient heart, to breaking full In our first separation; having spoken, Fly from the mountain ploughed by Shiva's bull; Make strong with message and with tender token My life, so easily, like morning jasmines, broken. LI I hope, sweet friend, thou grantest all my suit, Nor read refusal in thy solemn air; When thirsty birds complain, thou givest mute The rain from heaven: such simple hearts are rare, Whose only answer is fulfilment of the prayer. LII _and dismisses him, with a prayer for his welfare_. Thus, though I pray unworthy, answer me For friendship's sake, or pity's, magnified By the sight of my distress; then wander free In rainy loveliness, and ne'er abide One moment's separation from thy lightning bride. * * * * * THE SEASONS _The Seasons_ is an unpretentious poem, describing in six short cantos the six seasons into which the Hindus divide the year. The title is perhaps a little misleading, as the description is not objective, but deals with the feelings awakened by each season in a pair of young lovers. Indeed, the poem might be called a Lover's Calendar. Kalidasa's authorship has been doubted, without very cogent argument. The question is not of much interest, as _The Seasons_ would neither add greatly to his reputation nor subtract from it. The whole poem contains one hundred and forty-four stanzas, or something less than six hundred lines of verse. There follow a few stanzas selected from each canto. SUMMER Pitiless heat from heaven pours By day, but nights are cool; Continual bathing gently lowers The water in the pool; The evening brings a charming peace: For summer-time is here When love that never knows surcease, Is less imperious, dear. Yet love can never fall asleep; For he is waked to-day By songs that all their sweetness keep And lutes that softly play, By fans with sandal-water wet That bring us drowsy rest, By strings of pearls that gently fret Full many a lovely breast. The sunbeams like the fires are hot That on the altar wake; The enmity is quite forgot Of peacock and of snake; The peacock spares his ancient foe, For pluck and hunger fail; He hides his burning head below The shadow of his tail. Beneath the garland of the rays That leave no corner cool, The water vanishes in haze And leaves a muddy pool; The cobra does not hunt for food Nor heed the frog at all Who finds beneath the serpent's hood A sheltering parasol. Dear maiden of the graceful song, To you may summer's power Bring moonbeams clear and garlands long And breath of trumpet-flower, Bring lakes that countless lilies dot, Refreshing water-sprays, Sweet friends at evening, and a spot Cool after burning days. THE RAINS The rain advances like a king In awful majesty; Hear, dearest, how his thunders ring Like royal drums, and see His lightning-banners wave; a cloud For elephant he rides, And finds his welcome from the crowd Of lovers and of brides. The clouds, a mighty army, march With drumlike thundering And stretch upon the rainbow's arch The lightning's flashing string; The cruel arrows of the rain Smite them who love, apart From whom they love, with stinging pain, And pierce them to the heart. The forest seems to show its glee In flowering nipa plants; In waving twigs of many a tree Wind-swept, it seems to dance; Its ketak-blossom's opening sheath Is like a smile put on To greet the rain's reviving breath, Now pain and heat are gone. To you, dear, may the cloudy time Bring all that you desire, Bring every pleasure, perfect, prime, To set a bride on fire; May rain whereby life wakes and shines Where there is power of life, The unchanging friend of clinging vines, Shower blessings on my wife. AUTUMN The autumn comes, a maiden fair In slenderness and grace, With nodding rice-stems in her hair And lilies in her face. In flowers of grasses she is clad; And as she moves along, Birds greet her with their cooing glad Like bracelets' tinkling song. A diadem adorns the night Of multitudinous stars; Her silken robe is white moonlight, Set free from cloudy bars; And on her face (the radiant moon) Bewitching smiles are shown: She seems a slender maid, who soon Will be a woman grown. Over the rice-fields, laden plants Are shivering to the breeze; While in his brisk caresses dance The blossom-burdened trees; He ruffles every lily-pond Where blossoms kiss and part, And stirs with lover's fancies fond The young man's eager heart. WINTER The bloom of tenderer flowers is past And lilies droop forlorn, For winter-time is come at last, Rich with its ripened corn; Yet for the wealth of blossoms lost Some hardier flowers appear That bid defiance to the frost Of sterner days, my dear. The vines, remembering summer, shiver In frosty winds, and gain A fuller life from mere endeavour To live through all that pain; Yet in the struggle and acquist They turn as pale and wan As lonely women who have missed Known love, now lost and gone. Then may these winter days show forth To you each known delight, Bring all that women count as worth Pure happiness and bright; While villages, with bustling cry, Bring home the ripened corn, And herons wheel through wintry sky, Forget sad thoughts forlorn. EARLY SPRING Now, dearest, lend a heedful ear And listen while I sing Delights to every maiden dear, The charms of early spring: When earth is dotted with the heaps Of corn, when heron-scream Is rare but sweet, when passion leaps And paints a livelier dream. When all must cheerfully applaud A blazing open fire; Or if they needs must go abroad, The sun is their desire; When everybody hopes to find The frosty chill allayed By garments warm, a window-blind Shut, and a sweet young maid. Then may the days of early spring For you be rich and full With love's proud, soft philandering And many a candy-pull, With sweetest rice and sugar-cane: And may you float above The absent grieving and the pain Of separated love. SPRING A stalwart soldier comes, the spring, Who bears the bow of Love; And on that bow, the lustrous string Is made of bees, that move With malice as they speed the shaft Of blossoming mango-flower At us, dear, who have never laughed At love, nor scorned his power. Their blossom-burden weights the trees; The winds in fragrance move; The lakes are bright with lotuses, The women bright with love; The days are soft, the evenings clear And charming; everything That moves and lives and blossoms, dear, Is sweeter in the spring. The groves are beautifully bright For many and many a mile With jasmine-flowers that are as white As loving woman's smile: The resolution of a saint Might well be tried by this; Far more, young hearts that fancies paint With dreams of loving bliss. * * * * * EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY By Ernest Rhys MADE AT THE TEMPLE PRESS LETCHWORTH IN GREAT BRITAIN Victor Hugo said a Library was "an act of faith," and some unknown essayist spoke of one so beautiful, so perfect, so harmonious in all its parts, that he who made it was smitten with a passion. In that faith the promoters of Everyman's Library planned it out originally on a large scale; and their idea in so doing was to make it conform as far as possible to a perfect scheme. However, perfection is a thing to be aimed at and not to be achieved in this difficult world; and since the first volumes appeared, now several years ago, there have been many interruptions. A great war has come and gone; and even the City of Books has felt something like a world commotion. Only in recent years is the series getting back into its old stride and looking forward to complete its original scheme of a Thousand Volumes. One of the practical expedients in that original plan was to divide the volumes into sections, as Biography, Fiction, History, Belles Lettres, Poetry, Romance, and so forth; with a compartment for young people, and last, and not least, one of Reference Books. Beside the dictionaries and encyclopædias to be expected in that section, there was a special set of literary and historical atlases. One of these atlases dealing with Europe, we may recall, was directly affected by the disturbance of frontiers during the war; and the maps had to be completely revised in consequence, so as to chart the New Europe which we hope will now preserve its peace under the auspices of the League of Nations set up at Geneva. That is only one small item, however, in a library list which runs already to the final centuries of the Thousand. The largest slice of this huge provision is, as a matter of course, given to the tyrannous demands of fiction. But in carrying out the scheme, publishers and editors contrived to keep in mind that books, like men and women, have their elective affinities. The present volume, for instance, will be found to have its companion books, both in the same section and even more significantly in other sections. With that idea too, novels like Walter Scott's _Ivanhoe_ and _Fortunes of Nigel_, Lytton's _Harold_ and Dickens's _Tale of Two Cities_, have been used as pioneers of history and treated as a sort of holiday history books. For in our day history is tending to grow more documentary and less literary; and "the historian who is a stylist," as one of our contributors, the late Thomas Seccombe, said, "will soon be regarded as a kind of Phoenix." But in this special department of Everyman's Library we have been eclectic enough to choose our history men from every school in turn. We have Grote, Gibbon, Finlay, Macaulay, Motley, Frescott. We have among earlier books the Venerable Bede and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, have completed a Livy in an admirable new translation by Canon Roberts, while Cæsar, Tacitus, Thucydides and Herodotus are not forgotten. "You only, O Books," said Richard de Bury, "are liberal and independent; you give to all who ask." The delightful variety, the wisdom and the wit which are at the disposal of Everyman in his own library may well, at times, seem to him a little embarrassing. He may turn to Dick Steele in _The Spectator_ and learn how Cleomira dances, when the elegance of her motion is unimaginable and "her eyes are chastised with the simplicity and innocence of her thoughts." He may turn to Plato's Phædrus and read how every soul is divided into three parts (like Cæsar's Gaul). He may turn to the finest critic of Victorian times, Matthew Arnold, and find in his essay on Maurice de Guerin the perfect key to what is there called the "magical power of poetry." It is Shakespeare, with his "daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty;" it is Wordsworth, with his "voice ... heard In spring-time from the cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides;" or Keats, with his ".... moving waters at their priest-like task Of cold ablution round Earth's human shores." William Hazlitt's "Table Talk," among the volumes of Essays, may help to show the relationship of one author to another, which is another form of the Friendship of Books. His incomparable essay in that volume, "On Going a Journey," forms a capital prelude to Coleridge's "Biographia Literaria" and to his and Wordsworth's poems. In the same way one may turn to the review of Moore's Life of Byron in Macaulay's _Essays_ as a prelude to the three volumes of Byron's own poems, remembering that the poet whom Europe loved more than England did was as Macaulay said: "the beginning, the middle and the end of all his own poetry." This brings us to the provoking reflection that it is the obvious authors and the books most easy to reprint which have been the signal successes out of the many hundreds in the series, for Everyman is distinctly proverbial in his tastes. He likes best of all an old author who has worn well or a comparatively new author who has gained something like newspaper notoriety. In attempting to lead him on from the good books that are known to those that are less known, the publishers may have at times been too adventurous. The late _Chief_ himself was much more than an ordinary book-producer in this critical enterprise. He threw himself into it with the zeal of a book-lover and indeed of one who, like Milton, thought that books might be as alive and productive as dragons' teeth, which, being "sown up and down the land, might chance to spring up armed men." Mr. Pepys in his _Diary_ writes about some of his books, "which are come home gilt on the backs, very handsome to the eye." The pleasure he took in them is that which Everyman may take in the gilt backs of his favourite books in his own Library, which after all he has helped to make good and lasting. * * * * * Abbott's Rollo at Work, etc., 275 Addison's Spectator, 164-167 Æschylus' Lyrical Dramas, 62 Æsop's and Other Fables, 657 Aimard's The Indian Scout, 428 Ainsworth's Tower of London, 400 " Old St. Paul's, 522 " Windsor Castle, 709 " The Admirable Crichton, 804 A'Kempis' Imitation of Christ, 484 Alcott's Little Women, and Good Wives, 248 " Little Men, 512 Alpine Club. Peaks, Passes and Glaciers, 778 Andersen's Fairy Tales, 4 Anglo-Saxon Poetry, 794 Anson's Voyages, 510 Aristophanes' The Acharnians, etc., 344 " The Frogs, etc., 516 Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, 547 " Politics, 605 Arnold's (Matthew) Essays, 115 " Poems, 334 " Study of Celtic Literature, etc., 458 Augustine's (Saint) Confessions, 200 Aurelius' (Marcus) Golden Book, 9 Austen's (Jane) Sense and Sensibility, 21 " Pride and Prejudice, 22 " Mansfield Park, 23 " Emma, 24 " Northanger Abbey, and Persuasion, 25 Bacon's Essays, 10 " Advancement of Learning, 719 Bagehot's Literary Studies, 520, 521 Baker's (Sir S.W.) Cast up by the Sea, 539 Ballantyne's Coral Island, 245 " Martin Rattler, 246 " Ungava, 276 Balzac's Wild Ass's Skin, 26 " Eugénie Grandet, 169 " Old Goriot, 170 " Atheist's Mass, etc., 229 " Christ in Flanders, etc., 284 " The Chouans, 285 " Quest of the Absolute, 286 " Cat and Racket, etc., 349 " Catherine de Medici, 419 " Cousin Pons, 463 " The Country Doctor, 530 " Rise and Fall of César Birotteau, 596 " Lost Illusions, 656 " The Country Parson, 686 " Ursule Mirouët, 733 Barbusse's Under Fire, 798 Barca's (Mme. C. de la) Life in Mexico, 664 Bates' Naturalist on the Amazons, 446 Beaumont and Fletcher's Select Plays, 506 Beaumont's (Mary) Joan Seaton, 597 Bede's Ecclesiastical History, etc., 479 Belt's The Naturalist in Nicaragua, 561 Berkeley's (Bishop) Principles of Human Knowledge, New Theory of Vision, etc., 483 Berlioz (Hector), Life of, 602 Binns' Life of Abraham Lincoln, 783 Björnson's Plays, 625, 696 Blackmore's Lorna Doone, 304 " Springhaven, 350 Blackwell's Pioneer Work for Women, 667 Blake's Poems and Prophecies, 792 Boehme's The Signature of All Things, etc., 569 Bonaventura's The Little Flowers, The Life of St. Francis, etc., 485 Borrow's Wild Wales, 49 " Lavengro, 119 " Romany Rye, 120 " Bible in Spain, 151 " Gypsies in Spain, 697 Boswell's Life of Johnson, 1, 2 " Tour in the Hebrides, etc., 387 Boult's Asgard and Norse Heroes, 689 Boyle's The Sceptical Chymist, 559 Bright's (John) Speeches, 252 Brontë's (A.) The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, 685 Brontë's (C.) Jane Eyre, 287 " Shirley, 288 " Villette, 351 " The Professor, 417 Brontë's (E.) Wuthering Heights, 243 Brooke's (Stopford A.) Theology in the English Poets, 493 Brown's (Dr. John) Rab and His Friends, etc., 116 Browne's (Frances) Grannie's Wonderful Chair, 112 Browne's (Sir Thos.) Religio Medici, etc., 92 Browning's Poems, 1833-1844, 41 " " 1844-1864, 42 " The Ring and the Book, 502 Buchanan's Life and Adventures of Audubon, 601 Bulfinch's The Age of Fable, 472 " Legends of Charlemagne, 556 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, 204 Burke's American Speeches and Letters, 340 " Reflections on the French Revolution, etc., 460 Burnet's History of His Own Times, 85 Burney's Evelina, 352 Burns' Poems and Songs, 94 Burrell's Volume of Heroic Verse, 574 Burton's East Africa, 500 Butler's Analogy of Religion, 90 Buxton's Memoirs, 773 Byron's Complete Poetical and Dramatic Works, 486-488 Cæsar's Gallic War, etc., 702 Canton's Child's Book of Saints, 61 " Invisible Playmate, etc., 566 Carlyle's French Revolution, 31, 32 " Letters, etc., of Cromwell, 266-268 " Sartor Resartus, 278 " Past and Present, 608 " Essays, 703, 704 Cellini's Autobiography, 51 Cervantes' Don Quixote, 385, 386 Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, 307 Chrétien de Troyes' Eric and Enid, 698 Cibber's Apology for his Life, 668 Cicero's Select Letters and Orations, 345 Clarke's Tales from Chaucer, 537 " Shakespeare's Heroines, 109-111 Cobbett's Rural Rides, 638, 639 Coleridge's Biographia, 11 " Golden Book, 43 " Lectures on Shakespeare, 162 Collins' Woman in White, 464 Collodi's Pinocchio, 538 Converse's Long Will, 328 Cook's Voyages, 99 Cooper's The Deerslayer, 77 " The Pathfinder, 78 " Last of the Mohicans, 79 " The Pioneer, 171 " The Prairie, 172 Cousin's Biographical Dictionary of English Literature, 449 Cowper's Letters, 774 Cox's Tales of Ancient Greece, 721 Craik's Manual of English Literature, 346 Craik (Mrs.). _See_ Mulock. Creasy's Fifteen Decisive Battles, 300 Crèvecoeur's Letters from an American Farmer, 640 Curtis's Prue and I, and Lotus, 418 Dana's Two Years Before the Mast, 588 Dante's Divine Comedy, 308 Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle, 104 Dasent's The Story of Burnt Njal, 558 Daudet's Tartarin of Tarascon, 423 Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, 59 " Captain Singleton, 74 " Memoirs of a Cavalier, 283 " Journal of Plague, 289 De Joinville's Memoirs of the Crusades, 333 Demosthenes' Select Orations, 546 Dennis' Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, 183, 184 De Quincey's Lake Poets, 163 " Opium-Eater, 223 " English Mail Coach, etc., 609 De Retz (Cardinal), Memoirs of, 735, 736 Descartes' Discourse on Method, 570 Dickens' Barnaby Rudge, 76 " Tale of Two Cities, 102 " Old Curiosity Shop, 173 " Oliver Twist, 233 " Great Expectations, 234 " Pickwick Papers, 235 " Bleak House, 236 " Sketches by Boz, 237 " Nicholas Nickleby, 238 " Christmas Books, 239 " Dombey & Son, 240 " Martin Chuzzlewit, 241 " David Copperfield, 242 " American Notes, 290 " Child's History of England, 291 " Hard Times, 292 " Little Dorrit, 293 " Our Mutual Friend, 294 " Christmas Stories, 414 " Uncommercial Traveller, 536 " Edwin Drood, 725 " Reprinted Pieces, 744 Disraeli's Coningsby, 635 Dixon's Fairy Tales from Arabian Nights, 249 Dodge's Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates, 620 Dostoieffsky's Crime and Punishment, 501 " The House of the Dead, or Prison Life in Siberia, 533 " Letters from the Underworld, etc., 654 " The Idiot, 682 " Poor Folk, and The Gambler, 711 " The Brothers Karamazov, 802, 803 Dowden's Life of R. Browning, 701 Dryden's Dramatic Essays, 568 Dufferin's Letters from High Latitudes, 499 Dumas' The Three Musketeers, 81 " The Black Tulip, 174 Dumas' Twenty Years After, 175 " Marguerite de Valois, 326 " The Count of Monte Cristo, 393, 394 " The Forty-Five, 420 " Chicot the Jester, 421 " Vicomte de Bragelonne, 593-595 " Le Chevalier de Maison Rouge, 614 Duruy's History of France, 737, 738 Edgar's Cressy and Poictiers, 17 " Runnymede and Lincoln Fair, 320 " Heroes of England, 471 Edgeworth's Castle Rackrent, etc., 410 Edwardes' Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology, 632 Eliot's Adam Bede, 27 " Silas Marner, 121 " Romola, 231 " Mill on the Floss, 325 " Felix Holt, 353 " Scenes of Clerical Life, 468 Elyot's Governour, 227 Emerson's Essays, 12 " Representative Men, 279 " Nature, Conduct of Life, etc., 322 " Society and Solitude, etc., 567 " Poems, 715 Epictetus' Moral Discourses, etc., 404 Erckmann--Chatrian's The Conscript and Waterloo, 354 " Story of a Peasant, 706, 707 Euripides' Plays, 63, 271 Evelyn's Diary, 220, 221 Ewing's (Mrs.) Mrs. Overtheway's Remembrances, and other Stories, 730 " Jackanapes, Daddy Darwin's Dovecot, and The Story of a Short Life, 731 Faraday's Experimental Researches in Electricity, 576 Fielding's Tom Jones, 355, 356 " Joseph Andrews, 467 Finlay's Byzantine Empire, 33 " Greece under the Romans, 185 Fletcher's (Beaumont and) Select Plays, 506 Ford's Gatherings from Spain, 152 Forster's Life of Dickens, 781, 782 Fox's Journal, 754 Fox's Selected Speeches, 759 Franklin's Journey to Polar Sea, 447 Freeman's Old English History for Children, 540 Froissart's Chronicles, 57 Fronde's Short Studies, 13, 705 " Henry VIII., 372-374 " Edward VI., 375 " Mary Tudor, 477 " History of Queen Elizabeth's Reign, 583-587 " Life of Benjamin Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield, 666 Gait's Annals of the Parish, 427 Galton's Inquiries into Human Faculty, 263 Gaskell's Cranford, 83 " Charlotte Brontë, 318 " Sylvia's Lovers, 524 " Mary Barton, 598 " Cousin Phillis, etc., 615 " North and South, 680 Gatty's Parables from Nature, 158 Geoffrey of Monmouth's Histories of the Kings of Britain, 577 George's Progress and Poverty, 560 Gibbon's Roman Empire, 434-436, 474-476 " Autobiography, 511 Gilfillian's Literary Portraits, 348 Giraldus Cambrensis, 272 Gleig's Life of Wellington, 341 " The Subaltern, 708 Goethe's Faust (Parts I. and II.), 335 " Wilhelm Meister, 599, 600 Gogol's Dead Souls, 726 " Taras Bulba, 740 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield, 295 " Poems and Plays, 415 Gorki's Through Russia, 741 Gosse's Restoration Plays, 604 Gotthelf's Ulric the Farm Servant, 228 Gray's Poems and Letters, 628 Green's Short History of the English People, 727, 728 The cloth edition is in 2 vols. or 1 vol. All other editions are in 1 vol. Grimms' Fairy Tales, 56 Grote's History of Greece, 186-197 Guest's (Lady) Mabinogion, 97 Hahnemann's The Organon of the Rational Art of Healing, 663 Hakluyt's Voyages, 264, 265, 313, 314, 338, 339, 388, 389 Hallam's Constitutional History, 621-623 Hamilton's The Federalist, 519 Harte's Luck of Roaring Camp, 681 Harvey's Circulation of Blood, 262 Hawthorne's Wonder Book, 5 " The Scarlet Letter, 122 " House of Seven Gables, 176 " The Marble Faun, 424 " Twice Told Tales, 531 " Blithedale Romance, 592 Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Characters, 65 " Table Talk, 321 " Lectures, 411 " Spirit of the Age and Lectures on English Poets, 459 Hebbel's Plays, 694 Helps' (Sir Arthur) Life of Columbus, 332 Herbert's Temple, 309 Herodotus (Rawlinson's), 405, 406 Herrick's Hesperides, 310 Hobbes' Leviathan, 691 Holinshed's Chronicle, 800 Holmes' Life of Mozart, 564 Holmes' (O.W.) Autocrat, 66 " Professor, 67 " Poet, 68 Homer's Iliad, 453 " Odyssey, 454 Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, 201, 202 Horace's Complete Poetical Works, 515 Houghton's Life and Letters of Keats, 801 Hughes' Tom Brown's Schooldays, 58 Hugo's (Victor) Les Misérables, 363, 364 " Notre Dame, 422 " Toilers of the Sea, 509 Hume's Treatise of Human Nature, etc., 548, 549 Hutchinson's (Col.) Memoirs, 317 Hutchinson's (W.M.L.) Muses' Pageant, 581, 606, 671 Huxley's Man's Place in Nature, 47 " Select Lectures and Lay Sermons, 498 Ibsen's The Doll's House, etc., 494 " Ghosts, etc., 552 " Pretenders, Pillars of Society, etc., 659 " Brand, 716 " Lady Inger, etc., 729 " Peer Gynt, 747 Ingelow's Mopsa the Fairy, 619 Ingram's Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 624 Irving's Sketch Book, 117 " Conquest of Granada, 478 " Life of Mahomet, 513 James' (G.P.R.) Richelieu, 357 James (Wm.), Selections from, 739 Johnson's (Dr.) Lives of the Poets, 770-771 Johnson's (R.B.) Book of English Ballads, 572 Jonson's (Ben) Plays, 489, 490 Josephus' Wars of the Jews, 712 Kalidasa's Shakuntala, 629 Keats' Poems, 101 Keble's Christian Year, 690 King's Life of Mazzini, 562 Kinglake's Eothen, 337 Kingsley's (Chas.) Westward Ho! 20 " Heroes, 113 " Hypatia, 230 " Water Babies and Glaucus, 277 " Hereward the Wake, 296 " Alton Locke, 462 " Yeast, 611 " Madam How and Lady Why, 777 " Poems, 793 Kingsley's (Henry) Ravenshoe, 28 " Geoffrey Hamlyn, 416 Kingston's Peter the Whaler, 6 " Three Midshipmen, 7 Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare, 8 " Essays of Elia, 14 " Letters, 342, 343 Lane's Modern Egyptians, 315 Langland's Piers Plowman, 571 Latimer's Sermons, 40 Law's Serious Call, 91 Layamon's (Wace and) Arthurian Chronicles, 578 Lear (and others), A Book of Nonsense, 806 Le Sage's Gil Blas, 437, 438 Leslie's Memoirs of John Constable, 563 Lever's Harry Lorrequer, 177 Lewes' Life of Goethe, 269 Lincoln's Speeches, etc., 206 Livy's History of Rome, 603, 669, 670, 749, 755, 756 Locke's Civil Government, 751 Lockhart's Life of Napoleon, 3 " Life of Scott, 55 " Burns, 156 Longfellow's Poems, 382 Lönnrott's Kalevala, 259, 260 Lover's Handy Andy, 178 Lowell's Among My Books, 607 Lucretius: Of the Nature of Things, 750 Lützow's History of Bohemia, 432 Lyell's Antiquity of Man, 700 Lytton's Harold, 15 " Last of the Barons, 18 " Last Days of Pompeii, 80 " Pilgrims of the Rhine, 390 " Rienzi, 532 Macaulay's England, 34-36 " Essays, 225, 226 " Speeches on Politics, etc., 399 " Miscellaneous Essays, 439 MacDonald's Sir Gibbie, 678 " Phantastes, 732 Machiavelli's Prince, 280 " Florence, 376 Maine's Ancient Law, 734 Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur, 45, 46 Malthus on the Principles of Population, 692, 693 Manning's Sir Thomas More, 19 " Mary Powell, and Deborah's Diary, 324 Marcus Aurelius' Golden Book, 9 Marlowe's Plays and Poems, 383 Marryat's Mr. Midshipman Easy, 82 " Little Savage, 159 " Masterman Ready, 160 " Peter Simple, 232 " Children of New Forest, 247 " Percival Keene, 358 " Settlers in Canada, 370 " King's Own, 580 " Jacob Faithful, 618 Martineau's Feats on the Fjords, 429 Martinengo-Cesaresco's Folk-Lore and Other Essays, 673 Maurice's Kingdom of Christ, 146, 147 Mazzini's Duties of Man, etc., 224 Melville's Moby Dick, 179 " Typee, 180 " Omoo, 297 Merivale's History of Rome, 433 Mignet's French Revolution, 713 Mill's Utilitarianism, Liberty, Representative Government, 482 Miller's Old Red Sandstone, 103 Milman's History of the Jews, 377, 378 Milton's Areopagitica and other Prose Works, 795 Milton's Poems, 384 Mommsen's History of Rome, 542-545 Montagu's (Lady) Letters, 69 Montaigne, Florio's, 440-442 More's Utopia, and Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation, 461 Morier's Hajji Baba, 679 Morris' (Wm.) Early Romances, 261 " Life and Death of Jason, 575 Motley's Dutch Republic, 86-88 Mulock's John Halifax, 123 Neale's Fall of Constantinople, 655 Newcastle's (Margaret, Duchess of) Life of the First Duke of Newcastle, etc., 722 Newman's Apologia Pro Vita Sua, 636 " On the Scope and Nature of University Education, and a Paper on Christianity and Scientific Investigation, 723 Oliphant's Salem Chapel, 244 Osborne (Dorothy), Letters of, 674 Owen's A New View of Society, etc., 799 Paine's Rights of Man, 718 Palgrave's Golden Treasury, 96 Paltock's Peter Wilkins, 676 Park (Mungo), Travels of, 205 Parkman's Conspiracy of Pontiac, 302, 303 Parry's Letters of Dorothy Osborne, 674 Paston's Letters, 752, 753 Paton's Two Morte D'Arthur Romances, 634 Peacock's Headlong Hall, 327 Penn's The Peace of Europe, Some Fruits of Solitude, etc., 724 Pepys' Diary, 53, 54 Percy's Reliques, 148, 149 Pitt's Orations, 145 Plato's Republic, 64 " Dialogues, 456, 457 Plutarch's Lives, 407-409 " Moralia, 565 Poe's Tales of Mystery and Imagination, 336 " Poems and Essays, 791 Polo's (Marco) Travels, 306 Pope's Complete Poetical Works, 760 Prelude to Poetry, 789 Prescott's Conquest of Peru, 301 Conquest of Mexico, 397, 398 Procter's Legends and Lyrics, 150 Rawlinson's Herodotus, 405, 406 Reade's The Cloister and the Hearth, 29 " Peg Woffington, 299 Reid's (Mayne) Boy Hunters of the Mississippi, 582 Reid's (Mayne) The Boy Slaves, 797 Renan's Life of Jesus, 805 Reynolds' Discourses, 118 Rhys' Fairy Gold, 157 " New Golden Treasury, 695 " Anthology of British Hitstorical Speeches and Orations, 714 " Political Liberty, 745 " Golden Treasury of Longer Poems, 746 Ricardo's Principles of Political Economy and Taxation, 590 Richardson's Pamela, 683, 684 Roberts' (Morley) Western Avernus, 762 Robertson's Religion and Life, 37 " Christian Doctrine, 38 " Bible Subjects, 39 Robinson's (Wade) Sermons, 637 Roget's Thesaurus, 630, 631 Rossetti's (D.G.) Poems, 627 Rousseau's Emile, on Education, 518 " Social Contract and Other Essays, 660 Ruskin's Seven Lamps of Architecture, 207 " Modern Painters, 208-212 " Stones of Venice, 213-215 " Unto this Last, etc., 216 " Elements of Drawing, etc., 217 " Pre-Raphaelitism, etc., 218 " Sesame and Lilies, 219 Ruskin's Ethics of the Dust, 282 " Crown of Wild Olive, and Cestus of Aglaia, 323 " Time and Tide, with other Essays, 450 " The Two Boyhoods, 688 Russell's Life of Gladstone, 661 Russian Short Stories, 758 Sand's (George) The Devil's Pool, and François the Waif, 534 Scheffel's Ekkehard: A Tale of the 10th Century, 529 Scott's (M.) Tom Cringle's Log, 710 Scott's (Sir W.) Ivanhoe, 16 " Fortunes of Nigel, 71 " Woodstock, 72 " Waverley, 75 " The Abbot, 124 " Anne of Geierstein, 125 " The Antiquary, 126 " Highland Widow, and Betrothed, 127 " Black Dwarf, Legend of Montrose, 123 " Bride of Lammermoor, 129 " Castle Dangerous, Surgeon's Daughter, 130 " Robert of Paris, 131 " Fair Maid of Perth, 132 " Guy Mannering, 133 " Heart of Midlothian, 134 " Kenilworth, 135 " The Monastery, 136 " Old Mortality, 137 " Peveril of the Peak, 138 " The Pirate, 139 " Quentin Durward, 140 " Redgauntlet, 141 " Rob Roy, 142 " St. Ronan's Well, 143 " The Talisman, 144 " Lives of the Novelists, 331 " Poems and Plays, 550, 551 Seebohm's Oxford Reformers, 665 Seeley's Ecce Homo, 305 Sewell's (Anna) Black Beauty, 748 Shakespeare's Comedies, 153 " Histories, etc., 154 " Tragedies, 155 Shelley's Poetical Works, 257, 258 Shelley's (Mrs.) Frankenstein, 616 Sheppard's Charles Auchester, 505 Sheridan's Plays, 95 Sismondi's Italian Republics, 250 Smeaton's Life of Shakespeare, 514 Smith's A Dictionary of Dates, 554 Smith's Wealth of Nations, 412, 413 Smith's (George) Life of Wm. Carey, 395 Smith's (Sir Wm.) Smaller Classical Dictionary, 495 Smollett's Roderick Random, 790 Sophocles, Young's, 114 Southey's Life of Nelson, 52 Speke's Source of the Nile, 50 Spence's Dictionary of Non-Classical Mythology, 632 Spencer's (Herbert) Essays on Education, 504 Spenser's Faerie Queene, 443, 444 Spinoza's Ethics, etc., 481 Spyri's Heidi, 431 Stanley's Memorials of Canterbury, 89 " Eastern Church, 251 Steele's The Spectator, 164-167 Sterne's Tristram Shandy, 617 " Sentimental Journey and Journal to Eliza, 796 Stevenson's Treasure Island and Kidnapped, 763 " Master of Ballantrae and the Black Arrow, 764 " Virginibus Puerisque and Familiar Studies of Men and Books, 765 " An Inland Voyage, Travels with a Donkey, and Silverado Squatters, 766 " Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Merry Men, etc., 767 " Poems, 768 " In the South Seas and Island Nights' Entertainments, 769 St. Francis, The Little Flowers of, etc., 485 Stopford Brooke's Theology in the English Poets, 493 Stow's Survey of London, 589 Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin, 371 Strickland's Queen Elizabeth, 100 Swedenborg's Heaven and Hell, 379 " Divine Love and Wisdom, 635 " Divine Providence, 658 Swift's Gulliver's Travels, 60 " Journal to Stella, 757 " Tale of a Tub, etc., 347 Tacitus' Annals, 273 " Agricola and Germania, 274 Taylor's Words and Places, 517 Tennyson's Poems, 44, 626 Thackeray's Esmond, 73 " Vanity Fair, 298 " Christmas Books, 359 " Pendennis, 425, 426 " Newcomes, 465, 466 " The Virginians, 507, 508 " English Humorists, and The Four Georges, 610 " Roundabout Papers, 687 Thierry's Norman Conquest, 198, 199 Thoreau's Walden, 281 Thucydides' Peloponnesian War, 455 Tolstoy's Master and Man, and Other Parables and Tales, 469 " War and Peace, 525-527 " Childhood, Boyhood and Youth, 591 " Anna Karenina, 612, 613 Trench's On the Study of Words and English Past and Present, 788 Trollope's Barchester Towers, 30 " Framley Parsonage, 181 " Golden Lion of Granpere, 761 " The Warden, 182 " Dr. Thorne, 360 " Small House at Allington, 361 " Last Chronicles of Barset, 391, 392 Trotter's The Bayard of India, 396 " Hodson, of Hodson's Horse, 401 " Warren Hastings, 452 Turgeniev's Virgin Soil, 528 " Liza, 677 " Fathers and Sons, 742 Tyndall's Glaciers of the Alps, 98 Tytler's Principles of Translation, 168 Vasari's Lives of the Painters, 784-7 Verne's (Jules) Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, 319 " Dropped from the Clouds, 367 " Abandoned, 368 " The Secret of the Island, 369 " Five Weeks in a Balloon and Around the World in Eighty Days, 779 Virgil's Aeneid, 161 " Eclogues and Georgics, 222 Voltaire's Life of Charles XII., 270 " Age of Louis XIV., 780 Wace and Layamon's Arthurian Chronicles, 578 Walpole's Letters, 775 Walton's Compleat Angler, 70 Waterton's Wanderings in South America, 772 Wesley's Journal, 105-108 White's Selborne, 48 Whitman's Leaves of Grass (I.) and Democratic Vistas, etc., 573 Whyte-Melville's Gladiators, 523 Wood's (Mrs. Henry) The Channings, 84 Woolman's Journal, etc., 402 Wordsworth's Shorter Poems, 203 " Longer Poems, 311 Wright's An Encyclopædia of Gardening, 555 Xenophon's Cyropaedia, 672 Yonge's The Dove in the Eagle's Nest, 329 " The Book of Golden Deeds, 330 " The Heir of Redclyffe, 362 " The Little Duke, 470 " The Lances of Lynwood, 579 Young's (Arthur) Travels in France and Italy, 720 Young's (Sir George) Sophocles, 114 The New Testament, 93. Ancient Hebrew Literature, 4 vols., 253-256. English Short Stories. An Anthology, 143. Everyman's English Dictionary, 776 
18285	----	TALES FROM THE HINDU DRAMATISTS. BY R. N. DUTTA, B.A., B.L., _Late Officiating Head-Master, Metropolitan Institution, Bowbazar Branch, Calcutta;_ AUTHOR OF "THE BOY'S RAMAYANA." REVISED BY J. S. ZEMIN, _Professor of English Literature, Bishop's College, and Central College, Calcutta; Late Principal, Doveton College, Calcutta; Hon. Fellow and Examiner, University of Calcutta_. Calcutta. B. BANERJEE & Co., 26, Cornwallis Street, and 54, College Street. 1912. [_All Rights Reserved._] Ans. 12. CALCUTTA, PRINTED BY K.C. DATTA AT THE VICTORIA PRINTING WORKS 203/2 CORNWALLIS STREET. PUBLISHED BY B. BANERJEE & Co., 25, Cornwallis Street, and 54, College Street. To The Hon'ble Sir Justice ASHUTOSH MOOKERJEE, SARASWATI, Kt. C.S.I., M.A., D.L., D.S.C., F.R.A.S., F.R.S.E. _Vice-Chancellor of the University of CALCUTTA._ THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED as a sincere token of the esteem and admiration of the AUTHOR for his eminent services to the cause of the ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: There are some inconsistencies in spelling and| |punctuation which have been left as the original. | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ PREFACE. Many educationists think that our Indian boys should be encouraged to read the stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, the two great Epics of India and Tales from the Sanskrit Dramatists when they are recommended to read "The Boy's Odyssey," "Legends of Greece and Rome," "Arabian Nights' Tales" and Lamb's "Tales from Shakespeare." It was perhaps from this view of the matter that the University of Calcutta recommended "The Boy's Ramayana" and "Tales from the Hindu Dramatists" for the Matriculation Examination. As no books were published in time, the University had to issue an amended notice omitting the books from the list. To supply the want, I have ventured to write the "Boy's Ramayana" and this humble book. I have tried my best to narrate briefly, in simple and idiomatic English, the stories on which the chief Sanskrit dramas are based. I hope that the University will be pleased to re-insert "The Boy's Ramayana" and this book in the list of books recommended for the Matriculation Examination. BALARAMADHAM, } 4, Madan Mitter's Lane, } RAMA NATH DUTT. Calcutta } _1911--December._ } TALES FROM THE HINDU DRAMATISTS. SAKUNTALA OR THE LOST RING. In ancient days, there was a mighty king of the Lunar dynasty by name Dushyanta. He was the king of Hastinapur. He once goes out a-hunting and in the pursuit of a deer comes near the hermitage of the sage Kanwa, the chief of the hermits, where some anchorites request him not to kill the deer. The king feels thirsty and was seeking water when he saw certain maidens of the hermits watering the favourite plants. One of them, an exquisitely beautiful and bashful maiden, named Sakuntala, received him. She was the daughter of the celestial nymph Menaka by the celebrated sage Viswamitra and foster-child of the hermit Kanwa. She is smitten with love at the first sight of the king, standing confused at the change of her own feeling. The love at first sight which the king conceives for her is of too deep a nature to be momentary. Struck by her beauty he exclaims:-- "Her lip is ruddy as an opening bud; her graceful arms resemble tender shoots; attractive as the bloom upon the tree, the glow of youth is spread on all her limbs." Seizing an opportunity of addressing her, he soon feels that it is impossible for him to return to his capital. His limbs move forward, while his heart flies back, like a silken standard borne against the breeze. He seeks for opportunities for seeing her. With the thought about her haunting him by day and night, he finds no rest, and no pleasure even in his favourite recreation--sporting. Mathavya, the jester, friend and companion of the king, however, breaks the dull monotony of his anxious time. The opportunity which the king seeks offers itself. The hermits send an embassy to the king asking him to come over to the hermitage to guard their sacrifices. As he was making preparations for departure to the hermitage, Karavaka, a messenger from the queen-mother, arrives asking his presence at the city of Hastinapur. He is at first at a loss to extricate himself from this difficulty but a thought strikes him and he acts upon it. He sends the jester as his substitute to the city. He is now at leisure to seek out the love-sick Sakuntala who is drooping on account of her love for the king and is discovered lying on a bed of flowers in an arbour. He comes to the hermitage, overhears her conversation with her two friends, shows himself and offers to wed her. For a second time, the lovers thus meet. He enquires of her parentage to see if there is any obstacle to their being united in marriage; whereupon Sakuntala asks her companion Priyambada to satisfy the king with an account of her birth. The king hearing the story of her birth asks the companion to get the consent of Sakuntala to be married to him according to the form known as _gandharva_. Sakuntala requests the king to wait till her foster-father Kanwa, who had gone out on a pilgrimage, would come back and give his consent. But the king, becoming importunate, she at last gives her consent. They are married according to the _gandharva_ form, on the condition that the issue of the marriage should occupy the throne of Hastinapur. She accepts from her lord a marriage-ring as the token of recognition. The king then goes away, after having promised to shortly send his ministers and army to escort her to his Capital. When Kanwa returns to the hermitage, he becomes aware of what has transpired during his absence by his spiritual powers, and congratulates Sakuntala on having chosen a husband worthy of her in every respect. Next day, when Sakuntala is deeply absorbed in thoughts about her absent lord, the celebrated choleric sage Durvasa comes and demands the rights of hospitality. But he is not greeted with due courtesy by Sakuntala owing to her pre-occupied state. Upon this, the ascetic pronounces a curse that he whose thought has led her to forget her duties towards guests, would disown her. Sakuntala does not hear it, but Priyambada hears it and by entreaties appeases the wrath of the sage, who being conciliated ordains that the curse would cease at the sight of some ornament of recognition. Sakuntala becomes quick with child and in the seventh month of her pregnancy is sent by her foster-father to Hastinapur, in the company of her sister Gautami, and his two disciples Sarngarva and Saradwata. Priyambada stays in the hermitage. Sakuntala takes leave of the sacred grove in which she has been brought up, of her flowers, her gazelles and her friends. The aged hermit of the grove thus expresses his feelings at the approaching loss of Sakuntala:-- "My heart is touched with sadness at the thought, "Sakuntala must go to-day"; my throat is choked with flow of tears repressed; my sight is dimmed with pensiveness but if the grief of an old forest hermit is so great, how keen must be the pang a father feels when freshly parted from a cherished child!" Then he calls upon the trees to give her a kindly farewell. They answer with the Kokila's melodious cry. Thereupon the following good wishes are uttered by voices in the air:-- "Thy journey be auspicious; may the breeze, gentle and soothing, fan the cheek; may lakes, all bright with lily cups, delight thine eyes; the sun-beam's heat be cooled by shady trees; the dust beneath thy feet be the pollen of lotuses." On their way, Sakuntala and her companions bathe in the Prachi Saraswati, when, as Fate would have it, she carelessly drops the ring of recognition into the river, being unaware of the fact at the time. At last they arrive at Hastinapur, and send words to the king. The king asks his family priest Somarata to enquire of them the cause of their coming. Whereupon the priest meets them at the gate, knows the objects of their coming and informs the king of it. The curse of Durvasa does its work. The king denies Sakuntala. At the intercession of the priest, she and her companions are brought before the king. The king publicly repudiates her. As a last resource, Sakuntala bethinks herself of the ring given her by her husband, but on discovering that it is lost, abandons hope. Sarnagarva sharply remonstrates against the conduct of the king and presses the claim of Sakuntala. Gentle and meek as Sakuntala is, she undauntedly gives vent to her moral indignation against the king. The disciples go away saying that the king would have to repent of it. Sakuntala falls senseless on the ground. After a while, she revives, the priest then comes forward and asks the king to allow her to stay in his palace till her delivery. The king consents, and when Sakuntala is following the priest, Menaka with her irradiant form appears and taking hold of her daughter vanishes and goes to a celestial asylum. Everyone present there is astonished and frightened. After this incident, one day while the king is out on inspection, a certain fisherman, charged with the theft of the royal signet-ring which he professes to have found inside a fish, is dragged along by constables before the king who, however, causes the poor accused to be set free, rewarding him handsomely for his find. Recollection of his former love now returns to him. His strong and passionate love for Sakuntala surges upon him with doubled and redoubled-force. Indulging in sorrow at his repudiation of Sakuntala, the king passes three long years; at the end of which Matali, Indra's charioteer, appears to ask the king's aid in vanquishing the demons. He makes his aerial voyage in Indra's car. While he is coming back from the realm of Indra, he alights on the hermitage of Maricha. Here he sees a young boy tormenting a lion-whelp. Taking his hand, without knowing him to be his own son, he exclaims:--"If now the touch of but a stranger's child thus sends a thrill of joy through all my limbs, what transports must be awakened in the soul of that blest father from whose loins he sprang!" From the vaunting speeches of the boy, the king gathers that the boy is a scion of the race of Puru. His heart everflows with affection for him. A collection of circumstantial evidence points the boy to be his son. The amulet on the boy indicates his parentage. But while he is in a doubtful mood as to the parentage of the refractory boy, he meets the sage Maricha from whom he learns everything. The name of the boy is Sarvadamana, afterwards known as Bharata, the most famous king of the Lunar race, whose authority is said to have extended over a great part of India, and from whom India is to this day called Bharata or Bharatavarsa (the country or domain of Bharata.) Soon after, he finds and recognises Sakuntala, with whom he is at length happily re-united. VIKRAMORVASI OR URVASI WON BY VALOUR OR THE HERO AND THE NYMPH. In the Himalaya mountains, the nymphs of heaven, on returning from an assembly of the gods, are mourning over the loss of Urvasi, a fellow-nymph, who has been carried off by a demon. King Pururavas enters on his chariot, and on hearing the cause of their grief, hastens to the rescue of the nymph. He soon returns, after having vanquished the robber, and restores Urvasi to her heavenly companions. While carrying the nymph back to her friends in his chariot, he is enraptured by her beauty, falls in love with her and she with her deliverer. Urvasi being summoned before the throne of Indra, the lovers are soon obliged to part. When they part, Urvasi wishes to turn round once more to see the king. She pretends that a straggling vine has caught her garland, and while feigning to disengage herself, she calls one of her friends to help her. The friend replies:-- "I fear, this is no easy task. You seem entangled too fast to be set free: but, come what may, defend upon my friendship." The eyes of the king then meet those of Urvasi. They now part. The king is now at Prayag, the modern Allahabad, his residence. He walks in the garden of his palace, accompanied by a Brahman who is his confidential companion, and knows his love for Urvasi. The companion is so afraid of betraying what must remain a secret to everybody at court, and in particular to the queen, that he hides himself in a retired temple. There a female servant of the queen discovers him, and 'as a secret can no more rest in his breast than morning dew upon the grass,' she soon finds out from him why the king is so changed, since his return from the battle with the demon, and carries the tale to the queen. In the meantime, the king is in despair, and pours out his grief. Urvasi also is sighing for him. She suddenly descends with her friend through the air to meet him. Both are at first invisible to him, and listen to his confession of love. Then Urvasi writes a verse on a birch-leaf, and lets it fall near the bower where her beloved reclines. Next, her friend becomes visible, and at last, Urvasi herself is introduced to the king. After a few moments, however, both Urvasi and her friend are called back by a messenger of the gods, and the king is left alone with his jester. He looks for the leaf on which Urvasi had first disclosed her love, but it is lost, carried away by the wind. But worse than this the leaf is picked up by the queen, who comes to look for the king in the garden. The queen severely upbraids her husband, and, after a while, goes off in a hurry, like a river in the rainy season. When Urvasi was recalled to Indra's heaven, she had to act before Indra the part of the goddess of beauty, who selects Vishnu for her husband. One of the names of Vishnu is Purushottama. Poor Urvasi, when called upon to confess on whom her heart was set, forgetting the part she had to act, says "I love Pururavas," instead of "I love Purushottama." Her teacher Bharata, the author of the play, is so much exasperated by this mistake, that he pronounces a curse upon Urvasi. "You must lose your divine knowledge." After the close of the performance, Indra, observing her as she stood apart, ashamed and disconsolate, calls her and says:-- "The mortal, who engrosses your thoughts, has been my friend in the days of adversity; he has helped me in the conflict with the enemies of the gods, and is entitled to my acknowledgements. You must, accordingly, repair to him and remain with him till he beholds the offspring you shall bear him." The god thus permits her to marry the mortal hero. After transacting public business, the king retires to the garden of the palace as the evening approaches. A messenger arrives from the queen, apprising his Majesty that she desires to see him on the terrace of the pavilion. The king obeys and ascends the crystal steps while the moon is just about to rise, and the east is tinged with red. As he is waiting for the queen, his desire for Urvasi is awakened again. On a sudden, Urvasi enters on a heavenly car, accompanied by his friend. They are invisible to the king as on the previous occasion. The moment that Urvasi is about to withdraw her veil, the queen appears. She is dressed in white, without any ornaments, and comes to propitiate her husband, by taking a vow. Then she, calling upon the god of the moon, performs her solemn vow and retires. Urvasi, who is present, though in an invisible state, during this scene of matrimonial reconciliation, now advances behind the king and covers his eyes with her hands. The king says:-- "It must be Urvasi; no other hand could shed such ecstasy through my emaciated frame. The solar rays do not wake the night's fair blossom; that alone expands when conscious of the moon's dear presence." She takes the resignation of the queen in good earnest and claims the king as granted her by right. Her friend takes leave and she now remains with the king as his beloved wife in the groves of a forest. Subsequently the lovers are wandering near Kailasa, the divine mountain, when Urvasi, in a fit of jealousy, enters the grove of Kumara, the god of war, which is forbidden to all females. In consequence of Bharat's curse she is instantly metamorphosed into a creeper. The king beside himself with grief at her loss, seeks her everywhere. The nymphs in a chorus deplore her fate. Mournful strains are heard in the air. The king enters a wild forest, his features express insanity, his dress is disordered. Clouds gather overhead. He rushes frantically after a cloud which he mistakes for a demon that carried away his bride. He addresses various birds and asks them whether they have seen his love,--the peacock, 'the bird of the dark-blue throat and eyes of jet,'--the cuckoo, 'whom lovers deem Love's messenger,'--the swans, 'who are sailing northward, and whose elegant gait betrays that they have seen her,'--the chakravaka, 'a bird who, during the night, is himself separated from his mate,'--but none responds. He apostrophises various insects, beasts and even a mountain peak to tell him where she is. Neither the bees which murmur amidst the petals of the lotus, nor the royal elephant, that reclines with his mate under the Kadamba tree, has seen the lost one. At last he thinks he sees her in the mountain stream:-- "The rippling wave is like her frown; the row of tossing birds her girdle; streaks of foam, her fluttering garment as she speeds along; the current, her devious and stumbling gait. It is she turned in her wrath into a stream." At last the king finds a gem of ruddy radiance. He holds it in his hands, and embraces the vine which is now transformed into Urvasi. Thus is she restored to her proper form, through the mighty spell of the magical gem. The efficacious gem is placed on her forehead. The king recovers his reason. They are thus happily re-united and return to Allahabad. Several years elapse. An unlucky incident now comes to pass. A hawk bears away the ruby of re-union. Orders are sent to shoot the bird, and, after a short while, a forester brings the jewel and the arrow by which the hawk was killed. An inscription on the shaft shows that its owner is Ayus. A female ascetic enters, leading a boy with a bow in hand. The boy is Ayus, the son of Urvasi, whom his mother confided to the female ascetic who generously brought him up in the forest and now; sends him back to his mother. The king who was not aware that Urvasi had ever borne him a son, now recognises Ayus as his son. Urvasi also comes to embrace her boy. She now suddenly bursts into tears and tells the king:-- "Indra decreed that I am to be recalled to heaven when you see our son. This induced me to conceal from you so long the birth of the child. Now that you have accidentally seen the child, I shall have to return to heaven, in compliance with the decree of Indra." She now prepares to leave her husband after she has seen her boy installed as associate king. So preparations are made for the inauguration ceremony when Narada the messenger of Indra, comes to announce that the god has compassionately revoked the decree. The nymph is thus permitted to remain on earth for good as the hero's second wife. Nymphs descend from heaven with a golden vase containing the water of the heavenly Ganges, a throne, and other paraphernalia, which they arrange. The prince is inaugurated as Yuvaraj. All now go together to pay their homage to the queen, who had so generously resigned her rights in favour of Urvasi. MALAVIKAGNIMITRA, OR AGNIMITRA AND MALAVIKA. We learn a wise sentiment from the prologue. The stage-manager, addressing the audience, says:--"All that is old is not, on that account, worthy of praise, nor is a novelty, by reason of its newness, to be censured. The wise do not decide what is good or bad till they have tested merit for themselves: a foolish man trusts to another's judgement." Puspamitra was the founder of the Sunga dynasty of Magadha kings, having been the general of Vrihadratha, the last of the Maurya race, whom he deposed and put to death: he was succeeded by his son Agnimitra who reigned at Vidica (Bhilsa) in the second century B.C. King Agnimitra has two queens Dharini and Iravati. Malavika belongs to the train of his queen Dharini's attendants. The maid was sent as a present to the queen by her brother, Virsena, governor of the Antapala or barrier-fortress on the Nermada. The queen jealously keeps her out of the king's sight on account of her great beauty. The king, however, accidentally sees the picture of Malavika, painted by order of the queen for her _chitrasala_, or picture-gallery. The sight of the picture inspires the king with an ardent desire to view the original, whom he has never yet beheld. Hostilities are about to break out between Agnimitra and Yajnasena, king of Viderbha (Berar). The first, on one occasion, had detained captive the brother-in-law of the latter, and Yajnasena had retaliated by throwing into captivity Madhavasena, the personal friend of Agnimitra, when about to repair to Vidisa to visit that monarch. Yajnasena sends to propose an exchange of prisoners, but Agnimitra haughtily rejects the stipulation, and sends orders to his brother-in-law, Virasena, to lead an army immediately against the Raja of Viderbha. This affair being disposed of, he directs his attention to domestic interests, and employs his Vidushaka or confidant, Gotama, to procure him the sight of Malavika. To effect this, Gotama instigates a quarrel between the professors, Ganadas and Haradatta, regarding their respective pre-eminence. They appeal to the Raja, who, in consideration of Ganadasa's being patronised by the queen, refers the dispute to her. She is induced to consent reluctantly to preside at a trial of skill between the parties, as shown in the respective proficiency of their select scholars. The queen is assisted by a protegé, a _Parivrajaka_, or female ascetic and woman of superior learning. The party assembles in the chamber where the performance is to take place, fitted up with the _Sangitarachana_, or orchestral decorations. The king's object is attained, for Ganadasa brings forward Malavika as the pupil on whom he stakes his credit. Malavika sings an _Upanga_ or prelude, and then executes an air of extraordinary difficulty. Malavika's performance is highly applauded, and, of course, captivates the king and destroys his peace of mind; the Vidushaka detains her until the queen, who has all along suspected the plot, commands her to retire. The warder cries the hour of noon, on which the party breaks up, and the queen, with more housewifery than majesty, hastens away to expedite her royal husband's dinner. There stands an _asoka_ tree in the garden. The Hindus believe that this tree, when barren, may be induced to put forth flowers by the contact of the foot of a handsome woman. The tree in question does not blossom, and being the favourite of Dharini, she has proposed to try the effect of her own foot. Unluckily however, the Vidhushaka, whilst setting her swing in motion, has tumbled her out of it and the fall has sprained her ankle, so that she cannot perform the ceremony herself: she therefore deputes Malavika to do it for her, who accordingly comes to the spot attired in royal habiliments, and accompanied by her friend Vakulavali. In the conversation that ensues, she acknowledges her passion for the king, who with his friend Gotama has been watching behind the tree, and overhears the declaration; he therefore makes his appearance and addresses a civil speech, to Malavika when he is interrupted by another pair of listeners, Iravati and her attendant. She commands Malavika's retreat, and leaves the king, in a violent rage, to inform Dharini of what is going forward. The King never behaves as a despot but always with much consideration for the feelings of his spouses. The Vidushaka now informs the king that Malavika has been locked in the _Sarabhandagriha_ or the store or treasure room by the queen. The room was no enviable place, as the Vidusaka compares it to Patala, the infernal regions. He undertakes, however, to effect her liberation; and whilst he prepares for his scheme, the Raja pays a visit to the queen. Whilst the Raja is engaged in tranquil conversation with Dharini, and the parivrajaka, the vidushaka rushes in, exclaiming he has been beaten by a venomous snake, whilst gathering flowers to bring with him as a present on his visit to the queen, and he exhibits his thumb bound with his cord, and marked with the impressions made by the teeth of the reptile. The parivrajaka, with some humour as well as good surgery, recommends the actual cautery, or the amputation of the thumb; but the vidushaka pretending to be in convulsions and dying, the snake-doctor is sent for, who having had his clue refuses to come, and desires the patient may be sent to him: the vidushaka is accordingly sent. The queen is in great alarm, as being, however innocently, the cause of a Brahman's death. Presently the messenger returns, stating that the only hope is the application of the snake-stone to the bite, and requesting the Raja to order one to be procured: the queen has one in her finger-ring, which she instantly takes off and sends to the vidushaka. This is his object, for the female jailor of Malavika has, as he has ascertained, been instructed to liberate her prisoner only on being shown the seal ring or signet of the queen, and having got this in his possession, he immediately effects the damsel's release, after which the ring is returned to the queen, and the Vidushaka is perfectly recovered. The king then being summoned away by a concerted pretext, hastens to the Samudra pavilion, where Malavika has been conveyed with her friend and companion, Vakulavali. This pavilion is decorated with portraits of the king and his queens, and Malavika is found by her lover engrossed with their contemplation. Vakulavali retires. The Vidushaka takes charge of the door, but he no sooner sits down on the threshold than he falls asleep. The Raja and Malavika, consequently, have scarcely time to exchange professions of regard, when they are again disturbed by the vigilant and jealous Iravati, who sends information of her discoveries to Dharini, and in the meantime remains sentinel over the culprits. The party, however, is disturbed by news, that Agnimitra's daughter has been almost frightened to death by a monkey, and Iravati and the Raja hasten to her assistance, leaving Malavika to the consolation derived from hearing that the _Asoka_ tree is in blossom, an omen of the final success of her own desires. The Raja, Dharini and the Parivrajaka, with Malavika and other attendants, gather about the _Asoka_ tree, when some presents arrive from the now submissive monarch of Viderbha, against whom the troops of Virashena have been successful. Amongst the gifts are two female slaves, who immediately recognize in Malavika the sister of Madhavasena, the friend of Agnimitra, whom the armies of the latter have just extricated from the captivity to which the Viderbha sovereign had consigned him. It appears that when he was formerly seized by his kinsman, his minister, Sumati, contrived to effect his own escape, along with his sister and the young princess. That sister, Kausika, now reveals herself in the person of the Parivrajaka, and continues the story of their flight. Sumati joined a caravan bound to Vidisa On their way to the Vindhya mountains, they were attacked by the foresters, who were armed with bows and arrows, and decorated with peacock's plumes: in the affray Sumati was slain and Malavika was lost. Kausika, left alone, committed her brother's body to the flames, and then resumed her route to Vidisa, where she assumed the character of a female ascetic The Raja observes she did wisely. Kausika soon found out Malavika, but forebore to discover herself, confiding in the prophecy of a sage, who had foretold that the princess, after passing through a period of servitude, would meet with a suitable match. It thus finally turns out that Malavika is by birth a princess, who had only come to be an attendant at Agnimitra's court through having fallen into the hands of robbers. The king issues his orders respecting the terms to be granted to Yajnasena, the king of Viderbha, the half of whose territory he assigns to Madhavasena, the brother of Malavika. A letter arrives from the general Pushpamitra, giving an account of some transactions that have occurred upon the southern bank of the Indus. On his own behalf, or that of his son, he had undertaken to celebrate an _aswamedha_, or horse-sacrifice, for which it was essential that the steed should have a free range for twelve months, being attended only by a guard to secure him. This guard had been placed by Pushpamitra under the command of Agnimitra's son, Vasumitra. Whilst following the victim along the Indus, a party of Yavana horse attempted to carry off the courser, but they were encountered by the young prince, and after a sharp conflict, defeated. Pushpamitra concludes with inviting his son to come with his family to complete the sacrifice. The queen, Dharini, overjoyed with the news of her son's success and safety, distributes rich presents to all her train and the females of Agnimitra's establishment, whilst to him she presents Malavika. Iravati communicates her concurrence in this arrangement, and the Raja obtains a bride, whom his queens accept as their sister. The difficulty of conciliating his queens is thus removed. The king now marries Malavika and all ends happily. THE VIRA CHARITA OR THE MAHAVIRA CHARITA OR THE LIFE OF THE GREAT HERO. Dasaratha, the king of Ayodhya (Oudh), is the father of four sons Rama, Lakshmana, Bharata and Satrughna. Rama and Lakshmana visit Viswamitra's hermitage. Kusadhwaja, the king of Sankasya and the brother of Janaka, the king of Mithila, accompanied by his two nieces, Sita and Urmila, enters the hermitage of Viswamitra on the borders of the Kausiki (Cosi), having been invited by the sage to his sacrifice. He is met by the sage with the two youths Rama and Lakshmana, and the young couples become mutually enamoured. Meanwhile Ahalya--the cursed wife of Gautama--gets cleared of her guilt through the purifying influence of Rama. A messenger from Ravana, the demon king of Lanka, arrives, who has followed them from Mithila, and comes to demand Sita as a wife for his master. They are further disturbed by Taraka, a female fiend, the daughter of Suketu, wife of Sunda and mother of Maricha. Rama, by command of Viswamitra slays her. Viswamitra is exceedingly pleased with the deed and invokes and gives to Rama the heavenly weapons with all their secrets of discharge and dissolution. The sage recommends Kusadhwaja to invite the bow of Siva for Rama's present trial, and consequent obtaining of Sita. The bow arrives, self-conveyed, being, as the weapon of so great a deity, pregnant with intelligence. Rama snaps it asunder, in consequence of which feat it is agreed that Sita shall be wedded to him; Urmila her sister, to Lakshmana; and Mandavi and Srutakirti, the daughters of Kusadhwaja, to Bharata and Satrughna respectively. The party is again disturbed by Suvahu and Maricha, the first of whom is killed and the second, thrown at a distance by Rama. The messenger of Ravana then goes away mortified to represent the matter to the minister of Ravana. The saint and his visitors then retire into the hermitage. Malyavan, the minister and maternal grandfather of Ravana and the king's sister Surpanakha have heard the news of Rama's wedding with Sita from Siddhasrama and discuss the consequences with some apprehension. The minister takes the marriage as an insult to his master. A letter arrives from Parasurama partly requesting and partly commanding Ravana to call off some of his imps, who are molesting the sages in Dandakaranya. He writes from Mahendra Dwipa. Malyavan takes advantage of this opportunity to instigate a quarrel between the two Ramas, anticipating that Parasurama, who is the pupil of Siva, will be highly incensed when he hears of Rama's breaking the bow of that divinity. The hero comes to Videha, the palace of Janaka, to defy the insulter of his god and preceptor. He enters the interior of the palace, the guards and attendants being afraid to stop him, and calls upon Rama to show himself. The young hero is proud of Parasurama's seeking him and anxious for the encounter but detained awhile by Sita's terrors: at last the heroes meet. Parasurama alludes to his own history how he, having overcome his fellow-pupil, Kartikeya, in a battle-axe fight, received his axe from his preceptor, Siva, as the prize of his prowess. Parasurama addresses Rama thus:-- "How dost thou presume to bend thy brow in frowns on me? Thou must be an audacious boy, a scion of the vile Kshatriya race. Thy tender years and newly wedded bride teach me a weakness I am not wont to feel. Throughout the world the story runs, I, Rama, and the son of Jamadgni, struck off a mother's head with remorseless arm. This vengeful axe has one and twenty times destroyed the Kshatriya race, not sparing in its wrath the unborn babe hewn piecemeal in the parent womb. It was thus I slaked the fires of a wronged father's wrath with blood, whose torrents, drawn unsparingly from martial veins, fed the vast reservoir in which I love to bathe." Rama replies thus:-- "Give over thy vaunts--I hold thy cruelty a crime, not virtue." The combat between the two Ramas is suspended by the arrival of Janaka and Satananda, and Rama's being summoned to attend the Kanchana Mochana, the loosening of Sita's golden bracelet. Parasurama awaits Ramachandra's return. He is accosted in succession by Vasishtha, Viswamitra, Satananda, Janaka and Dasaratha, who first endeavour to soothe and then to terrify him; but he outbullies them all: at last Ramachandra returns from the string-removing ceremony and is heard calling on Parasurama, and the combat ensues. Ramachandra comes out victorious. The two kings Janaka and Dasaratha congratulate each other on the victory of Ramachandra. Parasurama is now as humble as he was before arrogant: he calls upon the earth to hide his shame. Whilst Rama regrets Bhargava's departure, Surpanakha, disguised as Manthara, the favourite of Kaikeyi, Dasaratha's second wife, arrives with a letter to Rama, requesting him to use his influence with his father to secure Kaikeyi the two boons which Dasaratha was pledged to grant her; specifying one to be her son Bharata's inauguration, and the other, assent to Rama's voluntary exile. In the meantime, Dasaratha, who has determined to raise Rama to the participation of regal dignity, communicates his intention to his son. Rama replies by informing him of Kaikeyi's message, and is earnest with his father to accede to her request. Bharata and his maternal uncle Yuddhajit arrive, and ask Dasaratha to crown Rama and all are full of wonder and concern: however, as there is no help for it, Dasaratha consents and orders preparations for the ceremony. Lakshmana and Sita are alone to accompany Rama, on which her father Janaka exclaims, "My child, what happiness it will be to wait upon thy husband in the hour of trouble, permitted to partake and cheer his wanderings!" Bharata requests permission to go with them, but Rama refuses his assent; on which his brother begs his golden shoes of him, promising to instal them in the kingdom, and rule thereafter as their representative. The seniors are led out in deep despondency, and Rama with his brother and wife set off to the woods. A dialogue opens between the two birds, Jatayu and Sampati, the vulture-descendants of Kasyapa, who have seen successive creations. They relate Rama's progress towards the south; and Sampati, the elder leaves his brother Jatayu, with strict injunctions to assist Rama, if needed. He then goes to the ocean to perform daily duties and Jatayu to Malaya. Jatayu perches on the mountain and marks the hero Rama in pursuit of the swift deer. Lakshmana directs his remote course thither. A holy seer approaches the bower and the dame gives him meet welcome. His form expands. It is he, the felon Ravana--his train crowd from the groves; he seizes upon Sita--he mounts the car. Jatayu cries shame on his birth and threatens to rend his limbs and revel in his gore. Jatayu is, however, killed in the conflict. Rama raves with indignation. The brothers set off in pursuit of the ravisher, when Sramana, a female devotee sent by Vibhishana to Rama, calls for succour being seized by Kabandha, a headless fiend. Rama sends Lakshmana to her rescue; he goes off to kill the demon and returns with the dame. She gives Rama a note from Vibhishana praying for his refuge. Rama asks Lakshmana what reply to be sent to (his) "dear friend--lord of Lanka" and Lakshman replies that those words are sufficient. (Two promises are implied--first contraction of friendship and secondly bestowal of the Kingdom of Lanka.) Rama, learning from the devotee that Vibhishana is with Sugriva, Hanuman, and other monkey chiefs at Rishyamuka, and that the monkeys have picked up Sita's ornaments and upper garments in the forest, determines to go to them. Kabandha then appears, to thank Rama for killing him, being thereby liberated from a curse and restored to a divine condition. They then set off to Rishyamuka, the residence of Bali, watered by the Pampa. In the way Rama performs a miracle by kicking away the skeleton of a giant. When the brothers arrive at the mountain, Bali appears like a cloud upon its peak and, being instigated by his friend Malyavan, resolves to oppose Rama. The heroes meet and, after exchange of civilities, go to the conflict. The noise brings Vibhishana, Sugriva, and all the monkey chiefs to the place. Bali is overthrown and mortally wounded. He recommends the Monkeys to choose Sugriva and his own son Angada for their joint sovereigns, and mediates an alliance between Rama and them, as well as with Vibhishana. Rama and Sugriva pledge themselves to eternal friendship, over the sacrificial fire in Matanga's hermitage which stood close by. Bali then repeats his request to the monkey chiefs, as they were attached to him, to acknowledge Sugriva and Angada as their joint leaders, and to follow them in aid of Rama against Ravana in the ensuing contest: he then dies. Malyavan laments over these miscarriages. Trijata, a Rakshasi, adds to his despondency by news of the mischief inflicted by Hanumana, who has burnt the town of Lanka and slain a son of Ravana. He goes off to set guards, and gather news by means of spies. Ravana meditates on his love. His queen Mahodhari comes to bring him tidings of Rama's approach, but he only laughs at her. She tells him of the bridge made by Rama: he replies, if all the mountains of the earth were cast into the ocean, they would not furnish footing to cross it. His incredulity is terminated by a general alarm, and the appearance of Prahasta, his general, to announce that Lanka is invested. Angada comes as envoy from Rama, to command Ravana to restore Sita and prostrate himself and his family at the feet of Lakshmana. Ravana, enraged, orders some contumely or punishment to be inflicted upon him. He orders him to be shaved. Angada puffs his hair out with rage. The monkey tells Ravana, if he were not an ambassador, he would tear off his ten heads, and he then springs away; the tumult increases, and Ravana goes forth to the combat. Indra and Chiraratha then come to see the battle from the air. All the chiefs of the two parties engage in promiscuous war. The Rakshasas have the worst, but Ravana, with his brother Kumbhakarna and his son Meghanada, turns the tide: the monkeys fly, leaving Rama almost unsupported. Lakshmana attacks Meghanada: Ravana quits Rama to assist his son. The "serpent band" of Meghnada is dispersed by the "eagle-king-weapon" of Lakshmana. The forces of Kumbhakarna are reduced to ashes with a fire-weapon by Rama. Rama kills Kumbhakarna, and then goes to the aid of Lakshmana; the whole of Rama's party are then overwhelmed with magical weapons, hurled invisibly by Ravana upon them, and fall senseless. While Ravana seeks to restore Kumbhakarna, Hanuman, reviving, goes to fetch _amrita_, and tearing up the mountain that contains it, returns to the field: his very approach restores Lakshmana, who jumps up with increased animation, like a serpent starting from his shrivelled skin or the sun bursting from clouds. So Raghu's youngest hope, restored by heavenly herbs, burns with more than wonted ardour, wonders a moment what has chanced and then, all on fire for glory, rushes to the fight. Rama also revives, and instigated by the sages, exerts his celestial energies, by which the daitya, Ravana, and his host speedily perish. Rama is victorious, and Sita is recovered. Vibhishana is now crowned king of Lanka. Alaka, a tutelary deity, comes. Lanka, another tutelary deity, is consoled by Alaka. Sita passes the fiery ordeal in triumph. The gods cheer her. Rama, accompainied by Sita, Lakshmana, Vibhishana and Sugriva, then enters the aerial car Pushpaka which was once wrested from Kuvera by Ravana, and which is now placed at the disposal of Rama by Vibhishana. The car transports them from Ceylon all the way to Ayodhya. One or other of the party points out the places over which they fly viz. the _Setu_ or bridge of Rama the Malaya mountain, the Kaveri river, the hermitage of Agastya, the Pampa river, the residence of Bali and of Jatayu, the limits of the Dandaka forest, the Sahya or Sailadri mountains and the boundaries of Aryavarta. They then rise and travel through the upper air, approaching near the sun, and are met and eulogized by a _Kinnara_ and his bride; they then come to the peaks of the Himalaya, and descend upon Tapavana, whence they go towards Ayodhya, where Rama is welcomed by his brothers Bharata and Satrughna, their mothers, Vasistha and Viswamitra. The four brothers embrace one another. Rama is now consecrated king by Vasishtha and Viswamitra. UTTAR RAMA CHARITA OR THE LATER LIFE OF RAMA. Rama, when duly crowned at Ayodhya, enters upon a life of quiet enjoyment with his wife Sita. The love of Rama and Sita, purified by sorrow during the late exile, is most tender. After a stay of a few days at Ayodhya, Janaka, the father of Sita, goes back to his country Mithila. Rama consoles his queen for her father's absence. The sage Ashtavakra comes in and delivers a message to Rama from his spiritual preceptors to satisfy the wishes of Sita and please his people. Then the sage goes away. The family priest Vasishtha, having to leave the capital for a time to assist at a sacrifice, utters a few words of parting advice to Rama, thus:-- "Remember that a king's real glory consists in his people's welfare." Rama replies: "I am ready to give up everything, happiness, love, pity--even Sita herself--if needful for my subjects' good." In accordance with this promise, he employs an emissary named Durmukha to ascertain the popular opinion as to his own treatment of his subjects. Lakshmana now asks Rama and Sita to come out and see their early history drawn on the terrace of the palace. They move about and the different parts of the picture are shown to Sita, when the eyes of Sita turn on the 'yawn-producing' weapons. Rama asks her to salute them so that they would attend also on her children. Sita then feels tired and lays her head on the arm of her husband and sleeps. Then Durmukha, who, as an old and trusted servant, had free admission to the inner apartments, comes and whispers to him that people condemn his receiving back a queen, abducted by a fiend, after her long residence in a stranger's house. In short, he is told that they still gossip and talk scandal about her and Ravana. The scrupulously correct and over-sensitive Rama, though convinced of his wife's fidelity after her submission to the fiery ordeal, and though she is now likely to become a mother, feels himself quite unable to allow the slightest cause of offence to continue among his subjects. He has no other resource. People must be satisfied. He orders his dear Sita's exile, and the messenger goes away to deliver the order to Lakshmana to seclude her somewhere in the woods. He is torn by contending feelings. He is overpowered with grief, withdraws his arm from his sleeping wife and pours forth pathetic lamentation. Then he takes up her feet and cries when the announcement of the arrival of frightened Rishis makes him go out to send Satrughna to their succour. The messenger Durmukha then enters and takes Sita unsuspectingly to mount the chariot which is to lead her to exile. Lakshmana takes Sita to the forest and leaves her there. She is protected by divine agencies. Her twin sons, Kusa and Lava, are born and entrusted to the care of the sage Valmiki, the author of the Ramayana, who brings them up in his hermitage. The boys have no knowledge of their royal descent. An incident now occurs which leads Rama to revisit the Dandaka forest, the scene of his former exile. The child of a Brahman dies suddenly and unaccountably. His body is laid at Rama's door. Evidently some national sin is the cause of such a calamity, and an aerial voice informs him that an awful crime is being perpetrated; for a Sudra, named Sambuka, is practising religious austerities, instead of confining himself to his proper vocation of waiting on the twice-born castes. Rama instantly starts for the forest, discovers Sambuka in the sacrilegious act and strikes off his head. But death by Rama's hand confers immortality on the Sudra, who appears as a celestial spirit, and thanks his benefactor for the glory and felicity thus obtained. Before returning to Ayodhya, Rama is induced to visit the hermitage of the sage Agastya in Panchavati. Sita now reappears. She is herself invisible to Rama through the favour of the Bhagirathi but able to thrill with emotions by her touch. Rama is greatly distracted. He faints with old remembrances but revives on the touch of Sita. He observes, "What does this mean? Heavenly balm seems poured into my heart; a well-known touch changes my insensibility to life. Is it Sita, or am I dreaming?" He vainly seeks for her possession, but at last goes away on the advice of his companion Visanti. The sage Valmiki makes great preparations for receiving Vasishtha, Janaka, Kaushalya, the mother of Rama and other eminent guests. The pupils are delighted because the visit of the guests affords hopes of a feast at which flesh meat is to constitute one of the dishes. As the boys have got a holiday in honour of the guests, they are playing at some distance from a tree outside the hermitage. Among them, Kaushalya notices a boy with the features of her son, who is called in but whom the guests do not yet know to be a son of Rama. Soon after, the horse of the horse-sacrifice of Rama comes near and he goes out with other boys to see the fun while the elders go to see the host. The attendant soldiers cry out that Rama is the only hero of the world. Lava--for such is the boy's name,--cannot brook such vaunts and removes the banner. Soldiers crowd upon him and Lava draws his bow. Lakshmana's son Chandraketu--the general of the army--arrives surprised at the slaughter of his army and asks Lava to leave the incapable army and fight with himself. Lava obeys the call and after some conversation in which he ridicules the powers of Rama and infuriates his antagonist, they go out to fight. The discharge and repulsion of the divine weapons occur. The approach of Rama puts an end to the contest. Lava's elder brother Kusa has heard of his fight and comes to "eradicate from the world the name of emperor." But Lava has become calm and asks his brother to pay respects to the hero of the Ramayana. Rama embraces both of them and is moved with their son-like touch. He notices in them the features of his wife He knows that his children alone could possess the divine weapons. He recollects that his wife was left in that part of the forest and instinctively comes to the conclusion that they are his children. He wishes to ask about their birth in a roundabout way, but before proceeding to the end, is asked to see his spiritual preceptor. The desertion of Sita is acted by nymphs on the banks of the Ganges before Rama and other high guests invited by Valmiki. Sita, from behind the stage, cries out "the beasts of prey desire [to devour] me in the forest (left) alone and unprotected. I will throw myself into the Bhagirathi." She enters supported by her mother Prithivi, the Earth and Ganga, each carrying a baby in the lap. Ganga tells her of the birth of the twins and consoles her, but Earth is greatly distressed with the conduct of Rama. Ganga replies "who can close the door of Fate?" But Earth says, "has it been proper for the good Rama? He disregarded the hand he pressed when a boy. He disregarded me and Janaka. He disregarded Fire (who shewed her purity). He disregarded the children she was about to bring forth." But Ganga pacifies her and they agree to make over the children to Valmiki, when they become a little old. Earth then asks her daughter to come to the nether world, to which she agrees and with their exit closes the play. At the close of the play, Rama faints. Then the real Sita enters with Arundhuti, the wife of Rama's preceptor and touches and revives her husband. The people are satisfied with her purity and Rama takes her back with the children who are introduced by Valmiki. The husband and wife are thus re-united after twelve years of grievous solitude, and happiness is restored to the whole family. The re-union is witnessed not only by the people of Ayodhya, but by the congregated deities of earth and heaven. Rama thus describes his love for his wife:-- "Her presence is ambrosia to my sight; her contact, fragrant sandal; her fond arms, twined round my neck; are a far richer clasp than costliest gems, and in my house she reigns the guardian goddess of my fame and fortune. Oh! I could never bear again to lose her." MALATI AND MADHAVA OR THE STOLEN MARRIAGE. There lived, in the town of Kundinapura in Berar, Devarata, a very calm and sagacious minister to the king of Vidarbha. He had a son named Madhava. Madhava was very beautiful and of uncommon intelligence. He became proficient in all branches of learning, in his early age. He now arrived at a marriageable age. The beautiful town of Padmavati in Malwa is situated at the confluence of the two rivers Indus and Madhumati. There lived in Padmavati, Bhurivasu, who was minister to the king of Padmavati. He had a very beautiful unmarried daughter named Malati. The king indicated an intention to propose a match between Malati and his own favourite Nandan, who was both old and ugly, and whom she detested. Bhurivasu feared to give offence to the king by refusing the match. Devarata and Bhurivasu were fellow students. In their academical days they pledged themselves that they should enter into matrimonial alliance, if they happen to have children. Malati and Madhava did not know anything about their fathers' promises. There lived in Padmavati, Kamandaki, an old Buddhist priestess who was nurse of Malati. The priestess knew everything about the matrimonial promise. She was a very intelligent lady and was respected by all. The two friends concert a plan with the priestess to throw the young people in each other's way and to connive at a secret marriage. In pursuance of this scheme, Madhava is sent to finish his studies at the city of Padmavati with the ostensible object of studying Logic under the care of the priestess, who takes great care of her pupil and endeavours her utmost to fulfil the promise of her two friends. By her contrivance and with the aid of Malati's foster-sister Lavangika, the young people meet and become mutually enamoured. Kamandaki addresses her favourite disciple Avalokita thus:-- "Dear Avalokita! Oh how I wish for the marital union of Madhava, the son of Devarata, and Malati, the daughter of Bhurivasu! Auspicious signs forerun a happy fate. Even now my throbbing eyeball tells that propitious destiny shall crown my schemes." Avalokita replies:-- "Oh, here is a serious cause of anxiety. How strange! You are already burdened with the austerities of devotional exercises, Bhurivasu has commissioned you to perform this arduous task. Though retired from the world, you could not avoid this business." Kamandaki says, "Never say so. The commission is an office of love and trust. If my friend's object is gained even at the expense of my life and penances, I shall feel myself gratified." The pupil asks "why is a stolen marriage intended?" The priestess answers, "Nandana, a favourite of the king of Padmavati, sues him for Malati. The king demands the maiden of her father. To evade the anger of the king, this ingenious device has been adopted. Let the world deem their union was the work of mutual passion only. So the king and Nandan will be foiled. A wise man veils his projects from the world." The pupil says, "I take Madhava to walk in the street in front of the house of the minister Bhurivasu." The priestess says, "I have heard from Lavangika, the foster-sister of Malati, that Malati has seen Madhava from the windows of her house. Her waning form faithfully betrays the lurking care she now first learns to suffer." The pupil says, "I have heard that, to soothe that care, Malati has drawn a picture of Madhava and has sent it through Lavangika to Mandarika, her attendant." The priestess perceives that Malati has done so with the object that the picture would reach Madhava as Mandarika is in love with Kalahansa, the servant of Madhava. Avalokita again says, "To-day is the great festival of Madan; Malati will surely come to join the festival, I have interested Madhava to go to the garden of Love's god with a view that the youthful pair may meet there." The priestess replies, "I tender my best thanks for your kindly zeal to aid the object of my wishes. Can you give me any tidings of Soudamini, my former pupil?" Avalokita answers, "she now resides upon mount _Sriparvata_. She has now arrived at supernatural power by religious austerities. I have learnt the news about her from Kapala Kundala, the female pupil of a tremendous magician Aghorghanta, a seer and a wandering mendicant, but now residing amidst the neighbouring forest, who frequents the temple of the dreadful goddess _Chamunda_ near the city cemetry." Avalokita remarks, "Madhava would be highly pleased if his early friend Makaranda is united in wedlock with Madayantika, the sister of Nandana." The priestess observes, "I have already engaged my disciple Buddharakshita for the purpose. Let us go forth and having learnt how Madhava has fared, repair to Malati. May our devices prosper!" Madhava thus describes to his friend Makaranda his first interview with Malati, and acknowledges himself deeply smitten:-- "One day, advised by Avalokita, I went to the temple of the god of love. I saw there a beauteous maid. I have become a victim to her glances. Her gait was stately. Her train bespoke a princely rank. Her garb was graced with youth's appropriate ornaments. Her form was beauty's shrine, or of that shrine she moved as the guardian deity. Whatever Nature offers fairest and best had surely been assembled to mould her charms. Love omnipotent was her creator. Then I too plainly noted that the lovely maid, revealed the signs of passion long entertained for some happy youth. Her shape was as slender as the lotus stalk. Her pallid cheeks, like unstained ivory, rivalled the beauty of the spotless moon. I scarcely had gazed upon her, but my eyes felt new delight, as bathed with nectar. She drew my heart at once towards her as powerfully as the magnet does the unresisting iron. That heart, though its sudden passion may be causeless, is fixed on her for ever, chance what may, and though my portion be henceforth despair. The goddess Destiny decrees at pleasure the good or ill of all created beings." Makranda observes, "Believe me, this cannot be without some cause. Behold! all nature's sympathies spring not from outward form but from inward virtue. The lotus does not bud till the sun has risen. The moon-gem does not melt till it feels the moon." Madhava goes on with his description thus:-- "When her fair train beheld me, they exchanged expressive looks and smiles and murmured to one another as if they knew me. What firmness could resist the honest warmth of nature's mute expressiveness? Those looks of love, beaming with mild timidity and moist with sweet abandonment, tore off my heart,--nay plucked it from my bosom by the roots, all pierced with wounds. Being incredulous of my happiness, I sought to mark her passion, without displaying my own. A stately elephant received the princess and bore her towards the city. Whilst she moved, she shot from her delicate lids retiring glances, tipped with venom and ambrosia, My breast received the shafts. Words cannot paint my agony. Vain were the lunar rays or gelid streams to cool my body's fever, whilst my mind whirls in perpetual round and does not know rest. Requested by Lavangika, I gave her the flowery wreath. She took it with respect, as if it were a precious gift and all the while the eyes of Malati were fixed on her. Bowing with reverence, she than retired." Makaranda remarks-- "Your story most plainly shows that Malati's affection is your own. The soft cheek, whose pallid tint denoted love pre-conceived, is pale alone for you; She must have seen you. Maidens of her rank do not allow their eyes to rest on one to whom they have not already given their hearts. And then, those looks that passed among her maidens plainly showed the passion you had awakened in their mistress. Then comes her foster-sister's clear enigma and tells intelligibly whose her heart is." Kalahansa, advancing, shows a picture and says, "This picture is the work of hers who has stolen Madhava's heart. Mandarika gave it to me. She had it from Lavangika, Malati painted it to amuse and relieve distress." Makaranda says, "This lovely maid, the soft light of your eyes, assuredly regards you bound to her in love's alliance. What should prevent your union? Fate and love combined seem labouring to effect it. Come, let me behold the wondrous form that works such change in you. You have the skill. Portray her." Madhava, in return, delineates the likeness of Malati on the same tablet and Makaranda writes under it the following impassioned love-stanza, "Whatever nature loveliness displays, May seem to others beautiful and bright; But since these charms have broken upon my gaze, They form my life's sole exquisite delight." Being asked by Makaranda as to how and where Malati first saw Madhava, Mandarika says, "Malati was called to the lattice by Lavangika to look at him as he passed the palace." The picture is restored to Mandarika and brought back to Malati. The mutual passion of the lovers, encouraged by their respective confidants, is naturally increased. Madhava thus addresses Makaranda, "It is strange, most strange! wherever I turn, the same loved charms appear on every side. Her beauteous face gleams as brightly as the golden bud of the young lotus. Alas! my friend, this fascination spreads over all my senses. A feverish flame consumes my strength. My heart is all on fire. My mind is tossed with doubt. Every faculty is absorbed in one fond thought. I cease to be myself or conscious of the thing I am." Malati thus addresses Lavangika:-- "Love spreads through every vein like subtlest poison and, like fire that brightens in the breeze, consumes this feeble frame. Resistless fever preys on each fibre. Its fury is fatal. No one can help me. Neither father nor mother nor Lavangika can save me. Life is distasteful to me. Repeatedly recurring to the anguish of my heart, I lose all fortitude and in my grief become capricious and unjust. Forgive me. Let the full moon blaze in the mighty sky. Let love rage on. Death screens me from his fury." In the meantime, the king makes the long-expected demand and the minister Bhurivasu returns the following ambiguous answer:-- "Your Majesty may dispose of your daughter as your Majesty pleases." [This answer is used in a double sense:-- "Your minister's daughter is your own daughter and you can dispose of her as you please," and "You can dispose of your own daughter as you please, but not my daughter." The father's connivance at his daughter's stolen marriage would appear inconsistent if the reply is not understood in its double sense.] The intelligence reaches the lovers. They are thrown into despair. Requested by Lavangika, Kamandaki thus describes Madhava in the presence of Malati:-- "The sovereign of Vidarbha boasts for minister the wise and long-experienced Devarata, who bears the burden of state and spreads throughout the world his piety and fame. Your father knows him well. For, in their youth, they were joined in study and trained to learning by the same preceptor. In this world we rarely behold such characters as theirs. Their lofty rank is the abode of wisdom and of piety, of valour and of virtue. Their fame spreads white and spotless through the universe. A son has sprung from Devarata whose opening virtues early give occasion of rejoicing to the world. Now, in his bloom, this youth has been sent to our city to collect ripe stores of knowledge. His name is Madhava." Kamandaki soliloquises thus:-- "Malati is tutored to our wishes and inspired with hatred of the bridegroom Nandan. He is reminded of the examples of _Sakuntala_ and _Vasavadatta_ that vindicate the free choice of a husband. Her admiration of her youthful lover is now approved by his illustrious birth and my encomium of his high descent. All this must strengthen and confirm her passion. Now their union may be left to fate." By the contrivance of Kamandaki, a second interview between the lovers takes place in the public garden of the temple of _Sankara_. Malati is persuaded that the god _Sankara_ is to be propitiated with offerings of flowers gathered by one's self. Whilst she is collecting her oblation she and Madhava meet as if by accident. At this moment, a great tumult and terrific screams announce that a tremendous tiger has escaped from an iron cage in the temple of Siva, spreading destruction everywhere. Instantly, Nandana's youthful sister, Madayantika happens to be passing, and is attacked by the tiger and is reported to be in imminent danger. Madhava and Makaranda both rush to the rescue. The latter kills the animal, and thus saves her who is then brought in a half-fainting state into the garden. He is himself wounded. Mandayantika is thus saved by the valour of Makaranda. The gallant youth is brought in insensible. By the care of the women, he revives. On recovering, Madayantika naturally falls in love with her deliverer. The two couples are thus brought together. Malati affiances herself there and then to Madhava. Soon afterwards, the king prepares to enforce the marriage of Malati with Nandan. A messenger arrives to summon Madayantika to be present at the marriage. Another messenger summons Malati herself to the king's place. Madhava is mad with grief and in despair makes the extraordinary resolution of purchasing the aid of ghosts and malignant spirits by going to the cemetery and offering them living flesh, cut off from his own body, as food. He accordingly bathes in the river Sindhu and goes at night to the cemetery. The cemetery happens to be near the temple of the awful goddess Chamunda, a form of Durga. The temple is presided over by a sorceress named Kapalkundla and her preceptor, a terrible necromancer Aghorghanta. They have determined on offering some beautiful maiden as a human victim to the goddess. With this object they carry off Malati, before her departure, while asleep on a terrace and bringing her to the temple, are about to kill her at the shrine when her cries of distress attract the attention of Madhava, who is, at the moment, in the cemetery offering his flesh to the ghosts. He thinks he recognizes the voice of Malati. He rushes forward to her rescue. She is discovered dressed as a victim and the magician and the sorceress are preparing for the sacrifice. He encounters Aghorghanta and, after a terrific hand-to-hand fight, kills him and rescues Malati. She flies to his arms. Voices are heard as of persons in search of Malati. Madhava places her in safety. The sorceress vows vengeance against Madhava for slaying her preceptor Aghorghanta. Malati is now restored to her friends. The preparations for Malati's wedding with Nandana goes on. The old priestess Kamandaki, who favours the union of Malati with her lover Madhava, contrives that, by the king's command, the bridal dress shall be put on at the very temple where her own ministrations are conducted. There she persuades Makaranda to substitute himself for the bride. He puts on the bridal dress, is carried in procession to the house of Nandan and goes through the form of being married to him. Nandana, being disgusted with the masculine appearance of the pretended bride, and offended by the rude reception given to him, vows to have no further communication with her and consigns her to his sister's care in the inner apartments. This enabled Makaranda to effect an interview with Nandana's sister Madayantika, the object of his own affections. Makaranda then discovers himself to his mistress and persuades her to run away with him to the place where Malati and Madhava have concealed themselves. Their flight is discovered. The king's guards are sent in pursuit. A great fight follows; but Makaranda, assisted by Madhava, defeats his opponents. The bravery and handsome appearance of the two youths avert the king's anger and they are allowed to join their friends unpunished. The friends accordingly assemble at the gate of the temple. But the sorceress, who has been watching an opportunity when Malati is unprotected, takes advantage of the confusion and carries her off in a flying car, in revenge for the death of her preceptor. The distress of her lover and friends knows no bounds. They are reduced to despair at this second obstacle to the marriage. They give up all hopes of recovering her when they are happily relieved by the opportune arrival of Soudamini, an old pupil of the priestess Kamandaki, who has acquired extraordinary magical powers by her penances. She rescues Malati from the hands of the sorceress and restores her to her despairing lover. The two couples are now united in happy wedlock. HANUMAN NATAKA, OR MAHANATAKA, OR THE GREAT DRAMA. In Ayodhya, there was an illustrious and powerful monarch, the subduer of foes and the renowned ornament of the exalted house of the sun, named Dasaratha in whose family, for the purpose of relieving the Earth of her burden, Bhurisravas (Vishnu) deigned to incorporate his divine substance as four blooming youths. The eldest, endowed with the qualities of imperial worth, was Rama. He goes with his brother Lakshmana to the court of Mithila, to try his strength in the bending of the bow of Siva, and thereby win Sita for his bride. The hero triumphs. The bow is broken with a deafening sound which brings Parasurama there. Rama wins his bride. He tries the bow of Parasurama and shoots an arrow from it which flies to Swerga or heaven. The Brahmin hero now acknowledges the Kshatriya hero to be his superior. Rama is married to Sita. The sweet loves of the happy pair grows with enjoyment. Various portents then indicate Rama's impending separation from his father. The sun looks forth dimmed in radiance. Fiery torches wave along the sky. Meteors dart headlong through midheaven. Earth shakes. The firmament rains showers of blood. Around, the horizon thickens. In the day, the pale stars gleam. Unseasonable eclipse darkens the noon. Day echoes with the howls of dogs and jackals, whilst the air replies with horrid and strange sounds, such as shall peal, when the destroying deity proclaims in thunder the dissolution of the world. Rama is exiled. At this, the king dies in agony. It is the result of the stern curse denounced upon the king by the father of the ascetic whom the king, hunting in his youthful days, had accidentally slain. Rama fixes his residence at Panchavati. Maricha, a Rakshasa, now appears as a deer. The supposed animal is chased by Rama and Lakshmana at Sita's request. Ravana then comes disguised to see Sita. He mutters, "pious dame! Give me food." She heedlessly oversteps the magic ring traced by Lakshmana, when the Rakshasa seizes her by the hand stretched in charity. She calls in vain the sons of Raghu. Jatayu, the vulture, endeavours to rescue her, but is slain. She encounters Hanuman, the chief Counsellor of Sugriva, the dethroned king of the Monkeys, and begs him to carry her ornaments, which she casts to him, to Rama. Having slain the deer, the prince, with his brave brother, returns to their bower. He seeks Sita, but seeks in vain. His steps tread three several quarters, the fourth he leaves, overcome with grief and terror, unexplored. Rama prosecutes his search after Sita. He fights with Bali, the king of the Monkeys, and triumphs over him. He now despatches Hanuman to Lanka, Hanuman pays a visit to Sita. He performs various feats at Lanka and returns to Rama whose hosts now advance towards Lanka. Vibhishana, the brother of Ravana, expostulates with his royal brother, but in vain. Consequently he deserts the king and goes over to Rama. The Monkeys advance further towards Lanka. A bridge is built over the sea. The troops cross over it. Where first the Monkey bands advance, they view a watery belt smoothly circling round the shore: the following troops plough their way through the thick mire with labour; the chief who leads the rear, filled with wonder, exclaims, "Here is Ocean." Rama now sends Angada, the son of Bali, to persuade Ravana to relinquish Sita peaceably. Angada has some feeling of aversion to Rama, who killed his father, but thinks he shall best fulfil his father's wishes by promoting the war between Ravana and Rama; he therefore goes to Ravana and defies him in very haughty terms. Ravana says:-- "Indra, the king of the gods, weaves garlands for me; the thousand-rayed or the Sun keeps watch at my gate; above my head Chandra or the Moon uprears the umbrella of dominion; the wind's and the ocean's monarchs are my slaves; and for my board the fiery godhead toils. Knowest thou not this, and canst thou stoop to praise the son of Raghu, whose frail mortal body is but a meal to any of my households?" Angada laughs and observes:--"Is this thy wisdom, Ravana? Infirm of judgement dost thou deem of Rama thus--a mortal man? Then Ganga merely flows a watery stream; the elephants that bear the skies, and Indra's steed, are brutal forms; the charms of Rembha are the fleeting beauties of earth's weak daughters, and the golden age, a term of years. Love is a petty archer; the mighty Hanuman, in thy proud discernment, is an ape." Angada, having in vain endeavoured to persuade Ravana to restore Sita, leaves him to expect the immediate advance of the Monkey host. Virupaksha and Mahodara, two of Ravana's ministers utter a string of moral and political sentences. Ravana is not to be persuaded, but goes to Sita to try the effect of his personal solicitations--first endeavouring to deceive her by two fictitious heads, made to assume the likenesses of Rama and Lakshmana. Sita's lamentations are stopped by a heavenly monitor, who tells her that the heads are the work of magic and they instantly disappear. Ravana then vaunts his prowess in war and love, and approaches Sita to embrace her. She exclaims "Forbear, forbear! proud fiend, the jetty arms of my loved lord, or thy relentless sword, alone shall touch my neck." Thus repulsed, Ravana withdraws, and presently reappears as Rama, with his own ten heads in his hands. Sita, thinking him to be what he appears, is about to embrace him, when the secret virtue of her character as a faithful wife detects the imposition, and reveals the truth to her. Ravana, baffled and mortified, is compelled to relinquish his design. Sita's apprehensions, lest she should be again beguiled, are allayed by a voice from heaven, which announces that she will not see the real Rama until he has beheld Mandodari kiss the dead body of her husband Ravana. A female Rakhasi attempts to assassinate Rama, but is stopped and slain by Angada. The army then advances to Lanka, and Ravana comes forth to meet it. Kumbhakarna, his gigantic and sleepy brother, is disturbed from his repose to combat. He is rather out of humour at first, and recommends Ravana to give up the lady, observing: "Though the commands of royalty pervade the world, yet sovereigns ever should remember, the light of justice must direct their path." Ravana answers:-- "They who assist us with a holy text are but indifferent friends. These arms have wrested victory from the opposing grasp of gods and demons. Confiding in thy prowess, sure in thee to triumph over my foes, I have relaxed their fibre, but again their nerves are braced, I need thee not; hence to thy cell and sleep." Kumbhakarna replies:--"King, do not grieve, but like a valiant chief, pluck from thy heart all terror of thine enemies, and only deem of thy propitious fortunes, or who shall foremost plunge into the fight----I will not quit thee." Kumbhakarna's advance terrifies Rama's troops, whom the Kshatriya hero addresses thus: "Ho! chiefs and heroes, why this groundless panic, the prowess of our enemy untried in closer conflict? Ocean's myriad fry would drain the fountain, and before the swarm of hostile gnats the mighty lion falls." Kumbhakarna is killed by Rama; on which Indrajit, a son of Ravana, proceeds against the brethren. By the arrow called _Nagapasa_, presented him by Brahma, he casts Rama and Lakshmana senseless on the ground, and then goes to Nikumbhila mountain to obtain a magic car by means of sacrifice. Hanumana disturbs his rites. Rama and Lakshmana revive, and on being sprinkled with drops of amrita brought by Garura, the latter with a shaft decapitates Meghnada, and tosses the head into the hands of his father Ravana. Ravana levels a shaft at Lakshmana, given him by Brahma, and charged with the certain fate of one hero. Hanumana snatches it away, after it has struck Lakshmana, before it does mischief. Ravana reproaches Brahma, and he sends Nareda to procure the dart again and keep Hanumana out of the way. With the fatal weapon Lakshmana is left for dead. Rama despairs:-- "My soldiers shall find protection in their caves; I can die with Sita, but thou, Vibhishana, what shall become of thee?" Hanuman reappears and encourages him. Ravana has a celebrated physician, Sushena, who is brought away from Lanka in his sleep, and directs that a drug (_Vishalya_) from the Druhima mountain must be procured before morning, or Lakshmana will perish. This mountain is six millions of _Yojanas_ remote, but Hanuman undertakes to bring it bodily to Lanka, and call at Ayodhya on his way. He accordingly roots up the mountain, and is returning with it to Rama, via Ayodhya, when Bharata, who is employed in guarding a sacrifice made by Vasishtha, not knowing what to make of him, shoots Hanuman as he approaches. He falls exclaiming on Rama and Lakshmana, which leads Bharata to discover his mistake. Vasishtha restores the monkey who sets off for Lanka. On Hanuman's return, the medicament is administered, and Lakshman revives. An ambassador from Ravana comes and offers to give up Sita for the battle-axe of Parasurama, but this, Rama replies, must be reserved for Indra. On this refusal, Ravana goes forth after a brief dialogue with his queen Mandodari, who animates his drooping courage with the true spirit of the tribe to which she belongs. "Banish your sorrow, lord of Lanka, take one long and last embrace. We meet no more. Or give command, and by your side I march fearless to fight, for I too am a Kshatriya." The progress of Ravana through the air appals all Nature. The winds breathe low in timid murmurs through the rustling woods; the sun with slackened fires gleams pale abroad and the streams, relaxing from their rapid course, slowly creep along. Ravana defies Rama with great disdain and in derision of his modest demeanour, asks him whether he is not overcome with shame by the recollection of his ancestor, Anaranya, killed formerly by Ravana. Rama replies:-- "I am not ashamed my noble ancestor fell in the combat. The warrior seeks victory or death, and death is not disgrace. It ill befits thee to revile his fame. When vanquished, thou couldst drag out an abject life in great Haihaya's dungeons, till thy sire begged thee to freedom, as a matter of charity. For thee alone I blush, unworthy of my triumph." Ravana falls under the arrows of Rama. The heads, that once, sustained on Siva's breast, shone with heavenly splendour, now lie beneath the vulture's talons. Mandodari bewails the death of her husband. Sita is recovered, but Rama is rather shy of his bride, until her purity is established by her passing through the fiery ordeal: a test she successfully undergoes. Rama returns with Sita and his friends to Ayodhya, when Angada challenges them all to fight him, as it is now time to revenge his father's death. A voice from heaven, however, tells him to be pacified, as Bali will be born as hunter in a future age, and kill Rama, who will then be Krishna: he is accordingly appeased. Rama is now seated on the throne of Ayodhya. After some time, he orders the exile of Sita. ANERGHA RAGHAVA OR MURARI NATAKA. The sage Viswamitra comes to Dasaratha, the king of Ayodhya, to request the aid of his eldest son Rama. Each tries to outdo the other in complimentary speeches. The sage observes:-- "The monarch of the day invests the dawn with delegated rays to scatter night, and ocean sends his ministers the clouds, to shed his waters over the widespread earth." The king, taking counsel with himself, and being reminded by Vamadeva, one of his priests and preceptors, that the race of Raghu never sent away a petitioner ungratified, sends for Rama and Lakshmana, and allows Viswamitra to take them with him, to his hermitage, situated on the banks of the Kausiki or Coosy river, to protect him in his rites against the oppression of Taraka, a Rakshasi. The cry is heard that Taraka is abroad. Rama, after some hesitation about killing a female, slays her. Viswamitra now proposes that they should visit Mithila. The two princes are introduced to Janaka, the king of Mithila, who is urged by the sage to let Rama try to bend the bow of Siva. Sanshkala, the messenger of Ravana, the king of Lanka, now arrives to demand Sita in marriage for his master, refusing, at the same time, on his part, to submit to the test of bending the bow. The demand is refused. Rama tries his fortune, bends the bow and wins the lady. The family connection is extended by the promise of Urmila, Mandavi, and Srutakirti, to Rama's brothers. Sanshkala is highly indignant and carries the information to his master's minister Malyavan, who is disappointed on Ravana's account. Malyavan anticipates that Ravana will carry Sita off; and to render the attempt less perilous, projects inveighing Rama into the forests alone, for which he sends Surpanakha, the sister of Ravana, in the disguise of Manthara, the attendant of Kaukeyi. Parasurama then appears and boasts of his destruction of the Kshatriya race. Rama replies:--"This flag of your fame is now worn to tatters, let us see if you can mount a new one." Rama then calls for his bow, and Parasurama presents him with his axe. They go forth to fight. In the end, the two Ramas turn very excellent friends. Parasurama departs. Dasaratha now declares his purpose of relinquishing the kingdom entirely to his son Rama, Lakshmana announces the arrival of Manthara, and presents a letter from Kaikeyi, the purpose of which is to urge Dasaratha's fulfilment of his promise, and grant her as the two boons, the Coronation of Bharata, and banishment of Rama. The old king faints. Rama recommending his father to Janaka, departs for the forests, accompanied by Lakshmana and Sita. On their arrival in the forests, they are cordially received by Sugriva, the brother of Bali the king of the monkeys. Lakshmana carries on a dialogue with Ravana, disguised as a juggler. Jatayu, the king of birds, beholds Sita carried off by Ravana. He follows the ravisher. Rama and Lakshmana both express their grief. Lakshmana observes:-- "The worse the ill that Fate inflicts on noble souls, the more their firmness; and they arm their spirits with adamant to meet the blow." Rama replies:-- "The firmness I was born with or was reared to, and rage, that fills my heart, restrain my sorrows; but hard is the task to fit my soul to bear unmurmuringly a husband's shame." A cry of distress is now heard, and on looking out, the youths observe Guha, the friendly forest monarch, assailed by the demon Kabandha, or a fiend without a head. Lakshmana goes to his aid, and returns with his friend Guha. In the act of delivering him, Lakshmana tosses away the skeleton of Dundubhi, a giant, suspended by Bali, who, deeming this an insult, presently appears. After a prolix interchange of civility and defiance, Rama and Bali resolve to determine their respective supremacy by single combat. Bali is slain. His brother Sugriva is inaugurated as king and determines to assist Rama to recover Sita. A bridge is built over the sea. Rama's army advance to Lanka. Kumbhakarna, a brother of Ravana, and Meghanada, a son of Ravana, go forth to battle. Malyavan wishes them prosperity in a phrase perfectly oracular. They are slain. Ravana now takes the field himself. Malyavan resolves to follow him and resign, on the sword, a life now useless to his sovereign. The king is overthrown. Sita is recovered. Rama with his wife and brother, accompanied by Vibhishana, the brother of Ravana, and Sugriva, mounts the celestial car, which was once wrested by Ravana from his brother Kuvera, and sets out to proceed to Ayodhya. On the way the travellers descry the Sumeru mountain, the Malaya mountain, the Dandaka forest, the mountain Prasravana, the Godaveri river, mount Malyavan, Kundinipura in the Maharashtra country, the shrine of Bhimeswara, the city of Kanchi, Ujayin, the temple of Mahakala, Mahishmati the capital of Chedi, the Jumna and Ganga rivers, Varanasi, Mithila or Tirhut, and Champa near Bhagalpur. They then proceed westward to Prayaga, and Antarvedi or Doab, when they again follow an easterly course and arrive at Ayodhya. Bharata, Satrughna, Vasishtha the priest and the people of Ayodhya await the arrival of the party and receive them most cordially. Rama is now crowned king. VENI SAMVARANA OR VENI SANHARA OR "THE BINDING OF THE BRAID OF HAIR." Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas, is dragged by the _veni_ or braid of hair into the public assembly by the hand of Duhsasana, one of the Kaurava princes, a disgrace that weighs most heavily upon the Pandavas, who contemplate most bitter revenge. Krishna returns to the Pandava camp from a visit to the Kaurava princes, as a mediator between the contending chiefs. Ferocious Bhima expresses, to his brother Sahadeva, his refusal to have any share in the negotiations instituted by Krishna and his determination to make no peace with the enemy until the insult offered to Draupadi is avenged. He announces his resolution, in case the dispute be amicably adjusted, to disclaim all connection with his own brothers, and throw off obedience to Judhishthira. The price of peace is the demand of five villages or towns, Indraprastha, Tilaprastha, Mansadam, Varanavatam, and another. Sahadeva attempts to calm the fury of Bhima, but in vain; and Draupadi, with her hair still dishevelled, and pining over her ignominious treatment, comes to inflame his resentment. She complains also of a recent affront offered by Bhanumati, the queen of Duryodhana, in an injurious comment upon her former exposure, which serves to widen the breach. Krishna's embassy is unsuccessful, and he effects his return only by employing his divine powers against the enemy. All the chiefs are summoned by the trumpet to prepare for battle. Before day-break, Bhanumati repeats, to her friend and an attendant, a dream in which she has beheld a _Nakula_ or Mungoose destroy a hundred snakes. This is very ominous, _Nakula_ being one of the Pandavas, and the sons of Kuru amounting to a hundred. Duryodhana overhears part of the story, and at first imagines the hostile prince is the hero of the vision. He is about to burst upon her, full of rage, and when he catches the true import of the tale, he is at first disposed to be alarmed by it, but at last wisely determines to disregard it. For, by Angira it is sung, the aspect of the planets, dreams and signs, meteors and portents, are the sports of accident, and do not move the wise. Bhanumati offers an _arghya_ of sandal and flowers to the rising sun to avert the ill omen, and then the king appears and soothes her. Their dialogue is disturbed by a rising whirlwind from which they take shelter in a neighbouring pavilion. The mother of Jayadratha, the king of Sindhu, then appears, and apprises Duryodhana that Arjuna has vowed, if sunset finds Jayadratha alive, he will sacrifice himself in the flames. His wrath is especially excited by the death of his son Abhimanyu, in which that chieftain had borne a leading part. Duryodhana laughs at her fears and those of his wife, and despises the resentment of the Pandavas. He observes, that this was fully provoked by the treatment which Draupadi received by his command, when in the presence of the court and of the Pandavas, she called out in vain for mercy. Duryodhana then orders his war-chariot and goes forth to the battle. Up to the period of the contest, the following chiefs have fallen, Bhagadatta, Sindhuraja, Angadhipa, Drupada, Bhurisravas, Somadatta, and Bahlika. Ghatotkacha is also slain, and Bhima is about to avenge his fall, on which account Hirimba, the queen of the Rakshasas and mother of Ghatotkacha, has ordered goblins to be ready to assist Bhimasena. Drona is seized by Dhrishtadyumna and slain. Aswatthama, the son of Drona, appears armed and is overtaken by his father's charioteer who tells him of the treachery by which Drona was slain, having been induced to throw away his arms by a false report that his son Aswatthama had perished, and been then killed at a disadvantage. Aswatthama's distress is assuaged by his maternal uncle Kripa, who recommends him to solicit the command of the host from Duryodhana. In the meantime, proud Kerna, the friend and ally of Duryodhana, fills the mind of the Kuru chief with impressions hostile to Drona and his son, persuading him that Drona only fought to secure Aswatthama's elevation to royal dignity, and that he threw away his life, not out of grief, but in despair at the disappointment of his ambitious schemes. Kripa and Aswatthama now arrive and Duryodhana professes to condole with Aswatthama for his father's loss. Kerna sneeringly asks him what he purposes, to which he replies:-- "Whoever confident in arms is ranked amongst the adverse host--whomever the race of proud Panchala numbers, active youth, weak age or unborn babes, whoever beheld my father's murder, or whoever dares to cross my path, shall fall before my vengeance. Dark is my sight with rage, and Death himself, the world's destroyer, should not escape my fury." Kripa then requests Duryodhana to give the command of the army to Aswatthama. The king excuses himself on the plea of having promised it to Kerna, to whom he transfers his ring accordingly. A violent quarrel ensues between Kerna and Aswatthama, and Duryodhana and Kripa have some difficulty in preventing them from single combat. Fiery Aswatthama at last reproaches Duryodhana with partiality, and refuses to fight for him more. Bhima proclaims that he has at last encountered Duhsasana, the insulter of Draupadi, and is about to sacrifice him to his vengeance. Kerna, instigated by Aswatthama, foregoes his anger and is about to resume his arms when a voice from heaven prevents him. He is obliged, therefore, to remain an idle spectator of the fight, but desires Kripa to assist the king. They go off to fight. Duhsasana is killed and the army of the Kauravas is put to the rout. Duryodhana is wounded and becomes insensible. On his recovery, he hears of Duhsasana's death and gives vent to his sorrows. In the conflict between Arjuna and Vrishasena, the son of Kerna, the young prince is slain to his father's distress. Sundaraka, a follower of Kerna, brings a leaf on which Kerna has written to Duryodhana, with an arrow dipped in his own blood, message for aid. Duryodhana orders his chariot, and prepares to seek the fight again, when he is prevented by the arrival of his parents, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, who with Sanjaya, endeavour to prevail upon Duryodhana to sue for peace, but he refuses. A tumult and the entrance of the king's charioteer announce the death of Kerna. Duryodhana, after expressing his grief, determines to go and avenge him, and mount the car of Sanjaya, the charioteer of Dhritarashtra, for that purpose, when Arjuna and Bhima arrive in search of him. On finding the seniors there, Arjuna purposes to withdraw; but Bhima insists on first addressing them, which they do, but in insulting terms. Dhritarashtra, reproaching them for this language, is told they use it not in pride, but in requital of his having witnessed, without interfering to prevent, the oppression and barbarous treatment the Pandavas experienced from his sons. Duryodhana interferes and defies Bhima, who is equally anxious for the combat; but Arjuna prevents it, and the brothers are called off by a summons from Yudhishthira, who orders the battle to cease for the day and the dead bodies of either party to be burnt. Aswatthama is now disposed to be reconciled to Duryodhana; but the prince receives his advances coldly, and he withdraws in disgust. Dhritarashtra sends Sanjaya after him to persuade him to overlook Duryodhana's conduct. Duryodhana mounts his car, and the aged couple seek the tent of Salya, the king of Madra. Duryodhana is discovered concealed in a swamp, and compelled to fight with Bhimasena, by whom he is slain. Yudhisthira orders public rejoicings on the occasion. Charvaka, a Rakshasa disguised as a sage, then enters, requiring rest and water. He relates that he has seen Arjuna engaged with Duryodhana, Bhima having been previously slain by the latter, and gives his hearers to understand that Arjuna also has fallen. Draupadi determines to mount the funeral pile, and Yudhishthira, to put an end to himself when the Rakshasa, satisfied with the success of his scheme, which was intended to prevail on this couple to perish, departs. The pile is prepared, and Yudhishthira and Draupadi are about to sacrifice themselves, when they are disturbed by a great clamour. Supposing it to precede the approach of Duryodhana, Yudhishthira calls for his arms, when Bhima, his club besmeared with blood, rushes in. Draupadi runs away; he catches her by the hair, and is seized by Yudhishthira--on which the mistake is discovered. The braid of Draupadi's hair is now again bound up. Arjuna and Vasudeva arrive, and announce that they have heard of the fraud of Charvaka. On hearing that the mendicant is slain by Nakula, Krishna expresses great satisfaction. CHANDA KAUSIKA OR THE OFFENDED VISWAMITRA. Maharaja Harischandra, a scion of the solar race, a powerful king, endowed with uncommon virtues and skilled in all arts, sees a vision of misfortune to come. Apprehending future evils for his subjects, he confers with his priest, and acting on his advice, spends a whole night in religious contemplation in a temple of God. Next morning the king enters the inner apartments of his palace to greet his wife. The queen, who is jealous on account of his absence during the night, says to him, "Oh! I see your eyes are red for want of sleep. The sight is not uninteresting; only, I am being consumed with the fires of agony of mind." The king, on hearing this, smiles and says, "Oh my dear queen! do not be angry. Be assured, you have no rival in Harischandra's affections". The queen is not altogether satisfied with this assurance, for love is suspicious. Just then, a messenger comes to request permission to bring in a hermit who is standing at the door. The permission is granted and the hermit enters. Addressing the King, he says, "The family priest has sent you some holy water, which will bring you peace of mind and ward off the evils for fear of which he made you keep up a whole night." The king and the queen thankfully accept the water. The hermit retires. The queen, now learning from the hermit the cause of her husband's absence from her, and of his wakefulness all night, becomes ashamed of herself and asks her lord's pardon for the false insinuation she had made. On this he kisses the queen. Again, the king goes on a hunting expedition. Hunting is a favourite pastime with kings. It promotes health and courage and gives immense pleasure to all who engage in it. When the king enters a thick forest, he finds the great sage Viswamitra deeply engaged in religious austerities with the view of acquiring the three unattainable arts of creation, preservation and destruction, which properly belong to Brahma, Vishnu and Siva respectively. The gods plot to prevent this consummation, and send a servant named Bighna. Bighna assumes the form of a boar and appears before the king. The king discharges an arrow at him, but in vain. The animal enters the thick forest. The king follows. It now enters the hermitage of Viswamitra. The king addresses his followers thus, "It is the duty of kings to get rid of carnivorous animals from the forest of meditation and austerities. I have, on the contrary, made a carnivorous animal enter it. How can I now retire? But the hermits will be disturbed in their religious exercises if you all enter. So, do you all wait here. I will proceed alone." With these observations, the king enters the forest of meditation and is charmed with its exquisite beauty. The king thinks, "Tearing off the bonds of the world is the cause of hermits' ease and happiness. With no attachments, no desires, no bereavements, no worldly anxieties, they are happily absorbed in divine contemplation." The king is thinking thus when distant cries are heard, as if females are crying out, "Maharaja Harischandra! save us! save us! Save us from the fire-place of this mighty hermit. We three helpless women are being burnt up." At this, the king is at a loss. His heart melts at the tender cries of the women. He extinguishes the flame with his weapon dedicated to Varuna, the god of the waters. The three ladies are the three arts of creation, preservation and destruction. They, thus delivered, go away to Heaven, showering blessings of victory on their deliverer. The meditations of the dreadful sage Viswamitra are thus broken off. His eyes are red with anger. Seeing Harischandra standing before him he cries out, "Oh wretch of a Kshattriya! I will burn you up as Siva did the god of love." The king is at a loss. He trembles as a plantain tree tossed up by tempest. He touches the feet of the sage and most piteously begs pardon of him. But the sage is obdurate. He will not be appeased. He is about to consume the offender with imprecation. The Raja again and again implores him thus:-- "My lord Kausika! Forgive me. I was touched by the piteous appeals of the women and disturbed you for the sake of duty." At this, the sage becomes still more furious and says trembling, "O Villain! speak of duty! What is your duty?" The king replies, "O god! gifts to virtuous Brahmans, protection of those afflicted with fear, and fight with enemies are the three chief duties of Kshattriyas." The sage thereupon observes, "If compliance with duties be your aim, make some gift to me commensurate with my merit." The king replies, "Oh great sage! what have I got with which to make a due gift to you? I am prepared to give you what I have----this world with all its wealth. Please accept it." Then the sage becomes calm and says, "Be it so. I will not burn you up. I accept your gift of a kingdom. Now that you have made a gift, give me a fee of one thousand gold coins, commensurate with the gift. I will not accept the gift without the fee. But as you have made a gift of the world with all its wealth, you must not take the fee-money out of that world. Collect the money elsewhere." At this, the king is in a fix. After much thought it strikes him that it is said in the scriptures that Benares is separate from the world. So he resolves to collect money from that holy city. Then the king placing the crown and the sceptre of royalty at the feet of the sage, obtains from him one month's time to pay the fee and taking the queen Saibya and his son Rohitasya with him, starts for Benares. The month allowed him is drawing to a close. Not a single gold coin has been collected--to say nothing of one thousand coins. Alms is the only way of collection. Alms barely suffices for maintenance. On the morning of the last day, when he is deeply anxious for the money, the sage arrives. Seeing the latter, he almost faints. The sage whirls his eyes and asks, "Oh Harischandra! where is my fee? Pay at once, or I will burn you up." He replies in piteous and trembling tones, "The month will be completed by sunset. Please wait till sunset." The sage observes, "I will not listen to any more of your prevarications. I cannot grant your request." The king cries and repeatedly entreats the sage to wait till sunset. At this the queen and his son both weep. After many entreaties, the sage consents. Then the king again goes out a-begging, but in vain. Then he resolves to sell his person and goes about hawking himself in the streets. No one responds to his efforts. No buyer appears. At this time, a Brahmin with a disciple, asks whether a male or a female slave is for sale and intimates that he requires a female slave. The queen wipes her eyes and replies, "Yes, a female slave is for sale for fifty thousand gold coins. I, who am for sale as such, will obey all orders except eating table-refuse and indulging in improper intimacy with males." The Brahmin consents to the terms laid down, pays the required sum into the hands of the king and takes away the queen. The king then bewails her thus:-- "It were far better if a thousand thunderbolts had fallen on my head. Oh my dear queen! Never even in a dream did I think that such a misfortune would befall you. You mistook a poisonous tree for a sandal-tree. Oh, how hard is my heart! It does not melt at the sight of my wife sold away as a slave. Even iron is melted by fire. Oh Providence! I can no longer bear up my sorrows. Oh Indra I break my head in pieces by thy thunderbolts." At this lamentation of the king, all present become sorry and express their regrets. After a little while, the sage arrives again, his body emitting sparks of fire. Seeing him at a distance, the king begins to tremble. As the sage comes up, the king bows to him and says, "My lord Kausika! I have procured only a half of your fee by the sale of my wife. Accept it. I shall presently pay the remaining half by the sale of my own person." The sage whirls his eyes and exclaims, "Is it a joke? Am I a fit object for a joke? What shall I do with only half the money? Just pay down the whole amount. See the sun is setting." The king replies, "O God! if this does not satisfy you, I pray you wait a little. If a Chandal is available, I will sell my person to him and pay your fee." The sage remarks:-- "Then I will stand here and wait. Collect the money without delay." The king then hawks himself about, "Will any one buy me with half a lakh of gold coins, and deliver me from an ocean of sorrows." No one responds to his offer. No buyer appears. The sun is about to set. Death stares him in the face. Not that he fears death. Why should he fear it? He has given away his kingdom. His queen has been sold. Life has no further attraction for him. Death has been stripped of its terrors. But death by the fire of a Brahmin's anger leads to everlasting hell. He sees the vision of hell, falls down on the ground like a plantain tree blown by a tempest, and faints. Virtue preserves him who practises virtue. Virtue assumes the form of a Chandal and accompanied by an attendant, makes his appearance, with a half-burnt bamboo on his shoulders and a chain of skeletons round his neck. He is ready to buy the king, who now weeps bitterly, and holding the feet of the sage, entreats him thus:-- "Oh lord Kausika! Do me a favour I pray you. Do not sell me to a Chandal. Do _you_ rather buy me. I shall be your slave for ever." On this, the sage flies into a rage and exclaims:-- "Oh villain! Do not trifle with me. You have all this time been pretending that you want buyers. As soon as a buyer appears in the field, you feel ashamed to be sold to a Chandal! I cannot brook any more delay. I take up water to destroy you." The king begs his pardon, sells himself to the Chandal and pays down the fee to the sage, who then retires. The king now puts on the dress of a Chandal and is appointed with two others to collect rags in a burning-ground. Hideous is the burning-ground. Dogs and jackals are tearing up carcasses which lie scattered all round. Vultures are quarrelling among themselves. These sights unloosen the bonds that bind him to the world. The king is trembling with fear. His two colleagues have left him. But he will not leave his station. He must do his duty. The night deepens. The burning-ground becomes still more hideous. To try the king's sense of duty, Virtue once more becomes incarnate and this time appears before the king in a horrible form. The king has never before seen such a terrible sight, but still he will not leave his station. Not one or two but myriads of such forms dance before him, but in vain. The king exclaims, "No one shall be allowed to burn any corpse without depositing rags and couches with me. I am the agent of the lord of this burning-ground. I make this proclamation by order of my lord." No one responds. No voice is heard; only horrible figures are seen playing around him. After a while, a hermit comes and says. "I am a hermit. I have resolved to practise some _mantras_. I have come to know everything about you by my powers of _yoga_. You are a king and you should protect me from the demons that disturb my meditations." The king most humbly submits, "My body is not my own; I have sold it to the lord of the Chandals. How can I forsake my duty to my lord to save you?" The hermit says, "come and help me if I ever suffer extreme distress." The king replies, "If I can ever help you without detriment to the business of my lord, I am ready to do it." The hermit retires, and after a short time he returns; and says, "By your help I am now versed in all _mantras_. I am prepared to give you such a mantra as by its virtue you will be able at once to repair to Heaven. You need not suffer hell by slavery to a Chandal." The king replies, "Many thanks for your kind offer. But how can I accept your offer as this body belongs to a Chandal? I will not go anywhere before death." The hermit says, "Then take this money and deliver your wife." The king thankfully declines the offer with the observation, "I have sold my queen in my hour of need. To buy her back is not in my power." The hermit soliloquizes, "Blessed is Maharaja Harischandra! What fortitude! what wisdom! what generosity! what a sense of duty! The world has never produced a nobler man. A tempest shakes even the mountains, but behold! this noblest specimen of humanity is not moved by the severest of afflictions! It is morning. The birds are singing. The sun is up in the horizon. The king is sitting on the banks of the Ganges. He is thinking of his fate when he hears a female voice crying. He approaches the lady. The scene is horrible. An unfortunate lady, the queen Saibya who had been deserted by her husband, has come to burn her son, the support of her life. She was serving as a slave in the house of the Brahmin who had bought her. Her son Rohitashya, was stung by a deadly poisonous snake. No body would help her. She has come to the burning-ground to burn the dead body of her son. The queen weeps and faints. The king stares at the face of the corpse for a long time and at last recognises his dead son. He too faints. After a long time he recovers, and finds that the queen also has recovered. He thinks of committing suicide, but the body is not his own. He thinks of pacifying the queen by introducing himself, but his present costume will perhaps aggravate her sorrows. The queen, looking up to the skies, exclaims; "It is high time for me to return to the house of my master. I forget I am a slave. My master will be angry if I am late. My husband will incur blame if my master is angry. Let me go at once." The king reflects, "If my queen is so mindful of her duties to her master in the midst of such calamities, I must never forget my duty to my master." Then he approaches the queen and addresses her thus:-- "Who are you? You are not allowed to burn the corpse before you give up its clothes to me, the slave of the lord of this place." She replies, "Please wait a little. I will take off the clothes." As the queen delivers the clothes into the hands of the slave, she notices signs of royalty in his hands and is surprised that such a hand is engaged in so low an office. "She looks attentively and exclaims in a wild voice, Oh my lord! Oh Maharaja! you a slave in this burning-ground! Oh lord Kausika! are you not yet satisfied?" The queen rushes to embrace the king. The king starts away from her and forbids her saying, "Oh my queen! do not touch me, I am the slave of a Chandal. Be patient." She faints again. The king cannot touch her as he is in the garb of a Chandal. After a while, the queen recovers, and the king addresses her thus:-- "Oh my lady! Abandon lamentations. It is useless to lament. All this is the result of work in previous lives. I will prepare a funeral pyre. Apply the sacrament of fire to the dead body and return at once to the house of your master." The queen is disconsolate and wants to remain with her husband, who explains the situation thus:--"You have no right to remain here. Do not forget that your person has been sold to the Brahmin." The queen understands and sighs. All on a sudden, flowers are showered on their heads from Heaven, and musical voices are heard on high proclaiming. "Blessed is Maharaja Harischandra; Blessed is Rani Shaibya! unrivalled in this world is the liberality, the patience, the resolution and the wisdom of the king. No nobler man can be found in the three worlds." The king and the queen stare motionless towards the Heavens. Now virtue assumes the form of a hermit and makes this address. "Victory to Maharaja Harischandra! You have astonished the world, I am virtue incarnate. Virtue is never vain. As you have stuck to me all along, I must reward you. I will send you to the heaven of _Brahma_, where the greatest kings cannot enter by their truth, charity, straightforwardness and sacrifices. You need not lament any more. Be patient. By my blessing, your son Rohitashya will instantly regain life". Rohitashya now starts up. Then the king perceives, in clear vision acquired by the blessings of Virtue, that lord Kausika, in order to try his virtue, deprived him of his kingdom and placed the government in the hands of his own minister. The Chandal, who is his master, is not a real character but virtue incarnate. The Brahmin and his wife, who were the master and mistress of the queen, were not ordinary persons. The Brahmin was Siva, the god of gods, incarnate. The Brahmani was the goddess Durga incarnate. By order of virtue, the king and queen annoint, on the banks of the Ganges, Rohitashya as king-associate or Yuvaraja, and return to the capital, amidst the wild rejoicings of the subjects. After a short stay there, the happy couple repair to the heaven of _Brahma_. MADHURANIRUDDHA. The secret loves of Usha, the daughter of the Asura Bana, and Aniruddha, the grandson of Krishna, are intense. The sage Nareda apprises Krishna and Balarama, that Indra is again in dread of the demons, and especially of Bana, who has acquired the particular favour of Siva, and who is therefore not to be easily subdued. The conference ends by Nareda's going to Sonapur, the capital of the demon, to endeavour to impair the friendship between Bana and Siva, whilst Krishna and his brother await the result. The excessive arrogance of Bana, in his anxiety to match himself with Vishnu, has offended the latter, who has accordingly departed for Kailas, after announcing that Bana's anxiety shall be alleviated whenever his banner falls. Parvati has also gone to Kailas, after announcing to Usha that she will shortly behold her lover. Usha is impatient for the boon conferred by the goddess. Aniruddha is violently enamoured of a damsel he has seen in his sleep, and despairs of discovering who she is, when Nareda comes opportunely to his aid, and informs him that she is the daughter of Bana; on which Aniruddha determines to go to his capital, first propitiating Jwalamukhi by penance, in order to obtain the means of entering a city surrounded by a wall of perpetual flame. The goddess is the form of Durga, worshipped wherever a subterraneous flame breaks forth, or wherever jets of carburetted hydrogen gas are emitted from the soil. Bana's banner has fallen. His minister and wife endeavour to prevail on him to propitiate Siva, in order to avert the evil omen, but he refuses. Bringi, a servant of Durga, precedes Aniruddha to prepare the goddess to grant his request. As he proceeds in his aerial car, he notices the countries of Orissa, Bengal, Behar, Oude or Ayodhya, Prayaga, Hastinapur or Delhi and Kurujangal or Tahneser, whence he comes to Jwalamukhi. Aniruddha repairs to the shrine of the goddess round which goblins sport, and upon the point of offering himself as a sacrifice, is prevented by the goddess and receives from her the power of travelling through the air. Usha and Chitralekha, her companion, receive a visit from Nareda, in whose presence the latter unfolds a picture containing portraits of all the chief characters in Swerga, Patala, and on earth, or Indra, and other gods; Sesha, Takshaka and the Nagas, and different princes, as the kings of Magadha, Mathura, Avanti, Madra, Mahishmati, and Viderbha, Yudhishthira, Krishna, Baladeva, Pradyumna, and finally Aniruddha, whom Usha recognizes as the individual seen in her dream, and of whom she is enamoured. Nareda recommends that Chitralekha be sent to Dwaravati to invite Aniruddha, whom he enables to fly thither, whilst he remains in charge of Usha, whom he sends to the garden to await her lover's arrival. Aniruddha and Chitralekha arrive at Sonapur and the former is united to his mistress. Aniruddha is detected by Bana. An engagement ensues. Krishna, Baladeva, and Pradyumna coming to the aid of the prince, the day is going ill with Bana, when Kartikeya, Ganesha, and Siva and Chandi come to his succour. Notwithstanding the presence of his allies, Bana has all his thousand arms cut off by Krishna except four. Siva advances to the aid of his votary, when a combat ensues between the gods which combat Brahma descends to arrest. The gods embrace one another. Parvati and Brahma support Bana to make his submission. Vishnu declares he is less sensible of the wounds inflicted by Bana, than of the regret he feels at his presumption in contending with Siva. The latter consoles him by telling him he only did a warrior's duty, and that military prowess is independent of all motives of love or hatred. Parvati then brings Usha to the spot, and by her desire, and that of Siva, Bana gives his daughter to Aniruddha. Siva then elevates him to the rank of one of his attendants, under the name of Mahakala. SRIDAMA CHARITA. Poverty and Folly are sent by Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, to assail Sridama, the early companion and fellow-student of Krishna, who has become obnoxious to the goddess for his attachment to Saraswati; the goddess of learning. They effect their purpose with Sridama, by demanding the rites of hospitality, and being accordingly admitted into his dwelling. Sridama is persuaded by his wife, Vasumati, who has seen a propitious dream, to repair to Krishna, to see if his opulent friend will restore his broken fortunes. He takes with him a handful of rice, dried and cleaned after boiling, as a present. He arrives at the palace of Krishna, where he is received with great respect by the host and his two principal wives, Rukmini and Satyabhama; the former washes his feet, the latter wipes them, and Krishna sprinkles the remaining water upon his own head. After recalling some of the occurrences of their juvenile days, when they were fellow-students, Krishna leads his friend into the garden, where they remain till towards sunset; when they are summoned to join the queens and their attendants. Krishna indulges in frolics among his women. The buffoonery of the Vidushaka amuses the party. After some time spent in this manner, Sridama takes his leave, and although dismissed with great reverence, departs as poor as he came. He recollects this on his way back, and consoles himself with observing that wealth intoxicates as well as wine, and that the affection of Krishna is a thing which no one can steal from him. His disciple is not so submissive, and reminds him that it was not to get mere civility that he was sent on this errand by his wife. On arrival, they find, instead of the miserable hovel of Sridama, a splendid and extensive town, and that Sridama is in great affliction at the disappearance of his wife, when he is seen and solicited by a _Kanchuli_ or chamberlain, who calls himself his servant, to enter a stately palace. Sridama, thinking this is a jest upon his poverty, threatens to beat him if he does not depart, but the chamberlain perseveres, and tells him that while he was absent, Krishna had converted his cottage into a town, named after him Sridamapur, and supplied it with every article of use or luxury. With much reluctance and unyielding incredulity Sridama is prevailed upon to enter the palace, where he finds his wife. Krishna now comes to pay a visit to his friend. He arrives in his aerial chariot, accompanied by Satyabhama and the Vidushaka. His bounties are heartily acknowledged by the object on whom they have been bestowed. KANSA BADHA OR THE DESTRUCTION OF KANSA. Kansa, the king of Mathura, alarmed by a voice from heaven, that Krishna, the son of his sister, predestined to destroy him, has escaped the precautions taken against him, consults with his minister what he shall do. The juvenile Krishna performs many exploits. He accomplishes the destruction of the demon Kesi, one of those infernal beings who in vain attempted to kill the divine child, instigated by their prescience of their fate when he should reach maturity. Akrura, the paternal uncle of Krishna, repairs to Gokul to invite his nephew to Mathura. Balarama and Krishna, after bowing to their foster parents, Nanda and Yasoda and receiving their benedictions, depart for Mathura. The seniors then express their grief for their loss. While the boys are proceeding on their journey, they are overtaken by a messenger from Radha, in consequence of which Krishna determines to spend some time at Vrindavan. They resume their journey to Mathura. On the way, the youths kill the royal elephant of Kansa. Then they defeat and slay Kansa's two wrestlers Chanura and Mushtika. These occurrences are reported to Kansa. The youths now reach his palace at Mathura and slay him. The boys are then re-united with their mortal parents Vasudeva and Devaki. To console Devaki for her brother's death, Krishna installs her father Ugrasena in the sovereignty of Mathura. YAYATI CHARITRA. Sermishtha was the daughter of Vrishaperva, king of the Daityas, and Devayani, the daughter of Sukra, regent of the planet Venus and the spiritual preceptor of the Daitya race. Devayani having incurred the displeasure of Sermishtha the latter threw the former into a well, where she was found by king Yayati, the son of Nahusha. Devayani, on returning to her father, excited his anger against Vrishaperva, who, to appease Sukra, consented to give his daughter to Devayani as her servant, with a thousand other female attendants. Devayani was married to Yayati. At the time of her marriage, Sukra obtained the king's promise that he would never associate with Sermishtha; but after some interval, the king meeting her, fell in love with, and espoused, her privately. The intrigue continued secret, until Yayati had two sons by Devayani and three by Sermishtha, when it was discovered by the former, and excited her resentment as well as that of her father. The violation of the king's promise was punished by premature decay, as denounced upon him by Sukra, with permission, however, to transfer his infirmities to anyone who would acccept them. Yayati appealed to his sons; of whom the youngest alone, Puru, consented to assume the burden. After a sufficient period, Yayati took his decrepitude back again, and left the sovereignty to Puru in reward of his filial piety. All the sons of Yayati were the founders of distinguished families. The Pauravas were the descendants of Puru in whose line the Kaurava and the Pandava families were comprised. KAUTUKA SERVASWA. Kalivatsala, or the darling of the age of iniquity, is the sovereign of Dhermanasa or the destruction of virtue, and he takes as his spiritual guide, Kukermapanchanana, the Siva of iniquity. Satyacharya, a pious Brahman returned from Brindavan, who is treated by the king and his courtiers with great iniquity, holds the following conversation with his brethren in jail. Satyacharya says: "How now, holy sirs, how fares it with you?" The Brahmans in jail reply: "We once had lands in free gifts." Satyacharya asks, "What then?" The Brahmans answer: "why, know you not the customs of the country? If the god of wealth owned lands here that yielded but a grain of corn, the king would send him in three days to beg alms, clad in tatters and with a platter in his hand. The characteristics of our sovereign are fondness for the intoxicating juice of _bhang_, esteem for the wicked, addiction to vice, and detestation of virtue." Satyacharya observes: "You are right, what chance is there for the good? The king is unwise, his associates are wicked, his chief councillor is a knave, and his minister, a scoundrel. Yet the people are many; why is not such misconduct resented?" The Brahmans reply, "The manners of the people are equally depraved; they are valiant in oppression, skilful in falsehood, and persevering only in contempt for the pious." Satyacharya asks, "How are the scribes?" The Brahmans answer, "They collect the revenues by any expedient, and vigilantly inflict penalties on the wise. The Brahmans are not allowed to keep even the dust upon their bodies; the dust accumulated on their feet is claimed by the Kayeths. What can we say of this reign? The dumb alone can speak the truth, the deaf hear the law, the sons of the barren are well-behaved, the blind behold the observance of the scriptures. Our lands have been given to drunkards, and we are detained in prison for what our ancestors expended." Satyacharya observes, "I have heard enough. Better fortunes attend you." The general Samara Jambuka, the jackal of war, boasts that he can cleave a roll of butter with his falchion. He trembles from top to toe at the approach of a mosquito. The king orders vice to be proclaimed virtue by beat of drum. All the Brahmans are perpetually banished. PRACHANDA PANDAVA OR THE OFFENDED SONS OF PANDU OR BALA BHARATA. Draupadi is married to the five sons of Pandu, in compliance with the command of their mother. Yudhishthira, the eldest son of Pandu, loses every thing including Draupadi at chess-play with Duryodhana, the eldest of the Kauravas. Draupadi is now dragged by the hair, almost naked, into the public assembly, an insult in revenge for which ferocious Bhima vows to slay Duhsasana, the insulter, and drink his blood, and ultimately fulfils his vow. The Pandava princes then depart to the forest. PROBODHA CHANDRODAYA OR "RISE OF THE MOON OF (TRUE) KNOWLEDGE." Religion and the noble king Reason, accompanied by all the Virtues namely Faith, Volition, Opinion, Imagination, Contemplation, Devotion, Quietude, Friendship and others, are banished, from Benares, by the evil king Error who reigns at Benares, surrounded by his faithful adherents, the Follies and Vices namely Self-conceit, Hypocrisy, Love, Passion, Anger, Avarice and others. There is, however, a prophecy that Reason will some day be re-united with Revelation; the fruit of the union will be True Knowledge, that will destroy the reign of Error. The struggle for this union and its consummation are followed by the final triumph of the good party. NAGANANDA OR JOY OF THE SERPENTS. Jimutavahana, a prince of the Vidyadharas, is a Buddhist. He marries Malayavati, daughter of the king of the Siddhas, a votary of the goddess Gauri, the wife of the great god Siva. When he comes to know that Garuda, the bird celebrated in mythology, is used to eat up one snake each day, he makes up his mind to offer himself to the bird as a victim, and eventually succeeds in converting Garuda to the principle of _Ahimsa_ or abstention from slaughter; but he himself is on the point of succumbing to the wounds he has received, when, through the timely intervention of the goddess Gouri, he recovers. DUTANGADA OR THE MISSION OF ANGADA. Angada, the son of Bali, is sent by Rama to Ravana to demand Sita. He executes his mission in a most clever and courageous manner. He then departs from Lanka. Ravana now goes forth to battle and is slain by Rama. The divine hero then enters the city of Lanka in triumph. PRADYUMNA VIJAYA. A pair of geese, the _Hansa_ and _Hansi_ inspire Prabhavati, the daughter of Vajranabha, and Pradyumna, the son of Krishna with a mutual passion before they have beheld each other. By their contrivance, secret nuptials are brought about. The sage Nareda communicates the stolen interviews of the lovers to the father of the damsel, to whose vengeance Pradyumna is about to fall a victim, when Krishna and Baladeva with their followers come to the rescue. A combat ensues in which Vajranabha is defeated and slain. The engagement is seen by two Gandherbas from their chariots in the air. VIDAGDHA MADHAVA. The loves of Krishna and Radha are intense. The two lovers often engage in jealous squabbles. Chandravali, a nymph of Vrindavan, is enamoured of Krishna and thus excites the jealousy of Radha. The Paurnamasi, the personified day of the full moon, interests herself in the union of Krishna and Radha. DHANANYAYA VIJAYA. The cattle of king Virat are carried off by Karna and the Kuru princes. Aryuna recovers them after a great battle. The different chiefs appear, threaten one another and praise themselves. Indra and some of his attendants contemplate the fight from the clouds. HASYARNAVA. The king Anasayindhu, in his progress through his city, regrets to find everything subverted: that Chandals, not Brahmans, make shoes; that wives are chaste and husbands constant; and that respect is paid to the respectable, not to the vile; and that Vyadhisindhu, the doctor, cures the cholic by applying a heated needle to the palate, and perforates the pupils of the eyes in order to restore vision. Sadhhinsaka, the chief of police, reports with great satisfaction that the city is completely in the hands of thieves; the Commander-in-chief Ranajambuka, after putting on his armour, valiantly cuts a leech in two. Mahayatrika, the astrologer, in answer to a question of the time to take a journey, indicates hours and positions which proclaim approaching death. A dispute ensues between Viswabhanda, a Saiva mendicant, and Kalahankura, his disciple, which they refer to the decision of Mahanindaka, another Brahman, who asserts that he composed the _vedas_ and visited _Swerga_, where he treated Vrihaspati and Brahma with contempt and gave Siva a drubbing. CHITRA YAJNA. Daksha, the father of Sati or Bhavani and father-in-law of the great god Siva, institutes a great sacrifice. The gods and sages assemble on the occasion, Daksha accords them a cordial reception. He bows down to the feet of the gods, and puts the dust from under them upon his head. He then proceeds to the place of sacrifice, reading or reciting the usual formulæ. He orders the attendants to distribute rice to the Brahmans, for the purpose of invoking their benedictions. They receive the rice, scatter it and pronounce the _Swasti Vachana_, or benedictory text. He offers oblation to fire. Dadhichi now comes to the sacrifice, when a dispute ensues between him and the sacrificer, upon the impropriety of omitting to invite Siva; and the dispute becoming rather hot, Daksha orders his guest to be turned out. The gods partake of Dadhichi's indignation at the disrespectful mention of Siva, and rise to depart. Daksha orders his servants to guard the door and prevent their going forth: the gods, however, force their way. The sages then also withdraw, on which Daksha goes out, exclaiming, "I will give double presents to those who remain." Nareda goes to Kailas with the news. He enters playing the _Vina_ and singing hymns in honour of the great god. Nareda's communication to Siva and Bhavani is very brief. Siva asks, "Now, Nareda, whence come you?" Nareda replies, "Your godship is omniscient, you know all that has happened, but have asked me through a wish to hear it from my lips. We were all invited to Daksha's sacrifice. Dadhichi, finding that you were not invited, took Daksha to task pretty sharply, and walked off, upon which I come to pay you my respects." Having said this and prostrated himself on the ground, the sage, with his lute hanging upon his neck, departed. Sati now asks leave to go and see her father. Siva replies, "It is quite contrary to etiquette, to go without an invitation." She answers, "I need not stand on ceremony with my father." Siva observes, "How! would you impose upon me with falsehoods? Daksha is not your father, nor is his wife your mother, you are the father of all things, the mother of the universe. Those versed in the _Vedas_ declare you male and female too." In the end, she is allowed to follow her own inclinations. She comes to her father, and vainly endeavours to impress him with respect for her husband. She quits him to throw herself into the sacrificial fire. Nareda then appears and tells Daksha to prepare for the consequences of his folly. Virabhadra, Siva's attendant, then enters and plays some antics. Shaking the earth with his tread, and filling space with his extended arms, he rolls his eyes in wrath. Some of the gods he casts on the ground and tramples on them; he knocks out the teeth of some with his fists, plucks out the beards of some, and cuts off the ears, arms, and noses of others; he smites some, and he tosses others into the sacrificial fire. He decapitates the cause of his master's indignation, the haughty Daksha. MRIGANKALEKHA. Mrigankalekha is the daughter of the king of Kamarupa or Assam: she is beheld by Karpuratilaka, the king of Kalinga, whilst hunting, and the parties are mutually enamoured. The obstacle to their union is the love of Sankhapala, a demon, to oppose whose supernatural powers, Ratnachura, the minister of the king of Kalinga, who alone is aware of the circumstance, invites to the palace a benevolent magician, Siddhayogini, and Mrigankalekha is also lodged in the palace as the friend of the queen Vilasavati. Notwithstanding these precautions, she is carried off by Sankhapala to the temple of Kali, which is surrounded by goblins. During the Raja's peregrinations in his love-frenzy, he passes disconsolate through a wood in which he inquires of different animals if they have seen his mistress. He now comes to the temple, rescues her, and kills Sankhapala. He is then united to Mrigankalekha in the presence of her father and brother, and with the consent of the queen. Before the conclusion of the marriage rite, he kills also the brother of Sankhapala, who comes to revenge him in the form of a wild elephant. The marriage is thus effected through the secret contrivance of the minister, because the lady's husband is to become the master of the world. MUDRARAKSHASA OR RAKSHASA (THE MINISTER) WITH THE SIGNET OR RAKSHASA AND THE SIGNET-RING OR RAKSHASA KNOWN BY THE SIGNET-RING. The city of Pataliputra or Palibothra, the capital of the Nandas, was situated not far from the confluence of the Ganges and the Sone; and was on the southern side of the rivers. Nanda, the last king of the Nanda line, had for his minister the able and experienced Rakshasa. Chandragupta also called Vrishala and Maurya is identical with Sandrakottus represented by the Greek writers as the most powerful Raja in India at the time of Alexander the Great's death. He was a sovereign of dignity and strength of character and had a high respect for his minister Chanakya, the Indian Macchiavelli, who was a crafty, clearheaded, self-confident, intriguing and hard politician, with the ultimate end of his ambition thoroughly well-determined and directing all his clearheadedness and intrigue to the accomplishment of that end. This minister, also called Vishnugupta, is famous as a writer on _Nity_ or "rules of government and polity", and the reputed author of numerous moral and political precepts commonly current in India. Nanda is slain by the contrivances of this wily Brahman, who thus assists Chandragupta to the throne, and becomes his minister. Rakshasa refuses to recognise the usurper and endeavours to be avenged on him for the ruin of his late master. After the assassination of Nanda, Servarthasiddhi is placed on the throne by Rakshasa but he retires to a life of devotion. Saileswara or Parvataka or Parvateswara, the king of the Mountains, at first the ally of Chandragupta, afterwards befriended his opponents and is therefore slain privily by Chanakya. Vairodhaka, the brother of Parvataka, is killed by Rakshasa's emissaries by mistake for Chandragupta. Malayaketu, the son of Parvataka, is a prince whose confidence and distrust are alike misplaced, who is thoughtless, suspicious, wanting in dignity, and almost child-like, not to say childish. He leads an army against Chandragupta but without success. He is so rash and inconsiderate as to resolve most hastily to undertake war against five kings at a time. Rakshasa is a brave soldier but a blundering and somewhat soft-natured politician, whose faithfulnesss to his original master Nanda prompts him to wreak vengeance on Chandragupta and Chanakya. He has ultimately to abandon in despair his self-imposed task, the great aim of his life, being foiled by the arts of his adversary Chanakya. The proximate motive of the abandonment, however, is the duty of repaying favours received by him when he was engaged in his attempts at vengeance. He accidentally acquires a ring. Chanakya, whose ability and diplomatic skill are of a high order, lays out various plottings and machinations to make Chandragupta the paramount sovereign in India, by winning over the noble Rakshasa to his master's cause. He tries successfully to effect a reconciliation between his protegé, and Rakshasa. With this view Rakshasa is rendered by the contrivances of Chanakya an object of suspicion to the prince Malyaketu with whom he has taken refuge and is consequently dismissed by him. In this deserted condition he learns the imminent danger of a dear friend Chandandasa whom Chanakya is about to put to death, and in order to effect his liberation surrenders himself to his enemies. They offer him, contrary to his expectations, the rank and power of Prime Minister, and the parties are finally friends. The Nanda dynasty thus comes to an end and Chandragupta becomes the founder of the Maurya dynasty. A curious scene in the last Act may be noticed here. A Chandala or executioner leads a criminal to the place of execution. The latter bears a stake (_Sula_) on his shoulder, and is followed by his wife and son who use no expressions suggestive of tenderness but only of sacrifice--a stern sense of duty. At the impending execution of her husband, she neither faints nor becomes disconsolate but simply weeps and talks of her duty. The executioner calls out--"Make way, make way, good people! let every one who wishes to preserve his life, his property, or his family, avoid transgressing against the king as he would, poison." This criminal is Chandan Das who is put into chains with a view to force his friend Rakshsa to yield. He gives up his life and property for the sake of his friend Rakshasa. This conduct is described as casting into the shade the noble acts of even the Buddhas. VIDDHA SALABHANJIKA OR THE CARVED STATUE. Vidyadhar Malla, the chief of the Karachuli race, a Rajput tribe, was the king of Triling and Kalinga. Bhagurayana was his minister. Charayana was his Vidushaka or confidential attendant. Chandraverma, the king of Lata, was the maternal uncle-in-law of Vidyadhar Malla. He had no son. To satisfy his desire for a son, he dressed his only daughter Mrigankavali as a son to pass her off as such. People knew that the child was a son. Bhagurayana had heard from the sages that "whosoever shall wed the daughter of Chandravarma shall become the paramount sovereign." So he told Chandravarma, "My king desires to see your son." Upon this Chandravarma sent his child to the queen of Vidyadhara Malla to be taken care of by her. Thus the minister contrived to bring Mrigankavali to the palace of his king. One day, while the king is asleep, Mrigankavali puts a necklace on the neck of the king, being induced by a maid-servant who had instructions to do so by the minister. The king takes this as a wonderful dream. The vision of a beautiful maid agitates his mind. The king thus relates to Bidushaka the story of his fancied vision, "for the burden of the heart is lightened by sharing it with a faithful friend." "A glorious halo appeared before me in my dream, bright as the moon's resplendent disk; within the orb a beauteous maiden moved as gently radiant as the lunar rays in autumn skies. Advancing near me, she inclined her head in reverence, and, as if pouring ambrosia into my ears, pronounced in softest tones, 'Glory to the deity of love!' Then sighing, she took up this string of costly pearls and placed it on my neck. This awoke me, I started up and saw my vision realised. I caught the nymph by her scarf, but she hastily extricated herself from my hands and fled, leaving me this necklace alone the evidence of her presence." Bidushaka asks his Majesty, "Was not the queen with you when you dreamt? What did she do?" The king replies, "The queen got angry and left me." Bidushaka remarks, "Why could not you assuage her anger?" The king answers, "I was absorbed in the maid of my vision." The Vidushaka, however, treats the whole as a dream, and reproaches the king for his fickleness, as he had just before fallen in love with Kuvalayamala, the princess of Kuntala, and recommends him to be content with the queen, as "a partridge in the hand is better than a pea-hen in the forest." The prince and the Vidushaka then go into the garden by the back-door, where, over the edge of a terrace, they see some of the fair tenants of the inner apartments amusing themselves with swinging. Amongst them the king recognises the countenance he has seen in his dream, but the party disappear on the advance of the king and his friend. The king then enters a pleasure-house or pavilion called the _kelikailas_ or mountain of sport built for him by the minister. It is a beautiful palace built of crystal, and decorated with statues and paintings. One of the paintings is thus described: "There is your Majesty at _pasa_ (dice) with the queen: behind you stands one damsel with the betel box, whilst another is waving the _chownri_ over your head: the dwarf is playing with the monkey, and the parrot abusing the Vidushaka." The chamber also contains the portrait of Mrigankavali, the damsel whom the prince has really seen in his supposed dream. There is also a statue of her, whence the drama is named _Viddha Salabhanjika_, meaning a curved statue or effigy. The king discovers the statue. He thinks, "Who will carve on the wall the person I dreamed of? No one was present when I dreamt. Has anyone carved the statue out of his fancy? A real person may exist in this world or how can an exact figure come here?" He now verily believes the dream to be a reality. He then puts the necklace of his dream on the neck of the carved statue. Finally the lady is herself beheld through the transparent wall of the pavilion, but runs away on being observed. The king becomes enamoured of her. He and his friend follow her but in vain. The bards proclaim it at noon, and the two friends repair to the queen's apartments to perform the midday ceremonies. Kuvalayamala, the object of the king's passion before encountering his new flame, is the daughter of Chandramahasena, the king of Kuntala. She has been sent to Vidyadhara Malla's queen, as the betrothed bride of the supposed son of Chandraverma, who is the queen's maternal uncle. Mekhala, the queen's foster-sister, practises a frolic on Charayana. He is promised a new bride by the queen, and the ceremony is about to take place when the spouse proves to be a "lubberly boy"; he is highly indignant at the trick, and goes off threatening vengeance. The king having followed and pacified his companion, they go off into the garden, where they see the damsel Mrigankavali playing with ball: she still however flies their advance. Presently they overhear a conversation between her and one of her companions, from which it appears, that notwithstanding her shyness she is equally enamoured of the king. Her dress is the contrivance of the minister, at whose instigation, Mrigankavali is persuaded by Sulakshana to believe that she is to behold the present deity of love, and is introduced by a sliding door into the king's chamber. The consequence of the interview is to render Mrigankavali passionately enamoured of the king. One day, the queen, in order to deceive Charayana, manages to celebrate a marriage between him and a son of a maid-servant veiled as a female. The trick is discovered. He is highly indignant. He now retaliates with the help of the king. He induces Sulakshana, one of the female attendants of the queen, to ascend a _Bakula_ tree and thence send a message in a nasal tone, as if from the sky, to Mekhala, the foster-sister and chief attendant of the queen. "Thou shalt die at this spot on the full moon day of _Baisakh_." After many entreaties, the heavenly voice prescribes a relief, "Thou art safe if thou canst pass through the legs of a Brahmin skilled in music and gratified with a fee." Charayana, just the kind of Brahmin required, arrives at this juncture. The king and the queen are present. Mekhala and the queen, both overcome with concern, entreat Charayana to be the Brahmin that shall preserve the life of the former. He consents. As Mekhala tries to pass between his legs, he mounts on her back and says, "you are now caught in your turn. You deceived me once. Now marry me." He triumphs in the humiliation he has inflicted on her. The queen now perceives the intrigue of the king, is in her turn incensed, goes off in a pet and resolves to take revenge. Chandamahasen, the king of Kuntala as a defeated prince now resides with his daughter Kubalayamala under the protection of the victorious king. The king sees her one day as she rises after bathing in the Narbadda. He becomes enamoured of her and wishes to marry her. The queen gets scent of the matter. To prevent the curse of co-wifeship, the queen now resolves to get her husband married to the son of her maternal uncle so that he may be ashamed into abandoning his polygamous tendency. The king and the Vidushaka seek the garden, where it is now moon-light. Mrigankavali and her friend Vilakshana also come thither, and the lovers meet: this interview is broken off by a cry that the queen is coming, and they all separate abruptly. At dawn, Charayana's wife is asleep. In her sleep, however, she is very communicative, and repeats a supposed dialogue between the queen and the Raja, in which the former urges the latter to marry Mrigankavali, the sister of the supposed Mrigankavarma, come on a visit, it is pretended, to her brother--this being a plot of the queen's to cheat the king into a sham marriage, by espousing him to one she believes to be a boy. The Vidushaka suspects the trick, however, and wakes his wife, who rises and goes to the queen. The Vidushaka joins his master. The king, who is already the husband of the princesses of Magadha, Malava, Panchala, Avanti, Jalandhara and Kerala, is wedded to Mrigankavali. As soon as the ceremony is gone through, a messenger from the court of Chandraverma arrives to announce:-- "O queen! His Majesty Chandravarma wishes it to be known that Mrigankavarma is not his son but his daughter. In the absence of a son he dressed her as such to satisfy his desire for a son. Now that a son has been born to him, it is not necessary to keep up the pretence. The king requests you to settle a suitable marriage for her. The sages have prophesied paramount sovereignty for her husband." The queen becomes stunned and soliloquises:-- "What is play to me, Providence ordains to be a stern fact. Man proposes, God disposes." She now finds that she has taken herself in, and given herself another rival wife. As the matter is past remedy, however, she assents with a good grace. The minister is glad that his aims are fulfilled. All are happy, Why should Kuvalayamala alone be sorry? The queen therefore allows her lord to marry Kuvalyamala. To crown the king's happiness, a messenger, sent by the General of His Majesty's forces, now arrives from the camp with the news that the allied armies of Kernata, Simhala, Pandya, Murala, Andhra, and Konkana have been defeated, and Virapala, king of Kuntala, the ally of Vidyadhara Malla, reseated on a throne, from which his kinsman, supported by those troops, had formerly expelled him. The authority of Vidyadhara Malla as paramount sovereign is now declared to extend from the mouths of the Ganges to the sea, and from the Narbada to the Tamraperni in the Deccan. RATNAVALI OR THE NECKLACE. A holy seer announces to Yaugandharayana, the chief minister of Vatsa, the king of Kausambi, that whoever shall wed Ratnavali, the fair daughter of Vikramabahu, the king of _Sinhala_ or Ceylon and maternal uncle of Vasavadatta, the queen of Vatsa, should become the emperor of the world. The faithful minister, desirous of securing paramount sovereignty for his master, sends, without his knowledge and consent, an envoy to the court of Vikramabahu to negotiate the match. Vikramabahu declines to inflict the curse of co-wifeship upon his daughter and niece. The disappointed envoy returns home. The premier is sorry, but does not lose hope. After much deliberation, he hits upon an ingenious device. He proclaims in Ceylon by agents that queen Vasavadatta is dead, being burnt by chance and that the king, though much grieved, has at last consented, at the request of friends and relatives, to marry again. The intelligence reaches the ears of Vikramabahu who believes it. The premier now sends Babhravya as envoy to the Court of Ceylon to reopen the question of Ratnavali's marriage with Vatsa. Vikramabahu, after consulting his queen, consents to the proposal. He has Ratnavali decked in all ornaments including a single-stringed necklace round her neck and sends her away on board a ship, in company with his own ambassador Vasubhuti and Babhravya. He waits on the shore till the ship is out of sight and then returns home sorry at parting with his daughter. A terrible tempest wrecks the ship. A merchant of Kausambi finds Ratnavali floating in mid-sea, saves her life and brings her to the minister who thanks him heartily for the favour and offers a reward. The merchant thus expresses his unwillingness to accept it, "Sir, under the rule of our gracious king, the weak do not fear the strong; the rich cannot oppress the poor; the word "robber" has become obsolete; the sick and the orphans are being treated by the best of physicians and are free from any want of food and clothing; children are being properly educated; drought is never heard of; the highways are wide, clean, and well-guarded; communications are safe. If any loyal subject can be of any service to such a king, he does only his bare duty and should not accept any reward." He at last accepts the reward at the repeated requests of the minister and goes home. Then the minister interviews the queen, conceals the real facts and addresses her thus:-- "May it please your Majesty. I have received this girl from a merchant who told me that he had rescued her in the sea, but could not say anything more about her and her whereabouts. From her appearance she seems to be a respectable lady. I beseech your Majesty to take care of her." The queen takes the girl as one of her attendants--the girl who is destined to make her husband the lord of the world! The queen names her Sagarika or the Ocean Maid. The princess, who has been attended by hundreds of maidservants, is now reduced, by a strange irony of fate, to the position of a maid-servant herself! The Chamberlain Babhravya and Vasubhuti by some means reach the shore and are on their way to _Kausambi_. Vatsa comes forth to behold from the terrace of his palace the frolic merriment with which his subjects celebrate the festival of _Kamadeva_, the god of love. Wearied of tales of war, and seeking most his reputation in his people's hearts, he issues forth attended by his confidential companion Vasantaka, like the flower-armed deity himself, descended to take a part in the happiness of his worshippers. The king observes:-- "I scarcely can express the content I now enjoy. My kingdom is rid of every foe; the burden of my government reposes on able shoulders; the seasons are favourable; and my subjects, prosperous and happy. In Vasavadatta, the daughter of Pradyota, I have a wife whom I adore, and in Vasantaka, a friend in whom I can confide. Attended by such a friend, at such a season, and so disposed I might fancy myself the deity of desire, and this vernal celebration held in honour of myself. Kausambi outvies the residence of the god of wealth. Her numerous sons are clad in cloth of gold, decked with glittering ornaments and tossing their heads proudly with splendid crests. Vasantaka says:-- "Observe the general joy. As if intoxicated with delight, the people dance along the streets, sporting merrily with each other's persons and mutually scattering the yellow-tinted fluid. On every side, the music of the drum and the buzz of frolic crowds fill all the air. The very atmosphere is of a yellow hue, with clouds of flowery fragrance." At the request of the queen, conveyed through her attendants, the king proceeds with his friend to join her in offering homage to the image of the flower-armed deity, which stands at the foot of the red _Asoka_ tree. The queen enters the garden accompanied by Kanchanmala, her principal attendant, Sagarika and other damsels. Noticing Sagarika, the queen thinks, "What carelessness! an object I have hitherto so cautiously concealed, thus heedlessly exposed! I must remove her hence before the arrival of the king." She says, "How now, Sagarika, what makes you here? where is my favourite starling, that I left to your charge, and whom it seems you have quitted for this ceremony? Return to your place." Sagarika withdraws to a short distance and thinks, "the bird is safe with my friend Susangata. I should like to witness the ceremony. I wonder if _Annaga_ is worshipped here as in my father's mansion! I will keep myself concealed amongst the shrubs and watch them, and for my own presentation to the deity I will go, cull a few of these flowers." The king now joins the queen. Kanchanmala delivers the accustomed gifts of sandal, saffron, and flowers to the queen, who offers them to the image. The king thus eulogises the beauty of the queen, "Whilst thus employed, my love, you resemble a graceful creeper turning round a coral tree: your robes of the orange dye, your person fresh from the bath. As rests your hand upon the stem of the _Asoka_, it seems to put forth a new and lovelier shoot. The unembodied god to-day will regret his disencumbered essence, and sigh to be material, that he might enjoy the touch of that soft hand." The worship of the divinity concluded, the queen worships the king. Sagarika views the scene, mistakes the king for the god and observes, "What do I see? Can this be true? Does then the deity, whose effigy only we adore in the dwelling of my father, here condescend to accept in person the homage of his votaries? I, too, though thus remote, present my humble offering." She throws down the flowers and continues:--"Glory to the flower-armed god: may thy auspicious sight both now and hereafter prove not to have been vouchsafed to me in vain!" She bows down, then rising looks again, and observes:-- "The sight, though oft repeated, never wearies. I must tear myself from this, lest some one should discover me." She then withdraws a little, hears a bard sing a ballad in praise of the king, perceives her mistake and asks herself, "Is this Udayana, to whom my father destined me a bride?" She becomes enamoured of the king. The king and the queen now rise to return to the palace. Sagarika thinks, "They come! I must fly hence. Ah me, unhappy! no longer to behold him, whom I could gaze upon for ever." The king addresses his queen thus:--"Come, love, thou puttest the night to shame. The beauty of the moon is eclipsed by the loveliness of thy countenance, and the lotus sinks humbled into shade; the sweet songs of thy attendant damsels discredit the murmurs of the bees, and mortified they hasten to hide their disgrace within the flowery blossom." The king and the queen return to the palace. Sagarika enters a plantain bower with a brush and pallet in order to paint a picture and soliloquises thus: "Be still, my foolish heart, nor idly throb for one so high above thy hopes. Why thus anxious to behold that form, one only view of which has inspired such painful agitation? Ungrateful, too, as weak, to fly the breast that has been familiar to thee through life, and seek another, and as yet but once beheld, asylum. Alas! Why do I blame thee! the terror of _Ananga's_ shaft has rendered thee a fugitive;--let me implore his pity. Lord of the flowery bow, victor of demons and of gods! dost thou not blush to waste thy might upon a weak defenceless maiden, or art thou truly without form and sense? Ah me, I fear my death impends, and this the fatal cause." She looks at the picture and goes on, "No one approaches; I will try and finish the likeness I am here attempting to portray. My heart beats high, my hand trembles, yet I must try, and whilst occasion favours me, attempt to complete these lineaments, as the only means to retain them in my sight." She draws the picture, raising her head beholds her friend Susangata with a _Sarika_ or talking bird in a cage, and hides the picture. Susangata sits down, puts her hand upon the picture and asks, "who is this you have delineated?" Sagarika answers, "The deity of the festival, _Ananga_." Susangata observes, "It is cleverly done, but there wants a figure to complete it. Let me have it, and I will give the god his bride." She takes the paper and draws the likeness of Sagarika. Sagarika expresses anger. Her friend remarks, "Do not be offended without cause. I have given your _Kamadeva_ my _Rati_, that is all. But come, away with disguise, and confess the truth." Seeing that her friend has discovered her secret, Sagarika is overcome with shame and entreats her to promise that no body else shall be made acquainted with her weakness. Her friend replies, "why should you be ashamed? Attachment to exalted worth becomes your native excellence. But be assured I will not betray you; it is more likely this prattling bird will repeat our conversation." The friend brings some leaves and fibres of the lotus, and binds the former with the latter upon Sagarika's bosom. She exclaims, "Enough, enough, my friend, take away these leaves and fibres,--it is vain to offer relief. I have fixed my heart where I dare not raise my hopes. I am overcome with shame--I am enslaved by passion--my love is without return--death, my only refuge." She faints and recovers after a short while. A noise behind proclaims that a monkey has escaped from the stable, and, rattling the ends of his broken chain of gold, he clatters along. Afraid of the advent of the monkey, they both rush to hide in the shade of a _tamala_ grove, leaving the drawing behind. The ape breaks the cage to get at the curds and rice and lets the _Sarika_ fly. Vasantaka now notices that the jasmine has been covered with countless buds, as if smiling disdainfully upon the queen's favourite _Madhavi_. He is surprised at the most marvellous power of the venerable Sri-Khanda-Dasa, a great sage come to court from _Sri-Parvata_, by whose simple will the strange event has happened. He thinks of going to the king to inform his Majesty when the king appears. He congratulates his Majesty, on his propitious fortune. The king observes, "Inconceivable is the virtue of drugs, and charms, and gems. Lead the way, and let these eyes this day obtain by the sight the fruit of their formation." Vasantaka advances, stops to listen and turns back in alarm for he fancies a goblin in yonder _Bakula_ tree. The goblin turns out a starling. The courtier remarks, "she says, give the Brahman something to eat." The king observes, "something to eat is ever the burden of the glutton's song. Come, say truly, what does she utter. The friend listens and repeats, "Who is this you have delineated? Do not be offended without cause; I have given your _Kamadeva_ my _Rati_. Why should you be ashamed? Attachment to exalted worth becomes your native excellence. Take away these lotus leaves and fibres--it is in vain you strive to offer me relief. I have fixed my heart where I dare not raise my hopes;--I am overcome with shame and despair, and death is my only refuge." The king interprets thus:--"Oh, I suppose some female has been drawing her lover's portrait, and passing it off on her companion as the picture of the god of love: her friend has found her out; and ingeniously exposed her evasion, by delineating her in the character of _Kama-deva's_ bride. The lady that is pictured is very handsome. Some young female may be supposed to have spoken, indifferent to life, because uncertain of her affection being returned. The delicate maid entrusts her companion with the sorrows of her breast: the tattling parrot or imitative starling repeats her words, and they find an hospitable welcome in the ears of the fortunate. The companion, laughing loudly, observes, "You may as well drop these evasive interpretations; why not say at once, "the damsel doubts my returning her passion." Who but yourself could have been delineated as the god of the flowery bow?". The friend claps his hands and laughs. His obstreperous mirth frightens the bird away. She perches on the plantain bower. They follow her there. Vasantaka finds a picture and shows it to the king, who gives him a golden bracelet. Looking at it, the king dwells upon the beauties of the damsel. Susangata and Sagarika hide themselves behind the plantain trees and overhear the conversation between the king and his companion. Susangata remarks, "You are in luck, girl; your lover is dwelling upon your praises. The bird, as I told you, has repeated our conversation." Sagarika thinks to herself, "What will he reply? I hang between life and death." The king remarks farther to his companion, "My sight insatiate rests upon her graceful limbs and slender waist. I cannot deny that she has flatteringly delineated my likeness, nor doubt her sentiments--for observe the traces of the tear that has fallen upon her work, like the moist dew that starts from every pore of my frame." Sagarika says to herself, "Heart, be of good cheer! your passion is directed to a corresponding object." Susangata now comes forward, so as to be seen by Vasantaka. At this the king, on the advice of his companion, covers the picture with his mantle. Susangata says, "I am acquainted with the secret of the picture and some other matters of which I shall apprise her Majesty." The king takes off his bracelet and other ornaments and offers them to her with the object of bribing her to be silent. She replies, "Your Majesty is bountiful. You need not fear me. I was but in jest, and do not want these jewels. The truth is, my dear friend, Sagarika is very angry with me for drawing her picture, and I shall be much obliged to your Majesty to intercede for me and appease her resentment." The king springs up and exclaims, "Where is she? Lead me to her." Then all advance to Sagarika. She thinks, "He is here--I tremble at his sight. I can neither stand nor move--what shall I do?" Vasantaka, seeing her, exclaims, "A most surprising damsel, truly; such another is not to be found in this world. I am confident that when she was created, _Brahma_ was astonished at his own performance." The king is struck with her and observes, "such are my impressions. The four mouths of _Brahma_ must at once have exclaimed in concert, bravo, bravo! when the deity beheld these eyes more beauteous than the leaves of his own lotus; and his head must have shaken with wonder, as he contemplated her loveliness, the ornament of all the world." Sagarika prepares to go away when the king addresses her thus, "You turn your eyes upon your friend in anger, lovely maid; yet such is their native tenderness that they cannot assume a harsh expression. Look thus, but do not leave us, for your departure hence will alone give me pain." Susangata now advises the king to take Sagarika by the hand and pacify her. The king approves the advice and acts up to it. Vasantaka congratulates the king on his unprecedented fortune. The king replies, "You say rightly--she is the very deity Lakshmi herself. Her hand is the new shoot of the _Parijata_ tree, else whence distil these dewdrops of ambrosia?" Susangata remarks, "It is not possible, my dear friend, you can remain inexorable whilst honoured thus with his Majesty's hand." Sagarika frowns on her friend and asks her to forbear. At this time, Vasantaka, in testiness of temper, raises a false alarm by proclaiming that the queen is approaching. The king lets go Sagarika's hand in alarm. Sagarika and her companion go off hastily behind the _tamala_ tree. After a short time, the queen approaches the king. By order of the king, Vasantaka hides the picture quickly under his arm. The king proposes to visit, in the company of the queen, the Jasmine budded. The queen declines. Vasantaka takes it as an acknowledgment of defeat on her part and cries out Huzza! He waves his hand and dances; the picture falls. Kanchanmala, an attendant of the queen, picks up the picture and shows it to her mistress. The queen, whose jealousy is excited by the discovery of the picture, demands an explanation from the king. Vasantaka volunteers to offer the explanation thus:--"I was observing, madam, that it would be very difficult to hit my friend's likeness, on which his Majesty was pleased to give me this specimen of his skill." The king confirms the explanation. The queen observes, "And the female standing near you--I suppose this is a specimen of Vasantaka's skill." The king replies, "What should you suspect? That is a mere fancy portrait, the original was never seen before." Vasantaka supports the king thus, "I will swear to this, by my Brahmanical thread, that the original was never seen before by either of us." Not satisfied with the explanation, the queen remarks, "My lord, excuse me. Looking at the picture has given me a slight headache. I leave you to your amusements." The king observes, "What can I say to you, dearest? I really am at a loss. If I ask you to forgive me, that is unnecessary, if you are not offended; and how can I promise to do so no more, when I have committed no fault, although you will not believe my assertions?" The queen, detaching herself gently and with politeness, takes leave and goes away with her attendant. Vasantaka remarks, "Your Majesty has had a lucky escape. The queen's anger has dispersed like summer clouds." The king observes. "Away, blockhead, we have no occasion to rejoice; could you not discover the queen's anger through her unsuccessful attempts to disguise it? Her face was clouded with a passing frown. As she hung down her head, she looked on me with an affected smile. She gave utterance to no angry words, it is true, and the swelling eye glowed not with rage--but a starting tear was with difficulty repressed; and although she treated me with politeness, struggling indignation lurked in every gesture. We must endeavour to pacify her." To insure the vigilance of Kanchanmala, the queen gives her some of her own clothes and ornaments. With these it is plotted to equip Sagarika as the queen. A stolen interview between the king and Sagarika, thus disguised, is arranged to take place at the _Madhava_ bower about sunset. The queen gets scent of the matter and forestalls Sagarika by meeting the king at the appointed time and place. The king, mistaking her for Sagarika, thus speaks his honest self! "My beloved Sagarika, thy countenance is radiant as the moon, thy eyes are two lotus buds, thy hand is the full blown flower, and thy arms, its graceful filaments. Come thou, whose form is the shrine of ecstasy, come to my arms." The queen throws off her veil and says:--"Believe me still Sagarika, my good lord; your heart is so fascinated by her, you fancy you behold Sagarika in everything." The king replies, "forgive me, dearest." The queen remarks, "Address not this to me, my lord--the epithet is another's property." The king falls at her feet. The queen observes, "Rise, my lord, rise! that wife must be unreasonable indeed, who, with such evidence of her lord's affection, can presume to be offended. Be happy, I take my leave." She now goes away. Sagarika, dressed as the queen, goes some way to meet the king when she thinks of putting an end at once to her sufferings and her life and fastens the noose round her neck with the fibres of the _Madhavi_. The king, who is seeking for the queen in hopes to pacify her anger, discovers Sagarika on the way and mistakes her for the queen. He rushes to her and tears off the tendril. He soon discovers his mistake, embraces her and observes, "When the bosom of my queen swells with sighs, I express concern; when she is sullen, I soothe her; when her brows are bent, and her face is distorted with anger, I fall prostrate at her feet. These marks of respect are due to her exalted position; but the regard that springs from vehement affection, that is yours alone." At this time, the queen, who has overheard the speech, comes forward and says, "I believe you, my lord, I believe you." The king explains his conduct thus:--"Why, then, you need not be offended. Cannot you perceive that I have been attracted hither, and misled by the resemblance of your dress and person? Be composed, I beg you." He falls at her feet. She observes, "Rise, rise, let not my exalted station put you to such unnecessary inconvenience." Vasantaka takes up the noose, shows it to the queen and explains his conduct thus, "It is very true, madam, I assure you, that, deceived by the belief that you were attempting to destroy yourself, I brought my friend to this spot, to preserve, as I thought, your life." By order of the queen, Kanchanmala puts the noose over his neck, beats him and carries him off an unfortunate captive. The king thinks, "What an unlucky business this is! What is to be done? How shall I dissipate the rage that clouds the smiling countenance of the queen! How rescue Sagarika from the dread of her resentment, or liberate my friend Basantaka? I am quite bewildered with these events, and can no longer command my ideas. I will go in, and endeavour to pacify the queen." The queen regales Vasantaka with cakes from her own fair hands, presents him with a dress and restores him to liberty. Susangata prays him to accept a diamond necklace which Sagarika has left with her for presentation to him. He declines the offer. Looking at it attentively he wonders where she could have procured such a valuable necklace. They both go to the king who has gone from the queen's apartments to the crystal alcove and is lamenting thus:--"Deceitful vows, tender speeches, plausible excuses and prostrate supplications had less effect upon the queen's anger than her own teaks; like water upon the fire they quenched the blaze of her indignation. I am now only anxious for Sagarika. Her form, as delicate as the petal of the lotus, dissolving in the breath of inexperienced passion, has found a passage through the channels by which love penetrates, and is lodged deep in my heart. The friend to whom I could confide my secret sorrows is the prisoner of the queen." Vasantaka now informs the king that he has been restored to liberty. Asked about Sagarika he hangs down his head and declares that he cannot utter such unpleasant tidings. The king infers that Sagarika is no more and faints. The friend says, "my friend, revive--revive! I was about to tell you, the queen has sent her to Ougein--this I called unpleasant tidings, Susangata told me so,--and what is more, she gave me this necklace to bring to your Majesty." Vasantaka gives the king the necklace which he applies to his heart to alleviate his despair. By command, the courtier applies the ornament round the neck of the king. At this time, Vijayavarman, the nephew of Rumanwat the general of the state, arrives to announce:--"Glory to your Majesty! your Majesty's fortune is propitious in the triumphs of Rumanwat. By your Majesty's auspices the _Kosalas_ are subdued. On receiving your Majesty's commands, my uncle soon collected a mighty army of foot, and horse, and elephants, and marching against the king of Kosala, surrounded him in a strong position in the Vindhya mountains. Impatient of the blockade, the _Kosala_ monarch prepared his troops for an engagement. Issuing from the heights, the enemy's forces came down upon us in great numbers, and the points of the horizon were crowded with the array of mighty elephants, like another chain of mountains: they bore down our infantry beneath their ponderous masses: those who escaped the shock were transpierced by innumerable arrows and the enemy flattered himself he had for once disappointed our commander's hopes. Fires flashed from the blows of contending heroes, helmets and heads were cloven in twain--the broken armour and scattered weapons were carried away in torrents of blood, and the defiance of the king of _Kosala_, in the van of his army, was heard by our warriors; when our chief alone confronted him, and slew the monarch on his furious elephant with countless shafts. All honour to our gallant foe, the king of _Kosala_; for glorious is the warrior's death when his enemies applaud his prowess. Rumanwat then appointed my elder brother, Sanjayavarman, to govern the country of _Kosala_, and making slow marches in consequence of the number of his wounded, returned to the capital. He is now arrived." The king applauds his general and commands the distribution of the treasures of his favour. Samvarasiddhi, a magician from Ougein, now interviews the king. The magician, waving a bunch of peacock's feathers, observes, "Reverence to Indra, who lends our art his name. What are your Majesty's commands? Would you see the moon brought down upon earth, a mountain in mid air, a fire in the ocean, or night at noon? I will produce them--Command. What need of many words? By the force of my master's spells, I will place before your eyes the person whom in your heart you are most anxious to behold." The king not wishing to see the performance alone, summons the queen who arrives soon. The king leads her to a seat, sits beside her and commands the magician to display his power. The magician waves his plumes and exhibits most wonderful scenes. _Brahma_ appears throned upon the lotus; _Sankara_ appears with the crescent moon, his glittering crest; _Hari_, the destroyer of the demon race, in whose four hands the bow, the sword, the mace and the shell are borne, is observable. _Indra_, the king of _Swarga_, is seen mounted on his stately elephant. Around them countless spirits dance merrily in mid air, sporting with the lovely nymphs of heaven, whose anklets ring responsive to the measure. The king and queen look up and rise from their seats. At this time, a female attendant appears to announce;--"So please your Majesty, the minister Yaugandharayana begs to inform you, that Vikrambahu, the king of Ceylon, has sent, along with your own messenger who returns, the councillor Vasubhuti; be pleased to receive him as the season is auspicious. The minister will also wait upon you as soon as he is at leisure." The queen observes, "Suspend this spectacle, my lord. Vasubhuti is a man of elevated rank; he is also of the family of my maternal uncle, and should not be suffered to wait; let us first see him." The king orders the suspension of the show, the magician retires promising to exhibit yet some sights. Vasubhuti, after the customary exchange of courtesies, thus relates his story:--"In consequence of the prophesy of a seer, that whoever should wed Ratnavali, my master's daughter, should become the emperor in the world, your Majesty's minister solicited her for your bride; unwilling, however, to be instrumental in the uneasiness of Vasavadatta, the king of Simhala declined compliance with his suit. My master, understanding at last that the queen was deceased, consented to give his daughter to you. We were deputed to conduct her hither, when alas, our vessel was wrecked." The envoy, overpowered by sorrows, is unable to continue the story and weeps. The queen exclaims, "Alas, unhappy that I am! Loved sister Ratnavali, where art thou? Near me and reply." The king consoles the queen thus:-- "The fate that causes, may remove our sorrows." A cry is now heard from behind that the inner apartments are on fire. The king starts up wildly and exclaims, "Vasavadatta burnt to death! my queen, my love!" The queen exclaims, "What extravagance is this--behold me at your side. But ah! help, help, my lord. I think not of myself but poor Sagarika. She is in bonds; my cruelty has kept her captive--and she will be lost without some aid--haste, haste and save her!" The king flies to her rescue, precipitates himself into the flames and takes her in his arms. He pauses--looks around--closes his eyes, and reopens them. The flames disappear. The palace stands unharmed. The king observes, "This must have been a dream, or is it magic?" Vasantaka replies, "The latter, no doubt; did not that conjuring son of a slave say, he had still something for your Majesty to see?" The king says to the queen, "Here, madam, is Sagarika rescued in obedience to your commands." The queen smiling replies, "I am sensible of your obedience, my lord." She now informs all present, "Yaugandharayana presented her to me, and told me she had been rescued from the sea: it was hence we designated her Sagarika or the ocean Maid." The likeness--the necklace--the recovery of the damsel from the sea--leave no doubt in the mind of Vasubhuti that this is the daughter of the king of Simhala, Ratnavali. Vasubhuti advances to her who looks at him. They recognize each other and both faint. After some time they recover. As Ratnavali goes to embrace the queen at her invitation, she stumbles. At the request of the queen who blushes for her cruelty, the king takes the chains off Ratnavali's feet. Yaugandharayana now explains his conduct thus, "It was formerly announced to us by a holy seer, that the husband of the princess of Simhala should become the emperor of the world. We therefore earnestly applied to her father to give her hand to our sovereign; but unwilling to be cause of uneasiness to the queen, the monarch of Simhala declined compliance with our request: we therefore raised a report that Vasavadatta had perished by a fire at Lavanaka, and Babhravya was despatched with the news to the court of Simhala. Vikrambahu then consented to our proposal and sent his daughter on board a ship accompanied by Vasubhuti and Babhravya. The ship was wrecked. The princess was rescued from the sea by a merchant who brought her to me. I placed her with the queen in a very unsuitable station as I expected you would see her in the inner apartments, and take pleasure in her sight. I had some concern in the appearance of the magician who had conjured up a vision of the gods and a conflagration, as no other means remained of restoring the damsel to your presence and creating an opportunity for Vasubhuti to see and recognise the princess." The queen now puts on Ratnavali her own jewels, then takes her by the hand and presents her to the king. Ratnavali bows to the queen who embraces her. The king observes, "My cares are all rewarded. Nothing more is necessary, Vikrambahu is my kinsman, Sagarika, the essence of the world, the source of universal victory, is mine, and Vasavadatta rejoices to obtain a sister. The _Kosalas_ are subdued: what other object does the world present for which I could entertain a wish? This be alone my prayer; may Indra with seasonable showers render the earth bountiful of grain; may the presiding Brahmans secure the favour of the gods by acceptable sacrifices; may the association of the pious confer delight until the end of time, and may the appalling blasphemies of the profane be silenced for ever." APPENDIX. THE VALUE OF DRAMA. The purposes for which an ancient language may be studied are its philology and its literature, or the arts and sciences, the notions and manners, the history and beliefs of the people by whom it was spoken. Particular branches may be preferably cultivated for the understanding of each of these subjects, but there is no one species which will be found to embrace so many purposes as the dramatic. The dialogue varies from simple to elaborate, from the conversation of ordinary life to the highest refinements of poetical taste. The illustrations are drawn from every known product of art, as well as every observable phenomenon of nature. The manners and feelings of the people are delineated, living and breathing before us, and history and religion furnish the most important and interesting topics to the bard. Wherever, therefore, there exists a dramatic literature, it must be pre-eminently entitled to the attention of the philosopher as well as the philologist, of the man of general literary tastes as well as the professional scholar. THE ORIGIN OF DRAMA. Among the various sorts of literary composition the drama holds the most important position; for it is a picture of real life, and, as such, of national interest. It consists of two principal species, tragedy and comedy; the minor species are tragi-comedy, farce, burlesque and melo-drama. Both tragedy and comedy attained their perfection in Greece long before the Christian era. There it originated in the worship of Bacchus. The English drama took its rise from the mysteries or sacred plays by the medium of which the clergy in the Middle Ages endeavoured to impart a knowledge of the Christian religion. The Sanskrit drama is said to have been invented by the sage Bharata, who lived at a very remote period of Indian history and was the author of a system of music. The earliest references to the acted drama are to be found in the _Mahabhashya_, which mentions representations of the _Kansabadha_ and the _Balibadha_, episodes in the history of Krishna. Indian tradition describes Bharat as having caused to be acted before the gods a play representing the _Svayamvara_ of Lakshmi. Tradition further makes Krishna and his cowherdesses the starting point of the _Sangita_, a representation consisting of a mixture of song, music, and dancing. The Gitagovinda is concerned with Krishna, and the modern _Yatras_ generally represent scenes from the life of that deity. From all this it seems likely that the Hindu drama was developed in connection with the cult of Vishnu-Krishna; and that the earliest acted representations were, therefore, like the mysteries of the Christian Middle Ages, a kind of religious plays, in which scenes from the legends of the gods were enacted mainly with the aid of songs and dances supplemented with prose dialogues improvised by the performers. These earliest forms of Hindu dramatic literature are represented by those hymns of the _Rig-Veda_ which contain dialogues such as those of Sarama and the Panis, Yama and Yami, Pururava and Urvaci. The words for actor (_nata_) and play (_nataka_) are derived from the verb _nat_, the Prakrit or vernacular form of the Sanskrit _nrit_, "to dance." Hence scholars are of opinion that the Sanskrit drama has developed out of dancing. The representations of dramas of early times were attended with dancing and gesticulation. There were rude performances without the contrivances of stage and scenic arrangements, dancing and music forming a considerable part. The addition of dialogue was the last step in the development, which was thus much the same in India and Greece. This primitive stage is represented by the Bengal _Yaêras_ and the Gitagovinda. These form the transition to the fully developed Sanskrit play in which lyrics and dialogue are blended. Sakuntala belongs to the mytho-pastoral class of Sanskrit plays; Probodhchandraudya, to the metaphysical. The Hindu theatre affords examples of the drama of domestic, as well as of heroic life; of original invention as well as of legendary tradition. The Hindus did not borrow their dramatic compositions from foreigners. The nations of Europe possessed no dramatic literature before the fourteenth or fifteenth century, at which period the Hindu drama had passed into its decline. Mohammedan literature has ever been a stranger to theatrical writings, and the Mussalman conquerors of India could not have communicated what they never possessed. There is no record that theatrical entertainments were ever naturalised amongst the ancient Persians, Arabs, or Egyptians. With the exception of a few features in common with the Greek and the Chinese dramas, which could not fail to occur independently, the Hindu dramas present characteristic features in conduct and construction which strongly evidence both original design and national development. Angustus William Von Schlegel observes:-- "Among the Indians, the people from whom perhaps all the cultivation of the human race has been derived, plays were known long before they could have experienced any foreign influence." THE CHARACTER OF THE HINDU DRAMA. Sanskrit plays are full of lyrical passages describing scenes or persons presented to view, or containing reflections suggested by the incidents that occur. They usually consist of four-line stanzas. The prose of the dialogue in the plays is often very commonplace, serving only as an introduction to the lofty sentiment of the poetry that follows. The Sanskrit drama is a mixed composition in which joy is mingled with sorrow, in which the jester usually plays a prominent part, while the hero and heroine are often in the depths of despair. But it never has a sad ending. The emotions of terror, grief, or pity, with which the audience are inspired, are therefore always tranquillised by the happy termination of the story. Nor may any deeply tragic incident take place in the course of the play; for death is never allowed to be represented on the stage. Indeed, nothing considered indecorous, whether of a serious or comic character, is allowed to be enacted in the sight or hearing of the spectators, such as the utterance of a curse, degradation, banishment, national calamity, biting, scratching, kissing, eating, or sleeping. Love, according to Hindu notions, is the subject of most of their dramas. The hero, who is generally a king, and already the husband of a wife or wives, is suddenly smitten with the charms of a lovely woman, sometimes a nymph, or, as in the case of Sakuntala, the daughter of a nymph by a mortal father. The heroine is required to be equally impressible, and the first tender glance from the hero's eye reaches her heart. With true feminine delicacy, however, she locks the secret of her passion in her own breast, and by her coyness and reserve keeps her lover for a long period in the agonies of suspense. The hero, being reduced to a proper state of desperation, is harassed by other difficulties. Either the celestial nature of the nymph is in the way of their union, or he doubts the legality of the match, or he fears his own unworthiness, or he is hampered by the angry jealousy of a previous wife. In short, doubts, obstacles and delays make great havoc of both hero and heroine. They give way to melancholy, indulge in amorous rhapsodies, and become very emaciated. So far the story is decidedly dull, and its pathos, notwithstanding the occasional grandeur and beauty of imagery, often verges on the ridiculous. But, by way of relief, an element of life is generally introduced in the character of the Vidushaka, or Jester, who is the constant companion of the hero; and in the young maidens, who are confidential friends of the heroine, and soon become possessed of her secret. By a curious regulation, the jester is always a Brahman, and, therefore, of a caste superior to the king himself; yet his business is to excite mirth by being ridiculous in person, age, and attire. He is represented as grey-haired, hump-backed, lame and hideously ugly. In fact, he is a species of buffoon, who is allowed full liberty of speech, being himself a universal butt. His attempts at wit, which are rarely very successful, and his allusions to the pleasures of the table, of which he is a confessed votary, are absurdly contrasted with the sententious solemnity of the despairing hero, crossed in the prosecution of his love-suit. His clumsy interference with the intrigues of his friend, only serves to augment his difficulties, and occasions many an awkward dilemma. On the other hand, the shrewdness of the heroine's confidantes never seem to fail them under the most trying circumstances; while their sly jokes and innuendos, their love of fun, their girlish sympathy with the progress of the love-affair, their warm affection for their friend, heighten the interest of the plot, and contribute not a little to vary its monotony. Indeed, if a calamitous conclusion be necessary to constitute a tragedy, the Hindu dramas are never tragedies. They are mixed compositions, in which joy and sorrow, happiness and misery, are woven in a mingled web,--tragi-comic representations, in which good and evil, right and wrong, truth and falsehood, are allowed to mingle in confusion during the first acts of the drama. But, in the last act, harmony is always restored, order succeeds to disorder, tranquillity to agitation; and the mind of the spectator, no longer perplexed by the apparent ascendancy of evil, is soothed, and purified, and made to acquiesce in the moral lesson deducible from the plot. In comparison with the Greek and the modern drama, Nature occupies a much more important place in Sanskrit plays. The characters are surrounded by Nature, with which they are in constant communion. The mango and other trees, creepers, lotuses, and pale-red trumpet-flowers, gazelles, flamingoes, bright-hued parrots, and Indian cuckoos, in the midst of which they move, are often addressed by them and form an essential part of their lives. Hence the influence of Nature on the minds of lovers is much dwelt on. Prominent everywhere in classical Sanskrit poetry, these elements of Nature luxuriate most of all in the drama. The dramas of Bhavabhuti except Malati-Madhava, and the whole herd of the later dramatic authors, relate to the heroic traditions of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, or else to the history of Krishna; and the later the pieces are, the more do they resemble the so-called 'mysteries' of the middle ages. The comedies, which, together with a few other pieces, move in the sphere of civil life, form, of course, an exception to this. A peculiar class of dramas are the philosophical ones, in which abstractions and systems appear as the _dramatis personæ_. One very special peculiarity of the Hindu drama is that women, and persons of inferior rank, station, or caste are introduced as speaking the _Prakrit_ or vulgarised Sanskrit, while the language of the higher and more educated classes is the classical Sanskrit of the present type. THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE SANSKRIT DRAMA. According to the code of criticism laid down in works on Sanskrit drama, it should deal principally either with the sentiment of love, or the heroic sentiment; the other sentiments should have a subsidiary position. There should be four or five principal characters, and the number of acts should vary from five to ten. There are several species of the drama,--ten principal, and eighteen minor. Of these none has a tragic end. Every drama opens with a prologue or, to speak more correctly, an introduction designed to prepare the way for the entrance of the dramatis personæ. The prologue commences with a prayer or benediction (_Nandi_) invoking the national deity in favour of the audience. Then generally follows a dialogue between the stage-manager and one or two of the actors, which refers to the play and its author, mentions past events and present circumstances elucidating the plot, and invariably ends by adroitly introducing one of the dramatic personages, and the real performance begins. The play thus opened, is carried forward in scenes and acts; each scene being marked by the entrance of one character and the exit of another. The stage is never left vacant till the end of an act, nor does any change of locality take place till then. The commencement of a new act is often marked, by an introductory monologue or dialogue spoken by one or more of the _dramatis personæ_, and is called _Viskambhaka_ or _Praveshaka_, which alludes to events supposed to have occurred in the interval, and the audience are prepared for national plenty and prosperity, addressed by one of the principal personages of the drama, to the favourite deity. The development of the plot is brought about through five divisions called the five _sandhis_. A _sandhi_ is a combination of incidents whereby the object is attained. THE MANNER OF PERFORMANCE. There were no special theatres in the Hindu Middle Ages, and plays seem to have been performed in the concert-room (_Sangita-Cala_) of royal palaces. A curtain, divided in the middle, was a necessary part of the stage arrangement; it did not, however, separate the audience from the stage, as in the Roman theatre, but formed the back-ground of the stage. Behind the curtain was the tiring-room (_nepathya_), whence the actors came on the stage. When they were intended to enter hurriedly, they were directed to do so "with a toss of the curtain." The stage scenery and decorations were of a very simple order, much being left to the imagination of the spectator, as in the Shakespearian drama. Weapons, seats, thrones, and chariots appeared on the stage; but it is highly improbable that the latter were drawn by the living animals supposed to be attached to them. There may have been some kind of aerial contrivance to represent celestial chariots. KALIDASA. Kalidasa is the author of Sakuntala, Vikramorvasi and Malavikagnimitra. He has been designated the Indian Shakespeare. He is reputed to have been one of the nine ornaments (or "gems") of the Court of Vikramaditya, king of Ujayin, whose Era, called _Samvat_, begins in 56 B.C. Stories extant about him describe him to be the veriest fool. He rose to be a great poet through the favour of the Goddess of Learning. Those stories embody the public opinion that except through Divine Grace or the Inspiration of the Muse a man cannot rise to such eminence by learning and culture alone. His native place is Kashmir or its neighbourhood. He had no doubt suffered from the pangs of poverty and neglect and travelled a great deal. He professed the _Saiva_ form of worship. His chief poems are the Raghuvansam, the Kumarasambhavam, the Meghadutam and the Ritusanharam. It is believed that he wrote a treatise on Astronomy and one on Sanskrit Prosody. His genius was of a versatile nature. He was a poet, a dramatist and an astronomer. His works bespeak the superior order of his scholarship--his acquaintance with the important systems of philosophy, the Upanishads and the Puranas;--his close observation of society and its intricate problems;--his delicate appreciation of the most refined feelings, his familiarity with the conflicting sentiments and emotions of the human heart,--and his keen perception of and deep sympathy with the beauties of Nature. His imagination was of a very high order and of a constructive nature. His power of depicting all shades of character,--high and low,--from the king to the common fisherman, is astonishing. His similes are so very apt that they touch directly the heart and at once enlist the sympathy of the reader. He is called the poet of the sentiment of Love as this sentiment was his _forte_. His diction is chaste and free from extravagance and is marked by that felicity of expression, spontaneity and melody which have earned for him the epithet--"the favoured child of the Muse." SAKUNTALA. Of all Sanskrit dramas, Sakuntala has acquired the greatest celebrity. It is not in India alone that it is known and admired. Its excellence and beauty are acknowledged by learned men in every country of the civilised world. It was the publication of a translation of this play by Sir William Jones, which Max Muller thinks "may fairly be considered as the starting point of Sanskrit Philology." "The first appearance of this beautiful specimen of dramatic art," he continues, "created, at the time, a sensation throughout Europe, and the most rapturous praise was bestowed upon it by men of high authority in matters of taste." THE MORAL OF THE PLAY. The recovery of the ring, like its loss, was a matter of pure accident and points to the moral that the joys and sorrows of human beings depend in most cases upon circumstances which lie beyond their control. MALAVIKAGNIMITRA. The play was not written at a time when Buddhism was despised, and had already been driven out of India, but when it was still regarded with favour, and was looked up to with reverence. VIKRAMORVASI. The root of all the stories of Pururavas and Urvasi were short proverbial expressions, of which ancient dialects are so fond. Thus--'Urvasi loves Pururavas,' meant 'the sun rises'; 'Urvasi sees Pururavas naked,' meant 'the dawn is gone'; 'Urvasi finds Pururavas again,' meant 'the sun is setting.' The same ideas pervade the mythological language of Greece. BHAVABHUTI. The name of Bhavabhuti stands high in Sanskrit literature. It is perhaps the highest in eloquence of expression and sublimity of imagination. Throughout the whole range of Sanskrit literature--from the simple lessons of Hitopadesha to the most elaborate polish of Naishadha--from the terse vigour of Sankaracharjya to the studied majesty of Magha--from the harmonious grace of Kalidasa to the ornate picturesqueness of Kadambari, there is probably no writer who can come up to Bhavabhuti in his wonderful command of Sanskrit language and surprising fluency and elevation of diction. The introductions to the Viracharita and the Malati-Madhava tell us that he belonged to Padmapura in Vidarva (Berar) and was the grandson of Gopal Bhatta and son of Nilkantha and Jatukarni. He was descended from a family of Brahmans surnamed Udambaras. His wonderful memory and vast erudition soon procured for him the title of Srikantha or Minerva-throated. He soon removed to the court of Ujjayini, where before the celebrated Mahakala all his plays were acted. He wrote the Viracharita, the Uttarramacharita and the Malati-Madhava. According to Rajatarangini, Bhavabhuti was patronized by Yasovarma, king of Kanoja. This Yasovarma was subdued by Lalitaditya, king of Kasmira, who acquired by his conquests a paramount supremacy over a large part of India. VIRA CHARITA. The play throws some light on the condition of women. The princesses of Videha publicly go to the hermitage of Vishvamitra. Sita comes out with her attendants to dissuade Rama from meeting Jamadagnya and makes a public entry with him on his return to Ayodhya. The old queens come out to meet their children. Yet it must not be supposed that Hindu women enjoyed the same freedom of intercourse as their European sisters. As now, there used to be separate apartments for women. As now, they were not admitted to an equality with men. The princesses of Videha do not carry on conversation with the princes of Ajodhya. Sita does not come out to pay her respects to the seniors, but her salute is announced from within. There is now more seclusion of Hindu women as the result of the influence of past Mahammedan rule. The influence of British rule is now promoting the cause of female liberty. UTTARRAMACHARITA. The mutual sorrows of Rama and Sita in their state of separation are pleasingly and tenderly expressed. The meeting of the father and his sons may be compared advantageously with similar scenes with which the fictions of Europe, both poetical and dramatic, abound. The true spirit of chivalry pervades the encounter of the two young princes with their father. Some brilliant thoughts occur, the justice and beauty of which are not surpassed in any literature. The comparison of Chandraketu to a lion's cub turning to brave the thunderbolt is one of these; and another is the illustration of the effects of education upon minds possessed or destitute of natural gifts. MALATI-MADHAVA. The marriage dress of high-born females described in the sixth act is well worthy of our observation. It consisted of a corset of white silk and a fine red upper garment, besides the usual lower dress, ornaments, and a chaplet of flowers. It has received several modifications since the days of Bhavabhuti. The sacrifice of good-looking girls, alluded to in the fifth act, was common in his time and other authors allude to it. The seventh story of Dasakumar Charita is just like it, when a prince rescues a princess from a similar Sanyasi and afterwards marries her. The story of "Malati and Madhava" is one of pure invention. The manners described are purely Hindu without any foreign admixture. The appearance of women of rank in public, and their exemption from any personal restraint in their own habitations, are very incompatible with the presence of Muhammedan rulers. The licensed existence of Buddha ascetics, their access to the great, and their employment as teachers of science, are other peculiarities characteristic of an early date; whilst the worship of Siva in his terrific forms, and the prevalance of the practices of the Yoga, are indications of a similar tendency. MUDRA RAKSHASA. It must be acknowledged, that the political code from which the stratagems of Chanakya emanate, exhibits a morality not a whit superior to that of the Italian school; but a remarkable, and in some respects a redeeming principle, is the inviolable and devoted fidelity which appears as the uniform characteristic of servants, emissaries, and friends. The play is wholly of a political character, and represents a series of Machiavellian stratagems, influencing public events of considerable importance. The Mudrarakshasa is, in sundry respects, a very unique work in Sanskrit literature. Its plot is not a pure invention, but on the other hand, it is not derived from the usual storehouse of legends on which Sanskrit authors have generally drawn for their materials. It has no female among its prominent _dramatis personæ_, and the business of the play, accordingly, is diplomacy and politics, to the entire exclusion of love. There is, in truth, but one female character, with one little child, introduced into the play, and these are Chandanadasa's wife and son, who come in at the beginning of the last act. But even their appearance introduces no passages suggestive of tenderness or the purely domestic virtues, but only of sacrifice--a stern sense of duty. In the minor characters we see the principle of faithfulness to one's lord, adhered to through good report and evil report. In the more prominent ones, the same principle still prevails, and the course of conduct to which it leads is certainly quite Machiavellian. And all this is brought out in a plot put together with singular skill. In the seventh act we have a remarkable stanza, in which the conduct of Chandanadasa, in sacrificing his life for his friend Rakshasa, is stated to have transcended the nobility even of the Buddhas. It seems that this allusion to Buddhism belongs to a period long prior to the decay and ultimate disappearance of Buddhism from India. In the time of Hionen-Tsang--_i.e._ between 629-645 A.D.--it was, however, still far from being decayed, though it appears to have fallen very far below the point at which it stood in Fa-Hian's time, to have been equal in power with Brahminism only where it was supported by powerful kings, and to have been generally accepted as the prevailing religion of the country only in Kashmir and the Upper Punjab, in Magadha and in Guzerat. In this condition of things, it was still quite possible, that one not himself a Buddhist--and Visakhadatta plainly was not one--should refer to Buddhism in the complimentary terms we find in the passage under discussion. The late Mr. Justice Telang observes:--"The policy of Chanakya is not remarkable for high morality. From the most ordinary deception and personation, up to forgery and murder, every device is resorted to that could be of service in the achievement of the end which Chanakya had determined for himself. There is no lack of highly objectionable and immoral proceedings. It must be admitted that this indicates a very low state of public morality, and the formal works on politics which exist certainly do not disclose anything better. With reference to the criticisms which have been based on these facts, however, there are one or two circumstances to be taken into account. In the first place, although this is no excuse, it may be said to be an extenuation, that the questionable proceedings referred to are all taken in furtherance of what is, in itself, a very proper end. Chanakya's ambition is to make his protegé, Chandragupta firm upon his throne, and to bring back Rakshasa to the service of the king who properly represented those old masters of his to whom Rakshasa's loyalty still remained quite firm. If the end could ever be regarded as justifying the means, it might be so regarded in this case. And, secondly, it must not be forgotten, that the games of diplomacy and politics have always been games of more or less doubtful morality. When we hear of one great politician of modern days declaring another to be a great statesman, because, as I believe he expressed it, the latter lied so cleverly, we cannot say that the world has risen to any very perceptibly higher moral plane in the times of Metternich and Napoleon, than in those of Chanakya and Rakshasa. Nor are suppressions of important passages in despatches for the purposes of publication, or wars undertaken on unjustifiable and really selfish pretexts, calculated to convince one, that even in Europe in the nineteenth century, the transaction of political affairs has been purged of the taint of immorality, however different, and I may even add, comparatively innocent, may be the outward manifestations of that taint." VISAKHADATTA. Visakhadatta or Visakhadeva is the author of Mudrarakshasa. We learn from the Introduction to the drama that Visakhadatta was the son of Prithu and grandson of Vatesvaradatta--a Samanta or subordinate chief Professor Wilson was inclined to think that Maharaja Prithu might be the Chouhan Prince Prithu Rai of Ajmir; but he himself pointed out that the Chouhan Prince was never called Maharaja; and that the name Nateswara Datta would present a serious difficulty in the way of identifying the poet's father with the Chouhan Prince Prithu Rai of Ajmir. It will also appear that the author of the drama lived in a century which is prior to the age of Prithu Rai of Ajmir by centuries. He was in all probability a native of Northern India. The grandson of a tributary chief and the son of a Maharaja he was well-skilled in state-craft and made a special study of stratagems and crooked policies; in consequence of which the bent of his mind was mainly directed to business and did not indulge in sentiments. The effect of it is manifest in his poetry which is business-like and vigorous, but lacks in sweetness, beauty and the tender emotions. YAYATI CHARITA. The author may possibly be Pratapa Rudra Deva, sovereign of Telingana in the beginning of the fourteenth century. DUTANGADA. It is said to have been written for the yatra of Kumar Pala Deva, by order of Tribhuvana Pala Deva, by the poet Subhata. DHANANJAYA VIJAYA. It is the composition of Kanchana Acharya, the son of Narayana, a celebrated teacher of the _yoga_, of the race of Kapi Muni. MRIGANKALEKHA. The drama was composed by Viswanath, the son of Trimala Deva, originally from the banks of the Godaveri, but residing at Benares, where it was represented at the _yatra_, or festival, of Visweswara, the form under which Siva is particularly worshipped in that city. KAUTUKA SERVASWA. This is a Prahasana or Farce, and is especially a satire upon princes who addict themselves to idleness and sensuality, and fail to patronize the Brahmans. It was composed by a Pandit named Gopinath for representation at the autumnal festival of the _Durga Puja_. CHITRA YAJNA. This heterogeneous composition is the work of a Pandit of Nadiya, Vaidyanath Vachespati Bhattacharya, and was composed for the festival of Govinda, by desire of Iswar Chandra, the Raja of Nadiya. HASYARNAVA. This comic play is a severe but grossly indelicate satire upon the profligacy of Brahmans assuming the character of religious mendicants. It satirizes also the encouragement given to vice by princes, the inefficacy of ministers, and the ignorance of physicians and astrologers. It is the work of a Pandit named Jagaddisa, and was represented at the vernal festival; but where, or when, it is not known. RATNAVALI. Although the personages are derived from Hindu history, they are wholly of mortal mould, and unconnected with any mystical or mythological legend; and the incidents are not only the pure inventions of the dramatist, but they are of an entirely domestic nature. It is stated in the prelude to be the composition of the sovereign, Sri Harsa Deva. A king of this name, and a great patron of learned men, reigned over Kashmir; he was the reputed author of several works, being, however, only the patron, the compositions bearing his name being written by Dhavaka and other authors. RAJA SEKHAR. Raja Sekhar is the author of Prachanda Pandava, Biddhasalvanjika, and Karpura Manjari. MURARI. Murari composed Anargha Raghava. VENISANHARA. The author is Bhatta Narayana surnamed Mrigaraja or Simha, "the lion." He is one of the five Brahmins who, with five Kayesthas, came from Kanouj and settled in Bengal at the invitation of Adisura, the then king of Bengal. PROBODHA CHANDRODAYA. This play was composed by Krishnamisra. It is an allegorical play, the _dramatis personæ_ of which consist entirely of abstract ideas, divided into two conflicting hosts. HANUMANANATAKA. The play is a dramatized version of the story of Rama interspersed with numerous purely descriptive poetic passages. It consists of fourteen acts and on account of its great length is also called the Mahanataka, or the great drama. Tradition relates that it was composed by Hanuman, the monkey general, and inscribed on rocks; but, Valmiki, the author of the Ramayana, being afraid lest it might throw his own poem into the shade, Hanuman allowed him to cast his verses into the sea. Thence fragments were ultimately picked up by a merchant, and brought to King Bhoja, who directed the poet Damodara Misra to put them together, and fill up the lacunæ; whence the present composition originated. Whatever particle of truth there may be in this story, the "Great Drama" seems certainly to be the production of different hands. VASAVADATTA. Vasavadatta of Subandhu is a short romance, of which the story is this. Kandarpaketu, a young and valiant prince, son of Chintamani king of Kusumapura, saw in a dream a beautiful maiden of whom he became desperately enamoured. Impressed with the belief, that a person, such as was seen by him in his dream, had a real existence, he resolves to travel in search of her, and departs, attended only by his confidant Makaranda. While reposing under a tree in a forest at the foot of the Vindhya mountains, where they halted, Makaranda overhears two birds conversing, and from their discourse he learns that the princess Vasavadatta, having rejected all the suitors who had been assembled by the king her father for her to make choice of a husband, had seen Kandarpaketu in a dream, in which she had even dreamt his name. Her confidante, Tamalika, sent by her in search of the prince, had arrived at the same forest, and was discovered there by Makaranda. She delivers to the prince a letter from the princess, and conducts him to king's palace. He obtains from the princess the avowal of her love; and her confidante, Kalavati, reveals to the prince the violence of her passion. The lovers depart together: but, passing through the forest, he loses her, in the night. After long and unsuccessful search, in the course of which he reaches the shore of the sea, the prince, grown desperate through grief, resolves on death. But at the moment when he was about to cast himself into the sea, he hears a voice from heaven, which promises to him the recovery of his mistress, and indicates the means. After some time, Kandarpaketu finds a marble statue, the precise resemblance of Vasavadatta. It proves to be she; and she quits her marble form and regains animation. She recounts the circumstances under which she was transformed into stone. Having thus fortunately recovered his beloved princess, the prince proceeds to his city, where they pass many years in uninterrupted happiness. * * * * * OPINIONS OF EMINENT EDUCATIONISTS on "THE BOY'S RAMAYANA" ADOPTED BY THE HINDU SCHOOL CALCUTTA, THE KRISHNAGHUR COLLEGIATE SCHOOL, BETHUNE COLLEGIATE SCHOOL, DUPLEX COLLEGIATE SCHOOL &c., _Rev. George Bruce M. A. Senior Professor of English Literature, the Scottish churches College, Calcutta and Examiner to the University of Calcutta for the M.A. Examinations in English writes;--_ I have looked over Babu Ramanath Dutt's Ramayana. The English is simple and idiomatic. The story is given in an interesting manner. The style & language are, I think, well-suited for Matriculation students. THE SCOTTISH CHURCHES COLLEGE.} 4 Cornwallis Square, Calcutta.} GEORGE BRUCE M. A. _10 Sept.--1910_ } * * * * * _Mr. Jnan Ranjan Banerjee M. A., B. L. Vice-Principal and Professor of English Literature, Philosophy and Law, the Metropolitan Institution, Calcutta; University Lecturer in Philosophy and Examiner to the University of Calcutta writes:--_ I have looked through the M. S. of _Boy's Ramayan_ by Ramanath Dutta and am of opinion that it is written in a very aggreable style. It is exactly suited to the capacity of Matriculation students. Its chief characteristics are a very simple style and an interesting manner of relating stories. I feel free to say, that its study will go a long way towards familiarising boys in our schools with simple idiomatic English. CALCUTTA, } J. R. BANERJEE. } Vice-Principal, _29th Aug.--1910_} Metropolitan Institution. * * * * * _Mr. C. H. Linton. M.A., Professor of English Literature, The Central College, Calcutta & Examiner to the University of Calcutta for the Matriculation Examinations in English; Late Professor of English Literature, Muir Central College, Allahabad writes:--_ I have looked carefully through the pages of the "Boy's Ramayan." Mr. Dutt has written his book with commendable care making it one eminently adapted to the needs of Matriculation students. His language is simple clear & idiomatic and his style of narrative bright and entertaining. I feel confident that boys would read such a book over and over again, for the mere pleasure which its perusal afforded them. Were I in charge of a School, I should have no hesitation in including so delightful a work among the text books in English. CALCUTTA } C. H. LINTON M. A. } Prof. of English Literature _Sept. 5th--1910_ } Central College. * * * * * _Rai Bahadur Rasamaya Mitra M. A. Head Master Hindu School, Calcutta, the premier School of Bengal writes_ "The Boy's Ramayana" by Mr R. N. Dutt and Prof. Headland is a well-written book. The style is simple and correct. I have every reason to believe that the book is very well-suited to the capacity of Matriculation students. RASAMAYA MITRA. 6. 3. 11. Head master, Hindu School. * * * * * OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. _The Amrita Bazar Patrika in its issue of January 2, 1911 writes:--_ "The Boy's Ramayana"--The book is the only one we know of dealing with the subject of Ramayana in English suitable for school boys. It is written in simple and idiomatic English. We recommend the Universities and school committees to adopt it as a text-book. _The Indian Mirror in its issue of January 17, 1911 reviews the book thus:--_ A book, called "The Boy's Ramayana", would be a suitable text-book for Entrance candidates. The language is easy and naturally flowing and the style idiomatic and interesting. _The Bengalee in its issue of March 4, 1911 says:--_ The author has given the story of Valmiki's immortal Epic in elegant and idiomatic English and his mode of narration is highly interesting. We are confident that the work under notice is pre-eminently suited to the capacity of Matriculation students of Indian Universities. 
2290	----	TWENTY-TWO GOBLINS Translated from the Sanskrit by Arthur William Ryder CONTENTS Introduction Goblin-story 1. The Prince's Elopement. Whose fault was the resulting death of his parents-in-law? 2. The Three Lovers who brought the Dead Girl to Life. Whose wife should she be? 3. The Parrot and the Thrush. Which are worse, men or women? 4. King Shudraka and Hero's Family. Which of the five deserves the most honour? 5. The Brave Man, the Wise Man, and the Clever Man. To which should the girl be given? 6. The Girl who transposed the Heads of her Husband and Brother. Which combination of head and body is her husband? 7. The Mutual Services of King Fierce-lion and Prince Good. Which is the more deserving? 8. The Specialist in Food, the Specialist in Women, and the Specialist in Cotton. Which is the cleverest? 9. The Four Scientific Suitors. To which should the girl be given? 10. The Three Delicate Wives of King Virtue-banner. Which is the most delicate? 11. The King who won a Fairy as his Wife. Why did his counsellor's heart break? 12. The Brahman who died because Poison from a Snake in the Claws of a Hawk fell into a Dish of Food given him by a Charitable Woman. Who is to blame for his death? 13. The Girl who showed Great Devotion to the Thief. Did he weep or laugh? 14. The Man who changed into a Woman at Will. Was his wife his or the other man's? 15. The Fairy Prince Cloud-chariot and the Serpent Shell-crest. Which is the more self-sacrificing? 16. The King who died for Love of his General's Wife; the General follows him in Death. Which is the more worthy? 17. The Youth who went through the Proper Ceremonies. Why did he fail to win the magic spell? 18. The Boy whom his Parents, the King, and the Giant conspired to Kill. Why did he laugh at the moment of death? 19. The Man, his Wife, and her Lover, who all died for Love. Which was the most foolish? 20. The Four Brothers who brought a Dead Lion to Life. Which is to blame when he kills them all? 21. The Old Hermit who exchanged his Body for that of the Dead Boy. Why did he weep and dance? 22. The Father and Son who married Daughter and Mother. What relation were their children? Conclusion TWENTY-TWO GOBLINS INTRODUCTION On the bank of the Godavari River is a kingdom called the Abiding Kingdom. There lived the son of King Victory, the famous King Triple-victory, mighty as the king of the gods. As this king sat in judgment, a monk called Patience brought him every day one piece of fruit as an expression of homage. And the king took it and gave it each day to the treasurer who stood near. Thus twelve years passed. Now one day the monk came to court, gave the king a piece of fruit as usual, and went away. But on this day the king gave the fruit to a pet baby monkey that had escaped from his keepers, and happened to wander in. And as the monkey ate the fruit, he split it open, and a priceless, magnificent gem came out. When the king saw this, he took it and asked the treasurer: "Where have you been keeping the fruits which the monk brought? I gave them to you." When the treasurer heard this, he was frightened and said: "Your Majesty, I have thrown them all through the window. If your Majesty desires, I will look for them now." And when the king had dismissed him, he went, but returned in a moment, and said again: "Your Majesty, they were all smashed in the treasury, and in them I see heaps of dazzling gems." When he heard this, the king was delighted, and gave the jewels to the treasurer. And when the monk came the next day, he asked him: "Monk, why do you keep honouring me in such an expensive way? Unless I know the reason, I will not take your fruit." Then the monk took the king aside and said: "O hero, there is a business in which I need help. So I ask for your help in it, because you are a brave man." And the king promised his assistance. Then the monk was pleased, and said again: "O King, on the last night of the waning moon, you must go to the great cemetery at nightfall, and come to me under the fig-tree." Then the king said "Certainly," and Patience, the monk, went home well pleased. So when the night came, the mighty king remembered his promise to the monk, and at dusk he wrapped his head in a black veil, took his sword in his hand, and went to the great cemetery without being seen. When he got there, he looked about, and saw the monk standing under the fig-tree and making a magic circle. So he went up and said: "Monk, here I am. Tell me what I am to do for you." And when the monk saw the king, he was delighted and said: "O King, if you wish to do me a favour, go south from here some distance all alone, and you will see a sissoo tree and a dead body hanging from it. Be so kind as to bring that here." When the brave king heard this, he agreed, and, true to his promise, turned south and started. And as he walked with difficulty along the cemetery road, he came upon the sissoo tree at some distance, and saw a body hanging on it. So he climbed the tree, cut the rope, and let it fall to the ground. And as it fell, it unexpectedly cried aloud, as if alive. Then the king climbed down, and thinking it was alive, he mercifully rubbed its limbs. Then the body gave a loud laugh. So the king knew that a goblin lived in it, and said without fear: "What are you laughing about? Come, let us be off." But then he did not see the goblin on the ground any longer. And when he looked up, there he was, hanging in the tree as before. So the king climbed the tree again, and carefully carried the body down. A brave man's heart is harder than a diamond, and nothing makes it tremble. Then he put the body with the goblin in it on his shoulder, and started off in silence. And as he walked along, the goblin in the body said: "O King, to amuse the journey, I will tell you a story. Listen." FIRST GOBLIN _The Prince's Elopement. Whose fault was the resulting death of his parents-in-law?_ There is a city called Benares where Shiva lives. It is loved by pious people like the soil of Mount Kailasa. The river of heaven shines there like a pearl necklace. And in the city lived a king called Valour who burned up all his enemies by his valour, as a fire burns a forest. He had a son named Thunderbolt who broke the pride of the love-god by his beauty, and the pride of men by his bravery. This prince had a clever friend, the son of a counsellor. One day the prince was enjoying himself with his friend hunting, and went a long distance. And so he came to a great forest. There he saw a beautiful lake, and being tired, he drank from it with his friend the counsellor's son, washed his hands and feet, and sat down under a tree on the bank. And then he saw a beautiful maiden who had come there with her servants to bathe. She seemed to fill the lake with the stream of her beauty, and seemed to make lilies grow there with her eyes, and seemed to shame the lotuses with a face more lovely than the moon. She captured the prince's heart the moment that he saw her. And the prince took her eyes captive. The girl had a strange feeling when she saw him, but was too modest to say a word. So she gave a hint of the feeling in her heart. She put a lotus on her ear, laid a lily on her head after she had made the edge look like a row of teeth, and placed her hand on her heart. But the prince did not understand her signs, only the clever counsellor's son understood them all. A moment later the girl went away, led by her servants. She went home and sat on the sofa and stayed there. But her thoughts were with the prince. The prince went slowly back to his city, and was terribly lonely without her, and grew thinner every day. Then his friend the son of the counsellor took him aside and told him that she was not hard to find. But he had lost all courage and said: "My friend, I don't know her name, nor her home, nor her family. How can I find her? Why do you vainly try to comfort me?" Then the counsellor's son said: "Did you not see all that she hinted with her signs? When she put the lotus on her ear, she meant that she lived in the kingdom of a king named Ear-lotus. And when she made the row of teeth, she meant that she was the daughter of a man named Bite there. And when she laid the lily on her head, she meant that her name was Lily. And when she placed her hand on her heart, she meant that she loved you. And there is a king named Ear-lotus in the Kalinga country. There is a very rich man there whom the king likes. His real name is Battler, but they call him Bite. He has a pearl of a girl whom he loves more than his life, and her name is Lily. This is true, because people told me. So I understood her signs about her country and the other things." When the counsellor's son had said this, the prince was delighted to find him so clever, and pleased because he knew what to do. Then he formed a plan with the counsellor's son, and started for the lake again, pretending that he was going to hunt, but really to find the girl that he loved. On the way he rode like the wind away from his soldiers, and started for the Kalinga country with the counsellor's son. When they reached the city of King Ear-lotus, they looked about and found the house of the man called Bite, and they went to a house near by to live with an old woman. And the counsellor's son said to the old woman: "Old woman, do you know anybody named Bite in this city?" Then the old woman answered him respectfully: "My son, I know him well. I was his nurse. And I am a servant of his daughter Lily. But I do not go there now because my dress is stolen. My naughty son is a gambler and steals my clothes." Then the counsellor's son was pleased and satisfied her with his own cloak and other presents. And he said: "Mother, you must do very secretly what we tell you. Go to Bite's daughter Lily, and tell her that the prince whom she saw on the bank of the lake is here, and sent you with a love-message to her." The old woman was pleased with the gifts and went to Lily at once. And when she got a chance, she said: "My child, the prince and the counsellor's son have come to take you. Tell me what to do now." But the girl scolded her and struck her cheeks with both hands smeared with camphor. The old woman was hurt by this treatment, and came home weeping, and said to the two men: "My sons, see how she left the marks of her fingers on my face." And the prince was hopeless and sad, but the very clever counsellor's son took him aside and said, "My friend, do not be sad. She was only keeping the secret when she scolded the old woman, and put ten fingers white with camphor on her face. She meant that you must wait before seeing her, for the next ten nights are bright with moonlight." So the counsellor's son comforted the prince, took a little gold ornament and sold it in the market, and bought a great dinner for the old woman. So they two took dinner with the old woman. They did this for ten days, and then the counsellor's son sent her to Lily again, to find out something more. And the old woman was eager for dainty food and drink. So to please him she went to Lily's house, and then came back and said: "My children, I went there and stayed with her for some time without speaking. But she spoke herself of my naughtiness in mentioning you, and struck me again on the chest with three fingers stained red. So I came back in disgrace." Then the counsellor's son whispered to the prince: "Don't be alarmed, my friend. When she left the marks of three red fingers on the old woman's heart, she meant to say very cleverly that there were three dangerous days coming." So the counsellor's son comforted the prince. And when three days were gone, he sent the old woman to Lily again. And this time she went and was very respectfully entertained, and treated to wine and other things the whole day. But when she was ready to go back in the evening, a terrible shouting was heard outside. They heard people running and crying: "Oh, oh! A mad elephant has escaped from his stable and is running around and stamping on people." Then Lily said to the old woman: "Mother, you must not go through the street now where the elephant is. I will put you in a swing and let you down with ropes through this great window into the garden. Then you can climb into a tree and jump on the wall, and go home by way of another tree." So she had her servants let the old woman down from the window into the garden by a rope-swing. And the old woman went home and told the prince and the counsellor's son all about it. Then the counsellor's son said to the prince: "My friend, your wishes are fulfilled. She has been clever enough to show you the road. So you must follow that same road this very evening to the room of your darling." So the prince went to the garden with the counsellor's son by the road that the old woman had shown them. And there he saw the rope-swing hanging down, and servants above keeping an eye on the road. And when he got into the swing, the servants at the window pulled at the rope and he came to his darling. And when he had gone in, the counsellor's son went back to the old woman's house. But the prince saw Lily, and her face was beautiful like the full moon, and the moonlight of her beauty shone forth, like the night when the moon shines in secret because of the dark. And when she saw him, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. So he married her and stayed hidden with her for some days. One day he said to his wife: "My dear, my friend the counsellor's son came with me, and he is staying all alone at the old woman's house. I must go and see him, then I will come back." But Lily was shrewd and said: "My dear, I must ask you something. Did you understand the signs I made, or was it the counsellor's son?" And the prince said to her: "My dear, I did not understand them all, but my friend has wonderful wisdom. He understood everything and told me." Then the sweet girl thought, and said: "My dear, you did wrong not to tell me before. Your friend is a real brother to me. I ought to have sent him some nuts and other nice things at the very first." Then she let him go, and he went to his friend by night by the same road, and told all that his wife had said. But the counsellor's son said: "That is foolish," and did not think much of it. So they spent the night talking. Then when the time for the twilight sacrifice came, a friend of Lily's came there with cooked rice and nuts in her hand. She came and asked the counsellor's son about his health and gave him the present. And she cleverly tried to keep the prince from eating. "Your wife is expecting you to dinner," she said, and a moment later she went away. Then the counsellor's son said to the prince: "Look, your Majesty. I will show you something curious." So he took a little of the cooked rice and gave it to a dog that was there. And the moment he ate it, the dog died. And the prince asked the counsellor's son what this strange thing could mean. And he replied: "Your Majesty, she knew that I was clever because I understood her signs, and she wanted to kill me out of love for you. For she thought the prince would not be all her own while I was alive, but would leave her for my sake and go back to his own city. So she sent me poisoned food to eat. But you must not be angry with her. I will think up some scheme." Then the prince praised the counsellor's son, and said: "You are truly the body of wisdom." And then suddenly a great wailing of grief-stricken people was heard: "Alas! Alas! The king's little son is dead." When he heard this, the counsellor's son was delighted, and said: "Your Majesty, go to-night to Lily's house, and make her drink wine until she loses her senses and seems to be dead. Then as she lies there, make a mark on her hip with a red-hot fork, steal her jewels, and come back the old way through the window. After that I will do the right thing." Then he made a three-pronged fork and gave it to the prince. And the prince took the crooked, cruel thing, hard as the weapon of Death, and went by night as before to Lily's house. "A king," he thought, "ought not to disregard the words of a high-minded counsellor." So when he had stupefied her with wine, he branded her hip with the fork, stole her jewels, returned to his friend, and told him everything, showing him the jewels. Then the counsellor's son felt sure his scheme was successful. He went to the cemetery in the morning, and disguised himself as a hermit, and the prince as his pupil. And he said: "Take this pearl necklace from among the jewels. Go and sell it in the market-place. And if the policemen arrest you, say this: It was given to me to sell by my teacher.'" So the prince went to the market-place and stood there offering the pearl necklace for sale, and he was arrested while doing it by the policemen. And as they were eager to find out about the theft of the jewels from Bite's daughter, they took the prince at once to the chief of police. And when he saw that the culprit was dressed like a hermit, he asked him very gently: "Holy sir, where did you get this pearl necklace? It belongs to Bite's daughter and was stolen." Then the prince said to them: "Gentlemen, my teacher gave it to me to sell. You had better go and ask him." Then the chief of police went and asked him: "Holy sir, how did this pearl necklace come into your pupil's hand?" And the shrewd counsellor's son whispered to him: "Sir, as I am a hermit, I wander about all the time in this region. And as I happened to be here in this cemetery, I saw a whole company of witches who came here at night. And one of the witches split open the heart of a king's son, and offered it to her master. She was mad with wine, and screwed up her face most horribly. But when she impudently tried to snatch my rosary as I prayed, I became angry, and branded her on the hip with a three-pronged fork which I had made red-hot with a magic spell. And I took this pearl necklace from her neck. Then, as it was not a thing for a hermit, I sent it to be sold." When he heard this, the chief of police went and told the whole story to the king. And when the king heard and saw the evidence, he sent the old woman, who was reliable, to identify the pearl necklace. And he heard from her that Lily was branded on the hip. Then he was convinced that she was really a witch and had devoured his son. So he went himself to the counsellor's son, who was disguised as a hermit, and asked how Lily should be punished. And by his advice, she was banished from the city, though her parents wept. So she was banished naked to the forest and knew that the counsellor's son had done it all, but she did not die. And at nightfall the prince and the counsellor's son put off their hermit disguise, mounted on horseback, and found her weeping. They put her on a horse and took her to their own country. And when they got there, the prince lived most happily with her. But Bite thought that his daughter was eaten by wild beasts in the wood, and he died of grief. And his wife died with him. When he had told this story, the goblin asked the king: "O King, who was to blame for the death of the parents: the prince, or the counsellor's son, or Lily? You seem like a very wise man, so resolve my doubts on this point. If you know and do not tell me the truth, then your head will surely fly into a hundred pieces. And if you give a good answer, then I will jump from your shoulder and go back to the sissoo tree." Then King Triple-victory said to the goblin: "You are a master of magic. You surely know yourself, but I will tell you. It was not the fault of any of the three you mentioned. It was entirely the fault of King Ear-lotus." But the goblin said: "How could it be the king's fault? The other three did it. Are the crows to blame when the geese eat up the rice?" Then the king said: "But those three are not to blame. It was right for the counsellor's son to do his master's business. So he is not to blame. And Lily and the prince were madly in love and could not stop to think. They only looked after their own affairs. They are not to blame. "But the king knew the law-books very well, and he had spies to find out the facts among the people. And he knew about the doings of rascals. So he acted without thinking. He is to blame." When the goblin heard this, he wanted to test the king's constancy. So he went back by magic in a moment to the sissoo tree. And the king went back fearlessly to get him. SECOND GOBLIN _The Three Lovers who brought the Dead Girl to Life. Whose wife should she be?_ Then King Triple-victory went back under the sissoo tree to fetch the goblin. And when he got there and looked about, he saw the goblin fallen on the ground and moaning. Then, when the king put the body with the goblin in it on his shoulder and started to carry him off quickly and silently, the goblin on his shoulder said to him: "Oh King, you have fallen into a very disagreeable task which you do not deserve. So to amuse you I will tell another story. Listen." On the bank of Kalindi River is a farm where a very learned Brahman lived. And he had a very beautiful daughter named Coral. When the Creator fashioned her fresh and peerless loveliness, surely he must have despised the cleverness he showed before in fashioning the nymphs of heaven. When she had grown out of childhood, there came from the city of Kanauj three Brahman youths, endowed with all the virtues. And each of them asked her father for her, that she might be his own. And though her father would rather have died than give her up to anyone, he made up his mind to give her to one of them. But the girl would not marry any one of them for some time, because she was afraid of hurting the feelings of the other two. So they stayed there all three of them day and night, feasting on the beauty of her face, like the birds that live on moonbeams. Then all at once Coral fell sick of a burning fever and died. And when the Brahman youths saw that she was dead, they were smitten with grief. But they adorned her body, took it to the cemetery, and burned it. And one of them built a hut there, slept on a bed made of her ashes, and got his food by begging. The second took her bones and went to dip them in the sacred Ganges river. And the third became a monk and wandered in other countries. And as he wandered, the monk came to a village called Thunderbolt, and was entertained in the house of a Brahman. But when he had been honoured by the master of the house and had begun to eat dinner there, the little boy began to cry and would not stop even when they petted him. So his mother took him on her arm, and angrily threw him into the blazing fire. And being tender, he was reduced to ashes in a moment. When the monk saw this, his hair stood on end, and he said: "Alas! I have come into the house of a devil. I will not eat this food. It would be like eating sin." But the master of the house said to him: "Brahman, I have studied to good purpose. See my skill in bringing the dead to life." So he opened a book, took out a magic spell, read it, and sprinkled water on the ashes. And the moment the water was sprinkled, the boy stood up alive just as before. Then the monk was highly delighted and finished his dinner with pleasure. And the master of the house hung the book on an ivory peg, took dinner with the monk, and went to bed. When he was asleep, the monk got up quietly, and tremblingly took the book, hoping to bring his darling Coral back to life. He went away and travelled night and day, until he finally reached the cemetery. And he caught sight of the second youth, who had come back after dipping the bones in the Ganges. And he also found the third youth, who had made a hut and lived there, sleeping on the girl's ashes. Then the monk cried: "Brother, leave your hut. I will bring the dear girl back to life." And while they eagerly questioned him, he opened the book, and read the magic spell, and sprinkled holy water on the ashes. And Coral immediately stood up, alive. And the girl was more beautiful than ever. She looked as if she were made of gold. When the three youths saw her come back to life like that, they went mad with love, and fought with one another to possess her. One said: "I brought her to life by my magic spell. She is my wife." The second said: "She came to life because of my journey to the sacred river. She is my wife." The third said: "I kept her ashes. That is why she came to life. She is my dear wife." O King, you are able to decide their dispute. Tell me. Whose wife should she be? If you know and say what is false, then your head will split. When the king heard this, he said to the goblin: "The man who painfully found the magic spell and brought her back to life, he did only what a father ought to do. He is not her husband. And the man who went to dip her bones in the sacred river, he did only what a son ought to do. He is not her husband. But the man who slept with her ashes and lived a hard life in the cemetery, he did what a lover ought to do. He deserves to be her husband." When the goblin heard this answer of King Triple-victory, he suddenly escaped from his shoulder and went back. And the king wished to do as the monk had asked him; so he decided to go back and get him. Great-minded people do not waver until they have kept their promises, even at the cost of life. THIRD GOBLIN _The Parrot and the Thrush. Which are worse, men or women?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree to fetch the goblin. When he got there, he took the body with the goblin in it on his shoulder, and started off in silence. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him again: "O King, you must be very tired, coming and going in the night. So to amuse you I will tell another story. Listen." There is a city called Patna, the gem of the earth. And long ago a king lived there whose name was Lion-of-Victory. Fate had made him the owner of all virtues and all wealth. And he had a parrot called Jewel-of-Wisdom, that had divine intelligence and knew all the sciences, but lived as a parrot because of a curse. This king had a son called Moon, and by the advice of the parrot this prince married the daughter of the king of the Magadha country; and her name was Moonlight. Now this princess had a thrush named Moony, who was like the parrot, because she had learning and intelligence. And the parrot and the thrush lived in one cage in the palace. One day the parrot eagerly said to the thrush: "My darling, love me, and share my bed and my chair and my food and my amusements." But the thrush said: "I will have nothing to do with men. Men are bad and ungrateful." Then the parrot said: "Men are not bad. It is only women who are bad and cruel-hearted." And they quarrelled. Then the two birds wagered their freedom with each other and went to the prince to have their quarrel decided. And the prince mounted his father's judgment throne, and when he had heard the cause of the quarrel, he asked the thrush: "How are men ungrateful? Tell the truth." Then she said, "Listen, O Prince," and to prove her point she started to tell this story illustrating the faults of men. There is a famous city called Kamandaki, where a wealthy merchant lived named Fortune. And in time a son was born to him and named Treasure. Then when the father went to heaven, the young man became very unruly because of gambling and other vices. And the rascals came together, and ruined him. Association with scoundrels is the root from which springs the tree of calamity. So in no long time he lost all he had through his vices, and being ashamed of his poverty, he left his own country and went to wander in other places. And during his travels he came to a city called Sandal City, and entered the house of a merchant, seeking something to eat. When the merchant saw the youth, he asked him about his family, and finding that he was a gentleman, he entertained him. And thinking that Gate had sent the young man, he gave him his own daughter Pearl, together with some money. And when Treasure was married, he lived in his father-in-law's house. As time passed, he forgot his former miseries in the comforts of his life, and longed for the old vices, and wanted to go home. So the rascal managed to persuade his father-in-law, who had no other children, took his wife Pearl with her beautiful ornaments, and an old woman, and started for his own country. Presently he came to a wood where he said he was afraid of thieves, so he took all his wife's ornaments. Perceive, O Prince, how cruel and hard are the ungrateful hearts of those who indulge in gambling and other vices. And the scoundrel was ready, just for money, to kill his good wife. He threw her and the old woman into a pit. Then the rascal went away and the old woman perished there. But Pearl, with the little life she had left, managed to get out by clinging to the grass and bushes, and weeping bitterly, and bleeding, she asked the way step by step, and painfully reached her father's house by the way she had come. And her mother and father were surprised and asked her: "Why did you come back so soon, and in this condition?" And that good wife said: "On the road we were robbed, and my husband was forcibly carried off. And the old woman fell into a pit and died, but I escaped. And a kind-hearted traveller pulled me from the pit." Then her father and mother were saddened, but they comforted her, and Pearl stayed there, true to her husband. Then in time Treasure lost all his money in gambling, and he reflected: "I will get more money from the house of my father-in-law. I will go there and tell my father-in-law that his daughter is well and is at my house." So he went again to his father-in-law. And as he went, his ever-faithful wife saw him afar off. She ran and fell at the rascal's feet and told him all the story that she had invented for her parents. For the heart of a faithful wife does not change even when she learns that her husband is a rogue. Then that rascal went without fear into the house of his father-in-law and bowed low before his feet. And his father-in-law rejoiced when he saw him and made a great feast with his relatives, for he said: "My son is delivered alive from the robbers. Heaven be praised!" Then Treasure enjoyed the wealth of his father-in-law and lived with his wife Pearl. Now one night this worst of scoundrels did what I ought not to repeat, but I will tell it, or my story would be spoiled. Listen, O Prince. While Pearl lay asleep trusting him, that wretch killed her in the night, stole all her jewels, and escaped to his own country. This shows how bad and ungrateful men are. When the thrush had told her story, the prince smiled and said to the parrot: "It is your turn now." Then the parrot said: "Your Majesty, women are cruel and reckless and bad. To prove it, I will tell you a story. Listen." There is a city called Joyful, where lived a prince of merchants named Virtue, who owned millions of money. He had a daughter named Fortune, peerless in beauty, dearer to him than life. And she was given in marriage to a merchant's son from Copper City, whose name was Ocean. He was her equal in wealth, beauty, and family; a delight to the eyes of men. One day when her husband was away from home, she saw from the window a handsome young man. And the moment she saw him, the fickle girl went mad with love, and secretly sent a messenger to invite him in, and made love to him in secret. Thus her heart was fixed on him alone, and she was happy with him. But at last her husband came home and delighted the hearts of his parents-in-law. And when the day had been spent in feasting, Fortune was adorned by her mother, and sent to her husband's room. But she was cold toward him and pretended to sleep. And her husband went to sleep, too, for he was weary with his journey, and had been drinking wine. When everyone in the house had gone to sleep after their dinner, a thief made a hole in the wall and came into that very room. And just then the merchant's daughter got up without seeing him, and went out secretly to a meeting with her lover. And the thief was disappointed, and thought: "She has gone out into the night wearing the very jewels that I came to steal. I must see where she goes." So the thief went out and followed her. But she met a woman friend who had flowers in her hand, and went to a park not very far away. And there she saw the man whom she came to meet hanging on a tree. For the policeman had thought he was a thief, had put a rope around his neck and hanged him. And at the sight she went distracted, and lamented pitifully: "Oh, oh! I am undone," and fell on the ground and wept. Then she took her lover down from the tree and made him sit up, though he was dead, and adorned him with perfumes and jewels and flowers. But when in her love-madness she lifted his face and kissed him, a goblin who had come to live in her dead lover, bit off her nose. And she was startled and ran in pain from the spot. But then she came back to see if perhaps he was alive after all. But the goblin had gone, and she saw that he was motionless and dead. So she slowly went back home, frightened and disgraced and weeping. And the concealed thief saw it all and thought: "What has the wicked woman done? Alas! Can women be so dreadful as this? What might she not do next?" So out of curiosity the thief still followed her from afar. And the wretched woman entered the house and cried aloud, and said: "Save me from my cruel enemy, my own husband. He cut off my nose and I had done nothing." And her servants heard her cries and all arose in excitement. Her husband too awoke. Then her father came and saw that her nose was cut off, and in his anger he had his son-in-law arrested. And the poor man did not know what to do. Even when he was being bound, he remained silent and said nothing. Then they all woke up and heard the story, but the thief who knew the whole truth, ran away. And when day came, the merchant's son was haled before the king by his father-in-law. And Fortune went there without her nose, and the king heard the whole story and condemned the merchant's son to death for mistreating his wife. So the innocent, bewildered man was led to the place of execution and the drums were beaten. Just then the thief came up and said to the king's men: "Why do you kill this man without any good reason? I know how the whole thing happened. Take me to the king, and I will tell all." So all the king's men took him to the king. And the thief told the king all the adventures of the night, and said: "Your Majesty, if you cannot trust my word, you may find the nose at this moment between the teeth of the dead body." Then the king sent men to investigate, and when he found it was true, he released the merchant's son from the punishment of death. As for wretched Fortune, he cut off her ears, too, and banished her from the country. And he took from her father, the merchant, all his money, and made the thief the chief of police. He was pleased with him. O Prince, this shows how cruel and false women are by nature. As he spoke these words, the parrot changed into a god, for the curse was fulfilled, and went to heaven like a god. And the thrush suddenly became a goddess, for her curse was at an end, and flew up likewise to heaven. So their dispute was never settled at that court. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, tell me. Are men bad, or women? If you know and do not tell, your head will fly to pieces." And when the king heard these words of the goblin on his shoulder, he said to that magic goblin: "O goblin! Here and there, now and then, there is an occasional bad man like that. But women are usually bad. We hear about many of them." Then the goblin disappeared from the king's shoulder as before. And the king tried again to catch him. FOURTH GOBLIN _King Shudraka and Hero's Family. Which of the five deserves the most honour?_ Then King Triple-victory went back under the sissoo tree and caught the goblin, who gave a horse-laugh. But the king without fear put him on his shoulder as before and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder said to him again: "O King, why do you take such pains for that wretched monk? Have you no sense about this fruitless task? Well, after all, I like your devotion. So, to amuse the weary journey, I will tell you another story. Listen." There is a city called Beautiful, and it deserves the name. There lived a king named Shudraka, of tremendous power and mighty courage. He was so used to victory that the fire of his courage was kept blazing by the wind from the fans in the hands of the wives of his vanquished foes. Under his rule the earth was rich and always good, as in the days of old. And he was fond of brave men. Now one day a Brahman named Hero came from Malwa to pay his homage to this king. He had a wife named Virtue, a son named Trusty, and a daughter named Heroic. And he had just three servants, a dagger at his hip, a sword in his hand, and a shield in his other hand. These were all the servants he had when he asked the king for five hundred gold-pieces a day as his wages. And the king thought from his appearance that he was a remarkably brave man, so he gave him the wages he asked. But out of curiosity he put spies on his track, to learn what he did with all the money. Now Hero called on the king in the morning, and at noon he took his sword and stood at the palace gate and divided his daily salary. One hundred gold-pieces he gave to his wife for food and household expenses. And with another hundred he bought clothes and perfumes and nuts and such things. And another hundred he devoted to the worship of Vishnu and Shiva, after taking the ceremonial bath. And the two hundred which were left he gave to Brahmans and the unhappy and the poor. This was the way he divided and spent the money every day. Then after he had sacrificed and eaten dinner, he stood every night alone at the palace gate with his sword and shield. All this King Shudraka learned from his spies and was greatly pleased and forbad the spies to follow him again. For he thought him a wonderful man, worthy of especial honour. Then one day a veil of clouds covered the sky and poured down rain in streams day and night, so that the highway was quite deserted. Only Hero was at his post as usual by the palace gate. And when the sun set and dreadful darkness was spread abroad and the rain fell in sheets, the king wished to test Hero's behaviour. So at night he climbed to the palace roof and cried: "Who is there at the gate?" And Hero answered: "I am here." And the king thought: "How steadfast this man Hero is, and how devoted to me! I must surely give him a greater post." And he descended from the roof and entered the palace and went to bed. The next night it rained again in sheets and the world was wrapped in the darkness of death. And again the king thought to test his behaviour, and climbing to the roof he called out toward the palace gate: "Who is there?" And when Hero said: "I am here, your Majesty," the king was greatly astonished. Just then he heard at a distance a sweet-voiced woman crying. And he thought: "Who is this who laments so piteously, as if in deep despair? In my kingdom there is no violence, no poor man and none distressed. Who can she be?" And being merciful, he called to Hero, who stood below: "Listen, Hero. A woman is weeping at some distance. Go and learn why she weeps and who she is." And Hero said "Certainly," arranged his dagger, took his sword in his hand, and started. He did not even think of the pelting hail, the flashing lightning, or the rain and darkness. And when the king saw him setting out alone in a night like that, he was filled with pity and curiosity, and descending from the palace roof, took his sword and followed all alone, without being seen. As Hero traced the sound of crying, he came to a beautiful lake outside the city, and there he saw a woman in the midst of the water, lamenting in these words: "Alas for you, brave and merciful and generous! How shall I live without you?" And Hero was amazed, and timidly asked her: "Who are you, and why do you weep?" And she replied: "O Hero, I am the Goddess of the Earth, and now my lord, this virtuous King Shudraka, is going to die in three days. How shall I find another such master? So I am distracted with grief, and I lament." When Hero heard this, he was frightened and said: "Goddess, is there any remedy for this, any way in which the king might be saved?" And the goddess answered: "There is just one remedy, my son, and it is in your hands." And Hero said: "Goddess, tell me quickly, that I may adopt it at once. What good would life be to us otherwise?" Then the goddess said: "My son, there is no other man devoted to his master as you are: so you may learn how to save him. There is a temple to the Dreadful Goddess built by that king near his palace. If you sacrifice your son to her at once, then the king will not die. He will live another hundred years. If you do it this very night, then the blessing will come, not otherwise." And Hero, the hero, replied: "Then I will go, Goddess, and do it this moment." And the Goddess of the Earth said: "Good fortune go with you," and she vanished. And the king, who had followed secretly, heard it all. So he still followed to find out how Hero would behave. But Hero went straight home, woke his wife Virtue, and told her all that the Goddess of the Earth had said. And his wife said: "My dear, if so much depends on it, wake the boy and tell him." Then Hero woke the little boy, told him all, and said: "My boy, if you are sacrificed to the Dreadful Goddess, our king will live. If not, he will die in three days." And the boy was true to his name. Without fear and without hesitation he said: "My dear father, I am a lucky boy if the king lives at the cost of my life. Besides, that would pay for the food we have eaten. Why then delay? Take me quickly and sacrifice me to the goddess. May the king's evil fate be averted by my death!" And Hero was delighted and congratulated him, saying: "Well said! You are indeed my son." So Hero's wife Virtue and his daughter Heroic went through the night with Hero and Trusty to the temple of the Dreadful Goddess. The king too followed them, disguised and unnoticed. Then the father took Trusty from his shoulder in the presence of the goddess. And Trusty worshipped the goddess, and bravely saluted her, and said: "O Goddess, by the sacrifice of my head may the king live another hundred years and rule a thornless kingdom." And as he prayed, Hero cut off his head and offered it to the Dreadful Goddess, saying: "May the king live at the cost of my son's life!" Then a voice cried from heaven: "O Hero, who else is devoted to his master as you are? You have given life and royal power to the king at the cost of your only son, and such a son." All this the king himself saw and heard. Then Hero's daughter Heroic kissed the lips of her dead brother, and was blinded with sorrow, and her heart broke, and she died. Then Hero's wife Virtue said: "My dear, we have done our duty by the king. And you see how my daughter died of grief. So now I say: What good is life to me without my children? I was a fool before. I should have given my own head to save the king. So now permit me to burn myself at once." And when she insisted, Hero said: "Do so. What happiness is there in a life of constant mourning for your children? And as for your giving your own life instead, do not grieve about that. If there had been any other way, I should of course have given my life. So wait a moment. I will build you a funeral pile out of these logs." So he built the pile and lighted it. And Virtue fell at her husband's feet, then worshipped the Dreadful Goddess, and prayed: "O Goddess, may I have the same husband in another life, and may this same King Shudraka be saved at the cost of my son's life." And she died in the blazing fire. Then Hero thought: "I have done my duty by the king, as the heavenly voice admitted. And I have paid for the king's food which I have eaten. So now why should I want to live alone? It is not right for a man like me to go on living at the expense of all the family which I ought to support. Why should I not please the goddess by sacrificing myself?" So Hero first approached the goddess with a hymn of praise: "O Demon-slayer! Saviour! Devil-killer! Trident-holder! Joy of the wise! Protectress of the universe! Victory to thee, O best of mothers, whose feet the world adores! O fearless refuge of the pious! Kali of the dreadful ornaments! Honour and glory to thee, O kindly goddess! Be pleased to accept the sacrifice of my head in behalf of King Shudraka." Then he suddenly cut off his own head with his dagger. King Shudraka beheld this from his hiding-place, and was filled with amazement and grief and admiration. And he thought: "I have never seen or heard the like of this. That good man and his family have done a hard thing for me. In this strange world who else is so brave as that, to give his son, his family, and his life for his king: If I should not make a full return for his kindness, my kingdom would mean nothing to me, and my life would be the life of a beast. If I lost my virtue, it would all be a disgrace to me." But when he started to cut off his own head, there came a voice from heaven: "My son, do nothing rash. I am well pleased with your character. The Brahman Hero and his children and his wife shall come back to life." And when the voice ceased, Hero stood up alive and uninjured with his son and his daughter and his wife. Then the king hid himself again and looked on with eyes filled with tears of joy, and could not see enough of them. Now Hero, like a man awaking from a dream, gazed at his son and his wife and his daughter, and was greatly perplexed. He spoke to each by name, and asked them how they had come to life after being reduced to ashes. "Is this a fancy of mine? Or a dream? Or an illusion? Or the favour of the goddess?" And his wife and children said to him: "By the favour of the goddess we are alive." At last Hero believed it, and having worshipped the goddess, he went home happy with his children and his wife. And when he had seen his son and his wife and daughter safe at home, he went back that same night to the palace gate. And King Shudraka saw all this and went back without being seen himself, and climbed to the roof, and called: "Who is there at the gate?" And Hero replied: "Your Majesty, I, Hero, am here. At your command I followed the woman who cried. She must have been a witch, for she vanished the moment I saw her and spoke to her." When the king heard this, he was astonished beyond measure, for he had seen what really happened. And he thought: "Ah, the hearts of brave men are deep as the sea, if they do not boast after doing an unparalleled action." So the king descended from the roof, entered the palace, and passed the rest of the night there. Then when the court was held in the morning, Hero came to see the king. And as he stood there, the delighted king told all his counsellors and the others the story of the night. And all were amazed and confounded at hearing of Hero's virtues, and they praised him, crying: "Well done! Well done!" Then the king and Hero lived happily together, sharing the power equally. When the goblin had told this story, he asked King Triple-victory: "O King, which of all these was the most worthy? If you know and will not tell, then the curse I told you of will be fulfilled." And the king said to the goblin: "O magic creature, King Shudraka was the most noble of them all." But the goblin said: "Why not Hero, the like of whom as a servant is not to be found in the whole world? Or why should not his wife receive the most praise, who did not waver when she saw her son killed like a beast before her eyes? Or why is not the boy Trusty the most worthy, who showed such wonderful manhood when only a little boy? Why do you say that King Shudraka was the best among them?" Then the king answered the goblin: "Not Hero. He was a gentleman born, so it was his duty to save his king at the cost of life, wife and children. And his wife was a lady, a faithful wife who only did what was right in following her husband. And Trusty was their son, and like them. For the cloth is always like the threads. But the king has aright to use his subjects' lives to save his own. So when Shudraka gave his life for them, he proved himself the best of all." When the goblin heard this, he jumped from the king's shoulder and went back to his home without being seen. And the king was not disturbed by this magic, but started back through the night to catch him. FIFTH GOBLIN _The Brave Man, the Wise Man, and the Clever Man. To which should the girl be given?_ Then King Triple-victory went back to the sissoo tree and saw the body with the goblin in it hanging there just as before. He took it down without being frightened by all its twistings and writhings, and quickly set out again. And as he walked along in silence as before, the goblin said: "O King, you are obstinate, and you are pleasing to look at. So to amuse you, I will tell another story. Listen." There is a city called Ujjain, famous throughout the world. There lived a king named Merit, who had as counsellor a Brahman named Hariswami, adorned with all noble virtues. The counsellor had a worthy wife, and a son named Devaswami was born to her, and was as good as she. And they had one daughter named Moonlight, who was worthy of her name, for she was famous for her matchless beauty and charm. When the girl had grown out of childhood, she was proud of her wonderful beauty, and she told her mother, her father, and her brother: "I will marry a brave man or a wise man or a clever man. I should die if I were married to anyone else." Now while her father was busy looking for such a husband for her, he was sent by King Merit to another king in the southern country to make a treaty for war and peace. When he had finished his business, a Brahman youth, who had heard of his daughter's beauty, came and asked him for her. And he said: "My daughter will not marry anyone unless he is a clever man or a wise man or a brave man. Which of these are you? Tell me." And the Brahman said: "I am a clever man." "Show me," said the father, and the clever man made a flying chariot by his skill. Then he took Hariswami in this magic chariot, and carried him to the sky. And he took the delighted father to the camp of the king of the southern country where he had been on business. Then Hariswami appointed the marriage for the seventh day. At this time another Brahman youth in Ujjain came to the girl's brother and asked him for her. And when he was told that she would marry only a wise man or a clever man or a brave man, he said he was a brave man. Then when he had shown his skill with weapons, the brother promised his sister to the brave man. And without telling his mother, he consulted the star-gazers and appointed the marriage for the seventh day. At the same time a third Brahman youth came to the girl's mother and asked for the girl. And the mother said: "My son, a wise man or a clever man or a brave man shall marry my daughter but no one else. Which of these are you? Tell me." And he said: "I am a wise man." So she asked him about the past and the future, and found that he was a wise man. Then she promised to give him her daughter on the seventh day. The next day Hariswami came home and told his wife and his son all that he had done. And she and he each told him all that she or he had done. So Hariswami was greatly perplexed, because three bridegrooms had been invited. Then the seventh day came and the three bridegrooms came to Hariswami's house. Strange to say, at that moment Moonlight disappeared. Then the wise man said: "A giant named Smoke-tail has carried her to his den in the Vindhya forest." When Hariswami heard this from the wise man, he was frightened and asked the clever man to find a remedy for the trouble. And the clever man made a chariot as before, full of all kinds of weapons, and brought Hariswami with the wise man and the brave man in a moment to the Vindhya forest. And the wise man showed them the giant's den. When the giant saw what had happened, he came out in anger, and the brave man fought with him. Then came a famous duel with strange weapons between a man and a giant for the sake of a woman, like the ancient fight between Rama and Ravana. Though the giant was a terrible fighter, the brave man presently cut off his head with an arrow shaped like a half-moon. When the giant was killed, they found Moonlight in the den and all went back to Ujjain in the clever man's chariot. Then when the proper time for wedding came, there arose a great dispute among the three in Hariswami's house. The wise man said: "If I had not discovered her by my wisdom, how could you have found her hiding-place? She should be given to me." The clever man said: "If I had not made a flying chariot, how could you have gone there in a moment and come back like the gods, or how could you have had a chariot-fight with him? She should be given to me." The brave man said: "If I had not killed the giant in the fight, who would have saved her in spite of all your pains? The girl should be given to me." And as they quarrelled, Hariswami stood silent, confused, and perplexed. When the goblin had told this story, he said to the king: "O King, do you say to which of them she should be given. If you know and will not tell, then your head will split into a hundred pieces." Then the king broke silence and said: "She should be given to the brave man, who risked his life and killed the giant and saved the girl. The wise man and the clever man were only helpers whom Fate gave him. A star-gazer and a chariot-maker work for other people, do they not?" When the goblin heard this answer, he suddenly escaped from the king's shoulder and went back. And the king determined to get him, and went again to the sissoo tree. SIXTH GOBLIN _The Girl who transposed the Heads of her Husband and Brother. Which combination of head and body is her husband?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started in silence toward the monk. And the goblin said to him: "O King, you are wise and good, so I am pleased with you. To amuse you, therefore, I will tell you another story with a puzzle in it. Listen." Long ago there was a king named Glory-banner in the world. His city was named Beautiful. And in this city was a splendid temple to the goddess Gauri. And to the right of the temple was a lake called Bath of Gauri. And on a certain day in each year a great crowd of people came there on a pilgrimage from all directions to bathe. One day a laundryman named White came there from another village to bathe. And the youth saw a maiden who had also come there to bathe. Her name was Lovely, and her father's name was Clean-cloth. She robbed the moon of its beauty and White of his heart. So he inquired about her name and family and went home lovesick. When he got there, he was ill and could not eat without her. And when his mother asked him, he told her what was in his heart, but did not change his habits. But she went and told her husband, whose name was Spotless. So Spotless went and saw how his son was acting, and said: "My son, why should you be downcast? Your desire is not hard to obtain. For if I ask Clean-cloth, he will surely give you his daughter. We are not inferior to him in birth, wealth, or social position. I know him and he knows me. So there is no difficulty about it." Thus Spotless comforted his son, made him eat and take care of himself, went with him the next day to Clean-cloth's house, and asked that the girl might be given to his son White. And Clean-cloth graciously promised to give her to him. Then when the time came, Clean-cloth gave White his charming daughter, a wife worthy of him. And when he was married, White went happily to his father's house with his sweet bride. Now as he lived there happily, Lovely's brother came to visit. And when they had all asked him about his health and his sister had greeted him with a kiss, and after he had rested, he said: "My father sent me to invite Lovely and White to a festival in our house." And all the relatives said it was a good plan and entertained him that day with appropriate things to drink and eat. The next morning White set out for his father-in-law's house, together with his brother-in-law and Lovely. And when he came to the city Beautiful, he saw the great temple of Gauri. And he said to Lovely and her brother: "We will see this goddess. I will go first and you two stay here." So White went in to see the goddess. He entered the temple and bowed before the goddess whose eighteen arms had killed the horrible demons, whose lotus-feet were set upon a giant that she had crushed. And when he had worshipped her, an idea suddenly came to him. "People honour this goddess with all kinds of living sacrifices. Why should I not win her favour by sacrificing myself?" And he fetched a sword from a deserted inner room, cut off his own head, and let it fall on the floor. Presently his brother-in-law entered the temple to see why he delayed so long. And when he saw his brother-in-law with his head cut off, he went mad with grief, and cut off his own head in the same way with the same sword. Then when he failed to come out, Lovely was alarmed and entered the temple. And when she saw her husband and her brother in that condition, she cried: "Alas! This is the end of me!" and fell weeping to the floor. But presently she rose, lamenting for the pair so unexpectantly dead, and thought: "What is my life good for now?" Before killing herself, she prayed to the goddess: "O Goddess! One only deity of happiness and character! Partaker of the life of Shiva! Refuge of all women-folk! Destroyer of grief! Why have you killed my husband and my brother at one fell swoop? It was not right, for I was always devoted to you. Then be my refuge when I pray to you, and hear my one pitiful prayer. I shall leave this wretched body of mine on this spot, but in every future life of mine, O Goddess, may I have the same husband and brother." Thus she prayed, praised, and worshipped the goddess, then tied a rope to an ashoka tree which grew there. But while she was arranging the rope about her neck, a voice from heaven cried: "Do nothing rash, my daughter. Leave the rope alone. Though you are young, I am pleased with your unusual goodness. Place the two heads on the two bodies and they shall rise up again and live through my favour." So Lovely left the rope alone and joyfully went to the bodies. But in her great hurry and confusion she made a mistake. She put her husband's head on her brother's body and her brother's head on her husband's body. Then they arose, sound and well, like men awaking from a dream. And they were all delighted to hear one another's adventures, worshipped the goddess, and went on their way. Now as she walked along, Lovely noticed that she had made a mistake in their heads. And she was troubled and did not know what to do. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, when they were mingled in this way, which should be her husband? If you know and do not tell, then the curse I spoke of will be fulfilled." And the king said to the goblin: "The body with the husband's head on it is her husband. For the head is the most important member. It is by the head that we recognize people." Then the goblin slipped from the king's shoulder as before, and quickly disappeared. And the king went back, determined to catch him. SEVENTH GOBLIN _The Mutual Services of King Fierce-lion and Prince Good. Which is the more deserving?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started. And as he walked along, the goblin said: "O King, I will tell you a story to amuse your weariness. Listen." On the shore of the Eastern Ocean is Copper City. There a king named Fierce-lion lived. He turned his back to other men's wives, but not to fighting men. He destroyed his enemies, but not other men's wealth. One day a popular prince named Good came from the south to the king's gate. He introduced himself, but did not get what he wanted from the king. And he thought: "If I am born a prince, why am I so poor? And if I am to be poor, why did God give me so many desires? For this king pays no attention to me, though I wait upon him and grow weary and faint with hunger." While he was thinking, the king went hunting. He went with many horsemen and footmen, and the prince ran along in the dress of a pilgrim with a club in his hand. And during the hunt the king chased a great boar a long distance, and so came into another forest. There he lost sight of the boar, for the trail was covered with leaves and grass. And the king was tired and lost his way in the forest. Only the pilgrim-prince thought nothing of his life, and hungry and thirsty as he was, he followed on foot the king who rode a swift horse. And when the king saw him following, he spoke lovingly: "My good man, do you perhaps know the way we came?" And the pilgrim bowed low and said: "I know, your Majesty. But first rest yourself a moment. The blazing sun, the middle jewel in the girdle of heaven's bride, is terribly hot." Then the king said eagerly: "See if there is water anywhere." And the pilgrim agreed and climbed a high tree and looked around. And he saw a river and climbed down and took the king to it. He unsaddled the horse, gave him water and grass, and let him rest. And when the king had bathed, the pilgrim took two fine mangoes from his skirt, washed them and gave them to the king. "Where did you get these?" asked the king, and the pilgrim bowed and said: "Your Majesty, I have lived on such food for ten years. While I was serving your Majesty, I had to live like a monk." And the king said: "What can I say? You deserve your name of Good." And he was filled with pity and shame, and thought: "A curse on kings, who do not know whether their servants are happy or not! And a curse of their attendants, who do not tell them this and that!" And when the pilgrim insisted, the king was prevailed on to take the two mangoes. He rested there with the pilgrim and ate the mangoes and drank water with the pilgrim, who was accustomed to eat mangoes and drink water. Then the pilgrim saddled the horse and went ahead to show the way, and at last, at the king's command, mounted behind on the horse; so the king found his soldiers and went safely home. And when he got there, he proclaimed the devotion of the pilgrim, and made him a rich man, but could not feel that he had paid his debt. So Good stayed there happily with King Fierce-lion and stopped living as a pilgrim. One day the king sent Good to Ceylon to ask for the hand of the daughter of the King of Ceylon. So he set out after sacrificing to the proper god, and entered a ship with some Brahmans chosen by the king. And when the ship had safely reached the middle of the ocean, there suddenly arose from the waves a very large flag-pole made of gold, with a top that touched the sky. It was adorned with waving banners of various colours and was quite astonishing. At the same moment the clouds gathered, it began to rain violently, and a mighty wind blew. And the ship was driven by the storm winds and caught on the flag-pole. Then the pole began to sink, dragging the ship with it into the raging waves. And the Brahmans who were there were overcome with fear and cursed the name of their king Fierce-lion. But Good could not endure that because of his devotion to his king. He took his sword in his hand, girt up his garment, and threw himself after the flag-pole into the sea. He had no fear of the pole which seemed a refuge from the ocean. Then as he sank, the ship was battered by the winds and waves and broke up. And all in it fell into the mouths of sharks. But Good sank into the ocean, and when he looked about he saw a wonderful city. There he entered a shrine to Gauri, tall as the heavenly mountain, with great gem-sprinkled banners on walls made of different kinds of jewels, in a golden temple blazing with jewelled pillars, with a garden that had a pool, the stairs to which were made of splendid gems. After he had bowed low and praised and worshipped the goddess there, he sat down before her in amazement, wondering if it was all a conjuror's trick. Just then the door was suddenly opened by a heavenly maiden. Her eyes were like lotuses, her face like the moon. She had a smile like a flower and a body soft as lotus-stems. And a thousand women waited upon her. She entered the shrine of the goddess and the heart of Good at the same moment. And when she had worshipped the goddess there, she went out from the shrine, but not from the heart of Good. She entered a circle of light, and Good followed her. And he saw another splendid house, that seemed like a place of meeting for all riches and all enjoyments. And he saw the girl sitting on a jewelled couch, and he approached and sat beside her. He was like a man painted in a picture, for his eyes were fastened on her face. Now a servant of the maiden saw that his body was thrilled, that he was intent upon the maiden, that he was in love. She understood his feelings and said to him: "Sir, you are our guest. Enjoy the hospitality of my mistress. Arise. Bathe. Eat." And he felt a little hope at her words and went to a pool in the garden which she showed him. He plunged into the pool, and when he rose to the surface, he found himself in the pool of King Fierce-lion in Copper City. And when he saw that he had come there so suddenly, he thought: "Oh, what does it mean? Where is that heavenly garden? What a difference between the sight of that girl which was like nectar to me, and this immediate separation from her which is like terrible poison! It was no dream. I was awake when the serving-maid deceived me and made a fool of me." He was like a madman without the girl. He wandered in the garden and mourned in a lovelorn way. He was surrounded by wind-blown flower-pollen which seemed to him the yellow flames of separation. And when the gardener saw him in this state, he went and told the king. And the king was troubled. He went himself to see Good, and asked him soothingly: "What does this mean? Tell me, my friend. Where did you go? And where did you come? And where did you stay? And what did you fall into?" Then Good told him the whole adventure. And the king thought: "Ah, it is fortunate for me that this brave man is lovelorn. For now I have a chance to pay my debt to him." So the king said to him: "My friend, give over this vain grief. I will go with you by the same road, and bring you to the heavenly maiden." So he comforted Good, and made him take a bath. The next day he transferred his royal duties to his counsellors and entered a ship with Good. Good showed the way through the sea and they saw the flag-pole with its banners rising as before in the middle of the ocean. Then Good said to the king: "Your Majesty, here is the magic flag-pole standing up. When I sink down there, you must sink too along the flag-pole." So when they came near the sinking pole, Good jumped first, and the king followed him. They sank down and came to the heavenly city. And the king was astonished, and after he had worshipped the goddess, he sat down with Good. Then the girl, like Beauty personified, came out of the circle of light with her friends. "There she is, the lovely creature," said Good, and the king thought: "He is quite right to love her." But when she saw the king looking like a god, she wondered who the strange and wonderful man might be, and entered the shrine to worship the goddess. But the king took Good and went into the garden to show how little he cared about her. A moment later the girl came from the shrine; she had been praying for a good husband. And she said to a girl friend: "My friend, I wonder where I could see the man who was here. Where is the great man? You girls must hunt for him and ask him to be good enough to come and accept our hospitality. For he is a wonderful man, and we must be polite to him." So the girl found him in the garden and gave him her mistress' message very respectfully. But the brave king spoke loftily to her: "Your words are hospitality enough. Nothing else is necessary." Now when her mistress had heard what he said, she thought he was a noble character, better than anybody else. She was attracted by the courage of the king in refusing a sort of hospitality which was almost too much to offer a mere man, and thought about the fulfilment of her prayer for a husband. So she went into the garden herself. She drew near to the king and lovingly begged him to accept her hospitality. But the king pointed to Good and said: "My dear girl, he told me of the goddess here, and I came to see her. And by following the flag-pole I saw the goddess and her very marvellous temple. It was only afterwards that I happened to see you." Then the girl said: "O King, you may be interested in seeing a city which is the wonder of the three worlds." And the king laughed and said: "He told me about that, too. I believe there is a pool for bathing there." And the girl said: "O King, do not say that. I am not a deceitful girl. Why should I deceive an honourable man, especially as your noble character has made me feel like a servant? Pray do not refuse me." So the king agreed and went with Good and the girl to the edge of the circle of light. There a door opened and he entered and saw another heavenly city like a second hill of heaven; for it was built of gems and gold, and the flowers and fruits of every season grew there at the same time. And the princess seated the king on a splendid throne and brought him gifts and said: "Your Majesty, I am the daughter of the great god Black-wheel. But Vishnu sent my father to heaven. And I inherited these two magic cities where one has everything he wants. There is no old age or death to trouble us here. And now you are in the place of my father to rule over the cities and over me." So she offered him herself and all she had. But the king said: "In that case you are my daughter and I give you in marriage to my brave friend good." In the king's words she saw the fulfilment of her prayer, and being sensible and modest, she agreed. So the king married them and gave all the magic wealth to happy Good, and said: "My friend, I have paid you now for one of the two mangoes which I ate. But I remain in your debt for the second." Then he asked the princess how he could get back to his city. And she gave the king a sword called Invincible, and the magic fruit which wards off birth, old age, and death. And the king took the sword and the fruit, plunged into the pool which she showed him, and came up in his own country, feeling completely successful. But Good ruled happily over the kingdom of the princess. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, which of these two deserves more credit for plunging into the sea?" And the king was afraid of the curse, so he gave a true answer: "Good seems to me the more deserving, for he did not know the truth beforehand, but plunged without hope into the sea, while the king knew the truth when he jumped." And as soon as the king broke silence, the goblin slipped from his shoulder as before without being seen and went to the sissoo tree. And the king tried as before to catch him. Brave men do not waver until they have finished what they have begun. EIGHTH GOBLIN _The Specialist in Food, the Specialist in Women, and the Specialist in Cotton. Which is the cleverest?_ So the king went back under the sissoo tree, caught the goblin just as before, put him on his shoulder, and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder spoke and said: "O King, listen once more to the following story to beguile your weariness." In the Anga country there is a great region called Forest. There lived a great Brahman, pious and wealthy, whose name was Vishnu-swami. To his worthy wife three sons were born, one after another. When they had grown to be young men, specialists in matters of luxury, they were sent one day by their father to find a turtle for a sacrifice which he had begun. So the brothers went to the ocean and there they found a turtle. Then the eldest said to the two younger: "One of you take this turtle for Father's sacrifice. I cannot carry a slimy thing that smells raw." But when the eldest said this, the two younger said: "Sir, if you feel disgust, why shouldn't we?" When the eldest heard this, he said: "You take the turtle, otherwise Father's sacrifice will be ruined on your account. Then you and Father too will surely go to hell." When they heard him, the two younger brothers laughed and said: "Sir, you seem to know our common duty, but not your own." Then the eldest said: "What? Are you not aware that I am a connoisseur in food? For I am a specialists in foods. How can I touch this loathsome thing?" When he heard these words, the second brother said: "But I am even more of a connoisseur. I am a specialist in women. So how can I touch it?" After this speech, the eldest said to the youngest: "Do you then, being younger than we, carry the turtle." Then the youngest frowned and said to them: "Fools! I am a great specialist in cotton." So the three brothers quarrelled, and arrogantly leaving the turtle behind them, they went to have the matter decided at Pinnacle, the capital of a king called Conqueror. When they came there, and had been announced and introduced by the door-keeper, they told their story to the king. And when the king had heard all, he said: "Stay here. I will examine you one after another." So they agreed and all stayed there. Then the king invited them in at his own dinner hour, seated them on magnificent seats, and set before them sweet dishes of six flavours, fit for a king. While all the rest ate, one of the Brahmans, the specialist in food, disgustedly shook his head and refused to eat. And when the king himself asked him why he would not eat food that was sweet and savoury, he respectfully replied: "Your Majesty, in this food there is the odour of smoke from a burning corpse. Therefore, I do not wish to eat it, however sweet it may be." Then at the king's command all the rest smelt of it and declared it the best of winter rice, and perfectly sweet. But the food-critic held his nose and would not touch it. Now when the king reflected and made a careful investigation, he learned from the commissioners that the dish was made of rice grown near a village crematory. Then he was greatly astonished and pleased, and said: "Brahman, you are certainly a judge of food. Pray take something else." After dinner the king dismissed them to their rooms, and sent for the most beautiful woman of his court. And at night he sent this lovely creature, all adorned, to the second brother, the specialist in women. She came with a servant of the king to his chamber, and when she entered, she seemed to illuminate the room. But the judge of women almost fainted, and stopping his nose with his left hand, he said to his servants: "Take her away! If not, I shall die. A goaty smell issues from her." So the servants, in distress and astonishment, conducted her to the king and told him what had happened. Then the king sent for the specialist in women, and said: "Brahman, she has anointed herself with sandal, camphor, and aloes, so that a delightful perfume pervades her neighbourhood. How could this woman have a goaty smell?" But in spite of this the specialist in women would not yield. And when the king endeavoured to learn the truth, he heard from her own lips that in her infancy she had been separated from her mother and had been brought up on goat's milk. Then the king was greatly astonished and loudly praised the critical judgment of the specialist in women. Quickly he had a couch prepared for the third brother, the specialist in cotton. So the critic of cotton went to sleep on a bed with seven quilts over the frame and covered with a pure, soft coverlet. When only a half of the first watch of the night was gone, he suddenly started from the bed, shouting and writhing with pain, his hand pressed to his side. And the king's men who were stationed there saw the curly red outline of a hair deeply imprinted on his side. They went at once and informed the king, who said to them: "See whether there is anything under the quilts or not." So they went and searched under each quilt, and under the last they found one hair, which they immediately took and showed to the king. And the king summoned the specialist in cotton, and finding the mark exactly corresponding to the hair, was filled with extreme astonishment. And he spent that night wondering how the hair could sink into his body through seven quilts. Now when the king arose in the morning, he was delighted with their marvellous critical judgment and sensitiveness, so that he gave each of the three specialists a hundred thousand gold-pieces. And they were contented and stayed there, forgetting all about the turtle, and thus incurring a crime through the failure of their father's sacrifice. When he had told this remarkable story, the goblin on the king's shoulder said: "O King, remember the curse I spoke of and declare which of these three was the cleverest." When he heard this, the wise king answered the goblin: "Without doubt I regard the specialist in cotton as the cleverest, on whose body the imprint of the hair was seen to appear visibly. The other two might possibly have found out beforehand." When the king had said this, the goblin slipped from his shoulder as before. And the king went back under the sissoo tree again to fetch him. NINTH GOBLIN _The Four Scientific Suitors. To which should the girl be given?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started. And the goblin spoke to him again: "O King, why do you go to such pains in this cemetery at night? Do you not see the home of the ghosts, full of dreadful creatures, terrible in the night, wrapped in darkness as in smoke? Why do you work so hard and grow weary for the sake of that monk? Well, to amuse the journey, listen to a puzzle which I will tell you." In the Avanti country is a city built by the gods at the beginning of time, adorned with wonderful wealth and opportunities for enjoyment. In the earliest age it was called Lotus City, then Pleasure City, then Golden City, and now it is called Ujjain. There lived a king named Heroic. And his queen was named Lotus. One day the king went with her to the sacred Ganges river and prayed to Shiva that he might have children. And after long prayer he heard a voice from heaven, for Shiva was at last pleased with his devotion: "O King, there shall be born to you a brave son to continue your dynasty, and a daughter more beautiful than the nymphs of heaven." When he heard the heavenly voice, the king was delighted at the fulfilment of his wishes, and went back to his city with the queen. And first Queen Lotus bore a son called Brave, and then a daughter named Grace who put the god of love to shame. When the girl grew up, the king sought for a suitable husband for her, and invited all the neighbouring princes by letter, but not one of them seemed good enough for her. So the king tenderly said to his daughter: "My dear, I do not see a husband worthy of you, so I will summon all the kings hither, and you shall choose." But the princess said: "My dear father, such a choice would be very embarrassing. I would rather not. Just marry me to any good-looking young man, who understands a single science from beginning to end. I wish nothing more nor less than that." Now while the king was looking for such a husband, four brave, good-looking, scientific men from the south heard of the matter and came to him. And when they had been hospitably received, each explained his own science to the king. The first said: "I am a working-man, and my name is Five-cloth. I make five splendid suits of clothes a day. One I give to some god and one to a Brahman. One I wear myself, and one I shall give to my wife when I have one. The fifth I sell, to buy food and things. This is my science. Pray give me Grace." The second said: "I am a farmer, and my name is Linguist. I understand the cries of all beasts and birds. Pray give me the princess." The third said: "I am a strong-armed soldier, and my name is Swordsman. I have no rival on earth in the science of swordsmanship. O King, pray give me your daughter." The fourth said: "O King, I am a Brahman, and my name is Life. I possess a wonderful science. For if dead creatures are brought to me, I can quickly restore them to life. Let your daughter find a husband in a man who has such heroic skill." When they had spoken, and the king had seen that they all had wonderful garments and personal beauty, he and his daughter swung in doubt. When the goblin had told this story, he said to the king: "Remember the curse I mentioned, and tell me to which of them the girl should be given." And the king said to the goblin: "Sir, you are merely trying to gain time by making me break silence. There is no puzzle about that. How could a warrior's daughter be given to a working-man, a weaver? Or to a farmer, either? And as to his knowledge of the speech of beasts and birds, of what practical use is it? And what good is a Brahman who neglects his own affairs and turns magician, despising real courage? Of course she should be given to the warrior Swordsman who had some manhood with his science." When the goblin heard this, he escaped by magic from the king's shoulder, and disappeared. And the king followed him as before. Discouragement never enters the brave heart of a resolute man. TENTH GOBLIN _The Three Delicate Wives of King Virtue-banner. Which is the most delicate?_ Then the king went to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder once more, and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder said: "O King, I will tell you a strange story to relieve your weariness. Listen." There once was a king in Ujjain, whose name was Virtue-banner. He had three princesses as wives, and loved them dearly. One of them was named Crescent, the second Star, and the third Moon. While the king lived happily with his wives, he conquered all his enemies, and was content. One day at the time of the spring festival, the king went to the garden to play with his three wives. There he looked at the flower-laden vines with black rows of bees on them; they seemed like the bow of the god of love, all ready for service. He heard the songs of nightingales in the trees; they sounded like commands of Love. And with his wives he drank wine which seemed like Love's very life-blood. Then the king playfully pulled the hair of Queen Crescent, and a lotus-petal fell from her hair into her lap. And the queen was so delicate that it wounded her, and she screamed and fainted. And the king was distracted, but when servants sprinkled her with cool water and fanned her, she gradually recovered consciousness. And the king took her to the palace and waited upon his dear wife with a hundred remedies which the physicians brought. And when the king saw that she was made comfortable for the night, he went to the palace balcony with his second wife Star. Now while she slept on the king's breast, the moonbeams found their way through the window and fell upon her. And she awoke in a moment, and started up, crying "I am burned!" Then the king awoke and anxiously asked what the matter was, and he saw great blisters on her body. When he asked her about it, Queen Star said: "The moonbeams that fell on me did it." And the king was distracted when he saw how she wept and suffered. He called the servants and they made a couch of moist lotus-leaves, and dressed her wounds with damp sandal-paste. At that moment the third queen, Moon, left her room to go to the king. And as she moved through the noiseless night, she clearly heard in a distant part of the palace the sound of pestles grinding grain. And she cried: "Oh, oh! It will kill me!" She wrung her hands and sat down in agony in the hall. But her servants returned and led her to her room, where she took to her bed and wept. And when the servants asked what the matter was, she tearfully showed her hands with bruises on them, like two lilies with black bees clinging to them. So they went and told the king. And he came in great distress, and asked his dear wife about it. She showed her hands and spoke, though she suffered: "My dear, when I heard the sound of the pestles, these bruises came." Then the king made them give her a cooling plaster of sandal-paste and other things. And the king thought: "One of them was wounded by a falling lotus-petal. The second was burned by the moonbeams. The third had her hands terribly bruised by the sound of pestles. I love them dearly, but alas! The very delicacy which is so great a virtue, is positively inconvenient." And he wandered about in the palace, and it seemed as if the night had three hundred hours. But in the morning the king and his skilful physicians took such measures that before long his wives were well and he was happy. When he had told this story, the goblin asked: "O King, which of them was the most delicate?" And the king said: "The one who was bruised by the mere sound of the pestles, when nothing touched her. The other two who were wounded or blistered by actual contact with lotus-petals or moonbeams, are not equal to her." When the goblin heard this, he went back, and the king resolutely hastened to catch him again. ELEVENTH GOBLIN _The King who won a Fairy as his Wife. Why did his counsellor's heart break?_ Then the king went as before to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started back. And the goblin said once more: "O King, I like you wonderfully well because you are not discouraged. So I will tell you a delightful little story to relieve your weariness. Listen." In the Anga country was a young king named Glory-banner, so beautiful that he seemed an incarnation of the god of love. He had conquered all his enemies by his strength of arm, and he had a counsellor named Farsight. At last the king, proud of his youth and beauty, entrusted all the power in his quiet kingdom to his counsellor, and gradually devoted himself entirely to pleasure. He spent all his time with the ladies of the court, and listened more attentively to their love-songs than to the advice of statesmen. He took greater pleasure in peeping into their windows than into the holes in his administration. But Farsight bore the whole burden of public business, and never wearied day or night. Then the people began to murmur: "The counsellor Farsight has seduced the king, and now he alone has all the kingly glory." And the counsellor said to his wife, whose name was Prudence: "My dear, the king is devoted to his pleasures, and great infamy is heaped upon me by the people. They say I have devoured the kingdom, though in fact I support the burden of it. Now popular gossip damages the greatest man. Was not Rama forced to abandon his good wife by popular clamour? So what shall I do now?" Then his clever wife Prudence showed that she deserved her name. She said: "My dear, leave the king and go on a pilgrimage. Tell him that you are an old man now, and should be permitted to travel in foreign countries for a time. Then the gossip will cease, when they see that you are unselfish. And when you are gone, the king will bear his own burdens. And thus his levity will gradually disappear. And when you come back, you can assume your office without reproach." To this advice the counsellor assented, and said to the king in the course of conversation: "Your Majesty, permit me to go on a pilgrimage for a few days. Virtue seems of supreme importance to me." But the king said: "No, no, counsellor. Is there no other kind of virtue except in pilgrimages? How about generosity and that kind of thing? Isn't it possible to prepare for heaven in your own house?" Then the counsellor said: "Your Majesty, one gets worldly prosperity from generosity and that kind of thing. But a pilgrimage gives eternal life. A prudent man should attend to it while he has strength. The chance may be lost, for no one can be sure of his health." But the king was still arguing against it when the doorkeeper came in and said: "Your Majesty, the glorious sun is diving beneath the pool of heaven. Arise. The hour for your bath is slipping away." And the king went immediately to bathe. The counsellor went home, still determined on his pilgrimage. He would not let his wife go with him, but started secretly. Not even his servants knew. He wandered alone through many countries to many holy places, and finally came to the Odra country. There he saw a city near the ocean, where he entered a temple to Shiva and sat down in the court. There he sat, hot and dusty from long travel, when he was seen by a merchant named Treasure who had come to worship the god. The merchant gathered from his dress and appearance that he was a high-born Brahman, and invited him home, and entertained him with food, bathing, and the like. When the counsellor was rested, the merchant asked him: "Who are you? Whence do you come? And where are you going?" And the other replied: "I am a Brahman named Farsight. I came here on a pilgrimage from the Anga country." Then the merchant Treasure said to him: "I am preparing for a trading voyage to Golden Island. Do you stay in my house. And when I come back, and you are wearied from your pilgrimage, rest here for a time before going home." But Farsight said: "I do not want to stay here. I would rather go with you." And the good merchant agreed. And the counsellor slept in the first bed he had lain in for many nights. The next day he went to the seashore with the merchant, and entered the ship loaded with the merchant's goods. He sailed along, admiring the wonders and terrors of the sea, till at last he reached Golden Island. There he stayed for a time until the merchant had finished his buying and selling. Now on the way back, he saw a magic tree suddenly rising from the ocean. It had beautiful branches, boughs of gold, fruits of jewels, and splendid blossoms. And sitting on a jewelled couch in the branches was a lovely maiden of heavenly beauty. And while the counsellor wondered what it all meant, the maiden took her lute in her hand, and began to sing: Whatever seed of fate is sown, The fruit appears--'tis strange! Whatever deed a man has done, Not God himself can change. And when she had made her meaning clear, the heavenly maiden straightway sank with the magic tree and the couch. And Farsight thought: "What a wonderful thing I have seen to-day! What a strange place the ocean is for the appearance of a tree with a fairy in it! And if this is a usual occurrence at sea, why do not other goddesses arise?" The pilot and other sailors saw that he was astonished, and they said: "Sir, this wonderful maiden appears here regularly, and sinks a moment after, but the sight is new to you." Then the counsellor, filled with amazement, came to the shore with Treasure, and disembarked. And when the merchant had unloaded his goods and caused his servants to rejoice, the counsellor went home with him and spent many happy days there. At last he said to Treasure: "Merchant, I have rested happily for a long time in your house. Now I wish to go to my own country. Peace be with you!" And in spite of urging from the merchant, Farsight took his leave, and started with no companion except his own courage. He went through many countries and at last reached the Anga country. And scouts who had been sent by King Glory-banner saw him before he reached the city. When the king learned of it, he went himself out of the city to meet him, for he had been terribly grieved by the separation. He drew near, embraced and greeted the counsellor and took him, all worn and dusty with the weary journey, into an inner room. And as soon as the counsellor was refreshed, the king said: "Counsellor, why did you leave us? How could you bring yourself to do so harsh and loveless a thing? But after all, who can understand the strange workings of stern necessity? To think that you should decide all at once to wander off on a pilgrimage! Well, tell me what countries you visited, and what new things you saw." Then the counsellor told him the whole story truthfully and in order, the journey to Golden Island and the fairy who rose singing from the sea, her wonderful beauty and the magic tree. But the king immediately fell in love so hopelessly that his kingdom and his life seemed worthless to him without her. He took the counsellor aside and said: "Counsellor, I simply must see her. Remember that I shall die if I do not. I bow to my fate. I will take the journey which you took. You must not refuse me nor accompany me. I shall go alone and in disguise. You must rule the kingdom, and not dispute my words. Swear to do it on your life." So he spoke, and would not listen to advice, but dismissed the counsellor. Then Farsight was unhappy though a great festival was made for him. How can a good counsellor be happy when his master devotes himself to a vice? The next night King Glory-banner threw the burden of government on that excellent counsellor, assumed the dress of a hermit, and left his city. And as he travelled, he saw a monk named Grass, who said when the king bowed before him as a holy man: "My son, if you sail with a merchant named Fortune, you will obtain the maiden you desire. Go on fearlessly." So the king bowed again and went on rejoicing. After crossing rivers and mountains he came to the ocean. And on the shore he met at once the merchant Fortune whom the monk had mentioned, bound for Golden Island. And when the merchant saw the king's appearance and his signet ring, he bowed low, took him on the ship, and set sail. When the ship reached the middle of the sea, the maiden suddenly arose, sitting in the branches of the magic tree. And as the king gazed eagerly at her, she sang as before to her lute: Whatever seed of fate is sown The fruit appears--'tis strange! Whatever deed a man has done, Not God himself can change. Whatever, how, for whom, and where 'Tis fated so to be, That thing, just so, for him, and there Must happen fatally. This song she sang, hinting at what was to happen. And the king gazed at her smitten by love, and could not move. Then he cried: "O Sea, in hiding her, you deceive those who think they have your treasures. Honour and glory to you! I seek your protection. Grant me my desire!" And as the king prayed, the maiden sank with the tree. Then the king jumped after her into the sea. The good merchant Fortune thought he was lost and was ready to die of grief. But he was comforted by a voice from heaven which said: "Do nothing rash. There is no danger when he sinks in the sea. For he is the king Glory-banner, disguised as a hermit. He came here for the sake of the maiden; she was his wife in a former life. And he will win her and return to his kingdom in the Anga country." So the merchant sailed on to complete his business. But King Glory-banner sank in the sea, and all at once he saw a heavenly city. He looked in amazement at the balconies with their splendid jewelled pillars, their walls bright with gold, and the network of pearls in their windows. And he saw gardens with pools that had stairways of various gems, and magic trees that yielded all desires. But rich as it was, the city was deserted. He entered house after house, but did not find the maiden anywhere. Then he climbed a high balcony built of gems, opened a door, and entered. And there he saw her all alone, lying on a jewelled couch, and clad in splendid garments. He eagerly raised her face to see if it was really she, and saw that it was indeed the maiden he sought. At the sight of her he had the strange feeling of the traveller in a desert in summer at the sight of a river. And she opened her eyes, saw that he was handsome and loveable, and left her couch in confusion. But she welcomed him and with downcast eyes that seemed like full-blown lotuses she did honour to his feet. Then she slowly spoke: "Who are you, sir? How did you come to this inaccessible under-world? And what is this hermit garb? For I see that you are a king. Oh, sir, if you would do me a kindness, tell me this." And the king answered her: "Beautiful maiden, I am King Glory-banner of the Anga country, and I heard from a reliable person that you were to be seen on the sea. To see you I assumed this garb, left my kingdom, and followed you hither. Oh, tell me who you are." Then she said to him with bashful love: "Sir, there is a king of the fairies named Moonshine. I am his daughter, and my name is Moonlight. Now my father has left me alone in this city. I do not know where he went with the rest of the people, or why. Therefore, as my home is lonely, I rise through the ocean, sit on a magic tree, and song about fate." Then the king remembered the words of the monk, and urged her with such gentle, tender words that she confessed her love and agreed to marry him. But she made a condition: "My dear, on four set days in each month you must let me go somewhere unhindered and unseen. There is a reason." And the king agreed, married her, and lived in heavenly happiness with her. While he was living in heavenly bliss, Moonlight said to him one day: "My dear, you must wait here. I am going somewhere on an errand. For this is one of the set days. While you stay here, sweetheart, you must not go into that crystal room, nor plunge into this pool. If you do, you will find yourself at that very moment in the world again." So she said good-bye and left the city. But the king took his sword and followed, to learn her secret. And he saw a giant approaching with a great black cave of a mouth that yawned like the pit. The giant fell down and howled horribly, then took Moonlight into his mouth and swallowed her. And the king's anger blazed forth. He took his great sword, black as a snake that has sloughed its skin, ran up wrathfully, and cut off the giant's head. He was blinded by his madness, he did not know what to do, he was afflicted by the loss of his darling. But Moonlight split open the stomach of the giant, and came out alive and unhurt, like the brilliant, spotless moon coming out from a black cloud. When he saw that she was saved, the king cried: "Come, come to me!" and ran forward and embraced her. And he asked her: "What does it mean, dearest? Is this a dream, or an illusion?" And the fairy answered: "My dear, listen to me. It is not a dream, nor an illusion. My father, the king of the fairies, laid this curse upon me. My father had many sons, but he loved me so that he could not eat without me. And I used to come to this deserted spot twice a month to worship Shiva. "One day I came here and it happened that I spent the whole day in worship. That day my father waited for me and would not eat or drink anything, though he was hungry and angry with me. At night I stood before him with downcast eyes, for I had done wrong. And he forgot his love and cursed me--so strong is fate. Because you have despised me and left me hungry a whole day, a giant named Terror-of-Fate will swallow you four times a month when you leave the city. And each time you will split him open and come out. And you shall not remember the curse afterwards, nor the pain of being swallowed alive. And you must live here alone.' "But when I begged him, he thought awhile and softened his curse. When Glory-banner, King of the Angas, shall become your husband, and shall see you swallowed by the giant, and shall kill the giant, then the curse shall end, and you shall remember all your magic arts.' Then he left me here, and went with his people to the Nishadha mountain. But I stayed here because of the curse. And now the curse is ended, and I remember everything. So now I shall go to the Nishadha mountain to see my father. Of course now I remember how to fly. And you are at liberty to stay here, or to go back to your own kingdom." Then the king was sad, and he begged her thus: "My beautiful wife, do not go for seven days. Be as kind as you are beautiful. Let me be happy with you in the garden, and forget my longings. Then you may go to your father, and I will go home." So he persuaded her, and was happy with her for six days in the garden. And the lilies in the ponds looked like longing eyes, and the ripples like hands raised to detain them, and the cries of swans and cranes seemed to say: "Do not leave us and go away." On the seventh day the king cleverly led his wife to the pool from which one could get back to the world. There he threw his arms about her and plunged into the pool, and came up with her in the pool in the garden of his own palace. The gardeners saw that the king had come back with a wife, and they joyfully ran and told the counsellor Farsight. He came and fell at the king's feet, and then led the king and the fairy into the palace. And the counsellor and the people thought: "Wonderful! The king has won the fairy whom others could see only for a moment like the lightning in the sky. Whatever is written in one's fate, that comes true, however impossible it may be." But when Moonlight saw that the king was in his own country, and the seven days were over, she thought she would fly away like other fairies. But she could not remember how. Then she became very sad, like a woman who has been robbed. And the king said: "Why are you so sad, my dear? Tell me." And the fairy said: "The curse is over. Yet because I have been bound so long in the fetters of your love, I have lost my magic arts. I cannot fly." Then the king thought: "The fairy is really mine," and he was happy and made a great feast. When the counsellor Farsight saw this, he went home, and lay down on his bed, and his heart broke, and he died. Then the king governed the kingdom himself, and lived for a long time in heavenly happiness with Moonlight. When he had told this story, the goblin said: "O King, when the king was so happy, why should the counsellor's heart break? Was it from grief because he did not win the fairy himself? Or from sorrow because the king came back, and he could no longer act as king? If you know and will not tell me, then you will lose your virtue, and your head will go flying into a hundred pieces." And the king said to the goblin: "O magic creature, neither of these reasons would be possible for a high-minded counsellor. But he thought: The king used to neglect his duties for the sake of ordinary women. What will happen now, when he loves a fairy? In spite of all my efforts, a terrible misfortune has happened.' I think that was why his heart broke." Then the magic goblin went back to his tree in a moment. And the king was still determined to catch him, and went once more to the sissoo tree. TWELFTH GOBLIN _The Brahman who died because Poison from a Snake in the Claws of a Hawk fell into a Dish of Food given him by a Charitable Woman. Who is to blame for his death?_ Then the King went back under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started as before. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him again: "O King, listen to a very condensed story." There is a city called Benares. In it lived a Brahman named Devaswami, whom the king honoured. He was very rich, and he had a son named Hariswami. This son had a wonderful wife, and her name was Beautiful. No doubt the Creator put together in her the priceless elements of charm and loveliness after his practice in making the nymphs of heaven. One night Hariswami was sleeping on a balcony cooled by the rays of the moon. And a fairy prince named Love-speed was flying through the air, and as he passed he saw Beautiful asleep beside her husband. He took her, still asleep, and carried her off through the air. Presently Hariswami awoke, and not seeing the mistress of his life, he rose in anxiety. And he wondered: "Oh, where has my wife gone? Is she angry with me? Or is she playing hide-and-seek with me, to see how I will take it?" So he roamed anxiously all over the balcony during the rest of the night. But he did not find her, though he searched as far as the garden. Then he was overcome by his sorrow and sobbed convulsively. "Oh, Beautiful, my darling! Fair as the moon! White as the moonlight! Was the night jealous of your beauty; did she carry you away? Your loveliness shamed the moon who refreshed me with beams cool as sandal; but now that you are gone, the same beams torment me like blazing coals, like poisoned arrows!" And as Hariswami lamented thus, the night came to an end, but his anguish did not end. The pleasant sun scattered the darkness, but could not scatter the blind darkness of Hariswami's madness. His pitiful lamentations increased a hundredfold, when the nightly cries of the birds ended. His relatives tried to comfort him, but he could not pluck up courage while his loved one was lost. He went here and there, sobbing out: "Here she stood. And here she bathed. And here she adorned herself. And here she played." His relatives and friends gave him good advice. "She is not dead," they said. "Why should you make way with yourself? You will surely find her. Pluck up courage and hunt for her. Nothing is impossible to the brave and determined man." And when they urged him, Hariswami after some days plucked up heart. He thought: "I will give all my fortune to the Brahmans, and then wander to holy places. Thus I will wear away my sins, and when my sins are gone, perhaps I shall find my darling in my wanderings." So he arose and bathed. On the next day he provided food and drink, and made a great feast for the Brahmans, and gave them all he had except his piety. Then he started to wander to holy places, hoping to find his wife. As he wandered, the summer came on him like a lion, the blazing sun its mouth, and the sunbeams its mane. And the hot wind blew, made hotter yet by the sighs of travellers separated from their wives. And the yellow mud dried and cracked, as if the lakes were broken-hearted at the loss of their lotuses. And the trees, filled with chirping birds, seemed to lament the absence of the spring, and their withering leaves seemed like lips that grow dry in the heat. At this time Hariswami was distressed by the heat and the loss of his wife, by hunger, thirst, and weariness. And as he sought for food, he came to a village. There he saw many Brahmans eating in the house of a Brahman named Lotus-belly, and he leaned against the doorpost, speechless and motionless. Then the good wife of that pious Brahman pitied him, and she thought: "Hunger is a heavy burden. It makes anyone light. Look at this hungry man standing with bowed head at the door. He looks like a pious man who has come from a far country, and he is tired. Therefore he is a proper person for me to feed." So the good woman took in her hands a dish filled with excellent rice, melted butter, and candied sugar, and courteously gave it to him. And she said: "Go to the edge of our pond, and eat it." He thanked her, took the dish, went a little way, and set it down under a fig-tree on the edge of the pond. Then he washed his hands and feet in the pond, rinsed his mouth, and joyfully drew near to eat the good food. At that moment a hawk settled on the tree, carrying a black snake in his beak and claws. And the snake died in the grasp of the hawk, and his mouth opened, and a stream of poison came out. This poison fell into the dish of food. But Hariswami did not see it. He came up hungry, and ate it all. And immediately he felt the terrible effects of the poison. He stammered out: "Oh, when fate goes wrong, everything goes wrong. Even this rice and the milk and the melted butter and the candied sugar is poison to me." And he staggered up to the Brahman's wife and said: "Oh, Brahman's wife, I have been poisoned by the food you gave me. Bring a poison-doctor at once. Otherwise you will be the murderer of a Brahman." And the good woman was terribly agitated. But while she was running about to find a poison-doctor, Hariswami turned up his eyes and died. Thus, though she was not to blame, though she was really charitable, the poor wife was reproached by the angry Brahman who thought she had murdered her guest. She was falsely accused for a really good action. So she was dejected and went on a pilgrimage. When he had told this story, the goblin said: "O King, who murdered the Brahman? the snake, or the hawk, or the woman who gave him the food, or her husband? This was discussed in the presence of the god of death, but they could not decide. Therefore, O King, do you say. Who killed the Brahman? Remember the curse, if you know and do not tell the truth." Then the king broke silence and said: "Who did the murder? The snake cannot be blamed, because he was being eaten by his enemy and could not help himself. The hawk was hungry and saw nothing. He was not to blame. And how can you blame either or both of the charitable people who gave food to a guest who arrived unexpectedly? They were quite virtuous, and cannot be blamed. I should say that the dead man himself was to blame, for he dared to accuse one of the others." When the goblin heard this, he jumped from the king's shoulder and escaped to the sissoo tree. And the king ran after him again, determined to catch him. THIRTEENTH GOBLIN _The Girl who showed Great Devotion to the Thief. Did he weep or laugh?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him: "O King, I will tell you another story. Listen." There is a city called Ayodhya, which was once the capital of Rama the exterminator of giants. In this city lived a strong-armed king named Hero-banner who protected the world as a wall protects a city. During his reign a great merchant named Jewel lived in the city. His wife was named Pleasing, and a daughter named Pearl was given to her prayers. As the girl grew up in her father's house, her natural virtues grew too: beauty, charm, and modesty. And thus she became a young woman. Now in her young womanhood she was asked in marriage not only by great merchants, but even by kings. But she was prudent and did not like men. She would not have loved a god if he had been her husband. She was ready to die at merely hearing talk of her marriage. So her father was silent on the subject, though his tender love for her made him sad. And the story was known everywhere in Ayodhya. At this time all the citizens were being plundered by thieves, and they petitioned King Hero-banner in these words: "O King, we are plundered every night by thieves, and cannot catch them. Your Majesty must decide what to do." So the king stationed night-watchmen in hiding about the city, to search out the thieves. When the watchmen failed to catch the thieves for all their searching, the king himself took his sword, and wandered about alone at night. And he saw a man creeping along a wall with noiseless steps, often casting a fearful glance behind him. The king concluded that this was the thief who all alone robbed the city, and went up to him. And the thief asked him who he was. The king replied: "I am a thief." Then the thief said joyfully: "Good! You are my friend. Come to my house. I will treat you like a friend." So the king agreed and went with the thief to a house hidden in a grove and guarded by a wall, full of delightful and beautiful things, and bright with shining gems. There the thief offered the king a seat, and went into an inner room. At that moment a serving-maid came into the room and said to the king: "Your Majesty, why have you come into the jaws of death? This wonderful thief has gone out, intending to do you a mischief. He is certainly treacherous. Go away quickly." So the king quickly went away, returned to the city, and drew up a company of soldiers. With these soldiers he went and surrounded the house where the serving-maid had been. When the thief saw that the house was surrounded, he knew that he was betrayed, and came out to fight and die like a man. He showed more than human valour. He cut off the trunks of elephants, the legs of horses, and the heads of men; and he was all alone, with only his sword and shield. When the king saw that his army was destroyed, he ran forward himself. The king was a scientific swordsman, so with a turn of his wrist he sent the sword and the dagger flying from the thief's hand. Then he threw away his own sword, wrestled with the thief, threw him, and took him alive. The next morning the thief was led to the place of execution to be impaled, and the drums were beaten. And Pearl, the merchant's daughter, saw him from her balcony. All bloody and dusty as he was, she went mad with love, found her father, and said to him: "Father, I am going to marry that thief who is being led to execution. You must save him from the king. Otherwise I shall die with him." But her father said: "What do you mean, my daughter? That thief stole everything the citizens had, and the king's men are going to kill him. How can I save him from the king? Besides, what nonsense are you talking?" But the more he scolded, the more determined she became. And as he loved his daughter, he went to the king and offered all he had for the release of the thief. But the king would not be tempted by millions. He would not release the thief who stole everything, whom he had captured at the risk of his life. So the father returned home sadly. And the girl, not heeding the arguments of her relatives, took a bath, entered a litter, and went to the death-scene of the rogue, to die with him. Her parents and her relatives followed her, weeping. At that moment the executioners impaled the thief. As his life ebbed away, he saw the girl and the people with her, and learned her story. Then the tears rolled down his cheeks, but he died with a smile on his lips. The faithful girl took the thief's body from the stake, and mounted the pyre to burn herself. But the blessed god Shiva was staying invisibly in the cemetery, and at that moment he spoke from the sky: "O faithful wife, I am pleased with your constancy to the husband of your choice. Choose whatever boon you will from me." The girl worshipped the gracious god and chose her boon: "O blessed one, my father has no son. May he have a hundred. Otherwise his childless life would end when I am gone." And the god spoke again from the sky: "O faithful wife, your father shall have a hundred sons. But choose another boon. A woman faithful as you are deserves more than the little thing you asked." Then she said: "O god, if I have won your favour, may this my husband live and always be a good man." The invisible Shiva spoke from the sky: "So be it. Your husband shall be made alive and well. He shall be a good man, and King Hero-banner shall be pleased with him." Then the thief arose at once, alive and well. And the merchant Jewel was overjoyed and astonished. He took Pearl and the thief, his son-in-law, went home with his rejoicing relatives, and made a feast great as his own delight, in honour of the sons he was to have. And the king was pleased when he learned the story, and in recognition of the stupendous courage of the thief, he appointed him general at once. The thief reformed, married the merchant's daughter, and lived happily with her, devoted to virtue. When the goblin had told this story, he reminded the king of the curse, and said: "O king, when the thief on the stake saw the merchant's daughter approaching with her father, did he weep or laugh? Tell me." And the king answered: "He thought: I can make no return to this merchant for his unselfish friendship.' Therefore he wept from grief. And he also thought: Why does this girl reject kings and fall in love with a thief like me? How strange women are!' Therefore he laughed from astonishment." When the goblin heard this, he immediately slipped from the king's shoulder and escaped to his home. But the king was not discouraged. He followed him to the sissoo tree. FOURTEENTH GOBLIN _The Man who changed into a Woman at Will. Was his wife his or the other man's?_ So the king went back as before under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin told the king a story. There was a city called Shivapur in Nepal. Long ago a king named Glory-banner lived there, and he deserved the name. He laid the burden of government on his counsellor named Ocean-of-Wisdom, and devoted himself to a life of pleasure with his wife Moonbright. In course of time a daughter named Moonlight was born to them, pleasing as the moonlight to the eyes of men. When she grew up, she went one day in spring with her servants to a festival in the garden. There she was seen by a Brahman youth named Master-mind, the son of Rich, who had come there to the festival. When he saw her plucking flowers with one arm uplifted, he went mad with love. His heart was taken captive by the gay maiden, and he was no longer master of his mind. He thought: "Is she the goddess of love, plucking the spring flowers in person? Or is she a forest goddess, come here to worship the spring-time?" Then the princess saw him, like a new god of love incarnate. The moment her eyes fell on him, she fell in love, forgetting her flowers and even her own limbs. While they looked at each other, lost in love like people in a picture, a great wail of anguish arose. They lifted their heads to learn what the matter was, and just then an elephant that had broken his chain, maddened by the scent of another mad elephant, came by, crushing the people in his path. He had thrown off his driver and the ankus hung from him as he ran. And everyone fled in terror. But the youth Master-mind ran up in a hurry and took the princess in his arms. And with a mixture of fear and love and modesty she half embraced him as he carried her far out of the elephant's path. Then her people gradually gathered, and she went to the palace, looking at the youth, and burning over the flame of love. And the youth went home from the garden, and thought: "I cannot live, I cannot exist a moment without her. I must seek help from my teacher Root, who is a thorough rogue." And so the day slowly passed. The next morning he went to his teacher Root, and found him with his constant friend Moon. He drew near, bowed, and told his desire. And the teacher laughed and promised to help him. So that wonderful rogue put a magic pill in his mouth, and thus changed himself into an old Brahman. He put a second pill into Master-mind's mouth, which changed him into a lovely girl. Then that prince of rogues took him to the king and said: "O King, this maiden has come a long distance to marry my only son. But my son has gone away, and I am going to look for him. Please keep the girl. For you are a protector to be trusted while I am looking for my son." The king was afraid of a curse, so he promised to do it. And summoning his daughter, he said: "Daughter, keep this maiden in your chamber, and let her live with you." So the girl took the Brahman youth Master-mind in his girl form to her own apartments. When Root had gone away, Master-mind in his girl form lived with his beloved, and in a few days came to know her in an intimate and loving way, as girl friends do. Then when he saw that she was pining away and tossing on her couch, he asked the princess one evening: "My dear girl, why do you grow pale and thin day by day, grieving as if separated from your love? Tell me. Why not trust a loving, innocent girl like me? If you will not tell me, I shall starve myself." And the princess trusted him and said after a little hesitation: "My dear girl, why should I not trust you? Listen. I will tell you. One day I went to the spring festival in the garden. There I saw a handsome Brahman youth, fair as the moon but not so cold, the sight of whom kindled my love. For he adorned the garden as the spring-time does. While my eager eyes were feasting on his face, a great mad elephant that had broken his chain came charging and thundering past like a black cloud in the dry season. My servants scattered in terror, and I was helpless. But the Brahman youth took me in his arms and carried me far away. I seemed to be in a sandal bath, in a stream of nectar. I cannot tell how I felt as I touched him. Presently my servants gathered around, and I was brought here helpless. I felt as if I had fallen from heaven to earth. From that day I see in my thoughts my dear preserver beside me. I embrace him in my dreams. What need of more words? I wear away the time, thinking constantly of him and only him. The fire of separation from the lord of my life devours me day and night." When Master-mind heard these welcome words, he rejoiced and counted himself happy. And thinking the time to reveal himself had come, he took the pill from his mouth, and disclosed his natural form. And he said: "Beautiful maiden, I am he whom you bought and enslaved with a kindly glance in the garden. I was sick at the separation from you; so I took the form of a girl, and came here. So now bring heaven in a loving glance to my love-tortured heart." When the princess saw that the lord of her life was beside her, she was torn between love and wonder and modesty, and did not know what she ought to do. So they were secretly married and lived there in supreme happiness. Master-mind lived in a double form. By day he was a girl with the pill in his mouth, by night a man without the pill. After a time the brother-in-law of King Glory-banner gave his daughter with great pomp to a Brahman, the son of the counsellor Ocean-of-Wisdom. And the princess Moonlight was invited to her cousin's wedding and went to her uncle's house. And Master-mind went with her in his girl form. When the counsellor's son saw Master-mind in his lovely girl form, he was terribly smitten with the arrows of love. His heart was stolen by the sham girl, and he went home feeling lonely even with his wife. It made him crazy to think of that lovely face. When his father tried to soothe him, he woke from his madness and stammered out his insane desire. And his father was terribly distressed, knowing that all this depended on another. Then the king learned the story and came there. When the king saw his condition and perceived that he was seven parts gone in love, he said: "How can I give him the girl who was intrusted to me by the Brahman? Yet without her he will be ten parts gone in love, and will die. And if he dies, then his father, the counsellor, will die too. And if the counsellor perishes, my kingdom will perish. What shall I do?" He consulted his counsellors, and they said: "Your Majesty, the first duty of a king is the preservation of the virtue of his people. This is the fundamental principle, and is established as such among counsellors. If the counsellor is lost, the fundamental principle is lost; how then can virtue be preserved? So in this case it would be sinful to destroy the counsellor through his son. You must by all means avoid the loss of virtue which would ensue. Give the Brahman's girl to the counsellor's son. And when the Brahman returns, further measures will suggest themselves." To this the king agreed, and promised to give the sham girl to the counsellor's son. So Master-mind in his girl form was brought from the chamber of the princess, and he said to the king: "Your Majesty, I was brought here by somebody for a given purpose. If you give me to somebody else, well and good. You are the king. Right and wrong depend on you. I will marry him to-day, but only on one condition. My husband shall go away immediately after the marriage and not return until he has been on a pilgrimage for six months. Otherwise I shall bite out my tongue." So the counsellor's son was summoned, and he joyfully assented. He made the man his wife at once, put the sham wife in a guarded room and started on a pilgrimage. So Master-mind lived there in his woman form. When he realized that the counsellor's son would soon return, Master-mind fled by night. And Root heard the story, and again assumed the form of an old Brahman. He took his friend Moon, went to Glory-banner, and said respectfully: "Your Majesty, I have brought my son. Pray give me my daughter-in-law." The king was afraid of a curse, so he said: "Brahman, I do not know where your daughter-in-law has gone. Be merciful. To atone for my carelessness, I will give your son my own daughter." The prince of rogues in the form of an old Brahman angrily refused. But the king finally persuaded him, and with all due form married his daughter Moonlight to Moon, who pretended to be the old Brahman's son. Then Root went home with the bride and bridegroom. But then Master-mind came, and in the presence of Root, a great dispute arose between him and Moon. Master-mind said: "Moonlight should be given to me. I married the girl first with my teacher's permission." Moon said: "Fool! What rights have you in my wife? Her father gave her to me in regular marriage." So they disputed about the princess whom one had won by fraud and the other by force. But they could reach no decision. O King, tell me. Whose wife is she? Resolve my doubts, and remember the agreement about your head. Then the king said: "I think she is the rightful wife of Moon. For she was married to him in the regular way by her father in the presence of her relatives. Master-mind married her secretly, like a thief. And when a thief takes things from other people, it is never right." When the goblin heard this, he went back home as before. And the king stuck to his purpose. He went back again, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started from the sissoo tree. FIFTEENTH GOBLIN _The Fairy Prince Cloud-chariot and the Serpent Shell-crest. Which is the more self-sacrificing?_ So the king walked along with the goblin. And the goblin said: "O king, listen to a story the like of which was never heard." There is a mountain called Himalaya where all gems are found. It is the king of mountains. Its proud loftiness is everywhere the theme of song. The sun himself has not seen its top. On its summit is a city called Golden City, brilliant like a heap of sunbeams left in trust by the sun. There lived a glorious fairy-king named Cloud-banner. In the garden of his palace was a wishing-tree which had come down to him from his ancestors. King Cloud-banner had worshipped the tree which was really a god, and by its grace had obtained a son named Cloud-chariot. This son remembered his former lives. He was destined to be a Buddha in a future life. He was generous, noble, merciful to all creatures, and obedient to his parents. When he grew up, the king anointed him crown prince, persuaded thereto by his counsellors as well as by the remarkable virtues of the youth. While Cloud-chariot was crown prince, his father's counsellors came to him one day and kindly said: "Crown prince, you must always honour this wishing-tree in your garden; for it yields all desires, and cannot be taken away by anybody. As long as it is favourably disposed to us, the king of the gods could not conquer us, and of course nobody else could." Then Cloud-chariot thought: "Alas! The men of old had this heavenly tree, yet they did not pluck from it any worthy fruit. They were mean-spirited. They simply begged it for some kind of wealth. And so they degraded themselves and the great tree too. But I will get from it the wish which is in my heart." With this thought the noble creature went to his father. He showed such complete deference as to delight his father, then when his father was comfortably seated, he whispered: "Father, you know yourself that in this sea of life all possessions, including our own bodies, are uncertain as a rippling wave. Especially is money fleeting, uncertain, fickle as the twilight lightning. The only thing in life which does not perish is service. This gives birth to virtue and glory, twin witnesses through all the ages to come. Father! Why do we keep such a wishing-tree for the sake of transient blessings? Our ancestors clung to it, saying: It is mine, it is mine.' And where are they now? What is it to them, or they to it? Then, if you bid me, I will beg this generous wishing-tree for the one fruit that counts, the fruit of service to others." His father graciously assented, and Cloud-chariot went to the wishing-tree, and said: "O god, you have fulfilled the wishes of our fathers. Fulfil now my one single wish. Remove poverty from the world. A blessing be with you. Go. I give you to the needy world." And as Cloud-chariot bowed reverently, there came a voice from the tree: "I go, since you give me up." And the wishing-tree immediately flew from heaven and rained so much money on the earth that nobody was poor. And Cloud-chariot's reputation for universal benevolence was spread about. But all the relatives were jealous and envious. They thought that they could easily conquer Cloud-chariot and his father without the wishing-tree, and they prepared to fight to take away his kingdom. But Cloud-chariot said to his father: "Father, how can you take your weapons and fight? What high-minded man would want a kingdom after killing his relatives just for the sake of this wretched, perishable body? Let us abandon the kingdom, and go away somewhere to devote ourselves entirely to virtue. Then we shall be blessed in both worlds. And let these wretched relatives enjoy the kingdom which they hanker after." And Cloud-banner said: "My son, I only want the kingdom for you, and if you give it up from benevolent motives, what good is it to me? I am an old man." So Cloud-chariot left the kingdom and went with his father and mother to the Malabar hills. There he built a hermit's retreat, and waited on his parents. One day, as he wandered about, he met Friend-wealth, the son of All-wealth, who lived there as king of the Siddhas. And Cloud-chariot spoke to him and made friends with him. Then one day Cloud-chariot saw a shrine to the goddess Gauri in the grove, and entered there. And he saw a slender, lovely maiden surrounded by her girl friends and playing on a lute, in honour of Gauri. The deer listened to her music and her song, motionless as if ashamed because her eyes were lovelier than their own. When Cloud-chariot saw the slender maiden, his heart was ravished. And he seemed to her to make the garden beautiful like the spring-time. A strange longing came over her. She became so helpless that her friends were alarmed. Then Cloud-chariot asked one of her friends: "My good girl, what is your friend's sweet name? What family does she adorn?" And the friend said: "This is Sandal, sister of Friend-wealth, and daughter of the king of the Siddhas." Then she earnestly asked for the name and family of Cloud-Chariot from a hermit's son who had come with him. And then she spoke to Sandal with words punctuated by smiles: "My dear, why do you not show hospitality to the fairy prince? He is a guest whom all the world would be glad to honour." But the bashful princess remained silent with downcast eyes. Then the friend said: "She is bashful. Accept a hospitable greeting from me." And she gave him a garland. Cloud-chariot, far gone in love, took the garland and put it around Sandal's neck. And the loving, sidelong glance which she gave him seemed like another garland of blue lotuses. So they pledged themselves without speaking a word. Then a serving-maid came and said to the princess: "Princess, your mother remembers you. Come at once." And she went slowly, after drawing from her lover's face a passionate glance, for which Love's arrow had wedged a path. And Cloud-chariot went to the hermitage, thinking of her; while she, sick with the separation from the lord of her life, saw her mother, then tottered to her bed and fell upon it. Her eyes were blinded as if by smoke from the fire of love within her, her limbs tossed in fever, she shed tears. And though her friends anointed her with sandal and fanned her with lotus-leaves, she found no rest on her bed or in the lap of a friend or on the ground. Then when the day fled away with the passionate red twilight, and the moon drew near to kiss the face of the laughing East, she despaired of life, and her modesty would not let her send a message in spite of all her love. But somehow she lived through the night. And Cloud-chariot too was in anguish at the separation. Even in his bed he was fallen into the hand of Love. Though his passion was so recent, he had already grown pale. Though shame kept him silent, his looks told of the pangs of love. And so he passed the night. In the morning he arose and went to the shrine of Gauri. And his friend, the hermit's son, followed him and tried to comfort him. At that moment the lovelorn Sandal came out of her house alone, for she could not endure the separation, and crept to that lonely spot to end her life there. She did not see her lover behind a tree, and with eyes brimming with tears she prayed to the goddess Gauri: "O goddess, since I could not in this life have Cloud-chariot as my husband, grant that in another life at last he may be my husband." Then she tied her garment to the limb of an ashoka tree before the goddess and cried: "Alas, my lord! Alas, Cloud-chariot! They say your benevolence is universal. Why did you not save me?" But as she fastened the garment about her neck, a voice from the sky was heard in the air: "My daughter, do nothing rash. Cloud-chariot, the future king of the fairies, shall be your husband." And Cloud-chariot heard the heavenly voice, and with his friend approached his rejoicing sweetheart. The friend said to the girl: "Here is the gift which the goddess grants you." And Cloud-chariot spoke more than one tender word and loosed the garment from her neck with his own hand. Then a girl friend who had been gathering flowers there and had seen what was happening, came up joyfully and said, while Sandal's modest eyes seemed to be tracing a figure on the ground: "My dear, I congratulate you. Your wish is granted. This very day Prince Friend-wealth said in my presence to King All-wealth, your father: Father, the fairy prince, who deserves honour from all the world, who gave away the wishing-tree, is here, and we should treat him as an honoured guest. We could not find another bridegroom like him. So let us welcome him with the gift of Sandal who is a pearl of a girl.' And the king agreed, and your brother Friend-wealth has this moment gone to the hermitage of the noble prince. I think your marriage will soon take place. So go to your chamber, and let the noble prince go to his hermitage." So she went slowly and happily and lovingly. And Cloud-chariot hastened to the hermitage. There he greeted Friend-wealth and heard his message, and told him about his own birth and former life. Then Friend-wealth was delighted and told Cloud-chariot's parents who were also delighted. Then he went home and made his own parents happy with the news. That very day he invited Cloud-chariot to his home. And they made a great feast as was proper, and married the fairy prince and Sandal on the spot. Then Cloud-chariot was completely happy and spent some time there with his bride Sandal. One day he took a walk for pleasure about the hills with Friend-wealth, and came to the seashore. There he saw great heaps of bones, and he asked Friend-wealth: "What creatures did these heaps of bones belong to?" His brother-in-law Friend-wealth said to the merciful prince: "Listen, my friend. I will tell you the story briefly." Long ago Kadru, the mother of the serpents, made a wager with her rival Vinata, the mother of the great bird Garuda. She won the wager and enslaved her rival. Now Garuda's anger continued even after he had freed his mother from slavery. He kept going into the underworld where Kadru's offspring, the serpents, live, to eat them. Some he killed, others he crushed. Then Vasuki, king of the serpents, feared that in time all would be lost if the serpents were all to be slain thus. So he made an agreement with Garuda. He said: "O king of birds, I will send one serpent every day to the shore of the southern sea for you to eat. But you are never to enter the underworld again. What advantage would it be to you if all the serpents were slain at once?" And Garuda agreed, with an eye to his own advantage. Since that time Garuda every day eats the snake sent by Vasuki here on the seashore. And these heaps of bones from the serpents that have been eaten, have in time formed a regular mountain. When Cloud-chariot heard this story from the lips of Friend-wealth, he was deeply grieved and said: "My friend, wretched indeed is that king Vasuki who deliberately sacrifices his own subjects to their enemy. He is a coward. He has a thousand heads, yet could not find a single mouth to say: O Garuda, eat me first.' How could he be so mean as to beg Garuda to destroy his own race? Or how can Garuda, the heavenly bird, do such a crime? Oh, insolent madness!" So the noble Cloud-chariot made up his mind that he would use his poor body that day to save the life of one serpent at least. At that moment a door-keeper, sent by Friend-wealth's father, came to summon them home. And Cloud-Chariot said: "Do you go first. I will follow." So he dismissed Friend-wealth, and remained there himself. As he walked about waiting for the thing he hoped for, he heard a pitiful sound of weeping at a distance. He went a little way and saw near a lofty rock a sorrowful, handsome youth. He was at that moment abandoned by a creature that seemed to be a policeman, and was gently persuading his old, weeping mother to return. And Cloud-chariot wished to know who it might be. So he hid himself and listened, his heart melting with pity. The old mother was bowed down by anguish, and started to lament over the youth. "Oh, Shell-crest! Oh, my virtuous son, whom I fondled, not counting the labour and the pain! Oh, my son, my only son! Where shall I see you again? Oh, my darling! When your bright face is gone, your old father will fall into black despair. How can he live then? Your tender form is hurt by the rays of the sun. How can it bear the pangs of being eaten by Garuda? Oh, my unhappy fate! Why did the Creator and the serpent-king choose my only son from the broad serpent-world, and seize upon him?" And as she lamented, the youth, her son, said: "Mother, I am unhappy enough. Why torture me yet more? Return home. For the last time I bow before you. It is time for Garuda to come." And the mother cried: "Alas, alas for me! Who will save my son?" And she gazed about wildly and wept aloud. All this Cloud-chariot, the future Buddha, saw and heard. And with deep pity he thought: "Alas! This is a serpent named Shell-crest, sent here by Vasuki for Garuda to eat. And this is his mother, following him out of her great love. He is her only son, and she is mourning in pain and bitter anguish. I should forever curse my useless life if I did not save one in such agony at the cost of a body which must perish anyway some day." So Cloud-chariot joyfully approached and said to the old mother: "Serpent-mother, I will save your son. Do not weep." But the old mother thought that this was Garuda, and she screamed: "O Garuda, eat me! Eat me!" Then Shell-crest said: "Mother, this is not Garuda. Do not be alarmed. What a difference between one who soothes our feelings like the moon, and the fearful Garuda." And Cloud-chariot said: "Mother, I am a fairy, come to save your son. I will put on his garment and offer my own body to the hungry bird. Do you take your son and go home." But the old mother said: "No, no. You are more than a son to me. To think that such as you should feel pity for such as we!" And Cloud-chariot answered: "Mother, I beg you not to disappoint me." But when he insisted, Shell-crest said: "Noble being, you have certainly shown compassion, but I do not wish to save my body at the expense of yours. Who would save a common stone at the cost of a pearl? The world is full of creatures like me, who are merciful only to themselves. But creatures like you, who are merciful to all the world, are very rare. Oh, pious being, I could not stain the pure family of Shell-guard, as the dark spot stains the disk on the moon." Then Shell-crest said to his mother: "Mother, return from this desolate place. Do you not see the rock of sacrifice wet with the blood of serpents, the terrible plaything of Death? I will go for a moment to the shore and worship the god Shiva there. And I will return quickly before Garuda comes." So Shell-crest took leave of his mother and went to worship Shiva. And Cloud-chariot thought: "If Garuda should come in this interval, I should be happy." Then he saw the trees stiffening themselves against the wind made by the sweeping wings of the king of birds. "Garuda is coming," he thought, and climbed the rock of sacrifice, eager to give his life for another. And Garuda straightway pounced upon the noble creature and lifted him from the rock in his beak. While Cloud-chariot's blood flowed in streams and the gem fell from his forehead, Garuda carried him off and began to eat him on the summit of the Malabar hills. And while he was being eaten, Cloud-chariot thought: "In every future life of mine may my body do some good to somebody. I would not attain heaven and salvation without doing some good first." Then a shower of flowers fell from heaven on the fairy prince. At that moment the blood-stained gem from his forehead fell in front of his wife Sandal. She was in anguish at the sight, and as her parents-in-law were near, she tearfully showed it to them. And they were alarmed at the sight of their son's gem and wondered what it meant. Then King Cloud-banner discovered the truth by his magic arts, and he and his queen started to run with Cloud-chariot's wife Sandal. At that moment Shell-crest returned from his worship of Shiva. He saw the rock stained with blood, and cried: "Alas for me, poor sinner! Surely that noble, merciful creature has given his body to Garuda in place of mine. I must find him. Where has the great being been carried by my enemy? If I find him alive, then I shall not sink into the slough of infamy." So he followed weeping the broad trail of blood. Now Garuda noticed that Cloud-chariot was happy while being eaten, and he thought: "This must be some strange, great being, for he is happy while I am eating him. He does not die, and what remains of him is thrilled with delight. And he turns a gracious, benevolent look upon me. Surely, he is no serpent, but some great spirit. I will stop eating him and ask him." But while he reflected, Cloud-chariot said: "O king of birds, why do you stop? There is still some flesh and blood on me, and I see that you are not satisfied. Pray continue to eat." When the king of birds heard these remarkable words, he said: "You are no serpent. Tell me who you are." But Cloud-chariot continued to urge him: "Certainly I am a serpent. What does the question mean? Continue your meal. What fool would begin a thing and then stop?" At that moment Shell-crest shouted from afar: "O Garuda, do not commit a great and reckless crime. What madness is this? He is not a serpent. I am the serpent." And he ran between them and spoke again to the agitated bird: "O Garuda, what madness is this? Do you not see that I have the hood and the forked tongue? Do you not see how gentle his appearance is?" While he was speaking, Cloud-chariot's wife Sandal and his parents hurried up. And when his parents saw how he was lacerated, they wept aloud and lamented: "Alas, my son! Alas, Cloud-chariot! Alas for my merciful darling, who gave his life for others!" But when they cried: "Alas, Garuda! How could you do this thoughtless thing?" then Garuda was filled with remorse and thought: "Alas! How could I be mad enough to eat a future Buddha? This must be Cloud-chariot, who gives his life for others, whose fame is trumpeted abroad through all the world. If he is dead, I am a sinner, and ought to burn myself alive. Why does the fruit of the poison-tree of sin taste sweet?" While Garuda was thus deep in anxious thought, Cloud-chariot saw his relatives gathered, fell down, and died from the pain of his wounds. Then, while his grief-stricken parents were loudly lamenting, while Shell-crest was accusing himself, Sandal looked up to heaven and, in a voice stammering with tears, reproached the goddess Gauri who had graciously given her this husband: "Oh, Mother! You told me that the fairy prince should be my husband, but it is my fate that you spoke falsely." Then Gauri appeared in a visible form, and said: "Daughter, my words are not false." And she sprinkled Cloud-chariot with nectar from a jar. And straightway he stood up alive, unhurt and more beautiful than before. As they all bent low in worship, and Cloud-chariot rose only to bend again, the goddess said: "My son, I am pleased with your gift of your own body. With my own hand I anoint you king of the fairies." And she anointed Cloud-chariot with liquor from the jar, and then disappeared, followed by the worship of the company. And showers of heavenly blossoms fell from the sky, and the drums of the gods were joyfully beaten in heaven. Then Garuda reverently said to Cloud-chariot: "O King, I am pleased with your more than human character. For you have done a strange thing of unparalleled nobility, to be marvelled at throughout the universe, to be written upon the walls of heaven. Therefore I am at your service. Choose from me what boon you will." The noble creature said to Garuda: "O Garuda, you must repent and eat no more serpents. And you must restore to life those that you ate before, who now are nothing but bones." And Garuda said: "So be it. I will eat no serpents hereafter. And those that I have eaten shall come to life." Then all the serpents who had been eaten down to the bones, suddenly stood up. And through the grace of Gauri all the leading fairies learned immediately the wonderful deed of Cloud-chariot. So they all came and bowed at his feet and took him, freshly anointed by the very hand of Gauri, with his rejoicing relatives and friends to the Himalaya mountain. There Cloud-chariot lived happily with his father and his mother and his wife Sandal and Friend-wealth and the generous Shell-crest. And he ruled the fairy world radiant with gems. When the goblin had told this long, strange story, he said to the king: "O King, tell me. Which was the more self-sacrificing, Cloud-chariot or Shell-crest? If you know and do not tell, then the curse I mentioned before will be fulfilled." And the king said: "There was nothing remarkable in what Cloud-chariot did. He was prepared for it by the experiences of many past lives. But Shell-crest deserves praise. He was saved from death. His enemy had another victim, and was far away. Yet he ran after and offered his body to Garuda." When the goblin heard this, he went back to the sissoo tree. And the king returned to catch him again. SIXTEENTH GOBLIN _The King who died for Love of his General's Wife; the General follows him in Death. Which is the more worthy?_ Then the king went back under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started. And the goblin said to him: "O King, I will tell you another little story to relieve your weariness. Listen." Long ago there was a city named Golden City on the bank of the Ganges, where a quarter of the old perfect virtue still lingers in these evil days. There was a king named Glorious, and he deserved the name. His bravery kept the world from being overflowed, like the shore of the sea. In this king's city lived a great merchant, who had a daughter named Passion. Everyone who saw her fell in love and went mad with passion. When she grew to be a young woman, the virtuous merchant went to King Glorious and said: "Your Majesty, I have a daughter, the gem of the three worlds, and she is old enough to marry. I could not give her to anyone without consulting your Majesty. For you are the master of all gems in the world. Pray marry her and thus lay me under obligations." So the king sent his own Brahmans to examine her qualities. But when the Brahmans saw her supreme loveliness, they were troubled and thought: "If the king should marry her, his kingdom would be ruined. He would think only of her, and would doubtless neglect his kingdom. Therefore we must not report her good qualities to the king." So they returned to the king and said: "Your Majesty, she has bad qualities." So the king did not marry the merchant's daughter. But he bade the merchant give his daughter to a general named Force. And she lived happily with her husband in his house. After a time the lion of spring came dancing through the forest and slew the elephant of winter. And King Glorious went forth on the back of an elephant to see the spring festival. And the drum was beaten to warn virtuous women to stay within doors. Otherwise they would have fallen in love with his beauty, and love-sickness might be expected. But when Passion heard the drum, she did not like to be left alone. She went out on the balcony, that the king might see her. She seemed like the flame of love which the spring-time was fanning with southern breezes. And the king saw her, and his whole being was shaken. He felt her beauty sinking deep in his heart like a victorious arrow of Love, and he fainted. His servants brought him back to consciousness, and he returned to the city. There he made inquiries and learned that this was Passion whom he had rejected before. So he banished from the country the Brahmans who had said that she had bad qualities, and he thought longingly of her every day. And as he thought of her, he burned over the flame of love, and wasted away day and night. And though from shame he tried to conceal it, he finally told the reason of his anguish to responsible people who asked him. They said: "Do not suffer. Why do you not seize her?" But the virtuous king would not do it. Then General Force heard the story. He came and bowed at the feet of the king and said: "Your Majesty, she is the wife of your slave, therefore she is your slave. I give her to you of my own accord. Pray take my wife. Or better yet, I will leave her here in the palace. Then you cannot be blamed if you marry her." And the general begged and insisted. But the king became angry and said: "I am a king. How can I do such a wicked thing? If I should transgress, who would be virtuous? You are devoted to me. Why do you urge me to a sin which is pleasant for the moment, but causes great sorrow in the next world? If you abandon your wedded wife, I shall not pardon you. How could a man in my position overlook such a transgression? It is better to die." Thus the king argued against it. For the truly great throw away life rather than virtue. And when all the citizens came together and urged him, he was steadfast and refused. So he slowly shrivelled away over the fever-flame of love and died. There was nothing left of King Glorious except his glory. And the general could not endure the death of his king. He burned himself alive. The actions of devoted men are blameless. When the goblin on the king's shoulder had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, which of these two, the king and the general, was the more deserving? Remember the curse before you answer." The king said: "I think the king was the more deserving." And the goblin said reproachfully: "O King, why was not the general better? He offered the king a wife like that, whose charms he knew from a long married life. And when his king died, he burned himself like a faithful man. But the king gave her up without really knowing her attractions." Then the king laughed and said: "True enough, but not surprising. The general was a gentleman born, and acted as he did from devotion to his superior. For servants must protect their masters even at the cost of their own lives. But kings are like mad elephants who cannot be goaded into obedience, who break the binding-chain of virtue. They are insolent, and their judgment trickles from them with the holy water of consecration. Their eyes are blinded by the hurricane of power, and they do not see the road. From the most ancient times, even the kings who conquered the world have been maddened by love and have fallen into misfortune. But this king, though he ruled the whole world, though he was maddened by the girl Passion, preferred to die rather than set his foot on the path of iniquity. He was a hero. He was the better of the two." Then the goblin escaped by magic from the king's shoulder and went back. And the king pursued him, undiscouraged. No great man stops in the middle of the hardest undertaking. SEVENTEENTH GOBLIN _The Youth who went through the Proper Ceremonies. Why did he fail to win the magic spell?_ Then the king went back through the night to the cemetery filled with ghouls, terrible with funeral piles that seemed like ghosts with wagging tongues of flame. But when he came to the sissoo tree, he was surprised to see a great many bodies hanging on the tree. They were all alike, and in each was a goblin twitching its limbs. And the king thought: "Ah, what does this mean? Why does that magic goblin keep wasting my time? For I do not know which of all these I ought to take. If I should not succeed in this night's endeavour, then I would burn myself alive rather than become a laughing-stock." But the goblin understood the king's purpose, and was pleased with his character. So he gave up his magic arts. Then the king saw only one goblin in one body. He took him down as before, put him on his shoulder, and started once more. And as he walked along, the goblin said: "O King, if you have no objections, I will tell you a story. Listen." There is a city called Ujjain, whose people delight in noble happiness, and feel no longing for heaven. In that city there is real darkness at night, real intelligence in poetry, real madness in elephants, real coolness in pearls, sandal, and moonlight. There lived a king named Moonshine. He had as counsellor a famous Brahman named Heaven-lord, rich in money, rich in piety, rich in learning. And the counsellor had a son named Moon-lord. This son went one day to a great resort of gamblers to play. There the dice, beautiful as the eyes of gazelles, were being thrown constantly. And Calamity seemed to be looking on, thinking: "Whom shall I embrace?" And the loud shouts of angry gamblers seemed to suggest the question: "Who is there that would not be fleeced here, were he the god of wealth himself?" This hall the youth entered, and played with dice. He staked his clothes and everything else, and the gamblers won it all. Then he wagered money he did not have, and lost that. And when they asked him to pay, he could not. So the gambling-master caught him and beat him with clubs. When he was bruised all over by the clubs, the Brahman youth became motionless like a stone, and pretended to be dead, and waited. After he had lain thus for two or three days, the heartless gambling-master said to the gamblers: "He lies like a stone. Take him somewhere and throw him into a blind well. I will pay you the money he owes." So the gamblers picked Moon-lord up and went far into the forest, looking for a well. Then one old gambler said to the others: "He is as good as dead. What is the use of throwing him into a well now? We will leave him here and go back and say we have left him in a well." And all the rest agreed, and left him there, and went back. When they were gone, Moon-lord rose and entered a deserted temple to Shiva. When he had rested a little there, he thought in great anguish: "Ah, I trusted the rascally gamblers, and they cheated me. Where shall I go now, naked and dusty as I am? What would my father say if he saw me now, or any relative, or any friend? I will stay here for the present, and at night I will go out and try to find food somehow to appease my hunger." While he reflected in weariness and nakedness, the sun grew less hot and disappeared. Then a terrible hermit named Stake came there, and he had smeared his body with ashes. When he had seen Moon-lord and asked who he was and heard his story, he said, as the youth bent low before him: "Sir, you have come to my hermitage, a guest fainting with hunger. Rise, bathe, and partake of the meal I have gained by begging." Then Moon-lord said to him: "Holy sir, I am a Brahman. How can I partake of such a meal?" Then the hermit-magician went into his hut and out of tenderness to his guest he thought of a magic spell which grants all desires. And the spell appeared in bodily form, and said: "What shall I do?" And the hermit said: "Treat that man as an honoured guest." Then Moon-lord was astonished to see a golden palace rise before him and a grove with women in it. They came to him from the palace and said: "Sir, rise, come, bathe, eat, and meet our mistress." So they led him in and gave him a chance to bathe and anoint himself and dress. Then they led him to another room. There the youth saw a woman of wonderful beauty, whom the Creator must have made to see what he could do. She rose and offered him half of her seat. And he ate heavenly food and various fruits and chewed betel leaves and sat happily with her on the couch. In the morning he awoke and saw the temple to Shiva, but the heavenly creature was gone, and the palace, and the women in it. So he went out in distress, and the hermit in his hut smiled and asked him how he had spent the night. And he said: "Holy sir, through your kindness I spent a happy night, but I shall die without that heavenly creature." Then the hermit laughed and said: "Stay here. You shall have the same happiness again to-night." So Moon-lord enjoyed those delights every night through the favour of the hermit. Finally Moon-lord came to see what a mighty spell that was. So, driven on by his fate, he respectfully begged the hermit: "Holy sir, if you really feel pity for a poor suppliant like me, teach me that spell which has such power." And when he insisted, the hermit said: "You could never win the spell. One has to stand in the water to win it. And it weaves a net of magic to bewilder the man who is repeating the words, so that he cannot win it. For as he mumbles it, he seems to lead another life, first a baby, then a boy, then a youth, then a husband, then a father. And he falsely imagines that such and such people are his friends, such and such his enemies. He forgets his real life and his desire to win the spell. But if a man mumbles it constantly for twenty-four years, and remembers his own life, and is not deceived by the network of magic, and then at the end burns himself alive, he comes out of the water, and has real magic power. It comes only to a good pupil, and if a teacher tries to teach it to a bad pupil, the teacher loses it too. Now you have the real benefit through my magic power. Why insist on more? If I lost my powers, then your happiness would go too." But Moon-lord said: "I can do anything. Do not fear, holy sir." And the hermit promised to teach him the spell. What will holy men not do out of regard to those who seek aid? So the hermit went to the river bank, and said: "My son, mumble the words of the spell. And while you are leading an imaginary life, you will at last be awakened by my magic. Then plunge into the magic fire which you will see. I will stand here on the bank while you mumble it." So he purified himself and purified Moon-lord and made him sip water, and then he taught him the magic spell. And Moon-lord bowed to his teacher on the bank, and plunged into the river. And as he mumbled the words of the spell in the water, he was bewildered by its magic. He forgot all about his past life, and went through another life. He was born in another city as the son of a Brahman. Then he grew up, was consecrated, and went to school. Then he took a wife, and after many experiences half pleasant, half painful, he found himself the father of a family. Then he lived for some years with his parents and his relatives, devoted to wife and children, and interested in many things. While he was experiencing all these labours of another life, the hermit took pity on him and repeated magic words to enlighten him. And Moon-lord was enlightened in the midst of his new life. He remembered himself and his teacher, and saw that the other life was a network of magic. So he prepared to enter the fire in order to win magic power. But older people and reliable people and his parents and his relatives tried to prevent him. In spite of them he hankered after heavenly pleasures, and went to the bank of a river where a funeral pile had been made ready. And his relatives went with him. But when he got there he saw that his old parents and his wife and his little children were weeping. And he was perplexed, and thought: "Alas! If I enter the fire, all these my own people will die. And I do not know whether my teacher's promise will come true or not. Shall I go into the fire, or go home? No, no. How could a teacher with such powers promise falsely? Indeed, I must enter the fire." And he did. And he was astonished the feel the fire as cool as snow, and lost his fear of it. Then he came out of the water of the river, and found himself on the bank. He saw his teacher standing there, and fell at his feet, and told him the whole story, ending with the blazing funeral pile. Then his teacher said: "My son, I think you must have made some mistake. Otherwise, why did the fire seem cool to you? That never happens in the winning of this magic spell." And Moon-lord said: "Holy sir, I do not remember making any mistake." Then his teacher was eager to know about it, so he tried to remember the spell himself. But it would not come to him or to his pupil. So they went away sad, having lost their magic. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, explain the matter to me. Why did they lose their magic, when everything had been done according to precept?" Then the king said: "O magic creature, I see that you are only trying to waste my time. Still, I will tell you. Magic powers do not come to a man because he does things that are hard, but because he does things with a pure heart. The Brahman youth was defective at that point. He hesitated even when his mind was enlightened. Therefore he failed to win the magic. And the teacher lost his magic because he taught it to an unworthy pupil." Then the goblin went back to his home. And the king ran to find him, never hesitating. EIGHTEENTH GOBLIN _The Boy whom his Parents, the King, and the Giant conspired to Kill. Why did he laugh at the moment of death?_ Then the king went to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started in silence. And the goblin on his shoulder saw that he was silent and said: "O King, why are you so obstinate? Go home. Spend the night in rest. You ought not to take me to that rascally monk. But if you insist, then I will tell you another story. Listen." There is a city called Brilliant-peak. There lived a glorious king named Moon, who delighted the eyes of his subjects. Wise men said that he was brave, generous, and the very home of beauty. But in spite of all his wealth, he was very sad at heart. For he found no wife worthy of him. One day this king went with soldiers on horseback into a great wood, to hunt there and forget his sorrow. There he split open many boars with his arrows as the sun splits the black darkness, and made fierce lions into cushions for his arrows, and slew mountainous monsters with his terrible darts. As he hunted, he spurred his horse and beat him terribly. And the horse was so hurt by the spur and the whip that he could not tell rough from smooth. He dashed off quicker than the wind, and in a moment carried the king into another forest a hundred miles away. There the king lost his way, and as he wandered about wearily, he saw a great lake. He stopped there, unsaddled his horse, let him bathe and drink, and found him some grass in the shade of the trees. Then he bathed and drank himself, and when he had rested, he looked all about him. And he saw a hermit's daughter of marvellous beauty under an ashoka tree with another girl. She had no ornaments but flowers. She was charming even in a dress of bark. She was particularly attractive because of her thick masses of hair arranged in a girlish way. And the king fell in love with her and thought: "Who is she? Is she a goddess come to bathe in these waters? Or Gauri, separated from her husband Shiva, leading a hard life to win him again? Or the lovely moon, taking a human form, and trying to be attractive in the daytime? I will go to her and find out." So he drew near to her. And when she saw him coming, she was astonished at his beauty and dropped her hands, which had been weaving a garland of flowers. And she thought: "Who can he be in this forest? Some fairy perhaps. Blessed are my eyes this day." So she rose, modestly looking another way, and started to go away, though her limbs failed her. Then the king approached and said: "Beautiful maiden, I have come a long distance, and you never saw me before. I ask only to look at you, and you should welcome me. Is this hermit manners, to run away?" Then her clever friend made the king sit down and treated him as an honoured guest. And the king respectfully asked her: "My good girl, what happy family does your friend adorn? What are the syllables of her name, which must be a delight to the ear? Or why at her age does she torture a body as delicate as a flower with a hermit's life in a lonely wood?" And the friend answered: "Your Majesty, she is the daughter of the hermit Kanva and the heavenly nymph Menaka. She grew up here in the hermitage, and her name is Lotus-bloom. With her father's permission she came here to the lake to bathe. And her father's hermitage is not far from here." Then the king was delighted. He mounted his horse and rode to the hermitage of holy Kanva, to ask for the girl. And he entered the hermitage in modest garb, leaving his horse outside. Then he was surrounded by hermits with hoary crowns and bark garments like the trees, and saw the sage Kanva radiant and cool like the moon. And he drew near and fell at his feet. And the wise hermit greeted him and let him rest, then said: "My son Moon, I will tell you something to your advantage. Listen. I know what fear of death there is in mortal creatures. Why then do you uselessly kill the wild beasts? Warriors were made by the Creator to protect the timid. Therefore protect your subjects in righteousness, and root out evil. As Happiness flees before you, strive to overtake her with all your means, elephants and horses and things. Enjoy your kingship. Be generous. Become glorious. Abandon this vice of hunting, this sport of Death. For slayer and slain are equally deceived. Why spend your time in such an evil pursuit?" The sensible king was pleased and said: "Holy sir, I am instructed. And great is my gratitude for this instruction. From now on I hunt no more. Let the wild animals live without fear." Then the hermit said: "I am pleased with your protection of the animals. Choose any boon you will." Then the quick-witted king said: "Holy sir, if you are kindly disposed, give me your daughter Lotus-bloom." So the hermit gave him his daughter, the child of the nymph, who then came up after her bath. So they were married, and the king wore cheerful garments, and Lotus-bloom was adorned by the hermits' wives. And the weeping hermits accompanied them in procession to the edge of the hermitage. Then the king took his wife Lotus-bloom, mounted his horse, and started for his city. At last the sun, seeing the king tired with his long journeying, sank wearily behind the western mountain. And fawn-eyed night appeared, clad in the garment of darkness, like a woman going to meet her lover. And the king saw an ashvattha tree on the shore of a pond in a spot covered with grass and twigs, and he decided to spend the night there. So he dismounted, fed and watered his horse, brought water from the pond, and rested with his beloved. And they passed the night there. In the morning he arose, performed his devotions, and prepared to set out with his wife to rejoin his soldiers. Then, like a cloud black as soot with tawny lightning-hair, there appeared a great giant. He wore a chaplet of human entrails, a cord of human hair, he was chewing the head of a man, and drinking blood from a skull. The giant laughed aloud, spit fire in his wrath, and showed his dreadful fangs. And he scolded the king and said: "Scoundrel! I am a giant named Flame-face. This tree is my home; even the gods do not dare to trespass here. But you and your wife have trespassed and enjoyed yourselves. Now swallow your own impudence, you rascal! You are lovesick, so I will split open your heart and eat it, and I will drink your blood." The king was frightened when he saw that the giant was invincible, and his wife was trembling, so he said respectfully: "I trespassed ignorantly. Forgive me. I am your guest, seeking protection in your hermitage. And I will give you a human sacrifice, so that you will be satisfied. Be merciful then and forget your anger." Then the giant forgot his anger, and thought: "Very well. Why not?" And he said: "O King, I want a noble, intelligent Brahman boy seven years old, who shall give himself up of his own accord for your sake. And when he is killed, his mother must hold his hands tightly to the ground, and his father must hold his feet, and you must cut off his head with your own sword. If you do this within seven days, then I will forgive the insult you have offered me. If not, I will kill you and all your people." And the king was so frightened that he consented. Then the giant disappeared. Then King Moon mounted his horse with his wife Lotus-bloom and rode away sad at heart, seeking for his soldiers. And he thought: "Alas! I was bewildered by hunting and by love, and I find myself ruined. Where can I find such a sacrifice for the giant? Well, I will go to my own city now, and see what happens." So he continued his search, and found his soldiers and his city Brilliant-peak. There his subjects were delighted because he had found a wife worthy of him, and they made a great feast. But it was a day of despondency and dreadful agony for the king. On the next day he told his counsellors the whole story. And one counsellor named Wise said: "Your Majesty, do not despair. I will find a victim for the sacrifice. The world is a strange place." Thus the counsellor comforted the king, and made a statue of a boy out of gold. And he sent the statue about the land, with constant beating of drums and this proclamation: "We want a noble Brahman boy seven years old who will offer himself as a sacrifice to a giant with the permission of his parents. And when he is killed, his mother must hold his hands, and his father must hold his feet. And as a reward, the king will give his parents a hundred villages and this statue of gold and gems." Now there was a Brahman boy on a farm, who was only seven years old, but wonderfully brave. He was of great beauty, and even in childhood he was always thinking about others. He said to the heralds: "Gentlemen, I will give you my body. Wait a moment. I will hurry back after telling my parents." So they told the boy to go. And he went into the house, bowed before his parents, and said: "Mother! Father! I am going to give this wretched body of mine in order to win lasting happiness. Pray permit me. And I will take the king's gift, this statue of myself made of gold and gems, and give it to you together with the hundred villages. Thus I will pay my debt to you, and do some real good. And you will never be poor again, and will have plenty more sons." But his parents immediately said: "Son, what are you saying? Have you the rheumatism? Or are you possessed by a devil? If not, why do you talk nonsense? Who would sacrifice his child for money? And what child would give his body?" But the boy said: "I am not mad. Listen. My words are full of sense. The body is the seat of unnameable impurities, it is loathsome and full of pain. It perishes in no long time at best. If some good can be done with the worthless thing, that is a great advantage in this weary life, so wise men say. And what good is there except helping others? If anyone can serve his parents so easily, then how lightly should the body be esteemed!" Thus the boy, with his bold words and his firm purpose, persuaded his grieving parents. And he went and got from the king's men the golden statue and the hundred villages, and gave them to his parents. So the boy with his parents followed the king's men to the city Brilliant-peak. And the king looked upon the brave boy as a magic jewel for his own preservation, and rejoiced greatly. He adorned the boy with garlands and perfumes, put him on an elephant, and took him with his parents to the home of the giant. There the priest traced a magic circle beside the tree, and reverently lit the holy fire. Then the horrible giant Flame-face appeared, mumbling words of his own. He staggered, for he was drunk with blood, and snorted and yawned. His eyes flashed fire and his shadow made the whole world dark. And the king said respectfully: "Great being, here is the human sacrifice you asked for, and this is the seventh day since I promised it. Be merciful. Accept this sacrifice." And the giant licked his chops, and looked the boy over, who was to be the sacrifice. Then the noble boy thought: "I have done some good with this body of mine. May I never rest in heaven or in eternal salvation, but may I have many lives in which to do some good with my body." And the air was filled with the chariots of gods who rained down flowers. Then the boy was laid before the giant. His mother held his hands, and his father held his feet. When the king drew his sword and was ready to strike, the boy laughed so heartily that all of them, even the giant, forgot what they were doing, looked at the boy's face, and bowed low before him. When the goblin had told this strange story, he asked the king: "O King, why did the boy laugh at the moment of death? I have a great curiosity about this point. If you know and will not tell, then your head will fly into a hundred pieces." And the king said: "Listen. I will tell you why the boy laughed. When danger comes to any weak creature, he cries for life to his mother and father. If they are not there, he begs protection from the king, whom heaven made his protector. Failing the king, he cries to a god. Some one of these should be his protector. But in the case of this boy everything was contrary. His parents held his hands and feet because they wanted money. And the king was ready to kill him with his own hand, to save his own life. And the giant, who is a kind of a god, had come there especially to eat him. So the boy thought: They are ridiculously fooled about their bodies, which are fragile, worthless, the seat of pain and suffering. The bodies of the greatest gods perish. And such creatures as these imagine that their bodies will endure!' So when he saw their strange madness, and felt that his own wishes were fulfilled, the Brahman boy laughed in astonishment and delight." Then the goblin slipped from the king's shoulder and went back to his home. And the king followed with determination. The heart of a good man is like the heart of the ocean. It cannot be shaken. NINETEENTH GOBLIN _The Man, his Wife, and her Lover, who all died for Love. Which was the most foolish?_ Then the king went back under the sissoo tree, took the goblin on his shoulder, and set out in haste. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder said: "O King, I will tell you a story about a great love. Listen." There is a city called Ujjain, which seems like a divine city made by the Creator for the pious who have fallen from heaven. In this city there was a famous king named Lotus-belly. He delighted the good, and defeated the king of the demons. While he was king, a merchant named Fortune, richer than the god of wealth, lived in the city. He had one daughter named Love-cluster, who seemed the model from whom the Creator had made the nymphs of heaven. This merchant gave his daughter to a merchant named Jewel-guard from Copper City. As he was a tender father and had no other children, the merchant stayed with his daughter Love-cluster and her husband. Now Love-cluster came to hate Jewel-guard as a sick man hates a pungent, biting medicine. But the beautiful woman was dearer than life to her husband, dear as long-fathered wealth to a miser. One day Jewel-guard started for Copper City to pay a loving visit to his parents. Then the hot summer came, and the roads were blocked for travellers by the sharp arrows of the sun. The winds blew soft with the fragrance of jasmine and trumpet-flower, like sighs from the mouths of mountains separated from the springtime. And wind-swept dust-clouds flew to the sky like messengers from the burning earth begging for clouds. And the feverish days moved slowly like wayfarers who cling to the shade of trees. And the nights clad in pale yellow moonlight became very feeble without the invigorating embrace of winter. At this time Love-cluster, anointed with cooling sandal, and clad in thin garments stood at her lattice-window. And she saw a handsome youth with a friend whom he trusted. He seemed the god of love born anew and seeking his bride. He was the son of the king's priest, and his name was Lotus-lake. And when Lotus-lake saw the lovely girl, he expanded with delight as lotuses in a lake expand at the sight of the moon. When the two young people saw each other, their hearts embraced each other at the bidding of Love, their teacher. So Lotus-lake was smitten with love, and was led home with difficulty by his friend. And Love-cluster was equally maddened by love. First she learned from her friend his name and home, then slowly withdrew to her room. There she thought of him and became feverish with love, simply tossing on her couch, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. After two or three days spent in this way, she felt bashful and fearful, pale and thin from the separation, and hopeless of union with her lover. So, as if drawn on by the moonbeam which shone through her window, she went out at night when her people were asleep, determined to die. And she came to a pool under a tree in her garden. There stood a family image of the goddess Gauri, set up by her father. She drew near to this image, bowed before the goddess, praised her, and said: "O Goddess, since I could not have Lotus-lake as my husband in this life, may he be my husband in some other life!" And she made a noose of her garment, and tied it to the ashoka tree before the goddess. At that moment her trusty friend awoke, and not finding her in the room, hunted about and came luckily into the garden. There she saw the girl fastening the noose about her neck, and she cried, "No, no!" And running up, she cut the noose. When Love-cluster saw that it was her own friend who had run up and taken the noose away, she fell to the ground in great agony. But her friend comforted her and asked the reason of her sorrow. Then she arose and said: "Jasmine, my friend, I cannot be united with him I love. I am dependent on my father and other people. Death is the happiest thing for me." And as she spoke, she was terribly scorched by the fiery darts of love, and determined to feel no more hope, and fainted. And her friend Jasmine lamented: "Alas! Love is a hard master. It has reduced her to this condition." But she gradually brought her back to life with cool water and fans and things. She made an easy bed of lotus-leaves. She put pearls cool as snow on her heart. Then Love-cluster came to herself and slowly said to her weeping friend: "My dear, the fire within me cannot be quenched by such things as pearls. If you want to save my life, be clever enough to bring my lover to me." And the loving Jasmine said: "My dear, the night is almost over. In the morning I will bring your lover here to meet you. Be brave and go now to your room." Love-cluster was contented. She took the pearls from her neck and gave them to her friend as a present. And she said: "Let us go now. Then in the morning you must keep your promise." So she went to her room. In the morning Jasmine crept out without being seen to hunt for the house of Lotus-lake. When she got there, she found Lotus-lake under a tree in the garden. He was lying on a couch of lotus-leaves moistened with sandal, and the friend who knew his secret was fanning him with plantain-leaf fans, for he was tortured by the flames of love. And Jasmine hid, to find out whether this was lovesickness for her friend or not. Then the friend said to Lotus-lake: "My friend, comfort your heart by glancing a moment at this charming garden. Do not be so troubled." But he said to his friend: "My heart has been stolen by Love-cluster. It is no longer in my body. How can I comfort it? Love has made an empty quiver of me. So invent some plan by which I may meet the thief of my heart." Then Jasmine came out joyfully and without fear and showed herself. And she said: "Sir, Love-cluster has sent me to you, and I am the bearer of a message to you. Is it good manners to enter the heart of an innocent girl by force, steal her thoughts, and run away? It is strange, but the sweet girl is ready to give her person and her life to you, her charmer. For day and night she heaves sighs hot as the smoke from the fire of love that burns in her heart. And teardrops carry her rouge away and fall, like bees longing for the honey of her lotus-face. So, if you wish it, I will tell you what is good for both of you." And Lotus-lake said: "My good girl, the words which tell me that my love is lonely and longing, frighten me and comfort me. You are our only refuge. Devise a plan." And Jasmine answered: "This very night I will bring Love-cluster secretly to the garden. You must be outside. Then I will cleverly let you in, and so you two will be united." Thus Jasmine delighted the Brahman's son, and went away successful to please Love-cluster with the news. Then the sun and the daylight fled away, pursuing the twilight. And the East adorned her face with the moon. And the white night-blooming lotuses laughed, their faces expanding at the thought of the glory that was coming to them. At that hour the lover Lotus-lake came secretly, adorned and filled with longing, to the garden-gate of his beloved. And Jasmine led Love-cluster secretly into the garden, for she had lived through the day somehow. Then Jasmine made her sit down under the mango trees, while she went and let Lotus-lake in. So he entered and looked upon Love-cluster as the traveller looks upon the shade of trees with thick foliage. And as he drew near, she saw him and ran to him, for love took away her modesty, and she fell on his neck. "Where would you go? I have caught you, thief of my heart!" she cried. Then excessive joy stopped her breathing and she died. She fell on the ground like a vine broken by the wind. Strange are the mysterious ways of Love. When Lotus-lake saw that terrible fall, he cried: "Oh, what does it mean?" And he fainted and fell down. Presently he came to himself, and took his darling on his lap. He embraced her and kissed her and wept terribly. He was so borne down by the terrible burden of grief that his own heart broke. And when they were both dead, the night seemed to die away in shame and fear. In the morning the relatives heard the story from the gardeners, and came there filled with timidity and wonder and grief and madness. They did not know what to do, but stood a long time with downcast eyes. Unfaithful women disgrace a family. Presently the husband Jewel-guard came back from his father's house in Copper City, filled with love for Love-cluster. When he came to his father-in-law's house and saw the business, he was blinded by tears and went thoughtfully into the garden. There he saw his wife dead in another man's arms, and his body was scorched by flames of grief, and he died immediately. Then the whole household shouted and screamed so that all the citizens heard the story and came there. The demi-gods themselves were filled with pity and prayed to the goddess Gauri whose image had been set up there before by Love-cluster's father: "Oh, Mother, the merchant who set up this statue was always devoted to you. Show mercy to him in his affliction." And the gracious goddess heard their prayer. She said: "All three shall live again, and shall forget their love." Then through her grace they all arose like people waking from sleep. They were alive, and their love was gone. While all the people there rejoiced at what had happened. Lotus-lake went home, bending his head in shame. And the merchant took his shamefaced daughter and her husband and went into the house and made a feast. When the goblin had told this story on the road in the night, he said: "O King, which was the most foolish among those who died for love? If you know and do not tell, you must remember the curse I spoke of before." Then the king answered: "O magic creature, Jewel-guard was the most foolish of them. When he saw that his wife had died for love of another man, he should have been angry. Instead, he was loving, and died of grief." Then the goblin slipped from the king's shoulder and quickly set out for his home. And the king ran after him again, eager as before. TWENTIETH GOBLIN _The Four Brothers who brought a Dead Lion to Life. Which is to blame when he kills them all?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, took the goblin, put him on his shoulder, and started for the place he wished to reach. And as he walked along the road, the goblin began to talk again: "Bravo, King! You are a remarkable character. So I will tell you another story, and a strange one. Listen." There is a city called Flower-city. There lived a king named Earth-boar. In his kingdom was a farm where a Brahman lived whose name was Vishnuswami. His wife was named Swaha. And four sons were born to them. After a time the father died, and the relatives took all the money. So the four brothers consulted together: "There is nothing for us to do here. Suppose we go somewhere." And after a long journey they came to the house of their maternal grandfather in a village called Sacrifice. The grandfather was dead, but their uncles sheltered them, and they continued their studies. But they did not amount to much, so in time their uncles became scornful in such matters as food and clothing. And they were troubled. Then the eldest took the others aside and said: "Brothers, no man can do anything anywhere on earth. Now I was wandering about discouraged, and I came to a wood. There I saw to-day a dead man whose limbs lay relaxed on the ground. And I wished for the same fate, and I thought: He is happy. He is free from the burden of woe.' So I made up my mind to die, and hanged myself with a rope from a tree. I lost consciousness, but before the breath of life was gone, the cord was cut and I fell to the ground. And when I came to myself, I saw a compassionate man who had happened by at that moment, and he was fanning me with his garment. And he said to me: My friend, you are an educated man. Tell me why you are so despondent. The righteous man finds happiness, the unrighteous man finds unhappiness because of his unrighteousness, and for no other reason. If you made up your mind to this because of unhappiness, practice righteousness instead. Why seek the pains of hell by suicide?' Thus the man comforted me and went away. And I gave up the idea of suicide and came here. You see I could not even die when fate was unwilling. Now I shall burn my body at some holy place, that I may not again feel the woes of poverty." Then the younger brothers said to him: "Sir, why is an intelligent man sad for lack of money? Do you not know that money is uncertain as an autumn cloud? No matter how carefully won and guarded, three things are fickle and bring sorrow at the last: evil friendships, a flirt, and money. The resolute and sensible man should by all means acquire that virtue which brings him Happiness a captive in bonds." So the eldest brother straightway plucked up heart, and said: "What virtue is it which we should acquire?" Then they all reflected, and took counsel together: "We will wander over the earth, and each of us will learn some one science." So they appointed a place for meeting, and the four brothers started in four different directions. After a time they all gathered at the meeting-place, and asked one another what they had learned. The first said: "I have learned a science by which I can take the skeleton of any animal whatever and put the proper kind of flesh on it." The second said: "I have learned a science by which I can put on the flesh-covered skeleton the proper hair and skin." The third said: "My science is this. When the skin and the flesh and the hair are there, I can put in the eyes and the other organs of sense." The fourth said: "When the organs are there, I can give the creature the breath of life." So all four went into the forest to find a skeleton and test their various sciences. As fate would have it, they found the skeleton of a lion there. And they took that, not knowing the difference. The first fitted out the skeleton with appropriate flesh. The second added the skin and hair. The third provided all the organs. The fourth gave life to the thing, and it was a lion. The lion arose with terrible massive mane, dreadful teeth in his mouth, and curving claws in his paws. He arose and killed his four creators, then ran into the forest. Thus the Brahman youths all perished because they did wrong to make a lion. Who could expect a good result from creating a bad-tempered creature? Thus, if fate opposed, even a virtue that has been painfully acquired does not profit, but rather injures. But the tree of manhood, with the water of intelligence poured into its watering-trench of conduct about the vigorous root of fate, generally bears good fruit. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king who was walking through the night: "O King, remember the curse I mentioned, and tell me which of them was most to blame for creating the lion?" And the king reflected in silence: "He wants to escape again. Very well. I will catch him again." So he said: "The one who gave life to the lion, is the sinner. The others did not know what kind of an animal it was, and just showed their skill in creating flesh and skin and hair and organs. They were not to blame because they were ignorant. But the one who saw that it was a lion and gave it life just to exhibit his skill, he was guilty of the murder of Brahmans." Then the goblin went home. And the king followed him again, and came to the sissoo tree. TWENTY-FIRST GOBLIN _The Old Hermit who exchanged his Body for that of the Dead Boy. Why did he weep and dance?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder in spite of all its writhings, and set out in silence. And the goblin on his shoulder said: "O king of kings, you are terribly obstinate about this impossible task. So to amuse the weary journey I will tell a story. Listen." In the Kalinga country was a city called Beautiful, where people lived as happily as in heaven. There ruled a famous king named Pradyumna. And in a part of this city was a region set apart by the king, where many Brahmans lived. Among them was a learned, wealthy, pious, hospitable Brahman named Sacrifice. In his old age a single son was born to him and his worthy wife. The boy grew under the fostering care of his father, and showed signs of excellence. He was called Devasoma by his father, and his parents were entirely devoted to him. In his sixteenth year the boy attracted everyone by his learning and modesty. Then he suddenly fell ill of a fever and died. When his father and mother saw that he was really dead, they embraced the body and wept aloud. But their love for him would not permit them to burn the body. So the old relatives gathered, and said to the father: "Brahman, life is imaginary like a city in the sky. Do you not know this, you who know things above and things below? The kings who enjoyed themselves like gods upon the earth, they have gone one by one to cemeteries filled with processions of weeping ghosts. Their bodies were burned by the flesh-devouring fire and eaten by jackals. No one could prevent it in their case. How much less in the case of others? Therefore, as you are a wise man, tell us what you mean by embracing this dead body?" So at last the relatives persuaded him to let his son go, and they put the body in a litter and brought it to the cemetery with weeping and wailing. At that time a hermit was fulfilling a hard vow, and was living in a hut in the cemetery. He was very thin because of his age and his hard life. His veins stuck out like cords to bind him, as if afraid that he would break in pieces. His hair was tawny like the lightning. This hermit heard the wailing of the people, and turned to his pupil who begged food for him. Now this pupil was proud and arrogant. And the hermit said: "My boy, what is this wailing we hear? Go outside and find out, then return and tell me why this unheard-of commotion is taking place." But the pupil said: "I will not go. Go yourself. My hour for begging is passing by." Then the teacher said: "Fool! Glutton! What do you mean by your hour for begging? Only one half of the first watch of the day is gone." Then the bad pupil became angry and said: "Decrepit old man! I am not your pupil. And you are not my teacher. I am going away. Do your begging yourself." And he angrily threw down his staff and bowl before the old man, and got up, and went away. Then the hermit laughed. He left his hut and went to the place where the dead Brahman boy had been brought to be burned. He saw how the people mourned over such youthful freshness dead, and felt his own age and weakness. So he made up his mind to exchange his body for the other by magic. He went aside and wept at the top of his voice. Then he danced with all the proper gestures. After that, full of the longing to enjoy the happiness of youth, he left his own withered body by magic and entered the body of the Brahman youth. So the Brahman youth came to life on the funeral pyre and stood up. And a cry of joy arose from all the relatives: "See! The boy is alive! He is alive!" Then the magician in the body of the Brahman boy said to the relatives: "I went to the other world, and Shiva gave me life and directed me to perform a great vow. So now I am going off to perform the vow. If I do not, my life will not last. Do you then go home, and I will come later." So he spoke to those gathered there, having made up his mind what to do, and sent them home full of joy and grief. He went himself and threw his old body into a pit, and then went off, a young man. When the goblin had told this story, he said to King Triple-victory, who was walking through the night: "O King, when the magician entered another person's body, why did he weep before doing it, or why did he dance? I have a great curiosity about this point." And the king was afraid of the curse, so he broke silence and said: "Listen, goblin. He thought: I am leaving to-day this body with which I won magic powers, the body which my parents petted when I was a child.' So first he wept from grief, and from love of his body which he found it hard to leave. Then he thought: With a new body I can learn more magic.' So he danced from joy at getting youth." When the goblin heard this answer, he returned quickly to the sissoo tree. And the king pursued him, undismayed. TWENTY-SECOND GOBLIN _The Father and Son who married Daughter and Mother. What relation were their children?_ The king paid no attention to the terrible witch of night, clad in black darkness, with the funeral piles as flaming eyes. He bravely went through the dreadful cemetery to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started as before. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him: "O King, I am very tired with these comings and goings, but you do not seem to be. So I will tell you my Great Puzzle. Listen." Long ago there was a king named Virtue in the southern country. He was the best of righteous men, and was born in a great family. His wife came from the Malwa country, and her name was Moonlight. And they had one daughter, whom they named Beauty. When this daughter was grown up, the relatives conspired to wreck the kingdom and drive King Virtue out. But he escaped by night, took a great many jewels, and fled from his kingdom with his beautiful wife and his daughter. He started for his father-in-law's house in Malwa, and came with his wife and daughter to the Vindhya forest. There they spent a weary night. In the morning the blessed sun arose in the east, stretching out his rays like hands to warn the king not to go into the forest where robbers lived. The king went on foot with his trembling daughter and his wife, and their feet were wounded by the thorny grass. So they came to a fortified village. It was like the city of Death; for there were no righteous people there, and it was filled with robber-men who killed and robbed other people. As the king drew near with his fine garments and his gems, many robbers saw him from a distance, and ran out armed to rob him. When the king saw them coming, he said to his wife and daughter: "These are wild men. They must not touch you. Go into the thick woods." So the queen with her daughter Beauty fled in fear into the middle of the forest. But the brave king took his sword and shield and killed many of the wild men as they charged down, raining arrows on him. Then their leader gave an order, and all the robbers fell on the king at once, wounded every limb in his body, and killed him; for he was all alone. So the robbers took the jewels and went away. Now the queen had hidden in a thicket, and had seen her husband killed. Then she fled a long distance in fear and came with her daughter into another thick wood. The rays of the midday sun were so fierce that travellers had to sit in the shade. So Queen Moonlight and Princess Beauty sat down under an ashoka tree near a lotus-pond in terrible weariness and fear and grief. Now a gentleman named Fierce-lion who lived near came on horseback with his son into that wood to hunt. The son's name was Strong-lion. And the father saw the footprints of the queen and the princess, and he said to his son: "My son, these footprints are clean-cut and ladylike. Let us follow them. And if we find two women, you shall marry one of them, whichever you choose." And the son Strong-lion said: "Father, the one who has the little feet in this line of footprints, seems to be the wife for me. The one with the bigger feet must be older. She is the wife for you." But Fierce-lion said: "My son, what do you mean? Your mother went to heaven before your eyes. When so good a wife is gone, how could I think of another?" But his son said: "Not so, Father. A householder's house is an empty place without a wife. Besides, you have surely heard what the poet says: What fool would go into a house? Tis a prisoner's abode, Unless a buxom wife is there, Looking down the road.' So, Father, I beg you on my life to marry the second one, whom I have chosen for you." Then Fierce-lion said "Very well," and went on slowly with his son, following the footprints. And when he came to the pond, he saw Queen Moonlight, radiant with beauty and charm. And with his son he eagerly approached her. But when she saw him, she rose in terror, fearing that he was a robber. But her sensible daughter said: "There is no reason to fear. These two men are not robbers. They are two well-dressed gentlemen, who probably came here to hunt." Still the queen swung in doubt. Then Fierce-lion dismounted and stood before her. And he said: "Beautiful lady, do not be frightened. We came here to hunt. Pluck up heart and tell me without fear who you are. Why have you come into this lonely wood? For your appearance is that of ladies who wear gems and sit on pleasant balconies. And why should feet fit to saunter in a court, press this thorny ground? It is a strange sight. For the wind-blown dust settles on your faces and robs them of beauty. It hurts us to see the fierce rays of the sun fall upon such figures. Tell us your story. For our hearts are sadly grieved to see you in such a plight. And we cannot see how you could live in a forest filled with wild beasts." Then the queen sighed, and between shame and grief she stammered out her story. And Fierce-lion saw that she had no husband to care for her. So he comforted her and soothed her with tender words, and took care of her and her daughter. His son helped the two ladies on horseback and led them to his own city, rich as the city of the god of wealth. And the queen seemed to be in another life. She was helpless and widowed and miserable. So she consented. What could she do, poor woman? Then, because the queen had smaller feet, the son Strong-lion married Queen Moonlight. And Fierce-lion, the father, married her daughter, the princess Beauty, because of the bigness of her feet. Who would break a promise that had been made solemnly? Thus, because of their inconsistent feet, the daughter became the wife of the father and the mother-in-law of her own mother. And the mother became the wife of the son and the daughter-in-law of her own daughter. And as time passed, sons and daughters were born to each pair. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, when children were born to the father and daughter, and other children to the son and mother, what relation were those children to one another? If you know and do not tell, then remember the curse I spoke of before?" When the king heard the goblin's question, he turned the thing this way and that, but could not say a word. So he went on in silence. And when the goblin saw that he could not answer the question, he laughed in his heart and thought: "This king cannot give an answer to my Great Puzzle. So he just walks on in silence. And he cannot deceive me because of the power of the curse. Well, I am pleased with his wonderful character. So I will cheat that rogue of a monk, and give the magic power he is striving after to this king." So the goblin said aloud: "O King, you are weary with your comings and goings in this dreadful cemetery in the black night, yet you seem happy, and never hesitate at all. I am astonished and pleased at your perseverance. So now you may take the dead body and go ahead. I will leave the body. And I will tell you something that will do you good, and you must do it. The monk for whom you are carrying this body, is a rogue. He will call upon me and worship me, and he will try to kill you as a sacrifice. He will say: Lie flat on the ground in an attitude of reverence.' O King, you must say to that rascal: I do not know this attitude of reverence. Show me first, and then I will do likewise.' Then when he lies on the ground to show you the attitude of reverence, cut off his head with your sword. Then you will get the kingship over the fairies which he is trying to get. Otherwise, the monk will kill you and get the magic power. That is why I have delayed you so long. Now go ahead, and win magic power." So the goblin left the body on the king's shoulder and went away. And the king reflected how the monk Patience was planning to hurt him. He took the body and joyfully went to the fig-tree. CONCLUSION So King Triple-victory came to the monk Patience with the body on his shoulder. And he saw the monk along in the dark night, sitting under the cemetery tree and looking down the road. He had made a magic circle with yellow powdered bones in a spot smeared with blood. In it he had put a jug filled with blood and lamps with magic oil. He had kindled a fire and brought together the things he needed for worship. The monk rose to greet the king who came carrying the body, and he said: "O King, you have done me a great favour, and a hard one. This is a strange business and a strange time and place for such as you. They say truly that you are the best of kings, for you serve others without thinking of yourself. This is the very thing that makes the greatness of a great man, when he does not give a thing up, though it costs his very life." So the monk felt sure the he was quite successful, and he took the body from the king's shoulder. He bathed it and put garlands on it, and set it in the middle of the circle. Then he smeared his own body with ashes, put on a cord made of human hair, wrapped himself in dead man's clothes, and stood a moment, deep in thought. And the goblin was attracted by his thought into the body, and the monk worshipped him. First he offered liquor in a skull, then he gave him human teeth carefully cleaned, and human eyes and flesh. So he completed his worship, then he said to the king: "O King, fall flat on the ground before this master magician in an attitude of reverence, so that he may give you what you want." And the king remembered the words of the goblin. He said to the monk: "Holy sir, I do not know that attitude of reverence. Do you show me first, and afterwards I will do it in the same way." And when the monk fell on the ground to show the attitude of reverence, the king cut off his head with a sword, and cut out his heart and split it open. And he gave the head and the heart to the goblin. Then all the little gods were delighted and cried: "Well done!" And the goblin was pleased and spoke to the king from the body he was living in: "O King, this monk was trying to become king of the fairies. But you shall be that when you have been king of the whole world." And the king answered the goblin: "O magic creature, if you are pleased with me, I have nothing more to wish for. Yet I ask you to make me one promise, that these twenty-two different, charming puzzle-stories shall be known all over the world and be received with honour." And the goblin answered: "O King, so be it. And I will tell you something more. Listen. When anyone tells or hears with proper respect even a part of these puzzle-stories, he shall be immediately free from sin. And wherever these stories are told, elves and giants and witches and goblins and imps shall have no power." Then the goblin left the dead body by magic, and went where he wanted to. Then Shiva appeared there with all the little gods, and he was well pleased. When the king bowed before him, he said: "My son, you did well to kill this sham monk who tried by force to become king of the fairies. Therefore you shall establish the whole earth, and then become king of the fairies yourself. And when you have long enjoyed the delights of heaven and at last give them up of your own accord, then you shall be united with me. So receive from me this sword called Invincible. While you have it, everything you say will come true." So Shiva gave him the magic sword, received his flowery words of worship, and vanished with the gods. 
12370	----	From scans of the Million Book Project BAGH O BAHAR; OR TALES OF THE FOUR DARWESHES. Translated from the Hindustani of Mir Amman of Dihli By Duncan Forbes, LL.D., _Professor of Oriental Languages in King's College, London; Member of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, author of several works on the Hindustani and Persian Languages._ 1874. PREFACE. The _Bagh O Bahar_, or "Garden and Spring," has, for the last half century, been held as a classical work throughout our Indian empire. It highly deserves this distinguished fate, as it contains various modes of expression in correct language; and displays a great variety of Eastern manners and modes of thinking. It is an excellent introduction not only to the colloquial style of the _Hindustani_ language, but also to a knowledge of its various idioms and popular phrases. The tale itself is interesting, if we bear in mind the fact, that no Asiatic writer of romance or history has ever been consistent, or free from fabulous credulity. The cautious march of undeviating truth, and a careful regard to _vraisemblance_, have never entered into their plan. Wildness of imagination, fabulous machinery, and unnatural scenes ever pervade the compositions of Oriental authors,--even in most serious works on history and ethics. Be it remembered, that _jinns_, demons, fairies, and angels, form a part of the _Muhammadan_ creed. The people to this day believe in the existence of such beings on the faith of the _Kur,an_; and as they are fully as much attached to their own religion as we are to ours, we ought not to be surprised at their credulity. I have rendered the translation as literal as possible, consistent with the comprehension of the author's meaning. This may be considered by some a slavish and dull compliance; but in my humble opinion we ought, in this case, to display the author's own thoughts and ideas; all we are permitted to do, is to change their garb. This course has one superior advantage which may compensate for its seeming dulness; we acquire an insight into the modes of thinking and action of the people, whose works we peruse through the medium of a literal translation, and thence many instructive and interesting conclusions may be drawn. To the present edition numerous notes are appended; some, with a view to illustrate certain peculiarities of the author's style, and such grammatical forms of the language as might appear difficult to a beginner; others, which mainly relate to the manners and customs of the people of the East, may appear superfluous to the Oriental scholar who has been in India; but in this case, I think it better to be redundant, than risk the chance of being deficient. Moreover, as the book may be perused by the curious in Europe, many of of whom know nothing of India, except that it occupies a certain space in the map of the world, these notes were absolutely necessary to understand the work. Finally, as I am no poet, and have a most thorough contempt for the maker of mere doggerel rhymes, I have translated the pieces of poetry, which are interspersed in the original, into plain and humble prose. D. FORBES 58, BURTON CRESCENT, _July_, 1857. THE PETITION OF MIR AMMAN, OF DILLI. _Which was Presented to the Gentlemen Managers of the College [of Fort William]._ May God preserve the gentlemen of great dignity, and the appreciators of respectable men. This exile from his country, on hearing the command [issued by] proclamation, [1] hath composed, with a thousand labours and efforts, the "Tale of the Four Darweshes," [entitled] the _Bagh O Bahar_ [2] [i.e. Garden and Spring,] in the _Urdu, e Mu'alla_ [3] tongue. By the grace of God it has become refreshed from the perusal of all the gentlemen [4] [of the college]. I now hope I may reap some fruit from it; then the bud of my heart will expand like a flower, according to the word of _Hakim Firdausi_, [5] who has said [of himself] in the _Shahnama_, "Many sorrows I have borne for these thirty years; But I have revived Persia by this Persian [History.] [6] I having in like manner polished the _Urdu_ tongue, Have metamorphosed _Bengal_ into _Hindustan_." [7] You gentlemen are yourselves appreciators of merit. There is no need of representation [on my part]. O God! may the star of your prosperity ever shine! MIR AMMAN'S PREFACE. "_The Name of God, Most Merciful and Gracious_." The pure God! what an [excellent] Artificer he is! He who, out of a handful of dust, hath created such a variety of faces and figures of earth. Notwithstanding the two colours [of men], one white and one black, yet the same nose and ears, the same hands and feet, He has given to all. But such variety of features has He formed, that the form and shape of one [individual] does not agree with the personal appearance of another. Among millions of created beings, you may recognise whomsoever you wish. The sky is a bubble in the ocean of his [eternal] unity; and the earth is as a drop of water in it; but this is wonderful, that the sea beats its thousands of billows against it, and yet cannot do it any injury. The tongue of man is impotent to sound the praise and eulogy of Him who has such power and might! If it utter any thing, what can it say? It is best to be silent on a subject concerning which nothing can be said. VERSE. "From earth to heaven, He whose work this is, If I wish to write his praise, then what power have I; When the prophet himself has said, 'I do not comprehend Him.' After this, if any one pretends to it, he is a great fool. Day and night the sun and moon wander through their course, and behold his works-- Yea, the form of every individual being is a sight of surprise: He, whose second or equal is not, and never will be; No such a unique Being, Godhead is every way fit. But so much I know, that He is the Creator and Nourisher. In every way his favour and beneficence are upon me." And blessings on his friend, for whose sake He created the earth and heavens, and on whom He bestowed the dignity of prophet. VERSE. "The pure body of _Mustafa_ is an emanation of Divine light, For which reason, it is well known that his body threw no shadow. [8] Where is my capacity, that I should sufficiently speak his praise; Only with men of eloquence this is an established rule." [9] And blessings and salvation be on his posterity, who are the twelve _Imams_. [10] VERSE. "The praise of God and the eulogy of the prophet having here ended; Now I begin that which is requisite to be done. O God! for the sake of the posterity of thy prophet, [11] Render this my story acceptable to the hearts of high and low." The reasons for compiling this work are these, that in the year of the _Hijra_, 1215, A.D. 1801, corresponding to the [12] _Fasli_ year 1207, in the time of his Excellency the noble of nobles, Marquis Wellesley, Lord Mornington, Governor-general, (in whose praise the judgment is at a loss, and the understanding perplexed, and in whom God has centred all the excellent qualities that great men ought to possess. In short, it was the good fortune of this country that such a chief came here, from whose happy presence multitudes enjoy ease and happiness. No one can now dare to injure or wrong another; and the tiger and the goat drink at the same _ghat_; [13] and all the poor bless him and live,) [14] the pursuit of learning came into vogue, and the gentlemen of dignity perceived that by acquiring the _Urdu_ tongue, they might hold converse with the people of India, and transact with perfect accuracy the affairs of the country; for this reason many books were compiled during this same year, according to orders. To those gentlemen who are learned, and speak the language of _Hindustan,_ [15] I address myself, and say, that this "Tale of the Four Darwesh" was originally composed by _Amir Khusru,_ [16] of _Dihli_ [17] on the following occasion; the holy _Nizamu-d-Din Auliya_, surnamed _Zari-Zar-bakhsh_, [18] who was his spiritual preceptor, (and whose holy residence was near _Dilli_, three _Kos_ [19] from the fort, beyond the red gate, and outside the _Matiya_ gate, near the red house), fell ill; and to amuse his preceptor's mind, _Amir Khusru_ used to repeat this tale to him, and attend him during his sickness. God, in the course of time, removed his illness; then he pronounced this benediction on the day he performed the ablution of cure: [20] "That whoever will hear this tale, will, with the blessing of God, remain in health:" since which time this tale, composed in Persian, has been extensively read. Now, the excellent and liberal gentleman, the judge of respectable men, Mr. John Gilchrist, (may his good fortune ever increase as long as the _Jamuna_ and _Ganges_ flow!) with kindness said to me, "Translate this tale into the pure _Hindustani_ tongue, which the _Urdu_ people, both _Hindus_ and _Musalmans_, high and low, men, women and children, use to each other." In accordance with his honour's desire, I commenced translating it into this same dialect, just such as any one uses in common conversation. But first this guilty being, _Mir Amman_, of _Dilli_, begs to relate his own story: "That my forefathers, from the time of King _Humayun_, served every king, in regular descent, with zeal and fidelity; and they [21] also (i.e. the kings), with the eye of protection, ever justly appreciated and rewarded our services. _Jagirs_, titles and rewards, were plentifully bestowed on us; and we were called hereditary [22] vassals, and old servants; so that these epithets were enrolled in the royal archives. [23] When such a family (owing to which all other families were prosperous) dwindled to such a point! which is too well [24] known to require mention, then _Suraj Mal_, the _Jat_, [25] confiscated our _Jagir_, and _Ahmad Shah_ the _Durrani_, [26] pillaged our home. Having sustained such various misfortunes, I abandoned that city, which was my native land, and the place of my birth. Such a vessel, whose pilot was such a king, was wrecked; and I began to sink in the sea of destitution! a drowning person catches at a straw, and I sustained life for some years in the city of _'Azim-abad_, [27] experiencing both good and bad fortune there. At length I left it also--the times were not propitious; leaving my family there, I embarked alone in a boat, and came in quest of a livelihood [28] to Calcutta, the chief of cities. I remained unemployed for some time, when it happened that _Nawwab Dilawar Jang_ sent for me, and appointed me tutor to his younger brother, _Mir Muhammad Kazim Khan_. I stayed with him nearly two years; but saw not my advantage [in remaining there any longer.] Then, through the assistance of _Mir Bahadur 'Ali Munshi_, I was introduced to Mr. John Gilchrist (may his dignity be lasting.) At last, by the aid of good fortune, I have acquired the protection of so liberal a person, that I hope better days; if not, even, this is so much gain, that I have bread to eat, and having stretched my feet, I repose in quiet; and that ten persons in my family, old and young, are fed; and bless that patron. May God accept [their prayers!] "The account of the _Urdu_ tongue I have thus heard from my ancestors;--that the city of _Dilli_, according to the opinion of the _Hindus_, was founded in the earliest times, [29] and that their _Rajas_ and subjects lived there from the remotest antiquity, and spoke their own peculiar _Bhakha_. [30] For a thousand years past, the _Musalmans_ have been masters there. _Mahmud_ of _Ghazni_ [31] came [there first]; then the _Ghori_ and _Lodi_ [32] became kings; owing to this intercourse, the languages of the _Hindus_ and _Musalmans_ were partially blended together. At last _Amir Taimur_ [33] (in whose family the name and empire remain to this day), conquered _Hindustan_. From his coming and stay, the _bazar_ of his camp was settled in the city; for which reason the _bazar_ of the city was called _Urdu_. [34] Then King _Humayun_, annoyed by the _Pathans_, went abroad [to Persia]; and at last, returning from thence, he punished the surviving [_Pathans_], and no rebel remained to raise strife or disturbance. When King _Akbar_ ascended the throne, then all tribes of people, from all the surrounding countries, hearing of the goodness and liberality of this unequalled family, flocked to his court, but the speech and dialect of each was different. Yet, by being assembled together, they used to traffic and do business, and converse with each other, whence resulted the common _Urdu_ language. When his majesty _Shahjahan Sahib Kiran_ [35] built the auspicious fort, and the great mosque, [36] and caused the walls of the city to be built; and inlaid the peacock throne [37] with precious stones, and erected his tent, made of gold and silver brocade; and _Nawwab' Ali Mardan Khan_ cut the canal [38] [to _Dilli_]; then the king, being pleased, made great rejoicings, and constituted the city his capital. Since that time it has been called _Shajahan-abad_, (although the city of _Dilli_ is distinct from it, the latter being called the old city, and the former the new,) and to the bazar of it was given the title of _Urdu-e Mu'alla_. [39] From the time of _Amir Taimur_ until the reign of _Muhammad Shah_, and even to the time of _Ahmad Shah_, and _Alamgir_ the Second, the throne descended lineally from generation to generation. In the end, the _Urdu_ language, receiving repeated polish, was so refined, that the language of no city is to be compared to it; but an impartial judge is necessary to examine it. Such a one God has at last, after a long period, created in the learned, acute and profound Mr. John Gilchrist, who from his own judgment, genius, labour and research, has composed books of rules [for the acquisition of it]. From this cause, the language of _Hindustan_ has become general throughout the provinces, and has been polished anew; otherwise no one conceives his own turban, language and behaviour, to be improper. If you ask a countryman, he censures the citizen's idiom, and considers his own the best; "well, the learned only know [what is correct]." [40] When _Ahmad Shah Abdali_, came from _Kabul_ and pillaged the city of _Dilli, Shah 'Alam_ was in the east. [41] No master or protector of the country remained, and [42] the city became without a head. True it is, that the city only flourished from the prosperity of the throne. All at once it was overwhelmed with calamity: its principal inhabitants were scattered, and fled wherever they could. To whatever country they went, their own tongue was adulterated by mixing with the people there; and there were many who, after an absence of ten to five years, from some cause or other, returned to _Dilli_, and stayed there. How can they speak the pure language of _Dilli_? somewhere or other they will slip; but the person who bore all misfortunes, and remained fixed at _Dilli_ and whose five or ten anterior generations lived in that city, and who mixed in the company of the great, and the assemblies and processions of the people, who strolled in its streets for a length of time, and even after quitting it, kept his language pure from corruption, his style of speaking will certainly be correct. This humble being [viz. _Mir Amman_], wandering through many cities, and viewing their sights, has at last arrived at this place. INTRODUCTION. I now commence my tale; pay attention to it, and be just to its merits. In the "Adventures of the Four Darwesh, [43]" it is thus written, and the narrator has related, that formerly in the Empire of _Rum_ [44] there reigned a great king, in whom were innate justice equal to that of _Naushirwan_, [45] and generosity like that of _Hatim_. [46] His name was _Azad-Bakht_, and his imperial residence was at Constantinople, [47] (which they call Istambol.) In his reign the peasant was happy, the treasury full, the army satisied, and the poor at ease. They lived in such peace and plenty, that in their homes the day was a festival, and the night was a _shabi barat_ [48]. Thieves, robbers, pickpockets, swindlers, and all such as were vicious and dishonest, he utterly exterminated, and no vestige of them allowed he to remain in his kingdom. [49] The doors of the houses were unshut all night, and the shops of the _bazar_ remained open. The travellers and wayfarers chinked gold as they went along, over plains and through woods; and no one asked them, "How many teeth have you in your mouth," [50] or "Where are you going?" There were thousands of cities in that king's dominions, and many princes paid him tribute. Though he was so great a king, he never for a moment neglected his duties or his prayers to God. He possessed all the necessary comforts of this world; but male issue, which is the fruit of life, was not in the garden of his destiny, for which reason he was often pensive and sorrowful, and after the five [51] regulated periods of prayer, he used to address himself to his Creator and say, "O God! thou hast, through thy infinite goodness blest thy weak creature with every comfort, but thou hast given no light to this dark abode. [52] This desire alone is unaccomplished, that I have no one to transmit my name and support my old age. [53] Thou hast everything in thy hidden treasury; give me a living and thriving son, that my name and the vestiges of this kingdom may remain." In this hope the king reached his fortieth year; when one day he had finished his prayers in the Mirror Saloon, [54] and while telling his beads, he happened to cast his eyes towards one of the mirrors, and perceived a white hair in his whiskers, which glittered like a silver wire; on seeing it, the king's eyes filled with tears, and he heaved a deep sigh, and then said to himself, "Alas! thou hast wasted thy years to no purpose, and for earthly advantages thou hast overturned the world. And all the countries thou hast conquered, what advantage are they to thee? Some other race will in the end squander these riches. Death hath already sent thee a messenger; [55] and even if thou livest a few years, the strength of thy body will be less. Hence, it appears clearly from this circumstance, that it is not my destiny to have an heir to my canopy and throne. I must one day die, and leave everything behind me; so it is better for me to quit them now, and dedicate the rest of my days to the adoration of my Maker." Having in his heart made this resolve, he descended to his lower garden. [56] Having dismissed his courtiers, he ordered that no one should approach him in future, but that all should attend the Public Hall of Audience, [57] and continue occupied in their respective duties. After this speech the king retired to a private apartment, spread the carpet of prayer, [58] and began to occupy himself in devotion: he did nothing but weep and sigh. Thus the king, _Azud Bakhht_ passed many days; in the evening he broke his fast with a date and three mouthfuls of water, and lay all day and night on the carpet of prayer. Those circumstances became public, and by degrees the intelligence spread over the whole empire, that the king having withdrawn his hand from public affairs, had become a recluse. In every quarter enemies and rebels raised their heads, and stepped beyond the bounds [of obedience]; whoever wished it, encroached on the kingdom, and rebelled; wherever there were governors, in their jurisdictions great disturbance took place; and complaints of mal-administration arrived at court from every province. All the courtiers and nobles assembled, and began to confer and consult. At last it was agreed, "that as his Highness the _Wazir_ is wise and intelligent, and in the king's intimacy and confidence, and is first in dignity, we ought to go before him, and hear what he thinks proper to say on the occasion," All the nobles went to his Highness the _Wazir_, and said: "Such is the state of the king and such the condition of the kingdom, that if more delay takes place, this empire, which has been acquired with such trouble, will be lost for nothing, and will not be easily regained." The _Wazir_ was an old, faithful servant, and wise; his name was _Khiradmand,_ a name self-significant. [59] He replied, "Though the king has forbidden us to come into his presence, yet go you: I will also go--may it please God that the king be inclined to call me to his presence." After saying this, the _Wazir_ brought them all along with him as far as the Public Hall of Audience, and leaving them there, he went into the Private Hall of Audience, [60] and sent word by the eunuch [61] to the royal presence, saying, "this old slave is in waiting, and for many days has not beheld the royal countenance; he is in hopes that, after one look, he may kiss the royal feet, then his mind will be at ease." The king heard this request of his _Wazir_, and inasmuch as his majesty knew his length of services, his zeal, his talents, and his devotedness, and had often followed his advice, after some consideration, he said, "call in _Khiradmand_." As soon as permission was obtained, the _Wazir_ appeared in the royal presence, made his obeisance, and stood with crossed arms. [62] He saw the king's strange and altered appearance, that from extreme weeping and emaciation his eyes were sunk in their sockets, [63] and his visage was pale. _Khiradmand_ could no longer restrain himself, but without choice, ran and threw himself at [the king's] feet. His majesty lifted up the _Wazir's_ head with his hands, and said, "There, thou hast at last seen me; art thou satisfied? Now go away, and do not disturb me more--do thou govern the empire." _Khiradmand_, on hearing this, gnashing his teeth, wept said, "This slave, by your favour and welfare, can always possess a kingdom; but ruin is spread over the empire from your majesty's such sudden seclusion, and the end of it will not be prosperous. What strange fancy has possessed the royal mind! If to this hereditary vassal your majesty will condescend to explain yourself, it will be for the best--that I may unfold whatever occurs to my imperfect judgment on the occasion. If you have bestowed honours on your slaves, it is for this exigency, that your majesty may enjoy yourself at your ease, and your slaves regulate the affairs of the state; for if your imperial highness is to bear this trouble, which God forbid! of what utility are the servants of the state?" The king replied, "Thou sayest true; but the sorrow which preys on my mind is beyond cure. "Hear, O _Khiradmand!_ my whole age has been passed in this vexatious career of conquest, and I am now arrived at these years; there is only death before me; I have even received a message from him, for my hairs are turned white. There is a saying; 'We have slept all night, and shall we not awake in the morning?' Until now I have not had a son, that I might be easy in mind; for which reason my heart is very sorrowful, and I have utterly abandoned everything. Whoever wishes, may take the country and my riches. I have no use for them. Moreover, I intend some day or other, to quit everything, retire to the woods and mountains, and not show my face to any one. In this manner I will pass this life of [at best but] a few days' duration. If some spot pleases me, I shall sit down on it; and by devoting my time in prayers to God, perhaps my future state will be happy; this world I have seen well, and have found no felicity in it." After pronouncing these words, the king heaved a deep sigh, and became silent. _Khiradmand_ had been the _Wazir_ of his majesty's father, and when the king was heir-apparent he had loved him; moreover, he was wise and zealous. He said (to _Azad Bakht_,) "It is ever wrong to despair of God's grace; He who has created the eighteen thousand species of living beings [64] by one fiat, can give you children without any difficulty. Mighty sire, banish these fanciful notions from your mind, or else all your subjects will be thrown into confusion, and this empire,--with what trouble and pains your royal forefathers and yourself have erected it!--will be lost in a moment, and, from want of care, the whole country will be ruined; God forbid that you should incur evil fame! Moreover, you will have to answer to God, in the day of judgment, when he will say, 'Having made thee a king, I placed my creatures under thy care; but thou hadst no faith in my beneficence, and thou hast afflicted thy subjects [by abandoning thy charge.'] What answer will you make to this accusation? Then even your devotion and prayers will not avail you, for the heart of man is the abode of God, and kings will have to answer only for the justice [65] of their conduct. Pardon your slave's want of respect, but to leave their homes, and wander from forest to forest, is the occupation of hermits, [66] but not that of kings. You ought to act according to your allotted station: the remembering of God, and devotion to him, are not limited to woods or mountains: your majesty has undoubtedly heard this verse, 'God is near him, and he seeks him in the wilderness; the child is in his arms, and there is a proclamation [of its being lost] throughout the city.' "If you will be pleased to act impartially, and follow this slave's advice, in that case the best thing is, that your Majesty should keep God in mind every moment, and offer up to him your prayers. No one has yet returned hopeless from his threshold. In the day, arrange the affairs of state, and administer justice to the poor and injured; then the creatures of God will repose in peace and comfort under the skirt of your prosperity. Pray at night; and after beseeching blessings for the pure spirit of the Prophet, solicit assistance from recluse _Darweshes_ and holy men, [who are abstracted from worldly objects and cares;] bestow daily food on orphans, prisoners, poor parents of numerous children, and helpless widows. From the blessings of these good works and benevolent intentions, if God please, it is to be fervently hoped that the objects and desires of your heart will all be fulfilled, and the circumstances for which the royal mind is afflicted, will likewise be accomplished, and your noble heart will rejoice! Look towards the favour of God, for he can in a moment do what he wishes." At length, from such various representations on the part of _Khiradmand_ the _Wazir, Azad Bakht's_ heart took courage, and he said, "Well, what you say is true; let us see to this also; and hereafter, the will of God be done." When the king's mind was comforted, he asked the _Wazir_ what the other nobles and ministers were doing, and how they were. He replied, that "all the pillars of state are praying for the life and prosperity of your majesty; and from grief for your situation, they are all in confusion and dejected. Show the royal countenance to them, that they may be easy in their minds. Accordingly, they are now waiting in the _Diwani Amm_." On hearing this, the king said, "If God please, I will hold a court to-morrow: tell them all to attend." _Khiradmand_ was quite rejoiced on hearing this promise, and lifting up his hands, blessed the king, saying, "As long as this earth and heaven exist, may your majesty's crown and throne remain. Then taking leave [of the king,] he retired with infinite joy, and communicated these pleasing tidings to the nobles. All the nobles returned to their homes with smiles and gladness of heart. The whole city rejoiced, and the subjects became boundless [in their transports at the idea] that the king would hold a general court the next day. In the morning, all the servants of state, noble and menial, and the pillars of state, small and great, came to the court, and stood each according to his respective place and degree, and waited with anxiety to behold the royal splendour. When one _pahar_ [67] of the day had elapsed, all at once the curtain drew up, and the king, having ascended, seated himself on the auspicious throne. The sounds of joy struck up in the _Naubat-Khana_, [68] and all the assembly offered the _nazars_ [69] of congratulation, and made their obeisance in the hall of audience. Each was rewarded according to his respective degree and rank, and the hearts of all became joyful and easy. At midday [70] his majesty arose and retired to the interior of the palace; and after enjoying the royal repast, retired to rest. From that day the king made this an established rule, viz., to hold his court every morning, and pass the afternoons in reading and in the offices of devotion; and after expressing penitence, and beseeching forgiveness from God, to pray for the accomplishment of his desires. One day, the king saw it written in a book, that if any one is so oppressed with grief and care as not to be relieved by [any human] contrivance, he ought to commit [his sorrows] to Providence, visit the tombs of the dead, and pray for the blessing of God on them, [71] through the mediation of the Prophet; and conceiving himself nothing, keep his heart free from the thoughtlessness of mankind; weep as a warning to others, and behold [with awe] the power of God, saying, "Anterior to me, what mighty possessors of kingdoms and wealth have been born on earth! but the sky, involving them all in its revolving circle, has mixed them with the dust." It is a bye-word, that, "on beholding the moving handmill, _Kabira_, [72] weeping, exclaimed, 'Alas! nothing has yet survived the pressure of the two millstones.'" "Now, if you look [for those heroes], not one vestige of them remains, except a heap of dust. All of them, leaving their riches and possessions, their homes and offsprings, their friends and dependants, their horses and elephants, are lying alone! All these [worldly advantages] have been of no use to them; moreover, no one by this time, knows even their names, or who they were; and their state within the grave cannot be discovered; (for worms, insects, ants, and snakes have eaten them up;) or [who knows] what has happened to them, or how they have settled their accounts with God? After meditating on these words in his mind, he should look on the whole of this world as a perfect farce; then the flower of his heart will ever bloom, and it will not wither in any circumstance." When the king read this admonition in the book, he recollected the advice of _Khiradmand_ the _Wazir_, and found that they coincided. He became anxious in his mind to put this in execution; "but to mount on horseback, [said his majesty to himself,] and take a retinue with me, and go like a king, is not becoming; it is better to change my dress, and go at night and alone to visit the graves of the dead, or some godly recluse, and keep awake all night; perhaps by the mediation of these holy men, the desires of this world and salvation in the next, may be obtained." Having formed this resolution, the king one night put on coarse and soiled clothes, and taking some money with him, he stole silently out of the fort, and bent his way over the plain; proceeding onwards, he arrived at a cemetery, and was repeating his prayers with a sincere heart. At that time, a fierce wind continued blowing, and might be called a storm. Suddenly the king saw a flame at a distance which shone like the morning star; he said to himself, "In this storm and darkness this light cannot shine without art, or it may be a talisman; for if nitre and sulphur be sprinkled in the lamp, around the wick, then let the wind be ever so strong, the flame will not be extinguished--or may it not be the lamp of some holy man which burns? Let it be what it may, I ought to go and examine it; perhaps by the light of this lamp, the lamp of my house also may be lighted, [73] and the wish of my heart fulfilled." Having formed this resolution, the king advanced in that direction; when he drew near, he saw four erratic _fakirs_, [74] with _kafnis_ [75] on their bodies, and their head reclined on their knees; sitting in profound silence, and senselessly abstracted. Their state was such as that of a traveller, who, separated from his country and his sect, friendless and alone, and overwhelmed with grief, is desponding and at a loss. In the same manner sat these four _Fakirs_, like statues, [76] and a lamp placed on a stone burnt brightly; the wind touched it not, as if the sky itself had been its shade, [77] so that it burnt without danger [of being extinguished.] On seeing this sight, _Azad Bakht_ was convinced [and said to himself] that "assuredly thy desires will be fulfilled, by the blessing [resulting from] the footsteps of these men of God; and the withered tree of thy hopes shall revive by their looks, and yield fruit. Go into their company, and tell thy story, and join their society; perhaps they may feel pity for thee, and offer up for thee such a prayer as may be accepted by the Almighty." Having formed this determination, he was about to step forward, when his judgment told him, O fool, do not be hasty! Look a little [before thee.] What dost thou know as to who they are, from whence they have come, and where they are going? How can we know but they may be _Devs_ [78] or _Ghuls_ [79] of the wilderness, who, assuming the appearance of men, are sitting together? In every way, to be in haste, and go amongst them and disturb them, is improper. At present, hide thyself in some corner, and learn the story of these _Darweshes_." At last the king did so, and hid himself in a corner with such silence, that no one heard the sound of his approach; he directed his attention towards them to hear what they were saying amongst themselves. By chance one of the _Fakirs_ sneezed, and said, "God be praised." [80] The other three _Kalandars_, [81] awakened by the noise he made, trimmed the lamp; the flame was burning bright, and each of them sitting on his mattrass, lighted their _hukkas_, [82] and began to smoke. One of these _Azads_ [83] said, "O friends in mutual pain, and faithful wanderers over the world! we four persons, by the revolution of the heavens, and changes of day and night, with dust on our heads, have wandered for some time, from door to door. God be praised, that by the aid of our good fortune, and the decree of fate, we have to-day met each other on this spot. The events of to-morrow are not in the least known, nor what will happen; whether we remain together, or become totally separated; the night is a heavy load, [84] and to retire to sleep so early is not salutary. It is far better that we relate, each on his own part, the events which have passed over our heads in this world, without admitting a particle of untruth [in our narrations;] then the night will pass away in words, and when little of it remains, let us retire to rest." They all replied, "O leader, we agree to whatever you command. First you begin your own history, and relate what you have seen; then shall we be edified." ADVENTURES OF THE FIRST DARWESH The first _Darwesh_, sitting at his ease, [85] began thus to relate the events of his travels: "Beloved of God, turn towards me, and hear this helpless one's narrative. Hear what has passed over my head with attentive ears, Hear how Providence has raised and depressed me. I am going to relate whatever misfortunes I have suffered; hear the whole narrative." O my friends, the place of my birth, and the country of my forefathers, is the land of Yaman; [86] the father of this wretch was _Maliku-t-Tujjar_, [87] a great merchant, named _Khwaja Ahmad_. At that time no merchant or banker was equal to him. In most cities he had established factories and agents, for the purchase and sale (of goods); and in his warehouses were _lakhs_ of _rupis_ in cash, and merchandise of different countries. He had two children born to him; one was this pilgrim, who, clad in the _kafni_ [88] and _saili_, [89] is now in your presence, and addressing you, holy guides; the other was a sister, whom my father, during his life time, had married to a merchant's son of another city; she lived in the family of her father-in-law. In short, what bounds could be set to the fondness of a father, who had an only son, and was so exceedingly rich! This wanderer received his education with great tenderness under the shadow of his father and mother; and began to learn reading and writing, and the science and practice of the military profession; and likewise the art of commerce, and the keeping of accounts. Up to [the age of] fourteen years, my life passed away in extreme delight and freedom from anxiety; no care of the world entered my heart. All at once, even in one year, both my father and mother died by the decree of God. I was overwhelmed with such extreme grief, that I cannot express [its anguish.] At once I became an orphan! No elder [of the family] remained to watch over me. From this unexpected misfortune I wept night and day; food and drink were utterly disregarded. In this sad state I passed forty days: on the fortieth day, [90] [after the death of my parents,] my relations and strangers of every degree assembled [to perform the rites of mourning.] When the _Fatiha_ [91] for the dead was finished, they tied on this pilgrim's head the turban of his father; [92] they made me understand, that, "In this world the parents of all have died, and you yourself must one day follow the same path. Therefore, have patience, and look after your establishment; you are now become its master in the room of your father; be vigilant in your affairs and transactions." After consoling me [in this friendly manner,] they took their leave. All the agents, factors and employés [of my late father] came and waited on me; they presented their _nazars_, and said, "Be pleased to behold with your own auspicious eye the cash in the coffers, and the merchandise in the warehouses." When all at once my sight fell on this boundless wealth, my eyes expanded. I gave orders for the fitting up of a _diwan-khana_; [93] the _farrashes_ [94] spread the carpets, and hung up the _pardas_ [95] and magnificent _chicks_. [96] I took handsome servants into my service; and caused them to be clothed in rich dresses out of my treasury. This mendicant had no sooner reposed himself in [the vacant] seat [of his father] than he was surrounded by fops, coxcombs, "thiggars [97] and sornars," liars and flatterers, who became his favourites and friends. I began to have them constantly in my company. They amused me with the gossip of every place, and every idle, lying tittle tattle; they continued urging me thus. "In this season of youth, you ought to drink [98] of the choicest wines, and send for beautiful mistresses to participate in the pleasures thereof, and enjoy yourself in their company." In short, the evil genius of man is man: my disposition changed from listening constantly [to their pernicious advice.] Wine, dancing, and gaming occupied my time. At last matters came to such a pitch, that, forgetting my commercial concerns, a mania for debauchery and gambling came over me. My servants and companions, when they perceived my careless habits, secreted all they could lay hand on; one might say a systematic plunder took place. No account was kept of the money which was squandered; from whence it came, or where it went: "When the wealth comes gratuitously, the heart has no mercy on it." [99] Had I possessed even the treasures of _Karun_, [100] they would not have been sufficient to supply this vast expenditure. In the course of a few years such became all at once my condition, that, a bare skull cap for my head, and a rag about my loins, were all that remained. Those friends who used to share my board, and [who so often swore] [101] to shed their blood by the spoonful for my advantage, disappeared; yea, even if I met them by chance on the highway, they used to withdraw their looks and turn aside their faces from me; moreover, my servants, of every description, left me, and went away; no one remained to enquire after me, and say, "what state is this you are reduced to?" I had no companion left but my grief and regret. I now had not a half-farthing's worth of parched grain [to grind between my jaws,] and give a relish to the water I drank: I endured two or three severe fasts, but could no longer bear [the cravings of] hunger. From necessity, covering my face with the mask of shamelessness, I formed the resolution of going to my sister; but this shame continued to come into my mind, that, since the death of my father, I had kept up no friendly intercourse with her, or even written her a single line; nay, further, she had written me two or three letters of condolence and affection, to which I had not deigned to make any reply in my inebriated moments of prosperity. From this sense of shame my heart felt no inclination [to go to my sister,] but except her house, I had no other [to which I could resort.] In the best way I could, on foot, empty-handed, with much fatigue and a thousand toils, having traversed the few [intervening] stages, I arrived at the city where my sister lived, and reached her house. My sister, seeing my wretched state, invoked a blessing upon me, embraced me with affection, and wept bitterly; she distributed [the customary offerings to the poor] on the occasion of my safe arrival, such as oil, vegetables, and small coins, [102] and said to me, "Though my heart is greatly rejoiced at this meeting, yet, brother, in what sad plight do I see you?" I could make her no reply, but shedding tears, I remained silent. My sister sent me quickly to the bath, after having ordered a splendid dress to be sewn for me. I having bathed and washed, put on these clothes. She fixed on an elegant apartment, near her own, for my residence. I had in the morning _sharbat_, [103] and various kinds of sweetmeats for my breakfast; in the afternoon, fresh and dried fruits for my luncheon; and at dinner and supper she having procured for me _pulaos_, [104] _kababs_, [105] and bread of the most exquisite flavour and delicious cookery; she saw me eat them in her own presence; and in every manner she took care of me. I offered thousands upon thousands of thanksgivings to God for enjoying such comfort, after such affliction [as I had suffered.] Several months passed in this tranquillity, during which I never put my foot out of my apartment. One day, my sister, who treated me like a mother, said to me, "O brother, you are the delight of my eyes, and the living emblem of the dead dust of our parents; by your arrival the longing of my heart is satisfied; whenever I see you, I am infinitely rejoiced; you have made me completely happy; but God has created men to work for their living, and they ought not to sit idle at home. If a man becomes idle and stays at home, the people of the world cast unfavourable reflections on him; more especially the people of this city, both great and little, though it concerns them not, will say, on your remaining [with me and doing nothing,] 'That having lavished and spent his father's worldly wealth, he is now living on the scraps from his brother-in-law's board.' This is an excessive want of proper pride, and will be our ridicule, and the subject of shame to the memory of our parents; otherwise I would keep you near my heart, and make you shoes of my own skin, and have you wear them. Now, my advice is that you should make an effort at travelling; please God the times will change, and in place of your present embarrassment and destitution, gladness and prosperity may be the result." On hearing this speech my pride was roused; I approved of her advice, and replied, very well, you are now in the place of my mother, and I will do whatever you say. Having thus received my consent, she went into the interior of her house, and brought out, by the assistance of her female slaves and servants, fifty _toras_ [106] of gold and laid them before me, saying, "A caravan of merchants is on the point of setting out for Damascus. [107] Do you purchase with this money some articles of merchandise. Having put them under the care of a merchant of probity, take from him a proper receipt for them: and do you also proceed to Damascus. When you arrive there in safety, receive the amount sales of your goods, and the profit which may accrue [from your merchant,] or sell them yourself [as may be most convenient or advantageous."] I took the money and went to the _bazar_; [108] and having bought articles of merchandise, I delivered them over in charge to an eminent merchant, and set my mind at ease on receiving a satisfactory receipt from him. The merchant embarked with the goods on board a vessel, and set off by sea, [109] and I prepared to go by land. When I took leave of my excellent sister, she gave me a rich dress and a superb horse with jewelled harness; she put some sweetmeats in a leather bag and hung it to the pummel of my saddle, and she suspended a flask of water from the crupper; she tied a sacred rupee on my arm, [110] and having marked my forehead with _tika_, [111] "Proceed," said she, suppressing her tears, "I have put thee under the protection of God; thou showest thy back in going, in the same happy state show me soon your face." I also said, after repeating the prayer of welfare, "God be your protector also. I obey your commands." Coming out from thence, I mounted my horse, and having placed my reliance on the protection of the Almighty, I set forward, and throwing two stages into one, I soon reached the neighbourhood of Damascus. In short, when I arrived at the city gate, the night was far advanced, and the door-keepers and guards had shut them. I made much entreaty, and added, "I am a traveller, who has come a long journey, at a great rate; if you would kindly open the gates, I could get into the city and procure some refreshment for myself and my horse." They rudely replied from within, "There is no order to open the gates at this hour; why have you come so late in the night?" When I heard this plain answer of theirs, I alighted from my horse under the walls of the city, and spreading my housing, I sat down; but to keep awake, I often rose up and walked about. When it was exactly midnight, [112] there was a dead silence. What do I see but a chest descending slowly from the walls of the fortress! When I beheld this [strange sight], I was filled with surprise, thinking what talisman is this! perhaps God, taking pity on my perplexity and my misfortunes, has sent me here some bounty from his hidden treasure. When the chest rested on the ground, I approached it with much fear, and perceived it was of wood. Instigated by curiosity, I opened it; I beheld in it a beautiful lovely woman (at the sight of whom the senses would vanish), wounded and weltering in her blood, with her eyes closed, and in extreme agonies. By degrees her lips moved, and these sounds issued slowly from her mouth, "O faithless wretch! O barbarous tyrant! Is this deed which thou hast done, the return I merited for all my affection and kindness! Well, well! give me another blow [and complete thy cruelty]: I entrust to God the executing of justice between myself and thee." After pronouncing these words, even in that insensible state, she drew the end of her _dopatta_ [113] over her face; she did not look towards me. Gazing on her, and hearing her exclamations, I became torpid. It occurred to me, what savage tyrant could wound so beautiful a lady! what [demon] possessed his heart, and how could he lift his hand against her! she still loves him, [114] and even in this agony of death, she recollects him! I was muttering this to myself; the sound reached her ear; drawing at once her veil from her face, she looked at me. The moment her looks met mine, I nearly fainted, and my heart throbbed with difficulty; I supported myself by a strong effort, and taking courage, I asked her, "tell me true, who art you, and what sad occurrence is this I see; if you will explain it, then it will give ease to my heart." On hearing these words, though she had scarce strength to speak, yet she slowly uttered, "I thank you! how can I speak? my condition, owing to my wounds, is what you see; I am your guest for a few moments only; when my spirit shall depart, then, for God's sake, act like a man, and bury unfortunate me in some place, in this chest; then I shall be freed from the tongue of the good and bad, and you will earn for yourself a future reward." After pronouncing these words, she became silent. In the night I could apply no remedy; I brought the chest near me, and began to count the _gharis_ [115] of the remaining night. I determined, when the morning came, to go into the city and do all in my power for the cure [of this beautiful woman]. The short, remaining night became so heavy [116] a load, that my heart was quite restless. At last, after suffering much uneasiness, the morning approached--the cock crowed, and the voices of men were heard. After performing the morning prayer, I inclosed the chest in a coarse canvas sack, and just as the gates opened, I entered the city. I began to inquire of every man and shop-keeper where I could find a mansion for hire; and after much search, I found a convenient, handsome house, which I rented. The first thing I did, was to take that beautiful woman out of the chest, and lay her on a soft bed made up of flocks of cotton, which I had removed to a corner. I then placed a trusty person near her, and went in search of a surgeon. I wandered about, asking of every one I met who was the cleverest surgeon in the city, and where he lived. One person said, "There is a certain barber who is unique in the practice of surgery, and the science of physic; and in these arts is quite perfect. If you carry a dead person to him, by the help of God, he will apply such remedies as will bring him to life. He dwells in this quarter [of the city,] and his name is _'Isa_." [117] On hearing this agreeable intelligence, I went in search of him, and after several inquiries, I found out his abode from the directions I had received. I saw a man with a white beard sitting under the portico of his door, and several men were grinding materials for plasters beside him. For the sake of complimenting him, I made him a respectful _salam_, [118] and said,--"having heard of your name and excellent qualities, I am come [to solicit your assistance.] The case is this: I set out from my country for the purpose of trade, and took my wife with me, from the great affection I had for her; when I arrived near this city, I halted at a little distance, as the evening had set in. I did not think it safe to travel at night in an unseen country; I therefore rested under a tree on the plains. At the last quarter of the night, I was attacked by robbers; they plundered me of all the money and the property they could find, and wounded my wife, from avidity for her jewels. I could make no resistance, and passed the remainder of the night as well as I could. Early in the morning I came into this city, and rented a house; leaving her there, I am come to you with all speed. God has given you this perfection in your profession; favour this [unfortunate] traveller, and come to his humble dwelling; see my wife, and if her life should be saved, then you will acquire great fame, and I will be your slave as long as I live." _'Isa_, the surgeon, was very humane and devout; he took pity on my misfortune, and accompanied me to my house. On examining the wounds, he gave me hopes, and said, "By the blessing of God, this lady's wounds will be cured in forty days; and I will then cause to be administered to her the ablution of cure." In short, the good man having thoroughly washed all the wounds with the decoction of _nim_, [119] he cleansed them; those that he found fit for stitching, he sewed up; and on the others he laid lint and plasters, which he took out of his box, and tied them up with bandages, and said with much kindness, "I will continue to call morning and evening; be thou careful that she remain perfectly quiet, so that the stitches may not give way; let her food be chicken broth administered in small quantities at a time, and give her often the spirit of _Bed-Mushk_, [120] with rose water, so that her strength may be supported." After giving these directions, he took his leave. I thanked him much with joined hands, [121] and added, "From the consolation you have bestowed, my life also has been restored; otherwise, I saw nothing but death before me; God keep you safe." And after giving him _'Itr_ [122] and _betel_, I took leave of him. Night and day I attended on that beautiful lady with the utmost solicitude; rest to myself I renounced as impious, and in the threshold of God I daily prayed for her cure. It came to pass that the merchant [who had charge of my merchandise,] arrived, and delivered over to me the goods I had entrusted to his care. I sold them as occasion required, and began to spend the amount in medicines and remedies. The good surgeon was regular in his attendance, and in a short time all the wounds filled up, and began to heal; a few days after she performed the ablution of cure. Joy of a wonderful nature arose [in my heart]! A rich _khil'at_, [123] and [a purse of] gold pieces I laid before _'Isa_, the surgeon. I ordered elegant carpets to be spread for that fair one [124], and caused her to sit upon the _masnad_. [125] I distributed large sums to the poor [on the joyous occasion,] and that day I was as happy as if I had gained possession of the sovereignty of the seven climes. [126] On that beautiful lady's cure, such rosy, pure colour appeared in her complexion, that her face shone like the sun, and sparkled with the lustre of the purest gold. I could not gaze on her without being dazzled with her beauty. [127] I devoted myself entirely to her services, and zealously performed whatever she commanded. In the full pride of beauty and consciousness of high rank, if ever she condescended to cast a look on me, she used to say, "Take care, if my good opinion is desirable to you, then never breathe a syllable in my affairs; whatever I order, perform without objection; never utter a breath in my concerns, otherwise you will repent." It appeared, however, from her manners, that the return due to me for my services and obedience, was fully impressed on her mind. I also did nothing without her consent, and executed her commands with implicit obedience. A certain space of time passed away in this mystery and submission--I instantly procured for her whatever she desired. I spent all the money I had from the sale of my goods, both principal and interest. In a foreign country [where I was unknown], who would trust me? that by borrowing, affairs might go on. At last, I was distressed for money, even for our daily expenses, and thence my heart became much embarrassed. With this anxious solicitude I pined daily, and the colour fled from my face; but to whom could I speak [for aid]? What my heart suffered, that it must suffer. "The grief of the poor man [preys] on his own soul." [128] One day the beautiful lady, from her own penetration, perceived [my distressed state] and said, "O youth! my obligations [to you] for the services [you have rendered] me are engraven on my heart as indelible as on stone; but their return I am unable to make at present. If there be any thing required for necessary expenses, do not be distressed on that account, but bring me a slip of paper, pen, and ink." I was then convinced that this fair lady must be a princess of some country, or else she would not have addressed me with such boldness and haughtiness. I instantly brought her the writing materials, [129] and placed them before her--she having written a note in a fair hand, delivered it to me, and said, "There is a _Tirpauliya_ [130] near the fort; in the adjoining street is a large mansion, and the master of that house is called _Sidi Bahar_; [131] go and deliver this note to him." I went according to her commands, and by the name and address she had given me, I soon found out the house; by the porter I sent word of the circumstance [of my having brought] a letter. The moment he heard [my message,] a handsome young negro, with a flashy turban on his head, came out to me; though his colour was dark, his countenance was full of animation. He took the note from my hand, but said nothing, asked no questions, and at the same pace [without a pause] entered the house. In a short time he came out, accompanied by slaves, who carried on their heads eleven sealed trays covered with brocade. He told the slaves, "Go with this young man, and deliver these trays." I, having made my salutation, took my leave of him, and brought [the slaves with their burdens] to our house. I dismissed the men from the door, and carried in the trays entrusted to me to the presence of the fair lady. On seeing them she said, "Take these eleven bags of gold pieces and appropriate the money to necessary expenses; God is most bountiful." I took the gold, and began to lay it out in immediate necessaries. Although I became more easy in my mind, yet this perplexity continued in my heart. "O God, [said I to myself,] what a strange circumstance is this! that a stranger, whose person is unknown to me, should, on the mere sight of a bit of paper, have delivered over to me so much money without question or inquiry. I cannot ask the fair lady to explain the mystery, as she has beforehand forbidden me." Through fear, I was unable to breathe a syllable. Eight days after this occurrence, the beloved fair one thus addressed me:--"God has bestowed on man the robe of humanity which may not be torn or soiled; and although tattered clothes are no disparagement to his manhood, yet in public, in the eyes of the world he has no respect paid to him [if shabbily clothed]. So take two bags of gold with thee, and go to the _chauk_, [132] to the shop of _Yusuf_ the merchant, and buy there some sets of jewels of high value, and two rich suits of clothes, and bring them with thee." I instantly mounted my horse, and went to the shop described. I saw there a handsome young man, clothed in a saffron-coloured dress, seated on a cushion; his beauty [133] was such, that a whole multitude stopped in the street from his shop as far as the _bazar_ to gaze at him. I approached him with perfect pleasure, having made my "_salam 'alaika_." I sat down, and mentioned the articles required. My pronunciation was not like that of the inhabitants of that city. The young merchant replied with great kindness, "Whatever you require is ready, but tell me, sir, from what country are you come, and what are the motives of your stay in this foreign city? If you will condescend to inform me on these points, it will not be remote from kindness." It was not agreeable to me to divulge my circumstances, so I made up some story, took the jewels and the clothes, paid their price, and begged to take my leave. The young man seemed displeased and said, "O sir, if you wished to be so reserved, it was not necessary to show such warmth of friendly greeting in your first approach. Amongst well-bred people these [134] amicable greetings are of much consideration." He pronounced this speech with such elegance and propriety, that it quite delighted my heart, and I did not think it courteous to be unkind and leave [135] him so hastily; therefore, to please him, I sat down again and said, I agree to your request with all my heart, [136] and am ready [to obey your commands.] He was greatly pleased with my compliance, and smiling he said, "If you will honour my poor mansion [with your company] to-day, then having a party of pleasure, we shall regale our hearts for some hours [in good cheer and hilarity."] I had never left the fair lady alone [since we first met,] and recollecting her solitary situation, I made many excuses, but that young man would not accept any; at last, having extorted from me a promise to return as soon as I had carried home the articles I had purchased, and having made me swear [to that effect,] he gave me leave to depart. I, having left the shop, carried the jewels and the clothes to the presence of the fair lady. She asked the price of the different articles, and what passed at the merchant's. I related all the particulars of the purchase, and the teasing invitation I had received from him. She replied, "It is incumbent on man to fulfil whatever promise he may make; leave me under the protection of God, and fulfil your engagement; the law of the prophet requires we should accept the offers of hospitality." I said, "My heart does not wish to go and leave you alone, but such are your orders, and I am forced to go; until I return, my heart will be attached to this very spot." Saying this, I went to the merchant's: he, seated on a chair, was waiting for me. On seeing me, he said, "Come, good sir, you have made me wait long." [137] He instantly arose, seized my hand, and moved on; proceeding along, he conducted me to a garden; it was a garden of great beauty; in the basons and canals fountains were playing; fruits of various kinds were in full bloom, and the branches of the trees were bent down with their weight; [138] birds of various species were perched on the boughs, and sung their merry notes, and elegant carpets were spread in every apartment [of the grand pavilion which stood in the centre of the garden]. There on the border of the canal, we sat down in an elegant saloon; he got up a moment after and went out, and then returned richly dressed. On seeing him, I exclaimed, "Praised be the Lord, may the evil eye be averted!" [139] On hearing this, exclamation, he smiled, and said, "It is fit you, too, should change your dress." To please him, I also put on other clothes. The young merchant, with much sumptuousness, prepared an elegant entertainment, and provided every article of pleasure that could be desired; he was warm in his expressions of attachment to me, and his conversation was quite enchanting. At this moment a cupbearer appeared with a flask [of wine] and a crystal cup, and delicious meats of various kinds were served up. The salt-cellars were set in order, and the sparkling cup began to circulate. When it had performed three or four revolutions, four young dancing boys, very beautiful, with loose, flowing tresses, entered the assembly, and began to sing and play. Such was the scene, and such the melody, that had _Tan-Sen_ [140] been present at that hour, he would have forgot his strains; and _Baiju-Ba,ora_ [141] would have gone mad. In the midst of this festivity, the young merchant's eyes filled suddenly with tears, and involuntarily two or three drops trickled down [his cheeks]; he turned round and said to me, "Now between us a friendship for life is formed; to hide the secrets of our hearts is approved by no religion. I am going to impart a secret to you, in the confidence of friendship and without reserve. If you will give me leave I will send for my mistress into our company, and exhilarate my heart [with her presence]; for in her absence, I cannot enjoy any pleasure." He pronounced these words with such eager desire, that though I had not seen her, yet my heart longed for her. I replied, your happiness is essential to me, what can be better [than what you propose]; send for her without delay; nothing, it is true, is agreeable without the presence of the beloved one. The young merchant made a sign towards the _chick_ and shortly a black woman, as ugly as an ogress, on seeing whom one would die without [the intervention of] fate, approached the young man and sat down. I was frightened at her sight, and said within myself, is it possible this she-demon can be beloved by so beautiful a young man, and is this the creature he praised [142] so highly, and spoke of with such affection! I muttered the form of exorcism, [143] and became silent. In this same condition, the festive scene of wine and music continued for three days and nights; on the fourth night, intoxication and sleep gained the victory; I, in the sleep of forgetfulness, involuntarily slumbered; next morning the young merchant wakened me, and made me drink some cups of a cooling and sedative nature. He said to his mistress, "To trouble our guest any longer would be improper." He then took hold of both my hands, and we stood up. I begged leave to depart; well pleased [with my complaisance], he gave me permission [to return home]. I then quickly put on my former clothes, and bent my way homewards, waited on the angelic lady. But it had never before occurred in my case, to leave her by herself and remain out all night. I was quite ashamed of myself for being absent three days [and nights], and I made her many apologies, and related the whole circumstances of the entertainment, and his not permitting me [to come home sooner]. She was well acquainted with the manners of the world, and smiling said, "What does it signify, if you had to remain to oblige your friend; I cheerfully pardon you, where is the blame on your part; when a man goes on occasions of this sort to any person's house, he returns when the other pleases to let him. But you having eaten and drunk at his entertainments for nothing, will you remain silent, or give him a feast in return? Now I think it proper you should go to the young merchant, and bring him with you, and feast him two-fold greater than he did you. Give yourself no concern about the materials [for such an entertainment]; by the favour of God, all the requisites will soon be ready, and in an excellent style, the hospitable party will obtain splendour." According to her desire, I went to the jeweller, and said to him, "I have complied with your request most cheerfully, now do you also in the way of friendship, grant my request." He said, "I will obey you with heart and soul." Then I said, "If you will honour your humble servant's house with a visit, it will be the essence of condescension. That young man made many excuses and evasions, but I would not give up the point. When [at length] he consented, I brought him with me to my house; but on the way I could not avoid making the reflection, that "if I had had the means, I could receive my guest in a style which would be highly gratifying to him. Now I am taking him with me, let us see what will be the result." Absorbed in these apprehensions, I drew near my house. Then how was I surprised to see a great crowd and bustle at the door; the street had been swept and watered; silver mace and club bearers [144] were in waiting. I wondered greatly [at what I saw], but knowing it to be mine own house, I entered, and perceived that elegant carpets befitting every apartment, were spread in all directions, and rich _masnads_ were laid out. _Betel_ boxes, _gulab-pashes, 'itr-dans, pik-duns_ [145] flower pots, narcissus-pots, were all arranged in order. In the recesses of the walls, various kinds of oranges and confectionery of various colours were placed. On one side variegated screens of _talk_, with lights behind them were displayed, and on the other side tall branches of lamps in the shape of cypresses and lotuses, were lighted up. In the hall and alcove camphorated candles were placed in golden candlesticks, and rich glass shades were placed over thorn; every attendant waited at his respective post. In the kitchen the pots continued jingling; and in the _abdar-khana_ [146] there was a corresponding preparation; jars of water, quite new, stood on silver stands, with percolators attached, and covered with lids. Further on, on a platform, were placed spoons and cups, with salvers and covers; _kulfis_ [147] of ice were arranged, and the goglets [148] were being agitated in saltpetre. In short, every requisite becoming a prince was displayed. Dancing girls and boys, singers, musicians and buffoons, in rich apparel, were in waiting, and singing in concert. I led the young merchant in, and seated him on the _masnad_; [149] I was all amazement [and said to myself] "O God, in so short a time how have such preparations been made?" I was staring around and walking about in every direction, but I could nowhere perceive a trace of the beautiful lady; searching for her, I went into the kitchen, and I saw her there, with an upper garment on her neck, slippers on her feet, and a white handkerchief thrown over her head, plain and simply dressed, and without any jewels. "She on whom God hath bestowed beauty has no need of ornaments; Behold how beautiful appears the moon, without decorations." She was busily employed in the superintendence of the feast, and was giving directions for the eatables, saying, "have a care that [this dish] may be savoury, and that its moisture, its seasoning and its fragrance, may be quite correct." In this toil that rose-like person was all over perspiration. I approached her with reverence, and having expressed my admiration of her good sense, and the propriety of her conduct, I invoked blessings upon her. On hearing my compliments, she was displeased, and said, "various deeds are done on the part of human beings which it is not the power of angels [to perform]: what have I done that thou art so much astonished? Enough, I dislike much talk; but say, what manners is this to leave your guest alone, and amuse yourself by staring about; what will he think of your behaviour? return quickly to the company, and attend to your guest, and send for his mistress, and make her sit by him." I instantly returned to the young merchant, and shewed him every friendly attention. Soon after, two handsome slaves entered with bottles of delicious wine, and cups set with precious stones, and served us the liquor. In the meantime, I then observed to the young merchant, I am in every way your friend and servant; it were well that your handsome mistress, to whom your heart is attached, should honour us with her presence; it will be perfectly agreeable to me, and if you please, I will send a person to call her. On hearing this, he was extremely pleased, and said, "Very well, my dear friend, yon have [by your kind offer] spoken the wish of my heart." I sent a eunuch [to bring her]. When half the night was past, that foul hag, mounted on an elegant _chaudol,_ [150] arrived like an unexpected evil. To please my guest I was compelled to advance, and receive her with the utmost kindness, and place her near the young man. On seeing her, he became as rejoiced as if he had received all the delights of the world. That hag also clung round the neck of that angelic youth. The [ludicrous] sight appeared, in plain truth, such as when over the moon of the fourteenth night, an eclipse comes. As many people as were in the assembly began to put their fore-fingers between their teeth, [151] saying [to themselves] "How could such a hag subdue the affections of this young man!" The eyes of all were turned in that direction. Disregarding the amusements of the entertainment, they began to attend only to this strange spectacle. Some apart observed, "O friends, there is an antagonism between love and reason! what judgment cannot conceive, this cursed love will show. You must behold _Laili_ with the eyes of _Majnun._ [152] All present exclaimed, "Very true, that is the fact." According to the directions of the lady, I devoted myself to attending on my guests; and although the young merchant pressed me to eat and drink equally with himself, yet I refrained from fear of the fair [one's displeasure], and did not give myself up to eating and drinking, or the pleasures of the entertainment. I pleaded the duties of hospitality as my excuse for not joining him [in the good cheer]. In this scene of festivity three nights and days passed away. On the fourth night, [153] the young merchant said to me with extreme fondness, "I now beg to take my leave; for your good sake I have utterly neglected my affairs these three days, and have attended you. Pray do you also sit near me for a moment, and rejoice my heart," I in my own heart imagined that "if I do not comply with his request at this moment, then he will be grieved; and it is necessary I should please my new friend and guest;" on which account I replied, "it is a pleasure to me to obey the command of your honour;" for "a command is paramount to ceremony" [154]. On hearing this, the young merchant presented me a cup of wine, and I drank it off; then the cup moved in such quick successive rounds, that in a short time all the guests in the assembly became inebriated and stupefied; I also became senseless. When the morning came, and the sun had risen the height of two spears, [155] my eyes opened, but I saw nothing of the preparations, the assembly, or the beautiful lady--only the empty house remained--but in a corner [of the hall] something lay folded up in a blanket; I unfolded it, and saw the corpses of the young merchant and of his [black] woman, with their heads severed from their bodies. On seeing this sight, my senses forsook me, and my judgment was of no avail [in explaining to me] what this was and what had happened. I was staring about me, in every direction with amazement, when I perceived a eunuch (whom I had seen in the preparations of the entertainment). I was somewhat comforted on seeing him, and asked him an explanation of these strange events. He replied briefly, "What good will it do thee to hear an explanation of what has happened, that thou askest it?" I also reflected in my mind, that what he said was true; however, after a short pause, I said to the eunuch, well, do not tell it to me; but inform me in what apartment is the beloved lady. He answered, "Certainly; whatever I know I will relate to thee; but [I am surprised] that a man like thee, possessed of understanding, should, without her ladyship's permission, and without fear or ceremony, have indulged in a wine-drinking party after an intimacy of only a few days. [156] What does all this mean?" I became much ashamed of my folly [and felt the justice] of the eunuch's reprobation. I could make no other reply than to say, "indeed I have been guilty, pardon me." At last the eunuch, becoming gracious, pointed out the beloved lady's abode, and took his leave; he himself went to bury the two beheaded bodies. I was free from any participation in that crime, and was anxious to meet the beautiful lady. After a painful and difficult search, I arrived at eventide in that street, [where she then was] according to (the eunuch's) direction; and in a corner near the door I passed the whole night in a state of agitation. I did not hear the sound of any person's footsteps, nor did any bne ask me about my affairs. In this forlorn state the morning came; when the sun rose, the lovely fair one looked at me from a window in the balcony of the house. My heart only knows the state of joy I felt at that moment. I praised the goodness of God. In the meanwhile, an eunuch came up to me, and said, "Go and stay in this [adjoining] mosque; perhaps your wishes may, in that place, be accomplished, and you may yet gain the desires of your heart." According to his advice I got up from the place [where I had passed the night], and went to the mosque; but my eyes remained fixed in the direction of the door of the house, to see what might appear from behind the curtain of futurity. 1 waited for the arrival of evening with the anxiety of a person who keeps the fast [of _Ramazan_]. [157] At last the evening came, and the heavy day was removed from my heart. All at once the same eunuch who had given me the directions to find out the lady's house, came to the mosque. After finishing the evening prayer, having come up to me, that obliging person, who was in all my secrets, gave me much comfort, and taking me by the hand, led me along with him, proceeding onwards at last having made me sit down in a small garden, he said: "Stay here until your desire [of seeing your mistress] be accomplished." Then he himself having taken his leave, went, perhaps, to impart my wishes to the beautiful lady. I amused myself with admiring the beauty of the flowers of the garden, and the brightness of the full moon, and the play of the fountains in the canals and rivulets, a display like that of the mouths of _Sawan_ and _Bhadon_; but when I beheld the roses, I thought of the beautiful rose-like angel, and when I gazed on the bright moon, I recollected her moon-like face. All these delightful scenes without her were so many thorns in my eyes. At last God made her heart favourable to me. After a little while that lovely fair one entered from the [garden] door adorned like the full moon, wearing a rich dress, enriched with pearls, and covered from head to feet with an embroidered veil; she stepped along the garden walk, and stood [at a little distance from me]. By her coming, the beauties of that garden, and the joy of my heart revived. After strolling for a few minutes about the garden, she sat down in the alcove on a richly-embroidered _masnad_. I ran, and like the moth that flutters around the candle, offered my life as a sacrifice to her, and like a slave stood before her with folded arms. At this moment the eunuch appeared, and began to plead for my pardon and restoration to her favour. Addressing myself to him, I said, I am guilty, and culpable; whatever punishment is fixed on me, let it be executed. The lady, though she was displeased, said with _hauteur_, "The best thing that can be done for him now is that he should receive a hundred bags of gold pieces, and having got his property all right, let him return to his native country." On hearing these words, I became a block of withered wood; if any one had cut my body, not a drop of blood would have issued; all the world began to appear dark before my sight; a sigh of despair burst involuntarily from my heart, and the tears flowed from my eyes. I had at that time no hope from any one except God; driven to utter despair, I ventured to say, "Well, [cruel fair,] reflect a moment, that if to this unfortunate wretch there had been a desire for worldly wealth, he would not have devoted his life and property to you. Are the acknowledgments due to my services, and my having devoted my life to you, flown all of a sudden from this world, that you have shown such disfavour to a wretch like me? It is all well; to me life is no longer of any use; to the helpless, half-dead lover there is no resource against the faithlessness of the beloved one." On hearing these words, she was greatly offended, and frowning with anger, she exclaimed, "Very fine indeed! What, thou art my lover! Has the frog then caught cold? [158] O fool, for one in thy situation to talk thus is an idle fancy; little mouths should not utter big words: no more--be silent--repeat not such presumptuous language; if any other had dared to behave so improperly, I vow to God, I would have ordered his body to be cut in pieces, and given to the kites [of the air]; but what can I do?--Your services ever come to my recollection. Thou hadst best now take the road [to thy home;] thy fate had decreed thee food and drink only until now in my house!" I then weeping, said, if it has been written in my destiny that I am not to attain the desires of my heart, but to wander miserably through woods and over mountains, then I have no remedy left. On hearing these words, she became vexed and said, "These hints and this flattering nonsense are not agreeable to me; go and repeat them to those who are fit to hear them." Then getting up in the same angry mood, she returned to her house. I beseeched her to hear me, but she disregarded what I said. Having no resource, I likewise left the place, sad and hopeless. In short, for forty days this same state of things continued. When I was tired of pacing the lanes of the city, I wandered into the woods, and when I became restless there, I returned to the lanes of the city like a lunatic. I thought not of nourishment during the day, or sleep at night; like a washerman's dog, that belongs neither to the house nor the _ghat_ [159] The existence of man depends on eating and drinking; he is the worm of the grain. Not the least strength remained in my body. Becoming feeble, I went and lay down under the wall of the same mosque; when one day the eunuch aforementioned came there to say his Friday prayers, and passed near me; I was repeating at the time, slow from weakness, this verse: "Give me strength of mind to bear these pangs of the heart, or give me death; Whatever may have been written in my destiny, O God! let it come soon." Though in appearance my looks were greatly altered, and my face was such that whoever had seen me formerly would not have recognised me to be the same person; yet the eunuch, hearing the sounds of grief, looked at me, and regarding me with attention, pitied me, and with much kindness addressed me, saying, "At last to this State thou hast brought thyself." I replied, what was to occur has now happened; I devoted my property to her welfare, and I have sacrificed my life likewise; such has been her pleasure; then what shall I do? On hearing this, he left a servant with me, and went into the mosque; when he finished his prayers, and [heard] the _Khutba_, [160] he returned to me, and putting me into a _miyana_ [161] had me carried along to the house of that indifferent fair, and placed me outside the _chik_ [of her apartment]. Though no trace of my former self remained, yet as I had been for a long while constantly with the lovely fair one, [she must have recognised me]; however, though knowing me perfectly, she acted as a stranger, and asked the eunuch who I was. That excellent man replied, "This is that unfortunate, ill-fated wretch who has fallen under the displeasure and reprehension of your highness; for this reason his appearance is such; he is burning with the fire of love; how much soever he endeavours to quench the flame with the water of tears, yet it burns with double force. Nothing is of the least avail; moreover he is dying with the shame of his fault." The fair lady jocosely said, "Why dost thou tell lies? I received from my intelligencers, [162] many days ago, the news of his arrival in his own country; God knows who this is of whom you speak." Then the eunuch, putting his hands together, said, "If security be granted to my life, [163] then I will be so bold as to address your highness." She answered, "Speak; your life is secure." The eunuch said, "Your highness is by nature a judge of merit; for God's sake lift up the screen from between you, and recognise him, and take pity on his lamentable condition. Ingratitude is not proper. Now whatever compassion you may feel for his present condition is amiable and meritorious--to say more would be [to outstep] the bounds of respect; whatever your highness ordains, that assuredly is best." On hearing this speech [of the eunuch], she smiled and said, "Well, let him be who he will, keep him in the hospital; when he gets well, then his situation shall be inquired into." The eunuch answered, "If you will condescend to sprinkle rose-water on him with your own royal hands, and say a kind word to him, then there may be hopes of his living; despair is a bad thing; the world exists through hope." Even on this, the fair one said nothing [to console me]. Hearing this dialogue, I also continued becoming more and more tired of existence. I fearlessly said, "I do not wish to live any longer on these terms; my feet are hanging in the grave, and I must soon die; my remedy is in the power of your highness; whether you may apply it or not, that you only know." At last the Almighty [164] softened the heart of that stony-hearted one; she became gracious and said, "Send immediately for the royal physicians." In a short time they came and assembled [around me]; they felt my pulse and examined my urine with much deliberation; at last it was settled in their prægnosis, that "this person is in love with some one; except the being united with the beloved object, there is no other cure; whenever he possesses her he will be well." When from the declaration of the physicians my complaint was thus confirmed, the fair lady said, "Carry this young man to the warm bath, and after bathing him and dressing him in fine clothes, bring him to me." They instantly carried me out, and after bathing me and clothing me well, they led me before the lovely angel; then that beautiful creature said with kindness, "Thou hast constantly, and for nothing, got me censured and dishonoured; now what more dost thou wish? Whatever is in thy heart, speak it out quite plainly?" O, _Darweshes!_ [165] at that moment my emotions were such that [I thought] I should have died with joy, and- swelled so greatly with pleasure, that my _jama_ [166] could hardly contain me, and my countenance and appearance became changed; I praised God, and said to her, this moment all the art of physic is centered in you, who have restored a corpse like me to life with a single word; behold, from that time to this, what a change has taken place in my circumstances [by the kindness you have shewn]." After saying this, I went round her three times, [167] and standing before her, I said, "your commands are that I should speak whatever I have in my heart; this boon is more precious to your slave than the empire of the seven climes; then be generous and accept this wretch! keep me at your feet and elevate me," On hearing this ejaculation, she became thoughtful for a moment; then regarding me askance, she said, "Sit down; your services and fidelity have been such that whatever you say becomes you; they are also engraven on my heart. Well; I comply with your request." The same day, in a happy hour, and under a propitious star the _kazi_ [168] quite privately performed the marriage rites. After so much trouble and afflictions, God shewed me this happy day, when I gained the desires of my heart; but in the same degree that my heart wished to possess this angelic lady, it felt equally anxious and uneasy to know the explication of those strange events [which had occurred]; for, up to that day I knew nothing about who she was; or who was that brown, handsome negro, who on seeing a bit of paper, delivered to me so many bags of gold; and how that princely entertainment was prepared in the space of one _pahar_; and why those two innocent persons were put to death after the entertainment; and the cause of the anger and ingratitude she showed me after all my services and kindnesses; and then all at once to elevate this wretch [to the height of happiness.]. In short, I was so anxious to develop these strange circumstances and doubts, that for eight days after the marriage ceremonies, notwithstanding my great affection for her, I did not attempt to consummate the rites of wedlock. I merely slept with her at night, and got up in the morning "re non effectâ." One morning I desired an attendant to prepare some warm water in order that I might bathe. [169] The princess smiling, said, "Where is the necessity for the hot water?" I remained silent; but she was perplexed [to account] for my conduct; moreover, in her looks the signs of anger were visible; so much so, that she one day said to me, "Thou art indeed a strange man; at one time so warm before, and now so cold! what do people call this [conduct]? If you had not manly vigour, then why did you form so foolish a wish? I then having become fearless, replied, "O, my darling, justice is a positive duty; no person ought to deviate from the rules of justice. She replied, "What further justice remains [to be done]? whatever was to happen has taken place." I answered, in truth, that which was my most earnest wish and desire I have gained; but, my heart is uneasy with doubts, and the man whose mind is filled with suspicions is ever perplexed; he can do nothing, and becomes different from other human creatures. I had determined within myself that after this marriage, which is my soul's entire delight, I would question your highness respecting sundry circumstances which I do not comprehend, and which I cannot unravel; that from your own blessed lips I might hear their explanation; then my heart would be at ease." The lovely lady frowning, said, "How pretty! you have already forgotten [what I told you]; recollect, many times I have desired you not to search into my concerns, or to oppose what I say; and is it proper in you to take, contrary to custom, such liberties?" I laughing replied, as you have pardoned me much greater liberties, forgive this also. That angelic fair, changing her looks and getting warm, became a whirlwind of fire, and said; "You presume too much; go and mind your own affairs; what advantage can you derive from [the explanation of) these circumstances?" I answered, "the greatest shame in this world is the exposure of our person; but we are conversant with one another [in that respect], hence as you have thought it right to lay aside this repugnance with me, then why conceal any other secrets from me?" Her good sense made her comprehend my hint, and she said, "This is true; but I am very apprehensive if I, wretched, should divulge my secrets; it may be the cause of great trouble." I answered, what strange apprehensions you form! do not conceive in your heart such an idea of me, and relate without restraint all the events of your life; never, never, shall they pass from my breast to my lips; what possibility, then, of their reaching the ear of another?" When she perceived that, without satisfying my curiosity she should have no rest, being without resource, she said, "Many evils attend the explanation of these matters, but you are obstinately bent upon it. Well, I must please you; for which reason I am going to relate the events of my past life--take care; it is equally necessary for you to conceal them [from the world]; my information is on this condition." In short, after many injunctions, she began the relation [of her life] as follows:--"The unfortunate wretch before you is the daughter of the King of Damascus; he is a great sovereign among sultans; he never had any child except me. From the day I was born I was brought up with great delicacy and tenderness, in joy and happiness under the eye of my father and mother. As I grew up I became attached to handsome and beautiful women; so that I kept near my person the most lovely young girls of noble families, and of my own age; and handsome female servants of the like age, in my service. I ever enjoyed the amusements of dancing and singing, and never had a care about the good or evil of the world. Contemplating my own condition thus free from care, except the praises of God, nothing else occupied my thoughts. "It so happened that my disposition became suddenly of itself so changed, that I lost all relish for the company of others, nor did the gay assembly afford me any pleasure; my temper became melancholic, and my heart sad and confused; no one's presence was agreeable to me, nor did my heart feel inclined for conversation. Seeing this sad condition of mine, all the female servants were overwhelmed with sorrow and fell at my feet [begging to know the cause of my gloom]. This faithful eunuch, who has long been in my secrets, and from whom no action of my life is concealed, seeing my melancholy, said, 'If the princess would drink a little of the exhilarating lemonade, [170] it is most probable that her cheerful disposition would be restored; and gladness return to her heart.' On hearing him say so, I had a desire [to taste it], and ordered some to be prepared immediately. "The eunuch went out [to make it up], and returned, accompanied by a young boy, who brought a goblet of the lemonade, carefully prepared and cooled in ice. I drank it, and perceived it produced the good effect ascribed to it; for this piece of service I bestowed on the eunuch a rich _khil'at_, [171] and desired him to bring me a goblet of the same every day at the same hour. From that day it became a regular duty, that the eunuch came, accompanied by the boy who brought the lemonade, and I drank it. When its inebriating quality took effect, I used in the elevation of my spirits to jest and laugh with the boy, and beguile my time. When his timidity wore off, he began to utter very agreeable speeches, and related many pleasant anecdotes; moreover, he began to heave sighs and sobs. His face was handsome and worth seeing; I began to like him beyond control. I, from the affections of my heart, and the relish I felt for his playful humour, every day gave him rewards and gratuities; but the wretch always appeared before me in the same clothes that he had been accustomed to wear, and they even were dirty and soiled. "One day I said to him, you have received a good deal [of money] from the treasury, but your appearance is as wretched as ever; what is the cause of it? have you spent the money, or do you amass it?" When the boy heard these encouraging words, and found that I enquired into his condition, he said with tears in his eyes, 'Whatever you have bestowed on this slave, my preceptor has taken from me; he did not give me one _paisa_ [172] for myself; with what shall I make up other clothes, and appear better dressed before you? it is not my fault, and I cannot help it.' At this humble statement of his, I felt pity for him; I instantly ordered the eunuch to take charge of the boy from that day, to educate him under his own eye, and give him good clothes, and not to allow him to play and skip about with other boys; moreover, that my wish was, he should be taught a respectful mode of behaviour, to fit him for my own princely service, and to wait on me. The eunuch obeyed my orders, and perceiving how my inclinations leaned, he took the utmost care of him. In a little time, from ease and good living, his colour and sleekness changed greatly, like a snake's throwing off its slough; I restrained my inclinations as much as I could, but the [handsome] form of that rogue [173] was so engraven on my heart, that I fondly wished to keep him clasped to my bosom, and never take my eyes off him for a moment. "At last, I made him enter into my companionship, and dressing him in a variety of rich clothes and all kinds of jewels, I used to gaze at him. In short, by being always with me, my longing eyes were satisfied and my heart comforted; I every moment complied with his wants and wishes; at last, my condition was such, that if on any urgent occasion he was absent for a moment from my sight, I became quite uneasy. In a few years he became a youth, and the down appeared on his cheeks; his body and limbs were well formed! then there began to be a talk about him out of doors among the courtiers. The guards of all descriptions began to forbid him from coming and going within the palace. At length, his entrance into it was quite stopped, and without him I had no rest; a moment [of absence on his part,] was an age [of pain on mine]. When I heard these tidings of despair, I was as distracted as if the day of judgment had burst over me; and such was my condition that I could not speak a word [to express my wishes]: nor yet could I live separated from him. I had no means of relief; O God, what could I do; a strange kind of uneasiness came over me, and in consequence of my distraction I addressed myself to the same eunuch [who was in all my secrets], and said to him, 'I wish to take care of this youth. In fact, the best plan is for you to give him a thousand gold pieces, to set him up in a jeweller's shop in the _chauk_, that he may from the profit of his trade live comfortably; and to build him a handsome house near my residence; to buy him slaves, and hire him servants and fix their pay, that he may in every way live at his ease.' The eunuch furnished him with a house, and set up a jeweller's shop for him to carry on the traffic, and prepared everything that was requisite. In a short time, his shop became so brilliant and showy, that whatever rich _khil'ats_ or superb jewels were required for the king and his nobles, could only be procured there; and by degrees his shop so flourished, that all the rarities of every country were to be found there; and the daily traffic of all other jewellers became languid in comparison with his. In short, no one was able to compete with him in the city, nor was his equal [to be found] in any other country. "He made a great deal of money [174] by his business; but [grief for his] absence daily preyed on my mind, and injured my health; no expedient could be hit upon by which I might see him, and console my heart. At last, for the purpose of consultation, I sent for the same experienced eunuch, and said to him, 'I can devise no plan by which I may see the youth for a moment, and inspire my heart with patience. There remains only this method, which is to dig a mine from his house and join the same to the palace.' I had no sooner expressed my wish, than such a mine was dug in a few days, so that on the approach of evening the eunuch used to conduct the young man through that same passage, in silence and secrecy [to my apartment]. We used to pass the whole night in eating and drinking, and every enjoyment; I was delighted to meet him, and he was rejoiced to see me. When the morning star appeared, and the _muwazzin_ [175] gave notice [of the time for morning prayers], the eunuch used to lead the youth by the same way to his house. No fourth person had any knowledge of these circumstances; [it was known] only to the eunuch and two nurses who had given me milk, and brought me up. "A long period passed in this manner; but it happened one day that when the eunuch went to call him, according to custom, then he perceived that the youth was sitting sorrowful and silent. The eunuch asked him, 'Is all well to-day? why are you so sad? Come to the princess; she has sent for you.' The youth made no reply whatever, nor did he move his tongue. The eunuch returned alone with a similar face, and mentioned to me the young man's condition. As the devil was about to ruin me, even after this conduct I could not banish him from my heart; if I had known that my love and affection for such an ungrateful wretch would have at last rendered me infamous and degraded, and would have destroyed my fame and honour; then I should have at that moment shrunk back from such a proceeding, and should have done penance; I never again should have pronounced his name, neither should I have devoted my heart to the shameless [fellow]. But it was to happen so; for this reason I took no heed of his improper conduct, and his not coming I imagined to be the affectation and airs of those [who are conscious of being] beloved; its consequences I have sadly rued, and thou art now also informed of these events without hearing or seeing them; or else where were you, and where was I? Well, what has happened is past. Bestowing not a thought on the conceited airs of that ass, I again sent him word by the eunuch, saying, 'if thou wilt not come to me now, by some means or other I will come to thee; but there is much impropriety in my coming there;--if this secret is discovered, thou wilt have cause to rue it; so do not act in a manner that will have no other result than disgrace; it is best that thou comest quickly [to me], otherwise imagine me arrived [near thee]. When he received this message, and perceived that my love for him was unbounded, he came with disagreeable looks and affected airs. "When he sat down by me, I asked him, 'what is the cause of your coolness and anger to-day; you never showed so much insolence and disrespect before, you always used to come without making any excuses.' To this he replied, 'I am a poor nameless wretch; by your favour, and owing to you, I am arrived to such power, and with much ease and affluence I pass my days. I ever pray for your life and prosperity; I have committed this fault in full reliance on your highness's forgiveness, and I hope for pardon. As I loved him from my soul and heart, I accepted his well-turned apology, and not only overlooked his knavery, but even asked him again with affection, what great difficulty has occurred that you are so thoughtful? mention it, and it shall be instantly removed.' "In short, in his humble way, he replied, 'Everything is difficult to me; before your highness, all is easy,' At last, from the purport of his discourse and conversation, it appeared that an elegant garden, with a grand house in it, together with reservoirs, tanks and wells, of finished masonry, was for sale, situated in the centre of the city and near his house; and that with the garden a female slave was to be sold, who sung admirably and understood music perfectly. But they were to be sold together, and not the garden alone, 'like the cat tied to the camel's neck;' [176] and that whoever purchased the garden must also buy the slave; the best of it was, the price of the garden was five thousand rupees, and the price of the slave five hundred thousand. [He concluded saying], 'Your devoted slave cannot at present raise so large a sum.' I perceived that his heart was greatly bent on buying them, and that for this reason he was thoughtful, and embarrassed in mind; although he was seated near me, yet his looks were pensive and his heart sad: as his happiness every hour and moment was dear to me, I that instant ordered the eunuch to go in the morning and settle the price of the garden and the slave, get their bills of sale drawn up, and deliver them to this person, and pay the price to their owner from the royal treasury. "On hearing this order, the young man thanked me, tears of joy came upon his face; and we passed the night as usual in laughing and delight; in the morning he took leave. The eunuch, agreeably to my orders, bought and delivered over to him the garden and the slave. The youth continued his visits at night, according to custom [and retired in the morning]. One day in the season of spring, when the whole place was indeed charming, the clouds were gathering low, and the rain drizzling fell, the lightning also continued to flash [through the murky clouds], and the breeze played gently [through the trees]--in short, it was a delightful scene. When in the _taks_ [177] the liquors of various colours, arranged in elegant phials, fell upon my sight; my heart longed to take a draught. After I had drank two or three cupfulls, instantly the idea of the newly purchased garden struck me. An irrepressible desire arose within me, when in that state, that for a short time I should enjoy a walk in that [garden]. When the stream of misfortune flows against us, we struggle in vain against the tide. [178] I involuntarily took a female servant with me, and went to the young man's house by the way of the mine; from thence I proceeded to the garden, and saw that the delightful place was in truth equal to the Elysian fields. As the raindrops fell on the fresh green leaves of the trees, one might say they were like pearls set in pieces of emerald, and the carnation of the flowers, in that cloudy day, appeared as beautiful as the ruddy crepuscle after the setting sun; the basons and canals, full of water, seemed like sheets of mirrors, over which the small waves undulated. "In short, I was strolling about in every direction in that garden, when the day vanished and the darkness of night became conspicuous. At that moment, the young man appeared on a walk [in the garden]; and on seeing me, he approached with respect and great warmth of affection, and taking my hand in his, led me to the pavilion. [179] On entering it, the splendour of the scene made me entirely forget all the beauty of the garden. The illuminations within were magnificent; on every side, gerandoles, in the shape of cypresses, and various kinds of lights in variegated lamps were lighted up; even the _shabi barat_, with all its moonlight and its illuminations, would appear dark [in comparison to the brightness which shone in the pavilion]; on one side, fire-works [180] of every description were displayed. "In the meantime, the clouds dispersed, and the bright moon appeared like a lovely mistress clothed in a lilac-coloured robe, who suddenly strikes our sight. It was a scene of great beauty; as the moon burst forth, the young man said, 'Let us now go and sit in the balcony which overlooks the garden.' I had become so infatuated, that whatever the wretch proposed I implicitly obeyed; now he led me such a dance, that he dragged me up [to the balcony.] That building was so high, that all the houses of the city and the lights of the _bazar_, appeared as if they were at the foot of it. I was seated in a state of delight, with my arms round the youth's neck; meanwhile, a woman, quite ugly, without form or shape, entered as it were from the chimney, with a bottle of wine in her hand; I was at that time greatly displeased at her sudden entrance, and on seeing her looks, my heart became alarmed. Then, in confusion, I asked the young man, 'who is this precious hag; from whence have you grubbed her up?' Joining his hands together, he replied, 'This is the slave who was bought with the garden through your generous assistance.' I had perceived that the simpleton had bought her with much eager desire, and perhaps his heart was fixed on her; for this reason, I, suppressing my inward vexation, remained silent; but my heart from that moment was disturbed and displeasure affected my temper; moreover, the wretch had the impudence to make this harlot our cup-bearer. At that moment I was drinking my own blood with rage, and was as uneasy as a parrot shut up in the same cage with a crow: I had no opportunity of going away, and did not wish to stay. To shorten the story, the wine was of the strongest description, so that on drinking it a man would become a beast. She plied the young man with two or three cups in succession of that fiery liquor, and I also bitterly swallowed half a cupfull at the importunity of the youth; at last, the shameless harlot likewise got beastly drunk, and took very unbecoming liberties with that vile youth; and the mean wretch also, in his intoxication, having become regardless, began to be disrespectful, and behave indecently. "I was so much ashamed, that had the earth opened at the moment I would have willingly jumped into it; but in consequence of my passion for him, I, infatuated, even after all these circumstances, remained silent. However, he was completely a vile wretch, and did not feel the value of my forbearance. In the fervour of intoxication, he drank off two cups more, so that his little remaining sense vanished, and he completely drove from his heart all respect for me. Without shame, and in the rage of lust, the barefaced villain consummated before me his career of infamous indecency with his hideous mistress, who, in that posture, began to play off all the blandishments of love, and kissing and embracing took place between the two. In that faithless man no sense of honour remained; neither did modesty exist in that shameless woman; 'As the soul is, so are the angels.' [181] My state [of mind] at the time was like that of a songstress who having [lost the musical time,] sings out of tune. I was invoking curses on myself for having come there, saying that I was properly punished for my folly. At last, how could I bear it? I was on fire from head to foot, and began to roll on live coals. In my rage and wrath I recollected the proverb, that 'It is not the bullock that leaps, but the sack; [182] whoever has seen a sight like this?' in saying this to myself, I came away thence. "That drunkard in the depravity of his heart thought, if I was offended now, what then would be his treatment the next day, and what a commotion I should raise. So he imagined it best to finish my existence [whilst he had me in his power.] Having formed this resolution in his mind with the advice of the hag, he put his _patka_ [183] round his neck and fell at my feet, and taking off his turban from his head, began to supplicate [my forgiveness] in the humblest manner. My heart was infatuated towards him; whithersoever he turned I turned; and like the handmill I was entirely under his control. I implicitly complied with all he desired; some way or other he pacified me, and persuaded me to retake my seat. He again took two or three cupfulls of the fiery liquor, and he induced me to drink some also. I, in the first place, was already inflamed with rage, and secondly, after drinking such strong liquor I soon became quite senseless--no recollection remained. Then that unfeeling, ungrateful, cruel wretch wounded me with his sword; yea, further, he thought he had completely killed me. At that moment, my eyes opened, and I uttered these words, 'Well, as I have acted, so I have been rewarded; but do thou screen thyself from the consequences of shedding unjustly my blood. Let it not so happen that some tyrant should seize thee; do thou wash off my blood from thy garment; what has happened is past.' "Do not divulge this secret to any one; I have not been wanting to thee even with loss of life. Then placing him under the protection of God's mercy, I fainted [from the loss of blood], and knew nothing of what afterwards happened. Perhaps, that butcher, conceiving me dead, put me into the chest, and let me down over the walls of the fortress, the same as you yourself saw, I wished no one ill; but these misfortunes were written in my destiny, and the lines of fate cannot be effaced. My eyes have been the cause of all these calamities: if I had not had a strong desire to behold beautiful persons, then that wretch would not have been my bane. [184] God so ordained that He made thee arrive there; and, He made thee the means of saving my life. After undergoing these disgraces, I am ashamed to reflect that I should yet live and show my face to any one. But what can I do? the choice of death is not in our hands; God, after killing me, hath restored me to life; let us see what is written in my future fate. In all appearance, your exertions and zeal have been of use, so that I have been cured of such wounds. Thou hast been ready to promote my wishes with thy life and property, and whatever were thy means, thou hast offered [them cheerfully]. In those days, seeing thee without money and sad, I wrote the note to _Sidi Bahar_, who is my cashier. In that note, I mentioned that I was in health and safety in such a place, and I said, "convey the intelligence of me unfortunate to my excellent mother." "The _Sidi_ sent by thee those trays of gold for my expenses; and when I sent thee to the shop of _Yusuf_ the merchant, to purchase _khil'ats_ and jewels, I felt confident that the weakminded wretch, who soon becomes friends with every one, conceiving you a stranger, would certainly form an intimacy with you, and indulging his conceit, invite you to a feast and entertainment. This stratagem of mine turned out right, and he did exactly what I had imagined in my heart. Then, when you promised him to return, and came to me and related the particulars of his insisting upon it, I was heartily pleased with the circumstance; for I knew that if you went to his house, and there ate and drank, you would invite him in return, and that he would eagerly come; for this reason, I sent thee back quickly to him. After three days, when you returned from the entertainment, and, quite abashed, made me many apologies for staying away so long, to make you easy in your mind, I replied, 'it is of no consequence; when he gave you leave then you came away; but to be without delicacy is not proper, and we should not bear another's debt of gratitude without an idea of paying it; now do you go and invite him also, and bring him along with you.' When you went away to his house, I saw that no preparations could be got ready for the entertainment at our house, and if he should all at once come, what could I do? but it fortunately happened that from time immemorial, the custom of this country has been for the kings to remain out for eight months in the year, to settle the affairs of the provinces, and collect the revenues, and for four months, during the rains, to stay [in the city] in their auspicious palaces. In those days, the king, this unfortunate wretch's father, had gone into the provinces some two or four months previously to arrange the affairs of the kingdom. "Whilst you were gone to bring the young merchant [to the entertainment], _Sidi Bahar_ imparted the particulars of my present situation to the queen (who is the mother of me impure). Again I, ashamed of my guilty conduct, went to the queen and related to her all that happened to me. Although she, from motherly affection and good sense, had used every means to conceal the circumstance of my disappearance, saying, 'God knows what may be the end of it;' she conceived it wrong to make public my disgrace for the present, and for my sake she had concealed my errors in her maternal breast; but she had all along been in search of me. "When she saw me in this condition, and heard all the circumstances [of my misfortune], her eyes filled with tears, and she said, 'O unfortunate wretch! thou hast knowingly destroyed the honour and glory of the throne; a thousand pities that thou hadst not perished also; if instead of thee I had been brought to bed of a stone, I should have been patient; even now [it is not too late to] repent; whatever was in thy unfortunate fate has happened; what wilt thou do next? Wilt thou live or die?' I replied, with excessive shame, that in this worthless wretch's fate it was so written, that I should live in such disgrace and distress after escaping such various dangers; it would have been better to have perished; though the mark of infamy is stamped on my forehead, yet I have not been guilty of such an action as can disgrace my parents. "The great pain I now feel is, that those base wretches should escape my vengeance, and enjoy their crime in each other's company, whilst I have suffered such affliction from their hands: it is a pity that I can do nothing [in order to punish them]. I hope one favour [from your majesty], that you would order your steward to prepare all the necessary articles for an entertainment at my house, that I may, under the pretence of an entertainment, send for those two wretches, and punish them for their deeds and also inflict vengeance for myself. In the same manner that he lifted his hand upon me and wounded me, may I be enabled to cut them to pieces; then my heart will be soothed; otherwise I must continue glowing in this fire of resentment, and ultimately I must be burnt to cinders. On hearing this speech, my excellent mother became kind from maternal fondness, and concealed my guilt in her own breast, and sent all the necessaries for the entertainment by the same eunuch who is in my secrets. Every necessary attendant came also, and each was ready in his own appropriate occupation. In the time of evening, you brought the [base villain who is now dead]; I wished the harlot should likewise come. "For this reason I earnestly desired you to send for her; when she also came and the guests were assembled, they all became thoroughly intoxicated and senseless by drinking largely of wine; you also got drunk along with them, and lay like a corpse. I ordered a _Kilmakini_ [185] to cut off both their heads with a sword; she instantly drew her sword and cut off both their heads, and dyed their bodies with their blood. The cause of my anger towards thee was this, that I had given thee permission for the entertainment, but not to become an associate in wine-drinking, with people thou hadst only known for a few days. Assuredly this folly on thy part was anything but pleasing to me; for when you drank till you became senseless, then what hopes of aid from you remained? But the claims of thy services so cling around my neck, that, notwithstanding such conduct, I forgive thee. And now, behold, I have related to thee all my adventures from the beginning to the end; do you yet desire in your heart any other [explanations]? In the same manner that I have, in compliance with your wishes, granted all you requested, do you also in like manner perform what I desire; my advice on this occasion is, that it is no longer proper either for you or me to remain in this city. Henceforward you are master." O devoted to God! [186] the princess having spoken thus far, remained silent. I, who with heart and soul considered her wishes paramount to everything, and was entangled in the net of her affections, replied, "whatever you advise, that is best, and I will without hesitation carry the same into effect." When the princess found me obedient, and her servant, she ordered two swift and high-mettled horses (which might vie with the wind in speed), to be brought from the royal stables, and kept in readiness. I went and picked out just such beautiful and high spirited horses as she required, and had them saddled and brought [to our house]. When a few hours of the night remained, the princess put on men's clothes, and arming herself with the five weapons, [187] mounted on one of the horses; I got on the other, completely armed, and we set out in the same direction. When night was over, and the dawn began to appear, we arrived on the banks of a certain lake; alighting from our horses, we washed our hands and faces; having breakfasted in great haste, we mounted again and set off. Now and then the princess spoke, and said, "I have for your sake left fame, honour, wealth, country and parents all behind me; now, may it not so happen, that you also should behave to me like that faithless savage." Sometimes I talked of different matters to beguile the journey, and sometimes replied to her questions and doubts, saying "O princess, all men are not alike; there must have been some defect in that base villain's parentage, that by him such a deed was done; but I have sacrificed my wealth and devoted my life to you, and you have dignified me in every way. I am now your slave without purchase, and if you should make shoes of my skin and wear them, I will not complain." Such conversation passed between us, and day and night to travel onward was our business. If through fatigue we sometimes dismounted somewhere, we then used to hunt down the beasts and birds of the woods, and having lawfully slain them, and applied salt from the salt-cellar, and having struck fire with steel [188] (from a flint), we used to broil and eat them. The horses we let loose [to graze], and they generally found sufficient to satisfy their hunger from the grass and leaves. One day we reached a large even plain, where there was no trace of any habitation, and where no human face could be seen; even in this [solitary and dreary scene], owing to the princess's company, the day appeared festive and the nights joyful. Proceeding on our journey, we came suddenly to a large river, the sight of which would appal the firmest heart. [189] As we stood on its banks, as far as the eye could reach, nothing was to be seen but water; no means of crossing was to be found. O God [cried I], how shall we pass this sea! we stood reflecting on this sad obstacle for a few moments, when the thought came into my mind to leave the princess there, and to go in search of a boat; and that until I could find some means to pass over, the princess would have time to rest. Having formed this plan, I said, "O princess, if you will allow me, I will go and look out for a ferry or ford." She replied, "I am greatly tired, and likewise hungry and thirsty; I will rest here a little, whilst thou findest out some means to pass over [the river]." On that spot was a large _pipal_ [190] tree, forming a canopy [of such extent], that if a thousand horsemen sheltered themselves under its wide-spread branches, they would be protected from the sun and rain. Leaving there the princess, I set out, and was looking all around to find somewhere or other on the ground, or the river, some trace of a human being. I searched much, but found the same nowhere. At last, I returned hopeless, but did not find the princess under the tree; how can I describe the state of my mind at that moment! my senses forsook me, and I became quite distracted. Sometimes I mounted the tree, and looked for her in every individual leaf and branch; sometimes, letting go my hold, I fell on the ground, and went round the roots of the tree as one who performs the _tasadduk_ [191]. Sometimes I wept and shrieked at my miserable condition; now I ran from west to east, then from north to south. In short, I searched everywhere, [192] but could not find any trace of the rare jewel [I had lost]; when, at last, I found I could do nothing, then weeping and throwing dust over my head, I looked for her everywhere. This idea came into my mind, that perhaps some of the _jinns_ had carried her away, and had inflicted on me this wound; or else that some one had followed her from her country, and finding her alone, had persuaded her to return to Damascus. Distracted with these fancies, I threw off and cast away my clothes, and becoming a naked _fakir_, I wandered about in the kingdom of Syria from morn until eve, and at night lay down to rest in any place [I could find]. I wandered over the whole region, but could find no trace of my princess, nor hear any thing of her from any one, nor could I ascertain the cause of her disappearance. Then this idea came into my mind, that since I could find no trace of that beloved one, even life itself was a weariness. I perceived a mountain in some wilderness; I ascended it, and formed the design of throwing myself headlong [from its summit], that I might end my wretched existence in a moment, by dashing my head to pieces against the stones, then would my soul be freed from a state of affliction. Having formed this resolution within myself, I was on the point of precipitating myself [from the mountain], and had even lifted up my foot, when some one laid hold of my arm. In the meanwhile, I regained my senses, and looking round, I saw a horseman clothed in green, with a veil thrown over his face, who said to me, "Why dost thou attempt to destroy thy life; it is impious to despair of God's mercy; whilst there is breath, so long there is hope. Three _Darweshes_ will meet thee a few days hence, in the empire of _Rum_, who are equally afflicted with thyself, entangled in the same difficulties, and who have met with adventures similar to thine; the name of the king of that country is _Azad Bakht_; he is also in great trouble; when he meets you and the other three _Darweshes_, then the wishes and desires of the heart of each of you will be completely fulfilled." I instantly laid hold of the stirrup [of this guardian angel,] and kissed it, and exclaimed, "O messenger of God, the few words you have pronounced have consoled my afflicted heart; but tell me, for God's sake, who you are, and what is your name." He replied, "My name is _Murtaza 'Ali_, [193] and my office is this, that to whomsoever there occurs a danger or difficulty, I am at hand to afford relief." Having said this much, he vanished from my sight. In short, having set my heart at ease from the happy tidings I received from my spiritual guide _[Murtaza 'Ali_], "the remover of difficulties," I formed the design of [proceeding to] Constantinople. On the road I suffered all those misfortunes which were decreed me by fate; with the hopes of meeting the princess. Through the assistance of God, I am come here, and by good fortune I have become honoured by your presence. The promised meeting has taken place between us, and we have enjoyed each other's society and conversation; now it only remains for us to be known to, and acquainted with, the king _Azad Bakht_. Assuredly after this, we five shall attain the desires of our hearts. Do you also beseech the blessings of God, and say amen. O ye holy guides! such have been the adventures which have befallen this bewildered wanderer, which have been faithfully related in your presence; now let us look forward [to the time] when my trouble and sorrows will be changed into joy and gladness by the recovery of the princess. _Azad Bakht_, concealed in silence in his corner, having heard with attention the story of the first _Darwesh_, was greatly pleased; then he betook himself to listen to the adventures of the next _Darwesh_. ADVENTURES OF THE SECOND DARWESH When it came to the turn of the second _Darwesh_ to speak, he placed himself at his ease, [194] and said-- "O friends, to this _fakir's_ story listen a little;-- I will tell it to you,--from first to the last, listen; Whose cure no physician can perform; My pain is far beyond remedy,--listen." O ye clothed in the _dalk!_ [195] this wretch is the prince of the kingdom of Persia; men skilled in every science are born there, for which reason the [Persian] proverb "_Isfahan nisfi Jahan_," [196] or "_Ispahan_ is half the world," has become well known. In the seven climes, there is no kingdom equal to that ancient kingdom; the star of that country is the sun, and of all the seven constellations it is the greatest. [197] The climate of that region is delightful, and the inhabitants are of enlightened minds, and refined in their manners. My father (who was the king of that country), in order to teach me the rules and lessons of government, made choice of very wise tutors in every art and science, and placed them over me for my instruction from my infancy. So, having received complete instruction in every kind [of knowledge], I am now learned. With the favour of God, in my fourteenth year I had learned every science, polite conversation, and polished manners; and I had acquired all that is fit and requisite for kings to know; moreover, my inclinations night and day, led me to associate with the learned, and hear the histories of every country, and of ambitious princes and men of renown. One day, a learned companion, who was well versed in history, and had seen [a great deal of] the world, said to me, "That though there is no reliance on the life of man, yet such excellent qualities are often found in him, that owing to them, the name of some men will be handed down with praise on people's tongues to the day of judgment." I begged of him to relate circumstantially a few instances on that score, that I might hear them, and endeavour to act accordingly. Then that person began to relate as follows, some of the adventures of _Hatim Ta'i_. "That there lived in the time of _Hatim_, a king of Arabia, named _Naufal_, who bore great enmity towards _Hatim_, on account of his renown, and having assembled many troops, he went up to give him battle. _Hatim_ was a God-fearing and good man; he thus conceived, that, "If I likewise prepare for battle, then the creatures of God will be slaughtered, and there will be much bloodshed; the punishment of heaven for which will be recorded against my name." Reflecting on this, he quite alone, taking merely his life with him, fled and hid himself in a cave in the mountains. When the news of _Hatim's_ flight reached _Naufal_, he confiscated all the property and dwellings of _Hatim_, and proclaimed publicly, that whoever would look out for him and seize him, should receive from the king's treasury five hundred pieces of gold. On hearing this [proclamation], all became eager, and began to make diligent search for _Hatim_. "One day, an old man and his wife, taking two or three of their young children with them, for the purpose of picking up wood, strayed near the cave where _Hatim_ was concealed; and began to gather fuel in that same forest. The old woman remarked, 'If our days had been at all fortunate, we should have seen and found _Hatim_ somewhere or other, and seizing him, we should have carried him to _Naufal_; then he would give us five hundred pieces of gold, and we should live comfortably, and be released from this toil and care,' The old woodman said, 'What art thou prating about? it was decreed in our fate, that we should pick up wood every day, place it on our heads, and sell it in the _bazar_, and [with its produce] procure bread and salt; or one day the tiger of the woods will carry us off: peace, mind thy work; why should _Hatim_ fall into our hands, and the king give us so much money?' The old woman heaved a cold sigh, and remained silent. "_Hatim_ had heard the words of the two [old people], and conceived it unmanly and ungenerous to conceal himself to save his life, and not to conduct those helpless ones to the object of their desire. True it is, that a man without pity is not a human being, and he in whose heart there is no feeling is a butcher. 'Man was created to exercise compassion, Otherwise, angels were not wanting for devotion.' In short, _Hatim's_ manly mind would not allow him to remain concealed, after what he had with his own ears heard [from the woodman]; he instantly came out, and said to the old man, 'O friend, I myself am _Hatim_, lead me to _Naufal_; on seeing me, he will give thee whatever amount of money he has promised.' [198] The old woodman replied, 'It is true that my welfare and advantage certainly consist in doing so, but who knows how he will treat thee; if he should put thee to death, then what shall I do? This, on my part, can never be done--that I should deliver over thee to thine enemy for the sake of my own avarice. In a few days I shall spend the [promised] wealth, and how long shall I live? I must die at last; then what answer shall I give to God?' _Hatim_ implored him greatly, and said, 'Take me along with thee--I say so of my own pleasure; I have ever desired that, should my wealth and life be of use to some one or other [of my fellow creatures], then so much the better.' But the old man could not in any way be persuaded to carry _Hatim_ along with him, and receive the [proclaimed reward. At last, becoming hopeless, _Hatim_ said, 'If you do not carry me in the way I wish, then I will go of myself to the king, and say, this old man concealed me in a cave in the mountains,' The old man smiled and said, 'If I am to receive evil for good, then hard will be my fate.' During this conversation, other men arrived, and a crowd assembled [around them]; perceiving the person they saw to be _Hatim_, they instantly seized him and carried him along; the old man also, a little in the rear, followed them in silent grief. When they brought _Hatim_ before _Naufal_, he asked, 'Who has seized and brought him here?' A worthless, hard-hearted [boaster] answered, 'Who could have performed such a deed except myself? This achievement belongs to my name, and I have planted the standard [of glory] in the sky.' Another vaunting fellow clamoured, 'I searched for him many days in the woods, and caught him at last, and have brought him here; have some consideration for my labour, and give me what has been promised.' In this manner, from avidity for the [promised] pieces of gold, every one said he had done the deed. The old man, in silence, sat apart in a corner, and heard all their boastings, and wept for _Hatim_. When each had recounted his act of bravery and enterprise, then _Hatim_ said to the king, 'If you ask for the truth, then it is this; that old man, who stands aloof from all, has brought me here; if you can judge from appearances, then ascertain the fact, and give him for my seizure what you have promised; for in the whole body the tongue [199] is a most sacred [member]. It is incumbent upon a man to perform what he has promised; for in other respects God has given tongues to brutes likewise; then what would have been the difference between a man and other animals?' "_Naufal_ called the old wood-cutter near him, and said, 'Tell the truth; what is the real state of the matter; who has seized and brought _Hatim_ here?' The honest fellow related truly all that had occurred from beginning to end, and added, '_Hatim_ is come here of his own accord for my sake.' _Naufal_, on hearing this manly act of _Hatim's_, was greatly astonished, and exclaimed, 'How surprising is thy liberality! even thy life thou hast not feared to risk [for the good of others]!' With regard to all those who laid false claims to having seized _Hatim_, the king ordered them to have their hands tied behind their backs, and instead of five hundred pieces of gold, to receive each five hundred strokes of a slipper on their heads, so that their lives might perish [under the punishment]. Instantly, the strokes of the slippers began to be laid on in such a style, that in a short time their heads became quite bald. True it is, that to tell an untruth is such a guilt, that no other guilt equals it; may God keep every one free from this calamity, and not give him a propensity for telling lies; many people persevere in uttering falsehoods, but at the moment of detection they meet with their dessert. "In short, _Naufal_ having rewarded all of them according to their desserts, thought it contrary to gentlemanly conduct and manliness of character to harbour enmity and strife towards a man like _Hatim_, from whom multitudes received happiness, and who, for the sake of the necessitous, did not even spare his own life, and was entirely devoted to the ways of God. He instantly seized _Hatim's_ hand with great cordiality and friendship, and said to him, 'Why should it not be the case? [200] such a man as you are can perform such an action.' Then the king, with great respect and attention, made _Hatim_ sit down near him, and he instantly restored to him the lands and property, and the wealth and moveables, he had confiscated; and bestowed on him anew the chieftainship of the tribe of _Ta,i_, and ordered the five hundred pieces of gold to be given to the old man from the treasury, who, blessing [the king], went away." When I had heard the whole of this adventure of _Hatim's_, a spirit of rivalry came into my mind; and this idea occurred to me, viz., "_Hatim_ was the only chief of his own tribe [of Arabs]. He, by one act of liberality has gained such renown, that to this day it is celebrated; whilst I am, by the decree of God, the king of all _Iran_; and it would be a pity if I were to remain excluded from this good fortune. It is certain that in this world no quality is greater than generosity and liberality; for whatever a man bestows in this world, he receives its return in the next. If any one sows a single seed, then how much does he reap from its produce! With these ideas impressed upon my mind, I called for the lord of the buildings, and ordered him to erect, as speedily as possible, a grand palace without the city, with forty high and wide gates. [201] In a short time, even such a grand palace as my heart wished for, was built and got ready, and in that place every day at all times, from morning till night, I used to bestow pieces of silver and gold on the poor and helpless; whoever asked for anything in charity, I granted it to the utmost of his desire. In short, the necessitous entered [daily] through the forty gates, and received whatever they wanted. It happened one day that a _fakir_ came in from the front gate and begged some alms. I gave him a gold piece; then the same person entered through the next gate, and asked two pieces of gold; though I recollected him [to be the same _fakir_], I passed over [the circumstance] and gave them. In this manner he came in through each gate, and increased a piece of gold in his demand each time; and I knowingly appeared ignorant [of the circumstance], and continued supplying him according to his demand. At last he entered by the fortieth gate, and asked forty pieces of gold--this sum I likewise ordered to be given him. After receiving so much, the _fakir_ re-entered from the first gate and again begged alms: his conduct appeared to me highly impudent, and I said, hear, O avaricious man, what kind of a _fakir_ art thou, that dost not even know the meaning of the three letters which compose the word [Arabic: faqr] _fakr_ (poverty); a _fakir_ ought to act up to them. He replied, "Well, generous soul, explain them yourself." I answered, "[Arabic: f] _fe_ means _faka_ (fasting); [Arabic: q] _kaf_ signifies _kina'at_ (contentment); and [Arabic: r] _re_ means _riyazat_ (devotion); [202] whoever has not these three qualities, is not a _fakir_. All this which you have received, eat and drink with it, and when it is done, return to me, and receive whatever thou requirest. This charity is bestowed on thee to relieve immediate wants and not for the purpose of accumulation. O avidious! from the forty gates thou hast received from one piece of gold up to forty; add up the amount, and see by the rule of arithmetical progression how many pieces of gold it comes to; and even after all this, thy avarice hath brought thee back again through the first gate. What wilt thou do after having accumulated so much money? A [real] _fakir_ ought only to think [of the wants] of the passing day; the following day the great Provider [of necessaries] will afford thee a new pittance. Now evince some shame and modesty; have patience, and be content; what sort of mendicity is this that thy spiritual guide hath taught thee?" On hearing these reproaches of mine, he became displeased and angry, and threw down on the ground all [the money] he had received from me, and said, "Enough, sir, do not be so warm; take back your gifts and keep them, and do not again pronounce the word generosity. It is very difficult to be generous; you are not able to support the weight of generosity, when will you attain to that station? [203] you are as yet very far from it. The word [Arabic: sakhy] _Sakhi_ (generous), is also composed of three letters; first act up to the meaning of those three letters, then you will be called generous." On hearing this I became uneasy, and said to the _fakir_, well, holy pilgrim, explain to me the meaning of those three letters. He replied, "from [Arabic: s] _sin_ is derived _sama,i_ (endurance); from [Arabic: kh] _khe_ comes _khaufi Ilahi_ (fear of God); and from [Arabic: y]_ye_ proceeds _yad_ (remembrance of one's birth and death). Until one is possessed of these three qualities, he should not mention the name of generosity; and the generous man has also this happiness, that although he acts amiss [in other points], yet he is dear to his Maker [on account of his generosity]. I have travelled through many countries, but except the princess of _Basra_, I have not seen a [person really] generous. The robe of generosity God hath shaped out on [the person] of that woman; all others desire the name, but do not act up to it." On hearing this, I made much entreaty, and conjured him [by all that was sacred] to forgive my rebuke, and take whatever he required. He would not, on any account, accept my proffered gifts, but went away repeating these words, "Now if thou wert to give all thy kingdom, I would not spit upon it, nor would I even **." [204] The pilgrim went away, but having heard such praises of the princess of _Basra_, my heart became quite restless, and no way could I be easy. Now this desire arose within me, that by some means or other I must go to _Basra_ and take a look at her. In the meantime, the king, my father, died, and I ascended the throne. I got the empire, but the idea [I had formed of going to _Basra]_] did not leave me. I held a consultation with the _wazir_ and nobles, who were the support of the throne, and the pillars of the empire, saying, I wish to make a journey to _Basra_. Do ye remain steady in your respective stations; if I live, then the duration of the journey will be short; I will soon be back. No one seemed pleased at the idea of my going; in my helplessness, my heart continued to become more and more sorrowful. One day, without consulting any one, I privately sent for the resourceful _wazir_, and made him regent and plenipotentiary [during my absence], and placed him at the head of the affairs of the empire. I then put on the ochre-coloured habit [of a pilgrim], and, assuming the appearance of a _fakir_, I took the road to _Basra_ alone. In a few days, I reached its boundaries, and [constantly] began to witness this scene; wherever I halted for the night, the servants of the princess advanced to receive me, and made me halt at some elegant house, and they used to provide me in perfection with all the requisites of a banquet, and to remain in attendance on me all night with the utmost respect. The following day, at the next stage, I experienced the same reception. In this comfort I journeyed onwards for months; at last I entered [the city of] _Basra_. I had no sooner entered it, than a good-looking young man, well dressed, and well-behaved, who carried wisdom in his looks, came up to me, and said with extreme sweetness of address, "I am the servant of pilgrims; I am always on the look out to conduct to my house all travellers, whether pilgrims or men of the world, who come to this city; except my house alone, there is no other place here for a stranger to put up at; pray, holy sir, come with me, bestow honour on my abode, and render me exalted. I asked him, "what is the noble name of your honour?" He replied, "they call the name of this nameless one _Bedar Bakht_." Seeing his good qualities and affable manners, I went along with him and came to his house. I saw a grand mansion fitted up in a princely style--he led me to a grand apartment, and made me sit down; and sending for warm water, he caused [the attendants] to wash my hands and feet; and having caused the _dastar-khwan_ [205] to be spread, the steward placed before me alone a great variety of trays and dishes, and large quantities of fruit and confectionery. [206] On seeing such a grand treat, my very soul was satiated, and taking a mouthful from each dish, my stomach was filled; I then drew back my hand from eating. [207] The young man became very pressing, and said, "Sir, what have you eaten? all the dinner remains as it were for a deposit; [208] eat some more without ceremony." I replied, there is no shame in eating; God prosper your house, I have eaten as much as my stomach can contain, and I cannot sufficiently praise the relish of your feast, and even now my tongue smacks with their flavour, and every belch [209] I make is absolutely perfumed, now pray take them away. "When the _dastar-khwan_ was removed, they spread a carpet of _kashani_ velvet, and brought to me ewers and basins of gold, with scented soap and warm water, wherewithal I might wash my hands; then _betel_ was introduced, in a box set with precious stones, and spices of various kinds; whenever I called for water to drink, the servants brought it cooled in ice. When the evening came, camphorated candles were lighted up in the glass shades; and that friendly young man sat down near me and entertained me with his conversation. When one watch of the night had elapsed, he said to me, "be pleased to sleep in this bed, in front of which are curtains and screens." I said, O, Sir, for us pilgrims a mat or a deer-skin is sufficient; this [luxury] God has ordained for you men of the world. He replied, "All these things are for pilgrims; they do not in the least belong to me." On his pressing me so urgently, I went and lay down on the bed which was softer than even a bed of flowers. Pots of roses and baskets of flowers were placed on both sides of the bedstead, and aloes and other perfumes were burning; to whichever side I turned, my senses were intoxicated with fragrance; in this state I slept. When the morning came, [the attendants] placed before me for breakfast, almonds, pistachio nuts, grapes, figs, pears, pomegranates, currants, dates, and _sharbat_ made of fruit. In this festive manner I passed three days and nights. On the fourth day I requested leave to depart. The young man said, with joined hands, "Perhaps I have been deficient in my attentions to you, for which reason you are displeased." I replied with astonishment, for God's sake, what a speech is this? the rules of hospitality [require one to stay] three days--these have I fulfilled; to remain longer would be improper; and besides this, I have set out to travel, and if I remain merely at one place, then it will not suit; for which reason I beg leave to depart; in other respects, your kindness is such that my heart does not wish to be separated from you. He then said, "Do as you please; but wait a moment, that I may go to the princess and in her presence mention [the circumstance]; and as you wish to depart [be it known to you], that all the wearing apparel and bedding, also the vessels of silver and gold, and the jewelled vessels in this guest's apartment, are your property; whatever directions you may give for the purpose of taking them away, an arrangement [to that effect] shall be made." I answered, "cease [210] to talk in this manner; I am a pilgrim, and not a strolling bard; if such avarice had a place in my heart, then why should I have turned pilgrim; and where would be the evil of [my leading] a worldly life?" That kind young man replied, "If the princess should hear of this circumstance [of your refusal], she will discharge me from my employment, and God knows what other punishment I shall receive; if you are so indifferent [to possess them], then lock up all these articles in a room, and put your seal on the door, and you may hereafter dispose of them as you please." I would not accept [his offer], and he would not submit [to me]. At last, this plan was adopted, I locked them all up in a room, and put my seal on the door, and waited [with impatience] for leave of departing. In the meantime a confidential eunuch, having on his head an aigrette, and a short robe round his loins, and a golden mace studded with gems in his hand, accompanied by several other respectable attendants, filling [various] offices, came near me with this splendour and pomp. He addressed me with such kindness and complaisance that I cannot express it, and added, "O, sir, if shewing kindness and benevolence, you do me the favour to dignify my humble dwelling with your presence, then it will not be far from courtesy and condescension. Perhaps the princess will hear that a traveller had been here, and no one had received him with courtesy and politeness; and that he had gone away as he came; for this reason God knows what punishment she will inflict on me, or how far her displeasure will be raised; yea more, it is a matter affecting my life," I refused to listen to his request, but through dint of solicitations he overcame my resistance, and conducted me to another house, which was better than the first Like the former host, he entertained me twice a day for three days and nights, with the same kind of meals, and in the morning and afternoon sherbet, and fruits for passing away the time, and he told me that I was the master of all the rich gold and silver dishes, carpets, &c, and that I might do with them whatever I pleased. On hearing these strange proposals, I was quite confounded, and wished that I might by some means take my leave and escape from this place. On perceiving my [embarassed] countenance, the eunuch said, "O creature of God, whatever your wants or wishes may be, impart them to me, that I may lay them before the princess." I replied, "in the garb of a pilgrim, how can I desire the riches of this world, which you offer me unasked, and which I refuse?" He then said, "The desire of worldly goods forsakes the heart of no one, for which reason some poet has composed these verses:-- "I have seen [ascetics] with nails unpared; I have seen [others] with hair thickly matted; I have seen _jogis_ [211] with their ears split, Having their bodies covered with ashes; I have seen the _maunis_ [212] who never speak; I have seen the _sevras_ [213] with heads shaved; I have seen [the people] sporting, In the forest of _Ban-khandi_; I have seen the brave, I have seen heroes; I have seen the wise and the foolish, all; I have seen those filled with delusion, Continuing in forgetfulness amidst their wealth; I have seen those [who were] happy from first to last. I have seen those [who were] afflicted from their birth; But never have I seen those [men] In whose minds avarice did not exist." On hearing these [lines], I replied, what you say is true, but I want nothing; if you will permit, I will write out a note and send it which will express my wish, and which you will convey to the presence of the princess, it will be [doing me] a great favour, as if I had received all the riches in the world. The eunuch said, "I will do it with pleasure, there is no difficulty in it." I immediately wrote a note to the following purport:--first, I began with the praise of God; I then related my circumstances and situation, saying, "that this creature of God had, some days since, arrived in the city, and from the munificence of her government, had been taken care of in every way; that I had heard such accounts of her highness's generosity and munificence, as had raised in me an ardent desire to see her, and that I had found those qualities four-fold greater than they had been represented. Your nobles now tell me to set forth before you whatever wants or wishes I may have; for this reason I beg to represent to you without ceremony the wishes of my heart. I am not in want of the riches of this world. I am also the king of my own country; my sole reason for coming so far and undergoing such fatigues, was the ardent desire I had to see you, which motive only has conducted me here in this manner quite alone. I now hope through your benevolence to attain the wishes of my heart; I shall then be satisfied. Any further favours will rest with your pleasure; but if the request of this wretch is not granted, then he will wander about in this same manner, encountering hardships, and sacrifice his restless life to the passion he feels for you. Like _Majnun_ and _Farhad_, [214] he will end his life in some forest or mountain." Having written my wishes, I gave the note to the eunuch; he carried it to the princess. After a short while, he returned and called me, and conducted me to the door of the seraglio. On arriving there, I saw an elderly and respectable woman dressed in jewels, sitting on a golden stool, and many eunuchs and other servants richly clothed, were standing before her with arms across. I imagining her to be the superintendent of affairs, and regarding her as a venerable [person], made her my obeisance; the old lady returned my salute with much civility, and said, "Come and sit down, you are welcome; it is you who wrote an affectionate note to the princess." I feeling ashamed, hung down my head and remained sitting silent. After a short pause, she said, "O, young man, the princess has sent you her _salam_, [215] and said thus, 'There is nothing wrong in my taking a husband; you have solicited me [in marriage]; but to speak of your kingdom, and to conceive yourself a king in this mendicant state, and to be proud of it, is quite out of place; for this reason, that all men among each other are certainly equal; although superior consideration ought to be due to those who are of the religion of _Muhammad_. I also have wished for a long while to marry, and as you are indifferent to worldly riches, to me likewise God has given such wealth as cannot be counted. But there is one condition, that first of all you procure my marriage portion.' [216] The marriage-gift of the princess," added the old lady, "is a certain task to perform, if yon can fulfil it." I replied, "I am ready in every way, and I shall not be sparing of my wealth or life; tell me what the task is, that I may hear it. The old woman then said, "Remain here to-day, and tomorrow I will tell it to you." I accepted [her proposal] with pleasure, and taking my leave, I came out. The day had in the meantime passed away, and when the evening came, a eunuch called upon me, and conducted me to the seraglio. On entering, I saw that the nobles, the learned, the virtuous, and the sages of the divine law were present. I likewise joined the assembly and sat down. In the meantime the cloth for the repast was spread, and eatables of every variety, both sweet and salt, were laid out. They all began to eat, and with courtesy solicited me to join them. When dinner was over, a female servant came out from the interior [of the seraglio] and asked, "Where is _Bahrawar_? call him." The servants in waiting brought him immediately; his appearance was very respectable, and many keys of silver and gold were suspended from his waist. After saluting me, he sat down by me. The same female servant said, "O, _Bahrawar_, whatever thou hast seen, relate it fully [to this stranger]." _Bahrawar_, addressing himself to me, began the following narration:--"O, friend! our princess possesses thousands of slaves, who are established in trade; among them I am one of the humblest of her hereditary servants. She sends them to different countries with goods and merchandise, worth _lakhs_ of rupees, of which they have the charge; when these return [from the respective countries to which they were sent to trade], then the princess, in her own presence, inquires of them the state and manners of such country, and hears [their different accounts]. Once it so happened that this meanest [of her slaves] went to the country and city of _Nimroz_ [217] to trade, and perceiving that all the inhabitants were dressed in black, and that they sighed and wept every moment, and it appeared to me that some sad calamity had befallen them. From whomsoever I asked the reason [of these strange circumstances], no one would answer my inquiry. One day, the moment the morning appeared, all the inhabitants of the city, little and great, young and old, poor and rich, issued forth. They went out and assembled on a plain; the king of the country went there also mounted on horseback, and surrounded by his nobles; then they all formed a regular line, and stood still. "I also stood among them to see the strange sight, for it clearly appeared that they were waiting for [the arrival of] some one. In an hour's time a beautiful young man, of an angelic form, about fifteen or sixteen years of age, uttering a loud noise, and foaming at the mouth, and mounted on a dun bull, holding something in one hand, approached from a distance, and came up in front of the people; he descended from the bull, and sat down [oriental fashion] on the ground, holding the halter of the animal in one hand, and a naked sword in the other; a rosy-coloured, beautiful [attendant] was with him; the young man gave him that which he held in his hand; the slave took it, and went along showing it to all of them from one end of the line to the other; but such was the nature [of the object], that whoever saw it, the same involuntarily wept aloud and bitterly [at the strange sight]. In this way he continued to show it to every one, and made every one weep; then passing along the front of the line, he returned to his master again. "The moment he came near him, the young man rose up, and with the sword severed the attendant's head [from his body], and having again mounted his bull, galloped off towards the quarter from whence he had come. All [present] stood looking on. When he disappeared from their sight, the inhabitants returned to the city. I was anxiously asking every one I met the real meaning of this strange occurrence; yea, I even held out the inducement of money and beseeched and flattered them to get an explanation, who the young man was, and why he committed the deed [I had seen], and from whence he came, and where he went, but no one would give me the slightest information on the subject, nor could I comprehend it. When I returned here, I related to the princess the astonishing circumstance I had seen. Since then, the princess herself has been amazed [at the strange event], and anxious to ascertain its real cause. For which reason she has been fixed on this very point as her marriage portion, that whatever man will bring her a true and particular account of that strange circumstance, she will accept him [in marriage]; and he shall be the master of all her wealth, her country, and herself." [_Bahrawar_ concluded by saying], "You have now heard every circumstance; reflect within yourself if you can bring the intelligence [which is required] respecting the young man, then undertake the journey towards the country of _Nimroz_, and depart soon, or else refuse [the conditions and the attempt], and return to your home." I answered, "If God please, I will soon ascertain all the circumstances [relating to the strange event], and return to the princess with success; or if my fate be unlucky, then there is no remedy; but the princess must give me her solemn promise she will not swerve from what she engages [to perform]. And now an uneasy apprehension arises in my heart; if the princess will have the benevolence to call me before her, and allow me to sit down outside the _parda_, and hear with her own ears the request I have made, and favour me with an answer from her own lips; then my heart will be at ease, and every thing will be possible for me." These my requests the female servant related to the fairy-formed princess. At last, by way of condescension, she ordered me to be called before her. The same female returned, and conducted me to the apartment where the princess was; what [a display of beauty] I saw! Handsome female slaves and servants, and armed damsels, from _Kilmak, Turkistan, Abyssinia, Uzbak Tartary and Kashmir_, were drawn up in two lines, dressed in rich jewels, with their arms folded across, and each standing in her appropriate station. Shall I call this the court of Indra? or is it a descent on the part of the fairies? an involuntary sigh of rapture escaped [from my breast], and my heart began to palpitate; but I forcibly restrained myself. Regarding them all around, I advanced on; but my feet became each as heavy as a hundred _mans_. [218] Whenever I gazed on one of those lovely women, my heart was unwilling to proceed farther. On one side [of the saloon] a screen was suspended, and a stool set with precious stones was placed near it, as well as a chair of sandal-wood; the female servant made me a sign to sit down on the [jewelled] stool; I sat down upon it, and she seated herself on the [sandal-wood chair]; she said, "Now, whatever you have to say, speak it fully and from the heart." I first extolled the princess's excellent qualities, also her justice and liberality; I then added, that "ever since I have entered the limits of this country, I saw at every stage accommodations for travellers and lofty buildings; and found everywhere servants of all grades appointed to attend upon travellers and necessitous persons. I have likewise spent three days at every halting place, and the fourth day, when I wished to take my leave, no one said with good will, "You may depart;" and whatever articles and furniture had been [applied to my use] at those places, such as chequered carpets, [219] &c., &c., I was told that they were all mine, and that I might either take them away or lock them up in a room, and put my seal on it; that, should it be my pleasure, whenever I came back I might take them away. I have done so; but the wonder is, that if a lonely pilgrim like me has met with such a [princely] reception, then there must be thousands of such pilgrims who will resort to your dominions; and if every one is hospitably received in the same manner [as myself], sums incalculable must be spent. Now, whence comes the great wealth of which there is such an expenditure, and of what nature is it? The treasures of _Karun_ would not be equal to it; and if we look at the princess's territories, it would appear that their revenues would hardly suffice to defray the kitchen charges, setting the other expenses aside. If the princess would condescend to explain this [seeming wonder] with her own lips, then, my mind being set at ease, I shall set out for the country of _Nimroz_; and reaching it by some means or other, after having learned all the particulars [of the strange circumstance], I will return, if God should spare my life, to the presence of the princess, and attain the desires of my heart." On hearing these words, the princess herself said, "O youth, if you have a strong desire to know the exact nature of these circumstances, then stay here to-day also. I will send for you in the evening, and the account of my vast riches shall be unfolded to you without any reservation." After this assurance, I retired to my place of residence, and waited anxiously, (saying,) "when will the evening arrive, that my curiosity may be gratified?" In the meantime a eunuch brought some covered trays on the heads of porters, and laid them before me, and said, "The princess has sent you a dinner [220] from her own table; partake of it." When he uncovered the trays before me, the rich fragrance [of the meats] intoxicated my brains, and my soul became satiated. I ate as much as I could, and sent away the rest, and returned my grateful thanks [to the princess.] At last, when the sun, the traveller of the whole day, wearied and fatigued, reached his home, and the moon advanced from her palace, attended by her companions, then the female servant came to me and said, "Come, the princess has sent for you." I went along with her; she led me to the private apartment; the effect of the lights was such that the _shabi kadr_ [221] was nothing to it. A _masnad_, covered with gold, was placed on rich carpets, with a pillow studded with jewels; over it an awning of brocade was stretched, with a fringe of pearls on [silver] poles studded with precious stones; and in front of the _masnad_ artificial trees formed of various jewels, with flowers and leaves attached, (one would say they were nature's own production,) were erected in beds of gold; and on the right and left, beautiful slaves and servants were in waiting with folded arms and down-cast eyes, in respectful attitude. Dancing women and female singers, with ready-tuned instruments, attended to begin their performances. On seeing such a scene and such splendid preparations, my senses were bewildered. I asked the female servant [who came with me] "there is here such gay splendour in the scene of the day, and such magnificence in that of the night, that the day may very justly be called _'Id_, and the night _shabi barat_; moreover, a king who possessed the whole world could not exhibit greater splendour and magnificence. Is it always so at the princess's court? The servant replied, "The princess's court ever displays the same magnificence you see now; there is no abatement [or difference], except that it is sometimes greater: sit you here; the princess is in another apartment,--I will go and inform her of your arrival." Saying this, the nurse went away and quickly returned; he desired me to come to the princess. The moment I entered her apartment I was struck with amazement. I could not tell where the door was, or where the walls, for they were covered with Aleppo mirrors, of the height of a man, all around, the frames of which were studded with diamonds and pearls. The reflection of one fell on the other, and it appeared as if the whole room was inlaid with jewels. At one end a _parda_ was hung, behind which the princess sat. The female servant seated herself close to the _parda_, and desired me to sit down also; then she began the following narrative, according to the princess's commands--"Hear, O intelligent youth! The sultan of this country was a potent king; he had seven daughters born in his house. One day, the king held a festival, and these seven daughters were standing before him [superbly dressed], with each sixteen jewels, twelve ornaments, and in every hair an elephant pearl. Something came into the king's mind, and he looked towards his daughters and said, 'If your father had not been a king, and you had been born in the house of some poor man, then who would have called you princesses? Praise God that you are called princesses; all your good fortune depends on my life.' "Six of his daughters being of one mind, replied, 'Whatever your majesty says, is true, and our happiness depends on your welfare alone.' But the princess now present, though she was younger [than all her sisters], yet even in sense and judgment, even at that age, she was superior to them, all. She stood silent, and did not join her sisters in the reply they made; for this reason, that to say so was impious. The king looked towards her with anger, and said, 'Well, my lady, you say nothing; what is the cause of this?' Then the princess, tying both her hands with a handkerchief, humbly replied, 'If your majesty will grant me safety [of my life], and pardon my presumption, then this humble slave will unfold the dictates of her heart.' The king said, 'Speak what thou hast to say.' Then the princess said, 'Mighty king, you must have heard, that the voice of truth is bitter; for which reason, disregarding life at this moment, I presume to address your majesty; whatever the great Writer has written in [the book of] my destiny, no one can efface, and in no way can it be evaded. "Whether you bruise your feet [by depending on your own exertions], or lay your head on the carpet [in prayer], your fate [written] on the forehead, whatever it be, shall come to pass." "'That Almighty Ruler, who has made you a king, He indeed also has made me a princess. In the arsenal of his omnipotence, no one has power. You are my sovereign and benefactor, and if I should apply the dust which lies under your auspicious feet, as a colyrium [for my eyes], then it would become me; but the destinies of every one are with every one.' The king, on hearing this [speech], became angry; the reply displeased him highly, and he said with wrath, 'What great words issue from a little mouth! Now let this be her punishment, that you strip off whatever jewels she has on her hands and feet, and let her be placed in a sedan-chair, and set down in such a wilderness, where no human traces can be found; then we shall see what is written in her destinies.' "According to the king's commands, at that midnight hour, when it was the very essence of darkness, the princess (who had been reared with such delicacy and tenderness), and had seen no other place except her own apartments, was carried by the porters in a litter, and set down in a place where not even a bird ever flapped its wing, much less did human creatures there exist; they left her there and returned. The princess's heart was all at once in such a state [as cannot be conceived]; reduced to what she was, from what she had been! Then in the threshold of God, she offered up her prayers, and said, "Thou art so mighty [O Lord], that what thou hast wished, Thou hast done; and whatever Thou willest, Thou dost; and whatever Thou mayest wish, that Thou wilt do: whilst life remains in my nostrils, I shall not be hopeless of [thy protection']. Impressed with these thoughts, she fell asleep. When the morn appeared, the eyes of the princess opened; she called for water to perform her ablutions. Then, all at once, the occurrences of last night came to her recollection; she said to herself, 'Where art thou, and where this speech?' [222] Saying this to herself, she got up, and performed the _tayammum_, [223] said her prayers, and poured forth the praises of her Maker! O youth, the heart is torn with anguish to reflect on the princess's sad condition at that time. Ask that innocent and inexperienced heart what it felt. "In short, she sat in the litter, and putting her trust in God, she repeated to herself at that moment these verses:-- "When I had no teeth, then thou gavest milk; When thou hast given teeth, wilt thou not grant food! He who takes care of the fowls of the air, And of all the animals of the earth, He will also take care of thee. Why art thou sad, simple-minded one! By being sorrowful thou'lt get nothing; He who provides for the fool, for the wise, and for the whole world, Will likewise provide for thee.' "It is true, that when no resource remains, then God is remembered, or else every one in his own plans, thinks himself a _Lukman_, and a _Bu' Ali Sina_. [224] Now listen to the surprising ways of God. In this manner three days clear passed away, during which a grain of food did not enter the princess's mouth; her flower-like frame became quite withered as a [dry] thorn; and her colour, which hitherto shone like gold, became yellow as turmeric; her mouth became rigid, and her eyes were petrified, but still a faint respiration remained passing and re-passing. Whilst there is life, there is hope. In the morning of the fourth day, a hermit appeared of bright countenance, in appearance like _Khizr_, [225] and of an enlightened heart. Seeing the princess in that state, he said, 'O daughter, though your father is a king, yet these [sorrows] were decreed in thy destiny. Now, conceive this old hermit your servant, and think day and night of your Maker. God will do what is right.' And whatever morsels the hermit had in his wallet, he laid them before the princess; then he went in search of water; he saw a well, but where were the wheel and bucket by means of which he might draw the water? He pulled off some leaves from a tree, and made a cup, and taking off his sash, he fastened the cup to it, and drew up some water, and gave it to the princess. At last she regained her senses. The holy man, seeing her helpless and solitary state, gave her every consolation, and cheered her heart; and he himself began to weep. When the princess saw his sympathetic grief, and [heard] his kind assurances, she became easy in her mind. From that day, the old man made this an established rule, that in the morning he went to the city to beg, and brought to the princess whatever scraps or morsels he received. "In this way a few days passed. One day the princess designed to put some oil in her hair, and comb it; just as she opened the plaits of her hair a pearl round and brilliant dropped out. The princess gave it to the hermit, and desired him to sell it in the city, and bring her the amount. He sold that pearl, and brought back the money received for it to the princess. Then the princess desired that a habitation fit for her residence might be erected on that spot. The hermit replied, 'O daughter, do you dig the foundation for the walls, and collect some earth; I will, some of these days, bring some water, knead the clay [for the bricks], and erect a room for you.' The princess, on his advice, began to dig the ground; when she had dug a yard in depth, behold, under the soil a door appeared. The princess cleared away the earth [which lay before it]; a large room filled with jewels and gold pieces appeared: she took four or five handfuls of gold and closed the door, and having filled up the place with earth, made level its surface. In the meantime the hermit returned. The princess said to him, "bring good masons and builders, and workmen of every kind, expert and masters in their craft, so that a grand palace may be erected on this spot equal to the palace of _Kasra_, [226] and superior to the palace of _Ni'man_; [227] and that the fortifications of the city, a fort, a garden, a well, and an unrivalled caravanserai [be built as soon as possible]; but first of all, draw out the plans on paper and bring them to me for approval." "The hermit brought clever, skilful, intelligent workmen, and had them ready. The erection of the different buildings was soon begun according to the princess's directions, and clever and trusty servants for every office were chosen and entertained. The news of the erection of such princely buildings by degrees reached the king, the shadow of Omnipotence, who was the princess's father. On hearing it, he became greatly surprised, and asked every one, 'Who is this person who has begun to erect such edifices?' No one knew anything of the matter to be able to give a reply. All put their hands on their ears and said, 'No one of your slaves knows who is the builder of them.' Then the king sent one of his nobles with this message, 'I wish to come and see those buildings, and to know also of what country you are the princess, and of what family; for I wish much to ascertain all these circumstances.' "When the princess received this agreeable intelligence, she was greatly pleased in her mind, and wrote the [following letter]: 'To the protector of the world, prosperity! On hearing the intelligence of your majesty's visit, to my humble mansion, I am infinitely rejoiced; and it has been the cause of respect and dignity to me, the meanest [of your slaves]. How happy is the fate of that place where your majesty's footsteps are impressed, and on the inhabitants of which the shadow of the skirt of your prosperity is cast; may they both be dignified with the look of favour! This slave hopes that to-morrow, being Thursday, is a propitious day, and to me, it is more welcome than the day of _Nau Roz_, [228] your majesty's person resembles the sun; by condescending to come here, be pleased to bestow, with your light, value and dignity on this worthless atom, and partake of whatever his humble slave can provide; this will be the essence of benevolence and courtesy, on the part of your majesty: to say more would exceed the bounds of respect.' To the nobleman who brought the message she made some presents, and dismissed him [with the above reply.] "The king read the letter, and sent word, saying, 'We have accepted your invitation, and will certainly come.' The princess ordered the servants and all the attendants to get ready the necessary preparations for an entertainment, with such propriety and elegance, that the king, on seeing [the banquet] and eating thereof, might be highly pleased; and that all who came with the king, great and little, should be well entertained and return content. From the princess's strict directions, the dishes, of every kind, both salt and sweet, were so deliciously prepared, that if the daughter of a _Brahman_ [229] had tasted them, she would have become a _Musalman_. [230] When the evening came, the king went to the princess's palace, seated on an uncovered throne; the princess, with her ladies in waiting, advanced to receive him; when she cast her eyes on the king's throne, she made the royal obeisance with such proper respect, that on seeing it, the king was still more surprised; with the same profound respect she accompanied the king to the throne, set with jewels, which she had erected for him. The princess had prepared a platform of 125,000 pieces of silver; [231] a hundred and one trays of jewels and of gold pieces, and woollen shiffs, shawls, muslins, silk and brocades; two elephants and ten horses, of _'Irak_ and _Yaman_, with caparisons set with precious stones, were likewise prepared [for the royal acceptance]. She presented these to his majesty, and stood before him herself with folded arms. The king asked with great complacency, 'Of what country are you a princess, and for what reasons are you come here?' "The princess, after making her obeisance, replied, 'This slave is that offender who in consequence of the royal anger was sent to this wilderness, and all these things which your majesty sees are the wonderful works of God.' On hearing these words, the king's blood glowed (with paternal warmth), and rising up, he pressed the princess fondly to his bosom, and seizing her hand, he ordered her to be seated on a chair that he had placed near the throne; but still the king was astonished and surprised [at all he saw], and ordered that the queen, along with the princesses, should come thither with all speed. When they arrived, the mother and sisters recognised [the princess], and, embracing her with fondness, wept over her, and praised God. The princess presented her mother and sisters with such heaps of gold and jewels, that the treasures of the world could not equal them in the balance. Then the king, having made them all sit in his company, partook of the feast [which had been prepared]. "As long as the king lived, the time passed in this manner; sometimes the king came [to visit the princess], and sometimes carried the princess with him to his own palaces. When the king died, the government of the kingdom descended to this princess; for, except herself, no other person [of her family] was fit for this office. O, youth, the history [of the princess] is what you have heard. Finally, heaven-bestowed wealth never fails, but the intentions of the possessor must [at the same time] be just; moreover, how much soever is spent [out of this providential wealth] so much also is the increase: to be astonished at the power of God, is not right in any religion." The female servant, after finishing this narrative, said, "Now if you still intend to proceed to the country of _Nimroz_, and if you are determined in your mind to bring the requisite intelligence, then depart soon." I replied, I am going this moment, and if God pleases I shall be back very soon. At last, taking leave [of the princess] and relying on the protection of God, I set out for that quarter. In about a year's time, after encountering many difficulties, I arrived at the city of _Nimroz_. All the inhabitants of that place that I saw, noble or common, were dressed in black, and whatever I had heard, that I fully perceived. After some days the evening [232] of the new moon occurred. On the first day of the month, all the inhabitants of the city, little and great, children, nobles, prince, women and men, assembled on a large plain. I also, bewildered and distracted in my condition, went along with the vast concourse; separated from my country and possessions, in the garb of a pilgrim, I was standing to behold the strange sight, and to see what might result from the mysterious scene. In the meantime, a young man advanced from the woods, mounted on a bull, foaming at the mouth, and roaring and shouting [in a frightful manner]. I, miserable, who had undergone such labour, and overcome so many dangers, and had come there to ascertain the circumstances, yet on seeing the young man I was quite confounded and stood silent with astonishment. The young man, according to his usual custom, did what he used to do, and returned [to the woods]; and the concourse of people from the city likewise returned thither. When I had collected my senses, I then repented [saying to myself], "What is this you have done? Now it is your lot to wait anxiously for another whole month." Having no remedy, I returned with the rest; and I passed that month like the month of _Ramazan_, [233] counting one day after another. At last the new moon appeared, and was hailed by me as _'Id_. [234] On the first of the month, the king and the inhabitants again assembled on that same plain; then I determined, that this time, let what will happen, I would be resolute, and propound this mysterious circumstance. Suddenly the young man appeared, mounted, according to custom, on a yellow bull, and, dismounting, sat down [on the ground]; in one hand he held a naked sword, and in the other the bull's halter; he gave the vase to his attendant, who, as usual, showed it to every one, and carried it back [to his master]. The crowd, on seeing the vase, began to weep; the young man broke the vase, and struck such a blow on the slave's neck as to sever his head from his body, and, he himself remounting the bull, returned [towards the woods]. I began to run after him, with all speed, but the inhabitants laid hold of my hand, and exclaimed, "What is this you are going to do? why, knowingly, art thou about to perish? If thou art so tired of life, there are a great many ways of dying, by which thou mayest end thy existence." How much soever I beseeched them [to let me go], and even had recourse to main force, in order that by some means I might escape from their hands, yet I could not release myself. Three or four men clung fast to me, and having seized me, led me towards the city. I again suffered for another whole month in a strange state of disquietude. When that month passed also, and the last day of it had elapsed, all the inhabitants assembled on the plain on the following morning in the same manner. I, apart from all, arose at the hour of [morning] prayer. I went before all the others [were astir] into the woods, and there lay concealed, exactly on the road by which the young man was to pass; for no one could there restrain me [from executing my project]. The young man came in the usual manner, performed the same acts [already described], re-mounted, and was returning. I followed him, and eagerly running up, I joined him. The young man, from the noise of my steps, perceived that some body was coming after him. All at once, turning round the halter of his bull, he gave a loud shout, and threatened me; then drawing his sword, he advanced towards me, and was about to strike. I bent down with the utmost respect, and made him my _salam_, and joining both my hands together, I stood in silence. That person being a judge of respectful behaviour [restraining his blow], said to me. "O pilgrim, thou wouldest have been killed for nothing, but thou hast escaped--thy life is prolonged; get away. Where art thou going?" He then drew a jewelled dagger, having a tassel set with pearls, from his waist, and threw it towards me, and added, "At this moment I have no money about me to give thee; carry this [dagger] to the king, and thou wilt get whatever thou askest." To such a degree did my fear and dread of him prevail, that I had not power to speak or ability to move; my voice was choked, and my feet became heavy. After saying this, the brave young man, roaring aloud, went on. I said to myself, "let what will happen, to remain behind now is, in thy case, folly thou wilt never again get such an opportunity [to execute thy project]. Regardless, therefore, of my life, [235] I also went on. He again turned round and forbade me in great wrath [to follow him], and seemed determined to put me to death. I stretched forth my neck, and conjuring him [by all that was sacred], I said, "_O Rustam_ [236] of these days, strike such a blow that I may be cut clean in two; let not a fibre remain together, and let me be released from this wandering and wretched state; I pardon you my blood." He replied, "O demon-faced! why dost thou for nothing bring thy blood on my head, and makest me criminal; go thy own way; what! is thy life become a burden to thee?" I did not mind what he said, but advanced; then he knowingly appeared not to regard me, and I followed him. Proceeding on about two _kos_, we passed the wood, and came to a square building; the young man went up to the door and gave a frightful scream; the door opened of itself; he entered, and I remained altogether outside. O God, [said I] what shall I now do? I was perplexed; at last, after a short delay, a slave came out and brought a message, saying, "Come in, he has called you to his presence; perhaps the angel of death hovers over your head; what evil fortune has befallen you?" I replied, "Verily it is good fortune;" and without fear, I entered along with him into the garden. At last, he led me to a place where [the young man was sitting]; on seeing him, I made him a very low [237] _salam_; he beckoned me to sit down; I sat down with respect. What do I see but the young man sitting alone on a _masnad_, with the tools of a goldsmith lying before him; and he had just finished a branch of emeralds. When the time came for him to rise up, all the slaves that were around the place concealed themselves in [different] rooms; I also from fear hid myself in a small closet. The young man rose up, and having fastened the chains of all the apartments, he went towards the corner of the garden, and began to beat the bull he usually rode. The noise of the animal's roaring reached my ear, and my heart quaked [with fear]; but as I had ran all these risks to develop this mystery, I forced the door, though trembling with fear, and under the screen of the trunk [238] of a tree, I stood and saw [what was going on]. The young man threw down the club with which he was beating [the bull], and unlocked a room and entered it. Then, instantly coming out, he stroked the bull's back with his hand, and kissed its mouth; and having given it some grain and grass, he came towards me. On perceiving this, I ran off quickly, and hid myself in the room. The young man unfastened the chains of all the rooms, and the whole of the slaves came out, bringing with them a small carpet, a wash-hand basin, and a water pot. After washing his hands and face, he stood up to pray; when he had finished his prayers, he called out, "Where is the pilgrim?" On hearing myself called, I ran out and stood before him; he desired me to sit down; after making him a _salam_, I sat down; the dinner was served; he partook of it, and gave me some, which I also ate. When the dishes were removed, and we had washed our hands, he dismissed his slaves and told them to go to rest. When no one [except ourselves] remained in the apartment, he then spoke to me, and asked, "O friend, what great misfortune has befallen thee that thou goest about seeking thy death?" I related in full detail all the adventures of my life, from beginning to end, and added, that, "from your goodness, I have hopes of obtaining my wishes." On hearing this, he heaving a deep sigh, went raving mad, and began to say, "O God! who except thee is acquainted with the tortures of love! He whose chilblain has not yet broken out, how can he know the pains of others? he only knows the degree of this pain who has felt the pangs of love! 'The anguish of love, you must ask of the lover, Not of him who feigns, but of the true lover.'" A moment after, coming to himself, he heaved a heart-burning sigh; the room resounded with it; then I perceived that he was likewise tortured with the pangs of love, and was suffering from the same malady [as myself]. On this discovery, I plucked up courage and said, "I have related to you all my own adventures; now do me the favour to impart to me the past events [of your life]; I will then first of all assist you as far as I can, and by exerting myself obtain for you the desires of your heart." In short, that true lover, conceiving me his companion and fellow-sufferer, began the relation of his adventures in the following manner. "Hear, O friend! I whose heart is tortured with anguish, am the prince of this country of _Nimroz_; the king, that is to say, my father, at my birth, collected together all the fortune tellers, astrologers and learned men, and ordered them to cast and examine my horoscope, to fix my nativity, and to state in full to his majesty whatever was to befall me every individual moment, and hour, and _pahar_, and day, and month, and year, [of my life]. They all assembled according to the king's order, and consulting together, they, from their mystical science, ascertained my future fate, and said, 'By the blessing of God, the prince has been begotten and born under such a propitious planet, and in such a lucky moment, that he ought to be equal to Alexander in extent of dominion, and in justice equal to _Naushirwan_. He will be, moreover, proficient in every science, and every [branch of] learning, and towards whatever subject his heart is inclined, he will accomplish it with perfection. He will in generosity and bravery acquire such renown, that mankind will no longer remember _Hatim_ and _Rustam_; but until [he attains] the age of fourteen, he is exposed to great danger if he sees the sun or moon; yea, it is to be feared he may become a mad demoniac, and shed the blood of many; and restless [of living in society], he will fly to the woods, and associate with beasts and birds; great and strict pains must be taken that he should never behold the sun by day or the moon by night, or cast a look even towards the heavens. If this period [of fourteen years] pass away without danger and in safety, then for the rest of his life he will reign in peace and prosperity.' "On hearing this [prognostication], the king ordered this garden to be laid out, and caused to be built in it many apartments of various kinds. He gave an order for me to be brought up in a vault, lined [on the inside] with felt, so that not a single ray of light from the sun or moon might penetrate [into my apartment]. I had a wet nurse and all other kinds of female servants and attendants attached to me, and was brought up in this grand palace with this [imagined] security. A learned tutor, who was skilled in public affairs, was appointed to [superintend] my education; so that I might acquire every science and art, and the practice of the seven varieties of penmanship; and my father always looked after me; the occurrences of every day and every moment were told to the king. I considered that same place as the whole world, and amused myself with toys and flowers; and I had procured for me every delicacy the world [could produce] for my food; whatever I desired I had. By the age of ten years, I had acquired every species of learning, and every useful accomplishment. "One day, beneath that dome, an astonishing flower appeared from the sky-light, which increased in size as I gazed upon it; I wished to seize it with my hands, but as I stretched them towards it, it ascended [and eluded my grasp]. I, having become astonished, was looking steadfastly at it, when the sound of a loud laugh reached my ear; I raised my head to look [towards the dome from which the noise proceeded]. Then I saw that a face, resplendent as the full moon, having rent the felt, continued issuing forth. On beholding it, my reason and senses vanished. On coming to myself, I looked up, and saw a throne of jewels raised on the shoulders of fairies; a person was seated on it, with a crown of precious stones on her head, and clothed in a superb dress; she held in her hand a cup made of ruby, and seated, was drinking wine. The throne descended by slow degrees from its height, and rested on [the floor of] the dome. Then the fairy called me, and placed me beside her [on the throne]; she began to make use of expressions of endearment, and having pressed her lips to mine, she made me drink a cup of rosy wine, and said, 'The human race is faithless, but my heart loves thee.' The expressions she uttered were so endearing and so fascinating, that in a moment my heart was enraptured, and I felt such pleasure as if I had tasted the supreme joys of life, and thus I conceived that I had only on that day entered the world [of enjoyment]. "The result is my present state! but no one [on earth] hath ever seen, or heard such ecstatic pleasure! In that zest, with our hearts at ease, we both were seated, when all at once our joys were dashed to pieces! Now listen to the unlooked-for circumstance [which produced this sudden change]. At the moment, four fairies descended from the heavens, and whispered something in that beloved one's ear. On hearing it, her colour changed, and she said to me, 'O my beloved, I fondly wished to pass some moments with you, and regale my heart, and to repeat my visits in the same manner, or to take thee with me. But fate will not permit two persons [like us] to remain in one place in peace and felicity; farewell, my beloved! may God protect you!' On hearing these [dreadful words], my senses vanished, and my bliss fled from my grasp. [239] I cried, 'O my charmer, when shall we meet again? what dreadful words of wrath are these which you have made me hear? If you will return quickly, then you will find me alive, otherwise you will regret the delay; or else tell me your name and place of residence, that I may from those directions, by diligent search, conduct myself to you.' On hearing this she said, 'God forbid [you should do so]; may the ears of Satan be deaf; may your age amount to a hundred and twenty years; [240] if we live we shall meet again; I am the daughter of the king of the _Jinns_, and I dwell in the mountain of _Kaf_. [241] On saying this, she caused the throne to ascend, [242] and it ascended in the same manner as it had descended. "Whilst the throne was in sight, our eyes were fixed on each other; when it disappeared from my eyes, my state became such as if the shadow of a fairy had fallen on me; a strange sort of gloom was spread over my heart, and my understanding and consciousness left me; the world appeared dark under my eyes; distracted and confused, I wept bitterly, and scattered dust over my head, and tore my clothes; I became regardless of food and drink, nor cared for good or evil. 'What various evils result from this same love! In the heart are produced sadness and impatience.' [243] "My misfortune was soon known to my nurse and preceptor; with fear and trembling they went before the king, and said, 'Such is the state of the prince of the people of the world; we do not know how this disaster has suddenly and of itself fallen upon him, so that rest, food, and drink have all [on his part] been abandoned.' [On hearing these sad tidings] the king immediately came to the garden [where I resided], accompanied by the _wazir_, intelligent nobles, wise physicians, true astrologers, learned _mullas_, holy devotees, and men abstracted from worldly affairs. On seeing my distracted, sighing, weeping condition, his mind became also distracted; he wept, and with fond affection clasped me to his breast, and gave orders for my proper treatment. The physicians wrote out their prescriptions, in order to strengthen my heart and cure my brain, and the holy priests wrote out charms [244] and amulets, some to be swallowed, and others to be worn on my person, and having each repeated prayers [of exorcism], they began to blow upon me; the astrologers said this misfortune had happened owing to the revolution of the stars [for the averting] of it, give pious donations. In short, every one advised according to his science; but what was passing within me, my heart alone experienced; no one's assistance or remedy was of avail to my evil destiny; day after day my lunacy increased, and my body became emaciated from the want of nourishment. There remained for me only to shriek and moan, day and night. Three years passed away in this state. In the fourth year, a merchant, who was on his travels, arrived, and brought with him into the royal presence rare and valuable articles of different countries; he met with a gracious reception. "The king favoured him greatly, and after inquiries respecting his health, he said to him, 'You have seen many countries; have you anywhere seen a truly learned physician, or have heard of such from any one?' The merchant replied, 'Mighty sire, this slave has travelled a great deal; in the middle of the [Ganges] river in _Hindustan_ there is a small mountain; there a _Jata-dhari Gusa,in_ [245] has built a large temple to _Mahadev_, [246] together with a place of worship, and a garden of great beauty, and in that [mountain-island] he lives; and his custom is this, that once a year on the day of _Shevrat_, [247] he comes out of his dwelling, swims in the river, and enjoys himself. After washing himself, when he is returning to his abode, then the sick and afflicted of various countries and regions, who come there from afar, assemble near his door. Of these a numerous crowd is formed. "'The holy _Gusa,in_ (who ought to be called the Plato [248] of these days), moves along examining the urine, and feeling the pulse of each, and giving each a recipe. God has given him such healing power, that, on taking his medicines, their effects are instantaneous, and the disease utterly vanishes. These circumstances I have seen with my own eyes, and adored the power of God which has created such beings! If your majesty orders it, I will conduct the prince of the people of the world to that [wonderful man], and show the prince to him; I firmly hope he will soon be completely cured; moreover, this scheme is externally beneficial, for from inhaling the air of various places, and from the diet and drink of different countries [through which we shall pass], the prince's mind will be restored to cheerfulness.' The merchant's advice seemed very proper to the king, and being pleased, he said, 'Very well; perhaps the holy man's treatment may prove efficacious, and this melancholy may be removed from my son's mind.' The king appointed a confidential nobleman, who had seen the world, and had been tried on [various] occasions, together with the merchant, to attend me, and he furnished us with the requisite equipment. Having seen us embark on boats of every variety, together with our baggage, he dismissed us. Proceeding onwards, stage after stage, we arrived at the place [where the holy _Gusa,in_ lived]. From change of air, and from living on a different diet, my mind became somewhat composed; but there still remained the same state of silence; and I wept incessantly. The recollection of the lovely fairy was not for a moment effaced from my mind; if I spoke sometimes, it was only to repeat these lines:-- 'I know not what fairy-faced one has glanced over me, But my heart was sound and tranquil not long ago.' At last, when two or three months had passed away, nearly four thousand sick had assembled on the rock, and all said, 'If God please, the _Gusa,in_ will shortly come out of his abode, and bestow on us his advice, and we shall be perfectly cured.' In short, when that day arrived, the _Gusa,in_ appeared in the morning, like the sun, and bathed and swam in the river; he crossed over it and returned, and rubbed ashes of cow-dung over his body, and hid his fair form like a live coal under the ashes. He made a mark with sandal wood on his forehead, girded on his _langoti_, [249] threw a towel over his shoulders, tied his long hair up in a knot, twisted his mustachios, and put on his shoes. It appeared, from his looks, that the whole world possessed no value to him. Having put a small writing desk set with gems under his arm, and looking at each [patient] in turn, he gave them his recipes, and came to me. When our looks met, he stood still, paused for a moment, and then said to me, 'Come with me.' I went along with him. "When he had done with all the rest, he led me into the garden, and into a neat and richly-ornamented private apartment, and he said to me, 'Do you make your residence here,' and went himself to his abode. When forty days had elapsed, he came to me, and found me better comparatively with [what I had been] before. He then, smiling, said, 'Amuse yourself by walking about in this garden, and eat whatever fruits you like.' He gave me a china pot filled with _ma'jun_, [250] and added, 'Take without fail six _mashas_ [251] from this pot every morning, fasting.' Saying this, he went away, and I followed strictly his prescription. My body perceptibly gained strength daily, and my mind composure, but mighty love was still triumphant; that fairy's form ever wandered before my eyes. "One day I perceived a book [252] in a recess in the wall; I took it down, and saw that all the sciences relating to the future and the present world were comprised in it, as if the ocean had been compressed into a vase. I used to read it at all times; I acquired great skill in the science of physic, and the mystical art of philters. A year passed away in the meantime, and again that same day of joy returned; the _Gusa,in_, having arisen from his devotional posture, came out [of his abode]; I made him my _salam_; he gave me the writing case, and said, 'Accompany me.' I [accordingly] went along with him. When he came out of the gate a vast crowd showered blessings on him. The nobleman and the merchant, seeing me with the _Gusa,in_, fell at his feet, and began to pour forth their blessings on him, saying, "by the favour of your holiness, this much at least has been effected." The _Gusa,in_ went to the _ghat_ of the river, according to custom, and performed his ablutions and devotions, as he was wont to do every year; returning [from thence], he was proceeding along the line and examining the sick. "It happened, that in the group of lunatics, a handsome young man, who had scarce strength to stand up, attracted the _Gusa,in's_ attention. He said to me, 'Bring him with you.' After delivering his prescriptions of cure to all, he went into his private apartment and opened a little of the young lunatic's skull; he attempted to seize with his forceps the centipede which was curled on his brain. An idea struck me, and I spoke out, saying, 'If you will heat the forceps in the fire, and then apply it to the centipede's back, it will be better, as it will then come out of its own accord; but if you thus attempt to pull it off, it will not quit its grasp on the brain, and [the patient's] life will be endangered.' [253] On hearing this, the _Gusa,in_ looked towards me; silently he rose up, and, without saying a word, he went to the corner of the garden, and seizing a tree in his grasp, he formed his long hair into a noose, and hanged himself. I went to the spot, and saw, alas! alas! that he was dead. I became quite afflicted at the strange and astonishing sight; but being helpless, I thought it best to bury him. The moment I began to take him down from the tree, two keys dropt from his locks; I took them up, and interred that treasure of excellence in the earth. Having taken with me the two keys, I began to apply them to all the locks. By chance I opened the locks of two rooms with these keys, and perceived that they were filled from the floor to the roof with precious stones; in one place I saw a chest covered with velvet, with clasps of gold, and locked. When I opened it, then I saw in it a book, in which was written the "Most awful of Names," [254] and the mode of invoking the genii, and the fairies, and the holding of intercourse with spirits, and how to subdue them, also the mode of charming the sun. "I became quite delighted at the idea of having acquired such a treasure, and began to put those [charms] in practice. I opened the garden door, and said to the nobleman, and to those who had come with me, 'Send for the vessels [which had brought us, and embark in them all these jewels, specie, merchandise, and books,' and having embarked myself in a small vessel, I proceeded from thence to the main ocean. When sailing along, I approached my own country. The intelligence reached my father. He mounted his horse, and advanced to meet us; with anxious affection he clasped me to his bosom; I kissed his feet, and said, 'May this humble being be allowed to live in the former garden?' "The king replied, 'O my son, that garden appears to me calamitous, and I have therefore forbidden its being kept up; that spot is not at present fit for the abode of man; reside in any other abode which your heart may desire. You had best choose some place in the fort, and live under my eyes; and having there formed such a garden as you wish, continue to walk about and to amuse yourself.' I strenuously resisted and caused the former garden to be repaired once more, and having embellished it like a perfect paradise, I went to reside in it. There, at my ease, I fasted forty days for the purpose of subduing the _jinns_ to my will; and having abandoned living creatures, I began to practise [my spells] on the world of spirits. "When the forty days were completed, such a terrible storm arose at midnight, that the very strongest buildings fell down, and trees were uprooted and scattered in all directions; an army of fairies appeared. A throne descended from the air, on which a person of dignified appearance was seated, richly dressed, with a crown of pearls on his head. On seeing him, I saluted him with great respect; he returned my salutation, and said, 'O friend, why hast thou raised this commotion for nothing? what dost thou want with me?' I replied, 'This wretch has been long in love with your daughter, and for her I have every where wandered about wretched, distracted, and am dead, though alive; I am now sick of existence, and have staked my life on this deed which I have done. All my hopes now rest on your benevolence, that you will exalt this unfortunate wanderer with your favour, and that you will bestow on me life and happiness, by allowing me to behold [your fair daughter]; it will be an act of great merit.' [255] "On hearing my wishes he said, 'Man is made of earth, and we are formed of fire; connection between two such [classes] is very difficult.' I swore an oath, saying, 'I only desire to see her, and have no other purpose.' Again the king [of the fairies] replied, 'Man does not adhere to his promises; in time of need he promises everything, but he does not keep it in recollection. I say this for thy good; for if ever thou formest other wishes, then she and thou wilt be ruined and undone; moreover, it will endanger your lives.' I repeated my oaths, and added, that whatever could injure both of us, I would never do, and that all I desired was to see her sometimes. These words were passing [between us], when suddenly, the fairy (of whom we were talking) appeared before us, with much splendour, and completely adorned; and the throne of the king [of the fairies] remounted thence. I then embraced the fairy with fond eagerness, and repeated this verse:-- 'Why should not she of the arched eyebrows come [to my house], She for whose sake I have fasted for forty days.' In that state of felicity we resided together in the garden. I dreaded through fear to think of other joys; I only tasted the superficial pleasure [of her roseate lips], and constantly gazed upon her charms. The lovely fairy, seeing me so true to my oath, was surprised within herself, and used sometimes to say, 'O my beloved, you are indeed strictly faithful to your promise; but I will give you, by the way of friendship, a piece of advice; take care of your mystical book; for the _jinns_, seeing you off your guard, will purloin it some day or other.' I replied, 'I guard this book as I would my life.' "It so happened, that one night Satan led me astray; in a fit of overpowering passion, I said to myself, 'Let happen what will, how long can I restrain myself?' I clasped the [lovely fairy] to my bosom, and attempted to revel in ecstatic joys. Instantly, a voice came forth, saying, 'Give me the book, for the great name of God is written in it; do not profane it.' In that fervour of passion, I was insensible [to every other consideration]; I took the book from my bosom and delivered it, without knowing to whom I gave it, and plunged myself into the fervid joys of love. The beautiful fairy, seeing my foolish conduct, said, 'Alas! selfish man, thou hast at last transgressed, and forgotten my admonition.' "On saying this, she became senseless, and I perceived a _jinn_ standing at the head of the bed, who held the magical book in his hand; I attempted to seize him, and beat him severely, and snatch away the book, when in the meantime another appeared, took the book from his hand, and ran off. I began to repeat the incantations I had learnt. The _jinn_, who was still standing near me, became a bull; but, alas! the lovely fairy had not in the least recovered her senses, and that same state of stupor continued. Then my mind became distracted, and all my joys were turned into bitterness. From that day, man became my aversion. I live in a corner of this garden; and for the sake of agreeably occupying my mind, I made this emerald vase, ornamented with flowers, and every month I go to the plain, mounted on that same bull, break the vase, and kill a slave, with the hope that every one may see my sad state and pity me; perhaps some creature of God may so far favour me and pray for me, that I even may regain the desire [of my heart]. O faithful friend, such as I have related to thee is the sad tale of my madness and lunacy." I wept at hearing it, and said, "O prince, you have truly suffered greatly from love; but I swear here by God, that I will abandon my own wishes, and will now roam among woods and mountains for your good, and do all I can [to find out your beloved fairy]. Having made this promise, I took leave of the prince, and for five years wandered through the desert, sifting the dust, like a mad man, but found no trace [of the fairy]. At last, desponding of success, I ascended a mountain, and wished to throw myself down [from its summit], so that neither bone nor rib [in my frame] might remain entire. The same veiled horseman, [who saved you from destruction], came up to me and said, "Do not throw away thy life; in a few days thou wilt be in possession of the desires of thy heart." O holy _Darweshes_! I have at last seen you. I have now hopes that joy and happiness will be our lot, and all of us, now affected as we are, may attain our wished-for objects. TALE OF AZAD BAKHT. When the second _Darwesh_ had likewise finished telling the relation of his adventures, the night ended, and the time of morning was just beginning. The king, _Azad Bakht_, silently proceeded towards his own kingly abode. On arriving at his palace, he said his prayers. Then, having gone to the bathing-house, and dressed himself superbly, he proceeded to the _Diwani 'Amm_ and mounted his throne; and he issued an order, saying, "Let a messenger go and bring along with him, with respect, to our presence, four _Darweshes_ who have [recently] arrived at such a place." The messenger went there according to orders, and perceived that the four _Darweshes_, after performing the necessary calls, and washed their hands and faces, were on the point of setting out on [their peregrinations], and take their different roads. The messenger said to them, "Reverend sirs, the king has called you four personages; come along with me." The four _Darweshes_ began to stare at each other, and said to the messenger, "Son, we are the monarchs of our own hearts; what have we to do with a king of this world?" The messenger answered, "Holy sirs, there is no harm in it, and it is better you should go." The four _Darweshes_ then recollected that what _Maula Murtaza_ [256] had said to them, that same had now come to pass; they were pleased at the recollection], and went along with the messenger. When they reached the fort and went before the king, the four _Kalandars_ gave a benediction, saying, "Son, may it be well with thee." The king then retired to the _Diwani khass_, and having called two or three of his confidential nobles near him, he ordered the four _Darweshes_ to be brought in. When they went there [before his majesty], he commanded them to sit down, and asked them their adventures, saying, "From whence come you, where do you intend to go, and where is the residence of your worships?" "They replied, "May the king's age and wealth be always on the increase! we are _Darweshes_, and have in this very manner for a long while wandered and roamed about; we bear our homes on our shoulders. There is a saying, that 'a pilgrim's home is where the evening overtakes him;' and all we have seen in this versatile world is too long a tale to relate." _Azad Bakht_ gave them every confidence and encouragement, and having sent for refreshment, he made them breakfast before him. When they finished [their meal] the king said to them, "Relate all your adventures to me, without the least reserve; whatever services I can render you, I will not fail to do." The _Darweshes_ replied that, "whatever has happened to us, we have not the strength to relate, nor will any pleasure result to the king from hearing it; therefore pardon us." The king then smiled, and said, "Where you were sitting on your couches last night and relating each his own adventures, there I was likewise present; moreover, I have heard the adventures of two of you; I now wish that the two who remain would also relate theirs; and stay with me a few days in perfect confidence, for 'the footsteps of the _Darwesh_ scare away evil.'" [257] On hearing these words from the king, they began to tremble in consequence of their fear; and having hung down their heads, they remained silent--they had not the power to speak. When _Azad Bakht_ perceived that now through fear their senses no longer remained with them, so as to enable them to tell anything, he said [to revive their spirits] "There is no person in this world to whom rare and strange incidents have not occurred; although I am a king, yet I have even seen strange scenes, which I will first of all relate to you [to inspire you with confidence and remove your fears]; do you listen to it with your minds at ease," The _Darweshes_ replied, "O king, peace be on thee! such are your kindnesses towards us darweshes, condescend to relate them." _Azad Bakht_ began his adventures, and said, "Hear, O pilgrims, the adventures of the king. Whatever I have heard or seen, O hear! I will relate to ye every thing, from end to end. My story with heartfelt attention hear." When my father died, and I ascended the throne, it was in the very season of youth, and all this kingdom of _Rum_ was under my dominion. It happened one year, that some merchant from the country of _Badakhshan_ [258] came [to my capital] and brought a good deal of merchandise. The reporters of intelligence [259] sent notice to me to this effect, that so considerable a merchant had never visited our city before: I sent for him. "He came, and brought with him the rarities of every country, which were worthy of being offered to me, as presents. Indeed, every article appeared to be of inestimable value; above all, there was a ruby in a box, of an exceedingly fine colour, very brilliant, perfect in shape and size, and in weight [amounting to] five _miskals_. [260] Though I was a king, I had never seen such a precious stone, nor had I heard of such from any other person. I accepted it, and bestowed upon the merchant many presents and honours; I gave him passports for the roads, that throughout my empire no one should ask him any duties; that they should treat him with kindness wherever he went; that he should be waited on, and have guards for his protection, and that they should consider any loss he might experience as their own. The merchant attended at the time of audience, and was well versed in the forms of respect due to royalty; his conversation and eloquence were worth hearing. I used to send for the ruby daily from the jewel office, and look at it at the time of public audience. One day I was seated in the _diwani 'amm,_ and the nobles and officers of state were in waiting in their respective places, and the ambassadors of different sovereigns, who had come to congratulate me [on my accession to the throne], were likewise present. I then sent for the ruby, according to custom; the officer of the jewel office brought it; I took it in my hand and began to praise it, and gave it to the ambassador of the Franks [to look at it]. On seeing it, he smiled, and praised it by way of flattery; in the same manner it passed from hand to hand, and every one looked at it, and all said together, "The preponderance of your majesty's good fortune has procured you this; for otherwise, even unto this day, no monarch has ever acquired so inestimable a jewel." At that moment my father's _wazir_, who was wise, and held the same station under me, and was standing in his place, made his obeisance and said, "I wish to impart something [to the royal ear], if my life be granted." I ordered him to speak; he said, "Mighty sire, you are king, and it is very unbecoming in kings to laud so highly a stone; though it is unique in colour, in quality, and in weight, yet it is but a stone; and at this moment the ambassadors of all countries are present in the court; when they return to their respective countries, they will assuredly relate this anecdote, saying, 'What a strange king he is, who has got a ruby from somewhere, and makes such a rarity of it, that he sends for it every day, and praising it himself the first, shows it to every one present.' Then whatever king or _raja_ [261] hears this anecdote, the same will certainly laugh at it in his own court. Great sire, there is an insignificant merchant in _Naishapur_, [262] who has twelve rubies, each weighing seven _miskals_, [263] which he has sewed on a collar, and put it round his dog's neck." On hearing this, I became greatly displeased, and said with anger, put this _wazir_ to death. The executioners immediately seized hold of his hands, and were going to lead him out [to execution]. The ambassador of the king of the Franks, joining his hands [in humble supplication] stood before me. I asked him what he wanted; he replied, "I hope I may become informed of the _wazir's_ fault," I answered, what can be a greater fault than to lie, especially before kings. He replied, "His falsehood has not yet been confirmed; perhaps what he has said may be true; now, to put an innocent person to death is not right." I said to him in reply, "It is not at all consistent with reason, that a merchant, who, for the sake of gain, wanders disconsolate from city to city and from country to country, and hoards up every farthing [he can save], should sew twelve rubies, which weigh seven _miskals_ each, on the collar of a dog." The ambassador in answer said, "Nothing is surprising before the power of God; perhaps it may be the case; such rarities often fall into the hands of merchants and pilgrims. For these two [classes of people] go into every country, and they bring away with them whatever they find rare in [their travels]. It is most advisable for your majesty to order the _wazir_ to be imprisoned, if he is as guilty [as you suppose]; for _wazirs_ are the intelligencers of kings, and such conduct as this appears unhandsome in the latter, that in a case, the truth and falsehood of which is as yet unascertained, to order them to be put to death, and that the services and fidelity of a whole life should be forgotten. "Mighty sire, former kings have erected prisons for this very reason, that when the kings or chiefs may be in wrath towards any one, then they might confine him. In a few days their anger will have entirely subsided, and [the suspected one's] innocence will become manifest, and the king will be exempt from the stain of shedding innocent blood, and not have to answer for it on the day of judgment." Though I wished ever so much to refute him, yet the ambassador of the Franks [264] gave such just replies, that he reduced me to silence. Then I said, well, I agree to what you say, and I pardon him his life. But he shall remain imprisoned; if in the space of a year his words are proved to be true, that such rubies are round the neck of a dog, then he shall be released; otherwise, he shall be put to death with many torments. I accordingly ordered the _wazir_ to be carried to prison. On hearing this order, the ambassador made me his humble obeisance, [265] and performed his parting salute. When this news reached the _wazir's_ family, weeping and lamentations took place, and it became a house of mourning. The _wazir_ had a daughter of the age of fourteen or fifteen years, very handsome and accomplished, perfect in writing and reading. The _wazir_ loved her greatly, and was extremely fond of her; so much so, that he had erected an elegant apartment for her behind his own _diwan khana;_ and had procured for her the daughters of noblemen as her companions, and handsome female servants waited on her; with these she passed her time in laughter and joy, and playing and romping about. It happened that on the day the _wazir_ was sent to prison, the girl was sitting with her young companions, and was celebrating with [infantile] pleasure the marriage of her doll; and with a small drum and timbrel she was making preparation for the night vigils; and having put on the frying pan, she was busy making up sweetmeats, when her mother suddenly ran into her apartment, lamenting and beating [her breasts], with dishevelled tresses and naked feet. She struck a blow on her daughter's head, and said, "Would that God had given me a blind son instead of thee; then my heart would have been at ease, and he would have been the friend of his father." The _wazir's_ daughter asked, "What use would a blind son have been to you? whatever he could do, I can do likewise." The mother replied, "Dust be on thy head! such a calamity hath fallen on thy father, that he is confined in the prison for having used some improper expressions before the king." The daughter asked, "What were the expressions? let me hear them." Then her mother answered, "Your father said that there is a merchant in _Nishapur_, who has fixed twelve inestimable rubies on his dog's collar: the king would not believe him, but conceived him a liar, and has imprisoned him. If he had had to-day a son, he would have exerted himself by every means to ascertain the truth of the circumstance; he would have assisted his father, besought the king's forgiveness, and have got my husband released from prison." The _wazir's_ daughter said [in reply], "O mother, we cannot combat against fate; man under sudden calamity ought to be patient, and place his hopes in the bounty of God. He is merciful, and does not hold any one's difficulties to be irremovables; weeping and lamentations are improper. God forbid that our enemies should misrepresent [the motive of our tears] to the king, and the teller of tales calumniate us, for that would be the cause of farther displeasure. On the contrary, let us offer up our prayers for the king's welfare; we are his born slaves, and he is our master; even as he is wroth, so will he be gracious." The girl, from her good sense, thus made her mother comprehend these things, so that she became somewhat patient and tranquil, and returned in silence to her palace. When the night arrived, the _wazir-zadi_ [266] sent for her foster father, [or nurse's husband], and fell at his feet and beseeched him greatly, and weeping, said, "I have formed a resolution to wipe off the reproach my mother has cast on me, so that my father may regain his freedom. If you will be my companion, then I will set out for _Niashapur_, and having seen the merchant [who has such rubies round his dog's neck], I will do all in my power [to the end that] I may release my father." The man indeed made some excuses at first; at length after much discussion, he agreed [to her request]. Then the _wazir-zadi_ said, "Make the preparations for the Journey in secrecy and silence, and buy some articles of trade fit to be presented as offerings to kings, and procure as many slaves and servants as may be required; but do not let this circumstance be revealed to any one." The foster father agreed [to the project], and set about [the necessary] preparations. When all the materials were got ready, he loaded the camels and mules, and set out; the _wazir's_ daughter also put on the dress of a man, and joined him. No one in the house knew anything whatever [of the departure]. When the morning came, it was mentioned in the _wazir's_ family, that the _wazir-zadi_, had disappeared, and that it was uncertain where she was gone. At last, the mother, from fear of scandal, concealed the circumstance of her daughter's disappearance; and there [on the journey] the _wazir-zadi_ gave herself out as a "young merchant." Travelling onwards stage by stage, they arrived at _Naishapur_; and with great pleasure they went and put up at the _caravan-serai_ and unloaded all their merchandise. The _wazir-zadi_ I remained there that night; in the morning she went to the bath; and put on a rich dress, according to the costume of the inhabitants of _Rum_, and went out to ramble through the city. Proceeding along, she reached the _chauk,_ and stood where the four great streets crossed each other; and a jeweller's shop appeared on one side, where a great deal of jewels were exposed [for sale], and slaves wearing rich dresses were in waiting, with crossed arms; and a man, who was their chief, of about fifty years [267] of age, dressed like rich persons in a short-sleeved jacket, was seated there, with many elegant companions near him, seated likewise on stools, and conversing among themselves. The _wazir-zadi_ (who had represented herself as a merchant's son, [268]) was greatly surprised at seeing the jeweller; and, on reflection, she became pleased in her own heart, saying, "God grant this be no delusion! it is most probable that this is the very merchant, the anecdote of whom my father mentioned to the king. O, great God, enlighten me as to his circumstances." It happened, that on looking around her, she saw a shop, in which two iron cages were suspended, and two men were confined in them. They looked like _majnun_ in appearance, only skin and bones remained; the hair of their heads and their nails were quite overgrown, and they sat with their heads reclined on their breasts; two ugly negroes, completely armed, were standing on each side [of the cages]. The young merchant was struck with amazement, and exclaimed, "God bless us." When she looked round the other way, she saw another shop, where carpets were spread, on which an ivory stool was placed, with a velvet cushion, and a dog sat thereon, with a collar set with precious stones around his neck, and chained by a chain of gold; and two young handsome servants waited on the dog. One was shaking [over him] a _morchhal_ [269] with a golden handle, set with precious stones, and the other held an embroidered handkerchief in his hand, with which he [from time to time] wiped the dog's mouth and feet. The young merchant, having looked at the animal with great attention, perceived on its collar the twelve large rubies, as she had heard [them described]. She praised God, and began to consider thus: "By what means can I carry those rubies to the king, and show them to him, and get my father released?" She was plunged in these perplexing reflections; meanwhile, all the people in the square and on the road, seeing her beauty and comeliness, were struck with astonishment, and remained utterly confounded. All the people said one to another, "Even unto this day, we have never seen a human being of this form and beauty." The _khwaja_ [270] also perceived her, and sent a slave, saying, "Go thou and entreat that young merchant to come to me." The slave went up to her and delivered his master's message, and said, "If you will have the kindness, then my master is desirous of [seeing] your honour; pray come and have an interview with him." The young merchant indeed wished this very thing, and said in reply, "Very well." [271] The moment she came near the _khwaja_, and he had a full view of her, the dart of attachment pierced his breast; he rose up to receive her respectfully, but his senses were utterly bewildered. The young merchant perceived that "now he is entangled in the net" [of my charms]. They mutually embraced one another; the _khwaja_ kissed the young merchant's forehead, and made him sit down near him; and asked with much kindness, "inform me of your name and lineage? whence have you come, and where do you intend to go?" The young merchant replied, "This humble servant's country is _Rum_, and Constantinople has been for ages the birth-place [of my ancestors.] My father is a merchant; and as he is now from old age unable to travel [from country to country on his mercantile concerns] on this account he has sent me abroad to learn the affairs of commerce. Until now I had not put my foot out of our door; this is the very first journey that has occurred to me. I had not courage [272] to come here by sea, I therefore travelled by land; but your excellence and good name is so renowned in this country of _'Ajam_ [273] that to have the pleasure only of meeting you I have come so far. At last, by the favour of God, I have had the honour of [sitting in] your noble presence, and have found your good qualities exceed your renown; the wish of my heart is accomplished; God preserve you in safety, I will now set out from hence." On hearing these [last words], the _khwaja's_ mind and senses were quite discomposed, and he exclaimed, "O, my son, do not speak to me of such a thing;" stay some days with me in my humble abode; pray tell me where are your goods, and your servants?" The young merchant replied, "The traveller's abode is the _sara,e_; [274] leaving them there, I came to see you." The _khwaja_ said, "It is unbecoming [a person of your consideration] to dwell in the _sara,e_ I have some reputation in this city, and much celebrity; send quickly for your baggage, &c.; I will prepare a house for your goods; let me see whatever commodities you have brought; I will so manage it, that you will get here great profit on them. At the same time, you will be at your ease, and saved the danger and fatigue [of travelling any farther for a market], and by staying with me a few days you will greatly oblige me." The young merchant pretended [275] to make some excuses, but the _khwaja_ would not accept them, and ordered one of his agents, saying, "Send quickly some burden-bearers, and bring the goods, &c., from the _caravanserai_ and lodge them in such a place." The young merchant likewise sent a slave of his own with [the agent] to bring the property and merchandise; and he himself remained with the _khwaja_ until the evening. When the time of [the afternoon] market had elapsed, and the shop was shut, the _khwaja_ went towards his house. Then one of the two slaves took the dog up under his arm, and the other took up the stool and carpet; and the two negro slaves placed the two cages on the heads of porters, and they themselves, accoutred with the five weapons, [276] went alongside of them. The _khwaja_ took hold of the young merchant's hand, and conversing with him, reached his house. The young merchant saw that the house was grand, and fit for kings or nobles [to reside in]. Carpets were spread on the border of a rivulet, and before the _masnad_ the different articles for the entertainment were laid out. The dog's stool was placed there also, and the _khwaja_ and young merchant took their seats; he presented to him some wine without ceremony; they both began to drink. When they got merry, the _khwaja_ called for dinner; the _dastar-khwan_ [277] was spread, and the good things of the world were laid out. First they put some meat in a dish, and having covered it with a cover of gold, they carried it to the dog, and having spread an embroidered _dastar-khwan_, they laid the dish before him. The dog descended from his stool, ate as much as he liked, and drank some water out of a golden bowl, then returned and sat on his stool. The slaves wiped his mouth and feet with a napkin, and then carried the dish and bowl to the two cages, and having asked for the keys from the _khwaja_, they opened the locks. They took out the two men [who were confined in the cages], gave them many blows with a great stick, and made them eat the leavings of the dog and drink the same water; they again fastened the doors [of the cages] and returned the keys to their master. When all this was over, the _khwaja_ began to eat himself. The young merchant was not pleased at these circumstances, and did not touch the victuals from disgust. How much soever the _khwaja_ pressed him, yet he flatly refused. Then the _khwaja_ asked the reason of this, saying, "Why do you not eat?" The young merchant replied, "This conduct of yours appears disgusting to me, for this reason that man is the noblest of God's creatures, and the dog is decidedly impure. So to make two of God's own creatures eat the leavings of a dog, in what religion or creed is it lawful? Do not you think it sufficient that they are your prisoners? otherwise they and you are equal. Now, I doubt if you are a _Musulman_; who knows what you are? Perhaps you worship the dog; it is disgusting to me to eat your dinner, until this doubt is removed from my mind." The _khwaja_ answered, "O, son, I comprehend perfectly all that you say, and am generally censured for these reasons; for the inhabitants of this city have fixed upon me the name of dog-worshipper, and call me so, and have published it [everywhere]; but may the curse of God alight on the impious and the infidel!" The _khwaja_ then repeated the _kalima_, [278] and set the young merchant's mind at ease. Then the young merchant asked, thus, "If you are really a _Musalman_ in your heart, then what is the reason of this? By so acting, get yourself generally censured?" The _khwaja_ said in reply, "O, son, my name is reprobated, and I pay double taxes in the city, that no one may know this secret [motive of my conduct]. It is a strange circumstance, which, whoever hears, will get nothing by the recital but grief and indignation. You must likewise pardon me [from relating it]; for I shall not have strength of mind to recount it, nor will you have the composure of mind to listen to it." The young merchant thought within himself, "I have only to mind my own business; why should I to no purpose press him further on the subject?" She accordingly replied to the _khwaja_, "Very well; if it is not proper to be related, do not mention it." He then began to partake of the dinner, and having lifted a morsel, began to eat. The space of about two months [279] the young merchant passed with the _khwaja_, with such prudence and circumspection, that no one found out by any chance that he was a woman [in disguise]. All thought that this [individual] was a male, and the _khwaja's_ affection for him increased daily, so that he could not allow him to be a moment absent from his sight. One day, in the midst of a drinking feat, the young merchant began to weep. On seeing it, the _khwaja_ comforted her, and began to wipe away his tears with his handkerchief, and asked him the cause of his weeping. He answered, "O, father, what shall I say? would to God that I had never attained access to your presence, and that your worship had never shown me that kindness which you are shewing. I am now distressed between two difficulties; I have no heart to be separated from your presence, nor is there a possibility of my staying here. Now, it is necessary for me to go; but in separating from you, I do not perceive hopes of life." On hearing these words, the _khwaja_ involuntarily wept so loudly, that he was nearly choked, and exclaimed, "O, light of my eyes! are you so soon tired of your old friend, that you think of going away and leaving him in such affliction? banish from your heart the idea of departing; as long as I have to live, remain here; I shall not live a day in your absence, and must [in such case] die before my appointed hour. The climate of this kingdom of Persia is very fine and congenial [to your health], you had best despatch a confidential servant, and send for your parents and property here; I will furnish whatever equipages and conveyances you require; when your parents and all their household come here, you can pursue your commercial concerns at your ease. I also have in my life gone through many hardships, and have wandered many countries. I am now old and have no issue; I love you dearer than a son, and make you my heir and head manager. Be you, on the other hand, careful and attentive to my concerns. Give me a bit of bread to eat whilst I live; when I die, be pleased to bury me, and then take [possession of] all my wealth and effects." To this the young merchant replied, "It is true, you have, more than a father, shewn to me kindness and affection, so that I have forgotten my parents; but this humble culprit's father only allowed a year's leave; if I exceed it, then he in his extreme old age will weep himself to death; finally, a father's approbation is meritorious before God, and if mine should be displeased with me, then I fear he may curse me, and I shall be an outcast from God's grace in this world and the next. Now such is your worship's kindness, that you will give me leave to obey my father's commands, and fulfil the duties [of a son] towards a parent; I shall, while life lasts, bear on my neck the gratitude I owe for your kindness. If I am ever [so fortunate as] to reach my native country, I will still ever think of your goodness with my heart and soul. God is the Causer of causes; perhaps some such cause may again occur, that I may have occasion to pay you my respects. In short, the young merchant urged such persuasive and feeling arguments to the _khwaja_, that he, poor man, being helpless, yielded to their force. [280] Inasmuch as he was now completely fascinated, he began to say in reply, "Well, if you will not stay here, I will myself go with you. I consider you equivalent to my own life: hence, if my life goes with you, of what use is a lifeless body? If you are determined to go, then proceed, and take me with you." Saying this to the young merchant, he began his preparations likewise for the journey, and gave orders to his agents to get ready quickly the necessary conveyances. When the news of the _khwaja's_ departure became public, the merchants of that city on hearing it, began likewise their preparations to set out with him. The dog-worshipping _khwaja_ took with him specie and jewels to a great amount, servants and slaves without number, and rich rarities and property worthy of a king, and having pitched his tents of various sorts outside of the city, he went to them. All the other merchants took articles of merchandise with them according to their means, and joined the _khwaja_; they became for themselves a [regular] army. One day, having fixed on a lucky moment for departure, they set out thence on their journey. Having laden thousands of camels with canvas sacks filled with goods, and the jewels and specie on mules, five hundred slaves from the steppes of _Kapchak_, from _Zang_, and from _Rum_, [281] completely armed, men used to the sword, mounted on horses of Arabia, of Tartary, and of _Irak_, accompanied [the caravan]. In the rear of all came the _khwaja_ and the young merchant, richly dressed, and mounted on sedans; a rich litter was lashed on the back of a camel, in which the dog reposed on a cushion, and the cages of the two prisoners were slung one on each side of another, across a camel, and thus they marched onwards. At every stage they came to, all the merchants waited on the _khwaja_ and on his _dastar-khwan_ they ate of his food and drank of his wine. The _khwaja_ offered up his grateful thanks to the Almighty for the happiness of having the young merchant with him, and proceeded on, stage by stage. At last, they reached the environs of Constantinople in perfect safety, and encamped without the city. The young merchant said [to the _khwaja_], "O, father, if you grant me permission, I will go and see my parents, and prepare a house for you, and when it is agreeable to you, you will be pleased to enter the city." The _khwaja_ replied, "I am come so far for your sake, well, go quickly and see [your parents], and return to me, and give me a place to live in near your own." The young merchant having taken leave [of the _khwaja_], came to his own house. All the people of the household of the _wazir_ were surprised, and exclaimed, "What man has entered [the house]!" The young merchant, that is, the _wazir's_ daughter, ran and threw herself at her mother's feet, and wept and said, "I am your child." On hearing this, the _wazir's_ wife began to reproach her, by saying, "O, wanton girl, thou hast greatly dishonoured thyself; thou hast blackened thine own face, and brought shame on thy family; we had imagined thee lost, and, after weeping for thee, had with resignation given thee up; be gone hence." Then the _wazir-zadi_ threw the turban off her head and said, "O, dear mother, I did not go to an improper place, and have done nothing wrong; I have contrived the whole of this scheme according to your wishes to release my father from prison. God be praised, that through the good effect of your prayers, and through His grace, I, having accomplished the entire object, am now returned; I have brought that merchant with me from _Naishapur_, along with the dog (around whose neck are those rubies), and have returned with the innocence you bestowed [282] on me. I assumed the appearance of a man for the journey; now one day's work remains; having done that, I will get my father released from prison, and return to my home; if you give me leave, I will go back again, and remain abroad another day, and then return to you." When the mother thoroughly comprehended that her daughter had acted the part of a man, and had preserved herself in all respects pure and virtuous, she offered up her grateful acknowledgments to God, and, rejoicing [at the event], clasped her daughter to her bosom and kissed her lips; she prayed for her and blessed her, and gave her leave to go, saying, "Do what thou thinkest best, I have full confidence in thee." The _wazir-zadi_ having again assumed the appearance of a man, returned to the dog-worshipping _khwaja_. He had been in the meantime so much distressed at her absence, that through impatience he had left his encampment. It so happened, that as the young merchant was going out in the vicinity of the city, the _khwaja_ was coming from the opposite direction; they met each other in the middle of the road. On seeing him, the _khwaja_ exclaimed, "O, my child! leaving this old man by himself, where wast thou gone?" The young merchant answered, "I went to my house with your permission, but the desire I had to see you again would not allow me to remain [at home], and I am returned to you." They perceived a shady garden close to the gate of the city on the sea shore; they pitched their tents and alighted there. The _khwaja_ and the young merchant sat down together, and began to eat their _kababs_, and drink their wine. When the time of evening arrived, they left their tents, and sat out on high seats to view the country. It happened that a royal chasseur passed that way; he was astonished at seeing their manners and their encampment, and said to himself, "Perhaps the ambassador of some king is arrived;" he stood [and amused himself by] looking on. One of the _khwaja's_ messengers called him forward, and asked him who he was. He replied, "I am the king's head chasseur." The messenger mentioned him to the _khwaja_, who ordered a negro slave, saying, "Go and tell the chasseur that we are travellers, and if he feels inclined to come and sit down, the coffee and pipe are ready." [283] When the chasseur heard the name of merchant, he was still more astonished, and came with the slave to the _khwaja's_ presence; he saw [on all sides] the air of propriety and magnificence, and soldiers and slaves. To the _khwaja_ and the young merchant he made his salutations, and on seeing the dog's state and treatment, his senses were confounded, and he stood like one amazed. The _khwaja_ asked him to sit down, and presented him coffee; the chasseur asked the _khwaja's_ name and designation. When he requested leave to depart, the _khwaja_ having presented him with some pieces [of cloth] and sundry rarities, dismissed him. In the morning, when the chasseur attended the king's audience, he related to those present the circumstances of the _khwaja_; by degrees it came to my knowledge; I called the chasseur before me, and asked about the merchant. He related whatever he had seen. On hearing of the dog's exalted state, and the two men's confinement in the cage, I was quite indignant, and exclaimed, that reprobate of a merchant deserves death! I ordered some of my executioners, saying, "Go immediately, and cut off and bring me the heretic's head." By chance, the same ambassador of the Franks was present at the audience; he smiled, and I became still more angry, and said, "O, disrespectful; to display one's teeth [284] without cause in the presence of kings, is remote from good manners; it is better to weep than laugh out of season." The ambassador replied, "Mighty sire, several ideas came across my mind, for which reason I smiled; the first was, that the _wazir_ had spoken truth, and would now be released from prison; secondly, that your majesty will be unstained with the innocent blood of the _wazir_; and the third was, that the asylum of the universe, without cause or crime, ordered the merchant to be put to death. At all these circumstances I was surprised, that without any inquiry your majesty should, on the tale of an idle fellow, order people to be put to death. God in reality knows what is the merchant's real case; call him before the royal presence and inquire into his antecedents; if he should be found guilty, then your majesty is master; whatever treatment you please, that you can administer to him. When the ambassador thus explained [the matter to me], I also recollected what the _wazir_ had said, and ordered the merchant, together with his son, the dog, and the cages, to be brought in my presence immediately. The messengers set off quickly [on the errand], and in a short time brought them all. I summoned them before me. First came the _khwaja_ and his son [the young merchant], both richly dressed. All present were astonished and bewildered on beholding the young merchant's extreme beauty; he brought in his hand a golden tray, loaded with precious stones, (the brilliancy of every one of which illuminated the room,) and laid it before my throne, made his obeisance and stood [in respectful silence]. The _khwaja_ also kissed the ground, and offered up his prayers [for my prosperity]; he spoke with such sweet modulation, as if he were the nightingale of a thousand melodies. I greatly admired his elegant and decorous speech; but, assuming a face of anger, I exclaimed, "O, you Satan in human form! what net is this that thou hast spread, and in thine own path what pit hast thou dug? What is thy religion, and what rite is this I see? Of what prophet's sect are thou a follower? If thou wast an infidel, even then what sense is there in thy conduct? what is thy name, that thou actest thus? The _khwaja_ calmly replied, "May your majesty's years and prosperity ever increase; this slave's religious creed is this, that God is one: he has no equal, and I repeat the confession of faith of _Muhammad_ the pure (the mercy of God be shown to him and his posterity; may he be safe!) After him, I consider the twelve _Imams_ as my guides; and my rite is this, that I say the five regulated prayers and I observe fasts, and I have likewise performed the pilgrimage, and from my wealth, I give the fifth in alms, and I am called a _Musalman_. But there is a reason, which I cannot disclose, that I appear to possess all those bad qualities which have raised your majesty's indignation, and for which I am condemned by every one of God's creatures. Though I am [ever so much] called a dog-worshipper, and pay double taxes, all this I submit to; but the secrets of my heart I have not divulged to any one." On hearing this excuse, my anger became greater, and I said, thou art beguiling me with words; I will not believe them until thou explainest clearly the reasons which have made thee deviate from the right path, that my mind may be convinced of their truth; then thy life will be saved; or else, as a retribution [for what thou hast done], I will order thy belly to be ripped up, that the exemplary punishment may deter others in future from transgressing the religion of _Muhammad_. The _khwaja_ replied, "O king, do not spill the blood of this unfortunate wretch, but confiscate all the wealth I have, which is beyond counting or reckoning, and having made me and my son a votive offering to your throne, release us, and spare us our lives." I smiled, and said, O fool! dost thou exhibit to me the temptation of thy wealth? Thou canst not be released, except thou speakest the truth. On hearing these words, the tears streamed profusely from the _khwaja's_ eyes; he looked towards his son and heaved a deep sigh, and said [to him] "I am criminal in the king's eyes; I shall be put to death; what shall I do now? to whom shall I entrust thee?" I threatened him, and said, O dissembler! cease; thou hast made too many excuses [already]; what thou hast to say, say it [quickly]. Then, indeed, that man having advanced forward, came near the throne and kissed the foot of it, and poured forth my praise and eulogy, and said, "O king of kings, if the order for execution had not been issued in my case, I would have borne every torture, and would not have disclosed my story; but life is dear above every [consideration]; no one of his own accord jumps into a well; to preserve life, then, is right; and the abandoning of what is right is contrary to the mandates of God. Well, if such is the royal pleasure, then be pleased to hear the past events of this feeble old man. First, order the two cages, in which the two men are confined, to be brought and placed before your majesty. I am going to relate my adventures; if I falsify any circumstance, then ask them to convict me, and let justice be done." I approved of his proposal and sent for the cages, took them both out, and made them stand near the _khwaja_. The _khwaja_ said, "O king! this man, who stands on the right hand of your slave is my eldest brother, and he who stands on my left is my second [285] brother. I am younger than they; my father was a merchant in the kingdom of Persia, and when I was fourteen years of age, he died. After the burial ceremony was over, and the flowers had been removed [from the corpse on the _Siyum_], [286] my two brothers said to me one day, 'Let us now divide our father's wealth, whatever there is, and let each do [with his share] what he pleases.' On hearing [this proposal], I said, O brothers! what words are these! I am your slave, and do not claim the rights of a brother. Our father, on the one hand, is dead, but you both are alive and in the place of that father. I only want a dry loaf [daily] to pass through life, and to remain alert in your service. What have I to do with shares or divisions? I will fill my belly with your leavings, and remain near you. I am a boy, and have not learnt even to read or write? what am I able to do? At present do you confer instruction upon me. "On hearing this, they replied, 'Thou wishest to ruin and beggar us also along with thyself.' I was silent, and retired to a corner and wept; then I reasoned with myself and said, my brothers, after all, are my elders; they are reproving [me for my good, and] with a view to my education, that I may learn some [profession]. In these reflections I fell asleep. In the morning, a messenger from the _kazi_ came and conducted me to the court of justice; I saw that both my brothers were there in waiting. The _kazi_ asked me, 'Why dost not thou accept thy share of thy father's property?' I repeated to him what I had at home said [to my brothers]. The latter said, 'If he speaks this sentiment from his heart, then let him give us a deed of release, saying he has no claims on our father's wealth and property.' Even then I thought, that as they both were my elders, they advised for my good; that if I got my share of my father's property I might improperly spend it. So, according to their desire, I gave them a deed of release, with the _kazi's_ seal. They were satisfied, and I returned home. "The second day after this, they said to me, 'O brother, we require the apartment in which you live; do you hire another place for your residence, and go and stay there.' 'Twas then I perceived that they were not pleased that I should even remain in my father's house; I had no remedy, and determined to leave it. O protector of the world! when my father was alive, whenever he returned from his travels, he used to bring the rarities of different countries, and give them to me by way of presents; for this reason, that every one loves most the youngest child. I from time to time sold these [presents], and raised a small capital of my own; with this [sum] I carried on some traffic. Once, my father brought for me a female slave from Tartary, and he once brought thence some horses, from which he gave me also a promising young colt; and I used to feed it from my own little property. "At last, seeing the inhumanity of my brothers, I bought a house, and went and resided there; this dog also went along with me. I purchased the requisite articles for housekeeping, and bought two slaves for attendance; with the remainder of my capital I opened a shop as a cloth merchant, and placing my confidence in God, I sat down quietly [in it], and felt contented with my fate. Though my brothers had behaved unkindly to me, yet, since God was gracious, my shop in three years' time increased so greatly, that I became a man of credit. Whatever rarities [in the way of clothes or dresses] were required in every great family, went from my shop only. I thereby earned large sums of money, and began to live in affluent circumstances. Every hour I offered up my prayers to the pure God, and lived at my ease; and often used to repeat these verses on my [prosperous] circumstances:-- 'Why should not the prince be displeased? I have nothing to do with him. Except thyself, O, mighty Prince, [287] What other [sovereign] can I praise? Why should not my brother be displeased? Nothing can he do [to harm me]; Thou alone art my help; Then to whom else should I go? Why should not the friend or foe be displeas'd, During the whole [eight] watches, Let me fix my affections on thy feet only. Let the world be wrathful [with me], But thou dost far transcend [the world]; All others may kiss my thumb, Only it is my wish that thou be not displeased.' "It happened, that on a Friday I was sitting at home, when a slave of mine had gone to the _bazar_ for necessaries; after a short time, he returned in tears. I asked him the reason, and what happened to him. He replied with anger, 'What business is it to you? do you enjoy yourself; but what answer will you give on the day of judgment?' I said, O, you Abyssinian, what demon has possessed thee? He answered, 'This is the calamity, that the arms of your two elder brothers have been tied behind their backs in the _chauk_ by a Jew; he is beating them with a whip, and laughs and says, 'If you do not pay my money, I will beat you even unto the death [and if I lose my money by the act], it will be at least a meritorious deed on my part.' Such is your brother's treatment, and you are indifferent; is this right? and what will the world say?' On hearing these circumstances from the slave, my blood glowed [288] [with fraternal warmth]; I ran towards the _chauk_ with naked feet, and told my slaves to hasten with money. The instant I arrived there, I saw that all that the slave had said was true; blows continued to fall on my brothers. I exclaimed to the magistrate's guards, for God's sake forbear awhile; let me ask the Jew what great fault [my brothers] have committed, in retaliation for which, he so severely punishes them. "On saying this, I went up to the Jew and said, to-day is the sabbath day; [289] why dost thou continue to inflict stripes on them? The Jew replied, 'If you wish to take their part, do it fully, and pay me the money in their stead; or else take the road to your house.' I said, 'what is the amount? produce the bond, and I will count thee out the money.' He replied, 'that he had just given the bond to the magistrate.' At this moment, my slaves brought two bags of money. I gave a thousand pieces of silver to the Jew, and released my brothers. Such was their condition, naked, hungry, and thirsty, I brought them with me to my own house, and caused them instantly to be bathed in the bath, and dressed in new clothes, and gave them a hearty meal. I never asked them what they had done with our father's great wealth, lest they might feel ashamed. "O king, they are both present; ask them if I tell truth, or falsify any of the circumstances. Well, after some space of time, when they had recovered from the bruises of the beating [they had suffered], I said to them one day, 'O brothers, you have now lost your credit in this city, and it is better you should travel for some days.' On hearing this, they were both silent; but I perceived they were satisfied [with my proposal]. I began to make preparations for their journey, and having procured tents and all necessary conveyance, I purchased for them merchandise to the amount of 20,000 rupees. A _kafila_ [290] of merchants was going to _Bukhara_; [291] I sent them along with it. "After a year, that caravan returned, but I heard no tidings of my brothers; at last, putting a friend on his oath, I asked him [what had become of them]. He replied, 'When they went to _Bukhara_, one of them lost all his property at the gambling house, and is now a sweeper at the same house, and keeps clean and plastered the place of gambling, and waits on the gamblers who assemble there; they, by way of charity, give him something, and he remains there as a scullion. The other brother became enamoured of a _boza-vendor's_ [292] daughter, and squandered all his property [on her], and now he is one of the waiters at the _boze-khana_. [293] The people of the _kafila_ do not mention these circumstances to you for this reason, that you would become ashamed [at hearing them]. "On hearing these circumstances from that person, I was in a strange state; hunger and sleep vanished through anxiety; taking some money for [the expenses of] the road, I set out instantly for _Bukhara_. When I arrived there, I searched for them both, and I brought them to the house [I had taken]. I had them bathed and clothed in new dresses, and, from fear of their being abashed with shame, I said not a word to them [of what had happened]. I again purchased some goods for merchandise for them, and returned with them home. When we arrived near _Naishapur_, I left them in a village with all the goods and chattels, and came [secretly] to my house, for this reason, that no one might be informed of my return. After two days, I gave out publicly that my brothers were returned from their journey, and that I would go out tomorrow to meet them. In the morning, as I wished to set out, a peasant of that village came to me, and began to make loud complaints; on hearing his voice I came out, and seeing him crying, I asked, why dost thou make a lamentation? He answered, 'Our houses have been plundered, owing to your brothers; would to God that you had not left them there!' "I asked, what misfortune has occurred? He replied, 'A gang of robbers came at night and plundered their property and goods, and they at the same time robbed our houses.' I pitied him, and asked, where are these two now? He answered, 'They are sitting without the city, stark naked and utterly distressed.' I instantly took two suits of clothes with me and went [to them], and having clothed them, brought them to my house. The people [of the city], hearing [the circumstances of the robbery], continued coming to see them, but they did not go out through shame. Three months passed in this same manner; at last I reflected within myself, 'how long will they thus remain squatted in a corner? If it can be brought about, I will take them with me on some voyage.' "I proposed it to my brothers, and added, 'if you please, I will go with you.' They were silent. I again made the necessary preparations for the voyage, purchased some goods for the trade, and set out and took them with me. After I had distributed the customary alms [for a prosperous voyage], and loaded the merchandise on the ship, we weighed anchor, and the vessel set sail. This dog was sleeping on the banks [of the river]; when he awoke, and saw the ship in the middle of the stream, he was surprised, and having barked and jumped into the river, he began to swim [after us]. I sent a skiff for him, at last having seized [the faithful animal], they conveyed him into the ship. One month passed in safety on the river; somehow, my second brother became enamoured of my slave girl. One day, he thus spoke to our eldest brother, that, 'to bear the load of our younger brother's favours is very shameful; what remedy shall we apply to this [evil]?' The eldest answered, 'I have formed a plan in my mind; if it can be executed, it will be a great thing.' Both at last consulted together, and settled it between them to destroy me, and seize all my property and goods. "One day, I was asleep in the cabin, and the female slave was _shampooing_ [294] me, when my second brother came in hastily and awaked me. I started up in a hurry, and came forth [on deck]. This dog also followed me. I saw my eldest brother leaning on his hands against the vessel's side, and intensely looking at the wonders of the river, and calling out to me. I went up to him and said, 'is all well?' He answered, 'Behold this strange sight; mermen are dancing in the stream, with pearl, oysters, and branches of coral in their hands.' If any other had related this circumstance so contrary to reason, I should not, indeed, have believed it. I imagined what my brother said to be true, and bent down my head to look at it. How much soever I looked, I perceived nothing, and he kept saying, 'Do you now see it?' Now, had there been anything, I should have seen it. Perceiving me [by this trick] off my guard, my second brother came behind me, unperceived, and gave me such a push that, without choice, I tumbled into the water, and they began to scream and cry aloud, 'Run, run, our brother has fallen into the river.' "In the meantime the ship went on, and the waves carried me away from it; I was plunging in the water, and drifting amidst the waves. I became at last quite exhausted; I invoked the aid of God, but nought was of any avail. All of a sudden my hand touched something; I looked at it, and saw this dog. Perhaps, when they pushed me into the river, he also jumped after me, and kept swimming close by my side. I took hold of his tail, and God made him the cause of my salvation. Seven days and nights passed in this manner; the eighth day we reached the shore. I had no strength whatever left, but throwing myself on my back, I rolled along as well as I could, and threw myself on the land. I remained senseless for one whole day; the second day the dog's barking reached my ears; I came to myself, and I thanked God [for my salvation], I began looking around me, and perceived at a distance the environs of a city; but where had I strength, that I should attempt to reach it? Having no other resource, I continued crawling along about two paces, and then rested; in this way I had finished a _kos_ [295] of the road by the evening. "Half way [to the city] I reached a mountain, and lay there all night; the next morning I reached the city; when I came to the _bazar_ and saw the shops of the bakers and confectioners, my heart began to palpitate, for I had not money to buy, nor did I feel inclined to beg. In this way, I went along, saying to myself, I will ask something in the next shop. At last, strength had failed me, and my stomach [296] yearned with extreme hunger; life was nearly quitting my body. By chance, I saw two young men dressed like Persians, walking along hand in hand. On seeing them, my spirits revived, as they seemed [by their dress] to be my countrymen--perhaps some of my acquaintance--to whom, therefore, I might relate my circumstances. When they drew near, [I perceived] they were of a verity, my brothers; and on perceiving this, I was extremely rejoiced, and praised God, saying, 'God has preserved my reputation; and I have not stretched forth my hands to strangers [for subsistence].' I went up to them and saluted them, and kissed my eldest brother's hand. Immediately on seeing me, they made a great noise, and my second brother struck me so forcibly that I staggered and fell down. I seized my eldest brother's robe, thinking that he would perhaps take my part; but he gave me a violent kick. "In short, they both thoroughly pounded me, and behaved to me as Joseph's brothers [did to him]. Though I besought them in God's name [to desist] and implored mercy, yet they felt no pity. A crowd assembled [round us]; and every one asked, 'What is this man's crime?' Then my brothers replied, 'This rascal was our brother's servant and pushed him over into the sea, and seized all his treasure and property. We have been long in search of him, and to-day he has appeared [to us] in this guise.' They then continued questioning me, saying, 'O villain! what [infernal idea] entered thy mind, that thou murderedst our brother? What injury had he done to thee? Had he behaved ill to thee, that he had made thee superintendent [of his affairs]?' They both then tore their own clothes, and wept loudly with sham grief for their brother, and continued to beat and kick me. "In the meantime, the soldiers of the governor arrived, and having spoken to them threateningly, said, 'Why do you beat him?' And taking hold of my hand, they carried me to the magistrate. These two [297] also went with us, and repeated to the magistrate the same [tale which they had told the crowd], and having given him something by way of bribe, they demanded justice, and insisted on blood for blood. The magistrate asked me [what I had to say for myself]. Such was my condition from hunger and the blows [I had received], that I had not strength to speak; hanging down my head, I remained standing [in silence]; no answer issued from my mouth. The magistrate also became convinced that I was assuredly a murderer; he ordered me to be led to the plain, and placed on the stake. [298] O, protector of the world, [299] I had paid money, and got these [two here] released from the Jew's bondage; in return for which, they having given money, endeavoured to take away my life. They are both present; ask them if [in all I have related] I have varied a hair's breadth [from the truth]. Well, they led me out [to the plain]; when I saw the stake, I washed my hands of life. "Except this dog, I had no one else to weep for me; his state was such that he rolled on every one's feet and barked. Some beat him with sticks, and others with stones, but he would not stir from that place. I stood with my face towards the _kibla_, [300] and addressing myself to God, I said, 'At this moment I have no one except Thee to intervene and save the innocent! Now, if Thou savest, I am saved.' After this address, I repeated the prayer of _shahadat_, [301] staggered, and then fell. By the dispensation of God, it so happened, that the king of that country was attacked with the cholic; the nobles and physicians assembled; whatever remedies they applied, produced no good. One holy man said, 'The best of all remedies is, that alms be given to the destitute, and that all prisoners should be released; for in prayer there is greater efficacy than in physic.' Instantly the royal messengers went off running towards the prisons. "By chance, some one came to that plain [where I was], and seeing a crowd, he ascertained [from a bystander] that they were placing some person on the stake. Immediately on hearing this, he galloped up to the stake, and cut the ropes with his sword. He threatened and chastised the magistrate's soldiers, and said, "At such a time, when the king is in such a state, are you going to put a creature of God to death?' and he got me released. Upon which, these two brothers went again to the magistrate, and urged him to put me to death. As this official had already taken a bribe from them, he [readily] acquiesced to do whatever they dictated. "The magistrate said to them, 'Rest satisfied; I will now confine him in such a way, that he will of himself, from want of food and drink, die of sheer exhaustion, and no one will know anything about it.' They re-seized me, and kept me In a corner. About a _kos_ without the city was a mountain, in which, in the time of Solomon, the _divs_ had dug a deep and narrow well; it was called Solomon's prison. Whoever fell greatly under the king's wrath, was confined in that well, where he perished of himself [from hunger and thirst]. To shorten my story, these two brothers and the magistrate's soldiers carried me at night, in silence, to the mountain, and having cast me into that pit, and thus set their own minds at ease, they returned. O king, this dog went with me, and when they put me into the well, he remained lying on its brink. I lay some time senseless in the inside, and then a little consciousness returned to me; I conceived myself to be dead, and that place my grave At this time I heard the sounds of two men's voices, who were saying something to each other; I concluded that these were _Nakir_ and _Munkir_, [302] who were come to question me; and I likewise heard the rustling of a rope, as if some one had let it down there. I was wondering, and began to feel about me on the ground, when some bones came into my gripe. "After a moment, a noise like that made by the mouth when some one is masticating, struck my ears. I exclaimed, 'O creatures of God, who are ye; tell me for God's sake?' They laughed, and said, 'This is the great Solomon's prison, and we are prisoners.' I asked them, 'Am I really alive?' They again laughed heartily, and replied, 'You are as yet alive, but will soon die.' I said, 'You are eating; what would it be if you were to give me some?' They then got angry, and gave me a dry answer, but nothing else. After eating and drinking, they fell asleep. I through faintness and weakness, fell into a swoon, and wept and dreamed of God. Mighty sire, I had been seven days in the sea, and so many days since without food, owing to my brothers' false accusation; yea, instead of food, I had got a beating, and was now ingulfed in such a prison, that not the least appearance of release came even into my imagination. "At last, life was leaving me; sometimes it came, and sometimes it left me. From time to time some person used to come at midnight, and let down by a rope some bread tied up in a handkerchief, and a jar of water, and used to call out. Those two men who were confined near me used to seize it and eat and drink. The dog constantly witnessing this circumstance, exerted his intelligence, thus, 'In the way in which this person lets down water and bread into the pit, do thou also make some contrivance whereby some food may reach this destitute one, who is thy master, then may his life be saved.' Thus having reflected, he went to the city, [and saw that] round cakes of bread piled up on the counter at a baker's shop; leaping up, he seized a cake in his mouth, and ran off with it; the people pursued him, and pelted him with clods, but he would not quit the cake; they became tired [of pursuing him], and returned; the dogs of the city ran after him; he fought arid struggled with them, and having saved the cake, he came to the well, and threw in the bread. There was sufficient light for me to see the cake lying near me, and I heard, moreover, the dog bark. I took up the cake; and the dog, after throwing down the bread, went to look for water. "On the outskirts of a certain village, there was an old woman's hut; jars and pots filled with water stood [at the door], and the old woman was spinning. The dog went up to the pot, and attempted to seize it; the old woman made a threatening noise, and the pot slipped from the dog's mouth and fell upon an earthenware jar which was broken; the rest of the vessels were upset and the water spilt. The old woman seized a stick, and rose up to beat [the animal]; the dog seized the skirt of her clothes, and began to rub his mouth on her feet, and wag his tail; then he ran towards the mountain; again having returned to her, he sometimes seized a rope, and sometimes having taken up a bucket in his mouth, he shewed it [to her]; and he rubbed his face against her feet, and seizing the hem of her garment, he continued pulling her. The Almighty inspired the old woman's heart with compassion, so that she took up the rope and bucket and went along with him. He keeping hold of the end of her clothes, after coming out of the hut, kept going on before her. "At last, he guided her to the very mountain; the old woman imagined, from the dog's conduct, that his master was confined in the well, and that he, perhaps, wanted water for him. In short, conducting the old woman, he came to the mouth of the well. The old woman filled the bucket with water and let it down by a rope. I seized the vessel and ate a morsel of the cake. I drank two or three gulps of the water, and satisfied my hunger and thirst. [303] I thanked God [for this timely supply], and retired to a corner, and waited with patience for the interference of the Almighty, saying, "Now let us see what is to come about." In this manner, this dumb animal used to bring me bread, and by means of the old woman, he used to supply me with water to drink. When the bakers perceived that the dog always carried off bread [in this way], they took compassion on him, and made it a rule to throw him a cake whenever they saw him; and if the old woman neglected to carry the water, he used to break her pots; so that she, being helpless, used to let down a bucket of water every day. This faithful companion removed all my apprehensions for bread and water, and he himself always lay at the mouth of the prison. Six months passed in this manner; but what must be the condition of the man who was confined so long in such a prison, where the air of heaven could never reach him? Only my skin and bones remained; life became a torment to me, and I used to say in my heart, 'O God, it would be better if my life became extinct!' "One night, the two prisoners were asleep; my heart overflowed [with sorrow], and I began to weep bitterly, and supplicate [304] the Almighty [to end my woes]. At the last quarter [of the night], what do I see! that, by the dispensation of God, a rope was hanging down in the well, and I heard [some one] in a low voice saying, 'O, unfortunate wretch! tie the end of the rope tightly to thy hands, and escape from this place.' On hearing these words, I in my heart imagined that my brothers had at last felt compassion for me, and, from the ties of blood, had come in person to take me out. With much joy I tied the rope tightly to my waist; some one pulled me up. The night was so dark, that I could not recognise the person who had hauled me up. When I was out, he said, 'Come, be quick; this is no place to tarry.' I had no strength whatever left; but from fear I rolled down the hill as well as I could. Then I saw at the bottom two horses standing, ready saddled; that person mounted me one of them, and he mounted the other himself, and took the lead. Proceeding on, we reached the banks of a river. "The morning appeared, and we had gone forth ten or twelve _kos_ from the city. I then saw the young man [very clearly]; he was completely armed, having on a coat of mail, together with back, front, and sidepieces [of burnished steel], [305] and with iron armour on his horse; he was looking at me with great rage, and biting his lips, he drew his sword from the scabbard, and springing his horse towards mine, he made a cut at me. I threw myself off my horse [on the ground], and called out for mercy, and said, 'I am faultless; why are you about to kill me? O, kind sir, from such a prison you have taken me out, and now wherefore this unkindness?' He replied, 'Tell me the truth, who art thou.' I answered, I am a traveller, and have been involved in unmerited calamity; by your humane assistance, I have at last come out alive. And I addressed to him many other flattering expressions. "God inspired his heart with pity. He sheathed his sword, and said, 'Well, what God wills, he does; go, I spare thee thy life; remount quickly; this is no place to delay.' We put our horses to their speed, and went forward; on the road he continued to sigh and show signs of regret. By the time of mid-day, [306] we reached an island. There the young man got off his horse, and made me also dismount; he took off the saddles and pads from the horses' backs, and let them loose to graze; he also took off his arms from his own person, and sat clown and said to me, 'O you of evil destiny, relate now your story, that I may know who you are,' I told him my name and place of residence, and whatever various misfortunes had befallen me, I related to the end. "When the young man had heard all my history, he wept, and addressing himself to me, he said, 'O youth, hear now my story. I am the daughter of the _raja_ of the land of _Zerbad_, [307] and that young man who is confined in the prison of Solomon, his name is _Bahramand_; he is the son of my father's prime minister. One day the _Maharaj_ [my father] ordered that all the _rajas_ and _kunwars_ [308] should assemble on the plain, which lay under the lattices [of the seraglio] to shoot arrows, and play at _chaugan_, [309] so that the horsemanship and dexterity of every individual might be displayed. I was seated near the _rani_ [310] my mother, behind one of the lattices of the highest story, and the female servants and slaves were in waiting around; there I was looking at the sport. The minister's son was the handsomest [man] among them; and having caracoled his horse, he performed his exercises with much address. He appeared very agreeable [in my eyes], and my heart became enamoured of him. I kept this circumstance concealed for a long while. "'At last, when I became quite restless, I mentioned it to my hand-maid, and gave her many presents [to gain her assistance]. She contrived, by some means or other, to introduce the youth in secrecy into my apartment; he then began to love me likewise. Many days passed in these love interviews. In short, the sentinels saw him one midnight going armed into my apartment, and seized him, and informed the _raja_ of the circumstance. The _raja_ ordered him to be put to death; through the solicitations of all the officers of state, his life was pardoned, but he was ordered to be thrown into the prison of Solomon; and the other young man, who is a fellow-prisoner with him, is his brother, and was with him the night [he was seized]. Both were put into the well, and it is now three years since they were confined, but no one has yet found out why the youth entered the _raja's_ palace. God has preserved my character [from public exposure], and in return for his goodness, I conceived it my duty to continue to supply the two prisoners with bread and water. Since their confinement I go there every eight days, and let them down eight days' provisions at once. "'Last night, I saw in a dream that somebody advised me, saying, "arise quickly and take a horse, a dress, a rope-ladder, and some money for expenses, and go to that pit, and deliver from thence the unfortunate prisoners." On hearing this, I started up [from my sleep], and being greatly rejoiced, I dressed myself like a man, filled a casket with jewels and gold pieces, and taking this horse and some clothes with me, I went to the prison to draw them out with the rope-ladder. It was in your fate to be delivered from such a confinement in this manner; no one knows what I have done; perhaps he was some protecting angel who sent me to enlarge you. Well, whatever was in my destiny, the same has come to pass.' After finishing this relation, she took out some cakes fried in butter, some wheaten bread, some pulse, and meat curry from her handkerchief; but first, she dissolved some sugar in a cup of water, and put some spirit of _bed-mushk_ in it, and gave it to me. I took it from her hand and drank it, and then ate some breakfast. After a short while, she made me wrap a piece of cloth round my waist, and led me to the river, and with scissors she cut my hair and nails and bathing me, dressed me in the clothes [she had brought], and made a new man of me. I, having turned my face to the _kibla_ offered up a prayer of thanksgiving; the beautiful girl regarded what I was doing. "When I had finished from praying, she asked me, 'What hast thou been thus doing?' I answered, 'I have been worshipping the Almighty God who has created the whole world, and who has effected my relief through a being lovely as thou art, and who has inclined thy heart to kindness towards me, and caused me to be released from such a prison. His person is without an equal, [311] to Him I have performed my devotions, and obeisance, and rendered my thanks.' On hearing these words she said, 'You are a _Musalman_.' I replied, 'Thanks be to God, I am,' 'My heart,' said she, 'is delighted with your pious expressions; instruct me also, and teach me to recite your _kalima_.' I said in my own heart, 'God be praised that she is inclined to embrace our faith.' In short, I recited [our creed], viz., 'There is no God but God, and _Muhammad_ is the apostle of God,' and made her repeat it. Then mounting our horses, we two set out from thence. When we halted at night, she talked of [nothing else but] our religion and faith; and she listened and felt delighted [with my words]. In this way we journeyed on incessantly day and night, for two months. "At last, we arrived in a country which lay between the boundaries of the kingdoms of _Zerbad_ and _Sarandip_; [312] a city appeared, which was more populous than Constantinople, and the climate very fine and agreeable. On finding that the king of that country was more renowned for his justice than _Naushirwan_ [313], and also for being the protector of his subjects; my heart was greatly rejoiced. Having there bought a house, we took up our residence. After some days, when we had got over the fatigues of the journey, I purchased some necessary articles, and married the young lady according to the law of _Muhammad_, and lived with her. In the space of three years, I having freely associated with the great and small of that place, established my credit, and entered into an extensive trade. At last, I surpassed all the merchants of that place. One day, I went for the purpose of paying my respects to the first _wazir_, and saw a great crowd of people assembled on a plain. I asked some one, 'Why is there such a crowd here?' I learnt that two persons had been caught in the act of adultery and theft; and perhaps they had even committed murder; they were brought here to be stoned [to death]. "On hearing this [circumstance], I recollected my own case; that once upon a time I had likewise been led in the same manner to be empaled, and that God preserved me. 'Who can these be,' [I said to myself], 'that they should have become involved in such calamity? I do not even know if they are justly [punished], or, like me, the victims of a false accusation.' Pressing through the crowd, I reached [the spot where the culprits stood], and perceived they were my brothers, who were led along with their hands tied behind their backs, and with bare heads and feet. On seeing their sad state, my blood boiled, and my liver was on fire. I gave the guards a handful of gold pieces, and besought them to delay [the execution] for a moment; and from thence, having put my horse to his utmost speed, I went to the governor's house. I presented to him, as a _nazar_, a ruby of inestimable value, and made intercession for them. He replied, 'A person has a plaint against them, and their crimes have been fully proved; the king's mandate has been issued, and I have no alternative.' "At last, after much entreaty and supplication [on my part], the governor sent for the complainant, and made him consent that for five thousand pieces of silver he should withdraw his charge of murder. I counted out the money, and got his written engagement [not to prosecute them again], and had them released from their dire calamity. O protector of the world! ask them if I tell truth or falsehood." Here the two brothers stood in silence, and hung down their heads like those who are ashamed. "Well, [to proceed], I got them released, and brought them to my house, had them bathed and dressed, and gave them apartments for their residence in the _diwan-khana_. I did not at that time introduce my wife to them; I myself attended to all their wants, and ate [and drank] with them, and at the hour of sleep returned to my apartment. For the space of three years [the time] thus passed in my kind treatment of them, and on their part, no evil action took place, so as to be the cause of my displeasure. When I used to go out riding any where, they remained at home. "It happened, that my good wife went one day to the bath; when she came to the _diwan-khana,_ seeing no male person there, she took off her veil; perhaps my second brother was lying down there awake, and immediately on seeing her, he became enamoured of her. He imparted [the circumstance] to our eldest brother, and they formed a plan together for murdering me. I had no knowledge whatever of this circumstance; on the contrary, I used to say to myself, 'God be praised, that this time, as yet, they have done nothing such [as they formerly did]; their conduct is now correct; perhaps they have felt the effects of shame.' One day, after dinner, my eldest brother began to weep, and to praise our native country, and to describe the delights of _Iran._ [314] On hearing this, the other brother began to sigh. I said, 'If you wish to return to] our native land; then it is well; I am devoted to your pleasure, and it is also my own wish. Now, if it please God, I will go along with you.' I mentioned the circumstance of my brothers' afflictions to my wife, and also my own intentions. That sensible woman replied, 'You may think so; but they again design to perpetrate some villany [towards you]; they are the enemies of your life; you have fostered [a brace of] serpents in your sleeve, and you still place reliance on their regard. Act as you please, but beware of those who are noxious.' At all events, the preparations for the journey were completed in a short time, and the tents pitched on the plain. A great _kafila_ assembled, and they agreed to confer on me the rank of leader and _kafila-bashi._ [315] A propitious hour being ascertained, [the _kafila_] set out; but on my part, I was on my guard against my brothers, though in every way I obeyed their commands, and made everything agreeable to them. "One day [when we arrived] at our stage, my second brother said that, 'one _farsakh_ [316] from this place is a running fountain like _salsabil_ [317] and in the [circumjacent] plain, for miles around, lilies, and tulips, and narcissuses, and roses, grow spontaneously. In truth, it is a delightful spot to walk in; if we had our will, we would go there to-morrow, and enliven our hearts [with the sight], and recover from our fatigues.' I said, 'you are masters here; if you command it, we will halt to-morrow, and having gone to that spot, we will stroll about [and amuse ourselves].' They replied, 'what can we do better?' I gave orders, saying, 'advertise the whole _kafila_ that to-morrow there will be a halt,' and I told my cook to prepare breakfast, of every variety [of dishes] for next day, as we should go on an excursion [of pleasure]. When the morning came, these two brothers put on their clothes, and having armed themselves, they reminded me to make haste, that we might arrive there in the cool [of the morning] and enjoy our walk. I ordered my horse, but they observed thus, 'The pleasure which results by viewing [the place] on foot, can the same be felt in riding? [318] Give orders to the grooms that they may lead the horses after us.' Two slaves carried the _kaliyan_ [319] and coffee-pot, and went along with us. On the road, as we proceeded, we amused ourselves by shooting arrows, and when we had gone some distance from the _kafila_, they sent one of the slaves on some errand. Advancing a little farther, they sent the other slave also to call back [the former]. My unfortunate fate would have it [that I remained silent] as if some one had put a seal on my lips, and they did what they wished, and having occupied my attention in talk, they continued to lead me on; this dog, however, remained with me. When we had advanced a considerable distance, I saw neither fountains nor gardens, but a plain covered with thorns. There I had a call for making water, and sat me down to perform it. I saw behind me a flash like that of a sword; and, on looking back, my second brother struck me such a sword-cut, that my skull was cleft in twain. [320] Before I could call out, O savage! why dost thou murder me; my eldest brother gave me [a blow] on the shoulder. Both wounds were severe, and I staggered and fell; then these two pitiless ones mutilated me at their ease, and left me weltering in my blood. This dog, on seeing my condition, flew at them, and they wounded him likewise. After this, they gave themselves some slight wounds, and ran back to the encampment with naked feet and heads, and gave out, that 'some robbers have murdered our brother on that plain, and we ourselves also in a close encounter with them, have been wounded. Move off quickly, or else they will immediately fall on the caravan, and utterly plunder us all.' When the people of the _kafila_ heard the name of robbers, they immediately became alarmed, and marched off and made their escape. "My wife had [already] heard of the [former] conduct and precious qualities of these [brothers of mine,] and of all the treachery they had practised towards me; hearing now from these liars the events [that had occurred], she instantly stabbed herself to death with her dagger, and restored her soul to her Maker." O _darweshes!_ [321] when the dog-worshipping _khwaja_ had thus far told us of the adventures and misfortunes, I wept involuntarily on hearing them. The merchant having perceived [my grief,] said, "Lord of the world! if it were not a want of respect, I would strip myself naked, and show the whole of my body." Even on this, to [prove] the truth [of what he had related,] he tore his dress off his shoulders, and showed to us [his person]. In truth, there was not the space of four fingers on it free from wounds; and he took off his turban before me from his head, and there was such a great dint in his skull, that a whole pomegranate might be put into it. All the officers of state who were present shut their eyes, they had not the power of beholding [the shocking sight]. The _khwaja_ then continued his narrative, saying, "O blessed majesty! when these brothers, as they thought, had finished their work and went away; on the one side, I lay wounded, and on the other side, this dog lay wounded near me. I lost so much blood from my body, that I had not the least strength or sensation left, and I cannot conceive how life remained. The spot where I lay was on the boundary of the kingdom of _Sarandip_, and a very populous city was situated near the place; in that city there was a great pagoda, and the king of that country had a daughter extremely well-favoured and beautiful. "Many kings and princes were desperately in love with her. There, the custom of [wearing] the veil was unknown; for which reason the princess used to roam about, hunting all day with her companions. Near [the spot where I lay] was a royal garden; she had on that day got leave from her father, and had come to that same garden. Walking about by way of recreation, she chanced to pass over that plain; some female attendants also accompanied her on horseback. They came to the spot where I lay, hearing my groans, they stopped near me. Seeing me in this condition, they rode off to the princess, and said, that 'a miserable man and a dog are lying weltering in their blood.' On hearing this from them, the princess herself came near me, and, afflicted [at the sight,] she said, 'See if any life still remains.' Two or three of the attendants dismounted and having examined me, replied, 'He still breathes.' The princess instantly ordered them to lay me carefully on a carpet and carry me to the garden. "When they brought me there, [the princess] having sent for the royal surgeon, gave him many injunctions respecting the cure both of myself and of my dog, and gave him hopes of a reward and a gratuity. The surgeon having thoroughly wiped my whole body, cleaned it from dust and blood, and having washed the wounds with spirits, he stitched them and put on plasters; and he ordered the extract of the musk-willow [322] to be dropped down my throat in lieu of water. The princess herself used to sit at the head [of my bed], and see that I was attended to; and two or four times during the day and night she made me swallow, from her own hands, some broth or _sharbat_. At last, when I came to myself, I heard the princess say with sorrow, 'What bloody tyrant hath used thee so cruelly? did he not fear even the great idol?' [323] After ten days, with the efficacy of the spirit of _bed-mushk_, and _sharbats_, and electuaries, I opened my eyes; and saw as if the whole court of _Indra_ were standing around me, and the princess at the head of my bed. I heaved a sigh and wished to move myself, but had not sufficient strength. The princess said with kindness, 'O Persian, be of good cheer, and do not grieve; though some cruel oppressor hath used thee thus; yet the great idol has made me favourable towards thee, and thou wilt now recover.' "I swear by that God who is one, and without a partner, that on beholding her I again became senseless; the princess also perceived it, and sprinkled me with rose water out of a phial held by her own fair hand. In twenty days my wounds filled up and granulated; the princess used to come [regularly] at night when all were asleep, and she then supplied me with food and drink. In short, after forty days, I performed the ablution [of perfect recovery]; [324] the princess was extremely rejoiced, and rewarded the surgeon largely, and clothed me richly. By the grace of God, and the care and attentions of the princess, I became quite stout and healthy, and my constitution became sound; the dog also grew fat. She made me drink wine every day, listened to my conversation, and was pleased. I used also to amuse her by relating some agreeable stories and brief narratives. "One day she asked to me, 'pray relate thy adventures, and tell me who you are, and how this accident has happened to you,' I related to her my whole history from beginning to end. On hearing this, she wept and said, 'I will now behave to thee in such a manner that thou wilt forget all thy [past] misfortunes,' I replied, 'God preserve you; you have bestowed on me a second existence, and I am now wholly yours; for God's sake, be pleased ever to regard me in this favourable manner.' In short, she used to sit all night with me alone; sometimes the nurse likewise stayed with her and heard my stories, and related [others herself.] When the princess used to go away and I remained alone, I used to perform my ablutions, and concealing myself in a corner, I used to say my prayers. "Once it so happened, that the princess had gone to her father, and I was repeating my prayers in perfect security, after having performed my ablutions, when suddenly the princess, conversing with her nurse, entered, saying, 'Let us see what the Persian is now doing; whether he be asleep or awake!' But seeing that I was not in my place, she was greatly surprised, and exclaimed, 'Hey day! where is he gone? I hope he has not formed an attachment with some one else.' She began to examine every hole and corner in search of me, and at last came to where I was saying my prayers. She had never seen any one perform his prayers; [325] she stood in silence, and looked on. When I had finished my prayers, and lifted up my arms to bless God, and prostrated myself, she laughed loudly, and said, 'What! is this man become mad? what various postures does he assume?' "On hearing the sound of her laughter, I became alarmed. The princess advanced, and asked me, 'O Persian, what wast thou doing?' I could make no reply, on which the nurse said, 'May I take [the responsibility of] thy evils, and become thy sacrifice, it appears to me that this man is a _Musalman_, and the enemy of _Lat_ and _Manat_; [326] he worships an unseen God. The princess immediately on hearing this struck her hands together, and said in great wrath, 'I did not know he was a Turk, [327] and an unbeliever in our gods, for which reason he had fallen under the wrath of our idol. I have erroneously saved him and kept him in my house,' Saying this she went away. On hearing [her words] I became disturbed, [and alarmed to know] how she would now behave to me. Through fear, sleep was driven from me, and until morning I continued to weep, and to bathe my face with tears. "I passed three days and nights, weeping in this fear and hope. I never shut an eye [during this time.] The third night, the princess came to my apartment flushed with the intoxication of wine, and the nurse along with her. She was full of anger; and with a bow and arrows in her hand, she sat down outside of the room, on the border of the _chaman_; [328] she asked the nurse for a cup of wine, and after drinking it off, she said, 'O nurse! is that Persian who is involved in our great idol's wrath, dead, or does he yet live?' The nurse answered, 'May I bear your evils! some life still remains,' The princess said, 'He has now fallen in my estimation; but tell him to come out.' The nurse called me; I ran forth and perceived that the princess's face glowed through anger, and had become quite red. My soul remained not in my body; I saluted her, and having joined both my hands together, stood before her [in silent respect.] Giving me a look of anger, she said to the nurse, 'If I kill this enemy of our faith with an arrow, will the great idol pardon my guilt or not? I have already committed a great crime by having kept him in my house, and by supplying [his wants.]' "The nurse answered, 'What is the princess's guilt? you did not in the least know him to be an enemy when you kept him [in your house;] you took compassion upon him, and you will receive good for the good you have done; and this man will receive from the great idol the reward of the evil which he has done.' On hearing these words, the princess said, 'Nurse, tell him to sit down.' The nurse made me a sign to sit down; I accordingly sat down. The princess drank another cup of wine, and said to the nurse, 'Give this wretch also a cup, then he will take his killing with more ease.' The nurse presented me a cup of wine; I drank it without hesitation, and made my _salam_ [to the princess;] she never looked at me directly, but continued all along to give me furtive side glances. When I became elevated [with the effects of the wine,] I began to repeat some pieces of poetry; among others, I recited the following couplet: 'I am in thy power, and if alive yet, what then? Under the dagger, if one breathes awhile, what then?' On hearing this verse, she smiled, and turning towards the nurse, she said, 'What art thou sleepy?' The nurse, guessing her motive, replied, 'Yes, sleep over-comes me.' She then took her leave, and went away. [329] After a short pause, the princess asked me for a cup of wine; I quickly filled it, and presented it to her; she took it gracefully from my hand and drank it off; I then fell at her feet; she passed her hand kindly over me, and said, 'O ignorant man! what hast thou seen bad in our great idol that thou hast betaken thyself to the worship of an unseen God?' I answered, 'Pray, be just, and reflect a little, whether that God [and He only,] is worthy of adoration, who, out of a drop of water, hath created a lovely creature like thee, and hath given such beauty and perfection, that in one instant thou canst drive into distraction the hearts of thousands of men. What a [contemptible] thing is an idol that any one should worship it? The stone-cutters have shaped a block of stone into a figure, and have spread it as a net to entangle fools. Those whom the devil beguiles, confound the Creator with the created; and they prostrate themselves before that which their own hands have formed. We are _Musalmans_, and we worship him who hath created us. For those [misguided idolaters], He hath created hell; for us [true believers], He hath destined paradise; if you will place your faith in God, you will experience the delights [of heaven], and distinguish truth from error, and you will find that your [present] devotion is false.' "At length, on hearing these pious admonitions, the heart of that stony-hearted one became softened, and through the favour and mercy of God she began to weep, and said, 'Well, teach me thy faith,' I taught her the _kalima_, which she repeated with sincerity of heart, and having expressed penitence, and prayed for pardon, she became a [true] _Musalman_. I then threw myself at her feet [and thanked her]. Until the morning she continued reciting the _kalima_, and praying for pardon. Again she said, 'Well, I have embraced your faith, but my parents are idolators; what remedy is there for them?' I replied, 'what is that to thee? as any one acts, so will he be treated.' She said, 'They have betrothed me to my uncle's son, and he is an idolator; if I should be married to him tomorrow, which God forbid, he, an idolator, would cohabit with me, and I should bear issue, which would be a dreadful misfortune. We ought immediately to think of some remedy for this, so that I may be freed from such a calamity,' I replied, 'what you say is indeed reasonable; do whatever you think proper.' She said, 'I will remain here no longer, but go forth somewhere else.' I asked, 'by what means can you escape, and where will you go?' She answered, 'In the first place, do you leave me here, and go and abide with the _Musalmans_ in the _sarai_, so that every one may hear of it, and not suspect you. You will there continue on the look out for [the departure of] vessels, and if any vessel sails for Persia, let me know; for which reason I will send the nurse to you frequently, and when you send me word [that all is ready,] I will come to you, and having embarked in the vessel, I will effect my escape and obtain my release from the hands of these ill-fated heathens,' I replied, 'I will devote myself as a sacrifice for your life and safety, but what will you do with the nurse?' She answered, 'Her case can be easily settled; I will give her a cup of strong poison. [330] The plan was fixed upon, and when the day appeared, I went to the _sarai_, and hired a private apartment and went and resided therein. During this absence, I only lived in the hopes of meeting again. Two months [331] [after this event,] when the merchants of _Rum_, of Syria, and of _Isfahan_ were assembled together, they formed the project of returning by water, and began to embark their merchandise on vessels. From residing together I had formed acquaintances with most of them, and they said to me, 'Well, sir, will you not also come [along with us]; how long will you stay in this country of infidels?' I answered, 'what have I wherewith I can return to my country? I have as my property this only, a female slave, a chest, and a dog; if you could give me a little room to stay in and fix its price, I shall then be at ease in my mind, and embark likewise.' "The merchants allotted me a cabin, and I paid the money for the hire of it. Having set my heart at ease, I went to the nurse's house under some pretext, and said, 'O mother, I am come to take leave of thee, and am now returning to my country; if I could through your kindness see the princess for a moment, it would be a great satisfaction to me.' At last, the nurse complied [with my request]. I said, 'I will return at night, and wait in such a place;' she replied, 'Very well,' Having settled [this point], I returned to the _sarai_, and carried my chest and bedding on board the vessel and delivered them in charge to the master, and added, 'I will bring my female slave on board to-morrow morning.' The master said, 'Come speedily, as we shall weigh anchor to-morrow early,' I answered, 'Very well.' When the night came, I went to the place I had fixed upon with the nurse, and waited. After a watch of the night had passed, the gate of the seraglio opened, and the princess came out dressed in soiled and dirty clothes, with a casket of jewels in her hand; she delivered the casket to me, and went along with me. As soon as it was morning, we reached the seaside, and embarking on a skiff we went on board the vessel; this faithful dog also went with me. When it was broad daylight, we weighed anchor and set sail. We were sailing along in perfect security, when the report of a cannon was heard from one of the ports. All [on board] were surprised and alarmed; the ship was anchored, and a consultation was held among us [to know] if the governor of the port intended some foul play, and what could be the cause of the firing of cannon. "It happened, that all the merchants had some handsome female slaves [on board], and for fear lest the governor of the port might seize them, they locked them up in chests. I did so likewise, and having shut up my princess in my chest, I locked it. In the meanwhile, the governor and his suite appeared on board a swift sailing vessel, and constantly nearing us, he came and boarded our ship. Perhaps the cause of his coming to us was this: that when the news of the nurse's death and the princess's disappearance became known to the king, in consequence of his being ashamed to mention the [princess's] name, he sent orders to the governor of the port, saying, 'I have heard that the Persian merchants have very handsome slaves with them, and as I wish to buy some for the princess, you will stop them, and send all the slaves that may be in the vessel to the royal presence. On seeing them, I will pay the full value for such as may be approved of, and the remainder shall be returned.' "According to the king's orders, the governor of the port came himself on board our vessel for this purpose. Near my cabin was [the berth of] another person; he also had a handsome female slave locked up in his chest. The governor sat down on that chest, and began to collect all the female slaves [that could be found]; I praised God, and said, 'Well, no mention has been made of the princess.' In short, the governor's people put into their own vessel all the female slaves that were to be found; and the governor, laughing, asked the owner of the chest on which he was sitting, 'Thou hadst also a female slave?' The blockhead was frightened, and answered, 'I swear by your Honour's feet, I alone have not acted in this manner; all of us from fear of you have concealed our [handsome] female slaves in our chests.' The governor, on hearing this confession, began to search all the chests. He opened my chest also, and having taken out the princess, he carried her away with the rest. I fell into a strange state of despair, and said to myself, 'such a [dreadful] circumstance has occurred that thy life is gone for nothing; and now we must see how he will treat the princess.' "In my anxiety for her, I forgot all fear for my own life; the whole day and night I spent in prayers to God [for her safety]. When the next early morn arrived, they brought back all the female slaves in their own vessel. The merchants were well pleased, and each took back his own. All returned, but the princess alone was not among them. I asked, 'What is the reason that my slave is not come back [with the rest]?' They answered, 'We do not know; perhaps the king may have chosen her.' All the merchants began to console and comfort me, and said, 'Well, what has happened is past; do not afflict yourself; we will all subscribe and make up her price, and give it to you.' My senses were utterly confounded; I said, 'I will not now go to Persia.' Then I addressed myself saying to the boatmen, 'O friends, take me with you, and land me on the shore.' They agreed, and I left the vessel and stepped into the boat; this dog likewise came along with me. "When I reached the port, I kept to myself only the casket of jewels which the princess had brought with her; all my other property I gave to the governor's servants. I wandered everywhere in the way of search, that perhaps I might get some intelligence of the princess; but I could find no trace of her, nor could I get the smallest hint respecting that affair. One night I entered the king's seraglio by a trick, and searched for her, but got no intelligence. For nearly the space of a month I sifted every lane and house in the city; and through sorrow I reduced myself almost to death's door, and began to wander about like a lunatic. At last, I fancied that 'my princess must, in all probability, be in the governor's house, and nowhere else.' I went round and inspected the governor's house, to the intent that should I discover any passage I might enter it. "I perceived a sewer high enough to allow a man to go in and out, but there was an iron grating at its mouth; I formed the resolution to enter [the house] by the way of this sewer; I took off my clothes, and descended into that filthy channel. After a thousand toils, I broke the grating, and entered the _chor-mahall_ [332] through the sewer. Then, having put on the dress of a woman, I began to search and examine all around me. From one of the apartments a sound reached my ear, as if some one was praying fervently. Advancing towards the place, I saw it was the princess, who was weeping bitterly and was prostrating herself before her Maker, and praying to him thus, 'For the sake of thy prophet and his pure offspring, [333] deliver me from this country of infidels; and restore me once more in safety to the person who taught me the faith of _Islam_.' On seeing her, I ran and threw myself at her feet; the princess clasped me to her bosom, and upon us both a state of insensibility fell. When our senses were restored, I asked her what had happened to her; she answered, 'When the governor of the port carried all the female slaves on shore, I was offering up this prayer to God that my secret might not any how be known, and that I might not be recognised, and that your life might not be endangered. He is so great a concealer [of our shame], that no one knew I was the princess. The governor was examining every one with a view to purchase [some for himself]; when it came to my turn, he chose me, sent me secretly to his house; the rest he forwarded to the king. "'When my father did not see me among those [slaves], he sent them all back. The whole of this artifice was had recourse to on my account. He now gives out, that the princess is very ill, and if I do not soon appear, then in a few days the news of my death will fly through the whole country; then the king's shame will not be [divulged]. But I am now greatly distressed, as the governor has other designs upon me, and always urges me to cohabit with him; I do not agree [to his desires]. Inasmuch as he [really] loves me, he has as yet waited for my acquiescence, and therefore he remains silent and quiet. But I dread [to think] how long matters can go on in this way; for which reason I have determined within myself, that when he attempts anything further, I will put myself to death. But now that I have met thee, another thought has arisen in my mind; if God is willing, except this mode, I see no other for escape.' "I replied, 'Let me hear it; what sort of scheme is it?' She said, 'If you assist and exert yourself, it can be accomplished.' I said, 'I am ready to obey your commands; if you order me, I will leap into the burning flames, and if I could find a ladder, I would for your sake ascend to the sky; [in short], I will perform whatever you command.' The princess said, 'Go, then, to the temple of the great idol; and in the place where [the people take off [334] their shoes, there lies a piece of black canvas. The custom of this country is, that whoever becomes poor and destitute, he having wrapt himself up in that piece of canvas, sits down in that spot. The people of this country who go there to worship, give him something, each according to his means. "'In three or four days, when he collects some money, the head priests give him a _khil'at_ on the part of the great idol, and dismiss him; having thus become rich, he goes away, and no one knows who he was. Go thou also, and sit under that canvas, and hide well thy hands and face, and speak to no one. After three days, when the priests and idolaters shall have given thee a _khil'at_, and [wish greatly to] dismiss thee; do not thou on any account get up from thence. When they entreat thee greatly, then tell them, "I do not want money nor am I avaricious of riches. I am an injured person, and am come to complain; if the mother of the _Brahmans_ does me justice, it is well; otherwise the great idol will do me justice; and this same great idol will attend to my complaint against my oppressor." As long as the mother of the _Brahmans_ does not come herself to thee, let any one entreat thee ever so much, consent thou not. At last, being compelled to it, she will come to thee herself; she is very old, for she is two hundred and forty years of age, and six and thirty sons, that have been born of her, are the chief priests of the temple; and she is highly respected by the great idol. For this reason she possesses such vast power that all the little and great of this country deem her command [a matter of] felicity; whatever she orders, that they perform with all their heart and soul. Lay hold of the skirt of her garment, and say to her, "O mother, if you do not exact justice from the oppressor to this injured traveller, I will dash my head on the ground before the great idol; he will at last pity me, and intercede for me with you." "'When, after this, she asks thee all the particulars of thy complaint, tell her, "I am an inhabitant of Persia; I am come here from a great distance, both to perform a pilgrimage to the great idol, and in consequence of having heard of your justice. For some days I lived here in peace; my wife also came with me; she is young, her form and figure are excellent, and her features perfect. I do not know how the governor of the port saw her, but he forcibly took her away from me, and shut her up in his house. With us _Musalmans_ it is a rule, that if a stranger sees one of our wives, or takes her away, it is right that the stranger be put to death by whatever means it may be accomplished, and the wife be taken back; and otherwise, we must abandon food and drink; for whilst the stranger lives, that wife is forbidden to the husband. Now, having no other resource, I am come hither; let us see what justice you do to me."' When the princess had fully instructed me in all these circumstances, I took my leave, and came out by the same sewer, and once more replaced the iron grating. "As soon as the morning came, I went to the temple, and, having covered myself with the black canvas, I sat down. In three days' time so many pieces of gold, and silver, and articles of apparel were heaped up near me, that it appeared a regular store. On the fourth day, the priests, performing their devotion, and singing and playing, came to me with a _khil'at_, and wished to dismiss me. I would not agree to it, and called on the great idol for protection, and said, 'I am not come to beg, but to get justice from the great idol and the mother of the _Brahmans_; and until I get justice I shall not stir from hence.' On hearing this [determination], they went to the presence of the old woman, and related what I had said; after which a _Brahman_ came to me and said, 'Come, the mother calls you.' I instantly wrapped myself up in the black canvas from head to foot, and went to the threshold [of her apartment]. I saw that the great idol was placed on a jewelled throne in which were set rubies, diamonds, pearls and coral; and a rich covering was spread on a golden chair, on which was seated, with great pomp and dignity, an old woman dressed in black, with cushions and pillows [around her], and near her stood two boys, ten or twelve years old, one on her right and one on her left. She called me before her; I advanced towards her with profound respect, and kissed the foot of the throne, and then took hold of the skirt [of her garments]. She asked me my story; I related it exactly as the princess had instructed mo to do. "On hearing it, she said, 'Do _Musalmans_ keep their wives concealed?' I replied, 'Yes, may it fare well with your children; it is an ancient custom of ours.' She said, 'Thine is a good religion; I will instantly give orders that the governor of the port, together with your wife, shall appear here, and I shall punish that ass in such a manner that he will not act so another time, and all shall prick up their ears and tremble.' She asked her attendants, 'Who is the governor of the port? How dares he take away by force the wife of another man?' They answered, 'He is such a one.' On hearing his name, she told the two boys who were standing near her, 'Take this man along with you instantly, and go to the king, and say, "That the mother declares, that this is the command of the great idol, that whereas the governor of the port commits excessive violence on the people; for instance, he has carried off [by force] this poor man's wife, and his guilt is proved to be great; therefore let an inventory be quickly taken of the delinquent's effects and property, and let them be delivered to this Turk, whom I esteem, otherwise you will be destroyed to-night, and you will fall under our wrath.' The two boys rose up, came out of the place, and mounted their horses; all the priests, blowing their shells, and singing hymns, went in their retinue. "In short, the great and little of that country having conceived the dust of the spot where the feet of those boys trod as holy, used to take it up and put it to their eyes. In this manner, they went to the palace of the king. He heard of it, and came forth with naked feet for the purpose of their reception, and having conducted them with great respect, he placed them on the throne near himself, and asked them, 'What has given me the honour of your visit to-day?' The two young _Brahmans_ repeated on the part what they had heard from the mother, and threatened him with the great idol's anger. "On hearing it the king said, 'Very well,' and issued an order to his attendants, saying, 'Let some officers of justice go, and let them immediately bring the governor of the port, along with that woman into our presence, then shall I, having investigated his crime, inflict upon him deserved punishment.' On hearing [this order], I was greatly alarmed in my own heart, [and said to myself], 'This affair indeed is not quite so well; for if they bring the princess with the governor of the port, the matter will be discovered; what then will be my situation?' Being extremely fear-stricken in my mind, I looked up to God, but my countenance was overcast with anxiety, and my body began to tremble. The boys seeing my colour change, perhaps observed that this order was not agreeable to my wish; they instantly rose with vexation and anger, and said harshly to the king, 'O wretch, art thou become mad, that thou steppest aside from the great idol's obedience, and conceivest what we said to be untrue, that thou wishest to send for them both and verify [the circumstance]? Now, take care, thou hast fallen under the great idol's wrath; we have delivered our orders, now do thou look [to it], or the great idol will look [to thee].' "On hearing these words, the king was so greatly alarmed, that, joining both his hands together, he stood [before the boys] and trembled from head to foot. Having made humble supplication, he endeavoured to appease them; but they would not sit down, and they remained standing. In the meantime, all the nobles who were present, began with one voice to speak ill of the governor, saying, 'He is indeed such a wicked man, and so tyrannical, and commits such offences, that we cannot relate the same before the royal presence. Whatever the mother of the _Brahmans_ has sent word of, is all true; inasmuch as it is the great idol's decision; how can it be false?' When the king heard the very same story from all, he was much ashamed and regretful of what he had said. He instantly gave me a rich _khil'at_; and having written an order with his own hand, and sealed [335] with his sign manual, he consigned it to me; he also wrote a note to the mother of the _Brahmans_, and having laid trays of gold and jewels before the boys as presents, he dismissed them. I returned to the temple highly pleased, and went to the old woman. "The contents of the king's letter which had arrived were as follows. After the usual compliments and tenders of service and devotion, [the king] had written, 'That according to the orders of your highness, the situation of governor of the fort has been conferred upon this _Musalman_, and a _khil'at_ [336] has been bestowed on him. He is now at liberty to put the former governor to death; and all his effects and money now belong to this _Musalman_; he may do with him what he pleases. I hope my fault will be forgiven.' The mother of the _Brahmans_ was pleased with the letter, and said, 'Let the music strike up in the _naubat-khana_ of the _pagoda_.' Then she sent with me five hundred well-armed soldiers, who were good marksmen [337] with the musket, to go with me, and gave them orders to go to the port, seize its governor, and deliver him up to this _Musalman_, in order that he may put him to death with what torture he pleases. Also let them take care that, except this honoured [_Musalman_], no one be permitted to enter the [governor's] seraglio, and let them deliver over his money and effects [untouched to the new governor]. When he sends them back with his own accord, let them get a letter of approbation from him, and return to me.' She then gave me a complete dress from the wardrobe of the great idol, and having caused me to mount, she dismissed me. "When I reached the port, one of my men proceeded before me, and informed the governor [of my arrival]. He was sitting like one in great perplexity, when I arrived my heart was already filled with rage; on seeing the harbour-master, I drew my sword, and struck him such a blow on the neck, that his head flew off like a stalk of Indian corn. Then having ordered the agents, the treasurers, the superintendants and other officials to be seized, I took full possession of the records; and then I entered the seraglio. There I met the princess; we embraced each other most tenderly, and wept, and praised the goodness of God; we wiped each other's tears; I then came out and sat on the _masnad_, and gave _khil'ats_ to the officers [of the port], and re-established them in their respective situations; to the servants and slaves I gave promotion. To those people who had come as an escort from the temple, I gave presents and gratuities, and having bestowed dresses on their officers, I dismissed them. Then having taken with me jewels of great value, and pieces of fine cloth, and shawls, and brocaded stuffs and goods, and rarities of every region, and a large sum of money as a _nazar_ [338] for the king, and for the nobles, according to their respective ranks, and for the priests and priestesses, to be divided among them, after one week I went to the idol-temple and laid the presents before the old woman. "She gave me another _khil'at_ of dignity, and a title. I then went to the audience of the king, and presented my _pesh-kash_. I addressed his majesty [on the best means] to remove the evil consequences of whatever acts of tyranny and injustice the [former] governor of the port had committed. For this reason, the king, the nobles, and the merchants were all well pleased with me, and the king showered many favours on me, and having given me a _khil'at_ and a horse, he bestowed on me a title and a _ja-gir_, [339] with other dignities and honours. When I came out from the royal presence, I gave the servants and attendants so much, that they all began to pray [for my welfare]. In short, I became very happy in my condition; and I passed my days in that country in extreme ease and felicity, after marrying the princess; and I offered up thanks to God [for the happiness I enjoyed]. The inhabitants were quite happy through the equity of my administration; and once a month I used to go to the temple and the king's levee; his majesty, from time to time, conferred on me additional promotion. "At last, he enrolled me as one of his privy counsellors, and did nothing without my advice; my life began to pass in extreme delight; but God only knows that I often thought on these two brothers [and was anxious to know] where they were and how they were. After the space of two years, a _kafila_ of merchants arrived at the port from the country of _Zerbad_, and they were all bound for Persia; they wished to return to their own country by sea. It was the rule at that port, that whenever a _karavan_ arrived there, the chiefs of the _karavan_ used to present to me as a _nazar_ some rare presents and curiosities of different countries. On the day following, I used to go to [the chief's] place of residence, and to levy ten per cent. on the value of his goods by way of duty; after which, I gave him permission to depart. In the same manner, those merchants from _Zerbad_ likewise came to wait on me, and brought with them presents beyond value; the second day I went to their tents. There I perceived two men dressed in tattered old clothes, who bore packages and bundles on their heads, right into my presence. After I had examined [the packages], they carried them back; they laboured hard, and attended constantly. "I looked at them with great attention, and perceived they were, indeed, my two brothers. At that time, shame and pride would not allow me to see them in such servitude. When I returned home, I desired my servants to bring those two men to me; when they brought them, I had clothes made up for them, and kept them near me. But these incorrigible villains again laid a plan to murder me. One day at midnight, [340] finding all off their guard, they came like thieves to the head of my bed. I had maintained a guard at my door from apprehensions for my life, and this faithful dog was asleep at the side of my bed; but the moment they drew their swords from the scabbard, the dog first barked, then flew at them; the noise he made awaked all; I, also alarmed, started up. The guards seized them, and I knew them to be themselves all over. Every one began to execrate them, [and said] 'notwithstanding all this kindness, how infamously they have behaved!' "O king, peace be upon you, I also became at last alarmed [for my life]. There is a common saying, 'That the first and second fault may be pardoned, but the third punished.' [341] I determined then, in my own heart, to confine them; but if I had put them in the prison, who would have taken care of them? They might have perished from want of food and drink, or they might have contrived more mischief. For this reason, I have confined them in a cage, that they may be always under my own eye, then my mind will be at rest; lest being absent from my sight, they may hatch further wickedness. The honour and esteem which I evince towards this dog, are on account of his loyalty and fidelity. O, great God, a man without gratitude is worse than a faithful brute! These were the past events of my life, which I have related to your majesty, now, either order me to be put to death, or grant me my life; to the king command belongs." On hearing this narrative, [342] I praised that man of honour, and said, your kindness has been uninterrupted, and there has been no limits to these fellows' shameless and villainous conduct; so true is it, "That if you bury a dog's tail for twelve years, it will still remain crooked as ever." [343] After this, I asked the _khwaja_ the history of those twelve rubies which were in the dog's collar? He replied, "May the age of your majesty be a hundred and twenty years! After I had been three or four years governor of that port, I was sitting one day on the top of my house, which was high, for the purpose of viewing and enjoying the sea and plain beneath. I was looking in all directions, when suddenly, I perceived two human figures, who were coming along from one side of the wood, where there was no high road. Having seized a telescope, I looked at them, and saw they were of a strange appearance: I speedily sent some mace-bearers to call them [to my presence.] "When they came, I perceived they were a man and a woman. I sent the woman into the seraglio to the princess, and called the man before me; I saw he was a youth of twenty or twenty-two years of age, whose beard and mustaches had commenced [growing;] but the colour of his face had become black as that of the _tawa_. [344] The hair of his head, and the nails of his fingers owing to the heat of the sun were greatly grown, and he looked like a man of the woods. He held on his shoulder a boy of about three or four years old, and two sleeves of a garment, filled [with something], were suspended like a collar round his neck; he cut a strange appearance, and was oddly dressed, I was greatly surprised, and asked him, 'O, friend, who art thou, and of what country art thou the inhabitant, and in what a strange condition do I see thee?' The young man began to weep bitterly, and taking off the two filled sleeves from around his neck, he laid them before me, and cried out, 'Hunger, hunger! for God's sake give me something to eat; I have subsisted for a long while on roots and herbs, and there is not a particle of strength remaining in me.' I instantly ordered him some bread, meat, and wine; he began to devour them. "In the meantime, the eunuch brought from my haram several other bags which he found on [the stranger's wife.] I ordered them all to be opened, and saw that they contained precious jewels of every kind, each of which was equal in value to the amount of the king's revenue; each one was more valuable than another in weight, shape and brilliancy; and the whole apartment was illuminated with variegated colours, from the reflection of their different coloured rays. When the young man had eaten something, and drank a cup of wine, his senses returned; I then asked him, 'where did you get these stones?' He answered, 'My native country is _Azurbaijan_; [345] Having separated from my home and parents in my infancy, I have undergone many hardships; I was for a long while buried alive, and have often escaped from the claws of the angel of death.' I said, 'pray, young man, give me the details that I may fully comprehend [your story].' Then he began to relate his adventures as follows:--'My father was a merchant, and he used to travel constantly to _Hindustan_, China, _Khata, Rum,_ and Europe. When I was ten years of age, my father set out for _Hindustan_, and wished to take me with him. Although my mother and various aunts remarked that I was yet a child, and not old enough to travel; my father did not mind them, and said, "I am now old; if he is not instructed under my own eye, I will carry the regret with me to my grave; he is the son of a man, and if he does not learn now, when will he learn?" "'Saying this, he took me with him, in spite of their entreaties, and we set out. The journey was performed in health and safety, and when we arrived in _Hindustan_, we sold some of our goods there, and taking some rarities with us from thence, we set out for the country of _Zerbad_. This journey was likewise performed in safety; there also we sold and bought goods, and embarked on board a ship, to return the quicker to our country. One day, about a month after, we were overtaken by a storm and hurricane, and the rain began to fall in torrents; the whole earth and sky became dark as a mass of smoke, and the rudder broke; the pilot and master began to beat their heads; for ten days the winds and waves carried us where they pleased; the eleventh day the ship having struck against a rock, went to pieces. I did not know what became of my father, our servants and our goods. "'I found myself on a plank, which floated for three days and nights beyond any control [of mine]. On the fourth day it reached the shore. I had just life enough remaining. I got off the plank, crawled along on my knees. I some how or other reached the dry land. I saw some fields at a distance, and many people were assembled there; but they were all black, and as naked as the day they were born; they said something to me; but I did not understand their language in the least. It was a field of the _chana_ [346] pulse; the men, having lighted a large fire were parching the ears [of _chana_] and eating them; and some houses also appeared [near the spot]. Perhaps this was their usual food, and that they lived in those houses; they made signs to me also that I should eat. I plucked up some of the _graum_, roasted it, and began to toss it into my mouth; and having drank a little water, I laid down to sleep in a corner of the field. "'After some time, when I awoke, a man, from among them came to me, and began to show me [by signs] the road; I plucked up some more of the _graum_, and followed the road [he pointed out]. A great level plain appeared before me, vast as the plain of the day of judgment. [347] I proceeded, eating the _graum_ as I went; after four days, I perceived a fort; when I went near it, then I saw it was a very high fort, all built of stone, and each side of which was two _kos_ in length, and the door was cut out of a single stone, and had a large lock attached; but I could see no trace of any human being. I proceeded on from thence and saw a hillock, the earth of which was in colour black as _surma_; [348] when I passed over the hillock, I saw a large city, surrounded with a rampart with bastions at regular intervals; and a river of great width flowed on one side of the city. Proceeding on, I reached a gate, and invoking God, I entered it. I saw a person who was dressed in the garment of the people of Europe, and seated on a chair; the moment he saw I was a foreign traveller, and heard me invoke God, he desired me to advance. I went up to him, and made him a _salam_; he returned my salutation with great kindness, and laid on the table instantly some bread and butter, and a roast fowl and wine, and said, "Eat thy belly full." I ate a little, and drank [some of the wine], and fell sound asleep. When the night came, I opened my eyes, and washed my hands and face; he gave me again something to eat, and said, "O son, relate thy story." I told him all that had happened to me. He then said, "Why art thou come here?" I became vexed, and replied, "Perhaps thou art mad; after hardships of long duration, I have at last seen the appearance of [human] dwellings. God has conducted me so far, and thou askest me why I am come here." He answered, "Go and rest thyself now; I will tomorrow tell thee what I have to say." "'When the morning came he said to me, "There are in this room a spade, a sieve, and a leather bag; bring them out." I said to myself, God knows what labour he will make me undergo because he has made me eat of his bread; having no help for it, I took up those articles and brought them to him. He then ordered me to go to the black hillock [I had passed] and dig a hole a yard deep, and "whatever you find in it pass it through this sieve; whatever cannot pass through, put it in the leather bag, and bring it to me." I took all those implements and went there, and having dug as much [as I was ordered], I passed it through the sieve, and put what remained into the bag, [as directed]; I then saw they were all precious stones of different colours, and my eyes were dazzled with their brilliancy. In this manner I filled the bag up to the mouth, and carried it to that person; on seeing it, he said, "Whatever is in the bag take it for thyself, and go away from hence; for thy stay in this city will not do thee good." I gave for answer, "Your worship has, on your part, done me a great favour by giving me these stones and pebbles; but of what use are they to me? When I become hungry, I shall not be able to eat them nor to fill my belly; and if you give me more of them, what use will they be to me?? That person smiled, and said, "I pity thee, for thou, like me, art an inhabitant of the kingdom of Persia; for this reason I advise thee [against remaining here], otherwise it rests with thee. If thou art determined, at all hazards, to enter this city, then take my ring with thee; when thou reachest the centre of the market place, thou wilt find sitting there a man with a white beard--his face and general appearance are very like mine--he is my eldest brother--give him this ring--he will then take care of thee; act conformably to what he says, otherwise thou wilt lose thy life for nothing; my authority only extends as far as this; I have no entrance into the city." "'I took the ring from him, and, saluting him, took my leave. I entered the city, and saw it was a very elegant place; the streets and market-places were clean and the men and women without concealment were buying and selling among themselves, and were all well dressed. I continued advancing on, and viewing sights. When I reached the four cross roads of the market place, such a crowd there was, that if you threw a brass plate, it would have skimmed over the heads of the people. The multitude were so close to each other, that one could with difficulty make his way through. When the concourse became less, I, pushing and jostling, advanced forward. I saw at last the person [described], seated on a chair, and a _chummak_ [349] set with precious stones lay before him. I approached him, made him my _salam_, and gave him the ring; he looked at me with a look of anger, and said, "Why hast thou come here, and plunged thyself in calamity? Did not my foolish brother forbid thee?" "'I replied, "he did forbid me, but I did not mind him." I then related to him all my adventures from beginning to end. That person got up, and taking me with him, he went towards his own house; his residence appeared like the abode of a king, and he had many servants and attendants. When he had retired to his private apartment and sat down, he said with mildness, "O son! what folly hast thou committed, that on thine own feet thou hast walked to thy grave? What unfortunate blockhead ever comes to this enchanted city?" I answered, I have already fully related to you my history; now indeed fate has brought me here; but do me the kindness to enlighten me on the customs and ways of this place, then shall I know for what reasons you and your brother have dissuaded me from staying here." The good man answered, "The king and all the nobles of this city have been excommunicated; strange are their manners and religion! In an idol temple here there is an idol, from whose belly the devil tells the name, sect, and faith of every individual; so, whatever poor traveller arrives here, the king has information of it; and he conveys the stranger to the pagoda, and makes him prostrate himself before the idol. If he prostrates himself, it is well; otherwise, they cause the poor wretch to be immersed in the river; and if he attempts to escape from the river, his private parts [350] become elongated to such a degree that he has to drag them along the ground. Such enchantment [has God] ordained in this city. I feel pity for thee on account of thy youth; but for thy sake I am going to execute a scheme I have formed that thou mayest be able to live at least a few days, and be saved from this calamity." "'I asked, "What is the nature of the project [you have formed]? impart it to me." He replied, "I mean to have thee married; and to get thee the _wazir's_ daughter for thy wife." I gave for answer, "How can the _wazir_ give his daughter to a wretch so poor and destitute as myself? Will it be when I embrace his faith? This is what I never can do." He replied, "The custom of this city is, that whoever prostrates himself before the idol, if he be a beggar and demand the king's daughter, the king must deliver her up to him in order to gratify his wish, and that they may not grieve him. Now I am in the king's confidence, and he esteems me, for which reason all the nobles and officers of state of this place respect me. In the course of every week, they go twice to the pagoda on a pilgrimage, and there they perform their worship; so they will all assemble there to-morrow, and I will carry thee with me." Saying this, he gave me something to eat and drink, and sent me away to sleep. When the morning came, he took me with him to the pagoda; when we arrived there, I saw that people were going to and fro, and performing their devotions. "'The king and nobles in front of the idol, near the priests, with heads uncovered, were respectfully seated; also unmarried girls and handsome boys, like _Hur_ and _Ghilman_ [351] were drawn up in lines on the four sides. The good old man spoke to me and said, "Now do whatever I say." I agreed, and said, "Whatever you command, that I will perform." He said, "First, kiss the king's hands and feet, then, lay hold of the _wazir's_ dress." I did so. The king asked, "Who is this, and what has he to say?" The man replied, "This young man is my relation, and he is come from far to have the honour to kiss your majesty's feet, and with this expectation, that the _wazir_ will exalt him by [admitting him] into his service, if the order of the great idol and your majesty's approbation be [to that effect]." The king said, "If he will embrace our faith and sect, and adopt our customs, then it will be auspicious [for him]." Immediately, [the drums of] the _nakkar-khana_ [352] of the pagoda struck up; and I was invested with a rich _khil'at_; they then put a black rope round my neck, and dragged me before the seat of the idol, and having made me prostrate myself before it, they lifted me up. "'A voice issued from the idol, saying, "O respected youth, thou hast done well to enter into my service; rely on my mercy and favour." On hearing these words, all the people prostrated themselves, and began to roll on the ground, and exclaimed, "Long may you prosper! why should it not be!" When the evening came, the king and the _wazir_ mounted, and went to the _wazir's_ house, and they made over to me the _wazir's_ daughter according to their rites and ceremonies; they gave a great dowry and presents with her, and expressed themselves highly obliged, saying, that according to the commands of the great idol, they had given her to me. They settled us both in one house; when I saw that beauty, then [I perceived that] in truth her beauty was equal to that of a fairy, perfect from top to toe. All the beauties we have heard of, as peculiar to _Padmini_ [353] females, were centred in her. I cohabited with her without ceremony, and experienced great delight. In the morning, after having bathed, I waited on the king; he bestowed on me the _khil'at_ of marriage, and ordered that I should always attend his levee; at last, after some days, I became one of his majesty's counsellors. "'The king used to be much pleased with my society, and often gave me presents and rich _khil'ats_, although I was rich in worldly treasures, for my wife possessed so much gold property and precious stones, that they exceeded all bounds and limits. Two years passed in extreme delight and ease. It happened that [my wife] the _wazir's_ daughter, became pregnant; when the seventh and eighth months had passed, and she entered her full time, the pains came on; the nurse and midwife came, and a dead child was brought forth; its poison infected the mother, and she also died. I became frantic with grief, and exclaimed, what a dreadful calamity has burst upon me! I was seated at the head of the bed, and weeping; all at once the noise of lamentations spread through the whole house, and women began to pour in [upon me] from all sides. Each as she entered, struck one or two blows with her hands on my head, and stood before my face, and began to weep. So many women were assembled [round me], that I was perfectly hidden among them, and nearly expiring. "'In the mean time, some one from behind seized me by the collar, and dragged me along; I looked up, and saw it was the same man of Persia who had married me [to the _wazir's_ daughter]. He exclaimed, "O blockhead! for what art thou weeping?" I replied, "O cruel! what a question thou askest! I have lost my empire, and the repose of my house is utterly gone, and thou demandest why I weep!" He said, with a smile, "Now weep on account of thy own death; I told thee at first, that perhaps thine evil fate had led thee here [to perish]; so it has turned out; now, except death, thou hast no release." At last, the people seized me, and led me to the pagoda; I saw that the king, the nobles, and thirty-six tribes of his subjects were assembled there; the wealth and property of my wife were all collected there; whatever article any one's heart desired, he took; and put down its price in cash. "'In short, all her property was converted into specie; with this specie precious stones were purchased, and locked up in a small box; they then filled a chest with bread, sweetmeats, roast meat, dried and green fruits, and other eatables; and they put the corpse of my wife into another chest, and slung both the chests across a camel; they mounted me on it, and put the box of precious stones in my lap. All the _Brahmans_ went before me singing hymns and blowing their shells, and a crowd for the purpose of wishing me joy came on behind. In this manner I was conducted out of the city, through the same gate by which I entered the first day. The moment when the same keeper of the gate saw me, he began to weep, and said, "O unfortunate, death-seized [wretch]! thou wouldst not listen to me, but by entering this city thou hast lost thy life for nothing! It is not my fault; I did dissuade thee." He said this to me; but I was so confounded, that I could not use my tongue to reply to him; nor were my senses in their right place, to foresee what would become of me at last. "'They conducted me at last to the same fort, the door of which I had seen shut the first day [I entered this country]. The lock was opened with the assistance of many people united, and they carried in the corpse and the chest of food. A priest came up to me, and began to console me, saying, "Man is born one day, and one day dies; such is the [mode of] transmigration in this world; now these, thy wife, thy son, thy wealth, and forty days' food are placed here; take them, and remain here until the great idol is favourable to thee." In my wrath I wished to curse the idol, the inhabitants of that place, and their manners and customs, and to inflict blows and buffets on that priest. That same man of Persia in his own tongue, forbade me, and said, "Take care, do not on any account utter a word; if you should say anything whatever, they will burn you immediately. Well, whatever was in your destiny, that has taken place: rely now on the mercy of God; perhaps He will deliver you alive from this place." "'In short, all of them, having left me by myself, went out of that fortress, and shut the door. At that moment I wept bitterly at my solitary and helpless state, and began to kick the corpse of that woman, saying, "O cursed corpse, if thou wast to perish in child-birth, why didst thou marry and become pregnant?" After thoroughly beating her, I again sat silent. In the meantime, the day advanced, and the sun became very hot; my brains began to boil, and I was dying by reason of the stench. On whatever side I looked, I saw the bones of the dead, and boxes of precious stones in heaps. I then, having gathered some old chests together, placed them over each other, so that there might be a shed against the heat of the day, and the dews of the night. I began to search for water, and on one side I saw something like a cascade, which was cut out of stone in the wall of the inclosure, and had a mouth like a pot. In short, my life was [sustained] for some time on the food [they had left with me], and the water [I had found.] "'At last, the victuals were exhausted, and I became alarmed and complained to God. He is so beneficent that the door of the inclosure opened and another corpse was brought in; an old man accompanied it. When, having left him also, they went away, it came into my head to kill the old man, and take possession of his chest of provisions. So, having taken up the leg of an old chest, I went up to him; he was, poor wretch, sorely perplexed, seated with his head resting on his knees. I came behind him, and struck him such a blow, that his skull was fractured and his brains came out, and he instantly resigned his soul to God. I seized his stock of provisions, I began to live on it. For a long while this was my way, that whatever living beings came in with the dead, I used to kill the former, and having taken their provisions, I fared plentifully. "'After some time, a young girl once came with a corpse; she was very handsome, and I had not the hard heart to kill her [as had hitherto been my practice]. She espied me, and swooned away through fear. I took up her stock of provisions, and carried it to where I lived; but I did not eat it alone; when I was hungry, I used to carry her some victuals, and we ate together. When the young girl perceived that I did not molest her, her timidity lessened daily and she became more familiar, and used to come to my shed. One day I asked her her story, and who she was; she replied, "I am the daughter of the king's _wakili mutlak_, [354] and had been betrothed to my uncle's son. On the day of the marriage night he was attacked with a colic, and was in such agonies from the pain, that he expired in an instant; [355] they brought me here with his corpse and have left me." She then asked to hear my story; I also related the whole to her, and said, "God hath sent thee here for my sake." She smiled and remained silent. "'In this way mutual affection increased between us in a short time; I taught her the principles of the _Musalman_ faith, and made her repeat our _kalima_. I then performed the marriage ceremony, and cohabited with her; she also became pregnant and brought forth a son. Nearly three years passed in this manner. When she weaned the child, I said to my wife, "How long shall we remain here, and how shall we get out from hence?" She replied, "If God takes us out, then we shall get out; otherwise we shall some day die here." I wept bitterly at what she said, and at our confinement, and continuing to weep, I fell asleep. I saw a person in my dream, who said to me, "There is an outlet through the drain; go thou forth." I started up with joy, and said to my wife, "Collect and bring with you all the old nails and bolts which belonged to the rotten chests, that I may [with their help] widen [the mouth of the drain]." In short, I having applied a large nail to the mouth of that drain, used to strike it with a stone until I became quite tired; however, after a year's labour, I widened the opening so much that a man could get through it. "'I then put the very finest of the precious stones into the sleeves of the habits of the dead, and taking them with us, we three got out through the opening [I had made]. I offered up thanks to God [for our deliverance], and placed the boy on my shoulders. It is a month since we quitted the high road from fear, and have travelled through bye-paths of the woods and mountains; when hunger attacked us, we fed on grass and leaves. I have not strength left to say a word more; these are my adventures which you have just heard,' O mighty king, [356] I took pity on his condition, and having sent him to the bath, I had him well dressed, and made him my deputy. In my own house I had had several children by the princess, but they died one after another, when young; one son lived to five years of age, and then died; from grief for him my wife died also. I was greatly afflicted, and that country became disagreeable to me after her loss; my heart became quite sad, and I determined to return to Persia. I solicited the king's leave to depart, and got the situation of the governor of the port transferred to the young man [whose story I have just related]. In the meantime the king died also; I took this faithful dog and all my jewels and money with me, and came to _Naishapur_, in order that no one should know the story of my brothers. I have become well-known as the dog-worshipper; and owing to this evil fame, I to this day pay double taxes into the exchequer of the king of Persia. "It so happened that this young merchant went to _Naishapur_, and owing to him I have had the honour to kiss your majesty's feet." I asked [357] the _khwaja_ Is not this [young merchant] your son? He answered, "Mighty sire, he is not my son; he is one of your majesty's own subjects; but he is now my master or heir, or whatever you choose to call him." On hearing this, I asked the young merchant, "what merchant's son art thou, and where do thy parents reside?" The youth kissed the ground, and beseeching pardon for his life, replied, "This slave is the daughter of your majesty's _wazir_; my father came under the royal anger on account of this very _khwaja's_ rubies, and your majesty's orders were, that if in one year my father's words should not be verified, he should be put to death. On hearing [the royal mandate], I assumed this disguise and went to _Naishapur_; God has conducted the _khwaja_, together with the dog and rubies, before your majesty, and you have heard all the circumstances; I now am hopeful that my aged father may be released." On hearing these circumstances from the _wazirzadi_, the _khwaja_ gave a groan, and helplessly fell down. When rose water was sprinkled over his face, he recovered his senses, and exclaimed, "O, dire mishap! that I should have come from such a distance, with such toil and sorrows, in the hope that, having adopted the young merchant for my son, I should make over to him by a deed of gift, all my wealth and property, that my name might not perish, and every one should call him _khwaja-zada_; [358] but now my imaginations have proved vain, and the affair has turned out quite the contrary. He, by becoming a woman, has ruined the old man. I fell into female snares, and now the saying may be applied to me, 'Thou remainedst at home, and didst not go to pilgrimage; yet thy head was shaved, and thou art scoffed by all.'" [359] To shorten my story, I took pity on agitation, and groans and lamentations, and called him near me, and whispered in his ear some glad tidings, and added, "do not grieve; I will marry thee to her, and, if God pleaseth, thou shalt have children from her, and she shall [now] be thy master." On hearing these welcome words, he became altogether comforted. I then ordered them to conduct the _wazirzadi_ to the seraglio, and to take the _wazir_ out of prison, bathe him in the bath, dress him in the _khil'at_ of restoration to favour, [360] and bring him quickly before me. When the _wazir_ arrived, I went to the end of the _farsh_ [361] to receive him, and conceiving him my superior, I embraced him, and bestowed on him anew the writing case of the _wazirship_. [362] I conferred also titles _jagirs_ on the _khwaja_, and fixing on a happy hour, I married him to the _wazir's_ daughter. In a few years, he had two sons and a daughter born to him. In short, the eldest son is now _Malikut-Tujjar_, and the youngest, the chief manager of my household. O _Darweshes_, I have related these adventures to you for this reason, that last night, I heard the adventures of two of your number; now you two who remain, fancy to yourselves that I am still where I was last night, and think me your servant, and my house your _takiya_; [363] relate your adventures without fear and stay some days with me. When the _Darweshes_ perceived that the king was very kind to them, they said, "Well, as your majesty condescends to form amity with _Darweshes_, we both will also relate our adventures: be pleased to hear them." ADVENTURES OF THE THIRD DARWESH. The third _Darwesh_, having sat down at his ease, [364] began thus to relate the events of his travels. "O friends, the story of this pilgrim hear; That's to say, hear the tale of what has happened to me; How the king of love hath behaved to me, I am going to relate it in full detail, O, hear." This humble being is the prince of Persia; my father was king of that country, and had no children except myself. In the season of my youth, I used to play with my companions at _chaupar_ [365] cards, chess, and backgammon; or mounting my horse, I used to enjoy the pleasures of the chase. It happened one day, that I ordered my hunting party, and taking all my friends and companions with me, we sallied forth over the plains. Letting loose the hawks [of various sorts] on ducks and partridges, we followed [them] to a great distance. A very beautiful piece of land appeared in sight; as far as the view extended, for miles around, what with the verdure and the red flowers, the plain seemed like a ruby. Beholding this delightful scene, we dropped the bridles of our horses and moved on at a slow pace [admiring the charming prospect]. Suddenly, we saw a black deer on the plain, covered with brocade, and a collar set with precious stones, and a bell inlaid with gold attached to its neck; fearless it grazed, and moved about the plain, where man never entered, and where bird had never flapped a wing. Hearing the sound of our horses' hoofs, it started, and lifting up its head, looked at us, and moved slowly away. On perceiving it, such became my eagerness that I said to my companions, remain where you are, I will catch it alive, take care you do not advance a step, and do not follow me. I was mounted on such a swift horse, that I had often gallopped him after deer, and confounding their bounds, had seized them one after another with my hand. I pushed after it; on seeing me, it began to bound, and swiftly fled away; my horse also kept pace with the wind, but could not overtake the very dust it raised. The horse streamed with sweat, and my tongue also began to crack from thirst; but there was no alternative. The evening was approaching, and I did not know how far I had come, or where I was. Having no other chance [of getting the animal], I employed stratagem towards it, and having taken out an arrow from the quiver, I adjusted my bow, drew the arrow to its full length, aimed it at its thigh, and pronouncing the name of God, I let it fly. The very first arrow entered its leg, and, limping away, it went towards the foot of the mountain. I dismounted from my horse, and followed it on foot; it took to the mountain, and I at the same time gave it chase. After many ascents and descents, a dome appeared; when I got near it, I perceived a garden and a fountain; but the deer disappeared from my sight. I was greatly fatigued, and began to wash my hands and feet [in the fountain]. All at once the noise of weeping struck my ears, as issuing from the dome, and as if some one was exclaiming, "O, child, may the arrow of my grief stick in the heart of him who hath struck thee; may he derive no fruit from his youth, and may God make him a mourner like me." On hearing these words, I went to the dome, and saw a respectable old man, with a white beard, and well dressed, seated on a _masnad_, and the deer lying before him; he was drawing the arrow from its thigh, and uttering imprecations [on the shooter]. I made him my _salam_, and joining my hands together, I said, "Respectable sir, I have unknowingly committed this fault; I did not know it [was your deer]; for God's sake pardon me." He answered, "You have hurt a dumb animal; if you have committed this cruel act through ignorance, God will forgive you." I sat down near him, and assisted him in extracting the arrow; we pulled it out with great difficulty; and having put some balsam to the wound, we let [the deer] go. We then washed our hands, and the old man gave me some food to eat, which was then ready; after satisfying my hunger and thirst, I stretched myself out on a four-footed bedstead. After having fed well, I slept soundly through fatigue. In that sleep, the noise of weeping and lamentation struck my ears; rubbing my eyes, when I looked round, then neither the old man nor any one else was in that apartment. I lay alone on the bed, and the room was quite empty. I began to look with alarm in all directions, and perceived a _parda_ in a corner which was down; going to it, I lifted it up, and saw that a throne was placed there, on which was seated an angelic woman of about fourteen years of age; her face was like the moon, and her ringlets on both sides [of her head] hung loose; she had a smiling countenance; and she was dressed like a European, and with a most charming air; she was seated [on the throne] and looking forward. The venerable old man lay prostrate before her, with his head on her feet, and he was weeping bitterly, and he seemed to have lost his senses. On seeing the old man's condition, and the woman's beauty and perfection, I was quite lost, and having become lifeless, I fell down like a corpse; the old man seeing my senseless state, brought a bottle of rose water, and began to sprinkle it over my face; when I recovered, I got up, and went up to the angelic woman and saluted her; she did not in the least return my salute, nor did she open her lips. I said, "O lovely angel, in what religion is it right to be so proud, and not to return a salute. "'Although to speak little is becoming, yet not so much so; If the lover is dying, even then she would not open her lips.' For the sake of Him who hath created thee, pray give me an answer; I am come here by chance, and the pleasing of a guest is a requisite duty." I talked much to her, but it was of no use; she heard me, and sat silent like a statue. I then advanced, and laid my hand on her feet; when I touched them, they felt quite hard; at last, I perceived that this beautiful object was formed of stone, and that _Azur_ [366] had formed this statue. I then said to the idol-worshipping old man, "I struck an arrow in thy deer's leg, but thou hast with the dart of love pierced my heart through and through; your curse has taken place; now tell me the full particulars of these [strange circumstances]; why hast thou made this talisman, and why, having left [human] habitations, dost thou dwell in woods and mountains? Tell me all that has happened to thee." When I pressed him greatly, he said, "This affair has indeed ruined me; dost thou also wish to perish by hearing it?" I exclaimed, "Hold, thou hast already made too many evasions; answer to the purpose, or else I will kill thee." Seeing me very urgent, he said, "O youth, may God the Almighty keep every person safe from the scorching flame of love; see what calamities this love hath produced; for love, the woman burns herself with her husband, and sacrifices her life; [367] and all know the story of _Farhad_ and _Majnun_; what wilt thou gain by hearing my story? Wilt thou leave thy home, fortune and country, and wander for nothing?" I gave for answer, "Cease, keep thy friendship to thyself; conceive me now thy enemy, and if life is dear to thee, tell me plainly [thy story]." Perceiving there was no alternative, his eyes filled with tears, and he began to say, "The following is this miserable wretch's story:--This humble servant's name is _Ni'man Saiyah_. I was a great merchant; arrived to these years, I have traversed all parts of the world for the purpose of trade, and have been admitted to the presence of all kings. "Once the fancy came into my mind that I had wandered over the regions of the four corners [of the world], but never went to the Island of the Franks, [368] and never saw its king, citizens and soldiers--I knew nothing of its manners and customs--so that I ought to go there also for once. I took the advice of my acquaintances and friends, and resolved [on the voyage]; I took with me some rarities and presents from various places, such as were fit for that country, and collecting a _kafila_ of merchants, we embarked on board a ship and set sail. Having favourable winds, we reached the island in a few months and put up in the city. I saw a magnificent city, to which no city could be compared for beauty. In all the _bazars_ and streets the roads were paved and watered; such was the cleanliness that a bit of straw could not be seen; why then make mention of dirt? The buildings were of every variety, and at night the streets were lighted, at intervals, by two rows of lamps; without the city were delightful gardens, in which rare flowers and shrubs and fruits were seen [in rich profusion], such as no where else could be [seen] except in Paradise. In short, whatever I may say in praise of this [magnificent city] would not exceed [the truth]. "The arrival of our merchants was much talked of. A confidential eunuch [369] mounted on horseback, and attended by many servants, came to our _kafila_, and asked the merchants, "Who is your chief?" They all pointed to me; the eunuch came to my place; I rose up to receive him with respect, and we saluted each other; I seated him on the _masnad_, and offered him the pillow; after which I asked him to tell me what was the occasion which afforded me the honour of his visit; he replied, 'The princess has heard that some merchants are arrived, and have brought much merchandise, for which reason she has desired me to bring them to her presence; so come, and take along with you whatever merchandise may be fit for the courts of kings, and gain the happiness of kissing her threshold.' "I gave for answer, 'To-day, indeed, I am greatly fatigued; to-morrow I will attend her with my life and property; whatever I have by me, I will present as a _nazar_ [to the princess], and whatever pleases her, the same is her majesty's property.' Having made this promise, I gave him rosewater and _betel_, and dismissed him. I called all the merchants near me, and whatever rarities each had, we collected together, and those of my own I took also, and went in the morning to the door of the royal seraglio. The door-keeper sent word of my arrival, and orders came to bring me to the presence; the same eunuch came out, and taking my hand in his, he led me along, whilst we talked in friendly converse. Having passed the apartments of the female attendants of the princess, he conducted me into a noble apartment. O friend, you will not believe it, but so beautiful was the scene, that you might say the fairies had been let loose there with their wings shorn. On whatever side I looked, there my sight became transfixed, and my limbs were torn away [from under me]; I supported myself with difficulty, and reached the royal presence. The moment I cast my eyes upon the princess, I was ready to faint, and my hands and feet trembled. "I contrived, with some difficulty, to make my salutation. Beautiful women were standing in rows to the right and left, with their arms folded. I laid before the princess the various kinds of jewels, fine clothes, and other rich rarities that I had brought with me; from these she selected some, (inasmuch as they were all worthy of choice). She was greatly pleased, and delivered them to her head-servant, and he said to me, that their prices should be paid the next day, according to the invoice. I made my obeisance, and was pleased within myself that under this pretext I should have to come again the next day. When I took my leave and came out, I was speaking and uttering words like those of a maniac. In this state I came to the _serai_, but my senses were not right; all my friends began to ask what was the matter with me; I replied, that from going and returning so far, the heat had affected my brain. "In short, I passed that night in tossing and tumbling [about in my bed]. In the morning, I went again and presented myself [to wait on the princess], and entered the seraglio along with the confidential servant, and saw the same scene I had seen the day before. The princess received me kindly, and sent every one [present] away, each to his own occupation. When there became a dispersion of them, she retired to a private apartment, and called me to her. When I entered, she desired me to sit down; I made her my obeisance, and sat down. She said, 'As you have come here, and have brought these goods with you, how much profit do you expect on them?' I replied, 'I had an ardent desire to see your highness, which God hath granted, and now I have got all I wished; I have acquired the prosperity of both worlds. Whatever prices are marked in the invoice, half is the prime cost, and half profit.' She replied, 'No, whatever price you have marked down shall be paid; moreover, you shall receive presents besides, on condition that you will do one thing, which I am about to order you.' "I replied, 'This slave's life and property are at your service, and I shall think as the happiness of my destinies if they can be of any use to your highness; I will perform [what you desire] with my life and soul.' On hearing these words, she called for a _kalam-dan_, wrote a note, put it into a small purse made of pearls, wrapped the purse in a fine muslin handkerchief, and gave it to me; she gave me likewise a ring which she took from off her finger, as a mark [by which I might make myself known]; she then said to me, 'On the opposite side [of the city] is a large garden, its name is _Dil-kusha_, or "Delight of the Heart." Go you there. A person named _Kaikhusru_ is the superintendent [of the garden]; deliver into his hands the ring, and bless him for me, and ask a reply to this note, but return quick, as if you ate your dinner there and drank your wine here; [370] you will see what a reward I shall give you for this service.' I took my leave, and went along inquiring my way. When I had gone about two _/kos_, I saw the garden. When I reached it, an armed man seized me, and led me into the garden gate. I saw there a young man with the looks of a lion; he was seated on a stool of gold, with an air of state and dignity, having on an armour [forged] by _Da,ud_, [371] with breast plates, and a steel helmet. Five hundred young men, holding each in his hands a shield and sword, and equipped with bows and arrows, were drawn up in a line, and ready [to execute his orders]. "I made him my _salam_, and he called me to him; I delivered him the ring, and, paying him many compliments, I showed him the handkerchief, and mentioned also the circumstance of having brought him a note. The moment he heard me, he bit his finger with his teeth, and slapping his head, he said, 'Perhaps your evil destiny hath brought you here. Well, enter the garden; an iron cage hangs on a cypress tree, in which a young man is confined; give him this note, receive his answer, and return quickly.' I immediately entered the garden; what a garden it was! you might say that I had entered alive into Paradise. Every individual parterre bloomed with variegated flowers; the fountains were playing, and the birds were warbling [on the trees]. I went straight on, and saw the cage suspended from the tree, in which I perceived a very handsome young man. I bent my head with respect, and saluted him, and gave him the sealed and enveloped note through the bars of the cage. That young man opened the note and read it, and inquired of me about the princess with great affection. "We had not yet done speaking, when an army of negroes appeared, and fell on me on all sides, and began to attack me without delay with their swords and spears; what could one single unarmed man do? In a moment they covered me with wounds; I had no sensation or recollection of myself. When I recovered my senses, I found myself on a bed, which two soldiers were carrying along [on their shoulders]; they were speaking to each other; one said, 'Let us throw the corpse of this dead man on the plain; the dogs and crows will soon eat it up.' The other replied, 'If the king should make investigation, and learn this circumstance, he will bury us alive, and grind our children to paste; what! are our lives become a burthen to us, that we should act so rashly?' "On hearing this conversation, I said to the two [ruffians] Gog and Magog, 'for God's sake take some pity on me, I have still a spark of life left; when I die, do with me what you please; the dead are in the hands of the living; [372] but tell me what has happened to me; why have I been wounded, and who are you? pray explain thus much to me.' They then having taken pity on me, said, 'The young man who is confined in the cage is the nephew of the king of this country; and his father was previously on the throne. At the time of his death he gave this injunction to his brother: 'My son, who is heir to my throne, is as yet young and inexperienced; do you continue to guide the affairs of state with zeal and prudence; when he is of age, marry your daughter to him, and make him master of the whole empire and treasury.' "After saying this his majesty died, and the younger brother became king; he did not attend to the [late king's] last injunctions; on the contrary, he gave it out that [his nephew was] mad and insane, and put him into a cage, and has placed such strict guards on the four sides of the garden that no bird can there flap its wing; and many a time he has administered to [his nephew] the poison called _halahal_; [373] but his life is stronger and the poison has had no effect. Now the princess and this prince are lover and mistress; she is distracted at home, and he in the cage; she sent him a love-letter by your hands; the spies instantly conveyed intelligence [of this circumstance] to the king; a body of Abyssinians were ordered out and treated you thus. The king has consulted his _wazir_ on the means of putting to death this imprisoned prince, and that ungrateful wretch has persuaded the princess to kill the innocent prince with her own hands in the king's presence.' "I said, 'Let us go, that I may see this scene even in my dying moments.' They at last agreed [to my request], and the two soldiers and myself, though wounded, went to the scene and stood in silence in a retired corner. We saw the king seated on his throne; the princess held in her hand a naked sword; the prince was taken out of the iron cage, and made to stand before [the king]; the princess, becoming an executioner, advanced with the naked sword to kill her lover. When she drew near the prince, she threw away the sword and embraced him. Then that lover said to her, 'I am willing to die thus; here, indeed, I desire thee,--there, also, I shall wish for thee.' [374] The princess said, 'I have come, under this pretext to behold thee.' The king, on seeing this scene, became greatly enraged, and reproached the _wazir_, and said, 'Hast thou brought me here to see this sight?' The [princess's] confidential servant separated the princess from the prince, and conducted her to the seraglio. The _wazir_ took up the sword, and flew with rage at the prince to end with one blow his unfortunate existence. As he lifted up his arm to strike, an arrow from an unknown hand pierced his forehead, so that [his head] was cleft in twain, and he fell down. "The king, seeing this mysterious event, retired into his palace; and they put the young prince again into the cage, and carried him to the garden; I likewise came out from where I was. On the road, a man called me and conducted me to the princess; seeing me severely wounded, she sent for a surgeon, and enjoined him very strictly, 'cure this young man quickly, and perform the ablution of recovery. Your welfare depends on it; as much care and attention as you bestow on him, so many presents and favours you will receive from me.' In short, the surgeon used his skill and assiduity according to the princess's injunctions, and at the end of forty days, having caused me to be bathed and washed, he presented me to the princess. She asked me, 'Is there now anything else left to be done.' I replied, that through her humanity I was quite recovered. The princess then gave me a rich _khil'at_ and a large sum of money, as she had promised; yea, she even gave me as much more, and then dismissed me. "I took all my friends and servants with me, and set out from that country [to return home]. When I reached this spot, I desired all of them to return to their native country, and I erected on this hill this building, and got a statue made of the princess. I took up my residence here, and having rewarded my servants and slaves according to their respective merits, I dismissed them, saying, whilst I live, I leave it to you to provide me with food; beyond this act, you are your own masters. They supply me with subsistence from gratitude, and I, with heart at ease, worship this statue; whilst I live, this will be my sole [care and] employment; these are my adventures which you have just heard." O, _Darweshes_! on hearing his story, I, having thrown the _kafni_ over my shoulders, and having put on the habit of a pilgrim, set out with extreme desire to see the country of the Franks. After long wandering over mountains and through woods, I began to resemble _Majnun Farhad_. At last, my strong desire carried me to the same [European] city [where the old statue-worshipper had been]; I wandered through its streets and lanes like a lunatic, and I often remained near the seraglio of the princess; but I could get no opportunity to have an introduction to her. I was greatly vexed that I should not obtain the object for which I had undergone such misery and toil, and come so far. On day, I was standing in the _bazar_ when all at once the people began to run away, and the shopkeepers having shut up their shops, also fled. What crowds there were [a moment before], and how desert the place became [all of a sudden]! I soon perceived a young man rushing forward from a side street; he was like _Rustam_ in appearance, and roared like a lion; he flourished a naked sword in each hand; he was in armour, with a pair of pistols in his girdle, and kept muttering something to himself like an inebriated maniac; two slaves followed him, clothed in woollen, and bearing on their heads a bier covered with velvet of _Kashan_. On seeing this sight, I determined to proceed with it; those I met dissuaded me from it, but I would not hear them. Pushing forward, the young man went towards a grand mansion; I also went along with him. He looked back, and perceiving me, he wished to give me a blow and cut me in two; I swore to him that this was the very thing I wished, saying, "I forgive you my blood; relieve me by some means or other from the misery of life, for I am grievously afflicted; I have knowingly and voluntarily put myself in your way; do not delay [my execution]." Setting me determined to die, God infused compassion into his heart, and his anger cooled, and he asked me with much kindness and gentleness, "Who art thou and why art thou tired of life?" I replied, "Sit down awhile that I may tell you; my story is very long and tedious. I am caught in the claws of love, for which reason I am desperate." On hearing this, he unfastened his waist band, and having washed his hands and face, he took some food and gave me some likewise. When he finished his meal, he said, "Say what has befallen thee?" I related all the adventures of the old man and the princess, and the cause of my going there, [i. e. to Europe]. On hearing them he wept at first, and then said, "What numbers of homes this unfortunate [princess] has ruined! Well, thy cure is in my hands; it is probable that through the means of this guilty being thou wilt attain thy wishes; do not give way to anxiety; be confident." He then ordered the barber to shave me, and to apply to me the bath; [375] his slave brought me a suit of clothes and dressed me: then the young man said to me, "This bier which thou seest is that of the late young prince, who was confined in the iron cage; another _wazir_ murdered him at last through treachery; he indeed has obtained release though he has been wrongfully slain. I am his foster brother; I put that _wazir_ to death with a blow of my sword, and made the attempt to kill the king; but he entreated mercy, and swore that he was innocent; I having spurned him as a coward, allowed him to escape. Since then, my occupation has been this, to carry the bier, in this manner, through the city, on the first Thursday of every moon, and to mourn for the [murdered prince]." On hearing these circumstances, from his mouth, I attained some consolation, saying, "If he should wish it, then my desires will be accomplished; God has favoured me greatly, since he has made such a mad man well inclined towards me; so true is it, that if God is favourable, all goes well." When the evening came, and the sun set, the young man took up the bier, and instead of one of the slaves, he put it on my head and took me along with him. He said, "I am going to the princess, and will plead for thee as much as I am able; do not thou open thy lips, but remain silent and listen." I replied, "Whatever you advise, I will strictly do; God preserve you, for you feel pity on my case." That young man proceeded towards the royal garden, and when we entered it, I perceived a marble platform of eight sides, in an open space of the garden, on which was spread an awning of silver tissue with pearl fringe, and erected on poles set with diamonds; a rich brocade _masnad_, with pillows, was spread under the awning. The bier was placed there, and we were both ordered to go and sit under a tree [which he pointed out]. In a short time, the lights of flambeaux appeared, and the princess herself arrived, accompanied by some female attendants before and behind her; melancholy and anger were visible in her looks; she mounted the platform and sat down [on the _masnad_]. The foster-brother stood before her with folded arms, then sat down at a respectable distance on a corner of the _farsh_. The prayer for the dead was read; then the foster-brother said something; I having applied my ear, was listening with attention. At last, he said, "O princess of the world, peace be upon you! The prince of the kingdom of Persia, hearing, in your absence, of your beauty and excellence, has abandoned his throne, and becoming a pilgrim like _Ibrahim Adham_; [376] he is arrived here, after overcoming many difficulties and undergoing great fatigue. The pilgrim hath quitted _Balkh_ [377] for thee; he hath wandered for some time through this city in distress and misery; at last, forming the resolution to die, he joined me; I attempted to alarm him with my sword; he presented his neck, and conjured me to strike without delay, adding, that was his wish. In short, he is firmly in love with you; I have proved him well, and have found him perfect in every way. For this reason I have mentioned him to you; if you take pity on his case and be kind to him, as he is a stranger, it would not be doing too much [on the part] of one who fears God and loves justice." On hearing this speech, the princess said, "Where is he? if he is really a prince, then it does not signify, let him come before us." The foster-brother got up and came [to where I was] and took me with him. I, on seeing the princess, became exceedingly overjoyed, but my reason and my senses departed. I became dumb; I had not power to speak. The princess shortly after returned [to her palace], and the foster-brother came to his own residence. When we reached his house, he said, "I have related all the circumstances [you mentioned] to the princess from beginning to end, and have likewise interceded for you; now do you go there every night without fail and indulge in pleasure and joy." I fell at his feet; [he lifted me up and] clasped me to his bosom. All the day, I continued counting the hours until the evening came, that I might go and see the princess. When the night arrived, I took leave of that young man, and went to the princess's lower garden; I sat down on the marble platform, reclining on my pillow. A hour after, the princess came slowly, attended by one female servant only, and sat down on the _masnad;_ it was through my happy destinies that I lived to see this day! I kissed her feet; she lifted up my head, and embraced me, and said, "Conceive this opportunity as fortunate; mind my advice; take me from hence, and go to some other country." I replied, "Come along." After having thus spoken, we both got out of the garden, but we were so confused, through wonder and joy, that we could not use our hands and feet, and we lost our road; we went along, in another direction, but found not a place of rest. The princess got angry, and said, "I am now tired, where is your house? hasten to get there; otherwise what do you mean to do? My feet are blistered; I shall [be obliged to] sit down somewhere on the road." I replied, "My slave's house is near; we have now reached it; be easy in your mind, and march on." I indeed told a falsehood, but I was at a loss where to take her. A locked door appeared on the road; I quickly broke the lock, and we entered the place; it was a fine house, laid out with carpets, and flasks full of wine were arranged in the recesses, and bread and roast meat were ready in the kitchen. We were greatly fatigued, and drank each of us, a glass of Portugal wine with our meat, and passed the whole night together in mutual bliss. In this scene of felicity when the morning dawned, an uproar was raised in the town that the princess had disappeared. Proclamations were issued in every district and street; and bawds and messengers were despatched with orders, that wherever she was to be found, she might be seized [and brought to the king]; and guards of royal slaves were posted at all the gates of the city. Those guards received orders not to let an ant pass without the royal permission; and that whoever would bring any intelligence of the princess should receive a _khil'at_ and a thousand pieces of gold as a present. The bawds roamed through the whole city and entered every house. I, who was ill fated, did not shut the door. An old hag, the aunt of Satan (may God make her face black), with a string of beads in her hand, and covered with a mantle, finding the door open, entered without fear, and standing before the princess, lifted up her hands and blessed her, saying, "I pray to God that he may long preserve you a married woman, and that thy husband's turban may be permanent! I am a poor beggar woman, and I have a daughter who is in her full time and perishing in the pains of child-birth; I have not the means to get a little oil which I may burn in our lamp; food and drink, indeed, are out of the question. If she should die, how shall I bury her? and if she is brought to bed, what shall I give the midwife and nurse, or how procure remedies for the lying-in woman? it is now two days since she has lain hungry and thirsty. O, noble lady! give her, out of your bounty, a morsel of bread that she may eat the same along with a drink of water." The princess took pity on her, and called her near her, and gave her four loaves, some roast meat, and a ring from her little finger, saying, "having sold this, make jewels [for your daughter] and live comfortably; and come occasionally to see me, the house is yours." The old hag having completely gained the object she came in search of, poured heartfelt blessings on the princess, saluted her and trotted off. She threw away the loaves and meat at the door, but kept the ring snug, saying to herself, "the clue to trace the princess is now in my possession." As God wished to preserve us from this calamity, just then the master of the house arrived; he was a brave soldier, mounted on an Arab horse, with a spear in his hand, and a deer hanging by the side of his saddle. Finding the door of his house open, the lock broken, and the old hag coming out of it, he was enraged, and seized her by the hair and dragged her to the house. He tied both her feet with a rope, and hung her on the branch of a true with her head down and her feet uppermost; so that in a short time the old devil died in agonies. The moment I saw the soldier's looks, I was overcome with such fear that I turned quite pale, and my heart began to tremble with dread. That brave man seeing us both alarmed, gave us assurances of safety, and added, "You have acted very imprudently; you have done the deed and left the door open." The princess, smiling, said, "The prince said it was the house of his slave, and brought me here under a deception." The soldier observed, "The prince said truly, for all the people are the slaves and servants of princes; all are reared and fed from their favour and protection. This slave is yours without purchase; but to conceal secrets is consonant to good sense. O, prince, you and the princess's coming to this humble roof, and honouring me with your presence, will be a source of happiness to me in both worlds; and you have thus dignified your slave. I am ready to sacrifice my life for you; in no way will I withhold either it or my property [from your service]; you may repose here in confidence; there is now no danger. If this vile bawd had gone away in safety, she would have brought calamity [upon you]; remain here now as long as you please, and let this servant know whatever you require; he will procure it. What is the king! angels themselves shall have no tidings of your being here." The brave fellow spoke such words of comfort, and gave such confidence, that we became more easy in our mind. Then I spoke, "Well said, you are a brave fellow; when I am able, I will show you the return for this kindness; what is your name?" He answered, "This slave's name is _Bihzad Khan_. In short, for the space of six months, he performed from his heart and soul all the duty required, and we passed our time very comfortably. One day, my country and my parents recurred to my recollection, which made me pensive and melancholy. Seeing my thoughtful looks, _Bihzad Khan_ joined his hands together, and stood before me, [378] and began to say, "If on the part of this slave any failure has occurred in performing his duty, then let the same be stated." I said, "For God's sake, why mention this? you have behaved to us in such a manner, that we have lived in this city as comfortably as any one does in his mother's womb; for I had committed such an act that every individual straw had become my enemy. Who was such a friend to us, that we could have tarried here a moment? May God preserve you in happiness! You are a brave man." _Bihzad Khan_ then said, "If you are tired of this place, I will conduct you in safety wherever you wish to go." I then said, "If I could reach my own country, I should see my parents; I am in this state; Lord knows what may have been their condition. I have attained the object for which I quitted my country; and it is proper I should now return [to my relations]; they have no tidings of me, whether I am dead or alive; [God knows] what sorrow they may feel in their hearts." That brave man replied, "It is very proper,--let us go." Saying this, he brought a Turkish horse for me, which could travel a hundred _kos_ a-day, and a swift quiet mare of unclipped wings [379] for the princess, and made us both mount; then putting on his cuirass and arming himself completely, he mounted on his horse and said, "I will go before, do you follow me with full confidence." When we came to the city gate, he gave a loud cry, and with his mace broke the bolt, and frightened the guards; he vociferated to them, "Ye rascals, go and tell your master that _Bihzad Khan_ is carrying off the princess _Mihrnigar_, and the prince _Kamgar,_ who is his son-in-law; if he has any spark of manhood, then let him come out and rescue her; do not you be saying that I carried her off in silence and by stealth, otherwise let him stay in the fort and enjoy his repose." This news soon reached the king; he ordered the _wazir_ and general to seize the three rebellious ones, and bring them tied neck and heels to the royal presence, and cut off their heads and lay them before the throne. After a short time, a numerous body of troops appeared, and the heavens and earth were darkened by a whirlwind of dust. _Bihzad Khan_ placed the princess and me on the abutment of an arch of the bridge which, like the bridge of _Jaunpur_, consisted of twelve arches, and he himself turned about, and pushed his horse towards the troops; he rushed in among them like a growling lion; the whole body was dispersed like a flock of sheep, [380] and he penetrated to the two chiefs and cut off both their heads. When the chiefs were killed, the troops dispersed, as the saying is, that "All depends on the head; when it is gone, all is lost." The king came immediately to their assistance, with a body of armed troops; _Bihzad Khan_ completely defeated them also. The king fled; so true it is that "God alone gives victory;" but _Bihzad Khan_ behaved so bravely, that perhaps even _Rustam_ himself could not have equalled his valour. When he saw that the field of battle was cleared, and that no one remained to pursue him, and that there was nothing to apprehend, he came confidentially to the place where we were, and taking the princess and me along with him, he pushed forward. The duration of the journey is rendered short; we reached the boundaries of my country in a short time. I despatched a letter to the king, (who was my father), mentioning my safe arrival; he was quite rejoiced on reading it, and thanked God [for His goodness]. As the withered plant revives by water, so the joyful tidings renovated his drooping spirits; he took all his _amirs_ with him, and advanced for the purpose of receiving me as far as the banks of a large river, and an order for boats [to cross us over] was issued to the superintendent of rivers. I saw the royal train from the opposite bank; from eagerness to kiss my father's feet, I plunged my horse into the river, and swimming over, I rode up to the king; he clasped me with eager fondness to his [paternal] bosom. At this moment, another unforeseen calamity overwhelmed us. The horse on which I was mounted was perhaps the colt of the mare on which the princess rode, or they had been perhaps always together, for seeing my horse plunge into the river, the mare became restive, followed my horse, and likewise plunged into the river with the princess, and began to swim. The princess being alarmed, pulled the bridle; the mare was tender mouthed and turned over; the princess struggled, and sank with the mare, so that not a trace of either was ever seen again. On seeing this circumstance, _Bihzad Khan_ dashed into the river on horseback to afford assistance to the princess; he got into a whirlpool and could not extricate himself; all his efforts with his hands and feet were vain, and he also sank. The king seeing these sad circumstances, sent for nets and had them thrown into the river, and ordered the boatmen and divers [to look for the bodies]; they swept the whole river, but could find nothing. [381] O _Darweshes!_ this dreadful occurrence affected me so much that I became mad and frantic; I became a pilgrim, and wandered about, ever repeating these words,--"Such has been the fate of these three; that you have seen, now view the other side." If the princess had vanished or died anywhere, I should then have some kind of consolation for my heart, for I would have gone in search of her, or have borne the loss with patience; but when she perished before my eyes [in this dreadful manner], I could not support [the shock]. At last, I determined to perish with her in the stream, that I might perhaps meet my beloved one in death. I according plunged into that same river one night in order to drown myself, and went up to the neck in the water; I was on the point of stepping forward and diving down, when the same veiled horseman who saved you two, [382] came up and seized my arm; he consoled me, and said to me, "Be comforted; the princess and _Bihzad Khan_ are alive; why do you uselessly throw away your life? such events do occur in the world. Do not despair of the help of God; if you live, you will some day or other meet the two persons [for whom you are going to sacrifice your life]. Proceed now to the empire of _Rum_; two other unfortunate _Darweshes_ are gone there already; when you meet them, you will attain your wishes." O _Darweshes!_ I am come here to you, according to the advice of my heavenly Mentor; I firmly hope that each of us will gain the desires of his heart. These have been this pilgrim's adventures, which he hath related to you fully and entirely. ADVENTURES OF THE FOURTH DARWESH. The fourth _Darwesh_ began with tears the relation of his adventures in the following manner:-- "The sad tale of my misfortunes now hear, Pay some attention, and my whole story hear; From what causes I distressed have come thus far, I will relate it all,--do you the reason hear." O, guides [to the path] of God, [383] bestow a little attention. This pilgrim, who is reduced to this wretched state, is the son of the king of China; I was brought up with tenderness and delicacy, and well educated. I was utterly unacquainted with the good and evil of this world, and imagined [my life] would ever pass in the same manner. In the midst of this extreme thoughtlessness this sad event took place; the king, who was the father of this orphan, departed [this life]. In his last moments, he sent for his younger brother, who was my uncle, and said to him, "I now leave my kingdom and wealth behind me, and am going to depart; but do you perform my last wishes, and act the part of an elder. Until the prince, who is the heir to my throne, has become of age, and has sense to govern his kingdom; do you act as regent, and do not permit the army and the husbandmen to be injured or oppressed. When the prince has arrived at the years of maturity, give him advice, and deliver over to him the government; and having married him to your daughter, _Roshan Akhtar,_ retire yourself from the throne. By this conduct, the sovereignty will remain in my family, and no harm will accrue to it." After this speech, [the king] himself expired; my uncle became ruler, and began to regulate the affairs of government. He ordered me to remain in the seraglio, and that I should not come out of it until I reached [the years of] manhood. Until my fourteenth year I was brought up among the princesses and female attendants, and used to play and frisk about. Having heard of [my intended] marriage with my uncle's daughter, I was quite happy, and on this hope I became thoughtless, and said to myself, that I shall now in a short time ascend the throne and be married; "the world is established on hope." [384] I used often to go and sit with _Mubarak_, a negro slave, who had been brought up in my late father's service, and in whom much confidence was [placed], as he was sensible and faithful. He also had a great regard for me, and seeing me advancing to the years of manhood, he was much pleased, and used to say, "God be praised, O prince, you are now a young man, and, God willing, your uncle, the shadow of Omnipotence, will shortly fulfil the injunctions [of your late father], and give you his daughter, and your father's throne." One day, it happened that a common female slave gave me, without cause, such a slap, that the marks of her five fingers remained on my cheek. I went, weeping, to _Mubarak_; he clasped me to his bosom, and wiped away my tears with his sleeve, and said, "Come, I will conduct you to-day to the king; he will perhaps be kind to you on seeing yon, and, conceiving you qualified [in years], he may give up to you your rights." He led me immediately to my uncle's presence; my uncle showed me great affection before the court, and asked me, "why are you so sad, and wherefore are you come here to-day?" _Mubarak_ replied, "He is come here to say something [to your majesty]." On hearing this, he said of himself, "I will shortly marry the young prince." _Mubarak_ answered, "It will be a most joyful event." The king immediately sent for the astrologers and diviners into his presence, and with feigned interest asked them, "In this year what month, what day, and what hour is auspicious, that I may order the preparations for the prince's marriage?" They perceiving what were [the king's real wishes], made their calculations, and said, "Mighty sire, the whole of this year is unpropitious; no day in any of the lunar months appears happy; if this whole year pass in safety, then the next is most propitious for a happy marriage." The king looked towards _Mubarak_, and said, "Reconduct the prince to the seraglio, if God willing, after this year is over, I will deliver up my trust to him; let him make himself perfectly easy, and attend to his studies," _Mubarak_ made his _salam_, and taking me along with him, reconducted me to the seraglio. Two or three days after this, I went to _Mubarak_; on seeing me, he began to weep; I was surprised, and asked him, saying, "My father, is all well? what is the cause of your weeping?" Then, that well wisher, (who loved me with heart and soul), said, "I conducted you the other day to that tyrant; if I had known it, I would not have carried you there," I was alarmed, and asked him, "What harm has occurred from my going? pray tell me truly," He then said, "All the nobles, ministers, and officers of state, small and great, of your father's time, were greatly rejoiced on seeing you, and began to offer up thanks to God, saying, 'Now, our prince is of age, and fit to reign. Now, in a short time, the right will devolve upon the rightful [heir]; then he will do justice to our merits, and appreciate the length of our services.' This news reached the ears of that faithless wretch, [385] and entered his breast like a serpent. He sent for me in private, and said, 'O _Mubarak_, act now in such a manner, that by some stratagem or other the prince may be destroyed; and remove the dread of his [existence] from my heart, that I may feel secure.' Since then I am quite confounded, for your uncle is become the enemy of your life." When I heard this dreadful news from _Mubarak,_ I was dead without being murdered, and fell at his feet from fear of my life, and said, "For God's sake, I relinquish my throne; by any means, let my life be saved." That faithful slave lifted up my head, clasped me to his breast, and said, "There is no danger, a thought has struck me; if it turns out well, then there is nothing to fear; whilst we have life, we have everything. "It is probable that, by this scheme [of mine] your life will be preserved, and you will attain your wishes." Giving me these hopes, he took me with him, and went to the apartment where the deceased king, my father, used to sit and sleep; and gave me every confidence. There a stool was placed; he told me to lay hold of one of its legs, and taking hold of the other himself, we removed the stool, and he lifted up the carpet that was beneath it, and began to dig the floor. A window appeared suddenly, to which were attached a chain and lock. He called me near him; I apprehended within myself that he wished to butcher me, and bury me in the place he had dug. Death appeared [in all its horrors] before my eyes; but having no other alternative, I advanced slowly and in silence towards him, repeating within myself my prayers to God. I then saw a building with four rooms inside of that window, and in every room ten large vases of gold were suspended by chains; on the mouth of each vase was placed a brick of gold, on which was set the figure of a monkey inlaid with precious stones. I counted thirty-nine vases of this kind in the four rooms, and saw one vase filled with pieces of gold, on the mouth of which there was neither the brick, nor the figure of the monkey, and I also saw a vat filled to the brim with precious stones. I asked _Mubarak,_ "O my father, what talisman is this? whose place is this, and for what use are those figures?" He replied, "The following is the story of those figures of monkeys which you see:--Your father from his youth formed a friendship and kept up an intercourse with _Maliki Sadik_, who is the king of the _jinns_. "Accordingly, once every year, [his late majesty] used to visit _Maliki Sadik_ and stay near a month with him, having carried thither with him many kinds of essences, [386] and the rarities of this country, [as a present]. When he took his leave, _Maliki Sadik_ used to give him the figure of a monkey made of emerald, and our king used to bring it and place it in these lower rooms; no one but myself knew the circumstance. Once I observed to your father, O mighty king, you carry with you thousands of rupees'-worth of rarities, and you bring back from thence the figure of a lifeless monkey in stone; what is the advantage of this [exchange] in the end? In answer to my question, he smiling, said, 'Beware, and do not, in any way divulge this secret; the information [you receive] is on this condition. Each one of these lifeless monkeys which thou seest has a thousand powerful demons [387] at his command, ready to obey his orders; but until I have the number of forty monkeys complete, so long are all these of no use, and will be of no service to me.' So one monkey was wanting [to complete the efficient number] in that very year, when the king died. "All this toil then has been of no avail, nor has the advantage of it been displayed. O prince, I recollected this circumstance on seeing your forlorn situation, and determined within myself to conduct you by some means or other to _Maliki Sadik_, and mention to him your uncle's tyranny. It is most likely that he, recollecting your father's friendship for him, may give you the one monkey which is wanting [to complete the number]; then, with their aid, you may get your empire, and reign peaceably over China and _Machin,_ [388] and your life, at least, will be secured by this proceeding, if nothing else can be done; I see no other way to escape from the hands of this tyrant, except the plan I propose." On hearing all these consoling circumstances from _Mubarak_, I said to him, "O friend, you are now the disposer of my life; do whatever is best with regard to me." Giving me every confidence, he went to the _bazar_ to buy some _'itr_ and _bukhur_, [389] and whatever he deemed fit to be carried [as a present for _Maliki Sadik_]. The next day, he went to my impious uncle, who was a second _Abu-Jahal_, [390] and said, "Protector of the world, I have formed a plan in my heart for destroying the prince, and if you order me, I will relate it." That wretch was quite pleased, and said, "What is the plan?" Then _Mubarak_ said, "By putting him to death [here], your majesty will be highly censured in every way; but I will take him out to the woods, finish him, bury him, and return; no one will be conversant [of the fact]." On hearing this plan of _Mubarak's_, the king said, "It is an excellent [plan]; I desire this, that he may not live in safety; I am greatly afraid of him in my heart, and if thou relievest me from this anxiety, then in return for that service thou shalt obtain much; take him where thou wilt, and make away with him, and bring me the welcome tidings." Being in this manner at ease with regard to the king, _Mubarak_ took me with him, and having also taken the presents, he set out from the city at midnight, and proceeded towards the north. For a whole month he went on without stopping; one night we were trudging along, when _Mubarak_ observed, "God be praised, we are now arrived at the end of our journey." On hearing this exclamation, I said, "O friend, what dost thou say?" He replied, "O prince, do not you see the army of the _jinns_?" I answered, "I see nothing except you." _Mubarak_ then took out a box containing _surma_, and with a needle applied to both my eyes the _surma_ of _Sulaiman_. I instantly began to see the host of the _jinns_ and the tents and encampments of their army; they were all handsome, and well dressed. Recognising _Mubarak_, they all embraced him, and spake to him facetiously. Proceeding onwards, we at length reached the royal tents, and entered the court. I saw they were well lighted, and stools of various kinds were arranged in double rows, on which were seated men of learning, philosophers, _darweshes_, nobles, and the officers of state; servants of various grades with their arms across were in waiting, and in the centre was placed a throne set with precious stones, on which was seated with an air of dignity, the king, _Maliki Sadik_, with a crown of his head, and clothed in a tunic set with pearls. I approached him and made my salutation; he desired me with kindness to sit down, and then ordered dinner; after having finished [our repast], the _dastar-khwan_ was removed, and he having looked towards _Mubarak_, asked my story. _Mubarak_ replied, "This prince's uncle now reigns in the room of his father, and is become the enemy of his life, for which reason I have run off with him from thence, and have conducted him to your majesty; he is an orphan, and the throne is his due; but no one can do anything without a protector; with your majesty's assistance, this injured [youth] may get his rights; recollect the return due for his father's services, afford him your assistance, and give him the fortieth monkey, that the number may be completed, and the prince, having gained his rights [with their aid], [391] will pray for your majesty's long life and prosperity; he has no other visible resource except your majesty's protection." On hearing all these circumstances, _Maliki Sadik_, after a pause, said, "In truth, the return for the deceased king's services, and his friendship for me, are great; and, considering that this helpless prince is overwhelmed with misfortunes, that he has quitted his lineal throne to save his life, and is come as far as this, and has taken shelter under the shadow of our protection, I shall in no way be wanting [to afford him my assistance] as far as I am able, nor will I pass him over; but I have an affair in hand; if he can do it and does not deceive me--if he executes it properly, and acquits himself fully in the trial, I then promise that I will be a greater friend to him than I was to the late king, his father, and that I will grant him whatever he asks." I joined my hands, and replied, "This servant will most cheerfully perform as far as he is able, whatever services your majesty may require; he will execute them with prudence and vigilance, and without deceit, and think it a happiness to him in both worlds." The king of the _jinns_ observed, "You are as yet a mere boy, for which reason I warn you so repeatedly, that you may not deceive me, and plunge yourself in calamity." I answered, "God, through the good fortune of your majesty, will make it easy to me, and I will, as far as in me lies, exert myself to your satisfaction." _Maliki Sadik_, on hearing [these assurances], called me near him, and taking out a paper from his pocket book, showed it to me, and said, "Search where you think proper for the person whose portrait this is; find her out and bring her to me; when you find out her name and place, go before her, and express great affection to her from me; if you perform this service, then whatever expectations you may have from me, I will exceed them in the performance; otherwise you will be treated as you deserve." When I looked on that paper, I perceived such a beautiful portrait in it, that a faintness came over me; I supported myself with difficulty through fear, and answered, "Very well, I take my leave; if God favours me, I shall execute what your majesty commands." Saying this, I took _Mubarak_ with me, and bent my course towards the woods. I began to wander from city to city, from town to town, from village to village, and from country to country, and to inquire of every one [I met] the name and place [of the fair one whose portrait I had]; but no one said "Yes, I know her," or "I have heard of her from some one." I passed seven years in this wandering state, and suffered every misery and perplexity; at last, I reached a city which was populous, and contained many grand edifices; but every living creature there was repeating the great name, [392] and worshipping God. I saw a blind beggar of _Hindustan_ begging alms, but no one gave him a _kauri_, or a mouthful; I wondered at it, and pitied him; I took out a piece of gold from my pocket, and gave it to him; he took it, and said, "O donor! God prosper you; you are perhaps a traveller, and not an inhabitant of this city." I replied, "In truth, I have wandered distractedly for seven years; I cannot find the smallest trace of the object for which I set out, and have this day reached this city. The old man poured blessings on me, and went on; I followed him; a grand building appeared without the city; he entered it, and I also followed, and saw that here and there the building had fallen down, and was out of repair. I said to myself, "This edifice is fit for princes; what an agreeable place it will be when in repair? and now, through desolation, what an appearance it has! but I cannot conceive why it is fallen into ruin, and why this blind man lives in it." The blind man was going on feeling his way with his stick, when I heard a voice, as if some one was saying, "O father, I hope all is well; why have you returned so early to-day?" The old man, on hearing this question, replied, "Daughter, God made a youthful traveller have pity on my condition; he gave me a piece of gold; it is many a-day since I have had a bellyful of good food. So I have purchased meat, spices, butter, oil, flour, and salt; and I have also procured such clothes for you as were necessary; cut them out, sew them and wear them; and cook the dinner, that we may partake of it, and then offer up our prayers for the generous man [who has been kind to us]; although I do not know the desires of his heart, yet God knows and sees all; and will grant the prayers of us destitute ones." When I heard the circumstance of his severe fasting, I wished much to give him twenty pieces of gold more; but looking towards the quarter from whence the sounds came, I saw a woman who resembled exactly the portrait I had. I drew it out and compared it, and perceived that there was not a hairbreadth of difference. A deep sigh escaped from my bosom, and I became senseless. _Mubarak_ took me in his arms and sat down, and began to fan me; I recovered a little sensation, and was gazing at her, when _Mubarak_ asked, "What is the matter with you?" I had not yet answered him, when the beautiful female said, "O young man, fear God, and do not look at a strange female; [393] shame and modesty are necessary to every one." She spoke with such propriety that I became enchanted with her beauty and manners. _Mubarak_ comforted me greatly, but he did not know the state of my heart; having no alternative, I called out and said, "O you creatures of God, and inhabitants of this place! I am a poor traveller; if you call me near you, and give me some place to put up in, it will be an important matter [for me]." The old man called me to him, and recognising my voice, he embraced me, and conducted me to where the lovely woman was seated; she went and hid herself in a corner. The old man asked me thus: "Tell thy story; why hast thou left thy home, and wandered about alone, and of whom are you in search?" I did not mention _Maliki Sadik's_ name, nor did I say anything about him; but thus told [my supposed tale]. "This wretch is the prince of China and _Machin_; so that my father is still king; he purchased from a merchant this picture for four _lakhs_ of rupees; from the moment when I beheld it, my peace of mind fled, and I put on the dress of a pilgrim; I have searched the whole world, and have now found the object here; the same is in your power." On hearing these words, the old man heaved a heavy sigh, and said, "O friend, my daughter is entangled in great misfortunes; no man can presume to marry her and enjoy her." I replied, "I am in hopes you will explain more fully." Then that strange man related thus his story;--"Hear, O prince! I am a chief and grandee of this unfortunate city; my forefathers were celebrated, and of a great family; God the Most High bestowed on me this daughter; when she became a woman, her beauty and gracefulness and elegance of manners were celebrated; and over the whole country it was said, that in such a person's house is a daughter, before whose beauty even angels and fairies are abashed; how can a human creature, therefore, be compared to her! The prince of this city heard these praises, and became enamoured of her by report without seeing her; he quitted food and drink, and became quite restless. "At last, the king heard of this circumstance, and called me at night in private and mentioned to me how matters stood; he coaxed me so with fine speeches, that at last he got my consent to an alliance [by marriage] with him. I likewise [naturally] reflected that as a daughter was born to me, she must be married to some one or other; then what can be better, than to marry her to the prince? this the king also entreats. I accepted the proposal, and took my leave. From that day the preparations for the marriage were begun by both parties; and on an auspicious hour, all the _kazis_ and _muftis_, [394] the learned men and the nobles were convened, and the marriage rites were performed; the bride was carried away with great _eclat_, and all the ceremonies were finished. At night, when the bridegroom wished to consummate the nuptial rites, such a noise and uproar arose in the palace, that the people without who mounted guard were surprised. They wished that having opened the door of the room, they might see what was the matter; but it was so fastened from the inside, that they could not open it. A moment after, the noise of lamentation became less; they then broke open the door from its hinges, and saw the bridegroom with his head severed from his [body], and [his limbs] still quivering; and the bride foamed at the mouth, and rolled senseless in the dust mingled with [her husband's] blood. "On seeing this horrible sight, the senses of all present forsook them; that such grief should succeed such felicity! The dreadful intelligence was conveyed to the king; he flew [to the spot], beating his head; all the officers of state were soon assembled there, but no one's judgment was of any use in ascertaining the [cause of] this [mysterious] affair; at length the king, in his distracted state, ordered the ill-fated, luckless bride's head to be cut off likewise. The moment this order was issued from the king's lips, the same clamour arose; the king was alarmed, and from fear of his life, he ran off, and ordered the bride to be turned out of the palace. The female attendants conveyed this [unfortunate] girl to my house. The account of this strange event soon spread over the whole kingdom, and whoever heard it was amazed; and owing to the prince's murder, the king himself and all the inhabitants of the city became bitter enemies of my life. "When the public mourning was over, and the fortieth day completed, the king asked counsel of the officers of state, saying, 'What is next to be done?' They all said, 'Nothing else can be done; but in order to console your majesty's mind, and inspire it with patience, to put the girl and her father to death, and confiscate their property.' When this punishment of me and mine was determined on, the magistrate received orders [to put it in execution]; he came and surrounded my house [with guards] on all sides and sounded a trumpet at the gate, and was about to enter in order to execute the king's orders. From some hidden quarter, such showers of stones and bricks were poured on them that the whole band could not stand against it, and covering their faces, they were dispersed hither and thither; and these dreadful sounds issued, which even the king himself heard in his palace; 'What misfortune impels thee! what demon possesses thee! if thou desirest thy welfare, molest not that fair one, or else the fate that thy son met with by marrying her, thou shalt experience the like doom by being her foe; if thou now molestest her, thou wilt rue its consequences.' "The king fell into a fever through fear, and instantly ordered that 'No one should molest these evil-fated persons; to say nothing to them, to hear nothing from them, but to let them remain in their house, and that no one should injure or oppress them.' From that day, the magicians, conceiving this mysterious event to be witchcraft, have used all their exorcising arts and spells to destroy its effects; and all the inhabitants of this city read [prayers] from the glorious _Kur,an_, and pronounced the great name of God. It is a long while since this awful scene took place, but to this day the mysterious secret has not been developed, nor do I know anything about it; I once asked the girl what she had seen with her own eyes; she replied, I know nothing more than that when my husband wished to consummate our marriage, I saw the roof instantly open, and a throne set with precious stones descended through the aperture, on which was seated a handsome young man dressed in princely robes, and many persons in attendance upon him, came into that apartment; and were ready to put the prince to death. That young man came up to me and said, "Well, my love, where to will you now escape from me?" They had the appearance of men, but with feet like goats; my heart palpitated, and I fainted through fear; I do not know what afterwards happened.' "From that period we have both thus lived in this ruined place; and from the fear of offending the king, all our friends have forsaken us; when I go out to beg, no one gives me a _kauri_; moreover, it is not allowed me even to stand before their shops; this unfortunate girl has not a rag to cover her nakedness, nor sufficient food to satisfy her hunger. From God I only pray for this, that our deaths should ensue, or that the earth may open out and swallow this ill-fated girl: death is better than such existence; God has perhaps sent thee here for our good; so that thou tookest pity on us, and gave us a piece of gold, which has enabled us to have good food and clothes for my daughter. God be praised, and blessed be thou; if she was not under the influence of some _jinn_ or fairy, then I would give her for thy service like a slave, and think myself happy. This is my wretched story; do not think of her, but abandon all thoughts on that head." After hearing this sad narrative, I entreated the old man to accept me as his son-in-law, and if evil be my future doom, then let it come; but the old man would on no account agree to my request. When the evening came, I took my leave of him, and went to the _sarai_. _Mubarak_ said, "Well, prince, rejoice, God has favoured you, and your labours are not thrown away." I answered, "I have to-day used many fair speeches, but that infidel old man will not consent; God knows if he will give her to me or not." My mind was in such a state that I passed the night in great restlessness, and wished the morning was come that I might return [and see her]; I sometimes fancied, that if the father should be kind and agree to my wishes, _Mubarak_ would carry her away for _Maliki Sadik_. I then said to myself, "Well, let us once get possession of her; I will then get over _Mubarak_, and enjoy her." Again my heart was filled with apprehensions, that even if _Mubarak_ should likewise agree to my project, the _jinns_ would serve me as they had served the prince; moreover the king of this city will never consent, that after the murder of his son, another should enjoy [his bride]. I passed the whole night without sleep, agitated by this project. When the day appeared, I issued forth, and went to the _chauk_, and purchased some pieces of fine cloth and lace, and fresh and dried fruits; and carried them to the old man. He was greatly pleased, and said, "That to every one nothing is dearer than life, but even if my life could be of any use to thee, I would not grieve to sacrifice it, and give thee now my daughter; but I fear that by doing so, I might endanger thy life, and the stain of this reproach would remain upon me to the day of judgment." I answered, "I am now in this city, helpless, it is true, and you are my father in every respect, temporal and spiritual, but [consider] what pains, fatigues and miseries I have undergone, and what buffetings I have for a long while suffered to attain the object of my wishes, before I arrived here. God has likewise made you kind towards me, since you consent to marry her to me, and only hesitate on account of my safety; be just for a moment, and reflect that to save our heads from the sword of love, and screen our lives from its danger, is not commendable in any religion; let what will happen, I have lost myself in every way; and to possess the object of my love, I consider as my existence. I do not care if I live or perish; moreover, despair will finish my days without the assistance of fate, and I will stand forth as your accuser on the day of judgment." In short, in such altercations, in hesitations between refusal and acquiescence, a tedious month passed heavily over my head, accompanied with future hopes and fears; I used every day to devote my services to the old man, and every day, with flattering speeches, I entreated him [to grant my boon]. It came to pass, that the old man fell sick; I attended him during his illness; I used always to relate his case to the physician, and whatever medicine he ordered, I used to get them, and administer them to him; I used to dress with my own hand his rice and pulse and other light diet, and gave it to him to eat. One day he was [uncommonly] kind, and said, "O young man, thou art very obstinate; I have repeatedly told thee of all the evils which will ensue if thou persistest in thy object, and have often warned thee not to think of it. Whilst we have life, we have every thing, but thou art determined to jump into the abyss; well, I will to-day mention thee to my daughter; let us hear what she says." O holy _Darweshes_, on hearing these enchanting words, I swelled so with joy, that my clothes could scarce contain me; I fell at the old man's feet, and exclaimed, "You have now laid the foundation of my [future happiness and] existence." I then took my leave and returned to my abode, I passed the whole night in talking of this circumstance with _Mubarak_; where was sleep, and where was hunger! Early in the morning I again went and saluted the old man; he said, "Well, I give you my daughter--God bless you with her--I have put you both under his protection--whilst I have life, stay with me; when my eyes are closed, then do what you wish; you will then be master of your own actions." A few days after [this conversation], the old man died; we mourned for him and buried him. After the _tija_, [395] _Mubarak_ brought this beautiful daughter to the _serai_ in a _doli_, [396] and said to me, "She belongs, [pure and untouched], to _Maliki Sadik_; beware you do not play false, and lose the fruits of your labour." I replied, "O friend, what has _Maliki Sadik_ to do here? my heart will not mind me, and how can I have patience? let what will happen, whether I live or perish, let me now enjoy her." _Mubarak_, having lost all patience, replied, with anger, "Do not act like a boy; now, in an instant, matters will change dreadfully; do you think _Maliki Sadik_ far off, that you disregard his injunctions? He explained every circumstance to you on taking leave, and warned you of the consequences; if you act according to his directions, and convey her safe and sound to him, he has a royal mind, and may regard the toils you have undergone with a favourable eye, and give her to you; how different will the case be then! you will preserve his unbounded friendship, and gain the sincere affection [of your mistress]." At last, [from the force of his] threats and admonitions, I remained silent; I bought two camels, and mounting on _kajawas_, [397] we set out for the country of _Maliki Sadik_. We pursued our journey, and at last reached a plain, where loud noises were heard. _Mubarak_ exclaimed, "God be praised, our labours have turned out well, for lo! the army of _jinns_ is here arrived." He met them at last, and asked them where they intended to go. They replied, "The king has sent us forward for the purpose of receiving you, and we are now under your orders; if you command us, we will convey you in a moment to the presence [of the king]." _Mubarak_, turning to me, said, "See how, after all our toils and dangers, God has favoured us before the face of the king; what is the need of haste now? if some misconduct should occur, which God forbid, then the fruits of our labours would be lost, and we should fall under the king's displeasure." They all answered, "You are the sole master in this; proceed as you please." Although we were comfortable in every way, yet we made it our business to march day and night. When we approached [the place where the king was], I, seeing _Mubarak_ asleep, fell at that beautiful woman's feet, and bewailing to her the restless state of my heart, and my helpless condition, owing to the threats of _Maliki Sadik_, and that from the day I had seen her picture, I had forsworn sleep and food and repose; and now that God had shewn to me this day, I still remained an utter stranger to her. She replied, "My heart is also inclined towards you, for what toils and dangers have you undergone for my sake, and with what labour and difficulty have you brought me away; remember God, and do not forget me; let us see what may be revealed from behind the curtain of mystery." On saying this, she wept so loud that she was nearly suffocated. Such was my state, and such was hers! In the meantime, _Mubarak's_ slumbers were broken, and seeing us both in tears, he was greatly affected, and said, "Be comforted; I have an ointment which I will rub over the body of this fair one; from the smell of it the heart of _Maliki Sadik_ will be disgusted, and he will perhaps abandon her to you." On hearing this plan of _Mubarak's_, my heart was greatly revived; and, embracing him fondly, I said, "O friend, you are now in the place of a father to me; owing to you my life was saved, now also act so that I may still live on, otherwise I must perish in this grief." He gave me every friendly assurance. When the day appeared, we heard the noise of the _jinns_, and saw that many personal attendants of _Maliki Sadik_ were arrived, and had brought two rich _khil'ats_ for us, and a covered litter with a network of pearls accompanied them. _Mubarak_ rubbed the ointment over my beloved's body; and having caused her to be richly dressed, he conveyed her to _Maliki Sadik_. On beholding her, the king rewarded me greatly, and having honoured and dignified me, he made me sit down [near himself], and said, "I will behave to thee such as no one has as yet done to any one; the kingdom of thy father awaits thee, besides which thou art in the place of a son to me." He was talking to me in this gracious manner, when the beautiful woman appeared before him, and suddenly at the smell of that ointment, his brain became confused, and his mind distracted; he could not endure that smell; having got up, he went out and called _Mubarak_ and me; he addressed himself to _Mubarak_, and said, "Well, sir, you have truly performed the injunctions [I gave]. "I had warned you, that if you deceived me, you would incur my displeasure; what smell is this? now see how I will treat you." He was very angry; _Mubarak_, from fear, opened his trowsers, and showed his condition, [398] and said, "Mighty king, when I undertook this business, according to your commands, I then cut off my privities, and put them in a box, sealed it, and delivered it over in charge to your treasurer, and putting some ointment of Solomon on the mutilated parts, I set out on the errand." On hearing this reply from _Mubarak_, the king of the _jinns_ looked sternly at me, and said, "Then, this is thy doing;" and getting into a rage, he began to abuse me. I immediately perceived from his words that he would put me to death. When I felt convinced of this from his looks, despairing of life, I became desperate, and snatching the dagger from _Mubarak's_ waist, I plunged it into the king's belly; on receiving the stab, he bent down and staggered; I wondered, for I thought he must assuredly have perished; I then perceived that the wound was not so effective as I imagined, and could not account for it; I was staring [with surprise] when he rolled on the ground, and assuming the appearance of a tennis ball, he flew up to the sky. He ascended so high, that at last he disappeared; a moment after, flashing like lightning, and vociferating some meaningless words in his rage, he descended, and gave me such a kick, that I swooned away, and fell flat on my back, and became as one lifeless. God knows how long I remained ere I came to my senses; but when I opened my eyes I saw that I was lying in such a wilderness, where, except thorns and briars, nothing else was to be seen; at that moment my understanding was of no avail to fix on what I should do, or where I should go. In this state of despondence, I gave a sigh, and followed the first path that offered; if I met any one any where, I inquired after the name of _Maliki Sadik_; he, thinking me mad, answered that he had not even heard his name. One day, having ascended a mountain, I likewise determined to throw myself [off its summit], and end my existence; just as I was ready to jump off, the same veiled horseman, the possessor of _Zu-l-fakar_, [399] appeared and said, "Why do you throw away your life; man is exposed to every pain and misery; your unhappy days are now over, and your propitious ones are coming; go quickly to _Rum_--three afflicted persons like thee are gone there before thee--meet them, and see the king of that country; the wishes of all five will be fulfilled in the same place." This is my story which I have just related; at last, from the happy tidings of our difficulty-solving guardian, [400] I am come into the presence of your worships, and have also been kindly received by the king, who is the shadow of Omnipotence; we ought all now to be comforted." This conversation was passing between the king _Azad Bakht_ and the four _Darweshes_, when a eunuch came running from the royal seraglio and with respectful salutation, wished his majesty joy, and added, "This moment a prince is born, before whose refulgent beauty the sun and moon are abashed." The king was surprised, and asked, "No one was pregnant [401] in appearance; who has brought forth a son?" The eunuch replied, "_Mahru_, the female slave, who for some time hath lain under your majesty's displeasure, and lived like an outcast in a corner [of the seraglio], and no one from fear ever went near her or asked after her state; on her the grace of God hath been such, that she hath borne a son like the moon." The king was so rejoiced, that he nearly expired from excessive joy; the four _Darweshes_ also blessed him, and said, "May thy house be ever happy, and may thy son prosper; and may he grow up under thy shadow." The king replied, "This is owing to your propitious arrival, for otherwise I had no idea of such an event; if you give me leave, I will go and see him." The _Darweshes_ answered, "In the name of God, go." The king went to the seraglio, and took the young prince in his lap, and thanked God; his mind became easy; pressing the infant to his bosom, he brought it and laid it at the _Darweshes'_ feet; they blessed it, and exorcised all evil spirits from approaching it. The king commanded the preparations of a festival to be made [on the happy occasion], and the royal music struck up, and the door of the treasury was opened; with princely donations he made the poor [402] rich; on all the officers of state he bestowed a two-fold increase of lands and higher titles, and to the army he gave five years' pay as a present; to the learned and holy he gave pensions and lands; and the wallets of the beggars were filled with pieces of gold and silver; and the _ryots_ [403] were excused from paying any revenue for three years, and that whatever they cultivated during this period, they should keep for themselves. Throughout the whole city, in the houses of the high and the low, wherever one looked, there were merry dances; in their joy, every one, small and great, felt himself a prince. In the midst of these rejoicings, the sounds of lamentation and weeping issued suddenly from the seraglio; the female servants, of all descriptions, and the eunuchs, ran out, scattering dust upon their heads, and said to the king, "When we had washed and bathed the prince, and delivered him to the bosom of the nurse, a cloud descended from the sky and enveloped the nurse; a moment after, we saw the nurse prostrate and senseless, and the little prince gone; what a dreadful calamity has occurred!" The king was thunderstruck on hearing this wonderful occurrence; and the whole country mourned [for the sad event]; for two days no one dressed any victuals, but fed on their grief, and drank their own blood, for the prince's loss. In short, they began to despair of their lives, living in this manner; on the third day the same cloud appeared, and a cradle studded with jewels, and with a covering of pearls, descended from it into the area of the seraglio; the cloud then disappeared, and the servants found the little prince in the cradle sucking his thumb; the royal mother immediately invoking blessings upon him, took him up in her arms, and pressed him fondly to her bosom; she saw that he was dressed in a jacket of fine muslin embroidered with pearls, and had a child's bib of brocade, and many ornaments set with jewels on his hands and feet, and a necklace with nine gems on his neck, and there was a child's rattle with golden balls placed by his side. Through joy all [the female attendants] were transported; and they began to offer up prayers, saying, "May all thy mother's wishes be gratified, and mayest thou attain a period of mature old age." The king ordered a new grand palace to be built and furnished with carpets, and kept the four _Darweshes_ in it; when he was disengaged from the affairs of state, he used to go there, sit with them, and to provide everything for them and wait on them; but on the first Thursday night of every month the same cloud descended, and took away the prince, and after keeping him two days, it used to bring him back, with such rich toys and rarities of every country, and of every description, in his cradle, that on beholding them, the minds of the spectators were confounded with astonishment. In this manner, the prince reached in safety his seventh year; on the birthday the king _Azad Bakht_ said to the _Darweshes_, "O holy men, I cannot conceive who carries the prince away and brings him back; it is very wonderful; let us see what will be the end of it." The _Darweshes_ said, "Do one thing; write a friendly note to this purport, and put it into the prince's cradle, viz.:--'Having seen your friendship and kindness [to my son], my heart wishes most anxiously to meet you, and if by way of amity you favour me with your tidings, my heart will be highly gratified, and my wonder will cease.'" The king, according to the _Darweshes'_ advice, wrote a note to this purport on paper sprinkled with gold, and put it in the golden cradle. The prince, according to custom, disappeared; and in the evening _Azad Bakht_ was sitting with the _Darweshes_ and conversing with them, when a folded paper fell near the king; he opened it and read it, and found that it was an answer to his note; these two lines were written in it: "Conceive me likewise anxious to see you; a throne goes for you; it is best that you should come now, that we may meet; all the preparations of enjoyment are ready; your majesty's place alone is empty." The king _Azad Bakht_ took the _Darweshes_ with him, and ascended the celestial throne; it was like the throne of Solomon, and mounted into the air; proceeding on, it descended in a place where grand edifices and sumptuous preparations appeared; but it could not be perceived if any one was there or not. In the meantime some one rubbed the eyes of all five with the _surma_ of _Sulaiman_; two drops of tears fell from the eyes of each, and they saw an assembly of the fairies, who were waiting to receive them, dressed in rich habits of various colours, with vials of rose-water in their hands. _Azad Bakht_ advanced amidst two rows consisting of thousands of fairy-born creatures, standing in respectful order, and in the centre was placed an elevated throne inlaid with emeralds, on which was seated leaning on pillows, with an air of great dignity, _Malik Shah Bal_, the son of _Shah-rukh;_ a beautiful little girl of the fairy race was seated before him, and was playing with the young prince _Bakhtiyar_. Chairs and seats were arranged in rows on both sides of the throne, on which the nobles of the fairy race were seated. _Malik Shah Bal_ stood up on seeing the king _Azad Bakht_ and descended from his throne and embraced him, and taking him by the hand, he seated him on the throne by the side of himself, and they began to converse together with much cordiality; the whole day passed in feasting and hilarity, and music and dancing. The second day, when the two kings met, _Shah Bal_ asked _Azad Bakht_ the reason for bringing the _Darweshes_ with him. _Azad Bakht_ related fully their adventures as he had previously learned, and interceded for them, and asked [the king's] assistance, saying, "These have undergone many hardships, and suffered great misfortunes; and if now, through your favour, they attain their wishes, it will be an act of great merit, and I also will be grateful for it through life; by your kind assistance they will all reach the summit of their desires." _Malik Shah Bal_, after hearing [these adventures, replied, "Most willingly; I will not fail to obey your commands." Saying this, he looked sternly at the _divs_ and fairies [who were present], and he wrote letters to the great _jinns_, who were chiefs in different places, and ordered them, that on receiving his commands, they must repair speedily to the presence, and if any one should delay in coming, he should be punished, and brought as captive; and that whoever possessed any persons of the human species, male or female, he must bring them along with him; that if [a _jinn_] having concealed any one, should detain the same, and it be known hereafter, the concealer and his wife and family shall be exterminated, and no vestige of them will remain. Receiving these written orders, the _divs_ were dispatched in all directions. A great warmth of friendship arose between the two kings, and they passed their time in amicable conversation, amidst which _Malik Shah Bal_, turning round to the _Darweshes_, said, "I had a great wish to have children, and had resolved, if God gave me a son or a daughter, to marry it to the offspring of some king of the human race. After this resolve, I learned that my wife was pregnant; at last, after counting with anxiety each day and hour, the full period arrived, and this girl was born. According to my determination, I ordered the _jinns_ to search the four corners of the world, and that whatever king had a prince born to him, to bring the child quickly to me with care; agreeably to my orders, the _jinns_ flew instantly to the four corners of the earth, and after some delay, brought this young prince to me. "I thanked God, and took the child in my lap, and loved it dearer than my own daughter; I could not bring myself to separate him from my sight for a moment, but used to send him back for this reason, that if his parents did not see him, they would be greatly afflicted. For this reason I sent for him once every month, and after keeping him with me a few days, I sent him back. If it please God the Most High, now that we have met, I will marry them to each other; all are liable to death, then let us, whilst we are alive, see their marriage performed." The king _Azad Bakht_, on hearing this proposal of _Shah Bal's_, and seeing his amiable qualities, was greatly pleased and said, "At first the prince's disappearance and re-appearance raised very strange aprehensions in my breast, but I am now, from your conversation, easy in my mind, and perfectly satisfied; this son is now yours; do with him whatever you please." In short, the intercourse between the two kings was like that of sugar and milk, and they fully enjoyed themselves. In the space of less than ten days, mighty kings of the race of the _jinns_, from the rose garden of _Iram_, [404] and from mountains and islands, (to call whom the fairies had been dispatched) all arrived at the court [of _Shah Bal_]. In the first place, _Maliki Sadik_ was ordered to produce the human creature he had in his possession; he was much vexed at it, and sad, but having no remedy, he produced the rosy-cheeked fair one [the blind man's daughter]. Next, he demanded of the king of _'Umman_ [405] the daughter of one of the _jinns_ for whom the prince of _Nimroz_, the bull rider, went mad; he likewise made many excuses, but produced her at last. When the daughter of the king of the Franks and _Bihzad Khan_ were demanded, all present denied having any knowledge of them, and swore by Solomon [to that effect]. At last, when the king of the sea of _Kulzum_ was asked if he knew anything of them, he hung down his head, and remained silent. _Malik Shah Bal_ had a deference for him, and entreated him to give them up, and gave him hopes of future favour and even threatened him. Then he also joined his hands together, and said, "Please your majesty, the particulars of that circumstance are as follows:--When the king [of Persia] came to the river _Kulzum_ to meet his son, and the prince from eagerness plunged his horse into the flood, it chanced that I had gone out that day to roam about and to hunt. I passed by the place, and the cavalcade stopped to behold the scene. When the princess's mare carried her also into the stream, my looks met hers, and I was enchanted, and gave instant orders to the fairy race to bring her to me, together with the mare. _Bihzad Khan_ plunged in also after her on horseback; I admired his bravery and gallantry, and had him seized likewise; I took him with me, and returned home; so they are both safe, and with me." Saying this, he sent for them both before _Malik Shah Bal_. Great search had been made for the daughter of the king of Syria, and strict inquiries were put to all present, but no one acknowledged having her, or knowing anything about her. _Malik Shah Bal_ then asked if any king or chief was absent, and if all were arrived; the _jinns_ answered, "Mighty sire, all are present except one named _Musalsal Jadu_, who has erected a fort on the mountain _Kaf_ by the means of magic; he, from haughtiness, is not come, and we, your majesty's slaves, are not able to bring him by force; the place is strong, and he himself also is a great devil." On hearing this, _Malik Shah Bal_ was very angry, and an army of _jinns, 'afrits_ and fairies were sent with orders, that if he came of his own accord, and brought the princess with him, well and good, but otherwise subdue him, and bring him tied by the neck and heels, and raze his fort to the ground, and drive the plough, drawn by an ass, over it. Immediately, on the orders being given, such numbers of troops flew to the place, that in a day or two the rebellious haughty chief was brought in irons to the presence. _Malik Shah Bal_ repeatedly asked about the princess, but the haughty rebel gave no reply. The king at length got angry, and ordered him to be cut to pieces, and his skin stretched and filled with chaff; [406] a body of fairies were ordered to go to the mountain of _Kaf_, and search for the princess; they went and found her, and brought her to _Malik Shah Bal_. All these prisoners and the four _Darweshes_, seeing the strict orders and justice of the king _Shah Bal_, were greatly rejoiced, and admired him highly; the king _Azad Bakht_ was also much pleased. _Malik Shah Bal_ then ordered the men to the palace, and the women to the royal seraglio; the city was ordered to be illuminated, and the preparations for the marriages to be quickly completed; [all was instantly made ready], as if the order alone was wanted to be given. One day, a happy hour being fixed upon, the prince _Bakhtiyar_ was married to the princess _Roshan Akhtar_; and the young merchant of _Yaman_ [407] was married to the princess of _Dimashk_; and the prince of Persia [408] was married to the princess of _Basra_; and the prince of _'Ajam_ [409] was married to the princess of the Franks; _Bihzad Khan_ was married to the daughter of the king of _Nimroz_; and the prince of _Nimroz_ was married to the _jinn's_ daughter; and the prince of China [410] was married to the daughter of the old blind man of _Hindustan_; she who had been in the possession of _Maliki Sadik_. Through the favour of _Malik Shah Bal_, every hopeless person gained his desires, and obtained his wishes; afterwards, they all enjoyed themselves for forty days, and passed their time, night and day, in pleasures and festivity. At last, _Malik Shah Bal_ gave to each prince rich and rare presents, and dismissed them to their different countries. All were pleased and satisfied, and set out and reached their homes in safety, and began their reigns; but _Bihzad Khan_, and the merchant's son of _Yaman_, of their own accord, remained with the king _Azad Bakht_, and in the end the young merchant of _Yaman_ was made head steward to his majesty, and _Bihzad Khan_ generalissimo of the army of the fortunate prince _Bakhtiyar_; whilst they lived, they enjoyed every felicity. O God! as these four _Darweshes_ and the king _Azad Bakht_ attained their wishes, in like manner grant to all hopeless beings the wishes of their hearts, through thy power and goodness, and by the medium of the five pure bodies, [411] the twelve _Imams_, and the fourteen innocents, [412] on all of whom be the blessing of God! Amen, O God of the universe. When this book was finished, through the favour of God, I took it into my mind to give it such a name, that the date should be thereby found out. [413] When I made the calculation, I found that I had begun to compose this work in the end of the year of the _Hijra_ 1215, and owing to want of leisure, it was not finished until the beginning of the year 1217; I was reflecting on this circumstance, when it occurred to me that the words _Bagh O Bahar_ formed a proper title, as it answered to the date of the year when the work was finished; so I gave it this name. Whoever shall read it, he will stroll as it were through a garden; moreover, the garden is exposed to the blasts of winter, but this book is not; it will ever be in verdure. When this _Bagh O Bahar_ was finished, the year was 1217; do you now stroll through it night and day, as its name and date is _Bagh O Bahar_; the blasts of winter can do it no injury; for this _Bahar_ [414] is ever green and fresh; it hath been nourished with the blood of my heart, and its (the heart's) pieces are its leaves and fruits;--all will forget me after death;--but this book will remain as a _souvenir_; whoever reads it, let him remember me. This is my agreement with the readers; if there is an error, excuse it; for amidst flowers lie concealed the thorns; man is liable to faults and errors, and he will fail, let him be ever so careful. I have no other wish except this, and it is my earnest prayer. O my Creator, that I may ever remain in remembrance of Thee, and thus pass my nights and days! That I may not be questioned with severity on the night of death, and the day of reckoning! O God, in both worlds shower thy favours on me, through the mediation of the great prophet! SUPPLEMENTAL NOTE It must be allowed, that the author has displayed great adroitness in the "denouement" of his tale. In the course of a few pages all the principal characters, male and female, are suddenly produced, safe and unscathed, before the reader. To be sure, this is done by the aid of a little "diablerie," but then it is done very neatly,--much more so than in some of the clumsy fictions of the late Ettrick Shepherd, to say nothing of the edifying legends about the Romish saints which the good people of southern Europe are taught to swallow as gospel. Finally, be it remembered, that Oriental story-tellers have never subscribed to Horace's precept,-- "Nec deus interait, nisi digens vindice nodus Inciderit" On the contrary, their rule is, when, by a free use of the supernatural, you have got the whole of your characters into a regular _fix_, it is but fair that you should get them off by the same means. THE END. NOTES [1] The proclamation of the Marquis Wellesley, after the formation of the college of Fort William; encouraging the pursuit of Oriental literature among the natives by original compositions and translations from the Persian, &c, into _Hindustani_. [2] "The _Bagh O Bahar_," i.e. "The Garden and Spring;" which may be better called, "The Garden of Spring," or the "Garden of Beauty." The less appropriate title of "_Bagh O Bahar_" was chosen merely in order that the Persian letters composing these words, might, by their numerical powers, amount to 1217, the year of the Hijra in which the book was finished.--Vide Hind. Gram., page 20. [3] _Mir Amman_ himself explains the origin and derivation of these words in his preface, and we cannot appeal to a better authority. [4] Literally, "in consequence of its being traversed or walked over." [5] _Hakim Firdausi_, the Homer of Persia, who wrote the history of that country, in his celebrated epic entitled the "_Shah-nama,"_ or Book of Kings. [6] I have translated into plain prose all the verses occurring in the original. I have not the vanity to think myself a poet; and I have a horror of seeing mere doggrel rhymes--such as the following-- "Mighty toil I've borne for years thirty, I have revived Persia by this _Pursi_." These elegant effusions are of the "Non hominies, non Dî, &c." description. [7] That is to say, he has introduced the elegance and correctness of the _Urdu_ language, or that of the Upper Provinces, into _Bengal_. In fact, the _Bengalis_ who speak a wretched jargon of what they are pleased to call _Hindustani_, (in addition to their native tongue,) would scarcely be understood at _Agra_ or _Dilli_; and those two cities are the best sites to acquire the real _Urdu_ in perfection; there the inhabitants speak it not only correctly but elegantly. [8] The Muhammadans believe that the body of their prophet cast no shadow. _Mustafa_ means "The Chosen," "The Elected," one of Muhammad's titles. [9] As a general rule, all Muhammadan books begin with a few sentences devoted to the praise of God and the eulogy of the prophet Muhammad; to which some add a blessing on the twelve _Imams_. [10] The twelve _Imams_ are the descendants of the prophet, by his daughter _Fatima_, who was married to her cousin-german _'Ali,_ who is considered as the first _Imam_; the other eleven were the following, viz., _Hasan_, the son of _'Ali; Husain_, the son of _'Ali_; _'Ali_, surnamed _Zainu-l-'Abidin,_ son of _Husain; Muhammad_, son of the last mentioned; _Ja'far Sadik_, son of _Muhammad; Musa-l-Kazim,_ son of _Ja'far; 'Al-i Raza_, son of _Musa; Muhammad_, son of _'Ali Raza; 'Ali 'Askari_, son of _Muhammad; Hasan 'Askari_: and lastly _Muhammad Mahdi_. With regard to this last and twelfth _Imam_, some say, very erroneously, that he is yet to appear. Now the fact is, the twelfth _Imam_ has appeared. He lived and died like the rest of the sainthood; otherwise what would be the use of praying for him? The Muhammadans offer up prayers for the dead, but I never heard of their praying for the unborn. [11] [12] Much nonsense has been written about this _Fasli_ aera. We are told that "it dates from the Christian year 592 3/4"! but the fact is that it was established no further back than the reign of Akbar. It was engrafted on the Hijri aera in the first year of that monarch's reign, with this proviso, that the _Fasli_ years should thenceforth go on increasing by _solar_ calculation, and not by lunar; hence, every century the Hijri aera gains three years on the _Fasli_, and in Mir Amman's time the difference had amounted to nearly eight years. [13] A _ghat_ is a long flight of steps, of stone or brick, leading to a river for the purpose of bathing, drawing water, embarking or disembarking. It is a high object of ambition in India, among the wealthier classes of natives, to construct these _ghats_, and this species of useful ostentation has produced some magnificent structures of the kind on the rivers _Ganges_, and _Jumna_, which are of great public utility. [14] The reader will do well in the first place to pass over this very clumsy parenthesis in the original; and return to it after he has finished the rest of the paragraph. [15] The Honourable Company's European servants, civil, military, and medical. [16] A celebrated Persian poet of _Dilli_; his odes are very elegant, and have great poetical genius; he was, as a Persian poet, inferior to none: he is the original author of this "Tale of the Four Darwesh." [17] The author seems to use _Dilli_ or _Dihli_ indifferently for the northern metropolis of India, vulgarly called _Delhi_. [18] _Zari Zar-bakhsh_ means the bestower of gold; _Nizamu-d-Din Auliya_ was a famous holy personage of Upper India, and holds the first rank in the list of the saints of _Hindustan_. His shrine is at _Dilli_, and resorted to by thousands of devotees, and many tales are told of his inspired wisdom, his superior beneficence, his contempt of the good things of this world, and his uncommon philanthropy. [19] The _Kos_ is a measure of distance nearly equal to two English miles, but varying in different provinces. [20] The _Muhammadans_, after being cured of sickness or wounds, also their women, after recovery from child-bed, always bathe in luke-warm water; which is called the ablution of cure. [21] A mere novice in the language would say that _Mir Amman_ writes "bad grammar" here! He uses the singular pronoun "_wuh_" instead of "_we_." Now _Mir Amman_ distinctly tells us that he gives us the language _as it is_. He did not make it--and, furthermore, nothing is more common among _Hindustani_ writers than to use the singular for the plural, and "vice versâ."--Vide Grammar, page 114. [22] Mr. Ferdinand Smith adds the following note: "How proud the slave seems of his chains!--but such is the nature of Asiatic minds, under the baneful influence of Asiatic despotism." Now, this criticism is absurd enough. Have not we in England the titles of "Ladies in waiting," "Grooms," &c., innumerable, which honours are borne by our nobility and gentry? [23] The family of _Taimur_, or Tamerlane; a pageant of which royal race still sits on the throne of _Dilli_, under the protection of the British government. He is happier, and has more comforts of life, than his family have had for the last century. [24] Literally, "why explain that which is self evident" a Persian saying. [25] The founder of the _Jut_ principality; they were once very powerful in _Upper-Hindustan. Ranjit Sing, Raja_ of _Bhartpur_ at the commencement of the present century, who so gallantly defended that place against our arms, was a son of _Suraj Mal_, who was killed while reconnoitring the _Mughal_ army. The _Jats_ are the best agriculturists in India, and good soldiers in self defence; for since the spirit which _Suraj Mal_ infused, evaporated, they have always preferred peace to war. They built some of the strongest places in India. [26] _Ahmad Khan_, the _Durrani_ or _Afghan_, became king of _Kabul_ after the death of _Nadir Shah_. He was the father of _Taimur Shah_, who kept _Upper Hindustan_ in alarm for many years with threats of invasion. _Shuja'u-l-Mulk_, whom we seated on the throne of _Kabul_ some fifteen years ago, was descended from him. [27] _'Azim-abid_ is the _Muhammadan_ name of _Patna_. On the _Muhammadan_ conquest, many of the _Hindu_ names of cities were changed for _Muhammadan_ names, such as _Jahangir-abad_ or _Jahangir-nagar_ for _Dacca, Akbar-abad_ for _Agra, Shahjahan-abad_ for _Dilli_, &c. [28] Literally, "water and grain." [29] Literally, "has existed during the four _jugas_," or fabulous ages of the _Hindus_, i.e., since the creation of the world. [30] The _Bhakha_, or _Bhasha_, par excellence, is the _Hindu_ dialect spoken in the neighbourhood of _Agra, Mathura_, &c. in the _Braj_ district; it is a very soft language, and much admired in _Upper Hindustan_, and is well adapted for light poetry. Dr. Gilchrist has given some examples of it in his grammar of the _Hindustani_ language, and numerous specimens of it are to be found in the _Prem Sagar_, and other works published more recently. [31] _Mahmud_, the first monarch of the dynasty of _Ghazni_, was the son of the famous _Sabaktagin_. Ha invaded _Hindustan_ in A.H. 392, or A.D. 1002. The dynasty was called _Ghaznawi_, from its capital _Ghazna_, or as now commonly written _Ghazni_. [32] Two dynasties of kings who reigned in _Upper Hindustan_ before the race of _Taimur_. [33] _Timur_, (or _Taimur_ as it is pronounced in India) invaded _Hindustan_ A.D. 1398. [34] The _bazar_, that part of a city where there are most shops; but the word is applied to various parts of a city, where various articles are sold, as the cloth _bazar_, the jewel _bazar_, &c. [35] _Shahjahan_ was the most magnificent king of _Dilli_, of the race of _Taimur, Sahib Kiran_ was one of his titles, and means, Prince of the Happy Conjunction; i.e. the conjunction of two or more auspicious planets in one of the signs of the Zodiac at the hour of birth. Such was the case at the birth of _Taimur_, who was the first we read of as _Sahib-Kiran_. As a contradistinction, _Shahjahan_ is generally called _Sahib Kirani Sani_, or the second _Sahib Kiran_. It never waw applied, as Ferdinand Smith states, to _all_ the emperors of _Dilli_. It may be mentioned, that a very extraordinary conjunction of the planets in the sign Libra took place in A.D. 1185, just about the period of _Jangis Khan's_ appearance as a conqueror; but I am not aware that he was thence called a _Sahib Kiran_, as he did not happen to be _born_ under the said conjunction. [36] The fort, or rather fortified place, of _Dilli_, and the great mosque, called the _Juma' Masjid_. [37] The famous _Takhti Ta,us_, or peacock throne, made by the magnificent _Shahjahan_, the richest throne in the world; it was valued at seven millions sterling. Tavernier, the French jeweller and traveller, saw it and describes it in his work. It was carried away by _Nadir Shah_ when he plundered _Dilli_ in 1739. [38] The expensive and useless canal which brought fresh water to _Dilli_, whilst the limpid and salutary stream of the _Jumna_ flowed under its walls. The advantages of irrigation to the country, through which it passed, were nothing compared to the expense of its construction. [39] Literally, "the supreme camp or market." [40] A Persian expression. [41] _Shah 'Alam_ the emperor of _Dilli_, was then towards _Patna_ a tool in the hands of _Shuja'u-d-Daula, the Nawwab_ of _Lakhnau, and Kasim 'Ala Khan, the Nawwab_ of _Murshid-abad._ [42] Alluding to the confusion which reigned in _Upper Hindustan_ after the assassination of _'Alamgir_ the Second, and the flight of _Shah 'Alam. Upper Hindustan_ was then in a sad plight, ravaged alternately by the _Abdalis_, the _Marhattas_, and the _Jats_--the king a pageant, the nobles rebellious, the subjects plundered and oppressed, and the country open to every invader--though this was near 100 years ago, and although they had some government, justice, and security from 1782 to 1802, yet the country had not even then recovered from the severe shock. [43] The word is used in the singular, both by _Mir Amman_ and the original author, _Amir Khusru_ according to a well-known rule in Persian syntax, viz., "a substantive accompanied by a numerical adjective dispenses with the plural termination," as "_haft roz_," "seven days," not "_haft rozha_. The Persian term _darwesh_, in a general sense, denotes a person who has adopted what by extreme courtesy is called a religious life, closely akin to the "mendicant friar" of the middle ages; i.e., a lazy, dirty, hypocrital vagabond, living upon the credulous public. The corresponding term in Arabic is _Fakir_; and in _Hindi_, _Jogi_. [44] The word _Rum_ means that empire of which Constantinople is the capital, and sometimes called, in modern times, Romania. It was originally applied to the Eastern Roman Empire, and, at present, it denotes Turkey in Europe and Asia. [45] _Naushirwan_ was a king of Persia, who died in A.D. 578. He is celebrated in oriental history for his wisdom and justice. During his reign _Muhammad_ the prophet was born. The Persian writings are full of anecdotes of _Naushirwan's_ justice and wisdom. [46] _Hatim_ or rather _Hatim Tai_, is the name of an Arab chief, who is celebrated for his generosity and his mad adventures, in an elegant Persian work called _Kissae Hatim Tai_. This work was translated into English for the Asiatic Translation Fund in 1830. [47] Called also _Kustuntuniya_ by the Persians, and _Istambol_, also _Islambol_, by the Turks. [48] The _shabi barat_ is a Mahometan festival which happens on the full moon of the month of _Sha'ban_; illuminations are made at night, and fire-works displayed; prayers are said for the repose of the dead, and offerings of sweetmeats and viands made to their manes. A luminous night-scene is therefore compared to the _shabi barat_. [49] I warrant you there were no "tickets of leave" granted in those blessed days. [50] This means an impertinent, or rather a _chaffing_, question, like our own classic interrogation, "Does your mother know you'ra out?" [51] It is incumbent on every good _Musalman_ to pray five times in the twenty-four hours. The stated periods are rather capriciously settled:--1st. The morning prayer is to be repeated between daybreak and sunrise; 2nd. The prayer of noon, when the sun shows a sensible declination from the meridian; 3rd. The afternoon prayer, when the sun is near the horizon that the shadow of a perpendicular object is twice it's length; 4th. The evening prayer, between sunset and close of twilight; 5th. The prayer of night, any time during the darkness. The inhabitants of Iceland and Greenland would find themselves sadly embarrassed in complying with these pious precepts, bequeathed by _Muhammad_ to the _true believers_, as they call themselves. [52] The Asiatics consider _male_ children as the light or splendour of their house. In the original there is a play upon the word "_diya_" which, as a substantive signifies "a lamp;" and as a verbal participle it denotes "given," or "bestowed." [53] The literal meaning is--"There is no one as the bearer of his name, and the giver of water." [54] The Mirror Saloon, called by the Persians, and from them by the _Hindustanis, Shish Mahall_, is a grand apartment in all oriental palaces, the walls of which are generally inlaid with small mirrors, and their borders richly gilded. Those of _Dilli_ and _Agra_ are the finest in _Hinduistan_. [55] "The messenger was the white hair in his majesty's whiskers. [56] Called in the original, _Pain Bagh_. Most royal Asiatic gardens have a _Pain Bagh_ or lower terrace adorned with flowers, to which princes descend when they wish to relax with their courtiers. [57] The _Diwani' Amm_, or Public Hall of Audience in eastern palaces, is a grand saloon where Asiatic princes hold a more promiscuous court than in the _Diwani Khass_, or the Private Hall of Audience. [58] The _Musalla_, is generally in Persia a small carpet, but frequently a fine mat in _Hindustan_, which is spread for the performance of prayer. The devotee kneels and prostrates himself upon it in his act of devotion. It is superfluous to remark that the _Muhammadans_ pray with their face turned towards _Mecca_, as far as they can guess its direction. Jerusalem was the original point, but the prophet, (it is said,) in a fit of anger, changed it to _Mecca_. [59] _Khiradmand_ means wise; as a man's name it corresponds to our "Mr. Wiseman," or as the French have it "Monsieur le Sage." It does not necessarily follow, however, that every Mr. Wiseman is a sage. [60] The _Diwani Khass_, or Private Hall of Audience, is a grand saloon, where only the king's privy councillors or select officers of state are admitted to an audience. [61] As Asiatic princes in general pass the most part of their time in the _haram_ or in seclusion, eunuchs are the usual carriers of messages, &c. [62] The posture of respect, as to stand motionless like a statue, the eyes fixed on the ground, and the arms crossed over the waist. [63] Literally, "rings or circles had formed round his eyes, and his visage had turned yellow." The term "yellow" is used among the dark-complexioned people of the East in the same sense as our word "pale," or the Latin "pallidus," to indicate fear, grief, &c. [64] The Asiatics reckon the animal species at 18,000; a number which even the fertile genius of Buffon has not attained. Yet the probability is, that the orientals arc nearer the true mark; and the wonder is, how they acquired such correct ideas on the subject. [65] There is a well-known Eastern saying, that, "On the part of a king, one hour's administration of justice will be of more avail to him on the day of judgment than twenty years of prayer." [66] Literally, "_Fakirs_ and _Jogis_;" either term denotes "hermit" the former being applied to a _Musalman_, the latter to a _Hindu_. [67] In India, the day was formerly divided into four equal portions, called _pahars_ or watches, of which the second terminated at noon; hence, _do-pahar-din_, mid-day. In like manner was the night divided; hence, _do-pahar-rat_, midnight. The first _pahar_ of the day began at sunrise, and of the night at sunset; and since the time from sunrise to noon made exactly two _pahars_, it follows that in the north of India the _pahar_ must have varied from three and a-half hours about the summer solstice, to two and a-half in winter, the _pahars_ of the night varying inversely. A shallow commentator has said that "the _pahar_ or watch is three hours, and that the day commences at six a.m.," which is altogether incorrect. [68] The _Naubat-khana_, or the royal orchestra, is, in general, a large room over the outer gate of the palace for the martial music. [69] _Nazars_, presents made to kings, governors, and masters, &c., on joyful occasions, and on public festivals, generally in silver and gold. [70] Literally, "when two _pahars_ had elapsed."--V. note on _pahar_, supra. [71] "On them," i.e., for the souls of the dead. [72] A celebrated _Hindu_ poet of Upper _Hindustan_; his poetry is of a sombre hue, but natural and sympathetic; the simile here is, that no creature has yet survived the pressure of the heavens and the earth; the heavens, being in motion, representing the upper millstone, and the earth (supposed to be at rest), the lower millstone. [73] A figurative expression, denoting, "I may yet have a son and heir." [74] _Fakirs_ are holy mendicants, who devote themselves to the expected joys of the next world, and abstract themselves from those of this silly transitory scene; they are generally fanatics and enthusiasts--sometimes mad, and often hypocrites. They are much venerated by the superstitious Asiatics, and are allowed uncommon privileges, which they naturally often abuse. [75] The _kafni_ is a kind of short shirt without sleeves, of the colour of brick dust, which _Fakirs_ wear. [76] Literally, "paintings on a wall." [77] The _fanus_ is a large glass shade open at the top, placed over a lamp or candle as a protection from wind, or bats, &c., when the windows are all open, as is generally the case in hot weather. [78] The _Dev_ is a malignant spirit, one of the class called _jinn_ by the Arabs, vide Lane's "Arabian Nights," vol. i. p. 30. The _jinn_ or genii, however, occasionally behave very handsomely towards the human race, more especially towards those of the _Muhammadan_ faith. [79] The _Ghul_ is a foul and intensely wicked spirit, of an order inferior to the _jinn_. It is said to appear in the form of any living animal it chooses, as well as in any other monstrous and terrific shape. It haunts desert places, especially burying grounds, and is said to feed on dead human bodies. [80] This is a general exclamation when Asiatics sneeze, and with them, as with the ancients, it is an ominous sign. [81] _Kalandars_ are a more fanatic set of _Fakirs_. Their vow is to desert wife, children, and all worldly connexions and human sympathies, and to wander about with shaven heads. [82] The introduction of the _hukka_ is an improvement of _Mir Amman's_; as that luxury was unknown in Europe and Asia at the time of _Amir Khusru_. [83] The term _Azad_, "free, or independent," is applied to a class of Darweshes who shave the beard, eyelashes and eyebrows. They vow chastity and a holy life, but consider themselves exempt from all ceremonial observances of the _Muhammadan_ religion. [84] Literally, "is an immense mountain." [85] The phrase _do zanu ho baithna_ denotes a mode of sitting peculiar, more especially, to the Persians. It consists in kneeling down and sitting back on one's heels, a posture the very reverse of _easy_, at least, so it appears to us good Christians, accustomed to the use of chairs &c. [86] Arabia Felix, the south-west province of the peninsula. [87] _Maliku-t-Tujjar_ means the chief of merchants; it is a Persian or Arab title. The first title the East India Company received from the court of _Dilli_ was _'Umdatu-t-Tujjar_, or the noble merchants. _Haji Khalil_, the ambassador from Persia to the Bengal government, who was killed at Bombay, was _Maliku-t-Tujjar_; and after him _Muhammad Nabi Khan_, who likewise was ambassador from the Persian court, and came to Bengal; he has since experienced the sad uncertainty of Asiatic despotism; being despoiled of his property, blinded, and turned into the streets of _Shiraz_ to beg. [88] The peculiar dress worn by _fakirs_. V. "_Qanooni Islam"_ [89] The _seli_, or _saili_, is a necklace of thread worn as a badge of distinction by a certain class of _fakirs_. [90] The fortieth day is an important period in _Muhammadan_ rites; it is the great day of rejoicing after birth, and of mourning after death. To dignify this number still more, sick and wounded persons are supposed, by oriental novelists, to recover and perform the ablution of cure on the fortieth day. The number "forty" figures much in the Sacred Scriptures, for example, "The flood was forty days upon the earth." The Israelites forty years in the wilderness, &c., &c. [91] The _Fatiha_ is the opening chapter of the _Kur,an_, which, being much read and repeated, denotes a short prayer or benediction in general. [92] This is the general mode of investiture in _Hindustan_ to offices, places, &c.; to which a _khil'at_, or honorary dress, is added. [93] That part of a dwelling where male company are received. [94] _Farrashes_ are servants whose duty it is to spread carpets, sweep them and the walls; place the _masnads_, and hang up the _pardas_ and _chicks_, pitch tents, &c. [95] _Pardas_ are quilted curtains, which hang before doors, &c. [96] _Chicks_ are curtains, or hanging screens, made of fine slips of _bamboos_, and painted and hung up before doors and windows, to prevent the persons inside from being seen, and to keep out insects; but they do not exclude the air, or the light from without. If there is no light in a room, a person may sit close to the _chick_, and not be seen by one who is without.--However, no description can convey an adequate idea of _pardas_ and _chicks_ to the mere European. [97] I hope the reader will pardon me for the use of this old-fashioned Scottish expression which conveys the exact meaning of the original, viz., "_muft par khane-pine-wale"_, i.e, "gentlemen who eat and drink at another's cost." The English terms, "parasites," or "diners out," do not fully express the meaning, though very near it. [98] Literally, "quaff the wine of the _Ketaki_, and pluck the flower of the rose." The _Ketaki_, a highly odoriferous flower, was used in giving fragrance to the wine. [99] A Persian proverb, like our own "Lightly come, lightly go." [100] A personage famed for his wealth, like the Croesus of the Greeks. [101] The reader will observe, in the original, that the terms _rah-bat_, a "highway," and _bhent-mulakat_, "a meeting," consist each of two nouns denoting precisely the same thing, only one of them is of _Musalman_ usage, and the other _Hindu_. Such expressions are very common in the language. [102] Literally, "black _takas_," or copper coins, in opposition to "white" or silver; an expression similar to what we, in the vernacular call "browns." [103] _Sharbat_ is a well-known oriental beverage, made in general with vegetable acids, sugar and water; sometimes of sugar and rose water only; to which ingredients some good _Musalmans_, on the sly, add a _leettle_ rum or brandy. [104] _Pulao_, (properly "_pilav_," as pronounced by the Persians and Turks,) is a common dish in the East. It consists of boiled rice well dried and mixed with eggs, cloves and other spices, heaped up on a plate, and inside of this savoury heap is buried a well-roasted fowl, or pieces of tender meat, such as mutton, &c.; in short, any good meat that may be procurable. [105] _Kabab_ is meat roasted or fried with spices; sometimes in small pieces, sometimes minced, sometimes on skewers, but never in joints as with us, though they make _kababs_ of a whole lamb or kid. [106] The _tora_ is a bag containing a thousand pieces (gold or silver). It is used in a collective sense, like the term _kisa_, or "purse," among the Persians and Turks; only the _kisa_ consists of five hundred dollars, a sum very nearly equal to 1000 _rupis_. [107] The word in the original is _Damishk_, an Indian corruption of the Arabic _Dimashk_, which latter mode of pronunciation I have followed in my printed edition. [108] The grand street where all the large shops are. In oriental towns of considerable size, there is generally a distinct _bazar_ for each species of goods, such as "the cloth _bazar_," "the jewellery _bazar_," &c. [109] The merchant would have rather a puzzling voyage of it, if he went by sea from Yaman to Damascus. [110] The sacred rupee, or piece of silver, is a coin which is dedicated to the _Imam Zamin,_ or "the guardian _Imam_, (a personage nearly allied to the guardian saint of a good Catholic), to avert evils from those who wear them tied on the arm, or suspended from the neck. [111] To mark the forehead with _tika_, or curdled milk, is a superstitious ceremony in _Hindustan_, as a propitious omen, on beginning a voyage or journey. It is probable that the _Musulmans_ of India borrowed this ceremony, among several others, from the _Hindus_. [112] Literally, "when half the night was on this side, and half on that." [113] The _dopatta_ is a large piece of cloth worn by women, which covers the head and goes round the body; the act of drawing her _dopatta_ over her face is mentioned as a proof of her modesty. Men likewise wear the _dopatta_ flung over the shoulders, or wrapped round the waist. It is often of gauze and muslin. [114] This is _Mir Amman's_ plain expression. Ferdinand Smith's translation savours somewhat of the Hibernian, viz., "She still loves him who has murdered her." [115] "The _ghari_ is the 60th part of 24 hours, or 24 of our minutes. It may be observed that the _ghari_ was a fixed quantity, not subject to variation, like the _pahar_, which last, in the north of India, was made to vary from seven to nine _gharies_, according to the season of the year, or as it referred to the day or night in the same season. Since the introduction of European watches and clocks, the term _ghari_ is applied to the Christian hour of sixty minutes. [116] Literally, "became such a mountain." [117] _'Isa_ is the name of Jesus among the _Muhammadans_; who all believe, (from the New Testament, transfused into the _Kuran_,) in the resurrection of Lazarus, and the numerous cures wrought by our Saviour. This, perhaps, induced _Mir Amman_ to call the wonder-performing barber and surgeon _'Isa_. [118] The Arabic expression is _salam 'alaikum_ or _'alaika_, i.e. "Peace be on you" or "on thee." This mode of greeting is used only towards _Musulmans_; and when it has passed between them, it is understood to be a pledge of friendly confidence and sincere good will. [119] The _nim_ is a large and common tree in India, the leaves of which are very bitter, and used as a decoction to reduce contusions and inflammations; also to cleanse wounds. [120] The spirit drawn from the leaves of an aromatic tree which grows in _Kashmir_, called _Bed-Mushk_; it is a tonic and exhilarating. [121] A humble deportment when addressing superiors in India; and through complaisance, used sometimes to equals. [122] An act of ceremony ever observed amongst the well-bred in India, when a visitor takes leave. _'Itr_ is the essence of any flower, more especially of the rose (by us corruptly called "otto of roses"); and _betel_ is a preparation of the aromatic leaf so generally used in the East, more especially in India. The moment they are introduced, it is a hint to the visitor to take leave. [123] The _khil'at_ is a dress of honour, in general a rich one, presented by superiors to inferiors. In the zenith of the _Mughal_ empire these _khil'ats_ were expensive honours, as the receivers were obliged to make rich presents to the emperor for the _khil'ats_ they received. The _khil'at_ is not necessarily restricted to a rich dress; sometimes, a fine horse, or splendid armour, &c., may form an item of it. [124] The word _pari_, "a fairy," is frequently used figuratively to denote a beautiful woman. [125] _Masnad_ means literally a sort of counterpane, made of silk, cloth, or brocade, which is spread on the carpet, where the master of the house sits and receives company; it has a large pillow behind to lean the back against, and generally two small ones on each side. It also, metaphorically, implies the seat on which kings, _nawwabs_, and governors sit the day they are invested with their royalty, &c. So that to say that _Shah-'Alam_ sat on the _masnad_ on such a day, means that he was on that day invested with royalty. [126] Asiatics divide the world into seven climes; so to reign over the seven climes means, metaphorically, to reign over the whole world; king of the seven climes was one of the titles of the Mogul emperors. [127] Literally, "it was not in the power of eyesight to dwell upon her splendour." [128] A Persian proverb, somewhat illustrative of a story told of a West India "nigger," whom his master used to over-flog. "Ah, massa," said Sambo, "poor man dare not vex--him damned sorry though." [129] The _Kalam-dan,_ literally "the pen-holder," means here the small tray containing pens, inkstand, a knife, &c. [130] _Tirpauliya_ means three arched gates; there are many such which divide grand streets in Indian cities, and may be compared to our Temple Bar in London, only much more splendid. [131] Ethiopian, or Abyssinian slaves, are commonly called _Sidis_. They are held in great repute for honesty and attachment. [132] The _chauk_ is in general a large square in Asiatic cities, where are situated the richest shops; it is sometimes a large wide street. [133] In the original there is a play on the word _'alam_ which signifies "beauty," "the world," also "a multitude of people," or what the French call "tout le monde." [134] Literally, "the observance of the [form of greeting] "_sahib salamat_," or "_salam 'alaika_," by which he had been at first accosted by his customer.--Vide note on this subject, page 41. [135] The verb _uthna_ like the Persian _bar-khastan_ is used idiomatically in the sense of "to go away," to "vanish." [136] Literally, "your command is on my head and eyes," a phrase imitated from the Persian "_ba sar o chashm_." [137] The phrase "_rah dekhna_," literally to look at the road," (by which a person is expected to come;) hence, very naturally and idiomatically it signifies "to be anxiously waiting for one." Again, _rah dikhana_ is the causal form, signifying "to make one wait," of "keep one waiting." [138] The word _janwar_ means "an animal," in general; but it is frequently used in the more restricted sense of "a bird". [139] The "evil eye" is a supersitious motion entertained by the ignorant in _all_ countries even until this day. The Asiatics suppose that uncommon qualities of beauty, fortune or health, raise an ominous admiration admiration, which injures the possessor. To tell parents that their children are stout and healthy, is a _mal-à-propos_ compliment; also to congratulate women on their healthy appearance is often unwelcome; the same ridiculous and supersitious accompany all admiration of beauty, fortune, &c. For this reason the visitor, in this case, do not compliment his host on the beauty of his person or the splendour of his dress; but instead make use of the above exclamation. [140] A celebrated musical performer in upper _Hindustan_, and considered as the first in his art. He lived in the reign of _Akbar_, somo 300 years ago. [141] A celebrated singer in upper _Hindustan_, who lived about 600 years ago. _Tan-Sen_ and _Ba,ora_ are still held in the highest reverence by singers and musical performers. In the original, there is a play on the words to _tan_ and _ba,ora_ which scarcely needs to be pointed out. [142] The original is, "_jis Ki itni ta'rif aur ishtiyak zahir kiya_," where the word _kiya_ agrees with _ishtiyak_ only, being the noun nearest. A shallow critic would be apt to say that this is bad grammar. [143] "_La haul parhna_," to repeat or recite the "_La haul_," or more fully, "_La haul wa la kuwwat illa b-Illahi;_" meaning, "there is no power nor strength but in God." An exclamation used by _Musalmans_ in cases of sudden surprise, misfortune, &c. [144] The insignia of state among the grandees of India. [145] The _gulab-pash_ is a silver or gold utensil, like a French bottle, to sprinkle rose water on the company; the _'itr-dan_ one to hold essences, and _pik-duns_ are of brass or silver to spit in, called by the French _crachoirs_. [146] The _abdar-khana_ a room appropriated to the cooling of water in ice or saltpetre, by the servant called the _abdar_. [147] Small leaden mugs with covers for the congelation of ice. [148] To cool the water which they contain; they are made of pewter. [149] The _masnad_ and its large back pillow are criterions of Asiatic etiquette. To an inferior or dependant, the master of the house gives the corner of the _masnad_ to sit on; to an equal or intimate friend, he gives part of the large pillow to lean on; to a superior, he abandons the whole pillow, and betakes himself to the corner of the _masnad_. [150] A kind of _palki_ or sedan, for the conveyance of the women of people of rank in India. [151] A sign of afflicting surprise. [152] _Majnun_, a lover famed in eastern romance, who long pined in unprofitable love for _Laili_, an ugly hard-hearted mistress. The loves of _Yusuf_ and _Zulaikh@a, Khusru_ and _Shirin_, also of _Laili_ and _Majnun_, are the fertile themes of Persian romance. [153] The _Muhammadans_ reckon their day from sunset. [154] By sitting and drinking with the young merchant, when he ought to wait on his guests, and attend to their entertainment. [155] A figurative and highly poetic expression as old as Homer. In this instance it is said to signify that the sun had been two _gharis_ above the horizon. [156] Literally, "a friendship of two days," where the number two is employed indefinitely to denote "few." [157] The month of _Ramazan_ consisting of thirty days, is the Lent of the _Muhammadans_. During tgat whole period, a good _Musalman_ or "true believer," is not allowed either to eat, or drink, or smoke from sunrise to sunset. This naturally explains the anxiety they must feel for the arrival of evening; more especially in high latitudes, should the _Ramazan_ happen in the middle of summer. As a mere religions observance this same fast, enjoined by _Muhammad_, is the most absurd, the most demoralizing, and the most hurtful to health that ever was invented by priestcraft. The people are forced to starve themselves during the whole day, and consequently they overeat themselves during the whole night, when they ought to be asleep in their beds, as nature intended. Hence they fall by thousands an easy prey to cholera, as happened in Turkey a few years ago. The fast of Lent among tho followers of the Pope of Rome is, though in a less degree, liable to the same censure. Why, instead of these unwholesome observances, do not the priests, whether of Mecca or of Rome, preach unto the people temperance and regularity of living? Ah, I forgot, the priests both of Mecca and of Rome can always grant _dispensations_ and _indulgences_ to such good people as can adduce _weighty_ reasons to that effect. [158] As frogs live in wet, they are not supposed to be extremely subject to catch cold; the simile is introduced to ridicule the extravagant idea of a merchant's son presuming to be in love with a princess. The simile is a proverb. [159] Washermen in India, in general, wash their linen at the _ghats_, and their dogs of course wander thither from home after them, and back again. This is one of their proverbs, and answers to ours of "Kicked from piller to post." [160] The _Khutba_ is a brief oration delivered after divine service every Friday (the _Musalman_ Sabbath,) in which the officiating priest blesses _Muhammad_, his successors, and the reigning sovereign. [161] A kind of sedan chair, or _palki_. [162] The _Khabar-dars_ are a species of spies stationed in various parts of oriental kingdoms in order to forward intelligence to head quarters. [163] A mode of humble address, when the inferior presumes to state something contrary to what the superior maintains or desires; and as human life in India was, in olden times, not only precarious, but considered as insignificant, the oriental slave acts prudently by begging his life before he presumes to be candid. [164] Literally, "He who is the changer of hearts." [165] Here the first _Darwesh_ addresses himself directly to the other three, who were his patient listeners. [166] The _jama_ is an Asiatic dress, something like a modern female gown, only much more full in the skirts. It is made of white cloth or muslin. [167] A superstitious custom in India; it implies that the person who goes round, sacrifices his life at the shrine of the love, prosperity and health of the beloved object. [168] The _kazi_ is the judge and magistrate in Asiatic cities; he performs the rites of marriage, settles disputes, and decides civil and criminal causes. As the _Muhammadan_ laws are derived from their religious code, the _Kuran_, the _kazi_ possesses both secular and ecclesiastical powers. [169] All good _Musalmans_ bathe after performing the rites of Venus, hence the purport of the princess's _simple question_ is obvious enough. [170] Called _warku-l-khiyal_; it is made from the leaves of the _charas_, a species of hemp; it is a common inebriating beverage in India; the different preparations of it is called _ganja, bhang_, &c. [171] Literally a "weighty _khil'at_," owing to the quantity of embroidery on it. The perfection of these oriental dresses is, to be so stiff as to stand on the floor unsupported. [172] The _paisa_ is the current copper coin of India; it is the 64th part of a rupee, and is in value as nearly as possible 3/4 of our halfpenny, or a farthing and a-half. [173] The word _kafir_ denotes literally, "infidel," or "heathen." It is here used as a term of endearment, just as we sometimes use the word "wicked rogue." [174] Literally, "_lakhs_ of rupees." In India money accounts are reckoned by hundreds, thousands, _lakhs_ and _crores_, instead of hundreds, thousands, and millions, as with us. A hundred thousands make a _lakh_, and a hundred _lakhs_, a _crore_. As the Indian mode of reckoning, though simple enough, is apt to perplex the beginner, let us take for example the number 123456789, which we thus point off,--123,456,789; but in India it would be pointed as follows:--12,34,56,789, and read 12 _crores_, 34 _lakhs_, fifty-six thousand seven hundred and eighty-nine. [175] The _muwazzin_ is a public crier, who ascends the turret or minaret of a mosque and calls out to the inhabitants the five periods of prayers; more especially the morning, noon and evening prayers. [176] This is a proverb, founded on a short story, viz.: "A certain Arab lost his camel; he vowed, if he found it, to sell it for a dinar, merely as a charitable deed. The camel was found, and the Arab sorely repented him of his vow. He then tied a cat on the camel's neck, and went through the city of _Baghdad,_ exclaiming, 'O, true believers, here is a camel to be sold for a _dinar_, and a cat for a thousand _dinars_; but they cannot be sold the one without the other.'" [177] _Taks_ are small recesses in the walls of apartments in Asia, for holding flower-pots, phials of wine, fruits, &c. [178] In the original it is a proverb, "When evil comes, the dog will bite even the man that is mounted on a camel," said of a person who is extremely unfortunate. [179] The term _barah-dari_ is applied either to a temporary pavilion, or a permanent summer-house; it is so called from the circumstance of its having "twelve doors," in honour of the twelve _Imams_.--Vide note, page 4. [180] The various kinds of fire-works here enumerated admit not of translation.--Vide vocabulary. [181] A proverb meaning that people or things are well matched; as the soul, at the hour of death, is committed to the charge of good or evil angels, according to its dessert. [182] A proverb applied to those who act in a manner utterly at variance with their condition. [183] The _patka_ is a long and narrow piece of cloth or silk, which is wrapped round the waist; among the rich a _shawl_ is the general _patka_. The act of throwing one's _patka_ round the neck and prostrating one's self at another's feet, is a most abject mark of submission. [184] Literally, "a collar or yoke, round my neck." [185] The _Mughal_ princes in the days of their splendour had guards of _Kalmuc_, or _Kilmak_, women for their seraglios; they were chosen for their size and courage, and were armed; other Tartar women were likewise taken, but they all went by the general name of _Kilmakini_. [186] Here the first _Darwesh_ resumes his address to his three companions. [187] In a note to my edition of Mr. F. Smith's translation of the _Baghobahar_, 1851, I inserted the following "petition." "May I request some friend in India, for auld lang syne, to ask any intelligent _munshi_ the exact meaning of _panchon hathiyar bandhna_, showing him at the same time the original where the expression occurs." To this request I received, a few months ago, a very kind and satisfactory reply from Lieut. J.C. Bayley, 36th Regt., M.N.I., which I have the pleasure here to insert; and at the same time, I beg to return my best thanks to that gentleman. "The _five weapons_ are, 1st, the _talwar_ or sword; 2nd, the _pesh-kabz_ or dagger; 3rd, the _tabar_ or battle-axe; 4th, the _barchhi_ or lance; 5th, the _tir o kaman_ or the bow and arrows. The phrase, _panchon hathiyar bandhna_ is very nearly equivalent to our expression, 'to be armed cap à pié.'" I may add to Lieut. B.'s obliging account that in more recent times, the "bow and arrows" are very naturally superseded by "a pair of pistols." Still the meaning of the phrase is the same in either case. [188] The word _chikmak_ or _chikmak_, is wrongly called "a flint" in the dictionaries. It merely denotes the piece of steel used in striking a fire. The flint is called _chikmak ka pathar_. [189] Literally, "at the seeing of which the liver would be turned into water." [190] The _pipal_ or "ficus religiosa," is a large tree venerated by the _Hindus_; it affords a most agreeable shade, as its leaves are large, in the shape of a heart. Many writers confound it with the "_ficus Indicus_" or "_baniyan_ tree," or rather, they devise an imaginary tree compounded of the two species, investing it with the heart-shaped leaves of the former, and the dropping and multiplying stems of the latter. [191] Respecting the ceremony called the _tasadduk_, vide note 3, p. 66. [192] Literally, "much dust did I sift the dust." [193] _Murtaza 'Ali_, the son-in-law of the prophet; one of his surnames is _Mushkil-kusha,_ or " the remover of difficulties." The _Saiyids_, who pretend to be descended from _'Ali_, wear green dresses, which is a sacred colour among the _Muhammadans_. [194] The phrase _char-zanu ho-baithna_, signifies "to sit down with the legs crossed in front as our tailors do when at work." It is the ordnary mode of sitting among the Turks. [195] The _dalk_, or _dilk_, is a garment made of patches and shreds worn by _darweshes_; the epithet _dolk-posh_, "a _dalk_ wearer," denotes a "darwesh," or "mendicant." [196] _Ispahan_ was once a fine city. In the time of the Chevalier Chardin, nearly two centuries ago, it was pronounced by that traveller to be the largest in the world. It is now about the size of Brighton; yet a few weeks ago, we saw in the "Illustrated London News," an account of it by a _Frenchman_ (a fire-side traveller), who declares it to be, still, "the largest city in the world!" [197] The _Muhammadans_ divide the world into seven climes, and suppose that a constellation presides over the destiny of each clime. [198] The Arabic phrase _lantarani_, a corruption of _la-an-tarani_, literally signifies "egad, if you saw me [do so and so];" hence _lantarani-wala_ is equivalent to our terms, "an egregious egotist," or "great boaster." [199] A novice in the language would say, "Here a distinction seems to be drawn between the words _zaban_ and _jibh_. Both signify 'tongue,' but the former applies to men and the latter to animals." To this profound bit of criticism I should reply--Not so fast, Mr. Novice; a distinction there is, but that is not it. The word _zaban_ in Persian and _Hindustani_ means both the fleshy member of the body, called the tongue, and also language or speech, just like our word "tongue," which has both significations. In the former sense it applies alike to man and beast; in the latter it is mere truism to say that it applies to man only. _Jibh_, in _Hindi_ and _Hindustani_, means the tongue only in the sense of the member of the body, never in the sense of speech; hence it is equally applicable to man or brute. Ask any physician who has practised in India the _Hindustani_ for "show the tongue," he will tell you _jibh dikla,o_, or _zaban dikla,o_; and if he was a man of discernment, he would use _jibh_ with a _Hindu_, and _zaban_ with a _Musalman_; but I believe he would be perfectly understood, whichever word he used to either party. [200] The case is _Hatim's_ philanthropy in respect to the old woodman, which on the part of any other than _Hatim_ might seem super-human. [201] It is related by grave historians, that _Hatim_ actually built an alms-house of this description. On _Hatim_'s death, his younger brother, who succeeded him, endeavoured to act the generous in the above manner. His mother dissuaded him, saying, "Think not, my son, of imitating _Hatim_: it is an effort thou canst not accomplish;" and in order to prove what she said, the mother assumed the garb of a _fakir_, and acted as above related. When she came to the first door the second time, and received her son's lecture on the sin of avarice; she suddenly threw off her disguise, and said, "I told thee, my son, not to think of imitating _Hatim_. By _him_ I have been served three times running, in this very manner, without ever a question being asked." [202] This and the following _jeu de mots_ cannot be easily explained to a person who does not understand a little Arabic or Persian. [203] The original is, "as yet _Dilli_ is a long way off," a proverb like that of the Campbells--"It is a far cry to Loch Awe." [204] The expression in the original is so _plain_ as to need no translation. [205] Some would-be knowing critics inform us that "_Dastar-khwan_" literally signifies the "turband of the table"!!! How they manage to make such a meaning out of it is beyond ordinary research; and when done, it makes nonsense. They forget that the Orientals never made use of tables in the good old times. The _dastar-khwan_ is, in reality, both table and table-cloth in one. It is a round piece of cloth or leather spread out on the floor. The food is then arranged thereon, and the company squat round the edge of it, and, after saying _Bism-Illah_, fall to, with what appetite they may; hence the phrase _dastar-khwan par baithna_, to sit on, (not _at_,) the table. The wise critics seem to be thinking of our modern mahogany, which is a very different affair. [206] In the original, an infinite variety of dishes is enumerated, which are necessarily passed over in the translation, simply, because we have no corresponding terms to express them in any Christian tongue. They would puzzle the immortal Ude himself, or the no less celebrated Soyer, the present autocrat of the culinary kingdom. But my chief reason for passing them over so lightly is the following, viz.: I have fully ascertained from officers home on furlough, that these passages are never read in India, nor is the student ever examined in them. They can interest only such little minds as are of the most contemptibly frivolous description. A man may be a first-rate English or French scholar, yea, an accomplished statesman, without being conversant with the infinite variety of dishes, &c., set down on the _carte_ of a first-rate Parisian restaurateur. [207] The Asiatics eat with the right hand, and use no knives or forks; so to draw back the hand from eating is to leave off eating. Of course, spoons are used for broths, &c, which cannot be eaten by the hand. [208] As it were intended to be stored up and not eaten. [209] This exceedingly plain expression is, so far from seeming gross or indelicate, considered as a very high compliment among Orientals. [210] Literally, "recite the _la haul_," &c, vide note 2, p. 5. [211] _Jogis_ are _Hindu_ ascetics, or fanatics; some of them let the nails grow through the palm of their hands by keeping their fists shut, &c. [212] The _maunis_ are _Hindu_ ascetics who vow everlasting silence. [213] The _sevras_ are mendicants of the _Jain_ sects. [214] _Majnun_ is a mad lover of eastern romance, who pined in vain for the cruel _Laili_. _Farhad_ is equally celebrated as an unhappy _amant_ who perished for _Shirin_. [215] The word _salam_, "salutation," is used idiomatically in the sense of our terms "compliments" or "respects," &c. And in that sense it has now become, in India, adopted into the English language. [216] The marriage portion here alluded to is not to be taken in the vague sense we attach to the term. The word _mahar_ denotes a present made to, or a portion settled on, the wife at or before marriage. [217] _Nimroz_ is that part of Persia which comprehends the provinces of _Sijistan_ and _Mikran_, towards the south-east. [218] The _man_, commonly called "maund," a measure of weight, about eighty pounds avoirdupois. [219] It is needless here to enumerate the stores of various articles detailed in the original, as they will all be found in the vocabulary. [220] Literally, "her own leavings." In the East it considered a very high compliment on the part of a person of rank to present his guest with the remnants of his own dish. [221] Literally, "night of power or grandeur," would in that place be "without grandeur." The _shabi kadr_, or as the Arabs have it, _lailatu-l-kadri_, is a sacred festival held on the 27th of _Ramazan_, being, according to the _Musalmans_, the night on which the _Kur,an_ was sent down from heaven. [222] Meaning that, under present circumstances, her commands were altogether out of place. [223] It is incumbent on good Mussulmans to wash the hands and face before prayers. Where water is not to be had, this ceremony, called _tayammum_ is performed by using sand instead. [224] _Lukman_ is supposed to be the Greek slave �sop, the author of the Fables. _Bu 'Ali Sina_ is the famous Arab physician and philosopher, by mediæval writers erroneously called Avicenna. [225] _Khizr_ or _Khwaja Khizr_ is the name of a saint or prophet, of great notoriety among the _Muhammadans_. The legends respecting his origin and life are as numerous as they are absurd and contradictory. Some say he was grand _Vizir_ to Solomon, others to Alexander the Great. They all agree, however, that he discovered the water of immortality, and that in consequence of having drunk thereof, he still lives and wanders about on the earth. [226] _Kasra_ is the title of the King of Persia, hence the Greek forms Cyrus and Chosroes, and most probably the more modern forms Caesar, Kaisar, and Czar. The form _Kisra_ used in the text is generally applied to _Naushirwan_.--Vide note 3, page 13. [227] _Ni'man_, also _Nu'man_, the name of an ancient king of _Hirat_, in Arabia. [228] The first day of the new year, which is celebrated with great splendour and rejoicings. [229] The _Brahmans_, erroneously called Bramins, do not eat meat. [230] Literally, "she would have repeated the _Kalima_," or "Confession of Faith" of the followers of _Muhammad_, which is as follows:--"There is no God but God, and _Muhammad_ is his prophet." Some profane wags have parodied this creed into a Jewish one, viz.--"There ish no God but the monish, and shent per shent (cent. per cent.) ish hish prophet" (profit.) [231] The common mode to present large sums in specie to princely visitors, is to form a platform with the money, spread the _masnad_ on it, and place the visitor on the rich seat. Mr. Smith states that he had himself seen _Asafu-d-Daula_, the then _Nawwab_ of Lucknow, receive a lack of rupees in this way from _Almas_, one of his eunuchs. [232] _Chand-rat_, is applied to the night on which the new moon is first visible, which night, together with the following day till sunset, constitutes the _pahli tarikh_, or _ghurra_, that is the first of the lunar month. [233] _Ramazan_ is the ninth _Muhammadan_ month, during which they keep Lent. Vide note, p. 59. [234] The _'Id_ is the grand festival after the Lent of _Ramazan_ is over. There is another _'Id_, called _Al-Kurban_, in commemoration of Abraham's meditated sacrifice of his son Isaac, or as the _Muhammadans_ believe of his son Ishmael. [235] Literally, "having washed my hands of my life." [236] _Rustam_, a brave and famous hero of Persia, whose Herculean achievements are celebrated in the _Shah-Nama_. [237] Literally, "a _salam_ as low as the carpet;" or as we say, "a bow to the ground." [238] The various editions of the text read _tunna_, "a particular kind of tree." In one of my MSS., however, the reading is _tane_, the inflected form of _tana_, the "trunk of a tree," which is better sense. [239] Literally, "the parrot of my hand flew away." [240] The _Muhammadans_ reckon a hundred and twenty years as the _'umri tabi'i_, or the natural period of man's life. [241] The mountain of _Kaf_, is the celebrated abode of the _jinns_, _paris_, and _divs_, and all the fabulous beings of oriental romance. The _Muhammadans_, as of yore all good Christians, believe that the earth is a flat circular plane; and on the confines of this circle is a ring of lofty mountains extending all round, serving at once to keep folks from falling off, as well as forming a convenient habitation for the _jinns_, &c., aforesaid. The mountain, (I am not certain on whose trigonometrical authority) is said to be 500 _farasangs_ or 2000 English miles in height. [242] With regard to the plain, simple sentence, "_yih kahkar takht uthaya_," we have somewhere seen the following erudite criticism, viz.:--"With deference to _Mir Amman_, this is bad grammar. The nominative to _kahkar_ and _uthaya_ ought to be the same!!!" Now, it is a great pity that the critic did not favour us here with his notions of _good_ grammar. Just observe, O reader, how the expression stands in the text: "_yih kahkar takht uthaya_," and you will naturally ask, "where is the fault in the grammar?" The nominative, or rather the agent, is _pari ne_, hence the translation, "the fairy, having thus spoken, took up the throne." The poor critic seems to confound "_uthaya_" with "_utha_." [243] One of the would-be poets of our day has translated the above most elegantly and literally, as follows:-- "What mischiefs through this love arise! What broken hearts and miseries!" [244] The _Muhammadans_ have great confidence in charms which are written on slips of paper, along with numerous astrological characters. They consist chiefly of quotations from the _Kuran_, and are often diluted in water, and drank as medicine in various distempers. As the Indian ink and paper can do no harm, and often act as an emetic, they are probably more innocent than the physic administered by eastern physicians, who are the most ignorant of their profession. The fact is, that the soi disant "teachers" of mankind, in all ages and countries--the African fetish, the American Indian sachem, the _Hindu jogi_, the _Musalman mulla_, and the Romish priest and miracle-monger--have all agreed on one point, viz., to impose on their silly victims a multitude of unmeaning ceremonies, and absurd mummeries, in order to conceal their own contemptible vacuity of intellect. [245] The _Jata-dhari Gusa,in_ is a sect of fanatic _Hindu_ mendicants, who let their hair grow and matted, and go almost naked. [246] _Mahadev_ is a _Hindu_ idol; the emblem of the creative power, and generally and naturally represented by the Lingum. [247] _Shevrat_ is a _Hindu_ festival, which corresponds nearly with the Mahometan _shabi barat_. [248] Plato is supposed by the _Muhammadans_ to have been not only a profound philosopher, but a wise physician. In short, it is too general an idea with them, that a clever man must be a good doctor. [249] The _langot_ or _langoti_ is a piece of cloth wrapped or fastened round the loins, and tucked in between the feet. It barely conceals what civilization requires should be hid from the public view. [250] _Ma'jun_ is the extract from the intoxicating plant called _charas_ or _bhang_, a species of hemp; it is mixed with sugar and spices to render it palatable. The inebriation it produces fills the imagination with agreeable visions, and the effects are different from those of wine or spirits. [251] Six _mashas_ amount to nearly a quarter of an ounce; a sicca rupee weighs eleven _mashas_. [252] Literally, "a volume of a book." [253] This exceedingly absurd story is of Rabbinical origin. I have a strong impression on my mind of having read something very like it long ago in the works of Philo Judaeus, the contemporary of Josephus. [254] The _Ismi A'zam_, or the "Most Mighty Name" [of God] is a magic spell or incantation which the acquirer can apply to wonderful purposes. God hath, among the _Muhammadans_, ninety-nine names or epithets; the _Ismi A'zam_ is one of the number, but it is only the initiated few who can say which of the ninety-nine it is. [255] The word _sawab_ strictly means, "the reward received in the next world for virtuous actions performed in the present state of existence." [256] The veiled horseman who rescued the first and second _Darweshes_ from self-destruction. [257] A Persian proverb. [258] _Badakhshan_ is a part of the grand province of _Khurasan_, and the city of _Balkh_ is its metropolis, to the eastward of which is a chain of mountains celebrated for producing fine rubies. [259] All Asiatic princes, like others nearer home, have spies, called "reporters of intelligence," who inform themselves of what passes in public. They are, as a matter of course, the pest of society, and generally corrupt. [260] A _miskal_ is four and a half _mashas_; our ounce contains twenty-four _mashas_. So the ruby weighed more than half an ounce. [261] The word _raja_ is the _Hindu_ term for a prince or sovereign. In more recent times it has become a mere empty title, conferred upon rich _Hindus_ by the Emperor of _Delhi_. [262] _Naishapur_ was once the richest and grandest city in the province of _Khurasan_. It was utterly destroyed by _Tuli_, the son of _Jenghis Khan_ (or more correctly, _Changis Ka,an_), in A.D. 1221. [263] Seven _miskals_ are more than an ounce and a quarter. [264] The term Farang, vulgarly Frank, was formerly applied to Christian Europe in general, with the exclusion of Russia. [265] Literally, "kissed the ground of obeisance," a Persian phrase, expressive of profound respect. [266] "The minister's daughter," afterwards called "the young merchant." [267] The phrase _pachas ek_ means "about fifty." It is strange that a certain critic on this work, (who has a prodigiously high opinion of himself,) should have rendered the above passage, "whose age was about forty or fifty years!" Most assuredly, the merest tyro in _Hindustani_ can tell him that it cannot have such a latitude as to mean "about forty or fifty." He might just as correctly have said "about fifty or sixty." The phrase _pachas ek_, as I have stated, means simply "about fifty," i.e., it may be _one_ year more or less. [268] In the text, the _wazir-zadi_ is henceforth called _saudagar-bacha_ or the young merchant, being the character under which she, for some time, figures. [269] _morchhals_, vulgarly called _chowrees_, are fly-flaps, to drive away those troublesome companions; the best kind is made of the fine white long tail of the mountain cow; the others of the long feathers from, the peacock's tail, or the odoriferous roots of a species of grass called _Khas_. They are likewise a part of the paraphernalia of state in India. [270] The title _khwaja _ means "chief," or "master;" it is generally applied to rich merchants, &c., such as we would call "men of respectability." The idiomatic London English for it is "governor," or (as it is pronounced) "guv'ner". [271] Literally, "What difficulty" (is there in so doing). [272] The city of _Naishapur_ being some 270 miles inland, it would not be easy for the young merchant to reach it by sea. Asiatic story-tellers are not at all particular in regard to matters of geography. [273] _'Ajam_ means, in general, Persia; the Arabs use it in the same sense as the Greeks did the word "barbarian;" and all who are not Arabs they call _'Ajami_; more especially the Persians. [274] _Sara,e, sera,i_ or _caravanserai_, are buildings for the accommodation of travellers, merchants, &c., in cities, and on the great roads in Asia. Those in Upper _Hindustan_, built by the emperors of _Dilli_, are grand and costly; they are either of stone or burnt bricks. In Persia, they are mostly of bricks dried in the sun. In Upper _Hindustan_ they are commonly sixteen to twenty miles distant from each other, which is a _manzil_ or stage. They are generally built of a square or quadrangular form with a large open court in the centre, and contain numerous rooms for goods, men, and beasts. [275] Literally, made excuses from the surface of his heart," i.e., not serious excuses. [276] That is, "completely armed." Vide note 2, page 87. [277] On the exact meaning of _dastar-khwan,_ see note, page 104. [278] The _Musalman_ confession of faith, see note 3, page 156. [279] The idiom "_do mahine ek_," about two months, similar to the phrase, "_pachas ek baras_," _v._ note 1, page 161. [280] Literally, "began to smack his lips;" denoting his satisfaction. [281] Tartar, African, and Turkish slaves. [282] Literally, "I have not proved false in what you have entrusted to me." [283] The coffee and pipe are always presented to visitors in Turkey, Arabia, and Persia, and they are considered as indispensable in good manners. [284] "_dant kholne_" is fully explained in my Grammar, page 129. It appears to have sadly puzzled a learned critic, to whom I have occasionally alluded. [285] Literally, "middle brother;" as there were three in number, of course the "second" and "middle" are identical. [286] The _Siyum_ are the rites performed for the dead on the third day after demise; it is called the _tija_ in _Hinduwi_. [287] Alluding to God. [288] Or it may mean, "my blood boiled" [with resentment]. [289] The _Muhammadan_ sabbath is Friday. [290] A _kafila_ means a company of merchants who assemble and travel together for mutual protection. It is synonymous with caravan. [291] _Bukhara_ is a celebrated city in Tartary; it was formerly the capital of the province called _Mawaralnahr_, or _Transoxiana_, before the Tartar conquerors fixed on _Samarkand_. It lies to the northward of the river _Oxus_ or _Gihun_, which divides Tartary from Persia, or as the Persian geographers term it, _Iran_, from _Turan_. _Bukhara_ is celebrated by Persian poets for its climate, its fruits, and its beautiful women. [292] The _boza_ is an intoxicating drink made of spirits, the leaves of the _charas_ plant, _tari_, and opium. _Tari_, erroneously called _todee_, is the juice of the palm tree. [293] Literally, ale-house, or tippling-house. One is strongly led to believe that this is the origin of our cant word _boozing-ken_, imported from the East by the gipsies some four or five centuries ago. [294] A grateful and luxurious operation in the warm climate of India, more especially after the fatigue of travelling. _Shampooing_ is a word of uncertain etymology; the French have a better term, _masser_. The natives say it has a physical advantage, as it quickens their languid circulation; perhaps they are right. [295] A _kos_ is nearly two English miles, being about fifteen furlongs. [296] Literally, "the fire was kindled in my stomach." [297] Pointing to his two brothers who were present, and heard his tale. [298] The stake was a common mode of punishment in India in former days, and, until recently, was practised among the _Sikhs_, _Marhattas_, and other Asiatic princes, who were independent of our government. [299] Addressing himself to the king _Azad Bakht_. [300] The term _kibla_ signifies the "point of adoration," and is generally applied to the _Ka'ba_, or holy edifice, situated in the sacred inclosure of Mecca. To this point all _Muhammadans_ must turn when they pray. [301] The prayer of martyrdom among the _Musalmans._ It is often repeated when they go into action against Christians and Pagans [302] According to the _Muhammadan_ belief, _Nakir_ and _Munkir_ are two angels who attend at the moment of death, and call to an account the spirit of the deceased. [303] Literally, "satiated the dog of my stomach." [304] Literally, to perform the act of "rubbing the nose on the earth," expressive of extreme humility. [305] Literally, "having fastened [on his person] the four mirrors." [306] The term _zuhr_ strictly denotes the period devoted to the mid-day prayer, which is offered up after the sun has perceptibly declined from the meridian. Vide note 4, in page 14. [307] The name of the countries which lie, as the people of _Hindustan_ term it, below Bengal, i.e., to the south-east of it; the name includes the kingdoms of Ava and Pegu. [308] _Kunwar_ is the _Hindu_ name for the son of a _raja_. [309] The _chaugan_ is a Persian sport performed on horseback, with a large ball like a foot-ball, which is knocked about with a long stick like a shepherd's crook; it is precisely the game called in Scotland "shintey," and in England "hockey," only that the players are mounted. [310] _Rani_ is the _Hindu_ name of a _raja's_ wife. [311] Literally, "without a partner." The _Musalmans_ consider our doctrine of the Trinity as a deadly error. [312] _Sarandip_ is the name for the island of Ceylon among the Arabs and Persians, as well as the _Musalmans_ of India. The ancient _Hindu_ name was _Lanka_, applied both to the island and its capital. [313] The term _kisra_ is evidently applied here to _Naushirwan_, not to Cyrus, as is stated in some books. [314] _Iran_ is the ancient name of Persia in its more extended sense, that is, the Persian Empire. _Fars_ is sometimes used in the same sense. Strictly speaking, it denotes Persia proper, which is only a province of _Iran_. [315] The _kafila-bashi_ is the head man of the _kafila_, or company of merchants, who travel in a body for mutual safety, and compose what is commonly called a caravan, properly a _karwan_; the richest and most respectable merchant of the party is generally elected _bashi_; all the rest obey his orders, and he directs the movements, &c., of the whole company, and moreover, acts, in all cases of dispute, as judge and magistrate. [316] The _farsakh_, or _farsang_, or _parsang_, is a measure of distance in Persia, and contains at the present day about 3 3/4 English miles. Herodotus reckoned the _[Greek: pasasaggaes]_; in his time at 30 Grecian stadia. [317] _Salsabil_ is the name of a fountain of Paradise, according to _Muhammadan_ belief. [318] The student is of course aware that in most languages a question is frequently equivalent to a negative, as in this sentence. A sapient critic, to whom I have more than once alluded, was pleased to honour me with the following profound remark on the reading given in the original, viz.--"There is a slip here in Forbes's edition, as well as the Calcutta one. The word _nahin_, 'not,' is omitted, which destroys the whole sense!!!" [319] The _kaliyan_ (or as the moderns say, _kaliyun_) is the Persian _hukka_. [320] This is, as the vulgate hath it, "coming it a little too strong;" but be it remembered that Oriental story-tellers do not mar the interest of their narrative by a slavish adherence to probability. [321] Here the king _Azad Bakht_ speaks in his own person, and addresses himself to the four _darweshes_. [322] With regard to the essence of _bed-mushk_ vide note 2, page 42. [323] The image of the Divine power in that country of Pagans. [324] Vide note 3, page 30, respecting the _chilla_, or "period of forty." [325] That is to say, she had never seen a _Muhammadan_ at his prayers. [326] _Lat_ and _Manat_ were the two great idols of _Hindu_ worship in former times. [327] In the languages of southern India, _Turk_ is the general appellation for a _Musalman_. [328] The _chaman_ is a small garden or _parterre_, which is laid out before the sitting room in the interior of the women's apartments; it means in general, _parterres_ of flowers. [329] The original uses a much stronger expression. [330] Literally, the poison of the _halahal_, as expression used to denote poison of the strongest kind. The _halahal_ is a fabulous poison, said to have been produced from the ocean on the churning of it by the gods and _daityas._ Our critic says, on this word, that it means "deadly!!!" will he favour us with some authority on that point, better than his own? [331] On the phrase, _do mahine men_, our critic comes out in great force. He says, "Mir Amman here sins against grammar; it should be, _do mahinon men!!!_" The critic is not aware, that when a noun follows a numeral it never requires the inflection plural en, except when it is to be rendered more definite? In reality, Mir Amman would be wrong if he had employed the reading recommended by the sapient critic; _do mahine men_ means "in two months;" _do mahinon men_ "in _the_ two months" (previously determined upon). [332] The _chor-mahall_ is a private seraglio. [333] The twelve _Imams_.--Vide note 3, page 4. [334] The threshold of a pagoda or mosque. The oriental people uncover their feet, as we do our heads, on entering a place of worship. [335] Asiatics do not sign their names, but put their seals to letters, bonds, paper, &c.; on the seal is engraven their names, titles, &c.; which absurd practice has frequently given rise to much roguery, and even bloodshed, as it is so easy, by bribes, to get a seal-cutter to forge almost any seal, a notorious instance of which appeared some twenty years ago in the case of the _Raja_ of _Sattara_. Though the _Muhammadan_ laws punish with severe penalties such transgressions, yet seal-cutters are not more invulnerable to the powers of gold than other men. Kings, princes, _nawwabs_ &c., have a private mark, as well as a public seal, to official papers; and a private seal and mark for private or confidential papers. [336] A _khil'at_ or honorary dress is generally bestowed on a person when he is appointed to a new situation. [337] Literally, "who could hit a _kauri_ suspended by a hair." The _kauri_ is a small round shell used to denote the minutest denomination of money. In Bengal it is about the hundredth part of a _paisa_. [338] The _nazar_ or _pesh-kash_ is a sum of money, &c., which, all oriental officials pay to the prince of the country, or to his favourites, &c., when appointed to their situations. Some people say that such things are done nearer home, with this difference, that among us it is a private transaction; whereas, in the East, it is an open one. [339] _ja-girs_ are donations of lands, or, rather, of the revenues arising from a certain portion of land; strictly speaking, such a grant is a reward for military service, though it is sometimes bestowed without that condition. [340] As the _Musalmans_ reckon their day from sun-set, this is no _bull_. [341] Literally, "the third fault is that of the mother." [342] The king here resumes his address to the four darweshes. [343] A proverb synonymous to ours, of "What is bred in the bone, will never come out of the flesh." [344] The _tawa_ is a circular plate of malleable or cast iron, used for baking cakes or bannocks. It is slightly convex, like a watch-glass, on the upper side, where the bread is laid on; the under or concave side being, of course perfectly black. In Scotland, and in the northern counties of England, this domestic implement is called "the girdle," and is still in common use in places remote from towns. [345] Till recently a province of Persia; the northern part of ancient Media. It is now, alas! fallen into the deadly grasp of the unholy Muscovite. [346] A kind of pea common in India; it is the ordinary food of horses, oxen, camels, &c., likewise of the native. By Europeans it is generally called _grum_ or "_graum_." [347] The _Muhammadans_ believe that on the day of judgment all who have died will assemble on a vast plain, to hear their sentences from the mouth of God; so the reader may naturally conceive the size of the plain. [348] The _surma_ is a black powder made of antimony, which the Asiatic women use on their eyelids, to give a superior lustre to their black or hazel eyes; when applied with taste, it certainly has that effect. It is likewise used for sore eyes, but I cannot say with what success. [349] _Chummak_ is the Turkish name for a kind of _baton_ set with precious stones, and used by some of the officers of the palace as an insignia of state, like our rods, wands, &c. [350] This ludicrous idea is to be found in the veracious "Voiage and Travaile" of Sir John Maundevile, Kt. Speaking of the "Yles abouten Ynde," he says, "men fynden there an Ile that is clept Crues," where "for the grete distresse of the hete, mennes ballokkes hangen down to their knees, for the grete dissolucioun of the body." [351] The _Hur_ are celestial females, and the _Ghilman_ beautiful youths, who are to attend upon all good Mahometans in Paradise. [352] The _nakkar-khana_ is the place at the portico of a temple or palace where drums are beaten at stated intervals. It is somewhat akin to the "belfry," of a Romish church, the childish and everlasting noise of which is supposed to constitute an important part of Christianity. [353] _Padmini_, the highest and most excellent of the four classes of women among the _Hindus_. [354] The prime minister, or first officers of state, under the _Mughal_ emperors. [355] Literally, "instant of an instant." With regard to this idiomatic use of the genitive case, vide "Grammar," page 96, paragraph _b_. [356] Here the _khwaja_ resumes his own story to _Azad Bakht_. [357] The king, _Azad Bakht_, speaks in his own person. [358] The son of a _khwaja_ or merchant of the highest grade. [359] When _Musalmans_ go on pilgrimage to _Mecca_, they shave their heads on their arrival there; the ridicule is, to have incurred the shaving without the merit of the pilgrimage. [360] Called the _khil'at sarafrazi_, i.e. of exaltation. [361] The _farsh_ is the carpet or cloth which is spread in the room, where company is received, or the king's audience is held; for the king to advance to the end of the _farsh_ to receive the _wazir_, is a mark of respect, which Asiatic princes seldom pay, even to their equals. [362] The insignia of the _wazir's_ office in India and Persia, is the _kalumdan._ [363] The abode of a _fakir_ is called a _takiya_. [364] The phrase _kot bundh baithna_ signifies to squat down as a person does when easing nature, the two hands being clasped together round the legs a little below the knees. [365] _Chaupar_ is a very ancient Indian game of the nature of backgammon, played by four people, each having four men or pieces. A full description of it is given in the Ayeeni Akbary, London, 1800, vol. 1st, page 253. [366] _Azur_, the father of Abraham, was a famous statuary and idol-worshipper, according to the ideas of _Muhammadans_. [367] Alluding to the _Hindu_ custom of the wife's burning herself with the corpse of her husband; in these cases, perhaps, fear of the priesthood, &c., is a stronger motive than love for the defunct. [368] By the Island of the Franks, it is most probable that the author means Britain. The description of the capital is more adapted to London sixty years ago than to any other European city. This, _Mir Amman_ might have learned from some of the resident Europeans, while he filled up the rest from his own luxuriant imagination. [369] The "eunuch" is of course out of place in a Christian city; at least he does not hold the same rank as in the East. [370] In the original it is water; the meaning is obvious enough. [371] Most probably the name of some famous armourer. [372] A Persian proverb. [373] That is poison of the strongest kind.--Vide note on this word in page 213. [374] Meaning in this world and the next. [375] Barbers in Asia not only shave but wash persons in the private and public baths. [376] A prince of _Khurasan_, who quitted a throne in order to lead a life of piety. [377] A celebrated city of _Khurasan_, famous in former times for its riches. [378] The attitude of respect, common in the East, when a servant has a request to make of his master; or a very inferior person of one who is greatly his superior. [379] Meaning, "of surpassing speed." [380] In the original, the word is _kai_, or the green scum that floats on stagnant water. "_Bihzad Khan_, dispersed the enemy as _kai_ is dispersed when a stone is thrown into the water," is nearly the original simile. [381] Literally, "merely continued bringing up the soil from the bottom." [382] The first and second _Darweshes_. [383] One of the many epithets applied to _Darweshes_ in the East. [384] A Persian proverb. [385] The regent; the fourth _Darwesh's_ uncle. [386] According to the fabulous system of _jinns, divs, paris, &c.,_ in Asia, it is supposed that the _jinns_ and _paris_ live on essences, &c. The _divs_ are malignant spirits or beings, and live on less delicate food. [387] _Divs_ or demons; the malignant race of _jinns_. [388] _Chin_ and _Machin,_ is the general name of China among the Persians. [389] _Bukhur_ is a kind of frankincense. [390] _Abu-Jahal_, or "the father of obstinacy," or "of brutality," was the name of an Arab. He was uncle to the prophet _Muhammad_, and an inveterate opposer of the latter's new religion. [391] The forty figures of monkeys would give the possessor a power over the _divs_ and _jinns_, and having them at his command, he could easily overset the usurper, _alias_ his uncle. [392] The _Ismi A'zam_, or great name of God.--See note 2, p. 145. [393] Alluding to the Asiatic custom of the women being concealed from the view of all, except their husbands or very near relations. [394] The _kazis_ and _muftis_ are the judges in Turkey, Arabia, Persia and _Hindustan_, of all civil and religious causes; they likewise marry, divorce, &c. [395] The _tija_ is the same as the _siyum_.--See note 2, page 187. [396] A kind of litter for the conveyance of women and the sick. [397] A kind of litter for travelling in Persia and Arabia; two of them are slung across a camel or a mule; those for camels carry four persons. [398] Viz., his state of castration. [399] _Zu-l-fakar_, the name of a famous sword that _'Ali_ used to wear. [400] The veiled horseman, _'Ali Mushkil-Kusha_. [401] In the original there is a play on the words _haml_ and _hamal_. [402] Literally, "he made the man in want of a _kauri_ the master of a _lakh_ [of rupees]. [403] _Ryots_ (a corruption of the word _ra'iyat_) are the husbandmen in India; the tillers of the soil who rent small parcels of land from the government, through the medium of the _zamin-dar_, who is a servant of government and not the proprietor of the land, as some have erroneously supposed. The word means keeper of the land, and not the proprietor. In fact, he is like the Irish middleman, in every sense of the word. [404] A famous garden in Arabia Felix; it is also applied to the garden in Paradise, in which all good Mahometans, according to their belief, are to revel after death. [405] _'Umman_ is the name of the southern part of _Yaman_ or Arabia Felix; the country which lies between the mouth of the Persian Gulf and the mouth of the Red Sea; the sea which washes this coast is called the sea of _'Umman_ in Persia and Arabia, as the Red Sea is called the sea of _Kulzum_. [406] A mode of punishment used in former times in Persia, India, and Arabia, against great enemies or atrocious delinquents. Such treatment the poor emperor Valerian experienced from the haughty _Shapur_ or _Shabar_ (the Sapores of the Greeks), king of Persia or Parthia. [407] The first _darwesh_. [408] The second _darwesh_. [409] The third _darwesh_. [410] The fourth _darwesh_. [411] The five pure bodies are _Muhammad_, the prophet; _Fatima_, his daughter; _Ali_, her husband; and _Hazan_ and _Husain_, their chidren. [412] The fourteen innocents are the children of _Hazan_ and _Husain_. [413] By an arithmetical operation called in Persian _Abjad_; as Persian letters have arithmetical powers, the letters which compose the words _Bagh O Bahar_ added up, produce the sum 1217. From the inscription on most _Muhammadan_ tombs, and those on the gates of mosques, the dates of demise and erection can be ascertained. We had the same barbarous custom in Europe about the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries; see the Spectator (No. 60,) on this ridiculous subject, which was considered as a proof of great ingenuity. [414] A pun on the word _Bahar_, which means spring, when flowers are in full bloom; but the French word _printemps_ conveys more exactly the compound signification; for _Bahar_ not only means spring, but an agreeable spring. The Persians are as fond of these _double entendres_ as any other people; their poetry is strewed with them, and so is their prose. It is not, however, to be considered as a model of pure taste. 
2388	----	This My insuperable and fixed decree! Abstaining from a work by right prescribed Never is meet! So to abstain doth spring From "Darkness," and Delusion teacheth it. Abstaining from a work grievous to flesh, When one saith "'Tis unpleasing!" this is null! Such an one acts from "passion;" nought of gain Wins his Renunciation! But, Arjun! Abstaining from attachment to the work, Abstaining from rewardment in the work, While yet one doeth it full faithfully, Saying, "Tis right to do!" that is "true " act And abstinence! Who doeth duties so, Unvexed if his work fail, if it succeed Unflattered, in his own heart justified, Quit of debates and doubts, his is "true" act: For, being in the body, none may stand Wholly aloof from act; yet, who abstains From profit of his acts is abstinent. The fruit of labours, in the lives to come, Is threefold for all men,--Desirable, And Undesirable, and mixed of both; But no fruit is at all where no work was. Hear from me, Long-armed Lord! the makings five Which go to every act, in Sankhya taught As necessary. First the force; and then The agent; next, the various instruments; Fourth, the especial effort; fifth, the God. What work soever any mortal doth Of body, mind, or speech, evil or good, By these five doth he that. Which being thus, Whoso, for lack of knowledge, seeth himself As the sole actor, knoweth nought at all And seeth nought. Therefore, I say, if one-- Holding aloof from self--with unstained mind Should slay all yonder host, being bid to slay, He doth not slay; he is not bound thereby! Knowledge, the thing known, and the mind which knows, These make the threefold starting-ground of act. The act, the actor, and the instrument, These make the threefold total of the deed. But knowledge, agent, act, are differenced By three dividing qualities. Hear now Which be the qualities dividing them. There is "true" Knowledge. Learn thou it is this: To see one changeless Life in all the Lives, And in the Separate, One Inseparable. There is imperfect Knowledge: that which sees The separate existences apart, And, being separated, holds them real. There is false Knowledge: that which blindly clings To one as if 'twere all, seeking no Cause, Deprived of light, narrow, and dull, and "dark." There is "right" Action: that which being enjoined-- Is wrought without attachment, passionlessly, For duty, not for love, nor hate, nor gain. There is "vain" Action: that which men pursue Aching to satisfy desires, impelled By sense of self, with all-absorbing stress: This is of Rajas--passionate and vain. There is "dark" Action: when one doth a thing Heedless of issues, heedless of the hurt Or wrong for others, heedless if he harm His own soul--'tis of Tamas, black and bad! There is the "rightful"doer. He who acts Free from self-seeking, humble, resolute, Steadfast, in good or evil hap the same, Content to do aright-he "truly" acts. There is th' "impassioned" doer. He that works From impulse, seeking profit, rude and bold To overcome, unchastened; slave by turns Of sorrow and of joy: of Rajas he! And there be evil doers; loose of heart, Low-minded, stubborn, fraudulent, remiss, Dull, slow, despondent--children of the "dark." Hear, too, of Intellect and Steadfastness The threefold separation, Conqueror-Prince! How these are set apart by Qualities. Good is the Intellect which comprehends The coming forth and going back of life, What must be done, and what must not be done, What should be feared, and what should not be feared, What binds and what emancipates the soul: That is of Sattwan, Prince! of "soothfastness." Marred is the Intellect which, knowing right And knowing wrong, and what is well to do And what must not be done, yet understands Nought with firm mind, nor as the calm truth is: This is of Rajas, Prince! and "passionate!" Evil is Intellect which, wrapped in gloom, Looks upon wrong as right, and sees all things Contrariwise of Truth. O Pritha's Son! That is of Tamas, "dark" and desperate! Good is the steadfastness whereby a man Masters his beats of heart, his very breath Of life, the action of his senses; fixed In never-shaken faith and piety: That is of Sattwan, Prince! "soothfast" and fair! Stained is the steadfastness whereby a man Holds to his duty, purpose, effort, end, For life's sake, and the love of goods to gain, Arjuna! 'tis of Rajas, passion-stamped! Sad is the steadfastness wherewith the fool Cleaves to his sloth, his sorrow, and his fears, His folly and despair. This--Pritha's Son!-- Is born of Tamas, "dark" and miserable! Hear further, Chief of Bharatas! from Me The threefold kinds of Pleasure which there be. Good Pleasure is the pleasure that endures, Banishing pain for aye; bitter at first As poison to the soul, but afterward Sweet as the taste of Amrit. Drink of that! It springeth in the Spirit's deep content. And painful Pleasure springeth from the bond Between the senses and the sense-world. Sweet As Amrit is its first taste, but its last Bitter as poison. 'Tis of Rajas, Prince! And foul and "dark" the Pleasure is which springs From sloth and sin and foolishness; at first And at the last, and all the way of life The soul bewildering. 'Tis of Tamas, Prince! For nothing lives on earth, nor 'midst the gods In utmost heaven, but hath its being bound With these three Qualities, by Nature framed. The work of Brahmans, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, And Sudras, O thou Slayer of thy Foes! Is fixed by reason of the Qualities Planted in each: A Brahman's virtues, Prince! Born of his nature, are serenity, Self-mastery, religion, purity, Patience, uprightness, learning, and to know The truth of things which be. A Kshatriya's pride, Born of his nature, lives in valour, fire, Constancy, skilfulness, spirit in fight, And open-handedness and noble mien, As of a lord of men. A Vaisya's task, Born with his nature, is to till the ground, Tend cattle, venture trade. A Sudra's state, Suiting his nature, is to minister. Whoso performeth--diligent, content-- The work allotted him, whate'er it be, Lays hold of perfectness! Hear how a man Findeth perfection, being so content: He findeth it through worship--wrought by work-- Of Him that is the Source of all which lives, Of HIM by Whom the universe was stretched. Better thine own work is, though done with fault, Than doing others' work, ev'n excellently. He shall not fall in sin who fronts the task Set him by Nature's hand! Let no man leave His natural duty, Prince! though it bear blame! For every work hath blame, as every flame Is wrapped in smoke! Only that man attains Perfect surcease of work whose work was wrought With mind unfettered, soul wholly subdued, Desires for ever dead, results renounced. Learn from me, Son of Kunti! also this, How one, attaining perfect peace, attains BRAHM, the supreme, the highest height of all! Devoted--with a heart grown pure, restrained In lordly self-control, forgoing wiles Of song and senses, freed from love and hate, Dwelling 'mid solitudes, in diet spare, With body, speech, and will tamed to obey, Ever to holy meditation vowed, From passions liberate, quit of the Self, Of arrogance, impatience, anger, pride; Freed from surroundings, quiet, lacking nought-- Such an one grows to oneness with the BRAHM; Such an one, growing one with BRAHM, serene, Sorrows no more, desires no more; his soul, Equally loving all that lives, loves well Me, Who have made them, and attains to Me. By this same love and worship doth he know Me as I am, how high and wonderful, And knowing, straightway enters into Me. And whatsoever deeds he doeth--fixed In Me, as in his refuge--he hath won For ever and for ever by My grace Th' Eternal Rest! So win thou! In thy thoughts Do all thou dost for Me! Renounce for Me! Sacrifice heart and mind and will to Me! Live in the faith of Me! In faith of Me All dangers thou shalt vanquish, by My grace; But, trusting to thyself and heeding not, Thou can'st but perish! If this day thou say'st, Relying on thyself, "I will not fight!" Vain will the purpose prove! thy qualities Would spur thee to the war. What thou dost shun, Misled by fair illusions, thou wouldst seek Against thy will, when the task comes to thee Waking the promptings in thy nature set. There lives a Master in the hearts of men Maketh their deeds, by subtle pulling--strings, Dance to what tune HE will. With all thy soul Trust Him, and take Him for thy succour, Prince! So--only so, Arjuna!--shalt thou gain-- By grace of Him--the uttermost repose, The Eternal Place! Thus hath been opened thee This Truth of Truths, the Mystery more hid Than any secret mystery. Meditate! And--as thou wilt--then act! Nay! but once more Take My last word, My utmost meaning have! Precious thou art to Me; right well-beloved! Listen! I tell thee for thy comfort this. Give Me thy heart! adore Me! serve Me! cling In faith and love and reverence to Me! So shalt thou come to Me! I promise true, For thou art sweet to Me! And let go those-- Rites and writ duties! Fly to Me alone! Make Me thy single refuge! I will free Thy soul from all its sins! Be of good cheer! [Hide, the holy Krishna saith, This from him that hath no faith, Him that worships not, nor seeks Wisdom's teaching when she speaks: Hide it from all men who mock; But, wherever, 'mid the flock Of My lovers, one shall teach This divinest, wisest, speech-- Teaching in the faith to bring Truth to them, and offering Of all honour unto Me-- Unto Brahma cometh he! Nay, and nowhere shall ye find Any man of all mankind Doing dearer deed for Me; Nor shall any dearer be In My earth. Yea, furthermore, Whoso reads this converse o'er, Held by Us upon the plain, Pondering piously and fain, He hath paid Me sacrifice! (Krishna speaketh in this wise!) Yea, and whoso, full of faith, Heareth wisely what it saith, Heareth meekly,--when he dies, Surely shall his spirit rise To those regions where the Blest, Free of flesh, in joyance rest.] Hath this been heard by thee, O Indian Prince! With mind intent? hath all the ignorance-- Which bred thy trouble--vanished, My Arjun? Arjuna. Trouble and ignorance are gone! the Light Hath come unto me, by Thy favour, Lord! Now am I fixed! my doubt is fled away! According to Thy word, so will I do! Sanjaya. Thus gathered I the gracious speech of Krishna, O my King! Thus have I told, with heart a-thrill, this wise and wondrous thing By great Vyasa's learning writ, how Krishna's self made known The Yoga, being Yoga's Lord. So is the high truth shown! And aye, when I remember, O Lord my King, again Arjuna and the God in talk, and all this holy strain, Great is my gladness: when I muse that splendour, passing speech, Of Hari, visible and plain, there is no tongue to reach My marvel and my love and bliss. O Archer-Prince! all hail! O Krishna, Lord of Yoga! surely there shall not fail Blessing, and victory, and power, for Thy most mighty sake, Where this song comes of Arjun, and how with God he spake. HERE ENDS, WITH CHAPTER XVIII., Entitled "Mokshasanyasayog," Or "The Book of Religion by Deliverance and Renunciation," THE BHAGAVAD-GITA. [FN#1] Some repetitionary lines are here omitted. [FN#2] Technical phrases of Vedic religion. [FN#3] The whole of this passage is highly involved and difficult to render. [FN#4] I feel convinced sankhyanan and yoginan must be transposed here in sense. [FN#5] I am doubtful of accuracy here. [FN#6] A name of the sun. [FN#7] Without desire of fruit. [FN#8] That is,"joy and sorrow, success and failure, heat and cold,"&c. [FN#9] i.e., the body. [FN#10] The Sanskrit has this play on the double meaning of Atman. [FN#11] So in original. [FN#12] Beings of low and devilish nature. [FN#13] Krishna. [FN#14] I read here janma, "birth;" not jara,"age" [FN#15] I have discarded ten lines of Sanskrit text here as an undoubted interpolation by some Vedantist [FN#16] The Sanskrit poem here rises to an elevation of style and manner which I have endeavoured to mark by change of metre. [FN#17] Ahinsa. [FN#18] The nectar of immortality. [FN#19] Called "The Jap." [FN#20] The compound form of Sanskrit words. [FN#21] "Kamalapatraksha" [FN#22] These are all divine or deified orders of the Hindoo Pantheon. [FN#23] "Hail to Thee, God of Gods! Be favourable!" [FN#24] The wind. [FN#25] "Not peering about,"anapeksha. [FN#26] The Calcutta edition of the Mahabharata has these three opening lines. [FN#27] This is the nearest possible version of Kshetrakshetrajnayojnanan yat tajnan matan mama. [FN#28] I omit two lines of the Sanskrit here, evidently interpolated by some Vedantist. [FN#29] Wombs. [FN#30] I do not consider the Sanskrit verses here-which are somewhat freely rendered--"an attack on the authority of the Vedas," with Mr Davies, but a beautiful lyrical episode, a new "Parable of the fig-tree." [FN#31] I omit a verse here, evidently interpolated. [FN#32] "Of the Asuras," lit. [FN#33] I omit the ten concluding shlokas, with Mr Davis. [FN#34] Rakshasas and Yakshas are unembodied but capricious beings of great power, gifts, and beauty, same times also of benignity. [FN#35] These are spirits of evil wandering ghosts. [FN#36] Yatayaman, food which has remained after the watches of the night. In India this would probably "go bad." [FN#37] I omit the concluding shlokas, as of very doubtful authenticity. 
22217	----	* * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in | | this text. For a complete list, please see the bottom of | | this document. | | | | Letters with macrons are represented as [=a]. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * [Illustration: RABINDRANATH TAGORE FROM THE PORTRAIT IN COLOURS BY SASI KUMAR HESH] MY REMINISCENCES BY SIR RABINDRANATH TAGORE WITH FRONTISPIECE FROM THE PORTRAIT IN COLORS BY SASI KUMAR HESH New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1917 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1916 AND 1917 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Set up and electrotyped. Published April, 1917. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE These Reminiscences were written and published by the Author in his fiftieth year, shortly before he started on a trip to Europe and America for his failing health in 1912. It was in the course of this trip that he wrote for the first time in the English language for publication. In these memory pictures, so lightly, even casually presented by the author there is, nevertheless, revealed a connected history of his inner life together with that of the varying literary forms in which his growing self found successive expression, up to the point at which both his soul and poetry attained maturity. This lightness of manner and importance of matter form a combination the translation of which into a different language is naturally a matter of considerable difficulty. It was, in any case, a task which the present Translator, not being an original writer in the English language, would hardly have ventured to undertake, had there not been other considerations. The translator's familiarity, however, with the persons, scenes, and events herein depicted made it a temptation difficult for him to resist, as well as a responsibility which he did not care to leave to others not possessing these advantages, and therefore more liable to miss a point, or give a wrong impression. The Translator, moreover, had the author's permission and advice to make a free translation, a portion of which was completed and approved by the latter before he left India on his recent tour to Japan and America. In regard to the nature of the freedom taken for the purposes of the translation, it may be mentioned that those suggestions which might not have been as clear to the foreign as to the Bengali reader have been brought out in a slightly more elaborate manner than in the original text; while again, in rare cases, others which depend on allusions entirely unfamiliar to the non-Indian reader, have been omitted rather than spoil by an over-elaboration the simplicity and naturalness which is the great feature of the original. There are no footnotes in the original. All the footnotes here given have been added by the Translator in the hope that they may be of further assistance to the foreign reader. CONTENTS PAGE Translator's Preface v PART I 1. 1 2. Teaching Begins 3 3. Within and Without 8 PART II 4. Servocracy 25 5. The Normal School 30 6. Versification 35 7. Various Learning 38 8. My First Outing 44 9. Practising Poetry 48 PART III 10. Srikantha Babu 53 11. Our Bengali Course Ends 57 12. The Professor 60 13. My Father 67 14. A Journey with my Father 76 15. At the Himalayas 89 PART IV 16. My Return 101 17. Home Studies 111 18. My Home Environment 116 19. Literary Companions 125 20. Publishing 133 21. Bhanu Singha 135 22. Patriotism 138 23. The Bharati 147 PART V 24. Ahmedabad 155 25. England 157 26. Loken Palit 175 27. The Broken Heart 177 PART VI 28. European Music 189 29. Valmiki Pratibha 192 30. Evening Songs 199 31. An Essay on Music 203 32. The River-side 207 33. More About the Evening Songs 210 34. Morning Songs 214 PART VII 35. Rajendrahal Mitra 231 36. Karwar 235 37. Nature's Revenge 238 38. Pictures and Songs 241 39. An Intervening Period 244 40. Bankim Chandra 247 PART VIII 41. The Steamer Hulk 255 42. Bereavements 257 43. The Rains and Autumn 264 44. Sharps and Flats 267 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Rabindranath Tagore from the Portrait by S. K. Hesh _Frontispiece_ _Facing Page_ Tagore in 1877 6 The Inner Garden Was My Paradise 14 The Ganges 54 Satya 64 Singing to My Father 82 The Himalayas 94 The Servant-Maids in the Verandah 106 My Eldest Brother 120 Moonlight 180 The Ganges Again 208 Karwar Beach 236 My Brother Jyotirindra 256 PART I MY REMINISCENCES (1) I know not who paints the pictures on memory's canvas; but whoever he may be, what he is painting are pictures; by which I mean that he is not there with his brush simply to make a faithful copy of all that is happening. He takes in and leaves out according to his taste. He makes many a big thing small and small thing big. He has no compunction in putting into the background that which was to the fore, or bringing to the front that which was behind. In short he is painting pictures, and not writing history. Thus, over Life's outward aspect passes the series of events, and within is being painted a set of pictures. The two correspond but are not one. We do not get the leisure to view thoroughly this studio within us. Portions of it now and then catch our eye, but the greater part remains out of sight in the darkness. Why the ever-busy painter is painting; when he will have done; for what gallery his pictures are destined--who can tell? Some years ago, on being questioned as to the events of my past life, I had occasion to pry into this picture-chamber. I had thought to be content with selecting some few materials for my Life's story. I then discovered, as I opened the door, that Life's memories are not Life's history, but the original work of an unseen Artist. The variegated colours scattered about are not reflections of outside lights, but belong to the painter himself, and come passion-tinged from his heart; thereby unfitting the record on the canvas for use as evidence in a court of law. But though the attempt to gather precise history from memory's storehouse may be fruitless, there is a fascination in looking over the pictures, a fascination which cast its spell on me. The road over which we journey, the wayside shelter in which we pause, are not pictures while yet we travel--they are too necessary, too obvious. When, however, before turning into the evening resthouse, we look back upon the cities, fields, rivers and hills which we have been through in Life's morning, then, in the light of the passing day, are they pictures indeed. Thus, when my opportunity came, did I look back, and was engrossed. Was this interest aroused within me solely by a natural affection for my own past? Some personal feeling, of course, there must have been, but the pictures had also an independent artistic value of their own. There is no event in my reminiscences worthy of being preserved for all time. But the quality of the subject is not the only justification for a record. What one has truly felt, if only it can be made sensible to others, is always of importance to one's fellow men. If pictures which have taken shape in memory can be brought out in words, they are worth a place in literature. It is as literary material that I offer my memory pictures. To take them as an attempt at autobiography would be a mistake. In such a view these reminiscences would appear useless as well as incomplete. (2) _Teaching Begins_ We three boys were being brought up together. Both my companions were two years older than I. When they were placed under their tutor, my teaching also began, but of what I learnt nothing remains in my memory. What constantly recurs to me is "The rain patters, the leaf quivers."[1] I am just come to anchor after crossing the stormy region of the _kara_, _khala_[2] series; and I am reading "The rain patters, the leaf quivers," for me the first poem of the Arch Poet. Whenever the joy of that day comes back to me, even now, I realise why rhyme is so needful in poetry. Because of it the words come to an end, and yet end not; the utterance is over, but not its ring; and the ear and the mind can go on and on with their game of tossing the rhyme to each other. Thus did the rain patter and the leaves quiver again and again, the live-long day in my consciousness. Another episode of this period of my early boyhood is held fast in my mind. We had an old cashier, Kailash by name, who was like one of the family. He was a great wit, and would be constantly cracking jokes with everybody, old and young; recently married sons-in-law, new comers into the family circle, being his special butts. There was room for the suspicion that his humour had not deserted him even after death. Once my elders were engaged in an attempt to start a postal service with the other world by means of a planchette. At one of the sittings the pencil scrawled out the name of Kailash. He was asked as to the sort of life one led where he was. Not a bit of it, was the reply. "Why should you get so cheap what I had to die to learn?" This Kailash used to rattle off for my special delectation a doggerel ballad of his own composition. The hero was myself and there was a glowing anticipation of the arrival of a heroine. And as I listened my interest would wax intense at the picture of this world-charming bride illuminating the lap of the future in which she sat enthroned. The list of the jewellery with which she was bedecked from head to foot, and the unheard of splendour of the preparations for the bridal, might have turned older and wiser heads; but what moved the boy, and set wonderful joy pictures flitting before his vision, was the rapid jingle of the frequent rhymes and the swing of the rhythm. These two literary delights still linger in my memory--and there is the other, the infants' classic: "The rain falls pit-a-pat, the tide comes up the river." The next thing I remember is the beginning of my school-life. One day I saw my elder brother, and my sister's son Satya, also a little older than myself, starting off to school, leaving me behind, accounted unfit. I had never before ridden in a carriage nor even been out of the house. So when Satya came back, full of unduly glowing accounts of his adventures on the way, I felt I simply could not stay at home. Our tutor tried to dispel my illusion with sound advice and a resounding slap: "You're crying to go to school now, you'll have to cry a lot more to be let off later on." I have no recollection of the name, features or disposition of this tutor of ours, but the impression of his weighty advice and weightier hand has not yet faded. Never in my life have I heard a truer prophecy. My crying drove me prematurely into the Oriental Seminary. What I learnt there I have no idea, but one of its methods of punishment I still bear in mind. The boy who was unable to repeat his lessons was made to stand on a bench with arms extended, and on his upturned palms were piled a number of slates. It is for psychologists to debate how far this method is likely to conduce to a better grasp of things. I thus began my schooling at an extremely tender age. My initiation into literature had its origin, at the same time, in the books which were in vogue in the servants' quarters. Chief among these were a Bengali translation of Chanakya's aphorisms, and the Ramayana of Krittivasa. A picture of one day's reading of the Ramayana comes clearly back to me. [Illustration: Rabindranath Tagore in 1877] The day was a cloudy one. I was playing about in the long verandah[3] overlooking the road. All of a sudden Satya, for some reason I do not remember, wanted to frighten me by shouting, "Policeman! Policeman!" My ideas of the duties of policemen were of an extremely vague description. One thing I was certain about, that a person charged with crime once placed in a policeman's hands would, as sure as the wretch caught in a crocodile's serrated grip, go under and be seen no more. Not knowing how an innocent boy could escape this relentless penal code, I bolted towards the inner apartments, with shudders running down my back for blind fear of pursuing policemen. I broke to my mother the news of my impending doom, but it did not seem to disturb her much. However, not deeming it safe to venture out again, I sat down on the sill of my mother's door to read the dog-eared Ramayana, with a marbled paper cover, which belonged to her old aunt. Alongside stretched the verandah running round the four sides of the open inner quadrangle, on which had fallen the faint afternoon glow of the clouded sky, and finding me weeping over one of its sorrowful situations my great-aunt came and took away the book from me. (3) _Within and Without_ Luxury was a thing almost unknown in the days of my infancy. The standard of living was then, as a whole, much more simple than it is now. Apart from that, the children of our household were entirely free from the fuss of being too much looked after. The fact is that, while the process of looking after may be an occasional treat for the guardians, to the children it is always an unmitigated nuisance. We used to be under the rule of the servants. To save themselves trouble they had almost suppressed our right of free movement. But the freedom of not being petted made up even for the harshness of this bondage, for our minds were left clear of the toils of constant coddling, pampering and dressing-up. Our food had nothing to do with delicacies. A list of our articles of clothing would only invite the modern boy's scorn. On no pretext did we wear socks or shoes till we had passed our tenth year. In the cold weather a second cotton tunic over the first one sufficed. It never entered our heads to consider ourselves ill-off for that reason. It was only when old Niyamat, the tailor, would forget to put a pocket into one of our tunics that we complained, for no boy has yet been born so poor as not to have the wherewithal to stuff his pockets; nor, by a merciful dispensation of providence, is there much difference between the wealth of boys of rich and of poor parentage. We used to have a pair of slippers each, but not always where we had our feet. Our habit of kicking the slippers on ahead, and catching them up again, made them work none the less hard, through effectually defeating at every step the reason of their being. Our elders were in every way at a great distance from us, in their dress and food, living and doing, conversation and amusement. We caught glimpses of these, but they were beyond our reach. Elders have become cheap to modern children; they are too readily accessible, and so are all objects of desire. Nothing ever came so easily to us. Many a trivial thing was for us a rarity, and we lived mostly in the hope of attaining, when we were old enough, the things which the distant future held in trust for us. The result was that what little we did get we enjoyed to the utmost; from skin to core nothing was thrown away. The modern child of a well-to-do family nibbles at only half the things he gets; the greater part of his world is wasted on him. Our days were spent in the servants' quarters in the south-east corner of the outer apartments. One of our servants was Shyam, a dark chubby boy with curly locks, hailing from the District of Khulna. He would put me into a selected spot and, tracing a chalk line all round, warn me with solemn face and uplifted finger of the perils of transgressing this ring. Whether the threatened danger was material or spiritual I never fully understood, but a great fear used to possess me. I had read in the Ramayana of the tribulations of Sita for having left the ring drawn by Lakshman, so it was not possible for me to be sceptical of its potency. Just below the window of this room was a tank with a flight of masonry steps leading down into the water; on its west bank, along the garden wall, an immense banyan tree; to the south a fringe of cocoanut palms. Ringed round as I was near this window I would spend the whole day peering through the drawn Venetian shutters, gazing and gazing on this scene as on a picture book. From early morning our neighbours would drop in one by one to have their bath. I knew the time for each one to arrive. I was familiar with the peculiarities of each one's toilet. One would stop up his ears with his fingers as he took his regulation number of dips, after which he would depart. Another would not venture on a complete immersion but be content with only squeezing his wet towel repeatedly over his head. A third would carefully drive the surface impurities away from him with a rapid play of his arms, and then on a sudden impulse take his plunge. There was one who jumped in from the top steps without any preliminaries at all. Another would walk slowly in, step by step, muttering his morning prayers the while. One was always in a hurry, hastening home as soon as he was through with his dip. Another was in no sort of hurry at all, taking his bath leisurely, followed with a good rub-down, and a change from wet bathing clothes into clean ones, including a careful adjustment of the folds of his waist cloth, ending with a turn or two in the outer[4] garden, and the gathering of flowers, with which he would finally saunter slowly homewards, radiating the cool comfort of his refreshed body, as he went. This would go on till it was past noon. Then the bathing places would be deserted and become silent. Only the ducks remained, paddling about after water snails, or busy preening their feathers, the live-long day. When solitude thus reigned over the water, my whole attention would be drawn to the shadows under the banyan tree. Some of its aerial roots, creeping down along its trunk, had formed a dark complication of coils at its base. It seemed as if into this mysterious region the laws of the universe had not found entrance; as if some old-world dream-land had escaped the divine vigilance and lingered on into the light of modern day. Whom I used to see there, and what those beings did, it is not possible to express in intelligible language. It was about this banyan tree that I wrote later: With tangled roots hanging down from your branches, O ancient banyan tree, You stand still day and night, like an ascetic at his penances, Do you ever remember the child whose fancy played with your shadows? Alas! that banyan tree is no more, nor the piece of water which served to mirror the majestic forest-lord! Many of those who used to bathe there have also followed into oblivion the shade of the banyan tree. And that boy, grown older, is counting the alternations of light and darkness which penetrate the complexities with which the roots he has thrown off on all sides have encircled him. Going out of the house was forbidden to us, in fact we had not even the freedom of all its parts. We perforce took our peeps at nature from behind the barriers. Beyond my reach there was this limitless thing called the Outside, of which flashes and sounds and scents used momentarily to come and touch me through its interstices. It seemed to want to play with me through the bars with so many gestures. But it was free and I was bound--there was no way of meeting. So the attraction was all the stronger. The chalk line has been wiped away to-day, but the confining ring is still there. The distant is just as distant, the outside is still beyond me; and I am reminded of the poem I wrote when I was older: The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest, They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate. The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood." The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the cage." Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?" "Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit perched in the sky." The parapets of our terraced roofs were higher than my head. When I had grown taller; when the tyranny of the servants had relaxed; when, with the coming of a newly married bride into the house, I had achieved some recognition as a companion of her leisure, then did I sometimes come up to the terrace in the middle of the day. By that time everybody in the house would have finished their meal; there would be an interval in the business of the household; over the inner apartments would rest the quiet of the midday siesta; the wet bathing clothes would be hanging over the parapets to dry; the crows would be picking at the leavings thrown on the refuse heap at the corner of the yard; in the solitude of that interval the caged bird would, through the gaps in the parapet, commune bill to bill with the free bird! [Illustration: The Inner Garden was My Paradise] I would stand and gaze.... My glance first falls on the row of cocoanut trees on the further edge of our inner garden. Through these are seen the "Singhi's Garden" with its cluster of huts[5] and tank, and on the edge of the tank the dairy of our milkwoman, Tara; still further on, mixed up with the tree-tops, the various shapes and different heights of the terraced roofs of Calcutta, flashing back the blazing whiteness of the midday sun, stretch right away into the grayish blue of the eastern horizon. And some of these far distant dwellings from which stand forth their roofed stair-ways leading up to the terrace, look as if with uplifted finger and a wink they are hinting to me of the mysteries of their interiors. Like the beggar at the palace door who imagines impossible treasures to be held in the strong rooms closed to him, I can hardly tell of the wealth of play and freedom which these unknown dwellings seem to me crowded with. From the furthest depth of the sky full of burning sunshine overhead the thin shrill cry of a kite reaches my ear; and from the lane adjoining Singhi's Garden comes up, past the houses silent in their noonday slumber, the sing-song of the bangle-seller--_chai choori chai_ ... and my whole being would fly away from the work-a-day world. My father hardly ever stayed at home, he was constantly roaming about. His rooms on the third storey used to remain shut up. I would pass my hands through the venetian shutters, and thus opening the latch get the door open, and spend the afternoon lying motionless on his sofa at the south end. First of all it was a room always closed, and then there was the stolen entry, this gave it a deep flavour of mystery; further the broad empty expanse of terrace to the south, glowing in the rays of the sun would set me day-dreaming. There was yet another attraction. The water-works had just been started in Calcutta, and in the first exuberance of its triumphant entry it did not stint even the Indian quarters of their supply. In that golden age of pipe water, it used to flow even up to my father's third storey rooms. And turning on the shower tap I would indulge to my heart's content in an untimely bath. Not so much for the comfort of it, as to give rein to my desire to do just as I fancied. The alternation of the joy of liberty, and the fear of being caught, made that shower of municipal water send arrows of delight thrilling into me. It was perhaps because the possibility of contact with the outside was so remote that the joy of it came to me so much more readily. When material is in profusion, the mind gets lazy and leaves everything to it, forgetting that for a successful feast of joy its internal equipment counts for more than the external. This is the chief lesson which his infant state has to teach to man. There his possessions are few and trivial, yet he needs no more for his happiness. The world of play is spoilt for the unfortunate youngster who is burdened with an unlimited quantity of playthings. To call our inner garden a garden is to say a deal too much. Its properties consisted of a citron tree, a couple of plum trees of different varieties, and a row of cocoanut trees. In the centre was a paved circle the cracks of which various grasses and weeds had invaded and planted in them their victorious standards. Only those flowering plants which refused to die of neglect continued uncomplainingly to perform their respective duties without casting any aspersions on the gardener. In the northern corner was a rice-husking shed, where the inmates of the inner apartments would occasionally foregather when household necessity demanded. This last vestige of rural life has since owned defeat and slunk away ashamed and unnoticed. None the less I suspect that Adam's garden of Eden could hardly have been better adorned than this one of ours; for he and his paradise were alike naked; they needed not to be furnished with material things. It is only since his tasting of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, and till he can fully digest it, that man's need for external furniture and embellishment persistently grows. Our inner garden was my paradise; it was enough for me. I well remember how in the early autumn dawn I would run there as soon as I was awake. A scent of dewy grass and foliage would rush to meet me, and the morning with its cool fresh sunlight would peep out at me over the top of the Eastern garden wall from below the trembling tassels of the cocoanut palms. There is another piece of vacant land to the north of the house which to this day we call the _golabari_ (barn house). The name shows that in some remote past this must have been the place where the year's store of grain used to be kept in a barn. Then, as with brother and sister in infancy, the likeness between town and country was visible all over. Now the family resemblance can hardly be traced. This _golabari_ would be my holiday haunt if I got the chance. It would hardly be correct to say that I went there to play--it was the place not play, which drew me. Why this was so, is difficult to tell. Perhaps its being a deserted bit of waste land lying in an out-of-the-way corner gave it its charm for me. It was entirely outside the living quarters and bore no stamp of usefulness; moreover it was as unadorned as it was useless, for no one had ever planted anything there; it was doubtless for these reasons that this desert spot offered no resistance to the free play of the boy's imagination. Whenever I got any loop-hole to evade the vigilance of my warders and could contrive to reach the _golabari_ I felt I had a holiday indeed. There was yet another place in our house which I have even yet not succeeded in finding out. A little girl playmate of my own age called this the "King's palace."[6] "I have just been there," she would sometimes tell me. But somehow the propitious moment never turned up when she could take me along with her. That was a wonderful place, and its playthings were as wonderful as the games that were played there. It seemed to me it must be somewhere very near--perhaps in the first or second storey; the only thing was one never seemed to be able to get there. How often have I asked my companion, "Only tell me, is it really inside the house or outside?" And she would always reply, "No, no, it's in this very house." I would sit and wonder: "Where then can it be? Don't I know all the rooms of the house?" Who the king might be I never cared to inquire; where his palace is still remains undiscovered; this much was clear--the king's palace was within our house. Looking back on childhood's days the thing that recurs most often is the mystery which used to fill both life and world. Something undreamt of was lurking everywhere and the uppermost question every day was: when, Oh! when would we come across it? It was as if nature held something in her closed hands and was smilingly asking us: "What d'you think I have?" What was impossible for her to have was the thing we had no idea of. Well do I remember the custard apple seed which I had planted and kept in a corner of the south verandah, and used to water every day. The thought that the seed might possibly grow into a tree kept me in a great state of fluttering wonder. Custard apple seeds still have the habit of sprouting, but no longer to the accompaniment of that feeling of wonder. The fault is not in the custard apple but in the mind. We had once stolen some rocks from an elder cousin's rockery and started a little rockery of our own. The plants which we sowed in its interstices were cared for so excessively that it was only because of their vegetable nature that they managed to put up with it till their untimely death. Words cannot recount the endless joy and wonder which this miniature mountain-top held for us. We had no doubt that this creation of ours would be a wonderful thing to our elders also. The day that we sought to put this to the proof, however, the hillock in the corner of our room, with all its rocks, and all its vegetation, vanished. The knowledge that the schoolroom floor was not a proper foundation for the erection of a mountain was imparted so rudely, and with such suddenness, that it gave us a considerable shock. The weight of stone of which the floor was relieved settled on our minds when we realised the gulf between our fancies and the will of our elders. How intimately did the life of the world throb for us in those days! Earth, water, foliage and sky, they all spoke to us and would not be disregarded. How often were we struck by the poignant regret that we could only see the upper storey of the earth and knew nothing of its inner storey. All our planning was as to how we could pry beneath its dust-coloured cover. If, thought we, we could drive in bamboo after bamboo, one over the other, we might perhaps get into some sort of touch with its inmost depths. During the _Magh_ festival a series of wooden pillars used to be planted round the outer courtyard for supporting the chandeliers. Digging holes for these would begin on the first of _Magh_. The preparations for festivity are ever interesting to young folk. But this digging had a special attraction for me. Though I had watched it done year after year--and seen the hole grow bigger and bigger till the digger had completely disappeared inside, and yet nothing extraordinary, nothing worthy of the quest of prince or knight, had ever appeared--yet every time I had the feeling that the lid being lifted off a chest of mystery. I felt that a little bit more digging would do it. Year after year passed, but that bit never got done. There was a pull at the curtain but it was not drawn. The elders, thought I, can do whatever they please, why do they rest content with such shallow delving? If we young folk had the ordering of it, the inmost mystery of the earth would no longer be allowed to remain smothered in its dust covering. And the thought that behind every part of the vault of blue reposed the mysteries of the sky would also spur our imaginings. When our Pundit, in illustration of some lesson in our Bengali science primer, told us that the blue sphere was not an enclosure, how thunderstruck we were! "Put ladder upon ladder," said he, "and go on mounting away, but you will never bump your head." He must be sparing of his ladders, I opined, and questioned with a rising inflection, "And what if we put more ladders, and more, and more?" When I realised that it was fruitless multiplying ladders I remained dumbfounded pondering over the matter. Surely, I concluded, such an astounding piece of news must be known only to those who are the world's schoolmasters! PART II (4) _Servocracy_ In the history of India the regime of the Slave Dynasty was not a happy one. In going back to the reign of the servants in my own life's history I can find nothing glorious or cheerful touching the period. There were frequent changes of king, but never a variation in the code of restraints and punishments with which we were afflicted. We, however, had no opportunity at the time for philosophising on the subject; our backs bore as best they could the blows which befell them: and we accepted as one of the laws of the universe that it is for the Big to hurt and for the Small to be hurt. It has taken me a long time to learn the opposite truth that it is the Big who suffer and the Small who cause suffering. The quarry does not view virtue and vice from the standpoint of the hunter. That is why the alert bird, whose cry warns its fellows before the shot has sped, gets abused as vicious. We howled when we were beaten, which our chastisers did not consider good manners; it was in fact counted sedition against the servocracy. I cannot forget how, in order effectively to suppress such sedition, our heads used to be crammed into the huge water jars then in use; distasteful, doubtless, was this outcry to those who caused it; moreover, it was likely to have unpleasant consequences. I now sometimes wonder why such cruel treatment was meted out to us by the servants. I cannot admit that there was on the whole anything in our behaviour or demeanour to have put us beyond the pale of human kindness. The real reason must have been that the whole of our burden was thrown on the servants, and the whole burden is a thing difficult to bear even for those who are nearest and dearest. If children are only allowed to be children, to run and play about and satisfy their curiosity, it becomes quite simple. Insoluble problems are only created if you try to confine them inside, keep them still or hamper their play. Then does the burden of the child, so lightly borne by its own childishness, fall heavily on the guardian--like that of the horse in the fable which was carried instead of being allowed to trot on its own legs: and though money procured bearers even for such a burden it could not prevent them taking it out of the unlucky beast at every step. Of most of these tyrants of our childhood I remember only their cuffings and boxings, and nothing more. Only one personality stands out in my memory. His name was Iswar. He had been a village schoolmaster before. He was a prim, proper and sedately dignified personage. The Earth seemed too earthy for him, with too little water to keep it sufficiently clean; so that he had to be in a constant state of warfare with its chronic soiled state. He would shoot his water-pot into the tank with a lightning movement so as to get his supply from an uncontaminated depth. It was he who, when bathing in the tank, would be continually thrusting away the surface impurities till he took a sudden plunge expecting, as it were, to catch the water unawares. When walking his right arm stood out at an angle from his body, as if, so it seemed to us, he could not trust the cleanliness even of his own garments. His whole bearing had the appearance of an effort to keep clear of the imperfections which, through unguarded avenues, find entrance into earth, water and air, and into the ways of men. Unfathomable was the depth of his gravity. With head slightly tilted he would mince his carefully selected words in a deep voice. His literary diction would give food for merriment to our elders behind his back, some of his high-flown phrases finding a permanent place in our family repertoire of witticisms. But I doubt whether the expressions he used would sound as remarkable to-day; showing how the literary and spoken languages, which used to be as sky from earth asunder, are now coming nearer each other. This erstwhile schoolmaster had discovered a way of keeping us quiet in the evenings. Every evening he would gather us round the cracked castor-oil lamp and read out to us stories from the Ramayana and Mahabharata. Some of the other servants would also come and join the audience. The lamp would be throwing huge shadows right up to the beams of the roof, the little house lizards catching insects on the walls, the bats doing a mad dervish dance round and round the verandahs outside, and we listening in silent open-mouthed wonder. I still remember, on the evening we came to the story of Kusha and Lava, and those two valiant lads were threatening to humble to the dust the renown of their father and uncles, how the tense silence of that dimly lighted room was bursting with eager anticipation. It was getting late, our prescribed period of wakefulness was drawing to a close, and yet the denouement was far off. At this critical juncture my father's old follower Kishori came to the rescue, and finished the episode for us, at express speed, to the quickstep of Dasuraya's jingling verses. The impression of the soft slow chant of Krittivasa's[7] fourteen-syllabled measure was swept clean away and we were left overwhelmed by a flood of rhymes and alliterations. On some occasions these readings would give rise to shastric discussions, which would at length be settled by the depth of Iswar's wise pronouncements. Though, as one of the children's servants, his rank in our domestic society was below that of many, yet, as with old Grandfather Bhisma in the Mahabharata, his supremacy would assert itself from his seat, below his juniors. Our grave and reverend servitor had one weakness to which, for the sake of historical accuracy, I feel bound to allude. He used to take opium. This created a craving for rich food. So that when he brought us our morning goblets of milk the forces of attraction in his mind would be greater than those of repulsion. If we gave the least expression to our natural repugnance for this meal, no sense of responsibility for our health could prompt him to press it on us a second time. Iswar also held somewhat narrow views as to our capacity for solid nourishment. We would sit down to our evening repast and a quantity of _luchis_[8] heaped on a thick round wooden tray would be placed before us. He would begin by gingerly dropping a few on each platter, from a sufficient height to safeguard himself from contamination[9]--like unwilling favours, wrested from the gods by dint of importunity, did they descend, so dexterously inhospitable was he. Next would come the inquiry whether he should give us any more. I knew the reply which would be most gratifying, and could not bring myself to deprive him by asking for another help. Then again Iswar was entrusted with a daily allowance of money for procuring our afternoon light refreshment. He would ask us every morning what we should like to have. We knew that to mention the cheapest would be accounted best, so sometimes we ordered a light refection of puffed rice, and at others an indigestible one of boiled gram or roasted groundnuts. It was evident that Iswar was not as painstakingly punctilious in regard to our diet as with the shastric proprieties. (5) _The Normal School_ While at the Oriental Seminary I had discovered a way out of the degradation of being a mere pupil. I had started a class of my own in a corner of our verandah. The wooden bars of the railing were my pupils, and I would act the schoolmaster, cane in hand, seated on a chair in front of them. I had decided which were the good boys and which the bad--nay, further, I could distinguish clearly the quiet from the naughty, the clever from the stupid. The bad rails had suffered so much from my constant caning that they must have longed to give up the ghost had they been alive. And the more scarred they got with my strokes the worse they angered me, till I knew not how to punish them enough. None remain to bear witness to-day how tremendously I tyrannised over that poor dumb class of mine. My wooden pupils have since been replaced by cast-iron railings, nor have any of the new generation taken up their education in the same way--they could never have made the same impression. I have since realised how much easier it is to acquire the manner than the matter. Without an effort had I assimilated all the impatience, the short temper, the partiality and the injustice displayed by my teachers to the exclusion of the rest of their teaching. My only consolation is that I had not the power of venting these barbarities on any sentient creature. Nevertheless the difference between my wooden pupils and those of the Seminary did not prevent my psychology from being identical with that of its schoolmasters. I could not have been long at the Oriental Seminary, for I was still of tender age when I joined the Normal School. The only one of its features which I remember is that before the classes began all the boys had to sit in a row in the gallery and go through some kind of singing or chanting of verses--evidently an attempt at introducing an element of cheerfulness into the daily routine. Unfortunately the words were English and the tune quite as foreign, so that we had not the faintest notion what sort of incantation we were practising; neither did the meaningless monotony of the performance tend to make us cheerful. This failed to disturb the serene self-satisfaction of the school authorities at having provided such a treat; they deemed it superfluous to inquire into the practical effect of their bounty; they would probably have counted it a crime for the boys not to be dutifully happy. Anyhow they rested content with taking the song as they found it, words and all, from the self-same English book which had furnished the theory. The language into which this English resolved itself in our mouths cannot but be edifying to philologists. I can recall only one line: _Kallokee pullokee singill mellaling mellaling mellaling._ After much thought I have been able to guess at the original of a part of it. Of what words _kallokee_ is the transformation still baffles me. The rest I think was: _... full of glee, singing merrily, merrily, merrily!_ As my memories of the Normal School emerge from haziness and become clearer they are not the least sweet in any particular. Had I been able to associate with the other boys, the woes of learning might not have seemed so intolerable. But that turned out to be impossible--so nasty were most of the boys in their manners and habits. So, in the intervals of the classes, I would go up to the second storey and while away the time sitting near a window overlooking the street. I would count: one year--two years--three years--; wondering how many such would have to be got through like this. Of the teachers I remember only one, whose language was so foul that, out of sheer contempt for him, I steadily refused to answer any one of his questions. Thus I sat silent throughout the year at the bottom of his class, and while the rest of the class was busy I would be left alone to attempt the solution of many an intricate problem. One of these, I remember, on which I used to cogitate profoundly, was how to defeat an enemy without having arms. My preoccupation with this question, amidst the hum of the boys reciting their lessons, comes back to me even now. If I could properly train up a number of dogs, tigers and other ferocious beasts, and put a few lines of these on the field of battle, that, I thought, would serve very well as an inspiriting prelude. With our personal prowess let loose thereafter, victory should by no means be out of reach. And, as the picture of this wonderfully simple strategy waxed vivid in my imagination, the victory of my side became assured beyond doubt. While work had not yet come into my life I always found it easy to devise short cuts to achievement; since I have been working I find that what is hard is hard indeed, and what is difficult remains difficult. This, of course, is less comforting; but nowhere near so bad as the discomfort of trying to take shortcuts. When at length a year of that class had passed, we were examined in Bengali by Pandit Madhusudan Vachaspati. I got the largest number of marks of all the boys. The teacher complained to the school authorities that there had been favouritism in my case. So I was examined a second time, with the superintendent of the school seated beside the examiner. This time, also, I got a top place. (6) _Versification_ I could not have been more than eight years old at the time. Jyoti, a son of a niece of my father's, was considerably older than I. He had just gained an entrance into English literature, and would recite Hamlet's soliloquy with great gusto. Why he should have taken it into his head to get a child, as I was, to write poetry I cannot tell. One afternoon he sent for me to his room, and asked me to try and make up a verse; after which he explained to me the construction of the _payar_ metre of fourteen syllables. I had up to then only seen poems in printed books--no mistakes penned through, no sign to the eye of doubt or trouble or any human weakness. I could not have dared even to imagine that any effort of mine could produce such poetry. One day a thief had been caught in our house. Overpowered by curiosity, yet in fear and trembling, I ventured to the spot to take a peep at him. I found he was just an ordinary man! And when he was somewhat roughly handled by our door-keeper I felt a great pity. I had a similar experience with poetry. When, after stringing together a few words at my own sweet will, I found them turned into a _payar_ verse I felt I had no illusions left about the glories of poetising. So when poor Poetry is mishandled, even now I feel as unhappy as I did about the thief. Many a time have I been moved to pity and yet been unable to restrain impatient hands itching for the assault. Thieves have scarcely suffered so much, and from so many. The first feeling of awe once overcome there was no holding me back. I managed to get hold of a blue-paper manuscript book by the favour of one of the officers of our estate. With my own hands I ruled it with pencil lines, at not very regular intervals, and thereon I began to write verses in a large childish scrawl. Like a young deer which butts here, there and everywhere with its newly sprouting horns, I made myself a nuisance with my budding poetry. More so my elder[10] brother, whose pride in my performance impelled him to hunt about the house for an audience. I recollect how, as the pair of us, one day, were coming out of the estate offices on the ground floor, after a conquering expedition against the officers, we came across the editor of "The National Paper," Nabagopal Mitter, who had just stepped into the house. My brother tackled him without further ado: "Look here, Nabagopal Babu! won't you listen to a poem which Rabi has written?" The reading forthwith followed. My works had not as yet become voluminous. The poet could carry all his effusions about in his pockets. I was writer, printer and publisher, all in one; my brother, as advertiser, being my only colleague. I had composed some verses on The Lotus which I recited to Nabagopal Babu then and there, at the foot of the stairs, in a voice pitched as high as my enthusiasm. "Well done!" said he with a smile. "But what is a _dwirepha_?"[11] How I had got hold of this word I do not remember. The ordinary name would have fitted the metre quite as well. But this was the one word in the whole poem on which I had pinned my hopes. It had doubtless duly impressed our officers. But curiously enough Nabagopal Babu did not succumb to it--on the contrary he smiled! He could not be an understanding man, I felt sure. I never read poetry to him again. I have since added many years to my age but have not been able to improve upon my test of what does or does not constitute understanding in my hearer. However Nabagopal Babu might smile, the word _dwirepha_, like a bee drunk with honey, stuck to its place, unmoved. (7) _Various Learning_ One of the teachers of the Normal School also gave us private lessons at home. His body was lean, his features dry, his voice sharp. He looked like a cane incarnate. His hours were from six to half-past-nine in the morning. With him our reading ranged from popular literary and science readers in Bengali to the epic of Meghnadvadha. My third brother was very keen on imparting to us a variety of knowledge. So at home we had to go through much more than what was required by the school course. We had to get up before dawn and, clad in loin-cloths, begin with a bout or two with a blind wrestler. Without a pause we donned our tunics on our dusty bodies, and started on our courses of literature, mathematics, geography and history. On our return from school our drawing and gymnastic masters would be ready for us. In the evening Aghore Babu came for our English lessons. It was only after nine that we were free. On Sunday morning we had singing lessons with Vishnu. Then, almost every Sunday, came Sitanath Dutta to give us demonstrations in physical science. The last were of great interest to me. I remember distinctly the feeling of wonder which filled me when he put some water, with sawdust in it, on the fire in a glass vessel, and showed us how the lightened hot water came up, and the cold water went down and how finally the water began to boil. I also felt a great elation the day I learnt that water is a separable part of milk, and that milk thickens when boiled because the water frees itself as vapour from the connexion. Sunday did not feel Sunday-like unless Sitanath Babu turned up. There was also an hour when we would be told all about human bones by a pupil of the Campbell Medical School, for which purpose a skeleton, with the bones fastened together by wires was hung up in our schoolroom. And finally, time was also found for Pandit Heramba Tatwaratna to come and get us to learn by rote rules of Sanscrit grammar. I am not sure which of them, the names of the bones or the _sutras_ of the grammarian, were the more jaw-breaking. I think the latter took the palm. We began to learn English after we had made considerable progress in learning through the medium of Bengali. Aghore Babu, our English tutor, was attending the Medical College, so he came to teach us in the evening. Books tell us that the discovery of fire was one of the biggest discoveries of man. I do not wish to dispute this. But I cannot help feeling how fortunate the little birds are that their parents cannot light lamps of an evening. They have their language lessons early in the morning and you must have noticed how gleefully they learn them. Of course we must not forget that they do not have to learn the English language! The health of this medical-student tutor of ours was so good that even the fervent and united wishes of his three pupils were not enough to cause his absence even for a day. Only once was he laid up with a broken head when, on the occasion of a fight between the Indian and Eurasian students of the Medical College, a chair was thrown at him. It was a regrettable occurrence; nevertheless we were not able to take it as a personal sorrow, and his recovery somehow seemed to us needlessly swift. It is evening. The rain is pouring in lance-like showers. Our lane is under knee-deep water. The tank has overflown into the garden, and the bushy tops of the Bael trees are seen standing out over the waters. Our whole being, on this delightful rainy evening, is radiating rapture like the _Kadamba_ flower its fragrant spikes. The time for the arrival of our tutor is over by just a few minutes. Yet there is no certainty...! We are sitting on the verandah overlooking the lane[12] watching and watching with a piteous gaze. All of a sudden, with a great big thump, our hearts seem to fall in a swoon. The familiar black umbrella has turned the corner undefeated even by such weather! Could it not be somebody else? It certainly could not! In the wide wide world there might be found another, his equal in pertinacity, but never in this little lane of ours. Looking back on his period as a whole, I cannot say that Aghore Babu was a hard man. He did not rule us with a rod. Even his rebukes did not amount to scoldings. But whatever may have been his personal merits, his time was _evening_, and his subject _English_! I am certain that even an angel would have seemed a veritable messenger of Yama[13] to any Bengali boy if he came to him at the end of his miserable day at school, and lighted a dismally dim lamp to teach him English. How well do I remember the day our tutor tried to impress on us the attractiveness of the English language. With this object he recited to us with great unction some lines--prose or poetry we could not tell--out of an English book. It had a most unlooked for effect on us. We laughed so immoderately that he had to dismiss us for that evening. He must have realised that he held no easy brief--that to get us to pronounce in his favour would entail a contest ranging over years. Aghore Babu would sometimes try to bring the zephyr of outside knowledge to play on the arid routine of our schoolroom. One day he brought a paper parcel out of his pocket and said: "I'll show you to-day a wonderful piece of work of the Creator." With this he untied the paper wrapping and, producing a portion of the vocal organs of a human being, proceeded to expound the marvels of its mechanism. I can still call to mind the shock this gave me at the time. I had always thought the whole man spoke--had never even imagined that the act of speech could be viewed in this detached way. However wonderful the mechanism of a part may be, it is certainly less so than the whole man. Not that I put it to myself in so many words, but that was the cause of my dismay. It was perhaps because the tutor had lost sight of this truth that the pupil could not respond to the enthusiasm with which he was discoursing on the subject. Another day he took us to the dissecting room of the Medical College. The body of an old woman was stretched on the table. This did not disturb me so much. But an amputated leg which was lying on the floor upset me altogether. To view man in this fragmentary way seemed to me so horrid, so absurd that I could not get rid of the impression of that dark, unmeaning leg for many a day. After getting through Peary Sarkar's first and second English readers we entered upon McCulloch's Course of Reading. Our bodies were weary at the end of the day, our minds yearning for the inner apartments, the book was black and thick with difficult words, and the subject-matter could hardly have been more inviting, for in those days, Mother Saraswati's[14] maternal tenderness was not in evidence. Children's books were not full of pictures then as they are now. Moreover, at the gateway of every reading lesson stood sentinel an array of words, with separated syllables, and forbidding accent marks like fixed bayonets, barring the way to the infant mind. I had repeatedly attacked their serried ranks in vain. Our tutor would try to shame us by recounting the exploits of some other brilliant pupil of his. We felt duly ashamed, and also not well-disposed towards that other pupil, but this did not help to dispel the darkness which clung to that black volume. Providence, out of pity for mankind, has instilled a soporific charm into all tedious things. No sooner did our English lessons begin than our heads began to nod. Sprinkling water into our eyes, or taking a run round the verandahs, were palliatives which had no lasting effect. If by any chance my eldest brother happened to be passing that way, and caught a glimpse of our sleep-tormented condition, we would get let off for the rest of the evening. It did not take our drowsiness another moment to get completely cured. (8) _My First Outing_ Once, when the dengue fever was raging in Calcutta, some portion of our extensive family had to take shelter in Chhatu Babu's river-side villa. We were among them. This was my first outing. The bank of the Ganges welcomed me into its lap like a friend of a former birth. There, in front of the servants' quarters, was a grove of guava trees; and, sitting in the verandah under the shade of these, gazing at the flowing current through the gaps between their trunks, my days would pass. Every morning, as I awoke, I somehow felt the day coming to me like a new gilt-edged letter, with some unheard-of news awaiting me on the opening of the envelope. And, lest I should lose any fragment of it, I would hurry through my toilet to my chair outside. Every day there was the ebb and flow of the tide on the Ganges; the various gait of so many different boats; the shifting of the shadows of the trees from west to east; and, over the fringe of shade-patches of the woods on the opposite bank, the gush of golden life-blood through the pierced breast of the evening sky. Some days would be cloudy from early morning; the opposite woods black; black shadows moving over the river. Then with a rush would come the vociferous rain, blotting out the horizon; the dim line of the other bank taking its leave in tears: the river swelling with suppressed heavings; and the moist wind making free with the foliage of the trees overhead. I felt that out of the bowels of wall, beam and rafter, I had a new birth into the outside. In making fresh acquaintance with things, the dingy covering of petty habits seemed to drop off the world. I am sure that the sugar-cane molasses, which I had with cold _luchis_ for my breakfast, could not have tasted different from the ambrosia which _Indra_[15] quaffs in his heaven; for, the immortality is not in the nectar but in the taster, and thus is missed by those who seek it. Behind the house was a walled-in enclosure with a tank and a flight of steps leading into the water from a bathing platform. On one side of the platform was an immense Jambolan tree, and all round were various fruit trees, growing in thick clusters, in the shade of which the tank nestled in its privacy. The veiled beauty of this retired little inner garden had a wonderful charm for me, so different from the broad expanse of the river-bank in front. It was like the bride of the house, in the seclusion of her midday siesta, resting on a many-coloured quilt of her own embroidering, murmuring low the secrets of her heart. Many a midday hour did I spend alone under that Jambolan tree dreaming of the fearsome kingdom of the Yakshas[16] within the depths of the tank. I had a great curiosity to see a Bengal village. Its clusters of cottages, its thatched pavilions, its lanes and bathing places, its games and gatherings, its fields and markets, its life as a whole as I saw it in imagination, greatly attracted me. Just such a village was right on the other side of our garden wall, but it was forbidden to us. We had come out, but not into freedom. We had been in a cage, and were now on a perch, but the chain was still there. One morning two of our elders went out for a stroll into the village. I could not restrain my eagerness any longer, and, slipping out unperceived, followed them for some distance. As I went along the deeply shaded lane, with its close thorny _seora_ hedges, by the side of the tank covered with green water weeds, I rapturously took in picture after picture. I still remember the man with bare body, engaged in a belated toilet on the edge of the tank, cleaning his teeth with the chewed end of a twig. Suddenly my elders became aware of my presence behind them. "Get away, get away, go back at once!" they scolded. They were scandalised. My feet were bare, I had no scarf or upper-robe over my tunic, I was not dressed fit to come out; as if it was my fault! I never owned any socks or superfluous apparel, so not only went back disappointed for that morning, but had no chance of repairing my shortcomings and being allowed to come out any other day. However though the Beyond was thus shut out from behind, in front the Ganges freed me from all bondage, and my mind, whenever it listed, could embark on the boats gaily sailing along, and hie away to lands not named in any geography. This was forty years ago. Since then I have never set foot again in that _champak_-shaded villa garden. The same old house and the same old trees must still be there, but I know it cannot any longer be the same--for where am I now to get that fresh feeling of wonder which made it what it was? We returned to our Jorasanko house in town. And my days were as so many mouthfuls offered up to be gulped down into the yawning interior of the Normal School. (9) _Practising Poetry_ That blue manuscript book was soon filled, like the hive of some insect, with a network of variously slanting lines and the thick and thin strokes of letters. The eager pressure of the boy writer soon crumpled its leaves; and then the edges got frayed, and twisted up claw-like as if to hold fast the writing within, till at last, down what river _Baitarani_[17] I know not, its pages were swept away by merciful oblivion. Anyhow they escaped the pangs of a passage through the printing press and need fear no birth into this vale of woe. I cannot claim to have been a passive witness of the spread of my reputation as a poet. Though Satkari Babu was not a teacher of our class he was very fond of me. He had written a book on Natural History--wherein I hope no unkind humorist will try to find a reason for such fondness. He sent for me one day and asked: "So you write poetry, do you?" I did not conceal the fact. From that time on, he would now and then ask me to complete a quatrain by adding a couplet of my own to one given by him. Gobinda Babu of our school was very dark, and short and fat. He was the Superintendent. He sat, in his black suit, with his account books, in an office room on the second storey. We were all afraid of him, for he was the rod-bearing judge. On one occasion I had escaped from the attentions of some bullies into his room. The persecutors were five or six older boys. I had no one to bear witness on my side--except my tears. I won my case and since then Govinda Babu had a soft corner in his heart for me. One day he called me into his room during the recess. I went in fear and trembling but had no sooner stepped before him than he also accosted me with the question: "So you write poetry?" I did not hesitate to make the admission. He commissioned me to write a poem on some high moral precept which I do not remember. The amount of condescension and affability which such a request coming from him implied can only be appreciated by those who were his pupils. When I finished and handed him the verses next day, he took me to the highest class and made me stand before the boys. "Recite," he commanded. And I recited loudly. The only praiseworthy thing about this moral poem was that it soon got lost. Its moral effect on that class was far from encouraging--the sentiment it aroused being not one of regard for its author. Most of them were certain that it was not my own composition. One said he could produce the book from which it was copied, but was not pressed to do so; the process of proving is such a nuisance to those who want to believe. Finally the number of seekers after poetic fame began to increase alarmingly; moreover their methods were not those which are recognised as roads to moral improvement. Nowadays there is nothing strange in a youngster writing verses. The glamour of poesy is gone. I remember how the few women who wrote poetry in those days were looked upon as miraculous creations of the Deity. If one hears to-day that some young lady does not write poems one feels sceptical. Poetry now sprouts long before the highest Bengali class is reached; so that no modern Gobinda Babu would have taken any notice of the poetic exploit I have recounted. PART III (10) _Srikantha Babu_ At this time I was blessed with a hearer the like of whom I shall never get again. He had so inordinate a capacity for being pleased as to have utterly disqualified him for the post of critic in any of our monthly Reviews. The old man was like a perfectly ripe Alfonso mango--not a trace of acid or coarse fibre in his composition. His tender clean-shaven face was rounded off by an all-pervading baldness; there was not the vestige of a tooth to worry the inside of his mouth; and his big smiling eyes gleamed with a constant delight. When he spoke in his soft deep voice, his mouth and eyes and hands all spoke likewise. He was of the old school of Persian culture and knew not a word of English. His inseparable companions were a hubble-bubble at his left, and a _sitar_ on his lap; and from his throat flowed song unceasing. Srikantha Babu had no need to wait for a formal introduction, for none could resist the natural claims of his genial heart. Once he took us to be photographed with him in some big English photographic studio. There he so captivated the proprietor with his artless story, in a jumble of Hindusthani and Bengali, of how he was a poor man, but badly wanted this particular photograph taken, that the man smilingly allowed him a reduced rate. Nor did such bargaining sound at all incongruous in that unbending English establishment, so naïve was Srikantha Babu, so unconscious of any possibility of giving offence. He would sometimes take me along to a European missionary's house. There, also, with his playing and singing, his caresses of the missionary's little girl and his unstinted admiration of the little booted feet of the missionary's lady, he would enliven the gathering as no one else could have done. Another behaving so absurdly would have been deemed a bore, but his transparent simplicity pleased all and drew them to join in his gaiety. Srikantha Babu was impervious to rudeness or insolence. There was at the time a singer of some repute retained in our establishment. When the latter was the worse for liquor he would rail at poor Srikantha Babu's singing in no very choice terms. This he would bear unflinchingly, with no attempt at retort. When at last the man's incorrigible rudeness brought about his dismissal Srikantha Babu anxiously interceded for him. "It was not he, it was the liquor," he insisted. [Illustration: The Ganges] He could not bear to see anyone sorrowing or even to hear of it. So when any one of the boys wanted to torment him they had only to read out passages from Vidyasagar's "Banishment of Sita"; whereat he would be greatly exercised, thrusting out his hands in protest and begging and praying of them to stop. This old man was the friend alike of my father, my elder brothers and ourselves. He was of an age with each and every one of us. As any piece of stone is good enough for the freshet to dance round and gambol with, so the least provocation would suffice to make him beside himself with joy. Once I had composed a hymn, and had not failed to make due allusion to the trials and tribulations of this world. Srikantha Babu was convinced that my father would be overjoyed at such a perfect gem of a devotional poem. With unbounded enthusiasm he volunteered personally to acquaint him with it. By a piece of good fortune I was not there at the time but heard afterwards that my father was hugely amused that the sorrows of the world should have so early moved his youngest son to the point of versification. I am sure Gobinda Babu, the superintendent, would have shown more respect for my effort on so serious a subject. In singing I was Srikantha Babu's favorite pupil. He had taught me a song: "No more of Vraja[18] for me," and would drag me about to everyone's rooms and get me to sing it to them. I would sing and he would thrum an accompaniment on his _sitar_ and when we came to the chorus he would join in, and repeat it over and over again, smiling and nodding his head at each one in turn, as if nudging them on to a more enthusiastic appreciation. He was a devoted admirer of my father. A hymn had been set to one of his tunes, "For He is the heart of our hearts." When he sang this to my father Srikantha Babu got so excited that he jumped up from his seat and in alternation violently twanged his _sitar_ as he sang: "For He is the heart of our hearts" and then waved his hand about my father's face as he changed the words to "For _you_ are the heart of our hearts." When the old man paid his last visit to my father, the latter, himself bed-ridden, was at a river-side villa in Chinsurah. Srikantha Babu, stricken with his last illness, could not rise unaided and had to push open his eyelids to see. In this state, tended by his daughter, he journeyed to Chinsurah from his place in Birbhoom. With a great effort he managed to take the dust of my father's feet and then return to his lodgings in Chinsurah where he breathed his last a few days later. I heard afterwards from his daughter that he went to his eternal youth with the song "How sweet is thy mercy, Lord!" on his lips. (11) _Our Bengali Course Ends_ At School we were then in the class below the highest one. At home we had advanced in Bengali much further than the subjects taught in the class. We had been through Akshay Datta's book on Popular Physics, and had also finished the epic of Meghnadvadha. We read our physics without any reference to physical objects and so our knowledge of the subject was correspondingly bookish. In fact the time spent on it had been thoroughly wasted; much more so to my mind than if it had been wasted in doing nothing. The Meghnadvadha, also, was not a thing of joy to us. The tastiest tit-bit may not be relished when thrown at one's head. To employ an epic to teach language is like using a sword to shave with--sad for the sword, bad for the chin. A poem should be taught from the emotional standpoint; inveigling it into service as grammar-cum-dictionary is not calculated to propitiate the divine Saraswati. All of a sudden our Normal School career came to an end; and thereby hangs a tale. One of our school teachers wanted to borrow a copy of my grandfather's life by Mitra from our library. My nephew and classmate Satya managed to screw up courage enough to volunteer to mention this to my father. He came to the conclusion that everyday Bengali would hardly do to approach him with. So he concocted and delivered himself of an archaic phrase with such meticulous precision that my father must have felt our study of the Bengali language had gone a bit too far and was in danger of over-reaching itself. So the next morning, when according to our wont our table had been placed in the south verandah, the blackboard hung up on a nail in the wall, and everything was in readiness for our lessons with Nilkamal Babu, we three were sent for by my father to his room upstairs. "You need not do any more Bengali lessons," he said. Our minds danced for very joy. Nilkamal Babu was waiting downstairs, our books were lying open on the table, and the idea of getting us once more to go through the Meghnadvadha doubtless still occupied his mind. But as on one's death-bed the various routine of daily life seems unreal, so, in a moment, did everything, from the Pandit down to the nail on which the blackboard was hung, become for us as empty as a mirage. Our sole trouble was how to give this news to Nilkamal Babu with due decorum. We did it at last with considerable restraint, while the geometrical figures on the blackboard stared at us in wonder and the blank verse of the Meghnadvadha looked blankly on. Our Pandit's parting words were: "At the call of duty I may have been sometimes harsh with you--do not keep that in remembrance. You will learn the value of what I have taught you later on." Indeed I have learnt that value. It was because we were taught in our own language that our minds quickened. Learning should as far as possible follow the process of eating. When the taste begins from the first bite, the stomach is awakened to its function before it is loaded, so that its digestive juices get full play. Nothing like this happens, however, when the Bengali boy is taught in English. The first bite bids fair to wrench loose both rows of teeth--like a veritable earthquake in the mouth! And by the time he discovers that the morsel is not of the genus stone, but a digestible bonbon, half his allotted span of life is over. While one is choking and spluttering over the spelling and grammar, the inside remains starved, and when at length the taste is felt, the appetite has vanished. If the whole mind does not work from the beginning its full powers remain undeveloped to the end. While all around was the cry for English teaching, my third brother was brave enough to keep us to our Bengali course. To him in heaven my grateful reverence. (12) _The Professor_ On leaving the Normal School we were sent to the Bengal Academy, a Eurasian institution. We felt we had gained an access of dignity, that we had grown up--at least into the first storey of freedom. In point of fact the only progress we made in that academy was towards freedom. What we were taught there we never understood, nor did we make any attempt to learn, nor did it seem to make any difference to anybody that we did not. The boys here were annoying but not disgusting--which was a great comfort. They wrote ASS on their palms and slapped it on to our backs with a cordial "hello!" They gave us a dig in the ribs from behind and looked innocently another way. They dabbed banana pulp on our heads and made away unperceived. Nevertheless it was like coming out of slime on to rock--we were worried but not soiled. This school had one great advantage for me. No one there cherished the forlorn hope that boys of our sort could make any advance in learning. It was a petty institution with an insufficient income, so that we had one supreme merit in the eyes of its authorities--we paid our fees regularly. This prevented even the Latin Grammar from proving a stumbling block, and the most egregious of blunders left our backs unscathed. Pity for us had nothing to do with it--the school authorities had spoken to the teachers! Still, harmless though it was, after all it was a school. The rooms were cruelly dismal with their walls on guard like policemen. The house was more like a pigeon-holed box than a human habitation. No decoration, no pictures, not a touch of colour, not an attempt to attract the boyish heart. The fact that likes and dislikes form a large part of the child mind was completely ignored. Naturally our whole being was depressed as we stepped through its doorway into the narrow quadrangle--and playing truant became chronic with us. In this we found an accomplice. My elder brothers had a Persian tutor. We used to call him Munshi. He was of middle age and all skin and bone, as though dark parchment had been stretched over his skeleton without any filling of flesh and blood. He probably knew Persian well, his knowledge of English was quite fair, but in neither of these directions lay his ambition. His belief was that his proficiency in singlestick was matched only by his skill in song. He would stand in the sun in the middle of our courtyard and go through a wonderful series of antics with a staff--his own shadow being his antagonist. I need hardly add that his shadow never got the better of him and when at the end he gave a great big shout and whacked it on the head with a victorious smile, it lay submissively prone at his feet. His singing, nasal and out of tune, sounded like a gruesome mixture of groaning and moaning coming from some ghost-world. Our singing master Vishnu would sometimes chaff him: "Look here, Munshi, you'll be taking the bread out of our mouths at this rate!" To which his only reply would be a disdainful smile. This shows that the Munshi was amenable to soft words; and in fact, whenever we wanted we could persuade him to write to the school authorities to excuse us from attendance. The school authorities took no pains to scrutinise these letters, they knew it would be all the same whether we attended or not, so far as educational results were concerned. I have now a school of my own in which the boys are up to all kinds of mischief, for boys will be mischievous--and schoolmasters unforgiving. When any of us are beset with undue uneasiness at their conduct and are stirred into a resolution to deal out condign punishment, the misdeeds of my own schooldays confront me in a row and smile at me. I now clearly see that the mistake is to judge boys by the standard of grown-ups, to forget that a child is quick and mobile like a running stream; and that, in the case of such, any touch of imperfection need cause no great alarm, for the speed of the flow is itself the best corrective. When stagnation sets in then comes the danger. So it is for the teacher, more than the pupil, to beware of wrongdoing. There was a separate refreshment room for Bengali boys for meeting their caste requirements. This was where we struck up a friendship with some of the others. They were all older than we. One of these will bear to be dilated upon. His specialty was the art of Magic, so much so that he had actually written and published a little booklet on it, the front page of which bore his name with the title of Professor. I had never before come across a schoolboy whose name had appeared in print, so that my reverence for him--as a professor of magic I mean--was profound. How could I have brought myself to believe that anything questionable could possibly find place in the straight and upright ranks of printed letters? To be able to record one's own words in indelible ink--was that a slight thing? To stand unscreened yet unabashed, self-confessed before the world,--how could one withhold belief in the face of such supreme self-confidence? I remember how once I got the types for the letters of my name from some printing press, and what a memorable thing it seemed when I inked and pressed them on paper and found my name imprinted. We used to give a lift in our carriage to this schoolfellow and author-friend of ours. This led to visiting terms. He was also great at theatricals. With his help we erected a stage on our wrestling ground with painted paper stretched over a split bamboo framework. But a peremptory negative from upstairs prevented any play from being acted thereon. A comedy of errors was however played later on without any stage at all. The author of this has already been introduced to the reader in these pages. He was none other than my nephew Satya. Those who behold his present calm and sedate demeanour would be shocked to learn of the tricks of which he was the originator. [Illustration: Satya] The event of which I am writing happened sometime afterwards when I was twelve or thirteen. Our magician friend had told of so many strange properties of things that I was consumed with curiosity to see them for myself. But the materials of which he spoke were invariably so rare or distant that one could hardly hope to get hold of them without the help of Sindbad the sailor. Once, as it happened, the Professor forgot himself so far as to mention accessible things. Who could ever believe that a seed dipped and dried twenty-one times in the juice of a species of cactus would sprout and flower and fruit all in the space of an hour? I was determined to test this, not daring withal to doubt the assurance of a Professor whose name appeared in a printed book. I got our gardener to furnish me with a plentiful supply of the milky juice, and betook myself, on a Sunday afternoon, to our mystic nook in a corner of the roof terrace, to experiment with the stone of a mango. I was wrapt in my task of dipping and drying--but the grown-up reader will probably not wait to ask me the result. In the meantime, I little knew that Satya, in another corner, had, in the space of an hour, caused to root and sprout a mystical plant of his own creation. This was to bear curious fruit later on. After the day of this experiment the Professor rather avoided me, as I gradually came to perceive. He would not sit on the same side in the carriage, and altogether seemed to fight shy of me. One day, all of a sudden, he proposed that each one in turn should jump off the bench in our schoolroom. He wanted to observe the differences in style, he said. Such scientific curiosity did not appear queer in a professor of magic. Everyone jumped, so did I. He shook his head with a subdued "h'm." No amount of persuasion could draw anything further out of him. Another day he informed us that some good friends of his wanted to make our acquaintance and asked us to accompany him to their house. Our guardians had no objection, so off we went. The crowd in the room seemed full of curiosity. They expressed their eagerness to hear me sing. I sang a song or two. Mere child as I was I could hardly have bellowed like a bull. "Quite a sweet voice," they all agreed. When refreshments were put before us they sat round and watched us eat. I was bashful by nature and not used to strange company; moreover the habit I acquired during the attendance of our servant Iswar left me a poor eater for good. They all seemed impressed with the delicacy of my appetite. In the fifth act I got some curiously warm letters from our Professor which revealed the whole situation. And here let the curtain fall. I subsequently learnt from Satya that while I had been practising magic on the mango seed, he had successfully convinced the Professor that I was dressed as a boy by our guardians merely for getting me a better schooling, but that really this was only a disguise. To those who are curious in regard to imaginary science I should explain that a girl is supposed to jump with her left foot forward, and this is what I had done on the occasion of the Professor's trial. I little realised at the time what a tremendously false step mine had been! (13) _My Father_ Shortly after my birth my father took to constantly travelling about. So it is no exaggeration to say that in my early childhood I hardly knew him. He would now and then come back home all of a sudden, and with him came foreign servants with whom I felt extremely eager to make friends. Once there came in this way a young Panjabi servant named Lenu. The cordiality of the reception he got from us would have been worthy of Ranjit Singh himself. Not only was he a foreigner, but a Panjabi to boot,--what wonder he stole our hearts away? We had the same reverence for the whole Panjabi nation as for Bhima and Arjuna of the Mahabharata. They were warriors; and if they had sometimes fought and lost, that was clearly the enemy's fault. It was glorious to have Lenu, of the Panjab, in our very home. My sister-in-law had a model war-ship under a glass case, which, when wound up, rocked on blue-painted silken waves to the tinkling of a musical box. I would beg hard for the loan of this to display its marvels to the admiring Lenu. Caged in the house as we were, anything savouring of foreign parts had a peculiar charm for me. This was one of the reasons why I made so much of Lenu. This was also the reason why Gabriel, the Jew, with his embroidered gaberdine, who came to sell _attars_ and scented oils, stirred me so; and the huge Kabulis, with their dusty, baggy trousers and knapsacks and bundles, wrought on my young mind a fearful fascination. Anyhow, when my father came, we would be content with wandering round about his entourage and in the company of his servants. We did not reach his immediate presence. Once while my father was away in the Himalayas, that old bogey of the British Government, the Russian invasion, came to be a subject of agitated conversation among the people. Some well-meaning lady friend had enlarged on the impending danger to my mother with all the circumstance of a prolific imagination. How could a body tell from which of the Tibetan passes the Russian host might suddenly flash forth like a baleful comet? My mother was seriously alarmed. Possibly the other members of the family did not share her misgivings; so, despairing of grown-up sympathy, she sought my boyish support. "Won't you write to your father about the Russians?" she asked. That letter, carrying the tidings of my mother's anxieties, was my first one to my father. I did not know how to begin or end a letter, or anything at all about it. I went to Mahananda, the estate munshi.[19] The resulting style of address was doubtless correct enough, but the sentiments could not have escaped the musty flavour inseparable from literature emanating from an estate office. I got a reply to my letter. My father asked me not to be afraid; if the Russians came he would drive them away himself. This confident assurance did not seem to have the effect of relieving my mother's fears, but it served to free me from all timidity as regards my father. After that I wanted to write to him every day and pestered Mahananda accordingly. Unable to withstand my importunity he would make out drafts for me to copy. But I did not know that there was the postage to be paid for. I had an idea that letters placed in Mahananda's hands got to their destination without any need for further worry. It is hardly necessary to mention that, Mahananda being considerably older than myself, these letters never reached the Himalayan hill-tops. When, after his long absences, my father came home even for a few days, the whole house seemed filled with the weight of his presence. We would see our elders at certain hours, formally robed in their _chogas_, passing to his rooms with restrained gait and sobered mien, casting away any _pan_[20] they might have been chewing. Everyone seemed on the alert. To make sure of nothing going wrong, my mother would superintend the cooking herself. The old mace-bearer, Kinu, with his white livery and crested turban, on guard at my father's door, would warn us not to be boisterous in the verandah in front of his rooms during his midday siesta. We had to walk past quietly, talking in whispers, and dared not even take a peep inside. On one occasion my father came home to invest the three of us with the sacred thread. With the help of Pandit Vedantavagish he had collected the old Vedic rites for the purpose. For days together we were taught to chant in correct accents the selections from the Upanishads, arranged by my father under the name of "Brahma Dharma," seated in the prayer hall with Becharam Babu. Finally, with shaven heads and gold rings in our ears, we three budding Brahmins went into a three-days' retreat in a portion of the third storey. It was great fun. The earrings gave us a good handle to pull each other's ears with. We found a little drum lying in one of the rooms; taking this we would stand out in the verandah, and, when we caught sight of any servant passing alone in the storey below, we would rap a tattoo on it. This would make the man look up, only to beat a hasty retreat the next moment with averted eyes.[21] In short we cannot claim that these days of our retirement were passed in ascetic meditation. I am however persuaded that boys like ourselves could not have been rare in the hermitages of old. And if some ancient document has it that the ten or twelve-year old Saradwata or Sarngarava[22] is spending the whole of the days of his boyhood offering oblations and chanting _mantras_, we are not compelled to put unquestioning faith in the statement; because the book of Boy Nature is even older and also more authentic. After we had attained full brahminhood I became very keen on repeating the _gayatri_.[23] I would meditate on it with great concentration. It is hardly a text the full meaning of which I could have grasped at that age. I well remember what efforts I made to extend the range of my consciousness with the help of the initial invocation of "Earth, firmament and heaven." How I felt or thought it is difficult to express clearly, but this much is certain that to be clear about the meaning of words is not the most important function of the human understanding. The main object of teaching is not to explain meanings, but to knock at the door of the mind. If any boy is asked to give an account of what is awakened in him at such knocking, he will probably say something very silly. For what happens within is much bigger than what he can express in words. Those who pin their faith on University examinations as a test of all educational results take no account of this fact. I can recollect many things which I did not understand, but which stirred me deeply. Once, on the roof terrace of our river-side villa, my eldest brother, at the sudden gathering of clouds, repeated aloud some stanzas from Kalidas's "Cloud Messenger." I could not, nor had I the need to, understand a word of the Sanskrit. His ecstatic declamation of the sonorous rhythm was enough for me. Then, again, before I could properly understand English, a profusely illustrated edition of "The Old Curiosity Shop" fell into my hands. I went through the whole of it, though at least nine-tenths of the words were unknown to me. Yet, with the vague ideas I conjured up from the rest, I spun out a variously coloured thread on which to string the illustrations. Any university examiner would have given me a great big zero, but the reading of the book had not proved for me quite so empty as all that. Another time I had accompanied my father on a trip on the Ganges in his houseboat. Among the books he had with him was an old Fort William edition of Jayadeva's _Gita Govinda_. It was in the Bengali character. The verses were not printed in separate lines, but ran on like prose. I did not then know anything of Sanskrit, yet because of my knowledge of Bengali many of the words were familiar. I cannot tell how often I read that _Gita Govinda_. I can well remember this line: The night that was passed in the lonely forest cottage. It spread an atmosphere of vague beauty over my mind. That one Sanskrit word, Nibhrita-nikunja-griham, meaning "the lonely forest cottage" was quite enough for me. I had to discover for myself the intricate metre of Jayadeva, because its divisions were lost in the clumsy prose form of the book. And this discovery gave me very great delight. Of course I did not fully comprehend Jayadeva's meaning. It would hardly be correct to aver that I had got it even partly. But the sound of the words and the lilt of the metre filled my mind with pictures of wonderful beauty, which impelled me to copy out the whole of the book for my own use. The same thing happened, when I was a little older, with a verse from Kalidas's "Birth of the War God." The verse moved me greatly, though the only words of which I gathered the sense, were "the breeze carrying the spray-mist of the falling waters of the sacred Mandakini and shaking the deodar leaves." These left me pining to taste the beauties of the whole. When, later, a Pandit explained to me that in the next two lines the breeze went on "splitting the feathers of the peacock plume on the head of the eager deer-hunter," the thinness of this last conceit disappointed me. I was much better off when I had relied only upon my imagination to complete the verse. Whoever goes back to his early childhood will agree that his greatest gains were not in proportion to the completeness of his understanding. Our Kathakas[24] I know this truth well. So their narratives always have a good proportion of ear-filling Sanskrit words and abstruse remarks not calculated to be fully understood by their simple hearers, but only to be suggestive. The value of such suggestion is by no means to be despised by those who measure education in terms of material gains and losses. These insist on trying to sum up the account and find out exactly how much of the lesson imparted can be rendered up. But children, and those who are not over-educated, dwell in that primal paradise where men can come to know without fully comprehending each step. And only when that paradise is lost comes the evil day when everything needs must be understood. The road which leads to knowledge, without going through the dreary process of understanding, that is the royal road. If that be barred, though the world's marketing may yet go on as usual, the open sea and the mountain top cease to be possible of access. So, as I was saying, though at that age I could not realise the full meaning of the _Gayatri_, there was something in me which could do without a complete understanding. I am reminded of a day when, as I was seated on the cement floor in a corner of our schoolroom meditating on the text, my eyes overflowed with tears. Why those tears came I knew not; and to a strict cross-questioner I would probably have given some explanation having nothing to do with the _Gayatri_. The fact of the matter is that what is going on in the inner recesses of consciousness is not always known to the dweller on the surface. (14) _A journey with my Father_ My shaven head after the sacred thread ceremony caused me one great anxiety. However partial Eurasian lads may be to things appertaining to the Cow, their reverence for the Brahmin[25] is notoriously lacking. So that, apart from other missiles, our shaven heads were sure to be pelted with jeers. While I was worrying over this possibility I was one day summoned upstairs to my father. How would I like to go with him to the Himalayas, I was asked. Away from the Bengal Academy and off to the Himalayas! Would I like it? O that I could have rent the skies with a shout, that might have given some idea of the How! On the day of our leaving home my father, as was his habit, assembled the whole family in the prayer hall for divine service. After I had taken the dust of the feet of my elders I got into the carriage with my father. This was the first time in my life that I had a full suit of clothes made for me. My father himself had selected the pattern and colour. A gold embroidered velvet cap completed my costume. This I carried in my hand, being assailed with misgivings as to its effect in juxtaposition to my hairless head. As I got into the carriage my father insisted on my wearing it, so I had to put it on. Every time he looked another way I took it off. Every time I caught his eye it had to resume its proper place. My father was very particular in all his arrangements and orderings. He disliked leaving things vague or undetermined and never allowed slovenliness or makeshifts. He had a well-defined code to regulate his relations with others and theirs with him. In this he was different from the generality of his countrymen. With the rest of us a little carelessness this way or that did not signify; so in our dealings with him we had to be anxiously careful. It was not so much the little less or more that he objected to as the failure to be up to the standard. My father had also a way of picturing to himself every detail of what he wanted done. On the occasion of any ceremonial gathering, at which he could not be present, he would think out and assign the place for each thing, the duty for each member of the family, the seat for each guest; nothing would escape him. After it was all over he would ask each one for a separate account and thus gain a complete impression of the whole for himself. So, while I was with him on his travels, though nothing would induce him to put obstacles in the way of my amusing myself as I pleased, he left no loophole in the strict rules of conduct which he prescribed for me in other respects. Our first halt was to be for a few days at Bolpur. Satya had been there a short time before with his parents. No self-respecting nineteenth century infant would have credited the account of his travels which he gave us on his return. But we were different, and had had no opportunity of learning to determine the line between the possible and the impossible. Our Mahabharata and Ramayana gave us no clue to it. Nor had we then any children's illustrated books to guide us in the way a child should go. All the hard and fast laws which govern the world we learnt by knocking up against them. Satya had told us that, unless one was very very expert, getting into a railway carriage was a terribly dangerous affair--the least slip, and it was all up. Then, again, a fellow had to hold on to his seat with all his might, otherwise the jolt at starting was so tremendous there was no telling where one would get thrown off to. So when we got to the railway station I was all a-quiver. So easily did we get into our compartment, however, that I felt sure the worst was yet to come. And when, at length, we made an absurdly smooth start, without any semblance of adventure, I felt woefully disappointed. The train sped on; the broad fields with their blue-green border trees, and the villages nestling in their shade flew past in a stream of pictures which melted away like a flood of mirages. It was evening when we reached Bolpur. As I got into the palanquin I closed my eyes. I wanted to preserve the whole of the wonderful vision to be unfolded before my waking eyes in the morning light. The freshness of the experience would be spoilt, I feared, by incomplete glimpses caught in the vagueness of the dusk. When I woke at dawn my heart was thrilling tremulously as I stepped outside. My predecessor had told me that Bolpur had one feature which was to be found nowhere else in the world. This was the path leading from the main buildings to the servants' quarters which, though not covered over in any way, did not allow a ray of the sun or a drop of rain to touch anybody passing along it. I started to hunt for this wonderful path, but the reader will perhaps not wonder at my failure to find it to this day. Town bred as I was, I had never seen a rice-field, and I had a charming portrait of the cowherd boy, of whom we had read, pictured on the canvas of my imagination. I had heard from Satya that the Bolpur house was surrounded by fields of ripening rice, and that playing in these with cowherd boys was an everyday affair, of which the plucking, cooking and eating of the rice was the crowning feature. I eagerly looked about me. But where, oh, where was the rice-field on all that barren heath? Cowherd boys there might have been somewhere about, yet how to distinguish them from any other boys, that was the question! However it did not take me long to get over what I could not see,--what I did see was quite enough. There was no servant rule here, and the only ring which encircled me was the blue of the horizon which the presiding goddess of these solitudes had drawn round them. Within this I was free to move about as I chose. Though I was yet a mere child my father did not place any restriction on my wanderings. In the hollows of the sandy soil the rainwater had ploughed deep furrows, carving out miniature mountain ranges full of red gravel and pebbles of various shapes through which ran tiny streams, revealing the geography of Lilliput. From this region I would gather in the lap of my tunic many curious pieces of stone and take the collection to my father. He never made light of my labours. On the contrary he waxed enthusiastic. "How wonderful!" he exclaimed. "Wherever did you get all these?" "There are many many more, thousands and thousands!" I burst out. "I could bring as many every day." "That _would_ be nice!" he replied. "Why not decorate my little hill with them?" An attempt had been made to dig a tank in the garden, but the subsoil water proving too low, it had been abandoned, unfinished, with the excavated earth left piled up into a hillock. On the top of this height my father used to sit for his morning prayer, and as he sat the sun would rise at the edge of the undulating expanse which stretched away to the eastern horizon in front of him. This was the hill he asked me to decorate. I was very troubled, on leaving Bolpur, that I could not carry away with me my store of stones. It is still difficult for me to realise that I have no absolute claim to keep up a close relationship with things, merely because I have gathered them together. If my fate had granted me the prayer, which I had pressed with such insistence, and undertaken that I should carry this load of stones about with me for ever, then I should scarcely have had the hardihood to laugh at it to-day. In one of the ravines I came upon a hollow full of spring water which overflowed as a little rivulet, where sported tiny fish battling their way up the current. "I've found such a lovely spring," I told my father. "Couldn't we get our bathing and drinking water from there?" "The very thing," he agreed, sharing my rapture, and gave orders for our water supply to be drawn from that spring. I was never tired of roaming about among those miniature hills and dales in hopes of lighting on something never known before. I was the Livingstone of this undiscovered land which looked as if seen through the wrong end of a telescope. Everything there, the dwarf date palms, the scrubby wild plums and the stunted jambolans, was in keeping with the miniature mountain ranges, the little rivulet and the tiny fish I had discovered. [Illustration: Singing to My Father] Probably in order to teach me to be careful my father placed a little small change in my charge and required me to keep an account of it. He also entrusted me with the duty of winding his valuable gold watch for him. He overlooked the risk of damage in his desire to train me to a sense of responsibility. When we went out together for our morning walk he would ask me to give alms to any beggars we came across. But I never could render him a proper account at the end of it. One day my balance was larger than the account warranted. "I really must make you my cashier," observed my father. "Money seems to have a way of growing in your hands!" That watch of his I wound up with such indefatigable zeal that it had very soon to be sent to the watchmaker's in Calcutta. I am reminded of the time when, later in life, I was appointed to manage the estate and had to lay before my father, owing to his failing eye-sight, a statement of accounts on the second or third of every month. I had first to read out the totals under each head, and if he had any doubts on any point he would ask for the details. If I made any attempt to slur over or keep out of sight any item which I feared he would not like, it was sure to come out. So these first few days of the month were very anxious ones for me. As I have said, my father had the habit of keeping everything clearly before his mind,--whether figures of accounts, or ceremonial arrangements, or additions or alterations to property. He had never seen the new prayer hall built at Bolpur, and yet he was familiar with every detail of it from questioning those who came to see him after a visit to Bolpur. He had an extraordinary memory, and when once he got hold of a fact it never escaped him. My father had marked his favourite verses in his copy of the _Bhagavadgita_. He asked me to copy these out, with their translation, for him. At home, I had been a boy of no account, but here, when these important functions were entrusted to me, I felt the glory of the situation. By this time I was rid of my blue manuscript book and had got hold of a bound volume of one of Lett's diaries. I now saw to it that my poetising should not lack any of the dignity of outward circumstance. It was not only a case of writing poems, but of holding myself forth as a poet before my own imagination. So when I wrote poetry at Bolpur I loved to do it sprawling under a young coconut palm. This seemed to me the true poetic way. Resting thus on the hard unturfed gravel in the burning heat of the day I composed a martial ballad on the "Defeat of King Prithwi." In spite of the superabundance of its martial spirit, it could not escape an early death. That bound volume of Lett's diary has now followed the way of its elder sister, the blue manuscript book, leaving no address behind. We left Bolpur and making short halts on the way at Sahebganj, Dinapore, Allahabad and Cawnpore we stopped at last at Amritsar. An incident on the way remains engraved on my memory. The train had stopped at some big station. The ticket examiner came and punched our tickets. He looked at me curiously as if he had some doubt which he did not care to express. He went off and came back with a companion. Both of them fidgetted about for a time near the door of our compartment and then again retired. At last came the station master himself. He looked at my half-ticket and then asked: "Is not the boy over twelve?" "No," said my father. I was then only eleven, but looked older than my age. "You must pay the full fare for him," said the station master. My father's eyes flashed as, without a word, he took out a currency note from his box and handed it to the station master. When they brought my father his change he flung it disdainfully back at them, while the station master stood abashed at this exposure of the meanness of his implied doubt. The golden temple of Amritsar comes back to me like a dream. Many a morning have I accompanied my father to this _Gurudarbar_ of the Sikhs in the middle of the lake. There the sacred chanting resounds continually. My father, seated amidst the throng of worshippers, would sometimes add his voice to the hymn of praise, and finding a stranger joining in their devotions they would wax enthusiastically cordial, and we would return loaded with the sanctified offerings of sugar crystals and other sweets. One day my father invited one of the chanting choir to our place and got him to sing us some of their sacred songs. The man went away probably more than satisfied with the reward he received. The result was that we had to take stern measures of self-defence,--such an insistent army of singers invaded us. When they found our house impregnable, the musicians began to waylay us in the streets. And as we went out for our walk in the morning, every now and then would appear a _Tambura_,[26] slung over a shoulder, at which we felt like game birds at the sight of the muzzle of the hunter's gun. Indeed, so wary did we become that the twang of the _Tambura_, from a distance, scared us away and utterly failed to bag us. When evening fell, my father would sit out in the verandah facing the garden. I would then be summoned to sing to him. The moon has risen; its beams, passing though the trees, have fallen on the verandah floor; I am singing in the _Behaga_ mode: O Companion in the darkest passage of life.... My father with bowed head and clasped hands is intently listening. I can recall this evening scene even now. I have told of my father's amusement on hearing from Srikantha Babu of my maiden attempt at a devotional poem. I am reminded how, later, I had my recompense. On the occasion of one of our _Magh_ festivals several of the hymns were of my composition. One of them was "The eye sees thee not, who art the pupil of every eye...." My father was then bed-ridden at Chinsurah. He sent for me and my brother Jyoti. He asked my brother to accompany me on the harmonium and got me to sing all my hymns one after the other,--some of them I had to sing twice over. When I had finished he said: "If the king of the country had known the language and could appreciate its literature, he would doubtless have rewarded the poet. Since that is not so, I suppose I must do it." With which he handed me a cheque. My father had brought with him some volumes of the Peter Parley series from which to teach me. He selected the life of Benjamin Franklin to begin with. He thought it would read like a story book and be both entertaining and instructive. But he found out his mistake soon after we began it. Benjamin Franklin was much too business-like a person. The narrowness of his calculated morality disgusted my father. In some cases he would get so impatient at the worldly prudence of Franklin that he could not help using strong words of denunciation. Before this I had nothing to do with Sanskrit beyond getting some rules of grammar by rote. My father started me on the second Sanskrit reader at one bound, leaving me to learn the declensions as we went on. The advance I had made in Bengali[27] stood me in good stead. My father also encouraged me to try Sanskrit composition from the very outset. With the vocabulary acquired from my Sanskrit reader I built up grandiose compound words with a profuse sprinkling of sonorous 'm's and 'n's making altogether a most diabolical medley of the language of the gods. But my father never scoffed at my temerity. Then there were the readings from Proctor's Popular Astronomy which my father explained to me in easy language and which I then rendered into Bengali. Among the books which my father had brought for his own use, my attention would be mostly attracted by a ten or twelve volume edition of Gibbon's Rome. They looked remarkably dry. "Being a boy," I thought, "I am helpless and read many books because I have to. But why should a grown up person, who need not read unless he pleases, bother himself so?" (15) _At the Himalayas_ We stayed about a month in Amritsar, and, towards the middle of April, started for the Dalhousie Hills. The last few days at Amritsar seemed as if they would never pass, the call of the Himalayas was so strong upon me. The terraced hill sides, as we went up in a _jhampan_, were all aflame with the beauty of the flowering spring crops. Every morning we would make a start after our bread and milk, and before sunset take shelter for the night in the next staging bungalow. My eyes had no rest the livelong day, so great was my fear lest anything should escape them. Wherever, at a turn of the road into a gorge, the great forest trees were found clustering closer, and from underneath their shade a little waterfall trickling out, like a little daughter of the hermitage playing at the feet of hoary sages wrapt in meditation, babbling its way over the black moss-covered rocks, there the _jhampan_ bearers would put down their burden, and take a rest. Why, oh why, had we to leave such spots behind, cried my thirsting heart, why could we not stay on there for ever? This is the great advantage of the first vision: the mind is not then aware that there are many more such to come. When this comes to be known to that calculating organ it promptly tries to make a saving in its expenditure of attention. It is only when it believes something to be rare that the mind ceases to be miserly in assigning values. So in the streets of Calcutta I sometimes imagine myself a foreigner, and only then do I discover how much is to be seen, which is lost so long as its full value in attention is not paid. It is the hunger to really see which drives people to travel to strange places. My father left his little cash-box in my charge. He had no reason to imagine that I was the fittest custodian of the considerable sums he kept in it for use on the way. He would certainly have felt safer with it in the hands of Kishori, his attendant. So I can only suppose he wanted to train me to the responsibility. One day as we reached the staging bungalow, I forgot to make it over to him and left it lying on a table. This earned me a reprimand. Every time we got down at the end of a stage, my father had chairs placed for us outside the bungalow and there we sat. As dusk came on the stars blazed out wonderfully through the clear mountain atmosphere, and my father showed me the constellations or treated me to an astronomical discourse. The house we had taken at Bakrota was on the highest hill-top. Though it was nearing May it was still bitterly cold there, so much so that on the shady side of the hill the winter frosts had not yet melted. My father was not at all nervous about allowing me to wander about freely even here. Some way below our house there stretched a spur thickly wooded with Deodars. Into this wilderness I would venture alone with my iron-spiked staff. These lordly forest trees, with their huge shadows, towering there like so many giants--what immense lives had they lived through the centuries! And yet this boy of only the other day was crawling round about their trunks unchallenged. I seemed to feel a presence, the moment I stepped into their shade, as of the solid coolness of some old-world saurian, and the checkered light and shade on the leafy mould seemed like its scales. My room was at one end of the house. Lying on my bed I could see, through the uncurtained windows, the distant snowy peaks shimmering dimly in the starlight. Sometimes, at what hour I could not make out, I, half awakened, would see my father, wrapped in a red shawl, with a lighted lamp in his hand, softly passing by to the glazed verandah where he sat at his devotions. After one more sleep I would find him at my bedside, rousing me with a push, before yet the darkness of night had passed. This was my appointed hour for memorising Sanscrit declensions. What an excruciatingly wintry awakening from the caressing warmth of my blankets! By the time the sun rose, my father, after his prayers, finished with me our morning milk, and then, I standing at his side, he would once more hold communion with God, chanting the Upanishads. Then we would go out for a walk. But how should I keep pace with him? Many an older person could not! So, after a while, I would give it up and scramble back home through some short cut up the mountain side. After my father's return I had an hour of English lessons. After ten o'clock came the bath in icy-cold water; it was no use asking the servants to temper it with even a jugful of hot water without my father's permission. To give me courage my father would tell of the unbearably freezing baths he had himself been through in his younger days. Another penance was the drinking of milk. My father was very fond of milk and could take quantities of it. But whether it was a failure to inherit this capacity, or that the unfavourable environment of which I have told proved the stronger, my appetite for milk was grievously wanting. Unfortunately we used to have our milk together. So I had to throw myself on the mercy of the servants; and to their human kindness (or frailty) I was indebted for my goblet being thenceforth more than half full of foam. After our midday meal lessons began again. But this was more than flesh and blood could stand. My outraged morning sleep _would_ have its revenge and I would be toppling over with uncontrollable drowsiness. Nevertheless, no sooner did my father take pity on my plight and let me off, than my sleepiness was off likewise. Then ho! for the mountains. Staff in hand I would often wander away from one peak to another, but my father did not object. To the end of his life, I have observed, he never stood in the way of our independence. Many a time have I said or done things repugnant alike to his taste and his judgment; with a word he could have stopped me; but he preferred to wait till the prompting to refrain came from within. A passive acceptance by us of the correct and the proper did not satisfy him; he wanted us to love truth with our whole hearts; he knew that mere acquiescence without love is empty. He also knew that truth, if strayed from, can be found again, but a forced or blind acceptance of it from the outside effectually bars the way in. [Illustration: The Himalayas] In my early youth I had conceived a fancy to journey along the Grand Trunk Road, right up to Peshawar, in a bullock cart. No one else supported the scheme, and doubtless there was much to be urged against it as a practical proposition. But when I discoursed on it to my father he was sure it was a splendid idea--travelling by railroad was not worth the name! With which observation he proceeded to recount to me his own adventurous wanderings on foot and horseback. Of any chance of discomfort or peril he had not a word to say. Another time, when I had just been appointed Secretary of the Adi Brahma Samaj, I went over to my father, at his Park Street residence, and informed him that I did not approve of the practice of only Brahmins conducting divine service to the exclusion of other castes. He unhesitatingly gave me permission to correct this if I could. When I got the authority I found I lacked the power. I was able to discover imperfections but could not create perfection! Where were the men? Where was the strength in me to attract the right man? Had I the means to build in the place of what I might break? Till the right man comes any form is better than none--this, I felt, must have been my father's view of the existing order. But he did not for a moment try to discourage me by pointing out the difficulties. As he allowed me to wander about the mountains at my will, so in the quest for truth he left me free to select my path. He was not deterred by the danger of my making mistakes, he was not alarmed at the prospect of my encountering sorrow. He held up a standard, not a disciplinary rod. I would often talk to my father of home. Whenever I got a letter from anyone at home I hastened to show it to him. I verily believe I was thus the means of giving him many a picture he could have got from none else. My father also let me read letters to him from my elder brothers. This was his way of teaching me how I ought to write to him; for he by no means underrated the importance of outward forms and ceremonial. I am reminded of how in one of my second brother's letters he was complaining in somewhat sanscritised phraseology of being worked to death tied by the neck to his post of duty. My father asked me to explain the sentiment. I did it in my way, but he thought a different explanation would fit better. My overweening conceit made me stick to my guns and argue the point with him at length. Another would have shut me up with a snub, but my father patiently heard me out and took pains to justify his view to me. My father would sometimes tell me funny stories. He had many an anecdote of the gilded youth of his time. There were some exquisites for whose delicate skins the embroidered borders of even Dacca muslins were too coarse, so that to wear muslins with the border torn off became, for a time, the tip-top thing to do. I was also highly amused to hear from my father for the first time the story of the milkman who was suspected of watering his milk, and the more men one of his customers detailed to look after his milking the bluer the fluid became, till, at last, when the customer himself interviewed him and asked for an explanation, the milkman avowed that if more superintendents had to be satisfied it would only make the milk fit to breed fish! After I had thus spent a few months with him my father sent me back home with his attendant Kishori. PART IV (16) My Return The chains of the rigorous regime which had bound me snapped for good when I set out from home. On my return I gained an accession of rights. In my case my very nearness had so long kept me out of mind; now that I had been out of sight I came back into view. I got a foretaste of appreciation while still on the return journey. Travelling alone as I was, with an attendant, brimming with health and spirits, and conspicuous with my gold-worked cap, all the English people I came across in the train made much of me. When I arrived it was not merely a home-coming from travel, it was also a return from my exile in the servants' quarters to my proper place in the inner apartments. Whenever the inner household assembled in my mother's room I now occupied a seat of honour. And she who was then the youngest bride of our house lavished on me a wealth of affection and regard. In infancy the loving care of woman is to be had without the asking, and, being as much a necessity as light and air, is as simply accepted without any conscious response; rather does the growing child often display an eagerness to free itself from the encircling web of woman's solicitude. But the unfortunate creature who is deprived of this in its proper season is beggared indeed. This had been my plight. So after being brought up in the servants' quarters when I suddenly came in for a profusion of womanly affection, I could hardly remain unconscious of it. In the days when the inner apartments were as yet far away from me, they were the elysium of my imagination. The zenana, which from an outside view is a place of confinement, for me was the abode of all freedom. Neither school nor Pandit were there; nor, it seemed to me, did anybody have to do what they did not want to. Its secluded leisure had something mysterious about it; one played about, or did as one liked and had not to render an account of one's doings. Specially so with my youngest sister, to whom, though she attended Nilkamal Pandit's class with us, it seemed to make no difference in his behaviour whether she did her lessons well or ill. Then again, while, by ten o'clock, we had to hurry through our breakfast and be ready for school, she, with her queue dangling behind, walked unconcernedly away, withinwards, tantalising us to distraction. And when the new bride, adorned with her necklace of gold, came into our house, the mystery of the inner apartments deepened. She, who came from outside and yet became one of us, who was unknown and yet our own, attracted me strangely--with her I burned to make friends. But if by much contriving I managed to draw near, my youngest sister would hustle me off with: "What d'you boys want here--get away outside." The insult added to the disappointment cut me to the quick. Through the glass doors of their cabinets one could catch glimpses of all manner of curious playthings--creations of porcelain and glass--gorgeous in colouring and ornamentation. We were not deemed worthy even to touch them, much less could we muster up courage to ask for any to play with. Nevertheless these rare and wonderful objects, as they were to us boys, served to tinge with an additional attraction the lure of the inner apartments. Thus had I been kept at arm's length with repeated rebuffs. As the outer world, so, for me, the interior, was unattainable. Wherefore the impressions of it that I did get appeared to me like pictures. After nine in the evening, my lessons with Aghore Babu over, I am retiring within for the night. A murky flickering lantern is hanging in the long venetian-screened corridor leading from the outer to the inner apartments. At its end this passage turns into a flight of four or five steps, to which the light does not reach, and down which I pass into the galleries running round the first inner quadrangle. A shaft of moonlight slants from the eastern sky into the western angle of these verandahs, leaving the rest in darkness. In this patch of light the maids have gathered and are squatting close together, with legs outstretched, rolling cotton waste into lamp-wicks, and chatting in undertones of their village homes. Many such pictures are indelibly printed on my memory. Then after our supper, the washing of our hands and feet on the verandah before stretching ourselves on the ample expanse of our bed; whereupon one of the nurses Tinkari or Sankari comes and sits by our heads and softly croons to us the story of the prince travelling on and on over the lonely moor, and, as it comes to an end, silence falls on the room. With my face to the wall I gaze at the black and white patches, made by the plaster of the walls fallen off here and there, showing faintly in the dim light; and out of these I conjure up many a fantastic image as I drop off to sleep. And sometimes, in the middle of the night, I hear through my half-broken sleep the shouts of old Swarup, the watchman, going his rounds from verandah to verandah. Then came the new order, when I got in profusion from this inner unknown dreamland of my fancies the recognition for which I had all along been pining; when that which naturally should have come day by day was suddenly made good to me with accumulated arrears. I cannot say that my head was not turned. The little traveller was full of the story of his travels, and, with the strain of each repetition, the narrative got looser and looser till it utterly refused to fit into the facts. Like everything else, alas, a story also gets stale and the glory of the teller suffers likewise; that is why he has to add fresh colouring every time to keep up its freshness. After my return from the hills I was the principal speaker at my mother's open air gatherings on the roof terrace in the evenings. The temptation to become famous in the eyes of one's mother is as difficult to resist as such fame is easy to earn. While I was at the Normal School, when I first came across the information in some reader that the Sun was hundreds and thousands of times as big as the Earth, I at once disclosed it to my mother. It served to prove that he who was small to look at might yet have a considerable amount of bigness about him. I used also to recite to her the scraps of poetry used as illustrations in the chapter on prosody or rhetoric of our Bengali grammar. Now I retailed at her evening gatherings the astronomical tit-bits I had gleaned from Proctor. My father's follower Kishori belonged at one time to a band of reciters of Dasarathi's jingling versions of the Epics. While we were together in the hills he often said to me: "Oh, my little brother,[28] if I only had had you in our troupe we could have got up a splendid performance." This would open up to me a tempting picture of wandering as a minstrel boy from place to place, reciting and singing. I learnt from him many of the songs in his repertoire and these were in even greater request than my talks about the photosphere of the Sun or the many moons of Saturn. But the achievement of mine which appealed most to my mother was that while the rest of the inmates of the inner apartments had to be content with Krittivasa's Bengali rendering of the Ramayana, I had been reading with my father the original of Maharshi Valmiki himself, Sanscrit metre and all. "Read me some of that Ramayana, _do_!" she said, overjoyed at this news which I had given her. [Illustration: The Servant-maids in the Verandah] Alas, my reading of Valmiki had been limited to the short extract from his Ramayana given in my Sanskrit reader, and even that I had not fully mastered. Moreover, on looking over it now, I found that my memory had played me false and much of what I thought I knew had become hazy. But I lacked the courage to plead "I have forgotten" to the eager mother awaiting the display of her son's marvellous talents; so that, in the reading I gave, a large divergence occurred between Valmiki's intention and my explanation. That tender-hearted sage, from his seat in heaven, must have forgiven the temerity of the boy seeking the glory of his mother's approbation, but not so Madhusudan,[29] the taker down of Pride. My mother, unable to contain her feelings at my extraordinary exploit, wanted all to share her admiration. "You must read this to Dwijendra," (my eldest brother), she said. "In for it!" thought I, as I put forth all the excuses I could think of, but my mother would have none of them. She sent for my brother Dwijendra, and, as soon as he arrived, greeted him, with: "Just hear Rabi read Valmiki's Ramayan, how splendidly he does it." It had to be done! But Madhusudan relented and let me off with just a taste of his pride-reducing power. My brother must have been called away while busy with some literary work of his own. He showed no anxiety to hear me render the Sanscrit into Bengali, and as soon as I had read out a few verses he simply remarked "Very good" and walked away. After my promotion to the inner apartments I felt it all the more difficult to resume my school life. I resorted to all manner of subterfuges to escape the Bengal Academy. Then they tried putting me at St. Xavier's. But the result was no better. My elder brothers, after a few spasmodic efforts, gave up all hopes of me--they even ceased to scold me. One day my eldest sister said: "We had all hoped Rabi would grow up to be a man, but he has disappointed us the worst." I felt that my value in the social world was distinctly depreciating; nevertheless I could not make up my mind to be tied to the eternal grind of the school mill which, divorced as it was from all life and beauty, seemed such a hideously cruel combination of hospital and gaol. One precious memory of St. Xavier's I still hold fresh and pure--the memory of its teachers. Not that they were all of the same excellence. In particular, in those who taught in our class I could discern no reverential resignation of spirit. They were in nowise above the teaching-machine variety of school masters. As it is, the educational engine is remorselessly powerful; when to it is coupled the stone mill of the outward forms of religion the heart of youth is crushed dry indeed. This power-propelled grindstone type we had at St. Xavier's. Yet, as I say, I possess a memory which elevates my impression of the teachers there to an ideal plane. This is the memory of Father DePeneranda. He had very little to do with us--if I remember right he had only for a while taken the place of one of the masters of our class. He was a Spaniard and seemed to have an impediment in speaking English. It was perhaps for this reason that the boys paid but little heed to what he was saying. It seemed to me that this inattentiveness of his pupils hurt him, but he bore it meekly day after day. I know not why, but my heart went out to him in sympathy. His features were not handsome, but his countenance had for me a strange attraction. Whenever I looked on him his spirit seemed to be in prayer, a deep peace to pervade him within and without. We had half-an-hour for writing our copybooks; that was a time when, pen in hand, I used to become absent-minded and my thoughts wandered hither and thither. One day Father DePeneranda was in charge of this class. He was pacing up and down behind our benches. He must have noticed more than once that my pen was not moving. All of a sudden he stopped behind my seat. Bending over me he gently laid his hand on my shoulder and tenderly inquired: "Are you not well, Tagore?" It was only a simple question, but one I have never been able to forget. I cannot speak for the other boys but I felt in him the presence of a great soul, and even to-day the recollection of it seems to give me a passport into the silent seclusion of the temple of God. There was another old Father whom all the boys loved. This was Father Henry. He taught in the higher classes; so I did not know him well. But one thing about him I remember. He knew Bengali. He once asked Nirada, a boy in his class, the derivation of his name. Poor Nirada[30] had so long been supremely easy in mind about himself--the derivation of his name, in particular, had never troubled him in the least; so that he was utterly unprepared to answer this question. And yet, with so many abstruse and unknown words in the dictionary, to be worsted by one's own name would have been as ridiculous a mishap as getting run over by one's own carriage, so Nirada unblushingly replied: "_Ni_--privative, _rode_--sun-rays; thence Nirode--that which causes an absence of the sun's rays!" (17) _Home Studies_ Gyan Babu, son of Pandit Vedantavagish, was now our tutor at home. When he found he could not secure my attention for the school course, he gave up the attempt as hopeless and went on a different tack. He took me through Kalidas's "Birth of the War-god," translating it to me as we went on. He also read Macbeth to me, first explaining the text in Bengali, and then confining me to the school room till I had rendered the day's reading into Bengali verse. In this way he got me to translate the whole play. I was fortunate enough to lose this translation and so am relieved to that extent of the burden of my _karma_. It was Pandit Ramsarvaswa's duty to see to the progress of our Sanskrit. He likewise gave up the fruitless task of teaching grammar to his unwilling pupil, and read Sakuntala with me instead. One day he took it into his head to show my translation of Macbeth to Pandit Vidyasagar and took me over to his house. Rajkrishna Mukherji had called at the time and was seated with him. My heart went pit-a-pat as I entered the great Pandit's study, packed full of books; nor did his austere visage assist in reviving my courage. Nevertheless, as this was the first time I had had such a distinguished audience, my desire to win renown was strong within me. I returned home, I believe, with some reason for an access of enthusiasm. As for Rajkrishna Babu, he contented himself with admonishing me to be careful to keep the language and metre of the Witches' parts different from that of the human characters. During my boyhood Bengali literature was meagre in body, and I think I must have finished all the readable and unreadable books that there were at the time. Juvenile literature in those days had not evolved a distinct type of its own--but that I am sure did me no harm. The watery stuff into which literary nectar is now diluted for being served up to the young takes full account of their childishness, but none of them as growing human beings. Children's books should be such as can partly be understood by them and partly not. In our childhood we read every available book from one end to the other; and both what we understood, and what we did not, went on working within us. That is how the world itself reacts on the child consciousness. The child makes its own what it understands, while that which is beyond leads it on a step forward. When Dinabandhu Mitra's satires came out I was not of an age for which they were suitable. A kinswoman of ours was reading a copy, but no entreaties of mine could induce her to lend it to me. She used to keep it under lock and key. Its inaccessibility made me want it all the more and I threw out the challenge that read the book I must and would. One afternoon she was playing cards, and her keys, tied to a corner of her _sari_, hung over her shoulder. I had never paid any attention to cards, in fact I could not stand card games. But my behaviour that day would hardly have borne this out, so engrossed was I in their playing. At last, in the excitement of one side being about to make a score, I seized my opportunity and set about untying the knot which held the keys. I was not skilful, and moreover excited and hasty and so got caught. The owner of the _sari_ and of the keys took the fold off her shoulder with a smile, and laid the keys on her lap as she went on with the game. Then I hit on a stratagem. My kinswoman was fond of _pan_,[31] and I hastened to place some before her. This entailed her rising later on to get rid of the chewed _pan_, and, as she did so, her keys fell off her lap and were replaced over her shoulder. This time they got stolen, the culprit got off, and the book got read! Its owner tried to scold me, but the attempt was not a success, we both laughed so. Dr. Rajendralal Mitra used to edit an illustrated monthly miscellany. My third brother had a bound annual volume of it in his bookcase. This I managed to secure and the delight of reading it through, over and over again, still comes back to me. Many a holiday noontide has passed with me stretched on my back on my bed, that square volume on my breast, reading about the Narwhal whale, or the curiosities of justice as administered by the Kazis of old, or the romantic story of Krishna-kumari. Why do we not have such magazines now-a-days? We have philosophical and scientific articles on the one hand, and insipid stories and travels on the other, but no such unpretentious miscellanies which the ordinary person can read in comfort--such as Chambers's or Cassell's or the Strand in England--which supply the general reader with a simple, but satisfying fare and are of the greatest use to the greatest number. I came across another little periodical in my young days called the _Abodhabandhu_ (ignorant man's friend). I found a collection of its monthly numbers in my eldest brother's library and devoured them day after day, seated on the doorsill of his study, facing a bit of terrace to the South. It was in the pages of this magazine that I made my first acquaintance with the poetry of Viharilal Chakravarti. His poems appealed to me the most of all that I read at the time. The artless flute-strains of his lyrics awoke within me the music of fields and forest-glades. Into these same pages I have wept many a tear over a pathetic translation of Paul and Virginie. That wonderful sea, the breeze-stirred cocoanut forests on its shore, and the slopes beyond lively with the gambols of mountain goats,--a delightfully refreshing mirage they conjured up on that terraced roof in Calcutta. And oh! the romantic courting that went on in the forest paths of that secluded island, between the Bengali boy reader and little Virginie with the many-coloured kerchief round her head! Then came Bankim's _Bangadarsan_, taking the Bengali heart by storm. It was bad enough to have to wait till the next monthly number was out, but to be kept waiting further till my elders had done with it was simply intolerable! Now he who will may swallow at a mouthful the whole of _Chandrashekhar_ or _Bishabriksha_ but the process of longing and anticipating, month after month; of spreading over the long intervals the concentrated joy of each short reading, revolving every instalment over and over in the mind while watching and waiting for the next; the combination of satisfaction with unsatisfied craving, of burning curiosity with its appeasement; these long drawn out delights of going through the original serial none will ever taste again. The compilations from the old poets by Sarada Mitter and Akshay Sarkar were also of great interest to me. Our elders were subscribers, but not very regular readers, of these series, so that it was not difficult for me to get at them. Vidyapati's quaint and corrupt Maithili language attracted me all the more because of its unintelligibility. I tried to make out his sense without the help of the compiler's notes, jotting down in my own note book all the more obscure words with their context as many times as they occurred. I also noted grammatical peculiarities according to my lights. (18) _My Home Environment_ One great advantage which I enjoyed in my younger days was the literary and artistic atmosphere which pervaded our house. I remember how, when I was quite a child, I would be leaning against the verandah railings which overlooked the detached building comprising the reception rooms. These rooms would be lighted up every evening. Splendid carriages would draw up under the portico, and visitors would be constantly coming and going. What was happening I could not very well make out, but would keep staring at the rows of lighted casements from my place in the darkness. The intervening space was not great but the gulf between my infant world and these lights was immense. My elder cousin Ganendra had just got a drama written by Pandit Tarkaratna and was having it staged in the house. His enthusiasm for literature and the fine arts knew no bounds. He was the centre of the group who seem to have been almost consciously striving to bring about from every side the renascence which we see to-day. A pronounced nationalism in dress, literature, music, art and the drama had awakened in and around him. He was a keen student of the history of different countries and had begun but could not complete a historical work in Bengali. He had translated and published the Sanskrit drama, Vikramorvasi, and many a well-known hymn is his composition. He may be said to have given us the lead in writing patriotic poems and songs. This was in the days when the Hindu Mela was an annual institution and there his song "Ashamed am I to sing of India's glories" used to be sung. I was still a child when my cousin Ganendra died in the prime of his youth, but for those who have once beheld him it is impossible to forget his handsome, tall and stately figure. He had an irresistible social influence. He could draw men round him and keep them bound to him; while his powerful attraction was there, disruption was out of the question. He was one of those--a type peculiar to our country--who, by their personal magnetism, easily establish themselves in the centre of their family or village. In any other country, where large political, social or commercial groups are being formed, such would as naturally become national leaders. The power of organising a large number of men into a corporate group depends on a special kind of genius. Such genius in our country runs to waste, a waste, as pitiful, it seems to me, as that of pulling down a star from the firmament for use as a lucifer match. I remember still better his younger brother, my cousin Gunendra.[32] He likewise kept the house filled with his personality. His large, gracious heart embraced alike relatives, friends, guests and dependants. Whether in his broad south verandah, or on the lawn by the fountain, or at the tank-edge on the fishing platform, he presided over self-invited gatherings, like hospitality incarnate. His wide appreciation of art and talent kept him constantly radiant with enthusiasm. New ideas of festivity or frolic, theatricals or other entertainments, found in him a ready patron, and with his help would flourish and find fruition. We were too young then to take any part in these doings, but the waves of merriment and life to which they gave rise came and beat at the doors of our curiosity. I remember how a burlesque composed by my eldest brother was once being rehearsed in my cousin's big drawing room. From our place against the verandah railings of our house we could hear, through the open windows opposite, roars of laughter mixed with the strains of a comic song, and would also occasionally catch glimpses of Akshay Mazumdar's extraordinary antics. We could not gather exactly what the song was about, but lived in hopes of being able to find that out sometime. I recall how a trifling circumstance earned for me the special regard of cousin Gunendra. Never had I got a prize at school except once for good conduct. Of the three of us my nephew Satya was the best at his lessons. He once did well at some examination and was awarded a prize. As we came home I jumped off the carriage to give the great news to my cousin who was in the garden. "Satya has got a prize" I shouted as I ran to him. He drew me to his knees with a smile. "And have _you_ not got a prize?" he asked. "No," said I, "not I, it's Satya." My genuine pleasure at Satya's success seemed to touch my cousin particularly. He turned to his friends and remarked on it as a very creditable trait. I well remember how mystified I felt at this, for I had not thought of my feeling in that light. This prize that I got for not getting a prize did not do me good. There is no harm in making gifts to children, but they should not be rewards. It is not healthy for youngsters to be made self-conscious. After the mid-day meal cousin Gunendra would attend the estate offices in our part of the house. The office room of our elders was a sort of club where laughter and conversation were freely mixed with matters of business. My cousin would recline on a couch, and I would seize some opportunity of edging up to him. [Illustration: My Eldest Brother] He usually told me stories from Indian History. I still remember the surprise with which I heard how Clive, after establishing British rule in India, went back home and cut his own throat. On the one hand new history being made, on the other a tragic chapter hidden away in the mysterious darkness of a human heart. How could there be such dismal failure within and such brilliant success outside? This weighed heavily on my mind the whole day. Some days cousin Gunendra would not be allowed to remain in any doubt as to the contents of my pocket. At the least encouragement out would come my manuscript book, unabashed. I need hardly state that my cousin was not a severe critic; in point of fact the opinions he expressed would have done splendidly as advertisements. None the less, when in any of my poetry my childishness became too obtrusive, he could not restrain his hearty "Ha! Ha!" One day it was a poem on "Mother India" and as at the end of one line the only rhyme I could think of meant a cart, I had to drag in that cart in spite of there not being the vestige of a road by which it could reasonably arrive,--the insistent claims of rhyme would not hear of any excuses mere reason had to offer. The storm of laughter with which cousin Gunendra greeted it blew away the cart back over the same impossible path it had come by, and it has not been heard of since. My eldest brother was then busy with his masterpiece "The Dream Journey," his cushion seat placed in the south verandah, a low desk before him. Cousin Gunendra would come and sit there for a time every morning. His immense capacity for enjoyment, like the breezes of spring, helped poetry to sprout. My eldest brother would go on alternately writing and reading out what he had written, his boisterous mirth at his own conceits making the verandah tremble. My brother wrote a great deal more than he finally used in his finished work, so fertile was his poetic inspiration. Like the superabounding mango flowerets which carpet the shade of the mango topes in spring time, the rejected pages of his "Dream Journey" were to be found scattered all over the house. Had anyone preserved them they would have been to-day a basketful of flowers adorning our Bengali literature. Eavesdropping at doors and peeping round corners, we used to get our full share of this feast of poetry, so plentiful was it, with so much to spare. My eldest brother was then at the height of his wonderful powers; and from his pen surged, in untiring wave after wave, a tidal flood of poetic fancy, rhyme and expression, filling and overflowing its banks with an exuberantly joyful pæan of triumph. Did we quite understand "The Dream Journey"? But then did we need absolutely to understand in order to enjoy it? We might not have got at the wealth in the ocean depths--what could we have done with it if we had?--but we revelled in the delights of the waves on the shore; and how gaily, at their buffettings, did our life-blood course through every vein and artery! The more I think of that period the more I realise that we have no longer the thing called a _mujlis_.[33] In our boyhood we beheld the dying rays of that intimate sociability which was characteristic of the last generation. Neighbourly feelings were then so strong that the _mujlis_ was a necessity, and those who could contribute to its amenities were in great request. People now-a-days call on each other on business, or as a matter of social duty, but not to foregather by way of _mujlis_. They have not the time, nor are there the same intimate relations! What goings and comings we used to see, how merry were the rooms and verandahs with the hum of conversation and the snatches of laughter! The faculty our predecessors had of becoming the centre of groups and gatherings, of starting and keeping up animated and amusing gossip, has vanished. Men still come and go, but those same verandahs and rooms seem empty and deserted. In those days everything from furniture to festivity was designed to be enjoyed by the many, so that whatever of pomp or magnificence there might have been did not savour of hauteur. These appendages have since increased in quantity, but they have become unfeeling, and know not the art of making high and low alike feel at home. The bare-bodied, the indigently clad, no longer have the right to use and occupy them, without a permit, on the strength of their smiling faces alone. Those whom we now-a-days seek to imitate in our house-building and furnishing, they have their own society, with its wide hospitality. The mischief with us is that we have lost what we had, but have not the means of building up afresh on the European standard, with the result that our home-life has become joyless. We still meet for business or political purposes, but never for the pleasure of simply meeting one another. We have ceased to contrive opportunities to bring men together simply because we love our fellow-men. I can imagine nothing more ugly than this social miserliness; and, when I look back on those whose ringing laughter, coming straight from their hearts, used to lighten for us the burden of household cares, they seem to have been visitors from some other world. (19) _Literary Companions_ There came to me in my boyhood a friend whose help in my literary progress was invaluable. Akshay Chowdhury was a school-fellow of my fourth brother. He was an M. A. in English Literature for which his love was as great as his proficiency therein. On the other hand he had an equal fondness for our older Bengali authors and Vaishnava Poets. He knew hundreds of Bengali songs of unknown authorship, and on these he would launch, with voice uplifted, regardless of tune, or consequence, or of the express disapproval of his hearers. Nor could anything, within him or without, prevent his loudly beating time to his own music, for which the nearest table or book served his nimble fingers to rap a vigorous tattoo on, to help to enliven the audience. He was also one of those with an inordinate capacity for extracting enjoyment from all and sundry. He was as ready to absorb every bit of goodness in a thing as he was lavish in singing its praises. He had an extraordinary gift as a lightning composer of lyrics and songs of no mean merit, but in which he himself had no pride of authorship. He took no further notice of the heaps of scattered scraps of paper on which his pencil writings had been indited. He was as indifferent to his powers as they were prolific. One of his longer poetic pieces was much appreciated when it appeared in the _Bangadarsan_, and I have heard his songs sung by many who knew nothing at all about their composer. A genuine delight in literature is much rarer than erudition, and it was this enthusiastic enjoyment in Akshay Babu which used to awaken my own literary appreciation. He was as liberal in his friendships as in his literary criticisms. Among strangers he was as a fish out of water, but among friends discrepancies in wisdom or age made no difference to him. With us boys he was a boy. When he took his leave, late in the evening, from the _mujlis_ of our elders, I would buttonhole and drag him to our school room. There, with undiminished geniality he would make himself the life and soul of our little gathering, seated on the top of our study table. On many such occasions I have listened to him going into a rapturous dissertation on some English poem; engaged him in some appreciative discussion, critical inquiry, or hot dispute; or read to him some of my own writings and been rewarded in return with praise unsparing. My fourth brother Jyotirindra was one of the chief helpers in my literary and emotional training. He was an enthusiast himself and loved to evoke enthusiasm in others. He did not allow the difference between our ages to be any bar to my free intellectual and sentimental intercourse with him. This great boon of freedom which he allowed me, none else would have dared to do; many even blamed him for it. His companionship made it possible for me to shake off my shrinking sensitiveness. It was as necessary for my soul after its rigorous repression during my infancy as are the monsoon clouds after a fiery summer. But for such snapping of my shackles I might have become crippled for life. Those in authority are never tired of holding forth the possibility of the abuse of freedom as a reason for withholding it, but without that possibility freedom would not be really free. And the only way of learning how to use properly a thing is through its misuse. For myself, at least, I can truly say that what little mischief resulted from my freedom always led the way to the means of curing mischief. I have never been able to make my own anything which they tried to compel me to swallow by getting hold of me, physically or mentally, by the ears. Nothing but sorrow have I ever gained except when left freely to myself. My brother Jyotirindra unreservedly let me go my own way to self-knowledge, and only since then could my nature prepare to put forth its thorns, it may be, but likewise its flowers. This experience of mine has led me to dread, not so much evil itself, as tyrannical attempts to create goodness. Of punitive police, political or moral, I have a wholesome horror. The state of slavery which is thus brought on is the worst form of cancer to which humanity is subject. My brother at one time would spend days at his piano engrossed in the creation of new tunes. Showers of melody would stream from under his dancing fingers, while Akshay Babu and I, seated on either side, would be busy fitting words to the tunes as they grew into shape to help to hold them in our memories.[34] This is how I served my apprenticeship in the composition of songs. While we were growing to boyhood music was largely cultivated in our family. This had the advantage of making it possible for me to imbibe it, without an effort, into my whole being. It had also the disadvantage of not giving me that technical mastery which the effort of learning step by step alone can give. Of what may be called proficiency in music, therefore, I acquired none. Ever since my return from the Himalayas it was a case of my getting more freedom, more and more. The rule of the servants came to an end; I saw to it with many a device that the bonds of my school life were also loosened; nor to my home tutors did I give much scope. Gyan Babu, after taking me through "The Birth of the War-god" and one or two other books in a desultory fashion, went off to take up a legal career. Then came Braja Babu. The first day he put me on to translate "The Vicar of Wakefield." I found that I did not dislike the book; but when this encouraged him to make more elaborate arrangements for the advancement of my learning I made myself altogether scarce. As I have said, my elders gave me up. Neither I nor they were troubled with any more hopes of my future. So I felt free to devote myself to filling up my manuscript book. And the writings which thus filled it were no better than could have been expected. My mind had nothing in it but hot vapour, and vapour-filled bubbles frothed and eddied round a vortex of lazy fancy, aimless and unmeaning. No forms were evolved, there was only the distraction of movement, a bubbling up, a bursting back into froth. What little of matter there was in it was not mine, but borrowed from other poets. What was my own was the restlessness, the seething tension within me. When motion has been born, while yet the balance of forces has not matured, then is there blind chaos indeed. My sister-in-law[35] was a great lover of literature. She did not read simply to kill time, but the Bengali books which she read filled her whole mind. I was a partner in her literary enterprises. She was a devoted admirer of "The Dream Journey." So was I; the more particularly as, having been brought up in the atmosphere of its creation, its beauties had become intertwined with every fibre of my heart. Fortunately it was entirely beyond my power of imitation, so it never occurred to me to attempt anything like it. "The Dream Journey" may be likened to a superb palace of Allegory, with innumerable halls, chambers, passages, corners and niches full of statuary and pictures, of wonderful design and workmanship; and in the grounds around gardens, bowers, fountains and shady nooks in profusion. Not only do poetic thought and fancy abound, but the richness and variety of language and expression is also marvellous. It is not a small thing, this creative power which can bring into being so magnificent a structure complete in all its artistic detail, and that is perhaps why the idea of attempting an imitation never occurred to me. At this time Viharilal Chakravarti's series of songs called _Sarada Mangal_ were coming out in the _Arya Darsan_. My sister-in-law was greatly taken with the sweetness of these lyrics. Most of them she knew by heart. She used often to invite the poet to our house and had embroidered for him a cushion-seat with her own hands. This gave me the opportunity of making friends with him. He came to have a great affection for me, and I took to dropping in at his house at all times of the day, morning, noon or evening. His heart was as large as his body, and a halo of fancy used to surround him like a poetic astral body which seemed to be his truer image. He was always full of true artistic joy, and whenever I have been to him I have breathed in my share of it. Often have I come upon him in his little room on the third storey, in the heat of noonday, sprawling on the cool polished cement floor, writing his poems. Mere boy though I was, his welcome was always so genuine and hearty that I never felt the least awkwardness in approaching him. Then, wrapt in his inspiration and forgetful of all surroundings, he would read out his poems or sing his songs to me. Not that he had much of the gift of song in his voice; but then he was not altogether tuneless, and one could get a fair idea of the intended melody.[36] When with eyes closed he raised his rich deep voice, its expressiveness made up for what it lacked in execution. I still seem to hear some of his songs as he sang them. I would also sometimes set his words to music and sing them to him. He was a great admirer of Valmiki and Kalidas. I remember how once after reciting a description of the Himalayas from Kalidas with the full strength of his voice, he said: "The succession of long [=a] sounds here is not an accident. The poet has deliberately repeated this sound all the way from _Devatatma_ down to _Nagadhiraja_ as an assistance in realising the glorious expanse of the Himalayas." At the time the height of my ambition was to become a poet like Vihari Babu. I might have even succeeded in working myself up to the belief that I was actually writing like him, but for my sister-in-law, his zealous devotee, who stood in the way. She would keep reminding me of a Sanskrit saying that the unworthy aspirant after poetic fame departs in jeers! Very possibly she knew that if my vanity was once allowed to get the upper hand it would be difficult afterwards to bring it under control. So neither my poetic abilities nor my powers of song readily received any praise from her; rather would she never let slip an opportunity of praising somebody else's singing at my expense; with the result that I gradually became quite convinced of the defects of my voice. Misgivings about my poetic powers also assailed me; but, as this was the only field of activity left in which I had any chance of retaining my self-respect, I could not allow the judgment of another to deprive me of all hope; moreover, so insistent was the spur within me that to stop my poetic adventure was a matter of sheer impossibility. (20) _Publishing_ My writings so far had been confined to the family circle. Then was started the monthly called the _Gyanankur_, Sprouting Knowledge, and, as befitted its name it secured an embryo poet as one of its contributors. It began to publish all my poetic ravings indiscriminately, and to this day I have, in a corner of my mind, the fear that, when the day of judgment comes for me, some enthusiastic literary police-agent will institute a search in the inmost zenana of forgotten literature, regardless of the claims of privacy, and bring these out before the pitiless public gaze. My first prose writing also saw the light in the pages of the _Gyanankur_. It was a critical essay and had a bit of a history. A book of poems had been published entitled _Bhubanmohini Pratibha_.[37] Akshay Babu in the _Sadharani_ and Bhudeb Babu in the _Education Gazette_ hailed this new poet with effusive acclamation. A friend of mine, older than myself, whose friendship dates from then, would come and show me letters he had received signed _Bhubanmohini_. He was one of those whom the book had captivated and used frequently to send reverential offerings of books or cloth[38] to the address of the reputed authoress. Some of these poems were so wanting in restraint both of thought and language that I could not bear the idea of their being written by a woman. The letters that were shown to me made it still less possible for me to believe in the womanliness of the writer. But my doubts did not shake my friend's devotion and he went on with the worship of his idol. Then I launched into a criticism of the work of this writer. I let myself go, and eruditely held forth on the distinctive features of lyrics and other short poems, my great advantage being that printed matter is so unblushing, so impassively unbetraying of the writer's real attainments. My friend turned up in a great passion and hurled at me the threat that a B.A. was writing a reply. A B.A.! I was struck speechless. I felt the same as in my younger days when my nephew Satya had shouted for a policeman. I could see the triumphal pillar of argument, erected upon my nice distinctions, crumbling before my eyes at the merciless assaults of authoritative quotations; and the door effectually barred against my ever showing my face to the reading public again. Alas, my critique, under what evil star wert thou born! I spent day after day in the direst suspense. But, like Satya's policeman, the B.A. failed to appear. (21) _Bhanu Singha_ As I have said I was a keen student of the series of old Vaishnava poems which were being collected and published by Babus Akshay Sarkar and Saroda Mitter. Their language, largely mixed with Maithili, I found difficult to understand; but for that very reason I took all the more pains to get at their meaning. My feeling towards them was that same eager curiosity with which I regarded the ungerminated sprout within the seed, or the undiscovered mystery under the dust covering of the earth. My enthusiasm was kept up with the hope of bringing to light some unknown poetical gems as I went deeper and deeper into the unexplored darkness of this treasure-house. While I was so engaged, the idea got hold of me of enfolding my own writings in just such a wrapping of mystery. I had heard from Akshay Chowdhury the story of the English boy-poet Chatterton. What his poetry was like I had no idea, nor perhaps had Akshay Babu himself. Had we known, the story might have lost its charm. As it happened the melodramatic element in it fired my imagination; for had not so many been deceived by his successful imitation of the classics? And at last the unfortunate youth had died by his own hand. Leaving aside the suicide part I girded up my loins to emulate young Chatterton's exploits. One noon the clouds had gathered thickly. Rejoicing in the grateful shade of the cloudy midday rest-hour, I lay prone on the bed in my inner room and wrote on a slate the imitation _Maithili_ poem _Gahana kusuma kunja majhe_. I was greatly pleased with it and lost no time in reading it out to the first one I came across; of whose understanding a word of it there happened to be not the slightest danger, and who consequently could not but gravely nod and say, "Good, very good indeed!" To my friend mentioned a while ago I said one day: "A tattered old manuscript has been discovered while rummaging in the _Adi Brahma Samaj_ library and from this I have copied some poems by an old Vaishnava Poet named Bhanu Singha;"[39] with which I read some of my imitation poems to him. He was profoundly stirred. "These could not have been written even by _Vidyapati_ or _Chandidas_!" he rapturously exclaimed. "I really must have that MS. to make over to Akshay Babu for publication." Then I showed him my manuscript book and conclusively proved that the poems could not have been written by either _Vidyapati_ or _Chandidas_ because the author happened to be myself. My friend's face fell as he muttered, "Yes, yes, they're not half bad." When these Bhanu Singha poems were coming out in the _Bharati_, Dr. Nishikanta Chatterjee was in Germany. He wrote a thesis on the lyric poetry of our country comparing it with that of Europe. Bhanu Singha was given a place of honour as one of the old poets such as no modern writer could have aspired to. This was the thesis on which Nishikanta Chatterjee got his Ph. D.! Whoever Bhanu Singha might have been, had his writings fallen into the hands of latter-day me, I swear I would not have been deceived. The language might have passed muster; for that which the old poets wrote in was not their mother tongue, but an artificial language varying in the hands of different poets. But there was nothing artificial about their sentiments. Any attempt to test Bhanu Singha's poetry by its ring would have shown up the base metal. It had none of the ravishing melody of our ancient pipes, but only the tinkle of a modern, foreign barrel organ. (22) _Patriotism_ From an outside point of view many a foreign custom would appear to have gained entry into our family, but at its heart flames a national pride which has never flickered. The genuine regard which my father had for his country never forsook him through all the revolutionary vicissitudes of his life, and this in his descendants has taken shape as a strong patriotic feeling. Love of country was, however, by no means a characteristic of the times of which I am writing. Our educated men then kept at arms' length both the language and thought of their native land. Nevertheless my elder brothers had always cultivated Bengali literature. When on one occasion some new connection by marriage wrote my father an English letter it was promptly returned to the writer. The _Hindu Mela_ was an annual fair which had been instituted with the assistance of our house. Babu Nabagopal Mitter was appointed its manager. This was perhaps the first attempt at a reverential realisation of India as our motherland. My second brother's popular national anthem "_Bharater Jaya_," was composed, then. The singing of songs glorifying the motherland, the recitation of poems of the love of country, the exhibition of indigenous arts and crafts and the encouragement of national talent and skill were the features of this _Mela_. On the occasion of Lord Curzon's Delhi durbar I wrote a prose-paper--at the time of Lord Lytton's it was a poem. The British Government of those days feared the Russians it is true, but not the pen of a 14-year old poet. So, though my poem lacked none of the fiery sentiments appropriate to my age, there were no signs of any consternation in the ranks of the authorities from Commander-in-chief down to Commissioner of Police. Nor did any lachrymose letter in the _Times_ predict a speedy downfall of the Empire for this apathy of its local guardians. I recited my poem under a tree at the Hindu Mela and one of my hearers was Nabin Sen, the poet. He reminded me of this after I had grown up. My fourth brother, Jyotirindra, was responsible for a political association of which old Rajnarain Bose was the president. It held its sittings in a tumbledown building in an obscure Calcutta lane. Its proceedings were enshrouded in mystery. This mystery was its only claim to be awe-inspiring, for as a matter of fact there was nothing in our deliberations or doings of which government or people need have been afraid. The rest of our family had no idea where we were spending our afternoons. Our front door would be locked, the meeting room in darkness, the watchword a Vedic _mantra_, our talk in whispers. These alone provided us with enough of a thrill, and we wanted nothing more. Mere child as I was, I also was a member. We surrounded ourselves with such an atmosphere of pure frenzy that we always seemed to be soaring aloft on the wings of our enthusiasm. Of bashfulness, diffidence or fear we had none, our main object being to bask in the heat of our own fervour. Bravery may sometimes have its drawbacks; but it has always maintained a deep hold on the reverence of mankind. In the literature of all countries we find an unflagging endeavour to keep alive this reverence. So in whatever state a particular set of men in a particular locality may be, they cannot escape the constant impact of these stimulating shocks. We had to be content with responding to such shocks, as best we could, by letting loose our imagination, coming together, talking tall and singing fervently. There can be no doubt that closing up all outlets and barring all openings to a faculty so deep-seated in the nature of man, and moreover so prized by him, creates an unnatural condition favourable to degenerate activity. It is not enough to keep open only the avenues to clerical employment in any comprehensive scheme of Imperial Government--if no road be left for adventurous daring the soul of man will pine for deliverance, and secret passages still be sought, of which the pathways are tortuous and the end unthinkable. I firmly believe that if in those days Government had paraded a frightfulness born of suspicion, then the comedy which the youthful members of this association had been at might have turned into grim tragedy. The play, however, is over, not a brick of Fort-William is any the worse, and we are now smiling at its memory. My brother Jyotirindra began to busy himself with a national costume for all India, and submitted various designs to the association. The _Dhoti_ was not deemed business-like; trousers were too foreign; so he hit upon a compromise which considerably detracted from the dhoti while failing to improve the trousers. That is to say, the trousers were decorated with the addition of a false dhoti-fold in front and behind. The fearsome thing that resulted from combining a turban with a _Sola-topee_ our most enthusiastic member would not have had the temerity to call ornamental. No person of ordinary courage could have dared it, but my brother unflinchingly wore the complete suit in broad day-light, passing through the house of an afternoon to the carriage waiting outside, indifferent alike to the stare of relation or friend, door-keeper or coachman. There may be many a brave Indian ready to die for his country, but there are but few, I am sure, who even for the good of the nation would face the public streets in such pan-Indian garb. Every Sunday my brother would get up a _Shikar_ party. Many of those who joined in it, uninvited, we did not even know. There was a carpenter, a smith and others from all ranks of society. Bloodshed was the only thing lacking in this _shikar_, at least I cannot recall any. Its other appendages were so abundant and satisfying that we felt the absence of dead or wounded game to be a trifling circumstance of no account. As we were out from early morning, my sister-in-law furnished us with a plentiful supply of _luchis_ with appropriate accompaniments; and as these did not depend upon the fortunes of our chase we never had to return empty. The neighbourhood of Maniktola is not wanting in Villa-gardens. We would turn into any one of these at the end, and high-and low-born alike, seated on the bathing platform of a tank, would fling ourselves on the _luchis_ in right good earnest, all that was left of them being the vessels they were brought in. Braja Babu was one of the most enthusiastic of these blood-thirstless _shikaris_. He was the Superintendent of the Metropolitan Institution and had also been our private tutor for a time. One day he had the happy idea of accosting the _mali_ (gardener) of a villa-garden into which we had thus trespassed with: "Hallo, has uncle been here lately!" The _mali_ lost no time in saluting him respectfully before he replied: "No, Sir, the master hasn't been lately." "All right, get us some green cocoanuts off the trees." We had a fine drink after our _luchis_ that day. A Zamindar in a small way was among our party. He owned a villa on the river side. One day we had a picnic there together, in defiance of caste rules. In the afternoon there was a tremendous storm. We stood on the river-side stairs leading into the water and shouted out songs to its accompaniment. I cannot truthfully assert that all the seven notes of the scale could properly be distinguished in Rajnarain Babu's singing, nevertheless he sent forth his voice and, as in the old Sanskrit works the text is drowned by the notes, so in Rajnarain Babu's musical efforts the vigorous play of his limbs and features overwhelmed his feebler vocal performance; his head swung from side to side marking time, while the storm played havoc with his flowing beard. It was late in the night when we turned homewards in a hackney carriage. By that time the storm clouds had dispersed and the stars twinkled forth. The darkness had become intense, the atmosphere silent, the village roads deserted, and the thickets on either side filled with fireflies like a carnival of sparks scattered in some noiseless revelry. One of the objects of our association was to encourage the manufacture of lucifer matches, and similar small industries. For this purpose each member had to contribute a tenth of his income. Matches had to be made, but matchwood was difficult to get; for though we all know with what fiery energy a bundle of _khangras_[40] can be wielded in capable hands, the thing that burns at its touch is not a lamp wick. After many experiments we succeeded in making a boxful of matches. The patriotic enthusiasm which was thus evidenced did not constitute their only value, for the money that was spent in their making might have served to light the family hearth for the space of a year. Another little defect was that these matches could not be got to burn unless there was a light handy to touch them up with. If they could only have inherited some of the patriotic flame of which they were born they might have been marketable even to-day. News came to us that some young student was trying to make a power loom. Off we went to see it. None of us had the knowledge with which to test its practical usefulness, but in our capacity for believing and hoping we were inferior to none. The poor fellow had got into a bit of debt over the cost of his machine which we repaid for him. Then one day we found Braja Babu coming over to our house with a flimsy country towel tied round his head. "Made in our loom!" he shouted as with hands uplifted he executed a war-dance. The outside of Braja Babu's head had then already begun to ripen into grey! At last some worldly-wise people came and joined our society, made us taste of the fruit of knowledge, and broke up our little paradise. When I first knew Rajnarain Babu, I was not old enough to appreciate his many-sidedness. In him were combined many opposites. In spite of his hoary hair and beard he was as young as the youngest of us, his venerable exterior serving only as a white mantle for keeping his youth perpetually fresh. Even his extensive learning had not been able to do him any damage, for it left him absolutely simple. To the end of his life the incessant flow of his hearty laughter suffered no check, neither from the gravity of age, nor ill-health, nor domestic affliction, nor profundity of thought, nor variety of knowledge, all of which had been his in ample measure. He had been a favourite pupil of Richardson and brought up in an atmosphere of English learning, nevertheless he flung aside all obstacles due to his early habit and gave himself up lovingly and devotedly to Bengali literature. Though the meekest of men, he was full of fire which flamed its fiercest in his patriotism, as though to burn to ashes the shortcomings and destitution of his country. The memory of this smile-sweetened fervour-illumined lifelong-youthful saint is one that is worth cherishing by our countrymen. (23) _The Bharati_ On the whole the period of which I am writing was for me one of ecstatic excitement. Many a night have I spent without sleep, not for any particular reason but from a mere desire to do the reverse of the obvious. I would keep up reading in the dim light of our school room all alone; the distant church clock would chime every quarter as if each passing hour was being put up to auction; and the loud _Haribols_ of the bearers of the dead, passing along Chitpore Road on their way to the Nimtollah cremation ground, would now and then resound. Through some summer moonlight nights I would be wandering about like an unquiet spirit among the lights and shadows of the tubs and pots on the garden of the roof-terrace. Those who would dismiss this as sheer poetising would be wrong. The very earth in spite of its having aged considerably surprises us occasionally by its departure from sober stability; in the days of its youth, when it had not become hardened and crusty, it was effusively volcanic and indulged in many a wild escapade. In the days of man's first youth the same sort of thing happens. So long as the materials which go to form his life have not taken on their final shape they are apt to be turbulent in the process of their formation. This was the time when my brother Jyotirindra decided to start the _Bharati_ with our eldest brother as editor, giving us fresh food for enthusiasm. I was then just sixteen, but I was not left out of the editorial staff. A short time before, in all the insolence of my youthful vanity, I had written a criticism of the _Meghanadabadha_. As acidity is characteristic of the unripe mango so is abuse of the immature critic. When other powers are lacking, the power of pricking seems to be at its sharpest. I had thus sought immortality by leaving my scratches on that immortal epic. This impudent criticism was my first contribution to the Bharati. In the first volume I also published a long poem called _Kavikahini_, The Poet's Story. It was the product of an age when the writer had seen practically nothing of the world except an exaggerated image of his own nebulous self. So the hero of the story was naturally a poet, not the writer as he was, but as he imagined or desired himself to seem. It would hardly be correct to say that he desired to _be_ what he portrayed; that represented more what he thought was expected of him, what would make the world admiringly nod and say: "Yes, a poet indeed, quite the correct thing." In it was a great parade of universal love, that pet subject of the budding poet, which sounds as big as it is easy to talk about. While yet any truth has not dawned upon one's own mind, and others' words are one's only stock-in-trade, simplicity and restraint in expression are not possible. Then, in the endeavour to display magnified that which is really big in itself, it becomes impossible to avoid a grotesque and ridiculous exhibition. When I blush to read these effusions of my boyhood I am also struck with the fear that very possibly in my later writings the same distortion, wrought by straining after effect, lurks in a less obvious form. The loudness of my voice, I doubt not, often drowns the thing I would say; and some day or other Time will find me out. The _Kavikahini_ was the first work of mine to appear in book form. When I went with my second brother to Ahmedabad, some enthusiastic friend of mine took me by surprise by printing and publishing it and sending me a copy. I cannot say that he did well, but the feeling that was roused in me at the time did not resemble that of an indignant judge. He got his punishment, however, not from the author, but from the public who hold the purse strings. I have heard that the dead load of the books lay, for many a long day, heavy on the shelves of the booksellers and the mind of the luckless publisher. Writings of the age at which I began to contribute to the _Bharati_ cannot possibly be fit for publication. There is no better way of ensuring repentance at maturity than to rush into print too early. But it has one redeeming feature: the irresistible impulse to see one's writings in print exhausts itself during early life. Who are the readers, what do they say, what printers' errors have remained uncorrected, these and the like worries run their course as infantile maladies and leave one leisure in later life to attend to one's literary work in a healthier frame of mind. Bengali literature is not old enough to have elaborated those internal checks which can serve to control its votaries. As experience in writing is gained the Bengali writer has to evolve the restraining force from within himself. This makes it impossible for him to avoid the creation of a great deal of rubbish during a considerable length of time. The ambition to work wonders with the modest gifts at one's disposal is bound to be an obsession in the beginning, so that the effort to transcend at every step one's natural powers, and therewith the bounds of truth and beauty, is always visible in early writings. To recover one's normal self, to learn to respect one's powers as they are, is a matter of time. However that may be, I have left much of youthful folly to be ashamed of, besmirching the pages of the _Bharati_; and this shames me not for its literary defects alone but for its atrocious impudence, its extravagant excesses and its high-sounding artificiality. At the same time I am free to recognise that the writings of that period were pervaded with an enthusiasm the value of which cannot be small. It was a period to which, if error was natural, so was the boyish faculty of hoping, believing and rejoicing. And if the fuel of error was necessary for feeding the flame of enthusiasm then while that which was fit to be reduced to ashes will have become ash, the good work done by the flame will not have been in vain in my life. PART V (24) _Ahmedabad_ When the _Bharati_ entered upon its second year, my second brother proposed to take me to England; and when my father gave his consent, this further unasked favour of providence came on me as a surprise. As a first step I accompanied my brother to Ahmedabad where he was posted as judge. My sister-in-law with her children was then in England, so the house was practically empty. The Judge's house is known as _Shahibagh_ and was a palace of the Badshahs of old. At the foot of the wall supporting a broad terrace flowed the thin summer stream of the Savarmati river along one edge of its ample bed of sand. My brother used to go off to his court, and I would be left all alone in the vast expanse of the palace, with only the cooing of the pigeons to break the midday stillness; and an unaccountable curiosity kept me wandering about the empty rooms. Into the niches in the wall of a large chamber my brother had put his books. One of these was a gorgeous edition of Tennyson's works, with big print and numerous pictures. The book, for me, was as silent as the palace, and, much in the same way I wandered among its picture plates. Not that I could not make anything of the text, but it spoke to me more like inarticulate cooings than words. In my brother's library I also found a book of collected Sanskrit poems edited by Dr. Haberlin and printed at the old Serampore press. This was also beyond my understanding but the sonorous Sanskrit words, and the march of the metre, kept me tramping among the _Amaru Shataka_ poems to the mellow roll of their drum call. In the upper room of the palace tower was my lonely hermit cell, my only companions being a nest of wasps. In the unrelieved darkness of the night I slept there alone. Sometimes a wasp or two would drop off the nest on to my bed, and if perchance I happened to roll on one, the meeting was unpleasing to the wasp and keenly discomforting to me. On moonlight nights pacing round and round the extensive terrace overlooking the river was one of my caprices. It was while so doing that I first composed my own tunes for my songs. The song addressed to the Rose-maiden was one of these, and it still finds a place in my published works. Finding how imperfect was my knowledge of English I set to work reading through some English books with the help of a dictionary. From my earliest years it was my habit not to let any want of complete comprehension interfere with my reading on, quite satisfied with the structure which my imagination reared on the bits which I understood here and there. I am reaping even to-day both the good and bad effects of this habit. (25) _England_ After six months thus spent in Ahmedabad we started for England. In an unlucky moment I began to write letters about my journey to my relatives and to the _Bharati_. Now it is beyond my power to call them back. These were nothing but the outcome of youthful bravado. At that age the mind refuses to admit that its greatest pride is in its power to understand, to accept, to respect; and that modesty is the best means of enlarging its domain. Admiration and praise are looked upon as a sign of weakness or surrender, and the desire to cry down and hurt and demolish with argument gives rise to this kind of intellectual fireworks. These attempts of mine to establish my superiority by revilement might have occasioned me amusement to-day, had not their want of straightness and common courtesy been too painful. From my earliest years I had had practically no commerce with the outside world. To be plunged in this state, at the age of 17, into the midst of the social sea of England would have justified considerable misgiving as to my being able to keep afloat. But as my sister-in-law happened to be in Brighton with her children I weathered the first shock of it under her shelter. Winter was then approaching. One evening as we were chatting round the fireside, the children came running to us with the exciting news that it had been snowing. We at once went out. It was bitingly cold, the sky filled with white moonlight, the earth covered with white snow. It was not the face of Nature familiar to me, but something quite different--like a dream. Everything near seemed to have receded far away, leaving the still white figure of an ascetic steeped in deep meditation. The sudden revelation, on the mere stepping outside a door, of such wonderful, such immense beauty had never before come upon me. My days passed merrily under the affectionate care of my sister-in-law and in boisterous rompings with the children. They were greatly tickled at my curious English pronunciation, and though in the rest of their games I could whole-heartedly join, this I failed to see the fun of. How could I explain to them that there was no logical means of distinguishing between the sound of _a_ in warm and _o_ in worm. Unlucky that I was, I had to bear the brunt of the ridicule which was more properly the due of the vagaries of English spelling. I became quite an adept in inventing new ways of keeping the children occupied and amused. This art has stood me in good stead many a time thereafter, and its usefulness for me is not yet over. But I no longer feel in myself the same unbounded profusion of ready contrivance. That was the first opportunity I had for giving my heart to children, and it had all the freshness and overflowing exuberance of such a first gift. But I had not set out on this journey to exchange a home beyond the seas for the one on this side. The idea was that I should study Law and come back a barrister. So one day I was put into a public school in Brighton. The first thing the Headmaster said after scanning my features was: "What a splendid head you have!" This detail lingers in my memory because she, who at home was an enthusiast in her self-imposed duty of keeping my vanity in check, had impressed on me that my cranium[41] and features generally, compared with that of many another were barely of a medium order. I hope the reader will not fail to count it to my credit that I implicitly believed her, and inwardly deplored the parsimony of the Creator in the matter of my making. On many another occasion, finding myself estimated by my English acquaintances differently from what I had been accustomed to be by her, I was led to seriously worry my mind over the divergence in the standard of taste between the two countries! One thing in the Brighton school seemed very wonderful: the other boys were not at all rude to me. On the contrary they would often thrust oranges and apples into my pockets and run away. I can only ascribe this uncommon behaviour of theirs to my being a foreigner. I was not long in this school either--but that was no fault of the school. Mr. Tarak Palit[42] was then in England. He could see that this was not the way for me to get on, and prevailed upon my brother to allow him to take me to London, and leave me there to myself in a lodging house. The lodgings selected faced the Regent Gardens. It was then the depth of winter. There was not a leaf on the row of trees in front which stood staring at the sky with their scraggy snow-covered branches--a sight which chilled my very bones. For the newly arrived stranger there can hardly be a more cruel place than London in winter. I knew no one near by, nor could I find my way about. The days of sitting alone at a window, gazing at the outside world, came back into my life. But the scene in this case was not attractive. There was a frown on its countenance; the sky turbid; the light lacking lustre like a dead man's eye; the horizon shrunk upon itself; with never an inviting smile from a broad hospitable world. The room was but scantily furnished, but there happened to be a harmonium which, after the daylight came to its untimely end, I used to play upon according to my fancy. Sometimes Indians would come to see me; and, though my acquaintance with them was but slight, when they rose to leave I felt inclined to hold them back by their coat-tails. While living in these rooms there was one who came to teach me Latin. His gaunt figure with its worn-out clothing seemed no more able than the naked trees to withstand the winter's grip. I do not know what his age was but he clearly looked older than his years. Some days in the course of our lessons he would suddenly be at a loss for some word and look vacant and ashamed. His people at home counted him a crank. He had become possessed of a theory. He believed that in each age some one dominant idea is manifested in every human society in all parts of the world; and though it may take different shapes under different degrees of civilisation, it is at bottom one and the same; nor is such idea taken from one by another by any process of adoption, for this truth holds good even where there is no intercourse. His great preoccupation was the gathering and recording of facts to prove this theory. And while so engaged his home lacked food, his body clothes. His daughters had but scant respect for his theory and were perhaps constantly upbraiding him for his infatuation. Some days one could see from his face that he had lighted upon some new proof, and that his thesis had correspondingly advanced. On these occasions I would broach the subject, and wax enthusiastic at his enthusiasm. On other days he would be steeped in gloom, as if his burden was too heavy to bear. Then would our lessons halt at every step; his eyes wander away into empty space; and his mind refuse to be dragged into the pages of the first Latin Grammar. I felt keenly for the poor body-starved theory-burdened soul, and though I was under no delusion as to the assistance I got in my Latin, I could not make up my mind to get rid of him. This pretence of learning Latin lasted as long as I was at these lodgings. When on the eve of leaving them I offered to settle his dues he said piteously: "I have done nothing, and only wasted your time, I cannot accept any payment from you." It was with great difficulty that I got him at last to take his fees. Though my Latin tutor had never ventured to trouble me with the proofs of his theory, yet up to this day I do not disbelieve it. I am convinced that the minds of men are connected through some deep-lying continuous medium, and that a disturbance in one part is by it secretly communicated to others. Mr. Palit next placed me in the house of a coach named Barker. He used to lodge and prepare students for their examinations. Except his mild little wife there was not a thing with any pretensions to attractiveness about this household. One can understand how such a tutor can get pupils, for these poor creatures do not often get the chance of making a choice. But it is painful to think of the conditions under which such men get wives. Mrs. Barker had attempted to console herself with a pet dog, but when Barker wanted to punish his wife he tortured the dog. So that her affection for the unfortunate animal only made for an enlargement of her field of sensibility. From these surroundings, when my sister-in-law sent for me to Torquay in Devonshire, I was only too glad to run off to her. I cannot tell how happy I was with the hills there, the sea, the flower-covered meadows, the shade of the pine woods, and my two little restlessly playful companions. I was nevertheless sometimes tormented with questionings as to why, when my eyes were so surfeited with beauty, my mind saturated with joy, and my leisure-filled days crossing over the limitless blue of space freighted with unalloyed happiness, there should be no call of poetry to me. So one day off I went along the rocky shore, armed with MS. book and umbrella, to fulfil my poet's destiny. The spot I selected was of undoubted beauty, for that did not depend on my rhyme or fancy. There was a flat bit of overhanging rock reaching out as with a perpetual eagerness over the waters; rocked on the foam-flecked waves of the liquid blue in front, the sunny sky slept smilingly to its lullaby; behind, the shade of the fringe of pines lay spread like the slipped off garment of some languorous wood nymph. Enthroned on that seat of stone I wrote a poem _Magnatari_ (the sunken boat). I might have believed to-day that it was good, had I taken the precaution of sinking it then in the sea. But such consolation is not open to me, for it happens to be existing in the body; and though banished from my published works, a writ might yet cause it to be produced. The messenger of duty however was not idle. Again came its call and I returned to London. This time I found a refuge in the household of Dr. Scott. One fine evening with bag and baggage I invaded his home. Only the white haired Doctor, his wife and their eldest daughter were there. The two younger girls, alarmed at this incursion of an Indian stranger had gone off to stay with a relative. I think they came back home only after they got the news of my not being dangerous. In a very short time I became like one of the family. Mrs. Scott treated me as a son, and the heartfelt kindness I got from her daughters is rare even from one's own relations. One thing struck me when living in this family--that human nature is everywhere the same. We are fond of saying, and I also believed, that the devotion of an Indian wife to her husband is something unique, and not to be found in Europe. But I at least was unable to discern any difference between Mrs. Scott and an ideal Indian wife. She was entirely wrapped up in her husband. With their modest means there was no fussing about of too many servants, and Mrs. Scott attended to every detail of her husband's wants herself. Before he came back home from his work of an evening, she would arrange his arm-chair and woollen slippers before the fire with her own hands. She would never allow herself to forget for a moment the things he liked, or the behaviour which pleased him. She would go over the house every morning, with their only maid, from attic to kitchen, and the brass rods on the stairs and the door knobs and fittings would be scrubbed and polished till they shone again. Over and above this domestic routine there were the many calls of social duty. After getting through all her daily duties she would join with zest in our evening readings and music, for it is not the least of the duties of a good housewife to make real the gaiety of the leisure hour. Some evenings I would join the girls in a table-turning seance. We would place our fingers on a small tea table and it would go capering about the room. It got to be so that whatever we touched began to quake and quiver. Mrs. Scott did not quite like all this. She would sometimes gravely shake her head and say she had her doubts about its being right. She bore it bravely, however, not liking to put a damper on our youthful spirits. But one day when we put our hands on Dr. Scott's chimneypot to make it turn, that was too much for her. She rushed up in a great state of mind and forbade us to touch it. She could not bear the idea of Satan having anything to do, even for a moment, with her husband's head-gear. In all her actions her reverence for her husband was the one thing that stood out. The memory of her sweet self-abnegation makes it clear to me that the ultimate perfection of all womanly love is to be found in reverence; that where no extraneous cause has hampered its true development woman's love naturally grows into worship. Where the appointments of luxury are in profusion, and frivolity tarnishes both day and night, this love is degraded, and woman's nature finds not the joy of its perfection. I spent some months here. Then it was time for my brother to return home, and my father wrote to me to accompany him. I was delighted at the prospect. The light of my country, the sky of my country, had been silently calling me. When I said good bye Mrs. Scott took me by the hand and wept. "Why did you come to us," she said, "if you must go so soon?" That household no longer exists in London. Some of the members of the Doctor's family have departed to the other world, others are scattered in places unknown to me. But it will always live in my memory. One winter's day, as I was passing through a street in Tunbridge Wells, I saw a man standing on the road side. His bare toes were showing through his gaping boots, his breast was partly uncovered. He said nothing to me, perhaps because begging was forbidden, but he looked up at my face just for a moment. The coin I gave him was perhaps more valuable than he expected, for, after I had gone on a bit, he came after me and said: "Sir, you have given me a gold piece by mistake," with which he offered to return it to me. I might not have particularly remembered this, but for a similar thing which happened on another occasion. When I first reached the Torquay railway station a porter took my luggage to the cab outside. After searching my purse for small change in vain, I gave him half-a-crown as the cab started. After a while he came running after us, shouting to the cabman to stop. I thought to myself that finding me to be such an innocent he had hit upon some excuse for demanding more. As the cab stopped he said: "You must have mistaken a half-crown piece for a penny, Sir!" I cannot say that I have never been cheated while in England, but not in any way which it would be fair to hold in remembrance. What grew chiefly upon me, rather, was the conviction that only those who are trustworthy know how to trust. I was an unknown foreigner, and could have easily evaded payment with impunity, yet no London shopkeeper ever mistrusted me. During the whole period of my stay in England I was mixed up in a farcical comedy which I had to play out from start to finish. I happened to get acquainted with the widow of some departed high Anglo-Indian official. She was good enough to call me by the pet-name Ruby. Some Indian friend of hers had composed a doleful poem in English in memory of her husband. It is needless to expatiate on its poetic merit or felicity of diction. As my ill-luck would have it, the composer had indicated that the dirge was to be chanted to the mode _Behaga_. So the widow one day entreated me to sing it to her thus. Like the silly innocent that I was, I weakly acceded. There was unfortunately no one there but I who could realise the atrociously ludicrous way in which the _Behaga_ mode combined with those absurd verses. The widow seemed intensely touched to hear the Indian's lament for her husband sung to its native melody. I thought that there the matter ended, but that was not to be. I frequently met the widowed lady at different social gatherings, and when after dinner we joined the ladies in the drawing room, she would ask me to sing that _Behaga_. Everyone else would anticipate some extraordinary specimen of Indian music and would add their entreaties to hers. Then from her pocket would come forth printed copies of that fateful composition, and my ears begin to redden and tingle. And at last, with bowed head and quavering voice I would have to make a beginning--but too keenly conscious that to none else in the room but me was this performance sufficiently heartrending. At the end, amidst much suppressed tittering, there would come a chorus of "Thank you very much!" "How interesting!" And in spite of its being winter I would perspire all over. Who would have predicted at my birth or at his death what a severe blow to me would be the demise of this estimable Anglo-Indian! Then, for a time, while I was living with Dr. Scott and attending lectures at the University College, I lost touch with the widow. She was in a suburban locality some distance away from London, and I frequently got letters from her inviting me there. But my dread of that dirge kept me from accepting these invitations. At length I got a pressing telegram from her. I was on my way to college when this telegram reached me and my stay in England was then about to come to its close. I thought to myself I ought to see the widow once more before my departure, and so yielded to her importunity. Instead of coming home from college I went straight to the railway station. It was a horrible day, bitterly cold, snowing and foggy. The station I was bound for was the terminus of the line. So I felt quite easy in mind and did not think it worth while to inquire about the time of arrival. All the station platforms were coming on the right hand side, and in the right hand corner seat I had ensconced myself reading a book. It had already become so dark that nothing was visible outside. One by one the other passengers got down at their destinations. We reached and left the station just before the last one. Then the train stopped again, but there was nobody to be seen, nor any lights or platform. The mere passenger has no means of divining why trains should sometimes stop at the wrong times and places, so, giving up the attempt, I went on with my reading. Then the train began to move backwards. There seems to be no accounting for railway eccentricity, thought I as I once more returned to my book. But when we came right back to the previous station, I could remain indifferent no longer. "When are we getting to ----" I inquired at the station. "You are just coming from there," was the reply. "Where are we going now, then?" I asked, thoroughly flurried. "To London." I thereupon understood that this was a shuttle train. On inquiring about the next train to ---- I was informed that there were no more trains that night. And in reply to my next question I gathered that there was no inn within five miles. I had left home after breakfast at ten in the morning, and had had nothing since. When abstinence is the only choice, an ascetic frame of mind comes easy. I buttoned up my thick overcoat to the neck and seating myself under a platform lamp went on with my reading. The book I had with me was Spencer's _Data of Ethics_, then recently published. I consoled myself with the thought that I might never get another such opportunity of concentrating my whole attention on such a subject. After a short time a porter came and informed me that a special was running and would be in in half an hour. I felt so cheered up by the news that I could not go on any longer with the _Data of Ethics_. Where I was due at seven I arrived at length at nine. "What is this, Ruby?" asked my hostess. "Whatever have you been doing with yourself?" I was unable to take much pride in the account of my wonderful adventures which I gave her. Dinner was over; nevertheless, as my misfortune was hardly my fault, I did not expect condign punishment, especially as the dispenser was a woman. But all that the widow of the high Anglo-Indian official said to me was: "Come along, Ruby, have a cup of tea." I never was a tea-drinker, but in the hope that it might be of some assistance in allaying my consuming hunger I managed to swallow a cup of strong decoction with a couple of dry biscuits. When I at length reached the drawing room I found a gathering of elderly ladies and among them one pretty young American who was engaged to a nephew of my hostess and seemed busy going through the usual premarital love passages. "Let's have some dancing," said my hostess. I was neither in the mood nor bodily condition for that exercise. But it is the docile who achieve the most impossible things in this world; so, though the dance was primarily got up for the benefit of the engaged couple, I had to dance with the ladies of considerably advanced age, with only the tea and biscuits between myself and starvation. But my sorrows did not end here. "Where are you putting up for the night?" asked my hostess. This was a question for which I was not prepared. While I stared at her, speechless, she explained that as the local inn would close at midnight I had better betake myself thither without further delay. Hospitality, however, was not entirely wanting for I had not to find the inn unaided, a servant showing me the way there with a lantern. At first I thought this might prove a blessing in disguise, and at once proceeded to make inquiries for food: flesh, fish or vegetable, hot or cold, anything! I was told that drinks I could have in any variety but nothing to eat. Then I looked to slumber for forgetfulness, but there seemed to be no room even in her world-embracing lap. The sand-stone floor of the bed-room was icy cold, an old bedstead and worn-out wash-stand being its only furniture. In the morning the Anglo-Indian widow sent for me to breakfast. I found a cold repast spread out, evidently the remnants of last night's dinner. A small portion of this, lukewarm or cold, offered to me last night could not have hurt anyone, while my dancing might then have been less like the agonised wrigglings of a landed carp. After breakfast my hostess informed me that the lady for whose delectation I had been invited to sing was ill in bed, and that I would have to serenade her from her bed-room door. I was made to stand up on the staircase landing. Pointing to a closed door the widow said: "That's where she is." And I gave voice to that _Behaga_ dirge facing the mysterious unknown on the other side. Of what happened to the invalid as the result I have yet received no news. After my return to London I had to expiate in bed the consequences of my fatuous complaisance. Dr. Scott's girls implored me, on my conscience, not to take this as a sample of English hospitality. It was the effect of India's salt, they protested. (26) _Loken Palit_ While I was attending lectures on English literature at the University College, Loken Palit was my class fellow. He was about 4 years younger than I. At the age I am writing these reminiscences a difference of 4 years is not perceptible. But it is difficult for friendship to bridge the gulf between 17 and 13. Lacking the weight of years the boy is always anxious to keep up the dignity of seniority. But this did not raise any barrier in my mind in the case of the boy Loken, for I could not feel that he was in any way my junior. Boy and girl students sat together in the College library for study. This was the place for our tete-a-tete. Had we been fairly quiet about it none need have complained, but my young friend was so surcharged with high spirits that at the least provocation they would burst forth as laughter. In all countries girls have a perverse degree of application to their studies, and I feel repentant as I recall the multitude of reproachful blue eyes which vainly showered disapprobation on our unrestrained merriment. But in those days I felt not the slightest sympathy with the distress of disturbed studiousness. By the grace of Providence I have never had a headache in my life, nor a moment of compunction for interrupted school studies. With our laughter as an almost unbroken accompaniment we managed also to do a bit of literary discussion, and, though Loken's reading of Bengali literature was less extensive than mine, he made up for that by the keenness of his intellect. Among the subjects we discussed was Bengali orthography. The way it arose was this. One of the Scott girls wanted me to teach her Bengali. When taking her through the alphabet I expressed my pride that Bengali spelling has a conscience, and does not delight in overstepping rules at every step. I made clear to her how laughable would have been the waywardness of English spelling but for the tragic compulsion we were under to cram it for our examinations. But my pride had a fall. It transpired that Bengali spelling was quite as impatient of bondage, but that habit had blinded me to its transgressions. Then I began to search for the laws regulating its lawlessness. I was quite surprised at the wonderful assistance which Loken proved to be in this matter. After Loken had got into the Indian Civil Service, and returned home, the work, which had in the University College library had its source in rippling merriment, flowed on in a widening stream. Loken's boisterous delight in literature was as the wind in the sails of my literary adventure. And when at the height of my youth I was driving the tandem of prose and poetry at a furious rate, Loken's unstinted appreciation kept my energies from flagging for a moment. Many an extraordinary prose or poetical flight have I taken in his bungalow in the moffussil. On many an occasion did our literary and musical gatherings assemble under the auspices of the evening star to disperse, as did the lamplights at the breezes of dawn, under the morning star. Of the many lotus flowers at _Saraswati's_[43] feet the blossom of friendship must be her favorite. I have not come across much of golden pollen in her lotus bank, but have nothing to complain of as regards the profusion of the sweet savour of good-fellowship. (27) _The Broken Heart_ While in England I began another poem, which I went on with during my journey home, and finished after my return. This was published under the name of _Bhagna Hriday_, The Broken Heart. At the time I thought it very good. There was nothing strange in the writer's thinking so; but it did not fail to gain the appreciation of the readers of the time as well. I remember how, after it came out, the chief minister of the late Raja of Tipperah called on me solely to deliver the message that the Raja admired the poem and entertained high hopes of the writer's future literary career. About this poem of my eighteenth year let me set down here what I wrote in a letter when I was thirty: When I began to write the _Bhagna Hriday_ I was eighteen--neither in my childhood nor my youth. This borderland age is not illumined with the direct rays of Truth;--its reflection is seen here and there, and the rest is shadow. And like twilight shades its imaginings are long-drawn and vague, making the real world seem like a world of phantasy. The curious part of it is that not only was I eighteen, but everyone around me seemed to be eighteen likewise; and we all flitted about in the same baseless, substanceless world of imagination, where even the most intense joys and sorrows seemed like the joys and sorrows of dreamland. There being nothing real to weigh them against, the trivial did duty for the great. This period of my life, from the age of fifteen or sixteen to twenty-two or twenty-three, was one of utter disorderliness. When, in the early ages of the Earth, land and water had not yet distinctly separated, huge misshapen amphibious creatures walked the trunk-less forests growing on the oozing silt. Thus do the passions of the dim ages of the immature mind, as disproportionate and curiously shaped, haunt the unending shades of its trackless, nameless wildernesses. They know not themselves, nor the aim of their wanderings; and, because they do not, they are ever apt to imitate something else. So, at this age of unmeaning activity, when my undeveloped powers, unaware of and unequal to their object, were jostling each other for an outlet, each sought to assert superiority through exaggeration. When milk-teeth are trying to push their way through, they work the infant into a fever. All this agitation finds no justification till the teeth are out and have begun assisting in the absorption of food. In the same way do our early passions torment the mind, like a malady, till they realise their true relationship with the outer world. The lessons I learnt from my experiences at that stage are to be found in every moral text-book, but are not therefore to be despised. That which keeps our appetites confined within us, and checks their free access to the outside, poisons our life. Such is selfishness which refuses to give free play to our desires, and prevents them from reaching their real goal, and that is why it is always accompanied by festering untruths and extravagances. When our desires find unlimited freedom in good work they shake off their diseased condition and come back to their own nature;--that is their true end, there also is the joy of their being. The condition of my immature mind which I have described was fostered both by the example and precept of the time, and I am not sure that the effects of these are not lingering on to the present day. Glancing back at the period of which I tell, it strikes me that we had gained more of stimulation than of nourishment out of English Literature. Our literary gods then were Shakespeare, Milton and Byron; and the quality in their work which stirred us most was strength of passion. In the social life of Englishmen passionate outbursts are kept severely in check, for which very reason, perhaps, they so dominate their literature, making its characteristic to be the working out of extravagantly vehement feelings to an inevitable conflagration. At least this uncontrolled excitement was what we learnt to look on as the quintessence of English literature. [Illustration: Moonlight] In the impetuous declamation of English poetry by Akshay Chowdhury, our initiator into English literature, there was the wildness of intoxication. The frenzy of Romeo's and Juliet's love, the fury of King Lear's impotent lamentation, the all-consuming fire of Othello's jealousy, these were the things that roused us to enthusiastic admiration. Our restricted social life, our narrower field of activity, was hedged in with such monotonous uniformity that tempestuous feelings found no entrance;--all was as calm and quiet as could be. So our hearts naturally craved the life-bringing shock of the passionate emotion in English literature. Ours was not the æsthetic enjoyment of literary art, but the jubilant welcome by stagnation of a turbulent wave, even though it should stir up to the surface the slime of the bottom. Shakespeare's contemporary literature represents the war-dance of the day when the Renascence came to Europe in all the violence of its reaction against the severe curbing and cramping of the hearts of men. The examination of good and evil, beauty and ugliness, was not the main object,--man then seemed consumed with the anxiety to break through all barriers to the inmost sanctuary of his being, there to discover the ultimate image of his own violent desire. That is why in this literature we find such poignant, such exuberant, such unbridled expression. The spirit of this bacchanalian revelry of Europe found entrance into our demurely well-behaved social world, woke us up, and made us lively. We were dazzled by the glow of unfettered life which fell upon our custom-smothered heart, pining for an opportunity to disclose itself. There was another such day in English literature when the slow-measure of Pope's common time gave place to the dance-rhythm of the French revolution. This had Byron for its poet. And the impetuosity of his passion also moved our veiled heart-bride in the seclusion of her corner. In this wise did the excitement of the pursuit of English literature come to sway the heart of the youth of our time, and at mine the waves of this excitement kept beating from every side. The first awakening is the time for the play of energy, not its repression. And yet our case was so different from that of Europe. There the excitability and impatience of bondage was a reflection from its history into its literature. Its expression was consistent with its feeling. The roaring of the storm was heard because a storm was really raging. The breeze therefrom that ruffled our little world sounded in reality but little above a murmur. Therein it failed to satisfy our minds, so that our attempts to imitate the blast of a hurricane led us easily into exaggeration,--a tendency which still persists and may not prove easy of cure. And for this, the fact that in English literature the reticence of true art has not yet appeared, is responsible. Human emotion is only one of the ingredients of literature and not its end,--which is the beauty of perfect fulness consisting in simplicity and restraint. This is a proposition which English literature does not yet fully admit. Our minds from infancy to old age are being moulded by this English literature alone. But other literatures of Europe, both classical and modern, of which the art-form shows the well-nourished development due to a systematic cultivation of self-control, are not subjects of our study; and so, as it seems to me, we are yet unable to arrive at a correct perception of the true aim and method of literary work. Akshay Babu, who had made the passion in English literature living to us, was himself a votary of the emotional life. The importance of realising truth in the fulness of its perfection seemed less apparent to him than that of feeling it in the heart. He had no intellectual respect for religion, but songs of _Shy[=a]m[=a]_, the dark Mother, would bring tears to his eyes. He felt no call to search for ultimate reality; whatever moved his heart served him for the time as the truth, even obvious coarseness not proving a deterrent. Atheism was the dominant note of the English prose writings then in vogue,--Bentham, Mill and Comte being favourite authors. Theirs was the reasoning in terms of which our youths argued. The age of Mill constitutes a natural epoch in English History. It represents a healthy reaction of the body politic; these destructive forces having been brought in, temporarily, to rid it of accumulated thought-rubbish. In our country we received these in the letter, but never sought to make practical use of them, employing them only as a stimulant to incite ourselves to moral revolt. Atheism was thus for us a mere intoxication. For these reasons educated men then fell mainly into two classes. One class would be always thrusting themselves forward with unprovoked argumentation to cut to pieces all belief in God. Like the hunter whose hands itch, no sooner he spies a living creature on the top or at the foot of a tree, to kill it, whenever these came to learn of a harmless belief lurking anywhere in fancied security, they felt stirred up to sally forth and demolish it. We had for a short time a tutor of whom this was a pet diversion. Though I was a mere boy, even I could not escape his onslaughts. Not that his attainments were of any account, or that his opinions were the result of any enthusiastic search for the truth, being mostly gathered from others' lips. But though I fought him with all my strength, unequally matched in age as we were, I suffered many a bitter defeat. Sometimes I felt so mortified I almost wanted to cry. The other class consisted not of believers, but religious epicureans, who found comfort and solace in gathering together, and steeping themselves in pleasing sights, sounds and scents galore, under the garb of religious ceremonial; they luxuriated in the paraphernalia of worship. In neither of these classes was doubt or denial the outcome of the travail of their quest. Though these religious aberrations pained me, I cannot say I was not at all influenced by them. With the intellectual impudence of budding youth this revolt also found a place. The religious services which were held in our family I would have nothing to do with, I had not accepted them for my own. I was busy blowing up a raging flame with the bellows of my emotions. It was only the worship of fire, the giving of oblations to increase its flame--with no other aim. And because my endeavour had no end in view it was measureless, always reaching beyond any assigned limit. As with religion, so with my emotions, I felt no need for any underlying truth, my excitement being an end in itself. I call to mind some lines of a poet of that time: My heart is mine I have sold it to none, Be it tattered and torn and worn away, My heart is mine! From the standpoint of truth the heart need not worry itself so; for nothing compels it to wear itself to tatters. In truth sorrow is not desirable, but taken apart its pungency may appear savoury. This savour our poets often made much of; leaving out the god in whose worship they were indulging. This childishness our country has not yet succeeded in getting rid of. So even to-day, when we fail to see the truth of religion, we seek in its observance an artistic gratification. So, also, much of our patriotism is not service of the mother-land, but the luxury of bringing ourselves into a desirable attitude of mind toward the country. PART VI (28) _European Music_ When I was in Brighton I once went to hear some Prima Donna. I forget her name. It may have been Madame Neilson or Madame Albani. Never before had I come across such an extraordinary command over the voice. Even our best singers cannot hide their sense of effort; nor are they ashamed to bring out, as best they can, top notes or bass notes beyond their proper register. In our country the understanding portion of the audience think no harm in keeping the performance up to standard by dint of their own imagination. For the same reason they do not mind any harshness of voice or uncouthness of gesture in the exponent of a perfectly formed melody; on the contrary, they seem sometimes to be of opinion that such minor external defects serve better to set off the internal perfection of the composition,--as with the outward poverty of the Great Ascetic, Mahadeva, whose divinity shines forth naked. This feeling seems entirely wanting in Europe. There, outward embellishment must be perfect in every detail, and the least defect stands shamed and unable to face the public gaze. In our musical gatherings nothing is thought of spending half-an-hour in tuning up the _Tanpuras_, or hammering into tone the drums, little and big. In Europe such duties are performed beforehand, behind the scenes, for all that comes in front must be faultless. There is thus no room for any weak spot in the singer's voice. In our country a correct and artistic exposition[44] of the melody is the main object, thereon is concentrated all the effort. In Europe the voice is the object of culture, and with it they perform impossibilities. In our country the virtuoso is satisfied if he has heard the song; in Europe, they go to hear the singer. That is what I saw that day in Brighton. To me it was as good as a circus. But, admire the performance as I did, I could not appreciate the song. I could hardly keep from laughing when some of the _cadenzas_ imitated the warbling of birds. I felt all the time that it was a misapplication of the human voice. When it came to the turn of a male singer I was considerably relieved. I specially liked the tenor voices which had more of human flesh and blood in them, and seemed less like the disembodied lament of a forlorn spirit. After this, as I went on hearing and learning more and more of European music, I began to get into the spirit of it; but up to now I am convinced that our music and theirs abide in altogether different apartments, and do not gain entry to the heart by the self-same door. European music seems to be intertwined with its material life, so that the text of its songs may be as various as that life itself. If we attempt to put our tunes to the same variety of use they tend to lose their significance, and become ludicrous; for our melodies transcend the barriers of everyday life, and only thus can they carry us so deep into Pity, so high into Aloofness; their function being to reveal a picture of the inmost inexpressible depths of our being, mysterious and impenetrable, where the devotee may find his hermitage ready, or even the epicurean his bower, but where there is no room for the busy man of the world. I cannot claim that I gained admittance to the soul of European music. But what little of it I came to understand from the outside attracted me greatly in one way. It seemed to me so romantic. It is somewhat difficult to analyse what I mean by that word. What I would refer to is the aspect of variety, of abundance, of the waves on the sea of life, of the ever-changing light and shade on their ceaseless undulations. There is the opposite aspect--of pure extension, of the unwinking blue of the sky, of the silent hint of immeasureability in the distant circle of the horizon. However that may be, let me repeat, at the risk of not being perfectly clear, that whenever I have been moved by European music I have said to myself: it is romantic, it is translating into melody the evanescence of life. Not that we wholly lack the same attempt in some forms of our music; but it is less pronounced, less successful. Our melodies give voice to the star-spangled night, to the first reddening of dawn. They speak of the sky-pervading sorrow which lowers in the darkness of clouds; the speechless deep intoxication of the forest-roaming spring. (29) _Valmiki Pratibha_ We had a profusely decorated volume of Moore's Irish Melodies: and often have I listened to the enraptured recitation of these by Akshay Babu. The poems combined with the pictorial designs to conjure up for me a dream picture of the Ireland of old. I had not then actually heard the original tunes, but had sung these Irish Melodies to myself to the accompaniment of the harps in the pictures. I longed to hear the real tunes, to learn them, and sing them to Akshay Babu. Some longings unfortunately do get fulfilled in this life, and die in the process. When I went to England I did hear some of the Irish Melodies sung, and learnt them too, but that put an end to my keenness to learn more. They were simple, mournful and sweet, but they somehow did not fit in with the silent melody of the harp which filled the halls of the Old Ireland of my dreams. When I came back home I sung the Irish melodies I had learnt to my people. "What is the matter with Rabi's voice?" they exclaimed. "How funny and foreign it sounds!" They even felt my speaking voice had changed its tone. From this mixed cultivation of foreign and native melody was born the _Valmiki Pratibha_.[45] The tunes in this musical drama are mostly Indian, but they have been dragged out of their classic dignity; that which soared in the sky was taught to run on the earth. Those who have seen and heard it performed will, I trust, bear witness that the harnessing of Indian melodic modes to the service of the drama has proved neither derogatory nor futile. This conjunction is the only special feature of _Valmiki Pratibha_. The pleasing task of loosening the chains of melodic forms and making them adaptable to a variety of treatment completely engrossed me. Several of the songs of _Valmiki Pratibha_ were set to tunes originally severely classic in mode; some of the tunes were composed by my brother Jyotirindra; a few were adapted from European sources. The _Telena_[46] style of Indian modes specially lends itself to dramatic purposes and has been frequently utilized in this work. Two English tunes served for the drinking songs of the robber band, and an Irish melody for the lament of the wood nymphs. _Valmiki Pratibha_ is not a composition which will bear being read. Its significance is lost if it is not heard sung and seen acted. It is not what Europeans call an Opera, but a little drama set to music. That is to say, it is not primarily a musical composition. Very few of the songs are important or attractive by themselves; they all serve merely as the musical text of the play. Before I went to England we occasionally used to have gatherings of literary men in our house, at which music, recitations and light refreshments were served up. After my return one more such gathering was held, which happened to be the last. It was for an entertainment in this connection that the _Valmiki Pratibha_ was composed. I played _Valmiki_ and my niece, Pratibha, took the part of _Saraswati_--which bit of history remains recorded in the name. I had read in some work of Herbert Spencer's that speech takes on tuneful inflexions whenever emotion comes into play. It is a fact that the tone or tune is as important to us as the spoken word for the expression of anger, sorrow, joy and wonder. Spencer's idea that, through a development of these emotional modulations of voice, man found music, appealed to me. Why should it not do, I thought to myself, to act a drama in a kind of recitative based on this idea. The _Kathakas_[47] of our country attempt this to some extent, for they frequently break into a chant which, however, stops short of full melodic form. As blank verse is more elastic than rhymed, so such chanting, though not devoid of rhythm, can more freely adapt itself to the emotional interpretation of the text, because it does not attempt to conform to the more rigorous canons of tune and time required by a regular melodic composition. The expression of feeling being the object, these deficiencies in regard to form do not jar on the hearer. Encouraged by the success of this new line taken in the _Valmiki Pratibha_, I composed another musical play of the same class. It was called the _Kal Mrigaya_, The Fateful Hunt. The plot was based on the story of the accidental killing of the blind hermit's only son by King Dasaratha. It was played on a stage erected on our roof-terrace, and the audience seemed profoundly moved by its pathos. Afterwards, much of it was, with slight changes, incorporated in the _Valmiki Pratibha_, and this play ceased to be separately published in my works. Long afterwards, I composed a third musical play, _Mayar Khela_, the Play of _Maya_, an operetta of a different type. In this the songs were important, not the drama. In the others a series of dramatic situations were strung on a thread of melody; this was a garland of songs with just a thread of dramatic plot running through. The play of feeling, and not action, was its special feature. In point of fact I was, while composing it, saturated with the mood of song. The enthusiasm which went to the making of _Valmiki Pratibha_ and _Kal Mrigaya_ I have never felt for any other work of mine. In these two the creative musical impulse of the time found expression. My brother, Jyotirindra, was engaged the live-long day at his piano, refashioning the classic melodic forms at his pleasure. And, at every turn of his instrument, the old modes took on unthought-of shapes and expressed new shades of feeling. The melodic forms which had become habituated to their pristine stately gait, when thus compelled to march to more lively unconventional measures, displayed an unexpected agility and power; and moved us correspondingly. We could plainly hear the tunes speak to us while Akshay Babu and I sat on either side fitting words to them as they grew out of my brother's nimble fingers. I do not claim that our _libretto_ was good poetry but it served as a vehicle for the tunes. In the riotous joy of this revolutionary activity were these two musical plays composed, and so they danced merrily to every measure, whether or not technically correct, indifferent as to the tunes being homelike or foreign. On many an occasion has the Bengali reading public been grievously exercised over some opinion or literary form of mine, but it is curious to find that the daring with which I had played havoc with accepted musical notions did not rouse any resentment; on the contrary those who came to hear departed pleased. A few of Akshay Babu's compositions find place in the _Valmiki Pratibha_ and also adaptations from Vihari Chakravarti's _Sarada Mangal_ series of songs. I used to take the leading part in the performance of these musical dramas. From my early years I had a taste for acting, and firmly believed that I had a special aptitude for it. I think I proved that my belief was not ill-founded. I had only once before done the part of Aleek Babu in a farce written by my brother Jyotirindra. So these were really my first attempts at acting. I was then very young and nothing seemed to fatigue or trouble my voice. In our house, at the time, a cascade of musical emotion was gushing forth day after day, hour after hour, its scattered spray reflecting into our being a whole gamut of rainbow colours. Then, with the freshness of youth, our new-born energy, impelled by its virgin curiosity, struck out new paths in every direction. We felt we would try and test everything, and no achievement seemed impossible. We wrote, we sang, we acted, we poured ourselves out on every side. This was how I stepped into my twentieth year. Of these forces which so triumphantly raced our lives along, my brother Jyotirindra was the charioteer. He was absolutely fearless. Once, when I was a mere lad, and had never ridden a horse before, he made me mount one and gallop by his side, with no qualms about his unskilled companion. When at the same age, while we were at Shelidah, (the head-quarters of our estate,) news was brought of a tiger, he took me with him on a hunting expedition. I had no gun,--it would have been more dangerous to me than to the tiger if I had. We left our shoes at the outskirts of the jungle and crept in with bare feet. At last we scrambled up into a bamboo thicket, partly stripped of its thorn-like twigs, where I somehow managed to crouch behind my brother till the deed was done; with no means of even administering a shoe-beating to the unmannerly brute had he dared lay his offensive paws on me! Thus did my brother give me full freedom both internal and external in the face of all dangers. No usage or custom was a bondage for him, and so was he able to rid me of my shrinking diffidence. (30) _Evening Songs_ In the state of being confined within myself, of which I have been telling, I wrote a number of poems which have been grouped together, under the title of the _Heart-Wilderness_, in Mohita Babu's edition of my works. In one of the poems subsequently published in a volume called _Morning Songs_, the following lines occur: There is a vast wilderness whose name is _Heart_; Whose interlacing forest branches dandle and rock darkness like an infant. I lost my way in its depths. from which came the idea of the name for this group of poems. Much of what I wrote, when thus my life had no commerce with the outside, when I was engrossed in the contemplation of my own heart, when my imaginings wandered in many a disguise amidst causeless emotions and aimless longings, has been left out of that edition; only a few of the poems originally published in the volume entitled _Evening Songs_ finding a place there, in the _Heart-Wilderness_ group. My brother Jyotirindra and his wife had left home travelling on a long journey, and their rooms on the third storey, facing the terraced-roof, were empty. I took possession of these and the terrace, and spent my days in solitude. While thus left in communion with my self alone, I know not how I slipped out of the poetical groove into which I had fallen. Perhaps being cut off from those whom I sought to please, and whose taste in poetry moulded the form I tried to put my thoughts into, I naturally gained freedom from the style they had imposed on me. I began to use a slate for my writing. That also helped in my emancipation. The manuscript books in which I had indulged before seemed to demand a certain height of poetic flight, to work up to which I had to find my way by a comparison with others. But the slate was clearly fitted for my mood of the moment. "Fear not," it seemed to say. "Write just what you please, one rub will wipe all away!" As I wrote a poem or two, thus unfettered, I felt a great joy well up within me. "At last," said my heart, "what I write is my own!" Let no one mistake this for an accession of pride. Rather did I feel a pride in my former productions, as being all the tribute I had to pay them. But I refuse to call the realisation of self, self-sufficiency. The joy of parents in their first-born is not due to any pride in its appearance, but because it is their very own. If it happens to be an extraordinary child they may also glory in that--but that is different. In the first flood-tide of that joy I paid no heed to the bounds of metrical form, and as the stream does not flow straight on but winds about as it lists, so did my verse. Before, I would have held this to be a crime, but now I felt no compunction. Freedom first breaks the law and then makes laws which brings it under true Self-rule. The only listener I had for these erratic poems of mine was Akshay Babu. When he heard them for the first time he was as surprised as he was pleased, and with his approbation my road to freedom was widened. The poems of Vihari Chakravarti were in a 3-beat metre. This triple time produces a rounded-off globular effect, unlike the square-cut multiple of 2. It rolls on with ease, it glides as it dances to the tinkling of its anklets. I was once very fond of this metre. It felt more like riding a bicycle than walking. And to this stride I had got accustomed. In the _Evening Songs_, without thinking of it, I somehow broke off this habit. Nor did I come under any other particular bondage. I felt entirely free and unconcerned. I had no thought or fear of being taken to task. The strength I gained by working, freed from the trammels of tradition, led me to discover that I had been searching in impossible places for that which I had within myself. Nothing but want of self-confidence had stood in the way of my coming into my own. I felt like rising from a dream of bondage to find myself unshackled. I cut extraordinary capers just to make sure I was free to move. To me this is the most memorable period of my poetic career. As poems my _Evening Songs_ may not have been worth much, in fact as such they are crude enough. Neither their metre, nor language, nor thought had taken definite shape. Their only merit is that for the first time I had come to write what I really meant, just according to my pleasure. What if those compositions have no value, that pleasure certainly had. (31) _An Essay on Music_ I had been proposing to study for the bar when my father had recalled me home from England. Some friends concerned at this cutting short of my career pressed him to send me off once again. This led to my starting on a second voyage towards England, this time with a relative as my companion. My fate, however, had so strongly vetoed my being called to the bar that I was not even to reach England this time. For a certain reason we had to disembark at Madras and return home to Calcutta. The reason was by no means as grave as its outcome, but as the laugh was not against _me_, I refrain from setting it down here. From both my attempted pilgrimages to _Lakshmi's_[48] shrine I had thus to come back repulsed. I hope, however, that the Law-god, at least, will look on me with a favourable eye for that I have not added to the encumbrances on the Bar-library premises. My father was then in the Mussoorie hills. I went to him in fear and trembling. But he showed no sign of irritation, he rather seemed pleased. He must have seen in this return of mine the blessing of Divine Providence. The evening before I started on this voyage I read a paper at the Medical College Hall on the invitation of the Bethune Society. This was my first public reading. The Reverend K. M. Banerji was the president. The subject was Music. Leaving aside instrumental music, I tried to make out that to bring out better what the words sought to express was the chief end and aim of vocal music. The text of my paper was but meagre. I sang and acted songs throughout illustrating my theme. The only reason for the flattering eulogy which the President bestowed on me at the end must have been the moving effect of my young voice together with the earnestness and variety of its efforts. But I must make the confession to-day that the opinion I voiced with such enthusiasm that evening was wrong. The art of vocal music has its own special functions and features. And when it happens to be set to words the latter must not presume too much on their opportunity and seek to supersede the melody of which they are but the vehicle. The song being great in its own wealth, why should it wait upon the words? Rather does it begin where mere words fail. Its power lies in the region of the inexpressible; it tells us what the words cannot. So the less a song is burdened with words the better. In the classic style of Hindustan[49] the words are of no account and leave the melody to make its appeal in its own way. Vocal music reaches its perfection when the melodic form is allowed to develop freely, and carry our consciousness with it to its own wonderful plane. In Bengal, however, the words have always asserted themselves so, that our provincial song has failed to develop her full musical capabilities, and has remained content as the handmaiden of her sister art of poetry. From the old _Vaishnava_ songs down to those of Nidhu Babu she has displayed her charms from the background. But as in our country the wife rules her husband through acknowledging her dependence, so our music, though professedly in attendance only, ends by dominating the song. I have often felt this while composing my songs. As I hummed to myself and wrote the lines: Do not keep your secret to yourself, my love, But whisper it gently to me, only to me. I found that the words had no means of reaching by themselves the region into which they were borne away by the tune. The melody told me that the secret, which I was so importunate to hear, had mingled with the green mystery of the forest glades, was steeped in the silent whiteness of moonlight nights, peeped out of the veil of the illimitable blue behind the horizon--and is the one intimate secret of Earth, Sky and Waters. In my early boyhood I heard a snatch of a song: Who dressed you, love, as a foreigner? This one line painted such wonderful pictures in my mind that it haunts me still. One day I sat down to set to words a composition of my own while full of this bit of song. Humming my tune I wrote to its accompaniment: I know you, O Woman from the strange land! Your dwelling is across the Sea. Had the tune not been there I know not what shape the rest of the poem might have taken; but the magic of the melody revealed to me the stranger in all her loveliness. It is she, said my soul, who comes and goes, a messenger to this world from the other shore of the ocean of mystery. It is she, of whom we now and again catch glimpses in the dewy Autumn mornings, in the scented nights of Spring, in the inmost recesses of our hearts--and sometimes we strain skywards to hear her song. To the door of this world-charming stranger the melody, as I say, wafted me, and so to her were the rest of the words addressed. Long after this, in a street in Bolpur, a mendicant _Baul_ was singing as he walked along: How does the unknown bird flit in and out of the cage! Ah, could I but catch it, I'd ring its feet with my love! I found this _Baul_ to be saying the very same thing. The unknown bird sometimes surrenders itself within the bars of the cage to whisper tidings of the bondless unknown beyond. The heart would fain hold it near to itself for ever, but cannot. What but the melody of song can tell us of the goings and comings of the unknown bird? That is why I am always reluctant to publish books of the words of songs, for therein the soul must needs be lacking. (32) _The River-side_ When I returned home from the outset of my second voyage to England, my brother Jyotirindra and sister-in-law were living in a river-side villa at Chandernagore, and there I went to stay with them. The Ganges again! Again those ineffable days and nights, languid with joy, sad with longing, attuned to the plaintive babbling of the river along the cool shade of its wooded banks. This Bengal sky-full of light, this south breeze, this flow of the river, this right royal laziness, this broad leisure stretching from horizon to horizon and from green earth to blue sky, all these were to me as food and drink to the hungry and thirsty. Here it felt indeed like home, and in these I recognised the ministrations of a Mother. That was not so very long ago, and yet time has wrought many changes. Our little river-side nests, clustering under their surrounding greenery, have been replaced by mills which now, dragon-like, everywhere rear their hissing heads, belching forth black smoke. In the midday glare of modern life even our hours of mental siesta have been narrowed down to the lowest limit, and hydra-headed unrest has invaded every department of life. Maybe, this is for the better, but I, for one, cannot account it wholly to the good. [Illustration: The Ganges Again] These lovely days of mine at the riverside passed by like so many dedicated lotus blossoms floating down the sacred stream. Some rainy afternoons I spent in a veritable frenzy, singing away old _Vaishnava_ songs to my own tunes, accompanying myself on a harmonium. On other afternoons, we would drift along in a boat, my brother Jyotirindra accompanying my singing with his violin. And as, beginning with the _Puravi_,[50] we went on varying the mode of our music with the declining day, we saw, on reaching the _Behaga_,[50] the western sky close the doors of its factory of golden toys, and the moon on the east rise over the fringe of trees. Then we would row back to the landing steps of the villa and seat ourselves on a quilt spread on the terrace facing the river. By then a silvery peace rested on both land and water, hardly any boats were about, the fringe of trees on the bank was reduced to a deep shadow, and the moonlight glimmered over the smooth flowing stream. The villa we were living in was known as 'Moran's Garden'. A flight of stone-flagged steps led up from the water to a long, broad verandah which formed part of the house. The rooms were not regularly arranged, nor all on the same level, and some had to be reached by short flights of stairs. The big sitting room overlooking the landing steps had stained glass windows with coloured pictures. One of the pictures was of a swing hanging from a branch half-hidden in dense foliage, and in the checkered light and shade of this bower, two persons were swinging; and there was another of a broad flight of steps leading into some castle-like palace, up and down which men and women in festive garb were going and coming. When the light fell on the windows, these pictures shone wonderfully, seeming to fill the river-side atmosphere with holiday music. Some far-away long-forgotten revelry seemed to be expressing itself in silent words of light; the love thrills of the swinging couple making alive with their eternal story the woodlands of the river bank. The topmost room of the house was in a round tower with windows opening to every side. This I used as my room for writing poetry. Nothing could be seen from thence save the tops of the surrounding trees, and the open sky. I was then busy with the _Evening Songs_ and of this room I wrote: There, where in the breast of limitless space clouds are laid to sleep, I have built my house for thee, O Poesy! (33) _More About the Evening Songs_ At this time my reputation amongst literary critics was that of being a poet of broken cadence and lisping utterance. Everything about my work was dubbed misty, shadowy. However little I might have relished this at the time, the charge was not wholly baseless. My poetry did in fact lack the backbone of worldly reality. How, amidst the ringed-in seclusion of my early years, was I to get the necessary material? But one thing I refuse to admit. Behind this charge of vagueness was the sting of the insinuation of its being a deliberate affectation--for the sake of effect. The fortunate possessor of good eye-sight is apt to sneer at the youth with glasses, as if he wears them for ornament. While a reflection on the poor fellow's infirmity may be permissible, it is too bad to charge him with pretending not to see. The nebula is not an outside creation--it merely represents a phase; and to leave out all poetry which has not attained definiteness would not bring us to the truth of literature. If any phase of man's nature has found true expression, it is worth preserving--it may be cast aside only if not expressed truly. There is a period in man's life when his feelings are the pathos of the inexpressible, the anguish of vagueness. The poetry which attempts its expression cannot be called baseless--at worst it may be worthless; but it is not necessarily even that. The sin is not in the thing expressed, but in the failure to express it. There is a duality in man. Of the inner person, behind the outward current of thoughts, feelings and events, but little is known or recked; but for all that, he cannot be got rid of as a factor in life's progress. When the outward life fails to harmonise with the inner, the dweller within is hurt, and his pain manifests itself in the outer consciousness in a manner to which it is difficult to give a name, or even to describe, and of which the cry is more akin to an inarticulate wail than words with more precise meaning. The sadness and pain which sought expression in the _Evening Songs_ had their roots in the depths of my being. As one's sleep-smothered consciousness wrestles with a nightmare in its efforts to awake, so the submerged inner self struggles to free itself from its complexities and come out into the open. These _Songs_ are the history of that struggle. As in all creation, so in poetry, there is the opposition of forces. If the divergence is too wide, or the unison too close, there is, it seems to me, no room for poetry. Where the pain of discord strives to attain and express its resolution into harmony, there does poetry break forth into music, as breath through a flute. When the _Evening Songs_ first saw the light they were not hailed with any flourish of trumpets, but none the less they did not lack admirers. I have elsewhere told the story of how at the wedding of Mr. Ramesh Chandra Dutt's eldest daughter, Bankim Babu was at the door, and the host was welcoming him with the customary garland of flowers. As I came up Bankim Babu eagerly took the garland and placing it round my neck said: "The wreath to him, Ramesh, have you not read his _Evening Songs_?" And when Mr. Dutt avowed he had not yet done so, the manner in which Bankim Babu expressed his opinion of some of them amply rewarded me. The _Evening Songs_ gained for me a friend whose approval, like the rays of the sun, stimulated and guided the shoots of my newly sprung efforts. This was Babu Priyanath Sen. Just before this the _Broken Heart_ had led him to give up all hopes of me. I won him back with these _Evening Songs_. Those who are acquainted with him know him as an expert navigator of all the seven seas[51] of literature, whose highways and byways, in almost all languages, Indian and foreign, he is constantly traversing. To converse with him is to gain glimpses of even the most out of the way scenery in the world of ideas. This proved of the greatest value to me. He was able to give his literary opinions with the fullest confidence, for he had not to rely on his unaided taste to guide his likes and dislikes. This authoritative criticism of his also assisted me more than I can tell. I used to read to him everything I wrote, and but for the timely showers of his discriminate appreciation it is hard to say whether these early ploughings of mine would have yielded as they have done. (34) _Morning Songs_ At the river-side I also did a bit of prose writing, not on any definite subject or plan, but in the spirit that boys catch butterflies. When spring comes within, many-coloured short-lived fancies are born and flit about in the mind, ordinarily unnoticed. In these days of my leisure, it was perhaps the mere whim to collect them which had come upon me. Or it may have been only another phase of my emancipated self which had thrown out its chest and decided to write just as it pleased; what I wrote not being the object, it being sufficient unto itself that it was I who wrote. These prose pieces were published later under the name of _Vividha Prabandha_, Various Topics, but they expired with the first edition and did not get a fresh lease of life in a second. At this time, I think, I also began my first novel, _Bauthakuranir Hat_. After we had stayed for a time by the river, my brother Jyotirindra took a house in Calcutta, on Sudder Street near the Museum. I remained with him. While I went on here with the novel and the _Evening Songs_, a momentous revolution of some kind came about within me. One day, late in the afternoon, I was pacing the terrace of our Jorasanko house. The glow of the sunset combined with the wan twilight in a way which seemed to give the approaching evening a specially wonderful attractiveness for me. Even the walls of the adjoining house seemed to grow beautiful. Is this uplifting of the cover of triviality from the everyday world, I wondered, due to some magic in the evening light? Never! I could see at once that it was the effect of the evening which had come within me; its shades had obliterated my _self_. While the self was rampant during the glare of day, everything I perceived was mingled with and hidden by it. Now, that the self was put into the background, I could see the world in its own true aspect. And that aspect has nothing of triviality in it, it is full of beauty and joy. Since this experience I tried the effect of deliberately suppressing my _self_ and viewing the world as a mere spectator, and was invariably rewarded with a sense of special pleasure. I remember I tried also to explain to a relative how to see the world in its true light, and the incidental lightening of one's own sense of burden which follows such vision; but, as I believe, with no success. Then I gained a further insight which has lasted all my life. The end of Sudder Street, and the trees on the Free School grounds opposite, were visible from our Sudder Street house. One morning I happened to be standing on the verandah looking that way. The sun was just rising through the leafy tops of those trees. As I continued to gaze, all of a sudden a covering seemed to fall away from my eyes, and I found the world bathed in a wonderful radiance, with waves of beauty and joy swelling on every side. This radiance pierced in a moment through the folds of sadness and despondency which had accumulated over my heart, and flooded it with this universal light. That very day the poem, _The Awakening of the Waterfall_, gushed forth and coursed on like a veritable cascade. The poem came to an end, but the curtain did not fall upon the joy aspect of the Universe. And it came to be so that no person or thing in the world seemed to me trivial or unpleasing. A thing that happened the next day or the day following seemed specially astonishing. There was a curious sort of person who came to me now and then, with a habit of asking all manner of silly questions. One day he had asked: "Have you, sir, seen God with your own eyes?" And on my having to admit that I had not, he averred that he had. "What was it you saw?" I asked. "He seethed and throbbed before my eyes!" was the reply. It can well be imagined that one would not ordinarily relish being drawn into abstruse discussions with such a person. Moreover, I was at the time entirely absorbed in my own writing. Nevertheless as he was a harmless sort of fellow I did not like the idea of hurting his susceptibilities and so tolerated him as best I could. This time, when he came one afternoon, I actually felt glad to see him, and welcomed him cordially. The mantle of his oddity and foolishness seemed to have slipped off, and the person I so joyfully hailed was the real man whom I felt to be in nowise inferior to myself, and moreover closely related. Finding no trace of annoyance within me at sight of him, nor any sense of my time being wasted with him, I was filled with an immense gladness, and felt rid of some enveloping tissue of untruth which had been causing me so much needless and uncalled for discomfort and pain. As I would stand on the balcony, the gait, the figure, the features of each one of the passers-by, whoever they might be, seemed to me all so extraordinarily wonderful, as they flowed past,--waves on the sea of the universe. From infancy I had seen only with my eyes, I now began to see with the whole of my consciousness. I could not look upon the sight of two smiling youths, nonchalantly going their way, the arm of one on the other's shoulder, as a matter of small moment; for, through it I could see the fathomless depths of the eternal spring of Joy from which numberless sprays of laughter leap up throughout the world. I had never before marked the play of limbs and lineaments which always accompanies even the least of man's actions; now I was spell-bound by their variety, which I came across on all sides, at every moment. Yet I saw them not as being apart by themselves, but as parts of that amazingly beautiful greater dance which goes on at this very moment throughout the world of men, in each of their homes, in their multifarious wants and activities. Friend laughs with friend, the mother fondles her child, one cow sidles up to another and licks its body, and the immeasurability behind these comes direct to my mind with a shock which almost savours of pain. When of this period I wrote: I know not how of a sudden my heart flung open its doors, And let the crowd of worlds rush in, greeting each other,-- it was no poetic exaggeration. Rather I had not the power to express all I felt. For some time together I remained in this self-forgetful state of bliss. Then my brother thought of going to the Darjeeling hills. So much the better, thought I. On the vast Himalayan tops I shall be able to see more deeply into what has been revealed to me in Sudder Street; at any rate I shall see how the Himalayas display themselves to my new gift of vision. But the victory was with that little house in Sudder Street. When, after ascending the mountains, I looked around, I was at once aware I had lost my new vision. My sin must have been in imagining that I could get still more of truth from the outside. However sky-piercing the king of mountains may be, he can have nothing in his gift for me; while He who is the Giver can vouchsafe a vision of the eternal universe in the dingiest of lanes, and in a moment of time. I wandered about amongst the firs, I sat near the falls and bathed in their waters, I gazed at the grandeur of Kinchinjunga through a cloudless sky, but in what had seemed to me these likeliest of places, I found _it_ not. I had come to know it, but could see it no longer. While I was admiring the gem the lid had suddenly closed, leaving me staring at the enclosing casket. But, for all the attractiveness of its workmanship, there was no longer any danger of my mistaking it for merely an empty box. My _Morning Songs_ came to an end, their last echo dying out with _The Echo_ which I wrote at Darjeeling. This apparently proved such an abstruse affair that two friends laid a wager as to its real meaning. My only consolation was that, as I was equally unable to explain the enigma to them when they came to me for a solution, neither of them had to lose any money over it. Alas! The days when I wrote excessively plain poems about _The Lotus_ and _A Lake_ had gone forever. But does one write poetry to explain any matter? What is felt within the heart tries to find outside shape as a poem. So when after listening to a poem anyone says he has not understood, I feel nonplussed. If someone smells a flower and says he does not understand, the reply to him is: there is nothing to understand, it is only a scent. If he persists, saying: _that_ I know, but what does it all _mean_? Then one has either to change the subject, or make it more abstruse by saying that the scent is the shape which the universal joy takes in the flower. That words have meanings is just the difficulty. That is why the poet has to turn and twist them in metre and verse, so that the meaning may be held somewhat in check, and the feeling allowed a chance to express itself. This utterance of feeling is not the statement of a fundamental truth, or a scientific fact, or a useful moral precept. Like a tear or a smile it is but a picture of what is taking place within. If Science or Philosophy may gain anything from it they are welcome, but that is not the reason of its being. If while crossing a ferry you can catch a fish you are a lucky man, but that does not make the ferry boat a fishing boat, nor should you abuse the ferryman if he does not make fishing his business. _The Echo_ was written so long ago that it has escaped attention and I am now no longer called upon to render an account of its meaning. Nevertheless, whatever its other merits or defects may be, I can assure my readers that it was not my intention to propound a riddle, or insidiously convey any erudite teaching. The fact of the matter was that a longing had been born within my heart, and, unable to find any other name, I had called the thing I desired an Echo. When from the original fount in the depths of the Universe streams of melody are sent forth abroad, their echo is reflected into our heart from the faces of our beloved and the other beauteous things around us. It must be, as I suggested, this Echo which we love, and not the things themselves from which it happens to be reflected; for that which one day we scarce deign to glance at, may be, on another, the very thing which claims our whole devotion. I had so long viewed the world with external vision only, and so had been unable to see its universal aspect of joy. When of a sudden, from some innermost depth of my being, a ray of light found its way out, it spread over and illuminated for me the whole universe, which then no longer appeared like heaps of things and happenings, but was disclosed to my sight as one whole. This experience seemed to tell me of the stream of melody issuing from the very heart of the universe and spreading over space and time, re-echoing thence as waves of joy which flow right back to the source. When the artist sends his song forth from the depths of a full heart that is joy indeed. And the joy is redoubled when this same song is wafted back to him as hearer. If, when the creation of the Arch-Poet is thus returning back to him in a flood of joy, we allow it to flow over our consciousness, we at once, immediately, become aware, in an inexpressible manner, of the end to which this flood is streaming. And as we become aware our love goes forth; and our _selves_ are moved from their moorings and would fain float down the stream of joy to its infinite goal. This is the meaning of the longing which stirs within us at the sight of Beauty. The stream which comes from the Infinite and flows toward the finite--that is the True, the Good; it is subject to laws, definite in form. Its echo which returns towards the Infinite is Beauty and Joy; which are difficult to touch or grasp, and so make us beside ourselves. This is what I tried to say by way of a parable or a song in _The Echo_. That the result was not clear is not to be wondered at, for neither was the attempt then clear unto itself. Let me set down here part of what I wrote in a letter, at a more advanced age, about the _Morning Songs_. "There is none in the World, all are in my heart"--is a state of mind belonging to a particular age. When the heart is first awakened it puts forth its arms and would grasp the whole world, like the teething infant which thinks everything meant for its mouth. Gradually it comes to understand what it really wants and what it does not. Then do its nebulous emanations shrink upon themselves, get heated, and heat in their turn. To begin by wanting the whole world is to get nothing. When desire is concentrated, with the whole strength of one's being upon any one object whatsoever it might be, then does the gateway to the Infinite become visible. The morning songs were the first throwing forth of my inner self outwards, and consequently they lack any signs of such concentration. This all-pervading joy of a first outflow, however, has the effect of leading us to an acquaintance with the particular. The lake in its fulness seeks an outlet as a river. In this sense the permanent later love is narrower than first love. It is more definite in the direction of its activities, desires to realise the whole in each of its parts, and is thus impelled on towards the infinite. What it finally reaches is no longer the former indefinite extension of the heart's own inner joy, but a merging in the infinite reality which was outside itself, and thereby the attainment of the complete truth of its own longings. In Mohita Babu's edition these _Morning Songs_ have been placed in the group of poems entitled _Nishkraman_, The Emergence. For in these was to be found the first news of my coming out of the _Heart Wilderness_ into the open world. Thereafter did this pilgrim heart make its acquaintance with that world, bit by bit, part by part, in many a mood and manner. And at the end, after gliding past all the numerous landing steps of ever-changing impermanence, it will reach the infinite,--not the vagueness of indeterminate possibility, but the consummation of perfect fulness of Truth. From my earliest years I enjoyed a simple and intimate communion with Nature. Each one of the cocoanut trees in our garden had for me a distinct personality. When, on coming home from the Normal School, I saw behind the skyline of our roof-terrace blue-grey water-laden clouds thickly banked up, the immense depth of gladness which filled me, all in a moment, I can recall clearly even now. On opening my eyes every morning, the blithely awakening world used to call me to join it like a playmate; the perfervid noonday sky, during the long silent watches of the siesta hours, would spirit me away from the work-a-day world into the recesses of its hermit cell; and the darkness of night would open the door to its phantom paths, and take me over all the seven seas and thirteen rivers, past all possibilities and impossibilities, right into its wonder-land. Then one day, when, with the dawn of youth, my hungry heart began to cry out for its sustenance, a barrier was set up between this play of inside and outside. And my whole being eddied round and round my troubled heart, creating a vortex within itself, in the whirls of which its consciousness was confined. This loss of the harmony between inside and outside, due to the over-riding claims of the heart in its hunger, and consequent restriction of the privilege of communion which had been mine, was mourned by me in the _Evening Songs_. In the _Morning Songs_ I celebrated the sudden opening of a gate in the barrier, by what shock I know not, through which I regained the lost one, not only as I knew it before, but more deeply, more fully, by force of the intervening separation. Thus did the First Book of my life come to an end with these chapters of union, separation and reunion. Or, rather, it is not true to say it has come to an end. The same subject has still to be continued through more elaborate solutions of worse complexities, to a greater conclusion. Each one comes here to finish but one book of life, which, during the progress of its various parts, grows spiral-wise on an ever-increasing radius. So, while each segment may appear different from the others at a cursory glance, they all really lead back to the self-same starting centre. The prose writings of the _Evening Songs_ period were published, as I have said, under the name of _Vividha Prabandha_. Those others which correspond to the time of my writing the _Morning Songs_ came out under the title of _Alochana_, Discussions. The difference between the characteristics of these two would be a good index of the nature of the change that had in the meantime taken place within me. PART VII (35) _Rajendrahal Mitra_ It was about this time that my brother Jyotirindra had the idea of founding a Literary Academy by bringing together all the men of letters of repute. To compile authoritative technical terms for the Bengali language and in other ways to assist in its growth was to be its object--therein differing but little from the lines on which the modern _Sahitya Parishat_, Academy of Literature, has taken shape. Dr. Rajendrahal Mitra took up the idea of this Academy with enthusiasm, and he was eventually its president for the short time it lasted. When I went to invite Pandit Vidyasagar to join it, he gave a hearing to my explanation of its objects and the names of the proposed members, then said: "My advice to you is to leave us out--you will never accomplish anything with big wigs; they can never be got to agree with one another." With which he refused to come in. Bankim Babu became a member, but I cannot say that he took much interest in the work. To be plain, so long as this academy lived Rajendrahal Mitra did everything single-handed. He began with Geographical terms. The draft list was made out by Dr. Rajendrahal himself and was printed and circulated for the suggestions of the members. We had also an idea of transliterating in Bengali the name of each foreign country as pronounced by itself. Pandit Vidyasagar's prophecy was fulfilled. It did not prove possible to get the big wigs to do anything. And the academy withered away shortly after sprouting. But Rajendrahal Mitra was an all-round expert and was an academy in himself. My labours in this cause were more than repaid by the privilege of his acquaintance. I have met many Bengali men of letters in my time but none who left the impression of such brilliance. I used to go and see him in the office of the Court of Wards in Maniktala. I would go in the mornings and always find him busy with his studies, and with the inconsiderateness of youth, I felt no hesitation in disturbing him. But I have never seen him the least bit put out on that account. As soon as he saw me he would put aside his work and begin to talk to me. It is a matter of common knowledge that he was somewhat hard of hearing, so he hardly ever gave me occasion to put him any question. He would take up some broad subject and talk away upon it, and it was the attraction of these discourses which drew me there. Converse with no other person ever gave me such a wealth of suggestive ideas on so many different subjects. I would listen enraptured. I think he was a member of the text-book committee and every book he received for approval, he read through and annotated in pencil. On some occasions he would select one of these books for the text of discourses on the construction of the Bengali language in particular or Philology in general, which were of the greatest benefit to me. There were few subjects which he had not studied and anything he had studied he could clearly expound. If we had not relied on the other members of the Academy we had tried to found, but left everything to Dr. Rajendrahal, the present _Sahitya Parishat_ would have doubtless found the matters it is now occupied with left in a much more advanced state by that one man alone. Dr. Rajendrahal Mitra was not only a profound scholar, but he had likewise a striking personality which shone through his features. Full of fire as he was in his public life, he could also unbend graciously so as to talk on the most difficult subjects to a stripling like myself without any trace of a patronising tone. I even took advantage of his condescension to the extent of getting a contribution, _Yama's Dog_, from him for the Bharabi. There were other great contemporaries of his with whom I would not have ventured to take such liberties, nor would I have met with the like response if I had. And yet when he was on the war path his opponents on the Municipal Corporation or the Senate of the University were mortally afraid of him. In those days Kristo Das Pal was the tactful politician, and Rajendrahal Mitra the valiant fighter. For the purposes of the Asiatic Society's publications and researches, he had to employ a number of Sanscrit Pandits to do the mechanical work for him. I remember how this gave certain envious and mean-minded detractors the opportunity of saying that everything was really done by these Pandits while Rajendrahal fraudulently appropriated all the credit. Even to-day we very often find the tools arrogating to themselves the lion's share of the achievement, imagining the wielder to be a mere ornamental figurehead. If the poor pen had a mind it would as certainly have bemoaned the unfairness of its getting all the stain and the writer all the glory! It is curious that this extraordinary man should have got no recognition from his countrymen even after his death. One of the reasons may be that the national mourning for Vidyasagar, whose death followed shortly after, left no room for a recognition of the other bereavement. Another reason may be that his main contributions being outside the pale of Bengali literature, he had been unable to reach the heart of the people. (36) _Karwar_ Our Sudder Street party next transferred itself to Karwar on the West Sea coast. Karwar is the headquarters of the Kanara district in the Southern portion of the Bombay Presidency. It is the tract of the Malaya Hills of Sanskrit literature where grow the cardamum creeper and the Sandal Tree. My second brother was then Judge there. The little harbour, ringed round with hills, is so secluded that it has nothing of the aspect of a port about it. Its crescent shaped beach throws out its arms to the shoreless open sea like the very image of an eager striving to embrace the infinite. The edge of the broad sandy beach is fringed with a forest of casuarinas, broken at one end by the _Kalanadi_ river which here flows into the sea after passing through a gorge flanked by rows of hills on either side. I remember how one moonlit evening we went up this river in a little boat. We stopped at one of Shivaji's old hill forts, and stepping ashore found our way into the clean-swept little yard of a peasant's home. We sat on a spot where the moonbeams fell glancing off the top of the outer enclosure, and there dined off the eatables we had brought with us. On our way back we let the boat glide down the river. The night brooded over the motionless hills and forests, and on the silent flowing stream of this little _Kalanadi_, throwing over all its moonlight spell. It took us a good long time to reach the mouth of the river, so, instead of returning by sea, we got off the boat there and walked back home over the sands of the beach. It was then far into the night, the sea was without a ripple, even the ever-troubled murmur of the casuarinas was at rest. The shadow of the fringe of trees along the vast expanse of sand hung motionless along its border, and the ring of blue-grey hills around the horizon slept calmly beneath the sky. [Illustration: Karwar Beach] Through the deep silence of this illimitable whiteness we few human creatures walked along with our shadows, without a word. When we reached home my sleep had lost itself in something still deeper. The poem which I then wrote is inextricably mingled with that night on the distant seashore. I do not know how it will appeal to the reader apart from the memories with which it is entwined. This doubt led to its being left out of Mohita Babu's edition of my works. I trust that a place given to it among my reminiscences may not be deemed unfitting. Let me sink down, losing myself in the depths of midnight. Let the Earth leave her hold of me, let her free me from her obstacle of dust. Keep your watch from afar, O stars, drunk though you be with moonlight, And let the horizon hold its wings still around me. Let there be no song, no word, no sound, no touch; nor sleep, nor awakening,-- But only the moonlight like a swoon of ecstasy over the sky and my being. The world seems to me like a ship with its countless pilgrims, Vanishing in the far-away blue of the sky, Its sailors' song becoming fainter and fainter in the air, While I sink in the bosom of the endless night, fading away from myself, dwindling into a point. It is necessary to remark here that merely because something has been written when feelings are brimming over, it is not therefore necessarily good. Such is rather a time when the utterance is thick with emotion. Just as it does not do to have the writer entirely removed from the feeling to which he is giving expression, so also it does not conduce to the truest poetry to have him too close to it. Memory is the brush which can best lay on the true poetic colour. Nearness has too much of the compelling about it and the imagination is not sufficiently free unless it can get away from its influence. Not only in poetry, but in all art, the mind of the artist must attain a certain degree of aloofness--the _creator_ within man must be allowed the sole control. If the subject matter gets the better of the creation, the result is a mere replica of the event, not a reflection of it through the Artist's mind. (37) _Nature's Revenge_ Here in Karwar I wrote the _Prakritir Pratishodha_, Nature's Revenge, a dramatic poem. The hero was a Sanyasi (hermit) who had been striving to gain a victory over Nature by cutting away the bonds of all desires and affections and thus to arrive at a true and profound knowledge of self. A little girl, however, brought him back from his communion with the infinite to the world and into the bondage of human affection. On so coming back the _Sanyasi_ realised that the great is to be found in the small, the infinite within the bounds of form, and the eternal freedom of the soul in love. It is only in the light of love that all limits are merged in the limitless. The sea beach of Karwar is certainly a fit place in which to realise that the beauty of Nature is not a mirage of the imagination, but reflects the joy of the Infinite and thus draws us to lose ourselves in it. Where the universe is expressing itself in the magic of its laws it may not be strange if we miss its infinitude; but where the heart gets into immediate touch with immensity in the beauty of the meanest of things, is any room left for argument? Nature took the _Sanyasi_ to the presence of the Infinite, enthroned on the finite, by the pathway of the heart. In the _Nature's Revenge_ there were shown on the one side the wayfarers and the villagers, content with their home-made triviality and unconscious of anything beyond; and on the other the _Sanyasi_ busy casting away his all, and himself, into the self-evolved infinite of his imagination. When love bridged the gulf between the two, and the hermit and the householder met, the seeming triviality of the finite and the seeming emptiness of the infinite alike disappeared. This was to put in a slightly different form the story of my own experience, of the entrancing ray of light which found its way into the depths of the cave into which I had retired away from all touch with the outer world, and made me more fully one with Nature again. This _Nature's Revenge_ may be looked upon as an introduction to the whole of my future literary work; or, rather this has been the subject on which all my writings have dwelt--the joy of attaining the Infinite within the finite. On our way back from Karwar I wrote some songs for the _Nature's Revenge_ on board ship. The first one filled me with a great gladness as I sang, and wrote it sitting on the deck: Mother, leave your darling boy to us, And let us take him to the field where we graze our cattle.[52] The sun has risen, the buds have opened, the cowherd boys are going to the pasture; and they would not have the sunlight, the flowers, and their play in the grazing grounds empty. They want their _Shyam_ (Krishna) to be with them there, in the midst of all these. They want to see the Infinite in all its carefully adorned loveliness; they have turned out so early because they want to join in its gladsome play, in the midst of these woods and fields and hills and dales--not to admire from a distance, nor in the majesty of power. Their equipment is of the slightest. A simple yellow garment and a garland of wild-flowers are all the ornaments they require. For where joy reigns on every side, to hunt for it arduously, or amidst pomp and circumstances, is to lose it. Shortly after my return from Karwar, I was married. I was then 22 years of age. (38) _Pictures and Songs_ _Chhabi o Gan_, Picture and Songs, was the title of a book of poems most of which were written at this time. We were then living in a house with a garden in Lower Circular Road. Adjoining it on the south was a large _Busti_.[53] I would often sit near a window and watch the sights of this populous little settlement. I loved to see them at their work and play and rest, and in their multifarious goings and comings. To me it was all like a living story. A faculty of many-sightedness possessed me at this time. Each little separate picture I ringed round with the light of my imagination and the joy of my heart; every one of them, moreover, being variously coloured by a pathos of its own. The pleasure of thus separately marking off each picture was much the same as that of painting it, both being the outcome of the desire to see with the mind what the eye sees, and with the eye what the mind imagines. Had I been a painter with the brush I would doubtless have tried to keep a permanent record of the visions and creations of that period when my mind was so alertly responsive. But that instrument was not available to me. What I had was only words and rhythms, and even with these I had not yet learnt to draw firm strokes, and the colours went beyond their margins. Still, like young folk with their first paint box, I spent the livelong day painting away with the many coloured fancies of my new-born youth. If these pictures are now viewed in the light of that twenty-second year of my life, some features may be discerned even through their crude drawing and blurred colouring. I have said that the first book of my literary life came to an end with the _Morning Songs_. The same subject was then continued under a different rendering. Many a page at the outset of this Book, I am sure, is of no value. In the process of making a new beginning much in the way of superfluous preliminary has to be gone through. Had these been leaves of trees they would have duly dropped off. Unfortunately, leaves of books continue to stick fast even when they are no longer wanted. The feature of these poems was the closeness of attention devoted even to trifling things. _Pictures and Songs_ seized every opportunity of giving value to these by colouring them with feelings straight from the heart. Or, rather, that was not it. When the string of the mind is properly attuned to the universe then at each point the universal song can awaken its sympathetic vibrations. It was because of this music roused within that nothing then felt trivial to the writer. Whatever my eyes fell upon found a response within me. Like children who can play with sand or stones or shells or whatever they can get (for the spirit of play is within them), so also we, when filled with the song of youth, become aware that the harp of the universe has its variously tuned strings everywhere stretched, and the nearest may serve as well as any other for our accompaniment, there is no need to seek afar. (39) _An Intervening Period_ Between the _Pictures and Songs_ and the _Sharps and Flats_, a child's magazine called the _Balaka_ sprang up and ended its brief days like an annual plant. My second sister-in-law felt the want of an illustrated magazine for children. Her idea was that the young people of the family would contribute to it, but as she felt that that alone would not be enough, she took up the editorship herself and asked me to help with contributions. After one or two numbers of the _Balaka_ had come out I happened to go on a visit to Rajnarayan Babu at Deoghur. On the return journey the train was crowded and as there was an unshaded light just over the only berth I could get, I could not sleep. I thought I might as well take this opportunity of thinking out a story for the _Balaka_. In spite of my efforts to get hold of the story it eluded me, but sleep came to the rescue instead. I saw in a dream the stone steps of a temple stained with the blood of victims of the sacrifice;--a little girl standing there with her father asking him in piteous accents: "Father, what is this, why all this blood?" and the father, inwardly moved, trying with a show of gruffness to quiet her questioning. As I awoke I felt I had got my story. I have many more such dream-given stories and other writings as well. This dream episode I worked into the annals of King Gobinda Manikya of Tipperah and made out of it a little serial story, _Rajarshi_, for the _Balaka_. Those were days of utter freedom from care. Nothing in particular seemed to be anxious to express itself through my life or writings. I had not yet joined the throng of travellers on the path of Life, but was a mere spectator from my roadside window. Many a person hied by on many an errand as I gazed on, and every now and then Spring or Autumn, or the Rains would enter unasked and stay with me for a while. But I had not only to do with the seasons. There were men of all kinds of curious types who, floating about like boats adrift from their anchorage, occasionally invaded my little room. Some of them sought to further their own ends, at the cost of my inexperience, with many an extraordinary device. But they need not have taken any extraordinary pains to get the better of me. I was then entirely unsophisticated, my own wants were few, and I was not at all clever in distinguishing between good and bad faith. I have often gone on imagining that I was assisting with their school fees students to whom fees were as superfluous as their unread books. Once a long-haired youth brought me a letter from an imaginary sister in which she asked me to take under my protection this brother of hers who was suffering from the tyranny of a stepmother as imaginary as herself. The brother was not imaginary, that was evident enough. But his sister's letter was as unnecessary for me as expert marksmanship to bring down a bird which cannot fly. Another young fellow came and informed me that he was studying for the B.A., but could not go up for his examination as he was afflicted with some brain trouble. I felt concerned, but being far from proficient in medical science, or in any other science, I was at a loss what advice to give him. But he went on to explain that he had seen in a dream that my wife had been his mother in a former birth, and that if he could but drink some water which had touched her feet he would get cured. "Perhaps you don't believe in such things," he concluded with a smile. My belief, I said, did not matter, but if he thought he could get cured, he was welcome, with which I procured him a phial of water which was supposed to have touched my wife's feet. He felt immensely better, he said. In the natural course of evolution from water he came to solid food. Then he took up his quarters in a corner of my room and began to hold smoking parties with his friends, till I had to take refuge in flight from the smoke laden air. He gradually proved beyond doubt that his brain might have been diseased, but it certainly was not weak. After this experience it took no end of proof before I could bring myself to put my trust in children of previous births. My reputation must have spread for I next received a letter from a daughter. Here, however, I gently but firmly drew the line. All this time my friendship with Babu Srish Chandra Magundar ripened apace. Every evening he and Prija Babu would come to this little room of mine and we would discuss literature and music far into the night. Sometimes a whole day would be spent in the same way. The fact is my _self_ had not yet been moulded and nourished into a strong and definite personality and so my life drifted along as light and easy as an autumn cloud. (40) _Bankim Chandra_ This was the time when my acquaintance with Bankim Babu began. My first sight of him was a matter of long before. The old students of Calcutta University had then started an annual reunion, of which Babu Chandranath Basu was the leading spirit. Perhaps he entertained a hope that at some future time I might acquire the right to be one of them; anyhow I was asked to read a poem on the occasion. Chandranath Babu was then quite a young man. I remember he had translated some martial German poem into English which he proposed to recite himself on the day, and came to rehearse it to us full of enthusiasm. That a warrior poet's ode to his beloved sword should at one time have been his favourite poem will convince the reader that even Chandranath Babu was once young; and moreover that those times were indeed peculiar. While wandering about in the crush at the Students' reunion, I suddenly came across a figure which at once struck me as distinguished beyond that of all the others and who could not have possibly been lost in any crowd. The features of that tall fair personage shone with such a striking radiance that I could not contain my curiosity about him--he was the only one there whose name I felt concerned to know that day. When I learnt he was Bankim Babu I marvelled all the more, it seemed to me such a wonderful coincidence that his appearance should be as distinguished as his writings. His sharp aquiline nose, his compressed lips, and his keen glance all betokened immense power. With his arms folded across his breast he seemed to walk as one apart, towering above the ordinary throng--this is what struck me most about him. Not only that he looked an intellectual giant, but he had on his forehead the mark of a true prince among men. One little incident which occurred at this gathering remains indelibly impressed on my mind. In one of the rooms a Pandit was reciting some Sanskrit verses of his own composition and explaining them in Bengali to the audience. One of the allusions was not exactly coarse, but somewhat vulgar. As the Pandit was proceeding to expound this Bankim Babu, covering his face with his hands, hurried out of the room. I was near the door and can still see before me that shrinking, retreating figure. After that I often longed to see him, but could not get an opportunity. At last one day, when he was Deputy Magistrate of Hawrah, I made bold to call on him. We met, and I tried my best to make conversation. But I somehow felt greatly abashed while returning home, as if I had acted like a raw and bumptious youth in thus thrusting myself upon him unasked and unintroduced. Shortly after, as I added to my years, I attained a place as the youngest of the literary men of the time; but what was to be my position in order of merit was not even then settled. The little reputation I had acquired was mixed with plenty of doubt and not a little of condescension. It was then the fashion in Bengal to assign each man of letters a place in comparison with a supposed compeer in the West. Thus one was the Byron of Bengal, another the Emerson and so forth. I began to be styled by some the Bengal Shelley. This was insulting to Shelley and only likely to get me laughed at. My recognised cognomen was the Lisping Poet. My attainments were few, my knowledge of life meagre, and both in my poetry and my prose the sentiment exceeded the substance. So that there was nothing there on which anyone could have based his praise with any degree of confidence. My dress and behaviour were of the same anomalous description. I wore my hair long and indulged probably in an ultra-poetical refinement of manner. In a word I was eccentric and could not fit myself into everyday life like the ordinary man. At this time Babu Akshay Sarkar had started his monthly review, the _Nabajiban_, New Life, to which I used occasionally to contribute. Bankim Babu had just closed the chapter of his editorship of the _Banga Darsan_, the Mirror of Bengal, and was busy with religious discussions for which purpose he had started the monthly, _Prachar_, the Preacher. To this also I contributed a song or two and an effusive appreciation of _Vaishnava_ lyrics. From now I began constantly to meet Bankim Babu. He was then living in Bhabani Dutt's street. I used to visit him frequently, it is true, but there was not much of conversation. I was then of the age to listen, not to talk. I fervently wished we could warm up into some discussion, but my diffidence got the better of my conversational powers. Some days Sanjib Babu[54] would be there reclining on his bolster. The sight would gladden me, for he was a genial soul. He delighted in talking and it was a delight to listen to his talk. Those who have read his prose writing must have noticed how gaily and airily it flows on like the sprightliest of conversation. Very few have this gift of conversation, and fewer still the art of translating it into writing. This was the time when Pandit Sashadhar rose into prominence. Of him I first heard from Bankim Babu. If I remember right Bankim Babu was also responsible for introducing him to the public. The curious attempt made by Hindu orthodoxy to revive its prestige with the help of western science soon spread all over the country. Theosophy for some time previously had been preparing the ground for such a movement. Not that Bankim Babu even thoroughly identified himself with this cult. No shadow of Sashadhar was cast on his exposition of Hinduism as it found expression in the _Prachar_--that was impossible. I was then coming out of the seclusion of my corner as my contributions to these controversies will show. Some of these were satirical verses, some farcical plays, others letters to newspapers. I thus came down into the arena from the regions of sentiment and began to spar in right earnest. In the heat of the fight I happened to fall foul of Bankim Babu. The history of this remains recorded in the _Prachar_ and _Bharati_ of those days and need not be repeated here. At the close of this period of antagonism Bankim Babu wrote me a letter which I have unfortunately lost. Had it been here the reader could have seen with what consummate generosity Bankim Babu had taken the sting out of that unfortunate episode. PART VIII (41) _The Steamer Hulk_ Lured by an advertisement in some paper my brother Jyotirindra went off one afternoon to an auction sale, and on his return informed us that he had bought a steel hulk for seven thousand rupees; all that now remained being to put in an engine and some cabins for it to become a full-fledged steamer. My brother must have thought it a great shame that our countrymen should have their tongues and pens going, but not a single line of steamers. As I have narrated before, he had tried to light matches for his country, but no amount of rubbing availed to make them strike. He had also wanted power-looms to work, but after all his travail only one little country towel was born, and then the loom stopped. And now that he wanted Indian steamers to ply, he bought an empty old hulk, which in due course, was filled, not only with engines and cabins, but with loss and ruin as well. And yet we should remember that all the loss and hardship due to his endeavours fell on him alone, while the gain of experience remained in reserve for the whole country. It is these uncalculating, unbusinesslike spirits who keep the business-fields of the country flooded with their activities. And, though the flood subsides as rapidly as it comes, it leaves behind fertilising silt to enrich the soil. When the time for reaping arrives no one thinks of these pioneers; but those who have cheerfully staked and lost their all, during life, are not likely, after death, to mind this further loss of being forgotten. On one side was the European Flotilla Company, on the other my brother Jyotirindra alone; and how tremendous waxed that battle of the mercantile fleets, the people of Khulna and Barisal may still remember. Under the stress of competition steamer was added to steamer, loss piled on loss, while the income dwindled till it ceased to be worth while to print tickets. The golden age dawned on the steamer service between Khulna and Barisal. Not only were the passengers carried free of charge, but they were offered light refreshments _gratis_ as well! Then was formed a band of volunteers who, with flags and patriotic songs, marched the passengers in procession to the Indian line of steamers. So while there was no want of passengers to carry, every other kind of want began to multiply apace. [Illustration: My Brother Jyotirindra] Arithmetic remained uninfluenced by patriotic fervour; and while enthusiasm flamed higher and higher to the tune of patriotic songs, three times three went on steadily making nine on the wrong side of the balance sheet. One of the misfortunes which always pursues the unbusinesslike is that, while they are as easy to read as an open book, they never learn to read the character of others. And since it takes them the whole of their lifetime and all their resources to find out this weakness of theirs, they never get the chance of profiting by experience. While the passengers were having free refreshments, the staff showed no signs of being starved either, but nevertheless the greatest gain remained with my brother in the ruin he so valiantly faced. The daily bulletins of victory or disaster which used to arrive from the theatre of action kept us in a fever of excitement. Then one day came the news that the steamer _Swadeshi_ had fouled the Howrah bridge and sunk. With this last loss my brother completely overstepped the limits of his resources, and there was nothing for it but to wind up the business. (42) _Bereavements_ In the meantime death made its appearance in our family. Before this, I had never met Death face to face. When my mother died I was quite a child. She had been ailing for quite a long time, and we did not even know when her malady had taken a fatal turn. She used all along to sleep on a separate bed in the same room with us. Then in the course of her illness she was taken for a boat trip on the river, and on her return a room on the third storey of the inner apartments was set apart for her. On the night she died we were fast asleep in our room downstairs. At what hour I cannot tell, our old nurse came running in weeping and crying: "O my little ones, you have lost your all!" My sister-in-law rebuked her and led her away, to save us the sudden shock at dead of night. Half awakened by her words, I felt my heart sink within me, but could not make out what had happened. When in the morning we were told of her death, I could not realize all that it meant for me. As we came out into the verandah we saw my mother laid on a bedstead in the courtyard. There was nothing in her appearance which showed death to be terrible. The aspect which death wore in that morning light was as lovely as a calm and peaceful sleep, and the gulf between life and its absence was not brought home to us. Only when her body was taken out by the main gateway, and we followed the procession to the cremation ground, did a storm of grief pass through me at the thought that mother would never return by this door and take again her accustomed place in the affairs of her household. The day wore on, we returned from the cremation, and as we turned into our lane I looked up at the house towards my father's rooms on the third storey. He was still in the front verandah sitting motionless in prayer. She who was the youngest daughter-in-law of the house took charge of the motherless little ones. She herself saw to our food and clothing and all other wants, and kept us constantly near, so that we might not feel our loss too keenly. One of the characteristics of the living is the power to heal the irreparable, to forget the irreplaceable. And in early life this power is strongest, so that no blow penetrates too deeply, no scar is left permanently. Thus the first shadow of death which fell on us left no darkness behind; it departed as softly as it came, only a shadow. When, in later life, I wandered about like a madcap, at the first coming of spring, with a handful of half-blown jessamines tied in a corner of my muslin scarf, and as I stroked my forehead with the soft, rounded, tapering buds, the touch of my mother's fingers would come back to me; and I clearly realised that the tenderness which dwelt in the tips of those lovely fingers was the very same as that which blossoms every day in the purity of these jessamine buds; and that whether we know it or not, this tenderness is on the earth in boundless measure. The acquaintance which I made with Death at the age of twenty-four was a permanent one, and its blow has continued to add itself to each succeeding bereavement in an ever lengthening chain of tears. The lightness of infant life can skip aside from the greatest of calamities, but with age evasion is not so easy, and the shock of that day I had to take full on my breast. That there could be any gap in the unbroken procession of the joys and sorrows of life was a thing I had no idea of. I could therefore see nothing beyond, and this life I had accepted as all in all. When of a sudden death came and in a moment made a gaping rent in its smooth-seeming fabric, I was utterly bewildered. All around, the trees, the soil, the water, the sun, the moon, the stars, remained as immovably true as before; and yet the person who was as truly there, who, through a thousand points of contact with life, mind, and heart, was ever so much more true for me, had vanished in a moment like a dream. What perplexing self-contradiction it all seemed to me as I looked around! How was I ever to reconcile that which remained with that which had gone? The terrible darkness which was disclosed to me through this rent, continued to attract me night and day as time went on. I would ever and anon return to take my stand there and gaze upon it, wondering what there was left in place of what had gone. Emptiness is a thing man cannot bring himself to believe in; that which is _not_, is untrue; that which is untrue, is not. So our efforts to find something, where we see nothing, are unceasing. Just as a young plant, surrounded by darkness, stretches itself, as it were on tiptoe, to find its way out into the light, so when death suddenly throws the darkness of negation round the soul it tries and tries to rise into the light of affirmation. And what other sorrow is comparable to the state wherein darkness prevents the finding of a way out of the darkness? And yet in the midst of this unbearable grief, flashes of joy seemed to sparkle in my mind, now and again, in a way which quite surprised me. That life was not a stable permanent fixture was itself the sorrowful tidings which helped to lighten my mind. That we were not prisoners for ever within a solid stone wall of life was the thought which unconsciously kept coming uppermost in rushes of gladness. That which I had held I was made to let go--this was the sense of loss which distressed me,--but when at the same moment I viewed it from the standpoint of freedom gained, a great peace fell upon me. The all-pervading pressure of worldly existence compensates itself by balancing life against death, and thus it does not crush us. The terrible weight of an unopposed life force has not to be endured by man,--this truth came upon me that day as a sudden, wonderful revelation. With the loosening of the attraction of the world, the beauty of nature took on for me a deeper meaning. Death had given me the correct perspective from which to perceive the world in the fulness of its beauty, and as I saw the picture of the Universe against the background of Death I found it entrancing. At this time I was attacked with a recrudescence of eccentricity in thought and behaviour. To be called upon to submit to the customs and fashions of the day, as if they were something soberly and genuinely real, made me want to laugh. I _could_ not take them seriously. The burden of stopping to consider what other people might think of me was completely lifted off my mind. I have been about in fashionable book shops with a coarse sheet draped round me as my only upper garment, and a pair of slippers on my bare feet. Through hot and cold and wet I used to sleep out on the verandah of the third storey. There the stars and I could gaze at each other, and no time was lost in greeting the dawn. This phase had nothing to do with any ascetic feeling. It was more like a holiday spree as the result of discovering the schoolmaster Life with his cane to be a myth, and thereby being able to shake myself free from the petty rules of his school. If, on waking one fine morning we were to find gravitation reduced to only a fraction of itself, would we still demurely walk along the high road? Would we not rather skip over many-storied houses for a change, or on encountering the monument take a flying jump, rather than trouble to walk round it? That was why, with the weight of worldly life no longer clogging my feet, I could not stick to the usual course of convention. Alone on the terrace in the darkness of night I groped all over like a blind man trying to find upon the black stone gate of death some device or sign. Then when I woke with the morning light falling on that unscreened bed of mine, I felt, as I opened my eyes, that my enveloping haze was becoming transparent; and, as on the clearing of the mist the hills and rivers and forests of the scene shine forth, so the dew-washed picture of the world-life, spread out before me, seemed to become renewed and ever so beautiful. (43) _The Rains and Autumn_ According to the Hindu calendar, each year is ruled by a particular planet. So have I found that in each period of life a particular season assumes a special importance. When I look back to my childhood I can best recall the rainy days. The wind-driven rain has flooded the verandah floor. The row of doors leading into the rooms are all closed. Peari, the old scullery maid, is coming from the market, her basket laden with vegetables, wading through the slush and drenched with the rain. And for no rhyme or reason I am careering about the verandah in an ecstasy of joy. This also comes back to me:--I am at school, our class is held in a colonnade with mats as outer screens; cloud upon cloud has come up during the afternoon, and they are now heaped up, covering the sky; and as we look on, the rain comes down in close thick showers, the thunder at intervals rumbling long and loud; some mad woman with nails of lightning seems to be rending the sky from end to end; the mat walls tremble under the blasts of wind as if they would be blown in; we can hardly see to read, for the darkness. The Pandit gives us leave to close our books. Then leaving the storm to do the romping and roaring for us, we keep swinging our dangling legs; and my mind goes right away across the far-off unending moor through which the Prince of the fairy tale passes. I remember, moreover, the depth of the _Sravan_[55] nights. The pattering of the rain finding its way through the gaps of my slumber, creates within a gladsome restfulness deeper than the deepest sleep. And in the wakeful intervals I pray that the morning may see the rain continue, our lane under water, and the bathing platform of the tank submerged to the last step. But at the age of which I have just been telling, Autumn is on the throne beyond all doubt. Its life is to be seen spread under the clear transparent leisure of _Aswin_.[56] And in the molten gold of this autumn sunshine, softly reflected from the fresh dewy green outside, I am pacing the verandah and composing, in the mode _Jogiya_, the song: In this morning light I do not know what it is that my heart desires. The autumn day wears on, the house gong sounds 12 noon, the mode changes; though my mind is still filled with music, leaving no room for call of work or duty; and I sing: What idle play is this with yourself, my heart, through the listless hours? Then in the afternoon I am lying on the white floorcloth of my little room, with a drawing book trying to draw pictures,--by no means an arduous pursuit of the pictorial muse, but just a toying with the desire to make pictures. The most important part is that which remains in the mind, and of which not a line gets drawn on the paper. And in the meantime the serene autumn afternoon is filtering through the walls of this little Calcutta room filling it, as a cup, with golden intoxication. I know not why, but all my days of that period I see as if through this autumn sky, this autumn light--the autumn which ripened for me my songs as it ripens the corn for the tillers; the autumn which filled my granary of leisure with radiance; the autumn which flooded my unburdened mind with an unreasoning joy in fashioning song and story. The great difference which I see between the Rainy-season of my childhood and the Autumn of my youth is that in the former it is outer Nature which closely hemmed me in keeping me entertained with its numerous troupe, its variegated make-up, its medley of music; while the festivity which goes on in the shining light of autumn is in man himself. The play of cloud and sunshine is left in the background, while the murmurs of joy and sorrow occupy the mind. It is our gaze which gives to the blue of the autumn sky its wistful tinge and human yearning which gives poignancy to the breath of its breezes. My poems have now come to the doors of men. Here informal goings and comings are not allowed. There is door after door, chamber within chamber. How many times have we to return with only a glimpse of the light in the window, only the sound of the pipes from within the palace gates lingering in our ears. Mind has to treat with mind, will to come to terms with will, through many tortuous obstructions, before giving and taking can come about. The foundation of life, as it dashes into these obstacles, splashes and foams over in laughter and tears, and dances and whirls through eddies from which one cannot get a definite idea of its course. (44) _Sharps and Flats_ _Sharps and Flats_ is a serenade from the streets in front of the dwelling of man, a plea to be allowed an entry and a place within that house of mystery. This world is sweet,--I do not want to die. I wish to dwell in the ever-living life of Man. This is the prayer of the individual to the universal life. When I started for my second voyage to England, I made the acquaintance on board ship of Asutosh Chaudhuri. He had just taken the M. A. degree of the Calcutta University and was on his way to England to join the Bar. We were together only during the few days the steamer took from Calcutta to Madras, but it became quite evident that depth of friendship does not depend upon length of acquaintance. Within this short time he so drew me to him by his simple natural qualities of heart, that the previous life-long gap in our acquaintance seemed always to have been filled with our friendship. When Ashu came back from England he became one of us.[57] He had not as yet had time or opportunity to pierce through all the barriers with which his profession is hedged in, and so become completely immersed in it. The money-bags of his clients had not yet sufficiently loosened the strings which held their gold, and Ashu was still an enthusiast in gathering honey from various gardens of literature. The spirit of literature which then saturated his being had nothing of the mustiness of library morocco about it, but was fragrant with the scent of unknown exotics from over the seas. At his invitation I enjoyed many a picnic amidst the spring time of those distant woodlands. He had a special taste for the flavour of French literature. I was then writing the poems which came to be published in the volume entitled _Kadi o Komal_, Sharps and Flats. Ashu could discern resemblances between many of my poems and old French poems he knew. According to him the common element in all these poems was the attraction which the play of world-life had for the poet, and this had found varied expression in each and every one of them. The unfulfilled desire to enter into this larger life was the fundamental motive throughout. "I will arrange and publish these poems for you," said Ashu, and accordingly that task was entrusted to him. The poem beginning _This world is sweet_ was the one he considered to be the keynote of the whole series and so he placed it at the beginning of the volume. Ashu was very possibly right. When in childhood I was confined to the house, I offered my heart in my wistful gaze to outside nature in all its variety through the openings in the parapet of our inner roof-terrace. In my youth the world of men in the same way exerted a powerful attraction on me. To that also I was then an outsider and looked out upon it from the roadside. My mind standing on the brink called out, as it were, with an eager waving of hands to the ferryman sailing away across the waves to the other side. For Life longed to start on life's journey. It is not true that my peculiarly isolated social condition was the bar to my plunging into the midst of the world-life. I see no sign that those of my countrymen who have been all their lives in the thick of society feel, any more than I did, the touch of its living intimacy. The life of our country has its high banks, and its flight of steps, and, on its dark waters falls the cool shade of the ancient trees, while from within the leafy branches over-head the _koel_ cooes forth its ravishing old-time song. But for all that it is stagnant water. Where is its current, where are the waves, when does the high tide rush in from the sea? Did I then get from the neighbourhood on the other side of our lane an echo of the victorious pæan with which the river, falling and rising, wave after wave, cuts its way through walls of stone to the sea? No! My life in its solitude was simply fretting for want of an invitation to the place where the festival of world-life was being held. Man is overcome by a profound depression while nodding through his voluptuously lazy hours of seclusion, because in this way he is deprived of full commerce with life. Such is the despondency from which I have always painfully struggled to get free. My mind refused to respond to the cheap intoxication of the political movements of those days, devoid, as they seemed, of all strength of national consciousness, with their complete ignorance of the country, their supreme indifference to real service of the motherland. I was tormented by a furious impatience, an intolerable dissatisfaction with myself and all around me. Much rather, I said to myself, would I be an Arab Bedouin! While in other parts of the world there is no end to the movement and clamour of the revelry of free life, we, like the beggar maid, stand outside and longingly look on. When have we had the wherewithal to deck ourselves for the occasion and go and join in it? Only in a country where the spirit of separation reigns supreme, and innumerable petty barriers divide one from another, need this longing to realise the larger life of the world in one's own remain unsatisfied. I strained with the same yearning towards the world of men in my youth, as I did in my childhood towards outside nature from within the chalk-ring drawn round me by the servants. How rare, how unattainable, how far away it seemed! And yet if we cannot get into touch with it, if from it no breeze can blow, no current come, if no road be there for the free goings and comings of travellers, then the dead things that accumulate around us never get removed, but continue to be heaped up till they smother all life. During the Rains there are only dark clouds and showers. And in the Autumn there is the play of light and shade in the sky, but that is not all-absorbing; for there is also the promise of corn in the fields. So in my poetical career, when the rainy season was in the ascendant there were only my vaporous fancies which stormed and showered; my utterance was misty, my verses were wild. And with the _Sharps and Flats_ of my Autumn, not only was there the play of cloud-effects in the sky, but out of the ground crops were to be seen rising. Then, in the commerce with the world of reality, both language and metre attempted definiteness and variety of form. Thus ends another Book. The days of coming together of inside and outside, kin and stranger, are closing in upon my life. My life's journey has now to be completed through the dwelling places of men. And the good and evil, joy and sorrow, which it thus encountered, are not to be lightly viewed as pictures. What makings and breakings, victories and defeats, clashings and minglings, are here going on! I have not the power to disclose and display the supreme art with which the Guide of my life is joyfully leading me through all its obstacles, antagonisms and crookednesses towards the fulfilment of its innermost meaning. And if I cannot make clear all the mystery of this design, whatever else I may try to show is sure to prove misleading at every step. To analyse the image is only to get at its dust, not at the joy of the artist. So having escorted them to the door of the inner sanctuary I take leave of my readers. Printed in the United States of America FOOTNOTES: [1] A jingling sentence in the Bengali Child's Primer. [2] Exercises in two-syllables. [3] Roofed colonnade or balcony. The writer's family house is an irregular three-storied mass of buildings, which had grown with the joint family it sheltered, built round several courtyards or quadrangles, with long colonnades along the outer faces, and narrower galleries running round each quadrangle, giving access to the single rows of rooms. [4] The men's portion of the house is the outer; and the women's the inner. [5] These Bustees or settlements consisting of tumbledown hovels, existing side by side with palatial buildings, are still one of the anomalies of Calcutta. _Tr._ [6] Corresponding to "Wonderland." [7] There are innumerable renderings of the Ramayana in the Indian languages. [8] A kind of crisp unsweetened pancake taken like bread along with the other courses. [9] Food while being eaten, and utensils or anything else touched by the hand engaged in conveying food to the mouth, are considered ceremonially unclean. [10] The writer is the youngest of seven brothers. The sixth brother is here meant. [11] Obsolete word meaning bee. [12] The lane, a blind one, leads, at right angles to the front verandah, from the public main road to the grounds round the house. [13] God of Death. [14] Goddess of Learning. [15] The Jupiter Pluvius of Hindu Mythology. [16] The King of the Yakshas is the Pluto of Hindu Mythology. [17] Corresponding to Lethe. [18] Krishna's playground. [19] Correspondence clerk. [20] Spices wrapped in betel leaf. [21] It is considered sinful for non-brahmins to cast glances on neophytes during the process of their sacred-thread investiture, before the ceremony is complete. [22] Two novices in the hermitage of the sage Kanva, mentioned in the Sanskrit drama, Sakuntala. [23] The text for self-realisation. [24] Bards or reciters. [25] The Cow and the Brahmin are watchwords of modern Hindu Orthodoxy. [26] An instrument on which the keynote is strummed to accompany singing. [27] A large proportion of words in the literary Bengali are derived unchanged from the Sanskrit. [28] Servants call the master and mistress father, and mother, and the children brothers and sisters. [29] Name of Vishnu in his aspect of slayer of the proud demon, Madhu. [30] Nirada is a Sanscrit word meaning _cloud_, being a compound of _nira_ = water and _da_ = giver. In Bengali it is pronounced _nirode_. [31] Betel-leaf and spices. [32] Father of the well-known artists Gaganendra and Abanindra. _Ed._ [33] In Bengali this word has come to mean an informal uninvited gathering. [34] Systems of notation were not then in use. One of the most popular of the present-day systems was subsequently devised by the writer's brother here mentioned. _Tr._ [35] The new bride of the house, wife of the writer's fourth brother, above-mentioned. _Tr._ [36] It may be helpful to the foreign reader to explain that the expert singer of Indian music improvises more or less on the tune outline made over to him by the original composer, so that the latter need not necessarily do more than give a correct idea of such outline. _Tr._ [37] This would mean "the genius of Bhubanmohini" if that be taken as the author's name. [38] Gifts of cloth for use as wearing apparel are customary by way of ceremonial offerings of affection, respect or seasonable greeting. [39] The old Vaishnava poets used to bring their name into the last stanza of the poem, this serving as their signature. Bhanu and Rabi both mean the Sun. _Tr._ [40] The dried and stripped centre-vein of a cocoanut leaf gives a long tapering stick of the average thickness of a match stick, and a bundle of these goes to make the common Bengal household broom which in the hands of the housewife is popularly supposed to be useful in keeping the whole household in order from husband downwards. Its effect on a bare back is here alluded to.--_Tr._ [41] There was a craze for phrenology at the time. _Tr._ [42] Latterly Sir Tarak Palit, a life-long friend of the writer's second brother. _Tr._ [43] Saraswati, the goddess of learning, is depicted in Bengal as clad in white and seated among a mass of lotus flowers. _Tr._ [44] With Indian music it is not a mere question of correctly rendering a melody exactly as composed, but the theme of the original composition is the subject of an improvised interpretative elaboration by the expounding Artist. _Tr._ [45] Valmiki Pratibha means the genius of Valmiki. The plot is based on the story of Valmiki, the robber chief, being moved to pity and breaking out into a metrical lament on witnessing the grief of one of a pair of cranes whose mate was killed by a hunter. In the metre which so came to him he afterwards composed his _Ramayana_. _Tr._ [46] Some Indian classic melodic compositions are designed on a scheme of accentuation, for which purpose the music is set, not to words, but to unmeaning notation-sounds representing drum-beats or plectrum-impacts which in Indian music are of a considerable variety of tone, each having its own sound-symbol. The _Telena_ is one such style of composition. _Tr._ [47] Reciters of Puranic legendary lore. _Tr._ [48] The Goddess of Wealth. [49] As distinguished generally from different provincial styles, but chiefly from the Dravidian style prevalent in the South. _Tr._ [50] Many of the Hindustani classic modes are supposed to be best in keeping with particular seasons of the year, or times of the day. _Tr._ [51] The world, as the Indian boy knows it from fairy tale and folklore, has seven seas and thirteen rivers. _Tr._ [52] This is addressed to Yashoda, mother of Krishna, by his playmates. Yashoda would dress up her darling every morning in his yellow garment with a peacock plume in his hair. But when it came to the point, she was nervous about allowing him, young as he was, to join the other cowherd boys at the pasturage. So it often required a great deal of persuasion before they would be allowed to take charge of him. This is part of the _Vaishnava_ parable of the child aspect of Krishna's play with the world. _Tr._ [53] A Busti is an area thickly packed with shabby tiled huts, with narrow pathways running through, and connecting it with the main street. These are inhabited by domestic servants, the poorer class of artisans and the like. Such settlements were formerly scattered throughout the town even in the best localities, but are now gradually disappearing from the latter. _Tr._ [54] One of Bankim Babu's brothers. [55] The month corresponding to July-August, the height of the rainy season. [56] The month of Aswin corresponds to September-October, the long vacation time for Bengal. [57] Referring to his marriage with the writer's niece, Pratibha. _Tr._ The following pages contain advertisements of Macmillan books by the same author. _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ =Personality= _Cloth, 12mo._ Herein are brought together some of the lectures which Sir Rabindranath Tagore delivered while in this country. Among those included are found: What is Art? The World of Personality, The Second Birth, My School and Meditation. Many of the thousands of people who heard Sir Rabindranath speak on these different subjects will doubtless be glad of the opportunity here presented for further study of his thoughts and philosophy. =Songs of Kabir= Cloth, 12mo, $1.25. Leather, $1.75. "Tagore has given his songs their melodic English translation and Miss Evelyn Underhill has prepared an excellent preface for the volume which outlines the life and philosophy of 'Kabir.'" _Review of Reviews_. * * * * * "No one in the least sympathetic to spiritual aspiration can read these outpourings without catching fire at their flame and getting a sense of supernal things. Tagore, a kindred spirit, has done a service in making this old mystic, whose soul experiences did not make him abstract, whose high song was that of the ascetic, but of a weaver who trod the common ways of man, known to English readers." _Bellman, Minneapolis, Minn._ "Upon the reality of life he erects his faith, and buttresses it with whatever of devotional good he may find in any religion. No ascetic, Kabir pictures the mystic world of his belief with a beautiful richness of symbolism." _Philadelphia Public Ledger_. "Not only students of Indian literature or of comparative religions will welcome this striking translation of a fifteenth-century Indian mystic. Every one who is capable of responding to an appeal to cast off the swathings of formalism and come out into spiritual freedom, every one who is sensitive to poetry that, while highly symbolical, is yet clear and simple and full of beauty, will read it with interest and with heart-quickening." _New York Times_. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York =The Cycle of Spring: A Play= _Cloth, 12mo, $1.25. Leather, $1.75._ This, the latest and richest of the author's plays, was recently performed in the courtyard of his Calcutta home by the masters and boys of Shantiniketan. The success was immense: and naturally, for the spirit of the play is the spirit of universal youth, filled with laughter and lyric fervour, jest and pathos and resurgence: immortal youth whose every death is a rebirth, every winter an enfolded spring. "All the joy, the buoyancy, the resilience, the indomitable and irrepressible hopefulness of Youth are compacted in the lines of the play. The keynote is sounded, with subtle symbolism, in the Prelude, in which the King ranks above all matters of State or of Humanity the circumstances that two gray hairs had made their appearance behind the ear that morning.... Dramatic power, philosophy and lyric charm are brilliantly blended in a work of art that has the freshness and the promise of its theme." _New York Tribune_. "A more beautiful play than 'The Cycle of Spring' by Sir Rabindranath Tagore it would be hard to find in all literature. It embodies the spirit of youth, and one can almost hear in it the laughter of the eternally young.... Not only the glamor of the Orient but the breath of Undying Youth is in this work of Tagore, a genius so peculiar to India, so utterly inartificial, so completely of imagination all compact that his colossal power begotten of Fairyland and the World of Visions makes us poor Occidentals look very small indeed." _Rochester Post Express_. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York =The Hungry Stones and Other Stories= _Cloth, 12mo, $1.35. Leather, $1.75._ "These short stories furnish a double guaranty of the Hindu Nobel Prize winner's rightful place among the notable literary figures of our times." _New York Globe_. "Imagination, charm of style, poetry, and depth of feeling without gloominess, characterize this volume of stories of the Eastern poet. This new volume of his work which introduces him to English readers as a short-story writer is as significant of his power as are the verses that have preceded it." _Boston Transcript_. "A book of strange, beautiful, widely varying tales. Through them all, the thread on which the beautiful beads are strung is the poet's mystic philosophy." _New York Times_. "The unutterable fascination of the Orient will be found in all these beautiful tales. Exquisite art unlike that of any other living writer. Rabindranath Tagore is one of the magicians of modern literature--a transcendently great genius who brings to mammon-worshipping Western minds the fantasy, the enchantment, and the wonder of the Orient." _Rochester Post Express_. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York =Stray Birds= Frontispiece and Decorations by Willy Pogany _12mo, $1.50._ Written during his present visit to America, this book may be said to contain the essence of all Tagore's poetry and philosophy, revealed by many aphorisms, epigrams and sayings. Here is the kernel of the wisdom and insight of the great Hindu seer in the form of short extracts. These sayings are the essence of his Eastern message to the Western world. The frontispiece and decorations by Willy Pogany are beautiful in themselves, and enhance the spiritual significance of this extraordinary book. "Each reflects some aspect of beauty, in thought or in nature, or some of the many-sided philosophical reflections of the author. In one sense these stray birds are tiny prose poems, a fact which makes the dedication of the volume to 'T. Hara, of Yokohama,' peculiarly appropriate, for they all suggest the delicacy and minuteness of Japanese poetry as it is known to us in translation." _Philadelphia Public Ledger_. "Pleasing and inspiring." _Boston Daily Advertiser_. "His utterances have something of the elusive delicacy of memories of moral experiences out of a remote past." _Nation_. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York Nobel Prizeman in Literature, 1913. Author of "Gitanjali," "The Gardener," "The Crescent Moon," "Sadhana." =Chitra= =A PLAY IN ONE ACT= _Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. Leather, $1.75._ "The play is told with the simplicity and wonder of imagery always characteristic of Rabindranath Tagore." _Cleveland Plain Dealer_. "All the poetry of Tagore is here." ... _Poetry Journal_. "Beautiful and marked by skilful rhythm." _Newark Evening News_. "A clear portrayal of the dual nature of womankind." _Graphic_. "The play is finely idyllic." _Chicago Daily Tribune_. "A pretty situation, prettily worked out. And there is something piquant in the combination of the old Hindu metaphorical style, half mystical in allusion, with what is really a plea for the emancipation of women." _The Nation_. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York =Fruit Gathering= _Cloth, 12mo, $1.25. Leather, $1.75._ "A shining pathway up which we can confidently travel to those regions of wisdom and experience which consciously or unconsciously we strive to reach." _Boston Transcript_. "Quaintly lovely fragments." _Chicago Herald_. "Exquisitely conceived and with all the distinctive grace which marked 'Song Offerings.'" _San Francisco Chronicle_. "Exotic fragrance." _Chicago Daily News_. "The songs have the quality of universality--the greatest quality which poetry can possess." _Chicago Tribune_. "As perfect in form as they are beautiful and poignant in content." _The Athenæum, London_. "Nothing richer nor sweeter.... Something of Omar Khayyam and something of Rabbi ben Ezra, expressed more at length and more mystically. In smoothly flowing rhythms, with vivid little pictures of life's activities, the poet sings of old age, the fruit gathering time, its sadness and its glory, its advantages and its sorrows." _The Boston Globe_. * * * * * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York =The Post Office= Cloth, 12mo, $1.00; leather, $1.75. "... filled with tender pathos and spiritual beauty. There are two acts, and the story is that of a frail little Indian lad condemned to seclusion and inaction by ill health. He makes a new world for himself, however, by his imagination and insatiable curiosity, and the passersby bring the world of action to him. The play has been presented in England by the Irish Players, and fully adapts itself to the charming simplicity and charm which are their principal characteristics." _Phila. Public Ledger_. "A beautiful and appealing piece of dramatic work." _Boston Transcript_. "Once more Tagore demonstrates the universality of his genius; once more he shows how art and true feeling know no racial and no religious lines." _Kentucky Post_. "One reads in 'The Post Office' his own will of symbolism. Simplicity and a pervading, appealing pathos are the qualities transmitted to its lines by the poet." _N. Y. World_. "He writes from his soul; there is neither bombast nor didacticism. His poems bring one to the quiet places where the soul speaks to the soul surely but serenely." _N. Y. American_. * * * * * PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York =The King of the Dark Chamber= By RABINDRANATH TAGORE Nobel Prizeman in Literature, 1913; Author of "Gitangali," "The Gardener," "The Crescent Moon," "Sadhana," "Chitra," "The Post-Office," etc. Cloth 12 mo, $1.25; leather, $1.75. "The real poetical imagination of it is unchangeable; the allegory, subtle and profound and yet simple, is cast into the form of a dramatic narrative, which moves with unconventional freedom to a finely impressive climax; and the reader, who began in idle curiosity, finds his intelligence more and more engaged until, when he turns the last page, he has the feeling of one who has been moving in worlds not realized, and communing with great if mysterious presences." _The London Globe_. * * * * * PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York OTHER WORKS BY =RABINDRANATH TAGORE= _Nobel Prizeman in Literature, 1913_ =GITANJALI= (Song Offerings). A Collection of Prose Translations made by the author from the original Bengali. New Edition $1.25 =THE GARDENER=. Poems of Youth $1.25 =THE CRESCENT MOON=. Child Poems. (Colored Ill.) $1.25 =SADHANA: THE REALIZATION OF LIFE=. A volume of essays $1.25 All four by Rabindranath Tagore, translated by the author from the original Bengali. Rabindranath Tagore is the Hindu poet and preacher to whom the Nobel Prize was recently awarded.... I would commend these volumes, and especially the one entitled "Sadhana," the collection of essays, to all intelligent readers. I know of nothing, except it be Maeterlinck, in the whole modern range of the literature of the inner life that can compare with them. There are no preachers nor writers upon spiritual topics, whether in Europe or America, that have the depth of insight, the quickness of religious apperception, combined with the intellectual honesty and scientific clearness of Tagore.... Here is a book from a master, free as the air, with a mind universal as the sunshine. He writes, of course, from the standpoint of the Hindu. But, strange to say, his spirit and teaching come nearer to Jesus, as we find Him in the Gospels, than any modern Christian writer I know. He does for the average reader what Bergson and Eucken are doing for scholars; he rescues the soul and its faculties from their enslavement to logic-chopping. He shows us the way back to Nature and her spiritual voices. He rebukes our materialistic, wealth-mad, Western life with the dignity and authority of one of the old Hebrew prophets.... He opens up the meaning of life. He makes us feel the redeeming fact that life is tremendous, a worth-while adventure. "Everything has sprung from immortal life and is vibrating with life. LIFE IS IMMENSE." ... Tagore is a great human being. His heart is warm with love. His thoughts are pure and high as the galaxy. (Copyright, 1913, by Frank Crane.) Reprinted by permission from the _New York Globe_, Dec. 18, 1913. * * * * * PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York * * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Notes: | | | | Page 49: One instance of Govinda and one instance of | | Gobinda: discrepancy retained | | Page 53: Hindusthani _sic_ ("Hindustani" | | _sic_ in Footnote 50.) | | Page 137: Closing quotes added after "...Singha;" | | Page 179: appetities amended to appetites | | Page 196: muscial amended to musical | | Page 219: Himayalas amended to Himalayas | | Page 235: cardamum _sic_ | | Page 236: casuarianas amended to casuarinas | | Page 270: cooes _sic_ | | Advertisements at close of book (unpaginated): | | transcendently _sic_ and Gitangali _sic_ | | | | Footnote 50 had a double reference in the original text, | | which has been retained here. | | | | Small discrepancies such as capitalisation between the | | List of Illustrations and the illustration captions have | | been retained. | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained. | | | | Inconsistent spelling of colours/colors has been retained. | | | | Sanskrit and Sanscrit are used interchangeably in the | | original. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * 
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246	----	RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM By Omar Khayyam Rendered into English Verse by Edward Fitzgerald Contents: Introduction. First Edition. Fifth Edition. Notes. Introduction Omar Khayyam, The Astronomer-Poet of Persia. Omar Khayyam was born at Naishapur in Khorassan in the latter half of our Eleventh, and died within the First Quarter of our Twelfth Century. The Slender Story of his Life is curiously twined about that of two other very considerable Figures in their Time and Country: one of whom tells the Story of all Three. This was Nizam ul Mulk, Vizier to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah the Grandson, of Toghrul Beg the Tartar, who had wrested Persia from the feeble Successor of Mahmud the Great, and founded that Seljukian Dynasty which finally roused Europe into the Crusades. This Nizam ul Mulk, in his Wasiyat--or Testament--which he wrote and left as a Memorial for future Statesmen--relates the following, as quoted in the Calcutta Review, No. 59, from Mirkhond's History of the Assassins. "'One of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassan was the Imam Mowaffak of Naishapur, a man highly honored and reverenced,--may God rejoice his soul; his illustrious years exceeded eighty-five, and it was the universal belief that every boy who read the Koran or studied the traditions in his presence, would assuredly attain to honor and happiness. For this cause did my father send me from Tus to Naishapur with Abd-us-samad, the doctor of law, that I might employ myself in study and learning under the guidance of that illustrious teacher. Towards me he ever turned an eye of favor and kindness, and as his pupil I felt for him extreme affection and devotion, so that I passed four years in his service. When I first came there, I found two other pupils of mine own age newly arrived, Hakim Omar Khayyam, and the ill- fated Ben Sabbah. Both were endowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers; and we three formed a close friendship together. When the Imam rose from his lectures, they used to join me, and we repeated to each other the lessons we had heard. Now Omar was a native of Naishapur, while Hasan Ben Sabbah's father was one Ali, a man of austere life and practise, but heretical in his creed and doctrine. One day Hasan said to me and to Khayyam, "It is a universal belief that the pupils of the Imam Mowaffak will attain to fortune. Now, even if we all do not attain thereto, without doubt one of us will; what then shall be our mutual pledge and bond?" We answered, "Be it what you please." "Well," he said, "let us make a vow, that to whomsoever this fortune falls, he shall share it equally with the rest, and reserve no pre-eminence for himself." "Be it so," we both replied, and on those terms we mutually pledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went from Khorassan to Transoxiana, and wandered to Ghazni and Cabul; and when I returned, I was invested with office, and rose to be administrator of affairs during the Sultanate of Sultan Alp Arslan.' "He goes on to state, that years passed by, and both his old school- friends found him out, and came and claimed a share in his good fortune, according to the school-day vow. The Vizier was generous and kept his word. Hasan demanded a place in the government, which the Sultan granted at the Vizier's request; but discontented with a gradual rise, he plunged into the maze of intrigue of an oriental court, and, failing in a base attempt to supplant his benefactor, he was disgraced and fell. After many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan became the head of the Persian sect of the Ismailians,--a party of fanatics who had long murmured in obscurity, but rose to an evil eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil will. In A.D. 1090, he seized the castle of Alamut, in the province of Rudbar, which lies in the mountainous tract south of the Caspian Sea; and it was from this mountain home he obtained that evil celebrity among the Crusaders as the OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS, and spread terror through the Mohammedan world; and it is yet disputed where the word Assassin, which they have left in the language of modern Europe as their dark memorial, is derived from the hashish, or opiate of hemp-leaves (the Indian bhang), with which they maddened themselves to the sullen pitch of oriental desperation, or from the name of the founder of the dynasty, whom we have seen in his quiet collegiate days, at Naishapur. One of the countless victims of the Assassin's dagger was Nizam ul Mulk himself, the old school-boy friend.[1] "Omar Khayyam also came to the Vizier to claim his share; but not to ask for title or office. 'The greatest boon you can confer on me,' he said, 'is to let me live in a corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide the advantages of Science, and pray for your long life and prosperity.' The Vizier tells us, that when he found Omar was really sincere in his refusal, he pressed him no further, but granted him a yearly pension of 1200 mithkals of gold from the treasury of Naishapur. "At Naishapur thus lived and died Omar Khayyam, 'busied,' adds the Vizier, 'in winning knowledge of every kind, and especially in Astronomy, wherein he attained to a very high pre-eminence. Under the Sultanate of Malik Shah, he came to Merv, and obtained great praise for his proficiency in science, and the Sultan showered favors upon him.' "When the Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar, Omar was one of the eight learned men employed to do it; the result was the Jalali era (so called from Jalal-ud-din, one of the king's names)--'a computation of time,' says Gibbon, 'which surpasses the Julian, and approaches the accuracy of the Gregorian style.' He is also the author of some astronomical tables, entitled 'Ziji-Malikshahi,' and the French have lately republished and translated an Arabic Treatise of his on Algebra. "His Takhallus or poetical name (Khayyam) signifies a Tent-maker, and he is said to have at one time exercised that trade, perhaps before Nizam-ul-Mulk's generosity raised him to independence. Many Persian poets similarly derive their names from their occupations; thus we have Attar, 'a druggist,' Assar, 'an oil presser,' etc.[2] Omar himself alludes to his name in the following whimsical lines:-- "'Khayyam, who stitched the tents of science, Has fallen in grief's furnace and been suddenly burned; The shears of Fate have cut the tent ropes of his life, And the broker of Hope has sold him for nothing!' "We have only one more anecdote to give of his Life, and that relates to the close; it is told in the anonymous preface which is sometimes prefixed to his poems; it has been printed in the Persian in the Appendix to Hyde's Veterum Persarum Religio, p. 499; and D'Herbelot alludes to it in his Bibliotheque, under Khiam.[3]-- "'It is written in the chronicles of the ancients that this King of the Wise, Omar Khayyam, died at Naishapur in the year of the Hegira, 517 (A.D. 1123); in science he was unrivaled,--the very paragon of his age. Khwajah Nizami of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils, relates the following story: "I often used to hold conversations with my teacher, Omar Khayyam, in a garden; and one day he said to me, 'My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses over it.' I wondered at the words he spake, but I knew that his were no idle words.[4] Years after, when I chanced to revisit Naishapur, I went to his final resting-place, and lo! it was just outside a garden, and trees laden with fruit stretched their boughs over the garden wall, and dropped their flowers upon his tomb, so that the stone was hidden under them."'" Thus far--without fear of Trespass--from the Calcutta Review. The writer of it, on reading in India this story of Omar's Grave, was reminded, he says, of Cicero's Account of finding Archimedes' Tomb at Syracuse, buried in grass and weeds. I think Thorwaldsen desired to have roses grow over him; a wish religiously fulfilled for him to the present day, I believe. However, to return to Omar. Though the Sultan "shower'd Favors upon him," Omar's Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech caused him to be regarded askance in his own Time and Country. He is said to have been especially hated and dreaded by the Sufis, whose Practise he ridiculed, and whose Faith amounts to little more than his own, when stript of the Mysticism and formal recognition of Islamism under which Omar would not hide. Their Poets, including Hafiz, who are (with the exception of Firdausi) the most considerable in Persia, borrowed largely, indeed, of Omar's material, but turning it to a mystical Use more convenient to Themselves and the People they addressed; a People quite as quick of Doubt as of Belief; as keen of Bodily sense as of Intellectual; and delighting in a cloudy composition of both, in which they could float luxuriously between Heaven and Earth, and this World and the Next, on the wings of a poetical expression, that might serve indifferently for either. Omar was too honest of Heart as well of Head for this. Having failed (however mistakenly) of finding any Providence but Destiny, and any World but This, he set about making the most of it; preferring rather to soothe the Soul through the Senses into Acquiescence with Things as he saw them, than to perplex it with vain disquietude after what they might be. It has been seen, however, that his Worldly Ambition was not exorbitant; and he very likely takes a humorous or perverse pleasure in exalting the gratification of Sense above that of the Intellect, in which he must have taken great delight, although it failed to answer the Questions in which he, in common with all men, was most vitally interested. For whatever Reason, however, Omar as before said, has never been popular in his own Country, and therefore has been but scantily transmitted abroad. The MSS. of his Poems, mutilated beyond the average Casualties of Oriental Transcription, are so rare in the East as scarce to have reacht Westward at all, in spite of all the acquisitions of Arms and Science. There is no copy at the India House, none at the Bibliotheque Nationale of Paris. We know but of one in England: No. 140 of the Ouseley MSS. at the Bodleian, written at Shiraz, A.D. 1460. This contains but 158 Rubaiyat. One in the Asiatic Society's Library at Calcutta (of which we have a Copy), contains (and yet incomplete) 516, though swelled to that by all kinds of Repetition and Corruption. So Von Hammer speaks of his Copy as containing about 200, while Dr. Sprenger catalogues the Lucknow MS. at double that number.[5] The Scribes, too, of the Oxford and Calcutta MSS. seem to do their Work under a sort of Protest; each beginning with a Tetrastich (whether genuine or not), taken out of its alphabetical order; the Oxford with one of Apology; the Calcutta with one of Expostulation, supposed (says a Notice prefixed to the MS.) to have arisen from a Dream, in which Omar's mother asked about his future fate. It may be rendered thus:-- "O Thou who burn'st in Heart for those who burn In Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn, How long be crying, 'Mercy on them, God!' Why, who art Thou to teach, and He to learn?" The Bodleian Quatrain pleads Pantheism by way of Justification. "If I myself upon a looser Creed Have loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed, Let this one thing for my Atonement plead: That One for Two I never did misread." The Reviewer,[6] to whom I owe the Particulars of Omar's Life, concludes his Review by comparing him with Lucretius, both as to natural Temper and Genius, and as acted upon by the Circumstances in which he lived. Both indeed were men of subtle, strong, and cultivated Intellect, fine Imagination, and Hearts passionate for Truth and Justice; who justly revolted from their Country's false Religion, and false, or foolish, Devotion to it; but who fell short of replacing what they subverted by such better Hope as others, with no better Revelation to guide them, had yet made a Law to themselves. Lucretius indeed, with such material as Epicurus furnished, satisfied himself with the theory of a vast machine fortuitously constructed, and acting by a Law that implied no Legislator; and so composing himself into a Stoical rather than Epicurean severity of Attitude, sat down to contemplate the mechanical drama of the Universe which he was part Actor in; himself and all about him (as in his own sublime description of the Roman Theater) discolored with the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended between the Spectator and the Sun. Omar, more desperate, or more careless of any so complicated System as resulted in nothing but hopeless Necessity, flung his own Genius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest into the general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only served to reveal; and, pretending sensual pleasure, as the serious purpose of Life, only diverted himself with speculative problems of Deity, Destiny, Matter and Spirit, Good and Evil, and other such questions, easier to start than to run down, and the pursuit of which becomes a very weary sport at last! With regard to the present Translation. The original Rubaiyat (as, missing an Arabic Guttural, these Tetrastichs are more musically called) are independent Stanzas, consisting each of four Lines of equal, though varied, Prosody; sometimes all rhyming, but oftener (as here imitated) the third line a blank. Somewhat as in the Greek Alcaic, where the penultimate line seems to lift and suspend the Wave that falls over in the last. As usual with such kind of Oriental Verse, the Rubaiyat follow one another according to Alphabetic Rhyme--a strange succession of Grave and Gay. Those here selected are strung into something of an Eclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the "Drink and make-merry," which (genuine or not) recurs over-frequently in the Original. Either way, the Result is sad enough: saddest perhaps when most ostentatiously merry: more apt to move Sorrow than Anger toward the old Tentmaker, who, after vainly endeavoring to unshackle his Steps from Destiny, and to catch some authentic Glimpse of TO-MORROW, fell back upon TO-DAY (which has outlasted so many To-morrows!) as the only Ground he had got to stand upon, however momentarily slipping from under his Feet. [From the Third Edition.] While the second Edition of this version of Omar was preparing, Monsieur Nicolas, French Consul at Resht, published a very careful and very good Edition of the Text, from a lithograph copy at Teheran, comprising 464 Rubaiyat, with translation and notes of his own. Mons. Nicolas, whose Edition has reminded me of several things, and instructed me in others, does not consider Omar to be the material Epicurean that I have literally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing the Deity under the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, &c., as Hafiz is supposed to do; in short, a Sufi Poet like Hafiz and the rest. I cannot see reason to alter my opinion, formed as it was more than a dozen years ago when Omar was first shown me by one to whom I am indebted for all I know of Oriental, and very much of other, literature. He admired Omar's Genius so much, that he would gladly have adopted any such Interpretation of his meaning as Mons. Nicolas' if he could.[7] That he could not, appears by his Paper in the Calcutta Review already so largely quoted; in which he argues from the Poems themselves, as well as from what records remain of the Poet's Life. And if more were needed to disprove Mons. Nicolas' Theory, there is the Biographical Notice which he himself has drawn up in direct contradiction to the Interpretation of the Poems given in his Notes. (See pp. 13-14 of his Preface.) Indeed I hardly knew poor Omar was so far gone till his Apologist informed me. For here we see that, whatever were the Wine that Hafiz drank and sang, the veritable Juice of the Grape it was which Omar used, not only when carousing with his friends, but (says Mons. Nicolas) in order to excite himself to that pitch of Devotion which others reached by cries and "hurlemens." And yet, whenever Wine, Wine-bearer, &c., occur in the Text--which is often enough--Mons. Nicolas carefully annotates "Dieu," "La Divinite," &c.: so carefully indeed that one is tempted to think that he was indoctrinated by the Sufi with whom he read the Poems. (Note to Rub. ii. p. 8.) A Persian would naturally wish to vindicate a distinguished Countryman; and a Sufi to enroll him in his own sect, which already comprises all the chief Poets of Persia. What historical Authority has Mons. Nicolas to show that Omar gave himself up "avec passion a l'etude de la philosophie des Soufis"? (Preface, p. xiii.) The Doctrines of Pantheism, Materialism, Necessity, &c., were not peculiar to the Sufi; nor to Lucretius before them; nor to Epicurus before him; probably the very original Irreligion of Thinking men from the first; and very likely to be the spontaneous growth of a Philosopher living in an Age of social and political barbarism, under shadow of one of the Two and Seventy Religions supposed to divide the world. Von Hammer (according to Sprenger's Oriental Catalogue) speaks of Omar as "a Free-thinker, and a great opponent of Sufism;" perhaps because, while holding much of their Doctrine, he would not pretend to any inconsistent severity of morals. Sir W. Ouseley has written a note to something of the same effect on the fly-leaf of the Bodleian MS. And in two Rubaiyat of Mons. Nicolas' own Edition Suf and Sufi are both disparagingly named. No doubt many of these Quatrains seem unaccountable unless mystically interpreted; but many more as unaccountable unless literally. Were the Wine spiritual, for instance, how wash the Body with it when dead? Why make cups of the dead clay to be filled with--"La Divinite," by some succeeding Mystic? Mons. Nicolas himself is puzzled by some "bizarres" and "trop Orientales" allusions and images--"d'une sensualite quelquefois revoltante" indeed--which "les convenances" do not permit him to translate; but still which the reader cannot but refer to "La Divinite."[8] No doubt also many of the Quatrains in the Teheran, as in the Calcutta, Copies, are spurious; such Rubaiyat being the common form of Epigram in Persia. But this, at best, tells as much one way as another; nay, the Sufi, who may be considered the Scholar and Man of Letters in Persia, would be far more likely than the careless Epicure to interpolate what favours his own view of the Poet. I observed that very few of the more mystical Quatrains are in the Bodleian MS., which must be one of the oldest, as dated at Shiraz, A.H. 865, A.D. 1460. And this, I think, especially distinguishes Omar (I cannot help calling him by his--no, not Christian--familiar name) from all other Persian Poets: That, whereas with them the Poet is lost in his Song, the Man in Allegory and Abstraction; we seem to have the Man--the Bon-homme--Omar himself, with all his Humours and Passions, as frankly before us as if we were really at Table with him, after the Wine had gone round. I must say that I, for one, never wholly believed in the Mysticism of Hafiz. It does not appear there was any danger in holding and singing Sufi Pantheism, so long as the Poet made his Salaam to Mohammed at the beginning and end of his Song. Under such conditions Jelaluddin, Jami, Attar, and others sang; using Wine and Beauty indeed as Images to illustrate, not as a Mask to hide, the Divinity they were celebrating. Perhaps some Allegory less liable to mistake or abuse had been better among so inflammable a People: much more so when, as some think with Hafiz and Omar, the abstract is not only likened to, but identified with, the sensual Image; hazardous, if not to the Devotee himself, yet to his weaker Brethren; and worse for the Profane in proportion as the Devotion of the Initiated grew warmer. And all for what? To be tantalized with Images of sensual enjoyment which must be renounced if one would approximate a God, who according to the Doctrine, is Sensual Matter as well as Spirit, and into whose Universe one expects unconsciously to merge after Death, without hope of any posthumous Beatitude in another world to compensate for all one's self- denial in this. Lucretius' blind Divinity certainly merited, and probably got, as much self-sacrifice as this of the Sufi; and the burden of Omar's Song--if not "Let us eat"--is assuredly--"Let us drink, for To-morrow we die!" And if Hafiz meant quite otherwise by a similar language, he surely miscalculated when he devoted his Life and Genius to so equivocal a Psalmody as, from his Day to this, has been said and sung by any rather than spiritual Worshippers. However, as there is some traditional presumption, and certainly the opinion of some learned men, in favour of Omar's being a Sufi--and even something of a Saint--those who please may so interpret his Wine and Cup-bearer. On the other hand, as there is far more historical certainty of his being a Philosopher, of scientific Insight and Ability far beyond that of the Age and Country he lived in; of such moderate worldly Ambition as becomes a Philosopher, and such moderate wants as rarely satisfy a Debauchee; other readers may be content to believe with me that, while the Wine Omar celebrates is simply the Juice of the Grape, he bragg'd more than he drank of it, in very defiance perhaps of that Spiritual Wine which left its Votaries sunk in Hypocrisy or Disgust. Edward J. Fitzgerald Footnotes: [Footnote 1: Some of Omar's Rubaiyat warn us of the danger of Greatness, the instability of Fortune, and while advocating Charity to all Men, recommending us to be too intimate with none. Attar makes Nizam-ul-Mulk use the very words of his friend Omar [Rub. xxviii.], "When Nizam-ul- Mulk was in the Agony (of Death) he said, 'Oh God! I am passing away in the hand of the wind.'"] [Footnote 2: Though all these, like our Smiths, Archers, Millers, Fletchers, etc., may simply retain the Surname of an hereditary calling.] [Footnote 3: "Philosophe Musulman qui a vecu en Odeur de Saintete dans sa Religion, vers la Fin du premier et le Commencement du second Siecle," no part of which, except the "Philosophe," can apply to our Khayyam.] [Footnote 4: The Rashness of the Words, according to D'Herbelot, consisted in being so opposed to those in the Koran: "No Man knows where he shall die."--This story of Omar reminds me of another so naturally--and when one remembers how wide of his humble mark the noble sailor aimed--so pathetically told by Captain Cook--not by Doctor Hawkworth--in his Second Voyage (i. 374). When leaving Ulietea, "Oreo's last request was for me to return. When he saw he could not obtain that promise, he asked the name of my Marai (burying-place). As strange a question as this was, I hesitated not a moment to tell him 'Stepney'; the parish in which I live when in London. I was made to repeat it several times over till they could pronounce it; and then 'Stepney Marai no Toote' was echoed through an hundred mouths at once. I afterwards found the same question had been put to Mr. Forster by a man on shore; but he gave a different, and indeed more proper answer, by saying, 'No man who used the sea could say where he should be buried.'"] [Footnote 5: "Since this paper was written" (adds the Reviewer in a note), "we have met with a Copy of a very rare Edition, printed at Calcutta in 1836. This contains 438 Tetrastichs, with an Appendix containing 54 others not found in some MSS."] [Footnote 6: Professor Cowell.] [Footnote 7: Perhaps would have edited the Poems himself some years ago. He may now as little approve of my Version on one side, as of Mons. Nicolas' Theory on the other.] [Footnote 8: A note to Quatrain 234 admits that, however clear the mystical meaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted without "rougissant" even by laymen in Persia--"Quant aux termes de tendresse qui commencent ce quatrain, comme tant d'autres dans ce recueil, nos lecteurs, habitues maintenant a 1'etrangete des expressions si souvent employees par Kheyam pour rendre ses pensees sur l'amour divin, et a la singularite des images trop orientales, d'une sensualite quelquefois revoltante, n'auront pas de peine a se persuader qu'il s'agit de la Divinite, bien que cette conviction soit vivement discutee par les moullahs musulmans, et meme par beaucoup de laiques, qui rougissent veritablement d'une pareille licence de leur compatriote a 1'egard des choses spirituelles."] First Edition I. Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light. II. Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, "Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry." III. And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door. You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." IV. Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. V. Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose, And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows. VI. And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine High piping Pelevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose That yellow Cheek of hers to'incarnadine. VII. Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly--and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing. VIII. And look--a thousand Blossoms with the Day Woke--and a thousand scatter'd into Clay: And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away. IX. But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot: Let Rustum lay about him as he will, Or Hatim Tai cry Supper--heed them not. X. With me along some Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known, And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne. XI. Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- And Wilderness is Paradise enow. XII. "How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"--think some: Others--"How blest the Paradise to come!" Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum! XIII. Look to the Rose that blows about us--"Lo, Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow: At once the silken Tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." XIV. The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face Lighting a little Hour or two--is gone. XV. And those who husbanded the Golden Grain, And those who flung it to the Winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again. XVI. Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp Abode his Hour or two, and went his way. XVII. They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep: And Bahram, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, and he lies fast asleep. XVIII. I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head. XIX. And this delightful Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean-- Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! XX. Ah! my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears- To-morrow?--Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years. XXI. Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to Rest. XXII. And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend, ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? XXIII. Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust Descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and--sans End! XXIV. Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after a TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There." XXV. Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. XXVI. Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies; One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. XXVII. Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same Door as in I went. XXVIII. With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with my own hand labour'd it to grow: And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-- "I came like Water, and like Wind I go." XXIX. Into this Universe, and why not knowing, Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing: And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing. XXX. What, without asking, hither hurried whence? And, without asking, whither hurried hence! Another and another Cup to drown The Memory of this Impertinence! XXXI. Up from Earth's Centre through the seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate. XXXII. There was a Door to which I found no Key: There was a Veil past which I could not see: Some little Talk awhile of ME and THEE There seemed--and then no more of THEE and ME. XXXIII. Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried, Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?" And--"A blind understanding!" Heav'n replied. XXXIV. Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live, Drink!--for once dead you never shall return." XXXV. I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And merry-make; and the cold Lip I kiss'd How many Kisses might it take--and give. XXXVI. For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day, I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!" XXXVII. Ah, fill the Cup:--what boots it to repeat How Time is slipping underneath our Feet: Unborn TO-MORROW and dead YESTERDAY, Why fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet! XXXVIII. One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, One moment, of the Well of Life to taste-- The Stars are setting, and the Caravan Starts for the dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste! XXXIX. How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute? Better be merry with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. XL. You know, my Friends, how long since in my House For a new Marriage I did make Carouse: Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. XLI. For "IS" and "IS-NOT" though with Rule and Line, And, "UP-AND-DOWN" without, I could define, I yet in all I only cared to know, Was never deep in anything but--Wine. XLII. And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape, Bearing a vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape! XLIII. The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute. XLIV. The mighty Mahmud, the victorious Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword. XLV. But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me The Quarrel of the Universe let be: And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht, Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee. XLVI. For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go. XLVII. And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in the Nothing all Things end in--Yes- Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what Thou shalt be--Nothing--Thou shalt not be less. XLVIII. While the Rose blows along the River Brink, With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink: And when the Angel with his darker Draught Draws up to thee--take that, and do not shrink. XLVIX. 'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. L. The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field, He knows about it all--HE knows--HE knows! LI. The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it. LII. And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, Lift not thy hands to IT for help--for It Rolls impotently on as Thou or I. LIII. With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man's knead, And then of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. LIV. I tell Thee this--When, starting from the Goal, Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung, In my predestin'd Plot of Dust and Soul LV. The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about It clings my Being--let the Sufi flout; Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without. LVI. And this I know: whether the one True Light, Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. LVII. Oh Thou who didst with Pitfall and with Gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestination round Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin? LVIII. Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And who with Eden didst devise the Snake; For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd, Man's Forgiveness give--and take! KUZA--NAMA. ("Book of Pots") LIX. Listen again. One Evening at the Close Of Ramazan, ere the better Moon arose, In that old Potter's Shop I stood alone With the clay Population round in Rows. LX. And strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot Some could articulate, while others not: And suddenly one more impatient cried-- "Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?" LXI. Then said another--"Surely not in vain My substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to common Earth again." LXII. Another said--"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy; Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love And Fansy, in an after Rage destroy!" LXIII. None answer'd this; but after Silence spake A Vessel of a more ungainly Make: "They sneer at me for leaning all awry; What? did the Hand then of the Potter shake?" LXIV. Said one--"Folks of a surly Tapster tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; They talk of some strict Testing of us--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." LXV. Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh, "My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: But, fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!" LXVI. So, while the Vessels one by one were speaking, One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creaking!" ***** LXVII. Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the life has died, And in a Windingsheet of Vineleaf wrapt, So bury me by some sweet Gardenside. LXVIII. That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air, As not a True Believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware. LXIX. Indeed, the Idols I have loved so long Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong: Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup, And sold my Reputation for a Song. LXX. Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore--but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My thread-bare Penitence a-pieces tore. LXXI. And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell. LXXII. Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows! LXXIII. Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire! LXXIV. Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again: How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me--in vain! LXXV. And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on The Grass, And in Thy joyous Errand reach the Spot Where I made one--turn down an empty Glass! TAMAM SHUD. Fifth Edition I. WAKE! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light. II. Before the phantom of False morning died, Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried, "When all the Temple is prepared within, "Why nods the drowsy Worshiper outside?" III. And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door! "You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." IV. Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. V. Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows. VI. And David's lips are lockt; but in divine High-piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! "Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose That sallow cheek of hers to' incarnadine. VII. Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing. VIII. Whether at Naishapur or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one. IX. Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say: Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? And this first Summer month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away. X. Well, let it take them! What have we to do With Kaikobad the Great, or Kaikhosru? Let Zal and Rustum bluster as they will, Or Hatim call to Supper--heed not you. XI. With me along the strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot-- And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne! XII. A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! XIII. Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! XIV. Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo, Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow, At once the silken tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." XV. And those who husbanded the Golden grain, And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again. XVI. The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two--is gone. XVII. Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp Abode his destined Hour, and went his way. XVIII. They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep: And Bahram, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. XIX. I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. XX. And this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean-- Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! XXI. Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears: To-morrow--Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years. XXII. For some we loved, the loveliest and the best That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest. XXIII. And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? XXIV. Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End! XXV. Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after some TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries, "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There." XXVI. Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so wisely--they are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. XXVII. Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same door where in I went. XXVIII. With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-- "I came like Water, and like Wind I go." XXIX. Into this Universe, and Why not knowing Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing. XXX. What, without asking, hither hurried Whence? And, without asking, Whither hurried hence! Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine Must drown the memory of that insolence! XXXI. Up from Earth's Center through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. XXXII. There was the Door to which I found no Key; There was the Veil through which I might not see: Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was--and then no more of THEE and ME. XXXIII. Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn In flowing Purple, of their Lord Forlorn; Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal'd And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. XXXIV. Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find A lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard, As from Without--"THE ME WITHIN THEE BLIND!" XXXV. Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live, "Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return." XXXVI. I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And drink; and Ah! the passive Lip I kiss'd, How many Kisses might it take--and give! XXXVII. For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!" XXXVIII. And has not such a Story from of Old Down Man's successive generations roll'd Of such a clod of saturated Earth Cast by the Maker into Human mold? XXXIX. And not a drop that from our Cups we throw For Earth to drink of, but may steal below To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden--far beneath, and long ago. XL. As then the Tulip for her morning sup Of Heav'nly Vintage from the soil looks up, Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n To Earth invert you--like an empty Cup. XLI. Perplext no more with Human or Divine, To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, And lose your fingers in the tresses of The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. XLII. And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Think then you are TO-DAY what YESTERDAY You were--TO-MORROW you shall not be less. XLIII. So when that Angel of the darker Drink At last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink. XLIV. Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him In this clay carcass crippled to abide? XLV. 'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest; The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. XLVI. And fear not lest Existence closing your Account, and mine, should know the like no more; The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. XLVII. When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast. XLVIII. A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste-- And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd The NOTHING it set out from--Oh, make haste! XLIX. Would you that spangle of Existence spend About THE SECRET--quick about it, Friend! A Hair perhaps divides the False from True-- And upon what, prithee, may life depend? L. A Hair perhaps divides the False and True; Yes; and a single Alif were the clue-- Could you but find it--to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too; LI. Whose secret Presence through Creation's veins Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains; Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi and They change and perish all--but He remains; LII. A moment guessed--then back behind the Fold Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd Which, for the Pastime of Eternity, He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. LIII. But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door, You gaze TO-DAY, while You are You--how then TO-MORROW, when You shall be You no more? LIV. Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit Of This and That endeavor and dispute; Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. LV. You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. LVI. For "Is" and "Is-not" though with Rule and Line And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define, Of all that one should care to fathom, I was never deep in anything but--Wine. LVII. Ah, by my Computations, People say, Reduce the Year to better reckoning?--Nay, 'Twas only striking from the Calendar Unborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday. LVIII. And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape! LIX. The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute; LX. The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword. LXI. Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare? A Blessing, we should use it, should we not? And if a Curse--why, then, Who set it there? LXII. I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust, Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, To fill the Cup--when crumbled into Dust! LXIII. Of threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain--This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. LXIV. Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road, Which to discover we must travel too. LXV. The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd. LXVI. I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return'd to me, And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell:" LXVII. Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire, Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, So late emerged from, shall so soon expire. LXVIII. We are no other than a moving row Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show; LXIX. But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. LXX. The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd you down into the Field, He knows about it all--HE knows--HE knows! LXXI. The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. LXXII. And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help--for It As impotently moves as you or I. LXXIII. With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. LXXIV. YESTERDAY This Day's Madness did prepare; TO-MORROW's Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you not know whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. LXXV. I tell you this--When, started from the Goal, Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung, In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul. LXXVI. The Vine had struck a fiber: which about It clings my Being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key That shall unlock the Door he howls without. LXXVII. And this I know: whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One Flash of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. LXXVIII. What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke A conscious Something to resent the yoke Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke! LXXIX. What! from his helpless Creature be repaid Pure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay'd-- Sue for a Debt he never did contract, And cannot answer--Oh the sorry trade! LXXX. Oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin! LXXXI. Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take! ***** LXXXII. As under cover of departing Day Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazan away, Once more within the Potter's house alone I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay. LXXXIII. Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small, That stood along the floor and by the wall; And some loquacious Vessels were; and some Listen'd perhaps, but never talk'd at all. LXXXIV. Said one among them--"Surely not in vain My substance of the common Earth was ta'en And to this Figure molded, to be broke, Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again." LXXXV. Then said a Second--"Ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy; And He that with his hand the Vessel made Will surely not in after Wrath destroy." LXXXVI. After a momentary silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry: What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?" LXXXVII. Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot-- I think a Sufi pipkin--waxing hot-- "All this of Pot and Potter--Tell me then, Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?" LXXXVIII. "Why," said another, "Some there are who tell Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell The luckless Pots he marr'd in making--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." LXXXIX. "Well," murmured one, "Let whoso make or buy, My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry: But fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by and by." XC. So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, The little Moon look'd in that all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! Now for the Porter's shoulders' knot a-creaking!" ***** XCI. Ah, with the Grape my fading life provide, And wash the Body whence the Life has died, And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf, By some not unfrequented Garden-side. XCII. That ev'n buried Ashes such a snare Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air As not a True-believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware. XCIII. Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my credit in this World much wrong: Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup, And sold my reputation for a Song. XCIV. Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore--but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. XCV. And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honor--Well, I wonder often what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell. XCVI. Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows! XCVII. Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd, To which the fainting Traveler might spring, As springs the trampled herbage of the field! XCVIII. Would but some winged Angel ere too late Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate, And make the stern Recorder otherwise Enregister, or quite obliterate! XCIX. Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's Desire! C. Yon rising Moon that looks for us again-- How oft hereafter will she wax and wane; How oft hereafter rising look for us Through this same Garden--and for one in vain! CI. And when like her, oh Saki, you shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in your joyous errand reach the spot Where I made One--turn down an empty Glass! TAMAM. Notes: [The references are, except in the first note only, to the stanzas of the Fifth edition.] (Stanza I.) Flinging a Stone into the Cup was the signal for "To Horse!" in the Desert. (II.) The "False Dawn"; Subhi Kazib, a transient Light on the Horizon about an hour before the Subhi sadik or True Dawn; a well-known Phenomenon in the East. (IV.) New Year. Beginning with the Vernal Equinox, it must be remembered; and (howsoever the old Solar Year is practically superseded by the clumsy Lunar Year that dates from the Mohammedan Hijra) still commemorated by a Festival that is said to have been appointed by the very Jamshyd whom Omar so often talks of, and whose yearly Calendar he helped to rectify. "The sudden approach and rapid advance of the Spring," says Mr. Binning, "are very striking. Before the Snow is well off the Ground, the Trees burst into Blossom, and the Flowers start from the Soil. At Naw Rooz (their New Year's Day) the Snow was lying in patches on the Hills and in the shaded Vallies, while the Fruit-trees in the Garden were budding beautifully, and green Plants and Flowers springing upon the Plains on every side-- 'And on old Hyems' Chin and icy Crown An odorous Chaplet of sweet Summer buds Is, as in mockery, set--'-- Among the Plants newly appear'd I recognized some Acquaintances I had not seen for many a Year: among these, two varieties of the Thistle; a coarse species of the Daisy, like the Horse-gowan; red and white clover; the Dock; the blue Cornflower; and that vulgar Herb the Dandelion rearing its yellow crest on the Banks of the Water-courses." The Nightingale was not yet heard, for the Rose was not yet blown: but an almost identical Blackbird and Woodpecker helped to make up something of a North-country Spring. "The White Hand of Moses." Exodus iv. 6; where Moses draws forth his Hand--not, according to the Persians, "leprous as Snow," but white, as our May-blossom in Spring perhaps. According to them also the Healing Power of Jesus resided in his Breath. (V.) Iram, planted by King Shaddad, and now sunk somewhere in the Sands of Arabia. Jamshyd's Seven-ring'd Cup was typical of the 7 Heavens, 7 Planets, 7 Seas, &c., and was a Divining Cup. (VI.) Pehlevi, the old Heroic Sanskrit of Persia. Hafiz also speaks of the Nightingale's Pehlevi, which did not change with the People's. I am not sure if the fourth line refers to the Red Rose looking sickly, or to the Yellow Rose that ought to be Red; Red, White, and Yellow Roses all common in Persia. I think that Southey in his Common- Place Book, quotes from some Spanish author about the Rose being White till 10 o'clock; "Rosa Perfecta" at 2; and "perfecta incarnada" at 5. (X.) Rustum, the "Hercules" of Persia, and Zal his Father, whose exploits are among the most celebrated in the Shahnama. Hatim Tai, a well-known type of Oriental Generosity. (XIII.) A Drum--beaten outside a Palace. (XIV.) That is, the Rose's Golden Centre. (XVIII.) Persepolis: call'd also Takht-i-Jam-shyd--THE THRONE OF JAMSHYD, "King Splendid," of the mythical Peshdadian Dynasty, and supposed (according to the Shah-nama) to have been founded and built by him. Others refer it to the Work of the Genie King, Jan Ibn Jan--who also built the Pyramids--before the time of Adam. BAHRAM GUR.--Bahram of the Wild Ass--a Sassanian Sovereign--had also his Seven Castles (like the King of Bohemia!) each of a different Colour: each with a Royal Mistress within; each of whom tells him a Story, as told in one of the most famous Poems of Persia, written by Amir Khusraw: all these Sevens also figuring (according to Eastern Mysticism) the Seven Heavens; and perhaps the Book itself that Eighth, into which the mystical Seven transcend, and within which they revolve. The Ruins of Three of those Towers are yet shown by the Peasantry; as also the Swamp in which Bahram sunk, like the Master of Ravenswood, while pursuing his Gur. The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw, And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew-- I saw the solitary Ringdove there, And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo." [Included in Nicolas's edition as No. 350 of the Rubaiyat, and also in Mr. Whinfield's translation.] This Quatrain Mr. Binning found, among several of Hafiz and others, inscribed by some stray hand among the ruins of Persepolis. The Ringdove's ancient Pehlevi Coo, Coo, Coo, signifies also in Persian "Where? Where? Where?" In Attar's "Bird-parliament" she is reproved by the Leader of the Birds for sitting still, and for ever harping on that one note of lamentation for her lost Yusuf. Apropos of Omar's Red Roses in Stanza xix, I am reminded of an old English Superstition, that our Anemone Pulsatilla, or purple "Pasque Flower," (which grows plentifully about the Fleam Dyke, near Cambridge,) grows only where Danish Blood has been spilt. (XXI.) A thousand years to each Planet. (XXXI.) Saturn, Lord of the Seventh Heaven. (XXXII.) ME-AND-THEE: some dividual Existence or Personality distinct from the Whole. (XXXVII.) One of the Persian Poets--Attar, I think--has a pretty story about this. A thirsty Traveller dips his hand into a Spring of Water to drink from. By-and-by comes another who draws up and drinks from an earthen bowl, and then departs, leaving his Bowl behind him. The first Traveller takes it up for another draught; but is surprised to find that the same Water which had tasted sweet from his own hand tastes bitter from the earthen Bowl. But a Voice--from Heaven, I think--tells him the clay from which the Bowl is made was once Man; and, into whatever shape renew'd, can never lose the bitter flavour of Mortality. (XXXIX.) The custom of throwing a little Wine on the ground before drinking still continues in Persia, and perhaps generally in the East. Mons. Nicolas considers it "un signe de liberalite, et en meme temps un avertissement que le buveur doit vider sa coupe jusqu'a la derniere goutte." Is it not more likely an ancient Superstition; a Libation to propitiate Earth, or make her an Accomplice in the illicit Revel? Or, perhaps, to divert the Jealous Eye by some sacrifice of superfluity, as with the Ancients of the West? With Omar we see something more is signified; the precious Liquor is not lost, but sinks into the ground to refresh the dust of some poor Wine-worshipper foregone. Thus Hafiz, copying Omar in so many ways: "When thou drinkest Wine pour a draught on the ground. Wherefore fear the Sin which brings to another Gain?" (XLIII.) According to one beautiful Oriental Legend, Azrael accomplishes his mission by holding to the nostril an Apple from the Tree of Life. This, and the two following Stanzas would have been withdrawn, as somewhat de trop, from the Text, but for advice which I least like to disregard. (LI.) From Mah to Mahi; from Fish to Moon. (LVI.) A Jest, of course, at his Studies. A curious mathematical Quatrain of Omar's has been pointed out to me; the more curious because almost exactly parallel'd by some Verses of Doctor Donne's, that are quoted in Izaak Walton's Lives! Here is Omar: "You and I are the image of a pair of compasses; though we have two heads (sc. our feet) we have one body; when we have fixed the centre for our circle, we bring our heads (sc. feet) together at the end." Dr. Donne: If we be two, we two are so As stiff twin-compasses are two; Thy Soul, the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but does if the other do. And though thine in the centre sit, Yet when my other far does roam, Thine leans and hearkens after it, And rows erect as mine comes home. Such thou must be to me, who must Like the other foot obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And me to end where I begun. (LIX.) The Seventy-two Religions supposed to divide the World, including Islamism, as some think: but others not. (LX.) Alluding to Sultan Mahmud's Conquest of India and its dark people. (LXVIII.) Fanusi khiyal, a Magic-lanthorn still used in India; the cylindrical Interior being painted with various Figures, and so lightly poised and ventilated as to revolve round the lighted Candle within. (LXX.) A very mysterious Line in the Original: O danad O danad O danad O-- breaking off something like our Wood-pigeon's Note, which she is said to take up just where she left off. (LXXV.) Parwin and Mushtari--The Pleiads and Jupiter. (LXXXVII.) This Relation of Pot and Potter to Man and his Maker figures far and wide in the Literature of the World, from the time of the Hebrew Prophets to the present; when it may finally take the name of "Pot theism," by which Mr. Carlyle ridiculed Sterling's "Pantheism." My Sheikh, whose knowledge flows in from all quarters, writes to me-- "Apropos of old Omar's Pots, did I ever tell you the sentence I found in 'Bishop Pearson on the Creed'? 'Thus are we wholly at the disposal of His will, and our present and future condition framed and ordered by His free, but wise and just, decrees. Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour? (Rom. ix. 21.) And can that earth-artificer have a freer power over his brother potsherd (both being made of the same metal), than God hath over him, who, by the strange fecundity of His omnipotent power, first made the clay out of nothing, and then him out of that?'" And again--from a very different quarter--"I had to refer the other day to Aristophanes, and came by chance on a curious Speaking-pot story in the Vespae, which I had quite forgotten. [Greek text deleted from etext.] "The Pot calls a bystander to be a witness to his bad treatment. The woman says, 'If, by Proserpine, instead of all this 'testifying' (comp. Cuddie and his mother in 'Old Mortality!') you would buy yourself a rivet, it would show more sense in you!' The Scholiast explains echinus as [Greek phrase deleted from etext]." One more illustration for the oddity's sake from the "Autobiography of a Cornish Rector," by the late James Hamley Tregenna. 1871. "There was one odd Fellow in our Company--he was so like a Figure in the 'Pilgrim's Progress' that Richard always called him the 'ALLEGORY,' with a long white beard--a rare Appendage in those days--and a Face the colour of which seemed to have been baked in, like the Faces one used to see on Earthenware Jugs. In our Country- dialect Earthenware is called 'Clome'; so the Boys of the Village used to shout out after him--'Go back to the Potter, Old Clomeface, and get baked over again.' For the 'Allegory,' though shrewd enough in most things, had the reputation of being 'saift-baked,' i.e., of weak intellect." (XC.) At the Close of the Fasting Month, Ramazan (which makes the Mussulman unhealthy and unamiable), the first Glimpse of the New Moon (who rules their division of the Year) is looked for with the utmost Anxiety, and hailed with Acclamation. Then it is that the Porter's Knot maybe heard--toward the Cellar. Omar has elsewhere a pretty Quatrain about the same Moon-- "Be of Good Cheer--the sullen Month will die, And a young Moon requite us by and by: Look how the Old one meagre, bent, and wan With Age and Fast, is fainting from the Sky!" 
11894	----	The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 3 VANA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] THE MAHABHARATA VANA PARVA PART 1 SECTION I (Aranyaka Parva) Om! Having bowed down to Narayana, and Nara the foremost of male beings, and the goddess Saraswati also, must the word _Jaya_ be uttered. Janamejaya said, "O thou foremost of regenerate ones, deceitfully defeated at dice by the sons of Dhritarashtra and their counsellors, incensed by those wicked ones that thus brought about a fierce animosity, and addressed in language that was so cruel, what did the Kuru princes, my ancestors--the sons of Pritha--(then) do? How also did the sons of Pritha, equal unto Sakra in prowess, deprived of affluence and suddenly overwhelmed with misery, pass their days in the forest? Who followed the steps of those princes plunged in excess of affliction? And how did those high souled ones bear themselves and derive their sustenance, and where did they put up? And, O illustrious ascetic and foremost of Brahmanas, how did those twelve years (of exile) of those warriors who were slayers of foes, pass away in the forest? And undeserving of pain, how did that princess, the best of her sex, devoted to her husbands, eminently virtuous, and always speaking the truth, endure that painful exile in the forest? O thou of ascetic wealth tell me all this in detail, for, O Brahmana, I desire to hear thee narrate the history of those heroes possessed of abundant prowess and lustre. Truly my curiosity is great." Vaisampayana said, "Thus defeated at dice and incensed by the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra and their counsellors, the sons of Pritha set out from Hastinapura. And issuing through _Vardhamana_ gate of the city, the Pandavas bearing their weapons and accompanied by Draupadi set out in a northerly direction. Indrasena and others, with servants numbering altogether fourteen, with their wives, followed them on swift cars. And the citizens learning of their departure became overwhelmed with sorrow, and began to censure Bhishma and Vidura and Drona and Gautama. And having met together they thus addressed one another fearlessly. "'Alas, our families, we ourselves, and our homes are all gone, when the wicked Duryodhana, backed by the son of Suvala, by Karna and Dussasana, aspireth to this kingdom. And, Oh, our families, our (ancestral) usages, our virtue and prosperity, are all doomed where this sinful wretch supported by wretches as sinful aspireth to the kingdom! And, Oh, how can happiness be there where these are not! Duryodhana beareth malice towards all superiors, hath taken leave of good conduct, and quarreleth with those that are near to him in blood. Covetous and vain and mean, he is cruel by nature. The whole earth is doomed when Duryodhana becometh its ruler. Thither, therefore, let us proceed whither the merciful and high-minded sons of Pandu with passions under control and victorious over foes, and possessed of modesty and renown, and devoted to pious practices, repair!'" Vaisampayana said, "And saying this, the citizens went after the Pandavas, and having met them, they all, with joined hands, thus addressed the sons of Kunti and Madri. "'Blest be ye! Where will ye go, leaving us in grief? We will follow you whithersoever ye will go! Surely have we been distressed upon learning that ye have been deceitfully vanquished by relentless enemies! It behoveth you not to forsake us that are your loving subjects and devoted friends always seeking your welfare and employed in doing what is agreeable to you! We desire not to be overwhelmed in certain destruction living in the dominions of the Kuru king. Ye bulls among men, listen as we indicate the merits and demerits springing respectively from association with what is good and bad! As cloth, water, the ground, and sesame seeds are perfumed by association with flowers, even so are qualities ever the product of association. Verily association with fools produceth an illusion that entangleth the mind, as daily communion with the good and the wise leadeth to the practice of virtue. Therefore, they that desire emancipation should associate with those that are wise and old and honest and pure in conduct and possessed of ascetic merit. They should be waited upon whose triple possessions, _viz_., knowledge (of the _Vedas_), origin and acts, are all pure, and association with them is even superior to (the study of the) scriptures. Devoid of the religious acts as we are, we shall yet reap religious merit by association with the righteous, as we should come by sin by waiting upon the sinful. The very sight and touch of the dishonest, and converse and association with them, cause diminution of virtue, and men (that are doomed to these), never attain purity of mind. Association with the base impaireth the understanding, as, indeed, with the indifferent maketh it indifferent, while communion with the good ever exalteth it. All those attributes which are spoken of in the world as the sources of religious merit, of worldly prosperity and sensual pleasures, which are regarded by the people, extolled in the _Vedas_, and approved by the well-behaved, exist in you, separately and jointly! Therefore, desirous of our own welfare, we wish to live amongst you who possess those attributes!' "Yudhishthira said, 'Blessed are we since the people with the Brahmanas at their head, moved by affection and compassion credit us with merits we have not. I, however, with my brothers, would ask all of you to do one thing. Ye should not, through affection and pity for us, act otherwise! Our grandfather Bhishma, the king (Dhritarashtra), Vidura, my mother and most of my well-wishers, are all in the city of Hastinapura. Therefore, if ye are minded to seek our welfare, cherish ye them with care, uniting together as they are overwhelmed with sorrow and afflictions. Grieved at our departure, ye have come far! Go ye back, and let your hearts be directed with tenderness towards the relatives I entrust to you as pledges! This, of all others, is the one act upon which my heart is set, and by doing this ye would give me great satisfaction and pay me your best regards!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus exhorted by Yudhishthira the just, the people in a body set up a loud wail exclaiming,--_Alas, O king!_ And afflicted and overwhelmed with sorrow on remembering the virtues of Pritha's son, they unwillingly retraced their steps asking leave of the Pandavas. "The citizens having ceased to follow, the Pandavas ascended their cars, and setting out reached (the site of) the mighty banian tree called _Pramana_ on the banks of the Ganges. And reaching the site of the banian tree about the close of the day, the heroic sons of Pandu purified themselves by touching the sacred water, and passed the night there. And afflicted with woe they spent that night taking water alone as their sole sustenance. Certain Brahmanas belonging to both classes, _viz_., those that maintained the sacrificial fire and those that maintained it not, who had, with their disciples and relatives, out of affection followed the Pandavas thither also passed the night with them. And surrounded by those utterers of _Brahma_, the king shone resplendent in their midst. And that evening, at once beautiful and terrible, those Brahmanas having lighted their (sacred) fires, began to chant the _Vedas_ and hold mutual converse. And those foremost of Brahmanas, with swan-sweet voices spent the night, comforting that best of Kurus--the king." SECTION II Vaisampayana said, "When that night passed away and day broke in, those Brahmanas who supported themselves by mendicancy, stood before the Pandavas of exalted deeds, who were about to enter the forest. Then king Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, addressed them, saying, 'Robbed of our prosperity and kingdom, robbed of everything, we are about to enter the deep woods in sorrow, depending for our food on fruits and roots, and the produce of the chase. The forest too is full of dangers, and abounds with reptiles and beasts of prey. It appeareth to me that ye will certainly have to suffer much privation and misery there. The sufferings of the Brahmanas might overpower even the gods. That they would overwhelm me is too certain. Therefore, O Brahmana, go ye back whithersoever ye list!' "The Brahmanas replied, 'O king, our path is even that on which ye are for setting out! It behoveth thee not, therefore, to forsake us who are thy devoted admirers practising the true religion! The very gods have compassion upon their worshippers,--specially upon Brahmanas of regulated lives!' "Yudhishthira said, 'Ye regenerate ones, I too am devoted to the Brahmanas! But this destitution that hath overtaken me overwhelmed me with confusion! These my brothers that are to procure fruits and roots and the deer (of the forest) are stupefied with grief arising from their afflictions and on account of the distress of Draupadi and the loss of our kingdom! Alas, as they are distressed, I cannot employ them in painful tasks!' "The Brahmanas said, 'Let no anxiety, O king, in respect of our maintenance, find a place in thy heart! Ourselves providing our own food, we shall follow thee, and by meditation and saying our prayers we shall compass thy welfare while by pleasant converse we shall entertain thee and be cheered ourselves.' "Yudhishthira said, 'Without doubt, it must be as ye say, for I am ever pleased with the company of the regenerate ones! But my fallen condition maketh me behold in myself an object of reproach! How shall I behold you all, that do not deserve to bear trouble, out of love for me painfully subsisting upon food procured by your own toil? Oh, fie upon the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Saying this, the weeping king sat himself down upon the ground. Then a learned Brahmana, Saunaka by name versed in self-knowledge and skilled in the _Sankhya_ system of yoga, addressed the king, saying, 'Causes of grief by thousands, and causes of fear by hundreds, day after day, overwhelm the ignorant but not the wise. Surely, sensible men like thee never suffer themselves to be deluded by acts that are opposed to true knowledge, fraught with every kind of evil, and destructive of salvation. O king, in thee dwelleth that understanding furnished with the eight attributes which is said to be capable of providing against all evils and which resulteth from a study of the _Sruti (Vedas)_ and scriptures! And men like unto thee are never stupefied, on the accession of poverty or an affliction overtaking their friends, through bodily or mental uneasiness! Listen, I shall tell the _slokas_ which were chanted of old by the illustrious Janaka touching the subject of controlling the self! This world is afflicted with both bodily and mental suffering. Listen now to the means of allaying it as I indicate them both briefly and in detail. Disease, contact with painful things, toil and want of objects desired.--these are the four causes that induce bodily suffering. And as regards disease, it may be allayed by the application of medicine, while mental ailments are cured by seeking to forget them by _yoga_-meditation. For this reason, sensible physicians first seek to allay the mental sufferings of their patients by agreeable converse and the offer of desirable objects. And as a hot iron bar thrust into a jar maketh the water therein hot, even so doth mental grief bring on bodily agony. And as water quencheth fire, so doth true knowledge allay mental disquietude. And the mind attaining ease, the body findeth ease also. It seemeth that affection is the root of all mental sorrow. It is affection that maketh every creature miserable and bringeth on every kind of woe. Verily affection is the root of all misery and of all fear, of joy and grief of every kind of pain. From affection spring all purposes, and it is from affection that spring the love of worldly goods! Both of these (latter) are sources of evil, though the first (our purposes) is worse than the second. And as (a small portion of) fire thrust into the hollow of a tree consumeth the tree itself to its roots, even so affection, ever so little, destroyeth both virtue and profit. He cannot be regarded to have renounced the world who hath merely withdrawn from worldly possessions. He, however, who though in actual contact with the world regardeth its faults, may be said to have truly renounced the world. Freed from every evil passion, soul dependent on nothing with such a one hath truly renounced the world. Therefore, should no one seek to place his affections on either friends or the wealth he hath earned. And so should affection for one's own person be extinguished by knowledge. Like the lotus-leaf that is never drenched by water, the souls of men capable of distinguishing between the ephemeral and the everlasting, of men devoted to the pursuit of the eternal, conversant with the scriptures and purified by knowledge, can never be moved by affection. The man that is influenced by affection is tortured by desire; and from the desire that springeth up in his heart his thirst for worldly possessions increaseth. Verily, this thirst is sinful and is regarded as the source of all anxieties. It is this terrible thirst, fraught with sin that leaneth unto unrighteous acts. Those find happiness that can renounce this thirst, which can never be renounced by the wicked, which decayeth not with the decay of the body, and which is truly a fatal disease! It hath neither beginning nor end. Dwelling within the heart, it destroyeth creatures, like a fire of incorporeal origin. And as a faggot of wood is consumed by the fire that is fed by itself, even so doth a person of impure soul find destruction from the covetousness born of his heart. And as creatures endued with life have ever a dread of death, so men of wealth are in constant apprehension of the king and the thief, of water and fire and even of their relatives. And as a morsel of meat, if in air, may be devoured by birds; if on ground by beasts of prey; and if in water by the fishes; even so is the man of wealth exposed to dangers wherever he may be. To many the wealth they own is their bane, and he that beholding happiness in wealth becometh wedded to it, and knoweth not true happiness. And hence accession of wealth is viewed as that which increaseth covetousness and folly. Wealth alone is the root of niggardliness and boastfulness, pride and fear and anxiety! These are the miseries of men that the wise see in riches! Men undergo infinite miseries in the acquisition and retention of wealth. Its expenditure also is fraught with grief. Nay, sometimes, life itself is lost for the sake of wealth! The abandonment of wealth produces misery, and even they that are cherished by one's wealth become enemies for the sake of that wealth! When, therefore, the possession of wealth is fraught with such misery, one should not mind its loss. It is the ignorant alone who are discontented. The wise, however, are always content. The thirst of wealth can never be assuaged. Contentment is the highest happiness; therefore, it is, that the wise regard contentment as the highest object of pursuit. The wise knowing the instability of youth and beauty, of life and treasure-hoards, of prosperity and the company of the loved ones, never covet them. Therefore, one should refrain from the acquisition of wealth, bearing the pain incident to it. None that is rich is free from trouble, and it is for this that the virtuous applaud them that are free from the desire of wealth. And as regards those that pursue wealth for purposes of virtue, it is better for them to refrain altogether from such pursuit, for, surely, it is better not to touch mire at all than to wash it off after having been besmeared with it. And, O Yudhishthira, it behoveth thee not to covet anything! And if thou wouldst have virtue, emancipate thyself from desire of worldly possessions!' "Yudhishthira said, 'O Brahmana, this my desire of wealth is not for enjoying it when obtained. It is only for the support of the Brahmanas that I desire it and not because I am actuated by avarice! For what purpose, O Brahmana, doth one like us lead a domestic life, if he cannot cherish and support those that follow him? All creatures are seen to divide the food (they procure) amongst those that depend on them.[1] So should a person leading a domestic life give a share of his food to _Yatis_ and _Brahmacharins_ that have renounced cooking for themselves. The houses of the good men can never be in want of grass (for seat), space (for rest), water (to wash and assuage thirst), and fourthly, sweet words. To the weary a bed,--to one fatigued with standing, a seat,--to the thirsty, water,--and to the hungry, food should ever be given. To a guest are due pleasant looks and a cheerful heart and sweet words. The host, rising up, should advance towards the guest, offer him a seat, and duly worship him. Even this is eternal morality. They that perform not the _Agnihotra_,[2] do not wait upon bulls, nor cherish their kinsmen and guests and friends and sons and wives and servants, are consumed with sin for such neglect. None should cook his food for himself alone and none should slay an animal without dedicating it to the gods, the _pitris_, and guests. Nor should one eat of that food which hath not been duly dedicated to the gods and _pitris_. By scattering food on the earth, morning and evening, for (the behoof of) dogs and _Chandalas_ and birds, should a person perform the _Viswedeva_ sacrifice.[3] He that eateth the _Vighasa_, is regarded as eating ambrosia. What remaineth in a sacrifice after dedication to the gods and the _pitris_ is regarded as ambrosia; and what remaineth after feeding the guest is called _Vighasa_ and is equivalent to ambrosia itself. Feeding a guest is equivalent to a sacrifice, and the pleasant looks the host casteth upon the guest, the attention he devoteth to him, the sweet words in which he addresseth him, the respect he payeth by following him, and the food and drink with which he treateth him, are the five _Dakshinas_[4] in that sacrifice. He who giveth without stint food to a fatigued wayfarer never seen before, obtaineth merit that is great, and he who leading a domestic life, followeth such practices, acquireth religious merit that is said to be very great. O Brahmana, what is thy opinion on this?' [1] This seems to be the obvious. There is a different reading however. For _Drie-cyate_--seen, some texts have _Sasyate_--applauded. Nilakantha imagines that the meaning is "As distribution (of food) amongst the various classes of beings like the gods, the _Pitris_, &c., is applauded &c., &c." [2] A form of sacrifice which consists in pouring oblations of clarified butter with prayers into a blazing fire. It is obligatory on Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, except those that accept certain vows of great austerity. [3] The Viswedeva sacrifice is the offer of food to all creatures of the earth (by scattering a portion). [4] A gift. It may be of various kinds. The fees paid to Brahmanas assisting at sacrifices and religious rites, such as offering oblations to the dead, are _Dakshinas_, as also gifts to Brahmanas on other occasions particularly when they are fed, it being to this day the custom never to feed a Brahmana without paying him a pecuniary fee. There can be no sacrifice, no religious rite, without _Dakshina_. "Saunaka said, 'Alas, this world is full of contradictions! That which shameth the good, gratifieth the wicked! Alas, moved by ignorance and passion and slaves of their own senses, even fools perform many acts of (apparent merit) to gratify in after-life their appetites! With eyes open are these men led astray by their seducing senses, even as a charioteer, who hath lost his senses, by restive and wicked steeds! When any of the six senses findeth its particular object, the desire springeth up in the heart to enjoy that particular object. And thus when one's heart proceedeth to enjoy the objects of any particular sense a wish is entertained which in its turn giveth birth to a resolve. And finally, like unto an insect falling into a flame from love of light, the man falleth into the fire of temptation, pierced by the shafts of the object of enjoyment discharged by the desire constituting the seed of the resolve! And thenceforth blinded by sensual pleasure which he seeketh without stint, and steeped in dark ignorance and folly which he mistaketh for a state of happiness, he knoweth not himself! And like unto a wheel that is incessantly rolling, every creature, from ignorance and deed and desire, falleth into various states in this world, wandering from one birth to another, and rangeth the entire circle of existences from a _Brahma_ to the point of a blade of grass, now in water, now on land, and now against in the air! "'This then is the career of those that are without knowledge. Listen now to the course of the wise they that are intent on profitable virtue, and are desirous of emancipation! The _Vedas_ enjoin act but _renounce_ (interest in) action. Therefore, shouldst thou act, renouncing _Abhimana_,[5] performance of sacrifices, study (of the _Vedas_), gifts, penance, truth (in both speech and act), forgiveness, subduing the senses, and renunciation of desire,--these have been declared to be the eight (cardinal) duties constituting the true path. Of these, the four first pave the way to the world of the _pitris_. And these should be practised without _Abhimana_. The four last are always observed by the pious, to attain the heaven of the gods. And the pure in spirit should ever follow these eight paths. Those who wish to subdue the world for purpose of salvation, should ever act fully renouncing motives, effectually subduing their senses, rigidly observing particular vows, devotedly serving their preceptors, austerely regulating their fare, diligently studying the _Vedas_, renouncing action as mean and restraining their hearts. By renouncing desire and aversion the gods have attained prosperity. It is by virtue of their wealth of yoga[6] that the _Rudras_, and the _Sadhyas_, and the _Adityas_ and the _Vasus_, and the twin _Aswins_, rule the creatures. Therefore, O son of Kunti, like unto them, do thou, O Bharata, entirely refraining from action with motive, strive to attain success in _yoga_ and by ascetic austerities. Thou hast already achieved such success so far as thy debts to thy ancestors, both male and female concerned, and that success also which is derived from action (sacrifices). Do thou, for serving the regenerate ones endeavour to attain success in penances. Those that are crowned with ascetic success, can, by virtue of that success, do whatever they list; do thou, therefore, practising asceticism realise all thy wishes.'" [5] Reference to self, i.e. without the motive of bettering one's own self, or without any motive at all. (This contains the germ of the doctrine preached more elaborately in the _Bhagavad gita_.) [6] This _Yoga_ consists, in their case, of a combination of attributes by negation of the contrary ones, i.e. by renunciation of motives in all they do. SECTION III Vaisampayana said, "Yudhishthira the son of Kunti, thus addressed by Saunaka, approached his priest and in the midst of his brothers said, 'The Brahmanas versed in the _Vedas_ are following me who am departing for the forest. Afflicted with many calamities I am unable to support them. I cannot abandon them, nor have I the power to offer them sustenance: Tell me, O holy one, what should be done by me in such a pass.'" Vaisampayana said, "After reflecting for a moment seeking to find out the (proper) course by his _yoga_ powers, Dhaumya, that foremost of all virtuous men, addressed Yudhishthira, in these words, 'In days of old, all living beings that had been created were sorely afflicted with hunger. And like a father (unto all of them), _Savita_ (the sun) took compassion upon them. And going first into the northern declension, the sun drew up water by his rays, and coming back to the southern declension, stayed over the earth, with his heat centered in himself. And while the sun so stayed over the earth, the lord of the vegetable world (the moon), converting the effects of the solar heat (vapours) into clouds and pouring them down in the shape of water, caused plants to spring up. Thus it is the sun himself, who, drenched by the lunar influence, is transformed, upon the sprouting of seeds, into holy vegetable furnished with the six tastes. And it is these which constitute the food of all creatures upon the earth. Thus the food that supporteth the lives of creatures is instinct with solar energy, and the sun is, therefore, the father of all creatures. Do thou, hence, O Yudhishthira, take refuge even in him. All illustrious monarchs of pure descent and deeds are known to have delivered their people by practising high asceticism. The great Karttavirya, and Vainya and Nahusha, had all, by virtue of ascetic meditation preceded by vows, delivered their people from heavy afflictions. Therefore, O virtuous one, as thou art purified by the acts do thou likewise, entering upon a file of austerities. O Bharata, virtuously support the regenerate ones.'" Janamejaya said, "How did that bull among the Kurus, king Yudhishthira, for the sake of the Brahmanas adore the sun of wonderful appearance?" Vaisampayana said, "Listen attentively, O king, purifying thyself and withdrawing thy mind from every other thing. And, O king of kings, appoint thou a time. I will tell thee everything in detail, And, O illustrious one, listen to the one hundred and eight names (of the sun) as they were disclosed of old by Dhaumya to the high-souled son of Pritha. Dhaumya said, 'Surya, Aryaman, Bhaga, Twastri, Pusha, Arka, Savitri, Ravi, Gabhastimat, Aja, Kala, Mrityu, Dhatri, Prabhakara, Prithibi, Apa, Teja, Kha, Vayu, the sole stay, Soma, Vrihaspati, Sukra, Budha, Angaraka, Indra, Vivaswat, Diptanshu, Suchi, Sauri, Sanaichara, Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Skanda, Vaisravana, Yama, Vaidyutagni, Jatharagni, Aindhna, Tejasampati, Dharmadhwaja, Veda-karttri, Vedanga, Vedavahana, Krita, Treta, Dwapara, Kali, full of every impurity, Kala, Kastha, Muhurtta, Kshapa, Yama, and Kshana; Samvatsara-kara, Aswattha, Kalachakra, Bibhavasu, Purusha, Saswata, Yogin, Vyaktavyakta, Sanatana, Kaladhyaksha, Prajadhyaksha, Viswakarma, Tamounda, Varuna, Sagara, Ansu, Jimuta, Jivana, Arihan, Bhutasraya, Bhutapati, Srastri, Samvartaka, Vanhi, Sarvadi, Alolupa, Ananta, Kapila, Bhanu, Kamada, Sarvatomukha, Jaya, Visata, Varada, Manas, Suparna, Bhutadi, Sighraga, Prandharana, Dhanwantari, Dhumaketu, Adideva, Aditisuta, Dwadasatman, Aravindaksha, Pitri, Matri, Pitamaha, Swarga-dwara, Prajadwara, Mokshadwara, Tripistapa, Dehakarti, Prasantatman, Viswatman, Viswatomukha, Characharatman, Sukhsmatman, the merciful Maitreya. These are the hundred and eight names of Surya of immeasurable energy, as told by the self-create (Brahma). For the acquisition of prosperity, I bow down to thee, O Bhaskara, blazing like unto gold or fire, who is worshipped of the gods and the _Pitris_ and the Yakshas, and who is adored by Asuras, Nisacharas, and Siddhas. He that with fixed attention reciteth this hymn at sunrise, obtaineth wife and offspring and riches and the memory of his former existence, and by reciting this hymn a person attaineth patience and memory. Let a man concentrating his mind, recite this hymn. By doing so, he shall be proof against grief and forest-fire and ocean and every object of desire shall be his.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having heard from Dhaumya these words suitable to the occasion, Yudhishthira the just, with heart concentrated within itself and purifying it duly, became engaged in austere meditation, moved by the desire of supporting the Brahmanas. And worshipping the maker of day with offerings of flowers and other articles, the king performed his ablutions. And standing in the stream, he turned his face towards the god of day. And touching the water of the Ganges the virtuous Yudhishthira with senses under complete control and depending upon air alone for his sustenance, stood there with rapt soul engaged in _pranayama_.[7] And having purified himself and restrained his speech, he began to sing the hymn of praise (to the sun). "Yudhishthira said, 'Thou art, O sun, the eye of the universe. Thou art the soul of all corporeal existences. Thou art the origin of all things. Thou art the embodiment of the acts of all religious men. Thou art the refuge of those versed in the _Sankhya_ philosophy (the mysteries of the soul), and thou art the support of the _Yogins_. Thou art a door unfastened with bolts. Thou art the refuge of those wishing for emancipation. Thou sustainest and discoverest the world, and sanctifiest and supportest it from pure compassion. Brahmanas versed in the _Vedas_ appearing before thee, adore thee in due time, reciting the hymns from the respective branches (of the _Vedas_) they refer. Thou art the adored of the _Rishis_. The _Siddhas_, and the _Charanas_ and the _Gandharvas_ and the _Yakshas_, and the _Guhyakas_, and the _Nagas_, desirous of obtaining boons follow thy car coursing through the skies. The thirty-three gods[8] with Upendra (Vishnu) and Mahendra, and the order of Vaimanikas[9] have attained success by worshipping thee. By offering thee garlands of the celestial _Mandaras_[10] the best of the _Vidyadharas_ have obtained all their desires. The _Guhyas_ and the seven orders of the _Pitris_--both divine and human--have attained superiority by adoring thee alone. The _Vasus_, the _Manilas_, and the _Rudras_, the _Sadhyas_, the _Marichipas_, the _Valikhilyas_, and the _Siddhas_, have attained pre-eminence by bowing down unto thee. There is nothing that I know in the entire seven worlds, including that of Brahma which is beyond thee. There are other beings both great and endued with energy; but none of them hath thy lustre and energy. All light is in thee, indeed, thou art the lord of all light. In thee are the (five) elements and all intelligence, and knowledge and asceticism and the ascetic properties.[11] The discus by which the wielder of the _Saranga_[12] humbleth the pride of Asuras and which is furnished with a beautiful nave, was forged by Viswakarman with thy energy. In summer thou drawest, by thy rays, moisture from all corporeal existences and plants and liquid substances, and pourest it down in the rainy season. Thy rays warm and scorch, and becoming as clouds roar and flash with lightning and pour down showers when the season cometh. Neither fire nor shelter, nor woolen cloths give greater comfort to one suffering from chilling blasts than thy rays. Thou illuminest by thy rays the whole Earth with her thirteen islands. Thou alone are engaged in the welfare of the three worlds. If thou dost not rise, the universe becometh blind and the learned cannot employ themselves in the attainment of virtue, wealth and profit. It is through thy grace that the (three) orders of Brahmanas, Kshatriyas and Vaisyas are able to perform their various duties and sacrifices.[13] Those versed in chronology say that thou art the beginning and thou the end of a day of Brahma, which consisteth of a full thousand _Yugas_. Thou art the lord of Manus and of the sons of the Manus, of the universe and of man, of the _Manwantaras_, and their lords. When the time of universal dissolution cometh, the fire _Samvartaka_ born of thy wrath consumeth the three worlds and existeth alone. And clouds of various hues begotten of thy rays, accompanied by the elephant Airavata and the thunderbolt, bring about the appointed deluges. And dividing thyself into twelve parts and becoming as many suns, thou drinkest up the ocean once more with thy rays. Thou art called Indra, thou art Vishnu, thou art Brahma, thou art Prajapati. Thou art fire and thou art the subtle mind. And thou art lord and the eternal _Brahma_. Thou art _Hansa_, thou art _Savitri_, thou art _Bhanu_, _Ansumalin_, and _Vrishakapi_. Thou art _Vivaswan, Mihira, Pusha, Mitra_, and _Dharma_. Thou art thousand-rayed, thou art _Aditya_, and _Tapana_, and the lord of rays. Thou art _Martanda_, and _Arka_, and _Ravi_, and _Surya_ and _Saranya_ and maker of day, and _Divakara_ and _Suptasaspti_, and _Dhumakeshin_ and _Virochana_. Thou art spoken of as swift of speed and the destroyer of darkness, and the possessor of yellow steeds. He that reverentially adoreth thee on the sixth or the seventh lunar day with humility and tranquillity of mind, obtaineth the grace of Lakshmi. They that with undivided attention adore and worship thee, are delivered from all dangers, agonies, and afflictions. And they that hold that thou art everywhere (being the soul of all things) living long, freed from sin and enjoying an immunity from all diseases. O lord of all food, it behoveth thee to grant food in abundance unto me who am desirous of food even for entertaining all my guests with reverence. I bow also to all those followers of thine that have taken refuge at thy feet--_Mathara_ and _Aruna_ and _Danda_ and others, including _Asani_ and _Kshuva_ and the others. And I bow also to the celestial mothers of all creatures, _viz_., Kshuva and _Maitri_ and the others of the class. O, let them deliver me their supplicant.'" [7] A form of _Yoga_ that is said to consist in the mingling of some of the air supposed to exist in every animal body. These airs are five: _Prana, Apana, Samana, Udana_, and _Vyana_. [8] The 8 _Vasus_, the 11 _Rudras_, the 12 _Adityas_, _Prajapati_, and _Vashatkara_. [9] An order of celestials. [10] Celestial flowers of much fragrance. [11] The ascetic properties are _Anima_, _Laghima_, etc. [12] The bow of Vishnu, as that of Siva is called _Pinaka_. [13] The words of the text are _Adhana_, _Pashubandha_, _Ishti Mantra_, _Yajana_ and _Tapa-kriya_. Vaisampayana said, "Thus, O great king, was the sun that purifier of the world, adored (by Yudhishthira). And pleased with the hymn, the maker of day, self-luminous, and blazing like fire showed himself to the son of Pandu. And Vivaswan said, 'Thou shall obtain all that thou desirest. I shall provide thee with food for five and seven years together. And, O king, accept this copper-vessel which I give unto thee. And, O thou of excellent vows, as long as Panchali will hold this vessel, without partaking of its contents fruits and roots and meat and vegetables cooked in thy kitchen, these four kinds of food shall from this day be inexhaustible. And, on the fourteenth year from this, thou shall regain thy kingdom.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, the god vanished away. He that, with the desire of obtaining a boon, reciteth this hymn concentrating his mind with ascetic abstraction, obtaineth it from the sun, however difficult of acquisition it may be that he asketh for. And the person, male or female, that reciteth or heareth this hymn day after day, if he or she desireth for a son, obtaineth one, and if riches, obtaineth them, and if learning acquireth that too. And the person male or female, that reciteth this hymn every day in the two twilights, if overtaken by danger, is delivered from it, and if bound, is freed from the bonds. Brahma himself had communicated this hymn to the illustrious Sakra, and from Sakra was it obtained by Narada and from Narada, by Dhaumya. And Yudhishthira, obtaining it from Dhaumya, attained all his wishes. And it is by virtue of this hymn that one may always obtain victory in war, and acquire immense wealth also. And it leadeth the reciter from all sins, to the solar region." Vaisampayana continued, "Having obtained the boon, the virtuous son of Kunti, rising from the water, took hold of Dhaumya's feet and then embraced his brother's. And, O exalted one, wending then with Draupadi to the kitchen, and adored by her duly, the son of Pandu set himself to cook (their day's) food. And the clean food, however little, that was dressed, furnished with the four tastes, increased and became inexhaustible. And with it Yudhishthira began to feed the regenerate ones. And after the Brahmanas had been fed, and his younger brothers also, Yudhishthira himself ate of the food that remained, and which is called _Vighasa_. And after Yudhishthira had eaten, the daughter of Prishata took what remained. And after she had taken her meal, the day's food became exhausted. "And having thus obtained the boon from the maker of day, the son of Pandu, himself as resplendent as that celestial, began to entertain the Brahmanas agreeably to their wishes. And obedient to their priest, the sons of Pritha, on auspicious lunar days and constellations and conjunctions, performed sacrifices according to the ordinance, the scriptures, and the _Mantras_. After the sacrifices, the sons of Pandu, blessed by the auspicious rites performed by Dhaumya and accompanied by him, and surrounded also by the Brahmanas set out for the woods of _Kamyaka_." SECTION IV Vaisampayana said,--"After the Pandavas had gone to the forest, Dhritarashtra the son of Amvika, whose knowledge was his eye,[14] became exceedingly sorrowful. And seated at his ease the king addressed these words to the virtuous Vidura of profound intelligence, 'Thy understanding is as clear as that of Bhargava.[15] Thou knowest also all the subtleties of morality, and thou lookest on all the Kauravas with an equal eye. O, tell me what is proper for me and them. O Vidura, things having thus taken their course, what should we do now? How may I secure the goodwill of the citizens so that they may not destroy us to the roots? O, tell us all, since thou art conversant with every excellent expedient.' [14] Dhritarashtra being blind is described as _Pragnachakshu, i.e._ having knowledge for his eye. It may also mean. "Of the prophetic eye." [15] The great preceptor of the Asuras, _viz., Sukra_, possessing the highest intelligence as evidenced by his various works on all manner of subjects particularly, the _Sukra-niti_. "Vidura said, 'The three-fold purposes, O king (_viz_., profit, pleasure, and salvation), have their foundations in virtue, and the sages say that a kingdom also standeth on virtue as its basis. Therefore, O monarch, according to the best of thy power, cherish thou virtuously thy own sons and those of Pandu. That virtue had been beguiled by wicked souls with Suvala's son at their head, when thy sons invited the righteous Yudhishthira and defeated him in the match at dice. O king, of this deed of utter iniquity I behold this expiation whereby, O chief of the Kurus, thy son, freed from sin, may win back his position among good men. Let the sons of Pandu, obtain that which was given unto them by thee. For, verily, even this is the highest morality that a king should remain content with his own, and never covet another's possessions. Thy good name then would not suffer nor would family dissensions ensue, nor unrighteousness be thine. This then is thy prime duty now,--to gratify the Pandavas and disgrace Sakuni. If thou wishest to restore to thy sons the good fortune they have lost, then, O king, do thou speedily adopt this line of conduct. If thou dost not act so, the Kurus will surely meet with destruction, for neither Bhimasena nor Arjuna, if angry, will leave any of their foes unslain. What is there in the world which is unattainable to those who cannot among their warriors _Savyasachin_ skilled in arms; who have the Gandiva, the most powerful of all weapons in the world, for their bow; and who have amongst them the mighty Bhima also as a warrior? Formerly, as soon as thy son was born, I told thee,--_Forsake thou this inauspicious child of thine. Herein lieth the good of thy race._--But thou didst not then act accordingly. Nor also, O king, have I pointed out to thee the way of thy welfare. If thou doest as I have counselled, thou shalt not have to repent afterwards. If thy son consent to reign in peace jointly with the sons of Pandu, passing thy days in joy thou shalt not have to repent. Should it be otherwise, abandon thou thy child for thy own happiness. Putting Duryodhana aside, do thou install the son of Pandu in the sovereignty, and let, O king, Ajatasatru, free from passion, rule the earth virtuously. All the kings of the earth, then, like Vaisyas, will, without delay, pay homage unto us. And, O king, let Duryodhana and Sakuni and Karna with alacrity wait upon the Pandavas. And let Dussasana, in open court, ask forgiveness of Bhimasena and of the daughter of Drupada also. And do thou pacify Yudhishthira by placing him on the throne with every mark of respect. Asked by thee, what else can I counsel thee to do? By doing this, O monarch, thou wouldst do what was proper.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'These words, O Vidura, then thou hast spoken in this assembly, with reference to the Pandavas and myself, are for their good but not for ours. My mind doth not approve them. How hast thou settled all this in thy mind now? When thou hast spoken all this on behalf of the Pandavas, I perceive that thou art not friendly to me. How can I abandon my son for the sake of the sons of Pandu? Doubtless they are my sons, but Duryodhana is sprung from my body. Who then, speaking with impartiality, will ever counsel me to renounce my own body for the sake of others? O Vidura, all that thou sayest is crooked, although I hold thee in high esteem. Stay or go as thou likest. However much may she be humoured, an unchaste will forsaketh her husband.'" Vaisampayana said, "O king, saying this Dhritarashtra rose suddenly and went into the inner apartments. And Vidura, saying 'This race is doomed' went away to where the sons of Pritha were." SECTION V Vaisampayana said, "Desirous of living in the forest, those bulls of the Bharata race, the Pandavas, with their followers, setting out from the banks of the Ganges went to the field of Kurukshetra. And performing their ablutions in the Saraswati, the Drisadwati and the Yamuna, they went from one forest to another, travelling in an westernly direction. And at length they saw before them the woods, Kamyaka, the favourite haunt of _Munis_, situated by a level and wild plain on the banks of the Saraswati. And in those woods, O Bharata, abounding in birds and deer, those heroes began to dwell, entertained and comforted by the Munis. And Vidura always longing to see the Pandavas, went in a single car to the Kamyaka woods abounding in every good thing. And arriving at Kamyaka on a car drawn by swift steeds, he saw Yudhishthira the just, sitting with Draupadi at a retired spot, surrounded by his brothers and the Brahmanas. And seeing Vidura approach from a distance with swift steps, the virtuous king addressed brother Bhimasena, saying, 'With what message doth Kshatta come to us? Doth he come hither, despatched by Sakuni, to invite us again to a game of dice? Doth the little-minded Sakuni intend to win again our weapons at dice? O Bhimasena, challenged by any one addressing me,--Come, I am unable to stay. And if our possession of the _Gandiva_ becomes doubtful, will not the acquisition of our kingdom also be so.'" Vaisampayana said, "O king, the Pandavas then rose up and welcomed Vidura. And received by them, that descendant of the Ajamida line (Vidura) sat in their midst and made the usual enquiries. And after Vidura had rested awhile, those bulls among men asked him the reason of his coming. And Vidura began to relate unto them in detail everything connected with the bearing of Dhritarashtra the son of Amvika. "Vidura said, 'O Ajatasatru, Dhritarashtra called me, his dependant, before him and honouring me duly said, "Things have fared thus. Now, do thou tell me what is good for the Pandavas as well as for me." I pointed out what was beneficial to both the Kauravas and Dhritarashtra. But what I said was not relished by him, nor could I hit upon any other course. What I advised was, O Pandavas, highly beneficial, but the son of Amvika heeded me not. Even as medicine recommendeth itself not to one that is ill, so my words failed to please the king. And, O thou without a foe, as all unchaste wile in the family of a man of pure descent cannot be brought back to the path of virtue, so I failed to bring Dhritarashtra back. Indeed, as a young damsel doth not like a husband of three score, even so Dhritarashtra did not like my words. Surely, destruction will overtake the Kuru race, surely Dhritarashtra will never acquire good fortune. For, as water dropped on a lotus-leaf doth not remain there, my counsels will fail to produce any effect to Dhritarashtra. The incensed Dhritarashira told me, O Bharata, go thou thither where thou likest. Never more shall I seek thy aid in ruling the earth or my capital,--O best of monarchs, forsaken by king Dhritarashtra, I come to thee for tendering good counsel. What I had said in the open court, I will now repeat unto thee. Listen, and bear my words in mind,--that wise man who bearing all the gross wrong heaped upon him by his enemies, patiently bideth his time, and multiplieth his resources even as men by degrees turn a small fire into a large one, ruleth alone this entire earth. He that (in prosperity) enjoyeth his substance with his adherents findeth in them sharers of his adversity,--this is the best means of securing adherents, and it is said that he that hath adherents, winneth the sovereignty of the world! And, O Pandava, dividing thy prosperity with thy adherents, behave truthfully towards them, and converse with them agreeably! Share also your food with them! And never boast thyself in their presence! This behaviour increaseth the prosperity of kings!' "Yudhishthira said, 'Having recourse to such high intelligence, undisturbed by passion, I will do as thou counsellest! And whatever else thou mayst counsel in respect of time and place, I will carefully follow entirely.'" SECTION VI Vaisampayana said, "O king, after Vidura had gone to the abode of the Pandavas, Dhritarashtra, O Bharata, of profound wisdom, repented of his action. And thinking of the great intelligence of Vidura in matters connected with both war and peace, and also of the aggrandisement of the Pandavas in the future, Dhritarashtra, pained at the recollection of Vidura, having approached the door of the hall of state fell down senseless in the presence of the monarchs (in waiting). And regaining consciousness, the king rose from the ground and thus addressed Sanjaya standing by, 'My brother and friend is even like the god of justice himself! Recollecting him today, my heart burneth in grief! Go, bring unto me without delay my brother well-versed in morality!' Saying this, the monarch wept bitterly. And burning in repentance, and overwhelmed with sorrow at the recollection of Vidura, the king, from brotherly affection, again addressed Sanjaya saying, 'O Sanjaya, go thou and ascertain whether my brother, expelled by my wretched self through anger, liveth still! That wise brother of mine of immeasurable intelligence hath never been guilty of even the slightest transgression, but, on the other hand, he it is who hath come by grievous wrong at my hands! Seek him, O wise one, and bring him hither; else, O Sanjaya, I will lay down my life!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of the king, Sanjaya expressed his approbation, and saying 'So be it,' went in the direction of the Kamyaka woods. And arriving without loss of time at the forest where the sons of Pandu dwelt, he beheld Yudhishthira clad in deer-skin, seated with Vidura, in the midst of Brahmanas by thousands and guarded by his brothers, even like Purandara in the midst of the celestials! And approaching Yudhishthira, Sanjaya worshipped him duly and was received with due respect by Bhima and Arjuna and the twins. And Yudhishthira made the usual enquiries about his welfare and when he had been seated at his ease, he disclosed the reason of his visit, in these words, 'King Dhritarashtra, the son of Amvika, hath, O Kshatta! remembered thee! Returning unto him without loss of time, do thou revive the king! And, O thou best of men, with the permission of these Kuru princes--these foremost of men--it behoveth thee, at the command of that lion among kings, to return unto him!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Sanjaya, the intelligent Vidura, ever attached to his relatives, with the permission of Yudhishthira returned to the city named after the elephant. And after he had approached the king, Dhritarashtra of great energy, the son of Amvika, addressed him, saying, 'From my good luck alone, O Vidura, thou, O sinless one, of conversant with morality, hast come here remembering me! And, O thou bull of the Bharata race, in thy absence I was beholding myself, sleepless through the day and the night, as one that hath been lost on earth!' And the king then took Vidura on his lap and smelt his head, and said, 'Forgive me, O sinless one, the words in which thou wert addressed by me!' And Vidura said, 'O king, I have forgiven thee. Thou art my superior, worthy of the highest reverence! Here am I, having come back, eagerly wishing to behold thee! All virtuous men, O tiger among men, are (instinctively) partial towards those that are distressed! This, O king, is scarcely the result of deliberation! (My partiality to the Pandavas proceedeth from this cause)! O Bharata, thy sons are as dear to me as the sons of Pandu, but as the latter are now in distress, my heart yearneth after them!'" Vaisampayana continued, "And addressing each other thus in apologetic speeches, the two illustrious brothers, Vidura and Dhritarashtra, felt themselves greatly happy!" SECTION VII Vaisampayana said, "Hearing that Vidura had returned, and that the king had consoled him, the evil-minded son of Dhritarashtra began to burn in grief. His understanding clouded by ignorance, he summoned the son of Suvala, and Karna and Dussasana, and addressed them saying, 'The learned Vidura, the minister of the wise Dhritarashtra, hath returned! The friend of the sons of Pandu, he is ever engaged in doing what is beneficial to them. So long as this Vidura doth not succeed in inducing the king to bring them back, do ye all think of what may benefit me! If ever I behold the sons of Pritha return to the city, I shall again be emaciated by renouncing food and drink, even though there be no obstacle in my path! And I shall either take poison or hang myself, either enter the pyre or kill myself with my own weapons. But I shall never be able to behold the sons of Pandu in prosperity!' "Sakuni said, 'O king, O lord of the earth, what folly hath taken possession of thee! The Pandavas have gone to the forest, having given a particular pledge, so that what thou apprehendest can never take place! O bull of the Bharata race, the Pandavas ever abide by the truth. They will never, therefore, accept the words of thy father! If however, accepting the commands of the king, they come back to the capital, violating their vow, even this would be our conduct, viz., assuming, an aspect of neutrality, and in apparent obedience to the will of the monarch, we will closely watch the Pandavas, keeping our counsels!' "Dussasana said, 'O uncle of great intelligence, it is even as thou sayest! The words of wisdom thou utterest always recommend themselves to me!' Karna said, 'O Duryodhana, all of us seek to accomplish thy will and, O king, I see that unanimity at present prevaileth among us! The sons of Pandu, with passions under complete control, will never return without passing away the promised period. If, however, they do return from failing sense, do thou defeat them again at dice.'" Vaisampayana said, "Thus addressed by Karna, king Duryodhana with cheerless heart, averted his face from his counsellors. Marking all this, Karna expanding his beautiful eyes, and vehemently gesticulating in anger, haughtily addressed Duryodhana and Dussasana and Suvala's son saying, 'Ye princes, know ye my opinion! We are all servants of the king (Duryodhana) waiting upon him with joined palms! We should, therefore, do what is agreeable to him! But we are not always able to seek his welfare with promptness and activity (owing to our dependence on Dhritarashtra)! But let us now, encased in mail and armed with our weapons, mount our cars and go in a body to slay the Pandavas now living in the forest! After the Pandavas have been quieted and after they have gone on the unknown journey, both ourselves and the sons of Dhritarashtra will find peace! As long as they are in distress, as long as they are in sorrow, as long as they are destitute of help, so long are we a match for them! This is my mind!' "Hearing those words of the charioteer's son, they repeatedly applauded him, and at last exclaimed, 'Very well!' And saying this each of them mounted his car, and sanguine of success, they rushed in a body to slay the sons of Pandu. And knowing by his spiritual vision that they had gone out, the master Krishna-Dwaipayana of pure soul came upon them, and commanded them to desist. And sending them away, the holy one, worshipped by all the worlds, quickly appeared before the king whose intelligence served the purposes of eye-sight, and who was then seated (at his ease). And the holy one addressed the monarch thus." SECTION VIII "Vyasa said, 'O wise Dhritarashtra, hear what I say! I will tell thee that which is for the great good of all the Kauravas! O thou of mighty arms, it hath not pleased me that the Pandavas have gone to the forest dishonestly defeated (at dice) by Duryodhana and others! O Bharata, on the expiration of the thirteenth year, recollecting all their woes, they may shower death-dealing weapons, even like virulent poison, upon the Kauravas! Why doth thy sinful son of wicked heart, ever inflamed with ire, seek to slay the sons of Pandu for the sake of their kingdom? Let the fool be restrained; let thy son remain quiet! In attempting to slay the Pandavas in exile, he will only lose his own life. Thou art as honest as the wise Vidura, or Bhishma, or ourselves, or Kripa, or Drona. O thou of great wisdom, dissension with one's own kin are forbidden, sinful and reprehensible! Therefore, O king, it behoveth thee to desist from such acts! And, O Bharata, Duryodhana looketh with such jealousy towards the Pandavas that great harm would be the consequence, if thou didst not interfere. Or let this wicked son of thine, O monarch, alone and unaccompanied, himself go to the forest and live with the sons of Pandu. For then, if the Pandavas, from association, feel an attachment for Duryodhana, then, O king of men, good fortune may be thine. (This, however, may not be)! For it hath been heard that one's congenital nature leaveth him not till death. But what do Bhishma and Drona and Vidura think? What also dost thou think? That which is beneficial should be done while there is time, else thy purposes will be unrealised.'" SECTION IX "Dhritarashtra said, 'O holy one, I did not like this business of gambling, but, O Muni, I think, I was made to consent to it drawn by fate! Neither Bhishma, nor Drona, nor Vidura, nor Gandhari liked this game at dice. No doubt, it was begot of folly. And, O thou who delightest in the observance of vows, O illustrious one, knowing everything yet influenced by paternal affection, I am unable to cast off my senseless son, Duryodhana!' "Vyasa said, 'O king, O son of Vichitravirya, what thou sayest is true! We know it well that a son is the best of all things and that there is nothing that is so good as a son. Instructed by the tears of Suravi, Indra came to know that the son surpasseth in worth other valuable possessions. O monarch, I will, in this connection, relate to thee that excellent and best of stories, the conversation between Indra and Suravi. In days of yore, Suravi, the mother of cows was once weeping in the celestial regions. O child, Indra took compassion upon her, and asked her, saying, "O auspicious one! why dost thou weep? Is everything well with the celestials? Hath any misfortune, ever so little, befallen the world of men or serpents?" Suravi replied, "No evil hath befallen thee that I perceive. But I am aggrieved on account of my son, and it is therefore, O Kausika, that I weep! See, O chief of the celestials, yonder cruel husbandman is belabouring my weak son with the wooden stick, and oppressing him with the (weight of the) plough, in consequence of which my child agitated with agony is falling upon the ground and is at the point of death. At sight of this, O lord of the celestials, I am filled with compassion, and my mind is agitated! The one that is the stronger of the pair is bearing his burthen of greater weight (with ease), but, O Vasava, the other is lean, and weak and is a mass of veins and arteries! He beareth his burthen with difficulty! And it is for him that I grieve. See, O Vasava, sore inflicted with the whip, and harassed exceedingly, he is unable to bear his burthen. And it is for him that, moved by grief, I weep in heaviness of heart and these tears of compassion trickle down my eyes!" "'Sakra said, "O fair one, when thousands of thy son are (daily) oppressed, why dost thou grieve for one under infliction?" Suravi replied. "Although I have a thousand offspring, yet my affections flow equally towards all! But, O Sakra, I feel greater compassion for one that is weak and innocent!" "Vyasa continued, 'Then Indra having heard these words of Suravi, was much surprised, and O thou of the Kuru race, he became convinced that a son is dearer than one's life! And the illustrious chastiser of Paka thereupon suddenly poured there a thick shower and caused obstruction to the husbandman's work. And as Suravi said, thy affections, O king, equally flow towards all thy sons. Let them be greater towards those that are weak! And as my son Pandu is to me, so art thou, O son, and so also Vidura of profound wisdom! It is out of affection that I tell you all this! O Bharata, thou art possessed of a hundred and one sons, but Pandu hath only five. And they are in a bad plight and passing _their_ days in sorrow. _How may they save their lives, how may they thrive_ such thoughts regarding the distressed sons of Pritha continually agitate my soul! O king of the earth, if thou desirest all the Kauravas to live, let thy son Duryodhana make peace with the Pandavas!'" SECTION X "Dhritarashtra said, 'O Muni of profound wisdom, it is even as thou sayest! I know it well as do all these kings! Indeed, what thou considerest to be beneficial for the Kurus was pointed out to me, O Muni, by Vidura and Bhishma and Drona. And, if I deserve thy favour, and if thou hast kindness for the Kurus, do thou exhort my wicked son Duryodhana!' "Vyasa said, 'O king, after having seen the Pandava brothers, here cometh the holy Rishi Maitreya, with the desire of seeing us. That mighty Rishi, O king, will admonish thy son for the welfare of this race. And, O Kauravya, what he adviseth must be followed undoubtingly, for if what he recommendeth is not done, the sage will curse thy son in anger.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Saying this, Vyasa departed, and Maitreya made his appearance. And the king with his son respectfully received that way-worn chief of Munis, with offerings of the Arghya and other rites. And king Dhritarashtra, the son of Amvika, in words of respect thus addressed the sage, 'O holy one, hath journey from the _Kuru-jangala_ been a pleasant one? Are those heroes, the five Pandavas living happily? Do those bulls of the Kuru race intend to stay out their time? Will the brotherly affection of the Kauravas ever be impaired?' "Maitreya said, 'Setting out on a pilgrimage to the different shrines, I arrived at _Kuru-jangala_, and there I unexpectedly saw Yudhishthira the just in the woods of Kamyaka. And, O exalted one, many Munis had come there to behold the high-souled Yudhishthira, dwelling in an ascetic asylum, clad in deer-skin and wearing matted locks. It was there, O king of kings, that I heard of the grave error committed by thy sons and the calamity and terrible danger arisen from dice that had overtaken them. Therefore, it is that I have come to thee, for the good of the Kauravas, since, O exalted one, my affection is great for thee and I am delighted with thee! O king, it is not fit that thy sons should on any account quarrel with one another, thyself and Bhishma living. Thou art, O king, the stake at which bulls are tied (in treading corn), and thou art competent to punish and reward! Why dost thou overlook then this great evil that is about to overtake all? And, O descendant of the Kurus, for those wrongs that have been perpetrated in thy court, which are even like the acts of wretched outcasts, thou art not well-thought amongst the ascetics!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then turning to the wrathful prince Duryodhana, the illustrious Rishi Maitreya addressed him in these soft words, 'O mighty-armed Duryodhana, O best of all eloquent men, O illustrious one, give heed unto the words I utter for thy good! O king, seek not to quarrel with the Pandavas! And, O bull among men, compass thou thy own good as also of the Pandavas, of the Kurus and of the world! All those tigers among men are heroes of high prowess in war, gifted with the strength of ten thousand elephants, with bodies hard as the thunderbolt, holding fast by their promises, and proud of their manliness! They have slain the enemies of the celestials--those Rakshasas capable of assuming any form at will, such as were headed by Hidimva and Kirmira! When those high-souled ones went from hence that Rakshasa of fierce soul obstructed their nocturnal path even like an immoveable hill. And even as a tiger slayeth a little deer, Bhima, that foremost of all endued with strength, and ever delighted in fight, slew that monster. Consider also, O king, how while out on his campaign of conquest, Bhima slew in battle that mighty warrior, Jarasandha, possessing the strength of ten thousand elephants. Related to Vasudeva and having the sons of king Drupada as their brothers-in-law, who that is subject to decrepitude and death would undertake to cope with them in battle? O bull of the Bharata race, let there be peace between thee and Pandavas! Follow thou my counsels and surrender not thyself to anger!' "O king, thus admonished by Maitreya, Duryodhana began to slap his thigh resembling the trunk of the elephant, and smilingly began to scratch the ground with his foot. And the wicked wretch spake not a word, but hung down his head. And, O monarch, beholding Duryodhana thus offer him a slight by scratching the earth silently, Maitreya became angry. And, as if commissioned by fate, Maitreya, the best of Munis, overwhelmed by wrath, set his mind upon cursing Duryodhana! And then, with eyes red in anger, Maitreya, touching water, cursed the evil-minded son of Dhritarashtra, saying, 'Since, slighting me thou declinest to act according to my words, thou shalt speedily reap the fruit of this thy insolence! In the great war which shall spring out of the wrongs perpetrated by thee, the mighty Bhima shall smash that thigh of thine with a stroke of his mace!' "When the Muni had spoken so, king Dhritarashtra began to pacify the sage, in order that what he had said might not happen. But Maitreya said, 'O king, if thy son concludeth peace with the Pandavas, this curse of mine, O child, will not take effect, otherwise it must be as I have said!'" Vaisampayana said, "Desirous of ascertaining the might of Bhima, that foremost of kings, the father of Duryodhana, then asked Maitreya, saying, 'How was Kirmira slain by Bhima?' "Maitreya said, 'I shall not speak again unto thee, O king, for my words are not regarded by thy son. After I have gone away, Vidura will relate everything unto thee!' And saying this, Maitreya went away to the place whence he had come. And Duryodhana also went out perturbed at the tidings of Kirmira's death (at the hand of Bhima)." SECTION XI (Kirmirabadha Parva) "Dhritarashtra said, 'O Kshatta, I am desirous to hear of the destruction of Kirmira! Do thou tell me how the encounter took place between the Rakshasa and Bhimasena!' "Vidura said, 'Listen to the story of that feat of Bhimasena of superhuman achievements! I have often heard of it in course of my conversation with the Pandavas (while I was with them). O foremost of kings, defeated at dice the Pandavas departed from hence and travelling for three days and nights they at length reached those woods that go by the name of Kamyaka. O king, just after the dreadful hour of midnight when all nature is asleep, when man-eating Rakshasas of terrible deeds begin to wander, the ascetics and the cowherds and other rangers of the forest used to shun the woods of Kamyaka and fly to a distance from fear of cannibals. And, O Bharata, as the Pandavas were at this hour entering those woods a fearful Rakshasa of flaming eyes appeared before them with a lighted brand, obstructing their path. And with outstretched arms and terrible face, he stood obstructing the way on which those perpetuators of the Kuru race were proceeding. With eight teeth standing out, with eyes of coppery hue, and with the hair of his head blazing and standing erect, the fiend looked like a mass of clouds reflecting the rays of the sun or mingled with lightning flashes and graced with flocks of cranes underneath on their wings. And uttering frightful yells and roaring like a mass of clouds charged with rain, the fiend began to spread the illusion proper to his species. Hearing that terrible roar, birds along with other creatures that live on land or in water, began to drop down in all directions, uttering cries of fear. And in consequence of the deer and the leopards and the buffaloes and the bears flying about in all directions, it seemed as if the forest itself was in motion. And swayed by the wind raised by the sighs of the Rakshasa, creepers growing at a great distance seemed to embrace the trees with their arms of coppery leaves. And at that moment, a violent wind began to blow, and the sky became darkened with the dust that covered it. And as grief is the greatest enemy of the object of the five senses, even so appeared before the Pandavas that unknown foe of theirs. And beholding the Pandavas from a distance clad in black deer-skins, the Rakshasa obstructed their passage through the forest even like the _Mainaka_ mountain. And at the sight of him never seen before the lotus-eyed Krishna, agitated with fear, closed her eyes. And she whose braids had been dishevelled by the hand of Dussasana, stationed in the midst of the five Pandavas, looked like a stream chafing amid five hills. And seeing her overwhelmed with fear the five Pandavas supported her as the five senses influenced by desire adhere to the pleasures relating to their objects. And Dhaumya of great (ascetic) energy, in the presence of the sons of Pandu, destroyed the fearful illusion that had been spread by the Rakshasa, by applying various _mantras_, calculated to destroy the Rakshasa. And beholding his illusion dispelled, the mighty Rakshasa of crooked ways, capable of assuming any form at will, expanded his eyes in wrath and seemed like death himself. Then king Yudhishthira, endued with great wisdom, addressed him saying, 'Who art thou, and whose (son)? Tell us what we should do for thee.' The Rakshasa thus addressed, answered Yudhishthira the just, saying, 'I am the brother of Vaka, the celebrated Kirmira. I live at ease in these deserted woods of Kamyaka, daily procuring my food by vanquishing men in fight. Who are ye that have come near me in the shape of my food? Defeating ye all in fight, I will eat ye with pleasure.'" Vaisampayana continued, "O Bharata, hearing these words of the wretch, Yudhishthira announced his own name and lineage, saying, 'I am king Yudhishthira the just, the son of Pandu, of whom thou mayst have heard. Deprived of my kingdom, I have with my brothers Bhimasena and Arjuna and the others, in course of my wanderings, come into this terrible forest which is thy dominion, desirous of passing my period of exile here!' "Vidura continued, 'Kirmira said unto Yudhishthira, "By good luck it is that fate hath accomplished today my long-accomplished desire! With weapons upraised have I been continually ranging the entire earth with the object of slaying Bhima. But Bhima I had found not. By good luck it is that slayer of my brother, whom I had been seeking so long, hath come before me! It was he who in the disguise of a Brahmana slew my dear brother Vaka in the _Vetrakiya_ forest by virtue of his science. He hath truly no strength of arms! It is also this one of wicked soul who formerly slew my dear friend Hidimva, living in this forest and ravished his sister! And that fool hath now come into this deep forest of mine, when the night is half spent, even at the time when we wander about! Today I will wreak my long-cherished vengeance upon him, and I will today gratify (the manes of) Vaka with his blood in plenty! By slaying this enemy of the Rakshasas, I shall today be freed from the debt I owe to my friend and my brother, and thereby attain supreme happiness! If Bhimasena was let free formerly by Vaka, today, I will devour him in thy sight, O Yudhishthira! And even as Agastya ate up and digested the mighty Asura (Vatapi) I will eat up and digest this Bhima!"' "Vidura continued, 'Thus addressed by the Rakshasa, the virtuous Yudhishthira, steadfast in his pledges, said, "It can never be so,"--and in anger rebuked the Rakshasa. The mighty-armed Bhima then tore up in haste a tree of the length of ten _Vyasas_ and stripped it of its leaves. And in the space of a moment the ever-victorious Arjuna stringed his bow _Gandiva_ possessing the force of the thunderbolt. And, O Bharata, making Jishnu desist, Bhima approached that Rakshasa still roaring like the clouds and said unto him, "_Stay! Stay!_" And thus addressing the cannibal, and tightening the cloth around his waist, and rubbing his palms, and biting his nether lip with his teeth, and armed with the tree, the powerful Bhima rushed towards the foe. And like unto Maghavat hurling his thunderbolt, Bhima made that tree, resembling the mace of Yama himself descend with force on the head of the cannibal. The Rakshasa, however, was seen to remain unmoved at that blow, and wavered not in the conflict. On the other hand, he hurled his lighted brand, flaming like lightning, at Bhima. But that foremost of warriors turned it off with his left foot in such a way that it went back towards the Rakshasa. Then the fierce Kirmira on his part, all on a sudden uprooting a tree darted to the encounter like unto the mace-bearing Yama himself. And that fight, so destructive of the trees, looked like the encounter in days of yore between the brothers Vali and Sugriva for the possession of the same woman. And the trees struck at the heads of the combatants, were broken into splinters, like lotus-stalks thrown on the temples of infuriate elephants. And in that great forest, innumerable trees, crushed like unto reeds, lay scattered as rags. That encounter with trees between that foremost of Rakshasas and that best of men, O thou bull of the Bharata race, lasted but for a moment. Then taking up a crag, the angry Rakshasa hurled it at Bhima standing before him, but the latter wavered not. Then like unto Rahu going to devour the sun dispersing his rays with extended arms, the Rakshasa with out-stretched arms darted towards Bhima, who had remained firm under the blow inflicted with the crag. And tugging at and grappling with each other in diverse ways they appeared like two infuriate bulls struggling with each other. Or like unto two mighty tigers armed with teeth and claws, the encounter between them waxed fierce and hard. And remembering their (late) disgrace at the hands of Duryodhana, and proud of the strength of his arms, and conscious also of Krishna looking at him, Vrikodara began to swell in vigour. And fired with anger, Bhima seized the Rakshasa with his arms, as one elephant in rut seizeth another. And the powerful Rakshasa also in his turn seized his adversary, but Bhimasena that foremost of all men endued with strength, threw the cannibal down with violence. The sounds that in consequence of those mighty combatants pressing each other's hands, were frightful and resembled the sounds of splintering bamboos. And hurling the Rakshasa down, seized him by the waist, and began to whirl him about, even as fierce hurricane shaketh a tree. And thus seized by the mighty Bhima, the fatigued Rakshasa, became faint, and trembling all over, he still pressed the (Pandava) with all his strength. And finding him fatigued, Vrikodara, twined his own arms round the foe, even as one bindeth a beast with cord. And the monster thereupon began to roar frightfully, as a trumpet out of order. And the mighty Vrikodara for a long while whirled the Rakshasa till the latter appeared to be insensible, and began to move convulsively. And finding the Rakshasa exhausted, the son of Pandu without loss of time took him up in his arms, and slew him like a beast. And placing his knee on the waist of that wretch of Rakshasa, _Vrikodara_ began to press the neck of the foe with his hands. Then Bhima, dragging along the earth the bruised body of the Rakshasa with the eye-lids about to close, said, "O sinful wretch, thou wilt no more have to wipe away the tears of Hidimva or Vaka, for thou too art about to go to the mansions of Yama!" And saying this, that foremost of men, his heart filled with wrath, beholding the Rakshasa destitute of clothing and ornaments, and insensible, and undergoing convulsions, left him dead. And after that Rakshasa of hue like the clouds had been slain, the son of that best of kings (Pandu) praised Bhima for his many qualities, and placing Krishna in their front, set out for the Dwaita woods.' "Vidura said, 'It was thus, O lord of men, that Kirmira was slain in combat by Bhima, in obedience, O Kaurava, to the commands of Yudhishthira the just! And having rid the forest of its pest, the victorious Yudhishthira the just, began to live in that dwelling of theirs, with Draupadi. And those bulls of the Bharata race comforting Draupadi began to cheerfully extol Bhima with glad hearts. And after the Rakshasa had been slain, borne down by the might of Bhima's arms, those heroes entered into the peaceful forest freed from its annoyance. Passing through the great forest I saw lying the body of the wicked and fearless Rakshasa slain by Bhima's might. And, O Bharata, there I heard of this achievement of Bhima from those Brahmanas who have assembled round the Pandavas.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing the account of the slaughter in combat of Kirmira, that foremost of Rakshasas, the king sighed in sorrow and became absorbed in thought." SECTION XII (Arjunabhigamana Parva) Vaisampayana said, "Hearing that the Pandavas had been banished, the Bhojas, the Vrishnis, and the Andhakas went to those heroes residing in affliction in the great forest. And the consanguinous relatives of Panchala, and Dhrishtaketu the king of Chedi, and those celebrated and powerful brothers the Kaikeyas, their hearts fired with wrath, went to the forest to see the sons of Pritha. And reproaching the sons of Dhritarashtra, they said, 'What should we do?' And those bulls of the Kshatriya race, with Vasudeva at their head, sat themselves down round Yudhishthira the just. And respectfully saluting that foremost of the Kurus, Kesava mournfully said, 'The earth shall drink the blood of Duryodhana and Karna, of Dussasana and the wicked Sakuni! Slaying these in battle and defeating their followers along with their royal allies, will we all install Yudhishthira the just on the throne! The wicked deserve to be slain! Verily, this is eternal morality.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And when on account of the wrongs of Pritha's sons, Janardana had thus got into a passion, and seemed bent upon consuming all created things, Arjuna exerted himself to pacify him. And beholding Kesava angry, Phalguna began to recite the feats achieved in his former lives by that soul of all things, himself immeasurable, the eternal one, of infinite energy, the lord of _Prajapati_ himself, the supreme ruler of the worlds, Vishnu of profound wisdom!' "Arjuna said, 'In days of old, thou, O Krishna, hadst wandered on the Gandhamadana mountains for ten thousand years as a _Muni_ having his home where evening fell! Living upon water alone, thou hadst, in days of old, O Krishna, also dwelt for full eleven thousand years by the lake of Pushkara! And, O slayer of Madhu, with arms upraised and standing on one leg, thou hadst passed a hundred years on the high hills of Vadari,[16] living all the while upon air! And leaving aside thy upper garment, with body emaciated and looking like a bundle of veins, thou hadst lived on the banks of the Saraswati, employed in thy sacrifice extending for twelve years! And, O Krishna of mighty energy, in observance of thy vow thou hadst stood on one leg for the length of a thousand years of the celestials, on the plains of _Prabhasa_ which it behoveth the virtuous to visit! Vyasa hath told me that thou art the cause of the creation and its course! And, O Kesava, the lord of _Kshetra_,[17] thou art the mover of all minds, and the beginning and end of all things! All asceticism resteth in thee, and thou too art the embodiment of all sacrifices, and the eternal one! Slaying the Asura Naraka, offspring of the Earth-first begotten, thou hadst obtained his ear-rings, and performed, O Krishna, the first horse-sacrifice (offering up that Asura as the sacrificial horse)! And, O bull of all the worlds, having performed that feat, thou hast become victorious over all! Thou hadst slain all the _Daityas_ and _Danavas_ mustered in battle, and giving the lord of _Sachi_ (Indra) the sovereignty of the universe, thou hast, O Kesava of mighty arms, taken thy birth among men! O slayer of all foes, having floated on the primordial waters, thou subsequently becamest _Hari_,[18] and _Brahma_ and _Surya_ and _Dharma_, and _Dhatri_ and _Yama_ and _Anala_ and _Vasu_, and _Vaisravana_, and _Rudra_, and _Kala_ and the firmament, the earth, and the ten directions! Thyself increate, thou art the lord of the mobile and the immobile universe, the Creator of all, O thou foremost of all existences! And, O slayer of Madhu, O thou of abundant energy, in the forest of Chitraratha thou didst, O Krishna, gratify with thy sacrifice the chief of all the gods, the highest of the high! O Janardana, at each sacrifice thou didst offer, according to shares, gold by hundreds and thousands. And, O son of the Yadava race, becoming the son of Aditi, O exalted one of the supreme attributes, thou hast been known as the younger brother of Indra! And, O thou chastiser of foes, even while a child thou didst, O Krishna, in consequence of thy energy, fill by three steps only the heaven, the firmament, and the earth! And, O thou soul of all covering the heaven and the firmament (while thou wert thus transformed), thou didst dwell in the body of the sun and afflict him with thy own splendour! And, O exalted one, in thy incarnations on those thousand occasions, thou hadst slain, O Krishna, sinful Asuras by hundreds! By destroying the _Mauravas_ and the _Pashas_, and slaying Nisunda and Naraka, thou hast again rendered safe the road to Pragjyotisha! Thou hast slain Ahvriti at Jaruthi, and Kratha and Sisupala with his adherents, and Jarasandha and Saivya and Satadhanwan! And on thy car roaring like unto clouds and effulgent like the sun, thou didst obtain for thy queen the daughter of Bhoja, defeating Rukmi in battle! Thou didst in fury slay Indradyumna and the _Yavana_ called Kaseruman! And slaying Salwa the lord of Saubha, thou didst destroy that city of Saubha itself! These have all been slain in battle; listen to me as I speak of others (also slain by thee)! At Iravati thou hast slain king Bhoja equal unto Karttavirya in battle, and both Gopati and Talaketu also have been slain by thee! And, O Janardana, thou hast also appropriated unto thyself the sacred city of Dwarka, abounding in wealth and agreeable unto the _Rishi_ themselves, and thou wilt submerge it at the end within the ocean! O slayer of Madhu, how can crookedness be in thee, devoid as thou art, O thou of the Dasarha race, of anger and envy and untruth and cruelty? O thou who knowest no deterioration, all the _Rishis_, coming unto thee seated in thy glory on the sacrificial ground, seek protection of thee! And, O slayer of Madhu, thou stayest at the end of the _Yuga_, contracting all things and withdrawing this universe into thy own self, thou repressor of all foes! O thou of the Vrishni race, at the beginning of the Yuga, there sprang from thy lotus-like navel, Brahma himself, and lord of all mobile and immobile things, and whose is this entire universe! When the dreadful Danavas Madhu and Kaitava were bent on slaying Brahma, beholding their impious endeavour thou wert angry, and from thy forehead, O Hari, sprang Sambhu, the holder of the trident. Thus these two foremost of the deities have sprung from thy body in order to do thy work! Even Narada it was who hath told me this! O Narayana, thou didst, in the forest of Chaitraratha, celebrate with plentiful gifts a grand sacrifice consisting of a multitude of rites! O God, O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, the deeds thou hast performed while still a boy, having recourse to thy might and aided by Baladeva, have never been done by others, nor are they capable of being achieved by others in the future! Thou didst even dwell in Kailasa, accompanied by Brahmanas!'" [16] Also called _Vadarika_, a hermitage on the Himalaya near the sources of the Ganges. [17] Nilakantha explains _kshetra_ as including _Mahabhuta_, consciousness, intellect, the unmanifest (primordial elements), the ten senses, the five objects of the senses, viz., earth, water, &c., desire, aversion, pleasure, pain, the combinations of elements, and _chaitanya_. [18] _Hari_ here means the developed seed that is to expand into the vast whole of the universe. Vaisampayana continued, "Having addressed Krishna thus, the illustrious Pandava, who was the soul of Krishna, became dumb, when Janardana (in reply addressed that son of Pritha) saying, 'Thou art mine and I am thine, while all that is mine is thine also! He that hateth thee hateth me as well, and he that followeth thee followeth me! O thou irrepressible one, thou art _Nara_ and I am _Narayana_ or Hari! We are the _Rishis_ Nara and Narayana born in the world of men for a special purpose. O Partha, thou art from me and I am from thee! O bull of the Bharata race, no one can understand the difference that is between us!'" Vaisampayana continued, "When the illustrious Kesava had said so in the midst of that assembly of brave kings, all excited with anger, Panchali surrounded by Dhrishtadyumna and her other heroic brothers, approached him of eyes like lotus leaves seated with his cousins, and, desirous of protection, addressed in angry accents that refuge of all, saying, 'Asita and Devala have said that in the matter of the creation of all things, thou hast been indicated (by the sages) as the only _Prajapati_ and the Creator of all the worlds! And, O irrepressible one, Jamadagnya sayeth that thou art _Vishnu_, and, O slayer of Madhu, that thou art (embodiment of) _Sacrifice, Sacrificer_ and he for whom the sacrifice is performed! And, O best of male beings, the _Rishis_ indicate thee as Forgiveness and Truth! Kasyapa hath said that thou art Sacrifice sprung from Truth! O exalted one, Narada calleth thee the god of the Sadhyas, and of the Sivas, as alone the Creator and the Lord of all things. And, O tiger among men, thou repeatedly sportest with the gods including Brahma and Sankara and Sakra even as children sporting with their toys! And, O exalted one, the firmament is covered by thy head, and the earth by thy feet; these worlds are as thy womb and thou art the Eternal one! With _Rishis_ sanctified by Vedic lore and asceticism, and whose souls have been purified by penance, and who are contented with soul-vision, thou art the best of all objects! And, O chief of all male beings, thou art the refuge of all royal sages devoted to virtuous acts, never turning their backs on the field of the battle, and possessed of every accomplishment! Thou art the Lord of all, thou art Omnipresent, thou art the Soul of all things, and thou art the active power pervading everything! The rulers of the several worlds, those worlds themselves, the stellar conjunctions, the ten points of the horizon, the firmament, the moon, and the sun, are all established in thee! And, O mighty-armed one, the morality of (earthly) creatures, the immortality of the universe, are established in thee! Thou art the Supreme lord of all creatures, celestial or human! Therefore it is, O slayer of Madhu, that impelled by the affection thou bearest me that I will relate to thee my griefs! O Krishna, how could one like me, the wife of Pritha's sons, the sister of Dhrishtadyumna, and the friend of thee, be dragged to the assembly! Alas, during my season, stained with blood, with but a single cloth on, trembling all over, and weeping, I was dragged to the court of the Kurus! Beholding me, stained with blood in the presence of those kings in the assembly, the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra laughed at me! O slayer of Madhu, while the sons of Pandu and the Panchalas and the Vrishnis lived, they dared express the desire of using me as their slave! O Krishna, I am according to the ordinance, the daughter in-law of both Dhritarashtra and Bhishma! Yet, O slayer of Madhu, they wished to make of me a slave by force! I blame the Pandavas who are mighty and foremost in battle, for they saw (without stirring) their own wedded wife known over all the world, treated with such cruelty! Oh, fie on the might of Bhimasena, fie on the _Gandiva_ of Arjuna, for they, O Janardana, both suffered me to be thus disgraced by little men! This eternal course of morality is ever followed by the virtuous--_viz_, that the husband, however weak, protecteth his wedded wife! By protecting the wife one protecteth his offspring and by protecting the offspring one protecteth his own self! One's own self is begotten on one's wife, and therefore it is that the wife is called _Jaya_. A wife also should protect her lord, remembering that he is to take his birth in her womb! The Pandavas never forsake the person that soliciteth their protection, and yet they abandoned me who solicited it! By my five husbands five sons of exceeding energy have been born of me: Prativindhya by Yudhishthira, Sutasoma by Vrikodara, Srutakirti by Arjuna, Satanika by Nakula and Srutakarman by the youngest, all of them of energy that cannot be baffled. For their sake, O Janardana, it was necessary to protect me! Even as (thy son) Pradyumna, they are, O Krishna, mighty warriors all! They are foremost of bowmen, and invincible in battle by any foe! Why do they bear the wrongs inflicted (on me) by the sons of Dhritarashtra of such contemptible strength? Deprived of their kingdom by deception, the Pandavas were made bondsmen and I myself was dragged to the assembly while in my season, and having only a single cloth on! Fie on that _Gandiva_ which none else can string save Arjuna and Bhima and thyself, O slayer of Madhu! Fie on the strength of Bhima, and fie on the prowess of Arjuna, since, O Krishna, Duryodhana (after what he had done) hath drawn breath even for a moment! He it is, O slayer of Madhu, who formerly drove the guileless Pandavas with their mother from the kingdom, while they were children still engaged in study and the observance of their vows. It is that sinful wretch, who, horrible to relate, mixed in Bhima's food fresh and virulent poison in full dose. But, O Janardana, Bhima digested that poison with the food, without sustaining any injury, for, O best of men and mighty-armed one, Bhima's days had not been ended! O Krishna, it is Duryodhana who at the house standing by the banyan called _Pramana_ bound Bhima sleeping unsuspectingly, and casting him into the Ganges returned to the city. But the powerful Bhimasena the son of Kunti, possessed of mighty arms, on waking from sleep, tore his bonds and rose from the water. It is Duryodhana, who caused venomous black cobras to bite all over the body of Bhimasena, but that slayer of foes died not. Awaking, the son of Kunti smashed all the serpents and with his left hand killed (the agent, _viz_.) the favourite charioteer of Duryodhana. Again, while the children were asleep at Varanavata with their mother, it is he who set fire to the house intending to burn them to death. Who is there capable of doing such an act? It was then that the illustrious Kunti, overtaken by this calamity, and surrounded by the flames, began to cry out in terror, speaking to the children, "Alas, I am undone! How shall we escape from this fire today! Alas, I shall meet with destruction with my little children!" Then Bhima, possessed of mighty arms, and prowess like unto the force of the wind, comforted his illustrious mother as also his brothers, saying, "Like that king of birds, Garuda, the son of Vinata, I will spring up into the air. We have no fear from this fire." And then taking his mother on his left flank, and the king in his right, and the twins on each shoulder, and Vibhatsu on his back, the mighty Vrikodara, thus taking all of them, at one leap cleared the fire and delivered his mother and brother from the conflagration. Setting out that night with their renowned mother, they came near the forest of Hidimva. And while fatigued and distressed, they were sleeping fast with her, a Rakshasa woman called Hidimva approached them. Beholding the Pandavas with their mother asleep on the ground, influenced by desire she sought to have Bhimasena for her lord. The weak one then took up Bhima's feet on her lap to press them with her soft hands. The mighty Bhima of immeasurable energy, of prowess that could not be baffled, then woke from sleep, and asked her, saying, "O thou of faultless features, what dost thou wish here?" Thus asked by him, the Rakshasa lady of faultless features, capable, besides, of assuming any form at will, replied unto the high-souled Bhima, saying, "Do ye speedily fly from this place! My brother gifted with strength will come to slay ye! Therefore speed and tarry not!" But Bhima haughtily said, "I do not fear him! If he cometh here, I will slay him!" Hearing their converse, that vilest of cannibals came to the spot. Of frightful form and dreadful to behold, uttering loud cries as he came, the Rakshasa said, "O Hidimva, with whom dost thou converse? Bring him unto me, I will eat him up. It behoveth thee to tarry not." But moved by compassion, the Rakshasa lady of faultless features and pure heart said nothing out of pity. Then the man-eating monster, uttering dreadful cries, rushed at Bhima with great force. And approaching him furiously, the mighty cannibal, possessed with rage, caught hold of Bhima's hand with his own and clenching fast his other hand and making it hard as the thunder-bolt of Indra, suddenly struck Bhima a blow that descended with the force of lightning. His hand having been seized by the Rakshasa, Vrikodara, without being able to brook it, flew into a rage. Then a dreadful combat took place between Bhimasena and Hidimva, both skilled in all weapons and which was like unto the encounter of Vasava with Vritra. And, O sinless one, after sporting with the Rakshasa for a long while the powerful Bhima of mighty energy slew the cannibal when the latter had become weak with exertion. Then having slain Hidimva, and taking (his sister) Hidimva at their head, of whom was (subsequently) born Ghatotkacha, Bhima and his brothers went away. Then all those repressers of their foes, accompanied by their mother and surrounded by many Brahmanas proceeded towards Ekachakra. In the matter of this their journey, Vyasa ever engaged in their welfare had become their counsellor. Then arriving at Ekachakra, the Pandavas of rigid vows there also slew a mighty cannibal, Vaka by name, terrible as Hidimva himself. And having slain that fierce cannibal, Bhima that foremost of smiters, went with all his brothers to the capital of Drupada. And, O Krishna, as thou hadst acquired Rukmim, the daughter of Bhishmaka, even so Savyasachin, while residing there, obtained me! O slayer of Madhu, Arjuna won me in the _Swayamvara_, having performed a feat difficult of achievement by others and having fought also with the assembled kings! "'Thus, O Krishna, afflicted with numerous griefs, and in great distress, am I living, with Dhaumya at our head, but deprived of the company of the adorable Kunti! Why do these that are gifted with strength and possessed of the prowess of the lion, sit indifferently, beholding me thus afflicted by enemies so despicable? Suffering such wrongs at the hands of wicked and evil-doing foes of small strength, am I to burn in grief so long? Born I was in a great race, coming into the world in an extraordinary way! I am also the beloved wife of the Pandavas, and the daughter-in-law of the illustrious Pandu! The foremost of women and devoted to my husbands, even I, O Krishna, was seized by hair, O slayer of Madhu, in the sight of the Pandavas, each of whom is like an Indra himself!' "Saying this the mild-speeched Krishna hid her face with her soft hands like the buds of lotus, and began to weep. And the tears of Panchali begot of grief washed her deep, plump and graceful breasts crowned with auspicious marks. And wiping her eyes and sighing frequently she said these words angrily and in a choked voice, 'Husbands, or sons, or friends, or brothers, or father, have I none! Nor have I thee, O thou slayer of Madhu, for ye all, beholding me treated so cruelly by inferior foes, sit still unmoved! My grief at Karna's ridicule is incapable of being assuaged! On these grounds I deserve to be ever protected by thee, O Kesava, _viz_., our relationship, thy respect (for me), our friendship, and thy lordship (over me).'" Vaisampayana continued, "In that assembly of heroes Vasudeva then spake unto the weeping Draupadi as follows, 'O fair lady, the wives of those with whom thou art angry, shall weep even like thee, beholding their husbands dead on the ground, weltering in blood and their bodies covered with the arrows of Vivatsu! Weep not, lady, for I will exert to the utmost of my powers for the sons of Pandu! I promise thou shalt (once more) be the queen of kings! The heavens might fall, or the Himavat might split, the earth might be rent, or the waters of the ocean might dry up, but my words shall never be futile!' Hearing those words of Achyuta in reply, Draupadi looked obliquely at her third husband (Arjuna). And, O mighty king, Arjuna said unto Draupadi, 'O thou of beautiful coppery eyes, grieve not! O illustrious one, it shall be even as the slayer of Madhu hath said! It can never be otherwise, O beautiful one!' "Dhrishtadyumna said, 'I will slay Drona, Sikhandin will slay the grandfather. And Bhimasena will slay Duryodhana, and Dhananjaya will slay Karna. And, O sister, assisted by Rama and Krishna, we are invincible in battle by even the slayer himself of Vritra--what are the sons of Dhritarashtra?'" Vaisampayana continued, "After these words had been spoken, all the heroes there turned their faces towards Vasudeva, who then in their midst began to speak as follows." SECTION XIII "Vasudeva said, 'O lord of earth, if I had been present at Dwaraka, then, O king, this evil would not have befallen thee! And, O irrepressible one, coming unto the gambling-match, even if uninvited by the son of Amvika (Dhritarashtra), or Duryodhana, or by the other Kauravas, I would have prevented the game from taking place, by showing its many evils, summoning to my aid Bhishma and Drona and Kripa, and Vahlika! O exalted one, for thy sake I would have told the son of Vichitravirya--_O foremost of monarchs, let thy sons have nothing to do with dice!_--I would have shown the many evils (of dice) through which thou hast fallen into such distress and the son of Virasena was formerly deprived of his kingdom! O king, unthought-of evils, befall a man from dice! I would have described how a man once engaged in the game continueth to play (from desire of victory). Women, dice, hunting and drinking to which people become addicted in consequence of temptation, have been regarded as the four evils that deprive a man of prosperity. And those versed in the _Sastras_ are of opinion that evils attend upon all these. They also that are addicted to dice know all its evils. O thou of mighty arms, appearing before the son of Amvika, I would have pointed out that through dice men in a day lose their possessions, and fall into distress, and are deprived of their untasted wealth, and exchange harsh words! O perpetuator of the Kuru race, I would have pointed out these and other attendant evils! If he had accepted my words thus addressed, the welfare of the Kurus as also virtue itself would both have been secured! And, O foremost of kings, if he had rejected my gentle counsels offered as medicine, then, O best of the Bharata race, I would have compelled him by force! And, if those who wait at his court, professing to be his friends but in reality his foes, had supported him, then I would have slain them all, along with those gamblers, there present! O Kauravya, it is owing to my absence from the _Anartta_ country at that time that thou hast fallen into such distress begot of dice! O thou best of Kurus, O son of Pandu, on arriving at Dwarka I learnt from Yuyudhana all about thy calamity! And, O foremost of kings, directly I heard it with a heart sore agitated by grief, have I speedily come here wishing to see thee, O king! Alas! O bull of the Bharata race, ye have all fallen into dire distress! I see thee with thy brothers plunged in misfortune!'" SECTION XIV "Yudhishthira said, 'O Krishna, why wert thou absent (from the Anartta country)? And, O descendant of the Vrishni race, while thou wert away, where didst thou dwell? And what didst thou do while out of thy kingdom?' "Krishna said, 'O bull of the Bharata race, I had gone for the purpose of destroying the (ranging) city Salwa. And, O foremost of the Kauravas, listen to the reasons I had for so doing! The heroic son of Damaghosha, the well-known king Sisupala of mighty arms and great energy, was slain by me, O best of Bharatas, at thy _Rajasuya_ sacrifice, because that wicked one could not from anger bear to see the first worship offered to me! Hearing that he had been slain, Salwa, burning with fierce anger, came to Dwaraka, while, O Bharata, it was empty, myself being away, residing with you here. And having arrived there on a car made of precious metals and hence called the _Souva_, he had an encounter with the youthful princes of the Vrishni race--those bulls of that line--and fought with them mercilessly. And slaughtering many youthful Vrishnis of heroic valour, the wicked one devastated all the gardens of the city. And, O thou of mighty arms, he said, "Where is that wretch of the Vrishni race, Vasudeva, the evil-souled son of Vasudeva? I will humble in battle the pride of that person so eager for fight! Tell me truly, _O Anarttas_! I will go there where he is. And after killing that slayer of Kansa and Kesi, will I return! By my weapon I swear that I will not return without slaying him!" And exclaiming repeatedly--_Where is he? Where is he?_ the lord of Saubha rusheth to this place and that, desirous of encountering me in battle. And Salwa also said, "Impelled by wrath for the destruction of Sisupala I shall today send to the mansion of Yama that treacherous miscreant of mean mind." And, O king, he further said, "That Janardana shall I slay, who, wretch that he is, hath killed my brother who was but a boy of tender years, and who was slain not on the field of battle, unprepared as he was!" Having, O great king, wailed thus, and having, O son of the Kuru race, abused me thus, he rose into the sky on his car of precious metals capable of going anywhere at will! On returning (to my kingdom) I heard what, O Kaurava, the evil-minded and wicked king of Maticka had said regarding myself! And, O descendant of the Kuru race, I was agitated with wrath, and, O king, having reflected upon everything, I set my heart upon slaying him! And, learning, O Kauravya, of his oppression of the _Anarttas_, of his abuse of myself, and of his excessive arrogance, I resolved upon the destruction of that wretch! And, O lord of earth, I accordingly set out (from my city), for slaying the (lord of) the Saubha. And searching him here and there, I found him in an island in the midst of the ocean! Then, O king, blowing my conch called the _Panchajanya_ obtained from the sea, and challenging Salwa to combat, I stood for the fight! At that instant, I had an encounter with numerous Danavas, all of whom, however, I subdued and prostrated on the ground. O mighty-armed one, it was owing to this affair that I could not then come (unto thee)! As soon as I heard of the unfair game of dice at Hastinapura, I have come here desirous of seeing ye who have been plunged in distress.'" SECTION XV "Yudhishthira said, 'O illustrious Vasudeva of mighty arms, tell thou in detail of the death of the lord of Saubha. My curiosity hath not been appeased by thy narration.' "Vasudeva said, 'O mighty-armed king, hearing that the son of Srutaslavas (Sisupala) had been slain by me, Salwa, O best of the Bharata race, came to the city of Dwaravati! And, O son of Pandu, the wicked king, stationing his forces in array, besieged that city around and above. And stationing himself in the upper regions, the king began his fight with the city. And that encounter commenced with a thick shower of weapons from all sides. And, O bull of the Bharata race, the city at that time was well-fortified on all sides, according to the science (of fortification), with pennons, and arches, and combatants, and walls and turrets, and engines, and miners, and streets barricaded with spiked wood-works and towers and edifices with gate-ways well-filled with provisions, and engines for hurling burning brands and fires, and vessels of deer-skins (for carrying water), and trumpets, tabors, and drums, lances and forks, and _Sataghnis_, and plough-shares, rockets, balls of stone and battle-axes and other weapons and shield embossed with iron, and engines for hurling balls and bullets and hot liquids! And the city was also well-defended by numerous cars, and, O tiger among Kurus, by Gada and Shamva and Uddhava and others, and by warriors of prowess tried in battle, all well-born and capable of encountering any foe! And these all placing themselves on commanding posts, aided by cavalry and standard-bearers, began to defend the town. And Ugrasena and Uddhava and others, to prevent carelessness, proclaimed throughout the city that nobody should drink. And all the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, well-knowing that they would be slain by Salwa if they behaved carelessly, remained sober and watchful. And the police soon drove out of the city all mimes and dancers and singers of the Anartta country. And all the bridges over rivers were destroyed, and boats forbidden to ply, and the trenches (around the city) were spiked with poles at the bottom. And the land around the city for full two miles was rendered uneven, and holes and pits were dug thereon, and combustibles were secreted below the surface. Our fort, O sinless one, is naturally strong and always well-defended and filled with all kinds of weapons! And in consequence of the preparations made, our city was more prepared than ever to meet the foe. And, O chief of the Bharatas, in consequence of all this, the city looked like that of Indra himself. And, O king, at the time of Salwa's approach, nobody could either enter or leave the town of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas without presenting the sign that had been agreed upon. And all the streets of the town and the open spaces were filled with numerous elephants and horses! And, O thou of mighty arms, the combatants were all specially gratified with allowances and wages, and rations, and weapons, and dresses! And amongst the combatants there was none who was not paid in gold, and none who was not paid at all, and none who was not somehow obliged, and none who was not of tried valour! And, O thou of eyes like lotus-leaves, it was thus Dwaraka, abounding in well-ordered arrangements, was defended by Ahuka (Ugrasena)!'" SECTION XVI "Vasudeva continued, 'O king of kings, Salwa, the lord of Saubha, came towards our city with an immense force consisting of infantry, cavalry and elephants! And the army headed by king Salwa, consisting of four kinds of forces, occupied a level ground commanding a copious water-supply. And forsaking cemeteries and temples dedicated to the gods, and sacred trees, and grounds covered by ant-hills, that host occupied every other place. And the roads (leading to the city) were blocked up by the divisions of the army, and the secret entrances also were all blocked up by the enemy's camp. And, O Kauravya, like unto the lord of birds (Garuda), the ruler of Saubha rushed towards Dwaraka, bringing with him, O bull among men, his host equipped with all kinds of arms, skilled in all weapons, consisting of a dense display of cars and elephants and cavalry abounding in banners, and well-paid and well-fed foot-soldiers possessed of great strength and bearing every mark of heroism and furnished with wonderful chariots and bows. And beholding the army of Salwa, the youthful princes of the Vrishni race resolved to encounter it sallying out of the city. And, O king, Charudeshna, Samva, and the mighty warrior Pradyumna, O descendant of the Kuru race, sallied out, ascending on their chariots, and clad in mail, and decked with ornaments, with colours flying, resolved to encounter the mighty and countless host of Salwa! And Samva taking up his bows eagerly attacked on the field of battle Kshemavriddhi, the commander of Salwa's forces and his chief counsellor also! And, O thou foremost of Bharatas, the son of Jambavati then began to shower arrows in a continuous stream even as Indra showereth down rain! And, O mighty king, then Kshemavriddhi, the commander of Salwa's forces, bore that shower of arrows, immovable as the Himavat! And, O foremost of kings, Kshemavriddhi on his part, discharged at Samva a mightier volley of shafts, aided by his powers of illusion! And dispersing by counter illusion that discharge inspired by illusion, Samva showered on his (adversary's) car a thousand arrows! Then pierced by the shafts of Samva and overwhelmed there with those of Kshemavriddhi, the commander of the hostile host, left the field by the help of his fleet steed! And when the wicked general of Salwa had left the field, a mighty Daitya called Vegavat rushed at my son! And, O best of monarchs, thus attacked, the heroic Samva, the perpetuator of the Vrishni race, bore that onset of Vegavat, keeping his ground. And, O son of Kunti, the heroic Samva, of prowess incapable of being baffled, whirling a quickly-going mace, hurled it speedily at Vegavat! And, O king, struck with that mace, Vegavat fell down on the ground, like a weather-beaten and faded lord of the forest of decayed roots! And on that heroic Asura of mighty energy, being slain with the mace, my son entered within that mighty host and began to fight with all. And, O great king, a well-known Danava named Vivindhya, a mighty warrior wielding a large and powerful bow, encountered Charudeshna! And, O monarch, the encounter between Charudeshna and Vivindhya was as fierce as that in days of yore between Vritra and Vasava! And enraged with each other the combatants pierced each other with their arrows, uttering loud roars like unto two powerful lions! Then the son of Rukmini fixed on his bow-string a mighty weapon possessing the splendour of fire or the sun, and capable of destroying all foes, having first vivified it with incantations! Then, O monarch, that mighty warrior my son, fired with wrath, challenged Vivindhya and discharged the weapon at him. And the Danava struck with that weapon, fell down on the ground a lifeless corpse! And beholding Vivindhya slain, and the whole host waver, Salwa advanced again on his beautiful car capable of going everywhere. And, O king of mighty arms, beholding Salwa on that beautiful car of his, the combatants of Dwaraka wavered with fear! But, O thou of the Kuru race, Pradyumna sallied out, and, O great king, bidding the Anarttas be of good cheer, said, "Waver ye not, and staying behold me fight! Even I shall, by force, repel that car with Salwa on it! Ye Yadavas, this day, I shall, with my weapons like unto serpents discharged from my bow with my hand, destroy this host of the lord of Saubha! Be of good cheer, ye all! Fear not! The lord of Saubha will be slain today! Attacked by me, the wretch will meet with destruction together with his car!" O son of Pandu, upon Pradyumna speaking thus with cheerful heart, the Yadava host, O hero, remained on the field, and began to fight cheerfully!'" SECTION XVII "Vasudeva continued, 'O bull of the Bharata race, having spoken thus unto the Yadavas, the son of Rukmini (Pradyumna) ascended his golden car. And the car he rode was drawn by excellent steeds in mail. And over it stood a standard bearing the figure of a _Makara_ with gaping mouth and fierce as Yama. And with his steeds, more flying than running on the ground, he rushed against the foe. And the hero equipped with quiver and sword, with fingers cased in leather, twanged his bow possessed of the splendour of the lightning, with great strength, and transferring it from hand to hand, as if in contempt of the enemy, spread confusion among the Danavas and other warriors of the city of Saubha. And as hot in contempt of the foe, and continuously slew the Danavas in battle, no one could mark the slightest interval between his successive shafts. And the colour of his face changed not, and his limbs trembled not. And people only heard his loud leonine roars indicative of wonderful valour. And the aquatic monster with mouth wide open, that devourer of all fishes, placed on golden flag-staff of that best of cars, struck terror into the hearts of Salwa's warriors. And, O king, Pradyumna, the mower of foes rushed with speed against Salwa himself so desirous of an encounter! And, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, braved by the heroic Pradyumna in that mighty battle, the angry Salwa could ill bear the challenge! And that conqueror of hostile cities, Salwa, maddened by anger, descended from his beautiful car of unchecked speed, resolved to encounter Pradyumna. And the people beheld the fight between Salwa and the foremost of Vrishni heroes, which was even like unto the encounter between Vasava with Vali. And, O hero, mounting on his beautiful car decked with gold and furnished with flags and flag-staffs and quivers, the illustrious and mighty Salwa began to discharge his arrows at Pradyumna! Pradyumna also by the energy of his arms, overwhelmed Salwa in the combat by a thick shower of arrows. The king of Saubha, however, thus attacked in battle by Pradyumna, endured him not, but discharged at my son arrows that were like blazing fire. But the mighty Pradyumna parried off that arrowy shower. Beholding this, Salwa rained on my son other weapons of blazing splendour. Then, O foremost of monarchs, pierced by the shafts of Salwa, the son of Rukmini discharged without loss of time an arrow that was capable of entering the vitals of a foe in fight. And that winged shaft shot by my son, piercing Salwa's mail, entered his heart--whereupon he fell down, in a swoon. And beholding the heroic king Salwa fallen down deprived of sense, the foremost of the Danavas fled away rending the ground beneath their feet. And, O lord of the earth, the army of Salwa sent up exclamations of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ seeing their king, the lord of Saubha, drop down bereft of sense! And O son of the Kuru race, regaining his senses, the mighty Salwa rose and all of a sudden discharged his arrows on Pradyumna. Then the heroic and mighty armed Pradyumna, sorely pierced by his adversary about his throat, was enfeebled on his car. And, O mighty king, wounding the son of Rukmini, Salwa sent up a shout like unto the roar of a lion, and filling the entire earth with it! And, O Bharata, when my son became senseless, Salwa, without losing a moment, again discharged at him other shafts difficult to bear. And pierced with numberless arrows and deprived of his senses, Pradyumna, O chief of the Kuru race, became motionless on the field of battle!'" SECTION XVIII "Vasudeva continued, 'O king, afflicted with the arrows of Salwa, when Pradyumna became senseless the Vrishnis who had come to the fight were all disheartened and filled with grief! And the combatants of the Vrishni and Andhaka races burst into exclamations of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ while great joy was felt by the enemy and beholding him thus deprived of sense, his trained charioteer, the son of Daruka, soon carried him off the field by the help of his steeds. The car had not gone far when that best of warriors regained his senses, and taking up his bow addressed his charioteer, saying, "O son of the Suta tribe, what hast thou done? Why dost thou go leaving the field of battle? This is not the custom of the Vrishni heroes in battle! O son of a Suta, hast thou been bewildered at the sight of a Salwa in that fierce encounter? Or hast thou been disheartened, beholding the fight? O! tell me truly thy mind!" The charioteer answered, "O son of Janardana, I have not been confounded, nor hath fear taken possession of me. On the other hand, O son of Kesava, the task, I ween, of vanquishing Salwa is difficult for thee! Therefore, O hero, I am slowly retiring from the field. This wretch is stronger than thou art! It behoveth a charioteer to protect the warrior on the car, however, when he is deprived of his senses! O thou gifted with length of days, thou shouldst always be protected by me, even as it behoveth thee to protect me! Thinking that the warrior on the car should always be protected (by his charioteer), I am carrying thee away! Further, O thou of mighty arms, thou art alone, while the Danavas are many. Thinking, O son of Rukmini, that thou art not equal to them in the encounter, I am going away!"' "Vasudeva continued, 'When the charioteer had spoken thus, he, O Kauravya, who hath the _makara_ for his mark replied unto him, saying, "Turn the car! O son of Daruka, never do so again; never, O Suta, turn thou from the fight, while I am alive! He is no son of the Vrishni race who forsaketh the field or slayeth the foe fallen at his feet and crying _I am thine!_ or killeth a woman, a boy, or an old man, or a warrior in distress, deprived of his car or with his weapons broken! Thou art born in the race of charioteers and trained to thy craft! And, O son of Daruka, thou art acquainted with the customs of the Vrishnis in battle! Versed as thou art with all the customs of the Vrishnis in battle, do thou, O Suta, never again fly from the field as thou hast done! What will the irrepressible Madhava, the elder brother of Gada, say to me when he heareth that I have left the field of battle in bewilderment or that I have been struck on the back--a run-away from the combat! What will the elder brother of Kesava, the mighty-armed Baladeva, clad in blue and inebriate with wine, say, when he returneth? What also, O Suta, will that lion among men, the grand-son of Sini (Satyaki), that great warrior, say on hearing that I have forsaken the fight? And, O charioteer, what will the ever-victorious Shamva, the irrepressible Charudeshna, and Gada, and Sarana, and Akrura also of mighty arms, say unto me! What also will the wives of the Vrishni heroes when they meet together, say of me who had hitherto been considered as brave and well-conducted, respectable and possessed of manly pride? They will even say _This Pradyumna is a coward who cometh here, leaving the battle! Fie on him!_ They will never say, _Well done!_ Ridicule, with exclamation of _Fie_, is to me or a person like me, O Suta, more than death! Therefore, do thou never again leave the field of battle! Reposing the charge on me, Hari the slayer of Madhu, hath gone to the sacrifice of the Bharata lion (Yudhishthira)! Therefore, I cannot bear to be quiet now! O Suta, when the brave Kritavarman was sallying out to encounter Salwa, I prevented him, saying _I will resist Salwa. Do thou stay!_ For honouring me the son of Hridika desisted! Having left the field of battle, what shall I say unto that mighty warrior when I meet him? When that irrepressible one of mighty arms--the holder of the conch, the discus, and the mace--returneth, what shall I say unto him of eyes like lotus leaves? Satyaki, and Valadeva, and others of the Vrishni and Andhaka races always boast of me! What shall I say unto them? O Suta, having left the field of battle and with wounds of arrows on my back while being carried away by thee, I shall, by no means, be able to live! Therefore, O son of Daruka, turn that car speedily, and never do so again even in times of greatest danger! I do not, O Suta, think life worth much, having fled from the field like a coward, and my back pierced, with the arrows (of the enemy)! Hast thou ever seen me, O son of Suta, fly in fear from the field of battle like a coward? O son of Daruka, it behoved thee not to forsake the battle, while my desire of fight was not yet gratified! Do thou, therefore, go back to the field."'" SECTION XIX "Vasudeva continued, 'Thus addressed, the son of Suta race replied in haste unto Pradyumna, that foremost of all endued with strength, in these sweet words, "O son of Rukmini, I fear not to guide the horses on the field of battle, and I am acquainted also with the customs of the Vrishnis in war! It is not otherwise in the least! But, O thou blest with length of days, those that guide the car are taught that the warrior on the car is, by all means, to be protected by his charioteer! Thou wert also much afflicted! Thou wert much wounded by the arrows shot by Salwa. Thou wert also deprived of thy senses, O hero! Therefore is it that I retired from the field. But, O chief of the Satwatas, now that thou hast regained thy senses without much ado, do thou, O son of Kesava, witness my skill in guiding the horses! I have been begotten by Daruka, and I have been duly trained! I will now penetrate into the celebrated array of Salwa without fear!"' "Vasudeva continued, 'Saying this, O hero, the charioteer, pulling the reins, began to lead the horses with speed towards the field of battle. And, O king, struck with the whip and pulled by the reins those excellent steeds seemed to be flying in the air, performing various beautiful motions, now circular, now similar, now dissimilar, now to the right, now to the left. And, O king, those steeds understanding as it were the intention of Daruka's son endued with such lightness of hand, burned with energy, and seemed to go without touching the ground with their feet! That bull among men wheeled round Salwa's host so easily that they who witnessed it wondered exceedingly. And the lord of Saubha, unable to bear that manoeuvre of Pradyumna, instantly sent three shafts at the charioteer of his antagonist! The charioteer, however, without taking any note of the force of those arrows, continued to go along the right. Then the lord of Saubha, O hero, again discharged at my son by Rukmini, a shower of various kinds of weapons! But that slayer of hostile heroes, the son of Rukmini, showing with a smile his lightness of hand, cut all those weapons off as they reached him. Finding his arrows cut by Pradyumna, the lord of Saubha, having recourse to the dreadful illusion natural to _Asuras_ began to pour a thick shower of arrows. But cutting into pieces those powerful Daitya weapons shot at him in mid-career by means of his _Brahma_ weapon, Pradyumna discharged winged shafts of other kings. And these delighting in blood, warding off the shafts of Daitya, pierced his head, bosom and face. And at those wounds Salwa fell down senseless. And on the mean-minded Salwa falling down, afflicted with Pradyumna's arrows, the son of Rukmini aimed another arrow at him, capable of destroying every foe. And beholding that arrow worshipped by all the Dasarhas, and flaming like fire and fatal as a venomous snake, fixed on the bow-string, the firmament was filled with exclamations of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ Then all the celestials with Indra and the lord of treasures (Kubera) at their head sent Narada and the god of wind endued with the speed of the mind. And these two approaching the son of Rukmini delivered unto him the message of the celestial, saying, O hero, king Salwa is not to be slain by thee! Do thou draw back the arrow. He is unslayable by thee in fight! There breatheth not a person who cannot be killed by that arrow! O thou of mighty arms, the Creator hath ordained his death at the hands of Krishna, the son of Devaki! Let this be not falsified!--Thereupon with a glad heart, Pradyumna withdrew that best of arrows from his excellent bow and deposited it back in his quiver. And then, O foremost of kings, the mighty Salwa, afflicted with the arrows of Pradyumna, rose disheartened, and speedily went away. Then O king, the wicked Salwa, thus afflicted by the Vrishnis, mounted on his car of precious metals, and leaving Dwaraka scudded through the skies!'" SECTION XX "Vasudeva said, 'When Salwa had left the city of the Anarttas, I returned to it, O king, on the completion of thy great _Rajasuya_ sacrifice! On my arrival I found Dwaraka shorn of its splendour, and, O great monarch, there were not sounds of Vedic recitation or sacrificial offering. And the excellent damsels were all destitute of ornaments, and the gardens were devoid of beauty. And alarmed by the aspect, I asked the son of Hridika saying, "Why is it that the men and women of the city of the Vrishnis are so woe-begone, O tiger among men?" O thou best of kings thus asked the son of Hridika (Kritavarman) relate to me in detail the invasion of the city by Salwa, and his subsequent departure from it. And, O thou foremost of Bharatas, hearing all, even then I made up my mind to slay Salwa. And encouraging the citizens, O best of Bharatas, I cheerfully addressed king Ahuka, and Anakdundhuvi, and the chief heroes of the Vrishni race, saying, "Do ye, O bulls among the Yadavas, stay in the city, taking every care, and know that I go to slay Salwa! I return not to the city of Dwaravati without slaying him. I will again come to ye having compassed the destruction of Salwa together with his car of precious metals. Do ye strike up the sharp and middle and flat notes of the Dundhuvi so dreadful to foes!" And O thou bull of the Bharata race, thus adequately encouraged by me, those heroes cheerfully said unto me, "Go and slay the enemies!" And thus receiving the benedictions of those warriors with glad hearts, and causing the Brahmanas to utter auspicious words and bowing down to the best of the regenerate ones, and to Siva also, I set out on my car unto which were yoked the horses _Saivya_, and _Sugriva_, filling all sides with the clatter (of my wheels) and blowing that best of conchs, the _Panchajanya_! And, O king, O tiger among men, accompanied by my redoubted and victorious army consisting of the four kinds of the forces so persevering in battle, I set out. And leaving many countries, and mountains, crowned with trees, and pieces of water, and streams, I at last arrived at the country of Matrikavarta. It is there, O thou tiger among men, that I heard that Salwa was coursing on his car of precious metals near the ocean, and I followed in his pursuit. And, O thou slayer of thy foes, having reached the main, Salwa on his car of costly metals was in the midst of the deep heaving with billows! And on seeing me from a distance, O Yudhishthira, that one of wicked soul himself challenged me repeatedly to the fight. And many arrows capable of piercing to the quick, discharged from my bow reached not his car. And at this I was wroth! And, O king, that essentially sinful wretch of a Daitya's son of irrepressible energy, on his part began to shoot thousand upon thousands of arrows in torrents! And, O Bharata, he rained shafts upon my soldiers and upon my charioteer and upon my steeds! But without thinking of the shafts, we continued the conflict. Then the warriors following Salwa poured on me straight arrows by thousands. And the Asuras covered my horses and my car and Daruka with arrows capable of piercing the very vitals. And, O hero, I could not at that time see either my horses, or my car, or my charioteer Daruka! And I with my army was covered with weapons. And, O son of Kunti, superhumanly skilled in weapons, I also let fly from my bow arrows by tens of thousands, inspiring them with _mantras_! But as that car of costly metals was in the sky, full two miles off, it could not, O Bharata, be seen by my troops. They could therefore only remaining on the field of battle look on like spectators in a place of amusement, cheering me on by shouts loud as the roar of the lion, and also by the sound of their clapping. And the tinted arrows shot by the fore-part of hand penetrated into the bodies of the Danavas like biting insects. And then arose cries in the car of precious metals from those that were dying of wounds by those sharp arrows and falling into the waters of the mighty ocean. And the Danavas deprived of their arms, necks, and wearing the form of _Kavandhas_,--fell, sending up tremendous roars. And as they fell they were devoured by animals living in the waters of the ocean. And then I powerfully blew the _Panchajanya_ obtained from the waters and graceful as the lotus-stalk and white as milk or the _Kunda_ flower or the moon or silver. And seeing his soldiers fall, Salwa the possessor of the car of precious metals, began to fight with the help of illusion. And then he began to ceaselessly hurl at me maces, and ploughshares, and winged darts and lances, and javelins, and battle-axes, and swords and arrows blazing like javelins and thunderbolts, and nooses, and broad swords, and bullets from barrels, and shafts, and axes, and rockets. And permitting them to come towards me, I soon destroyed them all by counter-illusion. And on this illusion being rendered ineffectual, he began the contest with mountain peaks. And, O Bharata, then there was darkness and light alternately, and the day was now fair, and now gloomy, and now hot, and now cold. And there was a perfect shower of coals, and ashes, and weapons. And creating such illusion the enemy fought with me. And ascertaining it I destroyed his illusion by counter-illusion. And in the due time I showered arrows all round. And then, O mighty king, the dome of heaven blazed as with a hundred suns, and, O son of Kunti, with one hundred moons, and thousands and ten thousands of stars! And then none could ascertain whether it was day or night, or distinguish the points of the horizon. And, becoming bewildered, I fixed on my bowstring the weapon called _Pragnastra_. And, O son of Kunti, the weapon went like unto flakes of pure cotton blown away by the winds! And a great fight took place, calculated to make the down on one's body stand on end. And O best of monarchs, having regained light, I again fought with the enemy!'" SECTION XXI "Vasudeva said, 'O thou tiger among men, my great enemy king Salwa, thus encountered by me in battle, again ascended the sky. And O mighty monarch, inspired with the desire of victory, that wicked one hurled at me _Sataghnis_, and mighty maces, and flaming lances, and stout clubs, and as the weapons came along the sky, I speedily resisted them with my swift arrows, and cut them in two or three pieces before they came at me. And there was a great noise in the welkins. And Salwa covered Daruka, and my steeds, and my car also with hundreds of straight shafts. Then, O hero, Daruka, evidently about to faint, said unto me, "Afflicted with the shafts of Salwa I stay in the field, because it is my duty to do so. But I am incapable of doing so (any longer). My body hath become weak!" Hearing these piteous words of my charioteer, I looked at him, and found the driver wounded with arrows. Nor was there a spot on his breasts or the crown of his head, or body or his arms which was not, O thou foremost of sons of Pandu, covered with shafts! And blood flowed profusely from his wounds inflicted by arrows, and he looked like unto a mountain of red chalk after a heavy shower. And, O thou of mighty arms, seeing the charioteer with the reins in his hands thus pierced and enfeebled by the shafts of Salwa in the field of battle, I cheered him up! "'And, O Bharata, about this time, a certain person, having his home in Dwaraka quickly coming to my car, addressed me like a friend, delivering to me, O hero, a message from Ahuka! He seemed to be one of Ahuka's followers. And sadly and in a voice choked in sorrow, know, O Yudhishthira, he said words--"O warrior, Ahuka, the lord of Dwaraka, hath said these words unto thee! O Kesava, hear what thy father's friend sayeth: _O son of the Vrishni race, O thou irrepressible one, in thy absence today Salwa, coming to Dwaraka, hath by main force killed Vasudeva! Therefore, no need of battle any more. Cease, O Janardana! Do thou defend Dwaraka! This is thy principal duty!_"--Hearing these words of his, my heart became heavy, and I could not ascertain what I should do and what I should not. And, O hero, hearing of that great misfortune, I mentally censured Satyaki, and _Baladeva_, and also that mighty Pradyumna. Having reposed on them the duty of protecting Dwaraka and Vasudeva, I had gone, O son of the Kuru race, to effect the destruction of Salwa's city. And in a sorrowful heart, I asked myself,--Doth that destroyer of foes, the mighty-armed _Baladeva_, live, and Satyaki, and the son of Rukmini and Charudeshna possessed of prowess, and Shamva and others? For, O thou tiger among men, these living, even the bearer himself of the thunderbolt could by no means destroy Suta's son (Vasudeva)! And, thought I, _It is plain that Vasudeva is dead and equally plain that the others with Baladeva at their head have been deprived of life_--This was my certain conclusion. And, O mighty king, thinking of the destruction of those all, I was overwhelmed with grief! And it was in this state of mind that I encountered Salwa afresh. And now I saw, O great monarch, Vasudeva himself falling from the car of precious metals! And, O warrior I swooned away, and, O king of men, my sire seemed like unto Yayati after the loss of his merit, falling towards the earth from heaven! And like unto a luminary whose merit hath been lost saw my father falling, his head-gear foul and flowing loosely, and his hair and dress disordered. And then the bow _Sharanga_ dropped from my hand, and, O son of Kunti I swooned away! I sat down on the side of the car. And, O thou descendant of the Bharata race, seeing me deprived of consciousness on the car, and as if dead, my entire host exclaimed _Oh_! and _Alas_! And my prone father with out-stretched arms and lower limbs, appeared like a dropping bird. And him thus falling, O thou of mighty arms, O hero, the hostile warriors bearing in their hands lances and axes struck grievously! And (beholding this) my heart trembled! and soon regaining my consciousness, O warrior, I could not see in that mighty contest either the car of costly metals, or the enemy Salwa, or my old father! Then I concluded in my mind that it was certainly illusion. And recovering my senses, I again began to discharge arrows by hundreds.'" SECTION XXII "Vasudeva continued, 'Then O thou foremost of the Bharata race, taking up my beautiful bow, I began to cut off with my arrows the heads of the enemies of the celestials, from off that car of costly metals! And I began to discharge from the _Sharanga_ many well-looking arrows of the forms of snakes, capable of going at a great height and possessing intense energy. And, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, I could not then see the car of costly metals, for it had vanished, through illusion! I was then filled with wonder! That host of Danavas then, O Bharata, of frightful visages and hair, set up a loud howl while I was waiting for it, in that fierce battle. I then, with the object of destroying them, fixed on my bow-string the weapon capable of piercing the foes if but his sound was inaudible. Upon this, their shouts ceased. But those Danavas that had sent up that shout were all slain by those shafts of mine blazing as the Sun himself, and capable of striking at the perception of sound alone. And after the shout had ceased at one place, O mighty king, another yell proceeded from another quarter. Thitherto also I sent my shafts. In this way, O Bharata, the Asuras began to send up yells in all the ten quarters above and across. These were all slain by me, _viz_., those that were in the skies and that were invisible, with arrows of diverse forms, and celestial weapons inspired with _mantras_. Then, O hero, that car of precious metals capable of going anywhere at will, bewildering my eyes, reappeared at Pragjyotisha! And then the destroying Danavas of fierce forms suddenly drowned me with a mighty shower of rocks. And, O thou foremost of monarchs, torrents of rocks falling upon me covered me up, and I began to grow like an ant-hill (with its summits and peaks)! And covered along with my horses and charioteer and flagstaffs, with crags on all sides, I disappeared from sight altogether. Then those foremost of heroes of the Vrishni race who were of my army were struck with panic, and all on a sudden began to fly in all directions. And beholding me in that plight, O king, the heaven, the firmament, and the earth were filled with exclamation of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ And then, O monarch, my friends filled with sorrow and grief began to weep and wail with heavy hearts! And delight filled the hearts of the enemies. And O thou who never waverest, I heard of this after I had defeated the foe! And then wielding the thunderbolt, that favourite (weapon) of Indra, capable of riving stones, I destroyed that entire mass of crags! But my steeds, afflicted with the weight of the stones and almost on the point of death began to tremble. And beholding me, all my friends rejoiced again even as men rejoice on seeing the sun rise in the sky, dispersing the clouds. And seeing my horses almost in their last gasp for breath, afflicted with that load of stones, my charioteer said unto me in words suitable to the occasion, "O thou of the Vrishni race, behold Salwa the owner of the car of precious metals sitting (yonder). Do not disregard him! Do thou exert thyself! Do thou abandon thy mildness and consideration for Salwa. Slay Salwa, O thou of mighty arms! O Kesava, do not let him live! O hero, O thou destroyer of those that are not thy friends (enemies), an enemy should be slain with every exertion! Even a weak enemy who is under the feet of a man endued with strength, should not be disregarded by the latter: what (shall I say) of one that dareth us to the fight? Therefore, O thou tiger among men, putting forth every exertion, slay him, O lord, O thou foremost of the Vrishni race! Do thou not delay again! This one is not capable of being vanquished by milder measures. And he cannot in my opinion be thy friend who is fighting thee and who devastated Dwaraka!" O Kaunteya, hearing such words of my charioteer, and knowing that what he said was true, I directed my attention to the fight (afresh), with the view of slaying Salwa and destroying the car of costly metals! And, O hero, saying unto Daruka, "_Stay a moment_" I fixed on my bow-string my favourite weapon of fire, blazing and of celestial origin, of irresistible force, and incapable of being baffled, bursting with energy, capable of penetrating into everything, and of great splendour! And saying, "_Destroy the car of precious metals together with all those enemies that are in it_" I launched with the might of my arms and in wrath with _mantras_, the great powerful discus _Sudarsana_ which reduceth to ashes in battle Yakshas and Rakshasas and Danavas and kings born in impure tribes, sharp-edged like the razor, and without stain, like unto Yama the destroyer, and incomparable, and which killeth enemies. And rising into the sky, it seemed like a second sun of exceeding effulgence at the end of the _Yuga_. And approaching the town of Saubha whose splendour had disappeared, the discus went right through it, even as a saw divideth a tall tree. And cut in twain by the energy of the Sudarsana it fell like the city of Tripura shaken by the shafts of Maheswara. And after the town of Saubha had fallen, the discus came back into my hands. And taking it up I once more hurled it with force saying, "_Go thou unto Salwa_." The discus then cleft Salwa in twain who in that fierce conflict was at the point of hurling a heavy mace. And with its energy it set the foe ablaze. And after that brave warrior was slain, the disheartened Danava women fled in all directions, exclaiming _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ And taking my chariot in front of the town of Saubha I cheerfully blew my conch and gladdened the hearts of my friends. And beholding their town, high as the peak of the Meru, with its palaces and gate-ways utterly destroyed, and all ablaze, the Danavas fled in fear. And having thus destroyed the town of Saubha and slain Salwa, I returned to the Anarttas and delighted my friends. And, O king, it is for this reason that I could not come to the city named after the elephant (Hastinapura), O destroyer of hostile heroes! O warrior, if I had come, Suyodhana would not have been alive or the match at dice would not have taken place. What can I do now? It is difficult to confine the waters after the dam is broken!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having addressed the Kaurava thus, that foremost of male persons, of mighty arms, the slayer of Madhu, possessed of every grace, saluting the Pandavas, prepared for departure. And the mighty-armed hero reverentially saluted Yudhishthira the just, and the king in return and Bhima also smelt the crown of his head. And he was embraced by Arjuna, and the twins saluted him with reverence. And he was duly honoured by Dhaumya, and worshipped with tears by Draupadi. And causing Subhadra and Abhimanyu to ascend his golden car, Krishna mounted it himself, worshipped by the Pandavas. And consoling Yudhishthira, Krishna set out for Dwaraka on his car resplendent as the sun and unto which were yoked the horses _Saivya_ and _Sugriva_. And after he of the Dasharha race had departed, Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Prishata, also set out for his own city, taking with him the sons of Draupadi. And the king of Chedi, Dhrishtaketu also, taking his sister with him set out for his beautiful city of Suktimati, after bidding farewell to the Pandavas. And, O Bharata, the Kaikeyas also, with the permission of Kunti's son possessed of immeasurable energy, having reverentially saluted all the Pandavas, went away. But Brahmanas and the Vaisyas and the dwellers of Yudhishthira's kingdom though repeatedly requested to go, did not leave the Pandavas. O foremost of kings, O bull of the Bharata race, the multitude that surrounded those high-souled ones in the forest of Kamyaka looked extraordinary. And Yudhishthira, honouring those high-minded Brahmanas, in due time ordered his men, saying '_Make ready the car_.'" SECTION XXIII Vaisampayana continued, "After the chief of the Dasharhas had departed, the heroic Yudhishthira, and Bhima, and Arjuna, and the twins, each looking like unto Shiva, and Krishna, and their priest, ascending costly cars unto which were yoked excellent steeds, together went into the forest. And at time of going they distributed _Nishkas_ of gold and clothes and kine unto Brahmanas versed in _Siksha_ and _Akshara_ and _mantras_. And twenty attendants followed them equipped with bows, and bowstrings, and blazing weapons, and shafts and arrows and engines of destruction. And taking the princess's clothes and the ornaments, and the nurses and the maid-servants, Indrasena speedily followed the princes on a car. And then approaching the best of Kurus, the high-minded citizens walked round him. And the principal Brahmanas of Kurujangala cheerfully saluted him. And together with his brothers, Yudhishthira the just, on his part saluted them cheerfully. And the illustrious king stopped there a little, beholding the concourse of the inhabitants of Kurujangala. And the illustrious bull among the Kurus felt for them as a father feeleth for his sons, and they too felt for the Kuru chief even as sons feel for their father! And that mighty concourse, approaching the Kuru hero, stood around him. And, O king, affected, with bashfulness, and with tears in their eyes, they all exclaimed, 'Alas, O lord! O Dharma!' And they said, 'Thou art the chief of the Kurus, and the king of us, thy subjects! Where dost thou go, O just monarch, leaving all these citizens and the inhabitants of the country, like a father leaving his sons? Fie on the cruel-hearted son of Dhritarashtra! Fie on the evil-minded son of Suvala! Fie on Karna! For, O foremost of monarchs, those wretches ever wish unto thee who art firm in virtue! Having thyself established the unrivalled city of Indraprastha of the splendour of Kailasa itself, where dost thou go, leaving it, O illustrious and just king, O achiever of extraordinary deeds! O illustrious one, leaving that peerless palace built by Maya, which possesseth the splendour of the palace of the celestials themselves, and is like unto a celestial illusion, ever guarded by the gods, where dost thou go, O son of Dharma?' And Vibhatsu knowing the ways of virtue, pleasure, and profit said unto them in a loud voice, 'Living in the forest, the king intendeth to take away the good name of his enemies! O ye with the regenerate ones at your head, versed in virtue and profit, do you approaching the ascetics separately and inclining them to grace, represent unto them what may be for our supreme good!' Upon hearing these words of Arjuna, the Brahmanas and the other orders, O king, saluting him cheerfully walked round the foremost of virtuous men! And bidding farewell unto the son of Pritha, and Vrikodara, and Dhananjaya and Yajnaseni, and the twins, and commanded by Yudhishthira, they returned to their respective abodes in the kingdom with heavy hearts." SECTION XXIV Vaisampayana said, "After they had departed, Yudhishthira the virtuous son of Kunti, unwavering in his promises, addressed all his brothers, saying, 'We shall have to dwell in the solitary forest for these twelve years. Search ye, therefore, in this mighty forest for some spot abounding in birds and deer and flowers and fruits, beautiful to behold, and auspicious, and inhabited by virtuous persons and where we may dwell pleasantly for all these years!' Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, Dhananjaya replied unto the son of Dharma, after reverencing the illustrious king as if he were his spiritual preceptor. And Arjuna said, 'Thou hast respectfully waited upon all the great and old _Rishis_. There is nothing unknown to thee in the world of men. And O bull of the Bharata race, thou hast always waited with reverence upon Brahmanas including Dwaipayana and others, and Narada of great ascetic merit, who with senses under control, ever goeth to the gates of all the world from the world of the gods unto that of Brahma, including that of the Gandharvas and Apsaras! And thou knowest, without doubt, the opinions of the Brahmanas, and, O king, their prowess also! And O monarch, thou knowest what is calculated to do us good! And O great king, we will live wherever thou likest! Here is this lake, full of sacred water, called _Dwaitavana_, abounding with flowers, and delightful to look at, and inhabited by many species of birds. If, O king, it pleaseth thee, here should we like to dwell these twelve years! Thinkest thou otherwise?' Yudhishthira replied, 'O Partha, what thou hast said recommendeth itself to me! Let us go that sacred and celebrated and large lake called _Dwaitavana_!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then the virtuous son of Pandu, accompanied by numerous Brahmanas, all went to the sacred lake called _Dwaitavana_. And Yudhishthira was surrounded by numerous Brahmanas some of whom sacrificed with fire and some without it and some of whom, devoted to the study of the Vedas, lived upon alms or were of the class called _Vanaprasthas_. And the king was also surrounded by hundreds of _Mahatmas_ crowned with ascetic success and of rigid vows. And those bulls of the Bharata race, the sons of Pandu setting out with those numerous Brahmanas, entered the sacred and delightful woods of _Dwaita_. And the king saw that mighty forest covered on the close of summer with _Salas_, and palms, and mangoes, and _Madhukas_, and _Nipas_ and _Kadamvas_ and _Sarjjas_ and _Arjunas_, and _Karnikars_, many of them covered with flowers. And flocks of peacocks and _Datyuhas_ and _Chakoras_ and _Varhins_ and _Kokilas_, seated on the tops of the tallest trees of that forest were pouring forth their mellifluous notes. And the king also saw in that forest mighty herds of gigantic elephants huge as the hills, with temporal juice trickling down in the season of rut, accompanied by herds of she-elephants. And approaching the beautiful Bhogavati (Saraswati), the king saw many ascetics crowned with success in the habitations in that forest, and virtuous men of sanctified souls clad in barks of trees and bearing matted locks on their heads. And descending from their cars, the king that foremost of virtuous men with his brothers and followers entered that forest like Indra of immeasurable energy entering heaven. And crowds of _Charanas_ and _Siddhas_, desirous of beholding the monarch devoted to truth, came towards him. And the dwellers of that forest stood surrounding that lion among kings possessed of great intelligence. And saluting all the _Siddhas_, and saluted by them in return as a king or a god should be, that foremost of virtuous men entered the forest with joined hands accompanied by all those foremost of regenerate ones. And the illustrious and virtuous king, saluted in return by those virtuous ascetics that had approached him, sat down in their midst at the foot of a mighty tree decked with flowers, like his father (Pandu) in days before. And those chiefs of the Bharata race _viz_., Bhima and Dhananjaya and the twins and Krishna and their followers, all fatigued, leaving their vehicles, sat themselves down around that best of kings. And that mighty tree bent down with the weight of creepers, with those five illustrious bowmen who had come there for rest sitting under it, looked like a mountain with (five) huge elephants resting on its side." SECTION XXV Vaisampayana said, "Having fallen into distress, those princes thus obtained at last a pleasant habitation in that forest. And there in those woods abounding with _Sala_ trees and washed by the Saraswati, they who were like so many Indras, began to sport themselves. And the illustrious king, that bull of the Kuru race, set himself to please all the _Yatis_ and _Munis_ and the principal Brahmanas in that forest, by offerings of excellent fruits and roots. And their priest, Dhaumya endued with great energy, like unto a father to those princes, began to perform the sacrificial rites of _Ishti_ and _Paitreya_ for the Pandavas residing in that great forest. And there came, as a guest, unto the abode of the accomplished Pandavas living in the wood after loss of their kingdom, the old Rishi Markandeya, possessed of intense and abundant energy. And that bull of the Kuru race, the high-souled Yudhishthira, possessed of unrivalled strength and prowess, paid his homage unto that great _Muni_, reverenced by celestials and Rishis of men, and possessed of the splendour of blazing fire. And that illustrious and all-knowing _Muni_, of unrivalled energy, beholding Draupadi and Yudhishthira and Bhima and Arjuna, in the midst of the ascetics, smiled, recollecting Rama in his mind. And Yudhishthira the just, apparently grieved at this, asked him, saying, 'All these ascetics are sorry for seeing me here. Why is it that thou alone smilest, as if in glee, in the presence of these?' Markandeya replied, 'O child, I too am sorry and do not smile in glee! Nor doth pride born of joy possess my heart! Beholding to-day thy calamity, I recollect Rama, the son of Dasaratha, devoted to truth! Even that Rama, accompanied by Lakshman, dwelt in the woods at the command of his father. O son of Pritha, I beheld him in days of old ranging with his bow on the top of the _Rishyamuka_ hills! The illustrious Rama was like unto Indra, the lord of Yama himself, and the slayer of Namuchi! Yet that sinless one had to dwell in the forest at the command of his father, accepting it as his duty. The illustrious Rama was equal unto Sakra in prowess, and invincible in battle. And yet he had to range the forest renouncing all pleasures! Therefore should no one act unrighteously, saying,--_I am mighty!_ Kings Nabhaga and Bhagiratha and others, having subjugated by truth this world bounded by the seas, (finally) obtained, O child, all the region hereafter. Therefore, should no one act unrighteously, saying,--_I am mighty!_ And, O exalted of men, the virtuous and truthful king of Kasi and Karusha was called a mad dog for having renounced his territories and riches! Therefore, should no one act unrighteously, saying,--_I am mighty!_ O best of men, O son of Pritha, the seven righteous Rishis, for having observed the ordinance prescribed by the Creator himself in the Vedas, blaze in the firmament. Therefore, should no one act unrighteously, saying,--_I am mighty!_ Behold, O king, the mighty elephants, huge as mountain cliffs and furnished with tusks, transgress not, O exalted of men, the laws of the Creator! Therefore, should none act unrighteously saying, _Might is mine!_ And, O foremost of monarchs, behold all the creatures acting according to their species, as ordained by the Creator. Therefore, should none act unrighteously, saying, _Might is mine_. O son of Pritha, in truth, and virtue, and proper behaviour, and modesty, thou hast surpassed all creatures, and thy fame and energy are as bright as fire or the Sun! Firm in thy promises, O illustrious one, having passed in the woods thy painful exile, thou wilt again, O king, snatch from the Kauravas thy blazing prosperity with the help of thy own energy!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having spoken these words unto Yudhishthira (seated) in the midst of the ascetics with friends, the great Rishi having also saluted Dhaumya and all the Pandavas set out in a northerly direction!" SECTION XXVI Vaisampayana said, "While the illustrious son of Pandu continued to dwell in the _Dwaita_ woods, that great forest became filled with Brahmanas. And the lake within that forest, ever resounding with Vedic recitations, became sacred like a second region of Brahma. And the sounds of the _Yajus_, the _Riks_, the _Samas_, and other words uttered by the Brahmanas, were exceedingly delightful to hear. And the Vedic recitations of the Brahmanas mingling with the twang of bows of the sons of Pritha, produced a union of the Brahmana and Kshatriya customs that was highly beautiful. And one evening the Rishi Vaka of the _Dalvya_ family addressed Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti seated in the midst of the Rishis, saying, 'Behold, O chief of the Kurus, O son of Pritha, the _homa_ time is come of these Brahmanas devoted to ascetic austerities, the time when the (sacred) fires have all been lit up! These all, of rigid vows, protected by thee, are performing the rites of religion in this sacred region! The descendants of Bhrigu and Angiras, along with those of Vasistha and Kasyapa, the illustrious sons of Agastya, the offspring of Atri all of excellent vows, in fact, all the foremost Brahmanas of the whole, are now united with thee! Listen, O son of the Kuru race born of Kunti, thyself with thy brothers, to the words I speak to thee! As fire aided by the wind consumeth the forest, so _Brahma_ energy mingling with _Kshatriya_ energy, and _Kshatriya_ might mingling with Brahma power, might, when they gathered force, consume all enemies! O child, he should never desire to be without Brahmanas who wisheth to subdue this and the other world for length of days! Indeed, a king slayeth his enemies having obtained a Brahmana conversant with religion and worldly affairs and freed from passion and folly. King Vali cherishing his subjects practised those duties that lead to salvation, and knew not of any other means in this world than Brahmanas. It was for this that all the desires of Virochana's son, the Asura (Vali), were ever gratified, and his wealth was ever inexhaustible. Having obtained the whole earth through the aid of the Brahmanas, he met with destruction when he began to practise wrong on them! This earth with her wealth never adoreth long as her lord a Kshatriya living without a Brahmana! The earth, however, girt by the sea, boweth unto him who is ruled by a Brahmana and taught his duties by him! Like an elephant in battle without his driver, a Kshatriya destitute of Brahmanas decreaseth in strength! The Brahmana's sight is without compare, and the Kshatriya's might also is unparalleled. When these combine, the whole earth itself cheerfully yieldeth to such a combination. As fire becoming mightier with the wind consumeth straw and wood, so kings with Brahmanas consume all foes! An intelligent Kshatriya, in order to gain what he hath not, and increase what he hath, should take counsel of Brahmanas! Therefore, O son of Kunti, for obtaining what thou hast not and increasing what thou hast, and spending what thou hast on proper objects and persons, keep thou with thee a Brahmana of reputation, of a knowledge of the Vedas, of wisdom and experience! O Yudhishthira, thou hast ever highly regarded the Brahmanas. It is for this that thy fame is great and blazeth in the three worlds!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then all those Brahmanas who were with Yudhishthira worshipped Vaka of the Dalvya race, and having heard him praise Yudhishthira became highly pleased. And Dwaipayana and Narada and Jamadagnya and Prithusravas; and Indradyumna and Bhalaki and Kritachetas and Sahasrapat; and Karnasravas and Munja and Lavanaswa and Kasyapa; and Harita and Sthulakarana and Agnivesya and Saunaka; and Kritavak and Suvakana, Vrihadaswa and Vibhavasu; and Urdharetas and Vrishamitra and Suhotra and Hotravahana; these and many other Brahmanas of rigid vows then adored Yudhishthira like Rishis adoring Purandara in heaven!" SECTION XXVII Vaisampayana said, "Exiled to the woods the sons of Pritha with Krishna seated in the evening, conversed with one another afflicted with sorrow and grief. And the handsome and well informed Krishna dear unto her lords and devoted to them, thus spake unto Yudhishthira, 'The sinful, cruel, and wicked-minded son of Dhritarashtra certainly feeleth no sorrow for us, when, O king, that evil-hearted wretch having sent thee with myself into the woods dressed in deer-skin feeleth no regret! The heart of that wretch of evil deeds must surely be made of steel when he could at that time address thee, his virtuous eldest brother, in words so harsh! Having brought thee who deservest to enjoy every happiness and never such woe, into such distress, alas, that wicked-minded and sinful wretch joyeth with his friends! O Bharata, when dressed in deer-skin thou hast set out for the woods, only four persons, O monarch, _viz_., Duryodhana, Karna, the evil-minded Sakuni, and Dussasana that bad and fierce brother of Duryodhana, did not shed tears! With the exception of these, O thou best of the Kurus, all other Kurus filled with sorrow shed tears from their eyes! Beholding this thy bed and recollecting what thou hadst before, I grieve, O king, for thee who deservest not woe and hast been brought up in every luxury! Remembering that seat of ivory in thy court, decked with jewels and beholding this seat of _kusa_ grass, grief consumeth me, O king! I saw thee, O king, surrounded in thy court by kings! What peace can my heart know in not beholding thee such now? I beheld thy body, effulgent as the sun, decked with sandal paste! Alas, grief depriveth me of my senses in beholding thee now besmeared with mud and dirt! I saw thee before, O king, dressed in silken clothes of pure white! But I now behold thee dressed in rags! Formerly, O king, pure food of every kind was carried from thy house on plates of gold for Brahmanas by thousands! And, O king, food also of the best kind was formerly given by thee unto ascetics both houseless and living in domesticity! Formerly, living in thy mansion thou hadst ever filled with food of every kind plates by thousands, and worshipped the Brahmanas gratifying every wish of theirs! What peace, O king, can my heart know in not beholding all this now? And, O great king, these thy brothers, endued with youth and decked with ear-rings, were formerly fed by cook with food of the sweet flavour and dressed with skill! Alas, O king, I now behold them all, so undeserving of woe, living in the woods and upon what the wood may yield! My heart, O King knoweth no peace! Thinking of this Bhimasena living in sorrow in the woods, doth not thy anger blaze up, even though it is time? Why doth not thy anger, O king, blaze up upon beholding the illustrious Bhimasena who ever performeth everything unaided, so fallen into distress, though deserving of every happiness? Why, O king, doth not thy anger blaze up on beholding that Bhima living in the woods who was formerly surrounded with numerous vehicles and dressed in costly apparel? This exalted personage is ready to slay all the Kurus in battle. He beareth, however, all this sorrow, only because he waiteth for the fufilment of thy promise! This Arjuna, O king, though possessed of two hands, is equal, for the lightness of his hand in discharging shafts, to (Kaitavirya) Arjuna of a thousand arms! He is even (to foes), like unto Yama himself at the end of the _Yuga_! It was by the prowess of his weapons that all the kings of the earth were made to wait upon the Brahmanas at thy sacrifice! Beholding that Arjuna that tiger among men worshipped by both the celestials and the Danavas so anxious, why, O king, dost thou not feel indignant? I grieve, O Bharata, that thy wrath doth not blaze up at sight of that son of Pritha in exile, that prince who deserveth not such distress and who hath been brought up in every luxury! Why doth not thy wrath blaze up at sight of that Arjuna in exile, who, on a single car, hath vanquished celestials and men and serpents? Why, O king, doth not thy wrath blaze up at sight of that Arjuna in exile who, honoured with offerings of cars and vehicles of various forms and horses and elephants, forcibly took from the kings of the earth their treasures, who is the chastiser of all foes, and who at one impetus can throw full five hundred arrows? Why, O king, doth not thy wrath blaze up at sight of Nakula, in exile, who so fair and able-bodied and young, is the foremost of all swordsmen? Why, O king, dost thou pardon the foe, O Yudhishthira, at sight of Madri's son, the handsome and brave Sahadeva in exile? Why doth not thy anger blaze up, O king, it sight of both Nakula and Sahadeva overwhelmed with grief, though so undeserving of distress? Why also, O king, dost thou pardon the foe at sight of myself in exile who, born in the race of Drupada and, therefore, the sister of Dhrishtadyumna, am the daughter-in-law of the illustrious Pandu and the devoted wife of heroes? Truly, O thou best of the Bharatas, thou hast no anger, else why is it that thy mind is not moved at sight of thy brothers and myself (in such distress)? It is said that there is no Kshatriya in the world who is bereft of anger. I now behold in thee, however, a refutation of the proverb! That Kshatriya, O son of Pritha, who discovereth not his energy when the opportunity cometh, is ever disregarded by all creatures! Therefore, O king, thou shouldst not extend thy forgiveness to the foe. Indeed, with thy energy, without doubt, thou mayst slay them all! So also, O king, that Kshatriya who is not appeased when the time for forgiveness cometh, becometh unpopular with every creature and meeteth with destruction both in this and the other world!'" SECTION XXVIII "Draupadi continued, 'On this subject, the ancient story of the conversation between Prahlada and Vali, the son of Virochana, is quoted as an example. One day Vali asked his grand-father Prahlada, the chief of the Asuras and the Danavas, possessed of great wisdom and well-versed in the mysteries of the science of duty, saying, "O sire, is forgiveness meritorious or might and energy such? I am puzzled as regards this; O sire, enlighten me who ask thee this! O thou conversant with all duties, tell me truly which of these is meritorious? I will strictly obey whatever thy command may be!" Thus asked (by Vali), his wise grandfather, conversant with every conclusion, replied upon the whole subject unto his grand-son who had sought at his hands the resolution of his doubts. And Prahlada said, "Know, O child, these two truths with certainty, viz., that might is not always meritorious and forgiveness also is not always meritorious! He that forgiveth always suffereth many evils. Servants and strangers and enemies always disregard him. No creature ever bendeth down unto him. Therefore it is, O child, that the learned applaud not a constant habit of forgiveness! The servants of an ever-forgiving person always disregard him, and contract numerous faults. These mean-minded men also seek to deprive him of his wealth. Vile-souled servants also appropriate to themselves his vehicles and clothes and ornaments and apparel and beds and seats and food and drink and other articles of use. They do not also at the command of their master, give unto others the things they are directed to give. Nor do they even worship their master with that respect which is their master's due. Disregard in this world is worse than death. O child, sons and servants and attendants and even strangers speak harsh words unto the man who always forgiveth. Persons, disregarding the man of an ever-forgiving temper, even desire his wife, and his wife also, becometh ready to act as she willeth. And servants also that are ever fond of pleasure, if they do not receive even slight punishments from their master, contract all sorts of vices, and the wicked ever injure such a master. These and many other demerits attach to those that are ever-forgiving! "'"Listen now, O son of Virochana, to the demerits of those that are never forgiving! The man of wrath who, surrounded by darkness, always inflicteth, by help of his own energy, various kinds of punishment on persons whether they deserve them or not, is necessarily separated from his friends in consequence of that energy of his. Such a man is hated by both relatives and strangers. Such a man, because he insulteth others, suffereth loss of wealth and reapeth disregard and sorrow and hatred and confusion and enemies. The man of wrath, in consequence of his ire, inflicteth punishments on men and obtaineth (in return) harsh words. He is divested of his prosperity soon and even of life, not to say, of friends and relatives. He that putteth forth his might both upon his benefactor and his foe, is an object of alarm to the world, like a snake that hath taken shelter in a house, to the inmates thereof. What prosperity can he have who is an object of alarm to the world? People always do him an injury when they find a hole. Therefore, should men never exhibit might in excess nor forgiveness on all occasions. One should put forth his might and show his forgiveness on proper occasions. He that becometh forgiving at the proper time and harsh and mighty also at the proper time, obtaineth happiness both in this world and the other. "'"I shall now indicate the occasions in detail of forgiveness, as laid down by the learned, and which should ever be observed by all. Hearken unto me as I speak! He that hath done thee a service, even if he is guilty of a grave wrong unto thee, recollecting his former service, shouldst thou forgive that offender. Those also that have become offenders from ignorance and folly should be forgiven for learning and wisdom are not always easily attainable by man. They that having offended thee knowingly, plead ignorance should be punished, even if their offences be trivial. Such crooked men should never be pardoned. The first offence of every creature should be forgiven. The second offence, however, should be punished, even if it be trivial. If, however, a person committeth an offence unwillingly, it hath been said that examining his plea well by a judicious enquiry, he should be pardoned. Humility may vanquish might, humility may vanquish weakness. There is nothing that humility may not accomplish. Therefore, humility is truly fiercer (than it seemeth)! One should act with reference to place and time, taking note of his own might or weakness. Nothing can succeed that hath been undertaken without reference to place and time. Therefore, do thou ever wait for place and time! Sometimes offenders should be forgiven from fear of the people. These have been declared to be times of forgiveness. And it hath been said that on occasions besides these, might should be put forth against transgressors."' "Draupadi continued, 'I, therefore, regard, O king, that the time hath come for thee to put forth thy might! Unto those Kurus the covetous sons of Dhritarashtra who injure us always, the present is not the time for forgiveness! It behoveth thee to put forth thy might. The humble and forgiving person is disregarded; while those that are fierce persecute others. He, indeed, is a king who hath recourse to both, each according to its time!'" SECTION XXIX "Yudhishthira said, 'Anger is the slayer of men and is again their prosperor. Know this, O thou possessed of great wisdom, that anger is the root of all prosperity and all adversity. O thou beautiful one, he that suppresseth his anger earneth prosperity. That man, again, who always giveth way to anger, reapeth adversity from his fierce anger. It is seen in this world that anger is the cause of destruction of every creature. How then can one like me indulge his anger which is so destructive of the world? The angry man commiteth sin. The angry man killeth even his preceptors. The angry man insulteth even his superiors in harsh words. The man that is angry faileth to distinguish between what should be said and what should not. There is no act that an angry man may not do, no word that an angry man may not utter. From anger a man may slay one that deserveth not to be slain, and may worship one that deserveth to be slain. The angry man may even send his own soul to the regions of Yama. Beholding all these faults, the wise control their anger, desirous of obtaining high prosperity both in this and the other world. It is for this that they of tranquil souls have banished wrath. How can one like us indulge in it then? O daughter of Drupada, reflecting upon all this, my anger is not excited. One that acteth not against a man whose wrath hath been up, rescueth himself as also others from great fear. In fact, he may be regarded to be the physician of the two (_viz_., himself and angry man). If a weak man, persecuted by others, foolishly becometh angry towards men that are mightier than he, he then becometh himself the cause of his own destruction. And in respect of one who thus deliberately throweth away his life, there are no regions hereafter to gain. Therefore, O daughter of Drupada, it hath been said that a weak man should always suppress his wrath. And the wise man also who though persecuted, suffereth not his wrath to be roused, joyeth in the other world--having passed his persecutor over in indifference. It is for this reason hath it been said that a wise man, whether strong or weak, should ever forgive his persecutor even when the latter is in the straits. It is for this, O Krishna, that the virtuous applaud them that have conquered their wrath. Indeed, it is the opinion of the virtuous that the honest and forgiving man is ever victorious. Truth is more beneficial than untruth; and gentleness than cruel behaviour. How can one like me, therefore, even for the purpose of slaying Duryodhana, exhibit anger which hath so many faults and which the virtuous banish from their souls? They that are regarded by the learned of foresight, as possessed of (true) force of character, are certainly those who are wrathful in outward show only. Men of learning and of true insight call him to be possessed of force of character who by his wisdom can suppress his risen wrath. O thou of fair hips, the angry man seeth not things in their true light. The man that is angry seeth not his way, nor respecteth persons. The angry man killeth even those that deserve not to be killed. The man of wrath slayeth even his preceptors. Therefore, the man possessing force of character should ever banish wrath to a distance. The man that is overwhelmed with wrath acquireth not with ease generosity, dignity, courage, skill, and other attributes belonging to real force of character. A man by forsaking anger can exhibit proper energy, whereas, O wise one, it is highly difficult for the angry man to exhibit his energy at the proper time! The ignorant always regard anger as equivalent to energy. Wrath, however hath been given to man for the destruction of the world. The man, therefore, who wisheth to behave properly, must ever forsake anger. Even one who hath abandoned the excellent virtues of his own order, it is certain, indulgeth in wrath (if behaveth properly). If fools, of mind without light, transgress in every respect, how, O faultless one, can one like me transgress (like them)? If amongst men there were not persons equal unto the earth in forgiveness, there would be no peace among men but continued strife caused by wrath. If the injured return their injuries, if one chastised by his superior were to chastise his superior in return, the consequence would be the destruction of every creature, and sin also would prevail in the world. If the man who hath ill speeches from another, returneth those speeches afterwards; if the injured man returneth his injuries; if the chastised person chastiseth in return; if fathers slay sons, and sons fathers and if husbands slay wives, and wives husbands; then, O Krishna, how can birth take place in a world where anger prevaileth so! For, O thou of handsome face, know that the birth of creatures is due to peace! If the kings also, O Draupadi, giveth way to wrath, his subjects soon meet with destruction. Wrath, therefore, hath for its consequence the destruction and the distress of the people. And because it is seen that there are in the world men who are forgiving like the Earth, it is therefore that creatures derive their life and prosperity. O beautiful one, one should forgive under every injury. It hath been said that the continuation of species is due to man being forgiving. He, indeed, is a wise and excellent person who hath conquered his wrath and who showeth forgiveness even when insulted, oppressed, and angered by a strong person. The man of power who controleth his wrath, hath (for his enjoyment) numerous everlasting regions; while he that is angry, is called foolish, and meeteth with destruction both in this and the other world. O Krishna, the illustrious and forgiving Kasyapa hath, in this respect, sung the following verses in honour of men that are ever forgiving, "Forgiveness is virtue, forgiveness is sacrifice, forgiveness is the Vedas, forgiveness is the _Shruti_. He that knoweth this is capable of forgiving everything. Forgiveness is _Brahma_; forgiveness is truth; forgiveness is stored ascetic merit; forgiveness protecteth the ascetic merit of the future; forgiveness is asceticism; forgiveness is holiness; and by forgiveness is it that the universe is held together. Persons that are forgiving attain to the regions obtainable by those that have performed meritorious sacrifices, or those that are well-conversant with the Vedas, or those that have high ascetic merit. Those that perform Vedic sacrifices as also those that perform the meritorious rites of religion obtain other regions. Men of forgiveness, however, obtain those much-adored regions that are in the world of Brahma. Forgiveness is the might of the mighty; forgiveness is sacrifice; forgiveness is quiet of mind. How, O Krishna, can one like us abandon forgiveness, which is such, and in which are established _Brahma_, and truth, and wisdom and the worlds? The man of wisdom should ever forgive, for when he is capable of forgiving everything, he attaineth to _Brahma_. The world belongeth to those that are forgiving; the other world is also theirs. The forgiving acquire honours here, and a state of blessedness hereafter. Those men that ever conquer their wrath by forgiveness, obtain the higher regions. Therefore hath it been said that forgiveness is the highest virtue." Those are the verses sung by Kasyapa in respect of those that are everforgiving. Having listened, O Draupadi, to these verses in respect of forgiveness, content thyself! Give not way to thy wrath! Our grandsire, the son of Santanu, will worship peace; Krishna, the son of Devaki, will worship peace; the preceptor (Drona) and Vidura called _Kshatri_ will both speak of peace; Kripa and Sanjaya also will preach peace. And Somadatta and Yuyutshu and Drona's son and our grandsire Vyasa, every one of them speaketh always of peace. Ever urged by these towards peace, the king (Dhritarashtra) will, I think, return us our kingdom. If however, he yieldeth to temptation, he will meet with destruction. O lady, a crisis hath come in the history of Bharatas for plunging them into calamity! This hath been my certain conclusion from some time before! Suyodhana deserveth not the kingdom. Therefore hath he been unable to acquire forgiveness. I, however, deserve the sovereignty and therefore is it that forgiveness hath taken possession of me. Forgiveness and gentleness are the qualities of the self-possessed. They represent eternal virtue. I shall, therefore, truly adopt those qualities.'" SECTION XXX "Draupadi said, 'I bow down unto _Dhatri_ and _Vidhatri_ who have thus clouded thy sense! Regarding the burden (thou art to bear) thou thinkest differently from the ways of thy fathers and grand-fathers! Influenced by acts men are placed in different situations of life. Acts, therefore, produce consequences that are inevitable; emancipation is desired from mere folly. It seemeth that man can never attain prosperity in this world by virtue, gentleness, forgiveness, straight-forwardness and fear of censure! If this were not so, O Bharata, this insufferable calamity would never have overtaken thee who art so undeserving of it, and these thy brothers of great energy! Neither in those days of prosperity nor in these days of thy adversity, thou, O Bharata, hath ever known anything so dear to thee as virtue, which thou hast even regarded as dearer to thee than life! That thy kingdom is for virtue alone, that thy life also is for virtue alone, is known to Brahmanas and thy superiors and even the celestials! I think thou canst abandon Bhimasena and Arjuna and these twin sons of Madri along with myself but thou canst not abandon virtue! I have heard that the king protecteth virtue; and virtue, protected by him, protecteth him (in return)! I see, however, that virtue protecteth thee not! Like the shadow pursuing a man, thy heart, O tiger among men, with singleness of purpose, ever seeketh virtue. Thou hast never disregarded thy equals, and inferiors and superiors. Obtaining even the entire world, thy pride never increased! O son of Pritha, thou ever worshippest Brahmanas, and gods, and the _Pitris_, with _Swadhas_, and other forms of worship! O son of Pritha, thou hast ever gratified the Brahmanas by fulfilling every wish of theirs! _Yatis_ and _Sannyasins_ and mendicants of domestic lives have always been fed in thy house from off plates of gold where I have distributed (food) amongst them. Unto the _Vanaprasthas_ thou always givest gold and food. There is nothing in thy house thou mayest not give unto the Brahmanas! In the _Viswadeva_ sacrifice, that is, for thy peace, performed in thy house, the things consecrated are first offered unto guests and all creatures while thou livest thyself with what remaineth (after distribution)! _Ishtis Pashubandhas_, sacrifices for obtaining fruition of desire, the religious rites of (ordinary) domesticity, _Paka_ sacrifices, and sacrifices of other kinds, are ever performed in thy house. Even in this great forest, so solitary and haunted by robbers, living in exile, divested of thy kingdom, thy virtue hath sustained no diminution! The _Aswamedha_, the _Rajasuya_, the _Pundarika_, and _Gosava_, these grand sacrifices requiring large gifts have all been performed by thee! O monarch, impelled by a perverse sense during that dire hour of a losing match at dice, thou didst yet stake and lose thy kingdom, thy wealth, thy weapons, thy brothers, and myself! Simple, gentle, liberal, modest, truthful, how, O king could thy mind be attracted to the vice of gambling? I am almost deprived of my sense, O king, and my heart is overwhelmed with grief, beholding this thy distress, and this thy calamity! An old history is cited as an illustration for the truth that men are subjects to the will of God and never to their own wishes! The Supreme Lord and Ordainer of all ordaineth everything in respect of the weal and woe, the happiness and misery, of all creatures, even prior to their births guided by the acts of each, which are even like a seed (destined to sprout forth into the tree of life). O hero amongst men, as a wooden doll is made to move its limbs by the wirepuller, so are creatures made to work by the Lord of all. O Bharata, like space that covereth every object, God, pervading every creature, ordaineth its weal or woe. Like a bird tied with a string, every creature is dependent on God. Every one is subject to God and none else. No one can be his own ordainer. Like a pearl on its string, or a bull held fast by the cord passing through its nose, or a tree fallen from the bank into the middle of the stream, every creature followeth the command of the Creator, because imbued with His Spirit and because established in Him. And man himself, dependent on the Universal Soul, cannot pass a moment independently. Enveloped in darkness, creatures are not masters of their own weal or woe. They go to heaven or hell urged by God Himself. Like light straws dependent on strong winds, all creatures, O Bharatas, are dependent on God! And God himself, pervading all creatures and engaged in acts right and wrong, moveth in the universe, though none can say _This is God!_ This body with its physical attributes is only the means by which God--the Supreme Lord of all maketh (every creature) to reap fruits that are good or bad. Behold the power of illusion that hath been spread by God, who confounding with his illusion, maketh creatures slay their fellows! Truth-knowing _Munis_ behold those differently. They appear to them in a different light, even like the rays of the Sun (which to ordinary eyes are only a pencil of light, while to eyes more penetrating seem fraught with the germs of food and drink). Ordinary men behold the things of the earth otherwise. It is God who maketh them all, adopting different processes in their creation and destruction. And, O Yudhishthira, the Self-create Grandsire, Almighty God, spreading illusion, slayeth his creatures by the instrumentality of his creatures, as one may break a piece of inert and senseless wood with wood, or stone with stone, or iron with iron. And the Supreme Lord, according to his pleasure, sporteth with His creatures, creating and destroying them, like a child with his toy (of soft earth). O king, it doth seem to me that God behaveth towards his creatures like a father or mother unto them. Like a vicious person, He seemeth to bear himself towards them in anger! Beholding superior and well-behaved and modest persons persecuted, while the sinful are happy, I am sorely troubled. Beholding this thy distress and the prosperity of Suyodhana, I do not speak highly of the Great Ordainer who suffereth such inequality! O sir, what fruits doth the Great Ordainer reap by granting prosperity to Dhritarashtra's son who transgresseth the ordinances, who is crooked and covetous, and who injureth virtue and religion! If the act done pursueth the doer and none else, then certainly it is God himself who is stained with the sin of every act. If however, the sin of an act done doth not attach to the doer, then (individual) might (and not God) is the true cause of acts, and I grieve for those that have no might!'" SECTION XXXI "Yudhishthira said, 'Thy speech, O Yajnaseni, is delightful, smooth and full of excellent phrases. We have listened to it (carefully). Thou speakest, however, the language of atheism. O princess, I never act, solicitous of the fruits of my actions. I give away, because it is my duty to give; I sacrifice because it is my duty to sacrifice! O Krishna, I accomplish to the best of my power whatever a person living in domesticity should do, regardless of the fact whether those acts have fruits or not. O thou of fair hips, I act virtuously, not from the desire of reaping the fruits of virtue, but of not transgressing the ordinances of the Veda, and beholding also the conduct of the good and wise! My heart, O Krishna, is naturally attracted towards virtue. The man who wisheth to reap the fruits of virtue is a trader in virtue. His nature is mean and he should never be counted amongst the virtuous. Nor doth he ever obtain the fruits of his virtues! Nor doth he of sinful heart, who having accomplished a virtuous act doubteth in his mind, obtain the fruits of his act, in consequence of that scepticism of his! I speak unto thee, under the authority of the Vedas, which constitute the highest proof in such matters, that never shouldst thou doubt virtue! The man that doubteth virtue is destined to take his birth in the brute species. The man of weak understanding who doubteth religion, virtue or the words of the Rishis, is precluded from regions of immortality and bliss, like Sudras from the Vedas! O intelligent one, if a child born of a good race studieth the Vedas and beareth himself virtuously, royal sages of virtuous behaviour regard him as an aged sage (not withstanding his years)! The sinful wretch, however, who doubteth religion and transgresseth the scriptures, is regarded as lower even than Sudras and robbers! Thou hast seen with thy own eyes the great ascetic Markandeya of immeasurable soul come to us! It is by virtue alone that he hath acquired immortality in the flesh. Vyasa, and Vasistha and Maitreya, and Narada and Lomasa, and Suka, and other Rishis have all, by virtue alone, become of pure soul! Thou beholdest them with thy own eyes as furnished with prowess of celestial asceticism, competent to curse or bless (with effect), and superior to the very gods! O sinless one, these all, equal to the celestials themselves, behold with their eyes what is written in the Vedas, and describe virtue as the foremost duty! It behoveth thee not, therefore, O amiable Queen, to either doubt or censure God or act, with a foolish heart. The fool that doubteth religion and disregardeth virtue, proud of the proof derived from his own reasoning, regardeth not other proofs and holdeth the Rishis, who are capable of knowing the future as present as mad men. The fool regardeth only the external world capable of gratifying his senses, and is blind to everything else. He that doubteth religion hath no expiation for his offence. That miserable wretch is full of anxiety and acquireth not regions of bliss hereafter. A rejector of proofs, a slanderer of the interpretation of the Vedic scriptures, a transgressor urged by lust and covetousness, that fool goeth to hell. O amiable one, he on the other hand, who ever cherisheth religion with faith, obtaineth eternal bliss in the other world. The fool who cherisheth not religion, transgressing the proofs offered by the Rishis, never obtaineth prosperity in any life, for such transgression of the scriptures. It is certain, O handsome one, that with respect to him who regardeth not the words of the Rishis or the conduct of the virtuous as proof, neither this nor the other world existeth. Doubt not, O Krishna, the ancient religion that is practised by the good and framed by Rishis of universal knowledge and capable of seeing all things! O daughter of Drupada, religion is the only raft for those desirous of going to heaven, like a ship to merchants desirous of crossing the ocean. O thou faultless one, if the virtues that are practised by the virtuous had no fruits, this universe then would be enveloped in infamous darkness. No one then would pursue salvation, no one would seek to acquire knowledge nor even wealth, but men would live like beasts. If asceticism, the austerities of celibate life, sacrifices, study of the Vedas, charity, honesty,--these all were fruitless, men would not have practised virtue generation after generation. If acts were all fruitless, a dire confusion would ensue. For what then do Rishis and gods and Gandharvas and Rakshasas who are all independent of human conditions, cherish virtue with such affection? Knowing it for certain that God is the giver of fruits in respect of virtue, they practise virtue in this world. This, O Krishna, is the eternal (source of) prosperity. When the fruits of both knowledge and asceticism are seen, virtue and vice cannot be fruitless. Call to thy mind, O Krishna, the circumstances of thy own birth as thou that heard of them, and recall also the manner in which Dhrishtadyumna of great prowess was born! These, O thou of sweet smiles, are the best proofs (of the fruits of virtue)! They that have their minds under control, reap the fruits of their acts and are content with little. Ignorant fools are not content with even that much they get (here), because they have no happiness born of virtue to acquire to in the world hereafter. The fruitlessness of virtuous acts ordained in the Vedas, as also of all transgressions, the origin and destruction of acts are, O beautiful one, mysterious even to the gods. These are not known to any body and everybody. Ordinary men are ignorant in respect of these. The gods keep up the mystery, for the illusion covering the conduct of the gods is unintelligible. Those regenerate ones that have destroyed all aspirations, that have built all their hopes on vows and asceticism, that have burnt all their sins and have acquired minds where quest and peace and holiness dwell, understand all these. Therefore, though you mayst not see the fruits of virtue, thou shouldst not yet doubt religion or gods. Thou must perform sacrifices with a will, and practise charity without insolence. Acts in this world have their fruits, and virtue also is eternal. Brahma himself told this unto his (spiritual) sons, as testified to by Kasyapa. Let thy doubt, therefore, O Krishna, be dispelled like mist. Reflecting upon all this, let thy scepticism give way to faith. Slander not God, who is the lord of all creatures. Learn how to know him. Bow down unto him. Let not thy mind be such. And, O Krishna, never disregard that Supreme Being through whose grace mortal man, by piety, acquireth immortality!'" SECTION XXXII "Draupadi said, 'I do not ever disregard or slander religion, O son of Pritha! Why should I disregard God, the lord of all creatures? Afflicted with woe, know me, O Bharata, to be only raving. I will once more indulge in lamentations; listen to me with attention. O persecutor of all enemies, every conscious creature should certainly act in this world. It is only the immobile, and not other creatures, that may live without acting. The calf, immediately after its birth, sucketh the mothers's teat. Persons feel pain in consequence of incantations performed with their statues. It seemeth, therefore, O Yudhishthira, that creatures derive the character of their lives from their acts of former lives. Amongst mobile creatures man differeth in this respect that he aspireth, O bull of the Bharata race, to affect his course of life in this and the other world by means of his acts. Impelled by the inspiration of a former life, all creatures visibly (reap) in this world the fruits of their acts. Indeed, all creatures live according to the inspiration of a former life, even the Creator and the Ordainer of the universe, like a crane that liveth on the water (untaught by any one.) If a creature acteth not, its course of life is impossible. In the case of a creature, therefore, there must be action and not inaction. Thou also shouldest act, and not incur censure by abandoning action. Cover thyself up, as with an armour, with action. There may or may not be even one in a thousand who truly knoweth the utility of acts or work. One must act for protecting as also increasing his wealth; for if without seeking to earn, one continueth to only spend, his wealth, even if it were a hoard huge as Himavat, would soon be exhausted. All the creatures in the world would have been exterminated, if there were no action. If also acts bore no fruits, creatures would never have multiplied. It is even seen that creatures sometimes perform acts that have no fruits, for without acts the course of life itself would be impossible. Those persons in the world who believe in destiny, and those again who believe in chance, are both the worst among men. Those only that believe in the efficacy of acts are laudable. He that lieth at ease, without activity, believing in destiny alone, is soon destroyed like an unburnt earthen pot in water. So also he that believeth in chance, i.e. sitteth inactive though capable of activity liveth not long, for his life is one of weakness and helplessness. If any person accidentally acquireth any wealth, it is said he deriveth it from chance, for no one's effort hath brought about the result. And, O son of Pritha, whatever of good fortune a person obtaineth in consequence of religious rites, that is called providential. The fruit, however that a person obtaineth by acting himself, and which is the direct result of those acts of his, is regarded as proof of personal ability. And, O best of men, know that the wealth one obtaineth spontaneously and without cause is said to be a spontaneous acquisition. Whatever is thus obtained by chance, by providential dispensation, spontaneously, of as the result of one's acts is, however, the consequence of the acts of a former life. And God, the Ordainer of the universe, judging according to the acts of former lives, distributeth among men their portions in this world. Whatever acts, good or bad, a person performeth, know that they are the result of God's arrangements agreeably to the acts of a former life. This body is only the instruments in the hands of God, for doing the acts that are done. Itself, inert, it doth as God urgeth it to do. O son of Kunti, it is the Supreme Lord of all who maketh all creatures do what they do. The creatures themselves are inert. O hero, man, having first settled some purpose in his mind, accomplisheth it, himself working with the aid of his intelligence. We, therefore, say that man is himself the cause (of what he doeth). O bull among men, it is impossible to number the acts of men, for mansions and towns are the result of man's acts. Intelligent men know, by help of their intellect, that oil may be had from sesame, curds from milk, and that food may be cooked by means of igniting fuel. They know also the means for accomplishing all these. And knowing them, they afterwards set themselves, with proper appliances, to accomplish them. And creatures support their lives by the results achieved in these directions by their own acts. If a work is executed by a skilled workman, it is executed well. From differences (in characteristics), another work may be said to be that of an unskilful hand. If a person were not, in the matter of his acts, himself the cause thereof, then sacrifices would not bear any fruits in his case nor would any body be a disciple or a master. It is because a person is himself the cause of his work that he is applauded when he achieved success. So the doer is censured if he faileth. If a man were not himself the cause of his acts, how would all this be justified? Some say that everything is the result of providential dispensation; others again, that this is not so, but that everything which is supposed to be the result of destiny or chance is the result of the good or the bad acts of former lives. It is seen, possessions are obtained from chance, as also from destiny. Something being from destiny and something from chance, something is obtained by exertion. In the acquisition of his objects, there is no fourth cause in the case of man. Thus say those that are acquainted with truth and skilled in knowledge. If, however, God himself were not the giver of good and bad fruits, then amongst creatures there would not be any that was miserable. If the effect of former acts be a myth, then all purposes for which man would work should be successful. They, therefore, that regard the three alone (mentioned above) as the doors of all success and failure in the world, (without regarding the acts of former life), are dull and inert like the body itself. For all this, however, a person should act. This is the conclusion of Manu himself. The person that doth not act, certainly succumbeth, O Yudhishthira. The man of action in this world generally meeteth with success. The idle, however, never achieveth success. If success becometh impossible, then should one seek to remove the difficulties that bar his way to success. And, O king, if a person worketh (hard), his debt (to the gods) is cancelled (whether he achieveth success or not). The person that is idle and lieth at his length, is overcome by adversity; while he that is active and skillful is sure to reap success and enjoy prosperity. Intelligent persons engaged in acts with confidence in themselves regard all who are diffident as doubting and unsuccessful. The confident and faithful, however, are regarded by them as successful. And this moment misery hath overtaken us. If, however, thou betakest to action, that misery will certainly be removed. If thou meetest failure, then that will furnish a proof unto thee and Vrikodara and Vivatsu and the twins (that ye are unable to snatch the kingdom from the foe). The acts of others, it is seen, are crowned with success. It is probable that ours also will be successful. How can one know beforehand what the consequence will be? Having exerted thyself thou wilt know what the fruit of thy exertion will be. The tiller tilleth with the plough the soil and soweth the seeds thereon. He then sitteth silent, for the clouds (after that) are the cause that would help the seeds to grow into plants. If however, the clouds favour him not, the tiller is absolved from all blame. He sayeth unto himself, "What others do, I have done. If, notwithstanding this, I meet with failure, no blame can attach to me." Thinking so, he containeth himself and never indulgeth in self-reproach. O Bharata, no one should despair saying, "Oh, I am acting, yet success is not mine!" For there are two other causes, besides exertion, towards success. Whether there be success or failure, there should be no despair, for success in acts dependeth upon the union of many circumstances. If one important element is wanting, success doth not become commensurate, or doth not come at all. If however, no exertion is made, there can be no success. Nor is there anything to applaud in the absence of all exertion. The intelligent, aided by their intelligence, and according to their full might bring place, time, means, auspicious rites, for the acquisition of prosperity. With carefulness and vigilance should one set himself to work, his chief guide being his prowess. In the union of qualities necessary for success in work, prowess seemeth to be the chief. When the man of intelligence seeth his enemy superior to him in many qualities, he should seek the accomplishment of his purposes by means of the arts of conciliation and proper appliances. He should also wish evil unto his foe and his banishment. Without speaking of mortal man, if his foe were even the ocean or the hills, he should be guided by such motives. A person by his activity in searching for the holes of his enemies, dischargeth his debt to himself as also to his friends. No man should ever disparage himself for the man that disparageth himself never earneth high prosperity. O Bharata, success in this world is attainable on such conditions! In fact, success in the world is said to depend on acting according to time and circumstances. My father formerly kept a learned Brahmana with him. O bull of the Bharata race, he said all this unto my father. Indeed, these instructions as to duty, uttered by Vrihaspati himself, were first taught to my brothers. It was from them that I heard these afterwards while in my father's house. And, O Yudhishthira, while at intervals of business, I went out (of the inner apartments) and sat on the lap of my father, that learned Brahmana used to recite unto me these truths, sweetly consoling me therewith!'" SECTION XXXIII Vaisampayana said, "Hearing these words of Yajnaseni, Bhimasena, sighing in wrath, approached the king and addressed him, saying, 'Walk, O monarch, in the customary path trodden by good men (before thee) in respect of kingdoms. What do we gain by living in the asylum of ascetics, thus deprived of virtue, pleasure, and profit? It is not by virtue, nor by honesty, nor by might, but by unfair dice, that our kingdom hath been snatched by Duryodhana. Like a weak offal-eating jackal snatching the prey from mighty lions, he hath snatched away our kingdom. Why, O monarch, in obedience to the trite merit of sticking to a promise, dost thou suffer such distress, abandoning that wealth which is the source of both virtue and enjoyments? It was for thy carelessness, O king, that our kingdom protected by the wielder of the _Gandiva_ and therefore, incapable of being wrested by Indra himself, was snatched from us in our very sight. It was for thee, O monarch, that, ourselves living, our prosperity was snatched away from us like a fruit from one unable to use his arms, or like kine from one incapable of using his legs. Thou art faithful in the acquisition of virtue. It was to please thee, O Bharata, that we have suffered ourselves to be overwhelmed with such dire calamity. O bull of the Bharata race, it was because we were subject to thy control that we are thus tearing the hearts of our friends and gratifying our foes. That we did not, in obedience to thee, even then slay the sons of Dhritarashtra, is an act of folly on our part that grieveth me sorely. This thy abode, O king, in the woods, like that of any wild animal, is what a man of weakness alone would submit to. Surely, no man of might would ever lead such a life. This thy course of life is approved neither by Krishna, nor Vibhatsu, nor by Abhimanyu, nor by the Srinjayas, nor by myself, nor by the sons of Madri. Afflicted with the vows, thy cry is _Religion! Religion_! Hast thou from despair been deprived of thy manliness? Cowards alone, unable to win back their prosperity, cherish despair, which is fruitless and destructive of one's purposes. Thou hast ability and eyes. Thou seest that manliness dwelleth in us. It is because thou hast adopted a life of peace that thou feelest not this distress. These Dhritarashtras regard us who are forgiving, as really incompetent. This, O king, grieveth me more than death in battle. If we all die in fair fight without turning our backs on the foe, even that would be better than this exile, for then we should obtain regions of bliss in the other world. Or, if, O bull of the Bharata race, having slain them all, we acquire the entire earth, that would be prosperity worth the trial. We who ever adhere to the customs of our order, who ever desire grand achievements, who wish to avenge our wrongs, have this for our bounden duty. Our kingdom wrested from us, if we engage in battle, our deeds when known to the world will procure for us fame and not slander. And that virtue, O king, which tortureth one's own self and friends, is really no virtue. It is rather vice, producing calamities. Virtue is sometimes also the weakness of men. And though such a man might ever be engaged in the practice of virtue, yet both virtue and profit forsake him, like pleasure and pain forsaking a person that is dead. He that practiseth virtue for virtue's sake always suffereth. He can scarcely be called a wise man, for he knoweth not the purposes of virtue like a blind man incapable of perceiving the solar light. He that regardeth his wealth to exist for himself alone, scarcely understandeth the purposes of wealth. He is really like a servant that tendeth kine in a forest. He again that pursueth wealth too much without pursuing virtue and enjoyments, deserveth to be censured and slain by all men. He also that ever pursueth enjoyments without pursuing virtue and wealth, loseth his friends and virtue and wealth also. Destitute of virtue and wealth such a man, indulging in pleasure at will, at the expiration of his period of indulgence, meeteth with certain death, like a fish when the water in which it liveth hath been dried up. It is for these reasons that they that are wise are ever careful of both virtue and wealth, for a union of virtue and wealth is the essential requisite of pleasure, as fuel is the essential requisite of fire. Pleasure hath always virtue for its root, and virtue also is united with pleasure. Know, O monarch, that both are dependent on each other like the ocean and the clouds, the ocean causing the clouds and the clouds filling the ocean. The joy that one feeleth in consequence of contact with objects of touch or of possession of wealth, is what is called pleasure. It existeth in the mind, having no corporeal existence that one can see. He that wisheth (to obtain) wealth, seeketh for a large share of virtue to crown his wish with success. He that wisheth for pleasure, seeketh wealth, (so that his wish may be realised). Pleasure however, yieldeth nothing in its turn. One pleasure cannot lead to another, being its own fruit, as ashes may be had from wood, but nothing from those ashes in their turn. And, O king, as a fowler killeth the birds we see, so doth sin slay the creatures of the world. He, therefore, who misled by pleasure or covetousness, beholdeth not the nature of virtue, deserveth to be slain by all, and becometh wretched both here and hereafter. It is evident, O king, that thou knowest that pleasure may be derived from the possession of various objects of enjoyment. Thou also well knowest their ordinary states, as well as the great changes they undergo. At their loss or disappearance occasioned by decrepitude or death, ariseth what is called distress. That distress, O king, hath now overtaken us. The joy that ariseth from the five senses, the intellect and the heart, being directed to the objects proper to each, is called pleasure. That pleasure, O king, is, as I think, one of the best fruits of our actions. "'Thus, O monarch, one should regard virtue, wealth and pleasure one after another. One should not devote one self to virtue alone, nor regard wealth as the highest object of one's wishes, nor pleasure, but should ever pursue all three. The scriptures ordain that one should seek virtue in the morning, wealth at noon, and pleasure in the evening. The scriptures also ordain that one should seek pleasure in the first portion of life, wealth in the second, and virtue in the last. And, O thou foremost of speakers, they that are wise and fully conversant with proper division of time, pursue all three, virtue, wealth, and pleasure, dividing their time duly. O son of the Kuru race, whether independence of these (three), or their possession is the better for those that desire happiness, should be settled by thee after careful thought. And thou shouldst then, O king, unhesitatingly act either for acquiring them, or abandoning them all. For he who liveth wavering between the two doubtingly, leadeth a wretched life. It is well known that thy behaviour is ever regulated by virtue. Knowing this thy friends counsel thee to act. Gift, sacrifice, respect for the wise, study of the Vedas, and honesty, these, O king, constitute the highest virtue and are efficacious both here and hereafter. These virtues, however, cannot be attained by one that hath no wealth, even if, O tiger among men, he may have infinite other accomplishments. The whole universe, O king, dependeth upon virtue. There is nothing higher than virtue. And virtue, O king, is attainable by one that hath plenty of wealth. Wealth cannot be earned by leading a mendicant life, nor by a life of feebleness. Wealth, however, can be earned by intelligence directed by virtue. In thy case, O king, begging, which is successful with Brahmanas, hath been forbidden. Therefore, O bull amongst men, strive for the acquisition of wealth by exerting thy might and energy. Neither mendicancy, nor the life of a Sudra is what is proper for thee. Might and energy constitute the virtue of the Kshatriya in especial. Adopt thou, therefore, the virtue of thy order and slay the enemies. Destroy the might of Dhritarashtra's sons, O son of Pritha, with my and Arjuna's aid. They that are learned and wise say that sovereignty is virtue. Acquire sovereignty, therefore, for it behoveth thee not to live in a state of inferiority. Awake, O king, and understand the eternal virtues (of the order). By birth thou belongest to an order whose deeds are cruel and are a source of pain to man. Cherish thy subjects and reap the fruit thereof. That can never be a reproach. Even this, O king, is the virtue ordained by God himself for the order to which thou belongest! If thou fallest away therefrom, thou wilt make thyself ridiculous. Deviation from the virtues of one's own order is never applauded. Therefore, O thou of the Kuru race, making thy heart what it ought to be, agreeably to the order to which thou belongest, and casting away this course of feebleness, summon thy energy and bear thy weight like one that beareth it manfully. No king, O monarch, could ever acquire the sovereignty of the earth or prosperity or affluence by means of virtue alone. Like a fowler earning his food in the shape of swarms of little easily-tempted game, by offering them some attractive food, doth one that is intelligent acquire a kingdom, by offering bribes unto low and covetous enemies. Behold, O bull among kings, the Asuras, though elder brothers in possession of power and affluence, were all vanquished by the gods through stratagem. Thus, O king, everything belongeth to those that are mighty. And, O mighty-armed one, slay thy foes, having recourse to stratagem. There is none equal unto Arjuna in wielding the bow in battle. Nor is there anybody that may be equal unto me in wielding the mace. Strong men, O monarch, engage in battle depending on their might, and not on the force of numbers nor on information of the enemy's plans procured through spies. Therefore, O son of Pandu exert thy might. Might is the root of wealth. Whatever else is said to be its root is really not such. As the shade of the tree in winter goeth for nothing, so without might everything else becometh fruitless. Wealth should be spent by one who wisheth to increase his wealth, after the manner, O son of Kunti, of scattering seeds on the ground. Let there be no doubt then in thy mind. Where, however, wealth that is more or even equal is not to be gained, there should be no expenditure of wealth. For investment of wealth are like the ass, scratching, pleasurable at first but painful afterwards. Thus, O king of men, the person who throweth away like seeds a little of his virtue in order to gain a larger measure of virtue, is regarded as wise. Beyond doubt, it is as I say. They that are wise alienate the friends of the foe that owneth such, and having weakened him by causing those friends to abandon him thus, they then reduce him to subjection. Even they that are strong, engage in battle depending on their courage. One cannot by even continued efforts (uninspired by courage) or by the arts of conciliation, always conquer a kingdom. Sometimes, O king, men that are weak, uniting in large numbers, slay even a powerful foe, like bees killing the despoiler of the honey by force of numbers alone. (As regards thyself), O king, like the sun that sustaineth as well as slayeth creatures by his rays, adopt thou the ways of the sun. To protect one's kingdom and cherish the people duly, as done by our ancestors, O king, is, it hath been heard by us, a kind of asceticism mentioned even in the Vedas. By asceticism, O king, a Kshatriya cannot acquire such regions of blessedness as he can by fair fight whether ending in victory or defeat. Beholding, O king, this thy distress, the world hath come to the conclusion that light may forsake the Sun and grace the Moon. And, O king, good men separately as well as assembling together, converse with one another, applauding thee and blaming the other. There is this, moreover, O monarch, _viz_., that both the Kurus and the Brahmanas, assembling together, gladly speak of thy firm adherence to truth, in that thou hast never, from ignorance, from meanness, from covetousness, or from fear, uttered an untruth. Whatever sin, O monarch, a king committeth in acquiring dominion, he consumeth it all afterwards by means of sacrifices distinguished by large gifts. Like the Moon emerging from the clouds, the king is purified from all sins by bestowing villages on Brahmanas and kine by thousands. Almost all the citizens as well as the inhabitants of the country, young or old, O son of the Kuru race, praise thee, O Yudhishthira! This also, O Bharata, the people are saying amongst themselves, _viz_., that as milk in a bag of dog's hide, as the Vedas in a Sudra, as truth in a robber, as strength in a woman, so is sovereignty in Duryodhana. Even women and children are repeating this, as if it were a lesson they seek to commit to memory. O represser of foes, thou hast fallen into this state along with ourselves. Alas, we also are lost with thee for this calamity of thine. Therefore, ascending in thy car furnished with every implement, and making the superior Brahmanas utter benedictions on thee, march thou with speed, even this very day, upon Hastinapura, in order that thou mayst be able to give unto Brahmanas the spoils of victory. Surrounded by thy brothers, who are firm wielders of the bow, and by heroes skilled in weapons and like unto snakes of virulent poison, set thou out even like the slayer Vritra surrounded by the Marutas. And, O son of Kunti, as thou art powerful, grind thou with thy might thy weak enemies, like Indra grinding the Asuras; and snatch thou from Dhritarashtra's son the prosperity he enjoyeth. There is no mortal that can bear the touch of the shafts furnished with the feathers of the vulture and resembling snakes of virulent poison, that would be shot from the _Gandiva_. And, O Bharata, there is not a warrior, nor an elephant, nor a horse, that is able to bear the impetus of my mace when I am angry in battle. Why, O son of Kunti, should we not wrest our kingdom from the foe, fighting with the aid of the Srinjayas and Kaikeyas, and the bull of the Vrishni race? Why, O king, should we not succeed in wresting the (sovereignty of the) earth that is now in the hands of the foe, if, aided by a large force, we do but strive?'" SECTION XXXIV Vaisampayana said, "Thus addressed by Bhimasena, the high-souled king Ajatasatru firmly devoted to truth, mustering his patience, after a few moments said these words, 'No doubt, O Bharata, all this is true. I cannot reproach thee for thy torturing me thus by piercing me with thy arrowy words. From my folly alone hath this calamity come against you. I sought to cast the dice desiring to snatch from Dhritarashtra's son his kingdom with the sovereignty. It was therefore that, that cunning gambler--Suvala's son--played against me on behalf of Suyodhana. Sakuni, a native of the hilly country, is exceedingly artful. Casting the dice in the presence of the assembly, unacquainted as I am with artifices of any kind, he vanquished me artfully. It is, therefore, O Bhimasena, that we have been overwhelmed with this calamity. Beholding the dice favourable to the wishes of Sakuni in odds and evens, I could have controlled my mind. Anger, however, driveth off a person's patience. O child, the mind cannot be kept under control when it is influenced by hauteur, vanity, or pride. I do not reproach thee, O Bhimasena, for the words thou usest. I only regard that what hath befallen us was pre-ordained. When king Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, coveting our kingdom, plunged us into misery and even slavery, then, O Bhima, it was Draupadi that rescued us. When summoned again to the assembly for playing once more, thou knowest as well as Arjuna what Dhritarashtra's son told me, in the presence of all the Bharatas, regarding the stake for which we were to play. His words were, O prince Ajatsatru, (if vanquished), thou shalt have with all thy brothers, to dwell, to the knowledge of all men, for twelve years in the forest of thy choice, passing the thirteenth year in secrecy. If during the latter period, the spies of the Bharatas, hearing of thee, succeed in discovering thee, thou shalt have again to live in the forest for the same period, passing once more the last year in secrecy. Reflecting upon this, pledge thyself to it. As regards myself, I promise truly in this assembly of the Kurus, that if thou canst pass this time confounding my spies and undiscovered by them, then, O Bharata, this kingdom of the five rivers is once more thine. We also, O Bharata, if vanquished by thee, shall, all of us, abandoning all our wealth, pass the same period, according to the same rules. Thus addressed by the prince, I replied unto him in the midst of all the Kurus, "_So be it_!" The wretched game then commenced. We were vanquished and have been exiled. It is for this that we are wandering miserably over different woody regions abounding with discomfort. Suyodhana, however, still dissatisfied, gave himself up to anger, and urged the Kurus as also all those under his sway to express their joy at our calamity. Having entered into such an agreement in the presence of all good men, who dareth break it for the sake of a kingdom on earth? For a respectable person, I think, even death itself is lighter than the acquisition of sovereignty by an act of transgression. At the time of the play, thou hadst desired to burn my hands. Thou wert prevented by Arjuna, and accordingly didst only squeeze thy own hands. If thou couldst do what thou hadst desired, could this calamity befall us? Conscious of thy prowess, why didst thou not, O Bhima, say so before we entered into such an agreement? Overwhelmed with the consequence of our pledge, and the time itself having passed, what is the use of thy addressing me these harsh words? O Bhima, this is my great grief that we could not do anything even beholding Draupadi persecuted in that way. My heart burneth as if I have drunk some poisonous liquid. Having, however, given that pledge in the midst of the Kuru heroes, I am unable to violate it now. Wait, O Bhima, for the return of our better days, like the scatterer of seeds waiting for the harvest. When one that hath been first injured, succeedeth in revenging himself upon his foe at a time when the latter's enmity hath borne fruit and flowers, he is regarded to have accomplished a great thing by his prowess. Such a brave person earneth undying fame. Such a man obtaineth great prosperity. His enemies bow down unto him, and his friends gather round him, like the celestials clustering round Indra for protection. But know, O Bhima, my promise can never be untrue. I regard virtue as superior to life itself and a blessed state of celestial existence. Kingdom, sons, fame, wealth,--all these do not come up to even a sixteenth part of truth.'" SECTION XXXV "Bhima said, 'O king, unsubstantial as thou art like froth, unstable like a fruit (falling when ripe), dependent on time, and mortal, having entered into an agreement in respect of time, which is infinite and immeasurable, quick like a shaft or flowing like a stream, and carrying everything before it like death itself, how canst regard it as available by thee? How can he, O son of Kunti, wait whose life is shortened every moment, even like a quantity of collyrium that is lessened each time a grain is taken up by the needle? He only whose life is unlimited or who knoweth with certitude what the period of his life is, and who knoweth the future as if it were before his eyes, can indeed wait for the arrival of (an expected) time. If we wait, O king, for thirteen years, that period, shortening our lives, will bring us nearer to death. Death is sure to overtake every creature having a corporeal existence. Therefore, we should strive for the possession of our kingdom before we die. He that faileth to achieve fame, by failing to chastise his foes, is like an unclean thing. He is a useless burden on the earth like an incapacitated bull and perisheth ingloriously. The man who, destitute of strength, and courage, chastiseth not his foes, liveth in vain, I regard such a one as low-born. Thy hand can rain gold; thy fame spreadeth over the whole earth; slaying thy foes, therefore, in battle, enjoy thou the wealth acquired by the might of thy arms. O repressor of all foes, O king, if a man slaying his injurer, goeth the very day into hell, that hell becometh heaven to him. O king, the pain one feeleth in having to suppress one's wrath is more burning than fire itself. Even now I burn with it and cannot sleep in the day or the night. This son of Pritha, called Vibhatsu, is foremost in drawing the bow-string. He certainly burneth with grief, though he liveth here like a lion in his den. This one that desireth to slay without aid all wielders of the bow on earth, represseth the wrath that riseth in his breast, like a mighty elephant. Nakula, Sahadeva, and old Kunti--that mother of heroes, are all dumb, desiring to please thee. And all our friends along with the Srinjayas equally desire to please thee. I alone, and Prativindhya's mother speak unto thee burning with grief. Whatever I speak unto thee is agreeable to all of them, for all of them plunged in distress, eagerly wish for battle. Then, O monarch, what more wretched a calamity can overtake us that our kingdom should be wrested from us by weak and contemptible foes and enjoyed by them? O king, from the weakness of thy disposition thou feelest shame in violating thy pledge. But, O slayer of foes, no one applaudeth thee for thus suffering such pain in consequence of the kindliness of thy disposition. Thy intellect, O king, seeth not the truth, like that of a foolish and ignorant person of high birth who hath committed the words of the Vedas to memory without understanding their sense. Thou art kind like a Brahmana. How hast thou been born in the Kshatriya order? They that are born in the Kshatriya order are generally of crooked hearts. Thou hast heard (recited) the duties of kings, as promulgated by Manu, fraught with crookedness and unfairness and precepts opposed to tranquillity and virtue. Why dost thou then, O king, forgive the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra? Thou hast intelligence, prowess, learning and high birth. Why dost thou then, O tiger among men, act in respect of thy duties, like a huge snake that is destitute of motion? O son of Kunti, he that desireth to conceal us, only wisheth to conceal the mountains of Himavat by means of a handful of grass. O son of Pritha, known as thou art over whole earth, thou wilt not be able to live unknown, like the sun that can never course through the sky unknown to men. Like a large tree in a well-watered region with spreading branches and flowers and leaves, or like Indra's elephant, how will Jishnu live unknown? How also will these children, the brothers, Nakula and Sahadeva, equal unto a couple of young lions, both live in secret? How, O son of Pritha, will Krishna--the daughter of Drupada--a princess and mother of heroes, of virtuous deeds and known over all the world, live unknown? Me also, everybody knoweth from my boyhood. I do not see how I can live unknown. As well mighty mountains of Meru be sought to be concealed. Then, again, many kings had been expelled by us from their kingdom. These kings and princes will all follow the bad son of Dhritarashtra, for robbed and exiled by us, they have not still become friendly. Desiring to do good unto Dhritarashtra, they will certainly seek to injure us. They will certainly set against us numerous spies in disguise. If these discover us and report their discovery, a great danger will overtake us. We have already lived in the woods full thirteen months. Regard them, O king, for their length as thirteen years. The wise have said that a month is a substitute for a year, like the pot-herb that is regarded as a substitute for the _Soma_. Or, (if thou breakest thy pledge), O king, thou mayst free thyself from this sin by offering good savoury food to a quiet bull carrying sacred burdens. Therefore, O king resolve thou to slay thy enemies. There is no virtue higher than fighting, for every Kshatriya!'" SECTION XXXVI Vaisampayana said, "Hearing those words of Bhima, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti--tiger among men and slayer of all foes--began to sigh heavily, and reflect in silence. And he thought within himself, 'I have heard recited the duties of kings, also all truths about the duties of the different orders. He is said to observe those duties truly who keepeth them before his eyes, so as to regulate his conduct both in the present and the future. Knowing as I do the true course of virtue, which, however is so very difficult of being known, how can I forcibly grind virtue down like grinding the mountains of Meru?' Having reflected so for a moment, and settled what he should do, he replied unto Bhima as follows without allowing him another word: "'O thou of mighty arms, it is even so as thou hast said. But, O thou foremost of speakers, listen now to another word I say. Whatever sinful deeds, O Bhima, one seeketh to achieve, depending on his courage alone, become always a source of pain. But, O thou of mighty arms, whatever is begun with deliberation, with well-directed prowess, with all appliances, and much previous thought, is seen to succeed. The gods themselves favour such designs. Hear from me something about what, proud of thy might, O Bhima, and led away by thy restlessness, thou thinkest should be immediately begun. Bhurisravas, Sala, the mighty Jarasandha, Bhishma, Drona, Karna, the mighty son of Drona, Dhritarashtra's sons--Duryodhana and others--so difficult of being vanquished, are all accomplished in arms and ever ready for battle with us. Those kings and chiefs of the earth also who have been injured by us, have all adopted the side of the Kauravas, and are bound by ties of affection to them. O Bharata, they are engaged in seeking the good of Duryodhana and not of us. With full treasures and aided by large forces, they will certainly strive their best in battle. All the officers also of the Kuru army together with their sons and relatives, have been honoured by Duryodhana with wealth and luxuries. Those heroes are also much regarded by Duryodhana. This is my certain conclusion that they will sacrifice their lives for Duryodhana in battle. Although the behaviour of Bhishma, Drona, and the illustrious Kripa, is the same towards us as towards them, yet, O thou of mighty arms, this is my certain conclusion that in order to pay off the royal favours they enjoy, they will throw their very lives, than which there is nothing dearer, in battle. All of them are masters of celestial weapons, and devoted to the practice of virtue. I think they are incapable of being vanquished even by gods led by Vasava himself. There is again amongst them that mighty warrior--Karna--impetuous, and ever wrathful, master of all weapons, and invincible, and encased in impenetrable mail. Without first vanquishing in battle all those foremost of men, unaided as thou art, how canst thou slay Duryodhana? O Vrikodara, I cannot sleep thinking of the lightness of hand of that _Suta's_ son, who, I regard, is the foremost of all wielders of the bow!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Yudhishthira, the impetuous Bhima became alarmed, and forbore from speaking anything. And while the sons of Pandu were thus conversing with each other, there came to that spot the great ascetic Vyasa, the son of Satyavati. And as he came, the sons of Pandu worshipped him duly. Then that foremost of all speakers, addressing Yudhishthira, said, 'O, Yudhishthira, O thou of mighty arms, knowing by spiritual insight what is passing in thy heart, I have come to thee, O thou bull among men! The fear that is in thy heart, arising from Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa, and Karna, and Drona's son, and prince Duryodhana, and Dussasana, I will dispel, O slayer of all foes, by means of an act enjoined by the ordinance. Hearing it from me, accomplish it thou with patience, and having accomplished it, O king, quell this fever of thine soon.' "That foremost of speakers then, the son of Parasara, taking Yudhishthira to a corner, began to address him in words of deep import, saying, 'O best of the Bharatas, the time is come for thy prosperity, when, indeed Dhananjaya--that son of Pritha--will slay all thy foes in battle. Uttered by me and like unto success personified, accept from me this knowledge called _Pratismriti_ that I impart to thee, knowing thou art capable of receiving it. Receiving it (from thee), Arjuna will be able to accomplish his desire. And let Arjuna, O son of Pandu, go unto Mahendra and Rudra, and Varuna, and Kuvera, and Yama, for receiving weapons from them. He is competent to behold the gods for his asceticism and prowess. He is even a Rishi of great energy, the friend of Narayana; ancient, eternal a god himself, invincible, ever successful, and knowing no deterioration. Of mighty arms, he will achieve mighty deeds, having obtained weapons from Indra, and Rudra, and the lokapalas. O son of Kunti, think also of going from this to some other forest that may, O king, be fit for thy abode. To reside in one place for any length of time is scarcely pleasant. In thy case, it might also be productive of anxiety to the ascetics. And as thou maintainest numerous Brahmanas versed in the Vedas and the several branches thereof, continued residence here might exhaust the deer of this forest, and be destructive of the creepers and plants.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having addressed him thus, that illustrious and exalted ascetic Vyasa, of great wisdom, acquainted with the mysteries of the world, then imparted unto the willing Yudhishthira the just, who had meanwhile purified himself, that foremost of sciences. And bidding farewell unto the son of Kunti, Vyasa disappeared then and there. The virtuous and intelligent Yudhishthira, however, having obtained that knowledge carefully retained it in his mind and always recited it on proper occasions. Glad of the advice given him by Vyasa, the son of Kunti then, leaving the wood _Dwaitavana_ went to the forest of _Kamyaka_ on the banks of the Saraswati. And, O king, numerous Brahmanas of ascetic merit and versed in the science of orthoepy and orthography, followed him like the Rishis following the chief of the celestials. Arrived at _Kamyaka_, those illustrious bulls amongst the Bharata took up their residence there along with their friends and attendants. And possessed of energy, those heroes, O king, lived there for some time, devoted to the exercise of the bow and hearing all the while the chanting of the Vedas. And they went about those woods every day in search of deer, armed with pure arrows. And they duly performed all the rites in honour of the _Pitris_, the celestials and the Brahmanas." SECTION XXXVII Vaisampayana said, "After some time, Yudhishthira the just, remembering the command of the _Muni_ (Vyasa) and calling unto himself that bull among men--Arjuna--possessed of great wisdom, addressed him in private. Taking hold of Arjuna's hands, with a smiling face and in gentle accents, that chastiser of foes--the virtuous Yudhishthira--apparently after reflecting for a moment, spake these words in private unto Dhananjaya, 'O Bharata, the whole science of arms dwelleth in Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa, and Karna, and Drona's son. They fully know all sorts of _Brahma_ and celestial and human and _Vayavya_ weapons, together with the modes of using and warding them off. All of them are conciliated and honoured and gratified by Dhritarashtra's son who behaveth unto them as one should behave unto his preceptor. Towards all his warriors Dhritarashtra's son behaveth with great affection; and all the chiefs honoured and gratified by him, seek his good in return. Thus honoured by him, they will not fail to put forth their might. The whole earth, besides, is now under Duryodhana's sway, with all the villages and towns, O son of Pritha, and all the seas and woods and mines! Thou alone art our sole refuge. On thee resteth a great burden. I shall, therefore, O chastiser of all foes, tell thee what thou art to do now. I have obtained a science from Krishna Dwaipayana. Used by thee, that science will expose the whole universe to thee. O child, attentively receive thou that science from me, and in due time (by its aid) attain thou the grace of the celestials. And, O bull of the Bharata race, devote thyself to fierce asceticism. Armed with the bow and sword, and cased in mail, betake thyself to austerities and good vows, and go thou northwards, O child, without giving way to anybody. O Dhananjaya, all celestial weapons are with Indra. The celestials, from fear of Vritra, imparted at the time all their might to Sakra. Gathered together in one place, thou wilt obtain all weapons. Go thou unto Sakra, he will give thee all his weapons. Taking the bow set thou out this very day in order to behold Purandara.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, the exalted Yudhishthira the just, imparted that science unto Arjuna. And the elder brother having communicated with due rites the Knowledge unto his heroic brother, with speech and body and mind under perfect control, commanded him to depart. And at the command of Yudhishthira, the strong-armed Arjuna, taking up the _Gandiva_ as also his inexhaustible quivers, and accoutred in mail and gauntlets and finger-protectors made of the skin of the guana, and having poured oblations into the fire and made the Brahmanas to utter benedictions after gifts, set out (from _Kamyaka_) with the objects of beholding Indra. And armed with the bow, the hero, at the time of setting out heaved a sigh and cast a look upwards for achieving the death of Dhritarashtra's sons. And beholding Kunti's son thus armed and about to set out, the Brahmanas and _Siddhas_ and invisible spirits addressed him, saying, 'O son of Kunti, obtain thou soon what thou wishest.' And the Brahmanas, also uttering benedictions said, 'Achieve thou the object thou hast in view. Let victory be truly thine.' And beholding the heroic Arjuna, of thighs stout as the trunks of the _Sala_, about to set out taking away with him the hearts of all, Krishna addressed him saying, 'O thou strong-armed one, let all that Kunti had desired at thy birth, and let all that thou desirest, be accomplished, O Dhananjaya! Let no one amongst us be ever again born in the order of Kshatriyas. I always bow down unto the Brahmanas whose mode of living is mendicancy. This is my great grief that the wretch Duryodhana beholding me in the assembly of princes mockingly called me a _cow_! Besides this he told me in the midst of that assembly many other hard things. But the grief I experience at parting with thee is far greater than any I felt at those insults. Certainly, in thy absence, thy brothers will while away their waking hours in repeatedly talking of thy heroic deeds! If, however, O son of Pritha, thou stayest away for any length of time, we shall derive no pleasure from our enjoyments or from wealth. Nay, life itself will be distasteful to us. O son of Pritha, our weal, and woe, life and death, our kingdom and prosperity, are all dependent on thee. O Bharata, I bless thee, let success be thine. O sinless one, thy (present) task thou wilt be able to achieve even against powerful enemies. O thou of great strength, go thou to win success with speed. Let dangers be not thine. I bow to _Dhatri_ and _Vidhatri_! I bless thee. Let prosperity be thine. And, O Dhananjaya, let _Hri, Sree, Kirti, Dhriti, Pushti, Uma, Lakshmi, Saraswati_, all protect thee on thy way, for thou ever worshippest thy elder brother and ever obeyest his commands. And, O bull of the Bharata race, I bow to the Vasus, the Rudras and Adityas, the Manilas, the Viswadevas, and the Sadhyas, for procuring thy welfare. And, O Bharata, be thou safe from all spirits of mischief belonging to the sky, the earth, and the heaven, and from such other spirits generally.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Krishna, the daughter of Yajnasena, having uttered these benedictions, ceased. The strong-armed son of Pandu then, having walked round his brothers and round Dhaumya also, and taking up his handsome bow, set out. And all creatures began to leave the way that Arjuna of great energy and prowess, urged by the desire of beholding Indra, took. And that slayer of foes passed over many mountains inhabited by ascetics, and then reached the sacred Himavat, the resort of the celestials. And the high-souled one reached the sacred mountain in one day, for like the winds he was gifted with the speed of the mind, in consequence of his ascetic austerities. And having crossed the Himavat, as also the Gandhamadana, he passed over many uneven and dangerous spots, walking night and day without fatigue. And having reached _Indrakila_, Dhananjaya stopped for a moment. And then he heard a voice in the skies, saying, 'Stop!' And hearing that voice, the son of Pandu cast his glances all around. And Arjuna, capable of using his left hand with skill equal to that of his right hand, then beheld before him an ascetic under the shade of a tree, blazing with _Brahma_ brilliancy, of a tawny colour, with matted locks, and thin. And the mighty ascetic, beholding Arjuna stop at that place, addressed him, saying, 'Who art thou, O child, arrived hither with bow and arrows, and cased in mail and accoutred in scabbard and gauntlet, and (evidently) wedded to the customs of the Kshatriya? There is no need of weapons here. This is the abode of peaceful Brahmanas devoted to ascetic austerities without anger or joy. There is no use for the bow here, for there is no dispute in this place of any kind. Therefore throw away, O child, this bow of thine. Thou hast obtained a pure state of life by coming here. O hero, there is no man who is like thee in energy and prowess.' That Brahmana thus addressed Arjuna, with a smiling face, repeatedly. But he succeeded not in moving Arjuna, firmly devoted to his purpose. The regenerate one, glad at heart, smilingly addressed Arjuna once more, saying, 'O slayer of foes, blest be thou! I am Sakra: ask thou the boon thou desirest.' Thus addressed, that perpetuator of the Kuru race, the heroic Dhananjaya bending his head and joining his hands, replied unto him of a thousand eyes, saying, 'Even this is the object of my wishes; grant me this boon, O illustrious one. I desire to learn from thee all the weapons.' The chief of the celestials then, smiling, replied unto him cheerfully, saying, 'O Dhananjaya, when thou hast reached this region, what need is there of weapons? Thou hast already obtained a pure state of life. Ask thou for the regions of bliss that thou desirest.' Thus addressed, Dhananjaya replied unto him of a thousand eyes, saying, 'I desire not regions of bliss, nor objects of enjoyment, nor the state of a celestial; what is this talk about happiness? O chief of the celestials, I do not desire the prosperity of all the gods. Having left my brothers behind me in the forest, and without avenging myself on the foe, shall I incur the opprobrium for all ages of all the world?' Thus addressed, the slayer of Vritra, worshipped of the worlds, consoling him with gentle words, spake unto the son of Pandu, saying, 'When thou art able to behold the three-eyed trident-bearing Siva, the lord of all creatures, it is then, O child, that I will give thee all the celestial weapons. Therefore, strive thou to obtain the sight of the highest of the gods; for it is only after thou hast seen him, O son of Kunti, that thou wilt obtain all thy wishes.' Having spoken thus unto Phalguna, Sakra disappeared then and there, and Arjuna, devoting himself to asceticism, remained at that spot.'" SECTION XXXVIII (Kairata Parva) Janamejaya said, "O illustrious one, I desire to hear in detail the history of the acquisition of weapons by Arjuna of spotless deeds. O tell me how that tiger among men, Dhananjaya, of mighty arms and possessed of great energy, entered that solitary forest without fear. And, O thou foremost of those acquainted with the Veda, what also did Arjuna do while dwelling there? How also were the illustrious Sthanu and the chief of the celestials gratified by him? O thou best of regenerate ones, I desire to hear all this under thy favour. Thou art omniscient; thou knowest all about the gods and all about men. O Brahmana, the battle that took place of old between Arjuna--that foremost of smiters never defeated in battle--and Bhava was highly extraordinary and without parallel. It maketh one's hair stand on end to hear of it. Even the hearts of those lions among men--the brave sons of Pritha--trembled in consequence of wonder and joy and a sense of their own inferiority. O tell me in full what else Arjuna did, I do not see even the most trivial thing to Jishnu that is censurable. Therefore, recite to me in full the history of that hero." Vaisampayana said, "O tiger among Kurus, I shall recite to thee that narration, excellent and extensive and unrivalled, in connection with the illustrious hero. O sinless one, hear in detail the particulars about Arjuna's meeting with the three-eyed god of gods, and his contact with the illustrious god's person! "At Yudhishthira's command, Dhananjaya of immeasurable prowess set out (from Kamyaka) to obtain a sight of Sakra, the chief of the celestials and of Sankara, the god of gods. And the strong-armed Arjuna of great might set out armed with his celestial bow and a sword with golden hilt, for the success of the object he had in view, northwards, towards the summit of the Himavat. And, O king, that first of all warriors in the three worlds, the son of Indra, with a calm mind, and firmly adhering to his purpose, then devoted himself, without the loss of any time, to ascetic austerities. And he entered, all alone, that terrible forest abounding with thorny plants and trees and flowers and fruits of various kinds, and inhabited by winged creatures of various species, and swarming with animals of diverse kinds, and resorted to by _Siddhas_ and _Charanas_. And when the son of Kunti entered that forest destitute of human beings, sounds of conchs and drums began to be heard in the heavens. And a thick shower of flowers fell upon the earth, and the clouds spreading over the firmament caused a thick shade. Passing over those difficult and woody regions at the foot of the great mountains, Arjuna soon reached the breast of the Himavat; and staying there for sometime began to shine in his brilliancy. And he beheld there numerous trees with expanding verdure, resounding with the melodious notes of winged warblers. And he saw there rivers with currents of the _lapis lazuli_, broken by the fierce eddies here and there, and echoing with the notes of swans and ducks and cranes. And the banks of those rivers resounded with the mellifluous strains of the male _Kokilas_ and the notes of peacocks and cranes. And the mighty warrior, beholding those rivers of sacred and pure and delicious water and their charming banks, became highly delighted. And the delighted Arjuna of fierce energy and high soul then devoted himself to rigid austerities in that delightful and woody region. Clad in rags made of grass and furnished with a black deerskin and a stick, he commenced to eat withered leaves fallen upon the ground. And he passed the first month, by eating fruits at the interval of three nights; and the second by eating at the interval of the six nights; and the third by eating at the interval of a fortnight. When the fourth month came, that best of the Bharatas--the strong-armed son of Pandu--began to subsist on air alone. With arms upraised and leaning upon nothing and standing on the tips of his toes, he continued his austerities. And the illustrious hero's locks, in consequence of frequent bathing took the hue of lightning or the lotus. Then all the great Rishis went together unto the god of the _Pinaka_ for representing unto him about the fierce asceticism of Pritha's son. And bowing unto that god of gods, they informed him of Arjuna's austerities saying, 'This son of Pritha possessed of great energy is engaged in the most difficult of ascetic austerities on the breast of the Himavat. Heated with his asceticism, the earth is smoking all round, O god of gods. We do not know what his object is for which he is engaged in these austerities. He, however, is causing us pain. It behoveth thee to prevent him!' Hearing these words of those _munis_ with souls under perfect control, the lord of all creatures--the husband of Uma said, 'It behoveth you not to indulge in any grief on account of Phalguna! Return ye all cheerfully and with alacrity to the places whence ye have come. I know the desire that is in Arjuna's heart. His wish is not for heaven, nor for prosperity, nor for long life. And I will accomplish, even this day, all that is desired by him.'" Vaisampayana continued, "The truth-speaking Rishis, having heard these words of Mahadeva, became delighted, and returned to their respective abodes." SECTION XXXIX Vaisampayana said, "After all those illustrious ascetics had gone away, that wielder of the _Pinaka_ and cleanser of all sins--the illustrious Hara--assuming the form of a _Kirata_ resplendent as a golden tree, and with a huge and stalwart form like a second _Meru_, and taking up a handsome bow and a number of arrows resembling snakes of virulent poison, and looking like an embodiment of fire, came quickly down on the breast of Himavat. And the handsome god of gods was accompanied by Uma in the guise of a Kirata woman, and also by a swarm of merry spirits of various forms and attire, and by thousands of women in the form and attire of Kiratas. And, O king, that region suddenly blazed up in beauty, in consequence of the arrival of the god of gods in such company. And soon enough a solemn stillness pervaded the place. The sounds of springs, and water-courses, and of birds suddenly ceased. And as the god of gods approached Pritha's son of blameless deeds, he beheld a wonderful sight, even that of a Danava named Muka, seeking, in the form of a boar, to slay Arjuna. Phalguna, at the sight of the enemy seeking to slay him, took up the _Gandiva_ and a number of arrows resembling snakes of virulent poison. And stringing his bow and filling the air with its twang, he addressed the boar and said, 'I have come here but done thee no injury. As thou seekest to slay me, I shall certainly send thee to the abode of Yama.' And beholding that firm wielder of the bow--Phalguna--about to slay the boar, Sankara in the guise of a _Kirata_ suddenly bade him stop saying, 'The boar like the mountain of _Indrakila_ in hue hath been aimed at by me first'; Phalguna, however, disregarding these words, struck the boar. The _Kirata_ also blazing splendour, let fly an arrow like flaming fire and resembling the thunderbolt at the same object. And the arrows thus shot by both fell at the same instant of time upon the wide body of Muka, hard as adamant. And the two shafts fell upon the boar with a loud sound, even like that of Indra's thunderbolt and the thunder of the clouds falling together upon the breast of a mountain. And Muka, thus struck by two shafts which produced numerous arrows resembling snakes of blazing mouths, yielded up his life, assuming once more his terrible Rakshasa form. Jishnu--that slayer of foes--then beheld before him that person, of form blazing as god, and attired in the dress of a _Kirata_ and accompanied by many women. And beholding him, the son of Kunti with a joyous heart addressed him smilingly and said, 'Who art thou that thus wanderest in these solitary woods, surrounded by women? thou of the splendour of gold, art thou not afraid of this terrible forest? Why, again, didst thou shoot the boar that was first aimed at by me? This _Rakshasa_ that came hither, listlessly or with the object of slaying me, had been first aimed at by me. Thou shalt not, therefore, escape from me with life. Thy behaviour towards me is not consistent with the customs of the chase. Therefore, O mountaineer, I will take thy life.' Thus addressed by the son of Pandu, the _Kirata_, smiling, replied unto him capable of wielding the bow with his left hand, in soft words, saying, 'O hero, thou needst not be anxious on my account. This forest land is proper abode for us who always dwell in the woods. Respecting thyself, however, I may inquire, why thou hast selected thy abode here amid such difficulties. We, O ascetic, have our habitation in these woods abounding in animals of all kinds. Why dost thou, so delicate and brought up in luxury and possessed of the splendour of fire, dwell alone in such a solitary region?' Arjuna said, 'Depending on the _Gandiva_ and arrows blazing like fire, I live in this great forest, like a second _Pavaki_. Thou hast seen how this monster--this terrible _Rakshasa_--that came hither in the form of an animal, hath been slain by me.' The _Kirata_ replied, 'This _Rakshasa_, first struck with the shot from my bow, was killed and sent to the regions of Yama by me. He was first aimed at by me. And it is with my shot that he has been deprived of life. Proud of thy strength, it behoveth thee not to impute thy own fault to others. Thou art thyself in fault, O wretch, and, therefore, shalt not escape from me with life. Stay thou: I will shoot at thee shafts like thunderbolts. Strive thou also and shoot, to the best of thy power, thy arrows at me.' Hearing these words of the _Kirata_, Arjuna became angry, and attacked him with arrows. The _Kirata_, however, with a glad heart received all those shafts upon himself, repeatedly saying, 'Wretch, wretch, shoot thou best arrows capable of piercing into the very vitals.' Thus addressed, Arjuna began to shower his arrows on him. Both of them then became angry and, engaging in fierce conflict, began to shoot at each other showers of arrows, each resembling a snake of virulent poison. And Arjuna rained a perfect shower of arrows on the _Kirata_. Sankara, however, bore that downpour on him with a cheerful heart. But the wielder of the _Pinaka_, having borne that shower of arrows for a moment, stood unwounded, immovable like a hill. Dhananjaya, beholding his arrowy shower become futile, wondered exceedingly, repeatedly saying, 'Excellent! Excellent! Alas, this mountaineer of delicate limbs, dwelling on the heights of the Himavat, beareth, without wavering, the shafts shot from the _Gandiva_! Who is he? Is he Rudra himself, or some other god, or a Yaksha, or an Asura? The gods sometimes do descend on the heights of the Himavat. Except the god who wieldeth the _Pinaka_, there is none rise that can bear the impetuosity of the thousands of arrows shot by me from the _Gandiva_. Whether he is a god or a Yaksha, in fact, anybody except Rudra, I shall soon send him, with my shafts, to the regions of Yama.' Thus thinking, Arjuna, with a cheerful heart, began, O king, to shoot arrows by hundreds, resembling in splendour the rays of the sun. That downpour of shafts, however, the illustrious Creator of the worlds--the wielder of the trident--bore with a glad heart, like a mountain bearing a shower of rocks. Soon, however, the arrows of Phalguna were exhausted. And noticing this fact, Arjuna became greatly alarmed. And the son of Pandu then began to think of the illustrious god Agni who had before, during the burning of the _Khandava_, given him a couple of inexhaustible quivers. And he began to think, 'Alas, my arrows are all exhausted. What shall I shoot now from my bow? Who is this person that swalloweth my arrows? Slaying him with the end of my bow, as elephants are killed with lances, I shall send him to the domains of the mace-bearing Yama.' The illustrious Arjuna then, taking up his bow and dragging the _Kirata_ with his bow-string, struck him some fierce blows that descended like thunderbolts. When, however, that slayer of hostile heroes--the son of Kunti--commenced the conflict with the end of the bow, the mountaineer snatched from his hands that celestial bow. And beholding his bow snatched from him, Arjuna took up his sword, and wishing to end the conflict, rushed at his foe. And then the Kuru prince, with the whole might of his arms, struck that sharp weapon upon the head of the _Kirata_, a weapon that was incapable of being resisted even by solid rocks. But that first of swords, at touch of the _Kirata's_ crown, broke into pieces. Phalguna then commenced the conflict with trees and stones. The illustrious god in the form of the huge-bodied _Kirata_, however, bore that shower of trees and rocks with patience. The mighty son of Pritha then, his mouth smoking with wrath, struck the invincible god in the form of a Kirata, with his clenched fists, blows that descended like thunderbolts. The god in the _Kirata_ form returned Phalguna's blows with fierce blows resembling the thunderbolts of Indra. And in consequence of that conflict of blows between the son of Pandu and the _Kirata_, there arose in that place loud and frightful sounds. That terrible conflict of blows, resembling the conflict of yore between Vritra and Vasava, lasted but for a moment. The mighty Jishnu clasping the _Kirata_ began to press him with his breast, but the _Kirata_, possessed of great strength pressed the insensible son of Pandu with force. And in consequence of the pressure of their arms and of their breasts, their bodies began to emit smoke like charcoal in fire. The great god then, smiting the already smitten son of Pandu, and attacking him in anger with his full might, deprived him of his senses. Then, O Bharata, Phalguna, thus pressed by the god of the gods, with limbs, besides, bruised and mangled, became incapable of motion and was almost reduced to a ball of flesh. And struck by the illustrious god, he became breathless and, falling down on earth without power of moving, looked like one that was dead. Soon, however, he regained consciousness, and, rising from his prostrate position, with body covered with blood, became filled with grief. Mentally prostrating himself before the gracious god of gods, and making a clay image of that deity, he worshipped it, with offerings of floral garlands. Beholding, however, the garland that he had offered to the clay image of Bhava, decking the crown of the _Kirata_, that best of Pandu's sons became filled with joy and regained his ease. And he prostrated himself thereupon at the feet of Bhava, and the god also was pleased with him. And Hara, beholding the wonder of Arjuna and seeing that his body had been emaciated with ascetic austerities, spake unto him in a voice deep as the roaring of the clouds, saying, 'O Phalguna, I have been pleased with thee for thy act is without a parallel. There is no Kshatriya who is equal to thee in courage, and patience. And, O sinless one, thy strength and prowess are almost equal to mine. O mighty-armed one, I have been pleased with thee. Behold me, O bull of the Bharata race! O large-eyed one! I will grant thee eyes (to see me in my true form). Thou wert a Rishi before. Thou wilt vanquish all thy foes, even the dwellers of heaven; I will as I have been pleased with thee, grant thee an irresistible weapon. Soon shall thou be able to wield that weapon of mine.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Phalguna then beheld him--Mahadeva--that god of blazing splendour--that wielder of the Pinaka--that one who had his abode on the mountains (of Kailasa)--accompanied by Uma. Bending down on his knee and bowing with his head, that conqueror of hostile cities--the son of Pritha--worshipped Hara and inclined him to grace. And Arjuna said, 'O _Kapardin_, O chief of all gods, O destroyer of the eyes of Bhaga, O god of gods, O Mahadeva, O thou of blue throat, O thou of matted locks, I know thee as the Cause of all causes. O thou of three eyes, O lord of all! Thou art the refuge of all the gods! This universe hath sprung from thee. Thou art incapable of being vanquished by the three worlds of the celestials, the Asuras, and men. Thou art Siva in the form of Vishnu, and Vishnu in the form of Siva. Thou destroyedest of old the great sacrifice of Daksha. O Hari, O Rudra, I bow to thee. Thou hast an eye on thy forehead. O Sarva, O thou that rainest objects of desire, O bearer of the trident, O wielder of the Pinaka, O Surya, O thou of pure body, O Creator of all, I bow to thee. O lord of all created things, I worship thee to obtain thy grace. Thou art the lord of the _Ganas_, the source of universal blessing, the Cause of the causes of the universe. Thou art beyond the foremost of male beings, thou art the highest, thou art the subtlest, O Hara! O illustrious Sankara, it behoveth thee to pardon my fault. It was even to obtain a sight of thyself that I came to this great mountain, which is dear to thee and which is the excellent abode of ascetics. Thou art worshipped of all worlds. O lord, I worship thee to obtain thy grace. Let not this rashness of mine be regarded as a fault--this combat in which I was engaged with thee from ignorance. O Sankara, I seek thy protection. Pardon me all I have done.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Endued with great might, the god whose sign was the bull, taking into his the handsome hands of Arjuna, smilingly replied unto him, saying, 'I have pardoned thee.' And the illustrious Hara, cheerfully clasping Arjuna with his arms, once more consoling Arjuna said as follows." SECTION XL "Mahadeva said, 'Thou wert in thy former life Nara, the friend of Narayana. In Vadari wert thou engaged in fierce ascetic austerities for several thousands of years. In thee as well as in Vishnu--that first of male beings--dwelleth great might. Ye both, by your might, hold the universe; O lord, taking up that fierce bow whose twang resembled the deep roar of the clouds, thou, as well as Krishna, chastisedest the Danavas during the coronation of Indra. Even this _Gandiva_ is that bow, O son of Pritha, fit for thy hands. O foremost of male beings, I snatched it from thee, helped by my powers of illusion. This couple of quivers, fit for thee, will again be inexhaustible, O son of Pritha! And, O son of the Kuru race, thy body will be free from pain and disease. Thy prowess is incapable of being baffled. I have been pleased with thee. And, O first of male beings, ask thou of me the boon that thou desirest. O chastiser of all foes, O giver of proper respect, (to those deserving it) not even in heaven is there any male being who is equal to thee, nor any Kshatriya who is thy superior.' "Arjuna said, 'O illustrious god having the bull for thy sign, if thou wilt grant me my desire, I ask of thee, O lord that fierce celestial weapon wielded by thee and called _Brahmasira_--that weapon of terrific prowess which destroyeth, at the end of the _Yuga_ the entire universe--that weapon by the help of which, O god of gods, I may under thy grace, obtain victory in the terrible conflict which shall take place between myself (on one side), and Karna and Bhishma and Kripa and Drona (on the other)--that weapon by which I may consume in battle Danavas and Rakshasas and evil spirits and Pisachas and Gandharvas and Nagas--that weapon which when hurled with _Mantras_ produceth darts by thousands and fierce-looking maces and arrows like snakes of virulent poison, and by means of which I may fight with Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and Karna of ever abusive tongue, O illustrious destroyer of the eyes of Bhaga, even this is my foremost desire, _viz_., that I may be able to fight with them and obtain success.' "Bhava replied, 'O powerful one, I will give to thee that favourite weapon of mine called the _Pasuputa_. O son of Pandu, thou art capable of holding, hurling, and withdrawing it. Neither the chief himself of the gods, nor Yama, nor the king of the Yakshas, nor Varuna, nor Vayu, knoweth it. How could men know anything of it? But, O son of Pritha, this weapon should not be hurled without adequate cause; for if hurled at any foe of little might it may destroy the whole universe. In the three worlds with all their mobile and immobile creatures, there is none who is incapable of being slain by this weapon. And it may be hurled by the mind, by the eye, by words, and by the bow.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words, the son of Pritha purified himself. And approaching the lord of the universe with rapt attention, he said, 'Instruct me!' Mahadeva then imparted unto that best of Pandu's son the knowledge of that weapon looking like the embodiment of Yama, together with all the mysteries about hurling and withdrawing it. And that weapon thence began to wait upon Arjuna as it did upon Sankara, the lord of Uma. And Arjuna also gladly accepted it. And at the moment the whole earth, with its mountains and woods and trees and seas and forests and villages and towns and mines, trembled. And the sounds of conchs and drums and trumpets by thousands began to be heard. And at that moment hurricanes and whirlwinds began to blow. And the gods and the Danavas beheld that terrible weapon in its embodied form stay by the side of Arjuna of immeasurable energy. And whatever of evil there had been in the body of Phalguna of immeasurable energy was all dispelled by the touch of the three-eyed deity. And the three eyed god then commanded Arjuna, saying, 'Go thou into heaven.' Arjuna then, O king, worshipping the god with bent head, gazed at him, with joined hands. Then the lord of all the dwellers of heaven, the deity of blazing splendour having his abode on mountain-breasts, the husband of Uma, the god of passions under complete control, the source of all blessings, Bhava gave unto Arjuna, that foremost of men, the great bow called _Gandiva_, destructive of Danavas and Pisachas. And the god of gods, then leaving that blessed mountain with snowy plateaus and vales and caves, favourite resort of sky-ranging great Rishis, went up, accompanied by Uma into the skies, in the sight of that foremost of men." SECTION XLI Vaisampayana said, "The wielder of the Pinaka, having the bull for his sign, thus disappeared in the very sight of the gazing son of Pandu, like the sun setting in the sight of the world. Arjuna, that slayer of hostile heroes, wondered much at this, saying, 'O, I have seen the great god of gods. Fortunate, indeed I am, and much favoured, for I have both beheld and touched with my hand the three-eyed Hara the wielder of the Pinaka, in his boon-giving form. I shall win success. I am already great. My enemies have already been vanquished by me. My purposes have been already achieved.' And while the son of Pritha, endued with immeasurable energy, was thinking thus, there came to that place Varuna the god of waters, handsome and of the splendour of the _lapis lazuli_ accompanied by all kinds of aquatic creatures, and filling all the points of the horizon with a blazing effulgence. And accompanied by Rivers both male and female, and Nagas, and Daityas and Sadhyas and inferior deities, Varuna, the controller and lord of all aquatic creatures, arrived at that spot. There came also the lord Kuvera of body resembling pure gold, seated on his car of great splendour, and accompanied by numerous Yakshas. And the lord of treasures, possessed of great beauty, came there to see Arjuna, illuminating the firmament with his effulgence. And there came also Yama himself, of great beauty, the powerful destroyer of all the worlds, accompanied by those lords of the creation--the Pitris--both embodied and disembodied. And the god of justice, of inconceivable soul, the son of Surya, the destroyer of all creatures, with the mace in hand, came there on his car, illuminating the three worlds with regions of the Guhyakas, the Gandharvas and the Nagas, like a second Surya as he riseth at the end of the Yuga. Having arrived there, they beheld, from the effulgent and variegated summits of the great mountain, Arjuna engaged in ascetic austerities. And there came in a moment the illustrious Sakra also, accompanied by his queen, seated on the back of (the celestial elephant) Airavata, and surrounded also by all the deities. And in consequence of the white umbrella being held over his head, he looked like the moon amid fleecy clouds. And eulogised by Gandharvas, and Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, the chief of the celestials alighted on a particular summit of the mountain, like a second sun. Then Yama possessed of great intelligence, and fully conversant with virtue, who had occupied a summit on the south, in a voice deep as that of the clouds, said these auspicious words, 'Arjuna, behold us, the protectors of the worlds, arrive here! We will grant thee (spiritual) vision, for thou deservest to behold us. Thou wert in thy former life a Rishi of immeasurable soul, known as Nara of great might. At the command, O child, of Brahma, thou hast been born among men! O sinless one, by thee shall be vanquished in battle the highly virtuous grandsire of the Kurus--Bhishma of great energy--who is born of the Vasus. Thou shalt also defeat all the Kshatriyas of fiery energy commanded by the son of Bharadwaja in battle. Thou shalt also defeat those Danavas of fierce prowess that have been born amongst men, and those Danavas also that are called Nivatakavachas. And, O son of the Kuru race, O Dhananjaya, thou shalt also slay Karna of fierce prowess, who is even a portion of my father Surya, of energy celebrated throughout the worlds. And, O son of Kunti, smiter of all foes, thou shalt also slay all the portions of celestials and Danavas and the Rakshasas that have been incarnate on earth. And slain by thee, these shall attain to the regions earned by them according to their acts. And, O Phalguna, the fame of thy achievements will last for ever in the world: thou hast gratified Mahadeva himself in conflict. Thou shalt, with Vishnu himself, lighten the burden of the earth. O accept this weapon of mine--the mace I wield incapable of being baffled by any body. With this weapon thou wilt achieve great deeds.'" Vaisampayana continued, "O Janamejaya, the son of Pritha then received from Yama that weapon duly, along with the _Mantras_ and rite, and the mysteries of hurling and withdrawing it. Then Varuna, the lord of all aquatic creatures, blue as the clouds, from a summit he had occupied on the west, uttered these words, 'O son of Pritha, thou art the foremost of Kshatriyas, and engaged in Kshatriya practices. O thou of large coppery eyes, behold me! I am Varuna, the lord of waters. Hurled by me, my nooses are incapable of being resisted. O son of Kunti, accept of me these Varuna weapons along with the mysteries of hurling and withdrawing them. With these, O hero, in the battle that ensued of your on account of Taraka (the wife of Vrihaspati), thousands of mighty Daityas were seized and tied. Accept them of me. Even if Yama himself be thy foe, with these in thy hands, he will not be able to escape from thee. When thou wilt armed with these, range over the field of battle, the land, beyond doubt, will be destitute of Kshatriyas.'" Vaisampayana continued, "After both Varuna and Yama had given away their celestial weapons, the lord of treasures having his home on the heights of Kailasa, then spake, 'O son of Pandu, O thou of great might and wisdom, I too have been pleased with thee. And this meeting with thee giveth me as much pleasure as a meeting with Krishna. O wielder of the bow with the left hand, O thou of mighty arms, thou wert a god before, eternal (as other gods). In ancient _Kalpas_, thou hadst every day gone through ascetic austerities along with us. O best of men, I grant thee celestial vision. O thou of mighty arms, thou wilt defeat even invincible Daityas and Danavas. Accept of me also without loss of time, an excellent weapon. With this thou wilt be able to consume the ranks of Dhritarashtra. Take then this favourite weapon of mine called _Antarddhana_. Endued with energy and prowess and splendour, it is capable of sending the foe to sleep. When the illustrious Sankara slew Tripura, even this was the weapon which he shot and by which many mighty Asuras were consumed. O thou of invincible prowess I take it up for giving it to thee. Endued with the dignity of the Meru, thou art competent to hold this weapon.' "After these words had been spoken, the Kuru prince Arjuna endued with great strength, duly received from Kuvera that celestial weapon. Then the chief of the celestials addressing Pritha's son of ceaseless deeds in sweet words, said, in a voice deep as that the clouds or the kettle-drum, 'O thou mighty-armed son of Kunti, thou art an ancient god. Thou hast already achieved the highest success, and acquired the stature of a god. But, O represser of foes, thou hast yet to accomplish the purposes of the gods. Thou must ascend to heaven. Therefore prepare thou O hero of great splendour! My own car with Matali as charioteer, will soon descend on the earth. Taking thee, O Kaurava, to heaven, I will grant thee there all my celestial weapons.' "Beholding those protectors of the worlds assembled together on the heights of Himavat, Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, wondered much. Endued with great energy, he then duly worshipped the assembled _Lokapalas_, with words, water, and fruits. The celestials then returning that worship, went away. And the gods capable of going everywhere at will, and endued with the speed of the mind, returned to the places whence they had come. "That bull among men--Arjuna--having obtained weapons thus, was filled with pleasure. And he regarded himself as one whose desires had been fulfilled and who was crowned with success." SECTION XLII (Indralokagamana Parva) Vaisampayana said, "After the _Lokapalas_ had gone away, Arjuna--that slayer of all foes--began to think, O monarch, of the car of Indra! And as Gudakesa gifted with great intelligence was thinking of it, the car endued with great effulgence and guided by Matali, came dividing the clouds and illuminating the firmament and filling the entire welkin with its rattle deep as the roar of mighty masses of clouds. Swords, and missiles of terrible forms and maces of frightful description, and winged darts of celestial splendour and lightnings of the brightest effulgence, and thunderbolts, and propellors furnished with wheels and worked with atmosphere expansion and producing sounds loud as the roar of great masses of clouds, were on that car. And there were also on that car fierce and huge-bodied _Nagas_ with fiery mouths, and heaps of stones white as the fleecy clouds. And the car was drawn by ten thousands of horses of golden hue, endued with the speed of the wind. And furnished with prowess of illusion, the car was drawn with such speed that the eye could hardly mark its progress. And Arjuna saw on that car the flag-staff called _Vaijayanta_, of blazing effulgence, resembling in hue the emerald or the dark-blue lotus, and decked with golden ornaments and straight as the bamboo. And beholding a charioteer decked in gold seated on that car, the mighty-armed son of Pritha regarded it as belonging to the celestials. And while Arjuna was occupied with his thoughts regarding the car, the charioteer Matali, bending himself after descending from the car, addressed him, saying, 'O lucky son of Sakra! Sakra himself wisheth to see thee. Ascend thou without loss of time this car that hath been sent by Indra. The chief of the immortals, thy father--that god of a hundred sacrifices--hath commanded me, saying, _Bring the son of Kunti hither. Let the gods behold him._ And Sankara himself, surrounded by the celestials and Rishis and Gandharvas and Apsaras, waiteth to behold thee. At the command of the chastiser of Paka, therefore, ascend thou with me from this to the region of the celestials. Thou wilt return after obtaining weapons.' "Arjuna replied, 'O Matali, mount thou without loss of time this excellent car, a car that cannot be attained even by hundreds of _Rajasuya_ and horse sacrifices. Even kings of great prosperity who have performed great sacrifices distinguished by large gifts (to Brahmanas), even gods and Danavas are not competent to ride this car. He that hath not ascetic merit is not competent to even see or touch this car, far less to ride on it. O blessed one, after thou hast ascended it, and after the horses have become still, I will ascend it, like a virtuous man stepping into the high-road of honesty.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Matali, the charioteer of Sakra, hearing these words of Arjuna, soon mounted the car and controlled the horses. Arjuna then, with a cheerful heart, purified himself by a bath in the Ganges. And the son of Kunti then duly repeated (inaudibly) his customary prayers. He then, duly and according to the ordinance, gratified the _Pitris_ with oblations of water. And, lastly, he commenced to invoke the Mandara--that king of mountains--saying, 'O mountain, thou art ever the refuge of holy, heaven-seeking _Munis_ of virtuous conduct and behaviour. It is through thy grace, O mountain, that Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas attain heaven, and their anxieties gone, sport with the celestials. O king of mountains, O mountain, thou art the asylum of _Munis_, and thou holdest on thy breast numerous sacred shrines. Happily have I dwelt on thy heights. I leave thee now, bidding thee farewell. Oft have I seen thy tablelands and bowers, thy springs and brooks, and the sacred shrines on thy breast. I have also eaten the savoury fruits growing on thee, and have slated my thirst with draughts of perfumed water oozing from thy body. I have also drunk the water of thy springs, sweet as _amrita_ itself. O mountain, as a child sleepeth happily on the lap of his father, so have I, O king of mountains, O excellent one, sported on thy breast, echoing with the notes of Apsaras and the chanting of the Vedas. O mountain, every day have I lived happily on thy tablelands.' Thus having bidden farewell to the mountain, that slayer of hostile heroes--Arjuna--blazing like the Sun himself, ascended the celestial car. And the Kuru prince gifted with great intelligence, with a glad heart, coursed through the firmament on that celestial car effulgent as the sun and of extra-ordinary achievements. And after he had become invisible to the mortals of the earth, he beheld thousands of cars of extra-ordinary beauty. And in that region there was no sun or moon or fire to give light, but it blazed in light of its own, generated by virtue of ascetic merit. And those brilliant regions that are seen from the earth in the form of stars, like lamps (in the sky)--so small in consequence of their distance, though very large--were beheld by the son of Pandu, stationed in their respective places, full of beauty and effulgence and blazing with splendour all their own. And there he beheld royal sages crowned with ascetic success, and heroes who had yielded up their lives in battle, and those that had acquired heaven by their ascetic austerities, by hundreds upon hundreds. And there were also Gandharvas, of bodies blazing like the sun, by thousands upon thousands, as also Guhyakas and Rishis and numerous tribes of Apsaras. And beholding those self-effulgent regions, Phalguna became filled with wonder, and made enquiries of Matali. And Matali also gladly replied unto him, saying, 'These, O son of Pritha, are virtuous persons stationed in their respective places. It is these whom thou hast seen, O exalted one, as stars, from the earth.' Then Arjuna saw standing at the gates (Indra's region) the handsome and ever victorious elephant--Airavata--furnished with four tusks, and resembling the mountain of Kailasa with its summits. And coursing along that path of the _Siddhas_, that foremost of the Kurus and the son of Pandu, sat in beauty like Mandhata--that best of kings. Endued with eyes like lotus leaves, he passed through the region set apart for virtuous kings. And the celebrated Arjuna having thus passed through successive regions of heaven at last beheld _Amaravati_, the city of Indra." SECTION XLIII Vaisampayana said, "And the city of Indra which Arjuna saw was delightful and was the resort of _Siddhas_ and _Charanas_. And it was adorned with the flowers of every season, and with sacred trees of all kinds. And he beheld also celestial gardens called _Nandana_--the favourite resort of Apsaras. And fanned by the fragrant breezes charged with the scent of sweet-scented flowers, the trees with their load of celestial blossoms seemed to welcome him amongst them. And the region was such that none could behold it who had not gone through ascetic austerities, or who had not poured libations on fire. It was a region for the virtuous alone, and not for those who had turned their back on the field of battle. And none were competent to see it who had not performed sacrifices or observed rigid vows, or who were without a knowledge of the Vedas, or who had not bathed in sacred waters, or who were not distinguished for sacrifices and gifts. And none were competent to see it who were disturbers of sacrifices, or who were low, or who drank intoxicating liquors, or who were violators of their preceptors' bed, or who were eaters of (unsanctified) meat, or who were wicked. And having beheld those celestial gardens resounding with celestial music, the strong-armed son of Pandu entered the favourite city of Indra. And he beheld there celestial cars by thousands, capable of going everywhere at will, stationed in proper places. And he saw tens of thousands of such cars moving in every direction. And fanned by pleasant breezes charged with the perfumes of flowers, the son of Pandu was praised by Apsaras and Gandharvas. And the celestials then, accompanied by the Gandharvas and Siddhas and great Rishis, cheerfully reverenced Pritha's son of white steeds. Benedictions were poured upon him, accompanied by the sounds of celestial music. The strong-armed son of Pritha then heard around him the music of conchs and drums. And praised all around, the son of Pritha then went, at the command of Indra, to that large and extensive starry way called by the name of _Suravithi_. There he met with the _Sadhyas_, the _Viswas_, the _Marutas_, the twin _Aswins_, the _Adityas_, the _Vasus_, the _Rudras_, the _Brahmarshis_ of the great splendour, and numerous royal sages with Dilipa at their head, and Tumvura and Narada, and that couple of Gandharvas known by the names of Haha and Huhu. And the Kuru prince--that chastiser of foes--having met and duly saluted them, last of all beheld the chief of the celestials--the god of a hundred sacrifices. Then the strong-armed son of Pritha, alighting from the car approached the lord himself of the gods--his father--that chastiser of Paka. And a beautiful white umbrella furnished with a golden staff was held over the chief of the celestials. And he was fanned with a _Chamara_ perfumed with celestial scents. And he was eulogised by many Gandharvas headed by _Viswavasu_ and others, by bards and singers, and by foremost Brahmanas chanting _Rik_ and _Yajus_ hymns. And the mighty son of Kunti, approaching Indra, saluted him by bending his head to the ground. And Indra thereupon embraced him with his round and plump arms. And taking his hand, Sakra made him sit by him on a portion of his own seat, that sacred seat which was worshipped by gods and Rishis. And the lord of the celestials--that slayer of hostile heroes--smelt the head of Arjuna bending in humility, and even took him upon his lap. Seated on Sakra's seat at the command of that god of a thousand eyes, Pritha's son of immeasurable energy began to blaze in splendour like a second Indra. And moved by affection, the slayer of Vritra, consoling Arjuna, touched his beautiful face with his own perfumed hands. And the wielder of the thunderbolt, patting and rubbing gently again and again with his own hands which bore the marks of the thunderbolt the handsome and huge arms of Arjuna which resembled a couple of golden columns and which were hard in consequence of drawing the bowstring, the god of a thousand eyes eying his son of curly locks smilingly and with eyes expanded with delight, seemed scarcely to be gratified. The more he gazed, the more he liked to gaze on. And seated on one seat, the father and son enhanced the beauty of the assembly, like the sun and moon beautifying the firmament together on the fourteenth day of the dark fortnight. And a band of Gandharvas headed by Tumvuru skilled in music sacred and profane, sang many verses in melodious notes. And Ghritachi and Menaka and Rambha and Purvachitti and Swayamprabha and Urvasi and Misrakesi and Dandagami and Varuthini and Gopali and Sahajanya and Kumbhayoni and Prajagara and Chitrasena and Chitralekha and Saha and Madhuraswana, these and others by thousands, possessed of eyes like lotus leaves, who were employed in enticing the hearts of persons practising rigid austerities, danced there. And possessing slim waists and fair large hips, they began to perform various evolutions, shaking their deep bosoms, and casting their glances around, and exhibiting other attractive attitude capable of stealing the hearts and resolutions and minds of the spectators." SECTION XLIV Vaisampayana said, "The gods and the Gandharvas then, understanding the wishes of Indra, procured an excellent _Arghya_ and reverenced the son of Pritha in a hurry. And giving water to wash both his feet and face, they caused the prince to enter the palace of Indra. And thus worshipped, Jishnu continued to live in the abode of his father. And the son of Pandu continued all the while to acquire celestial weapons, together with the means of withdrawing them. And he received from the hands of Sakra his favourite weapon of irresistible force, _viz_., the thunder-bolt and those other weapons also, of tremendous roar, _viz_., the lightnings of heaven, whose flashes are inferable from the appearance of clouds and (the dancing of) peacocks. And the son of Pandu, after he had obtained those weapons, recollected his brothers. And at the command of Indra, however, he lived for full five years in heaven, surrounded by every comfort and luxury. "After some time, when Arjuna had obtained all the weapons, Indra addressed him in due time, saying, 'O son of Kunti, learn thou music and dancing from Chitrasena. Learn the instrumental music that is current among the celestials and which existeth not in the world of men, for, O son of Kunti, it will be to thy benefit.' And Parandana gave Chitrasena as a friend unto Arjuna. And the son of Pritha lived happily in peace with Chitrasena. And Chitrasena instructed Arjuna all the while in music; vocal and instrumental and in dancing. But the active Arjuna obtained no peace of mind, remembering the unfair play at dice of Sakuni, the son of Suvala, and thinking with rage of Dussasana and his death. When however, his friendship with Chitrasena had ripened fully, he at times learned the unrivalled dance and music practised among the Gandharvas. And at last having learnt various kinds of dance and diverse species of music, both vocal and instrumental, that slayer of hostile heroes obtained no peace of mind remembering his brothers and mother Kunti." SECTION XLV Vaisampayana said, "One day, knowing that Arjuna's glances were cast upon Urvasi, Vasava, calling Chitrasena to himself, addressed him in private saying, 'O king of Gandharvas, I am pleased; go thou as my messenger to that foremost of Apsaras, Urvasi, and let her wait upon that tiger among men, Phalguna. Tell her, saying these words of mine, 'As through my instrumentality Arjuna hath learnt all the weapons and other arts, worshipped by all, so shouldst thou make him conversant with the arts of acquitting one's self in female company.' Thus addressed by Indra, the chief of the Gandharvas in obedience to that command of Vasava, soon went to Urvasi that foremost of Apsaras. And as he saw her, she recognised him and delighted him by the welcome she offered and the salutation she gave. And seated at ease he then smilingly addressed Urvasi, who also was seated at ease, saying, 'Let it be known, O thou of fair hips, that I come hither despatched by the one sole lord of heaven who asketh of thee a favour. He who is known amongst gods and men for his many inborn virtues, for his grace, behaviour, beauty of person, vows and self-control; who is noted for might and prowess, and respected by the virtuous, and ready-witted; who is endued with genius and splendid energy, is of a forgiving temper and without malice of any kind; who hath studied the four Vedas with their branches, and the _Upanishads_, and the Puranas also; who is endued with devotion to his preceptors and with intellect possessed of the eight attributes, who by his abstinence, ability, origin and age, is alone capable of protecting the celestial regions like Mahavat himself; who is never boastful; who showeth proper respect to all; who beholdeth the minutest things as clearly as if those were gross and large; who is sweet-speeched; who showereth diverse kinds of food and drink on his friends and dependents; who is truthful, worshipped of all, eloquent, handsome, and without pride; who is kind to those devoted to him, and universally pleasing and dear to all; who is firm in promise; who is equal to even Mahendra and Varuna in respect of every desirable attribute, _viz_., Arjuna, is known to thee. O Urvasi, know thou that hero is to be made to taste the joys of heaven. Commanded by Indra, let him today obtain thy feet. Do this, O amiable one, for Dhananjaya is inclined to thee.' "Thus addressed, Urvasi of faultless features assumed a smiling face, and receiving the words of the Gandharva with high respect, answered with a glad heart, saying, 'Hearing of the virtues that should adorn men, as unfolded by thee, I would bestow my favours upon any one who happened to possess them. Why should I not then, choose Arjuna for a lover? At the command of Indra, and for my friendship for thee, and moved also by the numerous virtues of Phalguna, I am already under the influence of the god of love. Go thou, therefore, to the place thou desirest. I shall gladly go to Arjuna.'" SECTION XLVI Vaisampayana said, "Having thus sent away the Gandharva successful in his mission, Urvasi of luminous smiles, moved by the desire of possessing Phalguna, took a bath. And having performed her ablutions, she decked herself in charming ornaments and splendid garlands of celestial odour. And inflamed by the god of love, and her heart pierced through and through by the shafts shot by Manmatha keeping in view the beauty of Arjuna, and her imagination wholly taken up by the thoughts of Arjuna, she mentally sported with him on a wide and excellent bed laid over with celestial sheets. And when the twilight had deepened and the moon was up, that Apsara of high hips set out for the mansions of Arjuna. And in that mood and with her crisp, soft and long braids decked with bunches of flowers, she looked extremely beautiful. With her beauty and grace, and the charm of the motions of her eye-brows and of her soft accents, and her own moon-like face, she seemed to tread, challenging the moon himself. And as she proceeded, her deep, finely tapering bosoms, decked with a chain of gold and adorned with celestial unguents and smeared with fragrant sandal paste, began to tremble. And in consequence of the weight of her bosoms, she was forced to slightly stoop forward at every step, bending her waist exceedingly beautiful with three folds. And her loins of faultless shape, the elegant abode of the god of love, furnished with fair and high and round hips and wide at their lower part as a hill, and decked with chains of gold, and capable of shaking the saintship of anchorites, being decked with thin attire, appeared highly graceful. And her feet with fair suppressed ankles, and possessing flat soles and straight toes of the colour of burnished copper and high and curved like tortoise back and marked by the wearing of ornaments furnished with rows of little bells, looked exceedingly handsome. And exhilarated with a little liquor which she had taken, and excited by desire, and moving in diverse attitudes and expressing a sensation of delight, she looked more handsome than usual. And though heaven abounded with many wonderful objects, yet when Urvasi proceeded in this manner, the _Siddhas_ and _Charanas_ and _Gandharvas_ regarded her to be the handsomest object they had cast their eyes upon. And the upper half of her body clad in an attire of fine texture and cloudy hues, she looked resplendent like a digit of the moon in the firmament shrouded by fleecy clouds. And endued with the speed of the winds or the mind, she of luminous smiles soon reached the mansion of Phalguna, the son of Pandu. And, O best of men, Urvasi of beautiful eyes, having arrived at the gate of Arjuna's abode, sent word through the keeper in attendance. And (on receiving permission), she soon entered that brilliant and charming palace. But, O monarch, upon beholding her at night in his mansion, Arjuna, with a fearstricken heart, stepped up to receive her with respect and as soon as he saw her, the son of Pritha, from modesty, closed his eyes. And saluting her, he offered the Apsara such worship as is offered unto a superior. And Arjuna said, 'O thou foremost of the Apsaras, I reverence thee by bending my head down. O lady, let me know thy commands. I wait upon thee as thy servant.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Phalguna, Urvasi became deprived of her senses. And she soon represented unto Arjuna all that had passed between her and the Gandharva, Chitrasena. And she said, 'O best of men, I shall tell thee all that hath passed between me and Chitrasena, and why I have come hither. On account of thy coming here, O Arjuna, Mahendra had convened a large and charming assembly, in which celestial festivities were held. Unto that assembly came, O best of men, the Rudras and the Adityas and the Aswins and the Vasus. And there came also numbers of great Rishis and royal sages and Siddhas and Charanas and Yakshas and great Nagas. And, O thou of expansive eyes, the members of the assembly resplendent as fire or the sun or the moon, having taken their seats according to rank, honour, and prowess, O son of Sakra, the Gandharvas began to strike the _Vinas_ and sing charming songs of celestial melody. And, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, the principal Apsaras also commenced to dance. Then, O son of Pritha, thou hadst looked on me only with a steadfast gaze. When that assembly of the celestials broke, commanded by thy father, the gods went away to their respective places. And the principal Apsaras also went away to their abodes, and others also, O slayer of foes, commanded by thy father and obtaining his leave. It was then that Chitrasena sent to me by Sakra, and arriving at my abode, O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, he addressed me, saying, "O thou of the fairest complexion, I have been sent unto thee by the chief of the celestials. Do thou something that would be agreeable to Mahendra and myself and to thyself also. O thou of fair hips, seek thou to please Arjuna, who is brave in battle even like Sakra himself, and who is always possessed of magnanimity." Even these, O son of Pritha, were his words. Thus, O sinless one, commanded by him and thy father also, I come to thee in order to wait upon thee, O slayer of foes. My heart hath been attracted by thy virtues, and am already under the influence of the god of love. And, O hero, even this is my wish, and I have cherished it for ever!'" Vaisampayana continued, "While in heaven, hearing her speak in this strain, Arjuna was overcome with bashfulness. And shutting his ears with his hands, he said, 'O blessed lady, fie on my sense of hearing, when thou speakest thus to me. For, O thou of beautiful face, thou art certainly equal in my estimation unto the wife of a superior. Even as Kunti of high fortune or Sachi the queen of Indra, art thou to me, O auspicious one, of this there is no doubt! That I had gazed particularly at thee, O blessed one, is true. There was a reason for it. I shall truly tell it to thee, O thou of luminous smiles! In the assembly I gazed at thee with eyes expanded in delight, thinking, _Even this blooming lady is the mother of the Kaurava race._ O blessed Apsara, it behoveth thee not to entertain other feelings towards me, for thou art superior to my superiors, being the parent of my race.' "Hearing these words of Arjuna, Urvasi answered, saying, 'O son of the chief of the celestials, we Apsaras are free and unconfined in our choice. It behoveth thee not, therefore, to esteem me as thy superior. The sons and grandsons of Puru's race, that have come hither in consequence of ascetic merit do all sport with us, without incurring any sin. Relent, therefore, O hero, it behoveth thee not to send me away. I am burning with desire. I am devoted to thee. Accept me, O thou giver of proper respect.' "Arjuna replied, 'O beautiful lady of features perfectly faultless, listen. I truly tell thee. Let the four directions and the transverse directions, let also the gods listen. O sinless one, as Kunti, or Madri, or Sachi, is to me, so art thou, the parent of my race, an object of reverence to me. Return, O thou of the fairest complexion: I bend my head unto thee, and prostrate myself at thy feet. Thou deservest my worship as my own mother; and it behoveth thee to protect me as a son.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Partha, Urvasi was deprived of her senses by wrath. Trembling with rage, and contracting her brows, she cursed Arjuna, saying, 'Since thou disregardest a woman come to thy mansion at the command of thy father and of her own motion--a woman, besides, who is pierced by the shafts of _Kama_, therefore, O Partha, thou shalt have to pass thy time among females unregarded, and as a dancer, and destitute of manhood and scorned as a eunuch.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having cursed Arjuna thus, Urvasi's lips still quivered in anger, herself breathing heavily all the while. And she soon returned to her own abode. And that slayer of foes, Arjuna also sought Chitrasena without loss of time. And having found him, he told him all that had passed between him and Urvasi in the night. And he told Chitrasena everything as it had happened, repeatedly referring to the curse pronounced upon him. And Chitrasena also represented everything unto Sakra. And Harivahana, calling his son unto himself in private, and consoling him in sweet words, smilingly said, 'O thou best of beings, having obtained thee, O child, Pritha hath to-day become a truly blessed mother. O mighty-armed one, thou hast now vanquished even Rishis by the patience and self-control. But, O giver of proper respect, the curse that Urvasi hath denounced on thee will be to thy benefit, O child, and stand thee in good stead. O sinless one, ye will have on earth to pass the thirteenth year (of your exile), unknown to all. It is then that thou shalt suffer the curse of Urvasi. And having passed one year as a dancer without manhood, thou shalt regain thy power on the expiration of the term.' "Thus addressed by Sakra, that slayer of hostile heroes, Phalguna, experienced great delight and ceased to think of the curse. And Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu, sported in regions of heaven with the Gandharva Chitrasena of great celebrity. "The desires of the man that listeneth to this history of the son of Pandu never run after lustful ends. The foremost of men, by listening to this account of the awfully pure conduct of Phalguna, the son of the lord of the celestials, become void of pride and arrogance and wrath and other faults, and ascending to heaven, sport there in bliss." SECTION XLVII Vaisampayana said, "One day, the great _Rishi_ Lomasa in course of his wanderings, went to the abode of Indra, desirous of beholding the lord of the celestials. And the great Muni, having approached the chief of the gods, bowed to him respectfully. And he beheld the son of Pandu occupying half of the seat of Vasava. And worshipped by the great Rishis, that foremost of Brahmanas sat on an excellent seat at the desire of Sakra. And beholding Arjuna seated on Indra's seat, the Rishi began to think as to how Arjuna who was a Kshatriya had attained to the seat of Sakra himself. What acts of merit had been performed by him and what regions had been conquered by him (by ascetic merit), that he had obtained a seat that was worshipped by the gods themselves? And as the Rishi was employed with these thoughts, Sakra, the slayer of Vritra, came to know of them. And having known them, the lord of Sachi addressed Lomasa with a smile and said, 'Listen, O _Brahmarshi_, about what is now passing in thy mind. This one is no mortal though he hath taken his birth among men. O great Rishi, the mighty-armed hero is even my son born of Kunti. He hath come hither, in order to acquire weapons for some purpose. Alas! dost thou not recognise him as an ancient Rishi of the highest merit? Listen to me, O Brahmana, as I tell thee who is and why he hath come to me. Those ancient and excellent Rishis who were known by the names of Nara and Narayana are, know, O Brahmana, none else than Hrishikesa and Dhananjaya. And those Rishis, celebrated throughout the three worlds, and known by the names of Nara and Narayana have, for the accomplishment of a certain purpose, been born on earth--for the acquisition of virtue. That sacred asylum which even gods and illustrious Rishis are not competent to behold, and which is known throughout the world by the name of Vadari, and situate by the source of the Ganga, which is worshipped by the Siddhas and the Charanas, was the abode, O Brahmana, of Vishnu and Jishnu. Those Rishis of blazing splendour have, O _Brahmarshi_, at my desire, been born on earth, and endued with mighty energy, will lighten the burden thereof. Besides this, there are certain Asuras known as Nivatakavachas, who, proud of the boon they have acquired, are employed in doing us injuries. Boastful of their strength, they are even now planning the destruction of the gods, for, having received a boon, they no longer regard the gods. Those fierce and mighty Danavas live in the nether regions. Even all the celestials together are incapable of fighting with them. The blessed Vishnu--the slayer of Madhu--he, indeed who is known on earth as Kapila, and whose glance alone, O exalted one, destroyed the illustrious sons of Sagara, when they approached him with loud sounds in the bowels of the earth,--that illustrious and invincible Hari is capable, O Brahmana of doing us a great service. Either he or Partha or both may do us that great service, without doubt. Verily as the illustrious Hari had slain the Nagas in the great lake, he, by sight alone, is capable of slaying those Asuras called the Nivatakavachas, along with their followers. But the slayer of Madhu should not be urged when the task is insignificant. A mighty mass of energy that he is, it swelleth to increasing proportions, it may consume the whole universe. This Arjuna also is competent to encounter them all, and the hero having slain them in battle, will go back to the world of men. Go thou at my request to earth. Thou wilt behold the brave Yudhishthira living in the woods of Kamyaka. And for me tell thou the virtuous Yudhishthira of unbaffled prowess in battle, that he should not be anxious on account of Phalguna, for that hero will return to earth a thorough master of weapons, for without sanctified prowess of arms, and without skill in weapons, he would not be able to encounter Bhishma and Drona and others in battle. Thou wilt also represent unto Yudhishthira that the illustrious and mighty-armed Gudakesa, having obtained weapons, hath also mastered the science of celestial dancing and music both instrumental and vocal. And thou wilt also tell him, O king of men, O slayer of foes, thyself also, accompanied by all thy brothers, should see the various sacred shrines. For having bathed in different sacred waters, thou wilt be cleansed from thy sins, and the fever of thy heart will abate. And then thou wilt be able to enjoy thy kingdom, happy in the thought that thy sins have been washed off. And, O foremost of Brahmanas, endued with ascetic power, it behoveth thee also to protect Yudhishthira during his wandering over the earth. Fierce Rakshasas ever live in mountain fastnesses and rugged steppes. Protect thou the king from those cannibals.' "After Mahendra had spoken thus unto Lomasa, Vibhatsu also reverently addressed that Rishi, saying, 'Protect thou ever the son of Pandu. O best of men, let the king, O great Rishi, protected by thee, visit the various places of pilgrimage and give away unto Brahmanas in charity.'" Vaisampayana continued, "The mighty ascetic Lomasa, having answered both saying, 'So be it,' set out for the earth, desirous of arriving at Kamvaka. And having arrived at those woods, he beheld the slayer of foes and son of Kunti, king Yudhishthira the just, surrounded by ascetics and his younger brothers." SECTION XLVIII Janamejaya said, "These feats of Pritha's son endued with immeasurable energy, were certainly marvellous. O Brahmana, what did Dhritarashtra of great wisdom say, when he heard of them?" Vaisampayana said, "Amvika's son, king Dhritarashtra, having heard of Arjuna's arrival and stay at Indra's abode, from Dwaipayana, that foremost of Rishis, spake unto Sanjaya, saying, 'O charioteer, dost thou know in detail the acts of the intelligent Arjuna, of which I have heard from beginning to end? O charioteer, my wretched and sinful son is even now engaged in a policy of the most vulgar kind. Of wicked soul, he will certainly depopulate the earth. The illustrious person whose words even in jest are true, and who hath Dhananjaya to fight for him, is sure to win the three worlds. Who that is even beyond the influence of Death and Decay will be able to stay before Arjuna, when he will scatter his barbed and sharp-pointed arrows whetted on stone? My wretched sons, who have to fight with the invincible Pandavas are indeed, all doomed. Reflecting day and night, I see not the warrior amongst us that is able to stay in battle before the wielder of the _Gandiva_. If Drona, or Karna, or even Bhishma advance against him in battle, a great calamity is likely to befall the earth. But even in that case, I see not the way to our success. Karna is kind and forgetful. The preceptor Drona is old, and the teacher (of Arjuna). Arjuna, however, is wrathful, and strong, and proud, and of firm and steady prowess. As all these warriors are invincible, a terrible fight will take place between them. All of them are heroes skilled in weapons and of great reputation. They would not wish for the sovereignty of the world, if it was to be purchased by defeat. Indeed, peace will be restored only on the death of these or of Phalguna. The slayer of Arjuna, however, existeth not, nor doth one that can vanquish him. Oh, how shall that wrath of his which hath myself for its object be pacified. Equal unto the chief of the celestials, that hero gratified Agni at _Khandava_ and vanquished all the monarchs of the earth on the occasion of the great _Rajasuya_. O Sanjaya, the thunder-bolt falling on the mountain top, leaveth a portion unconsumed; but the shafts, O child, that are shot by Kiriti leave not a rack behind. As the rays of the sun heat this mobile and immobile universe, so will the shafts shot by Arjuna's hands scorch my sons. It seemeth to me that the _Chamus_ of the Bharatas, terrified at the clatter of Arjuna's chariot-wheels, are already broken through in all directions. Vidhatri hath created Arjuna as an all-consuming Destroyer. He stayeth in battle as a foe, vomitting and scattering swarms of arrows. Who is there that will defeat him?'" SECTION XLIX "Sanjaya said, 'That which hath been uttered by thee, O king, with respect to Duryodhana is all true. Nothing that thou hast said, O lord of the earth, is untrue. The Pandavas of immeasurable energy have been filled with rage at the sight of Krishna their wedded wife of pure fame brought in the midst of the assembly. Hearing also those cruel words of Dussasana and Karna, they have been so incensed, O king, that they will not, I ween, forgive (the Kurus) on thy account. I have heard, O king, how Arjuna hath gratified in battle by means of his bow the god of gods--Sthanu of eleven forms. The illustrious lord of all the gods--Kapardin himself--desirous of testing Phalguna, fought with him, having assumed the guise of a _Kirata_. And there it was that the _Lokapala_, in order to give away their weapons unto that bull of the Kuru race, showed themselves unto him of undeteriorating prowess. What other man on earth, except Phalguna, would strive to have a sight of these gods in their own forms? And, O king, who is there that will weaken in battle Arjuna, who could not be weakened by Maheswara himself possessed of eight forms? Thy sons, having dragged Draupadi, and thereby incensed the sons of Pandu, have brought this frightful and horrifying calamity upon themselves. Beholding Duryodhana showing both his thighs unto Draupadi, Bhima said with quivering lips, _wretch! those thighs of thine will I smash with my fierce descending mace, on the expiration of thirteen years_. All the sons of Pandu are the foremost of smiters; all of them are of immeasurable energy; all of them are well-versed in every kind of weapons. For these, they are incapable of being vanquished even by the gods. Incensed at the insult offered to their wedded wife, Pritha's sons, urged by wrath, will, I ween, slay all thy sons in battle.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'O charioteer, what mischief hath been done by Karna uttering those cruel words, to the sons of Pandu! Was not the enmity sufficient that was provoked by bringing Krishna into the assembly? How can my wicked sons live, whose eldest brother and preceptor walketh not in the path of righteousness? Seeing me void of eye-sight, and incapable of exerting myself actively, my wretched son, O charioteer, believeth me to be a fool, and listeneth not to my words. Those wretches also that are his counsellors, _viz_., Karna and Suvala, and others, always pander to his vices, as he is incapable of understanding things rightly. The shafts that Arjuna of immeasurable prowess may lightly shoot, are capable of consuming all my sons, leave alone those shafts that he will shoot, impelled by anger. The arrows urged by the might of Arjuna's arms and shot from his large bow, and inspired with _mantras_ capable of converting them into celestial weapons can chastise the celestials themselves. He who hath for his counsellor and protector and friend that smiter of sinful men--the lord of the three worlds--Hari himself--encountereth nothing that he cannot conquer. This, O Sanjaya, is most marvellous in Arjuna that, as we have heard, he hath been clasped by Mahadeva in his arms. That also which Phalguna, assisted by Damodara did of old towards helping Agni in the conflagration of _Khandava_, hath been witnessed by all the world. When, therefore, Bhima and Partha and Vasudeva of the Satwata race become enraged, surely my sons along with their friends and the Suvalas are all unequal to fight with them.'" SECTION L Janamejaya said, "Having sent the heroic sons of Pandu into exile, these lamentations, O _Muni_, of Dhritarashtra were perfectly futile. Why did the king permit his foolish son Duryodhana to thus incense those mighty warriors, the sons of Pandu? Tell us now, O Brahmana, what was the food of the sons of Pandu, while they lived in the woods? Was it of the wilderness, or was it the produce of cultivation?" Vaisampayana said, "Those bulls among men, collecting the produce of the wilderness and killing the deer with pure arrows, first dedicated a portion of the food to the Brahmanas, and themselves ate the rest. For, O king, while those heroes wielding large bows lived in the woods, they were followed by Brahmanas of both classes, _viz_., those worshipping with fire and those worshipping without it. And there were ten thousand illustrious _Snataka_ Brahmanas, all conversant with the means of salvation, whom Yudhishthira supported in the woods. And killing with arrows _Rurus_ and the black deer and other kinds of clean animals of the wilderness, he gave them unto those Brahmanas. And no one that lived with Yudhishthira looked pale or ill, or was lean or weak, or was melancholy or terrified. And the chief of the Kurus--the virtuous king Yudhishthira--maintained his brothers as if they were his sons, and his relatives as if they were his uterine brothers. And Draupadi of pure fame fed her husbands and the Brahmanas, as if she was their mother; and last of all took her food herself. And the king himself wending towards the east, and Bhima, towards the south, and the twins, towards the west and the north, daily killed with bow in hand the deer of the forest, for the sake of meat. And it was that the Pandavas lived for five years in the woods of _Kamyaka_, in anxiety at the absence of Arjuna, and engaged all the while in study and prayers and sacrifices." SECTION LI Vaisampayana said, "That bull among men--Dhritarashtra--the son of Amvika, having heard of this wonderful way of life--so above that of men--of the sons of Pandu, was filled with anxiety and grief. And overwhelmed with melancholy and sighing heavily and hot, that monarch, addressing his charioteer Sanjaya, said, 'O charioteer, a moment's peace I have not, either during the day or the night, thinking of the terrible misbehaviour of my sons arising out of their past gambling, and thinking also of the heroism, the patience, the high intelligence, the unbearable prowess, and the extraordinary love unto one another of the sons of Pandu. Amongst the Pandavas, the illustrious Nakula and Sahadeva, of celestial origin and equal unto the chief himself of the celestials in splendour, are invincible in battle. They are firm in the wielding of weapons, capable of shooting at a long distance, resolute in battle, of remarkable lightness of hand, of wrath that is not easily quelled, possessed of great steadiness, and endued with activity. Possessed of the prowess of lions and unbearable as the Aswins themselves, when they will come to the field of battle with Bhima and Arjuna in front, I see, O Sanjaya, that my soldiers will all be slain without a remnant. Those mighty warriors of celestial origin, unrivalled in battle by anybody, filled with rage at the remembrance of that insult to Draupadi, will show no forgiveness. The mighty warriors of the Vrishnis also, and the Panchalas of great energy, and the sons of Pritha themselves, led by Vasudeva of unbaffled prowess, will blast my legions. O charioteer, all the warriors on my side assembled together, are not competent to bear the impetus of the Vrishnis alone when commanded by Rama and Krishna. And amongst them will move that great warrior Bhima of terrible prowess, armed with his iron mace held on high and capable of slaying every hero. And high above the din will be heard the twang of the _Gandiva_ loud as the thunder of heaven. The impetus of Bhima's mace and the loud twang of the Gandiva are incapable of being stood against by any of the kings on my side. It is then, O Sanjaya, that obedient as I have been to the voice of Duryodhana, I shall have to call back the rejected counsels of my friends--counsels that I should have attended to in time.' "Sanjaya said, 'This hath been thy great fault, O king, _viz_., that though capable, thou didst not, from affection prevent thy son from doing what he hath done. The slayer of Madhu, that hero of unfading glory, hearing that the Pandavas had been defeated at dice, soon went to the woods of _Kamyaka_ and consoled them there. And Draupadi's sons also headed by Dhrishtadyumna, and Virata, and Dhrishtaketu, and those mighty warriors, the Kekayas, all went there. All that was said by these warriors at the sight of Pandu's son defeated at dice, was learnt by me through our spies. I have also told thee all, O king. When the slayer of Madhu met the Pandavas, they requested him to become the charioteer of Phalguna in battle. Hari himself, thus requested, answered them, saying, _so be it_. And even Krishna himself beholding the sons of Pritha dressed in deer skins, became filled with rage, and addressing Yudhishthira, said, "That prosperity which the sons of Pritha had acquired at Indraprastha, and which, unobtainable by other kings, was beheld by me at the _Rajasuya_ sacrifice, at which, besides, I saw all kings, even those of the Vangas and Angas and Paundras and Odras and Cholas and Dravidas and Andhakas, and the chiefs of many islands and countries on the sea-board as also of frontier states, including the rulers of the Sinhalas, the barbarous _mlecchas_, the natives of Lanka, and all the kings of the West by hundreds, and all the chiefs of the sea-coast, and the kings of the Pahlavas and the Daradas and the various tribes of the Kiratas and Yavanas and Sakras and the Harahunas and Chinas and Tukharas and the Sindhavas and the Jagudas and the Ramathas and the Mundas and the inhabitants of the kingdom of women and the Tanganas and the Kekayas and the Malavas and the inhabitants of Kasmira, afraid of the prowess of your weapons, present in obedience to your invitation, performing various offices,--that prosperity, O king, so unstable and waiting at present on the foe, I shall restore to thee, depriving thy foe of his very life. I shall, O chief of the Kurus, assisted by Rama and Bhima and Arjuna and the twins and Akrura and Gada and Shamva and Pradyumna and Ahuka and the heroic Dhrishtadyumna and the son of Sisupala, slay in battle in course of a day Duryodhana and Karna and Dussasana and Suvala's son and all others who may fight against us. And thou shalt, O Bharata, living at Hastinapura along with thy brothers, and snatching from Dhritarashtra's party the prosperity they are enjoying, rule this earth." Even these, O king, were Krishna's words unto Yudhishthira, who, on the conclusion of Krishna's speech, addressed him in that meeting of heroes and in the hearing of all those brave warriors headed by Dhrishtadyumna, saying, "O Janardana, I accept these words of thine as truth. O thou of mighty arms, do thou, however, slay my enemies along with all their followers on the expiry of thirteen years. O Kesava, promise this truly unto me. I promised in the presence of the king to live in the forest as I am now living." Consenting to these words of king Yudhishthira the just, his counsellors headed by Dhrishtadyumna soon pacified the incensed Kesava with sweet words and expressions suitable to the occasion. And they also said unto Draupadi of pure deeds in the hearing of Vasudeva himself, these words, "O lady, in consequence of thy anger, Duryodhana shall lay down his life. We promise it, O thou of the fairest complexion. Therefore, grieve no more. O Krishna, those that mocked thee, beholding thee won at dice, shall reap the fruit of their act. Beasts of prey and birds shall eat their flesh, and mock them thus. Jackals and vultures will drink their blood. And, O Krishna, thou shalt behold the bodies of those wretches that dragged thee by the hair prostrate on the earth, dragged and eaten by carnivorous animals. They also that gave thee pain and disregarded thee shall lie on the earth destitute of their heads, and the earth herself shall drink their blood." These and other speeches of various kinds were uttered there, O king, by those bulls of the Bharata race. All of them are endued with energy and bravery, and marked with the marks of battle. On the expiration of the thirteenth year, those mighty warriors, chosen by Yudhishthira and headed by Vasudeva, will come (to the field of battle). Rama and Krishna and Dhananjaya and Pradyumna and Shamva and Yuyudhana and Bhima and the sons of Madri and the Kekaya princes and the Panchala princes, accompanied by the king of Matsya, these all, illustrious and celebrated and invincible heroes, with their followers and troops, will come. Who is there that, desiring to live, will encounter these in battle, resembling angry lions of erect manes?' "Dhritarashtra said, 'What Vidura told me at the time of the game at dice, "If thou seekest, O king, to vanquish the Pandavas (at dice), then certainly a terrible blood-shed ending in the destruction of all the Kurus will be the result," I think it is about to be realised. As Vidura told me of old, without doubt a terrible battle will take place, as soon as the pledged period of the Pandavas expireth.'" SECTION LII (Nalopakhyana Parva) Janamejaya said, "When the high-souled Partha went to Indra's region for obtaining weapons, what did Yudhishthira and the other sons of Pandu do?" Vaisampayana said, "When the high-souled Partha went to Indra's region for obtaining weapons, those bulls of the Bharata race continued to dwell with Krishna in (the woods of) _Kamyaka_. One day, those foremost of the Bharatas, afflicted with grief, were seated with Krishna on a clean and solitary sward. Grieving for Dhananjaya, overwhelmed with sorrow, their voices were choked with weeping. Tortured by Dhananjaya's absence, grief afflicted them equally. And filled with sorrow at their separation from Arjuna and at the loss of their kingdom, the mighty-armed Bhima among them addressed Yudhishthira, saying, 'That Bull of the Bharata race, Arjuna, O great king, on whom depend the lives of Pandu's sons, and on whose death the Panchalas as also ourselves with our sons and Satyaki and Vasudeva are sure to die, hath gone away at thy behest. What can be sadder than this that the virtuous Vibhatsu hath gone away at thy command, thinking of his many griefs? Depending upon the might of that illustrious hero's arms, regard our foes as already vanquished in battle, and the whole earth itself as already acquired by us. It was for the sake of that mighty warrior that I refrained from sending to the other world all the Dhartarashtras along with the Suvalas, in the midst of the assembly. Gifted with might of arms, and supported by Vasudeva, we have to suppress the wrath that hath been roused in us, because thou art the root of that wrath. Indeed, with Krishna's help, slaying our foes headed by Karna, we are able to rule the entire earth (thus) conquered by our own arms. Endued with manliness, we are yet overwhelmed with calamities, in consequence of thy gambling vice, while the foolish followers of Dhritarashtra are growing stronger with the tributes (gathered from dependent kings). O mighty monarch, it behoveth thee to keep in view the duties of the Kshatriya. O great king, it is not the duty of a Kshatriya to live in the woods. The wise are of the opinion that to rule is the foremost duty of a Kshatriya. O king, thou art conversant with Kshatriya morality. Do not, therefore, deviate from the path of duty. Turning away from the woods, let us, summoning Partha and Janardana, slay, O king, the sons of Dhritarashtra, even before the twelve years are complete. O illustrious monarch, O king of kings, even if these Dhartarashtras be surrounded by soldiers in array of battle, I shall send them to the other world by dint of might alone. I shall slay all the sons of Dhritarashtra along with the Sauvalas, indeed, Duryodhana, Karna, and any one else that will fight with me. And after I shall have slain all our foes, thou mayst come back unto the woods. By acting thus, O king, no fault will be thine. (Or if any sin be thine), O represser of foes, O mighty monarch, washing it off, O sire, by various sacrifices, we may ascend to a superior heaven. Such a consummation may come to pass, if our king proveth not unwise or procrastinating. Thou art, however, virtuous. Verily the deceitful should be destroyed by deceit. To slay the deceitful by deceit, is not regarded as sinful. O Bharata, it is also said by those versed in morality that one day and night is, O great prince, equal unto a full year. The Veda text also, exalted one, is often heard, signifying that a year is equivalent to a day when passed in the observance of certain difficult vows. O thou of unfading glory, if the Vedas are an authority with thee, regard thou the period of a day and something more as the equivalent of thirteen years. O represser of foes, this is the time to slay Duryodhana with his adherents. Else, O king, he will beforehand bring the whole earth obedient to his will. O foremost of monarchs, all this is the result of thy addiction to gambling. We are on the verge of destruction already, in consequence of thy promise of living one year undiscovered. I do not find the country where, if we live, the wicked-minded Suyodhana may not be able to trace us by his spies. And finding us out, that wretch will again deceitfully send us into such exile in the woods. Or if that sinful one beholdeth us emerge, after the expiry of the pledged period of non-discovery, he will again invite thee, O great king, to dice, and the play will once more begin. Summoned once more, thou wilt again efface thyself at dice. Thou art not skilled at dice, and when summoned at play, thou wilt be deprived of thy senses. Therefore, O mighty monarch thou wilt have to lead a life in the woods again. If, O mighty king, it behoveth thee not to make us wretched for life, observe thou fully the ordinance of the Vedas, (which inculcateth that) verily the deceitful ought to be slain by deceit. If I but have thy command I would go (to Hastinapura) and, even as fire falling upon a heap of grass consumeth it, would slay Duryodhana, putting forth my utmost might. It behoveth thee, therefore, to grant me the permission.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Bhima, king Yudhishthira the just, smelt the crown of that son of Pandu, and pacifying him said, 'O mighty-armed one, without doubt, thou wilt, assisted by the wielder of the _Gandiva_, slay Suyodhana at the expiry of the thirteenth year. But, O son of Pritha, as for thy assertion, _O Lord, the time is complete_, I cannot dare tell an untruth, for untruth is not in me. O son of Kunti, without the help of fraud, wilt thou kill the wicked and irrepressible Duryodhana, with his allies.' "While Yudhishthira the just, was speaking unto Bhima thus, there came the great and illustrious Rishi Vrihadaswa before them. And beholding that virtuous ascetic before him, the righteous king worshipped him according to the ordinance, with the offering of _Madhuparka_. And when the ascetic was seated and refreshed, the mighty-armed Yudhishthira sat by him, and looking up at the former, addressed him thus in exceedingly piteous accents: "'O holy one, summoned by cunning gamblers skilled at dice, I have been deprived of wealth and kingdom through gambling. I am not an adept at dice, and am unacquainted with deceit. Sinful men, by unfair means, vanquished me at play. They even brought into the public assembly my wife dearer unto me than life itself. And defeating me a second time, they have sent me to distressful exile in this great forest, clad in deer skins. At present I am leading a distressful life in the woods in grief of heart. Those harsh and cruel speeches they addressed me on the occasion of that gambling match, and the words of my afflicted friends relating to the match at dice and other subjects, are all stored up in my remembrance. Recollecting them I pass the whole night in (sleepless) anxiety. Deprived also (of the company) of the illustrious wielder of the Gandiva, on whom depend the lives of us all, I am almost deprived of life. Oh, when shall I see the sweet-speeched and large-hearted Vibhatsu so full of kindness and activity, return to us, having obtained all weapons? Is there a king on this earth who is more unfortunate than myself? Hast thou ever seen or heard of any such before? To my thinking, there is no man more wretched than I am.' "Vrihadaswa said, 'O great king, O son of Pandu, thou sayest, "There is no person more miserable than I am." O sinless monarch, if thou wilt listen, I will relate unto thee the history of a king more wretched than thyself.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And thereupon the king said unto the ascetic, 'O illustrious one, tell me, I desire to hear the history of the king who had fallen into such a condition.' "Vrihadaswa said, 'O king, O thou that never fallest off, listen attentively with thy brothers, I will narrate the history of a prince more miserable than thyself. There was a celebrated king among the Nishadhas, named Virasena. He had a son named Nala, versed in (the knowledge of) virtue and wealth. It hath been heard by us that, that king was deceitfully defeated by Pushkara, and afflicted with calamity, he dwelt in the woods with his spouse. And, O king, while he was living in the forest, he had neither slaves nor cars, neither brother nor friends with him. But thou art surrounded by thy heroic brothers like unto the celestials, and also by foremost regenerate ones like unto Brahma himself. Therefore, it behoveth thee not to grieve.' "Yudhishthira said, 'I am anxious to hear in detail, O thou foremost of eloquent men, the history of the illustrious Nala. It behoveth thee therefore to relate it unto me.'" SECTION LIII "Vrihadaswa said, 'There was a king named Nala, the son of Virasena. And he was strong, and handsome, and well-versed in (the knowledge of) horses, and possessed of every desirable accomplishment. And he was at the head of all the kings, even like the lord of the celestials. And exalted over all, he resembled the sun in glory. And he was the king of the Nishadhas, intent on the welfare of the Brahmanas, versed in the Vedas, and possessed of heroism. And he was truth-telling, fond of dice, and the master of a mighty army. And he was the beloved of men and women, and of great soul and subdued passions. And he was the protector (of all), and the foremost of bowmen, and like unto Manu himself. And like him, there was among the Vidarbhas (a king named) Bhima, of terrible prowess, heroic and well-disposed towards his subjects and possessed of every virtue. (But withal) he was childless. And with a fixed mind, he tried his utmost for obtaining issue. And, O Bharata there came unto him (once) a Brahmarshi named Damana. And, O king of kings, desirous of having offspring, Bhima, versed in morality, with his queen gratified that illustrious Rishi by a respectful reception. And Damana, well-pleased, granted unto the king and his consort a boon in the form of a jewel of a daughter, and three sons possessed of lofty souls and great fame. (And they were called respectively) Damayanti, and Dama and Dama, and illustrious Damana. And the three sons were possessed of every accomplishment and terrible mien and fierce prowess. And the slender-waisted Damayanti, in beauty and brightness, in good name and grace and luck, became celebrated all over the world. And on her attaining to age, hundreds of hand-maids, and female slaves, decked in ornaments, waited upon her like _Sachi_ herself. And Bhima's daughter of faultless features, decked in every ornament, shone in the midst of her hand-maids, like the luminous lightning of the clouds. And the large-eyed damsel was possessed of great beauty like that of Sree herself. And neither among celestials, nor among Yakshas, nor among men was anybody possessed of such beauty, seen or heard of before. And the beautiful maiden filled with gladness the hearts of even the gods. And that tiger among men, Nala also had not his peer in the (three) worlds: for in beauty he was like _Kandarpa_ himself in his embodied form. And moved by admiration, the heralds again and again celebrated the praises of Nala before Damayanti and those of Damayanti before the ruler of the Nishadhas. And repeatedly hearing of each other's virtues they conceived an attachment towards each other not begot of sight, and that attachment, O son of Kunti began to grow in strength. And then Nala was unable to control the love that was in his bosom. And he began to pass much of his time in solitude in the gardens adjoining the inner apartment (of his palace). And there he saw a number of swans furnished with golden wings, wandering in those woods. And from among them he caught one with his hands. And thereupon the sky-ranging one said unto Nala. "Deserve I not to be slain by thee, O king. I will do something that is agreeable to thee, O king of the Nishadhas. I will speak of thee before Damayanti in such a way that she will not ever desire to have any other person (for her lord)." Thus addressed, the king liberated that swan. And those swans then rose on their wings and went to the country of the Vidarbhas. And on arriving at the city of the Vidarbhas the birds alighted before Damayanti, who beheld them all. And Damayanti in the midst of her maids, beholding those birds of extraordinary appearance was filled with delight, and strove without loss of time to catch those coursers of the skies. And the swans at this, before that bevy of beauties, fled in all directions. And those maidens there pursued the birds, each (running) after one. And the swan after which Damayanti ran, having led her to a secluded spot, addressed her in human speech, saying, O Damayanti, there is a king amongst the Nishadhas named Nala. He is equal unto the Aswins in beauty, not having his peer among men. Indeed, in comeliness, he is like _Kandarpa_ himself in his embodied form. O fair-complexioned one, O thou of slender waist, if thou becomest his wife, thy existence and this thy beauty may be of purpose. We have, indeed, beheld celestials and Gandharvas, and Nagas, and Rakshasas, and men, but never saw we before any one like Nala. Thou also art a jewel among thy sex, as Nala is the prince among men. The union of the best with the best is happy." Thus addressed by the swan, Damayanti, O monarch, replied unto him there, saying, "Do thou speak thus unto Nala also." Saying _So be it_, to the daughter of Vidarbha, the oviparous one, O king, returned to the country of the Nishadhas, and related everything unto Nala.'" SECTION LIV "Vrihadaswa said, 'O Bharata, hearing those words of the swan, Damayanti thenceforth lost all peace of mind on account of Nala. And heaving frequent sighs she was filled with anxiety, and became melancholy and pale-faced and lean. And with her heart possessed by the god of love, she soon lost colour, and with her upturned gaze and modes of abstraction, looked like one demented. And she lost all inclination for beds and seats and object of enjoyment. And she ceased to lie down by day or night, always weeping with exclamation of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ And beholding her uneasy and fallen into that condition, her hand-maids represented, O king, the matter of her illness unto the ruler of Vidarbha by indirect hints. And king Bhima, hearing of this from the handmaids of Damayanti, regarded the affair of his daughter to be serious. And he asked himself, "Why is it that my daughter seemeth to be so ill now?" And the king, reflecting by himself that his daughter had attained to puberty, concluded that Damayanti's _Swayamvara_ should take place. And the monarch, O exalted one, (invited) all the rulers of the earth, saying, _Ye heroes, know that Damayanti's Swayamvara is at hand_. And all the kings, hearing of Damayanti's _Swayamvara_, came unto Bhima, agreeable to his message, filling the earth with the clatter of their cars, the roar of their elephants, and the neighing of their horses, and accompanied with their fine-looking battalions decked in ornaments and graceful garlands. And the mighty-armed Bhima paid due reverence unto those illustrious monarchs. And duly honoured by him they took up their quarters there. "'And at the juncture, those foremost of celestial Rishis possessed of great splendour, of great wisdom and great vows--namely, Narada and Parvata--having arrived in course of their wandering at the regions of Indra entered the mansion of the lord of the immortals, receiving proper worship. And Maghavat having worshipped them reverentially, inquired after their undisturbed peace and welfare as regards all respects. And Narada said, "O lord, O divine one, peace attendeth us in every respect. And, O Maghavat, peace attendeth also O exalted one, the kings of the whole world."' "Vrihadaswa continued. 'Hearing the words of Narada the slaver of Vala and Vritra said, "Those righteous rulers of the earth who fight renouncing all desire of life, and who meet death when their time is come by means of weapons, without flying from the field,--theirs is this region, everlasting unto them and granting all desires, even as it is to me. Where be those Kshatriya heroes? I do not see those kings approach (now). Where are my favourite guests?" Thus addressed by Sakra, Narada replied, "Listen, O Mahaval, why seest not thou the kings (now)? The ruler of the Vidarbhas hath a daughter--the celebrated Damayanti. In beauty she transcendeth all the women of the earth. Her _Swayamvara_, O Sakra, will take place shortly. Thither are going all the kings and Princes from all directions. And all the lords of the earth desire to have that pearl of the earth,--desire to have her eagerly, O slaver of Vala and Vritra." And while they were talking thus, those foremost of the immortals, the _Lokapalas_ with Agni among them, appeared before the lord of the celestials. And all of them heard the words of Narada fraught with grave import. And as soon as they heard them, they exclaimed in rapture, _We also will go there_. And, O mighty monarch, accompanied by their attendants and mounted on their (respective) vehicles, they set out for the country of Vidarbhas, whither (had gone) all the kings. And, O son of Kunti, the high-souled king Nala also hearing of that concourse of kings, set out with a cheerful heart, full of Damayanti's love. And (it came to pass) that the gods saw Nala on the way treading on the earth. And his form owing to its beauty was like that of the god of love himself. And beholding him resplendent as the sun, the _Lokapalas_ were filled with astonishment at his wealth of beauty, and abandoned their intention. And, O king, leaving their cars in the sky the dwellers of heaven alighted from the welkin and spake unto the ruler of the Nishadhas, saying, "O foremost of monarchs ruling the Nishadhas, O Nala, thou art devoted to truth. Do thou help us. O best of men, be thou our messenger."'" SECTION LV "Vrihadaswa continued, 'O Bharata, Nala pledged his word to the celestials saying, "_I will do it_." And then approaching these, he asked with folded hands, "Who are ye? And who also is he that desireth me to be his messenger? And what, further, shall I have to do for you? O tell me truly!"--When the king of the Nishadhas spoke thus, Maghavat replied, saying, "Know us as the immortals come hither for Damayanti's sake. I am Indra, this one is Agni, this the lord of waters, and this, O king, is even Yama the destroyer of the bodies of men. Do thou inform Damayanti of our arrival, saying, 'The guardians of the world, (consisting of) the great Indra and the others, are coming to the assembly, desirous of beholding (the Swayamvara). The gods, Sakra and Agni and Varuna and Yama, desire to obtain thee. Do thou, therefore, choose one of them for thy lord.'" Thus addressed by Sakra, Nala said with joined hands, "I have come here with the self same object. It behoveth thee not to send me (on this errand). How can a person who is himself under the influence of love bring himself to speak thus unto a lady on behalf of others? Therefore, spare me, ye gods." The gods, however, said, "O ruler of the Nishadhas, having promised first, saying, _I will!_ why wilt thou not act accordingly now? O ruler of the Nishadhas, tell us this without delay."' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Thus addressed by those celestials, the ruler of Nishadhas spake again, saying, "Those mansions are well-guarded. How can I hope to enter them?" Indra replied, "Thou shalt be able to enter." And, saying, _So be it_, Nala thereupon went to the palace of Damayanti. And having arrived there, he beheld the daughter of the king of Vidarbha surrounded by her hand-maids, blazing in beauty and excelling in symmetry of form, of limbs exceedingly delicate, of slender waist and fair eyes. And she seemed to rebuke the light of the moon by her own splendour. And as he gazed on that lady of sweet smiles, Nala's love increased, but desirous of keeping his truth, he suppressed his passion. And at the sight of Naishadha, overpowered by his effulgence, those first of women sprang up from their seats in amazement. And filled with wonder (at his sight), they praised Nala in gladness of heart. And without saying anything, they mentally paid him homage, "Oh, what comeliness! Oh, what gentleness belongeth to this high-souled one! Who is he? Is he some god or Yaksha or Gandharva?" And those foremost of women, confounded by Nala's splendour and bashfulness would not accost him at all in speech. And Damayanti although herself struck with amazement, smilingly addressed the warlike Nala who also gently smiled at her, saying, "What art thou, O thou of faultless features, that hast come here awakening my love? O sinless one, O hero of celestial form, I am anxious to know who thou art that hast come hither. And why hast thou come hither? And how is it that thou hast not been discovered by any one, considering that my apartments are well-guarded and the king's mandates are stern." Thus addressed by the daughter of the king of the Vidarbhas, Nala replied, "O beauteous lady, know that my name is Nala. I come here as the messenger of the gods. The celestials, Sakra, Agni, Varuna and Yama, desire to have thee. O beautiful lady, do thou choose one of them for thy lord. It is through their power that I have entered here unperceived, and it is for this reason that none saw me on my way or obstructed my entrance. O gentle one, I have been sent by the foremost of the celestials even for this object. Hearing this, O fortunate one, do what thou pleasest."'" SECTION LVI "Vrihadaswa said, 'Damayanti, having bowed down unto the gods, thus addressed Nala with a smile, "O king, love me with proper regard, and command me what I shall do for thee. Myself and what else of wealth is mine are thine. Grant me, O exalted one, thy love in full trust. O king, the language of the swans is burning me. It is for thy sake, O hero, that I have caused the kings to meet. O giver of proper honour, if thou forsake me who adore thee, for thy sake will I resort to poison, or fire, or water or the rope." Thus addressed by the daughter of the king of the Vidarbhas, Nala answered her saying, "With the _Lokapalas_ present, choosest thou a man? Do thou turn thy heart to those high-souled lords, the creators of the worlds, unto the dust of whose feet I am not equal. Displeasing the gods, a mortal cometh by death. Save me, O thou of faultless limbs! Choose thou the all-excelling celestials. By accepting the gods, do thou enjoy spotless robes, and celestial garlands of variegated hues, and excellent ornaments. What woman would not choose as her lord Hutasana--the chief of the celestials, who encompassing the earth swalloweth it? What woman would not choose him as her lord the dread of whose mace induceth all creatures to tread the path of virtue? And what woman would not choose as her lord the virtuous and high-souled Mahendra, the lord of the celestials, the chastiser of Daityas and Danavas? Or, if thou couldst choose in thy heart Varuna amongst the _Lokapalas_, do so unhesitatingly. O accept this friendly advice." Thus addressed by Naishadha, Damayanti, with eyes bathed in tears of grief spake thus unto Nala, "O lord of the earth, bowing to all the gods, I choose thee for my lord. Truly do I tell thee this." The king, who had come as the messenger of the gods, replied unto the trembling Damayanti standing with folded hands, "O amiable one, do as thou pleasest. Having given my pledge, O blessed one, unto the gods in especial, how can I, having come on other's mission, dare seek my own interest? If seeking my own interest consists with virtue, I will seek it, and do thou also, O beauteous one, act accordingly." Then Damayanti of luminous smiles slowly spake unto king Nala, in words choked with tears, "O lord of men I see a blameless way, by which no sin whatever will attach unto thee. O king, do thou, O foremost of men, come to the _Swayamvara_ in company with all the gods headed by Indra. There, O Monarch, in the presence of the _Lokapalas_ I will, O tiger among men, choose thee--at which no blame will be thine." Thus addressed, O monarch, by the daughter of Vidarbha, king Nala returned to where the gods were staying together. And beholding him approach those great gods, the _Lokapalas_, eagerly asked him about all that had happened saying, "Hast thou, O king, seen Damayanti of sweet smiles? What hath she said unto us all? O sinless monarch, tell us everything." Nala answered, "Commanded by you I entered Damayanti's palace furnished with lofty portals guarded by veteran warders bearing wands. And as I entered, no one perceived me, by virtue of your power, except the princess. And I saw her hand-maids, and they also saw me. And, O exalted celestials, seeing me, they were filled with wonder. And as I spake unto her of you, the fair-faced maiden, her will fixed on me, O ye best of the gods, chose me (for her spouse). And the maiden said, 'Let the gods, O tiger among men, come with thee to the _Swayamvara_, I will in their presence, choose thee. At this, O thou of mighty arms, no blame will attach to thee.' This is all, ye gods, that took place, as I have said. Finally, everything rests with you, ye foremost of celestials."'" SECTION LVII "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Then at the sacred hour of the holy lunar day of the auspicious season, king Bhima summoned the kings to the _Swayamvara_. And hearing of it, all the lords of earth smit with love speedily came thither, desirous of (possessing) Damayanti. And the monarchs entered the amphitheatre decorated with golden pillars and a lofty portal arch, like mighty lions entering the mountain wilds. And those lords of earth decked with fragrant garlands and polished ear-rings hung with jewels seated themselves on their several seats. And that sacred assembly of Kings, graced by those tigers among men, resembled the _Bhogavati_ swarming with the Nagas, or a mountain cavern with tigers. And their arms were robust, and resembling iron maces, and well-shaped, and graceful, and looking like five-headed snakes. And graced with beautiful locks and fine noses and eyes and brows, the countenance of the kings shone like stars in the firmament. And (when the time came), Damayanti of beauteous face, stealing the eyes and hearts of the princes by her dazzling light, entered the hall. And the glances of those illustrious kings were rivetted to those parts of her person where they had chanced to fall first, without moving at all. And when, O Bharata, the names of the monarchs were proclaimed, the daughter of Bhima saw five persons all alike in appearance. And beholding them seated there, without difference of any kind in form, doubt filled her mind, and she could not ascertain which of them was king Nala. And at whomsoever (among them) she looked, she regarded him to be the king of the Nishadhas. And filled with anxiety, the beautious one thought within herself, "Oh, how shall I distinguish the celestials, and how discern the royal Nala?" And thinking thus, the daughter of Vidarbha became filled with grief. And, O Bharata, recollecting the marks belonging to the celestials, of which she had heard, she thought, "Those attributes of the celestials, of which I have heard from the aged, do not pertain to any of these deities present here upon the earth." And revolving the matter long in her mind, and reflecting upon it repeatedly, she decided upon seeking the protection of the gods themselves. And bowing down unto them with mind and speech, with folded hands, she addressed them trembling, "Since I heard the speech of the swans, I chose the king of the Nishadhas as my lord. For the sake of truth, O, let the gods reveal him to me. And as in thought or word I have never swerved from him, O, let the gods, for the sake of that truth, reveal him to me. And as the gods themselves have destined the ruler of the Nishadhas to be my lord, O, let them, for the sake of that truth, reveal him to me. And as it is for paying homage unto Nala that I have adopted this vow, for the sake of that truth, O, let the gods reveal him unto me. O, let the exalted guardians of the worlds assume their own proper forms, so that I may know the righteous king." Hearing these piteous words of Damayanti, and ascertaining her fixed resolve, and fervent love for the king of Nishadhas, the purity of her heart and her inclination and regard and affection for Nala, the gods did as they had been adjured, and assumed their respective attributes as best they could. And thereupon she beheld the celestials unmoistened with perspiration, with winkless eyes, and unfading garlands, unstained with dust, and staying without touching the ground. And Naishadha stood revealed to his shadow, his fading garlands, himself stained with dust and sweat, resting on the ground with winking eyes. And, O Bharata, discerning the gods and the virtuous Nala the daughter of Bhima chose Naishadha according to her truth. And the large-eyed damsel then bashfully caught the hem of his garment and placed round his neck a floral wreath of exceeding grace. And when that fair-complexioned maiden had thus chosen Nala for her husband, the kings suddenly broke out into exclamations of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ And, O Bharata, the gods and the great Rishis in wonder cried _Excellent! Excellent!_, applauding the king the while. And, O Kauravya, the royal son of Virasena, with heart filled with gladness, comforted the beauteous Damayanti, saying, "Since thou, O blessed one, hast chosen a mortal in the presence of the celestials, know me for a husband even obedient to thy command. And, O thou of sweet smiles, truly do I tell thee this that as long as life continueth in this body of mine, I will remain thine and thine alone." Damayanti also, with folded hands paid homage unto Nala in words of like import. And the happy pair beholding Agni and the other gods mentally sought their protection. And after the daughter of Bhima had chosen Naishadha as her husband, the _Lokapalas_ of exceeding effulgence with pleased hearts, bestowed on Nala eight boons. And Sakra, the lord of Sachi, bestowed on Nala the boon that he should be able to behold his godship in sacrifices and that he should attain to blessed regions thereafter, and Hutasana bestowed on him the boon of his own presence whenever Naishadha wished, and regions also bright as himself. And Yama granted him subtle taste in food as well as pre-eminence in virtue. And the lord of waters granted Nala his own presence whenever he desired, and also garlands of celestial fragrance. And thus each of them bestowed upon him a couple of boons. And having bestowed these the gods went to heaven. And the kings also, having witnessed with wonder Damayanti's selection of Nala, returned delighted whence they had come. And on the departure of those mighty monarchs, the high-souled Bhima, well pleased, celebrated the wedding of Nala and Damayanti. And having stayed there for a time according to his desire, Naishadha, the best of men, returned to his own city with the permission of Bhima. And having attained that pearl of a woman, the virtuous king, O monarch, began to pass his days in joy, like the slayer of Vala and Vritra in the company of Sachi. And resembling the sun in glory, the king, full of gladness, began to rule his subjects righteously, and give them great satisfaction. And like unto Yayati, the son of Nahusha, that intelligent monarch celebrated the horse sacrifice and many other sacrifices with abundant gifts to Brahmanas. And like unto a very god, Nala sported with Damayanti in romantic woods and groves. And the high-minded king begat upon Damayanti a son named Indrasena, and a daughter named Indrasena. And celebrating sacrifice, and sporting (with Damayanti) thus, the king ruled the earth abounding in wealth.'" SECTION LVIII "Vrihadaswa said, 'When the blazing guardians of the worlds were returning after the daughter of Bhima had chosen Naishadha, on their way they met Dwapara with Kali approaching towards them. And seeing Kali, Sakra the slayer of Vala and Vritra, said, "O Kali, say whither thou art going with Dwapara." And thereupon Kali replied unto Sakra, "Going to Damayanti's _Swayamvara_, will I obtain her (for my wife), as my heart is fixed upon that damsel." Hearing this, Indra said with a smile, "That _Swayamvara_ is already ended. In our sight she hath chosen Nala for her husband." Thus answered by Sakra, Kali, that vilest of the celestials, filled with wrath, addressing all those gods spake, "Since in the presence of the celestials she hath chosen a mortal for her lord, it is meet that she should undergo a heavy doom." Upon hearing these words of Kali, the celestials answered, "It is with our sanction that Damayanti hath chosen Nala. What damsel is there that would not choose king Nala endued with every virtue? Well-versed in all duties, always conducting himself with rectitude, he hath studied the four Vedas together with the Puranas that are regarded as the fifth. Leading a life of harmlessness unto all creatures, he is truth-telling and firm in his vows, and in his house the gods are ever gratified by sacrifices held according to the ordinance. In that tiger among men--that king resembling a _Lokapala_ in truth, and forbearance, and knowledge, and asceticism, and purity and self-control, and perfect tranquillity of soul. O Kali, the fool that wisheth to curse Nala bearing such a character, curseth himself, and destroyeth himself by his own act. And, O Kali, he that seeketh to curse Nala crowned with such virtues, sinketh into the wide bottomless pit of hell rife with torments." Having said this to Kali and Dwapara, the gods went to heaven. And when the gods had gone away, Kali said unto Dwapara, "I am ill able, O Dwapara, to suppress my anger. I shall possess Nala, deprive him of his kingdom, and he shall no more sport with Bhima's daughter. Entering the dice, it behoveth thee to help me."'" SECTION LIX "Vrihadaswa said, 'Having made this compact with Dwapara, Kali came to the place where the king of the Nishadhas was. And always watching for a hole, he continued to dwell in the country of the Nishadhas for a long time. And it was in the twelfth year that Kali saw a hole. For one day after answering the call of nature, Naishadha touching water said his twilight prayers, without having previously washed his feet. And it was through this (omission) that Kali entered his person. And having possessed Nala, he appeared before Pushkara, and addressed him, saying, "Come and play at dice with Nala. Through my assistance thou wilt surely win at the play. And defeating king Nala and acquiring his kingdom, do thou rule the Nishadhas." Thus exhorted by Kali, Pushkara went to Nala. And Dwapara also approached Pushkara, becoming the principal die called _Vrisha_. And appearing before the warlike Nala, that slayer of hostile heroes, Pushkara, repeatedly said, "Let us play together with dice." Thus challenged in the presence of Damayanti, the lofty-minded king could not long decline it. And he accordingly fixed the time for the play. And possessed by Kali, Nala began to lose, in the game, his stakes in gold, and silver, and cars with the teams thereof, and robes. And maddened at dice, no one amongst his friends could succeed in dissuading that represser of foes from the play that went on. And thereupon, O Bharata, the citizens in a body, with the chief councillors, came thither to behold the distressed monarch and make him desist. And the charioteer coming to Damayanti spake to her of this, saying, "O lady, the citizens and officers of the state wait at the gate. Do thou inform the king of the Nishadhas that the citizens have come here, unable to bear the calamity that hath befallen their king conversant with virtue and wealth." Thereupon Bhima's daughter, overwhelmed with grief and almost deprived of reason by it, spake unto Nala in choked accents, "O king, the citizens with the councillors of state, urged by loyalty, stay at the gate desirous of beholding thee. It behoveth thee to grant them an interview." But the king, possessed by Kali, uttered not a word in reply unto his queen of graceful glances, uttering thus her lamentations. And at this, those councillors of state as also the citizens, afflicted with grief and shame, returned to their homes, saying, "_He liveth not_." And, O Yudhishthira, it was thus that Nala and Pushkara gambled together for many months, the virtuous Nala being always worsted.'" SECTION LX "Vrihadaswa said, 'Bhima's daughter, the cool-headed Damayanti, seeing the righteous king maddened and deprived of his senses at dice, was filled, O king, with alarm and grief. And she thought the affair to be a serious one with the king. And apprehensive of the calamity that threatened Nala, yet seeking his welfare and at last understanding that her lord had lost everything, she said unto her nurse and maid-servant Vrihatsena of high fame, intent upon her good, dexterous in all duties, faithful and sweet-speeched, these words, "O Vrihatsena, go thou and summon the councillors in the name of Nala, and tell them also what of wealth and other things hath been lost and what remaineth." The councillors then, hearing of Nala's summons, said, "This is fortunate for us" and approached the king. And when the subjects in a body had (thus) come a second time, the daughter of Bhima informed Nala of it. But the king regarded her not. Finding her husband disregarding her words, Damayanti, filled with shame, returned to her apartments. And hearing that the dice were uniformly unfavourable to the virtuous Nala, and that he had lost everything, she again spake unto her nurse, saying, "O Vrihatsena, go thou again in Nala's name to bring hither, O blessed one, the charioteer, Varshneya. The matter at hand is very serious." And Vrihatsena, hearing those words of Damayanti caused Varshneya to be summoned by trusty servants. And the blameless daughter of Bhima, acquainted with conduct suitable to time and place, addressing soft words said according to the occasion, "Thou knowest how the king hath always behaved towards thee. He is now in difficulty, and it behoveth thee to assist him. The more the king loseth to Pushkara, the greater becometh his ardour for the play. And as the dice fall obedient to Pushkara, it is seen that they are adverse to Nala in the matter of the play. And absorbed in the play, he heedeth not the words of his friends and relatives, nor even those of mine. I do not think, however, that in this the high-souled Naishadha is to blame, in as much as the king regarded not my words, being absorbed in play. O Charioteer, I seek thy protection. Do my behest. My mind misgiveth me. The king may come to grief. Yoking Nala's favourite horses endued with the fleetness of the mind, do thou take these twins (my son and daughter) on the car and hie thou to Kundina. Leaving the children there with my kindred as also the car and the horses, either stay thou there, or go to any other place as it listeth thee." Varshneya, the charioteer of Nala, then reported in detail these words of Damayanti unto the chief officers of the king. And having settled (the matter) in consultation with them, and obtaining their assent, O mighty monarch, the charioteer started for Vidarbha, taking the children on that car. And leaving there the boy Indrasena and the girl Indrasena, as also that best of cars and those steeds, the charioteer, with a sad heart grieving for Nala, bade farewell unto Bhima. And wandering for some time, he arrived at the city of Ayodhya. And there he appeared with a sorrowful heart before king Rituparna, and entered the service of that monarch as charioteer.'" SECTION LXI "Vrihadaswa said, 'After Varshneya had gone away, Pushkara won from the righteous Nala that latter's kingdom and what else of wealth he had. And unto Nala, O king, who had lost his kingdom, Pushkara laughingly said, "Let the play go on. But what stake hast thou now? Damayanti only remaineth; all else of thine hath been won by me. Well, if thou likest, that Damayanti be our stake now." Hearing these words of Pushkara the virtuous king felt as if his heart would burst in rage, but he spake not a word. And gazing at Pushkara in anguish, king Nala of great fame took all the ornaments off every part of his body. And attired in a single piece of cloth, his body uncovered, renouncing all his wealth, and enhancing the grief of friends, the king set out. And Damayanti, clad in one piece of cloth, followed him behind as he was leaving the city. And coming to the outskirts of the city, Nala stayed there for three nights with his wife. But Pushkara, O king, proclaimed through the city that _he that should show any attention to Nala, would be doomed to death_. And on account of these words of Pushkara and knowing his malice towards Nala, the citizens, O Yudhishthira, no longer showed him hospitable regards. And unregarded though deserving of hospitable regards, Nala passed three nights in the outskirts of the city, living on water alone. And afflicted with hunger, the king went away in search of fruit and roots, Damayanti following him behind. And in agony of famine, after many days, Nala saw some birds with plumage of golden hue. And thereupon the mighty lord of the Nishadhas thought within himself, "These will be my banquet today and also my wealth." And then he covered them with the cloth he had on--when bearing up that garment of his, the birds rose up to the sky. And beholding Nala nude and melancholy, and standing with face turned towards the ground, those rangers of the sky addressed him, saying, "O thou of small sense, we are even those dice. We had come hither wishing to take away thy cloth, for it pleased us not that thou shouldst depart even with thy cloth on." And finding himself deprived of his attire, and knowing also that the dice were departing (with it), the virtuous Nala, O king, thus spake unto Damayanti, "O faultless one, they through whose anger I have been despoiled of my kingdom, they through whose influence distressed and afflicted with hunger, I am unable to procure sustenance, they for whom the Nishadhas offered me not any hospitality, they, O timid one, are carrying off my cloth, assuming the form of birds. Fallen into this dire disaster, I am afflicted with grief and deprived of my senses, I am thy lord, do thou, therefore, listen to the words I speak for thy good. These many roads lead to the southern country, passing by (the city of) Avanti and the Rikshavat mountains. This is that mighty mountain called Vindhya; yon, the river Payasvini running sea-wards, and yonder are the asylums of the ascetics, furnished with various fruit and roots. This road leadeth to the country of the Vidarbhas--and that, to the country of the Kosalas. Beyond these roads to the south is the southern country." Addressing Bhima's daughter, O Bharata, the distressed king Nala spake those words unto Damayanti over and over again. Thereupon afflicted with grief, in a voice choked with tears, Damayanti spake unto Naishadha these piteous words, "O king, thinking of thy purpose, my heart trembleth, and all my limbs become faint. How can I go, leaving thee in the lone woods despoiled of thy kingdom and deprived of thy wealth, thyself without a garment on, and worn with hunger and toil? When in the deep woods, fatigued and afflicted with hunger, thou thinkest of thy former bliss, I will, O great monarch, soothe thy weariness. In every sorrow there is no physic equal unto the wife, say the physicians. It is the truth, O Nala, that I speak unto thee." Hearing those words of his queen, Nala replied, "O slender-waisted Damayanti, it is even as thou hast said. To a man in distress, there is no friend or medicine that is equal unto a wife. But I do not seek to renounce thee, wherefore, O timid one, dost thou dread this? O faultless one, I can forsake myself but thee I cannot forsake." Damayanti then said, "If thou dost not, O mighty king, intend to forsake me, why then dost thou point out to me the way to the country of the Vidarbhas? I know, O king, that thou wouldst not desert me. But, O lord of the earth, considering that thy mind is distracted, thou mayst desert me. O best of men, thou repeatedly pointest out to me the way and it is by this, O god-like one, that thou enhancest my grief. If it is thy intention that I should go to my relatives, then if it pleaseth thee, both of us will wend to the country of the Vidarbhas. O giver of honours, there the king of the Vidarbhas will receive thee with respect. And honoured by him, O king, thou shall live happily in our home."'" SECTION LXII "'Nala said, "Surely, thy father's kingdom is as my own. But thither I will not, by any means, repair in this extremity. Once I appeared there in glory, increasing thy joy. How can I go there now in misery, augmenting thy grief?"' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Saying this again and again unto Damayanti, king Nala, wrapped in half a garment, comforted his blessed wife. And both attired in one cloth and wearied with hunger and thirst, in course of their wanderings, at last they came to a sheltered shed for travellers. And arrived at this place, the king of the Nishadhas sat down on the bare earth with the princess of Vidarbha. And wearing the same piece of cloth (with Damayanti), and dirty, and haggard, and stained with dust, he fell asleep with Damayanti on the ground in weariness. And suddenly plunged in distress, the innocent and delicate Damayanti with every mark of good fortune, fell into a profound slumber. And, O monarch, while she slept, Nala, with heart and mind distraught, could not slumber calmly as before. And reflecting on the loss of his kingdom, the desertion of his friends, and his distress in the woods, he thought with himself, "What availeth my acting thus? And what if I act not thus? Is death the better for me now? Or should I desert my wife? She is truly devoted to me and suffereth this distress for my sake. Separated from me, she may perchance wander to her relatives. Devoted as she is to me, if she stayeth with me, distress will surely be hers; while it is doubtful, if I desert her. On the other hand, it is not unlikely that she may even have happiness some time." Reflecting upon this repeatedly, and thinking of it again and again, he concluded, O monarch, that the desertion of Damayanti was the best course for him. And he also thought, "Of high fame and auspicious fortune, and devoted to me, her husband, she is incapable of being injured by any one on the way on account of her energy." Thus his mind that was influenced by the wicked Kali, dwelling upon Damayanti, was made up for deserting her. And then thinking of his own want of clothing, and of her being clad in a single garment, he intended to cut off for himself one half of Damayanti's attire. And he thought, "How shall I divide this garment, so that my beloved one may not perceive?" And thinking of this, the royal Nala began to walk up and down that shed. And, O Bharata, pacing thus to and fro, he found a handsome sword lying near the shed, unsheathed. And that repressor of foes, having with that sword cut off one half of the cloth, and throwing the instrument away, left the daughter of Vidharbha insensible in her sleep and went away. But his heart failing him, the king of the Nishadhas returned to the shed, and seeing Damayanti (again), burst into tears. And he said, "Alas! that beloved one of mine whom neither the god of wind nor the sun had seen before, even she sleepeth to-day on the bare earth, like one forlorn. Clad in this severed piece of cloth, and lying like one distracted, how will the beauteous one of luminous smiles behave when she awaketh? How will the beautiful daughter of Bhima, devoted to her lord, all alone and separated from me, wander through these deep woods inhabited by beasts and serpents? O blessed one, may the Adityas and the Vasus, and the twin Aswins together with the Marutas protect thee, thy virtue being thy best guard." And addressing thus his dear wife peerless on earth in beauty, Nala strove to go, reft of reason by Kali. Departing and still departing, king Nala returned again and again to that shed, dragged away by Kali but drawn back by love. And it seemed as though the heart of the wretched king was rent in twain, and like a swing, he kept going out from cabin and coming back into it. At length after lamenting long and piteously, Nala stupefied and bereft of sense by Kali went away, forsaking that sleeping wife of his. Reft of reason through Kali's touch, and thinking of his conduct, the king departed in sorrow, leaving his wife alone in that solitary forest.'" SECTION LXIII "Vrihadaswa said, 'O king, after Nala had gone away, the beauteous Damayanti, now refreshed, timorously awoke in that lonely forest. And O mighty monarch, not finding her lord Naishadha, afflicted with grief and pain, she shrieked aloud in fright, saying, "O lord? O mighty monarch! O husband, dost thou desert me? Oh, I am lost and undone, frightened in this desolate place. O illustrious prince, thou art truthful in speech, and conversant with morality. How hast thou then, having pledged thy word, deserted me asleep in the woods? Oh, why hast thou deserted thy accomplished wife, ever devoted to thee, particularly one that hath not wronged thee, though wronged thou hast been by others? O king of men, it behoveth thee to act faithfull, according to those words thou hadst spoken unto me before in the presence of the guardians of the worlds. O bull among men, that thy wife liveth even a moment after thy desertion of her, is only because mortals are decreed to die at the appointed time. O bull among men, enough of this joke! O irrepressible one, I am terribly frightened. O lord, show thyself. I see thee! I see thee, o king! Thou art seen, O Naishadha. Hiding thyself behind those shrubs, why dost thou not reply unto me? It is cruel of thee, O great king, that seeing me in this plight and so lamenting, thou dost not, O king, approach and comfort me. I grieve not for myself, nor for anything else. I only grieve to think how thou wilt pass thy days alone, O king. In the evening oppressed with hunger and thirst and fatigue, underneath the trees, how wilt it take with thee when thou seest me not?" And then Damayanti, afflicted with anguish and burning with grief, began to rush hither and thither, weeping in woe. And now the helpless princess sprang up, and now she sank down in stupor; and now she shrank in terror, and now she wept and wailed aloud. And Bhima's daughter devoted to her husband, burning in anguish and sighing ever more, and faint and weeping exclaimed, "That being through whose imprecation the afflicted Naishadha suffereth this woe, shall bear grief that is greater than ours. May that wicked being who hath brought Nala of sinless heart this, lead a more miserable life bearing greater ills." Thus lamenting, the crowned consort of the illustrious (king) began to seek her lord in those woods, inhabited by beasts of prey. And the daughter of Bhima, wailing bitterly, wandered hither and thither like a maniac, exclaiming, _"Alas! Alas! Oh king!"_ And as she was wailing loudly like a female osprey, and grieving and indulging in piteous lamentations unceasingly, she came near a gigantic serpent. And that huge and hungry serpent thereupon suddenly seized Bhima's daughter, who had come near and was moving about within its range. And folded within serpent's coils and filled with grief, she still wept, not for herself but for Naishadha. And she said "O lord, why dost thou not rush towards me, now that I am seized, without anybody to protect me, by this serpent in these desert wilds? And, O Naishadha, how will it fare with thee when thou rememberest me? O lord, why hast thou gone away, deserting me today in the forest? Free from thy curse, when thou wilt have regained thy mind and senses and wealth, how will it be with thee when thou thinkest of me? O Naishadha, O sinless one, who will soothe thee when thou art weary, and hungry, and fainting, O tiger among kings?" And while she was wailing thus, a certain huntsman ranging the deep woods, hearing her lamentations, swiftly came to the spot. And beholding the large-eyed one in the coils of the serpent, he pushed towards it and cut off its head with his sharp weapon. And having struck the reptile dead, the huntsman set Damayanti free. And having sprinkled her body with water and fed and comforted her, O Bharata, he addressed her saying, "O thou with eyes like those of a young gazelle, who art thou? And why also hast thou come into the woods? And, O beauteous one, how hast thou fallen into this extreme misery?" And thus accosted, O monarch, by that man, Damayanti, O Bharata, related unto him all that had happened. And beholding that beautiful woman clad in half a garment, with deep bosom and round hips, and limbs delicate and faultless, and face resembling the full moon, and eyes graced with curved eye-lashes, and speech sweet as honey, the hunter became inflamed with desire. And afflicted by the god of love, the huntsman began to soothe her in winning voice and soft words. And as soon as the chaste and beauteous Damayanti, beholding him understood his intentions, she was filled with fierce wrath and seemed to blaze up in anger. But the wicked-minded wretch, burning with desire became wroth, attempted to employ force upon her, who was unconquerable as a flame of blazing fire. And Damayanti already distressed upon being deprived of husband and kingdom, in that hour of grief beyond utterance, cursed him in anger, saying, "I have never even thought of any other person than Naishadha, therefore let this mean-minded wretch subsisting on chase, fall down lifeless." And as soon as she said this, the hunter fell down lifeless upon the ground, like a tree consumed by fire.'" SECTION LXIV "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Having destroyed that hunter Damayanti of eyes like lotus leaves, went onwards through that fearful and solitary forest ringing with the chirp of crickets. And it abounded with lions, and leopards, and _Rurus_ and tigers, and buffaloes, and bears and deer. And it swarmed with birds of various species, and was infested by thieves and _mlechchha_ tribes. And it contained _Salas_, and bamboos and _Dhavas_, and _Aswatthas_, and _Tindukas_ and _Ingudas_, and _Kinsukas_, and _Arjunas_, and _Nimvas_, and _Tinisas_ and _Salmalas_, and _Jamvus_, and mango trees, and _Lodhras_, and the catechu, and the cane, and _Padmakas_, and _Amalahas_, and _Plakshas_, and _Kadamvas_, and _Udumvaras_ and _Vadaras_, and _Vilwas_, and banians, and _Piyalas_, and palms, and date-trees, and _Haritakas_ and _Vibhitakas_. And the princess of Vidarbha saw many mountains containing ores of various kinds, and groves resounding with the notes of winged choirs, and many glens of wondrous sight, and many rivers and lakes and tanks and various kinds of birds and beasts. And she saw numberless snakes and goblins and _Rakshasas_ of grim visage, and pools and tanks and hillocks, and brooks and fountains of wonderful appearance. And the princess of Vidarbha saw there herds of buffaloes, and boars, and bears as well as serpents of the wilderness. And safe in virtue and glory and good fortune and patience, Damayanti wandered through those woods alone, in search of Nala. And the royal daughter of Bhima, distressed only at her separation from her lord, was not terrified at aught in that fearful forest. And, O king, seating herself down upon a stone and filled with grief, and every limb of hers trembling with sorrow on account of her husband, she began to lament thus: "O king of the Nishadhas, O thou of broad chest and mighty arms, whither hast thou gone, O king, leaving me in this lone forest? O hero, having performed the _Aswamedha_ and other sacrifices, with gifts in profusion (unto the Brahmanas), why hast thou, O tiger among men, played false with me alone? O best of men, O thou of great splendour, it behoveth thee, O auspicious one, to remember what thou didst declare before me, O bull among kings! And, O monarch, it behoveth thee also to call to mind what the sky-ranging swans spake in thy presence and in mine. O tiger among men, the four Vedas in all their extent, with the Angas and the Upangas, well-studied, on one side, and one single truth on the other, (are equal). Therefore, O slayer of foes, it behoveth thee, O lord of men, to make good what thou didst formerly declare before me. Alas, O hero! warrior! O Nala! O sinless one being thine, I am about to perish in this dreadful forest. Oh! wherefore dost thou not answer me? This terrible lord of the forest, of grim visage and gaping jaws, and famishing with hunger, filleth me with fright. Doth it not behove thee to deliver me? Thou wert wont to say always, _Save thee there existeth not one dear unto me_. O blessed one, O king, do thou now make good thy words so spoken before. And, O king, why dost thou not return an answer to thy beloved wife bewailing and bereft of sense, although thou lovest her, being loved in return? O king of the earth, O respected one, O represser of foes, O thou of large eyes, why dost thou not regard me, emaciated, and distressed and pale, and discoloured, and clad in a half piece of cloth, and alone, and weeping, and lamenting like one forlorn, and like unto a solitary doe separated from the herd? O illustrious sovereign, it is, I, Damayanti, devoted to thee, who, alone in this great forest, address thee. Wherefore, then, dost thou not reply unto me? Oh, I do not behold thee today on this mountain, O chief of men, O thou of noble birth and character with every limb possessed of grace! In this terrible forest, haunted by lions and tigers, O king of the Nishadhas, O foremost of men, O enhancer of my sorrows, (Wishing to know) whether thou art lying down, or sitting, or standing, or gone, whom shall I ask, distressed and woe-stricken on thy account, saying, _Hast thou seen in this woods the royal Nala?_ Of whom shall I in this forest enquire after the departed Nala, handsome and of high soul, and the destroyer of hostile arrays? From whom shall I today hear the sweet words, _viz_., _That royal Nala, of eyes like lotus-leaves, whom thou seekest, is even here?_ Yonder cometh the forest-king, that tiger of graceful mien, furnished with four teeth and prominent cheeks. Even him will I accost fearlessly: Thou art the lord of all animals, and of this forest the king. Know me for Damayanti, the daughter of the king of the Vidarbhas, and the wife of Nala, destroyer of foes, and the king of the Nishadhas. Distressed and woe-stricken, I am seeking my husband alone in these woods. Do thou, O king of beasts, comfort me (with news of Nala) if thou hast seen him. Or, O lord of the forest, if thou cannot speak of Nala, do thou, then, O best of beasts, devour me, and free me from this misery. Alas! hearing my plaintive appeal in the wilderness, this king of mountains, this high and sacred hill, crested with innumerable heaven-kissing and many-hued and beauteous peaks, and abounding in various ores, and decked with gems of diverse kings, and rising like a banner over this broad forest, and ranged by lions and tigers and elephants and boars and bears and stags, and echoing all around with (the notes of) winged creatures of various species, and adorned with _kinsukas_ and _Asokas_ and _Vakulas_ and _Punnagas_, with blossoming _Karnikaras_, and _Dhavas_ and _Plakshas_, and with streams haunted by waterfowls of every kind, and abounding in crested summits, O sacred one! O best of mountains! O thou of wondrous sight! O celebrated hill! O refuge (of the distressed)! O highly auspicious one! I bow to thee, O pillar of the earth! Approaching, I bow to thee. Know me for a king's daughter, and a king's daughter-in-law, and king's consort, Damayanti by name that lord of earth who ruleth the Vidarbhas, that mighty warrior-king Bhima by name, who protecteth the four orders, is my sire. That best of kings celebrated the _Rajasuya_ and _Aswamedha_ sacrifices, with profuse gifts to the Brahmanas. Possessed of beautiful and large eyes, distinguished for devotion to the Vedas, of unblemished character, truth-telling, devoid of guile, gentle, endued with prowess, lord of immense wealth, versed in morality, and pure, he having vanquished all his foes, effectually protecteth the inhabitants of Vidarbha. Know me, O holy one, for his daughter, thus come to thee. That best of men--the celebrated ruler of the Nishadha--known by the name of Virasena of high fame, was my father-in-law. The son of that king, heroic and handsome and possessed of energy incapable of being baffled, who ruleth well the kingdom which hath descended to him from his father, is named Nala. Know, O mountain, that of that slayer of foes, called also _Punyastoka_, possessed of the complexion of gold, and devoted to the Brahmanas, and versed in the Vedas, and gifted with eloquence,--of that righteous and _Soma_-quaffing and fire-adoring king, who celebrateth sacrifices and is liberal and warlike and who adequately chastiseth (criminals), I am the innocent spouse--the chief of his queens--standing before thee. Despoiled of prosperity and deprived of (the company of my) husband without a protector, and afflicted with calamity, hither have I come, O best of mountains, seeking my husband. Hast thou, O foremost of mountains, with thy hundreds of peaks towering (into the sky) seen king Nala in this frightful forest? Hast thou seen my husband, that ruler of the Nishadhas, the illustrious Nala, with the tread of a mighty elephant, endued with intelligence, long-armed, and of fiery energy, possessed of prowess and patience and courage and high fame? Seeing me bewailing alone, overwhelmed with sorrow, wherefore, O best of mountains, dost thou not today soothe me with thy voice, as thy own daughter in distress? O hero, O warrior of prowess, O thou versed in every duty, O thou adhering to truth--O lord of the earth, if thou art in this forest, then, O king, reveal thyself unto me. Oh, when shall I again hear the voice of Nala, gentle and deep as that of the clouds, that voice, sweet as _Amrita_, of the illustrious king, calling me _Vidharva's daughter_, with accents distinct, and holy, and musical as the chanting of the Vedas and rich, and soothing all my sorrows. O king, I am frightened. Do thou, O virtuous one, comfort me." "'Having addressed that foremost of mountain thus, Damayanti then went in a northerly direction. And having proceeded three days and nights, that best of women came to an incomparable penance grove of ascetics, resembling in beauty a celestial grove. And the charming asylum she beheld was inhabited and adorned by ascetics like Vasishtha and Bhrigu and Atri, self-denying and strict in diet, with minds under control, endued with holiness, some living on water, some on air, and some on (fallen) leaves, with passions in check, eminently blessed, seeking the way to heaven, clad in barks of trees and deer-skins, and with senses subdued. And beholding that hermitage inhabited by ascetics, and abounding in herds of deer and monkeys, Damayanti was cheered. And that best of women, the innocent and blessed Damayanti, with graceful eye-brows, and long tresses, with lovely hips and deep bosom, and face graced with fine teeth and with fine black and large eyes, in her brightness and glory entered that asylum. And saluting those ascetics grown old in practising austerities, she stood in an attitude of humility. And the ascetics living in that forest, said, _Welcome!_ And those men of ascetic wealth, paying her due homage, said, "Sit ye down, and tell us what we may do for thee." That best of women replied unto them, saying, "Ye sinless and eminently blessed ascetics, is it well with your austerities, and sacrificial fire, and religious observances, and the duties of your own order? And is it well with the beasts and birds of this asylum?" And they answered, "O beauteous and illustrious lady, prosperity attendeth us in every respect. But, O thou of faultless limbs, tell us who thou art, and what thou seekest. Beholding thy beauteous form and thy bright splendour, we have been amazed. Cheer up and mourn not. Tell us, O blameless and blessed one, art thou the presiding deity of this forest, or of this mountain, or of this river?" Damayanti replied unto those ascetics, saying, "O Brahmanas, I am not the goddess of this forest, or of this mountain, or of this stream. O Rishis of ascetic wealth, know that I am a human being. I will relate my history in detail. Do ye listen to me. There is a king--the mighty ruler of the Vidarbhas--Bhima by name. O foremost of regenerate ones, know me to be his daughter. The wise ruler of the Nishadhas, Nala by name, of great celebrity, heroic, and ever victorious in battle, and learned, is my husband. Engaged in the worship of the gods, devoted to the twice-born ones, the guardian of the line of the Nishadhas, of mighty energy, possessed of great strength, truthful, conversant with all duties, wise, unwavering in promise, the crusher of foes, devout, serving the gods, graceful, the conqueror of hostile towns, that foremost of kings, Nala by name, equal in splendour unto the lord of celestials, the slayer of foes, possessed of large eyes, and a hue resembling the full moon, is my husband. The celebrator of great sacrifices, versed in the Vedas and their branches, the destroyer of enemies in battle, and like unto the sun and the moon in splendour, is he. That king devoted to faith and religion was summoned to dice by certain deceitful persons of mean mind and uncultured soul and of crooked ways, and skilful in gambling, and was deprived of wealth and kingdom. Know that I am the wife of that bull among kings, known to all by the name of Damayanti, anxious to find out my (missing) lord. In sadness of heart am I wandering among woods, and mountains, and lakes, and rivers, and tanks and forests, in search of that husband of mine--Nala, skilled in battle, high-souled, and well-versed in the use of weapons. O hath king Nala, the lord of the Nishadhas, come to this delightful asylum of your holy selves? It is for him, O Brahmanas, that I have come to this dreary forest full of terrors and haunted by tigers and other beasts. If I do not see king Nala within a few days and nights, I shall seek my good by renouncing this body. Of what use is my life without that bull among men? How shall I live afflicted with grief on account of my husband?" "'Unto Bhima's daughter, Damayanti, lamenting forlorn in that forest, the truth-telling ascetics replied, saying, "O blessed and beauteous one, we see by ascetic power that the future will bring happiness to thee, and that thou wilt soon behold Naishadha. O daughter of Bhima, thou wilt behold Nala, the lord of the Nishadhas, the slayer of foes, and the foremost of the virtuous freed from distress. And O blessed lady, thou wilt behold the king--thy lord--freed from all sins and decked with all kinds of gems, and ruling the selfsame city, and chastising his enemies, and striking terror into the hearts of foes, and gladdening the hearts of friends, and crowned with every blessing." "'Having spoken unto that princess--the beloved queen of Nala--the ascetics with their sacred fires and asylum vanished from sight. And beholding that mighty wonder, the daughter-in-law of king Virasena, Damayanti of faultless limbs, was struck with amazement. And she asked herself, "Was it a dream that I saw? What an occurrence hath taken place! Where are all those ascetics? And where is that asylum? Where, further, is that delightful river of sacred waters--the resort of diverse kinds of fowls? And where, again, are those charming trees decked with fruits and flowers?" And after thinking so for some time, Bhima's daughter, Damayanti of sweet smiles melancholy and afflicted with grief on account of her lord, lost the colour of her face (again). And going to another part of the wood, she saw an _Asoka_ tree. And approaching that first of trees in the forest, so charming with blossoms and its load of foliage, and resounding with the notes of birds, Damayanti, with tears in her eyes and accents choked in grief, began to lament, saying, "Oh, this graceful tree in the heart of the forest, decked in flowers, looketh beautiful, like a charming king of hills. O beauteous _Asoka_, do thou speedily free me from grief. Hast thou seen king Nala, the slayer of foes and the beloved husband of Damayanti,--freed from fear and grief and obstacles? Hast thou seen my beloved husband, the ruler of the Nishadhas, clad in half a piece of cloth, with delicate skin, that hero afflicted with woe and who hath come into this wilderness? O _Asoka_ tree, do thou free me from grief! O _Asoka_, vindicate thy name, for _Asoka_ meaneth _destroyer of grief_." And going round that tree thrice, with an afflicted heart, that best of women, Bhima's daughter, entered a more terrible part of the forest. And wandering in quest of her lord, Bhima's daughter beheld many trees and streams and delightful mountains, and many beasts and birds, and caves, and precipices, and many rivers of wonderful appearance. And as she proceeded she came upon a broad way where she saw with wonder a body of merchants, with their horses and elephants, landing on the banks of a river, full of clear and cool water, and lovely and charming to behold, and broad, and covered with bushes of canes, and echoing with the cries of cranes and ospreys and _Chakravakas_, and abounding in tortoises and alligators and fishes, and studded with innumerable islets. And as soon as she saw that caravan, the beauteous and celebrated wife of Nala, wild like a maniac, oppressed with grief, clad in half a garment, lean and pale and smutted, and with hair covered with dust, drew near and entered into its midst. And beholding her, some fled in fear, and some became extremely anxious, and some cried aloud, and some laughed at her, and some hated her. And some, O Bharata, felt pity for, and even addressed, her, saying, "O blessed one, who art thou, and whose? What seekest thou in woods? Seeing thee here we have been terrified. Art thou human? Tell us truly, O blessed one if thou art the goddess of this wood or of this mountain or of the points of the heaven. We seek thy protection. Art thou a female _Yaksha_, or a female _Rakshasa_, or a celestial damsel? O thou of faultless features, do thou bless us wholly and protect us. And, O blessed one, do thou so act that this caravan may soon go hence in prosperity and that the welfare of all of us may be secured." Thus addressed by that caravan, the princess Damayanti, devoted to her husband and oppressed by the calamity that had befallen her, answered, saying, "O leader of the caravan, ye merchants, ye youths, old men, and children, and ye that compose this caravan, know me for a human being. I am the daughter of a king, and the daughter in-law of a king, and the consort also of a king, eager for the sight of my lord. The ruler of the Vidarbhas is my father, and my husband is the lord of the Nishadhas, named Nala. Even now I am seeking that unvanquished and blessed one. If ye have chanced to see my beloved one, king Nala, that tiger among men, that destroyer of hostile hosts, O tell me quick." Thereupon the leader of that great caravan, named Suchi, replied unto Damayanti of faultless limbs, saying, "O blessed one, listen to my words. O thou of sweet smiles, I am a merchant and the leader of this caravan. O illustrious lady, I have not seen any man of the name of Nala. In this extensive forest uninhabited by men, there are only elephants and leopards and buffaloes, and tigers and bears and other animals. Except thee, I have not met with any man or woman here, so help us now Manibhadra, the king of Yakshas!" Thus addressed by them she asked those merchants as well as the leader of the host saying, "It behoveth you to tell me whither this caravan is bound." The leader of the band said, "O daughter of a great king, for the purpose of profit this caravan is bound direct for the city of Suvahu, the truth-telling ruler of the Chedis."'" SECTION LXV "Vrihadaswa said, 'Having heard the words of the leader of that caravan, Damayanti of faultless limbs proceeded with that caravan itself anxious to behold her lord. And after having proceeded for many days the merchants saw a large lake fragrant with lotuses in the midst of that dense and terrible forest. And it was beautiful all over, and exceedingly delightful, (with banks) abounding in grass and fuel and fruits and flowers. And it was inhabited by various kinds of fowls and birds, and full of water that was pure and sweet. And it was cool and capable of captivating the heart. And the caravan, worn out with toil, resolved to halt there. And with the permission of their leader, they spread themselves around those beautiful woods. And that mighty caravan finding it was evening halted at that place. And (it came to pass that) at the hour of midnight when everything was hushed and still and the tired caravan had fallen asleep, a herd of elephants in going towards a mountain stream to drink of its water befouled by their temporal juice, saw that caravan as also the numerous elephants belonging to it. And seeing their domesticated fellows the wild elephants infuriated and with the temporal juice trickling down rushed impetuously on the former, with the intention of killing them. And the force of the rush of those elephants was hard to bear, like the impetuosity of peaks lessened from mountain summits rolling towards the plain. The rushing elephants found the forest paths to be all blocked up, for the goodly caravan was sleeping obstructing the paths around that lake of lotuses. And the elephants all of a sudden, began to crush the men lying insensible on the ground. And uttering cries of "_Oh!_" and "_Alas!_" the merchants, blinded by sleep, fled, in order to escape that danger, to copses and woods for refuge. And some were slain by the tusks, and some by the trunks, and some by the legs of those elephants. And innumerable camels and horses were killed, and crowds of men on foot, running in fright, killed one another. And uttering loud cries some fell down on the ground, and some in fear climbed on trees, and some dropped down on uneven ground. And, O king, thus accidentally attacked by that large herd of elephants, that goodly caravan suffered a great loss. And there arose a tremendous uproar calculated to frighten the three worlds, "Lo! a great fire hath broken out. Rescue us. Do ye speedily fly away. Why do ye fly? Take the heaps of jewels scattered around. All this wealth is a trifle. I do not speak falsely, I tell you again, (exclaimed some one) think on my words, O ye distracted one!" With such exclamation they ran about in fright. And Damayanti awoke in fear and anxiety, while that terrible slaughter was raging there. And beholding slaughter capable of awaking the fear of all the worlds, and which was so unforeseen, the damsel of eyes like lotus leaves rose up, wild with fright, and almost out of breath. And those of the caravan that had escaped unhurt, met together, and asked one another, "Of what deed of ours is this the consequence? Surely, we have failed to worship the illustrious Manibhadras, and likewise the exalted and graceful Vaisravana, the king of the Yaksha. Perhaps, we have not worshipped the deities that cause calamities, or perhaps, we have not paid them the first homage. Or, perhaps, this evil is the certain consequence of the birds (we saw). Our stars are not unpropitious. From what other cause, then hath this disaster come?" Others, distressed and bereft of wealth and relatives, said, "That maniac-like woman who came amongst this mighty caravan in guise that was strange and scarcely human, alas, it is by her that this dreadful illusion had been pre-arranged. Of a certainty, she is a terrible Rakshasa or a Yaksha or a Pisacha woman. All this evil is her work, what need of doubts? If we again see that wicked destroyer of merchants, that giver of innumerable woes, we shall certainly slay that injurer of ours, with stones, and dust, and grass, and wood, and cuffs." And hearing these dreadful words of the merchants, Damayanti, in terror and shame and anxiety, fled into the woods apprehensive of evil. And reproaching herself she said, "Alas! fierce and great is the wrath of God on me. Peace followeth not in my track. Of what misdeed is this the consequence? I do not remember that I did ever so little a wrong to any one in thought, word, or deed. Of what deed, then, is this the consequence? Certainly, it is on account of the great sins I had committed in a former life that such calamity hath befallen me, _viz_., the loss of my husband's kingdom, his defeat at the hands of his own kinsmen, this separation from my lord and my son and daughter, this my unprotected state, and my presence in this forest abounding in innumerable beasts of prey!" "'The next day, O king, the remnant of that caravan left the place bewailing the destruction that had overtaken them and lamenting for their dead brothers and fathers and sons and friends. And the princess of Vidarbha began to lament, saying, "Alas! What misdeed have I perpetrated! The crowd of men that I obtained in this lone forest, hath been destroyed by a herd of elephants, surely as a consequence of my ill luck. Without doubt, I shall have to suffer misery for a long time. I have heard from old men that no person dieth ere his time; it is for this that my miserable self hath not been trodden to death by that herd of elephants. Nothing that befalleth men is due to anything else than Destiny, for even in my childhood I did not commit any such sin in thought, word, or deed, whence might come this calamity. Methinks, I suffer this severance from my husband through the potency of those celestial _Lokapalas_, who had come to the Swayamvara but whom I disregarded for the sake of Nala." Bewailing thus, O tiger among kings, that excellent lady, Damayanti, devoted to her husband, went, oppressed with grief and (pale) as the autumnal moon, with those Brahmanas versed in the Vedas that had survived the slaughter of the caravan. And departing speedily, towards evening, the damsel came to the mighty city of the truth-telling Suvahu, the king of the Chedis. And she entered that excellent city clad in half a garment. And the citizens saw her as she went, overcome with fear, and lean, melancholy, her hair dishevelled and soiled with dust, and maniac-like. And beholding her enter the city of the king of the Chedis, the boys of the city, from curiosity, began to follow her. And surrounded by them, she came before the palace of the king. And from the terrace the queen-mother saw her surrounded by the crowd. And she said to her nurse, "Go and bring that woman before me. She is forlorn and is being vexed by the crowd. She hath fallen into distress and standeth in need of succour. I find her beauty to be such that it illumineth my house. The fair one, though looking like a maniac, seemeth a very _Sree_ with her large eyes." Thus commanded, the nurse went out and dispersing the crowd brought Damayanti to that graceful terrace. And struck with wonder, O king, she asked Damayanti, saying, "Afflicted though thou art with such distress, thou ownest a beautiful form. Thou shinest like lightning in the midst of the clouds. Tell me who thou art, and whose, O thou possessed of celestial splendour, surely, thy beauty is not human, bereft though thou art of ornaments. And although thou art helpless, yet thou art unmoved under the outrage of these men." Hearing these words of the nurse, the daughter of Bhima said, "Know that I am a female belonging to the human species and devoted to my husband. I am a serving woman of good lineage. I live wherever I like, subsisting on fruit and roots, and whom a companion, and stay where evening overtaketh me. My husband is the owner of countless virtues and was ever devoted to me. And I also, on my part, was deeply attached to him, following him like his shadow. It chanced that once he became desperately engaged at dice. Defeated at dice, he came alone into the forest. I accompanied my husband into the woods, comforting the hero clad in a single piece of cloth and maniac-like and overwhelmed with calamity. Once on a time for some cause, that hero, afflicted with hunger and thirst and grief, was forced to abandon that sole piece of covering in the forest. Destitute of garment and maniac-like and deprived of his senses as he was, I followed him, myself in a single garment. Following him, I did not sleep for nights together. Thus passed many days, until at last while I was sleeping, he cut off half of my cloth, and forsook me who had done him no wrong. I am seeking my husband but unable to find him who is of hue like the filaments of the lotus, without being able to cast my eyes on that delight of my heart, that dear lord who owneth my heart and resembleth the celestials in mien, day and night do I burn in grief." "'Unto Bhima's daughter thus lamenting with tearful eyes, and afflicted and speaking in accents choked in grief, the queen-mother herself said, "O blessed damsel, do thou stay with me. I am well pleased with thee. O fair lady, my men shall search for thy husband. Or, perhaps he may come here of his own accord in course of his wanderings. And, O beautiful lady, residing here thou wilt regain thy (lost) lord." Hearing these words of the queen mother, Damayanti replied, "O mother of heroes, I may stay with thee on certain conditions. I shall not eat the leavings on any dish, nor shall I wash anybody's feet, nor shall I have to speak with other men. And if anybody shall seek me (as a wife or mistress) he should be liable to punishment at thy hands. And, further, should he solicit me over and over again, that wicked one should be punished with death. This is the vow I have made. I intend to have an interview with those Brahmanas that will set out to search for my husband. If thou canst do all this, I shall certainly live with thee. If it is otherwise, I cannot find it in my heart to reside with thee." The queen-mother answered her with a glad heart, saying, "I will do all this. Thou hast done well in adopting such a vow!"' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'O king, having spoken so unto the daughter of Bhima, the queen-mother, O Bharata, said to her daughter named Sunanda, "O Sunanda, accept this lady like a goddess as thy _Sairindhri_! Let her be thy companion, as she is of the same age with thee. Do thou, with heart free from care, always sport with her in joy." And Sunanda cheerfully accepted Damayanti and led her to her own apartment accompanied by her associates. And treated with respect, Damayanti was satisfied, and she continued to reside there without anxiety of any kind, for all her wishes were duly gratified.'" SECTION LXVI "Vrihadaswa said, 'O monarch, having deserted Damayanti, king Nala saw a mighty conflagration that was raging in that dense forest. And in the midst of that conflagration, he heard the voice of some creature, repeatedly crying aloud, "O righteous Nala, come hither." And answering, "Fear not," he entered into the midst of the fire and beheld a mighty _Naga_ lying in coils. And the Naga with joined hands, and trembling, spake unto Nala, saying, "O king, I am a snake, Karkotaka by name. I had deceived the great Rishi Narada of high ascetic merit, and by him have I been cursed in wrath, O king of men, even in words such as these: 'Stay thou here like an immobile thing, until one Nala taketh thee hence. And, indeed, on the spot to which he will carry thee, there shalt thou be freed from my curse.' It is for that curse of his that I am unable to stir one step. I will instruct thee in respect of thy welfare. It behoveth thee to deliver me. I will be thy friend. There is no snake equal to me. I will be light in thy hands. Taking me up, do thou speedily go hence." Having said this, that prince of snakes became as small as the thumb. And taking him up, Nala went to a spot free from fire. Having reached an open spot where there was no fire, Nala intended to drop the serpent, upon which Karkotaka again addressed him, saying, "O king of the Nishadhas, proceed thou yet, counting a few steps of thine; meanwhile, O mighty-armed one, I will do thee great good." And as Nala began to count his steps, the snake bit him at the tenth step. And, lo! As he was bit, his form speedily underwent a change. And beholding his change of form, Nala was amazed. And the king saw the snake also assume his own form. And the snake Karkotaka, comforting Nala, spake unto him, "I have deprived thee of thy beauty, so that people may not recognise thee. And, O Nala, he by whom thou hast been deceived and cast into distress, shall dwell in thee tortured by my venom. And, O monarch, as long as he doth not leave thee, he will have to dwell in pain in thy body with thine every limb filled with my venom. And, O ruler of men I have saved from the hands of him who from anger and hate deceived thee, perfectly innocent though thou art and undeserving of wrong. And, O tiger among men, through my grace, thou shalt have (no longer) any fear from animals with fangs, from enemies, and from Brahmanas also versed in the Vedas, O king! Nor shalt thou, O monarch, feel pain on account of my poison. And, O foremost of kings, thou shalt be ever victorious in battle. This very day, O prince, O lord of Nishadhas, go to the delightful city of Ayodhya, and present thyself before Rituparna skilled in gambling, saying, '_I am a charioteer, Vahuka by name_.' And that king will give thee his skill in dice for thy knowledge of horses. Sprung from the line of Ikswaku, and possessed of prosperity, he will be thy friend. When thou wilt be an adept at dice, thou shalt then have prosperity. Thou wilt also meet with thy wife and thy children, and regain thy kingdom. I tell thee this truly. Therefore, let not thy mind be occupied by sorrow. And, O lord of men, when thou shouldst desire to behold thy proper form, thou shouldst remember me, and wear this garment. Upon wearing this, thou shalt get back thy own form." And saying this, that Naga then gave unto Nala two pieces of celestial cloth. And, O son of the Kuru race, having thus instructed Nala, and presented him with the attire, the king of snakes, O monarch, made himself invisible there and then!'" SECTION LXVII "Vrihadaswa said, 'After the snake had vanished, Nala, the ruler of the Nishadhas, proceeded, and on the tenth day entered the city of Rituparna. And he approached the king, saying, "My name is Vahuka. There is no one in this world equal to me in managing steeds. My counsel also should be sought in matters of difficulty and in all affairs of skill. I also surpass others in the art of cooking. In all those arts that exist in this world, and also in every thing difficult of accomplishment, I will strive to attain success, O Rituparna, do thou maintain me." And Rituparna replied, "O Vahuka, stay with me! May good happen to thee. Thou wilt even perform all this. I have always particularly desired to be driven fast. Do thou concert such measures that my steeds may become fleet. I appoint thee the superintendent of my stables. Thy pay shall be ten thousand (coins). Both Varshneya and Jivala shall always be under thy direction. Thou wilt live pleasantly in their company. Therefore, O Vahuka, stay thou with me."' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Thus addressed by the king, Nala began to dwell in the city of Rituparna, treated with respect and with Varshneya and Jivala as his companions. And residing there, the king (Nala), remembering the princess of Vidarbha, recited every evening the following _sloka_: "_Where lieth that helpless one afflicted with hunger and thirst and worn with toil, thinking of that wretch? And upon whom also doth she now wait?_" And once as the king was reciting this in the night, Jivala asked him saying, "O Vahuka, whom dost thou lament thus daily? I am curious to hear it. O thou blest with length of days, whose spouse is she whom thus lamentest?" Thus questioned, king Nala answered him, saying, "A certain person devoid of sense had a wife well-known to many. That wretch was false in his promises. For some reason that wicked person was separated from her. Separated from her, that wretch wandered about oppressed with woe, and burning with grief he resteth not by day or night. And at night, remembering her, he singeth this _sloka_. Having wandered over the entire world, he hath at last found a refuge, and undeserving of the distress that hath befallen him, passeth his days, thus remembering his wife. When calamity had overtaken this man, his wife followed him into the woods. Deserted by that man of little virtue, her life itself is in danger. Alone, without knowledge of ways, ill able to bear distress, and fainting with hunger and thirst, the girl can hardly protect her life. And, O friend, she hath been deserted by that man of small fortune and having little sense, with the wide and terrible forest, ever abounding in beasts of prey." "'Thus remembering Damayanti, the king of the Nishadhas continued to live unknown in the abode of that monarch!'" SECTION LXVIII "Vrihadaswa said, 'After Nala, despoiled of his kingdom, had, with his wife, become a bondsman, Bhima with the desire of seeing Nala sent out Brahmanas to search for him. And giving them profuse wealth, Bhima enjoined on them, saying, "Do ye search for Nala, and also for my daughter Damayanti. He who achieveth this task, _viz_., ascertaining where the ruler of the Nishadhas is, bringeth him and my daughter hither, will obtain from me a thousand kine, and fields, and a village resembling a town. Even if failing to bring Damayanti and Nala here, he that succeeds learning their whereabouts, will get from me the wealth represented by a thousand kine." Thus addressed, the Brahmanas cheerfully went out in all directions seeking Nala and his wife in cities and provinces. But Nala or his spouse they found not anywhere. Until at length searching in the beautiful city of the Chedis, a Brahmana named Sudeva, during the time of the king's prayers, saw the princess of Vidarbha in the palace of the king, seated with Sunanda. And her incomparable beauty was slightly perceptible, like the brightness of a fire enveloped in curls of smoke. And beholding that lady of large eyes, soiled and emaciated he decided her to be Damayanti, coming to that conclusion from various reasons. And Sudeva said, "As I saw her before, this damsel is even so at present. O, I am blest, by casting my eyes on this fair one, like _Sree_ herself delighting the worlds! Resembling the full moon, of unchanging youth, of well-rounded breasts, illumining all sides by her splendour, possessed of large eyes like beautiful lotuses, like unto Kama's Rati herself the delight of all the worlds like the rays of the full moon, O, she looketh like a lotus-stalk transplanted by adverse fortune from the Vidarbha lake and covered with mire in the process. And oppressed with grief on account of her husband, and melancholy, she looketh like the night of the full moon when Rahu hath swallowed that luminary, or like a stream whose current hath dried up. Her plight is very much like that of a ravaged lake with the leaves of its lotuses crushed by the trunks of elephants, and with its birds and fowls affrighted by the invasion. Indeed, this girl, of a delicate frame and of lovely limbs, and deserving to dwell in a mansion decked with gems, is (now) like an uprooted lotus-stalk scorched by the sun. Endued with beauty and generosity of nature, and destitute of ornaments, though deserving of them, she looketh like the moon 'new bent in heaven' but covered with black clouds. Destitute of comforts and luxuries, separated from loved ones and friends, she liveth in distress, supported by the hope of beholding her lord. Verily, the husband is the best ornament of a woman, however destitute of ornaments. Without her husband beside her, this lady, though beautiful, shineth not. It is a hard feat achieved by Nala in that he liveth without succumbing to grief, though separated from such a wife. Beholding this damsel possessed of black hair and of eyes like lotus-leaves, in woe though deserving of bliss, even my heart is pained. Alas! when shall this girl graced with auspicious marks and devoted to her husband, crossing this ocean of woe, regain the company of her lord, like Rohini regaining the Moon's? Surely, the king of the Nishadhas will experience in regaining her the delight that a king deprived of his kingdom experienceth in regaining his kingdom. Equal to her in nature and age and extraction, Nala deserveth the daughter of Vidarbha, and this damsel of black eyes also deserveth him. It behoveth me to comfort the queen of that hero of immeasurable prowess and endued with energy and might, (since) she is so eager to meet her husband. I will console this afflicted girl of face like the full moon, and suffering distress that she had never before endured, and ever meditating on her lord."' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Having thus reflected on these various circumstances and signs, the Brahmana, Sudeva, approached Damayanti, and addressed her, saying, "O princess of Vidarbha, I am Sudeva, the dear friend of thy brother. I have come here, seeking thee, at the desire of king Bhima. Thy father is well, and also thy mother, and thy brothers. And thy son and daughter, blessed with length of days, are living in peace. Thy relatives, though alive, are almost dead on thy account, and hundreds of Brahmanas are ranging the world in search of thee."' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'O Yudhishthira, Damayanti recognising Sudeva, asked him respecting all her relatives and kinsmen one after another. And, O monarch, oppressed with grief, the princess of Vidarbha began to weep bitterly, at the unexpected sight of Sudeva, that foremost of Brahmanas and the friend of her brother. And, O Bharata, beholding Damayanti weeping, and conversing in private with Sudeva, Sunanda was distressed, and going to her mother informed her, saying, "_Sairindhri_ is weeping bitterly in the presence of a Brahmana. If thou likest, satisfy thyself." And thereupon the mother of the king of the Chedis, issuing from the inner apartments of the palace, came to the place where the girl (Damayanti) was with that Brahmana. Then calling Sudeva, O king, the queen-mother asked him, "Whose wife is this fair one, and whose daughter? How hath this lady of beautiful eyes been deprived of the company of her relatives and of her husband as well? And how also hast thou come to know this lady fallen into such a plight? I wish to hear all this in detail from thee. Do truly relate unto me who am asking thee about this damsel of celestial beauty." Then, O king, thus addressed by the queen-mother, Sudeva, that best of Brahmanas, sat at his ease, and began to relate the true history of Damayanti.'" SECTION LXIX "'Sudeva said, "There is a virtuous and illustrious ruler of the Vidarbhas, Bhima by name. This blessed lady is his daughter, and widely known by the name of Damayanti. And there is a king ruling the Nishadhas, named Nala, the son of Virasena. This blessed lady is the wife of that wise and righteous monarch. Defeated at dice by his brother, and despoiled of his kingdom, that king, accompanied by Damayanti, went away without the knowledge of any one. We have been wandering over the whole earth in search of Damayanti. And that girl is at last found in the house of thy son. No woman existeth that is her rival in beauty. Between the eye-brows of this ever-youthful damsel, there is an excellent mole from birth, resembling a lotus. Noticed by us (before) it seems to have disappeared, covered, (as her forehead is) with (a coat of) dust even like the moon hid in clouds. Placed there by the Creator himself as an indication of prosperity and wealth, that mole is visible faintly, like the cloud-covered lunar crescent of the first day of the lighted fortnight. And covered as her body is with dust, her beauty hath not disappeared. Though careless of her person, it is still manifest, and shineth like gold. And this girl--goddess-like--capable of being identified by this form of hers and that mole, hath been discovered by me as one discovereth a fire that is covered, by its heat!" "'O king, hearing these words of Sudeva, Sunanda washed the dust that covered the mole between Damayanti's eye-brows. And thereupon it became visible like the moon in the sky, just emerged from the clouds. And seeing that mole, O Bharata, Sunanda and the queen-mother began to weep, and embracing Damayanti stood silent for a while. And the queen-mother, shedding tears as she spoke, said in gentle accents, "By this thy mole, I find that thou art the daughter of my sister. O beauteous girl, thy mother and I are both daughters of the high-souled Sudaman, the ruler of the Dasarnas. She was bestowed upon king Bhima, and I on Viravahu. I witnessed thy birth at our father's palace in the country of the Dasarnas. O beautiful one, my house is to thee even as thy father's. And this wealth, O Damayanti, is thine as much as mine." At this, O king, Damayanti bowing down to her mother's sister with a glad heart, spake unto her these words, "Unrecognised, I have still lived happily with thee, every want of mine satisfied and myself cared for by thee. And happy as my stay hath been, it would, without doubt, be happier still. But, mother, I have long been an exile. It behoveth thee, therefore, to grant me permission (to depart). My son and daughter, sent to my father's palace, are living there. Deprived of their father, and of their mother also, how are they passing their days stricken with sorrow. If thou wishest to do what is agreeable to me, do thou without loss of time, order a vehicle, for I wish to go to the Vidarbhas." At this, O king, the sister to (Damayanti's) mother, with a glad heart, said, "_So be it._" And the queen-mother with her son's permission, O chief of the Bharatas, sent Damayanti in handsome litter carried by men, protected by a large escort and provided with food and drink and garments of the first quality. And soon enough she reached the country of the Vidarbhas. And all her relatives, rejoicing (in her arrival) received her with respect. And seeing her relatives, her children, both her parents, and all her maids, to be well, the illustrious Damayanti, O king, worshipped the gods and Brahmanas according to the superior method. And the king rejoiced at beholding his daughter, and gave unto Sudeva a thousand kine and much wealth and a village. And, O king, having spent that night at her father's mansion and recovered from fatigue, Damayanti addressed her mother, saying, "O mother, if thou wishest me to live, I tell thee truly, do thou endeavour to bring Nala, that hero among men." Thus addressed by Damayanti, the venerable queen became filled with sorrow. And bathed in tears, she was unable to give any answer. And beholding her in that plight, all the inmates of the inner apartments broke out into exclamation of "_Oh!_" and "_Alas!_" and began to cry bitterly. And then the queen addressed the mighty monarch Bhima, saying, "Thy daughter Damayanti mourneth on account of her husband. Nay, banishing away all bashfulness, she hath herself, O king, declared her mind to me. Let thy men strive to find out (Nala) the righteous." Thus informed by her the king sent the Brahmanas under him in all directions, saying, "Exert ye to discover Nala." And those Brahmanas, commanded by the ruler of the Vidarbhas (to seek Nala) appeared before Damayanti and told her of the journey they were about to undertake. And Bhima's daughter spake unto them saying, "Do ye cry in every realm and in every assembly, 'O beloved gambler, where hast thou gone cutting off half of my garment, and deserting the dear and devoted wife asleep in the forest? And that girl, as commanded by thee stayeth expecting thee, clad in half a piece of cloth and burning with grief! O king, O hero, relent towards, and answer, her who incessantly weepeth for that grief.' This and more ye will say, so that he may be inclined to pity me. Assisted by the wind, fire consumeth the forest. (Further, ye will say that) 'the wife is always to be protected and maintained by the husband. Why then, good as thou art and acquainted with every duty, hast thou neglected both thy duties? Possessed of fame and wisdom, and lineage, and kindness, why hast thou be unkind? I fear, this is owing to the loss of my good luck! Therefore, O tiger among men, have pity on me. O bull among men! I have heard it from thee that kindness is the highest virtue.' Speaking so, if anybody answereth you, that person should by all means, be known, and ye should learn who he is, and where he dwelleth. And ye foremost of regenerate ones, do ye bring me the words of him who hearing this your speech will chance to answer. Ye should also act with such care that no one may know the words ye utter to be at my command, nor that ye will come back to me. And ye should also learn whether that answers is wealthy, or poor, or destitute of power, in fact all about him." "'Thus instructed by Damayanti, O king, the Brahmanas set out in all directions in search of Nala overtaken with such disaster. And the Brahmanas, O king, searched for him in cities and kingdoms and villages, and retreats of ascetics, and places inhabited by cow-herds. And, O monarch, wherever they went they recited the speeches that Damayanti had directed them to do.'" SECTION LXX "Vrihadaswa said, 'After a long time had passed away, a Brahmana named Parnada returned to the city (of the Vidarbhas), and said unto the daughter of Bhima, "O Damayanti, seeking Nala, the king of Nishaidhas, I came to the city of Ayodhya, and appeared before the son of Bhangasura. And, O best of women, I repeated those words of thine in the presence of the blessed Rituparna. But hearing them neither that ruler of men, nor his courtiers, answered anything, although I uttered them repeatedly. Then, after I had been dismissed by the monarch, I was accosted by a person in the service of Rituparna, named Vahuka. And Vahuka is the charioteer of that king, of unsightly appearance and possessed of short arms. And he is skillful in driving with speed, and well acquainted with the culinary art. And sighing frequently, and weeping again and again, he inquired about my welfare and afterwards said these words, 'Chaste women, although fallen into distress, yet protect themselves and thus certainly secure heaven. Although they may be deserted by their lords, they do not yet become angry on that account, for women that are chaste lead their lives, encased in the armour of virtuous behaviour. It behoveth her not to be angry, since he that deserted her was overwhelmed with calamity, and deprived of every bliss. A beautious and virtuous woman should not be angry with one that was deprived by birds of his garment while striving to procure sustenance and who is being consumed with grief. Whether treated well or ill, such a wife should never indulge in ire, beholding her husband in that plight, despoiled of kingdom and destitute of prosperity, oppressed with hunger and overwhelmed with calamity.' Hearing these words of his, I have speedily come here. Thou hast now heard all. Do what thou thinkest proper, and inform the king of it." "'O king, having heard these words of Parnada, Damayanti with tearful eyes came to her mother, and spake unto her in private, "O mother, king Bhima should not, by any means, be made acquainted with my purpose. In thy presence will I employ that best of Brahmanas, Sudeva! If thou desirest my welfare, act in such a way that king Bhima may not know my purpose. Let Sudeva without delay go hence to the city of Ayodhya, for the purpose of bringing Nala, O mother, having performed the same auspicious rites by virtue of which he had speedily brought me into the midst of friends." With these words, after Parnada had recovered from fatigue, the princess of Vidarbha worshipped him with profuse wealth and also said, "When Nala will come here, O Brahmana, I will bestow on thee wealth in abundance again. Thou hast done me the immense service which none else, indeed, can do me, for, (owing to that service of thine), O thou best of the regenerate ones, I shall speedily regain my (lost) lord." And thus addressed by Damayanti, that high-minded Brahmana comforted her, uttering benedictory words of auspicious import, and then went home, regarding his mission to have been successful. And after he had gone away, Damayanti oppressed with grief and distress, calling Sudeva, addressed him, O Yudhishthira, in the presence of her mother, saying, "O Sudeva, go thou to the city of Ayodhya, straight as a bird, and tell king Rituparna living there, these words: 'Bhima's daughter, Damayanti will hold another _Swayamvara_. All the kings and princes are going thither. Calculating the time, I find that the ceremony will take place tomorrow. O represser of foes, if it is possible for thee, go thither without delay. Tomorrow, after the sun hath risen, she will choose a second husband, as she doth not know whether the heroic Nala liveth or not.'" And addressed by her, O monarch thus, Sudeva set out. And he said unto Rituparna, all that he had been directed to say.'" SECTION LXXI "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Having heard the words of Sudeva king Rituparna, soothing Vahuka with gentle words, said, "O Vahuka, thou art well-skilled in training and guiding horses. If it pleases thee, I intend to go to Damayanti's _Swayamvara_ in course of a single day." Thus addressed, O son of Kunti, by that king, Nala felt his heart to be bursting in grief. And the high-souled king seemed to burn in sorrow. And he thought within himself, "Perhaps Damayanti in doing this is blinded by sorrow. Or, perhaps, she hath conceived this magnificent scheme for my sake. Alas, cruel is the deed that the innocent princess of Vidarbha intends to do, having been deceived by my sinful and low self of little sense. It is seen in the world that the nature of woman is inconstant. My offence also hath been great; perhaps she is acting so, because she hath no longer any love for me owing to my separation from her. Indeed, that girl of slender waist, afflicted with grief on my account and with despair, will not certainly do anything of the kind, when especially, she is the mother of offspring (by me). However whether this is true or false, I shall ascertain with certitude by going thither. I will, therefore, accomplish Rituparna's and my own purpose also." Having resolved thus in his mind, Vahuka, with his heart in sorrow, spake unto king Rituparna, with joined hands, saying, "O monarch, I bow to thy behest, and, O tiger among men, I will go to the city of the Vidarbhas in a single day, O king!" Then, O monarch, at the command of the royal son of Bhangasura, Vahuka went to the stables and began to examine the horses. And repeatedly urged by Rituparna to make haste, Vahuka after much scrutiny and careful deliberation, selected some steeds that were lean-fleshed, yet strong and capable of a long journey and endued with energy and strength of high breed and docility, free from inauspicious marks, with wide nostrils and swelling cheeks, free from faults as regards the ten hairy curls, born in (the country of) Sindhu, and fleet as the winds. And seeing those horses, the king said somewhat angrily, "What is this, that thou wishest to do? Thou shouldst not jest with us. How can these horses of mine, weak in strength and breath, carry us? And how shall we be able to go this long way by help of these?" Vahuka replied, "Each of these horses bears one curl on his forehead, two on his temples, four on his sides, four on his chest, and one on his back. Without doubt, these steeds will be able to go to the country of the Vidarbhas. If, O king, thou thinkest of choosing others, point them out and I shall yoke them for thee." Rituparna rejoined, "O Vahuka, thou art versed in the science of horses and art also skillful (in guiding them). Do thou speedily yoke those that thou thinkest to be able." Thereupon the skillful Nala yoked upon the car four excellent steeds of good breed that were, besides, docile and fleet. And after the steeds had been yoked, the king without loss of time mounted upon the car, when those best of horses fell down upon the ground on their knees. Then, O king, that foremost of men, the blessed king Nala began to soothe horses endued with energy and strength. And raising them up with the reins and making the charioteer Varshneya sit on the car, he prepared to set out with great speed. And those best of steeds, duly urged by Vahuka, rose to the sky, confounding the occupant of the vehicle. And beholding those steeds gifted with the speed of the wind thus drawing the car, the blessed king of Ayodhaya was exceedingly amazed. And noticing the rattle of the car and also the management of the steeds, Varshneya reflected upon Vahuka's skill in guiding horses. And he thought, "Is he Matali, the charioteer of the king of the celestials? I find the same magnificent indications in the heroic Vahuka. Or, hath Salihotra versed in the science of horses taken this human shape so beautiful? Or, is it king Nala the reducer of hostile towns that hath come here? Or, it may be that this Vahuka knoweth the science that Nala knoweth, for I perceive that the knowledge of Vahuka is equal to that of Nala. Further, Vahuka and Nala are of the same age. This one, again, may not be Nala of high prowess, but somebody of equal knowledge. Illustrious persons, however, walk this earth in disguise in consequence of misfortune, or agreeably to the ordinance of the scriptures. That this person is of unsightly appearance need not change my opinion; for Nala, I think, may even be despoiled of his personal features. In respect of age this one equals Nala. There is difference, however, in personal appearance. Vahuka, again is endued with every accomplishment. I think, therefore, he is Nala." Having thus reasoned long in his mind, O mighty monarch, Varshneya, the (former) charioteer of the righteous Nala, became absorbed in thought. And that foremost of kings Rituparna, also, beholding the skill of Vahuka in equestrian science experienced great delight, along with his charioteer Varshneya. And thinking of Vahuka's application and ardour and the manner of his holding the reins, the king felt exceedingly glad.'" SECTION LXXII "Vrihadaswa said, 'Like a bird coursing through the sky, Nala soon crossed rivers and mountains, and woods and lakes. And while the car was coursing thus, that conqueror of hostile cities, the royal son of Bhangasura, saw his upper garment drop down on the ground. And at soon as his garment had dropped down the high-minded monarch, without loss of time, told Nala, "I intend to recover it. O thou of profound intelligence, retain these steeds endued with exceeding swiftness until Varshneya bringeth back my garment." Thereupon Nala replied unto him, "The sheet is dropped down far away. We have travelled one _yojana_ thence. Therefore, it is incapable of being recovered." After Nala had addressed him thus, O king, the royal son of Bhangasura came upon a _Vibhitaka_ tree with fruits in a forest. And seeing that tree, the king hastily said to Vahuka, "O charioteer, do thou also behold my high proficiency in calculation. All men do not know everything. There is no one that is versed in every science of art. Knowledge in its entirety is not found in any one person. O Vahuka, the leaves and fruits of this tree that are lying on the ground respectively exceed those that are on it by one hundred and one. The two branches of the tree have fifty millions of leaves, and two thousand and ninety five fruits. Do thou examine these two branches and all their boughs." Thereupon staying the car Vahuka addressed the king, saying, "O crusher of foes, thou takest credit to thyself in a matter which is beyond my perception. But, O monarch, I will ascertain it by the direct evidence of my senses, by cutting down the _Vibhitaka_. O king, when I actually count, it will no longer be matter of speculation. Therefore, in thy presence, O monarch, I will hew down this _Vibhitaka_. I do not know whether it be not (as thou hast said). In thy presence, O ruler of men, I will count the fruits and leaves. Let Varshneya hold the reins of the horses for a while." Unto the charioteer the king replied, "There is no time to lose." But Vahuka answered with humility, "Stay thou a short space, or, if thou art in a hurry, go then, making Varshneya thy charioteer. The road lies direct and even." And at this, O son of the Kuru race, soothing Vahuka, Rituparna said, "O Vahuka, thou art the only charioteer, there is none other in this world. And, O thou versed in horse lore, it is through thy help that I expect to go to the Vidarbhas. I place myself in thy hands. It behoveth thee not to cause any obstacle. And, O Vahuka, whatever thy wish. I will grant it if taking me to the country of the Vidarbhas to-day, thou makest me see the sun rise." At this, Vahuka answered him, saying, "After having counted (the leaves and fruits of the) _Vibhitaka_, I shall proceed to Vidarbha, do thou agree to my words." Then the king reluctantly told him, "Count. And on counting the leaves and fruits of a portion of this branch, thou wilt be satisfied of the truth of my assertion." And thereupon Vahuka speedily alighted from the car, and felled that tree. And struck with amazement upon finding the fruits, after calculation, to be what the king had said, he addressed the king, saying, "O monarch, this thy power is wonderful. I desire, O prince, to know the art by which thou hast ascertained all this." And at this the king, intent upon proceeding speedily, said unto Vahuka, "Know that I am proficient at dice besides being versed in numbers." And Vahuka said unto him, "Impart unto me this knowledge and, O bull among men, take from me my knowledge of horses." And king Rituparna, having regard to the importance of the act that depended upon Vahuka's good-will, and tempted also by the horse-lore (that his charioteer possessed), said, "So be it. As solicited by thee, receive this science of dice from me, and, O Vahuka, let my equine science remain with thee in trust." And saying this, Rituparna imparted unto Nala the science (he desired). And Nala upon becoming acquainted with the science of dice, Kali came out of his body, incessantly vomiting from his mouth the virulent poison of Karkotaka. And when Kali, afflicted (by Damayanti's curse) came out (of Nala's body), the fire of that curse also left Kali. Indeed, long had been the time for which the king had been afflicted by Kali, as if he were of unregenerate soul. And Nala the ruler of the Nishadhas, in wrath, was bent upon cursing Kali, when the latter, frightened, and trembling, said with joined hands, "Control thy wrath, O king! I will render thee illustrious. Indrasena's mother had formerly cursed me in anger when she had been deserted by thee. Ever since that time undergoing sore affliction I resided in thee, O mighty monarch, O unconquered one, miserably and burning night and day with the venom of the prince of snakes. I seek thy protection. If thou dost not curse me who am affrighted and seek thy protection, then those men that will attentively recite thy history, shall be even free from fear on my account." And thus addressed by Kali, king Nala controlled his wrath. And thereupon the frightened Kali speedily entered into the _Vibhitaka_ tree. And while the Kali was conversing with Naishadha, he was invisible to others. And delivered from his afflictions, and having counted the fruits of that tree, the king, filled with great joy and of high energy, mounted on the car and proceeded with energy, urging those fleet horses. And from the touch of Kali the _Vibhitaka_ tree from that hour fell into disrepute. And Nala, with a glad heart, began to urge those foremost of steeds which sprang into the air once and again like creatures endued with wings. And the illustrious monarch drove (the car) in the direction of the Vidarbhas. And after Nala had gone far away, Kali also returned to his abode. And abandoned by Kali, O king, that lord of earth, the royal Nala, became freed from calamity though he did not assume his native form.'" SECTION LXXIII "Vrihadaswa said, 'After Rituparna of prowess incapable of being baffled had, in the evening, arrived at the city of the Vidarbhas, the people brought unto king Bhima the tidings (of his arrival). And at the invitation of Bhima, the king (of Ayodhya) entered the city of Kundina, filling with the rattle of his car all the ten points, direct and transverse, of the horizon. And the steeds of Nala that were in that city heard that sound, and hearing it they became delighted as they used to be in the presence of Nala himself. And Damayanti also heard the sound of that car driven by Nala, like the deep roar of the clouds in the rainy season. And Bhima and the steeds (of Nala) regarded the clatter of that car to be like that which they used to hear in days of yore when king Nala himself urged his own steeds. And the peacocks on the terraces, and the elephants in the stables, and the horses also, all heard the rattle of Rituparna's car. And hearing the sound, so like the roar of the clouds, the elephants and the peacocks, O king, began to utter their cries, facing that direction, and filled with delight such as they experience when they hear the actual roar of the clouds. And Damayanti said, "Because the rattle of his car filling the whole earth, gladdens my heart, it must be King Nala (that has come). If I do not see Nala, of face bright as the moon, that hero with countless virtues, I shall certainly die. If I am not clasped today in that hero's thrilling embrace, I shall certainly cease to be. If Naishadha with voice deep as that of the clouds doth not come to me today, I shall enter into a pyre of golden brilliance. If that foremost of kings, powerful as a lion and gifted with the strength of an infuriated elephant, doth not present himself before me, I shall certainly cease to live. I do not remember a single untruth in him, or a single wrong done by him to others. Never hath he spoken an untruth even in jest. Oh, my Nala is exalted and forgiving and heroic and magnificent and superior to all other kings, and faithful to his marriage vow and like unto a eunuch in respect of other females. Night and day dwelling upon his perceptions, my heart, in absence of that dear one, is about to burst in grief." "'Thus bewailing as if devoid of sense, Damayanti, O Bharata, ascended the terrace (of her mansion) with the desire of seeing the righteous Nala. And in the yard of the central mansion she beheld king Rituparna on the car with Varshneya and Vahuka. And Varshneya and Vahuka, descending for that excellent vehicle, unyoked the steeds, and kept the vehicle itself in a proper place. And king Rituparna also, descending from the car, presented himself before king Bhima possessed of terrible prowess. And Bhima received him with great respect, for in the absence of a proper occasion, a great person cannot be had (as a guest). And honoured by Bhima, king Rituparna looked about him again and again, but saw no traces of the _Swayamvara_. And the ruler of the Vidarbhas, O Bharata, approaching Rituparna, said, "Welcome! What is the occasion of this thy visit?" And king Bhima asked this without knowing that Rituparna had come to obtain the hand of his daughter. And king Rituparna, of unbaffled prowess and gifted with intelligence, saw that there were no other kings or princes. Nor did he hear any talk relating to the _Swayamvara_, nor saw any concourse of Brahmanas. And at this, the king of Kosala reflected a while and at length said, "I have come here to pay my respects to thee." And the king Bhima was struck with astonishment, and reflected upon the (probable) cause of Rituparna's coming, having passed over a hundred _yojanas_. And he reflected, "That passing by other sovereigns, and leaving behind him innumerable countries, he should come simply to pay his respect to me is scarcely the reason of his arrival. What he assigneth to be the cause of his coming appeareth to be a trifle. However, I shall learn the true reason in the future." And although king Bhima thought so, he did not dismiss Rituparna summarily, but said unto him again and again, "Rest, thou art weary." And honoured thus by the pleased Bhima, king Rituparna was satisfied, and with a delighted heart, he went to his appointed quarters followed by the servants of the royal household.' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'And, O king, after Rituparna had gone away with Varshneya, Vahuka took the car to the stables. And there freeing the steeds, and tending them according to rule, and soothing them himself, sat down on a side of the car. Meanwhile, the princess of Vidharbha, Damayanti, afflicted with grief, having beheld the royal son of Bhangasura, and Varshneya of the _Suta_ race, and also Vahuka in that guise, asked herself, "Whose is this car-rattle? It was loud as that of Nala, but I do not see the ruler of the Nishadhas. Certainly, Varshneya hath learnt the art from Nala, and it is for this the rattle of the car driven by him hath been even like that of Nala. Or, is Rituparna equally skilled with Nala so that the rattle of his car seemeth to be like that of Nala?" And reflecting thus, O monarch, the blessed and beauteous girl sent a female messenger in search of Nishada.'" SECTION LXXIV "'Damayanti said, "O Kesini, go thou and learn who that charioteer is that sitteth by the car, unsightly and possessed of short arms. O blessed one, O faultless one, approaching him, cautiously and with sweet words, make thou the usual inquiries of courtesy and learn all particulars truly. Having regard to the feeling of satisfaction my mind experienceth, and the delight my heart feeleth, I am greatly afraid this one is king Nala himself. And, O faultless one, having inquired after his welfare, thou shalt speak unto him the words of Parnada. And, O beauteous one, understand the reply he may make thereto." Thus instructed, that female messenger, going cautiously, while the blessed Damayanti watched from the terrace, addressed Vahuka in these words, "O foremost of men, thou art welcome. I wish thee happiness. O bull among men, hear now the words of Damayanti. When did ye all set out, and with what object have ye come hither. Tell us truly, for the princess of Vidarbha wisheth to hear it." Thus addressed, Vahuka answered, "the illustrious king of Kosala had heard from a Brahmana that a second _Swayamvara_ of Damayanti would take place. And hearing it, he hath come here, by the help of excellent steeds fleet as the wind and capable of going a hundred _yojanas_. I am his charioteer." Kesini then asked, "Whence doth the third among you come, and whose (son) is he? And whose son art thou, and how hast thou come to do this work?" Thus questioned, Vahuka replied, "He (of whom thou inquirest) was the charioteer of the virtuous Nala, and known to all by the name of Varshneya. After Nala had, O beauteous one, left his kingdom, he came to the son of Bhangasura. I am skilled in horse-lore, and have, therefore, been appointed as charioteer. Indeed, king Rituparna hath himself chosen me as his charioteer and cook." At this Kesini rejoined, "Perhaps Varshneya knoweth where king Nala hath gone, and O Vahuka, he may also have spoken to thee (about his master)." Vahuka then said, "Having brought hither the children of Nala of excellent deeds, Varshneya went away whither he listed: He doth not know where Naishadha is. Nor, O illustrious one, doth anybody else know of Nala's whereabouts; for the king (in calamity) wandereth over the world in disguise and despoiled of (his native) beauty. Nala's self only knoweth Nala. Nala never discovereth his marks of identity anywhere." Thus addressed, Kesini returned, "The Brahmana that had before this gone to Ayodhya, had repeatedly said these words suitable to female lips, 'O beloved gambler, where hast thou gone cutting off half my piece of cloth, and deserting me, his dear and devoted wife asleep in the woods? And she herself, as commanded by him, waiteth expecting him clad in half a garment and burning day and night in grief. O king, O hero, do thou relent towards her that weepeth ceaselessly for that calamity and do thou give her an answer. O illustrious one, do thou speak the words agreeable to her for the blameless one panteth to hear them.' Hearing these words of the Brahmana thou didst formerly give a reply! The princess of Vidarbha again wisheth to hear the words thou didst then say."' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'O son of the Kuru race, hearing these words of Kesini, Nala's heart was pained, and his eyes filled with tears. And repressing his sorrow, the king who was burning in grief, said again these words, in accents choked with tears: "Chaste women, though overtaken by calamity, yet protect themselves, and thereby secure heaven. Women that are chaste, deserted by their lords, never become angry, but continue to live, cased in virtue's mail. Deserted by one fallen into calamity, bereft of sense, and despoiled of bliss, it behoveth her not to be angry. A virtuous lady should not be angry with one that was deprived by birds of his garment while striving to procure sustenance and who is burning in misery. Whether treated well or ill she would never be angry, seeing her husband in that plight, despoiled of his kingdom, bereft of prosperity, oppressed with hunger, and overwhelmed with calamity." And, O Bharata, while speaking thus, Nala oppressed with grief, could not restrain his tears, but began to weep. And thereupon Kesini went back to Damayanti, and acquainted her with everything about that conversation as well as that outburst of grief.'" SECTION LXXV "Vrihadaswa said, 'Hearing everything, Damayanti became oppressed with grief, and suspecting the person to be Nala, said unto Kesini, "O Kesini, go thou again, and examine Vahuka, and staying in silence at his side mark thou his conduct. And, O beauteous one, whenever he happens to do anything skilful, do thou observe well his act while accomplishing it. And, O Kesini, whenever he may ask water or fire, with the view of offering him obstruction, thou shalt be in no hurry to give it. And marking everything about his behaviour, come thou and tell me. And whatever human or super-human thou seest in Vahuka, together with anything else, should all be reported unto me." And thus addressed by Damayanti, Kesini went away, and having marked the conduct of that person versed in horse-lore, she came back. And she related unto Damayanti all that had happened, indeed, everything of human and superhuman that she had witnessed in Vahuka. And Kesini said, "O Damayanti, a person of such control over the elements I have never before seen or heard of. Whenever he cometh to low passage, he never stoopeth down, but seeing him, the passage itself groweth in height so that he may pass through it easily. And at his approach, impassable narrow holes open wide. King Bhima had sent various kinds of meat--of diverse animals, for Rituparna's food. And many vessels had been placed there for washing the meat. And as he looked upon them, those vessels became filled (with water). And having washed the meat, as he set himself to cook, he took up a handful of grass and held it in the sun, when fire blazed up all on a sudden. Beholding this marvel, I have come hither amazed. Further, I have witnessed in him another great wonder. O beauteous one, he touched fire and was not burnt. And at his will, water falling floweth in a stream. And, I have witnessed another greater wonder still. He took up some flowers, began to press them slowly with his hands. And pressed by his hand, the flowers did not lose their original forms, but, on the contrary, became gayer and more odorous than before. Having beheld wonderful things I have come hither with speed."' "Vrihadaswa continued, 'Hearing of these acts of the virtuous Nala, and discovering him from his behaviour, Damayanti considered him as already recovered. And from these indications suspecting that Vahuka was her husband, Damayanti once more weepingly addressed Kesini in soft words, saying, "O beauteous one, go thou once more, and bring from the kitchen without Vahuka's knowledge some meat that hath been boiled and dressed (by him)." Thus commanded, Kesini, ever bent on doing what was agreeable to Damayanti, went to Vahuka, and taking some hot meat came back without loss of time. And Kesini gave that meat, O son of the Kuru race, unto Damayanti. And Damayanti who had formerly often partaken of meat dressed by Nala, tasted the meat that was brought by her hand-maid. And she thereupon decided Vahuka to be Nala and wept aloud in grief of heart. And, O Bharata, overwhelmed with grief, and washing her face, she sent her two children with Kesini. And Vahuka, who was the king in disguise, recognising Indrasena with her brother, advanced hastily, and embracing them, took them up on his lap. And taking up his children like unto the children of the celestials, he began to weep aloud in sonorous accents, his heart oppressed with great sorrow. And after having repeatedly betrayed his agitation, Naishadha suddenly left children, and addressed Kesini, saying, "O fair damsel, these twins are very like my own children. Beholding them unexpectedly, I shed tears. If thou comest to me frequently people may think evil, for we are guests from another land. Therefore. O blessed one, go at thy ease."'" SECTION LXXVI "Vrihadaswa said, 'Beholding the agitation of the virtuous and wise Nala, Kesini returned unto Damayanti and related everything unto her. And thereupon Damayanti with a sorrowful heart and eager to behold Nala, again despatched Kesini to her mother, asking her to say on her behalf: "Suspecting Vahuka to be Nala, I have tried him in various ways. My doubt now only relates to his appearance. I intend to examine him myself. O mother, either let him enter the palace, or give me permission to go to him. And arrange this with the knowledge of my father or without it." And thus addressed to Damayanti, that lady communicated unto Bhima the intention of his daughter, and upon learning it the king gave his consent. And, O bull of the Bharata race, having obtained the consent both of her father and mother, Damayanti caused Nala to be brought to her apartments. And as soon as he saw Damayanti unexpectedly, king Nala was overwhelmed with grief and sorrow, and bathed in tears. And that best of women, Damayanti, also, upon beholding king Nala in that condition, was sorely afflicted with grief. And, O monarch, herself clad in a piece of red cloth, and wearing matted locks, and covered with dirt and dust, Damayanti then addressed Vahuka, saying, "O Vahuka, hast thou ever seen any person acquainted with duty, who hath gone away, deserting his sleeping wife in the forest? Who, except the virtuous Nala, could go away, deserting in the woods, his dear and unoffending wife overcome with fatigue? Of what offence was I guilty in the eyes of that monarch since my early youth that he should go away deserting me in the woods while asleep overcome with fatigue? Why should he whom I formerly chose in preference to the gods themselves abandon his ever-devoted and loving wife who had become the mother also of his children? Before the fire, and in presence also of the celestials, he had taken my hand, vowing, '_Verily I will be thine_.' Oh, where was that vow when he deserted me, O represser of foes." While Damayanti was saying all this, tears of sorrow began to flow plentifully from her eyes. And beholding her thus afflicted with grief, Nala also, shedding tears, black of those of the gazelle with extremities of reddish hue, said, "O timid one, neither the loss of my kingdom nor my desertion of thee was my act. Both were due to Kali. And, O foremost of virtuous women, lamenting for me day and night, and overcome with sorrow, thou hadst in the woods cursed Kali, and so he began to dwell in my body, burning in consequence of thy curse. Indeed burning with thy curse, he lived within me like fire within fire. O blessed girl, that our sorrows might terminate, that wretch have I overcome by my observances and austerities. The sinful wretch hath already left me, and it is for this that I have come hither. My presence here, O fair lady, is for thy sake. I have no other object. But, O timid one, can any other woman, forsaking her loving and devoted husband, ever choose a second lord like thee? At the command of the king, messengers are ranging this entire earth, saying, '_Bhima's daughter will, of her own accord, choose a second husband worthy of her_.' Immediately on hearing this, the son of Bhangasura hath arrived here." Hearing these lamentations of Nala, Damayanti, frightened and trembling, said with joined hand, "It behoveth thee not, O blessed one, to suspect any fault in me. O ruler of the Nishadhas, passing over the celestials themselves, I choose thee as my lord. It was to bring thee hither that the Brahmanas had gone out in all directions, even to all the sides of the horizon, singing my words, in the form of ballads. At last, O king, a learned Brahmana named Parnada had found thee in Kosala in the palace of Rituparna. When thou hadst returned a fit answer to those words of his, it was then, O Naishadha, that I devised this scheme to recover thee. Except thee, O lord of earth, there is no one in this world, who in one day can clear, O King, a hundred _yojanas_ with horses. O monarch, touching thy feet I can swear truly that I have not, even in thought, committed any sin. May the all-witnessing Air that courseth through this world, take my life, if I have committed any sin. May the Sun that ever courseth through the sky take my life, if I have committed any sin. May the Moon, that dwelleth within every creature as a witness, take my life, if I have committed any sin. Let the three gods that sustain the triple worlds in their entirety, declare truly, or let them forsake me today." And thus addressed by her, the Wind-god said from the sky, "O Nala, I tell thee truly that she hath done no wrong. O king, Damayanti, well guarding the honour of thy family, hath enhanced it. Of this we are the witnesses, as we have been her protectors for these three years. It is for thy good that she hath devised this unrivalled scheme, for, except thee, none on earth is capable of travelling in a single day a hundred _yojanas_. O monarch, thou hast obtained Bhima's daughter, and she hath also obtained thee. Thou needst not entertain any suspicion but be united with thy partner." And after the Wind-god had said this, a floral shower fell there and the celestial kettle-drum began to play, and auspicious breezes began to blow. And beholding those wonders, O Bharata, king Nala, the represser of foes, cast away all his doubts in respect of Damayanti. And then that lord of earth, remembering the king of serpents, wore that pure garment and regained his native form. And beholding her righteous lord in his own form, Bhima's daughter of faultless limbs embraced him, and began to weep aloud. And king Nala also embraced Bhima's daughter devoted to him, as before, and also his children, and experienced great delight. And burying her face in his bosom, the beauteous Damayanti of large eyes began to sigh heavily, remembering her griefs. And overwhelmed with sorrow, that tiger among men stood for some time, clasping the dust-covered Damayanti of sweet smiles. And, O king, the queen-mother then, with a glad heart, told Bhima all that had passed between Nala and Damayanti. And the mighty monarch answered, "Let Nala pass this day in peace, to-morrow I shall see him after his bath and prayers, with Damayanti by his side." And, O king, they passed that night pleasantly, in relating to each other the past incidents of their life in the forest. And with hearts filled with joy, the princess of Vidarbha and Nala began to pass their days in the palace of king Bhima, intent upon making each other happy. And it was in the fourth year (after the loss of his kingdom) that Nala was re-united with his wife, and all his desires gratified, once more experienced the highest bliss. And Damayanti rejoiced exceedingly in having recovered her lord even as fields of tender plants on receiving a shower. And Bhima's daughter, thus recovering her lord, obtained her wish, and blazed forth in beauty, her weariness gone, her anxieties dispelled and herself swelling with joy, ever like a night that is lit by the bright disc of the moon!'" SECTION LXXVII "Vrihadaswa said, 'Having passed that night, king Nala decked in ornaments and with Damayanti by his side, presented himself in due time before the king. And Nala saluted his father-in-law with becoming humility and after him the fair Damayanti paid her respects to her father. And the exalted Bhima, with great joy, received him as a son, and honouring him duly along with his devoted wife, comforted them in proper words. And duly accepting the homage rendered unto him, king Nala offered his father-in-law his services as became him. And seeing Nala arrived, the citizens were in great joy. And there arose in the city a loud uproar of delight. And the citizens decorated the city with flags and standards and garlands of flowers. And the streets were watered and decked in floral wreaths and other ornaments. And at their gates citizens piled flowers, and their temples and shrines were all adorned with flowers. And Rituparna heard that Vahuka had already been united with Damayanti. And the king was glad to hear of all this. And calling unto him king Nala, he asked his forgiveness. And the intelligent Nala also asked Rituparna's forgiveness, showing diverse reasons. And that foremost of speakers versed in the truth, king Rituparna, after being thus honoured by Nala, said, with a countenance expressive of wonder, these words unto the ruler of the Nishadhas. "By good fortune it is that regaining the company of thy own wife, thou hast obtained happiness. O Naishadha, while dwelling in disguise at my house, I hope I did not wrong thee in any way, O lord of the earth! If knowingly I have done thee any wrong, it behoveth thee to forgive me." Hearing this, Nala replied, "Thou hast not, O monarch, done me ever so little an injury. And if thou hast, it hath not awakened my ire, for surely thou shouldst be forgiven by me. Thou wert formerly my friend, and, O ruler of men, thou art also related to me. Henceforth I shall find greater delight in thee. O king, with all my desires gratified, I lived happily in thy abode, in fact more happily there than in my own house. This thy horse-lore is in my keeping. If thou wishest, O king, I will make it over to thee." Saying this, Naishadha gave unto Rituparna that science and the latter took it with the ordained rites. And, O monarch, the royal son of Bhangasura, having obtained the mysteries of equestrian science and having given unto the ruler of the Naishadhas the mysteries of dice, went to his own city, employing another person for his charioteer. And, O king, after Rituparna had gone, king Nala did not stay long in the city of Kundina!'" SECTION LXXVIII "Vrihadaswa said, 'O son of Kunti, the ruler of the Nishadhas having dwelt there for a month, set out from that city with Bhima's permission and accompanied by only a few (followers) for the country of the Nishadhas. With a single car white in hue, sixteen elephants, fifty horses, and six hundred infantry, that illustrious king, causing the earth itself to tremble, entered (the country of the Nishadhas) without loss of a moment and swelling with rage. And the mighty son of Virasena, approaching his brother Pushkara said unto him, "We will play again, for I have earned vast wealth. Let Damayanti and all else that I have be my stake, let, O Pushkara, thy kingdom be thy stake. Let the play begin again. This is my certain determination. Blessed be thou, let us stake all we have along with our lives. Having won over and acquired another's wealth or kingdom, it is a high duty, says the ordinance, to stake it when the owner demands. Or, if thou dost not relish play with dice, let the play with weapons begin. O king, let me or thyself have peace by a single combat. That this ancestral kingdom should, under all circumstances and by any means, be recovered, there is the authority of sages for holding. And, O Pushkara, choose thou one of these two things--gambling with dice or bending the bow in battle!" Thus addressed by Nishadha, Pushkara, sure of his own success, laughingly answered that monarch, saying, "O Naishadha, it is by good fortune that thou hast earned wealth again to stake. It is by good fortune also that Damayanti's ill-luck hath at last come to an end. And O king, it is by good fortune that thou art still alive with thy wife, O thou of mighty arms! It is evident that Damayanti, adorned with this wealth of thine that I will win, will wait upon me like an Apsara in heaven upon Indra. O Naishadha, I daily recollect thee and am even waiting for thee, since I derive no pleasure from gambling with those that are not connected with me by blood. Winning over to-day the beauteous Damayanti of faultless features, I shall regard myself fortunate, indeed, since she it is that hath ever dwelt in my heart." Hearing these words of that incoherent braggart, Nala in anger desired to cut off his head with a scimitar. With a smile, however, though his eyes were red in anger, king Nala said, "Let us play. Why do you speak so now? Having vanquished me, you can say anything you like." Then the play commenced between Pushkara and Nala. And blessed be Nala who at a single throw won his wealth and treasures back along with the life of his brother that also had been staked. And the king, having won, smilingly said unto Pushkara, "This whole kingdom without a thorn in its side is now undisturbedly mine. And, O worst of kings, thou canst not now even look at the princess of Vidarbha. With all thy family, thou art now, O fool, reduced to the position of her slave. But my former defeat at thy hands was not due to any act of thine. Thou knowest it not, O fool, that it was Kali who did it all. I shall not, therefore, impute to thee the faults of others. Live happily as thou choosest, I grant thee thy life. I also grant thee thy portion (in the paternal kingdom) along with all necessaries. And, O hero, without doubt, my affection towards thee is now the same as before. My fraternal love also for thee will never know any diminution. O Pushkara, thou art my brother, live thou for a hundred years!" "'And Nala of unbaffled prowess, having comforted his brother thus gave him permission to go to his own town, having embraced him repeatedly. And Pushkara himself, thus comforted by the ruler of the Nishadhas saluted that righteous king, and addressed him, O monarch, saying these words with joined hands, "Let thy fame be immortal and live thou happily for ten thousand years, thou who grantest me, O king, both life and refuge." And entertained by the king, Pushkara dwelt there for a month and then went to his own town accompanied by large force and many obedient servants and his own kindred, his heart filled with joy. And that bull among men all the while blazed forth in beauty of person like a second Sun. And the blessed ruler of the Nishadhas, having established Pushkara and made him wealthy and freed him from troubles, entered his richly decorated palace. And the ruler of the Nishadhas, having entered his palace, comforted the citizens. And all the citizens and the subjects from the country horripilated in joy. And the people headed by the officers of state said with joined hands, "O king, we are truly glad to-day throughout the city and the country. We have obtained to-day our ruler, like the gods their chief of a hundred sacrifice!"'" SECTION LXXIX "Vrihadaswa said, 'After the festivities had commenced in the city that was full of joy and without anxiety of any kind, the king with a large force brought Damayanti (from her father's home). And her father, too, that slayer of hostile heroes, Bhima of terrible prowess and immeasurable soul, sent his daughter, having honoured her duly. And upon the arrival of the princess of Vidarbha accompanied by her son and daughter, king Nala began to pass his days in joy like the chief of the celestials in the gardens of Nandana. And the king of undying fame, having regained his kingdom and becoming illustrious among monarchs of the island of Jamvu, began once more to rule it. And he duly performed numerous sacrifices with abundant gifts to Brahmanas. O great king, thou also wilt with thy kindred and relatives, so blaze forth in effulgence soon. For, O foremost of men, it was thus that subjugator of hostile cities, king Nala, had fallen into distress along with his wife, in consequence, O bull of Bharata race, of dice. And, O lord of the earth, Nala suffered such dire woe all alone and recovered his prosperity, whereas thou, O son of Pandu, with heart fixed on virtue, art sporting in joy in this great forest, accompanied by thy brothers and Krishna. When thou art also, O monarch, mixing daily with blessed Brahmanas versed in the Vedas and their branches, thou hast little cause for sorrow. This history, besides, of the Naga Karkotaka, of Damayanti, of Nala and of that royal sage Rituparna, is destructive of evil. And, O thou of unfading glory, this history, destructive of the influence of Kali, is capable, O king, of comforting persons like thee when they listen to it. And reflecting upon the uncertainty (of success) of human exertion, it behoveth thee not to joy or grieve at prosperity or adversity. Having listened to this history, be comforted, O king, and yield not to grief. It behoveth thee not, O great king, to pine under calamity. Indeed, men of self-possession, reflecting upon the caprice of destiny and the fruitlessness of exertion, never suffer themselves to be depressed. They that will repeatedly recite this noble history of Nala, and that will hear it recited, will never be touched by adversity. He that listeneth to this old and excellent history hath all his purposes crowned with success and, without doubt, obtaineth fame, besides sons and grandsons and animals, a high position among men, and health, and joy. And, O king, the fear also that thou entertainest, _viz_., (_Some one skilled in dice will summon me_), I will for once dispel. O thou of invincible prowess, I know the science of dice in its entirety. I am gratified with thee; take this lore, O son of Kunti, I will tell unto thee.'" Vaisampayana continued, "King Yudhishthira then, with a glad heart, said unto Vrihadaswa, 'O illustrious one, I desire to learn the science of dice from thee.' The Rishi then gave his dice-lore unto the high-souled son of Pandu, and having given it unto him, that great ascetic went to the sacred waters of Hayasirsha for a bath. "And after Vrihadaswa had gone away, Yudhishthira of firm vows heard from Brahmanas and ascetics that came to him from various directions and from places of pilgrimage and mountains and forests that Arjuna of high intelligence and capable of drawing the bow with his left hand, was still engaged in the austerest of ascetic penances, living upon air alone. And he heard that the mighty-armed Partha was engaged in such fierce asceticism that none else before him had ever been engaged in such penances. And Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, engaged in ascetic austerities with regulated vows and fixed mind and observing the vow of perfect silence, was, he heard, like the blazing god of justice himself in his embodied form. And, O king, (Yudhishthira) the son of Pandu hearing that his dear brother Jaya, the son of Kunti, was engaged in such asceticism in the great forest, began to grieve for him. And with a heart burning in grief, the eldest son of Pandu, seeking consolation in that mighty forest held converse with the Brahmanas possessed of various knowledge who were living with him there." SECTION LXXX (Tirtha-yatra Parva) Janamejaya said, "O holy one, after my great-grandfather Partha had gone away from the woods of Kamyaka, what did the sons of Pandu do in the absence of that hero capable of drawing the bow with his left hand? It seemeth to me that mighty bowman and vanquisher of armies was their refuge, as Vishnu of the celestials. How did my heroic grandsires pass their time in the forest, deprived of the company of that hero, who resembled Indra himself in prowess and never turned his back in battle?" Vaisampayana said, "After Arjuna of unbaffled prowess had gone away from Kamyaka, the sons of Pandu, O son, were filled with sorrow and grief. And the Pandavas with cheerless hearts very much resembled pearls unstrung from a wreath, or birds shorn of their wings. And without that hero of white steeds that forest looked like the _Chaitraratha_ woods when deprived of the presence of Kuvera. And, O Janamejaya, those tigers among men--the sons of Pandu--deprived of the company of Arjuna, continued to live in Kamyaka in perfect cheerlessness. And, O chief of the Bharata race, those mighty warriors endowed with great prowess slew with pure arrows various kinds of sacrificial animals for the Brahmanas. And those tigers among men and repressers of foes, daily slaying those wild animals and sanctifying them properly, offered them unto the Brahmanas. And it was thus, O king, that those bulls among men afflicted with sorrow lived there with cheerless hearts after Dhananjaya's departure. The princess of Panchala in particular, remembering her third lord, addressed the anxious Yudhishthira and said, 'That Arjuna who with two hands rivals the thousand-armed Arjuna (of old), alas, without that foremost of the sons of Pandu, this forest doth not seem at all beautiful in my eyes. Without him, whenever I cast my eyes, this earth seems to be forlorn. Even this forest with its blossoming trees and so full of wonders, without Arjuna seems not so delightful as before. Without him who is like a mass of blue clouds (in hue), who hath the prowess of an infuriated elephant, and whose eyes are like the leaves of the lotus, this Kamyaka forest doth not seem beautiful to me. Remembering that hero capable of drawing the bow with his left hand, and the twang of whose bow sounds like the roar of thunder, I cannot feel any happiness, O king!' And, O monarch, hearing her lament in this strain, that slayer of hostile heroes, Bhimasena, addressed Draupadi in these words, 'O blessed lady of slender waist, the agreeable words thou utterest delight my heart like the quaffing of nectar. Without him whose arms are long and symmetrical, and stout and like unto a couple of iron maces and round and marked by the scars of the bow-strings and graced with the bow and sword and other weapons and encircled with golden bracelets and like unto a couple of five-headed snakes, without that tiger among men the sky itself seemeth to be without the sun. Without that mighty-armed one relying upon whom the Panchalas and the Kauravas fear not the sternly-exerting ranks of the celestials themselves, without that illustrious hero relying upon whose arms we all regard our foes as already vanquished and the earth itself as already conquered, without that Phalguna I cannot obtain any peace in the woods of Kamyaka. The different directions also, wherever I cast my eyes, appear to be empty!' "After Bhima had concluded, Nakula the son of Pandu, with voice choked with tears, said, 'Without him whose extraordinary deeds on the field of battle constitute the talk of even the gods, without that foremost of warriors, what pleasure can we have in the woods? Without him who having gone towards the north had vanquished mighty Gandharva chiefs by hundreds, and who having obtained numberless handsome horses of the Tittiri and Kalmasha species all endowed with the speed of the wind, presented them from affection unto his brother the king, on the occasion of the great Rajasuya sacrifice, without that dear and illustrious one, without that terrible warrior born after Bhima, without that hero equal unto a god I do not desire to live in the Kamyaka woods any longer.' "After Nakula's lamentations, Sahadeva said, 'He who having vanquished mighty warriors in battle won wealth and virgins and brought them unto the king on the occasion of the great _Rajasuya_ sacrifice, that hero of immeasurable splendour who having vanquished single-handed the assembled Yadavas in battle, ravished Subhadra with the consent of Vasudeva, he, who having invaded the dominion of the illustrious Drupada gave, O Bharata, unto the preceptor Drona his tuition fee--beholding, O king, that Jishnu's bed of grass empty in our asylum, my heart refuses consolation. A migration from this forest is what, O represser of foes, I would prefer for without that hero this forest cannot be delightful.'" SECTION LXXXI Vaisampayana said, "Hearing these words of his brothers as also of Krishna, all of whom were anxious on account of Dhananjaya, king Yudhishthira, the just, became melancholy. And at that time he saw (before him) the celestial Rishi Narada blazing with _Brahmi_ beauty and like unto a fire flaming up in consequence of sacrificial libation. And beholding him come, king Yudhishthira with his brothers stood up and duly worshipped the illustrious one. And endued with blazing energy, the handsome chief of the Kuru race, surrounded by his brothers, shone like the god of a hundred sacrifices encircled by the celestials. And Yajnaseni in obedience to the dictates of morality adhered to her lords, the sons of Pritha, like Savitri to the Vedas or the rays of the Sun to the peak of Meru. And the illustrious Rishi Narada, accepting that worship, comforted the son of Dharma in proper terms. And, O sinless one, addressing the high-souled king Yudhishthira, the just, the Rishi said, 'Tell me, O foremost of virtuous men, what it is that thou seekest and what I can do for thee.' At this, the royal son of Dharma bowing with his brothers unto Narada, who was the revered of the celestials, told him with joined hands, 'O thou that art highly blessed and worshipped by all the worlds when thou art gratified with me, I regard all my wishes in consequence of thy grace, as already fulfilled, O thou of excellent vows! If, O sinless one, I with my brothers deserve thy favour, it behoveth thee, O best of Munis, to dispel the doubt that is in my mind. It behoveth thee to tell me in detail what merit is his that goeth round the worlds, desirous of beholding the sacred waters and shrines that are on it.' "Narada said, 'Listen, O king, with attention, to what the intelligent Bhishma had heard before from Pulastya! Once, O blessed one, that foremost of virtuous men, Bhishma, while in the observance of the _Pitrya_ vow, lived, O king, in the company of Munis in a delightful and sacred region, near the source of the Ganga, that is resorted to by the celestial Rishis and Gandharvas and the celestials themselves. And while living there, the resplendent one gratified with his oblations the _Pitris_, the gods and the Rishis, according to the rites inculcated in the scriptures. And once on a time while the illustrious one was engaged in his silent recitations, he beheld Pulastya--that best of Rishis, of wonderful appearance. And beholding that austere ascetic blazing with beauty, he was filled with great delight and exceeding wonder. And, O Bharata, that foremost of virtuous men, Bhishma, then worshipped that blessed Rishi according to the rites of the ordinance. And purifying himself and with rapt attention, he approached that best of Brahmarshis, with the _Arghya_ on his head. And uttering aloud his name, he said, "O thou of excellent vow, blessed be thou, I am Bhishma, thy slave. At sight of thee, I am freed from all my sins." And saying this, that foremost of virtuous men, Bhishma, restraining speeches stood, O Yudhishthira, in silence and with joined hands. And beholding Bhishma that foremost of the Kurus, reduced and emaciated by the observance of vows and the study of the Vedas, the Muni became filled with joy.'" SECTION LXXXII "'Pulastya said, "O thou of excellent vows, I have been much gratified with thy humility, thy self-control, and thy truth, thou blessed one versed in morality! O sinless one, it is for this virtue of thine which thou hast acquired from regard to thy ancestors, that I have been gratified with thee and thou hast, O son, obtained a sight of my person. O Bhishma, my eyes can penetrate into everything. Tell me what I may do for thee. O sinless one, O thou foremost of the Kuru race, I will grant thee whatever thou mayst ask me." "'Bhishma said, "O highly blessed one, when thou who art worshipped by the three worlds hast been gratified with me and when I have obtained a sight of thy exalted self, I regard myself as already crowned with success. But, O thou foremost of virtuous persons, if I have deserved thy favour, I will tell thee my doubts and it behoveth thee to dispel them. O holy one, I have some religious doubts in respect of _tirthas_. Speak of those to me in detail, I desire to hear thee. O thou that resemblest a celestial himself, what is his merit, O regenerate Rishi, who goeth round the whole earth (visiting shrines). O tell me this with certainty." "'Pulastya said, "O son, listen with attention. I will tell thee of the merit which attacheth to _tirthas_ and which constituteth the refuge of the Rishis. He whose hands and feet and mind and knowledge and asceticism and acts are under wholesome control, enjoyeth the fruits of _tirthas_. He who has ceased to accept gifts, he that is contented, he that is free from pride enjoys the fruits of _tirthas_. He that is without sin, he that acts without purpose, he that eats light, he that has his senses under control, he that is free from every sin, enjoys the fruits of _tirthas_. O king, he that is free from anger, he that adhereth to truth, he that is firm in vows, he that regardeth all creatures as his own self, enjoyeth the fruits of _tirthas_. In the Vedas the Rishis have declared in due order the sacrifices and also their fruits here and hereafter truly. O lord of earth, those sacrifices cannot be accomplished by him that is poor, for those sacrifices require various materials and diverse things in large measures. These, therefore can be performed by kings or sometimes by other men of prosperity and wealth. O lord of men, that rite, however, which men without wealth, without allies, singly, without wife and children, and destitute of means, are capable of accomplishing and the merit of which is equal unto the sacred fruits of sacrifices, I will now declare unto thee, thou best of warriors! O thou best of the Bharata race, sojourns in _tirthas_ which are meritorious and which constitute one of the high mysteries of the Rishis, are even superior to sacrifices. He is a poor man who having gone to a _tirtha_ hath not fasted for three nights, who hath not given away gold, and who hath not distributed kine. Indeed, one acquireth not, by the performance of the _Agnishtoma_ and other sacrifices distinguished by large gifts, that merit which one requireth by a sojourn to a _tirtha_. In the world of men, there is that _tirtha_ of the God of gods, celebrated over the three worlds by the name of _Pushkara_. One that sojourneth there becometh equal unto that deity. O high-souled son of the Kuru race, during the two twilights and mid-day there is the presence of hundred thousand millions of _tirthas_ in _Pushkara_. The Adityas, the Vasus, the Rudras, the Sadhyas, the Maruts, the Gandharvas, and the Apsaras are ever present, O exalted one, in _Pushkara_. It was there, O king, that the gods, the Daityas and _Brahmarshis_, having performed ascetic devotions there, obtained great merit and finally attained to god-hood. "'"Men of self-control, by even thinking mentally of Pushkara, are cleansed from their sins, and regarded in heaven. O king, the illustrious grand-sire having the lotus for his seat, had dwelt with great pleasure in this _tirtha_. O blessed one, it was in Pushkara that the gods with the Rishis having acquired of old great merit, finally obtained the highest success. The person who, devoted to the worship of the gods and the _Pitris_, batheth in this _tirtha_, obtaineth, it hath been said by the wise, merit that is equal to ten times that of the horse-sacrifice. Having gone to the Pushkara woods, he that feedeth even one Brahmana, becometh happy here and hereafter, O Bhishma, for that act. He that supporteth himself on vegetables and roots and fruits, may with pious regard and without disrespect, give even such fare to a Brahmana. And, O best of kings, the man of wisdom, even by such a gift, will acquire the merit of a horse-sacrifice. Those illustrious persons among Brahmanas or Kshatriyas or Vaisyas or Sudras that bathe in Pushkara are freed from the obligation of rebirth. That man in special who visits Pushkara on the full moon of the month of _Karttika_, acquireth ever-lasting regions in the abode of Brahma. He that thinketh with joined hands morning and evening, of the Pushkara, practically batheth, O Bharata, in every _tirtha_. Whether a male or a female, whatever sins one may commit since birth, are all destroyed as soon as one batheth in Pushkara. As the slayer of Madhu is the foremost of all the celestials, so is Pushkara, O king, the foremost of all _tirthas_. A man by residing with purity and regulated vows for twelve years in Pushkara, acquireth the merit of all the sacrifices, and goeth to the abode of Brahma. The merit of one who performeth the _Agnihotra_ for full one hundred years, is equal to that of him who resideth for the single month of _Karttika_ in Pushkara. There are three white hillocks and three springs known from the remotest times, we do not know why, by the name of the Pushkara. It is difficult to go to Pushkara; it is difficult to undergo ascetic austerities at Pushkara; it is difficult to give away at Pushkara; and it is difficult to live at Pushkara. "'"Having dwelt for twelve nights at Pushkara with regulated diet and vows, and having walked round (the place), one must go to _Jamvu-marga_. One that goeth to _Jamvu-marga_ which is resorted to by the celestials, the Rishis, and the _Pitris_, acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and the fruition of all his wishes. The man that resideth there for five nights, hath his soul cleansed from all sins. He never sinketh into hell, but acquireth high success. Leaving Jamvu-marga one must go to _Tandulikasrama_. He that goeth there never sinketh into hell but ascendeth to the abode of Brahma. He that goeth to the lake of Agastya and occupieth himself with the worship of the _Pitris_ and celestials, fasting for three nights, acquireth, O king, the fruit of the _Agnishtoma_. Going thither, he that liveth on vegetables or fruits acquireth the status called _Kaumara_. One should next proceed to the beautiful asylum of Kanwa, which is worshipped by the whole world. That sacred wood characterised by holiness, existeth, O bull of the Bharata race, from very remote times. As soon as one entereth it, he is freed from all his sins. He who with regulated diet and vows worshippeth the _Pitris_ and the gods there, obtaineth the fruit of a sacrifice that is capable of bestowing the fruition of all one's desires. Having walked round this asylum one must then go to the spot where Yayati fell (from heaven). He that goeth thither, acquireth the merit of a horse-sacrifice. One must then go to _Mahakala_ with regulated diet and senses subdued. And having bathed in the _tirtha_ called _Koti_, one obtaineth the merit of a horse-sacrifice. A virtuous man should next proceed to the _tirtha_ of Sthanu, the husband of Uma, known over the three worlds by the name of _Bhadravata_. That best of men who goeth to _Bhadravata_, beholdeth Isana and obtaineth the fruit of a gift of a thousand kine. And through the grace of Mahadeva, he acquireth the status of _Ganapatya_ blessed with prosperity and peace and high grace. Having arrived then at the _Narmada_, that river celebrated over the three worlds, and given oblations of water to the _Pitris_ and the gods, one acquireth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. He that goeth into the Southern ocean, practising the Brahmacharya mode of life, and with senses subdued, acquireth the fruit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice and ascendeth to heaven. Having arrived at _Charmanwati_, with regulated diet and senses subdued, one acquireth, at the command of Ramideva, the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. One must then go, O virtuous chief of warriors, to _Arauda_, the son of Himavat, where there was a hole through the earth in days of yore. There is the asylum of Vasistha, celebrated over the three worlds. Having resided for one night, one obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. He that, leading a Brahmacharya mode of life batheth in the _tirtha_ called _Pinga_, obtaineth, O tiger among kings, the merit of the gift of a hundred _Kapila_ kine. One must next go, O king, to that excellent _tirtha_ called _Prabhasa_. There Hutasana is always present in his own person. He, the friend of Pavana, O hero, is the mouth of all the gods. The man that with subdued and sanctified soul batheth in that _tirtha_, obtaineth merit greater than that of the _Agnishtoma_ or _Atimtra_ sacrifices. Proceeding next to the spot where the Saraswati mingleth with the sea, one obtaineth the fruit of the gift of a thousand kine and heaven also besides, O bull of the Bharata race, blazing forth for all time like Agni himself. He that with subdued soul batheth in the _tirtha_ of the king of waters, and giveth oblations of water unto the _Pitris_ and the gods, living there for three nights, blazeth forth like the Moon, and obtaineth also the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. One should next proceed, O best of the Bharata, unto the _tirtha_ known by the name of _Varadana_, where (the Rishi) Durvasa had given a boon unto Vishnu. A man by bathing in Varadana obtaineth the fruit of the gift of a thousand kine. One should next proceed with subdued senses and regulated diet to _Dwaravati_, where by bathing in _Pindaraka_, one obtaineth the fruit of the gift of gold in abundance. O blessed one, it is wonderful to relate that in that _tirtha_, to this day, coins with the mark of the lotus and lotuses also with the mark of the trident, are seen, O represser of heroes! And O bull among men, the presence of Mahadeva is there. Arriving then, O Bharata, at the spot where the _Sindhu_ mingleth with the sea, one should with subdued soul bathe in that _tirtha_ of Varuna. And bathing there and giving oblations of water to the _Pitris_, the Rishis, and the gods one acquireth, O bull of the Bharata race, the region of Varuna, and blazeth forth in effulgence of his own. Men of wisdom say that, by worshipping the god known by the name of _Shankukarneswara_, one acquireth ten times the merit of the horse-sacrifice. O bull of the Bharata race, having walked round that _tirtha_, one should, O thou foremost of the Kurus, go to that _tirtha_ celebrated over the three worlds and known by the name of _Drimi_. That _tirtha_ cleanseth from every sin, and it is there that the gods including Brahma worship Maheswara. Having bathed there and worshipped Rudra surrounded by the other gods, one is freed from all sins since birth. It was there, O best of men, that _Drimi_ was adored by all the gods. Bathing there, O best of men, one obtaineth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. O thou of great intelligence, Vishnu the creator of the universe, after slaying the Daityas and Danavas, went thither to purify himself. O virtuous one, one should next proceed to _Vasudhara_ adored by all. The moment one arrives at that _tirtha_, one acquireth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. And, O thou best of the Kurus, by bathing there with subdued soul and rapt attention, and giving oblations of water unto the gods and the _Pitris_ one ascendeth unto the region of Vishnu and is adored there. In that _tirtha_, O bull of the Bharata race, there is a sacred lake of the Vasus. By bathing there and drinking of its water, one becometh regarded of the Vasus. There is a celebrated _tirtha_ of the name of _Sindhuttama_, which destroyeth every sin. O best of men, by bathing there, one acquireth the fruit of the gift of gold in abundance. By arriving at _Bhadratunga_ with sanctified soul and purity of conduct, one acquireth the region of Brahma and a high state of blessedness. There is then the _tirtha_ of the _Kumarikas_ of Indra, that is much resorted to by the _Siddhas_. O best of men, by bathing there, one obtaineth the region of Indra. In _Kumarika_ there is another _tirtha_ called _Renuka_, which is also resorted to by the _Siddhas_. A Brahmana by bathing there would become as bright as the Moon. Proceeding next to the tirtha called the _Panchananda_, with subdued sense and regulated diet, one obtaineth the fruit of the five sacrifices that have been mentioned one after another in the scriptures. Then, O king, one should go to the excellent region of Bhima. O best of the Bharatas by bathing in the _tirtha_ there, that is called _Yoni_, a man (in his next birth) becometh, O king, the son of a goddess, bearing ear-rings decked with pearls, and obtaineth also the merit of the gift of a hundred thousand kine. Proceeding next to _Srikunda_, celebrated over the three worlds and worshipping the grandsire, one obtaineth the fruit of the gift of a thousand kine. O virtuous one, one should then go to the excellent tirtha called _Vimala_, where to this day may be seen fishes of golden and silver hues. By bathing there, one soon acquireth the region of Vasava, and his soul being cleansed from every sin, he attaineth to a high state of blessedness. Proceeding next to _Vitasta_ and giving oblations of water unto the _Pitris_ and the gods, a man, O Bharata, obtaineth the fruit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice. That sin-destroying tirtha known by the name of _Vitasta_, is situate in the country of the _Kasmiras_ and is the abode of the Naga Takshaka. Bathing there, a man certainly obtaineth the fruit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice, and his soul cleansed from every sin, he attaineth to a high state of blessedness. One should next proceed to _Vadava_ celebrated over the three worlds. Bathing there with due rites in the evening, one should offer rice boiled in butter and milk, according to the best of his might, unto the deity of seven flames. Men of wisdom say that a gift made here in honour of the _Pitris_, becometh inexhaustible. The Rishis, the _Pitris_, the gods, the Gandharvas, several tribes of Apsaras, the Guhyakas, the Kinnaras, the Yakshas, the _Siddhas_, the Vidhyadharas, the Rakshasas, Daityas, Rudras, and Brahma himself, O king, having with subdued senses, accepted a course of austerities for a thousand years in order to move Vishnu to grace, cooked rice in milk and butter and gratified Kesava with oblations, each offered with seven Riks. And, O king, the gratified Kesava thereupon conferred on them the eight-fold attributes called _Aiswarya_ and other objects that they desired. And having bestowed upon them these, that god disappeared in their sight like lightning in the clouds. And it is for this, O Bharata, that that _tirtha_ became known by the name of _Saptacharu_, and if one offereth _Charu_ there to the seven flamed deity, he obtaineth merit superior to that of the gift of a hundred thousand kine, to that of a hundred Rajasuya sacrifices, as also of a hundred horse-sacrifices. Leaving _Vadava_, O king, one should then proceed to Raudrapada, and beholding Mahadeva there one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Proceeding then, with subdued soul and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life, to _Manirnat_, and residing there for one night, one acquireth, O king, the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. One should then go, O king, to _Devika_ celebrated over the whole world. It was there, O bull of Bharata race, that, as heard by us, the Brahmanas first sprang into existence. There also is the region of the holder of the trident--a region that is celebrated over the world. Having bathed in _Devika_ and worshipped Maheswara by offering him, to the best of one's might, rice boiled in milk and butter, a man obtaineth, O bull of the Bharata race, the merit of a sacrifice that is capable of filling every desire. There also is another _tirtha_ of Rudra called _Kamakhya_, which is much resorted to by the gods. Bathing there, a man speedily obtaineth success. By touching also the water of _Yajana_, _Brahmavaluka_, and _Pushpamva_, one becometh free from sorrow in after life. The learned have said that the sacred _tirtha_ of _Devika_, the resort of the gods and the Rishis, is five _Yojanas_ in length and half a _Yojana_ in breadth. One should then, in due order, proceed, O king, to _Dirghasatra_. There the gods with Brahma at their head, the _Siddhas_, and the greatest Rishis, with regulated vows and the recitation and acceptance of the preliminary pledge, perform the long-extending sacrifice. O king, by going only to _Dirghasatra_, O represser of foes, one obtaineth merit that is superior, O Bharata, to that of the Rajasuya or the horse-sacrifice. One should next proceed with subdued senses and regulated diet to _Vinasana_, where _Saraswati_ disappearing on the breast of Meru, re-appeareth at _Chamasa_, _Shivodbheda_ and _Nagadbheda_. Bathing in _Chamasadbheda_, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Bathing in _Shivodbheda_, one acquireth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. And bathing in _Nagodbheda_, one obtaineth the region of the Nagas. One should proceed, next, to the inaccessible _tirtha_ of _Shasayana_, where the cranes, O Bharata, disappearing in the form of _sasas_, re-appear every year in the month of _Kavttika_, and bathe, O blessed chief of the Bharata race, in the Sarasawati. Bathing there, O tiger among men, one blazeth forth like the Moon, and obtaineth, O bull of the Bharata race, the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. One should next proceed, O thou of the Kuru race, to _Kumarakoti_, with subdued senses, and bathing there, worship the gods and the _Puris_. By doing this, one obtaineth the merit of the gift of ten thousand kine, and raiseth all his ancestors to higher regions. One should next, O virtuous one, proceed with subdued soul to _Rudrakoti_, where in olden days, O king, ten millions of Munis had assembled. And, O king, filled with great joy at the prospect of beholding Mahadeva, the Rishis assembled there, each saying, '_I will first behold the god! I will first behold the god!_' And, O king, in order to prevent disputes amongst those Rishis of subdued souls, the Lord of _Yoga_, by the help of his _Yoga_ power, multiplied himself into ten million forms, and stood before every one of them. And every one of these Rishis said, '_I have seen him first!_' And gratified, O king, with the deep devotion of those Munis of subdued souls, Mahadeva granted them a boon, saying, '_From this day your righteousness shall grow!_' And, O tiger among men, one that bathes, with a pure mind, in _Rudrakoti_ obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and delivereth his ancestors. One should next proceed, O king, to that highly sacred and celebrated region where the Saraswati mingles with the sea. Thither, O king, the gods with Brahma at their head and Rishis with wealth of asceticism repair for adoring Kesava on the fourteenth day of the lighted fortnight of the month of Chaitra. Bathing there, O tiger among men, one obtaineth the merit of giving away gold in abundance, and his soul being cleansed from every sin, he ascendeth to the region of Brahma. It is there, O king, that the Rishis have completed many a sacrifice. By a trip to that spot one obtaineth the merit of the gifts of a thousand kine."'" SECTION LXXXIII "'Pulastya said, "One should next proceed, O king, to the adored Kurukshetra at sight of which all creatures are freed from their sins. He is freed from all sins who constantly sayeth, '_I will live in Kurukshetra_.' The very dust of Kurukshetra, conveyed by the wind, leadeth a sinful man to a blessed course (in after-life). They that dwell in Kurukshetra which lieth to the south of the Saraswati and the north of the Drishadwati, are said to dwell in heaven. O hero, one should reside there, O thou foremost of warriors, for a month. There, O lord of earth, the gods with Brahma at their head, the Rishis, the Siddhas, the Charanas, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, the Yakshas and the Nagas, often repair, O Bharata, to the highly sacred Brahmakshetra. O foremost of warriors, the sins of one that desireth to repair to Kurukshetra even mentally are all destroyed, and he finally goeth into the region of Brahma. O son of the Kuru race, by repairing to Kurukshetra in a pious frame of mind, one obtaineth the fruit of the Rajasuya and horse sacrifices. By saluting next the Yaksha called Mankanaka, that mighty gate-keeper (of Kuvera), he obtaineth the fruit of giving away a thousand kine. O virtuous king, one should next repair to the excellent region of Vishnu, where Hari is always present. Bathing there and bowing down unto Hari, the Creator of the three worlds, one obtaineth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice and repaireth to the abode of Vishnu. One should next repair to Pariplava, that _tirtha_ celebrated over the three worlds, and (bathing there), O Bharata, one obtaineth merit that is greater than that of the _Agnishtoma_ and the _Atiratra_ sacrifices. Repairing next to the _tirtha_ called Prithivi, one obtaineth the fruit of the gift of a thousand kine. The pilgrim should next, O king, proceed to Shalukini and bathing there in the Dasaswamedha one obtaineth the merit of ten horse-sacrifices. Proceeding next to _Sarpadevi_, that excellent _tirtha_ of the Nagas, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice and attaineth to the region of the Nagas. O virtuous one, one should next proceed to _Tarantuka_, the gatekeeper, and residing there for one night one obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Proceeding next with subdued senses and regulated diet to _Panchananda_ and bathing in the _tirtha_ there, called _Koti_, one obtaineth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. Proceeding then to the _tirtha_ of the twin _Aswins_ one obtaineth personal beauty. O virtuous one, one should next proceed to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Varaha_, where Vishnu formerly stood in the form of a boar. Bathing there one obtaineth, O foremost of men, the merit of the horse-sacrifice. One should next, O king, repair to the _tirtha_ called _Sama_ in Jayanti. Bathing there one obtaineth the merit of Rajasuya sacrifice. By bathing in _Ekahansa_, a man obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. O king, a pilgrim repairing to _Kritasaucha_ obtaineth the lotus-eyed deity (Vishnu) and perfect purity of soul. One should next proceed to _Munjavata_, that spot sacred to the illustrious _Sthanu_. Residing there without food for one night, one obtaineth the status called _Ganapatya_. There, O king, is the celebrated _tirtha_ called _Yakshini_. O king, repairing to that _tirtha_ and bathing there, one obtaineth fruition of all his desires. O bull of the Bharata race, that _tirtha_ is regarded as the gate of _Kurukshetra_. The pilgrim should with concentrated soul, walk round it. Equal unto the Pushkaras, it was created by the high-souled Rama, the son of Jamadagni. Bathing there and worshipping the _Pitris_ and the gods, one obtaineth, O king, the merit of the horse-sacrifice and becometh successful in everything. The pilgrim should next repair with concentrated soul to the _Rama-hrada_. There, O king, the heroic Rama of resplendent energy, exterminating the Kshatriyas by his might, dug five lakes and filled them, O tiger among men, with the blood of his victims, as heard by us. And having filled those lakes with Kshatriya blood, Rama offered oblations of blood to his sires and grandsires. Gratified (with the oblations) those Rishis then addressed Rama and said, 'O Rama, O Rama, O thou of great good fortune, we have been gratified with thee, O thou of the Bhrigu race, for this thy regard for the Pitris, and thy prowess, O exalted one! Blessed be thou and ask thou the boon thou choosest. What is that thou desirest, O thou of great splendour!' Thus addressed (by them), Rama, that foremost of smiters, said with joined hands these words unto the _Pitris_, stationed in the firmament, 'If ye have been gratified with me, if I have deserved your favour, I desire this favour of the Pitris, _viz_., that I may have pleasure again in ascetic austerities. Let me also, through your power, be freed from the sin I have committed by exterminating, from wrath, the Kshatriya race. Let also my lakes become _tirthas_ celebrated over the world.' The Pitris, hearing these blessed words of Rama, were highly gratified, and filled with joy they answered him saying, 'Let thy asceticism increase in consequence of thy regard for the Pitris. Thou hast exterminated the Kshatriyas from wrath. Freed art thou already from that sin, for they have perished as a consequence of their own misdeeds. Without doubt, these lakes of thine will become _tirthas_. And if one, bathing in these lakes, offereth oblations of the water thereof to the _Pitris_, the latter gratified with him will grant him desire, difficult of fulfilment in the world as also eternal heaven.' O king, having granted him these boons, the Pitris joyfully saluted Rama of the Bhrigu race and disappeared there and then. It was thus that the lakes of the illustrious Rama of the Bhrigu race became sacred. Leading a Brahmacharya mode of life and observing sacred vows, one should bathe in the lakes of Rama. Bathing therein and worshipping Rama, one obtaineth, O king, the merit of gift of gold in abundance. Proceeding next, O son of the Kuru race, to _Vansamulaka_, a pilgrim by bathing there, raiseth, O king, his own race. O best of the Bharatas, arriving next at the _tirtha_ called _Kayasodhana_, and bathing there, one purifieth, without doubt, his body, and proceeded with purified body to the blessed region of unrivalled excellence. One should next repair, O virtuous one, to that _tirtha_, celebrated over the three worlds, called _Lokoddara_, where formerly Vishnu of great prowess had created the worlds. Arriving at that _tirtha_ which is adored by the three worlds one earneth, O king, by bathing there, numerous worlds for himself. Repairing next with subdued soul to the _tirtha_ called _Sree_, one acquires, by bathing there and worshipping the Pitris and the gods, high prosperity. Leading a Brahmacharya mode of life and with concentrated soul, one should proceed next to the _tirtha_ called _Kapila_. Bathing there and worshipping one's own Pitris and the gods, a man earneth the fruit of the gift of a thousand Kapila kine. Repairing next to the _tirtha_ called _Surya_ and bathing there with subdued soul and worshipping the Pitris and the gods, fasting all the while, one obtaineth the fruit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice and goeth (finally) to the region of the Sun. The pilgrim by proceeding next to Gobhavana and bathing there obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. O son of the Kuru race, a pilgrim by repairing then to the _tirtha_ called _Shankhini_ and bathing in the _Devi-tirtha_ that is there, obtaineth high prowess. O king, one should then proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Tarandaka_ situated in the Saraswati and belonging to the illustrious chief of the Yakshas who is one of the gate-keepers (of Kuvera). O king, bathing there one obtaineth the fruit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. O virtuous king, one should next repair to the _tirtha_ called _Brahmavarta_. Bathing in _Brahmavarta_, one ascendeth to the abode of Brahma. O king, one should then repair to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Sutirtha_. There the Pitris are ever present along with the gods. One should bathe there and worship the Pitris and the gods. By so doing, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and goeth (finally) into the region of the Pitris. It is for this, O virtuous one, that _Sutirtha_ situate in _Amvumati_ is regarded as so excellent. And, O thou best of the Bharata race, having bathed in the _tirtha_ of _Kasiswara_, one becometh freed from all diseases and is adored in the abode of Brahma. There in that _tirtha_, is another called _Matri_. One that bathes in _Matri tirtha_ hath a large progeny and obtaineth, O king, great prosperity. One should next proceed with subdued sense and regulated diet to the _tirtha_ called _Shitavana_. And, O great king, it hath been seen that one merit of that _tirtha_ which rarely belongs to any other, is that one only going thither obtaineth holiness. By casting off his hair in that _tirtha_ one acquireth, O Bharata, great sanctity. There, in that _tirtha_, is another called _Shwavillomapaha_, where, O tiger among men, and chief of the Bharata race, learned Brahmanas that go to _tirthas_ obtain great satisfaction by a dip into its waters. Good Brahmanas, O king, by casting off their hair in that _tirtha_ acquire holiness by _Pranayama_ and finally attain to a high state. There, O king, in that _tirtha_ is also another called _Dasaswamedhika_. Bathing there, O tiger among men, one attains to a high state. One should next proceed, O king, to the celebrated _tirtha_ called _Manusha_ where, O king, a number of black antelopes afflicted by the hunter's arrows, plunging into its waters, were transformed into human beings. Bathing in that _tirtha_, leading a _Brahmacharya_ mode of life and with concentrated soul, a man becomes freed from all his sins and is adored in heaven. Distant by a _krosa_, O king, to the east of _Manusha_ there is a river celebrated by the name of _Apaga_ that is resorted to by the _Siddhas_. The man that offereth there the _syamaka_ grain in honour of the gods and the Pitris acquireth great religious merit. And if one Brahmana is fed there, it becomes equivalent to feeding ten millions of Brahmanas. Having bathed in that _tirtha_ and worshipped the gods and the Pitris and resided there for one night, a man obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. One should then repair, O king, to that excellent region of Brahma which, O Bharata, is known on earth by the name of _Brahmodumvara_. Bathing in the tank of the seven Rishis that is there, O bull among men, with pure mind and subdued soul, as also in the _tirtha_ called _Kedara_ of the high-souled _Kapila_, and beholding Brahma who is there, one's soul being purified from all sins, one goeth to the abode of Brahma. Proceeding next to the inaccessible _tirtha_ called _Kedara of Kapila_, and burning one's sins there by ascetic penances, one acquireth the power of disappearance at will. One should next proceed, O king, to the celebrated _tirtha_ called _Saraka_, and beholding Mahadeva there on the fourteenth day of the dark fortnight, one obtaineth all his wishes and goeth also into heaven. O son of the Kuru race, in _Saraka_ and _Rudrakoti_ as also in the well and the lakes that are there, thirty millions of _tirthas_ are present. There in that _tirtha_, O chief of the Bharatas, is another called _Ilaspada_. Bathing there and worshipping the gods and the Pitris, one never sinketh into hell but obtaineth the fruit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice. Repairing next to _Kindana_ and _Kinjapya_, one acquireth, O Bharata, the merit of giving away in measureless abundance and the infinite recitation of prayers. Repairing next to the _tirtha_ called _Kalasi_ and bathing there devoutly and with the senses under control, a man obtaineth the fruit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. To the east of _Saraka_, O chief of the Kurus, there is an auspicious _tirtha_ known by the name of _Anajanma_, of the high-souled Narada. He that bathes there, O Bharata, obtaineth, after death, at the command of Narada various unrivalled regions. One should next proceed, on the tenth day of the lighted fortnight, to the _tirtha_ called _Pundarika_. Bathing there, O king, one obtaineth the merit of the _Pundarika_ sacrifice. One should next proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Tripishtapa_ that is known over the three worlds. There in that _tirtha_ is the sacred and sin-destroying river called _Vaitarani_. Bathing there and adoring the god known by the mark of the bull and holding the trident in his hand, one's soul being purified from every sin one attaineth to the highest state. One should next proceed, O king, to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Phalakivana_. There in that _tirtha_ the gods, O monarch, having been present, performed their ascetic austerities extending for many thousand years. One should then proceed to the _Dhrishadwati_. Bathing there and worshipping the gods, one obtaineth, O Bharata, merit that is superior to that of both the _Agnishtoma_ and the _Atiratra_ sacrifices. O chief of the Bharatas, bathing in that _tirtha_ called _Sarvadeva_, a man obtaineth, O king, the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Bathing next in the _tirtha_ called _Panikhata_ and worshipping all the gods, a man obtaineth merit that is superior to that of both the _Agnishtoma_ and the _Atiratra_ sacrifices, besides acquiring that of the _Rajasuya_ sacrifice and finally going into the region of the Rishis. One should next proceed, O virtuous one, to that excellent _tirtha_ called _Misraka_. There, O tiger among kings, it hath been heard by us that the high-souled Vyasa, for the sake of the Brahmanas, hath mixed all the _tirthas_. He, therefore, that bathes in _Misraka_ really bathes in all the _tirtha_. One should next proceed with subdued senses and regulated diet, to the _tirtha_ called _Vyasavana_. Bathing in the _tirtha_ called _Manojava_ that is there, one obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. Proceeding next to the _Devi tirtha_ that is in _Madhuvati_, one that bathes there and worships the gods and the Pitris obtains at the command of the Goddess the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. Proceeding with regulated diet, he that bathes in the confluence of the _Kausiki_ and the _Drishadwati_, becometh free from all his sins. One should next proceed to _Vyasasthali_ where Vyasa of great intelligence, burning with grief for his son had resolved to cast off his body but was cheered again by the gods. Proceeding to that spot of Vyasa, one obtaineth the merit of a thousand kine. O son of the Kuru race, proceeding next to the well called _Kindatta_, he that throweth into it a measure of sesame, is freed from all his debts and obtaineth his success. Bathing in the _tirtha_ called _Vedi_, one obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. There are two other celebrated tirthas called _Ahas_ and _Sudina_. Bathing there, O tiger among men, one goeth to the region of the Sun. One should next proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Mrigadhuma_ that is celebrated throughout the three worlds. One should bathe there, O king, in Ganga. Bathing there and worshipping Mahadeva, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Bathing next in the _Devi tirtha_ one obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. One should then proceed to _Vamanaka_ celebrated over the three worlds. Bathing there in _Vishnupada_ and worshipping Vamana one's soul being purified from every sin, one goeth to the abode of Vishnu. Bathing next in Kulampuna, one sanctifieth his own race. Proceeding then to the _Pavana-hrada_, that excellent _tirtha_ of the _Marutas_, and bathing there, O king and tiger among men, one becometh adored in the region of the Wind-god. Bathing in the _Amara-hrada_ and worshipping with devotion the chief of the celestials, one becometh adored in heaven and courseth, seated on an excellent car, in the company of the immortals. O best of great men, bathing next with due rites in the _tirtha_ called _Salisurya_, of _Salihotra_, one obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. O best of the Bharatas, there is a tirtha called _Sreekunja_ in the Saraswati. Bathing there, O best of men, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. O son of the Kuru race, one should next repair to _Naimishakunja_. O king, the Rishis engaged in ascetic austerities in the woods of _Naimisha_ had, in days of old, taking the vow of pilgrimage, gone to Kurukshetra. There, on the banks of the Saraswati, O chief of the Bharatas, a grove was made, which might serve for a resting spot for themselves, and which was highly gratifying to them. Bathing in the _Saraswati_ there, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. One should next proceed, O virtuous one, to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Kanya_. Bathing there one obtaineth the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. One should next proceed to the excellent _tirtha_ of _Brahma_. Bathing there, a person, of the (three) inferior orders, obtaineth the status of a Brahmana, and if one be a Brahmana, his soul being purified from every sin, he attaineth to the highest state. One should then, O best of men, proceed to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Soma_. Bathing there, O king, one obtaineth the region of _Soma_. One should next proceed, O king, to the _tirtha_ called _Saptasaraswata_, where the celebrated Rishi, Mankanaka, had obtained ascetic success. O king, it hath been heard by us that in days of old Mankanaka having cut his hand with the pointed blade of the Kusa grass, there flowed from his wound vegetable juice (instead of blood). And beholding vegetable juice flow from his wound, the Rishi began to dance with wonder-expanded eyes. And as the Rishi danced, all the mobile and immobile creatures also, overwhelmed with his prowess, began to dance with him. Then, O king, the gods with Brahma at their head and Rishis endued with the wealth of asceticism moved by the act of Mankanaka, represented the matter to Mahadeva, saying, 'It behoveth thee, O god, to act in such a way that this Rishi may not dance.' Thus addressed, Mahadeva, with heart filled with joy, approached the dancing Rishi, and moved by the desire of doing good to the gods, said, 'O great Rishi, O virtuous one, why dost thou dance? O bull among Munis, what can be the reason of this thy present joy?' The Rishi answered, 'O best of Brahmanas, I am an ascetic that tread the path of virtue. Dost thou not behold, O Brahmana, that vegetable juice floweth from the wound in my hand? Filled with great joy at sight of this, I am dancing.' Addressing the Rishi blinded by emotion, the god laughingly said, 'O Brahmana, I do not wonder at this. Behold me.' Having said this, O best of men, Mahadeva, O sinless king, pressed his thumb by the tip of his own finger. And, lo, from the wound thus inflicted, there came out ashes white as snow. And beholding this, O king, that Muni became ashamed and fell at the feet of the god. And believing that there was nothing better and greater than the god Rudra, he began to adore him in these words: 'O holder of the trident, thou art the refuge of the celestials and the Asuras, of, indeed, the universe. By thee have been created the three worlds with their mobile and immobile beings. It is thou again that swallowest everything at the end of the Yuga. Thou art incapable of being known by the gods themselves, far less by me. O sinless one, the gods with Brahma at their head are all displayed in thee. Thou art all, the Creator himself and the Ordainer of the worlds. It is by thy grace that all the gods sport without anxiety or fear.' And adoring Mahadeva thus the Rishi also said, 'O god of gods, grant me thy grace, so that my asceticism may not diminish.' Then that god of cheerful soul answered the regenerate Rishi,--saying, 'Let thy asceticism, O Brahmana, increase a thousandfold through my grace. And, O great Muni, I shall dwell with thee in this thy asylum. Bathing in _Saptasaraswata_, they that will worship me, shall be able to attain everything here and hereafter. And, without doubt, they shall all attain to the _Saraswata_ region in the end.' Having said this, Mahadeva disappeared then and there. After visiting _Saraswata_, one should proceed to _Ausanasa_ celebrated over the three worlds. There, O Bharata, the gods with Brahma at their head, and Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, and the illustrious Kartikeya, were ever present during two twilights and the mid-day, impelled by the desire of doing good to Bhargava. There in that _tirtha_ is another called _Kapalamochana_, which cleanseth from every sin. O tiger among men, bathing there one is cleansed from every sin. One should then proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Agni_. Bathing there, O bull among men, one obtaineth the regions of _agni_ and raiseth his own race (from lower regions). There in that _tirtha_ is another, O chief of the Bharatas, that belongeth to Viswamitra. Bathing there, O best of men, one obtaineth the status of a Brahmana. Proceeding next to Brahmayoni in purity of body and with subdued soul, one obtaineth, O tiger among men, by bathing there, the abode of Brahma, and sanctifieth, without doubt, his own race to the seventh generation up and down. One should next proceed, O king, to the _tirtha_ celebrated over the three worlds, which is called _Prithudaka_, belonging to Kartikeya. One should bathe there and occupy oneself in the worship of the Pitris and the gods. Whatever evil hath been committed, knowingly or unknowingly, by man or woman, impelled by human motives, is all destroyed, O Bharata, by a bath in that _tirtha_. Bathing there one obtaineth, too, the merit of the horse-sacrifice and heaven also. The learned have said that _Kurukshetra_ is holy; that holier than _Kurukshetra_ is the _Saraswati_; that holier than the Saraswati are all the _tirthas_ together, and that holier than all the _tirthas_ together is _Prithudaka_. He that engaged in the recitation of prayers casteth off his body at Prithudaka, which is the best of all _tirthas_, becometh an immortal. It hath been sung by Sanatkumara and by the high-souled Vyasa, and it is in the Vedas also, that one should, O king, go to Prithudaka, with subdued soul. O son of Kuru race, there is no _tirtha_ which is superior to Prithudaka. Without doubt, that _tirtha_ is purifying, holy and sin-destroying. O best of men, it hath been said by learned persons that men, however sinful, by bathing in Prithudaka, go to heaven. O best of the Bharatas, there in that _tirtha_ is another called _Madhusrava_. Bathing there, O king, one obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. One should then proceed, O king, to that celebrated and sacred _tirtha_ where the Saraswati uniteth with the Aruna. One that batheth there, having fasted for three nights, is cleansed of even the sin of slaying a Brahmana, and obtaineth also merit that is superior to that of either the _Agnishtoma_ or _Atiratra_ sacrifice, and rescueth his race to the seventh generation up and down. There in that _tirtha_ is another, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, that is called Ardhakila. From compassion for the Brahmanas, that _tirtha_ was made by Darbhi in days of old. Without doubt, by vows, by investiture of the sacred, by fasts, by rites and by _Mantras_, one becometh a Brahmana. O bull among men, it hath been seen, however, by learned persons of old that even one destitute of rites and _Mantras_, by only bathing in that _tirtha_ becometh learned and endued with the merit of vows. Darbhi had also brought hither the four oceans. O best of men, one that batheth here, never meeteth with distress hereafter and obtaineth also the merit of giving away four thousand kine. One should next repair, O virtuous one, to the _tirtha_ called _Satasahasraka_. Near to this is another called _Sahasraka_. Both are celebrated, and one that batheth in them, obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Fasts and gifts there multiply a thousandfold. One should next proceed, O king, to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Renuka_. One should bathe there and worship the _Pitris_ and the gods. By this, cleansed from every sin, he obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Bathing next in the _tirtha_ called _Vimochana_ with passions and senses under control, one is cleansed from all the sins generated by the acceptance of gifts. With senses under control and practising the Brahmacharya mode of life, one should next repair to the woods of Panchavati. By a sojourn thither, one earneth much virtue and becometh adored in the regions of the virtuous. One should next go to the _tirtha_ of _Varuna_ called _Taijasa_, blazing in effulgence of its own. There in that _tirtha_ is the lord of Yoga, Sthanu himself, having for his vehicle the bull. He that sojourneth there, obtaineth success by worshipping the god of gods. It was there that the gods with Brahma at their head and Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, installed Guha as the generalissimo of the celestials. To the east of that _tirtha_ is another, O perpetuator of Kuru race, that is called Kuru _tirtha_. With senses under control and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life, he that bathes in _Kuru-tirtha_, becometh cleansed of all his sins and obtaineth the region of Brahma. With subdued senses and regulated diet one should next proceed to _Svargadwara_. Sojourning thither, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice and goeth to the abode of Brahma. The pilgrim should then, O king, proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Anaraka_. Bathing there, O king, one never meeteth with distress hereafter. There, O king, Brahma himself with the other gods having Narayana at their head, is ever present, O tiger among men! And, O royal son of the Kuru race, the wife also of Rudra is present there. Beholding the goddess, one never meeteth with distress hereafter. There in that _tirtha_ O king, is also (an image of) _Visweswara_, the lord of Uma. Beholding the god of gods there, one is cleansed of all his sins. Beholding also (the image of) _Narayana_ from whose navel had sprung the lotus, one blazeth forth, O royal represser of all foes, and goeth to the abode of Vishnu. O bull among men, he that batheth in the _tirthas_ of all the gods, is exempted from every sorrow and blazeth forth like the Moon. The pilgrim should next proceed, O king, to _Swastipura_. By walking around that place, one obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Arriving next at the _tirtha_ called _Pavana_, one should offer oblations to the _Pitris_ and the gods. By this, he obtaineth, O Bharata, the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Near to that is _Ganga-hrada_, and another, O Bharata, called _Kupa_. Thirty millions of _tirthas_, O king, are present in that Kupa. Bathing there, O king, a person obtaineth heaven. Bathing also in the _Ganga-hrada_ and adoring Maheswara, one obtaineth the status of _Ganapatya_ and rescueth his own race. One should next proceed to _Sthanuvata_, celebrated over the three worlds. Bathing there, O king, one obtaineth heaven. One should then proceed to _Vadanpachana_, the asylum of _Vasishtha_. Having fasted there for three nights, one should eat jujubes. He that liveth on jujubes for twelve years, and he that fasteth at the _tirtha_ for three nights, acquireth merit that is eternal. Arriving then at _Indramarga_, O king, and fasting there for a day and night the pilgrim becometh adored in the abode of Indra. Arriving next at the _tirtha_ called _Ekaratra_, a person that stayeth there for one night, with regulated vows and refraining from untruth, becometh adored in the abode of Brahma. One should next go, O king, to the asylum of _Aditya_--that illustrious god who is a mass of effulgence. Bathing in that tirtha celebrated over three worlds, and worshipping the god of light, one goeth to the region of Aditya and rescueth his own race. The pilgrim then, O king, bathing in the _tirtha_ of _Soma_, obtaineth, without doubt, the region of Soma. One should next proceed, O virtuous one, to the most sacred _tirtha_ of the illustrious _Dadhicha_, that sanctifying _tirtha_ which is celebrated over the whole world. It was here that Angiras, that ocean of ascetic austerities belonging to the Saraswata race, was born. Bathing in that _tirtha_, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and without doubt, gaineth also residence in the region of Saraswati. With subdued senses and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life, one should next proceed to _Kanyasrama_. Residing there for three nights, O king, with subdued senses and regulated diet, one obtaineth a hundred celestial damsels and goeth also to the abode of Brahma. One should next, O virtuous one, proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Sannihati_. Sojourning thither the gods with Brahma at their head and Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism earn much virtue. Bathing in the Saraswati during a solar eclipse, one obtaineth the merit of a hundred horse-sacrifices, and any sacrifice that one may perform there produceth merit that is eternal. Whatever _tirthas_ exist on earth or in the firmament, all the rivers, lakes, smaller lakes, springs, tanks, large and small, and spots sacred to particular gods, without doubt, all come, O tiger among men, month after month, and mingle with _Sannihati_, O king of men! And it is because that all other _tirthas_ are united together here, that this _tirtha_ is so called. Bathing there and drinking of its water, one becometh adored in heaven. Listen now, O king, to the merit acquired by that mortal who performeth a _Sraddha_ on the day of the new moon during a solar eclipse. The person that performeth a _Sraddha_ there, after having bathed in that _tirtha_, obtaineth the merit that one earneth by properly celebrating a thousand horse-sacrifices. Whatever sins a man or woman committeth, are, without doubt, all destroyed as soon as one batheth in that _tirtha_. Bathing there one also ascendeth to the abode of Brahma on the lotus-coloured car. Bathing next in _Koti-tirtha_, after having worshipped the Yaksha doorkeeper, Machakruka, one obtaineth the merit of giving away gold in abundance. Near to this, O best of the Bharatas, is a _tirtha_ called _Ganga-hrada_. One should bathe there, O virtuous one, with subdued soul and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life. By this, one obtaineth merit that is greater than that of a Rajasuya and horse-sacrifices. The _tirtha_ called _Naimisha_ is productive of good on earth. _Pushkara_ is productive of good in the regions of the firmament; _Kurukshetra_, however, is productive of good in respect of all the three worlds. Even the dust of Kurukshetra, carried by the wind, leadeth sinful men to a highly blessed state. They that reside in Kurukshetra, which lieth to the north of the Drishadwati and the south of the Saraswati, really reside in heaven. '_I will go to Kurukshetra,' 'I will dwell in Kurukshetra_,' he that uttereth those words even once, becometh cleansed of all sins. The sacred _Kurukshetra_ which is worshipped by Brahmarshis, is regarded as the sacrificial altar of the celestials. Those mortals that dwell there, have nothing to grieve for at any time. That which lieth between Tarantuka and Arantuka and the lakes of Rama and Machakruka is Kurukshetra. It is also called _Samantapanchaka_ and is said to be the northern sacrificial altar of the Grandsire."'" SECTION LXXXIV "'Pulastya said, "Then, O great king, one should proceed to the excellent _tirtha_ of _Dharma_, where the illustrious god of justice had practised highly meritorious austerities. And it is for this that he made the spot a sacred _tirtha_ and rendered it celebrated by his own name. Bathing there, O king, a virtuous man with concentrated soul certainly sanctifieth his family to the seventh generation. One should then repair, O king, to the excellent _Jnanapavana_. Sojourning thither, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice, and goeth to the region of the Munis. Then, O monarch, a man should repair to the _Saugandhika-vana_. There dwell the celestials with Brahma at their head, Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, the Siddhas, the Charanas, the Gandharvas, the Kinnaras and the serpents. As soon as one entereth these woods, he is cleansed of all his sins. Then, O king, should one repair to the sacred goddess Saraswati, known there as the goddess Plaksha, that best of streams and foremost of rivers. There should one bathe in the water issuing from an ant-hill. (Bathing there and) worshipping the Pitris and the gods, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. There existeth a rare _tirtha_ called _Isanadhyushita_, lying from the ant-hill at the distance of six throws of a heavy stick. As seen in the Puranas, O tiger among men, bathing there a man obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand Kapila kine and of the horse-sacrifice. Journeying next, O foremost of men, to _Sugandha_, and _Satakumbha_ and _Pancha-yaksha_, a man becometh adored in heaven. Repairing to another _tirtha_ there called _Trisulakhata_, one should bathe and set himself to worship the Pitris and the gods. Doing so, without doubt, one obtaineth, after death, the status of _Ganapatya_. One should next proceed, O king, to the excellent spot of the Goddess celebrated over the three worlds by the name of _Sakamvari_. There, for the space of a thousand celestial years, she of excellent vows, month after month, had subsisted upon herbs, O king of men! And attracted by their reverence for the Goddess, many Rishis with wealth of asceticism, came thither, O Bharata, and were entertained by her with herbs. And it is for this that they bestowed on her the name of _Sakamvari_. O Bharata, the man who arriveth at _Sakamvari_, with rapt attention and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life and passeth three nights there in purity and subsisting on herbs alone, obtaineth, at the will of the goddess, the merit of him that liveth upon herbs for twelve years. Then should one proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Suvarna_, famed through the three worlds. There in days of old, Vishnu had paid his adorations to Rudra, for his grace, and obtaineth also many boons difficult of acquisition even by the gods. And, O Bharata, the gratified destroyer of Tripura said, 'O Krishna, thou shalt, without doubt, be much beloved in the world, and the foremost of everything in the universe.' Repairing thither, O king, and worshipping the deity having the bull for his mark, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice as also the status of _Ganapatya_. One should next proceed to the _tirtha_ of _Dhumavati_. Fasting there for three nights, one obtaineth, without doubt, all the wishes cherished by him. To the southern half of this spot of the Goddess, there is, O king, a _tirtha_ called _Rathavarta_. One should, O virtuous one, go up to that place, with devout heart, and having his senses under control. By this, through the grace of Mahadeva, one attaineth to an exalted state. After walking round the place, one should, O bull of the Bharata race, proceed to the _tirtha_ named _Dhara_, which, O thou of great wisdom, washeth off all sins. Bathing there, O tiger among men, a man is freed from every sorrow. One should then repair, O virtuous one, after bowing to the great mountain (Himavat), to the source of the Ganges, which is, without doubt, like the gate of heaven. There should one, with concentrated soul, bathe in the _tirtha_ called _Koti_. By this, one obtaineth the merit of the Pundarika sacrifice, and delivereth his race. Residing one night there, one acquireth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. By offering oblations of water duly to the gods and the Pitris, at _Saptaganga_, _Triganga_ and _Sakravarta_, (which are all there), becometh adored in the regions of the virtuous. Bathing next at _Kanakhala_, and fasting there for three nights, a person reapeth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and goeth to heaven. Then O lord of men, the pilgrim should repair to _Kapilavata_. Fasting for one night there, he obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. O king, there is a _tirtha_ of the illustrious Kapila, king of the Nagas, that is celebrated, O thou best of Kurus, over all the worlds. Bathing there at the _Nagatirtha_ one obtaineth, O king, the merit of giving away a thousand Kapila kine. One should next repair to the excellent _tirtha_ of _Santanu_, called _Lalitika_. Bathing there, O king, one never sinketh into distress (hereafter). The man that bathes at the confluence of the Ganga and the Yamuna, obtains the merit of ten horse-sacrifices, and also rescues his race. One should next, O king, go to _Sugandha_, celebrated over the world. By this, cleansed of every sin, he becometh adored in the abode of Brahma. Then, O lord of men, the pilgrim should repair to _Rudravarta_. Bathing there, one ascendeth to heaven. Bathing at the confluence of the Ganga and the Saraswati, a person obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and also ascendeth to heaven. Proceeding next to _Bhadrakarneswara_ and worshipping the gods duly, one, without sinking into distress, becometh adored in heaven. Then, O lord of men, the pilgrim should proceed to the _tirtha_ called _Kuvjamraka_. By this he obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine, and heaven also. Then, O king, the pilgrim should go to the _Arundhativata_. Proceeding thither with concentrated soul and practising the Brahmacharya vows, one that batheth in _Samudraka_ and fasteth for three nights, obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and of giving away a thousand kine, and also rescueth his race. One should next proceed to _Brahmavarta_, with concentrated soul and practising the Brahmacharya vows. By this, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and goeth to the region of Soma. The man that proceedeth to the _Yamuna-prabhava_, (the source of the Yamuna) and batheth there, obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and is worshipped in heaven. Arriving at _Darvisankramana_, that _tirtha_ which is worshipped of the three worlds, a person obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and goeth to heaven. Repairing next to _Sindhu-prabhava_ (the source of the Indus) which is worshipped by Siddhas and Gandharvas, and staying there for five nights, one obtaineth the merit of giving away gold in abundance. Proceeding next to the inaccessible _tirtha_ called _Vedi_, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and ascendeth to heaven. Then, O Bharata, should one proceed to _Rishikulya_ and _Vasishtha_. By visiting the latter, all orders attain to Brahmanhood. Repairing to _Rishikulya_ and bathing there, and living a month upon herbs, and worshipping the gods and Pitris, one is cleansed of all his sins, and obtaineth the region of the Rishis. Proceeding next to _Bhrigutunga_ a person acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Repairing then to _Vipramoksha_, one is freed from every sin. Proceeding then to the _tirtha_ of _Krittika_ and _Magha_, one, O Bharata, obtaineth the merit superior to that of the _Agnishtoma_ and _Atiratha_ sacrifices. The man who, repairing to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Vidya_, batheth there in the evening, obtaineth proficiency in every kind of knowledge. One should next reside for one night at _Mahasrama_ capable of destroying every sin, taking a single meal. By this, one obtains many auspicious regions, and delivers ten preceding and ten succeeding generations of his race. Dwelling next for a month of Mahalaya, and fasting there for three nights, one's soul is cleansed of all sins and one acquires the merit of giving away gold in abundance. Proceeding next to _Vetasika_ worshipped by the Grandsire, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and the state of Usanas. Going next to the _tirtha_ called _Sundarika_, worshipped by the Siddhas, one obtaineth personal beauty as witnessed by the ancients. Proceeding next to Brahmani with subdued senses and observing the Brahmacharya vow, a person ascendeth to the region of Brahma on a lotus-hued car. One should repair next to the sacred Naimisha, worshipped by the Siddhas. There dwelleth for aye Brahma with the gods. By only purposing to go to Naimisha, half one's sins are destroyed; by entering it, one is cleansed of all his sins. The pilgrim of subdued senses should stay at Naimisha for a month; for, O Bharata, all the _tirthas_ of the earth are at Naimisha. Bathing there, with restrained senses and regulated fare, one obtains, O Bharata, the merit of the cow-sacrifice, and also sanctifies, O best of the Bharatas, his race for seven generations both upwards and downwards. He who renounceth his life at Naimisha by fasting, enjoyeth happiness in the heavenly regions. Even this is the opinion of the wise. O foremost of kings, Naimisha is ever sacred and holy. Proceeding next to _Gangod-bheda_ and fasting there for three nights, a man obtaineth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice, and becometh like unto Brahma himself. Journeying to the Saraswati, one should offer oblations unto the gods and the Pitris. By this, one certainly enjoyeth bliss in the regions called Saraswata. Then should one wend to _Vahuda_, with subdued soul and observing the Brahmacharya vow. Residing there for one night, one becometh adored in heaven, and obtaineth also, O Kaurava, the merit of the _Devasatra_ sacrifice. Then should one repair to the holy _Kshiravati_, frequented by holier men. By worshipping the gods and the Pitris there, one obtains the merit of the _Vajapeya sacrifice_. Proceeding next to _Vimalasoka_, with subdued soul and observing the Brahmacharya vow, and residing there for one night, one is adored in heaven. One should next proceed to the excellent _Gopratra_ in the Sarayu, whence Rama, O king, with all his attendants and animals, renouncing his body, ascended to heaven in consequence of the efficacy of the _tirtha_ alone. Bathing in that _tirtha_, O Bharata, one's soul, through Rama's grace, and by virtue of his own deeds, being cleansed of all sins, one becometh adored in heaven. O Bharata! Proceeding next, O son of the Kuru race, to the _Rama-tirtha_ on the Gomati, and bathing there, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and sanctifieth also his own race. There, O bull of the Bharata race, is another _tirtha_ called _Satasahasrika_. Bathing there, with restrained senses and regulated diet, a person reapeth, O bull of Bharata race, the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Then should one, O king, go to the unrivalled _tirtha_ called _Bhartristhana_. By this, a person obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Bathing next in the _tirtha_ called _Koti_, and worshipping Kartikeya, a man reapeth, O king, the merit of giving away a thousand kine, and acquireth great energy. Proceeding next to _Varanasi_, and worshipping the god having the bull for his mark, after a bath in the _Kapilahrada_, one obtaineth the merit of the Rajasuya sacrifice. Repairing then, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, to the _tirtha_ called _Avimukta_, and beholding there the god of gods, the pilgrim, from such sight alone, is immediately cleansed of even the sin of slaying a Brahmana. By renouncing one's life there, one obtaineth deliverance. Arriving next, O king, at the rare _tirtha_ called _Markandeya_ celebrated over the world and situated at the confluence of the Ganges, a person obtaineth the merit of _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice, and delivereth his race. Sojourning next to _Gaya_, with subdued senses and observing the Brahmacharya vow, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and also rescueth his race. There in that _tirtha_ is the _Akshaya-vata_, celebrated over the three worlds. Whatever is offered there to the Pitris is said to become inexhaustible. Bathing there at the _Mahanadi_, and offering oblations to the gods and the Pitris, a man acquireth eternal regions, and also rescueth his race. Proceeding then to _Brahma-sara_ that is adorned by the woods of Dharma, and passing one night there, a man attaineth to the region of Brahma. In that lake, Brahma had raised a sacrificial pillar. By walking round this pillar, a person acquireth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice. One should next, O mighty monarch, go to _Denuka_ celebrated over the world. Staying there for one night and giving away sesame and kine, one's soul being cleansed from every sin, one ascendeth, without doubt to the region of Soma. There, O king, on the mountains, the cow called Kapila used to range with her calf. There is little doubt of this, O Bharata, the hoof-marks of that cow and her calf are seen there to this day. By bathing in those hoof-prints, O foremost of monarchs, whatever sin a man may have incurred is, O Bharata, washed away. Then should one go to _Gridhravata_, the spot consecrated to the trident-bearing god. Approaching the deity having the bull for his mark one should rub himself with ashes. If a Brahmana, he obtains the merit of observing the twelve year's vow and if belonging to any of the other orders, he is freed from all his sins. One should next proceed to the _Udyanta_ mountains, resounding with melodious notes. There, O bull of the Bharata race, is still seen the foot-print of Savitri. The Brahmana of rigid vows, who sayeth his morning, noon and evening prayers there, obtaineth the merit of performing that service for twelve years. There, O bull of the Bharata race, is the famous _Yonidwara_. Repairing thither, a person becometh exempted from the pain of rebirth. The person that stayeth at Gaya during both the dark and lighted fortnights, certainly sanctifieth, O king, his own race up and down to the seventh generation. One should wish for many sons so that even one may go to Gaya, or celebrate the horse-sacrifice, or offer a _nila_ bull. Then, O king, the pilgrim should proceed to _Phalgu_. By this, he obtains the merit of horse-sacrifice, and acquires great success. O king, one should repair then, with subdued soul, to _Dharmaprishta_. There, O foremost of warriors, dwelleth Dharma for aye. Drinking of the water of a well which is there, and purifying one's self by a bath, he that offereth oblations to the gods and the Pitris is cleansed of all his sins and ascendeth to heaven. There in that _tirtha_ is the hermitage of the great Rishi Matanga of soul under complete control. By entering that beautiful asylum capable of soothing fatigue and sorrow, one earneth the merit of the _Gacayana_ sacrifice, and by touching (the image of) Dharma which is there, one obtaineth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. One should next go, O king, to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Brahmasthana_. Approaching Brahma, that bull among male beings, who is there, one acquireth, O mighty monarch, the merit of the Rajasuya and horse-sacrifices. The pilgrim should then repair to _Rajasuya_, O king of men! Bathing there, one liveth (in heaven) as happily as (the Rishi) Kakshiyan. After purifying himself, one should partake there of the offerings daily made unto the Yakshini. By this, one is freed from the sin of even slaying a Brahmana, through the Yakshini's grace. Proceeding next to _Maninaga_, one obtains the merit of giving away a thousand kine. O Bharata, he that eateth anything relating to the _tirtha_ of _Maninaga_, if bitten by a venomous snake, doth not succumb to its poison. Residing there for one night, one is cleansed of one's sins. Then should one proceed to the favourite wood of the Brahmarshi Gautama. There bathing in the lake of _Ahalya_, one attaineth to an exalted state. Beholding next the image of Sree, one acquireth great prosperity. There in that _tirtha_ is a well celebrated over the three worlds. Bathing in it, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. There also existeth a well sacred to the royal Rishi Janaka, which is worshipped by the gods. Bathing in the well, one ascendeth to the region of Vishnu. Then should one repair to Vinasana that destroys every sin. By a sojourn thither, one obtaineth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice, and goeth also to the region of Soma. Proceeding next to _Gandaki_ which is produced by the waters of every _tirtha_, a person acquireth the merit of the Vajapeya sacrifice, and ascendeth also to the solar region. Proceeding next to the _Visala_, that river celebrated over the three worlds, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice and ascendeth also to heaven. Repairing then, O virtuous one, to the woody seat of ascetics that is called _Adhivanga_, one obtains, without doubt, great happiness amongst the Guhyakas. Proceeding next to the river _Kampana_, visited by the Siddhas, one obtaineth the merit of the _Pundarika_ sacrifice, and ascendeth also to heaven. Arriving then, O lord of earth, at the stream called _Maheswari_, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and also rescueth his own race. Repairing next to the tank of the celestials, one earneth immunity from misfortune, and also the merit of the horse-sacrifice. One should next go to _Somapada_, with subdued soul and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life. Bathing in _Maheswarapada_ that is there, one reapeth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. There in that _tirtha_, O bull of the Bharata race, it is well known that ten millions of _tirthas_ exist together. A wicked Asura in the shape of a tortoise had, O foremost of monarchs, been carrying it away when the powerful Vishnu recovered it from him. There in that _tirtha_ should one perform his ablutions, for by this he acquireth the merit of the _Pundarika_ sacrifice and ascendeth also to the region of Vishnu. Then, O best of kings, should one proceed to the place of Narayana, where, O Bharata, Narayana is ever present and dwelleth for aye. There the gods with Brahma at their head, Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, the Adityas, the Vasus, and the Rudras, all adore Janardana, in that _tirtha_, and Vishnu of wonderful deeds hath become known as _Salagrama_. Approaching the eternal Vishnu, that lord of the three worlds, that giver of boons, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and goeth to the region of Vishnu. There in that place, O virtuous one, is a well, capable of destroying every sin. The four seas are ever present in that well. He that bathes in it, O king, will have immunity from misfortune. Beholding (the image of) the boon-giving, eternal, and fierce Mahadeva who is there, one shineth, O king, like the moon emerged from the cloud. Bathing then in _Jatismara_, with pure mind and subdued senses, one acquireth, without doubt, the recollections of his former life. Proceeding then to _Maheswarapura_, and worshipping the god having the bull for his mark, fasting the while, one obtaineth, without doubt, the fruition of all his desires. Repairing then to _Vamana_ that destroys every sin, and beholding the god Hari, one acquireth exemption from every misfortune. One should next go to the asylum of _Kusika_ that is capable of removing every sin. Repairing then to the river _Kausika_ that cleanseth from even great sins, one should bathe in it. By this one obtaineth the merit of Rajasuya sacrifice. One should next, O foremost of kings, proceed to the excellent woods of _Champaka_. By spending there one night, one acquireth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Arriving next at _Jyeshthila_, that _tirtha_ of rare worth, and passing one night there, one reapeth the fruit of the gift of a thousand kine. Beholding there (the image of) Visweswara of great splendour, with his consort the goddess, a person obtaineth, O bull among men, the region of Mitra-Varuna. By fasting there for three nights, a man acquireth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. By visiting _Kanya-samvedya_, with senses restrained and regulated fare, one acquireth, O bull among men, the region of Manu, the lord of creation. Rishis of rigid vows have said that he that giveth away rice or maketh any gift at the _tirtha_ called _Kanya_, rendereth such gift eternal. Arriving next at _Nischira_ celebrated over the three worlds, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and goeth to the region of Vishnu. O king, those that give away at the confluence of the Nischira, ascend to the blessed region of Brahma. There in that _tirtha_ is the asylum of Vasishtha that is known over the three worlds. Bathing there, one obtaineth the merit of the Vajapeya sacrifice. Proceeding next to _Devakuta_ that is resorted to by celestial Rishis, one acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and also delivereth his race. Then should one, O king, go to the lake of the _Muni Kausika_, where Kusika's son, Viswamitra, obtained high success. Bathing there, a person acquireth the merit of the Vajapeya sacrifice. There, O hero, at Kausika, should one reside for a month, O bull of the Bharata race! By a month's residence there, one reapeth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. He that resideth at the best of tirthas called _Maha-hrada_, enjoys immunity from misfortune, and also obtains the merit of giving away gold in abundance. Beholding next Kartikeya who dwelleth at _Virasrama_, a man certainly reapeth the fruit of the horse-sacrifice. Proceeding then to _Agnidhara_ celebrated over the three worlds, and beholding there after a bath the eternal and boon-giving Vishnu, that god of gods, one obtaineth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Proceeding next to the Grandsire's tank near the snowcapped of mountains, and bathing in it, a man obtains the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Falling from the Grandsire's tank, is that world-sanctifying (stream), celebrated over the three worlds, called _Kumara-Dhara_. Bathing there, one regardeth himself as having all his purposes fulfilled. Fasting in that tirtha for three days, one is even cleansed from the sin of slaying a Brahmana. The pilgrim should next, O virtuous one, proceed to the peak of the great goddess Gauri, famed over the three worlds. Ascending it, O best of men, one should approach _Stana-Kunda_. By touching the waters of _Stana-Kunda_, a person obtaineth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice. Bathing in that _tirtha_ and worshipping the gods and Pitris, one acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice and also ascendeth to the region of Indra. Arriving next at the well of _Tamraruna_, that is frequented by the gods, one acquireth, O lord of men, the merit that attaches to human sacrifice. Bathing next at the confluence of the Kirtika with the Kausiki and the Aruna, and fasting there for three nights a man of learning is cleansed of all his sins. Proceeding next to the _tirtha_ called _Urvasi_, and then to _Somasrama_, a wise man by bathing next at _Kumbhakarnasrama_ becometh adored in the world. The ancients knew that by touching the waters of _Kokamukha_, with steady vows and leading Brahmacharya mode of life, the memory of one's former life is revived. Arriving next with speed to the river called _Nanda_ a regenerate one becometh freed from all his sins and ascendeth with soul under control to Indra's region. Proceeding next to the island called _Rishabha_, that is destructive of cranes, and bathing in the Saraswati, an individual blazeth forth in heaven. Proceeding next to the _tirtha_ called _Auddalaka_ frequented by _Munis_, and bathing there one is cleansed of all his sins. Repairing next to the sacred _tirtha_ called _Dharma_ that is visited by Brahmarshis, one acquireth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice and becometh respected in heaven. Proceeding next to _Champa_ and bathing in the _Bhagirathi_ he that sojourneth to _Dandaparna_, acquireth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Then should one proceed to the sacred _Lalitika_ that is graced by the presence of the virtuous. By this one acquireth the merit of the Rajasuya sacrifice and is regarded in heaven."'" SECTION LXXXV "'Pulastya said, "Arriving next at the excellent _tirtha_ called _Samvedya_ in the evening, and touching its waters, one surely obtaineth knowledge. Created a _tirtha_ in days of yore by Rama's energy, he that proceedeth to _Lauhitya_ obtaineth the merit of giving away gold in abundance. Proceeding next to the river _Karatoya_, and fasting there for three nights, a man acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Even this is the injunction of the Creator himself. It hath been said by the wise, O king, that if a person goeth to the spot where the Ganga mingleth with the sea, he reapeth merit which is ten times that of the horse-sacrifice. Crossing over to the opposite bank of the Ganga, he that batheth there having resided for three nights is, O king, cleansed from all his sins. One should next proceed to the _Vaitarani_ capable of destroying every sin. Arriving next at the _tirtha_ named _Viraja_ one shineth like the moon, and sanctifying his race rescueth it and is himself cleansed of all his sins. He that bathes in _Viraja_ further reapeth the merit of giving away a thousand kine besides sanctifying his line. Residing with purity at the confluence of the _Sona_ and the _Jyotirathi_, and offering oblations of water to the gods and the Pitris, a man reapeth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Touching next the waters of the _Vansagulma_ constituting the sources of both the Sona and the Narmada, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Sojourning next to the _tirtha_ called _Rishabha_ in Kosala, O lord of men, and fasting there for three nights one earneth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice, and of the gift of a thousand kine, and also delivereth his race. Arriving at Kosala, a man should bathe in the _tirtha_ named _Kala_. By this one surely obtaineth the merit of giving away one and ten bulls. By bathing in _Pushpavati_ and fasting there, O king, for three nights one sanctifieth his own race, besides earning the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. Then, O foremost of the Bharata race, by bathing in the _tirtha_ called _Vadarika_, one obtaineth long life, and also goeth to heaven. Arriving next at _Champa_, and bathing in the _Bhagirathi_, and seeing _Danda_ one earneth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Then should one go to the sacred _Lapetika_, graced by the presence of the pious. By so doing one reapeth the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice and also becometh regarded by the gods. Proceeding next to the mountain called _Mahendra_, inhabited (of yore) by Jamadagnya, and bathing in Rama's _tirtha_, a person acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Here is Matanga's _tirtha_ called _Kedara_, O son of the Kuru race! Bathing in it, O foremost of the Kurus, a man obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Going to the mountain _Sree_, one who toucheth the waters of the stream that is there by worshipping there the god having the bull for his mark obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. On the mountain Sree dwelleth happily, the effulgent Mahadeva with the goddess, as also Brahma with the other gods. By bathing in the lake of _Deva_, with purity and restrained mind, one obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and also attaineth to the highest success. "'"Proceeding next to the mountain _Rishabha_ in Pandya, worshipped by the gods, one obtains the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice and rejoices in heaven. One should next proceed to the river Kaveri, frequented by Apsaras. Bathing there, O monarch, one obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Touching next the waters of the _tirtha_ called _Kanya_ on the shores of the sea one is cleansed from every sin. Proceeding next to _Gokarna_ celebrated over the three worlds, and which is situate, O best of kings, in the midst of the deep, and is reverenced by all the worlds, and where the gods headed by Brahma, and Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, and spirits and Yakshas and Pisachas, and Kinnaras and the great Nagas, and Siddhas and Charanas and Gandharvas, and men and Pannagas, and rivers, Seas and Mountains, worship the lord of Uma, one should worship _Isana_, fasting there for three nights. By this, one acquireth the merit of the horse-sacrifice, and the status of _Ganapatya_. By staying there for twelve nights, one's soul is cleansed of all sins. One should next proceed to the _tirtha_ known as _Gayatri_ celebrated over the three worlds. Staying there for three nights, one acquireth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. A strange phenomenon is seen to occur there in respect to Brahmanas, O Lord of men! If a Brahmana, whether born of a Brahmani or any other woman, reciteth the _Gayatri_ there, the recitation becomes rhythmic and musical, while, O king, a person who is not a Brahmana cannot adequately hymn it at all. Proceeding next to the inaccessible tank of the Brahmana Rishi Samvarta, one acquireth personal beauty and prosperity. Repairing next to _Vena_, he that offers oblations of water to the gods and the Pitris, obtains a car drawn by peacocks and cranes. Going next to the _Godavari_, ever frequented by the Siddhas, one earneth the merit of the cow-sacrifice, and goeth to the excellent region of _Vasuki_. Bathing next at the confluence of the _Venna_, one obtains the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice. By a dip next at the confluence of _Varada_, one acquireth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Arriving next at _Brahmasthuna_, one that stayeth there for three nights acquireth the merit of giving away a thousand kine, and also ascendeth to heaven. Coming next to _Kusaplavana_, with subdued soul and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life, and staying there for three nights he that bathes in it obtains the merit of the horse-sacrifice. Bathing next at the romantic _Deva-hrada_ that is supplied by the waters of the Krishna-Venna, and also in the _Jatismara-hrada_, one acquireth the memory of one's former life. It was there that the chief of the celestials celebrated a hundred sacrifices and ascended to heaven. By a visit only to that spot, one acquireth the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. Bathing next in the _Sarvadeva-hrada_, a person obtaineth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Proceeding next to the highly sacred tank called _Payoshni_, that best of waters, he that offers oblations of water to the gods and the Pitris acquires the merit of the gift of a thousand kine. Arriving next at the sacred forest of _Dandaka_, a person should bathe (in the waters) there. By this, O king, one at once obtains, O Bharata, the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Proceeding next to the asylum of _Sarabhanga_ and that of the illustrious Suka, one acquireth immunity from misfortune, besides sanctifying his race. Then should one proceed to _Surparaka_, where Jamadagni's son had formerly dwelt. Bathing in that _tirtha_ of Rama, one acquireth the merit of giving away gold in abundance. Bathing next in the _Saptagadavara_, with the subdued sense and regulated diet, one earneth great merit, and goeth also to the region of the celestials. Proceeding next to _Deva-hrada_, with subdued sense and regulated diet, a man obtaineth the merit of the _Devasatra_ sacrifice. One should proceed next to the forest of _Tungaka_, with subdued senses and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life. It was here that in olden days Muni Saraswata taught the Vedas to the ascetics. When the Vedas had been lost (in consequence of the Munis having forgotten them), Angirasa's son, seated at ease on the upper garments of the Munis (duly spread out), pronounced distinctly and with emphasis the syllable _Om_. And at this, the ascetics again recollected all that they had learnt before. It was there that the Rishis and the gods Varuna, Agni, Prajapati, Narayana also called Hari, Mahadeva and the illustrious Grandsire of great splendour, appointed the resplendent Bhrigu to officiate at a sacrifice. Gratifying Agni by libations of clarified butter poured according to the ordinance, the illustrious Bhrigu once performed the _Agnyadhana_ sacrifice for all those Rishis, after which both they and the gods went away to their respective homes one after another. One who enters the forest of _Tungaka_, is, O best of kings, male or female, cleansed of every sin. There in that _tirtha_, O hero, one should reside for a month, with subdued senses and regulated diet. By this, O king, one ascendeth to the region of Brahma, and delivereth also his race. Arriving next at _Medhavika_, one should offer oblations of water to the gods and the Pitris. By this, one acquires the merit of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice, and also memory and intellect. There in that _tirtha_ is the mountain known over the whole world and called _Kalanjara_. Bathing in the celestial lake that is there, one acquires the merit of giving away a thousand kine. He that, O king, after a bath, offereth oblations (to the gods and the Pitris) on the Kalanjara mountain, is, without doubt, regarded in heaven. Proceeding next, O monarch, to the river _Mandakini_ capable of destroying all sins and which is on that best of mountains called _Chitrakuta_, he that bathes there and worships the gods and the Pitris, obtains the merit of the horse-sacrifice and attains to an exalted state. One should next, O virtuous one, proceed to the excellent _tirtha_ called _Bhartristhana_, where, O king, ever dwells the celestial generalissimo Kartikeya. By a journey only to that spot, a person, O foremost of kings, attaineth to success. Bathing next at the _tirtha_ called _Koti_, one earneth the merit of giving away a thousand kine. Having walked round Koti, one should proceed next to _Jyeshthasthana_. Beholding Mahadeva who is there, one shineth like the moon. There, O mighty monarch, is a celebrated well, O bull of the Bharata race! There in that well, O foremost of warriors, are the four seas. He that bathes there, O foremost of kings, and with subdued soul worships the gods and the Pitris, is cleansed of all his sins and attaineth to an exalted state. Then, O mighty king, should one proceed to the great _Sringaverapura_, where, O foremost of kings, formerly Rama, Dasaratha's son, had crossed (the Ganga). Bathing in that _tirtha_, one, O mighty-armed one, is cleansed of all his sins. Bathing with subdued senses and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life, in the Ganga, one is cleansed of every sin, and obtains also the merit of the _Vajapeya_ sacrifice. One should next proceed to the place called _Mayuravala_, consecrated to Mahadeva of high intelligence. Beholding there the god, bowing down to him and walking round the spot, one acquireth, O Bharata, the _Ganapatya_ status. Bathing in Ganga at that _tirtha_, one is cleansed of all his sins. Then, O king, should one proceed to _Prayaga_, whose praises have been sung by Rishis and where dwell the gods with Brahma at their head, the directions with their presiding deities, the Lokapalas, the Siddhas, the Pitris adored by the worlds, the great Rishis--Sanatkumara and others, stainless Brahmarshis--Angiras and others,--the Nagas, the Suparnas, the Siddhas, the Snakes, the Rivers, the Seas, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, and the Lord Hari with Prajapati. There in that _tirtha_ are three fiery caverns between which the Ganga, that foremost of _tirthas_, rolleth rapidly. There in that region also the world-purifying daughter of the sun, Yamuna, celebrated over the three worlds, uniteth with the Ganga. The country between the Ganga and the Yamuna is regarded as the _mons veneris_ of the world, and Prayaga as the foremost point of that region. The _tirthas Prayaga, Pratisthana, Kamvala, Aswatara_ and _Bhogavati_ are the sacrificial platforms of the Creator. There in those places, O foremost of warriors, the Vedas and the Sacrifices, in embodied forms, and the Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, adore Brahma, and there the gods and rulers of territories also celebrate their sacrifices. The learned, however, say that of all these _tirthas_, O exalted one, Prayaga is the most sacred, in fact, the foremost of all _tirthas_ in the three worlds. By going to that _tirtha_, by singing its praises, or by taking a little earth from it, one is cleansed from every sin. He that bathes in that confluence celebrated over the world, acquires all the merits of the Rajasuya and the horse-sacrifices. This sacrificial place is worshipped by the gods themselves. If a man giveth there ever so little, it increaseth, O Bharata, a thousandfold. O child, let not the texts of the Veda, nor the opinions of men dissuade thy mind from the desire of dying at Prayaga. O son of the Kuru race, the wise say that six hundred million and ten thousand _tirthas_ exist at Prayaga. Bathing in the confluence of Ganga and Yamuna, one obtains the merit that attaches to the four kinds of knowledge and the merits also of those that are truthful. There at Prayaga is the excellent _tirtha_ of _Vasuki_ called _Bhogavati_. He that batheth in it, obtaineth the merit of the horse-sacrifice. There also in the Ganga is the _tirtha_ famed over the three worlds, called _Ramaprapatana_, which conferreth the merit of ten horse-sacrifices, O son of the Kuru race! Wherever may a person bathe in the Ganga, he earneth merit equal to that of a trip to Kurukshetra. An exception, however, is made in favour of _Kanakhala_, while the merit attaching to _Prayaga_ is the greatest. Having committed a hundred sins, he that bathes in the Ganga, hath all his sins washed off by the waters thereof, even as fuel is consumed by fire. It hath been said that in the _Satyayuga_ all the _tirthas_ were sacred; in the _Treta_, Pushkara alone was such; in _Dwapara_, Kurukshetra; and in the _Kali-yuga_, the Ganga alone is sacred. In Pushkara, one should practise austerities; in Mahalaya, one should give away; in the Malaya mountains, one should ascend the funeral pyre; and in Bhrigutunga, one should renounce one's body by forgoing food. Bathing in Pushkara, in Kurukshetra, in the Ganga and in the confluence (of the Ganga and the Yamuna), one sanctifieth seven generations of one's race up and down. He that reciteth the name of the Ganga is purified; while he that beholdeth her, receiveth prosperity; while he that bathes in her and drinks of her waters sanctifieth seven generations of his race up and down. As long, O king, as one's bones lie in contact with the waters of the Ganga, so long doth he live regarded in heaven, even as one liveth in heaven in consequence of the merit he earneth by pious pilgrimages to sacred _tirthas_ and holy spots. There is no _tirtha_ that is like unto the Ganga, there is no god like unto Kesava, and there is none superior to Brahmanas,--this hath been said even by the Grandsire. O great king, the region through which the Ganga flows should be regarded as a sacred asylum, and a spot of land that is on the Ganga's banks, should be regarded as one favourable to the attainment of ascetic success. "'"This truthful description (of the _tirthas_) one should recite only unto the regenerate ones, unto those that are pious, unto one's son and friends and disciples and dependents. This narrative, without a rival, is blessed and holy and leadeth to heaven. Holy and entertaining and sanctifying, it is productive of merit and high worth. Destructive of every sin, it is a mystery that the great Rishis cherish with care. By reciting it in the midst of Brahmanas, one is cleansed of every sin, and ascends to heaven. This description of _tirthas_ is auspicious and heaven-giving and sacred; ever blessed as it is, it destroys one's enemies; foremost of all accounts, it sharpens the intellect. By reading this narrative the sonless obtains sons, the destitute obtains riches, a person of the royal order conquereth the whole earth, the Vaisya cometh by wealth, the Sudra obtaineth all his desires, and the Brahmana crosseth the ocean (of the world). Purifying himself, he that listens daily to the merits of the different _tirthas_, recollects the incidents of many previous births and rejoices in heaven. Of the _tirthas_ that have been recited here, some are easily accessible, while others are difficult of access. But he that is inspired with the desire of beholding all _tirthas_, should visit them even in imagination. Desirous of obtaining merit, the Vasus, and the Sadhyas, the Adityas, the Maruts, the Aswins, and the Rishis equal unto celestials, all bathed in these _tirthas_. Do thou also, O thou of the Kuru race, observing the ordinance as explained by me, visit, with subdued senses, these _tirthas_, increasing thy merit, O thou of excellent vows. Men of piety and learning are able to visit these _tirthas_, by reason of their purified senses, their belief in Godhead, and their acquaintance with the Vedas. He that doth not observe vows, he that hath not his soul under control, he that is impure, he that is a thief, and he that is of crooked mind, doth not, O Kauravya, bathe in _tirthas_. Thou art ever observant of virtue, and art of pure character. By thy virtue, O virtuous one, thou hast always gratified thy father and thy grand-father, and great-grand-fathers, and the gods with Brahma at their head, and the _Rishis_ also, O thou versed in virtue! Thou who resemblest Vasava, thou wilt, O Bhishma, attain to the region of the Vasus, and also eternal fame on earth!"' "Narada continued, 'Having cheerfully spoken thus, the illustrious Rishi Pulastya, well-pleased, bidding Bhishma farewell, disappeared there and then. And Bhishma also, O tiger among men, well understanding the true import of the _Shastras_, wandered over the world at the command of Pulastya. Thus, O thou blessed one, did Bhishma end at Prayaga his highly meritorious journey to the _tirthas_ capable of destroying all sins. The man that ranges the earth in accordance with these injunctions, obtains the highest fruit of a hundred horse-sacrifices and earns salvation hereafter. Thou wilt, O son of Pritha, obtain merit consisting of the eight attributes, even like that which Bhishma, the foremost of the Kurus, had obtained of yore. And as thou wilt lead these ascetics to those _tirthas_, thy merit will be much greater. Those _tirthas_ are infested by Rakshasas, and no one, save thyself, O son of Kuru race, can go there. Rising early he that reciteth this narrative by the celestial Rishis on the subject of the _tirthas_, becometh free from all sins. Those foremost of Rishis, Valmiki, and Kasyapa, and Atreya, and Kundajathara, and Viswamitra, and Gautama, and Asita, and Devala, and Markandeya, and Galava, and Bharadwaja, and Vasishtha, and the _Muni_ Uddalaka, and Saunaka with his son, and Vyasa, that best of ascetics, and Durvasas, that foremost of _Munis_, and Javali of great austerities--all these illustrious _Rishis_ endued with wealth of asceticism, are staying in expectation of thee. With these, O mighty king, do thou meet by visiting these _tirthas_. And, O illustrious monarch, a great Rishi of immeasurable energy, Lomasa by name, will come to thee. Do thou follow him, and me, and by turns visit these _tirthas_, O thou virtuous one! By this, thou wilt acquire great fame, like king Mahabhisha! O tiger among kings, even as the virtuous Yayati and king Pururavas, dost thou blaze forth with thy own virtue. Like king Bhagiratha and the illustrious Rama, dost thou shine among kings even as the Sun himself. And thou art, O great king, celebrated (in the world) even as Muni or Ikshwaku, or the highly famous Puru or Vainya! And as in days of yore the slayer of Vritra, after burning all his foes, ruled the three worlds, his mind freed from anxiety, so wilt thou rule thy subjects, after slaying all thy enemies. And, O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, having conquered the earth according to the customs of thy order, thou wilt obtain renown by thy virtue, even like Kartaviryaryuna.'" Vaisampayana continued, "O great king, having comforted the monarch thus, the illustrious Rishi Narada, bidding farewell to the king, disappeared there and then. And the virtuous Yudhishthira, reflecting upon the subject, began to recite unto the ascetics the merit attaching to _tirthas_!" SECTION LXXXVI Vaisampayana continued, "Having ascertained the opinion of his brothers, and of the intelligent Narada, king Yudhishthira, addressing Dhaumya, who was like unto the Grandsire himself, said, 'I have for the acquisition of arms, sent away that tiger among men, Jishnu, whose prowess is incapable of being baffled, and who is possessed of long arms and immeasurable intelligence. O thou of ascetic wealth, that hero is devoted to me, endued with ability, and well-skilled in weapons, and like unto the exalted Vasudeva himself. I know them both, Krishna and Arjuna, those destroyers of enemies, O Brahmana, endued with prowess, even as the puissant Vyasa knoweth them. I know Vasudeva and Dhananjaya to be none else than Vishnu himself, possessed of the six attributes. And this is also what Narada knoweth, for he hath always spoken so unto me. I also know them to be _Rishis_, Nara and Narayana. Knowing him to possess the ability, I have sent him (on the mission). Not inferior unto Indra and fully competent (for the task), I have sent that son of a god to see the lord of the celestials and obtain weapons from him. Bhishma and Drona are _Atirathas_. Kripa and the son of Drona are invincible; these mighty warriors have been installed by Dhritarashtra's son in the command of his army. All these are versed in the Vedas, are heroic, and possessed of the knowledge of every weapon. Endued with great strength, these always desire to encounter Arjuna in fight. And Karna also of the _Suta_ caste is a mighty warrior versed in celestial weapons. In respect of the impetus of his weapons, he is endued with the strength of the Wind-god. Himself like a flame of fire, the arrows (proceeding from him) constitute its tongues. The slaps of his left hand cased in leathern fence constitute the crackling of that flame. The dust of the battle-field is its smoke. Urged by the sons of Dhritarashtra even as the wind urgeth the fire, Karna like unto the all-consuming fire at the end of the _Yuga_ that is sent by Death himself, will, without doubt, consume my troops like unto a heap of straw. Only that mighty mass of clouds called Arjuna, aided by Krishna like unto a powerful wind, with celestial weapon representing its fierce lightning, the white steeds, the rows of white cranes coursing underneath and the unbearable Gandiva, the rainbow ahead, is capable of extinguishing the blazing flame represented by Karna by means of its arrowy showers let off with unflagging steadiness. That conqueror of hostile cities, Vibhatsu, will, without doubt, succeed in obtaining from Indra himself all the celestial weapons with their fullness and life. Alone he is equal, I think, unto them all. Otherwise it is impossible (for us) to vanquish in fight all those foes, who have attained to eminent success in all their purposes. We shall behold Arjuna, that repressor of foes, fully equipped with celestial weapons, for Vibhatsu having once undertaken a task, never droopeth under its weight. Without that hero, however, that best of men, ourselves, with Krishna, cannot be at rest in Kamyaka. Therefore, do thou mention some other wood that is sacred and delightful, and abounds in food and fruits, and that is inhabited by men of pious practices:--where we may pass some time, expecting the warlike Arjuna of unbaffled prowess, like the _Chataka_ in expectation of gathering clouds. Do thou tell us of some asylums open to the regenerate ones, and lakes and streams and beautiful mountains. O Brahmana, deprived of Arjuna, I do not like to stay in this wood of Kamyaka. We wish to go somewhere else.'" SECTION LXXXVII Vaisampayana said, "Beholding the Pandavas afflicted with anxiety and depressed in spirits, Dhaumya, who resembled Vrihaspati, spake thus, comforting them, 'O bull of the Bharata race, O sinless one, listen to me as I mention certain sacred asylums and regions and _tirthas_ and mountains that are approved of by Brahmanas. O king, listen to me as I speak, thyself with the daughter of Drupada and thy brothers, wilt, O lord of men, be relieved from grief. And, O son of Pandu, by hearing only of these places, thou wilt acquire merit. And by visiting them thou wilt obtain merit a hundred times greater, O best of men! First, O king, I will, so far as I recollect, speak of the beautiful eastern country, much regarded, O Yudhishthira, by royal Rishis. In that direction, O Bharata is a place called Naimisha which is regarded by the celestials. There in that region are several sacred tirthas belonging to the gods. There also is the sacred and beautiful Gomati which is adored by celestial Rishis and there also is the sacrificial region of the gods and the sacrificial stake of Surya. In that quarter also is that best of hills called Gaya, which is sacred and much regarded by royal ascetics. There on that hill, is the auspicious lake called Brahmasara which is adored by celestial Rishis. It is for this that the ancients say that one should wish for many sons, so that even one among them may visit Gaya, celebrate the horse-sacrifice or give away a _nila_ bull, and thereby deliver ten generations of his race up and down. There, O monarch, is a great river, and spot called Gayasira. In Gayasira is a banian, which is called by the Brahmanas the _Eternal_ banian, for the food that is offered there to the Pitris becometh eternal, O exalted one! The great river that floweth by the place is known by the name of Phalgu, and its waters are all sacred. And, O bull among the Bharatas, there also, in that place, is the Kausiki, whose basin abounds in various fruit and roots, and where Viswamitra endued with wealth of asceticism acquired Brahmanahood. Towards that direction also is the sacred Ganga, on whose banks Bhagiratha celebrated many sacrifices with profuse gifts (to Brahmanas). They say that in the country of Panchala, there is a wood called Utpala, where Viswamitra of Kusika's race had performed sacrifices with his son, and where beholding the relics of Viswamitra's superhuman power, Rama, the son of Jamadagni, recited the praises of his ancestry. At Kamyaka, Kusika's son had quaffed the _Soma_ juice with Indra. Then abandoning the Kshatriya order, he began to say, _I am a Brahmana_. In that quarter, O hero is the sacred confluence of Ganga and Yamuna which is celebrated over the world. Holy and sin-destroying, that _tirtha_ is much regarded by the Rishis. It is there that the soul of all things, the Grandsire, had, in olden days, performed his sacrifice, and it is for this, O chief of the Bharata race, that the place hath come to be called Prayaga. In this direction, O foremost of kings, lieth the excellent asylum of Agastya, O monarch, and the forest called Tapasa, decked by many ascetics. And there also is the great _tirtha_ called Hiranyavinda on the Kalanjara hills, and that best of mountains called Agastya, which is beautiful, sacred and auspicious. In that quarter, O descendant of the Kuru race, is the mountain called Mahendra, sacred to the illustrious Rama of the Bhrigu race. There, O son of Kunti, the Grandsire performed sacrifices of yore. There, O Yudhishthira, the sacred Bhagiratha entereth a lake and there also, O king, is that sacred river known by the name of the merit-bestowing Brahmasara, whose banks are inhabited by persons whose sins have been washed away, and whose sight alone produceth merit. In that direction also lieth the high-souled Matanga's excellent asylum, called Kedara which is sacred and auspicious and celebrated over the world. And there also is the mountain called Kundoda, which is so delightful and abounding in fruits and roots and waters, and where the king of the Nishadhas (Nala) had slaked his thirst and rested for a while. In that quarter also is the delightful Deva-vana which is graced by ascetics. There also are the rivers Vahuda and Nanda on the mountain's crest. O mighty king, I have described unto thee all the _tirthas_ and sacred spots in the Eastern quarter. Do thou now hear of the sacred _tirthas_, and rivers and mountains and holy spots in the other three quarters!'" SECTION LXXXVIII "Dhaumya continued, 'Listen, O Bharata, I shall now narrate to thee in detail according to my knowledge, the sacred _tirthas_ of the south. In that quarter lieth the sacred and auspicious river Godavari, full of water abounding in groves and frequented by ascetics. In that direction also are the rivers Venna and Bhimarathi, both capable of destroying sin and fear, and abounding in birds and deer, and graced with abodes of ascetics. In that region also, O bull of the Bharata race, is the _tirtha_ of the royal ascetic, Nriga _viz_., the river Payoshni, which is delightful and full of waters and visited by Brahmanas. There the illustrious Markandeya, of high ascetic merit sang the praises in verse of king Nriga's line. We have heard respecting the sacrificing king Nriga that which really took place while he was performing a sacrifice in the excellent _tirtha_ called Varaha on the Payoshni. In that sacrifice Indra became intoxicated with quaffing the _Soma_, and the Brahmanas, with the gifts they received. The water of the Payoshni, taken up (in vessel), or flowing along the ground, or conveyed by the wind, can cleanse a person from whatever sins he may commit till the day of his death. Higher than heaven itself, and pure, and created and bestowed by the trident-bearing god, there in that _tirtha_ is an image of Mahadeva beholding which a mortal goeth to the region of Siva. Placing on one scale Ganga and the other rivers with their waters, and on the other, the Payoshni, the latter, in my opinion would be superior to all the _tirthas_, together, in point of merit! Then, O foremost of the Bharata race, on the mountain called Varunasrotasa is the sacred and auspicious wood of Mathara abounding in fruits and roots, and containing a sacrificial stake. Then, O king, it is said that in the region on the north of the Praveni, and about the sacred asylum of Kanwa, are many woody retreats of ascetics. And, O child, in the _tirtha_ called Surparaka are two sacrificial platforms of the illustrious Jamadagni, called Pashana and Punaschandra, O Bharata! And, O son of Kunti, in that spot is the _tirtha_ called Asoka abounding in woody retreats of ascetics. And, O Yudhishthira, in the country of the Pandyas are the _tirthas_ named Agastya and Varuna! And, O bull among men, there, amongst the Pandavas, is the _tirtha_ called the Kumaris. Listen, O son of Kunti, I shall now describe Tamraparni. In that asylum the gods had undergone penances impelled by the desire of obtaining salvation. In that region also is the lake of Gokarna which is celebrated over the three worlds, hath an abundance of cool waters, and is sacred, auspicious, and capable, O child, of producing great merit. That lake is extremely difficult of access to men of unpurified souls. Near to that _tirtha_ is the sacred asylum of Agastya's disciple, the mountain Devasabha, which abounds in trees and grass, and fruits and roots. And there also is the Vaiduryya mountain, which is delightful abounding in gems and capable of bestowing great merit. There on that mountain is the asylum of Agastya abounding in fruits and roots and water. "'I shall now, O lord of men, describe the sacred spots, and asylums, and rivers and lakes belonging to the Surashtra country! O Yudhishthira, the Brahmanas say that on the sea-coast is the Chamasodbheda, and also Prabhasa, that _tirtha_ which is much regarded by the gods. There also is the _tirtha_ called Pindaraka, frequented by ascetics and capable of producing great merit. In that region is a mighty hill named Ujjayanta which conduceth to speedy success. Regarding it the celestial _Rishi_ Narada of great intelligence hath recited an ancient _sloka_. Do thou listen to it, O Yudhishthira! By performing austerities on the sacred hill of Ujjayanta in Surashtra, that abounds in birds and animals, a person becometh regarded in heaven. There also is Dwaravati, producing great merit, where dwelleth the slayer of Madhu, who is the Ancient one in embodied form, and eternal virtue. Brahmanas versed in the Vedas, and persons acquainted with the philosophy of the soul say that the illustrious Krishna is eternal Virtue. Govinda is said to be the purest of all pure things, the righteous of the righteous and the auspicious of the auspicious. In all the three worlds, He of eyes like lotus-leaves is the God of gods, and is eternal. He is the pure soul and the active principle of life, is the Supreme _Brahma_ and is the lord of all. That slayer of Madhu, Hari of inconceivable soul, dwelleth there!'" SECTION LXXXIX "Dhaumya continued, 'I shall describe to thee those sacred spots capable of producing merit that lie on the west. In the country of the Anarttas, O Bharata, there flows in a westward course the sacred river Narmada, graced by _Priyangu_ and mango trees, and engarlanded with thickest of canes. All the _tirthas_ and sacred spots, and rivers and woods and foremost of mountains that are in the three worlds, all the gods with the Grandsire, along with the Siddhas, the Rishis and the Charanas, O best of the Kurus, always come, O Bharata, to bathe in the sacred waters of the Narmada. And it hath been heard by us that the sacred asylum of the Muni Visravas, had stood there, and that there was born the lord of treasures, Kuvera, having men for his vehicles. There also is that foremost of hills, the sacred and auspicious Vaidurya peak abounding with trees that are green and which are always graced with fruit and flowers. O lord of the earth, on the top of that mountain is a sacred tank decked with full-blown lotus and resorted to by the gods and the Gandharvas. Many are the wonders, O mighty monarch, that may be seen on that sacred mountain which is like unto heaven itself and which is visited by celestial Rishis. There, O subjugator of hostile cities, is the sacred river called Viswamitra belonging to the royal sage of that name and which abounds, O king, in many sacred _tirthas_. It was on the banks of this river, that Yayati, the son of Nahusha, (fell from heaven) among the virtuous, and obtained once more the eternal regions of the righteous. Here also are the well-known lake called _Punya_, the mountain called Mainaka, and that other mountain called Asita abounding in fruits and roots. And here also is the sacred asylum of Kakshasena, and O Yudhishthira, the asylum of Chyavana also, which is famed over every country, O son of Pandu! In that spot, O exalted one, men attain to (ascetic) success without severe austerities. Here also, O mighty king, is the region called Jamvumarga, inhabited by birds and deer, and which constitutes the retreat of ascetics with souls under control, O thou foremost of those that have subdued their senses! Next lie the exceedingly sacred Ketumala, and Medhya ever graced with ascetics, and, O lord of earth, Gangadwara, and the well-known woods of Saindhava which are sacred and inhabited by the regenerate ones. There also is the celebrated tank of the Grandsire, called Pushkara, the favourite abode of the Vaikanasas, and Siddhas and Rishis. Moved by the desire of obtaining its protection, the Creator sang this verse at Pushkara, O chief of the Kurus and foremost of virtuous men! If a person of pure soul purposes a pilgrimage to the Pushkaras in imagination even, he becometh purged from all his sins and rejoiceth in heaven!'" SECTION XC "Dhaumya continued, 'O tiger among kings, I shall now describe those _tirthas_ and sacred spots that lie to the north. Do thou, O exalted one, listen to me attentively. By hearing this narration, O hero, one acquireth a reverential frame of mind, which conduceth to much good. In that region is the highly sacred Saraswati abounding in _tirthas_ and with banks easy of descent. There also, O son of Pandu, is the ocean-going and impetuous Yamuna, and the _tirtha_ called Plakshavatarana, productive of high merit and prosperity. It was there that the regenerate ones having performed the _Saraswata_ sacrifice, bathed on the completion thereof, O sinless one, in the well-known celestial _tirtha_ called Agnisiras, which is productive of great merit. There king Sahadeva had celebrated a sacrifice measuring out the ground by a throw of the _Samya_. It is for this reason, O Yudhishthira, that Indra sang the praises of Sahadeva in verse. Those verses are still current in this world, being recited by the regenerate ones, e.g., _on the Yamuna Sahadeva worshipped the sacrificial fire, with gifts in a hundred thousands to Brahmanas_. There the illustrious king, the imperial Bharata, performed five and thirty horse-sacrifices. O child, we have heard that Sarabhanga of yore used to fully gratify the desires of the regenerate ones. There in this region is his celebrated asylum productive of great merit. In that region also, O son of Pritha, is the river Saraswati, which is ever worshipped by the god, where, in days of yore, the Valikhilyas, O great king, performed sacrifices. In that region also, O Yudhishthira, is the well-known river Drisadwati, which is productive of great merit. Then, O chief of men, are Nyagrodhakhya, and Panchalya, and Punyaka and Dalbhyaghosha, and Dalbhya, which are, O son of Kunti, the sacred asylum in the world of illustrious Anandayasas of excellent vows and great energy, and which are celebrated over the three worlds. Here also, O lord of men, the illustrious Etavarna and Avavarana versed in the Vedas, learned in Vedic lore, and proficient in the knowledge of Vedic rites, performed meritorious sacrifices, O chief of the Bharata race! There also is Visakhayupa to which, in days of yore, came the gods with Varuna and Indra, and practised ascetic austerities. And therefore is that spot so eminently sacred. Here also is Palasaka, where the great and illustrious and highly blessed Rishi Jamadagni performed sacrifices. There all the principal rivers in their embodied forms taking their respective waters stood surrounding that best of sages. And there also, O monarch, Vibhavasu (fire) himself, beholding that high-souled one's initiation, sang the following _sloka: "The river coming to the illustrious Jamadagni while sacrificing unto the gods gratified the Brahmanas with offerings of honey."_ O Yudhishthira, the spot where Ganga rusheth past, cleaving the foremost of mountains which is frequented by Gandharvas and Yakshas and Rakshasas and Apsaras, and inhabited by hunters, and Kinnaras, is called Gangadwara. O king, Sanatkumara regardeth that spot visited by Brahmarshis, as also the _tirtha_ Kanakhala (that is near to it), as sacred. There also is the mountain named Puru which is resorted to by great Rishis and where Pururavas was born, and Bhrigu practised ascetic austerities. For this it is, O king, that asylum hath become known as the great peak of Bhrigutunga. Near that peak is the sacred and extensive Vadari, that highly meritorious asylum, famed over the three worlds, of him, O bull of the Bharata race, who is the Present, the Past and the Future, who is called Narayana and the lord Vishnu, who is eternal and the best of male beings, and who is pre-eminently illustrious. Near Vadari, the cool current of Ganga was formerly warm, and the banks there were overspread with golden sands. There the gods and Rishis of high fortune and exceeding effulgence, approaching the divine lord Narayana, always worship him. The entire universe with all its _tirthas_ and holy spots is there where dwelleth the divine and eternal Narayana, the Supreme soul, for he is Merit, he is the Supreme _Brahma_, he is _tirtha_, he is the ascetic retreat, he is the First, he is the foremost of gods, and he is the great Lord of all creatures. He is eternal, he is the great Creator, and he is the highest state of blessedness. Learned persons versed in the scriptures attain to great happiness by knowing him. In that spot are the celestial Rishis, the Siddhas, and, indeed, all the Rishis,--where dwelleth the slayer of Madhu, that primeval Deity and mighty Yogin! Let no doubt enter thy heart that that spot is the foremost of all holy spots. These, O lord of earth, are the _tirthas_ and sacred spots on earth, that I have recited, O best of men! These all are visited by the Vasus, the Sadhyas, the Adityas, the Marutas, the Aswins and the illustrious Rishis resembling the celestials themselves. By journeying, O son of Kunti, to those places, with the Brahmanas and ascetics that are with thee and with thy blessed brothers, thou wilt be freed from anxiety!'" SECTION XCI Vaisampayana continued, "O son of the Kuru race, while Dhaumya was speaking thus, there arrived at the spot the Rishi Lomasa of great energy. And the king, who was the eldest of Pandu's sons, with his followers and those Brahmanas sat round the highly righteous one, like celestials in heaven sitting round Sakra. And having received him duly, Yudhishthira the just enquired after the reason of his arrival, and the object also of his wanderings. Thus asked by Pandu's son, the illustrious ascetic, well-pleased, replied in sweet words delighting the Pandayas, 'Travelling at will, O Kaunteya, over all the regions, I came to Sakra's abode, and saw there the lord of the celestials. There, I saw thy heroic brother capable of wielding the bow with his left hand, seated on the same seat with Sakra. And beholding Partha on that seat I was greatly astonished, O tiger among men! And the lord of the celestials then said unto me, "_Go thou unto the sons of Pandu_." At the request, therefore, of Indra as also of the high-souled son of Pritha have I come hither with speed, desiring to see thee with thy younger brothers. O child, I will relate what will please thee highly, O son of Pandu! Do thou listen to it, O king, with Krishna and the Rishis that are with thee. O bull of the Bharata race, Partha hath obtained from Rudra that incomparable weapon for the acquisition of which thou hadst sent him to heaven. That fierce weapon, known by the name of _Brahma-sira_ which arose after _Amrila_, and which Rudra had obtained by means of ascetic austerities, hath been acquired by Arjuna together with the _Mantras_ for hurling and withdrawing it, and the rites of expiation and revival. And, O Yudhishthira, Arjuna of immeasurable prowess hath also acquired Vajras and _Dandas_ and other celestial weapons from Yama and Kuvera and Varuna and Indra, O son of the Kuru race! And he hath also thoroughly learnt music, both vocal and instrumental, and dancing and proper recitation of the _Saman_ (Veda) from Vishwavasu's son. And having thus acquired weapons and mastered the _Gandhama Veda_, thy third brother Vibhatsu liveth happily (in heaven). Listen to me, O Yudhishthira, for I shall now deliver to thee the message of that foremost of celestials. He hath commanded me saying, "Thou wilt, no doubt, go to the world of men. O best of Brahmanas, tell thou Yudhishthira these words of mine. Soon will thy brother Arjuna come to thee, having acquired arms and accomplished a great deed for the celestials that is incapable of being accomplished by themselves. Do thou meanwhile devote thyself to ascetic austerities, with thy brothers. There is nothing superior to asceticism, and it is by asceticism that a person achieveth great results. And, O bull of the Bharata race, well do I know that Karna is endued with great ardour and energy and strength and prowess that is incapable of being baffled. Well do I know that, skilled in fierce conflict, he hath not his rival in battle; that he is a mighty bowman, a hero deft in the use of fierce weapons and cased in the best of mail. Well do I know that that exalted son of Aditya resembleth the son of Maheswara himself. Well do I also know the high natural prowess of the broad-shouldered Arjuna. In battle Karna is not equal unto even a sixteenth part of Pritha's son. And as for the fear of Karna which is in thy heart, O repressor of foes, I shall dispel when Savyasachin will have left heaven. And as regards thy purpose, O hero, to set out on a pilgrimage to _tirthas_, the great Rishi Lomasa will, without doubt, speak unto thee. And whatever that regenerate Rishi will relate unto thee touching the merits of asceticism and _tirthas_, thou shouldst receive with respect and not otherwise!"'" SECTION XCII "Lomasa continued, 'Listen now, O Yudhishthira, to what Dhananjaya hath said: "Cause my brother Yudhishthira to attend to the practice of virtue which leadeth to prosperity. Endued with wealth of asceticism, thou art conversant with the highest morality, with ascetic austerities of every kind, with the eternal duties of kings blessed with prosperity, and the high and sanctifying merit that men obtain from _tirthas_. Persuade thou the sons of Pandu to acquire the merit attaching to _tirthas_. Do thou with thy whole soul persuade the king to visit the _tirthas_ and give away kine." This is what Arjuna said unto me. Indeed he also said, "Let him visit all the _tirthas_ protected by thee. Thou wilt also protect him from Rakshasas, and watch over him in inaccessible regions and rugged mountain breasts. And as Dadhichi had protected Indra, and Angiras had protected the Sun, so do thou, O best of regenerate ones, protect the sons of Kunti from Rakshasas. Along the way are many Rakshasas, huge as mountain-cliffs. But protected by thee these will not be able to approach the sons of Kunti." Obedient to the words of Indra and at the request of Arjuna also protecting thee from dangers, I shall wander with thee. Before this, O son of the Kuru race, I have twice visited the _tirthas_. With thee I shall repair to them for the third time. O Yudhishthira, Manu and other royal _Rishis_ of meritorious deeds had undertaken journeys to _tirthas_. Indeed, a trip to them is capable of dispelling all fear, O king! They that are crooked-minded, they that have not their souls under control, they that are illiterate and perverse, do not, O Kauravya, bathe in _tirthas_. But thou art ever of a virtuous disposition and conversant with morality and firm in thy promises. Thou wilt surely be able to free thyself from the world. For, O son of Pandu, thou art even as king Bhagiratha, or Gaya, or Yayati, or any one, O son of Kunti, that is like them.' "Yudhishthira answered, 'I am so overwhelmed with delight, O Brahmana, that I cannot find words to answer thee. Who can be more fortunate than he who is remembered even by the lord of the celestials? Who can be more fortunate than he who hath been favoured with thy company, who hath Dhananjaya for a brother, and who is thought of by Vasava himself? As to thy words, O illustrious one, in respect of a trip to the _tirthas_, my mind had already been made up at the words of Dhaumya. O Brahmana, I shall start, at whatever hour thou mayst be pleased to appoint, on the proposed journey to _tirthas_. Even this is my firm resolve!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Lomasa then said unto Yudhishthira, who had made up his mind to start on the proposed journey, 'O mighty king, be thou light as regards thy retinue, for by this thou wilt be able to go more easily!' "Yudhishthira then said, 'Let those mendicants and Brahmanas and _Yogis_ that are incapable of bearing hunger and thirst, the fatigues of travel and toil, and the severity of winter, desist. Let those Brahmanas also desist that live on sweetmeats, and they also that desire cooked viands and food that is sucked or drunk as well as meat. And let those also remain behind that are dependent on cooks. Let those citizens that have followed me from motives of loyalty, and whom I have hitherto kept on proper stipends, repair to king Dhritarashtra. He will give them their allowances in due time. If, however, that king refuses to grant them proper allowances, the king of the Panchalas will, for our satisfaction and welfare, give them these.'" Vaisampayana continued, "And thereupon oppressed with grief, the citizens and the principal Brahmanas and Yatis set out for Hastinapura. And out of affection for Yudhishthira the just, the royal son of Amvika received them properly, and gratified them with proper allowances. And the royal son of Kunti, with only a small number of Brahmanas, abode for three nights at Kamyaka, cheered by Lomasa." SECTION XCIII Vaisampayana said, "Those Brahmanas then, that had been dwelling (with him) in the woods, beholding the son of Kunti about to set out (on the pious pilgrimage), approached him, O king, and said, 'Thou art about to set out, O king, on thy journey to the sacred _tirthas_, along with thy brothers and accompanied by the illustrious Rishi Lomasa. O king, it behoveth thee, O son of Pandu, to take us with thee. Without thee, we shall not be able, O son of the Kuru race, to visit them at any time. Surrounded by dangers and difficult of access, they are infested by beasts of prey. Those _tirthas_, O lord of men, are inaccessible to persons in small parties. Foremost of all wielders of the bow, thy brothers are ever brave. Protected by your heroic selves, we also would proceed to them. Permit us to acquire, O lord of earth, through thy grace the blessed fruit of _tirthas_. Protected by thy energy, let us, O king, be cleansed of all our sins by visiting those _tirthas_ and purified by baths therein. Bathing in those _tirthas_, thou also, O Bharata, wilt acquire without doubt the regions difficult of acquisition that Kartavirya and Ashtaka, the royal sage Lomapada and the imperial and heroic Bharata only had earned. In thy company, O king, we desire to behold Prabhasa and other _tirthas_, Mahendra and other hills, Ganga and other rivers, and Plaksha and other gigantic trees. If, O lord of men, thou hast any regard for the Brahmanas, do thou our bidding. Thou wilt surely have prosperity from this. O thou of mighty arms, the _tirthas_ are infested by Rakshasas that ever obstruct ascetic penances. It behoveth thee to protect us from them. Protected by Lomasa and taking us with thee, go thou to all the _tirthas_ spoken of by Dhaumya and the intelligent Narada, as also all those that have been spoken of by the celestial Rishi Lomasa, endued with great ascetic wealth, and be thou, by this, cleansed of all thy sins.' "Thus addressed respectfully by them, the king--that bull amongst the sons of Pandu--surrounded by his heroic brothers headed by Bhima, with tears of joy in his eyes, said unto all those ascetics, 'Let it be so.' With the permission then of Lomasa, as also of his priest Dhaumya, that foremost of Pandu's sons with soul under complete control, resolved, along with his brothers and Drupada's daughter of faultless features, to set out. Just at this time, the blessed Vyasa, as also Parvata and Narada, all endued with high intelligence, came to Kamyaka for seeing the son of Pandu. Beholding them, king Yudhishthira worshipped them with due rites. And worshipped by the monarch thus, those blessed ones, addressing Yudhishthira, said, 'O Yudhishthira, O Bhima, and ye twins, banish all evil thoughts from your minds. Purify your hearts and then set out for the _tirthas_. The Brahmanas have said that the observance of regulations in respect of the body are called earthly vows, while efforts to purify the heart, so that it may be free from evil thoughts, are called spiritual vows. O king, the mind that is free from all evil thoughts is highly pure. Purifying yourselves, therefore, harbouring only friendly feelings for all, behold ye the _tirthas_. Observing earthly vows in respect of your bodies and purifying your minds by spiritual vows, obtain ye the fruits as recited, of pilgrimages.' "Saying, 'So be it,' the Pandavas with Krishna, caused those celestial and human Rishis to perform the usual propitiatory ceremonies. And those heroes, having worshipped the feet of Lomasa and Dwaipayana and Narada and the celestial Rishi Parvata, O king, and accompanied by Dhaumya as also the ascetics that had been residing with them in the woods, set out on the day following the full moon of _Agrahayana_ in which the constellation _Pushya_ was ascendant. Dressed in barks and hides, and with matted lock on head, they were all cased in impenetrable mail and armed with swords. And O Janamejaya, the heroic sons of Pandu with quivers and arrows and scimitars and other weapons, and accompanied by Indrasena and other attendants with fourteen and one cars, a number of cooks and servants of other classes, set out with faces turned towards the east!" SECTION XCIV "Yudhishthira said, 'O best of celestial Rishis, I do not think that I am without merits. Yet am I afflicted with so much sorrow that there never was a king like me. I think, however, that my enemies are destitute of good qualities and even destitute of morality. Yet why, O Lomasa, do they prosper in this world?' "Lomasa said, 'Grieve not ever, O king, O son of Pritha, that sinful men should often prosper in consequence of the sins they commit. A man may be seen to prosper by his sins, obtain good therefrom and vanquish his foes. Destruction, however, overtakes him to the roots. O king, I have seen many Daityas and Danavas prosper by sin but I have also seen destruction overtake them. O exalted one, I have seen all this in the righteous age of yore. The gods practised virtue, while the Asuras abandoned it. The gods visited the _tirthas_, while the Asuras did not visit them. And at first the sinful Asuras were possessed with pride. And pride begat vanity and vanity begat wrath. And from wrath arose every kind of evil propensities, and from these latter sprang shamelessness. And in consequence of shamelessness, good behaviour disappeared from among them. And because they had become shameless and destitute of virtuous propensities and good conduct and virtuous vows, forgiveness and prosperity and morality forsook them in no time. And prosperity then, O king, sought the gods, while adversity sought the Asuras. And when the Daityas and the Danavas, deprived of sense by pride, were possessed by adversity, Kali also sought to possess them. And, O son of Kunti, overwhelmed with pride, and destitute of rites and sacrifices, and devoid of reason and feeling, and their hearts full of vanity, destruction overtook them soon. And covered with infamy, the Daityas were soon exterminated. The gods, however, who were virtuous in their practices, going to the seas, the rivers, the lakes and the holy spots, cleansed themselves of all sins, O son of Pandu, by means of ascetic penances and sacrifices and gifts and blessings, and obtained prosperity and the consequence. And because the gods always performed sacrifices and holy deeds abandoning every practice that was evil, and visited the _tirthas_, as the consequence thereof they acquired great good fortune. Guided by this, O king, do thou also, with thy brothers, bathe in _tirthas_, for then thou wilt obtain prosperity once more. Even this is the eternal road. And, O monarch, as king Nriga and Shivi and Ausinara and Bhagiratha and Vasumanas and Gaya and Puru and Pururavas, by practising ascetic penances and visiting _tirthas_ and touching sacred waters and beholding illustrious ascetics, obtained fame and sanctity and merit and wealth, so wilt thou also obtain prosperity that is great. And as Ikshwaku with his sons, friends and followers, as Muchukunda and Mandhatri and king Marutta, as the gods through power of asceticism and the celestial Rishis also, had all obtained fame, so wilt thou also obtain great celebrity. The sons of Dhritarashtra, on the other hand, enslaved by sinfulness and ignorance, will, without doubt, be soon exterminated like the Daityas.'" SECTION XCV Vaisampayana said, "The heroic sons of Pandu, accompanied by their followers, proceeding from place to place, at last arrived at Naimisha. O king, reaching the Gomati, the Pandavas bathed in the sacred _tirtha_ of that stream, and having performed their ablutions there, they gave away, O Bharata, both kine and wealth! And repeatedly offering oblations of water, O Bharata, to the gods, the pitris, and the Brahmanas, in the _tirthas_ called Kanya, Aswa, and Go and staying (as directed) in Kalakoti and the Vishaprastha hills, the Kauravas then, O king, reached Vahuda and performed their ablution in that stream. Proceeding next, O lord of earth, to the sacrificial region of the gods known by the name Prayaga, they bathed in the confluence of Ganga and Yamuna and residing there practised ascetic penances of great merit. And the Pandavas, of truthful promises, bathing in the _tirtha_, cleansed themselves of every sin. The sons of Pandu then, O king of the Bharata race, accompanied by those Brahmanas, proceeded to the _tirtha_ called _Vedi_, sacred to the Creator and adored by the ascetics. Residing there for some time and gratifying the Brahmanas with the fruit and roots of the wilderness and clarified butter, those heroes began to practise ascetic penances of great merit. They then proceeded to Mahidhara consecrated by that virtuous royal sage Gaya of unrivalled splendour. In that region is the hill called Gayasira, as well as the delightful river called Mahanadi, with fine banks graced by bushes of canes. On that celestial hill of holy peaks is a sacred _tirtha_ called _Brahmasara_ which is much adored by ascetics. There on the banks of that lake had dwelt of yore the eternal god himself of justice, and it was thither that the illustrious Rishi Agastya had repaired to behold that deity. It is from that lake that all the rivers take their rise and there in that _tirtha_, Mahadeva the wielder of the _Pinaka_, is present for aye. Arriving at that spot, the heroic sons of Pandu practised the vow that is known by the name of the _Chaturmasya_ according to all the rites and ordinances of the great sacrifice called _Rishiyajna_. It is there that that mighty tree called the Eternal banian stands. Any sacrifice performed there produces merit that is eternal. In that sacrificial platform of the gods producing eternal merit, the Pandavas began to fast with concentrated souls. And there came unto them Brahmanas by hundreds endued with wealth of asceticism. And those Brahmanas also all performed the _Chaturmasya_ sacrifice according to the rites inculcated by the Rishis. And there in that _tirtha_, those Brahmanas old in knowledge and ascetic merit and fully versed in the Vedas, that constituted the court of the illustrious sons of Pandu, talked in their presence upon various subjects of sacred import. And it was in that place that the learned vow-observing, and sacred Shamatha, leading, besides, a life of celibacy, spake unto them, O king, of Gaya, the son of Amurttaraya. And Shamatha said, 'Gaya, the son of Amurttaraya, was one of the foremost of royal sages. Listen to me, O Bharata, as I recite his meritorious deeds. It was here, O king, that Gaya had performed many sacrifices distinguished by the enormous quantities of food (that were distributed) and the profuse gifts that were given away (unto Brahmanas). Those sacrifices, O king, were distinguished by mountains in hundreds and thousands of cooked rice, lakes of clarified butter and rivers of curds in many hundreds, and streams of richly-dressed curries in thousands. Day after day were these got ready and distributed amongst all comers, while, over and above this, Brahmanas and others, O king, received food that was clean and pure. During the conclusion also (of every sacrifice) when gifts were dedicated to the Brahmanas, the chanting of the Vedas reached the heavens. And so loud, indeed, was the sound of the Vedic _Mantras_ that nothing else, O Bharata, could be heard there. Thus sacred sounds, O king, filled the earth, the points of the horizon, the sky and heaven itself. Even these were the wonders that persons noticed on those occasions. And gratified with the excellent viands and drinks that the illustrious Gaya provided, men, O bull of the Bharata race, went about singing these verses. In Gaya's great sacrifice, who is there today, amongst creatures, that still desireth to eat? There are yet twenty-five mountains of food there after all have been fed! What the royal sage Gaya of immense splendour hath achieved in his sacrifice was never achieved by men before, nor will be by any in future. The gods have been so surfeited by Gaya with clarified butter that they are not able to take anything that anybody else may offer. As sand grains on earth, as stars in the firmament, as drops showered by rain-charged clouds, cannot ever be counted by anybody, so can none count the gifts in Gaya's sacrifice! "'O son of the Kuru race, many times did king Gaya perform sacrifices of this description, here, by the side of this Brahmasara!'" SECTION XCVI Vaisampayana said, "After this the royal son of Kunti who was ever distinguished for his profuse gifts unto Brahmanas, proceeded to the asylum of Agastya and took up his abode in Durjaya. It was here that that foremost of speakers, king Yudhishthira asked Lomasa as to why Agastya had slain Vatapi there. And the king also enquired after the extent of that man-destroying Daitya's prowess, and the reason also of the illustrious Agastya's wrath being excited against that Asura. "Thus questioned, Lomasa said, 'O son of Kuru race, there was in the city called Manimati, in days of yore, a Daitya named Ilwala, whose younger brother was Vatapi. One day that son of Diti addressed the Brahmana endued with ascetic merit, saying, "O holy one, grant me a son equal unto Indra." The Brahmana, however, did not grant the Asura a son like Indra. And at this, the Asura was inflamed with wrath against the Brahmana. And from that day, O king, the Asura Ilwala became a destroyer of Brahmanas. And endued with power of illusion the angry Asura transformed his brother into a ram. And Vatapi also capable of assuming any form at will, would immediately assume the shape of a ram. And the flesh of that ram, after being properly dressed, was offered to Brahmanas as food. And after they had eaten of it, they were slain. For whomsoever Ilwala summoned with his voice, he would come back to Ilwala even if he had gone to the abode of Yama, in re-embodied form endued with life, and show himself to Ilwala. And so having transformed the Asura Vatapi into a ram and properly cooked his flesh and feeding Brahmanas therewith, he would summon Vatapi. And the mighty Asura Vatapi, that foe of Brahmanas, endued with great strength and power of illusion, hearing, O king, those sounds uttered with a loud voice by Ilwala, and ripping open the flanks of the Brahmana would come laughingly out, O lord of earth! And it was thus, O monarch, that the wicked-hearted Daitya Ilwala, having fed Brahmanas, frequently took away their lives. "'Meanwhile, the illustrious Agastya beheld his deceased ancestors hanging in a pit with heads downwards. And he asked those personages thus suspended in that hole, saying, "_What is the matter with you?_" Thus questioned those utterers of _Brahma_ replied, "It is even for offspring." And they also told him, "We are your ancestors. It is even for offspring that we stay suspended in this pit. If, O Agastya, thou canst beget us a good son, we may then be saved from this hell and thou also wilt obtain thy blessed state of those having offspring." Endued with great energy and observant of truth and morality Agastya replied, saying, "Ye Pitris, I will accomplish your desire. Let this anxiety of yours be dispelled." And the illustrious Rishi then began to think of perpetuating his race. But he saw not a wife worthy of him on whom he himself could take his birth in the form of a son. The Rishi accordingly, taking those parts that were regarded as highly beautiful, from creatures possessing them, created therewith an excellent woman. And the Muni, endued with great ascetic merit, thereupon gave that girl created for himself to the king of the Vidharbhas who was then undergoing ascetic penances for obtaining offspring. And that blessed girl of sweet face (thus disposed of) then took her birth (in Vidarbha's royal line) and, beautiful as the effulgent lightning, her limbs began to grow day by day. And as soon as that lord of earth--the ruler of the Vidarbhas--saw her ushered into life, he joyfully communicated the intelligence, O Bharata, unto the Brahmanas. And the Brahmanas thereupon, O lord of earth, blessed the girl and they bestowed upon her the name Lopamudra. And possessed of great beauty, she began, O monarch, to grow quickly like unto a lotus in the midst of water or the effulgent flame of a fire. And when the girl grew and attained to puberty, a hundred virgins decked in ornaments and a hundred maids waited in obedience upon her blessed self. And surrounded by those hundred maids and virgins, she shone in their midst, endued as she was with bright effulgence, like Rohini in the firmament amid an inferior multitude of stars. And possessed as she was of good behaviour and excellent manners, none dared ask for her hand even when she attained to puberty, through fear of her father, the king of the Vidharbhas. And Lopamudra, devoted to truth, surpassing the Apsaras even in beauty, gratified her father and relatives by means of her conduct. And her father, beholding his daughter--the princess of Vidharbha--attain to puberty, began to reflect in his mind, saying, "To whom should I give this daughter of mine?"'" SECTION XCVII "Lomasa continued, 'When Agastya thought that girl to be competent for the duties of domesticity, he approached that lord of earth--the ruler of Vidharbhas--and addressing him, said, "I solicit thee, O king, to bestow thy daughter Lopamudra on me." Thus addressed by the Muni, the king of the Vidharbhas swooned away. And though unwilling to give the Muni his daughter, he dared not refuse. And that lord of earth then, approaching his queen, said, "This Rishi is endued with great energy. If angry, he may consume me with the fire of his curse. O thou of sweet face, tell me what is thy wish." Hearing these words of the king, she uttered not a word. And beholding the king along with the queen afflicted with sorrow, Lopamudra approached them in due time and said, "O monarch, it behoveth thee not to grieve on my account. Bestow me on Agastya, and, O father, save thyself, by giving me away." And at these words of his daughter, O monarch, the king gave away Lopamudra unto the illustrious Agastya with due rites. And obtaining her as wife, Agastya addressed Lopamudra, saying, "Cast thou away these costly robes and ornaments." And at these words of her lord, that large-eyed damsel of thighs tapering as the stem of the plantain tree cast away her handsome and costly robes of fine texture. And casting them away she dressed herself in rags and barks and deerskins, and became her husband's equal in vows and acts. And proceeding then to Gangadwara that illustrious and best of Rishis began to practise the severest penances along with his helpful wife. And Lopamudra herself, well pleased, began to serve her lord from the deep respect that she bore him. And the exalted Agastya also began to manifest great love for his wife. "'After a considerable time, O king, the illustrious Rishi one day beheld Lopamudra, blazing in ascetic splendour come up after the bath in her season. And pleased with the girl, for her services, her purity, and self control, as also with her grace and beauty, he summoned her for marital intercourse. The girl, however, joining her hands, bashfully but lovingly addressed the Rishi, saying, "The husband, without doubt, weddeth the wife for offspring. But it behoveth thee, O Rishi, to show that love to me which I have for thee. And it behoveth thee, O regenerate one, to approach me on a bed like to that which I had in the palace of my father. I also desire that thou shouldst be decked in garlands of flowers and other ornaments, and that I should approach thee adorned in those celestial ornaments that I like. Otherwise, I cannot approach thee, dressed in these rags dyed in red. Nor, O regenerate Rishi, it is sinful to wear ornaments (on such an occasion)." Hearing these words of his wife, Agastya replied, "O blessed girl, O thou of slender waist, I have not wealth like what thy father hath, O Lopamudra!" She answered saying, "Thou who art endued with wealth of asceticism, art certainly able to bring hither within a moment, by ascetic power, everything that exists in the world of men." Agastya said, "It is even so as thou hast said. That, however, would waste my ascetic merit. O bid me do that which may not loosen my ascetic merit." Lopamudra then said, "O thou endued with wealth of asceticism, my season will not last long, I do not desire, however, to approach thee otherwise. Nor do I desire to diminish thy (ascetic) merit in any way. It behoveth thee, however, to do as I desire, without injuring thy virtue." "'Agastya then said, "O blessed girl, if this be the resolve that thou hast settled in thy heart, I will go out in quest of wealth. Meanwhile, stay thou here as it pleaseth thee."'" SECTION XCVIII "Lomasa continued, 'Agastya then, O son of the Kuru race, went to king Srutarvan who was regarded as richer than other kings, to beg for wealth. And that monarch, learning of the arrival of the pot-born Rishi on the frontiers of his kingdoms, went out with his ministers and received the holy man with respect. And the king duly offering the _Arghya_ in the first instance, submissively and with joined hands enquired then after the reason of the Rishi's arrival. And Agastya answered saying, "O lord of the earth, know that I have come to thee, desirous of wealth. Give me a portion according to thy ability and without doing injury to others."' "Lomasa continued, 'The king, then, representing unto the Rishi the equality of his expenditure and income, said, "O learned one, take thou from my possessions the wealth thou pleasest." Beholding, however, the equality of that monarch's expenditure with income, the Rishi who always saw both sides with equal eyes, thought that if he took anything under the circumstances, his act would result in injury to creatures. Taking, therefore, Srutarvan with him, the Rishi went to Vradhnaswa. The latter, hearing of their arrival on his frontiers, received them duly. And Vradhnaswa also offered them the _Arghyas_ and water to wash their feet. And the monarch, with their permission, then enquired after the reason of their coming. And Agastya said, "O lord of earth, know that we have come to thee desirous of wealth. Give us what thou canst, without doing injury to others."' "Lomasa continued, 'That monarch then represented unto them the equality of his expenditure and income, and said, "Knowing this, take ye what ye desire." The Rishi, however, who saw both sides with equal eyes, beholding the equality of that monarch's income with expenditure, thought that if he took anything under the circumstances, his act would result in injury to all creatures. Agastya and Srutarvan, with king Vardhnaswa then went to Purokutsa's son, Trasadasyu, of enormous wealth. The high-souled Trasadasyu, learning of their arrival on the confines of his kingdom went out, O king, and received them well. And that best of monarchs in Ikshvaku's line, having worshipped all of them duly, enquired after the reason of their arrival. And Agastya answered, "O lord of earth, know that we have all come to thee, desirous of wealth. Give us what you can, without injuring others."' "Lomasa continued, 'That monarch then, represented unto them the equality of his income with expenditure, and said, "Knowing this, take ye what ye desire." Beholding, however, the equality of that monarch's expenditure with income, the Rishi who saw both sides with equal eyes, thought that if he took anything under the circumstances, his act would result in injury to all creatures. Then, O monarch, all those kings looking at one another, together spoke unto the Rishis saying, "O Brahmana, there is a Danava of the name Ilwala who of all persons on earth, is possessed of enormous wealth. Let us all approach him to-day and beg wealth of him."' "Lomasa continued, 'This suggestion, O king, of begging wealth of Ilwala appeared to them to be proper. And, O monarch, all of them went together to Ilwala after this!'" SECTION XCIX "Lomasa said, 'When Ilwala learnt that those kings along with the great Rishi had arrived on the confines of his domain, he went out with his ministers and worshipped them duly. And that prince of Asuras received them hospitably, entertaining them, O son of the Kuru race, with well dressed meat supplied by his brother Vatapi (transformed into a ram). Then all those royal sages, beholding the mighty Asura Vatapi, who had been transformed into a ram thus cooked for them, became sad and cheerless and were nearly deprived of themselves. But that best of Rishis--Agastya--addressing those royal sages, said, "Yield ye not to grief, I will eat up the great Asura." And the mighty Rishi then sat himself down on an excellent seat, and the prince of Asuras, Ilwala, began to distribute the food smilingly. And Agastya ate up the whole of the meat supplied by Vatapi (transformed into a ram). And after the dinner was over, Ilwala began to summon his brother. But thereupon a quantity of air alone came out of the illustrious Rishi's stomach, with a sound that was as loud, O child, as the roar of the clouds. And Ilwala repeatedly said, "Come out, O Vatapi!" Then that best of Munis--Agastya--bursting out in laughter, said, "How can he come out? I have already digested that great Asura." And beholding his brother already digested, Ilwala became sad and cheerless and joining his hands, along with his ministers, addressing the Rishi (and his companions), said, "What for have ye come hither, and what can I do for you?" And Agastya smilingly answered Ilwala, saying, "We know thee, O Asura, to be possessed of great power and also enormous wealth. These kings are not very wealthy while my need also of wealth is great. Give us what thou canst, without injuring others." Thus addressed Ilwala saluted the Rishi and said, "If thou say what it is that I mean to give, then will I give you wealth." Hearing this Agastya said, "O great Asura, thou hast even purposed to give unto each of these kings ten thousand kine and as many gold coins. And unto me thou hast purposed to give twice as much, as also a car of gold and a couple of horses fleet as thought. If thou enquirest now, thou wilt soon learn that your car is made of gold." Thereupon, O son of Kunti, Ilwala made enquiries and learnt that the car he had intended to give away was really a golden one. And the Daitya then with a sad heart, gave away much wealth and that car, unto which were yoked two steeds called Virava and Surava. And those steeds, O Bharata, took those kings and Agastya and all that wealth to the asylum of Agastya within the twinkling of an eye. And those royal sages then obtaining Agastya's permission, went away to their respective cities. And Agastya also (with that wealth) did all that his wife Lopamudra had desired. And Lopamudra then said, "O illustrious one, thou hast now accomplished all my wishes. Beget thou a child on me that shall be possessed of great energy." And Agastya replied unto her, saying, "O blessed and beauteous one, I have been much gratified with thy conduct. Listen thou unto me as regards the proposal I make in respect of thy offspring. Wouldst thou have a thousand sons, or a century of sons each equal to ten, or ten sons equal each to an hundred, or only one son who may vanquish a thousand?" Lopamudra answered, "Let me have one son equal unto a thousand, O thou endued with wealth of asceticism! One good and learned son is preferable to many evil ones."' "Lomasa continued, 'Saying, "So be it," that pious Muni thereupon knew his devout wife of equal behaviour. And after she had conceived, he retired into the forest. And after the Muni had gone away, the foetus began to grow for seven years. And after the seventh year had expired, there came out of the womb, the highly learned Dridhasyu, blazing, O Bharata, in his own splendour. And the great Brahmana and illustrious ascetic, endued with mighty energy, took his birth as the Rishi's son, coming out of the womb, as if repeating the Vedas with the _Upanishads_ and the _Angas_. Endued with great energy while yet a child, he used to carry loads of sacrificial fuel into the asylum of his father, and was thence called _Idhmavaha_ (carrier of sacrificial wood). And the Muni, beholding his son possessed of such virtues, became highly glad. "'And it was thus, O Bharata, that Agastya begat an excellent son in consequence of which his ancestors, O king, obtained the regions they desired. And it is from that time that this spot hath become known on the earth as the asylum of Agastya. Indeed, O king, this is the asylum graced with numerous beauties, of that Agastya who had slain Vatapi of Prahlada's race. The sacred Bhagirathi, adored by gods and Gandharvas gently runneth by, like a breeze-shaken pennon in the welkin. Yonder also she floweth over craggy crests descending lower and lower, and looketh like an affrighted she-snake lying along the hilly slopes. Issuing out of the matted locks of Mahadeva, she passes along, flooding the southern country and benefiting it like a mother, and ultimately mingleth with the ocean as if she were his favourite bride. Bathe ye as ye like in this sacred river, ye son of Pandu! And behold there, O Yudhishthira, the _tirtha_ of Bhrigu that is celebrated over the three worlds and adored, O king, by great Rishis. Bathing here, Rama (of Bhrigu's race) regained his might, which had been taken away from him (by Dasaratha's son). Bathing here, O son of Pandu, with thy brothers and Krishna, thou wilt certainly regain that energy of thine that hath been taken away by Duryodhana, even as Rama regained his that had been taken away by Dasaratha's son in hostile encounter.'" Vaisampayana continued, "At these words of Lomasa, Yudhishthira bathed there with his brothers and Krishna, and offered oblations of water, O Bharata, to the gods and the Pitris. And, O bull among men, after Yudhishthira had bathed in that _tirtha_, his body blazed forth in brighter effulgence, and he became invincible in respect of all foes. The son of Pandu then, O king, asked Lomasa, saying, 'O illustrious one, why had Rama's energy and might been taken away? And how also did he regain it? O exalted one, I ask thee, tell me everything.' "Lomasa said, 'Listen, O king, to the history of Rama (the son of Dasaratha) and Rama of Bhrigu's line gifted with intelligence. For the destruction of Ravana, O king, Vishnu, in his own body, took his birth as the son of illustrious Dasaratha. We saw in Ayodhya that son of Dasaratha after he had been born. It was then that Rama of Bhrigu's line, the son of Richika by Renuka, hearing of Rama the son of Dasaratha--of spotless deeds--went to Ayodhya, impelled by curiosity, and taking with him that celestial bow so fatal to the Kshatriyas, for ascertaining the prowess of Dasaratha's son. And Dasaratha, hearing that Rama of Bhrigu's race had arrived on the confines of his domains, set his own son Rama to receive the hero with respect. And beholding Dasaratha's son approach and stand before him with ready weapons, Rama of Bhrigu's line smilingly addressed him, O son of Kunti, saying, "O king, O exalted one, string, if thou canst, with all thy might, this bow which in my hands was made the instrument of destroying the Kshatriya race." Thus addressed, Dasaratha's son answered, "O illustrious one, it behoveth thee not to insult me thus. Nor am I, amongst the regenerate classes, deficient in the virtues of the Kshatriya order. The descendants of Ikshwaku in special never boast of the prowess of their arms." Then unto Dasaratha's son who said so, Rama of Bhrigu's line replied, "A truce to all crafty speech, O king! Take this bow." At this, Rama the son of Dasaratha, took in anger from the hands of Rama of Bhrigu's line that celestial bow that had dealt death to the foremost of Kshatriyas. And, O Bharata, the mighty hero smilingly strung that bow without the least exertion, and with its twang loud as the thunder-rattle, affrighted all creatures. And Rama, the son of Dasaratha, then, addressing Rama of Bhrigu's said, "Here, I have strung this bow. What else, O Brahmana, shall I do for thee?" Then Rama, the son of Jamadagni, gave unto the illustrious son of Dasaratha a celestial arrow and said, "Placing this on the bow-string, draw to thy ear, O hero!"'" "Lomasa continued, 'Hearing this, Dasaratha's son blazed up in wrath and said, "I have heard what thou hast said, and even pardoned thee. O son of Bhrigu's race, thou art full of vanity. Through the Grandsire's grace thou hast obtained energy that is superior to that of the Kshatriyas. And it is for this that thou insultest me. Behold me now in my native form: I give thee sight." Then Rama of Bhrigu's race beheld in the body of Dasaratha's son the Adityas with the Vasus, the Rudras, the Sadhyas with the Marutas, the Pitris, Hutasana, the stellar constellations and the planets, the Gandharvas, the Rakshasas, the Yakshas, the Rivers, the _tirthas_, those eternal Rishis identified with _Brahma_ and called the Valkhilyas, the celestial Rishis, the Seas and Mountains, the Vedas with the Upanishads and _Vashats_ and the sacrifices, the Samans in their living form, the Science of weapons, O Bharata, and the Clouds with rain and lightning, O Yudhishthira! And the illustrious Vishnu then shot that shaft. And at this the earth was filled with sounds of thunder, and burning meteors, O Bharata, began to flash through the welkin. And showers of dust and rain fell upon the surface of the earth. And whirlwinds and frightful sounds convulsed everything, and the earth herself began to quake. And shot by the hand of Rama, that shaft, confounding by its energy the other Rama, came back blazing into Rama's hands. And Bhargava, who had thus been deprived of his senses, regaining consciousness and life, bowed unto Rama--that manifestation of Vishnu's power. And commanded by Vishnu, he proceeded to the mountains of Mahendra. And thenceforth that great ascetic began to dwell there, in terror and shame. And after the expiration of a year, the Pitris, beholding Rama dwelling there deprived of energy, his pride quelled, and himself sunk in affliction, said unto him, "O son, having approached Vishnu, thy behaviour towards him was not proper. He deserveth for aye worship and respect in the three worlds. Go, O son, to that sacred river which goeth by name of Vadhusara! Bathing in all the _tirthas_ of that stream, thou wilt regain thy energy! There in that river is the _tirthas_ called Diptoda where thy grandsire Bhrigu, O Rama, in the celestial age had practised ascetic penances of great merit." Thus addressed by them, Rama, O son of Kunti, did what the Pitris bade him, and obtained back at this _tirtha_, O son of Pandu, the energy he had lost. Even this O child, was what befell Rama of spotless deeds in days in of yore, after he had, O king, met Vishnu (in the form of Dasaratha's son)!'" SECTION C "Yudhishthira said, 'O best of regenerate ones, I desire again to hear of the achievements in detail of Agastya--that illustrious Rishi endued with great intelligence.' "Lomasa said, 'Listen now, O king, to the excellent and wonderful and extraordinary history of Agastya, as also, O monarch, about the prowess of that Rishi of immeasurable energy. There were in the Krita age certain tribes of fierce Danavas that were invincible in battle. And they were known by the name of Kalakeyas and were endued with terrible prowess. Placing themselves under Vritra and arming themselves with diverse weapons they pursued the celestials with Indra at their head in all directions. The gods then all resolved upon the destruction of Vritra, and went with Indra at their head to Brahma. And beholding them standing before him with joined hands, Parameshthi addressed them all and said, "Everything is known to me, ye gods, about what ye seek. I shall indicate now the means by which ye may slay Vritra. There is a high-souled and great Rishi known by the name of Dadhicha. Go ye all together unto him and solicit of him a boon. With well-pleased heart, that Rishi of virtuous soul will even grant you the boon. Desirous as ye are of victory, go ye all together unto him and tell him, '_For the good of the three worlds, give us thy bones_.' Renouncing his body, he will give you his bones. With these bones of his, make ye a fierce and powerful weapon to be called _Vajra_, endued with six sides and terrible roar and capable of destroying even the most powerful enemies. With that weapon will he of a hundred sacrifices slay Vritra. I have now told you all. See that all this is done speedily." Thus addressed by him, the gods with the Grandsire's leave (came away), and with Narayana at their head proceeded to the asylum of Dadhicha. That asylum was on the other bank of the river Saraswati and covered with diverse trees and creepers. And it resounded with the hum of bees as if they were reciting _Samans_. And it also echoed with the melodious notes of the male _Kokila_ and the _Chakora_. And buffaloes and boars and deer and _Chamaras_ wandered there at pleasure freed from the fear of tigers. And elephants with the juice trickling down from rent temples, plunging in the stream, sported with the she-elephants and made the entire region resound with their roars. And the place also echoed with the loud roars of lions and tigers, while at intervals might be seen those grisly monarchs of the forest lying stretched in caves and glens and beautifying them with their presence. And such was the asylum, like unto heaven itself, of Dadhicha, that the gods entered. And there they beheld Dadhicha looking like the sun himself in splendour and blazing in grace of person like the Grandsire himself. And the celestials saluted the feet of the Rishi and bowed unto him and begged of him the boon that the Grandsire had bade them do. Then Dadhicha, well pleased, addressing those foremost of celestials, said, "Ye celestials, I will do what is for your benefit. I will even renounce this body of mine myself." And that foremost of men with soul under control, having said this, suddenly renounced his life. The gods then took the bones of the deceased Rishi as directed. And the celestials, glad at heart, went to Twashtri (the celestial Artificer) and spake to him of the means of victory. And Twashtri, hearing those words of theirs, became filled with joy, and constructed (out of those bones) with great attention and care the fierce weapons called _Vajra_. And having manufactured it, he joyfully addressed Indra, saying, "With this foremost of weapons, O exalted one, reduce that fierce foe of the gods to ashes. And having slain the foe, rule thou happily the entire domain of heaven, O chief of the celestials, with those that follow thee." And thus addressed by Twashtri, Purandara took the _Vajra_ from his hand, joyfully and with proper respect.'" SECTION CI "Lomasa said, 'Armed with the _Vajra_ then, and supported by celestials endued with great might, Indra then approached Vritra, who was then occupying the entire earth and the heaven. And he was guarded on all sides by huge-bodied Kalakeyas with upraised weapons resembling gigantic mountains with towering peaks. And the encounter that took place between the gods and the Danavas lasted for a short while and was, O chief of the Bharatas, terrific in the extreme, appalling as it did the three worlds. And loud was the clash of swords and scimitars upraised and warded off by heroic hands in course of those fierce encounters. And heads (severed from trunks) began to roll from the firmament to the earth like fruits of the palmyra palm falling upon the ground, loosened from their stalks. And the Kalakeyas armed with iron-mounted bludgeons and cased in golden mail ran against the gods, like moving mountains on conflagration. And the gods, unable to stand the shock of that impetuous and proudly advancing host, broke and fled from fear. Purandara of a thousand eyes, beholding the gods flying in fear and Vritra growing in boldness, became deeply dejected. And the foremost of gods Purandara, himself, agitated with the fear of the Kalakeyas, without losing a moment, sought the exalted Narayana's refuge. And the eternal Vishnu beholding Indra so depressed enhanced his might by imparting unto him a portion of his own energy. And when the celestials beheld that Sakra was thus protected by Vishnu, each of them imparted unto him his own energy. And the spotless Brahmarshis also imparted their energies unto the chief of the celestials. And favoured thus by Vishnu and all the gods and by the high-blessed Rishis also, Sakra became mightier than before. And when Vritra learnt that the chief of the celestials had been filled with might of others, he sent forth some terrific roars. And at these roars of his, the earth, the directions, the firmament, heaven, and the mountains all began to tremble. And the chief of the celestials, deeply agitated on hearing that fierce and loud roar, was filled with fear, and desiring to slay the Asura soon, hurled, O king, the mighty _Vajra_. And struck with Indra's _Vajra_ the great Asura decked in gold and garlands fell head-long, like the great mountain Mandara hurled of yore from Vishnu's hands; and although the prince of Daityas was slain, yet Sakra in panic ran from the field, desiring to take shelter in a lake, thinking that the _Vajra_ itself had not been hurled from his hands and regarding that Vritra himself was still alive. The celestials, however, and the great Rishis became filled with joy, and all of them began to cheerfully chant the praise of Indra. And mustering together, the celestials began to slay the Danavas, who were dejected at the death of their leader. And struck with panic at sight of the assembled celestial host, the afflicted Danavas fled to the depths of the sea. And having entered the fathomless deep, teeming with fishes and crocodiles, the Danavas assembled together and began to proudly conspire for the destruction of the three worlds. And some amongst them that were wise in inferences suggested courses of action, each according to his judgment. In course of time, however, the dreadful resolution arrived at those conspiring sons of Diti, was that they should, first of all, compass the destruction of all persons possessed of knowledge and ascetic virtue. The worlds are all supported by asceticism. Therefore, they said, "Lose no time for the destruction of asceticism. Compass ye without delay the destruction of those on earth that are possessed of ascetic virtues, that are conversant with duties and the ways of morality, and that have a knowledge of _Brahma_; for when these are destroyed, the universe itself will be destroyed." And all the Danavas, having arrived at this resolution for the destruction of the universe, became highly glad. And thenceforth they made the ocean--that abode of Varuna--with billows high as hills, their fort, from which to make their sallies.'" SECTION CII "Lomasa said, 'The Kalakeyas then having recourse to that receptacle of waters, which is the abode of Varuna, began their operations for the destruction of the universe. And during the darkness of the night those angry Daityas began to devour the Munis they found in woody retreats and sacred spots. And those wicked wretches devoured in the asylum of Vasishtha, Brahmanas to the number of a hundred and eighty, besides nine other ascetics. And, proceeding to the asylum of Chyavana that was inhabited by many _Brahmacharis_, they devoured a century of Brahmanas that lived upon fruit and roots alone. And they began to do all this during the darkness of the night, while they entered the depths of the sea by day. And they slew a full score of Brahmanas of subdued souls and leading a Brahmacharya mode of life and living upon air and water alone, in the retreat of Bharadwaja. And it was thus that those Danavas the Kalakeyas, intoxicated with prowess of arms and their lives nearly run out, gradually invaded all the asylums of the Rishis during the darkness of the night, slaughtering numerous Brahmanas. And, O best of men, although the Danavas behaved in this way towards the ascetics in woody retreats, yet men failed to discover anything of them. And every morning people saw the dead bodies of Munis emaciated with frugal diet, lying on the ground. And many of those bodies were without flesh and without blood, without marrow, without entrails, and with limbs separated from one another. And here and there lay on the ground heaps of bones like masses of conch shells. And the earth was scattered over with the (sacrificial) contents of broken jars and shattered ladles for pouring libations of clarified butter and with the sacred fires kept with care by the ascetics. And the universe afflicted with the terror of the Kalakeyas, being destitute of Vedic studies and _vashats_ and sacrificial festivals and religious rites, became entirely cheerless. And, O king, when men began to perish in this way, the survivors, afflicted with fear, fled for their lives in all directions. And some fled to caverns and some behind mountain-streams and springs and some through fear of death, died without much ado. And some who were brave and mighty bowmen cheerfully went out and took great trouble in tracking the Danavas. Unable, however, to find them out, for the Asuras had sought refuge in the depths of the sea, these brave men came back to their homes gratified with the search. And, O lord of men, when the universe was being thus destroyed, and when sacrificial festivals and religious rites had been suspended, the gods became deeply afflicted. And gathering together with Indra in their midst they began, from fear, to take counsel of one another. And repairing unto the exalted and uncreate Narayana--that unvanquished god of Vaikuntha--the celestials sought his protection. And bowing unto the slayer of Madhu, the gods addressed him, saying, "O lord, thou art the creator, the protector, and the slayer of ourselves as well as of the universe. It is thou who has created this universe with its mobile and immobile creatures. O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, it was thou who in days of yore hadst for the benefit of all creatures raised from the sea the sunken earth, assuming also the form of a boar. And, O best of male beings, assuming also the form of half-man and half-lion, thou hadst slain in days of yore that ancient Daitya of mighty prowess known by the name of Hiranyakasipu. And that other great Asura also, Vali by name, was incapable of being slain by any one. Assuming the form of a dwarf, thou exiledest him from the three worlds. O lord, it was by thee that that wicked Asura, Jambha by name, who was a mighty bowman and who always obstructed sacrifices, was slain. Achievements like these, which cannot be counted, are thine. O slayer of Madhu, we who have been afflicted with fear, have thee for our refuge. It is for this, O god of gods, that we inform thee of our present troubles. Protect the worlds, the gods, and Sakra also, from a terrible fear."'" SECTION CIII "'The celestials said, "Through thy favour it is that all born beings of the four kinds increase. And they being created, propitiate the dwellers of heaven by offerings made to the gods and the names of departed forefathers. Thus it is that people, protected by thee and free from trouble live depending on one another, and (so) increase. Now this peril hath befallen the people. We do not know by whom are Brahmanas being killed during the night. If the Brahmanas are destroyed, the earth itself will meet with destruction, and if the earth cometh to an end, heaven also will cease to exist. O mighty-armed one, O lord of the universe! we beseech thee (to act so) that all the worlds, protected by thee, may not come to an end, so it may please thee." "'Vishnu said, "Ye gods! To me is known the reason of the destruction of the born beings, I shall speak of it to you; listen with minds free from tribulation. There exists an exceedingly fierce host, known by the name of Kalakeyas. They, under the lead of Vritra, were devastating the whole universe. And when they saw that Vritra was slain by the sagacious Indra endued with a thousand eyes, they, to preserve their lives, entered into the ocean, that abode of Varuna. And having entered the ocean, abounding with sharks and crocodiles, they at night killed the saints at this spot with the view of exterminating the people. But they cannot be slain, as they have taken shelter within the sea. Ye should, therefore, think of some expedient to dry up the ocean. Who save Agastya is capable of drying up the sea. And without drying up the ocean, these (demons) cannot be assailed by any other means." Hearing these words of Vishnu, the gods took the permission of Brahma, who lives at the best of all regions, and went to the hermitage of Agastya. Then they beheld the high-souled Agastya, the son of Varuna, of resplendent mien, and waited upon by saints, even as Brahma is waited upon by celestials. And approaching him, they addressed the son of Mitra and Varuna at the hermitage, magnanimous and unswerving, and looking like an embodiment of pious works piled together, and glorified him by reciting his deeds. The deities said, "Thou wert formerly the refuge of the gods when they were oppressed by Nahusha. Thorn of the world that he was, he was thrown down from his throne of heaven--from the celestial regions. Vindhya, the foremost of all mountains, suddenly began to increase his height, from a wrathful competition with the sun (_i.e._, to rival him in altitude). But he hath ceased to increase, as he was unable to disobey thy command. And when darkness hath covered the world, the born beings were harassed by death, but having obtained thee for a protector, they attained the utmost security. Whenever we are beset by perils, thy reverence is always our refuge; for this reason it is that we solicit a boon from thee; as thou ever grantest the boon solicited (of thee)."'" SECTION CIV "Yudhishthira said, 'O great saint! I am desirous of hearing in detail why it was that Vindhya, made senseless with wrath, suddenly began to increase his bulk.' "Lomasa said, 'The sun between his rising and setting used to revolve round that monarch of mountains--the great Meru of golden lustre. And seeing this the mountain Vindhya spake to Surya saying, "As thou every day goest round Meru and honourest him by thy circumambulations, do thou even the same by me, O maker of light!" Thus addressed, the sun replied to the great mountain, saying, "I do not of my own will honour this mountain by my circumambulations. By those who have built this universe hath that path been assigned to me." Thus addressed the mountain suddenly began to increase from wrath, desirous, O chastiser of foes, of obstructing the path of the Sun and the Moon. And all the assembled gods came to Vindhya, the mighty king of mountains, and tried to dissuade him from his course. But he heeded not what they said. And then all the assembled gods went to the saint, living in the hermitage, engaged in the practice of austerities, and the very best of persons devoted to virtue; and stated all that happened to Agastya, possessed of exceeding marvellous power. "'The gods said, "This king of hills, Vindhya, giving way to wrath, is stopping the path of the Sun and the Moon, and also the course of the stars. O foremost of Brahmanas! O thou great in gifts! excepting thyself, there is none who can prevent him; therefore do thou make him desist." Hearing these words of the gods the Brahmana came to the mountain. And he with his wife, having arrived there, came near Vindhya and spake to him, saying, "O thou best of mountains! I wish to have a path given to me by thee, as, for some purpose, I shall have to go to the southern region. Until my return, do thou wait for me. And when I have returned, O king of mountains, thou mayst increase in bulk as much as thou pleasest." And, O slayer of foes! having made this compact with Vindhya up to the present day Varuna's son doth not return from the southern region. Thus have I, asked by thee, narrated to thee why Vindhya doth not increase in bulk, by reason of the power of Agastya. Now, O king! hear how the Kalakeyas were killed by the gods, after they had obtained their prayer from Agastya. "'Having heard the words of the gods, Agastya, the son of Mitra, and Varuna, said, "Wherefore are ye come? What boon do ye solicit from me?" Thus addressed by him, the deities then spake to the saint, saying, "This deed we ask thee to achieve, _viz_., to drink up the great ocean, O magnanimous (saint)! Then we shall be able to slay those enemies of the gods, known by the name of Kalakeyas, together with all their adherents." Having heard the words of the gods, the saint said, "Let it be so--I shall do even what ye desire, and that which will conduce to the great happiness of men." Having said this, he then proceeded to the ocean--the lord of rivers,--accompanied by sages, ripe in the practice of penances, and also by the deities, O thou who leadest an excellent life! And men and snakes, celestial choristers, Yakshas and Kinnaras followed the magnanimous saints,--desirous of witnessing that wonderful event. Then they came up all together near to the sea, of awful roar, dancing, as it were, with its billows, bounding with the breeze, and laughing with masses of froth, and stumbling at the caves, and thronged with diverse kinds of sharks, and frequented by flocks of various birds. And the deities accompanied by Agastya and celestial choristers and huge snakes and highly-gifted saints, approached the immense watery waste.'" SECTION CV "Lomasa said, 'That blessed saint, the son of Varuna, having reached the sea spake unto the assembled gods, and the saints gathered together, saying "I surely am going to drink up the ocean--that abode of the god of waters. Be ye quickly ready with those preparations which it devolves upon you to make." Having spoken these few words, the unswerving offspring of Mitra and Varuna, full of wrath, began to drink up the sea, while all the worlds stood observing (the deed). Then the gods, together with Indra, seeing how the sea was being drunk up, were struck with mighty amazement, and glorified him with laudatory words, saying, "Thou art our protector, and the Providence itself for men,--and also the creator of the worlds. By thy favour the universe with its gods may possibly be saved from havoc." And the magnanimous one, glorified by the gods--while the musical instruments of celestial choristers were playing all round, and while celestial blossoms were showered upon him--rendered waterless the wide ocean. And seeing the wide ocean rendered devoid of water, the host of gods was exceedingly glad; and taking up choice weapons of celestial forge, fell to slaying the demons with courageous hearts,--And they, assailed by the magnanimous gods, of great strength, and swift of speed, and roaring loudly, were unable to withstand the onset of their fleet and valorous (foes)--those residents of the heavenly regions, O descendant of Bharata! And those demons, attacked by the gods, bellowing loudly, for a moment carried on terrible conflict. They had been in the first instance burnt by the force of penances performed by the saints, who had matured their selves; therefore, the demons, though they tried to the utmost, were at last slaughtered by the gods. And decked with brooches of gold, and bearing on their persons ear-rings and armlets, the demons, when slain, looked beautiful indeed, like _palasa_ trees when full of blossoms. Then, O best of men! a few--the remnant of those that were killed of the Kalakeya race, having rent asunder the goddess Earth, took refuge at the bottom of the nether regions. And the gods, when they saw that the demons were slain, with diverse speeches, glorified the mighty saint, and spake the following words. "O thou of mighty arms, by thy favour men have attained a mighty blessing, and the Kalakeyas, of ruthless strength have been killed by thy power, O creator of beings! Fill the sea (now), O mighty-armed one; give up again the water drunk up by thee." Thus addressed, the blessed and mighty saint replied, "That water in sooth hath been digested by me. Some other expedient, therefore, must be thought of by you, if ye desire to make endeavour to fill the ocean." Hearing this speech of that saint of matured soul, the assembled gods were struck with both wonder and sadness, O great king! And thereupon, having bidden adieu to each other, and bowed to the mighty saint all the born beings went their way. And the gods with Vishnu, came to Brahma. And having held consultation again, with the view of filling up the sea, they, with joined hands, spake about replenishing it.'" SECTION CVI "Lomasa said, 'Then gathered together, Brahma, the grandfather of men (thus) addressed, "Go ye, O gods! whither your pleasure may lead you, or your desire conduct you. It will take a long course of time for the ocean to resume its wonted state; the occasion will be furnished by the agnates of the great king Bhagiratha." Hearing the words of the (universal) grandfather (Brahma), all the foremost gods went their way biding the day (when the ocean was to be filled again).' "Yudhishthira said, 'What was that occasion, O Saint? And how did the agnates of (Bhagiratha furnish the same)? And how was the ocean refilled by the interference of Bhagiratha? O Saint, who deemest thy religious practices as thy only treasure, O thou of the priestly class! I wish to hear the account of the achievements of the king, narrated in detail by thyself.'" Vaisampayana said, "Thus addressed by the magnanimous and virtuous king, he, the chief of men of the priestly class, narrated the achievements of the high-souled (king) Sagara. "Lomasa said, 'There was born in the family of the Ikshaku tribe, a ruler of the earth named Sagara, endued with beauty, and strength. And that same (king) of a dreaded name was sonless, O descendant of Bharata! And he carried havoc through the tribes of the Haihayas and the Talajanghas; brought under subjection the whole of the military caste; (and so) ruled over his own kingdom. And, O most praiseworthy of the descendants of Bharata! O chief of the Bharata race! he had two wives proud of their beauty and of their youth,--one a princess of the Vidarbha race, and the other of the royal line of Sivi. And, O chief of kings, that same ruler of men, betook himself to the mountain Kailasa, accompanied by both his wives, and with the desire of having a son became engaged in the practice of exceeding austere penances. And being engaged in the practice of rigid austerities, and (also) employed in the contemplation known by the name of Yoga, he obtained the sight of the magnanimous god with three eyes--the slayer of the demon called Tripura; the worker of blessings (for all beings); the (eternally) existent one; the ruling Being, the holder of the Pinaka bow; carrying in his hand his (well-known weapon)--the trident; the god of three eyes; the repository of (eternal) peace; the ruler of all those that are fierce; capable of assuming very many forms; and the lord of the goddess Uma. And that same ruler of men, of mighty arms, as soon as he beheld the god--that giver of boons--fell down at his feet, with both his queens, and proffered a prayer to have a son. And the god Siva, well pleased with him, spake (thus) to that most righteous of the rulers of men, attended by his two wives, saying, "O lord of men! considering the (astrological) moment at which thou hast proffered thy prayer to me, sixty thousand sons, O foremost of choice men valorous and characterised by exceeding pride, will be born in one of thy two wives (here). But they all, O ruler of the earth, shall perish together. In the other wife, (however), will be born a single valiant son, who will perpetuate thy race." Having said this to him, the god Rudra (Siva) vanished from sight at that very spot, and that same king Sagara now came (back) to his own abode accompanied by his two wives, exceedingly delighted at heart (for what had happened) then. And, O most praiseworthy of the sons of Manu! (i.e., men), there the two lotus-eyed wives of him--the princess of Vidarbha and the princess of Sivi--came (erelong) to be with child. And afterwards, on the due day, the princess of Vidarbha brought forth (something) of the shape of a gourd and the princess of Sivi gave birth to a boy as beautiful as a god. Then the ruler of the earth made up his mind to throw away the gourd,--when he heard (proceeding) from the sky a speech (uttered) in a grave and solemn voice, "O king! do thou not be guilty of this hasty act; thou shouldst not abandon thy sons. Take out the seeds from the gourd and let them be preserved with care in steaming vessels partly filled with clarified butter. Then thou wilt get, O scion of Bharata's race! sixty thousand sons. O ruler of men! the great god (Siva) hath spoken that thy sons are to be born in this manner. Let not therefore thy mind be turned away therefrom."'" SECTION CVII "Lomasa said, 'O most righteous of kings! When he heard these words (proceeding) from the sky, he had faith therein, and did all that he was directed to do, O chief of the men of Bharata's race! Then the ruler of men took separately each of the seeds and then placed these divisions (of the gourd) in vessels filled with clarified butter. And intent on the preservation of his sons, he provided a nurse for every (receptacle). Then after a long time there arose sixty thousand exceedingly powerful sons of that same king--gifted with unmeasured strength, they were born, O ruler of earth! to that saint-like king, by Rudra's favour. And they were terrible; and their acts were ruthless. And they were able to ascend and roam about in the sky; and being numerous themselves, despised everybody, including the gods. And they would chase even the gods, the Gandharvas, and the Rakshasas and all the born beings, being themselves valiant and addicted to fighting. Then all people, harassed by the dull-headed sons of Sagara, united with all the gods, went to Brahma as their refuge. And then addressed the blessed grandfather of all beings (Brahma), "Go ye your way, ye gods, together with all these men. In a not very long space of time, there will come about, O gods! a great and exceedingly terrible destruction of Sagara's sons, caused by the deed perpetrated by them." Thus addressed, those same gods, and men, O lord of the sons of Manu! bade adieu to the grandfather, and went back to whence they had come. Then, O chief of Bharata's race! after the expiry of very many days, the mighty king Sagara accepted the consecration for performing the rites of a horse-sacrifice. And his horse began to roam over the world, protected by his sons. And when the horse reached the sea, waterless and frightful to behold--although the horse was guarded with very great care--it (suddenly) vanished at the very spot (it stood upon). Then, O respected sir! those same sons of Sagara imagined the same fine horse to have been stolen; and returning to their father, narrated how it had been stolen out of sight. And thereupon he addressed them, saying, "Go ye and search for the horse in all the cardinal points." Then, O great king, by this command of their father, they began to search for the horse in the cardinal points and throughout the whole surface of the earth. But all those sons of Sagara, all mutually united, could not find the horse, nor the person who had stolen it. And coming back then, they with joined palms thus addressed their father, (standing) before them, "O Protector of men! O ruler of the earth! O king! by thy command, the whole of this world with its hills and its forest tracts, with its seas, and its woods, and its islands, with its rivulets and rivers and caves, hath been searched through by us. But we cannot find either the horse, or the thief who had stolen the same." And hearing the words, the same king became senseless with wrath, and then told them all, carried away by Destiny, "Go ye all, may ye never return! Search ye again for the horse. Without that sacrificial horse, ye must never return, my boys!" "'And those same sons of Sagara, accepted this command of their father, and once more began to search through the entire world. Now these heroes saw a rift on the surface of the earth. And having reached this pit, the sons of Sagara began to excavate it. And with spades and pickaxes they went on digging the sea, making the utmost efforts. And that same abode of Varuna (namely the ocean), being thus excavated by the united sons of Sagara and rent and cut on all sides round, was placed in a condition of the utmost distress. And the demons and snakes and Rakshasas and various (other) animated beings began to utter distressful cries, while being killed by Sagara's sons. And hundreds and thousands of animated beings were beheld with severed heads and separated trunks and with their skins and bones and joints rent asunder and broken. Thus they went on digging the ocean, which was the abode of Varuna and an exceedingly long space of time expired in this work, but still the horse was not found. Then, O lord of earth! towards the north-eastern region of the sea, the incensed sons of Sagara dug down as far as the lower world, and there they beheld the horse, roaming about on the surface of the ground. And they saw the magnanimous Kapila, who looked like a perfect mass of splendour. And having beheld him shining with his brightness, just as the fire shineth with its flames, they, O king! seeing the horse, were flushed with delight. And they being incensed, sent forward by their fate, paid no heed to the presence of the magnanimous Kapila, and ran forward with a view to seizing the horse. Then, O great king! Kapila, the most righteous of saints,--he whom the great sages name as Kapila Vasudeva--assumed a fiery look, and the mighty saint shot flames towards them, and thereby burnt down the dull-headed sons of Sagara. And Narada, whose practice of austerities was very great, when he beheld them reduced to ashes, came to Sagara's side, and gave the information to him. And when the king learnt this terrible news which proceeded from the mouth of the saint, for nearly an hour he remained sad, and then he bethought himself of what Siva had said. Then sending for Ansuman, the son of Asamanjas, and his own grandson, he, O chief of Bharata's race! spake the following words, "Those same sixty thousand sons of unmeasured strength having encountered Kapila's wrath, have met their death on my account. And, O my boy of stainless character! thy father also hath been forsaken by me, in order to discharge my duty (as a king), and being desirous of doing good to my subjects."' "Yudhishthira said, 'O saint, whose sole wealth consists in religious practices! Tell me for what reason, Sagara, the foremost of kings, abandoned his own begotten son, endued with valour--an act so difficult (for all other men).' "Lomasa said, 'A son was born to Sagara, known by the name of Asamanjas, he who was given birth to by the princess of Sivi. And he used to seize by throat the feeble children of the townsmen, and threw them while screaming into the river. And thereupon the townsmen, overwhelmed with terror and grief, met together, and all standing with joined palms, besought Sagara in the following way, "O great king! Thou art our protector from the dreaded peril of attack from a hostile force. Therefore it is proper for thee to deliver us from the frightful danger, proceeding from Asamanjas." And the most righteous of the rulers of men, having heard this frightful news from his subjects, for nearly an hour remained sad and then spake to his ministers, saying, "This day from the city let my son Asamanjas be driven forth. If ye wish to do what will be acceptable to me, let this be quickly done." And, O protector of men! those same ministers, thus addressed by the king, performed in a hurry exactly what the king had commanded them to do. Thus have I narrated to thee how the magnanimous Sagara banished his son, with a view to the welfare of the residents of the town. I shall now fully narrate to thee what Ansuman of the powerful bow was told by Sagara. Listen to me! "'Sagara said, "O my boy! sore am I at heart for having abandoned thy father, on account of the death of my sons, and also on being unsuccessful in getting back the horse. Therefore, O grandson! harassed with grief and confounded with the obstruction to my religious rites as I am, thou must bring back the horse and deliver me from hell." Thus addressed by the magnanimous Sagara, Ansuman went with sorrow to that spot where the earth had been excavated. And by that very passage he entered into the sea, and beheld that illustrious Kapila and that same horse. And having beheld that ancient saint, most righteous of his order, looking like a mass of light, he bowed with his head to the ground, and informed him of the reason of his visit. Then, O great king, Kapila was pleased with Ansuman, and that saint of a virtuous soul told him to ask for a favour from him. And he in the first place prayed for the horse, for the purpose of using it in the sacrifice; in the second place he prayed for the purification of his fathers. Then the mighty chief of saints, Kapila spake to him, saying, "I shall grant thee everything that thou desirest, O stainless (prince). May good luck be thine! In thee are fixed (the virtues of) forbearance, and truth, and righteousness. By thee hath Sagara had all his desires fulfilled. Thou are (really) a son to thy father. And by thy ability the sons of Sagara will go to heaven (i.e., will be delivered from the consequences of their unhallowed death). And the son of thy son, with a view to purifying the sons of Sagara, will obtain the favour of the great god Siva, (by means of practising great austerities), and will (thus) bring (to this world) the river that floweth in three (separate) streams, Ganga, O chief of men! May good luck be thine! Take thou with thee the sacrificial horse. Finish, my lad! the sacrificial rites of the magnanimous Sagara." Thus addressed by the illustrious Kapila, Ansuman took the horse with him, and came back to the sacrificial yard of the mighty-minded Sagara. Then he fell prostrate at the feet of the high-souled Sagara, who smelt him on the head and narrated all the events to him, all that had been seen and heard by him, and likewise the destruction of Sagara's sons. He also announced that the horse had been brought back to the sacrificial yard. And when king Sagara heard of this, he no more grieved on account of his sons. And he praised and honoured Ansuman, and finished those same sacrificial rites. His sacrifice finished, Sagara was greeted honourably by all the gods; and he converted the sea, Varuna's dwelling place, into a son of himself. And the lotus-eyed (King Sagara) having ruled his kingdom for a period of exceeding length, placed his grandson on the throne, (full of) responsibilities and then ascended to heaven. And Ansuman likewise, O great king! virtuous in soul, ruled over the world as far as the edge of the sea, following the foot-prints of his father's father. His son was named Dilipa, versed in virtue. Upon him placing the duties of his sovereign post, Ansuman likewise departed this life. And then when Dilipa heard what an awful fate had overtaken his forefathers, he was sorely grieved and thought of the means of raising them. And the ruler of men made every great effort towards the descent of Ganga (to the mortal world). But although trying to the utmost of his power, he could not bring about what he so much wished. And a son was born to him, known by the name of Bhagiratha, beauteous, and devoted to a virtuous life, and truthful, and free from feelings of malice. And Dilipa appointed him as king, and betook himself to the forest life. And, O best of all the scions of Bharata's race! that same king (Dilipa), devoted himself to a successful course of austerities, and at the end of (sufficient) period, from the forest departed to heaven.'" SECTION CVIII "Lomasa said, 'That same king, of a powerful bow, standing at the head of the surrounding, (i.e., the occupant of an imperial throne) of a powerful car, (i.e., possessing every great fighting power) became the delight of the eyes and the soul of all the world. And he of the powerful arm came to learn how his forefathers had met an awful end from Kapila of mighty soul, and how they had been unable to attain the region of gods. And he with a sorrowful heart made over his kingly duties to his minister, and, O lord of men! for practising austerities, went to the side of the snowy Mountain (the Himalayas). And, O most praiseworthy of men, desirous of extinguishing his sins by leading an austere life, and (thereby) obtaining the favour of the (goddess) Ganga, he visited that foremost of mountains--Himalaya. And he beheld it adorned with peaks of diverse forms full of mineral earth; besprinkled on all sides with drops from clouds which were resting themselves upon the breeze; beautiful with rivers and groves and rocky spurs, looking like (so many) palaces (in a city); attended upon by lions and tigers that had concealed themselves in its caves and pits; and also inhabited by birds of checkered forms, which were uttering diverse sounds, such as the Bhringarajas, and ganders, and Datyuhas, and water-cocks, and peacocks and birds with a hundred feathers, and Jivanjivakas, and black birds, and Chakoras of eyes furnished with black corners, and the birds that love their young. And he saw the mountain abounding in lotus plants growing in delightful reservoirs of water. And the cranes rendered it charming with their sounds; and the Kinnaras and the celestial nymphs were seated on its stony slabs. And the elephants occupying the cardinal points had everywhere robbed its trees with the end of their tusks; and the demi-gods of the Vidyadhara class frequented the hill. And it was full of various gems, and was also infested by snakes bearing terrible poison and of glowing tongues. And the mountain at places looked like (massive) gold, and elsewhere it resembled a silvery (pile), and at some places it was like a (sable) heap of collyrium. Such was the snowy hill where the king now found himself. And that most praiseworthy of men at that spot betook himself to an awful austere course of life. And for one thousand years his subsistence was nothing but water, fruit and roots. When, however, a thousand years according to the calculation of gods had elapsed, then the great river Ganga having assumed a material form, manifested to him her (divine) self. "'Ganga said. "O great king! what dost thou desire of me? And what must I bestow on thee? Tell me the same, O most praiseworthy of men! I shall do as thou mayst ask me." Thus addressed, the king then made his reply to Ganga, the daughter of the snowy Hill, saying, "O grantress of boons! O great river! my father's fathers, while searching for the horse, were sent by Kapila to the abode of the god of death. And those same sixty thousand sons of Sagara of mighty soul, having met with the majestic Kapila, perished, (to a soul) in an instant of time. Having thus perished, there hath been no place for them in the region of heaven. O great river! So long as thou dost not besprinkle those same bodies with thy water, there is no salvation for these same Sagara's sons. O blessed goddess! carry thou my forefathers, Sagara's sons, to the region of heaven. O great river! on their account am I beseeching thee forsooth."' "Lomasa said, 'Ganga, the goddess saluted by the world, having heard these words of the king, was well pleased, and spake to Bhagiratha the following words: "O great king! I am prepared to do what thou dost ask me; there is no doubt therein. But when I shall descend from the sky to the earth, the force of my fall will be difficult to sustain, O protector of men! In the three worlds there exists none who is able to sustain the same, excepting Siva, the most praiseworthy of gods, the great Lord with the throat of sable blue. O (prince) of a powerful arm! Obtain the favour, by practising austerities, of that same Siva--giver of boons. That same god will sustain my descent upon his head. Thy desire he will fulfill, the desire, namely, to be of service to thy fathers, O king!" Then the great king Bhagiratha having heard the same, went to the Kailasa hill, and betaking himself to a severe course of penances, at the expiration of a certain length of time obtained the favour of that worker of blessings (Siva). And, O protector of men! that same best of men, in order that his forefathers might have a place in heaven secured to them, received from that very Siva the fulfilment of his wish, namely the wish that the descending Ganga might be sustained.'" SECTION CIX "Lomasa said, 'The blessed God having heard what Bhagiratha had said, and with a view to doing what was agreeable to the residents of heaven, replied to the king, saying, "So let it be. O most righteous of the protectors of men, O (prince) of a powerful arm! For thy sake I shall sustain the river of the gods, when she will take her descent from the sky, she who is pure and blessed and divine, O (king) of a mighty arm!" Saying this, he came to the snowy mountain, surrounded by his attendants, of awful mien, and with uplifted weapons of diverse forms. And standing there, he said to Bhagiratha, the most praiseworthy of men, "O (prince) of a powerful arm! do thou pray to the river, the daughter of the king of mountains. I shall sustain that most praiseworthy of rivers when she falls down from the third region of the world (heaven)." Having heard these words uttered by Siva, the king became devout (in heart), made obesiance and directed his thoughts towards Ganga. Then the delightful (river), of pure water in being so thought of by the king, and seeing that the great lord (Siva) was standing (to receive her fall), came down all of a sudden from the sky. And seeing that she had taken her leap from the sky, the gods, together with the mighty saints, the Gandharvas, the snakes, and the Yakshas, assembled there as spectators. Then came down from the sky Ganga, the daughter of the snowy mountain. And her whirlpools were raging, and she was teeming with fishes and sharks. O king! she directing her course towards the sea, separated herself, into three streams; and her water was bestrewn with piles of froth, which looked like so many rows of (white) ganders. And crooked and tortuous in the movement of her body, at places; and at others stumbling as it were; and covered with foam as with a robe: she went forward like a woman drunk. And elsewhere, by virtue of the roar of her waters, she uttered loud sounds. Thus assuming very many different aspects, when she fell from the sky, and reached the surface of the earth, she said to Bhagiratha, "O great king! show me the path that I shall have to take. O lord of the earth! for thy sake have I descended to the earth." Having heard these words, king Bhagiratha directed his course towards the spot where lay those bodies of mighty Sagara's sons, in order that, O most praiseworthy of men, the holy water might flood (the same). Having achieved the task of sustaining Ganga, Siva, saluted by men, went to Kailasa the most praiseworthy of mountains, accompanied by the celestials. And the protector of men (Bhagiratha) accompanied by Ganga reached the sea; and the sea, the abode of Varuna, was quickly filled. And the king adopted Ganga as a daughter of himself, and at that spot offered libations of water to the names of his forefathers; thus was his heart's wish fulfilled. Thus asked by thee, I have narrated the whole story how Ganga running in three streams, was brought down to the earth for filling the sea; how the mighty saint had drunk up the sea for a particular reason, and how, O lord! Vatapi, the slayer of Brahmanas, was destroyed by Agastya.'" SECTION CX Vaisampayana said, "O chief of the Bharata race! then the son of Kunti went at a slow pace to the two rivers Nanda and Aparananda, which had the virtue of destroying the dread of sin. And the protector of men having reached the healthy hill Hemakuta, beheld there very many strange and inconceivable sights. There the very utterance of words caused the gathering of clouds, and a thousand volleys of stones. And people at its sight were struck sad, and were unable to ascend the hill. There the winds blew for aye, and the heavens always poured down rains; and likewise the sounds of the recitation of the sacred writ were heard, yet nobody was seen. In the evening and in the morning would be seen the blessed fire that carries offerings to the gods and there flies would bite and interrupt the practice of austerities. And there a sadness would overtake the soul, and people would become sick. The son of Pandu, having observed very many strange circumstances of this character again addressed his questions to Lomasa with reference to these wonderful things. "Lomasa said, 'O slayer of foes! O king! I am going to tell thee as we heard it before; do thou attend to the same with intent mind. In this peak of Rishava, there was once a saint known by that name. And his life had lasted for many hundred years. And he was devoted to penances and was greatly wrathful. And he, forsooth, for having been spoken to by others, from wrath addressed the hill thus, "Whoever should utter any words here, thou must throw stones at him, and thou must call up the winds to prevent him from making any noise." This was what the saint said. And so at this place, as soon as a man utters any words, he is forbidden by a roaring cloud. O king! thus these deeds were performed by that great saint, and from wrath he also forbade other acts. O king! tradition says that when the gods of yore had come to the Nanda, suddenly came over (there) a number of men to look at the celestials. Those same gods at whose head stood Indra did not, however, like to be seen; and so they rendered this spot inaccessible, by raising obstructions in the form of hills. And from that day forward, O Kunti's son! men could not cast their eyes at any time on what looked like a hill, far less could they ascend the same. This big mountain is incapable of being seen by one who hath not led an austere life, nor can such a one ascend it. Therefore, O son of Kunti! keep thou thy tongue under control. Here at that time all those gods performed the best sacrificial rites. O Bharata's son! Even up to this day these marks thereof may be seen. This grass here hath the form of the sacred _kusa_ grass: the ground here seemeth to be overspread with the sacred grass; and, O lord of men! many of these trees here look like the spots for tying the sacrificial beasts. O Bharata's son! still the Gods and saints have residence here; and their sacred fire is observed in the morning and in the evening. Here if one bathes, his sin is forthwith destroyed, O Kunti's son! O most praiseworthy of the race of Kuru! do thou, therefore, perform thy ablutions, together with thy younger brothers. Then after having washed thyself in the Nanda, thou wilt repair to the river Kausiki, the spot where the most excellent and severest form of penances was practised by Viswamitra.' Then the king with his attendants, having washed his body there, proceeded to the river Kausiki, which was pure and delightful and pleasant with cool water. "Lomasa said, 'This is the pure divine river by name Kausiki. O chief of Bharata's race! and this is the delightful hermitage of Viswamitra, conspicuous here. And this is a hermitage, with a holy name, belonging to Kasyapa of mighty soul; whose son was Rishyasringa, devoted to penances, and of passions under control. He by force of his penances caused Indra to rain; and that god, the slayer of the demons Vala and Vritra, dreading him, poured down rain during a drought. That powerful and mighty son of Kasyapa was born of a hind. He worked a great marvel in the territory of Lomapada. And when the crops had been restored, king Lomapada gave his daughter Santa in marriage to him, as the sun gave in marriage his daughter Savitri.' "Yudhishthira said, 'How was the son of Kasyapa, Rishyasringa, born of a hind? And how was he endowed with holiness, being the issue of a reprehensible sexual connexion? And for what reason was Indra, the slayer of the demons Vala and Vritra, afraid of that same sagacious boy, and poured down rain during a period of drought? And how beautiful was that princess Santa, pure in life, she who allured the heart of him when he had turned himself into a stag? And since the royal saint Lomapada is said to have been of a virtuous disposition, why was it that in his territory, Indra, the chastiser of the demon Paka, had withheld rain? O holy saint! all this in detail, exactly as it happened, thou wilt be pleased to narrate to me, for I am desirous of hearing the deeds of Rishyasringa's life.' "Lomasa said, 'Hear how Rishyasringa, of dreaded name, was born as a son to Vibhandaka, who was a saint of the Brahmana caste, who had cultured his soul by means of religious austerities, whose seed never failed in causing generation, and who was learned and bright like the Lord of beings. And the father was highly honoured, and the son was possessed of a mighty spirit, and, though a boy, was respected by aged men. And that son of Kasyapa, Vibhandaka, having proceeded to a big lake, devoted himself to the practice of penances. And that same saint, comparable to a god, laboured for a long period. And once while he was washing his mouth in the waters, he beheld the celestial nymph Urvasi--whereupon came out his seminal fluid. And, O king! a hind at that time lapped it up along with the water that she was drinking, being athirst; and from this cause she became with child. That same hind had really been a daughter of the gods, and had been told of yore by the holy Brahma, the creator of the worlds, "Thou shall be a hind; and when in that form, thou shall give birth to a saint; thou shalt then be freed." As Destiny would have it, and as the word of the creator would not be untrue, in that same hind was born his (Vibhandaka's) son a mighty saint. And Rishyasringa, devoted to penances, always passed his days in the forest. O king! there was a horn on the head of that magnanimous saint and for this reason did he come to be known at the time by the name of Rishyasringa. And barring his father, not a man had ever before been seen by him; therefore his mind, O protector of men! was entirely devoted to the duties of a continent life. At this very period there was a ruler of the land of Anga known by the name of Lomapada who was a friend of Dasaratha. We have heard that he from love of pleasure had been guilty of a falsehood towards a Brahmana. And that same ruler of the world had at that time been shunned by all persons of the priestly class. And he was without a ministering priest (to assist him in his religious rites). And the god of a thousand eyes (Indra) suddenly abstained from giving rain in his territory; so that his people began to suffer and O lord of the earth! he questioned a number of Brahmanas, devoted to penances, of cultivated minds, and possessed of capabilities with reference to the matter of rain being granted by the lord of gods, saying, "How may the heavens grant us the rain? Think of an expedient (for this purpose)." And those same cultured men, being thus questioned, gave expression to their respective views. And one among them--the best of saints--spake to that same king, saying, "O lord of kings! the Brahmanas are angry with thee. Do some act (therefore) for appeasing them. O ruler of the earth! send for Rishyasringa, the son of a saint, resident of the forest knowing nothing of the female sex, and always taking delight in simplicity. O king! if he, great in the practice of penances, should show himself in thy territory, forthwith rain would be granted by the heavens, herein I have no doubt at all." And, O king! having heard these words Lomapada made atonement for his sins. And he went away; and when the Brahmanas had been appeased, he returned again, and seeing the king returned, the people were again glad at heart. Then the king of Anga convened a meeting of his ministers, proficient in giving counsel. And he took great pains in order to settle some plan for securing a visit from Rishyasringa. And, O unswerving (prince)! with those ministers, who were versed in all branches of knowledge, and exceedingly proficient in worldly matters, and had a thorough training in practical affairs, he at last settled a plan (for gaining his object). And then he sent for a number of courtesans, women of the town, clever in everything. And when they came, that same ruler of the earth spake to them, saying, "Ye lovely women! Ye must find some means to allure, and obtain the confidence of the son of the saint--Rishyasringa, whom ye must bring over to my territory." And those same women, on the one hand afraid of the anger of the king and on the other, dreading a curse from the saint, became sad and confounded, and declared the business to be beyond their power. One, however, among them--a hoary woman, thus spake to the king, "O great king! him whose wealth solely consists in penances, I shall try to bring over here. Thou wilt, however, have to procure for me certain things, in connection with the plan. In that case, I may be able to bring over the son of the saint--Rishyasringa." Thereupon the king gave an order that all that she might ask for should be procured. And he also gave a good deal of wealth and jewels of various kinds. And then, O Lord of the earth, she took with herself a number of women endowed with beauty and youth, and went to the forest without delay.'" SECTION CXI "Lomasa said, 'O descendant of Bharata! she in order to compass the object of the king, prepared a floating hermitage, both because the king had ordered so, and also because it exactly accorded with her plan. And the floating hermitage, containing artificial trees adorned with various flowers and fruits, and surrounded by diverse shrubs and creeping plants and capable of furnishing choice and delicious fruits, was exceedingly delightful, and nice, and pleasing, and looked as if it had been created by magic. Then she moored the vessel at no great distance from the hermitage of Kasyapa's son, and sent emissaries to survey the place where that same saint habitually went about. And then she saw an opportunity; and having conceived a plan in her mind, sent forward her daughter, a courtesan by trade and of smart sense. And that clever woman went to the vicinity of the religious man and arriving at the hermitage beheld the son of the saint. "'The courtesan said, "I hope, O saint! that is all well with the religious devotees. And I hope that thou hast a plentiful store of fruits and roots and that thou takest delight in this hermitage. Verily I come here now to pay thee a visit. I hope the practice of austerities among the saints is on the increase. I hope that thy father's spirit hath not slackened and that he is well pleased with thee. O Rishyasringa of the priestly caste! I hope thou prosecutest the studies proper for thee." "'Rishyasringa said, "Thou art shining with lustre, as if thou wert a (mass) of light. And I deem thee worthy of obeisance. Verily I shall give thee water for washing thy feet and such fruits and roots also as may be liked by thee, for this is what my religion hath prescribed to me. Be thou pleased to take at thy pleasure thy seat on a mat made of the sacred grass, covered over with a black deer-skin and made pleasant and comfortable to sit upon. And where is thy hermitage? O Brahmana! thou resemblest a god in thy mien. What is the name of this particular religious vow, which thou seemest to be observing now?" "'The courtesan said, "O son of Kasyapa! on the other side of yonder hill, which covers the space of three Yojanas, is my hermitage--a delightful place. There, not to receive obeisance is the rule of my faith nor do I touch water for washing my feet. I am not worthy of obeisance from persons like thee; but I must make obeisance to thee. O Brahmana! This is the religious observance to be practised by me, namely, that thou must be clasped in my arms." "'Rishyasringa said, "Let me give thee ripe fruits, such as gallnuts, myrobalans, _Karushas, Ingudas_ from sandy tracts and Indian fig. May it please thee to take a delight in them!"' "Lomasa said, 'She, however, threw aside all those edible things and then gave him unsuitable things for food. And these were exceedingly nice and beautiful to see and were very much acceptable to Rishyasringa. And she gave him garlands of an exceedingly fragrant scent and beautiful and shining garments to wear and first-rate drinks; and then played and laughed and enjoyed herself. And she at his sight played with a ball and while thus employed, looked like a creeping plant broken in two. And she touched his body with her own and repeatedly clasped Rishyasringa in her arms. Then she bent and broke the flowery twigs from trees, such as the Sala, the Asoka and the Tilaka. And overpowered with intoxication, assuming a bashful look, she went on tempting the great saint's son. And when she saw that the heart of Rishyasringa had been touched, she repeatedly pressed his body with her own and casting glances, slowly went away under the pretext that she was going to make offerings on the fire. On her departure, Rishyasringa became over-powered with love and lost his sense. His mind turned constantly to her and felt itself vacant. And he began to sigh and seemed to be in great distress. At that moment appeared Vibhandaka, Kasyapa's son, he whose eyes were tawny like those of a lion, whose body was covered with hair down to the tip of the nails, who was devoted to studies proper for his caste, and whose life was pure and was passed in religious meditation. He came up and saw that his son was seated alone, pensive and sad, his mind upset and sighing again and again with upturned eyes. And Vibhandaka spake to his distressed son, saying, "My boy! why is it that thou art not hewing the logs for fuel. I hope thou hast performed the ceremony of burnt offering today. I hope thou hast polished the sacrificial ladles and spoons and brought the calf to the milch cow whose milk furnisheth materials for making offerings on the fire. Verily thou art not in thy wonted state, O son! Thou seemest to be pensive, and to have lost thy sense. Why art thou so sad today? Let me ask thee, who hath been to this place today?"'" SECTION CXII "'Rishyasringa said, "Here came to-day a religious student with a mass of hair on his head. And he was neither short nor tall. And he was of a spirited look and a golden complexion, and endued with eye large as lotuses; and he was shining and graceful as a god. And rich was his beauty blazing like the Sun; and he was exceedingly fair with eyes graceful and black. And his twisted hair was blue-black and neat and long and of a fragrant scent and tied up with strings of gold. A beautiful ornament was shining on his neck which looked like lightning in the sky. And under the throat he had two balls of flesh without a single hair upon them and of an exceedingly beautiful form. And his waist was slender to a degree and his navel neat; and smooth also was the region about his ribs. Then again there shone a golden string from under his cloth, just like this waist-string of mine. And there was something on his feet of a wonderful shape which give forth a jingling sound. Upon his wrists likewise was tied a pair of ornaments that made a similar sound and looked just like this rosary here. And when he walked, his ornaments uttered a jingling sound like those uttered by delighted ganders upon a sheet of water. And he had on his person garments of a wonderful make; these clothes of mine are by no means beautiful like those. And his face was wonderful to behold; and his voice was calculated to gladden the heart; and his speech was pleasant like the song of the male blackbird. And while listening to the same I felt touched to my inmost soul. And as a forest in the midst of the vernal season, assumes a grace only when it is swept over by the breeze, so, O father! he of an excellent and pure smell looks beautiful when fanned by the air. And his mass of hair is neatly tied up and remains adhering to the head and forehead evenly sundered in two. And his two eyes seemed to be covered with wonderful Chakravaka birds of an exceedingly beautiful form. And he carried upon his right palm a wonderful globur fruit, which reaches the ground and again and again leaps up to the sky in a strange way. And he beats it and turns himself round and whirls like a tree moved by the breeze. And when I looked at him, O father! he seemed to be a son of the celestials, and my joy was extreme, and my pleasure unbounded. And he clasped my body, took hold of my matted hair, and bent down my mouth, and, mingling his mouth with my own, uttered a sound that was exceedingly pleasant. And he doth not care for water for washing his feet, nor for those fruits offered by me; and he told me that such was the religious observance practised by him. And he gave unto me a number of fruits. Those fruits were tasteful unto me: these here are not equal to them in taste. They have not got any rind nor any stone within them, like these. And he of a noble form gave me to drink water of an exceedingly fine flavour; and having drunk it, I experienced great pleasure; and the ground seemed to be moving under my feet. And these are the garlands beautiful and fragrant and twined with silken threads that belong to him. And he, bright with fervent piety, having scattered these garlands here, went back to his own hermitage. His departure hath saddened my heart; and my frame seems to be in a burning sensation! And my desire is to go to him as soon as I can, and to have him every day walk about here. O father, let me this very moment go to him. Pray, what is that religious observance which is being practised by him. As he of a noble piety is practising penances, so I am desirous to live the same life with him. My heart is yearning after similar observances. My soul will be in torment if I see him not."'" SECTION CXIII "'Vibhandaka said, "Those are, O son! Rakshasas. They walk about in that wonderfully beautiful form. Their strength is unrivalled and their beauty great. And they always meditate obstruction to the practice of penances. And, O my boy, they assume lovely forms and try to allure by diverse means. And those fierce beings hurled the saints, the dwellers of the woods, from blessed regions (won by their pious deeds). And the saint who hath control over his soul, and who is desirous of obtaining the regions where go the righteous, ought to have nothing to do with them. And their acts are vile and their delight is in causing obstruction to those who practise penance; (therefore) a pious man should never look at them. And, O son! those were drinks unworthy to be drunk, being as they were spirituous liquors consumed by unrighteous men. And these garlands, also, bright and fragrant and of various hues, are not intended for saints." Having thus forbidden his son by saying that those were wicked demons, Vibhandaka went in quest of her. And when by three day's search he was unable to trace where she was he then came back to his own hermitage. In the meanwhile, when the son of Kasyapa had gone out to gather fruits, then that very courtesan came again to tempt Rishyasringa in the manner described above. And as soon as Rishyasringa had her in sight, he was glad and hurriedly rushing towards him said, "Let us go to thy hermitage before the return of my father." Then, O king! those same courtesans by contrivances made the only son of Kasyapa enter their bark, and unmoored the vessel. And by various means they went on delighting him and at length came to the side of Anga's king. And leaving then that floating vessel of an exceedingly white tint upon the water, and having placed it within sight of the hermitage, he similarly prepared a beautiful forest known by the name of the _Floating Hermitage_. The king, however, kept that only son of Vibhandaka within that part of the palace destined for the females when of a sudden he beheld that rain was poured by the heavens and that the world began to be flooded with water. And Lomapada, the desire of his heart fulfilled, bestowed his daughter Santa on Rishyasringa in marriage. And with a view to appease the wrath of his father, he ordered kine to be placed, and fields to be ploughed, by the road that Vibhandaka was to take, in order to come to his son. And the king also placed plentiful cattle and stout cowherds, and gave the latter the following order: "'"When the great saint Vibhandaka should enquire of you about his son, ye must join your palms and say to him that these cattle, and these ploughed fields belong to his son and that ye are his slaves, and that ye are ready to obey him in all that he might bid." Now the saint, whose wrath was fierce, came to his hermitage, having gathered fruits and roots and searched for his son. But not finding him he became exceedingly wroth. And he was tortured with anger and suspected it to be the doing of the king. And therefore, he directed his course towards the city of Champa having made up his mind to burn the king, his city, and his whole territory. And on the way he was fatigued and hungry, when he reached those same settlements of cowherds, rich with cattle. And he was honoured in a suitable way by those cowherds and then spent the night in a manner befitting a king. And having received very great hospitality from them, he asked them, saying, "To whom, O cowherds, do ye belong?" Then they all came up to him and said, "All this wealth hath been provided for thy son." At different places he was thus honoured by that best of men, and saw his son who looked like the god Indra in heaven. And he also beheld there his daughter-in-law, Santa, looking like lightning issuing from a (cloud). And having seen the hamlets and the cowpens provided for his son and having also beheld Santa, his great resentment was appeased. And O king of men! Vibhandaka expressed great satisfaction with the very ruler of the earth. And the great saint, whose power rivalled that of the sun and the god of fire, placed there his son, and thus spake, "As soon as a son is born to thee, and having performed all that is agreeable to the king, to the forest must thou come without fail." And Rishyasringa did exactly as his father said, and went back to the place where his father was. And, O king of men! Santa obediently waited upon him as in the firmament the star Rohind waits upon the Moon, or as the fortunate Arundhati waits upon Vasishtha, or as Lopamudra waits upon Agastya. And as Damayanti was an obedient wife to Nala, or as Sachi is to the god who holdeth the thunderbolt in his hand or as Indrasena, Narayana's daughter, was always obedient to Mudgala, so did Santa wait affectionately upon Rishyasringa, when he lived in the wood. This is the holy hermitage which belonged to him. Beautifying the great lake here, it bears holy fame. Here perform thy ablutions and have thy desire fulfilled. And having purified thyself, direct thy course towards other holy spots.'" SECTION CXIV Vaisampayana said, "Then, O Janamejaya, the son of Pandu started from the river Kausiki and repaired in succession to all the sacred shrines. And, O protector of men, he came to the sea where the river Ganga falls into it; and there in the centre of five hundred rivers, he performed the holy ceremony of a plunge. Then, O ruler of the earth, accompanied by his brothers, the valiant prince proceeded by the shore of the sea towards the land where the Kalinga tribes dwell. "Lomasa said, 'There is the land, O Kunti's son, where the Kalinga tribes dwell. Through it passeth the river Vaitarani, on the banks whereof even the god of virtue performed religious rites, having first placed himself under the protection of the celestials. Verily, this is the northern bank, inhabited by saints, suitable for the performance of religious rites beautified by a hill, and frequented by persons of the regenerate caste. This spot (in holiness) rivals the path whereby a virtuous man, fit for going to heaven, repairs to the region inhabited by gods. And verily at this spot in former times, other saints likewise worshipped the immortals by the performance of religious rites. And at the very spot it was that the god Rudra, O king of kings, seized the sacrificial beast and exclaimed, "This is my share!" O chief of the descendants of Bharata, then when the beast was carried away by Siva, the gods spake to him saying, "Cast not a covetous glance at the property of others, disregarding all the righteous rules." Then they addressed words of glorification of a pleasing kind to the god Rudra. And they satisfied him by offering a sacrifice, and paid him suitable honours. Thereupon he gave up the beast, and went by the path trodden by the gods. Thereupon what happened to Rudra, learn from me, O Yudhishthira! Influenced by the dread of Rudra, the gods set apart for evermore, the best allotment out of all shares, such as was fresh and not stale (to be appropriated by the god). Whosoever performs his ablutions at this spot, while reciting this ancient story, beholds with his mortal eyes the path that leads to the region of the gods.'" Vaisampayana said, "Then all the sons of Pandu and likewise the daughter of Drupada--all of whom were the favoured of Fate--descended to the river Vaitarani, and made libations to the manes of their fathers. "Yudhishthira said, 'O Lomasa, how great must be the force of a pious deed! Having taken my bath at this spot in a proper form, I seem to touch no more the region inhabited by mortal men! O saint of a virtuous life, I am beholding all the regions. And this is the noise of the magnanimous dwellers of the wood, who are reciting their audible prayers.' "Lomasa said, 'O Yudhishthira, the place whence this noise comes and reaches thy ears is at the distance of three hundred thousand _yojanas_, to be sure. O lord of men, rest thou quiet and utter no word. O king, this is the divine forest of the Self-existent One, which hath now come to our view. There, O king, Viswakarma of a dreaded name performed religious rites. On the mighty occasion of that sacrifice, the Self-existent One made a gift of this entire earth with all its hilly and forest tracts, to Kasyapa, by way of gratuity, for ministering as a priest. And then, O Kuru's son, as soon as that goddess Earth was giving away, she became sad at heart, and wrathfully spake the following words to that great lord, the ruler of the worlds, "O mighty god, it is unworthy of thee to give me away to an ordinary mortal. And this act of gift on thy part will come to nothing; (for) here am I going to descend into the bottom of the nether world." Then when the blessed saint Kasyapa beheld the goddess Earth, despondent and sad, he, O protector of men, performed a propitiatory act calculated to appease her wrath. And then, O Pandu's son, the Earth was pleased with his pious deed. And she uprose again from within the waters, and showed herself in the form of a sacred altar. This, O king, is the spot which distinctly manifests the form of an altar. O great monarch, ascend over it, and thou wilt gain valour and strength. And, O king, this is the very altar which reaches as far as the sea, and rests itself upon its bosom. May good luck be thine, do thou mount hereupon, and of thyself cross the sea. And while thou this day mountest upon it, I shall administer the ceremony for averting all evil from thee; for this altar here, as soon as it gets a mortal's touch, at once enters into the sea. _Salutation to the god who protects the universe! Salutation to thee that art beyond the universe! O Lord of gods, vouchsafe thy presence in this sea._ O Pandu's son, thou must recite the following words of truth, and while so reciting, thou must quickly ascend this altar, "The god of fire, and the sun, and the organ of generation, and water, and goddess and the seed of Vishnu, and the navel of nectar. The god of fire is the organ that generated the (ocean); the earth is thy body; Vishnu deposited the seed that caused thy being and thou art the navel of nectar." Thus, O Pandu's son, the words of truth must be audibly recited, and while so reciting, one must plunge into the lord of rivers. O most praiseworthy of Kunti's son, otherwise this lord of waters of divine birth, this best storehouse of the waters (of the earth), should not be touched, O son of Kunti, even with the end of a sacred grass.'" Vaisampayana said, "Then when the ceremony for averting evil had been completed in his behalf, the magnanimous Yudhishthira went into the sea, and having performed all that the saint had bid, repaired to the skirts of the Mahendra hill, and spent the night at that spot." SECTION CXV Vaisampayana said, "The protector of the earth spent there a single night, and with his brothers, paid the highest honours to the religious men. And Lomasa made him acquainted with the names of all of them, such as the _Bhrigus_, the _Angiras_, the _Vasishthas_, and the _Kasyapas_. And the royal saint paid visit to them all and made obeisance to them with joined palms. And then he asked the valiant Akritavrana, who was a follower of Parasurama, 'when will the revered Parasurama show himself to the religious men here? It is desired on that occasion to obtain a sight of the descendant of Bhrigu.' "Akritavrana said, 'Thy journey to this spot is already known to Rama, whose soul spontaneously knows everything. And he is in every way well-pleased with thee, and he will show himself readily to thee. And the saints who practise penances here, are permitted to see him on the fourteenth and the eighth day of the lunar course. On the morrow at the end of this very night there will set in the fourteenth day of the lunar course. On that occasion thou wilt have a sight of him, clad in a sable deerskin, and wearing his hair in the form of a matted mass.' "Yudhishthira said, 'Thou hast been a follower of the mighty Rama, Jamadagni's son; thou must, therefore, have been the eye-witness of all the deeds achieved by him in former days. I, therefore, request thee to narrate to me how the members of the military caste were vanquished by Rama on the field of battle, and what the original cause of those conflicts was.' "Akritavrana said, 'With pleasure shall I recite to thee that excellent story, O Bharata's son, O chief of kings, the story of the godlike deeds of Rama, the son of Jamadagni, who traced his origin to Bhrigu's race. I shall also relate the achievements of the great ruler of the _Haihaya_ tribe. That king, Arjuna by name, the mighty lord of the _Haihaya_ tribe was killed by Rama. He, O Pandu's son, was endued with a thousand arms; and by the favour of Dattatreya he likewise had a celestial car made of gold. And, O protector of the earth, his rule extended over the entire animated world, wheresoever located on this earth. And the car of that mighty monarch could proceed everywhere in an unobstructed course. And grown resistless by the virtue of a granted boon, he ever mounted on that car, trampled upon gods and _Yakshas_ and saints on all sides round. And all the born beings wheresoever placed, were harassed by him. Then the celestials and the saints of a rigidly virtuous life, met together, and thus spake to Vishnu, the god of gods, the slayer of demons, and possessed of prowess that never failed, saying, "O blessed and revered lord, for the purpose of preserving all the born beings, it is necessary that Arjuna should be killed by thee." And the mighty ruler of the Haihaya tribe placing himself on his celestial car, affronted Indra, while that deity was enjoying himself with Sachi, his queen. Then, O Bharata's son, the blessed and the revered god (Vishnu) held a consultation with Indra, with a view to destroying Kartavirya's son. And on that occasion, all that was for the good of the world of beings, was communicated by the lord of gods; and the blessed god worshipped by the world, to do all that was necessary, went to the delightful _Vadari_ wood which was his own chosen retreat for practising penances. And at this very time there lived on the earth a mighty monarch in the land of _Kanyakuvja_, a sovereign whose military force was exceedingly great. And his name of Gadhi was famous in the world. He, however, betook himself to a forest-life. And while he was dwelling in the midst of the wood, there was born to him a daughter beautiful as a nymph of heaven. And Richika, the son of Bhrigu, asked for her to be united with himself in marriage. And then Gadhi spake to that Brahmana, who led a rigidly austere life, saying, "There is a certain family custom in our race; it hath been founded by my ancestors of a bygone age. And, O most excellent of the sacerdotal caste, be it known to thee that the intending bridegroom must offer a dowry consisting of a thousand fleet steeds, whose colour must be brown and every one of whom must possess a single sable ear. But, O Bhrigu's son, a reverend saint like thee cannot be asked to offer the same. Nor can my daughter be refused to a magnanimous saint of thy (exalted) rank." Thereupon Richika said, "I will give thee a thousand fleet steeds, brown in hue and possessing a single sable ear; let thy daughter be given in marriage to me."' "Akritavrana said, 'Thus having given his word, O king, he went and said to Varuna, "Give me a thousand fleet steeds brown in colour, and each with one black ear. I want the same as dowry for my marriage." To him Varuna forthwith gave a thousand steeds. Those steeds had issued out of the river Ganga; hence the spot hath been named, _The horse's landing place_. And in the city of Kanyakuvja, the daughter of Gadhi, Satyavati by name, was given in marriage; and the gods themselves were of the party of the bride. Richika, the most excellent of the sacerdotal caste, thus procured a thousand steeds, and had a sight of the dwellers of heaven and won a wife in the proper form. And he enjoyed himself with the girl of slender waist, and thus gratified all the wishes and desire that he ever had. And when the marriage had been celebrated, O king, his father Bhrigu came on a visit to see him and his wife; and he was glad to see his praiseworthy son. And the husband and wife together paid their best respects to him, who was worshipped by all the gods. And when he had seated himself, they both with joined palms, stood near him, in order that they might do his bidding. And then the revered saint, Bhrigu, glad at heart, thus spoke to his daughter-in-law, saying, "O lovely daughter, as for a boon I am ready to grant thee any object of thy wish." And there upon she asked for his favour in this, that a son might be born to both herself and her mother. And he vouchsafed the favour thus asked for. "'Bhrigu said, "During the days that your season lasts, thou and thy mother must take a bath, with the ceremony for bringing forth a male child. And ye two must then separately embrace two different trees--she a peepal tree, and thou a fig tree. And, O dutiful girl, here are two pots of rice and milk, prepared by me with the utmost care. I having ransacked the whole universe to find the drugs, the essence whereof hath been blended with this milk and rice. It must be taken as food with the greatest care." And saying this, he vanished from sight. The two ladies, however, made an interchange both in the matter of the pots of rice, and likewise as regards the trees (to be embraced by each). Then after the lapse of very many days, the revered saint, once more came. And he came knowing (what had happened) by his attribute of divine knowledge. Then Bhrigu possessed of mighty strength, spake to Satyavati, his daughter-in-law, saying, "O dutiful girl! O my daughter of a lovely brow, the wrong pot of rice thou tookest as food. And it was the wrong tree which was embraced by thee. It was thy mother who deluded thee. A son will be born of thee, who, though of the priestly caste, will be of a character fit for the military order; while a mighty son will be born of thy mother, who, though by birth a Kshatriya will assume a life suitable to the sacerdotal order. And his power will be great, and he will walk on the path trodden by righteous men." Then she entreated her father-in-law again and again, saying, "Let not my son be of this character; but let my grandson be such." And, O Pandu's son, he replied, "So let it be!" And thus he was pleased to grant her prayer. Then she brought forth on the expected day a son by name Jamadagni. And this son of Bhrigu was endowed with both splendour and grace. And he grew in years and in strength, and excelled the other saints in the proficiency of his _Vaidik_ lore. O chieftain of Bharata's race, to him, rivalling in lustre the author of light (the sun), came spontaneously and without instruction the knowledge of the entire military art and of the fourfold missile arms.'" SECTION CXVI "Akritavrana said, 'Jamadagni devoted himself to the study of the _Veda_ and the practice of sacred penances, and became famous for his great austerities. Then he pursued a methodical course of study and obtained a mastery over the entire Veda. And, O king, he paid a visit to Prasenajit and solicited the hand of Renuka in marriage. And this prayer was granted by the king. And the delight of Bhrigu's race having thus obtained Renuka for his wife, took his residence with her in a hermitage, and began to practice penances, being assisted by her. And four boys were born of her, with Rama for the fifth. And although the youngest, Rama was superior to all in merit. Now once upon a time, when her sons had gone out for the purpose of gathering fruits, Renuka who had a pure and austere life, went out to bathe. And, O king, while returning home, she happened to cast her glance towards the king of Martikavata, known by the name of Chitraratha. The king was in the water with his wives, and wearing on his breast a lotus wreath, was engaged in sport. And beholding his magnificent form, Renuka was inspired with desire. And this unlawful desire she could not control, but became polluted within the water, and came back to the hermitage frightened at heart. Her husband readily perceived what state she was in. And mighty and powerful and of a wrathful turn of mind, when he beheld that she had been giddy and that the lustre of chastity had abandoned her, he reproached her by crying out "Fie!" At that very moment came in the eldest of Jamadagni's sons, Rumanvan; and then, Sushena, and then, Vasu, and likewise, Viswavasu. And the mighty saint directed them all one by one to put an end to the life of their mother. They, however, were quite confounded and lost heart. And they could not utter a single word. Then he in ire cursed them. And on being cursed they lost their sense and suddenly became like inanimate objects, and comparable in conduct to beasts and birds. And then Rama, the slayer of hostile heroes, came to the hermitage, last of all. Him the mighty-armed Jamadagni, of great austerities, addressed, saying, "Kill this wicked mother of thine, without compunction, O my son." Thereupon Rama immediately took up an axe and therewith severed his mother's head. Then, O great king, the wrath of Jamadagni of mighty soul, was at once appeased; and well-pleased, he spake the following words, "Thou hast, my boy, performed at my bidding this difficult task, being versed in virtue. Therefore, whatsoever wishes there may be in thy heart, I am ready to grant them all. Do thou ask me." Thereupon Rama solicited that his mother might be restored to life, and that he might not be haunted by the remembrance of this cruel deed and that he might not be affected by any sin, and that his brothers might recover their former state, and that he might be unrivalled on the field of battle, and that he might obtain long life. And, O Bharata's son, Jamadagni, whose penances were the most rigid, granted all those desires of his son. Once, however, O lord, when his sons had gone out as before, the valourous son of Kartavirya, the lord of the country near the shore of the sea, came up to the hermitage. And when he arrived at that hermitage, the wife of the saint received him hospitably. He, however, intoxicated with a warrior's pride, was not at all pleased with the reception accorded to him, and by force and in defiance of all resistance, seized and carried off from that hermitage the chief of the cows whose milk supplied the sacred butter, not heeding the loud lowing of the cow. And he wantonly pulled down the large trees of the wood. When Rama came home, his father himself told him all that had happened. Then when Rama saw how the cow was lowing for its calf, resentment arose in his heart. And he rushed towards Kartavirya's son, whose last moments had drawn nigh. Then the descendant of Bhrigu, the exterminator of hostile heroes, put forth his valour on the field of battle, and with sharpened arrows with flattened tips, which were shot from a beautiful bow, cut down Arjuna's arms, which numbered a thousand, and were massive like (wooden) bolts for barring the door. He, already touched by the hand of death, was overpowered by Rama, his foe. Then the kinsmen of Arjuna, their wrath excited against Rama, rushed at Jamadagni in his hermitage, while Rama was away. And they slew him there; for although his strength was great, yet being at the time engaged in penances, he would not fight. And while thus attacked by his foes, he repeatedly shouted the name of Rama in a helpless and piteous way. And, O Yudhishthira, the sons of Kartavirya shot Jamadagni, with their arrows, and having thus chastised their foe, went their way. And when they had gone away, and when Jamadagni had breathed his last, Rama, the delight of Bhrigu's race, returned to the hermitage, bearing in his arms, fuel for religious rites. And the hero beheld his father who had been put to death. And grieved exceedingly he began to bewail the unworthy fate that had laid his father low.'" SECTION CXVII "'Rama said, "The blame is mine, O father, that like a stag in the wood, thou hast been shot dead with arrows, by those mean and stupid wretches--the sons of Kartavirya. And O father, virtuous and unswerving from the path of righteousness and inoffensive to all animated beings as thou wert, how came it to be permitted by Fate that thou shouldst die in this way? What an awful sin must have been committed by them, who have killed thee with hundreds of sharpened shafts, although thou wert an aged man, and engaged in penances at the time and absolutely averse to fighting with them. With what face will those shameless persons speak of this deed of theirs to their friends and servants, _viz_., that they have slain an unassisted and unresisting virtuous man?"--O protector of men, thus he, great in penance, bewailed much in a piteous manner, and then performed the obsequies of his departed sire. And Rama, the conqueror of hostile cities, cremated his father on the funeral pyre, and vowed, O scion of Bharata's race, the slaughter of the entire military caste, and of exceeding strength in the field of battle, and possessed of valour suited to a heroic soul, and comparable to the god of death himself, he took up his weapon in wrathful mood, and singlehanded put Kartavirya's sons to death. And, O chieftain of the military caste, Rama, the leader of all capable of beating their foes, thrice smote down all the Kshatriya followers of Kartavirya's sons. And seven times did that powerful lord exterminate the military tribes of the earth. In the tract of land, called Samantapanchaka five lakes of blood were made by him. There the mightiest scion of Bhrigu's race offered libations to his forefathers--the Bhrigus, and Richika appeared to him in a visible form, and spake to him words of counsel. Then the son of Jamadagni of dreaded name, performed a mighty sacrifice and gratified the lord of the celestials, and bestowed the earth to the ministering priests. And, O protector of human beings, he raised an altar made of gold, ten _Vyamas_ in breadth and nine in height, and made a gift of the same to the magnanimous Kasyapa. Then at Kasyapa's bidding the Brahmanas divided the altar into a number of shares, and thus they became reputed as the _Khandavayamas_ (share takers). And the exterminator of the military race possessed of immense strength, bestowed the earth upon the high-souled Kasyapa, and then became engaged in penance of an exceedingly severe form. He now dwells in this Mahendra, monarch of hills. Thus did hostilities arise between him and the members of the military caste,--all of them who dwell on this earth; and Rama, endowed with immense strength, in this way subdued the entire world.'" Vaisampayana said, "Then on the fourteenth day of the moon, the mighty-souled Rama at the proper hour showed himself to those members of the priestly caste and also to the virtuous king (Yudhishthira) and his younger brothers. And, O king of kings, the lord together with his brothers, worshipped Rama, and, O most righteous of the rulers of men, the very highest honours were paid by him to all those members of the twice-born class. And after worshipping Jamadagni's son and having received words of praise from him, at his direction he spent the night on the Mahendra hill, and then started on his journey towards the southern regions." SECTION CXVIII Vaisampayana said, "The magnanimous monarch pursued his journey, and at different spots on the shore of the sea visited the various bathing places, all sacred and pleasant and frequented by men of the sacerdotal caste. And O son of Parikshit! He in proper form took his bath in them together with his younger brothers and then went to an excellent river, the holiest of all. There also the magnanimous king, took his plunge, and offered libations to his forefathers and the gods, and distributed riches to the leaders of the twice-born class. Then he went to the Godavari, a river that falls directly into the sea. There he was freed from his sins. And he reached the sea in the Dravida land, and visited the holy spot passing under Agastya's name, which was exceedingly sacred and exceptionally pure. And the valiant king visited the feminine sacred spots. Here he listened to the story of that well-known feat which was achieved by Arjuna, chief of all wielders of the bow, and which was beyond the power of human beings to perform. And here he was praised by the highest members of the saintly class, and the son of Pandu experienced the greatest delight. And, O protector of the earth! the ruler of the world, accompanied by Krishna bathed in those holy spots, and speaking of Arjuna's valour in laudatory terms delightfully spent his time in the place. Then he gave away thousands of cows at those holy spots on the coast of the sea; and with his brothers narrated well pleased how Arjuna had made a gift of kine. And he, O king! visited one by one those holy places on the coast of the sea and many other sacred spots, and thus fulfilled his heart's desire, till he came to the holiest of all known by the name of Suparaka. Then having crossed a certain tract on the coast of the sea, he reached a forest celebrated on earth. There the deities had practised asceticism in former days, and likewise virtuous rulers of men had performed sacrificial rites. There he, possessed of long and lusty arms, beheld the celebrated altar of Richika's son, who was the foremost of all wielders of the bow. And the altar was girt round by hosts of ascetics, and was fit to be worshipped by persons of a virtuous life. Then the king beheld the holy and delightful shrines of all the gods and of the Vasus, and of the hosts of wind and of the two celestial physicians and of Yatna, son of the sun and of the lord of riches, and of Indra, and of Vishnu, and of the lord Creator and of Siva, and of the moon, and of the author of day, and of the lord of waters, and of the host of Sadhyas, and of Brahma, and of the forefathers, and of Rudra together with all his followers, and of the goddess of learning, and of the host of Siddhas, and of many immortal holy gods besides. And in those shrines the king observed various fasts, and gave away large quantities of gems. He plunged his body in all the holy spots, and then came again to Surparaka. And he by the same landing-place of the sea again proceeded with his uterine brothers and came over to the holy spot Prabhasa, whereof fame hath been spread by mighty Brahmanas throughout the world. There he, possessed of a pair of large red eyes, washed himself with all his younger brothers, and offered libations to the forefathers and the celestial hosts; and so did Krishna and all those Brahmanas together with Lomasa. For twelve days he subsisted upon air and water. And he performed ablutions for days and nights and surrounded himself with fires kindled on all sides. Thus that greatest of all virtuous men engaged himself in asceticism. While he was acting thus, information reached both Valarama and Krishna that the king was practising penances of a most austere form and these two leaders of the entire Vrishni tribe accompanied with troops came to Yudhishthira of Ajamidha's race. And when the Vrishnis beheld that the sons of Pandu lay down on the ground, their bodies besmeared all over with dirt and when they beheld the daughter of Drupada in a sad state, their grief was great and they could not refrain from breaking out in loud lamentations. Then the king, whose courage was such that misfortune never could cast him down, cordially met Rama and Krishna and Samva, Krishna's son, and the grand-son of Sini and other Vrishnis, and paid honour to them in a suitable form. And they also in return paid honour to all the sons of Pritha, and were similarly honoured by Pandu's sons. And they seated themselves round about Yudhishthira, as round Indra, O king! are seated the celestial hosts. And highly pleased, he recounted to them all the machinations of his adversaries, and how also he had resided in the forest, and how Arjuna had gone to Indra's abode in order to learn the science of arms--all this he related with a gladdened heart. And they were happy to learn all this news from him; but when they saw the Pandavas so exceedingly lean, the majestic and magnanimous Vrishnis could not forbear shedding tears, which spontaneously gushed from their eyes on account of the agony they felt." SECTION CXIX Janamejaya said, "O thou of ascetic wealth! when the sons of Pandu and the Vrishnis reached the holy spot Prabhasa, what did they do and what conversation was held there by them, for all of them were of mighty souls, proficient in all the branches of science and both the Vrishnis and the sons of Pandu held one another in friendly estimation." Vaisampayana said, "When the Vrishnis reached the holy spot Prabhasa, the sacred landing-place on the coast of the sea, they surrounded the sons of Pandu and waited upon them. Then Valarama, resembling in hue the milk of the cow and the Kunda flower and the moon and the silver and the lotus root and who wore a wreath made of wild flowers and who had the ploughshare for his arms, spake to the lotuseyed one, saying, 'O Krishna, I do not see that the practice of virtue leads to any good or that unrighteous practices can cause evil, since the magnanimous Yudhishthira is in this miserable state, with matted hair, a resident of the wood, and for his garment wearing the bark of trees. And Duryodhana is now ruling the earth, and the ground doth not yet swallow him up. From this, a person of limited sense would believe a vicious course of life is preferable to a virtuous one. When Duryodhana is in a flourishing state and Yudhishthira, robbed of his throne, is suffering thus, what should people do in such a matter?--This is the doubt that is now perplexing all men. Here is the lord of men sprung from the god of virtue, holding fast to a righteous path, strictly truthful and of a liberal heart. This son of Pritha would give up his kingdom and his pleasure but would not swerve from the righteous path, in order to thrive. How is it that Bhishma and Kripa and the Brahmana Drona and the aged king, the senior member of the house, are living happily, after having banished the sons of Pritha? Fie upon the vicious-minded leaders of Bharata's race! What will that sinner, the chieftain of the earth, say to the departed forefathers of his race, when the wretch will meet them in the world to come? Having hurled from the throne his in-offensive sons, will he be able to declare that he had treated them in a blameless way? He doth not now see with his mind's eye how he hath become so sightless, and on account of what act he hath grown blind among the kings of this entire earth. Is it not because he hath banished Kunti's son from his kingdom? I have no doubt that Vichitravirya's son, when he with his sons perpetrated this inhuman act, beheld on the spot where dead bodies are burnt, flowering trees of a golden hue. Verily he must have asked them, when those stood before him with their shoulders projected forward towards him, and with their large red eyes staring at him, and he must have listened to their evil advice, since he fearlessly sent away Yudhishthira to the forest, who had all his weapons of war with him and was borne company by his younger brothers. This Bhima here, whose voracious appetite is like that of a wolf, is able to destroy with the sole strength of his powerful arms, and without the help of any weapons of war, a formidable array of hostile troops. The forces in the field of battle were utterly unmanned on hearing his war-cry. And now the strong one is suffering from hunger and thirst, and is emaciated with toilsome journeys. But when he will take up in his hand arrows and diverse other weapons of war, and meet his foes in the field of battle, he will then remember the sufferings of his exceedingly miserable forest-life, and kill his enemies to a man: of a certainty do I anticipate this. There is not throughout the whole world a single soul who can boast of strength and prowess equal to his. And his body, alas! is emaciated with cold, and heat and winds. But when he will stand up for fight, he will not leave a single man out of his foes. This powerful hero, who is a very great warrior when mounted on a car--this Bhima, of appetite rivalling a wolf's conquered single-handed all the rulers of men in the east, together with, those who followed them in battle; and he returned from those wars safe and uninjured. And that same Bhima, miserably dressed in the bark of trees, is now leading a wretched life in the woods. This powerful Sahadeva vanquished all the kings in the south; those lords of men who had gathered on the coast of the sea,--look at him now in an anchorite's dress. Valiant in battle Nakula vanquished single-handed the kings who ruled the regions towards the west,--and he now walks about the wood, subsisting on fruit and roots, with a matted mass of hair on the head, and his body besmeared all over with dirt. This daughter of a king, who is a great soldier when mounted on a car, took her rise from beneath the altar, during the pomp of sacrificial rites. She hath been always accustomed to a life of happiness; how is she now enduring this exceedingly miserable life in this wood! And the son of the god of virtue,--virtue which stands at the head of all the three pursuits of life--and the son of the wind-god and also the son of the lord of celestials, and those two sons of the celestial physicians,--being the sons of all those gods and always accustomed to a life of happiness, how are they living in this wood, deprived of all comforts? When the son of Virtue met with defeat and when his wife, his brothers, his followers, and himself were all driven forth, and Duryodhana began to flourish, why did not the earth subside with all its hills?'" SECTION CXX "Satyaki said, 'O Rama! this is not the time of lamentation; let us do that which is proper and suited to the present occasion, although Yudhishthira doth not speak a single word. Those who have persons to look after their welfare do not undertake anything of themselves; they have others to do their work, as Saivya and others did for Yayati. Likewise, O Rama! those who have appointed functionaries to undertake their work on their own responsibility, as the leaders of men, they may be said to have real patrons, and they meet with no difficulty, like helpless beings. How is it that when the sons of Pritha have for their patrons these two men, Rama and Krishna, and the two others, Pradyumna and Samva, together with myself,--these patrons being able to protect all the three worlds,--how is it that the son of Pritha is living in the wood with his brothers? It is fit that this very day the army of the Dasarhas should march out, variously armed and with checkered mails. Let Dhritarashtra's sons be overwhelmed with the forces of the Vrishnis and let them go with their friends to the abode of the god of death. Let him alone who wields the bow made of the horn (Krishna), thou alone, if roused, wouldst be able to surround even the whole of this earth. I ask thee to kill Dhritarashtra's son with all his men, as the great Indra, the lord of the gods killed Vritra. Arjuna, the son of Pritha, is my brother, and also my friend, and also my preceptor, and is like the second self of Krishna. It is for this that men desire for a worthy son, and that preceptor seeks a pupil who would contradict him not. It is for this that the time is come for that excellent work, which is the best of all tasks and difficult to perform. I shall baffle Duryodhana's volleys of arms by my own excellent weapons. I shall overpower all in the field of battle. I shall in my wrath cut off his head with my excellent shafts, little inferior to snakes and poison and fire. And with the keen edge of my sword, I shall forcibly sever his head from the trunk, in the field of battle; then I shall kill his followers, and Duryodhana, and all of Kuru's race. O son of Rohini! let the followers of Bhima look at me with joy at their heart, when I shall keep up the weapons of war in the field of battle, and when I shall go on slaying all the best fighting men on the side of the Kurus, as at the end of time fire will burn vast heaps of straw. Kripa and Drona and Vikarna and Karna are not able to bear the keen arrows shot by Pradyumna. I know the power of Arjuna's son--he conducts himself like the son of Krishna in the field of battle. Let Samva chastise by the force of his arms Dussasana; let him destroy by force Dussasana and his charioteer and his car. In the field of battle when the son of Jamvavati becomes irresistible in fight, there is nothing which can withstand his force. The army of the demon Samvara was speedily routed by him when only a boy. By him was killed in fight Asvachakra, whose thighs were round, and whose muscular arms were of exceeding length. Who is there that would be able to go forward to the car of Samva, who is great in fight, when mounted on a car? As a mortal coming under the clutches of death can never escape; so who is there that once coming under his clutches in the field of battle, is able to return with his life? The son of Vasudeva will burn down by the volleys of his fiery shafts all the hostile troops, and those two warriors, Bhishma and Drona,--who are great on a car, and Somadatta surrounded by all his sons. What is there in all the world including the gods, which Krishna cannot encounter on an equal footing, when he takes up the weapons of war, wields in his hands excellent arrows, arms himself with his mace, and thus becomes unrivalled in fight? Then let Aniruddha also take up in his hand his buckler and sword, and let him cover the surface of the earth with Dhritarashtra's sons, their heads separated from their trunks, their bodies devoid of all consciousness as in a sacrificial rite the altar is overspread with sacred grass placed upon the same. And Gada and Uluka, and Vahuka and Bhanu and Nitha and the young Nishatha valiant in battle and Sarana, and Charudeshna, irresistible in war, let them perform feats befitting their race. Let the united army of the Satwatas and Suras, together with the best soldiers of the Vrishnis, the Bhojas, and the Andhakas, kill those sons of Dhritarashtra in the field of battle and let them swell their expanded fame throughout the world. Then let Abhimanyu rule the world so long as this most excellent of virtuous men, the magnanimous Yudhishthira, may be engaged in fulfilling his vow,--the vow that was accepted and declared by him, the most righteous of Kuru's race, on the occasion of the famous play at dice. Afterwards the virtuous king will protect the earth, all his foes defeated in battle by shafts which will be discharged by us. Then there will remain no sons of Dhritarashtra on earth,--nor the son of the charioteer (Karna). This is the most important work for us to do, and this will surely lead to fame.' "Krishna said, 'O scion of the race of Madhu! no doubt what thou sayest is true; we accept thy words, O thou of courage that is never weak! But this bull of the Kuru race (Yudhishthira) would never accept the sovereignty of the earth, unless it were won by the prowess of his own arms. Neither for the sake of pleasure, nor from fear, nor from covetousness, would Yudhishthira ever renounce the rules of the caste; nor would these two heroes, who are mighty, when mounted on a car--Bhima and Arjuna; nor the twin brothers, nor Krishna, the daughter of Drupada. He possessing the appetite of a wolf (Bhima), and the winner of riches (Arjuna), are both unrivalled in fight throughout the world. And why should not this king rule over the entire world when he hath the two sons of Madri to espouse his cause? The high-souled ruler of Panchala together with the Kekaya king, and we also should put forth our united strength, and then would the enemies of Yudhishthira be annihilated.' "Yudhishthira said, 'It is not strange that thou shouldst speak thus, O scion of Madhu's race! but to me truth seems to be the first consideration, above that of my sovereign power itself. But it is Krishna alone who precisely knoweth what I am; and it is I alone who precisely know what Krishna (really) is. O thou endued with valour! O scion of Madhu's race! as soon as he will perceive that the time is come for feats of bravery, then, O most valiant of Sini's race, he also of beautiful hair (Krishna) will defeat Suyodhana. Let the brave men of the Dasarha race go back today. They are my patrons; and the foremost of human beings, they have visited me here. O ye of immeasurable strength! never fall off from the path of virtue. I shall see you again, when ye will be happily gathered together.' "Then after mutual greeting and obeisance to seniors, and having embraced the youthful, those valiant men of the Yadu race and the sons of Pandu separated. And the Yadus reunited to their home; and the Pandavas continued their journey to the sacred spots. Then having parted with Krishna, the virtuous king, accompanied by his brothers and servants, and also by Lomasa, went to the sacred river Payosini. Its fine landing place was constructed by the king of Vidarbha. And he began to dwell on the banks of the Payosini, whose waters were mingled with the distilled Soma juice. There the high-souled Yudhishthira was greeted with excellent laudatory terms by numerous leaders of the twice-born class, who were delighted to see him there." SECTION CXXI "Lomasa said, 'O king! when the Nriga performed a sacrifice here, he gratified Indra, the demolisher of hostile cities, by offering the Soma juice. And Indra was refreshed and was very much pleased. Here the gods together with Indra, and the protectors of all born beings, celebrated sacrifices of various kinds on a large scale, and paid abundant gratuities to the ministering priests. Here king Amurtarayasa, the lord of the world, satisfied Indra, the holder of the thunderbolt, by the offer of the Soma juice, when seven horse-sacrifices were performed by that king. The articles which in other sacrificial rites are uniformly made of the timber, wood and of earth, were all made of gold in the seven sacrifices performed by him. And it is said that in all those rites, seven sets of stakes, rings for the sacrificial stakes, spots, ladles, utensils, spoons were prepared by him. On each sacrificial stake, seven rings were fastened at the top. And, O Yudhishthira! the celestials together with Indra, themselves erected the sacrificial stakes of shining gold which had been prepared for his sacred rites. In all those magnificent sacrifices instituted by Gaya, the protector of the earth, Indra, was delighted by drinking the _Soma_ juice, and the ministering priests were gratified with the gratuities paid to them. And the priests obtained untold wealth counted out to them. And as the sand-grains of the earth, or as the stars in the sky, or as the rain-drops when it raineth, cannot be counted by anyone, so the wealth Gaya gave away was incapable of being counted by figures. So untold was the wealth, O great king! that was given to the ministering priests in all those seven sacrifices that even the above-mentioned objects might be counted by figures, but the gratuities bestowed by him whose largeness exceeded all that was known before were not capable of being counted by figures. And images of the goddess of speech were made of gold by the sculptor of the gods;--and the king gratified the members of the sacerdotal caste, who had arrived from all the cardinal points, by making presents to them of those images, of gold. O protector of men! when the high-souled Gaya performed his sacrificial rites, he erected sacrificial piles at so many different spots that but little space was left on the surface of the earth. And, O scion of Bharata's race! he by that sacred act attained the regions of Indra. Whoever should bathe in the river, Payosini, would go to the regions attained by Gaya. Therefore, O lord of kings! O unswerving prince! thou and thy brothers should bathe in this river; then, O protector of the earth, thou wilt be freed from all these sins.'" Vaisampayana said, "O most praiseworthy of men! Yudhishthira with his brothers performed ablutions in the Payosini river. Then, O sinless prince! the powerful monarch together with his brothers, journeyed to the hill of sapphires and the great river Narmada. The blessed saint Lomasa there named to him all the delightful holy spots and all the sacred shrines of the celestials. Then he with his brothers visited those places, according to his desire and convenience. And at various places Brahmanas by thousands received gifts from him. "Lomasa said, 'O son of Kunti! one who visits the sapphire Hill and plunges his body in the river Narmada attains the regions inhabited by the celestials and kings. O most praiseworthy of men! this period is the junction between the Treta and the Kali age, O Kunti's son! This is the period when a person gets rid of all his sins. O respected sir! this is the spot where Saryati performed sacrificial rites, wherein Indra appeared in a visible form and drank the Soma juice, with the two celestial physicians. And Bhrigu's son of severe austerities conceived anger towards the great Indra; and the mighty Chyavana paralysed Indra, and for his wife obtained the princess, Sukanya.' "Yudhishthira said, 'How was the chastiser of the demon Paka, the god possessed of the six attributes, paralysed by Chyavana? And for what reason did the mighty saint conceive wrath towards Indra? And how, O Brahmana! did he raise the celestial physicians to the rank of the drinkers of Soma? All this, precisely as it happened, thy venerable self will be pleased to recount to me.'" SECTION CXXII "Lomasa said, 'A son was born to the great saint Bhrigu, Chyavana by name. And he, of an exceedingly resplendent form, began to practise austerities by the side of yonder lake. And, O Pandu's son! O protector of men! he of mighty energy assumed the posture called _Vira_, quiet and still like an inanimate post, and for a long period, remained at the same spot of ground. And he was turned into an anthill covered over with creepers. And after the lapse of a long period, swarms of ants enveloped him. And covered all over with ants, the sagacious saint looked exactly like a heap of earth. And he went on practising austerities, enveloped on all sides with that ant-hill. Now after the lapse of a long space of time, that ruler of earth, Saryati by name, for amusement visited this pleasant and excellent lake. With him were four thousand females, espoused by him, O son of Bharata's race! there was also his only daughter endued with beautiful brows, named Sukanya. She surrounded by her maids, and decked out with jewels fit for the celestials, while walking about, approached the anthill where Bhrigu's son was seated. And surrounded by her maids, she began to amuse herself there, viewing the beautiful scenery, and looking at the lofty trees of the wood. And she was handsome and in the prime of her youth; and she was amorous and bent on frolicking. And she began to break the twigs of the forest trees bearing blossoms. And Bhrigu's son endued with intelligence beheld her wandering like lightning, without her maids, and wearing a single piece of cloth and decked with ornaments. And seeing her in the lone forest, that ascetic of exceeding effulgence was inspired with desire. And that regenerate _Rishi_ possessing ascetic energy, who had a low voice, called the auspicious one,--but she heard him not. Then seeing the eyes of Bhrigu's son from the ant-hill, Sukanya from curiosity and losing her sense, said, "_What is this?_"--and with thorns pierced the eyes (of the Rishi). And as his eyes being pierced by her, he felt exceeding pain and became wroth. And (from anger) he obstructed the calls of nature of Saryati's forces. And on their calls of nature being obstructed, the men were greatly afflicted. And seeing this state of things, the king asked. "Who is it that hath done wrong to the illustrious son of Bhrigu, old and ever engaged in austerities and of wrathful temper? Tell me quick if ye know it." The soldiers (thereupon) answered him saying, "We do not know whether any one hath done wrong to the _Rishi_. Do thou, as thou list, make a searching enquiry into the matter." Thereupon that ruler of earth, using (as he saw occasion) both menace and conciliation, asked his friends (about the circumstance). But they too did not know anything. Seeing that the army was distressed owing to the obstruction of the calls of nature, and also finding her father aggrieved, Sukanya said, "Roving in the forest, I lighted in the ant-hill here upon some brilliant substance. Thereupon taking it for a glow-worm I neared it, and pierced it (with thorns)." Hearing this Saryati immediately came to the ant-hill, and there saw Bhrigu's son, old both in years and austerities. Then the lord of earth with joined hands, besought (the ascetic) saying, "It behoveth thee to forgive what my daughter through ignorance and greenness, hath done unto thee." Chyavana the son of Bhrigu, addressed the monarch saying, "Disregarding me, this one, filled with pride hath pierced my eyes. Even her, O king, endued with beauty and who was bereft of her senses by ignorance and temptation--even thy daughter would I have for my bride, I tell thee truly, on this condition alone will I forgive thee."' "Lomasa said, 'Hearing the words of the sage, Saryati, without pausing, bestowed his daughter on the high-souled Chyavana. Having received the hand of that girl, the holy one was pleased with the king. And having won the _Rishi's_ grace, the king went to his city, accompanied by his troops. And the faultless Sukanya also having obtained that ascetic for her husband, began to tend him, practising penances, and observing the ordinance. And that one of a graceful countenance, and void of guile worshipped Chyavana, and also ministered unto guests, and the sacred fire.'" SECTION CXXIII "Lomasa said, 'Once on a time, O king, those celestials, namely the twin Aswins, happened to behold Sukanya, when she had (just) bathed, and when her person was bare. And seeing that one of excellent limbs, and like unto the daughter of the lord of celestials, the nose-born Aswins neared her, and addressed her, saying, "O thou of shapely thighs, whose daughter art thou? And what doest thou in this wood? O auspicious one, O thou of excellent grace, we desire to know this, do thou therefore tell us." Thereupon she replied bashfully unto those foremost of celestials, "Know me as Saryati's daughter, and Chyavana's wife." Thereat the Aswins again spake unto her, smiling. "What for, O fortunate one, hath thy father bestowed thee on a person who is verging on death? Surely, O timid girl, thou shinest in this wood like lightning. Not in the regions of the celestials themselves, O girl, have our eyes lighted on thy like. O damsel, unadorned and without gay robes as thou art, thou beautifiest this wood exceedingly. Still, O thou of faultless limbs, thou canst not look so beautiful, when (as at present) thou art soiled with mud and dirt, as thou couldst, if decked with every ornament and wearing gorgeous apparel. Why, O excellent girl in such plight servest thou a decrepit old husband, and one that hath become incapable of realising pleasure and also of maintaining thee, O thou of luminous smiles? O divinely beautiful damsel, do thou, forsaking Chyavana accept one of us for husband. It behoveth thee not to spend thy youth fruitlessly." "'Thus addressed Sukanya answered the celestials saying, "I am devoted to my husband, Chyavana: do ye not entertain any doubts (regarding my fidelity)." Thereupon they again spake unto her, "We two are the celestial physicians of note. We will make thy lord young and graceful. Do thou then select one of us, _viz._, ourselves and thy husband,--for thy partner. Promising this do thou, O auspicious one, bring hither thy husband." O king, agreeably to their words she went to Bhrigu's son and communicated to him what the two celestials had said. Hearing her message, Chyavana said unto his wife, "Do thou so." Having received the permission of her lord, (she returned to the celestials) and said, "Do ye so." Then hearing her words, _viz_., "Do ye so," they spoke unto the king's daughter. "Let thy husband enter into water." Thereat Chyavana desirous of obtaining beauty, quickly entered into water. The twin Aswins also, O king, sank into the sheet of water. And the next moment they all came out of the tank in surpassingly beautiful forms, and young and wearing burnished earrings. And all, possessed of the same appearance pleasing to behold, addressed her saying, "O fortunate one, do thou choose one of us for spouse. And O beauteous one, do thou select him for lord who may please thy fancy." Finding, however, all of them of the same appearance she deliberated; and at last ascertaining the identity of her husband, even selected him. "'Having obtained coveted beauty and also his wife, Chyavana, of exceeding energy, well pleased, spake these words unto the nose-born celestials: "Since at your hands, an old man, I have obtained youth, and beauty, and also this wife of mine, I will, well pleased, make you quaffers of the Soma juice in the presence of the lord of celestials himself. This I tell you truly." Hearing this, highly delighted, the twins ascended to heaven; and Chyavana and Sukanya too passed their days happily even like celestials.'" SECTION CXXIV "Lomasa said, 'Now the news came to Saryati that Chyavana had been turned into a youth. And well pleased he came, accompanied by his troops, to the hermitage of the son of Bhrigu. And he saw Chyavana and Sukanya, like two children sprung from celestials, and his joy and that of his wife were as great as if the king had conquered the entire world. And the ruler of earth together with his wife was received honourably by that saint. And the king seated himself near the ascetic, and entered into a delightful conversation of an auspicious kind. Then, O king, the son of Bhrigu spake to the king these words of a soothing nature: "I shall, O king, officiate at a religious ceremony to be performed by thee: let the requisite articles, therefore, be procured." Thereat, that protector of earth Saryati, experienced the very height of joy, and O great king, he expressed his approbation of the proposal made by Chyavana. And on an auspicious day, suitable for the commencement of a sacrificial ceremony, Saryati ordered the erection of a sacrificial shrine of an excellent description and splendidly furnished with all desirable things. There Chyavana, the son of Bhrigu, officiated for the king as his priest. Now listen to me relating the wonderful events which happened at that spot. Chyavana took up a quantity of the Soma juice, in order that he might offer the same to the Aswins, who were physicians to the celestials. And while the saint was taking up the intended offering for those celestial twins, Indra pronounced his interdiction, saying, "These Aswins both of them in my opinion have no right to receive an offering of the Soma juice. They are the physicians of the celestials in heaven,--this vocation of theirs hath disentitled them (in the matter of Soma)." Thereupon Chyavana said, "These two are of mighty enterprise, possessed of mighty souls, and uncommonly endued with beauty and grace. And they, O Indra, have converted me into an eternally youthful person, even like unto a celestial. Why shouldst thou and the other celestials have a right to the distilled Soma juice, and not they? O lord of the celestials, O demolisher of hostile towns! be it known to thee that the Aswins also rank as gods." At this, Indra spake saying, "These two practise the healing art,--so they are but servants. And assuming forms at their pleasure they roam about in the world of mortal beings. How can they then rightfully claim the juice of the Soma?"' "Lomasa said, 'When these very identical words were spoken again and again by the lord of celestials, the son of Bhrigu, setting Indra at naught, took up the offering he had intended to make. And as he was about to take up an excellent portion of the Soma juice with the object of offering it to the two Aswins, the destroyer of the demon Vala (Indra) observed his act, and thus spoke unto him, "If thou take up the Soma with a view to offering it to those celestials, I shall hurl at thee my thunderbolt of awful form, which is superior to all the weapons that exist." Thus addressed by Indra, the son of Bhrigu, cast at Indra a smiling glance, and took up in due form a goodly quantity of the Soma juice, to make an offering to the Aswins. Then Sachi's lord hurled at him the thunderbolt of awful form. And as he was about to launch it, his arm was paralysed by Bhrigu's son. And having paralysed his arm, Chyavana recited sacred hymns, and made offering on the fire. His object gained, he now attempted to destroy that celestial. Then by the virtue of that saint's ascetic energy, an evil spirit came into being,--a huge demon, _Mada_ by name, of great strength and gigantic proportions. And his body was incapable of being measured either by demons or by gods. And his mouth was terrible and of huge size, and with teeth of sharpened edge. And one of his jaws rested on the earth, and the other stretched to heaven. And he had four fangs, each extending as far as one hundred _yojanas_, and his other fangs were extended to the distance of ten _yojanas_, and were of a form resembling towers on a palace, and which might be likened to the ends of spears. And his two arms were like unto hills, and extended ten thousand _yojanas_, and both were of equal bulk. And his two eyes resembled the sun and the moon; and his face rivalled the conflagration at the universal dissolution. And he was licking his mouth with his tongue, which, like lightning, knew no rest. And his mouth was open, and his glance was frightful, and seemed as if he would forcibly swallow up the world. The demon rushed at the celestial by whom a hundred sacrifices had been performed. And his intent was to devour that deity. And the world resounded with the loud and frightful sounds uttered by the Asura.'" SECTION CXXV "Lomasa said, 'When the god who had performed a hundred sacrifices (Indra) beheld the demon _Mada_ of a frightful mien, coming towards him with open mouth, his intention being to devour him, and looking like the god of death himself, while his own arms remained paralysed, he through fear repeatedly licked the corners of his mouth. Then the lord of the celestials, tortured with fright, spake to Chyavana saying, "O Bhrigu's son! O Brahmana! verily I tell thee as truth itself, that from this day forward the two Aswins will be entitled to the Soma juice. Be merciful to me! My undertaking can never come to naught. Let this be the rule. And I know, O saint of the sacerdotal caste! that thy work can never come to nothing. These two Aswins will have a right to drink the Soma juice, since thou hast made them entitled to the same. And, O Bhrigu's son, I have done this but to spread the fame of thy powers, and my object was to give thee an occasion for displaying thy powers. My other object was that the fame of the father of this Sukanya here might spread everywhere. Therefore be merciful to me: let it be as thou wishest." Being thus addressed by Indra, the wrath of Chyavana of mighty soul was quickly appeased, and he set free the demolisher of hostile cities (Indra). And the powerful saint, O king! distributed _Mada_ (_literally_ intoxication), and put it piece-meal in drinks, in women, in gambling, and in field sports, even this same _Mada_ who had been created repeatedly before. Having thus cast down the demon _Mada_ and gratified Indra with a Soma draught and assisted king Sarvati in worshipping all the gods together with the two Aswins and also spread his fame for power over all the worlds, the best of those endued with speech passed his days happily in the wood, in the company of Sukanya, his loving wife. This is his lake, shining, O king! and resounding with the voice of birds. Here must thou, together with thy uterine brothers, offer libations of water to thy forefathers and the gods. And, O ruler of earth! O scion of Bharata's race! having visited it and Sikataksha also, thou shalt repair to the Saindhava wood, and behold a number of small artificial rivers. And O great king, O scion of Bharata's race! thou shalt touch the waters of all the holy lakes and reciting the hymns of the god Sthanu (Siva), meet with success in every undertaking. For this is the junction, O most praiseworthy of men, of the two ages of the world, _viz_., _Dwapara_ and _Treta_. It is a time, O Kunti's son! capable of destroying all the sins of a person. Here do thou perform ablutions, for the spot is able to remove all the sins of an individual. Yonder is the Archika hill, a dwelling place for men of cultured minds. Fruits of all the seasons grow here at all times and the streams run for ever. It is an excellent place fit for the celestials. And there are the holy cairns of diverse forms, set up by the celestials. O Yudhishthira! this is the bathing spot belonging to the Moon. And the saints are in attendance here on all sides round--they are the dwellers of the wood and the Valakhilyas, and the Pavakas, who subsist on air only. These are three peaks and three springs. Thou mayst walk round them all, one by one: then thou mayst wash thyself at pleasure. Santanu, O king! and Sunaka the sovereign of men, and both _Nara_ and _Narayana_ have attained everlasting regions from this place. Here did the gods constantly lie down, as also the forefathers, together with the mighty saints. In this Archika hill, they all carried on austerities. Sacrifice to them, O Yudhishthira! Here did they, also the saints, eat rice cooked in milk, O protector of men! And here is the Yamuna of an exhaustless spring. Krishna here engaged himself in a life of penances, O Pandu's son. O thou that draggest the dead bodies of thy foes! the twin brothers, and Bhimasena and Krishna and all of us will accompany thee to this spot. O lord of men, this is the holy spring that belongeth to Indra. Here the creative and the dispensing deity, and Varuna also rose upwards, and here too they dwelt, O king! observing forbearance, and possessed of the highest faith. This excellent and propitious hill is fit for persons of a kindly and candid disposition. This is that celebrated Yamuna, O king! frequented by hosts of mighty saints, the scene of diverse religious rites, holy, and destructive of the dread of sin. Here did Mandhata himself, of a mighty bow, perform sacrificial rites for the gods; and so did Somaka, O Kunti's son! who was the son of Sahadeva, and a most excellent maker of gifts.'" SECTION CXXVI "Yudhishthira said, 'O great Brahmana, how was that tiger among kings, Mandhata, Yuvanaswa's son, born,--even he who was the best of monarchs, and celebrated over the three worlds? And how did he of unmeasured lustre attain the very height of real power, since all the three worlds were as much under his subjection, as they are under that of Vishnu of mighty soul? I am desirous of hearing all this in connection with the life and achievements of that sagacious monarch. I should also like to hear how his name of Mandhata originated, belonging as it did to him who rivalled in lustre Indra himself: and also how he of unrivalled strength was born, for thou art skilled in the art of narrating events.' "Lomasa said, 'Hear with attention, O king! how the name of Mandhata belonging to that monarch of mighty soul hath come to be celebrated throughout all the worlds. Yuvanaswa, the ruler of the earth, was sprung from Ikshvaku's race. That protector of the earth performed many sacrificial rites noted for magnificent gifts. And the most excellent of all virtuous men performed a thousand times the ceremony of sacrificing a horse. And he also performed other sacrifices of the highest order, wherein he made abundant gifts. But that saintly king had no son. And he of mighty soul and rigid vows made over to his ministers the duties of the state, and became a constant resident of the woods. And he of cultured soul devoted himself to the pursuits enjoined in the sacred writ. And once upon a time, that protector of men, O king! had observed a fast. And he was suffering from the pangs of hunger and his inner soul seemed parched with thirst. And (in this state) he entered the hermitage of Bhrigu. On that very night, O king of kings! the great saint who was the delight of Bhrigu's race, had officiated in a religious ceremony, with the object that a son might be born to Saudyumni. O king of kings! at the spot stood a large jar filled with water, consecrated with the recitation of sacred hymns, and which had been previously deposited there. And the water was endued with the virtue that the wife of Saudyumni would by drinking the same, bring forth a god-like son. Those mighty saints had deposited the jar on the altar and had gone to sleep, having been fatigued by keeping up the night. And as Saudyumni passed them by, his palate was dry, and he was suffering greatly from thirst. And the king was very much in need of water to drink. And he entered that hermitage and asked for drink. And becoming fatigued, he cried in feeble voice, proceeding from a parched throat, which resembled the weak inarticulate utterance of a bird. And his voice reached nobody's ears. Then the king beheld the jar filled with water. And he quickly ran towards it, and having drunk the water, put the jar down. And as the water was cool, and as the king had been suffering greatly from thirst, the draught of water relieved the sagacious monarch and appeased his thirst. Then those saints together with him of ascetic wealth, awoke from sleep; and all of them observed that the water of the jar had gone. Thereupon they met together and began to enquire as to who might have done it. Then Yuvanaswa truthfully admitted that it was his act. Then the revered son of Bhrigu spoke unto him, saying. "It was not proper. This water had an occult virtue infused into it, and had been placed there with the object that a son might be born to thee. Having performed severe austerities, I infused the virtue of my religious acts in this water, that a son might be born to thee. O saintly king of mighty valour and physical strength! a son would have been born to thee of exceeding strength and valour, and strengthened by austerities, and who would have sent by his bravery even Indra to the abode of the god of death. It was in this manner, O king! that this water had been prepared by me. By drinking this water, O king, thou hast done what was not at all right. But it is impossible now for us to turn back the accident which hath happened. Surely what thou hast done must have been the fiat of Fate. Since thou, O great king, being athirst hast drunk water prepared with sacred hymns, and filled with the virtue of my religious labours, thou must bring forth out of thy own body a son of the character described above. To that end we shall perform a sacrifice for thee, of wonderful effect so that, valorous as thou art, thou wilt bring forth a son equal to Indra. Nor wilt thou experience any trouble on account of the labour pains." Then when one hundred years had passed away, a son shining as the sun pierced the left side of the king endowed with a mighty soul, and came forth. And the son was possessed of mighty strength. Nor did Yuvanaswa die--which itself was strange. Then Indra of mighty strength came to pay him a visit. And the deities enquired of the great Indra, "What is to be sucked by this boy?" Then Indra introduced his own forefinger into his mouth. And when the wielder of the thunderbolt said, "He will suck me," the dwellers of heaven together with Indra christened the boy Mandhata, (_literally_, Me he shall suck). Then the boy having tasted the forefinger extended by Indra, became possessed of mighty strength, and he grew thirteen cubits, O king. And O great king! the whole of sacred learning together with the holy science of arms, was acquired by that masterful boy, who gained all that knowledge by the simple and unassisted power of his thought. And all at once, the bow celebrated under the name of Ajagava and a number of shafts made of horn, together with an impenetrable coat of mail, came to his possession on the very same day, O scion of Bharata's race! And he was placed on the throne by Indra himself and he conquered the three worlds in a righteous way, as Vishnu did by his three strides. And the wheel of the car of that mighty king as irresistible in its course (throughout the world). And the gems, of their own accord, came into the possession of that saintly king. This is the tract of land, O lord of earth, which belonged to him. It abounds in wealth. He performed a number of sacrificial rites of various kinds, in which abundant gratuities were paid to the priests. O king! he of mighty force and unmeasured lustre, erected sacred piles, and performed splendid pious deeds, and attained the position of sitting at Indra's side. That sagacious king of unswerving piety sent forth his fiat, and simply by its virtue conquered the earth, together with the sea--that source of gems--and all the cities (or the earth), O great king! The sacrificial grounds prepared by him were to be found all over the earth on all sides round--not a single spot, but was marked with the same. O great king! the mighty monarch is said to have given to the Brahmanas ten thousand padmas of kine. When there was a drought, which continued for twelve consecutive years, the mighty king caused rain to come down for the growth of crops, paying no heed to Indra, the wielder of the thunder-bolt, who remained staring (at him). The mighty ruler of the Gandhara land, born in the lunar dynasty of kings, who was terrible like a roaring cloud, was slain by him, who wounded him sorely with his shafts. O king! he of cultured soul protected the four orders of people, and by him of mighty force the worlds were kept from harm, by virtue of his austere and righteous life. This is the spot where he, lustrous like the sun, sacrificed to the god. Look at it! here it is, in the midst of the field of the Kurus, situated in a tract, the holiest of all. O preceptor of earth! requested by thee, I have thus narrated to thee the great life of Mandhata, and also the way in which he was born, which was a birth of an extraordinary kind.'" Vaisampayana said, "O scion of Bharata's race! Kunti's son, thus addressed by the mighty saint, Lomasa, immediately put fresh questions to him, with regard to Somaka." SECTION CXXVII "Yudhishthira said, 'O best of speakers! what was the extent of power and strength possessed by king Somaka? I am desirous of hearing an exact account of his deeds and of his power.' "Lomasa said, 'O Yudhishthira! there was a virtuous king Somaka by name. He had one hundred wives, O king, all suitably matched to their husband. He took great care, but could not succeed in getting a single son from any one of them, and a long time elapsed during which he continued a sonless man. Once upon a time, when he had become old, and was trying every means to have a son, a son was born to him, Jantu by name, out of that century of women. And, O ruler of men! All the mothers used to sit surrounding their son and every one giving him such objects as might conduce to his enjoyment and pleasure. And it came to pass that one day an ant stung the boy at his hip. And the boy screamed loudly on account of the pain caused by the sting. And forthwith the mothers were exceedingly distressed to see how the child had been stung by the ant. And they stood around him and set up cries. Thus there arose a tumultuous noise. And that scream of pain suddenly reached (the ears of) the sovereign of the earth, when he was seated in the midst of his ministers, with the family priest at his side. Then the king sent for information as to what it was about. And the royal usher explained to him precisely what the matter was with reference to his son. And Somaka got up together with his ministers and hastened towards the female apartments. And on coming there, O subjugator of foes! he soothed his son. And having done so and coming out from the female apartments, the king sat with his family priest and ministers. "'Somaka then spoke thus, "Fie on having only a single son! I had rather be a sonless man. Considering how constantly liable to disease are all organized beings, to have an only son is but a trouble. O Brahmana! O my lord! With the view that I might have many sons born to me, this century of wives hath been wedded by me, after inspection, and after I had satisfied myself that they would prove suitable to me. But issue they have none. Having tried every means, and put forth great efforts, they have borne this single son, Jantu. What grief can be greater than this? O most excellent of the twice-born caste! I am grown old in years and so are my wives too. And yet this only son is like the breath of their nostrils, and so he is to me also. But is there any ceremony, by celebrating which one may get a hundred sons? (And if there is one such), tell me whether it is great or small, and easy or difficult to perform." "'The family priest said, "There is a ceremony by virtue of which a man may get a century of sons. If thou art able to perform it, O Somaka, then I shall explain it to thee." "'Somaka said, "Whether it be a good or an evil deed, the ceremony by which a hundred sons may be born, may be taken by thee as already performed. Let thy blessed self explain it to me." "'The family priest thereupon said, "O king! Let me set on foot a sacrifice and thou must sacrifice thy son, Jantu in it. Then on no distant date, a century of handsome sons will be born to thee. When Jantu's fat will be put into the fire as an offering to the gods, the mothers will take a smell of that smoke, and bring forth a number of sons, valourous and strong. And Jantu also will once more be born as a self-begotten son of thine in that very (mother); and on his back there will appear a mark of gold."'" SECTION CXXVIII "'Somaka said, "O Brahmana! whatever is to be performed--do precisely as it may be necessary. As I am desirous of having a number of sons, I shall do all that may be prescribed by thee."' "Lomasa said, 'Then the priest officiated in the sacrifice in which Jantu was offered as the victim. But the mothers as in pity forcibly snatched the son and took him away. And they cried, "We are undone!" And they were smitten with torturing grief and they caught hold of Jantu by his right hand, and wept in a piteous way. But the officiating priest held the boy by the right hand and pulled him. And like female ospreys they screamed in agony! but the priest dragged the son, killed him, and made a burnt offering of his fat in the proper form. And, O delight of the race of Kuru! While the fat was being made an offering of the agonised mothers smelt its smell, and of a sudden fell to the ground (and swooned away.) And then all those lovely women became with child, and O lord of men! O scion of Bharata's race! When ten months had passed a full century of sons was born to Somaka begotten on all those women. And, O monarch of the earth! Jantu became the eldest and was born of his former mother and he became the most beloved to the women,--not so were their own sons. And on his back there was that mark of gold and of that century of sons, he was also superior in merit. Then that family priest of Somaka departed this life as also Somaka after a certain time. Now he beheld that the priest was being grilled in a terrible hell. And thereupon he questioned him, "Why art thou, O Brahmana! being grilled in this hell?" Then the family priest exceedingly scorched with fire, spake to him saying, "This is the outcome of my having officiated in that sacrifice of thine." O king, hearing this, the saintly king thus spake to the god who meteth out punishments to departed souls, "I shall enter here. Set free my officiating priest; this reverend man is being grilled by hell-fire on my account only." "'Dharmaraja thereat answered thus, "One cannot enjoy or suffer for another person's acts. O best of speakers! these are the fruits of thy acts; see it here." "'Somaka said, "Without this Brahmana here, I desire not go to the blessed regions. My desire is to dwell in company with this very man, either in the abode of the gods, or in hell, for, O Dharmaraja! my deed is identical with what hath been done by him and the fruit of our virtuous or evil deed must be the same for both of us." "'Dharmaraja said, "O king! If this is thy wish, then taste with him the fruit of that act, for the same period that he must do. After that thou shall go to the blessed regions."' "Lomasa said, 'The lotus-eyed king did all that exactly in the way prescribed to him. And when his sins were worked off, he was set free together with the priest. O king! Fond of the priest as he was, he won all those blessings to which he had entitled himself by his meritorious acts and shared everything with the family priest. This is his hermitage which looketh lovely before our eyes. Any one would attain the blessed regions, if he should spend six nights here controlling his passions. O king of kings! O leader of the tribe of Kurus! Here, free from excitement and self-controlled, we must spend six nights. Be thou ready therefor.'" SECTION CXXIX "Lomasa said, 'Here, O king! The lord of born beings himself performed a sacrifice in former times,--the ceremony called _Ishtikrita_, which occupied one thousand years. And Amvarisha, son of Nabhaga, sacrificed near the Yamuna river. And having sacrificed there, he gave away ten _Padmas_ (of gold coins) to the attendant priests, and he obtained the highest success by his sacrifices and austerities. And, O Kunti's son! This is the spot where that sovereign of the entire earth, Nahusha's son, Yayati, of unmeasured force, and who led a holy life, performed his sacrificial rites. He competed with Indra and performed his sacrifice here. Behold how the ground is studded with places for the sacrificial fires of various forms, and how the earth seems to be subsiding here under the pressure of Yayati's pious works. This is the Sami tree, which hath got but a single leaf, and this is a most excellent lake. Behold these lakes of Parasurama, and the hermitage of Narayana. O protector of earth! This is the path which was followed by Richika's son, of unmeasured energy, who roamed over the earth, practising the Yoga rites in the river Raupya. And, O delight of the tribe of Kurus! Hear what a _Pisacha_ woman (she-goblin), who was decked with pestles for her ornaments, said (to a Brahmana woman), as I was reciting here the table of genealogy. (She said), "Having eaten curd in Yugandhara, and lived in Achutasthala, and also bathed in Bhutilaya, thou shouldst live with thy sons." Having passed a single night here, if thou wilt spend the second, the events of the night will be different from those that have happened to thee in the day-time, O most righteous of Bharata's race! Today we shall spend the night at this very spot. O scion of Bharata's race! this is the threshold of the field of the Kurus. O king! At this very spot, the monarch Yayati, son of Nahusha, performed sacrificial rites, and made gifts of an abundance of gems. And Indra was pleased with those sacred rites. This is an excellent holy bathing-place on the river Yamuna, known as Plakshavatarana (descent of the banian tree). Men of cultured minds call it the entrance to the region of heaven. O respected sir! here, after having performed sacrificial rites of the Saraswata king, and making use of the sacrificial stake for their pestle, the highest order of saints performed the holy plunge prescribed at the end of a sacred ceremony. O monarch! King Bharata here performed sacrificial rites. To celebrate the horse-sacrifice, he here set free the horse who was the intended victim. That monarch had won the sovereignty of the earth by righteousness. The horse he let go more than once were of a colour checkered with black. O tiger among men! it was here that Marutta sheltered by Samvartta, leader of saints, succeeded in performing excellent sacrifices. O sovereign of kings! Having taken his bath at this spot, one can behold all the worlds, and is purified from his evil deeds. Do thou, therefore, bathe at this spot.'" Vaisampayana said, "Then that most praiseworthy of Pandu's sons, there bathed with his brothers, while the mighty saints were uttering laudatory words to him. And he addressed the following words to Lomasa, 'O thou whose strength lieth in truthfulness! By virtue of this pious act, I behold all the worlds. And from this place, I behold that most praiseworthy of Pandu's sons Arjuna, the rider of white steed.' "Lomasa said, 'It is even so, O thou of powerful arms! The saints of the highest order thus behold all the regions. Behold this holy Saraswati here, thronged by persons who look upon her as their sole refuge. O most praiseworthy of men! having bathed here, thou wilt be free from all thy sins. O Kunti's son! here the celestial saints performed sacrificial rites of Saraswata king: and so did the saints and the royal saints. This is the altar of the lord of beings, five _yojanas_ in extent on all sides round. And this is the field of the magnanimous Kurus, whose habit it was to perform sacrifices.'" SECTION CXXX "Lomasa said, 'O son of Bharata's race! If mortals breathe their last at this spot, they go to heaven. O king! Thousands upon thousands of men come to this place to die. A blessing was pronounced on this spot by Daksha, when he was engaged in sacrifice here, (in these words), "Those men that shall die at this spot shall win a place in heaven." Here is the beautiful and sacred river, Saraswati, full of water: and here, O lord of men, is the spot known as _Vinasana_, or the place where the Saraswati disappeared. Here is the gate of the kingdom of the Nishadas and it is from hatred for them that the Saraswati entered into the earth in order that the Nishadas might not see her. Here too is the sacred region of Chamashodbheda where the Saraswati once more became visible to them. And here she is joined by other sacred rivers running seawards. O conqueror of foes, here is that sacred spot known by the name of Sindhu--where Lopamudra accepted the great sage Agastya as her lord and, O thou whose effulgence is like unto that of the sun, here is the sacred _tirtha_ called Prabhasa, the favoured spot of Indra and which removeth all sins. Yonder is visible the region of Vishnupada. And here is the delightful and sacred river, Vipasa. From grief for the death of his sons the great sage Vasistha had thrown himself into this stream, after binding his limbs. And when he rose from the water, lo! he was unfettered. Look, O king with thy brothers at the sacred region of Kasmeera, frequented by holy sages. Here, O scion of Bharata's race, is the spot, where a conference took place between Agni and the sage Kasyapa, and also between Nahusha's son and the sages of the north. And, O great prince, yonder is the gate of the Manasasarovara. In the midst of this mountain, a gap hath been opened by Rama. And here, O prince of prowess incapable of being baffled, is the well-known region of Vatikhanda, which, although adjacent to the gate of Videha, lieth on the north of it. And O bull among men, there is another very remarkable thing connected with this place,--namely, that on the waning of every _yuga_, the god Siva, having the power to assume any shape at will, may be seen with Uma and his followers. In yonder lake also people desirous of securing welfare to the family, propitiate with sacrifices the holder of the great bow Pinaka, in the month of Chaitra. And persons of devotion having passions under control, performing their ablutions in this lake, become free from sins and, without doubt, attain to the holy regions. Here is the sacred _tirtha_ called Vijanaka, where the holy sage Vasistha with his wife Arundhati and also the sage Yavakri obtained tranquillity. Yonder is the lake Kausava, where grown the lotuses called Kausesaya, and here also is the sacred hermitage of Rukmini, where she attained peace, after conquering that evil passion, anger. I think, O prince, that thou hast heard something about that man of meditations, Bhrigutunga. There, O king, before thee is that lofty peak. And, O foremost of kings, yonder is Vitasta, the sacred stream that absolveth men from all sins. The water of this stream is extremely cool and limpid, and it is largely used by the great sages. O prince, behold the holy rivers Jala and Upajala, on either side of the Yamuna. By performing a sacrifice here, king Usinara surpassed in greatness Indra himself. And, O descendant of Bharata, desirous of testing Usinara's merit and also of bestowing boons on him, Indra and Agni presented themselves at his sacrificial ground. And Indra assuming the shape of a hawk, and Agni that of a pigeon, came up to that king. And the pigeon in fear of the hawk, fell upon the king's thigh, seeking his protection.'" SECTION CXXXI "'The hawk said, "All the kings of the earth represent thee as a pious ruler. Wherefore, O prince, has thou then stopped to perpetrate a deed not sanctioned by the ordinance? I have been sore afflicted with hunger. Do thou not withhold from me that which hath been appointed by the Diety for my food,--under the impression that thereby thou servest the interests of virtue, whereas in reality, thou wilt forsake it, (by committing thyself to this act)." Thereupon, the king said, "O best of the feathered race, afflicted with fear of thee, and desirous of escaping from thy hands, this bird, all in a hurry, hath come up to me asking for life. When this pigeon hath in such a manner sought my protection, why dost thou not see that the highest merit is even in my not surrendering it unto thee? And it is trembling with fear, and is agitated, and is seeking its life from me. It is therefore certainly blameworthy to forsake it. He that slayeth a Brahmana, he that slaughtered a cow--the common mother of all the worlds--and he that forsaketh one seeking for protection are equally sinful." Thereat the hawk replied, "O lord of earth, it is from food that all beings derive their life, and it is food also that nourisheth and sustaineth them. A man can live long even after forsaking what is dearest to him, but he cannot do so, after abstaining from food. Being deprived of food, my life, O ruler of men, will surely leave this body, and will attain to regions unknown to such troubles. But at my death, O pious king, my wife and children will surely perish, and by protecting this single pigeon, O prince, thou dost not protect many lives. The virtue that standeth in the way of another virtue, is certainly no virtue at all, but in reality is unrighteousness. But O king, whose prowess consisteth in truth, that virtue is worthy of the name, which is not conflicting. After instituting a comparison between opposing virtues, and weighing their comparative merits, one, O great prince, ought to espouse that which is not opposing. Do thou, therefore, O king, striking a balance between virtues, adopt that which preponderates." At this the king said, "O best of birds, as thou speakest words fraught with much good, I suspect thee to be _Suparna_, the monarch of birds. I have not the least hesitation to declare that thou art fully conversant with the ways of virtue. As thou speakest wonders about virtue, I think that there is nothing connected with it, that is unknown to thee. How canst thou then consider the forsaking of one, seeking for help, as virtuous? Thy efforts in this matter, O ranger of the skies, have been in quest of food. Thou canst, however, appease thy hunger with some other sort of food, even more copious. I am perfectly willing to procure for thee any sort of food that to thee may seem most tasteful, even if it be an ox, or a boar, or a deer, or a buffalo." Thereupon the hawk said, "O great king, I am not desirous of eating (the flesh of) a boar or an ox or the various species of beasts. What have I to do with any other sort of food? Therefore, O bull among the Kshatriyas, leave to me this pigeon, whom Heaven hath today ordained for my food. O ruler of earth, that hawks eat pigeons is the eternal provision. O prince, do not for support embrace a plantain tree, not knowing its want of strength." The king said, "Ranger of the skies, I am willing to bestow on thee this rich province of my race, or any other thing that to thee may seem desirable. With the sole exception of this pigeon, which hath approached me craving my protection, I shall be glad to give unto thee anything that thou mayst like. Let me know what I shall have to do for the deliverance of this bird. But this I shall not return to thee on any condition whatever." "'The hawk said, "O great ruler of men, if thou hast conceived an affection for this pigeon, then cut off a portion of thine own flesh, and weigh it in a balance, against this pigeon. And when thou hast found it equal (in weight) to the pigeon, then do thou give it unto me, and that will be to my satisfaction." Then the king replied, "This request of thine, O hawk, I consider as a favour unto me, and, therefore, I will give unto thee even my own flesh, after weighing it in a balance."' "Lomasa said, 'Saying this, O mighty son of Kunti, the highly virtuous king cut off a portion of his own flesh, and placed it in a balance, against the pigeon. But when he found that pigeon exceeded his flesh in weight, he once more cut off another portion of his flesh, and added it to the former. When portion after portion had been repeatedly added to weigh against the pigeon, and no more flesh was left on his body, he mounted the scale himself, utterly devoid of flesh. "'The hawk then said, "I am Indra, O virtuous king, and this pigeon is Agni, the carrier of the sacrificial clarified butter. We had come unto thy sacrificial ground, desirous of testing thy merit. Since thou hast cut off thy own flesh from thy body, thy glory shall be resplendent, and shall surpass that of all others in the world. As long as men, O king, shall speak of thee, so long shall thy glory endure, and thou shalt inhabit the holy regions." Saying this to the king, Indra ascended to heaven. And the virtuous king Usinara, after having filled heaven and earth with the merit of his pious deeds, ascended to heaven in a radiant shape. Behold, O king, the residence of that noble-hearted monarch. Here, O king, are seen holy sages and gods, together with virtuous and highsouled Brahmanas.'" SECTION CXXXII "Lomasa said, 'See here, O lord of men, the sacred hermitage of Swetaketu, son of Uddalaka, whose fame as an expert in the sacred _mantras_ is so widely spread on earth. This hermitage is graced with cocoanut trees. Here Swetaketu beheld the goddess Saraswati in her human shape, and spake unto her, saying, "May I be endowed with the gift of speech!" In that _yuga_, Swetaketu, the son of Uddalaka, and Ashtavakra, the son of Kahoda, who stood to each other in the relation of uncle and nephew, were the best of those conversant with the sacred lore. Those two Brahmanas, of matchless energy, who bore unto each other the relationship of uncle and nephew, went into the sacrificial ground of king Janaka and there defeated Vandin in a controversy. Worship, O son of Kunti, with thy brothers, the sacred hermitage of him who had for his grandson Ashtavakra, who, even when a mere child, had caused Vandin to be drowned in a river, after having defeated him in a (literary) contest."' "Yudhishthira said, 'Tell me, O Lomasa, all about the power of this man, who had in that way defeated Vandin. Why was he born as _Ashtavakra_ (crooked in eight parts in his body)?' "Lomasa said, 'The sage Uddalaka had a disciple named Kahoda of subdued passions, and entirely devoted to the service of his preceptor and who had continued his studies long. The Brahmana had served his tutor long, and his preceptor, recognising his service, gave him his own daughter, Sujata, in marriage, as well as a mastery over the Shastras. And she became with child, radiant as fire. And the embryo addressed his father while employed in reading, "O father, thou hast been reading the whole night, but (of all that) thy reading doth not seem to me correct. Even in my fetal state I have, by thy favour, become versed in the Shastras and the Vedas with their several branches. I say, O father, that what proceeds from thy mouth, is not correct." Thus insulted in the presence of his disciples, the great sage in anger cursed his child in the womb, saying, "Because thou speakest thus even while in the womb, therefore thou shalt be crooked in eight parts of the body." The child was accordingly born crooked, and the great sage was ever after known by the name of Ashtavakra. Now, he had an uncle named Swetaketu who was the same age with himself. Afflicted by the growth of the child in the womb, Sujata, desirous of riches, conciliating her husband who had no wealth told him in private: "How shall I manage, O great sage, the tenth month of my pregnancy having come? Thou hast no substance whereby I may extricate myself from the exigencies, after I have been delivered." Thus addressed by his wife, Kahoda went unto king Janaka for riches. He was there defeated in a controversy by Vandin, well versed in the science of arguments, and (in consequence) was immersed into water. And hearing that his son-in-law had been defeated in a controversy by Vandin and caused to be drowned by him, Uddalaka spake unto his daughter Sujata, saying, "Thou shall keep it a secret from Ashtavakra." She accordingly kept her counsel--so that Ashtavakra, when born, had heard nothing about the matter. And he regarded Uddalaka as his father and Swetaketu as his brother. And when Ashtavakra was in his twelfth year, Swetaketu one day saw the former seated on his father's lap. And thereat he pulled him by the hand, and on Ashtavakra's beginning to cry, he told him, "It is not the lap of thy father." This cruel communication went direct into Ashtavakra's heart and it pained him sorely. And he went home and asked his mother saying, "Where is my father?" Thereupon Sujata who was greatly afflicted (by his question), and apprehending a curse told him all that had happened. And having heard all, the Brahmana at night said unto his uncle Swetaketu, "Let us go unto the sacrifice of king Janaka, wherein many wonderful things are to be seen. There we shall listen to the controversy between the Brahmanas and shall partake of excellent food. Our knowledge also will increase. The recitation of the sacred Vedas is sweet to hear and is fraught with blessings." Then they both--uncle and nephew--went unto the splendid sacrifice of king Janaka. And on being driven from the entrance, Ashtavakra met the king and addressed him in the following words.'" SECTION CXXXIII "'Ashtavakra said, "When no Brahmana is met with on the way, the way belongeth to the blind, the deaf, the women, carriers of burden, and the king respectively. But when a Brahmana is met with on the way, it belongeth to him alone." Thereupon the king said, "I give the privilege to enter. Do thou, therefore, go in by whatever way thou likest. No fire ever so small is to be slighted. Even Indra himself boweth unto the Brahmanas." At this Ashtavakra said, "We have come, O ruler of men, to witness thy sacrificial ceremony and our curiosity, O king, is very great. And we have come here as guests. We want the permission of thy order (to enter). And, O son of Indradyumna, we have come, desirous of seeing the sacrifice, and to meet king Janaka and speak to him. But thy warder obstructs us and for this our anger burneth us like fever." The warder said, "We carry out the orders of Vandin. Listen to what I have to say. Lads are not permitted to enter here and it is only the learned old Brahmanas that are allowed to enter." Ashtavakra said. "If this be the condition, O warder, that the door is open to those only that are old, then we have a right to enter. We are old and we have observed sacred vows and are in possession of energy proceeding from the Vedic lore. And we have served our superiors and subdued our passions--and have also won proficiency in knowledge. It is said that even boys are not to be slighted,--for a fire, small though it be, burneth on being touched." The warder replied, "O young Brahmana, I consider you a boy, and therefore recite, if you know, the verse demonstrating the existence of the Supreme Being, and adored by the divine sages, and which, although composed of one letter, is yet multifarious. Make no vain boast. Learned men are really very rare." Ashtavakra said, "True growth cannot be inferred from the mere development of the body, as the growth of the knots of the Salmali tree cannot signify its age. That tree is called full-grown which although slender and short, beareth fruits. But that which doth not bear fruits, is not considered as grown." The warder said, "Boys receive instruction from the old and they also in time grow old. Knowledge certainly is not attainable in a short time. Wherefore then being a child, dost thou talk like an old man?" Then Ashtavakra said, "One is not old because his head is gray. But the gods regard him as old who, although a child in years, is yet possessed of knowledge. The sages have not laid down that a man's merit consists in years, or gray hair, or wealth, or friends. To us he is great who is versed in the Vedas. I have come here, O porter, desirous of seeing Vandin in the court. Go and inform king Janaka, who hath a garland of lotuses on his neck, that I am here. Thou shalt to-day see me enter into a dispute with the learned men, and defeat Vandin in a controversy. And when others have been silenced, the Brahmanas of matured learning and the king also with his principal priests, bear witness to the superior or the inferior quality of his attainments." The warder said, "How canst thou, who art but in thy tenth year, hope to enter into this sacrifice, into which learned and educated men only are admitted? I shall, however, try some means for thy admittance. Do thou also try thyself." Ashtavakra then addressing the king said, "O king, O foremost of Janaka's race, thou art the paramount sovereign and all power reposeth in thee. In times of old, king Yayati was the celebrator of sacrifices. And in the present age, thou it is that art performer thereof. We have heard that the learned Vandin, after defeating (in controversy) men expert in discussion, causeth them to be drowned by faithful servants employed by thee. Hearing this, I have come before these Brahmanas, to expound the doctrine of the unity of the Supreme Being. Where is now Vandin? Tell me so that I may approach him, and destroy him, even as the sun destroyeth the stars." Thereupon the king said, "Thou hopest, O Brahmana, to defeat Vandin, not knowing his power of speech. Can those who are familiar with his power, speak as thou dost? He hath been sounded by Brahmanas versed in the Vedas. Thou hopest to defeat Vandin, only because thou knowest not his powers (of speech). Many a Brahmana hath waned before him, even as the stars before the sun. Desirous of defeating him, people proud of their learning, have lost their glory on appearing before him, and have retired from his presence, without even venturing to speak with the members of the assembly." Ashtavakra said, "Vandin hath never entered into disputation with a man like myself, and it is for this only that he looketh upon himself as a lion, and goeth about roaring like one. But to-day meeting me he will lie down dead, even like a cart on the highway, of which the wheels have been deranged." The king said, "He alone is a truly learned man who understandeth the significance of the thing that hath thirty divisions, twelve parts twenty-four joints, and three hundred and sixty spokes." Ashtavakra said, "May that ever-moving wheel that hath twenty-four joints, six naves, twelve peripheries, and sixty spokes protect thee!"[19] The king said, "Who amongst the gods beareth those two which go together like two mares (yoked to a car), and sweep like a hawk, and to what also do they give birth?" Ashtavakra said, "May God, O king, forfend the presence of these two[20] in thy house; aye, even in the house of thine enemies. He who appeareth, having for his charioteer the wind,[21] begetteth them, and they also produce him." Thereupon the king said, "What is that doth not close its eyes even while sleeping; what is it that doth not move, even when born; what is it that hath no heart; and what doth increase even in its own speed?" Ashtavakra said, "It is a fish[22] that doth not close its eye-lids, while sleeping; and it is an a egg[23] that doth not move when produced; it is stone[24] that hath no heart; and it is a river[25] that increase in its own speed." [19] This wheel is the wheel of Time--i.e., measured according to the solar, lunar and astral revolutions. The importance of Ashtavakra's reply is this: May the meritorious deeds performed at proper times, during the revolution of this wheel of Time protect thee. [20] Thunder and lightning or misery and death. [21] Cloud or the mind. [22] The male being that is ever conscious. [23] The mundane egg. [24] The soul that has renounced connection with the body. [25] The heart of a _Yogi_. "'The king said, "It seemeth, O possessor of divine energy, that thou art no human being. I consider thee not a boy, but a matured man; there is no other man who can compare with thee in the art of speech. I therefore give thee admittance. There is Vandin."'" SECTION CXXXIV "'Ashtavakra said, "O king, O leader of fierce legions, in this assembly of monarchs of unrivalled power who have met together, I am unable to find out Vandin, chief of the controversialists. But I am searching for him, even as one doth for a swan on a vast expanse of water. O Vandin, thou regardest thyself as the foremost of controversialists. When though wilt engage with me in staking, thou wilt not be able to flow like the current of a river. I am like a full-flaming fire. Be silent before me, O Vandin! Do not awaken a sleeping tiger. Know that thou shalt not escape unstung, after trampling on the head of a venomous snake, licking the corners of its mouth with its tongue, and who hath been hurt by thy foot. That weak man who, in pride of strength, attempts to strike a blow at a mountain, only gets his hands and nails hurt, but no wound is left on the mountain itself. As the other mountains are inferior to the Mainaka, and as calves are inferior to the ox, so are all other kings of the earth inferior to the lord of Mithila. And as Indra is the foremost of celestials, and as the Ganga is the best of rivers, so thou alone art, O king, the greatest of monarchs. O king, cause Vandin to be brought to my presence."' "Lomasa said, 'Saying this, O Yudhishthira, wroth with Vandin, Ashtavakra thus thundered in the assembly, and addressed him in these words, "Do thou answer my questions, and I shall answer thine." Thereat Vandin said, "One only fire blazeth forth in various shapes; one only sun illumineth this whole world; one only hero, Indra, the lord of celestials, destroyeth enemies; and one only Yama is the sole lord of the Pitris."[26] Ashtavakra said, "The two friends, Indra and Agni, ever move together; the two celestial sages are Narada and Parvata; twins are the Aswinikumaras; two is the number of the wheels of a car; and it is as a couple that husband and wife live together, as ordained by the deity."[27] Vandin said, "Three kinds of born beings are produced by acts; the three Vedas together perform the sacrifice, Vajapeya; at three different times, the Adhwaryus commence sacrificial rites; three is the number of words: and three also are the divine lights."[28] Ashtavakra said, "Four are the Asramas of the Brahmanas; the four orders perform sacrifices; four are the cardinal points; four is the number of letters; and four also, as is ever known, are the legs of a cow."[29] Vandin said, "Five is the number of fires; five are the feet of the metre called _Punki_; five are the sacrifices; five locks, it is said in the Vedas, are on the heads of the Apsaras; and five sacred rivers are known in the world."[30] Ashtavakra said, "Six cows, it is asserted by some, are paid as a gratuity on the occasion of establishing the sacred fire; six are the seasons belonging to the wheel of time; six is the number of the senses; six stars constitute the constellation _Kirtika_; and six, it is found in all the Vedas, is the number of the Sadyaska sacrifice."[31] Vandin said, "Seven is the number of the domesticated animals; seven are the wild animals; seven metres are used in completing a sacrifice; seven are the _Rishis_, seven forms of paying homage are extant (in the world); and seven, it is known, are the strings of the Vina."[32] Ashtavakra said, "Eight are the bags containing a hundred fold; eight is the number of the legs of the Sarabha, which preyeth upon lions; eight Vasus, as we hear, are amongst the celestials; and eight are the angles of _yupa_ (stake), in all sacrificial rites."[33] Vandin said, "Nine is the number of the mantras used in kindling the fire in sacrifices to the _Pitris_; nine are the appointed functions in the processes of creation; nine letters compose the foot of the metre, Vrihati; and nine also is ever the number of the figures (in calculation)."[34] Ashtavakra said, "Ten is said to be the number of cardinal points, entering into the cognition of men in this world; ten times hundred make up a thousand; ten is the number of months, during which women bear; and ten are the teachers of true knowledge, and ten, the haters thereof, and ten again are those capable of learning it."[35] Vandin said, "Eleven are the objects enjoyable by beings; eleven is the number of the _yupas_; eleven are the changes of the natural state pertaining to those having life; and eleven are the Rudras among the gods in heaven."[36] Ashtavakra said, "Twelve months compose the year; twelve letters go to the composition of a foot of the metre called _Jagati_; twelve are the minor sacrifices; and twelve, according to the learned, is the number of the Adityas."[37] Vandin said, "The thirteenth lunar day is considered the most auspicious; thirteen islands exist on earth."'[38] [26] Ashtavakra comes to Janaka's sacrifice with the object of proving the unity of the Supreme Being. Vandin avails himself of various system of Philosophy to combat his opponent. He begins with the Buddhistic system. The form of the dialogue is unique in literature being that of enigmas and the latent meaning is in a queer way hid under the appearance of puerile and heterogeneous combinations of things. Vandin opens the controversy by saying that as the number of each of these is one, so one only intellect is the lord, leader and guide of the senses. [27] There is a Vedic revelation that two birds live together on a tree as friends--one of these eats the fruits and the other looks at the former. From this it is manifest that _two_ are the lords, leaders, and guides of the senses. That there is a second faculty besides the intellect is also proved by the fact that in sleep when the intellect is inactive that faculty continues in action, for if it were not so we could not remember having slept, nor connect the state after awaking with that preceding sleep. Accordingly by citing the number _two_ Ashtavakra asserts that besides intellect there is another faculty--consciousness that these _two_ are jointly the lords, leaders and guides of the senses and that they act together as Indra and Agni, etc. [28] By citing the number _three_ Vandin means to say that as it is Acts that produce the _three_ kinds of born beings, etc., so Acts are supreme and that everything else be it intellect alone, or intellect and consciousness together is subservient to Acts. [29] Ashtavakra here advances the thesis that even if Acts be supreme still when the (_fourth_) or Supreme Being becomes manifest to the soul, it stands in no further needs to Acts. [30] By bringing in the _quinquennial_ series, Vandin wishes to assert that the _five_ senses are competent to cognise there respective objects and that besides these senses and their objects there is neither any other sense to perceive nor any other object of perception. He also cites the authority of the Veda according to which the _Apsaras_ (or consciousness) have _five_ "locks" on their hands--i.e., _five_ objects of perception. [31] Besides the five senses Ashtavakra contends for an additional sense namely the Mind and accordingly cites the number _six_. [32] Vandin admits the existence of the six senses but says that the soul experiences happiness and misery through those as well as through the _intellect_. [33] Ashtavakra advances an eighth element, namely, the _knowledge of the ego_. [34] Each of the three qualities (existence, foulness and ignorance) of _prakriti_ (the passive or material cause of the world) mixing with each of the three corresponding qualities of _pradhana_ (the active or spiritual cause of the world) in various proportions produces the mundane order of things. Thus is proved the eternity of _prakriti_ or nature and is also established the doctrine of duality. [35] Prakriti does not really create. It is the Supreme Being who through the medium of illusion in contract with the _ten_ organs (viz., the five locomotive organs and the five organs of sense) makes manifest the system of things. Prakriti therefore has no real existence--her existence is only apparent in the real existence of the soul. [36] Yupas (stakes) mean here, _feelings_, etc, which keep men bound to the world. _Rudras_ are those who makes others cry. Vandin means to say that the soul is not essentially free from the fetters of happiness and misery arising from the eleven objects of perception. In this world all men are subject to happiness and misery. We also hear that there are Rudras in heaven. [37] The supreme soul unaffected by happiness and misery really exists--but His existence is not susceptible of being proved--nor can the ignorant ever perceive Him. Men attain that condition through these _twelve_, viz., virtue, truth, self-restraint, penances, good-will, modesty, forgiveness, exemption from envy, sacrifice, charity, concentration and control over the senses. [38] According to some, endeavours to attain emancipation can be successful not in this world but in the world of Brahma. Others say that to that end a special _yoga_ is necessary. By bringing forward the objects numbering _thirteen_, Vandin advances the opinion that, virtue, etc., are not sufficient for purposes of emancipation but that suitable time and place are also essential. "Lomasa said, 'Having proceeded thus far, Vandin stopped. Thereupon Ashtavakra supplied the latter half of the _sloka_. Ashtavakra said, "Thirteen sacrifices are presided over by Kesi; and thirteen are devoured by _Atichhandas_, (the longer metres) of the Veda."[39] And seeing Ashtavakra speaking and the Suta's son silent, and pensive, and with head downcast, the assembly broke into a long uproar. And when the tumult thus arose in the splendid sacrifice performed by king Janaka, the Brahmanas well pleased, and with joined hands, approached Ashtavakra, and began to pay him homage. [39] Ashtavakra concludes by citing the same number _thirteen_. The soul which is essentially unaffected, becomes subject to happiness and misery through the _thirteen_, viz., the ten organs of locomotion and sense, and intellect mind and egoism. But Atichhanadas, i.e., those that have surmounted ignorance, namely, the twelve, virtue, etc. destroy those thirteen and that is emancipation. "'Thereupon Ashtavakra said, "Before this, this man, defeating the Brahmanas in controversy, used to cast them into water. Let Vandin today meet with the same fate. Seize him and drown him in water." Vandin said, "O Janaka, I am the son of king Varuna. Simultaneously with thy sacrifice, there also hath commenced a sacrifice extending over twelve years. It is for this that I have despatched the principal Brahmanas thither. They have gone to witness Varuna's sacrifice. Lo! there they are returning. I pay homage to the worshipful Ashtavakra, by whose grace to-day I shall join him who hath begot me." "'Ashtavakra said, "Defeating the Brahmanas either by words or subtlety, Vandin had cast them into the waters of the sea. (That Vedic truth which he had suppressed by false arguments), have I to-day rescued by dint of my intellect. Now let candid men judge. As Agni, who knoweth the character of both the good and the bad, leaveth unscorched by his heat the bodies of those whose designs are honest, and is thus partial to them, so good men judge the assertions of boys, although lacking the power of speech, and are favourably disposed towards them. O Janaka, thou hearest my words as if thou hast been stupefied in consequence of having eaten the fruit of the Sleshmataki tree. Or flattery hath robbed thee of thy sense, and for this it is that although pierced by my words as an elephant (by the hook), thou hearest them not." "'Janaka said, "Listening to thy words, I take them to be excellent and superhuman. Thy form also standeth manifest as superhuman. As thou hast to-day defeated Vandin in discussion, I place even him at thy disposal." Ashtavakra said, "O king, Vandin remaining alive, will not serve any purpose of mine. If his father be really Varuna, let him be drowned in the sea." Vandin said, "I am King Varuna's son. I have no fear (therefore) in being drowned. Even at this moment, Ashtavakra shall see his long-lost sire, Kahoda."' "Lomasa said, 'Then rose before Janaka all the Brahmanas, after having been duly worshipped by the magnanimous Varuna. Kahoda said, "It is for this, O Janaka, that men pray for sons, by performing meritorious acts. That in which I had failed hath been achieved by my son. Weak persons may have sons endued with strength; dunces may have intelligent sons; and the illiterate may have sons possessed of learning." Vandin said, "It is with thy sharpened axe, O monarch, that even Yama severeth the heads of foes. May prosperity attend thee! In this sacrifice of king Janaka, the principal hymns relating to the _Uktha_ rites are being chanted, and the Soma juice also is being adequately quaffed. And the gods themselves, in person, and with cheerful hearts, are accepting their sacred shares."' "Lomasa said, 'When in enhanced splendour, the Brahmanas had risen up, Vandin, taking king Janaka's permission, entered into the waters of the sea. And then Ashtavakra worshipped his father, and he himself also was worshipped by the Brahmanas. And having thus defeated the Suta's son,[40] Ashtavakra returned to his own excellent hermitage, in company with his uncle. Then in the presence of his mother, his father addressed him, saying, "(O son), thou speedily enter into this river, Samanga." And accordingly, he entered (into the water). (And as he plunged beneath the water), all his (crooked) limbs were immediately made straight. And from that day that river came to be called Samanga and she became invested with the virtues of purifying (sins). He that shall bathe in her, will be freed from his sins. Therefore, O Yudhishthira, do thou with thy brothers and wife descend to the river, and perform thy ablutions. O Kunti's son, O scion of the Ajamidha race, living happily and cheerfully at this place together with thy brothers and the Brahmanas, thou wilt perform with me other acts of merit, being intent upon good deeds.'" [40] _Su_ means _excellent_, and _uta_, _sacrifice_. The compound accordingly means,--_performer of excellent sacrifice_. SECTION CXXXV "Lomasa said, 'Here, O king, is visible the river Samanga, whose former name was Madhuvila, and yonder is the spot named Kardamila, the bathing place of Bharata. The lord of Sachi, when fallen into misery in consequence of having slain Vritra, became freed from his sin, by performing his ablutions in this Samanga. Here, O bull among men, is the spot where the Mainaka mountain hath sunk into the interior of the earth; and it is hence called Vinasana. For obtaining sons, here Aditi in days of yore had cooked that celebrated food, (presided over by the Supreme Being). O ye bulls among men, ascend this lofty mountain and put an end to your inglorious misery unworthy to be uttered. Here, O king, before thee is the Kanakhala range, the favourite resort of sages. And yonder is the mighty river Ganga. Here, in ancient times, the holy sage Sanatkumara attained ascetic success. O scion of the Ajamidha race, by performing thy ablutions here in this river, thou wilt be freed from all thy sins. O son of Kunti, do thou together with thy ministers, touch (the waters) of this lake called Punya, and this mountain Bhrigutunga and also (the water of) these two rivers, called Tushniganga. Here, O Kunti's son, appeareth the hermitage of the sage Sthulasiras. Resign here thy anger and sense of self-importance. There, O son of Pandu, is seen the beautiful hermitage of Raivya, where perished Bharadwaja's son, Yavakri, profound in Vedic lore.' "Yudhishthira said, 'How did the mighty sage, Yavakri, son of the ascetic Bharadwaja, acquire profoundity in the Vedas? And how also did he perish? I am anxious to hear all this, just as it happened. I take delight in listening to the narration of the deeds of god-like men.' "Lomasa said, 'Bharadwaja and Raivya were two friends. And they dwelt here, ever taking the greatest pleasure in each other's company. Now, Raivya had two sons, named Arvavasu and Paravasu. And, Bharadwaja, O Bharata's son, had an only son, named Yavakri. Raivya and his two sons were versed in the Vedas, while Bharadwaja practised asceticism. But, O son of Bharata, from their boyhood, the friendship subsisting between those two was unequalled. O sinless one, the highspirited Yavakri finding that his father, who practised asceticism, was slighted by the Brahmanas, while Raivya with his sons was greatly respected by them, was overwhelmed with sorrow, and became sore aggrieved. Thereupon, O son of Pandu, he entered upon severe austerities, for (obtaining) a knowledge of the Vedas. And he exposed his body to a flaming fire. By thus practising the most rigid austerities, he caused anxiety in the mind of Indra. Then Indra, O Yudhishthira, went to him and addressed him saying, "Wherefore, O sage, hast thou become engaged in practising such rigid austerities?" Yavakri said, "O thou adored of celestial hosts, I am practising severe penances, because I wish that such a knowledge of the Vedas as hath never been acquired by any Brahmana whatever, may be manifest unto me. O conqueror of Paka, these endeavours of mine have been for Vedic lore. O Kausika, by the force of my asceticism, I purpose to obtain all sorts of knowledge. O lord, a knowledge of the Vedas as learnt through teachers, is acquired in a long time. Therefore, (with the view of attaining in short time a proficiency in the Vedas), I have put forth these high endeavours." Indra said, "O Brahmana sage, the way that thou hast adopted is not the proper way. What for, O Brahmana, wilt thou destroy thyself? Go and learn from the lips of a preceptor."' "Lomasa said, 'O son of Bharata, having said this, Sakra went away, and Yavakri of immeasurable energy, once more directed his attention to asceticism. O king, we have heard that carrying on severe austerities he again greatly agitated Indra. And the god Indra, slayer of Vala, again came unto that great sage, who was engaged in austere penances; and forbade him, saying, "Thou art striving with the object that Vedic lore may be manifest unto thee as well as unto thy father; but thy exertions can never be successful, nor is this act of thine well-advised." Yavakri said, "O lord of the celestials, if thou wilt not do for me what I want, I shall, observing stricter vows, practise still severer penances. O lord of celestials! know that if thou do not fulfil all my desires, I shall then cut off my limbs and offer them as a sacrifice into a blazing fire."' "Lomasa said, 'Knowing the determination of that high-souled sage, the sagacious Indra reflected and hit upon some expedient to dissuade him. Then Indra assumed the guise of an ascetic Brahmana, hundreds of years old, and infirm, and suffering from consumption. And he fell to throwing up a dam with sands, at that spot of the Bhagirathi to which Yavakri used to descend for performing ablutions. Because Yavakri, chief of the Brahmanas, paid no heed to Indra's words, the latter began to fill the Ganga with sands. And without cessation, he threw handfuls of sand into the Bhagirathi, and began to construct the dam attracting the notice of the sage. And when that bull among the sages, Yavakri, saw Indra thus earnestly engaged in constructing the dam, he broke into laughter, and said the following words, "What art thou engaged in, O Brahmana, and what is thy object? Why dost thou, for nothing, make this mighty endeavour?" Indra said, "I am trying, O my son, to dam the Ganga so that there may be a commodious passage. People experience considerable difficulty in crossing and recrossing (the river) by boat." Yavakri said, "O thou of ascetic wealth, thou canst not dam up this mighty current. O Brahmana, desist from, what is impracticable, and take up something that is practicable." Indra said, "O sage, I have imposed on myself this heavy task, even as, for obtaining a knowledge of the Vedas, thou hast begun these penances, which can never be fruitful." Yavakri said, "If, O chief of the celestials, those efforts of mine be fruitless, even as those of thy own, then, O lord of heavenly hosts, be thou pleased to do for me what is practicable. Vouchsafe unto me boons whereby I may excel other men."' "Lomasa said 'Then Indra granted boons, as was prayed for by the mighty ascetic. Indra said, "As thou desirest, the Vedas will be manifest unto thee, yea--even unto thy father. And all thy other desires will also be fulfilled. Return home, O Yavakri." "'Having thus obtained the object of his desire, Yavakri came unto his father and said, "The Vedas, O father, will be manifest unto thee as well as unto myself and I have obtained boons whereby we shall excel all men." Thereat Bharadwaja said, "O my son, as thou hast obtained the objects of thy desire, thou wilt be proud. And when thou art puffed up with pride and hast also become uncharitable, destruction will soon overtake thee. O my son, there is a current anecdote narrated by the gods. In ancient times, O son, there lived a sage named Valadhi, possessed of great energy. And in grief for the death of a child, he practised the severest penances to have a child that should be immortal. And he obtained a son even as he desired. But the gods, though very favourably disposed (towards him), did not yet make his son immortal like unto the gods. They said, "On condition can a mortal being be made immortal. Thy son's life, however, shall depend on some instrumental cause." Thereupon, Valadhi said, "O chiefs of the celestials, these mountains have been existing eternally, and indestructible, let them be the instrumental cause of my son's life." Afterwards a son was born to the sage, named Medhavi. And he was of a very irritable temper. And hearing of (the incident of his birth), he grew haughty, and began to insult the sages. And he ranged over the earth, doing mischief to the _munis_. And one day, meeting with the learned sage Dhannushaksha endued with energy, Medhavi maltreated him. Thereupon, the former cursed him, saying, "Be thou reduced to ashes." Medhavi, however, was not reduced to ashes. Then Dhannushaksha caused the mountain which was the instrumental cause of Medhavi's life, to be shattered by buffaloes. And the boy perished, with the destruction of the instrumental cause of his life. And embracing his dead son, Medhavi's father began to bewail his fate. Now hear from me, O my son, what was chanted by the sages conversant with the Vedas, when they found the sage mourning. _A mortal on no condition whatever can overcome what hath been ordained by Fate. Lo! Dhannushaksha succeeded in shattering even the mountain by buffaloes._ Thus young ascetics, puffed up with pride for having obtained boons, perish in a short time. Be thou not one of them. This Raivya, O my son, is possessed of great energy, and his two sons are like him. Therefore, be thou vigilant--so as never to approach him. O my son, Raivya is a great ascetic of an irritable temper. When angry, he can do thee harm." Yavakri said, "I shall do as thou biddest me. Oh father, do thou not by any means entertain anxiety for that. Raivya deserveth my regard even as thou, my father." Having replied unto his father in these sweet words, Yavakri, fearing nothing and nobody, began to delight in wantonly offending other _munis_.'" SECTION CXXXVI "Lomasa said, 'One day in the month of Chaitra, while fearlessly wandering at large, Yavakri approached the hermitage of Raivya. And O son of Bharata, in that beautiful hermitage, adorned with trees bearing blossoms, he happened to behold the daughter-in-law of Raivya, sauntering about like a Kinnara woman. And having lost his senses through passion, Yavakri shamelessly spake unto the bashful maiden, saying, "Be thou attached unto me." Thereupon, knowing his nature, and afraid of a curse, as well as thinking of Raivya's power, she went unto him saying, "I agree." Then, O son of Bharata, taking him in private, she kept him chained. O conqueror of foes, returning to his hermitage, Raivya found his daughter-in-law, Paravasu's wife, in tears. O Yudhishthira, thereat consoling her with soft words, he enquired of her as to the cause of her grief. Thereupon, the beautiful damsel told him all that Yavakri had said unto her, and what she also had cleverly said unto him. Hearing of this gross misbehaviour of Yavakri, the mind of the sage flamed up, and he waxed exceedingly wroth. And being thus seized with passion, the great sage of a highly irascible temper, tore off a matted lock of his hair, and with holy _mantras_, offered it as a sacrifice on the sacred fire. At this, there sprang out of it a female exactly resembling his daughter-in-law. And then he plucked another matted lock of his hair, and again offered it as a sacrifice into the fire. Thereupon sprang out of it a demon, terrible to behold, and having fierce eyes. Then those two spake unto Raivya, saying, "What shall we do?" Thereat, the angry sage said unto them, "Go and kill Yavakri." Then saying, "We shall do (as thou biddest)"--they two went away with the intention of slaying Yavakri. And with her charms, the female whom the large-hearted sage had created, robbed Yavakri of his sacred water-pot. Then with his uplifted spear the demon flew at Yavakri, when he had been deprived of his water-pot and rendered unclean. And seeing the demon approach with uplifted spear for the purpose of slaying him, Yavakri rose up all on a sudden and fled towards a tank. But finding it devoid of water, he hurried towards all the rivers. But they too were all dried up. And being obstructed again and again by the fierce demon, holding the spear, Yavakri in fright attempted to enter into the _Agnihotra_ room of his father. But there, O king, he was repulsed by a blind Sudra warder, and he remained at the door, grasped by the man. And, finding Yavakri thus grasped by the Sudra, the demon hurled his spear at him, and thereupon he fell down dead, pierced in the heart. After slaying Yavakri, the demon went back to Raivya, and with the permission of that sage, began to live with the female.'" SECTION CXXXVII "Lomasa said, 'O son of Kunti, Bharadwaja returned to his hermitage after performing the ritual duties of the day, and having collected the sacrificial fuel. And because his son had been slain, the sacrificial fires which used to welcome him everyday, did not on that day come forward to welcome him. And marking this change in the Agnihotra, the great sage asked the blind Sudra warder seated there, saying, "Why is it, O Sudra, that the fires rejoice not at sight of me? Thou too dost not rejoice as is thy wont. Is it all well with my hermitage? I hope that my son of little sense had not gone to the sage Raivya. Answer speedily, O Sudra, all these questions of mine. My mind misgiveth me." The Sudra said, "Thy son of little sense had gone to the sage Raivya, and therefore it is that he lieth prostrate (on the ground), having been slain by a powerful demon. Being attacked by the Rakshasa, holding a spear, he attempted to force his way into this room, and I therefore barred his way with my arms. Then desirous of having water in an unclean state, as he stood hopeless, he was slain by the vehement Rakshasa, carrying a spear in his hand." On hearing from the Sudra of this great calamity, Bharadwaja, sorely afflicted with grief, began to lament, embracing his dead son. And he said, "O my son, it is for the good of the Brahmanas that thou didst practise penances, with the intention that the Vedas unstudied by any Brahmana whatever might be manifest unto thee. Thy behaviour towards the Brahmanas had always been for their good, and thou hadst also been innocent in regard to all creatures. But, alas! (at last) thou didst lapse into rudeness. I had prohibited thee, O my son, from visiting the residence of Raivya; but alas! to that very hermitage, (destructive to thee) as the god of death himself, Yama, didst thou repair. Evil-minded is that man, who, (knowing that) I am an old man, and also that (Yavakri) was my only son, had given way to wrath. It is through the agency of Raivya that I have sustained the loss of my child. Without thee, O my son, I shall give up my life, the most precious thing in the world. In grief for the death of my son, I renounce my life; but this I say that Raivya's eldest son shall in a short time kill him although he be innocent. Blessed are those to whom children have never been born, for they lead a happy life, without having to experience the grief (incident to the death of a child). Who in this world can be more wicked than those who from affliction, and deprived of their sense by sorrow consequent upon the death of a child, curse even their dearest friend! I found my son dead, and, therefore, have cursed my dearest friend. Ah! what second man can there be in this world, destined to suffer so grievous a misfortune!" Having lamented long Bharadwaja cremated his son and then himself entered into a full-blazing fire.'" SECTION CXXXVIII "Lomasa said, 'At that very time, the mighty king, Vrihadyumna, of high fortune, who was the _Yajamana_ of Raivya, commenced a sacrifice. And the two sons of Raivya, Arvavasu and Paravasu, were engaged by that intelligent monarch, to assist him in the performance of the ceremony. And, O son of Kunti, taking the permission of their father, they two went to the sacrifice, while Raivya with Paravasu's wife remained in the hermitage. And it came to pass that one day, desirous of seeing his wife, Paravasu returned home alone. And he met his father in the wood, wrapped in the skin of a black antelope. And the night was far advanced and dark; and Paravasu, blinded by drowsiness in that deep wood, mistook his father for a straggling deer. And mistaking him for a deer, Paravasu, for the sake of personal safety, unintentionally killed his father. Then, O son of Bharata, after performing the funeral rites (of his father), he returned to the sacrifice and there addressed his brother saying, "Thou wilt never be able to perform this task unassisted. I again, have killed our father, mistaking him for a deer. O brother, for me do thou observe a vow, prescribed in the case of killing a Brahmana. O Muni, I shall be able to perform this work (sacrifice), without any assistant." Arvavasu said, "Do thou then thyself officiate at this sacrifice of the gifted Vrihadyumna; and for thee will I, bringing my senses under perfect control, observe the vow prescribed in the case of slaying a Brahmana."' "Lomasa said, 'Having observed the vow relative to the killing of a Brahmana, the sage Arvavasu came back to the sacrifice. Seeing his brother arrive, Paravasa, in accents choked with malice, addressed Vrihadyumna, saying, "O king, see that this slayer of a Brahmana enter not into thy sacrifice, nor look at it. Even by a glance, the killer of a Brahmana can, without doubt, do thee harm." O lord of men, immediately on hearing this, the king ordered his attendants (to turn out Arvavasu). O king, on being driven out by the king's attendants, and repeatedly addressed by them--"_O slayer of a Brahmana_"--Arvavasu more than once cried, "It is not I that have killed a Brahmana." Nor did he own that he had observed the vow for his own sake. He said that his brother had committed the sin, and that he had freed him therefrom. Having said this in anger, and being reprimanded by the attendants, the Brahmana sage of austere penances, retired in silence into the woods. There betaking himself to the severest penances, the great Brahmana sought the protection of the Sun. Thereupon, the revelation teaching the _mantra_ relative to the worship of the Sun, became manifest unto him and that eternal deity who obtaineth his share (of the sacrificial butter) first, appeared before him in an embodied form.' "Lomasa said, 'The celestials, O king, were well pleased with Arvavasu for his acts. And they made him engaged as the chief priest in the sacrifice (of Vrihadyumna), and Paravasu to be dismissed from it. Then Agni and the other celestials (of their own accord) bestowed boons on Arvavasu. And they also prayed that his father might be restored to life. He further prayed that his brother might be absolved from his sin; that his father might have no recollection of his having been slain; that Bharadwaja and Yavakri might both be restored to life; and that the solar revelation might attain celebrity (on earth). Then the god said, "So be it," and conferred on him other boons also. Thereat, O Yudhishthira, all of these persons regained their life. Yavakri now addressed Agni and the other deities, saying, "I had obtained a knowledge of all the Vedas, and also practised penances. How came it then, O chiefs of the immortals, that Raivya succeeded in killing me in that way?" Thereupon the gods said, "O Yavakri, never act again as those have done. What thou askest about is quite possible, for thou hast learnt the Vedas without exertion, and without the help of a preceptor. But this man (Raivya) bearing various troubles, had satisfied his preceptor by his conduct, and obtained (from the latter) the excellent Vedas through great exertions and in a long time."' "Lomasa said, 'Having said this to Yavakri, and restored all those to life, the celestials with Indra at their head, ascended to heaven. Here, O Yudhishthira, is the sacred hermitage of that sage embellished with trees bearing blossoms and fruits at all seasons. O tiger among kings, dwelling at this spot, thou wilt be delivered from all thy sins.'" SECTION CXXXIX "Lomasa said, 'O descendant of Bharata, O king, now hast thou left behind the mountains Usiravija, Mainaka and Sweta, as well as the Kala hills. O son of Kunti, O bull among the descendants of Bharata, here flow before thee the seven Gangas. This spot is pure and holy. Here Agni blazeth forth without intermission. No son of Manu is able to obtain a sight of this wonder. Therefore, O son of Pandu, concentrate your mind in order that he may intently behold these _tirthas_. Now wilt thou see the play-ground of the gods, marked with their footprints, as we have passed the mountain Kala. We shall now ascend that white rock--the mountain Mandara, inhabited by the Yakshas, Manibhadra and Kuvera, king of the Yakshas. O king, at this place eighty thousand fleet Gandharvas, and four times as many Kimpurushas and Yakshas of various shapes and forms, holding various weapons, attend upon Manibhadra, king of the Yakshas. In these regions their power is very great. And in speed they are even as the wind. They can, without doubt, displace even the lord of the celestials from his seat. Protected by them, and also watched over by the Rakshasas, these mountains have been rendered inaccessible. Therefore, O son of Pritha, do thou concentrate thy thoughts. Besides these, O son of Kunti, here are fierce ministers of Kuvera and his Rakshasa kindred. We shall have to meet them, and, therefore, O Kunti's son, gather up thy energies. O king the mountain Kailasa is six _yojanas_ in height. It contains a gigantic jujube tree. And, O son of Kunti, numberless gods and Yakshas and Rakshasas and Kinnaras and Nagas and Suparnas and Gandharvas pass this way, in going towards Kuvera's palace. O king, protected by me, as well as by the might of Bhimasena, and also in virtue of thy own asceticism and self-command, do thou to-day mix with them. May king Varuna and Yama, conqueror of battles, and Ganga, and Yamuna, and this mountain, and the Maruts and the twin Aswins, and all rivers and lakes, vouchsafe thy safety. And, O effulgent one, mayst thou have safety from all the celestials and the Asuras, and the Vasus. O Goddess Ganga, I hear thy roar from this golden mountain, sacred to Indra. O Goddess of high fortune, in these mountainous regions, protect the king, worshipped by all of the Ajamidha race. O daughter of the mountain (Himalaya), this king is about to enter into these mountainous regions. Do thou, therefore, confer protection upon him.' "Having thus addressed the river, Lomasa bade Yudhishthira, saying, 'Be thou careful.' "Yudhishthira said, 'This confusion of Lomasa is unprecedented. Therefore, protect ye Krishna, and be not careless. Lomasa knows this place to be certainly difficult of access. Therefore, do ye practise here the utmost cleanliness.'" Vaisampayana said, "He next addressed his brother Bhima of vast prowess, saying, 'O Bhimasena, do thou protect Krishna carefully. Whether Arjuna be near or away, Krishna in times of danger ever seeketh protection from thee alone.' "Then the high-souled monarch approached the twins, Nakula and Sahadeva, and after smelling their heads, and rubbing their persons, with tears said unto them, 'Do not fear. Proceed, however, with caution.'" SECTION CXL "Yudhishthira said, 'O Vrikodara, there are mighty and powerful invisible spirits at this place. We shall, however, pass it, through the merit of our asceticism and _Agnihotra_ sacrifices. O son of Kunti, do thou therefore, restrain thy hunger and thirst by collecting thy energies, and also, O Vrikodara have recourse to thy strength and cleverness. O Kunti's son, thou hast heard what the sage (Lomasa) had said regarding mount Kailasa. Ascertain, therefore, after deliberation, how Krishna will pass the spot. Or, O mighty Bhima of large eyes, do return from hence, taking with thee Sahadeva, and all our charioteers, cooks, servants, cars, horses, and Brahmanas worn out with travel, while I together with Nakula and the sage Lomasa of severe austerities proceed, subsisting on the lightest fare and observing vows. Do thou in expectation of my return, cautiously wait at the source of the Ganga, protecting Draupadi till I come back.' "Bhima replied, 'O descendant of Bharata, although this blessed princess hath been sore afflicted by toil and distress, yet she easily proceedeth, in the hope of beholding him of the white steeds (Arjuna). Thy dejection also is already very great at not seeing the high-souled Arjuna, who never retreateth from fight. O Bharata, it is superfluous then to say that if thou seest neither myself nor Sahadeva nor Krishna, thy dejection will certainly increase. The Brahmanas had better return with our servants, charioteers, cooks and whomsoever else thou mayst command. I never shall leave thee in these rugged and inaccessible mountainous regions, infested by Rakshasas. And, O tiger among men, also this princess of high fortune, ever devoted to her lords, desireth not to return without thee. Sahadeva is always devoted to thee; he too will never retrace his steps. His disposition is known to me. O king, O mighty monarch, we are all eager to behold Savyasachin, and therefore, will we all go together. If we are unable to go over this mountain in our cars, abounding as it doth in defiles, well, we would go on foot. Trouble thyself not, O king, I shall carry Panchala's daughter wherever she will be incapable of walking. O king, I have decided upon this. Therefore let not thy mind be distracted. I shall also carry over inaccessible tracts those tender-bodied heroes, the twins, the delight of their mother, wherever they will be incapable of proceeding.' "Yudhishthira said, 'May thy strength increase, O Bhima, as thou speakest thus, and as thou boldly undertakest to carry the illustrious Panchali and these twins. Blessed be thou! Such courage dwelleth not in any other individual. May thy strength, fame, merit, and reputation increase! O long-armed one, as thou offerest to carry Krishna and our brothers the twins, exhaustion and defeat never be thine!'" Vaisampayana said, "Then the charming Krishna said with a smile, 'O descendant of Bharata, I shall be able to go, and, therefore, be thou not anxious on my account.' "Lomasa said, 'Access to the mountain, Gandhamadana, is only to be obtained by dint of asceticism. Therefore, O son of Kunti, shall we all practise austerities, O king, Nakula, Sahadeva, Bhimasena, thou and myself shall then see him of the white steeds, O Kunti's son.'" Vaisampayana said, "O king, thus conversing together, they saw with delight the extensive domains of Suvahu, situated on the Himalayas abounding in horses and elephants, densely inhabited by the Kiratas and the Tanganas, crowded by hundreds of Pulindas, frequented by the celestials, and rife with wonders. King Suvahu, the lord of the Pulindas, cheerfully received them at the frontiers of his dominions, paying them proper respect. Having been thus received with honour, and having dwelt comfortably at this place, they started for the mountain Himalaya, when the sun shone brightly in the firmament. And, O king, having entrusted to the care of the lord of the Pulindas, all their servants--Indrasena and the others,--and the cooks and the stewards, and Draupadi's accoutrements, and every thing else, those mighty charioteers, the son of the Kurus, endued with great prowess, set out from that country, and began to proceed cautiously with Krishna,--all of them cheerful in the expectation of beholding Arjuna. "Yudhishthira said, 'O Bhimasena, O Panchali, and ye twins, hearken unto my words. The acts done (by a person) in a former birth do not perish, (without producing their effects). Behold! Even we have become rangers of the wilderness. Even to see Dhananjaya, exhausted and distressed as we are, we have to bear each other, and pass through impassable places. This burneth me even as fire doth a heap of cotton. O hero, I do not see Dhananjaya at my side. I reside in the wood with my younger brothers, anxious for beholding him. This thought, as also the memory of that grave insult offered to Yajanaseni, consumes me. O Vrikodara, I do not see the invincible Partha of strong bow and incomparable energy, and who is the immediate elder to Nakula. For this, O Vrikodara, I am miserable. In order to see that hero, Dhananjaya, firm in promise, for these five years have I been wandering in various _tirthas_, and beautiful forests and lakes and yet I do not meet with him. For this, O Vrikodara, I am miserable. I do not see the long-armed Gudakesa, of dark blue hue, and leonine gait. For this, O Vrikodara, I am miserable. I do not see that foremost of Kurus, accomplished in arms, skilful in fight, and matchless among bowmen. For this, O Vrikodara, I am miserable. Distressed for I am I do not see that son of Pritha, Dhananjaya, born under the influence of the star Phalguni; ranging amidst foes even like Yama at the time of the universal dissolution; possessed of the prowess of an elephant with the temporal juice trickling down; endued with leonine shoulders; not inferior to Sakra himself in prowess and energy; elder in years to the twins; of white steeds; unrivalled in heroism; invincible; and wielding a strong bow. For this, O Vrikodara, I am miserable. And he is always of a forgiving temper,--even when insulted by the meanest individual. And he conferreth benefit and protection to the righteous; but to that tortuous person who by craft attempts to do him mischief, Dhananjaya is like unto virulent poison, albeit that one were Sakra himself. And the mighty Vibhatsu of immeasurable soul and possessing great strength, showeth mercy and extendeth protection even to a foe when fallen. And he is the refuge of us all and he crusheth his foes in fight. And he hath the power to collect any treasure whatever, and he ministereth unto our happiness. It was through his prowess that I had owned formerly measureless precious jewels of various kinds which at present Suyodhana hath usurped. It was by his might, O hero, that I had possessed before that palatial amphitheatre embellished with all manner of jewels, and celebrated throughout the three worlds. O Pandu's son, in prowess, Phalguni is like unto Vasudeva, and in fight he is invincible and unrivalled, even like unto Kartavirya. Alas! I see him not, O Bhima. In might, that conqueror of foes goeth in the wake of the invincible and most powerful Sankarshana (Valarama) and Vasudeva. In strength of arms, and spirit, he is like unto Purandara himself. And in swiftness, he is even as the wind, and in grace, as the moon, and in ire, he is the eternal Death himself. O mighty-armed one, with the object of beholding that war-like tiger among men, shall we repair to the Gandhamadana mountain, where lies the hermitage of Nara and Narayana at the site of the celebrated jujube tree, and which is inhabited by the Yakshas. We shall see that best of mountains. And, practising severe austerities only on foot we shall go to Kuvera's beautiful lake guarded by Rakshasas. That place cannot be reached by vehicles, O Vrikodara. Neither can cruel or avaricious, or irascible people attain to that spot, O Bharata's son. O Bhima, in order to see Arjuna, thither shall we repair, in company, with Brahmanas of strict vows, girding on our swords, and wielding our bows. Those only that are impure, meet with flies, gad-flies, mosquitoes, tigers, lions, and reptiles, but the pure never come across them. Therefore, regulating our fare, and restraining our senses, we shall go to the Gandhamadana, desirous of seeing Dhananjaya.'" SECTION CXLI "Lomasa said, 'O sons of Pandu, ye have seen many a mountain, and river and town and forest and beautiful _tirtha_; and have touched with your hands the sacred waters. Now this way leads to the celestial mountain Mandara; therefore be ye attentive and composed. Ye will now repair to the residence of the celestials and the divine sages of meritorious deeds. Here, O king, flows the mighty and beautiful river (Alakananda) of holy water adored by hosts of celestials and sages, and tracing its source to (the site of) the jujube tree. It is frequented and worshipped by high-souled Vaihayasas, Valakhilyas and Gandharvas of mighty souls. Accustomed to sing the Sama hymns, the sages, Marichi, Pulaha, Bhrigu and Angiras, chanted them at this spot. Here the lord of celestials performeth with the Marats his daily prayers. And the Sadhyas and the Aswins attend on him. The sun, the moon and all the luminaries with the planets resort to this river, alternately by day and by night. O highly fortunate monarch, that protector of the world, Mahadeva, having a bull for his mark, received on his head the fall of the waters of this river, at the source of the Ganga. O children, approach this goddess of the six attributes and bow down before her with concentrated minds.' "Hearing the words of the high-souled Lomasa, the son of Pandu reverentially worshipped the river (Ganga), flowing through the firmament. And after having adored her the pious sons of Pandu resumed their journey accompanied by the sages. And it came to pass that those best of men beheld at a distance some white object of vast proportions, even like Meru and stretching on all sides. And knowing that Pandu's sons were intent upon asking (him), Lomasa versed in speech said, 'Hear, O sons of Pandu! O best of men, what ye see before you, of vast proportions like unto a mountain and beautiful as the Kailasa cliff, is a collection of the bones of the mighty Daitya Naraka. Being placed on a mountain, it looketh like one. The Daitya was slain by that Supreme Soul, the eternal God Vishnu, for the good of the lord of celestials. Aiming at the possession of Indra's place, by the force of austere and Vedic lore, that mighty-minded (demon) had practised austere penances for ten thousand years. And on account of his asceticism, as also of the force and might of his arms he had grown invincible and always harassed (Indra). And O sinless one, knowing his strength and austerities and observance of religious vows, Indra became agitated and was overwhelmed with fear. And mentally he thought of the eternal deity, Vishnu. And thereat the graceful lord of the universe, who is present everywhere, appeared and stood before him manifest. And the sages and celestials began to propitiate Vishnu with prayers. And in his presence even Agni of the six attributes and of blazing beauty being overpowered by his effulgence, became shorn of radiance and seeing before him the God Vishnu, the chief of the celestials who wields the thunder-bolt, bowing with head down readily apprised Vishnu of the source of his fear. Thereupon Vishnu said, "I know, O Sakra, that thy fear proceedeth from Naraka, that lord of the Daityas. By the merit of his successful ascetic acts he aimeth at Indra's position. Therefore, for pleasing thee, I shall certainly sever his soul from his body, although he hath achieved success in asceticism. Do thou, lord of celestials, wait for a moment." Then the exceedingly powerful Vishnu deprived (Naraka) of his senses (by striking him) with his hand. And he fell down on the earth even like the monarch of mountains struck by (thunder). He was thus slain by a miracle and his bones lie gathered at this spot. Here also is manifest another deed of Vishnu's. Once the whole earth having been lost and sunk into the nether regions she was lifted up by him in the shape of a boar having a single tusk.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O worshipful one, relate in particular how Vishnu, the lord of the celestials, raised up the earth sunk a hundred _yojanas_? In what manner also was that support of all created things--the goddess Earth of high fortune-who dispenseth blessings and bringeth forth all sorts of corn rendered stable? Through whose power had she sunk an hundred _yojanas_ below, and under what circumstances was exhibited this greatest exploit of the Supreme Being? O chief of the twice-born race, I wish to hear all about it in detail as it happened. Certainly, it is known to thee.' "Lomasa said, 'O Yudhishthira, listen to all at length as I relate the story, which thou hast asked me (to narrate). O child, in days of yore, there was (once) a terrible time in the Krita Yuga when the eternal and primeval Diety assumed the duties of Yama. And, O thou that never fallest off, when the God of gods began to perform the functions of Yama, there died not a creature while the births were as usual. Then there began to multiply birds and beasts and kine, and sheep, and deer and all kinds of carnivorous animals. O tiger among men and vanquisher of foes, then the human race also increased by thousands even like unto a current of water. And, O my son, when the increase of population had been so frightful, the Earth oppressed with the excessive burden, sank down for a hundred _yojanas_. And suffering pain in all her limbs, and being deprived of her senses by excessive pressure, the earth in distress sought the protection of Narayana, the foremost of the gods. The earth spake saying, "It is by thy favour, O possessor of the six attributes, that I had been able to remain so long in my position. But I have been overcome with burden and now I cannot hold myself any longer. It behoveth thee, O adorable one, to relieve this load of mine. I have sought thy protection, O lord; and do thou, therefore, extend unto me thy favour." Hearing these words of hers, the eternal lord, possessor of the six attributes, complaisantly said, in words uttered in distinct letters, Vishnu said, "Thou need not fear, O afflicted Earth, the bearer of all treasures. I shall act so that thou mayst be made light."' "Lomasa said, 'Having thus dismissed the Earth, who hath the mountains for her ear-rings, he suddenly became turned into a boar with one tusk, and of exceeding effulgence. Causing terror with his glowing red eyes and emitting fumes from his blazing lustre, he began to swell in magnitude in that region. O hero, then holding the earth with his single radiant tusk that being who pervadeth the Vedas, raised her up a hundred _yojanas_. And while she was being thus raised, there ensued a mighty agitation and all the celestials, together with the sages of ascetic wealth became agitated. And heaven, and the firmament, and also the Earth were filled with exclamations of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ and neither the celestials nor men could rest in peace. Then countless celestials together with the sages went to Brahma, who was seated burning as it were in his (own) lustre. Then approaching Brahma, the lord of celestials, and the witness of the acts of all beings, they with folded hands spake the following words, "O lord of the celestials, all created beings have become agitated and the mobile and immobile creatures are restless. O lord of the celestials, even the oceans are found to be agitated and this whole earth hath gone down a hundred _yojanas_. What is the matter? And by whose influence is it that the whole universe is in ferment? May it please thee to explain it unto us without delay, for we are all bewildered." Thereupon Brahma replied, "Ye immortals! do ye not entertain fear for the Asuras, in any matter or place. Hearken, ye celestials, to the reason to which all this commotion is owing! This agitation in the heavens hath been produced by the influence of the illustrious Being who is omnipresent, eternal and the never-perishing Soul. That Supreme soul, Vishnu hath lifted up the Earth, who had entirely sunk down hundred _yojanas_. This commotion hath taken place in consequence of the earth being raised up. Know ye this and dispel your doubts." The celestials said, "Where is that Being who with pleasure raiseth up the Earth? O possessor of the six attributes, mention unto us the place. Thither shall we repair." Brahma said "Go ye. May good happen to you! Ye will find him resting in the Nandana (gardens). Yonder is visible the glorious worshipful Suparna (Garuda). After having raised the Earth, the Supreme Being from whom the world become manifest, flameth even in the shape of a boar, like unto the all-consuming fire at the universal dissolution. And on his beast is really to be seen the gem Srivatsa. (Go) and behold that Being knowing no deterioration."' "Lomasa said, 'Then the celestials, placing the grandsire at their head, came to that infinite Soul, and having listened to his praise, bade him adieu and went back to whence they had come.'" Vaisampayana said, "O Janamejaya, having heard this story, all the Pandavas without delay and with alacrity, began to proceed by the way pointed out by Lomasa." SECTION CXLII Vaisampayana said, "O king, then those foremost of bowmen, of immeasurable prowess, holding bows stringed at full stretch and equipped with quivers and arrows and wearing finger-caps made of the guana-skin, and with their swords on, proceeded with Panchali towards the Gandhamadana, taking with them the best of Brahmanas. And on their way they saw various lakes, and rivers and mountains and forests, and trees of wide-spreading shade on mountain summits and places abounding in trees bearing flowers and fruit in all seasons and frequented by celestials and sages. And restraining their senses within their inner self and subsisting on fruits and roots, the heroes passed through rugged regions, craggy and difficult of passage, beholding many and various kinds of beasts. Thus those high-souled ones entered the mountain inhabited by the sages, the Siddhas and the celestials, and frequented by the Kinnaras and the Apsaras. And, O lord of men, as those mighty heroes were entering the mountain Gandhamandana, there arose a violent wind, attended with a heavy shower. And owing to this, mighty clouds of dust bearing lots of dry leaves, rose, and all on a sudden covered earth, air and firmament. And when the heavens had been covered with dust nothing could be perceived, neither could they (the Pandavas) speak to one another. And with eyes enveloped with darkness and pushed by the wind carrying particles of rocks they could not see one another. And there began to arrive mighty sounds proceeding from the tree, and also from those breaking down incessantly under the force of the wind, and falling to the ground. And distracted by gusts of the wind, they thought, 'Are the heavens falling down; or the earth and the mountains being rent?' And afraid of the wind, they felt about with their hands and took shelter under the way-side tree and ant-hills and in caverns. Then holding his bow and supporting Krishna the mighty Bhimasena stood under a tree. And Yudhishthira the just with Dhaumya crept into the deep wood. And Sahadeva carrying the sacred fire with him took shelter in a rock. And Nakula together with Lomasa and other Brahmanas of great asceticism stood in fright, each under a tree. Then when the wind had abated and the dust subsided, there came down a shower in torrents. There also arose a loud rattling noise, like unto the thunder hurled; and quick-flashing lightning began to play gracefully upon the clouds. And being helped on by the swift wind, showers of rain poured down without intermissions, filling all sides round. And, O lord of men, all around there began to flow many rivers covered with foam and turbid with mud; and these bearing volumes of water spread over the frothy rafts rushed down with tremendous roar uprooting trees. And afterwards when that sound had ceased and the air had arisen they (each of them) cautiously came out of their coverts and met together, O descendant of Bharata. And then the heroes started for the mountain Gandhamadana." SECTION CXLIII Vaisampayana said, "When the high-souled sons of Pandu had proceeded only two miles, Draupadi unaccustomed to travel on foot, sank down. Weary and afflicted as she was, the poor daughter of Panchala became faint, on account of the hailstorm and also of her extreme delicacy. And trembling with faintness, the black-eyed one supported herself on her thighs with her plump arms, becoming (her graceful form). And thus resting for support on her thighs resembling the trunk of an elephant, and which were in contact with each other, she suddenly dropped upon the ground, trembling like a plantain tree. And finding that the beautiful one was falling down like a twisted creeper, Nakula ran forward and supported her. And he said, 'O king, this black-eyed daughter of Panchala, being weary, hath fallen down upon the ground. Do thou, therefore, tend her, O son of Bharata. Undeserving as she is of misery, this lady of slow pace hath been subject to great hardships, and she is also worn out with the fatigues of the journey. O mighty king, do thou therefore, comfort her.'" Vaisampayana said, "Having heard these words of Nakula, the king as also Bhima and Sahadeva, became sorely afflicted, and hastily ran towards her. And finding her weak, and her countenance pale, the pious son of Kunti began to lament in grief, taking her on his lap. Yudhishthira said, 'Accustomed to ease, and deserving to sleep in well protected rooms, on beds spread over with fine sheets, how doth this beautiful one sleep prostrate on the ground! Alas! On my account (alone), the delicate feet and the lotus-like face of this one deserving of all excellent things, have contracted a dark-blue hue. O what have I done! Fool that I am, having been addicted to dice, I have been wandering in the forest full of wild beasts, taking Krishna in my company. This large-eyed one had been bestowed by her father, the king of the Drupadas, in the hope that the blessed girl would be happy, by obtaining the sons of Pandu for her lords. It is on account of my wretched self, that without obtaining anything hoped for, she sleepeth prostrate on the ground, tired with hardships, sorrow and travel!'" Vaisampayana said, "While king Yudhishthira the just was lamenting thus, Dhaumya with all the other principal Brahmanas came to the spot. And they began to console him and to honour him with blessings. And they recited _mantras_ capable of dispelling Rakshasas and (to that end) also performed rites. And on the _mantras_ being recited by the great ascetics, in order to the restoration of (Panchali's) health, Panchali frequently touched by the Pandavas with their soothing palms and fanned by cool breezes surcharged with particles of water, felt ease, and gradually regained her senses. And finding that exhausted poor lady restored to her senses, the sons of Pritha, placing her on deer-skin, caused her to take rest. And taking her feet of red soles, bearing auspicious marks, the twins began to press them gently with their hands, scarred by the bow-string. And Yudhishthira the just, the foremost of the Kurus, also comforted her and addressed Bhima in the following words: 'O Bhima, there yet remain many mountains (before us), rugged, and inaccessible because of snow. How, long-armed one, will Krishna pass over them?' Thereupon Bhima said, 'O king, I myself shall carry thee, together with this princess and these bulls among men, the twins; therefore, O king of kings, resign not thy mind unto despair. Or, at thy bidding, O sinless one, Hidimva's son, the mighty Ghatotkacha, who is capable of ranging the skies and who is like unto me in strength, will carry us all.'" Vaisampayana said, "Then with Yudhishthira's permission, Bhima thought of his Rakshasa son. And no sooner was he thought of by his father, than the pious Ghatotkacha made his appearance and, saluting the Pandavas and the Brahmanas, stood with joined hands. And they also caressed him of mighty arms. He then addressed his father, Bhimasena of dreadful prowess, saying, 'Having been thought of by thee I have come here with speed, in order to serve thee. Do thou, O longarmed one, command me. I shall certainly be able to perform whatever thou bidst.' Hearing this, Bhimasena hugged the Rakshasa to his breast." SECTION CXLIV "Yudhishthira said, 'O Bhima, let this mighty and heroic Rakshasa chief, thy legitimate son, devoted to us, and truthful, and conversant with virtue carry (his) mother (Draupadi) without delay. And, O possessor of dreadful prowess, depending on the strength of thy arms, I shall reach the Gandhamadana, unhurt, together with Panchala's daughter.'" Vaisampayana said, "Hearing the words of his brother, that tiger among men, Bhimasena, commanded his son, Ghatotkacha, represser of foes, saying, 'O invincible son of Hidimva, this thy mother hath been sorely tired. Thou art, again, strong and capable of going wherever thou likest. Do thou therefore, O ranger of the skies, carry her. May prosperity attend thee! Taking her on thy shoulders, thou shalt go in our company, adopting a course not far overhead,--so that thou mayst not render her uneasy.' Thereat, Ghatotkacha said, 'Even single-handed, I am able to carry Yudhishthira the just, and Dhaumya, and Krishna, and the twins--and what wonder then that I shall to-day carry them, when I have others to assist me? And, O sinless one, hundreds of other heroic (Rakshasas), capable of moving through the sky, and of assuming any shape at will, will together carry you all with the Brahmanas.'" Vaisampayana said, "Saying this, Ghatotkacha carried Krishna in the midst of the Pandavas, and the other (Rakshasas) also began to carry the Pandavas. And by virtue of his native energy, Lomasa of incomparable effulgence moved along the path of the Siddhas, like unto a second sun. And at the command of the lord of the Rakshasas, those Rakshasas of terrific prowess began to proceed, bearing all the other Brahmanas, and beholding many a romantic wood. And they proceeded towards the gigantic jujube tree. And carried by the Rakshasas of great speed, proceeding at a rapid pace, the heroes passed over longextending ways quickly, as if over short ones. And on their way they saw various tracts crowded with _Mlechchha_ people, and containing mines of diverse gems. And they also saw hillocks teeming with various minerals, thronged with Vidyadharas, inhabited on all sides by monkeys and Kinnaras and Kimpurushas, and Gandharvas, and filled with peacocks, and _chamaras_, and apes, and _turus_, and bears, and gavayas, and buffaloes, intersected with a network of rivulets, and inhabited by various birds and beasts, and beautified by elephants, and abounding in trees and enraptured birds. After having thus passed many countries, and also the Uttarakurus, they saw that foremost of mountains, the Kailasa, containing many wonders. And by the side of it, they beheld the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, with celestial trees bearing flowers and fruits in all seasons. And they also beheld that beautiful jujube of round trunk. And it was fresh; and of deep shade; and of excellent beauty; and of thick, soft and sleek foliage; and healthful; and having gigantic boughs; and wide-spreading; and of incomparable lustre; and bearing full-grown, tasteful, and holy fruits dropping honey. And this celestial tree was frequented by hosts of mighty sages, and was always inhabited by various birds maddened with animal spirits. And it grew at a spot devoid of mosquitoes and gad-flies, and abounding in fruits and roots and water, and covered with green grass, and inhabited by the celestials and the Gandharvas, and of smooth surface, and naturally healthful, and beauteous and cool and of delicate feel. Having reached that (tree) together with those bulls among Brahmanas, the high-souled ones gently alighted from the shoulders of the Rakshasas. Then in company with those bulls among the twice-born ones, the Pandavas beheld that romantic asylum presided over by Nara and Narayana; devoid of gloom; and sacred; and untouched by the solar rays; and free from those rubs, viz. hunger, and thirst, heat and cold, and removing (all) sorrow; and crowded with hosts of mighty sages; and adorned with the grace proceeding from the Vedas, Saman, Rich, and Yajus; and, O king, inaccessible to men who have renounced religion; and beautified with offerings, and _homas_; and sacred; and well-swept and daubed; and shining all around with offerings of celestial blossoms; and spread over with altars of sacrificial fire, and sacred ladles and pots; and graced with large water-jars, and baskets and the refuge of all beings; and echoing with the chanting of the Vedas; and heavenly; and worthy of being inhabited; and removing fatigue; and attended with splendour and of incomprehensible merit; and majestic with divine qualities. And the hermitage was inhabited by hosts of great sages, subsisting on fruits and roots; and having their senses under perfect control; and clad in black deer-skins; and effulgent like unto the Sun and Agni; and of souls magnified by asceticism and intent on emancipation; and leading the Vanaprastha mode of life; and of subdued senses; and identified with the Supreme Soul; and of high fortune; and reciting Vedic hymns. Then having purified himself and restrained his senses, that son of Dharma, the intelligent Yudhishthira of exceeding energy, accompanied by his brothers, approached those sages. And all the great sages endued with supernatural knowledge, knowing Yudhishthira arrived, received him joyfully. And those sages engaged in the recitation of the Vedas, and like unto fire itself, after having conferred blessings on Yudhishthira, cheerfully accorded him fitting reception. And they gave him clean water and flowers and roots. And Yudhishthira the just received with regard the things gladly offered for his reception by the great sages. And then, O sinless one, Pandu's son together with Krishna and his brothers, and thousands of Brahmanas versed in the Vedas and the Vendangas, entered into that holy hermitage, like unto the abode of Sukra and pleasing the mind with heavenly odours and resembling heaven itself and attended with beauty. There the pious (Yudhishthira) beheld the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, beautified by the Bhagirathi and worshipped by the gods and the celestial sages. And seeing that hermitage inhabited by the Brahmarshis and containing fruits dropping honey, the Pandavas were filled with delight. And having reached that place, the high-souled ones began to dwell with the Brahmanas. There beholding the holy lake Vinda, and the mountain Mainaka, of golden summits and inhabited by various species of birds, the magnanimous ones lived happily with joy. The son of Pandu together with Krishna took pleasure in ranging excellent and captivating woods, shining with flowers of every season; beauteous on all sides with trees bearing blown blossoms; and bending down with the weight of fruits and attended by the numerous male _kokilas_ and of glossy foliage; and thick and having cool shade and lovely to behold. They took delight in beholding diverse beautiful lakes of limpid water and shining all round with lotuses and lilies. And there, O lord, the balmy breeze bearing pure fragrance, blew gladdening all the Pandavas, together with Krishna. And hard by the gigantic jujube, the mighty son of Kunti saw the Bhagirathi of easy descent and cool and furnished with fresh lotuses and having stairs made of rubies and corals and graced with trees and scattered over with celestial flowers, and gladsome to the mind. And at that spot, frequented by celestials and sages, and extremely inaccessible, they, after having purified themselves offered oblations unto the _pitris_ and the gods and the _rishis_ in the sacred waters of the Bhagirathi. Thus those bulls among men the heroic perpetuators of the Kuru race, began to reside there with the Brahmanas offering oblations and practising meditation. And those tigers among men, the Pandavas of the god-like appearance, felt delight in witnessing the various amusements of Draupadi." SECTION CXLV Vaisampayana said, "There observing cleanliness, those tigers among men dwelt for six nights, in expectation of beholding Dhananjaya. And it came to pass that all of a sudden there blew a wind from the north-east and brought a celestial lotus of a thousand petals and effulgent as the sun. And Panchali saw that pure and charming lotus of unearthly fragrance, brought by the wind and left on the ground. And having obtained that excellent and beautiful lotus, that blessed one became exceedingly delighted, O king, and addressed Bhimasena in the following words, 'Behold, O Bhima, this most beautiful unearthly flower having within it the very source of fragrance. It gladdenth my heart, O represser of foes. This one shall be presented to Yudhishthira the just. Do thou, therefore, procure others for my satisfaction--in order that I may carry them to our hermitage in the Kamyaka. If, O Pritha's son, I have found grace with thee, do thou then procure others of this species in large numbers. I wish to carry them to our hermitage.' Having said this, the blameless lady of beautiful glances approached Yudhishthira the just, taking the flower. And knowing the desire of his beloved queen that bull among men, Bhima of great strength, also set out, in order to gratify her. And intent upon fetching the flowers, he began to proceed at rapid space, facing the wind, in the direction from which the flower had come. And taking the bow inlaid with gold on the back as also arrows like unto venomous snakes, he proceeded as a lion in anger or an elephant in rut. And all beings gazed at him, holding a mighty bow and arrows. And neither exhaustion, nor langour, neither fear nor confusion, ever possessed the son of Pritha and the offspring of Vayu (wind). And desirous of pleasing Draupadi the mighty one, free from fear or confusion, ascended the peak depending on the strength of his arms. And that slayer of foes began to range that beautiful peak covered with trees, creepers and of black rocky base; and frequented by Kinnaras; and variegated with minerals, plants, beasts, and birds of various hues; and appearing like an upraised arm of the Earth adorned with an entire set of ornaments. And that one of matchless prowess proceeded, fixing his look at the slopes of the Gandhamadana,--beautiful with flowers of every season--and revolving various thoughts in his mind and with his ears, eyes and mind rivetted to the spots resounding with the notes of male _kokilas_ and ringing with the hum of black bees. And like an elephant in rut ranging mad in a forest that one of mighty prowess smelt the rare odour proceeding from the flowers of every season. And he was fanned by the fresh breeze of the Gandhamadana bearing the perfumes of various blossoms and cooling like unto a father's touch. On his fatigue being removed the down on his body stood on end. And in this state that represser of foes for the flowers began to survey all the mountain, inhabited by Yakshas and Gandharvas and celestials and Brahmarshis. And brushed by the leaves of _Saptachchada_ tree, besmeared with fresh red, black and white minerals, he looked as if decorated with lines of holy unguents drawn by fingers. And with clouds stretching at its sides, the mountain seemed dancing with outspread wings. And on account of the trickling waters of springs, it appeared to be decked with necklaces of pearls. And it contained romantic caverns and groves and cascades and caves. And there were excellent peacocks dancing to the jingling of the bangles of the Apsaras. And its rocky surface was worn away by the end of tusks of the elephants presiding over the cardinal points. And with the waters of rivers falling down, the mountain looked as if its clothes were getting loosened. And that graceful son of the wind-god playfully and cheerfully went on, pushing away by his force countless intertwisted creepers. And stags in curiosity gazed at him, with grass in their mouths. And not having experienced fear (ever before), they were unalarmed, and did not flee away. And being engaged in fulfilling the desire of his love, the youthful son of Pandu, stalwart and of splendour like unto the hue of gold; and having a body strong as a lion; and treading like a mad elephant; and possessing the force of a mad elephant; and having coppery eyes like unto those of a mad elephant; and capable of checking a mad elephant began to range the romantic sides of the Gandhamadana with his beautiful eyes uplifted; and displaying as it were a novel type of beauty. And the wives of Yakshas and Gandharvas sitting invisible by the side of their husbands, stared at him, turning their faces with various motions. Intent upon gratifying Draupadi exiled unto the woods, as he was ranging the beautiful Gandhamadana, he remembered the many and various woes caused by Duryodhana. And he thought, 'Now that Arjuna sojourn in heaven and that I too have come away to procure the flowers, what will our brother Yudhishthira do at present? Surely, from affection and doubting their prowess, that foremost of men, Yudhishthira, will not let Nakula and Sahadeva come in search of us. How, again, can I obtain the flowers soon?' Thinking thus, that tiger among men proceeded in amain like unto the king of birds, his mind and sight fixed on the delightful side of the mountain. And having for his provisions on the journey the words of Draupadi, the mighty son of Pandu, Vrikodara Bhima, endued with strength and the swiftness of the wind, with his mind and sight fixed on the blooming slopes of the mountain, proceeded speedily, making the earth tremble with his tread, even as doth a hurricane at the equinox; and frightening herds of elephants and grinding lions and tigers and deer and uprooting and smashing large trees and tearing away by force plants and creepers, like unto an elephant ascending higher and higher the summit of a mountain; and roaring fiercely even as a cloud attended with thunder. And awakened by that mighty roaring of Bhima, tigers came out of their dens, while other rangers of the forest hid themselves. And the coursers of the skies sprang up (on their wing) in fright. And herds of deer hurriedly ran away. And birds left the trees (and fled). And lions forsook their dens. And the mighty lions were roused from their slumber. And the buffaloes stared. And the elephants in fright, leaving that wood, ran to more extensive forests company with their mates. And the boars and the deer and the lions and the buffaloes and the tigers and the jackals and the _gavayas_ of the wood began to cry in herds. (Paragraph continued in next e-book.) 
19630	----	Hare of sacred-texts.com. [Frontespiece: The Banishment] MAHA-BHARATA THE EPIC OF ANCIENT INDIA CONDENSED INTO ENGLISH VERSE By Romesh C. Dutt C.I.E. MDCCCXCIX Published by J. M. Dent and Co. Aldine House London W. C. To THE MARQUIS OF RIPON Ever gratefully remembered by my countrymen for his just and benevolent administration and for his generous and helpful measures for the introduction of self-government in India This translation of the ancient epic of my country is respectfully dedicated Contents BOOK PAGE I. Astra Darsana (The Tournament) 1 II. Swayamvara (The Bride's Choice) 14 III. Rajasuya (The Imperial Sacrifice) 28 IV. Dyuta (The Fatal Dice) 42 V. Pativrata-Mahatmya (Woman's Love) 55 VI. Go-Harana (Cattle-Lifting) 73 VII. Udyoga (The Preparation) 86 VIII. Bhishma-Badha (Fall of Bhishma) 100 IX. Drona-Badha (Fall of Drona) 119 X. Karna-Badha (Fall of Karna) 136 XI. Sraddha (Funeral Rites) 151 XII. Aswa-Medha (Sacrifice of the Horse) 161 Conclusion 171 Translator's Epilogue 174 THE EPIC OF ANCIENT INDIA BOOK I ASTRA DARSANA (The Tournament) The scene of the Epic is the ancient kingdom of the Kurus which flourished along the upper course of the Ganges; and the historical fact on which the Epic is based is a great war which took place between the Kurus and a neighbouring tribe, the Panchalas, in the thirteenth or fourteenth century before Christ. According to the Epic, Pandu and Dhrita-rashtra, who was born blind, were brothers. Pandu died early, and Dhrita-rashtra became king of the Kurus, and brought up the five sons of Pandu along with his hundred sons. Yudhishthir, the eldest son of Pandu, was a man of truth and piety; Bhima, the second, was a stalwart fighter; and Arjun, the third son, distinguished himself above all the other princes in arms. The two youngest brothers, Nakula and Sahadeva, were twins. Duryodhan was the eldest son of Dhrita-rashtra and was jealous of his cousins, the sons of Pandu. A tournament was held, and in the course of the day a warrior named Karna, of unknown origin, appeared on the scene and proved himself a worthy rival of Arjun. The rivalry between Arjun and Karna is the leading thought of the Epic, as the rivalry between Achilles and Hector is the leading thought of the Iliad. It is only necessary to add that the sons of Pandu as well as Karna, were, like the heroes of Homer, god-born chiefs. Some god inspired the birth of each. Yudhishthir was the son of Dharma or Virtue, Bhima of Vayu or Wind, Arjun of Indra or Rain-god, the twin youngest were the sons of the Aswin twins, and Karna was the son of Surya the Sun, but was believed by himself and by all others to be the son of a simple chariot-driver. The portion translated in this Book forms Sections cxxxiv. to cxxxvii. of Book i. of the original Epic in Sanscrit (Calcutta edition of 1834). I The Gathering Wrathful sons of Dhrita-rashtra, born of Kuru's royal race! Righteous sons of noble Pandu, god-born men of godlike grace! Skill in arms attained these princes from a Brahman warrior bold, Drona, priest and proud preceptor, peerless chief of days of old! Out spake Drona to the monarch in Hastina's royal hall, Spake to Bhishma and to Kripa, spake to lords and courtiers all: "Mark the gallant princes, monarch, trained in arms and warlike art, Let them prove their skill and valour, rein the steed and throw the dart." Answered then the ancient monarch, joyful was his royal heart, "Best of Brahmans and of warriors, nobly hast thou done thy part! Name the place and fix the moment, hold a royal tournament, Publish wide the laws of combat, publish far thy king's consent. Sightless roll these orbs of vision, dark to me is noonday light, Happier men will mark the tourney and the peerless princes' fight. Let the good and wise Vidura serve thy mandate and behest, Let a father's pride and gladness fill this old and cheerless breast." Then the good and wise Vidura unto his duties bound, Drona, blessed with skill and wisdom, measured out the tourney ground, Clear of jungle was the meadow, by a crystal fountain graced, Drona on the lighted altar holy gifts and offerings placed, Holy was the star auspicious, and the hour was calm and bright, Men from distant town and hamlet came to view the sacred rite. Then arose white stately mansions, built by architects of fame, Decked with arms for Kuru's monarch and for every royal dame, And the people built their stages circling round the listed green, And the nobles with their white tents graced the fair and festive scene. Brightly dawned the festal morning, and the monarch left his hall, Bhishma and the pious Kripa with the lords and courtiers all, And they came unto the mansions, gay and glittering, gold-encased, Decked with gems and rich _baidurya_, and with strings of pearls be-laced. Fair Gandhari, queen of Kuru, Pritha, Pandu's widowed dame, Ladies in their gorgeous garments, maids of beauty and of fame, Mounted on their glittering mansions where the tints harmonious blend, As, on Meru's golden mountain, queens of heavenly gods ascend! And the people of the city, Brahmans, Vaisyas, Kshatras bold, Men from stall and loom and anvil gathered thick, the young and old, And arose the sound of trumpet and the surging people's cry, Like the voice of angry ocean, tempest-lashed, sublime and high! Came the saintly white-robed Drona, white his sacrificial thread, White his sandal-mark and garlands, white the locks that crowned his head, With his son renowned for valour walked forth Drona, radiant, high, So the Moon with Mars conjoinéd walks upon the cloudless sky! Offerings to the gods immortal then the priestly warrior made, Brahmans with their chanted _mantra_ worship and obeisance paid, And the festive note of _sankha_ mingled with the trumpet's sound, Throngs of warriors, various-arméd, came unto the listed ground. II The Princes Gauntleted and jewel-girdled, now the warlike princes came, With their stately bows and quivers and their swords like wreaths of flame, Each behind his elder stepping, good Yudhishthir first of all, Each his wondrous skill displaying held the silent crowds in thrall. And the men in admiration marked them with a joyful eye, Or by sudden panic stricken stooped to let the arrow fly! Mounted on their rapid coursers oft the princes proved their aim, Racing, hit the targe with arrows lettered with their royal name, With their glinting sunlit weapons shone the youths sublime and high, More than mortals seemed the princes, like _gandharvas_ of the sky! Shouts of joy the people uttered as by sudden impulse driven, Mingled voice of tens of thousands struck the pealing vault of heaven! Still the princes shook their weapons, drove the deep resounding car, Or on steed or tusker mounted waged the glorious mimic war! Mighty sword and ample buckler, ponderous mace the princes wield, Brightly gleam their lightning rapiers as they range the listed field, Brave and fearless is their action, and their movement quick and light, Skilled and true the thrust and parry of their weapons flaming bright! III Bhima and Duryodhan Bhima came and proud Duryodhan with their maces held on high, Like two cliffs with lofty turrets cleaving through the azure sky! In their warlike arms accoutred with their girded loins they stood, Like two untamed jungle tuskers in the deep and echoing wood! And as tuskers range the forest, so they range the spacious field, Right to left and back they wander and their ponderous maces wield! Unto Kuru's sightless monarch wise Vidura drew the scene, Pritha proudly of the princes spake unto the Kuru queen. While the stalwart Bhima battled with Duryodhan brave and strong, Fierce in wrath, for one or other, shouted forth the maddened throng, "Hail to Kuru prince Duryodhan!" "Hail to Bhima hero proud!" Sounds like these from surging myriads rose in tumult deep and loud. And with troubled vision Drona marked the heaving restless plain, Marked the crowd by anger shaken, like the tempest-shaken main, To his son then whispered Drona quick the tumult to appease, Part the armed and angry wrestlers, bid the deadly combat cease, With their lifted clubs the princes slow retired on signal given, Like the parting of the billows, mighty-heaving, tempest-driven! Came forth then the ancient Drona on the open battle-ground, Stopped the drum and lofty trumpet, spake in voice like thunder's sound: "Bid him come, the gallant Arjun! pious prince and warrior skilled, Arjun, born of mighty INDRA, and with VISHNU'S prowess filled." IV The Advent of Arjun Gauntleted and jewel-girdled, with his bow of ample height, Archer Arjun pious-hearted to the gods performed a rite, Then he stepped forth proud and stately in his golden mail encased, Like the sunlit cloud of evening with the golden rainbow graced! And a gladness stirred the people all around the listed plain, Voice of drum and blare of trumpet rose with _sankha's_ festive strain! "Mark! the gallant son of Pandu, whom the happy Pritha bore, Mark! the heir of INDRA'S valour, matchless in his arms and lore, Mark! the warrior young and valiant, peerless in his skill of arms, Mark! the pure-souled, pious chieftain, decked with grace and varied charms!" Pritha heard such grateful voices borne aloft unto the sky, Milk of love suffused her bosom, tear of joy was in her eye! And where rested Kuru's monarch, joyous accents struck his ear, And he turned to wise Vidura seeking for the cause to hear: "Wherefore like the voice of ocean, when the tempest winds prevail, Rise these voices of the people and the spacious skies assail?" Answered him the wise Vidura, "It is Pritha's gallant boy, Godlike moves in golden armour, and the people shout for joy!" "Pleased am I," so spake the monarch, "and I bless my happy fate, Pritha's sons like fires of _yajna_ sanctify this mighty State!" Now the voices of the people died away and all was still, Arjun to his proud preceptor showed his might and matchless skill. Towering high or lowly bending, on the turf or on his car, With his bow and glist'ning arrows Arjun waged the mimic war, Targets on the wide arena, mighty tough or wondrous small, With his arrows bright, unfailing, Arjun pierced them one and all! Wild-boar shaped of solid iron coursed the wide-extending field, In its jaws five glist'ning arrows sent the archer wondrous-skilled, Cow-horn by a thread suspended, was by winds unceasing swayed, One and twenty well-aimed arrows on this moving mark he laid, And with equal skill his rapier did the godlike Arjun wield, Whirling round his mace of battle ranged the spacious tourney field! V The Advent of Karna Now the feats of arm are ended, and the closing hour draws nigh, Music's voice is hushed in silence, and dispersing crowds pass by, Hark! Like welkin-shaking thunder wakes a deep and deadly sound, Clank and din of warlike weapons burst upon the tented ground! Are the solid mountains splitting, is it bursting of the earth, Is it tempest's pealing accent whence the lightning takes its birth? Thoughts like these alarm the people for the sound is dread and high, To the gate of the arena turns the crowd with anxious eye! Gathered round preceptor Drona, Pandu's sons in armour bright, Like the five-starred constellation round the radiant Queen of Night, Gathered round the proud Duryodhan, dreaded for his exploits done, All his brave and warlike brothers and preceptor Drona's son, So the gods encircled INDRA, thunder-wielding, fierce and bold, When he scattered Danu's children in the misty days of old! Pale, before the unknown warrior, gathered nations part in twain, Conqueror of hostile cities, lofty Karna treads the plain! In his golden mail accoutred and his rings of yellow gold, Like a moving cliff in stature, arméd comes the chieftain bold! Pritha, yet unwedded, bore him, peerless archer on the earth, Portion of the solar radiance, for the Sun inspired his birth! Like a tusker in his fury, like a lion in his ire, Like the sun in noontide radiance, like the all-consuming fire! Lion-like in build and muscle, stately as a golden palm, Blessed with every very manly virtue, peerless warrior proud and calm! With his looks serene and lofty field of war the chief surveyed, Scarce to Kripa or to Drona honour and obeisance made! Still the panic-stricken people viewed him with unmoving gaze, Who may be this unknown warrior, questioned they in hushed amaze! Then in voice of pealing thunder spake fair Pritha's eldest son Unto Arjun, Pritha's youngest, each, alas! to each unknown! "All thy feats of weapons, Arjun, done with vain and needless boast, These and greater I accomplish--witness be this mighty host!" Thus spake proud and peerless Karna in his accents deep and loud, And as moved by sudden impulse leaped in joy the listening crowd! And a gleam of mighty transport glows in proud Duryodhan's heart, Flames of wrath and jealous anger from the eyes of Arjun start! Drona gave the word, and Karna, Pritha's war-beloving son, With his sword and with his arrows did the feats by Arjun done! VI The Rival Warriors Joyful was the proud Duryodhan, gladness gleamed upon his face, And he spake to gallant Karna with a dear and fond embrace: "Welcome, mighty arméd chieftain! thou hast victor's honours won! Thine is all my wealth and kingdom, name thy wish and it is done!" Answered Karna to Duryodhan, "Prince! thy word is good as deed, But I seek to combat Arjun and to win the victor's meed!" "Noble is the boon thou seekest," answered Kuru's prince of fame, "Be a joy unto your comrades, let the foeman dread thy name!" Anger flamed in Arjun's bosom, and he spake in accents rude Unto Karna who in triumph calm and proud and fearless stood: "Chief! who comest uninvited, pratest in thy lying boast, Thou shalt die the death of braggarts--witness be this mighty host!" Karna answered calm and proudly, "Free this listed field to all, Warriors enter by their prowess, wait not, Arjun, for thy call! Warlike chieftains take their places by their strength of arm and might, And their warrant is their falchion, valour sanctifies their right! Angry word is coward's weapon, Arjun, speak with arrows keen, Till I lay thee, witness Drona, low upon the listed green!" Drona gave the word impartial, wrathful Arjun, dread of foes, Parted from his loving brothers, with his glist'ning arms arose, Karna clasped the Kuru's princes, parted from them one and all, With his bow and ample quiver proudly stepped the warrior tall. Now the clouds with lurid flashes gathered darkling, thick and high, Lines of cranes like gleams of laughter sailed across the gloomy sky. Rain-god INDRA over Arjun watched with father's partial love, Sun-god SURYA over Karna shed his light from far above, Arjun stood in darkening shadow by the inky clouds concealed, Bold and bright in open sunshine radiant Karna stood revealed! Proud Duryodhan and his brothers stood by Karna calm and bold, Drona stood by gallant Arjun, and brave Bhishma, warrior old, Women too with partial glances viewed the one or other chief, But by equal love divided silent Pritha swooned in grief! Wise Vidura, true to duty, with an anxious hurry came, Sandal-drops and sprinkled waters roused the woe-distracted dame, And she saw her sons in combat, words of woe she uttered none, Speechless wept, for none must fathom Karna was her eldest son! VII The Anointment of Karna Crested Karna, helméd Arjun, proudly trod the spacious green, Kripa, skilled in herald's duties, spake upon the dreadful scene: _"This is helmet-wearing Arjun, sprung of Kuru's mighty race, Pandu's son and borne by Pritha, prince of worth and warlike grace,_ _Long-armed Chief! declare thy lineage, and the race thou dost adorn, Name thy mother and thy father, and the house that saw thee born,_ _By the rules of war Prince Arjun claims his rival chief to know, Princes may not draw their weapon 'gainst a base and nameless foe!"_ Karna silent heard this mandate but his birth could not proclaim, Like a raindrop-pelted lotus bent his humble head in shame! "Prince we reckon," cried Duryodhan, "not the man of birth alone, Warlike leader of his forces as a prince and chief we own! Karna by his warlike valour is of crownéd kings the peer, Karna shall be crownéd monarch, nations shall his mandate hear!" Forth they brought the corn and treasure, golden coin and water jar, On the throne they seated Karna famed in many a deathful war, Brahmans chanted sacred _mantra_ which the holy books ordain, And anointed Karna monarch, king of Anga's fair domain, And they raised the red umbrella, and they waved the _chowri_ fan, "Blessings on the crownéd monarch! honour to the bravest man!" Now the holy rites accomplished, in his kingly robes arrayed Karna unto prince Duryodhan thus in grateful accents prayed: "Gift of kingdom, good Duryodhan, speaketh well thy noble heart, What return can grateful Karna humbly render on his part?" "Grant thy friendship," cried Duryodhan, "for no other boon I crave, Be Duryodhan's dearest comrade be his helper true and brave!" "Be it so!" responded Karna, with a proud and noble grace, And he sealed his loyal friendship in a dear and fond embrace! VIII The Chariot-driver Wet with drops of toil and languor, lo! a chariot-driver came, Loosely hung his scanty garments, and a staff upheld his frame, Karna, now a crownéd monarch, to the humble charioteer, Bent his head, still moist with water, as unto a parent dear! With his scanty cloth the driver sought his dusty feet to hide, And he hailed the gallant Karna as his son and as his pride, And he clasped unto his bosom crownéd Karna's noble head, And on Karna's dripping forehead, fresh and loving tear-drops shed! Is he son of chariot-driver? Doubts arose in Bhima's mind, And he sought to humble Karna with reproachful words unkind: "Wilt thou, high-descended hero, with a Kuru cross thy brand? But the goad of cattle-drivers better suits, my friend, thy hand! Wilt thou as a crownéd monarch rule a mighty nation's weal? As the jackals of the jungle sacrificial offerings steal!" Quivered Karna's lips in anger, word of answer spake he none, But a deep sigh shook his bosom, and he gazed upon the sun! IX Close of the Day Like a lordly tusker rising from a beauteous lotus lake, Rose Duryodhan from his brothers, proudly thus to Bhima spake: "With such insults seek not, Bhima, thus to cause a warrior grief, Bitter taunts but ill befit thee, warlike tiger-waisted chief! Proudest chief may fight the humblest, for like river's noble course, Noble deeds proclaim the warrior, and we question not their source! Teacher Drona, priest and warrior, owns a poor and humble birth, Kripa, noblest of Gautamas, springeth from the lowly earth! Known to me thy lineage Bhima, thine and of thy brothers four, Amorous gods your birth inspiréd, so they say, in days of yore! Mark the great and gallant Karna decked in rings and weapons fair, She-deer breeds not lordly tigers in her poor and lowly lair! Karna comes to rule the wide earth, not fair Anga's realms alone, By his valour and his weapons, by the homage which I own! And if prince or arméd chieftain doth my word or deed gainsay, Let him take his bow and quiver, meet me in a deadly fray!" Loud applauses greet the challenge and the people's joyful cry, But the thickening shades of darkness fill the earth and evening sky, And the red lamp's fitful lustre shone upon the field around, Slowly with the peerless Karna proud Duryodhan left the ground. Pandu's sons with warlike Drona marked the darksome close of day, And with Kripa and with Bhishma homeward silent bent their way. "Arjun is the gallant victor!" "Valiant Karna's won the day!" "Prince Duryodhan is the winner!" Various thus the people say. By some secret sign appriséd Pritha knew her gallant boy, Saw him crownéd king of Anga, with a mother's secret joy, And with greater joy Duryodhan fastened Karna to his side, Feared no longer Arjun's prowess, Arjun's skill of arms and pride, E'en Yudhishthir reckoned Karna mightiest warrior on the earth, Half misdoubted Arjun's prowess, Arjun's skill and warlike worth! BOOK II SWAYAMVARA (The Bride's Choice) The mutual jealousies of the princes increased from day to day, and when Yudhishthir, the eldest of all the princes and the eldest son of the late Pandu, was recognised heir-apparent, the anger of Duryodhan and his brothers knew no bounds. And they formed a dark scheme to kill the sons of Pandu. The sons of Pandu were induced with their mother to pay a visit to a distant town called Varanavata. A house had been built there for their residence, constructed of inflammable materials. At the appointed time fire was set to the house; but the five brothers and their mother escaped the conflagration through a subterranean passage, retired into forests, and lived in the disguise of Brahmans. In course of time they heard of the approaching celebrations of the marriage of the princess of Panchala, an ancient kingdom in the vicinity of modern Kanouj. All the monarchs of Northern India were invited, and the bride would choose her husband from among the assembled kings according to the ancient _Swayamvara_ custom. The five sons of Pandu decided to go and witness the ceremony. The portion translated in this Book formed Sections clxxxiv. to cxxxix. of Book i. of the original text. I Journey to Panchala Now the righteous sons of Pandu, wand'ring far from day to day, Unto South Panchala's country glad and joyful held their way, For when travelling with their mother, so it chanced by will of fate, They were met by pious Brahmans bound for South Panchala's State, And the pure and holy Brahmans hailed the youths of noble fame, Asked them whither they would journey, from what distant land they came. "From the land of Ekachakra," good Yudhishthir answered so, "With our ancient mother travelling unto distant lands we go." "Heard ye not," the Brahmans questioned, "in Panchala's fair domain, Drupad, good and gracious monarch, doth a mighty feast ordain? To that festive land we journey, Drupad's bounteous gifts to share, And to see the _swayamvara_ of Panchala's princess fair,-- Human mother never bore her, human bosom never fed, From the Altar sprang the maiden who some noble prince will wed! Soft her eyes like lotus-petal, sweet her tender jasmine form, And a maiden's stainless honour doth her gentle soul inform! And her brother, mailed and arméd with his bow and arrows dire, Radiant as the blazing altar, sprang from Sacrificial Fire! Fair the sister slender-waisted, dowered with beauty rich and rare, And like fragrance of blue lotus, perfumes all the sweetened air! She will choose from noble suitors gathered from the west and east, Bright and fair shall be the wedding, rich and bounteous be the feast! Kings will come from distant regions sacrificing wealth and gold, Stainless monarchs versed in _sastra_, pious-hearted, mighty-souled, Handsome youths and noble princes from each near and distant land, Car-borne chieftains bold and skilful, brave of heart and stout of hand! And to win the peerless princess they will scatter presents rare, Food and milch-kine, wealth and jewels, gold and gifts and garments fair, Noble gifts we take as Brahmans, bless the rite with gladsome heart, Share the feast so rich and bounteous, then with joyful minds depart. Actors, mimes, and tuneful minstrels fair Panchala's court will throng, Famed reciters of _puranas_, dancers skilled and wrestlers strong, Come with us, the wedding witness, share the banquet rich and rare, Pleased with gifts and noble presents to your distant home repair. Dowered ye are with princely beauty, like the radiant gods above, Even on you the partial princess may surrender heart and love! And this youth so tall and stalwart, mighty-arméd, strong and bold, He may win in feats of valour, and acquire much wealth and gold!" "Be it so," Yudhishthir answered, "to Panchala we repair, View the wedding of the princess and the royal bounty share." Thus the righteous sons of Pandu with the Brahmans took their way, Where in South Panchala's kingdom mighty Drupad held his sway. Now the sinless saintly _rishi_, deathless bard of deathless lay, Herald of the holy Vedas, Vyasa stood before their way! And the princes bowed unto him and received his blessings kind, By his mandate to Panchala went with pleased and joyful mind! Jungle woods and silver waters round their sylvan pathway lay, Halting at each wayside station marched the princes day by day, Stainless and intent on _sastra_, fair in speech and pure in heart, Travelling slow they reached Panchala, saw its spacious town and mart, Saw the fort, bazaar and city, saw the spire and shining dome, In a potter's distant cottage made their humble unknown home, And disguised as pious Brahmans sons of Pandu begged their food, People knew not Kuru's princes in that dwelling poor and rude. II The Wedding Assembly To the helméd son of Pandu, Arjun pride of Kuru's race, Drupad longed to give his daughter peerless in her maiden grace, And of massive wood unbending, Drupad made a stubborn bow, Saving Arjun prince or chieftain might not bend the weapon low, And he made a whirling discus, hung it 'neath the open sky, And beyond the whirling discus placed a target far and high, "Whose strings this bow," said Drupad, "hits the target in his pride Through the high and circling discus, wins Panchala's princely bride!" And they spake the monarch's mandate in the kingdoms near and far, And from every town and country princes came and chiefs of war, Came the pure and saintly _rishis_ for to bless the holy rite, Came the Kurus with brave Karna in their pride and matchless might, Brahmans came from distant regions with their sacred learning blest, Drupad with a royal welcome greeted every honoured guest. Now the festal day approacheth! Gathering men with ocean's voice, Filled the wide and circling stages to behold the maiden's choice, Royal guests and princely suitors came in pomp of wealth and pride, Car-borne chiefs and mailéd warriors came to win the beauteous bride! North-east of the festive city they enclosed a level ground, Many a dome and stately palace cunning builders built around, And by moat and wall surrounded, pierced by gate and archéd door, By a canopy of splendour was the red field covered o'er! Now the festive trumpets sounded and the censer fragrance lent, Sprinkled _chandan_ spread its coolness, wreaths were hung of sweetest scent, All around were swan-white mansions, lofty domes and turrets high, Like the peaks of white Kailasa cleaving through the azure sky! Sparkling gems the chambers lighted, golden nets the windows laced, Spacious stairs so wide and lofty were with beauteous carpets graced, Rich festoons and graceful garlands gently waved like streamers gay, And the swan-like silver mansions glinted in the light of day, Gates below were thronged with people, far above the chambers lay, With their lofty gilded turrets like the peaks of Himalay! In these halls in pride and splendour dwelt each rich and royal guest, Fired by mutual emulation, and in costly jewels drest, Decked and perfumed sat these rulers, mighty-arméd, rich in fame, Lion-monarchs, noble-destined, chiefs of pure and spotless name, Pious to the mighty BRAHMA, and their subjects' hope and stay, Loved of all for noble actions, kind and virtuous in their sway. Now the festal day approacheth! like the heaving of the main, Surge the ranks of gathered nations o'er the wide and spacious plain, Pandu's sons in guise of Brahmans mix with Brahmans versed in lore, Mark proud Drupad's wealth and splendour, gazing, wondering evermore, Dancers charm the gathered people, singers sing and actors play, Fifteen days of festive splendour greet the concourse rich and gay. III The Bride Sound the drum and voice the _sankha!_ Brightly dawns the bridal day, Fresh from morning's pure ablutions comes the bride in garments gay! And her golden bridal garland carries on her graceful arm, Softly, sweetly, steps Draupadi, queen of every winning charm! Then a Brahman versed in _mantra_, ancient priest of lunar race, Lights the Fire, with pious offerings seeks its blessings and its grace, Whispered words of benediction saints and holy men repeat, Conch and trumpet's voice is silent, hushed the lofty war-drum's beat, And there reigns a solemn silence, and in stately pomp and pride, Drupad's son leads forth his sister, fair Panchala's beauteous bride! In his loud and lofty accents like the distant thunder's sound, Drupad's son his father's wishes thus proclaims to all around: _"Mark this bow, assembled monarchs, and the target hung an high, Through yon whirling piercéd discus let five glist'ning arrows fly!_ _Whoso born of noble lineage, hits the far suspended aim, Let him stand and as his guerdon Drupad's beauteous maiden claim!"_ Then he turns unto Draupadi, tells each prince and suitor's name, Tells his race and lofty lineage, and his warlike deeds of fame. IV The Suitors "Brave Duryodhan and his brothers, princes of the Kuruland, Karna proud and peerless archer, sister! seek thy noble hand, And Gandhara's warlike princes, Bhoja's monarch true and bold, And the son of mighty Drona, all bedecked in gems and gold! King and prince from Matsya kingdom grace this noble wedding-feast, Monarchs from more distant regions north and south and west and east, Tamralipta and Kalinga on the eastern ocean wave, Pattan's port whose hardy children western ocean's dangers brave! From the distant land of Madra car-borne monarch Salya came, And from Dwarka's sea-girt regions Valadeva known to fame, Valadeva and his brother Krishna sprung from Yadu's race, Of the Vrishni clan descended, soul of truth and righteous grace! This is mighty Jayadratha come from Sindhu's sounding shore, Famed for warlike feats of valour, famed alike for sacred lore, This is fair Kosala's monarch whose bright deeds our heralds sing, From the sturdy soil of Chedi, Sisupala peerless king, This is mighty Jarasandha, come from far Magadha's land, These are other princely suitors, sister! eager for thy hand! All the wide earth's warlike rulers seek to shoot the distant aim, Princess, whoso hits the target, choose as thine that prince of fame!" Decked with jewels, young and valiant, all aflame with soft desire, Conscious of their worth and valour, all the suitors rose in ire, Nobly born, of lofty presence, full of young unyielding pride, Like the tuskers wild and lordly on Himalay's wooded side! Each his rival marks as foeman as in field of deadly strife, Each regards the fair Draupadi as his own his queenly wife, On the gorgeous field they gather by a maddening passion fired, And they strive as strove the bright gods, when by Uma's love inspired! And the gods in cloud-borne chariots came to view the scene so fair, Bright ADITYAS in their splendour, MARUTS in the moving air, Winged _suparnas_, scaly _nagas_, _deva-rishis_ pure and high, For their music famed, _gandharvas_, fair _apsaras_ of the sky! Valadeva armed with ploughshare, Krishna chief of righteous fame, With the other Yadu chieftains to that wondrous bridal came, Krishna marked the sons of Pandu eager for the queenly bride, Like wild tuskers for a lotus, like the fire that ashes hide, And he knew the warlike brothers in their holy Brahman guise, Pointed them to Valadeva, gazing with a glad surprise! But the other chiefs and monarchs with their eyes upon the bride, Marked nor knew the sons of Pandu sitting speechless by their side, And the long-armed sons of Pandu smitten by KANDARPA'S dart, Looked on her with longing languor and with love-impassioned heart! Bright immortals gaily crowding viewed the scene surpassing fair, Heavenly blossoms soft descending with a perfume filled the air, Bright celestial cars in concourse sailed upon the cloudless sky, Drum and flute and harp and tabor sounded deep and sounded high! V Trial of Skill Uprose one by one the suitors, marking still the distant aim, Mighty monarchs, gallant princes, chiefs of proud and warlike fame, Decked in golden crown and necklace, and inflamed by pride and love, Stoutly strove the eager suitors viewing well the target above, Strove to string the weapon vainly, tough unbending was the bow, Slightly bent, rebounding quickly, laid the gallant princes low! Strove the handsome suitors vainly, decked in gem and burnished gold, Reft of diadem and necklace, fell each chief and warrior bold, Reft of golden crown and garland, shamed and humbled in their pride, Groaned the suitors in their anguish, sought no more Panchala's bride! Uprose Karna, peerless archer, proudest of the archers he, And he went and strung the weapon, fixed the arrows gallantly, Stood like SURYA in his splendour and like AGNI in his flame,-- Pandu's sons in terror whispered, Karna sure must hit the aim! But in proud and queenly accents Drupad's queenly daughter said: "Monarch's daughter, born a Kshatra, Suta's son I will not wed!" Karna heard with crimsoned forehead, left the emprise almost done, Left the bow already circled, silent gazed upon the Sun! Uprose Chedi's haughty monarch, mightiest of the monarchs he, Other kings had failed inglorious, Sisupala stood forth free, Firm in heart and fixed in purpose, bent the tough unbending bow, Vainly! for the bow rebounding laid the haughty monarch low! Uprose sturdy Jarasandha, far Magadha's mighty chief, Held the bow and stood undaunted, tall and stately as a cliff, But once more the bow rebounded, fell the monarch in his shame, Left in haste Panchala's mansions for the region whence he came! Uprose Salya, king of Madra, with his wondrous skill and might, Faltering, on his knees descending, fell in sad inglorious plight, Thus each monarch fell and faltered, merry whispers went around, And the sound of stifled laughter circled round the festive ground! VI The Disguised Arjun Hushed the merry sound of laughter, hushed each suitor in his shame, Arjun, godlike son of Pritha, from the ranks of Brahmans came, Guised as priest serene and holy, fair as INDRA'S rainbow bright, All the Brahmans shook their deerskins, cheered him in their hearts' delight! Some there were with sad misgivings heard the sound of joyous cheer And their minds were strangely anxious, whispered murmurs spake their fear: "Wondrous bow which Sisupala, mighty Salya could not strain, Jarasandha famed for prowess strove to bend the string in vain, Can a Brahman weak by nature, and in warlike arms untrained, Wield the bow which crownéd monarchs, long-armed chieftains have not strained? Sure the Brahman boy in folly dares a foolish thoughtless deed, Shame amidst this throng of monarchs, shall it be the Brahman's meed? Youth in youthful pride or madness will a foolish emprise dare, Sager men should stop his rashness and the Brahman's honour spare!" "Shame he will not bring unto us," other Brahmans made reply, "Rather, in this throng of monarchs, rich renown and honour high, Like a tusker strong and stately, like Himalay's towering crest, Stands unmoved the youthful Brahman, ample-shouldered, deep in chest, Lion-like his gait is agile, and determined is his air, Trust me he can do an emprise who hath lofty will to dare! He will do the feat of valour, will not bring disgrace and stain, Nor is task in all this wide earth which a Brahman tries in vain, Holy men subsist on wild fruits, in the strength of penance strong, Spare in form, in spirit mightier than the mightiest warlike throng! Ask not if 'tis right or foolish when a Brahman tries his fate, If it leads to woe or glory, fatal fall or fortune great, Son of _rishi_ Jamadagni baffled kings and chieftains high, And Agastya stainless _rishi_ drained the boundless ocean dry, Let this young and daring Brahman undertake the warlike deed, Let him try and by his prowess win the victor's noble meed!" While the Brahmans deep revolving hopes and timid fears expressed, By the bow the youthful Arjun stood unmoved like mountain crest, Silent round the wondrous weapon thrice the mighty warrior went, To the Lord of Gods, ISANA, in a silent prayer he bent! Then the bow which gathered warriors vainly tried to bend and strain, And the monarchs of the wide earth sought to string and wield in vain, Godlike Arjun born of INDRA, filled with VISHNU'S matchless might, Bent the wondrous bow of Drupad, fixed the shining darts aright, Through the disc the shining arrows fly with strange and hissing sound, Hit and pierce the distant target, bring it thundering on the ground! Shouts of joy and loud applauses did the mighty feat declare, Heavenly blossoms soft descended, heavenly music thrilled the air, And the Brahmans shook their deerskins, but each irritated chief In a lowly muttered whisper spake his rising rage and grief, _Sankha's_ note and voice of trumpet Arjun's glorious deed prolong, Bards and heralds chant his praises in a proud and deathless song! Drupad in the Brahman's mantle knew the hero proud and brave, 'Gainst the rage of baffled suitors sought the gallant prince to save, With his twin-born youngest brothers left Yudhishthir, peaceful, good, Bhima marked the gathering tempest and by gallant Arjun stood! Like a queen the beauteous maiden smiled upon the archer brave, Flung on him the bridal garland and the bridal robe she gave, Arjun by his skill and prowess won Panchala's princess-bride, People's shouts and Brahmans' blessings sounded joyful far and wide! VII The Tumult Spake the suitors, anger-shaken, like a forest tempest-torn, As Panchala's courteous monarch came to greet a Brahman-born: "Shall he like the grass of jungle trample us in haughty pride, To a prating priest and Brahman wed the proud and peerless bride? To our hopes like nourished saplings shall he now the fruit deny, Monarch proud who insults monarchs sure a traitor's death shall die, Honour for his rank we know not, have no mercy for his age, Perish foe of crownéd monarchs, victim to our righteous rage! Hath he asked us to his palace, favoured us with royal grace, Feasted us with princely bounty, but to compass our disgrace, In this concourse of great monarchs, glorious like a heavenly band, Doth he find no likely suitor for his beauteous daughter's hand? And this rite of _swayamvara_, so our sacred laws ordain, Is for warlike Kshatras only, priests that custom shall not stain, If this maiden on a Brahman casts her eye, devoid of shame, Let her expiate her folly in a pyre of blazing flame! Leave the priestling in his folly sinning through a Brahman's greed, For we wage no war with Brahmans and forgive a foolish deed, Much we owe to holy Brahmans for our realm and wealth and life, Blood of priest or wise preceptor shall not stain our noble strife, In the blood of sinful Drupad we the righteous laws maintain, Such disgrace in future ages monarchs shall not meet again!" Spake the suitors, tiger-hearted, iron-handed, bold and strong' Fiercely bent on blood and vengeance blindly rose the maddened throng, On they came, the angry monarchs, armed for cruel vengeful strife, Drupad midst the holy Brahmans trembling fled for fear of life, Like wild elephants of jungle rushed the kings upon their foes, Calm and stately, stalwart Bhima and the gallant Arjun rose! With a wilder rage the monarchs viewed these brothers cross their path, Rushed upon the daring warriors for to slay them in their wrath, Weaponless was noble Bhima, but in strength like lightning's brand, Tore a tree with peerless prowess, shook it as a mighty wand! And the foe-compelling warrior held that mace of living wood, Strong as death with deadly weapon, facing all his foes he stood, Arjun too with godlike valour stood unmoved, his bow in hand, Side by side the dauntless brothers faced the fierce and fiery band! VIII Krishna to the Rescue Krishna knew the sons of Pandu though in robes of Brahmans dressed, To his elder, Valadeva, thus his inner thoughts expressed: "Mark that youth with bow and arrow and with lion's lordly gait, He is helmet-wearing Arjun! greatest warrior midst the great, Mark his mate, with tree uprooted how he meets the suitor band, Save the tiger-waisted Bhima none can claim such strength of hand! And the youth with eyes like lotus, he who left the court erewhile, He is pious-souled Yudhishthir, man without a sin or guile, And the others by Yudhishthir, Pandu's twin-born sons are they, With these sons the righteous Pritha 'scaped where death and danger lay, For the jealous, fierce Duryodhan darkly schemed their death by fire, But the righteous sons of Pandu 'scaped his unrelenting ire!" Krishna rose amidst the monarchs, strove the tumult to appease, And unto the angry suitors spake in words of righteous peace, Monarchs bowed to Krishna's mandate, left Panchala's festive land, Arjun took the beauteous princess, gently led her by the hand. BOOK III RAJASUYA (The Imperial Sacrifice) A curious incident followed the bridal of Draupadi. The five sons of Pandu returned with her to the potter's house, where they were living on alms according to the custom of Brahmans, and the brothers reported to their mother that they had received a great gift on that day. "Enjoy ye the gift in common," replied their mother, not knowing what it was. And as a mother's mandate cannot be disregarded, Draupadi became the common wife of the five brothers. The real significance of this strange legend is unknown. The custom of brothers marrying a common wife prevails to this day in Thibet and among the hill-tribes of the Himalayas, but it never prevailed among the Aryan Hindus of India. It is distinctly prohibited in their laws and institutes, and finds no sanction in their literature, ancient or modern. The legend in the _Maha-bharata_, of brothers marrying a wife in common, stands alone and without a parallel in Hindu traditions and literature. Judging from the main incidents of the Epic, Draupadi might rather be regarded as the wife of the eldest brother Yudhishthir. Bhima had already mated himself to a female in a forest, by whom he had a son, Ghatotkacha, who distinguished himself in war later on. Arjun too married the sister of Krishna, shortly after Draupadi's bridal, and had by her a son, Abhimanyu, who was one of the heroes of the war. On the other hand, Yudhishthir took to him self no wife save Draupadi, and she was crowned with Yudhishthir in the Rajasuya or Imperial Sacrifice. Notwithstanding the legend, therefore, Draupadi might be regarded as wedded to Yudhishthir, though won by the skill of Arjun, and this assumption would be in keeping with Hindu customs and laws, ancient and modern. The jealous Duryodhan heard that his contrivance to kill his cousins at Varanavata had failed. He also heard that they had found a powerful friend in Drupad, and had formed an alliance with him. It was no longer possible to keep them from their rightful inheritance. The Kuru kingdom was accordingly parcelled; Duryodhan retained the eastern and richer portion with its ancient capital _Hastina-pura_ on the Ganges; and the sons of Pandu were given the western portion on the Jumna, which was then a forest and a wilderness. The sons of Pandu cleared the forest and built a new capital _Indra-prastha_, the supposed ruins of which, near modern Delhi, are still pointed out to the curious traveller. Yudhishthir, the eldest of the five sons of Pandu, and now king of Indra-prastha, resolved to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice, which was a formal assumption of the Imperial title over all the kings of ancient India. His brothers went out with troops in all directions to proclaim his supremacy over all surrounding kings. Jarasandha, the powerful and semi-civilised king of Magadha or South Behar, opposed and was killed; but other monarchs recognised the supremacy of Yudhishthir and came to the sacrifice with tributes. King Dhrita-rashtra and his sons, now reigning at Hastina-pura, were politely invited to take a share in the performance of the sacrifice. The portion translated in this Book forms Sections xxxiii. To xxxvi. and Section xliv. of Book ii. of the original. I The Assemblage of Kings Ancient halls of proud Hastina mirrored bright on Ganga's wave! Thither came the son of Pandu, young Nakula true and brave, Came to ask Hastina's monarch, chief of Kuru's royal race, To partake Yudhishthir's banquet and his sacrifice to grace. Dhrita-rashtra came in gladness unto Indra-prastha's town, Marked its new-built tower and turret on the azure Jumna frown, With him came preceptor Kripa, and the ancient Bhishma came, Elders of the race of Kuru, chiefs and Brahmans known to fame. Monarchs came from distant regions to partake the holy rite, Warlike chiefs from court and castle in their arms accoutred bright, Kshatras came with ample tribute for the holy sacrifice, Precious gems and costly jewels, gold and gifts of untold price. Proud Duryodhan and his brothers came in fair and friendly guise, With the ancient Kuru monarch and Vidura, good and wise, With his son came brave Suvala from Gandhara's distant land, Car-borne Salya, peerless Karna, came with bow and spear and brand. Came the priest and proud preceptor Drona skilled in arms and lore, Jayadratha famed for valour came from Sindhu's sounding shore, Drupad came with gallant princes from Panchala's land of fame, Salwa lord of outer nations to the mighty gathering came. Bhagadatta came in chariot from the land of nations brave, Prag-jyotisha, where the red sun wakes on Brahma-putra's wave, With him came untutored _mlechchas_ who beside the ocean dwell, Uncouth chiefs of dusky nations from the lands where mountains swell, Came Virata, Matsya's monarch, and his warlike sons and bold, Sisupala, king of Chedi, with his son bedecked in gold. Came the warlike chiefs of Vrishni from the shores of Western Sea, And the lords of Madhya-desa, ever warlike ever free! II Feast and Sacrifice Jumna's dark and limpid waters laved Yudhishthir's palace walls And to hail him _Dharma-raja_, monarchs thronged his royal halls, He to honoured kings and chieftains with a royal grace assigned Palaces with sparkling waters and with trees umbrageous lined, Honoured thus, the mighty monarchs lived in mansions milky white, Like the peaks of famed Kailasa lifting proud their snowy height! Graceful walls that swept the meadows circled round the royal halls, Nets of gold belaced the casements, gems bedecked the shining walls, Flights of steps led up to chambers many-tinted-carpet-graced, And festooning fragrant garlands were harmonious interlaced! Far below from spacious gateways rose the people's gathering cry, And from far the swan-white mansions caught the ravished gazer's eye, Richly graced with precious metals shone the turrets bright and gay, Like the rich-ored shining turrets of the lofty Himalay. And the scene bedecked by _rishis_ and by priests and kings of might, Shone like azure sky in splendour, graced by deathless Sons of Light! Spake Yudhishthir unto Bhishma, elder of the Kuru race, Unto Drona proud preceptor, rich in lore and warlike grace, Spake to wise preceptor Kripa, versed in sacred rites of old, To Duryodhan and his brothers, honoured guests and kinsmen bold: "Friends and kinsmen, grant your favour and your sweet affection lend, May your kindness ever helpful poor Yudhishthir's rite attend, As your own, command my treasure, costly gifts and wealth untold, To the poor and to the worthy scatter free my gems and gold!" Speaking thus he made his _diksha_, and to holy work inclined, To his friends and to his kinsmen all their various tasks assigned: Proud Duhsasan in his bounty spread the rich and sumptuous feast, Drona's son with due devotion greeted saint and holy priest, Sanjay with a regal honour welcomed king and chief of might, Bhishma and the pious Drona watched the sacrificial rite, Kripa guarded wealth and treasure, gold and gems of untold price, And with presents unto Brahmans sanctified the sacrifice, Dhrita-rashtra, old and sightless, through the scene of gladness strayed, With a careful hand Vidura all the mighty cost defrayed, Proud Duryodhan took the tribute which the chiefs and monarchs paid, Pious Krishna unto Brahmans honour and obeisance made. 'Twas a gathering fair and wondrous on fair Jumna's sacred shore, Tributes in a thousand _nishkas_ every willing monarch bore, Costly gifts proclaimed the homage of each prince of warlike might, Chieftains vied with rival chieftains to assist the holy rite. Bright Immortals, robed in sunlight, sailed across the liquid sky, And their gleaming cloud-borne chariots rested on the turrets high! Hero-monarchs, holy Brahmans, filled the halls bedecked in gold, White-robed priests adept in _mantra_ mingled with the chieftains bold. And amidst this scene of splendour, pious-hearted, pure and good, Like the sinless god VARUNA, gentle-souled Yudhishthir stood, Six bright fires Yudhishthir lighted, offerings made to gods above, Gifts unto the poor and lowly spake the monarch's boundless love. Hungry men were fed and feasted with an ample feast of rice, Costly gifts to holy Brahmans graced the noble sacrifice, _Ida, ajya, homa_ offerings, pleased the "Shining Ones" on high, Brahmans pleased with costly presents with their blessings filled the sky! III Glimpses of the Truth Dawned the day of _abhisheka_, proud anointment, sacred bath, Crownéd kings and learnéd Brahmans crowded on Yudhishthir's path, And as gods and heavenly _rishis_ throng in BRAHMA'S mansions bright, Holy priests and noble monarchs graced the inner sacred site! Measureless their fame and virtue, great their penance and their power, And in converse deep and learned Brahmans passed the radiant hour, And on subjects great and sacred, oft divided in their thought, Various sages in their wisdom various diverse maxims taught, Weaker reasons seemed the stronger, faultless reasons often failed, Keen disputants like the falcon fell on views their rivals held! Some were versed in Laws of Duty, some the Holy Vows professed, Some with gloss and varied comment still his learned rival pressed, Bright the concourse of the Brahmans unto sacred learning given, Like the concourse of the bright stars in the glorious vault of heaven, None of impure caste and conduct trespassed on the holy site, None of impure life and manners stained Yudhishthir's sacred rite! _Deva-rishi_, saintly Narad, marked the sacrificial rite, Sanctifying by its lustre good Yudhishthir's royal might, And a ray of heavenly wisdom lit the _rishi's_ inner eye, As he saw the gathered monarchs in the concourse proud and high! He had heard from lips celestial in the heavenly mansions bright, All these kings were god incarnate, portions of Celestial Light, And he saw in them embodied beings of the upper sky, And in lotus-eyéd Krishna saw the Highest of the High! Saw the ancient NARAYANA, great Creation's Primal Cause, Who had sent the gods as monarchs to uphold his righteous laws, Battle for the cause of virtue, perish in a deadly war, Then to seek their upper mansions in the radiant realms afar! "NARAYANA, World's Preserver, sent immortal gods on earth, He himself in race of Yadu hath assumed his mortal birth, Like the moon among the planets born in Vrishni's noble clan,-- He whom bright gods render worship,--NARAYANA, Son of Man, Primal Cause and Self-created! when is done his purpose high, NARAYANA leads Immortals to their dwelling in the sky." Such bright glimpses of the Secret flashed upon his inner sight, As in lofty contemplation Narad gazed upon the rite. IV The Arghya Outspake Bhishma to Yudhishthir: "Monarch of this wide domain, Honour due to crowned monarchs doth our sacred law ordain, Arghya to the wise Preceptor, to the Kinsman and to Priest, To the Friend and to the Scholar, to the King as lord of feast, Unto these is due the _arghya_, so our holy writs have said, Therefore to these kings assembled be the highest honour paid, Noble are these crownéd monarchs, radiant like the noonday sun, To the noblest, first in virtue, be the foremost honour done!" "Who is noblest," quoth Yudhishthir, "in this galaxy of fame, Who of chiefs and crownéd monarchs doth our foremost honour claim?" Pond'ring spake the ancient Bhishma in his accents deep and clear: "Greatest midst the great is Krishna! chief of men without a peer! Midst these monarchs pure in lustre, purest-hearted and most high Like the radiant sun is Krishna midst the planets of the sky, Sunless climes are warmed to verdure by the sun's returning ray, Windless wastes are waked to gladness when reviving breezes play, Even so this _rajasuya_, this thy sacrificial rite, Owes its sanctity and splendour unto Krishna's holy might!" Bhishma spake and Sahadeva served his mandate quick as thought, And the _arghya_ duly flavoured unto peerless Krishna brought, Krishna trained in rules of virtue then the offered _arghya_ took, Darkened Sisupala's forehead and his frame in tremor shook, To Yudhishthir and to Bhishma turns the chief his flaming eyes, To the great and honoured Krishna, Sisupala wrathful cries. V Sisupala's Pride "Not to Vrishni's uncrowned hero should this reverence be paid, Midst these mighty crownéd monarchs in their kingly pomp arrayed, Ill beseems the good Yudhishthir, royal Pandu's righteous son, Homage to an uncrowned chieftain, to the lowly honour done! Pandu's sons are yet untutored, and with knowledge yet unblessed, Knowing Bhishma blessed with wisdom hath the rules of courts transgressed, Learnéd in the Laws of Duty he hath sinned from partial love, Conscious breach of rules of honour doth our deeper hatred move! In this throng of crownéd monarchs, ruling kings of righteous fame, Can this uncrowned Vrishni chieftain foremost rank and honour claim? Doth he as a sage and elder claim the homage to him done? Sure his father Vasudeva hath his claims before his son! Doth he as Yudhishthir's kinsman count as foremost and the best? Royal Drupad by alliance surely might the claim contest! Doth he as a wise preceptor claim the highest, foremost place, When the great preceptor Drona doth his royal mansion grace? Unto Krishna as a _rishi_ should the foremost rank be given? Saintly Vyasa claims the honour, Vedic bard inspired by Heaven! Unto Krishna should we render honour for his warlike fame? Thou, O Bhishma! Death's Subduer, surely might precedence claim! Unto Krishna for his knowledge should the noble prize we yield? Drona's son unmatched in learning surely might contest the field! Great Duryodhan midst the princes stands alone without a peer, Kripa priest of royal Kurus, holiest of all priests is here! Archer Karna--braver archer none there is of mortal birth-- Karna learnt his arms from Rama, he who slew the kings of earth! Wherefore then to unknown Krishna render we this homage free! Saintly priest, nor wise preceptor, king nor foremost chief is he!" VI Sisupala's Fall Tiger-hearted Sisupala spake in anger stem and high, Calm unto him Krishna answered, but a light was in his eye: "List, O chiefs and righteous monarchs! from a daughter of our race Evil-destined Sisupala doth his noble lineage trace, Spite of wrong and frequent outrage, spite of insult often flung, Never in his heart hath Krishna sought to do his kinsman wrong! Once I went to eastern regions, Sisupala like a foe Burnt my far-famed seaport Dwarka, laid the mart and temple low! Once on Bhoja's trusting monarch faithless Sisupala fell, Slew his men and threw him captive in his castle's dungeon cell! Once for holy _aswamedha_ Vasudeva sent his steed, Sisupala stole the charger, sought to stop the righteous deed, Once on saintly Babhru's consort, pious-hearted, pure and just, Sisupala fell in madness, forced the lady to his lust, Once Visala's beauteous princess went to seek her husband's side, In her husband's garb disguiséd Sisupala clasped the bride! This and more hath Krishna suffered, for his mother is our kin, But the sickening tale appalleth, and he addeth sin to sin! One more tale of sin I mention: by his impious passion fired, To my saintly wife, Rukmini, Sisupala hath aspired, As the low-born seeks the _Veda_, soiling it with impure breath, Sisupala sought my consort, and his righteous doom is Death!" Krishna spake; the rising red blood speaks each angry hero's shame, Shame for Chedi's impious actions, grief for Sisupala's fame! Loudly laughed proud Sisupala, spake with bitter taunt and jeer, Answered Krishna's lofty menace with disdain and cruel sneer: "Wherefore in this vast assembly thus proclaim thy tale of shame, If thy wedded wife and consort did inspire my youthful flame? Doth a man of sense and honour, blest with wisdom and with pride, Thus proclaim his wedded consort was another's loving bride? Do thy worst! Or if by anger or by weak forbearance led, Sisupala seeks no mercy, nor doth Krishna's anger dread!" Lowered Krishna's eye and forehead, and unto his hands there came Fatal disc, the dread of sinners, disc that never missed its aim, "Monarchs in this hall assembled!" Krishna in his anger cried, "Oft hath Chedi's impious monarch Krishna's noble rage defied, For unto his pious mother plighted word and troth was given, Sisupala's hundred follies would by Krishna be forgiven, I have kept the plighted promise, but his crimes exceed the tale, And beneath this vengeful weapon Sisupala now shall quail!" Then the bright and whirling discus, as this mandate Krishna said, Fell on impious Sisupala, from his body smote his head, Fell the mighty-arméd monarch like a thunder-riven rock, Severed from the parent mountain by the bolt's resistless shook! And his soul be-cleansed of passions came forth from its mortal shroud, Like the radiant sun in splendour from a dark and mantling cloud, Unto Krishna good and gracious, like a lurid spark aflame, Chastened of its sin and anger, Sisupala's spirit came! Rain descends in copious torrents, quick the lurid lightnings fly, And the wide earth feels a tremor, restless thunders shake the sky, Various feelings away the monarchs as they stand in hushed amaze, Mutely in those speechless moments on the lifeless warrior gaze! Some there are who seek their weapons, and their nervous fingers shake, And their lips they bite in anger, and their frames in tremor quake, Others in their inmost bosom welcome Krishna's righteous deed, Look on death of Sisupala as a sinner's proper meed, _Rishis_ bless the deed of Krishna as they wend their various ways, Brahmans pure and pious-hearted chant the righteous Krishna's praise! Sad Yudhishthir, gentle-hearted, thus unto his brothers said: "Funeral rites and regal honours be performed unto the dead," Duteously his faithful brothers then performed each pious rite, Honours due to Chedi's monarch, to his rank and peerless might, Sisupala's son they seated in his mighty father's place, And with holy _abhisheka_ hailed him king of Chedi's race! VII Yudhishthir Emperor Thus removed the hapless hindrance, now the holy sacrifice Was performed with joy and splendour and with gifts of gold and rice, Godlike Krishna watched benignly with his bow and disc and mace, And Yudhishthir closed the feasting with his kindliness and grace. Brahmans sprinkled holy water on the empire's righteous lord, All the monarchs made obeisance, spake in sweet and graceful word: "Born of race of Ajamidha! thou hast spread thy father's fame, Rising by thy native virtue thou hast won a mightier name, And this rite unto thy station doth a holier grace instil, And thy royal grace and kindness all our hope and wish fulfil, Grant us, king of mighty monarchs, now unto our realms we go, Emperor o'er earthly rulers, blessings and thy grace bestow!" Good Yudhishthir to the monarchs parting grace and honours paid, And unto his duteous brothers thus in loving-kindness said: "To our feast these noble monarchs came from loyal love they bear, Far as confines of their kingdoms, with them let our friends repair." And his brothers and his kinsmen duteously his hest obey, With each parting guest and monarch journey on the home ward way. Arjun wends with high-souled Drupad, famed for lofty warlike grace, Dhrishta-dyumna with Virata, monarch of the Matsya race, Bhima on the ancient Bhishma and on Kuru's king doth wait, Sahadeva waits on Drona, great in arms, in virtue great, With Gandhara's warlike monarch brave Nakula holds his way, Other chiefs with other monarchs where their distant kingdoms lay. Last of all Yudhishthir's kinsman, righteous Krishna fain would part, And unto the good Yudhishthir opens thus his joyful heart: "Done this glorious _rajasuya_, joy and pride of Kuru's race, Grant, O friend! to sea-girt Dwarka, Krishna now his steps must trace." "By thy grace and by thy valour," sad Yudhishthir thus replies, "By thy presence, noble Krishna, I performed this high emprise, By thy all-subduing glory monarchs bore Yudhishthir's sway, Came with gifts and costly presents, came their tributes rich to pay, Must thou part? my uttered accents may not bid thee, friend, to go, In thy absence vain were empire, and this life were full of woe, Yet thou partest, sinless Krishna, dearest, best belovéd friend, And to Dwarka's sea-washed mansions Krishna must his footsteps bend!" Then unto Yudhishthir's mother, pious-hearted Krishna hies, And in accents love-inspiring thus to ancient Pritha cries: "Regal fame and righteous glory crown thy sons, reveréd dame, Joy thee in their peerless prowess, in their holy spotless fame, May thy sons' success and triumph cheer a widowed mother's heart, Grant me leave, O noble lady! for to Dwarka I depart." From Yudhishthir's queen Draupadi parts the chief with many a tear, And from Arjun's wife Subhadra, Krishna's sister ever dear, Then with rites and due ablutions to the gods are offerings made, Priests repeat their benedictions, for the righteous Krishna said, And his faithful chariot-driver brings his falcon-bannered car, Like the clouds in massive splendour and resistless in the war, Pious Krishna mounts the chariot, fondly greets his friends once more, Leaves blue Jumna's sacred waters for his Dwarka's dear-loved shore, Still Yudhishthir and his brothers, sad and sore and grieved at heart, Followed Krishna's moving chariot, for they could not see him part, Krishna stopped once more his chariot, and his parting blessing gave, Thus the chief with eyes of lotus spake in accents calm and brave: _"King of men! with sleepless watching ever guard thy kingdom flair, Like a father tend thy subjects with a father's love and care,_ _Be unto them like the rain-drop nourishing the thirsty ground, Be unto them tree of shelter shading them from heat around,_ _Like the blue sky ever bending be unto them ever kind, Free from pride and free from passion rule them with a virtuous mind!"_ Spake and left the saintly Krishna, pure and pious-hearted chief, Sad Yudhishthir wended homeward and his heart was filled with grief. BOOK IV DYUTA (The Fatal Dice) Duryodhan came back from the Imperial Sacrifice filled with jealousy against Yudhishthir, and devised plans to effect his fall. Sakuni, prince of Gandhara, shared Duryodhan's hatred towards the sons of Pandu, and helped him in his dark scheme. Yudhishthir with all his piety and righteousness had one weakness, the love of gambling, which was one of the besetting sins of the monarchs of the day. Sakuni was an expert at false dice, and challenged Yudhishthir, and Yudhishthir held it a point of honour not to decline such a challenge. He came from his new capital, Indra-prastha, to Hastina-pura the capital of Duryodhan, with his mother and brothers and Draupadi. And as Yudhishthir lost game after game, he was stung with his losses, and with the recklessness of a gambler still went on with the fatal game. His wealth and hoarded gold and jewels, his steeds, elephants and cars, his slaves male and female, his empire and possessions, were all staked and lost! The madness increased, and Yudhishthir staked his brothers, and then himself, and then the fair Draupadi, and lost! And thus the Emperor of Indra-prastha and his family were deprived of every possession on earth, and became the bond-slaves of Duryodhan. The old king Dhrita-rashtra released them from actual slavery, but the five brothers retired to forests as homeless exiles. Portions of Section lxv. and the whole of Sections lxix., lxxvi., and lxxvii. of Book ii. of the original text have been translated in this Book. I Draupadi in the Council Hall Glassed on Ganga's limpid waters brightly shine Hastina's walls Queen Draupadi duly honoured lives within the palace halls, But as steals a lowly jackal in a lordly lion's den, Base Duryodhan's humble menial came to proud Draupadi's ken. "Pardon, Empress," quoth the menial, "royal Pandu's righteous son, Lost his game and lost his reason, Empress, thou art staked and won, Prince Duryodhan claims thee, lady, and the victor bids me say, Thou shalt serve him as his vassal, as his slave in palace stay!" "Have I heard thee, menial, rightly?" questioned she in anguish keen, "Doth a crownéd king and husband stake his wife and lose his queen, Did my noble lord and monarch sense and reason lose at dice, Other stake he did not wager, wedded wife to sacrifice!" "Other stakes were duly wagered," so he spake with bitter groan, "Wealth and empire, every object which Yudhishthir called his own, Lost himself and all his brothers, bondsmen are those princes brave, Then he staked his wife and empress, thou art prince Duryodhan's slave!" Rose the queen in queenly anger, and with woman's pride she spake "Hie thee, menial, to thy master, Queen Draupadi's answer take, If my lord, himself a bondsman, then hath staked his queen and wife, False the stake, for owns a bondsman neither wealth nor other's life, Slave can wager wife nor children, and such action is undone, Take my word to prince Duryodhan, Queen Draupadi is unwon!" Wrathful was the proud Duryodhan when he heard the answer bold, To his younger, wild Duhsasan, this his angry mandate told: "Little-minded is the menial, and his heart in terror fails, For the fear of wrathful Bhima, lo! his coward-bosom quails, Thou Duhsasan, bid the princess as our humble slave appear, Pandu's sons are humble bondsmen, and thy heart it owns no fear!" Fierce Duhsasan heard the mandate, blood-shot was his flaming eye, Forthwith to the inner chambers did with eager footsteps hie, Proudly sat the fair Draupadi, monarch's daughter, monarch's wife, Unto her the base Duhsasan spake the message, insult-rife: "Lotus-eyed Panchala-princess! fairly staked and won at game, Come and meet thy lord Duryodhan, chase that mantling blush of shame! Serve us as thy lords and masters, be our beauteous bright-eyed slave, Come unto the Council Chamber, wait upon the young and brave!" Proud Draupadi shakes with tremor at Duhsasan's hateful sight, And she shades her eye and forehead, and her bloodless cheeks are white, At his words her chaste heart sickens, and with wild averted eye, Unto rooms where dwelt the women, Queen Draupadi seeks to fly. Vainly sped the trembling princess in her fear and in her shame, By her streaming wavy tresses fierce Duhsasan held the dame! Sacred looks! with holy water dewed at _rajasuya_ rite, And by _mantra_ consecrated, fragrant, flowing, raven-bright, Base Duhsasan by those tresses held the faint and flying queen, Feared no more the sons of Pandu, nor their vengeance fierce and keen, Dragged her in her slipping garments by her long and trailing hair, And like sapling tempest-shaken, wept and shook the trembling fair! Stooping in her shame and anguish, pale with wrath and woman's fear, Trembling and in stifled accents, thus she spake with streaming tear: "Leave me, shameless prince Duhsasan! elders, noble lords are here, Can a modest wedded woman thus in loose attire appear?" Vain the words and soft entreaty which the weeping princess made, Vainly to the gods and mortals she in bitter anguish prayed, For with cruel words of insult still Duhsasan mocked her woo: "Loosely clad or void of clothing,--to the council hall you go, Slave-wench fairly staked and conquered, wait upon thy masters brave, Live among our household menials, serve us as our willing slave!" II Draupadi's Plaint Loose-attired, with trailing tresses, came Draupadi weak and faint, Stood within the Council Chamber, tearful made her piteous plaint: "Elders! versed in holy _sastra_, and in every holy rite, Pardon if Draupadi cometh in this sad unseemly plight, Stay thy sinful deed, Duhsasan, nameless wrongs and insults spare, Touch me not with hands uncleanly, sacred is a woman's hair, Honoured elders, righteous nobles, have on me protection given, Tremble sinner, seek no mercy from the wrathful gods in heaven! Here in glory, son of DHARMA, sits my noble righteous lord, Sin nor shame nor human frailty stains Yudhishthir's deed or word, Silent all? and will no chieftain rise to save a woman's life, Not a hand or voice is lifted to defend a virtuous wife? Lost is Kuru's righteous glory, lost is Bharat's ancient name, Lost is Kshatra's kingly prowess, warlike worth and knightly fame, Wherefore else do Kuru warriors tamely view this impious scene, Wherefore gleam not righteous weapons to protect an outraged queen? Bhishma, hath he lost his virtue, Drona, hath he lost his might, Hath the monarch of the Kurus ceased to battle for the right, Wherefore are ye mute and voiceless, councillors of mighty fame? Vacant eye and palsied right arm watch this deed of Kuru's shame!" III Insult and Vow of Revenge Spake Draupadi slender-waisted, and her words were stern and high, Anger flamed within her bosom and the tear was in her eye! And her sparkling, speaking glances fell on Pandu's sons like fire, Stirred in them a mighty passion and a thirst for vengeance dire! Lost their empire, wealth and fortune, little recked they for the fall, But Draupadi's pleading glances like a poniard smote them all! Darkly frowned the ancient Bhishma, wrathful Drona bit his tongue, Pale Vidura marked with anger insults on Draupadi flung! Fulsome word nor foul dishonour could their truthful utterance taint, And they cursed Duhsasan's action, when they heard Draupadi's plaint! But brave Karna, though a warrior,--Arjun's deadly foe was he,-- 'Gainst the humbled sons of Pandu spake his scorn thus bitterly: "'Tis no fault of thine, fair princess! fallen to this servile state, Wife and son rule not their actions, others rule their hapless fate! Thy Yudhishthir sold his birthright, sold thee at the impious play, And the wife falls with the husband, and her duty--to obey! Live thou in this Kuru household, do the Kuru princes' will, Serve them as thy lords and masters, with thy beauty please them still! Fair One! seek another husband who in foolish reckless game Will not stake a loving woman, will not cast her forth in shame! For they censure not a woman, when she is a menial slave, If her woman's fancy wanders to the young and to the brave! For thy lord is not thy husband, as a slave he hath no wife, Thou art free with truer lover to enjoy a wedded life! They whom at the _swayamvara_, chose ye, fair Panchala's bride, They have lost thee, sweet Draupadi, lost their empire and their pride!" Bhima heard, and quick and fiercely heaved his bosom in his shame, And his red glance fell on Karna like a tongue of withering flame! Bound by elder's plighted promise Bhima could not smite in ire, Looked a painted form of Anger flaming with an anguish dire! "King and elder!" uttered Bhima, and his words were few and brave, "Vain were wrath and righteous passion in the sold and bounden slave! Would that son of chariot-driver fling on us this insult keen, Hadst thou, noble king and elder, staked nor freedom nor our queen?" Sad Yudhishthir heard in anguish, bent in shame his lowly head, Proud Duryodhan laughed in triumph, and in scornful accents said: "Speak, Yudhishthir, for thy brothers own their elder's righteous sway, Speak, for truth in thee abideth, virtue ever marks thy way, Hast thou lost thy new-built empire, and thy brothers proud and brave? Hast thou lost thy fair Draupadi, is thy wedded wife our slave?" Lip nor eye did move Yudhishthir, hateful truth would not deny, Karna laughed, but saintly Bhishma wiped his old and manly eye! Madness seized the proud Duryodhan, and inflamed by passion base, Sought the prince to stain Draupadi with a deep and foul disgrace! On the proud and peerless woman cast his loving, lustful eye, Sought to hold the high-born princess as his slave upon his knee! Bhima penned his wrath no longer, lightning-like his glance he flung, And the ancient hall of Kurus with his thunder accents rung: _"May I never reach those mansions where my fathers live on high, May I never meet ancestors in the bright and happy sky,_ _If that knee, by which thou sinnest, Bhima breaks not in his ire, In the battle's red arena with his weapon, deathful, dire!"_ Red fire flamed on Bhima's forehead, sparkled from his angry eye, As from tough and gnarléd branches fast the crackling red sparks fly! IV Dhrita-rastra's Kindness Hark! within the sacred chamber, where the priests in white attire With libations morn and evening feed the sacrificial fire, And o'er sacred rights of _homa_ Brahmans chant their _mantra_ high, There is heard the jackal's wailing and the raven's ominous cry! Wise Vidura knew that omen, and the Queen Gandhari knew, Bhishma muttered "_svasti! svasti!_" at this portent strange and new, Drona and preceptor Kripa uttered too that holy word, Spake her fears the Queen Gandhari to her spouse and royal lord. Dhrita-rashtra heard and trembled with a sudden holy fear, And his feeble accents quavered, and his eyes were dimmed by tear: "Son Duryodhan, ever luckless, godless, graceless, witless child, Hast thou Drupad's virtuous daughter thus insulted and reviled, Hast thou courted death and danger, for destruction clouds our path? May an old man's soft entreaties still avert this sign of wrath!" Slow and gently to Draupadi was the sightless monarch led, And in kind and gentle accents unto her the old man said: "Noblest empress, dearest daughter, good Yudhishthir's stainless wife, Purest of the Kuru ladies, nearest to my heart and life, Pardon wrong and cruel insult and avert the wrath of Heaven, Voice thy wish and ask for blessing, be my son's misdeed forgiven!" Answered him the fair Draupadi: "Monarch of the Kuru's line, For thy grace and for thy mercy every joy on earth be thine! Since thou bid'st me name my wishes, this the boon I ask of thee, That my gracious lord Yudhishthir once again be bondage-free! I have borne a child unto him, noble boy and fair and brave, Be he prince of royal station, not the son of bounden slave! Let not light unthinking children point to him in utter scorn, Call him slave and _dasaputra_, of a slave and bondsman born!" "Virtuous daughter, have thy wishes," thus the ancient monarch cried, "Name a second boon and blessing, and it shall be gratified." "Grant me then, O gracious father! mighty Bhima, Arjun brave, And the youngest twin-born brothers,--none of them may be a slave! With their arms and with their chariots let the noble princes part, Freemen let them range the country, strong of hand and stout of heart!" "Be it so, high-destined princess!" ancient Dhrita-rashtra cried, "Name another boon and blessing, and it shall be gratified, Foremost of my queenly daughters, dearest-cherished and the best, Meeting thus thy gentle wishes now I feel my house is blest!" "Not so," answered him the princess, "other boon I may not seek, Thou art bounteous, and Draupadi should be modest, wise and meek, Twice I asked, and twice you granted, and a Kshatra asks no more, Unto Brahmans it is given, asking favours evermore! Now my lord and warlike brothers, from their hateful bondage freed, Seek their fortune by their prowess and by brave and virtuous deed!" V The Banishment Now Yudhishthir 'reft of empire, far from kinsmen, hearth and home, With his wife and faithful brothers must as houseless exiles roam. Parting blessings spake Yudhishthir, "Elder of the Kuru line, Noble grandsire stainless Bhishma, may thy glories ever shine! Drona priest and great preceptor, saintly Kripa true and brave, Kuru's monarch Dhrita-rashtra, may the gods thy empire save! Good Vidura true and faithful, may thy virtue serve thee well! Warlike sons of Dhrita-rashtra, let me bid you all farewell!" So he spake unto his kinsmen, wishing good for evil done, And in silent shame they listened, parting words they uttered none! Pained at heart was good Vidura, and he asked in sore distress: "_Arya_ Pritha, will she wander in the pathless wilderness? Royal-born, unused to hardship, weak and long unused to roam, Agéd is thy saintly mother, let fair Pritha stay at home. And by all beloved, respected, in my house shall Pritha dwell, Till your years of exile over, ye shall greet her safe and well." Answered him the sons of Pandu: "Be it even as you say, Unto us thou art a father, we thy sacred will obey, Give us then thy holy blessings, friend and father, ere we part, Blessings from the true and righteous brace the feeble, fainting heart." Spake Vidura, pious-hearted: "Best of Bharat's ancient race, Let me bless thee and thy brothers, souls of truth and righteous grace! Fortune brings no weal to mortals who may win by wicked wile, Sorrow brings no shame to mortals who are free from sin and guile! Thou art trained in laws of duty, Arjun is unmatched in war, And on Bhima in the battle kindly shines his faithful star, And the Twins excel in wisdom, born to rule a mighty State, Fair Draupadi, ever faithful, wins the smiles of fickle Fate! Each with varied gifts endowéd, each beloved of one and all, Ye shall win a spacious empire, greater, mightier, after fall. This your exile, good Yudhishthir, is ordained to serve your weal, Is a trial and _samadhi_, for it chastens but to heal! Meru taught thee righteous maxims where Himalay soars above, And in Varnavata's forest Vyasa taught thee holy love, Rama preached the laws of duty far on Bhrigu's lofty hill, Sambhu showed the 'way' where floweth Drisad-vati's limpid rill, Fell from lips of saint Asita, words of wisdom deep and grave, Bhrigu touched with fire thy bosom by the dark Kalmashi's wave, Now once more the teaching cometh, purer, brighter, oftener taught, Learn the truth from heavenly Narad, happy is thy mortal lot! Greater than the son of Ila, than the kings of earth in might, Holier than the holy _rishis_, be thou in thy virtue bright! INDRA help thee in thy battles, proud subduer of mankind, YAMA in the mightier duty, in the conquest of thy mind! Good KUVERA teach thee kindness, hungry and the poor to feed, King VARNUA quell thy passions, free thy heart from sin and greed! Like the Moon in holy lustre, like the Earth in patience deep, Like the Sun be full of radiance, strong like wind's resistless sweep! In thy sorrow, in affliction, ever deeper lessons learn, Righteous be your life in exile, happy be your safe return! May these eyes again behold thee in Hastina's ancient town, Conqueror of earthly trials, crowned with virtue's heavenly crown!" Spake Vidura to the brothers, and they felt their might increase, Bowed to him in salutation, filled with deeper, holier peace, Bowed to Bhishma and to Drona, and to chiefs and elders all, Exiles to the pathless jungle left their father's ancient hall! VI Pritha's Lament In the inner palace chambers where the royal ladies dwell, Unto Pritha, came Draupadi, came to speak her sad farewell, Monarch's daughter, monarch's consort, as an exile she must go, Pritha wept and in the chambers rose the wailing voice of woe! Heaving sobs convulsed her bosom as a silent prayer she prayed, And in accents choked by anguish thus her parting words she said: "Grieve not, child, if bitter fortune so ordains that we must part, Virtue hath her consolations for the true and loving heart! And I need not tell thee, daughter, duties of a faithful wife, Drupad's and thy husband's mansions thou hast brightened by thy life! Nobly from the sinning Kurus thou hast turned thy righteous wrath, Safely, with a mother's blessing, tread the trackless jungle path! Dangers bring no woe or sorrow to the true and faithful wife, Sinless deed and holy conduct ever guard her charméd life! Nurse thy lord with woman's kindness, and his brothers, where ye go, Young in years in Sahadeva, gentle and unused to woe!" "Thy fond blessings help me, mother," so the fair Draupadi said, "Safe in righteous truth and virtue, forest paths we fearless tread!" Wet her eyes and loose her tresses, fair Draupadi bowed and left, Ancient Pritha weeping followed of all earthly joy bereft, As she went, her duteous children now before their mother came, Clad in garments of the deer-skin, and their heads were bent in shame! Sorrow welling in her bosom choked her voice and filled her eye, Till in broken stifled accents faintly thus did Pritha cry: "Ever true to path of duty, noble children void of stain, True to gods, to mortals faithful, why this unmerited pain, Wherefore hath untimely sorrow like a darksome cloud above, Cast its pale and deathful shadow on the children of my love? Woe to me, your wretched mother, woe to her who gave you birth, Stainless sons, for sins of Pritha have ye suffered on this earth! Shall ye range the pathless forest dreary day and darksome night, Reft of all save native virtue, clad in native, inborn might? Woe to me, from rocky mountains where I dwelt by Pandu's side, When I lost him, to Hastina wherefore came I in my pride? Happy is your sainted father; dwells in regions of the sky, Sees nor feels these earthly sorrows gathering on us thick and high! Happy too is faithful Madri; for she trod the virtuous way, Followed Pandu to the bright sky, and is now his joy and stay! Ye alone are left to Pritha, dear unto her joyless heart, Mother's hope and widow's treasure, and ye may not, shall not part! Leave me not alone on wide earth, loving sons, your virtues prove, Dear Draupadi, loving daughter, let a mother's tear-drops move! Grant me mercy, kind Creator, and my days in mercy close, End my sorrows, kind VIDHATA, end my life with all my woes! Help me, pious-hearted Krishna, friend of friendless, wipe my pain, All who suffer pray unto thee and they never pray in vain! Help me, Bhishma, warlike Drona, Kripa ever good and wise, Ye are friends of truth and virtue, righteous truth ye ever prize! Help me from thy starry mansions, husband, wherefore dost thou wait, Seest thou not thy godlike children exiled by a bitter fate! Part not, leave me not, my children, seek ye not the trackless way, Stay but one, if one child only, as your mother's hope and stay! Youngest, gentlest Sahadeva, dearest to this widowed heart, Wilt thou watch beside thy mother, while thy cruel brothers part?" Whispering words of consolation, Pritha's children wiped her eye, Then unto the pathless jungle turned their steps with bitter sigh! Kuru dames with fainting Pritha to Vidura's palace hie, Kuru queens for weeping Pritha raise their voice in answering cry, Kuru maids for fair Draupadi fortune's fitful will upbraid, And their tear-dewed lotus-faces with their streaming fingers shade! Dhrita-rashtra, ancient monarch, is by sad misgivings pained, Questions oft with anxious bosom what the cruel fates ordained. BOOK V PATIVRATA-MAHATMYA (Woman's Love) True to their word the sons of Pandu went with Draupadi into exile, and passed twelve years in the wilderness; and many were the incidents which checkered their forest life. Krishna, who had stood by Yudhishthir in his prosperity, now came to visit him in his adversity; he consoled Draupadi in her distress, and gave good advice to the brothers. Draupadi with a woman's pride and anger still thought of her wrongs and insults, and urged Yudhishthir to disregard the conditions of exile and recover his kingdom. Bhima too was of the same mind, but Yudhishthir would not be moved from his plighted word. The great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun, great archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and worship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise of a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his blessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S heaven and obtained other celestial arms. In the meanwhile Duryodhan, not content with sending his cousins to exile, wished to humiliate them still more by appearing before them in all his regal power and splendour. Matters how ever turned out differently from what he expected, and he became involved in a quarrel with some _gandharvas_, a class of aerial beings. Duryodhan was taken captive by them, and it was the Pandav brothers who released him from his captivity, and allowed him to return to his kingdom in peace. This act of generosity rankled in his bosom and deepened his hatred. Jayadratha, king of the Sindhu or Indus country, and a friend and ally of Duryodhan, came to the woods, and in the absence of the Pandav brothers carried off Draupadi. The Pandavs however pursued the king, chastised him for his misconduct, and rescued Draupadi. Still more interesting than these various incidents are the tales and legends with which this book is replete. Great saints came to see Yudhishthir in his exile, and narrated to him legends of ancient times and of former kings. One of these beautiful episodes, the tale of Nala and Damayanti, has been translated into graceful English verse by Dean Milman, and is known to many English readers. The legend of Agastya who drained the ocean dry; of Parasu-Rama a Brahman who killed the Kshatriyas of the earth; of Bhagiratha who brought down the Ganges from the skies to the earth; of Manu and the universal deluge; of Vishnu and various other gods; of Rama and his deeds which form the subject of the Epic _Ramayana_;--these and various other legends have been inter woven in the account of the forest-life of the Pandavs, and make it a veritable storehouse of ancient Hindu tales and traditions. Among these various legends and tales I have selected one which is singular and striking. The great truth proclaimed under the thin guise of an eastern allegory is that a True Woman's Love is not conquered by Death. The story is known by Hindu women high and low, rich and poor, in all parts of India; and on a certain night in the year millions of Hindu women celebrate a rite in honour of the woman whose love was not conquered by death. Legends like these, though they take away from the unity and conciseness of the Epic, impart a moral instruction to the millions of India the value of which cannot be overestimated. The portion translated in this Book forms Sections ccxcii. And ccxciii., a part of Section ccxciv. and Sections ccxcv. and ccxcvi. of Book iii. of the original text. I Forest Life In the dark and pathless forest long the Pandav brothers strayed, In the bosom of the jungle with the fair Draupadi stayed, And they killed the forest red-deer, hewed the gnarléd forest wood, From the stream she fetched the water, cooked the humble daily food, In the morn she swept the cottage, lit the cheerful fire at eve, But at night in lonesome silence oft her woman's heart would grieve, Insults rankled in her bosom and her tresses were unbound,-- So she vowed,--till fitting vengeance had the base insulters found! Oft when evening's shades descended, mantling o'er the wood and lea, When Draupadi by the cottage cooked the food beneath the tree, _Rishis_ came to good Yudhishthir, sat beside his evening fires, Many olden tales recited, legends of our ancient sires. Markandeya, holy _rishi_, once unto Yudhishthir came, When his heart was sorrow-laden with the memories of his shame, "Pardon, rishi!" said Yudhishthir, "if unbidden tears will start, But the woes of fair Draupadi grieve a banished husband's heart, By her tears the saintly woman broke my bondage worse than death, By my sins she suffers exile and misfortune's freezing breath! Dost thou, sage and saintly _rishi_, know of wife or woman born, By such nameless sorrow smitten, by such strange misfortune torn? Hast thou in thy ancient legends heard of true and faithful wife, With a stronger wife's affection, with a sadder woman's life?" "Listen, monarch!" said the _rishi_, "to a tale of ancient date, How Savitri loved and suffered, how she strove and conquered Fate!" II The Tale of Savitri In the country of the Madras lived a king in days of old, Faithful to the holy BRAHMA, pure in heart and righteous-souled, He was loved in town and country, in the court and hermit's den, Sacrificer to the bright gods, helper to his brother men, But the monarch, Aswapati, son or daughter had he none, Old in years and sunk in anguish, and his days were almost done! Vows he took and holy penance, and with pious rules conformed, Spare in diet as _brahmachari_ many sacred rites performed, Sang the sacred hymn, _savitri_, to the gods oblations gave, Through the lifelong day he fasted, uncomplaining, meek and brave! Year by year he gathered virtue, rose in merit and in might, Till the goddess of _savitri_ smiled upon his sacred rite, From the fire upon the altar, which a holy radiance flung, In the form of beauteous maiden, goddess of _savitri_ sprung! And she spake in gentle accents, blessed the monarch good and brave, Blessed his rites and holy penance and a boon unto him gave: "Penance and thy sacrifices can the powers immortal move, And the pureness of thy conduct doth thy heart's affection prove, Ask thy boon, king Aswapati, from creation's Ancient Sire, True to virtue's sacred mandate speak thy inmost heart's desire." "For an offspring brave and kingly," so the saintly king replied, "Holy rites and sacrifices and this penance I have tried, If these rites and sacrifices move thy favour and thy grace, Grant me offspring, Prayer-Maiden, worthy of my noble race!" "Have thy object," spake the maiden, "Madra's pious-hearted king, From SWAYMBHU, Self-created, blessings unto thee I bring! For HE lists to mortal's prayer springing from a heart like thine, And HE wills,--a noble daughter grace thy famed and royal line! Aswapati, glad and grateful, take the blessing which I bring, Part in joy and part in silence, bow unto Creation's King!" Vanished then the Prayer-Maiden, and the king of noble fame, Aswapati, Lord of coursers, to his royal city came, Days of hope and nights of gladness Madra's happy monarch passed, Till his queen of noble offspring gladsome promise gave at last! As the moon each night increaseth, chasing darksome nightly gloom, Grew the unborn babe in splendour in its happy mother's womb, And in fulness of the season came a girl with lotus-eye, Father's hope and joy of mother, gift of kindly gods on high! And the king performed its birth-rites with a glad and grateful mind, And the people blessed the dear one with their wishes good and kind, As _Savitri_, Prayer-Maiden, had the beauteous offspring given, Brahmans named the child _Savitri_, holy gift of bounteous Heaven! Grew the child in brighter beauty like a goddess from above, And each passing season added fresher sweetness, deeper love, Came with youth its lovelier graces, as the buds their leaves unfold, Slender waist and rounded bosom, image as of burnished gold, _Deva-Kanya!_ born a goddess, so they said in all the land, Princely suitors struck with splendour ventured not to seek her hand! Once upon a time it happened on a bright and festive day, Fresh from bath the beauteous maiden to the altar came to pray, And with cakes and pure libations duly fed the Sacred Flame, Then like SRI in heavenly radiance to her royal father came, Bowed unto his feet in silence, sacred flowers beside him laid, And her hands she folded meekly, sweetly her obeisance made, With a father's pride, upon her gazed the ruler of the land, But a strain of sadness lingered, for no suitor claimed her hand. "Daughter," whispered Aswapati, "now, methinks, the time is come, Thou shouldst choose a princely suitor, grace a royal husband's home, Choose thyself a noble husband worthy of thy noble hand, Choose a true and upright monarch, pride and glory of his land, As thou choosest, gentle daughter, in thy loving heart's desire, Blessing and his free permission will bestow thy happy sire! For our sacred _sastras_ sanction, holy Brahmans oft relate, That the duty-loving father sees his girl in wedded state, That the duty-loving husband watches o'er his consort's ways, That the duty-loving offspring tends his mother's widowed days, Therefore choose a loving husband, daughter of my house and love, So thy father earn no censure or from men or gods above!" Fair Savitri bowed unto him, and for parting blessings prayed, Then she left her father's palace, and in distant regions strayed, With her guard and aged courtiers whom her watchful father sent, Mounted on her golden chariot unto sylvan woodlands went. Then in pleasant woods and jungle wandered she from day to day, Unto _asrams_, hermitages, pious-hearted held her way, Oft she stayed in holy _tirthas_ washed by sacred limpid streams, Food she gave unto the hungry, wealth beyond their fondest dreams! Many days and months are over, and it once did so befall, When the king and _rishi_ Narad sat within the royal hall, From her journeys near and distant and from places known to fame, Fair Savitri with the courtiers to her father's palace came, Came and saw her royal father, _rishi_ Narad by his seat, Bent her head in salutation, bowed unto their holy feet. III The Fated Bridegroom "Whence comes she," so Narad questioned, "whither was Savitri led, Wherefore to a happy husband hath Savitri not been wed?" "Nay! to choose her lord and husband," so the virtuous monarch said, "Fair Savitri long hath wandered and in holy _tirthas_ stayed, Maiden! speak unto the _rishi_, and thy choice and secret tell!" Then a blush suffused her forehead, soft and slow her accents fell! "Listen, father! Salwa's monarch was of old a king of might, Righteous-hearted Dyumat-sena, feeble now and void of sight, Foemen robbed him of his kingdom when in age he lost his sight, And from town and spacious empire was the monarch forced to flight, With his queen and with his infant did the feeble monarch stray, And the jungle was his palace, darksome was his weary way. Holy vows assumed the monarch and in penance passed his life, In the wild woods nursed his infant and with wild fruits fed his wife, Years have gone in rigid penance, and that child is now a youth, Him I choose my lord and husband, Satyavan, Soul of Truth!" Thoughtful was the _rishi_ Narad, doleful were the words he said: "Sad disaster waits Savitri if this royal youth she wed! Truth-beloving is his father, truthful is the royal dame, Truth and virtue rule his actions, Satyavan is his name, Steeds he loved in days of boyhood and to paint them was his joy, Hence they called him young Chitraswa, art-beloving gallant boy! But O pious-hearted monarch! fair Savitri hath in sooth Courted Fate and sad disaster in that noble gallant youth!" "Tell me," questioned Aswapati, "for I may not guess thy thought, Wherefore is my daughter's action with a sad disaster fraught? Is the youth of noble lustre, gifted in the gifts of art, Blest with wisdom, prowess, patience daring, dauntless in his heart?" "SURYA'S lustre in him shineth," so the _rishi_ Narad said, "BRIHASPATI'S wisdom dwelleth in the young Satyavan's head, Like MAHENDRA in his prowess, and in patience like the Earth, Yet O king! a sad disaster marks the gentle youth from birth!" "Tell me, _rishi_, then thy reason," so the anxious monarch cried, "Why to youth so great and gifted may this maid be not allied? Is Satyavan free in bounty, gentle-hearted, full of grace, Duly versed in sacred knowledge, fair in mind and fair in face?" "Free in gifts like Rantideva," so the holy _rishi_ said, "Versed in lore like monarch Sivi, who all ancient monarchs led, Like Yayati open-hearted and like CHANDRA in his grace, Like the handsome heavenly ASVINS fair and radiant in his face, Meek and graced with patient virtue he controls his noble mind, Modest in his kindly actions, true to friends and ever kind, And the hermits of the forest praise him for his righteous truth, Nathless, king, thy daughter may not wed this noble-hearted youth!" "Tell me, _rishi_," said the monarch, "for thy sense from me is hid, Has this prince some fatal blemish, wherefore is this match forbid?" "Fatal fault!" exclaimed the _rishi_, "fault that wipeth all his grace, Fault, that human power nor effort, rite nor penance can efface! Fatal fault or destined sorrow! for it is decreed on high, On this day, a twelve-month later, this ill-fated prince will die!" Shook the startled king in terror, and in fear and trembling cried: "Unto short-lived, fated bridegroom ne'er my child shall be allied! Come, Savitri, dear-loved maiden! choose another happier lord, _Rishi_ Narad speaketh wisdom, list unto his holy word! Every grace and every virtue is effaced by cruel Fate, On this day, a twelve-month later, leaves the prince his mortal state!" "Father!" answered thus the maiden, soft and sad her accents fell, "I have heard thy honoured mandate, holy Narad counsels well, _Pardon witless maiden's feelings! but beneath the eye of Heaven, Only once a maiden chooseth, twice her troth may not be given!_ _Long his life or be it narrow, and his virtues great or none, Brave Satyavan is my husband, he my heart and troth hath won!_ _What a maiden's heart hath chosen that a maiden's lips confess, True to him, thy poor Savitri goes into the wilderness!"_ "Monarch!" uttered then the _rishi_, "fixed is she in mind and heart, From her troth the true Savitri never, never will depart! More than mortal's share of virtue unto Satyavan is given, Let the true maid wed her chosen, leave the rest to gracious Heaven!" "_Rishi_ and preceptor holy!" so the weeping monarch prayed, "Heaven avert all future evils, and thy mandate is obeyed!" Narad wished him joy and gladness, blessed the loving youth and maid, Forest hermits on their wedding every fervent blessing laid. IV Overtaken by Fate Twelve-month in the darksome forest by her true and chosen lord, Lived Savitri, served his parents by her thought and deed and word, Bark of tree supplied her garments draped upon her bosom fair, Or the red cloth as in _asrams_ holy women love to wear, And the aged queen she tended with a fond and filial pride, Served the old and sightless monarch like a daughter by his side, And with love and gentle sweetness pleased her husband and her lord, But in secret, night and morning, pondered still on Narad's word! Nearer came the fatal morning by the holy Narad told, Fair Savitri reckoned daily and her heart was still and cold, Three short days remaining only! and she took a vow severe Of _triratra_, three nights' penance, holy fasts and vigils drear! Of Savitri's rigid penance heard the king with anxious woe, Spake to her in loving accents, so the vow she might forgo: "Hard the penance, gentle daughter, and thy woman's limbs are frail, After three nights' fasts and vigils sure thy tender health may fail!" "Be not anxious, loving father," meekly thus Savitri prayed, "Penance I have undertaken, will unto the gods be made." Much misdoubting then the monarch gave his sad and slow assent, Pale with fast and unseen tear-drops, lonesome nights Savitri spent. Nearer came the fatal morning, and to-morrow he shall die, Dark, dark hours of nightly silence! Tearless, sleepless is her eye! "Dawns that dread and fated morning!" said Savitri, bloodless, brave, Prayed her fervent prayers in silence, to the Fire oblations gave, Bowed unto the forest Brahmans, to the parents kind and good, Joined her hands in salutation and in reverent silence stood. With the usual morning blessing, "_Widow may'st thou never be_," Anchorites and agéd Brahmans blessed Savitri fervently, O! that blessing fell upon her like the rain on thirsty air, Struggling hope inspired her bosom as she drank those accents fair! But returned the dark remembrance of the _rishi_ Narad's word, Pale she watched the creeping sunbeams, mused upon her fated lord! "Daughter, now thy fast is over," so the loving parents said, "Take thy diet after penance, for thy morning prayers are prayed," "Pardon, father," said Savitri, "let this other day be done," Unshed tear-drops filled her eyelids, glistened in the morning sun! Young Satyavan, tall and stately, ponderous axe on shoulder hung, For the distant darksome jungle issued forth serene and strong, But unto him came Savitri and in sweetest accents prayed, As upon his manly bosom gently she her forehead laid: "Long I wished to see the jungle where steals not the solar ray, Take me to the darksome forest, husband, let me go to-day!" "Come not, love," he sweetly answered with a loving husband's care, "Thou art all unused to labour, forest paths thou may'st not dare, And with recent fasts and vigils pale and bloodless is thy face, And thy steps are weak and feeble, jungle paths thou may'st not trace." "Fasts and vigils make me stronger," said the wife with wifely pride, "Toil I shall not feel nor languor when my lord is by my side, For I feel a woman's longing with my lord to trace the way, Grant me, husband ever gracious, with thee let me go to-day!" Answered then the loving husband, as his hands in hers he wove, "Ask permission from my parents in the trackless woods to rove." Then Savitri to the monarch urged her longing strange request, After duteous salutation thus her humble prayer addrest: "To the jungle goes my husband, fuel and the fruit to seek, I would follow if my mother and my loving father speak, Twelve-month from this narrow _asram_ hath Savitri stepped nor strayed, In this cottage true and faithful ever hath Savitri stayed, For the sacrificial fuel wends my lord his lonesome way, Please my kind and loving parents, I would follow him to-day." "Never since her wedding morning," so the loving king replied, "Wish or thought Savitri whispered, for a boon or object sighed, Daughter, thy request is granted, safely in the forest roam, Safely with thy lord and husband, seek again thy cottage home." Bowing to her loving parents did the fair Savitri part, Smile upon her pallid features, anguish in her inmost heart! Round her sylvan green woods blossomed 'neath a cloudless Indian sky, Flocks of pea-fowls gorgeous plumaged flew before her wondering eye, Woodland rills and crystal nullahs gently roll'd o'er rocky bed, Flower-decked hills in dewy brightness towering glittered overhead, Birds of song and beauteous feather trilled a note in every grove, Sweeter accents fell upon her, from her husband's lips of love! Still with thoughtful eye Savitri watched her dear and fated lord, Flail of grief was in her bosom but her pale lips shaped no word, And she listened to her husband, still on anxious thought intent, Cleft in two her throbbing bosom, as in silence still she went! Gaily with the gathered wild-fruits did the prince his basket fill, Hewed the interlacéd branches with his might and practised skill, Till the drops stood on his forehead, weary was his aching head, Faint he came unto Savitri and in faltering accents said: "Cruel ache is on my forehead, fond and ever faithful wife, And I feel a hundred needles pierce me and torment my life, And my feeble footsteps falter, and my senses seem to reel, Fain would I beside thee linger, for a sleep doth o'er me steal." With a wild and speechless terror pale Savitri held her lord, On her lap his head she rested as she laid him on the sward, Narad's fatal words remembered as she watched her husband's head, Burning lip and pallid forehead, and the dark and creeping shade, Clasped him in her beating bosom, kissed his lips with panting breath, Darker grew the lonesome forest, and he slept the sleep of death! V Triumph over Fate In the bosom of the shadows rose a Vision dark and dread, Shape of gloom in inky garment, and a crown was on his head! Gleaming form of sable splendour, blood-red was his sparkling eye, And a fatal noose he carried, grim and godlike, dark and high! And he stood in solemn silence, looked in silence on the dead, And Savitri on the greensward gently placed her husband's head, And a tremor shook Savitri, but a woman's love is strong, With her hands upon her bosom thus she spake with quivering tongue: "More than mortal is thy glory, and a radiant god thou be, Tell me what bright name thou bearest, and thy message unto me." "Know me," thus responded YAMA, "mighty monarch of the dead, Mortals leaving earthly mansion to my darksome realms are led, Since with woman's full affection thou hast loved thy husband dear, Hence before thee, faithful woman, YAMA doth in form appear, But his days and loves are ended, and he leaves his faithful wife, In this noose I bind and carry spark of his immortal life, Virtue graced his life and action, spotless was his princely heart, Hence for him I came in person, princess, let thy husband part." YAMA from Satyavan's body, pale and bloodless, cold and dumb, Drew the vital spark, _purusha_, smaller than the human thumb, In his noose the spark he fastened, silent went his darksome way, Left the body shorn of lustre to its rigid cold decay. Southward went the dark-hued YAMA with the youth's immortal life, And, for woman's love abideth, followed still the faithful wife. "Turn, Savitri," outspake YAMA, "for thy husband loved and lost, Do the rites due unto mortals by their Fate predestined crost, For thy wifely duty ceases, follow not in fruitless woe, And no farther living creature may with monarch YAMA go!" "But I may not choose but follow where thou takest my husband's life, For Eternal Law divides not loving man and faithful wife! For my love and my affection, for a woman's sacred woe, Grant me in thy godlike mercy farther still with him I go! Fourfold are our human duties: first, to study holy lore; Then to live as good householders, feed the hungry at our door; Then to pass our days in penance; last to fix our thoughts above; But the final goal of virtue, it is Truth and deathless Love!" "True and holy are thy precepts," listening YAMA made reply, "And they fill my heart with gladness and with pious purpose high, I would bless thee, fair Savitri, but the dead come not to life, Ask for other boon and blessing, faithful, true and virtuous wife!" "Since you so permit me, YAMA," so the good Savitri said, "For my husband's banished father let my dearest suit be made, Sightless in the darksome forest dwells the monarch faint and weak, Grant him sight and grant him vigour, YAMA, in thy mercy speak!" "Duteous daughter," YAMA answered, "be thy pious wishes given, And his eyes shall be restoréd to the cheerful light of heaven, Turn, Savitri, faint and weary, follow not in fruitless woe, And no farther living creature may with monarch YAMA go!" "Faint nor weary is Savitri," so the noble princess said, "Since she waits upon her husband, gracious Monarch of the dead, What befalls the wedded husband still befalls the faithful wife, Where he leads she ever follows, be it death or be it life! And our sacred writ ordaineth and our pious _rishis_ sing, Transient meeting with the holy doth its countless blessings bring, Longer friendship with the holy purifies the mortal birth, Lasting union with the holy is the bright sky on the earth! Union with the pure and holy is immortal heavenly life, For Eternal Law divides not loving man and faithful wife!" "Blesséd are thy words," said YAMA, "blesséd is thy pious thought, With a higher purer wisdom are thy holy lessons fraught, I would bless thee, fair Savitri, but the dead come not to life, Ask for other boon and blessing, faithful, true and virtuous wife!" "Since you so permit me, YAMA," so the good Savitri said, "Once more for my husband's father be my supplication made, Lost his kingdom, in the forest dwells the monarch faint and weak, Grant him back his wealth and kingdom, YAMA, in thy mercy speak!" "Loving daughter!" YAMA answered, "wealth and kingdom I bestow, Turn, Savitri, living mortal may not with King YAMA go!" Still Savitri, meek and faithful, followed her departed lord, YAMA still with higher wisdom listened to her saintly word, And the Sable King was vanquished, and he turned on her again, And his words fell on Savitri like the cooling summer rain, "Noble woman, speak thy wishes, name thy boon and purpose high, What the pious mortal asketh gods in heaven may not deny!" "Thou hast," so Savitri answered, "granted father's realm and might, To his vain and sightless eyeballs hast restored their blesséd sight, Grant him that the line of monarchs may not all untimely end, That his kingdom to Satyavan's and Savitri's sons descend!" "Have thy object," answered YAMA, "and thy lord shall live again, He shall live to be a father, and your children too shall reign, For a woman's troth abideth longer than the fleeting breath, And a woman's love abideth higher than the doom of Death!" VI Return Home Vanished then the Sable Monarch, and Savitri held her way Where in dense and darksome forest still her husband lifeless lay, And she sat upon the greensward by the cold unconscious dead, On her lap with deeper kindness placed her consort's lifeless head, And that touch of true affection thrilled him back to waking life, As returned from distant regions gazed the prince upon his wife! "Have I lain too long and slumbered, sweet Savitri, faithful spouse? But I dreamt a Sable Person, in a noose took forth my life!" "Pillowed on this lap," she answered, "long upon the earth you lay, And the Sable Person, husband, he hath come and passed away, Rise and leave this darksome forest if thou feelest light and strong, For the night is on the jungle and our way is dark and long." Rising as from happy slumber looked the young prince on all around, Saw the wide-extending jungle mantling all the darksome ground, "Yes," he said, "I now remember, ever loving faithful dame, We in search of fruit and fuel to this lonesome forest came, As I hewed the gnarléd branches, cruel anguish filled my brain, And I laid me on the greensward with a throbbing piercing pain, Pillowed on thy gentle bosom, solaced by thy gentle love, I was soothed, and drowsy slumber fell on me from skies above. All was dark and then I witnessed, was it but a fleeting dream, God or Vision, dark and dreadful, in the deepening shadows gleam! Was this dream my fair Savitri, dost thou of this Vision know? Tell me, for before my eyesight still the Vision seems to glow!" "Darkness thickens," said Savitri, "and the evening waxeth late, When the morrow's light returneth I shall all these scenes narrate, Now arise, for darkness gathers, deeper grows the gloomy night, And thy loving anxious parents trembling wait thy welcome sight, Hark the rangers of the forest! how their voices strike the ear! Prowlers of the darksome jungle! how they fill my breast with fear! Forest-fire is raging yonder, for I see a distant gleam, And the rising evening breezes help the red and radiant beam, Let me fetch a burning faggot and prepare a friendly light, With these fallen withered branches chase the shadows of the night, And if feeble still thy footsteps,--long and weary is our way,-- By the fire repose, my husband, and return by light of day." "For my parents, fondly anxious," Satyavan thus made reply, "Pains my heart and yearns my bosom, let us to their cottage hie, When I tarried in the jungle or by day or dewy eve, Searching in the hermitages often did my parents grieve, And with father's soft reproaches and with mother's loving fears, Chid me for my tardy footsteps, dewed me with their gentle tears! Think then of my father's sorrow, of my mother's woeful plight, If afar in wood and jungle pass we now the livelong night, Wife beloved, I may not fathom what mishap or load of care, Unknown dangers, unseen sorrows, even now my parents share!" Gentle drops of filial sorrow trickled down his manly eye, Pond Savitri sweetly speaking softly wiped the tear-drops dry: "Trust me, husband, if Savitri hath been faithful in her love, If she hath with pious offerings served the righteous gods above, If she hath a sister's kindness unto brother men performed, If she hath in speech and action unto holy truth conformed, Unknown blessings, mighty gladness, trust thy ever faithful wife, And not sorrows or disasters wait this eve our parents' life!" Then she rose and tied her tresses, gently helped her lord to rise, Walked with him the pathless jungle, looked with love into his eyes, On her neck his clasping left arm sweetly winds in soft embrace, Round his waist Savitri's right arm doth sweetly interlace, Thus they walked the darksome jungle, silent stars looked from above, And the hushed and throbbing midnight watched Savitri's deathless love. BOOK VI GO-HARANA (Cattle-Lifting) The conditions of the banishment of the sons of Pandu were hard. They must pass twelve years in exile, and then they must remain a year in concealment. If they were discovered within this last year, they must go into exile for another twelve years. Having passed the twelve years of exile in forests, the Pandav brothers disguised themselves and entered into the menial service of Virata, king of the Matsyas, to pass the year of concealment. Yudhishthir presented himself as a Brahman, skilled in dice, and became a courtier of the king. Bhima entered the king's service as cook. For Arjun, who was so well known, a stricter concealment was necessary. He wore conch bangles and earrings and braided his hair, like those unfortunate beings whom nature has debarred from the privileges of men and women, and he lived in the inner apartments of the king. He assumed the name of _Brihannala_, and taught the inmates of the royal household in music and dancing. Nakula became a keeper of the king's horses, and Sahadeva took charge of the king's cows. Draupadi too disguised herself as a waiting-woman, and served the princess of the Matsya house in that humble capacity. In these disguises the Pandav brothers safely passed a year in concealment in spite of all search which Duryodhan made after them. At last an incident happened which led to their discovery when the year was out. Cattle-lifting was a common practice with the kings of ancient India, as with the chiefs of ancient Greece. The king of the Trigartas and the king of the Kurus combined and fell on the king of the Matsyas in order to drive off the numerous herd of fine cattle for which his kingdom was famed. The Trigartas entered the Matsya kingdom from the south-east, and while Virata went out with his troops to meet the foe, Duryodhan with his Kuru forces fell on the kingdom from the north. When news came that the Kurus had invaded the kingdom, there was no army in the capital to defend it. King Virata had gone out with most of his troops to face the Trigartas in the south-east, and the prince Uttara had no inclination to face the Kurus in the north. The disguised Arjun now came to the rescue in the manner described in this Book. The description of the bows, arrows, and swords of the Pandav brothers which they had concealed in a tree, wrapped like human corpses to frighten away inquisitive travellers, throws some light on the arts and manufacture of ancient times. The portions translated in this Book form Sections xxxv., xxxvi., xl. to xliii., a portion of Section xliv., and Sections liii. and lxxii. of Book iv. of the original text. I Complaint of the Cowherd Monarch of the mighty Matsyas, brave Virata known to fame, Marched against Trigarta chieftains who from southward regions came, From the north the proud Duryodhan, stealing onwards day by day, Swooped on Matsya's fattened cattle like the hawk upon its prey! Bhishma, Drona, peerless Karna, led the Kuru warriors brave, Swept the kingdom of Virata like the ocean's surging wave, Fell upon the trembling cowherds, chased them from the pasture-field, Sixty thousand head of cattle was the Matsya country's yield! And the wailing chief of cowherds fled forlorn, fatigued and spent, Speeding on his rapid chariot to the royal city went, Came inside the city portals, came within the palace gate, Struck his forehead in his anguish and bewailed his luckless fate. Meeting there the prince Uttara, youth of beauty and of fame, Told him of the Kurus' outrage and lamented Matsya's shame: "Sixty thousand head of cattle, bred of Matsya's finest breed, To Hastina's distant empire do the Kuru chieftains lead! Glory of the Matsya nation! save thy father's valued kine, Quick thy footsteps, strong thy valour, vengeance deep and dire be thine! 'Gainst the fierce Trigarta chieftains Matsya's warlike king is gone, Thee we count our lord and saviour as our monarch's gallant son! Rise, Uttara! beat the Kurus, homeward lead the stolen kine, Like an elephant of jungle, pierce the Kurus' shattered line! As the _Vina_ speaketh music, by musicians tuned aright, Let thy sounding bow and arrows speak thy deeds of matchless might! Harness quick thy milk-white coursers to thy sounding battle-car, Hoist thy golden lion-banner, speed thee, prince, unto the war! And as thunder-wielding INDRA smote _asuras_ fierce and bold, Smite the Kurus with thy arrows winged with plumes of yellow gold! As the famed and warlike Arjun is the stay of Kuru's race, Thou art refuge of the Matsyas and thy kingdom's pride and grace!" But the prince went not to battle from the foe to guard the State, To the cowherd answered gaily, sheltered by the palace gate: "Not unknown to me the usage of the bow and wingéd dart, Not unknown the warrior's duty or the warrior's noble art, I would win my father's cattle from the wily foeman's greed, If a skilful chariot-driver could my fiery coursers lead, For my ancient chariot-driver died on battle's gory plain, Eight and twenty days we wrestled, many warlike chiefs were slain! Bring me forth a skilful driver who can urge the battle-steed, I will hoist my lion-banner, to the dubious battle speed! Dashing through the foeman's horses, ranks of elephant and car, I will win the stolen cattle rescued in the field of war! And like thunder-wielding INDRA, smiting Danu's sons of old, I will smite the Kuru chieftains, drive them to their distant hold! Bhishma and the proud Duryodhan, archer Karna known to fame, Drona too shall quail before me and retreat in bitter shame! Do those warriors in my absence Matsya's far-famed cattle steal? But beneath my countless arrows Matsya's vengeance they shall feel! Bring me forth a chariot-driver, let me speed my battle-car, And in wonder they will question--Is this Arjun famed in war?" II The Disguised Charioteer Arjun, guised as Brihannala, heard the boast Uttara made, And to try his skill and valour, thus to fair Draupadi prayed: "Say to him that Brihannala will his battle-chariot lead, That as Arjun's chariot-driver he hath learned to urge the steed, Say that faithful Brihannala many a dubious war hath seen, And will win his father's cattle in this contest fierce and keen." Fair Draupadi, guised as menial, Arjun's secret hest obeyed, Humbly stepped before Uttara and in gentle accents prayed: "Hear me, prince! yon Brihannala will thy battle-chariot lead, He was Arjun's chariot-driver, skilled to urge the flying steed, Trained in war by mighty Arjun, trained to drive the battle-car, He hath followed helméd Arjun in the glorious field of war, And when Arjun conquered Khandav, this, Uttara, I have seen, Brihannala drove his chariot, for I served Yudhishthir's queen." Heard Uttara hesitating, spake his faint and timid mind, "I would trust thee, beauteous maiden, lotus-bosomed, ever kind, But a poor and sexless creature, can he rein the warlike steed? Can I ask him, worse than woman, in the battle's ranks to lead?" "Need is none," Draupadi answered, "Brihannala's grace to ask, He is eager like the war-horse for this great and warlike task! And he waits upon thy sister, she will bid the minion speed, And he wins thy father's cattle, and the victor's glorious meed!" Matsya's princess spake to Arjun, Arjun led the battle-car, Led the doubting prince Uttara to the dread and dubious war! III Arms and Weapons Arjun drove the prince of Matsya to a darksome _sami_ tree, Spake unto the timid warrior in his accents bold and free: "Prince, thy bow and shining arrows, pretty handsome toys are these, Scarcely they beseem a warrior, and a warrior cannot please! Thou shalt find upon this _sami_, mark my words which never fail, Stately bows and wingéd arrows, banners, swords and coats of mail! And a bow which strongest warriors scarce can in the battle bend, And the limits of a kingdom widen when that bow is strained! Tall and slender like a palm-tree, worthy of a warrior bold, Smooth the wood of hardened fibre, and the ends are yellow gold!" Doubting still Uttara answered: "In this _sami's_ gloomy shade Corpses hang since many seasons, in their wrappings duly laid, Now I mark them all suspended, horrent, in the open air, And to touch the unclean objects, friend, is more than I can dare!" "Fear not warrior," Arjun answered, "for the tree conceals no dead, Warriors' weapons, cased like corpses, lurk within its gloomy shade, And I ask thee, prince of Matsya, not to touch an unclean thing, But unto a chief and warrior weapons and his arms to bring!" Prince Uttara gently lighted, climbed the dark and leafy tree, Arjun from the prince's chariot bade him speed the arms to free, Then the young prince cut the wrappings and the shining bows appear Twisted, voiced like hissing serpents, like the bright stars glistening clear! Seized with wonder prince Uttara silently the weapons eyed, And unto his chariot-driver thus in trembling accents cried: "Whose this bow so tall and stately, speak to me my gentle friend, On the wood are golden bosses, tipped with gold at either end? Whose this second ponderous weapon stout and massive in the hold, On the staff are worked by artists elephants of burnished gold? Sure some great and mighty monarch owns this other bow of might, Set with golden glittering insects on its ebon back so bright? Golden suns of wondrous brightness on this fourth their lustre lend, Who may be the unknown archer who this stately bow can bend? And the fifth is set with jewels, gems and stones of purest ray, Golden fire-flies glint and sparkle in the yellow light of day! Who doth own these shining arrows with their heads in gold encased, Thousand arrows bright and feathered, in the golden quivers placed? Next are these with vulture-feather, golden-yellow in their hue, Made of iron, keen and whetted, whose may be these arrows true? Next upon this sable quiver jungle tigers worked in gold, And these keen and boar-eared arrows speak some chieftains fierce and bold! Fourth are these seven hundred arrows, crescent is their shining blade, Thirsting for the blood of foemen, and by cunning artists made! And the fifth are golden-crested, made of tempered steel and bright, Parrot feathers wing these arrows, whetted and of wondrous might! Who doth own this wondrous sabre, shape of toad is on the hilt, On the blade a toad is graven, and the scabbard nobly gilt? Larger, stouter is this second in its sheath of tiger-skin, Decked with bells and gold-surmounted, and the blade is bright and keen! Next this scimitar so curious by the skilled _nishadas_ made, Scabbard made of wondrous cowhide sheathes the bright and polished blade! Fourth, a long and beauteous weapon glittering sable in its hue, With its sheath of softer goat-skin worked with gold on azure blue! And the fifth is broad and massive over thirty fingers long, Golden-sheathed and gold embosséd like a snake or fiery tongue!" Joyously responded Arjun: "Mark this bow embossed with gold, 'Tis the wondrous bow, _gandiva_, worthy of a warrior bold! Gift of heaven! to archer Arjun kindly gods this weapon sent, And the confines of a kingdom widen when the bow is bent! Next, this mighty ponderous weapon worked with elephants of gold, With this bow the stalwart Bhima hath the tide of conquests rolled! And the third with golden insects by a cunning hand inlaid, 'Tis Yudhishthir's royal weapon by the noblest artists made! Next the bow with solar lustre brave Nakula wields in fight, And the fifth is Sahadeva's, decked with gems and jewels bright! Listen, prince! these thousand arrows, unto Arjun they belong, And the darts whose blades are crescent unto Bhima brave and strong, Boar-ear shafts are young Nakula's, in the tiger-quiver cased, Sahadeva owns the arrows with the parrot's feather graced, These three-knotted shining arrows, thick and yellow vulture-plumed, They belong to King Yudhishthir, with their heads by gold illumed. Listen more! if of these sabres, prince of Matsya, thou wouldst know, Arjun's sword is toad-engraven, ever dreaded by the foe! And the sword in tiger-scabbard, massive and of mighty strength, None save tiger-waisted Bhima wields that sword of wondrous length! Next the sabre golden-hilted, sable and with gold embossed, Brave Yudhishthir kept that sabre when the king his kingdom lost! Yonder sword with goat-skin scabbard brave Nakula wields in war, In the cowhide Sahadeva keeps his shining scimitar!" "Strange thy accents," spake Uttara, "stranger are the weapons bright, Are they arms of sons of Pandu famed on earth for matchless might? Where are now those pious princes by a dire misfortune crossed, Warlike Arjun, good Yudhishthir, by his subjects loved and lost? Where is tiger-waisted Bhima, matchless fighter in the field, And the brave and twin-born brothers skilled the arms of war to wield? O'er a game they lost their empire, and we heard of them no more, Or perchance they lonesome wander on some wild and distant shore! And Draupadi noble princess, purest best of womankind, Doth she wander with Yudhishthir, changeless in her heart and mind?" Proudly answered valiant Arjun, and a smile was on his face, "Not in distant lands the brothers do their wandering footsteps trace! In thy father's court disguiséd lives Yudhishthir just and good, Bhima in thy father's palace as a cook prepares the food! Brave Nakula guards the horses, Sahadeva tends the kine, As thy sister's waiting-woman doth the fair Draupadi shine! _Pardon, prince, these rings and bangles, pardon strange unmanly guise, 'Tis no poor and sexless creature, Arjun greets thy wondering eyes!"_ IV Rescue of the Cattle Arjun decked his mighty stature in the gleaming arms of war, And with voice of distant thunder rolled the mighty battle-car! And the Kurus marked with wonder Arjun's standard lifted proud, Heard with dread the deep _gandiva_ sounding oft and sounding loud! And they knew the wondrous bowman wheeling round the battle-car, And with doubts and grave misgivings whispered Drona skilled in war: "That is Arjun's monkey-standard, how it greets my ancient eyes! Well the Kurus know the standard like a comet in the skies! Hear ye not the deep _gandiva_? How my ear its accents greet! Mark ye not these pointed arrows falling prone before my feet? By these darts his salutation to his teacher loved of old, Years of exile now completed, Arjun sends with greetings bold! How the gallant prince advances! Now I mark his form and face, Issuing from his dark concealment with a brighter, haughtier grace, Well I know his bow and arrows and I know his standard well, And the deep and echoing accents of his far-resounding shell! In his shining arms accoutred, gleaming in his helmet dread, Shines he like the flame of _homa_ by libations duly fed!" Arjun marked the Kuru warriors arming for th' impending war, Whispered thus to prince Uttara as he drove the battle-car: "Stop thy steeds, O prince of Matsya! for too close we may not go, Stop thy chariot whence my arrows reach and slay the distant foe, Seek we out the Kuru monarch, proud Duryodhan let us meet, If he falls we win the battle, other chieftains will retreat. There is Drona my preceptor, Drona's warlike son is there, Kripa and the mighty Bhishma, archer Karna, tall and fair, Them I seek not in this battle, lead, O lead thy chariot far, Midst the chiefs Duryodhan moves not, moves not in the ranks of war! But to save the pilfered cattle speeds he onward in his fear, While these warriors stay and tarry to defend their monarch's rear, But I leave these car-borne warriors, other work to-day is mine, Meet Duryodhan in the battle, win thy father's stolen kine!" Matsya's prince then turned the courses, left behind the war's array, Where Duryodhan with the cattle quickly held his onward way, Kripa marked the course of Arjun, guessed his inmost thought aright, Thus he spake to brother warriors urging speed and instant fight: "Mark ye, chieftains, gallant Arjun wheels his sounding battle-car, 'Gainst our prince and proud Duryodhan seeks to turn the tide of war! Let us fall upon our foeman and our prince and leader save, Few save INDRA, god of battles, conquers Arjun fierce and brave! What were Matsya's fattened cattle, many thousands though they be, If our monarch sinks in battle like a ship in stormy sea!" Vain were Kripa's words of wisdom! Arjun drove the chariot fair, While his shafts like countless locusts whistled through the ambient air! Kuru soldiers struck with panic neither stood and fought, nor fled, Gazed upon the distant Arjun, gazed upon their comrades dead! Arjun twanged his mighty weapon, blew his far-resounding shell, Strangely spake his monkey-standard, Kuru warriors knew it well! _Sankha's_ voice, _gandiva's_ accents, and the chariot's booming sound, Filled the air like distant thunder, shook the firm and solid ground! Kuru soldiers fled in terror, or they slumbered with the dead, And the rescued lowing cattle, with their tails uplifted, fled! V Warrior's Guerdon Now with joy the king Virata to his royal city came, Saw the rescued herds of cattle, saw Uttara prince of fame, Marked the great and gallant Arjun, helmet-wearing, armour-cased, Knew Yudhishthir and his brothers now as royal princes dressed, And he greeted good Yudhishthir, truth-beloving brave and strong, And to valiant Arjun offered Matsya's princess fair and young! "Pardon, monarch," answered Arjun, "but I may not take as bride, Matsya's young and beauteous princess whom I love with father's pride, She hath often met me trusting in the inner palace hall, As a daughter on a father waited on my loving call! I have trained her _kokil_ accents, taught her maiden steps in dance, Watched her skill and varied graces all her native charms enhance! Pure is she in thought and action, spotless as my hero boy, Grant her to my son, O monarch, as his wedded wife and joy! Abhimanyu trained in battle, handsome youth of godlike face, Krishna's sister, fair Subhadra, bore the child of princely grace! Worthy of thy youthful daughter, pure in heart and undefiled, Grant it, sire, my Abhimanyu wed thy young and beauteous child!" Answered Matsya's noble monarch with a glad and grateful heart: "Words like these befit thy virtue, nobly hast thou done thy part! Be it as thou sayest, Arjun; unto Pandu's race allied, Matsya's royal line is honoured, Matsya's king is gratified!" VI The Wedding Good Yudhishthir heard the tidings, and he gave his free assent, Unto distant chiefs and monarchs kindly invitations sent, In the town of Upa-plavya, of fair Matsya's towns the best, Made their home the pious brothers to receive each royal guest. Came unto them Kasi's monarch and his arméd troopers came, And the king of fair Panchala with his sons of warlike fame, Came the sons of fair Draupadi early trained in art of war, Other chiefs and sacrifices came from regions near and far. Krishna decked in floral garlands with his elder brother came, And his sister fair Subhadra, Arjun's loved and longing dame, Arjun's son brave Abhimanyu came upon his flowery car, And with elephants and chargers, troopers trained in art of war. Vrishnis from the sea-girt Dwarka, bravo Andhakas known to fame, Bhojas from the mighty Chumbal with the righteous Krishna came, He to gallant sons of Pandu made his presents rich and rare, Gems and gold and costly garments, slaves and damsels passing fair. With its quaint and festive greetings came at last the bridal day, Matsya maids were merry-hearted and the Pandav brothers gay! Conch and cymbal, horn and trumpet spake forth music soft and sweet, In Virata's royal palace, in the peopled mart and street! And they slay the jungle red-deer, and they spread the ample board, And prepare the cooling palm-drink, with the richest viands stored! Mimes and actors please the people, bards recite the ancient song, Glories of heroic houses minstrels by their lays prolong! And deep-bosomed dames of Matsya, jasmine-form and lotus-face, With their pearls and golden garlands joyously the bridal grace! Circled by those royal ladies, though they all are bright and fair, Brightest shines the fair Draupadi with a beauty rich and rare! Stately dames and merry maidens lead the young and soft-eyed bride, As the queens of gods encircle INDRA'S daughter in her pride! Arjun from the Matsya monarch takes the princess passing fair, For his son by fair Subhadra, nursed by Krishna's loving care, With a godlike grace Yudhishthir stands by faithful Arjun's side, As a father takes a daughter, takes the young and beauteous bride, Joins her hands to Abhimanyu's, and with cake and parchéd rice, On the altar brightly blazing doth the holy sacrifice. Matsya's monarch on the bridegroom rich and costly presents pressed, Elephants he gave two hundred, steeds seven thousand of the best, Poured libations on the altar, on the priests bestowed his gold, Offered to the sons of Pandu rich domain and wealth untold! With a pious hand Yudhishthir, true in heart and pure in mind, Made his gifts, in gold and garments, kine and wealth of every kind, Costly chariots, beds of splendour, robes with thread of gold belaced, Viands rich and sweet confection, drinks the richest and the best, Lands he gave unto the Brahman, bullocks to the labouring swain, Steeds he gave unto the warrior, to the people gifts and grain, And the city of the Matsyas, teeming with a wealth untold, Shone with festive joy and gladness and with flags and cloth of gold! BOOK VII UDYOGA (The Preparation) The term of banishment having expired, Yudhishthir demanded that the kingdom of Indra-prastha should be restored to him. The old Dhrita-rashtra and his queen and the aged and virtuous councillors advised the restoration, but, the jealous Duryodhan hated his cousins with a genuine hatred, and would not cement. All negotiations were therefore futile, and preparations were made on both sides for the most sanguinary and disastrous battle that bad ever been witnessed in Northern India. The portions translated in this Book are from Sections i., ii. iii., xciv., cxxiv., and cxxvi. of Book v. of the original text. I Krishna's Speech Mirth and song and nuptial music waked the echoes of the night, Youthful bosoms throbbed with pleasure, love-lit glances sparkled bright, But when young and white-robed USHAS ope'd the golden gates of day, To Virata's council chamber chieftains thoughtful held their way. Stones inlaid in arch and pillar glinted in the glittering dawn, Gay festoons and graceful garlands o'er the golden cushions shone! Matsya's king, Panchala's monarch, foremost seats of honour claim, Krishna too and Valadeva, Dwarka's chiefs of righteous fame! By them sate the bold Satyaki from the sea-girt western shore, And the godlike sons of Pandu,--days of dark concealment o'er, Youthful princes in their splendour graced Virata's royal hall, Valiant sons of valiant fathers, brave in war, august and tall! In their gem-bespangled garments came the warriors proud and high, Till the council chamber glittered like the star-bespangled sky! Kind the greetings, sweet the converse, soft the golden moments fly, Till intent on graver questions all on Krishna turn their eye, Krishna with his inner vision then the state of things surveyed, And his thoughts before the monarchs thus in weighty accents laid: "Known to all, ye mighty monarchs! May your glory ever last! True to plighted word Yudhishthir hath his weary exile passed, Twelve long years with fair Draupadi in the pathless jungle strayed, And a year in menial service in Virata's palace stayed, He hath kept his plighted promise, braved affliction, woe and shame, And he begs, assembled monarchs, ye shall now his duty name! For he swerveth not from duty kingdom of the sky to win, Prizeth hamlet more than empire, so his course be free from sin, Loss of realm and wealth and glory higher virtues in him prove, Thoughts of peace and not of anger still the good Yudhishthir move! Mark again the sleepless anger and the unrelenting hate Harboured by the proud Duryodhan driven by his luckless fate, From a child, by fire or poison, impious guile or trick of dice, He hath compassed dark destruction, by deceit and low device! Ponder well, ye gracious monarchs, with a just and righteous mind, Help Yudhishthir with your counsel, with your grace and blessings kind, Should the noble son of Pandu seek his right by open war, Seek the aid of righteous monarchs and of chieftains near and far? Should he smite his ancient foemen skilled in each deceitful art, Unforgiving in their vengeance, unrelenting in their heart? Should he rather send a message to the proud unbending foe, And Duryodhan's haughty purpose seek by messenger to know? Should he send a noble envoy, trained in virtue, true and wise, With his greetings to Duryodhan in a meek and friendly guise? Ask him to restore the kingdom on the sacred Jumna's shore? Either king may rule his empire as in happy days of yore!" Krishna uttered words of wisdom pregnant with his peaceful thought, For in peace and not by bloodshed still Yudhishthir's right he sought. II Valadeva's Speech Krishna's elder Valadeva, stalwart chief who bore the plough, Rose and spake, the blood of Vrishnis mantled o'er his lofty brow: "Ye have listened, pious monarchs, to my brother's gentle word, Love he bears to good Yudhishthir and to proud Hastina's lord, For his realm by dark blue Jumna good Yudhishthir held of yore, Brave Duryodhan ruled his kingdom on the ruddy Ganga's shore, And once more in love and friendship either prince may rule his share, For the lands are broad and fertile, and each realm is rich and fair! Speed the envoy to Hastina with our love and greetings kind, Let him speak Yudhishthir's wishes, seek to know Duryodhan's mind, Make obeisance unto Bhishma and to Drona true and bold, Unto Kripa, archer Karna, and to chieftains young and old, To the sons of Dhrita-rashtra, rulers of the Kuru land, Righteous in their kingly duties, stout of heart and strong of hand, To the princes and to burghers gathered in the council hall, Let him speak Yudhishthir's wishes, plead Yudhishthir's cause to all. Speak he not in futile anger, for Duryodhan holds the power, And Yudhishthir's wrath were folly in this sad and luckless hour! By his dearest friends dissuaded, but by rage or madness driven, He hath played and lost his empire, may his folly be forgiven! Indra-prastha's spacious empire now Duryodhan deems his own, By his tears and soft entreaty let Yudhishthir seek the throne, Open war I do not counsel, humbly seek Duryodhan's grace, War will not restore the empire nor the gambler's loss replace!" Thus with cold and cruel candour stalwart Valadeva cried, Wrathful rose the brave Satyaki, fiercely thus to him replied: III Satyaki's Speech "Shame unto the halting chieftain who thus pleads Duryodhan's part, Timid counsel, Valadeva, speaks a woman's timid heart! Oft from warlike stock ariseth weakling chief who bends the knee, As a withered fruitless sapling springeth from a fruitful tree! From a heart so faint and craven, faint and craven words must flow, Monarchs in their pride and glory list not to such counsel low! Could'st thou, impious Valadeva, midst these potentates of fame, On Yudhishthir pious-hearted cast this undeservéd blame? Challenged by his wily foeman and by dark misfortune crost, Trusting to their faith Yudhishthir played a righteous game and lost! Challenge from a crownéd monarch can a crownéd king decline, Can a Kshatra warrior fathom fraud in sons of royal line? Nathless he surrendered empire true to faith and plighted word, Lived for years in pathless forests Indra-prastha's mighty lord! Past his years of weary exile, now he claims his realm of old, Claims it, not as humble suppliant, but as king and warrior bold! Past his year of dark concealment, bold Yudhishthir claims his own, Proud Duryodhan now must render Indra-prastha's jewelled throne! Bhishma counsels, Drona urges, Kripa pleads for right in vain, False Duryodhan will not render sinful conquest, fraudful gain! Open war I therefore counsel, ruthless and relentless war, Grace we seek not when we meet them speeding in our battle-car! And our weapons, not entreaties, shall our foemen force to yield, Yield Yudhishthir's rightful kingdom or they perish on the field! False Duryodhan and his forces fall beneath our battle's shock, As beneath the bolt of thunder falls the crushed and riven rock! Who shall meet the helméd Arjun in the gory field of war, Krishna with his fiery discus mounted on his battle-car? Who shall face the twin-born brothers by the mighty Bhima led, And the vengeful chief Satyaki with his bow and arrows dread? Ancient Drupad wields his weapon peerless in the field of fight, And his brave son, born of AGNI, owns an all-consuming might! Abhimanyu, son of Arjun, whom the fair Subhadra bore, And whose happy nuptials brought us from far Dwarka's sea-girt shore, Men on earth nor bright immortals can the youthful hero face, When with more than Arjun's prowess Abhimanyu leads the race! Dhrita-rashtra's sons we conquer and Gandhara's wily son, Vanquish Karna though world-honoured for his deeds of valour done, Win the fierce-contested battle and redeem Yudhishthir's own, Place the exile pious-hearted on his father's ancient throne! And no sin Satyaki reckons slaughter of the mortal foe, But to beg a grace of foemen were a mortal sin and woe! Speed we then unto our duty, let our impious foemen yield, Or the fiery son of Sini meets them on the battle-field!" IV Drupad's Speech Fair Panchala's ancient monarch rose his secret thoughts to tell, From his lips the words of wisdom with a graceful accent fell: "Much I fear thou speakest truly, hard is Kuru's stubborn race, Vain the hope, the effort futile, to beseech Duryodhan's grace! Dhrita-rashtra pleadeth vainly, feeble is his fitful star, Ancient Bhishma, righteous Drona, cannot stop this fatal war, Archer Karna thirsts for battle, moved by jealousy and pride, Deep Sakuni, false and wily, still supports Duryodhan's side! Vain is Valadeva's counsel, vainly shall our envoy plead, Half his empire proud Duryodhan yields not in his boundless greed, In his pride he deems our mildness faint and feeble-hearted fear, And our suit will fan his glory and his arrogance will cheer! Therefore let our many heralds travel near and travel far, Seek alliance of all monarchs in the great impending war, Unto brave and noble chieftains, unto nations east and west, North and south to warlike races speed our message and request! Meanwhile peace and offered friendship we before Duryodhan place, And my priest will seek Hastina, strive to win Duryodhan's grace, If he renders Indra-prastha, peace will crown the happy land, Or our troops will shake the empire from the east to western strand!" Vainly were Panchala's Brahmans sent with messages of peace, Vainly urged Hastina's elders that the fatal feud should cease, Proud Duryodhan to his kinsmen would not yield their proper share, Pandu's sons would not surrender, for they had the will to dare! Fatal war and dire destruction did the mighty gods ordain, Till the kings and arméd nations strewed the red and reeking plain! Krishna in his righteous effort sought for wisdom from above, Strove to stop the war of nations and to end the feud in love! And to far Hastina's palace Krishna went to sue for peace, Raised his voice against the slaughter, begged that strife and feud should cease! V Krishna's Speech at Hastina Silent sat the listening chieftains in Hastina's council hall, With the voice of rolling thunder Krishna spake unto them all: "Listen, mighty Dhrita-rashtra, Kuru's great and ancient king, Seek not war and death of kinsmen, word of peace and love I bring! 'Midst the wide earth's many nations Bharats in their worth excel, Love and kindness, spotless virtue, in the Kuru-elders dwell, Father of the noble nation, now retired from life's turmoil, Ill beseems that sin or untruth should thy ancient bosom soil! For thy sons in impious anger seek to do their kinsmen wrong, And withhold the throne and kingdom which by right to them belong, And a danger thus ariseth like the comet's baleful fire, Slaughtered kinsmen, bleeding nations, soon shall feed its fatal ire! Stretch thy hands, O Kuru monarch! prove thy truth and holy grace, Man of peace! avert the slaughter and preserve thy ancient race. Yet restrain thy fiery children, for thy mandates they obey, I with sweet and soft persuasion Pandu's truthful sons will sway. 'Tis thy profit, Kuru monarch! that the fatal feud should cease, Brave Duryodhan, good Yudhishthir, rule in unmolested peace, Pandu's sons are strong in valour, mighty in their arméd hand, INDRA shall not shake thy empire when they guard the Kuru land! Bhishma is thy kingdom's bulwark, doughty Drona rules the war, Karna matchless with his arrows, Kripa peerless in his car, Let Yudhishthir and stout Bhima by these noble warriors stand, And let helmet-wearing Arjun guard the sacred Kuru land, Who shall then contest thy prowess from the sea to farthest sea, Ruler of a world-wide empire, king of kings and nations free? Sons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen, will surround thee in a ring, And a race of loving heroes guard their ancient hero-king! Dhrita-rashtra's lofty edicts will proclaim his boundless sway, Nations work his righteous mandates and the kings his will obey! If this concord be rejected and the lust of war prevail, Soon within these ancient chambers will resound the sound of wail! Grant thy children be victorious and the sons of Pandu slain, Dear to thee are Pandu's children, and their death must cause thee pain! But the Pandavs skilled in warfare are renowned both near and far, And thy race and children's slaughter will methinks pollute this war, Sons and grandsons, loving princes, thou shalt never see again, Kinsmen brave and car-borne chieftains will bedeck the gory plain! Ponder yet, O ancient monarch! Rulers of each distant State, Nations from the farthest regions gather thick to court their fate, Father of a righteous nation! Save the princes of the land, On the armed and fated nations stretch, old man, thy saving hand! Say the word, and at thy bidding leaders of each hostile race Not the gory field of battle, but the festive board will grace, Robed in jewels, decked in garlands, they will quaff the ruddy wine, Greet their foes in mutual kindness, bless thy holy name and thine! Think, O man of many seasons! When good Pandu left this throne, And his helpless loving orphans thou didst cherish as thine own, 'Twas thy helping steadying fingers taught their infant steps to frame, 'Twas thy loving gentle accents taught their lips to lisp each name, As thine own they grew and blossomed, dear to thee they yet remain, Take them back unto thy bosom, be a father once again! Unto thee, O Dhrita-rashtra! Pandu's sons in homage bend, And a loving peaceful message through my willing lips they send: Tell our monarch, more than father, by his sacred stern command We have lived in pathless jungle, wandered far from land to land, True unto our plighted promise, for we ever felt and knew, To his promise Dhrita-rashtra cannot, will not be untrue! Years of anxious toil are over and of woe and bitterness, Years of waiting and of watching, years of danger and distress. Like a dark unending midnight hung on us this age forlorn, Streaks of hope and dawning brightness usher now the radiant morn! Be unto us as a father, loving not inspired by wrath, Be unto us as preceptor, pointing us the righteous path, If perchance astray we wander, thy strong arm shall lead aright, If our feeble bosom fainteth, help us with a father's might! This, O king! the soft entreaty Pandu's sons to thee have made, These are words the sons of Pandu unto Kuru's king have said, Take their love, O gracious monarch! Let thy closing days be fair, Let Duryodhan keep his kingdom, let the Pandavs have their share. Call to mind their noble suffering, for the tale is dark and long Of the outrage they have suffered, of the insult and the wrong! Exiled into Varnavata, destined unto death by flame, For the gods assist the righteous, they with added prowess came! Exiled into Indra-prastha, by their toil and by their might Cleared a forest, built a city, did the _rajasuya_ rite! Cheated of their realm and empire and of all they called their own, In the jungle they have wandered and in Matsya lived unknown, Once more quelling every evil they are stout of heart and hand, Now redeem thy plighted promise and restore their throne and land! _Trust me, mighty Dhrita-rashtra! trust me, lords who grace this hall, Krishna pleads for peace and virtue, blessings unto you and all!_ _Slaughter not the arméd nations, slaughter not thy kith and kin, Mark not, king, thy closing winters with the bloody stain of sin!_ _Let thy sons and Pandu's children stand beside thy ancient throne, Cherish peace and cherish virtue, for thy days are almost done!"_ VI Bhishma's Speech From the monarch's ancient bosom sighs and sobs convulsive broke, Bhishma wiped his manly eyelids and to proud Duryodhan spoke: "Listen, prince! for righteous Krishna counsels love and holy peace, Listen, youth! and may thy fortune with thy passing years increase! Yield to Krishna's words of wisdom, for thy weal he nobly strives, Yield and save thy friends and kinsmen, save thy cherished subjects' lives! Foremost race in all this wide earth is Hastina's royal line, Bring not on them dire destruction by a sinful act of thine! Sons and fathers, friends and brothers, shall in mutual conflict die, Kinsmen slain by dearest kinsmen shall upon the red field lie! Hearken unto Krishna's counsel, unto wise Vidura's word, Be thy mother's fond entreaty and thy father's mandate heard! Tempt not _devas'_ fiery vengeance on thy old heroic race, Tread not in the path of darkness, seek the path of light and grace! Listen to thy king and father, he hath Kuru's empire graced, Listen to thy queen and mother, she hath nursed thee on her breast!" VII Drona's Speech Out spake Drona priest and warrior, and his words were few and high, Clouded was Duryodhan's forehead, wrathful was Duryodhan's eye: "Thou hast heard the holy counsel which the righteous Krishna said, Ancient Bhishma's voice of warning thou hast in thy bosom weighed, Peerless in their godlike wisdom are these chiefs in peace or strife, Truest friends to thee, Duryodhan, pure and sinless in their life, Take their counsel, and thy kinsmen fasten in the bonds of peace, May the empire of the Kurus and their warlike fame increase! List unto thy old preceptor! Faithless is thy fitful star, False they feed with hopes thy bosom, those who urge and counsel war! Crownéd kings and arméd nations, they will strive for thee in vain, Vainly brothers, sons, and kinsmen will for thee their life-blood drain, For the victor's crown and glory never, never can be thine, Krishna conquers, and brave Arjun! mark these deathless words of mine! I have trained the youthful Arjun, seen him bend the warlike bow, Marked him charge the hostile forces, marked him smite the scattered foe! Fiery son of Jamadagni owned no greater, loftier might, Breathes on earth no mortal warrior conquers Arjun in the fight! Krishna too, in war resistless, comes from Dwarka's distant shore, And the bright-gods quake before him whom the fair Devaki bore! These are foes thou may'st not conquer, take an ancient warrior's word, Act thou as thy heart decideth, thou art Kuru's king and lord!" VIII Vidura's Speech Then in gentler voice Vidura sought his pensive mind to tell, From his lips serene and softly words of woe and anguish fell: "Not for thee I grieve, Duryodhan, slain by vengeance fierce and keen, For thy father weeps my bosom and the aged Kuru queen! Sons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen slaughtered in this fatal war, Homeless, cheerless, on this wide earth they shall wander long and far! Friendless, kinless, on this wide earth whither shall they turn and fly? Like some bird bereft of plumage, they shall pine awhile and die! Of their race and sad survivors, they shall wander o'er the earth, Curse the fatal day, Duryodhan, saw thy sad and woeful birth!" IX Dhrita-rashtra's Speech Tear-drops filled his sightless eyeballs, anguish shook his agéd frame, As the monarch soothed Duryodhan by each fond endearing name: "Listen, dearest son, Duryodhan, shun this dark and fatal strife, Cast not grief and death's black shadows on thy parents' closing life! Krishna's heart is pure and spotless, true and wise the words he said, We may win a world-wide empire with the noble Krishna's aid! Seek the friendship of Yudhishthir, loved of righteous gods above, And unite the scattered Kurus by the lasting tie of love! Now at full is tide of fortune, never may it come again, Strive and win! or ever after all repentance may be vain! Peace is righteous Krishna's counsel, and he offers loving peace, Take the offered boon, Duryodhan! Let all strife and hatred cease!" X Duryodhan's Speech Silent sat the proud Duryodhan, wrathful in the council hall, Spake to mighty-arméd Krishna and to Kuru warriors all: "Ill becomes thee, Dwarka's chieftain, in the paths of sin to move, Bear for me a secret hatred, for the Pandavs secret love! And my father, wise Vidura, ancient Bhishma, Drona bold, Join thee in this bitter hatred, turn on me their glances cold! What great crime or darkening sorrow shadows o'er my bitter fate, That ye chiefs and Kuru's monarch mark Duryodhan for your hate? Speak, what nameless guilt or folly, secret sin to me unknown, Turns from me your sweet affection, father's love that was my own? If Yudhishthir, fond of gambling, played a heedless, reckless game, Lost his empire and his freedom, was it then Duryodhan's blame? And if freed from shame and bondage in his folly played again, Lost again and went to exile, wherefore doth he now complain? Weak are they in friends and forces, feeble is their fitful star, Wherefore then in pride and folly seek with us unequal war? Shall we, who to mighty INDRA scarce will do the homage due, Bow to homeless sons of Pandu and their comrades faint and few? Bow to them while warlike Drona leads us as in days of old, Bhishma greater than the bright-gods, archer Karna true and bold? If in dubious game of battle we should forfeit fame and life, Heaven will ope its golden portals for the Kshatra slain in strife! If unbending to our foemen we should press the gory plain, Stingless is the bed of arrows, death for us will have no pain! For the Kshatra knows no terror of his foeman in the field, Breaks like hardened forest timber, bonds not, knows not how to yield! So the ancient sage Matanga of the warlike Kshatra said, Save to priest and sage preceptor unto none he bends his head! Indra-prastha which my father weakly to Yudhishthir gave, Nevermore shall go unto him while I live and brothers brave! Kuru's undivided kingdom Dhrita-rashtra rules alone, Let us sheathe our swords in friendship and the monarch's empire own! If in past in thoughtless folly once the realm was broke in twain, Kuru-land is re-united, never shall be split again! _Take my message to my kinsmen, for Duryodhan's words are plain, Portion of the Kuru empire sons of Pandu seek in vain!_ _Town nor village, mart nor hamlet, help us righteous gods in heaven, Spot that needle's point can cover not unto them be given!"_ BOOK VIII BHISHMA-BADHA (Fall of Bhishma) All negotiations for a peaceful partition of the Kuru kingdom having failed, both parties now prepared for a battle, perhaps the most sanguinary that was fought on the plains of India in the ancient times. It was a battle of nations, for all warlike races in Northern India took a share in it. Duryodhan's army consisted of his own division, as well as the divisions of ten allied kings. Each allied power is said to have brought one _akshauhini_ troops, and if we reduce this fabulous number to the moderate figure of ten thousand, including horse and foot, cars and elephants, Duryodhan's army including his own division was over a hundred thousand strong. Yudhishthir had a smaller army, said to have been seven _akshauhinis_ in number, which we may by a similar reduction reckon to be seventy thousand. His father-in-law the king of the Panchalas, and Arjun's relative the king of the Matsyas, were his principal allies. Krishna joined him as his friend and adviser, and as the charioteer of Arjun, but the Vrishnis as a nation had joined Duryodhan. When the two armies were drawn up in array and faced each other, and Arjun saw his revered elders and dear friends and relations among his foes, he was unwilling to fight. It was on this occasion that Krishna explained to him the great principles of Duty in that memorable work called the _Bhagavat-gita_ which has been translated into so many European languages. Belief in one Supreme Deity is the underlying thought of this work, and ever and anon, as Professor Garbe remarks, "does Krishna revert to the doctrine that for every man, no matter to what caste he may belong, the zealous performance of his duty and the discharge of his obligations is his most important work." Duryodhan chose the grand old fighter Bhishma as the commander-in-chief of his army, and for ten days Bhishma held his own and inflicted serious loss on Yudhishthir's army. The principal incidents of these ten days, ending with the fall of Bhishma, are narrated in this Book. This Book is an abridgment of Book vi. of the original text. I Pandavs routed by Bhishma Ushas with her crimson fingers oped the portals of the day, Nations armed for mortal combat in the field of battle lay! Beat of drum and blare of trumpet and the _sankha's_ lofty sound, By the answering cloud repeated, shook the hills and tented ground, And the voice of sounding weapons which the warlike archers drew, And the neigh of battle chargers as the arméd horsemen flew, Mingled with the rolling thunder of each swiftly-speeding car, And with pealing bells proclaiming mighty elephants of war! Bhishma led the Kuru forces, strong as Death's resistless flail, Human chiefs nor bright Immortals could against his might prevail, Helmet-wearing, gallant Arjun came in pride and mighty wrath, Held aloft his famed _gandiva_, strove to cross the chieftain's path! Abhimanyu, son of Arjun, whom the fair Subhadra bore, Drove against Kosala's monarch famed in arms and holy lore, Hurling down Kosala's standard he the dubious combat won, Barely escaped with life the monarch from the fiery Arjun's son! With his fated foe Duryodhan, Bhima strove in deathful war, And against the proud Duhsasan brave Nakula drove his car, Sahadeva, mighty bowman, then the fierce Durmukha sought, And the righteous king Yudhishthir with the car-borne Salya fought, Ancient feud and deathless hatred fired the Brahman warrior bold, Drona with the proud Panchalas fought once more his feud of old! Nations from the Eastern regions 'gainst the bold Virata pressed, Kripa met the wild Kaikeyas hailing from the furthest West, Drupad, proud and peerless monarch, with his cohorts onward bore 'Gainst the warlike Jayadratha, chief of Sindhu's sounding shore, Chedis and the valiant Matsyas, nations gathered from afar, Bhojas and the fierce Kambojas mingled in the dubious war! Through the day the battle lasted, and no mortal tongue can tell What unnumbered chieftains perished and what countless soldiers fell, And the son knew not his father, and the sire knew not his son, Brother fought against his brother, strange the deeds of valour done! Horses fell, and shafts of chariots shivered in resistless shock, Hurled against the foreman's chariots, speeding like the rolling rock, Elephants by _mahuts_ driven furiously each other tore, Trumpeting with trunks uplifted on the serried soldiers bore! Ceaseless plied the gallant troopers, with a stern unyielding might, Pikes and axes, clubs and maces, swords and spears and lances bright, Horsemen flew as forkéd lightning, heroes fought in shining mail, Archers poured their feathered arrows like the bright and glistening hail! Bhishma, leader of the Kurus, as declined the dreadful day, Through the shattered Pandav legions forced his all-resistless way, Onward went his palm-tree standard through the hostile ranks of war, Matsyas, Kasis, nor Panchalas faced the mighty Bhishma's car! But the fiery son of Arjun, filled with shame and bitter wrath, Turned his car and tawny coursers to obstruct the chieftain's path, Vainly fought the youthful warrior, though his darts were pointed well, And dissevered from his chariot Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell, Anger stirred the ancient Bhishma, and he rose in all his might, Abhimanyu, pierced with arrows, fell and fainted in the fight! Then to save the son of Arjun, Matsya's gallant princes came, Brave Uttara, noble Sweta, youthful warriors known to fame, Ah! too early fell the warriors in that sad and fatal strife, Matsya's dames and dark-eyed maidens wept the princes' shortened life! Slain by cruel fate, untimely, fell two brothers young and good, Dauntless still the youngest brother, proud and gallant Sankha stood! But the helmet-wearing Arjun came to stop the victor's path, And to save the fearless Sankha from the ancient Bhishma's wrath, Drupad too, Panchala's monarch, swiftly rushed into the fray, Strove to shield the broken Pandavs and to stop the victor's way, But as fire consumes the forest, wrathful Bhishma slew the foe, None could face his sounding chariot and his ever-circled bow! And the fainting Pandav warriors marked the foe, resistless, bold, Shook like unprotected cattle tethered in the blighting cold! Onward came the mighty Bhishma and the slaughter fiercer grew, From his bow like hissing serpents still the glistening arrows flew! Onward came the ancient warrior, and his path was strewn with dead, And the broken Pandav forces, crushed and driven, scattered fled! Friendly night and gathering darkness closed the slaughter of the day, To their tents the sons of Pandu held their sad and weary way! II Kurus routed by Arjun Grieved at heart the good Yudhishthir wept the losses of the day, Sought the aid of gallant Krishna for the morning's fresh array, And when from the eastern mountains SURYA drove his fiery car, Bhishma and the helméd Arjun strove to turn the tide of war! Bhishma's glorious palm-tree standard o'er the field of battle rose, Arjun's monkey-standard glittered cleaving through the serried foes, _Devas_ from their cloud-borne chariots, and _gandharvas_ from the sky, Gazed in mute and speechless wonder on the human chiefs from high! While with dauntless valour Arjun still the mighty Bhishma sought, Warlike prince of fair Panchala with the doughty Drona fought, Ceaseless 'gainst the proud preceptor sent his darts like summer rain, Baffled by the skill of Drona, Dhrista-dyumna strove in vain! But the fiercer darts of Drona pierced the prince's shattered mail, Hurtling on his battle chariot like an angry shower of hail, And they rent in twain his bowstring, and they cut his pond'rous mace, Slew his steeds and chariot-driver, streaked with blood his godlike face! Dauntless still, Panchala's hero, springing from his shattered car, Like a hungry desert lion with his sabre rushed to war, Dashed aside the darts of Drona with his broad and ample shield, With his sabre brightly flaming fearless trod the reddened field! In his fury and his rashness he had fallen on that day, But the ever-watchful Bhima stopped the proud preceptor's way! Proud Duryodhan marked with anger Bhima rushing in his car, And he sent Kalinga's forces to the thickening ranks of war, Onward came Kalinga warriors with the dark tornado's might, Dusky chiefs, Nishada warriors, gloomy as the sable night! Rose the shout of warring nations surging to the battle's fore, Like the angry voice of tempest and the ocean's troubled roar! And like darkly rolling breakers ranks of serried warriors flew, Scarcely in the thickening darkness friends and kin from foemen knew! Fell the young prince of Kalinga by the wrathful Bhima slain, But against Kalinga's monarch baffled Bhima fought in vain, Safely sat the eastern monarch on his _howda's_ lofty seat, Till upon the giant tusker Bhima sprang with agile feet, Then he struck with fatal fury, brave Kalinga fell in twain, Scattered fled his countless forces, when they saw their leader slain! Darkly rolled the tide of battle where Duryodhan's valiant son Strove against the son of Arjun famed for deeds of valour done, Proud Duryodhan marked the contest with a father's anxious heart, Came to save his gallant Lakshman from brave Abhimanyu's dart, And the helmet-wearing Arjun marked his son among his foes, Wheeled from far his battle-chariot and in wrath terrific rose! "Arjun!" "Arjun!" cried the Kurus, and in panic broke and fled, Steed and tusker turned from battle, soldiers fell among the dead! Godlike Krishna drove the coursers of resistless Arjun's car, And the sound of Arjun's _sankha_ rose above the cry of war! And the voice of his _gandiva_ spread a terror far and near, Crushed and broken, faint and frightened, fled the Kurus in their fear! Onward still through scattered foemen conquering Arjun held his way, Till the evening's gathering darkness closed the action of the day! III Bhishma and Arjun meet Anxious was the proud Duryodhan when the golden morning came, For before the car of Arjun fled each Kuru chief of fame, Brave Duryodhan shook in anger and a tremor moved his frame, As he spake to ancient Bhishma words of wrath in bitter shame: "Bhishma! dost thou lead the Kurus in this battle's crimson field? Warlike Drona, doth he guard us like a broad and ample shield? Wherefore then before yon Arjun do the valiant Kurus fly? Wherefore doth our leader linger when he hears the battle cry? Doth a secret love for Pandavs quell our leader's matchless might? With a halting zeal for Kurus doth the noble Bhishma fight? Pardon, chief! if for the Pandavs doth thy partial heart incline, Yield thy place! let faithful Karna lead my gallant Kuru line!" Anger flamed on Bhishma's forehead and the tear was in his eye, And in accents few and trembling thus the warrior made reply: "Vain our toil, unwise Duryodhan! Nor can Bhishma warrior old, Nor can Drona skilled in weapons, Karna archer proud and bold, Wash the stain of deeds unholy and of wrongs and outraged laws, Conquer with a load of cunning 'gainst a right and righteous cause! Deaf to wisdom's voice, Duryodhan! deaf to parents and to kin, Thou shalt perish in thy folly, in thy unrepented sin! For the wrongs and insults offered unto good Yudhishthir's wife, For the kingdom from him stolen, for the plots against his life, For the dreadful oath of Bhima, for the holy counsel given, Vainly given by saintly Krishna, thou art doomed by righteous Heaven! Meanwhile since he leads thy forces, Bhishma still shall meet his foe, Or to conquer, or to perish, to the battle's front I go." Speaking thus, unto the battle ancient Bhishma held his way, Sweeping all before his chariot as upon a previous day, And the army of Yudhishthir shook from end to farthest end, Arjun nor the valiant Krishna could against the tide contend! Cars were shattered, fled the coursers, elephants were pierced and slain, Shafts of chariots, broken standards, lifeless soldiers strewed the plain! Coats of mail were left by warriors as they ran with streaming hair, Soldiers fled like herds of cattle stricken by a sudden fear! Krishna, Arjun's chariot-driver, and a chief of righteous fame, Marked the broken Pandav forces, spake in grief and bitter shame: "Arjun! not in hour of battle hath it been they wont to fly, Forward lay thy path of glory, or to conquer or to die! If to-day with angry Bhishma Arjun shuns the dubious fight, Shame on Krishna! if he joins thee in this sad inglorious flight! Be it mine alone, O Arjun! warrior's wonted work to know, Krishna with his fiery discus smites the all-resistless foe!" Then he flung the reins to Arjun, left the steeds and sounding car, Leaped upon the field of battle, rushed into the dreadful war! "Shame!" cried Arjun in his anger, "Krishna shall not wage the fight, Nor shall Arjun like a recreant seek for safety in his flight!" And he dashed behind the warrior, and on foot the chief pursued, Caught him as the angry Krishna still his distant foeman viewed, Stalwart Arjun lifted Krishna, as the storm lifts up a tree, Placed him on his battle-chariot, and he bent to him his knee: "Pardon, Krishna, this compulsion! pardon this transgression bold, But while Arjun lives, O chieftain! weapon of thy wrath withhold! By my warlike Abhimanyu, fair Subhadra's darling boy, By my brothers, dearer, truer, than in hours of pride and joy, By my troth I pledge thee, Krishna,--let thy angry discus sleep,-- Archer Arjun meets his foeman, and his plighted word will keep." Forthwith rushed the fiery Arjun in his sounding battle-car, And like waves before him parted serried ranks of hostile war, Vainly hurled his lance Duryodhan 'gainst the valiant warrior's face, Vainly Salya, king of Madra, threw with skill his pond'rous mace, With disdain the godlike Arjun dashed the feeble darts aside, Hold aloft his famed _gandiva_ as he stood with haughty pride, Beat of drum and blare of _sankha_ and the thunder of his car, And his weapon's fearful accents rose terrific near and far! Came resistless Pandav forces, sweeping onward wave on wave, Chedis, Matsyas, and Panchalas, chieftains true and warriors brave! Onward too came forth the Kurus, by the matchless Bhishma led, Shouts arose and cry of anguish midst the dying and the dead! But the evening closed in darkness, and the night-fires fitful flared, Fainting troops and bleeding chieftains to their various tents repaired! IV Duryodhan's Brothers slain Dawned another day of battle; Kurus knew that day too well, Widowed queens of fair Hastina wept before the evening fell! For as whirlwind of destruction Bhima swept in mighty wrath, Broke the serried line of tuskers vainly sent to cross his path, Smote Duryodhan with his arrows, three terrific darts and five, Smote proud Salya; from the battle scarce they bore the chiefs alive! Then Duryodhan's fourteen brothers rushed into the dreadful fray, Fatal was the luckless moment, inauspicious was the day! Licked his mouth the vengeful Bhima, and he shook his bow and lance, As the lion lolls his red tongue when he see his prey advance, Short and fierce the furious combat; six pale princes turned and fled, Eight of proud Duryodhan's brothers fell and slumbered with the dead! V Satyaki's Sons slain Morning with her fiery radiance oped the portals of the day, Shone once more on Kuru warriors, Pandav chiefs in dread array! Bhima and the gallant Arjun led once more the van of war, But the proud preceptor Drona faced them in his sounding car! Still with gallant son of Arjun, Lakshman strove with bow and shield, Vainly strove; his faithful henchman bore him bleeding from the field! Lakshman, son of proud Duryodhan! Abhimanyu, Arjun's son, Doomed to die in youth and glory 'neath the same revolving sun! Sad the day for Vrishni warriors! Brave Satyaki's sons of might, 'Gainst the cruel Bhuri-sravas strove in unrelenting fight, Ten brave brothers, pride of Vrishni, fell upon that fatal day, Slain by mighty Bhuri-sravas, and upon the red field lay! VI Bhima's Danger and Rescue Dawned another day of slaughter; heedless Bhima forced his way, Through Duryodhan's serried legions, where dark death and danger lay, And a hundred foemen gathered, and unequal was the strife, Bhima strove with furious valour, for his forfeit was his life! Fair Panchala's watchful monarch saw the danger from afar, Forced his way where bleeding Bhima fought beside his shattered car, And he helped the fainting warrior, placed him on his chariot-seat, But the Kurus darkly gathered, surging round as waters meet! Arjun's son and twelve brave chieftains dashed into the dubious fray, Rescued Bhima and proud Drupad from the Kurus' grim array, Surging still the Kuru forces onward came with ceaseless might, Drona smote the scattered Pandavs till the darksome hours of night! VII Pandavs routed by Bhishma Morning came and angry Arjun rushed into the dreadful war, Krishna drove his milk-white coursers, onward flew his sounding car, And before his monkey banner quailed the faint and frightened foes, Till like star on billowy ocean Bhishma's palm-tree banner rose! Vainly then the good Yudhishthir, stalwart Bhima, Arjun brave, Strove with useless toil and valour shattered ranks of war to save, Vainly too the Pandav brothers on the peerless Bhishma fell, Gods in sky nor earthly warriors Bhishma's matchless might could quell! Fell Yudhishthir's lofty standard, shook his chariot battle-tost, Fell his proud and fiery coursers, and the dreadful day was lost! Sahadeva and Nakula vainly strove with all their might, Till their broken scattered forces rested in the shades of night! VIII Iravat slain: Duryodhan's Brothers slain Morning saw the turn of battle; Bhishma's charioteer was slain, And his coursers uncontrolléd flew across the reddened plain, Ill it fared with Kuru forces when their leader went astray, And their foremost chiefs and warriors with the dead and dying lay. But Gandhara's mounted princes rode across the battle-ground,-- For its steeds and matchless chargers is Gandhara's realm renowned, And to smite the young Iravat fierce Gandhara's princes swore,-- Brave Iravat, son of Arjun, whom a Naga princess bore! Mounted on their milk-white chargers proudly did the princes sweep, Like the sea-birds skimming gaily o'er the bosom of the deep, Five of stout Gandhara's princes in that fatal combat fell, And a sixth in fear and faintness fled the woeful tale to tell! Short, alas, Iravat's triumph, transient was the victor's joy, Alumbusha dark and dreadful came against the gallant boy, Fierce and fateful was the combat, mournful is the tale to tell, Like a lotus rudely severed, gallant son of Arjun fell! Arjun heard the tale of sorrow, and his heart was filled with grief, Thus he spake a father's anguish, faint his accents, few and brief: "Wherefore, Krishna, for a kingdom mingle in this fatal fray, Kinsmen killed and comrades slaughtered,--dear, alas! the price we pay! Woe unto Hastina's empire built upon our children's grave! Dearer than the throne of monarchs was Iravat young and brave! Young in years and rich in beauty, with thy mother's winsome eye! Art thou slain, my gallant warrior, and thy father was not nigh? But thy young blood calls for vengeance! noble Krishna, drive the car, Let them feel the father's prowess, those who slew the son in war!" And he dashed the glistening tear-drop, and his words were few and brief, Broken ranks and slaughtered chieftains spoke an angry father's grief! Bhima too revenged Iravat, and as onward still he flew, Brothers of the proud Duryodhan in that fatal combat slew! Still advanced the fatal carnage till the darksome close of day, When the wounded and the weary with the dead and lying lay! IX Pandavs routed by Bhishma Fell the thickening shades of darkness on the red and ghastly plain, Torches by the white tents flickered, red fires showed the countless slain, With a bosom sorrow-laden proud Duryodhan drew his breath, Wept the issue of the battle and his warlike brother's death. Spent with grief and silent sorrow slow the Kuru monarch went Where arose in dewy starlight Bhishma's proud and snowy tent, And with tears and hands conjoinéd thus the sad Duryodhan spoke, And his mournful bitter accents oft by heaving sighs were broke: "Bhishma! on thy matchless prowess Kuru's hopes and fates depend, Gods nor men with warlike Bhishma can in field of war contend! Brave in war are sons of Pandu, but they face not Bhishma's might, In their fierce and deathless hatred slay my brothers in the fight! Mind thy pledge, O chief of Kurus, save Hastina's royal race, On the ancient king my father grant thy never-failing grace! If within thy noble bosom,--pardon cruel words I say,-- Secret love for sons of Pandu holds a soft and partial sway, If thy inner heart's affection unto Pandu's sons incline, Grant that Karna lead my forces 'gainst the foeman's hostile line!" Bhishma's heart was full of sadness and his eyelids dropped a tear, Soft and mournful were his accents and his vision true and clear: "Vain, Duryodhan, is this contest, and thy mighty host is vain, Why with blood of friendly nations drench this red and reeking plain? They must win who, strong in virtue, fight for virtue's stainless laws, Doubly armed the stalwart warrior who is armed in righteous cause! Think, Duryodhan, when _gandharvas_ took thee captive and a slave, Did not Arjun rend thy fetters, Arjun righteous chief and brave? When in Matsya's fields of pasture captured we Virata's kine, Did not Arjun in his valour beat thy countless force and mine? Krishna now hath come to Arjun, Krishna drives his battle-car, Gods nor men can face these heroes in the field of righteous war! Ruin frowns on thee, Duryodhan, and upon thy impious State, In thy pride and in thy folly thou hast courted cruel fate! Bhishma still will do his duty, and his end it is not far, Then may other chieftains follow,--fatal is this Kuru war!" Dawned a day of mighty slaughter and of dread and deathful war, Ancient Bhishma, in his anger drove once more his sounding car! Morn to noon and noon to evening none could face the victor's wrath, Broke and shattered, faint and frightened, Pandavs fled before his path! Still amidst the dead and dying moved his proud resistless car, Till the gathering night and darkness closed the horrors of the war! X Fall of Bhishma Good Yudhishthir gazed with sorrow on the dark and ghastly plain, Shed his tears on chiefs and warriors by the matchless Bhishma slain! "Vain this unavailing battle, vain this woeful loss of life, 'Gainst the death-compelling Bhishma hopeless in this arduous strife! As a lordly tusker tramples on a marsh of feeble reeds, As a forest conflagration on the parchéd woodland feeds, Bhishma rides upon my warriors in his mighty battle-car, God nor mortal chief can face him in the gory field of war! Vain our toil, and vain the valour of our kinsmen loved and lost, Vainly fight my faithful brothers by a luckless fortune crost, Nations pour their life-blood vainly, ceaseless wakes the sound of woe, Krishna, stop this cruel carnage, unto woods once more we go!" Sad they hold a midnight council and the chiefs in silence meet, And they went to ancient Bhishma, love and mercy to entreat, Bhishma loved the sons of Pandu with a father's loving heart, But from troth unto Duryodhan righteous Bhishma would not part! "Sons of Pandu!" said the chieftain, "Prince Duryodhan is my lord, Bhishma is no faithless servant nor will break his plighted word, Valiant are ye, noble princes, but the chief is yet unborn, While I lead the course of battle, who the tide of war can turn! Listen more. With vanquished foeman, or who falls or takes to fight, Casts his weapons, craves for mercy, ancient Bhishma doth not fight, Bhishma doth not fight a rival who submits, fatigued and worn, Bhishma doth not fight the wounded, doth not fight a woman born!" Back unto their tents the Pandavs turn with Krishna deep and wise, He unto the anxious Arjun thus in solemn whisper cries: "Arjun, there is hope of triumph! Hath not truthful Bhishma sworn, He will fight no wounded warrior, he will fight no woman born? Female child was brave Sikhandin, Drupad's youngest son of pride, Gods have turned him to a warrior, placed him by Yudhishthir's side! Place him in the van of battle, mighty Bhishma leaves the strife, Then with ease we fight and conquer, and the forfeit is his life!" "Shame!" exclaimed the angry Arjun, "not in secret heroes fight, Not behind a child or woman screen their valour and their might! Krishna, loth is archer Arjun to pursue this hateful strife, Trick against the sinless Bhishma, fraud upon his spotless life! Knowest thou good and noble Krishna; as a child I climbed his knee, As a boy I called him father, hung upon him lovingly? Perish conquest! dearly purchased by a mean deceitful strife! Perish crown and jewelled sceptre! won with Bhishma's saintly life!" Gravely answered noble Krishna: "Bhishma falls by close of day, Victim to the cause of virtue, he himself hath showed the way! Dear or hated be the foeman, Arjun, thou shalt fight and slay, Wherefore else the blood of nations hast thou poured from day to day?" Morning dawned, and mighty Arjun, Abhimanyu young and bold, Drupad monarch of Panchala, and Virata stern and old, Brave Yudhishthir and his brothers clad in arms and shining mail, Rushed to war where Bhishma's standard gleamed and glittered in the gale! Proud Duryodhan marked their onset, and its fatal purpose knew, And his bravest men and chieftains 'gainst the fiery Pandavs threw, With Kamboja's stalwart monarch and with Drona's mighty son, With the valiant bowman Kripa stemmed the battle still unwon! And his younger, fierce Duhsasan, thirsting for the deathful war, 'Gainst the helmet-wearing Arjun drew his mighty battle-car, As the high and rugged mountain meets the angry ocean's sway, Proud Duhsasan warred with Arjun in his wild and onward way, And as myriad white-winged sea-birds swoop upon the darksome wave, Clouds of darts and glistening lances drank the red blood of the brave! Other warlike Kuru chieftains came, the bravest and the best, Drona's self and Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East, Car-borne Salya, mighty warrior, king of Madra's distant land, Princes from Avanti's regions, chiefs from Malav's rocky strand, Jayadratha, matchless fighter, king of Sindhu's sounding shore, Chetrasena and Vikarna, countless chiefs and warriors more! And they faced the fiery Pandavs, peerless in their warlike might, Long and dreadful raged the combat, darkly closed the dubious fight, Dust arose like clouds of summer, glistening darts like lightning played, Darksome grew the sky with arrows, thicker grew the gloomy shade, Cars went down and mailéd horsemen, soldiers fell in dread array, Elephants with white tusks broken and with mangled bodies lay! Arjun and the stalwart Bhima, piercing through their countless foes, Side by side impelled their chariots, where the palm-tree standard rose! Where the peerless ancient Bhishma on that dark and fatal day, Warring with the banded nations, still resistless held his way! On he came, his palm-tree standard still the front of battle knew, And like sun from dark clouds parting Bhishma burst on Arjun's view! And his eyes brave Arjun shaded at the awe-inspiring sight, Half he wished to turn for shelter from that chief of godlike might! But bold Krishna drove his chariot, whispered unto him his plan, Arjun placed the young Sikhandin in the deathful battle's van! Bhishma viewed the Pandav forces with a calm unmoving face, Saw not Arjun's fair _gandiva_, saw not Bhima's mighty mace, Smiled to see the young Sikhandin rushing to the battle's fore, Like the foam upon the billow when the mighty storm-winds roar! Bhishma thought of word he plighted and of oath that he had sworn, Dropped his arms before the warrior who was but a female born! And the standard which no warrior ever saw in base retreat, Idly stood upon the chariot, threw its shade on Bhishma's seat! And the flagstaff fell dissevered on the crushed and broken car, As from azure sky of midnight falls the meteor's flaming star! Not by young Sikhandin's arrows Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell, Not Sikhandin's feeble lances did the peerless Bhishma quell, True to oath the bleeding chieftan turned his darkening face away, Turned and fell; the sun declining marked the closing of the day. Ended thus the fatal battle, truce came with the close of day, Kurus and the silent Pandavs went where Bhishma dying lay, Arjun wept as for a father weeps a sad and sorrowing son, Good Yudhishthir cursed the morning Kuru-kshetra's war begun, Stood Duryodhan and his brothers mantled in the gloom of grief, Foes like loving brothers sorrowed round the great the dying chief! Arjun's keen and pointed arrows made the hero's dying bed, And in soft and gentle accents to Duryodhan thus he said: "List unto my words, Duryodhan, uttered with my latest breath, List to Bhishma's dying counsel and revere the voice of death! End this dread and deathful battle if thy stony heart can grieve, Save the chieftains doomed to slaughter, bid the fated nations live! Grant his kingdom to Yudhishthir, righteous man beloved of Heaven, Keep thy own Hastina's regions, be the hapless past forgiven!" Vain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like the voice of angel spoke, Hatred dearer than his life-blood in the proud Duryodhan woke! Darker grew the gloomy midnight, and the princes went their way, On his bed of pointed arrows Bhishma lone and dying lay, Karna, though he loved not Bhishma whilst the chieftain lived in fame, Gently to the dying Bhishma in the midnight darkness came! Bhishma heard the tread of Karna, and he oped his glazing eye, Spake in love and spake in sadness, and his bosom heaved a sigh: "Pride and envy, noble Karna, filled our warlike hearts with strife, Discord ends with breath departing, envy sinks with fleeting life! More I have to tell thee, Karna, but my parting breath may fail, Feeble are my dying accents, and my parchéd lips are pale! Arjun beats not noble Karna in the deeds of valour done, Nor excels in birth and lineage, Karna, thou art Pritha's son! Pritha bore thee, still unwedded, and the Sun inspired thy birth, God-born man! No mightier archer treads this broad and spacious earth! Pritha cast thee in her sorrow, hid thee with a maiden's shame, And a driver, not thy father, nursed thee, chief of warlike fame! Arjun is thy brother, Karna, end this sad fraternal war, Seek not life-blood of thy brother, nor against him drive thy car!" Vain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like a heavenly warning spoke, Hatred dearer than his life-blood in the vengeful Karna woke! BOOK IX DRONA-BADHA (Fall of Drona) On the fall of Bhishma the Brahman chief Drona, preceptor of the Kuru and Pandav princes, was appointed the leader of the Kuru forces. For five days Drona held his own against the Pandavs, and some of the incidents of these days, like the fall of Abhimanyu and the vengeance of Arjun, are among the most stirring passages in the Epic. The description of the different standards of the Pandav and the Kuru warriors is also interesting. At last Drona slew his ancient foe the king of the Panchalas, and was then slain by his son the prince of the Panchalas. The Book is an abridgment of Book vii. of the original text. I Single Combat between Bhima and Salya Morning ushered in the battle; Pandav warriors heard with dread Drona priest and proud preceptor now the Kuru forces led, And the foe-compelling Drona pledged his troth and solemn word, He would take Yudhishthir captive to Hastina's haughty lord! But the ever faithful Arjun to his virtuous elder bowed, And in clear and manful accents spake his warlike thoughts aloud: "Sacred is our great preceptor, sacred is _acharya's_ life, Arjun may not slay his teacher even in this mortal strife! Saving this, command, O monarch, Arjun's bow and warlike sword, For thy safety, honoured elder, Arjun stakes his plighted word! Matchless in the art of battle is our teacher fierce and dread, But he comes not to Yudhishthir save o'er blood of Arjun shed!" Morning witnessed doughty Drona foremost in the battle's tide, But Yudhishthir's warlike chieftains compassed him on every side, Foremost of the youthful chieftains came resistless Arjun's son,-- Father's blood and milk of mother fired his deeds of valour done, As the lion of the jungle drags the ox into his lair, Abhimanyu from his chariot dragged Paurava by the hair! Jayadratha king of Sindhu marked the faint and bleeding chief, Leaping from his car of battle, wrathful came to his relief, Abhimanyu left his captive, turned upon the mightier foe, And with sword and hardened buckler gave and parried many a blow, Rank to rank from both the forces cry of admiration rose, Streaming men poured forth in wonder, watched the combat fierce and close! Piercing Abhimanyu's buckler Jayadratha sent his stroke, But the turned and twisted sword-blade snapping in the midway broke, Weaponless the king of Sindhu ran into his sheltering car, Salya came unto his rescue from a battle-field afar, Dauntless, on the new assailant, Arjun's son his weapon drew, Interposing 'twixt the fighters Bhima's self on Salya flew! Stoutest wrestlers in the armies, peerless fighters with the mace, Bhima and the stalwart Salya stood opposéd face to face! Hempen fastening bound their maces and the wire of twisted gold, Whirling bright in circling flashes, shook their staff the warriors bold! Oft they struck, and sparks of red fire issued from the seasoned wood, And like hornéd bulls infuriate Madra's king and Bhima stood! Closer still they came like tigers closing with their reddened paws, Or like tuskers with their red tusks, eagles with their rending claws! Loud as INDRA'S peals of thunder still their blows were echoed round Rank to rank the startled soldiers heard the oft-repeated sound! But as strikes in vain the lightning on the solid mountain-rock, Bhima nor the fearless Salya fell or moved beneath the shock! Closer drew the watchful heroes, and their clubs were wielded well, Till by many blows belaboured both the fainting fighters fell! Like a drunkard dazed and reeling Bhima rose his staff to wield, Senseless Salya, heavy-breathing, henchman carried from the field, Writhing like a wounded serpent, lifted from the field of war, He was carried by his soldiers to the shelter of his car! Drona still with matchless prowess would redeem his plighted word, Sought to take Yudhishthir captive to Duryodhan, Kuru's lord, Vainly then the twin-born brothers came to cross the conqueror's path, Matsya's lord, Panchala's monarch, vainly faced him in his wrath, Rank to rank the cry resounded circling o'er the battle-field, "Drona takes Yudhishthir captive with his weapons, sword and shield!" Arjun heard the dreadful message and in haste and fury came, Strove to save his king and elder and redeem his loyal fame, Speeding with his milk-white coursers dashed into the thick of war, Blew his shrill and dreaded _sankha_, drove his sounding battle-car, Fiercer, darker grew the battle, when above the reddened plain, Evening drew her peaceful mantle o'er the living and the slain! II Standards of the Pandavs Morning came; still round Yudhishthir Drona led the gathering war, Arjun fought the Sam-saptakas in the battle-field afar, But the prince of fair Panchala marked his father's ancient foe, And against the doughty Drona, Dhrishta-dyumna bent his bow! But as darksome cloudy masses angry gusts of storm divide, Through the scattered fainting foemen Drona drove his car in pride, Steeds went down and riven chariots, young Panchala turned and fled, Onward drove resistless Drona o'er the dying and the dead! One more prince of fair Panchala 'gainst the mighty Drona came,-- Ancient feud ran in the red blood of Panchala's chiefs of fame,-- Fated youth! with reckless valour still he fought his father's foe, Fought and fell; relentless Drona laid the brave Satyajit low! Surging still like ocean's billows other Pandav warriors came, To protect their virtuous monarch and redeem their ancient fame, Came in various battle-chariots drawn by steeds of every hue, Various were the chieftains' standards which the warring nations knew! Bhima drove his stalwart horses tinted like the dappled deer, Grey and pigeon-coloured coursers bore Panchala's prince and peer, Horses bred in famed Kamboja, fiery, parrot-green in hue, Brave Nakula's sumptuous chariot in the deathful battle drew, Piebald horses trained to battle did young Sahadeva rein, Ivory-white Yudhishthir's coursers with their flowing ebon mane, And by him with gold umbrella valiant monarch Drupad came, Horses of a bright-bay colour carried Matsya's king of fame. Varied as their various coursers gallantly their standards rose, With their wondrous strange devices, terror of their arméd foes! Water-jar on tawny deerskin, such was Drona's sign of war,-- Drona as a tender infant rested in a water-jar, Golden moon with stars surrounding was Yudhishthir's sign of yore, Silver lion was the standard tiger-waisted Bhima bore, Brave Nakula's sign was red deer with its back of burnished gold, Silver swan with bells resounding Sahadeva's onset told, Golden peacock rich-emblazoned was young Abhimanyu's joy, Vulture shone on Ghatotkacha, Bhima's proud and gallant boy. Now Duryodhan marked the foemen heaving like the rising tide, And he faced the wrathful Bhima towering in his tameless pride, Short the war, for proud Duryodhan wounded from the battle fled, And his warriors from fair Anga rested with the countless dead! Wild with anger Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East, With his still unconquered forces on the valiant Bhima pressed, Came from far the wrathful Arjun and the battle's front he sought, Where by eastern foes surrounded still the stalwart Bhima fought! Fated monarch from the far-east Brahma-putra's sounding shore, Land of rising sun will hail him and his noble peers no more, For his tusker pierced by arrows trumpeted his dying wail, Like a red and flaming meteor gallant Bhagadatta fell! Then with rising wrath and anguish Karna's noble bosom bled,-- Karna, who had stayed from battle while his rival Bhishma led, Ancient hate and jealous anger clouded Karna's warlike heart, And while Bhishma led, all idly slumbered Karna's bow and dart! Now he marked with warrior's anguish all his comrades fled afar, And his foeman Arjun sweeping o'er the red field of the war! Hatred like a tongue of red fire shot from Karna's flaming eye, And he sprang to meet his foeman or to conquer or to die! Fierce and dubious was the battle, answering clouds gave back the din, Karna met his dearest foeman and, alas! his nearest kin! Bhima and Panchala's warriors unto Arjun's rescue came, Proud Duryodhan came to Karna, and fair Sindhu's king of fame! Fiercely raged the gory combat, when the night its shadows threw, Wounded men and blood-stained chieftains to their nightly tents withdrew! III Abhimanyu's Death Fatal was the blood-red morning purpling o'er the angry east, Fatal day for Abhimanyu, bravest warrior and the best, Countless were the gallant chieftains like the sands beside the sea, None with braver bosom battled, none with hands more stout and free! Brief, alas! thy radiant summers, fair Subhadra's gallant boy, Loved of Matsya's soft-eyed princess and her young heart's pride and joy! Brief, alas! thy sunlit winters, light of war too early quenched, Peerless son of peerless Arjun, in the blood of foemen drenched! Drona on that fatal morning ranged his dreadful battle-line In a circle darkly spreading where the chiefs with chiefs combine, And the Pandavs looked despairing on the battle's dread array, Vainly strove to force a passage, vainly sought their onward way! Abhimanyu, young and fiery, dashed alone into the war, Reckless through the shattered forces all resistless drove his car, Elephants and crashing standards, neighing steeds and warriors slain Fell before the furious hero as he made a ghastly lane! Proud Duryodhan rushed to battle, strove to stop the turning tide, And his stoutest truest warriors fought by proud Duryodhan's side, Onward still went Abhimanyu, Kurus strove and fought in vain, Backward reeled and fell Duryodhan and his bravest chiefs were slain! Next came Salya car-borne monarch 'gainst the young resistless foe, Urged his fiery battle-coursers, stretched his dread unerring bow, Onward still went Abhimanyu, Salya strove and fought in vain, And his warriors took him bleeding from the reddened battle-plain! Next Duhsasan darkly lowering thundered with his bended bow, Abhimanyu smiled to see him, kinsman and the dearest foe, "Art thou he," said Abhimanyu, "known for cruel word and deed, Impious in thy heart and purpose, base and ruthless in thy greed? Didst thou with the false Sakuni win a realm by low device, Win his kingdom from Yudhishthir by ignoble trick of dice? Didst thou in the council chamber with your insults foul and keen By her flowing raven tresses drag Yudhishthir's stainless queen? Didst thou speak to warlike Bhima as thy serf and bounden slave, Wrong my father, righteous Arjun, peerless prince and warrior brave? Welcome! I have sought thee often, wished to cross thy tainted path, Welcome! Dearest of all victims to my nursed and cherished wrath! Reap the meed of sin and insult, draw on earth thy latest breath, For I owe to Queen Draupadi, impious prince, thy speedy death!" Like a snake upon an ant-hill, on Duhsasan's wicked heart, Fell with hissing wrath and fury Abhimanyu's fiery dart! From the loss of blood Duhsasan fainted on his battle-car, Kuru chieftains bore him senseless from the blood-stained scene of war! Next in gleaming arms accoutred came Duryodhan's gallant son, Proud and warlike as his father, famed for deeds of valour done, Young in years and rich in valour, for alas! he fought too well, And before his weeping father proud and gallant Lakshman fell! Onward still went Abhimanyu midst the dying and the dead, Shook from rank to rank the Kurus and their shattered army fled! Then the impious Jayadratha, king of Sindhu's sounding shore, Came forth in unrighteous concert with six car-borne warriors more, Darkly closed the fatal circle with the gulfing surge's moan, Dauntless, with the seven brave chieftains Abhimanyu fought alone! Fell, alas! his peacock standard and his car was broke in twain, Bow and sabre rent and shattered and his faithful driver slain, Heedless yet of death and danger, misty with the loss of blood, Abhimanyu wiped his forehead, gazed where dark his foemen stood! Then with wild despairing valour, flickering flame and closing life, Mace in hand the heedless warrior rushed to end the mortal strife, Rushed upon his startled foemen, Abhimanyu fought and fell, And his deeds to distant ages bards and wand'ring minstrels tell! Like a tusker of the forest by surrounding hunters slain, Like a wood-consuming wildfire quenched upon the distant plain, Like a mountain-shaking tempest, spent in force and hushed and still, Like the red resplendent day-god setting on the western hill, Like the moon serene and beauteous quenched in eclipse, dark and pale, Lifeless slumbered Abhimanyu when the softened starlight fell! Done the day of death and slaughter, darkening shadows close around, Wearied warriors seek for shelter on the vast and tented ground, Soldiers' camp-fires brightly blazing, tent-lights shining from afar, Cast their fitful gleam and radiance on the carnage of the war! Arjun from a field at distance, where upon that day he fought, With the ever faithful Krishna now his nightly shelter sought, "Wherefore, Krishna," uttered Arjun, "evil omens strike my eye, Thoughts of sadness fill my bosom, wake the long-forgotten sigh? Wherefore voice of evening bugle speaks not on the battle-field, Merry conch nor sounding trumpet music to the warriors yield? Harp is hushed within the dark tents and the voice of warlike song, Bards beside the evening camp-fire tales of war do not prolong! Good Yudhishthir's tent is voiceless, and my brothers look so pale, Abhimanyu comes not joyous Krishna and his sire to hail! Abhimanyu's love and greeting bless like blessings from above, Fair Subhadra's joy and treasure, Arjun's pride and hope and love!" Softly and with many tear-drops did the sad Yudhishthir tell, How in dreadful field of battle gallant Abhimanyu fell! How the impious Jayadratha fell on Arjun's youthful son,-- He with six proud Kuru chieftains,--Abhimanyu all alone! How the young prince, reft of weapon and deprived of steed and car, Fell as falls a Kshatra warrior fighting on the field of war! Arjun heard; the father's bosom felt the cruel cureless wound, "Brave and gallant boy!" said Arjun;--and he sank upon the ground! Moments passed of voiceless sorrow and of speechless bitter tear, Sobs within his mailéd bosom smote the weeping listener's ear! Moments passed; with rising anger quivered Arjun's iron frame, Abhimanyu's cruel murder smote the father's heart to flame! "Didst thou say that Sindhu's monarch on my Abhimanyu bore,-- He alone,--and Jayadratha leagued with six marauders more? Didst thou say the impious Kurus stooped unto this deed of shame, Outrage on the laws of honour, stain upon a warrior's fame? Father's curse and warrior's hatred sting them to their dying breath, For they feared my boy in battle, hunted him to cruel death, Hear my vow, benign Yudhishthir, hear me, Krishna righteous lord, Arjun's hand shall slay the slayer, Arjun plights his solemn word! May I never reach the bright sky where the righteous fathers dwell, May I with the darkest sinners live within the deepest hell,-- With the men who slay their fathers, shed their loving mothers' blood, Stain the sacred bed of _gurus_, steal their gold and holy food, Cherish envy, cheat their kinsmen, speak the low and dastard lie,-- If, ere comes to-morrow's sunset, Jayadratha doth not die! Jayadratha dies to-morrow, victim to my vengeful ire, Arjun else shall yield his weapons, perish on the flaming pyre!" Softer tear-drops wept the mother, joyless was Subhadra's life,-- Krishna's fair and honoured sister, Arjun's dear and lovéd wife: "Dost thou lie on field of battle smeared with dust and foeman's gore, Child of light and love and sweetness whom thy hapless mother bore? Soft thine eye as budding lotus, sweet and gentle was thy face, Are those soft eyes closed in slumber, faded in that peerless grace? And thy limbs so young and tender, on the bare earth do they lie, Where the hungry jackal prowleth and the vulture flutters nigh? Gold and jewels graced thy bosom, gems bedecked thy lofty crest, Doth the crimson mark of sabre decorate that manly breast? Rend Subhadra's stony bosom with a mother's cureless grief, Let her follow Abhimanyu and in death obtain relief! Earth to me is void and cheerless, joyless in my hearth and home, Dreary without Abhimanyu is this weary world to roam! And oh! cheerless is that young heart, Abhimanyu's princess-wife, What can sad Subhadra offer to her joyless sunless life? Close our life in equal darkness, for our day on earth is done, For our love and light and treasure, Abhimanyu, dead and gone!" Long bewailed the anguished mother, fair Draupadi tore her hair, Matsya's princess, early widowed, shed her young heart's blood in tear! IV Standards of the Kurus: Arjun's Revenge Morning from the face of battle night's depending curtain drew, Long and shrill his sounding _sankha_ then the wrathful Arjun blew, Kurus knew the vow of Arjun, heard the _sankha's_ deathful blare, As it rose above the red field, thrilled the startled morning air! "Speed, my Krishna," out spake Arjun, as he held aloft his bow, "For to-day my task is dreadful, cruel is my mighty vow!" Fiery coursers urged by Krishna flew with lightning's rapid course, Dashing through the hostile warriors and the serried Kuru force! Brave Durmarsan faced the hero, but he strove and fought in vain, Onward thundered Arjun's chariot o'er the dying and the slain! Fierce Duhsasan with his tuskers rushed into the fine of war, But the tuskers broke in panic, onward still went Arjun's car! Drona then, the proud preceptor, Arjun's furious progress stayed, Tear-drops filled the eye of Arjun as these gentle words he said: "Pardon, father! if thy pupil shuns to-day thy offered war, 'Gainst his Abhimanyu's slayer Arjun speeds his battle-car! Not against my great _acharya_ is my wrathful bow-string drawn, Not against a lovéd father fights a loving duteous son! Heavy on this bleeding bosom sits the darkening load of woe, And an injured father's vengeance seeks the slaughtered hero's foe! Pardon then if sorrowing Arjun seeks a far and distant way, Mighty is the vow of Arjun, cruel is his task to-day!" Passing by the doughty Drona onward sped the fiery car, Through the broken line of warriors, through the shattered ranks of war, Angas and the brave Kalingas vainly crossed his wrathful way, Proud Avantis from the regions where fair Chambal's waters stray! Famed Avanti's fated princes vainly led their highland force, Fell beneath the wrath of Arjun, stayed nor stopped his onward course, Onward still with speed of lightning thundered Arjun's battle-car, To the spot where Jayadratha stood behind the ranks of war! Now the sun from highest zenith red and fiery radiance lent, Long and weary was the passage, Arjun's foaming steeds were spent, "Arjun!" said the faithful Krishna, "arduous is thy cruel quest, But thy foaming coursers falter and they need a moment's rest," "Be it so," brave Arjun answered, "from our chariot we alight, Rest awhile the weary horses, Krishna, I will watch the fight!" Speaking thus the arméd Arjun lightly leaped upon the lea, Stood on guard with bow and arrow by the green and shady tree, Krishna groomed the jaded horses, faint and feeble, red with gore, With a healing hand he tended wounds the bleeding coursers bore, Watered them beside a river by the zephyrs soft caressed, Gave unto them welcome fodder, gave unto them needful rest, Thus refreshed, the noble coursers Krishna harnessed to the car, And the gleaming helméd Arjun rushed once more into the war! Came on him the Kuru warriors, darksome wave succeeding wave, Standards decked with strange devices, streaming banners rich and brave, Foremost was the glorious standard of preceptor Drona's son, Lion's tail in golden brilliance on his battle-chariot shone, Elephant's rope was Karna's ensign made of rich and burnished gold, And a bull bedecked the standard of the bowman Kripa bold, Peacock made of precious metal, decked with jewels rich and rare, Vrishasena's noble standard shone aloft serene and fair, Ploughshare of a golden lustre shining like the radiant flame, Spoke the car of mighty Salya, Madra's king of warlike fame, Far, and guarded well by chieftains, shone the dazzling silver-boar, Ensign proud of Jayadratha, brought from Sindhu's sounding shore, On the car of Somadatta shone a stake of sacrifice, Silver-boar and golden parrots, these were Salwa's proud device, Last and brightest of the standards, on the prince Duryodhan's car, Lordly elephant in jewels proudly shone above the war! Nine heroic Kuru chieftains, bravest warriors and the best, Leagued they came to grapple Arjun and on faithful Krishna pressed! Arjun swept like sweeping whirlwind, all resistless in his force, Sought no foe and waged no combat, held his ever onward course! For he sighted Jayadratha midst the circling chiefs of war, 'Gainst that warrior, grim and silent, Arjun drove his furious car! Now the day-god rolled his chariot on the western clouds aflame, Karna's self and five great chieftains round brave Jayadratha came, Vainly strove the valiant Arjun struggling 'gainst the Kuru line, Charged upon the peerless Karna as he marked the day's decline, Krishna then a prayer whispered; came a friendly sable cloud, Veiled the red sun's dazzling brilliance in a dark and inky shroud! Karna deemed the evening darkness now proclaimed the close of strife, Failing in his plighted promise Arjun must surrender life, And his comrade chiefs rejoicing slackened in their furious fight, Jayadratha hailed with gladness thickening shades of welcome night! In that sad and fatal error did the Kuru chiefs combine, Arjun quick as bolt of lightning broke their all unguarded line, Like an onward sweeping wildfire shooting forth its lolling tongue, On the startled Jayadratha Arjun in his fury flung! Short the strife; as angry falcon swoops upon its helpless prey, Arjun sped his vengeful arrow and his foeman lifeless lay! Friendly winds removed the dark cloud from the reddening western hill, And the sun in crimson lustre cast its fiery radiance still! Ere the evening's mantling darkness fell o'er distant hill and plain, Proud Duryodhan's many brothers were by vengeful Bhima slain, And Duryodhan, stung by sorrow, waged the still unceasing fight, In the thick and gathering darkness torches lit the gloom of night! Karna, furious in his anger for his Jayadratha slain, And for brothers of Duryodhan sleeping lifeless on the plain, 'Gainst the gallant son of Bhima drove his deep resounding car, And in gloom and midnight darkness waked the echoes of the war! Bhima's son brave Ghatotkacha twice proud Karna's horses slew, Twice the humbled steedless Karna from the dubious battle flew, Came again the fiery Karna, vengeance flamed within his heart, Like the midnight's lurid lightning sped his fell and fatal dart, Woeful was the hour of darkness, luckless was the starry sway, Bhima's son in youth and valour lifeless on the red field lay! Then was closed the midnight battle, silent shone the starry light, Bhima knew nor rest nor slumber through the long and woeful night! V Fall of Drona Ere the crimson morning glittered proud Duryodhan sad at heart, To the leader of the Kurus did his sorrows thus impart: "Sadly speeds the contest, Drona, on the battle's gory plain, Kuru chiefs are thinned and fallen and my brothers mostly slain! Can it be, O beat of Brahmans! peerless in the art of war, Can it be that we shall falter while thou speed'st the battle-car? Pandu's sons are but thy pupils, Arjun meets thee not in fight, None can face the great _acharya_ in his wrath and warlike might! Wherefore then in every battle are the Kuru chieftains slain, Wherefore lie my warlike brothers lifeless on the ghastly plain? Is it that the fates of battle 'gainst the Kuru house combine, Is it that thy heart's affection unto Panda's sons incline? If thy secret love and mercy still the sons of Pandu claim, Yield thy place to gallant Karna, Anga's prince of warlike fame!" Answered Drona brief and wrathful: "Fair Gandhari's royal son, Reapest thou the gory harvest of thy sinful actions done! Cast no blame in youth's presumption on a warrior's fleecy hair, Faithful unto death is Drona, to his promise plighted fair! Ask thyself, O prince Duryodhan! bound by battle's sacred laws, Wherefore fightest not with Arjun for thy house and for thy cause? Ask the dark and deep Sakuni, where is now his low device, Wherefore wields he not his weapon as he wields the loaded dice? Ask the chief who proudly boasted, archer Arjun he would slay, Helméd Arjun sways the battle, whither now doth Karna stay? Know the truth; the gallant Arjun hath no peer on earth below, And no warrior breathes, Duryodhan, who can face thy helméd foe! Drona knows his sacred duty; and 'tis willed by Heaven on high, Arjun or preceptor Drona shall in this day's battle die!" Now the Sun in crimson splendour rolled his car of glistening gold, Sent his shafts of purple radiance on the plain and mountain bold, And from elephant and charger, from each bravely bannered car, Lighted mailéd kings and chieftains and the leaders of the war, Faced the sun with hands conjoinéd and the sacred _mantra_ told,-- Hymns by ancient _rishis_ chanted, sanctified by bards of old! Worship done, each silent warrior mounts the car or battle-steed, Onward to the deathful contest did his gallant forces lead, Ill it fared with Pandav forces, doughty Drona took the field, Peer was none midst living warriors of the Brahman trained and skilled! Arjun, faithful to his promise, his preceptor would not fight, King nor chief nor other archer dared to face his peerless might, But old feud like potent poison fires the warrior's heart with strife, Sire to son still unforgotten leaps the hate from death to life! Wrathful princes of Panchala by their deathless hatred stung, Saw their ancient foe in Drona and on him for vengeance sprung! Darkly thought the ancient warrior of the old relentless feud, Fiercely like a jungle-tiger fell upon the hostile brood, Royal Drupad's valiant grandsons in their youth untimely slain, Victims of a deathless discord, pressed the gory battle-plain! Drupad pale with grief and anger marked his gallant grandsons dead And his army broken, routed, and his bravest chieftains fled, Filled with unforgotten hatred and with father's grief and pride, Rushed the king, and bold Virata charged by doughty Drupad's side! Rose a cry of nameless terror o'er the red and ghastly plain, Noble Drupad, brave Virata, lay among the countless slain! Burning tears the proud Draupadi wept for noble father killed, Maid and matron with their wailing fair Panchala's empire filled! Matsya's joyless, widowed princess, for her fate was early crost, Wept with added tears and anguish for her father loved and lost! Waged the war with fearful slaughter, Drona onward urged his way, Fate alone and battle's chances changed the fortunes of the day, Aswa-thaman, son of Drona, was a chief of peerless fame, And an elephant of battle bore that chieftain's warlike name, And that proud and lordly tusker, Bhima in his prowess slew, Rank to rank, from friend to foeman, then a garbled message flew: "Aswa-thaman son of Drona is by mighty Bhima slain!" Drona heard that fatal message, bent his anguished head in pain! "Speak Yudhishthir, soul of virtue!" thus the proud preceptor cried, "Thou in truth hast never faltered, and thy lips have never lied, Speak of valiant Aswa-thaman, Drona's hope and pride and joy, Hath he fallen in this battle, is he slain, my gallant boy? Feeble are the hands of Drona and his prowess quenched and gone, Fleecy are his ancient tresses and his earthly task is done!" Said Yudhishthir: "Lordly tusker, Aswa-thaman named, is dead," Drona heard but half the accents, feebly drooped his sinking head! Then the prince of fair Panchala swiftly drove across the plain, Marked his father's cruel slayer, marked his noble father slain! Dhrista-dyumna bent his weapon and his shaft was pointed well, And the priest and proud preceptor, peerless Drona lifeless fell! And the fatal day was ended, Kurus fled in abject fear, Arjun for his ancient teacher dropped a silent filial tear! BOOK X KARNA-BADHA (Fall of Karna) Karna was chosen as the leader of the Kuru forces after the death of Drona, and held his own for two days. The great contest between Karna and Arjun, long expected and long deferred, came on at last. It is the crowning incident of the Indian Epic, as the contest between Hector and Achilles is the crowning incident of the Iliad. With a truer artistic skill than that of Homer, the Indian poet represents Karna as equal to Arjun in strength and skill, and his defeat is only due to an accident. After the death of Karna, Salya led the Kuru troops on the eighteenth and last day of the war, and fell. A midnight slaughter in the Pandav camp, perpetrated by the vengeful son of Drona, concludes the war. Duryodhan, left wounded by Bhima, heard of the slaughter and died happy. Books viii., ix., and x. of the original have been abridged in this Book. I Karna and Arjun meet Sights of red and ghastly carnage day disclosed upon the plain, Mighty chiefs and countless warriors round the warlike Drona slain! Sad Duryodhan gazed in sorrow and the tear was in his eye, Till his glances fell on Karna and his warlike heart beat high! "Karna!" so exclaimed Duryodhan, "hero of resistless might, Thou alone canst serve the Kuru in this dread and dubious fight, Step forth, Kuru's chief and leader, mount thy sounding battle-car, Lead the still unconquered Kurus to the trophies of the war! Matchless was the ancient Bhishma in this famed and warlike land, But a weakness for Yudhishthir palsied Bhishma's slaying hand, Matchless too was doughty Drona in the warrior's skill and art, Kindness for his pupil Arjun lurked within the teacher's heart! Greater than the ancient grandsire, greater than the Brahman old, Fiercer in thy deathless hatred, stronger in thy prowess bold, Peerless Karna! lead us onward to a brighter, happier fate, For thy arm is nerved to action by an unforgotten hate! Lead us as the martial SKANDA led the conquering gods of old, Smite the foe as angry INDRA smote the Danavs fierce and bold, As before the light of morning flies the baleful gloom of night, Pandavs and the proud Panchalas fly before thy conquering might!" Priests with hymns and chanted _mantra_ and with every sacred rite Hailed him Leader of the Kurus, chieftain of unconquered might, Earthen jars they placed around him with the sacred water full, Elephant's tusk they laid beside him and the horn of mighty bull, Gem and jewel, corn and produce, by the arméd hero laid, Silken cloth of finest lustre o'er his crested head they spread, Brahmans poured the holy water, bards his lofty praises sung, Kshatras, Vaisyas, purer Sudras hailed him Leader bold and strong! "Vanquish warlike sons of Pritha!" thus the holy Brahmans blessed, Gold and garments, food and cattle, joyous Karna on them pressed! Thus the holy rite concluded, Karna ranged his men in war, To the dreaded front of battle drove his swift and conquering car! Morn to noon and noon to evening raged the battle on the plain, Countless warriors fought and perished, car-borne chiefs were pierced and slain! Helméd Arjun, crested Karna, met at last by will of fate, Life-long was their mutual anger, deathless was their mutual hate! And the firm earth shook and trembled 'neath the furious rush of war, And the echoing welkin answered shouts that nations heard from far, And the thickening cloud of arrows filled the firmament on high, Darker, deeper, dread and deadlier, grew the angry face of sky, Till the evening's sable garment mantled o'er the battle-field, And the angry rivals parted, neither chief could win or yield! II Fall of Karna At the break of morning Karna unto Prince Duryodhan went, Thus in slow and measured accents to his inner thoughts gave vent: "Morning dawns, O Kuru's monarch! mighty Arjun shall be slain, Or fulfilling warrior's duty Karna dyes the gory plain! Long through life within our bosoms ever burnt the mutual hate, Oft we met and often parted, rescued by the will of fate! But yon sun with crimson lustre sees us meet to part no more, Gallant Arjun's course this evening or proud Karna's shall be o'er! Room is none for Arjun's glory and for archer Karna's fame, One must sink and one must sparkle with a brighter, richer flame! List yet more; in wealth of arrows and in wondrous strength of bow, Arjun scarcely me surpasseth, scarcely I excel my foe! In the light skill of the archer and in sight and truth of aim, Arjun beats not, scarcely rivals, Karna's proud and peerless fame! If his wondrous bow _gandiva_ is the gift of gods in heaven, Karna's bow the famed _vijaya_ is by Par'su-Rama given! Ay, the son of Jamadagni, kings of earth who proudly slayed, On the youthful arms of Karna his destructive weapon laid! Yet I own, O king of Kuru! Arjun doth his foe excel,-- Matchless are his fiery coursers, peerless Krishna leads them well! Krishna holds the reins for Arjun, Krishna speeds his battle-car, Drives the lightning-wingéd coursers o'er the startled field of war! Sweeps in pride his sounding chariot till it almost seems to fly, Arjun lords it o'er the battle like the comet in the sky! Grant me, monarch, mighty Salya drive my swift and warlike steed, And against the car-borne Arjun, Karna's fiery chariot lead! Salya too is skilled, like Krishna, with the steed and battle-car, Equal thus I meet my foeman in this last and fatal war!" Spake Duryodhan; warlike Salya mounted Karna's sounding car, Karna sought for mighty Arjun in the serried ranks of war: "Hundred milch-kine Karna offers, costly garment, yellow gold, Unto him who in this battle points to me my foeman bold! Cars and steeds and fertile acres, peaceful hamlets rich and fair, Dark-eyed damsels lotus-bosomed, crowned with glossy raven hair, These are his who points to Karna, Arjun hiding from this war, Arjun's snowy steeds and banner and his swift and thund'ring car!" Karna spake, but long and loudly laughed the king of Madra's land, As he reined the fiery coursers with his strong and skilful hand, "Of rewards and gifts," he uttered, "little need is there, I ween, Arjun is not wont to tarry from the battle's glorious scene! Soon will Arjun's snowy coursers shake the battle's startled field, Helméd Arjun like a comet gleam with bow and sword and shield! As the forest-ranging tiger springs upon his fated prey, As the hornéd bull, infuriate, doth the weakling cattle slay, As the fierce and lordly lion smites the timid jungle-deer, Arjun soon shall spring upon thee, for he knows nor dread nor fear, Save thee then, O mighty archer! while I drive my sounding car, Pandu's son hath met no equal in the valiant art of war!" Darkly frowned the angry Karna, Salya held the loosened rein, Dashing through the hostile forces then the warrior sped amain, Through the serried ranks of battle Karna drove in furious mood, Facing him in royal splendour good Yudhishthir fearless stood! Surging ranks of brave Nishadas closed between and fought in vain, Proud Panchalas, stout and faithful, vainly strove among the slain, Onward came the fiery Karna like the ocean's heaving swell, With the sweeping wrath of tempest on the good Yudhishthir fell! Wrathful then the son of Pandu marked his noblest chieftains dead, And in words of scornful anger thus to archer Karna said: "Hast thou, Karna, vowed the slaughter of my younger Arjun brave? Wilt thou do Duryodhan's mandate, proud Duryodhan's willing slave? Unfulfilled thy vow remaineth, for the righteous gods ordain, By Yudhishthir's hand thou fallest, go and slumber with the slain!" Fiercely drew his bow Yudhishthir, fiercely was the arrow driven, Rocky cliff or solid mountain might the shaft have pierced and riven! Lightning-like it came on Karna, struck and pierced him on the left, And the warrior fell and fainted as of life and sense bereft! Soon he rose; the cloud of anger darkened o'er his livid face, And he drew his godlike weapon with a more than human grace! Arrows keen and dark as midnight, gleaming in their lightning flight, Struck Yudhishthir's royal armour with a fierce resistless might! Clanking fell the shattered armour from his person fair and pale, As from sun's meridian splendour clouds are drifted by the gale! Armourless but bright and radiant brave Yudhishthir waged the fight, Bright as sky with stars bespangled on a clear and cloudless night! And he threw his pointed lances like the summer's bursting flood, Once again Yudhishthir's weapons drank his fiery foeman's blood! Pale with anguish, wrathful Karna fiercely turned the tide of war, Cut Yudhishthir's royal standard, crashed his sumptuous battle-car, And he urged his gallant coursers till his chariot bounding flew, And with more than godlike prowess then his famed _vijaya_ drew! Faint Yudhishthir sorely bleeding waged no more the fatal fight, Carless, steedless, void of armour, sought his safety in his flight! "Speed, thou timid man of penance!" proud insulting Karna said, "Famed for virtue not for valour! blood of thine I will not shed! Speed and chant thy wonted _mantra_, do the rites that sages know, Bid the helméd warrior Arjun come and meet his warlike foe!" To his tent retired Yudhishthir in his wrath and in his shame, Spake to Arjun who from battle to his angry elder came: "Hast thou yet, O tardy Arjun! base, insulting Karna slain, Karna dealing dire destruction on this battle's reddened plain? Like his teacher Par'su-Rama dyes in purple blood his course, Like a snake of deathful poison Karna guards the Kuru force! Karna smote my chariot-driver and my standard rent in twain, Shattered car and lifeless horses strew the red inglorious plain, Scarce with life in speechless anguish from the battle-field I fled, Scorn of foes and shame of kinsmen! Warrior's fame and honour dead! Ten long years and three Yudhishthir joy nor peace nor rest hath seen, And while Karna lives and glories, all our insults still are green, Hast thou, Arjun, slain that chieftain as in swelling pride he stood, Hast thou wiped our wrongs and insults in that chariot-driver's blood?" "At a distance," Krishna answered, "fiery Arjun fought his way, Now he meets the archer Karna, and he vows his death to-day." Anger lit Yudhishthir's forehead, and a tremor shook his frame, As he spake to silent Arjun words of insult and of shame: "Wherefore like a painted warrior doth the helméd Arjun stand, Wherefore useless lies _gandiva_ in his weak and nerveless hand, Wherefore hangs yon mighty sabre from his belt of silk and gold, Wherefore doth the peerless Krishna drive his coursers fleet and bold, If afar from war's arena timid Arjun seeks to hide, If he shuns the mighty Karna battling in unconquered pride? Arjun! yield thy famed _gandiva_ unto worthier hands than thine, On some braver, truer warrior let thy mighty standard shine, Yield thy helmet and thy armour, yield thy gleaming sword and shield, Hide thee from this deathful battle, matchless Karna rules the field!" Sparkled Arjun's eye in anger with a red and livid flame, And the tempest of his passion shook his more than mortal frame, Heedless, on the sword-hilt Arjun placed his swift and trembling hand, Heedless, with a warrior's instinct drew the dark and glistening brand! Sacred blood of king and elder would have stained his trenchant steel, But the wise and noble Krishna strove the fatal feud to heal: "Not before thy elder, Arjun, but in yonder purple field, 'Gainst thy rival and thy foeman use thy warlike sword and shield! Render honour to thy elder, quench thy hasty, impious wrath, Sin not 'gainst holy _sastra_, leave not virtue's sacred path! Bow before thy virtuous elder as before the gods in heaven, Sheathe thy sword and quell thy passion, be thy hasty sin forgiven!" Duteous Arjun silent listened and obeyed the mandate high, Tears of manly sorrow trickled from his soft and altered eye, Dear in joy and dear in suffering, calm his righteous elder stood, Dear in Indra-prastha's mansions, dearer in the jungle wood! Arjun sheathed his flashing sabre, joined his hands and hung his head, Fixed his eye on good Yudhishthir and in humble accents said: "Pardon, great and saintly monarch, vassal's disrespectful word, Pardon, elder, if a younger heedless drew his sinful sword! But thy hest to yield my weapon stung my soul to bitter strife, Dearer is the bow _gandiva_ unto Arjun than his life! Pardon if the blood of anger mantled o'er this rugged brow, Pardon if I drew my sabre 'gainst my duty and my vow! For that hasty act repenting Arjun bows unto thy feet, Grant me, gentle king and elder, brother's love, forgiveness sweet!" From Yudhishthir's altered eyelids gentle tears of sorrow start, And he lifts his younger brother to his ever-loving heart: "Arjun, I have wronged thee brother, and no fault or sin is thine, Hasty words of thoughtless anger 'scaped these sinful lips of mine! Bitter was my shame and anguish when from Karna's car I fled, Redder than my bleeding bosom warrior's fame and honour bled! Hasty words I uttered, Arjun, by my pain and anguish driven, Wipe them with a brother's kindness, be thy elder's sin forgiven!" Stronger by his elder's blessing, Arjun mounts the battle-car, Krishna drives the milk-white coursers to the thickening ranks of war! Onward came the fiery Karna with his chiefs and arméd men, Salya urged his flying coursers with the whip and loosened rein, Often met and often parted, life-long rivals in their fame, Not to part again, the heroes, each unto the other came, Not to part until a chieftain by the other chief was slain, Arjun dead or lifeless Karna, pressed the Kuru-kshetra plain! Long they strove, but neither archer could his gallant foeman beat, Though like surging ocean billows did the angry warriors meet, Arjun's arrows fell on Karna like the summer's angry flood, Karna's shafts like hissing serpents drank the valiant Arjun's blood! Fierce and quick from his _gandiva_ angry accents Arjun woke, Till the bow-string, strained and heated, was by sudden impulse broke! "Hold," cried Arjun to his rival, "mind the honoured rules of war, Warriors strike not helpless foemen thus disabled on the car, Hold, brave Karna, until Arjun mends his over-strainéd bow, Arjun then will crave for mercy nor from god nor mortal foe!" Vain he spake, for wild with anger heedless Karna, fiercely lowered, Thick and fast on bowless Arjun countless arrows darkly showered, Like the cobra, dark and hissing, Karna's gleaming lightning dart, Struck the helpless archer Arjun on his broad and bleeding heart! Furious like a wounded tiger quivering in the darksome wood, With his mended warlike weapon now the angry Arjun stood, Blazing with a mighty radiance like a flame in summer night, Fierce he fell on archer Karna with his more than mortal might! Little recked the dauntless Karna if his foe in anger rose, Karna feared not face of mortal, dreaded not immortal foes, Nor with all his wrath and valour Arjun conquered him in war, Till within the soft earth sinking stuck the wheel of Karna's car! Stood unmoved the tilted chariot, vainly wrathful Salya strove, Urging still the struggling coursers Karna's heavy car to move, Vainly too the gallant Karna leaped upon the humid soil, Sought to lift the sunken axle with a hard unwonted toil, "Hold," he cried to noble Arjun, "wage no false and impious war On a foeman, helpless, carless,--thou upon thy lofty car." Loudly laughed the helméd Arjun, answer nor rejoinder gave, Unto Karna pleading virtue Krishna answered calm and grave: "Didst thou seek the path of virtue, mighty Karna, archer bold, When Sakuni robbed Yudhishthir of his empire and his gold? Didst thou tread the path of honour on Yudhishthir's fatal fall, Heaping insults on Draupadi in Hastina's council hall? Didst thou then fulfil thy duty when, Yudhishthir's exile crost, Krishna asked in right and justice for Yudhishthir's empire lost? Didst thou fight a holy battle when with six marauders skilled, Karna hunted Abhimanyu and the youthful hero killed? Speak not then of rules of honour, blackened in your sins you die, Death is come in shape of Arjun, Karna's fatal hour is nigh!" Stung to fury and to madness, faint but frantic Karna fought, Reckless, ruthless, and relentless, valiant Arjun's life he sought, Sent his last resistless arrow on his foeman's mighty chest, Arjun felt a shock of thunder on his broad and mailéd breast! Fainting fell the bleeding Arjun, darkness dimmed his manly eye, Pale and breathless watched his warriors, anxious watched the gods in sky! Then it passed, and helméd Arjun rose like newly lighted fire, Abhimanyu's sad remembrance kindled fresh a father's ire! And he drew his bow _gandiva_, aimed his dart with stifled breath, Vengeance for his murdered hero winged the fatal dart of death! Like the fiery bolt of lightning Arjun's lurid arrow sped, Like the red and flaming meteor Karna fell among the dead! III Fall of Salya Darkly closed the shades of midnight, Karna still and lifeless lay, Ghast and pale o'er slaughtered thousands fell the morrow's sickly ray, Bowman brave and proud preceptor, Kripa to Duryodhan said, Tear bedimmed the warrior's eyelids and his manly bosom bled: "Leaderless the Kuru's forces, by a dire misfortune crost, Like the moonless shades of midnight in their utter darkness lost! Like a summer-driéd river, weary waste of arid sand, Lost its pride of fresh'ning waters sweeping o'er the grateful land! As a spark of fire consumeth summer's parched and sapless wood, Kuru's lordless, lifeless forces shall be angry Arjun's food! Bhima too will seek fulfilment of the dreadful vow he made, Brave Satyaki wreak his vengeance for his sons untimely slayed! Bid this battle cease, Duryodhan, pale and fitful is thy star, Blood enough of friendly nations soaks this crimson field of war! Bid them live,--the few survivors of a vast and countless host, Let thy few remaining brothers live,--for many are the lost! Kindly heart hath good Yudhishthir, still he seeks for rightful peace, Render back his ancient kingdom, bid this war of kinsmen cease!" "Kripa," so Duryodhan answered, "in this sad and fatal strife, Ever foremost of our warriors, ever careless of thy life, Ever in the council chamber thou hast words of wisdom said, Needless war and dire destruction by thy peaceful counsel stayed, Every word that 'scapes thee, Kripa, is a word of truth and weight, Nathless thy advice for concord, wise preceptor, comes too late! Hope not that the good Yudhishthir will again our friendship own, Cheated once by deep Sakuni of his kingdom and his throne, Rugged Bhima will not palter, fatal is the vow he made, Vengeful Arjun will not pardon gallant Abhimanyu dead! Fair Draupadi doth her penance, so our ancient matrons say, In our blood to wash her insult and her proud insulters slay, Fair Subhadra morn and evening weeps her dear departed son, Feeds Draupadi's deathless anger for the hero dead and gone, Deeply in their bosoms rankle wrongs and insults we have given, Blood alone can wash it, Kripa, such the cruel will of Heaven! And the hour for peace is over, for our best sleep on the plain, Brothers, kinsmen, friends, and elders slumber with the countless slain, Shall Duryodhan like a recreant now avoid the deathful strife, After all his bravest warriors have in war surrendered life? Shall he, sending them to slaughter, now survive and learn to flee, Shall he, ruler over monarchs, learn to bend the servile knee? Proud Duryodhan sues no favour even with his dying breath, Unsubdued and still unconquered, changeless even unto death! Salya, valiant king of Madra, leads our arméd hosts to-day, Or to perish or to conquer, gallant Kripa, lead the way!" Meanwhile round the brave Yudhishthir calmly stood the Pandav force, As the final day of battle now began its fatal course, "Brothers, kinsmen, hero-warriors," so the good Yudhishthir said, "Ye have done your share in battle, witness countless foemen dead, Sad Yudhishthir is your eldest, let him end this fatal strife, Slay the last of Kuru chieftains or surrender throne and life! Bold Satyaki, ever faithful, with his arms protects my right, Drupad's son with watchful valour guards my left with wonted might, In the front doth Bhima battle, careful Arjun guards the rear, I will lead the battle's centre which shall know nor flight nor fear!" Truly on that fatal morning brave Yudhishthir kept his word, Long and fiercely waged the combat with fair Madra's valiant lord, Thick and fast the arrows whistled and the lances pointed well, Crashing with the sound of thunder Salya's mighty standard fell! Rescued by the son of Drona, Salya rushed again to war, Slew the noble milk-white coursers of Yudhishthir's royal car, And as springs the hungry lion on the spotted jungle-deer, Salya rushed upon Yudhishthir reckless and unknown to fear! Brave Yudhishthir marked him coming and he hurled his fatal dart, Like the fatal curse of Brahman sank the weapon in his heart, Blood suffused his eye and nostril, quivered still his feeble hand, Like a cliff by thunder riven Salya fell and shook the land! Ended was the fatal battle, for the _mlechcha_ king was slain, Pierced by angry Sahadeva false Sakuni pressed the plain, All the brothers of Duryodhan tiger-waisted Bhima slew, Proud Duryodhan pale and panting from the field of battle flew! IV Night of Slaughter Far from battle's toil and slaughter, by a dark and limpid lake, Sad and slow and faint Duryodhan did his humble shelter take, But the valiant sons of Pandu, with the hunter's watchful care, Thither tracked their fallen foeman like a wild beast in its lair! "Gods be witness," said Duryodhan, flaming in his shame and wrath, "Boy to manhood ever hating we have crossed each other's path, Now we meet to part no longer, proud Duryodhan fights you all, Perish he, or sons of Pandu, may this evening see your fall!" Bhima answered: "For the insults long enduréd but not forgiven, Me alone you fight, Duryodhan, witness righteous gods in heaven! Call to mind the dark destruction planned of old in fiendish ire, In the halls of Varnavata to consume us in the fire! Call to mind the scheme deceitful, deep Sakuni's dark device, Cheating us of fame and empire by the trick of loaded dice! Call to mind that coward insult and the outrage foul and keen, Flung on Drupad's saintly daughter and our noble spotless queen! Call to mind the stainless Bhishma for thy sins and folly slain, Lifeless proud preceptor Drona, Karna lifeless on the plain! Perish in thy sins, Duryodhan, perish too thy hated name, And thy dark life crime-polluted ends, Duryodhan, in thy shame!" Like two bulls that fight in fury, blind with wounds and oozing blood, Like two wild and warring tuskers shaking all the echoing wood, Like the thunder-wielding INDRA, mighty YAMA dark and dread, Dauntless Bhima and Duryodhan fiercely strove and fought and bled! Sparks of fire shot from their maces and their faces ran with blood, Neither won and neither yielded, matched in strength the rivals stood, Then his vow remembered Bhima, and he raised his weapon high, With a foul attack but fatal Bhima broke Duryodhan's thigh! Through the sky a voice resounded as the great Duryodhan fell, And the earth the voice re-echoed o'er her distant hill and dale. Beasts and birds in consternation flew o'er land and azure sky, Men below and heavenly _Siddhas_ trembled at the fatal cry! Darkness fell upon the battle, proud Duryodhan dying lay, But the slaughter of the combat closed not with the closing day, Ancient feud and hatred linger after battle's sweeping flood, And the father's deathless anger courseth in the children's blood, Drona slept and gallant Drupad, for their earthly task was done, Vengeance fired the son of Drona 'gainst the royal Drupad's son! Sable shadows of the midnight fell o'er battle's silent plain, Faintly shone the fitful planets on the dying and the slain, And the vengeful son of Drona, fired by omens dark and dread, Stole into the tents of foemen with a soft and noiseless tread! Dhrista-dyumna and Sikhandin, princes of Panchala's land, Fell beneath the proud avenger Aswa-thaman's reeking hand, Ay! where Drupad's sleeping grandsons, fair Draupadi's children lay, Stole the cruel arm of vengeance, smothered them ere dawn of day! Done the ghastly work of slaughter, Aswa-thaman bent his way Where beside the limpid waters lone Duryodhan dying lay, And Duryodhan blessed the hero with his feeble fleeting breath, Joy of vengeance cheered his bosom and he died a happy death! BOOK XI SRADDHA (Funeral Rites) The death of Duryodhan concludes the war, and it is followed by the lament of women and the funerals of the deceased warriors. The passages translated in this Book form Section x., portions of Sections xvi., xvii., and xxvi., and the whole of Section xxvii. of Book xi. of the original text. I Kuru Women visit the Battle-field Spake the ancient Dhrita-rashtra, father of a hundred sons, Sonless now and sorrow-stricken, dark his ebbing life-tide runs! "Gods fulfil my life's last wishes! Henchmen, yoke my royal car, Dhrita-rashtra meets his princes in the silent field of war, Speed unto the Queen Gandhari, to the dames of Kuru's house, To each dear departed warrior wends his fair and faithful spouse!" Queen Gandhari sorrow-laden with the ancient Pritha came, And each weeping widowed princess and each wailing childless dame, And they saw the hoary monarch, father of a perished race, Fresh and loud awoke their sorrow, welling tears suffused their face, Good Vidura ever gentle whispered comfort unto all, Placed the dames within their chariots, left Hastina's palace hall! Loud the wail of woe and sorrow rose from every Kuru house, Children wept beside their mothers for each widowed royal spouse, Veiléd dwellers of the palace, scarce the gods their face had seen, Heedless now through mart and city sped each widowed childless queen, From their royal brow and bosom gem and jewel cast aside, Loose their robes and loose their tresses, quenched their haughty queenly pride! So when falls the antlered monarch, struck by woe and sudden fear Issuing from their snowy mountains listless stray the dappled deer, So upon the broad arena milk-white fillies brave the sun, Wildly toss their flowing tresses and in sad disorder run! Clinging to her weeping sister wept each dame in cureless pain, For the lord, the son or father in the deathful battle slain, Wept and smote her throbbing bosom and in bitter anguish wailed, Till her senses reeled in sorrow, till her woman's reason failed! Veiléd queens and bashful maidens, erst they shunned the public eye, Blush nor shame suffused their faces as they passed the city by, Gentle-bosomed, kindly hearted, erst they wiped each other's eye, Now by common sorrow laden none for sister heaved a sigh! With this troop of wailing women, deep in woe, disconsolate, Slow the monarch of the Kurus passed Hastina's outer gate, Men from stall and loom and anvil, men of every guild and trade, Left the city with the monarch, through the open country strayed, And a universal sorrow filled the air and answering sky, As when ends the mortal's _Yuga_ and the end of world is nigh! II Gandhari's Lament for the Slain Stainless Queen and stainless woman, ever righteous ever good, Stately in her mighty sorrow on the field Gandhari stood! Strewn with skulls and clotted tresses, darkened by the stream of gore, With the limbs of countless warriors was the red field covered o'er, Elephants and steeds of battle, car-borne chiefs untimely slain, Headless trunks and heads dissevered fill the red and ghastly plain! And the long-drawn howl of jackals o'er the scene of carnage rings, And the vulture and the raven flap their dark and loathsome wings, Feasting on the blood of warriors foul _pisachas_ fill the air, Viewless forms of hungry _rakshas_ limb from limb the corpses tear! Through this scene of death and carnage was the ancient monarch led, Kuru dames with faltering footsteps stepped amidst the countless dead, And a piercing wail of anguish burst upon the echoing plain, As they saw their sons or fathers, brothers, lords, amidst the slain, As they saw the wolves of jungle feed upon the destined prey, Darksome wanderers of the midnight prowling in the light of day! Shriek of pain and wail of anguish o'er the ghastly field resound, And their feeble footsteps falter and they sink upon the ground, Sense and life desert the mourners as they faint in common grief, Death-like swoon succeeding sorrow yields a moment's short relief! Then a mighty sigh of anguish from Gandhari's bosom broke, Gazing on her anguished daughters unto Krishna thus she spoke: "Mark my unconsoléd daughters, widowed queens of Kuru's house, Wailing for their dear departed, like the osprey for her spouse! How each cold and fading feature wakes in them a woman's love, How amidst the lifeless warriors still with restless steps they rove, Mothers hug their slaughtered children all unconscious in their sleep, Widows bend upon their husbands and in ceaseless sorrow weep! Mighty Bhishma, hath he fallen? quenched is archer Karna's pride? Drupad monarch of Panchala sleeps by foeman Drona's side? Shining mail and costly jewels, royal bangles strew the plain, Golden garlands rich and burnished deck the chiefs untimely slain, Lances hurled by stalwart fighters, clubs of mighty wrestlers killed, Swords and bows of ample measure, quivers still with arrows filled! Mark the unforgotten heroes, jungle prowlers 'mid them stray, On their brow and mailéd bosoms heedless perch the birds of prey! Mark they great unconquered heroes famed on earth from west to east, _Kankas_ perch upon their foreheads, hungry wolves upon them feast! Mark the kings, on softest cushion scarce the needed rest they found, Now they lie in peaceful slumber on the hard and reddened ground! Mark the youths who morn and evening listed to the minstrel's song, In their ear the loathsome jackal doth his doleful wail prolong! See the chieftains with their maces and their swords of trusty steel, Still they grasp their tried weapons,--do they still the life-pulse feel?" III Gandhari's Lament for Duryodhan Thus to Krishna, Queen Gandhari strove her woeful thoughts to tell, When alas! her wandering vision on her son Duryodhan fell, Sudden anguish smote her bosom and her senses seemed to stray, Like a tree by tempest shaken senseless on the earth she lay! Once again she waked in sorrow, once again she cast her eye Where her son in blood empurpled slept beneath the open sky, And she clasped her dear Duryodhan, held him close unto her breast, Sobs convulsive shook her bosom as the lifeless form she prest, And her tears like rains of summer fell and washed his noble head, Decked with garlands still untarnished, graced with _nishkas_ bright and red! "'Mother!' said my dear Duryodhan when he went unto the war, 'Wish me joy and wish me triumph as I mount the battle-car!' 'Son!' I said to dear Duryodhan, 'Heaven avert a cruel fate, _Yato dharma stato jayah!_ Triumph doth on Virtue wait!' But he set his heart on battle, by his valour wiped his sins, Now he dwells in realms celestial which the faithful warrior wins! And I weep not for Duryodhan, like a prince he fought and fell, But my sorrow-stricken husband, who can his misfortunes tell? Ay! my son was brave and princely, all resistless in the war, Now he sleeps the sleep of warriors, sunk in gloom his glorious star! Ay! My son mid crownéd monarchs held the first and foremost way, Now he rests upon the red earth, quenched his bright effulgent ray! Ay! my son the best of heroes, he hath won the warrior's sky, Kshatras nobly conquer, Krishna, when in war they nobly die! Hark the loathsome cry of jackals, how the wolves their vigils keep, Maidens rich in song and beauty erst were wont to watch his sleep! Hark the foul and blood-beaked vultures flap their wings upon the dead, Maidens waved their feathery _pankhas_ round Duryodhan's royal bed! Peerless bowman, mighty monarch! nations still his hests obeyed, As a lion slays a tiger, Bhima hath Duryodhan slayed! Thirteen years o'er Kuru's empire proud Duryodhan held his sway, Ruled Hastina's ancient city where fair Ganga's waters stray! I have seen his regal splendour with these ancient eyes of mine, Elephants and battle-chariots, steeds of war and herds of kine! Kuru owns another master and Duryodhan's day is fled, And I live to be a witness! Krishna, O that I were dead! Mark Duryodhan's noble widow, mother proud of Lakshman bold, Queenly in her youth and beauty, like an altar of bright gold! Torn from husband's sweet embraces, from her son's entwining arms, Doomed to life-long woe and anguish in her youth and in her charms! Rend my hard and stony bosom crushed beneath this cruel pain, Should Gandhari live to witness noble son and grandson slain? Mark again Duryodhan's widow, how she hugs his gory head, How with gentle hands and tender softly holds him on his bed! How from dear departed husband turns she to her dearer son, And the tear-drops of the mother choke the widow's bitter groan! Like the fibre of the lotus tender-golden is her frame, O my lotus! O my daughter! Bharat's pride and Kuru's fame! If the truth resides in _Vedas_, brave Duryodhan dwells above, Wherefore linger we in sadness severed from his cherished love? If the truth resides in _Sastra_, dwells in sky my hero son, For Gandhari and her daughter now their earthly task is done!" IV Funeral Rite Victor of a deathful battle, sad Yudhishthir viewed the plain, Friends and kinsmen, kings and chieftains, countless troops untimely slain, And he spake to wise Sudharman, pious priest of Kuru's race, Unto Sanjay, unto Dhaumya, to Vidura full of grace, Spake unto the brave Yuyutsu, Kuru's last surviving chief, Spake to faithful Indrasena, and to warriors sunk in grief: "Pious rites are due to foemen and to friends and kinsmen slain, None shall lack a fitting funeral, none shall perish on the plain." Wise Vidura and his comrades sped on sacred duty bound, Sandalwood and scented aloes, oil and _ghee_ and perfumes found, Silken robes of costly splendour, fabrics by the artist wove, Dry wood from the thorny jungle, perfume from the scented grove, Shattered cars and splintered lances, hewed and ready for the fire, Piled and ranged in perfect order into many a funeral pyre. Kings and princes, noble warriors, were in rank and order laid, And with streams of melted butter were the rich libations made, Blazed the fire with wondrous radiance by the rich libations fed, Sanctifying and consuming mortal remnants of the dead. Brave Duryodhan and his brothers, Salya of the mighty car, Bhurisravas king of nations, Jayadratha famed in war, Abhimanyu son of Arjun, Lakshman proud Duryodhan's son, Somadatta and the Srinjays famed for deeds of valour done, Matsya's monarch proud Virata, Drupad fair Panchala's king, And his sons, Panchala's princes, whose great deeds the minstrels sing, Cultured monarch of Kosala and Gandhara's wily lord, Karna, proud and peerless archer, matchless with his flaming sword, Bhagadatta eastern monarch, all resistless in his car, Ghatotkacha son of Bhima, Alambusha famed in war, And a hundred other monarchs all received the pious rite, Till the radiance of the fire-light chased the shadows of the night! _Pitri-medha_, due to fathers, was performed with pious care, Hymns and wails and lamentations mingled in the midnight air, Sacred songs of _rik_ and _saman_ rose with women's piercing wail, And the creatures of the wide earth heard the sound subdued and pale! Smokeless and with radiant lustre shone each red and lighted pyre, Like the planets of the bright sky throbbing with celestial fire! Countless myriads, nameless, friendless, from each court and camp afar, From the east and west collected, fell in Kuru-Kshetra's war, Thousand fires for them were lighted, they received the pious rite, Such was good Yudhishthir's mandate, such was wise Vidura's might, All the dead were burned to ashes and the sacred rite was o'er, Dhrita-rashtra and Yudhishthir slowly walked to Ganga's shore! V Oblation to Karna Sacred Ganga, ample-bosomed, sweeps along in regal pride, Rolling down her limpid waters through high banks on either side, Kuru dames and weeping widows thither in their anguish came Due and holy rites to render to departed chiefs of fame, Casting forth their jewelled girdles, gems and scarfs belaced with gold, Gave oblations of the water to each hero true and bold, Unto fathers, unto husbands, unto sons in battle slayed, Offerings of the sacred water sorrowing wives and mothers made. And so great the host of mourners wending to perform the rite, That their footsteps made a pathway in the sad and sacred site, And the shelving banks of Ganga peopled by the sorrowing train, Wide-expanding, vast and sealike, formed a scene of woe and pain! But a wave of keener sorrow swept o'er Pritha's heaving breast, As unto her weeping children thus her secret she expressed: _"He, my sons, the peerless bowman, mighty in his battle-car, He who bore the stamp of hero, slain by Arjun in the war,_ _He whom as the son of Radha, chariot-driver, ye have thought, He who shone with SURYA'S lustre as his countless foes he fought,_ _He who faced your stoutest warriors and in battle never failed, He who led the Kuru forces and in danger never quailed,_ _He who knew no peer in prowess, owned in war no haughtier name, He who yielded life, not honour, and by death hath conquered fame,_ _He, in truth who never faltered, never left his vow undone, Offer unto him oblation, Karna was my eldest son!_ _Karna was your honoured elder, and the Sun inspired his birth, Karna in his rings and armour Sun-like trod the spacious earth!"_ Pritha spake, and terror-stricken Pandav brothers groaned in pain, And they wept in woe and anguish for the brother they had slain. Hissing forth his sigh of sorrow like a trodden, hissing snake, Sad Yudhishthir to his mother thus his inward feelings spake: "Didst thou, mother, bear the hero fathomless like ocean dread, Whose unfailing glistening arrows like its countless billows sped? Didst thou bear that peerless archer, all-resistless in his car, Sweeping with the roar of ocean through the shattered ranks of war? Didst thou bear the mighty hero, mortal man of heavenly birth, Crushing 'neath his arm of valour all his foemen on the earth? Didst thou hide the birth and lineage of that chief of deathful ire, As a man in folds of garments seeks to hide the flaming fire? Arjun, wielder of _gandiva_, was for us no truer stay Than was Karna for the Kurus in the battle's dread array! Monarchs matched not Karna's glory nor his deeds of valour done, Midst the mighty car-borne warriors mightiest warrior Karna shone! Was he then our eldest brother we have in the battle slain, And our nearest dearest elder fell upon the gory plain? Not the death of Abhimanyu from the fair Subhadra torn, Not the slaughter of the princes by the proud Draupadi borne, Not the fall of Kuru warriors, nor Panchala's mighty host, Like thy death afflicts my bosom, noble Karna! loved and lost! Monarch's empire, victor's glory, all the treasures earth can yield, Righteous bliss and heavenly gladness, harvest of the _swarga's_ field, All that wish can shape and utter, all that nourish hope and pride, All were ours, O noble Karna! with thee by thy brother's side, And this carnage of the Kurus these sad eyes had never seen, Peace had graced our blessed empire, happy would the earth have been!" Long bewailed the sad Yudhishthir for his elder loved and dead, And oblation of the water to the noble Karna made, And the royal dames of Kuru viewed the sight with freshening pain, Wept to see the good Yudhishthir offering to his brother slain, And the widowed queen of Karna with the women of his house Gave oblations to her hero, wept her loved and slaughtered spouse! Done the rites to the departed, done oblations to the dead, Slowly then the sad survivors on the river's margin spread, Far along the shore and sandbank of the sacred sealike stream Maid and matron laved their bodies 'neath the morning's holy beam, And ablutions done, the Kurus slow and sad and cheerless part, Wend their way to far Hastina with a void and vacant heart. BOOK XII ASWA-MEDHA (Sacrifice of the Horse) The real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is either episodical or comparatively recent interpolation. The great and venerable warrior Bhishma, still lying on his death bed, discourses for the instruction of the newly crowned Yudhishthir on various subjects like the Duties of Kings, the Duties of the Four Castes, and the Four Stages of Life. He repeats the discourses of other saints, of Bhrigu and Bharadwaja, of Manu and Brihaspati, of Vyasa and Suka, of Yajnavalkya and Janaka, of Narada and Narayana. He explains _Sankhya_ philosophy and _Yoga_ philosophy, and lays down the laws of Marriage, the laws of Succession, the rules of Gifts, and the rules of Funeral Rites. He preaches the cult of Krishna, and narrates endless legends, tales, traditions, and myths about sages and saints, gods and mortal kings. All this is told in two Books containing about twenty-two thousand couplets, and forming nearly one-fourth of the entire Sanscrit Epic! The reason of adding all this episodical and comparatively recent matter to the ancient Epic is not far to seek. The Epic became more popular with the nation at large than dry codes of law and philosophy, and generations of Brahmanical writers laboured therefore to insert in the Epic itself their rules of caste and moral conduct, their laws and philosophy. There is no more venerable character in the Epic than Bhishma, and these rules and laws have therefore been supposed to come from his lips on the solemn occasion of his death. As a storehouse of Hindu laws and traditions and moral rules these episodes are invaluable; but they form no part of the real Epic, they are not a portion of the leading story of the Epic, and we pass them by. Bhishma dies and is cremated; but the endless exposition of laws, legends, and moral rules is not yet over. Krishna himself takes up the task in a new Book, and, as he has done once before in the _Bhagavat-gita_, he now once more explains to Arjun in the _Anu-gita_ the great truths about Soul and Emancipation, Creation and the Wheel of Life, True Knowledge and Rites and Penance. The adventures of the sage Utanka, whom Krishna meets, then take up a good many pages. All this forms no part of the real Epic, and we pass it by. Yudhishthir has in the meantime been crowned king of the Kurus at Hastinapura, and a posthumous child of Abhimanyu is named Parikshit, and is destined to succeed to the throne of the Kurus. But Yudhishthir's mind is still troubled with the thoughts of the carnage of the war, of which he considers himself guilty, and the great saint Vyasa advises the performance of the _aswa-medha_, or the Sacrifice of the Horse, for the expiation of the sin. The Sacrifice of the Horse was an ancient Hindu custom practised by kings exercising suzerain powers over surrounding kings. A horse was let free, and was allowed to wander from place to place, accompanied by the king's guard. If any neighbouring king ventured to detain the animal, it was a signal for war. If no king ventured to restrain the wanderer, it was considered a tacit mark of submission to the owner of the animal. And when the horse returned from its peregrinations, it was sacrificed with great pomp and splendour at a feast to which all neighbouring kings were invited. Yudhishthir allowed the sacrificial horse to wander at will, and Arjun accompanied it. Wherever the horse was stopped, Arjun fought and conquered, and thus proclaimed the supremacy of Yudhishthir over all neighbouring potentates. After various wars and adventures in various regions, Arjun at last returned victorious with the steed to Hastinapura, and the sacrifice commenced. The description of the sacrifice is somewhat artificial, and concerns itself with rites and ceremonious details and gifts to Brahmans, and altogether bears unmistakable evidence of the interpolating hand of later priestly writers. Nevertheless we cannot exclude from this translation of the leading incidents of the Epic the last great and crowning act of Yudhishthir, now anointed monarch of Kuru land. The portion translated in this Book forms Sections lxxxv. And parts of Sections lxxxviii. and lxxxix. of Book xiv. of the original text. I The Gathering Victor of a hundred battles, Arjun bent his homeward way, Following still the sacred charger free to wander as it may, Strolling minstrels to Yudhishthir spake of the returning steed, Spake of Arjun wending homeward with the victor's crown of meed, And they sang of Arjun's triumph's in Gandhara's distant vale, On the banks of Brahmaputra and in Sindhu's rocky dale. Twelfth day came of _magha's_ bright moon, and auspicious was the star, Nigher came the victor Arjun from his conquests near and far, Good Yudhishthir called his brothers, faithful twins and Bhima true, Spake to them in gentle accents, and his words were grave and few: "Bhima! Now returneth Arjun with the steed from many a fray, So they tell me, noble brother, who have met him on the way, And the time of _aswa-medha_ day by day is drawing nigh, _Magha's_ full moon is approaching, and the winter passeth by, Let the Brahmans versed in Vedas choose the sacrificial site, For the feast of many nations and performance of the rite." Bhima heard of Arjun's coming,--hero with the curly hair,-- And to do Yudhishthir's mandate did with gladsome heart repair, Brahmans versed in sacrifices, cunning architects of fame, Builders of each various altar with the son of Pritha came, And upon a level greensward measured forth the sacred site, Laid it out with halls and pathways for the sacrificial rite. Mansions graced with gem and jewel round the bright arena shone, Palaces of golden lustre glinted in the morning sun, Gilt and blazoned with devices lofty columns stood around, Graceful arches gold-surmounted spanned the consecrated ground, Gay pavilions rose in beauty round the sacrificial site, For the queens of crownéd monarchs wending to the holy rite, Humbler dwellings rose for Brahmans, priests of learning and of fame, Come to view Yudhishthir's _yajna_ and to bless Yudhishthir's name. Messengers with kindly greetings went to monarchs far-renowned, Asked them to Hastina's city, to the consecrated ground, And to please the great Yudhishthir came each king and chieftain bold, With their slaves and dark-eye damsels, arms and horses, gems and gold, Came and found a royal welcome in pavilions rich and high, And the sealike voice of nations smote the echoing vault of sky! With his greetings doth Yudhishthir, for each chief and king of men, Cooling drinks and sumptuous viands, beds of regal pride ordain, Stables filled with corn and barley and with milk and luscious cane Greet the monarchs' warlike tuskers and the steeds with flowing mane. _Munis_ from their hermitages to the sacred _yajna_ came, _Rishis_ from the grove and forest uttering BRAHMA'S holy name, Famed _Acharyas_ versed in Vedas to the city held their way, _Brahmacharins_ with grass-girdle, chanting _rik_ or _saman_ lay, Welcomed Kuru's pious monarch, saint and sage and man of grace, And with gentle condescension showed each priest his fitting place. Skilled mechanics, cunning artists, raised the structures for the rite, And with every needful object graced the sacrificial site, Every duty thus completed, joyful Yudhishthir's mind, And he blessed his faithful brothers with an elder's blessings kind. II The Feasting Men in nations are assembled, hymns are sung by saint and sage, And in learnéd disputations keen disputants oft engage, And the concourse of the monarchs view the splendour of the rite, Like the glorious sky of INDRA is the sacrificial site! Bright festoons and flaming streamers o'er the golden arches hung, Groups of men and gay-dressed women form a bright and joyous throng, Jars of cool and sparkling waters, vessels rich with gold inlaid, Costly cups and golden vases Kuru's wealth and pride displayed! Sacrificial stakes of timber with their golden fastenings graced, Consecrated by the _mantra_ are in sumptuous order placed, Countless creatures of the wide earth, fishes from the lake and flood, Buffaloes and bulls from pasture, beasts of prey from jungle wood, Birds and every egg-born creature, insects that from moisture spring, Denizens of cave and mountain for the sacrifice they bring! Noble chiefs and mighty monarchs gaze in wonder on the site, Filled with every living object, corn and cattle for the rite, Curd and cake and sweet confection are for feasting Brahmans spread, And a hundred thousand people are with sumptuous viands fed! With the accents of the rain-cloud drum and trumpet raise their voice, Speak Yudhishthir's noble bounty, bid the sons of men rejoice, Day by day the holy _yajna_ grows in splendour and in joy, Rice in hillocks feeds all comers, maid and matron, man and boy, Lakes of curd and lakes of butter speak Yudhishthir's bounteous feast, Nations of the Jambu-dwipa share it, greatest and the least! For a hundred diverse races from a hundred regions came, Ate of good Yudhishthir's bounty, blessed the good Yudhishthir's name, And a thousand proud attendants, gay with earrings, garland-graced, Carried food unto the feeders and the sweet confections placed, Viands fit for crownéd monarchs were unto the Brahmans given, Drinks of rich and cooling fragrance like the nectar-drink of heaven! III Sacrifice of Animals Victor of a hundred battles, Arjun came with conquering steed, Vyasa, herald of the Vedas, bade the holy rite proceed: "For the day is come, Yudhishthir, let the sacrifice be done, Let the priests repeat the mantra golden as the morning sun! Threefold bounteous be thy presents, and a threefold merit gain, For thy wealth of gold is ample, freely thy _dakshina_ rain! May the threefold rich performance purify the darkening stain, Blood of warriors and of kinsmen slaughtered on the gory plain! May the _yajna's_ pure ablution wash thee of the cruel sin, And the meed of sacrificers may the good Yudhishthir win!" Vyasa spake; and good Yudhishthir took the _diksha_ of the rite, And commenced the _aswa-medha_ gladdening every living wight, Round the altar's holy lustre moved the priests with sacred awe, Swerved not from the rule of duty, failed not in the sacred law. Done the rite of pure _pravargya_ with the pious hymn and lay, To the task of _abhishava_ priests and Brahmans led the way, And the holy Soma-drinkers pressed the sacred Soma plant, And performed the pure _savana_ with the solemn _saman_ chant. Bounty waits on squalid hunger, gifts dispel the timid fear, Gold revives the poor and lowly, mercy wipes the mourner's tear, Tender care relieves the stricken by the gracious king's command, Charity with loving sweetness spreads her smile o'er all the land! Day by day the _aswa-medha_ doth with sacred rites proceed, Day by day on royal bounty poor and grateful myriads feed, And adept in six Vedangas, strict in vow and rich in lore, Sage preceptors, holy teachers, grew in virtue ever more! Six good stakes of _vilwa_ timber, six of hard _khadira_ wood, Six of seasoned _sarvavarnin_, on the place of _yajna_ stood, Two were made of _devadaru_, pine that on Himalay grows, One was made of wood of _slesha_ which the sacrificer knows, Other stakes of golden lustre quaint with curious carving done, Draped in silk and gold-brocaded like the _ursa major_ shone! And the consecrated altar built and raised of bricks of gold, Shone in splendour like the altar Daksha built in days of old, Eighteen cubits square the structure, four deep layers of brick in height, With a spacious winged triangle like an eagle in its flight! Beasts whose flesh is pure and wholesome, dwellers of the lake or sky, Priests assigned each varied offering to each heavenly power on high, Bulls of various breed and colour, steeds of mettle true and tried, Other creatures, full three hundred, to the many stakes were tied. _Deva-rishis_ viewed the feasting, sweet _gandharvas_ woke the song, _Apsaras_ like gleams of sunlight on the greensward tripped along, _Kinnaras_ and _kim-purushas_ mingled in the holy rite, _Siddhas_ of austerest penance stood around the sacred site! Vyasa's great and gifted pupils, who the Vedas have compiled, Gazed upon the _aswa-medha_, on the wondrous _yajna_ smiled! From the bright ethereal mansions heavenly _rishi_ Narad came, Chetra-sena woke the music, singer of celestial fame, Cheered by more than mortal music Brahmans to their task incline, And Yudhishthir's fame and virtue with a brighter lustre shine! IV Sacrifice of the Horse Birds and beasts thus immolated, dressed and cooked, provide the food, Then before the sacred charger priests in rank and order stood, And by rules of Veda guided slew the horse of noble breed, Placed Draupadi, _Queen of yajna_, by the slain and lifeless steed, Hymns and gifts and pure devotion sanctified the noble Queen, Woman's worth and stainless virtue, woman's pride and wisdom keen! Priests with holy contemplation cooked the horse with pious rite, And the steam of welcome fragrance sanctified the sacred site, Good Yudhishthir and his brothers, by the rules by _rishis_ spoke, Piously inhaled the fragrance and the sin-destroying smoke, Severed limbs and sacred fragments of the courser duly dressed, Priests upon the blazing altar as a pious offering placed, And the ancient bard of Vedas, Vyasa raised his voice in song, Blessed Yudhishthir, Kuru's monarch, and the many-nationed throng! V Gifts Unto Brahmans gave Yudhishthir countless _nishkas_ of bright gold, Unto sage and saintly Vyasa all his realm and wealth untold, But the bard and ancient _rishi_ who the holy Vedas spake, Rendered back the monarch's present, earthly gift he might not take! "Thine is Kuru's ancient empire, rule the nations of the earth, Gods have destined thee as monarch from the moment of thy birth, Gold and wealth and rich _dakshina_ let the priests and Brahmans hoard, Be it thine to rule thy subjects as their father and their lord!" Krishna too in gentle accents to the doubting monarch said: "Vyasa speaketh word of wisdom and his mandate be obeyed!" From the _rishi_ good Yudhishthir then received the Kuru-land, With a threefold gift of riches gladdened all the priestly band, Pious priests and grateful nations to their distant regions went, And his share of presents Vyasa to the ancient Pritha sent. Fame and virtue Kuru's monarch by the _aswa-medha_ wins, And the rite of pure ablution cleanses all Yudhishthir's sins, And he stands amid his brothers, brightly beaming, pure and high, Even as INDRA stands encircled by the dwellers of the sky, And the concourse of the monarchs grace Yudhishthir's regal might, As the radiant stars and planets grace the stillness of the night! Gems and jewels in his bounty, gold and garments rich and rare, Gave Yudhishthir to each monarch, slaves and damsels passing fair, Loving gifts to dear relations gave the king of righteous fame, And the grateful parting monarchs blessed Yudhishthir's hallowed name! Last of all with many tear-drops Krishna mounts his lofty car, Faithful still in joy or sorrow, faithful still in peace or war, Arjun's comrade, Bhima's helper, good Yudhishthir's friend of yore, Krishna leaves Hastina's mansions for the sea-girt Dwarka's shore! CONCLUSION The real Epic ends with the war and with the funerals of the deceased warriors, as we have stated before, and Yudhishthir's Horse-Sacrifice is rather a crowning ornament than a part of the solid edifice. What follows the sacrifice is in no sense a part of the real Epic; it consists merely of concluding personal narratives of the heroes who have figured in the poem. Dhrita-rashtra retires into a forest with his queen Gandhari, and Pritha, the mother of the Pandav brothers, accompanies them. In the solitude of the forest the old Dhrita-rashtra sees as in a vision the spirits of all the slain warriors, his sons and grandsons and kinsmen, clad and armed as they were in battle. The spirits disappear in the morning at the bidding of Vyasa, who had called them up. At last Dhrita-rashtra and Gandhari and Pritha are burnt to death in a forest conflagration, death by fire being considered holy. Krishna at Dwarka meets with strange and tragic adventures. The Vrishnis and the Andhakas become irreligious and addicted to drinking, and fall a prey to internal dissensions. Valadeva and Krishna die shortly after, and the city of the Yadavas is swallowed up by the ocean. Then follow the two concluding Books of the Epic, the _Great Journey_ and the _Ascent to Heaven_, so beautifully rendered into English by Sir Edwin Arnold. On hearing of the death of their friend Krishna, the Pandav brothers place Prakshit, the grandson of Arjun, on the throne, and retire to the Himalayas. Draupadi drops down dead on the way, then Sahadeva, then Nakula, then Arjun, and then Bhima. Yudhishthir alone proceeds to heaven in person in a celestial car. There Yudhishthir undergoes some trial, bathes in the celestial Ganges, and rises with a celestial body. He then meets Krishna, now in his heavenly form, blazing in splendour and glory. He meets his brothers whom he had lost on earth, but who are now Immortals in the sky, clad in heavenly forms. INDRA himself appears before Yudhishthir, and introduces him to others who were dear to him on earth, and are dear to him in heaven. Thus speaks INDRA to Yudhishthir: "This is She, the fair Immortal! Her no human mother bore, Sprung from altar as Draupadi human shape for thee she wore, By the Wielder of the trident she was waked to form and life, Born in royal Drupad's mansion, righteous man, to be thy wife, These are bright aërial beings, went for thee to lower earth, Borne by Drupad's stainless daughter as thy children took their birth! This is monarch Dhrita-rashtra who doth o'er _gandharvas_ reign, This is brave immortal Karna, erst on earth by Arjun slain, Like the fire in ruddy splendour, for the Sun inspired his birth, As the son of Chariot-driver he was known upon the earth! 'Midst the _Sadhyas_ and the _Maruts_, 'midst immortals pure and bright, Seek thy friends the faithful Vrishnis matchless in their warlike might. Seek and find the brave Satyaki who upheld thy cause so well, Seek the Bhojas and Andhakas who in Kuru-kshetra fell! This is gallant Abhimanyu whom the fair Subhadra bore, Still unconquered in the battle, slain by fraud in yonder shore, Abhimanyu, son of Arjun, wielding Arjun's peerless might, With the Lord of Night he ranges, beauteous as the Lord of Night! This, Yudhishthir, is thy father! by thy mother joined in heaven, Oft he comes into my mansions in his flowery chariot driven, This is Bhishma, stainless warrior, by the _Vasus_ is his place, By the god of heavenly wisdom teacher Drona sits in grace! _These and other mighty warriors, in the earthly battle slain, By their valour and their virtue walk the bright ethereal plain!_ _They have cast their mortal bodies, crossed the radiant gate of heaven, For to win celestial mansions unto mortals it is given!_ _Let them strive by kindly action, gentle speech, endurance long, Brighter life and holier future into sons of men belong!"_ TRANSLATOR'S EPILOGUE Ancient India, like ancient Greece, boasts of two great Epics. One of them, the _Maha-bharata_, relates to a great war in which all the warlike races of Northern India took a share, and may therefore be compared to the Iliad. The other, the _Ramayana_, relates mainly to the adventures of its hero, banished from his country and wandering for long years in the wildernesses of Southern India, and may therefore be compared to the Odyssey. It is the first of these two Epics, the Iliad of Ancient India, which is the subject of tile foregoing pages. The great war which is the subject of this Epic is believed to have been fought in the thirteenth or fourteenth century before Christ. For generations and centuries after the war its main incidents must have been sung by bards and minstrels in the courts of Northern India. The war thus became the centre of a cycle of legends, songs, and poems in ancient India, even as Charlemagne and Arthur became the centres of legends in mediæval Europe. And then, probably under the direction of some enlightened king, the vast mass of legends and poetry, accumulated during centuries, was cast in a narrative form and formed the Epic of the Great Bharata nation, and therefore called the _Maha-bharata_. The real facts of the war had been obliterated by age, legendary heroes had become the principal actors, and, as is invariably the case in India, the thread of a high moral purpose, of the triumph of virtue and the subjugation of vice, was woven into the fabric of the great Epic. We should have been thankful if this Epic, as it was thus originally put together some centuries before the Christian era, had been preserved to us. But this was not to be. The Epic became so popular that it went on growing with the growth of centuries. Every generation of poets had something to add; every distant nation in Northern India was anxious to interpolate some account of its deeds in the old record of the international war; every preacher of a new creed desired to have in the old Epic some sanction for the new truths he inculcated. Passages from legal and moral codes were incorporated in the work which appealed to the nation much more effectively than dry codes; and rules about the different castes and about the different stages of the human life were included for the same purpose. All the floating mass of tales, traditions, legends, and myths, for which ancient India was famous, found a shelter under the expanding wings of this wonderful Epic; and as Krishna-worship became the prevailing religion of India after the decay of Buddhism, the old Epic caught the complexion of the times, and Krishna-cult is its dominating religious idea in its present shape. It is thus that the work went on growing for a thousand years after it was first compiled and put together in the form of an Epic; until the crystal rill of the Epic itself was all but lost in an unending morass of religious and didactic episodes, legends, tales, and traditions. When the mischief had been done, and the Epic had nearly assumed its present proportions, a few centuries after Christ according to the late Dr. Bühler, an attempt was made to prevent the further expansion of the work. The contents of the Epic were described in some prefatory verses, and the number of couplets in each Book was stated. The total number of couplets, according to this metrical preface, is about eighty-five thousand. But the limit so fixed has been exceeded in still later centuries; further additions and interpolations have been made; and the Epic as printed and published in Calcutta in this century contains over ninety thousand couplets, excluding the Supplement about the Race of Hari. The modern reader will now understand the reason why this great Epic--the greatest work of imagination that Asia has produced--has never yet been put before the European reader in a readable form. A poem of ninety thousand couplets, about seven times the size of the Iliad and the Odyssey put together, is more than what the average reader can stand; and the heterogeneous nature of its contents does not add to the interest of the work. If the religious works of Hooker and Jeremy Taylor, the philosophy of Hobbes and Locke, the commentaries of Blackstone and the ballads of Percy, together with the tractarian writings of Newman, Keble, and Pusey, were all thrown into blank verse and incorporated with the Paradise Lost, the reader would scarcely be much to blame if he failed to appreciate that delectable compound. A complete translation of the _Maha-bharata_ therefore into English verse is neither possible nor desirable, but portions of it have now and then been placed before English readers by distinguished writers. Dean Milman's graceful rendering of the story of Nala and Damayanti is still read and appreciated by a select circle of readers; and Sir Edwin Arnold's beautiful translation of the concluding books of the Epic is familiar to a larger circle of Englishmen. A complete translation of the Epic into English prose has also been published in India, and is useful to Sanscrit scholars for the purpose of reference. But although the old Epic had thus been spoilt by unlimited expansion, yet nevertheless the leading incidents and characters of the real Epic are still discernible, uninjured by the mass of foreign substance in which they are embedded--even like those immortal marble figures which have been recovered from the ruins of an ancient world, and now beautify the museums of modern Europe. For years past I have thought that it was perhaps not impossible to exhume this buried Epic from the superincumbent mass of episodical matter, and to restore it to the modern world. For years past I have felt a longing to undertake this work, but the task was by no means an easy one. Leaving out all episodical matter, the leading narrative of the Epic forms about one-fourth of the work; and a complete translation even of this leading story would be unreadable, both from its length and its prolixness. On the other hand, to condense the story into shorter limits would be, not to make a translation, but virtually to write a new poem; and that was not what I desired to undertake, nor what I was competent to perform. There seemed to me only one way out of this difficulty. The main incidents of the Epic are narrated in the original work in passages which are neither diffuse nor unduly prolix, and which are interspersed in the leading narrative of the Epic, at that narrative itself is interspersed in the midst of more lengthy episodes. The more carefully I examined the arrangement, the more clearly it appeared to me that these main incidents of the Epic would bear a full and unabridged translation into English verse; and that these translations, linked together by short connecting notes, would virtually present the entire story of the Epic to the modern reader in a form and within limits which might be acceptable. It would be, no doubt, a condensed version of the original Epic, but the condensation would be effected, not by the translator telling a short story in his own language, but by linking together those passages of the original which describe the main and striking incidents, and thus telling the main story as told in the original work. The advantage of this arrangement is that, in the passages presented to the reader, it is the poet who speaks to him, not the translator. Though vast portions of the original are skipped over, those which are presented are the portions which narrate the main incidents of the Epic, and they describe those incidents as told by the poet himself. This is the plan I have generally adopted in the present work. Except in the three books which describe the actual war (Books viii., ix., and x.), the other nine books of this translation are complete translations of selected passages of the original work. I have not attempted to condense these passages nor to expand them; I have endeavoured to put them before the English reader as they have been told by the poet in Sanscrit. Occasionally, but rarely, a few redundant couplets have been left out, or a long list of proper names or obscure allusions has been shortened; and in one place only, at the beginning of the Fifth Book, I have added twelve couplets of my own to explain the circumstances under which the story of Savitri is told. Generally, therefore, the translation may be accepted as an unabridged, though necessarily a free translation of the passages describing the main incidents of the Epic. From this method I have been compelled to depart, much against my wish, in the three books describing the actual war. No translation of an Epic relating to a great war can be acceptable which does not narrate the main events of the war. The war of the _Maha-bharata_ was a series of eighteen battles, fought on eighteen consecutive days, and I felt it necessary to present the reader with an account of each day's work. In order to do so, I have been compelled to condense, and not merely to translate selected passages. For the transactions of the war, unlike the other incidents of the Epic, have been narrated in the original with almost inconceivable prolixity and endless repetition; and the process of condensation in these three books has therefore been severe and thorough. But, nevertheless, even in these books I have endeavoured to preserve the character and the spirit of the original. Not only are the incidents narrated in the same order as in the original, but they are told in the style of the poet as far as possible. Even the similes and metaphors and figures of speech are all or mostly adopted from the original; the translator has not ventured either to adopt his own distinct style of narration, or to improve on the style of the original with his own decorations. Such is the scheme I have adopted in presenting an Epic of ninety thousand Sanscrit couplets in about two thousand English couplets. The excellent and deservedly popular prose translation of the Odyssey of Homer by Messrs. Butcher and Lang often led me to think that perhaps a prose translation of these selected passages from the _Maha-bharata_ might be more acceptable to the modern reader. But a more serious consideration of the question dispelled that idea. Homer has an interest for the European reader which the _Maha-bharata_ cannot lay claim to; as the father of European poetry he has a claim on the veneration of modern Europe which an Indian poet can never pretend to. To thousands of European readers Homer is familiar in the original, to hundreds of thousands he is known in various translations in various modern languages. What Homer actually wrote, a numerous class of students in Europe wish to know; and a literal prose translation therefore is welcome, after the great Epic has been so often translated in verse. The case is very different with the _Maha-bharata_, practically unknown to European readers. And the translators of Homer themselves gracefully acknowledge, "We have tried to transfer, not all the truth about the poem, but the historical truth into English. In this process Homer must lose at least half his charm, his bright and equable speed, the musical current of that narrative, which, like the river of Egypt, flows from an undiscoverable source, and mirrors the temples and the palaces of unforgotten gods and kings. Without the music of verse, only a half truth about Homer can be told." Another earnest worker of the present day, who is endeavouring to interpret to modern Englishmen the thoughts and sentiments and poetry of their Anglo-Saxon ancestors, has emphatically declared that "of all possible translations of poetry, a merely prose translation is the most inaccurate." "Prose," says Mr. Stopford Brooke, further on, "no more represents poetry than architecture does music. Translations of poetry are never much good, but at least they should always endeavour to have the musical movement of poetry, and to obey the laws of the verse they translate." This appears to me to be a very sound maxim. And one of my greatest difficulties in the task I have undertaken has been to try and preserve something of the "musical movement" of the sonorous Sanscrit poetry in the English translation. Much of tile Sanscrit Epic is written in the well-known _Sloka_ metre of sixteen syllables in each line, and I endeavoured to choose some English metre which is familiar to the English ear, and which would reproduce to some extent the rhythm, the majesty, and the long and measured sweep of the Sanscrit verse. It was necessary to adopt such a metre in order to transfer something of the truth about the _Maha-bharata_ into English, for without such reproduction or imitation of the musical movement of the original very much less than a half truth is told. My kind friend Mr. Edmund Russell, impelled by that enthusiasm for Indian poetry and Indian art which is a part of him, rendered me valuable help and assistance in this matter, and I gratefully acknowledge, the benefit I have derived from his advice and suggestions. After considerable trouble and anxiety, and after rendering several books in different English metres, I felt convinced that the one finally adopted was a nearer approach to the Sanscrit _Sloka_ than any other familiar English metre known to me. I have recited a verse in this English metre and a _Sloka_ in presence of listeners who have a better ear for music than myself, and they have marked the close resemblance. I quote a few lines from the Sanscrit showing varieties of the _Sloka_ metre, and comparing them with the scheme of the English metre selected. Esha Kuntishutah sriman | esha madhyama Pandavah Esha putro Mahendrasya | Kurunam esha rakshita --Maha-bharata, i. 5357. Yet I doubt not through the ages | one increasing purpose runs And the thoughts of men are widened | with the process of the suns --Locksley Hall. Malancha samupadaya | kanchanim samalamkritam Avatirna tato rangam | Draupadi Bharatarshabha --Maha-bharata, i. 6974. Visions of the days departed | shadowy phantoms filled my brain; Those who live in history only | seemed to walk the earth again --Belfry of Bruges. Asuryam iva suryena | nirvatam iva vayuna Bhasitam hladitanchaiva | Krishnenedam sado hi nah --Maha-bharata, ii. 1334. Quaint old town of toil and traffic | quaint old town of art and song, Memories haunt thy pointed gables, | like the rooks that round thee throng. --Nüremberg. Ha Pando ha maharaja | kvasi kim samupekshase Putran vivasyatah sadhun | aribhir dyutanirjitan --Maha-bharata, ii. 2610. In her ear he whispers gaily, | If my heart by signs can tell, Maiden I have watched thee daily, | And I think thou lov'st me well --Lord of Burleigh. It would be too much to assume that even with the help of this similarity in metres, I have been able to transfer into my English that sweep and majesty of verse which is the charm of Sanscrit, and which often sustains and elevates the simplest narration and the plainest ideas. Without the support of those sustaining wings, my poor narration must often plod through the dust; and I can only ask for the indulgence of the reader, which every translator of poetry from a foreign language can with reason ask, if the story as told in the translation is sometimes but a plain, simple, and homely narrative. For any artistic decoration I have neither the inclination nor the necessary qualification. The crisp and ornate style, the quaint expression, the chiselled word, the new-coined phrase, in which modern English poetry is rich, would scarcely suit the translation of an old Epic whose predominating characteristic is its simple and easy flow of narrative. Indeed, the _Maha-bharata_ would lose that unadorned simplicity which is its first and foremost feature if the translator ventured to decorate it with the art of the modern day, even if he had been qualified to do so. For if there is one characteristic feature which distinguishes the _Maha-bharata_ (as well as the other Indian Epic, the _Ramayana_) from all later Sanscrit literature, it is the grand simplicity of its narrative, which contrasts with the artificial graces of later Sanscrit poetry. The poetry of Kalidasa, for instance, is ornate and beautiful, and almost scintillates with similes in every verse; the poetry of the _Maha-bharara_ is plain and unpolished, and scarcely stoops to a simile or a figure of speech unless the simile comes naturally to the poet. The great deeds of godlike kings sometimes suggest to the poet the mighty deeds of gods; the rushing of warriors suggests the rushing of angry elephants in the echoing jungle; the flight of whistling arrows suggests the flight of sea-birds; the sound and movement of surging crowds suggest the heaving of billows; the erect attitude of a warrior suggests a tall cliff; the beauty of a maiden suggests the soft beauty of the blue lotus. When such comparisons come naturally to the poet, he accepts them and notes them down, but he never seems to go in quest of them, he is never anxious to beautify and decorate. He seems to trust entirely to his grand narrative, to his heroic characters, to his stirring incidents, to hold millions of listeners in perpetual thrall. The majestic and sonorous Sanscrit metre is at his command, and even this he uses, carelessly, and with frequent slips, known as _arsha_ to later grammarians. The poet certainly seeks for no art to decorate his tale, he trusts to the lofty chronicle of bygone heroes to enchain the listening mankind. And what heroes! In the delineation of character the _Maha-bharata_ is far above anything which we find in later Sanscrit poetry. Indeed, with much that is fresh and sweet and lovely in later Sanscrit poetry, there is little or no portraiture of character. All heroes are cast much in the same heroic mould; all love-sick heroines suffer in silence and burn with fever, all fools are shrewd and impudent by turns, all knaves are heartless and cruel and suffer in the end. There is not much to distinguish between one warrior and another, between one tender woman and her sister. In the _Maha-bharata_ we find just the reverse; each hero has a distinct individuality, a character of his own, clearly discernible from that of other heroes. No work of the imagination that could be named, always excepting the Iliad, is so rich and so true as the _Maha-bharata_ in the portraiture of the human character,--not in torment and suffering as in Dante, not under overwhelming passions as in Shakespeare,--but human character in its calm dignity of strength and repose, like those immortal figures in marble which the ancients turned out, and which modern sculptors have vainly sought to reproduce. The old Kuru monarch Dhrita-rashtra, sightless and feeble, but majestic in his ancient grandeur; the noble grandsire Bhishma, "death's subduer" and unconquerable in war; the doughty Drona, venerable priest and vengeful warrior; and the proud and peerless archer Karna--have each a distinct character of his own which can not be mistaken for a moment. The good and royal Yudhishthir, (I omit the final _a_ in some long names which occur frequently), the "tiger-waisted" Bhima, and the "helmet-wearing" Arjun are the Agamemnon, the Ajax, and the Achilles of the Indian Epic. The proud and unyielding Duryodhan, and the fierce and fiery Duhsasan stand out foremost among the wrathful sons of the feeble old Kuru monarch. And Krishna possesses a character higher than that of Ulysses; unmatched in human wisdom, ever striving for righteousness and peace, he is thorough and unrelenting in war when war has begun. And the women of the Indian Epic possess characters as marked as those of the men. The stately and majestic queen Gandhari, the loving and doting mother Pritha, the proud and scornful Draupadi nursing her wrath till her wrongs are fearfully revenged, and the bright and brilliant and sunny Subhadra,--these are distinct images pencilled by the hand of a true master in the realm of creative imagination. And if the characters of the _Maha-bharata_ impress themselves on the reader, the incidents of the Epic are no less striking. Every scene on the shifting stage is a perfect and impressive picture. The tournament of the princes in which Arjun and Karna--the Achilles and Hector of the Indian Epic--first met and each marked the other for his foe; the gorgeous bridal of Draupadi; the equally gorgeous coronation of Yudhishthir and the death of the proud and boisterous Sisupala; the fatal game of dice and the scornful wrath of Draupadi against her insulters; the calm beauty of the forest life of the Pandavs; the cattle-lifting in Matsyaland in which the gallant Arjun threw off his disguise and stood forth as warrior and conqueror; and the Homeric speeches of the warriors in the council of war on the eve of the great contest,--each scene of this venerable old Epic impresses itself on the mind of the hushed and astonished reader. Then follows the war of eighteen days. The first few days are more or less uneventful, and have been condensed in this translation often into a few couplets; but the interest of the reader increases as he approaches the final battle and fall of the grand old fighter Bhishma. Then follows the stirring story of the death of Arjun's gallant boy, and Arjun's fierce revenge, and the death of the priest and warrior, doughty Drona. Last comes the crowning event of the Epic, the final contest between Arjun and Karna, the heroes of the Epic, and the war ends in a midnight slaughter and the death of Duryodhan. The rest of the story is told in this translation in two books describing the funerals of the deceased warriors, and Yudhishthir's horse-sacrifice. "The poems of Homer," says Mr. Gladstone, "differ from all other known poetry in this, that they constitute in themselves an encyclopædia of life and knowledge; at a time when knowledge, indeed, such as lies beyond the bounds of actual experience, was extremely limited, and when life was singularly fresh, vivid, and expansive." This remark applies with even greater force to the _Maha-bharata_; it is an encyclopædia of the life and knowledge of Ancient India. And it discloses to us an ancient and forgotten world, a proud and noble civilisation which has passed away. Northern India was then parcelled among warlike races living side by side under their warlike kings, speaking the same language, performing the same religious rites and ceremonies, rejoicing in a common literature, rivalling each other in their schools of philosophy and learning as in the arts of peace and civilisation, and forming a confederation of Hindu nations unknown to and unknowing the outside world. What this confederation of nations has done for the cause of human knowledge and human civilisation is a matter of history. Their inquiries into the hidden truths of religion, embalmed in the ancient _Upanishads_, have never been excelled within the last three thousand years. Their inquiries into philosophy, preserved in the _Sankhya_ and the _Vedanta_ systems, were the first systems of true philosophy which the world produced. And their great works of imagination, the _Maha-bharata_ and the _Ramayana_, will be placed without hesitation by the side of Homer by critics who survey the world's literatures from a lofty standpoint, and judge impartially of the wares turned out by the hand of man in all parts of the globe. It is scarcely necessary to add that the discoveries of the ancient Hindus in science, and specially in mathematics, are the heritage of the modern world; and that the lofty religion of Buddha, proclaimed in India five centuries before Christ, is now the religion of a third of the human race. For the rest, the people of modern India know how to appreciate their ancient heritage. It is not an exaggeration to state that the two hundred millions of Hindus of the present day cherish in their hearts the story of their ancient Epics. The Hindu scarcely lives, man or woman, high or low, educated or ignorant, whose earliest recollections do not cling round the story and the characters of the great Epics. The almost illiterate oil-manufacturer or confectioner of Bengal spells out some modern translation of the Maha-bharata to while away his leisure hour. The tall and stalwart peasantry of the North-West know of the five Pandav brothers, and of their friend the righteous Krishna. The people of Bombay and Madras cherish with equal ardour the story of the righteous war. And even the traditions and tales interspersed in the Epic, and which spoil the work as an Epic, have themselves a charm and an attraction; and the morals inculcated in these tales sink into the hearts of a naturally religious people, and form the basis of their moral education. Mothers in India know no better theme for imparting wisdom and instruction to their daughters, and elderly men know no richer storehouse for narrating tales to children, than these stories preserved in the Epics. No work in Europe, not Homer in Greece or Virgil in Italy, not Shakespeare or Milton in English-speaking lands, is the national property of the nations to the same extent as the Epics of India are of the Hindus. No single work except the Bible has such influence in affording moral instruction in Christian lands as the _Maha-bharata_ and the _Ramayana_ in India. They have been the cherished heritage of the Hindus for three thousand years; they are to the present day interwoven with the thoughts and beliefs and moral ideas of a nation numbering two hundred millions. ROMESH DUTT. University College, London, _13th August 1898_. GLOSSARY OF SANSCRIT WORDS ABHISHAVA, a religious rite. ABBHISHEKA, sacred ablution. ACHARYA, preceptor. AJYA, a form of sacrificial offering. APRAMATTA, without pride or passion. APSARAS, celestial nymphs. ARGHYA, an offering due to an honoured guest. ARYA, noble. ASRAM, hermitage. ASURA, Titans, enemies of gods. ASWAMEDHA, sacrifice of the horse. BAIDURYA, lapiz-lazuli. BRAHMACHARIN, one who has taken vows and lives an austere life. CHANDAN, sandalwood, the paste of which is used for fragrance and coolness. CHOWRI or CHAMARI, the Himalayan yak, whose bushy tail is used as a fan. DAKSHINA, gifts made at sacrifices. DASAPUTRA, son of a slave. DEVA, gods. DEVADARU (_lit._ heavenly tree), the Indian pine. DEVA-KANYA, celestial maid. DEVA-RISHI, celestial saint. DHARMA-RAJA, monarch by reason of piety and virtue. DIKSHA, initiation into a sacred rite. GANDHARVA, a class of aerial beings; celestial singers. GANDIVA, Arjun's bow. GHEE or GHRITA, clarified butter. GURU, preceptor. HOMA, a sacrificial rite or offering. HOWDA, the seat on an elephant. IDA, a form of sacrificial offering. KANKA, a bird of prey. KHADIRA, an Indian tree. KIMPURUSHA, a class of imaginary beings. KINNARA, a class of imaginary beings with the face of a horse. KOKIL, an Indian bird answering to the English cuckoo, and prized for its sweet note. MAGHA, a, winter month. MAHUT or MAHAMATRA, elephant driver MANTRA, hymn or incantation. MLECHCHA, outer barbarian. All who were not Hindus were designated by this name. MUNI, saint, anchorite. NAGA, dweller of the snake-world; also a tribe in Eastern India. NISHADA, an aboriginal race. NISHKA, gold pieces of specified weight, used as money and also as ornament. PANKHA (from Sanscrit _paksha_, wing), a fan. PISHACHA, ghost or goblin. PITRI-MEDHA, sacrifice and offering due to departed ancestors. PRAVARGYA, a religious rite. PURANA, a class of religious works. PURUSHA, the soul. RAJASUYA, imperial sacrifice. RAKSHA or RAKSHASA, monster or goblin. RIK, hymn recited at sacrifice. RISHI, saint; a holy man retired from the world and devoting himself to pious rites and contemplation. SAMADHI, austere religious practice. SAMAN, hymn chanted at sacrifice. SAMI, an Indian tree. SANKHA, sounding conch-shell. SARVAVARNIN, an Indian tree. SASTRA, scriptures and religious works. SAVANA, a religious rite. SAVITRI, a hymn; also the goddess of the hymn. SIDDHA, holy celestial beings. SLESHA, an Indian tree. SUPARNA, celestial bird. SWARGA, heaven. SWASTI, a word uttered to dispel evil. SWAYAMVARA, a form of bridal, the bride selecting her husband from among suitors. TIRTHA, holy rites at the crossing of rivers. TRIRATRA, a three nights' penance and fast. VEDA, the most ancient and holiest scriptures of the Hindus. VIJAYA, Karna's bow. VINA, the lyre. YAJNA, sacrifice. YATO DHARMA STATO JAYAH, where there is virtue there is victory. YUGA, the period of the world's existence. In view of the comprehensive character of the "Temple Classics," it has seemed desirable to include Mr. Dutt's version of India's great Epic--the work of a distinguished soldier and patriot. The importance of the poem is sufficiently explained in Mr. Dutt's Note. The translator's high position in Modern Indian Literature is attested by the following reference in Mr. R. W. Frazer's recent "Literary History of India" (an excellent survey of the whole subject, to which the reader should turn, more especially for its luminous account of the Epics and Dramas of Ancient India):--"A worthy follower of India's first great novelist (Bankim Chandra Chatterji) appeared in Romesh Chandra Dutt, the ablest native member of the Indian Civil Service. His novels have now passed through five of six editions in the Bengali.... His translation of the 'Rig Veda Sanhita' into Bengali appeared in 1887; his valuable 'History of Civilisation of Ancient India,' in English, in three volumes, from 1889, &c. &c.... A whole library of 'Sorrow and Song' was poured forth by this Dutt family of Rambagan." Mr. Dutt is at present resident in London, holding the office of Lecturer in Indian History at University College, and devoting himself to literary and other labours. I.G. Nov. 15th, 1898 
2502	----	CHITRA BY RABINDRANATH TAGORE A PLAY IN ONE ACT New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1926 All rights reserved Copyright 1914 by THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Set up and electrotyped Published February, 1914 Reprinted March, twice, June, 1914; October, 1914; February, June, 1915; March, October, 1916; March, 1917; December, 1926. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY THE BERWICK & SMITH CO. TO MRS. WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY PREFACE THIS lyrical drama was written about twenty-five years ago. It is based on the following story from the Mahabharata. In the course of his wanderings, in fulfilment of a vow of penance, Arjuna came to Manipur. There he saw Chitrangada, the beautiful daughter of Chitravahana, the king of the country. Smitten with her charms, he asked the king for the hand of his daughter in marriage. Chitravahana asked him who he was, and learning that he was Arjuna the Pandara, told him that Prabhanjana, one of his ancestors in the kingly line of Manipur, had long been childless. In order to obtain an heir, he performed severe penances. Pleased with these austerities, the god Shiva gave him this boon, that he and his successors should each have one child. It so happened that the promised child had invariably been a son. He, Chitravahana, was the first to have only a daughter Chitrangada to perpetuate the race. He had, therefore, always treated her as a son and had made her his heir. Continuing, the king said: "The one son that will be born to her must be the perpetuator of my race. That son will be the price that I shall demand for this marriage. You can take her, if you like, on this condition." Arjuna promised and took Chitrangada to wife, and lived in her father's capital for three years. When a son was born to them, he embraced her with affection, and taking leave of her and her father, set out again on his travels. CHITRA THE CHARACTERS GODS: MADANA (Eros). VASANTA (Lycoris). MORTALS: CHITRA, daughter of the King of Manipur. ARJUNA, a prince of the house of the Kurus. He is of the Kshatriya or "warrior caste," and during the action is living as a Hermit retired in the forest. VILLAGERS from an outlying district of Manipur. NOTE.--The dramatic poem "Chitra" has been performed in India without scenery--the actors being surrounded by the audience. Proposals for its production here having been made to him, he went through this translation and provided stage directions, but wished these omitted if it were printed as a book. SCENE I Chitra ART thou the god with the five darts, the Lord of Love? Madana I am he who was the first born in the heart of the Creator. I bind in bonds of pain and bliss the lives of men and women! Chitra I know, I know what that pain is and those bonds.--And who art thou, my lord? Vasanta I am his friend--Vasanta--the King of the Seasons. Death and decrepitude would wear the world to the bone but that I follow them and constantly attack them. I am Eternal Youth. Chitra I bow to thee, Lord Vasanta. Madana But what stern vow is thine, fair stranger? Why dost thou wither thy fresh youth with penance and mortification? Such a sacrifice is not fit for the worship of love. Who art thou and what is thy prayer? Chitra I am Chitra, the daughter of the kingly house of Manipur. With godlike grace Lord Shiva promised to my royal grandsire an unbroken line of male descent. Nevertheless, the divine word proved powerless to change the spark of life in my mother's womb --so invincible was my nature, woman though I be. Madana I know, that is why thy father brings thee up as his son. He has taught thee the use of the bow and all the duties of a king. Chitra Yes, that is why I am dressed in man's attire and have left the seclusion of a woman's chamber. I know no feminine wiles for winning hearts. My hands are strong to bend the bow, but I have never learnt Cupid's archery, the play of eyes. Madana That requires no schooling, fair one. The eye does its work untaught, and he knows how well, who is struck in the heart. Chitra One day in search of game I roved alone to the forest on the bank of the Purna river. Tying my horse to a tree trunk I entered a dense thicket on the track of a deer. I found a narrow sinuous path meandering through the dusk of the entangled boughs, the foliage vibrated with the chirping of crickets, when of a sudden I came upon a man lying on a bed of dried leaves, across my path. I asked him haughtily to move aside, but he heeded not. Then with the sharp end of my bow I pricked him in contempt. Instantly he leapt up with straight, tall limbs, like a sudden tongue of fire from a heap of ashes. An amused smile flickered round the corners of his mouth, perhaps at the sight of my boyish countenance. Then for the first time in my life I felt myself a woman, and knew that a man was before me. Madana At the auspicious hour I teach the man and the woman this supreme lesson to know themselves. What happened after that? Chitra With fear and wonder I asked him "Who are you?" "I am Arjuna," he said, "of the great Kuru clan." I stood petrified like a statue, and forgot to do him obeisance. Was this indeed Arjuna, the one great idol of my dreams! Yes, I had long ago heard how he had vowed a twelve-years' celibacy. Many a day my young ambition had spurred me on to break my lance with him, to challenge him in disguise to single combat, and prove my skill in arms against him. Ah, foolish heart, whither fled thy presumption? Could I but exchange my youth with all its aspirations for the clod of earth under his feet, I should deem it a most precious grace. I know not in what whirlpool of thought I was lost, when suddenly I saw him vanish through the trees. O foolish woman, neither didst thou greet him, nor speak a word, nor beg forgiveness, but stoodest like a barbarian boor while he contemptuously walked away! . . . Next morning I laid aside my man's clothing. I donned bracelets, anklets, waist-chain, and a gown of purple red silk. The unaccustomed dress clung about my shrinking shame; but I hastened on my quest, and found Arjuna in the forest temple of Shiva. Madana Tell me the story to the end. I am the heart-born god, and I understand the mystery of these impulses. Chitra Only vaguely can I remember what things I said, and what answer I got. Do not ask me to tell you all. Shame fell on me like a thunderbolt, yet could not break me to pieces, so utterly hard, so like a man am I. His last words as I walked home pricked my ears like red hot needles. "I have taken the vow of celibacy. I am not fit to be thy husband!" Oh, the vow of a man! Surely thou knowest, thou god of love, that unnumbered saints and sages have surrendered the merits of their life-long penance at the feet of a woman. I broke my bow in two and burnt my arrows in the fire. I hated my strong, lithe arm, scored by drawing the bowstring. O Love, god Love, thou hast laid low in the dust the vain pride of my manlike strength; and all my man's training lies crushed under thy feet. Now teach me thy lessons; give me the power of the weak and the weapon of the unarmed hand. Madana I will be thy friend. I will bring the world-conquering Arjuna a captive before thee, to accept his rebellion's sentence at thy hand. Chitra Had I but the time needed, I could win his heart by slow degrees, and ask no help of the gods. I would stand by his side as a comrade, drive the fierce horses of his war-chariot, attend him in the pleasures of the chase, keep guard at night at the entrance of his tent, and help him in all the great duties of a Kshatriya, rescuing the weak, and meting out justice where it is due. Surely at last the day would have come for him to look at me and wonder, "What boy is this? Has one of my slaves in a former life followed me like my good deeds into this?" I am not the woman who nourishes her despair in lonely silence, feeding it with nightly tears and covering it with the daily patient smile, a widow from her birth. The flower of my desire shall never drop into the dust before it has ripened to fruit. But it is the labour of a life time to make one's true self known and honoured. Therefore I have come to thy door, thou world-vanquishing Love, and thou, Vasanta, youthful Lord of the Seasons, take from my young body this primal injustice, an unattractive plainness. For a single day make me superbly beautiful, even as beautiful as was the sudden blooming of love in my heart. Give me but one brief day of perfect beauty, and I will answer for the days that follow. Madana Lady, I grant thy prayer. Vasanta Not for the short span of a day, but for one whole year the charm of spring blossoms shall nestle round thy limbs. SCENE II Arjuna WAS I dreaming or was what I saw by the lake truly there? Sitting on the mossy turf, I mused over bygone years in the sloping shadows of the evening, when slowly there came out from the folding darkness of foliage an apparition of beauty in the perfect form of a woman, and stood on a white slab of stone at the water's brink. It seemed that the heart of the earth must heave in joy under her bare white feet. Methought the vague veilings of her body should melt in ecstasy into air as the golden mist of dawn melts from off the snowy peak of the eastern hill. She bowed herself above the shining mirror of the lake and saw the reflection of her face. She started up in awe and stood still; then smiled, and with a careless sweep of her left arm unloosed her hair and let it trail on the earth at her feet. She bared her bosom and looked at her arms, so flawlessly modelled, and instinct with an exquisite caress. Bending her head she saw the sweet blossoming of her youth and the tender bloom and blush of her skin. She beamed with a glad surprise. So, if the white lotus bud on opening her eyes in the morning were to arch her neck and see her shadow in the water, would she wonder at herself the livelong day. But a moment after the smile passed from her face and a shade of sadness crept into her eyes. She bound up her tresses, drew her veil over her arms, and sighing slowly, walked away like a beauteous evening fading into the night. To me the supreme fulfilment of desire seemed to have been revealed in a flash and then to have vanished. . . . But who is it that pushes the door? Enter CHITRA, dressed as a woman. Ah! it is she. Quiet, my heart! . . . Fear me not, lady! I am a Kshatriya. Chitra Honoured sir, you are my guest. I live in this temple. I know not in what way I can show you hospitality. Arjuna Fair lady, the very sight of you is indeed the highest hospitality. If you will not take it amiss I would ask you a question. Chitra You have permission. Arjuna What stern vow keeps you immured in this solitary temple, depriving all mortals of a vision of so much loveliness? Chitra I harbour a secret desire in my heart, for the fulfilment of which I offer daily prayers to Lord Shiva. Arjuna Alas, what can you desire, you who are the desire of the whole world! From the easternmost hill on whose summit the morning sun first prints his fiery foot to the end of the sunset land have I travelled. I have seen whatever is most precious, beautiful and great on the earth. My knowledge shall be yours, only say for what or for whom you seek. Chitra He whom I seek is known to all. Arjuna Indeed! Who may this favourite of the gods be, whose fame has captured your heart? Chitra Sprung from the highest of all royal houses, the greatest of all heroes is he. Arjuna Lady, offer not such wealth of beauty as is yours on the altar of false reputation. Spurious fame spreads from tongue to tongue like the fog of the early dawn before the sun rises. Tell me who in the highest of kingly lines is the supreme hero? Chitra Hermit, you are jealous of other men's fame. Do you not know that all over the world the royal house of the Kurus is the most famous? Arjuna The house of the Kurus! Chitra And have you never heard of the greatest name of that far-famed house? Arjuna From your own lips let me hear it. Chitra Arjuna, the conqueror of the world. I have culled from the mouths of the multitude that imperishable name and hidden it with care in my maiden heart. Hermit, why do you look perturbed? Has that name only a deceitful glitter? Say so, and I will not hesitate to break this casket of my heart and throw the false gem to the dust. Arjuna Be his name and fame, his bravery and prowess false or true, for mercy's sake do not banish him from your heart--for he kneels at your feet even now. Chitra You, Arjuna! Arjuna Yes, I am he, the love-hungered guest at your door. Chitra Then it is not true that Arjuna has taken a vow of chastity for twelve long years? Arjuna But you have dissolved my vow even as the moon dissolves the night's vow of obscurity. Chitra Oh, shame upon you! What have you seen in me that makes you false to yourself? Whom do you seek in these dark eyes, in these milk-white arms, if you are ready to pay for her the price of your probity? Not my true self, I know. Surely this cannot be love, this is not man's highest homage to woman! Alas, that this frail disguise, the body, should make one blind to the light of the deathless spirit! Yes, now indeed, I know, Arjuna, the fame of your heroic manhood is false. Arjuna Ah, I feel how vain is fame, the pride of prowess! Everything seems to me a dream. You alone are perfect; you are the wealth of the world, the end of all poverty, the goal of all efforts, the one woman! Others there are who can be but slowly known. While to see you for a moment is to see perfect completeness once and for ever. Chitra Alas, it is not I, not I, Arjuna! It is the deceit of a god. Go, go, my hero, go. Woo not falsehood, offer not your great heart to an illusion. Go. SCENE III Chitra No, impossible. To face that fervent gaze that almost grasps you like clutching hands of the hungry spirit within; to feel his heart struggling to break its bounds urging its passionate cry through the entire body--and then to send him away like a beggar--no, impossible. Enter MADANA and VASANTA. Ah, god of love, what fearful flame is this with which thou hast enveloped me! I burn, and I burn whatever I touch. Madana I desire to know what happened last night. Chitra At evening I lay down on a grassy bed strewn with the petals of spring flowers, and recollected the wonderful praise of my beauty I had heard from Arjuna;--drinking drop by drop the honey that I had stored during the long day. The history of my past life like that of my former existences was forgotten. I felt like a flower, which has but a few fleeting hours to listen to all the humming flatteries and whispered murmurs of the woodlands and then must lower its eyes from the Sky, bend its head and at a breath give itself up to the dust without a cry, thus ending the short story of a perfect moment that has neither past nor future. Vasanta A limitless life of glory can bloom and spend itself in a morning. Madana Like an endless meaning in the narrow span of a song. Chitra The southern breeze caressed me to sleep. From the flowering Malati bower overhead silent kisses dropped over my body. On my hair, my breast, my feet, each flower chose a bed to die on. I slept. And, suddenly in the depth of my sleep, I felt as if some intense eager look, like tapering fingers of flame, touched my slumbering body. I started up and saw the Hermit standing before me. The moon had moved to the west, peering through the leaves to espy this wonder of divine art wrought in a fragile human frame. The air was heavy with perfume; the silence of the night was vocal with the chirping of crickets; the reflections of the trees hung motionless in the lake; and with his staff in his hand he stood, tall and straight and still, like a forest tree. It seemed to me that I had, on opening my eyes, died to all realities of life and undergone a dream birth into a shadow land. Shame slipped to my feet like loosened clothes. I heard his call--"Beloved, my most beloved!" And all my forgotten lives united as one and responded to it. I said, "Take me, take all I am!" And I stretched out my arms to him. The moon set behind the trees. One curtain of darkness covered all. Heaven and earth, time and space, pleasure and pain, death and life merged together in an unbearable ecstasy. . . . With the first gleam of light, the first twitter of birds, I rose up and sat leaning on my left arm. He lay asleep with a vague smile about his lips like the crescent moon in the morning. The rosy red glow of the dawn fell upon his noble forehead. I sighed and stood up. I drew together the leafy lianas to screen the streaming sun from his face. I looked about me and saw the same old earth. I remembered what I used to be, and ran and ran like a deer afraid of her own shadow, through the forest path strewn with shephali flowers. I found a lonely nook, and sitting down covered my face with both hands, and tried to weep and cry. But no tears came to my eyes. Madana Alas, thou daughter of mortals! I stole from the divine Storehouse the fragrant wine of heaven, filled with it one earthly night to the brim, and placed it in thy hand to drink-- yet still I hear this cry of anguish! Chitra [bitterly] Who drank it? The rarest completion of life's desire, the first union of love was proffered to me, but was wrested from my grasp? This borrowed beauty, this falsehood that enwraps me, will slip from me taking with it the only monument of that sweet union, as the petals fall from an overblown flower; and the woman ashamed of her naked poverty will sit weeping day and night. Lord Love, this cursed appearance companions me like a demon robbing me of all the prizes of love--all the kisses for which my heart is athirst. Madana Alas, how vain thy single night had been! The barque of joy came in sight, but the waves would not let it touch the shore. Chitra Heaven came so close to my hand that I forgot for a moment that it had not reached me. But when I woke in the morning from my dream I found that my body had become my own rival. It is my hateful task to deck her every day, to send her to my beloved and see her caressed by him. O god, take back thy boon! Madana But if I take it from you how can you stand before your lover? To snatch away the cup from his lips when he has scarcely drained his first draught of pleasure, would not that be cruel? With what resentful anger he must regard thee then? Chitra That would be better far than this. I will reveal my true self to him, a nobler thing than this disguise. If he rejects it, if he spurns me and breaks my heart, I will bear even that in silence. Vasanta Listen to my advice. When with the advent of autumn the flowering season is over then comes the triumph of fruitage. A time will come of itself when the heat-cloyed bloom of the body will droop and Arjuna will gladly accept the abiding fruitful truth in thee. O child, go back to thy mad festival. SCENE IV Chitra WHY do you watch me like that, my warrior? Arjuna I watch how you weave that garland. Skill and grace, the twin brother and sister, are dancing playfully on your finger tips. I am watching and thinking. Chitra What are you thinking, sir? Arjuna I am thinking that you, with this same lightness of touch and sweetness, are weaving my days of exile into an immortal wreath, to crown me when I return home. Chitra Home! But this love is not for a home! Arjuna Not for a home? Chitra No. Never talk of that. Take to your home what is abiding and strong. Leave the little wild flower where it was born; leave it beautifully to die at the day's end among all fading blossoms and decaying leaves. Do not take it to your palace hall to fling it on the stony floor which knows no pity for things that fade and are forgotten. Arjuna Is ours that kind of love? Chitra Yes, no other! Why regret it? That which was meant for idle days should never outlive them. Joy turns into pain when the door by which it should depart is shut against it. Take it and keep it as long as it lasts. Let not the satiety of your evening claim more than the desire of your morning could earn. . . . The day is done. Put this garland on. I am tired. Take me in your arms, my love. Let all vain bickerings of discontent die away at the sweet meeting of our lips. Arjuna Hush! Listen, my beloved, the sound of prayer bells from the distant village temple steals upon the evening air across the silent trees! SCENE V Vasanta I CANNOT keep pace with thee, my friend! I am tired. It is a hard task to keep alive the fire thou hast kindled. Sleep overtakes me, the fan drops from my hand, and cold ashes cover the glow of the fire. I start up again from my slumber and with all my might rescue the weary flame. But this can go on no longer. Madana I know, thou art as fickle as a child. Ever restless is thy play in heaven and on earth. Things that thou for days buildest up with endless detail thou dost shatter in a moment without regret. But this work of ours is nearly finished. Pleasure-winged days fly fast, and the year, almost at its end, swoons in rapturous bliss. SCENE VI Arjuna I WOKE in the morning and found that my dreams had distilled a gem. I have no casket to inclose it, no king's crown whereon to fix it, no chain from which to hang it, and yet have not the heart to throw it away. My Kshatriya's right arm, idly occupied in holding it, forgets its duties. Enter CHITRA. Chitra Tell me your thoughts, sir! Arjuna My mind is busy with thoughts of hunting today. See, how the rain pours in torrents and fiercely beats upon the hillside. The dark shadow of the clouds hangs heavily over the forest, and the swollen stream, like reckless youth, overleaps all barriers with mocking laughter. On such rainy days we five brothers would go to the Chitraka forest to chase wild beasts. Those were glad times. Our hearts danced to the drumbeat of rumbling clouds. The woods resounded with the screams of peacocks. Timid deer could not hear our approaching steps for the patter of rain and the noise of waterfalls; the leopards would leave their tracks on the wet earth, betraying their lairs. Our sport over, we dared each other to swim across turbulent streams on our way back home. The restless spirit is on me. I long to go hunting. Chitra First run down the quarry you are now following. Are you quite certain that the enchanted deer you pursue must needs be caught? No, not yet. Like a dream the wild creature eludes you when it seems most nearly yours. Look how the wind is chased by the mad rain that discharges a thousand arrows after it. Yet it goes free and unconquered. Our sport is like that, my love! You give chase to the fleet-footed spirit of beauty, aiming at her every dart you have in your hands. Yet this magic deer runs ever free and untouched. Arjuna My love, have you no home where kind hearts are waiting for your return? A home which you once made sweet with your gentle service and whose light went out when you left it for this wilderness? Chitra Why these questions? Are the hours of unthinking pleasure over? Do you not know that I am no more than what you see before you? For me there is no vista beyond. The dew that hangs on the tip of a Kinsuka petal has neither name nor destination. It offers no answer to any question. She whom you love is like that perfect bead of dew. Arjuna Has she no tie with the world? Can she be merely like a fragment of heaven dropped on the earth through the carelessness of a wanton god? Chitra Yes. Arjuna Ah, that is why I always seem about to lose you. My heart is unsatisfied, my mind knows no peace. Come closer to me, unattainable one! Surrender yourself to the bonds of name and home and parentage. Let my heart feel you on all sides and live with you in the peaceful security of love. Chitra Why this vain effort to catch and keep the tints of the clouds, the dance of the waves, the smell of the flowers? Arjuna Mistress mine, do not hope to pacify love with airy nothings. Give me something to clasp, something that can last longer than pleasure, that can endure even through suffering. Chitra Hero mine, the year is not yet full, and you are tired already! Now I know that it is Heaven's blessing that has made the flower's term of life short. Could this body of mine have drooped and died with the flowers of last spring it surely would have died with honour. Yet, its days are numbered, my love. Spare it not, press it dry of honey, for fear your beggar's heart come back to it again and again with unsated desire, like a thirsty bee when summer blossoms lie dead in the dust. SCENE VII Madana TONIGHT is thy last night. Vasanta The loveliness of your body will return tomorrow to the inexhaustible stores of the spring. The ruddy tint of thy lips freed from the memory of Arjuna's kisses, will bud anew as a pair of fresh asoka leaves, and the soft, white glow of thy skin will be born again in a hundred fragrant jasmine flowers. Chitra O gods, grant me this my prayer! Tonight, in its last hour let my beauty flash its brightest, like the final flicker of a dying flame. Madana Thou shalt have thy wish. SCENE VIII Villagers WHO will protect us now? Arjuna Why, by what danger are you threatened? Villagers The robbers are pouring from the northern hills like a mountain flood to devastate our village. Arjuna Have you in this kingdom no warden? Villagers Princess Chitra was the terror of all evil doers. While she was in this happy land we feared natural deaths, but had no other fears. Now she has gone on a pilgrimage, and none knows where to find her. Arjuna Is the warden of this country a woman? Villagers Yes, she is our father and mother in one. [Exeunt. Enter CHITRA. Chitra Why are you sitting all alone? Arjuna I am trying to imagine what kind of woman Princess Chitra may be. I hear so many stories of her from all sorts of men. Chitra Ah, but she is not beautiful. She has no such lovely eyes as mine, dark as death. She can pierce any target she will, but not our hero's heart. Arjuna They say that in valour she is a man, and a woman in tenderness. Chitra That, indeed, is her greatest misfortune. When a woman is merely a woman; when she winds herself round and round men's hearts with her smiles and sobs and services and caressing endearments; then she is happy. Of what use to her are learning and great achievements? Could you have seen her only yesterday in the court of the Lord Shiva's temple by the forest path, you would have passed by without deigning to look at her. But have you grown so weary of woman's beauty that you seek in her for a man's strength? With green leaves wet from the spray of the foaming waterfall, I have made our noonday bed in a cavern dark as night. There the cool of the soft green mosses thick on the black and dripping stone, kisses your eyes to sleep. Let me guide you thither. Arjuna Not today, beloved. Chitra Why not today? Arjuna I have heard that a horde of robbers has neared the plains. Needs must I go and prepare my weapons to protect the frightened villagers. Chitra You need have no fear for them. Before she started on her pilgrimage, Princess Chitra had set strong guards at all the frontier passes. Arjuna Yet permit me for a short while to set about a Kshatriya's work. With new glory will I ennoble this idle arm, and make of it a pillow more worthy of your head. Chitra What if I refuse to let you go, if I keep you entwined in my arms? Would you rudely snatch yourself free and leave me? Go then! But you must know that the liana, once broken in two, never joins again. Go, if your thirst is quenched. But, if not, then remember that the goddess of pleasure is fickle, and waits for no man. Sit for a while, my lord! Tell me what uneasy thoughts tease you. Who occupied your mind today? Is it Chitra? Arjuna Yes, it is Chitra. I wonder in fulfilment of what vow she has gone on her pilgrimage. Of what could she stand in need? Chitra Her needs? Why, what has she ever had, the unfortunate creature? Her very qualities are as prison walls, shutting her woman's heart in a bare cell. She is obscured, she is unfulfilled. Her womanly love must content itself dressed in rags; beauty is denied her. She is like the spirit of a cheerless morning, sitting upon the stony mountain peak, all her light blotted out by dark clouds. Do not ask me of her life. It will never sound sweet to man's ear. Arjuna I am eager to learn all about her. I am like a traveller come to a strange city at midnight. Domes and towers and garden-trees look vague and shadowy, and the dull moan of the sea comes fitfully through the silence of sleep. Wistfully he waits for the morning to reveal to him all the strange wonders. Oh, tell me her story. Chitra What more is there to tell? Arjuna I seem to see her, in my mind's eye, riding on a white horse, proudly holding the reins in her left hand, and in her right a bow, and like the Goddess of Victory dispensing glad hope all round her. Like a watchful lioness she protects the litter at her dugs with a fierce love. Woman's arms, though adorned with naught but unfettered strength, are beautiful! My heart is restless, fair one, like a serpent reviving from his long winter's sleep. Come, let us both race on swift horses side by side, like twin orbs of light sweeping through space. Out from this slumbrous prison of green gloom, this dank, dense cover of perfumed intoxication, choking breath. Chitra Arjuna, tell me true, if, now at once, by some magic I could shake myself free from this voluptuous softness, this timid bloom of beauty shrinking from the rude and healthy touch of the world, and fling it from my body like borrowed clothes, would you be able to bear it? If I stand up straight and strong with the strength of a daring heart spurning the wiles and arts of twining weakness, if I hold my head high like a tall young mountain fir, no longer trailing in the dust like a liana, shall I then appeal to man's eye? No, no, you could not endure it. It is better that I should keep spread about me all the dainty playthings of fugitive youth, and wait for you in patience. When it pleases you to return, I will smilingly pour out for you the wine of pleasure in the cup of this beauteous body. When you are tired and satiated with this wine, you can go to work or play; and when I grow old I will accept humbly and gratefully whatever corner is left for me. Would it please your heroic soul if the playmate of the night aspired to be the helpmeet of the day, if the left arm learnt to share the burden of the proud right arm? Arjuna I never seem to know you aright. You seem to me like a goddess hidden within a golden image. I cannot touch you, I cannot pay you my dues in return for your priceless gifts. Thus my love is incomplete. Sometimes in the enigmatic depth of your sad look, in your playful words mocking at their own meaning, I gain glimpses of a being trying to rend asunder the languorous grace of her body, to emerge in a chaste fire of pain through a vaporous veil of smiles. Illusion is the first appearance of Truth. She advances towards her lover in disguise. But a time comes when she throws off her ornaments and veils and stands clothed in naked dignity. I grope for that ultimate you, that bare simplicity of truth. Why these tears, my love? Why cover your face with your hands? Have I pained you, my darling? Forget what I said. I will be content with the present. Let each separate moment of beauty come to me like a bird of mystery from its unseen nest in the dark bearing a message of music. Let me for ever sit with my hope on the brink of its realization, and thus end my days. SCENE IX CHITRA and ARJUNA Chitra [cloaked] My lord, has the cup been drained to the last drop? Is this, indeed, the end? No, when all is done something still remains, and that is my last sacrifice at your feet. I brought from the garden of heaven flowers of incomparable beauty with which to worship you, god of my heart. If the rites are over, if the flowers have faded, let me throw them out of the temple [unveiling in her original male attire]. Now, look at your worshipper with gracious eyes. I am not beautifully perfect as the flowers with which I worshipped. I have many flaws and blemishes. I am a traveller in the great world-path, my garments are dirty, and my feet are bleeding with thorns. Where should I achieve flower-beauty, the unsullied loveliness of a moment's life? The gift that I proudly bring you is the heart of a woman. Here have all pains and joys gathered, the hopes and fears and shames of a daughter of the dust; here love springs up struggling toward immortal life. Herein lies an imperfection which yet is noble and grand. If the flower-service is finished, my master, accept this as your servant for the days to come! I am Chitra, the king's daughter. Perhaps you will remember the day when a woman came to you in the temple of Shiva, her body loaded with ornaments and finery. That shameless woman came to court you as though she were a man. You rejected her; you did well. My lord, I am that woman. She was my disguise. Then by the boon of gods I obtained for a year the most radiant form that a mortal ever wore, and wearied my hero's heart with the burden of that deceit. Most surely I am not that woman. I am Chitra. No goddess to be worshipped, nor yet the object of common pity to be brushed aside like a moth with indifference. If you deign to keep me by your side in the path of danger and daring, if you allow me to share the great duties of your life, then you will know my true self. If your babe, whom I am nourishing in my womb be born a son, I shall myself teach him to be a second Arjuna, and send him to you when the time comes, and then at last you will truly know me. Today I can only offer you Chitra, the daughter of a king. Arjuna Beloved, my life is full. 
2518	----	THE HUNGRY STONES AND OTHER STORIES By Rabindranath Tagore Contents: The Hungry Stones The Victory Once There Was A King The Home-coming My Lord, The Baby The Kingdom Of Cards The Devotee Vision The Babus Of Nayanjore Living Or Dead? "We Crown Thee King" The Renunciation The Cabuliwallah [The Fruitseller from Cabul] Preface: The stories contained in this volume were translated by several hands. The version of The Victory is the author's own work. The seven stories which follow were translated by Mr. C. F. Andrews, with the help of the author's help. Assistance has also been given by the Rev. E. J. Thompson, Panna Lal Basu, Prabhat Kumar Mukerjii, and the Sister Nivedita. THE HUNGRY STONES My kinsman and myself were returning to Calcutta from our Puja trip when we met the man in a train. From his dress and bearing we took him at first for an up-country Mahomedan, but we were puzzled as we heard him talk. He discoursed upon all subjects so confidently that you might think the Disposer of All Things consulted him at all times in all that He did. Hitherto we had been perfectly happy, as we did not know that secret and unheard-of forces were at work, that the Russians had advanced close to us, that the English had deep and secret policies, that confusion among the native chiefs had come to a head. But our newly-acquired friend said with a sly smile: "There happen more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are reported in your newspapers." As we had never stirred out of our homes before, the demeanour of the man struck us dumb with wonder. Be the topic ever so trivial, he would quote science, or comment on the Vedas, or repeat quatrains from some Persian poet; and as we had no pretence to a knowledge of science or the Vedas or Persian, our admiration for him went on increasing, and my kinsman, a theosophist, was firmly convinced that our fellow-passenger must have been supernaturally inspired by some strange "magnetism" or "occult power," by an "astral body" or something of that kind. He listened to the tritest saying that fell from the lips of our extraordinary companion with devotional rapture, and secretly took down notes of his conversation. I fancy that the extraordinary man saw this, and was a little pleased with it. When the train reached the junction, we assembled in the waiting room for the connection. It was then 10 P.M., and as the train, we heard, was likely to be very late, owing to something wrong in the lines, I spread my bed on the table and was about to lie down for a comfortable doze, when the extraordinary person deliberately set about spinning the following yarn. Of course, I could get no sleep that night. When, owing to a disagreement about some questions of administrative policy, I threw up my post at Junagarh, and entered the service of the Nizam of Hydria, they appointed me at once, as a strong young man, collector of cotton duties at Barich. Barich is a lovely place. The Susta "chatters over stony ways and babbles on the pebbles," tripping, like a skilful dancing girl, in through the woods below the lonely hills. A flight of 150 steps rises from the river, and above that flight, on the river's brim and at the foot of the hills, there stands a solitary marble palace. Around it there is no habitation of man--the village and the cotton mart of Barich being far off. About 250 years ago the Emperor Mahmud Shah II. had built this lonely palace for his pleasure and luxury. In his days jets of rose-water spurted from its fountains, and on the cold marble floors of its spray-cooled rooms young Persian damsels would sit, their hair dishevelled before bathing, and, splashing their soft naked feet in the clear water of the reservoirs, would sing, to the tune of the guitar, the ghazals of their vineyards. The fountains play no longer; the songs have ceased; no longer do snow-white feet step gracefully on the snowy marble. It is but the vast and solitary quarters of cess-collectors like us, men oppressed with solitude and deprived of the society of women. Now, Karim Khan, the old clerk of my office, warned me repeatedly not to take up my abode there. "Pass the day there, if you like," said he, "but never stay the night." I passed it off with a light laugh. The servants said that they would work till dark and go away at night. I gave my ready assent. The house had such a bad name that even thieves would not venture near it after dark. At first the solitude of the deserted palace weighed upon me like a nightmare. I would stay out, and work hard as long as possible, then return home at night jaded and tired, go to bed and fall asleep. Before a week had passed, the place began to exert a weird fascination upon me. It is difficult to describe or to induce people to believe; but I felt as if the whole house was like a living organism slowly and imperceptibly digesting me by the action of some stupefying gastric juice. Perhaps the process had begun as soon as I set my foot in the house, but I distinctly remember the day on which I first was conscious of it. It was the beginning of summer, and the market being dull I had no work to do. A little before sunset I was sitting in an arm-chair near the water's edge below the steps. The Susta had shrunk and sunk low; a broad patch of sand on the other side glowed with the hues of evening; on this side the pebbles at the bottom of the clear shallow waters were glistening. There was not a breath of wind anywhere, and the still air was laden with an oppressive scent from the spicy shrubs growing on the hills close by. As the sun sank behind the hill-tops a long dark curtain fell upon the stage of day, and the intervening hills cut short the time in which light and shade mingle at sunset. I thought of going out for a ride, and was about to get up when I heard a footfall on the steps behind. I looked back, but there was no one. As I sat down again, thinking it to be an illusion, I heard many footfalls, as if a large number of persons were rushing down the steps. A strange thrill of delight, slightly tinged with fear, passed through my frame, and though there was not a figure before my eyes, methought I saw a bevy of joyous maidens coming down the steps to bathe in the Susta in that summer evening. Not a sound was in the valley, in the river, or in the palace, to break the silence, but I distinctly heard the maidens' gay and mirthful laugh, like the gurgle of a spring gushing forth in a hundred cascades, as they ran past me, in quick playful pursuit of each other, towards the river, without noticing me at all. As they were invisible to me, so I was, as it were, invisible to them. The river was perfectly calm, but I felt that its still, shallow, and clear waters were stirred suddenly by the splash of many an arm jingling with bracelets, that the girls laughed and dashed and spattered water at one another, that the feet of the fair swimmers tossed the tiny waves up in showers of pearl. I felt a thrill at my heart--I cannot say whether the excitement was due to fear or delight or curiosity. I had a strong desire to see them more clearly, but naught was visible before me; I thought I could catch all that they said if I only strained my ears; but however hard I strained them, I heard nothing but the chirping of the cicadas in the woods. It seemed as if a dark curtain of 250 years was hanging before me, and I would fain lift a corner of it tremblingly and peer through, though the assembly on the other side was completely enveloped in darkness. The oppressive closeness of the evening was broken by a sudden gust of wind, and the still surface of the Suista rippled and curled like the hair of a nymph, and from the woods wrapt in the evening gloom there came forth a simultaneous murmur, as though they were awakening from a black dream. Call it reality or dream, the momentary glimpse of that invisible mirage reflected from a far-off world, 250 years old, vanished in a flash. The mystic forms that brushed past me with their quick unbodied steps, and loud, voiceless laughter, and threw themselves into the river, did not go back wringing their dripping robes as they went. Like fragrance wafted away by the wind they were dispersed by a single breath of the spring. Then I was filled with a lively fear that it was the Muse that had taken advantage of my solitude and possessed me--the witch had evidently come to ruin a poor devil like myself making a living by collecting cotton duties. I decided to have a good dinner--it is the empty stomach that all sorts of incurable diseases find an easy prey. I sent for my cook and gave orders for a rich, sumptuous moghlai dinner, redolent of spices and ghi. Next morning the whole affair appeared a queer fantasy. With a light heart I put on a sola hat like the sahebs, and drove out to my work. I was to have written my quarterly report that day, and expected to return late; but before it was dark I was strangely drawn to my house--by what I could not say--I felt they were all waiting, and that I should delay no longer. Leaving my report unfinished I rose, put on my sola hat, and startling the dark, shady, desolate path with the rattle of my carriage, I reached the vast silent palace standing on the gloomy skirts of the hills. On the first floor the stairs led to a very spacious hall, its roof stretching wide over ornamental arches resting on three rows of massive pillars, and groaning day and night under the weight of its own intense solitude. The day had just closed, and the lamps had not yet been lighted. As I pushed the door open a great bustle seemed to follow within, as if a throng of people had broken up in confusion, and rushed out through the doors and windows and corridors and verandas and rooms, to make its hurried escape. As I saw no one I stood bewildered, my hair on end in a kind of ecstatic delight, and a faint scent of attar and unguents almost effected by age lingered in my nostrils. Standing in the darkness of that vast desolate hall between the rows of those ancient pillars, I could hear the gurgle of fountains plashing on the marble floor, a strange tune on the guitar, the jingle of ornaments and the tinkle of anklets, the clang of bells tolling the hours, the distant note of nahabat, the din of the crystal pendants of chandeliers shaken by the breeze, the song of bulbuls from the cages in the corridors, the cackle of storks in the gardens, all creating round me a strange unearthly music. Then I came under such a spell that this intangible, inaccessible, unearthly vision appeared to be the only reality in the world--and all else a mere dream. That I, that is to say, Srijut So-and-so, the eldest son of So-and-so of blessed memory, should be drawing a monthly salary of Rs. 450 by the discharge of my duties as collector of cotton duties, and driving in my dog-cart to my office every day in a short coat and soia hat, appeared to me to be such an astonishingly ludicrous illusion that I burst into a horse-laugh, as I stood in the gloom of that vast silent hall. At that moment my servant entered with a lighted kerosene lamp in his hand. I do not know whether he thought me mad, but it came back to me at once that I was in very deed Srijut So-and-so, son of So-and-so of blessed memory, and that, while our poets, great and small, alone could say whether inside of or outside the earth there was a region where unseen fountains perpetually played and fairy guitars, struck by invisible fingers, sent forth an eternal harmony, this at any rate was certain, that I collected duties at the cotton market at Banch, and earned thereby Rs. 450 per mensem as my salary. I laughed in great glee at my curious illusion, as I sat over the newspaper at my camp-table, lighted by the kerosene lamp. After I had finished my paper and eaten my moghlai dinner, I put out the lamp, and lay down on my bed in a small side-room. Through the open window a radiant star, high above the Avalli hills skirted by the darkness of their woods, was gazing intently from millions and millions of miles away in the sky at Mr. Collector lying on a humble camp-bedstead. I wondered and felt amused at the idea, and do not knew when I fell asleep or how long I slept; but I suddenly awoke with a start, though I heard no sound and saw no intruder--only the steady bright star on the hilltop had set, and the dim light of the new moon was stealthily entering the room through the open window, as if ashamed of its intrusion. I saw nobody, but felt as if some one was gently pushing me. As I awoke she said not a word, but beckoned me with her five fingers bedecked with rings to follow her cautiously. I got up noiselessly, and, though not a soul save myself was there in the countless apartments of that deserted palace with its slumbering sounds and waiting echoes, I feared at every step lest any one should wake up. Most of the rooms of the palace were always kept closed, and I had never entered them. I followed breathless and with silent steps my invisible guide--I cannot now say where. What endless dark and narrow passages, what long corridors, what silent and solemn audience-chambers and close secret cells I crossed! Though I could not see my fair guide, her form was not invisible to my mind's eye,--an Arab girl, her arms, hard and smooth as marble, visible through her loose sleeves, a thin veil falling on her face from the fringe of her cap, and a curved dagger at her waist! Methought that one of the thousand and one Arabian Nights had been wafted to me from the world of romance, and that at the dead of night I was wending my way through the dark narrow alleys of slumbering Bagdad to a trysting-place fraught with peril. At last my fair guide stopped abruptly before a deep blue screen, and seemed to point to something below. There was nothing there, but a sudden dread froze the blood in my heart-methought I saw there on the floor at the foot of the screen a terrible negro eunuch dressed in rich brocade, sitting and dozing with outstretched legs, with a naked sword on his lap. My fair guide lightly tripped over his legs and held up a fringe of the screen. I could catch a glimpse of a part of the room spread with a Persian carpet--some one was sitting inside on a bed--I could not see her, but only caught a glimpse of two exquisite feet in gold-embroidered slippers, hanging out from loose saffron-coloured paijamas and placed idly on the orange-coloured velvet carpet. On one side there was a bluish crystal tray on which a few apples, pears, oranges, and bunches of grapes in plenty, two small cups and a gold-tinted decanter were evidently waiting the guest. A fragrant intoxicating vapour, issuing from a strange sort of incense that burned within, almost overpowered my senses. As with trembling heart I made an attempt to step across the outstretched legs of the eunuch, he woke up suddenly with a start, and the sword fell from his lap with a sharp clang on the marble floor. A terrific scream made me jump, and I saw I was sitting on that camp-bedstead of mine sweating heavily; and the crescent moon looked pale in the morning light like a weary sleepless patient at dawn; and our crazy Meher Ali was crying out, as is his daily custom, "Stand back! Stand back!!" while he went along the lonely road. Such was the abrupt close of one of my Arabian Nights; but there were yet a thousand nights left. Then followed a great discord between my days and nights. During the day I would go to my work worn and tired, cursing the bewitching night and her empty dreams, but as night came my daily life with its bonds and shackles of work would appear a petty, false, ludicrous vanity. After nightfall I was caught and overwhelmed in the snare of a strange intoxication, I would then be transformed into some unknown personage of a bygone age, playing my part in unwritten history; and my short English coat and tight breeches did not suit me in the least. With a red velvet cap on my head, loose paijamas, an embroidered vest, a long flowing silk gown, and coloured handkerchiefs scented with attar, I would complete my elaborate toilet, sit on a high-cushioned chair, and replace my cigarette with a many-coiled narghileh filled with rose-water, as if in eager expectation of a strange meeting with the beloved one. I have no power to describe the marvellous incidents that unfolded themselves, as the gloom of the night deepened. I felt as if in the curious apartments of that vast edifice the fragments of a beautiful story, which I could follow for some distance, but of which I could never see the end, flew about in a sudden gust of the vernal breeze. And all the same I would wander from room to room in pursuit of them the whole night long. Amid the eddy of these dream-fragments, amid the smell of henna and the twanging of the guitar, amid the waves of air charged with fragrant spray, I would catch like a flash of lightning the momentary glimpse of a fair damsel. She it was who had saffron-coloured paijamas, white ruddy soft feet in gold-embroidered slippers with curved toes, a close-fitting bodice wrought with gold, a red cap, from which a golden frill fell on her snowy brow and cheeks. She had maddened me. In pursuit of her I wandered from room to room, from path to path among the bewildering maze of alleys in the enchanted dreamland of the nether world of sleep. Sometimes in the evening, while arraying myself carefully as a prince of the blood-royal before a large mirror, with a candle burning on either side, I would see a sudden reflection of the Persian beauty by the side of my own. A swift turn of her neck, a quick eager glance of intense passion and pain glowing in her large dark eyes, just a suspicion of speech on her dainty red lips, her figure, fair and slim crowned with youth like a blossoming creeper, quickly uplifted in her graceful tilting gait, a dazzling flash of pain and craving and ecstasy, a smile and a glance and a blaze of jewels and silk, and she melted away. A wild glist of wind, laden with all the fragrance of hills and woods, would put out my light, and I would fling aside my dress and lie down on my bed, my eyes closed and my body thrilling with delight, and there around me in the breeze, amid all the perfume of the woods and hills, floated through the silent gloom many a caress and many a kiss and many a tender touch of hands, and gentle murmurs in my ears, and fragrant breaths on my brow; or a sweetly-perfumed kerchief was wafted again and again on my cheeks. Then slowly a mysterious serpent would twist her stupefying coils about me; and heaving a heavy sigh, I would lapse into insensibility, and then into a profound slumber. One evening I decided to go out on my horse--I do not know who implored me to stay-but I would listen to no entreaties that day. My English hat and coat were resting on a rack, and I was about to take them down when a sudden whirlwind, crested with the sands of the Susta and the dead leaves of the Avalli hills, caught them up, and whirled them round and round, while a loud peal of merry laughter rose higher and higher, striking all the chords of mirth till it died away in the land of sunset. I could not go out for my ride, and the next day I gave up my queer English coat and hat for good. That day again at dead of night I heard the stifled heart-breaking sobs of some one--as if below the bed, below the floor, below the stony foundation of that gigantic palace, from the depths of a dark damp grave, a voice piteously cried and implored me: "Oh, rescue me! Break through these doors of hard illusion, deathlike slumber and fruitless dreams, place by your side on the saddle, press me to your heart, and, riding through hills and woods and across the river, take me to the warm radiance of your sunny rooms above!" Who am I? Oh, how can I rescue thee? What drowning beauty, what incarnate passion shall I drag to the shore from this wild eddy of dreams? O lovely ethereal apparition! Where didst thou flourish and when? By what cool spring, under the shade of what date-groves, wast thou born--in the lap of what homeless wanderer in the desert? What Bedouin snatched thee from thy mother's arms, an opening bud plucked from a wild creeper, placed thee on a horse swift as lightning, crossed the burning sands, and took thee to the slave-market of what royal city? And there, what officer of the Badshah, seeing the glory of thy bashful blossoming youth, paid for thee in gold, placed thee in a golden palanquin, and offered thee as a present for the seraglio of his master? And O, the history of that place! The music of the sareng, the jingle of anklets, the occasional flash of daggers and the glowing wine of Shiraz poison, and the piercing flashing glance! What infinite grandeur, what endless servitude! The slave-girls to thy right and left waved the chamar as diamonds flashed from their bracelets; the Badshah, the king of kings, fell on his knees at thy snowy feet in bejewelled shoes, and outside the terrible Abyssinian eunuch, looking like a messenger of death, but clothed like an angel, stood with a naked sword in his hand! Then, O, thou flower of the desert, swept away by the blood-stained dazzling ocean of grandeur, with its foam of jealousy, its rocks and shoals of intrigue, on what shore of cruel death wast thou cast, or in what other land more splendid and more cruel? Suddenly at this moment that crazy Meher Ali screamed out: "Stand back! Stand back!! All is false! All is false!!" I opened my eyes and saw that it was already light. My chaprasi came and handed me my letters, and the cook waited with a salam for my orders. I said; "No, I can stay here no longer." That very day I packed up, and moved to my office. Old Karim Khan smiled a little as he saw me. I felt nettled, but said nothing, and fell to my work. As evening approached I grew absent-minded; I felt as if I had an appointment to keep; and the work of examining the cotton accounts seemed wholly useless; even the Nizamat of the Nizam did not appear to be of much worth. Whatever belonged to the present, whatever was moving and acting and working for bread seemed trivial, meaningless, and contemptible. I threw my pen down, closed my ledgers, got into my dog-cart, and drove away. I noticed that it stopped of itself at the gate of the marble palace just at the hour of twilight. With quick steps I climbed the stairs, and entered the room. A heavy silence was reigning within. The dark rooms were looking sullen as if they had taken offence. My heart was full of contrition, but there was no one to whom I could lay it bare, or of whom I could ask forgiveness. I wandered about the dark rooms with a vacant mind. I wished I had a guitar to which I could sing to the unknown: "O fire, the poor moth that made a vain effort to fly away has come back to thee! Forgive it but this once, burn its wings and consume it in thy flame!" Suddenly two tear-drops fell from overhead on my brow. Dark masses of clouds overcast the top of the Avalli hills that day. The gloomy woods and the sooty waters of the Susta were waiting in terrible suspense and in an ominous calm. Suddenly land, water, and sky shivered, and a wild tempest-blast rushed howling through the distant pathless woods, showing its lightning-teeth like a raving maniac who had broken his chains. The desolate halls of the palace banged their doors, and moaned in the bitterness of anguish. The servants were all in the office, and there was no one to light the lamps. The night was cloudy and moonless. In the dense gloom within I could distinctly feel that a woman was lying on her face on the carpet below the bed--clasping and tearing her long dishevelled hair with desperate fingers. Blood was tricking down her fair brow, and she was now laughing a hard, harsh, mirthless laugh, now bursting into violent wringing sobs, now rending her bodice and striking at her bare bosom, as the wind roared in through the open window, and the rain poured in torrents and soaked her through and through. All night there was no cessation of the storm or of the passionate cry. I wandered from room to room in the dark, with unavailing sorrow. Whom could I console when no one was by? Whose was this intense agony of sorrow? Whence arose this inconsolable grief? And the mad man cried out: "Stand back! Stand back!! All is false! All is false!!" I saw that the day had dawned, and Meher Ali was going round and round the palace with his usual cry in that dreadful weather. Suddenly it came to me that perhaps he also had once lived in that house, and that, though he had gone mad, he came there every day, and went round and round, fascinated by the weird spell cast by the marble demon. Despite the storm and rain I ran to him and asked: "Ho, Meher Ali, what is false?" The man answered nothing, but pushing me aside went round and round with his frantic cry, like a bird flying fascinated about the jaws of a snake, and made a desperate effort to warn himself by repeating: "Stand back! Stand back!! All is false! All is false!!" I ran like a mad man through the pelting rain to my office, and asked Karim Khan: "Tell me the meaning of all this!" What I gathered from that old man was this: That at one time countless unrequited passions and unsatisfied longings and lurid flames of wild blazing pleasure raged within that palace, and that the curse of all the heart-aches and blasted hopes had made its every stone thirsty and hungry, eager to swallow up like a famished ogress any living man who might chance to approach. Not one of those who lived there for three consecutive nights could escape these cruel jaws, save Meher Ali, who had escaped at the cost of his reason. I asked: "Is there no means whatever of my release?" The old man said: "There is only one means, and that is very difficult. I will tell you what it is, but first you must hear the history of a young Persian girl who once lived in that pleasure-dome. A stranger or a more bitterly heart-rending tragedy was never enacted on this earth." Just at this moment the coolies announced that the train was coming. So soon? We hurriedly packed up our luggage, as the tram steamed in. An English gentleman, apparently just aroused from slumber, was looking out of a first-class carriage endeavouring to read the name of the station. As soon as he caught sight of our fellow-passenger, he cried, "Hallo," and took him into his own compartment. As we got into a second-class carriage, we had no chance of finding out who the man was nor what was the end of his story. I said; "The man evidently took us for fools and imposed upon us out of fun. The story is pure fabrication from start to finish." The discussion that followed ended in a lifelong rupture between my theosophist kinsman and myself. THE VICTORY She was the Princess Ajita. And the court poet of King Narayan had never seen her. On the day he recited a new poem to the king he would raise his voice just to that pitch which could be heard by unseen hearers in the screened balcony high above the hall. He sent up his song towards the star-land out of his reach, where, circled with light, the planet who ruled his destiny shone unknown and out of ken. He would espy some shadow moving behind the veil. A tinkling sound would come to his car from afar, and would set him dreaming of the ankles whose tiny golden bells sang at each step. Ah, the rosy red tender feet that walked the dust of the earth like God's mercy on the fallen! The poet had placed them on the altar of his heart, where he wove his songs to the tune of those golden bells. Doubt never arose in his mind as to whose shadow it was that moved behind the screen, and whose anklets they were that sang to the time of his beating heart. Manjari, the maid of the princess, passed by the poet's house on her way to the river, and she never missed a day to have a few words with him on the sly. When she found the road deserted, and the shadow of dusk on the land, she would boldly enter his room, and sit at the corner of his carpet. There was a suspicion of an added care in the choice of the colour of her veil, in the setting of the flower in her hair. People smiled and whispered at this, and they were not to blame. For Shekhar the poet never took the trouble to hide the fact that these meetings were a pure joy to him. The meaning of her name was the spray of flowers. One must confess that for an ordinary mortal it was sufficient in its sweetness. But Shekhar made his own addition to this name, and called her the Spray of Spring Flowers. And ordinary mortals shook their heads and said, Ah, me! In the spring songs that the poet sang the praise of the spray of spring flowers was conspicuously reiterated; and the king winked and smiled at him when he heard it, and the poet smiled in answer. The king would put him the question; "Is it the business of the bee merely to hum in the court of the spring?" The poet would answer; "No, but also to sip the honey of the spray of spring flowers." And they all laughed in the king's hall. And it was rumoured that the Princess Akita also laughed at her maid's accepting the poet's name for her, and Manjari felt glad in her heart. Thus truth and falsehood mingle in life--and to what God builds man adds his own decoration. Only those were pure truths which were sung by the poet. The theme was Krishna, the lover god, and Radha, the beloved, the Eternal Man and the Eternal Woman, the sorrow that comes from the beginning of time, and the joy without end. The truth of these songs was tested in his inmost heart by everybody from the beggar to the king himself. The poet's songs were on the lips of all. At the merest glimmer of the moon and the faintest whisper of the summer breeze his songs would break forth in the land from windows and courtyards, from sailing-boats, from shadows of the wayside trees, in numberless voices. Thus passed the days happily. The poet recited, the king listened, the hearers applauded, Manjari passed and repassed by the poet's room on her way to the river--the shadow flitted behind the screened balcony, and the tiny golden bells tinkled from afar. Just then set forth from his home in the south a poet on his path of conquest. He came to King Narayan, in the kingdom of Amarapur. He stood before the throne, and uttered a verse in praise of the king. He had challenged all the court poets on his way, and his career of victory had been unbroken. The king received him with honour, and said: "Poet, I offer you welcome." Pundarik, the poet, proudly replied: "Sire, I ask for war." Shekhar, the court poet of the king did not know how the battle of the muse was to be waged. He had no sleep at night. The mighty figure of the famous Pundarik, his sharp nose curved like a scimitar, and his proud head tilted on one side, haunted the poet's vision in the dark. With a trembling heart Shekhar entered the arena in the morning. The theatre was filled with the crowd. The poet greeted his rival with a smile and a bow. Pundarik returned it with a slight toss of his head, and turned his face towards his circle of adoring followers with a meaning smile. Shekhar cast his glance towards the screened balcony high above, and saluted his lady in his mind, saying! "If I am the winner at the combat to-day, my lady, thy victorious name shall be glorified." The trumpet sounded. The great crowd stood up, shouting victory to the king. The king, dressed in an ample robe of white, slowly came into the hall like a floating cloud of autumn, and sat on his throne. Pundarik stood up, and the vast hall became still. With his head raised high and chest expanded, he began in his thundering voice to recite the praise of King Narayan. His words burst upon the walls of the hall like breakers of the sea, and seemed to rattle against the ribs of the listening crowd. The skill with which he gave varied meanings to the name Narayan, and wove each letter of it through the web of his verses in all mariner of combinations, took away the breath of his amazed hearers. For some minutes after he took his seat his voice continued to vibrate among the numberless pillars of the king's court and in thousands of speechless hearts. The learned professors who had come from distant lands raised their right hands, and cried, Bravo! The king threw a glance on Shekhar's face, and Shekhar in answer raised for a moment his eyes full of pain towards his master, and then stood up like a stricken deer at bay. His face was pale, his bashfulness was almost that of a woman, his slight youthful figure, delicate in its outline, seemed like a tensely strung vina ready to break out in music at the least touch. His head was bent, his voice was low, when he began. The first few verses were almost inaudible. Then he slowly raised his head, and his clear sweet voice rose into the sky like a quivering flame of fire. He began with the ancient legend of the kingly line lost in the haze of the past, and brought it down through its long course of heroism and matchless generosity to the present age. He fixed his gaze on the king's face, and all the vast and unexpressed love of the people for the royal house rose like incense in his song, and enwreathed the throne on all sides. These were his last words when, trembling, he took his seat: "My master, I may be beaten in play of words, but not in my love for thee." Tears filled the eyes of the hearers, and the stone walls shook with cries of victory. Mocking this popular outburst of feeling, with an august shake of his head and a contemptuous sneer, Pundarik stood up, and flung this question to the assembly; "What is there superior to words?" In a moment the hall lapsed into silence again. Then with a marvellous display of learning, he proved that the Word was in the beginning, that the Word was God. He piled up quotations from scriptures, and built a high altar for the Word to be seated above all that there is in heaven and in earth. He repeated that question in his mighty voice: "What is there superior to words?" Proudly he looked around him. None dared to accept his challenge, and he slowly took his seat like a lion who had just made a full meal of its victim. The pandits shouted, Bravo! The king remained silent with wonder, and the poet Shekhar felt himself of no account by the side of this stupendous learning. The assembly broke up for that day. Next day Shekhar began his song. It was of that day when the pipings of love's flute startled for the first time the hushed air of the Vrinda forest. The shepherd women did not know who was the player or whence came the music. Sometimes it seemed to come from the heart of the south wind, and sometimes from the straying clouds of the hilltops. It came with a message of tryst from the land of the sunrise, and it floated from the verge of sunset with its sigh of sorrow. The stars seemed to be the stops of the instrument that flooded the dreams of the night with melody. The music seemed to burst all at once from all sides, from fields and groves, from the shady lanes and lonely roads, from the melting blue of the sky, from the shimmering green of the grass. They neither knew its meaning nor could they find words to give utterance to the desire of their hearts. Tears filled their eyes, and their life seemed to long for a death that would be its consummation. Shekhar forgot his audience, forgot the trial of his strength with a rival. He stood alone amid his thoughts that rustled and quivered round him like leaves in a summer breeze, and sang the Song of the Flute. He had in his mind the vision of an image that had taken its shape from a shadow, and the echo of a faint tinkling sound of a distant footstep. He took his seat. His hearers trembled with the sadness of an indefinable delight, immense and vague, and they forgot to applaud him. As this feeling died away Pundarik stood up before the throne and challenged his rival to define who was this Lover and who was the Beloved. He arrogantly looked around him, he smiled at his followers and then put the question again: "Who is Krishna, the lover, and who is Radha, the beloved?" Then he began to analyse the roots of those names,--and various interpretations of their meanings. He brought before the bewildered audience all the intricacies of the different schools of metaphysics with consummate skill. Each letter of those names he divided from its fellow, and then pursued them with a relentless logic till they fell to the dust in confusion, to be caught up again and restored to a meaning never before imagined by the subtlest of word-mongers. The pandits were in ecstasy; they applauded vociferously; and the crowd followed them, deluded into the certainty that they had witnessed, that day, the last shred of the curtains of Truth torn to pieces before their eyes by a prodigy of intellect. The performance of his tremendous feat so delighted them that they forgot to ask themselves if there was any truth behind it after all. The king's mind was overwhelmed with wonder. The atmosphere was completely cleared of all illusion of music, and the vision of the world around seemed to be changed from its freshness of tender green to the solidity of a high road levelled and made hard with crushed stones. To the people assembled their own poet appeared a mere boy in comparison with this giant, who walked with such case, knocking down difficulties at each step in the world of words and thoughts. It became evident to them for the first time that the poems Shekhar wrote were absurdly simple, and it must be a mere accident that they did not write them themselves. They were neither new, nor difficult, nor instructive, nor necessary. The king tried to goad his poet with keen glances, silently inciting him to make a final effort. But Shekhar took no notice, and remained fixed to his seat. The king in anger came down from his throne--took off his pearl chain and put it on Pundarik's head. Everybody in the hall cheered. From the upper balcony came a slight sound of the movements of rustling robes and waist-chains hung with golden bells. Shekhar rose from his seat and left the hall. It was a dark night of waning moon. The poet Shekhar took down his MSS. from his shelves and heaped them on the floor. Some of them contained his earliest writings, which he had almost forgotten. He turned over the pages, reading passages here and there. They all seemed to him poor and trivial--mere words and childish rhymes! One by one he tore his books to fragments, and threw them into a vessel containing fire, and said: "To thee, to thee, O my beauty, my fire! Thou hast been burning in my heart all these futile years. If my life were a piece of gold it would come out of its trial brighter, but it is a trodden turf of grass, and nothing remains of it but this handful of ashes." The night wore on. Shekhar opened wide his windows. He spread upon his bed the white flowers that he loved, the jasmines, tuberoses and chrysanthemums, and brought into his bedroom all the lamps he had in his house and lighted them. Then mixing with honey the juice of some poisonous root he drank it and lay down on his bed. Golden anklets tinkled in the passage outside the door, and a subtle perfume came into the room with the breeze. The poet, with his eyes shut, said; "My lady, have you taken pity upon your servant at last and come to see him?" The answer came in a sweet voice "My poet, I have come." Shekhar opened his eyes--and saw before his bed the figure of a woman. His sight was dim and blurred. And it seemed to him that the image made of a shadow that he had ever kept throned in the secret shrine of his heart had come into the outer world in his last moment to gaze upon his face. The woman said; "I am the Princess Ajita." The poet with a great effort sat up on his bed. The princess whispered into his car: "The king has not done you justice. It was you who won at the combat, my poet, and I have come to crown you with the crown of victory." She took the garland of flowers from her own neck, and put it on his hair, and the poet fell down upon his bed stricken by death. ONCE THERE WAS A KING "Once upon a time there was a king." When we were children there was no need to know who the king in the fairy story was. It didn't matter whether he was called Shiladitya or Shaliban, whether he lived at Kashi or Kanauj. The thing that made a seven-year-old boy's heart go thump, thump with delight was this one sovereign truth; this reality of all realities: "Once there was a king." But the readers of this modern age are far more exact and exacting. When they hear such an opening to a story, they are at once critical and suspicious. They apply the searchlight of science to its legendary haze and ask: "Which king?" The story-tellers have become more precise in their turn. They are no longer content with the old indefinite, "There was a king," but assume instead a look of profound learning, and begin: "Once there was a king named Ajatasatru," The modern reader's curiosity, however, is not so easily satisfied. He blinks at the author through his scientific spectacles, and asks again: "Which Ajatasatru?" "Every schoolboy knows," the author proceeds, "that there were three Ajatasatrus. The first was born in the twentieth century B.C., and died at the tender age of two years and eight months, I deeply regret that it is impossible to find, from any trustworthy source, a detailed account of his reign. The second Ajatasatru is better known to historians. If you refer to the new Encyclopedia of History...." By this time the modern reader's suspicions are dissolved. He feels he may safely trust his author. He says to himself: "Now we shall have a story that is both improving and instructive." Ah! how we all love to be deluded! We have a secret dread of being thought ignorant. And we end by being ignorant after all, only we have done it in a long and roundabout way. There is an English proverb; "Ask me no questions, and I will tell you no lies." The boy of seven who is listening to a fairy story understands that perfectly well; he withholds his questions, while the story is being told. So the pure and beautiful falsehood of it all remains naked and innocent as a babe; transparent as truth itself; limpid as afresh bubbling spring. But the ponderous and learned lie of our moderns has to keep its true character draped and veiled. And if there is discovered anywhere the least little peep-hole of deception, the reader turns away with a prudish disgust, and the author is discredited. When we were young, we understood all sweet things; and we could detect the sweets of a fairy story by an unerring science of our own. We never cared for such useless things as knowledge. We only cared for truth. And our unsophisticated little hearts knew well where the Crystal Palace of Truth lay and how to reach it. But to-day we are expected to write pages of facts, while the truth is simply this: "There was a king." I remember vividly that evening in Calcutta when the fairy story began. The rain and the storm had been incessant. The whole of the city was flooded. The water was knee-deep in our lane. I had a straining hope, which was almost a certainty, that my tutor would be prevented from coming that evening. I sat on the stool in the far corner of the veranda looking down the lane, with a heart beating faster and faster. Every minute I kept my eye on the rain, and when it began to grow less I prayed with all my might; "Please, God, send some more rain till half-past seven is over." For I was quite ready to believe that there was no other need for rain except to protect one helpless boy one evening in one corner of Calcutta from the deadly clutches of his tutor. If not in answer to my prayer, at any rate according to some grosser law of physical nature, the rain did not give up. But, alas! nor did my teacher. Exactly to the minute, in the bend of the lane, I saw his approaching umbrella. The great bubble of hope burst in my breast, and my heart collapsed. Truly, if there is a punishment to fit the crime after death, then my tutor will be born again as me, and I shall be born as my tutor. As soon as I saw his umbrella I ran as hard as I could to my mother's room. My mother and my grandmother were sitting opposite one another playing cards by the light of a lamp. I ran into the room, and flung myself on the bed beside my mother, and said: "Mother dear, the tutor has come, and I have such a bad headache; couldn't I have no lessons today?" I hope no child of immature age will be allowed to read this story, and I sincerely trust it will not be used in text-books or primers for schools. For what I did was dreadfully bad, and I received no punishment whatever. On the contrary, my wickedness was crowned with success. My mother said to me: "All right," and turning to the servant added: "Tell the tutor that he can go back home." It was perfectly plain that she didn't think my illness very serious, as she went on with her game as before, and took no further notice. And I also, burying my head in the pillow, laughed to my heart's content. We perfectly understood one another, my mother and I. But every one must know how hard it is for a boy of seven years old to keep up the illusion of illness for a long time. After about a minute I got hold of Grandmother, and said: "Grannie, do tell me a story." I had to ask this many times. Grannie and Mother went on playing cards, and took no notice. At last Mother said to me: "Child, don't bother. Wait till we've finished our game." But I persisted: "Grannie, do tell me a story." I told Mother she could finish her game to-morrow, but she must let Grannie tell me a story there and then. At last Mother threw down the cards and said: "You had better do what he wants. I can't manage him." Perhaps she had it in her mind that she would have no tiresome tutor on the morrow, while I should be obliged to be back to those stupid lessons. As soon as ever Mother had given way, I rushed at Grannie. I got hold of her hand, and, dancing with delight, dragged her inside my mosquito curtain on to the bed. I clutched hold of the bolster with both hands in my excitement, and jumped up and down with joy, and when I had got a little quieter, said: "Now, Grannie, let' s have the story!" Grannie went on: "And the king had a queen." That was good to begin with. He had only one. It is usual for kings in fairy stories to be extravagant in queens. And whenever we hear that there are two queens, our hearts begin to sink. One is sure to be unhappy. But in Grannie's story that danger was past. He had only one queen. We next hear that the king had not got any son. At the age of seven I didn't think there was any need to bother if a man had had no son. He might only have been in the way. Nor are we greatly excited when we hear that the king has gone away into the forest to practise austerities in order to get a son. There was only one thing that would have made me go into the forest, and that was to get away from my tutor! But the king left behind with his queen a small girl, who grew up into a beautiful princess. Twelve years pass away, and the king goes on practising austerities, and never thinks all this while of his beautiful daughter. The princess has reached the full bloom of her youth. The age of marriage has passed, but the king does not return. And the queen pines away with grief and cries: "Is my golden daughter destined to die unmarried? Ah me! What a fate is mine." Then the queen sent men to the king to entreat him earnestly to come back for a single night and take one meal in the palace. And the king consented. The queen cooked with her own hand, and with the greatest care, sixty-four dishes, and made a seat for him of sandal-wood, and arranged the food in plates of gold and cups of silver. The princess stood behind with the peacock-tail fan in her hand. The king, after twelve years' absence, came into the house, and the princess waved the fan, lighting up all the room with her beauty. The king looked in his daughter's face, and forgot to take his food. At last he asked his queen: "Pray, who is this girl whose beauty shines as the gold image of the goddess? Whose daughter is she?" The queen beat her forehead, and cried: "Ah, how evil is my fate! Do you not know your own daughter?" The king was struck with amazement. He said at last; "My tiny daughter has grown to be a woman." "What else?" the queen said with a sigh. "Do you not know that twelve years have passed by?" "But why did you not give her in marriage?" asked the king. "You were away," the queen said. "And how could I find her a suitable husband?" The king became vehement with excitement. "The first man I see to-morrow," he said, "when I come out of the palace shall marry her." The princess went on waving her fan of peacock feathers, and the king finished his meal. The next morning, as the king came out of his palace, he saw the son of a Brahman gathering sticks in the forest outside the palace gates. His age was about seven or eight. The king said: "I will marry my daughter to him." Who can interfere with a king's command? At once the boy was called, and the marriage garlands were exchanged between him and the princess. At this point I came up close to my wise Grannie and asked her eagerly: "What then?" In the bottom of my heart there was a devout wish to substitute myself for that fortunate wood-gatherer of seven years old. The night was resonant with the patter of rain. The earthen lamp by my bedside was burning low. My grandmother's voice droned on as she told the story. And all these things served to create in a corner of my credulous heart the belief that I had been gathering sticks in the dawn of some indefinite time in the kingdom of some unknown king, and in a moment garlands had been exchanged between me and the princess, beautiful as the Goddess of Grace. She had a gold band on her hair and gold earrings in her ears. She bad a necklace and bracelets of gold, and a golden waist-chain round her waist, and a pair of golden anklets tinkled above her feet. If my grandmother were an author how many explanations she would have to offer for this little story! First of all, every one would ask why the king remained twelve years in the forest? Secondly, why should the king's daughter remain unmarried all that while? This would be regarded as absurd. Even if she could have got so far without a quarrel, still there would have been a great hue and cry about the marriage itself. First, it never happened. Secondly, how could there be a marriage between a princess of the Warrior Caste and a boy of the priestly Brahman Caste? Her readers would have imagined at once that the writer was preaching against our social customs in an underhand way. And they would write letters to the papers. So I pray with all my heart that my grandmother may be born a grandmother again, and not through some cursed fate take birth as her luckless grandson. So with a throb of joy and delight, I asked Grannie: "What then?" Grannie went on: Then the princess took her little husband away in great distress, and built a large palace with seven wings, and began to cherish her husband with great care. I jumped up and down in my bed and clutched at the bolster more tightly than ever and said: "What then?" Grannie continued: The little boy went to school and learnt many lessons from his teachers, and as he grew up his class-fellows began to ask him: "Who is that beautiful lady who lives with you in the palace with the seven wings?" The Brahman's son was eager to know who she was. He could only remember how one day he had been gathering sticks, and a great disturbance arose. But all that was so long ago, that he had no clear recollection. Four or five years passed in this way. His companions always asked him: "Who is that beautiful lady in the palace with the seven wings?" And the Brahman's son would come back from school and sadly tell the princess: "My school companions always ask me who is that beautiful lady in the palace with the seven wings, and I can give them no reply. Tell me, oh, tell me, who you are!" The princess said: "Let it pass to-day. I will tell you some other day." And every day the Brahman's son would ask; "Who are you?" and the princess would reply: "Let it pass to-day. I will tell you some other day." In this manner four or five more years passed away. At last the Brahman's son became very impatient, and said: "If you do not tell me to-day who you are, O beautiful lady, I will leave this palace with the seven wings." Then the princess said: "I will certainly tell you to-morrow." Next day the Brahman's son, as soon as he came home from school, said: "Now, tell me who you are." The princess said: "To-night I will tell you after supper, when you are in bed." The Brahman's son said: "Very well "; and he began to count the hours in expectation of the night. And the princess, on her side, spread white flowers over the golden bed, and lighted a gold lamp with fragrant oil, and adorned her hair, and dressed herself in a beautiful robe of blue, and began to count the hours in expectation of the night. That evening when her husband, the Brahman's son, had finished his meal, too excited almost to eat, and had gone to the golden bed in the bed-chamber strewn with flowers, he said to himself: "To-night I shall surely know who this beautiful lady is in the palace with the seven wings." The princess took for her the food that was left over by her husband, and slowly entered the bed-chamber. She had to answer that night the question, which was the beautiful lady who lived in the palace with the seven wings. And as she went up to the bed to tell him she found a serpent had crept out of the flowers and had bitten the Brahman's son. Her boy-husband was lying on the bed of flowers, with face pale in death. My heart suddenly ceased to throb, and I asked with choking voice: "What then?" Grannie said; "Then..." But what is the use of going on any further with the story? It would only lead on to what was more and more impossible. The boy of seven did not know that, if there were some "What then?" after death, no grandmother of a grandmother could tell us all about it. But the child's faith never admits defeat, and it would snatch at the mantle of death itself to turn him back. It would be outrageous for him to think that such a story of one teacherless evening could so suddenly come to a stop. Therefore the grandmother had to call back her story from the ever-shut chamber of the great End, but she does it so simply: it is merely by floating the dead body on a banana stem on the river, and having some incantations read by a magician. But in that rainy night and in the dim light of a lamp death loses all its horror in the mind of the boy, and seems nothing more than a deep slumber of a single night. When the story ends the tired eyelids are weighed down with sleep. Thus it is that we send the little body of the child floating on the back of sleep over the still water of time, and then in the morning read a few verses of incantation to restore him to the world of life and light. THE HOME-COMING Phatik Chakravorti was ringleader among the boys of the village. A new mischief got into his head. There was a heavy log lying on the mud-flat of the river waiting to be shaped into a mast for a boat. He decided that they should all work together to shift the log by main force from its place and roll it away. The owner of the log would be angry and surprised, and they would all enjoy the fun. Every one seconded the proposal, and it was carried unanimously. But just as the fun was about to begin, Makhan, Phatik's younger brother, sauntered up, and sat down on the log in front of them all without a word. The boys were puzzled for a moment. He was pushed, rather timidly, by one of the boys and told to get up but he remained quite unconcerned. He appeared like a young philosopher meditating on the futility of games. Phatik was furious. "Makhan," he cried, "if you don't get down this minute I'll thrash you!" Makhan only moved to a more comfortable position. Now, if Phatik was to keep his regal dignity before the public, it was clear he ought to carry out his threat. But his courage failed him at the crisis. His fertile brain, however, rapidly seized upon a new manoeuvre which would discomfit his brother and afford his followers an added amusement. He gave the word of command to roll the log and Makhan over together. Makhan heard the order, and made it a point of honour to stick on. But he overlooked the fact, like those who attempt earthly fame in other matters, that there was peril in it. The boys began to heave at the log with all their might, calling out, "One, two, three, go," At the word "go" the log went; and with it went Makhan's philosophy, glory and all. All the other boys shouted themselves hoarse with delight. But Phatik was a little frightened. He knew what was coming. And, sure enough, Makhan rose from Mother Earth blind as Fate and screaming like the Furies. He rushed at Phatik and scratched his face and beat him and kicked him, and then went crying home. The first act of the drama was over. Phatik wiped his face, and sat down on the edge of a sunken barge on the river bank, and began to chew a piece of grass. A boat came up to the landing, and a middle-aged man, with grey hair and dark moustache, stepped on shore. He saw the boy sitting there doing nothing, and asked him where the Chakravortis lived. Phatik went on chewing the grass, and said: "Over there," but it was quite impossible to tell where he pointed. The stranger asked him again. He swung his legs to and fro on the side of the barge, and said; "Go and find out," and continued to chew the grass as before. But now a servant came down from the house, and told Phatik his mother wanted him. Phatik refused to move. But the servant was the master on this occasion. He took Phatik up roughly, and carried him, kicking and struggling in impotent rage. When Phatik came into the house, his mother saw him. She called out angrily: "So you have been hitting Makhan again?" Phatik answered indignantly: "No, I haven't; who told you that?" His mother shouted: "Don't tell lies! You have." Phatik said suddenly: "I tell you, I haven't. You ask Makhan!" But Makhan thought it best to stick to his previous statement. He said: "Yes, mother. Phatik did hit me." Phatik's patience was already exhausted. He could not hear this injustice. He rushed at Makban, and hammered him with blows: "Take that" he cried, "and that, and that, for telling lies." His mother took Makhan's side in a moment, and pulled Phatik away, beating him with her hands. When Phatik pushed her aside, she shouted out: "What I you little villain! would you hit your own mother?" It was just at this critical juncture that the grey-haired stranger arrived. He asked what was the matter. Phatik looked sheepish and ashamed. But when his mother stepped back and looked at the stranger, her anger was changed to surprise. For she recognised her brother, and cried: "Why, Dada! Where have you come from?" As she said these words, she bowed to the ground and touched his feet. Her brother had gone away soon after she had married, and he had started business in Bombay. His sister had lost her husband while he was In Bombay. Bishamber had now come back to Calcutta, and had at once made enquiries about his sister. He had then hastened to see her as soon as he found out where she was. The next few days were full of rejoicing. The brother asked after the education of the two boys. He was told by his sister that Phatik was a perpetual nuisance. He was lazy, disobedient, and wild. But Makhan was as good as gold, as quiet as a lamb, and very fond of reading, Bishamber kindly offered to take Phatik off his sister's hands, and educate him with his own children in Calcutta. The widowed mother readily agreed. When his uncle asked Phatik If he would like to go to Calcutta with him, his joy knew no bounds, and he said; "Oh, yes, uncle!" In a way that made it quite clear that he meant it. It was an immense relief to the mother to get rid of Phatik. She had a prejudice against the boy, and no love was lost between the two brothers. She was in daily fear that he would either drown Makhan some day in the river, or break his head in a fight, or run him into some danger or other. At the same time she was somewhat distressed to see Phatik's extreme eagerness to get away. Phatik, as soon as all was settled, kept asking his uncle every minute when they were to start. He was on pins and needles all day long with excitement, and lay awake most of the night. He bequeathed to Makhan, in perpetuity, his fishing-rod, his big kite and his marbles. Indeed, at this time of departure his generosity towards Makhan was unbounded. When they reached Calcutta, Phatik made the acquaintance of his aunt for the first time. She was by no means pleased with this unnecessary addition to her family. She found her own three boys quite enough to manage without taking any one else. And to bring a village lad of fourteen into their midst was terribly upsetting. Bishamber should really have thought twice before committing such an indiscretion. In this world of human affairs there is no worse nuisance than a boy at the age of fourteen. He is neither ornamental, nor useful. It is impossible to shower affection on him as on a little boy; and he is always getting in the way. If he talks with a childish lisp he is called a baby, and if he answers in a grown-up way he is called impertinent. In fact any talk at all from him is resented. Then he is at the unattractive, growing age. He grows out of his clothes with indecent haste; his voice grows hoarse and breaks and quavers; his face grows suddenly angular and unsightly. It is easy to excuse the shortcomings of early childhood, but it is hard to tolerate even unavoidable lapses in a boy of fourteen. The lad himself becomes painfully self-conscious. When he talks with elderly people he is either unduly forward, or else so unduly shy that he appears ashamed of his very existence. Yet it is at this very age when in his heart of hearts a young lad most craves for recognition and love; and he becomes the devoted slave of any one who shows him consideration. But none dare openly love him, for that would be regarded as undue indulgence, and therefore bad for the boy. So, what with scolding and chiding, he becomes very much like a stray dog that has lost his master. For a boy of fourteen his own home is the only Paradise. To live in a strange house with strange people is little short of torture, while the height of bliss is to receive the kind looks of women, and never to be slighted by them. It was anguish to Phatik to be the unwelcome guest in his aunt's house, despised by this elderly woman, and slighted, on every occasion. If she ever asked him to do anything for her, he would be so overjoyed that he would overdo it; and then she would tell him not to be so stupid, but to get on with his lessons. The cramped atmosphere of neglect in his aunt's house oppressed Phatik so much that he felt that he could hardly breathe. He wanted to go out into the open country and fill his lungs and breathe freely. But there was no open country to go to. Surrounded on all sides by Calcutta houses and walls, he would dream night after night of his village home, and long to be back there. He remembered the glorious meadow where he used to fly his kite all day long; the broad river-banks where he would wander about the livelong day singing and shouting for joy; the narrow brook where he could go and dive and swim at any time he liked. He thought of his band of boy companions over whom he was despot; and, above all, the memory of that tyrant mother of his, who had such a prejudice against him, occupied him day and night. A kind of physical love like that of animals; a longing to be in the presence of the one who is loved; an inexpressible wistfulness during absence; a silent cry of the inmost heart for the mother, like the lowing of a calf in the twilight;-this love, which was almost an animal instinct, agitated the shy, nervous, lean, uncouth and ugly boy. No one could understand it, but it preyed upon his mind continually. There was no more backward boy in the whole school than Phatik. He gaped and remained silent when the teacher asked him a question, and like an overladen ass patiently suffered all the blows that came down on his back. When other boys were out at play, he stood wistfully by the window and gazed at the roofs of the distant houses. And if by chance he espied children playing on the open terrace of any roof, his heart would ache with longing. One day he summoned up all his courage, and asked his uncle: "Uncle, when can I go home?" His uncle answered; "Wait till the holidays come." But the holidays would not come till November, and there was a long time still to wait. One day Phatik lost his lesson-book. Even with the help of books he had found it very difficult indeed to prepare his lesson. Now it was impossible. Day after day the teacher would cane him unmercifully. His condition became so abjectly miserable that even his cousins were ashamed to own him. They began to jeer and insult him more than the other boys. He went to his aunt at last, and told her that he had lost his book. His aunt pursed her lips in contempt, and said: "You great clumsy, country lout. How can I afford, with all my family, to buy you new books five times a month?" That night, on his way back from school, Phatik had a bad headache with a fit of shivering. He felt he was going to have an attack of malarial fever. His one great fear was that he would be a nuisance to his aunt. The next morning Phatik was nowhere to be seen. All searches in the neighbourhood proved futile. The rain had been pouring in torrents all night, and those who went out in search of the boy got drenched through to the skin. At last Bisbamber asked help from the police. At the end of the day a police van stopped at the door before the house. It was still raining and the streets were all flooded. Two constables brought out Phatik in their arms and placed him before Bishamber. He was wet through from head to foot, muddy all over, his face and eyes flushed red with fever, and his limbs all trembling. Bishamber carried him in his arms, and took him into the inner apartments. When his wife saw him, she exclaimed; "What a heap of trouble this boy has given us. Hadn't you better send him home?" Phatik heard her words, and sobbed out loud: "Uncle, I was just going home; but they dragged me back again." The fever rose very high, and all that night the boy was delirious. Bishamber brought in a doctor. Phatik opened his eyes flushed with fever, and looked up to the ceiling, and said vacantly: "Uncle, have the holidays come yet? May I go home?" Bishamber wiped the tears from his own eyes, and took Phatik's lean and burning hands in his own, and sat by him through the night. The boy began again to mutter. At last his voice became excited: "Mother," he cried, "don't beat me like that! Mother! I am telling the truth!" The next day Phatik became conscious for a short time. He turned his eyes about the room, as if expecting some one to come. At last, with an air of disappointment, his head sank back on the pillow. He turned his face to the wall with a deep sigh. Bishamber knew his thoughts, and, bending down his head, whispered: "Phatik, I have sent for your mother." The day went by. The doctor said in a troubled voice that the boy's condition was very critical. Phatik began to cry out; "By the mark!--three fathoms. By the mark--four fathoms. By the mark-." He had heard the sailor on the river-steamer calling out the mark on the plumb-line. Now he was himself plumbing an unfathomable sea. Later in the day Phatik's mother burst into the room like a whirlwind, and began to toss from side to side and moan and cry in a loud voice. Bishamber tried to calm her agitation, but she flung herself on the bed, and cried: "Phatik, my darling, my darling." Phatik stopped his restless movements for a moment. His hands ceased beating up and down. He said: "Eh?" The mother cried again: "Phatik, my darling, my darling." Phatik very slowly turned his head and, without seeing anybody, said: "Mother, the holidays have come." MY LORD, THE BABY I Raicharan was twelve years old when he came as a servant to his master's house. He belonged to the same caste as his master, and was given his master's little son to nurse. As time went on the boy left Raicharan's arms to go to school. From school he went on to college, and after college he entered the judicial service. Always, until he married, Raicharan was his sole attendant. But, when a mistress came into the house, Raicharan found two masters instead of one. All his former influence passed to the new mistress. This was compensated for by a fresh arrival. Anukul had a son born to him, and Raicharan by his unsparing attentions soon got a complete hold over the child. He used to toss him up in his arms, call to him in absurd baby language, put his face close to the baby's and draw it away again with a grin. Presently the child was able to crawl and cross the doorway. When Raicharan went to catch him, he would scream with mischievous laughter and make for safety. Raicharan was amazed at the profound skill and exact judgment the baby showed when pursued. He would say to his mistress with a look of awe and mystery: "Your son will be a judge some day." New wonders came in their turn. When the baby began to toddle, that was to Raicharan an epoch in human history. When he called his father Ba-ba and his mother Ma-ma and Raicharan Chan-na, then Raicharan's ecstasy knew no bounds. He went out to tell the news to all the world. After a while Raicharan was asked to show his ingenuity in other ways. He had, for instance, to play the part of a horse, holding the reins between his teeth and prancing with his feet. He had also to wrestle with his little charge, and if he could not, by a wrestler's trick, fall on his back defeated at the end, a great outcry was certain. About this time Anukul was transferred to a district on the banks of the Padma. On his way through Calcutta he bought his son a little go-cart. He bought him also a yellow satin waistcoat, a gold-laced cap, and some gold bracelets and anklets. Raicharan was wont to take these out, and put them on his little charge with ceremonial pride, whenever they went for a walk. Then came the rainy season, and day after day the rain poured down in torrents. The hungry river, like an enormous serpent, swallowed down terraces, villages, cornfields, and covered with its flood the tall grasses and wild casuarinas on the sand-banks. From time to time there was a deep thud, as the river-banks crumbled. The unceasing roar of the rain current could be beard from far away. Masses of foam, carried swiftly past, proved to the eye the swiftness of the stream. One afternoon the rain cleared. It was cloudy, but cool and bright. Raicharan's little despot did not want to stay in on such a fine afternoon. His lordship climbed into the go-cart. Raicharan, between the shafts, dragged him slowly along till he reached the rice-fields on the banks of the river. There was no one in the fields, and no boat on the stream. Across the water, on the farther side, the clouds were rifted in the west. The silent ceremonial of the setting sun was revealed in all its glowing splendour. In the midst of that stillness the child, all of a sudden, pointed with his finger in front of him and cried: "Chan-nal Pitty fow." Close by on a mud-flat stood a large Kadamba tree in full flower. My lord, the baby, looked at it with greedy eyes, and Raicharan knew his meaning. Only a short time before he had made, out of these very flower balls, a small go-cart; and the child had been so entirely happy dragging it about with a string, that for the whole day Raicharan was not made to put on the reins at all. He was promoted from a horse into a groom. But Raicharan had no wish that evening to go splashing knee-deep through the mud to reach the flowers. So he quickly pointed his finger in the opposite direction, calling out: "Oh, look, baby, look! Look at the bird." And with all sorts of curious noises he pushed the go-cart rapidly away from the tree. But a child, destined to be a judge, cannot be put off so easily. And besides, there was at the time nothing to attract his eyes. And you cannot keep up for ever the pretence of an imaginary bird. The little Master's mind was made up, and Raicharan was at his wits' end. "Very well, baby," he said at last, "you sit still in the cart, and I'll go and get you the pretty flower. Only mind you don't go near the water." As he said this, he made his legs bare to the knee, and waded through the oozing mud towards the tree. The moment Raicharan had gone, his little Master went off at racing speed to the forbidden water. The baby saw the river rushing by, splashing and gurgling as it went. It seemed as though the disobedient wavelets themselves were running away from some greater Raicharan with the laughter of a thousand children. At the sight of their mischief, the heart of the human child grew excited and restless. He got down stealthily from the go-cart and toddled off towards the river. On his way he picked up a small stick, and leant over the bank of the stream pretending to fish. The mischievous fairies of the river with their mysterious voices seemed inviting him into their play-house. Raicharan had plucked a handful of flowers from the tree, and was carrying them back in the end of his cloth, with his face wreathed in smiles. But when he reached the go-cart, there was no one there. He looked on all sides and there was no one there. He looked back at the cart and there was no one there. In that first terrible moment his blood froze within him. Before his eyes the whole universe swam round like a dark mist. From the depth of his broken heart he gave one piercing cry; "Master, Master, little Master." But no voice answered "Chan-na." No child laughed mischievously back; no scream of baby delight welcomed his return. Only the river ran on, with its splashing, gurgling noise as before,--as though it knew nothing at all, and had no time to attend to such a tiny human event as the death of a child. As the evening passed by Raicharan's mistress became very anxious. She sent men out on all sides to search. They went with lanterns in their hands, and reached at last the banks of the Padma. There they found Raicharan rushing up and down the fields, like a stormy wind, shouting the cry of despair: "Master, Master, little Master!" When they got Raicharan home at last, he fell prostrate at his mistress's feet. They shook him, and questioned him, and asked him repeatedly where he had left the child; but all he could say was, that he knew nothing. Though every one held the opinion that the Padma had swallowed the child, there was a lurking doubt left in the mind. For a band of gipsies had been noticed outside the village that afternoon, and some suspicion rested on them. The mother went so far in her wild grief as to think it possible that Raicharan himself had stolen the child. She called him aside with piteous entreaty and said: "Raicharan, give me back my baby. Oh! give me back my child. Take from me any money you ask, but give me back my child!" Raicharan only beat his forehead in reply. His mistress ordered him out of the house. Artukul tried to reason his wife out of this wholly unjust suspicion: "Why on earth," he said, "should he commit such a crime as that?" The mother only replied: "The baby had gold ornaments on his body. Who knows?" It was impossible to reason with her after that. II Raicharan went back to his own village. Up to this time he had had no son, and there was no hope that any child would now be born to him. But it came about before the end of a year that his wife gave birth to a son and died. All overwhelming resentment at first grew up in Raicharan's heart at the sight of this new baby. At the back of his mind was resentful suspicion that it had come as a usurper in place of the little Master. He also thought it would be a grave offence to be happy with a son of his own after what had happened to his master's little child. Indeed, if it had not been for a widowed sister, who mothered the new baby, it would not have lived long. But a change gradually came over Raicharan's mind. A wonderful thing happened. This new baby in turn began to crawl about, and cross the doorway with mischief in its face. It also showed an amusing cleverness in making its escape to safety. Its voice, its sounds of laughter and tears, its gestures, were those of the little Master. On some days, when Raicharan listened to its crying, his heart suddenly began thumping wildly against his ribs, and it seemed to him that his former little Master was crying somewhere in the unknown land of death because he had lost his Chan-na. Phailna (for that was the name Raicharan's sister gave to the new baby) soon began to talk. It learnt to say Ba-ba and Ma-ma with a baby accent. When Raicharan heard those familiar sounds the mystery suddenly became clear. The little Master could not cast off the spell of his Chan-na, and therefore he had been reborn in his own house. The arguments in favour of this were, to Raicharan, altogether beyond dispute: (i.) The new baby was born soon after his little master's death. (ii.) His wife could never have accumulated such merit as to give birth to a son in middle age. (iii.) The new baby walked with a toddle and called out Ba-ba and Ma-ma. There was no sign lacking which marked out the future judge. Then suddenly Raicharan remembered that terrible accusation of the mother. "Ah," he said to himself with amazement, "the mother's heart was right. She knew I had stolen her child." When once he had come to this conclusion, he was filled with remorse for his past neglect. He now gave himself over, body and soul, to the new baby, and became its devoted attendant. He began to bring it up, as if it were the son of a rich man. He bought a go-cart, a yellow satin waistcoat, and a gold-embroidered cap. He melted down the ornaments of his dead wife, and made gold bangles and anklets. He refused to let the little child play with any one of the neighbourhood, and became himself its sole companion day and night. As the baby grew up to boyhood, he was so petted and spoilt and clad in such finery that the village children would call him "Your Lordship," and jeer at him; and older people regarded Raicharan as unaccountably crazy about the child. At last the time came for the boy to go to school. Raicharan sold his small piece of land, and went to Calcutta. There he got employment with great difficulty as a servant, and sent Phailna to school. He spared no pains to give him the best education, the best clothes, the best food. Meanwhile he lived himself on a mere handful of rice, and would say in secret: "Ah! my little Master, my dear little Master, you loved me so much that you came back to my house. You shall never suffer from any neglect of mine." Twelve years passed away in this manner. The boy was able to read and write well. He was bright and healthy and good-looking. He paid a great deal of attention to his personal appearance, and was specially careful in parting his hair. He was inclined to extravagance and finery, and spent money freely. He could never quite look on Raicharan as a father, because, though fatherly in affection, he had the manner of a servant. A further fault was this, that Raicharan kept secret from every one that himself was the father of the child. The students of the hostel, where Phailna was a boarder, were greatly amused by Raicharan's country manners, and I have to confess that behind his father's back Phailna joined in their fun. But, in the bottom of their hearts, all the students loved the innocent and tender-hearted old man, and Phailna was very fond of him also. But, as I have said before, he loved him with a kind of condescension. Raicharan grew older and older, and his employer was continually finding fault with him for his incompetent work. He had been starving himself for the boy's sake. So he had grown physically weak, and no longer up to his work. He would forget things, and his mind became dull and stupid. But his employer expected a full servant's work out of him, and would not brook excuses. The money that Raicharan had brought with him from the sale of his land was exhausted. The boy was continually grumbling about his clothes, and asking for more money. Raicharan made up his mind. He gave up the situation where he was working as a servant, and left some money with Phailna and said: "I have some business to do at home in my village, and shall be back soon." He went off at once to Baraset where Anukul was magistrate. Anukul's wife was still broken down with grief. She had had no other child. One day Anukul was resting after a long and weary day in court. His wife was buying, at an exorbitant price, a herb from a mendicant quack, which was said to ensure the birth of a child. A voice of greeting was heard in the courtyard. Anukul went out to see who was there. It was Raicharan. Anukul's heart was softened when he saw his old servant. He asked him many questions, and offered to take him back into service. Raicharan smiled faintly, and said in reply; "I want to make obeisance to my mistress." Anukul went with Raicharan into the house, where the mistress did not receive him as warmly as his old master. Raicharan took no notice of this, but folded his hands, and said: "It was not the Padma that stole your baby. It was I." Anukul exclaimed: "Great God! Eh! What! Where is he?" Raicharan replied: "He is with me, I will bring him the day after to-morrow." It was Sunday. There was no magistrate's court sitting. Both husband and wife were looking expectantly along the road, waiting from early morning for Raicharan's appearance. At ten o'clock he came, leading Phailna by the hand. Anukul's wife, without a question, took the boy into her lap, and was wild with excitement, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping, touching him, kissing his hair and his forehead, and gazing into his face with hungry, eager eyes. The boy was very good-looking and dressed like a gentleman's son. The heart of Anukul brimmed over with a sudden rush of affection. Nevertheless the magistrate in him asked: "Have you any proofs?" Raicharan said: "How could there be any proof of such a deed? God alone knows that I stole your boy, and no one else in the world." When Anukul saw how eagerly his wife was clinging to the boy, he realised the futility of asking for proofs. It would be wiser to believe. And then--where could an old man like Raicharan get such a boy from? And why should his faithful servant deceive him for nothing? "But," he added severely, "Raicharan, you must not stay here." "Where shall I go, Master?" said Raicharan, in a choking voice, folding his hands; "I am old. Who will take in an old man as a servant?" The mistress said: "Let him stay. My child will be pleased. I forgive him." But Anukul's magisterial conscience would not allow him. "No," he said, "he cannot be forgiven for what he has done." Raicharan bowed to the ground, and clasped Anukul's feet. "Master," he cried, "let me stay. It was not I who did it. It was God." Anukul's conscience was worse stricken than ever, when Raicharan tried to put the blame on God's shoulders. "No," he said, "I could not allow it. I cannot trust you any more. You have done an act of treachery." Raicharan rose to his feet and said: "It was not I who did it." "Who was it then?" asked Anukul. Raicharan replied: "It was my fate." But no educated man could take this for an excuse. Anukul remained obdurate. When Phailna saw that he was the wealthy magistrate's son, and not Raicharan's, he was angry at first, thinking that he had been cheated all this time of his birthright. But seeing Raicharan in distress, he generously said to his father: "Father, forgive him. Even if you don't let him live with us, let him have a small monthly pension." After hearing this, Raicharan did not utter another word. He looked for the last time on the face of his son; he made obeisance to his old master and mistress. Then he went out, and was mingled with the numberless people of the world. At the end of the month Anukul sent him some money to his village. But the money came back. There was no one there of the name of Raicharan. THE KINGDOM OF CARDS I Once upon a time there was a lonely island in a distant sea where lived the Kings and Queens, the Aces and the Knaves, in the Kingdom of Cards. The Tens and Nines, with the Twos and Threes, and all the other members, had long ago settled there also. But these were not twice-born people, like the famous Court Cards. The Ace, the King, and the Knave were the three highest castes. The fourth Caste was made up of a mixture of the lower Cards. The Twos and Threes were lowest of all. These inferior Cards were never allowed to sit in the same row with the great Court Cards. Wonderful indeed were the regulations and rules of that island kingdom. The particular rank of each individual had been settled from time immemorial. Every one had his own appointed work, and never did anything else. An unseen hand appeared to be directing them wherever they went,--according to the Rules. No one in the Kingdom of Cards had any occasion to think: no one had any need to come to any decision: no one was ever required to debate any new subject. The citizens all moved along in a listless groove without speech. When they fell, they made no noise. They lay down on their backs, and gazed upward at the sky with each prim feature firmly fixed for ever. There was a remarkable stillness in the Kingdom of Cards. Satisfaction and contentment were complete in all their rounded wholeness. There was never any uproar or violence. There was never any excitement or enthusiasm. The great ocean, crooning its lullaby with one unceasing melody, lapped the island to sleep with a thousand soft touches of its wave's white hands. The vast sky, like the outspread azure wings of the brooding mother-bird, nestled the island round with its downy plume. For on the distant horizon a deep blue line betokened another shore. But no sound of quarrel or strife could reach the Island of Cards, to break its calm repose. II In that far-off foreign land across the sea, there lived a young Prince whose mother was a sorrowing queen. This queen had fallen from favour, and was living with her only son on the seashore. The Prince passed his childhood alone and forlorn, sitting by his forlorn mother, weaving the net of his big desires. He longed to go in search of the Flying Horse, the Jewel in the Cobra's hood, the Rose of Heaven, the Magic Roads, or to find where the Princess Beauty was sleeping in the Ogre's castle over the thirteen rivers and across the seven seas. From the Son of the Merchant at school the young Prince learnt the stories of foreign kingdoms. From the Son of the Kotwal he learnt the adventures of the Two Genii of the Lamp. And when the rain came beating down, and the clouds covered the sky, he would sit on the threshold facing the sea, and say to his sorrowing mother: "Tell me, mother, a story of some very far-off land." And his mother would tell him an endless tale she had heard in her childhood of a wonderful country beyond the sea where dwelt the Princess Beauty. And the heart of the young Prince would become sick with longing, as he sat on the threshold, looking out on the ocean, listening to his mother's wonderful story, while the rain outside came beating down and the grey clouds covered the sky. One day the Son of the Merchant came to the Prince, and said boldly: "Comrade, my studies are over. I am now setting out on my travels to seek my fortunes on the sea. I have come to bid you good-bye." The Prince said; "I will go with you." And the Son of Kotwal said also: "Comrades, trusty and true, you will not leave me behind. I also will be your companion." Then the young Prince said to his sorrowing mother; "Mother, I am now setting out on my travels to seek my fortune. When I come back once more, I shall surely have found some way to remove all your sorrow." So the Three Companions set out on their travels together. In the harbour were anchored the twelve ships of the merchant, and the Three Companions got on board. The south wind was blowing, and the twelve ships sailed away, as fast as the desires which rose in the Prince's breast. At the Conch Shell Island they filled one ship with conchs. At the Sandal Wood Island they filled a second ship with sandal-wood, and at the Coral Island they filled a third ship with coral. Four years passed away, and they filled four more ships, one with ivory, one with musk, one with cloves, and one with nutmegs. But when these ships were all loaded a terrible tempest arose. The ships were all of them sunk, with their cloves and nutmeg, and musk and ivory, and coral and sandal-wood and conchs. But the ship with the Three Companions struck on an island reef, buried them safe ashore, and itself broke in pieces. This was the famous Island of Cards, where lived the Ace and King and Queen and Knave, with the Nines and Tens and all the other Members--according to the Rules. III Up till now there had been nothing to disturb that island stillness. No new thing had ever happened. No discussion had ever been held. And then, of a sudden, the Three Companions appeared, thrown up by the sea,--and the Great Debate began. There were three main points of dispute. First, to what caste should these unclassed strangers belong? Should they rank with the Court Cards? Or were they merely lower-caste people, to be ranked with the Nines and Tens? No precedent could be quoted to decide this weighty question. Secondly, what was their clan? Had they the fairer hue and bright complexion of the Hearts, or was theirs the darker complexion of the Clubs? Over this question there were interminable disputes. The whole marriage system of the island, with its intricate regulations, would depend on its nice adjustment. Thirdly, what food should they take? With whom should they live and sleep? And should their heads be placed south-west, north-west, or only north-east? In all the Kingdom of Cards a series of problems so vital and critical had never been debated before. But the Three Companions grew desperately hungry. They had to get food in some way or other. So while this debate went on, with its interminable silence and pauses, and while the Aces called their own meeting, and formed themselves into a Committee, to find some obsolete dealing with the question, the Three Companions themselves were eating all they could find, and drinking out of every vessel, and breaking all regulations. Even the Twos and Threes were shocked at this outrageous behaviour. The Threes said; "Brother Twos, these people are openly shameless!" And the Twos said: "Brother Threes, they are evidently of lower caste than ourselves!" After their meal was over, the Three Companions went for a stroll in the city. When they saw the ponderous people moving in their dismal processions with prim and solemn faces, then the Prince turned to the Son of the Merchant and the Son of the Kotwal, and threw back his head, and gave one stupendous laugh. Down Royal Street and across Ace Square and along the Knave Embankment ran the quiver of this strange, unheard-of laughter, the laughter that, amazed at itself, expired in the vast vacuum of silence. The Son of the Kotwal and the Son of the Merchant were chilled through to the bone by the ghost-like stillness around them. They turned to the Prince, and said: "Comrade, let us away. Let us not stop for a moment in this awful land of ghosts." But the Prince said: "Comrades, these people resemble men, so I am going to find out, by shaking them upside down and outside in, whether they have a single drop of warm living blood left in their veins." IV The days passed one by one, and the placid existence of the Island went on almost without a ripple. The Three Companions obeyed no rules nor regulations. They never did anything correctly either in sitting or standing or turning themselves round or lying on their back. On the contrary, wherever they saw these things going on precisely and exactly according to the Rules, they gave way to inordinate laughter. They remained unimpressed altogether by the eternal gravity of those eternal regulations. One day the great Court Cards came to the Son of the Kotwal and the Son of the Merchant and the Prince. "Why," they asked slowly, "are you not moving according to the Rules?" The Three Companions answered: "Because that is our Ichcha (wish)." The great Court Cards with hollow, cavernous voices, as if slowly awakening from an age-long dream, said together: "Ich-cha! And pray who is Ich-cha?" They could not understand who Ichcha was then, but the whole island was to understand it by-and-by. The first glimmer of light passed the threshold of their minds when they found out, through watching the actions of the Prince, that they might move in a straight line in an opposite direction from the one in which they had always gone before. Then they made another startling discovery, that there was another side to the Cards which they had never yet noticed with attention. This was the beginning of the change. Now that the change had begun, the Three Companions were able to initiate them more and more deeply into the mysteries of Ichcha. The Cards gradually became aware that life was not bound by regulations. They began to feel a secret satisfaction in the kingly power of choosing for themselves. But with this first impact of Ichcha the whole pack of cards began to totter slowly, and then tumble down to the ground. The scene was like that of some huge python awaking from a long sleep, as it slowly unfolds its numberless coils with a quiver that runs through its whole frame. V Hitherto the Queens of Spades and Clubs and Diamonds and Hearts had remained behind curtains with eyes that gazed vacantly into space, or else remained fixed upon the ground. And now, all of a sudden, on an afternoon in spring the Queen of Hearts from the balcony raised her dark eyebrows for a moment, and cast a single glance upon the Prince from the corner of her eye. "Great God," cried the Prince, "I thought they were all painted images. But I am wrong. They are women after all." Then the young Prince called to his side his two Companions, and said in a meditative voice; "My comrades! There is a charm about these ladies that I never noticed before. When I saw that glance of the Queen's dark, luminous eyes, brightening with new emotion, it seemed to me like the first faint streak of dawn in a newly created world." The two Companions smiled a knowing smile, and said: "Is that really so, Prince?" And the poor Queen of Hearts from that day went from bad to worse. She began to forget all rules in a truly scandalous manner. If, for instance, her place in the row was beside the Knave, she suddenly found herself quite accidentally standing beside the Prince instead. At this, the Knave, with motionless face and solemn voice, would say: "Queen, you have made a mistake." And the poor Queen of Hearts' red cheeks would get redder than ever. But the Prince would come gallantly to her rescue and say: "No! There is no mistake. From to-day I am going to be Knave!" Now it came to pass that, while every one was trying to correct the improprieties of the guilty Queen of Hearts, they began to make mistakes themselves. The Aces found themselves elbowed out by the Kings. The Kings got muddled up with the Knaves. The Nines and Tens assumed airs as though they belonged to the Great Court Cards. The Twos and Threes were found secretly taking the places specially resented for the Fours and Fives. Confusion had never been so confounded before. Many spring seasons had come and gone in that Island of Cards. The Kokil, the bird of Spring, had sung its song year after year. But it had never stirred the blood as it stirred it now. In days gone by the sea had sung its tireless melody. But, then, it had proclaimed only the inflexible monotony of the Rule. And suddenly its waves were telling, through all their flashing light and luminous shade and myriad voices, the deepest yearnings of the heart of love! VI Where are vanished now their prim, round, regular, complacent features? Here is a face full of love-sick longing. Here is a heart heating wild with regrets. Here is a mind racked sore with doubts. Music and sighing, and smiles and tears, are filling the air. Life is throbbing; hearts are breaking; passions are kindling. Every one is now thinking of his own appearance, and comparing himself with others. The Ace of Clubs is musing to himself, that the King of Spades may be just passably good-looking. "But," says he, "when I walk down the street you have only to see how people's eyes turn towards me." The King of Spades is saying; "Why on earth is that Ace of Clubs always straining his neck and strutting about like a peacock? He imagines all the Queens are dying of love for him, while the real fact is--" Here he pauses, and examines his face in the glass. But the Queens were the worst of all. They began to spend all their time in dressing themselves up to the Nines. And the Nines would become their hopeless and abject slaves. But their cutting remarks about one another were more shocking still. So the young men would sit listless on the leaves under the trees, lolling with outstretched limbs in the forest shade. And the young maidens, dressed in pale-blue robes, would come walking accidentally to the same shade of the same forest by the same trees, and turn their eyes as though they saw no one there, and look as though they came out to see nothing at all. And then one young man more forward than the rest in a fit of madness would dare to go near to a maiden in blue. But, as he drew near, speech would forsake him. He would stand there tongue-tied and foolish, and the favourable moment would pass. The Kokil birds were singing in the boughs overhead. The mischievous South wind was blowing; it disarrayed the hair, it whispered in the ear, and stirred the music in the blood. The leaves of the trees were murmuring with rustling delight. And the ceaseless sound of the ocean made all the mute longings of the heart of man and maid surge backwards and forwards on the full springtide of love. The Three Companions had brought into the dried-up channels of the Kingdom of Cards the full flood-tide of a new life. VII And, though the tide was full, there-was a pause as though the rising waters would not break into foam but remain suspended for ever. There were no outspoken words, only a cautious going forward one step and receding two. All seemed busy heaping up their unfulfilled desires like castles in the air, or fortresses of sand. They were pale and speechless, their eyes were burning, their lips trembling with unspoken secrets. The Prince saw what was wrong. He summoned every one on the Island and said: "Bring hither the flutes and the cymbals, the pipes and drums. Let all be played together, and raise loud shouts of rejoicing. For the Queen of Hearts this very night is going to choose her Mate!" So the Tens and Nines began to blow on their flutes and pipes; the Eights and Sevens played on their sackbuts and viols; and even the Twos and Threes began to beat madly on their drums. When this tumultous gust of music came, it swept away at one blast all those sighings and mopings. And then what a torrent of laughter and words poured forth! There were daring proposals and locking refusals, and gossip and chatter, and jests and merriment. It was like the swaying and shaking, and rustling and soughing, in a summer gale, of a million leaves and branches in the depth of the primeval forest. But the Queen of Hearts, in a rose-red robe, sat silent in the shadow of her secret bower, and listened to the great uproarious sound of music and mirth, that came floating towards her. She shut her eyes, and dreamt her dream of lore. And when she opened them she found the Prince seated on the ground before her gazing up at her face. And she covered her eyes with both hands, and shrank back quivering with an inward tumult of joy. And the Prince passed the whole day alone, walking by the side of the surging sea. He carried in his mind that startled look, that shrinking gesture of the Queen, and his heart beat high with hope. That night the serried, gaily-dressed ranks of young men and maidens waited with smiling faces at the Palace Gates. The Palace Hall was lighted with fairy lamps and festooned with the flowers of spring. Slowly the Queen of Hearts entered, and the whole assembly rose to greet her. With a jasmine garland in her hand, she stood before the Prince with downcast eyes. In her lowly bashfulness she could hardly raise the garland to the neck of the Mate she had chosen. But the Prince bowed his head, and the garland slipped to its place. The assembly of youths and maidens had waited her choice with eager, expectant hush. And when the choice was made, the whole vast concourse rocked and swayed with a tumult of wild delight. And the sound of their shouts was heard in every part of the island, and by ships far out at sea. Never had such a shout been raised in the Kingdom of Cards before. And they carried the Prince and his Bride, and seated them on the throne, and crowned them then and there in the Ancient Island of Cards. And the sorrowing Mother Queen, on the 'far-off island shore on the other side of the sea, came sailing to her son's new kingdom in a ship adorned with gold. And the citizens are no longer regulated according to the Rules, but are good or bad, or both, according to their Ichcha. THE DEVOTEE At a time, when my unpopularity with a part of my readers had reached the nadir of its glory, and my name had become the central orb of the journals, to be attended through space with a perpetual rotation of revilement, I felt the necessity to retire to some quiet place and endeavour to forget my own existence. I have a house in the country some miles away from Calcutta, where I can remain unknown and unmolested. The villagers there have not, as yet, come to any conclusion about me. They know I am no mere holiday-maker or pleasure-seeker; for I never outrage the silence of the village nights with the riotous noises of the city. Nor do they regard me as ascetic, because the little acquaintance they have of me carries the savour of comfort about it. I am not, to them, a traveller; for, though I am a vagabond by nature, my wandering through the village fields is aimless. They are hardly even quite certain whether I am married or single; for they have never seen me with my children. So, not being able to classify me in any animal or vegetable kingdom that they know, they have long since given me up and left me stolidly alone. But quite lately I have come to know that there is one person in the village who is deeply interested in me. Our acquaintance began on a sultry afternoon in July. There had been rain all the morning, and the air was still wet and heavy with mist, like eyelids when weeping is over. I sat lazily watching a dappled cow grazing on the high bank of the river. The afternoon sun was playing on her glossy hide. The simple beauty of this dress of light made me wonder idly at man's deliberate waste of money in setting up tailors' shops to deprive his own skin of its natural clothing. While I was thus watching and lazily musing, a woman of middle age came and prostrated herself before me, touching the ground with her forehead. She carried in her robe some bunches of flowers, one of which she offered to me with folded hands. She said to me, as she offered it: "This is an offering to my God." She went away. I was so taken aback as she uttered these words, that I could hardly catch a glimpse of her before she was gone. The whole incident was entirely simple, but it left a deep impression on my mind; and as I turned back once more to look at the cattle in the field, the zest of life in the cow, who was munching the lush grass with deep breaths, while she whisked off the flies, appeared to me fraught with mystery. My readers may laugh at my foolishness, but my heart was full of adoration. I offered my worship to the pure joy of living, which is God's own life. Then, plucking a tender shoot from the mango tree, I fed the cow with it from my own hand, and as I did this I had the satisfaction of having pleased my God. The next year when I returned to the village it was February. The cold season still lingered on. The morning sun came into my room, and I was grateful for its warmth. I was writing, when the servant came to tell me that a devotee, of the Vishnu cult, wanted to see me. I told him, in an absent way, to bring her upstairs, and went on with my writing. The Devotee came in, and bowed to me, touching my feet. I found that she was the same woman whom I had met, for a brief moment, a year ago. I was able now to examine her more closely. She was past that age when one asks the question whether a woman is beautiful or not. Her stature was above the ordinary height, and she was strongly built; but her body was slightly bent owing to her constant attitude of veneration. Her manner had nothing shrinking about it. The most remarkable of her features were her two eyes. They seemed to have a penetrating power which could make distance near. With those two large eyes of hers, she seemed to push me as she entered. "What is this?" she asked. "Why have you brought me here before your throne, my God? I used to see you among the trees; and that was much better. That was the true place to meet you." She must have seen me walking in the garden without my seeing her. For the last few clays, however, I had suffered from a cold, and had been prevented from going out. I had, perforce, to stay indoors and pay my homage to the evening sky from my terrace. After a silent pause the Devotee said to me: "O my God, give me some words of good." I was quite unprepared for this abrupt request, and answered her on the spur of the moment: "Good words I neither give nor receive. I simply open my eyes and keep silence, and then I can at once both hear and see, even when no sound is uttered. Now, while I am looking at you, it is as good as listening to your voice." The Devotee became quite excited as I spoke, and exclaimed: "God speaks to me, not only with His mouth, but with His whole body." I said to her: "When I am silent I can listen with my whole body. I have come away from Calcutta here to listen to that sound." The Devotee said: "Yes, I know that, and therefore I have come here to sit by you." Before taking her leave, she again bowed to me, and touched my feet. I could see that she was distressed, because my feet were covered. She wished them to be bare. Early next morning I came out, and sat on my terrace on the roof. Beyond the line of trees southward I could see the open country chill and desolate. I could watch the sun rising over the sugar-cane in the East, beyond the clump of trees at the side of the village. Out of the deep shadow of those dark trees the village road suddenly appeared. It stretched forward, winding its way to some distant villages on the horizon, till it was lost in the grey of the mist. That morning it was difficult to say whether the sun had risen or not. A white fog was still clinging to the tops of the trees. I saw the Devotee walking through the blurred dawn, like a mist-wraith of the morning twilight. She was singing her chant to God, and sounding her cymbals. The thick haze lifted at last; and the sun, like the kindly grandsire of the village, took his seat amid all the work that was going on in home and field. When I had just settled down at my writing-table, to appease the hungry appetite of my editor in Calcutta, there came a sound of footsteps on the stair, and the Devotee, humming a tune to herself, entered, and bowed before me. I lifted my head from my papers. She said to me: "My God, yesterday I took as sacred food what was left over from your meal." I was startled, and asked her how she could do that. "Oh," she said, "I waited at your door in the evening, while you were at dinner, and took some food from your plate when it was carried out." This was a surprise to me, for every one in the village knew that I had been to Europe, and had eaten with Europeans. I was a vegetarian, no doubt, but the sanctity of my cook would not bear investigation, and the orthodox regarded my food as polluted. The Devotee, noticing my sign of surprise, said: "My God, why should I come to you at all, if I could not take your food?" I asked her what her own caste people would say. She told me she had already spread the news far and wide all over the village. The caste people had shaken their heads, but agreed that she must go her own way. I found out that the Devotee came from a good family in the country, and that her mother was well to-do, and desired to keep her daughter. But she preferred to be a mendicant. I asked her how she made her living. She told me that her followers had given her a piece of land, and that she begged her food from door to door. She said to me: "The food which I get by begging is divine." After I had thought over what she said, I understood her meaning. When we get our food precariously as alms, we remember God the giver. But when we receive our food regularly at home, as a matter of course, we are apt to regard it as ours by right. I had a great desire to ask her about her husband. But as she never mentioned him even indirectly, I did not question her. I found out very soon that the Devotee had no respect at all for that part of the village where the people of the higher castes lived. "They never give," she said, "a single farthing to God's service; and yet they have the largest share of God's glebe. But the poor worship and starve." I asked her why she did not go and live among these godless people, and help them towards a better life. "That," I said with some unction, "would be the highest form of divine worship." I had heard sermons of this kind from time to time, and I am rather fond of copying them myself for the public benefit, when the chance comes. But the Devotee was not at all impressed. She raised her big round eyes, and looked straight into mine, and said: "You mean to say that because God is with the sinners, therefore when you do them any service you do it to God? Is that so?" "Yes," I replied, "that is my meaning." "Of course," she answered almost impatiently, "of course, God is with them: otherwise, how could they go on living at all? But what is that to me? My God is not there. My God cannot be worshipped among them; because I do not find Him there. I seek Him where I can find Him." As she spoke, she made obeisance to me. What she meant to say was really this. A mere doctrine of God's omnipresence does not help us. That God is all-pervading,--this truth may be a mere intangible abstraction, and therefore unreal to ourselves. Where I can see Him, there is His reality in my soul. I need not explain that all the while she showered her devotion on me she did it to me not as an individual. I was simply a vehicle of her divine worship. It was not for me either to receive it or to refuse it: for it was not mine, but God's. When the Devotee came again, she found me once more engaged with my books and papers. "What have you been doing," she said, with evident vexation, "that my God should make you undertake such drudgery? Whenever I come, I find you reading and writing." "God keeps his useless people busy," I answered; "otherwise they would be bound to get into mischief. They have to do all the least necessary things in life. It keeps them out of trouble." The Devotee told me that she could not bear the encumbrances, with which, day by day, I was surrounded. If she wanted to see me, she was not allowed by the servants to come straight upstairs. If she wanted to touch my feet in worship, there were my socks always in the way. And when she wanted to have a simple talk with me, she found my mind lost in a wilderness of letters. This time, before she left me, she folded her hands, and said: "My God! I felt your feet in my breast this morning. Oh, how cool! And they were bare, not covered. I held them upon my head for a long time in worship. That filled my very being. Then, after that, pray what was the use of my coming to you yourself? Why did I come? My Lord, tell me truly,--wasn't it a mere infatuation?" There were some flowers in my vase on the table. While she was there, the gardener brought some new flowers to put in their place. The Devotee saw him changing them. "Is that all?" she exclaimed. "Have you done with the flowers? Then give them to me." She held the flowers tenderly in the cup of her hands, and began to gaze at them with bent head. After a few moments' silence she raised her head again, and said to me: "You never look at these flowers; therefore they become stale to you. If you would only look into them, then your reading and writing would go to the winds." She tied the flowers together in the end of her robe, and placed them, in an attitude of worship, on the top of her head, saying reverently: "Let me carry my God with me." While she did this, I felt that flowers in our rooms do not receive their due meed of loving care at our hands. When we stick them in vases, they are more like a row of naughty schoolboys standing on a form to be punished. The Devotee came again the same evening, and sat by my feet on the terrace of the roof. "I gave away those flowers," she said, "as I went from house to house this morning, singing God's name. Beni, the head man of our village, laughed at me for my devotion, and said: 'Why do you waste all this devotion on Him? Don't you know He is reviled up and down the countryside?' Is that true, my God? Is it true that they are hard upon you?" For a moment I shrank into myself. It was a shock to find that the stains of printers' ink could reach so far. The Devotee went on: "Beni imagined that he could blow out the flame of my devotion at one breath! But this is no mere tiny flame: it is a burning fire. Why do they abuse you, my God?" I said: "Because I deserved it. I suppose in my greed I was loitering about to steal people's hearts in secret." The Devotee said: "Now you see for yourself how little their hearts are worth. They are full of poison, and this will cure you of your greed." "When a man," I answered, "has greed in his heart, he is always on the verge of being beaten. The greed itself supplies his enemies with poison." "Our merciful God," she replied, "beats us with His own hand, and drives away all the poison. He who endures God's beating to the end is saved." II. That evening the Devotee told me the story of her life. The stars of evening rose and set behind the trees, as she went on to the end of her tale. "My husband is very simple. Some people think that he is a simpleton; but I know that those who understand simply, understand truly. In business and household management he was able to hold his own. Because his needs were small, and his wants few, he could manage carefully on what we had. He would never meddle in other matters, nor try to understand them. "Both my husband's parents died before we had been married long, and we were left alone. But my husband always needed some one to be over him. I am ashamed to confess that he had a sort of reverence for me, and looked upon me as his superior. But I am sure that he could understand things better than I, though I had greater powers of talking. "Of all the people in the world he held his Guru Thakur (spiritual master) in the highest veneration. Indeed it was not veneration merely but love; and such love as his is rare. "Guru Thakur was younger than my husband. Oh! how beautiful he was! "My husband had played games with him when he was a boy; and from that time forward he had dedicated his heart and soul to this friend of his early days. Thakur knew how simple my husband was, and used to tease him mercilessly. "He and his comrades would play jokes upon him for their own amusement; but he would bear them all with longsuffering. "When I married into this family, Guru Thakur was studying at Benares. My husband used to pay all his expenses. I was eighteen years old when he returned home to our village. "At the age of fifteen I had my child. I was so young I did not know how to take care of him. I was fond of gossip, and liked to be with my village friends for hours together. I used to get quite cross with my boy when I was compelled to stay at home and nurse him. Alas! my child-God came into my life, but His playthings were not ready for Him. He came to the mother's heart, but the mother's heart lagged behind. He left me in anger; and ever since I have been searching for Him up and down the world. "The boy was the joy of his father's life. My careless neglect used to pain my husband. But his was a mute soul. He has never been able to give expression to his pain. "The wonderful thing was this, that in spite of my neglect the child used to love me more than any one else. He seemed to have the dread that I would one day go away and leave him. So even when I was with him, he would watch me with a restless look in his eyes. He had me very little to himself, and therefore his desire to be with me was always painfully eager. When I went each day to the river, he used to fret and stretch out his little arms to be taken with me. But the bathing ghal was my place for meeting my friends, and I did not care to burden myself with the child. "It was an early morning in August. Fold after fold of grey clouds had wrapped the mid-day round with a wet clinging robe. I asked the maid to take care of the boy, while I went down to the river. The child cried after me as I went away. "There was no one there at the bathing ghat when I arrived. As a swimmer, I was the best among all the village women. The river was quite full with the rains. I swam out into the middle of the stream some distance from the shore. "Then I heard a cry from the bank, 'Mother!' I turned my head and saw my boy coming down the steps, calling me as he came. I shouted to him to stop, but he went on, laughing and calling. My feet and hands became cramped with fear. I shut my eyes, afraid to see. When I opened them, there, at the slippery stairs, my boy's ripple of laughter had disappeared for ever. "I got back to the shore. I raised him from the water. I took him in my arms, my boy, my darling, who had begged so often in vain for me to take him. I took him now, but he no more looked in my eyes and called 'Mother.' "My child-God had come. I had ever neglected Him. I had ever made Him cry. And now all that neglect began to beat against my own heart, blow upon blow, blow upon blow. When my boy was with me, I had left him alone. I had refused to take him with me. And now, when he is dead, his memory clings to me and never leaves me. "God alone knows all that my husband suffered. If he had only punished me for my sin, it would have been better for us both. But he knew only how to endure in silence, not how to speak. "When I was almost mad with grief, Guru Thakur came back. In earlier days, the relation between him and my husband had been that of boyish friendship. Now, my husband's reverence for his sanctity and learning was unbounded. He could hardly speak in his presence, his awe of him was so great. "My husband asked his Guru to try to give me some consolation. Guru Thakur began to read and explain to me the scriptures. But I do not think they had much effect on my mind. All their value for me lay in the voice that uttered them. God makes the draught of divine life deepest in the heart for man to drink, through the human voice. He has no better vessel in His hand than that; and He Himself drinks His divine draught out of the same vessel. "My husband's love and veneration for his Guru filled our house, as incense fills a temple shrine. I showed that veneration, and had peace. I saw my God in the form of that Guru. He used to come to take his meal at our house every morning. The first thought that would come to my mind on waking from sleep was that of his food as a sacred gift from God. When I prepared the things for his meal, my fingers would sing for joy. "When my husband saw my devotion to his Guru, his respect for me greatly increased. He noticed his Guru's eager desire to explain the scriptures to me. He used to think that he could never expect to earn any regard from his Guru himself, on account of his stupidity; but his wife had made up for it. "Thus another five years went by happily, and my whole life would have passed like that; but beneath the surface some stealing was going on somewhere in secret. I could not detect it; but it was detected by the God of my heart. Then came a day when, in a moment our whole life was turned upside down. "It was a morning in midsummer. I was returning home from bathing, my clothes all wet, down a shady lane. At the bend of the road, under the mango tree, I met my Guru Thakur. He had his towel on his shoulder and was repeating some Sanskrit verses as he was going to take his bath. With my wet clothes clinging all about me I was ashamed to meet him. I tried to pass by quickly, and avoid being seen. He called me by my name. "I stopped, lowering my eyes, shrinking into myself. He fixed his gaze upon me, and said: 'How beautiful is your body!' "All the universe of birds seemed to break into song in the branches overhead. All the bushes in the lane seemed ablaze with flowers. It was as though the earth and sky and everything had become a riot of intoxicating joy. "I cannot tell how I got home. I only remember that I rushed into the room where we worship God. But the room seemed empty. Only before my eyes those same gold spangles of light were dancing which had quivered in front of me in that shady lane on my way back from the river. "Guru Thakur came to take his food that day, and asked my husband where I had gone. He searched for me, but could not find me anywhere. "Ah! I have not the same earth now any longer. The same sunlight is not mine. I called on my God in my dismay, and He kept His face turned away from me. "The day passed, I know not how. That night I had to meet my husband. But the night is dark and silent. It is the time when my husband's mind comes out shining, like stars at twilight. I had heard him speak things in the dark, and I had been surprised to find how deeply he understood. "Sometimes I am late in the evening in going to rest on account of household work. My husband waits for me, seated on the floor, without going to bed. Our talk at such times had often begun with something about our Guru. "That night, when it was past midnight, I came to my room, and found my husband sleeping on the floor. Without disturbing him I lay down on the ground at his feet, my head towards him. Once he stretched his feet, while sleeping, and struck me on the breast. That was his last bequest. "Next morning, when my husband woke up from his sleep, I was already sitting by him. Outside the window, over the thick foliage of the jack-fruit tree, appeared the first pale red of the dawn at the fringe of the night. It was so early that the crows had not yet begun to call. "I bowed, and touched my husband's feet with my forehead. He sat up, starting as if waking from a dream, and looked at my face in amazement. I said: "'I have made up my mind. I must leave the world. I cannot belong to you any longer. I must leave your home.' "Perhaps my husband thought that he was still dreaming. He said not a word. "'Ah! do hear me!' I pleaded with infinite pain. 'Do hear me and understand! You must marry another wife. I must take my leave.' "My husband said: 'What is all this wild, mad talk? Who advises you to leave the world?' "I said: 'My Guru Thakur.' "My husband looked bewildered. 'Guru Thakur!' he cried. 'When did he give you this advice?' "'In the morning,' I answered, 'yesterday, when I met him on my way back from the river.' "His voice trembled a little. He turned, and looked in my face, and asked me: 'Why did he give you such a behest?' "'I do not know,' I answered. 'Ask him! He will tell you himself, if he can.' "My husband said: 'It is possible to leave the world, even when continuing to live in it. You need not leave my home. I will speak to my Guru about it.' "'Your Guru,' I said, 'may accept your petition; but my heart will never give its consent. I must leave your home. From henceforth, the world is no more to me.' "My husband remained silent, and we sat there on the floor in the dark. When it was light, he said to me: 'Let us both come to him.' "I folded my hands and said: 'I shall never meet him again.' "He looked into my face. I lowered my eyes. He said no more. I knew that, somehow, he had seen into my mind, and understood what was there. In this world of mine, there were only two who loved me best--my boy and my husband. That love was my God, and therefore it could brook no falsehood. One of these two left me, and I left the other. Now I must have truth, and truth alone." She touched the ground at my feet, rose and bowed to me, and departed. VISION I When I was a very young wife, I gave birth to a dead child, and came near to death myself. I recovered strength very slowly, and my eyesight became weaker and weaker. My husband at this time was studying medicine. He was not altogether sorry to have a chance of testing his medical knowledge on me. So he began to treat my eyes himself. My elder brother was reading for his law examination. One day he came to see me, and was alarmed at my condition. "What are you doing?" he said to my husband. "You are ruining Kumo's eyes. You ought to consult a good doctor at once." My husband said irritably: "Why! what can a good doctor do more than I am doing? The case is quite a simple one, and the remedies are all well known." Dada answered with scorn: "I suppose you think there is no difference between you and a Professor in your own Medical College." My husband replied angrily: "If you ever get married, and there is a dispute about your wife's property, you won't take my advice about Law. Why, then, do you now come advising me about Medicine?" While they were quarrelling, I was saying to myself that it was always the poor grass that suffered most when two kings went to war. Here was a dispute going on between these two, and I had to bear the brunt of it. It also seemed to me very unfair that, when my family had given me in marriage, they should interfere afterwards. After all, my pleasure and pain are my husband's concern, not theirs. From that day forward, merely over this trifling matter of my eyes, the bond between my husband and Dada was strained. To my surprise one afternoon, while my husband was away, Dada brought a doctor in to see me. He examined my eyes very carefully, and looked grave. He said that further neglect would be dangerous. He wrote out a prescription, and Dada for the medicine at once. When the strange doctor had gone, I implored my Dada not to interfere. I was sure that only evil would come from the stealthy visits of a doctor. I was surprised at myself for plucking up courage speak to my brother like that. I had always hitherto been afraid of him. I am sure also that Dada was surprised at my boldness. He kept silence for a while, and then said to me: "Very well, Kumo. I won't call in the doctor any more. But when the medicine comes you must take it." Dada then went away. The medicine came from chemist. I took it--bottles, powders, prescriptions and all--and threw it down the well! My husband had been irritated by Dada's interference, and he began to treat my eyes with greater diligence than ever. He tried all sorts of remedies. I bandaged my eyes as he told me, I wore his coloured glasses, I put in his drops, I took all his powders. I even drank the cod-liver oil he gave me, though my gorge rose against it. Each time he came back from the hospital, he would ask me anxiously how I felt; and I would answer: "Oh! much better." Indeed I became an expert in self-delusion. When I found that the water in my eyes was still increasing, I would console myself with the thought that it was a good thing to get rid of so much bad fluid; and, when the flow of water in my eyes decreased, I was elated at my husband's skill. But after a while the agony became unbearable. My eyesight faded away, and I had continual headaches day and night. I saw how much alarmed my husband was getting. I gathered from his manner that he was casting about for a pretext to call in a doctor. So I hinted that it might be as well to call one in. That he was greatly relieved, I could see. He called in an English doctor that very day. I do not know what talk they had together, but I gathered that the Sahib had spoken very sharply to my husband. He remained silent for some time after the doctor had gone. I took his hands in mine, and said: "What an ill-mannered brute that was! Why didn't you call in an Indian doctor? That would have been much better. Do you think that man knows better than you do about my eyes?" My husband was very silent for a moment, and then said with a broken voice: "Kumo, your eyes must be operated on." I pretended to be vexed with him for concealing the fact from me so long. "Here you have known this all the time," said I, "and yet you have said nothing about it! Do you think I am such a baby as to be afraid of an operation?" At that he regained his good spirits: "There are very few men," said he, "who are heroic enough to look forward to an operation without shrinking." I laughed at him: "Yes, that is so. Men are heroic only before their wives!" He looked at me gravely, and said: "You are perfectly right. We men are dreadfully vain." I laughed away his seriousness: "Are you sure you can beat us women even in vanity?" When Dada came, I took him aside: "Dada, that treatment your doctor recommended would have done me a world of good; only unfortunately. I mistook the mixture for the lotion. And since the day I made the mistake, my eyes have grown steadily worse; and now an operation is needed." Dada said to me: "You were under your husband's treatment, and that is why I gave up coming to visit you." "No," I answered. "In reality, I was secretly treating myself in accordance with your doctor's directions." Oh! what lies we women have to tell! When we are mothers, we tell lies to pacify our children; and when we are wives, we tell lies to pacify the fathers of our children. We are never free from this necessity. My deception had the effect of bringing about a better feeling between my husband and Dada. Dada blamed himself for asking me to keep a secret from my husband: and my husband regretted that he had not taken my brother's advice at the first. At last, with the consent of both, an English doctor came, and operated on my left eye. That eye, however, was too weak to bear the strain; and the last flickering glimmer of light went out. Then the other eye gradually lost itself in darkness. One day my husband came to my bedside. "I cannot brazen it out before you any longer," said he, "Kumo, it is I who have ruined your eyes." I felt that his voice was choking with tears, and so I took up his right hand in both of mine and said: "Why! you did exactly what was right. You have dealt only with that which was your very own. Just imagine, if some strange doctor had come and taken away my eyesight. What consolation should I have had then? But now I can feel that all has happened for the best; and my great comfort is to know that it is at your hands I have lost my eyes. When Ramchandra found one lotus too few with which to worship God, he offered both his eyes in place of the lotus. And I hate dedicated my eyes to my God. From now, whenever you see something that is a joy to you, then you must describe it to me; and I will feed upon your words as a sacred gift left over from your vision." I do not mean, of course, that I said all this there and then, for it is impossible to speak these things an the spur of the moment. But I used to think over words like these for days and days together. And when I was very depressed, or if at any time the light of my devotion became dim, and I pitied my evil fate, then I made my mind utter these sentences, one by one, as a child repeats a story that is told. And so I could breathe once more the serener air of peace and love. At the very time of our talk together, I said enough to show my husband what was in my heart. "Kumo," he said to me, "the mischief I have done by my folly can never be made good. But I can do one thing. I can ever remain by your side, and try to make up for your want of vision as much as is in my power." "No," said I. "That will never do. I shall not ask you to turn your house into an hospital for the blind. There is only one thing to be done, you must marry again." As I tried to explain to him that this was necessary, my voice broke a little. I coughed, and tried to hide my emotion, but he burst out saying: "Kumo, I know I am a fool, and a braggart, and all that, but I am not a villain! If ever I marry again, I swear to you--I swear to you the most solemn oath by my family god, Gopinath--may that most hated of all sins, the sin of parricide, fall on my head!" Ah! I should never, never have allowed him to swear that dreadful oath. But tears were choking my voice, and I could not say a word for insufferable joy. I hid my blind face in my pillows, and sobbed, and sobbed again. At last, when the first flood of my tears was over, I drew his head down to my breast. "Ah!" said I, "why did you take such a terrible oath? Do you think I asked you to marry again for your own sordid pleasure? No! I was thinking of myself, for she could perform those services which were mine to give you when I had my sight." "Services!" said he, "services! Those can be done by servants. Do you think I am mad enough to bring a slave into my house, and bid her share the throne with this my Goddess?" As he said the word "Goddess," he held up my face in his hands, and placed a kiss between my brows. At that moment the third eye of divine wisdom was opened, where he kissed me, and verily I had a consecration. I said in my own mind: "It is well. I am no longer able to serve him in the lower world of household cares. But I shall rise to a higher region. I shall bring down blessings from above. No more lies! No more deceptions for me! All the littlenesses and hypocrisies of my former life shall be banished for ever!" That day, the whole day through, I felt a conflict going on within me. The joy of the thought, that after this solemn oath it was impossible for my husband to marry again, fixed its roots deep in my heart, and I could not tear them out. But the new Goddess, who had taken her new throne in me, said: "The time might come when it would be good for your husband to break his oath and marry again." But the woman, who was within me, said: "That may be; but all the same an oath is an oath, and there is no way out." The Goddess, who was within me, answered: "That is no reason why you should exult over it." But the woman, who was within me, replied: "What you say is quite true, no doubt; all the same he has taken his oath." And the same story went on again and again. At last the Goddess frowned in silence, and the darkness of a horrible fear came down upon me. My repentant husband would not let the servants do my work; he must do it all himself. At first it gave me unbounded delight to be dependent on him thus for every little thing. It was a means of keeping him by my side, and my desire to have him with me had become intense since my blindness. That share of his presence, which my eyes had lost, my other senses craved. When he was absent from my side, I would feel as if I were hanging in mid-air, and had lost my hold of all things tangible. Formerly, when my husband came back late from the hospital, I used to open my window and gaze at the road. That road was the link which connected his world with mine. Now when I had lost that link through my blindness, all my body would go out to seek him. The bridge that united us had given way, and there was now this unsurpassable chasm. When he left my side the gulf seemed to yawn wide open. I could only wait for the time when he should cross back again from his own shore to mine. But such intense longing and such utter dependence can never be good. A wife is a burden enough to a man, in all conscience, and to add to it the burden of this blindness was to make his life unbearable. I vowed that I would suffer alone, and never wrap my husband round in the folds of my all-pervading darkness. Within an incredibly short space of time I managed to train myself to do all my household duties by the help of touch and sound and smell. In fact I soon found that I could get on with greater skill than before. For sight often distracts rather than helps us. And so it came to pass that, when these roving eyes of mine could do their work no longer, all the other senses took up their several duties with quietude and completeness. When I had gained experience by constant practice, I would not let my husband do any more household duties for me. He complained bitterly at first that I was depriving him of his penance. This did not convince me. Whatever he might say, I could feel that he had a real sense of relief when these household duties were over. To serve daily a wife who is blind can never make up the life of a man. II My husband at last had finished his medical course. He went away from Calcutta to a small town to practise as a doctor. There in the country I felt with joy, through all my blindness, that I was restored to the arms of my mother. I had left my village birthplace for Calcutta when I was eight years old. Since then ten years had passed away, and in the great city the memory of my village home had grown dim. As long as I had eyesight, Calcutta with its busy life screened from view the memory of my early days. But when I lost my eyesight I knew for the first time that Calcutta allured only the eyes: it could not fill the mind. And now, in my blindness, the scenes of my childhood shone out once more, like stars that appear one by one in the evening sky at the end of the day. It was the beginning of November when we left Calcutta for Harsingpur. The place was new to me, but the scents and sounds of the countryside pressed round and embraced me. The morning breeze coming fresh from the newly ploughed land, the sweet and tender smell of the flowering mustard, the shepherd-boy's flute sounding in the distance, even the creaking noise of the bullock-cart, as it groaned over the broken village road, filled my world with delight. The memory of my past life, with all its ineffable fragrance and sound, became a living present to me, and my blind eyes could not tell me I was wrong. I went back, and lived over again my childhood. Only one thing was absent: my mother was not with me. I could see my home with the large peepul trees growing along the edge of the village pool. I could picture in my mind's eye my old grandmother seated on the ground with her thin wisps of hair untied, warming her back in the sun as she made the little round lentil balls to be dried and used for cooking. But somehow I could not recall the songs she used to croon to herself in her weak and quavering voice. In the evening, whenever I heard the lowing of cattle, I could almost watch the figure of my mother going round the sheds with lighted lamp in her hand. The smell of the wet fodder and the pungent smoke of the straw fire would enter into my very heart. And in the distance I seemed to hear the clanging of the temple bell wafted up by the breeze from the river bank. Calcutta, with all its turmoil and gossip, curdles the heart. There, all the beautiful duties of life lose their freshness and innocence. I remember one day, when a friend of mine came in, and said to me: "Kumo, why don't you feel angry? If I had been treated like you by my husband, I would never look upon his face again." She tried to make me indignant, because he had been so long calling in a doctor. "My blindness," said I, "was itself a sufficient evil. Why should I make it worse by allowing hatred to grow up against my husband?" My friend shook her head in great contempt, when she heard such old-fashioned talk from the lips of a mere chit of a girl. She went away in disdain. But whatever might be my answer at the time, such words as these left their poison; and the venom was never wholly got out of the soul, when once they had been uttered. So you see Calcutta, with its never-ending gossip, does harden the heart. But when I came back to the country all my earlier hopes and faiths, all that I held true in life during childhood, became fresh and bright once more. God came to me, and filled my heart and my world. I bowed to Him, and said: "It is well that Thou has taken away my eyes. Thou art with me." Ah! But I said more than was right. It was a presumption to say: "Thou art with me." All we can say is this: "I must be true to Thee." Even when nothing is left for us, still we have to go on living. III We passed a few happy months together. My husband gained some reputation in his profession as a doctor. And money came with it. But there is a mischief in money. I cannot point to any one event; but, because the blind have keener perceptions than other people, I could discern the change which came over my husband along with the increase of wealth. He had a keen sense of justice when he was younger, and had often told me of his great desire to help the poor when once he obtained a practice of his own. He had a noble contempt far those in his profession who would not feel the pulse of a poor patient before collecting his fee. But now I noticed a difference. He had become strangely hard. Once when a poor woman came, and begged him, out of charity, to save the life of her only child, he bluntly refused. And when I implored him myself to help her, he did his work perfunctorily. While we were less rich my husband disliked sharp practice in money matters. He was scrupulously honourable in such things. But since he had got a large account at the bank he was often closeted for hours with some scamp of a landlord's agent, for purposes which clearly boded no good. Where has he drifted? What has become of this husband of mine,--the husband I knew before I was blind; the husband who kissed me that day between my brows, and enshrined me on the throne of a Goddess? Those whom a sudden gust of passion brings down to the dust can rise up again with a new strong impulse of goodness. But those who, day by day, become dried up in the very fibre of their moral being; those who by some outer parasitic growth choke the inner life by slow degrees,--such wench one day a deadness which knows no healing. The separation caused by blindness is the merest physical trifle. But, ah! it suffocates me to find that he is no longer with me, where he stood with me in that hour when we both knew that I was blind. That is a separation indeed! I, with my love fresh and my faith unbroken, have kept to the shelter of my heart's inner shrine. But my husband has left the cool shade of those things that are ageless and unfading. He is fast disappearing into the barren, waterless waste in his mad thirst for gold. Sometimes the suspicion comes to me that things not so bad as they seem: that perhaps I exaggerate because I am blind. It may be that, if my eyesight were unimpaired, I should have accepted world as I found it. This, at any rate, was the light in which my husband looked at all my moods and fancies. One day an old Musalman came to the house. He asked my husband to visit his little grand-daughter. I could hear the old man say: "Baba, I am a poor man; but come with me, and Allah will do you good." My husband answered coldly: "What Allah will do won't help matters; I want to know what you can do for me." When I heard it, I wondered in my mind why God had not made me deaf as well as blind. The old man heaved a deep sigh, and departed. I sent my maid to fetch him to my room. I met him at the door of the inner apartment, and put some money into his hand. "Please take this from me," said I, "for your little grand-daughter, and get a trustworthy doctor to look after her. And-pray for my husband." But the whole of that day I could take no food at all. In the afternoon, when my husband got up from sleep, he asked me: "Why do you look so pale?" I was about to say, as I used to do in the past: "Oh! It's nothing "; but those days of deception were over, and I spoke to him plainly. "I have been hesitating," I said, "for days together to tell you something. It has been hard to think out what exactly it was I wanted to say. Even now I may not be able to explain what I had in my mind. But I am sure you know what has happened. Our lives have drifted apart." My husband laughed in a forced manner, and said: "Change is the law of nature." I said to him: "I know that. But there are some things that are eternal." Then he became serious. "There are many women," said he, "who have a real cause for sorrow. There are some whose husbands do not earn money. There are others whose husbands do not love them. But you are making yourself wretched about nothing at all." Then it became clear to me that my very blindness had conferred on me the power of seeing a world which is beyond all change. Yes! It is true. I am not like other women. And my husband will never understand me. IV Our two lives went on with their dull routine for some time. Then there was a break in the monotony. An aunt of my husband came to pay us a visit. The first thing she blurted out after our first greeting was this: "Well, Krum, it's a great pity you have become blind; but why do you impose your own affliction on your husband? You must get him to another wife." There was an awkward pause. If my husband had only said something in jest, or laughed in her face, all would have been over. But he stammered and hesitated, and said at last in a nervous, stupid way: "Do you really think so? Really, Aunt, you shouldn't talk like that." His aunt appealed to me. "Was I wrong, Kumo?" I laughed a hollow laugh. "Had not you better," said I, "consult some one more competent to decide? The pickpocket never asks permission from the man whose pocket he is going to pick." "You are quite right," she replied blandly. "Abinash, my dear, let us have our little conference in private. What do you say to that?" After a few days my husband asked her, in my presence, if she knew of any girl of a decent family who could come and help me in my household work. He knew quite well that I needed no help. I kept silence. "Oh! there are heaps of them," replied his aunt. "My cousin has a daughter who is just of the marriageable age, and as nice a girl as you could wish. Her people would be only too glad to secure you as a husband." Again there came from him that forced, hesitating laugh, and he said: "But I never mentioned marriage." "How could you expect," asked his aunt, "a girl of decent family to come and live in your house without marriage?" He had to admit that this was reasonable, and remained nervously silent. I stood alone within the closed doors of my blindness after he had gone, and called upon my God and prayed: "O God, save my husband." When I was coming out of the household shrine from my morning worship a few days later, his aunt took hold of both my hands warmly. "Kumo, here is the girl," said she, "we were speaking about the other day. Her name is Hemangini. She will be delighted to meet you. Hemo, come here and be introduced to your sister." My husband entered the room at the same moment. He feigned surprise when he saw the strange girl, and was about to retire. But his aunt said: "Abinash, my dear, what are you running away for? There is no need to do that. Here is my cousin's daughter, Hemangini, come to see you. Hemo, make your bow to him." As if taken quite by surprise, he began to ply his aunt with questions about the when and why and how of the new arrival. I saw the hollowness of the whole thing, and took Hemangini by the hand and led her to my own room. I gently stroked her face and arms and hair, and found that she was about fifteen years old, and very beautiful. As I felt her face, she suddenly burst out laughing and said: "Why! what are you doing? Are you hypnotising me?" That sweet ringing laughter of hers swept away in a moment all the dark clouds that stood between us. I threw my right arm about her neck. "Dear one," said I, "I am trying to see you." And again I stroked her soft face with my left hand. "Trying to see me?" she said, with a new burst of laughter. "Am I like a vegetable marrow, grown in your garden, that you want to feel me all round to see how soft I am?" I suddenly bethought me that she did not know I had lost my sight. "Sister, I am blind," said I. She was silent. I could feel her big young eyes, full of curiosity, peering into my face. I knew they were full of pity. Then she grew thoughtful and puzzled, and said, after a short pause: "Oh! I see now. That was the reason your husband invited his aunt to come and stay here." "No!" I replied, "you are quite mistaken. He did not ask her to come. She came of her own accord." Hemangini went off into a peal of laughter. "That's just like my aunt," said she. "Oh I wasn't it nice of her to come without any invitation? But now she's come, you won't get her to move for some time, I can assure you!" Then she paused, and looked puzzled. "But why did father send me?" she asked. "Can you tell me that?" The aunt had come into the room while we were talking. Hemangini said to her: "When are you thinking of going back, Aunt?" The aunt looked very much upset. "What a question to ask!" said she, "I've never seen such a restless body as you. We've only just come, and you ask when we're going back!" "It is all very well for you," Hemangini said, "for this house belongs to your near relations. But what about me? I tell you plainly I can't stop here." And then she held my hand and said: "What do you think, dear?" I drew her to my heart, but said nothing. The aunt was in a great difficulty. She felt the situation was getting beyond her control; so she proposed that she and her niece should go out together to bathe. "No! we two will go together," said Hemangini, clinging to me. The aunt gave in, fearing opposition if she tried to drag her away. Going down to the river Hemangini asked me: "Why don't you have children?" I was startled by her question, and answered: "How can I tell? My God has not given me any. That is the reason." "No! That's not the reason," said Hemangini quickly. "You must have committed some sin. Look at my aunt. She is childless. It must be because her heart has some wickedness. But what wickedness is in your heart?" The words hurt me. I have no solution to offer for the problem of evil. I sighed deeply, and said in the silence of my soul: "My God! Thou knowest the reason." "Gracious goodness," cried Hemangini, "what are you sighing for? No one ever takes me seriously." And her laughter pealed across the river. V I found out after this that there were constant interruptions in my husband's professional duties. He refused all calls from a distance, and would hurry away from his patients, even when they were close at hand. Formerly it was only during the mid-day meals and at night-time that he could come into the inner apartment. But now, with unnecessary anxiety for his aunt's comfort, he began to visit her at all hours of the day. I knew at once that he had come to her room, when I heard her shouting for Hemangini to bring in a glass of water. At first the girl would do what she was told; but later on she refused altogether. Then the aunt would call, in an endearing voice: "Hemo! Hemo! Hemangini." But the girl would cling to me with an impulse of pity. A sense of dread and sadness would keep her silent. Sometimes she would shrink towards me like a hunted thing, who scarcely knew what was coming. About this time my brother came down from Calcutta to visit me. I knew how keen his powers of observation were, and what a hard judge he was. I feared my husband would be put on his defence, and have to stand his trial before him. So I endeavoured to hide the true situation behind a mask of noisy cheerfulness. But I am afraid I overdid the part: it was unnatural for me. My husband began to fidget openly, and asked how long my brother was going to stay. At last his impatience became little short of insulting, and my brother had no help for it but to leave. Before going he placed his hand on my head, and kept it there for some time. I noticed that his hand shook, and a tear fell from his eyes, as he silently gave me his blessing. I well remember that it was an evening in April, and a market-day. People who had come into the town were going back home from market. There was the feeling of an impending storm in the air; the smell of the wet earth and the moisture in the wind were all-pervading. I never keep a lighted lamp in my bedroom, when I am alone, lest my clothes should catch fire, or some accident happen. I sat on the floor in my dark room, and called upon the God of my blind world. "O my Lord," I cried, "Thy face is hidden. I cannot see. I am blind. I hold tight this broken rudder of a heart till my hands bleed. The waves have become too strong for me. How long wilt thou try me, my God, how long?" I kept my head prone upon the bedstead and began to sob. As I did so, I felt the bedstead move a little. The next moment Hemangini was by my side. She clung to my neck, and wiped my tears away silently. I do not know why she had been waiting that evening in the inner room, or why she had been lying alone there in the dusk. She asked me no question. She said no word. She simply placed her cool hand on my forehead, and kissed me, and departed. The next morning Hemangini said to her aunt in my presence: "If you want to stay on, you can. But I don't. I'm going away home with our family servant." The aunt said there was no need for her to go alone, for she was going away also. Then smilingly and mincingly she brought out, from a plush case, a ring set with pearls. "Look, Hemo," said she, "what a beautiful ring my Abinash brought for you." Hemangini snatched the ring from her hand. "Look, Aunt," she answered quickly, "just see how splendidly I aim." And she flung the ring into the tank outside the window. The aunt, overwhelmed with alarm, vexation, and surprise, bristled like a hedgehog. She turned to me, and held me by the hand. "Kumo," she repeated again and again, "don't say a word about this childish freak to Abinash. He would be fearfully vexed." I assured her that she need not fear. Not a word would reach him about it from my lips. The next day before starting for home Hemangini embraced me, and said: "Dearest, keep me in mind; do not forget me." I stroked her face over and over with my fingers, and said: "Sister, the blind have long memories." I drew her head towards me, and kissed her hair and her forehead. My world suddenly became grey. All the beauty and laughter and tender youth, which had nestled so close to me, vanished when Hemangini departed. I went groping about with arms outstretched, seeking to find out what was left in my deserted world. My husband came in later. He affected a great relief now that they were gone, but it was exaggerated and empty. He pretended that his aunt's visit had kept him away from work. Hitherto there had been only the one barrier of blindness between me and my husband. Now another barrier was added,--this deliberate silence about Hemangini. He feigned utter indifference, but I knew he was having letters about her. It was early in May. My maid entered my room one morning, and asked me: "What is all this preparation going on at the landing on the river? Where is Master going?" I knew there was something impending, but I said to the maid: "I can't say." The maid did not dare to ask me any more questions. She sighed, and went away. Late that night my husband came to me. "I have to visit a patient in the country," said he. "I shall have to start very early to-morrow morning, and I may have to be away for two or three days." I got up from my bed. I stood before him, and cried aloud: "Why are you telling me lies?" My husband stammered out: "What--what lies have I told you?" I said: "You are going to get married." He remained silent. For some moments there was no sound in the room. Then I broke the silence: "Answer me," I cried. "Say, yes." He answered, "Yes," like a feeble echo. I shouted out with a loud voice: "No! I shall never allow you. I shall save you from this great disaster, this dreadful sin. If I fail in this, then why am I your wife, and why did I ever worship my God?" The room remained still as a stone. I dropped on the floor, and clung to my husband's knees. "What have I done?" I asked. "Where have I been lacking? Tell me truly. Why do you want another wife?" My husband said slowly: "I will tell you the truth. I am afraid of you. Your blindness has enclosed you in its fortress, and I have now no entrance. To me you are no longer a woman. You are awful as my God. I cannot live my every day life with you. I want a woman--just an ordinary woman--whom I can be free to chide and coax and pet and scold." Oh, tear open my heart and see! What am I else but that,--just an ordinary woman? I am the same girl that I was when I was newly wed, a girl with all her need to believe, to confide, to worship. I do not recollect exactly the words that I uttered. I only remember that I said: "If I be a true wife, then, may God be my witness, you shall never do this wicked deed, you shall never break your oath. Before you commit such sacrilege, either I shall become a widow, or Hemangini shall die." Then I fell down on the floor in a swoon. When I came to myself, it was still dark. The birds were silent. My husband had gone. All that day I sat at my worship in the sanctuary at the household shrine. In the evening a fierce storm, with thunder and lightning and rain, swept down upon the house and shook it. As I crouched before the shrine, I did not ask my God to save my husband from the storm, though he must have been at that time in peril on the river. I prayed that whatever might happen to me, my husband might be saved from this great sin. Night passed. The whole of the next day I kept my seat at worship. When it was evening there was the noise of shaking and beating at the door. When the door was broken open, they found me lying unconscious on the ground, and carried me to my room. When I came to myself at last, I heard some one whispering in my ear: "Sister." I found that I was lying in my room with my head on Hemangini's lap. When my head moved, I heard her dress rustle. It was the sound of bridal silk. O my God, my God! My prayer has gone unheeded! My husband has fallen! Hemangini bent her head low, and said in a sweet whisper: "Sister, dearest, I have come to ask your blessing on our marriage." At first my whole body stiffened like the trunk of a tree that has been struck by lightning. Then I sat up, and said, painfully, forcing myself to speak the words: "Why should I not bless you? You have done no wrong." Hemangini laughed her merry laugh. "Wrong!" said she. "When you married it was right; and when I marry, you call it wrong!" I tried to smile in answer to her laughter. I said in my mind: "My prayer is not the final thing in this world. His will is all. Let the blows descend upon my head; but may they leave my faith and hope in God untouched." Hemangini bowed to me, and touched my feet. "May you be happy," said I, blessing her, "and enjoy unbroken prosperity." Hemangini was still unsatisfied. "Dearest sister," she said, "a blessing for me is not enough. You must make our happiness complete. You must, with those saintly hands of yours, accept into your home my husband also. Let me bring him to you." I said: "Yes, bring him to me." A few moments later I heard a familiar footstep, and the question, "Kumo, how are you?" I started up, and bowed to the ground, and cried: "Dada!" Hemangini burst out laughing. "You still call him elder brother?" she asked. "What nonsense! Call him younger brother now, and pull his ears and cease him, for he has married me, your younger sister." Then I understood. My husband had been saved from that great sin. He had not fallen. I knew my Dada had determined never to marry. And, since my mother had died, there was no sacred wish of hers to implore him to wedlock. But I, his sister, by my sore need bad brought it to pass. He had married for my sake. Tears of joy gushed from my eyes, and poured down my cheeks. I tried, but I could not stop them. Dada slowly passed his fingers through my hair. Hemangini clung to me, and went on laughing. I was lying awake in my bed for the best part of the night, waiting with straining anxiety for my husband's return. I could not imagine how he would bear the shock of shame and disappointment. When it was long past the hour of midnight, slowly my door opened. I sat up on my bed, and listened. They were the footsteps of my husband. My heart began to beat wildly. He came up to my bed, held my band in his. "Your Dada," said he, "has saved me from destruction. I was being dragged down and down by a moments madness. An infatuation had seized me, from which I seemed unable to escape. God alone knows what a load I was carrying on that day when I entered the boat. The storm came down on river, and covered the sky. In the midst of all fears I had a secret wish in my heart to be drowned, and so disentangle my life from the knot which I had tied it. I reached Mathurganj. There I heard the news which set me free. Your brother had married Hemangini. I cannot tell you with what joy and shame I heard it. I hastened on board the boat again. In that moment of self-revelation I knew that I could have no happiness except with you. You are a Goddess." I laughed and cried at the same time, and said: "No, no, no! I am not going to be a Goddess any longer I am simply your own little wife. I am an ordinary woman." "Dearest," he replied, "I have also something I want to say to you. Never again put me to shame by calling me your God." On the next day the little town became joyous with sound of conch shells. But nobody made any reference to that night of madness, when all was so nearly lost. THE BABUS OF NAYANJORE I Once upon a time the Babus of Nayanjore were famous landholders. They were noted for their princely extravagance. They would tear off the rough border of their Dacca muslin, because it rubbed against their skin. They could spend many thousands of rupees over the wedding of a kitten. On a certain grand occasion it is alleged that in order to turn night into day they lighted numberless lamps and showered silver threads from the sky to imitate sunlight. Those were the days before the flood. The flood came. The line of succession among these old-world Babus, with their lordly habits, could not continue for long. Like a lamp with too many wicks burning, the oil flared away quickly, and the light went out. Kailas Babu, our neighbour, is the last relic of this extinct magnificence. Before he grew up, his family had very nearly reached its lowest ebb. When his father died, there was one dazzling outburst of funeral extravagance, and then insolvency. The property was sold to liquidate the debt. What little ready money was left over was altogether insufficient to keep up the past ancestral splendours. Kailas Babu left Nayanjore, and came to Calcutta. His son did not remain long in this world of faded glory. He died, leaving behind him an only daughter. In Calcutta we are Kailas Baba's neighbours. Curiously enough our own family history is just the opposite to his. My father got his money by his own exertions, and prided himself on never spending a penny more than was needed. His clothes were those of a working man, and his hands also. He never had any inclination to earn the title of Baba by extravagant display, and I myself his only son, owe him gratitude for that. He gave me the very best education, and I was able to make my way in the world. I am not ashamed of the fact that I am a self-made man. Crisp bank-notes in my safe are dearer to me than a long pedigree in an empty family chest. I believe this was why I disliked seeing Kailas Baba drawing his heavy cheques on the public credit from the bankrupt bank of his ancient Babu reputation I used to fancy that he looked down on me, because my father had earned money with his own hands. I ought to have noticed that no one showed any vexation towards Kailas Babu except myself. Indeed it would have been difficult to find an old man who did less harm than he. He was always ready with his kindly little acts of courtesy in times of sorrow and joy. He would join in all the ceremonies and religious observances of his neighbours. His familiar smile would greet young and old alike. His politeness in asking details about domestic affairs was untiring. The friends who met him in the street were perforce ready to be button-holed, while a long string of questions of this kind followed one another from his lips: "My dear friend, I am delighted to see you. Are quite well? How is Shashi? and Dada--is he all right? Do you know, I've only just heard that Madhu's son has got fever. How is he? Have you heard? And Hari Charan Babu--I've not seen him for a long time--I hope he is not ill. What's the matter with Rakkhal? And, er--er, how are the ladies of your family?" Kailas Balm was spotlessly neat in his dress on all occasions, though his supply of clothes was sorely limited. Every day he used to air his shirts and vests and coats and trousers carefully, and put them out in the sun, along with his bed-quilt, his pillowcase, and the small carpet on which he always sat. After airing them he would shake them, and brush them, and put them on the rock. His little bits of furniture made his small room decent, and hinted that there was more in reserve if needed. Very often, for want of a servant, he would shut up his house for a while. Then he would iron out his shirts and linen with his own hands, and do other little menial tasks. After this he would open his door and receive his friends again. Though Kailas Balm, as I have said, had lost all his landed property, he had still same family heirlooms left. There was a silver cruet for sprinkling scented water, a filigree box for otto-of-roses, a small gold salver, a costly ancient shawl, and the old-fashioned ceremonial dress and ancestral turban. These he had rescued with the greatest difficulty from the money-lenders' clutches. On every suitable occasion he would bring them out in state, and thus try to save the world-famed dignity of the Babus of Nayanjore. At heart the most modest of men, in his daily speech he regarded it as a sacred duty, owed to his rank, to give free play to his family pride. His friends would encourage this trait in his character with kindly good-humour, and it gave them great amusement. The neighbourhood soon learnt to call him their Thakur Dada (Grandfather). They would flock to his house, and sit with him for hours together. To prevent his incurring any expense, one or other of his friends would bring him tobacco, and say: "Thakur Dada, this morning some tobacco was sent to me from Gaya. Do take it, and see how you like it." Thakur Dada would take it, and say it was excellent. He would then go on to tell of a certain exquisite tobacco which they once smoked in the old days at Nayanjore at the cost of a guinea an ounce. "I wonder," he used to say, "I wonder if any one would like to try it now. I have some left, and can get it at once." Every one knew, that, if they asked for it, then somehow or other the key of the cupboard would be missing; or else Ganesh, his old family servant, had put it away somewhere. "You never can be sure," he would add, "where things go to when servants are about. Now, this Ganesh of mine,--I can't tell you what a fool he is, but I haven't the heart to dismiss him." Ganesh, for the credit of the family, was quite ready to bear all the blame without a word. One of the company usually said at this point: "Never mind, Thakur Dada. Please don't trouble to look for it. This tobacco we're smoking will do quite well. The other would be too strong." Then Thakur Dada would be relieved, and settle down again, and the talk would go on. When his guests got up to go away, Thakur Dada would accompany them to the door, and say to them on the door-step: "Oh, by the way, when are you all coming to dine with me?" One or other of us would answer: "Not just yet, Thakur Dada, not just yet. We'll fix a day later." "Quite right," he would answer. "Quite right. We had much better wait till the rains come. It's too hot now. And a grand rich dinner such as I should want to give you would upset us in weather like this." But when the rains did come, every one careful not to remind him of his promise. If the subject was brought up, some friend would suggest gently that it was very inconvenient to get about when the rains were so severe, that it would be much better to wait till they were over. And so the game went on. His poor lodging was much too small for his position, and we used to condole with him about it. His friends would assure him they quite understood his difficulties: it was next to impossible to get a decent house in Calcutta. Indeed, they had all been looking out for years for a house to suit him, but, I need hardly add, no friend had been foolish enough to find one. Thakur Dada used to say, after a long sigh of resignation: "Well, well, I suppose I shall have to put up with this house after all." Then he would add with a genial smile: "But, you know, I could never bear to be away from my friends. I must be near you. That really compensates for everything." Somehow I felt all this very deeply indeed. I suppose the real reason was, that when a man is young stupidity appears to him the worst of crimes. Kailas Babu was not really stupid. In ordinary business matters every one was ready to consult him. But with regard to Nayanjore his utterances were certainly void of common sense. Because, out of amused affection for him, no one contradicted his impossible statements, he refused to keep them in bounds. When people recounted in his hearing the glorious history of Nayanjore with absurd exaggerations he would accept all they said with the utmost gravity, and never doubted, even in his dreams, that any one could disbelieve it. II When I sit down and try to analyse the thoughts and feelings that I had towards Kailas Babu I see that there was a still deeper reason for my dislike. I will now explain. Though I am the son of a rich man, and might have wasted time at college, my industry was such that I took my M.A. degree in Calcutta University when quite young. My moral character was flawless. In addition, my outward appearance was so handsome, that if I were to call myself beautiful, it might be thought a mark of self-estimation, but could not be considered an untruth. There could be no question that among the young men of Bengal I was regarded by parents generally as a very eligible match. I was myself quite clear on the point, and had determined to obtain my full value in the marriage market. When I pictured my choice, I had before my mind's eye a wealthy father's only daughter, extremely beautiful and highly educated. Proposals came pouring in to me from far and near; large sums in cash were offered. I weighed these offers with rigid impartiality, in the delicate scales of my own estimation. But there was no one fit to be my partner. I became convinced, with the poet Bhabavuti, that In this worlds endless time and boundless space One may be born at last to match my sovereign grace. But in this puny modern age, and this contracted space of modern Bengal, it was doubtful if the peerless creature existed as yet. Meanwhile my praises were sung in many tunes, and in different metres, by designing parents. Whether I was pleased with their daughters or not, this worship which they offered was never unpleasing. I used to regard it as my proper due, because I was so good. We are told that when the gods withhold their boons from mortals they still expect their worshippers to pay them fervent honour, and are angry if it is withheld. I had that divine expectance strongly developed in myself. I have already mentioned that Thakur Dada had an only grand-daughter. I had seen her many times, but had never mistaken her for beautiful. No thought had ever entered my mind that she would be a possible partner for myself. All the same, it seemed quite certain to me that some day ox other Kailas Babu would offer her, with all due worship, as an oblation at my shrine. Indeed-this was the secret of my dislike-I was thoroughly annoyed that he had not done it already. I heard he had told his friends that the Babus of Nayanjore never craved a boon. Even if the girl remained unmarried, he would not break the family tradition. It was this arrogance of his that made me angry. My indignation smouldered for some time. But I remained perfectly silent, and bore it with the utmost patience, because I was so good. As lightning accompanies thunder, so in my character a flash of humour was mingled with the mutterings of my wrath. It was, of course, impossible for me to punish the old man merely to give vent to my rage; and for a long time I did nothing at all. But suddenly one day such an amusing plan came into my head, that I could not resist the temptation of carrying it into effect. I have already said that many of Kailas Babu's friends used to flatter the old man's vanity to the full. One, who was a retired Government servant, had told him that whenever he saw the Chota Lord Sahib he always asked for the latest news about the Babus of Nayanjore, and the Chota Lard had been heard to say that in all Bengal the only really respectable families were those of the Maharaja of Burdwan and the Babus of Nayanjore. When this monstrous falsehood was told to Kailas Balm he was extremely gratified, and often repeated the story. And wherever after that he met this Government servant in company he would ask, along with other questions: "Oh! er--by the way, how is the Chota Lord Sahib? Quite well, did you say? Ah, yes, I am so delighted to hear it I And the dear Mem Sahib, is she quite well too? Ah, yes! and the little children-are they quite well also? Ah, yes I that's very goad news! Be sure and give them my compliments when you see them." Kailas Balm would constantly express his intention of going some day and paying a visit to the Sahib. But it may be taken for granted that many Chota Lords and Burro Lords also would come and go, and much water would pass down the Hoogly, before the family coach of Nayanjore would be furnished up to pay a visit to Government House. One day I took Kailas Babu aside, and told him in a whisper: "Thakur Dada, I was at the Levee yesterday, and the Chota Lord happened to mention the Babes of Nayanjore. I told him that Kailas Balm had come to town. Do you know, he was terribly hurt because you hadn't called. He told me he was going to put etiquette on one side, and pay you a private visit himself this very afternoon." Anybody else could have seen through this plot of mine in a moment. And, if it had been directed against another person, Kailas Balm would have understood the joke. But after all he had heard from his friend the Government servant, and after all his own exaggerations, a visit from the Lieutenant-Governor seemed the most natural thing in the world. He became highly nervous and excited at my news. Each detail of the coming visit exercised him greatly--most of all his own ignorance of English. How on earth was that difficulty to be met? I told him there was no difficulty at all: it was aristocratic not to know English: and, besides, the Lieutenant-Governor always brought an interpreter with him, and he had expressly mentioned that this visit was to be private. About mid-day, when most of our neighbours are at work, and the rest are asleep, a carriage and pair stopped before the lodging of Kailas Babu. Two flunkeys in livery came up the stairs, and announced in a loud voice, "The Chota Lord Sahib hoe arrived." Kailas Babu was ready, waiting for him, in his old-fashioned ceremonial robes and ancestral turban, and Ganesh was by his side, dressed in his master's best suit of clothes for the occasion. When the Chota Lord Sahib was announced, Kailas Balm ran panting and puffing and trembling to the door, and led in a friend of mine, in disguise, with repeated salaams, bowing low at each step, and walking backward as best he could. He had his old family shawl spread over a hard wooden chair, and he asked the Lord Sahib to be seated. He then made a high flown speech in Urdu, the ancient Court language of the Sahibs, and presented on the golden salver a string of gold mohurs, the last relics of his broken fortune. The old family servant Ganesh, with an expression of awe bordering on terror, stood behind with the scent-sprinkler, drenching the Lord Sahib, touching him gingerly from time to time with the otto-of-roses from the filigree box. Kailas Babu repeatedly expressed his regret at not being able to receive His Honour Bahadur with all the ancestral magnificence of his own family estate at Nayanjore. There he could have welcomed him properly with due ceremonial. But in Calcutta he was a mere stranger and sojourner-in fact a fish out of water. My friend, with his tall silk hat on, very gravely nodded. I need hardly say that according to English custom the hat ought to have been removed inside the room. But my friend did not dare to take it off for fear of detection; and Kailas Balm and his old servant Ganesh were sublimely unconscious of the breach of etiquette. After a ten minutes' interview, which consisted chiefly of nodding the head, my friend rose to his feet to depart. The two flunkeys in livery, as had been planned beforehand, carried off in state the string of gold mohurs, the gold salver, the old ancestral shawl, the silver scent-sprinkler, and the otto-of-roses filigree box; they placed them ceremoniously in the carriage. Kailas Babu regarded this as the usual habit of Chota Lard Sahibs. I was watching all the while from the next room. My sides were aching with suppressed laughter. When I could hold myself in no longer, I rushed into a further room, suddenly to discover, in a corner, a young girl sobbing as if her heart would break. When she saw my uproarious laughter she stood upright in passion, flashing the lightning of her big dark eyes in mine, and said with a tear-choked voice: "Tell me! What harm has my grandfather done to you? Why have you come to deceive him? Why have you come here? Why--" She could say no more. She covered her face with her hands, and broke into sobs. My laughter vanished in a moment. It had never occurred to me that there was anything but a supremely funny joke in this act of mine, and here I discovered that I had given the cruelest pain to this tenderest little heart. All the ugliness of my cruelty rose up to condemn me. I slunk out of the room in silence, like a kicked dog. Hitherto I had only looked upon Kusum, the grand-daughter of Kailas Babu, as a somewhat worthless commodity in the marriage market, waiting in vain to attract a husband. But now I found, with a shock of surprise, that in the corner of that room a human heart was beating. The whole night through I had very little sleep. My mind was in a tumult. On the next day, very early in the morning, I took all those stolen goods back to Kailas Babe's lodgings, wishing to hand them over in secret to the servant Ganesh. I waited outside the door, and, not finding any one, went upstairs to Kailas Babu's room. I heard from the passage Kusum asking her grandfather in the most winning voice: "Dada, dearest, do tell me all that the Chota Lord Sahib said to you yesterday. Don't leave out a single word. I am dying to hear it all over again." And Dada needed no encouragement. His face beamed over with pride as he related all manner of praises, which the Lard Sahib had been good enough to utter concerning the ancient families of Nayanjore. The girl was seated before him, looking up into his face, and listening with rapt attention. She was determined, out of love for the old man, to play her part to the full. My heart was deeply touched, and tears came to my eyes. I stood there in silence in the passage, while Thakur Dada finished all his embellishments of the Chota Lord Sahib's wonderful visit. When he left the room at last, I took the stolen goods and laid them at the feet of the girl and came away without a word. Later in the day I called again to see Kailas Balm himself. According to our ugly modern custom, I had been in the habit of making no greeting at all to this old man when I came into the room. But on this day I made a low bow, and touched his feet. I am convinced the old man thought that the coming of the Chota Lord Sahib to his house was the cause of my new politeness. He was highly gratified by it, and an air of benign severity shone from his eyes. His friends had flocked in, and he had already begun to tell again at full length the story of the Lieutenant-Governor's visit with still further adornments of a most fantastic kind. The interview was already becoming an epic, both in quality and in length. When the other visitors had taken their leave, I made my proposal to the old man in a humble manner. I told him that, "though I could never for a moment hope to be worthy of marriage connection with such an illustrious family, yet... etc. etc." When I made clear my proposal of marriage, the old man embraced me, and broke out in a tumult of joy: "I am a poor man, and could never have expected such great good fortune." That was the first and last time in his life that Kailas Babu confessed to being poor. It was also the first and last time in his life that he forgot, if only for a single moment, the ancestral dignity that belongs to the Babus of Nayanjore. LIVING OR DEAD? I The widow in the house of Saradasankar, the Ranihat zemindar, had no kinsmen of her father's family. One after another all had died. Nor had she in her husband's family any one she could call her own, neither husband nor son. The child of her brother-in-law Saradasankar was her darling. Far a long time after his birth, his mother had been very ill, and the widow, his aunt Kadambini, had fostered him. If a woman fosters another's child, her love for him is all the stronger because she has no claim upon him-no claim of kinship, that is, but simply the claim of love. Love cannot prove its claim by any document which society accepts, and does not wish to prove it; it merely worships with double passion its life's uncertain treasure. Thus all the widow's thwarted love went out to wards this little child. One night in Sraban Kadambini died suddenly. For some reason her heart stopped beating. Everywhere else the world held on its course; only in this gentle little breast, suffering with love, the watch of time stood still for ever. Lest they should be harassed by the poike, four of the zemindar's Brahmin servants took away the body, without ceremony, to be burned. The burning-ground of Ranihat was very far from the village. There was a hut beside a tank, a huge banian near it, and nothing more. Formerly a river, now completely dried up, ran through the ground, and part of the watercourse had been dug out to make a tank for the performance of funeral rites. The people considered the tank as part of the river and reverenced it as such. Taking the body into the hut, the four men sat down to wait for the wood. The time seemed so long that two of the four grew restless, and went to see why it did not come. Nitai and Gurucharan being gone, Bidhu and Banamali remained to watch over the body. It was a dark night of Sraban. Heavy clouds hung In a starless sky. The two men sat silent in the dark room. Their matches and lamp were useless. The matches were damp, and would not light, for all their efforts, and the lantern went out. After a long silence, one said: "Brother, it would be good if we had a bowl of tobacco. In our hurry we brought none." The other answered: "I can run and bring all we want." Understanding why Banarnali wanted to go (From fear of ghosts, the burning-ground being considered haunted.), Bidhu said: "I daresay! Meanwhile, I suppose I am to sit here alone!" Conversation ceased again. Five minutes seemed like an hour. In their minds they cursed the two, who had gone to fetch the wood, and they began to suspect that they sat gossiping in some pleasant nook. There was no sound anywhere, except the incessant noise of frogs and crickets from the tank. Then suddenly they fancied that the bed shook slightly, as if the dead body had turned on its side. Bidhu and Banamali trembled, and began muttering: "Ram, Ram." A deep sigh was heard in the room. In a moment the watchers leapt out of the hut, and raced for the village. After running about three miles, they met their colleagues coming back with a lantern. As a matter of fact, they had gone to smoke, and knew nothing about the wood. But they declared that a tree had been cut down, and that, when it was split up, it would be brought along at once. Then Bidhu and Banamali told them what had happened in the hut. Nitai and Gurucharan scoffed at the story, and abused Bidhu and Banamali angrily for leaving their duty. Without delay all four returned to the hut. As they entered, they saw at once that the body was gone; nothing but an empty bed remained. They stared at one another. Could a jackal have taken it? But there was no scrap of clothing anywhere. Going outside, they saw that on the mud that had collected at the door of the but there were a woman's tiny footprints, newly made. Saradasankar was no fool, and they could hardly persuade him to believe in this ghost story. So after much discussion the four decided that it would be best to say that the body had been burnt. Towards dawn, when the men with the wood arrived they were told that, owing to their delay, the work had been done without them; there had been some wood in the but after all. No one was likely to question this, since a dead body is not such a valuable property that any one would steal it. II Every one knows that, even when there is no sign, life is often secretly present, and may begin again in an apparently dead body. Kadambini was not dead; only the machine of her life had for some reason suddenly stopped. When consciousness returned, she saw dense darkness on all sides. It occurred to her that she was not lying in her usual place. She called out "Sister," but no answer came from the darkness. As she sat up, terror-stricken, she remembered her death-bed, the sudden pain at her breast, the beginning of a choking sensation. Her elder sister-in-law was warming some milk for the child, when Kadambini became faint, and fell on the bed, saying with a choking voice: "Sister, bring the child here. I am worried." After that everything was black, as when an inkpot is upset over an exercise-book. Kadambini's memory and consciousness, all the letters of the world's book, in a moment became formless. The widow could not remember whether the child, in the sweet voice of love, called her "Auntie," as if for the last time, or not; she could not remember whether, as she left the world she knew for death's endless unknown journey, she had received a parting gift of affection, love's passage-money for the silent land. At first, I fancy, she thought the lonely dark place was the House of Yama, where there is nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to do, only an eternal watch. But when a cold damp wind drove through the open door, and she heard the croaking of frogs, she remembered vividly and in a moment all the rains of her short life, and could feel her kinship with the earth. Then came a flash of lightning, and she saw the tank, the banian, the great plain, the far-off trees. She remembered how at full moon she had sometimes come to bathe in this tank, and how dreadful death had seemed when she saw a corpse on the burning-ground. Her first thought was to return home. But then she reflected: "I am dead. How can I return home? That would bring disaster on them. I have left the kingdom of the living; I am my own ghost!" If this were not so, she reasoned, how could she have got out of Saradasankar's well-guarded zenana, and come to this distant burningground at midnight? Also, if her funeral rites had not been finished, where had the men gone who should burn her? Recalling her death-moment in Saradasankar's brightly-lit house, she now found herself alone in a distant, deserted, dark burning. ground. Surely she was no member of earthly society! Surely she was a creature of horror, of ill-omen, her own ghost! At this thought, all the bonds were snapped which bound her to the world. She felt that she had marvellous strength, endless freedom. She could do what she liked, go where she pleased. Mad with the inspiration of this new idea, she rushed from the but like a gust of wind, and stood upon the burning ground. All trace of shame or fear had left her. But as she walked on and on, her feet grew tired, her body weak. The plain stretched on endlessly; here and there were paddy-fields; sometimes she found herself standing knee-deep in water. At the first glimmer of dawn she heard one or two birds cry from the bamboo-clumps by the distant houses. Then terror seized her. She could not tell in what new relation she stood to the earth and to living folk. So long as she had been on the plain, on the burning-ground, covered by the dark night of Sraban, so long she had been fearless, a denizen of her own kingdom. By daylight the homes of men filled her with fear. Men and ghosts dread each other, for their tribes inhabit different banks of the river of death. III Her clothes were clotted in the mud; strange thoughts and walking by night had given her the aspect of a madwoman; truly, her apparition was such that folk might have been afraid of her, and children might have stoned her or run away. Luckily, the first to catch sight of her was a traveller. He came up, and said: "Mother, you look a respectable woman. Wherever are you going, alone and in this guise?" Kadambini, unable to collect her thoughts, stared at him in silence. She could not think that she was still in touch with the world, that she looked like a respectable woman, that a traveller was asking her questions. Again the min said: "Come, mother, I will see you home. Tell me where you live." Kadambini thought. To return to her father-in-law's house would be absurd, and she had no father's house. Then she remembered the friend of her childhood. She had not seen Jogmaya since the days of her youth, but from time to time they had exchanged letters. Occasionally there had been quarrels between them, as was only right, since Kadambini wished to make it dear that her love for Jogmaya was unbounded, while her friend complained that Kadambini did not return a love equal to her own. They were both sure that, if they once met, they would be inseparable. Kadambini said to the traveller: "I will go to Sripati's house at Nisindapur." As he was going to Calcutta, Nisindapur, though not near, was on his way. So he took Kadambini to Sripati s house, and the friends met again. At first they did not recognise one another, but gradually each recognised the features of the other's childhood. "What luck!" said Jogmaya. "I never dreamt that I should see you again. But how hate you come here, sister? Your father-in-law's folk surely didn't let you go!" Kadambini remained silent, and at last said: "Sister, do not ask about my father-in-law. Give me a corner, and treat me as a servant: I will do your work." "What?" cried Jogmaya. "Keep you like a servant! Why, you are my closest friend, you are my--" and so on and so on. Just then Sripati came in. Kadambini stared at him for some time, and then went out very slowly. She kept her head uncovered, and showed not the slightest modesty or respect. Jogmaya, fearing that Sripati would be prejudiced against her friend, began an elaborate explanation. But Sripati, who readily agreed to anything Jogmaya said, cut short her story, and left his wife uneasy in her mind. Kadambini had come, but she was not at one with her friend: death was between them. She could feel no intimacy for others so long as her existence perplexed her and consciousness remained. Kadambini would look at Jogmaya, and brood. She would think: "She has her husband and her work, she lives in a world far away from mine. She shares affection and duty with the people of the world; I am an empty shadow. She is among the living; I am in eternity." Jogmaya also was uneasy, but could not explain why. Women do not love mystery, because, though uncertainty may be transmuted into poetry, into heroism, into scholarship, it cannot be turned to account in household work. So, when a woman cannot understand a thing, she either destroys and forgets it, or she shapes it anew for her own use; if she fails to deal with it in one of these ways, she loses her temper with it. The greater Kadambini's abstraction became, the more impatient was Jogmaya with her, wondering what trouble weighed upon her mind. Then a new danger arose. Kadambini was afraid of herself; yet she could not flee from herself. Those who fear ghosts fear those who are behind them; wherever they cannot see there is fear. But Kadambini's chief terror lay in herself, for she dreaded nothing external. At the dead of night, when alone in her room, she screamed; in the evening, when she saw her shadow in the lamp-light, her whole body shook. Watching her fearfulness, the rest of the house fell into a sort of terror. The servants and Jogmaya herself began to see ghosts. One midnight, Kadambini came out from her bedroom weeping, and wailed at Jogmaya's door: "Sister, sister, let me lie at your feet! Do not put me by myself!" Jogmaya's anger was no less than her fear. She would have liked to drive Kadambini from the house that very second. The good-natured Sripati, after much effort, succeeded in quieting their guest, and put her in the next room. Next day Sripati was unexpectedly summoned to his wife's apartments. She began to upbraid him: "You, do you call yourself a man? A woman runs away from her father-in-law, and enters your house; a month passes, and you haven't hinted that she should go away, nor have I heard the slightest protest from you. I should cake it as a favour if you would explain yourself. You men are all alike." Men, as a race, have a natural partiality for womankind in general, foe which women themselves hold them accountable. Although Sripati was prepared to touch Jogmaya's body, and swear that his kind feeling towards the helpless but beautiful Kadambini was no whit greater than it should be, he could not prove it by his behaviour. He thought that her father-in-law's people must have treated this forlorn widow abominably, if she could bear it no longer, and was driven to take refuge with him. As she had neither father nor mother, how could he desert her? So saying, he let the matter drop, far he had no mind to distress Kadambini by asking her unpleasant questions. His wife, then, tried other means of her sluggish lord, until at last he saw that for the sake of peace he must send word to Kadambini's father-in-law. The result of a letter, he thought, might not be satisfactory; so he resolved to go to Ranihat, and act on what he learnt. So Sripati went, and Jogmaya on her part said to Kadambini "Friend, it hardly seems proper for you to stop here any longer. What will people say?" Kadambini stared solemnly at Jogmaya, and said: "What have I to do with people?" Jogmaya was astounded. Then she said sharply: "If you have nothing to do with people, we have. How can we explain the detention of a woman belonging to another house?" Kadambini said: "Where is my father-in-law's house?" "Confound it!" thought Jogmaya. "What will the wretched woman say next?" Very slowly Kadambini said: "What have I to do with you? Am I of the earth? You laugh, weep, love; each grips and holds his own; I merely look. You are human, I a shadow. I cannot understand why God has kept me in this world of yours." So strange were her look and speech that Jogmaya understood something of her drift, though not all. Unable either to dismiss her, or to ask her any more questions, she went away, oppressed with thought. IV It was nearly ten o'clock at night when Sripati returned from Ranihat. The earth was drowned in torrents of rain. It seemed that the downpour would never stop, that the night would never end. Jogmaya asked: "Well?" "I've lots to say, presently." So saying, Sripati changed his clothes, and sat down to supper; then he lay dawn for a smoke. His mind was perplexed. His wife stilled her curiosity for a long time; then she came to his couch and demanded: "What did you hear?" "That you have certainly made a mistake." Jogmaya was nettled. Women never make mistakes, or, if they do, a sensible man never mentions them; it is better to take them on his own shoulders. Jogmaya snapped: "May I be permitted to hear how?" Sripati replied: "The woman you have taken into your house is not your Kadambini." Hearing this, she was greatly annoyed, especially since it was her husband who said it. "What! I don't know my own friend? I must come to you to recognise her! You are clever, indeed!" Sripati explained that there was no need to quarrel about his cleverness. He could prove what he said. There was no doubt that Jogmaya's Kadambini was dead. Jogmaya replied: "Listen! You've certainly made some huge mistake. You've been to the wrong house, or are confused as to what you have heard. Who told you to go yourself? Write a letter, and everything will be cleared up." Sripati was hurt by his wife's lack of faith in his executive ability; he produced all sorts of proof, without result. Midnight found them still asserting and contradicting. Although they were both agreed now that Kadambini should be got out of the house, although Sripati believed that their guest had deceived his wife all the time by a pretended acquaintance, and Jogmaya that she was a prostitute, yet in the present discussion neither would acknowledge defeat. By degrees their voices became so loud that they forgot that Kadambini was sleeping in the next room. The one said: "We're in a nice fix! I tell you, I heard it with my own ears!" And the other answered angrily: "What do I care about that? I can see with my own eyes, surely." At length Jogmaya said: "Very well. Tell me when Kadambini died." She thought that if she could find a discrepancy between the day of death and the date of some letter from Kadambini, she could prove that Sripati erred. He told her the date of Kadambini's death, and they both saw that it fell on the very day before she came to their house. Jogmaya's heart trembled, even Sripati was not unmoved. Just then the door flew open; a damp wind swept in and blew the lamp out. The darkness rushed after it, and filled the whole house. Kadambini stood in the room. It was nearly one o'clock, the rain was pelting outside. Kadambini spoke: "Friend, I am your Kadambini, but I am no longer living. I am dead." Jogmaya screamed with terror; Sripati could speak. "But, save in being dead, I have done you no wrong. If I have no place among the living, I have none among the dead. Oh! whither shall I go?" Crying as if to wake the sleeping Creator in the dense night of rain, she asked again: "Oh! whither shall I go?" So saying Kadambini left her friend fainting in the dark house, and went out into the world, seeking her own place. V It is hard to say how Kadambini reached Ranihat. At first she showed herself to no one, but spent the whole day in a ruined temple, starving. When the untimely afternoon of the rains was pitch-black, and people huddled into their houses for fear of the impending storm, then Kadambini came forth. Her heart trembled as she reached her father-in-law's house; and when, drawing a thick veil over her face, she entered, none of the doorkeepers objected, since they took her for a servant. And the rain was pouring down, and the wind howled. The mistress, Saradasankar's wife, was playing cards with her widowed sister. A servant was in the kitchen, the sick child was sleeping in the bedroom. Kadambini, escaping every one's notice, entered this room. I do not know why she had come to her father-in-law's house; she herself did not know; she felt only that she wanted to see her child again. She had no thought where to go next, or what to do. In the lighted room she saw the child sleeping, his fists clenched, his body wasted with fever. At sight of him, her heart became parched and thirsty. If only she could press that tortured body to her breast! Immediately the thought followed: "I do not exist. Who would see it? His mother loves company, loves gossip and cards. All the time that she left me in charge, she was herself free from anxiety, nor was she troubled about him in the least. Who will look after him now as I did?" The child turned on his side, and cried, half-asleep: "Auntie, give me water." Her darling had not yet forgotten his auntie! In a fever of excitement, she poured out some water, and, taking him to her breast, she gave it him. As long as he was asleep, the child felt no strangeness in taking water from the accustomed hand. But when Kadambini satisfied her long-starved longing, and kissed him and began rocking him asleep again, he awoke and embraced her. "Did you die, Auntie?" he asked. "Yes, darling." "And you have come back? Do not die again." Before she could answer disaster overtook her. One of the maidservants coming in with a cup of sago dropped it, and fell down. At the crash the mistress left her cards, and entered the room. She stood like a pillar of wood, unable to flee or speak. Seeing all this, the child, too, became terrified, and burst out weeping: "Go away, Auntie," he said, "go away!" Now at last Kadambini understood that she had not died. The old room, the old things, the same child, the same love, all returned to their living state, without change or difference between her and them. In her friend's house she had felt that her childhood's companion was dead. In her child's room she knew that the boy's "Auntie" was not dead at all. In anguished tones she said: "Sister, why do you dread me? See, I am as you knew me." Her sister-in-law could endure no longer, and fell into a faint. Saradasankar himself entered the zenana. With folded hands, he said piteously: "Is this right? Satis is my only son. Why do you show yourself to him? Are we not your own kin? Since you went, he has wasted away daily; his fever has been incessant; day and night he cries: 'Auntie, Auntie.' You have left the world; break these bonds of maya (Illusory affection binding a soul to the world). We will perform all funeral honours." Kadambini could bear no more. She said: "Oh, I am not dead, I am not dead. Oh, how can I persuade you that I am not dead? I am living, living!" She lifted a brass pot from the ground and dashed it against her forehead. The blood ran from her brow. "Look!" she cried, "I am living!" Saradasankar stood like an image; the child screamed with fear, the two fainting women lay still. Then Kadambini, shouting "I am not dead, I am not dead," went down the steps to the zenana well, and plunged in. From the upper storey Saradasankar heard the splash. All night the rain poured; it poured next day at dawn, was pouring still at noon. By dying, Kadambini had given proof that she was not dead. "WE CROWN THEE KING" When Nabendu Sekhar was wedded to Arunlekha, the God of marriage smiled from behind the sacrificial fire. Alas! what is sport for the gods is not always a joke to us poor mortals. Purnendu Sekhar, the father of Nabendu, was a man well known amongst the English officials of the Government. In the voyage of life he had arrived at the desert shores of Rai Bahadurship by diligently plying his oats of salaams. He held in reserve enough for further advancement, but at the age of fifty-five, his tender gaze still fixed on the misty peals of Raja-hood, he suddenly found himself transported to a region where earthly honours and decorations are naught, and his salaam-wearied neck found everlasting repose on the funeral pyre. According to modern science, force is not destroyed, but is merely converted to another form, and applied to another point. So Purnendu's salaam-force, constant handmaid of the fickle Goddess of Fortune, descended from the shoulder of the father to that of his worthy son; and the youthful head of Nabendu Sekhar began to move up and down, at the doors of high-placed Englishmen, like a pumpkin swayed by the wind. The traditions of the family into which he had married were entirely different. Its eldest son, Pramathanath, had won for himself the love of his kinsfolk and the regard of all who knew him. His kinsmen and his neighbours looked up to him as their ideal in all things. Pramathanath was a Bachelor of Arts, and in addition was gifted with common sense. But he held no high official position; he had no handsome salary; nor did he exert any influence with his pen. There was no one in power to lend him a helping hand, because he desired to keep away from Englishmen, as much as they desired to keep away from him. So it happened that he shone only within the sphere of his family and his friends, and excited no admiration beyond it. Yet this Pramathanath had once sojourned in England for some three years. The kindly treatment he received during his stay there overpowered him so much that he forgot the sorrow and the humiliation of his own country, and came back dressed in European clothes. This rather grieved his brothers and his sisters at first, but after a few days they began to think that European clothes suited nobody better, and gradually they came to share his pride and dignity. On his return from England, Pramathanath resolved that he would show the world how to associate with Anglo-Indians on terms of equality. Those of our countrymen who think that no such association is possible, unless we bend our knees to them, showed their utter lack of self-respect, and were also unjust to the English-so thought Pramathanath. He brought with him letters of introduction from many distinguished Englishmen at home, and these gave him some recognition in Anglo-Indian society. He and his wife occasionally enjoyed English hospitality at tea, dinner, sports and other entertainments. Such good luck intoxicated him, and began to produce a tingling sensation in every vein of his body. About this time, at the opening of a new railway line, many of the town, proud recipients of official favour, were invited by the Lieutenant-Governor to take the first trip. Pramathanath was among them. On the return journey, a European Sergeant of the Police expelled some Indian gentlemen from a railway-carriage with great insolence. Pramathanath, dressed in his European clothes, was there. He, too, was getting out, when the Sergeant said: "You needn't move, sir. Keep your seat, please." At first Pramathanath felt flattered at the special respect thus shown to him. When, however, the train went on, the dull rays of the setting sun, at the west of the fields, now ploughed up and stripped of green, seemed in his eyes to spread a glow of shame over the whole country. Sitting near the window of his lonely compartment, he seemed to catch a glimpse of the down-cast eyes of his Motherland, hidden behind the trees. As Pramathanath sat there, lost in reverie, burning tears flowed down his cheeks, and his heart burst with indignation. He now remembered the story of a donkey who was drawing the chariot of an idol along the street. The wayfarers bowed down to the idol, and touched the dusty ground with their foreheads. The foolish donkey imagined that all this reverence was being shown to him. "The only difference," said Pramathanath to himself, "between the donkey and myself is this: I understand to-day that the respect I receive is not given to me but to the burden on my back." Arriving home, Pramathanath called together all the children of the household, and lighting a big bonfire, threw all his European clothes into it one by one. The children danced round and round it, and the higher the flames shot up, the greater was their merriment. After that, Pramathanath gave up his sip of tea and bits of toast in Anglo-Indian houses, and once again sat inaccessible within the castle of his house, while his insulted friends went about from the door of one Englishman to that of another, bending their turbaned heads as before. By an irony of fate, poor Nabendu Sekhar married the second daughter of this house. His sisters-in-law were well educated and handsome. Nabendu considered he had made a lucky bargain. But he lost no time in trying to impress on the family that it was a rare bargain on their side also. As if by mistake, he would often hand to his sisters-in-law sundry letters that his late father had received from Europeans. And when the cherry lips of those young ladies smiled sarcastically, and the point of a shining dagger peeped out of its sheath of red velvet, the unfortunate man saw his folly, and regretted it. Labanyalekha, the eldest sister, surpassed the rest in beauty and cleverness. Finding an auspicious day, she put on the mantel-shelf of Nabendu's bedroom two pairs of English boots, daubed with vermilion, and arranged flowers, sandal-paste, incense and a couple of burning candles before them in true ceremonial fashion. When Nabendu came in, the two sisters-in-law stood on either side of him, and said with mock solemnity: "Bow down to your gods, and may you prosper through their blessings." The third sister Kiranlekha spent many days in embroidering with red silk one hundred common English names such as Jones, Smith, Brown, Thomson, etc., on a chadar. When it was ready, she presented this namavoli (A namavoli is a sheet of cloth printed all over with the names of Hindu gods and goddesses and worn by pious Hindus when engaged in devotional exercises.) to Nabendu Sekhar with great ceremony. The fourth, Sasankalekha, of tender age and therefore of no account, said: "I will make you a string of beads, brother, with which to tell the names of your gods-the sahibs." Her sisters reproved her, saying: "Run away, you saucy girl." Feelings of shame and irritation assailed by turns the mind of Nabendu Sekhar. Still he could not forego the company of his sisters-in-law, especially as the eldest one was beautiful. Her honey was no less than her gall, and Nabendu's mind tasted at once the sweetness of the one and the bitterness of the other. The butterfly, with its bruised wings, buzzes round the flower in blind fury, unable to depart. The society of his sisters-in-Law so much infatuated him that at last Nabendu began to disavow his craving for European favours. When he went to salaam the Burra Sahib, he used to pretend that he was going to listen to a speech by Mr. Surendranath Banerjea. When he went to the railway station to pay respects to the Chota Sahib, returning from Darjeeling, he would tell his sisters-in-law that he expected his youngest uncle. It was a sore trial to the unhappy man placed between the cross-fires of his Sahibs and his sisters-in-law. The sisters-in-law, however, secretly vowed that they would not rest till the Sahibs had been put to rout. About this time it was rumoured that Nabendu's name would be included in the forthcoming list of Birthday honours, and that he would mount the first step of the ladder to Paradise by becoming a Rai Bahadur. The poor fellow had not the courage to break the joyful news to his sisters-in-law. One evening, however, when the autumn moon was flooding the earth with its mischievous beams, Nabendu's heart was so full that he could not contain himself any longer, and he told his wife. The next day, Mrs. Nabendu betook herself to her eldest sister's house in a palanquin, and in a voice choked with tears bewailed her lot. "He isn't going to grow a tail," said Labanya, "by becoming a Rai Bahadur, is he? Why should you feel so very humiliated?" "Oh, no, sister dear," replied Arunlekha, "I am prepared to be anything--but not a Rai-Baha-durni." The fact was that in her circle of acquaintances there was one Bhutnath Babu, who was a Rai Bahadur, and that explained her intense aversion to that title. Labanya said to her sister in soothing tones: "Don't be upset about it, dear; I will see what I can do to prevent it." Babu Nilratan, the husband of Labanya, was a pleader at Buxar. When the autumn was over, Nabendu received an invitation from Labanya to pay them a visit, and he started for Buxar greatly pleased. The early winter of the western province endowed Labanyalekha with new health and beauty, and brought a glowing colour to her pale cheeks, She looked like the flower-laden kasa reeds on a clear autumn day, growing by the lonely bank of a rivulet. To Nabendu's enchanted eyes she appeared like a malati plant in full blossom, showering dew-drops brilliant with the morning light. Nabendu had never felt better in his life. The exhilaration of his own health and the genial company of his pretty sister-in-law made him think himself light enough to tread on air. The Ganges in front of the garden seemed to him to be flowing ceaselessly to regions unknown, as though it gave shape to his own wild fantasies. As he returned in the early morning from his walk on the bank of the river, the mellow rays of the winter sun gave his whole frame that pleasing sensation of warmth which lovers feel in each other's arms. Coming home, he would now and then find his sister-in-Law amusing herself by cooking some dishes. He would offer his help, and display his want of skill and ignorance at every step. But Nabendu did not appear to be at all anxious to improve himself by practice and attention. On the contrary he thoroughly enjoyed the rebukes he received from his sister-in-law. He was at great pains to prove every day that he was inefficient and helpless as a new-born babe in mixing spices, handling the saucepan, and regulating the heat so as to prevent things getting burnt-and he was duly rewarded with pitiful smiles and scoldings. In the middle of the day he ate a great deal of the good food set before him, incited by his keen appetite and the coaxing of his sister-in-law. Later on, he would sit down to a game of cards--at which he betrayed the same lack of ability. He would cheat, pry into his adversary's hand, quarrel--but never did he win a single rubber, and worse still, he would not acknowledge defeat. This brought him abuse every day, and still he remained incorrigible. There was, however, one matter in which his reform was complete. For the time at least, he had forgotten that to win the smiles of Sahibs was the final goal of life. He was beginning to understand how happy and worthy we might feel by winning the affection and esteem of those near and dear to us. Besides, Nabendu was now moving in a new atmosphere. Labanya's husband, Babu Nilratan, a leader of the bar, was reproached by many because he refused to pay his respects to European officials. To all such reproaches Nilratan would reply: "No, thank you,--if they are not polite enough to return my call, then the politeness I offer them is a loss that can never be made up for. The sands of the desert may be very white and shiny, but I would much rather sow my seeds in black soil, where I can expect a return." And Nabendu began to adopt similar ideas, all regardless of the future. His chance of Rai Bahadurship throve on the soil carefully prepared by his late father and also by himself in days gone by, nor was any fresh watering required. Had he not at great expense laid out a splendid race-course in a town, which was a fashionable resort of Europeans? When the time of Congress drew near, Nilratan received a request from head-quarters to collect subscriptions. Nabendu, free from anxiety, was merrily engaged in a game of cards with his sister-in-law, when Nilratan Babu came upon him with a subscription-book in his hand, and said: "Your signature, please." From old habit Nabendu looked horrified. Labanya, assuming an air of great concern and anxiety, said: "Never do that. It would ruin your racecourse beyond repair." Nabendu blurted out: "Do you suppose I pass sleepless nights through fear of that?" "We won't publish your name in the papers," said Nilratan reassuringly. Labanya, looking grave and anxious, said: "Still, it wouldn't be safe. Things spread so, from mouth to mouth--" Nabendu replied with vehemence: "My name wouldn't suffer by appearing in the newspapers." So saying, he snatched the subscription list from Nilratan's hand, and signed away a thousand rupees. Secretly he hoped that the papers would not publish the news. Labanya struck her forehead with her palm and gasped out: "What--have you--done?" "Nothing wrong," said Nabendu boastfully. "But--but--," drawled Labanya, "the Guard sahib of Sealdah Station, the shop-assistant at Whiteaway's, the syce-sahib of Hart Bros.--these gentlemen might be angry with you, and decline to come to your Poojah dinner to drink your champagne, you know. Just think, they mightn't pat you on the back, when you meet them again!" "It wouldn't break my heart," Nabendu snapped out. A few days passed. One morning Nabendu was sipping his tea, and glancing at a newspaper. Suddenly a letter signed "X" caught his eye. The writer thanked him profusely for his donation, and declared that the increase of strength the Congress had acquired by having such a man within its fold, was inestimable. Alas, father Purnendu Sekhar! Was it to increase the strength of the Congress, that you brought this wretch into the world? Put the cloud of misfortune had its silver lining. That he was not a mere cypher was clear from the fact that the Anglo-Indian community on the one side and the Congress on the other were each waiting patiently, eager to hook him, and land him on their own side. So Nabendu, beaming with pleasure took the paper to his sister-in-law, and showed her the letter. Looking as though she knew nothing about it, Labanya exclaimed in surprise: "Oh, what a pity! Everything has come out! Who bore you such ill-will? Oh, how cruel of him, how wicked of him!" Nabendu laughed out, saying: "Now--now--don't call him names, Labanya. I forgive him with all my heart, and bless him too." A couple of days after this, an anti-Congress Anglo-Indian paper reached Nabendu through the post. There was a letter in it, signed "One who knows," and contradicting the above report. "Those who have the pleasure of Babu Nabendu Sekhar's personal acquaintance," the writer went on, "cannot for a moment believe this absurd libel to be true. For him to turn a Congresswalla is as impossible as it is for the leopard to change his spots. He is a man of genuine worth, and neither a disappointed candidate for Government employ nor a briefless barrister. He is not one of those who, after a brief sojourn in England, return aping our dress and manners, audaciously try to thrust themselves on Anglo-Indian society, and finally go back in dejection. So there is absolutely no reason why Balm Nabendu Sekhar," etc., etc. Ah, father Purnendu Sekhar! What a reputation you had made with the Europeans before you died! This letter also was paraded before his sister-in-law, for did it not assert that he was no mean, contemptible scallywag, but a man of real worth? Labanya exclaimed again in feigned surprise: "Which of your friends wrote it now? Oh, come--is it the Ticket Collector, or the hide merchant, or is it the drum-major of the Fort?" "You ought to send in a contradiction, I think," said Nilratan. "Is it necessary?" said Nabendu loftily. "Must I contradict every little thing they choose to say against me?" Labanya filled the room with a deluge of laughter. Nabendu felt a little disconcerted at this, and said: "Why? What's the matter?" She went on laughing, unable to check herself, and her youthful slender form waved to and fro. This torrent of merriment had the effect of overthrowing Nabendu completely, and he said in pitiable accents: "Do you imagine that I am afraid to contradict it?" "Oh, dear, no," said Labanya; "I was thinking that you haven't yet ceased trying to save that race-course of yours, so full of promise. While there is life, there is hope, you know." "That's what I am afraid of, you think, do you? Very well, you shall see," said Nabendu desperately, and forthwith sat down to write his contradiction. When he had finished, Labanya and Nilratan read it through, and said: "It isn't strong enough. We must give it them pretty hot, mustn't we?" And they kindly undertook to revise the composition. Thus it ran: "When one connected to us by ties of blood turns our enemy he becomes far more dangerous than any outsider. To the Government of India, the haughty Anglo-Indians are worse enemies than the Russians or the frontier Pathans themselves--they are the impenetrable barrier, forever hindering the growth of any bond of friendship between the Government and people of the country. It is the Congress which has opened up the royal road to a better understanding between the rulers and the ruled, and the Anglo-Indian papers have planted themselves like thorns across the whole breadth of that road," etc., etc. Nabendu had an inward fear as to the mischief this letter might do, but at the same time he felt elated at the excellence of its composition, which he fondly imagined to be his own. It was duly published, and for some days comments, replies, and rejoinders went on in various newspapers, and the air was full of trumpet-notes, proclaiming the fact that Nabendu had joined the Congress, and the amount of his subscription. Nabendu, now grown desperate, talked as though he was a patriot of the fiercest type. Labanya laughed inwardly, and said to herself: "Well---well--you have to pass through the ordeal of fire yet." One morning when Nabendu, before his bath, had finished rubbing oil over his chest, and was trying various devices to reach the inaccessible portions of his back, the bearer brought in a card inscribed with the name of the District Magistrate himself! Good heavens!--What would he do? He could not possibly go, and receive the Magistrate Sahib, thus oil-besmeared. He shook and twitched like a koi-fish, ready dressed for the frying pan. He finished his bath in a great hurry, tugged on his clothes somehow, and ran breathlessly to the outer apartments. The bearer said that the Sahib had just left after waiting for a long time. How much of the blame for concocting this drama of invented incidents may be set down to Labanya, and how much to the bearer is a nice problem for ethical mathematics to solve. Nabendu's heart was convulsed with pain within his breast, like the tail of a lizard just cut off. He moped like an owl all day long. Labanya banished all traces of inward merriment from her face, and kept on enquiring in anxious tones: "What has happened to you? You are not ill, I hope?" Nabendu made great efforts to smile, and find a humorous reply. "How can there be," he managed to say, "any illness within your jurisdiction, since you yourself are the Goddess of Health?" But the smile soon flickered out. His thoughts were: "I subscribed to the Congress fund to begin with, published a nasty letter in a newspaper, and on the top of that, when the Magistrate Sahib himself did me the honour to call on me, I kept him waiting. I wonder what he is thinking of me." Alas, father Purnendu Sekhar, by an irony of Fate I am made to appear what I am not. The next morning, Nabendu decked himself in his best clothes, wore his watch and chain, and put a big turban on his head. "Where are you off to?" enquired his sister-in-law. "Urgent business," Nabendu replied. Labanya kept quiet. Arriving at the Magistrate's gate, he took out his card-case. "You cannot see him now," said the orderly peon icily. Nabendu took out a couple of rupees from his pocket. The peon at once salaamed him and said: "There are five of us, sir." Immediately Nabendu pulled out a ten-rupee note, and handed it to him. He was sent for by the Magistrate, who was writing in his dressing-gown and bedroom slippers. Nabendu salaamed him. The Magistrate pointed to a chair with his finger, and without raising his eyes from the paper before him said: "What can I do for you, Babu?" Fingering his watch-chain nervously, Nabendu said is shaky tones: "Yesterday you were good enough to call at my place, sir--" The Sahib knitted his brows, and, lifting just one eye from his paper, said: "I called at your place! Babu, what nonsense are you talking?" "Beg your pardon, sir," faltered out Nabendu. "There has been a mistake--some confusion," and wet with perspiration, he tumbled out of the room somehow. And that night, as he lay tossing on his bed, a distant dream-like voice came into his ear with a recurring persistency: "Babu, you are a howling idiot." On his way home, Nabendu came to the conclusion that the Magistrate denied having called, simply because he was highly offended. So he explained to Labanya that he had been out purchasing rose-water. No sooner had he uttered the words than half-a-dozen chuprassis wearing the Collectorate badge made their appearance, and after salaaming Nabendu, stood there grinning. "Have they come to arrest you because you subscribed to the Congress fund?" whispered Labanya with a smile. The six peons displayed a dozen rows of teeth and said: "Bakshish--Babu-Sahib." From a side room Nilratan came out, and said in an irritated manner: "Bakshish? What for?" The peons, grinning as before, answered: "The Babu-Sahib went to see the Magistrate--so we have come for bakshish." "I didn't know," laughed out Labanya, "that the Magistrate was selling rose-water nowadays. Coolness wasn't the special feature of his trade before." Nabendu in trying to reconcile the story of his purchase with his visit to the Magistrate, uttered some incoherent words, which nobody could make sense of. Nilratan spoke to the peons: "There has been no occasion for bakshish; you shan't have it." Nabendu said, feeling very small: "Oh, they are poor men--what's the harm of giving them something?" And he took out a currency note. Nilratan snatched it way from Nabendu's hand, remarking: "There are poorer men in the world--I will give it to them for you." Nabendu felt greatly distressed that he was not able to appease these ghostly retainers of the angry Siva. When the peons were leaving, with thunder in their eyes, he looked at them languishingly, as much as to say: "You know everything, gentlemen, it is not my fault." The Congress was to be held at Calcutta this year. Nilratan went down thither with his wife to attend the sittings. Nabendu accompanied them. As soon as they arrived at Calcutta, the Congress party surrounded Nabendu, and their delight and enthusiasm knew no bounds. They cheered him, honoured him, and extolled him up to the skies. Everybody said that, unless leading men like Nabendu devoted themselves to the Cause, there was no hope for the country. Nabendu was disposed to agree with them, and emerged out of the chaos of mistake and confusion as a leader of the country. When he entered the Congress Pavilion on the first day, everybody stood up, and shouted "Hip, hip, hurrah," in a loud outlandish voice, hearing which our Motherland reddened with shame to the root of her ears. In due time the Queen's birthday came, and Nabendu's name was not found in the list of Rai Bahadurs. He received an invitation from Labanya for that evening. When he arrived there, Labanya with great pomp and ceremony presented him with a robe of honour, and with her own hand put a mark of red sandal paste on the middle of his forehead. Each of the other sisters threw round his neck a garland of flowers woven by herself. Decked in a pink Sari and dazzling jewels, his wife Arunlekha was waiting in a side room, her face lit up with smiles and blushes. Her sisters rushed to her, and, placing another garland in her hand, insisted that she also should come, and do her part in the ceremony, but she would not listen to it; and that principal garland, cherishing a desire for Nabendu's neck, waited patiently for the still secrecy of midnight. The sisters said to Nabendu: "To-day we crown thee King. Such honour will not be done to any body else in Hindoostan." Whether Nabendu derived any consolation from this, he alone can tell; but we greatly doubt it. We believe, in fact, that he will become a Rai Bahadur before he has done, and the Englishman and the Pioneer will write heart-rending articles lamenting his demise at the proper time. So, in the meanwhile, Three Cheers for Babu Purnendu Sekhar! Hip, hip, hurrah--Hip, hip, hurrah--Hip, hip, hurrah. THE RENUNCIATION I It was a night of full moon early in the month of Phalgun. The youthful spring was everywhere sending forth its breeze laden with the fragrance of mango-blossoms. The melodious notes of an untiring papiya (One of the sweetest songsters in Bengal. Anglo-Indian writers have nicknamed it the "brain-fever bird," which is a sheer libel.), concealed within the thick foliage of an old lichi tree by the side of a tank, penetrated a sleepless bedroom of the Mukerji family. There Hemanta now restlessly twisted a lock of his wife's hair round his finger, now beat her churl against her wristlet until it tinkled, now pulled at the chaplet of flowers about her head, and left it hanging over hex face. His mood was that of as evening breeze which played about a favourite flowering shrub, gently shaking her now this side, now that, in the hope of rousing her to animation. But Kusum sat motionless, looking out of the open window, with eyes immersed in the moonlit depth of never-ending space beyond. Her husband's caresses were lost on her. At last Hemanta clasped both the hands of his wife, and, shaking them gently, said: "Kusum, where are you? A patient search through a big telescope would reveal you only as a small speck-you seem to have receded so far away. O, do come closer to me, dear. See how beautiful the night is." Kusum turned her eyes from the void of space towards her husband, and said slowly: "I know a mantra (A set of magic words.), which could in one moment shatter this spring night and the moon into pieces." "If you do," laughed Hemanta, "pray don't utter it. If any mantra of yours could bring three or four Saturdays during the week, and prolong the nights till 5 P.M. the next day, say it by all means." Saying this, he tried to draw his wife a little closer to him. Kusum, freeing herself from the embrace, said: "Do you know, to-night I feel a longing to tell you what I promised to reveal only on my death-bed. To-night I feel that I could endure whatever punishment you might inflict on me." Hemanta was on the point of making a jest about punishments by reciting a verse from Jayadeva, when the sound of an angry pair of slippers was heard approaching rapidly. They were the familiar footsteps of his father, Haribar Mukerji, and Hemanta, not knowing what it meant, was in a flutter of excitement. Standing outside the door Harihar roared out: "Hemanta, turn your wife out of the house immediately." Hemanta looked at his wife, and detected no trace of surprise in her features. She merely buried her face within the palms of her hands, and, with all the strength and intensity of her soul, wished that she could then and there melt into nothingness. It was the same papiya whose song floated into the room with the south breeze, and no one heard it. Endless are the beauties of the earth-but alas, how easily everything is twisted out of shape. II Returning from without, Hemanta asked his wife: "Is it true?" "It is," replied Kusum. "Why didn't you tell me long ago?" "I did try many a time, and I always failed. I am a wretched woman." "Then tell me everything now." Kusum gravely told her story in a firm unshaken voice. She waded barefooted through fire, as it were, with slow unflinching steps, and nobody knew how much she was scorched. Having heard her to the end, Hemanta rose and walked out. Kusum thought that her husband had gone, never to return to her again. It did not strike her as strange. She took it as naturally as any other incident of everyday life-so dry and apathetic had her mind become during the last few moments. Only the world and love seemed to her as a void and make-believe from beginning to end. Even the memory of the protestations of love, which her husband had made to her in days past, brought to her lips a dry, hard, joyless smile, like a sharp cruel knife which had cut through her heart. She was thinking, perhaps, that the love which seemed to fill so much of one's life, which brought in its train such fondness and depth of feeling, which made even the briefest separation so exquisitely painful and a moment's union so intensely sweet, which seemed boundless in its extent and eternal in its duration, the cessation of which could not be imagined even in births to come--that this was that love! So feeble was its support! No sooner does the priesthood touch it than your "eternal" love crumbles into a handful of dust! Only a short while ago Hemanta had whispered to her: "What a beautiful night!" The same night was not yet at an end, the same yapiya was still warbling, the same south breeze still blew into the roam, making the bed-curtain shiver; the same moonlight lay on the bed next the open window, sleeping like a beautiful heroine exhausted with gaiety. All this was unreal! Love was more falsely dissembling than she herself! III The next morning Hemanta, fagged after a sleepless night, and looking like one distracted, called at the house of Peari Sankar Ghosal. "What news, my son?" Peari Sankar greeted him. Hemanta, flaring up like a big fire, said in a trembling voice: "You have defiled our caste. You have brought destruction upon us. And you will have to pay for it." He could say no more; he felt choked. "And you have preserved my caste, presented my ostracism from the community, and patted me on the back affectionately!" said Peari Sankar with a slight sarcastic smile. Hemanta wished that his Brahmin-fury could reduce Peari Sankar to ashes in a moment, but his rage burnt only himself. Peari Sankar sat before him unscathed, and in the best of health. "Did I ever do you any harm?" demanded Hemanta in a broken voice. "Let me ask you one question," said Peari Sankar. "My daughter--my only child-what harm had she done your father? You were very young then, and probably never heard. Listen, then. Now, don't you excite yourself. There is much humour in what I am going to relate. "You were quite small when my son-in-law Nabakanta ran away to England after stealing my daughter's jewels. You might truly remember the commotion in the village when he returned as a barrister five years later. Or, perhaps, you were unaware of it, as you were at school in Calcutta at the time. Your father, arrogating to himself the headship of the community, declared that if I sent my daughter to her husband's home, I must renounce her for good, and never again allow her to cross my threshold. I fell at your father's feet, and implored him, saying: 'Brother, save me this once. I will make the boy swallow cow-dung, and go through the prayaschittam ceremony. Do take him back into caste.' But your father remained obdurate. For my part, I could not disown my only child, and, bidding good-bye to my village and my kinsmen, I betook myself to Calcutta. There, too, my troubles followed me. When I had made every arrangement for my nephew's marriage, your father stirred up the girl's people, and they broke the match off. Then I took a solemn vow that, if there was a drop of Brahmin blood flowing in my veins, I would avenge myself. You understand the business to some extent now, don't you? But wait a little longer. You will enjoy it, when I tell you the whole story; it is interesting. "When you were attending college, one Bipradas Chatterji used to live next door to your lodgings. The poor fellow is dead now. In his house lived a child-widow called Kusum, the destitute orphan of a Kayestha gentleman. The girl was very pretty, and the old Brahmin desired to shield her from the hungry gaze of college students. But for a young girl to throw dust in the eyes of her old guardian was not at all a difficult task. She often went to the top of the roof, to hang her washing out to dry, and, I believe, you found your own roof best suited for your studies. Whether you two spoke to each other, when on your respective roofs, I cannot tell, but the girl's behaviour excited suspicion in the old man's mind. She made frequent mistakes in her household duties, and, like Parbati (The wife of Shiva the Destroyer), engaged in her devotions, began gradually to renounce food and sleep. Some evenings she would burst into tears in the presence of the old gentleman, without any apparent reason. "At last he discovered that you two saw each other from the roofs pretty frequently, and that you even went the length of absenting yourself from college to sit on the roof at mid-day with a book in your hand, so fond had you grown suddenly of solitary study. Bipradas came to me for advice, and told me everything. 'Uncle,' said I to him, 'for a long while you have cherished a desire to go on a pilgrimage to Benares. You had better do it now, and leave the girl in my charge. I will take care of her.' "So he went. I lodged the girl in the house of Sripati Chatterji, passing him off as her father. What happened next is known to you. I feel a great relief to-day, having told you everything from the beginning. It sounds like a romance, doesn't it? I think of turning it into a book, and getting it printed. But I am not a writing-man myself. They say my nephew has some aptitude that way--I will get him to write it for me. But the best thing would be, if you would collaborate with him, because the conclusion of the story is not known to me so well." Without paying much attention to the concluding remarks of Peari Sankar, Hemanta asked: "Did not Kusum object to this marriage?" "Well," said Peari Sankar, "it is very difficult to guess. You know, my boy, how women's minds are constituted. When they say 'no,' they mean 'yes.' During the first few days after her removal to the new home, she went almost crazy at not seeing you. You, too, seemed to have discovered her new address somehow, as you used to lose your way after starting for college, and loiter about in front of Sripati's house. Your eyes did not appear to be exactly in search of the Presidency College, as they were directed towards the barred windows of a private house, through which nothing but insects and the hearts of moon-struck young men could obtain access. I felt very sorry for you both. I could see that your studies were being seriously interrupted, and that the plight of the girl was pitiable also. "One day I called Kusum to me, and said: 'Listen to me, my daughter. I am an old man, and you need feel no delicacy in my presence. I know whom you desire at heart. The young man's condition is hopeless too. I wish I could bring about your union.' At this Kusum suddenly melted into tears, and ran away. On several evenings after that, I visited Sripati's house, and, calling Kusum to me, discussed with her matters relating to you, and so I succeeded in gradually overcoming her shyness. At last, when I said that I would try to bring about a marriage, she asked me: 'How can it be?' 'Never mind,' I said, 'I would pass you off as a Brahmin maiden.' After a good deal of argument, she begged me to find out whether you would approve of it. 'What nonsense,' replied I, 'the boy is well-nigh mad as it were, what's the use of disclosing all these complications to him? Let the ceremony be over smoothly and then--all's well that ends well. Especially, as there is not the slightest risk of its ever leaking out, why go out of the way to make a fellow miserable for life?' "I do not know whether the plan had Kusum's assent or not. At times she wept, and at other times she remained silent. If I said, 'Let us drop it then,' she would become very restless. When things were in this state, I sent Sripati to you with the proposal of marriage; you consented without a moment's hesitation. Everything was settled. "Shortly before the day fixed, Kusum became so obstinate that I had the greatest difficulty in bringing her round again. 'Do let it drop, uncle,' she said to me constantly. 'What do you mean, you silly child,' I rebuked her,' how can we back out now, when everything has been settled?' "'Spread a rumour that I am dead,' she implored. 'Send me away somewhere.' "'What would happen to the young man then?' said I.' He is now in the seventh heaven of delight, expecting that his long cherished desire would be fulfilled to-morrow; and to-day you want me to send him the news of your death. The result would be that to-morrow I should have to bear the news of his death to you, and the same evening your death would be reported to me. Do you imagine, child, that I am capable of committing a girl-murder and a Brahmin-murder at my age?' "Eventually the happy marriage was celebrated at the auspicious moment, and I felt relieved of a burdensome duty which I owed to myself. What happened afterwards you know best." "Couldn't you stop after having done us an irreparable injury?" burst out Hemanta after a short silence. "Why have you told the secret now?" With the utmost composure, Peari Sankar replied: "When I saw that all arrangements had been made for the wedding of your sister, I said to myself: 'Well, I have fouled the caste of one Brahmin, but that was only from a sense of duty. Here, another Brahmin's caste is imperilled, and this time it is my plain duty to prevent it.' So I wrote to them saying that I was in a position to prove that you had taken the daughter of a sudra to wife." Controlling himself with a gigantic effort, Hemanta said: "What will become of this girl whom I shall abandon now? Would you give her food and shelter?" "I have done what was mine to do," replied Peari Sankar calmly. "It is no part of my duty to look after the discarded wives of other people. Anybody there? Get a glass of cocoanut milk for Hemanta Babu with ice in it. And some pan too." Hemanta rose, and took his departure without waiting for this luxurious hospitality. IV It was the fifth night of the waning of the moon--and the night was dark. No birds were singing. The lichi tree by the tank looked like a smudge of ink on a background a shade less deep. The south wind was blindly roaming about in the darkness like a sleep-walker. The stars in the sky with vigilant unblinking eyes were trying to penetrate the darkness, in their effort to fathom some profound mystery. No light shone in the bedroom. Hemanta was sitting on the side of the bed next the open window, gazing at the darkness in front of him. Kusum lay on the floor, clasping her husband's feet with both her arms, and her face resting on them. Time stood like an ocean hushed into stillness. On the background of eternal night, Fate seemed to have painted this one single picture for all time--annihilation on every side, the judge in the centre of it, and the guilty one at his feet. The sound of slippers was heard again. Approaching the door, Harihar Mukerji said: "You have had enough time,--I can't allow you more. Turn the girl out of the house." Kusum, as she heard this, embraced her husband's feet with all the ardour of a lifetime, covered them with kisses, and touching her forehead to them reverentially, withdrew herself. Hemanta rose, and walking to the door, said: "Father, I won't forsake my wife." "What!" roared out Harihar, "would you lose your caste, sir?" "I don't care for caste," was Hemanta's calm reply. "Then you too I renounce." THE CABULIWALLAH (THE FRUITSELLER FROM CABUL) My five years' old daughter Mini cannot live without chattering. I really believe that in all her life she has not wasted a minute in silence. Her mother is often vexed at this, and would stop her prattle, but I would not. To see Mini quiet is unnatural, and I cannot bear it long. And so my own talk with her is always lively. One morning, for instance, when I was in the midst of the seventeenth chapter of my new novel, my little Mini stole into the room, and putting her hand into mine, said: "Father! Ramdayal the door-keeper calls a crow a krow! He doesn't know anything, does he?" Before I could explain to her the differences of language in this world, she was embarked on the full tide of another subject. "What do you think, Father? Bhola says there is an elephant in the clouds, blowing water out of his trunk, and that is why it rains!" And then, darting off anew, while I sat still making ready some reply to this last saying, "Father! what relation is Mother to you?" "My dear little sister in the law!" I murmured involuntarily to myself, but with a grave face contrived to answer: "Go and play with Bhola, Mini! I am busy!" The window of my room overlooks the road. The child had seated herself at my feet near my table, and was playing softly, drumming on her knees. I was hard at work on my seventeenth chapter, where Protrap Singh, the hero, had just caught Kanchanlata, the heroine, in his arms, and was about to escape with her by the third story window of the castle, when all of a sudden Mini left her play, and ran to the window, crying, "A Cabuliwallah! a Cabuliwallah!" Sure enough in the street below was a Cabuliwallah, passing slowly along. He wore the loose soiled clothing of his people, with a tall turban; there was a bag on his back, and he carried boxes of grapes in his hand. I cannot tell what were my daughter's feelings at the sight of this man, but she began to call him loudly. "Ah!" I thought, "he will come in, and my seventeenth chapter will never be finished!" At which exact moment the Cabuliwallah turned, and looked up at the child. When she saw this, overcome by terror, she fled to her mother's protection, and disappeared. She had a blind belief that inside the bag, which the big man carried, there were perhaps two or three other children like herself. The pedlar meanwhile entered my doorway, and greeted me with a smiling face. So precarious was the position of my hero and my heroine, that my first impulse was to stop and buy something, since the man had been called. I made some small purchases, and a conversation began about Abdurrahman, the Russians, she English, and the Frontier Policy. As he was about to leave, he asked: "And where is the little girl, sir?" And I, thinking that Mini must get rid of her false fear, had her brought out. She stood by my chair, and looked at the Cabuliwallah and his bag. He offered her nuts and raisins, but she would not be tempted, and only clung the closer to me, with all her doubts increased. This was their first meeting. One morning, however, not many days later, as I was leaving the house, I was startled to find Mini, seated on a bench near the door, laughing and talking, with the great Cabuliwallah at her feet. In all her life, it appeared; my small daughter had never found so patient a listener, save her father. And already the corner of her little sari was stuffed with almonds and raisins, the gift of her visitor, "Why did you give her those?" I said, and taking out an eight-anna bit, I handed it to him. The man accepted the money without demur, and slipped it into his pocket. Alas, on my return an hour later, I found the unfortunate coin had made twice its own worth of trouble! For the Cabuliwallah had given it to Mini, and her mother catching sight of the bright round object, had pounced on the child with: "Where did you get that eight-anna bit?" "The Cabuliwallah gave it me," said Mini cheerfully. "The Cabuliwallah gave it you!" cried her mother much shocked. "Oh, Mini! how could you take it from him?" I, entering at the moment, saved her from impending disaster, and proceeded to make my own inquiries. It was not the first or second time, I found, that the two had met. The Cabuliwallah had overcome the child's first terror by a judicious bribery of nuts and almonds, and the two were now great friends. They had many quaint jokes, which afforded them much amusement. Seated in front of him, looking down on his gigantic frame in all her tiny dignity, Mini would ripple her face with laughter, and begin: "O Cabuliwallah, Cabuliwallah, what have you got in your bag?" And he would reply, in the nasal accents of the mountaineer: "An elephant!" Not much cause for merriment, perhaps; but how they both enjoyed the witticism! And for me, this child's talk with a grown-up man had always in it something strangely fascinating. Then the Cabuliwallah, not to be behindhand, would take his turn: "Well, little one, and when are you going to the father-in-law's house?" Now most small Bengali maidens have heard long ago about the father-in-law's house; but we, being a little new-fangled, had kept these things from our child, and Mini at this question must have been a trifle bewildered. But she would not show it, and with ready tact replied: "Are you going there?" Amongst men of the Cabuliwallah's class, however, it is well known that the words father-in-law's house have a double meaning. It is a euphemism for jail, the place where we are well cared for, at no expense to ourselves. In this sense would the sturdy pedlar take my daughter's question. "Ah," he would say, shaking his fist at an invisible policeman, "I will thrash my father-in-law!" Hearing this, and picturing the poor discomfited relative, Mini would go off into peals of laughter, in which her formidable friend would join. These were autumn mornings, the very time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world. At the very name of another country, my heart would go out to it, and at the sight of a foreigner in the streets, I would fall to weaving a network of dreams,--the mountains, the glens, and the forests of his distant home, with his cottage in its setting, and the free and independent life of far-away wilds. Perhaps the scenes of travel conjure themselves up before me, and pass and repass in my imagination all the more vividly, because I lead such a vegetable existence, that a call to travel would fall upon me like a thunderbolt. In the presence of this Cabuliwallah, I was immediately transported to the foot of arid mountain peaks, with narrow little defiles twisting in and out amongst their towering heights. I could see the string of camels bearing the merchandise, and the company of turbaned merchants, carrying some of their queer old firearms, and some of their spears, journeying downward towards the plains. I could see--but at some such point Mini's mother would intervene, imploring me to "beware of that man." Mini's mother is unfortunately a very timid lady. Whenever she hears a noise in the street, or sees people coming towards the house, she always jumps to the conclusion that they are either thieves, or drunkards, or snakes, or tigers, or malaria or cockroaches, or caterpillars, or an English sailor. Even after all these years of experience, she is not able to overcome her terror. So she was full of doubts about the Cabuliwallah, and used to beg me to keep a watchful eye on him. I tried to laugh her fear gently away, but then she would turn round on me seriously, and ask me solemn questions. Were children never kidnapped? Was it, then, not true that there was slavery in Cabul? Was it so very absurd that this big man should be able to carry off a tiny child? I urged that, though not impossible, it was highly improbable. But this was not enough, and her dread persisted. As it was indefinite, however, it did not seem right to forbid the man the house, and the intimacy went on unchecked. Once a year in the middle of January Rahmun, the Cabuliwallah, was in the habit of returning to his country, and as the time approached he would be very busy, going from house to house collecting his debts. This year, however, he could always find time to come and see Mini. It would have seemed to an outsider that there was some conspiracy between the two, for when he could not come in the morning, he would appear in the evening. Even to me it was a little startling now and then, in the corner of a dark room, suddenly to surprise this tall, loose-garmented, much bebagged man; but when Mini would run in smiling, with her, "O! Cabuliwallah! Cabuliwallah!" and the two friends, so far apart in age, would subside into their old laughter and their old jokes, I felt reassured. One morning, a few days before he had made up his mind to go, I was correcting my proof sheets in my study. It was chilly weather. Through the window the rays of the sun touched my feet, and the slight warmth was very welcome. It was almost eight o'clock, and the early pedestrians were returning home, with their heads covered. All at once, I heard an uproar in the street, and, looking out, saw Rahmun being led away bound between two policemen, and behind them a crowd of curious boys. There were blood-stains on the clothes of the Cabuliwallah, and one of the policemen carried a knife. Hurrying out, I stopped them, and enquired what it all meant. Partly from one, partly from another, I gathered that a certain neighbour had owed the pedlar something for a Rampuri shawl, but had falsely denied having bought it, and that in the course of the quarrel, Rahmun had struck him. Now in the heat of his excitement, the prisoner began calling his enemy all sorts of names, when suddenly in a verandah of my house appeared my little Mini, with her usual exclamation: "O Cabuliwallah! Cabuliwallah!" Rahmun's face lighted up as he turned to her. He had no bag under his arm today, so she could not discuss the elephant with him. She at once therefore proceeded to the next question: "Are you going to the father-in-law's house?" Rahmun laughed and said: "Just where I am going, little one!" Then seeing that the reply did not amuse the child, he held up his fettered hands. "Ali," he said, "I would have thrashed that old father-in-law, but my hands are bound!" On a charge of murderous assault, Rahmun was sentenced to some years' imprisonment. Time passed away, and he was not remembered. The accustomed work in the accustomed place was ours, and the thought of the once-free mountaineer spending his years in prison seldom or never occurred to us. Even my light-hearted Mini, I am ashamed to say, forgot her old friend. New companions filled her life. As she grew older, she spent more of her time with girls. So much time indeed did she spend with them that she came no more, as she used to do, to her father's room. I was scarcely on speaking terms with her. Years had passed away. It was once more autumn and we had made arrangements for our Mini's marriage. It was to take place during the Puja Holidays. With Durga returning to Kailas, the light of our home also was to depart to her husband's house, and leave her father's in the shadow. The morning was bright. After the rains, there was a sense of ablution in the air, and the sun-rays looked like pure gold. So bright were they that they gave a beautiful radiance even to the sordid brick walls of our Calcutta lanes. Since early dawn to-day the wedding-pipes had been sounding, and at each beat my own heart throbbed. The wail of the tune, Bhairavi, seemed to intensify my pain at the approaching separation. My Mini was to be married to-night. From early morning noise and bustle had pervaded the house. In the courtyard the canopy had to be slung on its bamboo poles; the chandeliers with their tinkling sound must be hung in each room and verandah. There was no end of hurry and excitement. I was sitting in my study, looking through the accounts, when some one entered, saluting respectfully, and stood before me. It was Rahmun the Cabuliwallah. At first I did not recognise him. He had no bag, nor the long hair, nor the same vigour that he used to have. But he smiled, and I knew him again. "When did you come, Rahmun?" I asked him. "Last evening," he said, "I was released from jail." The words struck harsh upon my ears. I had never before talked with one who had wounded his fellow, and my heart shrank within itself, when I realised this, for I felt that the day would have been better-omened had he not turned up. "There are ceremonies going on," I said, "and I am busy. Could you perhaps come another day?" At once he turned to go; but as he reached the door he hesitated, and said: "May I not see the little one, sir, for a moment?" It was his belief that Mini was still the same. He had pictured her running to him as she used, calling "O Cabuliwallah! Cabuliwallah!" He had imagined too that they would laugh and talk together, just as of old. In fact, in memory of former days he had brought, carefully wrapped up in paper, a few almonds and raisins and grapes, obtained somehow from a countryman, for his own little fund was dispersed. I said again: "There is a ceremony in the house, and you will not be able to see any one to-day." The man's face fell. He looked wistfully at me for a moment, said "Good morning," and went out. I felt a little sorry, and would have called him back, but I found he was returning of his own accord. He came close up to me holding out his offerings and said: "I brought these few things, sir, for the little one. Will you give them to her?" I took them and was going to pay him, but he caught my hand and said: "You are very kind, sir! Keep me in your recollection. Do not offer me money!--You have a little girl, I too have one like her in my own home. I think of her, and bring fruits to your child, not to make a profit for myself." Saying this, he put his hand inside his big loose robe, and brought out a small and dirty piece of paper. With great care he unfolded this, and smoothed it out with both hands on my table. It bore the impression of a little band. Not a photograph. Not a drawing. The impression of an ink-smeared hand laid flat on the paper. This touch of his own little daughter had been always on his heart, as he had come year after year to Calcutta, to sell his wares in the streets. Tears came to my eyes. I forgot that he was a poor Cabuli fruit-seller, while I was--but no, what was I more than he? He also was a father. That impression of the hand of his little Parbati in her distant mountain home reminded me of my own little Mini. I sent for Mini immediately from the inner apartment. Many difficulties were raised, but I would not listen. Clad in the red silk of her wedding-day, with the sandal paste on her forehead, and adorned as a young bride, Mini came, and stood bashfully before me. The Cabuliwallah looked a little staggered at the apparition. He could not revive their old friendship. At last he smiled and said: "Little one, are you going to your father-in-law's house?" But Mini now understood the meaning of the word "father-in-law," and she could not reply to him as of old. She flushed up at the question, and stood before him with her bride-like face turned down. I remembered the day when the Cabuliwallah and my Mini had first met, and I felt sad. When she had gone, Rahmun heaved a deep sigh, and sat down on the floor. The idea had suddenly come to him that his daughter too must have grown in this long time, and that he would have to make friends with her anew. Assuredly he would not find her, as he used to know her. And besides, what might not have happened to her in these eight years? The marriage-pipes sounded, and the mild autumn sun streamed round us. But Rahmun sat in the little Calcutta lane, and saw before him the barren mountains of Afghanistan. I took out a bank-note, and gave it to him, saying: "Go back to your own daughter, Rahmun, in your own country, and may the happiness of your meeting bring good fortune to my child!" Having made this present, I had to curtail some of the festivities. I could not have the electric lights I had intended, nor the military band, and the ladies of the house were despondent at it. But to me the wedding feast was all the brighter for the thought that in a distant land a long-lost father met again with his only child. 
31968	----	produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD. _A POEM BY KÁLIDÁSA._ Translated from the Sanskrit into English Verse BY RALPH T. H. GRIFFITH, M.A. PRINCIPAL OF BENARES COLLEGE. Second Edition. LONDON: TRÜBNER & CO., LUDGATE HILL. 1879. [_All rights reserved._] TRÜBNER'S ORIENTAL SERIES. V. PREFACE. Of the history of KÁLIDÁSA, to whom by general assent the KUMÁRA SAMBHAVA, or BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD, is attributed, we know but little with any certainty; we can only gather from a memorial-verse which enumerates their names, that he was one of the 'Nine Precious Stones' that shone at the Court of VIKRAMÁDITYA, King of OUJEIN, in the half century immediately preceding the Christian era.[A] As the examination of arguments for and against the correctness of this date is not likely to interest general readers, I must request them to rest satisfied with the belief that about the time when VIRGIL and HORACE were shedding an undying lustre upon the reign of AUGUSTUS, our poet KÁLIDÁSA lived, loved, and sang, giving and taking honour, at the polished court of the no less munificent patron of Sanskrit literature, at the period of its highest perfection. [A] [This date is much too early. It has been shown by H. Jacobi from the astrological data contained in the poem that the date of its composition cannot be placed earlier than about the middle of the fourth century A.D.] Little as we know of Indian poetry, here and there an English reader may be found, who is not entirely unacquainted with the name or works of the author of the beautiful dramas of SAKONTALÁ and THE HERO AND THE NYMPH, the former of which has long enjoyed an European celebrity in the translation of SIR WILLIAM JONES, and the latter is one of the most charming of PROFESSOR WILSON'S specimens of the Hindú Theatre; here and there even in England may be found a lover of the graceful, tender, picturesque, and fanciful, who knows something, and would gladly know more, of the sweet poet of the CLOUD MESSENGER, and THE SEASONS; whilst in Germany he has been deeply studied in the original, and enthusiastically admired in translation,--not the Orientalist merely, but the poet, the critic, the natural philosopher,--a GOETHE, a SCHLEGEL, a HUMBOLDT, having agreed, on account of his tenderness of feeling and his rich creative imagination, to set KÁLIDÁSA very high among the glorious company of the Sons of Song.[B] [B] Goethe says: Willst du die Blüthe des frühen, die Früchte des späteren Jahres, Willst du was reizt and entzückt, willst du was sättigt and nährt, Willst du den Himmel, die Erde, mit einem Namen begreifen; Nenn' ich Sakontalá, Dich, und so ist Alles gesagt. See also Schlegel's Dramatic Literature, Lect. II., and Humboldt's Kosmos, Vol. II. p. 40, and note. That the poem which is now for the first time offered to the general reader, in an English dress, will not diminish this reputation is the translator's earnest hope, yet my admiration of the grace and beauty that pervade so much of the work must not allow me to deny that occasionally, even in the noble Sanskrit, if we judge him by an European standard, KÁLIDÁSA is bald and prosaic. Nor is this a defence of the translator at the expense of the poet. Fully am I conscious how far I am from being able adequately to reproduce the fanciful creation of the sweet singer of OUJEIN; that numerous beauties of thought and expression I may have passed by, mistaken, marred; that in many of the more elaborate descriptions my own versification is 'harsh as the jarring of a tuneless chord' compared with the melody of KÁLIDÁSA'S rhythm, to rival whose sweetness and purity of language, so admirably adapted to the soft repose and celestial rosy hue of his pictures, would have tried all the fertility of resource, the artistic skill, and the exquisite ear of the author of LALLA ROOKH himself. I do not think this poem deserves, and I am sure it will not obtain, that admiration which the author's masterpieces already made known at once commanded; at all events, if the work itself is not inferior, it has not enjoyed the good fortune of having a JONES or a WILSON for translator. It may be as well to inform the reader, before he wonder at the misnomer, that the BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD was either left unfinished by its author, or time has robbed us of the conclusion; the latter is the more probable supposition, tradition informing us that the poem originally consisted of twenty-two cantos, of which only seven now remain.[C] [C] [Ten more cantos, of very inferior merit, have been published since this was written.] I have derived great assistance in the work of translation from the Calcutta printed edition of the poem in the Library of the East-India House; but although the Sanskrit commentaries accompanying the text are sometimes of the greatest use in unravelling the author's meaning, they can scarcely claim infallibility; and, not unfrequently, are so matter-of-fact and prosaic, that I have not scrupled to think, or rather to feel, for myself. It is, however, PROFESSOR STENZLER'S edition,[D] published under the auspices of the Oriental Translation Fund (a society that has liberally encouraged my own undertaking), that I have chiefly used. Valuable as this work is (and I will not disown my great obligations to it), it is much to be regretted that the extracts from the native commentators are so scanty, and the annotations so few and brief. [D] [With a Latin translation.] And now one word as to the manner in which I have endeavoured to perform my task. Though there is much, I think, that might be struck out, to the advantage of the poem, this I have in no instance ventured to do, my aim having been to give the English reader as faithful a cast of the original as my own power and the nature of things would permit, and, without attempting to give word for word or line for line, to produce upon the imagination impressions similar to those which one who studies the work in Sanskrit would experience. I will not seek to anticipate the critics, nor to deprecate their animadversions, by pointing out the beauties of the poet, or particularising the defects of him and his translator. That the former will be appreciated, and the latter kindly dealt with, late experience makes me confident; so that now, in the words of the Manager in the Prelude to the HERO AND THE NYMPH, "I have only to request the audience that they will listen to this work of KÁLIDÁSA with attention and kindness, in consideration of its subject and respect for the Author." ADDERLEY LIBRARY, MARLBOROUGH COLLEGE, _April, 1853_. PRELIMINARY NOTE. PRONUNCIATION. As a general rule, the Sanskrit vowels are to be sounded like those of the Italian alphabet, except the short or unaccented _a_, which has the sound of that letter in the word _America_: "_pandit_," a learned man, being pronounced _pundit_. _á_, long or accented like _a_ in _father_. _e_ like _e_ in _they_. _i_, short or unaccented, like _i_ in _pick_. _í_, long or accented like _i_ in _pique_. _o_ like _o_ in _go_. _u_, short or unaccented, like _u_ in _full_. _ú_, long or accented like _u_ in _rule_. The diphthongs _ai_ and _au_ are pronounced severally like _i_ in _rise_ and _ou_ in _our_. The consonants are sounded as in English. In the aspirates, however, the sound of _h_ is kept distinct; _dh_, _th_, _ph_, _bh_, &c., being pronounced as in _red-hot_, _pent-house_, _up-hill_, _abhor_, &c. _G_ is always hard, whatever vowel follows. In HIMÁLAYA the accent is on the _second_ syllable. THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD. Canto First. _UMÁ'S NATIVITY._ Far in the north HIMÁLAYA, lifting high His towery summits till they cleave the sky, Spans the wide land from east to western sea, Lord of the hills, instinct with deity. For him, when PRITHU ruled in days of old The rich earth, teeming with her gems and gold, The vassal hills and MERU drained her breast, To deck HIMÁLAYA, for they loved him best; And earth, the mother, gave her store to fill With herbs and sparkling ores the royal hill. Proud mountain-king! his diadem of snow Dims not the beauty of his gems below. For who can gaze upon the moon, and dare To mark one spot less brightly glorious there? Who, 'mid a thousand virtues, dares to blame One shade of weakness in a hero's fame? Oft, when the gleamings of his mountain brass Flash through the clouds and tint them as they pass, Those glories mock the hues of closing day, And heaven's bright wantons hail their hour of play; Try, ere the time, the magic of their glance, And deck their beauty for the twilight dance. Dear to the sylphs are the cool shadows thrown By dark clouds wandering round the mountain's zone, Till frightened by the storm and rain they seek Eternal sunshine on each loftier peak. Far spread the wilds where eager hunters roam, Tracking the lion to his dreary home. For though the melting snow has washed away The crimson blood-drops of the wounded prey, Still the fair pearls that graced his forehead tell Where the strong elephant, o'ermastered, fell, And clinging to the lion's claws, betray, Falling at every step, the mighty conqueror's way. There birch-trees wave, that lend their friendly aid To tell the passion of the love-lorn maid, So quick to learn in metal tints to mark Her hopes and fears upon the tender bark. List! breathing from each cave, HIMÁLAYA leads The glorious hymn with all his whispering reeds, Till heavenly minstrels raise their voice in song, And swell his music as it floats along. There the fierce elephant wounds the scented bough To ease the torment of his burning brow; And bleeding pines their odorous gum distil To breathe rare fragrance o'er the sacred hill. There magic herbs pour forth their streaming light From mossy caverns through the darksome night, And lend a torch to guide the trembling maid Where waits her lover in the leafy shade. Yet hath he caves within whose inmost cells In tranquil rest the murky darkness dwells, And, like the night-bird, spreads the brooding wing Safe in the shelter of the mountain-king, Unscorned, uninjured; for the good and great Spurn not the suppliant for his lowly state. Why lingers yet the heavenly minstrel's bride On the wild path that skirts HIMÁLAYA'S side? Cold to her tender feet--oh, cold--the snow, Why should her steps--her homeward steps--be slow? 'Tis that her slender ankles scarce can bear The weight of beauty that impedes her there; Each rounded limb, and all her peerless charms, That broad full bosom, those voluptuous arms. E'en the wild kine that roam his forests bring The royal symbols to the mountain-king. With tails outspread, their bushy streaming hair Flashes like moonlight through the parted air. What monarch's fan more glorious might there be, More meet to grace a king as proud as he? There, when the nymphs, within the cave's recess, In modest fear their gentle limbs undress, Thick clouds descending yield a friendly screen, And blushing beauty bares her breast unseen. With pearly dewdrops GANGÁ loads the gale That waves the dark pines towering o'er the vale, And breathes in welcome freshness o'er the face Of wearied hunters when they quit the chase. So far aloft, amid Himálayan steeps, Crouched on the tranquil pool the lotus sleeps, That the bright SEVEN who star the northern sky Cull the fair blossoms from their seats on high; And when the sun pours forth his morning glow In streams of glory from his path below, They gain new beauty as his kisses break His darlings' slumber on the mountain lake. Well might that ancient hill by merit claim The power and glory of a monarch's name; Nurse of pure herbs that grace each holy rite, Earth's meetest bearer of unyielding might. The Lord of Life for this ordained him king, And bade him share the sacred offering. Gladly obedient to the law divine, He chose a consort to prolong his line. No child of earth, born of the Sage's will, The fair nymph MENÁ pleased the sovran hill. To her he sued, nor was his prayer denied, The Saints' beloved was the mountain's bride. Crowned with all bliss and beauty were the pair, He passing glorious, she was heavenly fair. Swiftly the seasons, winged with love, flew on, And made her mother of a noble son, The great MAINÁKA, who in triumph led His Serpent beauties to the bridal bed; And once when INDRA'S might those pinions rent That bare the swift hills through the firmament, (So fierce his rage, no mountain could withstand The wild bolt flashing from his red right hand,) He fled to Ocean, powerful to save, And hid his glory 'neath the friendly wave. A gentle daughter came at length to bless The royal mother with her loveliness; Born once again, for in an earlier life High fame was hers, as ['S]IVA'S faithful wife. But her proud sire had dared the God to scorn; Then was her tender soul with anguish torn, And jealous for the lord she loved so well, Her angered spirit left its mortal cell. Now deigned the maid, a lovely boon, to spring From that pure lady and the mountain-king. When Industry and Virtue meet and kiss, Holy their union, and the fruit is bliss. Blest was that hour, and all the world was gay, When MENÁ'S daughter saw the light of day. A rosy glow suffused the brightening sky; An odorous breeze came sweeping softly by. Breathed round the hill a sweet unearthly strain, And the glad heavens poured down their flowery rain. That fair young maiden diademmed with light Made her dear mother's fame more sparkling bright. As the blue offspring of the Turquois Hills The parent mount with richer glory fills, When the cloud's voice has caused the gem to spring, Responsive to its gentle thundering. Then was it sweet, as days flew by, to trace The dawning charm of every infant grace, Even as the crescent moons their glory pour More full, more lovely than the eve before. As yet the maiden was unknown to fame; Child of the Mountain was her only name. But when her mother, filled with anxious care At her stern penance, cried Forbear! Forbear! To a new title was the warning turned, And UMÁ was the name the maiden earned. Loveliest was she of all his lovely race, And dearest to her father. On her face Looking with love he ne'er could satisfy The thirsty glances of a parent's eye. When spring-tide bids a thousand flowerets bloom Loading the breezes with their rich perfume, Though here and there the wandering bee may rest, He loves his own--his darling mango--best. The Gods' bright river bathes with gold the skies, And pure sweet eloquence adorns the wise. The flambeau's glory is the shining fire; She was the pride, the glory of her sire, Shedding new lustre on his old descent, His loveliest child, his richest ornament. The sparkling GANGÁ laved her heavenly home, And o'er her islets would the maiden roam Amid the dear companions of her play With ball and doll to while the hours away. As swans in autumn in assembling bands Fly back to GANGÁ'S well-remembered sands: As herbs beneath the darksome shades of night Collect again their scattered rays of light: So dawned upon the maiden's waking mind The far-off memory of her life resigned, And all her former learning in its train, Feelings, and thoughts, and knowledge came again. Now beauty's prime, that craves no artful aid, Ripened the loveliness of that young maid: That needs no wine to fire the captive heart,-- The bow of Love without his flowery dart. There was a glory beaming from her face, With love's own light, and every youthful grace: Ne'er had the painter's skilful hand portrayed A lovelier picture than that gentle maid; Ne'er sun-kissed lily more divinely fair Unclosed her beauty to the morning air. Bright as a lotus, springing where she trod, Her glowing feet shed radiance o'er the sod. That arching neck, the step, the glance aside, The proud swans taught her as they stemmed the tide, Whilst of the maiden they would fondly learn Her anklets' pleasant music in return. When the Almighty Maker first began The marvellous beauty of that child to plan, In full fair symmetry each rounded limb Grew neatly fashioned and approved by Him: The rest was faultless, for the Artist's care Formed each young charm most excellently fair, As if his moulding hand would fain express The visible type of perfect loveliness. What thing of beauty may the poet dare With the smooth wonder of those limbs compare? The young tree springing by the brooklet's side? The rounded trunk, the forest-monarch's pride? Too rough that trunk, too cold that young tree's stem; A softer, warmer thing must vie with them. Her hidden beauties though no tongue may tell, Yet ['S]IVA'S love will aid the fancy well: No other maid could deem her boasted charms Worthy the clasp of such a husband's arms. Between the partings of fair UMÁ'S vest Came hasty glimpses of a lovely breast: So closely there the sweet twin hillocks rose, Scarce could the lotus in the vale repose. And if her loosened zone e'er slipped below, All was so bright beneath the mantle's flow, So dazzling bright, as if the maid had braced A band of gems to sparkle round her waist; And the dear dimples of her downy skin Seemed fitting couch for Love to revel in. Her arms were softer than the flowery dart, Young KÁMA'S arrow, that subdues the heart; For vain his strife with ['S]IVA, till at last He chose those chains to bind his conqueror fast. E'en the new moon poured down a paler beam When her long fingers flashed their rosy gleam, And brighter than A['s]oka's blossom threw A glory round, like summer's evening hue. The strings of pearl across her bosom thrown Increased its beauty, and enhanced their own,-- Her breast, her jewels seeming to agree, The adorner now, and now the adorned to be. When BEAUTY gazes on the fair full moon, No lotus charms her, for it blooms at noon: If on that flower she feed her raptured eye, No moon is shining from the mid-day sky; She looked on UMÁ'S face, more heavenly fair, And found their glories both united there. The loveliest flower that ever opened yet Laid in the fairest branch: a fair pearl set In richest coral, with her smile might vie Flashing through lips bright with their rosy dye. And when she spoke, upon the maiden's tongue, Distilling nectar, such rare accents hung, The sweetest note that e'er the Koïl poured Seemed harsh and tuneless as a jarring chord. The melting glance of that soft liquid eye, Tremulous like lilies when the breezes sigh, Which learnt it first--so winning and so mild-- The gentle fawn, or MENÁ'S gentler child? And oh, the arching of her brow! so fine Was the rare beauty of its pencilled line, LOVE gazed upon her forehead in despair And spurned the bow he once esteemed so fair: Her long bright tresses too might shame the pride Of envious yaks who roamed the mountain-side. Surely the Maker's care had been to bring From Nature's store each sweetest, loveliest thing, As if the world's Creator would behold All beauty centred in a single mould. When holy NÁRAD--Saint who roams at will-- First saw the daughter of the royal hill, He hailed the bride whom ['S]IVA'S love should own Half of himself, and partner of his throne. HIMÁLAYA listened, and the father's pride Would yield the maiden for no other's bride: To Fire alone of all bright things we raise The holy hymn, the sacrifice of praise. But still the monarch durst not, could not bring His child, unsought, to Heaven's supremest King; But as a good man fears his earnest prayer Should rise unheeded, and with thoughtful care Seeks for some friend his eager suit to aid, Thus great HIMÁLAYA in his awe delayed. Since the sad moment when his gentle bride In the full glory of her beauty died, The mournful ['S]IVA in the holy grove Had dwelt in solitude, and known not love. High on that hill where musky breezes throw Their balmy odours o'er eternal snow; Where heavenly minstrels pour their notes divine, And rippling GANGÁ laves the mountain pine, Clad in a coat of skin all rudely wrought He lived for prayer and solitary thought. The faithful band that served the hermit's will Lay in the hollows of the rocky hill, Where from the clefts the dark bitumen flowed. Tinted with mineral dyes their bodies glowed; Clad in rude mantles of the birch-tree's rind, With bright red garlands was their hair entwined. The holy bull before his master's feet Shook the hard-frozen earth with echoing feet, And as he heard the lion's roaring swell In distant thunder from the rocky dell, In angry pride he raised his voice of fear And from the mountain drove the startled deer. Bright fire--a shape the God would sometimes wear Who takes eight various forms--was glowing there. Then the great deity who gives the prize Of penance, prayer, and holy exercise, As though to earn the meed he grants to man, Himself the penance and the pain began. Now to that holy lord, to whom is given Honour and glory by the Gods in heaven, The worship of a gift HIMÁLAYA paid, And towards his dwelling sent the lovely maid; Her task, attended by her youthful train, To woo his widowed heart to love again. The hermit welcomed with a courteous brow That gentle enemy of hermit vow. The still pure breast where Contemplation dwells Defies the charmer and the charmer's spells. Calm and unmoved he viewed the wondrous maid, And bade her all his pious duties aid. She culled fresh blossoms at the God's command, Sweeping the altar with a careful hand; The holy grass for sacred rites she sought, And day by day the fairest water brought. And if the unwonted labour caused a sigh, The fair-haired lady turned her languid eye Where the pale moon on ['S]IVA'S forehead gleamed, And swift through all her frame returning vigour streamed. _CANTO SECOND._ Canto Second. _THE ADDRESS TO BRAHMÁ._ While impious TÁRAK in resistless might Was troubling heaven and earth with wild affright, To BRAHMÁ'S high abode, by INDRA led, The mournful deities for refuge fled. As when the Day-God's loving beams awake The lotus slumbering on the silver lake, So BRAHMÁ deigned his glorious face to show, And poured sweet comfort on their looks of woe. Then nearer came the suppliant Gods to pay Honour to him whose face turns every way. They bowed them low before the Lord of Speech, And sought with truthful words his heart to reach: "Glory to Thee! before the world was made, One single form thy Majesty displayed. Next Thou, to body forth the mystic Three, Didst fill three Persons: Glory, Lord, to Thee! Unborn and unbegotten! from thy hand The fruitful seed rained down; at thy command From that small germ o'er quickening waters thrown All things that move not, all that move have grown. Before thy triple form in awe they bow: Maker, preserver, and destroyer, Thou! Thou, when a longing urged thee to create, Thy single form in twain didst separate. The Sire, the Mother that made all things be By their first union were but parts of Thee. From them the life that fills this earthly frame, And fruitful Nature, self-renewing, came. Thou countest not thy time by mortals' light; With Thee there is but one vast day and night. When BRAHMÁ slumbers fainting Nature dies, When BRAHMÁ wakens all again arise. Creator of the world, and uncreate! Endless! all things from Thee their end await. Before the world wast Thou! each Lord shall fall Before Thee, mightiest, highest, Lord of all. Thy self-taught soul thine own deep spirit knows; Made by thyself thy mighty form arose; Into the same, when all things have their end, Shall thy great self, absorbed in Thee, descend. Lord, who may hope thy essence to declare? Firm, yet as subtile as the yielding air: Fixt, all-pervading; ponderous, yet light, Patent to all, yet hidden from the sight. Thine are the sacred hymns which mortals raise, Commencing ever with the word of praise, With three-toned chant the sacrifice to grace, And win at last in heaven a blissful place. They hail Thee Nature labouring to free The Immortal Soul from low humanity; Hail Thee the stranger Spirit, unimpressed, Gazing on Nature from thy lofty rest. Father of fathers, God of gods art thou, Creator, highest, hearer of the vow! Thou art the sacrifice, and Thou the priest, Thou, he that eateth; Thou, the holy feast. Thou art the knowledge which by Thee is taught, The mighty thinker, and the highest thought!" Pleased with their truthful praise, his favouring eye He turned upon the dwellers in the sky, While from four mouths his words in gentle flow Come welling softly to assuage their woe: "Welcome! glad welcome, Princes! ye who hold Your lofty sovereignties ordained of old. But why so mournful? what has dimmed your light? Why shine your faces less divinely bright? Like stars that pour forth weaker, paler gleams, When the fair moon with brighter radiance beams. O say, in vain doth mighty INDRA bear The thunderbolt of heaven, unused to spare? VRITRA, the furious fiend, 'twas strong to slay: Why dull and blunted is that might to-day? See, VARUN'S noose hangs idly on his arm, Like some fell serpent quelled by magic charm. Weak is KUVERA'S hand, his arm no more Wields the dread mace it once so proudly bore; But like a tree whose boughs are lopped away, It tells of piercing woe, and dire dismay. In days of yore how YAMA'S sceptre shone! Fled are its glories, all its terrors gone; Despised and useless as a quenched brand, All idly now it marks the yielding sand. Fallen are the Lords of Light, ere now the gaze Shrank from the coming of their fearful blaze; So changed are they, the undazzled eye may see Like pictured forms, each rayless deity. Some baffling power has curbed the breezes' swell: Vainly they chafe against the secret spell. We know some barrier checks their wonted course, When refluent waters seek again their source. The RUDRAS too--fierce demigods who bear The curved moon hanging from their twisted hair-- Tell by their looks of fear, and shame, and woe, Of threats now silenced, of a mightier foe. Glory and power, ye Gods, were yours of right: Have ye now yielded to some stronger might, Even as on earth a general law may be Made powerless by a special text's decree? Then say, my sons, why seek ye BRAHMÁ'S throne? 'Tis mine to frame the worlds, and yours to guard your own." Then INDRA turned his thousand glorious eyes, Glancing like lilies when the soft wind sighs, And in the Gods' behalf, their mighty chief Urged the Most Eloquent to tell their grief. Then rose the heavenly Teacher, by whose side Dim seemed the glories of the Thousand-eyed, And with his hands outspread, to BRAHMÁ spake, Couched on his own dear flower, the daughter of the lake: "O mighty Being! surely thou dost know The unceasing fury of our ruthless foe; For thou canst see the secret thoughts that lie Deep in the heart, yet open to thine eye. The vengeful TÁRAK, in resistless might, Like some dire Comet, gleaming wild affright, O'er all the worlds an evil influence sheds, And, in thy favour strong, destruction spreads. All bow before him: on his palace wall The sun's first ray and parting splendour fall; Ne'er could he waken with a lovelier glance His own dear lotus from her nightly trance. For him, proud fiend, the moon no waning knows, But with unminished full-orbed lustre glows. Too faint for him the crescent glory set Amid the blaze of ['S]IVA'S coronet. How fair his garden, where the obedient breeze Dares steal no blossom from the slumbering trees! The wild wind checks his blustering pinions there, And gently whispering fans the balmy air; While through the inverted year the seasons pour, To win the demon's grace, their flowery store. For him, the River-god beneath the stream, Marks the young pearl increase its silver gleam, Until, its beauty and its growth complete, He bears the offering to his master's feet. The Serpents, led by VÁSUKI, their king, Across his nightly path their lustre fling; Bright as a torch their flashing jewels blaze, Nor wind, nor rain, can dim their dazzling rays. E'en INDRA, sovereign of the blissful skies, To gain his love by flattering homage tries, And sends him oft those flowers of wondrous hue That on the heavenly tree in beauty grew. Yet all these offerings brought from day to day, This flattery, fail his ruthless hand to stay. Earth, hell, and heaven, beneath his rage must groan, Till force can hurl him from his evil throne. Alas! where glowed the bright celestial bowers, And gentle fair ones nursed the opening flowers, Where heavenly trees a heavenly odour shed, O'er a sad desert ruin reigns instead. He roots up MERU'S sacred peaks, where stray The fiery coursers of the God of Day, To form bright slopes, and glittering mounds of ease, In the broad gardens of his palaces. There, on his couch, the mighty lord is fanned To sweetest slumber by a heavenly band; Poor captive nymphs, who stand in anguish by, Drop the big tear, and heave the ceaseless sigh. And now have INDRA'S elephants defiled The sparkling stream where heavenly GANGÁ smiled, And her gold lotuses the fiend has taken To deck his pools, and left her all forsaken. The Gods of heaven no more delight to roam O'er all the world, far from their glorious home. They dread the demon's impious might, nor dare Speed their bright chariots through the fields of air. And when our worshippers in duty bring The appointed victims for the offering, He tears them from the flame with magic art, While we all powerless watch with drooping heart. He too has stolen from his master's side The steed of heavenly race, great INDRA'S pride. No more our hosts, so glorious once, withstand The fierce dominion of the demon's hand, As herbs of healing virtue fail to tame The sickness raging through the infected frame. Idly the discus hangs on VISH[N.]U'S neck, And our last hope is vain, that it would check The haughty TÁRAK'S might, and flash afar Ruin and death--the thunderbolt of war. E'en INDRA'S elephant has felt the might Of his fierce monsters in the deadly fight, Which spurn the dust in fury, and defy The threatening clouds that sail along the sky. Therefore, O Lord, we seek a chief, that he May lead the hosts of heaven to victory, Even as holy men who long to sever The immortal spirit from its shell for ever, Seek lovely Virtue's aid to free the soul From earthly ties and action's base control. Thus shall he save us: proudly will we go Under his escort 'gainst the furious foe; And INDRA, conqueror in turn, shall bring FORTUNE, dear captive, home with joy and triumphing." Sweet as the rains--the fresh'ning rains--that pour On the parched earth when thunders cease to roar, Were BRAHMÁ'S words: "Gods, I have heard your grief; Wait ye in patience: time will bring relief. 'Tis not for me, my children, to create A chief to save you from your mournful fate. Not by my hand the fiend must be destroyed, For my kind favour has he once enjoyed; And well ye know that e'en a poisonous tree By him who planted it unharmed should be. He sought it eagerly, and long ago I gave my favour to your demon-foe, And stayed his awful penance, that had hurled Flames, death, and ruin o'er the subject world. When that great warrior battles for his life, O, who may conquer in the deadly strife, Save one of ['S]IVA'S seed? He is the light, Reigning supreme beyond the depths of night. Nor I, nor VISH[N.]U, his full power may share, Lo, where he dwells in solitude and prayer! Go, seek the Hermit in the grove alone, And to the God be UMÁ'S beauty shown. Perchance, the Mountain-child, with magnet's force, May turn the iron from its steadfast course, Bride of the mighty God; for only she Can bear to Him as water bears to me. Then from their love a mighty Child shall rise, And lead to war the armies of the skies. Freed by his hand, no more the heavenly maids Shall twine their glittering hair in mournful braids." He spake, and vanished from their wondering sight; And they sped homeward to their world of light. But INDRA, still on BRAHMÁ'S words intent, To KÁMA'S dwelling-place his footsteps bent. Swiftly he came: the yearning of his will Made INDRA'S lightning course more speedy still. The LOVE-GOD, armed with flowers divinely sweet, In lowly homage bowed before his feet. Around his neck, where bright love-tokens clung, Arched like a maiden's brow, his bow was hung, And blooming SPRING, his constant follower, bore The mango twig, his weapon famed of yore. _CANTO THIRD._ Canto Third. _THE DEATH OF LOVE._ Is eager gaze the sovereign of the skies looked full on _Káma_ with his thousand eyes: E'en such a gaze as trembling suppliants bend, When danger threatens, on a mighty friend. Close by his side, where INDRA bade him rest, The LOVE-GOD sate, and thus his lord addressed: "All-knowing INDRA, deign, my Prince, to tell Thy heart's desire in earth, or heaven, or hell: Double the favour, mighty sovereign, thou Hast thought on KÁMA, O, command him now: Who angers thee by toiling for the prize, By penance, prayer, or holy sacrifice? What mortal being dost thou count thy foe? Speak, I will tame him with my darts and bow. Has some one feared the endless change of birth, And sought the path that leads the soul from earth? Slave to a glancing eye thy foe shall bow, And own the witchery of a woman's brow; E'en though the object of thine envious rage Were taught high wisdom by the immortal sage, With billowy passions will I whelm his soul, Like rushing waves that spurn the bank's control. Or has the ripe full beauty of a spouse, Too fondly faithful to her bridal vows, Ravished thy spirit from thee? Thine, all thine Around thy neck her loving arms shall twine. Has thy love, jealous of another's charms, Spurned thee in wrath when flying to her arms? I'll rack her yielding bosom with such pain, Soon shall she be all love and warmth again, And wildly fly in fevered haste to rest Her aching heart close, close to thy dear breast. Lay, INDRA, lay thy threatening bolt aside: My gentle darts shall tame the haughtiest pride, And all that war with heaven and thee shall know The magic influence of thy KÁMA'S bow; For woman's curling lip shall bow them down, Fainting in terror at her threatening frown. Flowers are my arms, mine only warrior SPRING, Yet in thy favour am I strong, great King. What can their strength who draw the bow avail Against my matchless power when I assail? Strong is the Trident-bearing God, yet he, The mighty ['S]IVA, e'en, must yield to me." Then INDRA answered with a dawning smile, Resting his foot upon a stool the while: "Dear God of Love, thou truly hast displayed The power unrivalled of thy promised aid. My hope is all in thee: my weapons are The thunderbolt and thou, more mighty far. But vain, all vain the bolt of heaven to fright Those holy Saints whom penance arms aright. Thy power exceeds all bound: thou, only thou, All-conquering Deity, canst help me now! Full well I know thy nature, and assign This toil to thee, which needs a strength like thine: As on that snake alone will KRISH[N.]A rest, That bears the earth upon his haughty crest. Our task is well-nigh done: thy boasted dart Has power to conquer even ['S]IVA'S heart. Hear what the Gods, oppressed with woe, would fain From mighty ['S]IVA through thine aid obtain. He may beget--and none in heaven but he--A chief to lead our hosts to victory. But all his mind with holiest lore is fraught, Bent on the Godhead is his every thought. Thy darts, O LOVE, alone can reach him now, And lure his spirit from the hermit vow. Go, seek HIMÁLAYA'S Mountain-child, and aid With all thy loveliest charms the lovely maid, So may she please his fancy: only she May wed with ['S]IVA: such the fixt decree. E'en now my bands of heavenly maids have spied Fair UMÁ dwelling by the Hermit's side. There by her father's bidding rests she still, Sweet minister, upon the cold bleak hill. Go, KÁMA, go! perform this great emprise, And free from fear the Rulers of the Skies; We need thy favour, as the new-sown grain Calls for the influence of the gentle rain. Go, KÁMA, go! thy flowery darts shall be Crowned with success o'er this great deity. Yea, and thy task is e'en already done, For praise and glory are that instant won When a bold heart dares manfully essay The deed which others shrink from in dismay. Gods are thy suppliants, KÁMA, and on thee Depends the triple world's security. No cruel deed will stain thy flowery bow: With all thy gentlest, mightiest valour, go! And now, Disturber of the spirit, see SPRING, thy beloved, will thy comrade be, And gladly aid thee ['S]IVA'S heart to tame: None bids the whispering Wind, and yet he fans the flame." He spake, and KÁMA bowed his bright head down, And took his bidding like a flowery crown. Above his wavy curls great INDRA bent, And fondly touched his soldier ere he went, With that hard hand--but, O, how gentle now-- That fell so heavy on his elephant's brow. Then for that snow-crowned hill he turned away, Where all alone the heavenly Hermit lay. His fearful RATI and his comrade SPRING Followed the guidance of Love's mighty king. There will he battle in unwonted strife, Return a conqueror or be reft of life. How fair was SPRING! To fill the heart with love, And lure the Hermit from his thoughts above, In that pure grove he grew so heavenly bright That KÁMA'S envy wakened at the sight. Now the bright Day-God turned his burning ray To where KUVERA holds his royal sway, While the sad South in whispering breezes sighed And mourned his absence like a tearful bride. Then from its stem the red A['s]oka threw Full buds and flowerets of celestial hue, Nor waited for the maiden's touch, the sweet beloved pressure of her tinkling feet. There grew LOVE'S arrow, his dear mango spray, Winged with young leaves to speed its airy way, And at the call of SPRING the wild bees came, Grouping the syllables of KÁMA'S name. How sighed the spirit o'er that loveliest flower That boasts no fragrance to enrich its dower! For Nature, wisest mother, oft prefers To part more fairly those good gifts of hers. There from the tree Palása blossoms spread, Curved like the crescent moon, their rosiest red, With opening buds that looked as if young SPRING Had pressed his nails there in his dallying: Sweet wanton SPRING, to whose enchanting face His flowery Tilaka gave fairer grace: Who loves to tint his lip, the mango spray, With the fresh colours of the early day, And powder its fine red with many a bee That sips the oozing nectar rapturously. The cool gale speeding o'er the shady lawns Shook down the sounding leaves, while startled fawns Ran wildly at the viewless foe, all blind With pollen wafted by the fragrant wind. Sweet was the Köil's voice, his neck still red With mango buds on which he late had fed: Twas as the voice of LOVE to bid the dame Spurn her cold pride, nor quench the gentle flame. What though the heat has stained the tints that dyed With marvellous bloom the heavenly minstrel's bride? Neither her smile nor sunny glances fail: Bright is her lip, although her check be pale E'en the pure hermits owned the secret power Of warm SPRING coming in unwonted hour, While LOVE'S delightful witchery gently stole With strong sweet influence o'er the saintly soul. On came the Archer-God, and at his side The timid RATI, his own darling bride, While breathing nature showed how deep it felt, At passion's glowing touch, the senses melt. For there in eager love the wild bee dipp'd In the dark flower-cup where his partner sipp'd. Here in the shade the hart his horn declined, And, while joy closed her eyes, caressed the hind. There from her trunk the elephant had poured A lily-scented stream to cool her lord, While the fond love-bird by the silver flood Gave to his mate the tasted lotus bud. Full in his song the minstrel stayed to sip The heavenlier nectar of his darling's lip. Pure pearls of heat had late distained the dye, But flowery wine was sparkling in her eye. How the young creeper's beauty charmed the view, Fair as the fairest maid, as playful too! Here some bright blossoms, lovelier than the rest, In full round beauty matched her swelling breast. Here in a thin bright line, some delicate spray, Red as her lip, ravished the soul away. And then how loving, and how close they clung To the tall trees that fondly o'er them hung! Bright, heavenly wantons poured the witching strain, Quiring for ['S]IVA'S ear, but all in vain. No charmer's spell may check the firm control Won by the holy o'er the impassioned soul. The Hermit's servant hasted to the door: In his left hand a branch of gold he bore. He touched his lip for silence: "Peace! be still! Nor mar the quiet of this holy hill." He spake: no dweller of the forest stirred, No wild bee murmured, hushed was every bird. Still and unmoved, as in a picture stood All life that breathed within the waving wood. As some great monarch when he goes to war Shuns the fierce aspect of a baleful star, So KÁMA hid him from the Hermit's eye, And sought a path that led unnoticed by, Where tangled flowers and clustering trailers spread Their grateful canopy o'er ['S]IVA'S head. Bent on his hardy enterprise, with awe The Three-eyed Lord--great Penitent--he saw. There sate the God beneath a pine-tree's shade, Where on a mound a tiger's skin was laid. Absorbed in holiest thought, erect and still, The Hermit rested on the gentle hill. His shoulders drooping down, each foot was bent Beneath the body of the Penitent. With open palms the hands were firmly pressed, As though a lotus lay upon his breast. A double rosary in each ear, behind With wreathing serpents were his locks entwined. His coat of hide shone blacker to the view Against his neck of brightly beaming blue. How wild the look, how terrible the frown Of his dark eyebrows bending sternly down! How fiercely glared his eyes' unmoving blaze Fixed in devotion's meditating gaze: Calm as a full cloud resting on a hill, A waveless lake when every breeze is still, Like a torch burning in a sheltered spot, So still was he, unmoving, breathing not. So full the stream of marvellous glory poured from the bright forehead of that mighty Lord, Pale seemed the crescent moon upon his head, And slenderer than a slender lotus thread. At all the body's nine-fold gates of sense He had barred in the pure Intelligence, To ponder on the Soul which sages call Eternal Spirit, highest, over all. How sad was KÁMA at the awful sight, How failed his courage in a swoon of fright! As near and nearer to the God he came Whom wildest thought could never hope to tame, Unconsciously his hands, in fear and woe, Dropped the sweet arrows and his flowery bow. But UMÁ came with all her maiden throng, And KÁMA'S fainting heart again was strong; Bright flowers of spring, in every lovely hue, Around the lady's form rare beauty threw. Some clasped her neck like strings of purest pearls, Some shot their glory through her wavy curls. Bending her graceful head as half-oppressed With swelling charms even too richly blest, Fancy might deem that beautiful young maiden Some slender tree with its sweet flowers o'erladen. From time to time her gentle hand replaced The flowery girdle slipping from her waist: It seemed that LOVE could find no place more fair, So hung his newest, dearest bowstring there. A greedy bee kept hovering round to sip The fragrant nectar of her blooming lip. She closed her eyes in terror of the thief, And beat him from her with a lotus leaf. The angry curl of RATI'S lip confessed The shade of envy that stole o'er her breast. Through KÁMA'S soul fresh hope and courage flew, As that sweet vision blessed his eager view. So bright, so fair, so winning soft was she, Who could not conquer in such company? Now UMÁ came, fair maid, his destined bride, With timid steps approaching ['S]IVA'S side. In contemplation will he brood no more, He sees the Godhead, and his task is o'er. He breathes, he moves, the earth begins to rock, The Snake, her bearer, trembling at the shock. Due homage then his own dear servant paid, And told him of the coming of the maid. He learnt his Master's pleasure by the nod, And led HIMÁLAYA'S daughter to the God. Before his feet her young companions spread Fresh leaves and blossoms as they bowed the head, While UMÁ stooped so low, that from her hair Dropped the bright flower that starred the midnight there. To him whose ensign bears the bull she bent, Till each spray fell, her ear's rich ornament. "Sweet maid," cried ['S]IVA, "surely thou shalt be Blessed with a husband who loves none but thee!" Her fear was banished, and her hope was high: A God had spoken, and Gods cannot lie. Rash as some giddy moth that wooes the flame, LOVE seized the moment, and prepared to aim. Close by the daughter of the Mountain-King, He looked on ['S]IVA, and he eyed his string. While with her radiant hand fair UMÁ gave A rosary, of the lotuses that lave Their beauties in the heavenly GANGÁ'S wave, And the great Three-Eyed God was fain to take The offering for the well-loved suppliant's sake, On his bright bow LOVE placed the unerring dart, The soft beguiler of the stricken heart. Like the Moon's influence on the sea at rest, Came passion stealing o'er the Hermit's breast, While on the maiden's lip that mocked the dye Of ripe red fruit, he bent his melting eye. And oh! how showed the lady's love for him, The heaving bosom, and each quivering limb! Like young Kadambas, when the leaf-buds swell, At the warm touch of Spring they love so well. But still, with downcast eyes, she sought the ground, And durst not turn their burning glances round. Then with strong effort, ['S]IVA lulled to rest, The storm of passion in his troubled breast, And seeks, with angry eyes that round him roll, Whence came the tempest o'er his tranquil soul. He looked, and saw the bold young archer stand, His bow bent ready in his skilful hand, Drawn towards the eye; his shoulder well depressed, And the left foot thrown forward as a rest. Then was the Hermit-God to madness lashed, Then from his eye red flames of fury flashed. So changed the beauty of that glorious brow, Scarce could the gaze support its terror now. Hark! heavenly voices sighing through the air: "Be calm, great ['S]IVA, O be calm and spare!" Alas! that angry eye's resistless flashes Have scorched the gentle King of Love to ashes! But RATI saw not, for she swooned away; Senseless and breathless on the earth she lay; Sleep while thou mayst, unconscious lady, sleep! Soon wilt thou rise to sigh and wake to weep. E'en as the red bolt rives the leafy bough, So ['S]IVA smote the hinderer of his vow; Then fled with all his train to some lone place Far from the witchery of a female face. Sad was HIMALÁYA'S daughter: grief and shame O'er the young spirit of the maiden came: Grief--for she loved, and all her love was vain; Shame--she was spurned before her youthful train. She turned away, with fear and woe oppressed, To hide her sorrow on her father's breast; Then, in the fond arms of her pitying sire, Closed her sad eyes for fear of ['S]IVA'S ire. Still in his grasp the weary maiden lay, While he sped swiftly on his homeward way. Thus have I seen the elephant stoop to drink, And lift a lily from the fountain's brink. Thus, when he rears his mighty head on high, Across his tusks I've seen that lily lie. _CANTO FOURTH._ Canto Fourth. _RATI'S LAMENT._ Sad, solitary, helpless, faint, forlorn, Woke KÁMA'S darling from her swoon to mourn. Too soon her gentle soul returned to know The pangs of widowhood--that word of woe. Scarce could she raise her, trembling, from the ground, Scarce dared to bend her anxious gaze around, Unconscious yet those greedy eyes should never Feed on his beauty more--gone, gone for ever. "Speak to me, KÁMA! why so silent? give One word in answer--doth my KÁMA live?" There on the turf his dumb cold ashes lay, Whose soul that fiery flash had scorched away. She clasped the dank earth in her wild despair, Her bosom stained, and rent her long bright hair, Till hill and valley caught the mourner's cry, And pitying breezes echoed sigh for sigh. "Oh thou wast beautiful: fond lovers sware Their own bright darlings were like KÁMA, fair. Sure woman's heart is stony: can it be That I still live while this is all of thee? Where art thou, KÁMA? Could my dearest leave His own fond RATI here alone to grieve? So must the sad forsaken lotus die When her bright river leaves his channel dry. KÁMA, dear KÁMA, call again to mind How thou wast ever gentle, I was kind. Let not my prayer, thy RATI'S prayer, be vain; Come as of old, and bless these eyes again! Wilt thou not hear me? Think of those sweet hours When I would bind thee with my zone of flowers, Those soft gay fetters o'er thee fondly wreathing, Thine only punishment when gently breathing In tones of love thy heedless sigh betrayed The name, dear traitor! of some rival maid. Then would I pluck a floweret from my tress And beat thee till I forced thee to confess, While in my play the falling leaves would cover The eyes--the bright eyes--of my captive lover. And then those words that made me, oh, so blest-- "Dear love, thy home is in my faithful breast!" Alas, sweet words, too blissful to be true, Or how couldst thou have died, nor RATI perish too? Yes, I will fly to thee, of thee bereft, And leave this world which thou, my life, hast left. Cold, gloomy, now this wretched world must be, For all its pleasures came from only thee. When night has veiled the city in its shade, Thou, only thou, canst soothe the wandering maid, And guide her trembling at the thunder's roar Safe through the darkness to her lover's door. In vain the wine-cup, as it circles by, Lisps in her tongue and sparkles in her eye. Long locks are streaming, and the cheek glows red: But all is mockery, LOVE--dear LOVE--is dead. The MOON, sweet spirit, shall lament for thee, Late, dim, and joyless shall his rising be. Days shall fly on, and he forget to take His full bright glory, mourning for thy sake. Say, KÁMA, say, whose arrow now shall be The soft green shoot of thy dear mango tree, The favourite spray which Köils love so well, And praise in sweetest strain its wondrous spell? This line of bees which strings thy useless bow Hums mournful echo to my cries of woe. Come in thy lovely shape and teach again The Köil's mate, that knows the tender strain, Her gentle task to waft to longing ears The lover's hope, the distant lover's fears. Come, bring once more that ecstasy of bliss, The fond dear look, the smile, and ah! that kiss! Fainting with woe, my soul refuses rest When memory pictures how I have been blest. See, thou didst weave a garland, love, to deck With all spring's fairest buds thy RATI'S neck. Sweet are those flowers as they were culled to-day, And is my KÁMA'S form more frail than they? His pleasant task my lover had begun, But stern Gods took him ere the work was done; Return, my KÁMA, at thy RATI'S cry, And stain this foot which waits the rosy dye. Now will I hie me to the fatal pile, And ere heaven's maids have hailed thee with a smile, Or on my love their winning glances thrown, I will be there, and claim thee for mine own. Yet though I come, my lasting shame will be That I have lived one moment after thee. Ah, how shall I thy funeral rites prepare, Gone soul and body to the viewless air? "With thy dear SPRING I've seen thee talk and smile, Shaping an arrow for thy bow the while. Where is he now, thy darling friend, the giver Of many a bright sweet arrow for thy quiver? Is he too sent upon death's dreary path, Scorched by the cruel God's inexorable wrath?" Stricken in spirit by her cries of woe, Like venomed arrows from a mighty bow, A moment fled, and gentle SPRING was there, To ask her grief, to soothe her wild despair. She beat her breast more wildly than before, With greater floods her weeping eyes ran o'er. When friends are nigh the spirit finds relief In the full gushing torrent of its grief. "Turn, gentle friend, thy weeping eyes, and see That dear companion who was all to me. His crumbling dust with which the breezes play, Bearing it idly in their course away, White as the silver feathers of a dove, Is all that's left me of my murdered love. Now come, my KÁMA. SPRING, who was so dear, Longs to behold thee. Oh, appear, appear! Fickle to women LOVE perchance may bend His ear to listen to a faithful friend. Remember, he walked ever at thy side O'er bloomy meadows in the warm spring-tide, That Gods above, and men, and fiends below Should own the empire of thy mighty bow, That ruthless bow, which pierces to the heart, Strung with a lotus-thread, a flower its dart. As dies a torch when winds sweep roughly by, So is my light for ever fled, and I, The lamp his cheering rays no more illume, Am wrapt in darkness, misery and gloom. Fate took my love, and spared the widow's breath, Yet fate is guilty of a double death. When the wild monster tramples on the ground The tree some creeper garlands closely round, Reft of the guardian which it thought so true, Forlorn and withered, it must perish too. Then come, dear friend, the true one's pile prepare, And send me quickly to my husband there. Call it not vain: the mourning lotus dies When the bright MOON, her lover, quits the skies. When sinks the red cloud in the purple west, Still clings his bride, the lightning, to his breast. All nature keeps the eternal high decree: Shall woman fail? I come, my love, to thee! Now on the pile my faint limbs will I throw, Clasping his ashes, lovely even so,-- As if beneath my weary frame were spread Soft leaves and blossoms for a flowery bed. And oh, dear comrade (for in happier hours Oft have I heaped a pleasant bed of flowers For thee and him beneath the spreading tree), Now quickly raise the pile for LOVE and me. And in thy mercy gentle breezes send To fan the flame that wafts away thy friend, And shorten the sad moments that divide Impatient KÁMA from his RATI'S side; Set water near us in a single urn, We'll sip in heaven from the same in turn; And let thine offering to his spirit be Sprays fresh and lovely from the mango tree, Culled when the round young buds begin to swell, For KÁMA loved those fragrant blossoms well." As RATI thus complained in faithful love, A heavenly voice breathed round her from above, Falling in pity like the gentle rain That brings the dying herbs to life again: "Bride of the flower-armed God, thy lord shall be Not ever distant, ever deaf to thee. Give me thine ear, sad lady, I will tell Why perished KÁMA, whom thou lovedst well. The Lord of Life in every troubled sense Too warmly felt his fair child's influence. He quenched the fire, but mighty vengeance came On KÁMA, fanner of the unholy flame. When ['S]IVA by her penance won has led HIMÁLAYA'S daughter to her bridal bed, His bliss to KÁMA shall the God repay, And give again the form he snatched away. Thus did the gracious God, at JUSTICE' prayer, The term of LOVE'S sad punishment declare. The Gods, like clouds, are fierce and gentle too, Now hurl the bolt, now drop sweet heavenly dew. Live, widowed lady, for thy lover's arms Shall clasp again--oh, fondly clasp--thy charms. In summer-heat the streamlet dies away Beneath the fury of the God of Day: Then, in due season, comes the pleasant rain, And all is fresh, and fair, and full again." Thus breathed the spirit from the viewless air, And stilled the raging of her wild despair; While SPRING consoled with every soothing art, Cheered by that voice from heaven, the mourner's heart, Who watched away the hours, so sad and slow, That brought the limit of her weary woe, As the pale moon, quenched by the conquering light Of garish day, longs for its own dear night. _CANTO FIFTH._ Canto Fifth. _UMÁ'S REWARD._ Now woe to UMÁ, for young Love is slain, Her Lord hath left her, and her hope is vain. Woe, woe to UMÁ! how the Mountain-Maid Cursed her bright beauty for its feeble aid! 'Tis Beauty's guerdon which she loves the best, To bless her lover, and in turn be blest. Penance must aid her now--or how can she Win the cold heart of that stern deity? Penance, long penance: for that power alone Can make such love, so high a Lord, her own. But, ah! how troubled was her mother's brow At the sad tidings of the mourner's vow! She threw her arms around her own dear maid, Kissed, fondly kissed her, sighed, and wept, and prayed: "Are there no Gods, my child, to love thee here? Frail is thy body, yet thy vow severe. The lily, by the wild bee scarcely stirred, Bends, breaks, and dies beneath the weary bird." Fast fell her tears, her prayer was strong, but still That prayer was weaker than her daughter's will. Who can recall the torrent's headlong force, Or the bold spirit in its destined course? She sent a maiden to her sire, and prayed He for her sake would grant some bosky shade, That she might dwell in solitude, and there Give all her soul to penance and to prayer. In gracious love the great HIMÁLAYA smiled, And did the bidding of his darling child. Then to that hill which peacocks love she came, Known to all ages by the lady's name. Still to her purpose resolutely true, Her string of noble pearls aside she threw, Which, slipping here and there, had rubbed away The sandal dust that on her bosom lay, And clad her in a hermit coat of bark, Rough to her gentle limbs, and gloomy dark, Pressing too tightly, till her swelling breast Broke into freedom through the unwonted vest. Her matted hair was full as lovely now As when 'twas braided o'er her polished brow. Thus the sweet beauties of the lotus shine When bees festoon it in a graceful line; And, though the tangled weeds that crown the rill Cling o'er it closely, it is lovely still. With zone of grass the votaress was bound, Which reddened the fair form it girdled round: Never before the lady's waist had felt The ceaseless torment of so rough a belt. Alas! her weary vow has caused to fade The lovely colours that adorned the maid. Pale is her hand, and her long finger-tips Steal no more splendour from her paler lips, Or, from the ball which in her play would rest, Made bright and fragrant, on her perfumed breast. Rough with the sacred grass those hands must be, And worn with resting on her rosary. Cold earth her couch, her canopy the skies, Pillowed upon her arm the lady lies: She who before was wont to rest her head In the soft luxury of a sumptuous bed, Vext by no troubles as she slumbered there, But sweet flowers slipping from her loosened hair. The maid put off, but only for awhile, Her passioned glances and her witching smile. She lent the fawn her moving, melting gaze, And the fond creeper all her winning ways. The trees that blossomed on that lonely mount She watered daily from the neighbouring fount: If she had been their nursing mother, she Could not have tended them more carefully. Not e'en her boy--her own bright boy--shall stay Her love for them: her first dear children they. Her gentleness had made the fawns so tame, To her kind hand for fresh sweet grain they came, And let the maid before her friends compare Her own with eyes that shone as softly there. Then came the hermits of the holy wood To see the votaress in her solitude; Grey elders came; though young the maid might seem, Her perfect virtue must command esteem. They found her resting in that lonely spot, The fire was kindled, and no rite forgot. In hermit's mantle was she clad; her look Fixt in deep thought upon the Holy Book. So pure that grove: all war was made to cease, And savage monsters lived in love and peace. Pure was that grove: each newly built abode Had leafy shrines where fires of worship glowed. But far too mild her penance, UMÁ thought, To win from heaven the lordly meed she sought. She would not spare her form, so fair and frail, If sterner penance could perchance prevail. Oft had sweet pastime wearied her, and yet Fain would she match in toil the anchoret. Sure the soft lotus at her birth had lent Dear UMÁ'S form its gentle element; But gold, commingled with her being, gave That will so strong, so beautifully brave. Full in the centre of four blazing piles Sate the fair lady of the winning smiles, While on her head the mighty God of Day Shot all the fury of his summer ray; Yet her fixt gaze she turned upon the skies, And quenched his splendour with her brighter eyes. To that sweet face, though scorched by rays from heaven, Still was the beauty of the lotus given, Yet, worn by watching, round those orbs of light A blackness gathered like the shades of night. She cooled her dry lips in the bubbling stream, And lived on Amrit from the pale moon-beam, Sometimes in hunger culling from the tree The rich ripe fruit that hung so temptingly. Scorched by the fury of the noon-tide rays, And fires that round her burned with ceaseless blaze, Summer passed o'er her: rains of Autumn came And throughly drenched the lady's tender frame. So steams the earth, when mighty torrents pour On thirsty fields all dry and parched before. The first clear rain-drops falling on her brow, Gem it one moment with their light, and now Kissing her sweet lip find a welcome rest In the deep valley of the lady's breast; Then wander broken by the fall within The mazy channels of her dimpled skin. There as she lay upon her rocky bed, No sumptuous roof above her gentle head, Dark Night, her only witness, turned her eyes, Red lightnings flashing from the angry skies, And gazed upon her voluntary pain, In wind, in sleet, in thunder, and in rain. Still lay the maiden on the cold damp ground, Though blasts of winter hurled their snows around, Still pitying in her heart the mournful fate Of those poor birds, so fond, so desolate,-- Doomed, hapless pair, to list each other's moan Through the long hours of night, sad and alone. Chilled by the rain, the tender lotus sank: She filled its place upon the streamlet's bank. Sweet was her breath as when that lovely flower Sheds its best odour in still evening's hour. Red as its leaves her lips of coral hue: Red as those quivering leaves they quivered too. Of all stern penance it is called the chief To nourish life upon the fallen leaf. But even this the ascetic maiden spurned, And for all time a glorious title earned. APARNÁ--Lady of the unbroken fast-- Have sages called her, saints who knew the past. Fair as the lotus fibres, soft as they, In these stern vows she passed her night and day. No mighty anchoret had e'er essayed The ceaseless penance of this gentle maid. There came a hermit: reverend was he As Bráhmanhood's embodied sanctity. With coat of skin, with staff and matted hair, His face was radiant, and he spake her fair. Up rose the maid the holy man to greet, And humbly bowed before the hermit's feet. Though meditation fill the pious breast, It finds a welcome for a glorious guest: The sage received the honour duly paid, And fixed his earnest gaze upon the maid. While through her frame unwonted vigour ran, Thus, in his silver speech, the blameless saint began: "How can thy tender frame, sweet lady, bear In thy firm spirit's task its fearful share? Canst thou the grass and fuel duly bring, And still unwearied seek the freshening spring? Say, do the creeper's slender shoots expand, Seeking each day fresh water from thy hand, Till like thy lip each ruddy tendril glows, That lip which, faded, still outreds the rose? With loving glance the timid fawns draw nigh: Say dost thou still with joy their wants supply? For thee, O lotus-eyed, their glances shine, Mocking the brightness of each look of thine. O Mountain-Lady, it is truly said That heavenly charms to sin have never led, For even penitents may learn of thee How pure, how gentle Beauty's self may be. Bright GANGÁ falling with her heavenly waves, HIMÁLAYA'S head with sacred water laves, Bearing the flowers the seven great Sages fling To crown the forehead of the Mountain-King. Yet do thy deeds, O bright-haired maiden, shed A richer glory round his awful head. Purest of motives, Duty leads thy heart: Pleasure and gain therein may claim no part. O noble maid, the wise have truly said That friendship soon in gentle heart is bred. Seven steps together bind the lasting tie: Then bend on me, dear Saint, a gracious eye. Fain, lovely UMÁ, would a Bráhman learn What noble guerdon would thy penance earn. Say, art thou toiling for a second birth, Where dwells the great Creator? O'er the earth Resistless sway? Or fair as Beauty's Queen, Peerless, immortal, shall thy form be seen? The lonely soul bowed down by grief and pain, By penance' aid some gracious boon may gain. But what, O faultless one, can move thy heart To dwell in solitude and prayer apart? Why should the cloud of grief obscure thy brow, 'Mid all thy kindred, who so loved as thou? Foes hast thou none: for what rash hand would dare From serpent's head the magic gem to tear? Why dost thou seek the hermit's garb to try, Thy silken raiment and thy gems thrown by? As though the sun his glorious state should leave, Rayless to harbour 'mid the shades of eve. Wouldst thou win heaven by thy holy spells? Already with the Gods thy father dwells. A husband, lady? O forbear the thought, A priceless jewel seeks not, but is sought. Maiden, thy deep sighs tell me it is so; Yet, doubtful still, my spirit seeks to know Couldst thou e'er love in vain? What heart so cold That hath not eagerly its worship told? Ah! could the cruel loved one, thou fair maid, Look with cold glances on that bright hair's braid? Thy locks are hanging loosely o'er thy brow, Thine ear is shaded by no lotus now. See, where the sun hath scorched that tender neck Which precious jewels once were proud to deck. Still gleams the line where they were wont to cling, As faintly shows the moon's o'ershadowed ring. Now sure thy loved one, vain in beauty's pride, Dreamed of himself when wandering at thy side, Or he would count him blest to be the mark Of that dear eye, so soft, so lustrous dark. But, gentle UMÁ, let thy labour cease; Turn to thy home, fair Saint, and rest in peace. By many a year of penance duly done Rich store of merit has my labour won. Take then the half, thy secret purpose name; Nor in stern hardships wear thy tender frame." The holy Bráhman ceased: but UMÁ'S breast In silence heaved, by love and fear opprest. In mute appeal she turned her languid eye, Darkened with weeping, not with softening dye, To bid her maiden's friendly tongue declare The cherished secret of her deep despair: "Hear, holy Father, if thou still wouldst know, Why her frail form endures this pain and woe, As the soft lotus makes a screen to stay The noontide fury of the God of Day. Proudly disdaining all the blest above, With heart and soul she seeks for ['S]IVA'S love. For him alone, the Trident-wielding God, The thorny paths of penance hath she trod. But since that mighty one hath KÁMA slain, Vain every hope, and every effort vain. E'en as life fled, a keen but flowery dart Young LOVE, the Archer, aimed at ['S]IVA'S heart. The God in anger hurled the shaft away, But deep in UMÁ'S tender soul it lay; Alas, poor maid! she knows no comfort now, Her soul's on fire, her wild locks hide her brow. She quits her father's halls, and frenzied roves The icy mountain and the lonely groves. Oft as the maidens of the minstrel throng To hymn great ['S]IVA'S praises raised the song, The lovelorn lady's sobs and deep-drawn sighs Drew tears of pity from their gentle eyes. Wakeful and fevered in the dreary night Scarce closed her eyes, and then in wild affright Rang through the halls her very bitter cry, "God of the azure neck, why dost thou fly?" While their soft bands her loving arms would cast Hound the dear vision fading all too fast. Her skilful hand, with true love-guided art, Had traced the image graven on her heart. "Art thou all present? Dost thou fail to see Poor UMÁ'S anguish and her love for thee?" Thus oft in frenzied grief her voice was heard, Chiding the portrait with reproachful word. Long thus in vain for ['S]IVA'S love she strove, Then turned in sorrow to this holy grove. Since the sad maid hath sought these forest glades To hide her grief amid the dreary shades, The fruit hath ripened on the spreading bough; But ah! no fruit hath crowned her holy vow. Her faithful friends alone must ever mourn To see that beauteous form by penance worn, But oh! that ['S]IVA would some favour deign, As INDRA pitieth the parching plain!" The maiden ceased: his secret joy dissembling, The Bráhman turned to UMÁ pale and trembling: "And is it thus, or doth the maiden jest? Is this the darling secret of thy breast?" Scarce could the maid her choking voice command, Or clasp her rosary with quivering hand: "O holy Sage, learned in the Vedas' lore, 'Tis even thus. Great ['S]IVA I adore. Thus would my steadfast heart his love obtain, For this I gladly bear the toil and pain. Surely the strong desire, the earnest will, May win some favour from his mercy still." "Lady," cried he, "that mighty Lord I know; Ever his presence bringeth care and woe. And wouldst thou still a second time prepare The sorrows of his fearful life to share? Deluded maid, how shall thy tender hand, Decked with the nuptial bracelet's jewelled band, Be clasped in his, when fearful serpents twine In scaly horror round that arm divine? How shall thy robe, with gay flamingoes gleaming, Suit with his coat of hide with blood-drops streaming? Of old thy pathway led where flowerets sweet Made pleasant carpets for thy gentle feet. And e'en thy foes would turn in grief away To see these vermeil-tinted limbs essay, Where scattered tresses strew the mournful place, Their gloomy path amid the tombs to trace. On ['S]IVA'S heart the funeral ashes rest, Say, gentle lady, shall they stain thy breast, Where the rich tribute of the Sandal trees Sheds a pure odour on the amorous breeze? A royal bride returning in thy state, The king of elephants should bear thy weight. How wilt thou brook the mockery and the scorn When thou on ['S]IVA'S bull art meanly borne? Sad that the crescent moon his crest should be: And shall that mournful fate be shared by thee? His crest, the glory of the evening skies, His bride, the moonlight of our wondering eyes! Deformed is he, his ancestry unknown; By vilest garb his poverty is shown. O fawn-eyed lady, how should ['S]IVA gain That heart for which the glorious strive in vain No charms hath he to win a maiden's eye: Cease from thy penance, hush the fruitless sigh! Unmeet is he thy faithful heart to share, Child of the Mountain, maid of beauty rare! Not 'mid the gloomy tombs do sages raise The holy altar of their prayer and praise." Impatient UMÁ listened: the quick blood Rushed to her temples in an angry flood. Her quivering lip, her darkly-flashing eye Told that the tempest of her wrath was nigh. Proudly she spoke: "How couldst thou tell aright Of one like ['S]IVA, perfect, infinite? 'Tis ever thus, the mighty and the just Are scorned by souls that grovel in the dust. Their lofty goodness and their motives wise Shine all in vain before such blinded eyes. Say who is greater, he who strives for power, Or he who succours in misfortune's hour? Refuge of worlds, O how should ['S]IVA deign To look on men enslaved to paltry gain? The spring of wealth himself, he careth naught For the vile treasures that mankind have sought. His dwelling-place amid the tombs may be, Yet Monarch of the three great worlds is he. What though no love his outward form may claim, The stout heart trembles at his awful name. Who can declare the wonders of his might? The Trident-wielding God, who knows aright? Whether around him deadly serpents twine, Or if his jewelled wreaths more brightly shine; Whether in rough and wrinkled hide arrayed, Or silken robe, in glittering folds displayed; If on his brow the crescent moon he bear, Or if a shrunken skull be withering there; The funeral ashes touched by him acquire The glowing lustre of eternal fire; Falling in golden showers, the heavenly maids Delight to pour them on their shining braids. What though no treasures fill his storehouse full, What though he ride upon his horned bull, Not e'en may INDRA in his pride withhold The lowly homage that is his of old, But turns his raging elephant to meet His mighty Lord, and bows before his feet, Right proud to colour them rich rosy red With the bright flowers that deck his prostrate head. Thy slanderous tongue proclaims thy evil mind, Yet in thy speech one word of truth we find. Unknown thou call'st him: how should mortal man Count when the days of BRAHMÁ'S Lord began? But cease these idle words: though all be true, His failings many and his virtues few, Still clings my heart to him, its chosen lord, Nor fails nor falters at thy treacherous word. Dear maiden, bid yon eager boy depart: Why should the slanderous tale defile his heart? Most guilty who the faithless speech begins, But he who stays to listen also sins." She turned away: with wrath her bosom swelling, Its vest of bark in angry pride repelling: But sudden, lo, before her wondering eyes In altered form she sees the sage arise; 'Tis ['S]IVA'S self before the astonished maid, In all his gentlest majesty displayed. She saw, she trembled, like a river's course, Checked for a moment in its onward force, By some huge rock amid the torrent hurled Where erst the foaming waters madly curled. One foot uplifted, shall she turn away? Unmoved the other, shall the maiden stay? The silver moon on ['S]IVA'S forehead shone, While softly spake the God in gracious tone: "O gentle maiden, wise and true of soul, Lo, now I bend beneath thy sweet control. Won by thy penance, and thy holy vows, Thy willing slave ['S]IVA before thee bows." He spake, and rushing through her languid frame, At his dear words returning vigour came. She knew but this, that all her cares were o'er, Her sorrows ended, she should weep no more! _CANTO SIXTH._ Canto Sixth. _UMÁ'S ESPOUSALS._ Now gentle UMÁ bade a damsel bear To ['S]IVA, Soul of All, her maiden prayer: "Wait the high sanction of HIMÁLAYA'S will, And ask his daughter from the royal hill." Then ere the God, her own dear Lord, replied, In blushing loveliness she sought his side. Thus the young mango hails the approaching spring By its own tuneful bird's sweet welcoming. In UMÁ'S ear he softly whispered, yea, Then scarce could tear him from her arms away. Swift with a thought he summoned from above The Seven bright Saints to bear his tale of love. They came, and She, the Heavenly Dame, was there, Lighting with glories all the radiant air; Just freshly bathed in sacred GANGÁ'S tide, Gemmed with the dancing flowers that deck her side, And richly scented with the nectarous rill That heavenly elephants from their brows distil. Fair strings of pearl their radiant fingers hold, Clothed are their limbs in hermit-coats of gold; Their rosaries, large gems of countless price, Shone like the fruit that glows in Paradise, As though the glorious trees that blossom there Had sought the forest for a life of prayer. With all his thousand beams the God of Day, Urging his coursers down the sloping way, His banner furled at the approach of night, Looks up in reverence on those lords of light. Ancient creators: thus the wise, who know, Gave them a name in ages long ago: With BRAHMÁ joining in creation's plan, And perfecting the work His will began; Still firm in penance, though the hermit-vow Bears a ripe harvest for the sages now. Brightest in glory 'mid that glorious band See the fair Queen, the Heavenly Lady, stand. Fixing her loving eyes upon her spouse, She seemed sent forth to crown the sage's vows With sweet immortal joy, the dearest prize Strong prayer could merit from the envious skies. With equal honour on the Queen and all Did the kind glance of ['S]IVA'S welcome fall. No partial favour by the good is shown: They count not station, but the deed alone. So fair she shone upon his raptured view, He longed for wedlock's heavenly pleasures too. What hath such power to lead the soul above By virtue's pleasant path as wedded love! Scarce had the holy motive lent its aid To knit great ['S]IVA to the Mountain-Maid, When KÁMA'S spirit that had swooned in fear Breathed once again and deemed forgiveness near. The ancient Sages reverently adored The world's great Father and its Sovran Lord, And while a soft ecstatic thrilling ran O'er their celestial frames, they thus began: "Glorious the fruit our holy studies bear, Our constant penance, sacrifice and prayer. For that high place within thy thoughts we gain Which fancy strives to reach, but longs in vain. How blest is he, the glory of the wise, Deep in whose thoughtful breast thy Godhead lies! But who may tell his joy who rests enshrined, O BRAHMÁ'S great Creator, in thy mind! We dwell on high above the cold moon's ray; Beneath our mansion glows the God of Day, But now thy favour lends us brighter beams, Blest with thy love our star unchanging gleams. How should we tell what soul-entrancing bliss Enthrals our spirit at an hour like this? Great Lord of All, thou Soul of Life indwelling, We crave one word thy wondrous nature telling. Though to our eyes thy outward form be shown, How can we know thee as thou shouldst be known? In this thy present shape, we pray thee, say Dost thou create? dost thou preserve or slay? But speak thy wish; called from our starry rest We wait, O ['S]IVA, for our Lord's behest" Then answered thus the Lord of glory, while Flashed from his dazzling teeth so white a smile, The moon that crowned him poured a larger stream Of living splendour from that pearly gleam: "Ye know, great Sages of a race divine, No selfish want e'er prompts a deed of mine. Do not the forms--eight varied forms--I wear, The truth of this to all the world declare? Now, as that thirsty bird that drinks the rain Prays the kind clouds of heaven to soothe its pain, So the Gods pray me, trembling 'neath their foe, To send a child of mine and end their woe. I seek the Mountain-Maiden as my bride: Our hero son shall tame the demon's pride. Thus the priest bids the holy fire arise, Struck from the wood to aid the sacrifice. Go, ask HIMÁLAYA for the lovely maid: Blest are those bridals which the holy aid. So shall more glorious honours gild my name, And win the father yet a prouder fame. Nor, O ye heavenly Sages, need I teach What for the maiden's hand shall be your speech, For still the wise in worthiest honour hold The rules and precepts ye ordained of old. This Lady too shall aid your mission there: Best for such task a skilful matron's care. And now, my heralds, to your task away, Where proud HIMÁLAYA holds his royal sway; Then meet me where this mighty torrent raves Down the steep channel with its headlong waves." Thus while that holiest One his love confessed, The hermits listened: from each saintly breast Fled the false shame that yet had lingered there, And love and wedlock showed divinely fair. On through the heaven, o'er tracts of swordlike blue, Towards the gay city, swift as thought, they flew, Bright with high domes and palaces most fair, As if proud ALAKÁ were planted there, Or PARADISE poured forth, in showers that bless, The rich o'erflowings of its loveliness. Round lofty towers adorned with gems and gold Her guardian stream the holy GANGÁ rolled. On every side, the rampart's glowing crown, Bright wreaths of fragrant flowers hung waving down,-- Flowers that might tempt the maids of heavenly birth To linger fondly o'er that pride of earth. Its noble elephants, unmoved by fear, The distant roaring of the lions hear. In beauty peerless, and unmatched in speed, Its thousand coursers of celestial breed. Through the broad streets bright sylphs and minstrels rove: Its dames are Goddesses of stream and grove. Hark! the drum echoes louder and more loud From glittering halls whose spires are wrapt in cloud. It were the thunder, but that voice of fear Falls not in measured time upon the ear. 'Tis balmy cool, for many a heavenly tree, With quivering leaves and branches waving free, Sheds a delightful freshness through the air,-- Fans which no toil of man has stationed there. The crystal chambers where they feast at night Flash back the beamings of the starry light. So brightly pure that silver gleam is shed, Playing so fondly round each beauteous head, That all seem gifted from those lights above With richest tokens of superior love. How blest its maidens! cloudless is their day, And radiant herbs illume their nightly way. No term of days, but endless youth they know; No Death save him who bears the Flowery Bow: Their direst swoon, their only frenzy this-- The trance of love, the ecstasy of bliss! Ne'er can their lovers for one hour withstand The frown, the quivering lip, the scornful hand; But seek forgiveness of the angry fair, And woo her smile with many an earnest prayer. Around, wide gardens spread their pleasant bowers, Where the bright Champac opes her fragrant flowers: Dear shades, beloved by the sylphs that roam In dewy evening from their mountain home. Ah! why should mortals fondly strive to gain Heaven and its joys by ceaseless toil and pain? E'en the Saints envied as their steps drew near, And owned a brighter heaven was opened here. They lighted down; braided was each long tress, Bright as the pictured flame, as motionless. HIMÁLAYA'S palace-warders in amaze On the Seven Sages turned their eager gaze,-- A noble company of celestial race Where each in order of his years had place,-- Glorious, as when the sun, his head inclining, Sees his own image 'mid the waters shining. To greet them with a gift HIMÁLAYA sped, Earth to her centre shaking at his tread. By his dark lips with mountain metals dyed, His arms like pines that clothe his lofty side: By his proud stature, by his stony breast, Lord of the Snowy Hills he stood confest. On to his Council-hall he led the way, Nor failed due honour to the Saints to pay. On couch of reed the Monarch bade them rest, And thus with uplift hands those Heavenly Lords addressed: "Like soft rain falling from a cloudless sky, Or fruit, when bloom has failed to glad the eye, So are ye welcome, Sages; thus I feel Ecstatic thrilling o'er my spirit steal, Changed, like dull senseless iron to burning gold, Or some rapt creature, when the heavens unfold To eyes yet dim with tears of earthly care, The rest, the pleasures, and the glory there. Long pilgrim bands from this auspicious day To my pure hill shall bend their constant way. Famed shall it be o'er all the lands around, For where the good have been is holy ground. Now am I doubly pure, for GANGÁ'S tide Falls on my head from heaven and laves my side. Henceforth I boast a second stream as sweet, The water, Sages, that has touched your feet. Twice by your favour is HIMÁLAYA blest,-- This towery mountain that your feet have prest, And this my moving form is happier still To wait your bidding, to perform your will. These mighty limbs that fill the heaven's expanse Sink down, o'erpowered, in a blissful trance. So bright your presence, at the glorious sight My brooding shades of darkness turn to light. The gloom that haunts my mountain caverns flies, And cloudy passion in the spirit dies. O say, if here your arrowy course ye sped To throw fresh glory round my towering head. Surely your wish, ye Mighty Ones, can crave No aid, no service from your willing slave. Yet deem me worthy of some high behest: The lord commandeth, and the slave is blest. Declare your pleasure, then, bright heavenly band: We crave no guerdon but your sole command. Yours are we all, HIMÁLAYA and his bride, And this dear maiden child our hope and pride." Not once he spake: his cavern mouths around In hollow echoings gave again the sound. Of all who speak beyond compare the best, ANGIRAS answered at the Saints' request: "This power hast thou, great King, and mightier far, Thy mind is lofty as thy summits are. Sages say truly, VISH[N.]U is thy name: His spirit breatheth in thy mountain frame. Within the caverns of thy boundless breast All things that move and all that move not rest. How on his head so soft, so delicate, Could the great Snake uphold the huge earth's weight, Did not thy roots, far-reaching down to hell, Bear up the burden and assist him well? Thy streams of praise, thy pure rills' ceaseless flow Make glad the nations wheresoe'er they go, Till, shedding purity on every side, They sink at length in boundless Ocean's tide. Blest is fair GANGÁ, for her heavenly stream Flows from the feet of him that sits supreme; And blest once more, O mighty Hill, is she That her bright waters spring anew from thee. Vast grew his body when the avenging God In three huge strides o'er all creation trod. Above, below, his form increased, but thou Wast ever glorious and as vast as now. By thee is famed SUMERU forced to hide His flashing rays and pinnacles of pride, For thou hast won thy station in the skies 'Mid the great Gods who claim the sacrifice. Firm and unmoved remains thy lofty hill, Yet thou canst bow before the holy still. Now--for the glorious work will fall on thee,-- Hear thou the cause of this our embassy. We also, Mountain Monarch, since we bear To thee the message, in the labour share. The Highest, Mightiest, Noblest One, adored By the proud title of our Sovran Lord: The crescent moon upon his brow bears he, And wields the wondrous powers of Deity. He in this earth and varied forms displayed, Bound each to other by exchange of aid, Guides the great world and all the things that are, As flying coursers whirl the glittering car. Him good men seek with holy thought and prayer, Who fills their breast and makes his dwelling there. When saints, we read, his lofty sphere attain, They ne'er may fall to this base earth again: His messengers, great King, we crave the hand Of thy fair daughter at the God's command. At such blest union, as of TRUTH and VOICE, A father's heart should grieve not, but rejoice. Her Lord is Father of the world, and she Of all that liveth shall the mother be. Gods that adore him with the Neck of Blue In homage bent shall hail the Lady too, And give a glory to her feet with gems That sparkle in their priceless diadems. Hear what a roll shall blazon forth thy line,-- Maid, Father, Suitor, Messengers divine! Give him the chosen lady, and aspire To call thy son the Universe's Sire, Who laudeth none, but all mankind shall raise To Him through endless time the songs of praise." Thus while he spake the lady bent her head To hide her cheek, now blushing rosy red, And numbered o'er with seeming care the while Her lotus' petals in sweet maiden guile. With pride and joy HIMÁLAYA'S heart beat high, Yet ere he spake he looked to MENÁ'S eye: Full well he knew a mother's gentle care Learns her child's heart and love's deep secret there, And this the hour, he felt, when fathers seek Her eye for answer or her changing cheek. His eager look HIMÁLAYA scarce had bent When MENÁ'S eye beamed back her glad assent. O gentle wives! your fondest wish is still To have with him you love one heart, one will. He threw his arms around the blushing maid In queenly garment and in gems arrayed, Awhile was silent, then in rapture cried, "Come, O my daughter! Come, thou destined bride Of ['S]IVA, Lord of All: this glorious band Of Saints have sought thee at the God's command; And I thy sire this happy day obtain The best reward a father's wish would gain." Then to the Saints he cried: "Pure Hermits, see The spouse of ['S]IVA greets your company." They looked in rapture on the maid, and poured Their fullest blessing on her heavenly lord. So low she bowed, the gems that decked her hair And sparkled in her ear fell loosened there; Then with sweet modesty and joy opprest She hid her blushes on the Lady's breast, Who cheered the mother weeping for her child, Her own dear UMÁ, till again she smiled: Such bliss and glory should be hers above, Yea, mighty ['S]IVA'S undivided love. They named the fourth for UMÁ'S nuptial day; Then sped the Sages on their homeward way; And thanked by ['S]IVA with a gracious eye Sought their bright rest amid the stars on high. Through all those weary days the lover sighed To wind his fond arms round his gentle bride. Oh, if the Lord of Heaven could find no rest, Think, think how Love, strong Love, can tear a mortal's breast! _CANTO SEVENTH._ Canto Seventh. _UMÁ'S BRIDAL._ In light and glory dawned the expected day Blest with a kindly star's auspicious ray, When gaily gathered at HIMÁLAYA'S call His kinsmen to the solemn festival. Through the broad city every dame's awake To grace the bridal for her monarch's sake; So great their love for him, this single care Makes one vast household of the thousands there. Heaven is not brighter than the royal street Where flowers lie scattered 'neath the nobles' feet, And banners waving to the breeze unfold Their silken broidery over gates of gold. And she, their child, upon her bridal day Bears her dear parents' every thought away. So, when from distant shores a friend returns, With deeper love each inmost spirit burns. So, when grim Death restores his prey again Joy brighter shines from memory of pain. Each noble matron of HIMÁLAYA'S race Folds his dear UMÁ in a long embrace, Pours blessings on her head, and prays her take Some priceless jewel for her friendship's sake. With sweetest influence a star of power Had joined the spotted moon: at that blest hour To deck fair UMÁ many a noble dame And many a gentle maid assiduous came. And well she graced their toil, more brightly fair With feathery grass and wild flowers in her hair. A silken robe flowed free below her waist; Her sumptuous head a glittering arrow graced. So shines the young unclouded moon at last, Greeting the sun, its darksome season past. Sweet-scented Lodhra dust and Sandal dyed The delicate beauties of the fair young bride, Veiled with a soft light robe. Her tiring-girls Then led her to a chamber decked with pearls And paved with sapphires, where the lulling sound Of choicest music breathed divinely round. There o'er the lady's limbs they poured by turns Streams of pure water from their golden urns. Fresh from the cooling bath the lovely maid In fairest white her tender form arrayed. So opens the Kása all her shining flowers Lured from their buds by softly falling showers. Then to a court with canopies o'erhead A crowd of noble dames the maiden led-- A court for solemn rites, where gems and gold Adorn the pillars that the roof uphold. There on a couch they set her with her face Turned toward the east. So lovely then the grace Of that dear maid, so ravishing her smile, E'en her attendants turned to gaze awhile; For though the brightest gems around her lay, Her brighter beauty stole their eyes away. Through her long tresses one a chaplet wound, And one with fragrant grass her temples crowned, While o'er her head sweet clouds of incense rolled To try and perfume every shining fold. Bright dyes of saffron and the scented wood Adorned her beauty, till the maiden stood Fairer than GANGÁ when the Love-birds play O'er sandy islets in her silvery bay. To what rare beauty shall her maids compare Her clear brow shaded by her glossy hair? Less dazzling pure the lovely lotus shines Flecked by the thronging bees in dusky lines. Less bright the moon, when a dark band of cloud Enhances beauties which it cannot shroud. Behind her ear a head of barley drew The eye to gaze upon its golden hue. But then her cheek, with glowing saffron dyed, To richer beauty called the glance aside. Though from those lips, where Beauty's guerdon lay, The vermeil tints were newly washed away, Yet o'er them, as she smiled, a ray was thrown Of quivering brightness that was all their own. "Lay this dear foot upon thy lover's head Crowned with the moon," the laughing maiden said, Who dyed her lady's feet--no word spake she, But beat her with her wreath in playful glee. Then tiring-women took the jetty dye To guard, not deck, the beauty of her eye, Whose languid half-shut glances might compare With lotus leaves just opening to the air; And as fresh gems adorned her neck and arms, So quickly changing grew the maiden's charms, Like some fair plant where bud succeeding bud Unfolds new beauty; or a silver flood Where gay birds follow quickly; or like night, When crowding stars come forth in all their light. Oft as the mirror would her glance beguile She longed to meet her Lord's approving smile. Her tasteful skill the timid maid essays To win one smile of love, one word of praise. The happy mother took the golden dye And raised to hers young UMÁ'S beaming eye. Then swelled her bosom with maternal pride As thus she decked her darling for a bride. Oh, she had longed to trace on that fair brow The nuptial line, yet scarce could mark it now. On UMÁ'S rounded arm the woollen band Was fixt securely by the nurse's hand. Blind with the tears that filled her swimming eye, In vain the mother strove that band to tie. Spotless as curling foam-flakes stood she there, As yielding soft, as graceful and as fair: Or like the glory of an autumn night Robed by the full moon in a veil of light. Then at her mother's hest, the maid adored The spirit of each high ancestral lord, Nor failed she next the noble dames to greet, And give due honour to their reverend feet. They raised the maiden as she bowed her head: "Thine be the fulness of his love!" they said. Half of his being, blessing high as this Can add no rapture to her perfect bliss. Well-pleased HIMÁLAYA viewed the pomp and pride Meet for his daughter, meet for ['S]IVA'S bride; Then sought the hall with all his friends to wait The bridegroom's coming with a monarch's state. Meanwhile by heavenly matrons' care displayed Upon KUVERA'S lofty mount were laid The ornaments of ['S]IVA, which of yore At his first nuptials the bridegroom wore. He laid his hand upon the dress, but how Shall robes so sad, so holy, grace him now? His own dire vesture took a shape as fair As gentle bridegroom's heart could wish to wear. The withering skull that glazed the eye with dread, Shone a bright coronal to grace his head. That elephant's hide the God had worn of old Was now a silken robe inwrought with gold. Ere this his body was with dust besprent: With unguent now it shed delightful scent; And that mid-eye which glittering like a star Shot the wild terror of its glance afar-- So softly now its golden radiance beamed-- A mark of glory on his forehead seemed. His twining serpents, destined still to be The pride and honour of the deity, Changed but their bodies: in each sparkling crest The blazing gems still shone their loveliest. What need of jewels on the brow of Him Who wears the crescent moon? No spot may dim Its youthful beauty, e'en in light of day Shedding the glory of its quenchless ray. Well-pleased the God in all his pride arrayed Saw his bright image mirrored in the blade Of the huge sword they brought; then calmly leant On NANDI'S arm, and toward his bull he went, Whose broad back covered with a tiger's hide Was steep to climb as Mount KAILÁSA'S side. Yet the dread monster humbly shrank for fear, And bowed in reverence as his Lord drew near. The matrons followed him, a saintly throng, Their ear-rings waving as they dashed along: Sweet faces, with such glories round them shed As made the air one lovely lotus bed. On flew those bright ones: KÁLI came behind, The skulls that decked her rattling in the wind: Like the dark rack that scuds across the sky, With herald lightning and the crane's shrill cry. Hark! from the glorious bands that lead the way, Harp, drum, and pipe, and shrilling trumpet's bray, Burst through the sky upon the startled ear And tell the Gods the hour of worship's near. They came; the SUN presents a silken shade Which heaven's own artist for the God had made, Gilding his brows, as though bright GANGÁ rolled Adown his holy head her waves of gold. She in her Goddess-shape divinely fair, And YAMUNÁ, sweet river-Nymph, were there, Fanning their Lord, that fancy still might deem Swans waved their pinions round each Lady of the Stream. E'en BRAHMÁ came, Creator, Lord of Might, And VISH[N.]U glowing from the realms of light. "Ride on," they cried, "thine, thine for ever be The strength, the glory, and the victory." To swell his triumph that high blessing came Like holy oil upon the rising flame. In those Three Persons the one God was shown, Each first in place, each last,--not one alone; Of ['S]IVA, VISH[N.]U, BRAHMÁ, each may be First, second, third, among the Blessed Three. By INDRA led, each world-upholding Lord With folded hands the mighty God adored. In humble robes arrayed, the pomp and pride Of glorious deity they laid aside. They signed to NANDI, and the favourite's hand Guided his eye upon the suppliant band. He spake to VISH[N.]U, and on INDRA smiled, To BRAHMÁ bowed--the lotus' mystic child. On all the hosts of heaven his friendly eye Beamed duly welcome as they crowded nigh. The Seven Great Saints their blessings o'er him shed, And thus in answer, with a smile, he said: "Hail, mighty Sages! hail, ye Sons of Light! My chosen priests to celebrate this rite." Now in sweet tones the heavenly minstrels tell His praise, beneath whose might TRIPURA fell. He moves to go: from his moon-crest a ray Sheds quenchless light on his triumphant way. On through the air his swift bull bore him well, Decked with the gold of many a tinkling bell; Tossing from time to time his head on high, Enwreathed with clouds as he flew racing by, As though in furious charge he had uptorn A bank of clay upon his mighty horn. Swiftly they came where in its beauty lay The city subject to HIMÁLAYA'S sway. No foeman's foot had ever trod those halls, No foreign bands encamped around the walls. Then ['S]IVA'S glances fixed their eager hold On that fair city as with threads of gold. The God whose neck still gleams with cloudy blue Burst on the wondering people's upturned view, And on the earth descended, from the path His shafts once dinted in avenging wrath. Forth from the gates a noble army poured To do meet honour to the mighty Lord. With all his friends on elephants of state The King of Mountains passed the city gate, So gaily decked, the princes all were seen Like moving hills inwrapt in bowery green. As the full rushing of two streams that pour Beneath one bridge with loud tumultuous roar, So through the city's open gate streamed in Mountains and Gods with tumult and with din. So glorious was the sight, wonder and shame, When ['S]IVA bowed him, o'er the Monarch came; He knew not he had bent his lofty crest In reverent greeting to his heavenly guest HIMÁLAYA, joying in the festive day, Before the immortal bridegroom led the way Where heaps of gay flowers burying half the feet Lay breathing odours through the crowded street. Careless of all beside, each lady's eye Must gaze on ['S]IVA as the troop sweeps by. One dark-eyed beauty will not stay to bind Her long black tresses, floating unconfined Save by her little hand; her flowery crown Hanging neglected and unfastened down. One from her maiden tore her foot away On which the dye, all wet and streaming, lay, And o'er the chamber rushing in her haste, Where'er she stepped, a crimson footprint traced. Another at the window takes her stand; One eye is dyed,--the pencil in her hand. Here runs an eager maid, and running, holds Loose and ungirt her flowing mantle's folds, Whilst, as she strives to close the parting vest, Its brightness gives new beauty to her breast. Oh! what a sight! the crowded windows there With eager faces excellently fair, Like sweetest lilies, for their dark eyes fling Quick glances quivering like the wild bee's wing. Onward in peerless glory ['S]IVA passed; Gay banners o'er his way their shadows cast, Each palace dome, each pinnacle and height Catching new lustre from his crest of light. On swept the pageant: on the God alone The eager glances of the dames were thrown; On his bright form they fed the rapturous gaze, And only turned to marvel and to praise: "Oh, well and wisely, such a lord to gain The Mountain-Maid endured the toil and pain. To be his slave were joy; but Oh, how blest The wife--the loved one--lying on his breast! Surely in vain, had not the Lord of Life Matched this fond bridegroom and this loving wife, Had been his wish to give the worlds a mould Of perfect beauty! Falsely have they told How the young flower-armed God was burnt by fire At the red flash of ['S]IVA'S vengeful ire. No: jealous LOVE a fairer form confessed, And cast away his own, no more the loveliest. How glorious is the Mountain King, how proud Earth's stately pillar, girt about with cloud! Now will he lift his lofty head more high, Knit close to ['S]IVA by this holy tie." Such words of praise from many a bright-eyed dame On ['S]IVA'S ear with soothing witchery came. Through the broad streets 'mid loud acclaim he rode, And reached the palace where the King abode. There he descended from his monster's side, As the sun leaves a cloud at eventide. Leaning on VISH[N.]U'S arm he passed the door Where mighty BRAHMÁ entered in before. Next INDRA came, and all the host of heaven, The noble Saints and those great Sages seven. Then led they ['S]IVA to a royal seat; Fair gifts they brought, for such a bridegroom meet: With all due rites, the honey and the milk, Rich gems were offered and two robes of silk. At length by skilful chamberlains arrayed They led the lover to the royal maid. Thus the fond Moon disturbs the tranquil rest Of Ocean glittering with his foamy crest, And leads him on, his proud waves swelling o'er, To leap with kisses on the clasping shore. He gazed on UMÁ. From his lotus eyes Flashed out the rapture of his proud surprise. Then calm the current of his spirit lay Like the world basking in an autumn day. They met; and true love's momentary shame O'er the blest bridegroom and his darling came. Eye looked to eye, but, quivering as they met, Scarce dared to trust the rapturous gazing yet. In the God's hand the priest has duly laid The radiant fingers of the Mountain-Maid, Bright, as if LOVE with his dear sprays of red Had sought that refuge in his hour of dread. From hand to hand the soft infection stole, Till each confessed it in the inmost soul. Fire filled his veins, with joy she trembled; such The magic influence of that thrilling touch. How grows their beauty, when two lovers stand Eye fixt on eye, hand fondly linkt in hand! Then how, unblamed, may mortal minstrel dare To paint in words the beauty of that pair! Around the fire in solemn rite they trod, The lovely lady and the glorious God; Like day and starry midnight when they meet In the broad plains at lofty MERU'S feet. Thrice at the bidding of the priest they came With swimming eyes around the holy flame. Then at his word the bride in order due Into the blazing fire the parched grain threw, And toward her face the scented smoke she drew, Which softly wreathing o'er her fair cheek hung, And round her ears in flower-like beauty clung. As o'er the incense the sweet lady stooped, The ear of barley from her tresses drooped, And rested on her cheek, beneath the eye Still brightly beaming with the jetty dye. "This flame be witness of your wedded life: Be just, thou husband, and be true, thou wife!" Such was the priestly blessing on the bride. Eager she listened, as the earth when dried By parching summer suns drinks deeply in The first soft droppings when the rains begin. "Look, gentle UMÁ," cried her Lord, "afar Seest thou the brightness of yon polar star? Like that unchanging ray thy faith must shine." Sobbing, she whispered, "Yes, for ever thine." The rite is o'er. Her joyful parents now At BRAHMÁ'S feet in duteous reverence bow. Then to fair UMÁ spake the gracious Power Who sits enthroned upon the lotus flower: "O beautiful lady, happy shalt thou be, And hero children shall be born of thee;" Then looked in silence: vain the hope to bless The bridegroom, ['S]IVA, with more happiness. Then from the altar, as prescribed of old, They turned, and rested upon seats of gold; And, as the holy books for men ordain, Were sprinkled duly with the moistened grain. High o'er their heads sweet Beauty's Queen displayed Upon a stem of reed a cool green shade, While the young lotus-leaves of which 'twas made Seemed, as they glistened to the wondering view, All richly pearled with drops of beady dew. In twofold language on each glorious head The Queen of Speech her richest blessings shed; In strong, pure, godlike utterance for his ear, To her in liquid tones, soft, beautifully clear. Now for awhile they gaze where maids divine In graceful play the expressive dance entwine; Whose eloquent motions, with an actor's art, Show to the life the passions of the heart. The rite was ended; then the heavenly band Prayed ['S]IVA, raising high the suppliant hand: "Now, for the dear sake of thy lovely bride, Have pity on the gentle God," they cried, "Whose tender body thy fierce wrath has slain: Give all his honour, all his might again." Well pleased, he smiled, and gracious answer gave: ['S]IVA himself now yields him KÁMA'S slave. When duly given, the great will ne'er despise The gentle pleading of the good and wise. Now have they left the wedded pair alone; And ['S]IVA takes her hand within his own To lead his darling to the bridal bower, Decked with bright gold and all her sumptuous dower. She blushes sweetly as her maidens there Look with arch smiles and glances on the pair; And for one moment, while the damsels stay, From him she loves turns her dear face away. NOTES. _CANTO FIRST._ The Hindú Deity of War, the leader of the celestial armies, is known by the names Kártikeya and Skanda. He is represented with six faces and corresponding arms, and is mounted upon a peacock. _Himálaya._] Mansion of Snow; from _hima_, snow, and _álaya_, mansion. The accent is on the _second_ syllable. _Prithu._] It is said that in the reign of this fabulous monarch, gods, saints, demons, and other supernatural beings, drained or _milked_ from the earth various treasures, appointing severally one of their own class as the recipient, or _Calf_, to use the word of the legend. Himálaya was thus highly favoured by the sacred Mount Meru, and the other hills. The story is found in the sixth chapter of the _Harivansa_, which forms a supplement to the _Mahabhárat_. _Still the fair pearls_, &c.] It was the belief of the Hindús that elephants wore these precious jewels in their heads. _Till heavenly minstrels_, &c.] A class of demi-gods, the songsters of the Hindú Paradise, or Indra's heaven. _There magic herbs_, &c.] Frequent allusion is made by Kálidás and other Sanskrit poets to a phosphoric light emitted by plants at night. _E'en the wild kine_, &c.] The _Chouri_, or long brush, used to whisk off insects and flies, was with the Hindús what the sceptre is with us. It was usually made of the tail-hairs of the _Yak_, or _Bos Grunniens_. Thus the poet represents these animals as doing honour to the Monarch of Mountains with these emblems of sovereignty. _That the bright Seven._] The Hindús call the constellation _Ursa Major_ the seven Rishis, or Saints. They will appear as actors in the course of the poem. _And once when Indra's might._] We learn from the _Rámáyana_ that the mountains were originally furnished with wings, and that they flew through the air with the speed of the wind. For fear lest they should suddenly fall in their flight, Indra, King of the Gods, struck off their pinions with his thunderbolt; but Maináka was preserved from a similar fate by the friendship of Ocean, to whom he fled for refuge. _Born once again_, &c.] The reader will remember the Hindú belief in the Transmigration of Souls. The story alluded to by the poet is this:--"_Daksha_ was the son of _Brahmá_ and father of _Satí_, whom, at the recommendation of the _Rishis_, or Sages, he espoused to _['S]iva_, but he was never wholly reconciled to the uncouth figure and practices of his son-in-law. Having undertaken to celebrate a solemn sacrifice, he invited all the Gods except _['S]iva_, which so incensed _Satí_, that she threw herself into the sacrificial fire."--(Wilson, Specimens of Hindú Theatre, Vol. II. p. 263.) The name of _Satí_, meaning good, true, chaste woman, is the modern _Suttee_, as it is corruptly written. _As the blue offspring of the Turquois Hills._] These hills are placed in Ceylon. The precious stone grows, it is said, at the sound of thunder in the rainy season. _At her stern penance._] This is described in the fifth canto. The meaning of the name Umá is "Oh, do not." _The Gods' bright river._] The celestial Ganges, which falls from heaven upon Himálaya's head, and continues its course on earth. _Young Káma's arrow._] Káma, the Hindú Cupid, is armed with a bow, the arrows of which are made of flowers. _And brighter than A['s]oka's rich leaves._] Nothing, we are told, can exceed the beauty of this tree when in full bloom. It is, of course, a general favourite with the poets of India. _The strings of pearl._] "Then, too, the pearl from out its shell Unsightly, in the sunless sea (As 'twere a spirit, forced to dwell In form unlovely) _was set free_, And round the neck of woman threw _A light it lent and borrowed too_." MOORE--_Loves of the Angels._ Moore is frequently the best interpreter, unconsciously, of an Indian poet's thought. It is worth remarking, that the Sanskrit word _muktá_, pearl (literally _freed_), signifies also the _spirit_ released from mundane existence, and re-integrated with its divine original. _The sweetest note that e'er the Köil poured._] The _Kokila_, or _Köil_, the black or Indian cuckoo, is the bulbul or nightingale of Hindústan. It is also the herald of spring, like its European namesake, and the female bird is the especial messenger of Love. _When holy Nárad._] A divine sage, son of Brahmá. _The holy bull._] The animal on which the God ['S]iva rides, as Indra on the elephant. _Who takes eight various forms._] ['S]iva is called Wearer of the Eight Forms, as being identical with the Five Elements, Mind, Individuality, and Crude Matter. _Where the pale moon on ['S]iva's forehead._] ['S]iva's crest is the new moon, which is sometimes described as forming a third eye in his forehead. We shall find frequent allusions to this in the course of the poem. _CANTO SECOND._ _While impious Tárak._] A demon who, by a long course of austerities, had acquired power even over the Gods. This Hindú notion is familiar to most of us from Southey's "Curse of Keháma." _Whose face turns every way._] Brahmá is represented with four faces, one towards each point of the compass. _The mystic Three._] "The triad of qualities," a philosophical term familiar to all the systems of Hindú speculation. They are thus explained in the _Tattwa Samása_, a text-book of the Sánkhya school:--"Now it is asked, What is the 'triad of qualities'? It is replied, The triad of qualities consists of 'Goodness,' 'Foulness,' and 'Darkness.' By the 'triad of qualities' is meant the 'three qualities.' Goodness is endlessly diversified, accordingly as it is exemplified in calmness, lightness, complacency, attainment of wishes, kindliness, contentment, patience, joy, and the like; summarily, it consists of happiness. 'Foulness' is endlessly diversified, accordingly as it is exemplified in grief, distress, separation, excitement, anxiety, fault-finding, and the like; summarily, it consists of pain. 'Darkness' is endlessly diversified, accordingly as it is exemplified in envelopment, ignorance, disgust, abjectness, heaviness, sloth, drowsiness, intoxication, and the like; summarily, it consists of delusion." _Thou, when a longing_, &c.] "Having divided his own substance, the mighty power became half male, half female, or _nature active and passive_."--_Manu_, Ch. I. So also in the old Orphic hymn it is said, [Greek: Zeus arsên geneto, Zeus ambrotos epleto numphê.] "Zeus was a male; Zeus was a deathless damsel." _The sacred hymns._] Contained in the Vedas, or Holy Scriptures of the Hindús. _The word of praise._] The mystic syllable OM, prefacing all the prayers and most of the writings of the Hindús. It implies the Indian triad, and expresses the Three in One. _They hail thee, Nature._] The object of Nature's activity, according to the Sánkhya system, is "the final liberation of individual soul." "The incompetency of nature, an irrational principle, to institute a course of action for a definite purpose, and the unfitness of rational soul to regulate the acts of an agent whose character it imperfectly apprehends, constitute a principal argument with the theistical Sánkhyas for the necessity of a Providence, to whom the ends of existence are known, and by whom Nature is guided.... The atheistical Sánkhyas, on the other hand, contend that there is no occasion for a guiding Providence, but that the activity of nature, for the purpose of accomplishing soul's object, is an intuitive necessity, as illustrated in the following passage:--As it is a function of milk, an unintelligent (substance), to nourish the calf, so it is the office of the chief principle (nature) to liberate the soul."--Prof. Wilson's _Sánkhya Káriká_. _Hail Thee the stranger Spirit_, &c.] "Soul is witness, solitary, bystander, spectator, passive."--_Sánkh. Kár._ verse xix. _See, Varun's noose._] The God of Water. _Weak is Kuvera's hand._] The God of Wealth. _Yama's sceptre._] The God and Judge of the Dead. _The Lords of Light._] The Ádityas, twelve in number, are forms of the sun, and appear to represent him as distinct in each month of the year. _The Rudras._] A class of demi-gods, eleven in number, said to be inferior manifestations of ['S]iva, who also bears this name. _E'en as on earth_, &c.] Thus the commandment,--Thou shalt not kill, is abrogated by the injunction to kill animals for sacrifice. _The heavenly Teacher._] Vrihaspati, the son of Angiras. _His own dear flower._] The lotus, on which Brahmá is represented reclining. _Their flashing jewels._] According to the Hindú belief, serpents wear precious jewels in their heads. _Chakra._] A discus, or quoit, the weapon of Vishnu. _As water bears to me._] "HE, having willed to produce various beings from his own divine substance, first with a thought created the waters, and placed in them a productive seed."--_Manu_, Ch. I. _Mournful braids._] As a sign of mourning, especially for the loss of their husbands, the Hindústáni women collect their long hair into a braid, called in Sanskrit _ve[n.]i_. _The mango twig._] We shall meet with several allusions to this tree as the favourite of Love and the darling of the bees. _CANTO THIRD._ _Who angers thee, &c._] To understand properly this speech of Káma, it is necessary to be acquainted with some of the Hindú notions regarding a future state. "The highest kind of happiness is absorption into the divine essence, or the return of that portion of spirit which is combined with the attributes of humanity to its original source. This happiness, according to the philosopher, is to be obtained only by the most perfect abstraction from the world and freedom from passion, even while in a state of terrestrial existence.... Besides this ultimate felicity, the Hindús have several minor degrees of happiness, amongst which is the enjoyment of Indra's Swarga, or, in fact, of a Muhammadan Paradise. The degree and duration of the pleasures of this paradise are proportioned to the merits of those admitted to it; and they who have enjoyed this lofty region of Swarga, but whose virtue is exhausted, revisit the habitation of mortals."--Prof. Wilson's _Megha Dúta_. Compare also "The Lord's Song."--_Specimens of Old Indian Poetry_, pp. 67, 68. Indra, therefore, may be supposed to feel jealous whenever a human being aspires to something higher than that heaven of which he is the Lord. The "chain of birth" alluded to is of course the metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls, a belief which is not to be looked upon (says Prof. Wilson in the preface to his edition of the _Sánkhya Káriká_) as a mere popular superstition. It is the main principle of all Hindú metaphysics; it is the foundation of all Hindú philosophy. The great object of their philosophical research in every system, Brahminical or Buddhist, is the discovery of the means of putting a stop to further transmigration; the discontinuance of corporeal being; the liberation of soul from body. _As on that Snake._] Sesha, the Serpent King, is in the Hindú mythology the supporter of the earth, as, in one of the fictions of the Edda,-- "That sea-snake, tremendous curled, Whose monstrous circle girds the world." He is also the couch and canopy of the God Vishnu, or, as he is here called, Krish[n.]a,--that hero being one of his incarnations, and considered identical with the deity himself. _The threefold world._] Earth, heaven, and hell. _His fearful Rati._] The wife of Káma, or Love. _To where Kuvera &c._] The demi-god Kuvera was regent of the north. _Nor waited for the maiden's touch._] Referring to the Hindú notion that the A['s]oka blossoms at the touch of a woman's foot. So Shelley says, "I doubt not, the flowers of that garden sweet Rejoiced in the sound of her gentle feet." _Sensitive Plant._ _Grouping the syllables._] This comparison seems forced rather too far to suit a European taste. Kálidás is not satisfied with calling the mango-spray the Arrow of Love; he must tell us that its leaves are the feathers, and that the bees have marked it with the owner's name. _That loveliest flower._] The Karnikára. _His flowery Tilaka._] The name of a tree; it also means a mark made with coloured earths or unguents upon the forehead and between the eyebrows, either as an ornament or a sectarial distinction; the poet intends the word to convey both ideas at once here. In this passage is another comparison of the mango-spray: it is called the _lip_ of Love; its _rouge_ is the blush of morning, and its darker beautifying powder the clustering bees. From the universal custom of dying the lips, the Sanskrit poets are constantly speaking of their "vermeil tints," &c., as will be sufficiently evident in the course of this work. _The Hermit's servant._] By name Nandi. _His neck of brightly-beaming blue._] An ancient legend tells us that after the deluge the ocean was churned by Gods and demons, in order to recover the Amrit and other treasures that had been lost in it:-- "Then loud and long a joyous sound Rang through the startled sky: 'Hail to the Amrit, lost and found!' A thousand voices cry. But from the wondrous churning streamed A poison fierce and dread, Burning like fire: where'er it streamed Thick noisome mists were spread. The wanting venom onwards went, And filled the Worlds with fear, Till Brahmá to their misery bent His gracious pitying ear; And ['S]iva those destroying streams Drank up at Brahmá's beck. Still in thy throat the dark flood gleams, God of the azure neck!" Specimens of Old Indian Poetry--_Churning of the Ocean._ _Gates of sense._] The eyes, ears, &c. _CANTO FOURTH._ _Late, dim, and joyless shall his rising be._] The Moon, in Hindú mythology, is a male deity. _This line of bees._] Káma's bow is sometimes represented as strung in this extraordinary manner. _And stain this foot._] "Staining the soles of the feet with a red colour, derived from the Mehndee, the Lac, &c., is a favourite practice of the Hindú toilet."--WILSON. _CANTO FIFTH._ _And worn with resting on her rosary._] The Hindús use their rosaries much as we do, carrying them in their hands or on their wrists. As they turn them over, they repeat an inaudible prayer, or the name of the particular deity they worship, as Vish[n.]u or S'iva. The _Rudrákshá málá_ (which we may suppose Umá to have used) is a string of the seeds or berries of the Eleocarpus, and especially dedicated to S'iva. It should contain 108 berries or beads, each of which is fingered with the mental repetition of one of S'iva's 108 appellations. _Not e'en her boy._] Kártikeya, the God of War. _Of those poor birds._] The Chakraváki. These birds are always observed to fly in pairs during the day, but are supposed to remain separate during the night. _That friendship soon in gentle heart is bred._] "Amor in cor gentil ratto s'apprende." DANTE. _CANTO SIXTH._ _The Heavenly Dame._] Arundhatí, wife of one of the Seven Saints. _The Boar._] An Avatár, or incarnation of Vish[n.]u. In this form he preserved the world at the deluge. _That thirsty bird._] The Chátaka, supposed to drink nothing but rain-water. _Proud Alaká._] The capital of Kuvera, the God of Wealth. _The bright Champac._] "The maid of India blest again to hold In her broad lap the Champac's leaves of gold." _Lalla Rookh._ _Angiras._] One of the Seven Saints; the father of Vrihaspati, the teacher of the gods. _Vast grew his body._] Alluding to the Vámana, or Dwarf Avatár of Vish[n.]u, wrought to restrain the pride of the giant Bali, who had expelled the Gods from heaven. In that form he presented himself before the giant, and asked him for three paces of land to build a hut. Bali ridiculed and granted the request. The dwarf immediately grew to a prodigious size, so that he measured the earth with one pace, and the heavens with another. _Sumeru._] Another name of the sacred Mount Meru; or rather the same word, with su, good, prefixed. _CANTO SEVENTH._ _Kailása's side._] A mountain, the fabulous residence of Kuvera, and favourite haunt of S'iva, placed by the Hindús among the Himálayas. _Kalí came behind._] The name of one of the divine matrons. The word also signifies in Sanskrit a row or succession of clouds, suggesting the comparison which follows. _In twofold language._] In Sanskrit and Prakrit. The latter is a softened modification of the former, to which it bears the same relation as Italian to Latin; it is spoken by the female characters of the Hindú drama. THE END. PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. For this text version the Greek letters have been replaced with transliterations in brackets [Greek:] using English alphabet table, without diacritical marks. 3. The following words use accented characters in the original: ['S]iva has S with an acute A['s]oka has s with an acute Vish[n.]u has n with with dot below Krish[n.]a has n with with dot below ve[n.]i has n with with dot below 4. Other than the changes listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have been retained. 
35260	----	Transcriber's Notes: 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. A Table of Contents has been created for this e-text where none existed in the original work. 3. Additional transcriber notes are set out at the end of this e-text and include information on punctuation, spelling and word variation. RUBÁIYÁT OF OMAR KHAYYÁM RENDERED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY _Edward Fitzgerald_ WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY _Edmund Dulac_ [Illustration] DE LUXE EDITION GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING CO., INC. _Garden City, New York_ 1937 GARDEN CITY PUBLISHING CO., INC. CL RUBÁIYÁT OF OMAR KHAYYÁM PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA CONTENTS BIOGRAPHICAL PREFACE EDWARD FITZGERALD ix OMAR KHAYYÁM xxv THE FIRST EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION 39 THE SECOND EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION 79 THE FIFTH EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION 136 VARIATIONS IN THE THIRD EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION 190 ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE QUATRAIN I p. 41 xxxviii QUATRAIN XI p. 46 xxxix QUATRAIN XXIV p. 52 54 QUATRAIN XLII p. 61 55 QUATRAIN LXXII p. 76 86 QUATRAIN XI p. 86 87 QUATRAIN XX p. 90 102 QUATRAIN XLIV p. 102 103 QUATRAIN LXXII p. 116 134 QUATRAIN XIV p. 145 135 QUATRAIN XXXVII p. 157 150 QUATRAIN XLI p. 159 151 BIOGRAPHICAL PREFACE EDWARD FITZGERALD Edward Fitzgerald, whom the world has already learned, in spite of his own efforts to remain within the shadow of anonymity, to look upon as one of the rarest poets of the last century, was born at Bredfield, in Suffolk, on the 31st March, 1809. He was the third son of John Purcell, of Kilkenny, in Ireland, who, marrying Miss Mary Frances Fitzgerald, daughter of John Fitzgerald, of Williamstown, County Waterford, added that distinguished name to his own patronymic; and the future Omar was thus doubly of Irish extraction. (Both the families of Purcell and Fitzgerald claim descent from Norman warriors of the eleventh century.) This circumstance is thought to have had some influence in attracting him to the study of Persian poetry, Iran and Erin being almost convertible terms in the early days of modern ethnology. After some years of primary education at the grammar school of Bury St. Edmunds, he entered Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1826, and there formed acquaintance with several young men of great abilities, most of whom rose to distinction before him, but never ceased to regard with affectionate remembrance the quiet and amiable associate of their college-days. Amongst them were Alfred Tennyson, James Spedding, William Bodham Donne, John Mitchell Kemble, and William Makepeace Thackeray; and their long friendship was touchingly referred to by Tennyson in dedicating his last poem to the memory of Edward Fitzgerald. "Euphranor," our author's earliest printed work, affords a curious picture of his academic life and associations. Its substantial reality is evident beneath the thin disguise of the symbolical or classical names which he gives to the personages of the colloquy; and the speeches which he puts into his own mouth are full of the humorous gravity, and whimsical and kindly philosophy, which remained his distinguishing characteristics till the end. This book was first published in 1851; a second and a third edition were printed some years later; all anonymous, and each of the latter two differing from its predecessor by changes in the text which were not indicated on the title-pages. "Euphranor" furnishes a good many characterizations which would be useful for any writer treating upon Cambridge society in the third decade of this century. Kenelm Digby, the author of the "Broadstone of Honour," had left Cambridge before the time when Euphranor held his "dialogue," but he is picturesquely recollected as "a grand swarthy fellow who might have stepped out of the canvas of some knightly portrait in his father's hall--perhaps the living image of one sleeping under some cross-legged _effigies_ in the church." In "Euphranor," it is easy to discover the earliest phase of the unconquerable attachment which Fitzgerald entertained for his college and his life-long friends, and which induced him in later days to make frequent visits to Cambridge, renewing and refreshing the old ties of custom and friendship. In fact, his disposition was affectionate to a fault, and he betrayed his consciousness of weakness in that respect by referring playfully at times to "a certain natural lubricity" which he attributed to the Irish character, and professed to discover especially in himself. This amiability of temper endeared him to many friends of totally dissimilar tastes and qualities; and, by enlarging his sympathies, enabled him to enjoy the fructifying influence of studies pursued in communion with scholars more profound than himself, but less gifted with the power of expression. One of the younger Cambridge men with whom he became intimate during his periodical pilgrimages to the university, was Edward B. Cowell, a man of the highest attainment in Oriental learning, who resembled Fitzgerald himself in the possession of a warm and genial heart and the most unobtrusive modesty. From Cowell he could easily learn that the hypothetical affinity between the names of Erin and Iran belonged to an obsolete stage of etymology; but the attraction of a far-fetched theory was replaced by the charm of reading Persian poetry in companionship with his young friend, who was equally competent to enjoy and to analyze the beauties of a literature that formed a portion of his regular studies. They read together the poetical remains of Khayyám--a choice of reading which sufficiently indicates the depth and range of Mr. Cowell's knowledge. Omar Khayyám, although not quite forgotten, enjoyed in the history of Persian literature a celebrity like that of Occleve and Gower in our own. In the many _Tazkirát_ (memoirs or memorials) of Poets, he was mentioned and quoted with esteem; but his poems, laboring as they did under the original sin of heresy and atheism, were seldom looked at, and, from lack of demand on the part of readers, had become rarer than those of most other writers since the days of Firdausi. European scholars knew little of his works beyond his Arabic treatise on Algebra, and Mr. Cowell may be said to have disentombed his poems from oblivion. Now, thanks to the fine taste of that scholar, and to the transmuting genius of Fitzgerald, no Persian poet is so well known in the western world as Abu-'l-fat'h 'Omar, son of Ibrahim the tentmaker of Naishápúr, whose manhood synchronizes with the Norman conquest of England, and who took for his poetic name (_takhallus_) the designation of his father's trade (_Khayyám_). The "Rubá'iyyát" (Quatrains) do not compose a single poem divided into a certain number of stanzas; there is no continuity of plan in them, and each stanza is a distinct thought expressed in musical verse. There is no other element of unity in them than the general tendency of the Epicurean idea, and the arbitrary divan form by which they are grouped according to the alphabetical arrangement of the final letters; those in which the rhymes end in _a_ constituting the first division, those with _b_ the second, and so on. The peculiar attitude towards religion and the old questions of fate, immortality, the origin and the destiny of man, which educated thinkers have assumed in the present age of Christendom, is found admirably foreshadowed in the fantastic verses of Khayyám, who was no more of a Mohammedan than many of our best writers are Christians. His philosophical and Horatian fancies--graced as they are by the charms of a lyrical expression equal to that of Horace, and a vivid brilliance of imagination to which the Roman poet could make no claim--exercised a powerful influence upon Fitzgerald's mind, and colored his thoughts to such a degree that even when he oversteps the largest license allowed to a translator, his phrases reproduce the spirit and manner of his original with a nearer approach to perfection than would appear possible. It is usually supposed that there is more of Fitzgerald than of Khayyám in the English "Rubá'iyyát," and that the old Persian simply afforded themes for the Anglo-Irishman's display of poetic power; but nothing could be further from the truth. The French translator, J. B. Nicolas, and the English one, Mr. Whinfield, supply a closer mechanical reflection of the sense in each separate stanza; but Mr. Fitzgerald has, in some instances, given a version equally close and exact; in others, rejointed scattered phrases from more than one stanza of his original, and thus accomplished a feat of marvelous poetical transfusion. He frequently turns literally into English the strange outlandish imagery which Mr. Whinfield thought necessary to replace by more intelligible banalities, and in this way the magic of his genius has successfully transplanted into the garden of English poesy exotics that bloom like native flowers. One of Mr. Fitzgerald's Woodbridge friends was Bernard Barton, the Quaker poet, with whom he maintained for many years the most intimate and cordial intercourse, and whose daughter Lucy he married. He wrote the memoir of his friend's life which appeared in the posthumous volume of Barton's poems. The story of his married life was a short one. With all the overflowing amiability of his nature, there were mingled certain peculiarities or waywardnesses which were more suitable to the freedom of celibacy than to the staidness of matrimonial life. A separation took place by mutual agreement, and Fitzgerald behaved in this circumstance with the generosity and unselfishness which were apparent in all his whims no less than in his more deliberate actions. Indeed, his entire career was marked by an unchanging goodness of heart and a genial kindliness; and no one could complain of having ever endured hurt or ill-treatment at his hands. His pleasures were innocent and simple. Amongst the more delightful, he counted the short coasting trips, occupying no more than a day or two at a time, which he used to make in his own yacht from Lowestoft, accompanied only by a crew of two men, and such a friend as Cowell, with a large pasty and a few bottles of wine to supply their material wants. It is needless to say that books were also put into the cabin, and that the symposia of the friends were thus brightened by communion with the minds of the great departed. Fitzgerald's enjoyment of gnomic wisdom enshrined in words of exquisite propriety was evinced by the frequency with which he used to read Montaigne's essays and Madame de Sévigné's letters, and the various works from which he extracted and published his collection of wise saws entitled "Polonius." This taste was allied to a love for what was classical and correct in literature, by which he was also enabled to appreciate the prim and formal muse of Crabbe, in whose grandson's house he died. His second printed work was the "Polonius," already referred to, which appeared in 1852. It exemplifies his favorite reading, being a collection of extracts, sometimes short proverbial phrases, sometimes longer pieces of characterization or reflection, arranged under abstract headings. He occasionally quotes Dr. Johnson, for whom he entertains sincere admiration; but the ponderous and artificial fabric of Johnsonese did not please him like the language of Bacon, Fuller, Sir Thomas Browne, Coleridge, whom he cites frequently. A disproportionate abundance of wise words was drawn from Carlyle; his original views, his forcible sense, and the friendship with which Fitzgerald regarded him, having apparently blinded the latter to the ungainly style and ungraceful mannerisms of the Chelsea sage. (It was Thackeray who first made them personally acquainted; and Fitzgerald remained always loyal to his first instincts of affection and admiration.) Polonius also marks the period of his earliest attention to Persian studies, as he quotes in it the great Súfi poet, Jalál-ud-dín-Rúmi, whose "Masnavi" has been translated into English by Mr. Redhouse, but whom Fitzgerald can only have seen in the original. He, however, spells the name _Jallaladin_, an incorrect form of which he could not have been guilty at the time when he produced Omar Khayyám, and which thus betrays that he had not long been engaged with Irani literature. He was very fond of Montaigne's essays, and of Pascal's "Pensées"; but his "Polonius" reveals a sort of dislike and contempt for Voltaire. Amongst the Germans, Jean Paul, Goethe, Alexander von Humboldt and August Wilhelm von Schlegel attracted him greatly; but he seems to have read little German, and probably only quoted translations. His favorite motto was "Plain Living and High Thinking," and he expresses great reverence for all things manly, simple, and true. The laws and institutions of England were, in his eyes, of the highest value and sacredness; and whatever Irish sympathies he had would never have diverted his affections from the Union to Home Rule. This is strongly illustrated by some original lines of blank verse at the end of "Polonius," annexed to his quotation, under "Æsthetics," of the words in which Lord Palmerston eulogized Mr. Gladstone for having devoted his Neapolitan tour to an inspection of the prisons. Fitzgerald's next printed work was a translation of Six Dramas of Calderon, published in 1853, which was unfavorably received at the time, and consequently withdrawn by him from circulation. His name appeared on the title-page,--a concession to publicity which was so unusual with him that it must have been made under strong pressure from his friends. The book is in nervous blank verse, a mode of composition which he handled with great ease and skill. There is no waste of power in diffuseness and no employment of unnecessary epithets. It gives the impression of a work of the Shakespearean age, and reveals a kindred felicity, strength, and directness of language. It deserves to rank with his best efforts in poetry, but its ill-success made him feel that the publication of his name was an unfavorable experiment, and he never again repeated it. His great modesty, however, would sufficiently account for his shyness. Of "Omar Khayyám," even after the little book had won its way to general esteem, he used to say that the suggested addition of his name on the title would imply an assumption of importance which he considered that his "transmogrification" of the Persian poet did not possess. Fitzgerald's conception of a translator's privilege is well set forth in the prefaces of his versions from Calderon, and the "Agamemnon" of Æschylus. He maintained that, in the absence of the perfect poet, who shall re-create in his own language the body and soul of his original, the best system is that of a paraphrase conserving the spirit of the author,--a sort of literary metempsychosis. Calderon, Æschylus, and Omar Khayyám were all treated with equal license, so far as form is concerned,--the last, perhaps, the most arbitrarily; but the result is not unsatisfactory as having given us perfect English poems instinct with the true flavor of their prototypes. The Persian was probably somewhat more Horatian and less melancholy, the Greek a little less florid and mystic, the Spaniard more lyrical and fluent, than their metaphrast has made them; but the essential spirit has not escaped in transfusion. Only a man of singular gifts could have performed the achievement, and these works attest Mr. Fitzgerald's right to rank amongst the finest poets of the century. About the same time as he printed his Calderon, another set of translations from the same dramatist was published by the late D. F. MacCarthy, a scholar whose acquaintance with Castilian literature was much deeper than Mr. Fitzgerald's, and who also possessed poetical abilities of no mean order, with a totally different sense of the translator's duty. The popularity of MacCarthy's versions has been considerable, and as an equivalent rendering of the original in sense and form his work is valuable. Spaniards familiar with the English language rate its merit highly; but there can be little question of the very great superiority of Mr. Fitzgerald's work as a contribution to English literature. It is indeed only from this point of view that we should regard all the literary labors of our author. They are English poetical work of fine quality, dashed with a pleasant outlandish flavor which heightens their charm; and it is as English poems, not as translations, that they have endeared themselves even more to the American English than to the mixed Britons of England. It was an occasion of no small moment to Mr. Fitzgerald's fame, and to the intellectual gratification of many thousands of readers, when he took his little packet of "Rubá'iyyát" to Mr. Quaritch in the latter part of the year 1858. It was printed as a small quarto pamphlet, bearing the publisher's name but not the author's; and although apparently a complete failure at first,--a failure which Mr. Fitzgerald regretted less on his own account than on that of his publisher, to whom he had generously made a present of the book,--received, nevertheless, a sufficient distribution by being quickly reduced from the price of five shillings and placed in the box of cheap books marked a penny each. Thus forced into circulation, the two hundred copies which had been printed were soon exhausted. Among the buyers were Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Swinburne, Sir Richard Burton, and William Simpson, the accomplished artist of the _Illustrated London News_. The influence exercised by the first three, especially by Rossetti, upon a clique of young men who later grew to distinction, was sufficient to attract observation to the singular beauties of the poem anonymously translated from the Persian. Most readers had no possible opportunity of discovering whether it was a disguised original or an actual translation;--even Burton enjoyed probably but little chance of seeing a manuscript of the Persian "Rubá'iyyát." The Oriental imagery and allusions were too thickly scattered throughout the verses to favor the notion that they could be the original work of an Englishman; yet it was shrewdly suspected by most of the appreciative readers that the "translator" was substantially the author and creator of the poem. In the refuge of his anonymity, Fitzgerald derived an innocent gratification from the curiosity that was aroused on all sides. After the first edition had disappeared, inquiries for the little book became frequent, and in the year 1868 he gave the MS. of his second edition to Mr. Quaritch, and the "Rubá'iyyát" came into circulation once more, but with several alterations and additions by which the number of stanzas was somewhat increased beyond the original seventy-five. Most of the changes were, as might have been expected, improvements; but in some instances the author's taste or caprice was at fault,--notably in the first _Rubá'iy_. His fastidious desire to avoid anything that seemed _baroque_ or unnatural or appeared like plagiarism, may have influenced him; but it was probably because he had already used the idea in his rendering of Jámí's "Salámán," that he sacrificed a fine and novel piece of imagery in his first stanza and replaced it by one of much more ordinary character. If it were from a dislike to pervert his original too largely, he had no need to be so scrupulous, since he dealt on the whole with the "Rubá'iyyát" as though he had the license of absolute authorship, changing, transposing, and manipulating the substance of the Persian quatrains with a singular freedom. The vogue of "old Omar" (as he would affectionately call his work) went on increasing, and American readers took it up with eagerness. In those days the mere mention of Omar Khayyám between two strangers meeting fortuitously acted like a sign of freemasonry and established frequently a bond of friendship. Some curious instances of this have been related. A remarkable feature of the Omar-cult in the United States was the circumstance that single individuals bought numbers of copies for gratuitous distribution before the book was reprinted in America. Its editions have been relatively numerous, when we consider how restricted was the circle of readers who could understand the peculiar beauties of the work. A third edition appeared in 1872, with some further alterations, and may be regarded as virtually the author's final revision, for it hardly differs at all from the text of the fourth edition, which appeared in 1879. This last formed the first portion of a volume entitled "Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám; and the Salámán and Absál of Jámí; rendered into English verse." The "Salámán" (which had already been printed in separate form in 1856) is a poem chiefly in blank verse, interspersed with various meters (although it is all in one measure in the original) embodying a love-story of mystic significance; for Jámí was, unlike Omar Khayyám, a true Súfi, and indeed differed in other respects, his celebrity as a pious Mussulman doctor being equal to his fame as a poet. He lived in the fifteenth century, in a period of literary brilliance and decay; and the rich exuberance of his poetry, full of far-fetched conceits, involved expressions, overstrained imagery, and false taste, offers a strong contrast to the simpler and more forcible language of Khayyám. There is little use of Arabic in the earlier poet; he preferred the vernacular speech to the mongrel language which was fashionable among the heirs of the Saracen conquerors; but Jámí's composition is largely embroidered with Arabic. Mr. Fitzgerald had from his early days been thrown into contact with the Crabbe family; the Reverend George Crabbe (the poet's grandson) was an intimate friend of his, and it was on a visit to Morton Rectory that Fitzgerald died. As we know that friendship has power to warp the judgment, we shall not probably be wrong in supposing that his enthusiastic admiration for Crabbe's poems was not the product of sound, impartial criticism. He attempted to reintroduce them to the world by publishing a little volume of "Readings from Crabbe," produced in the last year of his life, but without success. A different fate awaited his "Agamemnon: a tragedy taken from Æschylus," which was first printed privately by him, and afterwards published with alterations in 1876. It is a very free rendering from the Greek, and full of a poetical beauty which is but partly assignable to Æschylus. Without attaining to anything like the celebrity and admiration which have followed Omar Khayyám, the "Agamemnon" has achieved much more than a _succès d'estime_. Mr. Fitzgerald's renderings from the Greek were not confined to this one essay; he also translated the two OEdipus dramas of Sophocles, but left them unfinished in manuscript till Prof. Eliot Norton had a sight of them and urged him to complete his work. When this was done, he had them set in type, but only a very few proofs can have been struck off, as it seems that, at least in England, no more than one or two copies were sent out by the author. In a similar way he printed translations of two of Calderon's plays not included in the published "Six Dramas"--namely, "La Vida es Sueño," and "El Magico Prodigioso" (both ranking among the Spaniard's finest work); but they also were withheld from the public and all but half a dozen friends. When his old boatman died, he abandoned his nautical exercises and gave up his yacht forever. During the last few years of his life, he divided his time between Cambridge, Crabbe's house, and his own home at Little Grange, near Woodbridge, where he received occasional visits from friends and relatives. He was one of the most modest men who have enriched English literature with poetry of distinct and permanent value, and his best epitaph is found in Tennyson's "Tiresias and other Poems," published immediately after our author's quiet exit from life, in 1883, in the seventy-fifth year of his age. OMAR KHAYYÁM _The Astronomer-Poet of Persia_ (BY EDWARD FITZGERALD) Omar Khayyám was born at Naishápúr in Khorassán in the latter half of our Eleventh, and died within the First Quarter of our Twelfth Century. The slender story of his life is curiously twined about that of two other very considerable Figures in their Time and Country: one of whom tells the Story of all Three. This was Nizám ul Mulk, Vizyr to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah the Grandson, of Toghrul Beg the Tartar, who had wrested Persia from the feeble Successor of Mahmúd the Great, and founded that Seljukian Dynasty which finally roused Europe into the Crusades. This Nizám ul Mulk, in his _Wasiyat_--or _Testament_--which he wrote and left as a Memorial for future Statesmen--relates the following, as quoted in the _Calcutta Review_, No. 59, from Mirkhond's History of the Assassins. "One of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassán was the Imám Mowaffak of Naishápúr, a man highly honored and reverenced,--may God rejoice his soul: his illustrious years exceeded eighty-five, and it was the universal belief that every boy who read the Koran or studied the traditions in his presence, would assuredly attain to honor and happiness. For this cause did my father send me from Tús to Naishápúr with Abd-us-samad, the doctor of law, that I might employ myself in study and learning under the guidance of that illustrious teacher. Towards me he ever turned an eye of favor and kindness, and as his pupil I felt for him extreme affection and devotion, so that I passed four years in his service. When I first came there, I found two other pupils of mine own age newly arrived, Hakim Omar Khayyám, and the ill-fated Ben Sabbáh. Both were endowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers; and we three formed a close friendship together. When the Imám rose from his lectures, they used to join me, and we repeated to each other the lessons we had heard. Now Omar was a native of Naishápúr, while Hasan Ben Sabbáh's father was one Ali, a man of austere life and practice, but heretical in his creed and doctrine. One day Hasan said to me and to Khayyám, 'It is a universal belief that the pupils of the Imám Mowaffak will attain to fortune. Now, even if we _all_ do not attain thereto, without doubt one of us will; what then shall be our mutual pledge and bond?' We answered, 'Be it what you please.' 'Well,' he said, let us make a vow, that to whomsoever this fortune falls, he shall share it equally with the rest, and reserve no pre-eminence for himself.' 'Be it so,' we both replied, and on those terms we mutually pledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went from Khorassán to Transoxiana and wandered to Ghazni and Cabul; and when I returned, I was invested with office, and rose to be administrator of affairs during the Sultanate of Sultan Alp Arslan. "He goes on to state, that years passed by, and both his old school-friends found him out, and came and claimed a share in his good fortune, according to the school-day vow. The Vizier was generous and kept his word. Hasan demanded a place in the government, which the Sultan granted at the Vizier's request; but discontented with a gradual rise, he plunged into the maze of intrigue of an oriental court, and, failing in a base attempt to supplant his benefactor, he was disgraced and fell. After many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan became the head of the Persian sect of the _Ismailians_,--a party of fanatics who had long murmured in obscurity, but rose to an evil eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil will. In A.D. 1090, he seized the castle of Alamút, in the province of Rúdbar, which lies in the mountainous tract south of the Caspian Sea; and it was from this mountain home he obtained that evil celebrity among the Crusaders as the OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS, and spread terror through the Mohammedan world; and it is yet disputed whether the word _Assassin_, which they have left in the language of modern Europe as their dark memorial, is derived from the _hashish_, or opiate of hemp-leaves (the Indian _bhang_), with which they maddened themselves to the sullen pitch of oriental desperation, or from the name of the founder of the dynasty, whom we have seen in his quiet collegiate days, at Naishápúr. One of the countless victims of the Assassin's dagger was Nizám-ul-Mulk himself, the old schoolboy friend. "Omar Khayyám also came to the Vizier to claim his share; but not to ask for title or office. 'The greatest boon you can confer on me,' he said, 'is to let me live in a corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide the advantages of Science, and pray for your long life and prosperity.' The Vizier tells us, that when he found Omar was really sincere in his refusal, he pressed him no further, but granted him a yearly pension of 1200 _mithkáls_ of gold from the treasury of Naishápúr. "At Naishápúr thus lived and died Omar Khayyám, 'busied,' adds the Vizier, 'in winning knowledge of every kind, and especially in Astronomy, wherein he attained to a very high pre-eminence. Under the Sultanate of Malik Shah, he came to Merv, and obtained great praise for his proficiency in science, and the Sultan showered favors upon him.' "When the Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar, Omar was one of the eight learned men employed to do it; the result was the _Jaláli_ era (so called from _Jalál-ud-din_, one of the King's names)--'a computation of time,' says Gibbon, 'which surpasses the Julian, and approaches the accuracy of the Gregorian style.' He is also the author of some astronomical tables, entitled Zíji-Maliksháhí," and the French have lately republished and translated an Arabic Treatise of his on Algebra. "His Takhallus or poetical name (Khayyám) signifies a Tent-maker, and he is said to have at one time exercised that trade, perhaps before Nizám-ul-Mulk's generosity raised him to independence. Many Persian poets similarly derive their names from their occupations; thus we have Attár, 'a druggist,' Assár, 'an oil presser,' etc. Omar himself alludes to his name in the following whimsical lines:-- "'Khayyám, who stitched the tents of science, Has fallen in grief's furnace and been suddenly burned; The shears of Fate have cut the tent ropes of his life, And the broker of Hope has sold him for nothing!' "We have only one more anecdote to give of his Life, and that relates to the close; it is told in the anonymous preface which is sometimes prefixed to his poems; it has been printed in the Persian in the Appendix to Hyde's _Veterum Persarum Religio_, p. 499; and D'Herbelot alludes to it in his Bibliothèque, under _Khiam_,-- "It is written in the chronicles of the ancients that this King of the Wise, Omar Khayyám, died at Naishápúr in the year of the Hegira, 517 (A.D. 1123); in science he was unrivaled,--the very paragon of his age. Khwájah Nizámi of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils, relates the following story: 'I often used to hold conversations with my teacher, Omar Khayyám, in a garden; and one day he said to me, "My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses over it." I wondered at the words he spake, but I knew that his were no idle words. Years after, when I chanced to revisit Naishápúr, I went to his final resting-place, and lo! it was just outside a garden, and trees laden with fruit stretched their boughs over the garden wall, and dropped their flowers upon his tomb, so that the stone was hidden under them.'" Thus far--without fear of Trespass--from the _Calcutta Review_. The writer of it, on reading in India this story of Omar's Grave, was reminded, he says, of Cicero's account of finding Archimedes' Tomb at Syracuse, buried in grass and weeds. I think Thorwaldsen desired to have roses grow over him; a wish religiously fulfilled for him to the present day, I believe. However, to return to Omar. Though the Sultan "shower'd Favors upon him," Omar's Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech caused him to be regarded askance in his own Time and Country. He is said to have been especially hated and dreaded by the Súfis, whose Practise he ridiculed, and whose Faith amounts to little more than his own, when stript of the Mysticism and formal recognition of Islamism under which Omar would not hide. Their Poets, including Háfiz, who are (with the exception of Firdausi) the most considerable in Persia, borrowed largely, indeed, of Omar's material, but turning it to a mystical Use more convenient to Themselves and the People they addressed; a People quite as quick of Doubt as of Belief; as keen of Bodily Sense as of Intellectual; and delighting in a cloudy composition of both, in which they could float luxuriously between Heaven and Earth, and this World and the next, on the wings of a poetical expression, that might serve indifferently for either. Omar was too honest of Heart as well of Head for this. Having failed (however mistakenly) of finding any Providence but Destiny, and any World but This, he set about making the most of it; preferring rather to soothe the Soul through the Senses into Acquiescence with Things as he saw them, than to perplex it with vain disquietude after what they _might_ be. It has been seen, however, that his Worldly Ambition was not exorbitant; and he very likely takes a humorous or perverse pleasure in exalting the gratification of Sense above that of the Intellect, in which he must have taken great delight, although it failed to answer the Questions in which he, in common with all men, was most vitally interested. For whatever Reason, however, Omar, as before said, has never been popular in his own Country, and therefore has been but scantily transmitted abroad. The MSS. of his Poems, mutilated beyond the average Casualties of Oriental Transcription, are so rare in the East as scarce to have reached Westward at all, in spite of all the acquisitions of Arms and Science. There is no copy at the India House, none at the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris. We know but one in England: No. 140 of the Ouseley MSS. at the Bodleian, written at Shiráz, A.D. 1460. This contains but 158 Rubáiyát. One in the Asiatic Society's Library at Calcutta (of which we have a copy) contains (and yet incomplete) 516, though swelled to that by all kinds of Repetition and Corruption. So Von Hammer speaks of _his_ Copy as containing about 200, while Dr. Sprenger catalogues the Lucknow MSS. at double that number. The Scribes, too, of the Oxford and Calcutta MSS. seem to do their Work under a sort of Protest; each beginning with a Tetrastich (whether genuine or not) taken out of its alphabetical order; the Oxford with one of Apology; the Calcutta with one of Expostulation, supposed (says a Notice prefixed to the MS.) to have arisen from a Dream, in which Omar's mother asked about his future fate. It may be rendered thus:-- "Oh Thou who burn'st in Heart for those who burn In Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn; How long be crying, 'Mercy on them, God!' Why, who art Thou to teach, and He to learn?" The Bodleian Quatrain pleads Pantheism by way of Justification. "If I myself upon a looser Creed Have loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed, Let this one thing for my Atonement plead: That One for Two I never did misread." The Reviewer to whom I owe the Particulars of Omar's Life concludes his Review by comparing him with Lucretius, both as to natural Temper and Genius, and as acted upon by the Circumstances in which he lived. Both indeed were men of subtle, strong, and cultivated Intellect, fine Imagination, and Hearts passionate for Truth and Justice; who justly revolted from their Country's false Religion, and false, or foolish, Devotion to it; but who fell short of replacing what they subverted by such better _Hope_ as others, with no better Revelation to guide them, had yet made a Law to themselves. Lucretius indeed, with such material as Epicurus furnished, satisfied himself with the theory of a vast machine fortuitously constructed and acting by a Law that implied no Legislator; and so composing himself into a Stoical rather than Epicurean severity of Attitude, sat down to contemplate the mechanical Drama of the Universe which he was part Actor in; himself and all about him (as in his own sublime description of the Roman Theatre) discolored with the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended between the Spectator and the Sun. Omar, more desperate, or more careless of any so complicated System as resulted in nothing but hopeless Necessity, flung his own Genius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest into the general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only served to reveal; and, pretending sensual pleasure, as the serious purpose of Life, only _diverted_ himself with speculative problems of Deity, Destiny, Matter and Spirit, Good and Evil, and other such questions, easier to start than to run down, and the pursuit of which becomes a very weary sport at last! With regard to the present Translation. The original Rubáiyát (as, missing an Arabic Guttural, these _Tetrastichs_ are more musically called) are independent Stanzas, consisting each of four Lines of equal though varied Prosody; sometimes _all_ rhyming, but oftener (as here imitated) the third line a blank. Somewhat as in the Greek Alcaic, where the penultimate line seems to lift and suspend the Wave that falls over in the last. As usual with such kind of Oriental Verse, the Rubáiyát follow one another according to Alphabetic Rhyme--a strange succession of Grave and Gay. Those here selected are strung into something of an Eclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the "Drink and make-merry," which (genuine or not) recurs over-frequently in the Original. Either way, the Result is sad enough: saddest perhaps when most ostentatiously merry: more apt to move Sorrow than Anger toward the old Tent-maker, who, after vainly endeavoring to unshackle his Steps from Destiny, and to catch some authentic Glimpse of To-morrow, fell back upon To-day (which has outlasted so many To-morrows!) as the only ground he had got to stand upon, however momentarily slipping from under his feet. # # # # # While the second Edition of this version of Omar was preparing, Monsieur Nicolas, French Consul at Resht, published a very careful and very good Edition of the Text from a lithograph copy at Teheran, comprising 464 Rubáiyát, with translation and notes of his own. Mons. Nicolas, whose Edition has reminded me of several things, and instructed me in others, does not consider Omar to be the material Epicurean that I have literally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing the Deity under the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, etc., as Háfiz is supposed to do; in short, a Súfi Poet like Háfiz and the rest. I cannot see reason to alter my opinion, formed as it was more than a dozen years ago when Omar was first shown me by one to whom I am indebted for all I know of Oriental, and very much of other, literature. He admired Omar's genius so much that he would gladly have adopted any such interpretation of his meaning as Mons. Nicolas' if he could. That he could not, appears by his Paper in the _Calcutta Review_ already so largely quoted; in which he argues from the Poems themselves, as well as from what records remain of the Poet's Life. And if more were needed to disprove Mons. Nicolas' Theory, there is the Biographical Notice which he himself has drawn up in direct contradiction to the Interpretation of the Poems given in his Notes. (See pp. xiii-xiv of his Preface.) Indeed I hardly knew poor Omar was so far gone till his Apologist informed me. For here we see that, whatever were the Wine that Háfiz drank and sang, the veritable Juice of the Grape it was which Omar used, not only when carousing with his friends, but (says Mons. Nicolas) in order to excite himself to that pitch of Devotion which others reached by cries and "Hurlemens." And yet, whenever Wine, Wine-bearer, etc., occur in the text--which is often enough--Mons. Nicolas carefully annotates "Dieu," "La Divinité," etc.: so carefully indeed that one is tempted to think that he was indoctrinated by the Súfi with whom he read the Poems. A Persian would naturally wish to vindicate a distinguished Countryman; and a Súfi to enrol him in his own sect, which already comprises all the chief Poets of Persia. What historical Authority has Mons. Nicolas to show that Omar gave himself up "avec passion à l'étude de la philosophie des Soufis?" (Preface, p. xiii.) The Doctrines of Pantheism, Materialism, Necessity, etc., were not peculiar to the Súfi; nor to Lucretius before them; nor to Epicurus before him; probably the very original Irreligion of Thinking men from the first; and very likely to be the spontaneous growth of a Philosopher living in an Age of social and political barbarism, under shadow of one of the Two and Seventy Religions supposed to divide the world. Von Hammer (according to Sprenger's Oriental Catalogue) speaks of Omar as "a Free-thinker, and _a great opponent of Sufism_;" perhaps because, while holding much of their Doctrine, he would not pretend to any inconsistent severity of morals. Sir W. Ouseley has written a note to something of the same effect on the fly-leaf of the Bodleian MS. And in two Rubáiyát of Mons. Nicolas' own Edition Súf and Súfi are both disparagingly named. No doubt many of these Quatrains seem unaccountable unless mystically interpreted; but many more as unaccountable unless literally. Were the Wine spiritual, for instance, how wash the Body with it when dead! Why make cups of the dead clay to be filled with--"La Divinité"--by some succeeding Mystic? Mons. Nicolas himself is puzzled by some "bizarres and trop Orientals" allusions and images--"d'une sensualité quelquefois révoltante" indeed--which "les convenances" do not permit him to translate, but still which the reader cannot but refer to "La Divinité." No doubt also many of the Quatrains in the Teheran, as in the Calcutta Copies, are spurious; such _Rubáiyát_ being the common form of Epigram in Persia. But this, at best, tells as much one way as another; nay, the Súfi, who may be considered the Scholar and Men of Letters in Persia, would be far more likely than the careless Epicure to interpolate what favors his own view of the Poet. I observe that very few of the more mystical Quatrains are in the Bodleian MS. which must be one of the oldest, as dated at Shiraz, A.H. 865, A.D. 1460. And this, I think, especially distinguishes Omar (I cannot help calling him by his--no, not Christian--familiar name) from all other Persian Poets: That, whereas with them the Poet is lost in his Song, the Man in Allegory and Abstraction; we seem to have the Man--the _Bonhomme_--Omar himself, with all his Humors and Passions, as frankly before us as if we were really at Table with him, after the Wine had gone round. I must say that I, for one, never wholly believed in the mysticism of Háfiz. It does not appear there was any danger in holding and singing Súfi Pantheism, so long as the Poet made his Salaam to Mohammed at the beginning and end of his Song. Under such conditions Jeláluddín, Jámí, Attár, and others sang; using Wine and Beauty indeed as Images to illustrate, not as a Mask to hide, the Divinity they were celebrating. Perhaps some Allegory less liable to mistake or abuse had been better among so inflammable a People: much more so when, as some think with Háfiz and Omar, the abstract is not only likened to, but identified with, the sensual Image; hazardous, if not to the Devotee himself, yet to his weaker Brethren; and worse for the Profane in proportion as the Devotion of the Initiated grew warmer. And all for what? To be tantalized with Images of sensual enjoyment which must be renounced if one would approximate a God, who, according to the Doctrine, _is_ Sensual Matter as well as Spirit, and into whose Universe one expects unconsciously to merge after Death, without hope of any posthumous Beatitude in another world to compensate for all one's self-denial in this. Lucretius' blind Divinity certainly merited, and probably got, as much self-sacrifice as this of the Súfi; and the burden of Omar's Song--if not "Let us eat"--is assuredly--"Let us drink, for To-morrow we die!" And if Háfiz meant quite otherwise by a similar language, he surely miscalculated when he devoted his Life and Genius to so equivocal a Psalmody as, from his Day to this, has been said and sung by any rather than Spiritual Worshipers. However, as there is some traditional presumption, and certainly the opinion of some learned men, in favor of Omar's being a Súfi--and even something of a Saint--those who please may so interpret his Wine and Cup-bearer. On the other hand, as there is far more historical certainty of his being a Philosopher, of scientific Insight and Ability far beyond that of the Age and Country he lived in; of such moderate worldly Ambition as becomes a Philosopher, and such moderate wants as rarely satisfy a Debauchee; other readers may be content to believe with me that, while the Wine Omar celebrates is simply the Juice of the Grape, he bragged more than he drank of it, in very defiance perhaps of that Spiritual Wine which left its Votaries sunk in Hypocrisy or Disgust. [Illustration: QUATRAIN I p. 41 [_First Edition of the Translation_] Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultán's Turret in a Noose of Light.] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XI p. 46 [_First Edition of the Translation_] Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- And Wilderness is Paradise enow.] [Illustration: RUBÁIYÁT·OF·OMAR·KHAYYÁM] THE FIRST EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION RUBÁIYÁT OF OMAR KHAYYÁM I Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultán's Turret in a Noose of Light. II Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, "Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry." III And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door! You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." IV Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES ON THE BOUGH Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. V Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose, And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows. VI And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine High piping Pehleví, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! _Red_ Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose That yellow Cheek of hers to incarnadine. VII Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly--and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing. VIII And look--a thousand Blossoms with the Day Woke--and a thousand scatter'd into Clay: And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshýd and Kaikobád away. IX But come with old Khayyám, and leave the Lot Of Kaikobád and Kaikhosrú forgot: Let Rustum lay about him as he will, Or Hátim Tai cry Supper--heed them not. X With me along some Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultán scarce is known, And pity Sultán Máhmúd on his Throne. XI Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- And Wilderness is Paradise enow. XII "How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"--think some: Others--"How blest the Paradise to come!" Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a _distant_ Drum! XIII Look to the Rose that blows about us--"Lo, Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow: At once the silken Tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." XIV The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face Lighting a little Hour or two--is gone. XV And those who husbanded the Golden Grain, And those who flung it to the Winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again. XVI Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day, How Sultán after Sultán with his Pomp Abode his Hour or two, and went his way. XVII They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshýd gloried and drank deep; And Bahrám, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, and he lies fast asleep. XVIII I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head. XIX And this delightful Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean-- Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! XX Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears-- _To-morrow?_--Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years. XXI Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to Rest. XXII And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend, ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? XXIII Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End. XXIV Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after a TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzín from the Tower of Darkness cries "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!" XXV Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the TWO Worlds so learnedly, are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. XXVI Oh, come with old Khayyám, and leave the Wise To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies; One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. XXVII Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same Door as in I went. XXVIII With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with my own hand labour'd it to grow: And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-- "I came like Water, and like Wind I go." [Illustration: QUATRAIN XXIV p. 52 [_First Edition of the Translation_] Alike for those who for To-day prepare, And those that after a To-morrow stare, A Muezzín from the Tower of Darkness cries, "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!"] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XLII p. 61 [_First Edition of the Translation_] And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape!] XXIX Into this Universe, and _why_ not knowing, Nor _whence_, like Water willy-nilly flowing: And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not _whither_, willy-nilly blowing. XXX What, without asking, hither hurried _whence?_ And, without asking, _whither_ hurried hence! Another and another Cup to drown The Memory of this Impertinence! XXXI Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate. XXXII There was a Door to which I found no Key: There was a Veil past which I could not see: Some little Talk awhile of ME and THEE There seem'd--and then no more of THEE and ME. XXXIII Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried, Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?" And--"A blind Understanding!" Heav'n replied. XXXIV Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live Drink!--for once dead you never shall return." XXXV I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And merry-make; and the cold Lip I kiss'd How many Kisses might it take--and give! XXXVI For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day, I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!" XXXVII Ah, fill the Cup:--what boots it to repeat How Time is slipping underneath our Feet: Unborn TO-MORROW, and dead YESTERDAY Why fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet! XXXVIII One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste-- The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste! XXXIX How long, how long, in definite Pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute? Better be merry with the fruitful Grape Than sadder after none, or bitter, Fruit. XL You know, my Friends, how long since in my House For a new Marriage I did make Carouse: Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. XLI For "IS" and "IS-NOT" though _with_ Rule and Line And "UP-AND-DOWN" _without_, I could define, I yet in all I only cared to know, Was never deep in anything but--Wine. XLII And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape! XLIII The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute. XLIV The mighty Mahmúd, the victorious Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword. XLV But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me The Quarrel of the Universe let be: And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht, Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee. XLVI For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go. XLVII And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in the Nothing all Things end in--Yes-- Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what Thou shalt be--Nothing--Thou shalt not be less. XLVIII While the Rose blows along the River Brink, With old Khayyám the Ruby Vintage drink: And when the Angel with his darker Draught Draws up to Thee--take that, and do not shrink. XLIX 'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. L The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field, HE knows about it all--HE knows--HE knows! LI The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it. LII And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, Lift not thy hands to _It_ for help--for It Rolls impotently on as Thou or I. LIII With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man's knead, And then of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. LIV I tell Thee this--When, starting from the Goal, Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal Of Heav'n and Parwín and Mushtara they flung, In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul. LV The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about If clings my Being--let the Súfi flout; Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without. LVI And this I know: whether the one True Light, Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One glimpse of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. LVII Oh, Thou, who didst with Pitfall and with Gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestination round Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin? LVIII Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And who with Eden didst devise the Snake; For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd, Man's Forgiveness give--and take! * * * * * KÚZA-NÁMA LIX Listen again. One evening at the Close Of Ramazán, ere the better Moon arose, In that old Potter's Shop I stood alone With the clay Population round in Rows. LX And, strange to tell, among the Earthen Lot Some could articulate, while others not: And suddenly one more impatient cried-- "Who _is_ the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?" LXI Then said another--"Surely not in vain My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to common Earth again." LXII Another said--"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy, Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy; Shall He that _made_ the Vessel in pure Love And Fancy, in an after Rage destroy!" LXIII None answer'd this; but after Silence spake A Vessel of a more ungainly Make: "They sneer at me for leaning all awry; What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?" LXIV Said one--"Folks of a surly Tapster tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; They talk of some strict Testing of us--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." LXV Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh, "My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: But, fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by-and-by!" LXVI So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother, Brother! Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a creaking!" * * * * * LXVII Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the Life has died, And in a Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt, So bury me by some sweet Garden-side. LXVIII That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air, As not a True Believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware. LXIX Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong: Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup, And sold my Reputation for a Song. LXX Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore--but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. LXXI And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell. LXXII Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows! LXXIII Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire! LXXIV Ah, Moon of my Delight, who know'st no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again: How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me--in vain! LXXV And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in thy joyous Errand reach the Spot Where I made one--turn down an empty Glass! TAMÁM SHUD [Illustration: RUBÁIYÁT·OF·OMAR·KHAYYÁM] THE SECOND EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION I Wake! For the Sun behind yon Eastern height Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night; And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes The Sultán's Turret with a Shaft of Light. II Before the phantom of False morning died, Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried, "When all the Temple is prepared within, Why lags the drowsy Worshipper outside?" III And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door! You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." IV Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. V Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows. VI And David's lips are lockt; but in divine High-piping Péhleví, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose That sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine. VII Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing. VIII Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one. IX Morning a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? And this first Summer month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshýd and Kaikobád away. X Well, let it take them! What have we to do With Kaikobád the Great, or Kaikhosrú? Let Rustum cry "To Battle!" as he likes, Or Hátim Tai "To Supper"--heed not you. XI With me along the Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultán is forgot-- And Peace to Máhmúd on his golden Throne? XII Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! [Illustration: QUATRAIN LXXII p. 76 [_First Edition of the Translation_] Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XI p. 86 [_Second Edition of the Translation_] With me along the Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultán is forgot-- And Peace to Máhmúd on his golden Throne?] XIII Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the promise go, Nor heed the music of a distant Drum! XIV Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin The Thread of present Life away to win-- What? for ourselves, who know not if we shall Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in! XV Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo, Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow: At once the silken tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." XVI For those who husbanded the Golden grain, And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again. XVII The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two--was gone. XVIII Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultán after Sultán with his Pomp Abode his destined Hour, and went his way. XIX They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshýd gloried and drank deep: And Bahrám, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. XX The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw, And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew-- I saw the solitary Ringdove there, And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo." XXI Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regret and Future Fears: _To-morrow!_--Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years. XXII For some we loved, the loveliest and the best That from his Vintage rolling Time has prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest. XXIII And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? XXIV I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. XXV And this delightful Herb whose living Green Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean-- Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! XXVI Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End! XXVII Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after some TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzín from the Tower of Darkness cries, "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There." XXVIII Another Voice, when I am sleeping, cries, "The Flower should open with the Morning skies." And a retreating Whisper, as I wake-- "The Flower that once has blown for ever dies." XXIX Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. XXX Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same door as in I went. XXXI With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with my own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-- "I came like Water, and like Wind I go." XXXII Into this Universe, and _Why_ not knowing, Nor _Whence_, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not _Whither_, willy-nilly blowing. XXXIII What, without asking, hither hurried _Whence?_ And, without asking, _Whither_ hurried hence! Ah! contrite Heav'n endowed us with the Vine To drug the memory of that insolence! XXXIV Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-Knot of Human Fate. XXXV There was the Door to which I found no Key: There was the Veil through which I could not see: Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was--and then no more of THEE and ME. XXXVI Earth could not answer: nor the Seas that mourn In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn; Nor Heaven, with those eternal Signs reveal'd And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. XXXVII Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind The Veil of Universe I cried to find A Lamp to guide me through the Darkness; and Something then said--"An Understanding blind." XXXVIII Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret Well of Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live, Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return." XXXIX I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And drink; and that impassive Lip I kiss'd, How many Kisses might it take--and give! XL For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!" XLI For has not such a Story from of Old Down Man's successive generations roll'd Of such a clod of saturated Earth Cast by the Maker into Human mould? XLII And not a drop that from our Cups we throw On the parcht herbage but may steal below To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden--far beneath, and long ago. XLIII As then the Tulip for her wonted sup Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up, Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n To Earth invert you like an empty Cup. XLIV Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace. [Illustration: QUATRAIN XX p. 90 [_Second Edition of the Translation_] The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw, And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew-- I saw the solitary Ringdove there, And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo."] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XLIV p. 102 [_Second Edition of the Translation_] Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.] XLV And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press, End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Imagine then you _are_ what heretofore You _were_--hereafter you shall not be less. XLVI So when at last the Angel of the drink Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink, And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul Forth to your Lips to quaff it--do not shrink. XLVII And fear not lest Existence closing _your_ Account, should lose, or know the type no more; The Eternal Sákí from that Bowl has pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. XLVIII When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast. XLIX One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste-- The Stars are setting, and the Caravan Draws to the Dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste! L Would you that spangle of Existence spend About THE SECRET--quick about it, Friend! A Hair, they say, divides the False and True-- And upon what, prithee, does Life depend? LI A Hair, they say, divides the False and True; Yes; and a single Alif were the clue-- Could you but find it, to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too; LII Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins Running, Quicksilver-like eludes your pains; Taking all shapes from Máh to Máhi; and They change and perish all--but He remains; LIII A moment guess'd--then back behind the Fold Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd Which, for the Pastime of Eternity, He does Himself contrive, enact, behold. LIV But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door, You gaze TO-DAY, while You are You--how then TO-MORROW, You when shall be You no more? LV Oh, plagued no more With Human or Divine, To-morrow's tangle to itself resign, And lose your fingers in the tresses of The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. LVI Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute; Better be merry with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. LVII You know, my Friends, how bravely in my House For a new Marriage I did make Carouse; Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse LVIII For "IS" and "IS-NOT" though with Rule and Line, And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define, Of all that one should care to fathom, I Was never deep in anything but--Wine. LIX Ah, but my Computations, People say, Have squared the Year to human compass, eh? If so, by striking from the Calendar Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday. LX And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape! LXI The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute: LXII The mighty Mahmúd, Allah-breathing Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword. LXIII Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare? A Blessing, we should use it, should we not? And if a Curse--why, then, Who set it there? LXIV I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust, Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, When the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust! LXV If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand. LXVI Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain--_This_ Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once is blown for ever dies. LXVII Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road, Which to discover we must travel too. LXVIII The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep They told their fellows, and to Sleep return'd. LXIX Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, Is't not a Shame--is't not a Shame for him So long in this Clay suburb to abide! LXX But that is but a Tent wherein may rest A Sultán to the realm of Death addrest; The Sultán rises, and the dark Ferrásh Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. LXXI I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And after many days my Soul return'd And said, "Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell:" LXXII Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire, Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, So late emerged from, shall so soon expire. LXXIII We are no other than a moving row Of visionary Shapes that come and go Round with this Sun-illumined Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show; LXXIV Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. LXXV The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd you down into the Field, _He_ knows about it all--HE knows--HE knows! LXXVI The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. LXXVII For let Philosopher and Doctor preach Of what they will, and what they will not--each Is but one Link in an eternal Chain That none can slip, nor break, nor overreach. LXXVIII And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to _It_ for help--for It As impotently rolls as you or I. LXXIX With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. LXXX Yesterday, _This_ Day's Madness did prepare: To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. LXXXI I tell you this--When, started from the Goal, Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal Of Heav'n Parwín and Mushtarí they flung, In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul LXXXII The Vine had struck a fibre: which about If clings my being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without. LXXXIII And this I know: whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, One Flash of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. LXXXIV What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke A conscious Something to resent the yoke Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke! LXXXV What! from his helpless Creature be repaid Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd Sue for a Debt we never did contract, And cannot answer--Oh, the sorry trade! LXXXVI Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face, I swear I will not call Injustice Grace; Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but Would kick so poor a Coward from the place. LXXXVII Oh, Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin! LXXXVIII Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: For all the Sin the Face of wretched Man Is black with--Man's Forgiveness give--and take! * * * * * LXXXIX As under cover of departing Day Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazán away, Once more within the Potter's house alone I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay. XC And once again there gathered a scarce heard Whisper among them; as it were, the stirr'd Ashes of some all but extinguisht Tongue, Which mine ear kindled into living Word. XCI Said one among them--"Surely not in vain, My substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth again?" XCII Another said--"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Cup from which he drank in Joy; Shall He that of His own free Fancy made The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy!" XCIII None answer'd this; but after silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry; What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?" XCIV Thus with the Dead as with the Living, _What_? And _Why_? so ready, but the _Wherefor_ not, One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd, "Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?" XCV Said one--"Folks of a surly Master tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; They talk of some sharp Trial of us--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." XCVI "Well," said another, "Whoso will, let try, My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: But fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by-and-by!" XCVII So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!" * * * * * XCVIII Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the Life has died, And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf, By some not unfrequented Garden-side. XCIX Whither resorting from the vernal Heat Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet, Under the Branch that leans above the Wall To shed his Blossom over head and feet. C Then ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air, As not a True-believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware. CI Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my credit in Men's eye much wrong: Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup And sold my Reputation for a Song. CII Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore--but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. CIII And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--Well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One-half so precious as the ware they sell. CIV Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows! CV Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed reveal'd, Toward which the fainting Traveller might spring, As springs the trampled herbage of the field! CVI Oh, if the World were but to re-create, That we might catch ere closed the Book of Fate, And make The Writer on a fairer leaf Inscribe our names, or quite obliterate! CVII Better, oh, better, cancel from the Scroll Of Universe one luckless Human Soul, Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls Hoarser with Anguish as the Ages Roll. CVIII Ah, Love! could you and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire! [Illustration: QUATRAIN LXXII p. 116 [_Second Edition of the Translation_] Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire, Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, So late emerged from, shall so soon expire.] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XIV p. 145 [_Fifth Edition of the Translation_] Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo, Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow, At once the silken tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."] CIX But see! The rising Moon of Heav'n again-- Looks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering Plane: How oft hereafter rising will she look Among those leaves--for one of us in vain! CX And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in your joyous errand reach the spot Where I made One--turn down an empty Glass! TAMÁM [Illustration: RUBÁIYÁT·OF·OMAR·KHAYYÁM] THE FIFTH EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION I Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultán's Turret with a Shaft of Light. II Before the phantom of False morning died, Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried, "When all the Temple is prepared within, Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?" III And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door! You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." IV Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. V Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows. VI And David's lips are lockt; but in divine High-piping Pehleví, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose That sallow cheek of hers t' incarnadine. VII Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing. VIII Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one. IX Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? And this first Summer month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshýd and Kaikobád away. X Well, let it take them! What have we to do With Kaikobád the Great, or Kaikhosrú? Let Zál and Rustum bluster as they will, Or Hátim call to Supper--heed not you. XI With me along the strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultán is forgot-- And Peace to Mahmúd on his golden Throne! XII A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! XIII Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! XIV Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo, Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow, At once the silken tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." XV And those who husbanded the Golden grain, And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again. XVI The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two--is gone. XVII Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultán after Sultán with his Pomp Abode his destined Hour, and went his way. XVIII They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshýd gloried and drank deep: And Bahrám, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. XIX I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head XX And this reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean-- Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! XXI Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of Past Regrets and Future Fears: _To-morrow!_--Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years. XXII For some we loved, the loveliest and the best That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest. XXIII And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? XXIV Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End! [Illustration: QUATRAIN XXXVII p. 157 [_Fifth Edition of the Translation_] For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"] [Illustration: QUATRAIN XLI p. 159 [_Fifth Edition of the Translation_] Perplext no more with Human or Divine, To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, And lose your fingers in the tresses of The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.] XXV Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after some TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzín from the Tower of Darkness cries "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There." XXVI Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so wisely--they are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. XXVII Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same door where in I went. XXVIII With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-- "I came like Water, and like Wind I go." XXIX Into this Universe, and _Why_ not knowing Nor _Whence_, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not _Whither_, willy-nilly blowing. XXX What, without asking, hither hurried _Whence_? And, without asking, _Whither_ hurried hence! Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine Must drown the memory of that insolence! XXXI Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. XXXII There was the Door to which I found no Key; There was the Veil through which I might not see: Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was--and then no more of THEE and ME. XXXIII Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn; Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal'd And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. XXXIV Then of the THEE in ME who works behind The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find A Lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard, As from Without--"THE ME WITHIN THEE BLIND!" XXXV Then to the lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd---"While you live Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return." XXXVI I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And drink; and Ah! the passive Lip I kiss'd, How many Kisses might it take--and give! XXXVII For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!" XXXVIII And has not such a Story from of Old Down Man's successive generations roll'd Of such a clod of saturated Earth Cast by the Maker into Human mould? XXXIX And not a drop that from our Cups we throw For Earth to drink of, but may steal below To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden--far beneath, and long ago. XL As then the Tulip for her morning sup Of Heav'nly Vintage from the soil looks up, Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n To Earth invert you--like an empty Cup. XLI Perplext no more with Human or Divine, To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, And lose your fingers in the tresses of The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. XLII And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Think then you are TO-DAY what YESTERDAY You were--TO-MORROW you shall not be less. XLIII So when that Angel of the darker Drink At last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink. XLIV Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him In this clay carcase crippled to abide? XLV 'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest A Sultán to the realm of Death addrest; The Sultán rises, and the dark Ferrásh Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. XLVI And fear not lest Existence closing your Account, and mine, should know the like no more; The Eternal Sákí from that Bowl has pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. XLVII When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast. XLVIII A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste-- And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd The NOTHING it set out from--Oh, make haste! XLIX Would you that spangle of Existence spend About THE SECRET--quick about it, Friend! A Hair perhaps divides the False and True-- And upon what, prithee, may life depend? L A Hair perhaps divides the False and True; Yes; and a single Alif were the clue-- Could you but find it--to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too; LI Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains; Taking all shapes from Máh to Máhi; and They change and perish all--but He remains; LII A moment guess'd--then back behind the Fold Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd Which, for the Pastime of Eternity, He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. LIII But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door, You gaze TO-DAY, while You are You--how then TO-MORROW, You when shall be You no more? LIV Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute; Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. LV You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse LVI For "IS" and "IS-NOT" though with Rule and Line And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define, Of all that one should care to fathom, I Was never deep in anything but--Wine. LVII Ah, but my Computations, People say, Reduced the Year to better reckoning?--Nay 'Twas only striking from the Calendar Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday. LVIII And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape! LIX The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute: LX The mighty Mahmúd, Allah-breathing Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword. LXI Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare? A Blessing, we should use it, should we not? And if a Curse--why, then, Who set it there? LXII I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust, Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, To fill the Cup--when crumbled into Dust! LXIII Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain--_This_ Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. LXIV Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road, Which to discover we must travel too. LXV The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep, They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd. LXVI I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return'd to me, And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell:" LXVII Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire, Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, So late emerged from, shall so soon expire. LXVIII We are no other than a moving row Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show; LXIX But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. LXX The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd you down into the Field, _He_ knows about it all--HE knows--HE knows! LXXI The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. LXXII And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to _It_ for help--for It As impotently moves as you or I. LXXIII With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read LXXIV YESTERDAY _This_ Day's Madness did prepare; TO-MORROW'S Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. LXXV I tell you this--When, started from the Goal, Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal Of Heav'n Parwín and Mushtarí they flung In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul LXXVI The Vine had struck a fibre: which about If clings my being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without. LXXVII And this I know: whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, One Flash of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. LXXVIII What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke A conscious Something to resent the yoke Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke! LXXIX What! from his helpless Creature be repaid Pure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay'd-- Sue for a Debt he never did contract, And cannot answer--Oh, the sorry trade! LXXX Oh, Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin! LXXXI Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev'n with Paradist devise the Snake: For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take! * * * * * LXXXII As under cover of departing Day Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazán away, Once more within the Potter's house alone I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay. LXXXIII Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small, That stood along the floor and by the wall; And some loquacious Vessels were; and some Listen'd perhaps, but never talk'd at all. LXXXIV Said one among them---"Surely not in vain My substance of the common Earth was ta'en And to this Figure moulded, to be broke, Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again." LXXXV Then said a Second--"Ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy; And He that with his hand the Vessel made Will surely not in after Wrath destroy." LXXXVI After a momentary silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry: What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?" LXXXVII Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot-- I think a Súfi pipkin--waxing hot-- "All this of Pot and Potter--Tell me then, Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?" LXXXVIII "Why," said another, "Some there are who tell Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell The luckless Pots he marr'd in making--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." LXXXIX "Well," murmur'd one, "Let whoso make or buy, My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry: But fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by and by." XC So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, The little Moon look'd in that all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!" * * * * * XCI Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash the Body whence the Life has died, And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf, By some not unfrequented Garden-side. XCII That ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air As not a True-believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware. XCIII Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my credit in this World much wrong: Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup And sold my Reputation for a Song. XCIV Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore--but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. XCV And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--Well, I wonder often what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell. XCVI Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows! XCVII Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd, To which the fainting Traveller might spring, As springs the trampled herbage of the field! XCVIII Would but some wingéd Angel ere too late Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate, And make the stern Recorder otherwise Enregister, or quite obliterate! XCIX Ah, Love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire! * * * * * C Yon rising Moon that looks for us again-- How oft hereafter will she wax and wane; How oft hereafter rising look for us Through this same Garden--and for _one_ in vain! CI And when like her, oh, Sákí, you shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in your Joyous errand reach the spot Where I made One--turn down an empty Glass! TAMÁM [Illustration: RUBÁIYÁT·OF·OMAR·KHAYYÁM] VARIATIONS IN THE THIRD EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION In the first draught of the Third Edition the first quatrain stood thus: Wake! For the Sun before him into Night A signal flung that put the Stars to flight; And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes The Sultán's Turret with a Shaft of Light. The tenth quatrain read thus in the Third Edition: Well, let it take them! What have we to do With Kaikobád the Great, or Kaikhosrú? Let Zál and Rustum thunder as they will, Or Hátim Tai "To supper!"--heed not you. In the first draught of Third Edition the thirty-eighth verse was as follows: For, in your Ear a moment--of the same Poor Earth from which that Human whisper came, The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast They did compose, and call'd him by the name. In the final draught of the Third Edition it was changed to read: Listen--a moment listen!--Of the same Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper came, The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast They did compose, and call'd him by the name. In the first draught of Third Edition quatrain forty ran thus: As then the Tulip from her wonted sup Of Wine from Heav'n her little Tass lifts ups Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n To Earth invert you like an empty cup. The first draught of the Third Edition carried quatrain forty-two as follows: And if the Cup, and if the Lip you press, End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Imagine then you _are_ what heretofore You _were_--hereafter you shall not be less. Quatrain forty-eight in the first draught of Third Edition read: A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste-- Before the starting Caravan has reach'd The Nothing it set out from--Oh, make haste! In the final draught of Third Edition the same stanza ran: A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste-- And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd The Nothing it set out from--Oh, make haste! In the first draught of the Third Edition, there stood the following quatrain, later deleted: Better, oh, better, cancel from the Scroll Of Universe one luckless Human Soul, Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls Hoarser with Anguish as the Ages Roll. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: 4. Because the nature of this work is to present and compare the several translations, no spelling or end of sentence punctuation corrections have been made in the Quatrains. The reader will encounter several Quatrains that end without punctuation and the word "Paradist" appearing in Quatrain LXXXI in the "Fifth Edition" may be a typographical error for "Paradise," but has been retained as printed. 5. Spelling corrections made in Biographical Preface: p. xv, "Sufi" to "Súfi" (the great Súfi poet) p. xvi, "Schegel" to "Schlegel" (August Wilhelm von Schlegel) p. xvi, "strongely" to "strongly" (strongly illustrated by) p. xviii, "perfomed" to "performed" (could have performed) 6. Word Variations: ((x) shows number of occurences) "Irám" (1) and "Iram" (2) "Mahmúd" (5) and "Máhmúd" (3) "Péhleví" (1) and "Pehleví" (2) "Rubá'iyyát" (6) and "Rubáiyát" (7) "Shiráz" (1) and "Shiraz" (1) "Sultán" (15) and "Sultan" (4) "Worshipers" (1) and "Worshipper" (2) 7. Words in the original work using the [OE] ligature, which has been recreated as "OE" in this e-text: OEdipus. 
45158	----	(Images generously made available by the Internet Archive.) JÁMÍ BY F. HADLAND DAVIS AUTHOR OF "JALÁLU'D-DÍN RÚMÍ," ETC. WISDOM OF THE EAST THE PERSIAN MYSTICS LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1918 "With men of light I sought these pearls to string, The drift of mystics' sayings forth to bring." JÁMÍ TO ALL THOSE WHO FIND IN THE WISDOM AND MYSTICISM OP THE EAST GREAT BEAUTY AND A GREAT PEACE THIS LITTLE BOOK IS INSCRIBED PREFACE In the preparation of this little volume much depended upon the kindness and generosity of certain Oriental scholars, who have allowed me to reproduce some of their translations from Jámí. I have attempted to give their best work in so far as it tends to illustrate the mystical teaching of the last great poet of Persia. Once more I am indebted to Mr. E. H. Whinfield for permission to quote from his translation of the _Lawá'ih_ (Oriental Translation Fund, New Series, vol. xvi., Royal Asiatic Society, London). I have to thank Prof. Edward G. Browne for allowing me to use his beautiful translation from _Yúsuf and Zulaikha_, which I have called "The Coming of the Beloved." This translation appears, in fuller form, in Prof. E. G. Browne's article on "Súfíism" in _Religious Systems of the World_ (Sonnenschein). The chapter in the present volume entitled "The Story of Yúsuf and Zulaikha" originally appeared in the _Orient Review_, and I am indebted to the editors for their courtesy in allowing me to reproduce it here. I very much appreciate Mr. E. Edwards's kindly interest in my work, and for the valuable suggestions he has made from time to time. I tender my thanks to Messrs. Kegan Paul for allowing me to make a selection from _Yúsuf and Zulaikha_, translated by the late Mr. Ralph T. Griffith (Trübner's Oriental Series). The translations from _Salámán and Absál_ are by Edward FitzGerald, and those from the _Baháristán_ were originally published by the Kama Shastra Society. F. HADLAND DAVIS LONDON, _March_,1908. CONTENTS INTRODUCTION I. THE LIFE OF JÁMÍ II. THE STORY OF "SALÁMÁN AND ABSÁL" III. THE TEACHING OF THE "LAWÁ'IH" IV. THE STORY OF "YÚSUF AND ZULAIKHA" V. THE "BAHÁRISTÁN," OR "ABODE OF SPRING" SELECTIONS FROM "SALÁMÁN AND ABSÁL" SELECTIONS FROM THE "LAWÁ'IH" SELECTIONS FROM "YÚSUF AND ZULAIKHA" SELECTIONS FROM THE "BAHÁRISTÁN" EDITORIAL NOTE The object of the editors of this series is a very definite one. They desire above all things that, in their humble way, these books shall be the ambassadors of good-will and understanding between East and West, the old world of Thought, and the new of Action. In this endeavour, and in their own sphere, they are but followers of the highest example in the land. They are confident that a deeper knowledge of the great ideals and lofty philosophy of Oriental thought may help to a revival of that true spirit of Charity which neither despises nor fears the nations of another creed and colour. L. CRANMER-BYNG. S. A. KAPADIA. NORTHBROOK SOCIETY, 21 CROMWELL ROAD, KENSINGTON, S.W. INTRODUCTION I. THE LIFE OF JÁMÍ Nur-addín 'Abd-alrahmán Jámí was born in Jám[1] the 23rd of Sha'bán, 817, A.H. (Nov. 7, 1414 A.D.), and died at Herát the 18th of Muharram, 898 A.H. (NOV. 9, 1492 A.D.). Dr. Hermann Ethé gives Khasjird, near Jám, as the birthplace of the poet; but as Jámí himself refers more than once to the fact of Jám being his birthplace, we must give the poet the benefit of the doubt and I trust to his good memory in the matter. The fact that Jám and Khasjird are in close proximity I has probably given rise to confusion in the matter. It will be evident that the poet took his name from the first-mentioned town. In 822 A.H. Khwájah Mohammad Pársá happened to pass through the little town of Jám, _en route_ for Hijàz. A great concourse of people came out to do the holy man honour, and among them was the little boy, Jámí, and his father. A pretty story is told of how Jámí's father seated his son in front of Khwájah's litter. I do not think the little fellow laughed very much, as most boys would have done on such a joyous occasion, because Jámí, writing on his impression of that day sixty years after, tells us that "The pure refulgence of his (Mohammad Pársá's) beaming countenance is even now, as then, clearly visible to me, and my heart still feels the joy I experienced from that happy meeting. I firmly believe that that bond of union, friendship, confidence, and love, which subsequently bound the great body of pious spirits to this humble creature, is wholly due to the fortunate influence of his glance, and most devoutly do I trust that the auspiciousness of this union may cause me to be ranked among the number of his friends." Jámí seems to have had much faith in the contact with holy men, and he attached much importance to a certain Shaikh who took him on his knee as a child. This very estimable reverence for holy men and holy things must ever remain as one of the poet's finest characteristics. We can, however, never say of Jámí that he was a man of wide sympathy. He was kind and generous towards the poor and needy; but he lamentably failed where, perhaps, he should have shone most, namely, among the literary men of his own period. He too frequently displayed a fighting spirit, where tolerance and a willingness to admit of another point of view would have shown to greater advantage. Jámí commenced his education at Herát. He strongly objected to the disciplinary methods of instruction, was not studious as a boy, and preferred games rather than the study of books. But he was naturally clever, naturally quick at absorbing knowledge with a minimum of labour. It is said of him that he used to snatch a book from one of his fellow students while on his way to school and excel them all when they were examined in class. Jámí soon left his instructor Mullá Junaid and became a pupil of Khwájah 'Alí al-Samarqandi. Jámí was so brilliant a scholar that after forty lessons further instruction from his master was quite unnecessary. After attending a series of lectures by Qazí Rúm, at Samarqand, he succeeded in getting the best of an argument with the learned professor who had given the lectures. It might have been expected that the defeat of an older man of letters than Jámí would have produced ill-feeling; but quite the contrary was the case. Qazí Rúm, before a large assembly, described Jámí thus: "Since the building of this city, no one equal, in sharpness of intellects and power of using them, to young Jámí, has ever crossed the Oxus and entered Samarqand." This was high praise indeed; but though it awakens our admiration, the fact that he dispensed with "home-work" while at school, scanned his lessons while walking past the rose-gardens, bettered his instructor in an argument, and in every way shone as a most clever young man, because he simply could not help being anything else, makes him not one whit dearer to our hearts if we expect from him something more than cleverness. Jámí had not that greatness of soul whereby to counteract the deterrent effect his conspicuous success might have upon him. In these early days of too youthful recognition we find Jámí infected with that disease commonly known as "swelled head," from which the poet never recovered. We see him too often as a little tin-god denying, with the exception of his father, all indebtedness to others for his noteworthy erudition--an absurd attitude for any one to take. He remarks: "I have found no master with whom I have read, superior to myself. On the contrary I have invariably found that, in argument, I could defeat them all. I acknowledge, therefore, the obligations of a pupil to his master to none of them; for if I am the pupil of any one, it is of my father who taught me the language." This blatantly conceited attitude is both disappointing and surprising when we remember first, that Jámí was a professed Súfí, the follower of a teaching the tenets of which are the abandonment of self and the knowledge of God only. Second, that Jámí had a very decided sense of humour, strongly in evidence in the "Sixth Garden" of his _Baháristán_, so delightfully entitled: "Blowing of the zephyrs of wit and the breezes of jocular sallies, which cause the buds of the lips to laugh and the flowers of the hearts to bloom." From these two things alone we might have expected a finer and nobler character. We must be, however, content with the life of a great literary egoist, abandon sentiment, and remember only that he has left to posterity the most polished of Persian poetry. Jámí's acceptance of Súfíism was brought about through a vision in which S'ad al-Dín appeared to him and said: "Go, O child! and wait on one who is indispensable to you." As this message was delivered by a spirit Jámí appears to have taken no objection to the word "indispensable"; but on the contrary, obeyed the command and went to S'ad al-Dín for spiritual instruction. Under this holy man Jámí lived the life of a rigid ascetic. So devoutly and so strenuously did Jámí perform his penances that when S'ad al-Dín thought fit to lessen them and allow Jámí to mix with society again, the poet found that he had lost his power of eloquence, for which he had been so justly famed, and it was some considerable time before he regained his position as a great master of rhetoric. I have already said that Jámí showed a very strong liking for holy and pious men. Particularly might be mentioned Shams al-Dín Mohammad Asad and 'Ubaid Ullah Ahrár. The last mentioned alludes to Jámí as the "flood of light," and to himself as the "small lamp." But Jámí, nevertheless, was not very optimistic in his views regarding other people. "Alas," said he, "I can find no seekers after _Truth_. Seekers there are, but they are seekers of their own prosperity." It was while making a pilgrimage to Mecca that Jámí suffered considerably from the mutilation of a passage from his _Silsilah al-Dhahab_, a passage purposely borrowed from Qazí Azád. The mutilation was performed by N'imat-i Haidarí, a native of Jám, who had accompanied Jámí to Baghdad, had quarrelled, and left the little band and some Moslims of another order. The partially suppressed passage was shown to some of the Shí'a as the work of Jámí. The poet and his followers met with a heated dispute from the people of Baghdad. Finally a meeting was called in the Madrassah of the town. A large number of excited people attended. The Hanafi and Sháfi'í churches were represented, and in front of their respective representatives sat the Governor. When the _Silsilah al-Dhahab_ was perused the piece of deception was discovered, namely, that the beginning and end had been suppressed, and a passage added likely to offend the people of Baghdad. Peace was once more restored. Jámí, however, felt justified in punishing the originators of the plot. N'imat-i Haidarí had his moustache very unceremoniously cut off, and was commanded to forfeit a pious garb with the crushing remark: "It will be necessary for you to recommend yourself to some holy man of the day, who, peradventure, may yet put you on the right way." This man's brother, who had also offended, was forced to wear a fool's cap and to ride on an ass with his head facing the animal's tail, amid the none too complimentary remarks of the Baghdad people. Although Jámí, in spite of the incident mentioned above, remained in Baghdad four months, he never forgot the insult, and expressed himself bitterly on the subject in some of his poetry. We then find our poet continuing his journey to Mecca, and both on his way to the holy city of Islam and upon his return therefrom, he met with cordial receptions from the people, who came out to do him honour. On one occasion, however, while Jámí stayed at Aleppo the Sultán of Rúm sent a messenger with a present of five thousand pieces of gold if Jámí would consent to visit Constantinople. The messenger came to Damascus only to find that Jámí had recently vacated it. The poet, hearing of the Sultán of Rúm's intentions, and wishing to avoid his munificence, took his departure to Tabríz. At this town Hasan Beg, the Governor of Kurdistan, made repeated overtures to try and persuade the poet to reside in his capital. But Jámí, making the excuse that he wished to visit his aged mother, journeyed to Khorasan. Fate, however, ordained honours and showers of gold for the none too grateful or needy Jámí, and at Khorasan he was again the recipient of many costly presents. Jámí, probably wearied with the continual adulation which he had everywhere received, now retired from public life. At this juncture little is recorded of him, and here we must leave him with one anecdote which will serve to show his ready wit: "You (_i.e._ God) so occupy my whole thoughts and vision, that whatsoever comes into view from afar appears to me to be You." "What," said a sharp contemporary, "if a jackass were to come into view?" "It would appear to me to be _you_!" was Jámí's prompt reply. II. THE STORY OF "SALÁMÁN AND ABSÁL." In this beautiful little allegory, the meaning of which is so obvious that Jámí need not have explained it in his Epilogue, we read of the Shah of Yunan. He was a king ever wisely counselled by a sage who kept the Tower of Wisdom, and might be therefore reasonably supposed to be a fit and able personage to have about the king's person. However, this sage was also a cynic. One day, after the king had poured forth a very beautiful lament on his childless marriage, and had concluded by remarking that a son was "man's prime desire," the keeper of the Tower of Wisdom supplemented his lord's remarks by describing woman as "A foolish, faithless thing," and marriage made miserable by "One little twist of temper." If the sage succeeded in frightening the king with his tirade on earthly marriage, he was certainly not successful in quelling the king's desire for a son. Of course in allegories nothing is impossible, and we are not at all surprised to find that the king's wish was fulfilled by magic! The fond father named his son Salámán and chose Absál for his nurse. Absál seems to have been delighted with her charge: As soon as she had opened eyes on him, She closed those eyes to all the world beside. By this we might well infer that Absál was a most estimable nurse. It so happened, however, that her eyes remained closed to everything else but her charge to such an alarming extent that when Salámán was fourteen years old she revealed herself, with many subtle, Zulaikha-like wiles, as his devoted lover. After the young people had spent a joyous year together, the knowledge of their attachment came to the ears of the king. That wise ruler duly admonished his wayward son and suggested hunting in preference to "dalliance unwise." The sage added his profound wisdom, as was his wont. These admonitions only resulted in the lovers fleeing the city. Across desert and sea they went until they came to a most wonderful island, the island of all earthly delights. In the meantime the Shah became aware of his son's "Soul-wasting absence." The much troubled king looked into a mirror, "Reflecting all the world," and saw the lovers on their beautiful island, "Looking only in each other's eyes, and r never finding any sorrow there." The old king, remembering, perhaps, his early days, pitied them at first. But human pity is usually short-lived. Day after day seeing the same lovelorn objects in the magic mirror, he grew very angry and decided to make the lovers' embraces impossible in future. The king succeeded in casting a spell and also in revealing his face to his son, which so pricked the young man's conscience that he and Absál left their beautiful island and returned to their city. But here Salámán was torn with conflicting thoughts about his beloved Absál. Memories of the island garden came back to him again. In this melancholy state of mind the lovers again journeyed forth into the desert, this time to cut down branches and burn themselves to death. "Hand in hand they sprang into the fire." While one little hand slipped away from its hold and one fair body fell among the flames, Salámán remained unscathed. It was after this sad scene that the sage explained the nature of Celestial Love, and revealed to Salámán's weary eyes the beautiful goddess, Zuhrah. Little by little Salámán came to regard his old earthly love as "The bondage of Absál," a thing merely of the senses, whereas this new Knowledge, this Love, belonged to the "Harvest of Eternity." And so this beautiful little poem, to put it as briefly as possible, tells of the love that binds and fetters and is corruptible, and of that other Love that is Incorruptible. III. THE TEACHING OF THE "LAWÁ'IH." The _Lawá'ih_, or "Flashes of Light," is a theological treatise based on Súfíism, and is a book of immense importance to the student of Mysticism. It will afford him a very interesting and striking parallel to Neo-Platonism (Plotinus in particular), and also to some of the Buddhistic teachings. As I have treated the subject of Súfíism, or Persian Mysticism, elsewhere,[2] I need add but few words to this particular volume of Súfí lore. The keynote to the _Lawá'ih_ is to be found in Jámí's preface. He describes the work as "Explanatory of the intuitions and verities displayed on the pages of the hearts and minds of men of insight and divine knowledge." After a request to his readers to refrain from "cavilling and animadversion," he continues, this time in verse: Believe me, I am naught--yea, less than naught. By naught and less than naught what can be taught? I tell the mysteries of truth, but know Naught save the telling to this task I brought. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * With men of light I sought these pearls to string, The drift of mystics' sayings forth to bring. The _Lawá'ih_, expounds some very beautiful and very ennobling truths. In "Flash II." Jámí pleads for the love of One and the abandonment of all little earthly loves that distract the attention of the lover for his Beloved--precisely the same theme as that expressed in _Salámán and Absál_. The poet loudly condemns "Hell-born vanity" and the accumulation of worldly wisdom, even all learning except "The lore of God." It would be a strange theme for a poet to so persistently choose were not Jámí a mystic. With the "Inner light" of the true mystic he sets aside the things of the world as being unsatisfactory. He does not, however, merely pull down the fading, ever vanishing vanities of the world, but with the strong clear voice of the poet-prophet, he sings: The fleeting phantoms you admire to-day Will soon at Heaven's behest be swept away. O give your heart to Him who never fails, Who, ever with you, and will ever stay. Jámí advocates, as others have done before him, the destruction of self in order to gain knowledge of Very Being, "Until He mingles Himself with thy soul, and thine own individual existence passes out of thy sight." The poet also discusses the question of matter being _maya_-- I delusion, the ceaseless round of "Accidents," the I ever coming and vanishing media for the revelations of the Beloved. The _Lawá'ih_ should be studied in conjunction with Mahmud Shabistari's _Gulshan-i-Raz_[3] or "The Mystic Rose Garden." The main teaching of both these books is that the indwelling of God I in the soul can only take place when that soul realises that self is a delusion, that things of this I world are but phantom-pictures coming and going, as it were, upon the surface of a mirror: Go, sweep out the chamber of your heart, Make it ready to be the dwelling-place of the Beloved. When you depart out, He will enter in, In you, void of _yourself_, will He display His beauty.[4] The phenomenal world to the Súfí was nothing more than an ever-recurring process of genesis and end: union with the Divine, annihilation of that process. The _Lawá'ih_ is deeply spiritual throughout, and full of an almost pathetic pity for those who delight in worldly pleasures and find no joy in contemplating Union with the Beloved. Jámí, after having spent considerable care on his _Lawá'ih_, and after his reader has made a strenuous effort to catch a momentary glimpse of his visionary meaning, concludes: Jámí, leave polishing of phrases, cease Writing and chanting fables, hold thy peace; Dream not that "Truth" can be revealed by words: From this fond dream, O dreamer, find release! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * How long wilt thou keep clanging like a bell? Thou'lt never come to hold the pearl of "Truth" Till thou art made all ear, as is the shell. And here we see the great mystical poet sitting, like a little child listening to a tale that is told, quelled into reverential silence by the greatness of the theme. It is in silence, in the quiet places of our hearts, rather than on the housetops of much controversy, that we can hear the sweet call of the Beloved and forget the clanging of the world in the Great Peace which He alone can give. IV. THE STORY OF YÚSUF AND ZULAIKHA. _Yúsuf and Zulaikha_, like _Salámán and Absál,_ belongs to the series of poems known as the _Haft Aurang_. Jámí heralds his poem with a good deal of laudacious singing on the Prophet, Beauty, Love, and concludes by remarking that the loves of Majnún and Laila "have had their day," and makes this excuse for weaving another love poem on another theme. But this scheme was scarcely original, Firdawsí and Ansari having previously composed poems on a similar subject. However, the tongue of the critic is surely silenced by these humble lines: If here and there a slip or fault you see, May he not lay the blame of all on me. May he correct my errors, or befriend With generous silence faults he cannot mend. If the work be regarded as a love poem, without its mystical interpretation, Yúsuf may well be regarded as a cold, statuesque young man of the St. Anthony type, but cast in a more beautiful mould. While we may equally well regard Zulaikha as a passionate young lady sadly lacking in worldly wisdom. The coldness of Yúsuf would probably irritate us were we not frequently reminded of the way in which poor Zulaikha plagues him with her too constant attentions. Neither strike us as being very ordinary human people for precisely reverse reasons. There are occasions, however, when Zulaikha awakens our sympathy. It is touching to note that when she finds her own love slighted she should send other women to try their fortune with him, intending, should they succeed, to subtly take their place by strategy of some kind. Again, in the splendid Palace of Pleasure, painted all over, floor and wall and ceiling, with love-entwined figures of Yúsuf and Zulaikha, there is an idol--"A golden idol with jewelled eyes," representing this fatuous woman's love. The idol is placed behind a curtain, and on Yúsuf asking the reason, Zulaikha replies: If I swerve from religion I would not be Where the angry eyes of my god may see. Then we watch the honeyed sweetness of Zulaikha's passion burst forth into bitter hate and shameless lying. We see the proud, chaste Yúsuf cast into prison on false pretences and quite melodramatically freed by the marvellous utterance of a babe at its mother's breast.[5] But Zulaikha finds the gossip of Memphis hard to be borne--the insinuations, the sneers, the cruel reproaches for the unrequited and ill-fated love of hers. Moreover, Zulaikha, like the women of Austria at the beginning of the eighteenth century,[6] had a husband as well as a lover, Potiphar, Grand Vizier of Egypt. These two concocted a scandalous story, which was easily set going and as easily believed by the common people. It resulted in Yúsuf being again sent to prison. At this point of the poem we are once more reminded of the Bible story of Joseph, for Jámí also mentions the interpretation of Pharaoh's dream, the release of the interpreter, and the unlimited power as the king's right hand that followed. So we watch Yúsuf rise from slave to be the king's chief adviser, and in consequence the fall of the Grand Vizier and Zulaikha. The success of Yúsuf awakens little admiration. He is so far from being human that we should not have been very surprised if he had eaten one of the Pyramids. But Zulaikha's condition is to be pitied. She is now a widow. Her jewels are gone, her dress is in rags, there are wrinkles in her once beautiful face, and her back is bent. But more than all these trials is the loss of her eyesight. We see her crouching in the road, listening eagerly for the sound of the coming of the proud Yúsuf on his wonderful steed,[7] happy to feel the dust of his passing procession. There is a note of real pathos in this scene. We see for the first time, perhaps, that Zulaikha's passion is changing into a fairer, nobler thing. Sometimes the boys who preceded Yúsuf would shout to her as she sat by her cottage of reeds, "Yúsuf is nigh!" But Zulaikha's heart, sore and hungry and yearning, knew better than they the approach of her lord. The eyes that had seen the Palace of Pleasure saw more now that they were blind! And yet the old passion had not quite burnt itself out. We see the bent form crouching on the ground, feeling the statue of her Yúsuf with her thin, trembling fingers, and piteously praying for some recognition. The sound of Yúsuf's steed is heard in the distance, and a great shout rends the air: "Make room! Make room!" Zulaikha again crouches in the roadway. How long has she "made room" for the selfish and unfeeling ambitions of a man who was once her pampered slave! It is then, for the first time, that the soul of Zulaikha asserts itself and the mysticism of the poem becomes strongly evident. The material spell of a fleshly love is broken at last. In humility and absolute resignation Zulaikha shatters her once dear idol, destroys a sordid and hopeless dream. Her red rose of passion is turned into a white one, as she fervently cries: O God, who lovest the humble, Thou To whom idols, their makers, their servants bow; 'Tis to the light which Thy splendour lends To the idol's face that its worshipper bends. Still more triumphant are her words: Glory to God! to a monarch's state He has cast the king from his glory down, And set on the head of a servant his crown. These words sufficiently interest Yúsuf to ask, "Who is this bedeswoman?" and eventually to win an interview for the poor "Unpitied, forgotten, disgraced woman." Yúsuf does not proceed to moralise; but he does not dispense with frigid formalities beyond calling her Zulaikha and offering, in a studied kind of way, to do anything for her that she may desire. Zulaikha asks for beauty, youth, and the power to win his love. Yúsuf grants her first two wishes, and the decrepit old woman is changed into the ravishingly beautiful Zulaikha of eighteen. But Yúsuf,[8] cold even now, in silence turns in prayer to Heaven, and takes Gabriel's word rather than his own conviction that he is doing well to marry her at last. Here the late Mr. Ralph Griffith's translation of _Yúsuf and Zulaikha_ ends, and the curious and farseeing might be pardoned for conjecturing an unhappy marriage under these remarkably one-sided circumstances. But in the original the poem does not end here. For the advantage of optimistic believers in marriage, I may add that these two people had an almost unending honeymoon. Remarkable as it may appear, Zulaikha actually became religious, for which altogether wonderful and unexpected event the now kindly Yúsuf built her a most beautiful House of Prayer. The canto entitled "The Longed-for Death" is a little disconcerting, perhaps, but we may reasonably suppose that Yúsuf became religious too, and was not in any way uncomplimentary to his beautiful bride. His death was well arranged, and he was shortly joined by the soul of Zulaikha. This, then, is & brief sketch of _Yúsuf and Zulaikha_. Like _Salámán and Absál_ it is intended to reveal the beauty of the Beloved; that He can be only approached after much purification, when the physical form ceases to blind the soul's outlook, and only when we realise that passion is an idol that must be broken, and Love the pure Light that shines alone from Him. V. THE "BAHÁRISTÁN," OR "ABODE OF SPRING" The _Baháristán_, or "Abode of Spring," is admitted by Jámí to be an imitation of Sa'di's _Gulistán_, or "Rose Garden." The idea of arranging a book of verse and prose into a series of "Gardens" was a very beautiful one. Two other books compiled on similar lines are Sa'di's _Bústán_, or "Orchard," and the _Nigaristán_, or "Picture Gallery," by Mu'in-uddin Jawini, which appeared in 1334 A.D. Sir Edwin Arnold's _With Sa'di in a Garden_ gives the Westerner some idea of the beauty of Eastern gardens, and this particular garden is rendered all the more delectable because it holds a greater beauty than the loveliest garden, the Taj Mahal itself. Sir Edwin transfers Persian poetry to an Indian garden, which is not very dissimilar to the beautiful gardens of Shiraz. Professor A. V. Williams Jackson[9] describes the _Bagh-i-Takht_, "Garden of the Throne," thus: "Terrace rises above terrace, and fountain, channel, and stream pour their waters in cascades over slabs of marble into reservoirs faced with stone--the walks bordered with cypress and orange trees." It would be interesting to know if the terraces in any way corresponded with the idea of naming and numbering the "Gardens" in Jámí's _Baháristán._ A beautiful mosque, a bower of roses, running water; might not these things alone have suggested to the poet's mind "The pavilion of Excellency, Love, and Laughter?" The _Baháristán_ has a distinct interest apart from its literary merit. It appears to have been written by Jámí for the instruction of his "darling and beloved son Ziá-uddin-Yúsuf." The poet-father goes on to say, "That young boys and inexperienced youths become very disheartened and unhappy when they receive instruction in idiomatic expressions they are not accustomed to." Although Jámí allowed his son to read the _Gulistán_, he evidently thought the last word had not yet been written in the interests of instructing the young, and thus conceived the idea of writing the _Baháristán_. One is so apt to see printed requests in the public gardens of England that it seems a little ironical to come across the following in the literary "Gardens" of Jámí: "It is requested that the promenaders in these gardens--which contain no thorns to give offence, nor rubbish displayed for interested purposes,--walking through them with sympathetic steps and looking at them carefully, will bestow their good wishes, and rejoice with praise the gardener who has spent much trouble and great exertions in planning and cultivating these gardens." In regard to the statement that the _Gardens_ "contain no Thorns to give offence," I, for one, must beg to differ. One ugly weed there is which the gardener would have done well to destroy in his otherwise very beautiful garden. The _Baháristán_ is divided into eight "Gardens." The _First_ deals with the sayings and doings of the saintly, wise, and those "who occupy the chief seats in the pavilion of Excellency." The _Second_ with philosophical subtleties. The _Third_ with Justice, Equity, Government, and Administration, and in general "to show the wisdom of Sultáns." The _Fourth_ with Liberality and Generosity. The _Fifth_ with Love. The _Sixth_ with "Blowing of the zephyrs of wit, and the breezes of jocular sallies, which cause the buds of the lips to laugh and the flowers of the hearts; to bloom." The _Seventh_ with a selection from the work of Persian poets. The _Eighth_, and last, with animal stories. [Footnote 1: See Preface to _Lives of the Mystics_. By Nassan Lees. Calcutta, 1859.] [Footnote 2: _The Persian Mystics_: Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí. "Wisdom of the East" Series.] [Footnote 3: See E. H. Whinfield's translation.] [Footnote 4: _Gulshan-i-Raz_. Translated by E. H. Whinfield.] [Footnote 5: Compare the miraculous speaking of the babe Jesus in a cave, mentioned in the New Testament Apocryphal Writings.] [Footnote 6: See the Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.] [Footnote 7: Compare Firdawsí's description of the horse Rakush in the _Shahnámá_. Also Kyrat, the wonderful steed of the bandit-poet, Kurroglou.] [Footnote 8: Compare Rama's attitude after the destruction of Lanka.] [Footnote 9: _Persia Past and Present. A Book of Travel and Research._] SELECTIONS FROM "SALÁMÁN AND ABSÁL" The guests have drunk the wine and are departed, Leaving their empty bowls behind--not one To carry on the revel, cup in hand! Up, Jámí, then! And whether lees or wine To offer--boldly offer it in thine! And yet, how long, Jámí, is this old house Stringing thy pearls upon a harp of song? Year after year striking up some new song, The breath of some old story? Life is gone, And yet the song is not the last; my soul Is spent--and still a story to be told! SALÁMÁN AND ABSÁL. "THOU MOVEST UNDER ALL THE FORMS OF TRUTH" O Thou, whose memory quickens lovers' souls, Whose fount of joy renews the lover's tongue, Thy shadow falls across the world, and they Bow down to it; and of the rich in beauty Thou art the riches that make lovers mad. Not till Thy secret beauty through the cheek Of Laila smite does she inflame Majnún, And not till Thou have sugar'd Shírín's lip The hearts of those two lovers fill with blood. For lov'd and lover are not but by Thee, Nor beauty; mortal beauty but the veil Thy heavenly hides behind, and from itself Feeds, and our hearts yearn after as a bride That glances past us veil'd--but even so As none the beauty from the veil may know. How long wilt Thou continue thus the world To cozen with the phantom of a veil From which Thou only peepest?--Time it is To unfold Thy perfect beauty. I would be Thy lover, and Thine only--I, mine eyes Seal'd in the light of Thee to all but Thee, Yea, in the revelation of Thyself Self-lost, and conscience-quit of good and evil. Thou movest under all the forms of truth, Under the forms of all created things; Look whence I will, still nothing I discern But Thee in all the universe. "MAN'S PRIME DESIRE" O thou whose wisdom is the rule of kings-- (Glory to God who gave it!)--answer me: Is any blessing better than a son? Man's prime desire; by which his name and he Shall live beyond himself; by whom his eyes Shine living, and his dust with roses blows; A foot for thee to stand on he shall be, A hand to stop thy falling; in his youth Thou shalt be young, and in his strength be strong; Sharp shall he be in battle as a sword, A cloud of arrows on the enemy's head; His voice shall cheer his friends to better plight, And turn the foeman's glory into flight. LUST Lust that makes blind the reason; lust that makes A devil's self seem angel to our eyes; A cataract that, carrying havoc with it, Confounds the prosperous house; a road of mire Where whoso falls he rises not again; A wine of which whoever tastes shall see Redemption's face no more--one little sip Of that delicious and unlawful drink, Making crave much, and hanging round the palate Till it become a ring to lead thee by (Putting the rope in a vain woman's hand), Till thou thyself go down the Way of Nothing. THE BABY DARLING As soon as she had opened eyes on him, She closed those eyes to all the world beside, And her soul crazed, a-doting on her jewel,-- Her jewel in a golden cradle set; Opening and shutting which her day's delight, To gaze upon his heart-inflaming cheek-- Upon the darling whom, could she, she would Have cradled as the baby of her eye. In rose and musk she wash'd him--to his lips Press'd the pure sugar from the honeycomb; And when, day over, she withdrew her milk, She made, and having laid him in, his bed, Burn'd all night like a taper o'er his head. Then still as morning came, and as he grew, She dressed him like a little idol up; On with his robe--with fresh collyrium dew Touch'd his narcissus eyes--the musky locks Divided from his forehead--and embraced With gold and ruby girdle his fine waist. "THE MOON AND ROSES" Sat a lover solitary Self-discoursing in a corner, Passionate and ever-changing Invocation pouring out: Sometimes sun and moon; and sometimes Under hyacinth half-hidden Roses; or the lofty cypress, And the little weed below. Nightingaling thus a noodle Heard him, and, completely puzzled,-- "What!" quoth he, "and you, a lover, Raving not about your mistress, But about the moon and roses!" Answer'd he: "O thou that aimest Wide of love, and lover's language Wholly misinterpreting; Sun and moon are but my lady's Self, as any lover knows; Hyacinth I said, and meant her Hair--her cheek was in the rose-- And I myself the wretched weed That in her cypress shadow grows." THE WILES OF ABSÁL Now from her hair would twine a musky chain, To bind his heart--now twist it into curls Nestling innumerable temptations; Doubled the darkness of her eyes with surma To make him lose his way, and over them Adorn'd the bows that were to shoot him then; Fresh rose, and then a grain of musk lay there, The bird of the beloved heart to snare. Now to the rose-leaf of her cheek would add, Now with a laugh would break the ruby seal That, lockt up pearl; or busied in the room Would smite her hand, perhaps--on that pretence To lift and show the silver in her sleeve; Or hastily rising, dash her golden anklets To draw the crowned head under her feet. Thus by innumerable bridal wiles She went about soliciting his eyes, Which she would scarce let lose her for a moment; For well she knew that mainly by the eye Love makes his sign, and by no other road Enters and takes possession of the heart. LOVE'S EARTHLY WAY Now when Salámán's heart turned to Absál, Her star was happy in the heavens--old Love Put forth afresh--Desire doubled his bond: And of the running time she watch'd an hour To creep into the mansion of her moon And satiate her soul upon his lips. And the hour came; she stole into his chamber-- Ran up to him, Life's offer in her hand-- And, falling like a shadow at his feet, She laid her face beneath. Salámán then With all the courtesies of princely grace Put forth his hand--he rais'd her in his arms-- He held her trembling there--and from that fount Drew first desire; then deeper from her lips, That, yielding, mutually drew from his A wine that ever drawn from never fail'd. So through the day--so through another still. The day became a seventh--the seventh a moon-- The moon a year--while they rejoiced together, Thinking their pleasure never was to end. But rolling Heaven whisper'd from his ambush, "So in my license is it not set down. Ah for the sweet societies I make At morning and before the nightfall break! Ah for that bliss that with the setting sun I mix, and, with his rising, all is done!" REASON Reason that rights the retrograde--completes The imperfect--reason that unites the knot; For reason is the fountain from of old From which the prophets drew, and none beside. Who boasts of other inspiration lies-- There are no other prophets than the wise. THE MOON OF LOVE O Shah, I am the slave of thy desire, Dust of thy throne, ascending foot am I; Whatever thou desirest I would do, But sicken of my own incompetence; Not in the hand of my infirmer will To carry into deed mine own desire. Time upon time I torture mine own soul, Devising liberation from the snare I languish in. But when upon that moon I _think_, my soul relapses; and when _look_-- I leave both worlds behind to follow her! LOVE Without my lover, Were my chamber Heaven's horizon, It were closer than an ant's eye; And the ant's eye wider were Than Heaven, my lover with me there! MORTAL PARAMOUR The Almighty hand that mix'd thy dust inscribed The character of wisdom on thy heart; O cleanse thy bosom of material form, And turn the mirror of the soul to spirit, Until it be with spirit all possest, Crown'd in the light of intellectual truth. O veil thine eyes from mortal paramour, And follow not her step! For what is she?-- What is she but a vice and a reproach, Her very garment-hem pollution! For such pollution madden not thine eyes, Waste not thy body's strength, nor taint thy soul, Nor set the body and the soul in strife! Supreme is thine original degree, Thy star upon the top of heaven; but lust Will fling it down even unto the dust! THE DIVINE UNION Whisper'd one to Wámik, "O thou Victim of the wound of Azra, What is it like, that a shadow Movest thou about in silence Meditating night and day?" Wámik answer'd, "Even this-- To fly with Azra to the desert: There by so remote a fountain That, whichever way one travell'd League on league, one yet should never, Never meet the face of man-- There to pitch my tent--for ever There to gaze on my Belovèd; Gaze, till gazing out of gazing Grew to being her I gaze on, She and I no more, but in one Undivided being blended. All that is not One must ever Suffer with the wound of absence; And whoever in Love's city Enters, finds but room for One, And but in Oneness Union." "DO WELL" Do well, that in thy turn well may betide thee; And turn from ill, that ill may turn beside thee. THE MAGIC MIRROR Then bade he bring a mirror that he had, A mirror, like the bosom of the wise, Reflecting all the world, and lifting up The veil from all its secret, good and evil. That mirror bade he bring, and, in its face Looking, beheld the face of his Desire, He saw those lovers in the solitude, Turn'd from the world, and all its ways and people, And looking only in each other's eyes, And never finding any sorrow there. A LAMENT O thou whose presence so long sooth'd my soul, Now burnt with thy remembrance! O so long The light that fed these eyes now dark with tears! O long, long home of love now lost for ever! We were together--that was all enough-- We two rejoicing in each other's eyes, Infinitely rejoicing--all the world Nothing to us, nor we to all the world: No road to reach us, nor an eye to watch-- All day we whisper'd in each other's ears, All night we slept in one another's arms-- All seem'd to our desire, as if the hand Of unjust Fortune were for once too short. O would to God that when I lit the pyre The flame had left thee living and me dead, Not living worse than dead, depriv'd of thee! O were I but with thee! at any cost Stript of this terrible self-solitude! O but with thee annihilation--lost, Or in eternal intercourse renew'd! "THE HARVEST OF ETERNITY" My son, the kingdom of the world is not Eternal, nor the sum of right desire! Make thou the faith-preserving intellect Thy counsellor; and considering to-day To-morrow's seed-field, ere that come to bear Sow with the harvest of eternity. SELECTIONS FROM THE LÁWA'IH Believe me, I am naught--yea, less than naught, By naught and less than naught what can be taught? I tell the mysteries of truth, but know Naught save the telling to this task I brought. LAWÁ'IH. "DELIVER US FROM OURSELVES" O God, deliver us from preoccupation with worldly vanities, and show us the nature of things "as they really are." Remove from our eyes the veil of ignorance, and show us things as they really are. Show not to us non-existence as existent, nor cast the veil of non-existence over the beauty of existence. Make this phenomenal world the mirror to reflect the manifestations of thy beauty, and not a veil to separate and repel us from Thee. Cause these unreal phenomena of the universe to be for us the sources of knowledge and insight, and not the cause of ignorance and blindness. Our alienation and severance from Thy beauty all proceed from ourselves. Deliver us from ourselves, and accord to us intimate knowledge of Thee. "MAKE MY HEART PURE" Make my heart pure, my soul from error free, Make tears and sighs my daily lot to be, And lead me on Thy road away from self, That lost to self I may approach to Thee! Set enmity between the world and me, Make me averse from worldly company: From other objects turn away my heart, So that it is engrossed with love to Thee. How were it, Lord, if Thou should'st set me free From error's grasp and cause me truth to see? Guebres[1] by scores Thou makest Musulmans, Why, then, not make a Musulman of me? My lust for this world and the next efface, Grant me the crown of poverty and grace To be partaker in Thy mysteries, From paths that lead not towards Thee turn my face. ONE HEART, ONE LOVE O votary of earthly idols' fane, Why let these veils of flesh enwrap thy brain? 'Tis folly to pursue a host of loves; A single heart can but one love contain! O thou whose heart is torn by lust for all, Yet vainly strives to burst these bonds of all, This "all" begets distraction of the heart: Give up thy heart to ONE and break with all.[2] "THE ABSOLUTE BEAUTY" The Absolute Beauty is the Divine Majesty endued with [the attributes of] power and bounty. Every beauty and perfection manifested in the theatre of the various grades of beings is a ray of His perfect beauty reflected therein. It is from these rays that exalted souls have received their impress of beauty and their quality of perfection. Whosoever is wise derives his wisdom from Divine wisdom. "MY LOVE STOOD BY ME AT THE DAWN OF DAY" My love stood by me at the dawn of day, And said, "To grief you make my heart a prey Whilst I am casting looks of love at you, Have you no shame to turn your eyes away?" All my life long I tread love's path of pain, If peradventure "Union" I may gain. Better to catch one moment's glimpse of Thee Than earthly beauties' love through life retain. GOD THE ONLY LOVE ETERNAL Yesterday this universe neither existed nor appeared to exist, while to-day it appears to exist but has no real existence: it is a mere semblance, and to-morrow nothing thereof will be seen. What does it profit thee to allow thyself to be guided by vain passions and desires? Why dost thou place reliance on these transitory objects that glitter with false lustre? Turn thy heart away from all of them, and firmly attach it to God. Break loose from all these, and cleave closely to Him. It is only He who always has been and always will continue to be. The countenance of His eternity is never scarred by the thorn of contingency. FINITE AND INFINITE BEAUTY The Loved One's rose-parterre I went to see, That beauty's Torch espied me, and, quoth He, "I am the tree; these flowers My offshoots are. Let not these offshoots hide from thee the tree." What profit rosy cheeks, forms full of grace, And ringlets clustering round a lovely face? When Beauty Absolute beams all around, Why linger finite beauties to embrace? HOW TO OBTAIN UNION WITH THE DIVINE In like manner, as it behoves thee to maintain the said relation continuously, so it is of the first importance to develop one quality thereof by detaching thyself from mundane relations and by emancipating thyself from attention to contingent forms; and this is possible only through hard striving and earnest endeavour to expel vain thoughts and imaginations from thy mind. The more these thoughts are cast out and these suggestions checked, the stronger and closer this relation becomes. It is, then, necessary to use every endeavour to force these thoughts to encamp outside the enclosure of thy breast, and that the "Truth" most glorious may cast His beams into thy heart, and deliver thee from thyself, and save thee from the trouble of entertaining His rivals in thy heart. Then there will abide with-thee neither consciousness of thyself, nor even consciousness of such absence of consciousness--nay, there will abide nothing save the One God alone. TRUTH In the fair idols, goal of ardent youth, And in all cynosures lies hid the "Truth"; What, seen as relative, appears the world, Viewed in its essence is the very "Truth." When in His partial modes Truth shone out plain, Straightway appeared this world of loss and gain; Were it and all who dwell there gathered back Into the Whole, the "Truth" would still remain. "THE GLORIOUS GOD" The glorious God, whose bounty, mercy, grace, And loving-kindness all the world embrace, At every moment brings a world to naught, And fashions such another in its place. All gifts soever unto God are due, Yet special gifts from special "Names" ensue; At every breath one "Name" annihilates, And one creates all outward things anew.[3] THE GOD BEHIND THE VEIL "O fairest rose, with rosebud mouth," I sighed, "Why, like coquettes, thy face for ever hide?" He smiled, "Unlike the beauties of the earth, Even when veiled I still may be described." Thy face uncovered would be all too bright, Without a veil none could endure the sight; What eye is strong enough to gaze upon The dazzling splendour of the fount of light? When the sun's banner blazes in the sky, Its light gives pain by its intensity, But when 'tis tempered by a veil of cloud That light is soft and pleasant to the eye. THE DIVINE SELF-SUFFICIENCY Absolute self-sufficiency is a quality involved in Divine Perfection. It signifies this, that in a general and universal manner all the modes, states, and aspects of the One Real Being, with all their adherent properties and qualities, in all their presentations, past, present, or future, manifested in all grades of substances, divine and mundane, are present and realised in the secret thought of that Divine Being, in such wise that the sum of them all is contained in His Unity. From this point of view He is independent of all other existences; as it is said, "God most glorious can do without the world." OUR NEED OF THE BELOVED O Thou whose sacred precincts none may see, Unseen Thou makest all things seen to be; Thou and we are not separate, yet still Thou hast no need of us, but we of Thee. None by endeavour can behold Thy face, Or access gain without prevenient grace; For every man some substitute is found, Thou hast no peer, and none can take Thy place. Of accident or substance Thou hast nought, Without constraint of cause Thy grace is wrought; Thou canst replace what's lost, but if Thou'rt lost, In vain a substitute for Thee is sought. In me Thy beauty love and longing wrought; Did I not seek Thee, how wouldst Thou be sought? My love is as a mirror in the which Thy beauty into evidence is brought. O Lord, none but Thyself can fathom Thee, Yet every mosque and church doth harbour Thee; I know the seekers and what 'tis they seek-- Seekers and sought are all comprised in Thee. THE UNIVERSE A NUMBER OF "ACCIDENTS" The universe, together with its parts, is nothing but a number of accidents, ever changing and being renewed at every breath, and linked together in a single substance, and at each instant disappearing and being replaced by a similar set. In consequence of this rapid succession, the spectator is deceived into the belief that the universe is a permanent existence. THE HIDDEN TRUTH The ocean does not shrink or vaster grow, Though the waves ever ebb and ever flow; The being of the world's a wave: it lasts One moment, and the next it has to go. In the world, men of insight may discern A stream whose currents swirl and surge and churn, And from the force that works within the stream The hidden working of the "Truth" may learn. "THE GREAT IDEALIST" Philosophers devoid of reason find This world a mere idea of the mind; 'Tis an idea--but they fail to see The great Idealist who looms behind. THE SEA OF BEING Being's a sea in constant billows rolled, 'Tis but these billows that we men behold; Sped from within, they rest upon the sea, And like a veil its actual form enfold. Being's the essence of the Lord of all, All things exist in Him and He in all; This is the meaning of the Gnostic phrase, "All things are comprehended in the All." THE REVELATION OF TRUTH The Majesty of the "Truth" most glorious is revealed in two manners--the first the inward, subjective revelation, which the Súfís name "Most Holy Emanation"; it consists in the self-manifestation of the "Truth" to His own consciousness from all eternity under the forms of substances, their characteristics and capacities. The second revelation is the outward objective manifestation, which is called "Holy Emanation"; it consists in the manifestation of the "Truth," with the impress of the properties and marks of the same substances. This second revelation ranks after the first; it is the theatre wherein are manifested to sight the perfections which in the first revelation were contained potentially in the characteristics and capacities of the substances. "'TIS HE WHO LIVES WITHIN OUR FORMS" Both power and being are denied to us, The lack of both is what's ordained for us; But since 'tis He who lives within our forms, Both power and action are ascribed to us. Your "self" is non-existent, knowing one! Deem not your actions by yourself are done; Make no wry faces at this wholesome truth-- "Build the wall ere the fresco is begun." Why vaunt thy "self" before those jealous eyes? Why seek to deal in this false merchandise? Why feign to be existent of thyself? Down with these vain conceits and foolish lies! MIRROR AND FACE They say, "How strange! This peerless beauty's face Within the mirror's heart now holds a place!" The marvel's not the face, the marvel is That it should be at once mirror and face. All mirrors in the universe I ween Display Thy image with its radiant sheen-- Nay, in them all, so vast Thy effluent grace, 'Tis Thyself, not Thine image, that is seen. [Footnote 1: Magians and Zoroastrians.] [Footnote 2: The first verse belongs to "Flash I.," the second to "Flash II.," but I have thought it wise to couple them together on account of the unity of their meaning.] [Footnote 3: That is to say that a portion of the material world, through the mercy of God, is capable of receiving Very Being, and thus the phenomenon becomes Very Being externalised. But Omnipotence requires the total destruction of all phenomena and all multiplicity of the same substance. The process is repeated _ad infinitum_. "The Names" are mentioned in the _Masnavi_. See also Professor R. A. Nicholson's _Divaní Shamsi Tabríz_, p. 71.] SELECTIONS FROM "YÚSUF AND ZULAIKHA" Lips sweet as sugar on my pen bestow, And from my book let streams of odour flow. YÚSUF AND ZULAIKHA. THE COMING OF THE BELOVED In solitude, where Being signless dwelt, And all the universe still dormant lay Concealed in selflessness, One Being was Exempt from "I" or "Thou"-ness, and apart From all duality; Beauty Supreme, Unmanifest, except unto Itself By Its own lights yet fraught with power to charm The souls of all; concealed in the Unseen, An Essence pure, unstained by aught of ill. No mirror to reflect Its loveliness, Nor comb to touch Its locks; the morning breeze Ne'er stirred Its tresses; no collyrium Lent lustre to Its eyes; no rosy cheeks O'ershadowed by dark curls like hyacinth Nor peach-like down were there; no dusky mole Adorned Its face; no eye had yet beheld Its image. To Itself it sang of Love In wordless measures. By Itself it cast The die of Love. But Beauty cannot brook Concealment and the veil, nor patient rest Unseen and unadmired; 'twill burst all bonds, And from Its prison-casement to the world Reveal Itself. See where the tulip grows In upland meadows, how in balmy spring It decks itself; and how amidst its thorns The wild rose rends its garment, and reveals Its loveliness. Thou too, when some rare thought, Or beauteous image, or deep mystery Flashes across thy soul, canst not endure To let it pass, but holdst it, that perchance In speech or writing thou mayst send it forth To charm the world. Whatever beauty dwells, Such is its nature, and its heritage From Everlasting Beauty, which emerged From realms of purity to shine upon The worlds, and all the souls which dwell therein. One gleam fell from It on the universe And on the angels, and this single ray Dazzled the angels, till their senses whirled Like the revolving sky. In diverse forms Each mirror showed it forth, and everywhere Its praise was chanted in new harmonies. The cherubim, enraptured, sought for songs Of praise. The spirits who explore the depths Of boundless seas, wherein the heavens swim Like some small boat, cried with one mighty voice, "Praise to the Lord of all the universe!" "BEHOLD THOSE SPHERES" Behold those spheres for ever circling, bound With-scarves of azure, in their mystic round. See, their light mantles loosely floating throw A flood of radiance on the world below. See them pursuing through the night and day, True to their purpose, their triumphant way. Each, like a player's ball obedient, still Is moved and guided by superior will. One eastward from the west its journey bends, The other's ship to western waves descends. Each in due progress with alternate sway Lights the still night or cheers the busy day. One writes fair lines that promise golden joys: One with sad aspect bonds of bliss destroys. All, joying in their might, their task renew, And with untiring haste their course pursue. Onward for ever to the goal they press With feet and loins that know not weariness. Who learns the secret of their dark intent? Who knows on whom each wanderer's face is bent? LOVE No heart is that which love ne'er wounded: they Who know not lovers' pangs are soulless clay. Turn from the world, O turn thy wandering feet; Come to the world of Love and find it sweet. THE WAYS OF LOVE Once to his master a disciple cried:-- "To wisdom's pleasant path be thou my guide." "Hast thou ne'er loved?" the master answered; "learn The ways of love and then to me return." Drink deep of earthly love, that so thy lip May learn the wine of holier love to sip. But let not form too long thy soul entrance: Pass o'er the bridge; with rapid feet advance. If thou wilt rest, thine ordered journey sped, Forbear to linger at the bridge's head. "IF THE SUN'S SPLENDOUR NEVER DIED AWAY" In this orchestra full of vain deceit The drum of Being, each in turn, we beat. Each morning brings new truth to light and fame, And on the world falls lustre from a name. If in one constant course the ages rolled, Full many a secret would remain untold. If the sun's splendour never died away, Ne'er would the market of the stars be gay. If in our gardens endless frost were king, No rose would blossom at the kiss of Spring. THE BEAUTY OF ZULAIKHA Her face was the garden of Iram, where Roses of every hue are fair. The dusky moles that enhanced the red Were like Moorish boys playing in each rose-bed. Of silver that paid no tithe, her chin Had a well with the Water of Life therein. If a sage in his thirst came near to drink, He would feel the spray ere he reached the brink, But lost were his soul if he nearer drew, For it was a well and a whirlpool too. Her neck was of ivory. Thither drawn, Came with her tribute to beauty the fawn; And the rose hung her head at the gleam of the skin Of shoulders fairer than jasmine. Her breasts were orbs of a light most pure, Twin bubbles new-risen from fount Kafur,[1] Two young pomegranates grown on one spray, Where bold hope never a ringer might lay. The touchstone itself was proved false when it tried Her arms' fine silver thrice purified; But the pearl-pure amulets fastened there Were the hearts of the holy absorbed in prayer. SELF DIES IN LOVE "I shall roll up the carpet of life when I see Thy dear face again, and shall cease to be, For self will be lost in that rapture, and all The threads of my thought from my hand will fall; Not me wilt thou find, for this self will have fled: Thou wilt be my soul in mine own soul's stead. All thought of self will be swept from my mind, And thee, only thee, in my place shall I find; More precious than heaven, than earth more dear, Myself were forgotten if thou wert near." "MINE EYES HAVE BEEN TOUCHED" "Mine eyes have been touched by the Truth's pure ray, And the dream of folly has passed away. Mine eyes thou hast opened--God bless thee for it!-- And my heart to the Soul of the soul thou hast knit. From a fond strange love thou hast turned my feet The Lord of all creatures to know and meet; If I bore a tongue in each single hair, Each and all should thy praise declare." ZULAIKHA PLEADS WITH YÚSUF FOR HIS LOVE "By the excellent bloom of that cheek which He gave, By that beauty which makes the whole world thy slave; By the splendour that beams from that beautiful brow, That bids the full moon to thy majesty bow; By the graceful gait of that cypress, by The delicate bow that is bent o'er thine eye; By that arch of the temple devoted to prayer, By each fine-woven mesh of the coils of thy hair; By that charming narcissus, that form arrayed In the sheen and glory of silk brocade; By that secret thou callest a mouth, by the hair Thou callest the waist of that body most fair By the musky spots on thy cheek's pure rose, By the smile of thy lips when those buds unclose, By my longing tears, by the sigh and groan That rend my heart as I pine alone; By thine absence, a mountain too heavy to bear, By my thousand fetters of grief and care; By the sovereign sway of my passion, by My carelessness whether I live or die; Pity me, pity my lovelorn grief: Loosen my fetters and grant relief: An age has scorched me since over my soul The soft sweet air of thy garden stole. Be the balm of my wounds for a little; shed Sweet scent on the heart where the flowers are dead I hunger for thee till my whole frame is weak: O give me the food for my soul which I seek." THE HORSE OF YÚSUF In his stalls had Yúsuf a fairy steed, A courser through space of no earthly breed; Swift as the heavens, and black and white With a thousand patches of day and night; Now a jetty spot, now a starry blaze, Like Time with succession of nights and days. With his tail the heavenly Virgo's hair, With his hoof the moon, was afraid to compare. Each foot with a golden new moon was shod, And the stars of its nails struck the earth as he trod. When his hoof smote sharp on the rugged flint A planet flashed forth from the new moon's dint; And a new moon rose in the sky when a shoe From the galloping foot of the courser flew. Like an arrow shot through its side in the chase. He outstripped the game in the deadly race. At a single bound he would spring, unpressed, With the lightning's speed from the east to the west. THE FREEING OF ZULAIKHA'S SOUL "O thou who hast broken mine honour's urn, Thou stone of offence wheresoever I turn, I should smite--for thy falsehood has ruined my rest-- With the stone thou art made of, the heart in my breast. The way of misfortune too surely I trod When I bowed down before thee and made thee my god; When I looked up to thee with wet eyes in my woe, I renounced all the bliss which both worlds can bestow. From thy stony dominion my soul will I free, And thus shatter the gem of thy power and thee." BREAKING THE IDOL With a hard flint stone, like the Friend,[2] as she spoke, In a thousand pieces the image she broke. Riven and shattered the idol fell, And with her from that moment shall all be well. She made her ablution, 'mid penitent sighs, With the blood of her heart and the tears of her eyes. She bent down her head to the dust; with a moan She made supplication to God's pure throne:-- "O God, who lovest the humble, Thou To whom idols, their makers, their servants bow; 'Tis to the light which Thy splendour lends To the idol's face that its worshipper bends. Thy love the heart of the sculptor stirs, And the idol is graven for worshippers. They bow them down to the image, and think That they worship Thee as before it they sink. To myself, O Lord, I have done this wrong, If mine eyes to an idol have turned so long. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Thou hast washed the dark stain of my sin away; Now restore the lost blessing for which I pray. May I feel my heart free from the brand of its woes, And cull from the garden of Yúsuf a rose." YÚSUF AND ZULAIKHA MEET AGAIN "Where is thy youth, and thy beauty, and pride?" "Gone, since I parted from thee!" she replied. "Where is the light of thine eye?" said he, "Drowned in blood-tears for the loss of thee." "Why is that cypress tree bowed and bent?" "By absence from thee and my long lament." "Where is thy pearl, and thy silver and gold, And the diadem bright on thy head of old?" "She who spoke of my loved one," she answered, "shed, In the praise of thy beauty, rare pearls on my head. In return for those jewels, a recompense meet, I scattered my jewels and gold at her feet. A crown of pure gold on her forehead I set, And the dust that she trod was my coronet. The stream of my treasure of gold ran dry; My heart is Love's storehouse, and I am I." ZULAIKHA'S YOUTH RETURNS The beauty returned which was ruined and dead, And her cheek gained the splendour which long I had fled. Again shone the waters which sad years had dried, And the rose-bed of youth bloomed again in its pride. The musk was restored and the camphor withdrawn, And the black night followed the grey of the dawn, The cypress rose stately and tall as of old: The pure silver was free from all wrinkle and fold. From each musky tress fled the traces of white: To the black narcissus came beauty and light. ZULAIKHA'S WISH "The one sole wish of my heart," she replied, "Is still to be near thee, to sit by thy side; To have thee by day in my happy sight, And to lay my cheek on thy foot at night; To lie in the shade of the cypress and sip The sugar that lies on thy ruby lip; To my wounded heart this soft balm to lay; For naught beyond this can I wish or pray. The streams of thy love will new life bestow On the dry thirsty field where its sweet waters flow." UNITED Thus spoke the Angel: "To thee, O King, From the Lord Almighty a message I bring: 'Mine eyes have seen her in humble mood; I heard her prayer when to thee she sued. At the sight of her labours, her prayers, and sighs, The waves of the sea of my pity rise. Her soul from the sword of despair I free, And here from My throne I betroth her to thee.'" [Footnote 1: A well in Paradise.] [Footnote 2: Abraham.] SELECTIONS FROM THE "BAHÁRISTÁN" ("ABODE OF SPRING") Take a walk in this Baháristán [Abode of Spring] That you may see therein Gulistán [rose-groves] With gracefulness in each Gulistán, Flowers growing and aromatic plants blooming. BAHÁRISTÁN. TO THE READER OF THE "BAHÁRISTÁN" Let every fortunate man who of these blooming trees The shade enjoys, or the fruit consumes, Act according to the laws of righteousness, Walk on the road of generosity and pray thus: May _Jámí_, who planted this garden, O Lord, Be always full of God and empty of self.[1] May he travel on no other path but His, and seek no other _Union_[2] but His; Nor utter another name but His, nor see another face but His. SONG IN PRAISE OF THE BELOVED To the Maker!--the rose-grove of the sphere Is but one leaf of the flower-garden of. His creation-- That those who sing His praises May have a plate of pearls and jewels full of oblations! May the magnitude of His glory shine, and the world of His perfection be exalted! A thousand chants of salutation and greeting from the philomels of the garden-mansion of _Union_ and benevolence, who are the musicians of the assembly of witnesses and songsters in the delightful house of _Ecstasy_[3] and benevolence. FIRST GARDEN "FOR THEE" For Thee we have hastened across land and sea, Have passed over plains, and mountains climbed, Have turned away from whatever we met Until we found the way to the sanctuary of Union with Thee. PRIDE Boast not of having no pride, because it is more invisible Than the mark of an ant's foot on a black rock in a dark night; Think it not easy to extirpate it from thy heart, For it is more easy to root up a mountain from the earth with a needle. "I CANNOT BE FAR FROM THY DOOR" Beloved! I cannot be far from Thy door, Cannot be satisfied with Paradise and with houris. My head is on Thy threshold by Love's command, not for wages. Whatever I may do, I cannot bear to be away from this door. FRIENDSHIP He is a friend, who although meeting with enmity From his friend, only becomes more attached to him. If he strikes him with a thousand stones of violence, The edifice of his love will only be made more firm by them. SECOND GARDEN "A SECRET" O boy! A secret necessary to be concealed from a foe Thou wilt do well not to reveal it even to a friend. I have seen many who in course of capricious time Became foes from friends, and amity to enmity turned. "THE INDISPENSABLE KNOWLEDGE" Cultivate the knowledge which is indispensable to you, And seek not that which you can dispense with. From the moment you acquire the indispensable knowledge, You must not desire to act except in accordance therewith. SILENCE No one repented for keeping a secret under seal, But many for having revealed it. Remain silent, because to sit quietly with a collected mind Is better than speaking what will distract it. OCCUPATION ENNOBLED BY A GREAT MAN Alexander degraded one of his officials by removing him from a high and employing him in a low post. One day this man waited upon Alexander, who asked him what he thought of his occupation, and he replied: "May the life of my Lord be long! A man is not ennobled by a great occupation, but an occupation is ennobled by a great man. In every post honesty, justice and equity are needed." Alexander was pleased with this opinion, and re-installed him in his former office. THIRD GARDEN WISE MAXIMS Every [wise], maxim by the mouth and teeth is a jewel: Happy is he who has made of his breast a casket of jewels; A sage is a treasury of the jewels of philosophy, Do not separate thyself from this treasure. THE DOWNFALL OF THE MIGHTY The favourites of Sultáns are like people climbing up a precipitous mountain, and falling off from it in consequence of the quakes of anger and the vicissitudes of time. There is no doubt that the fall of those who are higher up is more disastrous than the coming down of those who are in lower positions. JUSTICE AND VIRTUE A culprit having been brought before the Khalifa, he ordered the punishment due to the transgression to be administered. The prisoner said: "O Commander of the Faithful, to take vengeance for a crime is justice, but to pass it over is virtue; and the magnanimity of the Prince of the Faithful is more exalted, than that he should disregard what is higher, and descend to what is lower." The Khalifa, being pleased with his argument, condoned his transgression. THE WOMAN WHO WAS ASHAMED TO LOOK AT A MAN WHOM GOD HAD FORSAKEN A woman who belonged to the faction which had risen in arms against Hajaj, having been brought before him, he spoke to her, but she looked down, and fixing her eyes upon the ground, neither replied, nor glanced at him. One who was present said: "O woman, the Amir is speaking, and thou lookest away?" She replied: "I am ashamed before God the Most High, to look on a man, upon whom God the Most High does not look." HOW ALEXANDER ACQUIRED HIS POWER Alexander having been asked by what means he had attained such dominion, power, and glory at so youthful an age and during so short a reign, replied: "By conciliating foes till they turned away from the path of enmity, and by strengthening the alliances with friends till they became firm in the bonds of amity." FOURTH GARDEN "THE VALUE OF A MAN" The price of a man consists not in silver and gold; The value of a man is his power and virtue. Many a slave has by acquiring virtue Attained much greater power than a gentleman, And many a gentleman has for want of virtue Become _inferior_[4] to his own slave. LIBERALITY It is on record that 'Abdullah Ibn Ja'far (may Allah be pleased with him!) intended one day to travel, and approaching a date-grove where he had seen some persons, he alighted. The guardian of the trees happened to be a black slave, to whom two loaves of bread had just been sent from the house; and as a dog stood near him, he threw one of the loaves to it, which having been devoured by the animal, he gave away also the other, and the dog likewise consumed it. Then 'Abdullah (may Allah be pleased with him!) asked what his daily allowance was. The slave replied: "What thou hast seen." "Then why hast thou not kept it for thyself?" "The dog is a stranger here; I thought he had come from a long distance and was hungry, wherefore I did not mean to leave him in that condition." "Then what wilt thou eat to-day?" "I shall fast." Then 'Abdullah said to himself: "Everybody is blaming me for my liberality, and this slave is more liberal than myself." Then he purchased both the slave and the date-grove, presenting him with the latter, and emancipating him. "LEARN THOU BRAVERY!" O brave man, learn thou bravery! From men of the world learn manliness. Preserve thy heart from the remorse of remorse-seekers; Preserve thy tongue from the blame of evil-speakers. Requite with good him who did thee evil, Because by that evil he injured his own prosperity. If thou makest beneficence thy rule The good thou doest will return only to thee. SELF-SACRIFICE One night a great mosque in Egypt, having caught fire, was burnt. The Musulmans suspected that Christians had committed the act, and in revenge put fire to their houses, which consumed them. The Sultán of Egypt had the persons captured who burnt these houses, and having assembled them in one spot, ordered notes to be distributed among them, on some of which a sentence of death to the bearer was written, on some to cut off his hands, and on some to whip him. These notes having been thrown to the culprits and been picked up by them, each of them underwent the punishment which had fallen to his lot. One, to whom the sentence of death had been awarded, said: "I do not fear to be killed, but I have a mother, of whom no one will take care except myself." Near him stood a man who was to be punished by whippings but they exchanged their notes, the latter saying: "I have no mother, let me be killed instead of him, and him be whipped instead of me," and this was done. GALLANTRY AND HUMOUR An Arab of the desert welcomed the arrival of an Arab chief in a Qasída recited by him, which terminated in the following [Arabic] distich: Stretch out thy hand to me, the palm whereof Distributes largesses, and its back is kissed. Accordingly the generous man held out his hand to be kissed by the Arab, whereon he said by way of a joke: "The hairs upon thy lips have scratched my hand." The Arab replied: "What injury can the bristles of a porcupine inflict upon the paw of a formidable lion?" This sally pleased the liberal man, who said: "I like this better than the Qasída," and ordered him to be rewarded for it with 1,000 and for the sally 3,000 _dirhams_. FIFTH GARDEN A LOVERS' DIALOGUE _Maiden:_ By God, who openly and secretly Is worshipped by men and fairies, I swear that of all whom I see in the world No one is dearer to me than thou. _Youth:_ O thou who sawest me, and residest in my heart, Soul and body, all now belong to thee. If my heart inclines to thee it is no wonder; It must be a stone, not a heart, which turns not to thee! 'The girl said that now her only wish in the world was that they should put their hands round each other's waists, and eat sugar from the lips of each other. The youth replied: "My desire is the same, but what can I do? As God the Most High says: 'The intimate friends on that day shall be enemies unto one another, except the pious,' which means that on the day of resurrection friendship of friends will become enmity, except the friendship of the abstemious, which will increase the attachment. I do not wish that on the morn of resurrection the edifice of our love be impaired, and our friendship be turned into enmity." After saying these words, he departed, reciting the following: O heart, abandon this love of two days, Because a love of two days profits not; Choose a love wherewith on the day of reckoning Thou mayest abide in the eternal abode. A KIND FRIEND O heart, when a time of sorrow overtakes thee There will be no sorrow if thou hast a kind friend; For a day of trouble a friend is required, Because in times of comfort, friends are not scarce. A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN A beautiful woman had many admirers, whose attentions were so assiduous that the very street in which she lived became thronged by her visitors, but when her attractions disappeared and she had become ugly, her lovers abandoned her. Then I said to one of them: "She is the same friend as before, with the same eyes, brows, lips, but perhaps her stature is more tall and her body more stout. It is faithless and treacherous on thy part to neglect her." He replied: "Alas for what thou sayest! That which ravished the heart, and enthralled the senses, was the spirit which resided in her form, in the gracefulness of her limbs, the smoothness of her skin, and in the pleasantness of her voice, but as that spirit has departed from the figure, how can I love a dead body, or fondle a withered rose?" SIXTH GARDEN JOCULARITY If a contented man jokes, blame him not, It is a trade licit by the laws of reason and religion; The heart is a mirror, and vexation the rust on it: That rust is best polished away by jocularity. A WEAVER AND A LEARNED PROFESSOR A weaver, who had left something in trust with a learned man, desired again to have it back some time afterwards, and going to ask for it, he saw the man sitting in front of his house on the professional couch, with a number of his disciples in front of him. He said: "Mullana, I am in need of my deposit." He replied: "Wait an hour till I finish my lecture." The weaver accordingly took a seat, and, as the lecture proceeded, he observed that the Mullana often shook his head; and thinking that the imparting of the lesson consisted in this, he said: "O professor, arise and let me take thy place till thy return, and wag my head till thou hast brought out my deposit, because I am in haste." A WORD TO THE WISE If the gentleman fails to use the hair clipper Daily upon the hirsute countenance, But few days will elapse when his face Will, on account of the hair, pretend to be his head. THE EXPLICIT BEGGAR A mendicant begged at the door of a house, whereon the landlord apologised, saying that the people had gone out, and the beggar rejoined: "I want a morsel of bread, and net the people of the house." PHANTOM RELATIONS A man was visited by a stranger who began complaining, and said: "Is it possible that thou knowest me not, and dost not consider my claims upon thee?" The man was amazed, and replied: "I know nothing of what thou sayest." He continued: "My father desired to wed thy mother, and if he had married her we would be brothers." The man rejoined: "By Allah! This relationship will be the occasion for my becoming thy heir, and thou mine!" AN OLD HAG WHO DESIRED ONLY PLEASURE A man said his prayers and then began his supplications, desiring to enter Paradise and to be delivered from the fire of Hell. An old woman, who happened to be in his rear, and heard him, said: "O Lord, cause me to share in whatever he supplicates for." The man, who had listened, then said: "O Lord, hang me on a gibbet, and cause me to die of scourging." The hag continued: "O Lord, pardon me and preserve me from what he asked for." The man then turned to her and said: "What a wonderfully-unpleasant partner this is! She desires to share with me in all that gives rest and pleasure, but refuses to be my partner in distress and misery." PLAGIARISM A poet brought to a critic a composition, every distich of which he had plagiarised from a different collection of poems, and every rhetorical figure from another author. The critic said: "For a wonder thou hast brought a line of camels, but if the string were untied, every one of the herd would rush away in another direction." THE AFFLICTED POET A poet paid a visit to a doctor, and said: "Something has become knotted in my heart which makes me uncomfortable; it makes also my limbs wither, and causes the hairs on my body to stand on end." The physician, who was a shrewd man, asked: "Very likely thou has not yet recited to any one thy latest verses." The poet replied: "Just so." The doctor continued: "Then recite them." He complied, was requested to repeat them, and again to rehearse them for the third time. After he had done so, the doctor said: "Now arise, for thou art saved. This poetry had become knotted in thy heart, and the dryness of it took effect upon the outside; but, as thou hast relieved thy heart, thou art cured." [Footnote 1: There is a clever play on the author's name, which also means a _goblet_.] [Footnote 2: The seventh degree of the Súfís.] [Footnote 3: The fifth degree of the Súfís.] [Footnote 4: In the Persian, _without a shield_.] 
6519	----	SONGS OF KABÎR Translated by Rabindranath Tagore Introduction by Evelyn Underhill New York, The Macmillan Company 1915 INTRODUCTION The poet Kabîr, a selection from whose songs is here for the first time offered to English readers, is one of the most interesting personalities in the history of Indian mysticism. Born in or near Benares, of Mohammedan parents, and probably about the year 1440, he became in early life a disciple of the celebrated Hindu ascetic Râmânanda. Râmânanda had brought to Northern India the religious revival which Râmânuja, the great twelfth-century reformer of Brâhmanism, had initiated in the South. This revival was in part a reaction against the increasing formalism of the orthodox cult, in part an assertion of the demands of the heart as against the intense intellectualism of the Vedânta philosophy, the exaggerated monism which that philosophy proclaimed. It took in Râmânuja's preaching the form of an ardent personal devotion to the God Vishnu, as representing the personal aspect of the Divine Nature: that mystical "religion of love" which everywhere makes its appearance at a certain level of spiritual culture, and which creeds and philosophies are powerless to kill. Though such a devotion is indigenous in Hinduism, and finds expression in many passages of the Bhagavad Gîtâ, there was in its mediæval revival a large element of syncretism. Râmânanda, through whom its spirit is said to have reached Kabîr, appears to have been a man of wide religious culture, and full of missionary enthusiasm. Living at the moment in which the impassioned poetry and deep philosophy of the great Persian mystics, Attâr, Sâdî, Jalâlu'ddîn Rûmî, and Hâfiz, were exercising a powerful influence on the religious thought of India, he dreamed of reconciling this intense and personal Mohammedan mysticism with the traditional theology of Brâhmanism. Some have regarded both these great religious leaders as influenced also by Christian thought and life: but as this is a point upon which competent authorities hold widely divergent views, its discussion is not attempted here. We may safely assert, however, that in their teachings, two--perhaps three--apparently antagonistic streams of intense spiritual culture met, as Jewish and Hellenistic thought met in the early Christian Church: and it is one of the outstanding characteristics of Kabîr's genius that he was able in his poems to fuse them into one. A great religious reformer, the founder of a sect to which nearly a million northern Hindus still belong, it is yet supremely as a mystical poet that Kabîr lives for us. His fate has been that of many revealers of Reality. A hater of religious exclusivism, and seeking above all things to initiate men into the liberty of the children of God, his followers have honoured his memory by re-erecting in a new place the barriers which he laboured to cast down. But his wonderful songs survive, the spontaneous expressions of his vision and his love; and it is by these, not by the didactic teachings associated with his name, that he makes his immortal appeal to the heart. In these poems a wide range of mystical emotion is brought into play: from the loftiest abstractions, the most otherworldly passion for the Infinite, to the most intimate and personal realization of God, expressed in homely metaphors and religious symbols drawn indifferently from Hindu and Mohammedan belief. It is impossible to say of their author that he was Brâhman or Sûfî, Vedântist or Vaishnavite. He is, as he says himself, "at once the child of Allah and of Râm." That Supreme Spirit Whom he knew and adored, and to Whose joyous friendship he sought to induct the souls of other men, transcended whilst He included all metaphysical categories, all credal definitions; yet each contributed something to the description of that Infinite and Simple Totality Who revealed Himself, according to their measure, to the faithful lovers of all creeds. Kabîr's story is surrounded by contradictory legends, on none of which reliance can be placed. Some of these emanate from a Hindu, some from a Mohammedan source, and claim him by turns as a Sûfî and a Brâhman saint. His name, however, is practically a conclusive proof of Moslem ancestry: and the most probable tale is that which represents him as the actual or adopted child of a Mohammedan weaver of Benares, the city in which the chief events of his life took place. In fifteenth-century Benares the syncretistic tendencies of Bhakti religion had reached full development. Sûfîs and Brâhmans appear to have met in disputation: the most spiritual members of both creeds frequenting the teachings of Râmânanda, whose reputation was then at its height. The boy Kabîr, in whom the religious passion was innate, saw in Râmânanda his destined teacher; but knew how slight were the chances that a Hindu guru would accept a Mohammedan as disciple. He therefore hid upon the steps of the river Ganges, where Râmânanda was accustomed to bathe; with the result that the master, coming down to the water, trod upon his body unexpectedly, and exclaimed in his astonishment, "Ram! Ram!"--the name of the incarnation under which he worshipped God. Kabîr then declared that he had received the mantra of initiation from Râmânanda's lips, and was by it admitted to discipleship. In spite of the protests of orthodox Brâhmans and Mohammedans, both equally annoyed by this contempt of theological landmarks, he persisted in his claim; thus exhibiting in action that very principle of religious synthesis which Râmânanda had sought to establish in thought. Râmânanda appears to have accepted him, and though Mohammedan legends speak of the famous Sûfî Pîr, Takkî of Jhansî, as Kabîr's master in later life, the Hindu saint is the only human teacher to whom in his songs he acknowledges indebtedness. The little that we know of Kabîr's life contradicts many current ideas concerning the Oriental mystic. Of the stages of discipline through which he passed, the manner in which his spiritual genius developed, we are completely ignorant. He seems to have remained for years the disciple of Râmânanda, joining in the theological and philosophical arguments which his master held with all the great Mullahs and Brâhmans of his day; and to this source we may perhaps trace his acquaintance with the terms of Hindu and Sûfî philosophy. He may or may not have submitted to the traditional education of the Hindu or the Sûfî contemplative: it is clear, at any rate, that he never adopted the life of the professional ascetic, or retired from the world in order to devote himself to bodily mortifications and the exclusive pursuit of the contemplative life. Side by side with his interior life of adoration, its artistic expression in music and words--for he was a skilled musician as well as a poet--he lived the sane and diligent life of the Oriental craftsman. All the legends agree on this point: that Kabîr was a weaver, a simple and unlettered man, who earned his living at the loom. Like Paul the tentmaker, Boehme the cobbler, Bunyan the tinker, Tersteegen the ribbon-maker, he knew how to combine vision and industry; the work of his hands helped rather than hindered the impassioned meditation of his heart. Hating mere bodily austerities, he was no ascetic, but a married man, the father of a family--a circumstance which Hindu legends of the monastic type vainly attempt to conceal or explain--and it was from out of the heart of the common life that he sang his rapturous lyrics of divine love. Here his works corroborate the traditional story of his life. Again and again he extols the life of home, the value and reality of diurnal existence, with its opportunities for love and renunciation; pouring contempt--upon the professional sanctity of the Yogi, who "has a great beard and matted locks, and looks like a goat," and on all who think it necessary to flee a world pervaded by love, joy, and beauty--the proper theatre of man's quest--in order to find that One Reality Who has "spread His form of love throughout all the world." [Footnote: Cf. Poems Nos. XXI, XL, XLIII, LXVI, LXXVI.] It does not need much experience of ascetic literature to recognize the boldness and originality of this attitude in such a time and place. From the point of view of orthodox sanctity, whether Hindu or Mohammedan, Kabîr was plainly a heretic; and his frank dislike of all institutional religion, all external observance--which was as thorough and as intense as that of the Quakers themselves--completed, so far as ecclesiastical opinion was concerned, his reputation as a dangerous man. The "simple union" with Divine Reality which he perpetually extolled, as alike the duty and the joy of every soul, was independent both of ritual and of bodily austerities; the God whom he proclaimed was "neither in Kaaba nor in Kailâsh." Those who sought Him needed not to go far; for He awaited discovery everywhere, more accessible to "the washerwoman and the carpenter" than to the self--righteous holy man. [Footnote: Poems I, II, XLI.] Therefore the whole apparatus of piety, Hindu and Moslem alike--the temple and mosque, idol and holy water, scriptures and priests--were denounced by this inconveniently clear-sighted poet as mere substitutes for reality; dead things intervening between the soul and its love-- /* The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak: I know, for I have cried aloud to them. The Purâna and the Koran are mere words: lifting up the curtain, I have seen. */ [Footnote: Poems XLII, LXV, LXVII.] This sort of thing cannot be tolerated by any organized church; and it is not surprising that Kabîr, having his head-quarters in Benares, the very centre of priestly influence, was subjected to considerable persecution. The well-known legend of the beautiful courtesan sent by Brâhmans to tempt his virtue, and converted, like the Magdalen, by her sudden encounter with the initiate of a higher love, pre serves the memory of the fear and dislike with which he was regarded by the ecclesiastical powers. Once at least, after the performance of a supposed miracle of healing, he was brought before the Emperor Sikandar Lodi, and charged with claiming the possession of divine powers. But Sikandar Lodi, a ruler of considerable culture, was tolerant of the eccentricities of saintly persons belonging to his own faith. Kabîr, being of Mohammedan birth, was outside the authority of the Brâhmans, and technically classed with the Sûfîs, to whom great theological latitude was allowed. Therefore, though he was banished in the interests of peace from Benares, his life was spared. This seems to have happened in 1495, when he was nearly sixty years of age; it is the last event in his career of which we have definite knowledge. Thenceforth he appears to have moved about amongst various cities of northern India, the centre of a group of disciples; continuing in exile that life of apostle and poet of love to which, as he declares in one of his songs, he was destined "from the beginning of time." In 1518, an old man, broken in health, and with hands so feeble that he could no longer make the music which he loved, he died at Maghar near Gorakhpur. A beautiful legend tells us that after his death his Mohammedan and Hindu disciples disputed the possession of his body; which the Mohammedans wished to bury, the Hindus to burn. As they argued together, Kabîr appeared before them, and told them to lift the shroud and look at that which lay beneath. They did so, and found in the place of the corpse a heap of flowers; half of which were buried by the Mohammedans at Maghar, and half carried by the Hindus to the holy city of Benares to be burned--fitting conclusion to a life which had made fragrant the most beautiful doctrines of two great creeds. II The poetry of mysticism might be defined on the one hand as a temperamental reaction to the vision of Reality: on the other, as a form of prophecy. As it is the special vocation of the mystical consciousness to mediate between two orders, going out in loving adoration towards God and coming home to tell the secrets of Eternity to other men; so the artistic self-expression of this consciousness has also a double character. It is love-poetry, but love-poetry which is often written with a missionary intention. Kabîr's songs are of this kind: out-births at once of rapture and of charity. Written in the popular Hindi, not in the literary tongue, they were deliberately addressed--like the vernacular poetry of Jacopone da Todì and Richard Rolle--to the people rather than to the professionally religious class; and all must be struck by the constant employment in them of imagery drawn from the common life, the universal experience. It is by the simplest metaphors, by constant appeals to needs, passions, relations which all men understand--the bridegroom and bride, the guru and disciple, the pilgrim, the farmer, the migrant bird-- that he drives home his intense conviction of the reality of the soul's intercourse with the Transcendent. There are in his universe no fences between the "natural" and "supernatural" worlds; everything is a part of the creative Play of God, and therefore--even in its humblest details--capable of revealing the Player's mind. This willing acceptance of the here-and-now as a means of representing supernal realities is a trait common to the greatest mystics. For them, when they have achieved at last the true theopathetic state, all aspects of the universe possess equal authority as sacramental declarations of the Presence of God; and their fearless employment of homely and physical symbols--often startling and even revolting to the unaccustomed taste--is in direct proportion to the exaltation of their spiritual life. The works of the great Sûfîs, and amongst the Christians of Jacopone da Todì, Ruysbroeck, Boehme, abound in illustrations of this law. Therefore we must not be surprised to find in Kabîr's songs--his desperate attempts to communicate his ecstasy and persuade other men to share it--a constant juxtaposition of concrete and metaphysical language; swift alternations between the most intensely anthropomorphic, the most subtly philosophical, ways of apprehending man's communion with the Divine. The need for this alternation, and its entire naturalness for the mind which employs it, is rooted in his concept, or vision, of the Nature of God; and unless we make some attempt to grasp this, we shall not go far in our understanding of his poems. Kabîr belongs to that small group of supreme mystics--amongst whom St. Augustine, Ruysbroeck, and the Sûfî poet Jalâlu'ddîn Rûmî are perhaps the chief--who have achieved that which we might call the synthetic vision of God. These have resolved the perpetual opposition between the personal and impersonal, the transcendent and immanent, static and dynamic aspects of the Divine Nature; between the Absolute of philosophy and the "sure true Friend" of devotional religion. They have done this, not by taking these apparently incompatible concepts one after the other; but by ascending to a height of spiritual intuition at which they are, as Ruysbroeck said, "melted and merged in the Unity," and perceived as the completing opposites of a perfect Whole. This proceeding entails for them--and both Kabîr and Ruysbroeck expressly acknowledge it--a universe of three orders: Becoming, Being, and that which is "More than Being," i.e., God. [Footnote: Nos. VII and XLIX.] God is here felt to be not the final abstraction, but the one actuality. He inspires, supports, indeed inhabits, both the durational, conditioned, finite world of Becoming and the unconditioned, non-successional, infinite world of Being; yet utterly transcends them both. He is the omnipresent Reality, the "All-pervading" within Whom "the worlds are being told like beads." In His personal aspect He is the "beloved Fakir," teaching and companioning each soul. Considered as Immanent Spirit, He is "the Mind within the mind." But all these are at best partial aspects of His nature, mutually corrective: as the Persons in the Christian doctrine of the Trinity--to which this theological diagram bears a striking resemblance--represent different and compensating experiences of the Divine Unity within which they are resumed. As Ruysbroeck discerned a plane of reality upon which "we can speak no more of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but only of One Being, the very substance of the Divine Persons"; so Kabîr says that "beyond both the limited and the limitless is He, the Pure Being." [Footnote: No. VII.] Brahma, then, is the Ineffable Fact compared with which "the distinction of the Conditioned from the Unconditioned is but a word": at once the utterly transcendent One of Absolutist philosophy, and the personal Lover of the individual soul--"common to all and special to each," as one Christian mystic has it. The need felt by Kabîr for both these ways of describing Reality is a proof of the richness and balance of his spiritual experience; which neither cosmic nor anthropomorphic symbols, taken alone, could express. More absolute than the Absolute, more personal than the human mind, Brahma therefore exceeds whilst He includes all the concepts of philosophy, all the passionate intuitions of the heart. He is the Great Affirmation, the font of energy, the source of life and love, the unique satisfaction of desire. His creative word is the _Om_ or "Everlasting Yea." The negative philosophy which strips from the Divine Nature all Its attributes and defining Him only by that which He is not--reduces Him to an "Emptiness," is abhorrent to this most vital of poets.--Brahma, he says, "may never be found in abstractions." He is the One Love who Pervades the world., discerned in His fullness only by the eyes of love; and those who know Him thus share, though they may never tell, the joyous and ineffable secret of the universe. [Footnote: Nos. VII, XXVI, LXXVI, XC.] Now Kabîr, achieving this synthesis between the personal and cosmic aspects of the Divine Nature, eludes the three great dangers which threaten mystical religion. First, he escapes the excessive emotionalism, the tendency to an exclusively anthropomorphic devotion, which results from an unrestricted cult of Divine Personality, especially under an incarnational form; seen in India in the exaggerations of Krishna worship, in Europe in the sentimental extravagances of certain Christian saints. Next, he is protected from the soul-destroying conclusions of pure monism, inevitable if its logical implications are pressed home: that is, the identity of substance between God and the soul, with its corollary of the total absorption of that soul in the Being of God as the goal of the spiritual life. For the thorough-going monist the soul, in so far as it is real, is substantially identical with God; and the true object of existence is the making patent of this latent identity, the realization which finds expression in the Vedântist formula "That art thou." But Kabîr says that Brahma and the creature are "ever distinct, yet ever united"; that the wise man knows the spiritual as well as the material world to "be no more than His footstool." [Footnote: Nos. VII and IX.] The soul's union with Him is a love union, a mutual inhabitation; that essentially dualistic relation which all mystical religion expresses, not a self-mergence which leaves no place for personality. This eternal distinction, the mysterious union-in-separateness of God and the soul, is a necessary doctrine of all sane mysticism; for no scheme which fails to find a place for it can represent more than a fragment of that soul's intercourse with the spiritual world. Its affirmation was one of the distinguishing features of the Vaishnavite reformation preached by Râmânuja; the principle of which had descended through Râmânanda to Kabîr. Last, the warmly human and direct apprehension of God as the supreme Object of love, the soul's comrade, teacher, and bridegroom, which is so passionately and frequently expressed in Kabîr's poems, balances and controls those abstract tendencies which are inherent in the metaphysical side of his vision of Reality: and prevents it from degenerating into that sterile worship of intellectual formulæ which became the curse of the Vedântist school. For the mere intellectualist, as for the mere pietist, he has little approbation. [Footnote: Cf. especially Nos. LIX, LXVII, LXXV, XC, XCI.] Love is throughout his "absolute sole Lord": the unique source of the more abundant life which he enjoys, and the common factor which unites the finite and infinite worlds. All is soaked in love: that love which he described in almost Johannine language as the "Form of God." The whole of creation is the Play of the Eternal Lover; the living, changing, growing expression of Brahma's love and joy. As these twin passions preside over the generation of human life, so "beyond the mists of pleasure and pain" Kabîr finds them governing the creative acts of God. His manifestation is love; His activity is joy. Creation springs from one glad act of affirmation: the Everlasting Yea, perpetually uttered within the depths of the Divine Nature. [Footnote: Nos. XVII, XXVI, LXXVI, LXXXII.] In accordance with this concept of the universe as a Love-Game which eternally goes forward, a progressive manifestation of Brahma--one of the many notions which he adopted from the common stock of Hindu religious ideas, and illuminated by his poetic genius--movement, rhythm, perpetual change, forms an integral part of Kabîr's vision of Reality. Though the Eternal and Absolute is ever present to his consciousness, yet his concept of the Divine Nature is essentially dynamic. It is by the symbols of motion that he most often tries to convey it to us: as in his constant reference to dancing, or the strangely modern picture of that Eternal Swing of the Universe which is "held by the cords of love." [Footnote: No. XVI.] It is a marked characteristic of mystical literature that the great contemplatives, in their effort to convey to us the nature of their communion with the supersensuous, are inevitably driven to employ some form of sensuous imagery: coarse and inaccurate as they know such imagery to be, even at the best. Our normal human consciousness is so completely committed to dependence on the senses, that the fruits of intuition itself are instinctively referred to them. In that intuition it seems to the mystics that all the dim cravings and partial apprehensions of sense find perfect fulfilment. Hence their constant declaration that they _see_ the uncreated light, they _hear_ the celestial melody, they _taste_ the sweetness of the Lord, they know an ineffable fragrance, they feel the very contact of love. "Him verily seeing and fully feeling, Him spiritually hearing and Him delectably smelling and sweetly swallowing," as Julian of Norwich has it. In those amongst them who develop psycho-sensorial automatisms, these parallels between sense and spirit may present themselves to consciousness in the form of hallucinations: as the light seen by Suso, the music heard by Rolle, the celestial perfumes which filled St. Catherine of Siena's cell, the physical wounds felt by St. Francis and St. Teresa. These are excessive dramatizations of the symbolism under which the mystic tends instinctively to represent his spiritual intuition to the surface consciousness. Here, in the special sense-perception which he feels to be most expressive of Reality, his peculiar idiosyncrasies come out. Now Kabîr, as we might expect in one whose reactions to the spiritual order were so wide and various, uses by turn all the symbols of sense. He tells us that he has "seen without sight" the effulgence of Brahma, tasted the divine nectar, felt the ecstatic contact of Reality, smelt the fragrance of the heavenly flowers. But he was essentially a poet and musician: rhythm and harmony were to him the garments of beauty and truth. Hence in his lyrics he shows himself to be, like Richard Rolle, above all things a musical mystic. Creation, he says again and again, is full of music: it _is_ music. At the heart of the Universe "white music is blossoming": love weaves the melody, whilst renunciation beats the time. It can be heard in the home as well as in the heavens; discerned by the ears of common men as well as by the trained senses of the ascetic. Moreover, the body of every man is a lyre on which Brahma, "the source of all music," plays. Everywhere Kabîr discerns the "Unstruck Music of the Infinite"--that celestial melody which the angel played to St. Francis, that ghostly symphony which filled the soul of Rolle with ecstatic joy. [Footnote: Nos. XVII, XVIII, XXXIX, XLI, LIV, LXXVI, LXXXIII, LXXXIX, XCVII.] The one figure which he adopts from the Hindu Pantheon and constantly uses, is that of Krishna the Divine Flute Player. [Footnote: Nos. L, LIII, LXVIII.] He sees the supernal music, too, in its visual embodiment, as rhythmical movement: that mysterious dance of the universe before the face of Brahma, which is at once an act of worship and an expression of the infinite rapture of the Immanent God.' Yet in this wide and rapturous vision of the universe Kabîr never loses touch with diurnal existence, never forgets the common life. His feet are firmly planted upon earth; his lofty and passionate apprehensions are perpetually controlled by the activity of a sane and vigorous intellect, by the alert commonsense so often found in persons of real mystical genius. The constant insistence on simplicity and directness, the hatred of all abstractions and philosophizings,[Footnote: Nos. XXVI, XXXII, LXXVI] the ruthless criticism of external religion: these are amongst his most marked characteristics. God is the Root whence all manifestations, "material" and "spiritual," alike proceed; [Footnote: Nos. LXXV, LXXVIII, LXXX, XC.] and God is the only need of man--"happiness shall be yours when you come to the Root." [Footnote: No. LXXX.] Hence to those who keep their eye on the "one thing needful," denominations, creeds, ceremonies, the conclusions of philosophy, the disciplines of asceticism, are matters of comparative indifference. They represent merely the different angles from which the soul may approach that simple union with Brahma which is its goal; and are useful only in so faras they contribute to this consummation. So thorough-going is Kabîr's eclecticism, that he seems by turns Vedântist and Vaishnavite, Pantheist and Transcendentalist, Brâhman and Sûfî. In the effort to tell the truth about that ineffable apprehension, so vast and yet so near, which controls his life, he seizes and twines together--as he might have woven together contrasting threads upon his loom--symbols and ideas drawn from the most violent and conflicting philosophies and faiths. All are needed, if he is ever to suggest the character of that One whom the Upanishad called "the Sun-coloured Being who is beyond this Darkness": as all the colours of the spectrum are needed if we would demonstrate the simple richness of white light. In thus adapting traditional materials to his own use he follows a method common amongst the mystics; who seldom exhibit any special love for originality of form. They will pour their wine into almost any vessel that comes to hand: generally using by preference--and lifting to new levels of beauty and significance--the religious or philosophic formulæ current in their own day. Thus we find that some of Kabîr's finest poems have as their subjects the commonplaces of Hindu philosophy and religion: the Lîlâ or Sport of God, the Ocean of Bliss, the Bird of the Soul, Mâyâ, the Hundred-petalled Lotus, and the "Formless Form." Many, again, are soaked in Sûfî imagery and feeling. Others use as their material the ordinary surroundings and incidents of Indian life: the temple bells, the ceremony of the lamps, marriage, suttee, pilgrimage, the characters of the seasons; all felt by him in their mystical aspect, as sacraments of the soul's relation with Brahma. In many of these a particularly beautiful and intimate feeling for Nature is shown. [Footnote: Nos. XV, XXIII, LXVII, LXXXVII, XCVII.] In the collection of songs here translated there will be found examples which illustrate nearly every aspect of Kabîr's thought, and all the fluctuations of the mystic's emotion: the ecstasy, the despair, the still beatitude, the eager self-devotion, the flashes of wide illumination, the moments of intimate love. His wide and deep vision of the universe, the "Eternal Sport" of creation (LXXXII), the worlds being "told like beads" within the Being of God (XIV, XVI, XVII, LXXVI), is here seen balanced by his lovely and delicate sense of intimate communion with the Divine Friend, Lover, Teacher of the soul (X, XI, XXIII, XXXV, LI, LXXXV, LXXXVI, LXXXVIII, XCII, XCIII; above all, the beautiful poem XXXIV). As these apparently paradoxical views of Reality are resolved in Brâhma, so all other opposites are reconciled in Him: bondage and liberty, love and renunciation, pleasure and pain (XVII, XXV, XL, LXXIX). Union with Him is the one thing that matters to the soul, its destiny and its need (LI, I, II, LIV, LXX, LXXIV, XCIII, XCVI); and this union, this discovery of God, is the simplest and most natural of all things, if we would but grasp it (XLI, XLVI, LVI, LXXII, LXXVI, LXXVIII, XCVII). The union, however, is brought about by love, not by knowledge or ceremonial observances (XXXVIII, LIV, LV, LIX, XCI); and the apprehension which that union confers is ineffable--"neither This nor That," as Ruysbroeck has it (IX, XLVI, LXXVI). Real worship and communion is in Spirit and in Truth (XL, XLI, LVI, LXIII, LXV, LXX), therefore idolatry is an insult to the Divine Lover (XLII, LXIX) and the devices of professional sanctity are useless apart from charity and purity of soul (LIV, LXV, LXVI). Since all things, and especially the heart of man, are God-inhabited, God-possessed (XXVI, LVI, LXXVI, LXXXIX, XCVII), He may best be found in the here-and-now: in the normal. human, bodily existence, the "mud" of material life (III, IV, VI, XXI, XXXIX, XL, XLIII, XLVIII, LXXII). "We can reach the goal without crossing the road" (LXXVI)--not the cloister but the home is the proper theatre of man's efforts: and if he cannot find God there, he need not hope for success by going farther afield. "In the home is reality." There love and detachment, bondage and freedom, joy and pain play by turns upon the soul; and it is from their conflict that the Unstruck Music of the Infinite proceeds. Kabîr says: "None but Brahma can evoke its melodies." "This version of Kabîr's songs is chiefly the work of Mr. Rabîndranâth Tagore, the trend of whose mystical genius makes him--as all who read these poems will see--a peculiarly sympathetic interpreter of Kabîr's vision and thought. It has been based upon the printed Hindî text with Bengali translation of Mr. Kshiti Mohan Sen; who has gathered from many sources--sometimes from books and manuscripts, sometimes from the lips of wandering ascetics and minstrels--a large collection of poems and hymns to which Kabîr's name is attached, and carefully sifted the authentic songs from the many spurious works now attributed to him. These painstaking labours alone have made the present undertaking possible. We have also had before us a manuscript English translation of 116 songs made by Mr. Ajit Kumâr Chakravarty from Mr. Kshiti Mohan Sen's text, and a prose essay upon Kabîr from the same hand. From these we have derived great assistance. A considerable number of readings from the translation have been adopted by us; whilst several of the facts mentioned in the essay have been incorporated into this introduction. Our most grateful thanks are due to Mr. Ajit Kumar Chakravarty for the extremely generous and unselfish manner in which he has placed his work at our disposal. E. U. The reference of the headlines of the poems is to: Sântiniketana; Kabîr by Srî Kshitimohan Sen, 4 parts, Brahmacharyâsrama, Bolpur, 1910-1911. For some assistance in normalizing the transliteration we are indebted to Professor J. F. Blumhardt. KABIR'S POEMS I I. 13. _mo ko kahân dhûnro bande_ O servant, where dost thou seek Me? Lo! I am beside thee. I am neither in temple nor in mosque: I am neither in Kaaba nor in Kailash: Neither am I in rites and ceremonies, nor in Yoga and renunciation. If thou art a true seeker, thou shalt at once see Me: thou shalt meet Me in a moment of time. Kabîr says, "O Sadhu! God is the breath of all breath." II I. 16. _Santan jât na pûcho nirguniyân_ It is needless to ask of a saint the caste to which he belongs; For the priest, the warrior. the tradesman, and all the thirty-six castes, alike are seeking for God. It is but folly to ask what the caste of a saint may be; The barber has sought God, the washerwoman, and the carpenter-- Even Raidas was a seeker after God. The Rishi Swapacha was a tanner by caste. Hindus and Moslems alike have achieved that End, where remains no mark of distinction. III I. 57. _sâdho bhâî, jîval hî karo âs'â_ O friend! hope for Him whilst you live, know whilst you live, understand whilst you live: for in life deliverance abides. If your bonds be not broken whilst living, what hope of deliverance in death? It is but an empty dream, that the soul shall have union with Him because it has passed from the body: If He is found now, He is found then, If not, we do but go to dwell in the City of Death. If you have union now, you shall have it hereafter. Bathe in the truth, know the true Guru, have faith in the true Name! Kabîr says: "It is the Spirit of the quest which helps; I am the slave of this Spirit of the quest." IV I. 58. _bâgo nâ jâ re nâ jâ_ Do not go to the garden of flowers! O Friend! go not there; In your body is the garden of flowers. Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus, and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty. V I. 63. _avadhû, mâyâ tajî na jây_ Tell me, Brother, how can I renounce Maya? When I gave up the tying of ribbons, still I tied my garment about me: When I gave up tying my garment, still I covered my body in its folds. So, when I give up passion, I see that anger remains; And when I renounce anger, greed is with me still; And when greed is vanquished, pride and vainglory remain; When the mind is detached and casts Maya away, still it clings to the letter. Kabîr says, "Listen to me, dear Sadhu! the true path is rarely found." VI I. 83. _candâ jhalkai yahi ghat mâhîn_ The moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it: The moon is within me, and so is the sun. The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it. So long as man clamours for the _I_ and the _Mine_, his works are as naught: When all love of the _I_ and the _Mine_ is dead, then the work of the Lord is done. For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge: When that comes, then work is put away. The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers. The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass. VII I. 85. _Sâdho, Brahm alakh lakhâyâ_ When He Himself reveals Himself, Brahma brings into manifestation That which can never be seen. As the seed is in the plant, as the shade is in the tree, as the void is in the sky, as infinite forms are in the void-- So from beyond the Infinite, the Infinite comes; and from the Infinite the finite extends. The creature is in Brahma, and Brahma is in the creature: they are ever distinct, yet ever united. He Himself is the tree, the seed, and the germ. He Himself is the flower, the fruit, and the shade. He Himself is the sun, the light, and the lighted. He Himself is Brahma, creature, and Maya. He Himself is the manifold form, the infinite space; He is the breath, the word, and the meaning. He Himself is the limit and the limitless: and beyond both the limited and the limitless is He, the Pure Being. He is the Immanent Mind in Brahma and in the creature. The Supreme Soul is seen within the soul, The Point is seen within the Supreme Soul, And within the Point, the reflection is seen again. Kabîr is blest because he has this supreme vision! VIII I. 101. _is ghat antar bâg bagîce_ Within this earthen vessel are bowers and groves, and within it is the Creator: Within this vessel are the seven oceans and the unnumbered stars. The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within; And within this vessel the Eternal soundeth, and the spring wells up. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, my Friend! My beloved Lord is within." IX I. 104. _aisâ lo nahîn taisâ lo_ O How may I ever express that secret word? O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that? If I say that He is within me, the universe is ashamed: If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood. He makes the inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one; The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools. He is neither manifest nor hidden, He is neither revealed nor unrevealed: There are no words to tell that which He is. X I. 121. _tohi mori lagan lagâye re phakîr wâ_ To Thee Thou hast drawn my love, O Fakir! I was sleeping in my own chamber, and Thou didst awaken me; striking me with Thy voice, O Fakir! I was drowning in the deeps of the ocean of this world, and Thou didst save me: upholding me with Thine arm, O Fakir! Only one word and no second--and Thou hast made me tear off all my bonds, O Fakir! Kabîr says, "Thou hast united Thy heart to my heart, O Fakir!" XI I. 131. _nis' din khelat rahî sakhiyân sang_ I played day and night with my comrades, and now I am greatly afraid. So high is my Lord's palace, my heart trembles to mount its stairs: yet I must not be shy, if I would enjoy His love. My heart must cleave to my Lover; I must withdraw my veil, and meet Him with all my body: Mine eyes must perform the ceremony of the lamps of love. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, friend: he understands who loves. If you feel not love's longing for your Beloved One, it is vain to adorn your body, vain to put unguent on your eyelids." XII II. 24. _hamsâ, kaho purâtan vât_ Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale. From what land do you come, O Swan? to what shore will you fly? Where would you take your rest, O Swan, and what do you seek? Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me! There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule: where the terror of Death is no more. There the woods of spring are a-bloom, and the fragrant scent "He is I" is borne on the wind: There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed, and desires no other joy. XIII II. 37. _angadhiyâ devâ_ O Lord Increate, who will serve Thee? Every votary offers his worship to the God of his own creation: each day he receives service-- None seek Him, the Perfect: Brahma, the Indivisible Lord. They believe in ten Avatars; but no Avatar can be the Infinite Spirit, for he suffers the results of his deeds: The Supreme One must be other than this. The Yogi, the Sanyasi, the Ascetics, are disputing one with another: Kabîr says, "O brother! he who has seen that radiance of love, he is saved." XIV II. 56. _dariyâ kî lahar dariyâo hai jî_ The river and its waves are one surf: where is the difference between the river and its waves? When the wave rises, it is the water; and when it falls, it is the same water again. Tell me, Sir, where is the distinction? Because it has been named as wave, shall it no longer be considered as water? Within the Supreme Brahma, the worlds are being told like beads: Look upon that rosary with the eyes of wisdom. XV II. 57. _jânh khelat vasant riturâj_ Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth, there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself, There the streams of light flow in all directions; Few are the men who can cross to that shore! There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded, Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads, Where millions of Brahmâs are reading the Vedas, Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation, Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky, Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered, Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the vina-- There is my Lord self-revealed: and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps. XVI II. 59. _jânh, cet acet khambh dôû_ Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing: Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases its sway. Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon in their courses are there: Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on. All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the water; and the Lord Himself taking form: And the sight of this has made Kabîr a servant. XVII II. 61. _grah candra tapan jot varat hai_ The light of the sun, the moon, and the stars shines bright: The melody of love swells forth, and the rhythm of love's detachment beats the time. Day and night, the chorus of music fills the heavens; and Kabîr says "My Beloved One gleams like the lightning flash in the sky." Do you know how the moments perform their adoration? Waving its row of lamps, the universe sings in worship day and night, There are the hidden banner and the secret canopy: There the sound of the unseen bells is heard. Kabîr says: "There adoration never ceases; there the Lord of the Universe sitteth on His throne." The whole world does its works and commits its errors: but few are the lovers who know the Beloved. The devout seeker is he who mingles in his heart the double currents of love and detachment, like the mingling of the streams of Ganges and Jumna; In his heart the sacred water flows day and night; and thus the round of births and deaths is brought to an end. Behold what wonderful rest is in the Supreme Spirit! and he enjoys it, who makes himself meet for it. Held by the cords of love, the swing of the Ocean of Joy sways to and fro; and a mighty sound breaks forth in song. See what a lotus blooms there without water! and Kabîr says "My heart's bee drinks its nectar." What a wonderful lotus it is, that blooms at the heart of the spinning wheel of the universe! Only a few pure souls know of its true delight. Music is all around it, and there the heart partakes of the joy of the Infinite Sea. Kabîr says: "Dive thou into that Ocean of sweetness: thus let all errors of life and of death flee away." Behold how the thirst of the five senses is quenched there! and the three forms of misery are no more! Kabîr says: "It is the sport of the Unattainable One: look within, and behold how the moon-beams of that Hidden One shine in you." There falls the rhythmic beat of life and death: Rapture wells forth, and all space is radiant with light. There the Unstruck Music is sounded; it is the music of the love of the three worlds. There millions of lamps of sun and of moon are burning; There the drum beats, and the lover swings in play. There love-songs resound, and light rains in showers; and the worshipper is entranced in the taste of the heavenly nectar. Look upon life and death; there is no separation between them, The right hand and the left hand are one and the same. Kabîr says: "There the wise man is speechless; for this truth may never be found in Vadas or in books." I have had my Seat on the Self-poised One, I have drunk of the Cup of the Ineffable, I have found the Key of the Mystery, I have reached the Root of Union. Travelling by no track, I have come to the Sorrowless Land: very easily has the mercy of the great Lord come upon me. They have sung of Him as infinite and unattainable: but I in my meditations have seen Him without sight. That is indeed the sorrowless land, and none know the path that leads there: Only he who is on that path has surely transcended all sorrow. Wonderful is that land of rest, to which no merit can win; It is the wise who has seen it, it is the wise who has sung of it. This is the Ultimate Word: but can any express its marvellous savour? He who has savoured it once, he knows what joy it can give. Kabîr says: "Knowing it, the ignorant man becomes wise, and the wise man becomes speechless and silent, The worshipper is utterly inebriated, His wisdom and his detachment are made perfect; He drinks from the cup of the inbreathings and the outbreathings of love." There the whole sky is filled with sound, and there that music is made without fingers and without strings; There the game of pleasure and pain does not cease. Kabîr says: "If you merge your life in the Ocean of Life, you will find your life in the Supreme Land of Bliss." What a frenzy of ecstasy there is in every hour! and the worshipper is pressing out and drinking the essence of the hours: he lives in the life of Brahma. I speak truth, for I have accepted truth in life; I am now attached to truth, I have swept all tinsel away. Kabîr says: "Thus is the worshipper set free from fear; thus have all errors of life and of death left him." There the sky is filled with music: There it rains nectar: There the harp-strings jingle, and there the drums beat. What a secret splendour is there, in the mansion of the sky! There no mention is made of the rising and the setting of the sun; In the ocean of manifestation, which is the light of love, day and night are felt to be one. Joy for ever, no sorrow,--no struggle! There have I seen joy filled to the brim, perfection of joy; No place for error is there. Kabîr says: "There have I witnessed the sport of One Bliss!" I have known in my body the sport of the universe: I have escaped from the error of this world.. The inward and the outward are become as one sky, the Infinite and the finite are united: I am drunken with the sight of this All! This Light of Thine fulfils the universe: the lamp of love that burns on the salver of knowledge. Kabîr says: "There error cannot enter, and the conflict of life and death is felt no more." XVIII II. 77. _maddh âkas' âp jahân baithe_ The middle region of the sky, wherein the spirit dwelleth, is radiant with the music of light; There, where the pure and white music blossoms, my Lord takes His delight. In the wondrous effulgence of each hair of His body, the brightness of millions of suns and of moons is lost. On that shore there is a city, where the rain of nectar pours and pours, and never ceases. Kabîr says: "Come, O Dharmadas! and see my great Lord's Durbar." XIX II. 20. _paramâtam guru nikat virâjatn_ O my heart! the Supreme Spirit, the great Master, is near you: wake, oh wake! Run to the feet of your Beloved: for your Lord stands near to your head. You have slept for unnumbered ages; this morning will you not wake? XX II. 22. _man tu pâr utar kânh jaiho_ To what shore would you cross, O my heart? there is no traveller before you, there is no road: Where is the movement, where is the rest, on that shore? There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there; There is not so much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw it. No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no ford! There, there is neither body nor mind: and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul? You shall find naught in that emptiness. Be strong, and enter into your own body: for there your foothold is firm. Consider it well, O my heart! go not elsewhere, Kabîr says: "Put all imaginations away, and stand fast in that which you are." XXI II. 33. _ghar ghar dîpak barai_ Lamps burn in every house, O blind one! and you cannot see them. One day your eyes shall suddenly be opened, and you shall see: and the fetters of death will fall from you. There is nothing to say or to hear, there is nothing to do: it is he who is living, yet dead, who shall never die again. Because he lives in solitude, therefore the Yogi says that his home is far away. Your Lord is near: yet you are climbing the palm-tree to seek Him. The Brâhman priest goes from house to house and initiates people into faith: Alas! the true fountain of life is beside you., and you have set up a stone to worship. Kabîr says: "I may never express how sweet my Lord is. Yoga and the telling of beads, virtue and vice--these are naught to Him." XXII II. 38. _Sâdho, so satgur mohi bhâwai_ O brother, my heart yearns for that true Guru, who fills the cup of true love, and drinks of it himself, and offers it then to me. He removes the veil from the eyes, and gives the true Vision of Brahma: He reveals the worlds in Him, and makes me to hear the Unstruck Music: He shows joy and sorrow to be one: He fills all utterance with love. Kabîr says: "Verily he has no fear, who has such a Guru to lead him to the shelter of safety!" XXIII II. 40. _tinwir sâñjh kâ gahirâ âwai_ The shadows of evening fall thick and deep, and the darkness of love envelops the body and the mind. Open the window to the west, and be lost in the sky of love; Drink the sweet honey that steeps the petals of the lotus of the heart. Receive the waves in your body: what splendour is in the region of the sea! Hark! the sounds of conches and bells are rising. Kabîr says: "O brother, behold! the Lord is in this vessel of my body." XXIV II. 48. _jis se rahani apâr jagat men_ More than all else do I cherish at heart that love which makes me to live a limitless life in this world. It is like the lotus, which lives in the water and blooms in the water: yet the water cannot touch its petals, they open beyond its reach. It is like a wife, who enters the fire at the bidding of love. She burns and lets others grieve, yet never dishonours love. This ocean of the world is hard to cross: its waters are very deep. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, O Sadhu! few there are who have reached its end." XXV II. 45. _Hari ne apnâ âp chipâyâ_ My Lord hides Himself, and my Lord wonderfully reveals Himself: My Lord has encompassed me with hardness, and my Lord has cast down my limitations. My Lord brings to me words of sorrow and words of joy, and He Himself heals their strife. I will offer my body and mind to my Lord: I will give up my life, but never can I forget my Lord! XXVI II. 75. _ônkâr siwae kôî sirjai_ All things are created by the Om; The love-form is His body. He is without form, without quality, without decay: Seek thou union with Him! But that formless God takes a thousand forms in the eyes of His creatures: He is pure and indestructible, His form is infinite and fathomless, He dances in rapture, and waves of form arise from His dance. The body and the mind cannot contain themselves, when they are touched by His great joy. He is immersed in all consciousness, all joys, and all sorrows; He has no beginning and no end; He holds all within His bliss. XXVII II. 81. _satgur sôî dayâ kar dînhâ_ It is the mercy of my true Guru that has made me to know the unknown; I have learned from Him how to walk without feet, to see without eyes, to hear without ears, to drink without mouth, to fly without wings; I have brought my love and my meditation into the land where there is no sun and moon, nor day and night. Without eating, I have tasted of the sweetness of nectar; and without water, I have quenched my thirst. Where there is the response of delight, there is the fullness of joy. Before whom can that joy be uttered? Kabîr says: "The Guru is great beyond words, and great is the good fortune of the disciple." XXVIII II. 85. _nirgun âge sargun nâcai_ Before the Unconditioned, the Conditioned dances: "Thou and I are one!" this trumpet proclaims. The Guru comes, and bows down before the disciple: This is the greatest of wonders. XXIX II. 87. _Kabîr kab se bhaye vairâgî_ Gorakhnath asks Kabîr: "Tell me, O Kabîr, when did your vocation begin? Where did your love have its rise?" Kabîr answers: "When He whose forms are manifold had not begun His play: when there was no Guru, and no disciple: when the world was not spread out: when the Supreme One was alone-- Then I became an ascetic; then, O Gorakh, my love was drawn to Brahma. Brahma did not hold the crown on his head; the god Vishnu was not anointed as king; the power of Shiva was still unborn; when I was instructed in Yoga. I became suddenly revealed in Benares, and Râmânanda illumined me; I brought with me the thirst for the Infinite, and I have come for the meeting with Him. In simplicity will I unite with the Simple One; my love will surge up. O Gorakh, march thou with His music!" XXX II. 95. _yâ tarvar men ek pakherû_ On this tree is a bird: it dances in the joy of life. None knows where it is: and who knows what the burden of its music may be? Where the branches throw a deep shade, there does it have its nest: and it comes in the evening and flies away in the morning, and says not a word of that which it means. None tell me of this bird that sings within me. It is neither coloured nor colourless: it has neither form nor outline: It sits in the shadow of love. It dwells within the Unattainable, the Infinite, and the Eternal; and no one marks when it comes and goes. Kabîr says: "O brother Sadhu! deep is the mystery. Let wise men seek to know where rests that bird." XXXI II. 100. _nis` din sâlai ghâw_ A sore pain troubles me day and night, and I cannot sleep; I long for the meeting with my Beloved, and my father's house gives me pleasure no more. The gates of the sky are opened, the temple is revealed: I meet my husband, and leave at His feet the offering of my body and my mind. XXXII II. 103. _nâco re mero man, matta hoy_ Dance, my heart! dance to-day with joy. The strains of love fill the days and the nights with music, and the world is listening to its melodies: Mad with joy, life and death dance to the rhythm of this music. The hills and the sea and the earth dance. The world of man dances in laughter and tears. Why put on the robe of the monk, and live aloof from the world in lonely pride? Behold! my heart dances in the delight of a hundred arts; and the Creator is well pleased. XXXIII II. 105. _man mast huâ tab kyon bole_ Where is the need of words, when love has made drunken the heart? I have wrapped the diamond in my cloak; why open it again and again? When its load was light, the pan of the balance went up: now it is full, where is the need for weighing? The swan has taken its flight to the lake beyond the mountains; why should it search for the pools and ditches any more? Your Lord dwells within you: why need your outward eyes be opened? Kabîr says: "Listen, my brother! my Lord, who ravishes my eyes, has united Himself with me." XXXIV II. 110. _mohi tohi lâgî kaise chute_ How could the love between Thee and me sever? As the leaf of the lotus abides on the water: so thou art my Lord, and I am Thy servant. As the night-bird Chakor gazes all night at the moon: so Thou art my Lord and I am Thy servant. From the beginning until the ending of time, there is love between Thee and me; and how shall such love be extinguished? Kabîr says: "As the river enters into the ocean, so my heart touches Thee." XXXV II. 113. _vâlam, âwo hamâre geh re_ My body and my mind are grieved for the want of Thee; O my Beloved! come to my house. When people say I am Thy bride, I am ashamed; for I have not touched Thy heart with my heart. Then what is this love of mine? I have no taste for food, I have no sleep; my heart is ever restless within doors and without. As water is to the thirsty, so is the lover to the bride. Who is there that will carry my news to my Beloved? Kabîr is restless: he is dying for sight of Him. XXXVI II. 126. _jâg piyârî, ab kân sowai_ O friend, awake, and sleep no more! The night is over and gone, would you lose your day also? Others, who have wakened, have received jewels; O foolish woman! you have lost all whilst you slept. Your lover is wise, and you are foolish, O woman! You never prepared the bed of your husband: O mad one! you passed your time in silly play. Your youth was passed in vain, for you did not know your Lord; Wake, wake! See! your bed is empty: He left you in the night. Kabîr says: "Only she wakes, whose heart is pierced with the arrow of His music." XXXVII I. 36. _sûr parkâs', tanh rain kahân pâïye_ Where is the night, when the sun is shining? If it is night, then the sun withdraws its light. Where knowledge is, can ignorance endure? If there be ignorance, then knowledge must die. If there be lust, how can love be there? Where there is love, there is no lust. Lay hold on your sword, and join in the fight. Fight, O my brother, as long as life lasts. Strike off your enemy's head, and there make an end of him quickly: then come, and bow your head at your King's Durbar. He who is brave, never forsakes the battle: he who flies from it is no true fighter. In the field of this body a great war goes forward, against passion, anger, pride, and greed: It is in the kingdom of truth, contentment and purity, that this battle is raging; and the sword that rings forth most loudly is the sword of His Name. Kabîr says: "When a brave knight takes the field, a host of cowards is put to flight. It is a hard fight and a weary one, this fight of the truth-seeker: for the vow of the truth-seeker is more hard than that of the warrior, or of the widowed wife who would follow her husband. For the warrior fights for a few hours, and the widow's struggle with death is soon ended: But the truth-seeker's battle goes on day and night, as long as life lasts it never ceases." XXXVIII I. 50. _bhram kâ tâlâ lagâ mahal re_ The lock of error shuts the gate, open it with the key of love: Thus, by opening the door, thou shalt wake the Beloved. Kabîr says: "O brother! do not pass by such good fortune as this." XXXIX I. 59. _sâdho, yah tan thâth tanvure ka_ O friend! this body is His lyre; He tightens its strings, and draws from it the melody of Brahma. If the strings snap and the keys slacken, then to dust must this instrument of dust return: Kabîr says: "None but Brahma can evoke its melodies." XL I. 65. _avadhû bhûle ko ghar lâwe_ He is dear to me indeed who can call back the wanderer to his home. In the home is the true union, in the home is enjoyment of life: why should I forsake my home and wander in the forest? If Brahma helps me to realize truth, verily I will find both bondage and deliverance in home. He is dear to me indeed who has power to dive deep into Brahma; whose mind loses itself with ease in His contemplation. He is dear to me who knows Brahma, and can dwell on His supreme truth in meditation; and who can play the melody of the Infinite by uniting love and renunciation in life. Kabîr says: "The home is the abiding place; in the home is reality; the home helps to attain Him Who is real. So stay where you are, and all things shall come to you in time." XLI I. 76. _santo, sahaj samâdh bhalî_ O sadhu! the simple union is the best. Since the day when I met with my Lord, there has been no end to the sport of our love. I shut not my eyes, I close not my ears, I do not mortify my body; I see with eyes open and smile, and behold His beauty everywhere: I utter His Name, and whatever I see, it reminds me of Him; whatever I do., it becomes His worship. The rising and the setting are one to me; all contradictions are solved. Wherever I go, I move round Him, All I achieve is His service: When I lie down, I lie prostrate at His feet. He is the only adorable one to me: I have none other. My tongue has left off impure words, it sings His glory day and night: Whether I rise or sit down, I can never forget Him; for the rhythm of His music beats in my ears. Kabîr says: "My heart is frenzied, and I disclose in my soul what is hidden. I am immersed in that one great bliss which transcends all pleasure and pain." XLII I. 79. _tîrath men to sab pânî hai_ There is nothing but water at the holy bathing places; and I know that they are useless, for I have bathed in them. The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak; I know, for I have cried aloud to them. The Purana and the Koran are mere words; lifting up the curtain, I have seen. Kabîr gives utterance to the words of experience; and he knows very well that all other things are untrue. XLIII I. 82. _pânî vic mîn piyâsî_ I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty: You do not see that the Real is in your home, and you wander from forest to forest listlessly! Here is the truth! Go where you will, to Benares or to Mathura; if you do not find your soul, the world is unreal to you. XLIV I. 93. _gagan math gaib nisân gade_ The Hidden Banner is planted in the temple of the sky; there the blue canopy decked with the moon and set with bright jewels is spread. There the light of the sun and the moon is shining: still your mind to silence before that splendour. Kabîr says: "He who has drunk of this nectar, wanders like one who is mad." XLV I. 97. _sâdho, ko hai kânh se âyo_ Who are you, and whence do you come? Where dwells that Supreme Spirit, and how does He have His sport with all created things? The fire is in the wood; but who awakens it suddenly? Then it turns to ashes, and where goes the force of the fire? The true guru teaches that He has neither limit nor infinitude. Kabîr says: "Brahma suits His language to the understanding of His hearer." XLVI I. 98. _sâdho, sahajai kâyâ s'odho_ O sadhu! purify your body in the simple way. As the seed is within the banyan tree, and within the seed are the flowers, the fruits, and the shade: So the germ is within the body, and within that germ is the body again. The fire, the air, the water, the earth, and the aether; you cannot have these outside of Him. O, Kazi, O Pundit, consider it well: what is there that is not in the soul? The water-filled pitcher is placed upon water, it has water within and without. It should not be given a name, lest it call forth the error of dualism. Kabîr says: "Listen to the Word, the Truth, which is your essence. He speaks the Word to Himself; and He Himself is the Creator." XLVII I. 102. _tarvar ek mûl vin thâdâ_ There is a strange tree, which stands without roots and bears fruits without blossoming; It has no branches and no leaves, it is lotus all over. Two birds sing there; one is the Guru, and the other the disciple: The disciple chooses the manifold fruits of life and tastes them, and the Guru beholds him in joy. What Kabîr says is hard to understand: "The bird is beyond seeking, yet it is most clearly visible. The Formless is in the midst of all forms. I sing the glory of forms." XLVIII I. 107. _calat mansâ acal kînhî_ I have stilled my restless mind, and my heart is radiant: for in Thatness I have seen beyond That-ness. In company I have seen the Comrade Himself. Living in bondage, I have set myself free: I have broken away from the clutch of all narrowness. Kabîr says: "I have attained the unattainable, and my heart is coloured with the colour of love." XLIX I. 105. _jo dîsai, so to hai nâhîn_ That which you see is not: and for that which is, you have no words. Unless you see, you believe not: what is told you you cannot accept. He who is discerning knows by the word; and the ignorant stands gaping. Some contemplate the Formless, and others meditate on form: but the wise man knows that Brahma is beyond both. That beauty of His is not seen of the eye: that metre of His is not heard of the ear. Kabîr says: "He who has found both love and renunciation never descends to death." L I. 126. _muralî bajat akhand sadâye_ The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing, and its sound is love: When love renounces all limits, it reaches truth. How widely the fragrance spreads! It has no end, nothing stands in its way. The form of this melody is bright like a million suns: incomparably sounds the vina, the vina of the notes of truth. LI I. 129. _sakhiyo, ham hûn bhâî vâlamâs'î_ Dear friend, I am eager to meet my Beloved! My youth has flowered, and the pain of separation from Him troubles my breast. I am wandering yet in the alleys of knowledge without purpose, but I have received His news in these alleys of knowledge. I have a letter from my Beloved: in this letter is an unutterable message, and now my fear of death is done away. Kabîr says: "O my loving friend! I have got for my gift the Deathless One." LII I. 130. _sâîn vin dard kareje hoy_ When I am parted from my Beloved, my heart is full of misery: I have no comfort in the day, I have no sleep in the night. To whom shall I tell my sorrow? The night is dark; the hours slip by. Because my Lord is absent, I start up and tremble with fear. Kabîr says: "Listen, my friend! there is no other satisfaction, save in the encounter with the Beloved." LIII I. 122. _kaum muralî s'abd s'un ânand bhayo_ What is that flute whose music thrills me with joy? The flame burns without a lamp; The lotus blossoms without a root; Flowers bloom in clusters; The moon-bird is devoted to the moon; With all its heart the rain-bird longs for the shower of rain; But upon whose love does the Lover concentrate His entire life? LIV I. 112. _s'untâ nahî dhun kî khabar_ Have you not heard the tune which the Unstruck Music is playing? In the midst of the chamber the harp of joy is gently and sweetly played; and where is the need of going without to hear it? If you have not drunk of the nectar of that One Love, what boots it though you should purge yourself of all stains? The Kazi is searching the words of the Koran, and instructing others: but if his heart be not steeped in that love, what does it avail, though he be a teacher of men? The Yogi dyes his garments with red: but if he knows naught of that colour of love, what does it avail though his garments be tinted? Kabîr says: "Whether I be in the temple or the balcony, in the camp or in the flower garden, I tell you truly that every moment my Lord is taking His delight in me." LV I. 73. _bhakti kâ mârag jhînâ re_ Subtle is the path of love! Therein there is no asking and no not-asking, There one loses one's self at His feet, There one is immersed in the joy of the seeking: plunged in the deeps of love as the fish in the water. The lover is never slow in offering his head for his Lord's service. Kabîr declares the secret of this love. LVI I. 68. _bhâi kôî satguru sant kahâwaî_ He is the real Sadhu, who can reveal the form of the Formless to the vision of these eyes: Who teaches the simple way of attaining Him, that is other than rites or ceremonies: Who does not make you close the doors, and hold the breath, and renounce the world: Who makes you perceive the Supreme Spirit wherever the mind attaches itself: Who teaches you to be still in the midst of all your activities. Ever immersed in bliss, having no fear in his mind, he keeps the spirit of union in the midst of all enjoyments. The infinite dwelling of the Infinite Being is everywhere: in earth, water, sky, and air: Firm as the thunderbolt, the seat of the seeker is established above the void. He who is within is without: I see Him and none else. LVII I. 66. _sâdho, s'abd sâdhnâ kîjai_ Receive that Word from which the Universe springeth! That word is the Guru; I have heard it, and become the disciple. How many are there who know the meaning of that word? O Sadhu! practise that Word! The Vedas and the Puranas proclaim it, The world is established in it, The Rishis and devotees speak of it: But none knows the mystery of the Word. The householder leaves his house when he hears it, The ascetic comes back to love when he hears it, The Six Philosophies expound it, The Spirit of Renunciation points to that Word, From that Word the world-form has sprung, That Word reveals all. Kabîr says: "But who knows whence the Word cometh? LVIII I. 63. _pîle pyâlâ, ho matwâlâ_ Empty the Cup! O be drunken! Drink the divine nectar of His Name! Kabîr says: "Listen to me, dear Sadhu! From the sole of the foot to the crown of the head this mind is filled with poison." LIX I. 52. _khasm na cînhai bâwari_ O man, if thou dost not know thine own Lord, whereof art thou so proud? Put thy cleverness away: mere words shall never unite thee to Him. Do not deceive thyself with the witness of the Scriptures: Love is something other than this, and he who has sought it truly has found it. LX I. 56. _sukh sindh kî sair kâ_ The savour of wandering in the ocean of deathless life has rid me of all my asking: As the tree is in the seed, so all diseases are in this asking. LXI I. 48. _sukh sâgar men âîke_ When at last you are come to the ocean of happiness, do not go back thirsty. Wake, foolish man! for Death stalks you. Here is pure water before you; drink it at every breath. Do not follow the mirage on foot, but thirst for the nectar; Dhruva, Prahlad, and Shukadeva have drunk of it, and also Raidas has tasted it: The saints are drunk with love, their thirst is for love. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, brother! The nest of fear is broken. Not for a moment have you come face to face with the world: You are weaving your bondage of falsehood, your words are full of deception: With the load of desires which you. hold on your head, how can you be light?" Kabîr says: "Keep within you truth, detachment, and love." LXII I. 35. _satî ko kaun s'ikhâwtâ hai_ Who has ever taught the widowed wife to burn herself on the pyre of her dead husband? And who has ever taught love to find bliss in renunciation? LXIII I. 39. _are man, dhîraj kâhe na dharai_ Why so impatient, my heart? He who watches over birds, beasts, and insects, He who cared for you whilst you were yet in your mother's womb, Shall He not care for you now that you are come forth? Oh my heart, how could you turn from the smile of your Lord and wander so far from Him? You have left Your Beloved and are thinking of others: and this is why all your work is in vain. LXIV I. 117. _sâîn se lagan kathin hai, bhâî_ Now hard it is to meet my Lord! The rain-bird wails in thirst for the rain: almost she dies of her longing, yet she would have none other water than the rain. Drawn by the love of music, the deer moves forward: she dies as she listens to the music, yet she shrinks not in fear. The widowed wife sits by the body of her dead husband: she is not afraid of the fire. Put away all fear for this poor body. LXV I. 22. _jab main bhûlâ, re bhâî_ O brother! when I was forgetful, my true Guru showed me the Way. Then I left off all rites and ceremonies, I bathed no more in the holy water: Then I learned that it was I alone who was mad, and the whole world beside me was sane; and I had disturbed these wise people. From that time forth I knew no more how to roll in the dust in obeisance: I do not ring the temple bell: I do not set the idol on its throne: I do not worship the image with flowers. It is not the austerities that mortify the flesh which are pleasing to the Lord, When you leave off your clothes and kill your senses, you do not please the Lord: The man who is kind and who practises righteousness, who remains passive amidst the affairs of the world, who considers all creatures on earth as his own self, He attains the Immortal Being, the true God is ever with him. Kabîr says: "He attains the true Name whose words are pure, and who is free from pride and conceit." LXVI I. 20. _man na rangâye_ The Yogi dyes his garments, instead of dyeing his mind in the colours of love: He sits within the temple of the Lord, leaving Brahma to worship a stone. He pierces holes in his ears, he has a great beard and matted locks, he looks like a goat: He goes forth into the wilderness, killing all his desires, and turns himself into an eunuch: He shaves his head and dyes his garments; he reads the Gîtâ and becomes a mighty talker. Kabîr says: "You are going to the doors of death, bound hand and foot!" LXVII I. 9. _nâ jâne sâhab kaisâ hai_ I do not know what manner of God is mine. The Mullah cries aloud to Him: and why? Is your Lord deaf? The subtle anklets that ring on the feet of an insect when it moves are heard of Him. Tell your beads, paint your forehead with the mark of your God, and wear matted locks long and showy: but a deadly weapon is in your heart, and how shall you have God? LXVIII III. 102. _ham se rahâ na jây_ I hear the melody of His flute, and I cannot contain myself: The flower blooms, though it is not spring; and already the bee has received its invitation. The sky roars and the lightning flashes, the waves arise in my heart, The rain falls; and my heart longs for my Lord. Where the rhythm of the world rises and falls, thither my heart has reached: There the hidden banners are fluttering in the air. Kabîr says: "My heart is dying, though it lives." LXIX III. 2. _jo khodâ masjid vasat hai_ If God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong? If Ram be within the image which you find upon your pilgrimage, then who is there to know what happens without? Hari is in the East: Allah is in the West. Look within your heart, for there you will find both Karim and Ram; All the men and women of the world are His living forms. Kabîr is the child of Allah and of Ram: He is my Guru, He is my Pir. LXX III. 9. _s'îl santosh sadâ samadrishti_ He who is meek and contented., he who has an equal vision, whose mind is filled with the fullness of acceptance and of rest; He who has seen Him and touched Him, he is freed from all fear and trouble. To him the perpetual thought of God is like sandal paste smeared on the body, to him nothing else is delight: His work and his rest are filled with music: he sheds abroad the radiance of love. Kabîr says: "Touch His feet, who is one and indivisible, immutable and peaceful; who fills all vessels to the brim with joy, and whose form is love." LXXI III. 13. _sâdh sangat pîtam_ Go thou to the company of the good, where the Beloved One has His dwelling place: Take all thy thoughts and love and instruction from thence. Let that assembly be burnt to ashes where His Name is not spoken! Tell me, how couldst thou hold a wedding-feast, if the bridegroom himself were not there? Waver no more, think only of the Beloved; Set not thy heart on the worship of other gods, there is no worth in the worship of other masters. Kabîr deliberates and says: "Thus thou shalt never find the Beloved!" LXXII III. 26. _tor hîrâ hirâilwâ kîcad men_ The jewel is lost in the mud, and all are seeking for it; Some look for it in the east, and some in the west; some in the water and some amongst stones. But the servant Kabîr has appraised it at its true value, and has wrapped it with care in the end of the mantle of his heart. LXXIII III. 26. _âyau din gaune kâ ho_ The palanquin came to take me away to my husband's home, and it sent through my heart a thrill of joy; But the bearers have brought me into the lonely forest, where I have no one of my own. O bearers, I entreat you by your feet, wait but a moment longer: let me go back to my kinsmen and friends, and take my leave of them. The servant Kabîr sings: "O Sadhu! finish your buying and selling, have done with your good and your bad: for there are no markets and no shops in the land to which you go." LXXIV III. 30. _are dil, prem nagar kä ant na pâyâ_ O my heart! you have not known all the secrets of this city of love: in ignorance you came, and in ignorance you return. O my friend, what have you done with this life? You have taken on your head the burden heavy with stones, and who is to lighten it for you? Your Friend stands on the other shore, but you never think in your mind how you may meet with Him: The boat is broken, and yet you sit ever upon the bank; and thus you are beaten to no purpose by the waves. The servant Kabîr asks you to consider; who is there that shall befriend you at the last? You are alone, you have no companion: you will suffer the consequences of your own deeds. LXXV III. 55. _ved kahe sargun ke âge_ The Vedas say that the Unconditioned stands beyond the world of Conditions. O woman, what does it avail thee to dispute whether He is beyond all or in all? See thou everything as thine own dwelling place: the mist of pleasure and pain can never spread there. There Brahma is revealed day and night: there light is His garment, light is His seat, light rests on thy head. Kabîr says: "The Master, who is true, He is all light." LXXVI III. 48. _tû surat nain nihâr_ Open your eyes of love, and see Him who pervades this world I consider it well, and know that this is your own country. When you meet the true Guru, He will awaken your heart; He will tell you the secret of love and detachment, and then you will know indeed that He transcends this universe. This world is the City of Truth, its maze of paths enchants the heart: We can reach the goal without crossing the road, such is the sport unending. Where the ring of manifold joys ever dances about Him, there is the sport of Eternal Bliss. When we know this, then all our receiving and renouncing is over; Thenceforth the heat of having shall never scorch us more. He is the Ultimate Rest unbounded: He has spread His form of love throughout all the world. From that Ray which is Truth, streams of new forms are perpetually springing: and He pervades those forms. All the gardens and groves and bowers are abounding with blossom; and the air breaks forth into ripples of joy. There the swan plays a wonderful game, There the Unstruck Music eddies around the Infinite One; There in the midst the Throne of the Unheld is shining, whereon the great Being sits-- Millions of suns are shamed by the radiance of a single hair of His body. On the harp of the road what true melodies are being sounded! and its notes pierce the heart: There the Eternal Fountain is playing its endless life-streams of birth and death. They call Him Emptiness who is the Truth of truths, in Whom all truths are stored! There within Him creation goes forward, which is beyond all philosophy; for philosophy cannot attain to Him: There is an endless world, O my Brother! and there is the Nameless Being, of whom naught can be said. Only he knows it who has reached that region: it is other than all that is heard and said. No form, no body, no length, no breadth is seen there: how can I tell you that which it is? He comes to the Path of the Infinite on whom the grace of the Lord descends: he is freed from births and deaths who attains to Him. Kabîr says: "It cannot be told by the words of the mouth, it cannot be written on paper: It is like a dumb person who tastes a sweet thing--how shall it be explained?" LXXVII III. 60. _cal hamsâ wâ des' jahân_ O my heart! let us go to that country where dwells the Beloved, the ravisher of my heart! There Love is filling her pitcher from the well, yet she has no rope wherewith to draw water; There the clouds do not cover the sky, yet the rain falls down in gentle showers: O bodiless one! do not sit on your doorstep; go forth and bathe yourself in that rain! There it is ever moonlight and never dark; and who speaks of one sun only? that land is illuminate with the rays of a million suns. LXXVIII III. 63. _kahain Kabîr, s'uno ho sâdho_ Kabîr says: "O Sadhu! hear my deathless words. If you want your own good, examine and consider them well. You have estranged yourself from the Creator, of whom you have sprung: you have lost your reason, you have bought death. All doctrines and all teachings are sprung from Him, from Him they grow: know this for certain, and have no fear. Hear from me the tidings of this great truth! Whose name do you sing, and on whom do you meditate? O, come forth from this entanglement! He dwells at the heart of all things, so why take refuge in empty desolation? If you place the Guru at a distance from you, then it is but the distance that you honour: If indeed the Master be far away, then who is it else that is creating this world? When you think that He is not here, then you wander further and further away, and seek Him in vain with tears. Where He is far off, there He is unattainable: where He is near, He is very bliss. Kabîr says: "Lest His servant should suffer pain He pervades him through and through." Know yourself then, O Kabîr; for He is in you from head to foot. Sing with gladness, and keep your seat unmoved within your heart. LXXIX III. 66. _nâ main dharmî nahîn adharmî_ I am neither pious nor ungodly, I live neither by law nor by sense, I am neither a speaker nor hearer, I am neither a servant nor master, I am neither bond nor free, I am neither detached nor attached. I am far from none: I am near to none. I shall go neither to hell nor to heaven. I do all works; yet I am apart from all works. Few comprehend my meaning: he who can comprehend it, he sits unmoved. Kabîr seeks neither to establish nor to destroy. LXXX III. 69. _satta nâm hai sab ten nyârâ_ The true Name is like none other name! The distinction of the Conditioned from the Unconditioned is but a word: The Unconditioned is the seed, the Conditioned is the flower and the fruit. Knowledge is the branch, and the Name is the root. Look, and see where the root is: happiness shall be yours when you come to the root. The root will lead you to the branch, the leaf, the flower, and the fruit: It is the encounter with the Lord, it is the attainment of bliss, it is the reconciliation of the Conditioned and the Unconditioned. LXXXI III. 74. _pratham ek jo âpai âp_ In the beginning was He alone, sufficient unto Himself: the formless, colourless, and unconditioned Being. Then was there neither beginning, middle, nor end; Then were no eyes, no darkness, no light; Then were no ground, air, nor sky; no fire, water, nor earth; no rivers like the Ganges and the Jumna, no seas, oceans, and waves. Then was neither vice nor virtue; scriptures there were not, as the Vedas and Puranas, nor as the Koran. Kabîr ponders in his mind and says, "Then was there no activity: the Supreme Being remained merged in the unknown depths of His own self." The Guru neither eats nor drinks, neither lives nor dies: Neither has He form, line, colour, nor vesture. He who has neither caste nor clan nor anything else--how may I describe His glory? He has neither form nor formlessness, He has no name, He has neither colour nor colourlessness, He has no dwelling-place. LXXXII III. 76. _kahain Kabîr vicâr ke_ Kabîr ponders and says: "He who has neither caste nor country, who is formless and without quality, fills all space." The Creator brought into being the Game of Joy: and from the word Om the Creation sprang. The earth is His joy; His joy is the sky; His joy is the flashing of the sun and the moon; His joy is the beginning, the middle, and the end; His joy is eyes, darkness, and light. Oceans and waves are His joy: His joy the Sarasvati, the Jumna, and the Ganges. The Guru is One: and life and death., union and separation, are all His plays of joy! His play the land and water, the whole universe! His play the earth and the sky! In play is the Creation spread out, in play it is established. The whole world, says Kabîr, rests in His play, yet still the Player remains unknown. LXXXIII III. 84. _jhî jhî jantar bâjai_ The harp gives forth murmurous music; and the dance goes on without hands and feet. It is played without fingers, it is heard without ears: for He is the ear, and He is the listener. The gate is locked, but within there is fragrance: and there the meeting is seen of none. The wise shall understand it. LXXXIV III. 89. _mor phakîrwâ mângi jây_ The Beggar goes a-begging, but I could not even catch sight of Him: And what shall I beg of the Beggar He gives without my asking. Kabîr says: "I am His own: now let that befall which may befall!" LXXXV III. 90. _naihar se jiyarâ phât re_ My heart cries aloud for the house of my lover; the open road and the shelter of a roof are all one to her who has lost the city of her husband. My heart finds no joy in anything: my mind and my body are distraught. His palace has a million gates, but there is a vast ocean between it and me: How shall I cross it, O friend? for endless is the outstretching of the path. How wondrously this lyre is wrought! When its strings are rightly strung, it maddens the heart: but when the keys are broken and the strings are loosened, none regard it more. I tell my parents with laughter that I must go to my Lord in the morning; They are angry, for they do not want me to go, and they say: "She thinks she has gained such dominion over her husband that she can have whatsoever she wishes; and therefore she is impatient to go to him." Dear friend, lift my veil lightly now; for this is the night of love. Kabîr says: "Listen to me! My heart is eager to meet my lover: I lie sleepless upon my bed. Remember me early in the morning!" LXXXVI III. 96. _jîv mahal men S'iv pahunwâ_ Serve your God, who has come into this temple of life! Do not act the part of a madman, for the night is thickening fast. He has awaited me for countless ages, for love of me He has lost His heart: Yet I did not know the bliss that was so near to me, for my love was not yet awake. But now, my Lover has made known to me the meaning of the note that struck my ear: Now, my good fortune is come. Kabîr says: "Behold! how great is my good fortune! I have received the unending caress of my Beloved!" LXXXVII I. 71. _gagan ghatâ ghaharânî, sâdho_ Clouds thicken in the sky! O, listen to the deep voice of their roaring; The rain comes from the east with its monotonous murmur. Take care of the fences and boundaries of your fields, lest the rains overflow them; Prepare the soil of deliverance, and let the creepers of love and renunciation be soaked in this shower. It is the prudent farmer who will bring his harvest home; he shall fill both his vessels, and feed both the wise men and the saints. LXXXVIII III. 118. _âj din ke main jaun balihârî_ This day is dear to me above all other days, for to-day the Beloved Lord is a guest in my house; My chamber and my courtyard are beautiful with His presence. My longings sing His Name, and they are become lost in His great beauty: I wash His feet, and I look upon His Face; and I lay before Him as an offering my body, my mind, and all that I have. What a day of gladness is that day in which my Beloved, who is my treasure, comes to my house! All evils fly from my heart when I see my Lord. "My love has touched Him; my heart is longing for the Name which is Truth." Thus sings Kabîr, the servant of all servants. LXXXIX I. 100. _kôi s'untâ hai jñânî râg gagan men_ Is there any wise man who will listen to that solemn music which arises in the sky? For He, the Source of all music, makes all vessels full fraught, and rests in fullness Himself. He who is in the body is ever athirst, for he pursues that which is in part: But ever there wells forth deeper and deeper the sound "He is this--this is He"; fusing love and renunciation into one. Kabîr says: "O brother! that is the Primal Word." XC I. 108. _main kâ se bûjhaun_ To whom shall I go to learn about my Beloved? Kabîr says: "As you never may find the forest if you ignore the tree, so He may never be found in abstractions." XCI III. 12. _samskirit bhâshâ padhi lînhâ_ I have learned the Sanskrit language, so let all men call me wise: But where is the use of this, when I am floating adrift, and parched with thirst, and burning with the heat of desire? To no purpose do you bear on your head this load of pride and vanity. Kabîr says: "Lay it down in the dust, and go forth to meet the Beloved. Address Him as your Lord." XCII III. 110. _carkhâ calai surat virahin kâ_ The woman who is parted from her lover spins at the spinning wheel. The city of the body arises in its beauty; and within it the palace of the mind has been built. The wheel of love revolves in the sky, and the seat is made of the jewels of knowledge: What subtle threads the woman weaves, and makes them fine with love and reverence! Kabîr says: "I am weaving the garland of day and night. When my Lover comes and touches me with His feet, I shall offer Him my tears." XCIII III. 111. _kotîn bhânu candra târâgan_ Beneath the great umbrella of my King millions of suns and moons and stars are shining! He is the Mind within my mind: He is the Eye within mine eye. Ah, could my mind and eyes be one! Could my love but reach to my Lover! Could but the fiery heat of my heart be cooled! Kabîr says: "When you unite love with the Lover, then you have love's perfection." XCIV I. 92. _avadhû begam des' hamârâ_ O sadhu! my land is a sorrowless land. I cry aloud to all, to the king and the beggar, the emperor and the fakir-- Whosoever seeks for shelter in the Highest, let all come and settle in my land! Let the weary come and lay his burdens here! So live here, my brother, that you may cross with ease to that other shore. It is a land without earth or sky, without moon or stars; For only the radiance of Truth shines in my Lord's Durbar. Kabîr says: "O beloved brother! naught is essential save Truth." XCV I. 109. _sâîn ke sangat sâsur âî_ Came with my Lord to my Lord's home: but I lived not with Him and I tasted Him not, and my youth passed away like a dream. On my wedding night my women-friends sang in chorus, and I was anointed with the unguents of pleasure and pain: But when the ceremony was over, I left my Lord and came away, and my kinsman tried to console me upon the road. Kabîr says, "I shall go to my Lord's house with my love at my side; then shall I sound the trumpet of triumph!" XCVI I. 75. _samajh dekh man mît piyarwâ_ O friend, dear heart of mine, think well! if you love indeed, then why do you sleep? If you have found Him, then give yourself utterly, and take Him to you. Why do you loose Him again and again? If the deep sleep of rest has come to your eyes, why waste your time making the bed and arranging the pillows? Kabîr says: "I tell you the ways of love! Even though the head itself must be given, why should you weep over it?" XCVII II. 90. _sâhab ham men, sâhab tum men_ The Lord is in me, the Lord is in you, as life is in every seed. O servant! put false pride away, and seek for Him within you. A million suns are ablaze with light, The sea of blue spreads in the sky, The fever of life is stilled, and all stains are washed away; when I sit in the midst of that world. Hark to the unstruck bells and drums! Take your delight in love! Rains pour down without water, and the rivers are streams of light. One Love it is that pervades the whole world, few there are who know it fully: They are blind who hope to see it by the light of reason, that reason which is the cause of separation-- The House of Reason is very far away! How blessed is Kabîr, that amidst this great joy he sings within his own vessel. It is the music of the meeting of soul with soul; It is the music of the forgetting of sorrows; It is the music that transcends all coming in and all going forth. XCVIII II. 98. _ritu phâgun niyarânî_ The month of March draws near: ah, who will unite me to my Lover? How shall I find words for the beauty of my Beloved? For He is merged in all beauty. His colour is in all the pictures of the world, and it bewitches the body and the mind. Those who know this, know what is this unutterable play of the Spring. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, brother' there are not many who have found this out." XCIX II. 111. _Nârad, pyâr so antar nâhî_ Oh Narad! I know that my Lover cannot be far: When my Lover wakes, I wake; when He sleeps, I sleep. He is destroyed at the root who gives pain to my Beloved. Where they sing His praise, there I live; When He moves, I walk before Him: my heart yearns for my Beloved. The infinite pilgrimage lies at His feet, a million devotees are seated there. Kabîr says: "The Lover Himself reveals the glory of true love." C II. 122. _kôî prem kî peng jhulâo re_ Hang up the swing of love to-day! Hang the body and the mind between the arms of the Beloved, in the ecstasy of love's joy: Bring the tearful streams of the rainy clouds to your eyes, and cover your heart with the shadow of darkness: Bring your face nearer to His ear, and speak of the deepest longings of your heart. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, brother! bring the vision of the Beloved in your heart." 
12333	----	The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 3 VANA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] THE MAHABHARATA VANA PARVA PART 2 SECTION CXLV (continued from previous e-book) And the ruddy geese, and the gallinules and the ducks and the _karandavas_ and the _plavas_ and the parrots and the male _kokilas_ and the herons in confusion flew in all directions, while some proud elephants urged by their mates, as also some lions and elephants in rage, flew at Bhimasena. And as they were distracted at heart through fear, these fierce animals discharging urine and dung, set up loud yells with gapping mouths. Thereupon the illustrious and graceful son of the wind-god, the mighty Pandava, depending upon the strength of his arms, began to slay one elephant with another elephant and one lion with another lion while he despatched the others with slaps. And on being struck by Bhima the lions and the tigers and the leopards, in fright gave loud cries and discharged urine and dung. And after having destroyed these the handsome son of Pandu, possessed of mighty strength, entered into the forest, making all sides resound with his shouts. And then the long-armed one saw on the slopes of the Gandhamadana a beautiful plantain tree spreading over many a _yojana_. And like unto a mad lion, that one of great strength proceeded amain towards that tree breaking down various plants. And that foremost of strong persons--Bhima--uprooting innumerable plaintain trunks equal in height to many palm-trees (placed one above another), cast them on all sides with force. And that highly powerful one, haughty like a male lion, sent up shouts. And then he encountered countless beasts of gigantic size, and stags, and monkeys, and lions, and buffaloes, and aquatic animals. And what with the cries of these, and what with the shouts of Bhima, even the beasts and birds that were at distant parts of the wood, became all frightened. And hearing those cries of beasts and birds, myriads of aquatic fowls suddenly rose up on wetted wings. And seeing these fowls of water, that bull among the Bharatas proceeded in that direction; and saw a vast and romantic lake. And that fathomless lake was, as it were, being fanned by the golden plantain trees on the coast, shaken by the soft breezes. And immediately descending into the lake abounding in lilies and lotuses, he began to sport lustily like unto a mighty maddened elephant. Having thus sported there for a long while, he of immeasurable effulgence ascended, in order to penetrate with speed into that forest filled with trees. Then the Pandava winded with all his might his loud-blowing shell. And striking his arms with his hands, the mighty Bhima made all the points of heaven resound. And filled with the sounds of the shell, and with the shouts of Bhimasena, and also with the reports produced by the striking of his arms, the caves of the mountain seemed as if they were roaring. And hearing those loud arm-strokes, like unto the crashing of thunder, the lions that were slumbering in the caves, uttered mighty howls. And being terrified by the yelling of the lions, the elephants, O Bharata, sent forth tremendous roars, which filled the mountain. And hearing those sounds emitted, and knowing also Bhimasena to be his brother, the ape Hanuman, the chief of monkeys, with the view of doing good to Bhima, obstructed the path leading to heaven. And thinking that he (Bhima) should not pass that way, (Hanuman) lay across the narrow path, beautified by plantain trees, obstructing it for the sake of the safety of Bhima. With the object that Bhima might not come by curse or defeat, by entering into the plantain wood, the ape Hanuman of huge body lay down amidst the plantain trees, being overcome with drowsiness. And he began to yawn, lashing his long tail, raised like unto the pole consecrated to Indra, and sounding like thunder. And on all sides round, the mountains by the mouths of caves emitted those sounds in echo, like a cow lowing. And as it was being shaken by the reports produced by the lashing of the tail, the mountain with its summits tottering, began to crumble all around. And overcoming that roaring of mad elephants, the sounds of his tail spread over the varied slopes of the mountain. "On those sounds being heard the down of Bhima's body stood on end; and he began to range that plantain wood, in search of those sounds. And that one of mighty arms saw the monkey-chief in the plantain wood, on an elevated rocky base. And he was hard to be looked at even as the lightning-flash; and of coppery hue like that of the lightning-flash; and endued with the voice of the lightning-flash; and quick moving as the lightning-flash; and having his short flesh neck supported on his shoulders; and with his waist slender in consequence of the fullness of his shoulders. And his tail covered with long hair, and a little bent at the end, was raised like unto a banner. And (Bhima) saw Hanuman's head furnished with small lips, and coppery face and tongue, and red ears, and brisk eyes, and bare white incisors sharpened at the edge. And his head was like unto the shining moon; adorned with white teeth within the mouth; and with mane scattered over, resembling a heap of _asoka_ flowers. And amidst the golden plantain trees, that one of exceeding effulgence was lying like unto a blazing fire, with his radiant body. And that slayer of foes was casting glances with his eyes reddened with intoxication. And the intelligent Bhima saw that mighty chief of monkeys, of huge body, lying like unto the Himalaya, obstructing the path of heaven. And seeing him alone in that mighty forest, the undaunted athletic Bhima, of long arms, approached him with rapid strides, and uttered a loud shout like unto the thunder. And at that shout of Bhima, beasts and birds became all alarmed. The powerful Hanuman, however, opening his eyes partially looked at him (Bhima) with disregard, with eyes reddened with intoxication. And then smilingly addressing him, Hanuman said the following words, 'Ill as I am, I was sleeping sweetly. Why hast thou awakened me? Thou shouldst show kindness to all creatures, as thou hast reason. Belonging to the animal species, we are ignorant of virtue. But being endued with reason, men show kindness towards creatures. Why do then reasonable persons like thee commit themselves to acts contaminating alike body, speech, and heart, and destructive of virtue? Thou knowest not what virtue is, neither hast thou taken council of the wise. And therefore it is that from ignorance, and childishness thou destroyest the lower animals. Say, who art thou, and what for hast thou come to the forest devoid of humanity and human beings? And, O foremost of men, tell thou also, whither thou wilt go to-day. Further it is impossible to proceed. Yonder hills are inaccessible. O hero, save the passage obtained by the practice of asceticism, there is no passage to that place. This is the path of the celestials; it is ever impassable by mortals. Out of kindness, O hero, do I dissuade thee. Do thou hearken unto my words. Thou canst not proceed further from this place. Therefore, O lord, do thou desist. O chief of men, to-day in every way thou art welcome to this place. If thou think it proper to accept my words, do thou then, O best of men, rest here, partaking of fruits and roots, sweet as ambrosia, and do not have thyself destroyed for naught.'" SECTION CXLVI Vaisampayana said, "O represser of foes, hearing these words of the intelligent monkey-chief, the heroic Bhima answered, 'Who art thou? And why also hast thou assumed the shape of a monkey? It is a Kshatriya--one of a race next to the Brahmanas--that asketh thee. And he belongeth to the Kuru race and the lunar stock, and was borne by Kunti in her womb, and is one of the sons of Pandu, and is the off spring of the windgod, and is known by the name of Bhimasena.' Hearing these words of the Kuru hero, Hanuman smiled, and that son of the wind-god (Hanuman) spake unto that offspring of the windgod (Bhimasena), saying, 'I am a monkey, I will not allow thee the passage thou desirest. Better desist and go back. Do thou not meet with destruction.' At this Bhimasena replied, 'Destruction at anything else do I not ask thee about, O monkey. Do thou give me passage. Arise! Do not come by grief at my hands.' Hanuman said, 'I have no strength to rise; I am suffering from illness. If go thou must, do thou go by overleaping me.' Bhima said, 'The Supreme Soul void of the properties pervadeth a body all over. Him knowable alone by knowledge, I cannot disregard. And therefore, will I not overleap thee. If I had not known Him from Whom become manifest all creatures, I would have leapt over thee and also the mountain, even as Hanuman had bounded over the ocean.' Thereupon Hanuman said, 'Who is that Hanuman, who had bounded over the ocean? I ask thee, O best of men. Relate if thou canst.' Bhima replied, 'He is even my brother, excellent with every perfection, and endued with intelligence and strength both of mind and body. And he is the illustrious chief of monkeys, renowned in the Ramayana. And for Rama's queen, that king of the monkeys even with one leap crossed the ocean extending over a hundred _yojanas_. That mighty one is my brother. I am equal unto him in energy, strength and prowess and also in fight. And able am I to punish thee. So arise. Either give me passage or witness my prowess to-day. If thou do not listen to my bidding, I shall send thee to the abode of Yama.'" Vaisampayana continued. "Then knowing him (Bhima) to be intoxicated with strength, and proud of the might of his arms, Hanuman, slighting him at heart, said the following words, 'Relent thou, O sinless one. In consequence of age, I have no strength to get up. From pity for me, do thou go, moving aside my tail.' Being thus addressed by Hanuman, Bhima proud of the strength of his arms, took him for one wanting in energy and prowess, and thought within himself, 'Taking fast hold of the tail, will I send this monkey destitute of energy and prowess, to the region of Yama.' Thereat, with a smile he slightingly took hold of the tail with his left hand; but could not move that tail of the mighty monkey. Then with both arms he pulled it, resembling the pole reared in honour of Indra. Still the mighty Bhima could not raise the tail with both his arms. And his eye-brows were contracted up, and his eyes rolled, and his face was contracted into wrinkles and his body was covered with sweat; and yet he could not raise it. And when after having striven, the illustrious Bhima failed in raising the tail, he approached the side of the monkey, and stood with a bashful countenance. And bowing down, Kunti's son, with joined hands, spake these words, 'Relent thou, O foremost of monkeys; and forgive me for my harsh words. Art thou a Siddha, or a god, or a Gandharva, or a Guhyaka? I ask thee out of curiosity. Tell me who thou art that hast assumed the shape of monkey, if it be not a secret, O long-armed one, and if I can well hear it. I ask thee as a disciple, and I, O sinless one, seek thy refuge.' Thereupon Hanuman said, 'O represser of foes, even to the extent of thy curiosity to know me, shall I relate all at length. Listen, O son of Pandu! O lotus-eyed one, I was begotten by the windgod that life of the world--upon the wife of Kesari. I am a monkey, by name Hanuman. All the mighty monkey-kings, and monkey-chiefs used to wait upon that son of the sun, Sugriva, and that son of Sakra, Vali. And, O represser of foes, a friendship subsisted between me and Sugriva, even as between the wind and fire. And for some cause, Sugriva, driven out by his brother, for a long time dwelt with me at the Hri-syamukh. And it came to pass that the mighty son of Dasaratha the heroic Rama, who is Vishnu's self in the shape of a human being, took his birth in this world. And in company with his queen and brother, taking his bow, that foremost of bowmen with the view of compassing his father's welfare, began to reside in the Dandaka forest. And from Janasthana, that mighty Rakshasa monarch, the wicked Ravana, carried away his (Rama's) queen by stratagem and force, deceiving, O sinless one, that foremost of men, through the agency of a Rakshasa, Maricha, who assumed the form of a deer marked with gem-like and golden spots.'" SECTION CXLVII "Hanuman said, 'And after his wife was carried away, that descendant of Raghu, while searching with his brother for his queen, met, on the summit of that mountain, with Sugriva, chief of the monkeys. Then a friendship was contracted between him and the high-souled Raghava. And the latter, having slain Vali installed Sugriva in the kingdom. And having obtained the kingdom, Sugriva sent forth monkeys by hundreds and by thousands in search of Sita. And, O best of men, I too with innumerable monkeys set out towards the south in quest of Sita, O mighty-armed one. Then a mighty vulture Sampati by name, communicated the tidings that Sita was in the abode of Ravana. Thereupon with the object of securing success unto Rama, I all of a sudden bounded over the main, extending for a hundred _yojanas_. And, O chief of the Bharatas, having by my own prowess crossed the ocean, that abode of sharks and crocodiles, I saw in Ravana's residence, the daughter of king Janaka, Sita, like unto the daughter of a celestial. And having interviewed that lady, Vaidehi, Rama's beloved, and burnt the whole of Lanka with its towers and ramparts and gates, and proclaimed my name there, I returned. Hearing everything from me the lotus-eyed Rama at once ascertained his course of action, and having for the passage of his army constructed a bridge across the deep, crossed it followed by myriads of monkeys. Then by prowess Rama slew those Rakshasas in battle, and also Ravana, the oppressor of the worlds together with his Rakshasa followers. And having slain the king of the Rakshasas, with his brother, and sons and kindred, he installed in the kingdom in Lanka the Rakshasa chief, Vibhishana, pious, and reverent, and kind to devoted dependants. Then Rama recovered his wife even like the lost Vaidic revelation. Then Raghu's son, Rama, with his devoted wife, returned to his own city, Ayodhya, inaccessible to enemies; and that lord of men began to dwell there. Then that foremost of kings, Rama was established in the kingdom. Thereafter, I asked a boon of the lotus-eyed Rama, saying, "O slayer of foes, Rama, may I live as long as the history of thy deeds remaineth extant on earth!" Thereupon he said, "So be it." O represser of foes, O Bhima, through the grace of Sita also, here all excellent objects of entertainment are supplied to me, whoever abide at this place. Rama reigned for the thousand and ten hundred years. Then he ascended to his own abode. Ever since, here Apsaras and Gandharvas delight me, singing for aye the deeds of that hero, O sinless one. O son of the Kurus, this path is impassable to mortals. For this, O Bharata, as also with the view that none might defeat or curse thee, have I obstructed thy passage to this path trod by the immortals. This is one of the paths to heaven, for the celestials; mortals cannot pass this way. But the lake in search of which thou hast come, lieth even in that direction.'" SECTION CXLVIII Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, the powerful Bhimasena of mighty arms, affectionately, and with a cheerful heart, bowed unto his brother, Hanuman, the monkey-chief, and said in mild words, 'None is more fortunate than I am; now have I seen my elder brother. It is a great favour shown unto me; and I have been well pleased with thee. Now I wish that thou mayst fulfil this desire of mine. I desire to behold, O hero, that incomparable form of thine, which thou at that time hadst had, in bounding over the main, that abode of sharks and crocodiles. Thereby I shall be satisfied, and also believe in thy words.' Thus addressed, that mighty monkey said with a smile, 'That form of mine neither thou, not any one else can behold. At that age, the state of things was different, and doth not exist at present. In the Krita age, the state of things was one; and in the Treta, another; and in the Dwapara, still another. Diminution is going on this age; and I have not that form now. The ground, rivers, plants, and rocks, and _siddhas_, gods, and celestial sages conform to Time, in harmony with the state of things in the different yugas. Therefore, do not desire to see my former shape, O perpetuator of the Kuru race. I am conforming to the tendency of the age. Verily, Time is irresistible.' Bhimasena said, 'Tell me of the duration of the different yugas, and of the different manners and customs and of virtue, pleasure and profit, and of acts, and energy, and of life and death in the different yugas.' Thereupon Hanuman said, 'O child, that yuga is called Krita when the one eternal religion was extant. And in that best of yugas, every one had religious perfection, and, therefore, there was no need of religious acts. And then virtue knew no deterioration; nor did people decrease. It is for this that this age is called Krita (perfect). But in time the yuga had come to be considered as an inferior one. And, O child, in the Krita age, there were neither gods, nor demons, nor Gandharvas, nor Yakshas, nor Rakshasas, nor Nagas. And there was no buying and selling. And the Sama, the Rich, and the Yajus did not exist. And there was no manual labour. And then the necessaries of life were obtained only by being thought of. And the only merit was in renouncing the world. And during that yuga, there was neither disease, nor decay of the senses. And there was neither malice, nor pride, nor hypocrisy, nor discord, nor ill-will, nor cunning, nor fear, nor misery, nor envy, nor covetousness. And for this, that prime refuge of Yogis, even the Supreme Brahma, was attainable to all. And Narayana wearing a white hue was the soul of all creatures. And in the Krita Yuga, the distinctive characteristics of Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras were natural and these ever stuck to their respective duties. And then Brahma was the sole refuge, and their manners and customs were naturally adapted to the attainment of Brahma and the objects of their knowledge was the sole Brahma, and all their acts also had reference to Brahma. In this way all the orders attained merit. And one uniform Soul was the object of their meditation; and there was only one _mantra_ (the _Om_), and there was one ordinance. And although of different characteristics, all of them followed a single Veda; and they had one religion. And according to the divisions of time, they led the four modes of life, without aiming at any object, and so they attained emancipation. The religion consisting in the identification of self with Brahma indicates the Krita Yuga. And in the Krita Yuga, the virtue of the four orders is throughout entire in four-fold measure. Such is the Krita Yuga devoid of the three qualities. Do thou also hear from me of the character of the Treta Yuga. In this age, sacrifices are introduced, and virtue decreaseth by a quarter. And Narayana (who is the Soul of all creatures) assumeth a red colour. And men practise truth, and devote themselves to religion and religious rites. And thence sacrifices and various religious observances come into existence. And in the Treta Yuga people begin to devise means for the attainment of an object; and they attain it through acts and gifts. And they never deviate from virtue. And they are devoted to asceticism and to the bestowal of gifts. And the four orders adhere to their respective duties; and perform rites. Such are the men of the Treta Yuga. In the Dwapara Yuga, religion decreaseth by one half. And Narayana weareth a yellow hue. And the Veda becometh divided into four parts. And then some men retain (the knowledge of) the four Vedas, and some of three Vedas, and some of one Veda, while others do not know even the Richs. And on the Shastras becoming thus divided, acts become multiplied. And largely influenced by passion, people engage in asceticism and gifts. And from their incapacity to study the entire Veda, it becomes divided into several parts. And in consequence of intellect having decreased, few are established in truth. And when people fall off from truth, they become subject to various diseases; and then lust, and natural calamities ensue. And afflicted with these, people betake themselves to penances. And some celebrate sacrifices, desiring to enjoy the good things of life, or attain heaven. On the coming of the Dwapara Yuga, men become degenerate, in consequence of impiety. O son of Kunti, in the Kali Yuga a quarter only of virtue abideth. And in the beginning of this iron age, Narayana weareth a black hue. And the Vedas and the institutes, and virtue, and sacrifices, and religious observances, fall into disuse. And (then) reign _iti_[1], and disease, and lassitude, and anger and other deformities, and natural calamities, and anguish, and fear of scarcity. And as the yugas wane, virtue dwindles. And as virtue dwindles away, creatures degenerate. And as creatures degenerate, their natures undergo deterioration. And the religious acts performed at the waning of the yugas, produce contrary effects. And even those that live for several yugas, conform to these changes. O represser of foes, as regards thy curiosity to know me, I say this,--Why should a wise person be eager to know a superfluous matter? (Thus), O long-armed one, have I narrated in full what thou hadst asked me regarding the characteristics of the different yugas. Good happen to thee! Do thou return.'" [1] Iti means these six things, unfavourable to crops--excessive rain, drought, rats, locusts, birds, and a neighbouring hostile king. SECTION CXLIX "Bhimasena said, 'Without beholding thy former shape, I will never go away. If I have found favour with thee, do thou then show me thine own shape.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Being thus addressed by Bhima, the monkey with a smile showed him that form of his in which he had bounded over the main. And wishing to gratify his brother, Hanuman assumed a gigantic body which (both) in length and breadth increased exceedingly. And that monkey of immeasurable effulgence stood there, covering the plantain grove furnished with trees, and elevating himself to the height reached by the Vindhya. And the monkey, having attained his lofty and gigantic body like unto a mountain, furnished with coppery eyes, and sharp teeth, and a face marked by frown, lay covering all sides and lashing his long tail. And that son of the Kurus, Bhima, beholding that gigantic form of his brother, wondered, and the hairs of his body repeatedly stood on end. And beholding him like unto the sun in splendour, and unto a golden mountain, and also unto the blazing firmament, Bhima closed his eyes. Thereupon Hanuman addressed Bhima with a smile, saying, 'O sinless one, thou art capable of beholding my size up to this extent. I can, however, go on swelling my size as long as I wish. And, O Bhima, amidst foes, my size increaseth exceedingly by its own energy.'" Vaisampayana said, "Witnessing that dreadful and wonderful body of Hanuman, like unto the Vindhya mountain, the son of the wind-god became bewildered. Then with his down standing erect, the noble-minded Bhima, joining his hands, replied unto Hanuman saying (there), 'O lord, by me have been beheld the vast dimensions of thy body. Do thou (now), O highly powerful one, decrease thyself by thy own power. Surely I cannot look at thee, like unto the sun risen, and of immeasurable (power), and irrepressible, and resembling the mountain Mainaka. O hero, to-day this wonder of my heart is very great, that thou remaining by his side, Rama should have encountered Ravana personally. Depending on the strength of thy arms, thou wert capable of instantly destroying Lanka, with its warriors, and horses, elephants and chariots. Surely, O son of the wind-god, there is nothing that is incapable of being achieved by thee; and in fight, Ravana together with his followers was no match for thee single-handed.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Bhima, Hanuman, the chief of monkeys, answered in affectionate words uttered in solemn accents. 'O mighty-armed one, O Bharata, it is even as thou sayest. O Bhimasena, that worst of Rakshasas was no match for me. But if I had slain Ravana--that thorn of the worlds--the glory of Raghu's son would have been obscured;--and for this it is that I left him alone. By slaying that lord of the Rakshasas together with his followers, and bringing back Sita unto his own city, that hero hath established his fame among men. Now, O highly wise one, being intent on the welfare of thy brothers, and protected by the wind-god, do thou go along a fortunate and auspicious way. O foremost of the Kurus, this way will lead thee to the Saugandhika wood. (Proceeding in this direction), thou wilt behold the gardens of Kuvera, guarded by Yakshas and Rakshasas. Do thou not pluck the flowers (there) personally by thy own force; for the gods deserve regard specially from mortals. O best of the Bharata race, the gods confer their favour (upon men), (being propitiated) by offerings, and _homas_, and reverential salutations, and recitation of _mantras_, and veneration, O Bharata. Do thou not, therefore, act with rashness, O child; and do thou not deviate from the duties of thy order. Sticking to the duties of thy order, do thou understand and follow the highest morality. Without knowing duties and serving the old, even persons like unto Vrihaspati cannot understand profit and religion. One should ascertain with discrimination those cases in which vice goeth under the name of virtue, and virtue goeth under the name of vice,--(cases) in which people destitute of intelligence become perplexed. From religious observances proceedeth merit; and in merit are established the Vedas; and from the Vedas sacrifices come into existence; and by sacrifices are established the gods. The gods are maintained by the (celebration of) sacrifices prescribed by the Vedas and the religious ordinances; while men maintain themselves by (following) the ordinances of Vrihaspati and Usanas and also by these avocations, by which the world is maintained,--serving for wages, (receiving) taxes, merchandise, agriculture and tending kine and sheep. The world subsisteth by profession. The (study of the) three Vedas and agriculture and trade and government constitutes, it is ordained by the wise, the professions of the twice born ones; and each order maintaineth itself by following the profession prescribed for it. And when these callings are properly pursued, the world is maintained with ease. If, however, people do not righteously lead their lives, the world becometh lawless, in consequence of the want of Vedic merit and government. And if people do not resort to (their) prescribed vocations, they perish, but by regularly following the three professions, they bring about religion. The religion of the Brahmanas consisteth in the knowledge of the soul and the hue of that order alone is universally the same. The celebration of sacrifices, and study and bestowal of gifts are well-known to be the three duties common (to all these orders). Officiating at sacrifices, teaching and the acceptance of gifts are the duties of a Brahmana. To rule (the subjects) is the duty of the Kshatriya; and to tend (cattle), that of the Vaisya, while to serve the twice-born orders is said to be the duty of the Sudra. The Sudras cannot beg alms, or perform _homas_, or observe vows; and they must dwell in the habitation of their masters. Thy vocation, O son of Kunti, is that of the Kshatriya, which is to protect (the subjects). Do thou carry out thy own duties, in an humble spirit, restraining thy senses. That king alone can govern, who taketh counsel of experienced men, and is helped by honest, intelligent and learned ministers; but a king who is addicted to vices, meeteth with defeat. Then only is the order of the world secured, when the king duly punisheth and conferreth favours. Therefore, it is necessary to ascertain through spies the nature of the hostile country, its fortified places and the allied force of the enemy and their prosperity and decay and the way in which they retain the adhesion of the powers they have drawn to their side. Spies are among the important auxiliaries of the king; and tact, diplomacy, prowess, chastisement, favour and cleverness lead to success. And success is to be attained through these, either in separation, or combined--namely, conciliation, gift, sowing dissensions, chastisement, and sight. And, O chief of the Bharatas, polity hath for its root diplomacy; and diplomacy also is the main qualification of spies. And polity, if well judged conferreth success. Therefore, in matters of polity the counsels of Brahmanas should be resorted to. And in secret affairs, these should not be consulted,--namely, a woman, a sot, a boy, a covetous person, a mean-minded individual, and he that betrayeth signs of insanity. Wise men only should be consulted, and affairs are to be despatched through officers that are able. And polity must be executed through persons that are friendly; but dunces should in all affairs be excluded. In matters religious, pious men; and in matters of gain, wise men; and in guarding families, eunuchs; and in all crooked affairs, crooked men, must be employed. And the propriety or impropriety of the resolution of the enemy, as also their strength or weakness, must be ascertained through one's own as well as hostile spies. Favour should be shown to honest persons that have prudently sought protection; but lawless and disobedient individuals should be punished. And when the king justly punisheth and showeth favour, the dignity of the law is well maintained. O son of Pritha, thus have I expounded, unto thee the hard duties of kings difficult to comprehend. Do thou with equanimity observe these as prescribed for thy order. The Brahmanas attain heaven through merit, mortification of the senses, and sacrifice. The Vaisyas attain excellent state through gifts, hospitality, and religious acts. The Kshatriyas attain the celestial regions by protecting and chastising the subjects, uninfluenced by lust, malice, avarice and anger. If kings justly punish (their subjects), they go to the place whither repair meritorious persons.'" SECTION CL Vaisampayana said, "Then contracting that huge body of his, which he had assumed at will, the monkey with his arms again embraced Bhimasena. And O Bharata, on Bhima being embraced by his brother, his fatigue went off, and all (the powers of body) as also his strength were restored. And having gained great accession of strength, he thought that there was none equal to him in physical power. And with tears in his eyes, the monkey from affection again addressed Bhima in choked utterance, saying, 'O hero, repair to thy own abode. May I be incidentally remembered by thee in thy talk! O best of Kurus, do not tell any one that I abide here. O thou of great strength, the most excellent of the wives of the gods and Gandharvas resort to this place, and the time of their arrival is nigh. My eyes have been blessed (by seeing thee). And, O Bhima, having felt a human being by coming in contact with thee, I have been put in mind of that son of Raghu, who was Vishnu himself under the name of Rama, and who delighted the heart of the world; and who was as the sun in regard to the lotus face of Sita, and also to that darkness--Ravana. Therefore, O heroic son of Kunti, let not thy meeting with me be fruitless. Do thou with fraternal feeling ask of me a boon, O Bharata. If this be thy wish, that going to Varanavata, I may destroy the insignificant sons of Dhritarashtra--even this will I immediately do. Or if this be thy wish that, that city may be ground by me with rocks, or that I may bind Duryodhana and bring him before thee, even this will I do to-day, O thou of mighty strength.'" Vaisampayana said, "Hearing those words of that high-souled one, Bhimasena with a cheerful heart answered Hanuman, saying, 'O foremost of monkeys, I take all this as already performed by thee. Good happen to thee. O mighty-armed one! I ask of thee this,--be thou well pleased with me. O powerful one, on thy having become our protector, the Pandavas have found help. Even by thy prowess shall we conquer all foes.' Thus addressed, Hanuman said unto Bhimasena, 'From fraternal feeling and affection, I will do good unto thee, by diving into the army of thy foes copiously furnished with arrows and javelins. And, O highly powerful one, O hero, when thou shall give leonine roars, then shall I with my own, add force to shouts. Remaining on the flagstaff of Arjuna's car will I emit fierce shouts that will damp the energy of thy foes. Thereby ye will slay them easily.' Having said this unto Pandu's son, and also pointed him out the way. Hanuman vanished at that spot." SECTION CLI Vaisampayana said, "When that foremost of monkeys had gone away, Bhima, the best of strong men, began to range the huge Gandhamadana along that path. And he went on, thinking of Hanuman's body and splendour unrivalled on earth, and also of the greatness and dignity of Dasaratha's son. And proceeding in search of the place filled with lotuses of that kind, Bhima beheld romantic woods, and groves, and rivers, and lakes graced with trees bearing blossoms, and flowery woodlands variegated with various flowers. And, O Bharata, he beheld herds of mad elephants besmeared with mud, resembling masses of pouring clouds. And that graceful one went on with speed, beholding by the wayside woods wherein there stood with their mates deer of quick glances, holding the grass in their mouths. And fearless from prowess, Bhimasena, as if invited by the breeze-shaken trees of the forest ever fragrant with flowers, bearing delicate coppery twigs, plunged into the mountainous regions inhabited by buffaloes, bears and leopards. And on the way, he passed by lotus-lakes haunted by maddened black-bees, having romantic descents and woods, and on account of the presence of lotus-buds, appearing as if they had joined their hands (before Bhima). And having for his provisions on the journey the words of Draupadi, Bhima went on with speed, his mind and sight fixed on the blooming slopes of the mountain. And when the sun passed the meridian, he saw in the forest scattered over with deer, a mighty river filled with fresh golden lotuses. And being crowded with swans and Karandavas, and graced with Chakravakas, the river looked like a garland of fresh lotuses put on by the mountain. And in that river that one of great strength found the extensive assemblage of Saugandhika lotuses, effulgent as the rising sun, and delightful to behold. And beholding it, Pandu's son thought within himself that his object had been gained, and also mentally presented himself before his beloved worn out by exile." SECTION CLII Vaisampayana said, "Having reached that spot, Bhimasena saw in the vicinity of the Kailasa cliff, that beautiful lotus lake surrounded by lovely woods, and guarded by the Rakshasas. And it sprang from the cascades contiguous to the abode of Kuvera. And it was beautiful to behold, and was furnished with a wide-spreading shade and abounded in various trees and creepers and was covered with green lilies. And this unearthly lake was filled with golden lotuses, and swarmed with diverse species of birds. And its banks were beautiful and devoid of mud. And situated on the rocky elevation this expanse of excellent water was exceedingly fair. And it was the wonder of the world and healthful and of romantic sight. In that lake the son of Kunti saw, the water of ambrosial taste and cool and light and clear and fresh; and the Pandava drank of it profusely. And that unearthly receptacle of waters was covered with celestial Saugandhika lotuses, and was also spread over with beautiful variegated golden lotuses of excellent fragrance having graceful stalks of _lapis lazulis_. And swayed by swans and Karandavas, these lotuses were scattering fresh farina. And this lake was the sporting region of the high-souled Kuvera, the king of the Yakshas. And it was held in high regard by the Gandharvas, the Apsaras and the celestials. And it was frequented by the celestial sages and the Yakshas and the Kimpurushas and the Rakshasas and the Kinnaras; and it was well-protected by Kuvera. And as soon as he beheld that river and that unearthly lake, Kunti's son, Bhimasena of mighty strength became exceedingly delighted. And agreeably to the mandate of their king, hundreds and thousands of Rakshasas, named Krodhavasas, were guarding that lake, wearing uniforms and armed with various weapons. And as that repressor of foes, Kunti's son, the heroic Bhima of dreadful prowess, clad in deer-skins and wearing golden armlets and equipped with weapons and girding his sword on, was fearlessly proceeding, with the view of gathering the lotus, those (Rakshasas) saw him and immediately began to address each other, shouting forth, 'It behoveth you to enquire for the errand on which this foremost of men, clad in deer skins, and equipped with arms, hath come.' Then they all approached the effulgent Vrikodara of mighty arms and asked, 'Who art thou? Thou shouldst answer our questions. We see thee in the guise of an ascetic and yet armed with weapons. O thou of mighty intelligence, do thou unfold unto us the object with which thou hast come (hither).'" SECTION CLIII "Bhima said, 'I am the son of Pandu, and next by birth to Yudhishthira the just, and my name is Bhimasena. O Rakshasas, I have come with my brothers to the jujube named Visala. At that place, Panchali saw an excellent Saugandhika lotus, which, of a certainty, was carried thither by the wind from this region. She wisheth to have those flowers in abundance. Know ye, ye Rakshasas, that I am engaged in fulfilling the desire of my wedded wife of faultless features, and have come hither to procure the flowers.' Thereat the Rakshasas said, 'O foremost of men, this spot is dear unto Kuvera, and it is his sporting region. Men subject to death cannot sport here. O Vrikodara, the celestial sages, and the gods taking the permission of the chief of the Yakshas, drink of this lake, and sport herein. And, O Pandava, the Gandharvas and the Apsaras also divert themselves in this lake. That wicked person who, disregarding the lord of treasures, unlawfully attempteth to sport here, without doubt, meeteth with destruction. Disregarding him, thou seekest to take away the lotuses from this place by main force. Why then dost thou say that thou art the brother of Yudhishthira the just? First, taking the permission of the lord of Yakshas, do thou drink of this lake and take away the flowers. If thou dost not do this, thou shall not be able even to glance at a single lotus.' Bhimasena said, 'Ye Rakshasas, I do not see the lord of wealth here. And even if I did see that mighty king, I would not beseech him: Kshatriyas never beseech (any body). This is the eternal morality; and I by no means wish to forsake the Kshatriya morality. And, further this lotus-lake hath sprung from the cascades of the mountain; it hath not been excavated in the mansion of Kuvera. Therefore it belongeth equally to all creatures with Vaisravana. In regard to a thing of such a nature, who goeth to beseech another?'" Vaisampayana said, "Having said this unto the Rakshasas, the mighty-armed and exceedingly unforbearing Bhimasena of great strength plunged into the lotus-lake. Thereat that powerful one was forbidden by the Rakshasas, saying, 'Do not do this;' and they from all sides began to abuse him in anger. But slighting these Rakshasas, that mighty one of dreadful prowess plunged (farther and farther). Now they all prepared for opposing him. And with eyes rolling, they upraised their arms, and rushed in wrath at Bhimasena, exclaiming, 'Seize him! Bind him! Hew him! We shall cook Bhimasena, and eat him up!' Thereupon that one of great force, taking his ponderous and mighty mace inlaid with golden plates, like unto the mace of Yama himself, turned towards those, and then said, 'Stay!' At this, they darted at him with vehemence, brandishing lances, and axes, and other weapons. And wishing to destroy Bhima, the dreadful and fierce Krodhavasas surrounded Bhima on all sides. But that one, being endued with strength, had been begotten by Vayu in the womb of Kunti; and he was heroic and energetic, and the slayer of foes, and ever devoted to virtue and truth, and incapable of being vanquished by enemies through prowess. Accordingly this high-souled Bhima defeating all the manoeuvres of the foes, and breaking their arms, killed on the banks of the lake more than a hundred, commencing with the foremost. And then witnessing his prowess and strength, and the force of his skill, and also the might of his arms, and unable to bear (the onset), those prime heroes all of a sudden fled on all sides in bands. "Beaten and pierced by Bhimasena, those Krodhavasas quitted the field of battle, and in confusion quickly fled towards the Kailasa cliff, supporting themselves in the sky. Having thus by the exercise of his prowess defeated those hosts, even as Sakra had defeated the armies of Daityas and Danavas, he (Bhima), now that he had conquered the enemy, plunged into the lake and began to gather the lotuses, with the object of gaining his purpose. And as he drank of the waters, like unto nectar, his energy and strength were again fully restored; and he fell to plucking and gathering Saugandhika lotuses of excellent fragrance. On the other hand, the Krodhavasas, being driven by the might of Bhima and exceedingly terrified, presented themselves before the lord of wealth, and gave an exact account of Bhima's prowess and strength in fight. Hearing their words, the god (Kuvera) smiled and then said, 'Let Bhima take for Krishna as many lotuses as he likes. This is already known to me.' Thereupon taking the permission of the lord of wealth, those (Rakshasas) renouncing anger, went to that foremost of the Kurus, and in that lotus-lake beheld Bhima alone, disporting in delight." SECTION CLIV Vaisampayana said, "Then, O best of the Bharatas, Bhima began to collect those rare unearthly, variegated and fresh flowers in abundance. "And it came to pass that a high and violent wind, piercing to the touch, and blowing about gravels, arose, portending battle. And frightful meteors began to shoot, with thundering sounds. And being enveloped by darkness, the sun became pale, his rays being obscured. And on Bhima displaying his prowess, dreadful sounds of explosion rang through the sky. And the earth began to tremble, and dust fell in showers. And the points of the heavens became reddened. And beasts and birds began to cry in shrill tones. And every thing became enveloped in darkness; and nothing could be distinguished. And other evil omens besides these appeared there. Witnessing these strange phenomena, Dharma's son Yudhishthira, the foremost of speakers, said, 'Who is it that will overcome us? Ye Pandavas who take delight in battle, good betide you! Do ye equip yourselves. From what I see, I infer that the time for the display of our prowess hath drawn nigh.' Having said this, the king looked around. Then not finding Bhima, that represser of foes, Dharma's son, Yudhishthira, enquired of Krishna and the twins standing near regarding his brother, Bhima, the doer of dreadful deeds in battle, saying, 'O Panchali, is Bhima intent upon performing some great feat, or hath that one delighting in daring deeds already achieved some brave deed? Portending some great danger, these omens have appeared all around, indicating a fearful battle.' When Yudhishthira said this, his beloved queen, the high-minded Krishna of sweet smiles, answered him, in order to remove his anxiety. 'O king, that Saugandhika lotus which to-day had been brought by the wind, I had out of love duly shown unto Bhimasena; and I had also said unto that hero, If thou canst find many of this species, procuring even all of them, do thou return speedily,--O Pandava, that mighty armed one, with the view of gratifying my desire, may have gone towards the north-east to bring them.' Having heard these words of hers, the king said unto the twins, 'Let us together follow the path taken by Vrikodara. Let the Rakshasas carry those Brahmanas that are fatigued and weak. O Ghatotkacha, O thou like unto a celestial, do thou carry Krishna. I am convinced and it is plain that Bhima hath dived into the forest; for it is long since he hath gone, and in speed he resembleth the wind, and in clearing over the ground, he is swift like unto Vinata's son, and he will ever leap into the sky, and alight at his will. O Rakshasas, we shall follow him through your prowess. He will not at first do any wrong to the Siddhas versed in the Vedas.' O best of the Bharatas, saying, 'So be it,' Hidimva's son and the other Rakshasas who knew the quarter where the lotus lake of Kuvera was situated, started cheerfully with Lomasa, bearing the Pandavas, and many of the Brahmanas. Having shortly reached that spot, they saw that romantic lake covered with Saugandhika and other lotuses and surrounded by beautiful woods. And on its shores they beheld the high-souled and vehement Bhima, as also the slaughtered Yakshas of large eyes, with their bodies, eyes, arms and thighs smashed, and their heads crushed. And on seeing the high-souled Bhima, standing on the shore of that lake in an angry mood, and with steadfast eyes, and biting his lip, and stationed on the shore of the lake with his mace upraised by his two hands, like unto Yama with his mace in his hand at the time of the universal dissolution, Yudhishthira the just, embraced him again and again, and said in sweet words, 'O Kaunteya, what hast thou done? Good betide thee! If thou wishest to do good unto me, thou shouldst never again commit such a rash act, nor offend the gods.' Having thus instructed the son of Kunti, and taken the flowers those god-like ones began to sport in that very lake. At this instant, the huge-bodied warders of the gardens, equipped with rocks for weapons, presented themselves at the spot. And seeing Yudhishthira the just and the great sage Lomasa and Nakula and Sahadeva and also the other foremost of Brahmanas, they all bowed themselves down in humility. And being pacified by Yudhishthira the just, the Rakshasas became satisfied. And with the knowledge of Kuvera, those foremost of Kurus for a short time dwelt pleasantly at that spot on the slopes of the Gandhamadana, expecting Arjuna." SECTION CLV Vaisampayana said, "Once upon a time Yudhishthira, while living at that place, addressed Krishna, his brother, and the Brahmanas, saying, 'By us have been attentively seen one after another sacred and auspicious _tirthas_, and woods, delightful to beheld, which had ere this been visited by the celestials and the high-souled sages, and which had been worshipped by the Brahmanas. And in various sacred asylums we have performed ablutions with Brahmanas, and have heard from them the lives and acts of many sages, and also of many royal sages of yore, and other pleasant stories. And with flowers and water have the gods been worshipped by us. And with offerings of fruits and roots as available at each place we have gratified the _pitris_. And with the high-souled ones have we performed ablutions in all sacred and beautiful mountains and lakes, and also in the highly sacred ocean. And with the Brahmanas we have bathed in the Ila, and in the Saraswati, and in the Sindhu, and in the Yamuna, and in the Narmada, and in various other romantic _tirthas_. And having passed the source of the Ganga, we have seen many a lovely hill and the Himalaya mountains, inhabited by various species of birds, and also the jujube named Visala, where there is the hermitage of Nara and Narayana. And (finally) we have beheld this unearthly lake, held in veneration by the Siddhas, the gods and the sages. In fact, O foremost of Brahmanas, we have one by one carefully seen all celebrated and sacred spots in company with the high-souled Lomasa. Now, O Bhima, how shall we repair to the sacred abode of Vaisravana, inhabited by the Siddhas? Do thou think of the means of entering (the same).'" Vaisampayana said, "When that king had said this, an aerial voice spake, saying. 'Thou will not be able to go to that inaccessible spot. By this very way, do thou repair from this region of Kuvera to the place whence thou hadst come even to the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, known by the name of Vadari. Thence, O Kaunteya, thou wilt repair to the hermitage of Vrishaparva, abounding in flowers and fruit, and inhabited by the Siddhas and the Charanas. Having passed that, O Partha, thou wilt proceed to the hermitage of Arshtishena, and from thence thou wilt behold the abode of Kuvera.' Just at that moment the breeze became fresh, and gladsome and cool and redolent of unearthly fragrance; and it showered blossoms, And on hearing the celestial voice from the sky, they all were amazed,--more specially those earthly _rishis_ and the Brahmanas. On hearing this mighty marvel, the Brahmana Dhaumya, said, 'This should not be gainsaid. O Bharata, let this be so.' Thereupon, king Yudhishthira obeyed him. And having returned to the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, he began to dwell pleasantly, surrounded by Bhimasena and his other brothers, Panchali, and the Brahmanas." SECTION CLVI Vaisampayana continued, "Thus dwelling with the Brahmanas in that best of mountains, in expectation of Arjuna's return, when the Pandavas had grown confident and when all those Rakshasas together with Bhima's son had departed, one day while Bhimasena was away, a Rakshasa all of a sudden carried off Yudhishthira the just and the twins and Krishna. That Rakshasa (in the guise of a Brahmana) had constantly remained in the company of the Pandavas, alleging that he was a high-class Brahmana, skilled in counsel, and versed in all the _Sastras_. His object was to possess himself of the bows, the quivers and the other material implements belonging to the Pandavas; and he had been watching for an opportunity of ravishing Draupadi. And that wicked and sinful one was named Jatasura. And, O king of kings, Pandu's son (Yudhishthira) had been supporting him, but knew not that wretch like unto a fire covered with ashes. "And once on a day while that represser of foes, Bhimasena, was out hunting, he (the Rakshasa), seeing Ghatotkacha and his followers scatter in different directions and seeing those vow-observing great _rishis_, of ascetic wealth, viz., Lomasa and the rest, away for bathing and collecting flowers, assumed a different form, gigantic and monstrous and frightful; and having secured all the arms (of the Pandavas) as also Draupadi, that wicked one fled away taking the three Pandavas. Thereupon that son of Pandu, Sahadeva, extricated himself with exertion, and by force snatched the sword named Kausika from the grasp of the enemy and began to call Bhimasena, taking the direction in which that mighty one had gone. And on being carried off Yudhishthira the just, addressed him (that Rakshasa), saying, 'O stupid one, thy merit decreaseth (even by this act of thine). Dost thou not pay heed unto the established order of nature? Whether belonging to the human race, or to the lower orders, all pay regard to virtue,--more specially the Rakshasas. In the first instance, they knew virtue better than others. Having considered all these, thou ought to adhere to virtue. O Rakshasa, the gods, the _pitris_, the Siddhas, the _rishis_, the Gandharvas, the brutes and even the worms and ants depend for their lives on men; and thou too liveth through that agency. If prosperity attendeth the human race, thy race also prospereth; and if calamities befall the former, even the celestials suffer grief. Being gratified by offerings, do the gods thrive. O Rakshasa, we are the guardians, governors and preceptors of kingdoms. If kingdoms become unprotected, whence can proceed prosperity and happiness? Unless there be offence, a Rakshasa should not violate a king. O man-eating one, we have committed no wrong, ever so little. Living on _vighasa_, we serve the gods and others to the best of our power. And we are ever intent upon bowing down to our superiors and Brahmanas. A friend, and one confiding, and he whose food hath been partaken of, and he that hath afforded shelter, should never be injured. Thou hast lived in our place happily, being duly honoured. And, O evil-minded one, having partaken of our food, how canst thou carry us off? And as thy acts are so improper and as thou hast grown in age without deriving any benefit and as thy propensities are evil, so thou deservest to die for nothing, and for nothing wilt thou die to-day. And if thou beest really evil-disposed and devoid of all virtue, do thou render us back our weapons and ravish Draupadi after fight. But if through stupidity thou must do this deed, then in the world thou wilt only reap demerit and infamy. O Rakshasa, by doing violence to this female of the human race, thou hast drunk poison, after having shaken the vessel.' Thereupon, Yudhishthira made himself ponderous to the Rakshasa. And being oppressed with the weight, he could not proceed rapidly as before. Then addressing Draupadi, Nakula and Sahadeva, Yudhishthira said, 'Do ye not entertain any fear of this wretched Rakshasa, I have checked his speed. The mighty-armed son of the Wind-god may not be far away; and on Bhima coming up at the next moment, the Rakshasa will not live.' O king, staring at the Rakshasa bereft of sense, Sahadeva addressed Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, saying, 'What can be more meritorious for a Kshatriya than to fall in fight, or defeat a foe? O repressor of foes, we will fight and either this one will slay us, or we shall slay him, O mighty-armed one. Verily this is the place and time, O king. And, O thou of unfailing prowess, the time hath come for the display of our Kshatriya virtue. It behoveth us to attain heaven either by gaining victory or being slain. If the sun sets to-day, the Rakshasa living yet, O Bharata, I will not any more say that I am a Kshatriya. Ho! Ho! Rakshasa, say! I am Pandu's son, Sahadeva. Either, after having killed me, carry off this lady, or being slain, lie senseless here.' "Madri's son, Sahadeva, was speaking thus, when Bhimasena made his appearance, with a mace in his hand, like unto Vasava himself wielding the thunder-bolt. And here he saw his two brothers and the noble-minded Draupadi (on the shoulders of the demon), and Sahadeva on the ground rebuking the Rakshasa and also that stupid Rakshasa himself deprived of sense by Fate, going round in different directions through bewilderment caused by Destiny. And finding his brothers and Draupadi being carried off, Bhima of mighty strength was fired with wrath, and addressed the Rakshasa, saying, 'I had ere this found thee out for a wicked wight from thy scrutiny of our weapons; but as I had no apprehension of thee, so I had not slain thee at that time. Thou wert in the disguise of a Brahmana--nor didst thou say anything harsh unto us. And thou didst take delight in pleasing us. And thou also didst not do us wrong. And, furthermore, thou wert our guest. How could I, therefore, slay thee, who wert thus innocent of offence, and who wert in the disguise of a Brahmana? He that knowing such a one to be even a Rakshasa, slayeth him, goes to hell. Further, thou canst not be killed before the time cometh. Surely to-day thou hast reached the fullness of thy time in as much as thy mind hath been thus turned by the wonder-performing Fate towards carrying off Krishna. By committing thyself to this deed, thou hast swallowed up the hook fastened to the line of Fate. So like unto a fish in water, whose mouth hath been hooked, how canst thou live to-day? Thou shall not have to go whither thou intendest to, or whither thou hadst already gone mentally; but thou shall go whither have repaired Vaka and Hidimva.' "Thus addressed by Bhima, the Rakshasa in alarm put them down; and being forced by Fate, approached for fight. And with his lips trembling in anger he spake unto Bhima, saying, 'Wretch! I have not been bewildered; I had been delaying for thee. Today will I offer oblations of thy blood to those Rakshasas who, I had heard, have been slain by thee in fight.' Thus addressed, Bhima, as if bursting with wrath, like unto Yama himself at the time of the universal dissolution, rushed towards the Rakshasa, licking the corners of his mouth and staring at him as he struck his own arms with the hands. And seeing Bhima waiting in expectation of fight, the Rakshasa also darted towards him in anger, like unto Vali towards the wielder of the thunderbolt, repeatedly gaping and licking the corners of his mouth. And when a dreadful wrestling ensued between those two, both the sons of Madri, waxing exceeding wroth rushed forward; but Kunti's son, Vrikodara, forbade them with a smile and said, 'Witness ye! I am more than a match for this Rakshasa. By my own self and by my brothers, and by my merit, and by my good deeds, and by my sacrifices, do I swear that I shall slay this Rakshasa.' And after this was said, those two heroes, the Rakshasa and Vrikodara challenging each other, caught each other by the arms. And they not forgiving each other, then there ensued a conflict between the infuriated Bhima and the Rakshasa, like unto that between a god and a demon. And repeatedly uprooting trees, those two of mighty strength struck each other, shouting and roaring like two masses of clouds. And those foremost of athletes, each wishing to kill the other, and rushing at the other with vehemence, broke down many a gigantic tree by their thighs. Thus that encounter with trees, destructive of plants, went on like unto that between the two brothers Vali and Sugriva--desirous of the possession of a single woman. Brandishing trees for a moment, they struck each other with them, shouting incessantly. And when all the trees of the spot had been pulled down and crushed into fibres by them endeavouring to kill each other, then, O Bharata, those two of mighty strength, taking up rocks, began to fight for a while, like unto a mountain and a mighty mass of clouds. And not suffering each other, they fell to striking each other with hard and large crags, resembling vehement thunder-bolts. Then from strength defying each other, they again darted at each other, and grasping each other by their arms, began to wrestle like unto two elephants. And next they dealt each other fierce blows. And then those two mighty ones began to make chattering sounds by gnashing their teeth. And at length, having clenched his fist like a five-headed snake, Bhima with force dealt a blow on the neck of the Rakshasa. And when struck by that fist of Bhima, the Rakshasa became faint, Bhimasena stood, catching hold of that exhausted one. And then the god-like mighty-armed Bhima lifted him with his two arms, and dashing him with force on the ground, the son of Pandu smashed all his limbs. And striking him with his elbow, he severed from his body the head with bitten lips and rolling eyes, like unto a fruit from its stem. And Jatasura's head being severed by Bhimasena's might, he fell besmeared with gore, and having bitten lips. Having slain Jatasura, Bhima presented himself before Yudhishthira, and the foremost Brahmanas began to eulogise him (Bhima) even as the Marutas (eulogise) Vasava." SECTION CLVII Vaisampayana continued, "On that Rakshasa having been slain, that lord, the royal son of Kunti, returned to the hermitage of Narayana and began to dwell there. And once on a time, remembering his brother Jaya (Arjuna), Yudhishthira summoned all his brothers, together with Draupadi and said these words, 'We have passed these four years peacefully ranging the woods. It hath been appointed by Vibhatsu that about the fifth year he will come to that monarch of mountains, the excellent cliff Sweta, ever graced with festivities held by blooming plants and maddened Kokilas and black bees, and peacocks, and chatakas and inhabited by tigers, and boars and buffaloes, and gavayas, and deer, and ferocious beasts; and sacred; and lovely with blown lotuses of a hundred and a thousand petals, and blooming lilies and blue lilies and frequented by the celestials and the Asuras. And we also, eagerly anxious of meeting him on his arrival have made up our minds to repair thither. Partha of unrivalled prowess hath appointed with me, saying, "I shall remain abroad for five years, with the object of learning military science." In the place like unto the region of the gods, shall we behold the wielder of Gandiva arrive after having obtained the weapons.' Having said this, the Pandava summoned the Brahmanas, and the sons of Pritha having gone round the ascetics of rigid austerities and thereby pleased them, informed them of the matter mentioned above. Thereupon the Brahmanas gave their assent, saying, 'This shall be attended by prosperity and welfare. O foremost of the Bharatas, these troubles shall result in happiness. O pious one, gaining the earth by the Kshatriya virtue, thou shall govern it.' Then in obedience to these words of the ascetics, that represser of foes, Yudhishthira, set out with his brothers and those Brahmanas, followed by the Rakshasa and protected by Lomasa. And that one of mighty energy, and of staunch vows, with his brothers, at places went on foot and at others were carried by the Rakshasas. Then king Yudhishthira, apprehending many troubles, proceeded towards the north abounding in lions and tigers and elephants. And beholding on the way the mountain Mainaka and the base of the Gandhamadana and that rocky mass Sweta and many a crystal rivulet higher and higher up the mountain, he reached on the seventeenth day the sacred slopes of the Himalayas. And, O king, not far from the Gandhamadana, Pandu's son beheld on the sacred slopes of the Himavan covered with various trees and creepers the holy hermitage of Vrishaparva surrounded by blossoming trees growing near the cascades. And when those repressers of foes, the sons of Pandu, had recovered from fatigue, they went to the royal sage, the pious Vrishaparva and greeted him. And that royal sage received with affection those foremost of Bharatas, even as his own sons. And those repressers of foes passed there seven nights, duly regarded. And when the eighth day came, taking the permission of that sage celebrated over the worlds, they prepared to start on their journey. And having one by one introduced unto Vrishapava those Brahmanas, who, duly honoured, remained in his charge as friends; and having also entrusted the highsouled Vrishaparva with their remaining robes, the sons of Pandu, O king, left in the hermitage of Vrishaparva their sacrificial vessels together with their ornaments and jewels. And wise and pious and versed in every duty and having a knowledge of the past as well as the future, that one gave instructions unto those best of the Bharatas, as unto his own sons. Then taking his permission those high-souled ones set out towards the north. And as they set out the magnanimous Vrishaparva followed them to a certain distance. Then having entrusted the Pandavas unto the care of the Brahmanas and instructed and blessed them and given directions concerning their course, Vrishaparva of mighty energy retraced his steps. "Then Kunti's son, Yudhishthira of unfailing prowess, together with his brothers, began to proceed on foot along the mountain path, inhabited by various kinds of beasts. And having dwelt at the mountain slopes, densely overgrown with trees, Pandu's son on the fourth day reached the Sweta mountain, like unto a mighty mass of clouds, abounding in streams and consisting of a mass of gold and gems. And taking the way directed by Vrishaparva, they reached one by one the intended places, beholding various mountains. And over and over they passed with ease many inaccessible rocks and exceedingly impassable caves of the mountain. And Dhaumya and Krishna and the Parthas and the mighty sage Lomasa went on in a body and none grew tired. And those highly fortunate ones arrived at the sacred and mighty mountain resounding with the cries of birds and beasts and covered with various trees and creepers and inhabited by monkeys, and romantic and furnished with many lotus-lakes and having marshes and extensive forests. And then with their down standing erect, they saw the mountain Gandhamadana, the abode of Kimpurushas, frequented by Siddhas and Charanas and ranged by Vidyadharis and Kinnaris and inhabited by herds of elephants and thronged with lions and tigers and resounding with the roars of Sarabhas and attended by various beasts. And the war-like sons of Pandu gradually entered into the forest of the Gandhamadana, like unto the Nandana gardens, delightful to the mind and heart and worthy of being inhabited and having beautiful groves. And as those heroes entered with Draupadi and the high-souled Brahmanas, they heard notes uttered by the mouths of birds, exceedingly sweet and graceful to the ear and causing delight and dulcet and broken by reason of excess of animal spirits. And they saw various trees bending under the weight of fruits in all seasons, and ever bright with flowers--such as mangoes and hog-plums and bhavyas and pomegranates, citrons and jacks and lakuchas and plantains and aquatic reeds and parvatas and champakas and lovely kadamvas and vilwas, wood-apples and rose-apples and kasmaris and jujubes and figs and glomerous figs and banians and aswatthas and khirikas and bhall atakas and amalkas and bibhitakas and ingudas and karamardas and tindukas of large fruits--these and many others on the slopes of the Gandhamadana, clustered with sweet and nectarine fruits. And besides these, they beheld champakas and asokas and ketakas and vakulas and punnagas and saptaparnas and karnikaras, and patals, and beautiful kutajas and mandaras, and lotuses, and parijatas, and kovidaras and devadarus, and salas, and palmyra palms, and tamalas, and pippalas, and salmalis and kinsukas, and singsapas, and saralas and these were inhabited by Chakoras, and wood-peckers and chatakas, and various other birds, singing in sweet tones pleasing to the ear. And they saw lakes beautiful on all sides with aquatic birds, and covered all around with kumudas, and pundarikas, and kokanadas, and utpalas, and kalharas, and kamalas and thronged on all sides with drakes and ruddy geese, and ospreys, and gulls and karandavas, and plavas, and swans, and cranes, and shags, and other aquatic birds. And those foremost of men saw those lotus-lakes beautified with assemblages of lotuses, and ringing with the sweet hum of bees, glad, and drowsy on account of having drunk the intoxicating honey of lotuses, and reddened with the farina falling from the lotus cups. And in the groves they beheld with their hens peacocks maddened with desire caused by the notes of cloud-trumpets; and those woods-loving glad peacocks drowsy with desire, were dancing, spreading in dalliance their gorgeous tails, and were crying in melodious notes. And some of the peacocks were sporting with their mates on kutaja trees covered with creepers. And some sat on the boughs of the kutajas, spreading their gorgeous tails, and looking like crowns worn by the trees. And in the glades they beheld the graceful sindhuvaras like unto the darts of Cupid. And on the summits of the mountain, they saw blooming karnikaras bearing blossoms of a golden hue, appearing like ear-rings of excellent make. And in the forest they saw blossoming kuruvakas, like unto the shafts of Cupid, which smiteth one with desire and maketh him uneasy. And they saw tilakas appearing like unto beauty-spots painted on the forehead of the forest. And they saw mango trees graced with blossoms hummed over by black bees, and serving the purpose of Cupid's shafts. And on the slopes of the mountain there were diverse blossoming trees, looking lovely, some bearing flowers of a golden hue, and some, of the hue of the forest-conflagration, and some, red and some sable, and some green like unto lapises. And besides these, there were ranges of salas and tamalas and patalas and vakula trees, like unto garlands put on by the summits of the mountain. Thus gradually beholding on the slopes of the mountain many lakes, looking transparent like crystal, and having swans of white plumage and resounding with cries of cranes, and filled with lotuses and lilies, and furnished with waters of delicious feel; and also beholding fragrant flowers, and luscious fruits, and romantic lakes, and captivating trees, the Pandavas penetrated into the forest with eyes expanded with wonder. And (as they proceeded) they were fanned by the breeze of balmy feel, and perfumed by kamalas and utpalas and kalharas and pundarikas. Then Yudhishthira pleasantly spake unto Bhima saying, 'Ah! O Bhima, beautiful is this forest of the Gandhamadana. In this romantic forest there are various heavenly blossoming wild trees and creepers, bedecked with foliage and fruit, nor are there any trees that do not flower. On these slopes of the Gandhamadana, all the trees are of sleek foliage and fruit. And behold how these lotus-lakes with fullblown lotuses, and ringing with the hum of black bees, are being agitated by elephants with their mates. Behold another lotus-lake girt with lines of lotuses, like unto a second Sree in an embodied form wearing garlands. And in this excellent forest there are beautiful ranges of woods, rich with the aroma of various blossoms, and hummed over by the black bees. And, O Bhima, behold on all sides the excellent sporting ground of the celestials. By coming here, we have attained extra-human state, and been blessed. O Partha, on these slopes of the Gandhamadana, yon beautiful blossoming trees, being embraced by creepers with blossoms at their tops, look lovely. And, O Bhima, hark unto the notes of the peacocks crying with their hens on the mountain slopes. And birds such as chakoras, and satapatras, and maddened kokilas, and parrots, are alighting on these excellent flowering trees. And sitting on the twigs, myriads of jivajivakas of scarlet, yellow and red hues, are looking at one another. And the cranes are seen near the spots covered with green and reddish grass, and also by the side of the cascades. And those birds, bhringarajas, and upachakras, and herons are pouring forth their notes charming to all creatures. And, lo! with their mates, these elephants furnished with four tusks, and white as lotuses, are agitating that large lake of the hue of lapises. And from many cascades, torrents high as several palmyra palms (placed one upon another) are rushing down from the cliffs. And many argent minerals splendid, and of the effulgence of the sun, and like unto autumnal clouds, are beautifying this mighty mountain. And in some places there are minerals of the hue of the collyrium, and in some those like unto gold, in some, yellow orpiment and in some, vermilion, and in some, caves of red arsenic like unto the evening clouds and in some, red chalk of the hue of the rabbit, and in some, minerals like unto white and sable clouds; and in some, those effulgent as the rising sun, these minerals of great lustre beautify the mountain. O Partha, as was said by Vrishaparva, the Gandharvas and the Kimpurushas, in company with their loves, are visible on the summits of the mountain. And, O Bhima, there are heard various songs of appropriate measures, and also Vedic hymns, charming to all creatures. Do thou behold the sacred and graceful celestial river Mahaganga, with swans, resorted to by sages and Kinnaras. And, O represser of foes, see this mountain having minerals, rivulets, and beautiful woods and beasts, and snakes of diverse shapes and a hundred heads and Kinnaras, Gandharvas and Apsaras.'" Vaisampayana said, "Having attained excellent state, those valiant and warlike repressers of foes with Draupadi and the high-souled Brahmanas were exceedingly delighted at heart, and they were not satiated by beholding that monarch of mountains. Thereafter they saw the hermitage of the royal sage Arshtishena, furnished with flowers and trees bearing fruits. Then they went to Arshtishena versed in all duties of rigid austerities, skeleton-like, and having muscles bare." SECTION CLVIII Vaisampayana continued, "Having approached that one, whose sins had been consumed by asceticism, Yudhishthira announced his name, and gladly greeted him, bending his head. And then Krishna, and Bhima, and the devout twins, having bowed down their heads unto the royal sage, stood (there) surrounding him. And that priest of the Pandavas, the virtuous Dhaumya, also duly approached that vow-observing sage. And by his prophetic eye that virtuous Muni had already known (the identity of) those foremost of the Kurus, the sons of Pandu. And he said unto them. 'Be ye seated.' And that one of rigid austerities, after having duly received that chief of the Kurus, when the latter with his brothers had seated himself enquired after his welfare saying, 'Dost thou not turn thy inclination upon untruth? And art thou intent upon virtue? And, O Partha, hath not thy attention to thy father and thy mother diminished? Are all thy superiors, and the aged, and those versed in the Vedas, honoured by thee? And O Pritha's son, dost thou not turn thy inclination unto sinful acts? And dost thou, O best of the Kurus, properly know how to perform meritorious acts, and to eschew wicked deeds? Dost thou not exalt thyself? And are pious men gratified, being honoured by thee? And even dwelling in the woods, dost thou follow virtue alone? And, O Partha, doth not Dhaumya grieve at thy conduct? Dost thou follow the customs of thy ancestors, by charity, and religious observances, and asceticism, and purity, and candour, and forgiveness? And dost thou go along the way taken by the royal sages? On the birth of a son in their (respective) lines, the _Pitris_ in their regions, both laugh and grieve, thinking--Will the sinful acts of this son of ours harm us, or will meritorious deeds conduce to our welfare? He conquereth both the worlds that payeth homage unto his father, and mother, and preceptor, and Agni, and fifthly, the soul.' Yudhishthira said, 'O worshipful one, those duties have been mentioned by thee as excellent. To the best of my power I duly and properly discharge them.' "Arshtishena said, 'During the Parvas sages subsisting on air and water come unto this best of the mountains ranging through the air. And on the summits of the mountain are seen amorous Kimpurushas with their paramours, mutually attached unto each other; as also, O Partha, many Gandharvas and Apsaras clad in white silk vestments; and lovely-looking Vidyadharas, wearing garlands; and mighty Nagas, and Suparnas, and Uragas, and others. And on the summits of the mountain are heard, during the Parvas, sounds of kettle-drums, and tabors, shells and mridangas. O foremost of the Bharatas, even by staying here, ye shall hear those sounds; do ye by no means feel inclined to repair thither. Further, O best of the Bharata race, it is impossible, to proceed beyond this. That place is the sporting-region of the celestials. There is no access thither for mortals. O Bharata, at this place all creatures bear ill-will to, and the Rakshasas chastise, that man who committeth aggression, be it ever so little. Beyond the summit of this Kailasa cliff, is seen the path of the celestial sages. If any one through impudence goeth beyond this, the Rakshasas slay him with iron darts and other weapons. There, O child, during the Parvas, he that goeth about on the shoulders of men, even Vaisravana is seen in pomp and grandeur surrounded by the Apsaras. And when that lord of all the Rakshasas is seated on the summit, all creatures behold him like unto the sun arisen. O best of Bharatas, that summit is the sporting-garden of the celestials, and the Danavas, and the Siddhas, and Vaisravana. And during the Parvas, as Tumburu entertaineth the Lord of treasures, the sweet notes of his song are heard all over the Gandhamadana. O child, O Yudhishthira, here during the Parvas, all creatures see and hear marvels like this. O Pandavas, till ye meet with Arjuna, do ye stay here, partaking of luscious fruits, and the food of the Munis. O child as thou hast come hither, do thou not betray any impertinence. And, O child, after living here at thy will and diverting thyself as thou listest, thou wilt at length rule the earth, having conquered it by the force of thy arms.'" SECTION CLIX Janamejaya said, "How long did my great grandsires, the highsouled sons of Pandu of matchless prowess, dwell in the Gandhamadana mountain? And what did those exceedingly powerful ones, gifted with manliness, do? And what was the food of those high-souled ones, when those heroes of the worlds dwelt (there)? O excellent one, do thou relate all about this. Do thou describe the prowess of Bhimasena, and what that mighty-armed one did in the mountain Himalayan. Surely, O best of Brahmanas, he did not fight again with the Yakshas. And did they meet with Vaisravana? Surely, as Arshtishena said, the lord of wealth cometh thither. All this, O thou of ascetic wealth, I desire to hear in detail. Surely, I have not yet been fully satisfied by hearing about their acts." Vaisampayana continued, "Having heard from that one of incomparable energy, (Arshtishena), that advice conducive to their welfare, those foremost of the Bharatas, began to behave always accordingly. Those best of men, the Pandavas, dwelt upon the Himavan, partaking of the food eaten by the Munis, and luscious fruit, and the flesh of deer killed with unpoisoned shafts and various kinds of pure honey. Living thus, they passed the fifth year, hearing various stories told by Lomasa. O lord, saying, 'I shall be present when occasion ariseth,' Ghatotkacha, together with all the Rakshasas, had ere this already gone away. Those magnanimous ones passed many months in the hermitage of Arshtishena, witnessing many marvels. And as the Pandavas were sporting there pleasantly, there came to see them some complacent vow-observing Munis and Charanas of high fortune, and pure souls. And those foremost of the Bharata race conversed with them on earthly topics. And it came to pass that when several days has passed, Suparna all of a sudden carried off an exceedingly powerful and mighty Naga, living in the large lake. And thereupon that mighty mountain began to tremble, and the gigantic trees, break. And all the creatures and the Pandavas witnessed the wonder. Then from the brow of that excellent mountain, the wind brought before the Pandavas various fragrant and fair blossoms. And the Pandavas, and the illustrious Krishna, together with their friends, saw those unearthly blossoms of five hues. And as the mighty-armed Bhimasena was seated at ease upon the mountain, Krishna addressed him, saying, 'O best of the Bharata race, in the presence of all the creatures, these flowers of five hues, carried by the force of the wind raised by Suparna, are falling in amain on the river Aswaratha. In Khandava thy high-souled brother, firm in promise, had baffled Gandharvas and Nagas and Vasava himself, and slain fierce Rakshasas, and also obtained the bow Gandiva. Thou also art of exceeding prowess and the might of thy arms is great, and irrepressible, and unbearable like unto the might of Sakra. O Bhimasena, terrified with the force of thy arms, let all the Rakshasas betake themselves to the ten cardinal points, leaving the mountain. Then will thy friends be freed from fear and affliction, and behold the auspicious summit of this excellent mountain furnished with variegated flowers. O Bhima, I have for long cherished this thought in my mind,--that protected by the might of thy arms, I shall see that summit.' "Thereupon, like a high-mettled bull that hath been struck, Bhimasena, considering himself as censured by Draupadi, could not bear (that). And that Pandava of the gait of a lion or a bull, and graceful, and generous, and having the splendour of gold, and intelligent, and strong, and proud, and sensitive, and heroic, and having red eyes, and broad shoulders, and gifted with the strength of mad elephants, and having leonine teeth and a broad neck, and tall like a young sala tree, and highsouled, and graceful in every limb, and of neck having the whorls of a shell and mighty-armed, took up his bow plaited at the back with gold, and also his sword. And haughty like unto a lion, and resembling a maddened elephant, that strong one rushed towards that cliff, free from fear or affliction. And all the creatures saw him equipped with bows and arrows, approaching like a lion or a maddened elephant. And free from fear or affliction, the Pandava taking his mace, proceeded to that monarch of mountains causing the delight of Draupadi. And neither exhaustion, nor fatigue, nor lassitude, nor the malice (of others), affected that son of Pritha and the Wind-god. And having arrived at a rugged path affording passage to one individual only, that one of great strength ascended that terrible summit high as several palmyra palms (placed one upon another). And having ascended that summit, and thereby gladdened Kinnaras, and great Nagas, and Munis, and Gandharvas, and Rakshasas, that foremost of the Bharata line, gifted with exceeding strength described the abode of Vaisravana, adorned with golden crystal palaces surrounded on all sides by golden walls having the splendour of all gems, furnished with gardens all around, higher than a mountain peak, beautiful with ramparts and towers, and adorned with door-ways and gates and rows of pennons. And the abode was graced with dallying damsels dancing around, and also with pennons waved by the breeze. And with bent arms, supporting himself on the end of his bow, he stood beholding with eagerness the city of the lord of treasures. And gladdening all creatures, there was blowing a breeze, carrying all perfumes, and of a balmy feel. And there were various beautiful and wonderful trees of diverse hues resounding with diverse dulcet notes. And at that place the foremost of the Bharatas surveyed the palace of the Lord of the Rakshasas scattered with heaps of gems, and adorned with variegated garlands. And renouncing all care of life the mighty-armed Bhimasena stood motionless like a rock, with his mace and sword and bow in his hands. Then he blew his shell making the down of his adversaries stand erect; and twanging his bow-string, and striking his arms with the hands he unnerved all the creatures. Thereat with their hairs standing erect, the Yakshas and Rakshasas began to rush towards the Pandavas, in the direction of those sounds. And taken by the arms of the Yakshas and Rakshasas the flamed maces and clubs and swords and spears and javelins and axes, and when, O Bharata, the fight ensued between the Rakshasas and Bhima, the latter by arrows cut off the darts, javelins and axes of those possessing great powers of illusion, and he of exceeding strength with arrows pierced the bodies of the roaring Rakshasas, both of those that were in the sky, and of those that remained on the earth. And Bhima of exceeding strength was deluged with the mighty sanguine rain sprung from the bodies of the Rakshasas with maces and clubs in their hands and flowing on all sides from their persons. And the bodies and hands of the Yakshas and Rakshasas were seen to be struck off by the weapon discharged by the might of Bhima's arms. And then all the creatures saw the graceful Pandava densely surrounded by the Rakshasas, like unto the Sun enveloped by clouds. And even as the Sun surrounds everything with his rays, that mighty-armed and strong one of unfailing prowess, covered all with arrows destroying foes. And although menacing and uttering yells, the Rakshasas did not see Bhima embarrassed. Thereupon, with their bodies mangled, the Yakshas afflicted by fear of Bhimasena began to utter frightful sounds of distress, throwing their mighty weapons. And terrified at the wielder of a strong bow, they fled towards the southern quarter, forsaking their maces and spears and swords and clubs and axes. And then there stood, holding in his hands darts and maces, the broad-chested and mighty-armed friend of Vaisravana, the Rakshasa named Maniman. And that one of great strength began to display his mastery and manliness. And seeing them forsake the fight, he addressed them with a smile, 'Going to Vaisravana's abode, how will ye say unto that lord of wealth, that numbers have been defeated by a single mortal in battle?' Having said this unto them that Rakshasa, taking in his hands clubs and javelins and maces, set out and rushed towards the Pandava. And he rushed in amain like a maddened elephant. Bhimasena pierced his sides with three choice arrows. And the mighty Maniman, on his part, in wrath taking and flourishing a tremendous mace hurled it at Bhimasena. Thereupon Bhimasena beset with innumerable shafts sharpened on stones, hurled that mighty mace in the sky, dreadful, and like unto the lightning flash. But on reaching the mace those shafts were baffled; and although discharged with force by that adept at hurling the mace, still they could not stay its career. Then the mighty Bhima of dreadful prowess, baffled his (the Rakshasa's) discharge by resorting to his skill in mace-fighting. In the meanwhile, the intelligent Rakshasa had discharged a terrible iron club, furnished with a golden shaft. And that club, belching forth flames and emitting tremendous roars, all of a sudden pierced Bhima's right arm and then fell to the ground. On being severely wounded by that club, that bowman, Kunti's son, of immeasurable prowess, with eyes rolling in ire, took up his mace. And having taken that iron mace, inlaid with golden plates, which caused the fear of foes and brought on their defeat, he darted it with speed towards the mighty Maniman, menacing (him) and uttering shouts. Then Maniman on his part, taking his huge and blazing dart, with great force discharged it at Bhima, uttering loud shouts. Thereat breaking the dart with the end of his mace, that mighty-armed one skilled in mace-fighting, speedily rushed to slay him, as Garuda (rushed) to slay a serpent. Then all of a sudden, advancing ahead in the field, that mighty-armed one sprang into the sky and brandishing his mace hurled it with shouts. And like unto the thunder-bolt hurled by Indra, that mace like a pest, with the speed of the wind destroyed the Rakshasa and then fell to the ground. Then all the creatures saw that Rakshasa of terrible strength slaughtered by Bhima, even like a bull slain by a lion. And the surviving Rakshasas seeing him slain on the ground went towards the east, uttering frightful sounds of distress." SECTION CLX Vaisampayana said, "Hearing various sounds resounding in the caves of the mountain and not seeing Bhimasena, Kunti's son, Ajatasatru and the twin sons of Madri and Dhaumya and Krishna and all the Brahmanas and the friends (of the Pandavas), were filled with anxiety. Thereupon, entrusting Draupadi to the charge of Arshtishena and equipped in their arms, those valiant and mighty charioteers together began to ascend the summit of the mountain. And having reached the summit, as those repressors of foes and mighty bowmen and powerful charioteers they were looking about, saw Bhima and those huge Rakshasas of mighty strength and courage weltering in a state of unconsciousness having been struck down by Bhima. And holding his mace and sword and bow, that mighty-armed one looked like Maghavan, after he had slain the Danava hosts. Then on seeing their brother, the Pandavas, who had attained excellent state, embraced him and sat down there. And with those mighty bowmen, that summit looked grand like heaven graced by those foremost of celestials, the highly fortunate Lokapalas. And seeing the abode of Kuvera and the Rakshasas, lying slain on the ground, the king addressed his brother who was seated, saying, 'Either it be through rashness, or through ignorance, thou hast, O Bhima, committed a sinful act. O hero, as thou art leading the life of an anchorite, this slaughter without cause is unlike thee. Acts, it is asserted by those versed in duties, as are calculated to displease a monarch, ought not to be committed. But thou hast, O Bhimasena, committed a deed which will offend even the gods. He that disregarding profit and duty, turneth his thoughts to sin must, O Partha, reap the fruit of his sinful actions. However, if thou seekest my good, never again commit such a deed.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this to his brother, Vrikodara the virtuous, the highly energetic and firm-minded son of Kunti, Yudhishthira versed in the particulars of (the science of) profit, ceased, and began to reflect on that matter. "On the other hand, the Rakshasas that had survived those slain by Bhima fled in a body towards the abode of Kuvera. And they of exceeding fleetness having speedily reached Vaisravana's abode, began to utter loud cries of distress, being afflicted with the fear of Bhima. And, O king bereft of their weapons and exhausted and with their mail besmeared with gore and with dishevelled hair they spake unto Kuvera, saying. 'O lord, all thy foremost Rakshasas fighting with maces and clubs and swords and lances and barbed darts, have been slain. O lord of treasures, a mortal, trespassing into the mountain, hath, singlehanded, slaughtered all thy Krodhavasa Rakshasas assembled together. And, O lord of wealth, there lie the foremost of the Yakshas and Rakshasas senseless and dead, having been struck down; and we have been let off through his favour. And thy friend, Maniman also hath been slain. All this hath been done by a mortal. Do thou what is proper, after this.' Having heard this, that lord of all the Yaksha hosts waxing wroth, with eyes reddened in anger, exclaimed, 'What!' And hearing of Bhima's second (act of) aggression, that lord of treasures, the king of the Yakshas, was filled with wrath, and said, 'Yoke' (the horses). Thereat unto a car of the hue of dark clouds, and high as a mountain summit, they yoked steeds having golden garments. And on being yoked unto the car, those excellent horses of his, graced with every noble quality and furnished with the ten auspicious curls of hair and having energy and strength, and adorned with various gems and looking splendid, as if desirous of speeding like the wind, began to neigh at each other the neighing emitted at (the hour of) victory. And that divine and effulgent king of the Yakshas set out, being eulogised by the celestials and Gandharvas. And a thousand foremost Yakshas of reddened eyes and golden lustre and having huge bodies, and gifted with great strength, equipped with weapons and girding on their swords, followed that high-souled lord of treasures. And coursing through the firmament they (the steeds) arrived at the Gandhamadana, as if drawing forward the sky with their fleetness. And with their down standing erect, the Pandavas saw that large assemblage of horses maintained by the lord of wealth and also the highsouled and graceful Kuvera himself surrounded by the Yaksha hosts. And seeing those mighty charioteers the son of Pandu, possessed of great strength, equipped with bows and swords, Kuvera also was delighted; and he was pleased at heart, keeping in view the task of the celestials. And like unto birds, they, (the Yakshas) gifted with extreme celerity, alighted on the summit of the mountain and stood before them (the Pandavas), with the lord of treasures at their head. Then, O Bharata, seeing him pleased with the Pandavas, the Yakshas and the Gandharvas stood there, free from agitation. Then thinking themselves as having transgressed, those high-souled and mighty charioteers, the Pandavas, having bowed down unto that lord, the giver of wealth stood surrounding the lord of treasures with joined hands. And the lord of treasures sat on that excellent seat, the elegant Pushpaka, constructed by Viswakarma, painted with diverse colours. And thousands of Yakshas and Rakshasas, some having huge frames and some ears resembling pegs, and hundreds of Gandharvas and hosts of Apsaras sat in the presence of that one seated, even as the celestials sit surrounding him of a hundred sacrifices and wearing a beautiful golden garland on his head and holding in his hands his noose and sword and bow, Bhima stood, gazing at the lord of wealth. And Bhimasena did not feel depressed either on having been wounded by the Rakshasas, or even in that plight seeing Kuvera arrive. "And that one going about on the shoulders of men, on seeing Bhima stand desirous of fighting with sharpened shafts, said unto Dharma's son, 'O Partha, all the creatures know thee as engaged in their good. Do thou, therefore, with thy brothers fearlessly dwell on this summit of the mountain. And, O Pandava, be thou not angry with Bhima. These Yakshas and Rakshasas had already been slain by Destiny: thy brother hath been the instrument merely. And it is not necessary to feel shame for the act of impudence that hath been committed. This destruction of the Rakshasas had been foreseen by the gods. I entertain no anger towards Bhimasena. Rather, O foremost of the Bharata race, I am pleased with him; nay,--even before coming here, I had been gratified with this deed of Bhima.'" Vaisampayana said, "Having spoken thus unto the king, (Kuvera) said unto Bhimasena, 'O child, O best of the Kurus, I do not mind this, O Bhima, as in order to please Krishna, thou hast, disregarding the gods and me also, committed this rash act, namely, the destruction of the Yakshas and the Rakshasas, depending on the strength of thy arms, I am well-pleased with thee. O Vrikodara, to-day I have been freed from a terrible curse. For some offence, that great Rishi, Agastya, had cursed me in anger. Thou hast delivered me by this act (of thine). O Pandu's son, my disgrace had ere this been fated. No offence, therefore, in any way, attaches unto thee, O Pandava.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O divine one, why wast thou cursed by the high-souled Agastya? O god, I am curious to hear about the occasion of that imprecation. I wonder that at that very moment, thou together with thy forces and attendants wast not consumed by the ire of that intelligent one.' "Thereupon the lord of treasures said, 'At Kusasthali, O king, once there was held a conclave of the gods. And surrounded by grimvisaged Yakshas, numbering three hundred maha-padmas, carrying various weapons, I was going to that place. And on the way, I saw that foremost of sages, Agastya, engaged in the practice of severe austerities on the bank of the Yamuna, abounding in various birds and graced with blossoming trees. And, O king, immediately on seeing that mass of energy, flaming and brilliant as fire, seated with upraised arms, facing the sun, my friend, the graceful lord of the Rakshasas, Maniman, from stupidity, foolishness, hauteur and ignorance discharged his excrement on the crown of that Maharshi. Thereupon, as if burning all the cardinal points by his wrath, he said unto me, "Since, O lord of treasures, in thy very presence, disregarding me, this thy friend hath thus affronted me, he, together with thy forces, shall meet with destruction at the hands of a mortal. And, O wicked-minded one, thou also, being distressed on account of thy fallen soldiers, shalt be freed from thy sin, on beholding that mortal. But if they follow thy behests, their (the soldier's) powerful sons shall not incur by this dreadful curse." This curse I received formerly from that foremost of Rishis. Now, O mighty king, have I been delivered by thy brother Bhima.'" SECTION CLXI "The lord of treasures said, 'O Yudhishthira, patience, ability, (appropriate) time and place and prowess--these five lead to success in human affairs. O Bharata, in the Krita Yuga, men were patient and able in their respective occupations and they knew how to display prowess. And, O foremost of the Kshatriyas, a Kshatriya that is endued with patience and understandeth the propriety regarding place and time and is versed in all mortal regulations, can alone govern the world for a long time,--nay, in all transactions. He that behaveth thus, acquireth, O hero, fame in this world and excellent state in the next. And by having displayed his prowess at the proper place and time, Sakra with the Vasus hath obtained the dominion of heaven. He that from anger cannot see his fall and he that being naturally wicked and evilminded followeth evil and he that knoweth not the propriety relative to acts, meet with destruction both in this world and the next. The exertions of that stupid person become fruitless, who is not conversant with the expediency regarding time and acts, and he meeteth with destruction both in this world and the next. And the object of that wicked and deceitful persons is vicious, who, aiming at mastery of every kind, committeth some rash act. O best of men, Bhimasena is fearless, and ignorant of duties, and haughty, and of the sense of a child, and unforbearing. Do thou, therefore, check him. Repairing again to the hermitage of the pious sage Arshtishena, do thou reside there during the dark fortnight, without fear or anxiety. O lord of men, deputed by me, all the Gandharvas residing at Alaka, as also those dwelling in this mountain, will, O mighty-armed one, protect thee, and these best of the Brahmanas. And, O king, O chief among virtuous men, knowing that Vrikodara hath come hither out of rashness, do thou check him. Henceforth, O monarch, beings living in the forest will meet you, wait upon you and always protect you all. And, ye foremost of men, my servants will always procure for you various meats and drinks of delicious flavour. And, O son, Yudhishthira, even as by reason of your being the progeny of spiritual intercourse, Jishnu is entitled to the protection of Mahendra, and Vrikodara, of the Wind-god, and thou, of Dharma, and the twins possessed of strength, of the Aswins,--so ye all are entitled to my protection. That one next by birth to Bhimasena, Phalguna, versed in the science of profit and all mortal regulations, is well in heaven. And, O child, those perfections that are recognised in the world as leading to heaven, are established in Dhananjaya even from his very birth. And self-restraint, and charity, and strength, and intelligence, and modesty, and fortitude, and excellent energy--even all these are established in that majestic one of magnificent soul. And, O Pandava, Jishnu never committed any shameful act through poverty of spirit. And in the world, none ever say that Partha hath uttered an untruth. And, O Bharata, honoured by the gods, _pitris_, and the Gandharvas, that enhancer of the glory of the Kurus is learning the science of weapons in Sakra's abode. And, O Partha, in heaven he that with justice had brought under his subjection all the rulers of the earth, even that exceedingly powerful and highly energetic monarch, the grandsire of thy father, Santanu himself, is well-pleased with the behaviour of that wielder of the Gandiva--the foremost of his race. And, O king, abiding in Indra's regions, he who on the banks of the Yamuna had worshipped the gods, the _pitris_, and the Brahmanas, by celebrating seven grand horse sacrifices, that great grandsire of thine, the emperor Santanu of severe austerities, who hath attained heaven, hath enquired of thy welfare.'" Vaisampayana said, "Having heard these words of the dispenser of wealth, the Pandavas were well-pleased with them. Then lowering his club and mace and sword and bow, that foremost of the Bharatas bowed down unto _Kuvera_. And that giver of protection, the lord of treasures, seeing him prostrate, said, 'Be thou the destroyer of the pride of foes, and the enhancer of the delight of friends. And ye oppressors of enemies, do ye live in our romantic region. The _Yakshas_ will not cross your desires. Gudakesa, after having acquired mastery over weapons, will come back soon. Bidden adieu by Maghavat himself, Dhananjaya will join you.' "Having thus instructed Yudhishthira of excellent deeds, the lord of the _Guhyakas_, vanished from that best of mountains. And thousands upon thousands of _Yakshas_, and _Rakshasas_ followed him in vehicles spread over with checkered cushions, and decorated with various jewels. And as the horses proceeded towards the abode of Kuvera, a noise arose as of birds flying in the air. And the chargers of the lord of treasures speedily coursed through the sky as if drawing forward the firmament, and devouring the air. "Then at the command of the lord of wealth, the dead bodies of the _Rakshasas_ were removed from the summit of the mountain. As the intelligent Agastya had fixed this period as the limit of (the duration of) his curse, so being slain in conflict, the _Rakshasas_ were freed from the imprecation. And being honoured by the _Rakshasas_, the Pandavas for several nights dwelt pleasantly in those habitations." SECTION CLXII Vaisampayana continued, "Then, O represser of foes, at sunrise, having finished his daily devotions, _Dhaumya_ came unto the Pandavas, with _Arshtishena_. And having bowed down unto the feet of Arshtishena and Dhaumya, they with joined hands paid homage unto all the Brahmanas. Then Dhaumya taking Yudhishthira's right hand, said these words, looking at the east, 'O mighty monarch, this king of mountains, Mandara lieth vast, covering the earth up to the ocean. O Pandava, Indra and Vaisravana preside over this point graced with woods and forests and mountains. And, O child, the intelligent sages versed in every duty, say, that this (region) is the abode of Indra and king Vaisravana. And the twice-born ones, and the sages versed in the duties, and the _Sidhas_, and the _Sadhyas_, and the celestials pay their adorations unto the Sun as he riseth from this point. And that lord of all living beings, king _Yama_, conversant with duty, presideth over yonder southern region whither come the spirits of the departed. And this is _Sanyamana_, the abode of the lord of departed spirits, sacred, and wonderful to behold, and crowned with prime prosperity. And the intelligent ones call that monarch of mountains (by the name of) Asta. Having, O king, arrived at this, the Sun ever abideth by the truth. And king _Varuna_ protects all creatures, abiding in this king of mountains, and also in the vast deep. And, O highly fortunate one, there illumining the northern regions, lieth the puissant Mahameru, auspicious and the refuge of those knowing _Brahma_, where is the court of _Brahma_, and remaining where that soul of all creatures, _Prajapati_, hath created all that is mobile and immobile. And the _Mahameru_ is the auspicious and healthy abode even of the seven mind-born sons of _Brahma_, of whom _Daksha_ was the seventh. And, O child, here it is that the seven celestial _rishis_ with Vasishtha at their head rise and set. Behold that excellent and bright summit of the Meru, where sitteth the great sire (_Brahma_) with the celestials happy in self-knowledge. And next to the abode of _Brahma_ is visible the region of him who is said to be the really primal Cause or the origin of all creatures, even that prime lord, god Narayana, having neither beginning nor end. And, O king, that auspicious place composed of all energies even the celestials, cannot behold. And the region of the high-souled _Vishnu_, by its native splendour, exceeding in effulgence the sun or fire, cannot be beheld by the gods, or the Danavas. And the region of Narayana lieth resplendent to the east of the _Meru_, where, O child, that lord of all creatures, the self-create primal Cause of the universe, having manifested all beings, looketh splendid of his excellent grace. O child, not to speak of the _Maharshis_-even _Brahmarshis_ have no access to that place. And, O best of the Kurus, it is the _Yatis_ only who have access to it. And, O Pandu's son, (at that place) luminaries cannot shine by him; there that lord of inconceivable soul alone shineth transcendental. There by reverence, and severe austerities, Yatis inspired by virtue of pious practices, attain Narayana Hari. And, O Bharata, repairing thither, and attaining that universal Soul--the self-create and eternal God of gods, high-souled ones, of _Yoga_ success, and free from ignorance and pride have not to return to this world. O highly fortunate Yudhishthira, this region is without beginning, or deterioration, or end for it is the very essence of that God. And, O son of the Kurus, the Sun and the Moon every day go round this Meru, coursing in an opposite direction. And, O sinless one, O mighty monarch, the other luminaries also go round this king of mountains in the self-same way. Thus the worshipful Sun who dispelleth darkness, goeth round this (mountain) obscuring other luminaries. Then having set, and passed the evening, that Maker of day, the Sun, taketh a northerly course. Then again nearing the _Meru_, the divine Sun (ever) intent on the good of all beings, again courseth, facing the east. And in this way, the divine Moon also together with the stars goeth round this mountain, dividing the month unto several sections, by his arrival at the Parvas. Having thus unerringly coursed round the mighty _Meru_, and, nourished all creatures, the Moon again repaireth unto the _Mandar_. In the same way, that destroyer of darkness--the divine Sun--also moveth on this unobstructed path, animating the universe. When, desirous of causing dew, he repaireth to the south, then there ensueth winter to all creatures. Then the Sun, turning back from the south, by his rays draweth up the energy from all creatures both mobile and immobile. Thereupon, men become subject to perspiration, fatigue, drowsiness and lassitude; and living beings always feel disposed to slumber. Thence, returning through unknown regions, that divine effulgent one causeth shower, and thereby reviveth beings. And having, by the comfort caused by the shower, wind, and warmth, cherished the mobile and the immobile, the powerful Sun resumeth his former course. O Partha, ranging thus, the Sun unerringly turneth on the wheel of Time, influencing created things. His course is unceasing; he never resteth, O Pandava. Withdrawing the energy of all beings, he again rendereth it back. O Bharata, dividing time into day and night, and Kala, and Kashiba, that lord, the Sun, dealeth life and motion to all created things.'" SECTION CLXIII Vaisampayana continued, "Dwelling in that best of mountains those high-souled ones observing excellent vows, felt themselves attracted (to that place), and diverted themselves, eager to behold Arjuna. And multitudes of _Gandharvas_ and _Maharshis_ gladly visited those energetic ones, possessing prowess, of chaste desires and being the foremost of those endued with truth and fortitude. And having arrived at that excellent mountain furnished with trees bearing blossoms, those mighty charioteers were exceedingly delighted, even as the _Marutas_, on arriving at the celestial regions. And experiencing great exhilaration, they lived (there), seeing the slopes and summits of that mighty mountain, filled with flowers, and resonant with the cries of peacocks and cranes. And on that beautiful mountain they beheld lakes filled with lotuses, and having their shores covered with trees, and frequented by darkness, and _karandavas_ and swans. And the flourishing sporting-regions, graceful on account of the various flowers, and abounding in gems, was capable of captivating that king, the dispenser of wealth (_Kuvera_). And always ranging (there), those foremost of ascetics (the Pandavas) were incapable of conceiving (the significance of) that Summit, furnished with mighty trees, and masses of wide-spreading clouds. And, O great hero, owing to its native splendour, and also on account of the brilliance of the annual plants, there was no difference there between night and day. And staying in the mountain, remaining in which the Sun of unrivalled energy cherisheth the mobile and immobile things, those heroes and foremost of men beheld the rising and the setting of the Sun. And having seen the rising and the setting points of the Sun and the rising and the setting mountain, and all the cardinal points, as well as the intervening spaces ever blazing with the rays of the Dispeller of darkness, those heroes, in expectation of the arrival of that mighty charioteer firm in truth, became engaged in reciting the _Vedas_, practising the daily rituals, chiefly discharging the religious duties, exercising sacred vows, and abiding by the truth. And saying, 'Let us even here experience delight by joining without delay Arjuna accomplished in arms,' those highly blessed Parthas became engaged in the practice of _Yoga_. And beholding romantic woods on that mountain, as they always thought of _Kiriti_, every day and night appeared unto them even as a year. From that very moment joy had taken leave of them when, with Dhaumya's permission, the high-souled _Jishnu_, matting his hair, departed (for the woods). So, how could they, absorbed in his contemplation, experience happiness there? They had become overwhelmed with grief ever since the moment when at the command of his brother, Yudhishthira, _Jishnu_ of the tread of a mad elephant had departed from the _Kamyaka_ forest. O Bharata, in this way, on that mountain those descendants of Bharata passed a month with difficulty, thinking of him of the white steeds, who had gone to _Vasava's_ abode for learning arms. And Arjuna, having dwelt for five years in the abode of him of a thousand eyes, and having from that lord of celestials obtained all the celestial weapons,--such as those of _Agni_, of _Varuna_, of _Soma_, of _Vayu_, of _Vishnu_, of _Indra_, of _Pasupati_, of _Brahma_, of _Parameshthi_, of _Prajapati_, of _Yama_, of _Dhata_, of _Savita_, of _Tvashta_, and of _Vaisravana_; and having bowed down to and gone round him of a hundred sacrifices, and taken his (Indra's) permission, cheerfully came to the Gandhamadana." SECTION CLXIV Vaisampayana continued, "And it came to pass that one day as those mighty charioteers were thinking of Arjuna, seeing Mahendra's car, yoked with horses of the effulgence of lightning, arrive all on a sudden, they were delighted. And driven by Matali, that blazing car, suddenly illuminating the sky, looked like smokeless flaming tongues of fire, or a mighty meteor embosomed in clouds. And seated in that car appeared _Kiriti_ wearing garlands and new-made ornaments. Then Dhananjaya possessing the prowess of the wielder of the thunder-bolt, alighted on that mountain, blazing in beauty. And that intelligent one decked in a diadem and garlands, having alighted on the mountain, first bowed down at the feet of _Dhaumya_, and then at those of _Ajatasatru_. And he also paid homage unto Vrikodara's feet; and the twins also bowed down unto him. Then going to Krishna, and having cheered her, he stood before his (elder) brother in humble guise. And on meeting with that matchless one, they were exceedingly delighted. And he also meeting with them rejoiced exceedingly, and began to eulogise the king. And seeing before them that car driving in which the slayer of Namuchi had annihilated seven phalanxes of _Diti's_ offspring, the magnanimous Parthas went round it. And being highly pleased, they offered excellent worship unto Matali, as unto the lord of the celestials himself. And then the son of the Kuru king duly enquired of him after the health of all the gods. And Matali also greeted them. And having instructed the Parthas even as a father doth his sons, he ascended that incomparable car, and returned to the lord of the celestials. "And when Matali had gone away, that foremost of the royal race, Sakra's son, the high-souled destroyer of all foes made over unto his love, the mother of _Sutasoma_, beautiful precious gems and ornaments having the splendour of the sun, which had been presented to him by Sakra. Then, sitting in the midst of those foremost of the Kurus, and those best of the _Brahmanas_, effulgent like unto fire or the sun, he began to relate all as it had happened, saying, 'In this way, I have learnt weapons from _Sakra_, _Vayu_, and the manifest _Siva_; and all the celestials with Indra also have been pleased with me, on account of my good behaviour, and concentration.' "After having briefly narrated unto them his sojourn in heaven, _Kiriti_ of spotless deeds agreeably slept that night with the two sons of Madri." SECTION CLXV Vaisampayana said, "Then when the night had been spent, Dhananjaya, together with his brothers, paid homage unto Yudhishthira the just. And, O Bharata, at this moment, proceeding from the celestials there arose mighty and tremendous sounds of a musical instrument, and the rattling of car-wheels, and the tolling of bells. And there at all the beasts and beasts of prey and birds emitted separate cries. And from all sides in cars resplendent as the sun, hosts of _Gandharvas_ and _Apsaras_ began to follow that represser of foes, the lord of the celestials. And ascending a car yoked with steeds, decorated with burnished gold, and roaring like clouds, that king of the celestials, _Purandara_ blazing in beauty came unto the Parthas. And having arrived (at that place), he of a thousand eyes descended from his car. And as soon as Yudhishthira the just saw that high-souled one, he together with his brothers, approached that graceful king of the immortals. And in accordance with the ordinance that generous one duly worshipped him of immeasurable soul, in consequence with his dignity. And then Dhananjaya possessed of prowess, having bowed down unto _Purandara_, stood before the lord of the celestials in humble guise, like unto a servant. And seeing the sinless Dhananjaya having ascetic merit, bearing clotted hair, stand in humility before the lord of celestials, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, of great energy, smelt (the crown) of his head. And beholding _Phalguna_ (in that attitude), he was exceedingly glad; and by worshipping the king of the celestials, he experienced the highest bliss. Then unto that strongminded monarch, swimming in felicity, the intelligent lord of the celestials, Purandara, spake, saying, 'Thou shalt rule the earth, O Pandava. Blessed be thou! Do thou, O Kunti's son, again repair unto Kamyaka.' "That learned man who for a year leading the _Brahmacharya_ mode of life, subduing his senses and observing vows, peruseth with rapt attention this meeting of _Sakra_ with the Pandavas, liveth a hundred years free from disturbances, and enjoying happiness." SECTION CLXVI Vaisampayana continued, "When _Sakra_ had gone to his proper place, _Vibhatsu_ together with his brothers and Krishna, paid homage unto the son of Dharma. Then smelling the crown of the head of that Pandava, who was thus paying homage, (Yudhishthira) in accents faltering on account of joy, addressed Arjuna, saying, 'O Arjuna, how didst thou pass this period in heaven? And how has thou obtained the weapons, and how also hast thou gratified the lord of the celestials? And, O Pandava, has thou adequately secured the weapons? Have the lord of the celestials and _Rudra_ gladly granted thee the weapons? And how hast thou beheld the divine _Sakra_, and the wielder of _Pinaka_? And how has thou obtained the weapons? And in what manner didst thou worship (them)? And what service hadst thou done unto that repressor of foes, the worshipful one of a hundred sacrifices, that he said unto thee, "By thee have I been gratified?" All this, O highly effulgent one, I wish to hear in detail. And, O sinless one, the manner in which thou didst please Mahadeva and the king of the celestials and, O repressor of foes, the service thou hadst done to the wielder of the thunder-bolt,--do thou, O Dhananjaya, relate all this in detail.' "Arjuna said, 'O mighty monarch, listen how I duly beheld him of a hundred sacrifice and the divine _Sankara_ also. O grinder of foes, O king, having acquired that science which thou hadst directed me (to learn), I at thy command went to the forest, for practising penances. From _Kamyaka_ repairing to the _Bhrigutunga_, I spent there one night, being engaged in austerities. And it came to pass that on the next I saw a certain _Brahmana_. And he asked me, saying, "O son of Kunti, whither wilt thou go?" Thereupon, O descendant of the Kurus, I truly related unto him everything. And, O best of kings, having heard the true account, the _Brahmana_ became well-pleased with me, and, O king, praised me. Then the _Brahmana_, pleased with me, said, "O Bharata, be thou engaged in austerities. By performing penances, thou wilt in a short time behold the lord of the celestials." And according to his advice I ascended the _Himavan_, and, O mighty king, began to practise penances, (the first) month subsisting on fruit and roots. I spent the second month, subsisting on water. And, O Pandava, in the third month I totally abstained from food. And in the fourth month I remained with upraised arms. And a wonder it is that I did not lose any strength. And it came to pass that when the first day of the fifth month had been spent, there appeared before me a being wearing the form of a boar, turning up the earth with his mouth, stamping the ground with his feet, rubbing the earth with his breast, and momentarily going about in a frightful manner. And him followed a great being in the guise of a hunter furnished with the bow, arrows, and the sword, and surrounded by females. Thereupon, taking my bow and the two inexhaustible quivers, I pierced with shafts that terrible and frightful creature. And simultaneously (with me) that hunter also drawing a strong bow, more severely struck at (the animal), as if shaking my mind. And, O king, he also said unto me, "Why hast thou, transgressing the rules of hunting, hit the animal first hit at by me? With these sharpened shafts will I destroy thy pride. Stay!" Then that mighty-bodied one holding the bow rushed at me. And with volleys of mighty shafts, he covered me entirely, even as a cloud covereth a mountain with showers. Then, on my part, I covered him with a mighty discharge of arrows. Thereupon, with steady arrows having their points aflame, and inspired with _mantras_, I pierced him even as (Indra) riveth a mountain with a thunderbolt. Then his person began to be multiplied a hundredfold and a thousandfold. At this, I pierced all his bodies with shafts. Then again all those forms became one, O Bharata. Thereat I struck at it. Next, he now assumed a small body with a huge head, and now a huge body with a small head. And, O king, he then assumed his former person and approached me for fight. And, O foremost of the Bharata race, when in the encounter I failed to overwhelm him with arrows, I fixed the mighty weapon of the Wind-god. But I failed to discharge it at him, and this was a wonder. And when that weapon thus failed of effect, I was struck with amazement. However, O king, exerting myself more vigorously, I again covered that being with a mighty multitude of shafts. Then taking _Sthuna-karna_, and _Varuna_ and _Salava_, and _Asmavarsha_ weapons, I assailed him, profusely showering shafts. But, O king, he instantly swallowed up even all these weapons of mine. And when all those (weapons) had been swallowed up, I discharged the weapon presided over by Brahma. And when the blazing arrows issuing from that weapon were heaped upon him all around, and being thus heaped over by that mighty weapon discharged by me, he increased (in bulk). Then all the world became oppressed with the energy begotten of the weapon hurled by me, and the firmament and all the points of the sky became illumined. But that one of mighty energy instantly baffled even that weapon. And, O monarch, when that weapon presided over by _Brahma_ had been baffled I was possessed with terrible fear. Thereupon immediately holding even my bow and the two inexhaustible quivers, I shot at that being, but he swallowed up all those weapons. And when all the weapons had been baffled and swallowed up, there ensued a wrestling between him and myself. And we encountered each other first with blows and then with slaps. But incapable of overcoming that being, I fell down stupefied on the ground. Thereupon, O mighty king, with a laugh, that wonderful being at my sight vanished at that spot together with the women. Having accomplished this, O illustrious monarch, that divine one assumed another and unearthly form (clad in) wonderful raiment. And renouncing the form of a hunter, that divine lord of the gods, resumed his own unearthly appearance and that mighty god stood (there). Then appeared before me with _Uma_ that manifest divine one, having the bull for his mark, wielding the _Pinaka_, bearing serpents and capable of assuming many forms. And, O repressor of foes, advancing towards me, standing even then in the field ready for conflict, that wielder of the trident addressed me saying, "I am well-pleased with thee." Then that divine one held up my bows and the couple of quivers furnished with inexhaustible shafts and returned them unto me saying, "Do thou ask some boon, O Kunti's son. I am well-pleased with thee. Tell me, what I shall do for thee. And, O hero, express the desire that dwelleth in thy heart. I will grant it. Except immortality alone, tell me as to the desire that is in thy heart." Thereat with my mind intent on the acquisition of arms, I only bowed down unto Siva and said, "O divine one, if thou beest favourably disposed towards me, then I wish to have this boon,--I wish to learn all the weapons that are with thy god-head." Then the god _Tryamvaka_ said unto me, "I will give. O Pandava, my own weapon _Raudra_ shall attend upon thee." Thereupon _Mahadeva_, well-pleased, granted to me the mighty weapon, _Pasupata_. And, having granted that eternal weapon, he also said unto me, "This must never be hurled at mortals. If discharged at any person of small energy, it would consume the universe. Shouldst thou (at any time) be hard pressed, thou mayst discharge it. And when all thy weapons have been completely baffled, thou mayst hurl it." Then when he having the bull for his mark, had been thus gratified, there stood manifest by my side that celestial weapon, of resistless force capable of baffling all weapons and destructive of foes and the hewer of hostile forces and unrivalled and difficult to be borne even by the celestials, the demons and the _Rakshasas_. Then at the command of that god, I sat me down there. And in my very sight the god vanished from the spot.'" SECTION CLXVII "Arjuna said, 'O Bharata, by the grace of that god of gods the Supreme Soul, _Tryamvaka_, I passed the night at that place. And having passed the night, when I had finished the morning rituals, I saw that foremost of the _Brahmanas_ whom I had seen before. And unto him I told all as it had happened, O Bharata, namely, that I had met the divine _Mahadeva_. Thereupon, O king of kings, well-pleased, he said unto me, "Since thou hast beheld the great god, incapable of being beheld by any one else, soon wilt thou mix with _Vaivaswata_ and the other _Lokapalas_ and the lord of the celestials; and Indra too will grant thee weapons." O king, having said this unto me and having embraced me again and again, that _Brahmana_ resembling the Sun, went away whither he listed. And, O slayer of foes, it came to pass that on the evening of that day refreshing the whole world, there began to blow a pure breeze. And in my vicinity on the base of the _Himalaya_ mountain fresh, fragrant and fair flowers began to bloom. And on all sides there were heard charming symphony and captivating hymns relating to Indra. And before the lord of the celestial hosts of _Apsaras_ and _Gandharvas_ chanted various songs. And ascending celestial cars, there approached the _Marutas_ and the followers of _Mahendra_ and the dwellers of heaven. And afterwards, Marutvan together with _Sachi_ and all the celestials appeared on the scene in cars yoked with horses elegantly adorned. And at this very moment, O king, he that goeth about on the shoulders of men manifested himself unto me in excellent grace. And I saw _Yama_ seated on the south and _Varuna_ and the lord of the celestials at their respective regions. And, O foremost of men, O mighty monarch, they after having cheered me said, "O Savyasachin, behold us--the Lokapalas--seated. For the performance of the task of the gods thou hast obtained the sight of _Sankara_. Do thou now receive weapons from us seated around." Thereupon, O lord, having bowed down unto those foremost of the celestials with regard, I duly accepted those mighty weapons. And then they recognised me as one of their own. Afterwards the gods repaired to the quarter from whence they had come. And that lord of the celestials, the divine Maghavan too having ascended his glorious chariot, said, "O _Phalguna_, thou shalt have to repair unto the celestial region. O Dhananjaya, even before this thy arrival I knew that thou wouldst come hither. Then I have, O best of the Bharatas, manifested myself unto thee. As formerly thou hadst performed thy ablution in the various _tirthas_ and now hast performed severe austerities, so thou wilt be able to repair unto the celestial regions, O Pandava. Thou wilt, however, again have to practise extreme penance, for thou shouldst at any rate journey to heaven. And at my command, Matali shall take thee to the celestial regions. Thou hast already been recognised by the celestials and the celestial sages of high soul." Thereupon I said unto Sakra, "O divine one, be thou favourable unto me. With the view of learning arms do I beseech thee that thou mayst be my preceptor." At this Indra said, "O child, having learnt weapons thou wouldst perform terrible deeds and with this object thou desirest to obtain the weapons. However, obtain thou the arms, as thou desirest." Then I said, "O slayer of foes, I never would discharge these celestial weapons at mortals except when all my other arms should have been baffled. Do thou, O lord of the celestials, grant me the celestial weapons (so that) I may hereafter obtain the regions attainable by warriors." Indra said, "O Dhananjaya it is to try thee that I have said such words unto thee. Having been begotten of me this speech of thine well becometh thee. Do thou, O Bharata, repairing unto my abode learn all the weapons of _Vayu_, of _Agni_, of the _Vasus_, of _Varuna_, of the _Marutas_, of the _Siddhas_, of Brahma, of the Gandharvas, of the Uragas, of the Rakshasas, of Vishnu and of the _Nairitas_; and also all the weapons that are with me, O perpetuator of the Kuru race." Having said this unto me _Sakra_ vanished at the very spot. Then, O king, I saw the wonderful and sacred celestial car yoked with steeds arrive conducted by Matali. And when the Lokapalas went away Matali said unto me, "O thou of mighty splendour, the lord of the celestials is desirous of seeing thee. And O mighty-armed one, do thou acquire competence and then perform thy task. Come and behold the regions, attainable by merit and come unto heaven even in this frame. O Bharata, the thousand-eyed lord of the celestials wisheth to see thee." Thus addressed by Matali, I, taking leave of the mountain Himalaya and having gone round it ascended that excellent car. And then the exceedingly generous Matali, versed in equine lore, drove the steeds, gifted with the speed of thought or the wind. And when the chariot began to move that charioteer looking at my face as I was seated steadily, wondered and said these words, "Today this appeareth unto me strange and unprecedented that being seated in this celestial car, thou hast not been jerked ever so little. O foremost of Bharata race, I have ever remarked that at the first pull by the steeds even the lord of the celestials himself getteth jerked. But all the while that the car had moved, thou hast been sitting unshaken. This appeareth unto me as transcending even the power of _Sakra_." "'Having said this, O Bharata, Matali soared in the sky and showed me the abodes of the celestials and their palaces. Then the chariot yoked with steeds coursed upwards. And the celestials and the sages began to worship (that car), O prince of men. And I saw the regions, moving anywhere at will, and the splendour also of the highly energetic _Gandharvas, Apsaras_, and the celestial sages. And _Sakra's_ charioteer, Matali, at once showed me _Nandana_ and other gardens and groves belonging to the celestials. Next I beheld Indra's abode, _Amaravati_, adorned with jewels and trees yielding any sort of fruit that is desired. There the Sun doth not shed heat; nor doth heat or cold or fatigue there affect (one), O king. And, O great monarch, the celestials feel neither sorrow nor poverty of spirit, nor weakness, nor lassitude, O grinder of foes. And, O ruler of men, the celestials and the others have neither anger nor covetousness. And, O king, in the abodes of the celestials, the beings are ever contented. And there the trees ever bear verdant foliage, and fruits, and flowers; and the various lakes are embalmed with the fragrance of lotuses. And there the breeze is cool, and delicious, and fragrant, and pure, and inspiring. And the ground is variegated with all kinds of gems, and adorned with blossoms. And there were seen innumerable beautiful beasts and in the air innumerable rangers of the sky. Then I saw the _Vasus_, and the _Rudras_, and the _Sadhyas_ with the _Marutas_, and the _Adityas_, and the two _Aswins_ and worshipped them. And they conferred their benison on me, granting me strength and prowess, and energy, and celebrity, and (skill in) arms, and victory in battle. Then, entering that romantic city adored by the _Gandharvas_ and the celestials, with joined hands, I stood before the thousand-eyed lord of the celestials. Thereupon, that best of bestowers gladly offered unto me half of his seat; and _Vasava_ also with regard touched my person. And, O Bharata, with the view of acquiring arms and learning weapons, I began to dwell in heaven, together with the gods and the _Gandharvas_ of generous souls. And _Viswavana's_ son, _Chitrasena_ became my friend. And he, O king, imparted unto me the entire _Gandharva_ (science). And, O monarch, I happily lived in _Sakra's_ abode, well cared for having all my desires gratified, learning weapons, listening to the notes of songs, and the clear sounds of musical instruments, and beholding the foremost of _Apsaras_ dance. And without neglecting to study the arts, which I learnt properly, my attention was specially fixed on the acquisition of arms. And that lord of a thousand eyes was pleased with that purpose of mine. Living thus in heaven, O king, I passed this period. "'And when I had acquired proficiency in weapons, and gained his confidence that one having for his vehicle the horse (_Uchchaisrava_), (Indra), patting me on the head with his hand, said these words, "Now even the celestials themselves cannot conquer thee,--what shall I say of imperfect mortals residing on earth? Thou hast become invulnerable in strength, irrepressible, and incomparable in fight." Then with the hair of his body standing on end, he again accosted me saying, "O hero, in fighting with weapons none is equal unto thee. And, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, thou art even watchful, and dexterous, and truthful, and of subdued senses, and the protector of the _Brahmanas_ and adept in weapons, and warlike. And, O Partha, together with (a knowledge of) the five modes, using (them), thou hast obtained five and ten weapons and, therefore, there existeth none, who is thy peer. And thou hast perfectly learnt the discharge (of those weapons) and (their) withdrawal, and (their) re-discharge and re-withdrawal, and the _Prayaschitta_ connected (with them), and also their revival, in case of their being baffled. Now, O represser of foes, the time hath arrived for thy paying the preceptor's fee. Do thou promise to pay the fee; then I shall unfold unto thee what thou wilt have to perform." Thereat, O king, I said unto the ruler of the celestials, "If it be in my power to do the work, do thou consider it as already accomplished by me." O king, when I had said these words, Indra with a smile said unto me "Nothing is there in the three worlds that is not in thy power (to achieve). My enemies, those _Danavas_, named _Nivata-Kavachas_, dwell in the womb of the ocean. And they number thirty million and are notorious, and all of equal forms and strength and splendour. Do thou slay them there, O Kunti's son; and that will be thy preceptor's fee." "'Saying this he gave unto me the highly resplendent celestial car, conducted by Matali, furnished with hair resembling the down of peacocks. And on my head he set this excellent diadem. And he gave me ornaments for my body, like unto his own. And he granted unto me the impenetrable mail--the best of its kind, and easy to the touch; and fastened unto the _Gandiva_ this durable string. Then I set out, ascending that splendid chariot riding on which in days of yore, the lord of the celestials and vanquished _Vali_--that son of _Virochana_. And, O ruler of men, startled by the rattling of the car, all the celestials, approached (there), taking me to be the king of the celestials. And seeing me, they asked, "O Phalguna, what art thou going to do?" And I told them as it had fallen out,--and said, "I shall even do this in battle. Ye that are highly fortunate, know that I have set out desirous of slaying the _Nivata-Kavachas_. O sinless ones, do ye bless me." Thereupon, they began to eulogise me even as they (eulogise) the god, _Purandara_. And they said, "Riding on this car, _Maghavan_ conquered in battle _Samvara_, and _Namuchi_, and _Vala_, and _Vritra_, and _Prahrada_, and _Naraka_. And mounted on this car also Maghavan, had conquered in battle many thousands and millions and hundreds of millions of _Daityas_. And, O _Kaunteya_, thou also, riding on this car, by thy prowess shalt conquer the _Nivata-Kavachas_ in conflict, even as did the self-possessed Maghavan in days of yore. And here is the best of shells; by this also thou shalt defeat the _Danavas_. And by this it is that the high souled _Sakra_ conquered the words." Saying this, the gods offered (unto me) this shell, _Devadatta_, sprung in the deep; and I accepted it for the sake of victory. And at this moment, the gods fell extolling me. And in order to be engaged in action, I proceeded to the dreadful abode of the _Danavas_, furnished with the shell, the mail, and arrows, and taking my bow.'" SECTION CLXVIII "Arjuna continued, 'Then at places eulogised by the _Maharshis_, I (proceeded, and at length) beheld the ocean--that inexhaustible lord of waters. And like unto flowing cliffs were seen on it heaving billows, now meeting together and now rolling away. And there (were seen) all around barks by thousands filled with gems. And there were seen _timingilas_ and tortoises and _makaras_ like unto rock submerged in water. And on all sides round thousands of shells sunk in water appeared like stars in the night covered by light clouds. And thousands upon thousands of gems were floating in heaps and a violent wind was blowing about in whirls--and this was wonderful to behold. And having beheld that excellent lord of all waters with powerful tides, I saw at a short distance the city of the demons filled with the _Danavas_. And even there, entering underneath the earth, Matali skilled in guiding the car, sitting fast on the chariot drove it with force; and he dashed on, frightening that city with the rattling of his chariot. And hearing that rattling of the chariot like unto the rumbling of the clouds in the sky, the _Danavas_, thinking me to be the lord of the celestials, became agitated. And thereupon they all, frightened at heart, stood holding in their hands bows and arrows and swords and javelins and axes and maces and clubs. Then having made arrangements for the defence of the city, the _Danavas_, with minds alarmed, shut the gates, so that nothing could be discovered. Thereupon taking my shell, _Devadatta_, of tremendous roars, I again and again winded it with exceeding cheerfulness. And filling all the firmament, those sounds produced echoes. Thereat mighty beings were terrified and they hid (themselves). And then, O Bharata, all of them adorned with ornaments, those offsprings of _Diti_--the _Nivata-Kavachas_--made their appearance by thousands, donning diverse mail and taking in their hands various weapons and equipped with mighty iron javelins and maces and clubs and hatchets and sabres and discs and _sataghnis_ and _bhusundis_ and variegated and ornamented swords. Then, after deliberating much as to the course of the car, Matali began to guide the steeds on a (piece of) level ground, O foremost of the Bharatas. And owing to the swiftness of those fleet coursers conducted by him, I could see nothing--and this was strange. Then the _Danavas_ there began to sound thousands of musical instruments, dissonant and of odd shapes. And at those sounds, fishes by hundreds and by thousands, like unto hills, having their senses bewildered by that noise, fled suddenly. And mighty force flew at me, the demons discharging sharpened shafts by hundreds and by thousands. And then, O Bharata, there ensued a dreadful conflict between me and the demons, calculated to extinguish the _Nivata Kavachas_. And there came to the mighty battle the _Devarshis_ and the _Danavarshis_ and the _Brahmarshis_ and the _Siddhas_. And desirous of victory, the _Munis eulogised_ me with the same sweet-speeches that (they had eulogised) Indra with, at the war, (which took place) for the sake of _Tara_.'" SECTION CLXIX "Arjuna continued, 'Then, O Bharata, vehemently rushed at me in battle in a body the _Nivata-Kavachas_, equipped with arms. And obstructing the course of the car, and shouting loudly, those mighty charioteers, hemming me in on all sides, covered me with showers of shafts. Then other demons of mighty prowess, with darts and hatchets in their hands, began to throw at me spears and axes. And that mighty discharge of darts, with numerous maces and clubs incessantly hurled fell upon my car. And other dreadful and grim-visaged smiters among the _Nivata-Kavachas_, furnished with bows and sharpened weapons, ran at me in fight. And in the conflict, shooting from the _Gandiva_ sundry swift arrows coursing straight, I pierced each of them with ten. And they were driven back by those stone-whetted shafts of mine. Then on my steeds being swiftly driven by Matali, they began to display various movements with the speed of the wind. And being skilfully guided by Matali, they began to trample upon the sons of _Diti_. And although the steeds yoked unto that mighty chariot numbered hundreds upon hundreds, yet being deftly conducted by Matali, they began to move, as if they were only a few. And by their tread, and by the rattling of the chariot wheels and by the volleys of my shafts, the _Danavas_ began to fall by hundreds. And others accoutred in bows, being deprived of life, and having their charioteers slain, were carried about by the horses. Then, covering all sides and directions, all (the _Danavas_) skilled in striking entered into the contest with various weapons, and thereat my mind became afflicted. And I witnessed (this instance of) the marvellous prowess of Matali, viz., that he guided those fiery steeds with ease. Then, O king, in the conflict, with diverse fleet weapons I pierced by hundreds and by thousands (demons) bearing arms. And, O slayer of foes, seeing me thus range the field putting forth every exertion, the heroic charioteer of _Sakra_ was well-pleased. And oppressed by those steeds and that car, some (of them) met with annihilation; and others desisted from fight; while (other) _Nivata-Kavachas_, challenged by us in battle and being harassed with shafts offered opposition unto me, by (discharging) mighty showers of arrows. Thereupon, with hundreds and thousands of sundry fleet weapons inspired with the _mantras_ relating to _Brahma's_ weapons, I swiftly began to burn them. And being sore pressed by me, those mighty _asuras_ waxing wroth afflicted me together, by pouring torrents of clubs and darts and swords. Then, O Bharata, I took up that favourite weapon of the lord of the celestials, Maghavan by name, prime and of fiery energy and by the energy of that weapon I cut into a thousand pieces the _Tomaras_, together with the swords and the tridents hurled by them. And having cut off their arms I in ire pierced them each with ten shafts. And in the field arrows were shot from the _Gandiva_ like unto rows of black-bees; and this Matali admired. And their shafts also showered upon me; but those powerful (arrows) I cut off with my shafts. Then on being struck the _Nivata-Kavachas_ again covered me on all sides with a mighty shower of arrows. And having neutralised the force of the arrows by excellent swift and flaming weapons capable of baffling arms, I pierced them by thousands. And blood began to flow from their torn frames, even as in the rainy season waters run down from the summits of mountains. And on being wounded by my fleet and straight-coursing shafts of the touch of Indra's thunder-bolt, they became greatly agitated. And their bodies were pierced at hundreds of places; and the force of their arms diminished. Then the _Nivata-Kavachas_ fought me by (the help of) illusion.'" SECTION CLXX "Arjuna said, 'Then with rocks of the proportions of trees, there commenced a mighty shower of crags; and this exercised me exceedingly. And in that high encounter, I crushed (those crags) by swift-speeding showers of arrows, issuing from Mahendra's weapon, like unto the thunder-bolt itself. And when the rocks had been reduced to powder, there was generated fire; and the rocky dust fell like unto masses of flames. And when the showers of crags had been repelled, there happened near me a mightier shower of water, having currents of the proportions of an axle. And falling from the welkin, those thousands of powerful torrents covered the entire firmament and the directions and the cardinal points. And on account of the pouring of the shower, and of the blowing of the wind, and of roaring of the _Daityas_, nothing could be perceived. And touching heaven and the entire earth, and incessantly falling on the ground, the showers bewildered me. Thereupon, I discharged that celestial weapon which I had learnt from Indra--even the dreadful and flaming _Visoshana_: and by that the water was dried up. And, O Bharata, when the rocky shower had been destroyed, and the watery shower had been dried up, the _Danavas_ began to spread illusions of fire and wind. Then by aqueous appliances I extinguished the flames; and by a mighty rock-issuing arm, resisted the fury of the winds. And when these had been repelled, the _Danavas_, irrepressible in battle, O Bharata, simultaneously created various illusions. And there happened a tremendous horrifying shower of rocks and dreadful weapons of fire and wind. And that illusory downpour afflicted me in fight. And then on all sides there appeared a dense and thick darkness. And when the world had been enveloped in deep and dense darkness, the steeds turned away, Matali fell off, and from his hand the golden lash fell to the earth. And, O foremost of the Bharatas, being frightened, he again and again cried, "Where art thou?" And when he had been stupefied, a terrible fear possessed me. And then in a hurry, he spake unto me, saying, "O Partha, for the sake of nectar, there had taken place a mighty conflict between the gods and the demons. I had seen that (encounter), O sinless one. And on the occasion of the destruction of Samvara, there had occurred a dreadful and mighty contest. Nevertheless I had acted as charioteer to the lord of the celestials. In the same way, on the occasion of the slaying of _Vritra_, the steeds had been conducted by me. And I had also beheld the high and terrific encounter with _Virochana's_ son, and, O Pandava, with _Vala_, and with _Prahrada_ and with others also. In these exceedingly dreadful battles, I was present; but, O Pandu's son, never (before) had I lost my senses. Surely the Greatfather hath ordained the destruction of all creatures; for this battle cannot be for any other purpose than destruction of the universe." Having heard these words of his, "pacifying my perturbation by my own effort, I will destroy the mighty energy of the illusion spread by the _Danavas_" quoth I unto the terrified Matali. "Behold the might of my arms, and the power of my weapons and of the bow, _Gandiva_. To-day even by (the help of) illusion-creating arms, will I dispel this deep gloom and also this horrible illusion of theirs. Do not fear, O charioteer. Pacify thyself." Having said this, O lord of men, I created for the good of the celestials, an illusion of arms capable of bewildering all beings. And when (their) illusion had been dispelled, some of the foremost amongst the _Asuras_, of unrivalled prowess, again spread diverse kinds of illusion. Thereupon, now (the world) displayed itself, and now it was devoured by darkness; and now the world disappeared from view and now it was submerged under water. And when it had brightened up, Matali, sitting in front of the car, with the wellconducted steeds, began to range that hair-erecting field. Then the fierce _Nivata-Kavachas_ assailed me. And finding my opportunity, I began to send them to the mansion of Yama. Thereupon, in that conflict then raging, calculated to annihilate the _Nivata-Kavachas_ on a sudden, I could not see the _Danavas_ concealed by illusion.'" SECTION CLXXI "Arjuna continued, 'Remaining invisible the _Daityas_ began to fight with the help of illusion. And I too fought with them, resorting to the energy of visible weapons. And the shafts duly discharged from the _Gandiva_, began to sever their heads at those different places where they were respectively stationed. And thus assailed by me in the conflict, the _Nivata-Kavachas_, all on a sudden withdrawing the illusion, entered into their own city. And when the _Daityas_ had fled, and when all had become visible, I there discovered hundreds and thousands of the slain. And there I saw by hundreds their shivered weapons, ornaments, limbs, and mail. And the horses could not find room for moving from one place to another; and on a sudden with a bound, they fell to coursing in the sky. Then remaining invisible, the _Nivata-Kavachas_ covered the entire welkin with masses of crags. And, O Bharata, other dreadful _Danavas_, entering into the entrails of the earth, took up horses' legs and chariot-wheels. And as I was fighting, they, hard besetting my horses with rocks, attacked me together with (my) car. And with the crags that had fallen and with others that were falling, the place where I was, seemed to be a mountain cavern. And on myself being covered with crags and on the horses being hard pressed, I became sore distressed and this was marked by Matali. And on seeing me afraid, he said unto me, "O Arjuna, Arjuna! be thou not afraid; send that weapon, the thunder-bolt, O lord of men." Hearing those words of his, I then discharged the favourite weapon of the king of the celestials--the dreadful thunderbolt. And inspiring the Gandiva with _mantras_, I, aiming at the locality of the crags, shot sharpened iron shafts of the touch of the thunder-bolt. And sent by the thunder, those adamantine arrows entered into all those illusions and into the midst of those _Nivata-Kavachas_. And slaughtered by the vehemence of the thunder, those _Danavas_ resembling cliffs, fell to the earth together in masses. And entering amongst those _Danavas_ that had carried away the steeds of the car into the interior of the earth, the shafts sent them into the mansion of _Yama_. And that quarter was completely covered with the _Nivata-Kavachas_ that had been killed or baffled, comparable unto cliffs and lying scattered like crags. And then no injury appeared to have been sustained either by the horses, or by the car, or by Matali, or by me, and this seemed strange. Then, O king, Matali addressed me smiling, "Not in the celestials themselves, O Arjuna, is seen the prowess that is seen in thee." And when the _Danava_ hosts had been destroyed, all their females began to bewail in that city, like unto cranes in autumn. Then with Matali I entered that city, terrifying with the rattling of my car the wives of the _Nivata-Kavachas_. Thereupon, seeing those ten thousand horses like unto peacocks (in hue), and also that chariot resembling the sun, the women fled in swarms. And like unto (the sounds of) rocks falling on a mountain, sounds arose of the (falling) ornaments of the terrified dames. (At length), the panic-stricken wives of the _Daityas_ entered into their respective golden places variegated with innumerable jewels. Beholding that excellent city, superior to the city of the celestials themselves, I asked Matali, saying, "Why do not the celestials reside in such (a place)? Surely, this appeareth superior to the city of Purandara." Thereat, Matali said, "In days of yore, O Partha, even this was the city of our lord of the celestials. Afterwards the celestials were driven from hence by the _Nivata-Kavachas_. Having performed the most rigid austerities, they had gratified the Grand-father and had asked (and obtained) the boons--namely, that they might reside here, and that they might be free from danger in wars with the gods." Then _Sakra_ addressed the self-create lord saying, "Do thou, O lord, desirous of our own welfare do what is proper." Thereupon, O Bharata, in this matter the Lord commanded (Indra), saying, "O slayer of foes, in another body, even thou shalt be (the destroyer of the _Danavas_)." Then, in order to slaughter them, _Sakra_ rendered unto thee those weapons. The gods had been unable to slay these, who have been slain by thee. O Bharata, in the fullness of time, hadst thou come hither, in order to destroy them and thou hast done so. O foremost of men, with the object that the demons might be killed, Mahendra had conferred on thee the excellent prime energy of these weapons.' "Arjuna continued, 'After having destroyed the _Danavas_, and also subdued that city, with Matali I again went to that abode of the celestials.'" SECTION CLXXII "Arjuna continued, 'Then while returning, I happened to descry a mighty unearthly city, moving at will, and having the effulgence of fire or the sun. And that city contained various trees composed of gems, and sweet-voiced feathered ones. And furnished with four gates, and gate-ways, and towers, that impregnable (city) was inhabited by the _Paulamas_ and _Kalakanjas_. And it was made of all sorts of jewels and was unearthly, and of wonderful appearance. And it was covered with trees of all kinds of gems, bearing fruits and flowers. And it contained exceedingly beautiful unearthly birds. And it always swarmed throughout with cheerful _Asuras_, wearing garlands, and bearing in their hands darts, two edged swords, maces, bows, and clubs. And, O king, on seeing this wonderful city of the Daityas, I asked Matali saying, "What is this that looketh so wonderful?" Thereat, Matali replied, "Once on a time a _Daitya's_ daughter, named _Pulama_ and a mighty female of the _Asura_ order, _Kalaka_ by name, practised severe austerities for a thousand celestial years. And at the end of their austerities, the self-create conferred on them boons. And, O king of kings, they received these boons,--that their offspring might never suffer misfortune; that they might be incapable of being destroyed even by the gods, the _Rakshasas_ and the _Pannagas_; and that they might obtain a highly effulgent and surpassingly fair aerial city, furnished with all manner of gems and invincible even by the celestials, the _Maharshis_, the _Yakshas_, the _Gandharvas_, the _Pannagas_, the _Asuras_ and the _Rakshasas_. O best of the Bharatas, this is that unearthly aerial city devoid of the celestials, which is moving about, having been created for the _Kalakeyas_, by _Brahma_ himself. And this city is furnished with all desirable objects, and is unknown of grief or disease. And, O hero, celebrated under the name of _Hiranyapura_, this mighty city is inhabited by the _Paulamas_ and the _Kalakanjas_; and it is also guarded by those mighty _Asuras_. And, O king, unslayed by any of the gods, there they dwell cheerfully, free from anxiety and having all their desires gratified, O foremost of kings. Formerly, _Brahma_ had destined destruction at the hands of mortals. Do thou, O Partha, in fight, compass with that weapon--the thunder-bolt--the destruction of the mighty and irrepressible _Kalakanjas_."' "Arjuna continued, 'O lord of men, learning that they were incapable of being destroyed by the celestials and the _Asuras_, I cheerfully said unto Matali, "Do thou speedily repair into yonder city. With weapons will I compass the annihilation of the haters of the lord of the celestials. Surely, there exist no wicked haters of the gods who ought not to be slain by me." Thereupon Matali took me to the vicinity of _Hiranyapura_ on the celestial chariot yoked with steeds. And seeing me, those sons of Diti, wearing various kinds of attire and ornament and accoutred in mail, flew at me with a mighty rush. And those foremost of the _Danavas_, of exceeding prowess, in wrath attacked me with arrows and _bhallas_ and clubs and two-edged swords, and _tomaras_. Thereat, O king, resorting to my strength of lore, I resisted that great volley of weapons by a mighty shower of shafts; and also confounded them in conflict by ranging around in my car. And being bewildered, the _Danavas_ began to push each other down. And having been confounded, they rushed at one another. And with flaming arrows, I severed their heads by hundreds. And hard pressed by me, the offspring of Diti, taking shelter within (their) city, soared with it to the firmament, resorting to the illusion proper to the _Danavas_. Thereupon, O son of the Kurus, covering the way of the _Daityas_, with a mighty discharge of shafts I obstructed their course. Then by virtue of the bestowal of the boon, the _Daityas_ supported themselves easily on that sky-ranging unearthly aerial city, going anywhere at will and like unto the sun. And now (the city) entered unto the earth and now it rose upwards; and at one time it went in a crooked way and at another time it submerged into water. At this, O represser of foes, I assailed that mighty city, going anywhere at will, and resembling _Amaravati_. And, O best of the Bharatas, I attacked the city containing those sons of Diti, with multitudes of shafts, displaying celestial weapons. And battered and broken by the straight-coursing iron shafts, shot by me, the city of the _Asuras_, O king, fell to the earth. And they also, wounded by my iron arrows having the speed of the thunder, began, O monarch, to go about, being urged by destiny. Then ascending to the sky, Matali, as if falling in front, swiftly descended to the earth, on that chariot of solar resplendence. Then, O Bharata, environed me sixty thousand cars belonging to those wrathful ones eager to battle with me. And with sharpened shafts graced with feathers of the vulture, I destroyed those (cars). At this, thinking, "These our hosts are incapable of being vanquished by mortals," they became engaged in the conflict, like unto the surges of the sea. Thereupon I gradually began to fix (on the string) unearthly weapons. At this, thousands of weapons (shot) by those wonderfully warring charioteers, by degrees opposed my unearthly arms and in the field I saw hundreds and thousands of mighty (demons) ranging on their cars, in various manoeuvres. And being furnished with variegated mail and standards and diverse ornaments, they delighted my mind. And in the conflict I could not afflict them by showers of shafts, but they did not afflict me. And being afflicted by those innumerable ones, equipped in weapons and skilled in fight, I was pained in that mighty encounter and a terrible fear seized me. Thereupon collecting (my energies) in fight, I (bowed down) unto that god of gods, _Raudra_, and saying, "May welfare attend on all beings!" I fixed that mighty weapon which, celebrated under the name of _Raudra_, is the destroyer of all foes. Then I beheld a male person having three heads, nine eyes, three faces, and six arms. And his hair was flaming like fire or the sun. And, O slayer of foes, for his dress, he had mighty serpents, putting out their tongues. And saying, O best of the Bharatas, the dreadful and eternal _Raudra_, I being free from fear, set it on the _Gandiva_; and, bowing unto the three-eyed _Sarva_ of immeasurable energy, let go (the weapon), with the object of vanquishing those foremost of the _Danavas_, O Bharata. And, O lord of men, as soon as it had been hurled, there appeared on the scene by thousands, forms of deer, and of lions, and of tigers, and of bears and of buffaloes, and of serpents, and of kine, and of sarabhas, and of elephants, and of apes in multitudes, and of bulls, and of boars, and of cats, and of dogs, and of spectres, and of all the _Bhurundas_, and of vultures, and of Garudas, of _chumaras_, and of all the leopards, and of mountains, and of seas, and of celestials, and of sages, and of all the _Gandharvas_, and of ghosts with the _Yakshas_, and of the haters of the gods, (_Asuras_), and of the _Guhyakas_ in the field, and of the _Nairitas_ and of elephant-mouthed sharks, and of owls, and of beings having the forms of fishes and horses, and of beings bearing swords and various other weapons, and of _Rakshasas_ wielding maces and clubs. And on that weapon being hurled all the universe became filled with these as well as many others wearing various shapes. And again and again wounded by beings of various sights with (pieces of) flesh, fat, bones, and marrow on their persons,--some having three heads, and some four tusks, and some four mouths, and some four arms,--the _Danavas_ met with destruction. And, then, O Bharata, in a moment I slew all those _Danavas_, with other swarms of arrows composed of the quintessence of stone, flaming like fire or the sun, and possessed of the force of the thunder-bolt. And, seeing them hewn by the _Gandiva_, and deprived of life, and thrown from the sky, I again bowed unto that god--the Destroyer of _Tripura_. And, seeing those adorned with unearthly ornaments, crushed by the weapon, the _Raudra_, the charioteer of the celestials, experienced the greatest delight. And having witnessed the accomplishment of that unbearable feat incapable of being achieved even by the celestials themselves, Matali, the charioteer of Sakra, paid homage unto me; and well-pleased, with joint hands said these words. "The feat that hath been achieved by thee, is incapable of being borne even by the gods, nay,--in battle, the lord of the celestials himself cannot perform this deed. The sky-coursing mighty city incapable of being destroyed by the gods and the Asuras hast thou, O hero, crushed by thy own prowess and by the energy of asceticism." And when that aerial city had been destroyed, and when the _Danavas_ also had been slain, their wives, uttering cries of distress, like unto Kurari birds, with hair dishevelled came out of the city. And bewailing for their sons and brothers and fathers, they fell on the ground and cried with distressful accents. And on being deprived for their lords, they beat their breasts, their garlands and ornaments fallen off. And that city of _Danavas_, in appearance like unto the city of the _Gandharvas_ filled with lamentations and stricken with dole and distress, and bereft of grace even like unto a lake deprived of (its) elephants, or like unto a forest deprived of trees and (deprived of its) masters, looked no longer beautiful--but it vanished, like a cloud-constructed city. And when I had accomplished the task, from the field Matali took me of delighted spirits, unto the abode of the lord of the celestials. And having slain those mighty Asuras, and destroyed _Hiranyapura_, and having also killed the _Nivata-Kavachas_, I came unto Indra. And, O exceedingly resplendent one, as it had fallen out, Matali related in detail unto Devendra that entire achievement of mine. And with the Marutas, hearing of the destruction of _Hiranyapura_, of the neutralisation of the illusion, and of the slaughter of the highly powerful Nivatakavachas in fight, the prosperous thousand-eyed divine _Purandara_ was well pleased, and exclaimed, "Well done; Well done!" And the king of the celestials together with the celestials, cheering me again and again, said these sweet words, "By thee hath been achieved a feat incapable of being achieved by the gods and the Asuras. And, O Partha, by slaying my mighty enemies, thou hast paid the preceptor's fee. And, O Dhananjaya, thus in battle shalt thou always remain calm, and discharge the weapons unerringly, and there shall not stand thee in fight celestials, and _Danavas_, and _Rakshasas_, and _Yakshas_, and _Asuras_, and _Gandharvas_ and birds and serpents. And, O Kaunteya, by conquering it even by the might of thy arms, Kunti's son Yudhishthira, will rule the earth."'" SECTION CLXXIII "Arjuna continued, 'Then firmly confident, the sovereign of the celestials considering as his own, pertinently said these words unto me wounded by cleaving shafts, "All the celestial weapons, O Bharata, are with thee, so no man on earth will by any means be able to over-power thee. And, O son, when thou art in the field, Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and Karna and Sakuni together with other Kshatriyas shall not amount unto one-sixteenth part of thee." And the lord Maghavan granted me this golden garland and this shell, Devadatta, of mighty roars, and also his celestial mail impenetrable and capable of protecting the body. And Indra himself set on my (head) this diadem. And _Sakra_ presented me with these unearthly apparels and unearthly ornaments, elegant and rare. In this manner, O king, (duly) honoured, I delightfully dwelt in Indra's sacred abode with the children of the _Gandharvas_. Then, well-pleased, _Sakra_, together with the celestials, addressed me, saying, "O Arjuna, the time hath come for thy departure; thy brothers have thought of thee." Thus, O Bharata, remembering the dissensions arising from that gambling, did I, O king, pass those five years in the abode of Indra. Then have I come and seen thee surrounded by our brothers on the summit of this lower range of the _Gandhamadana_.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O Dhananjaya, by fortune it is that the weapons have been obtained by thee; by fortune it is that the master of the immortals hath been adored by thee. O repressor of foes, by fortune it is that the divine _Sthanu_ together with the goddess had become manifest unto thee and been gratified by thee in battle, O sinless one; by fortune it is that thou hadst met with the Lokapalas, O best of the Bharatas. O Partha, by fortune it is that we have prospered; and by fortune it is that thou hast come back. To-day I consider as if the entire earth engarlanded with cities hath already been conquered, and as if the sons of Dhritarashtra have already been subdued. Now, O Bharata, I am curious to behold those celestial weapons wherewith thou hadst slain the powerful _Nivata-Kavachas_.' "Thereat Arjuna said, 'Tomorrow in the morning thou wilt see all the celestial weapons with which I slew the fierce _Nivata-Kavachas_.'" Vaisampayana said, "Thus having related (the facts touching) the arrival, Dhananjaya passed that night there, together with all his brothers." SECTION CLXXIV Vaisampayana continued, "And when the night had passed, Yudhishthira the just, arose and together with his brothers, performed the necessary duties. He then spake unto Arjuna, that delight of his mother, saying, 'O Kaunteya, do thou show (me) those weapons with which thou vanquished the _Danavas_.' Thereat, O king, the exceedingly powerful Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu, duly practising extreme purity, showed those weapons, O Bharata, which had been given unto him by the celestials. Dhananjaya seated on the earth, as his chariot, which had the mountain for its pole, the base of the axle and the cluster of beautiful-looking bamboo trees for its socket-pole, looked resplendent with that celestial armour of great lustre, took his bow _Gandiva_ and the conch-shell given to him by the gods, commenced to exhibit those celestial weapons in order. And as those celestial weapons had been set, the Earth being oppressed with the feet (of Arjuna), began to tremble with (its) trees; and the rivers and the mighty main became vexed; and the rocks were riven; and the air was hushed. And the sun did not shine; and fire did not flame; and by no means did the Vedas of the twice-born once shine. And, O Janamejaya, the creatures peopling the interior of the earth, on being afflicted, rose and surrounded the Pandava, trembling with joined hands and contorted countenances. And being burnt by those weapons, they besought Dhananjaya (for their lives). Then the _Brahmarshis_, and the _Siddhas_, and the _Maharshis_ and the mobile beings--all these appeared (on the scene). And the foremost _Devarshis_, and the celestials and the _Yakshas_ and the _Rakshasas_ and the _Gandharvas_ and the feathered tribes and the (other) sky-ranging beings--all these appeared (on the scene). And the Great-sire and all the Lokapalas and the divine Mahadeva, came thither, together with their followers. Then, O great king, bearing unearthly variegated blossoms _Vayu_ (the Wind-god) fell to strewing them around the Pandava. And sent by the celestials, the _Gandharvas_ chanted various ballads; and, O monarch, hosts of the _Apsaras_ danced (there). At such a moment, O king, sent by the celestials, Narada arrived (there) and addressed Partha in these sweet words, 'O Arjuna, Arjuna, do thou not discharge the celestial weapons. These should never be discharged when there is no object (fit). And when there is an object (present), they should also by no means be hurled, unless one is sore pressed; for, O son of the Kurus, to discharge the weapons (without occasion), is fraught with great evil. And, O Dhananjaya, being duly kept as thou hast been instructed to these powerful weapons will doubtless conduce to thy strength and happiness. But if they are not properly kept, they, O Pandava, will become the instrument for the destruction of the three worlds. So thou shouldst not act in this way again. O Ajatasatru, thou too wilt behold even these weapons, when Partha will use them for grinding (thy) enemies in battle.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having prevented Partha the immortals with others that had come there, went to each his place, O foremost of men. And, O Kaurava, after they had all gone, the Pandavas began to dwell pleasantly in the same forest, together with Krishna." SECTION CLXXV Janamejaya said, "When that prince among heroes, having been accomplished in arms, had returned from the abode of the slayer of Vritra, what did Pritha's sons do in company with the warlike Dhananjaya?" Vaisampayana said, "In company with that hero equal unto Indra, Arjuna--that foremost of men, sported in the pleasure-gardens of the lord of treasures (situated) in those woods on that romantic and excellent mountain. And surveying those peerless and various pleasure-grounds filled with diverse trees, that chief of men, _Kiriti_, ever intent upon arms, ranged at large, bow in hand. And having through the grace of king Vaisravana obtained a residence, those sons of a sovereign cared not for the prosperity of men. And, O king, that period of their (lives) passed peacefully. And having Partha in their company, they spent four years there even like a single night. And as the Pandavas lived in the wood, (these four years) and the former six, numbering ten, passed smoothly with them. "Then having seated themselves before the king, the vehement son of the Wind-god, with _Jishnu_ and the heroic twins, like unto the lord of the celestials, earnestly addressed the king in these beneficial and pleasant words. 'It is only to render thy promise effectual and to advance thy interests, that, O king of the Kurus, forsaking the forest, we do not go to slay Suyodhana together with all his followers. Although deserving of happiness, yet have we been deprived of happiness. And this is the eleventh year that (in this state) we have been living (in the forest). And hereafter, deluding that one of evil mind and character, shall we easily live out the period of non-discovery. And at thy mandate, O monarch, free from apprehension, we have been ranging the woods, having relinquished our honour. Having been tempted by our residence in the vicinity, they (our enemies) will not believe that we have removed to a distant realm. And after having lived there undiscovered for a year, and having wreaked our revenge on that wicked wight, Suyodhana, with his followers, we shall easily root out that meanest of men, slaying him and regaining our kingdom. Therefore, O Dharmaraja, do thou descend unto the earth. For, O king, if we dwell in this region like unto heaven itself, we shall forget our sorrows. In that case, O Bharata, thy fame like unto a fragrant flower shall vanish from the mobile and the immobile worlds. By gaining that kingdom of the Kuru chiefs, thou wilt be able to attain (great glory), and to perform various sacrifices. This that thou art receiving from _Kuvera_, thou wilt, O foremost of men, be able to attain any time. Now, O Bharata, turn thy mind towards the punishment and destruction of foes that committed wrongs. O king, the wielder of the thunderbolt himself is incapable of standing thy prowess. And intent upon thy welfare, he, having _Suparna_ for his mark (Krishna), and also the grandson of Sini (Satyaki) never experience pain, even when engaged in encounter with the gods, O Dharmaraja. And Arjuna is peerless in strength, and so am I too, O best of kings. And as Krishna together with the Yadavas is intent upon thy welfare, so am I also, O foremost of monarchs, and the heroic twins accomplished in war. And encountering the enemy, we, having for our main object the attainment by thee of wealth and prosperity, will destroy them.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then having learnt that intention of theirs, the magnanimous and excellent son of Dharma, versed in religion and profit, and of immeasurable prowess, went round Vaisravana's abode. And Yudhishthira the just, after bidding adieu unto the palaces, the rivers, the lakes, and all the _Rakshasas_, looked towards the way by which (he) had come (there). And then looking at the mountain also, the high-souled and pure-minded one besought that best of mountains, saying, 'O foremost of mountains, may I together with my friends, after having finished my task, and slain my foes, and regained my kingdom, see thee again, carrying on austerities with subdued soul.' And this also he determined on. And in company with his younger brothers and the _Brahmanas_, the lord of the Kurus proceeded even along that very road. And Ghatotkacha with his followers began to carry them over the mountain cascades. And as they started, the great sage _Lomasa_, advising them even as a father doth his son, with a cheerful heart, went unto the sacred abode of the dwellers of heaven. Then advised also by Arshtishena, those first of men, the Parthas, went alone beholding romantic _tirthas_ and hermitages, and other mighty lakes." SECTION CLXXVI Vaisampayana said, "When they had left their happy home in the beautiful mountain abounding in cascades, and having birds, and the elephants of the eight quarters, and the supernatural attendants of _Kuvera_ (as dwellers thereof), all happiness forsook those foremost of men of Bharata's race. But afterwards on beholding _Kuvera's_ favourite mountain, _Kailasa_, appearing like clouds, the delight of those pre-eminent heroes of the race of Bharata, became very great. And those foremost of heroic men, equipped with scimitars and bows, proceeded contentedly, beholding elevations and defiles, and dens of lions and craggy causeways and innumerable water-falls and lowlands, in different places, as also other great forests inhabited by countless deer and birds and elephants. And they came upon beautiful woodlands and rivers and lakes and caves and mountain caverns; and these frequently by day and night became the dwelling place of those great men. And having dwelt in all sorts of inaccessible places and crossing _Kailasa_ of inconceivable grandeur, they reached the excellent and surpassingly beautiful hermitage of _Vrishaparba_. And meeting king Vrishaparba and received by him, they became free from depression and then they accurately narrated in detail to Vrishaparba the story of their sojourn in the mountains. And having pleasantly passed one night in his sacred abode frequented by gods and _Maharshis_, those great warriors proceeded smoothly towards the jujube tree called Visala and took up their quarters there. Then all those magnanimous men having reached the place of Narayana, continued to live there, bereft of all sorrow, at beholding _Kuvera's_ favourite lake, frequented by gods and _Siddhas_. And viewing that lake, those foremost of men, the sons of Pandu traversed that place, renouncing all grief even as immaculate _Brahmana rishis_ (do) on attaining a habitation in the _Nandana_ gardens. Then all those warriors having in due course happily lived at Badari for one month, proceeded towards the realm of Suvahu, king of the _Kiratas_, by following the same track by which they had come. And crossing the difficult Himalayan regions, and the countries of China, Tukhara, Darada and all the climes of Kulinda, rich in heaps of jewels, those warlike men reached the capital of Suvahu. And hearing that those sons and grandsons of kings had all reached his kingdom, Suvahu, elated with joy, advanced (to meet them). Then the best of the Kurus welcomed him also. And meeting king Suvahu, and being joined by all their charioteers with Visoka at their head and by their attendants, Indrasena and others, and also by the superintendents and servants of the kitchen, they stayed there comfortably for one night. Then taking all the chariots and chariot-men and dismissing Ghatotkacha together with his followers, they next repaired to the monarch of mountains in the vicinity of the _Yamuna_. In the midst of the mountain abounding in waterfalls and having grey and orange-coloured slopes and summits covered with a sheet of snow, those warlike men having then found the great forest of Visakhayupa like unto the forest of Chitraratha and inhabited by wild boars and various kinds of deer and birds, made it their home. Addicted to hunting as their chief occupation, the sons of Pritha peacefully dwelt in that forest for one year. There in a cavern of the mountain, Vrikodara, with a heart afflicted with distraction and grief, came across a snake of huge strength distressed with hunger and looking fierce like death itself. At this crisis Yudhishthira, the best of pious men, became the protector of Vrikodara and he, of infinite puissance, extricated Bhima whose whole body had been fast gripped by the snake with its folds. And the twelfth year of their sojourn in forests having arrived, those scions of the race of Kuru, blazing in effulgence, and engaged in asceticism, always devoted principally to the practice of archery, repaired cheerfully from that Chitraratha-like forest to the borders of the desert, and desirous of dwelling by the _Saraswati_ they went there, and from the banks of that river they reached the lake of _Dwaitabana_. Then seeing them enter _Dwaitabana_, the dwellers of that place engaged in asceticism, religious ordinances, and self-restraining exercises and in deep and devout meditation and subsisting on things ground with stone (for want of teeth) having procured grass-mats and water-vessels, advanced to meet them. The holy fig, the rudaraksha, the rohitaka, the cane and the jujube, the catechu, the sirisha, the bel and the inguda and the karira and pilu and sami trees grew on the banks of the _Saraswati_. Wandering about with contentment in (the vicinity of) the _Saraswati_ which was, as it were, the home of the celestials, and the favourite (resort) of _Yakshas_ and _Gandharvas_ and _Maharshis_, those sons of kings lived there in happiness." SECTION CLXXVII Janamejaya said, "How was it, O sage! that Bhima, of mighty prowess and possessing the strength of ten thousand elephants, was stricken with panic at (the sight of) that snake? Thou hast described him, that slayer of his enemies, as dismayed and appalled with fear, even him, who by fighting at the lotus lake (of Kuvera) became the destroyer of _Yakshas_ and _Rakshasas_ and who, in proud defiance, invited to a single combat, Pulastya's son, the dispenser of all riches. I desire to hear this (from you); great indeed is my curiosity." Vaisampayana continued, "O king, having reached king Vrishaparva's hermitage, while those fearful warriors were living in various wonderful woods, Vrikodara roaming at pleasure, with bow in hand and armed with a scimitar, found that beautiful forest, frequented by gods and _Gandharvas_. And then he beheld (some) lovely spots in the Himalayan mountains, frequented by _Devarshis_ and _Siddhas_ and inhabited by hosts of _Apsaras_, resounded here and there with (the warbling of) birds--the _chakora_, the _chakrabaka_, the _jibajibaka_ and the cuckoo and the _Bhringaraja_, and abounding with shady trees, soft with the touch of snow and pleasing to the eye and mind, and bearing perennial fruits and flowers. And he beheld mountain streams with waters glistening like the _lapis lazuli_ and with ten thousand snow-white ducks and swans and with forests of _deodar_ trees forming (as it were) a trap for the clouds; and with _tugna_ and _kalikaya_ forests, interspersed with yellow sandal trees. And he of mighty strength, in the pursuit of the chase, roamed in the level and desert tracts of the mountain, piercing his game with unpoisoned arrows. In that forest the famous and mighty Bhimasena, possessing the strength of a hundred elephants, killed (many) large wild boars, with the force (of his arms). And endowed with terrible prowess and mighty strength, and powerful as the lion or the tiger, and capable of resisting a hundred men, and having long arms, and possessing the strength of a hundred elephants, he killed many antelopes and wild boars and buffaloes. And here and there, in that forest he pulled out trees by the roots, with great violence and broke them too, causing the earth and the woods and the (surrounding) places to resound. And then shouting and trampling on the tops of mountains, and causing the earth to resound with his roars, and striking his arms, and uttering his war-cry, and slapping and clapping his hands, Bhimasena, exempt from decay, and ever-proud and without fear, again and again leaped about in those woods. And on hearing the shouts of Bhimasena, powerful lions and elephants of huge strength, left their lairs in fright. And in that same forest, he fearlessly strolled about in search of game; and like the denizens of the woods, that most valiant of men, the mighty Bhimasena, wandered on foot in that forest. And he penetrated the vast forest, shouting strange whoops, and terrifying all creatures, endowed with strength and prowess. And then being terrified, the snakes hid (themselves) in caves, but he, overtaking them with promptitude, pursued them slowly. Then the mighty Bhimasena, like unto the Lord of the Celestials, saw a serpent of colossal proportions, living in one of the mountain fastnesses and covering the (entire) cave with its body and causing one's hair to stand on end (from fright). It had its huge body stretched like a hillock, and it possessed gigantic strength, and its body was speckled with spots and it had a turmeric-like (yellow) colour and a deep copper-coloured mouth of the form of a cave supplied with four teeth; and with glaring eyes, it was constantly licking the corners of its mouth. And it was the terror of all animated beings and it looked like the very image of the Destroyer Yama; and with the hissing noise of its breath it lay as if rebuking (an in-comer). And seeing Bhima draw so near to him, the serpent, all on a sudden, became greatly enraged, and that goat-devouring snake violently seized Bhimasena in his grip. Then by virtue of the boon that had been received by the serpent, Bhimasena with his body in the serpent's grip, instantly lost all consciousness. Unrivalled by that of others, the might of Bhimasena's arms equaled the might of ten thousand elephants combined. But Bhima, of great prowess, being thus vanquished by the snake, trembled slowly, and was unable to exert himself. And that one of mighty arms and of leonine shoulders, though possessed of strength of ten thousand elephants, yet seized by the snake, and overpowered by virtue of the boon, lost all strength. He struggled furiously to extricate himself, but did not succeed in any wise baffling this (snake)." SECTION CLXXVIII Vaisampayana continued, "And the powerful Bhimasena, having thus come under the power of the snake, thought of its mighty and wonderful prowess; and said unto it, 'Be thou pleased to tell me, O snake, who thou art. And, O foremost of reptiles, what wilt thou do with me? I am Bhimasena, the son of Pandu, and next by birth to Yudhishthira the just. And endued as I am with the strength of ten thousand elephants, how hast thou been able to overpower me? In fight have been encountered and slain by me innumerable lions, and tigers, and buffaloes, and elephants. And, O best of serpents, mighty _Rakshasas_ and _Pisachas_, and _Nagas_, are unable to stand the force of my arms. Art thou possessed of any magic, or hast thou received any boon, that although exerting myself, I have been overcome by thee? Now I have been convinced that the strength of men is false, for, O serpent, by thee hath such mighty strength of men been baffled.'" Vaisampayana continued, "When the heroic Bhima of noble deed had said this, the snake caught him, and coiled him all round with his body, having thus subdued that mighty-armed one, and freed his plump arms alone, the serpent spake these words, 'By good fortune it is that, myself being hungry, after long time the gods have to-day destined thee for my food; for life is dear unto every embodied being, I should relate unto thee the way in which I have come by this snake form. Hear, O best of the pious, I have fallen into this plight on account of the wrath of the _Maharshis_. Now desirous of getting rid of the curse, I will narrate unto thee all about it. Thou hast, no doubt, heard of the royal sage, _Nahusha_. He was the son of Ayu, and the perpetuator of the line of thy ancestors. Even I am that one. For having affronted the _Brahmanas_ I, by (virtue of) Agastya's malediction, have come by this condition. Thou art my agnate, and lovely to behold.--so thou shouldst not be slain by me,--yet I shall to-day devour thee! Do thou behold the dispensation of Destiny! And be it a buffalo, or an elephant, none coming within my reach at the sixth division of the day, can, O best of men, escape. And, O best of the Kurus, thou hast not been taken by an animal of the lower order, having strength alone,--but this (hath been so) by reason only of the boon I have received. As I was falling rapidly from Sakra's throne placed on the front of his palace, I spake unto that worshipful sage (Agastya), "Do thou free me from this curse." Thereat filled with compassion, that energetic one said unto me, "O king, thou shall be freed after the lapse of some time." Then I fell to the earth (as a snake); but my recollection (of former life) did not renounce me. And although it be so ancient, I still recollect all that was said. And the sage said unto me, "That person who conversant with the relation subsisting between the soul and the Supreme Being, shall be able to answer the questions put by thee, shall deliver thee. And, O king, taken by thee, strong beings superior to thee, shall immediately lose their strength." I heard these words of those compassionate ones, who felt attached unto me. And then the Brahmanas vanished. Thus, O highly effulgent one, having become a serpent, I, doing exceedingly sinful acts, live in unclean hell, in expectation of the (appointed) time.' The mighty-armed Bhimasena addressed the serpent, saying, 'I am not angry, O mighty snake,--nor do I blame myself. Since in regard to happiness and misery, men sometimes possess the power of bringing and dismissing them, and sometimes do not. Therefore one should not fret one's mind. Who can baffle destiny by self-exertion? I deem destiny to be supreme, and self-exertion to be of no avail. Smitten with the stroke of destiny, the prowess of my arms lost, behold me to-day fallen unto this condition without palpable cause. But to-day I do not so much grieve for my own self being slain, as I do for my brothers deprived of their kingdom, and exiled into the forest. This Himalaya is inaccessible, and abounds with _Yakshas_ and the _Rakshasas_. And searching about for me, they will be distracted. And hearing that I have been killed, (my brothers) will forego all exertion, for, firm in promise, they have hitherto been controlled by my harsh speech, I being desirous of gaining the kingdom. Or the intelligent Arjuna (alone), being versed in every lore, and incapable of being overcome by gods and _Rakshasas_ and _Gandharvas_, will not be afflicted with grief. That mighty-armed and exceedingly powerful one is able single-handed to speedily pull down from his place even the celestials. What shall I say of the deceitfully gambling son of Dhritarashtra, detested of all men, and filled with haughtiness and ignorance! And I also grieve for my poor mother, affectionate to her sons, who is ever solicitous for our greatness in a large measure than is attained by our enemies. O serpent, the desire that forlorn one had in me will all be fruitless in consequence of my destruction. And gifted with manliness, the twins, Nakula and Sahadeva, following their elder brother (me), and always protected by the strength of my arms, will, owing to my destruction, be depressed and deprived of their prowess, and stricken with grief. This is what I think.' In this way Vrikodara lamented profusely. And being bound by the body of the snake, he could not exert himself. "On the other hand, Kunti's son, Yudhishthira, (seeing) and reflecting on dreadful ill omens, became alarmed. Terrified by the blaze of the points of the horizon, jackals stationing themselves on the right of that hermitage, set up frightful and inauspicious yells. And ugly _Vartikas_ as of dreadful sight, having one wing, one eye, and one leg, were seen to vomit blood, facing the sun. And the wind began to blow dryly, and violently, attracting grits. And to the right all the beasts and birds began to cry. And in the rear the black crows cried, 'Go!' 'Go!' And momentarily his (Yudhishthira's) right arm began to twitch, and his chest and left leg shook (of themselves). And indicating evil his left eye contracted spasmodically. Thereupon, O Bharata, the intelligent Yudhishthira the just, inferring some great calamity (to be imminent), asked Draupadi, saying, 'Where is Bhima?' Thereat Panchali said that Vrikodara had long gone out. Hearing this, that mighty-armed king set out with Dhaumya, after having said unto Dhananjaya, 'Thou shouldst protect Draupadi.' And he also directed Nakula and Sahadeva to protect the _Brahmanas_. And issuing from the hermitage that lord, Kunti's son, following the footprints of Bhimasena, began to search for him in that mighty forest. And on coming to the east, he found mighty leaders of elephant-herds (slain) and saw the earth marked with Bhima's (foot-prints). Then seeing thousands of deer and hundreds of lions lying in the forest, the king ascertained his course. And on the way were scattered trees pulled down by the wind caused by the thighs of that hero endued with the speed of the wind as he rushed after the deer. And proceeding, guided by those marks, to a spot filled with dry winds and abounding in leafless vegetables, brackish and devoid of water, covered with thorny plants and scattered over with gravel, stumps and shrubs and difficult of access and uneven and dangerous, he saw in a mountain cavern his younger brother motionless, caught in the folds of that foremost of snakes." SECTION CLXXIX Vaisampayana continued, "Yudhishthira, finding his beloved brother coiled by the body of the serpent, said these words: 'O son of Kunti, how hast thou come by this misfortune! And who is this best of serpents having a body like unto a mountain mass?' Bhimasena said, 'O worshipful one, this mighty being hath caught me for food. He is the royal sage Nahusha living in the form of a serpent.' Yudhishthira said, 'O longlived one, do thou free my brother of immeasurable prowess; we will give thee some other food which will appease thy hunger.' The serpent said, 'I have got for diet even this son of a king, come to my mouth of himself. Do thou go away. Thou shouldst not stay here. (If thou remainest here) thou too shall be my fare to-morrow. O mighty-armed one, this is ordained in respect of me, that he that cometh unto my place, becometh my food and thou too art in my quarter. After a long time have I got thy younger brother as my food; I will not let him off; neither do I like to have any other food.' Thereat Yudhishthira said, 'O serpent, whether thou art a god, or a demon, or an _Uraga_, do thou tell me truly, it is Yudhishthira that asketh thee, wherefore, O snake, hast thou taken Bhimasena? By obtaining which, or by knowing what wilt thou receive satisfaction, O snake, and what food shall I give thee? And how mayst thou free him.' The serpent said, 'O sinless one, I was thy ancestor, the son of Ayu and fifth in descent from the Moon. And I was a king celebrated under the name of Nahusha. And by sacrifices and asceticism and study of the Vedas and self-restraint and prowess I had acquired a permanent dominion over the three worlds. And when I had obtained such dominion, haughtiness possessed me. And thousands of _Brahmanas_ were engaged in carrying my chair. And intoxicated by supremacy, I insulted those _Brahmanas_. And, O lord of the earth, by Agastya have I been reduced to this pass! Yet, O Pandava, to this day the memory (of my former birth) hath not forsaken me! And, O king, even by the favour of that high-souled Agastya, during the sixth division of the day have I got for meal thy younger brother. Neither will I set him free, nor do I wish for any other food. But if to-day thou answerest the questions put by me, then, I shall deliver Vrikodara!' At this Yudhishthira said, 'O serpent, ask whatever thou listest! I shall, if I can, answer thy questions with the view of gratifying thee, O snake! Thou knowest fully what should be known by _Brahmanas_. Therefore, O king of snakes, hearing (thee) I shall answer thy queries!' "The serpent said, 'O Yudhishthira, say--Who is a _Brahmana_ and what should be known? By thy speech I infer thee to be highly intelligent.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O foremost of serpents, he, it is asserted by the wise, in whom are seen truth, charity, forgiveness, good conduct, benevolence, observance of the rites of his order and mercy is a _Brahmana_. And, O serpent, that which should be known is even the supreme _Brahma_, in which is neither happiness nor misery--and attaining which beings are not affected with misery; what is thy opinion?' "The serpent said, 'O Yudhishthira, truth, charity, forgiveness, benevolence, benignity, kindness and the _Veda_[2] which worketh the benefit of the four orders, which is the authority in matters of religion and which is true, are seen even in the _Sudra_. As regards the object to be known and which thou allegest is without both happiness and misery, I do not see any such that is devoid of these.' [2] In as much as the rites performed by the Sudras have their origin in the Vedas. "Yudhishthira said, 'Those characteristics that are present in a _Sudra_, do not exist in a _Brahmana_; nor do those that are in a _Brahmana_ exist in a _Sudra_. And a _Sudra_ is not a _Sudra_ by birth alone--nor a _Brahmana_ is _Brahmana_ by birth alone. He, it is said by the wise, in whom are seen those virtues is a _Brahmana_. And people term him a Sudra in whom those qualities do not exist, even though he be a _Brahmana_ by birth. And again, as for thy assertion that the object to be known (as asserted by me) doth not exist, because nothing exists that is devoid of both (happiness and misery), such indeed is the opinion, O serpent, that nothing exists that is without (them) both. But as in cold, heat doth not exist, nor in heat, cold, so there cannot exist an object in which both (happiness and misery) cannot exist?' "The serpent said, 'O king, if thou recognise him as a Brahmana by characteristics, then, O long-lived one, the distinction of caste becometh futile as long as conduct doth not come into play.' "Yudhishthira said, 'In human society, O mighty and highly intelligent serpent, it is difficult to ascertain one's caste, because of promiscuous intercourse among the four orders. This is my opinion. Men belonging to all orders (promiscuously) beget offspring upon women of all the orders. And of men, speech, sexual intercourse, birth and death are common. And to this the Rishis have borne testimony by using as the beginning of a sacrifice such expressions as--_of what caste so ever we may be, we celebrate the sacrifice_. Therefore, those that are wise have asserted that character is the chief essential requisite. The natal ceremony of a person is performed before division of the umbilical cord. His mother then acts as its _Savitri_ and his father officiates as priest. He is considered as a _Sudra_ as long as he is not initiated in the _Vedas_. Doubts having arisen on this point, O prince of serpents, Swayambhuba Manu has declared, that the mixed castes are to be regarded as better than the (other) classes, if having gone through the ceremonies of purification, the latter do not conform to the rules of good conduct, O excellent snake! Whosoever now conforms to the rules of pure and virtuous conduct, him have I, ere now, designated as a _Brahmana_.' The serpent replied, 'O Yudhishthira, thou art acquainted with all that is fit to be known and having listened to thy words, how can I (now) eat up thy brother Vrikodara!'" SECTION CLXXX "Yudhishthira said, 'In this world, you are so learned in the _Vedas_ and _Vedangas_; tell me (then), what one should do to attain salvation?' "The serpent replied, 'O scion of the Bharata's race, my belief is that the man who bestows alms on proper objects, speaks kind words and tells the truth and abstains from doing injury to any creature goes to heaven.' "Yudhishthira enquired, 'Which, O snake, is the higher of the two, truth or alms-giving? Tell me also the greater or less importance of kind behaviour and of doing injury to no creature.' "The snake replied, 'The relative merits of these virtues, truth and alms-giving, kind speech and abstention from injury to any creature, are known (measured) by their objective gravity (utility). Truth is (sometimes) more praiseworthy than some acts of charity; some of the latter again are more commendable than true speech. Similarly, O mighty king, and lord of the earth, abstention from doing injury to any creature is seen to be important than good speech and vice-versa. Even so it is, O king, depending on effects. And now, if thou hast anything else to ask, say it all, I shall enlighten thee!' Yudhishthira said, 'Tell me, O snake, how the incorporal being's translation to heaven, its perception by the senses and its enjoyment of the immutable fruits of its actions (here below), can be comprehended.' The snake replied, 'By his own acts, man is seen to attain to one of the three conditions of human existence, of heavenly life, or of birth in the lower animal kingdom. Among these, the man who is not slothful, who injures no one and who is endowed with charity and other virtues, goes to heaven, after leaving this world of men. By doing the very contrary, O king, people are again born as men or as lower animals. O my son, it is particularly said in this connection, that the man who is swayed by anger and lust and who is given to avarice and malice falls away from his human state and is born again as a lower animal, and the lower animals too are ordained to be transformed into the human state; and the cow, the horse and other animals are observed to attain to even the divine state.[3] O my son, the sentient being, reaping the fruits of his actions, thus transmigrates through these conditions; but the regenerate and wise man reposes his soul in the everlasting Supreme Spirit. The embodied spirit, enchained by destiny and reaping the fruits of its own actions, thus undergoes birth after birth but he that has lost touch of his actions, is conscious of the immutable destiny of all born beings.[4]' [3] More literally, the state of the gods. It may appropriately be remarked here that the ordinary Hindu gods, of the post-Vedic period, like the gods of Ancient Greece and Italy, were simply a class of superhuman beings, distinctly contra-distinguished from the Supreme Spirit, the _Paramatman_ or _Parabrahma_. After death, a virtuous man was supposed to be transformed into one of these so-called gods. [4] This is the well-known and popular doctrine of transmigration of souls. "Yudhishthira asked, 'O snake, tell me truly and without confusion how that dissociated spirit becomes cognisant of sound, touch, form, flavour, and taste. O great-minded one, dost thou not perceive them, simultaneously by the senses? Do thou, O best of snakes, answer all these queries!' The snake replied, 'O long-lived one, the thing called _Atman_ (spirit), betaking itself to corporeal tenement and manifesting itself through the organs of sense, becomes duly cognisant of perceptible objects. O prince of Bharata's race, know that the senses, the mind, and the intellect, assisting the soul in its perception of objects, are called _Karanas_. O my son, the eternal spirit, going out of its sphere, and aided by the mind, acting through the senses, the receptacles of all perceptions, successively perceives these things (sound, form, flavour, &c). O most valiant of men, the mind of living creatures is the cause of all perception, and, therefore, it cannot be cognisant of more than one thing at a time. That spirit, O foremost of men, betaking itself to the space between the eyebrows, sends the high and low intellect to different objects. What the _Yogins_ perceive after the action of the intelligent principle by that is manifested the action of the soul.' "Yudhishthira said, 'Tell me the distinguishing characteristics of the mind and the intellect. The knowledge of it is ordained as the chief duty of persons meditating on the Supreme Spirit.' "The snake replied, 'Through illusion, the soul becomes subservient to the intellect. The intellect, though known to be subservient to the soul, becomes (then) the director of the latter. The intellect is brought into play by acts of perception; the mind is self-existent. The Intellect does not cause the sensation (as of pain, pleasure, &c), but the mind does. This, my son, is the difference between the mind and the intellect. You too are learned in this matter, what is your opinion?' "Yudhishthira said, 'O most intelligent one, you have fine intelligence and you know all that is fit to be known. Why do you ask me that question? You knew all and you performed such wonderful deeds and you lived in heaven. How could then illusion overpower you? Great is my doubt on this point.' The snake replied, 'Prosperity intoxicates even the wise and valiant men. Those who live in luxury, (soon) lose their reason. So, I too, O Yudhishthira, overpowered by the infatuation of prosperity, have fallen from my high state and having recovered my self-consciousness, am enlightening thee thus! O victorious king, thou hast done me a good turn. By conversing with thy pious self, my painful curse has been expiated. In days of yore, while I used to sojourn in heaven in a celestial chariot, reveling in my pride, I did not think of anything else, I used to exact tribute from _Brahmarshis, Devas, Yakshas, Gandharvas, Rakshasas, Pannagas_ and all other dwellers of the three worlds. O lord of earth, such was the spell of my eyes, that on whatever creature, I fixed them, I instantly destroyed his power. Thousands of _Brahmarshis_ used to draw my chariot. The delinquency, O king, was the cause of my fall from my high prosperity. Among them, Agastya was one day drawing my conveyance, and my feet came in contact with his body; Agastya then pronounced (this curse) on me, in anger, "Ruin seize thee, do thou become a snake." So, losing my glory, I fell down from that excellent car and while falling, I beheld myself turned into a snake, with head downwards. I thus implored that Brahmana, "May this curse be extinguished, O adorable one! You ought to forgive one who has been so foolish from infatuation." Then he kindly told me this, as I was being hurled down (from heaven), "The virtuous king Yudhishthira will save thee from this curse, and when, O king, horrible sin of pride will be extinguished in thee, thou shalt attain salvation." And I was struck with wonder on seeing (this) power of his austere virtues; and therefore, have I questioned thee about the attributes of the Supreme Spirit and of _Brahmanas_. Truth, charity, self-restraint, penance, abstention from doing injury to any creature, and constancy in virtue, these, O king, and not his race or family connections, are the means, by which a man must always secure salvation. May this brother of thine, the mighty Bhimasena, meet with good luck and may happiness abide with thee! I must go to Heaven again.'" Vaisampayana continued, "So saying, that king, Nahusha, quitted his serpentine form, and assuming his celestial shape he went back to Heaven. The glorious and pious Yudhishthira, too, returned to his hermitage with Dhaumya and his brother Bhima. Then the virtuous Yudhishthira narrated all that, in detail, to the _Brahmanas_ who had assembled (there). On hearing that, his three brothers and all the _Brahmanas_ and the renowned Draupadi too were covered with shame. And all those excellent _Brahmanas_ desiring the welfare of the Pandavas, admonished Bhima for his foolhardiness, telling him not to attempt such things again, and the Pandavas too were greatly pleased at seeing the mighty Bhima out of danger, and continued to live there pleasantly." SECTION CLXXXI (_Markandeya-Samasya Parva_) Vaisampayana said, "While they were dwelling at that place, there set in the season of the rains, the season that puts an end to the hot weather and is delightful to all animated beings. Then the black clouds, rumbling loudly, and covering the heavens and the cardinal points, ceaselessly rained during day and night. These clouds, counted by hundreds and by thousands, looked like domes in the rainy season. From the earth disappeared the effulgence of the sun; its place was taken by the stainless lustre of the lightning; the earth became delightful to all, being overgrown with grass, with gnats and reptiles in their joy; it was bathed with rain and possessed with calm. When the waters had covered all, it could not be known whether the ground was at all even or uneven;--whether there were rivers or trees or hills. At the end of the hot season, the rivers added beauty to the woods being themselves full of agitated waters, flowing with great force and resembling serpents in the hissing sound they made. The boars, the stags and the birds, while the rain was falling upon them began to utter sounds of various kinds which could be heard within the forest tracts. The _chatakas_, the peacocks and the host of male _Kohilas_ and the excited frogs, all ran about in joy. Thus while the Pandavas were roaming about in the deserts and sandy tracts, the happy season of rain, so various in aspect and resounding with clouds passed away. Then set in the season of autumn, thronged with ganders and cranes and full of joy; then the forest tracts were overrun with grass; the river turned limpid; the firmament and stars shone brightly., And the autumn, thronged with beasts and birds, was joyous and pleasant for the magnanimous sons of Pandu. Then were seen nights, that were free from dust and cool with clouds and beautified by myriads of planets and stars and the moon. And they beheld rivers and ponds, adorned with lilies and white lotuses, full of cool and pleasant water. And while roving by the river _Saraswati_ whose banks resembled the firmament itself and were overgrown with canes, and as such abounded in sacred baths, their joy was great. And those heroes who wielded powerful bows, were specially glad to see the pleasant river _Saraswati_, with its limpid waters full to the brim. And, O Janamejaya, the holiest night, that of the full moon in the month of _Kartika_ in the season of autumn, was spent by them while dwelling there! And the sons of Pandu, the best of the descendants of Bharata, spent that auspicious juncture with righteous and magnanimous saints devoted to penance. And as soon as the dark fortnight set in immediately after, the sons of Pandu entered the forest named the Kamyaka, accompanied by Dhananjaya and their charioteers and cooks." SECTION CLXXXII Vaisampayana said, "O son of Kuru, they, Yudhishthira and others, having reached the forest of _Kamyaka_, were hospitably received by hosts of saints and they lived together with Krishna. And while the sons of Pandu were dwelling in security in that place, many _Brahmanas_ came to wait upon them. And a certain _Brahmana_ said, 'He the beloved friend of Arjuna, of powerful arms and possessed of self control, descendant of _Sura_, of a lofty intellect, will come, for, O ye foremost of the descendants of Kuru, Hari knows that ye have arrived here. For, Hari has always a longing for your sight and always seeks your welfare. And Markandeya, who lived very many years devoted to great austerities, given to study and penance, will erelong come and meet you.' And the very moment that he was uttering these words, there was beheld Krishna, coming thitherward upon a car unto which were yoked the horses Saivya and Sugriva,--he the best of those that ride on cars, accompanied by Satyabhama, is like Indra by Sachi, the daughter of Pulaman. And the son of Devaki came, desirous to see those most righteous of the descendants of Kuru. And the sagacious Krishna, having alighted from the car, prostrated himself, with pleasure in his heart, before the virtuous king, in the prescribed way, and also before Bhima, that foremost of powerful men. And he paid his respects to Dhaumya, while the twin brothers prostrated themselves to him. And he embraced Arjuna of the curly hair; and spoke words of solace to the daughter of Drupada. And the descendant of the chief of the Dasaraha tribe, that chastiser of foes, when he saw the beloved Arjuna come near him, having seen him after a length of time, clasped him again and again. And so too Satyabhama also, the beloved consort of Krishna, embraced the daughter of Drupada, the beloved wife of the sons of Pandu. Then these sons of Pandu, accompanied by their wife and priests, paid their respects to Krishna, whose eyes resembled the white lotus and surrounded him on all sides. And Krishna, when united with Arjuna, the son of Pritha, the winner of riches and the terror of the demons assumed a beauty comparable to that of _Siva_, the magnanimous lord of all created beings, when he, the mighty lord, is united with Kartikeya (his son). And Arjuna, who bore a circlet of crowns on his head, gave an account of what had happened to him in the forest to Krishna, the elder brother of Gada. And Arjuna asked, saying, 'How is Subhadra, and her son Abhimanyu?' And Krishna, the slayer of Madhu, having paid his respects in the prescribed form to the son of Pritha, and to the priest, and seating himself with them there, spoke to king Yudhishthira, in words of praise. And he said, 'O king, Virtue is preferable to the winning of kingdoms; it is, in fact, practice of austerities! By you who have obeyed with truth and candour what your duty prescribed, have been won both this world and that to come! First you have studied, while performing religious duties; having acquired in a suitable way the whole science of arms, having won wealth by pursuing the methods prescribed for the military caste, you have celebrated all the time-honoured sacrificial rites. You take no delight in sensual pleasures; you do not act, O lord of men, from motives of enjoyment, nor do you swerve from virtue from greed of riches; it is for this, you have been named the Virtuous King, O son of Pritha! Having won kingdoms and riches and means of enjoyment, your best delight has been charity and truth and practice of austerities, O King, and faith and meditation and forbearance and patience! When the population of Kuru-jangala beheld Krishna outraged in the assembly hall, who but yourself could brook that conduct, O Pandu's son, which was so repugnant both to virtue and usage? No doubt, you will, before long, rule over men in a praiseworthy way, all your desires being fulfilled. Here are we prepared to chastise the Kurus, as soon as the stipulation made by you is fully performed!' And Krishna, the foremost of the _Dasarha_ tribe, then said to Dhaumya and Bhima and Yudhishthira, and the twins and Krishna, 'How fortunate that by your blessing Arjuna the bearer of the coronet, has arrived after having acquired the science of arms!' And Krishna, the leader of the _Dasarha_ tribe, accompanied by friends, likewise spoke to Krishna, the daughter of Yajnasena, saying, 'How fortunate that you are united, safe and secure, with Arjuna, the winner of riches!' And Krishna also said, 'O Krishna, O daughter of Yajnasena, those sons of yours, are devoted to the study of the science of arms, are well-behaved and conduct themselves on the pattern, O Krishna, of their righteous friends. Your father and your uterine brothers proffer them a kingdom and territories; but the boys find no joy in the house of Drupada, or in that of their maternal uncles. Safely proceeding to the land of the Anartas, they take the greatest delight in the study of the science of arms. Your sons enter the town of the _Vrishnis_ and take an immediate liking to the people there. And as you would direct them to conduct themselves, or as the respected Kunti would do, so does Subhadra direct them in a watchful way. Perhaps, she is still more careful of them. And, O Krishna, as Rukmini's son is the preceptor of Aniruddha, of Abhimanyu, of Sunitha, and of Bhanu; so he is the preceptor and the refuge of your sons also! And a good preceptor, would unceasingly give them lessons in the wielding of maces and swords and bucklers, in missiles and in the arts of driving cars and of riding horses, being valiant. And he, the son of Rukmini, having bestowed a very good training upon them, and having taught them the art of using various weapons in a proper way, takes satisfaction at the valorous deeds of your sons, and of Abhimanyu, O daughter of Drupada! And when your son goes out, in pursuit of (out-door) sports, each one of them is followed thither by cars and horses and vehicles and elephants.' And Krishna said to the virtuous king, Yudhishthira, 'The fighting men of the _Dasarha_ tribe, and the _Kukuras_, and the _Andhakas_--let these, O king, place themselves at thy command--let them perform what thou desirest them. O lord of men, let the army of the tribe of Madhus, (resistless) like the wind, with their bows and led by Balarama whose weapon is the plough--let that army, equipped (for war), consisting of horsemen and foot soldiers and horses and cars and elephants, prepare to do your bidding. O son of Pandu! Drive Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, the vilest of sinful men, together with his followers and his hosts of friends to the path betaken by the lord of Saubha, the son of the Earth! You, O ruler of men, are welcome to stick to that stipulation which was made in the assembly-hall--but let the city of Hastina be made ready for you, when the hostile force has been slain by the soldiers of the _Dasarha_ tribe! Having roamed at your pleasure in all those places where you may desire to go, having got rid of your grief and freed from all your sins--you will reach the city of Hastina--the well-known city situated in the midst of a fine territory!'--Then the magnanimous king having been acquainted with the view, thus clearly set forth by Krishna that best of men, and, having applauded the same, and having deliberated, thus spoke with joined palms unto Kesava, 'O Kesava, no doubt, thou art the refuge of the sons of Pandu; for the sons of Pandu have their protector in thee! When the time will come, there is no doubt that thou wilt do all the work just mentioned by thee; and even more than the same! As promised by us, we have spent all the twelve years in lonely forests. O Kesava, having in the prescribed way completed the period for living unrecognised, the sons of Pandu will take refuge in thee. This should be the intention of those that associate with thee, O Krishna! The sons of Pandu swerve not from the path of truth, for the sons of Pritha with their charity and their piety with their people and their wives and with their relations have their protector in thee!'" Vaisampayana said, "O descendant of Bharata, while Krishna, the descendant of the _Vrishnis_ and the virtuous king, were thus talking, there appeared then the saint Markandeya, grown grey in the practise of penances. And he had seen many thousand years of life, was of a pious soul, and devoted to great austerities. Signs of old age he had none; and deathless he was, and endued with beauty and generous and many good qualities. And he looked like one only twenty-five years old. And when the aged saint, who had seen many thousand years of life, came, all the _Brahmanas_ paid their respects to him and so did Krishna together with Pandu's son. And when that wisest saint, thus honoured, took his seat in a friendly way, Krishna addressed him, in accordance with the views of the _Brahmanas_ and of Pandu's sons, thus,-- "'The sons of Pandu, and the _Brahmanas_ assembled here, and the daughter of Drupada, and Satyabhama, likewise myself, are all anxious to hear your most excellent words, O Markandeya! Propound to us the holy stories of events of bygone times, and the eternal rules of righteous conduct by which are guided kings and women and saints!'" Vaisampayana continued, "When they had all taken their seats, Narada also, the divine saint, of purified soul, came on a visit to Pandu's sons. Him also, then, of great soul, all those foremost men of superior intellect, honoured in the prescribed form, by offering water to wash his feet, and the well-known oblation called the _Arghya_. Then the godlike saint, Narada, learning that they were about to hear the speech of Markandeya, expressed his assent to the arrangement. And he, the deathless, knowing what would be opportune, said smilingly, 'O saint of the _Brahmana_ caste, speak what you were about to say unto the sons of Pandu!' Thus addressed, Markandeya, devoted to great austerities, replied, 'Wait a moment. A great deal will be narrated.' Thus addressed, the sons of Pandu, together with those twice-born ones, waited a moment, looking at that great saint, (bright) as the mid-day sun." Vaisampayana continued, "Pandu's son, the king of the Kuru tribe, having observed that the great saint was willing to speak, questioned him with a view to suggesting topics to speak upon, saying, 'You who are ancient (in years), know the deeds of gods and demons, and illustrious saints, and of all the royal ones. We consider you as worthy of being worshipped and honoured; and we have long yearned after your company. And here is this son of Devaki, Krishna, who has come to us on a visit. Verily, when I look at myself, fallen away from happiness, and when I contemplate the sons of Dhritarashtra, of evil life, flourishing in every way, the idea arises in me that it is _man_ who does all acts, good or bad, and that it is _he_ that enjoys the fruit the acts bring forth. How then is god the agent? And, O best of those that are proficient in the knowledge of God, how is it that men's actions follow them? Is it in this world? Or is it in some subsequent existence? And, O best of righteous men among the twice-born, in what way is an embodied animated being joined by his good and evil deeds that seek him out? Is it after death? Or is it in this world? And, O descendant of Bhrigu, is what we experience in this world the result of the acts of this very life? Or will the acts of this life bear fruit in the world to come? And where do the actions of an animated being who is dead find their resting place?' "Markandeya said, 'O best of those that can speak, this question befits thee, and is just what it should be. Thou knowest all that there is to know. But thou art asking this question, simply for the sake of form. Here I shall answer thee: listen to me with an attentive mind, as to how in this world and in that to come, a man experienceth happiness and misery. The lord of born beings, himself sprung first of all, created, for all embodied beings, bodies which were stainless, pure, and obedient to virtuous impulses, O wisest of the descendants of Kuru! The ancient men had all their desires fulfilled, were given to praiseworthy courses of life, were speakers of truth, godly and pure. All were equal to the gods, could ascend to the sky at their pleasure, and could come back again; and all went about at their pleasure. And they had their death and their life also under their own control; and they had few sufferings; had no fear; and had their wishes fulfilled; and they were free from trouble; could visit the gods and the magnanimous saints; knew by heart all righteous rules; were self-controlled and free from envy. And they lived many thousand years; and had many thousand sons. Then in course of time they came to be restricted to walking solely on the surface of the earth, overpowered by lust and wrath, dependent for subsistence upon falsehood and trick, overwhelmed by greed and senselessness. Then those wicked men, when disembodied, on account of their unrighteous and unblessed deeds, went to hell in a crooked way. Again and again, they were grilled, and, again and again they began to drag their miserable existence in this wonderful world. And their desires were unfulfilled, the objects unaccomplished, and their knowledge became unavailing. And their senses were paralysed and they became apprehensive of everything and the cause of other people's sufferings. And they were generally marked by wicked deeds, and born in low families; they became wicked and afflicted with diseases, and the terror of others. And they became short-lived and sinful and they reaped the fruit of their terrible deeds. And coveting everything, they became godless and indifferent in mind, O son of Kunti! The destiny of every creature after death is determined by his acts in this world. Thou hast asked me where this treasure of acts of the sage and the ignorant remain, and where they enjoy the fruit of their good and evil deeds! Do thou listen to the regulations on this subject! Man with his subtle original body created by God lays up a great store of virtue and vice. After death he quits his frail (outer) body and is immediately born again in another order of beings. He never remains non-existent for a single moment. In his new life his actions follow him invariably as shadow and, fructifying, makes his destiny happy or miserable. The wise man, by his spiritual insight, knows all creatures to be bound to an immutable destiny by the destroyer and incapable of resisting the fruition of his actions in good or evil fortune. This, O Yudhishthira, is the doom of all creatures steeped in spiritual ignorance. Do thou now hear of the perfect way attained by men of high spiritual perception! Such men are of high ascetic virtue and are versed in all profane and holy writ, diligent in performing their religious obligations and devoted to truth. And they pay due homage to their preceptors and superiors and practise Yoga, are forgiving, continent and energetic and pious and are generally endowed with every virtue. By the conquest of the passions, they are subdued in mind; by practising _yoga_ they become free from disease, fear and sorrow; they are not troubled (in mind). In course of birth, mature or immature, or while ensconced in the womb, in every condition, they with spiritual eyes recognize the relation of their soul to the supreme Spirit. Those great-minded _Rishis_ of positive and intuitive knowledge passing through this arena of actions, return again to the abode of the celestials. Men, O king, attain what they have in consequence of the grace of the gods of Destiny or of their own actions. Do thou not think otherwise. O Yudhishthira, I regard that as the highest good which is regarded so in this world. Some attain happiness in this world, but not in the next; others do so in the next, but not in this. Some, again, attain happiness in this as well as in the next world; and others neither here nor in the next world. Those that have immense wealth, shine every day with well-decorated persons. O slayer of mighty foes, being addicted to carnal pleasures, they enjoy happiness only in this world, but not in the next. But those who are engaged in spiritual meditations and the study of the Vedas, who are diligent in asceticism, and who impair the vigour of their bodies by performing their duties, who have subdued their passions, and who refrain from killing any animated being, those men, O slayer of thy enemies, attain happiness in the next world, but not in this! Those who first live a pious life, and virtuously acquire wealth in due time and then marry and perform sacrifices, attain bliss both in this and the next world. Those foolish men again who do not acquire knowledge, nor are engaged in asceticism or charity or increasing their species, or in encompassing the pleasures and enjoyments of this world, attain bliss neither in this nor in the next world. But all of you are proficient in knowledge and possessed of great power and strength and celestial vigour. For the extermination (of the wicked) and for serving the purposes of the gods, ye have come from the other world and have taken your birth in this! Ye, who are so valiant, and engaged in asceticism, self-restraining exercises, and religious ordinances, and fond of exertion, after having performed great deeds and gratified the gods and _Rishis_ and the _Pitris_, ye will at last in due course attain by your own acts the supreme region--the abode of all virtuous men! O ornament of Kuru's race, may no doubts cross thy mind on account of these thy sufferings, for this affliction is for thy good!'" SECTION CLXXXIII Vaisampayana continued,--"The sons of Pandu said to the high-souled Markandeya, 'We long to hear of the greatness of the _Brahmanas_. Do thou tell us of it!' Thus asked, the revered Markandeya, of austere virtue and high spiritual energy, and proficient in all departments of knowledge, replied, 'A strong-limbed, handsome young prince of the race of the Haihayas, a conqueror of hostile cities, (once) went out hunting. And (while) roaming in the wilderness of big trees and thickets of grass, he saw, at no great distance from him, a _Muni_ with the skin of a black antelope for his upper garment, and killed him for a deer. Pained at what he had done, and his senses paralysed with grief, he repaired to the presence of the more distinguished of the _Haihaya_ chiefs. The lotus-eyed prince related to them the particulars. On hearing the account, O my son, and beholding the body of the _Muni_ who had subsisted on fruits and roots, they were sorely afflicted in mind. And they all set out enquiring here and there as they proceeded, as to whose son the _Muni_ might be. And they soon after reached the hermitage of Arishtanemi, son of Kasyapa. And saluting that great _Muni_, so constant in austerity, they all remained standing, while the _Muni_, on his part, busied himself about their reception. And they said unto the illustrious _Muni_, "By a freak of destiny, we have ceased to merit thy welcome: indeed, we have killed a Brahmana!" And the regenerate _Rishi_ said to them, "How hath a Brahmana come to be killed by you, and say where may be he? Do ye all witness the power of my ascetic practices!" And they, having related everything to him as it had happened went back, but found not the body of the dead _Rishi_ on the spot (where they had left it). And having searched for him, they returned, ashamed and bereft of all perception, as in a dream. And then, O thou conqueror of hostile cities, the _Muni_ Tarkshya, addressed them, saying, "Ye princes, can this be the Brahmana of your killing? This Brahmana, endowed with occult gifts from spiritual exercises, is, indeed, my son!" Seeing that _Rishi_, O lord of the earth, they were struck with bewilderment. And they said, "What a marvel! How hath the dead come to life again? Is it the power of his austere virtue by which he hath revived again? We long to hear this, O Brahmana, if, indeed, it can be divulged?" To them, he replied, "Death, O lords of men, hath no power over us! I shall tell ye the reason briefly and intelligibly. We perform our own sacred duties; therefore, have we no fear of death; we speak well of _Brahmanas_ but never think any ill of them; therefore hath death no terror for us. Entertaining our guests with food and drink, and our dependants with plenty of food, we ourselves (then) partake of what is left; therefore we are not afraid of death. We are peaceful and austere and charitable and forbearing and fond of visiting sacred shrines, and we live in sacred places; therefore we have no fear of death. And we live in places inhabited by men who have great spiritual power; therefore hath death no terror for us. I have briefly told ye all! Return ye now all together, cured of all worldly vanity. Ye have no fear of sin!" Saying _amen_, O foremost scion of Bharata's race, and saluting the great _Muni_, all those princes joyously returned to their country.'" SECTION CLXXXIV "Markandeya continued, 'Do ye again hear from me the glory of the _Brahmanas_! It is said that a royal sage of the name of _Vainya_ was once engaged in performing the horse-sacrifice and that Atri desired to go to him for alms. But Atri subsequently gave up his desire of wealth, from religious scruples. After much thought he, of great power, became desirous of living in the woods, and, calling his wife and sons together, addressed them thus, "Let us attain the highly tranquil and complete fruition of our desires. May it, therefore, be agreeable to you to repair quickly to the forest for a life of great merit." His wife, arguing from motives of virtue also then said to him, "Hie thee to the illustrious prince Vainya, and beg of him vast riches! Asked by thee, that royal sage, engaged in sacrifice will give thee wealth. Having gone there, O regenerate _Rishi_, and received from him vast wealth, thou canst distribute it among thy sons and servants and then thou canst go whithersoever thou pleasest. This, indeed, is the higher virtue as instanced by men conversant with religion." Atri replied, "I am informed, O virtuous one, by the high-souled Gautama, that Vainya is a pious prince, devoted to the cause of truth; but there are _Brahmanas_ (about his persons) who are jealous of me; and as Gautama hath told me this, I do not venture to go there, for (while) there, if I were to advise what is good and calculated to secure piety and the fulfilment of one's desires, they would contradict me with words unproductive of any good. But I approve of any counsel and will go there; Vainya will give me kine and hoards of riches."' "Markandeya continued, 'So saying, he, of great ascetic merit, hastened to Vainya's sacrifice and reaching the sacrificial altar and making his obeisance to the king and praising him with well-meaning speeches, he spoke these words, "Blessed art thou, O king! Ruling over the earth, thou art the foremost of sovereigns! The _Munis_ praise thee, and besides thee there is none so versed in religious lore!" To him the _Rishi_ Gautama, of great ascetic merit, then indignantly replied saying, "Atri, do not repeat this nonsense. (It seems) thou art not in thy proper senses. In this world of ours, Mahendra the lord of all created beings (alone) is the foremost of all sovereigns!" Then, O, great prince, Atri said to Gautama, "As Indra, the lord of all creatures, ruleth over our destinies, so doth this king! Thou art mistaken. It is thou who hast lost thine senses from want of spiritual perception!" Gautama replied, "I know I am not mistaken; it is thou who art labouring under a misconception in this matter. To secure the king's countenance, thou art flattering him in (this) assembly of the people. Thou dost not know what the highest virtue, nor dost thou feel the need for it. Thou art like a child steeped in ignorance, for what then hast thou become (so) old in years?"' "Markandeya continued, 'While those two men were thus disputing in the presence of the _Munis_, who were engaged in Vainya's sacrifice the latter enquired, "What is the matter with them, that maketh them talk so vociferously?" Then the very pious Kasyapa learned in all religious lore, approaching the disputants asked them what was the matter. And then Gautama, addressing that assembly of great _Munis_ said, "Listen, O great _Brahmanas_, to the point in dispute between us. Atri hath said that Vainya is the ruler of our destinies; great is our doubt on this point."' "Markandeya continued, 'On hearing this, the great-mind _Munis_ went instantly to Sanatkumara who was well versed in religion to clear their doubt. And then he of great ascetic merit, having heard the particulars from them addressed them these words full of religious meaning. And Sanatkumara said, "As fire assisted by the wind burneth down forests, so a Brahmana's energy in union with a Kshatriya's or a Kshatriya's joined with a Brahmana's destroyeth all enemies. The sovereign is the distinguished giver of laws and the protector of his subjects. He is (a protector of created beings) like Indra, (a propounder of morals) like Sukra, (a counsellor) like Vrihaspati and (hence he is also called) the ruler of men's destinies. Who does not think it proper to worship the individual of whom such terms as 'preserver of created beings,' 'royal,' 'emperor,' 'Kshatriya' (or saviour of the earth), 'lord of earth,' 'ruler of men,' are applied in praise? The king is (also) styled the prime cause (of social order, as being the promulgator of laws), 'the virtuous in wars,' (and therefore, preserver after peace), 'the watchman,' 'the contented,' 'the lord,' 'the guide to salvation,' 'the easily victorious,' 'the Vishnu like,' 'of effective wrath,' 'the winner of battles' and 'the cherisher of the true religion.' The _Rishis_, fearful of sin, entrusted (the temporal) power to the Kshatriyas. As among the gods in heaven the Sun dispelleth darkness by his effulgence, so doth the king completely root out sin from this earth. Therefore is the king's greatness deduced from the evidences of the sacred books, and we are bound to pronounce for that side which hath spoken in favour of the king."' "Markandeya continued, 'Then that illustrious prince, highly pleased with the victorious party, joyfully said to Atri, who had praised him erewhile, "O regenerate _Rishi_, thou hast made and styled me the greatest and most excellent of men here, and compared me to the gods; therefore, shall I give thee vast and various sorts of wealth. My impression is that thou art omniscient. I give thee, O well-dressed and well-adorned one, a hundred millions of gold coins and also ten _bharas_ of gold." Then Atri, of high austere virtues and great spiritual powers, thus welcomed (by the king), accepted all the gifts without any breach of propriety, and returned home. And then giving his wealth to his sons and subduing his self, he cheerfully repaired to the forest with the object of performing penances.'" SECTION CLXXXV "Markandeya continued, 'O thou conqueror of hostile cities, in this connection Saraswati too, when interrogated by that intelligent _Muni_ Tarkshya, had said (this). Do thou listen to her words! Tarkshya had asked, saying, "Excellent lady, what is the best thing for a man to do here below, and how must he act so that he may not deviate from (the path of) virtue. Tell me all this, O beautiful lady, so that instructed by thee, I may not fall away from the path of virtue! When and how must one offer oblations to the (sacred) fire and when must he worship so that virtue may not be compromised? Tell me all this, O excellent lady, so that I may live without any passions, craving, or desire, in this world."' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus questioned by that cheerful _Muni_ and seeing him eager to learn and endued with high intelligence, Saraswati addressed these pious and beneficial words to the Brahmana, Tarkshya.' "'Saraswati said, "He who is engaged in the study of the _Vedas_, and with sanctity and equanimity perceives the supreme Godhead in his proper sphere, ascends the celestial regions and attains supreme beatitude with the Immortals. Many large, beautiful, pellucid and sacred lakes are there, abounding with fish, flowers, and golden lilies. They are like shrines and their very sight is calculated to assuage grief. Pious men, distinctively worshipped by virtuous well-adorned golden-complexioned _Apsaras_, dwell in contentment on the shores of those lakes. He who giveth cows (to Brahmanas) attaineth the highest regions; by giving bullocks he reacheth the solar regions, by giving clothes he getteth to the lunar world, and by giving gold he attaineth to the state of the Immortals. He who giveth a beautiful cow with a fine calf, and which is easily milked and which doth not run away, is (destined) to live for as many years in the celestial regions as there are hairs on the body of that animal. He who giveth a fine, strong, powerful, young bullock, capable of drawing the plough and bearing burdens, reacheth the regions attained by men who give ten cows. When a man bestoweth a well-caparisoned _kapila_ cow with a brazen milk-pail and with money given afterwards, that cow becoming, by its own distinguished qualities, a giver of everything reacheth the side of the man who gave her away. He who giveth away cows, reapeth innumerable fruits of his action, measured by the hairs on the body of that animal. He also saveth (from perdition) in the next world his sons and grandsons and ancestors to the seventh generation. He who presenteth to a Brahmana, sesamum made up in the form of a cow, having horns made of gold, with money besides, and a brazen milk-pail, subsequently attaineth easily to the regions of the _Vasus_. By his own acts man descends into the darksome lower regions, infested by evil spirits (of his own passions) like a ship tossed by the storm in the high seas; but the gift of kine to Brahmanas saves him in the next world. He who giveth his daughter in marriage, in the _Brahma_ form, who bestoweth gifts of land on Brahmanas and who duly maketh other presents, attaineth to the regions of Purandara. O Tarkshya, the virtuous man who is constant in presenting oblations to the sacred fire for seven years, sanctifieth by his own action seven generations up and down." "'Tarkshya said, "O beautiful lady, explain to me who ask thee, the rules for the maintenance of the sacred fire as inculcated in the _Vedas_. I shall now learn from thee the time-honoured rules for perpetually keeping up the sacred fire."'" SECTION CLXXXVI "Then Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, said to the Brahmana, Markandeya, 'Do thou now narrate the history of Vaivaswata Manu.' "Markandeya replied, 'O king, O foremost of men, there was a powerful and great _Rishi_ of the name of Manu. He was the son of Vivaswan and was equal unto _Brahma_ in glory. And he far excelled his father and grandfather in strength, in power, in fortune, as also in religious austerities. And standing on one leg and with uplifted hand, that lord of men did severe penance in the jujube forest called Visala. And there with head downwards and with steadfast eyes he practised the rigid and severe penance for ten thousand years. And one day, whilst he was practising austerities there with wet clothes on and matted hair on head, a fish approaching the banks of the Chirini, addressed him thus, "Worshipful sir, I am a helpless little fish, I am afraid of the large ones; therefore, do thou, O great devotee, think it worth thy while to protect me from them; especially as this fixed custom is well established amongst us that the strong fish always preys upon the weak ones. Therefore do thou think it fit to save me from being drowned in this sea of terrors! I shall requite thee for thy good offices." On hearing these words from the fish, Vaivaswata Manu was overpowered with pity and he took out the fish from the water with his own hands. And the fish which had a body glistening like the rays of the moon when taken out of the water was put back in an earthen water-vessel. And thus reared that fish O king, grew up in size and Manu tended it carefully like a child. And after a long while, it became so large in size, that there was no room for it in that vessel. And then seeing Manu (one day), it again addressed these words to him, "Worshipful sir, do thou appoint some better habitation for me." And then the adorable Manu, the conqueror of hostile cities, took it out of that vessel and carried it to a large tank and placed it there. And there again the fish grew for many a long year. And although the tank was two _yojanas_ in length and one _yojana_ in width, even there, O lotus-eyed son of Kunti and ruler of men, was no room for the fish to play about! And beholding Manu it said again, "O pious and adorable father, take me to the Ganga, the favourite spouse of the Ocean so that I may live there; or do as thou listest. O sinless one, as I have grown to this great bulk by thy favour I shall do thy bidding cheerfully." Thus asked the upright and continent and worshipful Manu took the fish to the river Ganga and he put it into the river with his own hands. And there, O conqueror of thy enemies, the fish again grew for some little time and then beholding Manu, it said again, "O lord, I am unable to move about in the Ganga on account of my great body; therefore, worshipful sir, do thou please take me quickly to the sea!" O son of Pritha, Manu then taking it out of the Ganga, carried it to the sea and consigned it there. And despite its great bulk, Manu transported it easily and its touch and smell were also pleasant to him. And when it was thrown into the sea by Manu, it said these words to him with a smile, "O adorable being, thou hast protected me with special care; do thou now listen to me as to what thou shouldst do in the fulness of time! O fortunate and worshipful sir, the dissolution of all this mobile and immobile world is nigh at hand. The time for the purging of this world is now ripe. Therefore do I now explain what is good for thee! The mobile and immobile divisions of the creation, those that have the power of locomotion, and those that have it not, of all these the terrible doom hath now approached. Thou shall build a strong massive ark and have it furnished with a long rope. On that must thou ascend, O great _Muni_, with the seven _Rishis_ and take with thee all the different seeds which were enumerated by regenerate Brahmanas in days of yore, and separately and carefully must thou preserve them therein. And whilst there, O beloved of the _Munis_, thou shall wait for me, and I shall appear to thee like a horned animal, and thus, O ascetic, shall thou recognise me! And I shall now depart, and thou shall act according to my instructions, for, without my assistance, thou canst not save thyself from that fearful flood." Then Manu said unto the fish, "I do not doubt all that thou hast said, O great one! Even so shall I act!" And giving instructions to each other, they both went away. And Manu then, O great and powerful king and conqueror of thy enemies, procured all the different seeds as directed by the fish, and set sail in an excellent vessel on the surging sea. And then, O lord of the earth, he bethought himself of that fish. And the fish too, O conqueror of thy enemies and foremost scion of Bharata's race, knowing his mind, appeared there with horns on his head. And then, O tiger among men, beholding in the ocean that horned fish emerging like a rock in the form of which he had been before appraised, he lowered the ropy noose on its head. And fastened by the noose, the fish, O king and conqueror of hostile cities, towed the ark with great force through the salt waters. And it conveyed them in that vessel on the roaring and billow beaten sea. And, O conqueror of thy enemies and hostile cities, tossed by the tempest on the great ocean, the vessel reeled about like a drunken harlot. And neither land nor the four cardinal points of the compass, could be distinguished. And there was water every where and the waters covered the heaven and the firmament also. And, O bull of Bharata's race, when the world was thus flooded, none but Manu, the seven _Rishis_ and the fish could be seen. And, O king, the fish diligently dragged the boat through the flood for many a long year and then, O descendant of Kuru and ornament of Bharata's race, it towed the vessel towards the highest peak of the Himavat. And, O Bharata, the fish then told those on the vessel to tie it to the peak of the Himavat. And hearing the words of the fish they immediately tied the boat on that peak of the mountain and, O son of Kunti and ornament of Bharata's race, know that that high peak of the Himavat is still called by the name of _Naubandhana_ (the harbour). Then the fish addressing the associated _Rishis_ told them these words, "I am Brahma, the Lord of all creatures; there is none greater than myself. Assuming the shape of a fish, I have saved you from this cataclysm. Manu will create (again) all beings--gods, _Asuras_ and men, all those divisions of creation which have the power of locomotion and which have it not. By practicing severe austerities he will acquire this power, and with my blessing, illusion will have no power over him." "'So saying the fish vanished instantly. And Vaivaswata Manu himself became desirous of creating the world. In this work of creation illusion overtook him and he, therefore, practised great asceticism. And endowed with ascetic merit, Manu, O ornament of Bharata's race, again set about his work of creating all beings in proper and exact order. This story which I have narrated to thee and the hearing of which destroyeth all sin, is celebrated as the Legend of the Fish. And the man who listeneth every day to this primeval history of Manu, attaineth happiness and all other objects of desire and goeth to heaven.'" SECTION CLXXXVII "Then the virtuous king Yudhishthira in all humility again enquired of the illustrious Markandeya, saying, 'O great _Muni_, thou hast seen many thousands of ages pass away. In this world there is none so longlived as thou! O best of those that have attained the knowledge of Supreme Spirit, there is none equal to thee in years except the great-minded _Brahma_ living in the most exalted place. Thou, O Brahmana, worshippest _Brahma_ at the time of the great dissolution of the universe, when this world is without sky and without the gods and _Danavas_. And when that cataclysm ceaseth and the Grandsire awaketh, thou alone, O regenerate _Rishi_, beholdest _Brahma_ duly re-create the four orders of beings after having filled the cardinal points with air and consigned the waters to their proper place. Thou, O great Brahmana, hast worshipped in his presence the great Lord and Grandsire of all creatures with soul rapt in meditation and entirely swallowed up in Him! And, O Brahmana, thou hast many a time witnessed with thy eyes, the primeval acts of creation, and, plunged in severe ascetic austerities, thou hast also surpassed the _Prajapatis_ themselves! Thou art esteemed as one who is nearest to Narayana, in the next world. Many a time in days of yore hast thou beheld the Supreme Creator of the universe with eyes of spiritual abstraction and renunciation, having first opened thy pure and lotus-like heart--the only place where the multiform Vishnu of universal knowledge may be seen! It is for this, O learned _Rishi_, by the grace of God neither all-destroying Death, nor dotage that causeth the decay of the body, hath any power over thee! When neither the sun, nor the moon, nor fire, nor earth, nor air, nor sky remains, when all the world being destroyed looketh like one vast ocean, when the _Gods_ and _Asuras_ and the great _Uragas_ are annihilated, and when the great-minded _Brahma_, the Lord of all creatures, taking his seat on a lotus flower, sleepeth there, then thou alone remainest to worship him! And, O best of Brahman as thou hast seen all this that occurred before, with thy own eyes. And thou alone hast witnessed many things by the senses, and never in all the worlds hath there been any thing unknown to thee! Therefore do I long to hear any discourse explaining the causes of things!' "Markandeya replied, 'Indeed, I shall explain all, after having bowed down to that Self-existent, Primordial Being, who is eternal and undeteriorating and inconceivable, and who is at once vested with and divested of attributes. O tiger among men, this Janardana attired in yellow robes is the grand Mover and Creator of all, the Soul and Framer of all things, and the lord of all! He is also called the Great, the Incomprehensible, the Wonderful and the Immaculate. He is without beginning and without end, pervades all the world, is Unchangeable and Undeteriorating. He is the Creator of all, but is himself uncreate and is the Cause of all power. His knowledge is greater than that of all the gods together. O best of kings and pre-eminent of men, after the dissolution of the universe, all this wonderful creation again comes into life. Four thousand years have been said to constitute the _Krita Yuga_. Its dawn also, as well as its eve, hath been said to comprise four hundred years. The _Treta-Yuga_ is said to comprise three thousand years, and its dawn, as well as its eve, is said to comprise three hundred years. The _Yuga_ that comes next is called _Dwapara_, and it hath been computed to consist of two thousand years. Its dawn, as well as its eve, is said to comprise two hundred years. The next _Yuga_, called _Kali_, is said to comprise one thousand years and its dawn, as well as eve, is said to comprise one hundred years. Know, O king, that the duration of the dawn is the same as that of the eve of a _Yuga_. And after the _Kali Yuga_ is over, the _Krita Yuga_ comes again. A cycle of the _Yugas_ thus comprised a period of twelve thousand years. A full thousand of such cycles would constitute a _day of Brahma_. O tiger among men, when all this universe is withdrawn and ensconced within its home--the Creator himself--that disappearance of all things is called by the learned to be Universal Destruction. O bull of the Bharata race, towards the end of the last mentioned period of one thousand years, i.e., when the period wanted to complete a cycle is short, men generally become addicted to falsehood in speech. O son of Pritha, then sacrifices and gifts and vows, instead of being performed by principals are suffered to be performed by representatives! Brahmanas then perform acts that are reserved for the _Sudras_, and the _Sudras_ betake themselves to the acquisition of wealth. Then Kshatriyas also betake themselves to the practice of religious acts. In the _Kali_ age, the Brahmanas also abstain from sacrifices and the study of the Vedas, are divested of their staff and deer-skin, and in respect of food become omnivorous. And, O son, the Brahmanas in that age also abstain from prayers and meditation while the Sudras betake themselves to these! The course of the world looketh contrary, and indeed, these are the signs that foreshadow the Universal Destruction. And, O lord of men, numerous _Mleccha_ kings then rule over the earth! And those sinful monarchs, addicted to false speech, govern their subjects on principles that are false. The _Andhhas_, the _Sakas_, the _Pulindas_, the _Yavanas_, the _Kamvojas_, the _Valhikas_ and the _Abhiras_, then become, O best of men, possessed of bravery and the sovereignty of the earth. This, O tiger among men, becometh the state of the world during the eve, O Bharata, of the _Kali_ age! Not a single Brahmana then adhereth to the duties of his order. And the Kshatriyas and the Vaisyas also, O monarch, follow practices contrary to those that are proper for their own orders. And men become short-lived, weak in strength, energy, and prowess; and endued with small might and diminutive bodies, they become scarcely truthful in speech. And the human population dwindles away over large tracts of country, and the regions of the earth, North and South, and East and West, become crowded with animals and beasts of prey. And during this period, they also that utter _Brahma_, do so in vain. The _Sudras_ address _Brahmanas_, saying, _Bho_, while the Brahmanas address Sudras, saying _Respected Sir_. And, O tiger among men, at the end of the _Yuga_, animals increase enormously. And, O king, odours and perfumes do not then become so agreeable to our sense of scent, and, O tiger among men, the very tastes of things do not then so well accord with our organs of taste as at other periods! And, O king, women then become mothers of numerous progeny, endued with low statures, and destitute of good behaviour and good manners. And they also make their very mouths serve the purposes of the organ of procreation. And famine ravages the habitations of men, and the highways are infested by women of ill fame, while females in general, O king, become at such periods hostile to their lords and destitute of modesty! And, O king, the very kine at such periods yield little milk, while the trees, sat over with swarms of crows, do not produce many flowers and fruits. And, O lord of the earth, regenerate classes, tainted with the sin of slaying Brahmanas, accept gifts from monarchs that are addicted to falsehood in speech. And filled with covetousness and ignorance, and bearing on their persons the outward symbols of religion, they set out on eleemosynary rounds, afflicting the people of the Earth. And people leading domestic lives, afraid of the burden of taxes, become deceivers, while Brahmanas, falsely assuming the garb of ascetics, earn wealth by trade, with nails and hair unpared and uncut. And, O tiger among men, many of the twice-born classes become, from avarice of wealth, religious mendicants of the _Brahmacharin_ order. And, O monarch, men at such periods behave contrary to the _modes_ of life to which they betake themselves, and addicted to intoxicating drinks and capable of violating the beds of their preceptors, their desires are all of this world, pursuing matters ministering to the flesh and the blood. And O tiger among men, at such period the asylums of ascetics become full of sinful and audacious wretches ever applauding lives of dependence. And the illustrious chastiser of Paka never showers rain according to the seasons and the seeds also that are scattered on earth, do not, O Bharata, all sprout forth. And men, unholy in deed and thought, take pleasure in envy and malice. And, O sinless one, the earth then becometh full of sin and immorality. And, O lord of the earth, he that becometh virtuous at such periods doth not live long. Indeed, the earth becometh reft of virtue in every shape. And, O tiger among men, the merchants and traders then full of guile, sell large quantities of articles with false weights and measures. And they that are virtuous do not prosper; while they that are sinful proper exceedingly. And virtue loseth her strength while sin becometh all powerful. And men that are devoted to virtue become poor and short-lived; while they that are sinful become long-lived and win prosperity. And in such times, people behave sinfully even in places of public amusements in cities and towns. And men always seek the accomplishment of their ends by means that are sinful. And having earned fortunes that are really small they become intoxicated with the pride of wealth. And O monarch, many men at such periods strive to rob the wealth that hath from trust been deposited with them in secrecy. And wedded to sinful practices, they shamelessly declare--_there is nothing in deposit_. And beasts of prey and other animals and fowl may be seen to lie down in places of public amusement in cities and towns, as well as in sacred edifices. And, O king girls of seven or eight years of age do then conceive, while boys of ten or twelve years beget offspring. And in their sixteenth year, men are overtaken with decrepitude and decay and the period of life itself is soon outrun. And O king, when men become so short-lived, more youths act like the aged; while all that is observable in youth may be noticed in the old. And women given to impropriety of conduct and marked by evil manners, deceive even the best of husbands and forget themselves with menials and slaves and even with animals. And O king, even women that are wives of heroes seek the companionship of other men and forget themselves with these during the life-time of their husbands. "'O king, towards the end of those thousands of years constituting the four _Yugas_ and when the lives of men become so short, a drought occurs extending for many years. And then, O lord of the earth, men and creatures endued with small strength and vitality, becoming hungry die by thousands. And then, O lord of men, seven blazing Suns, appearing in the firmament, drink up all the waters of the Earth that are in rivers or seas. And, O bull of the Bharata race, then also everything of the nature of wood and grass that is wet to dry, is consumed and reduced to ashes. And then, O Bharata, the fire called _Samvartaka_ impelled by the winds appeareth on the earth that hath already been dried to cinders by the seven Suns. And then that fire, penetrating through the Earth and making its appearance, in the nether regions also, begetteth great terror in the hearts of the _gods_, the _Danavas_ and the _Yakshas_. And, O lord of the earth, consuming the nether regions as also everything upon this Earth that fire destroyeth all things in a moment. And that fire called _Samvartaka_ aided by that inauspicious wind, consumeth this world extending for hundreds and thousands of _yojanas_. And that lord of all things, that fire, blazing forth in effulgence consumeth this universe with gods and _Asuras_ and _Gandharvas_ and _Yakshas_ and _Snakes_ and _Rakshasas_. And there rise in the sky deep masses of clouds, looking like herds of elephants and decked with wreaths of lightning that are wonderful to behold. And some of those clouds are of the hue of the blue lotus; and some are of the hue of the water-lily; and some resemble in tint the filaments of the lotus and some are purple and some are yellow as turmeric and some of the hue of the crows' egg. And some are bright as the petals of the lotus and some red as vermillion. And some resemble palatial cities in shape and some herds of elephants. And some are of the form of lizards and some of crocodiles and sharks. And, O king, the clouds that gather in the sky on the occasion are terrible to behold and wreathed with lightnings, roar frightfully. And those vapoury masses, charged with rain, soon cover the entire welkin. And, O king, those masses of vapour then flood with water the whole earth with her mountains and forests and mines. And, O bull among men, urged by the Supreme Lord those clouds roaring frightfully, soon flood over the entire surface of the earth. And pouring in a great quantity of water and filling the whole earth, they quench that terrible inauspicious fire (of which I have already spoken to thee). And urged by the illustrious Lord those clouds filling the earth with their downpour shower incessantly for twelve years. And then, O Bharata, the Ocean oversteps his continents, the mountains sunder in fragments, and the Earth sinks under the increasing flood. And then moved on a sudden by the impetus of the wind, those clouds wander along the entire expanse of the firmament and disappear from the view. And then, O ruler of men, the Self-create Lord--the first Cause of everything--having his abode in the lotus, drinketh those terrible winds and goeth to sleep, O Bharata! "'And then when the universe become one dead expanse of water, when all mobile and immobile creatures have been destroyed, when the _gods_ and the _Asuras_ cease to be, when the _Yakshas_ and the _Rakshasas_ are no more, when man is not, when trees and beasts of prey have disappeared, when the firmament itself has ceased to exist, I alone, O lord of the earth, wander in affliction. And, O best of kings, wandering over that dreadful expanse of water, my heart becometh afflicted in consequence of my not beholding any creature! And, O king, wandering without cessation, through that flood, I become fatigued, but I obtain no resting place! And some time after I behold in that expanse of accumulated waters a vast and wide-extending banian tree, O lord of earth! And I then behold, O Bharata, seated on a conch, O king, overlaid with a celestial bed and attached to a far-extended bough of that banian, a boy, O great king, of face fair as the lotus or the moon, and of eyes, O ruler of men, large as petals of a full blown lotus! And at this sight, O lord of earth, wonder filled my heart. And I asked myself, "How doth this boy alone sit here when the world itself hath been destroyed?" And, O king, although I have full knowledge of the Past, the Present, and the Future, still I failed to learn anything of this by means of even ascetic meditation. Endued with the lustre of the _Atasi_ flower, and decked with the mark of _Sreevatsa_, he seemed to me to be like the abode of _Lakshmi_, herself. And that boy, of eyes like the petals of the lotus, having the mark of _Sreevatsa_, and possessed of blazing effulgence, then addressed me in words highly pleasant to the ear, saying, "O sire, I know thee to be fatigued and desirous of rest. O Markandeya of Bhrigu's race, rest thou here as long as thou wishest. O best of _Munis_, entering within my body, rest thou there. That hath been the abode assigned to thee by me. I have been pleased with thee." Thus addressed by that boy, a sense of total disregard possessed me in respect both of my long life and state of manhood. Then that boy suddenly opened his mouth, and as fate would have it, I entered his mouth deprived of the power of motion. But O king, having suddenly entered into the stomach of that boy, I behold there the whole earth teeming with cities and kingdoms. And, O best of men, while wandering through the stomach of that illustrious one, I behold the Ganga, the Satudru, the Sita, the Yamuna, and the Kausiki; the Charmanwati, the Vetravati; the Chandrabhaga, the Saraswati, the Sindhu, the Vipasa, and the Godavari; the Vaswokasara, the Nalini and the Narmada; the Tamra, and the Venna also of delightful current and sacred waters; the Suvenna, the Krishna-venna, the Irama, and the Mahanadi; the Vitasti, O great king, and that large river, the Cavery; the one also, O tiger among men, the Visalya, and the Kimpuna also. I beheld all these and many other rivers that are on the earth! And, O slayer of foes, I also beheld there the ocean inhabited by alligators and sharks, that mine of gems, that excellent abode of waters. And I beheld there the firmament also, decked with the Sun and the Moon, blazing with effulgence, and possessed of lustre of fire of the Sun. And I beheld there, O king, the earth also, graced with woods and forests. And, O monarch, I beheld there many Brahmanas also, engaged in various sacrifices; and the Kshatriyas engaged in doing good to all the orders; and the Vaisyas employed in pursuits in agriculture; and the Sudras devoted to the service of the regenerate classes. And, O king, while wandering through the stomach of that high-souled one, I also beheld the Himavat and the mountains of Hemakuta. And I also saw Nishada, and the mountains of Sweta abounding in silver. And, O king, I saw there the mountain Gandhamadana, and, O tiger among men, also Mandara and the huge mountains of Nila. And, O great king, I saw there the golden mountains of Meru and also Mahendra and those excellent mountains called the Vindhyas. And I beheld there the mountains of Malaya and of Paripatra also. These and many other mountains that are on earth were all seen by me in his stomach. And all these were decked with jewels and gems. And, O monarch, while wandering through his stomach, I also beheld lions and tigers and boars and, indeed, all other animals that are on earth, O great king! O tiger among men, having entered his stomach, as I wandered around, I also beheld the whole tribe of the _gods_ with their chief Sakra, the _Sadhyas_, the _Rudras_, the _Adityas_, the _Guhyakas_, the _Pitris_, the _Snakes_ and the _Nagas_, the feathery tribes, the _Vasus_, the _Aswins_, the _Gandharvas_, the _Apsaras_, the _Yakshas_, the _Rishis_, the hordes of the _Daityas_ and the _Danavas_, and the _Nagas_ also, O king, and the sons of _Singhika_ and all the other enemies of the gods; indeed what else of mobile and immobile creatures may be seen on earth, were all seen by me, O monarch, within the stomach of that high-souled one. And, O lord, living upon fruits I dwelt within his body for many centuries wandering over the entire universe that is there. Never did I yet, O king, behold the limits of his body. And when, O lord of earth, I failed to measure the limits of that high-souled one's body, even though I wandered within him continuously in great anxiety of mind, I then, in thought and deed sought the protection of that boon-giving and pre-eminent Deity, duly acknowledging his superiority. And when I had done this, O king, I was suddenly projected (from within his body) through that high-souled one's open mouth by means, O chief of men, of a gust of wind. And, O king, I then beheld seated on the branch of that very banian that same Being of immeasurable energy, in the form of a boy with the mark of _Sreevatsa_ (on his breast) having, O tiger among men, swallowed up the whole universe. And that boy of blazing effulgence and bearing the mark of _Sreevatsa_ and attired in yellow robes, gratified with me, smilingly addressed me, saying, "O Markandeya, O best of _Munis_, having dwelt for some time within my body, thou hast been fatigued! I shall however speak unto thee." And as he said this to me, at that very moment I acquired a new sight, so to speak, in consequence of which I beheld myself to be possessed of true knowledge and emancipated from the illusions of the world. And, O child, having witnessed the inexhaustible power of that Being of immeasurable energy, I then worshipped his revered and well-shaped feet with soles bright as burnished copper and well-decked with toes of mild red hue, having placed them carefully on my head and joining my palms in humility and approaching him with reverence. I beheld that Divine Being who is the soul of all things and whose eyes are like the petals of the lotus. And having bowed unto him with joined hands I addressed him saying, "I wish to know thee, O Divine Being, as also this high and wonderful illusion of thine! O illustrious one, having entered into thy body through thy mouth, I have beheld the entire universe in thy stomach! O Divine Being, the gods, the _Danavas_ and the _Rakshasas_, the _Yakshas_, the _Gandharvas_, and the _Nagas_, indeed, the whole universe mobile and immobile, are all within thy body! And though I have ceaselessly wandered through thy body at a quick pace, through thy grace, O God, my memory faileth me not. And, O great lord, I have come out of thy body at thy desire but not of mine! O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, I desire to know thee who art free from all faults! Why dost thou stay here in the form of a boy having swallowed up the entire universe? It behoveth thee to explain all this to me. Why, O sinless one, is the entire universe within thy body? How long also, O chastiser of foes, wilt thou stay here? Urged by a curiosity that is not improper for Brahmanas, I desire, O Lord of all the gods, to hear all this from thee, O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, with every detail and exactly as it all happens, for all I have seen, O Lord, is wonderful and inconceivable!" And thus addressed by me, that deity of deities, of blazing effulgence and great beauty, that foremost of all speakers consoling me properly, spoke unto me these words.'" SECTION CLXXXVIII "Markandeya continued, 'The Deity then said, "O Brahmana, the gods even do not know me truly! As however, I have been gratified with thee, I will tell thee how I created the universe! O regenerate _Rishi_, thou art devoted to thy ancestors and hast also sought my protection! Thou hast also beheld me with thy eyes, and thy ascetic merit also is great! In ancient times I called the waters by the name of _Nara_; and because the waters have ever been my _ayana_ or home, therefore have I been called _Narayana_ (the _water-homed_). O best of regenerate ones, I am _Narayana_, the Source of all things, the Eternal, the Unchangeable. I am the Creator of all things, and the Destroyer also of all. I am Vishnu, I am Brahma and I am Sakra, the chief of the gods. I am king Vaisravana, and I am Yama, the lord of the deceased spirits. I am Siva, I am Soma, and I am Kasyapa the lord of the created things. And, O best of regenerate ones, I am he called _Dhatri_, and he also that is called _Vidhatri_, and I am Sacrifice embodied. Fire is my mouth, the earth my feet, and the Sun and the Moon are my eyes; the Heaven is the crown of my head, the firmament and the cardinal points are my ears; the waters are born of my sweat. Space with the cardinal points are my body, and the Air is my mind. I have performed many hundreds of sacrifices with gifts in profusion. I am always present in the sacrifices of the gods; and they that are cognisant of the _Vedas_ and officiate therein, make their offerings to me. On earth the Kshatriya chiefs that rule over men, in performing their sacrifices from desire of obtaining heaven, and the Vaisyas also in performing theirs from desire of winning those happy regions, all worship me at such times and by those ceremonials. It is I who, assuming the form of Sesha support (on my head) this earth bounded by the four seas and decked by Meru and Mandara. And O regenerate one, it is I who, assuming the form of a boar, had raised in days of yore this earth sunk in water. And, O best of Brahmanas, it is I who, becoming the fire that issues out of the _Equine mouth_, drink up the waters (of the ocean) and create them again. In consequence of my energy from my mouth, my arms, my thighs, and my feet gradually sprang Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras. It is from me that the _Rik_, the _Sama_, the _Yajus_, and the _Atharvan_ Vedas spring, and it is in me that they all enter when the time cometh. Brahmanas devoted to asceticism, they that value Peace as the highest attribute, they that have their souls under complete control, they that are desirous of knowledge, they that are freed from lust and wrath and envy, they that are unwedded to things of the earth, they that have their sins completely washed away, they that are possessed of gentleness and virtue, and are divested of pride, they that have a full knowledge of the Soul, all worship me with profound meditation. I am the flame known as _Samvartaka_, I am the Wind called by that name, I am the Sun wearing that appellation, and I am the fire that hath that designation. And, O best of Brahmanas, those things that are seen in the firmament as stars, know them to be the pores of my skin. The ocean--those mines of gems and the four cardinal points, know, O Brahmana, are my robes, my bed, and my home. By me have they been distributed for serving the purposes of the gods. And, O best of men, know also that lust, wrath, joy, fear, and the over-clouding of the intellect, are all different forms of myself. And, O Brahmana, whatever is obtained by men by the practice of truth, charity, ascetic austerities, and peace and harmlessness towards all creatures, and such other handsome deeds, is obtained because of my arrangements. Governed by my ordinance, men wander within my body, their senses overwhelmed by me. They move not according to their will but as they are moved by me. Regenerate Brahmanas that have thoroughly studied the _Vedas_, that have tranquillity in their souls, they that have subdued their wrath, obtain a high reward by means of their numerous sacrifices. That reward, however, is unattainable by men that are wicked in their deeds, overwhelmed by covetousness, mean and disreputable with souls unblessed and impure. Therefore, must thou know, O Brahmana that this reward which is obtained by persons having their souls under control and which is unobtainable by the ignorant and the foolish,--this which is attainable by asceticism alone,--is productive of high merit. And, O best of men, at those times when virtue and morality decrease and sin and immorality increase, I create myself in new forms. And, O _Muni_, when fierce and malicious _Daityas_ and _Rakshasas_ that are incapable of being slain by even the foremost of the gods, are born on earth, I then take my birth in the families of virtuous men, and assuming human body restore tranquillity by exterminating all evils. Moved by my own _maya_, I create gods and men, and _Gandharvas_ and _Rakshasas_, and all immobile things and then destroy them all myself (when the time cometh). For the preservation of rectitude and morality I assume a human form, and when the season for action cometh, I again assume forms that are inconceivable. In the _Krita_ age I become white, in the _Treta_ age I become yellow, in the _Dwapara_ I have become red and in the _Kali_ age I become dark in hue. In the _Kali_ age, the proportion of immorality becometh three-fourths, (a fourth only being that of morality). And when the end of the _Yuga_ cometh, assuming the fierce form of Death, alone I destroy all the three worlds with their mobile and immobile existences. With three steps, I cover the whole Universe; I am the Soul of the universe; I am the source of all happiness; I am the humbler of all pride; I am omnipresent; I am infinite; I am the Lord of the senses; and my prowess is great. O Brahmana, alone do I set a-going the wheel of Time; I am formless; I am the Destroyer of all creatures; and I am the cause of all efforts of all my creatures. O best of _Munis_, my soul completely pervadeth all my creatures, but, O foremost of all regenerate ones, no one knoweth me. It is me that the pious and the devoted worship in all the worlds. O regenerate one, whatever of pain thou hast felt within my stomach, know, O sinless one, that all that is for thy happiness and good fortune. And whatever of mobile and immobile objects thou hast seen in the world, everything hath been ordained by my Soul which is the Spring of all existence. The grandsire of all creatures is half my body; I am called Narayana, and I am bearer of the conch-shell, the discus and the mace. O regenerate _Rishi_, for a period measured by a thousand times the length of the _Yugas_, I who am the Universal Soul sleep overwhelming all creatures in insensibility. And, O best of regenerate _Rishis_, I stay here thus for all time, in the form of a boy though I am old, until Brahma waketh up. O foremost of Brahmanas, gratified with thee, I who am _Brahma_ have repeatedly granted thee boons, O thou who art worshipped by regenerate _Rishis_! Beholding one vast expanse of water and seeing that all mobile and immobile creatures have been destroyed, thou wert afflicted with melancholy. I know this, and it is for this that I showed thee the universe (within my stomach). And while thou wert within my body, beholding the entire universe, thou wert filled with wonder and deprived of thy senses. O regenerate _Rishi_, it is for this that thou wert speedily brought out by me through my mouth. I have (now) told thee of that Soul which is incapable of being comprehended by the gods and the _Asuras_. And as long as that great ascetic, the holy Brahma, doth not awake, thou, O regenerate _Rishi_, canst happily and trustfully dwell here. And when that Grandsire of all creatures awaketh up, I will then, O best of Brahmanas, alone create all creatures endued with bodies, the firmament, the earth, light, the atmosphere, water, and indeed all else of mobile and immobile creatures (that thou mayst have seen) on the earth!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Having said so unto me that wonderful Deity vanished, O son, from my sight! I then beheld this varied and wondrous creation start into life. O king, O thou foremost of the Bharata race, I witnessed all this, so wonderful, O thou foremost of all virtuous men, at the end of the _Yuga_! And the Deity, of eyes large as lotus leaves, seen by me, in days of yore is this tiger among men, this Janardana who hath become thy relative! It is in consequence of the boon granted to me by this one that memory doth not fail me, that the period of my life, O son of Kunti, is so long and death itself is under my control. This is that ancient and supreme Lord Hari of inconceivable soul who hath taken his birth as Krishna of the Vrishni race, and who endued with mighty arms, seemeth to sport in this world! This one is _Dhatri_ and _Vidhatri_, the Destroyer of all the Eternal, the bearer of the _Sreevatsa_ mark on his breast, the Lord of the lord of all creatures, the highest of the high, called also Govinda! Beholding this foremost of all gods, this ever-victorious Being, attired in yellow robes, this chief of the Vrishni race, my recollection cometh back to me! This Madhava is the father and mother of all creatures! Ye bulls of the Kuru race, seek ye the refuge of this Protector!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, the sons of Pritha and those bulls among men--the twins, along with Draupadi, all bowed down unto Janardana. And that tiger among men deserving of every respect thus revered by the sons of Pandu, then consoled them all with words of great sweetness." SECTION CLXXXIX Vaisampayana said "Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, once more asked the great _Muni_ Markandeya about the future course of the government of the Earth. "And Yudhishthira said, 'O thou foremost of all speakers, O _Muni_ of Bhrigu's race, that which we have heard from thee about the destruction and re-birth of all things at the end of the _Yuga_, is, indeed, full of wonder! I am filled with curiosity, however, in respect of what may happen in the _Kali_ age. When morality and virtue will be at an end, what will remain there! What will be the prowess of men in that age, what their food, and what their amusements? What will be the period of life at the end of the _Yuga_? What also is the limit, having attained which the _Krita_ age will begin anew? Tell me all in detail, O _Muni_, for all that thou narratest is varied and delightful.' "Thus addressed, that foremost of _Munis_ began his discourse again, delighting that tiger of the Vrishni race and the sons of Pandu as well. And Markandeya said, 'Listen, O monarch, to all that hath been seen and heard by me, and to all, O king of kings, that hath been known to me by intuition from the grace of the God of gods! O bull of the Bharata race, listen to me as I narrate the future history of the world during the sinful age. O bull of the Bharata race, in the _Krita_ age, everything was free from deceit and guile and avarice and covetousness; and morality like a bull was among men, with all the four legs complete. In the _Treta_ age sin took away one of these legs and morality had three legs. In the _Dwapara_, sin and morality are mixed half and half; and accordingly morality is said to have two legs only. In the dark age (_of Kali_), O thou best of the Bharata race, morality mixed with three parts of sin liveth by the side of men. Accordingly morality then is said to wait on men, with only a fourth part of itself remaining. Know, O Yudhishthira, that the period of life, the energy, intellect and the physical strength of men decrease in every _Yuga_! O Pandava, the Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, (in the _Kali_ age) will practise morality and virtue deceitfully and men in general will deceive their fellows by spreading the net of virtue. And men with false reputation of learning will, by their acts, cause Truth to be contracted and concealed. And in consequence of the shortness of their lives they will not be able to acquire much knowledge. And in consequence of the littleness of their knowledge, they will have no wisdom. And for this, covetousness and avarice will overwhelm them all. And wedded to avarice and wrath and ignorance and lust men will entertain animosities towards one another, desiring to take one another's lives. And Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas with their virtue contracted and divested of asceticism and truth will all be reduced to an equality with the Sudras. And the lowest orders of men will rise to the position of the intermediate ones, and those in intermediate stations will, without doubt, descend to the level of the lowest ones. Even such, O Yudhishthira, will become the state of the world at the end of the _Yuga_. Of robes those will be regarded the best that are made of flax, and of grain the _Paspalum frumentacea_[5] will be regarded the best. Towards this period men will regard their wives as their (only) friends. And men will live on fish and milk, goats and sheep, for cows will be extinct. And towards that period, even they that are always observant of vows, will become covetous. And opposed to one another, men will, at such a time, seek one another's lives; and divested of _Yuga_, people will become atheists and thieves. And they will even dig the banks of streams with their spades and sow grains thereon. And even those places will prove barren for them at such a time. And those men who are devoted to ceremonial rites in honour of the deceased and of the gods, will be avaricious and will also appropriate and enjoy what belongs to others. The father will enjoy what belongs to the son; and the son, what belongs to the father. And those things will also be enjoyed by men in such times, the enjoyment of which hath been forbidden in the scriptures. And the Brahmanas, speaking disrespectfully of the Vedas, will not practise vows, and their understanding clouded by the science of disputation, they will no longer perform sacrifices and the _Homa_. And deceived by the false science of reasons, they will direct their hearts towards everything mean and low. And men will till low lands for cultivation and employ cows and calves that are one year old, in drawing the plough and carrying burthens. And sons having slain their sires, and sires having slain their sons will incur no opprobrium. And they will frequently save themselves from anxiety by such deeds, and even glory in them. And the whole world will be filled with _mleccha_ behaviour and notions and ceremonies, and sacrifices will cease and joy will be nowhere and general rejoicing will disappear. And men will rob the possession of helpless persons, of those that are friendless and of wisdoms also. And, possessed of small energy and strength, without knowledge and given to avarice and folly and sinful practices men will accept with joy the gifts made by wicked people with words of contempt. And, O son of Kunti, the kings of the earth, with hearts wedded to sin without knowledge and always boastful of their wisdom, will challenge one another from desire of taking one another's life. And the Kshatriyas also towards the end of such a period will become the thorns of the earth. And filled with avarice and swelling with pride and vanity and, unable and unwilling to protect (their subjects), they will take pleasure in inflicting punishments only. And attacking and repeating their attacks upon the good and the honest, and feeling no pity for the latter, even when they will cry in grief, the Kshatriyas will, O Bharata, rob these of their wives and wealth. And no one will ask for a girl (for purposes of marriage) and no one will give away a girl (for such purposes), but the girls will themselves choose their lords, when the end of the _Yuga_ comes. And the kings of the earth with souls steeped in ignorance, and discontented with what they have, will at such a time, rob their subjects by every means in their power. And without doubt the whole world will be _mlecchified_.[6] And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, the right hand will deceive the left; and the left, the right. And men with false reputation of learning will contract Truth and the old will betray the senselessness of the young, and the young will betray the dotage of the old. And cowards will have the reputation of bravery and the brave will be cheerless like cowards. And towards the end of the _Yuga_ men will cease to trust one another. And full of avarice and folly the whole world will have but one kind of food. And sin will increase and prosper, while virtue will fade and cease to flourish. And Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas will disappear, leaving, O king, no remnants of their orders. And all men towards the end of the Yuga will become members of one common order, without distinction of any kind. And sires will not forgive sons, and sons will not forgive sires. And when the end approaches, wives will not wait upon and serve their husbands. And at such a time men will seek those countries where wheat and barley form the staple food. And, O monarch, both men and women will become perfectly free in their behaviour and will not tolerate one another's acts. And, O Yudhishthira, the whole world will be _mlecchified_. And men will cease to gratify the gods by offerings of _Sraddhas_. And no one will listen to the words of others and no one will be regarded as a preceptor by another. And, O ruler of men, intellectual darkness will envelop the whole earth, and the life of man will then be measured by sixteen years, on attaining to which age death will ensue. And girls of five or six years of age will bring forth children and boys of seven or eight years of age will become fathers. And, O tiger among kings, when the end of the _Yuga_ will come, the wife will never be content with her husband, nor the husband with his wife. And the possessions of men will never be much, and people will falsely bear the marks of religion, and jealousy and malice will fill the world. And no one will, at that time, be a giver (of wealth or anything else) in respect to any one else. And the inhabited regions of the earth will be afflicted with dearth and famine, and the highways will be filled with lustful men and women of evil repute. And, at such a time, the women will also entertain an aversion towards their husbands. And without doubt all men will adopt the behaviour of the _mlecchas_, become omnivorous without distinction, and cruel in all their acts, when the end of the _Yuga_ will come. And, O thou foremost of the Bharatas, urged by avarice, men will, at that time, deceive one another when they sell and purchase. And without a knowledge of the ordinance, men will perform ceremonies and rites, and, indeed, behave as listeth them, when the end of the _Yuga_ comes. And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, urged by their very dispositions, men will act cruelly, and speak ill of one another. And people will, without compunction, destroy trees and gardens. And men will be filled with anxiety as regards the means of living. And, O king, overwhelmed with covetousness, men will kill Brahmanas and appropriate and enjoy the possessions of their victims. And the regenerate ones, oppressed by Sudras, and afflicted with fear, and crying _Oh_ and _Alas_, will wander over the earth without anybody to protect them. And when men will begin to slay one another, and become wicked and fierce and without any respect for animal life, then will the _Yuga_ come to an end. And, O king, even the foremost of the regenerate ones, afflicted by robbers, will, like crows, fly in terror and with speed, and seek refuge, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, in rivers and mountains and inaccessible regions. And always oppressed by bad rulers with burthens of taxes, the foremost of the regenerate classes, O lord of the earth, will, in those terrible times, take leave of all patience and do improper acts by becoming even the servants of the Sudras. And Sudras will expound the scriptures, and Brahmanas will wait upon and listen to them, and settle their course of duty accepting such interpretations as their guides. And the low will become the high, and the course of things will look contrary. And renouncing the gods, men will worship bones and other relics deposited within walls. And, at the end of the _Yuga_, the Sudras will cease to wait upon and serve the Brahmanas. And in the asylums of great _Rishis_, and the teaching institutions of Brahmanas, and in places sacred to the gods and sacrificial compounds, and in sacred tanks, the earth will be disfigured with tombs and pillars containing bony relics and not graced with temples dedicated to the gods. All this will take place at the end of the _Yuga_, and know that these are the signs of the end of the _Yuga_. And when men become fierce and destitute of virtue and carnivorous and addicted to intoxicating drinks, then doth the _Yuga_ come to an end. And, O monarch, when flowers will be begot within flowers, and fruits within fruits, then will the _Yuga_ come to an end. And the clouds will pour rain unseasonably when the end of the _Yuga_ approaches. And, at that time, ceremonial rites of men will not follow one another in due order, and the Sudras will quarrel with the Brahmanas. And the earth will soon be full of _mlecchas_, and the Brahmanas will fly in all directions for fear of the burthen of taxes. And all distinctions between men will cease as regards conduct and behaviour, and afflicted with honorary tasks and offices, people will fly to woody retreats, subsisting on fruits and roots. And the world will be so afflicted, that rectitude of conduct will cease to be exhibited anywhere. And disciples will set at naught the instructions of preceptors, and seek even to injure them. And preceptors impoverished will be disregarded by men. And friends and relatives and kinsmen will perform friendly offices for the sake of the wealth only that is possessed by a person. And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, everybody will be in want. And all the points of the horizon will be ablaze, and the stars and stellar groups will be destitute of brilliancy, and the planets and planetary conjunctions will be inauspicious. And the course of the winds will be confused and agitated, and innumerable meteors will flash through the sky, foreboding evil. And the Sun will appear with six others of the same kind. And all around there will be din and uproar, and everywhere there will be conflagrations. And the Sun, from the hour of his rising to that of setting, will be enveloped by Rahu. And the deity of a thousand eyes will shower rain unseasonably. And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, crops will not grow in abundance. And the women will always be sharp in speech and pitiless and fond of weeping. And they will never abide by the commands of their husbands. And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, sons will slay fathers and mothers. And women, living uncontrolled, will slay their husbands and sons. And, O king, when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, _Rahu_ will swallow the Sun unseasonably. And fires will blaze up on all sides. And travellers unable to obtain food and drink and shelter even when they ask for these, will lie down on the wayside refraining from urging their solicitations. And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, crows and snakes and vultures and kites and other animals and birds will utter frightful and dissonant cries. And when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, men will cast away and neglect their friends and relatives and attendants. And, O monarch, when the end of the _Yuga_ comes, men abandoning the countries and directions and towns and cities of their occupation, will seek for new ones, one after another. And people will wander over the earth, uttering, "_O father, O son_", and such other frightful and rending cries. [5] The word in the text is _Kora-dushakas_, supposed by Wilson to be the _Paspalum frumentacea_ (_vide_ Dict.). [6] The word in the text is _mlecchibhutam_. The Sanskrit grammar affords a great facility for the formation of verbs from substantives. _Mlecchify_ may be hybrid, but it correctly and shortly signifies the Sanskrit word. "'And when those terrible times will be over, the creation will begin anew. And men will again be created and distributed into the four orders beginning with Brahmanas. And about that time, in order that men may increase, Providence, according to its pleasure, will once more become propitious. And then when the Sun, the Moon, and Vrihaspati will, with the constellation _Pushya_[7], enter the same sign, the _Krita_ age will begin again. And the clouds will commence to shower seasonably, and the stars and stellar conjunctions will become auspicious. And the planets, duly revolving in their orbits, will become exceedingly propitious. And all around, there will be prosperity and abundance and health and peace. And commissioned by Time, a Brahmana of the name of _Kalki_ will take his birth. And he will glorify Vishnu and possess great energy, great intelligence, and great prowess. And he will take his birth in a town of the name of _Sambhala_ in an auspicious Brahmana family. And vehicles and weapons, and warriors and arms, and coats of mail will be at his disposal as soon as he will think of them. And he will be the king of kings, and ever victorious with the strength of virtue. And he will restore order and peace in this world crowded with creatures and contradictory in its course. And that blazing Brahmana of mighty intellect, having appeared, will destroy all things. And he will be the Destroyer of all, and will inaugurate a new _Yuga_. And surrounded by the Brahmanas, that Brahmana will exterminate all the _mlecchas_ wherever those low and despicable persons may take refuge.'" [7] _Pushya_ is the eighth lunar asterism consisting of three stars, of which one is, the Cancer. (Vide Wilson's Diet.). SECTION CLXL "Markandeya continued, 'Having exterminated the thieves and robbers, _Kalki_ will, at a great Horse-sacrifice, duly give away this earth to the Brahmanas, and having established anew the blessed rectitude ordained by the Self-create, _Kalki_, of sacred deeds and illustrious reputation, will enter a delightful forest, and the people of this earth will imitate his conduct, and when the Brahmanas will have exterminated the thieves and robbers, there will be prosperity everywhere (on earth). And as the countries of the earth will one after another be subjugated, that tiger among Brahmanas, _Kalki_, having placed deer skins and lances and tridents there, will roam over the earth, adored by foremost Brahmanas and showing his regard for them and engaged all the while in slaughtering thieves and robbers. And he will exterminate the thieves and robbers amid heart-rending cries of "_Oh, father--Oh, mother!--O son!_" and the like, and O Bharata, when sin will thus have been rooted out and virtue will flourish on arrival of the _Krita_ age, men will once more betake themselves to the practice of religious rites. And in the age that will set in, viz., the _Krita_, well-planted gardens and sacrificial compounds and large tanks and educational centres for the cultivation of Brahmanic lore and ponds and temples will re-appear everywhere. And the ceremonies and rites of sacrifices will also begin to be performed. And the Brahmanas will become good and honest, and the regenerate ones, devoted to ascetic austerities, will become _Munis_ and the asylums of ascetics, which had before been filled with wretches will once more be homes of men devoted to truth, and men in general will begin to honour and practise truth. And all seeds, sown on earth, will grow, and, O monarch, every kind of crop will grow in every season. And men will devotedly practise charity and vows and observances, and the Brahmanas devoted to meditation and sacrifices will be of virtuous soul and always cheerful, and the rulers of the earth will govern their kingdoms virtuously, and in the _Krita_ age, the Vaisyas will be devoted to the practices of their order. And the Brahmanas will be devoted to their six-fold duties (of study, teaching, performance of sacrifices on their own account, officiating at sacrifices performed by others, charity and acceptance of gifts), and the Kshatriyas will be devoted to feats of prowess. And Sudras will be devoted to service of the three (high) orders. "'These, O Yudhishthira, are the courses of the _Krita_, the _Treta_, the _Dwapara_ and the succeeding age. I have now narrated to thee everything. I have also told thee, O son of Pandu, the periods embraced by the several _Yugas_ as generally known. I have now told thee everything appertaining to both the past and the future as narrated by _Vayu_ in the _Parana_ (which goes by his name and) which is adored by the _Rishis_. Being immortal I have many a time beheld and otherwise ascertained the courses of the world. Indeed, all I have seen and felt I have now told thee. And, O thou of unfading glory, listen now with thy brothers to something else I will presently tell thee for clearing thy doubts about religion! O thou foremost of virtuous men, thou shouldst always fix thy soul on virtue, for, O monarch, a person of virtuous soul obtaineth bliss both here and hereafter. And, O sinless one, listen to the auspicious words that I will now speak to thee. _Never do thou humiliate a Brahmana, for a Brahmana, if angry, may by his vow destroy the three worlds._'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Markandeya, the royal head of the Kurus, endued with intelligence and possessed of great lustre, spoke these words of great wisdom, 'O _muni_, if I am to protect my subjects, to what course of conduct should I adhere? And how should I behave so that I may not fall away from the duties of my order?' "Markandeya, hearing this, answered, 'Be merciful to all creatures, and devoted to their good. Love all creatures, scorning none. Be truthful in speech, humble, with passions under complete control, and always devoted to the protection of thy people. Practise virtue and renounce sin, and worship thou the manes and the god and whatever thou mayst have done from ignorance or carelessness, wash them off and expiate them by charity. Renouncing pride and vanity, be thou possessed to humility and good behaviour. And subjugating the whole earth, rejoice thou and let happiness be thine. This is the course of conduct that accords with virtue. I have recited to thee all that was and all that will be regarded as virtuous. There is nothing appertaining to the past or the future that is unknown to thee. Therefore, O son, take not to heart this present calamity of thine. They that are wise are never overwhelmed when they are persecuted by _Time_. O thou of mighty arms, the very dwellers of heaven cannot rise superior to Time. Time afflicts all creatures. O sinless one, let not doubt cross thy mind regarding the truth of what I have told thee, for, if thou sufferest doubt to enter thy heart, thy virtue will suffer diminution! O bull of the Bharata race, thou art born in the celebrated family of the Kurus. Thou shouldst practise that which I have told thee, in thought, word and deed.' "Yudhishthira answered, 'O thou foremost of the regenerate ones, at thy command I will certainly act according to all the instructions thou hast given me, and which, O lord, are all so sweet to the ear. O foremost of Brahmanas, avarice and lust I have none, and neither fear nor pride nor vanity. I shall, therefore, O lord, follow all that thou hast told me.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having listened to the words of the intelligent Markandeya, the sons of Pandu, O king, along with the wielder of the bow called _Saranga_, and all those bulls among Brahmanas, and all others that were there, became filled with joy. And having heard those blessed words appertaining to olden time, from Markandeya gifted with wisdom, their hearts were filled with wonder." SECTION CLXLI Janamejaya said, "It behoveth thee to narrate to me in full the greatness of the Brahmanas even as the mighty ascetic Markandeya had expounded it to the sons of Pandu." Vaisampayana said, "The eldest son of Pandu had asked Markandeya saying, 'It behoveth thee to expound to me the greatness of Brahmanas.' Markandeya answered him saying, 'Hear, O king, about the behaviour of Brahmanas in days of old.' "And Markandeya continued, 'There was a king, by name Parikshit in Ayodhya and belonging to the race of Ikshvaku. And once upon a time Parikshit went a-hunting. And as he was riding alone on a horse chasing deer, the animal led him to a great distance (from the habitations of men). And fatigued by the distance he had ridden and afflicted with hunger and thirst he beheld in that part of the country whither he had been led, a dark and dense forest, and the king, beholding that forest, entered it and seeing a delightful tank within the forest, both the rider and the horse bathed in it, and refreshed by the bath and placing before his horse some stalks and fibres of the lotus, the king sat by the side of the tank. And while he was lying by the side of the tank, he heard certain sweet strains of music, and hearing those strains, he reflected, "I do not see here the foot-prints of men. Whose and whence then these strains?" And the king soon beheld a maiden of great beauty gathering flowers singing all the while, and the maiden soon came before the king, and the king thereupon asked her, "Blessed one, who art thou and whose?" And she replied, "I am a maiden." And the king said, "I ask thee to be mine." And the maiden answered, "Give me a pledge, for then only I can be thine, else not." And the king then asked about the pledge and the girl answered, "Thou wilt never make me cast my eyes on water", and the king saying, "So be it," married her, and king Parikshit having married her sported (with her) in great joy, and sat with her in silence, and while the king was staying there, his troops reached the spot, and those troops beholding the monarch stood surrounding him, and cheered by the presence of troops, the king entered a handsome vehicle accompanied by his (newly) wedded wife. And having arrived at his capital he began to live with her in privacy. And persons that were even near enough to the king could not obtain any interview with him and the minister-in-chief enquired of those females that waited upon the king, asking, "What do ye do here?" And those women replied, "We behold here a female of unrivalled beauty. And the king sporteth with her, having married her with a pledge that he would never show her water." And hearing those words, the minister-in-chief caused an artificial forest to be created, consisting of many trees with abundant flowers and fruits, and he caused to be excavated within that forest and towards one of its sides a large tank, placed in a secluded spot and full of water that was sweet as _Amrita_. The tank was well covered with a net of pearls. Approaching the king one day in private, he addressed the king saying, "This is a fine forest without water. Sport thou here joyfully!" And the king at those words of his minister entered that forest with that adorable wife of his, and the king sported with her in that delightful forest, and afflicted with hunger and thirst and fatigued and spent, the king beheld a bower of Madhavi creepers[8] and entering that bower with his dear one, the king beheld a tank full of water that was transparent and bright as nectar, and beholding that tank, the king sat on its bank with her and the king told his adorable wife, "Cheerfully do thou plunge into this water!" And she, hearing those words plunged into the tank. But having plunged into the water she appeared not above the surface, and as the king searched, he failed to discover any trace of her. And the king ordered the waters of the tank to be baled out, and thereupon he beheld a frog sitting at the mouth of a hole, and the king was enraged at this and promulgated an order saying, "Let frogs be slaughtered everywhere in my dominions! Whoever wishes to have an interview with me must come before me with a tribute of dead frogs." And accordingly when frogs began to be terribly slaughtered, the affrighted frogs represented all that had happened unto their king, and the king of the frogs assuming the garb of an ascetic came before the king Parikshit, and having approached the monarch, he said, "O king, give not thyself up to wrath! Be inclined to grace. It behoveth thee not to slay the innocent frogs." Here occurs a couple of _Slokas_. (They are these):--"O thou of unfading glory, slay not the frogs! Pacify thy wrath! The prosperity and ascetic merits of those that have their souls steeped in ignorance suffer diminution! Pledge thyself not to be angry with the frogs! What need hast thou to commit such sin! What purpose will be served by slaying the frogs!" Then king Parikshit whose soul was filled with woe on account of the death of her that was dear to him, answered the chief of the frogs who had spoken to him thus, "I will not forgive the frogs. On the other hand, I will slay them. By these wicked wretches hath my dear one been swallowed up. The frogs, therefore, always deserve to be killed by me. It behoveth thee not, O learned one, to intercede on their behalf." And hearing these words of Parikshit, the king of the frogs with his senses and mind much pained said, "Be inclined to grace, O king! I am the king of the frogs by name Ayu. She who was thy wife is my daughter of the name of Susobhana. This, indeed, is an instance of her bad conduct. Before this, many kings were deceived by her." The king thereupon said to him, "I desire to have her. Let her be granted to me by thee!" The king of the frogs thereupon bestowed his daughter upon Parikshit, and addressing her said, "Wait upon and serve the king." And having spoken these words to his daughter, he also addressed her in wrath saying, "Since thou hast deceived many Kings for this untruthful behaviour of thine, thy offspring will prove disrespectful to Brahmanas!" But having obtained her, the king became deeply enamoured of her in consequence of her companionable virtues, and feeling that he had, as it were, obtained the sovereignty of the three worlds, he bowed down to the king of the frogs and reverenced him in due form and then with utterance choked in joy and tears said, "I have been favoured indeed!" And the king of the frogs obtaining the leave of his daughter, returned to the place from which he had come and some time after the king begot three sons upon her and those sons were named Sala and Dala and Vala, and some time after, their father, installing the eldest of them of all on the throne and setting his heart on asceticism, retired into the forest. One day Sala while out a-hunting, beheld a deer and pursued it, on his car, and the prince said to his charioteer, "Drive thou fast." And the charioteer, thus addressed, replied unto the king, saying, "Do not entertain such a purpose. This deer is incapable of being caught by thee. If indeed _Vami_ horses had been yoked to thy car, then couldst thou have taken it." Thereupon the king addressed his charioteer, saying, "Tell me all about _Vami_ horses, otherwise I will slay thee." Thus addressed the charioteer became dreadfully alarmed and he was afraid of the king and also of Vamadeva's curse and told not the king anything and the king then lifting up his scimitar said to him, "Tell me soon, else I will slay thee." At last afraid of the king, the charioteer said, "The _Vami_ horses are those belonging to Vamadeva; they are fleet as the mind." And unto his charioteer who had said so, the king said, "Repair thou to the asylum of Vamadeva." And reaching the asylum of Vamadeva the king said unto that _Rishi_, "O holy one, a deer struck by me is flying away. It behoveth thee to make it capable of being seized by me by granting me thy pair of _Vami_ horses." The _Rishi_ then answered him saying, "I give thee my pair of _Vami_ horses. But after accomplishing thy object, my _Vami_ pair you should soon return." The king then taking those steeds and obtaining the leave of the _Rishi_ pursued the deer, having yoked the _Vami_ pair unto his car, and after he had left the asylum he spoke unto his charioteer saying, "These jewels of steeds the Brahmanas do not deserve to possess. These should not be returned to Vamadeva." Having said this and seized the deer he returned to his capital and placed those steeds within the inner apartments of the palace. [8] An Indian creeper of the order of _Goertnera racemosa_. It bears large white flowers of much fragrance. "'Meanwhile the _Rishi_ reflected, "The prince is young. Having obtained an excellent pair of animals, he is sporting with it in joy without returning it to me. Alas, what a pity it is!" And reflecting in this strain, the _Rishi_ said unto a disciple of his, after the expiration of a month, "Go, O Atreya, and say to the king that if he has done with the _Vami_ steeds, he should return them unto thy preceptor." And the disciple Atreya, thereupon, repairing to the king, spoke unto him as instructed, and the king replied saying, "This pair of steeds deserves to be owned by kings. The Brahmanas do not deserve to possess jewels of such value. What business have Brahmanas with horses? Return thou contentedly!" And Atreya, thus addressed by the king, returned and told his preceptor all that had happened, and hearing this sad intelligence, Vamadeva's heart was filled with wrath, and repairing in person to the king he asked him for his steeds, and the king refused to give the _Rishi_ what the latter asked, and Vamadeva said, "O lord of earth, give me thou my _Vami_ horses. By them hast thou accomplished a task which was almost incapable of being accomplished by thee. By transgressing the practices of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, subject not thyself, O king, to death by means of the terrible noose of Varuna." And hearing this, the king answered, "O Vamadeva, this couple of excellent well-trained, and docile bulls are fit animals for Brahmanas. O great _Rishi_, (take them and) go with them wherever thou likest. Indeed, the very _Vedas_ carry persons like thee." Then Vamadeva said, "O king, the _Vedas_ do, indeed, carry persons like us. But that is in the world hereafter. In this world, however, O king, animals like these carry me and persons like me as also all others." At this the king answered, "Let four asses carry thee, or four mules of the best kind, or even four steeds endued with the speed of the wind. Go thou with these. This pair of _Vami_ horses, however, deserves to be owned by Kshatriyas. Know thou, therefore, that these are not thine." At this, Vamadeva said, "O king, terrible vows have been ordained for the Brahmanas. If I have lived in their observance, let four fierce and mighty Rakshasas of terrible mien and iron bodies, commanded by me, pursue thee with desire of slaying, and carry thee on their sharp lances, having cut up thy body into four parts." Hearing this, the king said, "Let those, O Vamadeva, that know thee as a Brahmana that in thought, word, and deed, is desirous of taking life, at my command, armed with bright lances and swords prostrate thee with thy disciples before me." Then Vamadeva answered, "O king, having obtained these my _Vami_ steeds, thou hadst said, '_I will return them_.' Therefore, give me back my _Vami_ steeds, so thou mayst be able to protect thy life." Hearing this, the king said, "Pursuit of deer hath not been ordained for the Brahmanas. I do punish thee, however, for thy untruthfulness. From this day, too, obeying all thy commands I will, O Brahmana, attain to regions of bliss." Vamadeva then said, "A Brahmana cannot be punished in thought, word or deed. That learned person who by ascetic austerities succeedeth in knowing a Brahmana to be so, faileth not to attain to prominence in this world."' "Markandeya continued, 'After Vamadeva had said this, there arose, O king, (four) _Rakshasas_ of terrible mien, and as they, with lances in their hands, approached the king for slaying him, the latter cried aloud, saying, "If, O Brahmana, all the descendants of Ikshvaku's race, if (my brother) Dala, if all these Vaisyas acknowledge my sway, then I will not yield up the _Vami_ steeds to Vamadeva, for these men can never be virtuous." And while he was uttering those words, those _Rakshasas_ slew him, and the lord of earth was soon prostrated on the ground. And the Ikshvakus, learning that their king had been slain, installed Dala on the throne, and the Brahmana Vamadeva thereupon going to the kingdom (of the Ikshvakus), addressed the new monarch, saying, "O king, it hath been declared in all the sacred books that persons should give away unto Brahmanas. If thou fearest sin, O king, give me now the _Vami_ steeds without delay." And hearing these words of Vamadeva, the king in anger spoke unto his charioteer, saying, "Bring me an arrow from those I have kept, which is handsome to behold and tempered with poison, so that pierced by it Vamadeva may lie prostrate in pain, torn by the dogs." Hearing this, Vamadeva answered, "I know, O king, that thou hast a son of ten years of age, called Senajita, begotten upon thy queen. Urged by my word, slay thou that dear boy of thine without delay by means of thy frightful arrows!"' "Markandeya continued, 'At these words of Vamadeva, O king, that arrow of fierce energy, shot by the monarch, slew the prince in the inner apartments, and hearing this, Dala said there and then, "Ye people of Ikshvaku's race, I will do ye good. I shall slay this Brahmana today, grinding him with force. Bring me another arrow of fierce energy. Ye lords of earth, behold my prowess now." And at these words of Dala, Vamadeva said, "This arrow of terrible mien and tempered with poison, that thou aimest at me, thou shall not, O ruler of men, be able to aim nor even to shoot." And thereupon the king said, "Ye men of Ikshvaku's race, behold me incapable of shooting the arrow that hath been taken up by me. I fail to compass the death of this Brahmana. Let Vamadeva who is blessed with a long life live." Then Vamadeva said, "Touching thy queen with this arrow, thou mayst purge thyself of the sin (of attempting to take the life of a Brahmana)." And king Dala did as he was directed and the queen then addressed the _Muni_, and said, "O Vamadeva, let me be able to duly instruct this wretched husband of mine from day to day, imparting unto him words of happy import; and let me always wait upon and serve the Brahmanas, and by this acquire, O Brahmana, the sacred regions hereafter." And hearing these words of the queen, Vamadeva said, "O thou of beautiful eyes, thou hast saved this royal race. Beg thou an incomparable boon. I will grant thee whatever thou mayst ask. And, O thou faultless one, rule thou, O princess, these thy kinsmen and this great kingdom of the Ikshvakus!" And hearing these words of Vamadeva the princess said, "This, O holy one, is the boon I seek, viz., that my husband may now be freed from his sin, and that thou mayst be employed in thinking of the weal of his son and kinsmen. This is the boon that I ask, O thou foremost of Brahmanas!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Hearing these words of the queen, that _Muni_, O thou foremost of the Kuru race, said, "So be it." And thereupon king Dala became highly glad and gave unto the _Muni_ his _Vami_ steeds, having bowed down unto him with reverence!'" SECTION CLXLII Vaisampayana said, "The _Rishis_, the Brahmanas, and Yudhishthira then asked Markandeya, saying, 'How did the _Rishi_ Vaka become so long lived?' "Thus asked by them, Markandeya answered, 'The royal sage Vaka is a great ascetic and endowed with long life. Ye need not enquire into the reason of this.' "Hearing this, O Bharata, the son of Kunti, king Yudhishthira the just, along with his brothers, then asked Markandeya saying, 'It hath been heard by us that both Vaka and Daivya are of great souls and endowed with immortality and that those _Rishis_, held in universal reverence, are the friends of the chief of the gods. O Holy One, I desire to listen to the (history of the) meeting of Vaka and Indra that is full of both joy and woe. Narrate thou that history unto us succinctly.' "Markandeya said, 'When that horrible conflict between the gods and the _Asuras_ was over, Indra became the ruler of the three worlds. The clouds showered rain copiously. And the dwellers of the world had abundance of harvests, and were excellent in disposition. And devoted to virtue, they always practised morality and enjoyed peace. And all persons, devoted to the duties of their respective orders, were perfectly happy and cheerful, and the slayer of Vala, beholding all the creatures of the world happy and cheerful, became himself filled with joy. And he of a hundred sacrifices, the chief of the _gods_ seated on the back of his elephant Airavata, surveyed his happy subjects, and he cast his eyes on delightful asylums of _Rishis_, on various auspicious rivers, towns full of prosperity, and villages and rural regions in the enjoyment of plenty. And he also cast his eyes upon kings devoted to the practice of virtue and well-skilled in ruling their subjects. And he also looked upon tanks and reservoirs and wells and lakes and smaller lakes all full of water and adored by best of Brahmanas in the observance, besides, of various excellent vows, and then descending on the delightful earth, O king, the god of a hundred sacrifices, proceeded towards a blessed asylum teeming with animals and birds, situated by the side of the sea, in the delightful and auspicious regions of the East on a spot overgrown with abundance of vegetation. And the chief of the gods beheld Vaka in that asylum, and Vaka also, beholding the ruler of the Immortals, became highly glad, and he worshipped Indra by presenting him with water to wash his feet, a carpet to sit upon, the usual offering of the _Arghya_, and fruit and roots. And the boon-giving slayer of Vala, the divine ruler of those that know not old age, being seated at his ease, asked Vaka the following question, "O sinless _Muni_, thou hast lived for a hundred years! Tell me, O Brahmana, what the sorrows are of those that are immortal!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Hearing this, Vaka answered, saying, "Life with persons that are disagreeable, separation from those that are agreeable and beloved, companionship with the wicked, these are the evils which they that are immortal have to bear. The death of sons and wives, of kinsmen and friends, and the pain of dependence on others, are some of the greatest of evils. (These may all be noticed in a deathless life). There is no more pitiable sight in the world, as I conceive, than that of men destitute of wealth being insulted by others. The acquisition of family dignity by those that have it not, the loss of family dignity by those that have it, unions and disunions,--these all are noticeable by those that lead deathless lives. How they that have no family dignity but have prosperity, win what they have not--all this, O god of a hundred sacrifices, is before thy very eyes! What can be more pitiable than the calamities and reverses sustained by the gods, the _Asuras_, the _Gandharvas_, men, the snakes, and the _Rakshasas_! They that have been of good families suffer afflictions in consequence of their subjection to persons that are ill-born and the poor are insulted by the rich. What can be more pitiable than these? Innumerable examples of such contradictory dispensations are seen in the world. The foolish and the ignorant are cheerful and happy while the learned and the wise suffer misery! Plentiful instances of misery and woe are seen among men in this world! (They that lead deathless lives are destined to behold all these and suffer on that account.)" "'Indra then said, "O thou of great good fortune, tell me again, what the joys are of those persons that lead deathless lives,--joys that are adored by gods and _Rishis_!" "'Vaka answered, "If without having to associate with a wicked friend, a man cooks scanty vegetables in his own house at the eight or the twelfth part of the day, there can be nothing happier than that.[9] He in whose case the day is not counted is not called voracious. And, O Maghavan, happiness is even his own whose scanty vegetables are cooked. Earned by his own efforts, without having to depend upon any one, he that eateth even fruits and vegetables in his own house is entitled to respect. He that eateth in another's house the food given to him in contempt, even if that food be rich and sweet, doth what is despicable. This, therefore, is the opinion of the wise that fie on the food of that mean wretch who like a dog or a _Rakshasa_ eateth at another's house. If after treating guests and servants and offering food to the manes a good Brahmana eateth what remains, there can be nothing happier than that. There is nothing sweeter or more sacred, O thou of a hundred sacrifices, than that food which such a person takes after serving the guest with the first portion thereof. Each mouthful (of rice) that the Brahmana eats after having served the guest, produces merit equal to what attaches to the gift of a thousand kine. And whatever sins such a one may have committed in his youth are all washed away of a certainty. The water in the hands of the Brahmana that hath been fed and honoured with a pecuniary gift (after the feeding is over) when touched with water (sprinkled by him that feeds), instantly purges off all the sins of the latter!" [9] They, therefore, that lead deathless lives can enjoy this bliss from day to day for ever. "'Speaking of these and various other things with Vaka, the chief of the gods went away to heaven.'"[10] [10] It is difficult to understand how all that Vaka says can be an answer to Indra's question. The chief of the gods enquires: What are the joys of those that lead deathless lives? Vaka breaks away unto a confused rigmarole about the merits of independence and the religious merit of entertaining guests and servants. All the printed editions have the passage as rendered here. SECTION CLXLIII Vaisampayana said, "Then the sons of Pandu again addressed Markandeya saying, 'Thou hast told us of greatness of Brahmanas. We desire now to hear of the greatness of the royal Kshatriyas!" Thus addressed by them, the great _Rishi_ Markandeya spoke, 'Listen now to the greatness of the royal Kshatriyas. A certain king of the name of Suhotra belonging to the Kuru race went on a visit to the great _Rishis_. And as he was returning from that visit, he beheld king Sivi the son of Usinara, seated on his car, and as each came before the other, each saluted the other as best befitted his age and each regarding himself as the equal of the other in respect of qualities, refused to give the way to the other. And at this juncture Narada appeared there, and beholding what had happened, the celestial _Rishi_ asked, "Why is it that ye both stand here blocking each other's way?" And thus questioned both of them spoke to Narada saying, "O holy one, do not speak so. The sages of old have declared that the way should be given to one who is superior or to him that is abler. We, however, that stand blocking each other's way are equal to each other in every respect. Judged properly there is no superiority amongst us." Thus addressed by them, Narada recited three _slokas_. (They are these), "O thou of the Kuru race, he that is wicked behaveth wickedly even unto him that is humble; he also that is humble behaveth with humility and honestly unto him that is wicked! He that is honest behaveth honestly even towards the dishonest. Why should he not behave honestly towards him that is honest? He that is honest regardeth the service that is done to him, as if it were a hundred times greater than it is. Is this not current amongst the gods themselves? Certainly it is the royal son of Usinara who is possessed of goodness that is greater than thine. One should conquer the mean by charity; the untruthful by truth, the man of wicked deeds by forgiveness; and the dishonest by honesty. Both of you are large-hearted. Let one amongst you stand aside, according to the indication of the above _slokas_." And having said so Narada became silent, and hearing what Narada had said the king of the Kuru race walking round _Sivi_, and praising his numerous achievements, gave him the way and went on in his course. It was even thus that Narada had described the high blessedness of the royal Kshatriyas.'" SECTION CLXLIV "Markandeya continued, 'Listen now to another story. One day as king Yayati, the son of Nahusha, was sitting on his throne, surrounded by the citizens, there came unto him a Brahmana desirous of soliciting wealth for his preceptor, and approaching the king, the Brahmana said, "O king, I beg of thee wealth for my preceptor according to my covenant." And the king said, "O Holy One, tell me what thy covenant is." And thereupon the Brahmana said, "O king, in this world when men are asked for alms, they entertain contempt for him that asketh it. I therefore, ask thee, O king, with what feelings thou wilt give me what I ask and upon which I have set my heart." And the king replied saying, "Having given away a thing, I never boast of it. I never also listen to solicitations for things that cannot be given. I listen, however, to prayers for things that can be given and giving them away I always become happy. I will give thee a thousand kine. The Brahmana that asks me for a gift is always dear to me. I am never angry with the person that begs of me and I am never sorry for having given away a thing!" And the Brahmana then obtained from the king a thousand kine and went away.'" SECTION CLXLV Vaisampayana said, "The son of Pandu again addressed the _Rishi_ and said, 'Speak thou unto us of the high fortune of royal Kshatriyas!' And Markandeya said, 'There were two kings of the name of Vrishadarbha and Seduka and both of them were conversant with morals and with weapons of attack and defence. And Seduka knew that Vrishadarbha had from his boyhood an unuttered vow that he would give no other metal unto Brahmanas save gold and silver. And once on a time a Brahmana having completed his study of the _Vedas_ came unto Seduka and uttering a benediction upon him begged of him wealth for his preceptor, saying, "Give me a thousand steeds." And thus addressed, Seduka said unto him, "It is not possible for me to give thee this for thy preceptor. Therefore, go thou unto king Vrishadarbha, for, O Brahmana, he is a highly virtuous king. Go and beg of him. He will grant thy request. Even this is his unuttered vow." Hearing these words that Brahmana went to Vrishadarbha and begged of him a thousand steeds, and the king thus solicited, struck the Brahmana with a whip and thereupon the Brahmana said, "Innocent as I am, why dost thou attack me thus?" And the Brahmana was on the point of cursing the king, when the latter said, "O Brahmana, dost thou curse him that doth not give thee what thou askest? Or, is this behaviour proper for a Brahmana?" And the Brahmana said, "O king of kings, sent unto thee by Seduka, I come before thee for this." The king said, "I will give thee now whatever tribute may come to me before the morning expire. How indeed, can I send away the man empty-handed who hath been whipped by me." And having said this the king gave unto that Brahmana the entire proceeds of that day and that was more than the value of a thousand horses.'" SECTION CLXLVI "Markandeya said, 'One day it was resolved by the gods that they should descend on the earth and try the goodness and virtue of king Sivi, the son of Usinara. And addressing each other,--"_Well_"--Agni and Indra came to the earth. And Agni took the form of a pigeon flying away from Indra who pursued him in the form of a hawk, and that pigeon fell upon the lap of king Sivi who was seated on an excellent seat. And the priest thereupon addressing the king said, "Afraid of the hawk and desirous of saving its life, this pigeon hath come to thee for safety. The learned have said that the falling of a pigeon upon one's body forebodeth a great danger. Let the king that understands omens give away wealth for saving himself from the danger indicated." And the pigeon also addressed the king and said, "Afraid of the hawk and desirous of saving my life I have come to thee for protection. I am a _Muni_. Having assumed the form of a pigeon, I come to thee as a seeker of thy protection. Indeed, I seek thee as my life. Know me as one possessed of Vedic lore, as one leading the _Brahmacharya_ mode of life, as one possessed also of self-control and ascetic virtues. And know me further as one that has never spoken disagreeably unto his preceptor, as one possessed of every virtue indeed, as one that is sinless. I repeat the Vedas, I know their prosody; indeed, I have studied all the Vedas letter by letter. I am not a pigeon. Oh, do not yield me up to the hawk. The giving up of a learned and pure Brahmana can never be a good gift." And after the pigeon said so, the hawk addressed the king, and said, "Creatures do not come into the world in the same particular order. In the order of creation, thou mayst, in a former birth, have been begotten by this pigeon. It is not proper for thee, O king, to interfere with my food by protecting this pigeon (even though he might have been thy father)." And thus addressed, the king said, "Hath any one, before this, seen birds thus speak the pure speech of man? Knowing what this pigeon sayeth, and this hawk also, how can we act to-day according to virtue? He that giveth up an affrighted creature seeking protection, unto its foe, doth not obtain protection when he is in need of it himself. Indeed, the very clouds do not shower rain seasonably for him, and the seeds though scattered do not grow for him. He that giveth up an afflicted creature seeking protection unto its foe, hath to see his offspring die in childhood. The ancestor of such a person can never dwell in heaven; indeed, the very gods decline to accept the libations of clarified butter poured by him into the fire. He that giveth up an affrighted creature seeking protection, unto its foe, is struck with the thunder-bolt by the gods with Indra at their head. The food that he eateth is unsanctified, and he, of a narrow soul, falleth from heaven very soon. O hawk, let the people of the Sivi tribe place before thee a bull cooked with rice instead of this pigeon. And let them also carry to the place where thou livest in joy, meat in abundance." And hearing this, the hawk said, "O king, I do not ask for a bull, nor, indeed, any other meat, nor meat more in quantity than that of this pigeon. It hath been given to me by the gods. The creature, therefore, is my food today in consequence of its death that hath been ordained. Therefore, O monarch, give it up to me." Thus addressed by the hawk, the king said, "Let my men see and carefully carry the bull to thee with every limb entire. Let that bull be the ransom of this creature afflicted with fright and let it be carried to thee before my eyes. Oh, slay not this pigeon! I will yield up my very life, yet I would not give up this pigeon. Dost thou not know, O hawk, that this creature looketh like a sacrifice with the _Soma_ juice? O blessed one, cease to take so much trouble for it. I cannot, by any means, yield up the pigeon to thee. Or, O hawk, if it pleases thee, command me to do some such thing which I may do for thee, which may be agreeable to thee, and upon doing which the men of the Sivi tribe may yet in joy bless me in terms of applause. I promise thee that I will do what thou mayst did me do." And at this appeal of the king, the hawk said, "O king, if thou givest me as much flesh as would be equal to the weight of the pigeon, cutting it off thy right thigh; then can the pigeon be properly saved by thee; then wouldst thou do what would be agreeable to me and what the men of the Sivi tribe would speak of in terms of praise." And the king agreed to this and he cut off a piece of flesh from his right thigh and weighed it against the pigeon. But the pigeon weighed heavier. And thereupon the king cut off another piece of his flesh, but the pigeon still weighed heavier, and then the king cut off pieces of flesh from all parts of his body and placed them on the scale. But the pigeon still weighed heavier, and then the king himself ascended the scale and he felt no grief at this and beholding this, the hawk disappeared there saying--(The pigeon hath been) _Saved_,--And the king asked the pigeon saying, "O pigeon, let the Sivis know who the hawk is. None but the lord of the universe could do as he did. O Holy One, answer thou this question of mine!" And the pigeon then said, "I am the smoke-bannered Agni called also Vaiswanara. The hawk is none other than Sachi's lord armed with the thunder-bolt. O son of Suratha, thou art a bull among men. We came to try thee. These pieces of flesh, O king, that thou hast cut off with thy sword from thy body for saving me have caused gashes in thy body. I will make these marks auspicious and handsome and they will be of the colour of gold and emit a sweet perfume, and earning great fame and respected by the gods and the _Rishis_ thou shall long rule these subjects of thine, and a son will spring from thy flank who shall be called _Kapataroman_. O king, thou shalt obtain this son of the name of _Kapataroman_ from out of thy own body and thou wilt behold him become the foremost of the _Saurathas_, blazing with renown, possessed of bravery and great personal beauty!"'" SECTION CLXLVII Vaisampayana said, "And the son of Pandu once more addressed Markandeya, saying, 'Tell us again of the great good fortune of kings.' And Markandeya said, 'There came unto the horse-sacrifice of king Ashtaka of Viswamitra's race, many kings. And there came unto that sacrifice the three brothers also of that king, viz., Pratardana, Vasumanas, and Sivi, the son of Usinara. And after the sacrifice was completed, Ashtaka was proceeding on his car along with his brothers when they all beheld Narada coming that way and they saluted the celestial _Rishi_ and said unto him, "Ride thou on this car with us." And Narada, saying, _So be it_, mounted on the car, and one among those kings having gratified the holy and celestial _Rishi_ Narada, said, "O Holy One, I desire, to ask thee something." And the _Rishi_ said, "Ask." And the person, thus permitted, said, "All four of us are blessed with long lives and have indeed every virtue. We shall, therefore, be permitted to go to a certain heaven and dwell there for a long period. Who amongst us, however, O king, shall fall down first?" Thus questioned the _Rishi_ said, "This Ashtaka shall first come down." And thereupon the enquirer asked, "For what cause?" And the _Rishi_ answered, "I lived for a few days in the abode of Ashtaka. He carried me (one day) on his car out of the town and there I beheld thousands of kine distinguished from one another by difference of hue. And beholding those kine I asked Ashtaka whose they were and Ashtaka answered me, saying, '_I have given away these kine.' By this answer_ he gave expression to his own praise. It is for this answer of his that Ashtaka shall have to come down." And after Narada had said so, one of them again enquired, saying, "Three of us then will stay in heaven. Amongst us three, who shall fall down first?" And the _Rishi_ answered, "Pratardana." And the enquirer asked, "For what cause?" And the _Rishi_ answered, "I lived for some days in the abode of Pratardana also. And he carried me on his car one day. And while doing so, a Brahmana asked him saying, '_Give me a horse_!' And Pratardana replied, '_After returning, I will give thee one_!' And thereupon the Brahmana said, '_Let it be given to me soon_.' And as the Brahmana spoke those words, the king gave unto him the steed that had been yoked on the right-hand wheel of the car. And there came unto him another Brahmana desirous of obtaining a steed. And the king having spoken to him in the same way, gave him the steed that had been yoked on the left wheel of his car. And having given away the horse unto him, the king proceeded on his journey. And then there came unto the king another Brahmana desirous of obtaining a horse. And the king soon gave him the horse on the left front of his car, unyoking the animal. And having done so, the king proceeded on his journey. And then there came unto the king another Brahmana desirous of obtaining a horse. And the king said unto him, '_Returning, I will give thee a horse_.' But the Brahmana said, '_Let the steed be given to me soon_.' And the king gave him the only horse he had. And seizing the yoke of the car himself, the king began to draw it. And as he did so, he said, '_There is now nothing for the Brahmanas_.' The king had given away, it is true, but he had done so with detraction. And for that speech of his, he shall have to fall down from heaven." And after the _Rishi_ had said so, of the two that remained, one asked, "Who amongst us two shall fall down?" And the _Rishi_ answered, "Vasumanas." And the enquirer asked, "For what reason?" And Narada said, "In course of my wanderings I arrived at the abode of Vasumanas. And at that time the Brahmanas were performing the ceremony of _Swastivachana_ for the sake of a flowery car.[11] And I approached the king's presence. And after the Brahmanas had completed the ceremony, the flowery car became visible to them. And I praised that car, and thereupon the king told me, '_Holy one, by thee hath this car been praised. Let this car, therefore, be thine_.' And after this I went to Vasumanas another time when I was in need of a (flowery) car. And I admired the car, and the king said, '_It is thine_.' And I went to the king a third time and admired the car again. And even then the king exhibiting the flowery car to the Brahmanas, cast his eyes on me, and said, '_O holy one, thou hast praised the flowery car sufficiently_." And the king only said these words, without making me a gift of that car. And for this he will fall down from heaven." [11] The ceremony of _Swastivachana_ is described to be "a religious rite, preparatory to any important observance, in which the Brahmanas strew boiled rice on the ground, and invoke the blessings of the gods on the ceremony about to commence" (_Vide_ Wilson's Diet). A flowery car was, probably, one of celestial make that the kings procured from heaven by performing costly rites and ceremonies. These were sometimes exhibited to the people, and prior to these exhibitions, the ceremony of _Swastivachana_ was performed. "'And one among them said, "Of the one who is to go with thee, who will go and who will fall down?" And Narada answered, saying, "Sivi will go, but I will fall down." "For what reason?" asked the enquirer. And Narada said, "I am not the equal of Sivi. For one day a Brahmana came unto Sivi and addressing him, said, 'O Sivi, I came to thee for food.' And Sivi replied unto him, saying. 'What shall I do? Let me have thy orders.' And the Brahmana answered, 'This thy son known by the name of Vrihadgarbha should be killed. And, O king, cook him for my food.' And hearing this, I waited to see what would follow. And Sivi then killed his son and cooking him duly and placing that food in a vessel and taking it upon his head, he went out in search of the Brahmana and while Sivi was thus seeking, for the Brahmana, some one told him, 'The Brahmana thou seekest, having entered thy city, is setting fire to thy abode and he is also setting fire, in wrath, to thy treasury, thy arsenal, the apartments of the females and thy stables for horses and elephants.' And Sivi heard all this, without change of colour, and entering his city spoke unto the Brahmana, 'O holy one, the food has been cooked.' And the Brahmana hearing this spoke not a word and from surprise he stood with downcast looks. And Sivi with a view to gratifying the Brahmana said, 'O holy one, eat thou this.' And the Brahmana looking at Sivi for a moment said, 'Eat it thyself.' And thereupon Sivi said, 'Let it be so.' And Sivi cheerfully taking the vessel from his head desired to eat it and thereupon the Brahmana caught hold of Sivi's hand and addressing him said, 'Thou hast conquered wrath. There is nothing that thou canst not give unto the Brahmanas.' And saying this, that Brahmana adored Sivi, and then as Sivi cast his eyes before him, he beheld his son standing like a child of the _gods_, decked in ornaments and yielding a fragrance from his body and the Brahmana, having accomplished all this, made himself visible and it was _Vidhatri_ himself who had thus come in that guise to try that royal sage, and after _Vidhatri_ had disappeared, the counsellors addressed the king, saying, 'Thou knowest everything. For what didst thou do all this?' And Sivi answered, 'It was not for fame, nor for wealth, nor from desire of acquiring objects of enjoyment that I did all this. This course is not sinful. It is for this that I do all this. The path which is trodden by the virtuous is laudable. My heart always inclineth towards such a course. This high instance of Sivi's blessedness I know, and I have, therefore, narrated it duly!'"'" SECTION CLXLVIII Vaisampayana said, "The sons of Pandu and those _Rishis_ then asked Markandeya, 'Is there anybody that is blessed with longer life than thou?' And Markandeya answered them, saying, 'There is without doubt, a royal sage of the name of Indradyumna and his virtue having diminished, he fell from heaven, crying, "My achievements are lost!" And he came unto me and asked, "Dost thou know me?" And I answered him, saying, "From our anxiety to acquire religious merit we do not confine ourselves to any home. We live but for a night in the same village or town. A person like us, therefore, cannot possibly know thy pursuits. The fasts and vows we observe render us weak in body and unable to follow any worldly pursuits on our own behalf. Hence, one like us cannot possibly know thee." He then asked me, "Is there any one who is longer lived than thou?" I answered him, saying, "There liveth on the Himavat an owl of the name of Pravarakarna. He is older than I. He may know thee. The part of the Himavat where he dwelleth is far off from here." And at this Indradyumna became a horse and carried me to where that owl lived and the king asked the owl, saying, "Dost thou know me?" And the owl seemed to reflect for a moment and then said unto the king, "I do not know thee." And the royal sage Indradyumna thereupon asked the owl, "Is there any one who is older than thou?" And thus asked the owl answered, saying, "There is a lake of the name of Indradyumna. In that lake dwelleth a crane of the name of Nadijangha. He is older than we. Ask thou him." And at this king Indradyumna taking both myself and the owl went to that lake where the crane Nadijangha dwelt. And that crane was asked by us, "Dost thou know the king Indradyumna?" And the crane thereupon seemed to reflect a little and then said, "I do not know king Indradyumna." And the crane was asked by us, "Is there any one who is older than thou?" And he answered us, saying, "There dwelleth in this very lake a tortoise of the name of Akupara. He is older than I. He may know something of this king. Therefore, enquire ye of Akupara." And then that crane gave information to the tortoise, saying, "It is intended by us to ask thee something. Please come to us." And hearing this the tortoise came out of the lake to that part of the bank where we all were and as he came there we asked him, saying, "Dost thou know this king Indradyumna?" And the tortoise reflected for a moment. And his eyes were filled with tears and his heart was much moved and he trembled all over and was nearly deprived of his senses. And he said with joined hands, "Alas, do I not know this one? He had planted the sacrificial stake a thousand times at the time of kindling the sacrificial fire. This lake was excavated by the feet of the cows given away by this king unto the Brahmanas on the completion of the sacrifice. I have lived here ever since." And after the tortoise had said all this, there came from the celestial regions a car. And an aerial voice was heard which said, addressing Indradyumna, "Come thou and obtain the place thou deservest in heaven! Thy achievements are great! Come thou cheerfully to thy place! Here also are certain _slokas_: The report of virtuous deeds spreadeth over the earth and ascendeth to heaven. As long as that report lasts, so long is the doer said to be in heaven. The man whose evil deeds are bruited about, is said to fall down and live, as long as that evil report lasts in the lower regions. Therefore should man be virtuous in his acts if he is to gain Heaven. And he should seek refuge in virtue, abandoning a sinful heart." "'And hearing these words, the king said, "Let the car stay here as long as I do not take these old persons to the places whence I brought them.' And having brought me and the owl Pravarakarna to our respective places, he went away, riding on that car, to the place that was fit for him. Being longlived, I witness all this."'" Vaisampayana continued, "It was thus that Markandeya narrated all this unto the son of Pandu. And after Markandeya finished, the sons of Pandu said, 'Blessed be thou! Thou hadst acted properly in causing king Indradyumna who had fallen from Heaven to regain his sphere!' And Markandeya answered them, saying, 'Devaki's son, Krishna, also had thus raised the royal sage Nriga who had sunk in hell and caused him to regain Heaven!'" SECTION CLXLIX Vaisampayana said, "King Yudhishthira, hearing from the illustrious Markandeya the story of the royal sage Indradyumna's regaining of Heaven, again asked the _Muni_, saying, 'O great _Muni_, tell me in what condition should a man practise charity in order to gain admission into the regions of Indra? Is it by practising charity while leading a domestic mode of life, or in boyhood, or in youth, or in old age? O, tell me about the respective merits reaped from the practice of charity in these different stages of life.' "Markandeya said, 'Life that is futile is of four kinds. Charity also that is futile is of sixteen kinds. His life is vain who hath no son; and his also who is out of pale of virtue: and his too who liveth on the food of other; and, lastly, his who cooketh for himself without giving therefrom unto the _Pitris_, the gods, and the guests, and who eateth of it before these all. The gift to one that has fallen away from the practice of virtuous vows, as also the gift of wealth that has been earned wrongly, are both in vain. The gift to a fallen Brahmana, that to a thief, that also to a preceptor that is false, is in vain. The gift to an untruthful man, to a person that is sinful, to one that is ungrateful, to one that officiates at sacrifices performed by all classes of people residing in a village, to one that sells the _Vedas_,[12] to a Brahmana that cooks for Sudra, to one that too by birth is a Brahmana but who is destitute of the occupations of his order, is in vain. The gift to one that has married a girl after the accession of puberty, to females, to one that sports with snakes, and to one that is employed in menial offices, is also in vain. These sixteen kinds of gifts are productive of no merits. That man who with mind clouded with darkness giveth away from fear or anger, enjoyeth the merit of such gift while he is in the womb of his mother. The man who (under other circumstances) maketh gifts unto the Brahmanas, enjoyeth the fruit thereof while he is in old age. Therefore, O king, the man who wishes to win the way of heaven, should under all conditions, make gifts unto Brahmanas of everything that he wishes to give away.' [12] A man is said to sell the Vedas who lectures on the Vedas taking fees from the hearers. "Yudhishthira said, 'By what means do Brahmanas, who accept gifts from all the four orders, save others as well as themselves?" "Markandeya said, 'By _Japa_,[13] and _Mantras_,[14] and _Homa_[15] and the study of the _Vedas_, the Brahmanas construct a _Vedic_ boat[16] wherewith they save both others and themselves. The gods themselves are pleased with that man who gratifieth the Brahmanas. Indeed, a man may attain heaven at the command of a Brahmana. Thou wilt, O king, without doubt ascend to regions of everlasting bliss, in consequence of thy worship of the _Pitris_ and the gods, and thy reverence for the Brahmanas, even though thy body is filled with phlegmatic humours and withal so dull and inert! He that desires virtue and heaven should adore the Brahmanas. One should feed Brahmanas with care on occasions of _Sraddhas_, although those among them that are cursed or fallen should be excluded. They also should be carefully excluded that are either excessively fair or excessively black, that have diseased nails, that are lepers, that are deceitful, that are born in bastardy of widows or of women having husbands alive; and they also that support themselves by the profession of arms. That _Sraddha_ which is censurable, consumeth the performer thereof like fire consuming fuel. If they that are to be employed in _Sraddhas_ happen to be dumb, blind, or deaf, care should be taken to employ them along with Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas. O Yudhishthira, listen now unto whom thou shouldst give. He that knoweth all the _Vedas_ should give only to that able Brahmana who is competent to rescue both the giver and himself, for he, indeed, is to be regarded as able who can rescue both the giver and himself. O son of Pritha, the sacred fires do not receive such gratification from libations of clarified butter, from offerings of flowers and sandal and other perfumed pastes as from the entertainment of guests. Therefore, do thou strive to entertain guests, O son of Pandu! O king, they that give unto guests water to wash their feet, butter to rub over their (tired) legs, light during the hours of darkness, food, and shelter, have not to go before Yama. The removal (after worship) of the flowery offerings unto the gods, the removal of the remnants of a Brahmana's feast, waiting (upon a Brahmana) with perfumed pastes, and the massaging of a Brahmana's limbs, are, each of them, O foremost of kings, productive of greater merit than the gift of kine. A person, without doubt, rescueth himself by the gift of a _Kapila_ cow. Therefore, should one give away a _Kapila_ cow decked with ornaments unto Brahmanas. O thou of the Bharata race, one should give unto a person of good lineage and conversant with the Vedas; unto a person that is poor; unto one leading a domestic mode of life but burdened with wife and children; unto one that daily adoreth the sacred fire; and unto one that hath done thee no service. Thou shouldst always give unto such persons but not to them that are in affluence. What merit is there, O thou foremost of the Bharata race, by giving unto one that is affluent? One cow must be given unto one Brahmana. A single cow must not be given unto many. For if the cow so given away (unto many) be sold, the giver's family is lost for three generations. Such a gift would not assuredly rescue the giver nor the Brahmana that takes it. He who giveth eighty _Ratis_ of pure gold, earneth the merit of giving away a hundred pieces of gold for ever. He that giveth away a strong bull capable also of drawing the plough, is certainly rescued from all difficulties and finally goeth to heaven. He that giveth away land unto a learned Brahmana, hath all his desires fulfilled. The tired traveller, with weakened limbs and feet besmeared with dust, asks for the name of him that may give him food. There are men who answer him by telling him the name. That wise man who informs these toil-worn ones of the name of the person who may give them food, is, without doubt, regarded as equal in merit unto the giver himself of food. Therefore, abstaining from other kinds of gift, give thou food. There is no merit (arising out of gifts) that is so great as that of giving food. The man that according to the measure of his might gives well-cooked and pure food unto the Brahmanas, acquires, by that act of his, the companionship of Prajapati (_Brahma_). There is nothing superior to food. Therefore, food is regarded as the first and foremost of all things (to be given away). It hath been said that food itself is _Prajapati_. And _Prajapati_ is regarded as the Year. And the Year is sacrifice. And everything is established in sacrifice, for it is from sacrifice that all creatures, mobile and immobile, take their origin. For this reason, it hath been heard by us, food is the foremost of all things. They that give away lakes and large pieces of water, and tanks and wells, and shelter and food and they that have sweet words for all, have not to hear the admonitions of Yama. With him who gives rice, and wealth earned by his labour, unto Brahmana of good behaviour, the earth is satisfied. And she poureth upon him showers of wealth. The giver of food walketh first, after him the speaker of truth and he that giveth unto persons that do not solicit. But the three go to the same place.'" [13] _Japa_ is the silent recitation of particular _Mantras_. [14] _Mantras_ are particular formulae of worship. They are for the most part rhythmic compositions, believed to be of great efficacy. [15] The _Homa_ is that sacrificial rite which consists of pouring libations of clarified butter into fire. [16] _Vedamayi nou_. Lit, a boat made of the Vedas. Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing all this, Yudhishthira, along with his younger brothers, impelled by curiosity, again addressed the high-souled Markandeya, saying, 'O great _Muni_, what is the distance of Yama's region from that of men? What is its measurement? How also do men pass it over? And by what means? O, tell me all this!' "Markandeya said, 'O king, O them foremost of virtuous men, this question of thine appertains to a great mystery. It is sacred and much applauded by the _Rishis_. Appertaining as it also does to virtue, I will speak of it to thee. The distance of Yama's region from the abode of men is, O king, eighty-six thousand _Yojanas_! The way is over space, without water, and very terrible to behold. Nowhere on that road is the shade of a tree, nowhere any water, and nowhere any resting place in which the traveller, when fatigued, may rest for some moments. And men and women and all on earth that have life, are forcibly led along this way by the messengers of Yama. Those creatures that obey the mandates of the grim king, and they, O king, that have given horses and other good conveyances unto Brahmanas, proceed along this way on those animals and vehicles. And they that have given umbrellas proceed along this way with umbrellas warding off the sun's rays. And they that have given food, proceed without hunger, while they that have not given food proceed afflicted with hunger. And they that have given robes, proceed along this way attired in robes while they that have given none, proceed naked. And they that have given gold, proceed in happiness, themselves decked in ornaments. And they that have given land, proceed with every desire completely gratified. And they that have given grain, proceed without being afflicted with any want. And they that have given houses, proceed happily on cars. And those men that have given something to drink, proceed with cheerful hearts unafflicted with thirst. And they that have given lights, proceed happily lighting the way before them. And they that have given kine, proceed along the way happily, freed from all their sins. And they that have fasted for a month, proceed on cars drawn by swans. And they who have fasted for six nights, proceed on cars drawn by peacocks. And, O son of Pandu, he that fasteth three nights upon only one meal without a second during this period goeth into a region free from disease and anxiety. And water hath this excellent property that it produceth happiness in the region of Yama. And they that give water find for themselves a river there of the name of Pushpodaka. And the givers of water on the earth drink cool and ambrosial draughts from that stream. And they that are of evil deeds have pus ordained for them. Thus, O great king, that river serveth all purposes. Therefore, O king, adore thou duly these Brahmanas (that are with thee). Weak in limbs owing to the way he has walked, and besmeared with the dust of the high-road, the traveller enquireth for the name of him who giveth food, and cometh in hope to his house. Adore thou him with reverent attention, for he indeed is a guest, and he is a Brahmana. The gods with Indra at their head follow him as he proceedeth. And if he is adored, the gods with Indra become gratified, and if he is not adored, the celestials with their chief become cheerless. Therefore, O thou foremost of kings, worship thou these Brahmanas duly. I have thus spoken to thee upon a hundred subjects. What dost thou desire to hear from me again?' "Yudhishthira said, 'O master, conversant thou art with virtue and morality, and so I desire to repeatedly listen to thee as thou speakest on sacred subjects appertaining to virtue and morals.' "Markandeya said, 'O king, I will now speak on another sacred subject appertaining to eternal interests and capable of washing off all sins. Listen thou with rapt attention. O thou foremost of the Bharatas, the merit equal to that of giving away a _Kapila_ cow in (the _tirtha_ called) _Jyeshtha-Pushkara_ arises from washing the feet of Brahmanas. As long as the earth remains wet with water which a Brahmana hath touched with his feet, so long do _Pitris_ drink water of cups made of lotus-leaves. If the guest is welcomed (with enquiries about his welfare), the deities of fire become glad; and if he is offered a seat, it is the god of a hundred sacrifices, who is gratified. If his feet are washed, it is the _Pitris_ who are delighted; and if he is fed it is _Prajapati_ that is pleased. One should with collected soul, give a cow when (during her throes) the feet and head of her calf are visible, before her delivery is complete. A cow with her calf in the air in course of falling from the uterus to the earth, is to be regarded as equal to the earth herself. He, therefore, that giveth away such a cow, reapeth the merit of giving away the earth. And he that giveth away such a cow, is adored in heaven for as many thousands of _Yugas_ as there are bristles on the bodies of the animal and her young one together. And, O Bharata, he that having accepted a thing in gift giveth it away immediately unto a person that is virtuous and honest, reapeth very great merit. Without doubt, he reapeth the fruit of giving away the whole earth to her utmost limits and with her oceans and seas and caves, her mountains and forests and woods. That Brahmana who eateth in silence from a plate, keeping his hands between his knees, succeedeth in rescuing others. And those Brahmanas that abstain from drink and who are never spoken of by others as having any faults and who daily read the _Samhitas_, are capable of rescuing others. Libations of butter and edible offerings should all be presented to a Brahmana who is learned in the _Vedas_. And as libations of clarified butter poured into fire never go in vain, so gift to virtuous Brahmanas learned in the _Vedas_ can never go in vain. The Brahmanas have anger for their weapon; they never fight with arms of iron and steel. Indeed the Brahmanas slay with anger like Indra slaying the Asuras with his thunder-bolt. Thus prelection appertaining to virtue and morality is now over. Hearing this, the _Munis_ of the forest of _Naimisha_ were filled with delight. And those ascetics were also freed from grief and anger by listening to it. And they were also purged of all their sins in consequence of this. And, O king, those human beings that listen to it become freed from the obligation of rebirth.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O thou of great wisdom, what purification is there by which a Brahmana may always keep himself pure? I desire to hear of it from thee, O thou foremost of all virtuous men!' "Markandeya answered, 'There are three kinds of purity, viz., purity in speech, purity in deed, and purity achieved by use of water. He that has recourse to these three different kinds of purity, attains, without doubt, to heaven. That Brahmana who adoreth the goddess _Sandhya_ in the morning and the evening, and who recites meditatively the sacred goddess _Gayairi_ who is the mother of the _Vedas_, sanctified by the latter, is freed from all his sins. Even if he accepts in gift the entire earth with her oceans, he doth not, on that account, suffer the least unhappiness. And those heavenly bodies in the sky including the sun that may be inauspicious and hostile towards him soon become auspicious and favourable towards him in consequence of these acts of his, while those stars that are auspicious and favourable become more auspicious and more favourable in consequence of such conduct of his. And terrible Rakshasas subsisting on animal food, of gigantic and fierce mien, all become unable to prevail over a Brahmana who practiseth these purifications. The Brahmanas are even like blazing fires. They incur no fault in consequence of teaching, of officiating at sacrifices, and of accepting gifts from others. Whether the Brahmana be cognisant of the _Vedas_ or ignorant of them, whether they be pure or impure, they should never be insulted, for Brahmanas are like fires. As the fire that blazeth up in the place set apart for the cremation of the dead is never regarded impure on that account, so the Brahmana, be he learned or ignorant, is always pure. He is great and a very god! Cities that are adorned with walls and gates and palaces one after another, lose their beauty if they are bereft of Brahmanas. That, indeed, O king, is a city where Brahmanas accomplished in the _Vedas_, duly observing the duties of their order and possessed of learning and ascetic merit, reside. O son of Pritha, that spot, be it a wood or pasture land, where learned Brahmanas reside, hath been called a city. And that place, O king, becometh a _tirtha_ also. By approaching a king that offereth protection, as also a Brahmana possessed of ascetic merit, and by offering worship unto both, a man may purge off his sins immediately. The learned have said that ablutions in the sacred _tirthas_, recitation of the names of holy ones, and converse with the good and virtuous, are all acts worthy of applause. They that are virtuous and honest always regard themselves as sanctified by the holy companionship of persons like themselves and by the water of pure and sacred converse. The carrying of three staffs, the vow of silence, matted hair on head, the shaving of the crown, covering one's person with barks and deerskins, the practice of vows, ablutions, the worship of fire, abode in the woods, emaciating the body, all these are useless if the heart be not pure. The indulgence of the six senses is easy, if purity be not sought in the object of enjoyment. Abstinence, however, which of itself is difficult, is scarcely easy without purity of the objects of enjoyment. O king of kings, among the six senses, the mind alone that is easily moved is the most dangerous! Those high-souled persons that do not commit sins in word, deed, heart and soul, are said to undergo ascetic austerities, and not they that suffer their bodies to be wasted by fasts and penances. He that hath no feeling of kindness for relatives cannot be free from sin even if his body be pure. That hard-heartedness of his is the enemy of his asceticism. Asceticism, again, is not mere abstinence from the pleasures of the world. He that is always pure and decked with virtue, he that practises kindness all his life, is a _Muni_ even though he may lead a domestic life. Such a man is purged of all his sins. Fasts and other penances cannot destroy sins, however much they may weaken and dry up the body that is made of flesh and blood. The man whose heart is without holiness, suffers torture only by undergoing penances in ignorance of their meaning. He is never freed from sins of such acts. The fire he worshippeth doth not consume his sins. It is in consequence of holiness and virtue alone that men attain to regions of blessedness, and fasts and vows become efficacious. Subsistence on fruits and roots, the vow of silence, living upon air, the shaving of the crown, abandonment of a fixed home, the wearing of matted locks on the head, lying under the canopy of heaven, daily fasts, the worship of fire, immersion in water, and lying on the bare ground,--these alone cannot produce such a result. They only that are possessed of holiness succeed, by knowledge and deeds, to conquer disease, decrepitude and death, and acquire a high status. As seeds that have been scorched by fire do not sprout forth, so the pains that have been burnt by knowledge cannot effect the soul. This inert body that is only like a block of wood when destitute of souls, is, without doubt, short lived like froth in the ocean. He that obtaineth a view of his soul, the soul that resideth in every body, by help of one or half of a rhythmic line (of the _Vedas_), hath no more need for anything. Some obtaining a knowledge of identity with the Supreme Soul from but two letters (of the _Vedas_) and some from hundreds and thousands of rhythmic lines, acquire salvation, for the knowledge of one's identity with the Supreme Soul is the sure indication of salvation. The men of old, distinguished for their knowledge, have said, neither this world nor that hereafter nor bliss can be his who is disturbed by doubts. And belief of one's identity with the Supreme Soul is the indication of salvation. He that knoweth the true meaning of the Vedas, understandeth their true use. Such a man is affrighted at the Vedic ritual like a man at sight of a forest conflagration. Giving up dry disputation, have recourse to _Sruti_ and _Smriti_, and seek thou, with the aid of thy reason, the knowledge of the Undecaying One that is without a second. One's search (after this knowledge) becometh futile from defect of means. Therefore, should one carefully strive to obtain that knowledge by aid of the _Vedas_. The _Vedas_ are the Supreme Soul; they are His body; they are the Truth. The soul that is bounded by the animal organism is incompetent to know Him in whom all the _Vedas_ merge. That Supreme Soul, however, is capable of being known by the pure intellect. The existence of the _gods_ as stated in the _Vedas_, the efficacy of acts, and the capacity for action of being furnished with bodies, are noticeable in every _Yuga_. Independence of these and annihilation are to be sought from purity of the senses. Therefore, the suspension of the function of the senses is the true fasting. One may attain to heaven by asceticism, one may obtain objects of enjoyment by the practice of charity and may have his sins purged off by ablutions in _tirthas_. But complete emancipation cannot be had except by knowledge.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, O great king, by the _Rishi_, Yudhishthira of great fame then said, 'O holy one, I desire to listen to the rules about that charity which is meritorious.' "Markandeya said, 'O great king, O Yudhishthira, the rules about charity which thou wishest to hear from me are always highly regarded by me. Listen now to the mysteries of charity as expounded in the _sruti_ and the _smritis_! A man that performs a _sraddha_ in the conjunction called _Gajacchaya_ at a place that is fanned by the leaves of the _Aswattha_ tree enjoys the fruits thereof, O Yudhishthira, for a hundred thousand _kalpas_. O king, he that foundeth a _dharmasala_ and established there a person to look after all comers, is crowned with the merits of all the sacrifices. He that giveth away a horse at a _tirtha_ where the current of the river runneth in a direction opposite to its general course, reapeth merit that is inexhaustible. The guest that comes to one's house for food is none other than Indra himself. If he is entertained with food, Indra himself conferreth on the best merit that is inexhaustible. As men cross seas by vessels, so are the givers mentioned above are saved from all their sins. So what is given unto Brahmanas produceth, like gift of curds, inexhaustible merits. A gift on particular lunations produceth merit that is twice as much as a gift on other days. That in a particular season produceth merit ten times greater that in other seasons. That in a particular year produceth merit a hundred times greater than in other years. And lastly, a gift on the last day of the last month of the year produceth merit that is inexhaustible. A gift also that is made while the Sun is on the solstitial points, one again that is made on the last day of the Sun's path through Libra, Aries, Gemini, Virgo, and Pisces, a gift again during eclipses of the Moon and the Sun, produce merit that is inexhaustible. The learned have also said that gifts made during the seasons produce merit that is ten times, those made during the change of seasons, a hundred times--and those made during the days when _Rahu_ is visible, a thousand times--greater than what is produced by gifts at other time; while a gift made on the last day of the Sun's course through Libra and Aries produces merit that knows no diminution. O king, no one can enjoy landed possessions unless he giveth away land, and no one can go on cars and vehicles unless he giveth away these. Indeed a person on rebirth obtaineth the fruition of whatever objects he hath in view at the time of making a gift to a Brahmana. Gold hath sprung from Fire; the Earth from Vishnu; and the cows from the Sun. He, therefore, that giveth away gold, land, and kine attaineth all the regions of Agni, Vishnu, and the Sun. There is nothing so eternal as a gift. Where, therefore, in the three worlds is anything that is more auspicious? It is for this, O king, that they who have great intelligence say that there is nothing higher and greater in the three worlds than gift!'" SECTION CC Vaisampayana said, "Having, O great king, heard from the illustrious Markandeya the history of the attainment of heaven by the royal sage Indradyumna, Yudhishthira, that bull of the Bharata race, once more asked that sinless _Muni_ endued with great ascetic merit and long life, saying, 'Thou knowest, O virtuous one, the entire host of the gods, the _Danavas_, and the _Rakshasas_. Thou art acquainted also with various royal genealogies and many eternal lines of _Rishis_! O best of Brahmanas, there is nothing in this world that thou dost not know! Thou knowest also, O _Muni_, many delightful stories about _men, Snakes_ and _Rakshasas_; about gods, _Gandharvas_, and _Yakshas_, and about _Kinnaras_ and _Apsaras_! I desire now to hear from thee, O best of Brahmanas, as to why Kuvalaswa--that unvanquished king of Ikshavaku's race changed his name, assuming another, viz., _Dhundhumara_. O thou best of Bhrigu's line, I desire to know in detail why the name of Kuvalaswa of great intelligence underwent such a change!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, the great _Muni_ Markandeya, O Bharata, then began the history of Dhundhumara!" "Markandeya said, 'O royal Yudhishthira, listen to me, I will tell thee all! The story of Dhundhumara is a moral one. Listen to it then! Listen now, O king, to the story of how the royal Kuvalaswa of Ikshvaku's race came to be known as Dhundhumara. O son, O Bharata, there was a celebrated _Rishi_ of the name of Utanka and, O thou of the Kuru race, Utanka had his hermitage in a delightful wilderness. And, O great king, the _Rishi_ Utanka underwent ascetic austerities of the severest kind and the lord Utanka underwent those penances for numberless years with the object of obtaining the favours of Vishnu, and gratified with his penances that illustrious Lord presented himself before Utanka. And beholding the Deity, the _Rishi_ in all humility began to gratify him with many hymns, and Utanka said, "O thou of great effulgence all creatures with the gods, _Asuras_ and human beings, all things that are mobile or immobile, even _Brahma_ himself, the Vedas, and all things that are capable of being known, have, O lord, been created by thee! The firmament is thy head, O god, and the sun and the moon are thy eyes! And, O Unfading One, the winds are thy breath and fire thy energy! The directions of the horizon constitute thy arms and the great ocean thy stomach! And, O god, the hills and mountains constitute thy thigh and the sky thy hips, O slayer of Madhu! The earth constitutes thy feet, and the plants the bristles on thy body. And, O lord, Indra and Soma and Agni and Varuna, indeed all the gods, the _Asuras_ and the great Snakes all wait upon thee with humility, adoring thee with various hymns! O Lord of the Universe, created things are pervaded by thee. The great _Rishis_ of high energy and ever plunged in ascetic meditation, always adore thee. When thou art gratified, the universe is in peace. And when thou art angry, terror pervadeth every soul. Thou art, O Lord, the great dispeller of all terrors and thou art the One Supreme Male Being! Thou art the cause of happiness of both gods and human beings! And, O Lord, by three steps of thine thou didst cover the three worlds! And it was by thee that the _Asuras_ in the height of their power were destroyed! It is owing to thy prowess, O God, that the celestials obtained peace and happiness and, O thou of great effulgence, it was thy anger that destroyed hundred great _Daitya_ chiefs. Thou art the Creator and destroyer of all creatures in the world. It is by adoring thee that the gods have obtained happiness." It was thus, O Yudhishthira, that the high-souled Utanka praised the Lord of the senses. And Vishnu, therefore, said unto Utanka, "I am gratified with thee. Ask thou the boon that thou desirest." And Utanka said, "This indeed hath been a great boon to me, in that I have been able to behold Hari, that eternal Being, that divine Creator, that Lord of the universe!" Thus addressed Vishnu said, "I am gratified with this absence of all desires on thy part and with thy devotion, O thou best of men! But, O Brahmanas, O regenerate one, thou shouldst of a certainty accept some boon from me!" Thus requested by Hari to accept a boon Utanka then, O thou best of Bharatas, with joined hands begged a boon saying, "O illustrious one, O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, if thou hast been gratified with me, then let my heart always rest on virtue, truth, and self-content. And, O Lord, let my heart always turn to thee in devotion." And hearing these words of Utanka, the holy one said, "O regenerate one, all this shall happen to thee through my grace. And there will also appear in thee a _yoga_ power endued with which thou shalt achieve a great thing for the dwellers of Heaven, as also for the triple world. Even now a great _Asura_ of the name of Dhundhu is undergoing ascetic penances of fierce austerity with the object of destroying the triple world. Hear now as to who will slay that _Asura_. O son, there will appear a king of invincible energy and great prowess and he will be born in the race of Ikshvaku and will be known by the name of Vrihadaswa who will have a son of the name of Kuvalaswa endued with great holiness and self-control and celebrity. And that best of kings will be furnished with _yoga_ power springing from me and urged and commended by thee, O regenerate _Rishi_, that king will be the slayer of the Asura Dhundhu." And having said these words unto that Brahmana, Vishnu disappeared there and then.'" SECTION CCI "Markandeya said, 'O king, after the death of Ikshvaku, a highly virtuous king of the name of _Sasada_, ascending the throne of Ayodhya ruled this earth. And from _Sasada_ was descended Kakutstha of great energy. And Kakutstha had a son of name Anenas. And Anenas had a son named Prithu and Prithu had a son named Viswagaswa and from Viswagaswa sprang Adri and from Adri sprang Yuvanaswa and from Yuvanaswa sprang Sravastha and it was by this Sravastha that the city called _Sravasthi_ was built and from Sravastha was descended Vrihadaswa and from Vrihadaswa sprang Kuvalaswa and Kuvalaswa had twentyone thousand sons and all these sons were fierce and powerful and skilled in learning. And Kuvalaswa excelled his father in every quality. And when the time came, his father Vrihadaswa installed him--the brave and highly virtuous Kuvalaswa--on the throne. And having thus made over the royal dignity to his son, that slayer of foes--king Vrihadaswa of great intelligence-- retired into the woods for asceticism.' "Markandeya continued, 'O king, when the royal sage Vrihadaswa was about to retire into the woods, that best of Brahmanas, Utanka heard of it. And Utanka who was possessed of great energy and immeasurable soul, approached that foremost of all wielders of weapons and best of men. And approaching him, the _Rishis_ began to persuade him to give up asceticism. And Utanka said, "O king, to protect (the people) is thy duty. It behoveth thee to do that duty of thine. Let us be free from all anxiety through thy grace. Possessed as thou art of a great soul, protected by thee, the earth will be freed from all dangers. Therefore, it behoveth thee, not to retire into the woods. Great merit attaches to the act of protecting people in this world. Such merit can never be acquired in the woods. Let not thy heart, therefore, turn to this course. The merit, great king, that was acquired in days of old by great royal sages by protecting their subjects was so great that nothing equal to it could be seen. The king should always protect his subjects. It behoveth thee, therefore, to protect thy people. O lord of the earth, I cannot (at present) perform my ascetic devotions peacefully. Close to my asylum there is a sea of sands known by the name of _Ujjalaka._ And it occupies a level country and is without any water. And it extends many _yojanas_ in length and breadth and in that desert dwells a chief of the _Danavas_ called Dhundhu by name. And Dhundhu is the son of Madhu and Kaitabha, and is fierce and terrible and possessed of great prowess. And endued with immeasurable energy, that _Danava_, O king, dwelleth under the ground, and, O king, it behoveth thee to retire into the woods, having first slain that _Asura_. That _Asura_ is now lying still in the observance of an ascetic penance of great austerity and, O king, the object he hath in view is sovereignty over the celestials as also of the three worlds. And, O king, having obtained a boon from the Grandsire of all creatures, that _Asura_ hath become incapable of being slain by the gods and _Daityas_ and _Rakshasas_ and _Gandharvas_. Slay though him, O king, and blessed be thou and let not thy heart turn to any other course. By slaying him thou wilt without doubt, achieve a great thing and thou wilt also obtain eternal and undying fame. And O king, when at the end of every year that wicked _Asura_ lying covered with sands, wakes up and begins to breathe, then the whole earth with her mountains, forests and woods begins to tremble. And his breath raiseth up clouds of sands, and shroudeth the very sun, and for seven days continually the earth tremble all over, and sparks and flames of fire mixed with smoke spread far around and for all this, O king, I cannot rest in peace in my asylum. Slay thou him, O king, for the good of the world. Indeed, when that _Asura_ is slain the triple world will be in peace and happiness. That thou art competent, O king, to slay that _Asura_, I fully believe. Thy energy will be enhanced by Vishnu with the addition of his own. In days of old, O king, Vishnu gave this boon that the king who should slay this fierce and great _Asura_ would be pervaded by the invincible energy of Vishnu himself. Bearing that invincible _Vaishnava_ energy in thyself, slay thou, O great king, that _Daitya_ of fierce prowess. Possessed as Dhundhu is of mighty energy, no one, O king, that is endued with small energy himself will be capable of consuming him, even if he were to strive for a hundred years."'" SECTION CCII "Markandeya said, 'Thus addressed by Utanka, that unvanquished royal sage, with joined hands, O thou foremost of the Kuru race, replied unto Utanka, saying, "This visit of thine, O Brahmana, will not be in vain. This my son, O holy one, known by the name of Kuvalaswa is endued with steadiness and activity. In prowess also he is unequaled on earth. Without doubt he will accomplish all this that is agreeable to thee, aided by all his brave sons endued with arms like unto iron maces. Give me leave to retire, O Brahmana, for I have now given up my weapons." Thus addressed by the king, that _Muni_ of immeasurable energy replied unto him, saying, "So be it." And the royal sage Vrihadaswa then, having commended his son to obey the behest of the high-souled Utanka saying, "Let it be done by thee," himself retired into an excellent forest.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O holy one, O thou possessed of the wealth of asceticism, who was this _Daitya_ of great energy? Whose son and whose grandson was he? I desire to know all this; O thou possessed of the wealth of asceticism I never heard of this mighty _Daitya_ before. I desire to know all this truly, O holy one, and with all particulars in detail, O thou of great wisdom and ascetic wealth!' "Markandeya said, 'O monarch, know everything as it happened, O ruler of men, as I narrate the particulars truly, O thou of great wisdom! When the world became one broad expanse of water and creatures mobile and immobile were destroyed, when, O bull of the Bharata race, the entire creation came to its end, He who is the Source and Creator of the Universe, viz., the Eternal and unfading Vishnu, He who is called by _Munis_ crowned with ascetic success as the Supreme Lord of the Universe, that Being of great holiness, then lay in _Yoga_ sleep on the wide hood of the Snake Sesha of immeasurable energy, and the Creator of the Universe, that highly-blessed and holy Hari, knowing no deterioration, lay on the hood of that Snake encircling the whole Earth and as the Deity lay asleep on that bed, a lotus, endued with great beauty and effulgence equal unto that of the Sun, sprang from his navel. And from that lotus possessed of effulgence like unto the Sun's, sprang the Grandsire _Brahma_, that lord of the worlds who is the four _Vedas_, who hath four forms and four faces, who is invincible in consequence of his own energy and who is endued with mighty strength and great prowess and as the Lord Hari of wondrous frame, possessed of great lustre and decked with a crown and the _Kaustubha_ gem and attired in purple silk, lay stretched for many a _yojana_ on that excellent bed furnished by the hood of the snake itself extending far and wide, blazing, O king, in his beauty and the lustre of his own body like a thousand Suns concentrated in one mass. He was beheld some time after by two _Danavas_ of great prowess named Madhu and Kaitabha and beholding Hari (in that posture) and the Grandsire with eyes like lotus-leaves seated on that lotus, both Madhu and Kaitabha wandered much and they began to terrify and alarm Brahma of immeasurable prowess, and the illustrious Brahma alarmed by their continued exertions trembled on his seat, and at his trembling the stalk of the lotus on which he was seated began to tremble and when the lotus-stalk trembled, Kesava awoke. And awakened from his slumber, Govinda beheld those _Danavas_ of mighty energy, and beholding them the Deity said unto them, "Welcome, ye mighty ones! I am gratified with you! Therefore, I will grant you excellent boons!" And thereupon both those proud and mighty _Danavas_, O king, laughingly replied unto Hrishikesa, saying, "Ask boons of us, O Divine one! O thou that art the Supreme Deity, we are disposed to grant thee a boon. Indeed, we will grant thee a boon! Therefore, ask thou of us anything that cometh to thy mind." Thus addressed by them the holy one spoke, "Ye brave ones, I will accept a boon from you. There is a boon that I desire. Both of you are possessed of mighty energy. There is no male person like unto any of you. O ye of unbaffled prowess, submit ye to be slain by me. Even that is what I desire to accomplish for the good of the world." Hearing these words of the Deity, both Madhu and Kaitabha said, "We have never before spoken an untruth; no, not even in jest; what shall we say of other occasions! O thou foremost of male Beings, know that we have ever been firm in truth and morality. In strength, in forms, in beauty, in virtue, in asceticism, in charity, in behaviour, in goodness, in self control, there is no one equal unto either of us. A great danger, O Kesava, hath approached us. Accomplish thou, therefore, what thou hast said. No one can prevail over Time. But, O Lord, there is one thing that we desire to be done by thee. O thou best and foremost of all Deities, thou must slay us at a spot that is absolutely uncovered. And, O thou of excellent eyes, we also desire to become thy sons. This is the boon that we desire, know then, O chief of the gods! Let not that, O Deity, be false which thou hadst at first promised to us." The Holy One then replied unto them saying, "Yes, I will do as ye desire. Everything will be as ye wish!" "Markandeya continued, 'Then Govinda began to reflect but uncovered space found he none and when he could not discover any spot that was uncovered on earth or in the sky, that foremost Deity then beheld his thighs to be absolutely uncovered. And there, O king, the illustrious Deity cut off the heads of Madhu and Kaitabha with his keenedged discus!'" SECTION CCIII "Markandeya said, 'The illustrious Dhundhu, O king, was the son of Madhu and Kaitabha, and possessed of great energy and prowess, he underwent ascetic penances of great austerity and he stood erect on one leg and reduced his body to a mass of only veins and arteries, and Brahma, gratified with him, gave him a boon. And the boon he had asked of the lord Prajapati was in these words, "Let no one among the gods, the _Danavas_, the _Rakshas_, the Snakes, the _Gandharvas_ and the _Rakshasas_ be capable of slaying me. Even this is the boon that I ask of thee." And the Grandsire replied unto him saying, "Let it be as thou wishest. Go thy way." And thus addressed by the Grandsire, the _Danava_ placed the feet of the Deity on his head and having thus touched with reverence the Deity's feet he went away and possessed of mighty energy and prowess. Dhundhu, having obtained the boon hastily approached Vishnu remembering the death of his father at the hands of that Deity, and the wrathful Dhundhu having vanquished the gods with the _Gandharvas_ began to distress all the celestials with Vishnu at their head. And at last O bull of the Bharata race, that wicked souled _Asura_ arriving at a sea of sands known by the name of Ujjalaka, began to distress to the utmost of his might the asylum of Utanka. And endued with fierce energy, Dhundhu, the son of Madhu and Kaitabha, lay in his subterranean cave underneath the sands in the observance of fierce ascetic and severe austerities with the object of destroying the triple world, and while the _Asura_ lay breathing near the asylum of Utanka that _Rishi_ possessed of the splendour of fire, king Kualaswa with his troops, accompanied by the Brahmana Utanka, as also by all his sons set out for that region, O bull of the Bharata race! And after that grinder of foes, the royal Kuvalaswa, had set out, accompanied by his twenty-one thousand sons all of whom were exceedingly powerful, the illustrious Lord Vishnu filled him with his own energy at the command of Utanka and impelled by the desire of benefiting the triple world and while that invincible hero was proceeding on his way a loud voice was heard in the sky repeating the words, "This fortunate and unslayable one will become the destroyer of Dhundhu to-day." And the gods began to shower upon him celestial flowers. And the celestial kettle drums began to sound their music although none played upon them. And during the march of that wise one, cool breezes began to blow and the chief of the celestials poured gentle showers wetting the dust on the roads and, O Yudhishthira, the cars of the celestials could be seen high over the spot where the mighty _Asura_ Dhundhu was. The gods and _Gandharvas_ and great _Rishis_ urged by curiosity, came there to behold the encounter between Dhundhu and Kuvalaswa and, O thou of the Kuru race, filled by Narayana with his own energy, king Kuvalaswa, aided by his sons, soon surrounded that sea of sands and the king ordered that wilderness to be excavated and after the king's sons had excavated that sea of sands for seven days, they could see the mighty _Asura_ Dhundhu. And, O bull of the Bharata race, the huge body of that _Asura_ lay within those sands, effulgent in its own energy like the Sun himself. And Dhundhu, O king, was lying covering the western region of the desert and surrounded on all sides by the sons of Kuvalaswa, the _Danava_ was assaulted with sharp-pointed shafts and maces and heavy and short clubs and axes and clubs, with iron spikes and darts and bright and keen-edged swords, and thus assaulted, the mighty _Danava_ rose from his recumbent posture in wrath. And enraged, the _Asura_ began to swallow those various weapons that were hurled at him and he vomited from his mouth fiery flames like unto those of the fire called _Samvarta_ that appeareth at the end of the _Yuga_ and by those flames of his, the _Asura_ consumed all the sons of the king and, O tiger among men, like the Lord Kapila of old consuming the sons of king Sagara, the infuriated _Asura_ overwhelming the triple world with the flames vomited from his mouth, achieved that wonderful feat in a moment. And, O thou best of the Bharatas, when all those sons of king Kuvalaswa were consumed by the fire emitted by the _Asura_ in wrath, the monarch, possessed as he was of mighty energy, then approached the _Danava_ who, like unto a second Kumbhakarna of mighty energy, had come to the encounter after waking from his slumbers. From the body of the king, O monarch, then began to flow a mighty and copious stream of water and that stream soon extinguished, O king, the fiery flames emitted by the _Asura_. And, O great king, the royal Kuvalaswa, filled with _Yoga_ force, having extinguished those flames by the water that issued from his body, consumed that _Daitya_ of wicked prowess with the celebrated weapon called _Brahma_ for relieving the triple world of its fears, and the royal sage Kuvalaswa, having consumed that great _Asura_, that foe of the celestials and slayer of all enemies, by means of that weapon became like unto a second chief of the triple world and the high-souled king Kuvalaswa having slain the _Asura_ Dhundhu, became from that time known by the name of _Dhundhumara_ and from that time he came to be regarded as invincible in battle, and the gods and the great _Rishis_ who had come to witness that encounter were so far gratified with him that they addressed him saying, "Ask thou a boon of us!" And thus solicited by the gods, the king bowed to them and filled with joy, the king said unto them, with joined hands these words, "Let me be always able to give wealth unto superior Brahmanas! Let me be invincible as regards all foes! Let there be friendship between myself and Vishnu! Let me have no ill-feeling towards any creature! Let my heart always turn to virtue! And let me (finally) dwell in heaven for ever!" And the gods and the _Rishis_ and Utanka, hearing this were exceedingly gratified and all of them said, "Let it be as thou wishest!" And, O king, having also blessed him with many other speeches, the gods and the great _Rishis_ then went away to their respective abodes. And, O Yudhishthira, after the slaughter of all his sons, king Kuvalaswa had still three sons left, and, O thou of the Bharata race, they were called _Dridaswa_ and _Kapilaswa_ and _Chandraswa_. It is from them, O king, that the illustrious line of kings belonging to Ikshvaku's race, all possessed of immeasurable prowess, hath sprung. "'It was thus, O best of king, that that great _Daitya_ of the name Dhundhu, the son of Madhu and Kaitabha was slain by Kuvalaswa and it was for this also that king came to be called by the name of _Dhundhumara_. And indeed, the name he assumed was no empty one but was literally true. "'I have now told thee all that thou hadst asked me, viz., all about that person in consequence of whose act the story of Dhundhu's death hath become famous. He that listeneth to this holy history connected with the glory of Vishnu, becometh virtuous and obtaineth children. By listening to this story on particular lunations, one becometh blessed with long life and great good fortune. And freed from every anxiety one ceaseth to have any fear of diseases.'" SECTION CCIV Vaisampayana said, "O thou foremost of the Bharata race, king Yudhishthira then asked the illustrious Markandeya a difficult question about morality, saying, 'I desire to hear, O holy one, about the high and excellent virtue of women. I desire to hear from thee, O Brahmana, discourse about the subtle truths of morality. O regenerate _Rishi_, O best of men, the Sun, the Moon, the Wind, the Earth, the Fire, the father, the mother, the preceptor--these and other objects ordained by the gods, appear to us as Deities embodied! All these that are reverend ones are worthy of our best regard. So also is the woman who adoreth one lord. The worship that chaste wives offer unto their husbands appeareth to me to be fraught with great difficulty. O adorable one, it behoveth thee to discourse to us of the high and excellent virtue of chaste wives--of wives who restraining all their senses and keeping their hearts under complete control regard their husbands as veritable gods. O holy and adorable one, all this appears to me to be exceedingly difficult of accomplishment. O regenerate one, the worship that sons offer to their mothers and fathers and that wives offer to their husbands, both seem to me to be highly difficult. I do not behold anything that is more difficult than the severe virtue of chaste women. O Brahmana, the duties that women of good behaviour discharge with care and the conduct that is pursued by good sons towards their fathers and mothers appear to me to be most difficult of performance. Those women that are each devoted to but one lord, they that always speak the truth, they that undergo a period of gestation for full ten months--there is nothing, O Brahmana, that is more difficult than that is done by these. O worshipful one, women bring forth their offspring with great hazard to themselves and great pain and rear their children, O bull among Brahmanas, with great affection! Those persons also who being always engaged in acts of cruelty and thereby incurring general hatred, succeed yet in doing their duties accomplish what, in my opinion, is exceedingly difficult. O regenerate one, tell me the truths of the duties of the Kshatriya order. It is difficult, O twice-born one, for those high-souled ones to acquire virtue who by the duties of their order are obliged to do what is cruel. O holy one, thou art capable of answering all questions; I desire to hear thee discourse on all this. O thou foremost of Bhrigu's race, I desire to listen to all this, waiting respectfully on thee, O thou of excellent vows!' "Markandeya said, 'O thou foremost of the Bharata race, I will discourse to thee on all this truly, however difficult of answer thy question may be. Listen to me, therefore, as I speak unto thee. Some regard the mother as superior and some the father. The mother, however, that bringeth forth and reareth up offspring what is more difficult. Fathers also, by ascetic penances, by worship of the gods, by adorations addressed to them, by bearing cold and heat, by incantations and other means desire to have children. And having by these painful expedients obtained children that are so difficult of acquisition, they then, O hero, are always anxious about the future of their sons and, O Bharata, both the father and the mother desire to see in their sons fame and achievements and prosperity and offspring and virtue. That son is virtuous who realises these hopes of his parents. And, O great king, that son with whom the father and the mother are gratified, achieveth eternal fame and eternal virtue both here and thereafter. As regards women again, neither sacrifice nor _sraddhas_, nor fasts are of any efficacy. By serving their husbands only they can win heaven. O king, O Yudhishthira, remembering this alone, listen thou with attention to the duties of chaste women.'" SECTION CCV "Markandeya said, 'There was, O Bharata, a virtuous ascetic of the name of Kausika and endued with wealth of asceticism and devoted to the study of the _Vedas_, he was a very superior Brahmana and that best of Brahmanas studied all the _Vedas_ with the _Angas_ and the _Upanishadas_ and one day he was reciting the _Vedas_ at the foot of a tree and at that time there sat on the top of that tree a female crane and that she-crane happened at that time to befoul the Brahmana's body and beholding that crane the Brahmana became very angry and thought of doing her an injury and as the Brahmana cast his angry glances upon the crane and thought also of doing her an injury, she fell down on the ground and beholding the crane thus fallen from the tree and insensible in death, the Brahmana was much moved by pity and the regenerate one began to lament for the dead crane saying, "Alas, I have done a bad deed, urged by anger and malice!" "Markandeya continued, 'Having repeated these words many times, that learned Brahmana entered a village for procuring alms. And, O bull of the Bharata race, in course of his eleemosynary round among the houses of persons of good lineage, the Brahmana entered one such house that he knew from before. And as he entered the house, he said, "_Give_." And he was answered by a female with the word, "_Stay_." And while the housewife was engaged, O king, in cleaning the vessel from which alms are given, her husband, O thou best of the Bharatas, suddenly entered the house, very much afflicted with hunger. The chaste housewife beheld her husband and disregarding the Brahmana, gave her lord water to wash his feet and face and also a seat and after that the black-eyed lady, placing before her lord savoury food and drink, humbly stood beside him desirous of attending to all his wants. And, O Yudhishthira, that obedient wife used every day to eat the orts of her husband's plate and, always conducting herself in obedience to the wishes of the lord, that lady ever regarded her husband, and all her heart's affections inclined towards her lord. Of various and holy behaviour and skilful in all domestic duties and attentive to all her relatives, she always did what was agreeable and beneficial to her husband and she also, with rapt senses attended to the worship of the gods and the wants of guests and servants and her mother-in-law and father-in-law. "'And while the lady of handsome eyes was still engaged in waiting upon her lord, she beheld that Brahmana waiting for alms and beholding him, she remembered that she had asked him to wait. And remembering all this, she felt abashed. And then that chaste woman possessed of great fame, took something for alms and went out, O thou foremost of the Bharatas, for giving it unto that Brahmana. And when she came before him, the Brahmana said, "O best of women, O blessed one, I am surprised at thy conduct! Having requested me to wait saying, '_Stay_' thou didst not dismiss me!"' "Markandeya continued, 'O lord of men, beholding that Brahmana filled with wrath and blazing with his energy, that chaste woman began to conciliate him and said, "O learned one, it behoveth thee to forgive me. My husband is my supreme god. He came hungry and tired and was being served and waited upon by me." Hearing this, the Brahmana said, "With thee Brahmanas are not worthy of superior regard. Exaltest thou thy husband above them? Leading a domestic life, dost thou disregard Brahmanas? Indra himself boweth down unto them, what shall I say of men on earth. Proud woman, dost thou not know it, hast thou never heard it, that the Brahmanas are like fire and may consume the entire earth?" At these words of that Brahmana the woman answered, "I am no she-crane, O regenerate _Rishi_! O thou that art endued with the wealth of asceticism, cast off this anger of thine. Engaged as thou are, what canst thou do to me with these angry glances of thine? I do not disregard Brahmanas. Endued with great energy of soul, they are like unto the gods themselves. But, O sinless one, this fault of mine it behoveth thee to forgive. I know the energy and high dignity of Brahmanas that are possessed of wisdom. The waters of the ocean have been made brackish and undrinkable by the wrath of the Brahmanas. I know also the energy of _Munis_ of souls under complete control and endued with blazing ascetic merit. The fire of their wrath to this day hath not been extinguished in the forest of Dandaka. It was for his having disregarded the Brahmanas that the great _Asura_--the wicked and evil-minded Vatapi was digested when he came in contact with Agastya. It hath been heard by us that the powers and merits of high-souled Brahmanas are great. But, O Brahmana, as regenerate ones of high souls are great in wrath, so are they equally great in forgiveness. Therefore, O sinless one, it behoveth thee to forgive me in the matter of this my offence. O Brahmana, my heart inclineth to that merit which springeth from the service of my husband, for I regard my husband as the highest among all the gods. O best of Brahmanas, I practise that virtue which consists in serving my husband whom I regard as the highest Deity. Behold, O regenerate one, the merit that attaches to the service of one's husband! I know that thou hast burnt a she-crane with thy wrath! But, O best of regenerate ones, the anger that a person cherishes is the greatest of foes which that person hath. The gods know him for a Brahmana who hath cast off anger and passion. The gods know him for a Brahmana who always speaketh the truth here, who always gratifieth his preceptor, and who, though injured himself, never returneth the injury. The gods know him for a Brahmana who hath his senses under control, who is virtuous and pure and devoted to the study of the Vedas, and who hath mastery over anger and lust. The gods know him for a Brahmana who, cognisant of morals and endued with mental energy, is catholic in religion and looketh upon all equal unto himself. The gods know him for a Brahmana who studieth himself and teacheth others, who performeth sacrifices himself and officiateth at the sacrifices of others, and who giveth away to the best of his means. The gods know that bull among the regenerate ones for a Brahmana who, endued with liberality of soul, practiseth the _Brahmacharya_ vow and is devoted to study,--in fact who is vigilantly devoted to the study of the _Vedas_. Whatever conduceth to the happiness of the Brahmanas is always recited before these. Ever taking pleasure in truth, the hearts of such men never find joy in untruth. O thou best of regenerate ones, it hath been said that the study of the Vedas, tranquillity of soul, simplicity of behaviour, and repression of the senses, constitute the eternal duties of the Brahmana. Those cognisant with virtue and morals have said that truth and honesty are the highest virtue. Virtue that is eternal is difficult of being understood. But whatever it is, it is based on _truth_. The ancients have declared that virtue dependeth on _sruti_. But, O foremost of regenerate ones, virtue as exposed in _sruti_ appears to be of various kinds. It is, therefore, too subtle of comprehension. Thou, O holy one, art cognisant of virtue, pure, and devoted to the study of the _Vedas_. I think, however, O holy one, that thou dost not know what virtue in reality is. Repairing to the city of Mithila, enquire thou of a virtuous fowler there, if indeed, O regenerate one, thou art not really acquainted with what constitutes the highest virtue. There liveth in Mithila a fowler who is truthful and devoted to the service of his parents and who hath senses under complete control. Even he will discourse to thee on virtue. Blessed be thou, O best of regenerate ones, if thou likest, repair thither. O faultless one, it behoveth thee to forgive me, if what I have said be unpalatable, for they that are desirous of acquiring virtue are incapable of injuring women!" "'At these words of the chaste woman, the Brahmana replied, saying, "I am gratified with thee. Blessed be thou; my anger hath subsided, O beautiful one! The reproofs uttered by thee will be of the highest advantage to me. Blessed be thou, I shall now go and accomplish what is so conducive, O handsome one, to my benefit!" "Markandeya continued, 'Dismissed by her, Kausika, that best of regenerate ones, left her house, and, reproaching himself, returned to his own abode.'" SECTION CCVI "Markandeya said, 'Continually reflecting upon that wonderful discourse of the woman, Kausika began to reproach himself and looked very much like a guilty person and meditating on the subtle ways of morality and virtue, he said to himself, "I should accept with reverence what the lady hath said and should, therefore, repair to Mithila. Without doubt there dwelleth in that city a fowler of soul under complete control and fully acquainted with the mysteries of virtue and morality. This very day will I repair unto that one endued with wealth of asceticism for enquiring of him about virtue." His faith in her was assured by her knowledge of the death of the she-crane and the excellent words of virtuous import she had uttered. Kausika thus reflecting with reverence upon all she had said, set out for Mithila, filled with curiosity. And he traversed many forests and villages and towns and at last reached Mithila that was ruled over by Janaka and he beheld the city to be adorned with the flags of various creeds. And he beheld that beautiful town to be resounding with the noise of sacrifices and festivities and furnished with splendid gateways. It abounded with palatial residences and protected by walls on all sides; it had many splendid buildings to boast of. And that delightful town was also filled with innumerable cars. And its streets and roads were many and well-laid and many of them were lined with shops. And it was full of horses and cars and elephants and warriors. And the citizens were all in health and joy and they were always engaged in festivities. And having entered that city, that Brahmana beheld there many other things. And there the Brahmana enquired about the virtuous fowler and was answered by some twice-born persons. And repairing to the place indicated by those regenerate ones, the Brahmana beheld the fowler seated in a butcher's yard and the ascetic fowler was then selling venison and buffalo meat and in consequence of the large concourse of buyers gathered round that fowler, Kausika stood at a distance. But the fowler, apprehending that the Brahmana had come to him, suddenly rose from his seat and went to that secluded spot where the Brahmana was staying and having approached him there, the fowler said, "I salute thee, O holy one! Welcome art thou, O thou best of Brahmanas! I am the fowler. Blessed be thou! Command me as to what I may do for thee. The word that the chaste woman said unto thee, viz., _Repair thou to Mithila_, are known to me. I also know for what purpose thou hast come hither." Hearing these words of the fowler that Brahmana was filled with surprise. And he began to reflect inwardly, saying, "This indeed, is the second marvel that I see!" The fowler then said unto the Brahmana, saying, "Thou art now standing in place that is scarcely proper for thee, O sinless one. If it pleasest thee, let us go to my abode, O holy one!"' "Markandeya continued, '"_So be it_," said the Brahmana unto him, gladly. And thereupon, the fowler proceeded towards his home with the Brahmana walking before him. And entering his abode that looked delightful, the fowler reverenced his guest by offering him a seat. And he also gave him water to wash his feet and face. And accepting these, that best of Brahmanas sat at his ease. And he then addressed the fowler, saying, "It seems to me that this profession doth not befit thee. O fowler, I deeply regret that thou shouldst follow such a cruel trade." At these words of the Brahmana the fowler said, "This profession is that of my family, myself having inherited it from my sires and grandsires. O regenerate one, grieve not for me owing to my adhering to the duties that belong to me by birth. Discharging the duties ordained for me beforehand by the Creator, I carefully serve my superiors and the old. O thou best of Brahmanas! I always speak the truth, never envy others; and give to the best of my power. I live upon what remaineth after serving the gods, guests, and those that depend on me. I never speak ill of anything, small or great. O thou best of Brahmanas, the actions of a former life always follow the doer. In this world there are three principal professions, viz., agriculture, rearing of cattle, and trade. As regards the other world, the three _Vedas_, knowledge, and the science of morals are efficacious. Service (of the other three orders) hath been ordained to be the duty of the Sudra. Agriculture hath been ordained for the Vaisyas, and fighting for the Kshatriyas, while the practice of the _Brahmacharya_ vow, asceticism, recitation of _mantras_, and truthfulness have been ordained for the Brahmanas. Over subjects adhering to their proper duties, the king should rule virtuously; while he should set those thereto that have fallen away from the duties of their order. Kings should ever be feared, because they are the lords of their subjects. They restrain those subjects of theirs that fall away from their duties as they restrain the motions of the deer by means of their shafts. O regenerate _Rishi_, there existeth not in the kingdom of Janaka a single subject that followeth not the duties of his birth. O thou best of the Brahmanas, all the four orders here rigidly adhere to their respective duties. King Janaka punisheth him that is wicked, even if he be his own son; but never doth he inflict pain on him that is virtuous. With good and able spies employed under him, he looketh upon all with impartial eyes. Prosperity, and kingdom, and capacity to punish, belong, O thou best of Brahmanas, to the Kshatriyas. Kings desire high prosperity through practice of the duties that belong to them. The king is the protector of all the four orders. As regards myself, O Brahmana, I always sell pork and buffalo meat without slaying those animals myself. I sell meat of animals, O regenerate _Rishi_, that have been slain by others. I never eat meat myself; never go to my wife except in her season; I always fast during the day, and eat, O regenerate one, in the night. Even though the behaviour of his order is bad, a person may yet be himself of good behaviour. So also a person may become virtuous, although he may be slayer of animals by profession. It is in consequence of the sinful acts of kings that virtue decreaseth greatly, and sin beginneth to prosper. And when all this taketh place the subjects of the kingdom begin to decay. And it is then, O Brahmana, that ill-looking monsters, and dwarfs, and hunch-backed and large-headed wights, and men that are blind or deaf or those that have paralysed eyes or are destitute of the power of procreation, begin to take their birth. It is from the sinfulness of kings that their subjects suffer numerous mischiefs. But this our king Janaka casteth his eyes upon all his subjects virtuously, and he is always kind unto them who, on their part, ever adhere to their respective duties. Regarding myself, I always with good deeds please those that speak well, as also those that speak ill of me. Those kings that live in the observance of their own proper duties, who are always engaged in the practice of acts that are good and honest, who are of souls under complete control and who are endued with readiness and alacrity, may not depend upon anything else for supporting their power. Gift of food to the best of one's power, endurance of heat and cold, firmness in virtue, and a regard and tenderness for all creatures,--these attributes can never find place in a person, without an innate desire being present in him of separating himself from the world. One should avoid falsehood in speech, and should do good without solicitation. One should never cast off virtue from lust, from wrath, or from malice. One should never joy immoderately at a good turn or grieve immoderately at a bad one. One should never feel depressed when overtaken by poverty, nor when so overtaken abandon the path of virtue. If at any time one doth what is wrong, he should never do its like again. One should always urge his soul to the doing of that which he regardeth as beneficial. One should never return wrong for wrong, but should act honestly by those that have wronged him. That wretched man who desireth to do what is sinful, slayeth himself. By doing what is sinful, one only imitates them that are wicked and sinful. Disbelieving in virtue they that mock the good and the pure saying, '_There is no virtue_' undoubtedly meet with destruction. A sinful man swelleth up like a leather bag puffed up with wind. The thoughts of these wretches filled with pride and folly are feeble and unprofitable. It is the heart, the inner soul, that discovereth the fool like the sun that discovereth forms during the day. The food cannot always shine in the world by means of self-praise. The learned man, however, even if he be destitute of beauty, displayeth his lustre by refraining from speaking ill of others and well of himself. No example, however, can be met with, in this world, of a person shining brilliantly on account of attributes to be found in him in their reputed measure. If one repenteth of a wrong done by him, that repentance washeth off his sin. The resolution of never doing it again saveth him from future sin, even as, O thou best of Brahmanas, he may save himself from sin by any of those expiations obtained in the scriptures. Even this, O regenerate one, is the _sruti_ that may be seen in respect of virtue. He that having before been virtuous, committeth a sin, or committeth it unknowingly may destroy that sin. For virtue, O Brahmana, driveth off the sin that men commit from ignorance. A man, after having committed a sin, should cease to regard himself any longer as a man. No man can conceal his sins. The gods behold what one does, also the Being that is within every one. He that with piety and without detraction hideth the faults of the honest and the wise like holes in his own attire, surely seeketh his salvation. If a man seeketh redemption after having committed a sin, without doubt he is purged of all his sins and looketh pure and resplendent like the moon emerged from the clouds. A man that seeketh redemption is washed of all his sins, even as the sun, upon rising, dispelleth all darkness. O best of Brahmanas, it is temptation that constitutes the basis of sin. Men that are ignorant commit sin, yielding to temptation alone. Sinful men generally cover themselves with a virtuous exterior, like wells whose mouths are covered by long grass. Outwardly they seem to possess self-control and holiness and indulge in preaching virtuous texts which, in their mouth are of little meaning. Indeed, everything may be noticed in them except conduct that is truly virtuous!"' "Markandeya continued, 'At these words, O best of men, of the fowler, that Brahmana endued with great wisdom, then asked the fowler, saying, "How shall I know what is virtuous conduct? Blessed be thou, I desire to hear this, O thou foremost of virtuous men, from thee. Therefore, O thou of exalted soul, tell me all about it truly." Hearing these words, the fowler replied, saying, "O best of Brahmanas, Sacrifices, Gift, Asceticism, the Vedas, and Truth--these five holy things are ever present in conduct that is called virtuous. Having subjugated lust and wrath, pride, avarice, and crookedness, they that take pleasure in virtue because it is virtue, are regarded as really virtuous and worthy of the approbation of persons that are virtuous. These persons who are devoted to sacrifices, and study of the Vedas have no independent behaviour. They follow only the practices of the honest and the good. This indeed, is the second attribute of the virtuous. Waiting upon superiors, Truth, Freedom from anger, and Gift, these four, O Brahmana, are inseparably connected with behaviour that is virtuous. For the reputation that a person acquires by setting his heart on virtuous behaviour and adhering to it rigidly is incapable of acquisition except by practising the four virtues named above. The essence of the _Vedas_ is Truth: the essence of Truth is self-control, and the essence of self-control is abstention from the pleasures of the world. These all are to be noticed in behaviour that is virtuous. They that follow those deluded fools that mock the forms of faith prevailing among men, are dragged into destruction for walking in such a sinful path. They, however, that are virtuous and engaged in the observance of vows, who are devoted to the _srutis_ and the virtue of abstention from the pleasure of the world, they in fact who tread in virtue's path and follow the true religion, they that are obedient to the mandates of their preceptors, and who reflect upon the sense of the scriptures with patience and carefulness,--it is these that are said to be possessed of behaviour that is virtuous; it is these, O Brahmana, that are said to properly guide their higher intelligence. Forsaking those that are atheists, those that transgress virtue's limits, those that are of wicked souls, those that live in sinfulness, betake thyself to knowledge reverencing those that are virtuous. Lust and temptation are even like sharks in the river of life; the waters are the five senses. Do thou cross over to the other side of this river in the boat of patience and resignation, avoiding the shoals of corporeal existence (repeated births in this world). The supreme virtue consisting in the exercise of the intelligent principle and abstraction, when gradually super-added to virtuous conduct, becomes beautiful like dye on white fabrics. Truthfulness and abstention from doing injury to any one, are virtues highly beneficial to all creatures. Of these, that latter is a cardinal virtue, and is based on truth. Our mental faculties have their proper play when their foundation is laid in truth, and in the exercise of virtue truth is of the highest value. Purity of conduct is the characteristic of all good men. Those that are distinguished for holy living are good and virtuous. All creatures follow the principles of conduct which are innate in their nature. The sinful being who has no control over self acquires lust, anger and other vices. It is the immemorial rule that virtuous actions are those that are founded on justice, and it is also ordained by holy men that all iniquitous conduct is sin. Those who are not swayed by anger, pride, haughtiness and envy, and those who are quiet and straight-forward, are men of virtuous conduct. Those who are diligent in performing the rites enjoined in the three _Vedas_, who are wise, and of pure and virtuous conduct, who exercise self-restraint and are full of attention to their superior, are men of virtuous conduct. The actions and conduct of such men of great power, are very difficult of attainment. They are sanctified by the purification of their own actions, and consequently sin in them dies out of itself. This virtue of good conduct is wonderful, ancient, immutable and eternal; and wise men observing this virtue with holiness, attain to heaven. These men who believe in the existence of the Deity, who are free from false pride, and versed in holy writ, and who respect regenerate (twice-born) men, go to heaven. Among holy men, virtue is differentiated in three ways--that great virtue which is inculcated in the _Vedas_, the other which is inculcated in the _dharmashastras_ (the minor scriptures), and virtuous conduct. And virtuous conduct is indicated by acquisition of knowledge, pilgrimage to sacred places, truthfulness, forbearance, purity and straight-forwardness. Virtuous men are always kind to all creatures, and well-disposed towards regenerate men. They abstain from doing injury to any creature, and are never rude in speech. Those good men who know well the consequences of the fruition of their good and evil deeds, are commended by virtuous men. Those who are just and good-natured, and endowed with virtue, who wish well of all creatures, who are steadfast in the path of virtue, and have conquered heaven, who are charitable, unselfish and of unblemished character, who succour the afflicted, and are learned and respected by all, who practise austerities, and are kind to all creatures, are commended as such by the virtuous. Those who are charitably disposed attain prosperity in this world, as also the regions of bliss (hereafter). The virtuous man when solicited for assistance by good men bestow alms on them by straining to the utmost, even to the deprivation of the comforts of his wife and servants. Good men having an eye to their own welfare, as also virtue and the ways of the world, act in this way and thereby grow in virtue through endless ages. Good persons possessing the virtues of truthfulness, abstention from doing injury to any one, rectitude, abstention from evil towards any one, want of haughtiness, modesty, resignation, self-restraint, absence of passion, wisdom, patience, and kindness towards all creatures, and freedom from malice and lust, are the witnesses of the world. These three are said to constitute the perfect way of the virtuous, viz., a man must not do wrong to any body, he must bestow alms, and must always be truthful. Those high-souled good men of virtuous conduct, and settled convictions, who are kind to all and are full of compassion, depart with contentment from this world to the perfect way of virtue. Freedom from malice, forbearance, peace of mind, contentment, pleasant speech, renunciation of desire and anger, virtuous conduct and actions regulated according to the ordinances of holy writ, constitute the perfect way of the virtuous. And those who are constant in virtue follow these rules of virtuous conduct, and having reached the pinnacle of knowledge, and discriminating between the various phases of human conduct, which are either very virtuous or the reverse, they escape from the great danger. Thus, O great Brahmana, having introduced the subject of virtuous conduct, have I described to thee all this, according to my own knowledge and to what I have heard on the subject."'" SECTION CCVII "Markandeya continued, 'The pious fowler, O Yudhishthira, then said to that Brahmana, "Undoubtedly my deeds are very cruel, but, O Brahmana, Destiny is all-powerful and it is difficult to evade the consequence of our past actions. And this is the _karmic evil_ arising out of sin committed in a former life. But, O Brahmana, I am always assiduous in eradicating the evil. The Deity takes away life, the executioner acts only as a secondary agent. And we, O good Brahmana, are only such agents in regard to our _karma_. Those animals that are slain by me and whose meat I sell, also acquire _karma_, because (with their meat), gods and guests and servants are regaled with dainty food and the _manes_ are propitiated. It is said authoritatively that herbs and vegetables, deer, birds and wild animals constitute the food of all creatures. And, O Brahmana, king Sivi, the son of Usinara, of great forbearance attained to heaven, which is hard to reach, giving away his own flesh. And in days of yore, O Brahmana, two thousand animals used to be killed every day in the kitchen of king Rantideva; and in the same manner two thousand cows were killed every day; and, O best of regenerate beings, king Rantideva acquired unrivalled reputation by distributing food with meat every day. For the performance of the fourmonthly rites animals ought to be sacrificed daily. 'The sacred fire is fond of animal food,' this saying has come down to us. And at sacrifices animals are invariably killed by regenerate Brahmanas, and these animals being purged of sin, by incantation of hymns, go to heaven. If, O Brahmana, the sacred fire had not been so fond of animal food in ancient times, it could never have become the food of any one. And in this matter of animal food, this rule has been laid down by _Munis_:--Whoever partakes of animal food after having first offered it duly and respectfully to the gods and the _manes_, is not polluted by the act. And such a man is not at all considered to have partaken of animal food, even, as a Brahmacharin having intercoursed with his wife during the menstrual period, is nevertheless considered to be a good Brahmana. After consideration of the propriety and impropriety of the matter, this rule has been laid down. King Saudasa, O Brahmana, when under a curse, often used to prey upon men; what is thy opinion of this matter? And, O good Brahmana, knowing this to be the consequence of my own actions, I obtain my livelihood from this profession. The forsaking of one's own occupation is considered, O Brahmana, to be a sin, and the act of sticking to one's own profession is without doubt a meritorious act. The _Karma_ of a former existence never forsakes any creature. And in determining the various consequences of one's _Karma_, this rule was not lost sight of by the Creator. A person having his being under the influence of evil _Karma_, must always consider how he can atone for his _Karma_, and extricate himself from an evil doom, and the evil _Karma_ may be expiated in various ways. Accordingly, O good Brahmana, I am charitable, truthful, assiduous in attending on my superior, full of respect towards regenerate Brahmanas, devoted to and free from pride and (idle) excessive talk. Agriculture is considered to be a praiseworthy occupation, but it is well-known that even there, great harm is done to animal life; and in the operation of digging the earth with the plough, numberless creatures lurking in the ground as also various other forms of animal life are destroyed. Dost thou not think so? O good Brahmana, _Vrihi_ and other seeds of rice are all living organisms. What is thy opinion on this matter? Men, O Brahmana, hunt wild animals and kill them and partake of their meat; they also cut up trees and herbs; but, O Brahmana, there are numberless living organisms in trees, in fruits, as also in water; dost thou not think so? This whole creation, O Brahmana, is full of animal life, sustaining itself with food derived from living organisms. Dost thou not mark that fish preys upon fish, and that various species of animals prey upon other species, and there are species the members of which prey upon each other? Men, O Brahmana, while walking about hither and thither, kill numberless creatures lurking in the ground by trampling on them, and even men of wisdom and enlightenment destroy animal life in various ways, even while sleeping or reposing themselves. What hast thou to say to this?--The earth and the air all swarm with living organisms, which are unconsciously destroyed by men from mere ignorance. Is not this so? The commandment that people should not do harm to any creature, was ordained of old by men, who were ignorant of the true facts of the case. For, O Brahmana, there is not a man on the face of this earth, who is free from the sin of doing injury to creatures. After full consideration, the conclusion is irresistible that there is not a single man who is free from the sin of doing injury to animal life. Even the sage, O good Brahmana, whose vow is to do harm to no creature, doth inflict injury to animal life. Only, on account of greater needfulness, the harm is less. Men of noble birth and great qualities perpetrate wicked acts in defiance of all, of which they are not at all ashamed. Good men acting in an exemplary way are not commended by other good men; nor are bad men acting in a contrary way praised by their wicked compeers; and friends are not agreeable to friends, albeit endowed with high qualities; and foolish pedantic men cry down the virtues of their preceptors. This reversal of the natural order of things, O good Brahmana, is seen everywhere in this world. What is thy opinion as to the virtuousness or otherwise of this state of things? There is much that can be said of the goodness or badness of our actions. But whoever is addicted to his own proper occupation surely acquires great reputation."'" SECTION CCVIII "Markandeya continued, 'O Yudhishthira, the virtuous fowler, eminent in pity, then skilfully addressed himself again to that foremost of Brahmanas, saying, "It is the dictum of the aged that the ways of righteousness are subtle, diverse and infinite. When life is at stake and in the matter of marriage, it is proper to tell an untruth. Untruth sometimes leads to the triumph of truth, and the latter dwindles into untruth. Whichever conduces most to the good of all creatures is considered to be truth. Virtue is thus perverted; mark thou its subtle ways. O best of virtuous men, man's actions are either good or bad, and he undoubtedly reaps their fruits. The ignorant man having attained to an abject state, grossly abuses the gods, not knowing that it is the consequence of his own evil _karma_. The foolish, the designing and the fickle, O good Brahmana, always attain the very reverse of happiness or misery. Neither learning nor good morals, nor personal exertion can save them. And if the fruits of our exertion were not dependent on anything else, people would attain the object of their desire, by simply striving to attain it. It is seen that able, intelligent and diligent persons are baffled in their efforts, and do not attain the fruits of their actions. On the other hand, persons who are always active in injuring others and in practising deception on the world, lead a happy life. There are some who attain prosperity without any exertion. And there are others, who with the utmost exertion, are unable to achieve their dues. Miserly persons with the object of having sons born to them worship the gods, and practise severe austerities, and those sons having remained in the womb for ten months at length turn out to be very infamous issue of their race; and others begotten under the same auspices, decently pass their lives in luxury with heaps of riches and grain accumulated by their ancestors. The diseases from which men suffer, are undoubtedly the result of their own _karma_. They then behave like small deer at the hands of hunters, and they are racked with mental troubles. And, O Brahmana, as hunters intercept the flight of their game, the progress of those diseases is checked by able and skilful physicians with their collections of drugs. And, thou best of the cherishers of religion, thou hast observed that those who have it in their power to enjoy (the good things of this earth), are prevented from doing so from the fact of their suffering from chronic bowel-complaints, and that many others that are strong and powerful, suffer from misery, and are enabled with great difficulty to obtain a livelihood; and that every man is thus helpless, overcome by misery and illusion, and again and again tossed and overpowered by the powerful current of his own actions (_karma_). If there were absolute freedom of action, no creature would die, none would be subject to decay, or await his evil doom, and everybody would attain the object of his desire. All persons desire to out distance their neighbours (in the race of life), and they strive to do so to the utmost of their power; but the result turns out otherwise. Many are the persons born under the influence of the same star and the same auspices of good luck; but a great diversity is observable in the maturity of their actions. No person, O good Brahmana, can be the dispenser of his own lot. The actions done in a previous existence are seen to fructify in our present life. It is the immemorial tradition that the soul is eternal and everlasting, but the corporeal frame of all creatures is subject to destruction here (below). When therefore life is extinguished, the body only is destroyed, but the spirit, wedded to its actions, travels elsewhere." "'The Brahmana replied, "O best of those versed in the doctrine of _karma_, and in the delivery of discourses, I long to know accurately how the soul becomes eternal." The fowler replied, "The spirit dies not, there being simply a change of tenement. They are mistaken, who foolishly say that all creatures die. The soul betakes itself to another frame, and its change of habitation is called its death. In the world of men, no man reaps the consequences of another man's _karma_. Whatever one does, he is sure to reap the consequences thereof; for the consequences of the _karma_ that is once done, can never be obviated. The virtuous become endowed with great virtues, and sinful men become the perpetrators of wicked deeds. Men's actions follow them; and influenced by these, they are born again." The Brahmana enquired, "Why does the spirit take its birth, and why does its nativity become sinful or virtuous, and how, O good man, does it come to belong to a sinful or virtuous race?" The fowler replied, "This mystery seems to belong to the subject of procreation, but I shall briefly describe to you, O good Brahmana, how the spirit is born again with its accumulated load of _karma_, the righteous in a virtuous, and the wicked in a sinful nativity. By the performance of virtuous actions it attains to the state of the gods, and by a combination of good and evil, it acquires the human state; by indulgence in sensuality and similar demoralising practices it is born in the lower species of animals, and by sinful acts, it goes to the infernal regions. Afflicted with the miseries of birth and dotage, man is fated to rot here below from the evil consequences of his own actions. Passing through thousands of births as also the infernal regions, our spirits wander about, secured by the fetters of their own _karma_. Animate beings become miserable in the next world on account of these actions done by themselves and from the reaction of those miseries, they assume lower births and then they accumulate a new series of actions, and they consequently suffer misery over again, like sickly men partaking of unwholesome food; and although they are thus afflicted, they consider themselves to be happy and at ease and consequently their fetters are not loosened and new _karma_ arises; and suffering from diverse miseries they turn about in this world like a wheel. If casting off their fetters they purify themselves by their actions and practise austerities and religious meditations, then, O best of Brahmanas, they attain the Elysian regions by these numerous acts and by casting off their fetters and by the purification of _karma_, men attain those blissful regions where misery is unknown to those who go there. The sinful man who is addicted to vices, never comes to the end of his course of iniquities. Therefore must we strive to do what is virtuous and forbear from doing what is unrighteous. Whoever with a heart full of gratefulness and free from malice strives to do what is good, attains wealth, virtue, happiness and heaven (hereafter). Those who are purified of sins, wise, forbearing, constant in righteousness, and self-restrained enjoy continuous felicity in this as well as in the next world. Man must follow the standard of virtue of the good and in his acts imitate the example of the righteous. There are virtuous men, versed in holy writ and learned in all departments of knowledge. Man's proper duty consists in following his own proper avocation, and this being the case these latter do not become confused and mixed up. The wise man delights in virtue and lives by righteousness. And, O good Brahmana, such a man with the wealth of righteousness which he hereby acquires, waters the root of the plant in which he finds most virtue. The virtuous man acts thus and his mind is calmed. He is pleased with his friends in this world and he also attains happiness hereafter. Virtuous people, O good man, acquire dominion over all and the pleasure of beauty, flavour, sound and touch according to their desire. These are known to be the rewards of virtue. But the man of enlightened vision, O great Brahmana, is not satisfied with reaping the fruits of righteousness. Not content with that, he with the light of spiritual wisdom that is in him, becomes indifferent to pain and pleasure and the vice of the world influenceth him not. Of his own free will he becometh indifferent to worldly pursuits but he forsaketh not virtue. Observing that everything worldly is evanescent, he trieth to renounce everything and counting on more chance he deviseth means for the attainment of salvation. Thus doth he renounce the pursuits of the world, shunneth the ways of sin, becometh virtuous and at last attaineth salvation. Spiritual wisdom is the prime requisite of men for salvation, resignation and forbearance are its roots. By this means he attaineth all the objects of this desire. But subduing the senses and by means of truthfulness and forbearance, he attaineth, O good Brahmana, the supreme asylum of _Brahma_." The Brahmana again enquired, "O thou most eminent in virtue and constant in the performance of the religious obligations, you talk of senses; what are they; how may they be subdued; and what is the good of subduing them; and how doth a creature reap the fruits thereof? O pious man, I beg to acquaint myself with the truth of this matter."'" SECTION CCIX "Markandeya continued, 'Hear, O king Yudhishthira what the virtuous fowler, thus interrogated by that Brahmana, said to him in reply. The fowler said, "Men's minds are at first bent on the acquisition of knowledge. That acquired, O good Brahmana, they indulge in their passions and desires, and for that end, they labour and set about tasks of great magnitude and indulge in much-desired pleasures of beauty, flavour, &c. Then follows fondness, then envy, then avarice and then extinction of all spiritual light. And when men are thus influenced by avarice, and overcome by envy and fondness, their intellect ceases to be guided by righteousness and they practise the very mockery of virtue. Practising virtue with hypocrisy, they are content to acquire wealth by dishonourable means with the wealth thus acquired the intelligent principle in them becomes enamoured of those evil ways, and they are filled with a desire to commit sins. And when, O good Brahmana, their friends and men of wisdom remonstrate with them, they are ready with specious answers, which are neither sound nor convincing. From their being addicted to evil ways, they are guilty of a threefold sin. They commit sin in thought, in word, as also in action. They being addicted to wicked ways, all their good qualities die out, and these men of wicked deeds cultivate the friendship of men of similar character, and consequently they suffer misery in this world as well as in the next. The sinful man is of this nature, and now hear of the man of virtue. He discerns these evils by means of his spiritual insight, and is able to discriminate between happiness and misery, and is full of respectful attention to men of virtue, and from practising virtues, his mind becomes inclined to righteousness." The Brahmana replied, "Thou hast given a true exposition of religion which none else is able to expound. Thy spiritual power is great, and thou dost appear to me to be like a great _Rishi_." The fowler replied, "The great Brahmanas are worshipped with the same honours as our ancestors and they are always propitiated with offerings of food before others. Wise men in this world do what is pleasing to them, with all their heart. And I shall, O good Brahmana, describe to thee what is pleasing to them, after having bowed down to Brahmanas as a class. Do thou learn from me the Brahmanic philosophy. This whole universe unconquerable everywhere and abounding in great elements, is Brahma, and there is nothing higher than this. The earth, air, water, fire and sky are the great elements. And form, odour, sound, touch and taste are their characteristic properties. These latter too have their properties which are also correlated to each other. And of the three qualities, which are gradually characterised by each, in order of priority is consciousness which is called the mind. The seventh is intelligence and after that comes egoism; and then the five senses, then the soul, then the moral qualities called _sattwa, rajas_ and _tamas_. These seventeen are said to be the unknown or incomprehensible qualities. I have described all this to thee, what else dost thou wish to know?"'" SECTION CCX "Markandeya continued, 'O Bharata, the Brahmana, thus interrogated by the virtuous fowler, resumed again this discourse so pleasing to the mind. The Brahmana said, "O best of the cherishers of religion, it is said that there are five great elements; do thou describe to me in full the properties of any one of the five." The fowler replied, "The earth, water, fire, air and sky all have properties interlapping each other. I shall describe them to thee. The earth, O Brahmana, has five qualities, water four, fire three and the air and sky together three also. Sound, touch, form, odour and taste--these five qualities belong to earth, and sound, touch, form and taste, O austere Brahmana, have been described to thee as the properties of water, and sound, touch and form are the three properties of fire and air has two properties sound and touch, and sound is the property of sky. And, O Brahmana, these fifteen properties inherent in five elements, exist in all substances of which this universe is composed. And they are not opposed to one another; they exist, O Brahmana, in proper combination. When this whole universe is thrown into a state of confusion, then every corporeal being in the fulness of time, assumes another _corpus_. It arises and perishes in due order. And there are present the five elementary substances of which all the mobile and immobile world is composed. Whatever is perceptible by the senses, is called _vyakta_ (knowable or comprehensible) and whatever is beyond the reach of the senses and can only be perceived by guesses, is known to be _avyakta_ (not _vyakta_). When a person engages in the discipline of self-examination, after having subdued the senses which have of their own proper objective play in the external conditions of sound, form, &c, then he beholds his own spirit pervading the universe, and the universe reflected in itself. He who is wedded to his previous _karma_, although skilled in the highest spiritual wisdom, is cognisant only of his soul's objective existence, but the person whose soul is never affected by the objective conditions around, is never subject to ills, owing to its absorption in the elementary spirit of Brahma. When a person has overcome the domination of illusion, his manly virtues consisting of the essence of spiritual wisdom, turn to the spiritual enlightenment which illumines the intelligence of sentient beings. Such a person is styled by the omnipotent, intelligent Spirit as one who is without beginning and without end, self-existent, immutable, incorporeal and incomparable. This, O Brahmana, that thou hast enquired of me is only the result of self discipline. And this self-discipline can only be acquired by subduing the senses. It cannot be otherwise, heaven and hell are both dependent on our senses. When subdued, they lead to heaven; when indulged in, they lead to perdition. This subjugation of the senses is the highest means of attaining spiritual light. Our senses are at the (cause) root of our spiritual advancement as also at the root of our spiritual degradation. By indulging in them, a person undoubtedly contracts vices, and by subduing these, he attains salvation. The self-restrained person who acquires mastery over the six senses inherent in our nature, is never tainted with sin, and consequently evil has no power over him. Man's corporeal self has been compared to a chariot, his soul to a charioteer and his senses to horses. A dexterous man drives about without confusion, like a quiet charioteer with well-broken horses. That man is an excellent driver who knows how to patiently wield the reins of those wild horses,--the six senses inherent in our nature. When our senses become ungovernable like horses on the high road, we must patiently rein them in; for with patience, we are sure to get the better of them. When a man's mind is overpowered by any one of these senses running wild, he loses his reason, and becomes like a ship tossed by storms upon the high ocean. Men are deceived by illusion in hoping to reap the fruits of those six things, whose effects are studied by persons of spiritual insight, who thereby reap the fruits of their clear perception."'" SECTION CCXI "Markandeya continued, 'O Bharata, the fowler having expounded these abstruse points, the Brahmana with great attention again enquired of him about these subtle topics. The Brahmana said, "Do thou truly describe to me, who now duly ask thee, the respective virtues of the qualities of _sattwa, rajas_, and _tamas_." The fowler replied, "Very well, I shall tell thee what thou hast asked. I shall describe separately their respective virtues, do thou listen. Of them _tamas_ is characterised by illusion (spiritual), _rajas_ incites (men to action), _sattwa_ is of great grandeur, and on that account, it is said to be the greatest of them. He who is greatly under the influence of spiritual ignorance, who is foolish, senseless and given to dreaming, who is idle, unenergetic and swayed by anger and haughtiness, is said to be under the influence of _tamas_. And, O Brahmana _rishi_, that excellent man who is agreeable in speech, thoughtful, free from envy, industrious in action from an eager desire to reap its fruits, and of warm temperament, is said to be under the influence of _rajas_. And he who is resolute, patient, not subject to anger, free from malice, and is not skilful in action from want of a selfish desire to reap its fruits, wise and forbearing, is said to be under the influence of _sattwa_. When a man endowed with the _sattwa_ quality, is influenced by worldliness, he suffers misery; but he hates worldliness, when he realises its full significance. And then a feeling of indifference to worldly affairs begins to influence him. And then his pride decreases, and uprightness becomes more prominent, and his conflicting moral sentiments are reconciled. And then self-restraint in any matter becomes unnecessary. A man, O Brahmana, may be born in the Sudra caste, but if he is possessed of good qualities, he may attain the state of _Vaisya_ and similarly that of a _Kshatriya_, and if he is steadfast in rectitude, he may even become a Brahmana. I have described to thee these virtues, what else dost thou wish to learn?"'" SECTION CCXII "'The Brahmana enquired, "How is it that fire (vital force) in combination with the earthly element (matter), becomes the corporeal tenement (of living creatures), and how doth the vital air (the breath of life) according to the nature of its seat (the muscles and nerves) excite to action (the corporeal frame)?"' Markandeya said, 'This question, O Yudhishthira, having been put to the Brahmana by the fowler, the latter, in reply, said to that high-minded Brahmana. (The fowler said):--"The vital spirit manifesting itself in the seat of consciousness, causes the action of the corporeal frame. And the soul being present in both of them acts (through them). The past, the present and the future are inseparably associated with the soul. And it is the highest of a creature's possessions; it is of the essence of the Supreme Spirit and we adore it. It is the animating principle of all creatures, and it is the eternal _pumsha_ (spirit). It is great and it is the intelligence and the _ego_, and it is the subjective seat of the various properties of elements. Thus while seated here (in a corporeal frame) it is sustained in all its relations external or internal (to matter or mind) by the subtle ethereal air called _prana_, and thereafter, each creature goes its own way by the action of another subtle air called _Samana_. And this latter transforming itself into _Apana_ air, and supported by the head of the stomach carries the refuse matter of the body, urine &c, to the kidneys and intestines. That same air is present in the three elements of effort, exertion and power, and in that condition it is called _Udana_ air by persons learned in physical science, and when manifesting itself by its presence at all the junctional points of the human system, it is known by the name _Vyana_. And the internal heat is diffused over all the tissues of our system, and supported by these kinds of air, it transforms our food and the tissues and the humours of our system. And by the coalition of _Prana_ and other airs, a reaction (combination) ensues, and the heat generated thereby is known as the internal heat of the human system which causes the digestion of our food. The _Prana_ and the _Apana_ air are interposed within the _Samana_ and the _Udana_ air. And the heat generated by their coalition causes the growth of the body (consisting of the seven substances, bones, muscles, &c). And that portion of its seat extending to as far as the rectum is called _Apana_; and from that arteries arise in the five airs _Prana_, &c. The _Prana_ air, acted on by the heat strikes against the extremity of the _Apana_ region and then recoiling, it reacts on the heat. Above the navel is the region of undigested food and below it the region of digestion. And the _Prana_ and all other airs of the system are seated in the navel. The arteries issuing from the heart run upwards and downwards, as also in oblique directions; they carry the best essence of our food, and are acted upon by the ten _Prana_ airs. This is the way by which patient _Yogins_ who have overcome all difficulties, and who view things with an impartial and equal eye, with their souls seated in the brain, find the Supreme Spirit, the _Prana_ and the _Apana_ airs are thus present in the body of all creatures. Know that the spirit is embodied in corporeal disguise, in the eleven allotropous conditions (of the animal system), and that though eternal, its normal state is apparently modified by its accompaniments,--even like the fire purified in its pan,--eternal, yet with its course altered by its surroundings; and that the divine thing which is kindred with the body is related to the latter in the same way as a drop of water to the sleek surface of a lotus-leaf on which it rolls. Know that _sattwa, rajas_ and _tamas_, are the attributes of all life and that life is the attribute of spirit, and that the latter again is an attribute of the Supreme Spirit. Inert, insensible matter is the seat of the living principle, which is active in itself and induces activity in others. That thing by which the seven worlds are incited to action is called the most high by men of high spiritual insight. Thus in all these elements, the eternal spirit does not show itself, but is perceived by the learned in spiritual science by reason of their high and keen perception. A pure-minded person, by purification of his heart, is able to destroy the good and evil effect of his actions and attains eternal beatitude by the enlightenment of his inward spirit. That state of peace and purification of heart is likened to the state of a person who in a cheerful state of mind sleeps soundly, or the brilliance of a lamp trimmed by a skillful hand. Such a pure-minded person living on spare diet perceives the Supreme Spirit reflected in his own, and by practising concentration of mind in the evening and small hours of the night, he beholds the Supreme Spirit which has no attributes, in the light of his heart, shining like a dazzling lamp, and thus he attains salvation. Avarice and anger must be subdued by all means, for this act constitutes the most sacred virtue that people can practise and is considered to be the means by which men can cross over to the other side of this sea of affliction and trouble. A man must preserve his righteousness from being overcome by the evil consequences of anger, his virtues from the effects of pride, his learning from the effects of vanity, and his own spirit from illusion. Leniency is the best of virtues, and forbearance is the best of powers, the knowledge of our spiritual nature is the best of all knowledge, and truthfulness is the best of all religious obligations. The telling of truth is good, and the knowledge of truth may also be good, but what conduces to the greatest good of all creatures, is known as the highest truth. He whose actions are performed not with the object of securing any reward or blessing, who has sacrificed all to the requirements of his renunciation, is a real _Sannyasin_ and is really wise. And as communion with Brahma cannot be taught to us, even by our spiritual preceptor,--he only giving us a clue to the mystery--renunciation of the material world is called _Yoga_. We must not do harm to any creature and must live in terms of amity with all, and in this our present existence, we must not avenge ourselves on any creature. Self-abnegation, peace of mind, renunciation of hope, and equanimity,--these are the ways by which spiritual enlightenment can always be secured; and the knowledge of self (one's own spiritual nature) is the best of all knowledge. In this world as well as hereafter, renouncing all worldly desires and assuming a stoic indifference, wherein all suffering is at rest, people should fulfil their religious duties with the aid of their intelligence. The _muni_ who desires to obtain _moksha_ (salvation), which is very difficult to attain, must be constant in austerities, forbearing, self-restrained, and must give up that longing fondness which binds him to the things of this earth. They call these the attributes of the Supreme Spirit. The _gunas_ (qualities or attributes) that we are conscious of, reduce themselves to _agunas_ (non-gunas) in Him; He is not bound by anything, and is perceptible only by the expansion and development of our spiritual vision; as soon as the illusion of ignorance is dispelled, this supreme unalloyed beatitude is attained. By foregoing the objects of both pleasure and pain and by renouncing the feelings which bind him to the things of this earth, a man may attain Brahma (Supreme Spirit or salvation). O good Brahmana, I have now briefly explained to thee all this, as I have heard. What else dost thou wish to know?"'" SECTION CCXIII "Markandeya said, 'When, O Yudhishthira, all this mystery of salvation was explained to that Brahmana, he was highly pleased and he said addressing the fowler, "All this that thou hast explained, is rational, and it seems to me that there is nothing in connection with the mysteries of religion which thou dost not know." The fowler replied, "O good and great Brahmana, thou shalt perceive with thine own eyes, all the virtue that I lay claim to, and by reason of which I have attained this blissful state. Rise, worshipful sir, and quickly enter this inner apartment. O virtuous man, it is proper that thou shouldst see my father and my mother."' Markandeya continued, 'Thus addressed the Brahmana went in, and beheld a fine beautiful mansion. It was a magnificent house divided in four suites of rooms, admired by gods and looking like one of their palaces; it was also furnished with seats and beds, and redolent of excellent perfumes. His revered parents clad in white robes, having finished their meals, were seated at ease. The fowler, beholding them, prostrated himself before them with his head at their feet. His aged parents then addressed him thus, "Rise, O man of piety, rise, may righteousness shield thee; we are much pleased with thee for thy piety; mayst thou be blessed with a long life, and with knowledge, high intelligence, and fulfilment of thy desires. Thou art a good and dutiful son, for, we are constantly and reasonably looked after by thee, and even amongst the celestials thou hast not another divinity to worship. By constantly subduing thyself, thou hast become endowed with the self-restraining power of Brahmanas and all thy grandsires and ancestors are constantly pleased with thee for thy self-restraining virtues and for thy piety towards us. In thought, word or deed thy attention to us never flags, and it seems that at present thou hast no other thought in thy mind (save as to how to please us). As Rama, the son of Jamadagni, laboured to please his aged parents, so hast thou, O Son, done to please us, and even more." Then the fowler introduced the Brahmana to his parents and they received him with the usual salutation of welcome, and the Brahmana accepting their welcome, enquired if they, with their children and servants, were all right at home, and if they were always enjoying good health at that time (of life). The aged couple replied, "At home, O Brahmana, we are all right, with all our servants. Hast thou, adorable sir, reached this place without any difficulty?"' Markandeya continued, 'The Brahmana replied, "Yes, I have." Then the fowler addressing himself to the Brahmana said to him, "These my parents, worshipful sir, are the idols that I worship; whatever is due to the gods, I do unto them. As the thirty-three gods with Indra at their head are worshipped by men, so are these aged parents of mine worshipped by me. As Brahmanas exert themselves for the purpose of procuring offering for their gods, so do I act with diligence for these two (idols of mine). These my father and mother, O Brahmana, are my supreme gods, and I seek to please them always with offering of flowers, fruits and gems. To me they are like the three sacred fires mentioned by the learned; and, O Brahmana, they seem to me to be as good as sacrifices or the four _Vedas_. My five life-giving airs, my wife and children and friends are all for them (dedicated to their service). And with my wife and children I always attend on them. O good Brahmana, with my own hands I assist them in bathing and also wash their feet and give them food and I say to them only what is agreeable, leaving out what is unpleasant. I consider it to be my highest duty to do what is agreeable to them even though it be not strictly justifiable. And, O Brahmana, I am always diligent in attending on them. The two parents, the sacred fire, the soul and the spiritual preceptor, these five, O good Brahmana, are worthy of the highest reverence from a person who seeks prosperity. By serving them properly, one acquires the merit of perpetually keeping up the sacred fire. And it is the eternal and invariable duty of all householders."'" SECTION CCXIV "Markandeya continued, 'The virtuous fowler, having introduced his (both) parents to that Brahmana as his highest _gurus_, again spoke to him as follows, "Mark thou the power of this virtue of mine, by which my inner spiritual vision is extended. For this, thou wast told by that self-restrained, truthful lady, devoted to her husband, 'Hie thee to Mithila; for there lives a fowler who will explain to thee, the mysteries of religion.'" The Brahmana said, "O pious man, so constant in fulfilling thy religious obligations, bethinking myself of what that truthful good-natured lady so true to her husband, hath said, I am convinced that thou art really endowed with every high quality." The fowler replied, "I have no doubt, my lord, that what that lady, so faithful to her husband, said to thee about me, was said with full knowledge of the facts. I have, O Brahmana, explained to thee all this as a matter of favour. And now, good sir, listen to me. I shall explain what is good for thee. O good Brahmana, of irreproachable character, thou hast wronged thy father and thy mother, for thou hast left home without their permission, for the purpose of learning the _Vedas_. Thou hast not acted properly in this matter, for thy ascetic and aged parents have become entirely blind from grief at thy loss. Do thou return home to console them. May this virtue never forsake thee. Thou art high-minded, of ascetic merit, and always devoted to thy religion but all these have become useless to thee. Do thou without delay return to console thy parents. Do have some regard for my words and not act otherwise; I tell thee what is good for thee, O Brahmana _Rishi_. Do thou return home this very day." The Brahmana replied, "This that thou hast said, is undoubtedly true; mayst thou, O pious man, attain prosperity; I am much pleased with thee." The fowler said, "O Brahmana, as thou practisest with assiduousness those divine, ancient, and eternal virtues which are so difficult of attainment even by pure-minded persons, thou appearest (to me) like a divine being. Return to the side of thy father and mother and be quick and diligent in honouring thy parents; for, I do not know if there is any virtue higher than this." The Brahmana replied, "By a piece of singular good luck have I arrived here, and by a piece of similar good luck have I thus been associated with thee. It is very difficult to find out, in our midst, a person who can so well expound the mysteries of religion; there is scarcely one man among thousands, who is well versed in the science of religion. I am very glad, O great man, to have secured thy friendship; mayst thou be prosperous. I was on the point of falling into hell, but was extricated by thee. It was destined to be so, for thou didst (unexpectedly) come in my way. And, O great man, as the fallen King Yayati was saved by his virtuous grandsons (daughter's sons), so have I know been saved by thee. According to thy advice, I shall honour my father and my mother; for a man with an impure heart can never expound the mysteries of sin and righteousness. As it is very difficult for a person born in the Sudra class to learn the mysteries of the eternal religion, I do not consider thee to be a Sudra. There must surely be some mystery in connection with this matter. Thou must have attained the Sudra's estate by reason of the fruition of thine own past _karma_. O magnanimous man, I long to know the truth about this matter. Do thou tell it to me with attention and according to thy own inclination." "'The fowler replied, "O good Brahmana, Brahmanas are worthy of all respect from me. Listen, O sinless one, to this story of a previous existence of mine. O son of an excellent Brahmana, I was formerly a Brahmana, well-read in the _Vedas_, and an accomplished student of the _Vedangas_. Through my own fault I have been degraded to my present state. A certain king, accomplished in the science of _dhanurveda_ (science of archery), was my friend; and from his companionship, O Brahmana, I, too became skilled in archery; and one day the king, in company with his ministers and followed by his best warriors, went out on a hunting expedition. He killed a large number of deer near a hermitage. I, too, O good Brahmana, discharged a terrible arrow. And a _rishi_ was wounded by that arrow with its head bent out. He fell down upon the ground, and screaming loudly said, 'I have harmed no one, what sinful man has done this?' And, my lord, taking him for a deer, I went up to him and found that he was pierced through the body by my arrow. On account of my wicked deed I was sorely grieved (in mind). And then I said to that _rishi_ of severe ascetic merit, who was loudly crying, lying upon the ground, 'I have done this unwittingly, O _rishi_.' And also this I said to the _muni_: 'Do thou think it proper to pardon all this transgression.' But, O Brahmana, the _rishi_, lashing himself into a fury, said to me, 'Thou shalt be born as a cruel fowler in the Sudra class.'"'" SECTION CCXV "'The fowler continued, "Thus cursed by that _rishi_, I sought to propitiate him with these words: 'Pardon me, O _muni_, I have done this wicked deed unwittingly. It behooves thee to pardon all that. Do thou, worshipful sir, soothe yourself.' The _rishi_ replied, 'The curse that I have pronounced can never be falsified, this is certain. But from kindness towards thee, I shall do thee a favour. Though born in the Sudra class thou shalt remain a pious man and thou shalt undoubtedly honour thy parents; and by honouring them thou shalt attain great spiritual perfection; thou shalt also remember the events of thy past life and shalt go to heaven; and on the expiation of this curse, thou shalt again become a Brahmana.' O best of men, thus, of old was I cursed by that _rishi_ of severe power, and thus was he propitiated by me. Then, O good Brahmana, I extricated the arrow from his body, and took him into the hermitage, but he was not deprived of his life (recovered). O good Brahmana, I have thus described to thee what happened to me of old, and also how I can go to heaven hereafter." The Brahmana said, "O thou of great intelligence, all men are thus subject to happiness or misery, thou shouldst not therefore grieve for that. In obedience to the customs of thy (present) race, thou hast pursued these wicked ways, but thou art always devoted to virtue and versed in the ways and mysteries of the world. And, O learned man, these being the duties of thy profession, the stain of evil _karma_ will not attach to thee. And after dwelling here for some little time, thou shalt again become a Brahmana; and even now, I consider thee to be a Brahmana, there is no doubt about this. For the Brahmana who is vain and haughty, who is addicted to vices and wedded to evil and degrading practices, is like a Sudra. On the other hand, I consider a Sudra who is always adorned with these virtues,--righteousness, self-restraint, and truthfulness,--as a Brahmana. A man becomes a Brahmana by his character; by his own evil _karma_ a man attains an evil and terrible doom. O good man, I believe that sin in thee has now died out. Thou must not grieve for this, for men, like thee who art so virtuous and learned in the ways and mysteries of the world, can have no cause for grief." "'The fowler replied, "The bodily afflictions should be cured with medicines, and the mental ones with spiritual wisdom. This is the power of knowledge. Knowing this, the wise should not behave like boys. Men of low intelligence are overpowered with grief at the occurrence of something which is not agreeable to them, or non-occurrence of something which is good or much desired. Indeed, all creatures are subject to this characteristic (of grief or happiness). It is not merely a single creature or class that is subject to misery. Cognisant of this evil, people quickly mend their ways, and if they perceive it at the very outset they succeed in curing it altogether. Whoever grieves for it, only makes himself uneasy. Those wise men whose knowledge has made them happy and contented, and who are indifferent to happiness and misery alike, are really happy. The wise are always contented and the foolish always discontented. There is no end to discontentment, and contentment is the highest happiness. People who have reached the perfect way, do not grieve, they are always conscious of the final destiny of all creatures. One must not give way to discontent[17] for it is like a virulent poison. It kills persons of undeveloped intelligence, just as a child is killed by an enraged snake. That man has no manliness whose energies have left him and who is overpowered with perplexity when an occasion for the exercise of vigour presents itself. Our actions are surely followed by their consequences. Whoever merely gives himself up to passive indifference (to worldly affairs) accomplishes no good. Instead of murmuring one must try to find out the way by which he can secure exemption from (spiritual) misery; and the means of salvation found, he must then free himself from sensuality. The man who has attained a high state of spiritual knowledge is always conscious of the great deficiency (instability) of all matter. Such a person keeping in view the final doom (of all), never grieves. I too, O learned man, do not grieve; I stay here (in this life) biding my time. For this reason, O best of men, I am not perplexed (with doubts)". The Brahmana said, "Thou art wise and high in spiritual knowledge and vast is thy intelligence. Thou who art versed in holy writ, art content with thy spiritual wisdom. I have no cause to find fault with thee. Adieu, O best of pious men, mayst thou be prosperous, and may righteousness shield thee, and mayst thou be assiduous in the practice of virtue."' [17] _Vishada_ is the original. It means discontent, but here it means more a mixture of discontent, perplexity and confusion than mere discontent. "Markandeya continued, 'The fowler said to him, "Be it so." And the good Brahmana walked round him[18] and then departed. And the Brahmana returning home was duly assiduous in his attention to his old parents. I have thus, O pious Yudhishthira, narrated in detail to thee this history full of moral instruction, which thou, my good son, didst ask me to recite,--the virtue of women's devotion to their husbands and that of filial piety.' Yudhishthira replied, 'O most pious Brahmana and best of _munis_, thou hast related to me this good and wonderful moral story; and listening to thee, O learned man, my time has glided away like a moment; but, O adorable sir, I am not as yet satiated with hearing this moral[19] discourse.'" [18] A form of Hindu etiquette at parting. [19] It is so very difficult to translate the word _Karma_,--religion and morals were invariably associated with each other in ancient Hindu mind. SECTION CCXVI Vaisampayana continued, "The virtuous king Yudhishthira, having listened to this excellent religious discourse, again addressed himself to the _rishi_ Markandeya saying, 'Why did the fire-god hide himself in water in olden times, and why is it that Angiras of great splendour officiating as fire-god, used to convey[20] oblations during his dissolution. There is but one fire, but according to the nature of its action, it is seen to divide itself into many. O worshipful sir, I long to be enlightened on all these points,--How the Kumara[21] was born, how he came to be known as the son of Agni (the fire-god) and how he was begotten by Rudra or Ganga and Krittika. O noble scion of Bhrigu's race, I desire to learn all this accurately as it happened. O great _muni_, I am thrilled with great curiosity.' Markandeya replied, 'In this connection this old story is cited by the learned, as to how the carrier of oblations (the fire-god) in a fit of rage, sought the waters of the sea in order to perform a penance, and how the adorable Angiras transforming himself into the fire-god,[22] destroyed darkness and distressed the world with his scorching rays. In olden times, O long-armed hero, the great Angiras performed a wonderful penance in his hermitage; he even excelled the fire-god, the carrier of oblations, in splendour and in that state he illumined the whole universe. At that time the fire-god was also performing a penance and was greatly distressed by his (Angirasa's) effulgence. He was greatly depressed, but did not know what to do. Then that adorable god thought within himself, "Brahma has created another fire-god for this universe. As I have been practising austerities, my services as the presiding deity of fire have been dispensed with;" and then he considered how he could re-establish himself as the _god_ of fire. He beheld the great _muni_ giving heat to the whole universe like fire, and approached him slowly with fear. But Angiras said to him, "Do thou quickly re-establish yourself as the fire animating the universe, thou art well-known in the three stable worlds and thou wast first created by Brahma to dispel darkness. Do thou, O destroyer of darkness, quickly occupy thine own proper place." Agni replied, "My reputation has been injured now in this world. And thou art become the fire-god, and people will know thee, and not me, as fire. I have relinquished my god-hood of fire, do thou become the primeval fire and I shall officiate as the second or Prajapatyaka fire." Angiras replied, "Do thou become the fire-god and the destroyer of darkness and do thou attend to thy sacred duty of clearing people's way to heaven, and do thou, O lord, make me speedily thy first child."' Markandeya continued, 'Hearing these words of Angiras, the fire-god did as desired, and, O king, Angiras had a son named Vrihaspati. Knowing him to be the first son of Angiras by Agni, the gods, O Bharata, came and enquired about the mystery. And thus asked by the gods he then enlightened them, and the gods then accepted the explanation of Angiras. In this connection, I shall describe to thee religious sorts of fire of great effulgence which are here variously known in the Brahmanas[23] by their respective uses.'" [20] Agni or fire was supposed to convey the oblations offered by men to the gods. [21] _Kumara_ means a boy, hence a prince. Here Kartika the war-god is meant. [22] By carrying their oblations to the gods. [23] Portions of the Vedas. SECTION CCXVII "Markandeya continued, 'O ornament of Kuru's race, he (Angiras) who was the third son of Brahma had a wife of the name of Subha. Do thou hear of the children he had by her. His son Vrihaspati, O king, was very famous, large-hearted and of great bodily vigour. His genius and learning were profound, and he had a great reputation as a counsellor. Bhanumati was his first-born daughter. She was the most beautiful of all his children. Angiras's second daughter was called Raga.[24] She was so named because she was the object of all creature's love. Siniwali was the third daughter of Angiras. Her body was of such slender make that she was visible at one time and invisible at another; and for this reason she was likened to _Rudra's_ daughter. Archismati was his fourth daughter, she was so named from her great refulgence. And his fifth daughter was called _Havishmati_, so named from her accepting _havis_ or oblations. The sixth daughter of Angiras was called Mahismati the pious. O keen-witted being, the seventh daughter of Angiras is known by the name of Mahamati, who is always present at sacrifices of great splendour, and that worshipful daughter of Angiras, whom they call unrivalled and without portion, and about whom people utter the words _kuhu kuhu_ (wonder), is known by the name of Kuhu.'" [24] _Raga_ means love. SECTION CCXVIII "Markandeya continued, 'Vrihaspati had a wife (called Tara) belonging to the lunar world. By her, he had six sons partaking of the energy of fire, and one daughter. The fire in whose honour oblations of clarified butter are offered at the Paurnamasya and other sacrifices, was a son of Vrihaspati called Sanju; he was of great ascetic merit. At the _Chaturmasya_ (four-monthly) and _Aswamedha_ (horse) sacrifices, animals are offered first in his honour, and this powerful fire is indicated by numerous flames. Sanju's wife was called Satya, she was of matchless beauty and she sprang from Dharma (righteousness) for the sake of truth. The blazing fire was his son, and he had three daughters of great religious merit. The fire which is honoured with the first oblations at sacrifices is his first son called Bharadwaja. The second son of Sanju is called Bharata in whose honour oblations of clarified butter are offered with the sacrificial ladle (called Sruk) at all the full moon (_Paurnamasaya_) sacrifices. Beside these three sons of whom Bharata is the senior, he had a son named Bharata and a daughter called Bharati. The Bharata fire is the son of _Prajapati_ Bharata _Agni_ (fire). And, O ornament of Bharata's race, because he is greatly honoured, he is also called the great. Vira is Bharadwaja's wife; she gave birth to Vira. It is said by the Brahmanas that he is worshipped like _Soma_ (with the same hymns) with offerings of clarified butter. He is joined with Soma in the secondary oblation of clarified butter and is also called Rathaprabhu, Rathadhwana and Kumbhareta. He begot a son named Siddhi by his wife Sarayu, and enveloped the sun with his splendour and from being the presiding genius of the fire sacrifice he is ever mentioned in the hymns in praise of fire. And the fire _Nischyavana_ praises the earth only; he never suffers in reputation, splendour and prosperity. The sinless fire Satya blazing with pure flame is his son. He is free from all taint and is not defiled by sin, and is the regulator of time. That fire has another name Nishkriti, because he accomplished the _Nishkriti_ (relief) of all blatant creatures here. When properly worshipped he vouchsafes good fortune. His son is called Swana, who is the generator of all diseases; he inflicts severe sufferings on people for which they cry aloud, and moves in the intelligence of the whole universe. And the other fire (Vrihaspati's third son) is called Viswajit by men of spiritual wisdom. The fire, which is known as the internal heat by which the food of all creatures is digested, is the fourth son of Vrihaspati known through all the worlds, O Bharata, by the name of Viswabhuk. He is self-restrained, of great religious merit, and is a _Brahmacharin_ and he is worshipped by Brahmanas at the Paka-sacrifices. The sacred river Gomati was his wife and by her all religious-minded men perform their rites. And that terrible water-drinking sea fire called Vadava is the fifth son of Vrihaspati. This Brahmic fire has a tendency to move upwards and hence it is called _Urdhvabhag_, and is seated in the vital air called _Prana_. The sixth son is called the great Swishtakrit; for by him oblations became _swishta_ (_su_, excellently, and _ishta_, offered) and the _udagdhara_ oblation is always made in his honour. And when all creatures are claimed, the fire called Manyauti becomes filled with fury. This inexorably terrible and highly irascible fire is the daughter of Vrihaspati, and is known as _Swaha_ and is present in all matter. (By the respective influence of the three qualities of _sattwa, rajas_ and _tamas_, Swaha had three sons). By reason of the first she had a son who was equaled by none in heaven in personal beauty, and from this fact he was surnamed by the gods as the _Kama_-fire.[25] (By reason of the second) she had a son called the _Amogha_ or invincible fire, the destroyer of his enemies in battle. Assured of success he curbs his anger and is armed with a bow and seated on a chariot and adorned with wreaths of flowers. (From the action of the third quality) she had a son, the great _Uktha_ (the means of salvation) praised by (akin to) three Ukthas.[26] He is the originator of the great word[27] and is therefore known as the Samaswasa or the means of rest (salvation).'" [25] Kama is the name of the god of love, Indian Cupid. [26] The body, the exciting Cause of our actions is an _uktha_, the soul of the vivifier of the body is the second _uktha_, and the Supreme Spirit, the inciter of the soul is the third. [27] The word of God. SECTION CCXIX "Markandeya continued, 'He (_Uktha_) performed a severe penance lasting for many years, with the view of having a pious son equal unto _Brahma_ in reputation. And when the invocation was made with the _vyahriti_ hymns and with the aid of the five sacred fires, _Kasyapa, Vasistha, Prana_, the son of _Prana, Chyavana_, the son of _Angiras_, and _Suvarchaka_--there arose a very bright energy (force) full of the animating (creative) principle, and of five different colours. Its head was of the colour of the blazing fire, its arms were bright like the sun and its skin and eyes were golden-coloured and its feet, O Bharata, were black. Its five colours were given to it by those five men by reason of their great penance. This celestial being is therefore described as appertaining to five men, and he is the progenitor of five tribes. After having performed a penance for ten thousand years, that being of great ascetic merit produced the terrible fire appertaining to the _Pitris_ (manes) in order to begin the work of creation, and from his head and mouth respectively he created Vrihat and Rathantara (day and night) who quickly steal away (life, &c.). He also created Siva from his navel, Indra from his might and wind and fire from his soul, and from his two arms sprang the hymns _Udatta_ and _Anudatta_. He also produced the mind, and the five senses, and other creatures. Having created these, he produced the five sons of the _Pitris_. Of these _Pranidhi_ was the son of _Vrihadratha_. Vrihadratha was the son of Kasyapa. Bhanu was the godson of Chyavana, Saurabha, the son of Suvarchaka, and Anudatta, the son of Prana. These twenty-five beings are reputed (to have been created by him). Tapa also created fifteen other gods who obstruct sacrifices[28]. They are Subhima, Bhima, Atibhima, Bhimavala, Avala, Sumitra, Mitravana, Mitasina, Mitravardhana and Mitradharaman,[29] and Surapravira, Vira, Suveka, Suravarchas and Surahantri. These gods are divided into three classes of five each. Located here in this world, they destroy the sacrifices of the gods in heaven; they frustrate their objects and spoil their oblations of clarified butter. They do this only to spite the sacred fires carrying oblations to the gods. If the officiating priests are careful, they place the oblations in their honour outside of the sacrificial altar. To that particular place where the sacred fire may be placed, they cannot go. They carry the oblation of their votaries by means of wings. When appeased by hymns, they do not frustrate the sacrificial rites. Vrihaduktha, another son of Tapa, belongs to the Earth. He is worshipped here in this world by pious men performing _Agnihotra_ sacrifices. Of the son of Tapa who is known as Rathantara, it is said by officiating priests that the sacrificial oblation offered in his honour is offered to Mitravinda. The celebrated Tapa was thus very happy with his sons.'" [28] In Hindu Mythology there are no gods who destroy sacrifices. It is only the Asuras who do so. The Burdwan translator renders this passage,--"fifteen other gods belonging to western nations or _Asuras_." It is noticeable that the beings that were denounced as _Asuras_ by the Hindus were worshipped as Gods (_Asuras_) by the followers of Zarathustra. [29] In connection with the names of these Mitra-gods, it is to be remembered that Mitra was the name of the principal god of the ancient Persians. SECTION CCXX "Markandeya continued, 'The fire called Bharata was bound by severe rules of asceticism. Pushtimati is another name of his fire; for when he is satisfied he vouchsafes _pushti_ (development) to all creatures, and for this reason he is called _Bharata_ (or the Cherisher). And that other fire, by name Siva, is devoted to the worship of Sakti (the forces of the presiding deity of the forces of Nature), and because he always relieves the sufferings of all creatures afflicted with misery, he is called Siva (the giver of good). And on the acquisition of great ascetic wealth by _Tapa_, an intelligent son named Puranda was born to inherit the same. Another son named Ushma was also born. This fire is observed in the vapour of all matter. A third son Manu was born. He officiated as Prajapati. The Brahmanas who are learned in the Vedas, then speak of the exploits of the fire Sambhu. And after that the bright Avasathya fire of great refulgence is spoken of by the Brahmanas. Tapa thus created the five Urjaskara fires, all bright as gold. These all share the _Soma_ drink in sacrifices. The great sun-god when fatigued (after his day's labours) is known as the Prasanta fire. He created the terrible _Asuras_ and various other creatures of the earth. Angiras, too created the _Prajapati_ Bhanu, the son of Tapa. He is also called Vrihadbhanu (the great Bhanu) by Brahmanas learned in the _Vedas_. Bhanu married Supraja, and Brihadbhanu the daughter of Surya (the sun-god). They gave birth to six sons; do thou hear of their progeny. The fire who gives strength to the weak is called Valada (or the giver of strength). He is the first son of Bhanu, and that other fire who looks terrible when all the elements are in a tranquil state is called the Manjuman fire; he is the second son of Bhanu. And the fire in whose honour oblations of clarified butter are enjoined to be made here at the _Darsa_ and _Paurnamasya_ sacrifices and who is known as Vishnu in this world, is (the third son of Bhanu) called Angiras, or Dhritiman. And the fire to whom with Indra, the _Agrayana_ oblation is enjoined to be made is called the Agrayana fire. He is the (fourth) son of Bhanu. The fifth son of Bhanu is Agraha who is the source of the oblations which are daily made for the performance of the _Chaturmasya_ (four-monthly) rites. And Stuva is the sixth son of Bhanu. Nisa was the name of another wife of that Manu who is known by the name of Bhanu. She gave birth to one daughter, the two Agnishtomas, and also five other fire-gods. The resplendent fire-god who is honoured with the first oblations in company with the presiding deity of the clouds is called Vaiswanara. And that other fire who is called the lord of all the worlds is Viswapati, the second son of Manu. And the daughter of Manu is called Swistakrit, because by oblations unto her one acquires great merit. Though she was the daughter of Hiranyakasipu, she yet became his wife for her evil deeds. She is, however, one of the Prajapatis. And that other fire which has its seats in the vital airs of all creatures and animates their bodies, is called Sannihita. It is the cause of our perceptions of sound and form. That divine spirit whose course is marked with black and white stains, who is the supporter of fire, and who, though free from sin, is the accomplisher of desired _karma_, whom the wise regard as a great _Rishi_, is the fire Kapila, the propounder of the _Yoga_ system called Sankhya. The fire through whom the elementary spirits always receive the offerings called _Agra_ made by other creatures at the performance of all the peculiar rites in this world is called Agrani. And these other bright fires famous in the world, were created for the rectification of the _Agnihotra_ rites when marred by any defects. If the fires interlap each other by the action of the wind, then the rectification must be made with the _Ashtakapala_ rites in honour of the fire Suchi. And if the southern fire comes in contact with the two other fires, then rectification must be made by the performance of the _Ashtakapala_ rites in honour of the fire Viti. If the fires in their place called Nivesa come in contact with the fire called Devagni, then the _Ashtakapala_ rites must be performed in honour of the fire Suchi for rectification. And if the perpetual fire is touched by a woman in her monthly course, then for rectification the _Ashtakapala_ rites must be performed in honour of the fire called Dasyuman. If at the time of the performance of this _Agnihotra_ rites the death of any creature is spoken of, or if animals die, then rectification must be made with the performance of the _Ashtakapala_ rites in honour of the Suraman fire. The Brahmana, who while suffering from a disease is unable to offer oblations to the sacred fire for three nights, must make amends for the same by performing the _Ashtakapala_ rites in honour of the northern fire. He who has performed the _Darsa_ and the _Paurnamasya_ rites must make the rectification with the performance of the _Ashtakapala_ rites in honour of the Patikrit fire. If the fire of a lying-in room comes in contact with the perpetual sacred fire, then rectification must be made with the performance of _Ashtakapala_ rites in honour of the Agniman fire.'" SECTION CCXXI "Markandeya continued, 'Mudita, the favourite wife of the fire Swaha, used to live in water. And Swaha who was the regent of the earth and sky begot in that wife of his a highly sacred fire called Advanta. There is a tradition amongst learned Brahmanas that this fire is the ruler and inner soul of all creatures. He is worshipful, resplendent and the lord of all the great _Bhutas_ here. And that fire, under the name of Grihapati, is ever worshipped at all sacrifices and conveys all the oblations that are made in this world. That great son of Swaha--the great Adbhuta fire is the soul of the waters and the prince and regent of the sky and the lord of everything great. His (son), the Bharata fire, consumes the dead bodies of all creatures. His first Kratu is known as Niyata at the performance of the _Agnishtoma_ sacrifice. That powerful prime fire (_Swaha_) is always missed by the gods, because when he sees Niyata approaching him he hides himself in the sea from fear of contamination. Searching for him in every direction, the gods could not (once) find him out and on beholding Atharvan the fire said to him, "O valiant being, do thou carry the oblations for the gods! I am disabled from want of strength. Attaining the state of the red-eyed fire, do thou condescend to do me this favour!" Having thus advised Atharvan, the fire went away to some other place. But his place of concealment was divulged by the finny tribe. Upon them the fire pronounced this curse in anger, "You shall be the food of all creatures in various ways." And then that carrier of oblations spoke unto _Atharvan_ (as before). Though entreated by the gods, he did not agree to continue carrying their oblations. He then became insensible and instantly gave up the ghost. And leaving his material body, he entered into the bowels of the earth. Coming into contact with the earth, he created the different metals. Force and scent arose from his pus; the _Deodar_ pine from his bones; glass from his phlegm; the _Marakata_ jewel from his bile; and the black iron from his liver. And all the world has been embellished with these three substances (wood, stone and iron). The clouds were made from his nails, and corals from his veins. And, O king, various other metals were produced from his body. Thus leaving his material body, he remained absorbed in (spiritual) meditation. He was roused by the penance of Bhrigu and Angiras. The powerful fire thus gratified with penance, blazed forth intensely. But on beholding the _Rishi_ (Atharvan), he again sought his watery refuge. At this extinction of the fire, the whole world was frightened, and sought the protection of Atharvan, and the gods and others began to worship him. Atharvan rummaged the whole sea in the presence of all those beings eager with expectation, and finding out the fire, himself began the work of creation. Thus in olden times the fire was destroyed and called back to life by the adorable Atharvan. But now he invariably carries the oblations of all creatures. Living in the sea and travelling about various countries, he produced the various fires mentioned in the _Vedas_. "'The river Indus, the five rivers (of the Punjab), the Sone, the Devika, the Saraswati, the Ganga, the Satakumbha, the Sarayu, the Gandaki, the Charmanwati, the Mahi, the Medha, the Medhatithi, the three rivers Tamravati, the Vetravati, and the Kausiki; the Tamasa, the Narmada, the Godavari, the Vena, the Upavena, the Bhima, the Vadawa, the Bharati, the Suprayoga, the Kaveri, the Murmura, the Tungavenna, the Krishnavenna and the Kapila, these rivers, O Bharata, are said to be the mothers of the fires! The fire called Adbhuta had a wife of the name of Priya, and Vibhu was the eldest of his sons by her. There are as many different kinds of _Soma sacrifices_ as the number of fires mentioned before. All this race of fires, first-born of the spirit of Brahma, sprang also from the race of Atri. Atri in his own mind conceived these sons, desirous of extending the creation. By this act, the fires came out of his own Brahmic frame. I have thus narrated to thee the history of the origin of these fires. They are great, resplendent, and unrivalled in power, and they are the destroyers of darkness. Know that the powers of those fires are the same as those of the Adbhuta fire as related in the Vedas. For all these fires are one and same. This adorable being, the first born fire, must be considered as one. For like the _Jyotishtoma_ sacrifice he came out of Angiras body in various forms. I have thus described to thee the history of the great race of Agni (fires) who when duly worshipped with the various hymns, carry the oblations of all creatures to the gods.'" SECTION CCXXII "Markandeya continued, 'O sinless scion of Kuru's race, I have described to thee the various branches of the race of Agni. Listen now to the story of the birth of the intelligent Kartikeya. I shall tell thee of that wonderful and famous and highly energetic son of the Adbhuta fire begotten of the wives of the _Brahmarshis_. In ancient times the _gods_ and _Asuras_ were very active in destroying one another. And the terrible _Asuras_ always succeeded in defeating the gods. And Purandara (Indra) beholding the great slaughter of his armies by them and anxious to find out a leader for the celestial host, thought within himself, "I must find out a mighty person who observing the ranks of the celestial army shattered by the _Danavas_ will be able to reorganize it with vigour." He then repaired to the Manasa mountains and was there deeply absorbed in thought of nature, when he heard the heart-rending cries of a woman to the effect, "May some one come quick and rescue me, and either indicate a husband for me, or be my husband himself." Purandara said to her, "Do not be afraid, lady!" And having said these words, he saw Kesin (an _Asura_) adorned with a crown and mace in hand standing even like a hill of metals at a distance and holding that lady by the hand. Vasava addressed then that _Asura_ saying, "Why art thou bent on behaving insolently to this lady? Know that I am the god who wields the thunderbolt. Refrain thou from doing any violence to this lady." To him Kesin replied, "Do thou, O Sakra, leave her alone. I desire to possess her. Thinkest thou, O slayer of Paka, that thou shalt be able to return home with thy life?" With these words Kesin hurled his mace for slaying Indra. Vasava cut it up in its course with his thunderbolt. Then Kesin, furious with rage, hurled a huge mass of rock at him. Beholding that, he of a hundred sacrifices rent it asunder with his thunderbolt, and it fell down upon the ground. And Kesin himself was wounded by that falling mass of rock. Thus sorely afflicted, he fled leaving the lady behind. And when the _Asura_ was gone, Indra said to that lady, "Who and whose wife art thou, O lady with a beautiful face, and what has brought thee here?"'" SECTION CCXXIII "'The lady replied, "I am a daughter of Prajapati (the lord of all creatures, Brahma) and my name is Devasena. My sister Daityasena has ere this been ravished by Kesin. We two sisters with our maids habitually used to come to these Manasa mountains for pleasures with the permission of Prajapati. And the great _Asura_ Kesin used daily to pay his court to us. Daityasena, O conqueror of Paka, listened to him, but I did not. Daityasena was, therefore, taken away by him, but, O illustrious one, thou hast rescued me with thy might. And now, O lord of the celestials, I desire that thou shouldst select an invincible husband for me." To this Indra replied, "Thou art a cousin of mine, thy mother being a sister of my mother Dakshayani, and now I desire to hear thee relate thine own prowess." The lady replied, "O hero with long arms, I am _Avala_[30] (weak) but my husband must be powerful. And by the potency of my father's boon, he will be respected by _gods_ and _Asuras_ alike." Indra said, "O blameless creature, I wish to hear from thee, what sort of power thou wishest thy husband to possess." The lady replied, "That manly and famous and powerful being devoted to Brahma, who is able to conquer all the celestials, _Asuras, Yakshas, Kinnaras, Uragas, Rakshasas_, and the evil-minded _Daityas_ and to subdue all the worlds with thee, shall be my husband."' [30] _Avala_ is a common name of women. It means one who has no vala or strength or power. The word is also used as an adjective. "Markandeya continued, 'On hearing her speech, Indra was grieved and deeply thought within himself, "There is no husband for this lady, answering to her own description." And that god adorned with sun-like effulgence, then perceived the Sun rising on the Udaya hill,[31] and the great Soma (Moon) gliding into the Sun. It being the time of the new Moon, he of a hundred sacrifices, at the _Raudra_[32] moment, observed the gods and _Asuras_ fighting on the Sunrise hill. And he saw that the morning twilight was tinged with red clouds. And he also saw that the abode of Varuna had become blood-red. And he also observed Agni conveying oblations offered with various hymns by Bhrigu, Angiras, and others and entering the disc of the Sun. And he further saw the twenty four _Parvas_ adorning the Sun, and the terrible Soma also present in the Sun under such surroundings. And observing this union of the Sun and the Moon and that fearful conjunction of theirs, Sakra thought within himself, "This terrific conjunction of the Sun and the Moon forebodeth a fearful battle on the morrow. And the river Sindhu (Indus) too is flowing with a current of fresh blood and the jackals with fiery laces are crying to the Sun. This great conjunction is fearful and full of energy. This union of the Moon (Soma) with the Sun and Agni is very wonderful. And if Soma giveth birth to a son now, that son may become the husband of this lady. And Agni also hath similar surroundings now, and he too is a god. If the two begetteth a son, that son may become the husband of this lady." With these thoughts that illustrious celestial repaired to the regions of Brahma, taking Devasena[33] with him. And saluting the Grandsire he said unto him, "Do thou fix a renowned warrior as husband of this lady." Brahma replied, "O slayer of _Asuras_, it shall be as thou hast intended. The issue of that union will be mighty and powerful accordingly. That powerful being will be the husband of this lady and the joint leader of thy forces with thee." Thus addressed, the lord of the celestials and the lady bowed unto him and then repaired to the place where those great Brahmanas, the powerful celestial _Rishis_, Vasistha and others, lived. And with Indra at their head, the other gods also, desirous of drinking the Soma beverage, repaired to the sacrifices of those _Rishis_ to receive their respective shares of the offerings. Having duly performed the ceremonies with the bright blazing fire, those great-minded persons offered oblations to the celestials. And the _Adbhuta_ fire, that carrier of oblations, was invited with _mantras_. And coming out of the solar disc, that lordly fire duly repaired thither, restraining speech. And, O chief of Bharata's race, that fire entering the sacrificial fire that had been ignited and into which various offerings were made by the _Rishis_ with recitations of hymns, took them with him and made them over to the dwellers of heaven. And while returning from that place, he observed the wives of those high-souled _Rishis_ sleeping at their ease on their beds. And those ladies had a complexion beautiful like that of an altar of gold, spotless like moon-beams, resembling fiery flames and looking like blazing stars. And seeing those wives of the illustrious Brahmanas with eager eyes, his mind became agitated and he was smitten with their charms. Restraining his heart he considered it improper for him to be thus agitated. And he said unto himself, "The wives of these great Brahmanas are chaste and faithful and beyond the reach of other people's desires. I am filled with desire to possess them. I cannot lawfully cast my eyes upon them, nor ever touch them when they are not filled with desire. I shall, therefore, gratify myself daily with only looking at them by becoming their _Garhapatya_ (house-hold) fire."' [31] According to the Hindus, the sun rises from and sets behind two hills respectively. He rises from the _Udaya_ or Sun-rise hill and sets behind the _Asta_ or sun-set hill. [32] _Raudra_--belonging to Rudra, the god of fury, violence, war, &c. [33] _Devasena_ literally means the celestial army. This fable seems to be an allegorical representation of the attempts made by Indra to procure a leader for the celestial host. "Markandeya continued, 'The _Adbhuta_ fire, thus transforming himself into a house-hold one, was highly gratified with seeing those gold-complexioned ladies and touching them with his flames. And influenced by their charms he dwelt there for a long time, giving them his heart and filled with an intense love for them. And baffled in all his efforts to win the hearts of those Brahmana ladies, and his own heart tortured by love, he repaired to a forest with the certain object of destroying himself. A little while before, Swaha, the daughter of Daksha, had bestowed her love on him. The excellent lady had been endeavouring for a long time to detect his weak moments; but that blameless lady did not succeed in finding out any weakness in the calm and collected fire-god. But now that the god had betaken himself to a forest, actually tortured by the pangs of love, she thought, "As I too am distressed with love, I shall assume the guise of the wives of the seven _Rishis_, and in that disguise I shall seek the fire-god so smitten with their charms. This done, he will be gratified and my desire too will be satisfied."'" SECTION CCXXIV "Markandeya continued, 'O lord of men, the beautiful Siva endowed with great virtues and an unspotted character was the wife of Angiras (one of the seven _Rishis_). That excellent lady (Swaha) at first assuming the disguise of Siva, sought the presence of Agni unto whom she said, "O Agni, I am tortured with love for thee. Do thou think it fit to woo me. And if thou dost not accede to my request, know that I shall commit self-destruction. I am Siva the wife of Angiras. I have come here according to the advice of the wives of the other _Rishis_, who have sent me here after due deliberation." "'Agni replied, "How didst thou know that I was tortured with love and how could the others, the beloved wives of the seven _Rishis_, of whom thou hast spoken, know this?" "'Swaha replied, "Thou art always a favourite with us, but we are afraid of thee. Now having read thy mind by well-known signs, they have sent to thy presence. I have come here to gratify my desire. Be thou quick, O Agni, to encompass the object of thy desire, my sisters-in-law are awaiting me. I must return soon." "Markandeya continued, 'Then Agni, filled with great joy and delight, married Swaha in the guise of Siva, and that lady joyfully cohabiting with him, held the _semen virile_ in her hands. And then she thought within herself that those who would observe her in that disguise in the forest, would cast an unmerited slur upon the conduct of those Brahmana ladies in connection with Agni. Therefore, to prevent this, she should assume the disguise of a bird, and in that state she should more easily get out of the forest.' "Markandeya continued, 'Then assuming the disguise of a winged creature, she went out of the forest and reached the White Mountain begirt with clumps of heath and other plants and trees, and guarded by strange seven-headed serpents with poison in their very looks, and abounding with _Rakshasas_, male and female _Pisachas_, terrible spirits, and various kinds of birds and animals. That excellent lady quickly ascending a peak of those mountains, threw that _semen_ into a golden lake. And then assuming successively the forms of the wives of the high-souled seven _Rishis_, she continued to dally with Agni. But on account of the great ascetic merit of Arundhati and her devotion to her husband (Vasishtha), she was unable to assume her form. And, O chief of Kuru's race, the lady Swaha on the first lunar day threw six times into that lake the _semen_ of Agni. And thrown there, it produced a male child endowed with great power. And from the fact of its being regarded by the _Rishis_ as _cast off_, the child born therefrom came to be called by the name of _Skanda_. And the child had six faces, twelve ears, as many eyes, hands, and feet, one neck, and one stomach. And it first assumed a form on the second lunar day, and it grew to the size of a little child on the third. And the limbs of Guha were developed on the fourth day. And being surrounded by masses of red clouds flashing forth lightning, it shone like the Sun rising in the midst of a mass of red clouds. And seizing the terrific and immense bow which was used by the destroyer of the _Asura_ Tripura for the destruction of the enemies of the gods, that mighty being uttered such a terrible roar that the three worlds with their mobile and immobile divisions became struck with awe. And hearing that sound which seemed like the rumbling of a mass of big clouds, the great _Nagas, Chitra_ and _Airavata_, were shaken with fear. And seeing them unsteady that lad shining with sun-like refulgence held them with both his hands. And with a dart in (another) hand, and with a stout, red-crested, big cock fast secured in another, that long-armed son of Agni began to sport about making a terrible noise. And holding an excellent conch-shell with two of his hands, that mighty being began to blow it to the great terror of even the most powerful creatures. And striking the air with two of his hands, and playing about on the hill-top, the mighty Mahasena of unrivalled prowess, looked as if he were on the point of devouring the three worlds, and shone like the bright Sun-god at the moment of his ascension in the heavens. And that being of wonderful prowess and matchless strength, seated on the top of that hill, looked on with his numerous faces directed towards the different cardinal points, and observing various things, he repeated his loud roars. And on hearing those roars various creatures were prostrate with fear. And frightened and troubled in mind they sought protection. And all those persons of various orders who then sought the protection of that god are known as his powerful Brahmana followers. And rising from his seat, that mighty god allayed the fears of all those people, and then drawing his bow, he discharged his arrows in the direction of the White Mountain. And with those arrows the hill Krauncha, the son of Himavat, was rent asunder. And that is the reason why swans and vultures now migrate to the Sumeru mountains. The Krauncha hill, sorely wounded, fell down uttering fearful groans. And seeing him fallen, the other hills too began to scream. And that mighty being of unrivalled prowess, hearing the groans of the afflicted, was not at all moved, but himself uplifting his mace, yelled forth his war-whoop. And that high-souled being then hurled his mace of great lustre and quickly rent in twain one of the peaks of the White Mountain. And the White Mountain being thus pierced by him was greatly afraid of him and dissociating himself from the earth fled with the other mountains. And the earth was greatly afflicted and bereft of her ornaments on all sides. And in this distress, she went over to _Skanda_ and once more shone with all her might. And the mountains too bowed down to _Skanda_ and came back and stuck into the earth. And all creatures then celebrated the worship of _Skanda_ on the fifth day of the lunar month.'" SECTION CCXXV "Markandeya continued, 'When that powerful, high-souled, and mighty being was born, various kinds of fearful phenomena occurred. And the nature of males and females, of heat and cold, and of such other pairs of contraries, was reversed. And the planets, the cardinal points and the firmaments became radiant with light and the earth began to rumble very much. And the _Rishis_ even, seeking the welfare of the world, while they observed all these terrific prodigies on all sides, began with anxious hearts to restore tranquillity in the universe. And those who used to live in that Chitraratha forest said, "This very miserable condition of ours hath been brought about by Agni cohabiting with the six wives of the seven _Rishis_." Others again who had seen the goddess assume the disguise of a bird said, "This evil hath been brought about by a bird." No one ever imagined that Swaha was the authoress of that mischief. But having heard that the (new born) male child was hers, she went to Skanda and gradually revealed to him the fact that she was his mother. And those seven _Rishis_, when they heard that a son of great power had been born (to them), divorced their six wives with the exception of the adorable Arundhati, because all the dwellers of that forest protested that those six persons had been instrumental in bringing forth the child. Swaha too, O king, said again and again to the seven _Rishis_, saying, "Ye ascetics, this child is mine, your wives are not his mother." "'The great _Muni_ Viswamitra had, after the conclusion of the sacrifices of the seven _Rishis_, followed unseen the god of fire, while the latter was tortured with lust. He, therefore, knew everything as it happened and he was the first to seek the protection of Mahasena. And he offered divine prayers to Mahasena and all the thirteen auspicious rites appertaining to childhood, such as the natal and other ceremonies, were all performed by the great _Muni_ in respect of that child. And for the good of the world he promulgated the virtues of the six-faced Skanda, and performed ceremonies in honour of the cock, the goddess _Sakti_, and the first followers of Skanda. And for this reason he became a great favourite of the celestial youth. That great _Muni_ then informed the seven _Rishis_ of the transformations of Swaha and told them that their wives were perfectly innocent. But though thus informed the seven _Rishis_ abandoned their spouses unconditionally.'" "Markandeya continued, 'The celestials having heard of the prowess of Skanda, all said to Vasava, "O Sakra, do thou kill Skanda without delay for his prowess is unbearable. And if thou dost not exterminate him, he will conquer the three worlds with ourselves, and overpowering thee, will himself become the mighty lord of the celestials." Perplexed in mind, Sakra replied unto them, "This child is endowed with great prowess. He can himself destroy the Creator of the Universe, in battle putting forth his might. I venture not, therefore, to do away with him." To this the gods replied, "Thou hast no manliness in thee, in that thou talkest in this manner. Let the great Mothers of the Universe repair to-day to Skanda. They can master at will any degree of energy. Let them kill this child." "It shall be so."--the mothers replied. And then they went away. But on beholding that he was possessed of great might, they became dispirited, and considering that he was invincible, they sought his protection and said unto him, "Do thou, O mighty being, become our (adopted) son. We are full of affection for thee and desirous of giving thee suck. Lo, the milk oozes from our breasts!" On hearing these words, the mighty Mahasena became desirous of sucking their breasts and he received them with due respect and acceded to their request. And that mightiest of mighty creatures then beheld his father Agni come towards him. And that god, who is the doer of all that is good, was duly honoured by his son, and in company with the Mothers, he stayed there by the side of Mahasena to tend him. And that lady amongst the Mothers who was born of Anger[34] with a spike in hand kept watch over Skanda even like a mother guarding her own offspring, and that irascible red-coloured daughter of the Sea, who lived herself on blood, hugged Mahasena in her breast and nursed him like a mother. And Agni transforming himself into a trader with a goat's mouth and followed by numerous children began to gratify that child of his with toys in that mountain abode of his.'" [34] Anger personified is a deity. SECTION CCXXVI "Markandeya continued, 'The planets with their satellites, the _Rishis_ and the Mothers, Agni and numerous other blazing courtiers and many other dwellers of heaven of terrible mien, waited on Mahasena along with the Mothers. And the illustrious sovereign of the gods, desirous of victory but believing success to be doubtful mounted his elephant Airavata and attended by the other gods advanced towards Skanda. That mighty being followed by all the celestials was armed with his thunderbolt. And with the object of slaying Mahasena, he marched with terrible celestial army of great splendour, sounding their shrill war-cry and furnished with various sorts of standards, with warriors encased in various armour and armed with numerous bows and riding on various animals. When Mahasena beheld the gloriously decked Sakra, attired in his best clothes, advancing with the determination of slaying him, he (too on his part) advanced to meet that chief of the celestials. O Partha, the mighty Vasava, the lord of the celestials, then uttered a loud shout, to encourage his warriors and marching rapidly with the view of killing Agni's son and praised by Tridasas[35] and great _Rishis_, he at length reached the abode of Kartikeya. And then he shouted out with other gods; and Guha too in response to this, uttered a fearful war-cry resembling the roaring of the sea. On hearing that noise, the celestial army behaved like an agitated sea, and was stunned and fixed to the spot. And that son of _Pavaka_ (the Fire-god) beholding the gods come near to him with the object of killing him, was filled with wrath, and gave out rising flame of fire from within his mouth. And these flames destroyed the celestial forces struggling on the ground. Their heads, their bodies, their arms and riding animals were all burnt in that conflagration and they appeared all on a sudden like stars displaced from their proper spheres. Thus afflicted, the god renounced all allegiance to the thunder-bolt, and sought the protection of Pavaka's son; and thus peace was again secured. When he was thus forsaken by the gods, Sakra hurled his thunder-bolt at Skanda. It pierced him on the right side; and, O great king, it passed through the body of that high-souled being. And from being struck with the thunder-bolt, there arose from Skanda's body another being--a youth with a club in hand, and adorned with a celestial amulet. And because he was born on account of the piercing of the thunder-bolt, he was named Visakha. And Indra, when he beheld that another person looking like the fierce destroying Fire-god had come into being was frightened out of his wits and besought the protection of Skanda, with the palms of his hands joined together (as a mark of respect). And that excellent being Skanda, bade him renounce all fear, with his arm. The gods were then transported with joy, and their hands too struck up.'" [35] Another name of gods, so named from their having only three stages of life--viz., infancy, childhood, and youth--and being exempt from the fourth--old age. SECTION CCXXVII "Markandeya continued, 'Now hear of those terrible and curious-looking followers of Skanda. A number of male children came into being when Skanda was struck with the thunder-bolt,--those terrific creatures that steal (spirit away) little children, whether born, or in the womb and a number of female children too of great strength were born to him. Those children adopted Visakha as their father. That adorable and dexterous Bhadrasakha, having a face like that of a goat was at the time (of the battle) surrounded by all his sons and daughters whom he guarded carefully in the presence of the great mothers. And for this reason the inhabitants of this earth call Skanda the father of _Kumaras_ (little children). Those persons who desire to have sons born to them, worship in their places the powerful _Rudra_ in the form of the Fire-god, and _Uma_ in the form of _Swaha_. And by that means they are blessed with sons. The daughters begotten by the Fire-god, _Tapa_, went over to Skanda, who said to them, "What can I do for you?" Those girls replied, "Do us this favour; by thy blessing, may we become the good and respected mothers of all the world!" He replied, "Be it so." And that liberal-minded being repeated again and again, "Ye shall be divided into Siva and Asiva."[36] And the mothers then departed, having first established Skanda's sonship, Kaki, Halima, Malini, Vrinhila, Arya, Palala and Vaimitra, these were the seven mothers of Sisu. They had a powerful, red-eyed, terrific, and very turbulent son named Sisu born by the blessing of Skanda. He was reputed as the eighth hero, born of the mothers of Skanda. But he is also known as the ninth, when that being with the face of a goat, is included. Know that the sixth face of Skanda was like that of a goat. That face, O king, is situated in the middle of the six, and is regarded constantly by the mother. That head by which Bhadrasakha created the divine energy, is reputed to be the best of all his heads. O ruler of men, these virtuous wonderful events happened on the fifth day of the bright half of the lunar month, and on the sixth, a very fierce and terrific battle was fought at that place." [36] i.e., good and evil spirits. SECTION CCXXVIII "Markandeya continued, 'Skanda was adorned with a golden amulet and wreath, and wore a crest and a crown of gold; his eyes were golden-coloured, and he had a set of sharp teeth; he was dressed in a red garment and looked very handsome; he had a comely appearance, and was endowed with all good characteristics and was the favourite of the three worlds. He granted boons (to people who sought them) and was brave, youthful, and adorned with bright ear-rings. Whilst he was reposing himself, the goddess of fortune, looking like a lotus and assuming a personal embodiment, rendered her allegiance to him. When he became thus possessed of good fortune, that famous and delicate-looking creature appeared to all like the moon at its full. And high-minded Brahmanas worshipped that mighty being, and the _Maharshis_ (great _rishis_) then said as follows to Skanda, "O thou born of the golden egg, mayst thou be prosperous and mayst thou become an instrument of good to the universe! O best of the gods, although thou wast born only six nights (days) ago, the whole world has owned allegiance to thee (within this short time), and thou hast also allayed their fears. Therefore do thou become the Indra (lord) of the three worlds and remove their cause of apprehension." Skanda replied, "You gentlemen of great ascetic wealth (tell me) what Indra does with all three worlds and how that sovereign of the celestials protects the hosts of gods unremittingly." The _Rishis_ replied, "Indra is the giver of strength, power, children and happiness to all creatures and when propitiated, that Lord of the celestials bestows on all the objects of their desire. He destroys the wicked and fulfils the desires of the righteous; and that Destroyer of Vala assigns to all creatures their various duties. He officiates for the sun and the moon in places where there is no sun or moon; he even when occasion requires it, acts for (serves the purposes of) fire, air, earth, and water. These are the duties of Indra; his capacities are immense. Thou too art mighty; therefore great hero, do thou become our Indra." "'Sakra said, "O mighty being, do thou make us happy, by becoming our lord. Excellent being, thou art worthy of the honour; therefore shall we anoint thee this very day." "'Skanda replied, "Do thou continue to rule the three worlds with self-possession, and with thy heart bent on conquest. I shall remain thy humble servant. I covet not thy sovereignty." "'Sakra replied, "Thy prowess is unrivalled, O hero, do thou therefore vanquish the enemies of the gods. People have been struck with wonder at thy prowess. More specially as I have been bereft of my prowess, and defeated by thee, now if I were to act as Indra, I should not command the respect of all creatures, and they would be busy in bringing about dissensions between us; and then, my lord, they would become the partisans of one or other of us. And when they formed themselves into two distinct factions, war as before would be the result of that defection. And in that war, thou wouldst undoubtedly defeat me without difficulty and thyself become the lord of all worlds." "'Skanda replied, "Thou, O Sakra, art my sovereign, as also of the three worlds; mayst thou be prosperous! Tell me if I can obey any commands of thine." "'Indra replied, "At thy bidding, O powerful being, I shall continue to act as Indra. And if thou hast said this deliberately and in earnest, then hear me how thou canst gratify thy desire of serving me. Do thou, O mighty being, take the leadership of the celestial forces accordingly." "'Skanda replied, "Do thou anoint me as leader, for the destruction of the Danavas, for the good of the celestials, and for the well-being of cows and Brahmanas."' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus anointed by Indra and all other gods, and honoured by the _Maharshis_, he looked grand at the moment. The golden umbrella[37] held (over his head) looked like a halo of blazing fire. That famous god, the Conqueror of Tripura, himself fastened the celestial wreath of gold, of Viswakarma's manufacture, round his neck. And, O great man and conqueror of thine enemies, that worshipful god with the emblem of the bull, had gone there previously with Parvati. He honoured him with a joyous heart. The Fire-god is called Rudra by Brahmanas, and from this fact Skanda is called the son of Rudra. The White Mountain was formed from discharges of Rudra's _semen virile_ and the sensual indulgences of the Fire-god with the Krittikas took place on that same White Mountain. And as Rudra was seen by all the dwellers of heaven to heap honours on the excellent Guha (Skanda), he was for that reason reputed as the son of Rudra. This child had his being by the action of Rudra entering into the constitution of the Fire-god, and for this reason, Skanda came to be known as the son of Rudra. And, O Bharata, as Rudra, the Fire-god, Swaha, and the six wives (of the seven Rishis) were instrumental to the birth of the great god Skanda, he was for that reason reputed as the son of Rudra.' [37] One of the ensigns of royalty in Hindustan. "'That son of Fire-god was clad in a pair of clean red cloths, and thus he looked grand and resplendent like the Sun peeping forth from behind a mass of red clouds. And the red cock given to him by the Fire-god, formed his ensign; and when perched on the top of his chariot, it looked like the image of the all-destroying fire. And the presiding deity of the power which conduces to the victory of the god, and which is the director of the exertions of all creatures, and constitutes their glory, prop and refuge, advanced before him. And a mysterious charm entered into his constitution, the charm which manifests its powers on the battlefield. Beauty, strength, piety, power, might, truthfulness, rectitude, devotion to Brahmanas, freedom from illusion or perplexity, protection of followers, destruction of foes, and care of all creatures,--these, O lord of men, are the inborn virtues of Skanda. Thus anointed by all the gods, he looked pleased and complacent; and dressed in his best style, he looked beautiful like the moon at its full. The much-esteemed incantation of _Vedic_ hymns, the music of the celestial band, and the songs of gods and _Gandharvas_ then rang on all sides. And surrounded by all the well-dressed _Apsaras_, and many other gay and happy-looking _Pisachas_ and hosts of gods, that anointed (by gods) son of Pavaka disported himself in all his grandeur. To the dwellers of heaven, the anointed Mahasena appeared like the Sun rising after extinction of darkness. And then the celestial forces looking upon him as their leader, surrounded him on all sides in thousands. That adorable being followed by all creatures then assumed their commands, and praised and honoured by them, he encouraged them in return. "'The Performer of a thousand sacrifices then thought of Devasena, whom he has rescued before. And considering that this being (Skanda) was undoubtedly destined to be the husband of this lady by Brahma himself, he had her brought there, dressed her with the best apparel. And the vanquisher of Vala then said to Skanda, "O foremost of gods, this lady was, even before thy birth, destined to be thy bride by that Self-existent Being.[38] Therefore do thou duly accept her lotus-like beautiful right hand with invocation of the (marital) hymns." Thus told, he duly married her. And Vrihaspati learned in hymns performed the necessary prayers and oblations. She who is called Shashthi, Lakshmi, Asa, Sukhaprada, Sinivali, Kuhu, Saivritti, and Aparajita, is known among men as Devasena, the wife of Skanda. When Skanda became united to Devasena in indissoluble bonds of matrimony, then the gods of prosperity in her own personal embodiment began to serve him with diligence. As Skanda attained celebrity on the fifth lunar day, that day is called _Sripanchami_ (or the auspicious fifth day) and as he attained his object on the sixth, that lunar day is considered to be of great moment.'" [38] Brahma. SECTION CCXXIX "Markandeya continued, 'Those six ladies, the wives of the seven _Rishis_ when they learned that good fortune had smiled on Mahasena and that he had been made leader of the celestial forces,[39] repaired to his camp. Those virtuous ladies of high religious merit had been disowned by the _Rishis_. They lost no time in visiting that leader of the celestial forces and then addressed him thus, "We, O son, have been cast out by our god-like husbands, without any cause. Some people spread the rumour that we gave birth to thee. Believing in the truth of this story, they became greatly indignant, and banished us from our sacred places. It behooves thee now to save us from this infamy. We desire to adopt thee as our son, so that, O mighty being, eternal bliss may be secured to us by that favour. Do thou thus repay the obligation thou owest to us." [39] Devasenapati is the original. It may mean either the _pati_ (leader) of the _sena_ (forces) of _devas_ or the _pati_ (husband) of Devasena. "'Skanda replied, "O ladies of faultless character, do you accordingly become my mothers. I am your son and ye shall attain all the objects of your desire." "Markandeya continued, 'Then Sakra having expressed a wish to say something to Skanda, the latter enquired, "What is it?" Being told by Skanda to speak it out, Vasava said, "The lady Abhijit, the younger sister of Rohini, being jealous of her seniority, has repaired to the woods to perform austerities. And I am at a loss to find out a substitute for the fallen star. May good luck attend on thee, do thou consult with _Brahma_ (for the purpose of filling up the room) of this great asterism." Dhanishtha and other asterisms were created by _Brahma_, and Rohini used to serve the purpose of one such; and consequently their number was full. And in accordance with Sakra's advice, Krittika was assigned a place in the heavens, and that star presided over by _Agni_ shines as if with seven heads. Vinata also said to Skanda, "Thou art as a son to me, and entitled to offer me the funeral cakes (at my funeral obsequies). I desire, my son, to live with thee always." "'Skanda replied, "Be it so, all honour to thee! Do thou guide me with a mother's affection, and honoured by thy daughter-in-law, thou shalt always live with me."' "Markandeya continued, 'Then the great mothers spoke as follows to Skanda, "We have been described by the learned as the mothers of all creatures. But we desire to be thy mothers, do thou honour us." "'Skanda replied, "Ye are all as mothers to me, and I am your son. Tell me what I can do to please you." "'The mothers replied, "The ladies (Brahmi, Maheswari, &c.) were appointed as mothers of the world in bygone ages. We desire, O great god, that they be dispossessed of that dignity, and ourselves installed in their place, and that we, instead of them, be worshipped by the world. Do thou now restore to us those of our progeny, of whom we have been deprived, by them on thy account." "'Skanda replied, "Ye shall not recover those that have been once given away, but I can give you other offspring if ye like." "'The mothers replied, "We desire that living with thee and assuming different shapes we be able to eat up the progeny of those mothers and their guardians. Do thou grant us this favour." "'Skanda said, "I can grant you progeny, but this topic on which ye have just now dilated is a very painful one. May ye be prosperous! All honour to you, ladies, do ye vouchsafe to them your protecting care." "'The mothers replied, "We shall protect them, O Skanda, as thou desirest. Mayst thou be prosperous! But, O mighty being, we desire to live with thee always." "'Skanda replied, "So long as children of the human kind do not attain the youthful state in the sixteenth year of their age, ye shall afflict them with your various forms, and I too shall confer on you a fierce inexhaustible spirit. And with that ye shall live happily, worshipped by all."' "Markandeya continued, 'And then a fiery powerful being came out of the body of Skanda for the purpose of devouring the progeny of mortal beings. He fell down upon the ground, senseless and hungry. And bidden by Skanda, that genius of evil assumed a terrific form. Skandapasmara is the name by which it is known among good Brahmanas. Vinata is called the terrific Sakuni _graha_ (spirit of evil). She who is known as _Putana Rakshasi_ by the learned is the _graha_ called Putana; that fierce and terrible looking _Rakshasa_ of a hideous appearance is also called the _pisacha_, Sita Putana. That fierce-looking spirit is the cause of abortion in women. Aditi is also known by the name of Revati; her evil spirit is called Raivata, and that terrible _graha_ also afflicts children. Diti, the mother of the Daityas (_Asuras_), is also called Muhkamandika, and that terrible creature is very fond of the flesh of little children. Those male and female children, O Kaurava, who are said to have been begotten by Skanda, are spirit of evil and they destroy the foetus in the womb. They (the _Kumaras_) are known as the husbands of those very ladies, and children are seized unawares by these cruel spirits. And, O king, _Surabhi_ who is called the mother of bovine kind by the wise is best ridden by the evil spirit Sakuni, who in company with her, devours children on this earth. And Sarama, the mother of dogs, also habitually kills human beings while still in the womb. She who is the mother of all trees has her abode in a _karanja_ tree. She grants boons and has a placid countenance and is always favourably disposed towards all creatures. Those persons who desire to have children, bow down to her, who is seated in a _karanja_ tree. These eighteen evil spirits fond of meat and wine, and others of the same kind, invariably take up their abode in the lying-in-room for ten days. Kadru introduces herself in a subtle form into the body of a pregnant woman and there she causes the destruction of the foetus, and the mother is made to give birth to a _Naga_ (serpent). And that mother of the Gandharvas takes away the foetus, and for this reason, conception in woman turns out to be abortive. The mother of the _Apsaras_ removes the foetus from the womb, and for this reason such conceptions are said to be stationary by the learned. The daughter of the Divinity of the Red Sea is said to have nursed Skanda,--she is worshipped under the name of Lohitayani on Kadamva trees. Arya acts the same part among female beings, as Rudra does among male ones. She is the mother of all children and is distinctly worshipped for their welfare. These that I have described are the evil spirits presiding over the destinies of young children, and until children attain their sixteenth year, these spirits exercise their influence for evil, and after that, for good. The whole body of male and female spirits that I have now described are always denominated by men as the spirits of Skanda. They are propitiated with burnt offerings, ablutions, unguents, sacrifices and other offerings, and particularly by the worship of Skanda. And, O king, when they are honoured and worshipped with due reverence, they bestow on men whatever is good for them, as also valour and long life. And now having bowed down to Maheswara, I shall describe the nature of those spirits who influence the destinies of men after they have attained their sixteenth year. "'The man who beholds gods while sleeping, or in a wakeful state soon turns mad, and the spirit under whose influence these hallucinations take place is called the celestial spirit. When a person beholds his dead ancestors while he is seated at ease, or lying in his bed, he soon loses his reason, and the spirit which causes this illusion of sensible perception, is called the ancestral spirit. The man who shows disrespect to the _Siddhas_ and who is cursed by them in return, soon runs mad and the evil influence by which this is brought about, is called the _Siddha_ spirit. And the spirit by whose influence a man smells sweet odour, and becomes cognisant of various tastes (when there are no odoriferous or tasteful substances about him) and soon becomes tormented, is called the _Rakshasa_ spirit. And the spirit by whose action celestial musicians (_Gandharvas_) blend their existence into the constitution of a human being, and make him run mad in no time, is called the _Gandharva_ spirit. And that evil spirit by whose influence men are always tormented by _Pisachas_, is called the _Pisacha_ spirit. When the spirit of _Yakshas_ enters into the system of a human being by some accident, he loses his reason immediately, and such a spirit is called the _Yaksha_ spirit. The man who loses his reason on account of his mind being demoralised with vices, runs mad in no time, and his illness must be remedied according to methods prescribed in the _Sastras_. Men also run mad from perplexity, from fear, as also on beholding hideous sights. The remedy lies in quieting their minds. There are three classes of spirits, some are frolicsome, some are gluttonous, and some sensual. Until men attain the age of three score and ten, these evil influences continue to torment them, and then fever becomes the only evil spirit that afflicts sentient beings. These evil spirits always avoid those who have subdued their senses, who are self-restrained, of cleanly habits, god-fearing and free from laziness and contamination. I have thus described to thee, O king, the evil spirits that mould the destinies of men. Thou who art devoted to Maheswara art never troubled by them.'" SECTION CCXXX "Markandeya continued, 'When Skanda had bestowed these powers, Swaha appeared to him and said, "Thou art my natural son,--I desire that thou shalt grant exquisite happiness to me." "'Skanda replied, "What sort of happiness dost thou wish to enjoy?" "'Swaha replied, "O mighty being, I am the favourite daughter of Daksha, by name Swaha; and from my youthful days I have been in love with Hutasana (the Fire-god); but that god, my son, does not understand my feelings. I desire to live for ever with him (as his wife)." "'Skanda replied, "From this day, lady, all the oblations that men of virtuous character, who swerve not from the path of virtue, will offer to their gods or ancestors with incantation of purifying hymns by Brahmanas, shall always be offered (through Agni) coupled with the name of Swaha, and thus, excellent lady, wilt thou always live associated with Agni, the god of fire."' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus addressed and honoured by Skanda, Swaha was greatly pleased; and associated with her husband Pavaka (the Fire-god), she honoured him in return. "'Then _Brahma_, the lord of all creatures, said to Mahasena, "Do thou go and visit thy father Mahadeva, the conqueror of Tripura. Rudra coalescing with Agni (the Fire-god) and Uma with Swaha have combined to make thee invincible for the well-being of all creatures. And the semen of the high-souled Rudra cast into the reproductive organ of Uma was thrown back upon this hill, and hence the twin Mujika and Minjika came into being. A portion of it fell into the Blood Sea, another portion, into the rays of the sun, another upon the earth and thus was it distributed in five portions. Learned men ought to remember that these thy various and fierce-looking followers living on the flesh of animals were produced from the _semen_." "Be it so," so saying, the high-souled Mahasena with fatherly love, honoured his father Maheswara.' "Markandeya continued, 'Men who are desirous of acquiring wealth, should worship those five classes of spirits with the sun flower, and for alleviation of diseases also worship must be rendered to them. The twin Mujika and Minjika begotten by Rudra must always be respected by persons desiring the welfare of little children; and persons who desire to have children born to them must always worship those female spirits who live on human flesh and are produced in trees. Thus all _Pisachas_ are said to be divided into innumerable classes. And now, O king, listen to the origin of the bells and standards of Skanda. Airavata (Indra's elephant) is known to have had two bells of the name of Vaijayanti, and the keen-witted Sakra had them brought to him, and personally gave them to Guha. Visakha took one of those bells and Skanda the other. The standards of both Kartikeya and Visakha were of a red colour. That mighty god Mahasena was pleased with the toys that had been given to him by the gods. Surrounded by hosts of gods and _Pisachas_ and seated on the Golden Mountain, he looked splendid in all the grandeur of prosperity. And that mountain covered with fine forests, also looked grand in his companionship, just as the Mandara hill abounding with excellent caves shines with the rays of the sun. The White Mountain was adorned with whole tracts of wood-land covered with blossoming Santanaka flowers and with forests of Karavira, Parijata, Jaba and Asoke trees,--as also with wild tracts overgrown with Kadamva trees; and it abounded with herds of celestial deer and flocks of celestial birds. And the rumbling of clouds serving the purpose of musical instruments sounded like the murmur of an agitated sea, and celestial Gandharvas and Apsaras began to dance. And there arose a great sound of joy from the merriment of all creatures. Thus the whole world with Indra himself seemed to have been transferred to the White Mountain. And all the people began to observe Skanda with satisfaction in their looks, and they did not at all feel tired of doing so.' "Markandeya continued, 'When that adorable son of the Fire-god was anointed as leader of the celestial army, that grand and happy lord, Hara (Mahadeva) riding with Parvati in a chariot shining with sunlike refulgence repaired to a place called Bhadravata. His excellent chariot was drawn by a thousand lions and managed by _Kala_. They passed through blank space, and seemed as if they were about to devour the sky; and striking terror into the heart of all creatures in the mobile divisions of the worlds, those maned beasts flitted through the air, uttering fearful growls. And that lord of all animals (Mahadeva) seated in that chariot with Uma, looked like the sun with flames of lightning illuminating masses of clouds begirt with Indra's bow (rainbow). He was preceded by that adorable Lord of riches riding on the backs of human beings with his attendant Guhyakas riding in his beautiful car Pushpaka. And Sakra too riding on his elephant Airavata and accompanied by other gods brought up the rear of Mahadeva, the granter of boons, marching in this way at the head of the celestial army. And the great _Yaksha Amogha_ with his attendants--the _Jambhaka Yakshas_ and other _Rakshasas_ decorated with garlands of flowers--obtained a place in the right wing of his army; and many gods of wonderful fighting powers in company with the _Vasus_ and the _Rudras_, also marched with the right division of his army. And the terrible-looking Yama too in company with Death marched with him (followed by hundreds of terrible diseases); and behind him was carried the terrible, sharp-pointed, well-decorated trident of Siva, called Vijaya. And Varuna, the adorable lord of waters with his terrible _Pasa_,[40] and surrounded by numerous aquatic animals, marched slowly with the trident. And the trident Vijaya was followed by the _Pattisa_[41] of Rudra guarded by maces, balls, clubs and other excellent weapons. And the _Pattisa_, O king, was followed by the bright umbrella of Rudra and the Kamandalu served by the _Maharshis_; and on it progressed in the company of Bhrigu, Angiras and others. And behind all these rode Rudra in his white chariot, re-assuring the gods with the exhibition of his powers. And rivers and lakes and seas, _Apsaras, Rishis_, Celestials, _Gandharvas_ and serpents, stars, planets, and the children of gods, as also many women, followed him in his train. These handsome-looking ladies proceeded scattering flowers all around; and the clouds marched, having made their obeisance to that god (Mahadeva) armed with the _Pinaka_ bow. And some of them held a white umbrella over his head, and Agni (the Fire god) and Vayu (the god of winds) busied themselves with two hairy fans (emblems of royalty). And, O king, he was followed by the glorious Indra accompanied by the _Rajarshis_, and singing the praise of that god with the emblem of the bull. And Gauri, Vidya, Gandhari, Kesini, and the lady called Mitra in company with Savitri, all proceeded in the train of Parvati, as also all the Vidyas (presiding deities of all branches of knowledge) that were created by the learned. The _Rakshasa_ spirit who delivers to different battalions the commands which are implicitly obeyed by Indra and other gods, advanced in front of the army as standard-bearer. And that foremost of _Rakshasas_, by name Pingala, the friend of Rudra, who is always busy in places where corpses are burnt, and who is agreeable to all people, marched with them merrily, at one time going ahead of the army, and falling behind again at another, his movements being uncertain. Virtuous actions are the offerings with which the god Rudra is worshipped by mortals. He who is also called Siva, the omnipotent god, armed with the Pinaka bow, is Maheswara. He is worshipped in various forms. [40] A kind of missile. [41] Another kind of weapon. "'The son of Krittika, the leader of the celestial army, respectful to Brahmanas, surrounded by the celestial forces, also followed that lord of the gods. And then Mahadeva said these weighty words to Mahasena, "Do thou carefully command the seventh army corps of the celestial forces." "'Skanda replied, "Very well, my lord! I shall command the seventh army corps. Now tell me quickly if there is anything else to be done." "'Rudra said, "Thou shall always find me in the field of action. By looking up to me and by devotion to me shalt thou attain great welfare."' "Markandeya continued, 'With these words Maheswara received him in his embrace, and then dismissed him. And, O great king, after the dismissal of Skanda, prodigies of various kinds occurred to disturb the equanimity of the gods. "'The firmament with the stars was in a blaze, and the whole universe in a state of utter confusion. The earth quaked and gave forth a rumbling sound, and darkness overspread the whole world. Then observing this terrible catastrophy, Sankara with the estimable Uma, and the celestials with the great _Maharshis_, were much exercised in mind. And when they had fallen into this state of confusion, there appeared before them a fierce and mighty host armed with various weapons, and looking like a mass of clouds and rocks. Those terrible and countless beings, speaking different languages directed their movements towards the point where Sankara and the celestials stood. They hurled into the ranks of the celestial army flights of arrows in all directions, masses of rock, maces, _sataghnis, prasas_ and _parighas_. The celestial army was thrown into a state of confusion by a shower of these terrible weapons and their ranks were seen to waver. The _Danavas_ made a great havoc by cutting up their soldiers, horses, elephants, chariots and arms. And the celestial troops then seemed as if they were about to turn their backs upon the enemy. And numbers of them fell, slain by the _Asuras_, like large trees in a forest burnt in a conflagration. Those dwellers of heaven fell with their heads separated from their bodies, and having none to lead them in that fearful battle, they were slaughtered by the enemy. And then the god Purandara (Indra), the slayer of Vala, observing that they were unsteady and hard-pressed by the _Asuras_, tried to rally them with this speech, "Do not be afraid, ye heroes, may success attend your efforts! Do ye all take up your arms, and resolve upon manly conduct, and ye will meet with no more misfortune, and defeat those wicked and terrible-looking _Danavas_. May ye be successful! Do ye fall upon the _Danavas_ with me." "'The dwellers of heaven were re-assured on hearing this speech from Sakra; and under his leadership, they again rushed against the _Danavas_. And then the thirty-three crores of gods and all the powerful _Marutas_ and the _Sadhyas_ with the _Vasus_ returned to the charge. And the arrows which they angrily discharged against the enemy drew a large quantity of blood from the bodies of the _Daityas_ and of their horses and elephants. And those sharp arrows passing through their bodies fell upon the ground, looking like so many snakes falling from the sides of a hill. And, O king, the _Daityas_ pierced by those arrows fell fast on all sides, looking like so many detached masses of clouds. Then the _Danava_ host, struck with panic at that charge of the celestials on the field of battle, wavered at that shower of various weapons. Then all the gods loudly gave vent to their joy, with arms ready to strike; and the celestial bands too struck up various airs. Thus took place that encounter, so fearful to both sides: for all the battle-field was covered with blood and strewn with the bodies of both gods and _Asuras_. But the gods were soon worsted all on a sudden, and the terrible _Danavas_ again made a great havoc of the celestial army. Then the _Asuras_ drums struck up and their shrill bugles were sounded; and the _Danava_ chiefs yelled their terrific war-cry. "'Then a powerful _Danava_, taking a huge mass of rock in his hands, came out of that terrible _Daitya_ army. He looked like the sun peering forth from against a mass of dark clouds. And, O king, the celestials, beholding that he was about to hurl that mass of rock at them, fled in confusion. But they were pursued by Mahisha, who hurled that hillock at them. And, O lord of the world, by the falling of that mass of rock, ten thousand warriors of the celestial army were crushed to the ground and breathed their last. And this act of Mahisha struck terror into the hearts of the gods, and with his attendant _Danavas_ he fell upon them like a lion attacking a herd of deer. And when Indra and the other celestials observed that Mahisha was advancing to the charge, they fled, leaving behind their arms and colours. And Mahisha was greatly enraged at this, and he quickly advanced towards the chariot of Rudra; and reaching near, he seized its pole with his hands. And when Mahisha in a fit of rage had thus seized the chariot of Rudra, all the Earth began to groan and the great _Rishis_ lost their senses. And _Daityas_ of huge proportions, looking like dark clouds, were boisterous with joy, thinking that victory was assured to them. And although that adorable god (Rudra) was in that plight, yet he did not think it worth while to kill Mahisha in battle; he remembered that Skanda would deal the deathblow to that evil-minded _Asura_. And the fiery Mahisha, contemplating with satisfaction the prize (the chariot of Rudra) which he had secured, sounded his war-cry, to the great alarm of the gods and the joy of the _Daityas_. And when the gods were in that fearful predicament, the mighty Mahasena, burning with anger, and looking grand like the Sun advanced to their rescue. And that lordly being was clad in blazing red and decked with a wreath of red flowers. And cased in armour of gold he rode in a gold-coloured chariot bright as the Sun and drawn by chestnut horses. And at his sight the army of the daityas was suddenly dispirited on the field of battle. And, O great king, the mighty Mahasena discharged a bright _Sakti_ for the destruction of Mahisha. That missile cut off the head of Mahisha, and he fell upon the ground and died. And his head massive as a hillock, falling on the ground, barred the entrance to the country of the Northern Kurus, extending in length for sixteen _Yojanas_ though at present the people of that country pass easily by that gate. "'It was observed both by the gods and the _Danavas_ that Skanda hurled his _sakti_ again and again on the field of battle, and that it returned to his hands, after killing thousands of the enemy's forces. And the terrible _Danavas_ fell in large numbers by the arrows of the wise Mahasena. And then a panic seized them, and the followers of Skanda began to slay and eat them up by thousands and drink their blood. And they joyously exterminated the _Danavas_ in no time, just as the sun destroys darkness, or as fire destroys a forest, or as the winds drive away the clouds. And in this manner the famous Skanda defeated all his enemies. And the gods came to congratulate him, and he, in turn, paid his respects to Maheswara. And that son of Krittika looked grand like the sun in all the glory of his effulgence. And when the enemy was completely defeated by Skanda and when Maheswara left the battle-field, Purandara embraced Mahasena and said to him, "This Mahisha, who was made invincible by the favour of Brahma hath been killed by thee. O best of warriors, the gods were like grass to him. O strong-limbed hero, thou hast removed a thorn of the celestials. Thou hast killed in battle hundreds of Danavas equal in valour to Mahisha who were all hostile to us, and who used to harass us before. And thy followers too have devoured them by hundreds. Thou art, O mighty being, invincible in battle like Uma's lord; and this victory shall be celebrated as thy first achievement, and thy fame shall be undying in the three worlds. And, O strong-armed god, all the gods will yield their allegiance to thee." Having spoken thus to Mahasena, the husband of Sachi left the place accompanied by the gods and with the permission of the adorable three-eyed god (Siva). And Rudra returned to Bhadravata, and the celestials too returned to their respective abodes. And Rudra spoke, addressing the gods, "Ye must render allegiance to Skanda just as ye do unto me." And that son of the Fire-god, having killed the Danavas hath conquered the three worlds, in one day, and he hath been worshipped by the great _Rishis_. The Brahmana who with due attention readeth this story of the birth of Skanda, attaineth to great prosperity in this world and the companionship of Skanda hereafter.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O good and adorable Brahmana, I wish to know the different names of that high-souled being, by which he is celebrated throughout the three worlds.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by the Pandava in that assembly of _Rishis_, the worshipful Markandeya of high ascetic merit replied, 'Agneya (Son of Agni), Skanda (Cast-off), Diptakirti (Of blazing fame), Anamaya (Always hale), Mayuraketu (Peacock-bannered), Dharmatman (The virtuous-souled), Bhutesa (The lord of all creatures), Mahishardana (The slayer of Mahisha), Kamajit (The subjugator of desires), Kamada (The fulfiller of desires), Kanta (The handsome), Satyavak (The truthful in speech), Bhuvaneswara (The lord of the universe), Sisu (The child), Sighra (The quick), Suchi (The pure), Chanda (The fiery), Diptavarna (The bright-complexioned), Subhanana (Of beautiful face), Amogha (Incapable of being baffled), Anagha (The sinless), Rudra (The terrible), Priya (The favourite), Chandranana (Of face like the moon), Dipta-sasti (The wielder of the blazing lance), Prasantatman (Of tranquil soul), Bhadrakrit (The doer of good), Kutamahana (The chamber of even the wicked), Shashthipriya (True favourite of Shashthi), Pavitra (The holy), Matrivatsala (The reverencer of his mother), Kanya-bhartri (The protector of virgins), Vibhakta (Diffused over the universe), Swaheya (The son of Swaha), Revatisuta (The child of Revati), Prabhu (The Lord), Neta (The leader), Visakha (Reared up by Visakha), Naigameya (Sprang from the Veda), Suduschara (Difficult of propitiation), Suvrata (Of excellent vows), Lalita (The beautiful), Valakridanaka-priya (Fond of toys), Khacharin (The ranger of skies), Brahmacharin (The chaste), Sura (The brave), Saravanodbhava (Born in a forest of heath), Viswamitra priya (The favourite of Viswamitra), Devasena-priya (The lover of Devasena), Vasudeva-priya (The beloved of Vasudeva), and Priya-krit (The doer of agreeable things)--these are the divine names of Kartikeya. Whoever repeateth them, undoubtedly secureth fame, wealth, and salvation.' "Markandeya continued, 'O valiant scion of Kuru's race, I shall now with due devotion pray to that unrivalled, mighty, six-faced, and valiant Guha who is worshipped by gods and _Rishis_, enumerating his other titles of distinction: do thou listen to them: Thou art devoted to _Brahma_, begotten of Brahma, and versed in the mysteries of _Brahma_. Thou art called _Brahmasaya_, and thou art the foremost of those who are possessed of _Brahma_. Thou art fond of _Brahma_, thou art austere like the Brahmanas and art versed in the great mystery of _Brahma_ and the leader of the Brahmanas. Thou art _Swaha_, thou art _Swadha_, and thou art the holiest of the holy, and art invoked in hymns and celebrated as the six-flamed fire. Thou art the year, thou art the six seasons, thou art the months, the (lunar) half months, the (solar) declinations, and the cardinal points of space. Thou art lotus-eyed. Thou art possessed of a lily-like face. Thou hast a thousand faces and a thousand arms. Thou art the ruler of the universe, thou art the great Oblation, and thou art the animating spirit of all the gods and the _Asuras_. Thou art the great leader of armies. Thou art _Prachanda_ (furious), thou art the Lord, and thou art the great master and the conqueror of thine enemies. Thou art _Sahasrabhu_ (multiform), _Sahasratusti_ (a thousand times content), _Sahasrabhuk_ (devourer of everything), and _Sahasrapad_ (of a thousand legs), and thou art the earth itself. Thou art possessed of infinite forms and thousand heads and great strength. According to thine own inclinations thou hast appeared as the son of Ganga, Swaha, Mahi, or Krittika. O six-faced god, thou dost play with the cock and assume different forms according to thy will. Thou art Daksha, Soma, the Maruta, Dharma, Vayu, the prince of mountains, and Indra, for all time. Thou art mighty, the most eternal of all eternal things, and the lord of all lords. Thou art the progenitor of Truth, the destroyer of Diti's progeny (_Asuras_), and the great conqueror of the enemies of the celestials. Thou art the personation of virtue and being thyself vast and minute, thou art acquainted with the highest and lowest points of virtuous acts, and the mysteries of _Brahma_. O foremost of all gods and high-souled lord of the Universe, this whole creation is over-spread with thy energy! I have thus prayed to thee according to the best of my power. I salute thee who art possessed of twelve eyes and many hands. Thy remaining attributes transcend my powers of comprehension!' "'The Brahmana who with due attention readeth this story of the birth of Skanda, or relateth it unto Brahmanas, or hears it narrated by regenerate men, attaineth to wealth, long life, fame, children, as also victory, prosperity and contentment, and the companionship of Skanda.'" SECTION CCXXXI (_Draupadi-Satyabhama Samvada_) Vaisampayana said, "After those Brahmanas and the illustrious sons of Pandu had taken their seats, Draupadi and Satyabhama entered the hermitage. And with hearts full of joy the two ladies laughed merrily and seated themselves at their ease. And, O king, those ladies, who always spake sweetly to each other, having met after a long time, began to talk upon various delightful topics arising out of the stories of the Kurus and the Yadus. And the slender-waisted Satyabhama, the favourite wife of Krishna and the daughter of Satrajit, then asked Draupadi in private, saying, 'By what behaviour is it, O daughter of Drupada, that thou art able to rule the sons of Pandu--those heroes endued with strength and beauty and like unto the _Lokapalas_ themselves? Beautiful lady, how is it that they are so obedient to thee and are never angry with thee? Without doubt the sons of Pandu, O thou of lovely features, are ever submissive to thee and watchful to do thy bidding! Tell me, O lady, the reason of this. Is it practice of vows, or asceticism, or incantation or drug at the time of the bath (in season) or the efficacy of science, or the influence of youthful appearance, or the recitation of particular formulae, or _Homa_, or collyrium and other medicaments? Tell me now, O princess of Panchala, of that blessed and auspicious thing by which, O Krishna, Krishna may ever be obedient to me.' "When the celebrated Satyabhama, having said this, ceased, the chaste and blessed daughter of Drupada answered her, saying, 'Thou askedest me, O Satyabhama, of the practices of women that are wicked. How can I answer thee, O lady, about the cause that is pursued by wicked females? It doth not become thee, lady, to pursue the questions, or doubt me, after this, for thou art endued with intelligence and art the favourite wife of Krishna. When the husband learns that his wife is addicted to incantations and drugs, from that hour he beginneth to dread her like a serpent ensconced in his sleeping chamber. And can a man that is troubled with fear have peace, and how can one that hath no peace have happiness? A husband can never be made obedient by his wife's incantations. We hear of painful diseases being transmitted by enemies. Indeed, they that desire to slay others, send poison in the shape of customary gifts, so that the man that taketh the powders so sent, by tongue or skin, is, without doubt, speedily deprived of life. Women have sometimes caused dropsy and leprosy, decrepitude and impotence and idiocy and blindness and deafness in men. These wicked women, ever treading in the path of sin, do sometimes (by these means) injure their husbands. But the wife should never do the least injury to her lord. Hear now, O illustrious lady, of the behaviour I adopt towards the high-souled sons of Pandu. Keeping aside vanity, and controlling desire and wrath, I always serve with devotion the sons of Pandu with their wives. Restraining jealousy, with deep devotion of heart, without a sense of degradation at the services I perform, I wait upon my husbands. Ever fearing to utter what is evil or false, or to look or sit or walk with impropriety, or cast glances indicative of the feelings of the heart, do I serve the sons of Pritha--those mighty warriors blazing like the sun or fire, and handsome as the moon, those endued with fierce energy and prowess, and capable of slaying their foes by a glance of the eye. Celestial, or man, or Gandharva, young or decked with ornaments, wealthy or comely of person, none else my heart liketh. I never bathe or eat or sleep till he that is my husband hath bathed or eaten or slept,--till, in fact, our attendants have bathed, eaten, or slept. Whether returning from the field, the forest, or the town, hastily rising up I always salute my husband with water and a seat. I always keep the house and all household articles and the food that is to be taken well-ordered and clean. Carefully do I keep the rice, and serve the food at the proper time. I never indulge in angry and fretful speech, and never imitate women that are wicked. Keeping idleness at distance I always do what is agreeable. I never laugh except at a jest, and never stay for any length of time at the house-gate. I never stay long in places for answering calls of nature, nor in pleasure-gardens attached to the house. I always refrain from laughing loudly and indulging in high passion, and from everything that may give offence. Indeed, O Satyabhama, I always am engaged in waiting upon my lords. A separation from my lords is never agreeable to me. When my husband leaveth home for the sake of any relative, then renouncing flowers and fragrant paste of every kind, I begin to undergo penances. Whatever my husband drinketh not, whatever my husband eateth not, whatever my husband enjoyeth not, I ever renounce. O beautiful lady, decked in ornaments and ever controlled by the instruction imparted to me, I always devotedly seek the good of my lord. Those duties that my mother-in-law had told me of in respect of relatives, as also the duties of alms-giving, of offering worship to the gods, of oblations to the diseased, of boiling food in pots on auspicious days for offer to ancestors and guests of reverence and service to those that deserve our regards, and all else that is known to me, I always discharge day and night, without idleness of any kind. Having with my whole heart recourse to humility and approved rules I serve my meek and truthful lords ever observant of virtue, regarding them as poisonous snakes capable of being excited at a trifle. I think that to be eternal virtue for women which is based upon a regard for the husband. The husband is the wife's god, and he is her refuge. Indeed, there is no other refuge for her. How can, then, the wife do the least injury to her lord? I never, in sleeping or eating or adorning any person, act against the wishes of my lord, and always guided by my husbands, I never speak ill of my mother-in-law. O blessed lady, my husbands have become obedient to me in consequence of my diligence, my alacrity, and the humility with which I serve superiors. Personally do I wait every day with food and drink and clothes upon the revered and truthful Kunti--that mother of heroes. Never do I show any preference for myself over her in matters of food and attire, and never do I reprove in words that princess equal unto the Earth herself in forgiveness. Formerly, eight thousand Brahmanas were daily fed in the palace of Yudhishthira from off plates of gold. And eighty thousand Brahmanas also of the _Snataka_ sect leading domestic lives were entertained by Yudhishthira with thirty serving-maids assigned to each. Besides these, ten thousand _yatis_ with the vital seed drawn up, had their pure food carried unto them in plates of gold. All these Brahmanas that were the utterers of the _Veda_, I used to worship duly with food, drink, and raiment taken from stores only after a portion thereof had been dedicated to the Viswadeva.[42] The illustrious son of Kunti had a hundred thousand well-dressed serving-maids with bracelets on arms and golden ornaments on necks, and decked with costly garlands and wreaths and gold in profusion, and sprinkled with sandal paste. And adorned with jewels and gold they were all skilled in singing and dancing. O lady, I knew the names and features of all those girls, as also what they are and what they were, and what they did not. Kunti's son of great intelligence had also a hundred thousand maid-servants who daily used to feed guests, with plates of gold in their hands. And while Yudhishthira lived in Indraprastha a hundred thousand horses and a hundred thousand elephants used to follow in his train. These were the possessions of Yudhishthira while he ruled the earth. It was I however, O lady, who regulated their number and framed the rules to be observed in respect of them; and it was I who had to listen to all complaints about them. Indeed, I knew everything about what the maid-servants of the palace and other classes of attendants, even the cow-herds and the shepherds of the royal establishment, did or did not. O blessed and illustrious lady, it was I alone amongst the Pandavas who knew the income and expenditure of the king and what their whole wealth was. And those bulls among the Bharatas, throwing upon me the burden of looking after all those that were to be fed by them, would, O thou of handsome face, pay their court to me. And this load, so heavy and incapable of being borne by persons of evil heart, I used to bear day and night, sacrificing my ease, and all the while affectionately devoted to them. And while my husbands were engaged in the pursuit of virtue, I only supervised their treasury inexhaustible like the ever-filled receptacle of Varuna. Day and night bearing hunger and thirst, I used to serve the Kuru princes, so that my nights and days were equal to me. I used to wake up first and go to bed last. This, O Satyabhama, hath ever been my charm for making my husbands obedient to me! This great art hath ever been known to me for making my husbands obedient to me. Never have I practised the charms of wicked women, nor do I ever wish to practise them.'" [42] The word in the text is "Agrahara," which, as Nilakantha explains, means here, "That which is first taken from a heap after the dedication of a portion to the Viswadevas." What Draupadi means to say is, that she always took care to feed those Brahmanas with food "first" taken from the stores, without, in fact, having taken anything there from the use of anybody else. Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing those words of virtuous import uttered by Krishna, Satyabhama, having first reverenced the virtuous princess of Panchala, answered saying, 'O princess of Panchala, I have been guilty, O daughter of Yajnasena, forgive me! Among friends, conversations in jest arise naturally, and without premeditation.'" SECTION CCXXXII "Draupadi said, 'I shall now indicate to thee, for attracting the heart of thy husbands a way that is free from deceit. By adopting it duly, dear friend, thou will be able to draw away thy lord from other females. In all the worlds, including that of the celestials, there is no god equal, O Satyabhama, unto the husband. When he is gratified with thee, thou mayst have (from thy husband) every object of desire; when he is angry, all these may be lost. It is from her husband that the wife obtaineth offspring and various articles of enjoyment. It is from thy husband that thou mayst have handsome beds and seats, and robes and garlands, and perfumes, and great fame and heaven itself hereafter. One cannot obtain happiness here by means that are easy. Indeed, the woman that is chaste, obtains weal with woe. Always adore Krishna, therefore, with friendship and love physical sufferings. And do thou also act in a way, by offering handsome seats and excellent garlands and various perfumes and prompt service, that he may be devoted to thee, thinking, "_I am truly loved by her!_" Hearing the voice of thy lord at the gate, rise thou up from thy seat and stay in readiness within the room. And as soon as thou seest him enter thy chamber, worship him by promptly offering him a seat and water to wash his feet. And even when he commands a maidservant to do anything, get thou up and do it thyself. Let Krishna understand this temper of thy mind and know that thou adorest him with all thy heart. And, O Satyabhama, whatever thy lord speaketh before thee, do not blab of it even if it may not deserve concealment,--for if any of thy co-wives were to speak of it unto Vasudeva, he might be irritated with thee. Feed thou by every means in thy power those that are dear and devoted to thy lord and always seek his good. Thou shouldst, however, always keep thyself aloof from those that are hostile to and against thy lord and seek to do him injury, as also from those that are addicted to deceit. Foregoing all excitement and carelessness in the presence of men, conceal thy inclinations by observing silence, and thou shouldst not stay or converse in private even with thy sons, Pradyumna and Samva. Thou shouldst form attachments with only such females as are high-born and sinless and devoted to their lords, and thou shouldst always shun women that are wrathful, addicted to drinks, gluttonous, thievish, wicked and fickle. Behaviour such as this is reputable and productive of prosperity; and while it is capable of neutralising hostility, it also leadeth to heaven. Therefore, worship thou thy husband, decking thyself in costly garlands and ornaments and smearing thyself with unguents and excellent perfumes.'" SECTION CCXXXIII Vaisampayana said, "Then Kesava, the slayer of Madhu, also called Janardana, having conversed on various agreeable themes with the illustrious sons of Pandu and with those Brahmanas that were headed by Markandeya and having bid them farewell, mounted his car and called for Satyabhama. And Satyabhama then, having embraced the daughter of Drupada, addressed her in these cordial words expressive of her feelings towards her: 'O Krishna, let there be no anxiety, no grief, for thee! Thou hast no cause to pass thy nights in sleeplessness, for thou wilt surely obtain back the earth subjugated by thy husbands, who are all equal unto the gods. O thou of black eyes, women endued with such disposition and possessed of such auspicious marks, can never suffer misfortune long. It hath been heard by me that thou shall, with thy husbands, certainly enjoy this earth peacefully and freed from all thorns! And, O daughter of Drupada, thou shalt certainly behold the earth ruled by Yudhishthira after the sons of Dhritarashtra have been slain and the deeds of their hostility avenged! Thou wilt soon behold those wives of the Kurus, who, deprived of sense by pride, laughed at thee while on thy way to exile, themselves reduced to a state of helplessness and despair! Know them all, O Krishna, that did thee any injury while thou wert afflicted, to have already gone to the abode of Yama. Thy brave sons, Prativindhya by Yudhishthira and Sutasoma by Bhima, and Srutakarman by Arjuna, and Satanika by Nakula, and Srutasena begot by Sahadeva, are well and have become skilled in weapons. Like Abhimanyu they are all staying at Dwaravati, delighted with the place. And Subhadra also, cheerfully and with her whole soul, looketh after them like thee, and like thee joyeth in them and deriveth much happiness from them. Indeed, she grieveth in their griefs and joyeth in their joys. And the mother of Pradyumna also loveth them with her whole soul. And Kesava with his sons Bhanu and others watcheth over them with especial affection. And my mother-in-law is ever attentive in feeding and clothing them. And the Andhakas and Vrishnis, including Rama and others, regard them with affection. And, O beautiful lady, their affection for thy sons is equal unto what they feel for Pradyumna.' "Having said these agreeable and truthful and cordial words, Satyabhama desired to go to Vasudeva's car. And the wife of Krishna then walked round the queen of the Pandavas. And having done so the beautiful Satyabhama mounted the car of Krishna. And the chief of the Yadavas, comforting Draupadi with a smile and causing the Pandavas to return, set out for his own city, with swift horses (yoked unto his car)." SECTION CCXXXIV (_Ghosha-yatra Parva_) Janamejaya said, "While those foremost of men--the sons of Pritha--were passing their days in the forest exposed to the inclemencies of the winter, the summer, the wind and the sun, what did they do, O Brahmana, after they had reached the lake and woods going by the name of Dwaita?" Vaisampayana said, "After the sons of Pandu had arrived at that lake, they chose a residence that was removed from the habitations of men. And they began to roam through delightful woods and ever charming mountains and picturesque river-valleys. And after they had taken up their residence there, many venerable ascetics endued with Vedic lore often came to see them. And those foremost of men always received those _Veda_-knowing _Rishis_ with great respect. And one day there came unto the Kaurava princes a certain Brahmana who was well known on earth for his powers of speech. And having conversed with the Pandavas for a while, he went away as pleased him to the court of the royal son of Vichitravirya. Received with respect by that chief of the Kurus, the old king, the Brahmana took his seat; and asked by the monarch he began to talk of the sons of Dharma, Pavana, Indra and of the twins, all of whom having fallen into severe misery, had become emaciated and reduced owing to exposure to wind and sun. And that Brahmana also talked of Krishna who was overwhelmed with suffering and who then had become perfectly helpless, although she had heroes for her lords. And hearing the words of that Brahmana, the royal son of Vichitravirya became afflicted with grief, at the thought of those princes of royal lineage then swimming in a river of sorrow. His inmost soul afflicted with sorrow and trembling all over with sighs, he quieted himself with a great effort, remembering that everything had arisen from his own fault. And the monarch said, 'Alas, how is it that Yudhishthira who is the eldest of my sons, who is truthful and pious and virtuous in his behaviour, who hath not a foe, who had formerly slept on beds made of soft _Ranku_ skins, sleepeth now on the bare ground! Alas, wakened formerly by _Sutas_ and _Magadhas_ and other singers with his praises, melodiously recited every morning, that prince of the Kuru race, equal unto Indra himself, is now waked from the bare ground towards the small hours of the night by a multitude of birds! How doth Vrikodara, reduced by exposure to wind and sun and filled with wrath, sleep, in the presence of the princess of Panchala, on the bare ground, unfit as he is to suffer such lot! Perhaps also, the intelligent Arjuna, who is incapable of bearing pain, and who, though obedient to the will of Yudhishthira, yet feeleth himself to be pierced over all by the remembrance of his wrongs, sleepeth not in the night! Beholding the twins and Krishna and Yudhishthira and Bhima plunged in misery, Arjuna without doubt, sigheth like a serpent of fierce energy and sleepeth not from wrath in the night! The twins also, who are even like a couple of blessed celestials in heaven sunk in woe though deserving of bliss, without doubt pass their nights in restless wakefulness restrained (from avenging their wrongs) by virtue and truth! The mighty son of the Wind-god, who is equal to the Wind-god himself in strength, without doubt, sigheth and restraineth his wrath, being tied through his elder brother in the bonds of truth! Superior in battle to all warriors, he now lieth quiet on the ground, restrained by virtue and truth, and burning to slay my children, he bideth his time. The cruel words that Dussasana spoke after Yudhishthira had been deceitfully defeated at dice, have sunk deep into Vrikodara's heart, and are consuming him, like a burning bundle of straw consuming a fagot of dry wood! The son of Dharma never acteth sinfully; Dhananjaya also always obeyeth him; but Bhima's wrath, in consequence of a life of exile, is increasing like a conflagration assisted by the wind! That hero, burning with rage such as that, squeezeth his hands and breatheth hot and fierce sighs, as if consuming therewith my sons and grandsons! The wielder of the _Gandiva_ and Vrikodara, when angry, are like Yama and Kala themselves; scattering their shafts, which are like unto thunder-bolts, they exterminate in battle the ranks of the enemy. Alas Duryodhana, and Sakuni, and the _Suta's_ son, and Dussasana also of wicked soul, in robbing the Pandavas of their kingdom by means of dice, seem to behold the honey alone without marking the terrible ruin. A man having acted rightly or wrongly, expecteth the fruit of those acts. The fruit, however, confounding him, paralyses him fully. How can man, thereof, have salvation? If the soil is properly tilled, and the seed sown therein, and if the god (of rain) showereth in season, still the crop may not grow. This is what we often hear. Indeed, how could this saying be true unless, as I think, it be that everything here is dependent on Destiny? The gambler Sakuni hath behaved deceitfully towards the son of Pandu, who ever acteth honestly. From affection for my wicked sons I also have acted similarly. Alas, it is owing to this that the hour of destruction hath come for the Kurus! Oh, perhaps, what is inevitable must happen! The wind, impelled or not, will move. The woman that conceives will bring forth. Darkness will be dispelled at dawn, and day disappear at evening! Whatever may be earned by us or others, whether people spend it or not, when the time cometh, those possessions of ours do bring on misery. Why then do people become so anxious about earning wealth? If, indeed, what is acquired is the result of fate, then should it be protected so that it may not be divided, nor lost little by little, nor permitted to flow out at once, for if unprotected, it may break into a hundred fragments. But whatever the character of our possessions, our acts in the world are never lost. Behold what the energy of Arjuna is, who went into the abode of Indra from the woods! Having mastered the four kinds of celestial weapons he hath come back into this world! What man is there who, having gone to heaven in his human form, wisheth to come back? This would never have been but because he seeth innumerable Kurus to be at the point of death, afflicted by Time! The bowman is Arjuna, capable of wielding the bow with his left hand as well! The bow he wieldeth is the _Gandiva_ of fierce impetus. He hath, besides, those celestial weapons of his! Who is there that would bear the energy of these three!' "Hearing these words of the monarch, the son of Suvala, going unto Duryodhana, who was then sitting with Karna, told them everything in private. And Duryodhana, though possessed of little sense, was filled with grief at what he heard." SECTION CCXXXV Vaisampayana said, "Hearing those words of Dhritarashtra, Sakuni, when the opportunity presented itself, aided by Karna, spoke unto Duryodhana these words, 'Having exiled the heroic Pandavas by thy own prowess, O Bharata, rule thou this earth without a rival like the slayer of Samvara ruling the heaven! O monarch, the kings of the east, the south, the west, and the north, have all been made tributary to thee! O lord of earth, that blazing Prosperity which had before paid her court to the sons of Pandu, hath now been acquired by thee along with thy brothers! That blazing Prosperity, O king, which we not many days ago saw with heavy hearts in Yudhishthira at Indraprastha, is today seen by us to be owned by thee, she having, O mighty-armed monarch, been snatched by thee from the royal Yudhishthira by force of intellect alone. O slayer of hostile heroes, all the kings of the earth now living in subjection to thee, await thy commands, as they did before under Yudhishthira, awaiting his. O monarch, the goddess Earth with her boundless extent with girth of seas, with her mountains and forests, and towns and cities and mines, and decked with woodlands and hills is now thine! Adored by the Brahmanas and worshipped by the kings, thou blazest forth, O king, in consequence of thy prowess, like the Sun among the gods in heaven! Surrounded by the Kurus, O king, like Yama by the Rudra, or Vasava by the Maruts, thou shinest, O monarch, like the Moon among the stars! Let us, therefore, O king, go and look at the sons of Pandu--them who are now divested of prosperity, them who never obeyed commands, them who never owed subjection! It hath been heard by us, O monarch, that the Pandavas are now living on the banks of the lake called _Dwaitavana_, with a multitude of Brahmanas, having the wilderness for their home. Go thither, O king, in all thy prosperity, scorching the son of Pandu with a sight of thy glory, like the Sun scorching everything with his hot rays! Thyself a sovereign and they divested of sovereignty, thyself in prosperity and they divested of it, thyself possessing affluence and they in poverty, behold now, O king, the sons of Pandu. Let the sons of Pandu behold thee like Yayati, the son of Nahusha, accompanied by a large train of followers and enjoying bliss that is great. O king, that blazing Prosperity which is seen by both one's friends and foes, is regarded as well-bestowed! What happiness can be more complete than that which he enjoyeth who while himself in prosperity, looketh upon his foes in adversity, like a person on the hill top looking down upon another crawling on the earth? O tiger among kings, the happiness that one derives from beholding his foes in grief, is greater than what one may derive from the acquisition of offering or wealth or kingdom! What happiness will not be his who, himself in affluence, will cast his eyes on Dhananjaya attired in barks and deer-skins? Let thy wife dressed in costly robes look at the woeful Krishna clad in barks and deer-skins, and enhance the latter's grief! Let the daughter of Drupada reproach herself and her life, divested as she is of wealth, for the sorrow that she will feel upon beholding thy wife decked in ornaments will be far greater than what she had felt in the midst of the assembly (when Dussasana had dragged her there)!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having thus spoken unto the king, Karna and Sakuni both remained silent, O Janamejaya, after their discourse was over." SECTION CCXXXVI Vaisampayana said, "Having heard these words of Karna, king Duryodhana became highly pleased. Soon after, however, the prince became melancholy and addressing the speaker said, 'What thou tellest me, O Karna, is always before my mind. I shall not, however, obtain permission to repair to the place where the Pandavas are residing. King Dhritarashtra is always grieving for those heroes. Indeed, the king regarded the sons of Pandu to have become more powerful than before in consequence of their ascetic austerities. Or, if the king understands our motives, he will never, having regard to the future, grant us permission, for, O thou of great effulgence, we can have no other business in the woods of _Dwaitavana_ than the destruction of the Pandavas in exile! Thou knowest the words that Kshatri spoke to me, to thyself, and to the son of Suvala, at the time of the match at dice! Reflecting upon all those words as also upon all those lamentations (that he and others indulged in), I cannot make up my mind as to whether I should or should not go! I shall certainly be highly pleased if I cast my eyes on Bhima and Phalguna passing their days in pain with Krishna in the woods. The joy that I may feel in obtaining the sovereignty of the entire earth is nothing to that which will be mine upon beholding the sons of Pandu attired in barks of trees and deer-skins. What joy can be greater, O Karna, that will be mine upon beholding the daughter of Drupada dressed in red rags in the woods? If king Yudhishthira and Bhima, the sons of Pandu, behold me graced with great affluence, then only shall I have attained the great end of my life! I do not, however, see the means by which I may repair to those woods, by which, in fact, I may obtain the king's permission to go thither! Contrive thou, therefore, some skilful plan, with Suvala's son and Dussasana, by which we may go to those woods! I also, making up my mind today as to whether I should go or not, approach the presence of the king tomorrow. And when I shall be sitting with Bhishma--that best of the Kurus--thou wilt, with Sakuni propose the pretext which thou mayst have contrived. Hearing then the words of Bhishma and of the king on the subject of our journey, I will settle everything beseeching our grandfather.' "Saying 'So be it,' they then all went away to their respective quarters. And as soon as the night had passed away, Karna came to the king. And coming to him, Karna smilingly spoke unto Duryodhana, saying, 'A plan hath been contrived by me. Listen to it, O lord of men! Our herds are now waiting in the woods of _Dwaitavana_ in expectation of thee! Without doubt, we may all go there under the pretext of supervising our cattle stations, for, O monarch, it is proper that kings should frequently repair to their cattle stations. If this be the motive put forth, thy father, O prince, will certainly grant thee permission!' And while Duryodhana and Karna were thus conversing laughingly, Sakuni addressed them and said, 'This plan, free from difficulties, was what I also saw for going thither! The king will certainly grant us permission, or even send us thither of his own accord. Our herds are now all waiting in the woods of _Dwaitavana_ expecting thee. Without doubt, we may all go there under the pretext of supervising our cattle stations!' "They then all three laughed together, and gave their hands unto one another. And having arrived at that conclusion, they went to see the chief of Kurus." SECTION CCXXXVII Vaisampayana said, "They then all saw king Dhritarashtra, O Janamejaya, and having seen him, enquired after his welfare, and were, in return, asked about their welfare. Then a cow-herd named Samanga, who had been instructed beforehand by them, approaching the king, spoke unto him of the cattle. Then the son of Radha and Sakuni, O king, addressing Dhritarashtra, that foremost of monarchs, said, 'O Kaurava, our cattle-stations are now in a delightful place. The time for their tale as also for marking the calves hath come. And, O monarch, this also is an excellent season for thy son to go ahunting! It behoveth thee, therefore, to grant permission to Duryodhana to go thither.' "Dhritarashtra replied, 'The chase of the deer, as also the examination of cattle is very proper, O child! I think, indeed, that the herdsmen are not to be trusted. But we have heard that those tigers among men, the Pandavas, are now staying in the vicinity of those cattle stations. I think, therefore, ye should not go thither yourselves! Defeated by deceitful means they are now living in the deep forest in great suffering. O Radheya, they are mighty warriors and naturally able, they are now devoted to ascetic austerities. King Yudhishthira will not suffer his wrath to be awakened, but Bhimasena is naturally passionate. The daughter of Yajnasena is energy's self. Full of pride and folly, ye are certain to give offence. Endued with ascetic merit she will certainly consume you, or perhaps, those heroes, armed with swords and weapons! Nor, if from force of numbers, ye seek to injure them in any respect, that will be a highly improper act, although, as I think, ye will never be able to succeed. The mighty-armed Dhananjaya hath returned thence to the forest. While unaccomplished in arms, Vivatsu had subjugated the whole earth before. A mighty warrior as he is and accomplished in arms now, will he not be able to slay you all? Or, if in obedience to my words, ye behave carefully having repaired thither, ye will not be able to live happily there in consequence of the anxiety ye will feel owing to a state of continued trustlessness. Or, some soldier of yours may do some injury to Yudhishthira, and that unpremeditated act will be ascribed to your fault. Therefore, let some faithful men proceed there for the work of tale. I do not think it is proper for thee, Bharata, to go thither thyself.' "Sakuni said, 'The eldest of the sons of Pandu is cognisant of morality. He pledged in the midst of the assembly, O Bharata, that he would live for twelve years in the forest. The other sons of Pandu are all virtuous and obedient to Yudhishthira. And Yudhishthira himself, the son of Kunti, will never be angry with us. Indeed, we desire very much to go on a hunting expedition, and will avail of that opportunity for supervising the tale of our cattle. We have no mind to see the sons of Pandu. We will not go to that spot where the Pandavas have taken up their residence, and consequently no exhibition of misconduct can possibly arise on our part.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Sakuni, that lord of men, Dhritarashtra, granted permission, but not very willingly, to Duryodhana and his counsellors to go to the place. And permitted by the monarch the Bharata prince born of Gandhari started, accompanied by Karna and surrounded by a large host. And he was also accompanied by Dussasana and Suvala's son of great intelligence and by many other brothers of his and by ladies in thousands. And as the mighty-armed prince started for beholding the lake that was known by the name of _Dwaitavana_, the citizens (of Hastina), also accompanied by their wives began to follow him to that forest. Eight thousand cars, thirty thousand elephants, nine thousand horses, and many thousands of foot-soldiers, and shops and pavilions and traders, bards and men trained in the chase by hundreds and thousands followed the prince. And as the king started, followed by this large concourse of people, the uproar that was caused there resembled, O king, the deep tumult of the ranging winds in the rainy season. And reaching the lake _Dwaitavana_ with all his followers and vehicles, king Duryodhana took up his quarters at the distance of four miles from it." SECTION CCXXXVIII Vaisampayana said, "King Duryodhana then moving from forest to forest, at last approached the cattle-stations, and encamped his troops. And his attendants, selecting a well-known and delightful spot that abounded in water and trees and that possessed every convenience constructed an abode for him. And near enough to the royal residence they also erected separate abodes for Karna and Sakuni and the brothers of the king. And the king beheld his cattle by hundreds and thousands and examining their limbs and marks supervised their tale. And he caused the calves to be marked and took note of those that required to be tamed. And he also counted those kine whose calves had not yet been weaned. And completing the task of tale by marking and counting every calf that was three years old, the Kuru prince, surrounded by the cowherds, began to sport and wander cheerfully. And the citizens also and the soldiers by thousands began to sport, as best pleased them, in those woods, like the celestials. And the herdsmen, well skilled in singing and dancing and instrumental music, and virgins decked in ornaments, began to minister to the pleasures of Dhritarashtra's son. And the king surrounded by the ladies of the royal household began cheerfully to distribute wealth and food and drinks of various kinds amongst those that sought to please him, according to their desires. "And the king, attended by all his followers, began also to slay hyenas and buffaloes and deer and gayals and bears and boars all around. And the king, piercing by his shafts those animals by thousands in deep forest, caused the deer to be caught in the more delightful parts of the woods. Drinking milk and enjoying, O Bharata, various other delicious articles and beholding, as he proceeded, many delightful forests and woods swarming with bees inebriate with floral honey and resounding with the notes of the peacock, the king at last reached the sacred lake of _Dwaitavana_. And the spot which the king reached swarmed with bees inebriate with floral honey, and echoed with the mellifluous notes of the blue-throated jay and was shaded by _Saptacchadas_ and _punnagas_ and _Vakulas_. And the king graced with high prosperity proceeded thither like the thunder-wielding chief of the celestials himself. And, O thou best of the Kuru race, King Yudhishthira the just, endued with high intelligence, was then, O monarch, residing in the vicinity of that lake at will and celebrating with his wedded wife, the daughter of Drupada, the diurnal sacrifice called _Rajarshi_, according to the ordinance sanctioned for the celestials and persons living in the wilderness. And, O monarch, having reached that spot, Duryodhana commanded his men by thousands, saying, 'Let pleasure-houses be constructed soon.' Thus commanded, those doers of the king's behests replying to the Kuru chief with the words, 'So be it,' went towards the banks of the lake for constructing pleasure-houses. And as the picked soldiers of Dhritarashtra's son, having reached the region of the lake, were about to enter the gates of the wood, a number of _Gandharvas_ appeared and forbade them to enter. For, O monarch, the king of the _Gandharvas_ accompanied by his followers, had come thither beforehand, from the abode of _Kuvera_. And the king of the _Gandharvas_ had also been accompanied by the several tribes of _Apsaras_, as also by the sons of the celestials. And intent upon sport, he had come to that place for merriment, and occupying it, had closed it against all comers. And the attendants of the (Kuru) king, finding the lake closed by the king of the _Gandharvas_, went back, O monarch, to where the royal Duryodhana was. And Duryodhana having heard these words, despatched a number of his warriors difficult of being subjugated in battle, commanding them to drive away the _Gandharvas_. And those warriors who formed the vanguard of the Kuru army, hearing these words of the king, went back to the lake of _Dwaitavana_ and addressing the _Gandharvas_, said, 'The mighty king Duryodhana--the son of Dhritarashtra--is coming, hither for sport. Stand ye aside, therefore!' Thus addressed by them, O king, the _Gandharvas_ laughed and replied unto those men in these harsh words: 'Your wicked king Duryodhana must be destitute of sense. How else could he have thus commanded us that are dwellers of heaven, as if indeed, we were his servants? Without forethought, ye also are doubtless on the point of death; for senseless idiots as ye are, ye have dared to bring us his message! Return ye soon to where that king of the Kurus is, or else go this very day to the abode of Yama.' Thus addressed by the _Gandharvas_, the advanced guard of the king's army ran back to the place where the royal son of Dhritarashtra was." SECTION CCXXXIX Vaisampayana said, "Those soldiers then, O king, all went back to Duryodhana and repeated to him every word that the _Gandharvas_ had said. And, O Bharata, finding that his soldiers had been opposed by the _Gandharvas_, Dhritarashtra's son, endued with energy, was filled with rage. And the king addressed his soldiers, saying, 'Punish these wretches who desire to oppose my will, even if they have come hither to sport, accompanied by all the celestials with him of a hundred sacrifices.' And hearing these words of Duryodhana, the sons and officers of Dhritarashtra all endued with great strength, as also warriors by thousands, began to arm themselves for battle. And filling the ten sides with loud leonine roars and rushing at those _Gandharvas_ that had been guarding the gates, they entered the forest. And as the Kuru soldiers entered the forest, other _Gandharvas_ came up and forbade them to advance. And though gently forbidden by the _Gandharvas_ to advance, the Kuru soldiers, without regarding them in the least, began to enter that mighty forest. And when those rangers of the sky found that the warriors of Dhritarashtra along with their king could not be stopped by words they all went to their king Chitrasena and represented everything unto him. And when Chitrasena, the king of the Gandharvas, came to know all this he became filled with rage, alluding to the Kuru, and commanded his followers saying, 'Punish these wretches of wicked behaviour.' And, O Bharata, when the _Gandharvas_ were so commanded by Chitrasena, they rushed weapons in hand, towards the Dhritarashtra ranks. And beholding the _Gandharvas_ impetuously rushing towards them with upraised weapons, the Kuru warriors precipitously fled in all directions at the very sight of Duryodhana. And beholding the Kuru soldiers all flying from the field with their backs to the foe, the heroic Radheya alone fled not. And seeing the mighty host of the Gandharvas rushing towards him, Radheya checked them by a perfect shower of arrows. And the _Suta's_ son, owing to his extreme lightness of hand, struck hundreds of _Gandharvas_ with _Kshurapras_ and arrows and _Bhallas_ and various weapons made of bones and steel. And that mighty warrior, causing the heads of numerous _Gandharvas_ to roll down within a short time, made the ranks of Chitrasena to yell in anguish. And although they were slaughtered in great numbers by Karna endued with great intelligence, yet the _Gandharvas_ returned to the charge by hundreds and thousands. And in consequence of the swarms of Chitrasena's warriors rushing impetuously to the field the earth itself became soon covered by the _Gandharva_ host. Then king Duryodhana, and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, and Dussasana, and Vikarna, and other sons of Dhritarashtra, seated on cars the clatter of whose wheels resembled the roars of Garuda, returned to the charge, following the lead of Karna, and began to slaughter that host. And desirous of supporting Karna, these princes invested the Gandharva army, with a large number of cars and a strong body of horses. Then the whole of the _Gandharva_ host began to fight with the Kauravas. And the encounter that took place between the contending hosts was fierce in the extreme and might make one's hair stand on end. The _Gandharvas_, at last, afflicted with the shafts of the Kuru army, seemed to be exhausted. And the Kauravas beholding the _Gandharvas_ so afflicted sent up a loud sound. "And seeing the _Gandharva_ host yielding to fear, the angry Chitrasena sprang from his seat, resolved to exterminate the Kuru army. And conversant with various modes of warfare, he waged on the fight, aided by his weapons of illusion. And the Kaurava warriors were then all deprived of their senses by the illusion of Chitrasena. And then, O Bharata, it seemed that every warrior of the Kuru army was fallen upon and surrounded by ten _Gandharvas_. And attacked with great vigour, the Kuru host was greatly afflicted and struck with panic. O king, all of them that liked to live, fled from the field. But while the entire Dhritarashtra host broke and fled, Karna, that offspring of the Sun, stood there, O king, immovable as a hill. Indeed, Duryodhana and Karna and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, all fought with the _Gandharvas_, although every one of them was much wounded and mangled in the encounter. All the _Gandharvas_ then, desirous of slaying Karna, rushed together by hundreds and thousands towards Karna. And those mighty warriors, desirous of slaying the _Suta's_ son, surrounded him on all sides, with swords and battle-axes and spears. And some cut down the yoke of his car, and some his flagstaff, and some the shaft of his car, and some his horses, and some his charioteer. And some cut down his umbrella and some the wooden fender round his car and some the joints of his car. It was thus that many thousands of Gandharvas, together attacking his car, broke it into minute fragments. And while his car was thus attacked, Karna leaped therefrom with sword and shield in hand, and mounting on Vikarna's car, urged the steeds for saving himself." SECTION CCXL Vaisampayana said, "After that great warrior Karna had been routed by the _Gandharvas_, the whole of the Kuru army, O monarch, fled from the field in the very sight of Dhritarashtra's son. And beholding all his troops flying from the field of battle with their back to the foe, king Duryodhana refused to fly. Seeing the mighty host of the _Gandharvas_ rushing towards him, that represser of foes poured down upon them a thick shower of arrows. The _Gandharvas_, however, without regarding that arrowy shower, and desirous also of slaying him, surrounded that car of his. And by means of their arrows, they cut off into fragments the yoke, the shaft, the fenders, the flagstaff, the three-fold bamboo poles, and the principal turret of his car. And they also slew his charioteer and horses, hacking them to pieces. And when Duryodhana, deprived of his car, fell on the ground, the strong-armed Chitrasena rushed towards him and seized him in such a way that it seemed his life itself was taken. And after the Kuru king had been seized, the _Gandharvas_, surrounding Dussasana, who was seated on his car, also took him prisoner. And some _Gandharvas_ seized Vivinsati and Chitrasena, and some Vinda and Anuvinda, while others seized all the ladies of royal household. And the warriors of Duryodhana, who were routed by the _Gandharvas_, joining those who had fled first, approached the Pandavas (who were living in the vicinity). And after Duryodhana had been made captive, the vehicles, the shops, the pavilions, the carriages, and the draught animals, all were made over to the Pandavas for protection. And those soldiers said, 'The mighty-armed son of Dhritarashtra, possessed of great strength and handsome mien, is being taken away captive by the _Gandharvas_! Ye sons of Pritha, follow them! Dussasana, Durvishasa, Durmukha, and Durjaya, are all being led away as captives in chains by the Gandharvas, as also all the ladies of the royal household!' "Crying thus, the followers of Duryodhana, afflicted with grief and melancholy, approached Yudhishthira, desirous of effecting the release of the king. Bhima then answered those old attendants of Duryodhana, who, afflicted with grief and melancholy, were thus soliciting (the aid of Yudhishthira), saying, 'What we should have done with great efforts, arraying ourselves in line of battle, supported by horses and elephants hath, indeed, been done by the _Gandharvas_! They that come hither for other purposes, have been overtaken by consequences they had not foreseen! Indeed, this is the result of the evil counsels of a king who is fond of deceitful play! It hath been heard by us that the foe of a person who is powerless, is overthrown by others. The Gandharvas have, in an extraordinary way illustrated before our eyes the truth of this saying! It seems that there is still fortunately some person in the world who is desirous of doing us good who hath, indeed, taken upon his own shoulders our pleasant load, although we are sitting idly! The wretch had come hither to cast his eyes on us,--himself in prosperity while ourselves are sunk in adversity and emaciated by ascetic austerities and are exposed to wind, cold and heat. They that imitate the behaviour of that sinful and wretched Kaurava, are now beholding his disgrace! He that had instructed Duryodhana to do this, had certainly acted sinfully. That the sons of Kunti are not wicked and sinful, I tell it before you all!' "And while Bhima, the son of Kunti, was speaking thus in a voice of sarcasm, king Yudhishthira told him, 'This is not time for cruel words!'" SECTION CCXLI "Yudhishthira said, 'O child, why dost thou use language such as this, towards the frightened Kurus, who are now in adversity and who have come to us, solicitous of protection! O Vrikodara, disunions and disputes do take place amongst those that are connected in blood. Hostilities such as these do go on. But the honour of the family is never suffered to be interfered with. If any stranger seeketh to insult the honour of a family, they that are good never tolerate such insult coming from the stranger. The wicked-souled king of the Gandharvas knoweth that we are living here from some time. Yet disregarding us, he hath done this deed which is so disagreeable to us! O exalted one, from this forcible seizure of Duryodhana and from this insult to the ladies of our house by a stranger, our family honour is being destroyed. Therefore, ye tigers among men, arise and arm yourselves without delay for rescuing those that have sought our protection and for guarding the honour of our family. Ye tigers among men, let Arjuna and the twins and thyself also that art brave and unvanquished, liberate Duryodhana, who is even now being taken away a captive! Ye foremost of warriors, these blazing cars, furnished with golden flagstaffs and every kind of weapons belonging to Dhritarashtra's sons, are ready here. With Indrasena and other charioteers skilled in arms, for guiding them, ride ye on these everfurnished cars of deep rattle! And riding on these, exert ye with activity for fighting with the Gandharvas to liberate Duryodhana. Even an ordinary Kshatriya (amongst those that are here), would to the height of his power, protect one that hath come hither for refuge! What then, O Vrikodara, shall I say of thee! Entreated for assistance in such words as "_O hasten to my aid_!" Who is there (amongst those standing around me) that is high-souled enough to assist even his foe, beholding him seeking shelter with joined hands? The bestowal of a boon, sovereignty, and the birth of a son are sources of great joy. But, ye sons of Pandu, the liberation of a foe from distress is equal to all the three put together! What can be a source of greater joy to you than that Duryodhana sunk in distress seeketh his very life as depending on the might of your arms? O Vrikodara, if the vow in which I am engaged had been over, there is little doubt that I would myself have run to his aid. Strive thou by all means, O Bharata, to liberate Duryodhana by the arts of conciliation. If, however, the king of the Gandharvas cannot be managed by the arts of conciliation, then must thou try to rescue Suyodhana by lightly skirmishing with the foe. But if the chief of the Gandharvas do not let the Kurus off even then, they must be rescued by crushing the foe by all means. O Vrikodara, this is all I can tell thee now, for my vow hath been begun and is not ended yet!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Ajatasatru, Dhananjaya pledged himself, from respect for these commands of his superior, to liberate the Kauravas. And Arjuna said, 'If the Gandharvas do not set the Dhartarashtras free peacefully, the Earth shall this day drink the blood of the king of the Gandharvas!' And hearing that pledge of the truth-speaking Arjuna, the Kauravas then, O king, regained (the lost) tenor of their minds." SECTION CCXLII Vaisampayana said, "Hearing the words of Yudhishthira, those bulls among men, headed by Bhimasena, rose up with faces beaming in joy. And those mighty warriors, O Bharata, then began to case themselves in impenetrable mail that were besides variegated with pure gold, and armed themselves with celestial weapons of various kinds. And the Pandavas thus cased in mail, and mounted on those chariots furnished with flagstaffs and armed with bows and arrows, looked like blazing fires. And those tigers among warriors, riding upon those well furnished cars drawn by fleet horses, proceeded to that spot without losing a moment. And beholding those mighty warriors--the sons of Pandu--thus proceeding together (for the liberation of Duryodhana), the Kuru army sent forth a loud shout. And soon did those rangers of the sky flushed with victory, and those impetuous warriors, the sons of Pandu, fearlessly encounter each other in that forest. The Gandharvas were flushed with success, and beholding the four brave sons of Pandu coming to battle seated on their cars, they all turned back towards the advancing combatants. And, the dwellers of the Gandhamadana, beholding the Pandavas looking like blazing guardians of the world provoked to ire, stood arrayed in order of battle. And, O Bharata, in accordance with words of king Yudhishthira of great wisdom, the encounter that took place was a skirmish. But when Arjuna--that persecutor of foes--saw that the foolish soldiers of the king of Gandharvas could not be made to understand what was good for them by means of a light skirmish, he addressed those invincible rangers of the skies in a conciliatory tone and said, 'Leave ye my brother king Suyodhana.' Thus addressed by the illustrious son of Pandu, the Gandharvas, laughing aloud, replied unto him saying, 'O child, there is but one in the world whose behests we obey and living under whose rule we pass our days in happiness: O Bharata, we always act as that one only person commandeth us! Besides that celestial chief there is none that can command us!' Thus addressed by the Gandharvas, Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, replied unto them, saying, 'This contact with other people's wives and this hostile encounter with human beings are acts that are both censurable in the king of the Gandharvas and not proper for him. Therefore, leave ye these sons of Dhritarashtra all endued with mighty energy. And liberate ye also these ladies, at the command of king Yudhishthira the just. If, ye Gandharvas, ye do not set the sons of Dhritarashtra free peacefully, I shall certainly rescue Suyodhana (and his party) by exerting my prowess.' And speaking unto them thus, Pritha's son, Dhananjaya, capable of wielding the bow with his left hand also, then rained a shower of sharp pointed sky-ranging shafts upon those rangers of the firmament. Thus attacked, the mighty Gandharvas then encountered the sons of Pandu with a shower of arrows equally thick, and the Pandavas also replied by attacking those dwellers of heaven. And the battle then, O Bharata, that ranged between the active and agile Gandharvas and the impetuous son of Pandu was fierce in the extreme." SECTION CCXLIII Vaisampayana said, "Then those Gandharvas decked in golden garlands and accomplished in celestial weapons, showing their blazing shafts, encountered the Pandavas from every side. And as the sons of Pandu were only four in number and the Gandharvas counted by thousands, the battle that ensued appeared to be extraordinary. And as the cars of Karna and Duryodhana had formerly been broken into a hundred fragments by the Gandharvas, so were the cars of the four heroes attempted to be broken. But those tigers among men began to encounter with their showers of arrows thousands upon thousands of Gandharvas rushing towards them. Those rangers of skies endued with great energy, thus checked on all sides by that arrowy down-pour, succeeded not in even coming near to the sons of Pandu. Then Arjuna whose ire had been provoked, aiming at the angry Gandharvas, prepared to hurl against them his celestial weapons. And in that encounter, the mighty Arjuna, by means of his _Agneya_ weapon, sent ten hundreds of thousands of Gandharvas to the abode of Yama. And that mighty bowman, Bhima, also, that foremost of all warriors in battle, slew, by means of his sharp arrows, Gandharvas by hundreds. And the mighty sons of Madri also, battling with vigour, encountered hundreds of Gandharvas, O king, and slaughtered them all. And as Gandharvas were being thus slaughtered by the mighty warriors with their celestial weapons, they rose up to the skies, taking with them the sons of Dhritarashtra. But Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, beholding them rise up to the skies, surrounded them on every side by a wide net of arrows. And confined within that arrowy net like birds within a cage, they showered in wrath upon Arjuna maces and darts and broad-swords. But Arjuna who was conversant with the most efficacious weapons, soon checked that shower of maces and darts and broad-swords, and in return began to mangle the limbs of the Gandharvas with his crescent-shaped arrows. And heads and legs and arms began to drop down from above resembling a shower of stones. And at that sight, the foe was struck with panic. And as the Gandharvas were being slaughtered by the illustrious son of Pandu, they began to shower from the skies a heavy downpour of shafts upon Arjuna, who was on the surface of the earth. But that chastiser of foes, Arjuna, endued with mighty energy checked that shower of arrows by means of his own weapons and began, in return, to wound them. Then Arjuna of the Kuru race shot his well-known weapons called _Sthunakarna, Indrajala, Saura, Agneya_ and _Saumya_. And the Gandharvas consumed by the fiery weapons of Kunti's son, began to suffer heavily, like the sons of Diti, while being scorched by Sakra's thunder-bolt. And when they attacked Arjuna from above, they were checked by his net of arrows. And while they attacked him from all sides on the surface of the earth, they were checked by his crescent-shaped arrows. And beholding the Gandharvas put in fear by Kunti's son, Chitrasena rushed, O Bharata, at Dhananjaya, armed with a mace. And as the king of the Gandharvas was rushing at Arjuna from above with that mace in hand, the latter cut with his arrows that mace wholly made of iron into seven pieces. And beholding that mace of his cut into many pieces by Arjuna of great activity, with his arrows, Chitrasena, by means of his science, concealed himself from the view of the Pandava and began to fight with him. The heroic Arjuna, however, by means of his own celestial weapons checked all the celestial weapons that were aimed at him by the Gandharvas. And when the chief of the Gandharvas saw that he was checked by the illustrious Arjuna with those weapons of his he entirely disappeared from sight by help of his powers of illusion. And Arjuna, observing that the chief of the Gandharvas was striking at him concealed from sight, attacked his assailant with celestial weapon inspired with proper _Mantras_. And the multiform Dhananjaya filled with wrath, prevented the disappearance of his foe by means of his weapon known by the name of _Sabda-veda_. And assailed with those weapons by the illustrious Arjuna, his dear friend, the king of the Gandharvas, showed himself unto him. And Chitrasena said, 'Behold in me thy friend battling with thee!' And beholding his friend Chitrasena exhausted in the battle, that bull among the sons of Pandu withdrew the weapons he had shot. And the other sons of Pandu beholding Arjuna withdraw his weapons, checked their flying steeds and the impetus of their weapons and withdrew their bows. And Chitrasena and Bhima and Arjuna and the twins enquiring about one another's welfare, sat awhile on their respective cars." SECTION CCXLIV Vaisampayana said, "Then that mighty bowman of blazing splendour, Arjuna, smilingly said unto Chitrasena in the midst of the Gandharva host, 'What purpose dost thou serve, O hero, in punishing the Kauravas? O, why also hath Suyodhana with his wives been thus punished?' "Chitrasena replied, 'O Dhananjaya, without stirring from my own abode I became acquainted with the purpose of the wicked Duryodhana and the wretched Karna in coming hither. The purpose was even this,--knowing that ye are exiles in the forest and suffering great afflictions as if ye had none to take care of you, himself in prosperity, this wretch entertained the desire of beholding you plunged in adversity and misfortune. They came hither for mocking you and the illustrious daughter of Drupada. The lord of the celestials also, having ascertained this purpose of theirs, told me, "Go thou and bring Duryodhana hither in chains along with his counsellors. Dhananjaya also with his brother should always be protected by thee in battle, for he is thy dear friend and disciple." At these words of the lord of the celestials I came hither speedily. This wicked prince hath also been put in chains. I will now proceed to the region of the celestials, whither I will lead this wicked wight at the command of the slayer of Paka!' "Arjuna answered, saying, 'O Chitrasena, if thou wishest to do what is agreeable to me, set Suyodhana free, at the command of king Yudhishthira the just, for he is our brother!' "Chitrasena said, 'This sinful wretch is always full of vanity. He deserveth not to be set free. O Dhananjaya, he hath deceived and wronged both king Yudhishthira the just and Krishna. Yudhishthira the son of Kunti as yet knoweth not the purpose on which the wretch came hither. Let the king, therefore, do what he desires after knowing everything!'" Vaisampayana continued, "After this, all of them went to king Yudhishthira the just. And going unto the king, they represented unto him everything about Duryodhana's conduct. And Ajatasatru, hearing everything that the Gandharvas had said, liberated all the Kauravas and applauded the Gandharvas. And the king said, 'Fortunate it is for us that though gifted with great strength, ye did not yet slay the wicked son of Dhritarashtra along with all counsellors and relatives. This, O sir, hath been an act of great kindness done to me by the Gandharvas. The honour also of my family is saved by liberating this wicked wight. I am glad at seeing you all. Command me what I am to do for you. And having obtained all you wish, return ye soon whence ye came!' "Thus addressed by the intelligent son of Pandu, the Gandharvas became well-pleased and went away with the Apsaras. And the lord of the celestials then, coming to that spot, revived those Gandharvas that had been slain in the encounter with the Kurus, by sprinkling the celestial _Amrita_ over them. And the Pandavas also, having liberated their relatives along with the ladies of the royal household, and having achieved that difficult feat (the defeat of the Gandharvas host) became well-pleased. And those illustrious and mighty warriors worshipped by the Kurus along with their sons and wives, blazed forth in splendour like flaming fires in the sacrificial compound. And Yudhishthira then addressing the liberated Duryodhana in the midst of his brothers, from affection, told him these words: 'O child, never again do such a rash act. O Bharata, a rash wight never cometh by happiness. O son of the Kuru race, pleased be thou with all thy brothers. Go back to thy capital as pleaseth thee, without yielding thyself to despondency or cheerlessness!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus dismissed by the son of Pandu, king Duryodhana then saluted king Yudhishthira the just and overwhelmed with shame, and his heart rent in twain, mechanically set out for his capital, like one destitute of life. And after the Kaurava prince had departed, the brave Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, along with his brothers, was worshipped by the Brahmanas, and surrounded by those Brahmanas endued with the wealth of asceticism, like Sakra himself by the celestials, he began to pass his days happily in the woods of Dwaita." SECTION CCXLV Janamejaya said, "After his defeat and capture by the foe and his subsequent liberation by the illustrious sons of Pandu by force of arms, it seemeth to me that the entry into Hastinapura of the proud, wicked, boastful, vicious, insolent, and wretched Duryodhana, engaged in insulting the sons of Pandu and bragging of his own superiority, must have been exceedingly difficult. Describe to me in detail, O Vaisampayana, the entry into the capital, of that prince overwhelmed with shame and unmanned by grief!" Vaisampayana said, "Dismissed by the king Yudhishthira the just, Dhritarashtra's son Suyodhana, bending his head down in shame and afflicted with grief and melancholy, set out slowly. And the king, accompanied by his four kinds of forces, proceeded towards his city, his heart rent in grief and filled with thoughts of his defeat along the way in a region that abounded in grass and water. The king encamped on a delightful piece of ground as pleased him best, with his elephants and cars and cavalry and infantry stationed all around. And as the king Duryodhana was seated on an elevated bedstead endued with the effulgence of fire, himself looking like the moon under an eclipse, towards the small hours of the morning Karna, approaching him, said, 'Fortunate it is, O son of Gandhari, that thou art alive! Fortunate it is, that we have once more met! By good luck it is that thou hast vanquished the Gandharvas capable of assuming any form at will. And, O son of the Kuru race, it is by good luck alone, that I am enabled to see thy brothers--mighty warriors all--come off victorious from that encounter, having subjugated their foes! As regards myself, assailed by all the Gandharvas, I fled before thy eyes, unable to rally our flying host. Assailed by the foe with all his might, my body mangled with their arrows, I sought safety in flight. This however, O Bharata, seemed to me to be a great marvel that I behold you all come safe and sound in body, with your wives, troops, and vehicles, out of that super-human encounter. O Bharata, there is another man in this world who can achieve what thou, O king, hast achieved in battle to-day with thy brothers.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Karna, king Duryodhana replied unto the ruler of the Angas in a voice choked with tears." SECTION CCXLVI "Duryodhana said, 'O Radheya, thou knowest not what hath happened. Therefore, I do not resent thy words. Thou thinkest the hostile Gandharvas to have been vanquished by me with my own energy. O thou of mighty arms, my brothers, indeed had for a long time, aided by me fought with the Gandharvas. The slaughtered, indeed, on both sides were great. But when those brave Gandharvas, resorting to their many powers of illusion, ascended the skies and began to fight with us thence, our encounter with them ceased to be an equal one. Defeat then was ours and even captivity. And afflicted with sorrow, we along with our attendants and counsellors and children and wives and troops and vehicles were being taken by them through the skies. It was then that some soldiers of ours and some brave officers repaired in grief unto the sons of Pandu--those heroes that never refuse succour to those that ask for it. And having gone to them they said, "Here is king Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, who with his younger brothers and friends and wives is being led away a captive by the Gandharvas along the sky. Blest be ye. Liberate the king along with the women of the royal household! Suffer no insult to be offered unto all the ladies of the Kuru race." And when they had spoken thus, the eldest of Pandu's sons, who is endued with a virtuous soul then conciliated his brothers and commanded them to liberate us. Then those bulls among men, the Pandavas, overtaking the Gandharvas, solicited our release in soft words, although fully able to effect it by force of arms. And when the Gandharvas, addressed in such conciliatory words, refused to set us at liberty, then Arjuna and Bhima and the twins endued with mighty energy, shot showers of arrows at the Gandharvas. Then the Gandharvas, abandoning the fight, fled through the sky, dragging our melancholy selves after them, filled with joy. Then we beheld a network of arrows spread all around by Dhananjaya, who was also shooting celestial weapons upon the foe. And seeing the points of the horizon covered by Arjuna with a thick network of sharp arrows, his friend, the chief of the Gandharvas, showed himself. And Chitrasena and Arjuna, embracing each other, enquired after each other's welfare. And the other sons of Pandu also embraced the chief of the Gandharvas and were embraced by him. And enquiries of courtesy passed between them also. And the brave Gandharvas then abandoning their weapons and mail mingled in a friendly spirit with the Pandavas. And Chitrasena and Dhananjaya worshipped each other with regard.'" SECTION CCXLVII "Duryodhana said, 'That slayer of hostile heroes, Arjuna, then approaching Chitrasena, smilingly addressed him in these manly words: "O hero, O foremost of the Gandharvas, it behoveth thee to set my brothers at liberty. They are incapable of being insulted as long as the sons of Pandu are alive." Thus addressed by the illustrious son of Pandu, the chief of the Gandharvas, O Karna, disclosed unto the Pandavas the object we had in view in proceeding to that place, viz., that we came there for casting our eyes on the sons of Pandu with their wife, all plunged in misery. And while the Gandharva was disclosing those counsels of ours, overwhelmed with shame I desired the earth to yield me a crevice, so that I might disappear there and then. The Gandharvas then, accompanied by the Pandavas, went to Yudhishthira, and, disclosing unto him also counsels, made us over, bound as we were, to him. Alas, what greater sorrow could be mine than that I should thus be offered as a tribute unto Yudhishthira, in the very sight of the women of our household, myself in chains and plunged in misery, and under the absolute control of my enemies. Alas, they, who have ever been persecuted by me, they unto whom I have ever been a foe released me from captivity, and wretch that I am, I am indebted to them for my life. If, O hero, I had met with my death in that great battle, that would have been far better than that I should have obtained my life in this way. If I had been slain by the Gandharvas, my fame would have spread over the whole earth, and I should have obtained auspicious regions of eternal bliss in the heaven of Indra. Listen to me therefore, ye bulls among men, as to what I intend to do now. I will stay here forgoing all food, while ye all return home. Let all my brothers also go to Hastinapura. Let all our friends, including Karna, and all our relatives headed by Dussasana, return now to the capital. Insulted by the foe, I myself will not repair thither. I who had before wrested from the foe his respect, I who had always enhanced the respect of my friends, have now become a source of sorrow unto friends and of joy unto enemies. What shall I now say unto the king, going to the city named after the elephant? What will Bhishma and Drona, Kripa, and Drona's son, Vidura and Sanjaya, Vahuka and Somadatta and other revered seniors,--what will the principal men of the other orders and men of independent professions, say to me and what shall I say unto them in reply? Having hitherto stayed over the heads of my enemies, having hitherto trod upon their breasts, I have fallen away from my position. How shall I ever speak with them? Insolent men having obtained prosperity and knowledge and affluence, are seldom blest for any length of time like myself puffed up with vanity. Alas, led by folly I have done a highly improper and wicked act, for which, fool that I am, I have fallen into such distress. Therefore, will I perish by starving, life having become insupportable to me. Relieved from distress by the foe, what man of spirit is there who can drag on his existence? Proud as I am, shorn of manliness, the foe hath laughed at me, for the Pandavas possessed of prowess have looked at me plunged in misery!'" Vaisampayana continued, "While giving way to such reflections Duryodhana spoke unto Dussasana thus: 'O Dussasana, listen to these words of mine, O thou of the Bharata race! Accepting this installation that I offer thee, be thou king in my place. Rule thou the wide earth protected by Karna and Suvala's sons. Like Indra himself looking after the Maruts, cherish thou thy brothers in such a way that they may all confide in thee. Let thy friends and relatives depend on thee like the gods depending on him of a hundred sacrifices. Always shouldst thou bestow pensions on Brahmanas, without idleness, and be thou ever the refuge of thy friends and relatives. Like Vishnu looking after the celestials, thou shouldst always look after all consanguineous relatives. Thou shouldst also ever cherish thy superiors. Go, rule thou the earth gladdening thy friends and reproving thy foes.' And clasping his neck, Duryodhana said, 'Go!' Hearing these words of his, Dussasana in perfect cheerlessness and overwhelmed with great sorrow, his voice choked in tears, said, with joined hands and bending his head unto his eldest brother, 'Relent!' And saying this he fell down on earth with heavy heart. And afflicted with grief that tiger among men, shedding his tears on the feet of his brother again said, 'This will never be! The earth may split, the vault of heaven may break in pieces, the sun may cast off his splendour, the moon may abandon his coolness, the wind may forsake its speed, the Himavat may be moved from its site, the waters of the ocean may dry up, and fire may abandon its heat, yet I, O king, may never rule the earth without thee.' And Dussasana repeatedly said, 'Relent, O king! Thou alone shall be king in our race for a hundred years.' And having spoken thus unto the king, Dussasana began to weep melodiously catching, O Bharata, the feet of his eldest brother deserving of worship from him. "And beholding Dussasana and Duryodhana thus weeping, Karna in great grief approached them both and said, 'Ye Kuru princes, why do you thus yield to sorrow like ordinary men, from senselessness? Mere weeping can never ease a sorrowing man's grief. When weeping can never remove one's griefs, what do you gain by thus giving way to sorrow? Summon patience to your aid to not gladden the foe by such conduct. O king, the Pandavas only did their duty in liberating thee. They that reside in the dominions of the king, should always do what is agreeable to the king. Protected by thee, the Pandavas are residing happily in thy dominion. It behoveth thee not to indulge in such sorrow like an ordinary person. Behold, thy uterine brothers are all sad and cheerless at seeing thee resolved to put an end to thy life by forgoing food. Blest be thou! Rise up and come to thy city and console these thy uterine brothers.'" SECTION CCXLVIII "Karna continued, 'O king, this conduct of thine to-day appeareth to be childish. O hero, O slayer of foes, what is to be wondered at in this that the Pandavas liberated thee when thou wert vanquished by the foe? O son of the Kuru race, those that reside in the territories of the king, especially those (amongst them) that lead the profession of arms, should always do what is agreeable to the king whether they happen to be known to their monarch or unknown to him. It happened often that foremost men who crush the ranks of the hostile host, are vanquished by them, and are rescued by their own troops. They that leading the profession of arms, reside in the king's realm should always combine and exert themselves to the best of their power, for the king. If, therefore, O king, the Pandavas, who live in the territories, have liberated thee, what is there to be regretted at in this? That the Pandavas, O best of kings, did not follow thee when thou didst march forth to battle at the head of thy troops, has been an improper act on their part. They had before this come under thy power, becoming thy slaves. They are, therefore, bound to aid thee now, being endued with courage and might and incapable of turning away from the field of battle. Thou art enjoying all the rich possessions of the Pandavas. Behold them yet alive, O king! They have not resolved to die, forgoing all food. Blest be thou! Rise up, O king! It behoveth thee not to indulge in great sorrow long. O king, it is the certain duty of those that reside in the king's realm to do what is agreeable to the king. Where should the regret be in all this? If thou, O king, dost not act according to my words I shall stay here employed in reverentially serving thy feet. O bull among men, I do not desire to live deprived of thy company. O king, if thou resolvest to slay thyself by forgoing food, thou wilt simply be an object of laughter with other kings.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by Karna, king Duryodhana, firmly resolved to leave the world, desired not to rise from where he sat." SECTION CCXLIX Vaisampayana said, "Beholding king Duryodhana, incapable of putting up with an insult, seated with the resolution of giving up life by forgoing food, Sakuni, the son of Suvala, said these words to comfort him. Sakuni said, 'O son of the Kuru race, you have just heard what Karna hath said. His words are, indeed fraught with wisdom. Why wouldst thou abandoning from foolishness the high prosperity that I won for thee, cast off thy life today, O king, yielding to silliness? It seemeth to me to-day that thou hast never waited upon the old. He that cannot control sudden accession of joy or grief, is lost even though he may have obtained prosperity, like an unburnt earthen vessel in water. That king who is entirely destitute of courage, who hath no spark of manliness, who is the slave of procrastination, who always acts with indiscretion, who is addicted to sensual pleasures, is seldom respected by his subjects. Benefited as thou has been, whence is this unreasonable grief of thine? Do not undo this graceful act done by the sons of Pritha, by indulging in such grief. When thou shouldst joy and reward the Pandavas, thou art grieving, O king? Indeed, this behaviour of thine is inconsistent. Be cheerful, do not cast away thy life; but remember with a pleased heart the good they have done thee. Give back unto the sons of Pritha their kingdom, and win thou both virtue and renown by such conduct. By acting in this way, thou mayst be grateful. Establish brotherly relations with the Pandavas by being friends, and give them their paternal kingdom, for then thou wilt be happy!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Sakuni, and seeing the brave Dussasana lying prostrate before him unmanned by fraternal love, the king raised Dussasana and, clasping him in his well round arms, smelt his head from affection. And hearing these words of Karna and Sauvala, king Duryodhana lost heart more than ever, and he was overwhelmed with shame and utter despair overtook his soul. And hearing all that his friends said, he answered with sorrow, 'I have nothing more to do with virtue, wealth, friendship, affluence, sovereignty, and enjoyments. Do not obstruct my purpose, but leave me all of you. I am firmly resolved to cast away my life by forgoing food. Return to the city, and treat my superiors there respectfully.' "Thus addressed by him, they replied unto that royal grinder of foes, saying, 'O monarch, the course that is thine, is also ours, O Bharata. How can we enter the city without thee?'" Vaisampayana continued, "Though addressed in all manner of ways by his friends and counsellors and brothers and relatives, the king wavered not from his purpose. And the son of Dhritarashtra in accordance with his purpose spread _Kusa_ grass on the earth, and purifying himself by touching water, sat down upon that spot. And clad in rags and _Kusa_ grass he set himself to observe the highest vow. And stopping all speech, that tiger among kings, moved by the desire of going to heaven, began to pray and worship internally suspending all external intercourse. "Meanwhile the fierce _Daityas_ and the _Danavas_ who had been defeated of old by the celestials and had been dwelling in the nether regions having ascertained Duryodhana's purpose and knowing that if the king died their party would be weakened, commenced a sacrifice with fire for summoning Duryodhana to their presence. And _mantra_ knowing persons then commenced with the help of formulae declared by Brihaspati and Usanas, those rites that are indicated in the _Atharva Veda_ and the _Upanishads_ and which are capable of being achieved by _mantras_ and prayers. And Brahmins of rigid vows, well-versed in the _Vedas_ and the branches, began, with rapt soul, to pour libations of clarified butter and milk into the fire, uttering _mantras_. And after those rites were ended, a strange goddess, O king, with mouth wide open, arose (from the sacrificial fire), saying, 'What am I to do?' And the Daityas with well-pleased hearts, commanded her, saying, 'Bring thou hither the royal son of Dhritarashtra, who is even now observing the vow of starvation for getting rid of his life.' Thus commanded, she went away saying, 'So be it.' And she went in the twinkling of an eye to that spot where Suyodhana was. And taking up the king back to the nether regions, and having brought him thus in a moment, she apprised the _Danavas_ of it. And the _Danavas_ beholding the king brought into their midst in the night, united together, and all of them with well-pleased hearts and eyes expanded in delight addressed these flattering words to Duryodhana." SECTION CCL "The Danavas said, 'O Suyodhana, O great king! O perpetuator of the race of Bharata, thou art ever surrounded by heroes and illustrious men. Why hast thou, then, undertaken to do such a rash act as the vow of starvation? The suicide ever sinketh into hell and becometh the subject of calumnious speech. Nor do intelligent persons like thee ever set their hands to acts that are sinful and opposed to their best interests and striking at the very root of their purposes. Restrain this resolve of thine, therefore, O king, which is destructive of morality, profit, and happiness, of fame, prowess, and energy, and which enhanceth the joy of foes. O exalted king, know the truth, the celestial origin of thy soul, and the maker of thy body, and then summon thou patience to thy aid. In days of old, O king, we have obtained thee, by ascetic austerities from Maheswara. The upper part of thy body is wholly made of an assemblage of _Vajras_, and is, therefore, invulnerable to weapons of every description, O sinless one. The lower part of thy body, capable of captivating the female heart by its comeliness was made of flowers by the goddess herself--the wife of Mahadeva. Thy body is thus, O best of kings, the creation of Maheswara himself and his goddess. Therefore, O tiger among kings, thou art of celestial origin, not human. Other brave Kshatriyas of mighty energy headed by Bhagadatta, and all acquainted with celestial weapons, will slay thy foes. Therefore, let this grief of thine cease. Thou hast no cause for fear. For aiding thee, many heroic _Danavas_ have been born on the earth. Other Asuras will also possess Bhishma and Drona and Karna and others. Possessed by those Asuras, these heroes will cast away their kindness and fight with thy foes. Indeed, when the _Danavas_ will enter their heart and possess them completely, flinging all affections to a distance, becoming hard-hearted, these warriors will strike every body opposed to them in battle without sparing sons, brothers, fathers, friends, disciples, relatives, even children and old men. Blinded by ignorance and wrath, and impelled by that destiny which hath been ordained by the Creator, these tigers among men, with hearts steeped in sin, will, O thou foremost of the Kurus, depopulate the earth by hurling and shooting all kinds of weapons, with great manliness and strength and always addressing one another boastfully with words such as these, "_Thou shall not escape from me today with life_." And these illustrious sons of Pandu also, five in number, will fight with these. And, endued with mighty strength and favoured by Fate, they will compass the destruction of these. And, O king, many _Daityas_ and _Rakshasas_ also that have been born in the Kshatriya order, will fight with great prowess in the battle with thy foes, using maces and clubs and lances and various weapons of a superior kind. And, O hero, with respect to the fear that is in thy heart rising from Arjuna, we have already settled the means for slaying Arjuna. The soul of the slain Naraka hath assumed the form of Karna. Recollecting his former hostility he will encounter both Kesava and Arjuna. And that mighty warrior and foremost of smiters, proud of his prowess will vanquish Arjuna in battle as also all thy enemies. The wielder of the thunder-bolt, knowing all this, and desirous of saving Arjuna, will in disguise take away from Karna his ear-rings and coat of mail. We also have for that reason appointed hundreds upon hundreds and thousands upon thousands of _Daityas_ and _Rakshasas_, viz., those that are known by the name of _Samsaptakas_.[43] These celebrated warriors will slay the heroic Arjuna. Therefore, grieve not, O king. Thou wilt rule the whole earth, O monarch, without a rival. Do not yield to despondency. Conduct such as this does not suit thee. O thou of the Kuru race, if thou diest, our party becometh weak. Go thou, O hero, and let not thy mind be directed to any other course of action. Thou art ever our refuge as, indeed, the Pandavas are the refuge of the gods.'" [43] Lit, Soldiers that have sworn to conquer or die. A full Akshauhini of these soldiers was owned by Krishna, who gave them to Duryodhana to fight for him. The story of Krishna's offering to Duryodhana the choice between these soldiers on the one side, and himself sworn not to fight but only to aid with his counsels on the other, is given in full in the Udyoga Parva. Duryodhana, from folly, accepted the former, who were all slain by Arjuna. Vaisampayana continued, "Having addressed him thus, those _Daityas_ embraced that elephant among kings, and those bulls among the _Danavas_ cheered that irrepressible one like a son. And, O Bharata, pacifying his mind by soft speech, they permitted him to depart, saying, 'Go and attain victory!' And when they had given leave to the mighty-armed one, that very goddess carried him back to the spot where he had sat down, intent upon putting an end to his life. And having set that hero down and paid him homage, the goddess vanished, taking the king's permission. O Bharata, when she had gone, king Duryodhana considered all (that had happened) as a dream. He then thought within himself, 'I shall defeat the Pandavas in battle.' And Suyodhana thought that Karna and the Samsaptaka army were both able (to destroy) and intent upon destroying that slayer of foes, Partha. Thus, O bull of the Bharata race, the hope was strengthened of the wicked minded son of Dhritarashtra, of conquering the Pandavas. And Karna also, his soul and faculties possessed by the inmost soul of Naraka, had at that time cruelly determined to slay Arjuna. And those heroes--the Samsaptakas also--having their sense possessed by the _Rakshasas_, and influenced by the qualities of emotion and darkness, were desirous of slaying Phalguna. And, O king, others with Bhishma, Drona, and Kripa at their head, having their faculties influenced by the Danavas, were not so affectionate towards the sons of Pandu as they had been. But king Suyodhana did not tell any one of this. "When the night passed away, Karna, that offspring of the Sun, with joined hands, smilingly addressed these wise words to king Duryodhana, 'No dead man conquereth his foes: it is when he is alive that he can see his good. Where is the good of the dead person; and, O Kauravya, where is his victory? Therefore, this is no time for grief, or fear or death.' And having, with his arms embraced that mighty-armed one, he further said, 'Rise up, O king! Why dost thou lie down? Why dost thou grieve, O slayer of foes? Having afflicted thy enemies by thy prowess, why dost thou wish for death? Or (perhaps) fear hath possessed thee at the sight of Arjuna's prowess. I truly promise unto thee that I will slay Arjuna in battle. O lord of men, I swear by my weapon that when the three and ten years shall have passed away, I will bring the sons of Pritha under thy subjection.' Thus addressed by Karna, and remembering the words of the _Daityas_ and supplications made by them (his brothers), Suyodhana rose up. And having heard those words of the _Daityas_ that tiger among men, with a firm resolve in his heart arrayed his army, abounding in horses and elephants and cars and infantry. And, O monarch, immensely swarming with white umbrellas, and pennons, and white _Chamaras_, and cars, and elephants, and foot-soldiers, that mighty army, as it moved like the waters of the Ganga, looked graceful like the firmament, at a season when the clouds have dispersed and the signs of autumn have been but partially developed. And, O foremost of kings, eulogised like a monarch by the best of the Brahmanas blessing with victory, that lord of men Suyodhana, Dhritarashtra's son, receiving honours paid with innumerable joined palms, and flaming in exceeding splendour, went in the front, accompanied by Karna, and that gambler, the son of Suvala. And all his brothers with Dussasana at their head, and Bhurisrava, and Somadatta, and the mighty king Vahlika, followed that lion among kings on his way, with cars of various forms, and horses, and the best of elephants. And, O prince among monarchs, in a short time, those perpetuators of the Kuru race entered their own city." SECTION CCLI Janamejaya said, "When the high-souled sons of Pritha were living in the forest, what did those foremost of men and mighty archers--the sons of Dhritarashtra--do? And what did the offspring of the Sun, Karna, and the mighty Sakuni, and Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa do? It behoveth thee to relate this unto me." Vaisampayana said, "When, O mighty king, in this manner the Pandavas had gone, leaving Suyodhana, and when, having been liberated by Pandu's sons, he had come to Hastinapura, Bhishma said these words to the son of Dhritarashtra, 'O child, I had told thee before, when thou wert intent upon going to the hermitage that thy journey did not please me. But thou didst do so. And as a consequence, O hero, wert thou forcibly taken captive by the enemy, and wert delivered by the Pandavas versed in morality. Yet art thou not ashamed. Even in the presence of thee, O son of Gandhari, together with thy army, did the Suta's son, struck with panic, fly from the battle of the Gandharvas, O king. And, O foremost of kings, O son of the monarch! while thou with thy army wert crying distressfully, thou didst witness the prowess of the high-souled Pandavas, and also, O mighty-armed one, of the wicked son of the Suta, Karna. O best of kings, whether in the science of arms, or heroism, or morality, Karna, O thou devoted to virtue, is not a fourth part of the Pandavas. Therefore, for the welfare of this race, the conclusion of peace is, I think, desirable with the high-souled Pandavas.' "Having been thus addressed by Bhishma, Dhritarashtra's son the king, laughed a good deal, and then suddenly sailed out with the son of Suvala. Thereupon, knowing that he was gone, those mighty bowmen with Karna, and Dussasana at their head, followed the highly powerful son of Dhritarashtra. And seeing them gone, Bhishma, the grandfather of the Kurus, hung down his head from shame, and then, O king, went to his own quarters. And, O mighty monarch, when Bhishma had left, that lord of men, Dhritarashtra's son came there again, and began to consult with his counsellors, 'What is it that is good for me? What remaineth to be done? And how we can most effectively bring about the good we shall discuss to-day.' Karna said, 'O Kuru's son, Duryodhana, do thou lay to heart the words that I say. Bhishma always blameth us, and praiseth the Pandavas. And from the ill-will he beareth towards thee, he hateth me also. And, O lord of men, in thy presence he ever crieth me down. I shall never, O Bharata, bear these words that Bhishma had said in thy presence in relation to this matter, extolling the Pandavas, and censuring thee, O represser of foes! Do thou, O king, enjoin on me, together with servants, forces, and cars. I shall, O monarch, conquer the earth furnished with mountains and woods and forests. The earth had been conquered by the four powerful Pandavas. I shall, without doubt, conquer it for thee single-handed. Let that wretch of the Kuru race, the exceedingly wicked-minded Bhishma, see it,--he who vilifies those that do not deserve censure, and praises those that should not be praised. Let him this day witness my might, and blame himself. Do thou, O king, command me. Victory shall surely be thine. By my weapon, O monarch, I swear this before thee.' "O king, O bull of the Bharata race, hearing those words of Karna, that lord of men, experiencing the highest delight, spoke unto Karna, saying, 'I am blessed. I have been favoured by thee,--since thou, endued with great strength, art ever intent on my welfare. My life hath borne fruit, to-day. As thou, O hero, intendest to subdue all our enemies, repair thou. May good betide thee! Do thou command me (what I am to do).' O subduer of foes, having been thus addressed by Dhritarashtra's intelligent son, Karna ordered all the necessaries for the excursion. And on an auspicious lunar day, at an auspicious moment, and under the influence of a star presided over by an auspicious deity, that mighty bowman, having been honoured by twice-born ones, and been bathed with auspicious and holy substances and also worshipped by speech set out, filling with the rattle of his car the three worlds, with their mobile and immobile objects." SECTION CCLII Vaisampayana continued, "Then, O bull among the Bharatas, that mighty bowman, Karna, surrounded by a large army, besieged the beautiful city of Drupada. And he, after a hard conflict, brought the hero under subjection, and, O best of monarchs, made Drupada contribute silver and gold and gems, and also pay tribute. And, O foremost of kings, having subdued him, (Karna) brought under subjection those princes that were under him (Drupada) and made them pay tribute. Then going to the north, he subdued the sovereigns (of that quarter) and having effected the defeat of Bhagadatta, Radha's son ascended that mighty mountain Himavat, all along fighting his foes. And ranging all sides, he conquered and brought under subjection all the kings inhabiting the Himavat, and made them pay dues. Then descending from the mountain and rushing to the east, he reduced the Angas, and the Bangas, and the Kalingas, and the Mandikas, and the Magadhas, the Karkakhandas; and also included with them the Avasiras, Yodhyas, and the Ahikshatras. Having (thus) conquered the eastern quarter Karna then presented himself before Batsa-bhumi. And having taken Batsa-bhumi, he reduced Kevali, and Mrittikavati, and Mohana and Patrana, and Tripura, and Kosala,--and compelled all these to pay tribute. Then going to the south, Karna vanquished the mighty charioteers (of that quarter) and in Dakshinatya, the Suta's son entered into conflict with Rukmi. After having fought dreadfully, Rukmi spake to the Suta's son saying, 'O foremost of monarchs, I have been pleased with thy might and prowess. I shall not do thee wrong: I have only fulfilled the vow of a Kshatriya. Gladly will I give thee as many gold coins as thou desirest.' Having met with Rukmi, Karna repaired to Pandya and the mountain, Sri. And by fighting, he made Karala, king Nila, Venudari's son, and other best of kings living in the southern direction pay tribute. Then going to Sisupala's son, the son of the Suta defeated him and that highly powerful one also brought under his sway all the neighbouring rulers. And, O bull of the Bharata race, having subjugated the Avantis and concluded peace with them, and having met with the Vrishnis, he conquered the west. And, having come to the quarter of Varuna, he made all the Yavana and Varvara kings pay tribute. And, having conquered the entire earth--east, west, north and south--that hero without any aid brought under subjection all the nations of the Mlechchhas, the mountaineers, the Bhadras, the Rohitakas, the Agneyas and the Malavas. And, having conquered the mighty charioteers, headed by the Nagnajitas, the Suta's son brought the _Sasakas_ and the _Yavanas_ under his sway. Having thus conquered and brought under his subjection the world, the mighty charioteer and tiger among men came (back) to Hastinapura. That lord of men, Dhritarashtra's son, accompanied by his father and brothers and friends, came to that mighty bowman, who had arrived, and duly paid homage unto Karna crowned with martial merit. And the king proclaimed his feats, saying, 'What I have not received from either Bhishma, or Drona, or Kripa, or Vahlika, I have received from thee. May good betide thee! What need of speaking at length! Hear my words, O Karna! In thee, O chief of men, I have my refuge. O mighty-armed one, O tiger among men, without doubt all the Pandavas and the other kings crowned with prosperity, come not to a sixteenth part of thee. Do thou, O mighty bowman, O Karna, see Dhritarashtra, and the illustrious Gandhari, as the bearer of the thunderbolt did Aditi.' "Then, O king, there arose in the city of Hastinapura a clamour, and sounds of _Oh!_ and _Alas!_ and, O lord of men, some of the kings praised him (Karna), while others censured him, while others, again, remained silent. Having thus, O foremost of monarchs, in a short time conquered this earth furnished with mountains and forests and skies, and with oceans, and fields, and filled with high and low tracts, and cities, and replete also with islands, O lord of earth, and brought the monarchs under subjection,--and having gained imperishable wealth, the Suta's son appeared before the king. Then, O represser of foes, entering into the interior of the palace that hero saw Dhritarashtra with Gandhari, O tiger among men, that one conversant with morality took hold of his feet even like a son. And Dhritarashtra embraced him affectionately, and then dismissed him. Ever since that time, O monarch, O Bharata, king Duryodhana and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, thought that Pritha's sons had already been defeated in battle by Karna." SECTION CCLIII Vaisampayana continued, "O king, O lord of men, that slayer of hostile heroes, the Suta's son, said these words to Duryodhana, 'O Kaurava Duryodhana, do thou lay unto thy heart the words that I shall tell thee; and, O represser of foes, after having heard my words, it behoveth thee to act accordingly every way. Now, O best of monarchs, O hero, hath the earth been rid of foes. Do thou rule her even like the mighty-minded Sakra himself, having his foes destroyed.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having been thus addressed by Karna, the king again spake unto him, saying, 'O bull among men, nothing whatever is unattainable to him who hath thee for refuge, and to whom thou art attached and on whose welfare thou art entirely intent. Now, I have a purpose, which do thou truly listen to. Having beheld that foremost of sacrifices, the mighty _Rajasuya_, performed by the Pandavas, a desire hath sprung up in me (to celebrate the same). Do thou, O Suta's son, fulfil this desire of mine.' Thus addressed, Karna spake thus unto the king, 'Now that all the rulers of the earth have been brought under thy subjection, do thou summon the principal Brahmanas, and, O best of Kurus, duly procure the articles required for the sacrifice. And, O represser of foes, let Ritwijas as prescribed, and versed in the Vedas, celebrate thy rites according to the ordinance, O king. And, O bull of the Bharata race, let thy great sacrifice also, abounding in meats and drinks, and grand with parts, commence.' "O king, having been thus addressed by Karna, Dhritarashtra's son summoned the priest, and spake unto him these words, 'Do thou duly and in proper order celebrate for me that best of sacrifices, the _Rajasuya_ furnished with excellent _Dakshinas_.' Thus accosted, that best of Brahmanas spake unto the king, saying, 'O foremost of the Kauravas, while Yudhishthira is living, that best of sacrifices cannot be performed in thy family, O Prince of kings! Further, O monarch, thy father Dhritarashtra, endued with long life, liveth. For this reason also, O best of kings, this sacrifice cannot be undertaken by thee. There is, O lord, another great sacrifice, resembling the Rajasuya. Do thou, O foremost of kings, celebrate that sacrifice. Listen to these words of mine. All these rulers of the earth, who have, O king, become tributary to thee, will pay thee tribute in gold, both pure and impure. Of that gold, do thou, O best of monarchs, now make the (sacrificial) plough, and do thou, O Bharata, plough the sacrificial compound with it. At that spot, let there commence, O foremost of kings, with due rites, and without any disturbance the sacrifice, sanctified with _mantras_ abounding in edibles. The name of that sacrifice worthy of virtuous persons, is Vaishnava. No person save the ancient Vishnu hath performed it before. This mighty sacrifice vies with that best of sacrifices--the _Rajasuya_ itself. And, further, it liketh us--and it is also for thy welfare (to celebrate it). And, moreover, it is capable of being celebrated without any disturbance. (By undertaking this), thy desire will be fufilled.' "Having been thus addressed by those Brahmanas, Dhritarashtra's son, the king, spake these words to Karna, his brothers and the son of Suvala, 'Beyond doubt, the words of the Brahmanas are entirely liked by me. If they are relished by you also, express it without delay.' Thus appealed, they all said unto the king, 'So be it.' Then the king one by one appointed persons to their respective tasks; and desired all the artisans to construct the (sacrificial) plough. And, O best of kings, all that had been commanded to be done, was gradually executed." SECTION CCLIV Vaisampayana continued, "Then all the artisans, the principal counsellors, and the highly wise Vidura said unto Dhritarashtra's son, 'All the preparations for the excellent sacrifice have been made, O king; and the time also hath come, O Bharata. And the exceedingly precious golden plough hath been constructed.' Hearing this, O monarch, that best of kings, Dhritarashtra's son commanded that prince among sacrifices to be commenced. Then commenced that sacrifice sanctified by _mantras_, and abounding in edibles, and the son of Gandhari was duly initiated according to the ordinance. And Dhritarashtra, and the illustrious Vidura, and Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa, and Karna, and the celebrated Gandhari experienced great delight. And, O foremost of kings, Duryodhana despatched swift messengers to invite the princes and the Brahmanas. And mounting fleet vehicles they went to the (respective) directions assigned to them. Then to a certain messenger on the point of setting out, Dussasana said, 'Go thou speedily to the woods of _Dwaita_; and in that forest duly invite the Brahmanas and those wicked persons, the Pandavas.' Thereupon, he repaired thither, and bowing down to all the Pandavas, said, 'Having acquired immense wealth by his native prowess, that best of kings and foremost of Kurus, Duryodhana, O monarch, is celebrating a sacrifice. Thither are going from various directions the kings and the Brahmanas. O king, I have been sent by the high-souled Kaurava. That king and lord of men, Dhritarashtra's son, invites you. It behoveth you, therefore, to witness the delightful sacrifice of that monarch.' "Hearing these words of the messenger, that tiger among kings, the royal Yudhishthira, said, 'By good luck it is that that enhancer of the glory of his ancestors, king Suyodhana is celebrating this best of sacrifices. We should certainly repair thither; but we cannot do now; for till (the completion of) the thirteenth year, we shall have to observe our vow.' Hearing this speech of Yudhishthira the just, Bhima said these words, 'Then will king Yudhishthira the just go thither, when he will cast him (Duryodhana) into the fire kindled by weapons. Do thou say unto Suyodhana. "_When after the expiration of the thirteenth year, that lord of men, the Pandava, will, in the sacrifice of battle, pour upon the Dhritarashtras, the clarified butter of his ire, then will I come!_"' But the other Pandavas, O king, did not say anything unpleasant. The messenger (on his return) related unto Dhritarashtra's son all as it had fallen out. Then there came to the city of Dhritarashtra many foremost of men, lords of various countries, and highly virtuous Brahmanas. And duly received in order according to the ordinance, those lords of men experienced great delight and were all well-pleased. And that foremost among monarchs--Dhritarashtra--surrounded by all the Kauravas, experienced the height of joy, and spake unto Vidura, saying, 'Do thou, O Kshatta, speedily so act that all persons in the sacrificial compound may be served with food, be refreshed and satisfied.' Thereupon, O represser of foes, assenting to that order, the learned Vidura versed in morality, cheerfully entertained all the orders in proper measure with meat and beverages to eat and drink, and fragrant garland and various kinds of attire. And having constructed pavilions (for their accommodation), that hero and foremost of kings, duly entertained the princes and the Brahmanas by thousands, and also bestowing upon them wealth of various kinds, bade them farewell. And having dismissed all the kings, he entered Hastinapura, surrounded by his brothers, and in company with Karna and Suvala's son." SECTION CCLV Vaisampayana said, "While, O great king, Duryodhana was entering (the city), the panegyrists eulogized the prince of unfailing prowess. And others also eulogized that mighty bowman and foremost of kings. And sprinkling over him fried paddy and sandal paste the citizens said, 'By good luck it is, O king, that thy sacrifice hath been completed without obstruction.' And some, more reckless of speech, that were present there, said unto that lord of the earth, 'Surely this thy sacrifice cannot be compared with Yudhishthira's: nor doth this come up to a sixteenth part of that (sacrifice).' Thus spake unto that king some that were reckless of consequences. His friends, however, said, 'This sacrifice of thine hath surpassed all others. Yayati and Nahusha, and Mandhata and Bharata, having been sanctified by celebrating such a sacrifice, have all gone to heaven.' Hearing such agreeable words from his friends, that monarch, O bull of the Bharata's race, well-pleased, entered the city and finally his own abode. Then, O king, worshipping the feet of his father and mother and of others headed by Bhishma, Drona and Kripa, and of the wise Vidura, and worshipped in turn by his younger brothers, that delighter of brothers sat down upon an excellent seat, surrounded by the latter. And the Suta's son, rising up, said, 'By good luck it is, O foremost of the Bharata race, that this mighty sacrifice of thine hath been brought to a close. When, however, the sons of Pritha shall have been slain in battle and thou wilt have completed the _Rajasuya_ sacrifice, once again, O lord of men, shall I honour thee thus.' Then that mighty king, the illustrious son of Dhritarashtra, replied unto him, 'Truly hath this been spoken by thee. When, O foremost of men, the wicked-minded Pandavas have been slain, and when also the grand _Rajasuya_ hath been celebrated by me, then thou shalt again, O hero, honour me thus.' And having said this, O Bharata, the Kaurava embraced Karna, and began, O mighty king, to think of the _Rajasuya_, that foremost of sacrifices. And that best of kings also addressed the Kurus around him, saying, 'When shall I, ye Kauravas, having slain all the Pandavas, celebrate that costly and foremost of sacrifices, the _Rajasuya_.' Then spake Karna unto him, saying, 'Hear me, O elephant among kings! So long as I do not slay Arjuna, I shall not allow any one to wash my feet, nor shall I taste meat. And I shall observe the _Asura_ vow[44] and whoever may solicit me (for any thing), I never shall say, "_I have it not_."' When Karna had thus vowed to slay Phalguna in battle, those mighty charioteers and bowmen, the sons of Dhritarashtra, sent up a loud cheer; and Dhritarashtra's sons thought that the Pandavas had already been conquered. Then that chief of kings, the graceful Duryodhana, leaving those bulls among men, entered his apartment, like the lord Kuvera entering the garden of Chitraratha. And all those mighty bowmen also, O Bharata, went to their respective quarters. [44] The vow of the Asuras was (according to the Burdwan Pundits) never to drink wine. It is more rational to suppose that Karna swears to give up the refined manners and practices of the Arvas and adopt those of the Asuras till the consummation of the cherished desire. "Meanwhile those mighty bowmen, the Pandavas, excited by the words the messenger had spoken, became anxious, and they did not (from that time) experience the least happiness. Intelligence, further, O foremost of kings, had been brought by spies regarding the vow of the Suta's son to slay Vijaya. Hearing this, O lord of men, Dharma's son became exceedingly anxious. And considering Karna of the impenetrable mail to be of wonderful prowess, and remembering all their woes, he knew no peace. And that high-souled one filled with anxiety, made up his mind to abandon the woods about _Dwaitavana_ abounding with ferocious animals. "Meanwhile the royal son of Dhritarashtra began to rule the earth, along with his heroic brothers as also with Bhishma and Drona and Kripa. And with the assistance of the Suta's son crowned with martial glory, Duryodhana remained ever intent on the welfare of the rulers of the earth, and he worshipped the foremost of Brahmanas by celebrating sacrifices with profuse gifts. And that hero and subduer of foes, O king, was engaged in doing good to his brothers, concluding for certain in his mind that giving and enjoying are the only use of riches." SECTION CCLVI Janamejaya said, "After having delivered Duryodhana, what did the mighty sons of Pandu do in that forest? It behoveth thee to tell me this." Vaisampayana said, "Once on a time, as Yudhishthira lay down at night in the _Dwaita_ woods, some deer, with accents choked in tears, presented themselves before him in his dreams. To them standing with joined hands, their bodies trembling all over that foremost of monarchs said, 'Tell me what ye wish to say. Who are ye? And what do ye desire?' Thus accosted by Kunti's son--the illustrious Pandava, those deer, the remnant of those that had been slaughtered, replied unto him, saying, 'We are, O Bharata, those deer that are still alive after them that had been slaughtered. We shall be exterminated totally. Therefore, do thou change thy residence. O mighty king, all thy brothers are heroes, conversant with weapons; they have thinned the ranks of the rangers of the forest. We few--the remnants,--O mighty-minded one, remain like seed. By thy favour, O king of kings, let us increase.' Seeing these deer, which remained like seed after the rest had been destroyed trembling and afflicted with fear, Yudhishthira the just was greatly affected with grief. And the king, intent on the welfare of all creatures, said unto them, 'So be it. I shall act as ye have said.' Awaking after such a vision, that excellent king, moved by pity towards the deer, thus spake unto his brothers assembled there, 'Those deer that are alive after them that have been slaughtered, accosted me at night, after I had awakened, saying, "_We remain like the cues of our lines. Blest be thou! Do thou have compassion on us_." And they have spoken truly. We ought to feel pity for the dwellers of the forest. We have been feeding on them for a year together and eight months. Let us, therefore, again (repair) to the romantic Kamyakas, that best of forests abounding in wild animals, situated at the head of the desert, near lake Trinavindu. And there let us pleasantly pass the rest of our time.' Then, O king, the Pandavas versed in morality, swiftly departed (thence), accompanied by the Brahmanas and all those that lived with them, and followed by Indrasena and other retainers. And proceeding along the roads walked (by travellers), furnished with excellent corn and clear water, they at length beheld the sacred asylum of Kamyaka endued with ascetic merit. And as pious men enter the celestial regions, those foremost of the Bharata race, the Kauravas, surrounded by those bulls among Brahmanas entered that forest." SECTION CCLVII Vaisampayana continued, "Dwelling in the woods, O bull of the Bharata race, the high-souled Pandavas spent one and ten years in a miserable plight. And although deserving of happiness, those foremost of men, brooding over their circumstances, passed their days miserably, living on fruits and roots. And that royal sage, the mighty-armed Yudhishthira, reflecting that the extremity of misery that had befallen his brothers, was owing to his own fault, and remembering those sufferings that had arisen from his act of gambling, could not sleep peacefully. And he felt as if his heart had been pierced with a lance. And remembering the harsh words of the Suta's son, the Pandava, repressing the venom of his wrath, passed his time in humble guise, sighing heavily. And Arjuna and both the twins and the illustrious Draupadi, and the mighty Bhima--he that was strongest of all men--experienced the most poignant pain in casting their eyes on Yudhishthira. And thinking that a short time only remained (of their exile), those bulls among men, influenced by rage and hope and by resorting to various exertions and endeavours, made their bodies assume almost different shapes. "After a little while, that mighty ascetic, Vyasa, the son of Satyavati, came there to see the Pandavas. And seeing him approach, Kunti's son, Yudhishthira, stepped forward, and duly received that high-souled one. And having gratified Vyasa by bowing down unto him, Pandu's son of subdued senses, after the _Rishi_ had been seated, sat down before him, desirous of listening to him. And beholding his grandsons lean and living in the forest on the produce of the wilderness, that mighty sage, moved by compassion, said these words, in accents choked in tears, 'O mighty-armed Yudhishthira, O thou best of virtuous persons, those men that do not perform ascetic austerities never attain great happiness in this world. People experience happiness and misery by turns; for surely, O bull among men, no man ever enjoyeth unbroken happiness. A wise man endued with high wisdom, knowing that life hath its ups and downs, is neither filled with joy nor with grief. When happiness cometh, one should enjoy it; when misery cometh, one should bear it, as a sower of crops must bide his season. Nothing is superior to asceticism: by asceticism one acquireth mighty fruit. Do thou know, O Bharata, that there is nothing that asceticism cannot achieve. Truth, sincerity, freedom from anger, justice, self-control, restraint of the faculties, immunity from malice, guilelessness, sanctity, and mortification of the senses, these, O mighty monarch, purify a person of meritorious acts. Foolish persons addicted to vice and bestial ways, attain to brutish births in after life and never enjoy happiness. The fruit of acts done in this world is reaped in the next. Therefore should one restrain his body by asceticism and the observance of vows. And, O king, free from guile and with a cheerful spirit, one should, according to his power, bestow gifts, after going down to the recipient and paying him homage. A truth-telling person attaineth a life devoid of trouble. A person void of anger attaineth sincerity, and one free from malice acquireth supreme contentment. A person who hath subdued his senses and his inner faculties, never knoweth tribulation; nor is a person of subdued senses affected by sorrow at the height of other's prosperity. A man who giveth everyone his due, and the bestower of boons, attain happiness, and come by every object of enjoyment; while a man free from envy reapeth perfect ease. He that honoureth those to whom honour is due, attaineth birth in an illustrious line; and he that hath subdued his senses, never cometh by misfortune. A man whose mind followeth good, after having paid his debt to nature, is on this account, born again endued with a righteous mind.' "Yudhishthira said, 'O eminently virtuous one, O mighty sage, of the bestowal of gifts and the observance of asceticism, which is of greater efficacy in the next world, and which, harder of practice?' "Vyasa said, 'There is nothing, O child, in this world harder to practise than charity. Men greatly thirst after wealth, and wealth also is gotten with difficulty. Nay, renouncing even dear life itself, heroic men, O magnanimous one, enter into the depths of the sea and the forest for the sake of wealth. For wealth, some betake themselves to agriculture and the tending of kine, and some enter into servitude. Therefore, it is extremely difficult to part with wealth that is obtained with such trouble. Since nothing is harder to practise than charity, therefore, in my opinion, even the bestowal of boons is superior to everything. Specially is this to be borne in mind that well-earned gains should, in proper time and place, be given away to pious men. But the bestowal of ill-gotten gains can never rescue the giver from the evil of rebirth. It hath been declared, O Yudhishthira, that by bestowing, in a pure spirit, even a slight gift in due time and to a fit recipient, a man attaineth inexhaustible fruit in the next world. In this connection is instanced the old story regarding the fruit obtained by _Mudgala_, for having given away only a _drona_[45] of corn.'" [45] A very small measure. SECTION CCLVIII "Yudhishthira said, 'Why did that high-souled one give away a drona of corn? And, O eminently pious one, to whom and in what prescribed way did he give it? Do thou tell me this. Surely, I consider the life of that virtuous person as having borne fruit with whose practices the possessor himself of the six attributes, witnessing everything, was well pleased.' "Vyasa said, 'There lived, O king, in Kurukshetra a virtuous man (sage), Mudgala by name. And he was truthful, and free from malice, and of subdued senses. And he used to lead the _Sila_ and _Unchha_ modes of life.[46] And although living like a pigeon, yet that one of mighty austerities entertained his guests, celebrated the sacrifice called _Istikrita_, and performed other rites. And that sage together with his son and wife, ate for a fortnight, and during the other fortnight led the life of a pigeon, collecting a _drona_ of corn. And celebrating the _Darsa_ and _Paurnamasya_ sacrifices, that one devoid of guile, used to pass his days by taking the food that remained after the deities and the guests had eaten. And on auspicious lunar days, that lord of the three worlds, Indra himself, accompanied by the celestials used, O mighty monarch, to partake of the food offered at his sacrifice. And that one, having adopted the life of a _Muni_, with a cheerful heart entertained his guests also with food on such days. And as that high-souled one distributed his food with alacrity, the remainder of the _drona_ of corn increased as soon as a guest appeared. And by virtue of the pure spirit in which the sage gave away, that food of his increased so much that hundreds upon hundreds of learned Brahmanas were fed with it. [46] Picking up for support (1) ears of corn and (2) individual grains, left on the field by husbandmen after they have gathered and carried away the sheaves, are called the Sila and the Unchha modes of life. "'And, O king, it came to pass that having heard of the virtuous Mudgala observant of vows, the _Muni_ Durvasa, having space alone for his covering,[47] his accoutrements worn like that of maniac, and his head bare of hair, came there, uttering, O Pandava various insulting words. And having arrived there that best of _Munis_ said unto the Brahmana, "Know thou, O foremost of Brahmanas, that I have come hither seeking for food." Thereupon Mudgala said unto the sage, "Thou art welcome!" And then offering to that maniac of an ascetic affected by hunger, water to wash his feet and mouth, that one observant of the vow of feeding guests, respectfully placed before him excellent fare. Affected by hunger, the frantic _Rishi_ completely exhausted the food that had been offered unto him. Thereupon, Mudgala furnished him again with food. Then having eaten up all that food, he besmeared his body with the unclean orts and went away as he had come. In this manner, during the next season, he came again and ate up all the food supplied by that wise one leading the _Unchha_ mode of life. Thereupon, without partaking any food himself, the sage Mudgala again became engaged in collecting corn, following the _Unchha_ mode. Hunger could not disturb his equanimity. Nor could anger, nor guile, nor a sense of degradation, nor agitation, enter into the heart of that best of Brahmanas leading the _Unchha_ mode of life along with his son and his wife. In this way, Durvasa having made up his mind, during successive seasons presented himself for six several times before that best of sages living according to the _Unchha_ mode; yet that _Muni_ could not perceive any agitation in Mudgala's heart; and he found the pure heart of the pure-souled ascetic always pure. Thereupon, well-pleased, the sage addressed Mudgala, saying, "There is not another guileless and charitable being like thee on earth. The pangs of hunger drive away to a distance the sense of righteousness and deprive people of all patience. The tongue, loving delicacies, attracteth men towards them. Life is sustained by food. The mind, moreover, is fickle, and it is hard to keep it in subjection. The concentration of the mind and of the senses surely constitutes ascetic austerities. It must be hard to renounce in a pure spirit a thing earned by pains. Yet, O pious one, all this hath been duly achieved by thee. In thy company we feel obliged and gratified. Self-restraint, fortitude, justice, control of the senses and of faculties, mercy, and virtue, all these are established in thee. Thou hast by thy deeds conquered the different worlds and have thereby obtained admission into paths of beautitude. Ah! even the dwellers of heaven are proclaiming thy mighty deeds of charity. O thou observant of vows, thou shalt go to heaven even in thine own body." [47] Naked. "'Whilst the _Muni_ Durvasa was speaking thus, a celestial messenger appeared before Mudgala, upon a car yoked with swans and cranes, hung with a neat work of bells, scented with divine fragrance, painted picturesquely, and possessed of the power of going everywhere at will. And he addressed the Brahmana sage, saying, "O sage, do thou ascend into this chariot earned by thy acts. Thou hast attained the fruit of thy asceticism!" "'As the messenger of the gods was speaking thus, the sage told him, "O divine messenger, I desire that thou mayst describe unto me the attributes of those that reside there. What are their austerities, and what their purposes? And, O messenger of the gods, what constitutes happiness in heaven, and what are the disadvantages thereof? It is declared by virtuous men of good lineage that friendship with pious people is contracted by only walking with them seven paces. O lord, in the name of that friendship I ask thee, do thou without hesitation tell me the truth, and that which is good for me now. Having heard thee, I shall, according to thy words, ascertain the course I ought to follow."'" SECTION CCLIX "'The messenger of the gods said, "O great sage, thou art of simple understanding; since, having secured that celestial bliss which bringeth great honour, thou art still deliberating like an unwise person. O _Muni_, that region which is known as heaven, existeth there above us. Those regions tower high, and are furnished with excellent paths, and are, O sage, always ranged by celestial cars. Atheists, and untruthful persons, those that have not practised ascetic austerities and those that have not performed great sacrifices, cannot repair thither. Only men of virtuous souls, and those of subdued spirits, and those that have their faculties in subjection, and those that have controlled their senses, and those that are free from malice, and persons intent on the practice of charity, and heroes, and men bearing marks of battle, after having, with subdued senses and faculties, performed the most meritorious rites, attain those regions, O Brahmana, capable of being obtained only by virtuous acts, and inhabited by pious men. There, O Mudgala, are established separately myriads of beautiful, shining, and resplendent worlds bestowing every object of desire, owned by those celestial beings, the gods, the _Sadhyas_, and the _Vaiswas_, the great sages, _Yamas_, and the _Dharmas_, and the _Gandharvas_ and the _Apsaras_. And there is that monarch of mountains the golden Meru extending over a space of thirty-three thousand _Yojanas_. And there, O Mudgala, are the sacred gardens of the celestials, with Nandana at their head, where sport the persons of meritorious acts. And neither hunger, nor thirst, nor lassitude, nor fear, nor anything that is disgusting or inauspicious is there. And all the odours of that place are delightful, and all the breezes delicious to the touch. And all the sounds there are captivating, O sage, to the ear and the heart. And neither grief, nor decrepitude, nor labour, nor repentance also is there. That world, O _Muni_, obtained as the fruit of one's own acts, is of this nature. Persons repair thither by virtue of their meritorious deeds. And the persons of those that dwell there look resplendent, and this, O Mudgala, solely by virtue of their own acts, and not owing to the merits of father or mothers. And there is neither sweat, nor stench, nor urine there. And there, O _Muni_, dust doth not soils one's garments. And their excellent garlands, redolent of divine fragrance, never fade. And, O Brahmana, they yoke such cars as this (that I have brought). And, O mighty sage, devoid of envy and grief and fatigue and ignorance and malice, men who have attained heaven, dwell in those regions happily. And, O bull among _Munis_, higher and higher over such regions there are others endued with higher celestial virtues. Of these, the beautiful and resplendent regions of Brahma are the foremost. Thither, O Brahmana, repair _Rishis_ that have been sanctified by meritorious acts. And there dwell certain beings named _Ribhus_. They are the gods of the gods themselves. Their regions are supremely blessed, and are adored even by the deities. These shine by their own light, and bestow every object of desire. They suffer no pangs that women might cause, do not possess worldly wealth, and are free from guile. The _Ribhus_ do not subsist on oblations, nor yet on ambrosia. And they are endued with such celestial forms that they cannot be perceived by the senses. And these eternal gods of the celestials do not desire happiness for happiness' sake, nor do they change at the revolution of a _Kalpa_. Where, indeed, is their decrepitude or dissolution? For them there is neither ecstasy, nor joy, nor happiness. They have neither happiness nor misery. Wherefore should they have anger or aversion then, O _Muni_? O Mudgala, their supreme state is coveted even by the gods. And that crowning emancipation, hard to attain, can never be acquired by people subject to desire. The number of those deities is thirty-three. To their regions repair wise men, after having observed excellent vows, or bestowed gifts according to the ordinance. Thou also hast easily acquired that success by thy charities. Do thou, by effulgence displayed by virtue of thy ascetic austerities, enjoy that condition obtained by thy meritorious acts. Such, O Brahmana, is the bliss of heaven containing various worlds. "'"Thus have I described unto thee the blessing of the celestial regions. Do thou now hear from me some of the disadvantages thereof. That in the celestial regions a person, while reaping the fruit of the acts he hath already performed, cannot be engaged in any others, and that he must enjoy the consequences of the former until they are completely exhausted, and, further, that he is subject to fall after he hath entirely exhausted his merit, form, in my opinion, the disadvantages of heaven. The fall of a person whose mind hath been steeped in happiness, must, O Mudgala, be pronounced as a fault. And the discontent and regret that must follow one's stay at an inferior seat after one hath enjoyed more auspicious and brighter regions, must be hard to bear. And the consciousness of those about to fall is stupefied, and also agitated by emotions. And as the garlands of those about to fall fade away, fear invadeth their hearts. These mighty drawbacks, O Mudgala, extend even to the regions of Brahma. In the celestial regions, the virtues of men who have performed righteous acts, are countless. And, O _Muni_, this is another of the attributes of the fallen that, by reason of their merits, they take birth among men. And then they attain to high fortune and happiness. If one, however, cannot acquire knowledge here, one cometh by an inferior birth. The fruits of acts done in this world are reaped in the next. This world, O Brahmana, hath been declared to be one of acts; the others, as one of fruit. Thus have I, O Mudgala, asked by thee, described all unto thee. Now, O pious one, with thy favour, we shall easily set out with speed."' "Vyasa continued, 'Having heard this speech, Mudgala began to reflect in his mind. And having deliberated well, that best of _Munis_ spake thus unto the celestial messenger, "O messenger of the gods, I bow unto thee. Do thou, O sire, depart in peace. I have nothing to do with either happiness, or heaven having such prominent defects. Persons who enjoy heaven suffer, after all, huge misery and extreme regret in this world. Therefore, I do not desire heaven. I shall seek for that unfailing region repairing whither people have not to lament, or to be pained, or agitated. Thou hast described unto me these great defects belonging to the celestial regions. Do thou now describe unto me a region free from faults." Thereupon the celestial messenger said, "Above the abode of _Brahma_, there is the supreme seat of Vishnu, pure, and eternal, and luminous known by the name of _Para Brahma_. Thither, O Brahmana, cannot repair persons who are attached to the objects of the senses: nor can those subject to arrogance, covetousness, ignorance, anger, and envy, go to that place. It is only those that are free from affection, and those free from pride, and those free from conflicting emotions, and those that have restrained their senses, and those given to contemplation and _Yoga_, that can repair thither." Having heard these words, the _Muni_ bade farewell to the celestial messenger, and that virtuous one leading the _Unchha_ mode of life, assumed perfect contentment. And then praise and dispraise became equal unto him; and a brickbat, stone, and gold assumed the same aspect in his eyes. And availing himself of the means of attaining _Brahma_, he became always engaged in meditation. And having obtained power by means of knowledge, and acquired excellent understanding, he attained that supreme state of emancipation which is regarded as Eternal. Therefore, thou also, O Kunti's son, ought not to grieve. Deprived thou hast truly been of a flourishing kingdom, but thou wilt regain it by thy ascetic austerities. Misery after happiness, and happiness after misery, revolve by turns round a man even like the point of a wheel's circumference round the axle. After the thirteenth year hath passed away, thou wilt, O thou of immeasurable might, get back the kingdom possessed before thee by thy father and grand-father. Therefore, let the fever of thy heart depart!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this to Pandu's son, the worshipful Vyasa went back to his hermitage for the purpose of performing austerities." SECTION CCLX Janamejaya said, "While the high-souled Pandavas were living in those woods, delighted with the pleasant conversation they held with the _Munis_, and engaged in distributing the food they obtained from the sun, with various kinds of venison to Brahmanas and others that came to them for edibles till the hour of Krishna's meal, how, O great _Muni_, did Duryodhana and the other wicked and sinful sons of Dhritarashtra, guided by the counsels of Dussasana, Karna and Sakuni, deal with them? I ask thee this. Do thou, worshipful Sir, enlighten me." Vaisampayana said, "When, O great king, Duryodhana heard that the Pandavas were living as happily in the woods as in a city, he longed, with the artful Karna, Dussasana and others, to do them harm. And while those evil-minded persons were employed in concerting various wicked designs, the virtuous and celebrated ascetic Durvasa, following the bent of his own will, arrived at the city of the Kurus with ten thousand disciples. And seeing the irascible ascetic arrived, Duryodhana and his brothers welcomed him with great humility, self-abasement and gentleness. And himself attending on the _Rishi_ as a menial, the prince gave him a right worshipful reception. And the illustrious _Muni_ stayed there for a few days, while king Duryodhana, watchful of his imprecations, attended on him diligently by day and night. And sometimes the _Muni_ would say, 'I am hungry, O king, give me some food quickly.' And sometimes he would go out for a bath and, returning at a late hour, would say, 'I shall not eat anything today as I have no appetite,' and so saying would disappear from his sight. And sometimes, coming all on a sudden, he would say, 'Feed us quickly.' And at other times, bent on some mischief, he would awake at midnight and having caused his meals to be prepared as before, would carp at them and not partake of them at all. And trying the prince in this way for a while, when the _Muni_ found that the king Duryodhana was neither angered, nor annoyed, he became graciously inclined towards him. And then, O Bharata, the intractable Durvasa said unto him, 'I have power to grant thee boons. Thou mayst ask of me whatever lies nearest to thy heart. May good fortune be thine. Pleased as I am with thee, thou mayst obtain from me anything that is not opposed to religion and morals.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of the great ascetic, Suyodhana felt himself to be inspired with new life. Indeed, it had been agreed upon between himself and Karna and Dussasana as to what the boon should be that he would ask of the _Muni_ if the latter were pleased with his reception. And the evil-minded king, bethinking himself of what had previously been decided, joyfully solicited the following favour, saying, 'The great king Yudhishthira is the eldest and the best of our race. That pious man is now living in the forest with his brothers. Do thou, therefore, once become the guest of that illustrious one even as, O Brahmana, thou hast with thy disciples been mine for some time. If thou art minded to do me a favour, do thou go unto him at a time when that delicate and excellent lady, the celebrated princess of Panchala, after having regaled with food the Brahmanas, her husbands and herself, may lie down to rest.' The _Rishi_ replied, 'Even so shall I act for thy satisfaction.' And having said this to Suyodhana, that great Brahmana, Durvasa, went away in the very same state in which he had come. And Suyodhana regarded himself to have attained all the objects of his desire. And holding Karna by the hand he expressed great satisfaction. And Karna, too, joyfully addressed the king in the company of his brothers, saying, 'By a piece of singular good luck, thou hast fared well and attained the objects of thy desire. And by good luck it is that thy enemies have been immersed in a sea of dangers that is difficult to cross. The sons of Pandu are now exposed to the fire of Durvasa's wrath. Through their own fault they have fallen into an abyss of darkness.'" Vaisampayana continued, "O king, expressing their satisfaction in this strain, Duryodhana and others, bent on evil machinations, returned merrily to their respective homes." SECTION CCLXI (_Draupadi-harana Parva_) Vaisampayana said, "One day, having previously ascertained that the Pandavas were all seated at their ease and that Krishna was reposing herself after her meal, the sage Durvasa, surrounded by ten thousand disciples repaired to that forest. The illustrious and upright king Yudhishthira, seeing that guest arrived, advanced with his brothers to receive him. And joining the palms of his hands and pointing to a proper and excellent seat, he accorded the _Rishis_ a fit and respectful welcome. And the king said unto him, 'Return quick, O adorable sir, after performing thy diurnal ablutions and observances.' And that sinless _Muni_, not knowing how the king would be able to provide a feast for him and his disciples, proceeded with the latter to perform his ablutions. And that host of the _Muni_, of subdued passions, went into the stream for performing their ablutions. Meanwhile, O king, the excellent princess Draupadi, devoted to her husbands, was in great anxiety about the food (to be provided for the _Munis_). And when after much anxious thought she came to the conclusion that means there were none for providing a feast, she inwardly prayed to Krishna, the slayer of Kansa. And the princess said, 'Krishna, O Krishna, of mighty arms, O son of Devaki, whose power is inexhaustible, O Vasudeva, O lord of the Universe, who dispellest the difficulties of those that bow down to thee, thou art the soul, the creator and the destroyer of the Universe. Thou, O lord, art inexhaustible and the saviour of the afflicted. Thou art the preserver of the Universe and of all created beings. Thou art the highest of the high, and the spring of the mental perceptions _Akuli_ and _Chiti_![48] O Supreme and Infinite Being, O giver of all good, be thou the refuge of the helpless. O Primordial Being, incapable of being conceived by the soul or the mental faculties or otherwise, thou art the ruler of all and the lord of Brahma. I seek thy protection. O god, thou art ever kindly disposed towards those that take refuge in thee. Do thou cherish me with thy kindness. O thou with a complexion dark as the leaves of the blue lotus, and with eyes red as the corolla of the lily, and attired in yellow robes with, besides, the bright _Kaustubha_ gem in thy bosom, thou art the beginning and the end of creation, and the great refuge of all. Thou art the supreme light and essence of the Universe! Thy face is directed towards every point. They call thee Supreme Gem and the depository of all treasures. Under thy protections, O lord of the gods, all evils lose their terror. As thou didst protect me before from Dussasana, do thou extricate me now from this difficulty.'" [48] Both these words are of doubtful meaning. It seems they are employed in the Vedas to denote the faculties of knowledge and the moral sense respectively. Vaisampayana continued, "The great and sovereign God, and Lord of the earth, of mysterious movements, the lord Kesava who is ever kind to the dependents, thus adored by Krishna, and perceiving her difficulty, instantly repaired to that place leaving the bed of Rukmini who was sleeping by his side. Beholding Vasudeva, Draupadi bowed down to him in great joy and informed him of the arrival of the _Munis_ and every other thing. And having heard everything Krishna said unto her, 'I am very much afflicted with hunger, do thou give me some food without delay, and then thou mayst go about thy work.' At these words of Kesava, Krishna became confused, and replied unto him, saying, 'The sun-given vessel remains full till I finish my meal. But as I have already taken my meal today, there is no food in it now.' Then that lotus-eyed and adorable being said unto Krishna, 'This is no time for jest, O Krishna.--I am much distressed with hunger, go thou quickly to fetch the vessel and show it to me.' When Kesava, that ornament of the Yadu's race, had the vessel brought unto him,--with such persistence, he looked into it and saw a particle of rice and vegetable sticking at its rim. And swallowing it he said unto her, 'May it please the god Hari, the soul of the Universe, and may that god who partaketh at sacrifices, be satiated with this.' Then the long-armed Krishna, that soother of miseries, said unto Bhimasena, 'Do thou speedily invite the _Munis_ to dinner.' Then, O good king, the celebrated Bhimasena quickly went to invite all those _Munis_, Durvasa and others, who had gone to the nearest stream of transparent and cool water to perform their ablutions. Meanwhile, these ascetics, having plunged into the river, were rubbing their bodies and observing that they all felt their stomachs to be full. And coming out of the stream, they began to stare at one another. And turning towards Durvasa, all those ascetics observed, 'Having bade the king make our meals ready, we have come hither for a bath. But how, O regenerate _Rishi_, can we eat anything now, for our stomachs seem to be full to the throat. The repast hath been uselessly prepared for us. What is the best thing to be done now?' Durvasa replied, 'By spoiling the repast, we have done a great wrong to that royal sage, king Yudhishthira. Would not the Pandavas destroy us by looking down upon us with angry eyes? I know the royal sage Yudhishthira to be possessed of great ascetic power. Ye Brahmanas, I am afraid of men that are devoted to Hari. The high-souled Pandavas are all religious men, learned, war-like, diligent in ascetic austerities and religious observances, devoted to Vasudeva, and always observant of rules of good conduct. If provoked, they can consume us with their wrath as fire doth a bale of cotton. Therefore, ye disciples, do ye all run away quickly without seeing them (again)!'" Vaisampayana continued, "All those Brahmanas, thus advised by their ascetic preceptor, became greatly afraid of the Pandavas and fled away in all directions. Then Bhimasena not beholding those excellent _Munis_ in the celestial river, made a search after them here and there at all the landing places. And learning from the ascetics of those places that they had run away, he came back and informed Yudhishthira of what had happened. Then all the Pandavas of subdued senses, expecting them to come, remained awaiting their arrival for some time. And Yudhishthira said, 'Coming dead of night the _Rishis_ will deceive us. Oh how, can we escape from this difficulty created by the fates?' Seeing them absorbed in such reflections and breathing long deep sighs at frequent intervals, the illustrious Krishna suddenly appeared to them and addressed them these words: 'Knowing, ye sons of Pritha, your danger from that wrathful _Rishi_, I was implored by Draupadi to come, and (therefore) have I come here speedily. But now ye have not the least fear from the _Rishi_ Durvasa. Afraid of your ascetic powers, he hath made himself scarce ere this. Virtuous men never suffer. I now ask your permission to let me return home. May you always be prosperous!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing Kesava's words, the sons of Pritha, with Draupadi, became easy in mind. And cured of their fever (of anxiety), they said unto him, 'As persons drowning in the wide ocean safely reach the shore by means of a boat, so have we, by thy aid, O lord Govinda, escaped from this inextricable difficulty. Do thou now depart in peace, and may prosperity be thine.' Thus dismissed, he repaired to his capital and the Pandavas too, O blessed lord, wandering from forest to forest passed their days merrily with Draupadi. Thus, O king, have I related to thee the story which thou askedest me to repeat. And it was thus that the machinations of the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra about the Pandavas in the forest, were frustrated." SECTION CCLXII Vaisampayana said, "These great warriors of the race of Bharata sojourned like immortals in the great forest of Kamyaka, employed in hunting and pleased with the sight of numerous wild tracts of country and wide reaches of woodland, gorgeous with flowers blossoming in season. And the sons of Pandu, each like unto Indra and the terror of his enemies, dwelt there for some time. And one day those valiant men, the conquerors of their foes, went about in all directions in search of game for feeding the Brahmanas in their company, leaving Draupadi alone at the hermitage, with the permission of the great ascetic Trinavindu, resplendent with ascetic grandeur, and of their spiritual guide Dhaumya. Meanwhile, the famous king of Sindhu, the son of Vriddhakshatra was, with a view to matrimony, proceeding to the kingdom of Salwa, dressed in his best royal apparel and accompanied by numerous princes. And the prince halted in the woods of Kamyaka. And in that secluded place, he found the beautiful Draupadi, the beloved and celebrated wife of the Pandavas, standing at the threshold of the hermitage. And she looked grand in the superb beauty of her form, and seemed to shed a lustre on the woodland around, like lightning illuminating masses of dark clouds. And they who saw her asked themselves, 'Is this an Apsara, or a daughter of the gods, or a celestial phantom?' And with this thought, their hands also joined together, they stood gazing on the perfect and faultless beauty of her form. And Jayadratha, the king of Sindhu, and the son of Vriddhakshatra, struck with amazement at the sight of that lady of faultless beauty, was seized with an evil intention. And inflamed with desire, he said to the prince named Kotika, 'Whose is this lady of faultless form? Is she of the human kind? I have no need to marry if I can secure this exquisitely beautiful creature. Taking her with me, I shall go back to my abode, Oh sir, and enquire who she is and whence she has come and why also that delicate being hath come into this forest beset with thorns. Will this ornament of womankind, this slender-waisted lady of so much beauty, endued with handsome teeth and large eyes, accept me as her lord? I shall certainly regard myself successful, if I obtain the hand of this excellent lady. Go, Kotika, and enquire who her husband may be.' Thus asked, Kotika, wearing a kundala, jumped out of his chariot and came near her, as a jackal approacheth a tigress, and spake unto her these words." SECTION CCLXIII "Kotika said, 'Excellent lady, who art thou that standest alone, leaning on a branch of the _Kadamva_ tree at this hermitage and looking grand like a flame of fire blazing at night time, and fanned by the wind? Exquisitely beautiful as thou art, how is it that thou feelest not any fear in these forests? Methinks thou art a goddess, or a _Yakshi_, or a _Danavi_, or an excellent _Apsara_, or the wife of a _Daitya_, or a daughter of the _Naga_ king, or a _Rakshasi_ or the wife of Varuna, or of Yama, or of Soma, or of Kuvera, who, having assumed a human form, wanderest in these forests. Or, hast thou come from the mansions of Dhatri, or of Vidhatri, or of Savitri, or of Vibhu, or of Sakra? Thou dost not ask us who we are, nor do we know who protects thee here! Respectfully do we ask thee, good lady, who is thy powerful father, and, O, do tell us truly the names of thy husband, thy relatives, and thy race, and tell us also what thou dost here. As for us, I am king Suratha's son whom people know by the name of Kotika, and that man with eyes large as the petals of the lotus, sitting on a chariot of gold, like the sacrificial fire on the altar, is the warrior known by the name of Kshemankara, king of Trigarta. And behind him is the famous son of the king of Pulinda, who is even now gazing on thee. Armed with a mighty bow and endued with large eyes, and decorated with floral wreaths, he always liveth on the breasts of mountains. The dark and handsome young man, the scourge of his enemies, standing at the edge of that tank, is the son of Suvala of the race of Ikshwaku. And if, O excellent lady, thou hast ever heard the name of Jayadratha, the king of Sauviras, even he is there at the head of six thousand chariots, with horses and elephants and infantry, and followed by twelve Sauvira princes as his standard-bearers, named Angaraka, Kunjara, Guptaka, Satrunjaya, Srinjaya, Suprabiddha, Prabhankara, Bhramara, Ravi, Sura, Pratapa and Kuhana, all mounted on chariots drawn by chestnut horses and every one of them looking like the fire on the sacrificial altar. The brothers also of the king, viz., the powerful Valahaka, Anika, Vidarana and others, are among his followers. These strong-limbed and noble youths are the flowers of the Sauvira chivalry. The king is journeying in the company of these his friends, like Indra surrounded by the Maruts. O fine-haired lady, do tell us that are unacquainted (with these matters), whose wife and whose daughter thou art.'" SECTION CCLXIV Vaisampayana continued, "The princess Draupadi, thus questioned by that ornament of Sivi's race, moved her eyes gently, and letting go her hold of the Kadamva branch and arranging her silken apparel she said, 'I am aware, O prince, that it is not proper for a person like me to address you thus, but as there is not another man or woman here to speak with thee and as I am alone here just now, let me, therefore, speak. Know, worthy sir, that being alone in this forest here, I should not speak unto thee, remembering the usages of my sex. I have learned, O Saivya, that thou art Suratha's son, whom people know by the name of Kotika. Therefore, on my part, I shall now tell thee of my relations and renowned race. I am the daughter of king Drupada, and people know me by the name of Krishna, and I have accepted as my husbands, five persons of whom you may have heard while they were living at Khandavaprastha. Those noble persons, viz., Yudhishthira, Bhimasena, Arjuna, and the two sons of Madri, leaving me here and having assigned unto themselves the four points of the horizon, have gone out on a hunting excursion. The king hath gone to the east, Bhimasena towards the south, Arjuna to the west, and the twin brothers towards the north! Therefore, do ye now alight and dismiss your carriages so that ye may depart after receiving a due welcome from them. The high-souled son of Dharma is fond of guests and will surely be delighted to see you!' Having addressed Saivya's son in this way, the daughter of Drupada, with face beautiful as the moon, remembering well her husband's character for hospitality, entered her spacious cottage." SECTION CCLXV Vaisampayana said, "O Bharata, Kotikakhya related to those princes who had been waiting, all that had passed between him and Krishna. And hearing Kotikakhya's words, Jayadratha said to that scion of the race of Sivi, 'Having listened only to her speech, my heart has been lovingly inclined towards that ornament of womankind. Why therefore, hast thou returned (thus unsuccessful)? I tell thee truly, O thou of mighty arms, that having once seen this lady, other women now seem to me like so many monkeys. I having looked at her, she has captivated my heart. Do tell me, O Saivya, if that excellent lady is of the human kind.' Kotika replied, 'This lady is the famous princess Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, and the celebrated wife of the five sons of Pandu. She is the much esteemed and beloved and chaste wife of the sons of Pritha. Taking her with thee, do thou proceed towards Sauvira!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, the evil-minded Jayadratha, the king of Sindhu, Sauvira and other countries, said, 'I must see Draupadi.' And with six other men he entered that solitary hermitage, like a wolf entering the den of a lion. And he said unto Krishna, 'Hail to thee, excellent lady! Are thy husbands well and those, besides, whose prosperity thou always wishest.' Draupadi replied, 'Kunti's son king Yudhishthira of the race of Kuru, his brothers, myself, and all those of whom thou hast enquired of, are well. Is everything right with thy kingdom, thy government, exchequer, and thy army? Art thou, as sole ruler, governing with justice the rich countries of Saivya, Sivi, Sindhu and others that thou hast brought under thy sway? Do thou, O prince, accept this water for washing thy feet. Do thou also take this seat. I offer thee fifty animals for thy train's breakfast. Besides these, Yudhishthira himself, the son of Kunti, will give thee porcine deer and _Nanku_ deer, and does, and antelopes, and _Sarabhas_, and rabbits, and _Ruru_ deer, and bears, and _Samvara_ deer and gayals and many other animals, besides wild boars and buffaloes and other animals of the quadruped tribe.' Hearing this Jayadratha replied, saying, 'All is well with me. By offering to provide our breakfast, thou hast in a manner actually done it. Come now and ride my chariot and be completely happy. For it becomes not thee to have any regard for the miserable sons of Pritha who are living in the woods, whose energies have been paralysed, whose kingdom hath been snatched and whose fortunes are at the lowest ebb. A woman of sense like thee doth not attach herself to a husband that is poor. She should follow her lord when he is in prosperity but abandon him when in adversity. The sons of Pandu have for ever fallen away from their high state, and have lost their kingdom for all time to come. Thou hast no need, therefore, to partake of their misery from any regard for them. Therefore, O thou of beautiful hips, forsaking the sons of Pandu, be happy by becoming my wife, and share thou with me the kingdoms of Sindhu and Sauvira.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these frightful words of the king of Sindhu, Krishna retired from that place, her face furrowed into a frown owing to the contraction of her eye-brows. But disregarding his words from supreme contempt, the slender-waisted Krishna reproving said unto the king of Sindhu, 'Speak not thus again! Art thou not ashamed? Be on thy guard!' And that lady of irreproachable character anxiously expecting the return of her husband, began, with long speeches, to beguile him completely." SECTION CCLXVI Vaisampayana said, "The daughter of Drupada, though naturally handsome, was suffused with crimson arising from a fit of anger. And with eyes inflamed and eye-brows bent in wrath, she reproved the ruler of the Suviras, saying, 'Art thou not ashamed, O fool, to use such insulting words in respect of those celebrated and terrible warriors, each like unto Indra himself, and who are all devoted to their duties and who never waver in fight with even hosts of _Yakshas_ and _Rakshasas_? O Sauvira, good men never speak ill of learned persons devoted to austerities and endued with learning, no matter whether they live in the wilderness or in houses. It is only wretches that are mean as thou who do so. Methinks there is none in this assemblage of Kshatriya, who is capable of holding thee by the hand to save thee from falling into the pit thou openest under thy feet. In hoping to vanquish king Yudhishthira the just, thou really hopest to separate, stick in hand, from a herd roaming in Himalayan valleys, its leader, huge as a mountain peak and with the temporal juice trickling down its rent temples. Out of childish folly thou art kicking up into wakefulness the powerful lion lying asleep, in order to pluck the hair from off his face! Thou shalt, however, have to run away when thou seest Bhimasena in wrath! Thy courting a combat with the furious Jishnu may be likened to thy kicking up a mighty, terrible, full-grown and furious lion asleep in a mountain cave. The encounter thou speakest of with those two excellent youths--the younger Pandavas--is like unto the act of a fool that wantonly trampleth on the tails of two venomous black cobras with bifurcated tongues. The bamboo, the reed, and the plantain bear fruit only to perish and not to grow in size any further. Like also the crab that conceiveth for her own destruction, thou wilt lay hands upon me who am protected by these mighty heroes!' "Jayadratha replied, 'I know all this, O Krishna, and I am well aware of the prowess of those princes. But thou canst not frighten us now with these threats. We, too, O Krishna, belong by birth to the seventeen high clans, and are endowed with the six royal qualities.[49] We, therefore, look down upon the Pandavas as inferior men! Therefore, do thou, O daughter of Drupada, ride this elephant or this chariot quickly, for thou canst not baffle us with thy words alone; or, speaking less boastfully, seek thou the mercy of the king of the Sauviras!' [49] The six acts of a king are peace, war, marching, halting, sowing dissention, and seeking protection. "Draupadi replied, 'Though I am so powerful, why doth the king of Sauvira yet consider me so powerless. Well-known as I am, I cannot, from fear of violence, demean myself before that prince. Even Indra himself cannot abduct her for whose protection Krishna and Arjuna would together follow, riding in the same chariot. What shall I say, therefore, of a weak human being. When Kiriti, that slayer of foes, riding on his car, will, on my account, enter thy ranks, striking terror into every heart, he will consume everything around like fire consuming a stack of dry grass in summer. The warring princes of the Andhaka and the Vrishni races, with Janardana at their head, and the mighty bowmen of the Kaikeya tribe, will all follow in my wake with great ardour. The terrible arrows of Dhananjaya, shot from the string of the _Gandiva_ and propelled by his arms fly with great force through the air, roaring like the very clouds. And when thou wilt behold Arjuna shooting from the _Gandiva_ a thick mass of mighty arrows like unto a flight of locusts, then wilt thou repent of thine own folly! Bethink thyself of what thou wilt feel when that warrior armed with the _Gandiva_, blowing his conch-shell and with gloves reverberating with the strokes of his bowstring will again and again pierce thy breast with his shafts. And when Bhima will advance towards thee, mace in hand and the two sons of Madri range in all directions, vomiting forth the venom of their wrath, thou wilt then experience pangs of keen regret that will last for ever. As I have never been false to my worthy lords even in thought, so by that merit shall I now have the pleasure of beholding thee vanquished and dragged by the sons of Pritha. Thou canst not, cruel as thou art, frighten me by seizing me with violence, for as soon as those Kuru warriors will espy me they will bring me back to the woods of Kamyaka.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then that lady of large eyes, beholding them ready to lay violent hands on her, rebuked them and said, 'Defile me not by your touch!' And in a great alarm she then called upon her spiritual adviser, Dhaumya. Jayadratha, however, seized her by her upper garment, but she pushed him with great vigour. And pushed by the lady, that sinful wretch fell upon the ground like a tree severed from its roots. Seized, however, once more by him with great violence, she began to pant for breath. And dragged by the wretch, Krishna at last ascended his chariot having worshipped Dhaumya's feet. And Dhaumya then addressed Jayadratha and said, 'Do thou, O Jayadratha, observe the ancient custom of the Kshatriyas. Thou canst not carry her off without having vanquished those great warriors. Without doubt, thou shalt reap the painful fruits of this thy despicable act, when thou encounterest the heroic sons of Pandu with Yudhishthira the just at their head!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said these words Dhaumya, entering into the midst of Jayadratha's infantry, began to follow that renowned princess who was thus being carried away by the ravisher." SECTION CCLXVII Vaisampayana said, "Meanwhile those foremost of bowmen on the face of the earth, having wandered separately and ranged in all directions, and having slain plenty of deer and buffaloes, at length met together. And observing that great forest, which was crowded with hosts of deer and wild beasts, resounding with the shrill cries of birds, and hearing the shrieks and yells of the denizens of the wilderness, Yudhishthira said unto his brothers, 'These birds and wild beasts, flying towards that direction which is illuminated by the sun, are uttering dissonant cries and displaying an intense excitement. All this only shows that this mighty forest hath been invaded by hostile intruders. Without a moment's delay let us give up the chase. We have no more need of game. My heart aches and seems to burn! The soul in my body, over-powering the intellect, seems ready to fly out. As a lake rid by Garuda of the mighty snake that dwells in it, as a pot drained of its contents by thirsty men, as a kingdom reft of king and prosperity, even so doth the forest of Kamyaka seem to me.' Thus addressed, those heroic warriors drove towards their abode, on great cars of handsome make and drawn by steeds of the _Saindharva_ breed exceedingly fleet and possessed of the speed of the hurricane. And on their way back, they beheld a jackal yelling hideously on the wayside towards their left. And king Yudhishthira, regarding it attentively, said unto Bhima and Dhananjaya, 'This jackal that belongs to a very inferior species of animals, speaking to our left, speaketh a language which plainly indicates that the sinful Kurus, disregarding us, have commenced to oppress us by resorting to violence.' After the sons of Pandu had given up the chase and said these words, they entered the grove which contained their hermitage. And there they found their beloved one's maid, the girl Dhatreyika, sobbing and weeping. And Indrasena then quickly alighting from the chariot and advancing with hasty steps towards her, questioned her, O king, in great distress of mind, saying, 'What makes thee weep thus, lying on the ground, and why is thy face so woe-begone and colourless? I hope no cruel wretches have done any harm to the princess Draupadi possessed of incomparable beauty and large eyes and who is the second self of every one of those bulls of the Kuru race? So anxious hath been Dharma's son that if the princess hath entered the bowels of the earth or hath soared to heaven or dived into the bottom of the ocean, he and his brothers will go thither in pursuit of her. Who could that fool be that would carry away that priceless jewel belonging to the mighty and ever-victorious sons of Pandu, those grinders of foes, and which is dear unto them as their own lives? I don't know who the person could be that would think of carrying away that princess who hath such powerful protectors and who is even like a walking embodiment of the hearts of the sons of Pandu? Piercing whose breasts will terrible shafts stick to the ground to-day? Do not weep for her, O timid girl, for know thou that Krishna will come back this very day, and the sons of Pritha, having slain their foes, will again be united with Yagnaseni!' Thus addressed by him, Dhatreyika, wiping her beautiful face, replied unto Indrasena the charioteer, saying, 'Disregarding the five Indra-like sons of Pandu, Jayadratha hath carried away Krishna by force. The track pursued by him hath not yet disappeared, for the broken branches of trees have not yet faded. Therefore, turn your cars and follow her quickly, for the princess cannot have gone far by this time! Ye warriors possessed of the prowess of Indra, putting on your costly bows of handsome make, and taking up your costly bows and quivers, speed ye in pursuit of her, lest overpowered by threats or violence and losing her sense and the colour of her cheeks, she yields herself up to an undeserving wight, even as one poureth forth, from the sacrificial ladle, the sanctified oblation on a heap of ashes. O, see that the clarified butter is not poured into an unigniting fire of paddy chaff; that a garland of flowers is not thrown away in a cemetery. O, take care that the _Soma_ juice of a sacrifice is not licked up by a dog through the carelessness of the officiating priests! O, let not the lily be rudely torn by a jackal roaming for its prey in the impenetrable forest. O, let no inferior wight touch with his lips the bright and beautiful face of your wife, fair as the beams of the moon and adorned with the finest nose and the handsomest eyes, like a dog licking clarified butter kept in the sacrificial pot! Do ye speed in this track and let not time steal a march on you.' "Yudhishthira said, 'Retire, good woman, and control thy tongue. Speak not this way before us. Kings or princes, whoever are infatuated with the possession of power, are sure to come to grief!'" Vaisampayana continued, "With these words, they departed, following the track pointed out to them, and frequently breathing deep sighs like the hissing of snakes, and twanging the strings of their large bows. And then they observed a cloud of dust raised by the hoofs of the steeds belonging to Jayadratha's army. And they also saw Dhaumya in the midst of the ravisher's infantry, exhorting Bhima to quicken his steps. Then those princes (the sons of Pandu) with hearts undepressed, bade him be of good cheer and said unto him, 'Do thou return cheerfully!'--And then they rushed towards that host with great fury, like hawks swooping down on their prey. And possessed of the prowess of Indra, they had been filled with fury at the insult offered to Draupadi. But at sight of Jayadratha and of their beloved wife seated on his car, their fury knew no bounds. And those mighty bowmen, Bhima and Dhananjaya and the twin brothers and the king, called out Jayadratha to stop, upon which the enemy was so bewildered as to lose their knowledge of directions." SECTION CCLXVIII Vaisampayana said, "The hostile Kshatriyas, incensed at sight of Bhimasena and Arjuna, sent up a loud shout in the forest. And the wicked king Jayadratha, when he saw the standards of those bulls of the Kuru race, lost his heart, and addressing the resplendent Yagnaseni seated on his car, said, 'Those five great warriors, O Krishna, that are coming, are I believe, thy husbands. As thou knowest the sons of Pandu well, do thou, O lady of beautiful tresses, describe them one by one to us, pointing out which of them rideth which car!' Thus addressed, Draupadi replied, 'Having done this violent deed calculated to shorten thy life, what will it avail thee now, O fool, to know the names of those great warriors, for, now that my heroic husbands are come, not one of ye will be left alive in battle. However as thou art on the point of death and hast asked me, I will tell thee everything, this being consistent with the ordinance. Beholding king Yudhishthira the just with his younger brothers, I have not the slightest anxiety or fear from thee! That warrior at the top of whose flagstaff two handsome and sonorous tabours called _Nanda_ and _Upananda_ are constantly played upon,--he, O Sauvira chief, hath a correct knowledge of the morality of his own acts. Men that have attained success always walk in his train. With a complexion like that of pure gold, possessed of a prominent nose and large eyes, and endued with a slender make, that husband of mine is known among people by the name of Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma and the foremost of the Kuru race. That virtuous prince of men granteth life to even a foe that yields. Therefore, O fool, throwing down thy arms and joining thy hands, run to him for thy good, to seek his protection. And that other man whom thou seest with long arms and tall as the full-grown _Sala_ tree, seated on his chariot, biting his lips, and contracting his forehead so as to bring the two eye-brows together, is he,--my husband Vrikodara! Steeds of the noblest breed, plump and strong, well-trained and endued with great might, draw the cars of that warrior! His achievements are superhuman. He is known, therefore, by the name of _Bhima_ on earth. They that offend him are never suffered to live. He never forgetteth a foe. On some pretext or other he wrecketh his vengeance. Nor is he pacified even after he has wrecked a signal vengeance. And there, that foremost of bowmen, endued with intelligence and renown, with senses under complete control and reverence for the old--that brother and disciple of Yudhishthira--is my husband Dhananjaya! Virtue he never forsaketh, from lust or fear or anger! Nor doth he ever commit a deed that is cruel. Endued with the energy of fire and capable of withstanding every foe, that grinder of enemies is the son of Kunti. And that other youth, versed in every question of morality and profit, who ever dispelleth the fears of the affrighted, who is endued with high wisdom, who is considered as the handsomest person in the whole world and who is protected by all the sons of Pandu, being regarded by them as dearer to them than their own lives for his unflinching devotion to them, is my husband Nakula possessed of great prowess. Endued with high wisdom and having Sahadeva for his second, possessed of exceeding lightness of hand, he fighteth with the sword, making dexterous passes therewith. Thou, foolish man, shall witness today his performances on the field of battle, like unto those of Indra amid the ranks of Daityas! And that hero skilled in weapons and possessed of intelligence and wisdom, and intent on doing what is agreeable to the son of Dharma, that favourite and youngest born of the Pandavas, is my husband Sahadeva! Heroic, intelligent, wise and ever wrathful there is not another man equal unto him in intelligence or in eloquence amid assemblies of the wise. Dearer to Kunti than her own soul, he is always mindful of the duties of Kshatriyas, and would much sooner rush into fire or sacrifice his own life than say anything that is opposed to religion and morals. When the sons of Pandu will have killed thy warriors in battle, then wilt thou behold thy army in the miserable plight of a ship on the sea wrecked with its freight of jewels on the back of a whale. Thus have I described unto thee the prowess of the sons of Pandu, disregarding whom in thy foolishness, thou hast acted so. If thou escapest unscathed from them, then, indeed thou wilt have obtained a new lease of life.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then those five sons of Pritha, each like unto Indra, filled with wrath, leaving the panic-stricken infantry alone who were imploring them for mercy, rushed furiously upon the charioteers, attacking them on all sides and darkening the very air with the thick shower of arrows they shot." SECTION CCLXIX Vaisampayana said, "Meanwhile, the king of Sindhu was giving orders to those princes, saying, 'Halt, strike, march, quick,' and like. And on seeing Bhima, Arjuna and the twin brothers with Yudhishthira, the soldiers sent up a loud shout on the field of battle. And the warriors of the Sivi, Sauvira and Sindhu tribes, at the sight of those powerful heroes looking like fierce tigers, lost heart. And Bhimasena, armed with a mace entirely of Saikya iron and embossed with gold, rushed towards the Saindhava monarch doomed to death. But Kotikakhya, speedily surrounding Vrikodara with an array of mighty charioteers, interposed between and separated the combatants. And Bhima, though assailed with numberless spears and clubs and iron arrows hurled at him by the strong arms of hostile heroes, did not waver for one moment. On the other hand, he killed, with his mace, an elephant with its driver and fourteen foot-soldiers fighting in the front of Jayadratha's car. And Arjuna also, desirous of capturing the Sauvira king, slew five hundred brave mountaineers fighting in the van of the Sindhu army. And in that encounter, the king himself slew in the twinkling of an eye, a hundred of the best warriors of the Sauviras. And Nakula too, sword in hand, jumping out of his chariot, scattered in a moment, like a tiller sowing seeds, the heads of the combatants fighting in the rear. And Sahadeva from his chariot began to fell with his iron shafts, many warriors fighting on elephants, like birds dropped from the boughs of a tree. Then the king of Trigartas, bow in hand descending from his great chariot, killed the four steeds of the king with his mace. But Kunti's son, king Yudhishthira the just, seeing the foe approach so near, and fighting on foot, pierced his breast with a crescent-shaped arrow. And that hero, thus wounded in the breast began to vomit blood, and fell down upon the ground besides Pritha's son, like an uprooted tree. And king Yudhishthira the just, whose steeds had been slain taking this opportunity, descended with Indrasena from his chariot and mounted that of Sahadeva. And the two warriors, Kshemankara and Mahamuksha, singling out Nakula, began to pour on him from both sides a perfect shower of keen-edged arrows. The son of Madri, however, succeeded in slaying, with a couple of long shafts, both those warriors who had been pouring on him an arrowy shower--like clouds in the rainy season. Suratha, the king of Trigartas, well-versed in elephant-charges, approaching the front of Nakula's chariot, caused it to be dragged by the elephant he rode. But Nakula, little daunted at this, leaped out of his chariot, and securing a point of vantage, stood shield and sword in hand, immovable as a hill. Thereupon Suratha, wishing to slay Nakula at once, urged towards him his huge and infuriate elephant with trunk upraised. But when the beast came near, Nakula with his sword severed from his head both trunk and tusks. And that mail-clad elephant, uttering a frightful roar, fell headlong upon the ground, crushing its riders by the fall. And having achieved this daring feat, the heroic son of Madri, getting up on Bhimasena's car, obtained a little rest. And Bhima too, seeing prince Kotikakhya rush to the encounter, cut off the head of his charioteer with a horse-shoe arrow. That prince did not even perceive that his driver was killed by his strong-armed adversary, and his horses, no longer restrained by a driver, ran about on the battle-field in all directions. And seeing that prince without a driver turn his back, that foremost of smiters, Bhima the son of Pandu, went up to him and slew him with a bearded dart. And Dhananjaya also cut off with his sharp crescent-shaped arrows, the heads, as well as the bows of all the twelve Sauvira heroes. And the great warrior killed in battle, with the arrow, the leaders of the Ikshwakus and the hosts of Sivis and Trigartas and Saindhavas. And a great many elephants with their colours, and chariots with standards, were seen to fall by the hand of Arjuna. And heads without trunks, and trunks without heads, lay covering the entire field of battle. And dogs, and herons and ravens, and crows, and falcons, and jackals, and vultures, feasted on the flesh and blood of warriors slain on that field. And when Jayadratha, the king of Sindhu, saw that his warriors were slain, he became terrified and anxious to run away leaving Krishna behind. And in that general confusion, the wretch, setting down Draupadi there, fled for his life, pursuing the same forest path by which he had come. And king Yudhishthira the just, seeing Draupadi with Dhaumya walking before, caused her to be taken up on a chariot by the heroic Sahadeva, the son of Madri. And when Jayadratha had fled away Bhima began to mow down with his iron-arrows such of his followers as were running away striking each trooper down after naming him. But Arjuna perceiving that Jayadratha had run away exhorted his brother to refrain from slaughtering the remnant of the Saindhava host. And Arjuna said, 'I do not find on the field of battle Jayadratha through whose fault alone we have experienced this bitter misfortune! Seek him out first and may success crown thy effort! What is the good of thy slaughtering these troopers? Why art thou bent upon this unprofitable business?'" Vaisampayana continued, "Bhimasena, thus exhorted by Arjuna of great wisdom, turning to Yudhishthira, replied, saying, 'As a great many of the enemy's warriors have been slain and as they are flying in all directions, do thou, O king, now return home, taking with thee Draupadi and the twin brothers and high-souled Dhaumya, and console the princess after getting back to our asylum! That foolish king of Sindhu I shall not let alone as long as he lives, even if he find a shelter in the infernal regions or is backed by Indra himself!' And Yudhishthira replied, saying, 'O thou of mighty arms remembering (our sister) Dussala and the celebrated Gandhari, thou shouldst not slay the king of Sindhu even though he is so wicked!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words, Draupadi was greatly excited. And that highly intelligent lady in her excitement said to her two husbands, Bhima and Arjuna with indignation mixed with modesty, 'If you care to do what is agreeable to me, you must slay that mean and despicable wretch, that sinful, foolish, infamous and contemptible chief of the Saindhava clan! That foe who forcibly carries away a wife, and he that wrests a kingdom, should never be forgiven on the battle-field, even though he should supplicate for mercy!' Thus admonished, those two valiant warriors went in search of the Saindhava chief. And the king taking Krishna with him returned home, accompanied by his spiritual adviser. And on entering the hermitage, he found it was laid over with seats for the ascetics and crowded with their disciples and graced with the presence of Markandeya and other Brahmanas. And while those Brahmanas were gravely bewailing the lot of Draupadi, Yudhishthira endued with great wisdom joined their company, with his brothers. And beholding the king thus come back after having defeated the Saindhava and the Sauvira host and recovered Draupadi, they were all elated with joy! And the king took his seat in their midst. And the excellent princess Krishna entered the hermitage with the two brothers. "Meanwhile Bhima and Arjuna, learning the enemy was full two miles ahead of them urged their horses to greater speed in pursuit of him. And the mighty Arjuna performed a wonderful deed, killing the horse of Jayadratha although they were full two miles ahead of them. Armed with celestial weapons undaunted by difficulties he achieved this difficult feat with arrows inspired with _Mantras_. And then the two warriors, Bhima and Arjuna, rushed towards the terrified king of Sindhu whose horses had been slain and who was alone and perplexed in mind. And the latter was greatly grieved on seeing his steeds slain. And beholding Dhananjaya do such a daring deed, and intent on running away, he followed the same forest track by which he had come. And Phalguna, seeing the Saindhava chief so active in his fright, overtook him and addressed him saying, 'Possessed of so little manliness, how couldst thou dare to take away a lady by force? Turn round, O prince; it is not meet that thou shouldst run away! How canst thou act so, leaving thy followers in the midst of thy foes?' Although addressed by the sons of Pritha thus, the monarch of Sindhu did not even once turn round. And then bidding him to what he chose the mighty Bhima overtook him in an instant, but the kind Arjuna entreated him not to kill that wretch." SECTION CCLXX Vaisampayana said, "Jayadratha flying for his life upon beholding those two brothers with upraised arms, was sorely grieved and bolted off with speed and coolness. But the mighty and indignant Bhimasena, descending from his chariot, ran after him thus fleeing, and seized him by the hair of his head. And holding him high up in the air, Bhima thrust him on the ground with violence. And seizing the prince by the head, he knocked him about. And when the wretch recovered consciousness, he groaned aloud and wanted to get up on his legs. But that hero endued with mighty arms kicked him on the head. And Bhima pressed him on the breast with his knees as well as with his fists. And the prince thus belaboured, soon became insensible. Then Phalguna dissuaded the wrathful Bhimasena from inflicting further chastisement on the prince, by reminding him of what Yudhishthira had said regarding (their sister) Dussala. But Bhima replied, saying, 'This sinful wretch hath done a cruel injury to Krishna, who never can bear such treatment. He, therefore, deserveth to die at my hands! But what can I do? The king is always overflowing with mercy, and thou, too, art constantly putting obstacles in my way from a childish sense of virtue!' Having said these words, Vrikodara, with his crescent-shaped arrow, shaved the hair of the prince's head, heaving five tufts in as many places. Jayadratha uttered not a word at this. Then Vrikodara, addressing the foe said, 'If thou wishest to live, listen to me. O fool! I shall tell thee the means to attain that wish! In public assemblies and in open courts thou must say,--I am the slave of the Pandavas.--on this condition alone, I will pardon thee thy life! This is the customary rule of conquest on the field of battle.' Thus addressed and treated, king Jayadratha said to the mighty and fierce warrior who always looked awful, 'Be it so!' And he was trembling and senseless and begrimed with dust. Then Arjuna and Vrikodara, securing him with chains, thrust him into a chariot. And Bhima, himself mounting that chariot, and accompanied by Arjuna, drove towards the hermitage. And approaching Yudhishthira seated there, he placed Jayadratha in that condition before the king. And the king, smiling, told him to set the Sindhu prince at liberty. Then Bhima said unto the king, 'Do thou tell Draupadi that this wretch hath become the slave of the Pandavas.' Then his eldest brother said unto him affectionately, 'If thou hast any regard for us, do thou set this wretch at liberty!' And Draupadi too, reading the king's mind, said, 'Let him off! He hath become a slave of the king's and thou, too, hast disfigured him by leaving five tufts of hair on his head.' Then that crest-fallen prince, having obtained his liberty, approached king Yudhishthira and bowed down unto him. And seeing those _Munis_ there, he saluted them also. Then the kind-hearted king Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, beholding Jayadratha in that condition, almost supported by Arjuna, said unto him, 'Thou art a free man now; I emancipate thee! Now go away and be careful not to do such thing again; shame to thee! Thou hadst intended to take away a lady by violence, even though thou art so mean and powerless! What other wretch save thee would think of acting thus?' Then that foremost king of Bharata's race eyed with pity that perpetrator of wicked deeds, and believing that he had lost his senses, said, 'Mayst thy heart grow in virtue! Never set thy heart again on immoral deeds! Thou mayst depart in peace now with thy charioteers, cavalry and infantry.' Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, the prince, O Bharata, was overpowered with shame, and bending down his head, he silently and sorrowfully wended his way to the place where the Ganga debouches on the plains. And imploring the protection of the god of three eyes, the consort of Uma, he did severe penance at that place. And the three-eyed god, pleased with his austerities deigned to accept his offerings in person. And he also granted him a boon! Do thou listen, O monarch, how the prince received that boon! Jayadratha, addressing that god, asked the boon, 'May I be able to defeat in battle all the five sons of Pandu on their chariots!' The god, however, told him 'This cannot be.' And Maheswara said, 'None can slay or conquer them in battle. Save Arjuna, however, thou shall be able to only check them (once) on the field of battle! The heroic Arjuna, with mighty arms, is the god incarnate styled _Nara_. He practised austerities of old in the Vadari forest. The God _Narayana_ is his friend. Therefore, he is unconquerable of the very gods. I myself have given him the celestial weapon called _Pasupata_. From the regents also of all the ten cardinal points, he has acquired the thunder-bolt and other mighty weapons. And the great god Vishnu who is the Infinite Spirit, the Lord Preceptor of all the gods, is the Supreme Being without attributes, and the Soul of the Universe, and existeth pervading the whole creation. At the termination of a cycle of ages, assuming the shape of the all-consuming fire, he consumed the whole Universe with mountains and seas and islands and hills and woods and forests. And after the destruction of the _Naga_ world also in the subterranean regions in the same way, vast masses of many-coloured and loud-pealing clouds, with streaks of lightning, spreading along the entire welkin, had appeared on high. Then pouring down water in torrents thick as axles of cars, and filling the space everywhere, these extinguishing that all-consuming fire! When at the close of four thousand _Yugas_ the Earth thus became flooded with water, like one vast sea, and all mobile creatures were hushed in death, and the sun and the moon and the winds were all destroyed, and the Universe was devoid of planets and stars, the Supreme Being called Narayana, unknowable by the senses, adorned with a thousand heads and as many eyes and legs, became desirous of rest. And the serpent Sesha, looking terrible with his thousand hoods, and shining with the splendour of ten thousand suns, and white as the _Kunda_ flower or the moon or a string of pearls, or the white lotus, or milk, or the fibres of a lotus stalk, served for his conch. And that adorable and omnipotent God thus slept on the bosom of the deep, enveloping all space with nocturnal gloom. And when his creative faculty was excited, he awoke and found the Universe denuded of everything. In this connection, the following _sloka_ is recited respecting the meaning of _Narayana_. "Water was created by (the _Rishi_) _Nara_, and it formed his corpus; therefore do we hear it styled as _Nara_. And because it formed his _Ayana_ (resting-place) therefore is he known as _Narayana_." As soon as that everlasting Being was engaged in meditation for the re-creation of the Universe, a lotus flower instantaneously came into existence from his navel, and the four-faced _Brahma_ came out of that navel-lotus. And then the Grandsire of all creatures, seating himself on that flower and finding that the whole Universe was a blank, created in his own likeness, and from his will, the (nine) great _Rishis, Marichi_ and others. And these in their turn observing the same thing, completed the creation, by creating _Yakshas, Rakshas, Pisachas_, reptiles, men, and all mobile and immobile creatures. The Supreme Spirit hath three conditions. In the form of Brahma, he is the Creator, and in the form of Vishnu he is the Preserver, and in his form as Rudra, he is the Destroyer of the Universe! O king of Sindhu, hast thou not heard of the wonderful achievements of Vishnu, described to thee by the _Munis_ and the Brahmanas learned in the _Vedas_? When the world was thus reduced to one vast sea of water, with only the heavens above, the Lord, like a fire-fly at night-time during the rainy season, moved about hither and thither in search of stable ground, with the view of rehabilitating his creation, and became desirous of raising the Earth submerged in water. _What shape shall I take to rescue the Earth from this flood!_--So thinking and contemplating with divine insight, he bethought himself of the shape of a wild boar fond of sporting in water. And assuming the shape of a sacrificial boar shining with effulgence and instinct with the _Vedas_ and ten _Yojanas_ in length, with pointed tusks and a complexion like dark clouds, and with a body huge as a mountain, and roaring like a conglomeration of clouds, the Lord plunged into the waters, and lifted up the Earth with one of his tusks, and replaced it in its proper sphere. At another time, the mighty Lord, assuming a wonderful form with a body half lion, half man, and squeezing his hands, repaired to the court of the ruler of the _Daityas_. That progenitor of the _Daityas_, the son of _Diti_, who was the enemy of the (gods), beholding the Lord's peculiar form, burst out into passion and his eyes became inflamed with rage. And Hiranya-Kasipu, the war-like son of Diti and the enemy of the gods, adorned with garlands and looking like a mass of dark clouds, taking up his trident in hand and roaring like the clouds, rushed on that being half lion, half man. Then that powerful king of wild beasts, half man, half lion, taking a leap in the air, instantly rent the _Daitya_ in twain by means of his sharp claws. And the adorable lotus-eyed Lord of great effulgence, having thus slain the _Daitya_ king for the well-being of all creatures, again took his birth in the womb of _Aditi_ as son of Kasyapa. And at the expiration of a thousand years she was delivered of that superhuman conception. And then was born that Being, of the hue of rain-charged clouds with bright eyes and of dwarfish stature. He had the ascetic's staff and water-pot in hand, and was marked with the emblem of a curl of hair on the breast. And that adorable Being wore matted locks and the sacrificial thread, and he was stout and handsome and resplendent with lustre. And that Being, arriving at the sacrificial enclosure of Vali, king of the _Danavas_, entered the sacrificial assembly with the aid of Vrihaspati. And beholding that dwarf-bodied Being, Vali was well-pleased and said unto him, "I am glad to see thee, O Brahmana! Say what is it that thou wantest from me!" Thus addressed by Vali, the dwarf-god replied with a smile, saying, "So be it! Do thou, lord of the _Danavas_, give me three paces of ground!" And Vali contented to give what that Brahmana of infinite power had asked. And while measuring with his paces the space he sought, Hari assumed a wonderful and extraordinary form. And with only three paces he instantly covered this illimitable world. And then that everlasting God, Vishnu, gave it away unto Indra. This history which has just been related to thee, is celebrated as the "_Incarnation of the Dwarf_." And from him, all the gods had their being, and after him the world is said to be _Vaishnava_, or pervaded by Vishnu. And for the destruction of the wicked and the preservation of religion, even He hath taken his birth among men in the race of the Yadus. And the adorable Vishnu is styled Krishna. These, O king of Sindhu, are the achievements of the Lord whom all the worlds worship and whom the learned describe as without beginning and without end, unborn and Divine! They call Him, the unconquerable Krishna with conchshell, discus and mace, and adorned with the emblem of a curl of hair, Divine, clad in silken robes of yellow hue, and the best of those versed in the art of war. Arjuna is protected by Krishna the possessor of these attributes. That glorious and lotus-eyed Being of infinite power, that slayer of hostile heroes, riding in the same chariot with Pritha's son, protecteth him! He is, therefore, invincible; the very gods cannot resist his power, still less can one with human attributes vanquish the son of Pritha in battle! Therefore, O king, thou must let him alone! Thou shalt, however, be able to vanquish for a single day only, the rest of Yudhishthira's forces along with thine enemies--the four sons of Pandu!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said these words unto that prince, the adorable Hara of three eyes, the destroyer of all sins, the consort of Uma, and lord of wild beasts, the destroyer of (Daksha's) sacrifice, the slayer of Tripura and He that had plucked out the eyes of Bhaga, surrounded by his dwarfish and hunch-backed and terrible followers having frightful eyes and ears and uplifted arms, vanished, O tiger among kings, from that place with his consort Uma! And the wicked Jayadratha also returned home, and the sons of Pandu continued to dwell in the forest of Kamyaka." SECTION CCLXXI Janamejaya said, "What did those tigers among men, the Pandavas, do, after they had suffered such misery in consequence of the ravishment of Draupadi?" Vaisampayana said, "Having defeated Jayadratha and rescued Krishna, the virtuous king Yudhishthira took his seat by the side of that best of _Munis_. And among those foremost of ascetics who were expressing their grief upon hearing Draupadi's misfortune, Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, addressed Markandeya, saying, 'O adorable Sire, amongst the gods and the ascetics, thou art known to have the fullest knowledge of both the past as well as the future. A doubt existeth in my mind, which I would ask thee to solve! This lady is the daughter of Drupada; she hath issued from the sacrificial altar and hath not been begotten of the flesh; and she is highly blessed and is also the daughter-in-law of the illustrious Pandu. I incline to think that Time, and human Destiny that dependeth on our acts, and the Inevitable, are irresistible in respect of creatures. (If it were not so), how could such a misfortune afflict this wife of ours so faithful and virtuous, like a false accusation of theft against an honest man? The daughter of Drupada hath never committed any sinful act, nor hath she done anything that is not commendable: on the contrary, she hath assiduously practised the highest virtues towards Brahmanas. And yet the foolish king Jayadratha had carried her away by force. In consequence of this act of violence on her, that sinful wretch hath his hair shaved off his head and sustained also, with all his allies, defeat in battle. It is true we have rescued her after slaughtering the troops of Sindhu. But the disgrace of this ravishment of our wife during our hours of carelessness, hath stained us, to be sure. This life in the wilderness is full of miseries. We subsist by chase; and though dwelling in the woods, we are obliged to slay the denizens thereof that live with us! This exile also that we suffer is due to the act of deceitful kinsmen! Is there any one who is more unfortunate than I am? Hath thou ever seen or heard of such a one before?'" SECTION CCLXXII "Markandeya said, 'O bull of the Bharata race, even Rama suffered unparalleled misery, for the evil-minded Ravana, king of the Rakshasas, having recourse to deceit and overpowering the vulture Jatayu, forcibly carried away his wife Sita from his asylum in the woods. Indeed, Rama, with the help of Sugriva, brought her back, constructing a bridge across the sea, and consuming Lanka with his keen-edged arrows.' "Yudhishthira said, 'In what race was Rama born and what was the measure of his might and prowess? Whose son also was Ravana and for what was it that he had any misunderstanding with Rama? It behoveth thee, O illustrious one, to tell me all this in detail; for I long to hear the story of Rama of great achievements!' "Markandeya said, 'Listen, O prince of Bharata's race, to this old history exactly as it happened! I will tell thee all about the distress suffered by Rama together with his wife. There was a great king named Aja sprung from the race of Ikshwaku. He had a son named Dasaratha who was devoted to the study of the Vedas and was ever pure. And Dasaratha had four sons conversant with morality and profit known by the names, respectively, of Rama, Lakshmana, Satrughna, and the mighty Bharata. And Rama had for his mother Kausalya, and Bharata had for his mother Kaikeyi, while those scourges of their enemies Lakshmana and Satrughna were the sons of Sumitra. And Janaka was the king of Videha, and Sita was his daughter. And Tashtri himself created her, desiring to make her the beloved wife of Rama. I have now told thee the history of both Rama's and Sita's birth. And now, O king, I will relate unto thee the birth of Ravana. That Lord of all creatures and the Creator of the Universe viz., the Self-create Prajapati himself--that god possessed of great ascetic merit--is the grandfather of Ravana. And Pulastya hath a mighty son called Vaisravana begotten of a cow. But his son, leaving his father, went to his grandfather. And, O king, angered at this, his father then created a second self of himself. And with half of his own self that regenerate one became born of Visrava for wrecking a vengeance on Vaisravana. But the Grandsire, pleased with Vaisravana, gave him immortality, and sovereignty of all the wealth of the Universe, the guardianship of one of the cardinal points, the friendship of Isana, and a son named Nalakuvera. And he also gave him for his capital Lanka, which was guarded by hosts of Rakshasas, and also a chariot called Pushpaka capable of going everywhere according to the will of the rider. And the kingship of the Yakshas and the sovereignty over sovereigns were also his.'" SECTION CCLXXIII "Markandeya said, 'The Muni named Visrava, who was begotten of half the soul of Pulastya, in a fit of passion, began to look upon Vaisravana with great anger. But, O monarch, Kuvera, the king of the Rakshasas, knowing that his father was angry with him, always sought to please him. And, O best of Bharata's race, that king of kings living in Lanka, and borne upon the shoulders of men, sent three Rakshasa women to wait upon his father. Their names, O king, were Pushpotkata, Raka and Malini. And they were skilled in singing and dancing and were always assiduous in their attentions on that high-souled Rishi. And those slender-waisted ladies vied with one another, O king, in gratifying the Rishi. And that high-souled and adorable being was pleased with them and granted them boons. And to every one of them he gave princely sons according to their desire. Two sons--those foremost of Rakshasas named Kumvakarna and the Ten-headed Ravana,--both unequaled on earth in prowess, were born to Pushpotkata. And Malini had a son named Vibhishana, and Raka had twin children named Khara and Surpanakha. And Vibhishana surpassed them all in beauty. And that excellent person was very pious and assiduously performed all religious rites. But that foremost of Rakshasas, with ten heads, was the eldest to them all. And he was religious, and energetic and possessed of great strength and prowess. And the Rakshasa Kumvakarna was the most powerful in battle, for he was fierce and terrible and a thorough master of the arts of illusion. And Khara was proficient in archery, and hostile to the Brahmanas, subsisting as he did on flesh. And the fierce Surpanakha was constant source of trouble to the ascetics. And the warriors, learned in the Vedas and diligent in ceremonial rites, all lived with their father in the Gandhamadana. And there they beheld Vaisravana seated with their father, possessed of riches and borne on the shoulders of men. And seized with jealousy, they resolved upon performing penances. And with ascetic penances of the most severe kind, they gratified Brahma. And the Ten-headed Ravana, supporting life by means of air alone and surrounded by the five sacred fires and absorbed in meditation, remained standing on one leg for a thousand years. And Kumvakarna with head downwards, and with restricted diet, was constant in austerities. And the wise and magnanimous Vibhishana, observing fasts and subsisting only on dry leaves and engaged in meditation, practised severe austerities for a long period. And Khara and Surpanakha, with cheerful hearts, protected and attended on them while they were performing those austerities. And at the close of a thousand years, the invincible Ten-headed One, cutting off his own heads, offered them as offering to the sacred fire. And at this act of his, the Lord of the Universe was pleased with him. And then Brahma, personally appearing to them, bade them desist from those austerities and promised to grant boons unto every one of them. And the adorable Brahma said, "I am pleased with you, my sons! Cease now from these austerities and ask boons of me! Whatever your desires may be, they, with the single exception of that of immortality, will be fulfilled! As thou hast offered thy heads to the fire from great ambition, they will again adorn thy body as before, according to thy desire. And thy body will not be disfigured and thou shall be able to assume any form according to thy desire and become the conqueror of thy foes in battle. There is no doubt of this!" thereupon Ravana said, "May I never experience defeat at the hands of Gandharvas, Celestials, Kinnaras, Asuras, Yakshas, Rakshasas, Serpents and all other creatures!" Brahma said, "From those that hast named, thou shalt never have cause of fear; except from men (thou shalt have no occasion for fear). Good betide thee! So hath it been ordained by me!"' "Markandeya said, 'Thus addressed, the Ten-headed (Ravana) was highly gratified, for on account of his perverted understanding, the man-eating one slighted human beings. Then the great Grandsire addressed Kumbhakarna as before. His reason being clouded by darkness, he asked for long-lasting sleep. Saying, "It shall be so!" Brahma then addressed Vibhishana, "O my son, I am much pleased with thee! Ask any boon thou pleasest!" Thereupon, Vibhishana replied, "Even in great danger, may I never swerve from the path of righteousness, and though ignorant, may I, O adorable Sire, be illumined with the light of divine knowledge!" And Brahma replied, "O scourge of thy enemies, as thy soul inclines not to unrighteousness although born in the _Rakshasa race_, I grant thee immortality!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Having obtained this boon, the Ten-headed Rakshasa defeated Kuvera in battle and obtained from him the sovereignty of Lanka. That adorable Being, leaving Lanka and followed by Gandharvas, Yakshas, Rakshas, and Kinnaras, went to live on mount Gandhamadana. And Ravana forcibly took from him the celestial chariot _Pushpaka_. And upon this Vaisravana cursed him, saying, "This chariot shall never carry thee; it shall bear him who will slay thee in battle! And as thou hast insulted me, thy elder brother, thou shalt soon die!" "'The pious Vibhishana, O King, treading in the path followed by the virtuous and possessed of great glory, followed Kuvera. That adorable Lord of wealth, highly pleased with his younger brothers, invested him with the command of the Yaksha and Raksha hosts. On the other hand, the powerful and man-eating _Rakshasas_ and _Pisachas_, having assembled together, invested the Ten-headed Ravana with their sovereignty. And Ravana, capable of assuming any form at will and terrible in prowess, and capable also of passing through the air, attacked the gods and the _Daityas_ and wrested from them all their valuable possessions. And as he had terrified all creatures, he was called _Ravana_. And Ravana, capable of mustering any measure of might inspired the very gods with terror.'" SECTION CCLXXIV "Markandeya said, 'Then the _Brahmarshis_, the _Siddhas_ and the _Devarshis_, with _Havyavaha_ as their spokesman, sought the protection of Brahma. And Agni said, "That powerful son of Visrava, the Ten-headed cannot be slain on account of thy boon! Endued with great might he oppresseth in every possible way the creatures of the earth. Protect us, therefore, O adorable one! There is none else save thee to protect us!" "'Brahma said, "O Agni, he cannot be conquered in battle by either the gods or the _Asuras_! I have already ordained that which is needful for that purpose. Indeed his death is near! Urged by me, the four-headed God hath already been incarnate for that object. Even Vishnu, that foremost of smiters will achieve that object!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Then the Grandsire also asked Sakra, in their presence, "Be thou, with all the celestials, born on earth! And beget ye on monkeys and bears, heroic sons possessed of great strength and capable of assuming any form at will as allies of Vishnu!" And at this, the gods, the _Gandharvas_ and the _Danavas_ quickly assembled to take counsel as to how they should be born on earth according to their respective parts. And in their presence the boon-giving god commanded a _Gandharvi_, by name Dundubhi saying, "Go there for accomplishing this object!" And Dundubhi hearing these words of the Grandsire was born in the world of men as the hunchbacked _Manthara_. And all the principal celestials, with Sakra and others begot offspring upon the wives of the foremost of monkeys and bears. And those sons equaled their sires in strength and fame. And they were capable of splitting mountain peaks and their weapons were stones and trees of the _Sala_ and the _Tala_ species. And their bodies were hard as adamant, and they were possessed of very great strength. And they were all skilled in war and capable of mustering any measure of energy at will. And they were equal to a thousand elephants in might, and they resembled the wind in speed. And some of them lived wherever they liked, while others lived in forests. And the adorable Creator of the Universe, having ordained all this, instructed _Manthara_ as to what she would have to do. And Manthara quick as thought, understood all his words, and went hither and thither ever engaged in fomenting quarrels.'" SECTION CCLXXV "Yudhishthira said, 'O adorable one, thou hast described to me in detail the history of the birth of Rama and others. I wish to learn the cause of their exile. Do thou, O Brahmana, relate why the sons of Dasaratha--the brothers Rama and Lakshmana--went to the forest with famous princess of Mithila.' "Markandeya said, 'The pious king Dasaratha, ever mindful of the old and assiduous in religious ceremonies, was greatly pleased when these sons were born. And his sons gradually grew up in might and they became conversant with the Vedas together with all their mysteries, and with the science of arms. And when after having gone through the Brahmacharya vows the princes were married, king Dasaratha became happy and highly pleased. And the intelligent Rama, the eldest of them all, became the favourite of his father, and greatly pleased the people with his charming ways. And then, O Bharata, the wise king, considering himself old in years took counsel with his virtuous ministers and spiritual adviser for installing Rama as regent of the kingdom. And all those great ministers were agreed that it was time to do so. And, O scion of Kuru's race, king Dasaratha was greatly pleased to behold his son,--that enhancer of Kausalya's delight--possessed of eyes that were red, and arms that were sinewy. And his steps were like those of a wild elephant. And he had long arms and high shoulders and black and curly hair. And he was valiant, and glowing with splendour, and not inferior to Indra himself in battle. And he was well-versed in holy writ and was equal to Vrihaspati in wisdom. An object of love with all the people, he was skilled in every science. And with senses under complete control, his very enemies were pleased to behold him. And he was terror of the wicked and the protector of the virtuous. And possessed of intelligence and incapable of being baffled, he was victorious over all and never vanquished by any. And, O descendant of Kurus, beholding his son--that enhancer of Kausalya's joy--king Dasaratha became highly pleased. And reflecting on Rama's virtues, the powerful and mighty king cheerfully addressed the family priest, saying, "Blessed be thou, O Brahmana! This night of the Pushya constellation will bring in a very auspicious conjunction. Let, therefore, materials be collected and let Rama also be invited. This Pushya constellation will last till tomorrow. And Rama, therefore, should be invested by me and my ministers as prince-regent of all my subjects!" "'Meanwhile Manthara (the maid of Kaikeyi), hearing these words of the king, went to her mistress, and spoke unto her as was suited to the occasion. And she said, "Thy great ill-luck, O Kaikeyi, hath this day been proclaimed by the king! O unlucky one, mayst thou be bitten by a fierce and enraged snake of virulent poison! Kausalya, indeed, is fortunate, as it is her son that is going to be installed on the throne. Where, indeed, is thy prosperity, when thy son obtaineth not the kingdom?" "'Hearing these words of her maid, the slender-waisted and beautiful Kaikeyi put on all her ornaments, and sought her husband in a secluded place. And with a joyous heart, and smiling pleasantly, she addressed these words to him with all the blandishments of love, "O king, thou art always true to thy promises. Thou didst promise before to grant me an object of my desire. Do thou fulfil that promise now and save thyself from the sin of unredeemed pledge!" The king replied, saying, "I will grant thee a boon. Ask thou whatever thou wishest! What man undeserving of death shall be slain today and who that deserves death is to be set at liberty? Upon whom shall I bestow wealth to-day, or whose wealth shall be confiscated? Whatever wealth there is in this world, save what belongeth to Brahmanas, is mine! I am the king of kings in this world, and the protector of all the four classes! Tell me quickly, O blessed lady, what that object is upon which thou hast set thy heart!" Hearing these words of the king, and tying him fast to his pledge, and conscious also of her power over him, she addressed him in these words, "I desire that Bharata be the recipient of that investiture which thou hast designed for Rama, and let Rama go into exile living in the forest of Dandaka for fourteen years as an ascetic with matted locks on head and robed in rags and deer-skins!" Hearing these disagreeable words of cruel import, the king, O chief of the Bharata race, was sorely afflicted and became utterly speechless! But the mighty and virtuous Rama, learning that his father had been thus solicited, went into the forest so that the king's truth might remain inviolate. And, blessed be thou, he was followed by the auspicious Lakshmana--that foremost of bowmen and his wife Sita, the princess of Videha and daughter of Janaka. And after Rama had gone into the forest, king Dasaratha took leave of his body, agreeably to the eternal law of time. And knowing that Rama not near and that the king was dead, queen Kaikeyi, causing Bharata to be brought before her, addressed him in these words, "Dasaratha hath gone to heaven and both Rama and Lakshmana are in the forest! Take thou this kingdom which is so extensive and whose peace there is no rival to disturb." Thereupon the virtuous Bharata replied unto her saying, "Thou hast done a wicked deed, having slain thy husband and exterminated this family from lust of wealth alone! Heaping infamy on my head, O accursed woman of our race, thou hast, O mother, attained this, thy object!" And having said these words, the prince wept aloud. And having proved his innocence before all the subjects of that realm he set out in the wake of Rama, desiring to bring him back. And placing Kausalya and Sumitra and Kaikeyi in the vehicles at the van of his train, he proceeded with a heavy heart, in company with Satrughna. And he was accompanied by Vasishtha and Vamadeva, and other Brahmanas by thousands and by the people of the cities and the provinces, desiring to bring back Rama. And he saw Rama with Lakshmana, living on the mountains of Chitrakuta with bow in hand and decked with the ornaments of ascetics. Bharata, however, was dismissed by Rama, who was determined to act according to the words of his father. And returning, Bharata ruled at Nandigrama, keeping before him, his brother's wooden sandals. And Rama fearing a repetition of intrusion by the people of Ayodhya, entered into the great forest towards the asylum of Sarabhanga. And having paid his respects to Sarabhanga, he entered the forest of Dandaka and took up his abode on the banks of beautiful river Godavari. And while living there, Rama was inveigled into hostilities with Khara, then dwelling in Janasthana, on account of Surpanakha. And for the protection of the ascetics the virtuous scion of Raghu's race slew fourteen thousand Rakshasas on earth, and having slain those mighty Rakshasas, Khara and Dushana, the wise descendant of Raghu once more made that sacred forest free from danger. "'And after these Rakshasas had been slain, Surpanakha with mutilated nose and lips, repaired to Lanka--the abode of her brother (Ravana). And when that Rakshasa woman, senseless with grief and with dry blood-stains on her face, appeared before Ravana, she fell down at his feet. And beholding her so horribly mutilated, Ravana became senseless with wrath and grinding his teeth sprung up from his seat. And dismissing his ministers, he enquired of her in private, saying, "Blessed sister, who hath made thee so, forgetting and disregarding me? Who is he that having got a sharp-pointed spear hath rubbed his body with it? Who is he that sleepeth in happiness and security, after placing a fire close to his head? Who is he that hath trodden upon a revengeful snake of virulent poison? Who indeed, is that person who standeth with his hand thrust into the mouth of the maned lion!" Then flames of wrath burst forth from his body, like those that are emitted at night from the hollows of a tree on fire. His sister then related unto him the prowess of Rama and the defeat of the Rakshasas with Khara and Dushana at their head. Informed of the slaughter of his relatives, Ravana, impelled by Fate, remembered Maricha for slaying Rama. And resolving upon the course he was to follow and having made arrangements for the government of his capital, he consoled his sister, and set out on an aerial voyage. And crossing the Trikuta and the Kala mountains, he beheld the vast receptacle of deep waters--the abode of the Makaras. Then crossing the Ocean, the Ten headed Ravana reached Gokarna--the favourite resort of the illustrious god armed with the trident. And there Ravana met with his old friend Maricha who, from fear of Rama himself, had adopted an ascetic mode of life.'" SECTION CCLXXVI "Markandeya said, 'Beholding Ravana come, Maricha received him with a respectful welcome, and offered him fruits and roots. And after Ravana had taken his seat, and rested himself a while, Maricha skilled in speech, sat beside Ravana and addressed him who was himself as eloquent in speech, saying, "Thy complexion hath assumed an unnatural hue; is it all right with thy kingdom, O king of the Rakshasas? What hath brought thee here? Do thy subjects continue to pay thee the same allegiance that they used to pay thee before? What business hath brought thee here? Know that it is already fulfilled, even if it be very difficult of fulfilment!" Ravana, whose heart was agitated with wrath and humiliation informed him briefly of the acts of Rama and the measures that were to be taken. And on hearing his story, Maricha briefly replied to him, saying, "Thou must not provoke Rama, for I know his strength! Is there a person who is capable of withstanding the impetus of his arrows? That great man hath been the cause of my assuming my present ascetic life. What evil-minded creature hath put thee up to this course calculated to bring ruin and destruction on thee?" To this Ravana indignantly replied, reproaching him thus, "If thou dost not obey my orders, thou shall surely die at my hands." Maricha then thought within himself, "When death is inevitable, I shall do his biddings; for it is better to die at the hands of one that is superior." Then he replied to the lord of the Rakshasas saying, "I shall surely render thee whatever help I can!" Then the Ten-headed Ravana said unto him, "Go and tempt Sita, assuming the shape of a deer with golden horns and a golden skin! When Sita will observe thee thus, she will surely send away Rama to hunt thee. And then Sita will surely come within my power, and I shall forcibly carry her away. And then that wicked Rama will surely die of grief at the loss of his wife. Do thou help me in this way!" "'Thus addressed, Maricha performed his obsequies (in anticipation) and with a sorrowful heart, followed Ravana who was in advance of him. And having reached the hermitage of Rama of difficult achievements, they both did as arranged beforehand. And Ravana appeared in the guise of an ascetic with head shaven, and adorned with a _Kamandala_, and a treble staff. And Maricha appeared in the shape of a deer. And Maricha appeared before the princess of Videha in that guise. And impelled by Fate, she sent away Rama after that deer. And Rama, with the object of pleasing her, quickly took up his bow, and leaving Lakshmana behind to protect her, went in pursuit of that deer. And armed with his bow and quiver and scimitar, and his fingers encased in gloves of _Guana_ skin, Rama went in pursuit of that deer, after the manner of Rudra following the stellar deer[50] in days of yore. And that Rakshasa enticed away Rama to a great distance by appearing before him at one time and disappearing from his view at another. And when Rama at last knew who and what that deer was, viz., that he was a _Rakshasa_, that illustrious descendant of Raghu's race took out an infallible arrow and slew that Rakshasa, in the disguise of a deer. And struck with Rama's arrow, the Rakshasa, imitating Rama's voice, cried out in great distress, calling upon Sita and Lakshmana. And when the princess of Videha heard that cry of distress, she urged Lakshmana to run towards the quarter from whence the cry came. Then Lakshmana said to her, "Timid lady, thou hast no cause of fear! Who is so powerful as to be able to smite Rama? O thou of sweet smiles, in a moment thou wilt behold thy husband Rama!" Thus addressed, the chaste Sita, from that timidity which is natural to women, became suspicious of even the pure Lakshmana, and began to weep aloud. And that chaste lady, devoted to her husband, harshly reproved Lakshmana, saying, "The object which thou, O fool, cherishest in thy heart, shall never be fulfilled! I would rather kill myself with a weapon or throw myself from the top of a hill or enter into a blazing fire than live with a sorry wretch like thee, forsaking my husband Rama, like a tigress under the protection of a jackal!" [50] Tard-mrigam. Formerly Prajapati, assuming the Form of a deer, followed his daughter from lust, and Rudra, armed with a trident, pursued Prajapati and struck off his head. That deer-head of Prajapati severed from the trunk, became the star, or rather constellation, called Mrigasiras. "'When the good natured Lakshmana, who was very fond of his brother, heard these words, he shut his ears (with his hands) and set out on the track that Rama had taken. And Lakshmana set out without casting a single glance on that lady with lips soft and red like the _Bimba_ fruit. Meanwhile, the Rakshasa Ravana, wearing a genteel guise though wicked at heart, and like unto fire enveloped in a heap of ashes, showed himself there. And he appeared there in the disguise of a hermit, for forcibly carrying away that lady of blameless character. The virtuous daughter of Janaka, seeing him come, welcomed him with fruits and root and a seat. Disregarding these and assuming his own proper shape, that bull among Rakshasas began to re-assure the princess of Videha in these words, "I am, O Sita, the king of the Rakshasas, known by the name of Ravana! My delightful city, known by the name of Lanka is on the other side of the great ocean! There among beautiful women, thou wilt shine with me! O lady of beautiful lips, forsaking the ascetic Rama do thou become my wife!" Janaka's daughter of beautiful lips, hearing these and other words in the same strain, shut her ears and replied unto him, saying, "Do not say so! The vault of heaven with all its stars may fall down, the Earth itself may be broken into fragments, fire itself may change its nature by becoming cool, yet I cannot forsake the descendant of Raghu! How can a she-elephant, who hath lived with the mighty leader of a herd with rent temples forsake him and live with a hog? Having once tasted the sweet wine prepared from honey or flowers, how can a woman, I fancy, relish the wretched arrak from rice?" Having uttered those words, she entered the cottage, her lips trembling in wrath and her arms moving to and fro in emotion. Ravana, however, followed her thither and intercepted her further progress. And rudely scolded by the Rakshasa, she swooned away. But Ravana seized her by the hair of her head, and rose up into the air. Then a huge vulture of the name of Jatayu living on a mountain peak, beheld that helpless lady thus weeping and calling upon Rama in great distress while being carried away by Ravana.'" SECTION CCLXXVII "Markandeya said, 'That heroic king of the vultures, Jatayu, having Sampati for his uterine brother and Arjuna himself for his father, was a friend of Dasaratha. And beholding his daughter-in-law Sita on the lap of Ravana, that ranger of the skies rushed in wrath against the king of the Rakshasas. And the vulture addressed Ravana, saying, "Leave the princess of Mithila, leave her I say! How canst thou, O Rakshasa, ravish her when I am alive? If thou dost not release my daughter-in-law, thou shalt not escape from me with life!" And having said these words Jatayu began to tear the king of the Rakshasas with his talons. And he mangled him in a hundred different parts of his body by striking him with his wings and beaks. And blood began to flow as copiously from Ravana's body as water from a mountain spring. And attacked thus by that vulture desirous of Rama's good, Ravana, taking up a sword, cut off the two wings of that bird. And having slain that king of the vultures, huge as a mountain-peak shooting forth above the clouds, the Rakshasa rose high in the air with Sita on his lap. And the princess of Videha, wherever she saw an asylum of ascetics, a lake, a river, or a tank, threw down an ornament of hers. And beholding on the top of a mountain five foremost of monkeys, that intelligent lady threw down amongst them a broad piece of her costly attire. And that beautiful and yellow piece of cloth fell, fluttering through the air, amongst those five foremost of monkeys like lightning from the clouds. And that Rakshasa soon passed a great way through the firmament like a bird through the air. And soon the Rakshasa beheld his delightful and charming city of many gates, surrounded on all sides by high walls and built by Viswakrit himself. And the king of the Rakshasa then entered his own city known by the name of Lanka, accompanied by Sita. "'And while Sita was being carried away, the intelligent Rama, having slain the great deer, retraced his steps and saw his brother Lakshmana (on the way). And beholding his brother, Rama reproved him, saying, "How couldst thou come hither, leaving the princess of Videha in a forest that is haunted by the Rakshasa?" And reflecting on his own enticement to a great distance by that Rakshasa in the guise of a deer and on the arrival of his brother (leaving Sita alone in the asylum), Rama was filled with agony. And quickly advancing towards Lakshmana while reproving him still, Rama asked him, "O Lakshmana, is the princess of Videha still alive? I fear she is no more!" Then Lakshmana told him everything about what Sita had said, especially that unbecoming language of hers subsequently. With a burning heart Rama then ran towards the asylum. And on the way he beheld a vulture huge as a mountain, lying in agonies of death. And suspecting him to be a Rakshasa, the descendant of the Kakutstha race, along with Lakshmana rushed towards him, drawing with great force his bow to a circle. The mighty vulture, however, addressing them both, said, "Blessed be ye, I am the king of the vultures, and friend of Dasaratha!" Hearing these words of his, both Rama and his brother put aside their excellent bow and said, "Who is this one that speaketh the name of our father in these woods?" And then they saw that creature to be a bird destitute of two wings, and that bird then told them of his own overthrow at the hands of Ravana for the sake of Sita. Then Rama enquired of the vulture as to the way Ravana had taken. The vulture answered him by a nod of his head and then breathed his last. And having understood from the sign the vulture had made that Ravana had gone towards the south, Rama reverencing his father's friend, caused his funeral obsequies to be duly performed. Then those chastisers of foes, Rama and Lakshmana, filled with grief at the abduction of the princess of Videha, took a southern path through the Dandaka woods beholding along their way many uninhabited asylums of ascetics, scattered over with seats of Kusa grass and umbrellas of leaves and broken water-pots, and abounding with hundreds of jackals. And in that great forest, Rama along with Sumatra's son beheld many herds of deer running in all directions. And they heard a loud uproar of various creatures like what is heard during a fast spreading forest conflagration. And soon they beheld a headless Rakshasa of terrible mien. And that Rakshasa was dark as the clouds and huge as a mountain, with shoulders broad as those of a Sola tree, and with arms that were gigantic. And he had a pair of large eyes on his breast, and the opening of his mouth was placed on his capacious belly. And that Rakshasa seized Lakshmana by the hand, without any difficulty. And seized by the Rakshasa the son of Sumitra, O Bharata, became utterly confounded and helpless. And casting his glances on Rama, that headless Rakshasa began to draw Lakshmana towards that part of his body where his mouth was. And Lakshmana in grief addressed Rama, saying, "Behold my plight! The loss of thy kingdom, and then the death of our father, and then the abduction of Sita, and finally this disaster that hath overwhelmed me! Alas, I shall not behold thee return with the princess of Videha to Kosala and seated on thy ancestral throne as the ruler of the entire Earth! They only that are fortunate will behold thy face, like unto the moon emerged from the clouds, after thy coronation bath in water sanctified with Kusa grass and fried paddy and black peas!" And the intelligent Lakshmana uttered those and other lamentations in the same strain. The illustrious descendant, however, of Kakutstha's race undaunted amid danger, replied unto Lakshmana, saying, "Do not, O tiger among men, give way to grief! What is this thing when I am here? Cut thou off his right arm and I shall cut off his left." And while Rama was still speaking so, the left arm of the monster was severed by him, cut off with a sharp scimitar, as if indeed, that arm were a stalk of the _Tila corn_. The mighty son of Sumitra then beholding his brother standing before him struck off with his sword the right arm also of that Rakshasa. And Lakshmana also began to repeatedly strike the Rakshasa under the ribs, and then that huge headless monster fell upon the ground and expired quickly. And then there came out from the Rakshasa's body a person of celestial make. And he showed himself to the brothers, staying for a moment in the skies, like the Sun in his effulgence in the firmament. And Rama skilled in speech, asked him, saying, "Who art thou? Answer _me_ who enquire of thee? Whence could such a thing happen? All this seems to me to be exceedingly wonderful!" Thus addressed by Rama, that being replied unto him, saying, "I am, O prince, a Gandharva of the name of Viswavasu! It was through the curse of a Brahmana that I had to assume the form and nature of a Rakshasa. As to thyself, O Rama, Sita hath been carried away with violence by king Ravana who dwelleth in Lanka. Repair thou unto Sugriva who will give thee his friendship. There, near enough to the peak of _Rishyamuka_ is the lake known by the name of _Pampa_ of sacred water and cranes. There dwelleth, with four of his counsellors, Sugriva, the brother of the monkey-king Vali decked with a garland of gold. Repairing unto him, inform of thy cause of sorrow. In plight very much like thy own, he will render thee assistance. This is all that we can say. Thou wilt, without doubt, see the daughter of Janaka! Without doubt Ravana and others are known to the king of the monkeys!" Having said these words, that celestial being of great effulgence made himself invisible, and those heroes, both Rama and Lakshmana, wondered much.'" SECTION CCLXXVIII "Markandeya said, 'Afflicted with grief at the abduction of Sita, Rama had not to go much further before he came upon _Pampa_--that lake which abounded with lotuses of various kinds. And fanned by the cool, delicious and fragrant breezes in those woods, Rama suddenly remembered his dear spouse. And, O mighty monarch, thinking of that dear wife of his, and afflicted at the thought of his separation from her, Rama gave way to lamentations. The son of Sumitra then addressed him saying, "O thou that givest proper respect to those that deserve it, despondency such as this should not be suffered to approach thee, like illness that can never touch an old man leading a regular life! Thou hast obtained information of Ravana and of the princess of Videha! Liberate her now with exertion and intelligence! Let us now approach Sugriva, that foremost of monkeys, who is even now on the mountain top! Console thyself, when I, thy disciple and slave and ally, am near!" And addressed by Lakshmana in these and other words of the same import, Rama regained his own nature and attended to the business before him. And bathing in the waters of _Pampa_ and offering oblations therewith unto their ancestors, both those heroic brothers, Rama and Lakshmana, set out (for _Rishyamuka_). And arriving at _Rishyamuka_ which abounded with fruits and roots and trees, those heroes beheld five monkeys on the top of the mountain-peak. And seeing them approach, Sugriva sent his counsellor the intelligent Hanuman, huge as the Himavat-mountains, to receive them. And the brothers, having first exchanged words with Hanuman, approached Sugriva. And then, O king, Rama made friends with Sugriva. And when Rama informed Sugriva of the object he had in view, Sugriva showed him the piece of cloth that Sita had dropped among the monkeys, while being carried away by Ravana. And having obtained from him those credentials, Rama himself installed Sugriva--that foremost of monkeys--in sovereignty of all the monkeys of Earth. And Rama also pledged himself to slay Vali in battle. And having come to that understanding and placing the fullest confidence in each other, they all repaired to _Kiskindhya_, desirous of battle (with Vali). And arriving at _Kiskindhya_, Sugriva sent forth a loud roar deep as that of a cataract. Unable to bear that challenge, Vali was for coming out (but his wife) Tara stood in way, saying, "Himself endued with great strength, the way in which Sugriva is roaring, showeth, I ween, that he hath found assistance! It behoveth thee not, therefore, to go out!" Thus addressed by her, that king of the monkeys, the eloquent Vali, decked in a golden garland replied unto Tara of face beautiful as the moon, saying, "Thou understandest the voice of every creature. Tell me after reflection whose help it is that this brother in name only of mine hath obtained!" Thus addressed by him Tara endued with wisdom and possessed of the effulgence of the moon, answered her lord after a moment's reflection, saying, "Listen, O monarch of the monkeys! That foremost of bowmen, endued with great might, Rama the son of Dasaratha, whose spouse hath been ravished, hath made an alliance offensive and defensive with Sugriva! And his brother the intelligent Lakshmana also of mighty arms, the unvanquished son of Sumitra, standeth beside him for the success of Sugriva's object. And Mainda and Dwivida, and Hanuman the son of _Pavana_, and Jamvuman, the king of the bears, are beside Sugriva as his counsellors. All these illustrious ones are endued with great strength and intelligence. And these all, depending upon the might and energy of Rama, are prepared for thy destruction!" Hearing these words of hers that were for his benefit, the king of the monkeys disregarded them altogether. And filled with jealousy, he also suspected her to have set her heart on Sugriva! And addressing Tara in harsh words, he went out of his cave and coming before Sugriva who was staying by the side of the mountains of Malyavat, he spoke unto him thus, "Frequently vanquished before by me, fond as thou art of life, thou art allowed by me to escape with life owing to thy relationship with me! What hath made thee wish for death so soon?" Thus addressed by Vali, Sugriva, that slayer of foes, as if addressing Rama himself for informing him of what had happened, replied unto his brother in these words of grave import, "O king, robbed by thee of my wife and my kingdom also, what need have I of life? Know that it is for this that I have come!" Then addressing each other in these and other words of the same import, Vali and Sugriva rushed to the encounter, fighting with _Sala_ and _Tala_ trees and stones. And they struck each other down on the earth. And leaping high into the air, they struck each other with their fists. And mangled by each other's nail and teeth, both of them were covered with blood. And the two heroes shone on that account like a pair of blossoming _Kinshukas_. And as they fought with each other, no difference (in aspect) could be observed so as to distinguish them. Then Hanuman placed on Sugriva's neck a garland of flowers. And that hero thereupon shone with that garland on his neck, like the beautiful and huge peak of _Malya_ with its cloudy belt. And Rama, recognising Sugriva by that sign, then drew his foremost of huge bows, aiming at Vali as his mark. And the twang of Rama's bow resembled the roar of an engine. And Vali, pierced in the heart by that arrow, trembled in fear. And Vali, his heart having been pierced through, began to vomit forth blood. And he then beheld standing before him Rama with Sumatra's son by his side. And reproving that descendant of Kakutstha's race, Vali fell down on the ground and became senseless. And Tara then beheld that lord of hers possessed of the effulgence of the Moon, lying prostrate on the bare earth. And after Vali had been thus slain, Sugriva regained possession of Kishkindhya, and along with it, of the widowed Tara also of face beautiful as the moon. And the intelligent Rama also dwelt on the beautiful breast of the Malyavat hill for four months, duly worshipped by Sugriva all the while. "'Meanwhile Ravana excited by lust, having reached his city of Lanka, placed Sita in an abode, resembling _Nandana_ itself, within a forest of _Asokas_, that looked like an asylum of ascetics. And the large-eyed Sita passed her days there in distress, living on fruits and roots, practising ascetic austerities with fasts, attired in ascetic garb, and waning thin day by day, thinking of her absent lord. And the king of the _Rakshasas_ appointed many _Rakshasa_ women armed with bearded darts and swords and lances and battle-axes and maces and flaming brands, for guarding her. And some of these had two eyes, and some three, and some had eyes on their foreheads. And some had long tongues and some had none. And some had three breasts and some had only one leg. And some had three matted braids on their heads, and some had only one eye. And these, and others of blazing eyes and hair stiff as the camel's, stood beside Sita surrounding her day and night most watchfully. And those _Pisacha_ women of frightful voice and terrible aspect always addressed that large-eyed lady in the harshest tones. And they said, "Let us eat her up, let us mangle her, let us tear her into pieces, her, that is, that dwelleth here disregarding our lord!" And filled with grief at the separation from her lord, Sita drew a deep sigh and answered those _Rakshasa_ women, saying, "Reverend ladies, eat me up without delay! I have no desire to live without that husband of mine, of eyes like lotus-leaves and locks wavy, and blue in hue! Truly I will, without food and without the least love of life, emaciate my limbs, like a she-snake (hybernating) within a _Tala_ tree. Know this for certain that I will never seek the protection of any other person than the descendant of Raghu. And knowing this, do what ye think fit!" And hearing these words of hers, those _Rakshasas_ with dissonant voice went to the king of the _Rakshasas_, for representing unto him all she had said. And when those _Rakshasas_ had gone away, one of their number known by the name of _Trijata_, who was virtuous and agreeable in speech, began to console the princess of Videha. And she said, "Listen, O Sita! I will tell thee something! O friend, believe in what I say! O thou of fair hips, cast off thy fears, and listen to what I say. There is an intelligent and old chief of the _Rakshasas_ known by the name of Avindhya. He always seeketh Rama's good and hath told me these words for thy sake! 'Reassuring and cheering her, tell Sita in my name, saying: "Thy husband the mighty Rama is well and is waited upon by Lakshmana. And the blessed descendant of Raghu hath already made friends with Sugriva, the king of the monkeys, and is ready to act for thee!"' And, O timid lady, entertain thou no fear on account of Ravana, who is censured by the whole world, for, O daughter, thou art safe from him on account of Nalakuvera's curse. Indeed, this wretch had been cursed before for his having violated his daughter-in-law, Rambha. This lustful wretch is not able to violate any woman by force. Thy husband will soon come, protected by Sugriva and with the intelligent son of Sumitra in his train, and will soon take thee away hence! O lady, I have had a most terrible dream of evil omen, indicating the destruction of this wicked-minded wretch of Pulastya's race! This night wanderer of mean deeds is, indeed, most wicked and cruel. He inspireth terror in all by the defects of his nature and the wickedness of his conduct. And deprived of his senses by Fate, he challengeth the very gods. In my vision I have seen every indication of his downfall. I have seen the Ten-headed, with his crown shaven and body besmeared with oil, sunk in mire, and the next moment dancing on a chariot drawn by mules. I have seen Kumbhakarna and others, perfectly naked and with crowns shaven, decked with red wreaths and unguents, and running towards the southern direction. Vibhishana alone, with umbrella over his head, and graced with a turban, and with body decked with white wreaths and unguents, I beheld ascending the summit of the White hill. And I saw four of his counsellors also, decked with white wreaths and unguents, ascending the summit of that hill along with him. All this bodeth that these alone will be saved from the impending terror. The whole earth with its oceans and seas will be enveloped with Rama's arrows. O lady, thy husband will fill the whole earth with his fame. I also saw Lakshmana, consuming all directions (with his arrows) and ascending on a heap of bones and drinking thereon honey and rice boiled in milk. And thou, O lady, hast been beheld by me running towards a northernly direction, weeping and covered with blood and protected by a tiger! And, O princess of Videha, soon wilt thou find happiness, being united, O Sita, with thy lord, that descendant of Raghu accompanied by his brother!' Hearing these words of _Trijata_, that girl with eyes like those of a young gazelle, once more began to entertain hopes of a union with her lord. And when at last those fierce and cruel _Pisacha_ guards came back, they saw her sitting with _Trijata_ as before.'" SECTION CCLXXIX "Markandeya said, 'And while the chaste Sita was dwelling there afflicted with melancholy and grief on account of her lord, attired in mean garb, with but a single jewel (on the marital thread on her wrist), and incessantly weeping, seated on a stone, and waited upon by _Rakshasa_ women, Ravana, afflicted by the shafts of the god of desire, came to her and approached her presence. And inflamed by desire, that conqueror in battle of the gods, the _Danavas_, the _Gandharvas_, the _Yakshas_, and the _Kimpurushas_, attired in celestial robes and possessing handsome features, decked with jewelled earrings and wearing a beautiful garland and crown, entered the _Asoka_ woods, like an embodiment of the vernal season. And dressed with care, Ravana looked like the _Kalpa_ tree in Indra's garden. But though adorned with every embellishment, that inspired her only with awe, like a beautified banian in the midst of a cemetery. And that night wanderer, having approached the presence of that slender-waisted lady, looked like the planet Saturn in the presence of _Rohini_. And smitten with the shafts of the god of the flowery emblem he accosted that fair-hipped lady then affrighted like a helpless doe, and told her these words, "Thou hast, O Sita, shown thy regard for thy lord too much! O thou of delicate limbs, be merciful unto me. Let thy person be embellished now (by these maids in waiting). O excellent lady, accept me as thy lord! And, O thou of the most beautiful complexion, attired in costly robes and ornaments, take thou the first place among all the women of my household. Many are the daughters of the celestials and also the _Gandharvas_ that I possess! I am lord also of many _Danava_ and _Daitya_ ladies! One hundred and forty millions of _Pisachas_, twice as many man-eating Rakshasa of terrible deed, and thrice as many Yaksha do my bidding! Some of these are under the sway of my brother who is the lord of all treasures. In my drinking hall, O excellent lady of beautiful thighs, Gandharvas and Apsaras wait on me as they do on my brother! I am, again, the son of that regenerate _Rishi_ Visravas himself of high ascetic merit. I am renowned, again, as the fifth Regent of the Universe! And, O beautiful lady, of food and edibles and drinks of the very best kind, I have as much as the Lord himself of the celestials! Let all thy troubles consequent on a life in the woods cease! O thou of fair hips, be my Queen, as Mandodari herself!" Thus addressed by him, the beautiful princess of Videha, turning away and regarding him as something less than a straw, replied unto that wanderer of the night. And at that time the princess of Videha, that girl of beautiful hips, had her deep and compact bosom copiously drenched by her inauspicious tears shed ceaselessly. And she who regarded her husband as her god, answered that mean wretch, saying, "By sheer ill-luck it is, O king of the Rakshasas, that I am obliged to hear such words of grievous import spoken by thee! Blessed be thou, O Rakshasa fond of sensual pleasures, let thy heart be withdrawn from me! I am the wife of another, ever devoted to my husband, and, therefore, incapable of being possessed by thee! A helpless human being that I am, I cannot be a fit wife for thee! What joy can be thine by using violence towards an unwilling woman? Thy father is a wise Brahmana, born of Brahma and equal unto that Lord himself of the creation! Why dost thou not, therefore, thyself being equal to a Regent of the Universe, observe virtue? Disgracing thy brother, that king of the Yakshas, that adorable one who is the friend of Maheswara himself, that lord of treasures, how is it that thou feelest no shame?" Having said these words, Sita began to weep, her bosom shivering in agitation, and covering her neck and face with her garments. And the long and well-knit braid, black and glossy, falling from the head of the weeping lady, looked like a black snake. And hearing these cruel words uttered by Sita, the foolish Ravana, although thus rejected, addressed Sita once more, saying, "O lady, let the god having the _Makara_ for his emblem burn me sorely. I will, however, on no account, O thou of sweet smiles and beautiful hips, approach thee, as thou art unwilling! What can I do to thee that still feelest a regard for Rama who is only a human being and, therefore, our food?" Having said those words unto that lady of faultless features, the king of the _Rakshasa_ made himself invisible then and there and went away to the place he liked. And Sita, surrounded by those _Rakshasa_ women, and treated with tenderness by _Trijata_, continued to dwell there in grief.'" SECTION CCLXXX "Markandeya said, 'Meanwhile the illustrious descendant of Raghu, along with his brother, hospitably treated by Sugriva, continued to dwell on the breast of the _Malyavat_ hill, beholding every day the clear blue sky. And one night, while gazing from the mountain-top on the bright moon in the cloudless sky surrounded by planets and stars and stellar bodies, that slayer of foes was suddenly awakened (to a remembrance of Sita) by the cold breezes fragrant with the perfumes of the lily, lotus and other flowers of the same species. And virtuous Rama, dejected in spirits at the thought of Sita's captivity in the abode of the Rakshasa, addressed the heroic Lakshmana in the morning saying, "Go, Lakshmana and seek in Kishkindhya that ungrateful king of the monkeys, who understands well his own interest and is even now indulging in dissipations, that foolish wretch of his race whom I have installed on a throne and to whom all apes and monkeys and bears owe allegiance, that fellow for whose sake, O mighty-armed perpetuator of Raghu's race, Vali was slain by me with thy help in the wood of Kishkindhya! I regard that worst of monkeys on earth to be highly ungrateful, for, O Lakshmana, that wretch hath now forgotten me who am sunk in such distress! I think he is unwilling to fulfil his pledge, disregarding, from dullness of understanding, one who hath done him such services! If thou findest him luke-warm and rolling in sensual joys, thou must then send him, by the path Vali hath been made to follow, to the common goal of all creatures! If, on the other hand, thou seest that foremost of monkeys delight in our cause, then, O descendant of Kakutstha, shouldst thou bring him hither with thee! Be quick, and delay not!" Thus addressed by his brother, Lakshmana ever attentive to the behests and welfare of his superiors, set out taking with him his handsome bow with string and arrows. And reaching the gates of Kishkindhya he entered the city unchallenged. And knowing him to be angry, the monkey-king advanced to receive him. And with his wife, Sugriva, the king of the monkeys, with a humble heart, joyfully received him with due honours. And the dauntless son of Sumitra then told him what Rama had said. And having heard everything in detail, O mighty monarch, Sugriva, the king of the monkeys with his wife and servants, joined his hands, and cheerfully said unto Lakshmana, that elephant among men, these words: "I am, O Lakshmana, neither wicked, nor ungrateful, nor destitute of virtue! Hear what efforts I have made for finding out Sita's place of captivity! I have despatched diligent monkeys in all directions. All of them have stipulated to return within a month. They will, O hero, search the whole earth with her forests and hills and seas, her villages and towns and cities and mines. Only five nights are wanting to complete that month, and then thou wilt, with Rama, hear tidings of great joy!" "'Thus addressed by that intelligent king of the monkeys, the high-souled Lakshmana became appeased, and he in his turn worshipped Sugriva. And accompanied by Sugriva, he returned to Rama on the breast of the Malyavat hill. And approaching him, Lakshmana informed him of the beginning already made in respect of his undertaking. And soon thousands of monkey-chiefs began to return, after having carefully searched the three quarters of the earth, viz., the North, the East and the West. But they that had gone towards the South did not make their appearance. And they that came back represented to Rama, saying that although they had searched the whole earth with her belt of seas, yet they could not find either the princess of Videha or Ravana. But that descendant of Kakutstha's race, afflicted at heart, managed to live yet, resting his hopes (of hearing Sita's tidings) on the great monkeys that had gone towards the South. "'After the lapse of two months, several monkeys seeking with haste the presence of Sugriva, addressed him, saying, "O king, that foremost of monkeys, the son of _Pavana_, as also Angada, the son of Vali, and the other great monkeys whom thou hadst despatched to search the southern region, have come back and are pillaging that great and excellent orchard called _Madhuvana_, which was always guarded by Vali and which hath been well-guarded by thee also after him!" Hearing of this act of liberty on their part, Sugriva inferred the success of their mission, for it is only servants that have been crowned with success that can act in this way. And that intelligent and foremost of monkeys communicated his suspicions to Rama. And Rama also, from this, guessed that the princess of Mithila had been seen. Then Hanuman and the other monkeys, having refreshed themselves thus, came towards their king, who was then staying with Rama and Lakshmana. And, O Bharata, observing the gait of Hanuman and the colour of his face, Rama was confirmed in the belief that Hanuman had really seen Sita. Then those successful monkeys with Hanuman at their head, duly bowed unto Rama and Lakshmana and Sugriva. And Rama then taking up his bow and quiver, addressed those monkeys, saying, "Have you been successful? Will ye impart life unto me? Will ye once more enable me to reign in Ayodhya after having slain my enemy in battle and rescued the daughter of Janaka? With the princess of Videha unrescued, and the foe unslain in battle, I dare not live, robbed of wife and honour!" Thus addressed by Rama, the son of _Pavana_, replied unto him, saying, "I bring thee good news, O Rama; for Janaka's daughter hath been seen by me. Having searched the southern region with all its hills, forests, and mines for some time, we became very weary. At length we beheld a great cavern. And having beheld it, we entered that cavern which extended over many _Yojanas_. It was dark and deep and overgrown with trees and infested by worms. And having gone a great way through it, we came upon sun-shine and beheld a beautiful palace. It was, O Raghava, the abode of the _Daitya Maya_. And there we beheld a female ascetic named _Prabhavati_ engaged in ascetic austerities. And she gave us food and drink of various kinds. And having refreshed ourselves therewith and regained our strength, we proceeded along the way shown by her. At last we came out of the cavern and beheld the brimy sea, and on its shores, the _Sahya_, the _Malaya_ and the great _Dardura_ mountains. And ascending the mountains of _Malaya_, we beheld before us the vast ocean.[51] And beholding it we felt sorely grieved in mind. And dejected in spirits and afflicted with pain and famishing with hunger, we despaired of returning with our lives. Casting our eyes on the great ocean extending over many hundreds of _Yojanas_ and abounding in whales and alligators and other aquatic animals, we became anxious and filled with grief. We then sat together, resolved to die there of starvation. And in course of conversation we happened to talk of the vulture _Jatayu_. Just then we saw a bird huge as a mountain, of frightful form, and inspiring terror into every heart, like a second son of Vinata.[52] And coming upon us unawares for devouring us, he said, 'Who are ye that are speaking thus of my brother _Jatayu_? I am his elder brother, by name _Sampati_, and am the king of birds. Once upon a time, we two, with the desire of outstripping each other, flew towards the sun. My wings got burnt, but those of _Jatayu_ were not. That was the last time I saw my beloved brother _Jatayu_, the king of vultures! My wings burnt, I fell down upon the top of this great mountain where I still am!' When he finished speaking, we informed him of the death of his brother in a few words and also of this calamity that hath befallen thee! And, O king, the powerful Sampati hearing this unpleasant news from us, was greatly afflicted and again enquired of us, saying, 'Who is this Rama and why was Sita carried off and how was Jatayu slain? Ye foremost of monkeys I wish to hear everything in detail!' We then informed him of everything about this calamity of thine and of the reason also of our vow of starvation. That king of birds then urged us (to give up our vow) by these words of his: 'Ravana is, indeed, known to me. Lanka is his capital. I beheld it on the other side of the sea in a valley of the _Trikuta_ hills! Sita must be there. I have little doubt of this!' Hearing these words of his, we rose up quickly and began, O chastiser of foes, to take counsel of one another for crossing the ocean! And when none dared to cross it, I, having recourse to my father, crossed the great ocean which is a hundred _Yojanas_ in width. And having slain the _Rakshasis_ on the waters, I saw the chaste Sita within Ravana's harem, observing ascetic austerities, eager to behold her lord, with matted locks on head, and body besmeared with filth, and lean, and melancholy and helpless. Recognising her as Sita by those unusual signs, and approaching that worshipful lady while alone, I said, 'I am, O Sita, an emissary of Rama and monkey begotten by _Pavana_![53] Desirous of having a sight of thee, hither have I come travelling through the skies! Protected by Sugriva, that monarch of all the monkeys, the royal brothers Rama and Lakshmana are in peace! And Rama, O lady, with Sumitra's son, hath enquired of thy welfare! And Sugriva also, on account of his friendship (with Rama and Lakshmana) enquireth of thy welfare. Followed by all the monkeys, thy husband will soon be here. Confide in me, O adorable lady, I am a monkey and not a _Rakshasa_!' Thus addressed by me, Sita seemed to meditate for a moment and then replied to me, saying, 'From the words of _Avindhya_ I know that thou art Hanuman! O mighty-armed one, Avindhya is an old and respected _Rakshasa_! He told me that Sugriva is surrounded by counsellors like thee. Thou mayst depart now!' And with these words she gave me this jewel as a credential. And, indeed, it was by means of this jewel that the faultless Sita had been able to support her existence. And the daughter of Janaka further told me as a token from her, that by thee, O tiger among men, a blade of grass (inspired with _Mantras_ and thus converted into a fatal weapon) had once been shot at a crow while ye were on the breast of the mighty hill known by the name of _Chitrakuta_! And this she said as evidence of my having met her and hers being really the princess of Videha. I then caused myself to be seized by Ravana's soldiers, and then set fire to the city of Lanka!"'" [51] Abode of Varuna in the original. [52] Garuda. [53] Pavana, the God of the wind. SECTION CCLXXXI "Markandeya said, 'It was on the breast of that very hill where Rama was seated with those foremost of monkeys that great monkey chiefs at the command of Sugriva, began to flock together. The father-in-law of Vali, the illustrious Sushena, accompanied by a thousand crores of active apes, came to Rama. And those two foremost of monkeys endued with mighty energy, viz., Gaya and Gavakshya, each accompanied by a hundred crores of monkeys, showed themselves there. And, O king, Gavakshya also of terrible mien and endued with a bovine tail, showed himself there, having collected sixty thousand crores of monkeys. And the renowned Gandhamadana, dwelling on the mountains of the same name, collected a hundred thousand crores of monkeys. And the intelligent and mighty monkey known by the name of Panasa mustered together fifty-two crores of monkeys.[54] And that foremost and illustrious of monkeys named Dadhimukha of mighty energy mustered a large army of monkeys possessed of terrible prowess. And Jamvuvan showed himself there with a hundred thousand crores of black bears of terrible deeds and faces having the _Tilaka_ mark.[55] And these and many other chiefs of monkey-chiefs, countless in number, O king, came there for aiding Rama's cause. And endued with bodies huge as mountain-peaks and roaring like lions, loud was the uproar that was heard there made by those monkeys running restlessly from place to place. And some of them looked like mountain-peaks, and some looked like buffaloes. And some were of the hue of autumnal clouds and the faces of some were red as vermillion. And some rose high, and some fell down, and some cut capers, and some scattered the dust, as they mustered together from various directions. And that monkey army, vast as the sea at full tide, encamped there at Sugriva's bidding. And after those foremost of monkeys had mustered from every direction, the illustrious descendant of Raghu, with Sugriva by his side, set out in an auspicious moment of a very fair day under a lucky constellation, accompanied by that host arrayed in order of battle, as if for the purpose of destroying all the worlds. And Hanuman, the son of the Wind-god, was in the van of that host, while the rear was protected by the fearless son of Sumitra. And surrounded by the monkey-chiefs, those princes of Raghu's house with fingers cased in _guana_ skin, shone, as they went, like the Sun and the Moon in the midst of the planets. And that monkey host armed with stones and _Sola_ and _Tola_ trees, looked very much like a far-extending field of corn under the morning sun. And that mighty army, protected by Nala and Nila and Angada and Kratha and Mainda and Dwivida, marched forth for achieving the purpose of Raghava. And encamping successively, without interruption of any kind, on wide and healthy tracts and valleys abounding with fruits and roots and water and honey and meat, the monkey host at last reached the shores of the brimy sea. And like unto a second ocean, that mighty army with its countless colours, having reached the shores of sea, took up its abode there. Then the illustrious son of Dasaratha, addressing Sugriva amongst all those foremost monkeys, spoke unto him these words that were suited to the occasion, "This army is large. The ocean also is difficult to cross. What contrivance, therefore, commends itself to thee for crossing the ocean?" At these words, many vain-glorious monkeys answered, "We are fully able to cross the sea." This answer, however, was not of much use, as all could not avail of that means. Some of the monkeys proposed to cross the sea in boats, and some in rafts of various kinds. Rama, however, conciliating them all, said, "This cannot be. The sea here is a full hundred _Yojanas_ in width. All the monkeys, ye heroes, will not be able to cross it. This proposal, therefore, that ye have made, is not consonant to reason. Besides we have not the number of boats necessary for carrying all our troops. How, again, can one like us raise such obstacles in the way of the merchants? Our army is very large. The foe wilt make a great havoc if a hole is detected. Therefore, to cross the sea in boats and rafts doth not recommend itself to me. I will, however, pray to the Ocean for the necessary means. Foregoing food, I will lie down on the shore. He will certainly show himself to me. If, however, he doth not show himself, I will chastise him then by means of my great weapons that are more blazing than fire itself and are incapable of being baffled!" Having said these words, both Rama and Lakshmana touched water[56] and duly laid themselves down on a bed of _kusa_ grass on the seashore. The divine and illustrious Ocean then, that lord of male and female rivers, surrounded by aquatic animals, appeared unto Rama in a vision. And addressing Rama in sweet accents, the genius of the Ocean, surrounded by countless mines of gems, said, "O son of Kausalya, tell me what aid, O bull among men, I am to render thee! I also have sprung from the race of Ikshwaku and am, therefore, a relative of thine!" Rama replied unto him, saying, "O lord of rivers, male and female, I desire thee to grant me a way for my troops, passing along which I may slay the Ten-headed (Ravana), that wretch of Pulastya's race! If thou dost not grant the way I beg of thee, I will then dry thee up by means of my celestial arrows inspired with _mantras_!" And hearing these words of Rama, the genius of Varuna's abode, joining his hands, answered in great affliction, "I do not desire to put any obstacle in thy way. I am no foe of thine! Listen, O Rama, to these words, and having listened, do what is proper! If, at thy command, I get a way for the passage of thy army, others then, from strength of their bows, will command me to do the same! In thy army there is a monkey of the name of Nala, who is a skilful mechanic. And endued with great strength, Nala is the son of _Tashtri_, the divine artificer of the Universe. And whether it is wood, or grass or stone, that he will throw into my waters, I will support the same on my surface, and thus wilt thou have a bridge (over which to pass)!" And having said these words, the genius of the Ocean disappeared. And Rama awaking, called Nala unto him and said, "Build thou a bridge over the sea! Thou alone, I am sure, art able to do it!" And it was by this means that the descendant of Kakutstha's race caused a bridge to be built that was ten _Yojanas_ in width and a hundred _Yojanas_ in length. And to this day that bridge is celebrated over all the world by the name of _Nala's bridge_. And having completed that bridge, Nala, of body huge as a hill, came away at the command of Rama. [54] There is a difference of reading here. Some texts read fifty seven. [55] A difference of reading is observable here. [56] As a purificatory ceremony, called the Achamana. To this day, no Hindu can perform any ceremony without going through the Achamana in the first instance. "'And while Rama was on this side of the ocean, the virtuous Vibhishana, the brother of the king of the Rakshasas accompanied by four of his counsellors, came unto Rama. And the high-souled Rama received him with due welcome. Sugriva, however, feared, thinking he might be a spy. The son of Raghu, meanwhile perfectly satisfied (with Vibhishana) in consequence of the sincerity of his exertions and the many indications of his good conduct, worshipped him with respect. And he also installed Vibhishana in the sovereignty of all the Rakshasas and made him his own junior counsellor, and a friend of Lakshmana's. And it was under Vibhishana's guidance, O king, that Rama with all his troops crossed the great ocean by means of that bridge in course of a month. And having crossed the ocean and arrived at Lanka, Rama caused its extensive and numerous gardens to be devastated by his monkeys. And while Rama's troops were there, two of Ravana's counsellors and officers, named Suka and Sarana, who had come as spies, having assumed the shape of monkeys, were seized by Vibhishana. And when those wanderers of the night assumed their real Rakshasa forms, Rama showed them his troop and dismissed them quietly. And having quartered his troops in those woods that skirted the city, Rama then sent the monkey Angada with great wisdom as his envoy to Ravana.'" SECTION CCLXXXII "Markandeya said, 'Having quartered his army in those groves abounding with food and water and with fruits and roots, the descendant of Kakutstha began to watch over them with care. Ravana, on the other hand, planted in his city many appliances constructed according to the rules of military science. And his city, naturally impregnable on account of its strong ramparts and gate-ways, had seven trenches, that were deep and full of water to the brim and that abounded with fishes and sharks and alligators, made more impregnable still by means of pointed stakes of _Khadira_ wood. And the ramparts, heaped with stones, were made impregnable by means of catapults. And the warriors (who guarded the walls) were armed with earthen pots filled with venomous snakes, and with resinous powders of many kinds. And they were also armed with clubs, and fire-brands and arrows and lances and swords and battle-axes. And they had also _Sataghnis_[57] and stout maces steeped in wax.[58] And at all the gates of the city were planted movable and immovable encampments manned by large numbers of infantry supported by countless elephants and horses. And Angada, having reached one of the gates of the city, was made known to the Rakshasas. And he entered the town without suspicion or fear. And surrounded by countless Rakshasas, that hero in his beauty looked like the Sun himself in the midst of masses of clouds. And having approached the hero of Pulastya's race in the midst of his counsellors, the eloquent Angada saluted the king and began to deliver Rama's message in these words, "That descendant of Raghu, O king, who ruleth at Kosala and whose renown hath spread over the whole world, sayeth unto thee these words suited to the occasion. Accept thou that message and act according to it! Provinces and towns, in consequence of their connection with sinful kings incapable of controlling their souls, are themselves polluted and destroyed. By the violent abduction of Sita, thou alone hast injured me! Thou, however, wilt become the cause of death to many unoffending persons. Possessed of power and filled with pride, thou hast, before this, slain many _Rishis_ living in the woods, and insulted the very gods. Thou hast slain also many great kings and many weeping women. For those transgressions of thine, retribution is about to overtake thee! I will slay thee with thy counsellors. Fight and show thy courage![59] O wanderer of the night, behold the power of my bow, although I am but a man! Release Sita, the daughter of Janaka! If thou dost not release her, I shall make the Earth divested of all Rakshasas with my keen-edged arrows!" Hearing these defiant words of the enemy, king Ravana bore them ill, becoming senseless with wrath. And thereupon four Rakshasas skilled in reading every sign of their master, seized Angada like four hawks seizing a tiger. With those Rakshasas, however, holding him fast by his limbs, Angada leaped upwards and alighted on the palace terrace. And as he leaped up with a great force, those wanderers of the night fell down the earth, and bruised by the violence of the fall, had their ribs broken. And from the golden terrace on which he had alighted, he took a downward leap. And overleaping the walls of Lanka, he alighted to where his comrades were. And approaching the presence of the lord of Kosala and informing him of everything, the monkey Angada endued with great energy retired to refresh himself, dismissed with due respect by Rama. [57] Lit. an engine killing a hundred. Perhaps, some kind of rude cannon. [58] Perhaps, brands or torches steeped in wax, intended to be thrown in a burning state, amongst the foe. Readers of Indian history know how Lord Lake was repulsed from Bharatpore by means of huge bales of cotton, steeped in oil, rolled from the ramparts of that town, in a burning state, towards the advancing English. [59] Lit. be a Purusha (male)! Manhood would not be appropriate in connection with a Rakshasa. "'The descendant of Raghu then caused the ramparts of Lanka to be broken down by a united attack of all those monkeys endued with the speed of the wind. Then Lakshmana, with Vibhishana and the king of the bears marching in the van, blew up the southern gate of the city that was almost impregnable. Rama then attacked Lanka with a hundred thousand crores of monkeys, all possessed of great skill in battle, and endued with reddish complexions like those of young camels. And those crores of greyish bears with long arms, and legs and huge paws, and generally supporting themselves on their broad haunches, were also urged on to support the attack. And in consequence of those monkeys leaping up and leaping down and leaping in transverse directions, the Sun himself, his bright disc completely shaded, became invisible for the dust they raised. And the citizens of Lanka beheld the wall of their town assume all over a tawny hue, covered by monkeys of complexions yellow as the ears of paddy, and grey as _Shirisha_ flowers, and red as the rising Sun, and white as flax or hemp. And the Rakshasas, O king, with their wives and elders, were struck with wonders at that sight. And the monkey warriors began to pull down pillars made of precious stones and the terraces and tops of palatial mansions. And breaking into fragments the propellers of catapults and other engines, they began to cast them about in all directions. And taking up the _Sataghnis_ along with the discs, the clubs, and stones, they threw them down into the city with great force and loud noise. And attacked thus by the monkeys, those Rakshasas that had been placed on the walls to guard them, fled precipitately by hundreds and thousands. "'Then hundreds of thousands of Rakshasas, of terrible mien, and capable of assuming any form at will, came out at the command of the king. And pouring a perfect shower of arrows and driving the denizens of the forest, those warriors, displaying great prowess, adorned the ramparts. And soon those wanderers of the night, looking like masses of flesh, and of terrible mien, forced the monkeys to leave the walls. And mangled by the enemies' lances, numerous monkey-chiefs fell down from the ramparts, and crushed by the falling columns and gate-ways, numerous Rakshasas also fell down to rise no more. And the monkeys and the brave Rakshasas that commenced to eat up the foe, struggled, seizing one another by the hair, and mangling and tearing one another with their nails and teeth. And the monkeys and the Rakshasas roared and yelled frightfully, and while many of both parties were slain and fell down to rise no more, neither side gave up the contest. And Rama continued all the while to shower a thick downpour of arrows like the very clouds. And the arrows he shot, enveloping Lanka, killed large numbers of Rakshasas. And the son of Sumitra, too, that mighty bowman incapable of being fatigued in battle, naming particular Rakshasas stationed on the ramparts, slew them with his clothyard shafts. And then the monkey host, having achieved success was withdrawn at the command of Rama, after it had thus pulled down the fortifications of Lanka and made all objects within the city capable of being aimed at by the besieging force.'" SECTION CCLXXXIII "Markandeya said, 'And while those troops (thus withdrawn) were reposing themselves in their quarters, many little Rakshasas and _Pisachas_ owning Ravana as their leader, penetrated amongst them. And among these were _Parvana, Patana, Jambha, Khara, Krodha-vasa, Hari, Praruja, Aruja_ and _Praghasa_, and others. And as these wicked ones were penetrating (the monkey host) in their invisible forms, Vibhishana, who had the knowledge thereof, broke the spell of their invisibility. And once seen, O king, by the powerful and long-leaping monkeys, they were all slain and prostrated on the earth, deprived of life. And unable to endure this, Ravana marched out at the head of his troops. And surrounded by his terrible army of Rakshasas and _Pisachas_, Ravana who was conversant with the rules of warfare like a second _Usanas_ invested the monkey host, having disposed his troops in that array which is named after _Usanas_ himself. And beholding Ravana advancing with his army disposed in that array, Rama, following the mode recommended by Vrihaspati, disposed his troops in counter array for opposing that wanderer of the night. And coming up quickly, Ravana began to fight with Rama. And Lakshmana singled out Indrajit, and Sugriva singled out Virupakshya, and Nikharvata fought with Tara, and Nala with Tunda, and Patusa with Panasa. And each warrior, advancing up to him whom he regarded as his match, began to fight with him on that field of battle, relying on the strength of his own arms, and that encounter, so frightful to timid persons, soon became terrible and fierce like that between the gods and the _Asuras_ in the days of old. And Ravana covered Rama with a shower of darts and lances and swords, and Rama also afflicted Ravana with his whetted arrows of iron furnished with the sharpest points, and in the same way Lakshmana smote the contending Indrajit with arrows capable of penetrating into the most vital parts and Indrajit also smote Sumitra's son with an arrowy shower. And Vibhishana showered upon Prahasta and Prahasta showered upon Vibhishana, without any regard for each other a thick downpour of winged arrows furnished with the sharpest points. And thus between those mighty warriors there came about an encounter of celestial weapons of great force, at which the three worlds with their mobile and immobile creatures were sorely distressed.'" SECTION CCLXXXIV "Markandeya said, 'Then Prahasta, suddenly advancing up to Vibhishana and uttering a loud yell, struck him with his mace. But though struck with that mace of terrible force, the mighty-armed Vibhishana of great wisdom, without wavering in the least, stood still as the mountains of Himavat. Then Vibhishana, taking up a huge and mighty javelin furnished with a hundred bells, inspired it with _mantras_ and hurled it at the head of his adversary. And by the impetuosity of that weapon rushing with the force of the thunderbolt, Prahasta's head was severed off, and he thereupon looked like a mighty tree broken by the wind. And beholding that wanderer of the night, Prahasta, thus slain in battle, Dhumraksha rushed with great impetuosity against the monkey-host. And beholding the soldiers of Dhumraksha, looking like the clouds and endued with terrible mien, advancing up towards them, the monkey-chief suddenly broke and fled. And seeing those foremost of monkeys suddenly give way, that tiger among monkeys, Hanuman, the son of Pavana, began to advance. And beholding the son of Pavana staying still on the field of battle, the retreating monkeys, O king, one and all quickly rallied. Then mighty and great and fearful was the uproar that arose there in consequence of the warriors of Rama and Ravana rushing against each other. And in that battle which raged terribly the field soon became miry with blood. And Dhumraksha afflicted the monkey-host with volleys of winged shafts. Then that vanquisher of foes, Hanuman, the son of Pavana, quickly seized that advancing leader of the Rakshasa. And the encounter that took place between that monkey and the Rakshasa hero, each desirous of defeating the other, was fierce and terrible, like that of Indra and Prahlada (in days of yore). And the Rakshasa struck the monkey with his maces and spiked clubs while the monkey struck the Rakshasa with trunks of trees unshorn of their branches. Then Hanuman, the son of Pavana, slew in great wrath that Rakshasa along with his charioteer and horses and broke his chariot also into pieces. And beholding Dhumraksha, that foremost of Rakshasa, thus slain, the monkeys, abandoning all fear, rushed against the Rakshasa army with great valour. And slaughtered in large numbers by the victorious and powerful monkeys, the Rakshasas became dispirited and fled in fear to Lanka. And the surviving wreck of the Rakshasa army, having reached the city, informed king Ravana of everything that had happened. And hearing from them that Prahasta and that mighty archer Dhumraksha, had both, with their armies, been slain by the powerful monkeys, Ravana drew a deep sigh and springing up from his excellent seat, said,--the time is come for Kumbhakarna to act.--And having said this, he awoke, by means of various loud-sounding instruments, his brother Kumbhakarna from his deep and prolonged slumbers. And having awaked him with great efforts, the Rakshasa king, still afflicted with anxiety, addressed the mighty Kumbhakarna and said unto him when seated at his ease on his bed, having perfectly recovered consciousness and self-possession, these words, "Thou, indeed, art happy, O Kumbhakarna, that canst enjoy profound and undisturbed repose, unconscious of the terrible calamity that hath overtaken us! Rama with his monkey host hath crossed the Ocean by a bridge and disregarding us all is waging a terrible war (against us). I have stealthily brought away his wife Sita, the daughter of Janaka, and it is to recover her that he hath come hither, after having made a bridge over the great Ocean. Our great kinsmen also, Prahasta and others, have already been slain by him. And, O scourge of thy enemies, there is not another person, save thee, that can slay Rama! Therefore, O warrior, putting on thy armour, do thou set out this day for the purpose of vanquishing Rama and his followers! The two younger brothers of Dushana, viz., Vajravega and Promathin, will join thee with their forces!" And having said this unto the mighty Kumbhakarna, the Rakshasa king gave instructions to Vajravega and Promathin as to what they should do. And accepting his advice, those two warlike brothers of Dushana quickly marched out of the city, preceded by Kumbhakarna.'" SECTION CCLXXXV "Markandeya said, 'Then Kumbhakarna set out from the city, accompanied by his followers. And soon he beheld the victorious monkey troops encamped before him. And passing them by with the object of seeking out Rama, he beheld the son of Sumitra standing at his post, bow in hand. Then the monkey warriors, speedily advancing towards him, surrounded him on all sides. And then they commenced to strike him with numberless large trees. And many amongst them fearlessly began to tear his body with their nails. And those monkeys began to fight with him in various ways approved by the laws of warfare. And they soon overwhelmed that chief of the Rakshasas with a shower of terrible weapons of various kinds. And attacked by them thus, Kumbhakarna only laughed at them and began to eat them up. And he devoured those foremost of monkeys known by the name of Chala, and Chandachala, and Vajravahu. And beholding that fearful act of the _Rakshasa_, other monkeys were frightened and set forth a loud wail of fear. And hearing the screams of those monkey-leaders, Sugriva boldly advanced towards Kumbhakarna. And that high-souled king of the monkeys swiftly approaching the _Rakshasa_, violently struck him on the head with the trunk of a _Sala_ tree. And though the high-souled Sugriva always prompt in action broke that _Sala_ tree on the head of Kumbhakarna, he failed to make any impression on that _Rakshasa_. And then, as if roused from his torpor by that blow, Kumbhakarna stretching forth his arms seized Sugriva by main force. And beholding Sugriva dragged away by the _Rakshasa_, the heroic son of Sumitra, that delighter of his friends, rushed towards Kumbhakarna. And that slayer of hostile heroes, Lakshmana, advancing towards Kumbhakarna, discharged at him an impetuous and mighty arrow furnished with golden wings. And that arrow, cutting through his coat of mail and penetrating into his body, passed through it outright and struck into the earth, stained with the _Rakshasa's_ blood. Kumbhakarna then, having his breast thus bored through, released the king of monkeys. And taking up a huge mass of stone as his weapon, the mighty warrior Kumbhakarna then rushed towards the son of Sumitra, aiming it at him. And as the _Rakshasa_ rushed towards him, Lakshmana cut off his upraised arms by means of a couple of keen-edged shafts furnished with heads resembling razors. But as soon as the two arms of the Rakshasa were thus cut off, double that number of arms soon appeared on his person. Sumitra's son, however, displaying his skill in weapons, soon by means of similar arrows cut off those arms also, each of which had seized a mass of stone. At this, that _Rakshasa_ assumed a form enormously huge and furnished with numerous heads and legs and arms. Then the son of Sumitra rived, with a _Brahma_ weapon, that warrior looking like an assemblage of hill. And rent by means of that celestial weapon, that _Rakshasa_ fell on the field of battle like a huge tree with spreading branches suddenly consumed by heaven's thunderbolt. And beholding Kumbhakarna endued with great activity and resembling the _Asura_ Vritra himself, deprived of life and prostrated on the field of battle, the _Rakshasa_ warriors fled in fear. And beholding the _Rakshasa_ warriors running away from the field of battle, the younger brother of Dushana, rallying them, rushed in great wrath upon the son of Sumitra. Sumitra's son, however, with a loud roar, received with his winged shafts both those wrathful warriors, Vajravega and Promathin, rushing towards him. The battle then, O son of Pritha, that took place between those two younger brothers of Dushana on the one hand and the intelligent Lakshmana on the other, was exceedingly furious and made the bristles of the spectators stand on end. And Lakshmana overwhelmed the two _Rakshasas_ with a perfect shower of arrows. And those two _Rakshasa_ heroes, on the other hand, both of them excited with fury, covered Lakshmana with an arrowy hail. And that terrible encounter between Vajravega and Promathin and the mighty-armed Lakshmana lasted for a short while. And Hanuman, the son of Pavana, taking up a mountain peak, rushed towards one of the brothers, and with that weapon took the life of the Rakshasa Vajravega. And that mighty monkey, Nala, also, with a large mass of rock, crushed Promathin, that other younger brother of Dushana. The deadly struggle, however, between the soldiers of Rama and Ravana, rushing against one another, instead of coming to an end even after this, raged on as before. And hundreds of _Rakshasas_ were slain by the denizens of the forest, while many of the latter were slain by the former. The loss, however, in killed, of the _Rakshasas_ was far greater than that of the monkeys. SECTION CCLXXXVI "Markandeya said, 'Learning that Kumbhakarna had with his followers, fallen in battle as also that great warrior Prahasta, and Dhumraksha too of mighty energy, Ravana then addressed his heroic son Indrajit saying, "O slayer of foes, slay thou in battle Rama and Sugriva and Lakshmana. My good son, it was by thee that this blazing fame of mine had been acquired by vanquishing in battle that wielder of the thunderbolt, the thousand-eyed Lord of Sachi! Having the power of appearing and vanishing at thy will, slay thou, O smiter of foes, my enemies by means, O thou foremost of all wielders of weapons, of thy celestial arrows received as boons (from the gods)! Rama and Lakshmana and Sugriva are incapable of enduring the bare touch of thy weapons. What shall I say, therefore, of their followers? That cessation of hostilities which could not be brought about by either Prahasta or Kumbhakarna in battle, be it thine, O mighty-armed one, to bring about! Slaying my enemies with all their army by means of thy keen-edged shafts, enhance my joy to-day, O son, as thou didst once before by vanquishing Vasava!" Thus addressed by him, Indrajit said--So be it,--and encased in mail he quickly ascended his chariot, and proceeded, O king, towards the field of battle. And then that bull amongst _Rakshasas_ loudly announcing his own name, challenged Lakshmana endued with auspicious marks, to a single combat. And Lakshmana, thus challenged, rushed towards that _Rakshasa_, with his bow and arrows, and striking terror into his adversary's heart by means of the flapping of his bow-string on the leathern case of his left hand. And the encounter that took place between those warriors that defied each other's prowess and each of whom was desirous of vanquishing the other, and both of whom were conversant with celestial weapons, was terrible in the extreme. But when the son of Ravana found that he could not by his arrows gain any advantage over his adversary, that foremost of mighty warriors mustered all his energy. And Indrajit then began to hurl at Lakshmana with great force numberless javelins. The son of Sumitra, however, cut them into fragments by means of his own keen-edged arrows. And those javelins, thus cut into pieces by the keen-edged arrows of Lakshmana, dropped down upon the ground. Then the handsome Angada, the son of Vali, taking up a large tree, rushed impetuously at Indrajit and struck him with it on the head. Undaunted at this, Indrajit of mighty energy sought to smite Angada with a lance. Just at that juncture, however, Lakshmana cut into pieces the lance taken up by Ravana's son. The son of Ravana then took up a mace and struck on the left flank that foremost of monkeys, the heroic Angada who was then staying close beside him. Angada, the powerful son of Vali, little recking that stroke, hurled at Indrajit a mighty Sala stem. And hurled in wrath by Angada for the destruction of Indrajit, that tree, O son of Pritha, destroyed Indrajit's chariot along with his horses and charioteer. And thereupon jumping from his horseless and driverless car, the son of Ravana disappeared from sight, O king, by aid of his powers of illusion. And beholding that _Rakshasa_, abundantly endued with powers of illusion, disappear so suddenly, Rama proceeded towards that spot and began to protect his troops with care. Indrajit, however, with arrows, obtained as boons from the gods, began to pierce both Rama and mighty Lakshmana in every part of their bodies. Then the heroic Rama and Lakshmana both continued to contend with their arrows against Ravana's son who had made himself invisible by his powers of illusion. But Indrajit continued to shower in wrath all over those lions among men his keen-edged shafts by hundreds and thousands. And seeking that invisible warrior who was ceaselessly showering his arrows, the monkeys penetrated into every part of the firmament, armed with huge masses of stone. Them as well as the two brothers, however, the invisible _Rakshasa_ began to afflict with his shafts. Indeed, the son of Ravana, concealing himself by his powers of illusion, furiously attacked the monkey host. And the heroic brothers Rama and Lakshmana, pierced all over with arrows, dropped down on the ground like the Sun and the Moon fallen down from the firmament.'" SECTION CCLXXXVII "Markandeya said, 'Beholding both the brothers Rama and Lakshmana prostrate on the ground, the son of Ravana tied them in a net-work of those arrows of his which he had obtained as boons. And tied by Indrajit on the field of battle by means of that arrowy net, those heroic tigers among men resembled a couple of hawks immured in a cage. And beholding those heroes prostrate on the ground pierced with hundreds of arrows, Sugriva with all the monkeys stood surrounding them on all sides. And the king of the monkeys stood there, accompanied by Sushena and Mainda and Dwivida, and Kumuda and Angada and Hanuman and Nila and Tara and Nala. And Vibhishana, having achieved success in another part of the field, soon arrived at that spot, and roused those heroes from insensibility, awakening them by means of the weapon called _Prajna_.[60] Then Sugriva soon extracted the arrows from their bodies. And by means of that most efficacious medicine called the _Visalya_,[61] applied with celestial _mantras_, those human heroes regained their consciousness. And the arrow having been extracted from their bodies, those mighty warriors in a moment rose from their recumbent posture, their pains and fatigue thoroughly alleviated. And beholding Rama the descendant of Ikshwaku's race, quite at his ease, Vibhishana, O son of Pritha, joining his hands, told him these words, "O chastiser of foes, at the command of the king of the Guhyakas, a Guhyaka hath come from the White mountains, bringing with him his water![62] O great king, this water is a present to thee from Kuvera, so that all creatures that are invisible may, O chastiser of foes, become visible to thee! This water laved over the eyes will make every invisible creature visible to thee, as also to any other person to whom thou mayst give it!"--Saying--_So be it_,--Rama took that sacred water, and sanctified his own eyes therewith. And the high-minded Lakshmana also did the same. And Sugriva and Jambuvan, and Hanuman and Angada, and Mainda and Dwivida, and Nila and many other foremost of the monkeys, laved their eyes with that water. And thereupon it exactly happened as Vibhishana had said, for, O Yudhishthira, soon did the eyes of all these became capable of beholding things that could not be seen by the unassisted eye! [60] This weapon could restore an insensible warrior to consciousness, as the Sam-mohana weapon could deprive one of consciousness. [61] Visalya a medicinal plant of great efficacy in healing cuts and wounds. It is still cultivated in several parts of Bengal. A medical friend of the writer tested the efficacy of the plant known by that name and found it to be much superior to either gallic acid or tannic acid in stopping blood. [62] The Guhyakas occupy, in Hindu mythology, a position next only to that of the gods, and superior to that of the Gandharvas who are the celestial choristers. The White mountain is another name of Kailasa, the peak where Siva hath his abode. "'Meanwhile, Indrajit, after the success he had won, went to his father. And having informed him of the feats he had achieved, he speedily returned to the field of battle and placed himself at the van of his army. The son of Sumitra then, under Vibhishana's guidance, rushed towards that wrathful son of Ravana coming back, from desire of battle, to lead the attack. And Lakshmana, excited to fury and receiving a hint from Vibhishana, and desiring to slay Indrajit who had not completed his daily sacrifice, smote with his arrows that warrior burning to achieve success. And desirous of vanquishing each other, the encounter that took place between them was exceedingly wonderful like that (in days of yore) between the Lord of celestials and Prahrada. And Indrajit pierced the son of Sumitra with arrows penetrating into his very vitals. And the son of Sumitra also pierced Ravana's son with arrows of fiery energy. And pierced with Lakshmana's arrows, the son of Ravana became senseless with wrath. And he shot at Lakshmana eight shafts fierce as venomous snakes. Listen now, O Yudhishthira, as I tell thee how the heroic son of Sumitra then took his adversary's life by means of three winged arrows possessed of the energy and effulgence of fire! With one of these, he severed from Indrajit's body that arm of his enemy which had grasped the bow. With the second he caused that other arm which had held the arrows, to drop down on the ground. With the third that was bright and possessed of the keenest edge, he cut off his head decked with a beautiful nose and bright with earrings. And shorn of arms and head, the trunk became fearful to behold. And having slain the foe thus, that foremost of mighty men then slew with his arrows the charioteer of his adversary. And the horses then dragged away the empty chariot into the city. And Ravana then beheld that car without his son on it. And hearing that his son had been slain, Ravana suffered his heart to be overpowered with grief. And under the influence of extreme grief and affliction, the king of the Rakshasas suddenly cherished the desire of killing the princess of Mithila. And seizing a sword, the wicked Rakshasa hastily ran towards that lady staying within the _Asoka_ wood longing to behold her lord. Then Avindhya beholding that sinful purpose of the wicked wretch, appeased his fury. Listen, O Yudhishthira, to the reasons urged by Avindhya! That wise Rakshasa said, "Placed as thou art on the blazing throne of an empire, it behoveth thee not to slay a woman! Besides, this woman is already slain, considering that she is a captive in thy power! I think, she would not be slain if only her body were destroyed. Slay thou her husband! He being slain, she will be slain too! Indeed, not even he of an hundred sacrifices (Indra) is thy equal in prowess! The gods with Indra at their head, had repeatedly been affrighted by thee in battle!" With these and many other words of the same import, Avindhya succeeded in appeasing Ravana. And the latter did, indeed, listen to his counsellor's speech. And that wanderer of the night, then, resolved to give battle himself, sheathed his sword, and issued orders for preparing his chariot.'" SECTION CCLXXXVIII "Markandeya said, 'The Ten-necked (Ravana), excited to fury at the death of his beloved son, ascended his car decked with gold and gems. And surrounded by terrible _Rakshasas_ with various kinds of weapons in their hands, Ravana rushed towards Rama, fighting with numerous monkey-chiefs. And beholding him rushing in wrath towards the monkey army, Mainda and Nila and Nala and Angada, and Hanuman and Jambuvan, surrounded him with all their troops. And those foremost of monkeys and bears began to exterminate with trunks of trees, the soldiers of the Ten-necked (Ravana), in his very sight. And beholding the enemy slaughtering his troops, the _Rakshasa_ king, Ravana, possessed of great powers of illusion, began to put them forth. And forth from his body began to spring hundreds and thousands of _Rakshasas_ armed with arrows and lances and double-edged swords in hand. Rama, however, with a celestial weapon slew all those _Rakshasas_. The king of the _Rakshasas_ then once more put forth his prowess of illusion. The Ten-faced, producing from his body numerous warriors resembling, O Bharata, both Rama and Lakshmana, rushed towards the two brothers. And then those _Rakshasas_, hostile to Rama and Lakshmana and armed with bows and arrows, rushed towards Rama, and beholding that power of illusion put forth by the king of _Rakshasas_, that descendant of Ikshwaku's race, the son of Sumitra, addressed Rama in these heroic words, "Slay those _Rakshasas_, those wretches with forms like thy own!" And Rama, thereupon slew those and other _Rakshasas_ of forms resembling his own. And that time Matali, the charioteer of Indra, approached Rama on the field of battle, with a car effulgent as the Sun and unto which were yoked horses of a tawny hue. And Matali said, "O son of Kakutstha's race, this excellent and victorious car, unto which have been yoked this pair of tawny horses, belongs to the Lord of celestials! It is on this excellent car, O tiger among men, that Indra hath slain in battle hundreds of _Daityas_ and _Danavas_! Therefore, O tiger among men, do thou, riding on the car driven by me, quickly slay Ravana in battle! Do not delay in achieving this!" Thus addressed by him, the descendant of Raghu's race, however, doubted the truthful words of Matali, thinking this is another illusion produced by the _Rakshasas_--Vibhishana then addressed him saying, "This, O tiger among men, is no illusion of the wicked Ravana! Ascend thou this chariot quickly, for this, O thou of great effulgence, belongeth to Indra!" The descendant of Kakutstha then cheerfully said unto Vibhishana, "So be it", and riding on that car, rushed wrathfully upon Ravana. And when Ravana, too, rushed against his antagonist, a loud wail of woe was set up by the creatures of the Earth, while the celestials in heaven sent forth a leonine roar accompanied by beating of large drums. The encounter then that took place between the Ten-necked _Rakshasa_ and that prince of Raghu's race, was fierce in the extreme. Indeed, that combat between them hath no parallel elsewhere. And the _Rakshasa_ hurled at Rama a terrible javelin looking like Indra's thunderbolt and resembling a Brahmana's curse on the point of utterance.[63] Rama, however, quickly cut into fragments that javelin by means of his sharp arrows. And beholding that most difficult feat, Ravana was struck with fear. But soon his wrath was excited and the Ten-necked hero began to shower on Rama whetted arrows by thousands and tens of thousands and countless weapons of various kinds, such as rockets and javelins and maces and battle-axes and darts of various kinds and Shataghnis and _whetted shafts_. And beholding that terrible form of illusion displayed by the Ten-necked _Rakshasa_, the monkeys fled in fear in all directions. Then the descendant of Kakutstha, taking out of his quiver an excellent arrow furnished with handsome wings and golden feathers and a bright and beautiful head, fixed it on the bow with _Brahmasira_ mantra. And beholding that excellent arrow transformed by Rama, with proper _mantras_ into a Brahma weapon, the celestials and the Gandharvas with Indra at their head, began to rejoice. And the gods and the _Danavas_ and the _Kinnaras_ were led by the display of that _Brahma_ weapon to regard the life of their Rakshasa foe almost closed. Then Rama shot that terrible weapon of unrivalled energy, destined to compass Ravana's death, and resembling the curse of a Brahmana on the point of utterance. And as soon, O Bharata, as that arrow was shot by Rama from his bow drawn to a circle, the _Rakshasa_ king with his chariot and charioteer and horses blazed up, surrounded on all sides by a terrific fire. And beholding Ravana slain by Rama of famous achievements, the celestials, with the _Gandharvas_ and the _Charanas_, rejoiced exceedingly. And deprived of universal dominion by the energy of the Brahma weapon, the five elements forsook the illustrious Ravana, and were consumed by the _Brahma_ weapon, the physical ingredients of Ravana's body. His flesh and blood were all reduced to nothingness,--so that the ashes even could not be seen.'" [63] According to both Vyasa and Valmiki, there is nothing so fierce as a Brahmana's curse. The very thunderbolt of Indra is weak compared to a Brahmana's curse. The reason is obvious. The thunder smites the individual at whom it may be aimed. The curse of Brahmana smites the whole race, whole generation, whole country. SECTION CCLXXXIX "Markandeya said, 'Having slain Ravana, that wretched king of the _Rakshasas_ and foe of the celestials, Rama with his friends and Sumitra's son rejoiced exceedingly. And after the Ten-necked (_Rakshasa_) hath been slain, the celestials with the _Rishis_ at their head, worshipped Rama of mighty arms, blessing and uttering the word _Jaya_ repeatedly. And all the celestials and the _Gandharvas_ and the denizens of the celestial regions gratified Rama of eyes like lotus leaves, with hymns and flowery showers. And having duly worshipped Rama, they all went away to those regions whence they had come. And, O thou of unfading glory, the firmament at that time looked as if a great festival was being celebrated. "'And having slain the Ten-necked _Rakshasa_, the lord Rama of worldwide fame, that conqueror of hostile cities, bestowed Lanka on Vibhishana. Then that old and wise counsellor (of Ravana) known by the name of Avindhya, with Sita walking before him but behind Vibhishana who was at the front, came out of the city. And with great humility Avindhya said unto the illustrious descendant of Kakutstha, "O illustrious one, accept thou this goddess, Janaka's daughter of excellent conduct!" Hearing these words, the descendant of Ikshwaku's race alighted from his excellent chariot and beheld Sita bathed in tears. And beholding that beautiful lady seated within her vehicle, afflicted with grief, besmeared with filth, with matted locks on head, and attired in dirty robes, Rama, afraid of the loss of his honour, said unto her, "Daughter of Videha, go withersover thou likest! Thou art now free! What should have been done by me, hath been done! O blessed lady, owning me for thy husband, it is not meet that thou shouldst grow old in the abode of the _Rakshasa_! It is for this I have slain that wanderer of the night! But how can one like us, acquainted with every truth of morality, embrace even for a moment a woman that had fallen into other's hands? O princess of Mithila whether thou art chaste or unchaste, I dare not enjoy thee, now that thou art like sacrificial butter lapped by a dog!" Hearing these cruel words, that adorable girl suddenly fell down in great affliction of heart, like a plantain tree severed from its roots. And the colour that was suffusing her face in consequence of the joy she had felt, quickly disappeared, like watery particles on a mirror blown thereon by the breath of the mouth. And hearing these words of Rama, all the monkeys also with Lakshmana became still as dead. Then the divine and pure-souled Brahma of four faces, that Creator of the Universe himself sprung from a lotus, showed himself on his car to Raghu's son. And Sakra and Agni and Vayu, and Yama and Varuna and the illustrious Lord of the _Yakshas_, and the holy _Rishis_, and king Dasaratha also in a celestial and effulgent form and on car drawn by swans, showed themselves. And then the firmament crowded with celestials and _Gandharvas_ became as beautiful as the autumnal welkin spangled with stars. And rising up from the ground, the blessed and famous princess of Videha, in the midst of those present spoke unto Rama of wide chest, these words, "O prince, I impute no fault to thee, for thou art well acquainted with the behaviour that one should adopt towards both men and women. But hear thou these words of mine! The ever-moving Air is always present within every creature. If I have sinned, let him forsake my vital forces! If I have sinned, Oh, then let Fire, and Water, and Space, and Earth, like Air (whom I have already invoked), also forsake my vital forces! And as, O hero, I have never, even in my dreams, cherished the image of any other person, so be thou my lord as appointed by the gods." After Sita had spoken, a sacred voice, resounding through the whole of that region, was heard in the skies, gladdening the hearts of the high-souled monkeys. And the Wind-god was heard to say, "O son of Raghu, what Sita hath said is true! I am the god of Wind. The princess of Mithila is sinless! Therefore, O king, be united with thy wife!" And the god of Fire said, "O son of Raghu, I dwell within the bodies of all creatures! O descendant of Kakutstha, the princess of Mithila is not guilty of even the minutest fault!" And Varuna then said, "O son of Raghu, the humours in every creature's body derive their existence from me! I tell thee, let the princess of Mithila be accepted by thee!" And Brahma himself then said, "O descendant of Kakutstha, O son, in thee that art honest and pure and conversant with the duties of royal sages, this conduct is not strange. Listen, however, to these words of mine! Thou hast, O hero, slain this enemy of the gods, the _Gandharvas_, the _Nagas_, the _Yakshas_, the _Danavas_, and the great _Rishis_! It was through my grace that he had hitherto been unslayable of all creatures. And indeed, it was for some reason that I had tolerated him for some time! The wretch, however, abducted Sita for his own destruction. And as regards Sita, I protected her through Nalakuvera's curse. For that person had cursed Ravana of old, saying, that if he ever approached an unwilling woman, his head should certainly be split into a hundred fragments. Let no suspicion, therefore, be thine! O thou of great glory, accept thy wife! Thou hast indeed, achieved a mighty feat for the benefit of the gods, O thou that art of divine effulgence!" And last of all Dasaratha said, "I have been gratified with thee, O child! Blessed be thou, I am thy father Dasaratha! I command thee to take back thy wife, and rule thy kingdom, O thou foremost of men!" Rama then replied, "If thou art my father, I salute thee with reverence, O king of kings! I shall indeed, return, at thy command, to the delightful city of Ayodhya!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus addressed, his father, O bull of the Bharata race, gladly answered Rama, the corners of whose eyes were of a reddish hue, saying, "Return to Ayodhya and rule thou that kingdom! O thou of great glory, thy fourteen years (of exile) have been completed." Thus addressed by Dasaratha, Rama bowed to the gods, and saluted by his friends he was united with his wife, like the Lord of the celestials with the daughter of Puloman. And that chastiser of foes then gave a boon to Avindhya. And he also bestowed both riches and honours on the _Rakshasa_ woman named _Trijata_. And when Brahma with all the celestials having Indra at their head, said unto Rama, "O thou that ownest Kausalya for thy mother, what boons after thy heart shall we grant thee?" Rama, thereupon, prayed them to grant him firm adherence to virtues and invincibility in respect of all foes. And he also asked for the restoration to life of all those monkeys that had been slain by the _Rakshasas_, and after Brahma had said--So be it, those monkeys, O king, restored to life, rose up from the field of battle, and Sita too, of great good fortune, granted unto Hanuman a boon, saying, "Let thy life, O son, last as long as (the fame of) Rama's achievements! And, O Hanuman of yellow eyes, let celestial viands and drinks be ever available to thee through my grace!"' "'Then the celestials with Indra at their head all disappeared in the very sight of those warriors of spotless achievements. And beholding Rama united with the daughter of Janaka, the charioteer of Sakra, highly pleased, addressed him in the midst of friends, and said these words, "O thou of prowess that can never be baffled thou hast dispelled the sorrow of the celestials, the _Gandharvas_, the _Yakshas_, the _Asuras_, the _Nagas_, and human beings! As long, therefore, as the Earth will hold together, so long will all creatures with the celestials, the _Asuras_, the _Gandharvas_, the _Yakshas_, the _Rakshasas_, and the _Pannagas_, speak of thee." And having said these words unto Rama, Matali worshipped that son of Raghu, and having obtained the leave of that foremost of wielders of weapons, he went away, on that same chariot of solar effulgence. And Rama also, with Sumatra's son and Vibhishana, and accompanied by all the monkeys with Sugriva at their head, placing Sita in the van and having made arrangements for the protection of Lanka, recrossed the ocean by the same bridge. And he rode on that beautiful and sky-ranging chariot called the _Pushpaka_ that was capable of going everywhere at the will of the rider. And that subduer of passions was surrounded by his principal counsellors in order of precedence. And arriving at that part of the sea-shore where he had formerly laid himself down, the virtuous king, with all the monkeys, pitched his temporary abode. And the son of Raghu then, bringing the monkeys before him in due time, worshipped them all, and gratifying them with presents of jewels and gems, dismissed them one after another. And after all the monkey-chiefs, and the apes with bovine tails, and the bears, had gone away, Rama re-entered Kishkindhya with Sugriva. And accompanied by both Vibhishana and Sugriva, Rama re-entered Kishkindhya riding on the _Pushpaka_ car and showing the princess of Videha the woods along the way. And having arrived at Kishkindhya, Rama, that foremost of all smiters, installed the successful Angada as prince-regent of the kingdom. And accompanied by the same friends as also by Sumitra's son, Rama proceeded towards his city along the same path by which he had come. And having reached the city of Ayodhya, the king despatched Hanuman thence as envoy to Bharata. And Hanuman, having ascertained Bharata's intentions from external indications, gave him the good news (of Rama's arrival). And after the son of Pavana had come back, Rama entered _Nandigrama_. And having entered that town, Rama beheld Bharata besmeared with filth and attired in rags and seated with his elder brother's sandals placed before him. And being united, O bull of Bharata race, with both Bharata and Shatrughna, the mighty son of Raghu, along with Sumitra's son, began to rejoice exceedingly. And Bharata and Shatrughna also, united with their eldest brother, and beholding Sita, both derived great pleasure. And Bharata then, after having worshipped his returned brother, made over to him with great pleasure, the kingdom that had been in his hands as a sacred trust. And Vasishtha and Vamadeva then together installed that hero in the sovereignty (of Ayodhya) at the eighth Muhurta[64] of the day under the asterism called _Sravana_. And after his installation was over, Rama gave leave to well-pleased Sugriva the king of the monkeys, along with all his followers, as also to rejoicing Vibhishana of Pulastya's race, to return to their respective abodes. And having worshipped them with various articles of enjoyment, and done everything that was suitable to the occasion, Rama dismissed those friends of his with a sorrowful heart. And the son of Raghu then, having worshiped that _Pushpaka_ chariot, joyfully gave it back unto Vaisravana. And then assisted by the celestial _Rishi_ (Vasishtha), Rama performed on the banks of the _Gomati_ ten horse-sacrifices without obstruction of any kind and with treble presents unto Brahmanas.'" [64] Abhijit is lit. the eighth muhurta of the day, a muhurta being equal to an hour of 48 minutes, i.e. the thirtieth part of a whole day and night. The Vaishnava asterism is as explained by Nilakantha, the Sravava. SECTION CCLXL "Markandeya said, 'It was thus, O mighty-armed one, that Rama of immeasurable energy had suffered of old such excessive calamity in consequence of his exile in the woods! O tiger among men, do not grieve, for, O chastiser of foes, thou art _Kshatriya_! Thou too treadest in the path in which strength of arms is to be put forth,--the path that leadeth to tangible rewards. Thou hast not even a particle of sin. Even the celestials with Indra at their head, and the _Asuras_ have to tread in the path that is trod by thee! It was after such afflictions that the wielder of the thunderbolt, aided by the _Maruts_, slew _Vritra_, and the invincible _Namuchi_ and the Rakshasi of long tongue! He that hath assistance, always secureth the accomplishment of all his purposes! What is that which cannot be vanquished in battle by him that hath Dhananjaya for his brother? This Bhima, also, of terrible prowess, is the foremost of mighty persons. The heroic and youthful sons of Madravati again are mighty bowmen. With allies such as these, why dost thou despair, O chastiser of foes? These are capable of vanquishing the army of the wielder himself of the thunderbolt with the _Maruts_ in the midst. Having these mighty bowmen of celestial forms for thy allies, thou, O bull of Bharata race, art sure to conquer in battle all thy foes! Behold, this Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, forcibly abducted by the wicked-minded Saindhava from pride of strength and energy, hath been brought back by these mighty warriors after achieving terrible feats! Behold, king Jayadratha was vanquished and lay powerless before thee! The princess of Videha was rescued with almost no allies by Rama after the slaughter in battle of the Ten-necked _Rakshasa_ of terrible prowess! Indeed, the allies of Rama (in that contest) were monkeys and black-faced bears, creatures that were not even human! Think of all this, O king, in thy mind! Therefore, O foremost of Kurus, grieve not for all (that hath occurred), O bull of the Bharata race! Illustrious persons like thee never indulge in sorrow, O smiter of foes!'" Vaisampayana continued, "It was thus that the king was comforted by Markandeya. And then that high-souled one, casting off his sorrows, once more spoke unto Markandeya." SECTION CCLXLI (_Pativrata-mahatmya Parva_) "Yudhishthira said, 'O mighty sage, I do not so much grieve for myself or these my brothers or the loss of my kingdom as I do for this daughter of Drupada. When we were afflicted at the game of the dice by those wicked-souled ones, it was Krishna that delivered us. And she was forcibly carried off from the forest by Jayadratha. Hast thou even seen or heard of any chaste and exalted lady that resembleth this daughter of Drupada?' "Markandeya said, 'Listen, O king, how the exalted merit of chaste ladies, O Yudhishthira, was completely obtained by a princess named Savitri. There was a king among the Madras, who was virtuous and highly pious. And he always ministered unto the Brahmanas, and was high-souled and firm in promise. And he was of subdued senses and given to sacrifices. And he was the foremost of givers, and was able, and beloved by both the citizens and the rural population. And the name of that lord of Earth was Aswapati. And he was intent on the welfare of all beings. And that forgiving (monarch) of truthful speech and subdued senses was without issue. And when he got old, he was stricken with grief at this. And with the object of raising offspring, he observed rigid vows and began to live upon frugal fare, having recourse to the Brahmacharya mode of life, and restraining his senses. And that best of kings, (daily) offering ten thousand oblations to the fire, recited Mantras in honour of _Savitri_[65] and ate temperately at the sixth hour. And he passed eighteen years, practising such vows. Then when the eighteen years were full, _Savitri_ was pleased (with him). And O king, issuing with great delight, in embodied form, from the _Agnihotra_ fire, the goddess showed herself to that king. And intent on conferring boons, she spoke these words unto the monarch, "I have been gratified, O king, with thy _Brahmacharya_ practices, thy purity and self-restraint and observance of vows, and all thy endeavours and veneration! Do thou, O mighty king, O Aswapati, ask for the boon that thou desirest! Thou ought, however, by no means show any disregard for virtue." Thereat Aswapati said, "It is with the desire of attaining virtue that I have been engaged in this task. O goddess, may many sons be born unto me worthy of my race! If thou art pleased with me, O goddess, I ask for this boon. The twice-born ones have assured me that great merit lieth in having offspring!" _Savitri_ replied, "O king, having already learnt this thy intention, I had spoken unto that lord, the Grandsire, about thy sons. Through the favour granted by the Self-create, there shall speedily be born unto thee on earth a daughter of great energy. It behoveth thee not to make any reply. Well-pleased, I tell thee this at the command of the Grandsire."' [65] Also called Gayatri, the wife of Brahma. "Markandeya said, 'Having accepted _Savitri's_ words and saying, "_So be it!_" the king again gratified her and said, "May this happen soon!" On _Savitri_ vanishing away, the monarch entered his own city. And that hero began to live in his kingdom, ruling his subjects righteously. And when some time had elapsed, that king, observant of vows, begat offspring on his eldest queen engaged in the practice of virtue. And then, O bull of the Bharata race, the embryo in the womb of the princess of Malava increased like the lord of stars in the heavens during the lighted fortnight. And when the time came, she brought forth a daughter furnished with lotus-like eyes. And that best of monarchs, joyfully performed the usual ceremonies on her behalf. And as she had been bestowed with delight by the goddess _Savitri_ by virtue of the oblations offered in honour of that goddess, both her father, and the Brahmanas named her _Savitri_. And the king's daughter grew like unto _Sree_ herself in an embodied form. And in due time, that damsel attained her puberty. And beholding that graceful maiden of slender waist and ample hips, and resembling a golden image, people thought, "We have received a goddess." And overpowered by her energy, none could wed that girl of eyes like lotus-leaves, and possessed of a burning splendour. "'And it came to pass that once on the occasion of a _parva_, having fasted and bathed her head, she presented herself before the (family) deity and caused the Brahmanas to offer oblations with due rites to the sacrificial fire. And taking the flowers that had been offered to the god, that lady, beautiful as _Sree_ herself, went to her high-souled sire. And having reverenced the feet of her father and offering him the flowers she had brought, that maiden of exceeding grace, with joined hands, stood at the side of the king. And seeing his own daughter resembling a celestial damsel arrived at puberty, and unsought by people, the king became sad. And the king said, "Daughter, the time for bestowing thee is come! Yet none asketh thee. Do thou (therefore) thyself seek for a husband equal to thee in qualities! That person who may be desired by thee should be notified to me. Do thou choose for thy husband as thou listest. I shall bestow thee with deliberation. Do thou, O auspicious one, listen to me as I tell thee the words which I heard recited by the twice-born ones. The father that doth not bestow his daughter cometh by disgrace. And the husband that knoweth not his wife in her season meeteth with disgrace. And the son that doth not protect his mother when her husband is dead, also suffereth disgrace. Hearing these words of mine, do thou engage thyself in search of a husband. Do thou act in such a way that we may not be censured by the gods!"' "Markandeya said, 'Having said these words to his daughter and his old counsellors, he instructed the attendants to follow her, saying,--_Go!_ Thereat, bashfully bowing down unto her father's feet, the meek maid went out without hesitation, in compliance with the words of her sire. And ascending a golden car, she went to the delightful asylum of the royal sages, accompanied by her father's aged counsellors. There, O son, worshipping the feet of the aged ones, she gradually began to roam over all the woods. Thus the king's daughter distributing wealth in all sacred regions, ranged the various places belonging to the foremost of the twice-born ones.'" SECTION CCLXLII "Markandeya continued, 'On one occasion, O Bharata, when that king, the lord of the Madras, was seated with Narada in the midst of his court, engaged in conversation, Savitri, accompanied by the king's counsellors, came to her father's abode after having visited various sacred regions and asylums. And beholding her father seated with Narada, she worshipped the feet of both by bending down her head. And Narada then said, "Whither had this thy daughter gone? And, O king, whence also doth she come? Why also dost thou not bestow her on a husband, now that she hath arrived at the age of puberty?" Aswapati answered, saying, "Surely it was on this very business that she had been sent, and she returneth now (from her search). Do thou, O celestial sage, listen, even from her as to the husband she hath chosen herself!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Then the blessed maid, commanded by her father with the words,--_Relate everything in detail_,--regarded those words of her sire as if they were those of a god, and spoke unto him thus, "There was, amongst the Salwas, a virtuous Kshatriya king known by the name of Dyumatsena. And it came to pass that in course of time he became blind. And that blind king possessed of wisdom had an only son. And it so happened that an old enemy dwelling in the vicinity, taking advantage of the king's mishap, deprived him of his kingdom. And thereupon the monarch, accompanied by his wife bearing a child on her breast, went into the woods. And having retired into the forests, he adopted great vows and began to practise ascetic austerities. And his son, born in the city, began to grow in the hermitage. That youth, fit to be my husband, I have accepted in my heart for my lord!" At these words of hers, Narada said, "Alas, O king, Savitri hath committed a great wrong, since, not knowing, she hath accepted for her lord this Satyavan of excellent qualities! His father speaketh the truth and his mother also is truthful in her speech. And it is for this that the Brahmanas have named the son _Satyavan_. In his childhood he took great delight in horses, and used to make horses of clay. And he used also to draw pictures of horses. And for this that youth is sometimes called by the name of _Chitraswa_." The king then asked, "And is prince Satyavan, who is devoted to his father, endued with energy and intelligence and forgiveness and courage?" Narada replied, saying, "In energy Satyavan is like unto the sun, and in wisdom like unto Vrihaspati! And he is brave like unto the lord of the celestials and forgiving like unto the Earth herself!" Aswapati then said, "And is the prince Satyavan liberal in gifts and devoted to the Brahmanas? Is he handsome and magnanimous and lovely to behold?" Narada said, "In bestowal of gifts according to his power, the mighty son of Dyumatsena is like unto Sankriti's son Rantideva. In truthfulness of speech and devotion unto Brahmanas, he is like Sivi, the son of Usinara. And he is magnanimous like Yayati, and beautiful like the Moon. And in beauty of person he is like either of the twin Aswins. And with senses under control, he is meek, and brave, and truthful! And with passion in subjection he is devoted to his friends, and free from malice and modest and patient. Indeed, briefly speaking, they that are possessed of great ascetic merit and are of exalted character say that he is always correct in his conduct and that honour is firmly seated on his brow." Hearing this, Aswapati said, "O reverend sage, thou tellest me that he is possessed of every virtue! Do thou now tell me his defects if, indeed, he hath any!" Narada then said, "He hath one only defect that hath overwhelmed all his virtues. That defect is incapable of being conquered by even the greatest efforts. He hath only one defect, and no other. Within a year from this day, Satyavan, endued with a short life will cast off his body!" Hearing these words of the sage, the king said, "Come, O Savitri, go thou and choose another for thy lord, O beautiful damsel! That one great defect (in this youth) existeth, covering all his merits. The illustrious Narada honoured by even the gods, sayeth, that Satyavan will have to cast off his body within a year, his days being numbered!" At these words of her father, Savitri said, "The death can fall but once; a daughter can be given away but once; and once only can a person say, _I give away_! These three things can take place only once. Indeed, with a life short or long, possessed of virtues or bereft of them, I have, for once, selected my husband. Twice I shall not select. Having first settled a thing mentally, it is expressed in words, and then it is carried out into practice. Of this my mind is an example!" Narada then said, "O best of men, the heart of thy daughter Savitri wavereth not! It is not possible by any means to make her swerve from this path of virtue! In no other person are those virtues that dwell in Satyavan. The bestowal of thy daughter, therefore, is approved by me!" The king said, "What thou hast said, O illustrious one, should never be disobeyed, for thy words are true! And I shall act as thou hast said, since thou art my preceptor!" Narada said, "May the bestowal of thy daughter Savitri be attended with peace! I shall now depart. Blessed be all of ye!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Having said this, Narada rose up into the sky and went to heaven. On the other hand, the king began to make preparations for his daughter's wedding!'" SECTION CCLXLIII "Markandeya said, 'Having pondered over these words (of Narada) about his daughter's marriage, the king began to make arrangements about the nuptials. And summoning all the old Brahmanas, and _Ritwijas_ together with the priests, he set out with his daughter on an auspicious day. And arriving at the asylum of Dyumatsena in the sacred forest, the king approached the royal sage on foot, accompanied by the twice-born ones. And there he beheld the blind monarch of great wisdom seated on a cushion of _Kusa_ grass spread under _Sala_ tree. And after duly reverencing the royal sage, the king in an humble speech introduced himself. Thereupon, offering him the _Arghya_, a seat, and a cow, the monarch asked his royal guest,--_Wherefore is this visit?_--Thus addressed the king disclosed everything about his intentions and purpose with reference to Satyavan. And Aswapati said, "O royal sage, this beautiful girl is my daughter named Savitri. O thou versed in morality, do thou, agreeably to the customs of our order, take her from me as thy daughter-in-law!" Hearing these words, Dyumatsena said, "Deprived of kingdom, and taking up our abode in the woods, we are engaged in the practice of virtue as ascetics with regulated lives. Unworthy of a forest life, how will thy daughter, living in the sylvan asylum, bear this hardship?" Aswapati said, "When my daughter knoweth, as well as myself, that happiness and misery come and go (without either being stationary), such words as these are not fit to be used towards one like me! O king, I have come hither, having made up my mind! I have bowed to thee from friendship; it behoveth thee not, therefore, to destroy my hope! It behoveth thee not, also, to disregard me who, moved by love, have come to thee! Thou art my equal and fit for an alliance with me, as indeed, I am thy equal and fit for alliance with thee! Do thou, therefore, accept my daughter for thy daughter-in-law and the wife of the good Satyavan!" Hearing these words Dyumatsena said, "Formerly I had desired an alliance with thee. But I hesitated, being subsequently deprived of my kingdom. Let this wish, therefore, that I had formerly entertained, be accomplished this very day. Thou art, indeed, a welcome guest to me!" "'Then summoning all the twice-born ones residing in the hermitages of that forest, the two kings caused the union to take place with due rites. And having bestowed his daughter with suitable robes and ornaments, Aswapati went back to his abode in great joy. And Satyavan, having obtained a wife possessed of every accomplishment, became highly glad, while she also rejoiced exceedingly upon having gained the husband after her own heart. And when her father had departed, she put off all her ornaments, and clad herself in barks and cloths dyed in red. And by her services and virtues, her tenderness and self-denial, and by her agreeable offices unto all, she pleased everybody. And she gratified her mother-in-law by attending to her person and by covering her with robes and ornaments. And she gratified her father-in-law by worshipping him as a god and controlling her speech. And she pleased her husband by her honeyed speeches, her skill in every kind of work, the evenness of her temper, and by the indications of her love in private. And thus, O Bharata, living in the asylum of those pious dwellers of the forest, they continued for some time to practise ascetic austerities. But the words spoken by Narada were present night and day in the mind of the sorrowful Savitri.'" SECTION CCLXLIV "Markandeya said, 'At length, O king, after a long time had passed away, the hour that had been appointed for the death of Satyavan arrived. And as the words that had been spoken by Narada were ever present in the mind of Savitri, she had counted the days as they passed. And having ascertained that her husband would die on the fourth day following, the damsel fasted day and night, observing the _Triratra_ vow. And hearing of her vow, the king became exceedingly sorrowful and rising up soothed Savitri and said these words, "This vow that thou hast begun to observe, O daughter of a king, is exceedingly hard; for it is extremely difficult to fast for three nights together!" And hearing these words, Savitri said, "Thou needst not be sorry, O father! This vow I shall be able to observe! I have for certain undertaken this task with perseverance; and perseverance is the cause of the successful observance of vows." And having listened to her, Dyumatsena said, "I can by no means say unto thee, _Do thou break thy vow_. One like me should, on the contrary, say,--_Do thou complete thy vow!_" And having said this to her, the high-minded Dyumatsena stopped. And Savitri continuing to fast began to look (lean) like a wooden doll. And, O bull of the Bharata race, thinking that her husband would die on the morrow, the woe-stricken Savitri, observing a fast, spent that night in extreme anguish. And when the Sun had risen about a couple of hand Savitri thinking within herself--_To-day is that day_, finished her morning rites, and offered oblations to the flaming fire. And bowing down unto the aged Brahmanas, and her father-in-law, and mother-in-law, she stood before them with joined hands, concentrating her senses. And for the welfare of Savitri, all the ascetics dwelling in that hermitage, uttered the auspicious benediction that she should never suffer widowhood. And Savitri immersed in contemplation accepted those words of the ascetics, mentally saying,--_So be it!_--And the king's daughter, reflecting on those words of Narada, remained, expecting the hour and the moment. "'Then, O best of the Bharatas, well-pleased, her father-in-law and mother-in-law said these words unto the princess seated in a corner, "Thou hast completed the vow as prescribed. The time for thy meal hath now arrived; therefore, do thou what is proper!" Thereat Savitri said, "Now that I have completed the purposed vow, I will eat when the Sun goes down. Even this is my heart's resolve and this my vow!" "Markandeya continued, 'And when Savitri had spoken thus about her meal, Satyavan, taking his axe upon his shoulders, set out for the woods. And at this, Savitri said unto her husband, "It behoveth thee not to go alone! I will accompany thee. I cannot bear to be separated from thee!" Hearing these words of hers, Satyavan said, "Thou hast never before repaired to the forest. And, O lady, the forest-paths are hard to pass! Besides thou hast been reduced by fast on account of thy vow. How wouldst thou, therefore, be able to walk on foot?" Thus addressed, Savitri said, "I do not feel langour because of the fast, nor do I feel exhaustion. And I have made up my mind to go. It behoveth thee not, therefore, to prevent me!" At this, Satyavan said, "If thou desirest to go, I will gratify that desire of thine. Do thou, however, take the permission of my parents, so that I may be guilty of no fault!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus addressed by her lord, Savitri of high vows saluted her father-in-law and mother-in-law and addressed them, saying, "This my husband goeth to the forest for procuring fruits. Permitted by my revered lady-mother and father-in-law, I will accompany him. For to-day I cannot bear to be separated from him. Thy son goeth out for the sake of the sacrificial fire and for his reverend superiors. He ought not, therefore, to be dissuaded. Indeed, he could be dissuaded if he went into the forest on any other errand. Do ye not prevent me! I will go into the forest with him. It is a little less than a year that I have not gone out of the asylum. Indeed, I am extremely desirous of beholding the blossoming woods!" Hearing these words Dyumatsena said, "Since Savitri hath been bestowed by her father as my daughter-in-law, I do not remember that she hath ever spoken any words couching a request. Let my daughter-in-law, therefore, have her will in this matter. Do thou, however, O daughter, act in such a way that Satyavan's work may not be neglected!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Having received the permission of both, the illustrious Savitri, departed with her lord, in seeming smiles although her heart was racked with grief. And that lady of large eyes went on, beholding picturesque and delightful woods inhabited by swarms of peacocks. And Satyavan sweetly said unto Savitri, "Behold these rivers of sacred currents and these excellent trees decked with flowers!" But the faultless Savitri continued to watch her lord in all his moods, and recollecting the words of the celestial sage, she considered her husband as already dead. And with heart cleft in twain, that damsel, replying to her lord, softly followed him expecting that hour.'" SECTION CCLXLV "Markandeya said, 'The powerful Satyavan then, accompanied by his wife, plucked fruits and filled his wallet with them. And he then began to fell branches of trees. And as he was hewing them, he began to perspire. And in consequence of that exercise his head began to ache. And afflicted with toil, he approached his beloved wife, and addressed her, saying, "O Savitri, owing to this hard exercise my head acheth, and all my limbs and my heart also are afflicted sorely! O thou of restrained speech, I think myself unwell, I feel as if my head is being pierced with numerous darts. Therefore, O auspicious lady, I wish to sleep, for I have not the power to stand." Hearing these words, Savitri quickly advancing, approached her husband, and sat down upon the ground, placing his head upon her lap. And that helpless lady, thinking of Narada's words, began to calculate the (appointed) division of the day, the hour, and the moment. The next moment she saw a person clad in red attire with his head decked with a diadem. And his body was of large proportions and effulgent as the Sun. And he was of a darkish hue, had red eyes, carried a noose in his hand, and was dreadful to behold. And he was standing beside Satyavan and was steadfastly gazing at him. And seeing him, Savitri gently placed her husband's head on the ground, and rising suddenly, with a trembling heart, spake these words in distressful accents, "Seeing this thy superhuman form, I take thee to be a deity. If thou will tell me, O chief of the gods, who thou art and what also thou intendst to do!" Thereat, Yama replied, "O Savitri, thou art ever devoted to thy husband, and thou art also endued with ascetic merit. It is for this reason that I hold converse with thee. Do thou, O auspicious one, know me for Yama. This thy lord Satyavan, the son of a king, hath his days run out. I shall, therefore, take him away binding him in this noose. Know this to be my errand!" At these words Savitri said, "I had heard that thy emissaries come to take away mortals, O worshipful one! Why then, O lord, hast thou come in person?"' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus addressed by her, the illustrious lord of _Pitris_, with a view to oblige her, began to unfold to her truly all about his intentions. And Yama said, "This prince is endued with virtues and beauty of person, and is a sea of accomplishments. He deserveth not to be borne away by my emissaries. Therefore is it that I have come personally." Saying this, Yama by main force pulled out of the body of Satyavan, a person of the measure of the thumb, bound in noose and completely under subjection. And when Satyavan's life had thus been taken out, the body, deprived of breath, and shorn of lustre, and destitute of motion, became unsightly to behold. And binding Satyavan's vital essence, Yama proceeded in a southerly direction. Thereupon, with heart overwhelmed in grief, the exalted Savitri, ever devoted to her lord and crowned with success in respect of her vows, began to follow Yama. And at this, Yama said, "Desist, O Savitri! Go back, and perform the funeral obsequies of thy lord! Thou art freed from all thy obligations to thy lord. Thou hast come as far as it is possible to come." Savitri replied, "Whither my husband is being carried, or whither he goeth of his own accord, I will follow him thither. This is the eternal custom. By virtue of my asceticism, of my regard for my superiors, of my affection for my lord, of my observance of vows, as well as of thy favour, my course is unimpeded. It hath been declared by wise men endued with true knowledge that by walking only seven paces with another, one contracteth a friendship with one's companion. Keeping that friendship (which I have contracted with thee) in view, I shall speak to thee something. Do thou listen to it. They that have not their souls under control, acquire not merit by leading the four successive modes of life, viz.,--celibacy with study, domesticity, retirement into the woods, and renunciation of the world. That which is called religious merit is said to consist of true knowledge. The wise, therefore, have declared religious merit to be the foremost of all things and not the passage through the four successive modes. By practising the duties of even one of these four modes agreeable to the directions of the wise, we have attained to true merit, and, therefore, we do not desire the second or the third mode, viz., celibacy with study or renunciation. It is for this again that the wise have declared religious merit to be the foremost of all things!" Hearing these words of hers, Yama said, "Do thou desist! I have been pleased with these words of thine couched in proper letters and accents, and based on reason. Do thou ask for a boon! Except the life of thy husband, O thou of faultless features, I will bestow on thee any boon that thou mayst solicit!" Hearing these words, Savitri said, "Deprived of his kingdom and bereft also of sight, my father-in-law leadeth a life of retirement in our sylvan asylum. Let that king through thy favour attain his eye-sight, and become strong like either fire or the Sun!" Yama said, "O thou of faultless features, I grant thee this boon! It will even be as thou hast said! It seems that thou art fatigued with thy journey. Do thou desist, therefore, and return! Suffer not thyself to be weary any longer!" Savitri said, "What weariness can I feel in the presence of my husband? The lot that is my husband's is certainly mine also. Whither thou carriest my husband, thither will I also repair! O chief of the celestials, do thou again listen to me! Even a single interview with the pious is highly desirable; friendship with them is still more so. And intercourse with the virtuous can never be fruitless. Therefore, one should live in the company of the righteous!" Yama said, "These words that thou hast spoken, so fraught with useful instruction, delight the heart and enhance the wisdom of even the learned. Therefore, O lady, solicit thou a second boon, except the life of Satyavan!" Savitri said, "Sometime before, my wise and intelligent father-in-law was deprived of his kingdom. May that monarch regain his kingdom. And may that superior of mine never renounce his duties! Even this is the second boon that I solicit!" Then Yama said,--"The king shall soon regain his kingdom. Nor shall he ever fall off from his duties. Thus, O daughter of a king have I fulfilled thy desire. Do thou now desist! Return! Do not take any future trouble!" Savitri said, "Thou hast restrained all creatures by thy decrees, and it is by thy decrees that thou takest them away, not according to thy will. Therefore it is, O god, O divine one, that people call thee _Yama_! Do thou listen to the words that I say! The eternal duty of the good towards all creatures is never to injure them in thought, word, and deed, but to bear them love and give them their due. As regards this world, everything here is like this (husband of mine). Men are destitute of both devotion and skill. The good, however, show mercy to even their foes when these seek their protection." Yama said, "As water to the thirsty soul, so are these words uttered by thee to me! Therefore, do thou, O fair lady, if thou will, once again ask for any boon except Satyavana's life!" At these words Savitri replied, "That lord of earth, my father, is without sons. That he may have a hundred sons begotten of his loins, so that his line may be perpetuated, is the third boon I would ask of thee!" Yama said, "Thy sire, O auspicious lady, shall obtain a hundred illustrious sons, who will perpetuate and increase their father's race! Now, O daughter of a king, thou hast obtained thy wish. Do thou desist! Thou hast come far enough." Savitri said, "Staying by the side of my husband, I am not conscious of the length of the way I have walked. Indeed, my mind rusheth to yet a longer way off. Do thou again, as thou goest on, listen to the words that I will presently utter! Thou art the powerful son of Vivaswat. It is for this that thou art called _Vatvaswata_ by the wise. And, O lord, since thou dealest out equal law unto all created things, thou hast been designated the _lord of justice_! One reposeth not, even in one's own self, the confidence that one doth in the righteous. Therefore, every one wisheth particularly for intimacy with the righteous. It is goodness of heart alone that inspireth the confidence of all creatures. And it is for this that people rely particularly on the righteous." And hearing these words, Yama said, "The words that thou utterest, O fair lady, I have not heard from any one save thee; I am highly pleased with this speech of thine. Except the life of Satyavan, solicit thou, therefore, a fourth boon, and then go thy way!" Savitri then said, "Both of me and Satyavan's loins, begotten by both of us, let there be a century of sons possessed of strength and prowess and capable of perpetuating our race! Even this is the fourth boon that I would beg of thee!" Hearing these words of hers, Yama replied, "Thou shalt, O lady, obtain a century of sons, possessed of strength and prowess, and causing thee great delight. O daughter of a king, let no more weariness be thine! Do thou desist! Thou hast already come too far!" Thus addressed, Savitri said, "They that are righteous always practise eternal morality! And the communion of the pious with the pious is never fruitless! Nor is there any danger to the pious from those that are pious. And verily it is the righteous who by their truth make the Sun move in the heaven. And it is the righteous that support the earth by their austerities! And, O king, it is the righteous upon whom both the past and the future depend! Therefore, they that are righteous, are never cheerless in the company of the righteous. Knowing this to be the eternal practice of the good and righteous, they that are righteous continue to do good to others without expecting any benefit in return. A good office is never thrown away on the good and virtuous. Neither interest nor dignity suffereth any injury by such an act. And since such conduct ever adheres to the righteous, the righteous often become the protectors of all." Hearing these words of hers, Yama replied, "The more thou utterest such speeches that are pregnant with great import, full of honeyed phrases, instinct with morality, and agreeable to mind, the more is the respect that I feel for thee! O thou that art so devoted to thy lord, ask for some incomparable boon!" Thus addressed, Savitri said, "O bestower of honours, the boon thou hast already given me is incapable of accomplishment without union with my husband. Therefore, among other boons, I ask for this, may this Satyavan be restored to life! Deprived of my husband, I am as one dead! Without my husband, I do not wish for happiness. Without my husband, I do not wish for heaven itself. Without my husband, I do not wish for prosperity. Without my husband, I cannot make up my mind to live! Thou thyself hast bestowed on me the boon, namely, of a century of sons; yet thou takest away my husband! I ask for this boon, 'May Satyavan be restored to life,' for by that thy words will be made true."' "Markandeya continued, 'Thereupon saying,--_So be it_,--Vivaswat's son, Yama, the dispenser of justice, untied his noose, and with cheerful heart said these words to Savitri, "Thus, O auspicious and chaste lady, is thy husband freed by me! Thou wilt be able to take him back free from disease. And he will attain to success! And along with thee, he will attain a life of four hundred years. And celebrating sacrifices with due rites, he will achieve great fame in this world. And upon thee Satyavan will also beget a century of sons. And these Kshatriyas with their sons and grandsons will all be kings, and will always be famous in connection with thy name. And thy father also will beget a hundred sons on thy mother Malavi. And under the name of the _Malavas_, thy Kshatriya brothers, resembling the celestials, will be widely known along with their sons and daughters!" And having bestowed these boons on Savitri and having thus made her desist, Yama departed for his abode. Savitri, after Yama had gone away, went back to the spot where her husband's ash-coloured corpse lay, and seeing her lord on the ground, she approached him, and taking hold of him, she placed his head on her lap and herself sat down on the ground. Then Satyavan regained his consciousness, and affectionately eyeing Savitri again and again, like one come home after a sojourn in a strange land, he addressed her thus, "Alas, I have slept long! Wherefore didst thou not awake me? And where is that same sable person that was dragging me away?" At these words of his, Savitri said, "Thou hast, O bull among men, slept long on my lap! That restrainer of creatures, the worshipful Yama, had gone away. Thou art refreshed, O blessed one, and sleep hath forsaken thee, O son of a king! If thou art able, rise thou up! Behold, the night is deep!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Having regained consciousness, Satyavan rose up like one who had enjoyed a sweet sleep, and seeing every side covered with woods, said, "O girl of slender waist, I came with thee for procuring fruits. Then while I was cutting wood I felt a pain in my head. And on account of that intense pain about my head I was unable to stand for any length of time, and, therefore, I lay on thy lap and slept. All this, O auspicious lady, I remember. Then, as thou didst embrace me, sleep stole away my senses. I then saw that it was dark all around. In the midst of it I saw a person of exceeding effulgence. If thou knowest everything, do thou then, O girl of slender waist, tell me whether what I saw was only a dream or a reality!" Thereupon, Savitri addressed him, saying, "The night deepens. I shall, O prince, relate everything unto thee on the morrow. Arise, arise, may good betide thee! And, O thou of excellent vows, come and behold thy parents! The sun hath set a long while ago and the night deepens. Those rangers of the night, having frightful voices, are walking about in glee. And sounds are heard, proceeding from the denizens of the forest treading through the woods. These terrible shrieks of jackals that are issuing from the south and the east make my heart tremble (in fear)!" Satyavan then said, "Covered with deep darkness, the wilderness hath worn a dreadful aspect. Thou wilt, therefore, not be able to discern the tract, and consequently wilt not be able to go!" Then Savitri replied, "In consequence of a conflagration having taken place in the forest today a withered tree standeth aflame, and the flames being stirred by the wind are discerned now and then. I shall fetch some fire and light these faggots around. Do thou dispel all anxiety. I will do all (this) if thou darest not go, for I find thee unwell. Nor wilt thou be able to discover the way through this forest enveloped in darkness. Tomorrow when the woods become visible, we will go hence, if thou please! If, O sinless one, it is thy wish, we shall pass this night even here!" At these words of hers, Satyavan replied, "The pain in my head is off; and I feel well in my limbs. With thy favour I wish to behold my father and mother. Never before did I return to the hermitage after the proper time had passed away. Even before it is twilight my mother confineth me within the asylum. Even when I come out during the day, my parents become anxious on my account, and my father searcheth for me, together with all the inhabitants of the sylvan asylums. Before this, moved by deep grief, my father and mother had rebuked me many times and often, saying,--_Thou comest having tarried long_! I am thinking of the pass they have today come to on my account, for, surely, great grief will be theirs when they miss me. One night before this, the old couple, who love me dearly, wept from deep sorrow and said into me, 'Deprived of thee, O son, we cannot live for even a moment. As long as thou livest, so long, surely, we also will live. Thou art the crutch of these blind ones; on thee doth perpetuity of our race depend. On thee also depend our funeral cake, our fame and our descendants!' My mother is old, and my father also is so. I am surely their crutch. If they see me not in the night, what, oh, will be their plight! I hate that slumber of mine for the sake of which my unoffending mother and my father have both been in trouble, and I myself also, am placed in such rending distress! Without my father and mother, I cannot bear to live. It is certain that by this time my blind father, his mind disconsolate with grief, is asking everyone of the inhabitants of the hermitage about me! I do not, O fair girl, grieve so much for myself as I do for my sire, and for my weak mother ever obedient to her lord! Surely, they will be afflicted with extreme anguish on account of me. I hold my life so long as they live. And I know that they should be maintained by me and that I should do only what is agreeable to them!"' "Markandeya continued, 'Having said this, that virtuous youth who loved and revered his parents, afflicted with grief held up his arms and began to lament in accents of woe. And seeing her lord overwhelmed with sorrow the virtuous Savitri wiped away the tears from his eyes and said, "If I have observed austerities, and have given away in charity, and have performed sacrifice, may this night be for the good of my father-in-law, mother-in-law and husband! I do not remember having told a single falsehood, even in jest. Let my father-in-law and mother-in-law hold their lives by virtue of the truth!" Satyavan said, "I long for the sight of my father and mother! Therefore, O Savitri, proceed without delay. O beautiful damsel, I swear by my own self that if I find any evil to have befallen my father and mother, I will not live. If thou hast any regard for virtue, if thou wishest me to live, if it is thy duty to do what is agreeable to me, proceed thou to the hermitage!" The beautiful Savitri then rose and tying up her hair, raised her husband in her arms. And Satyavan having risen, rubbed his limbs with his hands. And as he surveyed all around, his eyes fell upon his wallet. Then Savitri said unto him, "Tomorrow thou mayst gather fruits. And I shall carry thy axe for thy ease." Then hanging up the wallet upon the bough of a tree, and taking up the axe, she re-approached her husband. And that lady of beautiful thighs, placing her husband's left arm upon her left shoulder, and embracing him with her right arms, proceeded with elephantic gait. Then Satyavan said, "O timid one, by virtue of habit, the (forest) paths are known to me. And further, by the light of the moon between the trees, I can see them. We have now reached the same path that we took in the morning for gathering fruits. Do thou, O auspicious one, proceed by the way that we had come: thou needst not any longer feel dubious about our path. Near that tract overgrown with _Palasa_ tree, the way diverges into two. Do thou proceed along the path that lies to the north of it. I am now well and have got back my strength. I long to see my father and mother!" Saying this Satyavan hastily proceeded towards the hermitage.'" SECTION CCLXLVI "Markandeya said, 'Meanwhile the mighty Dyumatsena, having regained his sight, could see everything. And when his vision grew clear he saw everything around him. And, O bull of the Bharata race, proceeding with his wife Saivya to all the (neighbouring) asylums in search of his son, he became extremely distressed on his account. And that night the old couple went about searching in asylums, and rivers, and woods, and floods. And whenever they heard any sound, they stood rising their heads, anxiously thinking that their son was coming, and said, "O yonder cometh Satyavan with Savitri!" And they rushed hither and thither like maniacs, their feet torn, cracked, wounded, and bleeding, pierced with thorns and _Kusa_ blades. Then all the Brahmanas dwelling in that hermitage came unto them, and surrounding them on all sides, comforted them, and brought them back to their own asylum. And there Dyumatsena with his wife surrounded by aged ascetics, was entertained with stories of monarchs of former times. And although that old couple desirous of seeing their son, was comforted, yet recollecting the youthful days of their son, they became exceedingly sorry. And afflicted with grief, they began to lament in piteous accents, saying, "Alas, O son, alas, O chaste daughter-in-law, where are you?" Then a truthful Brahmana of the name of Suvarchas spake unto them, saying, "Considering the austerities, self-restraint, and behaviour of his wife Savitri, there can be no doubt that Satyavan liveth!" And Gautama said, "I have studied all the _Vedas_ with their branches, and I have acquired great ascetic merit. And I have led a celibate existence, practising also the _Brahmacharya_ mode of life. I have gratified Agni and my superiors. With rapt soul I have also observed all the vows: and I have according to the ordinance, frequently lived upon air alone. By virtue of this ascetic merit, I am cognisant of all the doings of others. Therefore, do thou take it for certain that Satyavan liveth." Thereupon his disciple said, "The words that have fallen from the lips of my preceptor can never be false. Therefore, Satyavan surely liveth." And the _Rishi_ said, "Considering the auspicious marks that his wife Savitri beareth and all of which indicate immunity from widowhood, there can be no doubt that Satyavan liveth!" And Varadwaja said, "Having regard to the ascetic merit, self-restraint, and conduct of his wife Savitri, there can be no doubt that Satyavan liveth." And Dalbhya said, "Since thou hast regained thy sight, and since Savitri hath gone away after completion of the vow, without taking any food, there can be no doubt that Satyavan liveth." And Apastamba said, "From the manner in which the voices of birds and wild animals are being heard through the stillness of the atmosphere on all sides, and from the fact also of thy having regained the use of thy eyes, indicating thy usefulness for earthly purposes once more, there can be no doubt that Satyavan liveth." And Dhaumya said, "As thy son is graced with every virtue, and as he is the beloved of all, and as he is possessed of marks betokening a long life, there can be no doubt that Satyavan liveth."' "Markandeya continued, 'Thus cheered by those ascetics of truthful speech, Dyumatsena pondering over those points, attained a little ease. A little while after, Savitri with her husband Satyavan reached the hermitage during the night and entered it with a glad heart. The Brahmanas then said, "Beholding this meeting with thy son, and thy restoration to eye-sight, we all wish thee well, O lord of earth. Thy meeting with thy son, the sight of thy daughter-in-law, and thy restoration to sight--constitute a threefold prosperity which thou hast gained. What we all have said must come to pass: there can be no doubt of this. Henceforth thou shalt rapidly grow in prosperity." Then, O Pritha's son, the twice-born ones lighted a fire and sat themselves down before king Dyumatsena. And Saivya, and Satyavan, and Savitri who stood apart, their hearts free from grief, sat down with the permission of them all. Then, O Partha, seated with the monarch those dwellers of the woods, actuated by curiosity, asked the king's son, saying, "Why didst thou not, O illustrious one, come back earlier with thy wife? Why hast thou come so late in the night? What obstacle prevented thee! We do not know, O son of a king, why thou hast caused such alarm to us, and to thy father and mother. It behoveth thee to tell us all about this." Thereupon, Satyavan said, "With the permission of my father, I went to the woods with Savitri. There, as I was hewing wood in the forest, I felt a pain in my head. And in consequence of the pain, I fell into a deep sleep.--This is all that I remember. I had never slept so long before I have come so late at night, in order that ye might not grieve (on my account). There is no other reason for this." Gautama then said, "Thou knowest not then the cause of thy father's sudden restoration to sight. It, therefore, behoveth Savitri to relate it. I wish to hear it (from thee), for surely thou art conversant with the mysteries of good and evil. And, O Savitri, I know thee to be like the goddess _Savitri_ herself in splendour. Thou must know the cause of this. Therefore, do thou relate it truly! If it should not be kept a secret, do thou unfold it unto us!" At these words of Gautama Savitri said, "It is as ye surmise. Your desire shall surely not be unfulfilled. I have no secret to keep. Listen to the truth then! The high-souled Narada had predicted the death of my husband. To-day was the appointed time. I could not, therefore, bear to be separated from my husband's company. And after he had fallen asleep, Yama, accompanied by his messengers, presented himself before him, and tying him, began to take him away towards the region inhabited by the _Pitris_. Thereupon I began to praise that august god, with truthful words. And he granted me five boons, of which do ye hear from me! For my father-in-law I have obtained these two boons, viz., his restoration to sight as also to his kingdom. My father also hath obtained a hundred sons. And I myself have obtained a hundred sons. And my husband Satyavan hath obtained a life of four hundred years. It was for the sake of my husband's life that I had observed that vow. Thus have I narrated unto you in detail the cause by which this mighty misfortune of mine was afterwards turned into happiness." The _Rishis_ said, "O chaste lady of excellent disposition, observant of vows and endued with virtue, and sprung from an illustrious line, by thee hath the race of this foremost of kings, which was overwhelmed with calamities, and was sinking in an ocean of darkness, been rescued."' "Markandeya continued, 'Then having applauded and reverenced that best of women, those _Rishis_ there assembled bade farewell to that foremost of kings as well as to his son. And having saluted them thus, they speedily went, in peace with cheerful hearts, to their respective abodes.'" SECTION CCLXLVII "Markandeya continued, 'When the night had passed away, and the solar orb had risen, those ascetics, having performed their morning rites, assembled together. And although those mighty sages again and again spake unto Dyumatsena of the high fortune of Savitri, yet they were never satisfied. And it so happened, O king, that there came to that hermitage a large body of people from Salwa. And they brought tidings of the enemy of Dyumatsena having been slain by his own minister. And they related unto him all that had happened, viz., how having heard that the usurper had been slain with all his friends and allies by his minister, his troops had all fled, and how all the subjects had become unanimous (on behalf of their legitimate king), saying, "Whether possessed of sight or not, even he shall be our king!" And they said, "We have been sent to thee in consequence of that resolve. This car of thine, and this army also consisting of four kinds of forces, have arrived for thee! Good betide thee, O King! Do thou come! Thou hast been proclaimed in the city. Do thou for ever occupy the station belonging to thy father and grand-father!" And beholding the king possessed of sight and able-bodied, they bowed down their heads, their eyes expanded with wonder. Then having worshipped those old and Brahmanas dwelling in the hermitage and honoured by them in return, the king set out for his city. And surrounded by the soldiers, Saivya also accompanied by Savitri, went in a vehicle furnished with shining sheets and borne on the shoulders of men. Then the priests with joyful hearts installed Dyumatsena on the throne with his high-souled son as prince-regent. And after the lapse of a long time, Savitri gave birth to a century of sons, all warlike and unretreating from battle, and enhancing the fame of Salwa's race. And she also had a century of highly powerful uterine brothers born unto Aswapati, the lord of the Madras, by Malavi. Thus, O son of Pritha, did Savitri raise from pitiable plight to high fortune, herself, and her father and mother, her father-in-law and mother-in-law, as also the race of her husband. And like that gentle lady Savitri, the auspicious daughter of Drupada, endued with excellent character, will rescue you all.'" Vaisampayana said, "Thus exhorted by that high-souled sage, the son of Pandu, O king, with his mind free from anxiety, continued to live in the forest of Kamyaka. The man that listeneth with reverence to the excellent story of Savitri, attaineth to happiness, and success in everything, and never meeteth with misery!" SECTION CCLXLVIII Janamejaya said,--"What, O Brahmana, was that great fear entertained by Yudhishthira in respect of Karna, for which Lomasa had conveyed to the son of Pandu a message of deep import from Indra in these words, _That intense fear of thine which thou dost never express to any one, I will remove after Dhananjaya goeth from hence?_ And, O best of ascetics, why was it that the virtuous Yudhishthira never expressed it to any one?" Vaisampayana said, "As thou askest me, O tiger among kings, I will relate that history unto thee! Do thou listen to my words, O best of the Bharatas! After twelve years (of their exile) had passed away and the thirteenth year had set in, Sakra, ever friendly to the sons of Pandu, resolved to beg of Karna (his ear-rings). And, O mighty monarch, ascertaining this intention of the great chief of the celestials about (Karna's) ear-rings, Surya, having effulgence for his wealth, went unto Karna. And, O foremost of kings, while that hero devoted to the Brahmanas and truthful in speech was lying down at night at his ease on a rich bed overlaid with a costly sheet, the effulgent deity, filled with kindness and affection for his son, showed himself, O Bharata, unto him in his dreams. And assuming from ascetic power the form of a handsome Brahmana versed in the _Vedas_, Surya sweetly said unto Karna these words for his benefit, 'O son, do thou O Karna, listen to these words of mine, O thou foremost of truthful persons! O mighty-armed one, I tell thee to-day from affection, what is for thy great good! With the object, O Karna, of obtaining thy ear-rings, Sakra, moved by the desire of benefiting the sons of Pandu, will come unto thee, disguised as a Brahmana! He, as well as all the world, knoweth thy character, viz., that when solicited by pious people, thou givest away but never takest in gift! Thou, O son, givest unto Brahmanas wealth or any other thing that is asked of thee and never refusest anything to anybody. Knowing thee to be such, the subduer himself of Paka will come to beg of thee thy ear-rings and coat of mail. When he beggeth the ear-rings of thee, it behoveth thee not to give them away, but to gratify him with sweet speeches to the best of thy power. Even this, is for thy supreme good! While asking thee for the ear-rings, thou shalt, with various reasons, repeatedly refuse Purandara who is desirous of obtaining them, offering him, instead, various other kinds of wealth, such as gems and women and kine, and citing various precedents. If thou, O Karna, givest away thy beautiful ear-rings born with thee, thy life being shortened, thou wilt meet with death! Arrayed in thy mail and ear-rings, thou wilt, O bestower of honours, be incapable of being slain by foes in battle! Do thou lay to heart these words of mine! Both these jewelled ornaments have sprung from _Amrita_. Therefore, they should be preserved by thee, if thy life is at all dear to thee.' "Hearing these words, Karna said, 'Who art thou that tellest me so, showing me such kindness? If it pleaseth thee, tell me, O illustrious one, who thou art in the guise of a Brahmana!'--The Brahmana thereupon said, 'O son, I am he of a thousand rays! Out of affection, I point out to thee the path! Act thou according to my words, as it is for thy great good to do so!' Karna replied, 'Surely, this itself is highly fortunate for me that the god himself of splendour addresses me today, seeking my welfare. Listen, however, to these words of mine! May it please thee, O bestower of boons, it is only from affection that I tell thee this! If I am dear to thee, I should not be dissuaded from the observance of my vow! O thou that are possessed of the wealth of effulgence, the whole world knoweth this to be my vow that, of a verity, I am prepared to give away life itself unto superior Brahmanas! If, O best of all rangers of the sky, Sakra cometh to me, disguised as a Brahmana, to beg for the benefit of the sons of Pandu, I will, O chief of the celestials, give him the ear-rings and the excellent mail, so that my fame which hath spread over the three worlds may not suffer any diminution! For persons like us, it is not fit to save life by a blame-worthy act. On the contrary, it is even proper for us to meet death with the approbation of the world and under circumstances bringing fame. Therefore, will I bestow upon Indra the ear-rings with my coat of mail! If the slayer himself of Vala and Vritra cometh to ask for the ear-rings for the benefit of the sons of Pandu, that will conduce to my fame, leading at the same time to _his_ infamy! O thou possessed of splendour, I wish for fame in this world, even if it is to be purchased with life itself, for they that have fame enjoy the celestial regions, while they that are destitute of it are lost. Fame keepeth people alive in this world even like a mother, while infamy killeth men even though they may move about with bodies undestroyed. O lord of the worlds, O thou possessed of the wealth of effulgence, that fame is the life of men is evidenced by an ancient _sloka_ sung by the Creator himself,--_In the next world it is fame that is the chief support of a person, while in this world pure fame lengthens life_. Therefore, by giving away my ear-rings and mail with both of which I was born I will win eternal fame! And by duly giving away the same to Brahmanas according to the ordinance, by offering up my body (as a gift to the gods) in the sacrifice of war, by achieving feats difficult of performance, and by conquering my foes in fight, I will acquire nothing but renown. And by dispelling on the field of battle the fears of the affrighted that may beg for their lives, and relieving old men and boys and Brahmanas from terror and anxiety, I will win excellent fame and the highest heaven. My fame is to be protected with the sacrifice of even my life. Even this, know thou, is my vow! By giving away such a valuable gift to Maghavan disguised as a Brahmana, I will, O god, acquire in this world the most exalted state.'" SECTION CCLXLIX "Surya said, 'Never do, O Karna, anything that is harmful to thy self and thy friends; thy sons, thy wives, thy father, and thy mother; O thou best of those that bear life, people desire renown (in this world) and lasting fame in heaven, without wishing to sacrifice their bodies. But as thou desirest undying fame at the expense of thy life, she will, without doubt, snatch away thy life! O bull among men, in this world, the father, the mother, the son, and other relatives are of use only to him that is alive. O tiger among men, as regard kings, it is only when they are alive that prowess can be of any use to them. Do thou understand this? O thou of exceeding splendour, fame is for the good of these only that are alive! Of what use is fame to the dead whose bodies have been reduced to ashes? One that is dead cannot enjoy renown. It is only when one is alive that one can enjoy it. The fame of one that is dead is like a garland of flowers around the neck of a corpse. As thou reverest me, I tell thee this for thy benefit, because thou art a worshipper of mine! They that worship me are always protected by me. That also is another reason for my addressing thee thus! Thinking again, O mighty-armed one, that _this one revereth me with great reverence_, I have been inspired with love for thee! Do thou, therefore, act according to my words! There is, besides some profound mystery in all this, ordained by fate. It is for this, that I tell thee so. Do thou act without mistrust of any kind! O bull among men, it is not fit for thee to know this which is a secret to the very gods. Therefore, I do not reveal that secret unto thee. Thou wilt, however, understand it in time. I repeat what I have already said. Do thou, O Radha's son, lay my words to heart! When the wielder of the thunder-bolt asketh thee for them, do thou never give him thy ear-rings! O thou of exceeding splendour, with thy handsome ear-rings, thou lookest beautiful, even like the Moon himself in the clear firmament, between the _Visakha_ constellation! Dost thou know that fame availeth only the person that is living. Therefore, when the lord of the celestials will ask the ear-rings, thou shouldst, O son, refuse him! Repeating again and again answers fraught with various reasons, thou wilt, O sinless one, be able to remove the eagerness of the lord of the celestial for the possession of the ear-rings. Do thou, O Karna, alter Purandara's purpose by urging answers fraught with reason and grave import and adorned with sweetness and suavity. Thou dost always, O tiger among men, challenge him that can draw the bow with his left hand, and heroic Arjuna also will surely encounter thee in fight. But when furnished with thy ear-rings, Arjuna will never be able to vanquish thee in fight even if Indra himself comes to his assistance. Therefore, O Karna, if thou wishest to vanquish Arjuna in battle, these handsome ear-rings of thine should never be parted with to Sakra.'" SECTION CCC "Karna said, 'As thou, O lord of splendour, knowest me for thy worshipper, so also thou knowest that there is nothing which I cannot give away in charity, O thou of fiery rays! Neither my wives, nor my sons, nor my own self, nor my friends, are so dear to me as thou, on account of the veneration I feel for thee, O lord of splendour! Thou knowest, O maker of light, that high-souled persons bear a loving regard for their dear worshippers. _Karna revereth me and is dear to me. He knoweth no other deity in heaven_,--thinking this thou hast, O lord, said unto me what is for my benefit. Yet, O thou of bright rays, again do I beseech thee with bended head, again do I place myself in thy hands. I will repeat the answer I have already given. It behoveth thee to forgive me! Death itself is not fraught with such terrors for me as untruth! As regards especially the Brahmanas, again, I do not hesitate to yield up my life even for them! And, O divine one, respecting what thou hast said unto me of Phalguna, the son of Pandu, let thy grief born of thy anxiety of heart, O lord of splendour, be dispelled touching him and myself; for I shall surely conquer Arjuna in battle! Thou knowest, O deity, that I have great strength of weapons obtained from Jamadagnya and the high-souled Drona. Permit me now, O foremost of celestials, to observe my vow, so that unto him of the thunderbolt coming to beg of me, I may give away even my life!' "Surya said, 'If O son, thou givest away thy ear-rings to the wielder of the thunder-bolt, O thou of mighty strength, thou shouldst also, for the purpose of securing victory, speak unto him, saying,--_O thou of a hundred sacrifices, I shall give thee ear-rings under a condition_.--Furnished with the ear-rings, thou art certainly incapable of being slain by any being. Therefore, it is, O son, that desirous of beholding thee slain in battle by Arjuna, the destroyer of the Danavas desireth to deprive thee of thy ear-rings. Repeatedly adoring with truthful words that lord of the celestials, viz., Purandara armed with weapons incapable of being frustrated, do thou also beseech him, saying, "Give me an infallible dart capable of slaying all foes, and I will, O thousand-eyed deity, give the ear-rings with the excellent coat of mail!" On this condition shouldst thou give the ear-rings unto Sakra. With that dart, O Karna, thou wilt slay foes in battle: for, O mighty-armed one, that dart of the chief of the celestials doth not return to the hand that hurleth it, without slaying enemies by hundreds and by thousands!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, the thousand-rayed deity suddenly vanished away. The next day, after having told his prayers, Karna related his dream unto the Sun. And Vrisha related unto him the vision he had seen, and all that had passed between them in the night. Thereupon, having heard everything, that enemy of Swarbhanu, that lord, the resplendent and divine Surya, said unto him with a smile, 'It is even so!' Then Radha's son, that slayer of hostile heroes, knowing all about the matter, and desirous of obtaining the dart, remained in expectation of Vasava." SECTION CCCI Janamejaya said, "What was that secret which was not revealed to Karna by the deity of warm rays? Of what kind also were those ear-rings and of what sort was that coat of mail? Whence, too, was that mail and those ear-rings? All this, O best of men. I wish to hear! O thou possessed of the wealth of asceticism, do tell me all this!" Vaisampayana said, "I will, O monarch, tell thee that secret which was not revealed by the deity possessed of the wealth of effulgence. I will also describe unto thee those ear-rings and that coat of mail. Once on a time, O king, there appeared before Kuntibhoja a Brahmana of fierce energy and tall stature, bearing a beard and matted locks, and carrying a staff in his hand. And, he was agreeable to the eye and of faultless limbs, and seemed to blaze forth in splendour. And he was possessed of a yellow-blue complexion like that of honey. And his speech was mellifluous, and he was adorned with ascetic merit and a knowledge of the _Vedas_. And that person of great ascetic merit, addressing king Kuntibhoja, said, 'O thou that are free from pride, I wish to live as a guest in thy house feeding on the food obtained as alms from thee! Neither thy followers, nor thou thyself, shall ever act in such a way as to produce my displeasure! If, O sinless one, it liketh thee, I would then live in thy house thus! I shall leave thy abode when I wish, and come back when I please. And, O king, no one shall offend me in respect of my food or bed.'--Then Kuntibhoja spake unto him these words cheerfully, 'Be it so, and more.' And he again said unto him, 'O thou of great wisdom, I have an illustrious daughter named Pritha. And she beareth an excellent character, is observant of vow, chaste, and of subdued senses. And she shall attend on thee and minister unto thee with reverence. And thou wilt be pleased with her disposition!' And having said this to that Brahmana and duly paid him homage, the king went to his daughter Pritha of large eyes, and spake thus unto her, 'O child, this eminently pious Brahmana is desirous of dwelling in my house! I have accepted his proposal, saying,--_So be it_, relying, O child, on thy aptitude and skill in ministering unto Brahmanas. It, therefore, behoveth thee to act in such a manner that my words may not be untrue. Do thou give him with alacrity whatever this reverend Brahmana possessed of ascetic merit and engaged in the study of the Vedas, may want. Let everything that this Brahmana asketh for be given to him cheerfully. A Brahmana is the embodiment of pre-eminent energy: he is also the embodiment of the highest ascetic merit. It is in consequence of the virtuous practices of Brahmanas that the sun shineth in the heavens. It was for their disregard of Brahmanas that were deserving of honour that the mighty _Asura_ Vatapi, as also Talajangha, was destroyed by the curse of the Brahmanas. For the present, O child, it is a highly virtuous one of that order that is entrusted to thy keep. Thou shouldst always tend this Brahmana with concentrated mind. O daughter, I know that, from childhood upwards, thou hast ever been attentive to Brahmanas, and superiors, and relatives, and servants, and friends, to thy mothers and myself. I know thou bearest thyself well, bestowing proper regard upon everyone. And, O thou of faultless limbs, in the city of the interior of my palace, on account of thy gentle behaviour, there is not one, even among the servants, that is dissatisfied with thee. I have, therefore, thought thee fit to wait upon all Brahmanas of wrathful temper. Thou art, O Pritha, a girl and has been adopted as my daughter. Thou art born in the race of the Vrishnis, and art the favourite daughter of Sura. Thou wert, O girl, given to me gladly by thy father himself. The sister of Vasudeva by birth, thou art (by adoption) the foremost of my children. Having promised me in these words,--_I will give my first born_,--thy father gladly gave thee to me while thou wert yet in thy infancy. It is for this reason that thou art my daughter. Born in such a race and reared in such a race, thou hast come from one happy state to another like a lotus transferred from one lake to another. O auspicious girl, women, specially they that are of mean extraction, although they may with difficulty be kept under restraint, become in consequence of their unripe age, generally deformed in character. But thou, O Pritha, art born in a royal race, and thy beauty also is extraordinary. And then, O girl, thou art endued with every accomplishment. Do thou, therefore, O damsel, renouncing pride and haughtiness and a sense of self-importance, wait upon and worship the boon-giving Brahmana, and thereby attain, O Pritha, to an auspicious state! By acting thus, O auspicious and sinless girl, thou wilt surely attain to auspiciousness! But if on the contrary, thou stirrest up the anger of this best of the twice-born ones, my entire race will be consumed by him!'" SECTION CCCII "Kunti said, 'According to thy promise, I will, O king, with concentrated mind, serve that Brahmana. O foremost of kings, I do not say this falsely. It is my nature to worship Brahmanas. And, as in the present case, my doing so would be agreeable to thee, even this would be highly conducive to my welfare. Whether that worshipful one cometh in the evening, or in morning, or at night or even at midnight, he will have no reason to be angry with me! O foremost of kings, to do good by serving the twice-born ones, observing all thy commands, is what I consider to be highly profitable to me, O best of men! Do thou, therefore, O foremost of monarchs rely on me! That best of Brahmanas, while residing in thy house, shall never have cause for dissatisfaction, I tell thee truly. I shall, O king, be always attentive to that which is agreeable to this Brahmana, and what is fraught also with good to thee. O sinless one! I know full well that Brahmanas that are eminently virtuous, when propitiated bestow salvation, and when displeased, are capable of bringing about destruction upon the offender. Therefore, I shall please this foremost of Brahmanas. Thou wilt not, O monarch, come to any grief from that best of regenerate persons, owing to any act of mine. In consequence of the transgressions of monarchs, Brahmanas, O foremost of kings, became the cause of evil to them, as Chyavana had become, in consequence of the act of Sukanya. I will, therefore, O king, with great regularity, wait upon that best of Brahmanas according to thy instructions in that respect!' And when she had thus spoken at length, the king embraced and cheered her, and instructed her in detail as to what should be done by her. And the king said, 'Thou shall, O gentle maid, act even thus, without fear, for my good as also thy own, and for the good of thy race also, O thou of faultless limbs!' And having said this the illustrious Kuntibhoja, who was devoted to the Brahmanas, made over the girl Pritha to that Brahmana, saying, 'This my daughter, O Brahmana, is of tender age and brought up in luxury. If, therefore, she transgresses at any time, do thou not take that to heart! Illustrious Brahmanas are never angry with old men, children, and ascetics, even if these transgress frequently. In respect of even a great wrong forgiveness is due from the regenerate. The worship, therefore, O best of Brahmanas, that is offered to the best of one's power and exertion, should be acceptable!' Hearing these words of the monarch, the Brahmana said, 'So be it!' Thereupon, the king became highly pleased and assigned unto him apartments that were white as swans or the beams of the moon. And in the room intended for the sacrificial fire, the king placed a brilliant seat especially constructed for him. And the food and other things that were offered unto the Brahmana were of the same excellent kind. And casting aside idleness and all sense of self-importance, the princess addressed herself with right good will to wait upon the Brahmana. And the chaste Kunti, endued with purity of conduct, went thither for serving the Brahmana. And duly waiting upon that Brahmana as if he were a very god, she gratified him highly." SECTION CCCIII Vaisampayana said, "And that maiden of rigid vows, O mighty monarch, by serving with a pure heart, that Brahmana of rigid vows, succeeded in gratifying him. And, O foremost of kings, saying, 'I will come back in the morning,' that best of Brahmanas sometimes came in the evening or in night. Him, however, the maiden worshipped at all hours with sumptuous food and drink and bed. And as day after day passed away, her attentions to him, in respect of food and seat and bed, increased instead of undergoing any diminution. And, O king, even when the Brahmana reproved her, finding fault with any of her arrangements, or addressed her in harsh words, Pritha did not do anything that was disagreeable to him. And on many occasions the Brahmana came back after the appointed hour had long passed away. And on many occasions (such as the depth of night) when food was hard to procure, he said, 'Give me food!' But on all those occasions saying, 'All is ready,'--Pritha held before him the fare. And even like a disciple, daughter, or a sister, that blameless gem of a girl with a devoted heart, O king, gratified that foremost of Brahmanas. And that best of Brahmanas became well-pleased with her conduct and ministrations. And he received those attentions of hers, valuing them rightly. And, O Bharata, her father asked her every morning and evening saying, 'O daughter, is the Brahmana satisfied with thy ministrations?' And that illustrious maiden used to reply, 'Exceedingly well!' And thereupon, the high-souled Kuntibhoja experienced the greatest delight. And when after a full year that best of ascetics was unable to find any fault whatever in Pritha, who was engaged in ministering unto him, well-pleased he said unto her, 'O gentle maid, I have been well-pleased with thy attentions, O beautiful girl! Do thou, O blessed girl, ask even for such boons as are difficult of being obtained by men in this world, and obtaining which, thou mayst surpass in fame all the women in this world.' At these words of his, Kunti said, 'Everything hath already been done in my behalf since thou, O chief of those that are versed in the _Vedas_, and my father also, have been pleased with me! As regards the boons, I consider them as already obtained by me, O Brahmana!' The Brahmana thereupon said, 'If, O gentle maid, thou dost not, O thou of sweet smiles, wish to obtain boons from me, do thou then take this _mantra_ from me for invoking the celestials! Any one amongst the celestials whom thou mayst invoke by uttering this _mantra_, will appear before thee and be under thy power. Willing or not, by virtue of this _mantra_, that deity in gentle guise, and assuming the obedient attitude of slave, will become subject to thy power!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed, that faultless maiden could not, O king, from fear of a curse, refuse for the second time compliance with the wishes of that best of the twice-born ones. Then, O king, that Brahmana imparted unto that girl of faultless limbs those _mantras_ which are recited in the beginning of the _Atharvan Veda_. And, O king, having imparted unto her those _mantras_, he said unto Kuntibhoja. 'I have, O monarch, dwelt happily in thy house, always worshipped with due regard and gratified by thy daughter. I shall now depart.' And saying this, he vanished there and then. And beholding that Brahmana vanish there and then, the king was struck with amazement. And the monarch then treated his daughter Pritha with proper regard." SECTION CCCIV Vaisampayana said, "When that foremost of Brahmanas had gone away on some other errand, the maiden began to ponder over the virtue of those _mantras_. And she said to herself, 'Of what nature are those _mantras_ that have been bestowed on me by that high-souled one? I shall without delay test their power.' And as she was thinking in this way, she suddenly perceived indications of the approach of her season. And her season having arrived, while she was yet unmarried, she blushed in shame. And it came to pass that as she was seated in her chamber on a rich bed, she beheld the solar orb rising in the east. And both the mind and the eyes of that maiden of excellent waist became rivetted fast upon the solar orb. And she gazed and gazed on that orb without being satiated with the beauty of the morning Sun. And she suddenly became gifted with celestial sight. And then she beheld that god of divine form accoutred in mail and adorned with ear-rings. And at sight of the god, O lord of men, she became curious as to the (potency of the) _mantras_. And thereupon that maiden resolved to invoke him. And having recourse to _Pranayama_, she invoked the Maker of day. And thus invoked by her, O king, the Maker of day speedily presented himself. And he was of a yellowish hue like honey, and was possessed of mighty arms, and his neck was marked with lines like those of a conchshell. And furnished with armlets, and decked with a diadem, he came smiling, and illumining all the directions. And it was by _Yoga_ power that he divided himself in twain, one of which continued to give heat, and the other appeared before Kunti. And he addressed Kunti in words that were exceedingly sweet, saying, 'O gentle maiden, over-powered by the _mantras_, I come hither obedient to thee. Subject as I am to thy power, what shall I do, O queen? Tell me, for I shall do whatever thou mayst command.' Hearing these words of the deity, Kunti said, 'O worshipful one, go thou back to the place thou hast come from! I invoked thee from curiosity alone. Pardon me, O worshipful one!' Surya then said, 'O damsel of slender waist, I will, even as thou hast said, return to the place I have come from! Having called a celestial, it is not, however, proper to send him away in vain. Thy intention, O blessed one, it is to have from Surya a son furnished with a coat of mail and ear-rings, and who in point of prowess would be beyond compare in this world! Do thou, therefore, O damsel of elephantine gait, surrender thy person to me! Thou shall then have, O lady, a son after thy wish! O gentle girl, O thou of sweet smiles, I will go back after having known thee! If thou do not gratify me to-day by obeying my word, I shall in anger curse thee, thy father and that Brahmana also. For thy fault, I will surely consume them all, and I shall inflict condign punishment on that foolish father of thine that knoweth not this transgression of thine and on that Brahmana who hath bestowed the _mantras_ on thee without knowing thy disposition and character! Yonder are all the celestials in heaven, with Purandara at their head, who are looking at me with derisive smiles at my being deceived by thee, O lady! Look at those celestials, for thou art now possessed of celestial sight! Before this I have endued thee with celestial vision, in consequence of which thou couldst see me!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thereupon the princess beheld the celestials standing in the firmament, each in his proper sphere, even as she saw before her that highly resplendent deity furnished with rays, viz., Surya himself. And beholding them all, the girl became frightened and her face was suffused with blushes of shame. And then she addressed Surya, saying, 'O lord of rays, go thou back to thy own region. On account of my maidenhood, this outrage of thine is fraught with woe to me! It is only one's father, mother, and other superiors, that are capable of giving away their daughter's body. Virtue I shall never sacrifice, seeing that in this world the keeping of their persons inviolate is deemed as the highest duty of Women, and is held in high regard! O thou possessed of wealth of splendour, it is only to test the power of my _mantras_ that I have, from mere childishness, summoned thee. Considering that this hath been done by a girl of tender years, it behoveth thee, O lord, to forgive her!' Then Surya said, 'It is because I consider thee a girl that, O Kunti, I am speaking to thee so mildly. To one that is not so I would not concede this. Do thou, O Kunti, surrender thyself! Thou shalt surely attain happiness thereby. Since, O timid maiden, thou hast invoked me with _mantras_, it is not proper for me to go away without any purpose being attained, for, if I do so I shall then, O thou of faultless limbs, be the object of laughter in the world, and, O beauteous damsel, a bye-word with all the celestials. Do thou, therefore, yield to me! By that thou shalt obtain a son even like myself, and thou shalt also be much praised in all the world.'" SECTION CCCV Vaisampayana said, "Although that noble girl addressed him in various sweet words, yet she was unable to dissuade that deity of a thousand rays. And when she failed to dissuade the dispeller of darkness, at last from fear of a curse, she reflected, O king, for a long time!--'How may my innocent father, and that Brahmana also, escape the angry Surya's curse for my sake? Although energy and asceticism are capable of destroying sins, yet even honest persons, if they be of unripe age, should not foolishly court them. By foolishly acting in that way I have today been placed in a frightful situation. Indeed, I have been placed entirely within the grasp of this deity. Ye how can I do what is sinful by taking it on myself to surrender my person to him?'" Vaisampayana continued, "afflicted with fear of a curse, and thinking much within herself, an utter stupefaction of the senses came upon her. And she was so confounded that she could not settle what to do. Afraid, on the one hand, O king, of the reproach of friends if she obeyed the deity, and, on the other, of his curse if she disobeyed him, the damsel at last, O foremost of kings, said these words unto that god, in accents tremulous with bashfulness, 'O god, as my father and mother and friends are still living, this violation of duty on my part should not take place. If, O god, I commit this unlawful act with thee, the reputation of this race shall be sacrificed in this world on my account. If thou, however, O thou foremost of those that impart heat, deem this to be a meritorious act, I shall then fulfil thy desire even though my relatives may not have bestowed me on thee! May I remain chaste after having surrendered my person to thee! Surely, the virtue, the reputation, the fame, and the life of every creature are established in thee!' Hearing these words of hers, Surya replied, 'O thou of sweet smiles, neither thy father, nor thy mother, nor any other superior of thine, is competent to give thee away! May good betide thee, O beauteous damsel! Do thou listen to my words! It is because a virgin desireth the company of every one, that she hath received the appellation of _Kanya_, from the root _kama_ meaning to desire. Therefore, O thou of excellent hips and the fairest complexion, a virgin is, by nature, free in this world. Thou shalt not, O lady, by any means, be guilty of any sin by complying with my request. And how can I, who am desirous of the welfare of all creatures, commit an unrighteous act? That all men and women should be bound by no restraints, is the law of nature. The opposite condition is the perversion of the natural state. Thou shalt remain a virgin after having gratified me. And thy son shall also be mighty-armed and illustrious.' Thereupon Kunti said, 'If, O dispeller of darkness, I obtain a son from thee, may he be furnished with a coat of mail and ear-rings, and may he be mighty-armed and endued with great strength!' Hearing these words of hers, Surya answered, 'O gentle maiden, thy son shall be mighty-armed and decked with ear-rings and a celestial coat of mail. And both his ear-rings and coat of mail will be made of _Amrita_, and his coat will also be invulnerable.' Kunti then said, 'If the excellent mail and ear-rings of the son thou wilt beget on me, be, indeed, made of _Amrita_, then, O god, O worshipful deity, let thy purpose be fulfilled! May he be powerful, strong, energetic, and handsome, even like thee, and may he also be endued with virtue!' Surya then said, 'O princess, O excellent damsel, these ear-rings had been given to me by Aditi. O timid lady, I will bestow them, as also this excellent mail, on thy son!' Kunti then said, 'Very well, O worshipful one! If my son, O lord of light, become so, I will, as thou sayest, gratify thee!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of hers Surya said, 'So be it!' And that ranger of the skies, that enemy of Swarbhanu, with soul absorbed in _Yoga_, entered into Kunti, and touched her on the navel. At this, that damsel, on account of Surya's energy, became stupefied. And that reverend lady then fell down on her bed, deprived of her senses. Surya then addressed her, saying, 'I will now depart, O thou of graceful hips! Thou shalt bring forth a son who will become the foremost of all wielders of weapons. At the same time thou shalt remain a virgin.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then, O foremost of kings, as the highly effulgent Surya was about to depart, that girl bashfully said unto him, 'So be it!' And it was thus that the daughter of king Kuntibhoja, importuned by Surya, had after soliciting a son from him, fallen down stupefied on that excellent bed, like a broken creeper. And it was thus that deity of fierce rays, stupefying her, entered into her by virtue of _Yoga_ power, and placed his own self within her womb. The deity, however, did not sully her by deflowering her in the flesh. And after Surya had gone away, that girl regained her consciousness." SECTION CCCVI Vaisampayana said, "It was, O lord of earth, on the first day of the lighted fortnight during the tenth month of the year that Pritha conceived a son like the lord himself of the stars in the firmament. And that damsel of excellent hips from fear of her friends, concealed her conception, so that no one knew her condition. And as the damsel lived entirely in the apartments assigned to the maidens and carefully concealed her condition, no one except her nurse knew the truth. And in due time that beauteous maiden, by the grace of deity, brought forth a son resembling a very god. And even like his father, the child was equipped in a coat of mail, and decked with brilliant ear-rings. And he was possessed of leonine eyes and shoulders like those of a bull. And no sooner was the beauteous girl delivered of a child, then she consulted with her nurse and placed the infant in a commodious and smooth box made of wicker work and spread over with soft sheets and furnished with a costly pillow. And its surface was laid over with wax, and it was encased in a rich cover. And with tears in her eyes, she carried the infant to the river Aswa, and consigned the basket to its waters. And although she knew it to be improper for an unmarried girl to bear offspring, yet from parental affection, O foremost of kings, she wept piteously. Do thou listen to the words Kunti weepingly uttered, while consigning the box to the waters of the river Aswa, 'O child, may good betide thee at the hands of all that inhabit the land, the water, the sky, and the celestial regions. May all thy paths be auspicious! May no one obstruct thy way! And, O son, may all that come across thee have their hearts divested of hostility towards thee: And may that lord of waters, Varuna, protect thee in water! And may the deity that rangeth the skies completely protect thee in the sky. And may, O son, that best of those that impart heat, viz., Surya, thy father, and from whom I have obtained thee as ordained by Destiny, protect thee everywhere! And may the _Adityas_ and the _Vasus_, the _Rudras_ and the _Sadhyas_, the _Viswadevas_ and the _Maruts_, and the cardinal points with the great Indra and the regents presiding over them, and, indeed, all the celestials, protect thee in every place! Even in foreign lands I shall be able to recognise thee by this mail of thine! Surely, thy sire, O son, the divine Surya possessed of the wealth of splendour, is blessed, for he will with his celestial sight behold thee going down the current! Blessed also is that lady who will, O thou that are begotten by a god, take thee for her son, and who will give thee suck when thou art thirsty! And what a lucky dream hath been dreamt by her that will adopt thee for her son, thee that is endued with solar splendour, and furnished with celestial mail, and adorned with celestial ear-rings, thee that hast expansive eyes resembling lotuses, a complexion bright as burnished copper or lotus leaves, a fair forehead, and hair ending in beautiful curls! O son, she that will behold thee crawl on the ground, begrimed with dust, and sweetly uttering inarticulate words, is surely blessed! And she also, O son, that will behold thee arrive at thy youthful prime like maned lion born in Himalayan forests, is surely blessed!'" "O king, having thus bewailed long and piteously, Pritha laid the basket on the waters of the river Aswa. And the lotus-eyed damsel, afflicted with grief on account of her son and weeping bitterly, with her nurse cast the basket at dead of night, and though desirous of beholding her son often and again, returned, O monarch, to the palace, fearing lest her father should come to know of what had happened. Meanwhile, the basket floated from the river Aswa to the river Charmanwati, and from the Charmanwati it passed to the Yamuna, and so on to the Ganga. And carried by the waves of the Ganga, the child contained in the basket came to the city of Champa ruled by a person of the _Suta_ tribe. Indeed, the excellent coat of mail and those ear-rings made of _Amrita_ that were born with his body, as also the ordinance of Destiny, kept the child alive." SECTION CCCVII Vaisampayana said, "And it came to pass that at this time a _Suta_ named Adhiratha, who was a friend of Dhritarashtra, came to the river Ganga, accompanied by his wife. And, O king, his wife named Radha was unparalleled on earth for beauty. And although that highly blessed dame had made great endeavours to obtain a son, yet she had failed, O represser of foes, to obtain one. And on coming to the river Ganga, she beheld a box drifting along the current. And containing articles capable of protecting from dangers and decked with unguents, that box was brought before her by the waves of the Janhavi. And attracted by curiosity, the lady caused it to be seized. And she then related all unto Adhiratha of the charioteer caste. And hearing this Adhiratha took away the box from the water-side, and opened it by means of instruments. And then he beheld a boy resembling the morning Sun. And the infant was furnished with golden mail, and looked exceedingly beautiful with a face decked in ear-rings. And thereupon the charioteer, together with his wife, was struck with such astonishment that their eyes expanded in wonder. And taking the infant on his lap, Adhiratha said unto his wife, 'Ever since I was born, O timid lady, I had never seen such a wonder. This child that hath come to us must be of celestial birth. Surely, sonless as I am, it is the gods that have sent him unto me!' Saying this, O lord of earth, he gave the infant to Radha. And thereat, Radha adopted, according to the ordinance, that child of celestial form and divine origin, and possessed of the splendour of the filaments of the lotus and furnished with excellent grace. And duly reared by her, that child endued with great prowess began to grow up. And after Karna's adoption, Adhiratha had other sons begotten by himself. And seeing the child furnished with bright mail and golden ear-rings, the twice-born ones named him Vasusena. And thus did that child endued with great splendour and immeasurable prowess became the son of the charioteer, and came to be known as Vasusena and Vrisha. And Pritha learnt through spies that her own son clad in celestial mail was growing up amongst the Angas as the eldest son of a charioteer (Adhiratha). And seeing that in process of time his son had grown up, Adhiratha sent him to the city named after the elephant. And there Karna put up with Drona, for the purpose of learning arms. And that powerful youth contracted a friendship with Duryodhana. And having acquired all the four kinds of weapons from Drona, Kripa, and Rama, he became famous in the world as a mighty bowman. And after having contracted a friendship with Dhritarashtra's son, he became intent on injuring the sons of Pritha. And he was always desirous of fighting with the high-souled Phalguna. And, O king, ever since they first saw each other, Karna always used to challenge Arjuna, and Arjuna, on his part, used to challenge him. This, O foremost of kings, was without doubt, the secret known to the Sun, viz., begot by himself on Kunti, Karna was being reared in the race of the _Sutas_. And beholding him decked with his ear-rings and mail, Yudhishthira thought him to be unslayable in fight, and was exceedingly pained at it. And when, O foremost of monarchs, Karna after rising from the water, used at mid-day to worship the effulgent Surya with joined hands, the Brahmanas used to solicit him for wealth. And at that time there was nothing that he would not give away to the twice-born ones. And Indra, assuming the guise of a Brahmana, appeared before him (at such a time) and said, 'Give me!' And thereupon Radha's son replied unto him, 'Thou art welcome!'" SECTION CCCVIII Vaisampayana said, "And when the king of the celestials presented himself in the guise of a Brahmana, beholding him, Karna said, 'Welcome!' And not knowing his intention, Adhiratha's son addressed the Brahmana, saying, 'Of a necklace of gold, and beauteous damsels, and villages with plenty of kine, which shall I give thee?' Thereupon the Brahmana replied, 'I ask thee not to give me either a necklace of gold, or fair damsels, or any other agreeable object. To those do thou give them that ask for them. If, O sinless one, thou art sincere in thy vow, then wilt thou, cutting off (from thy person) this coat of mail born with thy body, and these ear-rings also, bestow them on me! I desire, O chastiser of foes, that thou mayst speedily give me these; for, this one gain of mine will be considered as superior to every other gain!' Hearing these words, Karna said, 'O Brahmana, I will give thee homestead land, and fair damsels, and kine, and fields; but my mail and ear-rings I am unable to give thee!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Although thus urged with various words by Karna, still, O chief of the Bharata race, that Brahmana did not ask for any other boon. And although Karna sought to pacify him to the best of his power, and worshipped him duly, yet that best of Brahmanas did not ask for any other boon. And when that foremost of Brahmanas did not ask for any other boon, Radha's son again spake unto him with a smile, 'My mail, O regenerate one, hath been born with my body, and this pair of ear-rings hath arisen from _Amrita_. It is for these that I am unslayable in the worlds. Therefore, I cannot part with them. Do thou, O bull among Brahmanas, accept from me the entire kingdom of the earth, rid of enemies and full of prosperity! O foremost of regenerate ones, if I am deprived of my ear-rings, and the mail born with my body, I shall be liable to be vanquished by the foes!'" Vaisampayana continued, "When the illustrious slayer of Paka refused to ask for any other boon, Karna with a smile again addressed him, saying, 'O god of gods, even before this, I had recognised thee, O Lord! O Sakra, it is not proper for me to confer on thee any unprofitable boon, for thou art the very lord of the celestials! On the contrary, being as thou art the Creator and lord of all beings, it is thou that shouldst confer boons on me! If, O god, I give thee this coat of mail and ear-rings, then I am sure to meet with destruction, and thou shalt also undergo ridicule! Therefore, O Sakra, take my earrings and excellent mail in exchange for something conferred by thee on me! Otherwise, I will not bestow them on thee!' Thereupon Sakra replied, 'Even before I had come to thee, Surya had known of my purpose and without doubt, it is he that hath unfolded everything unto thee! O Karna, be it as thou wishest! O son, except the thunder-bolt alone, tell me what it is that thou desirest to have!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Indra, Karna was filled with delight and seeing that his purpose was about to be accomplished he approached Vasava, and intent upon obtaining a dart incapable of being baffled, he addressed Indra, saying, 'Do thou, O Vasava, in exchange for my coat of mail and ear-rings, give me a dart incapable of being baffled, and competent to destroy hosts of enemies when arrayed in order of battle!' Thereupon, O ruler of earth, fixing his mind for a moment on the dart (for bringing it there), Vasava thus spake unto Karna, 'Do thou give me thy ear-rings, and the coat of mail born with thy body, and in return take this dart on these terms! When I encounter the _Daitya_ in battle, this dart that is incapable of being baffled, hurled by my hand, destroyeth enemies by hundreds, and cometh back to my hand after achieving its purpose. In thy hand, however, this dart, O son of _Suta_, will slay only one powerful enemy of thine. And having achieved that feat, it will, roaring and blazing, return to me!' Thereat Karna said, 'I desire to slay in fierce fight even one enemy of mine, who roareth fiercely and is hot as fire, and of whom I am in fear!' At this, Indra said, 'Thou shall slay such a roaring and powerful foe in battle. But that one whom thou seekest to slay, is protected by an illustrious personage. Even He whom persons versed in the Vedas call '_the invincible Boar_,' and '_the incomprehensible Narayana_,' even that Krishna himself, is protecting him!' Thereupon Karna replied, 'Even if this be so, do thou, O illustrious one give me the weapon that will destroy only one powerful foe! I shall, on my part, bestow on thee my mail and ear-rings, cutting them off my person. Do thou, however, grant that my body, thus wounded, may not be unsightly!' Hearing this, Indra said, 'As thou, O Karna, art bent upon observing the truth, thy person shall not be unsightly, or shall any scar remain on it. And, O thou best of those that are graced with speech, O Karna, thou shall be possessed of complexion and energy of thy father himself. And if, maddened by wrath, thou hurlest this dart, while there are still other weapons with thee, and when thy life also is not in imminent peril, it will fall even on thyself.' Karna answered, 'As thou directest me, O Sakra, I shall hurl this _Vasavi_ dart only when I am in imminent peril! Truly I tell thee this!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thereupon, O king, taking the blazing dart, Karna began to peel off his natural mail. And beholding Karna cutting his own body, the entire host of celestials and men and _Danavas_ set up a leonine roar. And Karna betrayed no contortions of face while peeling his mail. And beholding that hero among men thus cutting his body with an weapon, smiling ever and anon, celestial kettle-drums began to be played upon and celestial flowers began to be showered on him. And Karna cutting off the excellent mail from his person, gave it to Vasava, still dripping. And cutting off his ear-rings also from off his ears, he made them over to Indra. And it is for this fact that he came to be called Karna. And Sakra, having thus beguiled Karna that made him famous in the world, thought with a smile that the business of the sons of Pandu had already been completed. And having done all this, he ascended to heaven. And hearing that Karna had been beguiled, all the sons of Dhritarashtra became distressed and shorn of pride. And the sons of Pritha, on the other hand, learning that such plight had befallen the son of the charioteer, were filled with joy." Janamejaya said, "Where were those heroes, the sons of Pandu, at that time? And from whom did they hear this welcome news? And what also did they do, when the twelfth year of their exile passed away? Do thou, O illustrious one, tell me all this!" Vaisampayana said, "Having defeated the chief of the Saindhavas, and rescued Krishna, and having outlived the entire term of their painful exile in the woods, and having listened to the ancient stories about gods and _Rishis_ recited by Markandeya, those heroes among men returned from their asylum in Kamyaka to the sacred Dwaitavana, with all their cars, and followers, and accompanied by their charioteers, their kine, and the citizens who had followed them." SECTION CCCIX (_Aranya Parva_) Janamejaya said, "Having felt great affliction on account of the abduction of their wife and having rescued Krishna thereafter, what did the Pandavas next do?" Vaisampayana said, "Having felt great affliction on account of the abduction of Krishna, king Yudhishthira of unfading glory, with his brothers, left the woods of Kamyaka and returned to the delightful and picturesque Dwaitavana abounding in trees and containing delicious fruits and roots. And the sons of Pandu with their wife Krishna began to reside there, living frugally on fruits and practising rigid vows. And while those repressers of foes, the virtuous king Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, and Bhimasena, and Arjuna, and those other sons of Pandu born of Madri, were dwelling in Dwaitavana, practising rigid vows, they underwent, for the sake of a Brahmana, great trouble, which, however, was destined to bring about their future happiness. I will tell thee all about the trouble which those foremost of Kurus underwent while living in those woods, and which in the end brought about their happiness. Do thou listen to it! Once on a time, as a deer was butting about, it chanced that the two sticks for making fire and a churning staff belonging to a Brahmana devoted to ascetic austerities, struck fast into its antlers. And, thereupon, O king, that powerful deer of exceeding fleetness with long bounds, speedily went out of the hermitage, taking those articles away. And, O foremost of Kurus, seeing those articles of his thus carried away, the Brahmana, anxious on account of his _Agnihotra_, quickly came before the Pandavas. And approaching without loss of time Ajatasatru seated in that forest with his brothers, the Brahmana, in great distress, spake these words, 'As a deer was butting about, it happened, O king, that my fire-sticks and churning staff which had been placed against a large tree stuck fast to its antlers. O king, that powerful deer of exceeding fleetness hath speedily gone out of the hermitage with long bounds, taking those articles away. Tracking that powerful deer, O king, by its foot-prints, do ye, ye sons of Pandu, bring back those articles of mine, so that my _Agnihotra_ may not be stopped!' Hearing these words of the Brahmana, Yudhishthira became exceedingly concerned. And the son of Kunti taking up his bow sallied out with his brothers. And putting on their corselets and equipped with their bows, those bulls among men, intent upon serving the Brahmana, swiftly sallied out in the wake of the deer. And descrying the deer at no great distance, those mighty warriors discharged at it barbed arrows and javelins and darts, but the sons of Pandu could not pierce it by any means. And as they struggled to pursue and slay it, that powerful deer became suddenly invisible. And losing sight of the deer, the noble-minded sons of Pandu, fatigued and disappointed and afflicted with hunger and thirst, approached a banian tree in that deep forest, and sat down in its cool shade. And when they had sat down, Nakula stricken with sorrow and urged by impatience, addressed his eldest brother of the Kuru race, saying, 'In our race, O king, virtue hath never been sacrificed, nor hath there been loss of wealth from insolence. And being asked, we have never said to any creature, Nay! Why then in the present case have we met with this disaster?'" SECTION CCCX "Yudhishthira said, 'There is no limit to calamities. Nor is it possible to ascertain either their final or efficient cause. It is the Lord of justice alone who distributeth the fruits of both virtue and vice.' Thereupon Bhima said, 'Surely, this calamity hath befallen us, because I did not slay the _Pratikamin_ on the very spot, when he dragged Krishna as a slave into the assembly.' And Arjuna said, 'Surely, this calamity hath befallen us because I resented not those biting words piercing the very bones, uttered by the _Suta's_ son!' And Sahadeva said, 'Surely, O Bharata, this calamity hath befallen us because I did not slay Sakuni when he defeated thee at dice!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Then king Yudhishthira addressed Nakula saying, 'Do thou, O son of Madri, climb this tree and look around the ten points of the horizon. Do thou see whether there is water near us or such trees as grow on watery grounds! O child, these thy brothers are all fatigued and thirsty.' Thereupon saying, 'So be it,' Nakula speedily climbed up a tree, and having looked around, said unto his eldest brother, 'O king, I see many a tree that groweth by the water-side, and I hear also the cries of cranes. Therefore, without doubt, water must be somewhere here.' Hearing these words, Kunti's son Yudhishthira, firm in truth, said, 'O amiable one, go thou and fetch water in these quivers!' Saying, 'So be it,' at the command of his eldest brother Nakula quickly proceeded towards the place where there was water and soon came upon it. And beholding a crystal lake inhabited by cranes he desired to drink of it, when he heard these words from the sky, 'O child, do not commit this rash act! This lake hath already been in my possession. Do thou, O son of Madri, first answer my questions and then drink of this water and take away (as much as thou requirest).' Nakula, however, who was exceedingly thirsty, disregarding these words, drank of the cool water, and having drunk of it, dropped down dead. And, O represser of foes, seeing Nakula's delay, Yudhishthira the son of Kunti said unto Sahadeva, the heroic brother of Nakula, 'O Sahadeva, it is long since our brother, he who was born immediately before thee, hath gone from hence! Do thou, therefore, go and bring back thy uterine brother, together with water.' At this, Sahadeva, saying, 'So be it,' set out in that direction; and coming to the spot, beheld his brother lying dead on the ground. And afflicted at the death of his brother, and suffering severely from thirst, he advanced towards the water, when these words were heard by him, 'O child, do not commit this rash act! This lake hath already been in my possession. First answer my question, and then drink of the water and take away as much as thou mayst require.' Sahadeva, however, who was extremely thirsty, disregarding these words, drank of the water, and having drunk of it, dropped down dead. Then Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, said unto Vijaya, 'It is long since, O Vibhatsu, that thy two brothers have gone, O represser of foes! Blessed be thou! Do thou bring them back, together with water. Thou art, O child, the refuge of us all when plunged in distress!' Thus addressed, the intelligent Gudakesa, taking his bow and arrows and also his naked sword, set out for that lake of waters. And reaching that spot, he whose car was drawn by white steeds beheld those tigers among men, his two younger brothers who had come to fetch water, lying dead there. And seeing them as if asleep, that lion among men, exceedingly aggrieved, raised his bow and began to look around that wood. But he found none in that mighty forest. And, being fatigued, he who was capable of drawing the bow by his left hand as well, rushed in the direction of the water. And as he was rushing (towards the water), he heard these words from the sky, 'Why dost thou approach this water? Thou shalt not be able to drink of it by force. If thou, O Kaunteya, can answer the question I will put to thee, then only shalt thou drink of the water and take away as much as thou requirest, O Bharata!' Thus forbidden, the son of Pritha said, 'Do thou forbid me by appearing before me! And when thou shalt be sorely pierced with my arrows, thou wilt not then again speak in this way!' Having said this, Partha covered all sides with arrows inspired by _mantras_. And he also displayed his skill in shooting at an invisible mark by sound alone. And, O bull of the Bharata race, sorely afflicted with thirst, he discharged barbed darts and javelins and iron arrows, and showered on the sky innumerable shafts incapable of being baffled. Thereupon, the invisible Yaksha said, 'What need of all this trouble, O son of Pritha? Do thou drink only after answering my questions! If thou drink, however, without answering my questions, thou shalt die immediately after.' Thus addressed, Pritha's son Dhananjaya capable of drawing the bow with his left hand as well, disregarding those words, drank of the water, and immediately after dropped down dead. And (seeing Dhananjaya's delay) Kunti's son Yudhishthira addressed Bhimasena, saying, 'O represser of foes, it is a long while that Nakula and Sahadeva and Vibhatsu have gone to fetch water, and they have not come yet, O Bharata! Good betide thee! Do thou bring them back, together with water!' Thereupon saying, 'So be it,' Bhimasena set out for that place where those tigers among men, his brothers, lay dead. And beholding them, Bhima afflicted though he was with thirst, was exceedingly distressed. And that mighty armed hero thought all that to have been the act of some Yaksha or Rakshasa. And Pritha's son Vrikodara thought, 'I shall surely have to fight today. Let me, therefore, first appease my thirst.' Then that bull of the Bharata race rushed forward with the intention of drinking. Thereupon the Yaksha said, 'O child, do not commit this rash act! This lake hath already been in my possession. Do thou first answer my questions, and then drink and take away as much water as thou requirest!'" Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by that Yaksha of immeasurable energy, Bhima, without answering his questions, drank of the water. And as soon as he drank, he fell down dead on the spot. Then thinking that his brothers had left him long since, Yudhishthira waited for some time. And the king said unto himself again and again, 'Why is it that the two sons of Madri are delaying? And why doth the wielder also of the _Gandiva_ delay? And why doth Bhima too, endued with great strength, delay? I shall go to search for them!' And resolved to do this, the mighty-armed Yudhishthira then rose up, his heart burning in grief. And that bull among men, the royal son of Kunti thought within himself. 'Is this forest under some malign influence? Or, is it infested by some wicked beasts? Or, have they all fallen, in consequence of having disregarded some mighty being? Or, not finding water in the spot whither those heroes had first repaired, they have spent all this time in search through the forest? What is that reason for which those bulls among men do not come back?' And speaking in this strain, that foremost of monarchs, the illustrious Yudhishthira, entered into that mighty forest where no human sound was heard and which was inhabited by deer and bears and birds, and which was adorned with trees that were bright and green, and which echoed with the hum of the black-bee and the notes of winged warblers. As he was proceeding along, he beheld that beautiful lake which looked as if it had been made by the celestial artificer himself. And it was adorned with flowers of a golden hue and with lotuses and _Sindhuvars_. And it abounded with canes and _Ketakas_ and _Karaviras_ and _Pippalas_, and fatigued with toil, Yudhishthira saw that tank and was struck with wonder." SECTION CCCXI Vaisampayana said, "Yudhishthira saw his brothers, each possessed of the glory of Indra himself, lying dead like the Regents of the world dropped from their spheres at the end of the _Yuga_. And beholding Arjuna lying dead, with his bow and arrows dropped on the ground, and also Bhimasena and the twins motionless and deprived of life, the king breathed a hot and long sigh, and was bathed in tears of grief. And beholding his brothers lying dead, the mighty armed son of Dharma with heart racked in anxiety, began to lament profusely, saying, 'Thou hadst, O mighty-armed Vrikodara, vowed, saying,--_I shall with mace smash the thighs of Duryodhana in battle!_ O enhancer of the glory of the Kurus, in thy death, O mighty-armed and high-souled one, all that hath become fruitless now! The promises of men may be ineffectual; but why have the words of the gods uttered in respect of thee been thus fruitless? O Dhananjaya, while thou wert in thy mother's lying-in-room, the gods had said,--_O Kunti, this thy son shall not be inferior to him of a thousand eyes!_ And in the northern Paripatra mountains, all beings had sung, saying,--_The prosperity (of this race), robbed by foes will be recovered by this one without delay. No one will be able to vanquish him in battle, while there will be none whom he will not be able to vanquish._ Why then hath that Jishnu endued with great strength been subject to death? Oh, why doth that Dhananjaya, relying on whom we had hitherto endured all this misery, lie on the ground blighting[66] all my hopes! Why have those heroes, those mighty sons of Kunti, Bhimasena and Dhananjaya, came under the power of the enemy,--those who themselves always slew their foes, and whom no weapons could resist! Surely, this vile heart of mine must be made of adamant, since, beholding these twins lying today on the ground it doth not split! Ye bulls among men, versed in holy writ and acquainted with the properties of time and place, and endued with ascetic merit, ye who duly performed all sacred rites, why lie ye down, without performing acts deserving of you? Alas, why lie ye insensible on the earth, with your bodies unwounded, ye unvanquished ones, and with your vows untouched?' And beholding his brothers sweetly sleeping there as (they usually did) on mountain slopes, the high souled king, overwhelmed with grief and bathed in sweat, came to a distressful condition. And saying,--It is even so--that virtuous lord of men, immersed in an ocean of grief anxiously proceeded to ascertain the cause (of that catastrophe). And that mighty-armed and high-souled one, acquainted with the divisions of time and place, could not settle his course of action. Having thus bewailed much in this strain, the virtuous Yudhishthira, the son of _Dharma_ or _Tapu_, restrained his soul and began to reflect in his mind as to who had slain those heroes. 'There are no strokes of weapons upon these, nor is any one's foot-print here. The being must be mighty I ween, by whom my brothers have been slain. Earnestly shall I ponder over this, or, let me first drink of the water, and then know all. It may be that the habitually crooked-minded Duryodhana hath caused this water to be secretly placed here by the king of the _Gandharvas_. What man of sense can trust wicked wight of evil passions with whom good and evil are alike? Or, perhaps, this may be an act of that wicked-souled one through secret messengers of his.' And it was thus that that highly intelligent one gave way to diverse reflections. He did not believe that water to have been tainted with poison, for though dead no corpse-like pallor was on them. 'The colour on the faces of these my brothers hath not faded!' And it was thus that Yudhishthira thought. And the king continued, 'Each of these foremost of men was like unto a mighty cataract. Who, therefore, save Yama himself who in due time bringeth about the end of all things, could have baffled them thus.' And having concluded this for certain, he began to perform his ablutions in that lake. And while he descended into it, he heard these words from the sky, uttered by the Yaksha,--'I am a crane, living on tiny fish. It is by me that thy younger brothers have been brought under the sway of the lord of departed spirits. If thou, O prince, answer not the questions put by me, even thou shalt number the fifth corpse. Do not, O child, act rashly! This lake hath already been in my possession. Having answered my questions first, do thou, O Kunti's son, drink and carry away (as much as thou requirest)!' Hearing these words, Yudhishthira said, 'Art thou the foremost of the Rudras, or of the Vasus, or of the Marutas? I ask, what god art thou? This could not have been done by a bird! Who is it that hath overthrown the four mighty mountains, viz., the Himavat, the Paripatra, the Vindhya, and the Malaya? Great is the feat done by thee, thou foremost of strong persons! Those whom neither gods, nor _Gandharvas_ nor _Asuras_, nor _Rakshasas_ could endure in mighty conflict, have been slain by thee! Therefore, exceedingly wonderful is the deed done by thee! I do not know what thy business may be, nor do I know thy purpose. Therefore, great is the curiosity and fear also that have taken possession of me. My mind is greatly agitated, and as my head also is aching, I ask thee, therefore, O worshipful one, who art thou that stayest here?' Hearing these words the Yaksha said, 'I am, good betide thee, a Yaksha, and not an amphibious bird. It is by me that all these brothers of thine, endued with mighty prowess, have been slain!'" [66] Samhritya--killing. Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing these accursed words couched in harsh syllabus,[67] Yudhishthira, O king, approaching the Yaksha who had spoken then, stood there. And that bull among the Bharatas then beheld that Yaksha of unusual eyes and huge body tall like a palmyra-palm and looking like fire or the Sun, and irresistible and gigantic like a mountain, staying on a tree, and uttering a loud roar deep as that of the clouds. And the Yaksha said, 'These thy brothers, O king, repeatedly forbidden by me, would forcibly take away water. It is for this that they have been slain by me! He that wisheth to live, should not, O king, drink this water! O son of Pritha, act not rashly! This lake hath already been in my possession. Do thou, O son of Kunti, first answer my questions, and then take away as much as thou likest!' Yudhishthira said, 'I do not, O Yaksha, covet, what is already in thy possession! O bull among male beings, virtuous persons never approve that one should applaud his own self (without boasting, I shall, therefore, answer thy questions, according to my intelligence). Do thou ask me!' The Yaksha then said, 'What is it that maketh the Sun rise? Who keeps him company? Who causeth him to set? And in whom is he established?' Yudhishthira answered, '_Brahma_ maketh the Sun rise; the gods keep him company; _Dharma_ causeth him to set; and he is established in truth.'[68] The Yaksha asked, 'By what doth one become learned? By what doth he attain what is very great? How can one have a second? And, O king, how can one acquire intelligence?' Yudhishthira answered, 'It is by the (study of the) _Srutis_ that a person becometh learned; it is by ascetic austerities that one acquireth what is very great; it is by intelligence that a person acquireth a second and it is by serving the old that one becometh wise.'[69] The Yaksha asked, 'What constituteth the divinity of the Brahmanas? What even is their practice that is like that of the pious? What also is the human attribute of the Brahmanas? And what practice of theirs is like that of the impious?' Yudhishthira answered, 'The study of the _Vedas_ constitutes their divinity; their asceticism constitutes behaviour that is like that of the pious; their liability to death is their human attribute and slander is their impiety.' The Yaksha asked, 'What institutes the divinity of the Kshatriyas? What even is their practice that is like that of the pious? What is their human attribute? And what practice of theirs is like that of the impious?' Yudhishthira answered, 'Arrows and weapons are their divinity; celebration of sacrifices is that act which is like that of the pious; liability to fear is their human attribute; and refusal of protection is that act of theirs which is like that of the impious.' The Yaksha asked, 'What is that which constitutes the _Sama_ of the sacrifice? What the _Yajus_ of the sacrifice? What is that which is the refuge of a sacrifice? And what is that which sacrifice cannot do without?' Yudhishthira answered, 'Life is the _Sama_ of the sacrifice; the mind is the _Yajus_ of the sacrifice; the _Rik_ is that which is the refuge of the sacrifice; and it is _Rik_ alone which sacrifice cannot do without.'[70] The Yaksha asked, 'What is of the foremost value to those that cultivate? What is of the foremost value to those that sow? What is of the foremost value to those that wish for prosperity in this world? And what is of the foremost value to those that bring forth?' Yudhishthira answered, 'That which is of the foremost value to those that cultivate is rain; that of the foremost value to those that sow is seed; that of the foremost value to those that bring forth is offspring.'[71] The Yaksha asked, 'What person, enjoying all the objects of the senses, endued with intelligence, regarded by the world and liked by all beings, though breathing, doth not offer anything to these five, viz., gods, guests, servants, _Pitris_, and himself, though endued with breath, is not yet alive.' The Yaksha asked, 'What is weightier than the earth itself? What is higher than the heavens? What is fleeter than the wind? And what is more numerous than grass?' Yudhishthira answered, 'The mother is weightier than the earth; the father is higher than the heaven; the mind is fleeter than the wind; and our thoughts are more numerous than grass.' The Yaksha asked, 'What is that which doth not close its eyes while asleep? What is that which doth not move after birth? What is that which is without heart? And what is that which swells with its own impetus?' Yudhishthira answered, 'A fish doth not close its eyes while asleep; an egg doth not move after birth; a stone is without heart; and a river swelleth with its own impetus.' The Yaksha asked, 'Who is the friend of the exile? Who is the friend of the householder? Who is the friend of him that ails? And who is the friend of one about to die?' Yudhishthira answered, 'The friend of the exile in a distant land is his companion; the friend of the householder is the wife; the friend of him that ails is the physician; and the friend of him about to die is charity.' The Yaksha asked,--'Who is the guest of all creatures? What is the eternal duty? What, O foremost of kings, is _Amrita_? And what is this entire Universe?' Yudhishthira answered,--'_Agni_ is the guest of all creatures; the milk of kine is _amrita; Homa_ (therewith) is the eternal duty; and this Universe consists of air alone.'[72] The Yaksha asked,--'What is that which sojourneth alone? What is that which is re-born after its birth? What is the remedy against cold? And what is the largest field?' Yudhishthira answered,--'The sun sojourneth alone; the moon takes birth anew; fire is the remedy against cold; and the Earth is the largest field.' The Yaksha asked,--'What is the highest refuge of virtue? What of fame? What of heaven? And what, of happiness?' Yudhishthira answered,--'Liberality is the highest refuge of virtue; gift, of fame; truth, of heaven; and good behaviour, of happiness.' The Yaksha asked,--'What is the soul of man? Who is that friend bestowed on man by the gods? What is man's chief support? And what also is his chief refuge?' Yudhishthira answered,--'The son is a man's soul; the wife is the friend bestowed on man by the gods; the clouds are his chief support; and gift is his chief refuge.' The Yaksha asked,--'What is the best of all laudable things? What is the most valuable of all his possessions? What is the best of all gains? And what is the best of all kinds of happiness?' Yudhishthira answered,--"The best of all laudable things is skill; the best of all possessions is knowledge; the best of all gains is health; and contentment is the best of all kinds of happiness.' The Yaksha asked,--'What is the highest duty in the world? What is that virtue which always beareth fruit? What is that which if controlled, leadeth not to regret? And who are they with whom an alliance cannot break?' Yudhishthira answered,--'The highest of duties is to refrain from injury; the rites ordained in the _Three (Vedas)_ always bear fruit; the mind, if controlled, leadeth to no regret; and an alliance with the good never breaketh.' The Yaksha asked,--'What is that which, if renounced, maketh one agreeable? What is that which, if renounced, leadeth to no regret? What is that which, if renounced, maketh one wealthy? And what is that which if renounced, maketh one happy?' Yudhishthira answered,--'Pride, if renounced, maketh one agreeable; wrath, if renounced leadeth to no regret; desire, if renounced, maketh one wealthy; and avarice, if renounced, maketh one happy.' The Yaksha asked,--'For what doth one give away to Brahmanas? For what to mimes and dancers? For what to servants? And for what to the king?' Yudhishthira answered,--'It is for religious merit that one giveth away to Brahmanas; it is for fame that one giveth away to mimes and dancers; it is for supporting them that one giveth away to servants; and it is for obtaining relief from fear that one giveth to kings.' The Yaksha asked,--'With what is the world enveloped? What is that owing to which a thing cannot discover itself? For what are friends forsaken? And for what doth one fail to go to heaven?' Yudhishthira answered,--'The world is enveloped with darkness. Darkness doth not permit a thing to show itself. It is from avarice that friends are forsaken. And it is connection with the world for which one faileth to go to heaven.' The Yaksha asked,--'For what may one be considered as dead? For what may a kingdom be considered as dead? For what may a _Sraddha_ be considered as dead? And for what, a sacrifice?' Yudhishthira answered,--'For want of wealth may a man be regarded as dead. A kingdom for want of a king may be regarded as dead. A _Sraddha_ that is performed with the aid of a priest that hath no learning may be regarded as dead. And a sacrifice in which there are no gifts to Brahmanas is dead.' The Yaksha asked,--'What constitutes the way? What hath been spoken of as water? What, as food? And what, as poison? Tell us also what is the proper time of a _Sraddha_, and then drink and take away as much as thou likest!' Yudhishthira answered,--'They that are good constitute the way.[73] Space hath been spoken of as water.[74] The cow is food.[75] A request is poison. And a Brahmana is regarded as the proper time of a _Sraddha_.[76] I do not know what thou mayst think of all this, O Yaksha?' The Yaksha asked,--'What hath been said to be the sign of asceticism? And what is true restraint? What constitutes forgiveness. And what is shame?' Yudhishthira answered,--'Staying in one's own religion is asceticism; the restraint of the mind is of all restraints the true one; forgiveness consists in enduring enmity; and shame, in withdrawing from all unworthy acts.' The Yaksha asked,--'What, O king is said to be knowledge? What, tranquillity? What constitutes mercy? And what hath been called simplicity?' Yudhishthira answered,--'True knowledge is that of Divinity. True tranquillity is that of the heart. Mercy consists in wishing happiness to all. And simplicity is equanimity of heart.' The Yaksha asked,--'What enemy is invincible? What constitutes an incurable disease for man? What sort of a man is called honest and what dishonest?' Yudhishthira answered,--'Anger is an invincible enemy. Covetousness constitutes an incurable disease. He is honest that desires the weal of all creatures, and he is dishonest who is unmerciful.' The Yaksha asked,--'What, O king, is ignorance? And what is pride? What also is to be understood by idleness? And what hath been spoken of as grief?' Yudhishthira answered,--'True ignorance consists in not knowing one's duties. Pride is a consciousness of one's being himself an actor or sufferer in life. Idleness consists in not discharging one's duties, and ignorance in grief.' The Yaksha asked,--'What hath steadiness been said by the _Rishis_ to be? And what, patience? What also is a real ablution? And what is charity?' Yudhishthira answered,--'Steadiness consists in one's staying in one's own religion, and true patience consists in the subjugation of the senses. A true bath consists in washing the mind clean of all impurities, and charity consists in protecting all creatures.' The Yaksha asked,--'What man should be regarded as learned, and who should be called an atheist? Who also is to be called ignorant? What is called desire and what are the sources of desire? And what is envy?' Yudhishthira answered,--'He is to be called learned who knoweth his duties. An atheist is he who is ignorant and so also he is ignorant who is an atheist. Desire is due to objects of possession, and envy is nothing else than grief of heart.' The Yaksha asked,--'What is pride, and what is hypocrisy? What is the grace of the gods, and what is wickedness?' Yudhishthira answered,--'Stolid ignorance is pride. The setting up of a religious standard is hypocrisy. The grace of the gods is the fruit of our gifts, and wickedness consists in speaking ill of others.' The Yaksha asked,--'Virtue, profit, and desire are opposed to one another. How could things thus antagonistic to one another exist together?' Yudhishthira answered,--'When a wife and virtue agree with each other, then all the three thou hast mentioned may exist together.' The Yaksha asked,--'O bull of the Bharata race, who is he that is condemned to everlasting hell? It behoveth thee to soon answer the question that I ask!' Yudhishthira answered,--'He that summoneth a poor Brahmana promising to make him a gift and then tells him that he hath nothing to give, goeth to everlasting hell. He also must go to everlasting hell, who imputes falsehood to the _Vedas_, the scriptures, the Brahmanas, the gods, and the ceremonies in honour of the _Pitris_. He also goeth to everlasting hell who though in possession of wealth, never giveth away nor enjoyeth himself from avarice, saying, he hath none.' The Yaksha asked,--'By what, O king, birth, behaviour, study, or learning doth a person become a Brahmana? Tell us with certitude!' Yudhishthira answered,--'Listen, O Yaksha! It is neither birth, nor study, nor learning, that is the cause of _Brahmanahood_, without doubt, it is behaviour that constitutes it. One's behaviour should always be well-guarded, especially by a Brahmana. He who maintaineth his conduct unimpaired, is never impaired himself. Professors and pupils, in fact, all who study the scriptures, if addicted to wicked habits, are to be regarded as illiterate wretches. He only is learned who performeth his religious duties. He even that hath studied the four Vedas is to be regarded as a wicked wretch scarcely distinguishable from a Sudra (if his conduct be not correct). He only who performeth the _Agnihotra_ and hath his senses under control, is called a Brahmana!' The Yaksha asked,--'What doth one gain that speaketh agreeable words? What doth he gain that always acteth with judgment? What doth he gain that hath many friends? And what he, that is devoted to virtue?' Yudhishthira answered,--'He that speaketh agreeable words becometh agreeable to all. He that acteth with judgment obtaineth whatever he seeketh. He that hath many friends liveth happily. And he that is devoted to virtue obtaineth a happy state (in the next world).' The Yaksha asked,--'Who is truly happy? What is most wonderful? What is _the_ path? And what is _the_ news? Answer these four questions of mine and let thy dead brothers revive.' Yudhishthira answered,--'O amphibious creature, a man who cooketh in his own house, on the fifth or the sixth part of the day, with scanty vegetables, but who is not in debt and who stirreth not from home, is truly happy. Day after day countless creatures are going to the abode of Yama, yet those that remain behind believe themselves to be immortal. What can be more wonderful than this? Argument leads to no certain conclusion, the _Srutis_ are different from one another; there is not even one _Rishi_ whose opinion can be accepted by all; the truth about religion and duty is hid in caves: therefore, that alone is the path along which the great have trod. This world full of ignorance is like a pan. The sun is fire, the days and nights are fuel. The months and the seasons constitute the wooden ladle. Time is the cook that is cooking all creatures in that pan (with such aids); this is _the news_.' The Yaksha asked,--'Thou hast, O represser of foes, truly answered all my questions! Tell us now who is truly a man, and what man truly possesseth every kind of wealth.' Yudhishthira answered,--'The report of one's good action reacheth heaven and spreadeth over the earth. As long as that report lasteth, so long is a person to whom the agreeable and the disagreeable, weal and woe, the past and the future, are the same, is said to possess every kind of wealth.' The Yaksha said,--'Thou hast, O king truly answered who is a man, and what man possesseth every kind of wealth. Therefore, let one only amongst thy brothers, whom thou mayst wish, get up with life!' Yudhishthira answered,--'Let this one that is of darkish hue, whose eyes are red, who is tall like a large _Sala_ tree, whose chest is broad and arms long, let this Nakula, O Yaksha, get up with life!' The Yaksha rejoined,--'This Bhimasena is dear unto thee, and this Arjuna also is one upon whom all of you depend! Why, then, O king, dost thou wish a step-brother to get up with his life! How canst thou, forsaking Bhima whose strength is equal to that of ten thousand elephants, wish Nakula to live? People said that this Bhima was dear to thee. From what motive then dost thou wish a step-brother to revive? Forsaking Arjuna the might of whose arm is worshipped by all the sons of Pandu, why dost thou wish Nakula to revive?' Yudhishthira said,--'If virtue is sacrificed, he that sacrificeth it, is himself lost. So virtue also cherisheth the cherisher. Therefore taking care that virtue by being sacrificed may not sacrifice us, I never forsake virtue. Abstention from injury is the highest virtue, and is, I ween, even higher than the highest object of attainment. I endeavour to practise that virtue. Therefore, let Nakula, O Yaksha, revive! Let men know that the king is always virtuous! I will never depart from my duty. Let Nakula, therefore, revive! My father had two wives, Kunti and Madri. Let both of them have children. This is what I wish. As Kunti is to me, so also is Madri. There is no difference between them in my eye. I desire to act equally towards my mothers. Therefore, let Nakula live.' The Yaksha said,--'Since abstention from injury is regarded by thee as higher than both profit and pleasure, therefore, let all thy brothers live, O bull of Bharata race!'" [67] Lit. Letters. [68] Behind the plain and obvious meanings of the words employed both in the question and the answer, there is a deeper signification of a spiritual kind. I think Nilakantha has rightly understood the passage. By Aditya, which of course commonly means the Sun, is indicated the unpurified soul (from adatte sabdadin indriadivis &c.). The first question then, becomes, 'Who is it that exalteth the unpurified soul?' The act of exaltation implies a raising of the soul from its earthly connections. The answer to this is, 'Brahma, i.e., Veda or self-knowledge.' The second question--'What are those that keep company with the soul during its progress of purification?' The answer is, 'Self-restraint and other qualities, which are all of a god-like or divine nature.' The third question is.--Who lead the soul to its place (state) of rest? The answer is, 'Dharma, _i.e._, rectitude, morality, and religious observances.' It is often asserted that one must pass through the observances (Karma) before attaining to a state of Rest or Truth or Pure Knowledge. The last question is,--'On what is the soul established!' The answer, according to all that has been previously said, is 'Truth or Pure Knowledge.' For the soul that is emancipated from and raised above all carnal connections, is no longer in need of observances and acts (Karma) but stays unmoved in True Knowledge (Janana). [69] Nilakantha explains both Dhriti and Dwitiya in a spiritual sense. There is no need, however, of a spiritual explanation here. By Dhriti is meant steadiness of intelligence; by Dwitiya lit, a second. What Yudhishthira says is that a steady intelligence serves the purposes of a helpful companion. [70] Nilakantha explains this correctly, as I imagine, by supposing that by 'sacrifice' is meant the spiritual sacrifice for the acquisition of pure knowledge. In the objective sacrifice which one celebrates, the Sama, the Yajus, and the Rik mantras are all necessary. In the subjective sacrifice the acquisition of true knowledge, life and mind are as necessary as the mantras from the Sama and the Yajur Vedas in an objective one. And as no objective sacrifice can do without the Riks, being principally dependent on them, so the subjective sacrifices for acquiring true knowledge can never do without prayerfulness, which, I imagine, is represented as the Riks. To understand this passage thoroughly would require an intimate acquaintance with the ritual of a sacrifice like the Agnishtoma or any other of that kind. [71] Some texts read apatatam for uvapatam. If the former be the correct reading, the meaning would be--'What is the best of things that fall?' Nilakantha explains both avapatam nivapatam in a spiritual sense. By the first he understands--'They that offer oblation to the gods,' and by the second, 'They that offer oblations to the Pitris.' The necessity of a spiritual interpretation, however, is not very apparent. [72] Yudhishthira has the authority of the Srutis for saying that the one pervading element of the universe is air. [73] The word used in the question is _dik_, literally, direction. Obviously, of course, it means in this connection way. Yudhishthira answers that the way which one is to tread along is that of the good. [74] The _Srutis_ actually speak of space as water. These are questions to test Yudhishthira's knowledge of the Vedic cosmogony. [75] The _Srutis_ speak of the cow as the only food, in the following sense. The cow gives milk. The milk gives butter. The butter is used in Homa. The Homa is the cause of the clouds. The clouds give rain. The rain makes the seed to sprout forth and produce food. Nilakantha endeavours to explain this in a spiritual sense. There is however, no need of such explanation here. [76] What Yudhishthira means to say is that there is no special time for a Sraddha. It is to be performed whenever a good and able priest may be secured. SECTION CCCXII Vaisampayana continued,--"Then agreeable to the words of the Yaksha the Pandavas rose up; and in a moment their hunger and thirst left them. Thereupon Yudhishthira said, 'I ask thee that art incapable of being vanquished and that standest on one leg in the tank, what god art thou, for I cannot take thee for a Yaksha! Art thou the foremost of the Vasus, or of the Rudras, or of the chief of the Maruts? Or art thou the lord himself of the celestials, wielder of the thunder-bolt! Each of these my brothers is capable of fighting as hundred thousand warriors, and I see not the warrior that can slay them all! I see also that their senses have refreshed, as if they have sweetly awaked from slumber. Art thou a friend of ours, or even our father himself?' At this the Yaksha replied,--'O child, I am even thy father, the Lord of justice, possessed of great prowess! Know, bull of the Bharata race, that I came hither desirous of beholding thee! Fame, truth, self-restraint, purity, candour, modesty, steadiness, charity, austerities and _Brahmacharya_, these are my body! And abstention from injury, impartiality, peace, penances, sanctity, and freedom from malice are the doors (through which I am accessible). Thou art always dear to me! By good luck thou art devoted to the five;[77] and by good luck also thou hast conquered the six.[78] Of the six, two appear in the first part of life; two in the middle part thereof; and the remaining two at the end, in order to make men repair to the next world. I am, good betide thee, the lord of justice! I came hither to test thy merit. I am well-pleased to witness thy harmlessness; and, O sinless one, I will confer boons on thee. Do thou, O foremost of kings, ask of me boons. I shall surely confer them, O sinless one! Those that revere me, never come by distress!' Yudhishthira said,--'A deer was carrying away the Brahmana's fire-sticks. Therefore, the first boon that I shall ask, is, may that Brahmana's adorations to _Agni_ be not interrupted!' The Yaksha said,--'O Kunti's son endued with splendour, it was I who for examining thee, was carrying away, in the guise of a deer, that Brahmana's fire-sticks!'" [77] That is, tranquillity of mind, self-restraint, abstention from sensual pleasures, resignation, and Yoga meditation. [78] That is, hunger, thirst, sorrow, bluntness of mortal feeling, decrepitude, and death. Vaisampayana continued,--"Thereupon that worshipful one said,--'I give thee this boon! Good betide thee! O thou that are like unto an immortal, ask thou a fresh boon!' Yudhishthira said,--'We have spent these twelve years in the forest; and the thirteenth year is come. May no one recognise us, as we spend this year somewhere.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thereat that worshipful one replied,--'I give this boon unto thee!' And then reassuring Kunti's son having truth for prowess, he also said, 'Even if, O Bharata, ye range this (entire) earth in your proper forms none in the three worlds shall recognise you. Ye perpetuators of the Kuru race, through my grace, ye will spend this thirteenth year, secretly and unrecognised, in Virata's kingdom! And every one of you will be able at will to assume any form he likes! Do ye now present the Brahmana with his fire-sticks. It was only to test you that I carried them away in the form of a deer! O amiable Yudhishthira, do thou ask for another boon that thou mayst like! I will confer it on thee. O foremost of men, I have not yet been satisfied by granting boons to thee! Do thou my son, accept a third boon that is great and incomparable! Thou, O king, art born of me, and Vidura of portion or mine!' Thereat Yudhishthira said,--'It is enough that I have beheld thee with my senses, eternal God of gods as thou art! O father, whatever boon thou wilt confer on me I shall surely accept gladly! May I, O lord, always conquer covetousness and folly and anger, and may my mind be ever devoted to charity, truth, and ascetic austerities!' The Lord of justice said,--'Even by nature, O Pandava, hast thou been endued with these qualities, for thou art the Lord of justice himself! Do thou again attain what thou asked for!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Having said these words, the worshipful Lord of justice, who is the object of contemplation of all the worlds, vanished therefrom; and the high-souled Pandavas after they had slept sweetly were united with one another. And their fatigue dispelled, those heroes returned to the hermitage, and gave back that Brahmana his firesticks. That man who pursueth this illustrious and fame-enhancing story of the revival (of the Pandavas) and the meeting of father and son (Dharma and Yudhishthira), obtaineth perfect tranquillity of mind, and sons and grandsons, and also a life extending over a hundred years! And the mind of that man that layeth this story to heart, never delighteth in unrighteousness, or in disunion among friends, or misappropriation of other person's property, or staining other people's wives, or in foul thoughts!" SECTION CCCXIII Vaisampayana continued,--"Commanded by the Lord of justice to thus spend in disguise the thirteenth year of non-discovery, the high-souled Pandavas, observant of vows and having truth for prowess, sat before those learned and vow-observing ascetics that from regard were dwelling with them in their exile in the forest. And with joined hands they said these words, with the intention of obtaining permission to spend the thirteenth year in the manner indicated. And they said, 'Ye know well that the sons of Dhritarashtra have by deceit deprived us of our kingdom, and have also done us many other wrongs! We have passed twelve years in the forest in great affliction. The thirteenth year only, which we are to spend unrecognised, yet remaineth. It behoveth you to permit us now to spend this year in concealment! Those rancorous enemies of ours, Suyodhana, the wicked-minded Karna, and Suvala's son should they discover us, would do mighty wrong to the citizens and our friends! Shall we all with the Brahmanas, be again established in our own kingdom?' Having said this, that pure-spirited son of Dharma king Yudhishthira, overwhelmed with grief and with accents choked in tears, swooned away. Thereupon the Brahmanas, together with his brothers began to cheer him up. Then Dhaumya spake unto the king these words fraught with mighty meaning,--'O king, thou art learned and capable of bearing privations, art firm in promise, and of subdued sense! Men of such stamp are not overwhelmed by any calamity whatever. Even the high-souled gods themselves have wandered over various places in disguise, for the purpose of overcoming foes. Indra for the purpose of overcoming his foes, dwelt in disguise in the asylum of Giriprastha, in Nishadha and thus attained his end. Before taking his birth in the womb of Aditi, Vishnu for the purpose of destroying the _Daityas_ passed a long time unrecognised, assuming the form of the _Haya-griba_ (Horse-necked). Then how disguising himself in the form of a dwarf, he by his prowess deprived Vali of his kingdom, hath been heard by thee! And thou hast also heard how Hutasana entering into water and remaining in concealment, achieved the purpose of the gods. And O thou versed in duty, thou hast heard how Hari with the view of overcoming his foes, entered into Sakra's thunder-bolt, and lay concealed there. And, O sinless one, thou hast heard of the office the regenerate _Rishi_ Aurva at one time performed for the gods, remaining concealed in his mother's womb. And O child, living in concealment in every part of the earth, Vivaswat, endued with excellent energy, at last entirely burnt up all his foes. And living disguised in the abode of Dasaratha, Vishnu of dreadful deeds slew the Ten-necked one in battle. Thus remaining in disguise in various places, high-souled persons have before this conquered their enemies in battle.' Thus cheered by these words of Dhaumya, the virtuous Yudhishthira, relying on his own wisdom and also that acquired from the scriptures regained his composure. Then that foremost of strong persons, the mighty-armed Bhimasena endued with great strength encouraging the king greatly, spake these words, 'Looking up to thy face (for permission), the wielder of the _Gandiva_, acting according to his sense of duty hath not yet, O king, shown any rashness! And although fully able to destroy the foe, Nakula and Sahadeva of dreadful prowess have been ever prevented by me! Never shall we swerve from that in which thou wilt engage us! Do thou tell us what is to be done! We shall speedily conquer our enemies!' When Bhimasena had said this, the Brahmanas uttered benedictions on the Bharatas, and then obtaining their permission, went to their respective quarters. And all those foremost of _Yatis_ and _Munis_ versed in the Vedas, exceedingly desirous of again beholding the Pandavas, went back to their homes. And accompanied by Dhaumya, these heroes, the five learned Pandavas equipped in vows set out with Krishna. And each versed in a separate science, and all proficient in _mantras_ and cognisant of when peace was to be concluded and when war was to be waged those tigers among men, about to enter upon a life of non-recognition, the next day proceeded for a Krose and then sat themselves down with the view of taking counsel of each other." _The End of Vana Parva_ 
6520	----	The Crescent Moon By Rabindranath Tagore Translated from the original Bengali by the author with eight illustrations in colour London and New York: Macmillan and Company, 1913 TO T. STURGE MOORE [Frontispiece: From a drawing by Nandalall Bose--see cbeach.jpg] CONTENTS THE HOME ON THE SEASHORE THE SOURCE BABY'S WAY THE UNHEEDED PAGEANT SLEEP-STEALER THE BEGINNING BABY'S WORLD WHEN AND WHY DEFAMATION THE JUDGE PLAYTHINGS THE ASTRONOMER CLOUDS AND WAVES THE CHAMPA FLOWER FAIRYLAND THE LAND OF THE EXILE THE RAINY DAY PAPER BOATS THE SAILOR THE FURTHER BANK THE FLOWER-SCHOOL THE MERCHANT SYMPATHY VOCATION SUPERIOR THE LITTLE BIG MAN TWELVE O'CLOCK AUTHORSHIP THE WICKED POSTMAN THE HERO THE END THE RECALL THE FIRST JASMINES THE BANYAN TREE BENEDICTION THE GIFT MY SONG THE CHILD-ANGEL THE LAST BARGAIN LIST OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS FRONTISPIECE THE HOME THE BEGINNING FAIRYLAND PAPER BOATS THE MERCHANT THE HERO BENEDICTION INDEX OF THE FIRST LINES Ah, these jasmines Ah, who was it coloured that little frock Bless this little heart Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust Come and hire me Day by day I float my paper boats I am small because I am a little child If baby only wanted to, he could fly If I were only a little puppy If people came to know where my king's palace is I long to go over there Imagine, mother I only said, "When in the evening" I paced alone It is time for me to go, mother I want to give you something, my child I wish I could take a quiet corner Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons Mother, let us imagine we are travelling Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds Mother, the light has grown grey Mother, your baby is silly On the seashore of endless worlds O you shaggy-headed banyan tree Say of him what you please Sullen clouds are gathering Supposing I became a _champa_ flower The boat of the boatman Madhu The night was dark when we went away The sleep that flits on baby's eyes They clamour and fight This song of mine When I bring you coloured toys When storm clouds When the gong sounds ten Where have I come from Who stole sleep from baby's eyes Why are those tears in your eyes, my child Why do you sit there on the floor You say that father writes a lot of books [Illustration: The Home--from a drawing by Nandalall Bose--see chome.jpg] THE HOME I paced alone on the road across the field while the sunset was hiding its last gold like a miser. The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, and the widowed land, whose harvest had been reaped, lay silent. Suddenly a boy's shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unseen, leaving the track of his song across the hush of the evening. His village home lay there at the end of the waste land, beyond the sugar-cane field, hidden among the shadows of the banana and the slender areca palm, the cocoa-nut and the dark green jack-fruit trees. I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight, and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mothers' hearts and evening lamps, and young lives glad with a gladness that knows nothing of its value for the world. ON THE SEASHORE On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets. The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach. On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children. THE SOURCE The sleep that flits on baby's eyes--does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes. The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps--does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning--the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps. The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs--does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love--the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs. BABY'S WAY If baby only wanted to, he could fly up to heaven this moment. It is not for nothing that he does not leave us. He loves to rest his head on mother's bosom, and cannot ever bear to lose sight of her. Baby knows all manner of wise words, though few on earth can understand their meaning. It is not for nothing that he never wants to speak. The one thing he wants is to learn mother's words from mother's lips. That is why he looks so innocent. Baby had a heap of gold and pearls, yet he came like a beggar on to this earth. It is not for nothing he came in such a disguise. This dear little naked mendicant pretends to be utterly helpless, so that he may beg for mother's wealth of love. Baby was so free from every tie in the land of the tiny crescent moon. It was not for nothing he gave up his freedom. He knows that there is room for endless joy in mother's little corner of a heart, and it is sweeter far than liberty to be caught and pressed in her dear arms. Baby never knew how to cry. He dwelt in the land of perfect bliss. It is not for nothing he has chosen to shed tears. Though with the smile of his dear face he draws mother's yearning heart to him, yet his little cries over tiny troubles weave the double bond of pity and love. THE UNHEEDED PAGEANT Ah, who was it coloured that little frock, my child, and covered your sweet limbs with that little red tunic? You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard, tottering and tumbling as you run. But who was it coloured that little frock, my child? What is it makes you laugh, my little life-bud? Mother smiles at you standing on the threshold. She claps her hands and her bracelets jingle, and you dance with your bamboo stick in your hand like a tiny little shepherd. But what is it makes you laugh, my little life-bud? O beggar, what do you beg for, clinging to your mother's neck with both your hands? O greedy heart, shall I pluck the world like a fruit from the sky to place it on your little rosy palm? O beggar, what are you begging for? The wind carries away in glee the tinkling of your anklet bells. The sun smiles and watches your toilet. The sky watches over you when you sleep in your mother's arms, and the morning comes tiptoe to your bed and kisses your eyes. The wind carries away in glee the tinkling of your anklet bells. The fairy mistress of dreams is coming towards you, flying through the twilight sky. The world-mother keeps her seat by you in your mother's heart. He who plays his music to the stars is standing at your window with his flute. And the fairy mistress of dreams is coming towards you, flying through the twilight sky. SLEEP-STEALER Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know. Clasping her pitcher to her waist mother went to fetch water from the village near by. It was noon. The children's playtime was over; the ducks in the pond were silent. The shepherd boy lay asleep under the shadow of the _banyan_ tree. The crane stood grave and still in the swamp near the mango grove. In the meanwhile the Sleep-stealer came and, snatching sleep from baby's eyes, flew away. When mother came back she found baby travelling the room over on all fours. Who stole sleep from our baby's eyes? I must know. I must find her and chain her up. I must look into that dark cave, where, through boulders and scowling stones, trickles a tiny stream. I must search in the drowsy shade of the _bakula_ grove, where pigeons coo in their corner, and fairies' anklets tinkle in the stillness of starry nights. In the evening I will peep into the whispering silence of the bamboo forest, where fireflies squander their light, and will ask every creature I meet, "Can anybody tell me where the Sleep-stealer lives?" Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know. Shouldn't I give her a good lesson if I could only catch her! I would raid her nest and see where she hoards all her stolen sleep. I would plunder it all, and carry it home. I would bind her two wings securely, set her on the bank of the river, and then let her play at fishing with a reed among the rushes and water-lilies. When the marketing is over in the evening, and the village children sit in their mothers' laps, then the night birds will mockingly din her ears with: "Whose sleep will you steal now?" [Illustration: From a drawing by Asit Kumar Haldar--see cbegin.jpg] THE BEGINNING "Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby asked its mother. She answered half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast,-- "You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade you then. You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship I worshipped you. In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother you have lived. In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have been nursed for ages. When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered as a fragrance about it. Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow in the sky before the sunrise. Heaven's first darling, twin-born with the morning light, you have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you have stranded on my heart. As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong to all have become mine. For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of mine?" BABY'S WORLD I wish I could take a quiet corner in the heart of my baby's very own world. I know it has stars that talk to him, and a sky that stoops down to his face to amuse him with its silly clouds and rainbows. Those who make believe to be dumb, and look as if they never could move, come creeping to his window with their stories and with trays crowded with bright toys. I wish I could travel by the road that crosses baby's mind, and out beyond all bounds; Where messengers run errands for no cause between the kingdoms of kings of no history; Where Reason makes kites of her laws and flies them, and Truth sets Fact free from its fetters. WHEN AND WHY When I bring you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints--when I give coloured toys to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance, I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth--when I sing to make you dance. When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands, I know why there is honey in the cup of the flower, and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice--when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands. When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight the summer breeze brings to my body--when I kiss you to make you smile. DEFAMATION Why are those tears in your eyes, my child? How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing? You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing--is that why they call you dirty? O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because it has smudged its face with ink? For every little trifle they blame you, my child. They are ready to find fault for nothing. You tore your clothes while playing--is that why they call you untidy? O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles through its ragged clouds? Take no heed of what they say to you, my child. Take no heed of what they say to you, my child. They make a long list of your misdeeds. Everybody knows how you love sweet things--is that why they call you greedy? O, fie! What then would they call us who love you? THE JUDGE Say of him what you please, but I know my child's failings. I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child. How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults? When I must punish him he becomes all the more a part of my being. When I cause his tears to come my heart weeps with him. I alone have a right to blame and punish, for he only may chastise who loves. PLAYTHINGS Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning. I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig. I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour. Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!" Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies. I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver. With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain. In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game. THE ASTRONOMER I only said, "When in the evening the round full moon gets entangled among the branches of that _Kadam_ tree, couldn't somebody catch it?" But dâdâ [_elder brother_] laughed at me and said, "Baby, you are the silliest child I have ever known. The moon is ever so far from us, how could anybody catch it?" I said, "Dâdâ how foolish you are! When mother looks out of her window and smiles down at us playing, would you call her far away?" Still said, "You are a stupid child! But, baby, where could you find a net big enough to catch the moon with?" I said, "Surely you could catch it with your hands." But dâdâ laughed and said, "You are the silliest child I have known. If it came nearer, you would see how big the moon is." I said, "Dâdâ, what nonsense they teach at your school! When mother bends her face down to kiss us does her face look very big?" But still dâdâ says, "You are a stupid child." CLOUDS AND WAVES Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-- "We play from the time we wake till the day ends. We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon. I ask, "But, how am I to get up to you?" They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds." "My mother is waiting for me at home," I say. "How can I leave her and come?" Then they smile and float away. But I know a nicer game than that, mother. I shall be the cloud and you the moon. I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will be the blue sky. The folk who live in the waves call out to me-- "We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know not where we pass." I ask, "But, how am I to join you?" They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves." I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the evening--how can I leave her and go?" Then they smile, dance and pass by. But I know a better game than that. I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore. I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with laughter. And no one in the world will know where we both are. THE CHAMPA FLOWER Supposing I became a _champa_ flower, just for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know me, mother? You would call, "Baby, where are you?" and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quiet. I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work. When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you walked through the shadow of the _champa_ tree to the little court where you say your prayers, you would notice the scent of the flower, but not know that it came from me. When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading _Ramayana_, and the tree's shadow fell over your hair and your lap, I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page of your book, just where you were reading. But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child? When in the evening you went to the cow-shed with the lighted lamp in your hand, I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story. "Where have you been, you naughty child?" "I won't tell you, mother." That's what you and I would say then. [Illustration: From a drawing by Abanindranath Tagore--see cfairy.jpg] FAIRYLAND If people came to know where my king's palace is, it would vanish into the air. The walls are of white silver and the roof of shining gold. The queen lives in a palace with seven courtyards, and she wears a jewel that cost all the wealth of seven kingdoms. But let me tell you, mother, in a whisper, where my king's palace is. It is at the corner of our terrace where the pot of the _tulsi_ plant stands. The princess lies sleeping on the far-away shore of the seven impassable seas. There is none in the world who can find her but myself. She has bracelets on her arms and pearl drops in her ears; her hair sweeps down upon the floor. She will wake when I touch her with my magic wand, and jewels will fall from her lips when she smiles. But let me whisper in your ear, mother; she is there in the corner of our terrace where the pot of the _tulsi_ plant stands. When it is time for you to go to the river for your bath, step up to that terrace on the roof. I sit in the corner where the shadows of the walls meet together. Only puss is allowed to come with me, for she knows where the barber in the story lives. But let me whisper, mother, in your ear where the barber in the story lives. It is at the corner of the terrace where the pot of the _tulsi_ plant stands. THE LAND OF THE EXILE Mother, the light has grown grey in the sky; I do not know what the time is. There is no fun in my play, so I have come to you. It is Saturday, our holiday. Leave off your work, mother; sit here by the window and tell me where the desert of Tepântar in the fairy tale is? The shadow of the rains has covered the day from end to end. The fierce lightning is scratching the sky with its nails. When the clouds rumble and it thunders, I love to be afraid in my heart and cling to you. When the heavy rain patters for hours on the bamboo leaves, and our windows shake and rattle at the gusts of wind, I like to sit alone in the room, mother, with you, and hear you talk about the desert of Tepântar in the fairy tale. Where is it, mother, on the shore of what sea, at the foot of what hills, in the kingdom of what king? There are no hedges there to mark the fields, no footpath across it by which the villagers reach their village in the evening, or the woman who gathers dry sticks in the forest can bring her load to the market. With patches of yellow grass in the sand and only one tree where the pair of wise old birds have their nest, lies the desert of Tepântar. I can imagine how, on just such a cloudy day, the young son of the king is riding alone on a grey horse through the desert, in search of the princess who lies imprisoned in the giant's palace across that unknown water. When the haze of the rain comes down in the distant sky, and lightning starts up like a sudden fit of pain, does he remember his unhappy mother, abandoned by the king, sweeping the cow-stall and wiping her eyes, while he rides through the desert of Tepântar in the fairy tale? See, mother, it is almost dark before the day is over, and there are no travellers yonder on the village road. The shepherd boy has gone home early from the pasture, and men have left their fields to sit on mats under the eaves of their huts, watching the scowling clouds. Mother, I have left all my books on the shelf--do not ask me to do my lessons now. When I grow up and am big like my father, I shall learn all that must be learnt. But just for to-day, tell me, mother, where the desert of Tepântar in the fairy tale is? THE RAINY DAY Sullen clouds are gathering fast over the black fringe of the forest. O child, do not go out! The palm trees in a row by the lake are smiting their heads against the dismal sky; the crows with their draggled wings are silent on the tamarind branches, and the eastern bank of the river is haunted by a deepening gloom. Our cow is lowing loud, tied at the fence. O child, wait here till I bring her into the stall. Men have crowded into the flooded field to catch the fishes as they escape from the overflowing ponds; the rain water is running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing boy who has run away from his mother to tease her. Listen, someone is shouting for the boatman at the ford. O child, the daylight is dim, and the crossing at the ferry is closed. The sky seems to ride fast upon the madly-rushing rain; the water in the river is loud and impatient; women have hastened home early from the Ganges with their filled pitchers. The evening lamps must be made ready. O child, do not go out! The road to the market is desolate, the lane to the river is slippery. The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo branches like a wild beast tangled in a net. [Illustration: From a drawing by Surendranath Ganguli--see cboat.jpg] PAPER BOATS Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running stream. In big black letters I write my name on them and the name of the village where I live. I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and know who I am. I load my little boats with _shiuli_ flowers from our garden, and hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land in the night. I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the little clouds setting their white bulging sails. I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down the air to race with my boats! When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars. The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading is their baskets full of dreams. THE SAILOR The boat of the boatman Madhu is moored at the wharf of Rajgunj. It is uselessly laden with jute, and has been lying there idle for ever so long. If he would only lend me his boat, I should man her with a hundred oars, and hoist sails, five or six or seven. I should never steer her to stupid markets. I should sail the seven seas and the thirteen rivers of fairyland. But, mother, you won't weep for me in a corner. I am not going into the forest like Ramachandra to come back only after fourteen years. I shall become the prince of the story, and fill my boat with whatever I like. I shall take my friend Ashu with me. We shall sail merrily across the seven seas and the thirteen rivers of fairyland. We shall set sail in the early morning light. When at noontide you are bathing at the pond, we shall be in the land of a strange king. We shall pass the ford of Tirpurni, and leave behind us the desert of Tepântar. When we come back it will be getting dark, and I shall tell you of all that we have seen. I shall cross the seven seas and the thirteen rivers of fairyland. THE FURTHER BANK I long to go over there to the further bank of the river, Where those boats are tied to the bamboo poles in a line; Where men cross over in their boats in the morning with ploughs on their shoulders to till their far-away fields; Where the cowherds make their lowing cattle swim across to the riverside pasture; Whence they all come back home in the evening, leaving the jackals to howl in the island overgrown with weeds, Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferry when I am grown up. They say there are strange pools hidden behind that high bank, Where flocks of wild ducks come when the rains are over, and thick reeds grow round the margins where waterbirds lay their eggs; Where snipes with their dancing tails stamp their tiny footprints upon the clean soft mud; Where in the evening the tall grasses crested with white flowers invite the moonbeam to float upon their waves. Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferryboat when I am grown up. I shall cross and cross back from bank to bank, and all the boys and girls of the village will wonder at me while they are bathing. When the sun climbs the mid sky and morning wears on to noon, I shall come running to you, saying, "Mother, I am hungry!" When the day is done and the shadows cower under the trees, I shall come back in the dusk. I shall never go away from you into the town to work like father. Mother, if you don't mind, I should like to become the boatman of the ferryboat when I am grown up. THE FLOWER-SCHOOL When storm clouds rumble in the sky and June showers come down, The moist east wind comes marching over the heath to blow its bagpipes among the bamboos. Then crowds of flowers come out of a sudden, from nobody knows where, and dance upon the grass in wild glee. Mother, I really think the flowers go to school underground. They do their lessons with doors shut, and if they want to come out to play before it is time, their master makes them stand in a corner. When the rains come they have their holidays. Branches clash together in the forest, and the leaves rustle in the wild wind, the thunder-clouds clap their giant hands and the flower children rush out in dresses of pink and yellow and white. Do you know, mother, their home is in the sky, where the stars are. Haven't you seen how eager they are to get there? Don't you know why they are in such a hurry? Of course, I can guess to whom they raise their arms: they have their mother as I have my own. [Illustration: From a drawing by Asit Kumar Haldar--see cmerchant.jpg] THE MERCHANT Imagine, mother, that you are to stay at home and I am to travel into strange lands. Imagine that my boat is ready at the landing fully laden. Now think well, mother, before you say what I shall bring for you when I come back. Mother, do you want heaps and heaps of gold? There, by the banks of golden streams, fields are full of golden harvest. And in the shade of the forest path the golden _champa_ flowers drop on the ground. I will gather them all for you in many hundred baskets. Mother, do you want pearls big as the raindrops of autumn? I shall cross to the pearl island shore. There in the early morning light pearls tremble on the meadow flowers, pearls drop on the grass, and pearls are scattered on the sand in spray by the wild sea-waves. My brother shall have a pair of horses with wings to fly among the clouds. For father I shall bring a magic pen that, without his knowing, will write of itself. For you, mother, I must have the casket and jewel that cost seven kings their kingdoms. SYMPATHY If I were only a little puppy, not your baby, mother dear, would you say "No" to me if I tried to eat from your dish? Would you drive me off, saying to me, "Get away, you naughty little puppy?" Then go, mother, go! I will never come to you when you call me, and never let you feed me any more. If I were only a little green parrot, and not your baby, mother dear, would you keep me chained lest I should fly away? Would you shake your finger at me and say, "What an ungrateful wretch of a bird! It is gnawing at its chain day and night?" Then, go, mother, go! I will run away into the woods; I will never let you take me in your arms again. VOCATION When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our lane, Every day I meet the hawker crying, "Bangles, crystal bangles!" There is nothing to hurry him on, there is no road he must take, no place he must go to, no time when he must come home. I wish I were a hawker, spending my day in the road, crying, "Bangles, crystal bangles!" When at four in the afternoon I come back from the school, I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging the ground. He does what he likes with his spade, he soils his clothes with dust, nobody takes him to task if he gets baked in the sun or gets wet. I wish I were a gardener digging away at the garden with nobody to stop me from digging. Just as it gets dark in the evening and my mother sends me to bed, I can see through my open window the watchman walking up and down. The lane is dark and lonely, and the street-lamp stands like a giant with one red eye in its head. The watchman swings his lantern and walks with his shadow at his side, and never once goes to bed in his life. I wish I were a watchman walking the streets all night, chasing the shadows with my lantern. SUPERIOR Mother, your baby is silly! She is so absurdly childish! She does not know the difference between the lights in the streets and the stars. When we play at eating with pebbles, she thinks they are real food, and tries to put them into her mouth. When I open a book before her and ask her to learn her a, b, c, she tears the leaves with her hands and roars for joy at nothing; this is your baby's way of doing her lesson. When I shake my head at her in anger and scold her and call her naughty, she laughs and thinks it great fun. Everybody knows that father is away, but if in play I call aloud "Father," she looks about her in excitement and thinks that father is near. When I hold my class with the donkeys that our washerman brings to carry away the clothes and I warn her that I am the schoolmaster, she will scream for no reason and call me dâdâ. [_elder brother_ ] Your baby wants to catch the moon. She is so funny; she calls Ganesh Gânush. [_Ganesh, a common name in India, also that of the god with the elephant's head._] Mother, your baby is silly, she is so absurdly childish! THE LITTLE BIG MAN I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am as old as my father is. My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate and your books." I shall tell him, "Do you not know I am as big as father? And I must not have lessons any more." My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he likes, for he is grown up." I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is thick. My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get lost, my boy; let me carry you." I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father. I must go to the fair alone." Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is grown up." Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key. Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?" I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as father, and I must give silver to my nurse." Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he likes, for he is grown up." In the holiday time in October father will come home and, thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town little shoes and small silken frocks. I shall say, "Father, give them to my dâdâ [_elder brother_], for I am as big as you are." Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he likes, for he is grown up." TWELVE O'CLOCK Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons now. I have been at my book all the morning. You say it is only twelve o'clock. Suppose it isn't any later; can't you ever think it is afternoon when it is only twelve o'clock? I can easily imagine now that the sun has reached the edge of that rice-field, and the old fisher-woman is gathering herbs for her supper by the side of the pond. I can just shut my eyes and think that the shadows are growing darker under the _madar_ tree, and the water in the pond looks shiny black. If twelve o'clock can come in the night, why can't the night come when it is twelve o'clock? AUTHORSHIP You say that father writes a lot of books, but what he writes I don't understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really make out what he meant? What nice stories, mother, you can tell us! Why can't father write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his own mother stories of giants and fairies and princesses? Has he forgotten them all? Often when he gets late for his bath you have to go and call him an hundred times. You wait and keep his dishes warm for him, but he goes on writing and forgets. Father always plays at making books. If ever I go to play in father's room, you come and call me, "what a naughty child!" If I make the slightest noise, you say, "Don't you see that father's at his work?" What's the fun of always writing and writing? When I take up father's pen or pencil and write upon his book just as he does,--a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i,--why do you get cross with me, then, mother? You never say a word when father writes. When my father wastes such heaps of paper, mother, you don't seem to mind at all. But if I take only one sheet to make a boat with, you say, "Child, how troublesome you are!" What do you think of father's spoiling sheets and sheets of paper with black marks all over on both sides? THE WICKED POSTMAN Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all wet, and you don't mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother to come home from school. What has happened to you that you look so strange? Haven't you got a letter from father to-day? I saw the postman bringing letters in his bag for almost everybody in the town. Only, father's letters he keeps to read himself. I am sure the postman is a wicked man. But don't be unhappy about that, mother dear. To-morrow is market day in the next village. You ask your maid to buy some pens and papers. I myself will write all father's letters; you will not find a single mistake. I shall write from A right up to K. But, mother, why do you smile? You don't believe that I can write as nicely as father does! But I shall rule my paper carefully, and write all the letters beautifully big. When I finish my writing, do you think I shall be so foolish as father and drop it into the horrid postman's bag? I shall bring it to you myself without waiting, and letter by letter help you to read my writing. I know the postman does not like to give you the really nice letters. [Illustration: From a drawing by Nandalall Bose--see chero.jpg] THE HERO Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a strange and dangerous country. You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a red horse. It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of _Joradighi_ lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren. You are frightened and thinking--"I know not where we have come to." I say to you, "Mother, do not be afraid." The meadow is prickly with spiky grass, and through it runs a narrow broken path. There are no cattle to be seen in the wide field; they have gone to their village stalls. It grows dark and dim on the land and sky, and we cannot tell where we are going. Suddenly you call me and ask me in a whisper, "What light is that near the bank?" Just then there bursts out a fearful yell, and figures come running towards us. You sit crouched in your palanquin and repeat the names of the gods in prayer. The bearers, shaking in terror, hide themselves in the thorny bush. I shout to you, "Don't be afraid, mother. I am here." With long sticks in their hands and hair all wild about their heads, they come nearer and nearer. I shout, "Have a care! you villains! One step more and you are dead men." They give another terrible yell and rush forward. You clutch my hand and say, "Dear boy, for heaven's sake, keep away from them." I say, "Mother, just you watch me." Then I spur my horse for a wild gallop, and my sword and buckler clash against each other. The fight becomes so fearful, mother, that it would give you a cold shudder could you see it from your palanquin. Many of them fly, and a great number are cut to pieces. I know you are thinking, sitting all by yourself, that your boy must be dead by this time. But I come to you all stained with blood, and say, "Mother, the fight is over now." You come out and kiss me, pressing me to your heart, and you say to yourself, "I don't know what I should do if I hadn't my boy to escort me." A thousand useless things happen day after day, and why couldn't such a thing come true by chance? It would be like a story in a book. My brother would say, "Is it possible? I always thought he was so delicate!" Our village people would all say in amazement, "Was it not lucky that the boy was with his mother?" THE END It is time for me to go, mother; I am going. When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby in the bed, I shall say, "Baby is not there!"--mother, I am going. I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you; and I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you and kiss you again. In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves you will hear my whisper in your bed, and my laughter will flash with the lightning through the open window into your room. If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the night, I shall sing to you from the stars, "Sleep mother, sleep." On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed, and lie upon your bosom while you sleep. I shall become a dream, and through the little opening of your eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep; and when you wake up and look round startled, like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out into the darkness. When, on the great festival of _puja_, the neighbours' children come and play about the house, I shall melt into the music of the flute and throb in your heart all day. Dear auntie will come with _puja_-presents and will ask, "Where is our baby, sister? Mother, you will tell her softly, "He is in the pupils of my eyes, he is in my body and in my soul." THE RECALL The night was dark when she went away, and they slept. The night is dark now, and I call for her, "Come back, my darling; the world is asleep; and no one would know, if you came for a moment while stars are gazing at stars." She went away when the trees were in bud and the spring was young. Now the flowers are in high bloom and I call, "Come back, my darling. The children gather and scatter flowers in reckless sport. And if you come and take one little blossom no one will miss it." Those that used to play are playing still, so spendthrift is life. I listen to their chatter and call, "Come back, my darling, for mother's heart is full to the brim with love, and if you come to snatch only one little kiss from her no one will grudge it." THE FIRST JASMINES Ah, these jasmines, these white jasmines! I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with these jasmines, these white jasmines. I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth; I have heard the liquid murmur of the river through the darkness of midnight; Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of a road in the lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil to accept her lover. Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines that I held in my hand when I was a child. Many a glad day has come in my life, and I have laughed with merrymakers on festival nights. On grey mornings of rain I have crooned many an idle song. I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of _bakulas_ woven by the hand of love. Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh jasmines that filled my hands when I was a child. THE BANYAN TREE O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond, have you forgotten the little child, like the birds that have nested in your branches and left you? Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at the tangle of your roots that plunged underground? The women would come to fill their jars in the pond, and your huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep struggling to wake up. Sunlight danced on the ripples like restless tiny shuttles weaving golden tapestry. Two ducks swam by the weedy margin above their shadows, and the child would sit still and think. He longed to be the wind and blow through your rustling branches, to be your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water, to be a bird and perch on your top-most twig, and to float like those ducks among the weeds and shadows. [Illustration: From a drawing by Surendranath Ganguli--see cbene.jpg] BENEDICTION Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of heaven for our earth. He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his mother's face. He has not learned to despise the dust, and to hanker after gold. Clasp him to your heart and bless him. He has come into this land of an hundred cross-roads. I know not how he chose you from the crowd, came to your door, and grasped your hand to ask his way. He will follow you, laughing and talking, and not a doubt in his heart. Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him. Lay your hand on his head, and pray that though the waves underneath grow threatening, yet the breath from above may come and fill his sails and waft him to the haven of peace. Forget him not in your hurry, let him come to your heart and bless him. THE GIFT I want to give you something, my child, for we are drifting in the stream of the world. Our lives will be carried apart, and our love forgotten. But I am not so foolish as to hope that I could buy your heart with my gifts. Young is your life, your path long, and you drink the love we bring you at one draught and turn and run away from us. You have your play and your playmates. What harm is there if you have no time or thought for us. We, indeed, have leisure enough in old age to count the days that are past, to cherish in our hearts what our hands have lost for ever. The river runs swift with a song, breaking through all barriers. But the mountain stays and remembers, and follows her with his love. MY SONG This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like the fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence you about with aloofness. My song will be like a pair of wings to your dreams, it will transport your heart to the verge of the unknown. It will be like the faithful star overhead when dark night is over your road. My song will sit in the pupils of your eyes, and will carry your sight into the heart of things. And when my voice is silent in death, my song will speak in your living heart. THE CHILD-ANGEL They clamour and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end to their wranglings. Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child, unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence. They are cruel in their greed and their envy, their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood. Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child, and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day. Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the meaning of all things; let them love you and thus love each other. Come and take your seat in the bosom of the limitless, my child. At sunrise open and raise your heart like a blossoming flower, and at sunset bend your head and in silence complete the worship of the day. THE LAST BARGAIN "Come and hire me," I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road. Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot. He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power." But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot. In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors. I wandered along the crooked lane. An old man came out with his bag of gold. He pondered and said, "I will hire you with my money." He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away. It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower. The fair maid came out and said, "I will hire you with a smile." Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark. The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly. A child sat playing with shells. He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, "I hire you with nothing." From thenceforward that bargain struck in child's play made me a free man. THE END 
6523	----	The Post Office By Rabindranath Tagore [Translated from Bengali to English by Devabrata Mukherjee] [New York: The Macmillan Company, 1914 Copyright 1914, by Mitchell Kennerley; Copyright, 1914 by The Macmillan Company] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ MADHAV AMAL, his adopted child SUDHA, a little flower girl THE DOCTOR DAIRYMAN WATCHMAN GAFFER VILLAGE HEADMAN, a bully KING'S HERALD ROYAL PHYSICIAN THE POST OFFICE ACT I [MADHAV'S House] MADHAV. What a state I am in! Before he came, nothing mattered; I felt so free. But now that he has come, goodness knows from where, my heart is filled with his dear self, and my home will be no home to me when he leaves. Doctor, do you think he-- PHYSICIAN. If there's life in his fate, then he will live long. But what the medical scriptures say, it seems-- MADHAV. Great heavens, what? PHYSICIAN. The scriptures have it: "Bile or palsey, cold or gout spring all alike." MADHAV. Oh, get along, don't fling your scriptures at me; you only make me more anxious; tell me what I can do. PHYSICIAN. [Taking snuff] The patient needs the most scrupulous care. MADHAV. That's true; but tell me how. PHYSICIAN. I have already mentioned, on no account must he be let out of doors. MADHAV Poor child, it is very hard to keep him indoors all day long. PHYSICIAN. What else can you do? The autumn sun and the damp are both very bad for the little fellow--for the scriptures have it: "In wheezing, swoon or in nervous fret, In jaundice or leaden eyes--" MADHAV. Never mind the scriptures, please. Eh, then we must shut the poor thing up. Is there no other method? PHYSICIAN. None at all: for, "In the wind and in the sun--" MADHAV. What will your "in this and in that" do for me now? Why don't you let them alone and come straight to the point? What's to be done then? Your system is very, very hard for the poor boy; and he is so quiet too with all his pain and sickness. It tears my heart to see him wince, as he takes your medicine. PHYSICIAN. effect. That's why the sage Chyabana observes: "In medicine as in good advices, the least palatable ones are the truest." Ah, well! I must be trotting now. [Exit] [GAFFER enters] MADHAV. Well, I'm jiggered, there's Gaffer now. GAFFER. Why, why, I won't bite you. MADHAV. No, but you are a devil to send children off their heads. GAFFER. But you aren't a child, and you've no child in the house; why worry then? MADHAV. Oh, but I have brought a child into the house. GAFFER. Indeed, how so? MADHAV. You remember how my wife was dying to adopt a child? GAFFER. Yes, but that's an old story; you didn't like the idea. MADHAV. You know, brother, how hard all this getting money in has been. That somebody else's child would sail in and waste all this money earned with so much trouble--Oh, I hated the idea. But this boy clings to my heart in such a queer sort of way-- GAFFER. So that's the trouble! and your money goes all for him and feels jolly lucky it does go at all. MADHAV. Formerly, earning was a sort of passion with me; I simply couldn't help working for money. Now, I make money and as I know it is all for this dear boy, earning becomes a joy to me. GAFFER. Ah, well, and where did you pick him up? MADHAV. He is the son of a man who was a brother to my wife by village ties. He has had no mother since infancy; and now the other day he lost his father as well. GAFFER. Poor thing: and so he needs me all the more. MADHAV. The doctor says all the organs of his little body are at loggerheads with each other, and there isn't much hope for his life. There is only one way to save him and that is to keep him out of this autumn wind and sun. But you are such a terror! What with this game of yours at your age, too, to get children out of doors! GAFFER. God bless my soul! So I'm already as bad as autumn wind and sun, eh! But, friend, I know something, too, of the game of keeping them indoors. When my day's work is over I am coming in to make friends with this child of yours. [Exit] [AMAL enters] AMAL. Uncle, I say, Uncle! MADHAV. Hullo! Is that you, Amal? AMAL. Mayn't I be out of the courtyard at all? MADHAV. No, my dear, no. AMAL. See, there where Auntie grinds lentils in the quirn, the squirrel is sitting with his tail up and with his wee hands he's picking up the broken grains of lentils and crunching them. Can't I run up there? MADHAV. No, my darling, no. AMAL. Wish I were a squirrel!--it would be lovely. Uncle, why won't you let me go about? MADHAV. Doctor says it's bad for you to be out. AMAL. How can the doctor know? MADHAV. What a thing to say! The doctor can't know and he reads such huge books! AMAL. Does his book-learning tell him everything? MADHAV. Of course, don't you know! AMAL [With a sigh] Ah, I am so stupid! I don't read books. MADHAV. Now, think of it; very, very learned people are all like you; they are never out of doors. AMAL. Aren't they really? MADHAV. No, how can they? Early and late they toil and moil at their books, and they've eyes for nothing else. Now, my little man, you are going to be learned when you grow up; and then you will stay at home and read such big books, and people will notice you and say, "he's a wonder." AMAL. No, no, Uncle; I beg of you by your dear feet--I don't want to be learned, I won't. MADHAV. Dear, dear; it would have been my saving if I could have been learned. AMAL. No, I would rather go about and see everything that there is. MADHAV. Listen to that! See! What will you see, what is there so much to see? AMAL. See that far-away hill from our window--I often long to go beyond those hills and right away. MADHAV. Oh, you silly! As if there's nothing more to be done but just get up to the top of that hill and away! Eh! You don't talk sense, my boy. Now listen, since that hill stands there upright as a barrier, it means you can't get beyond it. Else, what was the use in heaping up so many large stones to make such a big affair of it, eh! AMAL. Uncle, do you think it is meant to prevent your crossing over? It seems to me because the earth can't speak it raises its hands into the sky and beckons. And those who live far and sit alone by their windows can see the signal. But I suppose the learned people-- MADHAV. No, they don't have time for that sort of nonsense. They are not crazy like you. AMAL. Do you know, yesterday I met someone quite as crazy as I am. MADHAV. Gracious me, really, how so? AMAL. He had a bamboo staff on his shoulder with a small bundle at the top, and a brass pot in his left hand, and an old pair of shoes on; he was making for those hills straight across that meadow there. I called out to him and asked, "Where are you going?" He answered, "I don't know, anywhere!" I asked again, "Why are you going?" He said, "I'm going out to seek work." Say, Uncle, have you to seek work? MADHAV. Of course I have to. There's many about looking for jobs. AMAL. How lovely! I'll go about, like them too, finding things to do. MADHAV. Suppose you seek and don't find. Then-- AMAL. Wouldn't that be jolly? Then I should go farther! I watched that man slowly walking on with his pair of worn out shoes. And when he got to where the water flows under the fig tree, he stopped and washed his feet in the stream. Then he took out from his bundle some gram-flour, moistened it with water and began to eat. Then he tied up his bundle and shouldered it again; tucked up his cloth above his knees and crossed the stream. I've asked Auntie to let me go up to the stream, and eat my gram-flour just like him. MADHAV. And what did your Auntie say to that? AMAL. Auntie said, "Get well and then I'll take you over there." Please, Uncle, when shall I get well? MADHAV. It won't be long, dear. AMAL. Really, but then I shall go right away the moment I'm well again. MADHAV. And where will you go? AMAL. Oh, I will walk on, crossing so many streams, wading through water. Everybody will be asleep with their doors shut in the heat of the day and I will tramp on and on seeking work far, very far. MADHAV. I see! I think you had better be getting well first; then-- AMAL. But then you won't want me to be learned, will you, Uncle? MADHAV. What would you rather be then? AMAL. I can't think of anything just now; but I'll tell you later on. MADHAV. Very well. But mind you, you aren't to call out and talk to strangers again. AMAL. But I love to talk to strangers! MADHAV. Suppose they had kidnapped you? AMAL. That would have been splendid! But no one ever takes me away. They all want me to stay in here. MADHAV. I am off to my work--but, darling, you won't go out, will you? AMAL. No, I won't. But, Uncle, you'll let me be in this room by the roadside. [Exit MADHAV] DAIRYMAN. Curds, curds, good nice curds. AMAL. Curdseller, I say, Curdseller. DAIRYMAN. Why do you call me? Will you buy some curds? AMAL. How can I buy? I have no money. DAIRYMAN. What a boy! Why call out then? Ugh! What a waste of time. AMAL. I would go with you if I could. DAIRYMAN. With me? AMAL. Yes, I seem to feel homesick when I hear you call from far down the road. DAIRYMAN. [Lowering his yoke-pole] Whatever are you doing here, my child? AMAL. The doctor says I'm not to be out, so I sit here all day long. DAIRYMAN. My poor child, whatever has happened to you? AMAL. I can't tell. You see I am not learned, so I don't know what's the matter with me. Say, Dairyman, where do you come from? DAIRYMAN. From our village. AMAL. Your village? Is it very far? DAIRYMAN. Our village lies on the river Shamli at the foot of the Panch-mura hills. AMAL. Panch-mura hills! Shamli river! I wonder. I may have seen your village. I can't think when though! DAIRYMAN. Have you seen it? Been to the foot of those hills? AMAL. Never. But I seem to remember having seen it. Your village is under some very old big trees, just by the side of the red road--isn't that so? DAIRYMAN. That's right, child. AMAL. And on the slope of the hill cattle grazing. DAIRYMAN. How wonderful! Aren't there cattle grazing in our village! Indeed, there are! AMAL. And your women with red sarees fill their pitchers from the river and carry them on their heads. DAIRYMAN. Good, that's right. Women from our dairy village do come and draw their water from the river; but then it isn't everyone who has a red saree to put on. But, my dear child, surely you must have been there for a walk some time. AMAL. Really, Dairyman, never been there at all. But the first day doctor lets me go out, you are going to take me to your village. DAIRYMAN. I will, my child, with pleasure. AMAL. And you'll teach me to cry curds and shoulder the yoke like you and walk the long, long road? DAIRYMAN. Dear, dear, did you ever? Why should you sell curds? No, you will read big books and be learned. AMAL. No, I never want to be learned--I'll be like you and take my curds from the village by the red road near the old banyan tree, and I will hawk it from cottage to cottage. Oh, how do you cry--"Curd, curd, good nice curd!" Teach me the tune, will you? DAIRYMAN. Dear, dear, teach you the tune; what an idea! AMAL. Please do. I love to hear it. I can't tell you how queer I feel when I hear you cry out from the bend of that road, through the line of those trees! Do you know I feel like that when I hear the shrill cry of kites from almost the end of the sky? DAIRYMAN. Dear child, will you have some curds? Yes, do. AMAL. But I have no money. DAIRYMAN. No, no, no, don't talk of money! You'll make me so happy if you have a little curds from me. AMAL. Say, have I kept you too long? DAIRYMAN. Not a bit; it has been no loss to me at all; you have taught me how to be happy selling curds. [Exit] AMAL. [Intoning] Curds, curds, good nice curds--from the dairy village--from the country of the Panch-mura hills by the Shamli bank. Curds, good curds; in the early morning the women make the cows stand in a row under the trees and milk them, and in the evening they turn the milk into curds. Curds, good curds. Hello, there's the watchman on his rounds. Watchman, I say, come and have a word with me. WATCHMAN. What's all this row you are making? Aren't you afraid of the likes of me? AMAL. No, why should I be? WATCHMAN. Suppose I march you off then? AMAL. Where will you take me to? Is it very far, right beyond the hills? WATCHMAN. Suppose I march you straight to the King? AMAL. To the King! Do, will you? But the doctor won't let me go out. No one can ever take me away. I've got to stay here all day long. WATCHMAN. Doctor won't let you, poor fellow! So I see! Your face is pale and there are dark rings round your eyes. Your veins stick out from your poor thin hands. AMAL. Won't you sound the gong, Watchman? WATCHMAN. Time has not yet come. AMAL. How curious! Some say time has not yet come, and some say time has gone by! But surely your time will come the moment you strike the gong! WATCHMAN. That's not possible; I strike up the gong only when it is time. AMAL. Yes, I love to hear your gong. When it is midday and our meal is over, Uncle goes off to his work and Auntie falls asleep reading her Râmayana, and in the courtyard under the shadow of the wall our doggie sleeps with his nose in his curled up tail; then your gong strikes out, "Dong, dong, dong!" Tell me why does your gong sound? WATCHMAN. My gong sounds to tell the people, Time waits for none, but goes on forever. AMAL. Where, to what land? WATCHMAN. That none knows. AMAL. Then I suppose no one has ever been there! Oh, I do wish to fly with the time to that land of which no one knows anything. WATCHMAN. All of us have to get there one day, my child. AMAL. Have I too? WATCHMAN. Yes, you too! AMAL. But doctor won't let me out. WATCHMAN. One day the doctor himself may take you there by the hand. AMAL. He won't; you don't know him. He only keeps me in. WATCHMAN. One greater than he comes and lets us free. AMAL. When will this great doctor come for me? I can't stick in here any more. WATCHMAN. Shouldn't talk like that, my child. AMAL. No. I am here where they have left me--I never move a bit. But when your gong goes off, dong, dong, dong, it goes to my heart. Say, Watchman? WATCHMAN. Yes, my dear. AMAL. Say, what's going on there in that big house on the other side, where there is a flag flying high up and the people are always going in and out? WATCHMAN. Oh, there? That's our new Post Office. AMAL. Post Office? Whose? WATCHMAN. Whose? Why, the King's surely! AMAL. Do letters come from the King to his office here? WATCHMAN. Of course. One fine day there may be a letter for you in there. AMAL. A letter for me? But I am only a little boy. WATCHMAN. The King sends tiny notes to little boys. AMAL. Oh, how lovely! When shall I have my letter? How do you guess he'll write to me? WATCHMAN. Otherwise why should he set his Post Office here right in front of your open window, with the golden flag flying? AMAL. But who will fetch me my King's letter when it comes? WATCHMAN. The King has many postmen. Don't you see them run about with round gilt badges on their chests? AMAL. Well, where do they go? WATCHMAN. Oh, from door to door, all through the country. AMAL. I'll be the King's postman when I grow up. WATCHMAN. Ha! ha! Postman, indeed! Rain or shine, rich or poor, from house to house delivering letters--that's very great work! AMAL. That's what I'd like best. What makes you smile so? Oh, yes, your work is great too. When it is silent everywhere in the heat of the noonday, your gong sounds, Dong, dong, dong,--and sometimes when I wake up at night all of a sudden and find our lamp blown out, I can hear through the darkness your gong slowly sounding, Dong, dong, dong! WATCHMAN. There's the village headman! I must be off. If he catches me gossiping with you there'll be a great to do. AMAL. The headman? Whereabouts is he? WATCHMAN. Right down the road there; see that huge palm-leaf umbrella hopping along? That's him! AMAL. I suppose the King's made him our headman here? WATCHMAN. Made him? Oh, no! A fussy busy-body! He knows so many ways of making himself unpleasant that everybody is afraid of him. It's just a game for the likes of him, making trouble for everybody. I must be off now! Mustn't keep work waiting, you know! I'll drop in again to-morrow morning and tell you all the news of the town. [Exit] AMAL. It would be splendid to have a letter from the King every day. I'll read them at the window. But, oh! I can't read writing. Who'll read them out to me, I wonder! Auntie reads her Râmayana; she may know the King's writing. If no one will, then I must keep them carefully and read them when I'm grown up. But if the postman can't find me? Headman, Mr. Headman, may I have a word with you? HEADMAN. Who is yelling after me on the highway? Oh, you wretched monkey! AMAL. You're the headman. Everybody minds you. HEADMAN [Looking pleased] Yes, oh yes, they do! They must! AMAL. Do the King's postmen listen to you? HEADMAN. They've got to. By Jove, I'd like to see-- AMAL. Will you tell the postman it's Amal who sits by the window here? HEADMAN. What's the good of that? AMAL. In case there's a letter for me. HEADMAN. A letter for you! Whoever's going to write to you? AMAL. If the King does. HEADMAN. Ha! ha! What an uncommon little fellow you are! Ha! ha! the King indeed, aren't you his bosom friend, eh! You haven't met for a long while and the King is pining, I am sure. Wait till to-morrow and you'll have your letter. AMAL. Say, Headman, why do you speak to me in that tone of voice? Are you cross? HEADMAN. Upon my word! Cross, indeed! You write to the King! Madhav is devilish swell nowadays. He'd made a little pile; and so kings and padishahs are everyday talk with his people. Let me find him once and I'll make him dance. Oh, you snipper-snapper! I'll get the King's letter sent to your house--indeed I will! AMAL. No, no, please don't trouble yourself about it. HEADMAN. And why not, pray! I'll tell the King about you and he won't be very long. One of his footmen will come along presently for news of you. Madhav's impudence staggers me. If the King hears of this, that'll take some of his nonsense out of him. [Exit] AMAL. Who are you walking there? How your anklets tinkle! Do stop a while, dear, won't you? [A GIRL enters] GIRL. I haven't a moment to spare; it is already late! AMAL. I see, you don't wish to stop; I don't care to stay on here either. GIRL. You make me think of some late star of the morning! Whatever's the matter with you? AMAL. I don't know; the doctor won't let me out. GIRL. Ah me! Don't then! Should listen to the doctor. People'll be cross with you if you're naughty. I know, always looking out and watching must make you feel tired. Let me close the window a bit for you. AMAL. No, don't, only this one's open! All the others are shut. But will you tell me who you are? Don't seem to know you. GIRL. I am Sudha. AMAL. What Sudha? SUDHA. Don't you know? Daughter of the flower-seller here. AMAL. What do you do? SUDHA. I gather flowers in my basket. AMAL. Oh, flower gathering! That is why your feet seem so glad and your anklets jingle so merrily as you walk. Wish I could be out too. Then I would pick some flowers for you from the very topmost branches right out of sight. SUDHA. Would you really? Do you know more about flowers than I? AMAL. Yes, I do, quite as much. I know all about Champa of the fairy tale and his seven brothers. If only they let me, I'll go right into the dense forest where you can't find your way. And where the honey-sipping hummingbird rocks himself on the end of the thinnest branch, I will flower out as a champa. Would you be my sister Parul? SUDHA. You are silly! How can I be sister Parul when I am Sudha and my mother is Sasi, the flower-seller? I have to weave so many garlands a day. It would be jolly if I could lounge here like you! AMAL. What would you do then, all the day long? SUDHA. I could have great times with my doll Benay the bride, and Meni the pussycat and--but I say it is getting late and I mustn't stop, or I won't find a single flower. AMAL. Oh, wait a little longer; I do like it so! SUDHA. Ah, well--now don't you be naughty. Be good and sit still and on my way back home with the flowers I'll come and talk with you. AMAL. And you'll let me have a flower then? SUDHA. No, how can I? It has to be paid for. AMAL. I'll pay when I grow up--before I leave to look for work out on the other side of that stream there. SUDHA. Very well, then. AMAL. And you'll come back when you have your flowers? SUDHA. I will. AMAL. You will, really? SUDHA. Yes, I will. AMAL. You won't forget me? I am Amal, remember that. SUDHA. I won't forget you, you'll see. [Exit] [A TROOP OF BOYS enter] AMAL. Say, brothers, where are you all off to? Stop here a little. BOYS. We're off to play. AMAL. What will you play at, brothers? BOYS. We'll play at being ploughmen. FIRST BOY [Showing a stick] This is our ploughshare. SECOND BOY. We two are the pair of oxen. AMAL. And you're going to play the whole day? BOYS. Yes, all day long. AMAL. And you'll come back home in the evening by the road along the river bank? BOYS. Yes. AMAL. Do you pass our house on your way home? BOYS. You come out to play with us, yes do. AMAL. Doctor won't let me out. BOYS. Doctor! Suppose the likes of you mind the doctor. Let's be off; it is getting late. AMAL. Don't. Why not play on the road near this window? I could watch you then. THIRD BOY. What can we play at here? AMAL. With all these toys of mine lying about. Here you are, have them. I can't play alone. They are getting dirty and are of no use to me. BOYS. How jolly! What fine toys! Look, here's a ship. There's old mother Jatai; say, chaps, ain't he a gorgeous sepoy? And you'll let us have them all? You don't really mind? AMAL. No, not a bit; have them by all means. BOYS. You don't want them back? AMAL. Oh, no, I shan't want them. BOYS. Say, won't you get a scolding for this? AMAL. No one will scold me. But will you play with them in front of our door for a while every morning? I'll get you new ones when these are old. BOYS. Oh, yes, we will. Say, chaps, put these sepoys into a line. We'll play at war; where can we get a musket? Oh, look here, this bit of reed will do nicely. Say, but you're off to sleep already. AMAL. I'm afraid I'm sleepy. I don't know, I feel like it at times. I have been sitting a long while and I'm tired; my back aches. BOYS. It's only early noon now. How is it you're sleepy? Listen! The gong's sounding the first watch. AMAL. Yes, dong, dong, dong, it tolls me to sleep. BOYS. We had better go then. We'll come in again to-morrow morning. AMAL. I want to ask you something before you go. You are always out--do you know of the King's postmen? BOYS. Yes, quite well. AMAL. Who are they? Tell me their names. BOYS. One's Badal, another's Sarat. There's so many of them. AMAL. Do you think they will know me if there's a letter for me? BOYS. Surely, if your name's on the letter they will find you out. AMAL. When you call in to-morrow morning, will you bring one of them along so that he'll know me? BOYS. Yes, if you like. CURTAIN THE POST OFFICE ACT II [AMAL in Bed] AMAL. Can't I go near the window to-day, Uncle? Would the doctor mind that too? MADHAV. Yes, darling, you see you've made yourself worse squatting there day after day. AMAL. Oh, no, I don't know if it's made me more ill, but I always feel well when I'm there. MADHAV. No, you don't; you squat there and make friends with the whole lot of people round here, old and young, as if they are holding a fair right under my eaves--flesh and blood won't stand that strain. Just see--your face is quite pale. AMAL. Uncle, I fear my fakir'll pass and not see me by the window. MADHAV. Your fakir, whoever's that? AMAL. He comes and chats to me of the many lands where he's been. I love to hear him. MADHAV. How's that? I don't know of any fakirs. AMAL. This is about the time he comes in. I beg of you, by your dear feet, ask him in for a moment to talk to me here. [GAFFER Enters in a FAKIR'S Guise] AMAL. There you are. Come here, Fakir, by my bedside. MADHAV. Upon my word, but this is-- GAFFER. [Winking hard] I am the fakir. MADHAV. It beats my reckoning what you're not. AMAL. Where have you been this time, Fakir? FAKIR. To the Isle of Parrots. I am just back. MADHAV. The Parrots' Isle! FAKIR. Is it so very astonishing? Am I like you, man? A journey doesn't cost a thing. I tramp just where I like. AMAL. [Clapping] How jolly for you! Remember your promise to take me with you as your follower when I'm well. FAKIR. Of course, and I'll teach you such secrets too of travelling that nothing in sea or forest or mountain can bar your way. MADHAV. What's all this rigmarole? GAFFER. Amal, my dear, I bow to nothing in sea or mountain; but if the doctor joins in with this uncle of yours, then I with all my magic must own myself beaten. AMAL. No. Uncle shan't tell the doctor. And I promise to lie quiet; but the day I am well, off I go with the Fakir and nothing in sea or mountain or torrent shall stand in my way. MADHAV. Fie, dear child, don't keep on harping upon going! It makes me so sad to hear you talk so. AMAL. Tell me, Fakir, what the Parrots' Isle is like. GAFFER. It's a land of wonders; it's a haunt of birds. There's no man; and they neither speak nor walk, they simply sing and they fly. AMAL. How glorious! And it's by some sea? GAFFER. Of course. It's on the sea. AMAL. And green hills are there? GAFFER. Indeed, they live among the green hills; and in the time of the sunset when there is a red glow on the hillside, all the birds with their green wings flock back to their nests. AMAL. And there are waterfalls! GAFFER. Dear me, of course; you don't have a hill without its waterfalls. Oh, it's like molten diamonds; and, my dear, what dances they have! Don't they make the pebbles sing as they rush over them to the sea. No devil of a doctor can stop them for a moment. The birds looked upon me as nothing but a man, quite a trifling creature without wings--and they would have nothing to do with me. Were it not so I would build a small cabin for myself among their crowd of nests and pass my days counting the sea waves. AMAL. How I wish I were a bird! Then-- GAFFER. But that would have been a bit of a job; I hear you've fixed up with the dairyman to be a hawker of curds when you grow up; I'm afraid such business won't flourish among birds; you might land yourself into serious loss. MADHAV. Really this is too much. Between you two I shall turn crazy. Now, I'm off. AMAL. Has the dairyman been, Uncle? MADHAV. And why shouldn't he? He won't bother his head running errands for your pet fakir, in and out among the nests in his Parrots' Isle. But he has left a jar of curd for you saying that he is rather busy with his niece's wedding in the village, and he has got to order a band at Kamlipara. AMAL. But he is going to marry me to his little niece. GAFFER. Dear me, we are in a fix now. AMAL. He said she would find me a lovely little bride with a pair of pearl drops in her ears and dressed in a lovely red sâree; and in the morning she would milk with her own hands the black cow and feed me with warm milk with foam on it from a brand new earthen cruse; and in the evenings she would carry the lamp round the cow-house, and then come and sit by me to tell me tales of Champa and his six brothers. [Transcriber's note: In act 1, Amal mentions to Sudha about Champa and his seven brothers. In this act, Amal mentions to Gaffer about Champa and his six brothers. Translator error?] GAFFER. How delicious! The prospect tempts even me, a hermit! But never mind, dear, about this wedding. Let it be. I tell you when you wed there'll be no lack of nieces in his household. MADHAV. Shut up! This is more than I can stand. [Exit] AMAL. Fakir, now that Uncle's off, just tell me, has the King sent me a letter to the Post Office? GAFFER. I gather that his letter has already started; but it's still on the way. AMAL. On the way? Where is it? Is it on that road winding through the trees which you can follow to the end of the forest when the sky is quite clear after rain? GAFFER. That's so. You know all about it already. AMAL. I do, everything. GAFFER. So I see, but how? AMAL. I can't say; but it's quite clear to me. I fancy I've seen it often in days long gone by. How long ago I can't tell. Do you know when? I can see it all: there, the King's postman coming down the hillside alone, a lantern in his left hand and on his back a bag of letters climbing down for ever so long, for days and nights, and where at the foot of the mountain the waterfall becomes a stream he takes to the footpath on the bank and walks on through the rye; then comes the sugarcane field and he disappears into the narrow lane cutting through the tall stems of sugarcanes; then he reaches the open meadow where the cricket chirps and where there is not a single man to be seen, only the snipe wagging their tails and poking at the mud with their bills. I can feel him coming nearer and nearer and my heart becomes glad. GAFFER. My eyes aren't young; but you make me see all the same. AMAL. Say, Fakir, do you know the King who has this Post Office? GAFFER. I do; I go to him for my alms every day. AMAL. Good! When I get well, I must have my alms too from him, mayn't I? GAFFER. You won't need to ask, my dear, he'll give it to you of his own accord. AMAL. No, I would go to his gate and cry, "Victory to thee, O King!" and dancing to the tabor's sound, ask for alms. Won't it be nice? GAFFER. It would be splendid, and if you're with me, I shall have my full share. But what'll you ask? AMAL. I shall say, "Make me your postman, that I may go about lantern in hand, delivering your letters from door to door. Don't let me stay at home all day!" GAFFER. What is there to be sad for, my child, even were you to stay at home? AMAL. It isn't sad. When they shut me in here first I felt the day was so long. Since the King's Post Office I like it more and more being indoors, and as I think I shall get a letter one day, I feel quite happy and then I don't mind being quiet and alone. I wonder if I shall make out what'll be in the King's letter? GAFFER. Even if you didn't wouldn't it be enough if it just bore your name? [MADHAV enters] MADHAV. Have you any idea of the trouble you've got me into, between you two? GAFFER. What's the matter? MADHAV. I hear you've let it get rumored about that the King has planted his office here to send messages to both of you. GAFFER. Well, what about it? MADHAV. Our headman Panchanan has had it told to the King anonymously. GAFFER. Aren't we aware that everything reaches the King's ears? MADHAV. Then why don't you look out? Why take the King's name in vain? You'll bring me to ruin if you do. AMAL. Say, Fakir, will the King be cross? GAFFER. Cross, nonsense! And with a child like you and a fakir such as I am. Let's see if the King be angry, and then won't I give him a piece of my mind. AMAL. Say, Fakir, I've been feeling a sort of darkness coming over my eyes since the morning. Everything seems like a dream. I long to be quiet. I don't feel like talking at all. Won't the King's letter come? Suppose this room melts away all on a sudden, suppose-- GAFFER. [Fanning AMAL] The letter's sure to come to-day, my boy. [DOCTOR enters] DOCTOR. And how do you feel to-day? AMAL. Feel awfully well to-day, Doctor. All pain seems to have left me. DOCTOR. [Aside to MADHAV] Don't quite like the look of that smile. Bad sign that, his feeling well! Chakradhan has observed-- MADHAV. For goodness sake, Doctor, leave Chakradhan alone. Tell me what's going to happen? DOCTOR. Can't hold him in much longer, I fear! I warned you before--This looks like a fresh exposure. MADHAV. No, I've used the utmost care, never let him out of doors; and the windows have been shut almost all the time. DOCTOR. There's a peculiar quality in the air to-day. As I came in I found a fearful draught through your front door. That's most hurtful. Better lock it at once. Would it matter if this kept your visitors off for two or three days? If someone happens to call unexpectedly--there's the back door. You had better shut this window as well, it's letting in the sunset rays only to keep the patient awake. MADHAV. Amal has shut his eyes. I expect he is sleeping. His face tells me--Oh, Doctor, I bring in a child who is a stranger and love him as my own, and now I suppose I must lose him! DOCTOR. What's that? There's your headman sailing in!--What a bother! I must be going, brother. You had better stir about and see to the doors being properly fastened. I will send on a strong dose directly I get home. Try it on him--it may save him at last, if he can be saved at all. [Exeunt MADHAV and DOCTOR.] [The HEADMAN enters] HEADMAN. Hello, urchin! GAFFER. [Rising hastily] 'Sh, be quiet. AMAL. No, Fakir, did you think I was asleep? I wasn't. I can hear everything; yes, and voices far away. I feel that mother and father are sitting by my pillow and speaking to me. [MADHAV enters] HEADMAN. I say, Madhav, I hear you hobnob with bigwigs nowadays. MADHAV. Spare me your jests, Headman, we are but common people. HEADMAN. But your child here is expecting a letter from the King. MADHAV. Don't you take any notice of him, a mere foolish boy! HEADMAN. Indeed, why not! It'll beat the King hard to find a better family! Don't you see why the King plants his new Post Office right before your window? Why there's a letter for you from the King, urchin. AMAL. [Starting up] Indeed, really! HEADMAN. How can it be false? You're the King's chum. Here's your letter [showing a blank slip of paper]. Ha, ha, ha! This is the letter. AMAL. Please don't mock me. Say, Fakir, is it so? GAFFER. Yes, my dear. I as Fakir tell you it is his letter. AMAL. How is it I can't see? It all looks so blank to me. What is there in the letter, Mr. Headman? HEADMAN. The King says, "I am calling on you shortly; you had better arrange puffed rice offerings for me.--Palace fare is quite tasteless to me now." Ha! ha! ha! MADHAV. [With folded palms] I beseech you, headman, don't you joke about these things-- GAFFER. Cutting jokes indeed, dare he! MADHAV. Are you out of your mind too, Gaffer? GAFFER. Out of my mind, well then I am; I can read plainly that the King writes he will come himself to see Amal, with the state physician. AMAL. Fakir, Fakir, 'sh, his trumpet! Can't you hear? HEADMAN. Ha! ha! ha! I fear he won't until he's a bit more off his head. AMAL. Mr. Headman, I thought you were cross with me and didn't love me. I never could think you would fetch me the King's letter. Let me wipe the dust off your feet. HEADMAN. This little child does have an instinct of reverence. Though a little silly, he has a good heart. AMAL. It's hard on the fourth watch now, I suppose--Hark the gong, "Dong, dong, ding," "Dong, dong, ding." Is the evening star up? How is it I can't see-- GAFFER. Oh, the windows are all shut, I'll open them. [A knocking outside] MADHAV. What's that?--Who is it--what a bother! VOICE. [From outside] Open the door. MADHAV Say, Headman--Hope they're not robbers. HEADMAN. Who's there?--It's Panchanan, the headman, calls--Aren't you afraid of the like of me? Fancy! The noise has ceased! Panchanan's voice carries far.--Yes, show me the biggest robbers! MADHAV. [Peering out of the window] I should think the noise has ceased. They've smashed the door. [THE KING'S HERALD enters] HERALD. Our Sovereign King comes to-night! HEADMAN. My God! AMAL. At what hour of the night, Herald? HERALD. On the second watch. AMAL. When from the city gates my friend the watchman will strike his gong, "ding dong ding, ding dong ding"--then? HERALD. Yes, then. The King sends his greatest physician to attend on his young friend. [STATE Physician enters] STATE PHYSICIAN. What's this? How close it is here! Open wide all the doors and windows. [Feeling AMAL'S body] How do you feel, my child? AMAL. I feel very well, Doctor, very well. All pain is gone. How fresh and open! I can see all the stars now twinkling from the other side of the dark. PHYSICIAN. Will you feel well enough to leave your bed with the King when he comes in the middle watches of the night? AMAL. Of course, I'm dying to be about for ever so long. I'll ask the King to find me the polar star.--I must have seen it often, but I don't know exactly which it is. PHYSICIAN. He will tell you everything. [To MADHAV] Will you go about and arrange flowers through the room for the King's visit? [Indicating the HEADMAN] We can't have that person in here. AMAL. No, let him be, Doctor. He is a friend. It was he who brought me the King's letter. PHYSICIAN. Very well, my child. He may remain if he is a friend of yours. MADHAV [Whispering into AMAL'S ear] My child, the King loves you. He is coming himself. Beg for a gift from him. You know our humble circumstances. AMAL. Don't you worry, Uncle.--I've made up my mind about it. MADHAV. What is it, my child? AMAL. I shall ask him to make me one of his postmen that I may wander far and wide, delivering his message from door to door. MADHAV. [Slapping his forehead] Alas, is that all? AMAL. What'll be our offerings to the King, Uncle, when he comes? HERALD. He has commanded puffed rice. AMAL. Puffed rice! Say, Headman, you're right. You said so. You knew all we didn't. HEADMAN. If you send word to my house then I could manage for the King's advent really nice-- PHYSICIAN. No need at all. Now be quiet all of you. Sleep is coming over him. I'll sit by his pillow; he's dropping into slumber. Blow out the oil-lamp. Only let the star-light stream in. Hush, he slumbers. MADHAV. [Addressing GAFFER] What are you standing there for like a statue, folding your palms.--I am nervous.--Say, are they good omens? Why are they darkening the room? How will star-light help? GAFFER. Silence, unbeliever. [SUDHA enters] SUDHA. Amal! PHYSICIAN. He's asleep. SUDHA. I have some flowers for him. Mayn't I give them into his own hand? PHYSICIAN. Yes, you may. SUDHA. When will he be awake? PHYSICIAN. Directly the King comes and calls him. SUDHA. Will you whisper a word for me in his ear? PHYSICIAN. What shall I say? SUDHA. Tell him Sudha has not forgotten him. CURTAIN 
6524	----	Stray Birds By Rabindranath Tagore [translated from Bengali to English by the author] New York: The Macmillan Company, 1916 [Frontispiece in color by Willy Pogány] To T. HARA of Yokohama 1 Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh. 2 O troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words. 3 The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal. 4 It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom. 5 The mighty desert is burning for the love of a blade of grass who shakes her head and laughs and flies away. 6 If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars. 7 The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness? 8 Her wistful face haunts my dreams like the rain at night. 9 Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other. 10 Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among the silent trees. 11 Some unseen fingers, like idle breeze, are playing upon my heart the music of the ripples. 12 "What language is thine, O sea?" "The language of eternal question." "What language is thy answer, O sky? "The language of eternal silence." 13 Listen, my heart, to the whispers of the world with which it makes love to you. 14 The mystery of creation is like the darkness of night--it is great. Delusions of knowledge are like the fog of the morning. 15 Do not seat your love upon a precipice because it is high. 16 I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes. 17 These little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their whisper of joy in my mind. 18 What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow. 19 My wishes are fools, they shout across thy songs, my Master. Let me but listen. 20 I cannot choose the best. The best chooses me. 21 They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back. 22 That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life. 23 "We, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?" "I am a mere flower." 24 Rest belongs to the work as the eyelids to the eyes. 25 Man is a born child, his power is the power of growth. 26 God expects answers for the flowers he sends us, not for the sun and the earth. 27 The light that plays, like a naked child, among the green leaves happily knows not that man can lie. 28 O Beauty, find thyself in love, not in the flattery of thy mirror. 29 My heart beats her waves at the shore of the world and writes upon it her signature in tears with the words, "I love thee." 30 "Moon, for what do you wait?" "To salute the sun for whom I must make way." 31 The trees come up to my window like the yearning voice of the dumb earth. 32 His own mornings are new surprises to God. 33 Life finds its wealth by the claims of the world, and its worth by the claims of love. 34 The dry river-bed finds no thanks for its past. 35 The bird wishes it were a cloud. The cloud wishes it were a bird. 36 The waterfall sings, "I find my song, when I find my freedom." 37 I cannot tell why this heart languishes in silence. It is for small needs it never asks, or knows or remembers. 38 Woman, when you move about in your household service your limbs sing like a hill stream among its pebbles. 39 The sun goes to cross the Western sea, leaving its last salutation to the East. 40 Do not blame your food because you have no appetite. 41 The trees, like the longings of the earth, stand a-tiptoe to peep at the heaven. 42 You smiled and talked to me of nothing and I felt that for this I had been waiting long. 43 The fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing, But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air. 44 The world rushes on over the strings of the lingering heart making the music of sadness. 45 He has made his weapons his gods. When his weapons win he is defeated himself. 46 God finds himself by creating. 47 Shadow, with her veil drawn, follows Light in secret meekness, with her silent steps of love. 48 The stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies. 49 I thank thee that I am none of the wheels of power but I am one with the living creatures that are crushed by it. 50 The mind, sharp but not broad, sticks at every point but does not move. 51 Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God's dust is greater than your idol. 52 Man does not reveal himself in his history, he struggles up through it. 53 While the glass lamp rebukes the earthen for calling it cousin, the moon rises, and the glass lamp, with a bland smile, calls her, "My dear, dear sister." 54 Like the meeting of the seagulls and the waves we meet and come near. The seagulls fly off, the waves roll away and we depart. 55 My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening. 56 Life is given to us, we earn it by giving it. 57 We come nearest to the great when we are great in humility. 58 The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail. 59 Never be afraid of the moments--thus sings the voice of the everlasting. 60 The hurricane seeks the shortest road by the no-road, and suddenly ends its search in the Nowhere. 61 Take my wine in my own cup, friend. It loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others. 62 The Perfect decks itself in beauty for the love of the Imperfect. 63 God says to man, "I heal you therefore I hurt, love you therefore punish." 64 Thank the flame for its light, but do not forget the lampholder standing in the shade with constancy of patience. 65 Tiny grass, your steps are small, but you possess the earth under your tread. 66 The infant flower opens its bud and cries, "Dear World, please do not fade." 67 God grows weary of great kingdoms, but never of little flowers. 68 Wrong cannot afford defeat but Right can. 69 "I give my whole water in joy," sings the waterfall, "though little of it is enough for the thirsty." 70 Where is the fountain that throws up these flowers in a ceaseless outbreak of ecstasy? 71 The woodcutter's axe begged for its handle from the tree. The tree gave it. 72 In my solitude of heart I feel the sigh of this widowed evening veiled with mist and rain. 73 Chastity is a wealth that comes from abundance of love. 74 The mist, like love, plays upon the heart of the hills and brings out surprises of beauty. 75 We read the world wrong and say that it deceives us. 76 The poet wind is out over the sea and the forest to seek his own voice. 77 Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man. 78 The grass seeks her crowd in the earth. The tree seeks his solitude of the sky. 79 Man barricades against himself. 80 Your voice, my friend, wanders in my heart, like the muffled sound of the sea among these listening pines. 81 What is this unseen flame of darkness whose sparks are the stars? 82 Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves. 83 He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open. 84 In death the many becomes one; in life the one becomes many. Religion will be one when God is dead. 85 The artist is the lover of Nature, therefore he is her slave and her master. 86 "How far are you from me, O Fruit?" "I am hidden in your heart, O Flower." 87 This longing is for the one who is felt in the dark, but not seen in the day. 88 "You are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side," said the dewdrop to the lake. 89 The scabbard is content to be dull when it protects the keenness of the sword. 90 In darkness the One appears as uniform; in the light the One appears as manifold. 91 The great earth makes herself hospitable with the help of the grass. 92 The birth and death of the leaves are the rapid whirls of the eddy whose wider circles move slowly among stars. 93 Power said to the world, "You are mine. The world kept it prisoner on her throne. Love said to the world, "I am thine." The world gave it the freedom of her house. 94 The mist is like the earth's desire. It hides the sun for whom she cries. 95 Be still, my heart, these great trees are prayers. 96 The noise of the moment scoffs at the music of the Eternal. 97 I think of other ages that floated upon the stream of life and love and death and are forgotten, and I feel the freedom of passing away. 98 The sadness of my soul is her bride's veil. It waits to be lifted in the night. 99 Death's stamp gives value to the coin of life; making it possible to buy with life what is truly precious. 100 The cloud stood humbly in a corner of the sky. The morning crowned it with splendour. 101 The dust receives insult and in return offers her flowers. 102 Do not linger to gather flowers to keep them, but walk on, for flowers will keep themselves blooming all your way. 103 Roots are the branches down in the earth. Branches are roots in the air. 104 The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest. 105 Do not insult your friend by lending him merits from your own pocket. 106 The touch of the nameless days clings to my heart like mosses round the old tree. 107 The echo mocks her origin to prove she is the original. 108 God is ashamed when the prosperous boasts of His special favour. 109 I cast my own shadow upon my path, because I have a lamp that has not been lighted. 110 Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silence. 111 That which ends in exhaustion is death, but the perfect ending is in the endless. 112 The sun has his simple robe of light. The clouds are decked with gorgeousness. 113 The hills are like shouts of children who raise their arms, trying to catch stars. 114 The road is lonely in its crowd for it is not loved. 115 The power that boasts of its mischiefs is laughed at by the yellow leaves that fall, and clouds that pass by. 116 The earth hums to me to-day in the sun, like a woman at her spinng, some ballad of the ancient time in a forgotten tongue. 117 The grass-blade is worth of the great world where it grows. 118 Dream is a wife who must talk. Sleep is a husband who silently suffers. 119 The night kisses the fading day whispering to his ear, "I am death, your mother. I am to give you fresh birth." 120 I feel, thy beauty, dark night, like that of the loved woman when she has put out the lamp. 121 I carry in my world that flourishes the worlds that have failed. 122 Dear friend, I feel the silence of your great thoughts of may a deepening eventide on this beach when I listen to these waves. 123 The bird thinks it is an act of kindness to give the fish a lift in the air. 124 "In the moon thou sendest thy love letters to me," said the night to the sun. "I leave my answers in tears upon the grass." 125 The Great is a born child; when he dies he gives his great childhood to the world. 126 Not hammerstrokes, but dance of the water sings the pebbles into perfection. 127 Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave. The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him. 128 To be outspoken is easy when you do not wait to speak the complete truth. 129 Asks the Possible to the Impossible, "Where is your dwelling place?" "In the dreams of the impotent," comes the answer. 130 If you shut your door to all errors truth will be shut out. 131 I hear some rustle of things behind my sadness of heart,--I cannot see them. 132 Leisure in its activity is work. The stillness of the sea stirs in waves. 133 The leaf becomes flower when it loves. The flower becomes fruit when it worships. 134 The roots below the earth claim no rewards for making the branches fruitful. 135 This rainy evening the wind is restless. I look at the swaying branches and ponder over the greatness of all things. 136 Storm of midnight, like a giant child awakened in the untimely dark, has begun to play and shout. 137 Thou raisest thy waves vainly to follow thy lover. O sea, thou lonely bride of the storm. 138 "I am ashamed of my emptiness," said the Word to the Work. "I know how poor I am when I see you," said the Work to the Word. 139 Time is the wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth. 140 Truth in her dress finds facts too tight. In fiction she moves with ease. 141 When I travelled to here and to there, I was tired of thee, O Road, but now when thou leadest me to everywhere I am wedded to thee in love. 142 Let me think that there is one among those stars that guides my life through the dark unknown. 143 Woman, with the grace of your fingers you touched my things and order came out like music. 144 One sad voice has its nest among the ruins of the years. It sings to me in the night,--"I loved you." 145 The flaming fire warns me off by its own glow. Save me from the dying embers hidden under ashes. 146 I have my stars in the sky, But oh for my little lamp unlit in my house. 147 The dust of the dead words clings to thee. Wash thy soul with silence. 148 Gaps are left in life through which comes the sad music of death. 149 The world has opened its heart of light in the morning. Come out, my heart, with thy love to meet it. 150 My thoughts shimmer with these shimmering leaves and my heart sings with the touch of this sunlight; my life is glad to be floating with all things into the blue of space, into the dark of time. 151 God's great power is in the gentle breeze, not in the storm. 152 This is a dream in which things are all loose and they oppress. I shall find them gathered in thee when I awake and shall be free. 153 "Who is there to take up my duties?" asked the setting sun. "I shall do what I can, my Master," said the earthen lamp. 154 By plucking her petals you do not gather the beauty of the flower. 155 Silence will carry your voice like the nest that holds the sleeping birds. 156 The Great walks with the Small without fear. The Middling keeps aloof. 157 The night opens the flowers in secret and allows the day to get thanks. 158 Power takes as ingratitude the writhings of its victims. 159 When we rejoice in our fulness, then we can part with our fruits with joy. 160 The raindrops kissed the earth and whispered,--"We are thy homesick children, mother, come back to thee from the heaven." 161 The cobweb pretends to catch dew-drops and catches flies. 162 Love! when you come with the burning lamp of pain in your hand, I can see your face and know you as bliss. 163 "The learned say that your lights will one day be no more." said the firefly to the stars. The stars made no answer. 164 In the dusk of the evening the bird of some early dawn comes to the nest of my silence. 165 Thoughts pass in my mind like flocks of ducks in the sky. I hear the voice of their wings. 166 The canal loves to think that rivers exist solely to supply it with water. 167 The world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs. 168 That which oppresses me, is it my soul trying to come out in the open, or the soul of the world knocking at my heart for its entrance? 169 Thought feeds itself with its own words and grows. 170 I have dipped the vessel of my heart into this silent hour; it has filled with love. 171 Either you have work or you have not. When you have to say, "Let us do something," then begins mischief. 172 The sunflower blushed to own the nameless flower as her kin. The sun rose and smiled on it, saying, "Are you well, my darling?" 173 "Who drives me forward like fate?" "The Myself striding on my back." 174 The clouds fill the watercups of the river, hiding themselves in the distant hills. 175 I spill water from my water jar as I walk on my way, Very little remains for my home. 176 The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence. 177 Your smile was the flowers of your own fields, your talk was the rustle of your own mountain pines, but your heart was the woman that we all know. 178 It is the little things that I leave behind for my loved ones,-- great things are for everyone. 179 Woman, thou hast encircled the world's heart with the depth of thy tears as the sea has the earth. 180 The sunshine greets me with a smile. The rain, his sad sister, talks to my heart. 181 My flower of the day dropped its petals forgotten. In the evening it ripens into a golden fruit of memory. 182 I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence. 183 The evening sky to me is like a window, and a lighted lamp, and a waiting behind it. 184 He who is too busy doing good finds no time to be good. 185 I am the autumn cloud, empty of rain, see my fulness in the field of ripened rice. 186 They hated and killed and men praised them. But God in shame hastens to hide its memory under the green grass. 187 Toes are the fingers that have forsaken their past. 188 Darkness travels towards light, but blindness towards death. 189 The pet dog suspects the universe for scheming to take its place. 190 Sit still my heart, do not raise your dust. Let the world find its way to you. 191 The bow whispers to the arrow before it speeds forth--"Your freedom is mine." 192 Woman, in your laughter you have the music of the fountain of life. 193 A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it. 194 God loves man's lamp lights better than his own great stars. 195 This world is the world of wild storms kept tame with the music of beauty. 196 "My heart is like the golden casket of thy kiss," said the sunset cloud to the sun. 197 By touching you may kill, by keeping away you may possess. 198 The cricket's chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth. 199 "I have lost my dewdrop," cries the flower to the morning sky that has lost all its stars. 200 The burning log bursts in flame and cries,--"This is my flower, my death." 201 The wasp thinks that the honey-hive of the neighbouring bees is too small. His neighbours ask him to build one still smaller. 202 "I cannot keep your waves," says the bank to the river. "Let me keep your footprints in my heart." 203 The day, with the noise of this little earth, drowns the silence of all worlds. 204 The song feels the infinite in the air, the picture in the earth, the poem in the air and the earth; For its words have meaning that walks and music that soars. 205 When the sun goes down to the West, the East of his morning stands before him in silence. 206 Let me not put myself wrongly to my world and set it against me. 207 Praise shames me, for I secretly beg for it. 208 Let my doing nothing when I have nothing to do become untroubled in its depth of peace like the evening in the seashore when the water is silent. 209 Maiden, your simplicity, like the blueness of the lake, reveals your depth of truth. 210 The best does not come alone. It comes with the company of the all. 211 God's right hand is gentle, but terrible is his left hand. 212 My evening came among the alien trees and spoke in a language which my morning stars did not know. 213 Night's darkness is a bag that bursts with the gold of the dawn. 214 Our desire lends the colours of the rainbow to the mere mists and vapours of life. 215 God waits to win back his own flowers as gifts from man's hands. 216 My sad thoughts tease me asking me their own names. 217 The service of the fruit is precious, the service of the flower is sweet, but let my service be the service of the leaves in its shade of humble devotion. 218 My heart has spread its sails to the idle winds for the shadowy island of Anywhere. 219 Men are cruel, but Man is kind. 220 Make me thy cup and let my fulness be for thee and for thine. 221 The storm is like the cry of some god in pain whose love the earth refuses. 222 The world does not leak because death is not a crack. 223 Life has become richer by the love that has been lost. 224 My friend, your great heart shone with the sunrise of the East like the snowy summit of a lonely hill in the dawn. 225 The fountain of death makes the still water of life play. 226 Those who have everything but thee, my God, laugh at those who have nothing but thyself. 227 The movement of life has its rest in its own music. 228 Kicks only raise dust and not crops from the earth. 229 Our names are the light that glows on the sea waves at night and then dies without leaving its signature. 230 Let him only see the thorns who has eyes to see the rose. 231 Set bird's wings with gold and it will never again soar in the sky. 232 The same lotus of our clime blooms here in the alien water with the same sweetness, under another name. 233 In heart's perspective the distance looms large. 234 The moon has her light all over the sky, her dark spots to herself. 235 Do not say, "It is morning," and dismiss it with a name of yesterday. See it for the first time as a new-born child that has no name. 236 Smoke boasts to the sky, and Ashes to the earth, that they are brothers to the fire. 237 The raindrop whispered to the jasmine, "Keep me in your heart for ever." The jasmine sighed, "Alas," and dropped to the ground. 238 Timid thoughts, do not be afraid of me. I am a poet. 239 The dim silence of my mind seems filled with crickets' chirp--the grey twilight of sound. 240 Rockets, your insult to the stars follows yourself back to the earth. 241 Thou hast led me through my crowded travels of the day to my evening's loneliness. I wait for its meaning through the stillness of the night. 242 This life is the crossing of a sea, where we meet in the same narrow ship. In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds. 243 The stream of truth flows through its channels of mistakes. 244 My heart is homesick to-day for the one sweet hour across the sea of time. 245 The bird-song is the echo of the morning light back from the earth. 246 "Are you too proud to kiss me?" the morning light asks the buttercup. 247 "How may I sing to thee and worship, O Sun?" asked the little flower. "By the simple silence of thy purity," answered the sun. 248 Man is worse than an animal when he is an animal. 249 Dark clouds become heaven's flowers when kissed by light. 250 Let not the sword-blade mock its handle for being blunt. 251 The night's silence, like a deep lamp, is burning with the light of its milky way. 252 Around the sunny island of Life swells day and night death's limitless song of the sea. 253 Is not this mountain like a flower, with its petals of hills, drinking the sunlight? 254 The real with its meaning read wrong and emphasis misplaced is the unreal. 255 Find your beauty, my heart, from the world's movement, like the boat that has the grace of the wind and the water. 256 The eyes are not proud of their sight but of their eyeglasses. 257 I live in this little world of mine and am afraid to make it the least less. Lift me into thy world and let me have the freedom gladly to lose my all. 258 The false can never grow into truth by growing in power. 259 My heart, with its lapping waves of song, longs to caress this green world of the sunny day. 260 Wayside grass, love the star, then your dreams will come out in flowers. 261 Let your music, like a sword, pierce the noise of the market to its heart. 262 The trembling leaves of this tree touch my heart like the fingers of an infant child. 263 This sadness of my soul is her bride's veil. It waits to be lifted in the night. 264 The little flower lies in the dust. It sought the path of the butterfly. 265 I am in the world of the roads. The night comes. Open thy gate, thou world of the home. 266 I have sung the songs of thy day. In the evening let me carry thy lamp through the stormy path. 267 I do not ask thee into the house. Come into my infinite loneliness, my Lover. 268 Death belongs to life as birth does. The walk is in the raising of the foot as in the laying of it down. 269 I have learnt the simple meaning of thy whispers in flowers and sunshine--teach me to know thy words in pain and death. 270 The night's flower was late when the morning kissed her, she shivered and sighed and dropped to the ground. 271 Through the sadness of all things I hear the crooning of the Eternal Mother. 272 I came to your shore as a stranger, I lived in your house as a guest, I leave your door as a friend, my earth. 273 Let my thoughts come to you, when I am gone, like the afterglow of sunset at the margin of starry silence. 274 Light in my heart the evening star of rest and then let the night whisper to me of love. 275 I am a child in the dark. I stretch my hands through the coverlet of night for thee, Mother. 276 The day of work is done. Hide my face in your arms, Mother. Let me dream. 277 The lamp of meeting burns long; it goes out in a moment at the parting. 278 One word keep for me in thy silence, O World, when I am dead, "I have loved." 279 We live in this world when we love it. 280 Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love. 281 I have seen thee as the half-awakened child sees his mother in the dusk of the dawn and then smiles and sleeps again. 282 I shall die again and again to know that life is inexhaustible. 283 While I was passing with the crowd in the road I saw thy smile from the balcony and I sang and forgot all noise. 284 Love is life in its fulness like the cup with its wine. 285 They light their own lamps and sing their own words in their temples. But the birds sing thy name in thine own morning light,--for thy name is joy. 286 Lead me in the centre of thy silence to fill my heart with songs. 287 Let them live who choose in their own hissing world of fireworks. My heart longs for thy stars, my God. 288 Love's pain sang round my life like the unplumbed sea, and love's joy sang like birds in its flowering groves. 289 Put out the lamp when thou wishest. I shall know thy darkness and shall love it. 290 When I stand before thee at the day's end thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing. 291 Some day I shall sing to thee in the sunrise of some other world, "I have seen thee before in the light of the earth, in the love of man." 292 Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky. 293 Truth raises against itself the storm that scatters its seeds broadcast. 294 The storm of the last night has crowned this morning with golden peace. 295 Truth seems to come with its final word; and the final word gives birth to its next. 296 Blessed is he whose fame does not outshine his truth. 297 Sweetness of thy name fills my heart when I forget mine--like thy morning sun when the mist is melted. 298 The silent night has the beauty of the mother and the clamorous day of the child. 299 The world loved man when he smiled. The world became afraid of him when he laughed. 300 God waits for man to regain his childhood in wisdom. 301 Let me feel this world as thy love taking form, then my love will help it. 302 Thy sunshine smiles upon the winter days of my heart, never doubting of its spring flowers. 303 God kisses the finite in his love and man the infinite. 304 Thou crossest desert lands of barren years to reach the moment of fulfilment. 305 God's silence ripens man's thoughts into speech. 306 Thou wilt find, Eternal Traveller, marks of thy footsteps across my songs. 307 Let me not shame thee, Father, who displayest thy glory in thy children. 308 Cheerless is the day, the light under frowning clouds is like a punished child with traces of tears on its pale cheeks, and the cry of the wind is like the cry of a wounded world. But I know I am travelling to meet my Friend. 309 To-night there is a stir among the palm leaves, a swell in the sea, Full Moon, like the heart throb of the world. From what unknown sky hast thou carried in thy silence the aching secret of love? 310 I dream of a star, an island of light, where I shall be born and in the depth of its quickening leisure my life will ripen its works like the ricefield in the autumn sun. 311 The smell of the wet earth in the rain rises like a great chant of praise from the voiceless multitude of the insignificant. 312 That love can ever lose is a fact that we cannot accept as truth. 313 We shall know some day that death can never rob us of that which our soul has gained, for her gains are one with herself. 314 God comes to me in the dusk of my evening with the flowers from my past kept fresh in his basket. 315 When all the strings of my life will be tuned, my Master, then at every touch of thine will come out the music of love. 316 Let me live truly, my Lord, so that death to me become true. 317 Man's history is waiting in patience for the triumph of the insulted man. 318 I feel thy gaze upon my heart this moment like the sunny silence of the morning upon the lonely field whose harvest is over. 319 I long for the Island of Songs across this heaving Sea of Shouts. 320 The prelude of the night is commenced in the music of the sunset, in its solemn hymn to the ineffable dark. 321 I have scaled the peak and found no shelter in fame's bleak and barren height. Lead me, my Guide, before the light fades, into the valley of quiet where life's harvest mellows into golden wisdom. 322 Things look phantastic in this dimness of the dusk--the spires whose bases are lost in the dark and tree tops like blots of ink. I shall wait for the morning and wake up to see thy city in the light. 323 I have suffered and despaired and known death and I am glad that I am in this great world. 324 There are tracts in my life that are bare and silent. They are the open spaces where my busy days had their light and air. 325 Release me from my unfulfilled past clinging to me from behind making death difficult. 326 Let this be my last word, that I trust in thy love. 
52309	----	[Illustration] TWENTY-TWO GOBLINS _All rights reserved_ [Illustration: Love-cluster ... stood at her lattice window.] _TWENTY-TWO GOBLINS_ TRANSLATED FROM THE SANSKRIT BY ARTHUR W. RYDER [Illustration] WITH TWENTY ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY PERHAM W. NAHL LONDON & TORONTO J. M. DENT & SONS LTD. NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. MCMXVII _Printed in Great Britain by Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh_ CONTENTS _Page_ _Introduction_ 1 _Goblin- story_ 1. _The Prince's Elopement. Whose fault was the resulting death of his parents-in-law?_ 5 2. _The Three Lovers who brought the Dead Girl to Life. Whose wife should she be?_ 19 3. _The Parrot and the Thrush. Which are worse, men or women?_ 25 4. _King Shudraka and Hero's Family. Which of the five deserves the most honour?_ 37 5. _The Brave Man, the Wise Man, and the Clever Man. To which should the girl be given?_ 51 6. _The Girl who transposed the Heads of her Husband and Brother. Which combination of head and body is her husband?_ 57 7. _The Mutual Services of King Fierce-lion and Prince Good. Which is the more deserving?_ 63 8. _The Specialist in Food, the Specialist in Women, and the Specialist in Cotton. Which is the cleverest?_ 75 9. _The Four Scientific Suitors. To which should the girl be given?_ 81 10. _The Three Delicate Wives of King Virtue-banner. Which is the most delicate?_ 87 11. _The King who won a Fairy as his Wife. Why did his counsellor's heart break?_ 91 12. _The Brahman who died because Poison from a Snake in the Claws of a Hawk fell into a Dish of Food given him by a Charitable Woman. Who is to blame for his death?_ 109 13. _The Girl who showed Great Devotion to the Thief. Did he weep or laugh?_ 117 14. _The Man who changed into a Woman at Will. Was his wife his or the other man's?_ 125 15. _The Fairy Prince Cloud-chariot and the Serpent Shell-crest. Which is the more self-sacrificing?_ 135 16. _The King who died for Love of his General's Wife; the General follows him in Death. Which is the more worthy?_ 157 17. _The Youth who went through the Proper Ceremonies. Why did he fail to win the magic spell?_ 163 18. _The Boy whom his Parents, the King, and the Giant conspired to Kill. Why did he laugh at the moment of death?_ 173 19. _The Man, his Wife, and her Lover, who all died for Love. Which was the most foolish?_ 187 20. _The Four Brothers who brought a Dead Lion to Life. Which is to blame when he kills them all?_ 197 21. _The Old Hermit who exchanged his Body for that of the Dead Boy. Why did he weep and dance?_ 203 22. _The Father and Son who married Daughter and Mother. What relation were their children?_ 209 _Conclusion_ 217 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS _Love-cluster ... stood at her lattice window_ _Frontispiece_ _facing page_ _They took her body to the cemetery and burned it_ 17 _The thrush suddenly became a goddess_ 32 _Trusty worshipped the goddess and bravely saluted her_ 42 _The giant came out in anger and the brave man fought with him_ 55 _"Do nothing rash, my daughter, leave the rope alone"_ 61 _Good sank into the ocean, and when he looked about he saw a wonderful city_ 67 _The brothers went to the ocean, and there they found a turtle_ 78 _"I understand the cries of all beasts and birds"_ 83 _She gradually recovered consciousness_ 88 _When he saw that she was saved, the king cried, "Come, come to me!"_ 97 _The summer came on him like a lion_ 112 _With a turn of the wrist he sent the dagger flying from the chief's hand_ 121 _An elephant came by, crushing the people in his path_ 126 _He climbed the rock of sacrifice, eager to give his life for another_ 148 _"Shall I go into the fire or go home?"_ 163 _The giant laughed aloud, spit fire in his wrath, and showed his dreadful fangs_ 174 _A merchant named Fortune richer than the god of wealth_ 188 _The lion arose and killed his four creators_ 200 _He comforted her and soothed her with tender words_ 214 [Illustration: TWENTY-TWO GOBLINS] INTRODUCTION On the bank of the Godavari River is a kingdom called the Abiding Kingdom. There lived the son of King Victory, the famous King Triple-victory, mighty as the king of the gods. As this king sat in judgment, a monk called Patience brought him every day one piece of fruit as an expression of homage. And the king took it and gave it each day to the treasurer who stood near. Thus twelve years passed. Now one day the monk came to court, gave the king a piece of fruit as usual, and went away. But on this day the king gave the fruit to a pet baby monkey that had escaped from his keepers, and happened to wander in. And as the monkey ate the fruit, he split it open, and a priceless, magnificent gem came out. When the king saw this, he took it and asked the treasurer: "Where have you been keeping the fruits which the monk brought? I gave them to you." When the treasurer heard this, he was frightened and said: "Your Majesty, I have thrown them all through the window. If your Majesty desires, I will look for them now." And when the king had dismissed him, he went, but returned in a moment, and said again: "Your Majesty, they were all smashed in the treasury, and in them I see heaps of dazzling gems." When he heard this, the king was delighted, and gave the jewels to the treasurer. And when the monk came the next day, he asked him: "Monk, why do you keep honouring me in such an expensive way? Unless I know the reason, I will not take your fruit." Then the monk took the king aside and said: "O hero, there is a business in which I need help. So I ask for your help in it, because you are a brave man." And the king promised his assistance. Then the monk was pleased, and said again: "O King, on the last night of the waning moon, you must go to the great cemetery at nightfall, and come to me under the fig-tree." Then the king said "Certainly," and Patience, the monk, went home well pleased. So when the night came, the mighty king remembered his promise to the monk, and at dusk he wrapped his head in a black veil, took his sword in his hand, and went to the great cemetery without being seen. When he got there, he looked about, and saw the monk standing under the fig-tree and making a magic circle. So he went up and said: "Monk, here I am. Tell me what I am to do for you." And when the monk saw the king, he was delighted and said: "O King, if you wish to do me a favour, go south from here some distance all alone, and you will see a sissoo tree and a dead body hanging from it. Be so kind as to bring that here." When the brave king heard this, he agreed, and, true to his promise, turned south and started. And as he walked with difficulty along the cemetery road, he came upon the sissoo tree at some distance, and saw a body hanging on it. So he climbed the tree, cut the rope, and let it fall to the ground. And as it fell, it unexpectedly cried aloud, as if alive. Then the king climbed down, and thinking it was alive, he mercifully rubbed its limbs. Then the body gave a loud laugh. So the king knew that a goblin lived in it, and said without fear: "What are you laughing about? Come, let us be off." But then he did not see the goblin on the ground any longer. And when he looked up, there he was, hanging in the tree as before. So the king climbed the tree again, and carefully carried the body down. A brave man's heart is harder than a diamond, and nothing makes it tremble. Then he put the body with the goblin in it on his shoulder, and started off in silence. And as he walked along, the goblin in the body said: "O King, to amuse the journey, I will tell you a story. Listen." FIRST GOBLIN _The Prince's Elopement. Whose fault was the resulting death of his parents-in-law?_ There is a city called Benares where Shiva lives. It is loved by pious people like the soil of Mount Kailasa. The river of heaven shines there like a pearl necklace. And in the city lived a king called Valour who burned up all his enemies by his valour, as a fire burns a forest. He had a son named Thunderbolt who broke the pride of the love-god by his beauty, and the pride of men by his bravery. This prince had a clever friend, the son of a counsellor. One day the prince was enjoying himself with his friend hunting, and went a long distance. And so he came to a great forest. There he saw a beautiful lake, and being tired, he drank from it with his friend the counsellor's son, washed his hands and feet, and sat down under a tree on the bank. And then he saw a beautiful maiden who had come there with her servants to bathe. She seemed to fill the lake with the stream of her beauty, and seemed to make lilies grow there with her eyes, and seemed to shame the lotuses with a face more lovely than the moon. She captured the prince's heart the moment that he saw her. And the prince took her eyes captive. The girl had a strange feeling when she saw him, but was too modest to say a word. So she gave a hint of the feeling in her heart. She put a lotus on her ear, laid a lily on her head after she had made the edge look like a row of teeth, and placed her hand on her heart. But the prince did not understand her signs, only the clever counsellor's son understood them all. A moment later the girl went away, led by her servants. She went home and sat on the sofa and stayed there. But her thoughts were with the prince. The prince went slowly back to his city, and was terribly lonely without her, and grew thinner every day. Then his friend the son of the counsellor took him aside and told him that she was not hard to find. But he had lost all courage and said: "My friend, I don't know her name, nor her home, nor her family. How can I find her? Why do you vainly try to comfort me?" Then the counsellor's son said: "Did you not see all that she hinted with her signs? When she put the lotus on her ear, she meant that she lived in the kingdom of a king named Ear-lotus. And when she made the row of teeth, she meant that she was the daughter of a man named Bite there. And when she laid the lily on her head, she meant that her name was Lily. And when she placed her hand on her heart, she meant that she loved you. And there is a king named Ear-lotus in the Kalinga country. There is a very rich man there whom the king likes. His real name is Battler, but they call him Bite. He has a pearl of a girl whom he loves more than his life, and her name is Lily. This is true, because people told me. So I understood her signs about her country and the other things." When the counsellor's son had said this, the prince was delighted to find him so clever, and pleased because he knew what to do. Then he formed a plan with the counsellor's son, and started for the lake again, pretending that he was going to hunt, but really to find the girl that he loved. On the way he rode like the wind away from his soldiers, and started for the Kalinga country with the counsellor's son. When they reached the city of King Ear-lotus, they looked about and found the house of the man called Bite, and they went to a house near by to live with an old woman. And the counsellor's son said to the old woman: "Old woman, do you know anybody named Bite in this city?" Then the old woman answered him respectfully: "My son, I know him well. I was his nurse. And I am a servant of his daughter Lily. But I do not go there now because my dress is stolen. My naughty son is a gambler and steals my clothes." Then the counsellor's son was pleased and satisfied her with his own cloak and other presents. And he said: "Mother, you must do very secretly what we tell you. Go to Bite's daughter Lily, and tell her that the prince whom she saw on the bank of the lake is here, and sent you with a love-message to her." The old woman was pleased with the gifts and went to Lily at once. And when she got a chance, she said: "My child, the prince and the counsellor's son have come to take you. Tell me what to do now." But the girl scolded her and struck her cheeks with both hands smeared with camphor. The old woman was hurt by this treatment, and came home weeping, and said to the two men: "My sons, see how she left the marks of her fingers on my face." And the prince was hopeless and sad, but the very clever counsellor's son took him aside and said: "My friend, do not be sad. She was only keeping the secret when she scolded the old woman, and put ten fingers white with camphor on her face. She meant that you must wait before seeing her, for the next ten nights are bright with moonlight." So the counsellor's son comforted the prince, took a little gold ornament and sold it in the market, and bought a great dinner for the old woman. So they two took dinner with the old woman. They did this for ten days, and then the counsellor's son sent her to Lily again, to find out something more. And the old woman was eager for dainty food and drink. So to please him she went to Lily's house, and then came back and said: "My children, I went there and stayed with her for some time without speaking. But she spoke herself of my naughtiness in mentioning you, and struck me again on the chest with three fingers stained red. So I came back in disgrace." Then the counsellor's son whispered to the prince: "Don't be alarmed, my friend. When she left the marks of three red fingers on the old woman's heart, she meant to say very cleverly that there were three dangerous days coming." So the counsellor's son comforted the prince. And when three days were gone, he sent the old woman to Lily again. And this time she went and was very respectfully entertained, and treated to wine and other things the whole day. But when she was ready to go back in the evening, a terrible shouting was heard outside. They heard people running and crying: "Oh, oh! A mad elephant has escaped from his stable and is running around and stamping on people." Then Lily said to the old woman: "Mother, you must not go through the street now where the elephant is. I will put you in a swing and let you down with ropes through this great window into the garden. Then you can climb into a tree and jump on the wall, and go home by way of another tree." So she had her servants let the old woman down from the window into the garden by a rope-swing. And the old woman went home and told the prince and the counsellor's son all about it. Then the counsellor's son said to the prince: "My friend, your wishes are fulfilled. She has been clever enough to show you the road. So you must follow that same road this very evening to the room of your darling." So the prince went to the garden with the counsellor's son by the road that the old woman had shown them. And there he saw the rope-swing hanging down, and servants above keeping an eye on the road. And when he got into the swing, the servants at the window pulled at the rope and he came to his darling. And when he had gone in, the counsellor's son went back to the old woman's house. But the prince saw Lily, and her face was beautiful like the full moon, and the moonlight of her beauty shone forth, like the night when the moon shines in secret because of the dark. And when she saw him, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. So he married her and stayed hidden with her for some days. One day he said to his wife: "My dear, my friend the counsellor's son came with me, and he is staying all alone at the old woman's house. I must go and see him, then I will come back." But Lily was shrewd and said: "My dear, I must ask you something. Did you understand the signs I made, or was it the counsellor's son?" And the prince said to her: "My dear, I did not understand them all, but my friend has wonderful wisdom. He understood everything and told me." Then the sweet girl thought, and said: "My dear, you did wrong not to tell me before. Your friend is a real brother to me. I ought to have sent him some nuts and other nice things at the very first." Then she let him go, and he went to his friend by night by the same road, and told all that his wife had said. But the counsellor's son said: "That is foolish," and did not think much of it. So they spent the night talking. Then when the time for the twilight sacrifice came, a friend of Lily's came there with cooked rice and nuts in her hand. She came and asked the counsellor's son about his health and gave him the present. And she cleverly tried to keep the prince from eating. "Your wife is expecting you to dinner," she said, and a moment later she went away. Then the counsellor's son said to the prince: "Look, your Majesty. I will show you something curious." So he took a little of the cooked rice and gave it to a dog that was there. And the moment he ate it, the dog died. And the prince asked the counsellor's son what this strange thing could mean. And he replied: "Your Majesty, she knew that I was clever because I understood her signs, and she wanted to kill me out of love for you. For she thought the prince would not be all her own while I was alive, but would leave her for my sake and go back to his own city. So she sent me poisoned food to eat. But you must not be angry with her. I will think up some scheme." Then the prince praised the counsellor's son, and said: "You are truly the body of wisdom." And then suddenly a great wailing of grief-stricken people was heard: "Alas! Alas! The king's little son is dead." When he heard this, the counsellor's son was delighted, and said: "Your Majesty, go to-night to Lily's house, and make her drink wine until she loses her senses and seems to be dead. Then as she lies there, make a mark on her hip with a red-hot fork, steal her jewels, and come back the old way through the window. After that I will do the right thing." Then he made a three-pronged fork and gave it to the prince. And the prince took the crooked, cruel thing, hard as the weapon of Death, and went by night as before to Lily's house. "A king," he thought, "ought not to disregard the words of a high-minded counsellor." So when he had stupefied her with wine, he branded her hip with the fork, stole her jewels, returned to his friend, and told him everything, showing him the jewels. Then the counsellor's son felt sure that his scheme was successful. He went to the cemetery in the morning, and disguised himself as a hermit, and the prince as his pupil. And he said: "Take this pearl necklace from among the jewels. Go and sell it in the market-place. And if the policemen arrest you, say this: 'It was given to me to sell by my teacher.'" So the prince went to the market-place and stood there offering the pearl necklace for sale, and he was arrested while doing it by the policemen. And as they were eager to find out about the theft of the jewels from Bite's daughter, they took the prince at once to the chief of police. And when he saw that the culprit was dressed like a hermit, he asked him very gently: "Holy sir, where did you get this pearl necklace? It belongs to Bite's daughter and was stolen." Then the prince said to them: "Gentlemen, my teacher gave it to me to sell. You had better go and ask him." Then the chief of police went and asked him: "Holy sir, how did this pearl necklace come into your pupil's hand?" And the shrewd counsellor's son whispered to him: "Sir, as I am a hermit, I wander about all the time in this region. And as I happened to be here in this cemetery, I saw a whole company of witches who came here at night. And one of the witches split open the heart of a king's son, and offered it to her master. She was mad with wine, and screwed up her face most horribly. But when she impudently tried to snatch my rosary as I prayed, I became angry, and branded her on the hip with a three-pronged fork which I had made red-hot with a magic spell. And I took this pearl necklace from her neck. Then, as it was not a thing for a hermit, I sent it to be sold." When he heard this, the chief of police went and told the whole story to the king. And when the king heard and saw the evidence, he sent the old woman, who was reliable, to identify the pearl necklace. And he heard from her that Lily was branded on the hip. Then he was convinced that she was really a witch and had devoured his son. So he went himself to the counsellor's son, who was disguised as a hermit, and asked how Lily should be punished. And by his advice, she was banished from the city, though her parents wept. So she was banished naked to the forest and knew that the counsellor's son had done it all, but she did not die. [Illustration: They took her body to the cemetery and burned it.] And at nightfall the prince and the counsellor's son put off their hermit disguise, mounted on horseback, and found her weeping. They put her on a horse and took her to their own country. And when they got there, the prince lived most happily with her. But Bite thought that his daughter was eaten by wild beasts in the wood, and he died of grief. And his wife died with him. * * * * * When he had told this story, the goblin asked the king: "O King, who was to blame for the death of the parents: the prince, or the counsellor's son, or Lily? You seem like a very wise man, so resolve my doubts on this point. If you know and do not tell me the truth, then your head will surely fly into a hundred pieces. And if you give a good answer, then I will jump from your shoulder and go back to the sissoo tree." Then King Triple-victory said to the goblin: "You are a master of magic. You surely know yourself, but I will tell you. It was not the fault of any of the three you mentioned. It was entirely the fault of King Ear-lotus." But the goblin said: "How could it be the king's fault? The other three did it. Are the crows to blame when the geese eat up the rice?" Then the king said: "But those three are not to blame. It was right for the counsellor's son to do his master's business. So he is not to blame. And Lily and the prince were madly in love and could not stop to think. They only looked after their own affairs. They are not to blame. "But the king knew the law-books very well, and he had spies to find out the facts among the people. And he knew about the doings of rascals. So he acted without thinking. He is to blame." When the goblin heard this, he wanted to test the king's constancy. So he went back by magic in a moment to the sissoo tree. And the king went back fearlessly to get him. SECOND GOBLIN _The Three Lovers who brought the Dead Girl to Life. Whose wife should she be?_ Then King Triple-victory went back under the sissoo tree to fetch the goblin. And when he got there and looked about, he saw the goblin fallen on the ground and moaning. Then, when the king put the body with the goblin in it on his shoulder and started to carry him off quickly and silently, the goblin on his shoulder said to him: "O King, you have fallen into a very disagreeable task which you do not deserve. So to amuse you I will tell another story. Listen." * * * * * On the bank of the Kalindi River is a farm where a very learned Brahman lived. And he had a very beautiful daughter named Coral. When the Creator fashioned her fresh and peerless loveliness, surely he must have despised the cleverness he showed before in fashioning the nymphs of heaven. When she had grown out of childhood, there came from the city of Kanauj three Brahman youths, endowed with all the virtues. And each of them asked her father for her, that she might be his own. And though her father would rather have died than give her up to anyone, he made up his mind to give her to one of them. But the girl would not marry any one of them for some time, because she was afraid of hurting the feelings of the other two. So they stayed there all three of them day and night, feasting on the beauty of her face, like the birds that live on moonbeams. Then all at once Coral fell sick of a burning fever and died. And when the Brahman youths saw that she was dead, they were smitten with grief. But they adorned her body, took it to the cemetery, and burned it. And one of them built a hut there, slept on a bed made of her ashes, and got his food by begging. The second took her bones and went to dip them in the sacred Ganges river. And the third became a monk and wandered in other countries. And as he wandered, the monk came to a village called Thunderbolt, and was entertained in the house of a Brahman. But when he had been honoured by the master of the house and had begun to eat dinner there, the little boy began to cry and would not stop even when they petted him. So his mother took him on her arm, and angrily threw him into the blazing fire. And being tender, he was reduced to ashes in a moment. When the monk saw this, his hair stood on end, and he said: "Alas! I have come into the house of a devil. I will not eat this food. It would be like eating sin." But the master of the house said to him: "Brahman, I have studied to good purpose. See my skill in bringing the dead to life." So he opened a book, took out a magic spell, read it, and sprinkled water on the ashes. And the moment the water was sprinkled, the boy stood up alive just as before. Then the monk was highly delighted and finished his dinner with pleasure. And the master of the house hung the book on an ivory peg, took dinner with the monk, and went to bed. When he was asleep, the monk got up quietly, and tremblingly took the book, hoping to bring his darling Coral back to life. He went away and travelled night and day, until he finally reached the cemetery. And he caught sight of the second youth, who had come back after dipping the bones in the Ganges. And he also found the third youth, who had made a hut and lived there, sleeping on the girl's ashes. Then the monk cried: "Brother, leave your hut. I will bring the dear girl back to life." And while they eagerly questioned him, he opened the book, and read the magic spell, and sprinkled holy water on the ashes. And Coral immediately stood up, alive. And the girl was more beautiful than ever. She looked as if she were made of gold. When the three youths saw her come back to life like that, they went mad with love, and fought with one another to possess her. One said: "I brought her to life by my magic spell. She is my wife." The second said: "She came to life because of my journey to the sacred river. She is my wife." The third said: "I kept her ashes. That is why she came to life. She is my dear wife." O King, you are able to decide their dispute. Tell me. Whose wife should she be? If you know and say what is false, then your head will split. When the king heard this, he said to the goblin: "The man who painfully found the magic spell and brought her back to life, he did only what a father ought to do. He is not her husband. And the man who went to dip her bones in the sacred river, he did only what a son ought to do. He is not her husband. But the man who slept with her ashes and lived a hard life in the cemetery, he did what a lover ought to do. He deserves to be her husband." When the goblin heard this answer of King Triple-victory, he suddenly escaped from his shoulder and went back. And the king wished to do as the monk had asked him; so he decided to go back and get him. Great-minded people do not waver until they have kept their promises, even at the cost of life. THIRD GOBLIN _The Parrot and the Thrush. Which are worse, men or women?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree to fetch the goblin. When he got there, he took the body with the goblin in it on his shoulder, and started off in silence. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him again: "O King, you must be very tired, coming and going in the night. So to amuse you I will tell another story. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Patna, the gem of the earth. And long ago a king lived there whose name was Lion-of-Victory. Fate had made him the owner of all virtues and all wealth. And he had a parrot called Jewel-of-Wisdom, that had divine intelligence and knew all the sciences, but lived as a parrot because of a curse. This king had a son called Moon, and by the advice of the parrot this prince married the daughter of the king of the Magadha country; and her name was Moonlight. Now this princess had a thrush named Moony, who was like the parrot, because she had learning and intelligence. And the parrot and the thrush lived in one cage in the palace. One day the parrot eagerly said to the thrush: "My darling, love me, and share my bed and my chair and my food and my amusements." But the thrush said: "I will have nothing to do with men. Men are bad and ungrateful." Then the parrot said: "Men are not bad. It is only women who are bad and cruel-hearted." And they quarrelled. Then the two birds wagered their freedom with each other and went to the prince to have their quarrel decided. And the prince mounted his father's judgment throne, and when he had heard the cause of the quarrel, he asked the thrush: "How are men ungrateful? Tell the truth." Then she said, "Listen, O Prince," and to prove her point she started to tell this story illustrating the faults of men. There is a famous city called Kamandaki, where a wealthy merchant lived named Fortune. And in time a son was born to him and named Treasure. Then when the father went to heaven, the young man became very unruly because of gambling and other vices. And the rascals came together, and ruined him. Association with scoundrels is the root from which springs the tree of calamity. So in no long time he lost all he had through his vices, and being ashamed of his poverty, he left his own country and went to wander in other places. And during his travels he came to a city called Sandal City, and entered the house of a merchant, seeking something to eat. When the merchant saw the youth, he asked him about his family, and finding that he was a gentleman, he entertained him. And thinking that Fate had sent the young man, he gave him his own daughter Pearl, together with some money. And when Treasure was married, he lived in his father-in-law's house. As time passed, he forgot his former miseries in the comforts of his life, and longed for the old vices, and wanted to go home. So the rascal managed to persuade his father-in-law, who had no other children, took his wife Pearl with her beautiful ornaments, and an old woman, and started for his own country. Presently he came to a wood where he said he was afraid of thieves, so he took all his wife's ornaments. Perceive, O Prince, how cruel and hard are the ungrateful hearts of those who indulge in gambling and other vices. And the scoundrel was ready, just for money, to kill his good wife. He threw her and the old woman into a pit. Then the rascal went away and the old woman perished there. But Pearl, with the little life she had left, managed to get out by clinging to the grass and bushes, and weeping bitterly, and bleeding, she asked the way step by step, and painfully reached her father's house by the way she had come. And her mother and father were surprised and asked her: "Why did you come back so soon, and in this condition?" And that good wife said: "On the road we were robbed, and my husband was forcibly carried off. And the old woman fell into a pit and died, but I escaped. And a kind-hearted traveller pulled me from the pit." Then her father and mother were saddened, but they comforted her, and Pearl stayed there, true to her husband. Then in time Treasure lost all his money in gambling, and he reflected: "I will get more money from the house of my father-in-law. I will go there and tell my father-in-law that his daughter is well and is at my house." So he went again to his father-in-law. And as he went, his ever-faithful wife saw him afar off. She ran and fell at the rascal's feet and told him all the story that she had invented for her parents. For the heart of a faithful wife does not change even when she learns that her husband is a rogue. Then that rascal went without fear into the house of his father-in-law and bowed low before his feet. And his father-in-law rejoiced when he saw him and made a great feast with his relatives, for he said: "My son is delivered alive from the robbers. Heaven be praised!" Then Treasure enjoyed the wealth of his father-in-law and lived with his wife Pearl. Now one night this worst of scoundrels did what I ought not to repeat, but I will tell it, or my story would be spoiled. Listen, O Prince. While Pearl lay asleep trusting him, that wretch killed her in the night, stole all her jewels, and escaped to his own country. This shows how bad and ungrateful men are. When the thrush had told her story, the prince smiled and said to the parrot: "It is your turn now." Then the parrot said: "Your Majesty, women are cruel and reckless and bad. To prove it, I will tell a story. Listen." There is a city called Joyful, where lived a prince of merchants named Virtue, who owned millions of money. He had a daughter named Fortune, peerless in beauty, dearer to him than life. And she was given in marriage to a merchant's son from Copper City, whose name was Ocean. He was her equal in wealth, beauty, and family; a delight to the eyes of men. One day when her husband was away from home, she saw from the window a handsome young man. And the moment she saw him, the fickle girl went mad with love, and secretly sent a messenger to invite him in, and made love to him in secret. Thus her heart was fixed on him alone, and she was happy with him. But at last her husband came home and delighted the hearts of his parents-in-law. And when the day had been spent in feasting, Fortune was adorned by her mother, and sent to her husband's room. But she was cold toward him and pretended to sleep. And her husband went to sleep, too, for he was weary with his journey, and had been drinking wine. When everyone in the house had gone to sleep after their dinner, a thief made a hole in the wall and came into that very room. And just then the merchant's daughter got up without seeing him, and went out secretly to a meeting with her lover. And the thief was disappointed, and thought: "She has gone out into the night wearing the very jewels that I came to steal. I must see where she goes." So the thief went out and followed her. But she met a woman friend who had flowers in her hand, and went to a park not very far away. And there she saw the man whom she came to meet hanging on a tree. For the policeman had thought he was a thief, had put a rope around his neck and hanged him. And at the sight she went distracted, and lamented pitifully: "Oh, oh! I am undone," and fell on the ground and wept. Then she took her lover down from the tree and made him sit up, though he was dead, and adorned him with perfumes and jewels and flowers. But when in her love-madness she lifted his face and kissed him, a goblin who had come to live in her dead lover, bit off her nose. And she was startled and ran in pain from the spot. But then she came back to see if perhaps he was alive after all. But the goblin had gone, and she saw that he was motionless and dead. So she slowly went back home, frightened and disgraced and weeping. And the concealed thief saw it all and thought: "What has the wicked woman done? Alas! Can women be so dreadful as this? What might she not do next?" So out of curiosity the thief still followed her from afar. And the wretched woman entered the house and cried aloud, and said: "Save me from my cruel enemy, my own husband. He cut off my nose and I had done nothing." And her servants heard her cries and all arose in excitement. Her husband too awoke. Then her father came and saw that her nose was cut off, and in his anger he had his son-in-law arrested. [Illustration: The thrush suddenly became a goddess.] And the poor man did not know what to do. Even when he was being bound, he remained silent and said nothing. Then they all woke up and heard the story, but the thief who knew the whole truth, ran away. And when day came, the merchant's son was haled before the king by his father-in-law. And Fortune went there without her nose, and the king heard the whole story and condemned the merchant's son to death for mistreating his wife. So the innocent, bewildered man was led to the place of execution and the drums were beaten. Just then the thief came up and said to the king's men: "Why do you kill this man without any good reason? I know how the whole thing happened. Take me to the king, and I will tell all." So all the king's men took him to the king. And the thief told the king all the adventures of the night, and said: "Your Majesty, if you cannot trust my word, you may find the nose at this moment between the teeth of the dead body." Then the king sent men to investigate, and when he found it was true, he released the merchant's son from the punishment of death. As for wretched Fortune, he cut off her ears, too, and banished her from the country. And he took from her father, the merchant, all his money, and made the thief the chief of police. He was pleased with him. O Prince, this shows how cruel and false women are by nature. As he spoke these words, the parrot changed into a god, for the curse was fulfilled, and went to heaven like a god. And the thrush suddenly became a goddess, for her curse was at an end, and flew up likewise to heaven. So their dispute was never settled at that court. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, tell me. Are men bad, or women? If you know and do not tell, your head will fly to pieces." And when the king heard these words of the goblin on his shoulder, he said to that magic goblin: "O goblin! Here and there, now and then, there is an occasional bad man like that. But women are usually bad. We hear about many of them." Then the goblin disappeared from the king's shoulder as before. And the king tried again to catch him. FOURTH GOBLIN _King Shudraka and Hero's Family. Which of the five deserves the most honour?_ Then King Triple-victory went back under the sissoo tree and caught the goblin, who gave a horse-laugh. But the king without fear put him on his shoulder as before and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder said to him again: "O King, why do you take such pains for that wretched monk? Have you no sense about this fruitless task? Well, after all, I like your devotion. So, to amuse the weary journey, I will tell you another story. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Beautiful, and it deserves the name. There lived a king named Shudraka, of tremendous power and mighty courage. He was so used to victory that the fire of his courage was kept blazing by the wind from the fans in the hands of the wives of his vanquished foes. Under his rule the earth was rich and always good, as in the days of old. And he was fond of brave men. Now one day a Brahman named Hero came from Malwa to pay his homage to this king. He had a wife named Virtue, a son named Trusty, and a daughter named Heroic. And he had just three servants, a dagger at his hip, a sword in his hand, and a shield in his other hand. These were all the servants he had when he asked the king for five hundred gold-pieces a day as his wages. And the king thought from his appearance that he was a remarkably brave man, so he gave him the wages he asked. But out of curiosity he put spies on his track, to learn what he did with all the money. Now Hero called on the king in the morning, and at noon he took his sword and stood at the palace gate and divided his daily salary. One hundred gold-pieces he gave to his wife for food and household expenses. And with another hundred he bought clothes and perfumes and nuts and such things. And another hundred he devoted to the worship of Vishnu and Shiva, after taking the ceremonial bath. And the two hundred which were left he gave to Brahmans and the unhappy and the poor. This was the way he divided and spent the money every day. Then after he had sacrificed and eaten dinner, he stood every night alone at the palace gate with his sword and shield. All this King Shudraka learned from his spies and was greatly pleased and forbad the spies to follow him again. For he thought him a wonderful man, worthy of especial honour. Then one day a veil of clouds covered the sky and poured down rain in streams day and night, so that the highway was quite deserted. Only Hero was at his post as usual by the palace gate. And when the sun set and dreadful darkness was spread abroad and the rain fell in sheets, the king wished to test Hero's behaviour. So at night he climbed to the palace roof and cried: "Who is there at the gate?" And Hero answered: "I am here." And the king thought: "How steadfast this man Hero is, and how devoted to me! I must surely give him a greater post." And he descended from the roof and entered the palace and went to bed. The next night it rained again in sheets and the world was wrapped in the darkness of death. And again the king thought to test his behaviour, and climbing to the roof he called out toward the palace gate: "Who is there?" And when Hero said: "I am here, your Majesty," the king was greatly astonished. Just then he heard at a distance a sweet-voiced woman crying. And he thought: "Who is this who laments so piteously, as if in deep despair? In my kingdom there is no violence, no poor man and none distressed. Who can she be?" And being merciful, he called to Hero, who stood below: "Listen, Hero. A woman is weeping at some distance. Go and learn why she weeps and who she is." And Hero said "Certainly," arranged his dagger, took his sword in his hand, and started. He did not even think of the pelting hail, the flashing lightning, or the rain and darkness. And when the king saw him setting out alone in a night like that, he was filled with pity and curiosity, and descending from the palace roof, took his sword and followed all alone, without being seen. As Hero traced the sound of crying, he came to a beautiful lake outside the city, and there he saw a woman in the midst of the water, lamenting in these words: "Alas for you, brave and merciful and generous! How shall I live without you?" And Hero was amazed, and timidly asked her: "Who are you, and why do you weep?" And she replied: "O Hero, I am the Goddess of the Earth, and now my lord, this virtuous King Shudraka, is going to die in three days. How shall I find another such master? So I am distracted with grief, and I lament." When Hero heard this, he was frightened and said: "Goddess, is there any remedy for this, any way in which the king might be saved?" And the goddess answered: "There is just one remedy, my son, and it is in your hands." And Hero said: "Goddess, tell me quickly, that I may adopt it at once. What good would life be to us otherwise?" Then the goddess said: "My son, there is no other man devoted to his master as you are: so you may learn how to save him. There is a temple to the Dreadful Goddess built by that king near his palace. If you sacrifice your son to her at once, then the king will not die. He will live another hundred years. If you do it this very night, then the blessing will come, not otherwise." And Hero, the hero, replied: "Then I will go, Goddess, and do it this moment." And the Goddess of the Earth said: "Good fortune go with you," and she vanished. And the king, who had followed secretly, heard it all. So he still followed to find out how Hero would behave. But Hero went straight home, woke his wife Virtue, and told her all that the Goddess of the Earth had said. And his wife said: "My dear, if so much depends on it, wake the boy and tell him." Then Hero woke the little boy, told him all, and said: "My boy, if you are sacrificed to the Dreadful Goddess, our king will live. If not, he will die in three days." And the boy was true to his name. Without fear and without hesitation he said: "My dear father, I am a lucky boy if the king lives at the cost of my life. Besides, that would pay for the food we have eaten. Why then delay? Take me quickly and sacrifice me to the goddess. May the king's evil fate be averted by my death!" And Hero was delighted and congratulated him, saying: "Well said! You are indeed my son." [Illustration: Trusty worshipped the goddess and bravely saluted her.] So Hero's wife Virtue and his daughter Heroic went through the night with Hero and Trusty to the temple of the Dreadful Goddess. The king too followed them, disguised and unnoticed. Then the father took Trusty from his shoulder in the presence of the goddess. And Trusty worshipped the goddess, and bravely saluted her, and said: "O Goddess, by the sacrifice of my head may the king live another hundred years and rule a thornless kingdom." And as he prayed, Hero cut off his head and offered it to the Dreadful Goddess, saying: "May the king live at the cost of my son's life!" Then a voice cried from heaven: "O Hero, who else is devoted to his master as you are? You have given life and royal power to the king at the cost of your only son, and such a son." All this the king himself saw and heard. Then Hero's daughter Heroic kissed the lips of her dead brother, and was blinded with sorrow, and her heart broke, and she died. Then Hero's wife Virtue said: "My dear, we have done our duty by the king. And you see how my daughter died of grief. So now I say: What good is life to me without my children? I was a fool before. I should have given my own head to save the king. So now permit me to burn myself at once." And when she insisted, Hero said: "Do so. What happiness is there in a life of constant mourning for your children? And as for your giving your own life instead, do not grieve about that. If there had been any other way, I should of course have given my life. So wait a moment. I will build you a funeral pile out of these logs." So he built the pile and lighted it. And Virtue fell at her husband's feet, then worshipped the Dreadful Goddess, and prayed: "O Goddess, may I have the same husband in another life, and may this same King Shudraka be saved at the cost of my son's life." And she died in the blazing fire. Then Hero thought: "I have done my duty by the king, as the heavenly voice admitted. And I have paid for the king's food which I have eaten. So now why should I want to live alone? It is not right for a man like me to go on living at the expense of all the family which I ought to support. Why should I not please the goddess by sacrificing myself?" So Hero first approached the goddess with a hymn of praise: "O Demon-slayer! Saviour! Devil-killer! Trident-holder! Joy of the wise! Protectress of the universe! Victory to thee, O best of mothers, whose feet the world adores! O fearless refuge of the pious! Kali of the dreadful ornaments! Honour and glory to thee, O kindly goddess! Be pleased to accept the sacrifice of my head in behalf of King Shudraka." Then he suddenly cut off his own head with his dagger. King Shudraka beheld this from his hiding-place, and was filled with amazement and grief and admiration. And he thought: "I have never seen or heard the like of this. That good man and his family have done a hard thing for me. In this strange world who else is so brave as that, to give his son, his family, and his life for his king? If I should not make a full return for his kindness, my kingdom would mean nothing to me, and my life would be the life of a beast. If I lost my virtue, it would all be a disgrace to me." So the king drew his sword and approached the goddess and prayed: "O Goddess, I have always been devoted to you. Now be pleased with the sacrifice of my body, and grant my prayer. Bring back to life this virtuous man Hero and his family, who gave their lives for me." But when he started to cut off his own head, there came a voice from heaven: "My son, do nothing rash. I am well pleased with your character. The Brahman Hero and his children and his wife shall come back to life." And when the voice ceased, Hero stood up alive and uninjured with his son and his daughter and his wife. Then the king hid himself again and looked on with eyes filled with tears of joy, and could not see enough of them. Now Hero, like a man awaking from a dream, gazed at his son and his wife and his daughter, and was greatly perplexed. He spoke to each by name, and asked them how they had come to life after being reduced to ashes. "Is this a fancy of mine? Or a dream? Or an illusion? Or the favour of the goddess?" And his wife and children said to him: "By the favour of the goddess we are alive." At last Hero believed it, and having worshipped the goddess, he went home happy with his children and his wife. And when he had seen his son and his wife and daughter safe at home, he went back that same night to the palace gate. And King Shudraka saw all this and went back without being seen himself, and climbed to the roof, and called: "Who is there at the gate?" And Hero replied: "Your Majesty, I, Hero, am here. At your command I followed the woman who cried. She must have been a witch, for she vanished the moment I saw her and spoke to her." When the king heard this, he was astonished beyond measure, for he had seen what really happened. And he thought: "Ah, the hearts of brave men are deep as the sea, if they do not boast after doing an unparalleled action." So the king descended from the roof, entered the palace, and passed the rest of the night there. Then when the court was held in the morning, Hero came to see the king. And as he stood there, the delighted king told all his counsellors and the others the story of the night. And all were amazed and confounded at hearing of Hero's virtues, and they praised him, crying: "Well done! Well done!" Then the king and Hero lived happily together, sharing the power equally. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he asked King Triple-victory: "O King, which of all these was the most worthy? If you know and will not tell, then the curse I told you of will be fulfilled." And the king said to the goblin: "O magic creature, King Shudraka was the most noble of them all." But the goblin said: "Why not Hero, the like of whom as a servant is not to be found in the whole world? Or why should not his wife receive the most praise, who did not waver when she saw her son killed like a beast before her eyes? Or why is not the boy Trusty the most worthy, who showed such wonderful manhood when only a little boy? Why do you say that King Shudraka was the best among them?" Then the king answered the goblin: "Not Hero. He was a gentleman born, so it was his duty to save his king at the cost of life, wife and children. And his wife was a lady, a faithful wife who only did what was right in following her husband. And Trusty was their son, and like them. For the cloth is always like the threads. But the king has a right to use his subjects' lives to save his own. So when Shudraka gave his life for them, he proved himself the best of all." When the goblin heard this, he jumped from the king's shoulder and went back to his home without being seen. And the king was not disturbed by this magic, but started back through the night to catch him. FIFTH GOBLIN _The Brave Man, the Wise Man, and the Clever Man. To which should the girl be given?_ Then King Triple-victory went back to the sissoo tree and saw the body with the goblin in it hanging there just as before. He took it down without being frightened by all its twistings and writhings, and quickly set out again. And as he walked along in silence as before, the goblin said: "O King, you are obstinate, and you are pleasing to look at. So to amuse you, I will tell another story. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Ujjain, famous throughout the world. There lived a king named Merit, who had as counsellor a Brahman named Hariswami, adorned with all noble virtues. The counsellor had a worthy wife, and a son named Devaswami was born to her, and was as good as she. And they had one daughter named Moonlight, who was worthy of her name, for she was famous for her matchless beauty and charm. When the girl had grown out of childhood, she was proud of her wonderful beauty, and she told her mother, her father, and her brother: "I will marry a brave man or a wise man or a clever man. I should die if I were married to anyone else." Now while her father was busy looking for such a husband for her, he was sent by King Merit to another king in the southern country to make a treaty for war and peace. When he had finished his business, a Brahman youth, who had heard of his daughter's beauty, came and asked him for her. And he said: "My daughter will not marry anyone unless he is a clever man or a wise man or a brave man. Which of these are you? Tell me." And the Brahman said: "I am a clever man." "Show me," said the father, and the clever man made a flying chariot by his skill. Then he took Hariswami in this magic chariot, and carried him to the sky. And he took the delighted father to the camp of the king of the southern country where he had been on business. Then Hariswami appointed the marriage for the seventh day. At this time another Brahman youth in Ujjain came to the girl's brother and asked him for her. And when he was told that she would marry only a wise man or a clever man or a brave man, he said he was a brave man. Then when he had shown his skill with weapons, the brother promised his sister to the brave man. And without telling his mother, he consulted the star-gazers and appointed the marriage for the seventh day. At the same time a third Brahman youth came to the girl's mother and asked for the girl. And the mother said: "My son, a wise man or a clever man or a brave man shall marry my daughter, but no one else. Which of these are you? Tell me." And he said: "I am a wise man." So she asked him about the past and the future, and found that he was a wise man. Then she promised to give him her daughter on the seventh day. The next day Hariswami came home and told his wife and his son all that he had done. And she and he each told him all that she or he had done. So Hariswami was greatly perplexed, because three bridegrooms had been invited. Then the seventh day came and the three bridegrooms came to Hariswami's house. Strange to say, at that moment Moonlight disappeared. Then the wise man said: "A giant named Smoke-tail has carried her to his den in the Vindhya forest." When Hariswami heard this from the wise man, he was frightened and asked the clever man to find a remedy for the trouble. And the clever man made a chariot as before, full of all kinds of weapons, and brought Hariswami with the wise man and the brave man in a moment to the Vindhya forest. And the wise man showed them the giant's den. When the giant saw what had happened, he came out in anger, and the brave man fought with him. Then came a famous duel with strange weapons between a man and a giant for the sake of a woman, like the ancient fight between Rama and Ravana. Though the giant was a terrible fighter, the brave man presently cut off his head with an arrow shaped like a half-moon. When the giant was killed, they found Moonlight in the den and all went back to Ujjain in the clever man's chariot. [Illustration: The giant came out in anger and the brave man fought with him.] Then when the proper time for the wedding came, there arose a great dispute among the three in Hariswami's house. The wise man said: "If I had not discovered her by my wisdom, how could you have found her hiding-place? She should be given to me." The clever man said: "If I had not made a flying chariot, how could you have gone there in a moment and come back like the gods, or how could you have had a chariot-fight with him? She should be given to me." The brave man said: "If I had not killed the giant in the fight, who would have saved her in spite of all your pains? The girl should be given to me." And as they quarrelled, Hariswami stood silent, confused, and perplexed. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he said to the king: "O King, do you say to which of them she should be given. If you know and will not tell, then your head will split into a hundred pieces." Then the king broke silence and said: "She should be given to the brave man, who risked his life and killed the giant and saved the girl. The wise man and the clever man were only helpers whom Fate gave him. A star-gazer and a chariot-maker work for other people, do they not?" When the goblin heard this answer, he suddenly escaped from the king's shoulder and went back. And the king determined to get him, and went again to the sissoo tree. SIXTH GOBLIN _The Girl who transposed the Heads of her Husband and Brother. Which combination of head and body is her husband?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started in silence toward the monk. And the goblin said to him: "O King, you are wise and good, so I am pleased with you. To amuse you, therefore, I will tell you another story with a puzzle in it. Listen." * * * * * Long ago there was a king named Glory-banner in the world. His city was named Beautiful. And in this city was a splendid temple to the goddess Gauri. And to the right of the temple was a lake called Bath of Gauri. And on a certain day in each year a great crowd of people came there on a pilgrimage from all directions to bathe. One day a laundryman named White came there from another village to bathe. And the youth saw a maiden who had also come there to bathe. Her name was Lovely, and her father's name was Clean-cloth. She robbed the moon of its beauty and White of his heart. So he inquired about her name and family and went home lovesick. When he got there, he was ill and could not eat without her. And when his mother asked him, he told her what was in his heart, but did not change his habits. But she went and told her husband, whose name was Spotless. So Spotless went and saw how his son was acting, and said: "My son, why should you be downcast? Your desire is not hard to obtain. For if I ask Clean-cloth, he will surely give you his daughter. We are not inferior to him in birth, wealth, or social position. I know him and he knows me. So there is no difficulty about it." Thus Spotless comforted his son, made him eat and take care of himself, went with him the next day to Clean-cloth's house, and asked that the girl might be given to his son White. And Clean-cloth graciously promised to give her to him. Then when the time came, Clean-cloth gave White his charming daughter, a wife worthy of him. And when he was married, White went happily to his father's house with his sweet bride. Now as he lived there happily, Lovely's brother came to visit. And when they had all asked him about his health and his sister had greeted him with a kiss, and after he had rested, he said: "My father sent me to invite Lovely and White to a festival in our house." And all the relatives said it was a good plan and entertained him that day with appropriate things to drink and eat. The next morning White set out for his father-in-law's house, together with his brother-in-law and Lovely. And when he came to the city Beautiful, he saw the great temple of Gauri. And he said to Lovely and her brother: "We will see this goddess. I will go first and you two stay here." So White went in to see the goddess. He entered the temple and bowed before the goddess whose eighteen arms had killed the horrible demons, whose lotus-feet were set upon a giant that she had crushed. And when he had worshipped her, an idea suddenly came to him. "People honour this goddess with all kinds of living sacrifices. Why should I not win her favour by sacrificing myself?" And he fetched a sword from a deserted inner room, cut off his own head, and let it fall on the floor. Presently his brother-in-law entered the temple to see why he delayed so long. And when he saw his brother-in-law with his head cut off, he went mad with grief, and cut off his own head in the same way with the same sword. Then when he failed to come out, Lovely was alarmed and entered the temple. And when she saw her husband and her brother in that condition, she cried: "Alas! This is the end of me!" and fell weeping to the floor. But presently she rose, lamenting for the pair so unexpectedly dead, and thought: "What is my life good for now?" Before killing herself, she prayed to the goddess: "O Goddess! One only deity of happiness and character! Partaker of the life of Shiva! Refuge of all women-folk! Destroyer of grief! Why have you killed my husband and my brother at one fell swoop? It was not right, for I was always devoted to you. Then be my refuge when I pray to you, and hear my one pitiful prayer. I shall leave this wretched body of mine on this spot, but in every future life of mine, O Goddess, may I have the same husband and brother." Thus she prayed, praised, and worshipped the goddess, then tied a rope to an ashoka tree which grew there. [Illustration: "Do nothing rash, my daughter, leave the rope alone."] But while she was arranging the rope about her neck, a voice from heaven cried: "Do nothing rash, my daughter. Leave the rope alone. Though you are young, I am pleased with your unusual goodness. Place the two heads on the two bodies and they shall rise up again and live through my favour." So Lovely left the rope alone and joyfully went to the bodies. But in her great hurry and confusion she made a mistake. She put her husband's head on her brother's body and her brother's head on her husband's body. Then they arose, sound and well, like men awaking from a dream. And they were all delighted to hear one another's adventures, worshipped the goddess, and went on their way. Now as she walked along, Lovely noticed that she had made a mistake in their heads. And she was troubled and did not know what to do. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, when they were mingled in this way, which should be her husband? If you know and do not tell, then the curse I spoke of will be fulfilled." And the king said to the goblin: "The body with the husband's head on it is her husband. For the head is the most important member. It is by the head that we recognize people." Then the goblin slipped from the king's shoulder as before, and quickly disappeared. And the king went back, determined to catch him. SEVENTH GOBLIN _The Mutual Services of King Fierce-lion and Prince Good. Which is the more deserving?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started. And as he walked along, the goblin said: "O King, I will tell you a story to amuse your weariness. Listen." * * * * * On the shore of the Eastern Ocean is Copper City. There a king named Fierce-lion lived. He turned his back to other men's wives, but not to fighting men. He destroyed his enemies, but not other men's wealth. One day a popular prince named Good came from the south to the king's gate. He introduced himself, but did not get what he wanted from the king. And he thought: "If I am born a prince, why am I so poor? And if I am to be poor, why did God give me so many desires? For this king pays no attention to me, though I wait upon him and grow weary and faint with hunger." While he was thinking, the king went hunting. He went with many horsemen and footmen, and the prince ran along in the dress of a pilgrim with a club in his hand. And during the hunt the king chased a great boar a long distance, and so came into another forest. There he lost sight of the boar, for the trail was covered with leaves and grass. And the king was tired and lost his way in the forest. Only the pilgrim-prince thought nothing of his life, and hungry and thirsty as he was, he followed on foot the king who rode a swift horse. And when the king saw him following, he spoke lovingly: "My good man, do you perhaps know the way we came?" And the pilgrim bowed low and said: "I know, your Majesty. But first rest yourself a moment. The blazing sun, the middle jewel in the girdle of heaven's bride, is terribly hot." Then the king said eagerly: "See if there is water anywhere." And the pilgrim agreed and climbed a high tree and looked around. And he saw a river and climbed down and took the king to it. He unsaddled the horse, gave him water and grass, and let him rest. And when the king had bathed, the pilgrim took two fine mangoes from his skirt, washed them and gave them to the king. "Where did you get these?" asked the king, and the pilgrim bowed and said: "Your Majesty, I have lived on such food for ten years. While I was serving your Majesty, I had to live like a monk." And the king said: "What can I say? You deserve your name of Good." And he was filled with pity and shame, and thought: "A curse on kings, who do not know whether their servants are happy or not! And a curse on their attendants, who do not tell them this and that!" And when the pilgrim insisted, the king was prevailed on to take the two mangoes. He rested there with the pilgrim and ate the mangoes and drank water with the pilgrim, who was accustomed to eat mangoes and drink water. Then the pilgrim saddled the horse and went ahead to show the way, and at last, at the king's command, mounted behind on the horse; so the king found his soldiers and went safely home. And when he got there, he proclaimed the devotion of the pilgrim, and made him a rich man, but could not feel that he had paid his debt. So Good stayed there happily with King Fierce-lion and stopped living as a pilgrim. One day the king sent Good to Ceylon to ask for the hand of the daughter of the King of Ceylon. So he set out after sacrificing to the proper god, and entered a ship with some Brahmans chosen by the king. And when the ship had safely reached the middle of the ocean, there suddenly arose from the waves a very large flag-pole made of gold, with a top that touched the sky. It was adorned with waving banners of various colours and was quite astonishing. At the same moment the clouds gathered, it began to rain violently, and a mighty wind blew. And the ship was driven by the storm winds and caught on the flag-pole. Then the pole began to sink, dragging the ship with it into the raging waves. And the Brahmans who were there were overcome with fear and cursed the name of their king Fierce-lion. [Illustration: Good sank into the ocean, and when he looked about he saw a wonderful city.] But Good could not endure that because of his devotion to his king. He took his sword in his hand, girt up his garment, and threw himself after the flag-pole into the sea. He had no fear of the pole which seemed a refuge from the ocean. Then as he sank, the ship was battered by the winds and waves and broke up. And all in it fell into the mouths of sharks. But Good sank into the ocean, and when he looked about he saw a wonderful city. There he entered a shrine to Gauri, tall as the heavenly mountain, with great gem-sprinkled banners on walls made of different kinds of jewels, in a golden temple blazing with jewelled pillars, with a garden that had a pool, the stairs to which were made of splendid gems. After he had bowed low and praised and worshipped the goddess there, he sat down before her in amazement, wondering if it was all a conjuror's trick. Just then the door was suddenly opened by a heavenly maiden. Her eyes were like lotuses, her face like the moon. She had a smile like a flower and a body soft as lotus-stems. And a thousand women waited upon her. She entered the shrine of the goddess and the heart of Good at the same moment. And when she had worshipped the goddess there, she went out from the shrine, but not from the heart of Good. She entered a circle of light, and Good followed her. And he saw another splendid house, that seemed like a place of meeting for all riches and all enjoyments. And he saw the girl sitting on a jewelled couch, and he approached and sat beside her. He was like a man painted in a picture, for his eyes were fastened on her face. Now a servant of the maiden saw that his body was thrilled, that he was intent upon the maiden, that he was in love. She understood his feelings and said to him: "Sir, you are our guest. Enjoy the hospitality of my mistress. Arise. Bathe. Eat." And he felt a little hope at her words and went to a pool in the garden which she showed him. He plunged into the pool, and when he rose to the surface, he found himself in the pool of King Fierce-lion in Copper City. And when he saw that he had come there so suddenly, he thought: "Oh, what does it mean? Where is that heavenly garden? What a difference between the sight of that girl which was like nectar to me, and this immediate separation from her which is like terrible poison! It was no dream. I was awake when the serving-maid deceived me and made a fool of me." He was like a madman without the girl. He wandered in the garden and mourned in a lovelorn way. He was surrounded by wind-blown flower-pollen which seemed to him the yellow flames of separation. And when the gardener saw him in this state, he went and told the king. And the king was troubled. He went himself to see Good, and asked him soothingly: "What does this mean? Tell me, my friend. Where did you go? And where did you come? And where did you stay? And what did you fall into?" Then Good told him the whole adventure. And the king thought: "Ah, it is fortunate for me that this brave man is lovelorn. For now I have a chance to pay my debt to him." So the king said to him: "My friend, give over this vain grief. I will go with you by the same road, and bring you to the heavenly maiden." So he comforted Good, and made him take a bath. The next day he transferred his royal duties to his counsellors and entered a ship with Good. Good showed the way through the sea and they saw the flag-pole with its banners rising as before in the middle of the ocean. Then Good said to the king: "Your Majesty, here is the magic flag-pole standing up. When I sink down there, you must sink too along the flag-pole." So when they came near the sinking pole, Good jumped first, and the king followed him. They sank down and came to the heavenly city. And the king was astonished, and after he had worshipped the goddess, he sat down with Good. Then the girl, like Beauty personified, came out of the circle of light with her friends. "There she is, the lovely creature," said Good, and the king thought: "He is quite right to love her." But when she saw the king looking like a god, she wondered who the strange and wonderful man might be, and entered the shrine to worship the goddess. But the king took Good and went into the garden to show how little he cared about her. A moment later the girl came from the shrine; she had been praying for a good husband. And she said to a girl friend: "My friend, I wonder where I could see the man who was here. Where is the great man? You girls must hunt for him and ask him to be good enough to come and accept our hospitality. For he is a wonderful man, and we must be polite to him." So the girl found him in the garden and gave him her mistress' message very respectfully. But the brave king spoke loftily to her: "Your words are hospitality enough. Nothing else is necessary." Now when her mistress had heard what he said, she thought he was a noble character, better than anybody else. She was attracted by the courage of the king in refusing a sort of hospitality which was almost too much to offer a mere man, and thought about the fulfilment of her prayer for a husband. So she went into the garden herself. She drew near to the king and lovingly begged him to accept her hospitality. But the king pointed to Good and said: "My dear girl, he told me of the goddess here, and I came to see her. And by following the flag-pole I saw the goddess and her very marvellous temple. It was only afterwards that I happened to see you." Then the girl said: "O King, you may be interested in seeing a city which is the wonder of the three worlds." And the king laughed and said: "He told me about that, too. I believe there is a pool for bathing there." And the girl said: "O King, do not say that. I am not a deceitful girl. Why should I deceive an honourable man, especially as your noble character has made me feel like a servant? Pray do not refuse me." So the king agreed and went with Good and the girl to the edge of the circle of light. There a door opened and he entered and saw another heavenly city like a second hill of heaven; for it was built of gems and gold, and the flowers and fruits of every season grew there at the same time. And the princess seated the king on a splendid throne and brought him gifts and said: "Your Majesty, I am the daughter of the great god Black-wheel. But Vishnu sent my father to heaven. And I inherited these two magic cities where one has everything he wants. There is no old age or death to trouble us here. And now you are in the place of my father to rule over the cities and over me." So she offered him herself and all she had. But the king said: "In that case you are my daughter and I give you in marriage to my brave friend Good." In the king's words she saw the fulfilment of her prayer, and being sensible and modest, she agreed. So the king married them and gave all the magic wealth to happy Good, and said: "My friend, I have paid you now for one of the two mangoes which I ate. But I remain in your debt for the second." Then he asked the princess how he could get back to his city. And she gave the king a sword called Invincible, and the magic fruit which wards off birth, old age, and death. And the king took the sword and the fruit, plunged into the pool which she showed him, and came up in his own country, feeling completely successful. But Good ruled happily over the kingdom of the princess. When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, which of these two deserves more credit for plunging into the sea?" And the king was afraid of the curse, so he gave a true answer: "Good seems to me the more deserving, for he did not know the truth beforehand, but plunged without hope into the sea, while the king knew the truth when he jumped." And as soon as the king broke silence, the goblin slipped from his shoulder as before without being seen and went to the sissoo tree. And the king tried as before to catch him. Brave men do not waver until they have finished what they have begun. EIGHTH GOBLIN _The Specialist in Food, the Specialist in Women, and the Specialist in Cotton. Which is the cleverest?_ So the king went back under the sissoo tree, caught the goblin just as before, put him on his shoulder, and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder spoke and said: "O King, listen once more to the following story to beguile your weariness." * * * * * In the Anga country there is a great region called Forest. There lived a great Brahman, pious and wealthy, whose name was Vishnuswami. To his worthy wife three sons were born, one after another. When they had grown to be young men, specialists in matters of luxury, they were sent one day by their father to find a turtle for a sacrifice which he had begun. So the brothers went to the ocean and there they found a turtle. Then the eldest said to the two younger: "One of you take this turtle for Father's sacrifice. I cannot carry a slimy thing that smells raw." But when the eldest said this, the two younger said: "Sir, if you feel disgust, why shouldn't we?" When the eldest heard this, he said: "You take the turtle, otherwise Father's sacrifice will be ruined on your account. Then you and Father too will surely go to hell." When they heard him, the two younger brothers laughed and said: "Sir, you seem to know our common duty, but not your own." Then the eldest said: "What! Are you not aware that I am a connoisseur in food? For I am a specialist in foods. How can I touch this loathsome thing?" When he heard these words, the second brother said: "But I am even more of a connoisseur. I am a specialist in women. So how can I touch it?" After this speech, the eldest said to the youngest: "Do you then, being younger than we, carry the turtle." Then the youngest frowned and said to them: "Fools! I am a great specialist in cotton." So the three brothers quarrelled, and arrogantly leaving the turtle behind them, they went to have the matter decided at Pinnacle, the capital of a king called Conqueror. When they came there, and had been announced and introduced by the door-keeper, they told their story to the king. And when the king had heard all, he said: "Stay here. I will examine you one after another." So they agreed and all stayed there. Then the king invited them in at his own dinner hour, seated them on magnificent seats, and set before them sweet dishes of six flavours, fit for a king. While all the rest ate, one of the Brahmans, the specialist in food, disgustedly shook his head and refused to eat. And when the king himself asked him why he would not eat food that was sweet and savoury, he respectfully replied: "Your Majesty, in this food there is the odour of smoke from a burning corpse. Therefore, I do not wish to eat it, however sweet it may be." Then at the king's command all the rest smelt of it and declared it the best of winter rice, and perfectly sweet. But the food-critic held his nose and would not touch it. Now when the king reflected and made a careful investigation, he learned from the commissioners that the dish was made of rice grown near a village crematory. Then he was greatly astonished and pleased, and said: "Brahman, you are certainly a judge of food. Pray take something else." After dinner the king dismissed them to their rooms, and sent for the most beautiful woman of his court. And at night he sent this lovely creature, all adorned, to the second brother, the specialist in women. She came with a servant of the king to his chamber, and when she entered, she seemed to illuminate the room. But the judge of women almost fainted, and stopping his nose with his left hand, he said to his servants: "Take her away! If not, I shall die. A goaty smell issues from her." So the servants, in distress and astonishment, conducted her to the king and told him what had happened. Then the king sent for the specialist in women, and said: "Brahman, she has anointed herself with sandal, camphor, and aloes, so that a delightful perfume pervades her neighbourhood. How could this woman have a goaty smell?" But in spite of this the specialist in women would not yield. And when the king endeavoured to learn the truth, he heard from her own lips that in her infancy she had been separated from her mother and had been brought up on goat's milk. Then the king was greatly astonished and loudly praised the critical judgment of the specialist in women. [Illustration: The brothers went to the ocean, and there they found a turtle.] Quickly he had a couch prepared for the third brother, the specialist in cotton. So the critic of cotton went to sleep on a bed with seven quilts over the frame and covered with a pure, soft coverlet. When only a half of the first watch of the night was gone, he suddenly started from the bed, shouting and writhing with pain, his hand pressed to his side. And the king's men who were stationed there saw the curly red outline of a hair deeply imprinted on his side. They went at once and informed the king, who said to them: "See whether there is anything under the quilts or not." So they went and searched under each quilt, and under the last they found one hair, which they immediately took and showed to the king. And the king summoned the specialist in cotton, and finding the mark exactly corresponding to the hair, was filled with extreme astonishment. And he spent that night wondering how the hair could sink into his body through seven quilts. Now when the king arose in the morning, he was delighted with their marvellous critical judgment and sensitiveness, so that he gave each of the three specialists a hundred thousand gold-pieces. And they were contented and stayed there, forgetting all about the turtle, and thus incurring a crime through the failure of their father's sacrifice. * * * * * When he had told this remarkable story, the goblin on the king's shoulder said: "O King, remember the curse I spoke of and declare which of these three was the cleverest." When he heard this, the wise king answered the goblin: "Without doubt I regard the specialist in cotton as the cleverest, on whose body the imprint of the hair was seen to appear visibly. The other two might possibly have found out beforehand." When the king had said this, the goblin slipped from his shoulder as before. And the king went back under the sissoo tree again to fetch him. NINTH GOBLIN _The Four Scientific Suitors. To which should the girl be given?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started. And the goblin spoke to him again: "O King, why do you go to such pains in this cemetery at night? Do you not see the home of the ghosts, full of dreadful creatures, terrible in the night, wrapped in darkness as in smoke? Why do you work so hard and grow weary for the sake of that monk? Well, to amuse the journey, listen to a puzzle which I will tell you." * * * * * In the Avanti country is a city built by the gods at the beginning of time, adorned with wonderful wealth and opportunities for enjoyment. In the earliest age it was called Lotus City, then Pleasure City, then Golden City, and now it is called Ujjain. There lived a king named Heroic. And his queen was named Lotus. One day the king went with her to the sacred Ganges river and prayed to Shiva that he might have children. And after long prayer he heard a voice from heaven, for Shiva was at last pleased with his devotion: "O King, there shall be born to you a brave son to continue your dynasty, and a daughter more beautiful than the nymphs of heaven." When he heard the heavenly voice, the king was delighted at the fulfilment of his wishes, and went back to his city with the queen. And first Queen Lotus bore a son called Brave, and then a daughter named Grace who put the god of love to shame. When the girl grew up, the king sought for a suitable husband for her, and invited all the neighbouring princes by letter, but not one of them seemed good enough for her. So the king tenderly said to his daughter: "My dear, I do not see a husband worthy of you, so I will summon all the kings hither, and you shall choose." But the princess said: "My dear father, such a choice would be very embarrassing. I would rather not. Just marry me to any good-looking young man, who understands a single science from beginning to end. I wish nothing more nor less than that." [Illustration: "I understand the cries of all beasts and birds."] Now while the king was looking for such a husband, four brave, good-looking, scientific men from the south heard of the matter and came to him. And when they had been hospitably received, each explained his own science to the king. The first said: "I am a working-man, and my name is Five-cloth. I make five splendid suits of clothes a day. One I give to some god and one to a Brahman. One I wear myself, and one I shall give to my wife when I have one. The fifth I sell, to buy food and things. This is my science. Pray give me Grace." The second said: "I am a farmer, and my name is Linguist. I understand the cries of all beasts and birds. Pray give me the princess." The third said: "I am a strong-armed soldier, and my name is Swordsman. I have no rival on earth in the science of swordsmanship. O King, pray give me your daughter." The fourth said: "O King, I am a Brahman, and my name is Life. I possess a wonderful science. For if dead creatures are brought to me, I can quickly restore them to life. Let your daughter find a husband in a man who has such heroic skill." When they had spoken, and the king had seen that they all had wonderful garments and personal beauty, he and his daughter swung in doubt. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he said to the king: "Remember the curse I mentioned, and tell me to which of them the girl should be given." And the king said to the goblin: "Sir, you are merely trying to gain time by making me break silence. There is no puzzle about that. How could a warrior's daughter be given to a working-man, a weaver? Or to a farmer, either? And as to his knowledge of the speech of beasts and birds, of what practical use is it? And what good is a Brahman who neglects his own affairs and turns magician, despising real courage? Of course she should be given to the warrior Swordsman who had some manhood with his science." When the goblin heard this, he escaped by magic from the king's shoulder, and disappeared. And the king followed him as before. Discouragement never enters the brave heart of a resolute man. TENTH GOBLIN _The Three Delicate Wives of King Virtue-banner. Which is the most delicate?_ Then the king went to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder once more, and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder said: "O King, I will tell you a strange story to relieve your weariness. Listen." * * * * * There once was a king in Ujjain, whose name was Virtue-banner. He had three princesses as wives, and loved them dearly. One of them was named Crescent, the second Star, and the third Moon. While the king lived happily with his wives, he conquered all his enemies, and was content. One day at the time of the spring festival, the king went to the garden to play with his three wives. There he looked at the flower-laden vines with black rows of bees on them; they seemed like the bow of the god of love, all ready for service. He heard the songs of nightingales in the trees; they sounded like commands of Love. And with his wives he drank wine which seemed like Love's very life-blood. Then the king playfully pulled the hair of Queen Crescent, and a lotus-petal fell from her hair into her lap. And the queen was so delicate that it wounded her, and she screamed and fainted. And the king was distracted, but when servants sprinkled her with cool water and fanned her, she gradually recovered consciousness. And the king took her to the palace and waited upon his dear wife with a hundred remedies which the physicians brought. And when the king saw that she was made comfortable for the night, he went to the palace balcony with his second wife Star. Now while she slept on the king's breast, the moonbeams found their way through the window and fell upon her. And she awoke in a moment, and started up, crying "I am burned!" Then the king awoke and anxiously asked what the matter was, and he saw great blisters on her body. When he asked her about it, Queen Star said: "The moonbeams that fell on me did it." And the king was distracted when he saw how she wept and suffered. He called the servants and they made a couch of moist lotus-leaves, and dressed her wounds with damp sandal-paste. [Illustration: She gradually recovered consciousness.] At that moment the third queen, Moon, left her room to go to the king. And as she moved through the noiseless night, she clearly heard in a distant part of the palace the sound of pestles grinding grain. And she cried: "Oh, oh! It will kill me!" She wrung her hands and sat down in agony in the hall. But her servants returned and led her to her room, where she took to her bed and wept. And when the servants asked what the matter was, she tearfully showed her hands with bruises on them, like two lilies with black bees clinging to them. So they went and told the king. And he came in great distress, and asked his dear wife about it. She showed her hands and spoke, though she suffered: "My dear, when I heard the sound of the pestles, these bruises came." Then the king made them give her a cooling plaster of sandal-paste and other things. And the king thought: "One of them was wounded by a falling lotus-petal. The second was burned by the moonbeams. The third had her hands terribly bruised by the sound of pestles. I love them dearly, but alas! The very delicacy which is so great a virtue, is positively inconvenient." And he wandered about in the palace, and it seemed as if the night had three hundred hours. But in the morning the king and his skilful physicians took such measures that before long his wives were well and he was happy. * * * * * When he had told this story, the goblin asked: "O King, which of them was the most delicate?" And the king said: "The one who was bruised by the mere sound of the pestles, when nothing touched her. The other two who were wounded or blistered by actual contact with lotus-petals or moonbeams, are not equal to her." When the goblin heard this, he went back, and the king resolutely hastened to catch him again. ELEVENTH GOBLIN _The King who won a Fairy as his Wife. Why did his counsellor's heart break?_ Then the king went as before to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started back. And the goblin said once more: "O King, I like you wonderfully well because you are not discouraged. So I will tell you a delightful little story to relieve your weariness. Listen." * * * * * In the Anga country was a young king named Glory-banner, so beautiful that he seemed an incarnation of the god of love. He had conquered all his enemies by his strength of arm, and he had a counsellor named Farsight. At last the king, proud of his youth and beauty, entrusted all the power in his quiet kingdom to his counsellor, and gradually devoted himself entirely to pleasure. He spent all his time with the ladies of the court, and listened more attentively to their love-songs than to the advice of statesmen. He took greater pleasure in peeping into their windows than into the holes in his administration. But Farsight bore the whole burden of public business, and never wearied day or night. Then the people began to murmur: "The counsellor Farsight has seduced the king, and now he alone has all the kingly glory." And the counsellor said to his wife, whose name was Prudence: "My dear, the king is devoted to his pleasures, and great infamy is heaped upon me by the people. They say I have devoured the kingdom, though in fact I support the burden of it. Now popular gossip damages the greatest man. Was not Rama forced to abandon his good wife by popular clamour? So what shall I do now?" Then his clever wife Prudence showed that she deserved her name. She said: "My dear, leave the king and go on a pilgrimage. Tell him that you are an old man now, and should be permitted to travel in foreign countries for a time. Then the gossip will cease, when they see that you are unselfish. And when you are gone, the king will bear his own burdens. And thus his levity will gradually disappear. And when you come back, you can assume your office without reproach." To this advice the counsellor assented, and said to the king in the course of conversation: "Your Majesty, permit me to go on a pilgrimage for a few days. Virtue seems of supreme importance to me." But the king said: "No, no, counsellor. Is there no other kind of virtue except in pilgrimages? How about generosity and that kind of thing? Isn't it possible to prepare for heaven in your own house?" Then the counsellor said: "Your Majesty, one gets worldly prosperity from generosity and that kind of thing. But a pilgrimage gives eternal life. A prudent man should attend to it while he has strength. The chance may be lost, for no one can be sure of his health." But the king was still arguing against it when the door-keeper came in and said: "Your Majesty, the glorious sun is diving beneath the pool of heaven. Arise. The hour for your bath is slipping away." And the king went immediately to bathe. The counsellor went home, still determined on his pilgrimage. He would not let his wife go with him, but started secretly. Not even his servants knew. He wandered alone through many countries to many holy places, and finally came to the Odra country. There he saw a city near the ocean, where he entered a temple to Shiva and sat down in the court. There he sat, hot and dusty from long travel, when he was seen by a merchant named Treasure who had come to worship the god. The merchant gathered from his dress and appearance that he was a high-born Brahman, and invited him home, and entertained him with food, bathing, and the like. When the counsellor was rested, the merchant asked him: "Who are you? Whence do you come? And where are you going?" And the other replied: "I am a Brahman named Farsight. I came here on a pilgrimage from the Anga country." Then the merchant Treasure said to him: "I am preparing for a trading voyage to Golden Island. Do you stay in my house. And when I come back, and you are wearied from your pilgrimage, rest here for a time before going home." But Farsight said: "I do not want to stay here. I would rather go with you." And the good merchant agreed. And the counsellor slept in the first bed he had lain in for many nights. The next day he went to the seashore with the merchant, and entered the ship loaded with the merchant's goods. He sailed along, admiring the wonders and terrors of the sea, till at last he reached Golden Island. There he stayed for a time until the merchant had finished his buying and selling. Now on the way back, he saw a magic tree suddenly rising from the ocean. It had beautiful branches, boughs of gold, fruits of jewels, and splendid blossoms. And sitting on a jewelled couch in the branches was a lovely maiden of heavenly beauty. And while the counsellor wondered what it all meant, the maiden took her lute in her hand, and began to sing: Whatever seed of fate is sown, The fruit appears--'tis strange! Whatever deed a man has done, Not God himself can change. And when she had made her meaning clear, the heavenly maiden straightway sank with the magic tree and the couch. And Farsight thought: "What a wonderful thing I have seen to-day! What a strange place the ocean is for the appearance of a tree with a fairy in it! And if this is a usual occurrence at sea, why do not other goddesses arise?" The pilot and other sailors saw that he was astonished, and they said: "Sir, this wonderful maiden appears here regularly, and sinks a moment after, but the sight is new to you." Then the counsellor, filled with amazement, came to the shore with Treasure, and disembarked. And when the merchant had unloaded his goods and caused his servants to rejoice, the counsellor went home with him and spent many happy days there. At last he said to Treasure: "Merchant, I have rested happily for a long time in your house. Now I wish to go to my own country. Peace be with you!" And in spite of urging from the merchant, Farsight took his leave, and started with no companion except his own courage. He went through many countries and at last reached the Anga country. And scouts who had been sent by King Glory-banner saw him before he reached the city. When the king learned of it, he went himself out of the city to meet him, for he had been terribly grieved by the separation. He drew near, embraced and greeted the counsellor and took him, all worn and dusty with the weary journey, into an inner room. [Illustration: When he saw that she was saved, the king cried "Come, come to me!"] And as soon as the counsellor was refreshed, the king said: "Counsellor, why did you leave us? How could you bring yourself to do so harsh and loveless a thing? But after all, who can understand the strange workings of stern necessity? To think that you should decide all at once to wander off on a pilgrimage! Well, tell me what countries you visited, and what new things you saw." Then the counsellor told him the whole story truthfully and in order, the journey to Golden Island and the fairy who rose singing from the sea, her wonderful beauty and the magic tree. But the king immediately fell in love so hopelessly that his kingdom and his life seemed worthless to him without her. He took the counsellor aside and said: "Counsellor, I simply must see her. Remember that I shall die if I do not. I bow to my fate. I will take the journey which you took. You must not refuse me nor accompany me. I shall go alone and in disguise. You must rule the kingdom, and not dispute my words. Swear to do it on your life." So he spoke, and would not listen to advice, but dismissed the counsellor. Then Farsight was unhappy though a great festival was made for him. How can a good counsellor be happy when his master devotes himself to a vice? The next night King Glory-banner threw the burden of government on that excellent counsellor, assumed the dress of a hermit, and left his city. And as he travelled, he saw a monk named Grass, who said when the king bowed before him as a holy man: "My son, if you sail with a merchant named Fortune, you will obtain the maiden you desire. Go on fearlessly." So the king bowed again and went on rejoicing. After crossing rivers and mountains he came to the ocean. And on the shore he met at once the merchant Fortune whom the monk had mentioned, bound for Golden Island. And when the merchant saw the king's appearance and his signet ring, he bowed low, took him on the ship, and set sail. When the ship reached the middle of the sea, the maiden suddenly arose, sitting in the branches of the magic tree. And as the king gazed eagerly at her, she sang as before to her lute: Whatever seed of fate is sown, The fruit appears--'tis strange! Whatever deed a man has done, Not God himself can change. Whatever, how, for whom, and where 'Tis fated so to be, That thing, just so, for him, and there Must happen fatally. This song she sang, hinting at what was to happen. And the king gazed at her smitten by love, and could not move. Then he cried: "O Sea, in hiding her, you deceive those who think they have your treasures. Honour and glory to you! I seek your protection. Grant me my desire!" And as the king prayed, the maiden sank with the tree. Then the king jumped after her into the sea. The good merchant Fortune thought he was lost and was ready to die of grief. But he was comforted by a voice from heaven which said: "Do nothing rash. There is no danger when he sinks in the sea. For he is the king Glory-banner, disguised as a hermit. He came here for the sake of the maiden; she was his wife in a former life. And he will win her and return to his kingdom in the Anga country." So the merchant sailed on to complete his business. But King Glory-banner sank in the sea, and all at once he saw a heavenly city. He looked in amazement at the balconies with their splendid jewelled pillars, their walls bright with gold, and the network of pearls in their windows. And he saw gardens with pools that had stairways of various gems, and magic trees that yielded all desires. But rich as it was, the city was deserted. He entered house after house, but did not find the maiden anywhere. Then he climbed a high balcony built of gems, opened a door, and entered. And there he saw her all alone, lying on a jewelled couch, and clad in splendid garments. He eagerly raised her face to see if it was really she, and saw that it was indeed the maiden he sought. At the sight of her he had the strange feeling of the traveller in a desert in summer at the sight of a river. And she opened her eyes, saw that he was handsome and loveable, and left her couch in confusion. But she welcomed him and with downcast eyes that seemed like full-blown lotuses she did honour to his feet. Then she slowly spoke: "Who are you, sir? How did you come to this inaccessible under-world? And what is this hermit garb? For I see that you are a king. Oh, sir, if you would do me a kindness, tell me this." And the king answered her: "Beautiful maiden, I am King Glory-banner of the Anga country, and I heard from a reliable person that you were to be seen on the sea. To see you I assumed this garb, left my kingdom, and followed you hither. Oh, tell me who you are." Then she said to him with bashful love: "Sir, there is a king of the fairies named Moonshine. I am his daughter, and my name is Moonlight. Now my father has left me alone in this city. I do not know where he went with the rest of the people, or why. Therefore, as my home is lonely, I rise through the ocean, sit on a magic tree, and sing about fate." Then the king remembered the words of the monk, and urged her with such gentle, tender words that she confessed her love and agreed to marry him. But she made a condition: "My dear, on four set days in each month you must let me go somewhere unhindered and unseen. There is a reason." And the king agreed, married her, and lived in heavenly happiness with her. While he was living in heavenly bliss, Moonlight said to him one day: "My dear, you must wait here. I am going somewhere on an errand. For this is one of the set days. While you stay here, sweetheart, you must not go into that crystal room, nor plunge into this pool. If you do, you will find yourself at that very moment in the world again." So she said good-bye and left the city. But the king took his sword and followed, to learn her secret. And he saw a giant approaching with a great black cave of a mouth that yawned like the pit. The giant fell down and howled horribly, then took Moonlight into his mouth and swallowed her. And the king's anger blazed forth. He took his great sword, black as a snake that has sloughed its skin, ran up wrathfully, and cut off the giant's head. He was blinded by his madness, he did not know what to do, he was afflicted by the loss of his darling. But Moonlight split open the stomach of the giant, and came out alive and unhurt, like the brilliant, spotless moon coming out from a black cloud. When he saw that she was saved, the king cried: "Come, come to me!" and ran forward and embraced her. And he asked her: "What does it mean, dearest? Is this a dream, or an illusion?" And the fairy answered: "My dear, listen to me. It is not a dream, not an illusion. My father, the king of the fairies, laid this curse upon me. My father had many sons, but he loved me so that he could not eat without me. And I used to come to this deserted spot twice a month to worship Shiva. "One day I came here and it happened that I spent the whole day in worship. That day my father waited for me and would not eat or drink anything, though he was hungry and angry with me. At night I stood before him with downcast eyes, for I had done wrong. And he forgot his love and cursed me--so strong is fate. 'Because you have despised me and left me hungry a whole day, a giant named Terror-of-Fate will swallow you four times a month when you leave the city. And each time you will split him open and come out. And you shall not remember the curse afterwards, nor the pain of being swallowed alive. And you must live here alone.' "But when I begged him, he thought awhile and softened the curse. 'When Glory-banner, King of the Angas, shall become your husband, and shall see you swallowed by the giant, and shall kill the giant, then the curse shall end, and you shall remember all your magic arts.' Then he left me here, and went with his people to the Nishadha mountain. But I stayed here because of the curse. And now the curse is ended, and I remember everything. So now I shall go to the Nishadha mountain to see my father. Of course now I remember how to fly. And you are at liberty to stay here, or to go back to your own kingdom." Then the king was sad, and he begged her thus: "My beautiful wife, do not go for seven days. Be as kind as you are beautiful. Let me be happy with you in the garden, and forget my longings. Then you may go to your father, and I will go home." So he persuaded her, and was happy with her for six days in the garden. And the lilies in the ponds looked like longing eyes, and the ripples like hands raised to detain them, and the cries of swans and cranes seemed to say: "Do not leave us and go away." On the seventh day the king cleverly led his wife to the pool from which one could get back to the world. There he threw his arms about her and plunged into the pool, and came up with her in the pool in the garden of his own palace. The gardeners saw that the king had come back with a wife, and they joyfully ran and told the counsellor Farsight. He came and fell at the king's feet, and then led the king and the fairy into the palace. And the counsellor and the people thought: "Wonderful! The king has won the fairy whom others could see only for a moment like the lightning in the sky. Whatever is written in one's fate, that comes true, however impossible it may be." But when Moonlight saw that the king was in his own country, and the seven days were over, she thought she would fly away like other fairies. But she could not remember how. Then she became very sad, like a woman who has been robbed. And the king said: "Why are you so sad, my dear? Tell me." And the fairy said: "The curse is over. Yet because I have been bound so long in the fetters of your love, I have lost my magic arts. I cannot fly." Then the king thought: "The fairy is really mine," and he was happy and made a great feast. When the counsellor Farsight saw this, he went home, and lay down on his bed, and his heart broke, and he died. Then the king governed the kingdom himself, and lived for a long time in heavenly happiness with Moonlight. * * * * * When he had told this story, the goblin said: "O King, when the king was so happy, why should the counsellor's heart break? Was it from grief because he did not win the fairy himself? Or from sorrow because the king came back, and he could no longer act as king? If you know and will not tell me, then you will lose your virtue, and your head will go flying into a hundred pieces." And the king said to the goblin: "O magic creature, neither of these reasons would be possible for a high-minded counsellor. But he thought: 'The king used to neglect his duties for the sake of ordinary women. What will happen now, when he loves a fairy? In spite of all my efforts, a terrible misfortune has happened.' I think that was why his heart broke." Then the magic goblin went back to his tree in a moment. And the king was still determined to catch him, and went once more to the sissoo tree. TWELFTH GOBLIN _The Brahman who died because Poison from a Snake in the Claws of a Hawk fell into a Dish of Food given him by a Charitable Woman. Who is to blame for his death?_ Then the king went back under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started as before. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him again: "O King, listen to a very condensed story." * * * * * There is a city called Benares. In it lived a Brahman named Devaswami, whom the king honoured. He was very rich, and he had a son named Hariswami. This son had a wonderful wife, and her name was Beautiful. No doubt the Creator put together in her the priceless elements of charm and loveliness after his practice in making the nymphs of heaven. One night Hariswami was sleeping on a balcony cooled by the rays of the moon. And a fairy prince named Love-speed was flying through the air, and as he passed he saw Beautiful asleep beside her husband. He took her, still asleep, and carried her off through the air. Presently Hariswami awoke, and not seeing the mistress of his life, he rose in anxiety. And he wondered: "Oh, where has my wife gone? Is she angry with me? Or is she playing hide-and-seek with me, to see how I will take it?" So he roamed anxiously all over the balcony during the rest of the night. But he did not find her, though he searched as far as the garden. Then he was overcome by his sorrow and sobbed convulsively. "Oh, Beautiful, my darling! Fair as the moon! White as the moonlight! Was the night jealous of your beauty; did she carry you away? Your loveliness shamed the moon who refreshed me with beams cool as sandal; but now that you are gone, the same beams torment me like blazing coals, like poisoned arrows!" And as Hariswami lamented thus, the night came to an end, but his anguish did not end. The pleasant sun scattered the darkness, but could not scatter the blind darkness of Hariswami's madness. His pitiful lamentations increased a hundredfold, when the nightly cries of the birds ended. His relatives tried to comfort him, but he could not pluck up courage while his loved one was lost. He went here and there, sobbing out: "Here she stood. And here she bathed. And here she adorned herself. And here she played." His relatives and friends gave him good advice. "She is not dead," they said. "Why should you make way with yourself? You will surely find her. Pluck up courage and hunt for her. Nothing is impossible to the brave and determined man." And when they urged him, Hariswami after some days plucked up heart. He thought: "I will give all my fortune to the Brahmans, and then wander to holy places. Thus I will wear away my sins, and when my sins are gone, perhaps I shall find my darling in my wanderings." So he arose and bathed. On the next day he provided food and drink, and made a great feast for the Brahmans, and gave them all he had except his piety. Then he started to wander to holy places, hoping to find his wife. As he wandered, the summer came on him like a lion, the blazing sun its mouth, and the sunbeams its mane. And the hot wind blew, made hotter yet by the sighs of travellers separated from their wives. And the yellow mud dried and cracked, as if the lakes were broken-hearted at the loss of their lotuses. And the trees, filled with chirping birds, seemed to lament the absence of the spring, and their withering leaves seemed like lips that grow dry in the heat. At this time Hariswami was distressed by the heat and the loss of his wife, by hunger, thirst, and weariness. And as he sought for food, he came to a village. There he saw many Brahmans eating in the house of a Brahman named Lotus-belly, and he leaned against the doorpost, speechless and motionless. Then the good wife of that pious Brahman pitied him, and she thought: "Hunger is a heavy burden. It makes anyone light. Look at this hungry man standing with bowed head at the door. He looks like a pious man who has come from a far country, and he is tired. Therefore he is a proper person for me to feed." [Illustration: The summer came on him like a lion.] So the good woman took in her hands a dish filled with excellent rice, melted butter, and candied sugar, and courteously gave it to him. And she said: "Go to the edge of our pond, and eat it." He thanked her, took the dish, went a little way, and set it down under a fig-tree on the edge of the pond. Then he washed his hands and feet in the pond, rinsed his mouth, and joyfully drew near to eat the good food. At that moment a hawk settled on the tree, carrying a black snake in his beak and claws. And the snake died in the grasp of the hawk, and his mouth opened, and a stream of poison came out. This poison fell into the dish of food. But Hariswami did not see it. He came up hungry, and ate it all. And immediately he felt the terrible effects of the poison. He stammered out: "Oh, when fate goes wrong, everything goes wrong. Even this rice and the milk and the melted butter and the candied sugar is poison to me." And he staggered up to the Brahman's wife and said: "Oh, Brahman's wife, I have been poisoned by the food you gave me. Bring a poison-doctor at once. Otherwise you will be the murderer of a Brahman." And the good woman was terribly agitated. But while she was running about to find a poison-doctor, Hariswami turned up his eyes and died. Thus, though she was not to blame, though she was really charitable, the poor wife was reproached by the angry Brahman who thought she had murdered her guest. She was falsely accused for a really good action. So she was dejected and went on a pilgrimage. * * * * * When he had told this story, the goblin said: "O King, who murdered the Brahman? the snake, or the hawk, or the woman who gave him the food, or her husband? This was discussed in the presence of the god of death, but they could not decide. Therefore, O King, do you say. Who killed the Brahman? Remember the curse, if you know and do not tell the truth." Then the king broke silence and said: "Who did the murder? The snake cannot be blamed, because he was being eaten by his enemy and could not help himself. The hawk was hungry and saw nothing. He was not to blame. And how can you blame either or both of the charitable people who gave food to a guest who arrived unexpectedly? They were quite virtuous, and cannot be blamed. I should say that the dead man himself was to blame, for he dared to accuse one of the others." When the goblin heard this, he jumped from the king's shoulder and escaped to the sissoo tree. And the king ran after him again, determined to catch him. THIRTEENTH GOBLIN _The Girl who showed Great Devotion to the Thief. Did he weep or laugh?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him: "O King, I will tell you another story. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Ayodhya, which was once the capital of Rama the exterminator of giants. In this city lived a strong-armed king named Hero-banner who protected the world as a wall protects a city. During his reign a great merchant named Jewel lived in the city. His wife was named Pleasing, and a daughter named Pearl was given to her prayers. As the girl grew up in her father's house, her natural virtues grew too: beauty, charm, and modesty. And thus she became a young woman. Now in her young womanhood she was asked in marriage not only by great merchants, but even by kings. But she was prudent and did not like men. She would not have loved a god if he had been her husband. She was ready to die at merely hearing talk of her marriage. So her father was silent on the subject, though his tender love for her made him sad. And the story was known everywhere in Ayodhya. At this time all the citizens were being plundered by thieves, and they petitioned King Hero-banner in these words: "O King, we are plundered every night by thieves, and cannot catch them. Your Majesty must decide what to do." So the king stationed night-watchmen in hiding about the city, to search out the thieves. When the watchmen failed to catch the thieves for all their searching, the king himself took his sword, and wandered about alone at night. And he saw a man creeping along a wall with noiseless steps, often casting a fearful glance behind him. The king concluded that this was the thief who all alone robbed the city, and went up to him. And the thief asked him who he was. The king replied: "I am a thief." Then the thief said joyfully: "Good! You are my friend. Come to my house. I will treat you like a friend." So the king agreed and went with the thief to a house hidden in a grove and guarded by a wall, full of delightful and beautiful things, and bright with shining gems. There the thief offered the king a seat, and went into an inner room. At that moment a serving-maid came into the room and said to the king: "Your Majesty, why have you come into the jaws of death? This wonderful thief has gone out, intending to do you a mischief. He is certainly treacherous. Go away quickly." So the king quickly went away, returned to the city, and drew up a company of soldiers. With these soldiers he went and surrounded the house where the serving-maid had been. When the thief saw that the house was surrounded, he knew that he was betrayed, and came out to fight and die like a man. He showed more than human valour. He cut off the trunks of elephants, the legs of horses, and the heads of men; and he was all alone, with only his sword and shield. When the king saw that his army was destroyed, he ran forward himself. The king was a scientific swordsman, so with a turn of his wrist he sent the sword and the dagger flying from the thief's hand. Then he threw away his own sword, wrestled with the thief, threw him, and took him alive. The next morning the thief was led to the place of execution to be impaled, and the drums were beaten. And Pearl, the merchant's daughter, saw him from her balcony. All bloody and dusty as he was, she went mad with love, found her father, and said to him: "Father, I am going to marry that thief who is being led to execution. You must save him from the king. Otherwise I shall die with him." But her father said: "What do you mean, my daughter? That thief stole everything the citizens had, and the king's men are going to kill him. How can I save him from the king? Besides, what nonsense are you talking?" But the more he scolded, the more determined she became. And as he loved his daughter, he went to the king and offered all he had for the release of the thief. [Illustration: With a turn of the wrist he sent the dagger flying from the chief's hand.] But the king would not be tempted by millions. He would not release the thief who stole everything, whom he had captured at the risk of his life. So the father returned home sadly. And the girl, not heeding the arguments of her relatives, took a bath, entered a litter, and went to the death-scene of the rogue, to die with him. Her parents and her relatives followed her, weeping. At that moment the executioners impaled the thief. As his life ebbed away, he saw the girl and the people with her, and learned her story. Then the tears rolled down his cheeks, but he died with a smile on his lips. The faithful girl took the thief's body from the stake, and mounted the pyre to burn herself. But the blessed god Shiva was staying invisibly in the cemetery, and at that moment he spoke from the sky: "O faithful wife, I am pleased with your constancy to the husband of your choice. Choose whatever boon you will from me." The girl worshipped the gracious god and chose her boon: "O blessed one, my father has no son. May he have a hundred. Otherwise his childless life would end when I am gone." And the god spoke again from the sky: "O faithful wife, your father shall have a hundred sons. But choose another boon. A woman faithful as you are deserves more than the little thing you asked." Then she said: "O god, if I have won your favour, may this my husband live and always be a good man." The invisible Shiva spoke from the sky: "So be it. Your husband shall be made alive and well. He shall be a good man, and King Hero-banner shall be pleased with him." Then the thief arose at once, alive and well. And the merchant Jewel was overjoyed and astonished. He took Pearl and the thief, his son-in-law, went home with his rejoicing relatives, and made a feast great as his own delight, in honour of the sons he was to have. And the king was pleased when he learned the story, and in recognition of the stupendous courage of the thief, he appointed him general at once. The thief reformed, married the merchant's daughter, and lived happily with her, devoted to virtue. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he reminded the king of the curse, and said: "O king, when the thief on the stake saw the merchant's daughter approaching with her father, did he weep or laugh? Tell me." And the king answered: "He thought: 'I can make no return to this merchant for his unselfish friendship.' Therefore he wept from grief. And he also thought: 'Why does this girl reject kings and fall in love with a thief like me? How strange women are!' Therefore he laughed from astonishment." When the goblin heard this, he immediately slipped from the king's shoulder and escaped to his home. But the king was not discouraged. He followed him to the sissoo tree. FOURTEENTH GOBLIN _The Man who changed into a Woman at Will. Was his wife his or the other man's?_ So the king went back as before under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started toward the monk. And as he walked along, the goblin told the king a story. * * * * * There was a city called Shivapur in Nepal. Long ago a king named Glory-banner lived there, and he deserved the name. He laid the burden of government on his counsellor named Ocean-of-Wisdom, and devoted himself to a life of pleasure with his wife Moonbright. In course of time a daughter named Moonlight was born to them, pleasing as the moonlight to the eyes of men. When she grew up, she went one day in spring with her servants to a festival in the garden. There she was seen by a Brahman youth named Master-mind, the son of Rich, who had come there to the festival. When he saw her plucking flowers with one arm uplifted, he went mad with love. His heart was taken captive by the gay maiden, and he was no longer master of his mind. He thought: "Is she the goddess of love, plucking the spring flowers in person? Or is she a forest goddess, come here to worship the spring-time?" Then the princess saw him, like a new god of love incarnate. The moment her eyes fell on him, she fell in love, forgetting her flowers and even her own limbs. While they looked at each other, lost in love like people in a picture, a great wail of anguish arose. They lifted their heads to learn what the matter was, and just then an elephant that had broken his chain, maddened by the scent of another mad elephant, came by, crushing the people in his path. He had thrown off his driver and the ankus hung from him as he ran. And everyone fled in terror. But the youth Master-mind ran up in a hurry and took the princess in his arms. And with a mixture of fear and love and modesty she half embraced him as he carried her far out of the elephant's path. Then her people gradually gathered, and she went to the palace, looking at the youth, and burning over the flame of love. [Illustration: An elephant came by, crushing the people in his path.] And the youth went home from the garden, and thought: "I cannot live, I cannot exist a moment without her. I must seek help from my teacher Root, who is a thorough rogue." And so the day slowly passed. The next morning he went to his teacher Root, and found him with his constant friend Moon. He drew near, bowed, and told his desire. And the teacher laughed and promised to help him. So that wonderful rogue put a magic pill in his mouth, and thus changed himself into an old Brahman. He put a second pill into Master-mind's mouth, which changed him into a lovely girl. Then that prince of rogues took him to the king and said: "O King, this maiden has come a long distance to marry my only son. But my son has gone away, and I am going to look for him. Please keep the girl. For you are a protector to be trusted while I am looking for my son." The king was afraid of a curse, so he promised to do it. And summoning his daughter, he said: "Daughter, keep this maiden in your chamber, and let her live with you." So the girl took the Brahman youth Master-mind in his girl form to her own apartments. When Root had gone away, Master-mind in his girl form lived with his belovèd, and in a few days came to know her in an intimate and loving way, as girl friends do. Then when he saw that she was pining away and tossing on her couch, he asked the princess one evening: "My dear girl, why do you grow pale and thin day by day, grieving as if separated from your love? Tell me. Why not trust a loving, innocent girl like me? If you will not tell me, I shall starve myself." And the princess trusted him and said after a little hesitation: "My dear girl, why should I not trust you? Listen. I will tell you. One day I went to the spring festival in the garden. There I saw a handsome Brahman youth, fair as the moon but not so cold, the sight of whom kindled my love. For he adorned the garden as the spring-time does. While my eager eyes were feasting on his face, a great mad elephant that had broken his chain came charging and thundering past like a black cloud in the dry season. My servants scattered in terror, and I was helpless. But the Brahman youth took me in his arms and carried me far away. I seemed to be in a sandal bath, in a stream of nectar. I cannot tell how I felt as I touched him. Presently my servants gathered around, and I was brought here helpless. I felt as if I had fallen from heaven to earth. From that day I see in my thoughts my dear preserver beside me. I embrace him in my dreams. What need of more words? I wear away the time, thinking constantly of him and only him. The fire of separation from the lord of my life devours me day and night." When Master-mind heard these welcome words, he rejoiced and counted himself happy. And thinking the time to reveal himself had come, he took the pill from his mouth, and disclosed his natural form. And he said: "Beautiful maiden, I am he whom you bought and enslaved with a kindly glance in the garden. I was sick at the separation from you; so I took the form of a girl, and came here. So now bring heaven in a loving glance to my love-tortured heart." When the princess saw that the lord of her life was beside her, she was torn between love and wonder and modesty, and did not know what she ought to do. So they were secretly married and lived there in supreme happiness. Master-mind lived in a double form. By day he was a girl with the pill in his mouth, by night a man without the pill. After a time the brother-in-law of King Glory-banner gave his daughter with great pomp to a Brahman, the son of the counsellor Ocean-of-Wisdom. And the princess Moonlight was invited to her cousin's wedding and went to her uncle's house. And Master-mind went with her in his girl form. When the counsellor's son saw Master-mind in his lovely girl form, he was terribly smitten with the arrows of love. His heart was stolen by the sham girl, and he went home feeling lonely even with his wife. It made him crazy to think of that lovely face. When his father tried to soothe him, he woke from his madness and stammered out his insane desire. And his father was terribly distressed, knowing that all this depended on another. Then the king learned the story and came there. When the king saw his condition and perceived that he was seven parts gone in love, he said: "How can I give him the girl who was intrusted to me by the Brahman? Yet without her he will be ten parts gone in love, and will die. And if he dies, then his father, the counsellor, will die too. And if the counsellor perishes, my kingdom will perish. What shall I do?" He consulted his counsellors, and they said: "Your Majesty, the first duty of a king is the preservation of the virtue of his people. This is the fundamental principle, and is established as such among counsellors. If the counsellor is lost, the fundamental principle is lost; how then can virtue be preserved? So in this case it would be sinful to destroy the counsellor through his son. You must by all means avoid the loss of virtue which would ensue. Give the Brahman's girl to the counsellor's son. And when the Brahman returns, further measures will suggest themselves." To this the king agreed, and promised to give the sham girl to the counsellor's son. So Master-mind in his girl form was brought from the chamber of the princess, and he said to the king: "Your Majesty, I was brought here by somebody for a given purpose. If you give me to somebody else, well and good. You are the king. Right and wrong depend on you. I will marry him to-day, but only on one condition. My husband shall go away immediately after the marriage and not return until he has been on a pilgrimage for six months. Otherwise I shall bite out my tongue." So the counsellor's son was summoned, and he joyfully assented. He made the man his wife at once, put the sham wife in a guarded room and started on a pilgrimage. So Master-mind lived there in his woman form. When he realized that the counsellor's son would soon return, Master-mind fled by night. And Root heard the story, and again assumed the form of an old Brahman. He took his friend Moon, went to Glory-banner, and said respectfully: "Your Majesty, I have brought my son. Pray give me my daughter-in-law." The king was afraid of a curse, so he said: "Brahman, I do not know where your daughter-in-law has gone. Be merciful. To atone for my carelessness, I will give your son my own daughter." The prince of rogues in the form of an old Brahman angrily refused. But the king finally persuaded him, and with all due form married his daughter Moonlight to Moon, who pretended to be the old Brahman's son. Then Root went home with the bride and bridegroom. But then Master-mind came, and in the presence of Root a great dispute arose between him and Moon. Master-mind said: "Moonlight should be given to me. I married the girl first with my teacher's permission." Moon said: "Fool! What rights have you in my wife? Her father gave her to me in regular marriage." So they disputed about the princess whom one had won by fraud and the other by force. But they could reach no decision. * * * * * O King, tell me. Whose wife is she? Resolve my doubts, and remember the agreement about your head. Then the king said: "I think she is the rightful wife of Moon. For she was married to him in the regular way by her father in the presence of her relatives. Master-mind married her secretly, like a thief. And when a thief takes things from other people, it is never right." When the goblin heard this, he went back home as before. And the king stuck to his purpose. He went back again, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started from the sissoo tree. FIFTEENTH GOBLIN _The Fairy Prince Cloud-chariot and the Serpent Shell-crest. Which is the more self-sacrificing?_ So the king walked along with the goblin. And the goblin said: "O king, listen to a story the like of which was never heard." * * * * * There is a mountain called Himalaya where all gems are found. It is the king of mountains. Its proud loftiness is everywhere the theme of song. The sun himself has not seen its top. On its summit is a city called Golden City, brilliant like a heap of sunbeams left in trust by the sun. There lived a glorious fairy-king named Cloud-banner. In the garden of his palace was a wishing-tree which had come down to him from his ancestors. King Cloud-banner had worshipped the tree which was really a god, and by its grace had obtained a son named Cloud-chariot. This son remembered his former lives. He was destined to be a Buddha in a future life. He was generous, noble, merciful to all creatures, and obedient to his parents. When he grew up, the king anointed him crown prince, persuaded thereto by his counsellors as well as by the remarkable virtues of the youth. While Cloud-chariot was crown prince, his father's counsellors came to him one day and kindly said: "Crown prince, you must always honour this wishing-tree in your garden; for it yields all desires, and cannot be taken away by anybody. As long as it is favourably disposed to us, the king of the gods could not conquer us, and of course nobody else could." Then Cloud-chariot thought: "Alas! The men of old had this heavenly tree, yet they did not pluck from it any worthy fruit. They were mean-spirited. They simply begged it for some kind of wealth. And so they degraded themselves and the great tree too. But I will get from it the wish which is in my heart." With this thought the noble creature went to his father. He showed such complete deference as to delight his father, then when his father was comfortably seated, he whispered: "Father, you know yourself that in this sea of life all possessions, including our own bodies, are uncertain as a rippling wave. Especially is money fleeting, uncertain, fickle as the twilight lightning. The only thing in life which does not perish is service. This gives birth to virtue and glory, twin witnesses through all the ages to come. Father! Why do we keep such a wishing-tree for the sake of transient blessings? Our ancestors clung to it, saying: 'It is mine, it is mine.' And where are they now? What is it to them, or they to it? Then, if you bid me, I will beg this generous wishing-tree for the one fruit that counts, the fruit of service to others." His father graciously assented, and Cloud-chariot went to the wishing-tree, and said: "O god, you have fulfilled the wishes of our fathers. Fulfil now my one single wish. Remove poverty from the world. A blessing be with you. Go. I give you to the needy world." And as Cloud-chariot bowed reverently, there came a voice from the tree: "I go, since you give me up." And the wishing-tree immediately flew from heaven and rained so much money on the earth that nobody was poor. And Cloud-chariot's reputation for universal benevolence was spread abroad. But all the relatives were jealous and envious. They thought that they could easily conquer Cloud-chariot and his father without the wishing-tree, and they prepared to fight to take away his kingdom. But Cloud-chariot said to his father: "Father, how can you take your weapons and fight? What high-minded man would want a kingdom after killing his relatives just for the sake of this wretched, perishable body? Let us abandon the kingdom, and go away somewhere to devote ourselves entirely to virtue. Then we shall be blessed in both worlds. And let these wretched relatives enjoy the kingdom which they hanker after." And Cloud-banner said: "My son, I only want the kingdom for you, and if you give it up from benevolent motives, what good is it to me? I am an old man." So Cloud-chariot left the kingdom and went with his father and mother to the Malabar hills. There he built a hermit's retreat, and waited on his parents. One day, as he wandered about, he met Friend-wealth, the son of All-wealth, who lived there as king of the Siddhas. And Cloud-chariot spoke to him and made friends with him. Then one day Cloud-chariot saw a shrine to the goddess Gauri in the grove, and entered there. And he saw a slender, lovely maiden surrounded by her girl friends and playing on a lute, in honour of Gauri. The deer listened to her music and her song, motionless as if ashamed because her eyes were lovelier than their own. When Cloud-chariot saw the slender maiden, his heart was ravished. And he seemed to her to make the garden beautiful like the spring-time. A strange longing came over her. She became so helpless that her friends were alarmed. Then Cloud-chariot asked one of her friends: "My good girl, what is your friend's sweet name? What family does she adorn?" And the friend said: "This is Sandal, sister of Friend-wealth, and daughter of the king of the Siddhas." Then she earnestly asked for the name and family of Cloud-chariot from a hermit's son who had come with him. And then she spoke to Sandal with words punctuated by smiles: "My dear, why do you not show hospitality to the fairy prince? He is a guest whom all the world would be glad to honour." But the bashful princess remained silent with downcast eyes. Then the friend said: "She is bashful. Accept a hospitable greeting from me." And she gave him a garland. Cloud-chariot, far gone in love, took the garland and put it around Sandal's neck. And the loving, sidelong glance which she gave him seemed like another garland of blue lotuses. So they pledged themselves without speaking a word. Then a serving-maid came and said to the princess: "Princess, your mother remembers you. Come at once." And she went slowly, after drawing from her lover's face a passionate glance, for which Love's arrow had wedged a path. And Cloud-chariot went to the hermitage, thinking of her; while she, sick with the separation from the lord of her life, saw her mother, then tottered to her bed and fell upon it. Her eyes were blinded as if by smoke from the fire of love within her, her limbs tossed in fever, she shed tears. And though her friends anointed her with sandal and fanned her with lotus-leaves, she found no rest on her bed or in the lap of a friend or on the ground. Then when the day fled away with the passionate red twilight, and the moon drew near to kiss the face of the laughing East, she despaired of life, and her modesty would not let her send a message in spite of all her love. But somehow she lived through the night. And Cloud-chariot too was in anguish at the separation. Even in his bed he was fallen into the hand of Love. Though his passion was so recent, he had already grown pale. Though shame kept him silent, his looks told of the pangs of love. And so he passed the night. In the morning he arose and went to the shrine of Gauri. And his friend, the hermit's son, followed him and tried to comfort him. At that moment the lovelorn Sandal came out of her house alone, for she could not endure the separation, and crept to that lonely spot to end her life there. She did not see her lover behind a tree, and with eyes brimming with tears she prayed to the goddess Gauri: "O goddess, since I could not in this life have Cloud-chariot as my husband, grant that in another life at last he may be my husband." Then she tied her garment to the limb of an ashoka tree before the goddess and cried: "Alas, my lord! Alas, Cloud-chariot! They say your benevolence is universal. Why did you not save me?" But as she fastened the garment about her neck, a voice from the sky was heard in the air: "My daughter, do nothing rash. Cloud-chariot, the future king of the fairies, shall be your husband." And Cloud-chariot heard the heavenly voice, and with his friend approached his rejoicing sweetheart. The friend said to the girl: "Here is the gift which the goddess grants you." And Cloud-chariot spoke more than one tender word and loosed the garment from her neck with his own hand. Then a girl friend who had been gathering flowers there and had seen what was happening, came up joyfully and said, while Sandal's modest eyes seemed to be tracing a figure on the ground: "My dear, I congratulate you. Your wish is granted. This very day Prince Friend-wealth said in my presence to King All-wealth, your father: 'Father, the fairy prince Cloud-chariot, who deserves honour from all the world, who gave away the wishing-tree, is here, and we should treat him as an honoured guest. We could not find another bridegroom like him. So let us welcome him with the gift of Sandal who is a pearl of a girl.' And the king agreed, and your brother Friend-wealth has this moment gone to the hermitage of the noble prince. I think your marriage will soon take place. So go to your chamber, and let the noble prince go to his hermitage." So she went slowly and happily and lovingly. And Cloud-chariot hastened to the hermitage. There he greeted Friend-wealth and heard his message, and told him about his own birth and former life. Then Friend-wealth was delighted and told Cloud-chariot's parents who were also delighted. Then he went home and made his own parents happy with the news. That very day he invited Cloud-chariot to his home. And they made a great feast as was proper, and married the fairy prince and Sandal on the spot. Then Cloud-chariot was completely happy and spent some time there with his bride Sandal. One day he took a walk for pleasure about the hills with Friend-wealth, and came to the seashore. There he saw great heaps of bones, and he asked Friend-wealth: "What creatures did these heaps of bones belong to?" His brother-in-law Friend-wealth said to the merciful prince: "Listen, my friend. I will tell you the story briefly." Long ago Kadru, the mother of the serpents, made a wager with her rival Vinata, the mother of the great bird Garuda. She won the wager and enslaved her rival. Now Garuda's anger continued even after he had freed his mother from slavery. He kept going into the underworld where Kadru's offspring, the serpents, live, to eat them. Some he killed, others he crushed. Then Vasuki, king of the serpents, feared that in time all would be lost if the serpents were all to be slain thus. So he made an agreement with Garuda. He said: "O king of birds, I will send one serpent every day to the shore of the southern sea for you to eat. But you are never to enter the underworld again. What advantage would it be to you if all the serpents were slain at once?" And Garuda agreed, with an eye to his own advantage. Since that time Garuda every day eats the snake sent by Vasuki here on the seashore. And these heaps of bones from the serpents that have been eaten, have in time formed a regular mountain. When Cloud-chariot heard this story from the lips of Friend-wealth, he was deeply grieved and said: "My friend, wretched indeed is that king Vasuki who deliberately sacrifices his own subjects to their enemy. He is a coward. He has a thousand heads, yet could not find a single mouth to say: 'O Garuda, eat me first.' How could he be so mean as to beg Garuda to destroy his own race? Or how can Garuda, the heavenly bird, do such a crime? Oh, insolent madness!" So the noble Cloud-chariot made up his mind that he would use his poor body that day to save the life of one serpent at least. At that moment a door-keeper, sent by Friend-wealth's father, came to summon them home. And Cloud-chariot said: "Do you go first. I will follow." So he dismissed Friend-wealth, and remained there himself. As he walked about waiting for the thing he hoped for, he heard a pitiful sound of weeping at a distance. He went a little way and saw near a lofty rock a sorrowful, handsome youth. He was at that moment abandoned by a creature that seemed to be a policeman, and was gently persuading his old, weeping mother to return. And Cloud-chariot wished to know who it might be. So he hid himself and listened, his heart melting with pity. The old mother was bowed down by anguish, and started to lament over the youth. "Oh, Shell-crest! Oh, my virtuous son, whom I fondled, not counting the labour and the pain! Oh, my son, my only son! Where shall I see you again? Oh, my darling! When your bright face is gone, your old father will fall into black despair. How can he live then? Your tender form is hurt by the rays of the sun. How can it bear the pangs of being eaten by Garuda? Oh, my unhappy fate! Why did the Creator and the serpent-king choose my only son from the broad serpent-world, and seize upon him?" And as she lamented, the youth, her son, said: "Mother, I am unhappy enough. Why torture me yet more? Return home. For the last time I bow before you. It is time for Garuda to come." And the mother cried: "Alas, alas for me! Who will save my son?" And she gazed about wildly and wept aloud. All this Cloud-chariot, the future Buddha, saw and heard. And with deep pity he thought: "Alas! This is a serpent named Shell-crest, sent here by Vasuki for Garuda to eat. And this is his mother, following him out of her great love. He is her only son, and she is mourning in pain and bitter anguish. I should forever curse my useless life if I did not save one in such agony at the cost of a body which must perish anyway some day." So Cloud-chariot joyfully approached and said to the old mother: "Serpent-mother, I will save your son. Do not weep." But the old mother thought that this was Garuda, and she screamed: "O Garuda, eat me! Eat me!" Then Shell-crest said: "Mother, this is not Garuda. Do not be alarmed. What a difference between one who soothes our feelings like the moon, and the fearful Garuda!" And Cloud-chariot said: "Mother, I am a fairy, come to save your son. I will put on his garment and offer my own body to the hungry bird. Do you take your son and go home." But the old mother said: "No, no. You are more than a son to me. To think that such as you should feel pity for such as we!" And Cloud-chariot answered: "Mother, I beg you not to disappoint me." But when he insisted, Shell-crest said: "Noble being, you have certainly shown compassion, but I do not wish to save my body at the expense of yours. Who would save a common stone at the cost of a pearl? The world is full of creatures like me, who are merciful only to themselves. But creatures like you, who are merciful to all the world, are very rare. Oh, pious being, I could not stain the pure family of Shell-guard, as the dark spot stains the disk of the moon." [Illustration: He climbed the rock of sacrifice, eager to give his life for another.] Then Shell-crest said to his mother: "Mother, return from this desolate place. Do you not see the rock of sacrifice wet with the blood of serpents, the terrible plaything of Death? I will go for a moment to the shore and worship the god Shiva there. And I will return quickly before Garuda comes." So Shell-crest took leave of his mother and went to worship Shiva. And Cloud-chariot thought: "If Garuda should come in this interval, I should be happy." Then he saw the trees stiffening themselves against the wind made by the sweeping wings of the king of birds. "Garuda is coming," he thought, and climbed the rock of sacrifice, eager to give his life for another. And Garuda straightway pounced upon the noble creature and lifted him from the rock in his beak. While Cloud-chariot's blood flowed in streams and the gem fell from his forehead, Garuda carried him off and began to eat him on the summit of the Malabar hills. And while he was being eaten, Cloud-chariot thought: "In every future life of mine may my body do some good to somebody. I would not attain heaven and salvation without doing some good first." Then a shower of flowers fell from heaven on the fairy prince. At that moment the blood-stained gem from his forehead fell in front of his wife Sandal. She was in anguish at the sight, and as her parents-in-law were near, she tearfully showed it to them. And they were alarmed at the sight of their son's gem and wondered what it meant. Then King Cloud-banner discovered the truth by his magic arts, and he and his queen started to run with Cloud-chariot's wife Sandal. At that moment Shell-crest returned from his worship of Shiva. He saw the rock stained with blood, and cried: "Alas for me, poor sinner! Surely that noble, merciful creature has given his body to Garuda in place of mine. I must find him. Where has the great being been carried by my enemy? If I find him alive, then I shall not sink into the slough of infamy." So he followed weeping the broad trail of blood. Now Garuda noticed that Cloud-chariot was happy while being eaten, and he thought: "This must be some strange, great being, for he is happy while I am eating him. He does not die, and what remains of him is thrilled with delight. And he turns a gracious, benevolent look upon me. Surely, he is no serpent, but some great spirit. I will stop eating him and ask him." But while he reflected, Cloud-chariot said: "O king of birds, why do you stop? There is still some flesh and blood on me, and I see that you are not satisfied. Pray continue to eat." When the king of birds heard these remarkable words, he said: "You are no serpent. Tell me who you are." But Cloud-chariot continued to urge him: "Certainly I am a serpent. What does the question mean? Continue your meal. What fool would begin a thing and then stop?" At that moment Shell-crest shouted from afar: "O Garuda, do not commit a great and reckless crime. What madness is this? He is not a serpent. I am the serpent." And he ran between them and spoke again to the agitated bird: "O Garuda, what madness is this? Do you not see that I have the hood and the forked tongue? Do you not see how gentle his appearance is?" While he was speaking, Cloud-chariot's wife Sandal and his parents hurried up. And when his parents saw how he was lacerated, they wept aloud and lamented: "Alas, my son! Alas, Cloud-chariot! Alas for my merciful darling, who gave his life for others!" But when they cried: "Alas, Garuda! How could you do this thoughtless thing?" then Garuda was filled with remorse and thought: "Alas! How could I be mad enough to eat a future Buddha? This must be Cloud-chariot, who gives his life for others, whose fame is trumpeted abroad through all the world. If he is dead, I am a sinner, and ought to burn myself alive. Why does the fruit of the poison-tree of sin taste sweet?" While Garuda was thus deep in anxious thought, Cloud-chariot saw his relatives gathered, fell down, and died from the pain of his wounds. Then, while his grief-stricken parents were loudly lamenting, while Shell-crest was accusing himself, Sandal looked up to heaven and, in a voice stammering with tears, reproached the goddess Gauri who had graciously given her this husband: "Oh, Mother! You told me that the fairy prince should be my husband, but it is my fate that you spoke falsely." Then Gauri appeared in a visible form, and said: "Daughter, my words are not false." And she sprinkled Cloud-chariot with nectar from a jar. And straightway he stood up alive, unhurt and more beautiful than before. As they all bent low in worship, and Cloud-chariot rose only to bend again, the goddess said: "My son, I am pleased with your gift of your own body. With my own hand I anoint you king of the fairies." And she anointed Cloud-chariot with liquor from the jar, and then disappeared, followed by the worship of the company. And showers of heavenly blossoms fell from the sky, and the drums of the gods were joyfully beaten in heaven. Then Garuda reverently said to Cloud-chariot: "O King, I am pleased with your more than human character. For you have done a strange thing of unparalleled nobility, to be marvelled at throughout the universe, to be written upon the walls of heaven. Therefore I am at your service. Choose from me what boon you will." The noble creature said to Garuda: "O Garuda, you must repent and eat no more serpents. And you must restore to life those that you ate before, who now are nothing but bones." And Garuda said: "So be it. I will eat no serpents hereafter. And those that I have eaten shall come to life." Then all the serpents who had been eaten down to the bones, suddenly stood up. And through the grace of Gauri all the leading fairies learned immediately the wonderful deed of Cloud-chariot. So they all came and bowed at his feet and took him, freshly anointed by the very hand of Gauri, with his rejoicing relatives and friends to the Himalaya mountain. There Cloud-chariot lived happily with his father and his mother and his wife Sandal and Friend-wealth and the generous Shell-crest. And he ruled the fairy world radiant with gems. * * * * * When the goblin had told this long, strange story, he said to the king: "O King, tell me. Which was the more self-sacrificing, Cloud-chariot or Shell-crest? If you know and do not tell, then the curse I mentioned before will be fulfilled." And the king said: "There was nothing remarkable in what Cloud-chariot did. He was prepared for it by the experiences of many past lives. But Shell-crest deserves praise. He was saved from death. His enemy had another victim, and was far away. Yet he ran after and offered his body to Garuda." When the goblin heard this, he went back to the sissoo tree. And the king returned to catch him again. SIXTEENTH GOBLIN _The King who died for Love of his General's Wife; the General follows him in Death. Which is the more worthy?_ Then the king went back under the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started. And the goblin said to him: "O King, I will tell you another little story to relieve your weariness. Listen." * * * * * Long ago there was a city named Golden City on the bank of the Ganges, where a quarter of the old perfect virtue still lingers in these evil days. There was a king named Glorious, and he deserved the name. His bravery kept the world from being overflowed, like the shore of the sea. In this king's city lived a great merchant, who had a daughter named Passion. Everyone who saw her fell in love and went mad with passion. When she grew to be a young woman, the virtuous merchant went to King Glorious and said: "Your Majesty, I have a daughter, the gem of the three worlds, and she is old enough to marry. I could not give her to anyone without consulting your Majesty. For you are the master of all gems in the world. Pray marry her and thus lay me under obligations." So the king sent his own Brahmans to examine her qualities. But when the Brahmans saw her supreme loveliness, they were troubled and thought: "If the king should marry her, his kingdom would be ruined. He would think only of her, and would doubtless neglect the kingdom. Therefore we must not report her good qualities to the king." So they returned to the king and said: "Your Majesty, she has bad qualities." So the king did not marry the merchant's daughter. But he bade the merchant give his daughter to a general named Force. And she lived happily with her husband in his house. After a time the lion of spring came dancing through the forest and slew the elephant of winter. And King Glorious went forth on the back of an elephant to see the spring festival. And the drum was beaten to warn virtuous women to stay within doors. Otherwise they would have fallen in love with his beauty, and lovesickness might be expected. But when Passion heard the drum, she did not like to be left alone. She went out on the balcony, that the king might see her. She seemed like the flame of love which the spring-time was fanning with southern breezes. And the king saw her, and his whole being was shaken. He felt her beauty sinking deep in his heart like a victorious arrow of Love, and he fainted. His servants brought him back to consciousness, and he returned to the city. There he made inquiries and learned that this was Passion whom he had rejected before. So he banished from the country the Brahmans who had said that she had bad qualities, and he thought longingly of her every day. And as he thought of her, he burned over the flame of love, and wasted away day and night. And though from shame he tried to conceal it, he finally told the reason of his anguish to responsible people who asked him. They said: "Do not suffer. Why do you not seize her?" But the virtuous king would not do it. Then General Force heard the story. He came and bowed at the feet of the king and said: "Your Majesty, she is the wife of your slave, therefore she is your slave. I give her to you of my own accord. Pray take my wife. Or better yet, I will leave her here in the palace. Then you cannot be blamed if you marry her." And the general begged and insisted. But the king became angry and said: "I am a king. How can I do such a wicked thing? If I should transgress, who would be virtuous? You are devoted to me. Why do you urge me to a sin which is pleasant for the moment, but causes great sorrow in the next world? If you abandon your wedded wife, I shall not pardon you. How could a man in my position overlook such a transgression? It is better to die." Thus the king argued against it. For the truly great throw away life rather than virtue. And when all the citizens came together and urged him, he was steadfast and refused. So he slowly shrivelled away over the fever-flame of love and died. There was nothing left of King Glorious except his glory. And the general could not endure the death of his king. He burned himself alive. The actions of devoted men are blameless. * * * * * When the goblin on the king's shoulder had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, which of these two, the king and the general, was the more deserving? Remember the curse before you answer." The king said: "I think the king was the more deserving." Then the goblin said reproachfully: "O King, why was not the general better? He offered the king a wife like that, whose charms he knew from a long married life. And when his king died, he burned himself like a faithful man. But the king gave her up without really knowing her attractions." Then the king laughed and said: "True enough, but not surprising. The general was a gentleman born, and acted as he did from devotion to his superior. For servants must protect their masters even at the cost of their own lives. But kings are like mad elephants who cannot be goaded into obedience, who break the binding-chain of virtue. They are insolent, and their judgment trickles from them with the holy water of consecration. Their eyes are blinded by the hurricane of power, and they do not see the road. From the most ancient times, even the kings who conquered the world have been maddened by love and have fallen into misfortune. But this king, though he ruled the whole world, though he was maddened by the girl Passion, preferred to die rather than set his foot on the path of iniquity. He was a hero. He was the better of the two." Then the goblin escaped by magic from the king's shoulder and went back. And the king pursued him, undiscouraged. No great man stops in the middle of the hardest undertaking. [Illustration: "Shall I go into the fire or go home?"] SEVENTEENTH GOBLIN _The Youth who went through the Proper Ceremonies. Why did he fail to win the magic spell?_ Then the king went back through the night to the cemetery filled with ghouls, terrible with funeral piles that seemed like ghosts with wagging tongues of flame. But when he came to the sissoo tree, he was surprised to see a great many bodies hanging on the tree. They were all alike, and in each was a goblin twitching its limbs. And the king thought: "Ah, what does this mean? Why does that magic goblin keep wasting my time? For I do not know which of all these I ought to take. If I should not succeed in this night's endeavour, then I would burn myself alive rather than become a laughing-stock." But the goblin understood the king's purpose, and was pleased with his character. So he gave up his magic arts. Then the king saw only one goblin in one body. He took him down as before, put him on his shoulder, and started once more. And as he walked along, the goblin said: "O King, if you have no objections, I will tell you a story. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Ujjain, whose people delight in noble happiness, and feel no longing for heaven. In that city there is real darkness at night, real intelligence in poetry, real madness in elephants, real coolness in pearls, sandal, and moonlight. There lived a king named Moonshine. He had as counsellor a famous Brahman named Heaven-lord, rich in money, rich in piety, rich in learning. And the counsellor had a son named Moon-lord. This son went one day to a great resort of gamblers to play. There the dice, beautiful as the eyes of gazelles, were being thrown constantly. And Calamity seemed to be looking on, thinking: "Whom shall I embrace?" And the loud shouts of angry gamblers seemed to suggest the question: "Who is there that would not be fleeced here, were he the god of wealth himself?" This hall the youth entered, and played with dice. He staked his clothes and everything else, and the gamblers won it all. Then he wagered money he did not have, and lost that. And when they asked him to pay, he could not. So the gambling-master caught him and beat him with clubs. When he was bruised all over by the clubs, the Brahman youth became motionless like a stone, and pretended to be dead, and waited. After he had lain thus for two or three days, the heartless gambling-master said to the gamblers: "He lies like a stone. Take him somewhere and throw him into a blind well. I will pay you the money he owes." So the gamblers picked Moon-lord up and went far into the forest, looking for a well. Then one old gambler said to the others: "He is as good as dead. What is the use of throwing him into a well now? We will leave him here and go back and say we have left him in a well." And all the rest agreed, and left him there, and went back. When they were gone, Moon-lord rose and entered a deserted temple to Shiva. When he had rested a little there, he thought in great anguish: "Ah, I trusted the rascally gamblers, and they cheated me. Where shall I go now, naked and dusty as I am? What would my father say if he saw me now, or any relative, or any friend? I will stay here for the present, and at night I will go out and try to find food somehow to appease my hunger." While he reflected in weariness and nakedness, the sun grew less hot and disappeared. Then a terrible hermit named Stake came there, and he had smeared his body with ashes. When he had seen Moon-lord and asked who he was and heard his story, he said, as the youth bent low before him: "Sir, you have come to my hermitage, a guest fainting with hunger. Rise, bathe, and partake of the meal I have gained by begging." Then Moon-lord said to him: "Holy sir, I am a Brahman. How can I partake of such a meal?" Then the hermit-magician went into his hut and out of tenderness to his guest he thought of a magic spell which grants all desires. And the spell appeared in bodily form, and said: "What shall I do?" And the hermit said: "Treat that man as an honoured guest." Then Moon-lord was astonished to see a golden palace rise before him and a grove with women in it. They came to him from the palace and said: "Sir, rise, come, bathe, eat, and meet our mistress." So they led him in and gave him a chance to bathe and anoint himself and dress. Then they led him to another room. There the youth saw a woman of wonderful beauty, whom the Creator must have made to see what he could do. She rose and offered him half of her seat. And he ate heavenly food and various fruits and chewed betel leaves and sat happily with her on the couch. In the morning he awoke and saw the temple to Shiva, but the heavenly creature was gone, and the palace, and the women in it. So he went out in distress, and the hermit in his hut smiled and asked him how he had spent the night. And he said: "Holy sir, through your kindness I spent a happy night, but I shall die without that heavenly creature." Then the hermit laughed and said: "Stay here. You shall have the same happiness again to-night." So Moon-lord enjoyed those delights every night through the favour of the hermit. Finally Moon-lord came to see what a mighty spell that was. So, driven on by his fate, he respectfully begged the hermit: "Holy sir, if you really feel pity for a poor suppliant like me, teach me that spell which has such power." And when he insisted, the hermit said: "You could never win the spell. One has to stand in the water to win it. And it weaves a net of magic to bewilder the man who is repeating the words, so that he cannot win it. For as he mumbles it, he seems to lead another life, first a baby, then a boy, then a youth, then a husband, then a father. And he falsely imagines that such and such people are his friends, such and such his enemies. He forgets his real life and his desire to win the spell. But if a man mumbles it constantly for twenty-four years, and remembers his own life, and is not deceived by the network of magic, and then at the end burns himself alive, he comes out of the water, and has real magic power. It comes only to a good pupil, and if a teacher tries to teach it to a bad pupil, the teacher loses it too. Now you have the real benefit through my magic power. Why insist on more? If I lost my powers, then your happiness would go too." But Moon-lord said: "I can do anything. Do not fear, holy sir." And the hermit promised to teach him the spell. What will holy men not do out of regard to those who seek aid? So the hermit went to the river bank, and said: "My son, mumble the words of the spell. And while you are leading an imaginary life, you will at last be awakened by my magic. Then plunge into the magic fire which you will see. I will stand here on the bank while you mumble it." So he purified himself and purified Moon-lord and made him sip water, and then he taught him the magic spell. And Moon-lord bowed to his teacher on the bank, and plunged into the river. And as he mumbled the words of the spell in the water, he was bewildered by its magic. He forgot all about his past life, and went through another life. He was born in another city as the son of a Brahman. Then he grew up, was consecrated, and went to school. Then he took a wife, and after many experiences half pleasant, half painful, he found himself the father of a family. Then he lived for some years with his parents and his relatives, devoted to wife and children, and interested in many things. While he was experiencing all these labours of another life, the hermit took pity on him and repeated magic words to enlighten him. And Moon-lord was enlightened in the midst of his new life. He remembered himself and his teacher, and saw that the other life was a network of magic. So he prepared to enter the fire in order to win magic power. But older people and reliable people and his parents and his relatives tried to prevent him. In spite of them he hankered after heavenly pleasures, and went to the bank of a river where a funeral pile had been made ready. And his relatives went with him. But when he got there he saw that his old parents and his wife and his little children were weeping. And he was perplexed, and thought: "Alas! If I enter the fire, all these my own people will die. And I do not know whether my teacher's promise will come true or not. Shall I go into the fire, or go home? No, no. How could a teacher with such powers promise falsely? Indeed, I must enter the fire." And he did. And he was astonished to feel the fire as cool as snow, and lost his fear of it. Then he came out of the water of the river, and found himself on the bank. He saw his teacher standing there, and fell at his feet, and told him the whole story, ending with the blazing funeral pile. Then his teacher said: "My son, I think you must have made some mistake. Otherwise, why did the fire seem cool to you? That never happens in the winning of this magic spell." And Moon-lord said: "Holy sir, I do not remember making any mistake." Then his teacher was eager to know about it, so he tried to remember the spell himself. But it would not come to him or to his pupil. So they went away sad, having lost their magic. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, explain the matter to me. Why did they lose their magic, when everything had been done according to precept?" Then the king said: "O magic creature, I see that you are only trying to waste my time. Still, I will tell you. Magic powers do not come to a man because he does things that are hard, but because he does things with a pure heart. The Brahman youth was defective at that point. He hesitated even when his mind was enlightened. Therefore he failed to win the magic. And the teacher lost his magic because he taught it to an unworthy pupil." Then the goblin went back to his home. And the king ran to find him, never hesitating. EIGHTEENTH GOBLIN _The Boy whom his Parents, the King, and the Giant conspired to Kill. Why did he laugh at the moment of death?_ Then the king went to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder as before, and started in silence. And the goblin on his shoulder saw that he was silent and said: "O King, why are you so obstinate? Go home. Spend the night in rest. You ought not to take me to that rascally monk. But if you insist, then I will tell you another story. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Brilliant-peak. There lived a glorious king named Moon, who delighted the eyes of his subjects. Wise men said that he was brave, generous, and the very home of beauty. But in spite of all his wealth, he was very sad at heart. For he found no wife worthy of him. One day this king went with soldiers on horseback into a great wood, to hunt there and forget his sorrow. There he split open many boars with his arrows as the sun splits the black darkness, and made fierce lions into cushions for his arrows, and slew mountainous monsters with his terrible darts. As he hunted, he spurred his horse and beat him terribly. And the horse was so hurt by the spur and the whip that he could not tell rough from smooth. He dashed off quicker than the wind, and in a moment carried the king into another forest a hundred miles away. There the king lost his way, and as he wandered about wearily, he saw a great lake. He stopped there, unsaddled his horse, let him bathe and drink, and found him some grass in the shade of the trees. Then he bathed and drank himself, and when he had rested, he looked all about him. And he saw a hermit's daughter of marvellous beauty under an ashoka tree with another girl. She had no ornaments but flowers. She was charming even in a dress made of bark. She was particularly attractive because of her thick masses of hair arranged in a girlish way. [Illustration: The giant laughed aloud, spit fire in his wrath, and showed his dreadful fangs.] And the king fell in love with her and thought: "Who is she? Is she a goddess come to bathe in these waters? Or Gauri, separated from her husband Shiva, leading a hard life to win him again? Or the lovely moon, taking a human form, and trying to be attractive in the daytime? I will go to her and find out." So he drew near to her. And when she saw him coming, she was astonished at his beauty and dropped her hands, which had been weaving a garland of flowers. And she thought: "Who can he be in this forest? Some fairy perhaps. Blessèd are my eyes this day." So she rose, modestly looking another way, and started to go away, though her limbs failed her. Then the king approached and said: "Beautiful maiden, I have come a long distance, and you never saw me before. I ask only to look at you, and you should welcome me. Is this hermit manners, to run away?" Then her clever friend made the king sit down and treated him as an honoured guest. And the king respectfully asked her: "My good girl, what happy family does your friend adorn? What are the syllables of her name, which must be a delight to the ear? Or why at her age does she torture a body as delicate as a flower with a hermit's life in a lonely wood?" And the friend answered: "Your Majesty, she is the daughter of the hermit Kanva and the heavenly nymph Menaka. She grew up here in the hermitage, and her name is Lotus-bloom. With her father's permission she came here to the lake to bathe. And her father's hermitage is not far from here." Then the king was delighted. He mounted his horse and rode to the hermitage of holy Kanva, to ask for the girl. And he entered the hermitage in modest garb, leaving his horse outside. Then he was surrounded by hermits with hoary crowns and bark garments like the trees, and saw the sage Kanva radiant and cool like the moon. And he drew near and fell at his feet. And the wise hermit greeted him and let him rest, then said: "My son Moon, I will tell you something to your advantage. Listen. I know what fear of death there is in mortal creatures. Why then do you uselessly kill the wild beasts? Warriors were made by the Creator to protect the timid. Therefore protect your subjects in righteousness, and root out evil. As Happiness flees before you, strive to overtake her with all your means, elephants and horses and things. Enjoy your kingship. Be generous. Become glorious. Abandon this vice of hunting, this sport of Death. For slayer and slain are equally deceived. Why spend your time in such an evil pursuit?" The sensible king was pleased and said: "Holy sir, I am instructed. And great is my gratitude for this instruction. From now on I hunt no more. Let the wild animals live without fear." Then the hermit said: "I am pleased with your protection of the animals. Choose any boon you will." Then the quick-witted king said: "Holy sir, if you are kindly disposed, give me your daughter Lotus-bloom." So the hermit gave him his daughter, the child of the nymph, who then came up after her bath. So they were married, and the king wore cheerful garments, and Lotus-bloom was adorned by the hermits' wives. And the weeping hermits accompanied them in procession to the edge of the hermitage. Then the king took his wife Lotus-bloom, mounted his horse, and started for his city. At last the sun, seeing the king tired with his long journeying, sank wearily behind the western mountain. And fawn-eyed night appeared, clad in the garment of darkness, like a woman going to meet her lover. And the king saw an ashvattha tree on the shore of a pond in a spot covered with grass and twigs, and he decided to spend the night there. So he dismounted, fed and watered his horse, brought water from the pond, and rested with his belovèd. And they passed the night there. In the morning he arose, performed his devotions, and prepared to set out with his wife to rejoin his soldiers. Then, like a cloud black as soot with tawny lightning-hair, there appeared a great giant. He wore a chaplet of human entrails, a cord of human hair, he was chewing the head of a man, and drinking blood from a skull. The giant laughed aloud, spit fire in his wrath, and showed his dreadful fangs. And he scolded the king and said: "Scoundrel! I am a giant named Flame-face. This tree is my home; even the gods do not dare to trespass here. But you and your wife have trespassed and enjoyed yourselves. Now swallow your own impudence, you rascal! You are lovesick, so I will split open your heart and eat it, and I will drink your blood." The king was frightened when he saw that the giant was invincible, and his wife was trembling, so he said respectfully: "I trespassed ignorantly. Forgive me. I am your guest, seeking protection in your hermitage. And I will give you a human sacrifice, so that you will be satisfied. Be merciful then and forget your anger." Then the giant forgot his anger, and thought: "Very well. Why not?" And he said: "O King, I want a noble, intelligent Brahman boy seven years old, who shall give himself up of his own accord for your sake. And when he is killed, his mother must hold his hands tightly to the ground, and his father must hold his feet, and you must cut off his head with your own sword. If you do this within seven days, then I will forgive the insult you have offered me. If not, I will kill you and all your people." And the king was so frightened that he consented. Then the giant disappeared. Then King Moon mounted his horse with his wife Lotus-bloom and rode away sad at heart, seeking for his soldiers. And he thought: "Alas! I was bewildered by hunting and by love, and I find myself ruined. Where can I find such a sacrifice for the giant? Well, I will go to my own city now, and see what happens." So he continued his search, and found his soldiers and his city Brilliant-peak. There his subjects were delighted because he had found a wife worthy of him, and they made a great feast. But it was a day of despondency and dreadful agony for the king. On the next day he told his counsellors the whole story. And one counsellor named Wise said: "Your Majesty, do not despair. I will find a victim for the sacrifice. The world is a strange place." Thus the counsellor comforted the king, and made a statue of a boy out of gold. And he sent the statue about the land, with constant beating of drums and this proclamation: "We want a noble Brahman boy seven years old who will offer himself as a sacrifice to a giant with the permission of his parents. And when he is killed, his mother must hold his hands, and his father must hold his feet. And as a reward, the king will give his parents a hundred villages and this statue of gold and gems." Now there was a Brahman boy on a farm, who was only seven years old, but wonderfully brave. He was of great beauty, and even in childhood he was always thinking about others. He said to the heralds: "Gentlemen, I will give you my body. Wait a moment. I will hurry back after telling my parents." So they told the boy to go. And he went into the house, bowed before his parents, and said: "Mother! Father! I am going to give this wretched body of mine in order to win lasting happiness. Pray permit me. And I will take the king's gift, this statue of myself made of gold and gems, and give it to you together with the hundred villages. Thus I will pay my debt to you, and do some real good. And you will never be poor again, and will have plenty more sons." But his parents immediately said: "Son, what are you saying? Have you the rheumatism? Or are you possessed by a devil? If not, why do you talk nonsense? Who would sacrifice his child for money? And what child would give his body?" But the boy said: "I am not mad. Listen. My words are full of sense. The body is the seat of unnameable impurities, it is loathsome and full of pain. It perishes in no long time at best. If some good can be done with the worthless thing, that is a great advantage in this weary life, so wise men say. And what good is there except helping others? If anyone can serve his parents so easily, then how lightly should the body be esteemed!" Thus the boy, with his bold words and his firm purpose, persuaded his grieving parents. And he went and got from the king's men the golden statue and the hundred villages, and gave them to his parents. So the boy with his parents followed the king's men to the city Brilliant-peak. And the king looked upon the brave boy as a magic jewel for his own preservation, and rejoiced greatly. He adorned the boy with garlands and perfumes, put him on an elephant, and took him with his parents to the home of the giant. There the priest traced a magic circle beside the tree, and reverently lit the holy fire. Then the horrible giant Flame-face appeared, mumbling words of his own. He staggered, for he was drunk with blood, and snorted and yawned. His eyes flashed fire and his shadow made the whole world dark. And the king said respectfully: "Great being, here is the human sacrifice you asked for, and this is the seventh day since I promised it. Be merciful. Accept this sacrifice." And the giant licked his chops, and looked the boy over, who was to be the sacrifice. Then the noble boy thought: "I have done some good with this body of mine. May I never rest in heaven or in eternal salvation, but may I have many lives in which to do some good with my body." And the air was filled with the chariots of gods who rained down flowers. Then the boy was laid before the giant. His mother held his hands, and his father held his feet. When the king drew his sword and was ready to strike, the boy laughed so heartily that all of them, even the giant, forgot what they were doing, looked at the boy's face, and bowed low before him. * * * * * When the goblin had told this strange story, he asked the king: "O King, why did the boy laugh at the moment of death? I have a great curiosity about this point. If you know and will not tell, then your head will fly into a hundred pieces." And the king said: "Listen. I will tell you why the boy laughed. When danger comes to any weak creature, he cries for life to his mother and father. If they are not there, he begs protection from the king, whom heaven made his protector. Failing the king, he cries to a god. Some one of these should be his protector. But in the case of this boy everything was contrary. His parents held his hands and feet because they wanted money. And the king was ready to kill him with his own hand, to save his own life. And the giant, who is a kind of a god, had come there especially to eat him. So the boy thought: 'They are ridiculously fooled about their bodies, which are fragile, worthless, the seat of pain and suffering. The bodies of the greatest gods perish. And such creatures as these imagine that their bodies will endure!' So when he saw their strange madness, and felt that his own wishes were fulfilled, the Brahman boy laughed in astonishment and delight." Then the goblin slipped from the king's shoulder and went back to his home. And the king followed with determination. The heart of a good man is like the heart of the ocean. It cannot be shaken. NINETEENTH GOBLIN _The Man, his Wife, and her Lover, who all died for Love. Which was the most foolish?_ Then the king went back under the sissoo tree, took the goblin on his shoulder, and set out in haste. And as he walked along, the goblin on his shoulder said: "O King, I will tell you a story about a great love. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Ujjain, which seems like a divine city made by the Creator for the pious who have fallen from heaven. In this city there was a famous king named Lotus-belly. He delighted the good, and defeated the king of the demons. While he was king, a merchant named Fortune, richer than the god of wealth, lived in the city. He had one daughter named Love-cluster, who seemed the model from whom the Creator had made the nymphs of heaven. This merchant gave his daughter to a merchant named Jewel-guard from Copper City. As he was a tender father and had no other children, the merchant stayed with his daughter Love-cluster and her husband. Now Love-cluster came to hate Jewel-guard as a sick man hates a pungent, biting medicine. But the beautiful woman was dearer than life to her husband, dear as long-gathered wealth to a miser. One day Jewel-guard started for Copper City to pay a loving visit to his parents. Then the hot summer came, and the roads were blocked for travellers by the sharp arrows of the sun. The winds blew soft with the fragrance of jasmine and trumpet-flower, like sighs from the mouths of mountains separated from the spring-time. And wind-swept dust-clouds flew to the sky like messengers from the burning earth begging for clouds. And the feverish days moved slowly like wayfarers who cling to the shade of trees. And the nights clad in pale yellow moonlight became very feeble without the invigorating embrace of winter. [Illustration: A merchant named Fortune, richer than the God of Wealth.] At this time Love-cluster, anointed with cooling sandal, and clad in thin garments, stood at her lattice-window. And she saw a handsome youth with a friend whom he trusted. He seemed the god of love born anew and seeking his bride. He was the son of the king's priest, and his name was Lotus-lake. And when Lotus-lake saw the lovely girl, he expanded with delight as lotuses in a lake expand at the sight of the moon. When the two young people saw each other, their hearts embraced each other at the bidding of Love, their teacher. So Lotus-lake was smitten with love, and was led home with difficulty by his friend. And Love-cluster was equally maddened by love. First she learned from her friend his name and home, then slowly withdrew to her room. There she thought of him and became feverish with love, simply tossing on her couch, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. After two or three days spent in this way, she felt bashful and fearful, pale and thin from the separation, and hopeless of union with her lover. So, as if drawn on by the moonbeam which shone through her window, she went out at night when her people were asleep, determined to die. And she came to a pool under a tree in her garden. There stood a family image of the goddess Gauri, set up by her father. She drew near to this image, bowed before the goddess, praised her, and said: "O Goddess, since I could not have Lotus-lake as my husband in this life, may he be my husband in some other life!" And she made a noose of her garment, and tied it to the ashoka tree before the goddess. At that moment her trusty friend awoke, and not finding her in the room, hunted about and came luckily into the garden. There she saw the girl fastening the noose about her neck, and she cried, "No, no!" And running up, she cut the noose. When Love-cluster saw that it was her own friend who had run up and taken the noose away, she fell to the ground in great agony. But her friend comforted her and asked the reason of her sorrow. Then she arose and said: "Jasmine, my friend, I cannot be united with him I love. I am dependent on my father and other people. Death is the happiest thing for me." And as she spoke, she was terribly scorched by the fiery darts of love, and determined to feel no more hope, and fainted. And her friend Jasmine lamented: "Alas! Love is a hard master. It has reduced her to this condition." But she gradually brought her back to life with cool water and fans and things. She made an easy bed of lotus-leaves. She put pearls cool as snow on her heart. Then Love-cluster came to herself and slowly said to her weeping friend: "My dear, the fire within me cannot be quenched by such things as pearls. If you want to save my life, be clever enough to bring my lover to me." And the loving Jasmine said: "My dear, the night is almost over. In the morning I will bring your lover here to meet you. Be brave and go now to your room." Love-cluster was contented. She took the pearls from her neck and gave them to her friend as a present. And she said: "Let us go now. Then in the morning you must keep your promise." So she went to her room. In the morning Jasmine crept out without being seen to hunt for the house of Lotus-lake. When she got there, she found Lotus-lake under a tree in the garden. He was lying on a couch of lotus-leaves moistened with sandal, and the friend who knew his secret was fanning him with plantain-leaf fans, for he was tortured by the flames of love. And Jasmine hid, to find out whether this was lovesickness for her friend or not. Then the friend said to Lotus-lake: "My friend, comfort your heart by glancing a moment at this charming garden. Do not be so troubled." But he said to his friend: "My heart has been stolen by Love-cluster. It is no longer in my body. How can I comfort it? Love has made an empty quiver of me. So invent some plan by which I may meet the thief of my heart." Then Jasmine came out joyfully and without fear and showed herself. And she said: "Sir, Love-cluster has sent me to you, and I am the bearer of a message to you. Is it good manners to enter the heart of an innocent girl by force, steal her thoughts, and run away? It is strange, but the sweet girl is ready to give her person and her life to you, her charmer. For day and night she heaves sighs hot as the smoke from the fire of love that burns in her heart. And teardrops carry her rouge away and fall, like bees longing for the honey of her lotus-face. So, if you wish it, I will tell you what is good for both of you." And Lotus-lake said: "My good girl, the words which tell me that my love is lonely and longing, frighten me and comfort me. You are our only refuge. Devise a plan." And Jasmine answered: "This very night I will bring Love-cluster secretly to the garden. You must be outside. Then I will cleverly let you in, and so you two will be united." Thus Jasmine delighted the Brahman's son, and went away successful to please Love-cluster with the news. Then the sun and the daylight fled away, pursuing the twilight. And the East adorned her face with the moon. And the white night-blooming lotuses laughed, their faces expanding at the thought of the glory that was coming to them. At that hour the lover Lotus-lake came secretly, adorned and filled with longing, to the garden-gate of his belovèd. And Jasmine led Love-cluster secretly into the garden, for she had lived through the day somehow. Then Jasmine made her sit down under the mango trees, while she went and let Lotus-lake in. So he entered and looked upon Love-cluster as the traveller looks upon the shade of trees with thick foliage. And as he drew near, she saw him and ran to him, for love took away her modesty, and she fell on his neck. "Where would you go? I have caught you, thief of my heart!" she cried. Then excessive joy stopped her breathing, and she died. She fell on the ground like a vine broken by the wind. Strange are the mysterious ways of Love. When Lotus-lake saw that terrible fall, he cried: "Oh, what does it mean?" And he fainted and fell down. Presently he came to himself, and took his darling on his lap. He embraced her and kissed her and wept terribly. He was so borne down by the terrible burden of grief that his own heart broke. And when they were both dead, the night seemed to die away in shame and fear. In the morning the relatives heard the story from the gardeners, and came there filled with timidity and wonder and grief and madness. They did not know what to do, but stood a long time with downcast eyes. Unfaithful women disgrace a family. Presently the husband Jewel-guard came back from his father's house in Copper City, filled with love for Love-cluster. When he came to his father-in-law's house and saw the business, he was blinded by tears and went thoughtfully into the garden. There he saw his wife dead in another man's arms, and his body was scorched by the flames of grief, and he died immediately. Then the whole household shouted and screamed so that all the citizens heard the story and came there. The demi-gods themselves were filled with pity and prayed to the goddess Gauri whose image had been set up there before by Love-cluster's father: "Oh, Mother, the merchant who set up this statue was always devoted to you. Show mercy to him in his affliction." And the gracious goddess heard their prayer. She said: "All three shall live again, and shall forget their love." Then through her grace they all arose like people waking from sleep. They were alive, and their love was gone. While all the people there rejoiced at what had happened, Lotus-lake went home, bending his head in shame. And the merchant took his shamefaced daughter and her husband and went into the house and made a feast. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story on the road in the night, he said: "O King, which was the most foolish among those who died for love? If you know and do not tell, you must remember the curse I spoke of before." Then the king answered: "O magic creature, Jewel-guard was the most foolish of them. When he saw that his wife had died for love of another man, he should have been angry. Instead, he was loving, and died of grief." Then the goblin slipped from the king's shoulder and quickly set out for his home. And the king ran after him again, eager as before. TWENTIETH GOBLIN _The Four Brothers who brought a Dead Lion to Life. Which is to blame when he kills them all?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, took the goblin, put him on his shoulder, and started for the place he wished to reach. And as he walked along the road, the goblin began to talk again: "Bravo, King! You are a remarkable character. So I will tell you another story, and a strange one. Listen." * * * * * There is a city called Flower-city. There lived a king named Earth-boar. In his kingdom was a farm where a Brahman lived whose name was Vishnuswami. His wife was named Swaha. And four sons were born to them. After a time the father died, and the relatives took all the money. So the four brothers consulted together: "There is nothing for us to do here. Suppose we go somewhere." And after a long journey they came to the house of their maternal grandfather in a village called Sacrifice. The grandfather was dead, but their uncles sheltered them, and they continued their studies. But they did not amount to much, so in time their uncles became scornful in such matters as food and clothing. And they were troubled. Then the eldest took the others aside and said: "Brothers, no man can do anything anywhere on earth. Now I was wandering about discouraged, and I came to a wood. There I saw to-day a dead man whose limbs lay relaxed on the ground. And I wished for the same fate, and I thought: 'He is happy. He is free from the burden of woe.' So I made up my mind to die, and hanged myself with a rope from a tree. I lost consciousness, but before the breath of life was gone, the cord was cut and I fell to the ground. And when I came to myself, I saw a compassionate man who had happened by at that moment, and he was fanning me with his garment. And he said to me: 'My friend, you are an educated man. Tell me why you are so despondent. The righteous man finds happiness, the unrighteous man finds unhappiness because of his unrighteousness, and for no other reason. If you made up your mind to this because of unhappiness, practise righteousness instead. Why seek the pains of hell by suicide?' Thus the man comforted me and went away. And I gave up the idea of suicide and came here. You see I could not even die when fate was unwilling. Now I shall burn my body at some holy place, that I may not again feel the woes of poverty." Then the younger brothers said to him: "Sir, why is an intelligent man sad for lack of money? Do you not know that money is uncertain as an autumn cloud? No matter how carefully won and guarded, three things are fickle and bring sorrow at the last: evil friendships, a flirt, and money. The resolute and sensible man should by all means acquire that virtue which brings him Happiness a captive in bonds." So the eldest brother straightway plucked up heart, and said: "What virtue is it which we should acquire?" Then they all reflected, and took counsel together: "We will wander over the earth, and each of us will learn some one science." So they appointed a place for meeting, and the four brothers started in four different directions. After a time they all gathered at the meeting-place, and asked one another what they had learned. The first said: "I have learned a science by which I can take the skeleton of any animal whatever and put the proper kind of flesh on it." The second said: "I have learned a science by which I can put on the flesh-covered skeleton the proper hair and skin." The third said: "My science is this. When the skin and the flesh and the hair are there, I can put in the eyes and the other organs of sense." The fourth said: "When the organs are there, I can give the creature the breath of life." So all four went into the forest to find a skeleton and test their various sciences. As fate would have it, they found the skeleton of a lion there. And they took that, not knowing the difference. [Illustration: The lion arose and killed his four creators.] The first fitted out the skeleton with appropriate flesh. The second added the skin and hair. The third provided all the organs. The fourth gave life to the thing, and it was a lion. The lion arose with terrible massive mane, dreadful teeth in his mouth, and curving claws in his paws. He arose and killed his four creators, then ran into the forest. Thus the Brahman youths all perished because they did wrong to make a lion. Who could expect a good result from creating a bad-tempered creature? Thus, if fate opposes, even a virtue that has been painfully acquired does not profit, but rather injures. But the tree of manhood, with the water of intelligence poured into its watering-trench of conduct about the vigorous root of fate, generally bears good fruit. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king who was walking through the night: "O King, remember the curse I mentioned, and tell me which of them was most to blame for creating the lion?" And the king reflected in silence: "He wants to escape again. Very well. I will catch him again." So he said: "The one who gave life to the lion, is the sinner. The others did not know what kind of an animal it was, and just showed their skill in creating flesh and skin and hair and organs. They were not to blame because they were ignorant. But the one who saw that it was a lion and gave it life just to exhibit his skill, he was guilty of the murder of Brahmans." Then the goblin went home. And the king followed him again, and came to the sissoo tree. TWENTY-FIRST GOBLIN _The Old Hermit who exchanged his Body for that of the Dead Boy. Why did he weep and dance?_ Then the king went back to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder in spite of all its writhings, and set out in silence. And the goblin on his shoulder said: "O king of kings, you are terribly obstinate about this impossible task. So to amuse the weary journey I will tell a story. Listen." * * * * * In the Kalinga country was a city called Beautiful, where people lived as happily as in heaven. There ruled a famous king named Pradyumna. And in a part of this city was a region set apart by the king, where many Brahmans lived. Among them was a learned, wealthy, pious, hospitable Brahman named Sacrifice. In his old age a single son was born to him and his worthy wife. The boy grew under the fostering care of his father, and showed signs of excellence. He was called Devasoma by his father, and his parents were entirely devoted to him. In his sixteenth year the boy attracted everyone by his learning and modesty. Then he suddenly fell ill of a fever and died. When his father and mother saw that he was really dead, they embraced the body and wept aloud. But their love for him would not permit them to burn the body. So the old relatives gathered, and said to the father: "Brahman, life is imaginary like a city in the sky. Do you not know this, you who know things above and things below? The kings who enjoyed themselves like gods upon the earth, they have gone one by one to cemeteries filled with processions of weeping ghosts. Their bodies were burned by the flesh-devouring fire and eaten by jackals. No one could prevent it in their case. How much less in the case of others? Therefore, as you are a wise man, tell us what you mean by embracing this dead body?" So at last the relatives persuaded him to let his son go, and they put the body in a litter and brought it to the cemetery with weeping and wailing. At that time a hermit was fulfilling a hard vow, and was living in a hut in the cemetery. He was very thin because of his age and his hard life. His veins stuck out like cords to bind him, as if afraid that he would break in pieces. His hair was tawny like the lightning. This hermit heard the wailing of the people, and turned to his pupil who begged food for him. Now this pupil was proud and arrogant. And the hermit said: "My boy, what is this wailing we hear? Go outside and find out, then return and tell me why this unheard-of commotion is taking place." But the pupil said: "I will not go. Go yourself. My hour for begging is passing by." Then the teacher said: "Fool! Glutton! What do you mean by your hour for begging? Only one half of the first watch of the day is gone." Then the bad pupil became angry and said: "Decrepit old man! I am not your pupil. And you are not my teacher. I am going away. Do your begging yourself." And he angrily threw down his staff and bowl before the old man, and got up, and went away. Then the hermit laughed. He left his hut and went to the place where the dead Brahman boy had been brought to be burned. He saw how the people mourned over such youthful freshness dead, and felt his own age and weakness. So he made up his mind to exchange his body for the other by magic. He went aside and wept at the top of his voice. Then he danced with all the proper gestures. After that, full of the longing to enjoy the happiness of youth, he left his own withered body by magic and entered the body of the Brahman youth. So the Brahman youth came to life on the funeral pyre and stood up. And a cry of joy arose from all the relatives: "See! The boy is alive! He is alive!" Then the magician in the body of the Brahman boy said to the relatives: "I went to the other world, and Shiva gave me life and directed me to perform a great vow. So now I am going off to perform the vow. If I do not, my life will not last. Do you then go home, and I will come later." So he spoke to those gathered there, having made up his mind what to do, and sent them home full of joy and grief. He went himself and threw his old body into a pit, and then went off, a young man. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he said to King Triple-victory, who was walking through the night: "O King, when the magician entered another person's body, why did he weep before doing it, or why did he dance? I have a great curiosity about this point." And the king was afraid of the curse, so he broke silence and said: "Listen, goblin. He thought: 'I am leaving to-day this body with which I won magic powers, the body which my parents petted when I was a child.' So first he wept from grief, and from love of his body which he found it hard to leave. Then he thought: 'With a new body I can learn more magic.' So he danced from joy at getting youth." When the goblin heard this answer, he returned quickly to the sissoo tree. And the king pursued him, undismayed. TWENTY-SECOND GOBLIN _The Father and Son who married Daughter and Mother. What relation were their children?_ The king paid no attention to the terrible witch of night, clad in black darkness, with the funeral piles as flaming eyes. He bravely went through the dreadful cemetery to the sissoo tree, put the goblin on his shoulder, and started as before. And as he walked along, the goblin said to him: "O King, I am very tired with these comings and goings, but you do not seem to be. So I will tell you my Great Puzzle. Listen." * * * * * Long ago there was a king named Virtue in the southern country. He was the best of righteous men, and was born in a great family. His wife came from the Malwa country, and her name was Moonlight. And they had one daughter, whom they named Beauty. When this daughter was grown up, the relatives conspired to wreck the kingdom and drive King Virtue out. But he escaped by night, took a great many jewels, and fled from his kingdom with his beautiful wife and his daughter. He started for his father-in-law's house in Malwa, and came with his wife and daughter to the Vindhya forest. There they spent a weary night. In the morning the blessèd sun arose in the east, stretching out his rays like hands to warn the king not to go into the forest where robbers lived. The king went on foot with his trembling daughter and his wife, and their feet were wounded by the thorny grass. So they came to a fortified village. It was like the city of Death; for there were no righteous people there, and it was filled with robber-men who killed and robbed other people. As the king drew near with his fine garments and his gems, many robbers saw him from a distance, and ran out armed to rob him. When the king saw them coming, he said to his wife and daughter: "These are wild men. They must not touch you. Go into the thick woods." So the queen with her daughter Beauty fled in fear into the middle of the forest. But the brave king took his sword and shield and killed many of the wild men as they charged down, raining arrows on him. Then their leader gave an order, and all the robbers fell on the king at once, wounded every limb in his body, and killed him; for he was all alone. So the robbers took the jewels and went away. Now the queen had hidden in a thicket, and had seen her husband killed. Then she fled a long distance in fear and came with her daughter into another thick wood. The rays of the midday sun were so fierce that travellers had to sit in the shade. So Queen Moonlight and Princess Beauty sat down under an ashoka tree near a lotus-pond in terrible weariness and fear and grief. Now a gentleman named Fierce-lion who lived near came on horseback with his son into that wood to hunt. The son's name was Strong-lion. And the father saw the footprints of the queen and the princess, and he said to his son: "My son, these footprints are clean-cut and ladylike. Let us follow them. And if we find two women, you shall marry one of them, whichever you choose." And the son Strong-lion said: "Father, the one who has the little feet in this line of footprints, seems to be the wife for me. The one with the bigger feet must be older. She is the wife for you." But Fierce-lion said: "My son, what do you mean? Your mother went to heaven before your eyes. When so good a wife is gone, how could I think of another?" But his son said: "Not so, Father. A householder's house is an empty place without a wife. Besides, you have surely heard what the poet says: 'What fool would go into a house? 'Tis a prisoner's abode, Unless a buxom wife is there, Looking down the road.' So, Father, I beg you on my life to marry the second one, whom I have chosen for you." Then Fierce-lion said "Very well," and went on slowly with his son, following the footprints. And when he came to the pond, he saw Queen Moonlight, radiant with beauty and charm. And with his son he eagerly approached her. But when she saw him, she rose in terror, fearing that he was a robber. But her sensible daughter said: "There is no reason to fear. These two men are not robbers. They are two well-dressed gentlemen, who probably came here to hunt." Still the queen swung in doubt. Then Fierce-lion dismounted and stood before her. And he said: "Beautiful lady, do not be frightened. We came here to hunt. Pluck up heart and tell me without fear who you are. Why have you come into this lonely wood? For your appearance is that of ladies who wear gems and sit on pleasant balconies. And why should feet fit to saunter in a court, press this thorny ground? It is a strange sight. For the wind-blown dust settles on your faces and robs them of beauty. It hurts us to see the fierce rays of the sun fall upon such figures. Tell us your story. For our hearts are sadly grieved to see you in such a plight. And we cannot see how you could live in a forest filled with wild beasts." Then the queen sighed, and between shame and grief she stammered out her story. And Fierce-lion saw that she had no husband to care for her. So he comforted her and soothed her with tender words, and took care of her and her daughter. His son helped the two ladies on horseback and led them to his own city, rich as the city of the god of wealth. And the queen seemed to be in another life. She was helpless and widowed and miserable. So she consented. What could she do, poor woman? Then, because the queen had smaller feet, the son Strong-lion married Queen Moonlight. And Fierce-lion, the father, married her daughter, the princess Beauty, because of the bigness of her feet. Who would break a promise that had been made solemnly? Thus, because of their inconsistent feet, the daughter became the wife of the father and the mother-in-law of her own mother. And the mother became the wife of the son and the daughter-in-law of her own daughter. And as time passed, sons and daughters were born to each pair. * * * * * When the goblin had told this story, he asked the king: "O King, when children were born to the father and daughter, and other children to the son and mother, what relation were those children to one another? If you know and do not tell, then remember the curse I spoke of before." [Illustration: He comforted her and soothed her with tender words.] When the king heard the goblin's question, he turned the thing this way and that, but could not say a word. So he went on in silence. And when the goblin saw that he could not answer the question, he laughed in his heart and thought: "This king cannot give an answer to my Great Puzzle. So he just walks on in silence. And he cannot deceive me because of the power of the curse. Well, I am pleased with his wonderful character. So I will cheat that rogue of a monk, and give the magic power he is striving after to this king." So the goblin said aloud: "O King, you are weary with your comings and goings in this dreadful cemetery in the black night, yet you seem happy, and never hesitate at all. I am astonished and pleased at your perseverance. So now you may take the dead body and go ahead. I will leave the body. And I will tell you something that will do you good, and you must do it. The monk for whom you are carrying this body, is a rogue. He will call upon me and worship me, and he will try to kill you as a sacrifice. He will say: 'Lie flat on the ground in an attitude of reverence.' O King, you must say to that rascal: 'I do not know this attitude of reverence. Show me first, and then I will do likewise.' Then when he lies on the ground to show you the attitude of reverence, cut off his head with your sword. Then you will get the kingship over the fairies which he is trying to get. Otherwise, the monk will kill you and get the magic power. That is why I have delayed you so long. Now go ahead, and win magic power." So the goblin left the body on the king's shoulder and went away. And the king reflected how the monk Patience was planning to hurt him. He took the body and joyfully went to the fig-tree. CONCLUSION So King Triple-victory came to the monk Patience with the body on his shoulder. And he saw the monk alone in the dark night, sitting under the cemetery tree and looking down the road. He had made a magic circle with yellow powdered bones in a spot smeared with blood. In it he had put a jug filled with blood and lamps with magic oil. He had kindled a fire and brought together the things he needed for worship. The monk rose to greet the king who came carrying the body, and he said: "O King, you have done me a great favour, and a hard one. This is a strange business and a strange time and place for such as you. They say truly that you are the best of kings, for you serve others without thinking of yourself. This is the very thing that makes the greatness of a great man, when he does not give a thing up, though it costs his very life." So the monk felt sure that he was quite successful, and he took the body from the king's shoulder. He bathed it and put garlands on it, and set it in the middle of the circle. Then he smeared his own body with ashes, put on a cord made of human hair, wrapped himself in dead men's clothes, and stood a moment, deep in thought. And the goblin was attracted by his thought into the body, and the monk worshipped him. First he offered liquor in a skull, then he gave him human teeth carefully cleaned, and human eyes and flesh. So he completed his worship, then he said to the king: "O King, fall flat on the ground before this master magician in an attitude of reverence, so that he may give you what you want." And the king remembered the words of the goblin. He said to the monk: "Holy sir, I do not know that attitude of reverence. Do you show me first, and afterwards I will do it in the same way." And when the monk fell on the ground to show the attitude of reverence, the king cut off his head with a sword, and cut out his heart and split it open. And he gave the head and the heart to the goblin. Then all the little gods were delighted and cried: "Well done!" And the goblin was pleased and spoke to the king from the body he was living in: "O King, this monk was trying to become king of the fairies. But you shall be that when you have been king of the whole world." And the king answered the goblin: "O magic creature, if you are pleased with me, I have nothing more to wish for. Yet I ask you to make me one promise, that these twenty-two different, charming puzzle-stories shall be known all over the world and be received with honour." And the goblin answered: "O King, so be it. And I will tell you something more. Listen. When anyone tells or hears with proper respect even a part of these puzzle-stories, he shall be immediately free from sin. And wherever these stories are told, elves and giants and witches and goblins and imps shall have no power." Then the goblin left the dead body by magic, and went where he wanted to. Then Shiva appeared there with all the little gods, and he was well pleased. When the king bowed before him, he said: "My son, you did well to kill this sham monk who tried by force to become king of the fairies. Therefore you shall establish the whole earth, and then become king of the fairies yourself. And when you have long enjoyed the delights of heaven and at last give them up of your own accord, then you shall be united with me. So receive from me this sword called Invincible. While you have it, everything you say will come true." So Shiva gave him the magic sword, received his flowery words of worship, and vanished with the gods. [Illustration] * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired. Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including obsolete and variant spellings and other inconsistencies. 
680	----	THE GOLDEN THRESHOLD BY SAROJINI NAIDU WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ARTHUR SYMONS DEDICATED TO EDMUND GOSSE WHO FIRST SHOWED ME THE WAY TO THE GOLDEN THRESHOLD London, 1896 Hyderabad, 1905 CONTENTS FOLK SONGS Palanquin-Bearers Wandering Singers Indian Weavers Coromandel Fishers The Snake-Charmer Corn-Grinders Village-Song In Praise of Henna Harvest Hymn Indian Love-Song Cradle-Song Suttee SONGS FOR MUSIC Song of a Dream Humayun to Zobeida Autumn Song Alabaster Ecstasy To my Fairy Fancies POEMS Ode to H. H. the Nizam of Hyderabad In the Forest Past and Future Life The Poet's Love-Song To the God of Pain The Song of Princess Zeb-un-nissa Indian Dancers My Dead Dream Damayante to Nala in the Hour of Exile The Queen's Rival The Poet to Death The Indian Gipsy To my Children The Pardah Nashin To Youth Nightfall in the City of Hyderabad Street Cries To India The Royal Tombs of Golconda To a Buddha seated on a Lotus INTRODUCTION It is at my persuasion that these poems are now published. The earliest of them were read to me in London in 1896, when the writer was seventeen; the later ones were sent to me from India in 1904, when she was twenty-five; and they belong, I think, almost wholly to those two periods. As they seemed to me to have an individual beauty of their own, I thought they ought to be published. The writer hesitated. "Your letter made me very proud and very sad," she wrote. "Is it possible that I have written verses that are 'filled with beauty,' and is it possible that you really think them worthy of being given to the world? You know how high my ideal of Art is; and to me my poor casual little poems seem to be less than beautiful--I mean with that final enduring beauty that I desire." And, in another letter, she writes: "I am not a poet really. I have the vision and the desire, but not the voice. If I could write just one poem full of beauty and the spirit of greatness, I should be exultantly silent for ever; but I sing just as the birds do, and my songs are as ephemeral." It is for this bird-like quality of song, it seems to me, that they are to be valued. They hint, in a sort of delicately evasive way, at a rare temperament, the temperament of a woman of the East, finding expression through a Western language and under partly Western influences. They do not express the whole of that temperament; but they express, I think, its essence; and there is an Eastern magic in them. Sarojini Chattopadhyay was born at Hyderabad on February 13, 1879. Her father, Dr. Aghorenath Chattopadhyay, is descended from the ancient family of Chattorajes of Bhramangram, who were noted throughout Eastern Bengal as patrons of Sanskrit learning, and for their practice of Yoga. He took his degree of Doctor of Science at the University of Edinburgh in 1877, and afterwards studied brilliantly at Bonn. On his return to India he founded the Nizam College at Hyderabad, and has since laboured incessantly, and at great personal sacrifice, in the cause of education. Sarojini was the eldest of a large family, all of whom were taught English at an early age. "I," she writes, "was stubborn and refused to speak it. So one day when I was nine years old my father punished me--the only time I was ever punished--by shutting me in a room alone for a whole day. I came out of it a full-blown linguist. I have never spoken any other language to him, or to my mother, who always speaks to me in Hindustani. I don't think I had any special hankering to write poetry as a little child, though I was of a very fanciful and dreamy nature. My training under my father's eye was of a sternly scientific character. He was determined that I should be a great mathematician or a scientist, but the poetic instinct, which I inherited from him and also from my mother (who wrote some lovely Bengali lyrics in her youth) proved stronger. One day, when I was eleven, I was sighing over a sum in algebra: it WOULDN'T come right; but instead a whole poem came to me suddenly. I wrote it down. "From that day my 'poetic career' began. At thirteen I wrote a long poem a la 'Lady of the Lake'--1300 lines in six days. At thirteen I wrote a drama of 2000 lines, a full-fledged passionate thing that I began on the spur of the moment without forethought, just to spite my doctor who said I was very ill and must not touch a book. My health broke down permanently about this time, and my regular studies being stopped I read voraciously. I suppose the greater part of my reading was done between fourteen and sixteen. I wrote a novel, I wrote fat volumes of journals; I took myself very seriously in those days." Before she was fifteen the great struggle of her life began. Dr. Govindurajulu Naidu, now her husband, is, though of an old and honourable family, not a Brahmin. The difference of caste roused an equal opposition, not only on the side of her family, but of his; and in 1895 she was sent to England, against her will, with a special scholarship from the Nizam. She remained in England, with an interval of travel in Italy, till 1898, studying first at King's College, London, then, till her health again broke down, at Girton. She returned to Hyderabad in September 1898, and in the December of that year, to the scandal of all India, broke through the bonds of caste, and married Dr. Naidu. "Do you know I have some very beautiful poems floating in the air," she wrote to me in 1904; "and if the gods are kind I shall cast my soul like a net and capture them, this year. If the gods are kind--and grant me a little measure of health. It is all I need to make my life perfect, for the very 'Spirit of Delight' that Shelley wrote of dwells in my little home; it is full of the music of birds in the garden and children in the long arched verandah." There are songs about the children in this book; they are called the Lord of Battles, the Sun of Victory, the Lotus-born, and the Jewel of Delight. "My ancestors for thousands of years," I find written in one of her letters, "have been lovers of the forest and mountain caves, great dreamers, great scholars, great ascetics. My father is a dreamer himself, a great dreamer, a great man whose life has been a magnificent failure. I suppose in the whole of India there are few men whose learning is greater than his, and I don't think there are many men more beloved. He has a great white beard and the profile of Homer, and a laugh that brings the roof down. He has wasted all his money on two great objects: to help others, and on alchemy. He holds huge courts every day in his garden of all the learned men of all religions--Rajahs and beggars and saints and downright villains all delightfully mixed up, and all treated as one. And then his alchemy! Oh dear, night and day the experiments are going on, and every man who brings a new prescription is welcome as a brother. But this alchemy is, you know, only the material counterpart of a poet's craving for Beauty, the eternal Beauty. 'The makers of gold and the makers of verse,' they are the twin creators that sway the world's secret desire for mystery; and what in my father is the genius of curiosity--the very essence of all scientific genius--in me is the desire for beauty. Do you remember Pater's phrase about Leonardo da Vinci, 'curiosity and the desire of beauty'?" It was the desire of beauty that made her a poet; her "nerves of delight" were always quivering at the contact of beauty. To those who knew her in England, all the life of the tiny figure seemed to concentrate itself in the eyes; they turned towards beauty as the sunflower turns towards the sun, opening wider and wider until one saw nothing but the eyes. She was dressed always in clinging dresses of Eastern silk, and as she was so small, and her long black hair hung straight down her back, you might have taken her for a child. She spoke little, and in a low voice, like gentle music; and she seemed, wherever she was, to be alone. Through that soul I seemed to touch and take hold upon the East. And first there was the wisdom of the East. I have never known any one who seemed to exist on such "large draughts of intellectual day" as this child of seventeen, to whom one could tell all one's personal troubles and agitations, as to a wise old woman. In the East, maturity comes early; and this child had already lived through all a woman's life. But there was something else, something hardly personal, something which belonged to a consciousness older than the Christian, which I realised, wondered at, and admired, in her passionate tranquillity of mind, before which everything mean and trivial and temporary caught fire and burnt away in smoke. Her body was never without suffering, or her heart without conflict; but neither the body's weakness nor the heart's violence could disturb that fixed contemplation, as of Buddha on his lotus-throne. And along with this wisdom, as of age or of the age of a race, there was what I can hardly call less than an agony of sensation. Pain or pleasure transported her, and the whole of pain or pleasure might be held in a flower's cup or the imagined frown of a friend. It was never found in those things which to others seemed things of importance. At the age of twelve she passed the Matriculation of the Madras University, and awoke to find herself famous throughout India. "Honestly," she said to me, "I was not pleased; such things did not appeal to me." But here, in a letter from Hyderabad, bidding one "share a March morning" with her, there is, at the mere contact of the sun, this outburst: "Come and share my exquisite March morning with me: this sumptuous blaze of gold and sapphire sky; these scarlet lilies that adorn the sunshine; the voluptuous scents of neem and champak and serisha that beat upon the languid air with their implacable sweetness; the thousand little gold and blue and silver breasted birds bursting with the shrill ecstasy of life in nesting time. All is hot and fierce and passionate, ardent and unashamed in its exulting and importunate desire for life and love. And, do you know that the scarlet lilies are woven petal by petal from my heart's blood, these little quivering birds are my soul made incarnate music, these heavy perfumes are my emotions dissolved into aerial essence, this flaming blue and gold sky is the 'very me,' that part of me that incessantly and insolently, yes, and a little deliberately, triumphs over that other part--a thing of nerves and tissues that suffers and cries out, and that must die to-morrow perhaps, or twenty years hence." Then there was her humour, which was part of her strange wisdom, and was always awake and on the watch. In all her letters, written in exquisite English prose, but with an ardent imagery and a vehement sincerity of emotion which make them, like the poems, indeed almost more directly, un-English, Oriental, there was always this intellectual, critical sense of humour, which could laugh at one's own enthusiasm as frankly as that enthusiasm had been set down. And partly the humour, like the delicate reserve of her manner, was a mask or a shelter. "I have taught myself," she writes to me from India, "to be commonplace and like everybody else superficially. Every one thinks I am so nice and cheerful, so 'brave,' all the banal things that are so comfortable to be. My mother knows me only as 'such a tranquil child, but so strong-willed.' A tranquil child!" And she writes again, with deeper significance: "I too have learnt the subtle philosophy of living from moment to moment. Yes, it is a subtle philosophy, though it appears merely an epicurean doctrine: 'Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die.' I have gone through so many yesterdays when I strove with Death that I have realised to its full the wisdom of that sentence; and it is to me not merely a figure of speech, but a literal fact. Any to-morrow I might die. It is scarcely two months since I came back from the grave: is it worth while to be anything but radiantly glad? Of all things that life or perhaps my temperament has given me I prize the gift of laughter as beyond price." Her desire, always, was to be "a wild free thing of the air like the birds, with a song in my heart." A spirit of too much fire in too frail a body, it was rarely that her desire was fully granted. But in Italy she found what she could not find in England, and from Italy her letters are radiant. "This Italy is made of gold," she writes from Florence, "the gold of dawn and daylight, the gold of the stars, and, now dancing in weird enchanting rhythms through this magic month of May, the gold of fireflies in the perfumed darkness--'aerial gold.' I long to catch the subtle music of their fairy dances and make a poem with a rhythm like the quick irregular wild flash of their sudden movements. Would it not be wonderful? One black night I stood in a garden with fireflies in my hair like darting restless stars caught in a mesh of darkness. It gave me a strange sensation, as if I were not human at all, but an elfin spirit. I wonder why these little things move me so deeply? It is because I have a most 'unbalanced intellect,' I suppose." Then, looking out on Florence, she cries, "God! how beautiful it is, and how glad I am that I am alive to-day!" And she tells me that she is drinking in the beauty like wine, "wine, golden and scented, and shining, fit for the gods; and the gods have drunk it, the dead gods of Etruria, two thousand years ago. Did I say dead? No, for the gods are immortal, and one might still find them loitering in some solitary dell on the grey hillsides of Fiesole. Have I seen them? Yes, looking with dreaming eyes, I have found them sitting under the olives, in their grave, strong, antique beauty--Etruscan gods!" In Italy she watches the faces of the monks, and at one moment longs to attain to their peace by renunciation, longs for Nirvana; "then, when one comes out again into the hot sunshine that warms one's blood, and sees the eager hurrying faces of men and women in the street, dramatic faces over which the disturbing experiences of life have passed and left their symbols, one's heart thrills up into one's throat. No, no, no, a thousand times no! how can one deliberately renounce this coloured, unquiet, fiery human life of the earth?" And, all the time, her subtle criticism is alert, and this woman of the East marvels at the women of the West, "the beautiful worldly women of the West," whom she sees walking in the Cascine, "taking the air so consciously attractive in their brilliant toilettes, in the brilliant coquetry of their manner!" She finds them "a little incomprehensible," "profound artists in all the subtle intricacies of fascination," and asks if these "incalculable frivolities and vanities and coquetries and caprices" are, to us, an essential part of their charm? And she watches them with amusement as they flutter about her, petting her as if she were a nice child, a child or a toy, not dreaming that she is saying to herself sorrowfully: "How utterly empty their lives must be of all spiritual beauty IF they are nothing more than they appear to be." She sat in our midst, and judged us, and few knew what was passing behind that face "like an awakening soul," to use one of her own epithets. Her eyes were like deep pools, and you seemed to fall through them into depths below depths. ARTHUR SYMONS. FOLK SONGS PALANQUIN BEARERS Lightly, O lightly we bear her along, She sways like a flower in the wind of our song; She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream, She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream. Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing, We bear her along like a pearl on a string. Softly, O softly we bear her along, She hangs like a star in the dew of our song; She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide, She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride. Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing, We bear her along like a pearl on a string. WANDERING SINGERS (Written to one of their Tunes) Where the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet, Through echoing forest and echoing street, With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam, All men are our kindred, the world is our home. Our lays are of cities whose lustre is shed, The laughter and beauty of women long dead; The sword of old battles, the crown of old kings, And happy and simple and sorrowful things. What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow? Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go. No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait: The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate. INDIAN WEAVERS Weavers, weaving at break of day, Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . . Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild, We weave the robes of a new-born child. Weavers, weaving at fall of night, Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . . Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green, We weave the marriage-veils of a queen. Weavers, weaving solemn and still, What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . . White as a feather and white as a cloud, We weave a dead man's funeral shroud. COROMANDEL FISHERS Rise, brothers, rise, the wakening skies pray to the morning light, The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night. Come, let us gather our nets from the shore, and set our catamarans free, To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the sons of the sea. No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea-gull's call, The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all. What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of the sea-god drives? He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our lives. Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and the scent of the mango grove, And sweet are the sands at the full o' the moon with the sound of the voices we love. But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray and the dance of the wild foam's glee: Row, brothers, row to the blue of the verge, where the low sky mates with the sea. THE SNAKE-CHARMER Whither dost thou hide from the magic of my flute-call? In what moonlight-tangled meshes of perfume, Where the clustering keovas guard the squirrel's slumber, Where the deep woods glimmer with the jasmine's bloom? I'll feed thee, O beloved, on milk and wild red honey, I'll bear thee in a basket of rushes, green and white, To a palace-bower where golden-vested maidens Thread with mellow laughter the petals of delight. Whither dost thou loiter, by what murmuring hollows, Where oleanders scatter their ambrosial fire? Come, thou subtle bride of my mellifluous wooing, Come, thou silver-breasted moonbeam of desire! CORN-GRINDERS O LITTLE MOUSE, WHY DOST THOU CRY WHILE MERRY STARS LAUGH IN THE SKY? Alas! alas! my lord is dead! Ah, who will ease my bitter pain? He went to seek a millet-grain In the rich farmer's granary shed; They caught him in a baited snare, And slew my lover unaware: Alas! alas! my lord is dead. O LITTLE DEER, WHY DOST THOU MOAN, HID IN THY FOREST-BOWER ALONE? Alas! alas! my lord is dead! Ah! who will quiet my lament? At fall of eventide he went To drink beside the river-head; A waiting hunter threw his dart, And struck my lover through the heart. Alas! alas! my lord is dead. O LITTLE BRIDE, WHY DOST THOU WEEP WITH ALL THE HAPPY WORLD ASLEEP? Alas! alas! my lord is dead! Ah, who will stay these hungry tears, Or still the want of famished years, And crown with love my marriage-bed? My soul burns with the quenchless fire That lit my lover's funeral pyre: Alas! alas! my lord is dead. VILLAGE-SONG Honey, child, honey, child, whither are you going? Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing? Would you leave the mother who on golden grain has fed you? Would you grieve the lover who is riding forth to wed you? Mother mine, to the wild forest I am going, Where upon the champa boughs the champa buds are blowing; To the koil-haunted river-isles where lotus lilies glisten, The voices of the fairy folk are calling me: O listen! Honey, child, honey, child, the world is full of pleasure, Of bridal-songs and cradle-songs and sandal-scented leisure. Your bridal robes are in the loom, silver and saffron glowing, Your bridal cakes are on the hearth: O whither are you going? The bridal-songs and cradle-songs have cadences of sorrow, The laughter of the sun to-day, the wind of death to-morrow. Far sweeter sound the forest-notes where forest-streams are falling; O mother mine, I cannot stay, the fairy-folk are calling. IN PRAISE OF HENNA A kokila called from a henna-spray: LIRA! LIREE! LIRA! LIREE! Hasten, maidens, hasten away To gather the leaves of the henna-tree. Send your pitchers afloat on the tide, Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old, Grind them in mortars of amber and gold, The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree. A kokila called from a henna-spray: LIRA! LIREE! LIRA! LIREE! Hasten maidens, hasten away To gather the leaves of the henna-tree. The tilka's red for the brow of a bride, And betel-nut's red for lips that are sweet; But, for lily-like fingers and feet, The red, the red of the henna-tree. HARVEST HYMN Men's Voices Lord of the lotus, lord of the harvest, Bright and munificent lord of the morn! Thine is the bounty that prospered our sowing, Thine is the bounty that nurtured our corn. We bring thee our songs and our garlands for tribute, The gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit; O giver of mellowing radiance, we hail thee, We praise thee, O Surya, with cymbal and flute. Lord of the rainbow, lord of the harvest, Great and beneficent lord of the main! Thine is the mercy that cherished our furrows, Thine is the mercy that fostered our grain. We bring thee our thanks and our garlands for tribute, The wealth of our valleys, new-garnered and ripe; O sender of rain and the dewfall, we hail thee, We praise thee, Varuna, with cymbal and pipe. Women's Voices Queen of the gourd-flower, queen of the harvest, Sweet and omnipotent mother, O Earth! Thine is the plentiful bosom that feeds us, Thine is the womb where our riches have birth. We bring thee our love and our garlands for tribute, With gifts of thy opulent giving we come; O source of our manifold gladness, we hail thee, We praise thee, O Prithvi, with cymbal and drum. All Voices Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being, Father eternal, ineffable Om! Thou art the Seed and the Scythe of our harvests, Thou art our Hands and our Heart and our Home. We bring thee our lives and our labours for tribute, Grant us thy succour, thy counsel, thy care. O Life of all life and all blessing, we hail thee, We praise thee, O Bramha, with cymbal and prayer. INDIAN LOVE-SONG She Like a serpent to the calling voice of flutes, Glides my heart into thy fingers, O my Love! Where the night-wind, like a lover, leans above His jasmine-gardens and sirisha-bowers; And on ripe boughs of many-coloured fruits Bright parrots cluster like vermilion flowers. He Like the perfume in the petals of a rose, Hides thy heart within my bosom, O my love! Like a garland, like a jewel, like a dove That hangs its nest in the asoka-tree. Lie still, O love, until the morning sows Her tents of gold on fields of ivory. CRADLE-SONG From groves of spice, O'er fields of rice, Athwart the lotus-stream, I bring for you, Aglint with dew A little lovely dream. Sweet, shut your eyes, The wild fire-flies Dance through the fairy neem; From the poppy-bole For you I stole A little lovely dream. Dear eyes, good-night, In golden light The stars around you gleam; On you I press With soft caress A little lovely dream. SUTTEE Lamp of my life, the lips of Death Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath; Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . . Love, must I dwell in the living dark? Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root; Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . . Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead? Life of my life, Death's bitter sword Hath severed us like a broken word, Rent us in twain who are but one . . Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone? SONGS FOR MUSIC SONG OF A DREAM Once in the dream of a night I stood Lone in the light of a magical wood, Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang; And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang, And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed, And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed In that magical wood in the land of sleep. Lone in the light of that magical grove, I felt the stars of the spirits of Love Gather and gleam round my delicate youth, And I heard the song of the spirits of Truth; To quench my longing I bent me low By the streams of the spirits of Peace that flow In that magical wood in the land of sleep. HUMAYUN TO ZOBEIDA (From the Urdu) You flaunt your beauty in the rose, your glory in the dawn, Your sweetness in the nightingale, your whiteness in the swan. You haunt my waking like a dream, my slumber like a moon, Pervade me like a musky scent, possess me like a tune. Yet, when I crave of you, my sweet, one tender moment's grace, You cry, "I SIT BEHIND THE VEIL, I CANNOT SHOW MY FACE." Shall any foolish veil divide my longing from my bliss? Shall any fragile curtain hide your beauty from my kiss? What war is this of THEE and ME? Give o'er the wanton strife, You are the heart within my heart, the life within my life. AUTUMN SONG Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, The sunset hangs on a cloud; A golden storm of glittering sheaves, Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, The wild wind blows in a cloud. Hark to a voice that is calling To my heart in the voice of the wind: My heart is weary and sad and alone, For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, And why should I stay behind? ALABASTER Like this alabaster box whose art Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart, Carven with delicate dreams and wrought With many a subtle and exquisite thought. Therein I treasure the spice and scent Of rich and passionate memories blent Like odours of cinnamon, sandal and clove, Of song and sorrow and life and love. ECSTASY Cover mine eyes, O my Love! Mine eyes that are weary of bliss As of light that is poignant and strong O silence my lips with a kiss, My lips that are weary of song! Shelter my soul, O my love! My soul is bent low with the pain And the burden of love, like the grace Of a flower that is smitten with rain: O shelter my soul from thy face! TO MY FAIRY FANCIES Nay, no longer I may hold you, In my spirit's soft caresses, Nor like lotus-leaves enfold you In the tangles of my tresses. Fairy fancies, fly away To the white cloud-wildernesses, Fly away! Nay, no longer ye may linger With your laughter-lighted faces, Now I am a thought-worn singer In life's high and lonely places. Fairy fancies, fly away, To bright wind-inwoven spaces, Fly away! POEMS ODE TO H.H. THE NIZAM OF HYDERABAD (Presented at the Ramzan Durbar) Deign, Prince, my tribute to receive, This lyric offering to your name, Who round your jewelled scepter bind The lilies of a poet's fame; Beneath whose sway concordant dwell The peoples whom your laws embrace, In brotherhood of diverse creeds, And harmony of diverse race: The votaries of the Prophet's faith, Of whom you are the crown and chief And they, who bear on Vedic brows Their mystic symbols of belief; And they, who worshipping the sun, Fled o'er the old Iranian sea; And they, who bow to Him who trod The midnight waves of Galilee. Sweet, sumptuous fables of Baghdad The splendours of your court recall, The torches of a Thousand Nights Blaze through a single festival; And Saki-singers down the streets, Pour for us, in a stream divine, From goblets of your love-ghazals The rapture of your Sufi wine. Prince, where your radiant cities smile, Grim hills their sombre vigils keep, Your ancient forests hoard and hold The legends of their centuried sleep; Your birds of peace white-pinioned float O'er ruined fort and storied plain, Your faithful stewards sleepless guard The harvests of your gold and grain. God give you joy, God give you grace To shield the truth and smite the wrong, To honour Virtue, Valour, Worth. To cherish faith and foster song. So may the lustre of your days Outshine the deeds Firdusi sung, Your name within a nation's prayer, Your music on a nation's tongue. LEILI The serpents are asleep among the poppies, The fireflies light the soundless panther's way To tangled paths where shy gazelles are straying, And parrot-plumes outshine the dying day. O soft! the lotus-buds upon the stream Are stirring like sweet maidens when they dream. A caste-mark on the azure brows of Heaven, The golden moon burns sacred, solemn, bright The winds are dancing in the forest-temple, And swooning at the holy feet of Night. Hush! in the silence mystic voices sing And make the gods their incense-offering. IN THE FOREST Here, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead, Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red, Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire. We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long we have borne The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead, let us rest, Let us scatter their ashes away, for a while let us mourn; We will rest, O my heart, till the shadows are gray in the west. But soon we must rise, O my heart, we must wander again Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng; Let us rise, O my heart, let us gather the dreams that remain, We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song. PAST AND FUTURE THE NEW HATH COME AND NOW THE OLD RETIRES: And so the past becomes a mountain-cell, Where lone, apart, old hermit-memories dwell In consecrated calm, forgotten yet Of the keen heart that hastens to forget Old longings in fulfilling new desires. And now the Soul stands in a vague, intense Expectancy and anguish of suspense, On the dim chamber-threshold . . . lo! he sees Like a strange, fated bride as yet unknown, His timid future shrinking there alone, Beneath her marriage-veil of mysteries. LIFE Children, ye have not lived, to you it seems Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams, Or carnival of careless joys that leap About your hearts like billows on the deep In flames of amber and of amethyst. Children, ye have not lived, ye but exist Till some resistless hour shall rise and move Your hearts to wake and hunger after love, And thirst with passionate longing for the things That burn your brows with blood-red sufferings. Till ye have battled with great grief and fears, And borne the conflict of dream-shattering years, Wounded with fierce desire and worn with strife, Children, ye have not lived: for this is life. THE POET'S LOVE-SONG In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong, I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind The world to my desire, and hold the wind A voiceless captive to my conquering song. I need thee not, I am content with these: Keep silence in thy soul, beyond the seas! But in the desolate hour of midnight, when An ecstasy of starry silence sleeps On the still mountains and the soundless deeps, And my soul hungers for thy voice, O then, Love, like the magic of wild melodies, Let thy soul answer mine across the seas. TO THE GOD OF PAIN Unwilling priestess in thy cruel fane, Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain, Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows, My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows Anointed with perpetual weariness. Long have I borne thy service, through the stress Of rigorous years, sad days and slumberless nights, Performing thine inexorable rites. For thy dark altars, balm nor milk nor rice, But mine own soul thou'st ta'en for sacrifice: All the rich honey of my youth's desire, And all the sweet oils from my crushed life drawn, And all my flower-like dreams and gem-like fire Of hopes up-leaping like the light of dawn. I have no more to give, all that was mine Is laid, a wrested tribute, at thy shrine; Let me depart, for my whole soul is wrung, And all my cheerless orisons are sung; Let me depart, with faint limbs let me creep To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep. THE SONG OF PRINCESS ZEB-UN-NISSA IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY (From the Persian) When from my cheek I lift my veil, The roses turn with envy pale, And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain, Send forth their fragrance like a wail. Or if perchance one perfumed tress Be lowered to the wind's caress, The honeyed hyacinths complain, And languish in a sweet distress. And, when I pause, still groves among, (Such loveliness is mine) a throng Of nightingales awake and strain Their souls into a quivering song. INDIAN DANCERS Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially panting, what passionate bosoms aflaming with fire Drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth heavens that glimmer around them in fountains of light; O wild and entrancing the strain of keen music that cleaveth the stars like a wail of desire, And beautiful dancers with houri-like faces bewitch the voluptuous watches of night. The scents of red roses and sandalwood flutter and die in the maze of their gem-tangled hair, And smiles are entwining like magical serpents the poppies of lips that are opiate-sweet; Their glittering garments of purple are burning like tremulous dawns in the quivering air, And exquisite, subtle and slow are the tinkle and tread of their rhythmical, slumber-soft feet. Now silent, now singing and swaying and swinging, like blossoms that bend to the breezes or showers, Now wantonly winding, they flash, now they falter, and, lingering, languish in radiant choir; Their jewel-girt arms and warm, wavering, lily-long fingers enchant through melodious hours, Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially panting, what passionate bosoms aflaming with fire! MY DEAD DREAM Have you found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven aeons ago You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow. Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep? Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands of leaves? Would you scare the white, nested, wild pigeons of joy from my eaves? Would you touch and defile with dead fingers the robes of my priest? Would you weave your dim moan with the chantings of love at my feast? Go back to your grave, O my Dream, under forests of snow, Where a heart-riven child hid you once, seven aeons ago. Who bade you arise from your darkness? I bid you depart! Profane not the shrines I have raised in the clefts of my heart. DAMAYANTE TO NALA IN THE HOUR OF EXILE (A fragment) Shalt thou be conquered of a human fate My liege, my lover, whose imperial head Hath never bent in sorrow of defeat? Shalt thou be vanquished, whose imperial feet Have shattered armies and stamped empires dead? Who shall unking thee, husband of a queen? Wear thou thy majesty inviolate. Earth's glories flee of human eyes unseen, Earth's kingdoms fade to a remembered dream, But thine henceforth shall be a power supreme, Dazzling command and rich dominion, The winds thy heralds and thy vassals all The silver-belted planets and the sun. Where'er the radiance of thy coming fall, Shall dawn for thee her saffron footcloths spread, Sunset her purple canopies and red, In serried splendour, and the night unfold Her velvet darkness wrought with starry gold For kingly raiment, soft as cygnet-down. My hair shall braid thy temples like a crown Of sapphires, and my kiss upon thy brows Like cithar-music lull thee to repose, Till the sun yield thee homage of his light. O king, thy kingdom who from thee can wrest? What fate shall dare uncrown thee from this breast, O god-born lover, whom my love doth gird And armour with impregnable delight Of Hope's triumphant keen flame-carven sword? THE QUEEN'S RIVAL QUEEN Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed, Around her countless treasures were spread; Her chamber walls were richly inlaid With agate, porphory, onyx and jade; The tissues that veiled her delicate breast, Glowed with the hues of a lapwing's crest; But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed "O King, my heart is unsatisfied." King Feroz bent from his ebony seat: "Is thy least desire unfulfilled, O Sweet? "Let thy mouth speak and my life be spent To clear the sky of thy discontent." "I tire of my beauty, I tire of this Empty splendour and shadowless bliss; "With none to envy and none gainsay, No savour or salt hath my dream or day." Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose: "Give me a rival, O King Feroz." II King Feroz spoke to his Chief Vizier: "Lo! ere to-morrow's dawn be here, "Send forth my messengers over the sea, To seek seven beautiful brides for me; "Radiant of feature and regal of mien, Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen." . . . . . Seven new moon tides at the Vesper call, King Feroz led to Queen Gulnaar's hall A young queen eyed like the morning star: "I bring thee a rival, O Queen Gulnaar." But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed: "O King, my heart is unsatisfied." Seven queens shone round her ivory bed, Like seven soft gems on a silken thread, Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower, Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose "Where is my rival, O King Feroz?" III When spring winds wakened the mountain floods, And kindled the flame of the tulip buds, When bees grew loud and the days grew long, And the peach groves thrilled to the oriole's song, Queen Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed, Decking with jewels her exquisite head; And still she gazed in her mirror and sighed: "O King, my heart is unsatisfied." Queen Gulnaar's daughter two spring times old, In blue robes bordered with tassels of gold, Ran to her knee like a wildwood fay, And plucked from her hand the mirror away. Quickly she set on her own light curls Her mother's fillet with fringes of pearls; Quickly she turned with a child's caprice And pressed on the mirror a swift, glad kiss. Queen Gulnaar laughed like a tremulous rose: "Here is my rival, O King Feroz." THE POET TO DEATH Tarry a while, O Death, I cannot die While yet my sweet life burgeons with its spring; Fair is my youth, and rich the echoing boughs Where dhadikulas sing. Tarry a while, O Death, I cannot die With all my blossoming hopes unharvested, My joys ungarnered, all my songs unsung, And all my tears unshed. Tarry a while, till I am satisfied Of love and grief, of earth and altering sky; Till all my human hungers are fulfilled, O Death, I cannot die! THE INDIAN GIPSY In tattered robes that hoard a glittering trace Of bygone colours, broidered to the knee, Behold her, daughter of a wandering race, Tameless, with the bold falcon's agile grace, And the lithe tiger's sinuous majesty. With frugal skill her simple wants she tends, She folds her tawny heifers and her sheep On lonely meadows when the daylight ends, Ere the quick night upon her flock descends Like a black panther from the caves of sleep. Time's river winds in foaming centuries Its changing, swift, irrevocable course To far off and incalculable seas; She is twin-born with primal mysteries, And drinks of life at Time's forgotten source. TO MY CHILDREN Jaya Surya, aetat 4 Golden sun of victory, born In my life's unclouded morn, In my lambent sky of love, May your growing glory prove Sacred to your consecration, To my heart and to my nation. Sun of victory, may you be Sun of song and liberty. Padmaja, aetat 3 Lotus-maiden, you who claim All the sweetness of your name, Lakshmi, fortune's queen, defend you, Lotus-born like you, and send you Balmy moons of love to bless you, Gentle joy-winds to caress you. Lotus-maiden, may you be Fragrant of all ecstasy. Ranadheera, aetat 2 Little lord of battle, hail In your newly-tempered mail! Learn to conquer, learn to fight In the foremost flanks of right, Like Valmiki's heroes bold, Rubies girt in epic gold. Lord of battle, may you be, Lord of love and chivalry. Lilamani, aetat 1 Limpid jewel of delight Severed from the tender night Of your sheltering mother-mine, Leap and sparkle, dance and shine, Blithely and securely set In love's magic coronet. Living jewel, may you be Laughter-bound and sorrow-free. THE PARDAH NASHIN Her life is a revolving dream Of languid and sequestered ease; Her girdles and her fillets gleam Like changing fires on sunset seas; Her raiment is like morning mist, Shot opal, gold and amethyst. From thieving light of eyes impure, From coveting sun or wind's caress, Her days are guarded and secure Behind her carven lattices, Like jewels in a turbaned crest, Like secrets in a lover's breast. But though no hand unsanctioned dares Unveil the mysteries of her grace, Time lifts the curtain unawares, And Sorrow looks into her face . . . Who shall prevent the subtle years, Or shield a woman's eyes from tears? TO YOUTH O Youth, sweet comrade Youth, wouldst thou be gone? Long have we dwelt together, thou and I; Together drunk of many an alien dawn, And plucked the fruit of many an alien sky. Ah, fickle friend, must I, who yesterday Dreamed forwards to long, undimmed ecstasy, Henceforward dream, because thou wilt not stay, Backward to transient pleasure and to thee? I give thee back thy false, ephemeral vow; But, O beloved comrade, ere we part, Upon my mournful eyelids and my brow Kiss me who hold thine image in my heart. NIGHTFALL IN THE CITY OF HYDERABAD See how the speckled sky burns like a pigeon's throat, Jewelled with embers of opal and peridote. See the white river that flashes and scintillates, Curved like a tusk from the mouth of the city-gates. Hark, from the minaret, how the muezzin's call Floats like a battle-flag over the city wall. From trellised balconies, languid and luminous Faces gleam, veiled in a splendour voluminous. Leisurely elephants wind through the winding lanes, Swinging their silver bells hung from their silver chains. Round the high Char Minar sounds of gay cavalcades Blend with the music of cymbals and serenades. Over the city bridge Night comes majestical, Borne like a queen to a sumptuous festival. STREET CRIES When dawn's first cymbals beat upon the sky, Rousing the world to labour's various cry, To tend the flock, to bind the mellowing grain, From ardent toil to forge a little gain, And fasting men go forth on hurrying feet, BUY BREAD, BUY BREAD, rings down the eager street. When the earth falters and the waters swoon With the implacable radiance of noon, And in dim shelters koils hush their notes, And the faint, thirsting blood in languid throats Craves liquid succour from the cruel heat, BUY FRUIT, BUY FRUIT, steals down the panting street. When twilight twinkling o'er the gay bazaars, Unfurls a sudden canopy of stars, When lutes are strung and fragrant torches lit On white roof-terraces where lovers sit Drinking together of life's poignant sweet, BUY FLOWERS, BUY FLOWERS, floats down the singing street. TO INDIA O young through all thy immemorial years! Rise, Mother, rise, regenerate from thy gloom, And, like a bride high-mated with the spheres, Beget new glories from thine ageless womb! The nations that in fettered darkness weep Crave thee to lead them where great mornings break . . . . Mother, O Mother, wherefore dost thou sleep? Arise and answer for thy children's sake! Thy Future calls thee with a manifold sound To crescent honours, splendours, victories vast; Waken, O slumbering Mother and be crowned, Who once wert empress of the sovereign Past. THE ROYAL TOMBS OF GOLCONDA I muse among these silent fanes Whose spacious darkness guards your dust; Around me sleep the hoary plains That hold your ancient wars in trust. I pause, my dreaming spirit hears, Across the wind's unquiet tides, The glimmering music of your spears, The laughter of your royal brides. In vain, O Kings, doth time aspire To make your names oblivion's sport, While yonder hill wears like a tier The ruined grandeur of your fort. Though centuries falter and decline, Your proven strongholds shall remain Embodied memories of your line, Incarnate legends of your reign. O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed Your flower-like bodies to the tomb; Death is in truth the vital seed Of your imperishable bloom Each new-born year the bulbuls sing Their songs of your renascent loves; Your beauty wakens with the spring To kindle these pomegranate groves. TO A BUDDHA SEATED ON A LOTUS Lord Buddha, on thy Lotus-throne, With praying eyes and hands elate, What mystic rapture dost thou own, Immutable and ultimate? What peace, unravished of our ken, Annihilate from the world of men? The wind of change for ever blows Across the tumult of our way, To-morrow's unborn griefs depose The sorrows of our yesterday. Dream yields to dream, strife follows strife, And Death unweaves the webs of Life. For us the travail and the heat, The broken secrets of our pride, The strenuous lessons of defeat, The flower deferred, the fruit denied; But not the peace, supremely won, Lord Buddha, of thy Lotus-throne. With futile hands we seek to gain Our inaccessible desire, Diviner summits to attain, With faith that sinks and feet that tire; But nought shall conquer or control The heavenward hunger of our soul. The end, elusive and afar, Still lures us with its beckoning flight, And all our mortal moments are A session of the Infinite. How shall we reach the great, unknown Nirvana of thy Lotus-throne? [end] 
41128	----	Oriental Translation Fund. New Series. II. The KADAMBARI OF BANA. Translated, with Occasional Omissions, And Accompanied by a Full Abstract of the Continuation of the Romance by the Author's Son Bhushanabhatta, By C. M. RIDDING, Formerly Scholar of Girton College, Cambridge. Printed and published under the patronage of The Royal Asiatic Society, And sold at 22, Albemarle Street, London. 1896. To MRS. COWELL, WHO FIRST TOLD ME THE STORY OF KADAMBARI, THIS TRANSLATION IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 'Anenakaranavishkritavatsalyena caritena kasya na bandhutvam adhyaropayasi.' INTRODUCTION. [1] The story of Kadambari is interesting for several reasons. It is a standard example of classical prose; it has enjoyed a long popularity as a romance; and it is one of the comparatively few Sanskrit works which can be assigned to a certain date, and so it can serve as a landmark in the history of Indian literature and Indian thought. THE AUTHOR. Banabhatta, its author, lived in the reign of Harshavardhana of Thaneçar, the great king mentioned in many inscriptions, [2] who extended his rule over the whole of Northern India, and from whose reign (A.D. 606) dates the Harsha era, used in Nepal. Bana, as he tells us, both in the 'Harsha-Carita' and in the introductory verses of 'Kadambari,' was a Vatsyayana Brahman. His mother died while he was yet young, and his father's tender care of him, recorded in the 'Harsha-Carita,' [3] was doubtless in his memory as he recorded the unselfish love of Vaiçampayana's father in 'Kadambari' (p. 22). In his youth he travelled much, and for a time 'came into reproach,' by reason of his unsettled life; but the experience gained in foreign lands turned his thoughts homewards, and he returned to his kin, and lived a life of quiet study in their midst. From this he was summoned to the court of King Harsha, who at first received him coldly, but afterwards attached him to his service; and Bana in the 'Harsha-Carita' relates his own life as a prelude to that of his master. The other works attributed to him are the 'Candikaçataka,' [4] or verses in honour of Candika; a drama, 'The Parvatiparinaya'; and another, called 'Mukutataditaka,' the existence of which is inferred from Gunavinayagani's commentary on the 'Nalacampu.' Professor Peterson also mentions that a verse of Bana's ('Subhashitavali,' 1087) is quoted by Kshemendra in his 'Aucityavicaracarca,' with a statement that it is part of a description of Kadambari's sorrow in the absence of Candrapida, whence, he adds, 'it would seem that Bana wrote the story of Kadambari in verse as well as in prose,' and he gives some verses which may have come from such a work. Bana himself died, leaving 'Kadambari' unfinished, and his son Bhushanabhatta took it up in the midst of a speech in which Kadambari's sorrows are told, and continued the speech without a break, save for a few introductory verses in honour of his father, and in apology for his having undertaken the task, 'as its unfinished state was a grief to the good.' He continued the story on the same plan, and with careful, and, indeed, exaggerated, imitation of his father's style. THE PLOT OF KADAMBARI. The story of 'Kadambari' is a very complex one, dealing as it does with the lives of two heroes, each of whom is reborn twice on earth. (1-47) A learned parrot, named Vaiçampayana, was brought by a Candala maiden to King Çudraka, and told him how it was carried from its birthplace in the Vindhya Forest to the hermitage of the sage Jabali, from whom it learnt the story of its former life. (47-95) Jabali's story was as follows: Tarapida, King of Ujjayini, won by penance a son, Candrapida, who was brought up with Vaiçampayana, son of his minister, Çukanasa. In due time Candrapida was anointed as Crown Prince, and started on an expedition of world-conquest. At the end of it he reached Kailasa, and, while resting there, was led one day in a vain chase of a pair of kinnaras to the shores of the Acchoda Lake. (95-141) There he beheld a young ascetic maiden, Mahaçveta, who told him how she, being a Gandharva princess, had seen and loved a young Brahman Pundarika; how he, returning her feeling, had died from the torments of a love at variance with his vow; how a divine being had carried his body to the sky, and bidden her not to die, for she should be reunited with him; and how she awaited that time in a life of penance. (141-188) But her friend Kadambari, another Gandharva princess, had vowed not to marry while Mahaçveta was in sorrow, and Mahaçveta invited the prince to come to help her in dissuading Kadambari from the rash vow. Love sprang up between the prince and Kadambari at first sight; but a sudden summons from his father took him to Ujjayini without farewell, while Kadambari, thinking herself deserted, almost died of grief. (188-195) Meanwhile news came that his friend Vaiçampayana, whom he had left in command of the army, had been strangely affected by the sight of the Acchoda Lake, and refused to leave it. The prince set out to find him, but in vain; and proceeding to the hermitage of Mahaçveta, he found her in despair, because, in invoking on a young Brahman, who had rashly approached her, a curse to the effect that he should become a parrot, she learnt that she had slain Vaiçampayana. At her words the prince fell dead from grief, and at that moment Kadambari came to the hermitage. (195-202) Her resolve to follow him in death was broken by the promise of a voice from the sky that she and Mahaçveta should both be reunited with their lovers, and she stayed to tend the prince's body, from which a divine radiance proceeded; while King Tarapida gave up his kingdom, and lived as a hermit near his son. (202 to end) Such was Jabali's tale; and the parrot went on to say how, hearing it, the memory of its former love for Mahaçveta was reawakened, and, though bidden to stay in the hermitage, it flew away, only to be caught and taken to the Candala princess. It was now brought by her to King Çudraka, but knew no more. The Candala maiden thereupon declared to Çudraka that she was the goddess Lakshmi, mother of Pundarika or Vaiçampayana, and announced that the curse for him and Çudraka was now over. Then Çudraka suddenly remembered his love for Kadambari, and wasted away in longing for her, while a sudden touch of Kadambari restored to life the Moon concealed in the body of Candrapida, the form that he still kept, because in it he had won her love. Now the Moon, as Candrapida and Çudraka, and Pundarika, in the human and parrot shape of Vaiçampayana, having both fulfilled the curse of an unsuccessful love in two births on earth, were at last set free, and, receiving respectively the hands of Kadambari and Mahaçveta, lived happily ever afterwards. The plot is involved, and consists of stories within each other after the fashion long familiar to Europeans in the 'Arabian Nights'; but the author's skill in construction is shown by the fact that each of the minor stories is essential to the development of the plot, and it is not till quite the end that we see that Çudraka himself, the hearer of the story, is really the hero, and that his hearing the story is necessary to reawaken his love for Kadambari, and so at the same time fulfil the terms of the curse that he should love in vain during two lives, and bring the second life to an end by his longing for reunion. It may help to make the plot clear if the threads of it are disentangled. The author in person tells all that happens to Çudraka (pp. 3-16 and pp. 205 to end). The parrot's tale (pp. 16-205) includes that of Jabali (pp. 47-202) concerning Candrapida, and Vaiçampayana the Brahman, with the story told by Mahaçveta (pp. 101-136) of her love for Pundarika. THE STORY AS TOLD IN THE KATHA-SARIT-SAGARA. The story as told in the Katha-Sarit-Sagara of Somadeva [5] differs in some respects from this. There a Nishada princess brought to King Sumanas a learned parrot, which told its life in the forest, ended by a hunt in which its father was killed, and the story of its past life narrated by the hermit Agastya. In this story a prince, Somaprabha, after an early life resembling that of Candrapida, was led in his pursuit of kinnaras to an ascetic maiden, Manorathaprabha, whose story is that of Mahaçveta, and she took him, at his own request, to see the maiden Makarandika, who had vowed not to marry while her friend was unwed. He was borne through the air by a Vidyadhara, and beheld Makarandika. They loved each other, and a marriage was arranged between them. The prince, however, was suddenly recalled by his father, and Makarandika's wild grief brought on her from her parents a curse that she should be born as a Nishada. Too late they repented, and died of grief; and her father became a parrot, keeping from a former birth as a sage his memory of the Çastras, while her mother became a sow. Pulastya added that the curse would be over when the story was told in a king's court. The parrot's tale reminded King Sumanas of his former birth, and on the arrival of the ascetic maiden, sent by Çiva, 'who is merciful to all his worshippers,' he again became the young hermit she had loved. Somaprabha, too, at Çiva's bidding, went to the king's court, and at the sight of him the Nishada regained the shape of Makarandika, and became his wife; while the parrot 'left the body of a bird, and went to the home earned by his asceticism.' 'Thus,' the story ends, 'the appointed union of human beings certainly takes place in this world, though vast spaces intervene.' The main difference between the stories is in the persons affected by the curse; and here the artistic superiority of Bana is shown in his not attaching the degrading forms of birth to Kadambari or her parents. The horse is given as a present to the hero by Indra, who sends him a message, saying: 'You are a Vidyadhara, and I give you the horse in memory of our former friendship. When you mount it you will be invincible.' The hero's marriage is arranged before his sudden departure, so that the grief of the heroine is due only to their separation, and not to the doubts on which Bana dwells so long. It appears possible that both this story and 'Kadambari' are taken from a common original now lost, which may be the Brihatkatha of Gunadhya. [6] In that case the greater refinement of Bana's tale would be the result of genius giving grace to a story already familiar in a humbler guise. REFERENCES TO KADAMBARI IN THE SAHITYA-DARPANA AND ELSEWHERE. The author of the Sahitya-Darpana [7] speaks of the Katha as follows: 'In the Katha (tale), which is one of the species of poetical composition in prose, a poetical matter is represented in verse, and sometimes the Arya, and sometimes the Vaktra and Apavaktraka are the metres employed in it. It begins with stanzas in salutation to some divinity, as also descriptive of the behaviour of bad men and others.' To this the commentary adds: 'The "Kadambari" of Banabhatta is an example.' Professor Peterson corrects the translation of the words 'Kathayam sarasam vastu padyair eva vinirmitam,' giving as their sense, 'A narration in prose, with here and there a stray verse or two, of matter already existing in a metrical form.' [8] According to his rendering, the Katha is in its essence a story claiming to be based on previous works in verse, whether in this case the original were Bana's own metrical version of 'Kadambari,' [9] or the work which was also the original of the Katha-Sarit-Sagara story. The story of Pundarika and Mahaçveta receives mention, firstly, for the introduction of death, contrary to the canon; secondly, for the determination of the nature of their sorrow, and its poetic quality, and consequent appeal to the feelings of the reader. Firstly: (§ 215) 'Death, which is a condition to which one may be brought by love, is not described in poetry and the drama, where the other conditions, such as anxiety, etc., are constantly described, because it, instead of enhancing, causes the destruction of "Flavour." [10] But it may be spoken of (1) as having nearly taken place, or (2) as being mentally wished for; and it is with propriety described (3) if there is to be, at no distant date, a restoration to life.' The commentary takes the story of Pundarika as an example of the third condition, and describes it as a 'case of pathetic separation.' Secondly: (§ 224) 'Either of two young lovers being dead, and being yet to be regained through some supernatural interposition, when the one left behind is sorrowful, then let it be called the separation of tender sadness' (karunavipralamhha). The commentary gives Mahaçveta as the instance, and continues: 'But if the lost one be not regainable, or regainable only after transmigration in another body, the flavour is called the "Pathetic" simply, there being in this case no room for any admixture of the "Erotic"; but in the case just mentioned--of Pundarika and Mahaçveta--immediately on Sarasvati's declaration from the sky that the lovers should be reunited, there is the "Erotic in its form of tender sadness," for desire arises on the expectation of reunion, but PREVIOUSLY to Sarasvati's promise there was the "Pathetic"; such is the opinion of the competent authorities. And as for what some say in regard to the case of Pundarika and Mahaçveta, that "moreover AFTER the expectation of reunion, excited by Sarasvati's promise to that effect, there is merely your honour's variety of "love in absence," (§ 222) the one which you call "being abroad" (§ 221)--others hold it to be distinct, because of the presence of that distinction, DEATH, which is something else than merely being abroad.' These are the passages in which direct mention is made of 'Kadambari,' and in § 735, which defines special mention (parisamkhya) as taking place 'when something is affirmed for the denial, expressed or understood, of something else similar to it,' the commentary adds: 'When founded upon a Paronomasia, it is peculiarly striking, e.g., "When that king, the conqueror of the world, was protecting the earth, the mixture of colours (or castes) was in painting, etc.,"--a passage from the description of Çudraka in "Kadambari" (P. 5).' References to Bana in other works are given by Professor Peterson, so that three only need be mentioned here. The first I owe to the kindness of Professor C. Bendall. In a collection of manuscripts at the British Museum (Or., 445-447) 'consisting chiefly of law-books transcribed (perhaps for some European) on European paper in the Telugu-Canarese character,' one, Or., 446 c., the Kamandakiya-Niti-Çastra, contains on folios 128-131 a passage from 'Kadambari' (pp. 76-84, infra) [11] on the consecration of a crown-prince, and the duties and dangers of a king. It forms part of an introduction to the Kamandakiya-Niti-Çastra and occurs without any hint of its being a quotation from another work. The author of the Nalacampu not only writes a verse in honour of Bana, [12] but models his whole style upon him. A curious instance of the long popularity of 'Kadambari' is that in the 'Durgeçanandini' by Chattaji, an historical novel, published in 1871, and treating of the time of Akbar, the heroine is represented as reading in her boudoir the romance of 'Kadambari.' [13] THE INTEREST OF 'KADAMBARI.' It may be asked What is the value of 'Kadambari' for European readers? and to different persons the answer will doubtless be different. Historical interest, so far as that depends on the narration of historical facts, appears to be entirely lacking, though it may be that at some future time our knowledge from other sources may be so increased that we may recognise portraits and allusions in what seems now purely a work of romance. But in the wider sense in which history claims to deal with the social ideas that belong to any epoch, 'Kadambari' will always have value as representing the ways of thinking and feeling which were either customary or welcome at its own time, and which have continued to charm Indian readers. It is indeed true that it probably in many ways does not give a picture of contemporary manners, just as a mediæval illuminated manuscript often represents the dress and surroundings prior to the time of the illuminator, so as to gain the grace of remoteness bestowed by reverence for the past. In India, where change works but slowly, the description of the court and city life, where all the subjects show by outward tokens their sympathy with the joys and sorrows of their ruler, as in a Greek chorus, is vivid in its fidelity. [14] The quiet yet busy life of the hermits in the forest, where the day is spent in worship and in peaceful toils, where at eve the sunbeams 'linger like birds on the crest of hill and tree,' and where night 'darkens all save the hearts of the hermits,' is full of charm. [15] The coronation of the crown prince, the penances performed by the queen to win a son, the reverence paid to Mahakala, also belong to our picture of the time. The description of Ujjayini, surrounded by the Sipra, is too general in its terms to give a vivid notion of what it then was. The site of the temple of Mahakala is still shown outside the ruins of the old town. A point of special interest is the argument against the custom of suicide on the death of a friend. Candrapida consoles Mahaçveta that she has not followed her lover in death by saying that one who kills himself at his friend's death makes that friend a sharer in the guilt, and can do no more for him in another world, whereas by living he can give help by sacrifices and offerings. Those, too, who die may not be reunited for thousands of births. In the 'Katha-Koça' [16] a prince is dissuaded from following his wife to death because 'Even the idea of union with your beloved will be impossible when you are dead'; but the occurrence of the idea in a romance is more noteworthy than in a work which illustrates Jain doctrines. The question of food as affected by caste is touched on also (p. 205), when the Candala maiden tells the parrot that a Brahman may, in case of need, receive food of any kind, and that water poured on the ground, and fruit, are pure even when brought by the lowest. Another point to be remarked is the mention of followers of many sects as being present at court. Çiva, especially under the name of Mahakala at Ujjayini, receives special worship, and Agni and the Matrikas (p. 14) also receive reverence. The zenanas include aged ascetic women (p. 217); followers of the Arhat, Krishna, Viçravasa, Avalokiteçvara, and Viriñca (p. 162); and the courtyard of Çukanasa has Çaivas and followers of Çakyamuni (p. 217), also Kshapanakas (explained by the Commentary as Digambaras). The king, [17] however, is described as having an urna (the hair meeting between the brows), which is one of Buddha's marks; but the Commentary describes the urna as cakravartiprabhritinam eva nanyasya, so probably it only belongs to Buddha as cakravarti, or universal ruler. This shows that the reign of Harsha was one of religious tolerance. Hiouen Thsang, indeed, claims him as a Buddhist at heart, and mentions his building Buddhist stupas, [18] but he describes himself as a Çaiva in the Madhuban grant, [19] and the preeminence yielded in 'Kadambari' to Çiva certainly shows that his was then the popular worship. Another source of interest in 'Kadambari' lies in its contribution to folklore. It may perhaps contain nothing not found elsewhere, but the fact of its having a date gives it a value. The love of snakes for the breeze and for sandal-trees, the truth of dreams at the end of night, the magic circles, bathing in snake-ponds to gain a son, the mustard-seed and ghi put in a baby's mouth, may all be familiar ideas, but we have a date at which they were known and not despised. Does the appeal to the truth of her heart by Mahaçveta in invoking the curse (p. 193) rest on the idea that fidelity to a husband confers supernatural power, [20] or is it like the 'act of truth' by which Buddha often performs miracles in the 'Jataka'? THE STYLE OF 'KADAMBARI.' The unsettled chronology of Indian literature makes it impossible to work out at present Bana's relations with other Sanskrit writers. Professor Peterson, [21] indeed, makes some interesting conjectures as to his connection with other authors of his own country, and also suggests, from similarity of phrase, that he may have fallen indirectly under the influence of Alexandrian literature. Be that as it may, he has been for many centuries a model of style, and it is therefore worth while to consider briefly the characteristics of his style compared with European standards. The first thing that strikes the reader is that the sense of proportion, the very foundation of style as we know it, is entirely absent. No topic is let go till the author can squeeze no more from it. In descriptions every possible minor detail is given in all its fulness; then follows a series of similes, and then a firework of puns. In speeches, be they lamentations or exhortations, grief is not assuaged, nor advice ended, till the same thing has been uttered with every existing variety of synonym. This defect, though it springs from the author's richness of resource and readiness of wit, makes the task of rendering in English the merit of the Sanskrit style an impossible one. It gives also a false impression; for to us a long description, if good, gives the effect of 'sweetness long drawn out,' and, if bad, brings drowsiness; whereas in Sanskrit the unending compounds suggest the impetuous rush of a torrent, and the similes and puns are like the play of light and shade on its waters. Bana, according to Professor Weber, [22] 'passes for the special representative of the Pañcali style,' [23] which Bhoja, quoted in the commentary of the 'Sahitya-Darpana,' defines as 'a sweet and soft style characterized by force (ojas) and elegance (kanti), containing compounds of five or six words.' But style, which is to poetic charm as the body to the soul, varies with the sense to be expressed, and Bana in many of his speeches is perfectly simple and direct. Owing to the peacefulness of 'Kadambari,' there is little opportunity for observing the rule that in the 'Katha' letters 'ought not to be too rough, even when the flavour is furious.' [24] Of the alliteration of initial consonants, the only long passage is in the description of Çukanasa (p. 50), but in its subtler forms it constantly occurs. Of shorter passages there are several examples--e.g., Candra Candala (infra, p. 127); Candrapida Candalo (Sanskrit text, p. 416); Utkantham sotkantham kanthe jagraha (Ibid., p. 367); Kamam sakamam kuryam (Ibid., p. 350); Candrapida pidanaya (Ibid., p. 370). The ornament of çlesha, or paronomasia, which seems to arise from the untrained philological instinct of mankind seeking the fundamental identity of like sounds with apparently unlike meaning, and which lends dramatic intensity when, as sometimes in Shakespeare, [25] a flash of passionate feeling reveals to the speaker an original sameness of meaning in words seemingly far apart, is by Bana used purely as an adornment. He speaks of pleasant stories interwoven with puns 'as jasmine garlands with campak buds,' and they abound in his descriptions. The rasanopama, [26] or girdle of similes, is exemplified (p. 115), 'As youth to beauty, love to youth, spring to love' so was Kapiñjala to Pundarika. Vishamam (incongruity) is the figure used in 'the brightness of his glory, free from heat, consumed his foes; constant, ever roamed' (p. 48). It can scarcely be separated from virodha (contradiction)--often used, as in 'I will allay on the funeral pyre the fever which the moon, sandal, and all cool things have increased' (p. 195)--or from vicitram [27] (strangeness), where an act is contrary to its apparent purpose: 'There lives not the man whom the virtues of the most courteous lady Kadambari do not discourteously enslave' (p. 159). Arthapatti [28] (a fortiori conclusion) is exemplified in 'Even the senseless trees, robed in bark, seem like fellow-ascetics of this holy man. How much more, then, living beings endowed with sense!' (p. 43). Time and space would alike fail for analysis of Bana's similes according to the rules of the 'Sahitya-Darpana.' [29] The author of the 'Raghavapandaviya' considers Subandhu and Bana as his only equals in vakrokti, or crooked speech, and the fault of a 'meaning to be guessed out' ('Sahitya-Darpana,' § 574) is not rare. The 'Kavya-Prakaça,' in addition to the references given by Professor Peterson, quotes a stanza describing a horse in the 'Harsha-Carita' (chap. iii.) as an example of svabhavokti. The hero belongs to the division described as the high-spirited, but temperate and firm ('Sahitya-Darpana,' § 64), i.e., he who is 'not given to boasting, placable, very profound, with great self-command, resolute, whose self-esteem is concealed, and faithful to his engagements,' and who has the 'eight manly qualities' of 'brilliancy, vivacity, sweetness of temper, depth of character, steadfastness, keen sense of honour, gallantry, and magnanimity' (Ibid., § 89). Kadambari is the type of the youthful heroine who feels love for the first time, is shy, and gentle even in indignation (Ibid., § 98). The companions of each are also those declared in the books of rhetoric to be appropriate. LITERARY PARALLELS. The work which most invites comparison with 'Kadambari' is one far removed from it in place and time--Spenser's 'Faerie Queene.' Both have in great measure the same faults and the same virtues. The lack of proportion,--due partly to too large a plan, partly to an imagination wandering at will--the absence of visualization--which in Spenser produces sometimes a line like 'A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow, Yet she much whiter,' and in Bana many a description like that of Mahaçveta's fairness (pp. 95-97)--the undiscriminating praise bestowed on those whom they would fain honour, the shadowy nature of many of their personages, and the intricacies in which the story loses itself, are faults common to both. Both, too, by a strange coincidence, died with their work unfinished. But if they have the same faults, they have also many of the same virtues. The love of what is beautiful and pure both in character and the world around, tenderness of heart, a gentle spirit troubled by the disquiet of life, [30] grace and sweetness of style, and idyllic simplicity, are common to both. Though, however, Candrapida may have the chivalry and reverence of the Red Cross Knight, and Una share with Kadambari or Rohini 'nobility, tenderness, loftiness of soul, devotion and charm,' [31] the English hero and heroine are more real and more strenuous. We are, indeed, told in one hurried sentence of the heroic deeds of Candrapida in his world-conquest, and his self-control and firmness are often insisted on; but as he appears throughout the book, his self-control is constantly broken down by affection or grief, and his firmness destroyed by a timid balancing of conflicting duties, while his real virtue is his unfailing gentleness and courtesy. Nor could Kadambari, like Una, bid him, in any conflict, 'Add faith unto your force, and be not faint.' She is, perhaps, in youth and entire self-surrender, more like Shakespeare's Juliet, but she lacks her courage and resolve. THE PURPOSE OF 'KADAMBARI.' The likeness of spirit between these two leads to the question, Had Bana, like Spenser, any purpose, ethical or political, underlying his story? On the surface it is pure romance, and it is hard to believe that he had any motive but the simple delight of self-expression and love for the children of his own imagination. He only claims to tell a story 'tender with the charm of gracious speech, that comes of itself, like a bride, to the possession of its lord'; [32] but it may be that he gladly gathered up in old age the fruits of his life's experience, and that his own memory of his father's tenderness to his childhood, of the temptations of youth, and of the dangers of prosperity and flattery that assail the heart of kings, was not used only to adorn a tale, but to be a guide to others on the perilous path of life. Be that as it may, the interest of 'Kadambari,' like that of the 'Faerie Queene,' does not depend for us now on any underlying purpose, but on the picture it presents in itself of the life and thought of a world removed in time, but not in sympathy, from our own; on the fresh understanding it gives of those who are in the widest sense our fellow-countrymen; and on the charm, to quote the beautiful words of Professor Peterson, 'of a story of human sorrow and divine consolation, of death and the passionate longing for a union after death, that goes straight from the heart of one who had himself felt the pang, and nursed the hope, to us who are of like frame with him ... the story which from the beginning of time mortal ears have yearned to hear, but which mortal lips have never spoken.' THE PLAN OF THE TRANSLATION. The translation of Bana presents much difficulty from the elaboration of his style, and it has been a specially hard task, and sometimes an impossible one, to give any rendering of the constant play on words in which he delights. I have sometimes endeavoured to give what might be an English equivalent, and in such cases I have added in a note the literal meaning of both alternatives; perhaps too much freedom may have been used, and sometimes also the best alternative may not have been chosen to place in the text; but those who have most experience will know how hard it is to do otherwise than fail. Some long descriptions have been omitted, such, e.g., as a passage of several pages describing how the dust rose under the feet of Candrapida's army, and others where there seemed no special interest or variety to redeem their tediousness. A list of these omissions [33] is given at the end, together with an appendix, in which a few passages, chiefly interesting as mentioning religious sects, are added. I have acted on Professor Cowell's advice as to the principle on which omissions are made, as also in giving only a full abstract, and not a translation, of the continuation of 'Kadambari' by Bhushana. It is so entirely an imitation of his father's work in style, with all his faults, and without the originality that redeems them, that it would not reward translation. In my abstract I have kept the direct narration as more simple, but even when passages are given rather fully, it does not profess in any case to be more than a very free rendering; sometimes only the sense of a whole passage is summed up. I regret that the system of transliteration approved by the Royal Asiatic Society came too late for adoption here. The edition of 'Kadambari' to which the references in the text are given is that of the Nirnaya-Sagara Press (Bombay, 1890), which the full commentary makes indispensable, but I have also throughout made use of Professor Peterson's edition (Bombay Sanskrit Series, No. xxiv.). For the last half of the Second Part [34] I have referred to an anonymous literal translation, published by the New Britannia Press Depository, 78, Amherst Street, Calcutta. I have now to offer my grateful thanks to the Secretary of State for India, without whose kind help the volume could not have been published. I have also to thank Miss C. M. Duff for allowing me to use the MS. of her 'Indian Chronology'; Miss E. Dale, of Girton College, for botanical notes, which I regret that want of space prevented my printing in full; Mr. C. Tawney, librarian of the Indian Office, for information as to the sources of Indian fiction; Mr. F. F. Arbuthnot and Professor Rhys-Davids, for valuable advice; Professor C. Bendall, for his description of the Kamandakiya-Niti-Çastra, and his constant kindness about my work; Mr. F. W. Thomas, of Trinity College, for letting me see the proof-sheets of the translation of the 'Harsha Carita'; and others for suggested renderings of difficult phrases, and for help of various kinds. But especially my thanks are due to Professor Cowell [35] for a generosity and unwearied helpfulness which all his pupils know, and which perhaps few but they could imagine. I read through with him the whole of the First Part before translating it myself, so that mistakes in the translation, many as they may be, can arise only from misunderstanding on my part, from too great freedom of rendering, or from failing to have recourse to the knowledge he so freely gives. 'Vrihatsahayah karyantam kshodiyanapi gacchati; Sambhuyambodhim abhyeti mahanadya nagapaga.' KADAMBARI. (1) Hail to the Birthless, the cause of creation, continuance, and destruction, triple [36] in form and quality, who shows activity in the birth of things, goodness in their continuance, and darkness in their destruction. (2) Glory to the dust of Tryambaka's feet, caressed by the diadem of the demon Bana [37]; even that dust that kisses the circle of Ravana's ten crest-gems, that rests on the crests of the lords of gods and demons, and that destroys our transitory life. (3) Glory to Vishnu, who, resolving to strike from afar, with but a moment's glance from his wrath-inflamed eye stained the breast of his enemy, as if it had burst of itself in terror. I salute the lotus feet of Bhatsu, [38] honoured by crowned Maukharis: the feet which have their tawny toes rubbed on a footstool made by the united crowns of neighbouring kings. Who is there that fears not the wicked, pitiless in causeless enmity; in whose mouth calumny hard to bear is always ready as the poison of a serpent? The wicked, like fetters, echo harshly, wound deeply, and leave a scar; while the good, like jewelled anklets, ever charm the mind with sweet sounds. (4) In a bad man gentle words sink no deeper than the throat, like nectar swallowed by Rahu. The good man bears them constantly on his heart, as Hari his pure gem. A story tender with the charm of gracious speech, creates in the heart joy full of fresh interest [39]; and it comes of itself, with native feeling, to its lord's possession, like a fresh bride. [40] Who is not carried captive by tales fashioned in freshness of speech, all alight with similes, and the lamps of glowing words [41]: pleasant tales interwoven with many a contrast of words, [42] as jasmine garlands with campak buds? There was once a Brahman, Kuvera by name, sprung from the race of Vatsyayana, sung throughout the world for his virtue, a leader of the good: his lotus feet were worshipped by many a Gupta, and he seemed a very portion of Brahma. (5) On his mouth Sarasvati ever dwelt: for in it all evil was stilled by the Veda; it had lips purified by sacrificial cake, and a palate bitter with soma, and it was pleasant with smriti and çastra. In his house frightened boys, as they repeated verses of the Yajur and Sama Veda, were chidden at every word by caged parrots and mainas, who were thoroughly versed in everything belonging to words. From him was born Arthapati, a lord of the twice-born, as Hiranyagarbha from the world-egg, the moon from the Milky Ocean, or Garuda from Vinata. As he unfolded his spreading discourse day by day at dawn, new troops of pupils, intent on listening, [43] gave him a new glory, like fresh sandal-shoots fixed on the ear. (6) With countless sacrifices adorned with gifts duly offered, [44] having glowing Mahavira fires in their midst, [45] and raising the sacrificial posts as their hands, [46] he won easily, as if with a troop of elephants, the abode of the gods. He in due course obtained a son, Citrabhanu, who amongst his other noble and glorious sons, all versed in çruti and çastra, shone as crystal, like Kailasa among mountains. The virtues of that noble man, reaching far and gleaming bright as a digit of the moon, yet without its spot, pierced deep even into the hearts of his foes, like the budding claws of Nrisimha (Vishnu). The dark smoke of many a sacrifice rose like curls on the brow of the goddesses of the sky; or like shoots of tamala on the ear of the bride, the Threefold Veda, and only made his own glory shine more bright. From him was born a son, Bana, when the drops that rose from the fatigue of the soma sacrifice were wiped from his brow by the folded lotus hands of Sarasvati, and when the seven worlds had been illuminated by the rays of his glory. (7) By that Brahman, albeit with a mind keeping even in his unspoken words its original dullness blinded by the darkness of its own utter folly, and simple from having never gained the charm of ready wit, this tale, surpassing the other two, [47] was fashioned, even Kadambari. There was once upon a time a king named Çudraka. Like a second Indra, he had his commands honoured by the bent heads of all kings; he was lord of the earth girt in by the four oceans; he had an army of neighbouring chiefs bowed down in loyalty to his majesty; he had the signs of a universal emperor; (8) like Vishnu, his lotus-hand bore the sign of the conch and the quoit; like Çiva, he had overcome Love; like Kartikeya, he was unconquerable in might [48]; like Brahma, he had the circle of great kings humbled [49]; like the ocean, he was the source of Lakshmi; like the stream of Ganges, he followed in the course of the pious king Bhagiratha; like the sun, he rose daily in fresh splendour; like Meru, the brightness of his foot was honoured by all the world; like the elephant of the quarters, [50] he constantly poured forth a stream of generosity. He was a worker of wonders, an offerer of sacrifices, a mirror of moral law, a source of the arts, a native home of virtue; a spring of the ambrosial sweetness of poetry, a mountain of sunrise to all his friends, [51] and a direful comet to all his foes. (9) He was, moreover, a founder of literary societies, a refuge for men of taste, a rejecter of haughty bowholders, a leader among the bold, a chief among the wise. He was a cause of gladness to the humble, as Vainateya [52] was to Vinata. He rooted up with the point of his bow the boundary-mountains of his foes as Prithuraja did the noble mountains. He mocked Krishna, also, for while the latter made his boast of his man-lion form, he himself smote down the hearts of his foes by his very name, and while Krishna wearied the universe with his three steps, he subdued the whole world by one heroic effort. Glory long dwelt on the watered edge of his sword, as if to wash off the stain of contact with a thousand base chieftains, which had clung to her too long. By the indwelling of Dharma in his mind, Yama in his wrath, Kuvera in his kindness, Agni in his splendour, Earth in his arm, Lakshmi in his glance, Sarasvati in his eloquence, (10) the Moon in his face, the Wind in his might, Brihaspati in his knowledge, Love in his beauty, the Sun in his glory, he resembled holy Narayana, whose nature manifests every form, and who is the very essence of deity. Royal glory came to him once for all, like a woman coming to meet her lover, on the nights of battle stormy with the showers of ichor from the elephants' temples, and stood by him in the midst of the darkness of thousands of coats of mail, loosened from the doors of the breasts of warriors. She seemed to be drawn irresistibly by his sword, which was uneven in its edge, by reason of the drops of water forced out by the pressure of his strong hand, and which was decked with large pearls clinging to it when he clove the frontal bones of wild elephants. The flame of his majesty burnt day and night, as if it were a fire within his foes' fair wives, albeit reft of their lords, as if he would destroy the husbands now only enshrined in their hearts. (11) While he, having subdued the earth, was guardian of the world, the only mixing of colour [53] was in painting; the only pulling of hair in caresses; the only strict fetters in the laws of poetry; the only care was concerning moral law; the only deception was in dreams; the only golden rods [54] were in umbrellas. Banners alone trembled; songs alone showed variations [55]; elephants alone were rampant; [56] bows alone had severed cords; [57] lattice windows alone had ensnaring network; lovers' disputes alone caused sending of messengers; dice and chessmen alone left empty squares; and his subjects had no deserted homes. Under him, too, there was only fear of the next world, only twisting in the curls of the zenana women, only loquacity in anklets, only taking the hand [58] in marriage, only shedding of tears from the smoke of ceaseless sacrificial fires; the only sound of the lash was for horses, while the only twang of the bow was Love's. (15) When the thousand-rayed sun, bursting open the young lotus-buds, had not long risen, though it had lost somewhat of the pinkness of dawn, a portress approached the king in his hall of audience, and humbly addressed him. Her form was lovely, yet awe-inspiring, and with the scimitar (a weapon rarely worn by women) hanging at her left side, was like a sandal-tree girt by a snake. Her bosom glistened with rich sandal ointment like the heavenly Ganges when the frontal-bone of Airavata rises from its waters. (16) The chiefs bent before her seemed, by her reflection on their crests, to bear her on their foreheads as a royal command in human form. Like autumn, [59] she was robed in the whiteness of hamsas; like the blade of Paraçurama she held the circle of kings in submission; like the forest land of the Vindhyas, she bore her wand, [60] and she seemed the very guardian-goddess of the realm. Placing on the ground her lotus hand and knee, she thus spake: 'Sire, there stands at the gate a Candala maiden from the South, a royal glory of the race of that Triçamku [61] who climbed the sky, but fell from it at the murmur of wrathful Indra. She bears a parrot in a cage, and bids me thus hail your majesty: "Sire, thou, like the ocean, art alone worthy to receive the treasures of the whole earth. In the thought that this bird is a marvel, and the treasure of the whole earth, I bring it to lay at thy feet, and desire to behold thee." (17) Thou, 0 king, hast heard her message, and must decide!' So saying, she ended her speech. The king, whose curiosity was aroused, looked at the chiefs around him, and with the words 'Why not? Bid her enter?' gave his permission. Then the portress, immediately on the king's order, ushered in the Candala maiden. And she entered and beheld the king in the midst of a thousand chiefs, like golden-peaked Meru in the midst of the noble mountains crouching together in fear of Indra's thunderbolt; or, in that the brightness of the jewels scattered on his dress almost concealed his form, like a day of storm, whereon the eight quarters of the globe are covered by Indra's thousand bows. He was sitting on a couch studded with moon-stones, beneath a small silken canopy, white as the foam of the rivers of heaven, with its four jewel-encrusted pillars joined by golden chains, and enwreathed with a rope of large pearls. Many cowries with golden handles waved around him; (18) his left foot rested on a footstool of crystal that was like the moon bent in humiliation before the flashing beauty of his countenance, and was adorned by the brightness of his feet, which yet were tinged with blue from the light rays of the sapphire pavement, as though darkened by the sighs of his conquered foes. His breast, crimsoned by the rubies which shone on his throne, recalled Krishna, red with blood from the fresh slaughter of Madhukaitabha; his two silken garments, white as the foam of ambrosia, with pairs of hamsas painted in yellow on their hem, waved in the wind raised by the cowries; the fragrant sandal unguent with which his chest was whitened, besprinkled with saffron ointment, was like snowy Kailasa with the early sunshine upon it; his face was encircled by pearls like stars mistaking it for the moon; the sapphire bracelets that clasped his arms were as a threat of chains to bind fickle fortune, or as snakes attracted by the smell of sandal-wood; (19) the lotus in his ear hung down slightly; his nose was aquiline, his eyes were like lotuses in full blossom, the hair grew in a circle between his brows, and was purified by the waters that inaugurated his possession of universal rule; his forehead was like a piece of the eighth-day moon made into a block of pure gold, garlanded with sweet jasmine, like the Western Mountain in the dawn with the stars growing pale on its brow. He was like the God of Love when struck by Çiva's fire, for his body was tawny from the colour of his ornaments. His hand-maidens surrounded him, as if they were the goddesses of the quarters of the globe come to worship him; the earth bore him, as on her heart, through loyalty, in the reflection of his image in her clear mosaic pavement; fortune seemed his alone, though by him she was given to all to enjoy. (20) He was without a second, though his followers were without number; he trusted only to his own sword, though he had countless elephants and horses in his retinue; he filled the whole earth, though he stood in a small space of ground; he rested only on his bow, and yet was seated on his throne; he shone with the flame of majesty, though all the fuel of his enemies was uprooted; he had large eyes, and yet saw the smallest things; he was the home of all virtues, and yet was overreaching; [62] he was beloved of his wives, and yet was a despotic lord; he was free from intoxication, though he had an unfailing stream of bounty; he was fair in nature, yet in conduct a Krishna; [63] he laid no heavy hand [64] on his subjects, and yet the whole world rested in his grasp. Such was this king. And she yet afar beholding him, with a hand soft as the petal of a red lotus, and surrounded by a tinkling bracelet, and clasping the bamboo with its end jagged, (21) struck once on the mosaic floor to arouse the king; and at the sound, in a moment the whole assemblage of chiefs turned their eyes from the king to her, like a herd of wild elephants at the falling of the cocoanut. Then the king, with the words, 'Look yonder,' to his suite, gazed steadily upon the Candala maiden, as she was pointed out by the portress. Before her went a man, whose hair was hoary with age, whose eyes were the colour of the red lotus, whose joints, despite the loss of youth, were firm from incessant labour, whose form, though that of a Matanga, was not to be despised, and who wore the white raiment meet for a court. Behind her went a Candala boy, with locks falling on either shoulder, bearing a cage, the bars of which, though of gold, shone like emerald from the reflection of the parrot's plumage. (22) She herself seemed by the darkness of her hue to imitate Krishna when he guilefully assumed a woman's attire to take away the amrita seized by the demons. She was, as it were, a doll of sapphire walking alone; and over the blue garment, which reached to her ankle, there fell a veil of red silk, like evening sunshine falling on blue lotuses. The circle of her cheek was whitened by the earring that hung from one ear, like the face of night inlaid with the rays of the rising moon; she had a tawny tilaka of gorocana, as if it were a third eye, like Parvati in mountaineer's attire, after the fashion of the garb of Çiva. She was like Çri, darkened by the sapphire glory of Narayana reflected on the robe on her breast; or like Rati, stained by smoke which rose as Madana was burnt by the fire of wrathful Çiva; or like Yamuna, fleeing in fear of being drawn along by the ploughshare of wild Balarama; or, from the rich lac that turned her lotus feet into budding shoots, like Durga, with her feet crimsoned by the blood of the Asura Mahisha she had just trampled upon. (23) Her nails were rosy from the pink glow of her fingers; the mosaic pavement seemed too hard for her touch, and she came forward, placing her feet like tender twigs upon the ground. The rays of her anklets, rising in flame-colour, seemed to encircle her as with the arms of Agni, as though, by his love for her beauty, he would purify the stain of her birth, and so set the Creator at naught. Her girdle was like the stars wreathed on the brow of the elephant of Love; and her necklace was a rope of large bright pearls, like the stream of Ganga just tinged by Yamuna. Like autumn, she opened her lotus eyes; like the rainy season, she had cloudy tresses; like the circle of the Malaya Hills, she was wreathed with sandal; (24) like the zodiac, she was decked with starry gems; [65] like Çri, she had the fairness of a lotus in her hand; like a swoon, she entranced the heart; like a forest, she was endowed with living [66] beauty; like the child of a goddess, she was claimed by no tribe; [67] like sleep, she charmed the eyes; as a lotus-pool in a wood is troubled by elephants, so was she dimmed by her Matanga [68] birth; like a spirit, she might not be touched; like a letter, she gladdened the eyes alone; like the blossoms of spring, she lacked the jati flower; [69] her slender waist, like the line of Love's bow, could be spanned by the hands; with her curly hair, she was like the Lakshmi of the Yaksha king in Alaka. [70] She had but reached the flower of her youth, and was beautiful exceedingly. And the king was amazed; and the thought arose in his mind, (25) 'Ill-placed was the labour of the Creator in producing this beauty! For if she has been created as though in mockery of her Candala form, such that all the world's wealth of loveliness is laughed to scorn by her own, why was she born in a race with which none can mate? Surely by thought alone did Prajapati create her, fearing the penalties of contact with the Matanga race, else whence this unsullied radiance, a grace that belongs not to limbs sullied by touch? Moreover, though fair in form, by the baseness of her birth, whereby she, like a Lakshmi of the lower world, is a perpetual reproach to the gods, [71] she, lovely as she is, causes fear in Brahma, the maker of so strange a union.' While the king was thus thinking the maiden, garlanded with flowers, that fell over her ears, bowed herself before him with a confidence beyond her years. And when she had made her reverence and stepped on to the mosaic floor, her attendant, taking the parrot, which had just entered the cage, advanced a few steps, and, showing it to the king, said: 'Sire, this parrot, by name Vaiçampayana, knows the meaning of all the çastras, is expert in the practice of royal policy, (26) skilled in tales, history, and Puranas, and acquainted with songs and with musical intervals. He recites, and himself composes graceful and incomparable modern romances, love-stories, plays, and poems, and the like; he is versed in witticisms, and is an unrivalled disciple of the vina, flute, and drum. He is skilled in displaying the different movements of dancing, dextrous in painting, very bold in play, ready in resources to calm a maiden angered in a lover's quarrel, and familiar with the characteristics of elephants, horses, men, and women. He is the gem of the whole earth; and in the thought that treasures belong to thee, as pearls to the ocean, the daughter of my lord has brought him hither to thy feet, O king! Let him be accepted as thine.' Having thus said, he laid the cage before the king and retired. (27) And when he was gone, the king of birds, standing before the king, and raising his right foot, having uttered the words, 'All hail!' recited to the king, in a song perfect in the enunciation of each syllable and accent, a verse [72] to this effect: 'The bosoms of your foemen's queens now mourn, Keeping a fast of widowed solitude, Bathed in salt tears, of pearl-wreaths all forlorn, Scorched by their sad hearts' too close neighbourhood.' And the king, having heard it, was amazed, and joyfully addressed his minister Kumarapalita, who sat close to him on a costly golden throne, like Brihaspati in his mastery of political philosophy, aged, of noble birth, first in the circle of wise councillors: 'Thou hast heard the bird's clear enunciation of consonants, and the sweetness of his intonation. This, in the first place, is a great marvel, that he should raise a song in which the syllables are clearly separated; and there is a combination of correctness with clearness in the vowels and anunasikas. (28) Then, again, we had something more than that: for in him, though a lower creation, are found the accomplishments, as it were, of a man, in a pleasurable art, and the course of his song is inspired by knowledge. For it was he who, with the cry, "All hail!" straightened his right foot and sang this song concerning me, whereas, generally, birds and beasts are only skilled in the science of fearing, eating, pairing, and sleeping. This is most wonderful.' And when the king had said this, Kumarapalita, with a slight smile, replied: 'Where is the wonder? For all kinds of birds, beginning with the parrot and the maina, repeat a sound once heard, as thou, O king, knowest; so it is no wonder that exceeding skill is produced either by the efforts of men, or in consequence of perfection gained in a former birth. Moreover, they formerly possessed a voice like that of men, with clear utterance. The indistinct speech of parrots, as well as the change in elephants' tongues, arose from a curse of Agni.' Hardly had he thus spoken when there arose the blast of the mid-day conch, following the roar of the drum distinctly struck at the completion of the hour, and announcing that the sun had reached the zenith. (29) And, hearing this, the king dismissed his band of chiefs, as the hour for bathing was at hand, and arose from his hall of audience. Then, as he started, the great chiefs thronged together as they rose, tearing their silk raiment with the leaf-work of their bracelets, as it fell from its place in the hurried movement. Their necklaces were swinging with the shock; the quarters of space were made tawny by showers of fragrant sandal-powder and saffron scattered from their limbs in their restlessness; the bees arose in swarms from their garlands of malati flowers, all quivering; their cheeks were caressed by the lotuses in their ears, half hanging down; their strings of pearls were trembling on their bosoms--each longed in his self-consciousness to pay his respects to the king as he departed. The hall of audience was astir on all sides with the sound of the anklets of the cowrie bearers as they disappeared in all directions, bearing the cowries on their shoulders, their gems tinkling at every step, broken by the cry of the kalahamsas, eager to drink the lotus honey; (30) with the pleasant music of the jewelled girdles and wreaths of the dancing-girls coming to pay their respects as they struck their breast and sides; with the cries of the kalahamsas of the palace lake, which, charmed by the sound of the anklets, whitened the broad steps of the hall of audience; with the voices of the tame cranes, eager for the sound of the girdles, screaming more and more with a prolonged outcry, like the scratching of bell-metal; with the heavy tramp on the floor of the hall of audience struck by the feet of a hundred neighbouring chiefs suddenly departing, which seemed to shake the earth like a hurricane; with the cry of 'Look!' from the wand-bearing ushers, who were driving the people in confusion before them, and shouting loudly, yet good-naturedly, 'Behold!' long and shrill, resounding far by its echo in the bowers of the palace; (31) with the ringing of the pavement as it was scratched by the points of diadems with their projecting aigrettes, as the kings swiftly bent till their trembling crest-gems touched the ground; with the tinkling of the earrings as they rang on the hard mosaic in their owners' obeisance; with the space-pervading din of the bards reciting auspicious verses, and coming forward with the pleasant continuous cry, 'Long life and victory to our king!'; with the hum of the bees as they rose up leaving the flowers, by reason of the turmoil of the hundreds of departing feet; with the clash of the jewelled pillars on which the gems were set jangling from being struck by the points of the bracelets as the chieftains fell hastily prostrate in their confusion. The king then dismissed the assembled chiefs, saying, 'Rest awhile'; and after saying to the Candala maiden, 'Let Vaiçampayana be taken into the inner apartments,' and giving the order to his betel-nut bearer, he went, accompanied by a few favourite princes, to his private apartments. There, laying aside his adornments, like the sun divested of his rays, or the sky bare of moon and stars, he entered the hall of exercise, where all was duly prepared. Having taken pleasant exercise therein with the princes of his own age, (32) he then entered the bathing-place, which was covered with a white canopy, surrounded by the verses of many a bard. It had a gold bath, filled with scented water in its midst, with a crystal bathing-seat placed by it, and was adorned with pitchers placed on one side, full of most fragrant waters, having their mouths darkened by bees attracted by the odour, as if they were covered with blue cloths, from fear of the heat. (33) Then the hand-maidens, some darkened by the reflection of their emerald jars, like embodied lotuses with their leafy cups, some holding silver pitchers, like night with a stream of light shed by the full moon, duly besprinkled the king. (34) Straightway there arose a blare of the trumpets sounded for bathing, penetrating all the hollows of the universe, accompanied by the din of song, lute, flute, drum, cymbal, and tabor, resounding shrilly in diverse tones, mingled with the uproar of a multitude of bards, and cleaving the path of hearing. Then, in due order, the king put upon him two white garments, light as a shed snake-skin, and wearing a turban, with an edge of fine silk, pure as a fleck of white cloud, like Himalaya with the stream of the heavenly river falling upon it, he made his libation to the Pitris with a handful of water, consecrated by a hymn, and then, prostrating himself before the sun, proceeded to the temple. When he had worshipped Çiva, and made an offering to Agni, (35) his limbs were anointed in the perfuming-room with sandal-wood, sweetened with the fragrance of saffron, camphor, and musk, the scent of which was followed by murmuring bees; he put on a chaplet of scented malati flowers, changed his garb, and, with no adornment save his jewelled earrings, he, together with the kings, for whom a fitting meal was prepared, broke his fast, with the pleasure that arises from the enjoyment of viands of sweet savour. Then, having drunk of a fragrant drug, rinsed his mouth, and taken his betel, he arose from his daïs, with its bright mosaic pavement. The portress, who was close by, hastened to him, and leaning on her arm, he went to the hall of audience, followed by the attendants worthy to enter the inner apartments, whose palms were like boughs, very hard from their firm grasp of their wands. The hall showed as though walled with crystal by reason of the white silk that draped its ends; the jewelled floor was watered to coolness with sandal-water, to which was added very fragrant musk; the pure mosaic was ceaselessly strewn with masses of blossoms, as the sky with its bevy of stars; (36) many a golden pillar shone forth, purified with scented water, and decked with countless images, as though with the household gods in their niches; aloe spread its fragrance richly; the whole was dominated by an alcove, which held a couch white as a cloud after storm, with a flower-scented covering, a pillow of fine linen at the head, castors encrusted with gems, and a jewelled footstool by its side, like the peak of Himalaya to behold. Reclining on this couch, while a maiden, seated on the ground, having placed in her bosom the dagger she was wont to bear, gently rubbed his feet with a palm soft as the leaves of fresh lotuses, the king rested for a short time, and held converse on many a theme with the kings, ministers, and friends whose presence was meet for that hour. He then bade the portress, who was at hand, to fetch Vaiçampayana from the women's apartments, for he had become curious to learn his story. And she, bending hand and knee to the ground, with the words 'Thy will shall be done!' taking the command on her head, fulfilled his bidding. (37) Soon Vaiçampayana approached the king, having his cage borne by the portress, under the escort of a herald, leaning on a gold staff, slightly bent, white robed, wearing a top-knot silvered with age, slow in gait, and tremulous in speech, like an aged flamingo in his love for the race of birds, who, placing his palm on the ground, thus delivered his message: 'Sire, the queens send thee word that by thy command this Vaiçampayana has been bathed and fed, and is now brought by the portress to thy feet.' Thus speaking, he retired, and the king asked Vaiçampayana: 'Hast thou in the interval eaten food sufficient and to thy taste?' 'Sire,' replied he, 'what have I not eaten? I have drunk my fill of the juice of the jambu fruit, aromatically sweet, pink and blue as a cuckoo's eye in the gladness of spring; I have cracked the pomegranate seeds, bright as pearls wet with blood, which lions' claws have torn from the frontal bones of elephants. I have torn at my will old myrobalans, green as lotus leaves, and sweet as grapes. (38) But what need of further words? For everything brought by the queens with their own hands turns to ambrosia.' And the king, rebuking his talk, said: 'Let all this cease for a while, and do thou remove our curiosity. Tell us from the very beginning the whole history of thy birth--in what country, and how wert thou born, and by whom was thy name given? Who were thy father and mother? How came thine attainment of the Vedas, and thine acquaintance with the Çastras, and thy skill in the fine arts? What caused thy remembrance of a former birth? Was it a special boon given thee? Or dost thou dwell in disguise, wearing the form only of a bird, and where didst thou formerly dwell? How old art thou, and how came this bondage of a cage, and the falling into the hands of a Candala maiden, and thy coming hither?' Thus respectfully questioned by the king, whose curiosity was kindled, Vaiçampayana thought a moment, and reverently replied, 'Sire, the tale is long; but if it is thy pleasure, let it be heard.' 'There is a forest, by name Vindhya, that embraces the shores of the eastern and western ocean, and decks the central region as though it were the earth's zone. (39) It is beauteous with trees watered with the ichor of wild elephants, and bearing on their crests masses of white blossom that rise to the sky and vie with the stars; in it the pepper-trees, bitten by ospreys in their spring gladness, spread their boughs; tamala branches trampled by young elephants fill it with fragrance; shoots in hue like the wine-flushed cheeks of Malabaris, as though roseate with lac from the feet of wandering wood-nymphs, overshadow it. Bowers there are, too, wet with drippings from parrot-pierced pomegranates; bowers in which the ground is covered with torn fruit and leaves shaken down by restless monkeys from the kakkola trees, or sprinkled with pollen from ever-falling blossoms, or strewn with couches of clove-branches by travellers, or hemmed in by fine cocoanuts, ketakis, kariras, and bakulas; bowers so fair that with their areca trees girt about with betel vines, they make a fitting home for a woodland Lakshmi. Thickly growing elas make the wood dark and fragrant, as with the ichor of wild elephants; (40) hundreds of lions, who meet their death from barbaric leaders eager to seize the pearls of the elephants' frontal-bones still clinging to their mouth and claws, roam therein; it is fearful as the haunt of death, like the citadel of Yama, and filled with the buffaloes dear to him; like an army ready for battle, it has bees resting on its arrow-trees, as the points on arrows, and the roar of the lion is clear as the lion-cry of onset; it has rhinoceros tusks dreadful as the dagger of Durga, and like her is adorned with red sandal-wood; like the story of Karnisuta, it has its Vipula, Acala and Çaça in the wide mountains haunted by hares, [73] that lie near it; as the twilight of the last eve of an aeon has the frantic dance of blue-necked Çiva, so has it the dances of blue-necked peacocks, and bursts into crimson; as the time of churning the ocean had the glory of Çri and the tree which grants all desires, and was surrounded by sweet draughts of Varuna, [74] so is it adorned by Çri trees and Varuna2 trees. It is densely dark, as the rainy season with clouds, and decked with pools in countless hundreds; [75] like the moon, it is always the haunt of the bears, and is the home of the deer. [76] (41) Like a king's palace, it is adorned by the tails of cowrie deer, [77] and protected by troops of fierce elephants. Like Durga, it is strong of nature, [78] and haunted by the lion. Like Sita, it has its Kuça, and is held by the wanderer of night. [79] Like a maiden in love, it wears the scent of sandal and musk, and is adorned with a tilaka of bright aloes; [80] like a lady in her lover's absence, it is fanned with the wind of many a bough, and possessed of Madana; [81] like a child's neck, it is bright with rows of tiger's-claws, [82] and adorned with a rhinoceros; [83] like a hall of revelry with its honeyed draughts, it has hundreds of beehives [84] visible, and is strewn with flowers. In parts it has a circle of earth torn up by the tusks of large boars, like the end of the world when the circle of the earth was lifted up by the tusks of Mahavaraha; here, like the city of Ravana, it is filled with lofty çalas [85] inhabited by restless monkeys; (42) here it is, like the scene of a recent wedding, bright with fresh kuça grass, fuel, flowers, acacia, and palaça; here, it seems to bristle in terror at the lions' roar; here, it is vocal with cuckoos wild for joy; here it is, as if in excitement, resonant with the sound of palms [86] in the strong wind; here, it drops its palm-leaves like a widow giving up her earrings; here, like a field of battle, it is filled with arrowy reeds; [87] here, like Indra's body, it has a thousand netras; [88] here, like Vishnu's form, it has the darkness of tamalas; [89] here, like the banner of Arjuna's chariot, it is blazoned with monkeys; here, like the court of an earthly king, it is hard of access, through the bamboos; here, like the city of King Virata, it is guarded by a Kicaka; [90] here, like the Lakshmi of the sky, it has the tremulous eyes of its deer pursued by the hunter; [91] here, like an ascetic, it has bark, bushes, and ragged strips and grass. [92] (43) Though adorned with Saptaparna, [93] it yet possesses leaves innumerable; though honoured by ascetics, it is yet very savage; [94] though in its season of blossom, it is yet most pure. 'In that forest there is a hermitage, famed throughout the world--a very birthplace of Dharma. It is adorned with trees tended by Lopamudra as her own children, fed with water sprinkled by her own hands, and trenched round by herself. She was the wife of the great ascetic Agastya; he it was who at the prayer of Indra drank up the waters of ocean, and who, when the Vindhya mountains, by a thousand wide peaks stretching to the sky in rivalry of Meru, were striving to stop the course of the sun's chariot, and were despising the prayers of all the gods, yet had his commands obeyed by them; who digested the demon Vatapi by his inward fire; who had the dust of his feet kissed by the tips of the gold ornaments on the crests of gods and demons; who adorned the brow of the Southern Region; and who manifested his majesty by casting Nahusha down from heaven by the mere force of his murmur. (44) 'The hermitage is also hallowed by Lopamudra's son Dridhadasyu, an ascetic, bearing his staff of palaça, [95] wearing a sectarial mark made of purifying ashes, clothed in strips of kuça grass, girt with muñja, holding a cup of green leaves in his roaming from hut to hut to ask alms. From the large supply of fuel he brought, he was surnamed by his father Fuelbearer. 'The place is also darkened in many a spot by green parrots and by plantain groves, and is girt by the river Godaveri, which, like a dutiful wife, followed the path of the ocean when drunk by Agastya. 'There, too, Rama, when he gave up his kingdom to keep his father's promise, dwelt happily for some time at Pañcavati with Sita, following the great ascetic Agastya, living in a pleasant hut made by Lakshmana, even Rama, the vexer of the triumphs of Ravana's glory. [96] 'There, even now, the trees, though the hermitage has long been empty, show, as it were, in the lines of white doves softly nestling in the boughs, the hermits' pure lines of sacrificial smoke clinging to them; and there a glow bursts forth on the shoots of creepers, as if it had passed to them from Sita's hand as she offered flowers of oblation; (45) there the water of ocean drunk and sent forth by the ascetic seems to have been wholly distributed among the great lakes round the hermitage; there the wood, with its fresh foliage, shines as if its roots had been watered with the blood of countless hosts of demons struck down by Rama's many keen shafts, and as if now its palaaças were stained with their crimson hue; there, even yet, the old deer nurtured by Sita, when they hear the deep roar of fresh clouds in the rainy season, think on the twang of Rama's bow penetrating all the hollows of the universe, and refuse their mouthfuls of fresh grass, while their eyes are dimmed by ceaseless tears, as they see a deserted world, and their own horns crumbling from age; there, too, the golden deer, as if it had been incited by the rest of the forest deer slain in the ceaseless chase, deceived Sita, and led the son of Raghu far astray; there, too, in their grief for the bitter loss of Sita, Rama and Lakshmana seized by Kabandha, like an eclipse of sun and moon heralding the death of Ravana, filled the universe with a mighty dread; (46) there, too, the arm of Yojanabahu, struck off by Rama's arrow, caused fear in the saints as it lay on the ground, lest it should be the serpent form of Nahusha, brought back by Agastya's curse; there, even now, foresters behold Sita painted inside the hut by her husband to solace his bereavement, as if she were again rising from the ground in her longing to see her husband's home. 'Not far from that hermitage of Agastya, of which the ancient history is yet clearly to be seen, is a lotus lake called Pampa. It stands near that hermitage, as if it were a second ocean made by the Creator in rivalry with Agastya, at the prompting of Varuna, wrathful at the drinking of ocean; it is like the sky fallen on earth to bind together the fragments of the eight quarters when severed in the day of doom. [97] (48) It is, indeed, a peerless home of waters, and its depth and extent none can tell. There, even now, the wanderer may see pairs of cakravakas, with their wings turned to blue by the gleam of the blossoming lotuses, as if they were swallowed up by the impersonate curse of Rama. 'On the left bank of that lake, and near a clump of palms broken by Rama's arrows, was a large old çalmali tree. [98] It shows as though it were enclosed in a large trench, because its roots are always encircled by an old snake, like the trunk of the elephants of the quarters; (49) it seems to be mantled with the slough of serpents, which hangs on its lofty trunk and waves in the wind; it strives to compass the measurement of the circle of space by its many boughs spreading through the firmament, and so to imitate Çiva, whose thousand arms are outstretched in his wild dance at the day of doom, and who wears the moon on his crest. Through its weight of years, it clings for support even to the shoulder of the wind; it is girt with creepers that cover its whole trunk, and stand out like the thick veins of old age. Thorns have gathered on its surface like the moles of old age; not even the thick clouds by which its foliage is bedewed can behold its top, when, after drinking the waters of ocean, they return from all sides to the sky, and pause for a moment, weary with their load of water, like birds amongst its boughs. From its great height, it seems to be on tiptoe to look [99] at the glory of the Nandana [100] Wood; its topmost branches are whitened by cotton, which men might mistake for foam dropped from the corners of their mouths by the sun's steeds as, beset with weariness of their path through the sky, they come near it in their course overhead; (50) it has a root that will last for an aeon, for, with the garland of drunken bees sticking to the ichor which clings to it where the cheeks of woodland elephants are rubbed against it, it seems to be held motionless by iron chains; it seems alive with swarms of bees, flashing in and out of its hollow trunk. It beholds the alighting of the wings of birds, as Duryodhana receives proofs of Çakuni's [101] partizanship; like Krishna, it is encircled by a woodland chaplet; [102] like a mass of fresh clouds its rising is seen in the sky. It is a temple whence woodland goddesses can look out upon the whole world. It is the king of the Dandaka Wood, the leader of the lordly trees, the friend of the Vindhya Mountains, and it seems to embrace with the arms of its boughs the whole Vindhya Forest. There, on the edge of the boughs, in the centre of the crevices, amongst the twigs, in the joints of the trunks, in the holes of the rotten bark, flocks of parrots have taken their abode. From its spaciousness, they have confidently built in it their thousand nests; from its steepness, they have come to it fearlessly from every quarter. Though its leaves are thin with age, this lord of the forest still looks green with dense foliage, as they rest upon it day and night. (51) In it they spend the nights in their own nests, and daily, as they rise, they form lines in the sky; they show in heaven like Yamuna with her wide streams scattered by the tossing of Bala's ploughshare in his passion; they suggest a lotus-bed of the heavenly Ganges flowing away, uprooted by the elephant of heaven; they show forth a sky streaked, as it were, with the brightness of the steeds of the sun's chariot; they wear the semblance of a moving floor of emerald; they stretch out in the lake of heaven like long twines of Vallisneria; they fan the faces of the quarters wearied with the mass of the sun's keen rays, with their wings spread against the sky like plantain leaves; they form a grassy path stretching through the heaven, and as they roam they grace the firmament with a rainbow. After their meal they return to the young birds which stay in the nest, and give them, from beaks pink as tiger's claws reddened with the blood of slain deer, the juice of fruits and many a dainty morsel of rice-clusters, for by their deep love to their children all their other likings are subdued; (52) then they spend the night in this same tree with their young under their wings. 'Now my father, who by reason of his great age barely dragged on his life, dwelt with my mother in a certain old hollow, and to him I was, by the decree of Fate, born as his only son. My mother, overcome by the pains of child-birth when I was born, went to another world, and, in spite of his grief for the death of his loved wife, my father, from love to his child, checked the keen onrush of his sorrow, and devoted himself in his loneliness wholly to my nurture. From his great age, the wide wings he raised had lost their power of flight, and hung loose from his shoulders, so that when he shook them he seemed to be trying to shake off the painful old age that clung to his body, while his few remaining tail feathers were broken like a tatter of kuça grass; and yet, though he was unable to wander far, he gathered up bits of fruit torn down by parrots and fallen at the foot of the tree, and picked up grains of rice from rice-stalks that had fallen from other nests, with a beak the point of which was broken and the edge worn away and rubbed by breaking rice-clusters, and pink as the stalk of the sephalika flower when still hard, and he daily made his own meal on what I left. (53) 'But one day I heard a sound of the tumult of the chase. The moon, reddened by the glow of dawn, was descending to the shore of the Western Ocean, from the island of the heavenly Ganges, like an old hamsa with its wings reddened by the honey of the heavenly lotus-bed; the circle of space was widening, and was white as the hair of a ranku deer; the throng of stars, like flowers strewn on the pavement of heaven, were being cast away by the sun's long rays, as if they were brooms of rubies, for they were red as a lion's mane dyed in elephant's blood, or pink as sticks of burning lac; the cluster of the Seven Sages was, as it were, descending the bank of the Manasa Lake, and rested on the northern quarter to worship the dawn; the Western Ocean was lifting a mass of pearls, scattered from open shells on its shore, as though the stars, melted by the sun's rays, had fallen on it, whitening the surface of its alluvial islands. The wood was dropping dew; its peacocks were awake; its lions were yawning; (54) its wild elephants were wakened by herds of she-elephants, and it, with its boughs raised like reverential hands, sent up towards the sun, as he rested on the peak of the Eastern Mountain, a mass of flowers, the filaments of which were heavy with the night dews. The lines of sacrificial smoke from the hermitages, gray as the hair of an ass, were gleaming like banners of holiness, and rested like doves on the tree-tops whereon the wood-nymphs dwelt. The morning breeze was blowing, and roamed softly, for it was weary at the end of night; it gladdened swarms of bees by the flowers' perfume; it rained showers of honey dew from the opened lotuses; it was eager to teach the dancing creepers with their waving boughs; it carried drops of foam from the rumination of woodland buffaloes; it removed the perspiration of the weary mountaineers; it shook the lotuses, and bore with it the dewdrops. The bees, who ought to be the drums on the elephant's frontal-bones to recite auspicious songs for the wakening of the day lotus-groves, now sent up their hum from the hearts of the night-lotuses, as their wings were clogged in the closing petals; (55) the deer of the wood had the markings on their breast, gray with resting on the salt ground, and slowly opened eyes, the pupils of which were still squinting with the remains of sleep, and were caught by the cool morning breeze as if their eyelashes were held together by heated lac; foresters were hastening hither and thither; the din of the kalahamsas on the Pampa Lake, sweet to the ear, was now beginning; the pleasant flapping of the wild elephant's ears breaking forth caused the peacocks to dance; in time the sun himself slowly arose, and wandered among the tree-tops round the Pampa Lake, and haunted the mountain peaks, with rays of madder, like a mass of cowries bending downwards from the sun's elephant as he plunges into the sky; the fresh light sprung from the sun banished the stars, falling on the wood like the monkey king who had again lost Tara; [103] the morning twilight became visible quickly, occupying the eighth part of the day, and the sun's light became clear. 'The troops of parrots had all started to the places they desired; that tree seemed empty by reason of the great stillness, though it had all the young parrots resting quietly in their nests. (56) My father was still in his own nest, and I, as from my youth my wings were hardly fledged and had no strength, was close to him in the hollow, when I suddenly heard in that forest the sound of the tumult of the chase. It terrified every woodland creature; it was drawn out by a sound of birds' wings flying hastily up; it was mingled with cries from the frightened young elephants; it was increased by the hum of drunken bees, disturbed on the shaken creepers; it was loud with the noise of wild boars roaming with raised snouts; it was swollen by the roar of lions wakened from their sleep in mountain caves; it seemed to shake the trees, and was great as the noise of the torrents of Ganges, when brought down by Bhagiratha; and the woodland nymphs listened to it in terror. 'When I heard this strange sound I began to tremble in my childishness; the cavity of my ear was almost broken; I shook for fear, and thinking that my father, who was close by, could help me, I crept within his wings, loosened as they were by age. 'Straightway I heard an outcry of "Hence comes the scent of the lotus beds the leaders of the elephants have trampled! Hence the perfume of rushes the boars have chewed! Hence the keen fragrance of gum-olibanum the young elephants have divided! Hence the rustling of dry leaves shaken down! (57) Hence the dust of antheaps that the horns of wild buffaloes have cleft like thunderbolts! Hence came a herd of deer! Hence a troop of wild elephants! Hence a band of wild boars! Hence a multitude of wild buffaloes! Hence the shriek of a circle of peacocks! Hence the murmur of partridges! Hence the cry of ospreys! Hence the groan of elephants with their frontal bones torn by lion's claws! This is a boar's path stained with fresh mud! This a mass of foam from the rumination of deer, darkened by the juice of mouthfuls of grass just eaten! This the hum of bees garrulous as they cling to the scent left by the rubbing of elephants' foreheads with ichor flowing! That the path of the ruru deer pink with withered leaves bedewed with blood that has been shed. That is a mass of shoots on the trees crushed by the feet of elephants! Those are the gambols of rhinoceroses; that is the lion's track jagged with pieces of the elephant's pearls, pink with blood, and engraved with a monstrous device by their claws; that is the earth crimsoned with the blood of the newly born offspring of the does; that is the path, like a widow's braid, darkened with the ichor of the lord of the herd wandering at his will! Follow this row of yaks straight before us! Quickly occupy this part of the wood where the dung of the deer is dried! (58) Climb the tree-top! Look out in this direction! Listen to this sound! Take the bow! Stand in your places! Let slip the hounds!" The wood trembled at the tumult of the hosts of men intent on the chase shouting to each other and concealed in the hollows of the trees. 'Then that wood was soon shaken on all sides by the roar of lions struck by the Çabaras' arrows, deepened by its echo rebounding from the hollows of the mountains, and strong as the sound of a drum newly oiled; by the roar from the throats of the elephants that led the herd, like the growl of thunder, and mixed with the ceaseless lashing of their trunks, as they came on alone, separated from the frightened herd; by the piteous cry of the deer, with their tremulous, terrified eyes, when the hounds suddenly tore their limbs; by the yell of she-elephants lengthening in grief for the death of their lord and leader, as they wandered every way with ears raised, ever pausing to listen to the din, bereft of their slain leaders and followed by their young; (59) by the bellowing of she-rhinoceroses seeking with outstretched necks their young, only born a few days before, and now lost in the panic; by the outcry of birds flying from the tree-tops, and wandering in confusion; by the tramp of herds of deer with all the haste of limbs made for speed, seeming to make the earth quake as it was struck simultaneously by their hurrying feet; by the twang of bows drawn to the ear, mingled, as they rained their arrows, with the cry from the throats of the loving she-ospreys; by the clash of swords with their blades whizzing against the wind and falling on the strong shoulders of buffaloes; and by the baying of the hounds which, as it was suddenly sent forth, penetrated all the recesses of the wood. 'When soon afterwards the noise of the chase was stilled and the wood had become quiet, like the ocean when its water was stilled by the ceasing of the churning, or like a mass of clouds silent after the rainy season, I felt less of fear and became curious, and so, moving a little from my father's embrace, (60) I stood in the hollow, stretched out my neck, and with eyes that, from my childishness, were yet tremulous with fear, in my eagerness to see what this thing was, I cast my glance in that direction. 'Before me I saw the Çabara [104] army come out from the wood like the stream of Narmada tossed by Arjuna's [105] thousand arms; like a wood of tamalas stirred by the wind; like all the nights of the dark fortnight rolled into one; like a solid pillar of antimony shaken by an earthquake; like a grove of darkness disturbed by sunbeams; like the followers of death roaming; like the demon world that had burst open hell and risen up; like a crowd of evil deeds come together; like a caravan of curses of the many hermits dwelling in the Dandaka Forest; like all the hosts of Dushana [106] and Khara struck by Rama as he rained his ceaseless shafts, and they turned into demons for their hatred to him; like the whole confraternity of the Iron Age come together; like a band of buffaloes prepared for a plunge into the water; like a mass of black clouds broken by a blow from a lion's paw as he stands on the mountain peak; [107] like a throng of meteors risen for the destruction of all form; it darkened the wood; it numbered many thousands; it inspired great dread; it was like a multitude of demons portending disasters. (61) 'And in the midst of that great host of Çabaras I beheld the Çabara leader, Matanga by name. He was yet in early youth; from his great hardness he seemed made of iron; he was like Ekalavya [108] in another birth; from his growing beard, he was like a young royal elephant with its temples encircled by its first line of ichor; he filled the wood with beauty that streamed from him sombre as dark lotuses, like the waters of Yamuna; he had thick locks curled at the ends and hanging on his shoulders, like a lion with its mane stained by elephant's ichor; his brow was broad; his nose was stern and aquiline; his left side shone reddened by the faint pink rays of a jewelled snake's hood that was made the ornament for one of his ears, like the glow of shoots that had clung to him from his resting on a leafy couch; he was perfumed with fragrant ichor, bearing the scent of saptacchada blossoms torn from the cheeks of an elephant freshly slain, like a stain of black aloes; (62) he had the heat warded off by a swarm of bees, like a peacock-feather parasol, flying about blinded by the scent, as if they were a branch of tamala; he was marked with lines of perspiration on his cheek rubbed by his hand, as if Vindhya Forest, being conquered by his strong arm, were timidly offering homage under the guise of its slender waving twigs, and he seemed to tinge space by his eye somewhat pink, as if it were bloodshot, and shedding a twilight of the night of doom for the deer; he had mighty arms reaching to his knees, as if the measure of an elephant's trunk had been taken in making them, and his shoulders were rough with scars from keen weapons often used to make an offering of blood to Kali; the space round his eyes was bright and broad as the Vindhya Mountain, and with the drops of dried deer's blood clinging on it, and the marking of drops of perspiration, as if they were adorned by large pearls from an elephant's frontal bone mixed with guñja fruit; his chest was scarred by constant and ceaseless fatigue; he was clad in a silk dress red with cochineal, and with his strong legs he mocked a pair of elephants' posts stained with elephants' ichor; he seemed from his causeless fierceness to have been marked on his dread brow by a frown that formed three banners, as if Durga, propitiated by his great devotion, had marked him with a trident to denote that he was her servant. (63) He was accompanied by hounds of every colour, which were his familiar friends; they showed their weariness by tongues that, dry as they were, seemed by their natural pinkness to drip deer's blood, and which hung down far from tiredness; as their mouths were open they raised the corners of their lips and showed their flashing teeth clearly, like a lion's mane caught between the teeth; their throats were covered with strings of cowries, and they were hacked by blows from the large boars' tusks; though but small, from their great strength they were like lions' cubs with their manes ungrown; they were skilled in initiating the does in widowhood; with them came their wives, very large, like lionesses coming to beg an amnesty for the lions. He was surrounded by troops of Çabaras of all kinds: some had seized elephants' tusks and the long hair of yaks; some had vessels for honey made of leaves closely bound; some, like lions, had hands filled with many a pearl from the frontal bones of elephants; some, like demons, had pieces of raw flesh; some, like goblins, were carrying the skins of lions; some, like Jain ascetics, held peacocks' tails; some, like children, wore crows' feathers; [109] some represented Krishna's [110] exploits by bearing the elephants' tusks they had torn out; (64) some, like the days of the rainy season, had garments dark as clouds. [111] He had his sword-sheath, as a wood its rhinoceroses; [112] like a fresh cloud, he held a bow [113] bright as peacocks' tails; like the demon Vaka, [114] he possessed a peerless army; like Garuda, he had torn out the teeth of many large nagas; [115] he was hostile to peacocks, as Bhishma to Çikhandi; [116] like a summer day, he always showed a thirst for deer; [117] like a heavenly genius, he was impetuous in pride; [118] as Vyasa followed Yojanagandha, [119] so did he follow the musk deer; like Ghatotkaca, he was dreadful in form; [120] as the locks of Uma were decked with Çiva's moon, so was he adorned with the eyes in the peacocks' tails; [121] as the demon Hiranyakaçipu [122] by Mahavaraha, so he had his breast torn by the teeth of a great boar; (65) like an ambitious man, [123] he had a train of captives around him; like a demon, he loved [124] the hunters; like the gamut of song, he was closed in by Nishadas; [125] like the trident of Durga, he was wet with the blood of buffaloes; though quite young, he had seen many lives pass; [126] though he had many hounds, [127] he lived on roots and fruits; though of Krishna's hue, [128] he was not good to look on; though he wandered at will, his mountain fort [129] was his only refuge; though he always lived at the foot of a lord of earth, [130] he was unskilled in the service of a king. 'He was as the child of the Vindhya Mountains, the partial avatar of death; the born brother of wickedness, the essence of the Iron Age; horrible as he was, he yet inspired awe by reason of his natural greatness, [131] and his form could not be surpassed. [132] His name I afterwards learnt. In my mind was this thought: "Ah, the life of these men is full of folly, and their career is blamed by the good. (66) For their one religion is offering human flesh to Durga; their meat, mead, and so forth, is a meal loathed by the good; their exercise is the chase; their çastra [133] is the cry of the jackal; their teachers of good and evil are owls; [134] their knowledge is skill in birds; [135] their bosom friends are dogs; their kingdom is in deserted woods; their feast is a drinking bout; their friends are the bows that work their cruel deeds, and arrows, with their heads smeared, like snakes, with poison, are their helpers; their song is what draws on bewildered deer; their wives are the wives of others taken captive; their dwelling is with savage tigers; their worship of the gods is with the blood of beasts, their sacrifice with flesh, their livelihood by theft; the snakes' hood is their ornament; their cosmetic, elephants' ichor; and the very wood wherein they may dwell is utterly destroyed root and branch." 'As I was thus thinking, the Çabara leader, desiring to rest after his wandering through the forest, approached, and, laying his bow in the shade beneath that very cotton-tree, sat down on a seat of twigs gathered hastily by his suite. (67) Another youthful Çabara, coming down hastily, brought to him from the lake, when he had stirred its waters with his hand, some water aromatic with lotus-pollen, and freshly-plucked bright lotus-fibres with their mud washed off; the water was like liquid lapis lazuli, or showed as if it were painted with a piece of sky fallen from the heat of the sun's rays in the day of doom, or had dropped from the moon's orb, or were a mass of melted pearl, or as if in its great purity it was frozen into ice, and could only be distinguished from it by touch. After drinking it, the Çabara in turn devoured the lotus-fibres, as Rahu does the moon's digits; when he was rested he rose, and, followed by all his host, who had satisfied their thirst, he went slowly to his desired goal. But one old Çabara from that barbarous troop had got no deer's flesh, and, with a demoniac [136] expression coming into his face in his desire for meat, he lingered a short time by that tree. (68) As soon as the Çabara leader had vanished, that old Çabara, with eyes pink as drops of blood and terrible with their overhanging tawny brows, drank in, as it were, our lives; he seemed to reckon up the number in the parrots' nests like a falcon eager to taste bird's flesh, and looked up the tree from its foot, wishing to climb it. The parrots seemed to have drawn their last breath at that very moment in their terror at the sight of him. For what is hard for the pitiless? So he climbed the tree easily and without effort, as if by ladders, though it was as high as many palms, and the tops of its boughs swept the clouds, and plucked the young parrots from among its boughs one by one, as if they were its fruit, for some were not yet strong for flight; some were only a few days old, and were pink with the down of their birth, so that they might almost be taken for cotton-flowers; [137] some, with their wings just sprouting, were like fresh lotus-leaves; some were like the Asclepias fruit; some, with their beaks growing red, had the grace of lotus-buds with their heads rising pink from slowly unfolding leaves; while some, under the guise of the ceaseless motion of their heads, seemed to try to forbid him, though they could not stop him, for he slew them and cast them on the ground. (69) 'But my father, seeing on a sudden this great, destructive, remediless, overwhelming calamity that had come on us, trembled doubly, and, with pupils quivering and wandering from fear of death, cast all round a glance that grief had made vacant and tears had dimmed; his palate was dry, and he could not help himself, but he covered me with his wing, though its joints were relaxed by fear, and bethought himself of what help could avail at such a moment. Swayed wholly by love, bewildered how to save me, and puzzled what to do, he stood, holding me to his breast. That miscreant, however, wandering among the boughs, came to the entrance of the hollow, and stretched out his left arm, dreadful as the body of an old black snake, with its hand redolent of the raw fat of many boars, and its forearm marked with weals from ceaseless drawing of the bowstrings, like the wand of death; and though my father gave many a blow with his beak, and moaned piteously, that murderous wretch dragged him down and slew him. (70) Me, however, he somehow did not notice, though I was within the wings, from my being small and curled into a ball from fear, and from my not having lived my fated life, but he wrung my father's neck and threw him dead upon the ground. Meanwhile I, with my neck between my father's feet, clinging quietly to his breast, fell with him, and, from my having some fated life yet to live, I found that I had fallen on a large mass of dry leaves, heaped together by the wind, so that my limbs were not broken. While the Çabara was getting down from the tree-top, I left my father, like a heartless wretch, though I should have died with him; but, from my extreme youth, I knew not the love that belongs to a later age, and was wholly swayed by the fear that dwells in us from birth; I could hardly be seen from the likeness of my colour to the fallen leaves; I tottered along with the help of my wings, which were just beginning to grow, thinking that I had escaped from the jaws of death, and came to the foot of a very large tamala tree close by. Its shoots were fitted to be the earrings of Çabara women, as if it mocked the beauty of Vishnu's body by the colour of Balarama's dark-blue robe, (71) or as if it were clad in pure strips of the water of Yamuna; its twigs were watered by the ichor of wild elephants; it bore the beauty of the tresses of the Vindhya Forest; the space between its boughs was dark even by day; [138] the ground round its root was hollow, and unpierced by the sun's rays; and I entered it as if it were the bosom of my noble father. Then the Çabara came down and gathered up the tiny parrots scattered on the ground; he bound them hastily in a basket of leaves with a coil of creepers, and going off with hasty steps by the path trodden by his leader, he made for that region. I meanwhile had begun to hope for life, but my heart was dried up with grief for my father's recent death; my body was in pain from my long fall, and I was possessed by a violent thirst, caused by fright, which tortured all my limbs. Then I thought, "The villain has now gone some way," so I lifted my head a little and gazed around with eyes tremulous with fear, thinking even when a blade of grass moved that the wretch was coming back. I watched him go step by step, and then, leaving the root of the tamala tree, I made a great effort to creep near the water. (72) My steps were feeble, because my wings were not yet grown, and again and again I fell on my face; I supported myself on one wing; I was weak with the weariness [139] of creeping along the ground, and from my want of practice; after each step I always lifted my head and panted hard, and as I crept along I became gray with dust. "Truly even in the hardest trials," I reflected, "living creatures never become careless of life. Nothing in this world is dearer to all created beings than life, seeing that when my honoured father, of well-chosen name, is dead, I still live with senses unimpaired! Shame on me that I should be so pitiless, cruel, and ungrateful! For my life goes on shamefully in that the grief of my father's death is so easily borne. I regard no kindness; truly my heart is vile! I have even forgotten how, when my mother died, my father restrained his bitter grief, and from the day of my birth, old as he was, reckoned lightly in his deep love the great toil of bringing me up with every care. And yet in a moment I have forgotten how I was watched over by him! (73) Most vile is this breath of mine which goes not straightway forth to follow my father on his path, my father, that was so good to me! Surely there is none that thirst of life does not harden, if the longing for water can make me take trouble in my present plight. Methinks this idea of drinking water is purely hardness of heart, because I think lightly of the grief of my father's death. Even now the lake is still far off. For the cry of the kalahamsas, like the anklets of a water-nymph, is still far away; the cranes' notes are yet dim; the scent of the lotus-bed comes rarely through the space it creeps through, because the distance is great; noontide is hard to bear, for the sun is in the midst of heaven, and scatters with his rays a blazing heat, unceasing, like fiery dust, and makes my thirst worse; the earth with its hot thick dust is hard to tread; my limbs are unable to go even a little way, for they are weary with excessive thirst; I am not master of myself; (74) my heart sinks; my eyes are darkened. O that pitiless fate would now bring that death which yet I desire not!" Thus I thought; but a great ascetic named Jabali dwelt in a hermitage not far from the lake, and his son Harita, a youthful hermit, was coming down to the lotus-lake to bathe. He, like the son of Brahma, had a mind purified with all knowledge; he was coming by the very path where I was with many holy youths of his own age; like a second sun, his form was hard to see from its great brightness; he seemed to have dropped [140] from the rising sun, and to have limbs fashioned from lightning and a shape painted with molten gold; he showed the beauty of a wood on fire, or of day with its early sunlight, by reason of the clear tawny splendour of his form flashing out; he had thick matted locks hanging on his shoulders red as heated iron, and pure with sprinkling from many a sacred pool; his top-knot was bound as if he were Agni in the false guise of a young Brahman in his desire to burn the Khandava Wood; [141] he carried a bright crystal rosary hanging from his right ear, like the anklets of the goddesses of the hermitage, and resembling the circle of Dharma's commandments, made to turn aside all earthly joys; (75) he adorned his brow with a tripundraka [142] mark in ashes, as if with threefold truth; [143] he laid his left hand on a crystal pitcher with its neck held ever upwards as if to look at the path to heaven, like a crane gazing upwards to the sky; he was covered by a black antelope skin hanging from his shoulders, like thick smoke that was coming out again after being swallowed [144] in thirst for penance, with pale-blue [145] lustre; he wore on his left shoulder a sacrificial thread, which seemed from its lightness to be fashioned from very young lotus-fibres, and wavered in the wind as if counting the framework of his fleshless ribs; he held in his right hand an ashadha [146] staff, having on its top a leafy basket full of creeper-blossoms gathered for the worship of Çiva; he was followed by a deer from the hermitage, still bearing the clay of the bathing-place dug up by its horns, quite at home with the hermits, fed on mouthfuls of rice, and letting its eyes wander on all sides to the kuça grass flowers and creepers. Like a tree, he was covered with soft bark; [147] like a mountain, he was surrounded by a girdle; [148] like Rahu, he had often tasted Soma; [149] like a day lotus-bed, he drank the sun's rays; (76) like a tree by the river's side, his tangled locks were pure with ceaseless washing; like a young elephant, his teeth were white as [150] pieces of moon-lotus petals; like Drauni, he had Kripa [151] ever with him; like the zodiac, he was adorned by having the hide [152] of the dappled deer; like a summer day, he was free from darkness; [153] like the rainy season, he had allayed the blinding dust of passion; [154] like Varuna, he dwelt on the waters; [155] like Krishna, he had banished the fear of hell; [156] like the beginning of twilight, he had eyes tawny as the glow of dawn; [157] like early morn, he was gilded with fresh sunlight; like the chariot of the sun, he was controlled in his course; [158] like a good king, he brought to nought the secret guiles of the foe; [159] (77) like the ocean, his temples were cavernous with meditation; [160] like Bhagiratha, he had often beheld the descent of Ganges; [161] like a bee, he had often tasted life in a water-engirt wood; [162] though a woodsman, he yet entered a great home; [163] though unrestrained, he longed for release; [164] though intent on works of peace, he bore the rod; [165] though asleep, he was yet awake; [166] though with two well-placed eyes, he had his sinister eye abolished. [167] Such was he who approached the lotus-lake to bathe. 'Now the mind of the good is ever wont to be compassionate and kind instinctively. Wherefore he, seeing my plight, was filled with pity, and said to another young ascetic standing near: (78) "This little half-fledged parrot has somehow fallen from the top of that tree, or perhaps from a hawk's mouth. For, owing to his long fall, he has hardly any life left; his eyes are closed, and he ever falls on his face and pants violently, and opens his beak, nor can he hold up his neck. Come, then, take him before his breath deserts him. Carry him to the water." So saying, he had me taken to the edge of the lake; and, coming there, he laid down his staff and pitcher near the water, and, taking me himself, just when I had given up all effort, he lifted up my head, and with his finger made me drink a few drops of water; and when I had been sprinkled with water and had gained fresh breath, he placed me in the cool wet shade of a fresh lotus-leaf growing on the bank, and went through the wonted rites of bathing. After that, he purified himself by often holding his breath, and murmuring the cleansing aghamarshana [168], and then he arose and, with upraised face, made an offering to the sun with freshly-plucked red lotuses in a cup of lotus-leaves. Having taken a pure white robe, so that he was like the glow of evening sunlight accompanied by the moon's radiance, he rubbed his hair with his hands till it shone, and, (79) followed by the band of ascetic youths, with their hair yet wet from recent bathing, he took me and went slowly towards the penance grove. 'And after going but a short way, I beheld the penance grove, hidden in thick woods rich in flowers and fruit. (80) 'Its precincts were filled by munis entering on all sides, followed by pupils murmuring the Vedas, and bearing fuel, kuça grass, flowers, and earth. There the sound of the filling of the pitchers was eagerly heard by the peacocks; there appeared, as it were, a bridge to heaven under the guise of smoke waving to exalt to the gods the muni race while yet in the body by fires satisfied with the ceaseless offering of ghee; all round were tanks with their waves traversed by lines of sunbeams stainless as though from contact with the hermits they rested upon, plunged into by the circle of the Seven Rishis who had come to see their penance, and lifting by night an open moon-lotus-bed, like a cluster of constellations descending to honour the rishis; the hermitage received homage from woodland creepers with their tops bent by the wind, and from trees with their ever-falling blossoms, and was worshipped by trees with the añjali of interlaced boughs; parched grain was scattered in the yards round the huts, and the fruit of the myrobalan, lavali, jujube, banana, bread-tree, mango, panasa, [169] and palm pressed on each other; (81) the young Brahmans were eloquent in reciting the Vedas; the parrot-race was garrulous with the prayer of oblation that they learnt by hearing it incessantly; the subrahmanya [170] was recited by many a maina; the balls of rice offered to the deities were devoured by the cocks of the forest, and the offering of wild rice was eaten by the young kalahamsas of the tanks close by. The eating-places of the sages were protected from pollution by ashes cast round them. (82) The fire for the munis' homa sacrifice was fanned by the tails of their friends the peacocks; the sweet scent of the oblation prepared with nectar, the fragrance of the half-cooked sacrificial cake was spread around; the crackling of flames in the offering of a stream of unbroken libations made the place resonant; a host of guests was waited upon; the Pitris were honoured; Vishnu, Çiva, and Brahma were worshipped. The performance of çraddha rites was taught; the science of sacrifice explained; the çastras of right conduct examined; good books of every kind recited; and the meaning of the çastras pondered. Leafy huts were being begun; courts smeared with paste, and the inside of the huts scrubbed. Meditation was being firmly grasped, mantras duly carried out, yoga practised, and offerings made to woodland deities. Brahmanical girdles of muñja grass were being made, bark garments washed, fuel brought, deer-skins decked, grass gathered, lotus-seed dried, rosaries strung, and bamboos laid in order for future need. [171] Wandering ascetics received hospitality, and pitchers were filled. (84) 'There defilement is found in the smoke of the oblations, not in evil conduct; redness of face in parrots, not in angry men; sharpness in blades of grass, not in dispositions; wavering in plantain-leaves, not in minds; red eyes [172] in cuckoos alone; clasping of necks with pitchers only; binding of girdles in vows, not in quarrels; pakshapata [173] in cocks, not in scientific discussions; wandering in making the sunwise turn round the soma fire, but not error in the çastras; mention of the Vasus in legends, but not longing for wealth; counting of beads for Rudra, but no account made of the body; loss of locks by the saints in the practice of sacrifice, but not loss of their children [174] by death; propitiation of Rama by reciting the Ramayana, not of women [175] by youth; wrinkles brought on by old age, not by pride of riches; the death of a Çakuni [176] in the Mahabharata only; only in the Purana windy talk; [177] in old age only loss of teeth; [178] coldness only in the park sandal-trees; [179] (85) in fires only turning to ashes; [180] only deer love to hear song; only peacocks care for dancing; only snakes wear hoods; [181] only monkeys desire fruit; [182] only roots have a downward tendency. (85-89, condensed) 'There, beneath the shade of a red açoka-tree, beauteous with new oblations of flowers, purified with ointment of fresh gomaya, garlanded with kuça grass and strips of bark tied on by the hermitage maidens, I saw the holy Jabali surrounded by most ascetic sages, like time by æons, the last day by suns, the sacrifice by bearers of the three fires, [183] the golden mountain by the noble hills, or the earth by the oceans. (89) 'And as I looked on him I thought: "Ah! how great is the power of penance! His form, calm as it is, yet pure as molten gold, overpowers, like lightning, the brightness of the eye with its brilliance. Though ever tranquil, it inspires fear at first approach by its inherent majesty. The splendour of even those ascetics who have practised but little asceticism is wont to be easily provoked, like fire swiftly falling on dry reeds, kaça grass, or flowers. (90) How much more, then, that of holy men like these, whose feet are honoured by the whole world, whose stains are worn away by penance, who look with divine insight on the whole earth as if it were a myrobalan [184] in the hand, and who purge away all sin. For even the mention of a great sage has its reward; much more, then, the sight of him! Happy is the hermitage where dwells this king of Brahmans! Nay, rather, happy is the whole world in being trodden by him who is the very Brahma of earth! Truly these sages enjoy the reward of their good deeds in that they attend him day and night with no other duty, hearing holy stories and ever fixing on him their steady gaze, as if he were another Brahma. Happy is Sarasvati, who, encircled by his shining teeth, and ever enjoying the nearness of his lotus-mouth, dwells in his serene mind, with its unfathomable depths and its full stream of tenderness, like a hamsa on the Manasa lake. The four Vedas, that have long dwelt in the four lotus-mouths of Brahma, find here their best and most fitting home. (91) All the sciences, which became turbid in the rainy season of the Iron Age, become pure when they reach him, as rivers coming to autumn. Of a surety, holy Dharma, having taken up his abode here after quelling the riot of the Iron Age, no longer cares to recall the Golden Age. Heaven, seeing earth trodden by him, no longer takes pride in being dwelt in by the Seven Rishis. How bold is old age, which fears not to fall on his thick matted locks, moonbeam-pale as they are, and hard to gaze on as the rays of the sun of doom. [185] For it falls on him as Ganges, white with flecks of foam, on Çiva, or as an offering of milk on Agni. Even the sun's rays keep far from the penance-grove, as if terrified by the greatness of the saint whose hermitage is darkened by the thick smoke of many an oblation. These fires, too, for love of him, receive oblations purified by hymns, for their flames are pressed together by the wind, like hands reverently raised. (92) The wind itself approaches him timidly, just stirring the linen and bark dresses, fragrant with the sweet creeper blossoms of the hermitage, and gentle in motion. Yet the glorious might of the elements is wont to be beyond our resistance! But this man towers above [186] the mightiest! The earth shines as if with two suns, being trodden by this noble man. In his support the world stands firm. He is the stream of sympathy, the bridge over the ocean of transient existence, and the home of the waters of patience; the axe for the glades of the creepers of desire, the ocean of the nectar of content, the guide in the path of perfection, the mountain behind which sets the planet of ill, [187] the root of the tree of endurance, the nave of the wheel of wisdom, the staff of the banner of righteousness, the holy place for the descent of all knowledge, the submarine fire of the ocean of craving, the touch-stone of the jewels of the çastras, the consuming flame of the buds of passion, the charm against the snake of wrath, the sun to dispel the darkness of delusion, the binder of the bolts of hell's gates, the native home of noble deeds, the temple of propitious rites, the forbidden ground for the degradation of passion, the sign-post to the paths of good, the birthplace of holiness, the felly of the wheel of effort, the abode of strength, the foe of the Iron Age, the treasury of penance, the friend of truth, the native soil of sincerity, the source of the heaping up of merit, the closed gate for envy, the foe of calamity. (93) Truly he is one in whom disrespect can find no place; for he is averse from pride, unclaimed by meanness, unenslaved by wrath, and unattracted by pleasure. Purely by the grace of this holy man the hermitage is free from envy and calm from enmity. Great is the power of a noble soul. Here, ceasing their constant feud, the very animals are quiet, and learn the joy of a hermitage life. For here a snake, wearied by the sun, fearlessly enters, as if into fresh grass, into the peacock's tail, like an interwoven grove of open lotuses, with its hundred beauteous eyes, changing in hue as the eyes of a deer. Here a young antelope, leaving his mother, makes friends with the lion-cubs whose manes are not yet grown, and drinks at the bounteous breast of the lioness. Here a lion closes his eyes, and is pleased to have his moon-white mane pulled by the young elephants that mistake it for lotus-fibres. Here the monkey-tribe loses its capriciousness and brings fruit to the young munis after their bath. There the elephants, too, though excited, are tender-hearted, and do not drive away by their flapping the bees that dwell round their frontal bones, and stay motionless to drink their ichor. (94) But what need of more? There even the senseless trees, with roots and fruits, clad in bark, and adorned with outer garments of black antelope skin perpetually made for them by the upward creeping lines of sacrificial smoke, seem like fellow ascetics of this holy man. How much more, then, living beings, endowed with sense!" 'And while I was thus thinking, Harita placed me somewhere in the shade of the açoka tree, and embracing his father's feet and saluting him, sat down not far from him on a seat of kuça grass. 'But the hermits, looking on me, asked him as he rested: "Whence was this little parrot brought?" "When I went hence to bathe," replied he, "I found this little parrot fallen from its nest in a tree on the bank of the lotus-lake, faint with the heat, lying in hot dust, and shaken by the fall, with little life left in him. And as I could not replace him in his nest (for that tree was too hard for an ascetic to climb), I brought him hither in pity. So, while his wings are not grown, and he cannot fly into the sky, let him live in the hollow of some hermitage tree, (95) fed on the juice of fruits and on handfuls of rice brought to him by us and by the young hermits. For it is the law of our order to protect the weak. But when his wings are grown, and he can fly into the sky, he shall go where he likes. Or perhaps, when he knows us well, he will stay here." The holy Jabali, hearing this and other remarks about me, with some curiosity bent his head slightly, and, with a very calm glance that seemed to purify me with holy waters, he gazed long upon me, and then, looking again and again as if he were beginning to recognise me, said: "He is reaping the fruit of his own ill-conduct." For by the potency of penance the saint with divine insight beholds the past, present, and future, and sees the whole world as though placed on the palm of his hand. He knows past births. He tells things yet to come. He declares the length of days of beings within his sight. 'At these words the whole assemblage of hermits, aware of his power, became curious to know what was my crime, and why committed, and where, and who I was in a former birth; and implored the saint, saying: (96) "Vouchsafe, sir, to tell us of what kind of misconduct he is reaping the fruits. Who was he in a former birth, and how was he born in the form of a bird? How is he named? Do thou satisfy our curiosity, for thou art the fountain-head of all marvels." 'Thus urged by the assemblage, the great saint replied: "The story of this wonder is very long, the day is almost spent, our bathing-time is near, while the hour for worshipping the gods is passing. Arise, therefore; let each perform his duties as is meet. In the afternoon, after your meal of roots and fruits, when you are resting quietly, I will tell you the whole story from beginning to end--who he is, what he did in another birth, and how he was born in this world. Meanwhile, let him be refreshed with food. He will certainly recall, as it were, the vision of a dream when I tell the whole story of his former birth." So saying, he arose, and with the hermits bathed and performed their other daily duties. (97) 'The day was now drawing to a close. When the hermits rose from their bathing, and were offering a sacrifice, the sun in the sky seemed to bear upwards before our eyes the offering cast on the ground, with its unguent of red sandal-wood. Then his glow faded and vanished; the effluence of his glory was drunk by the Ushmapas [188] with faces raised and eyes fixed on his orb, as if they were ascetics; and he glided from the sky pink as a dove's foot, drawing in his rays as though to avoid touching the Seven Rishis as they rose. His orb, with its network of crimson rays reflected on the Western Ocean, was like the lotus of Vishnu on his couch of waters pouring forth nectar; his beams, forsaking the sky and deserting the lotus-groves, lingered at eve like birds on the crest of hill and tree; the splashes of crimson light seemed for a moment to deck the trees with the red bark garments hung up by the ascetics. And when the thousand-rayed sun had gone to rest, twilight sprang up like rosy coral from the Western Ocean. (98) Then the hermitage became the home of quiet thought, as the pleasant sound of milking the sacred cows arose in one quarter, and the fresh kuça grass was scattered on the altar of Agni, and the rice and oblations to the goddesses of space were tossed hither and thither by the hermitage maidens. And red-starred eve seemed to the hermits as the red-eyed cow of the hermitage roaming about, tawny in the fall of day. And when the sun had vanished, the lotus-bed, in the grief of bereavement, seemed to perform a vow in the hopes of rejoining the lord of day, for she lifted the goblets of her buds, and wore the fine white vesture of her hamsas, and was girt with the sacrificial thread of white filaments, and bore a circle of bees as her rosary. And the starry host leapt up and filled the sky, like a splash of spray when the sun fell into the Western Ocean; and for a brief space the star-bespangled sky shone as though inlaid with flowers offered by the daughters of the Siddhas [189] in honour of twilight; but in a moment the whole glory of the gloaming vanished as though washed away by the libations which the hermits, with faces upraised, cast towards the sky; (99) and at its departure, night, as sorrowing for its loss, wore a deeper darkness, like a black antelope's skin--a blackness which darkened all save the hearts of the hermits. 'Learning that the sun had gone to rest, the lord of rays ambrosial, in pure severity of light, arrayed in the whiteness of clear gossamer, dwelling in the palace of his wives with Tara, [190] mounted the sky which, in that it was outlined with the darkness of tamala-trees, presided over by the circle of Seven Rishis, purified by the wanderings of Arundhati, [191] surrounded by Ashadha, [192] showing its Mula [193] with its soft-eyed white deer, [194] was a very hermitage of heaven. White as a hamsa, moonlight fell on the earth, filling the seas; falling, as Ganges from the head of Çiva, from the sky which was decked with the moon, and inlaid with the shattered potsherds of the stars. (100) And in the moon-lake, white as an opening lotus, was seen the motionless deer, which went down in eagerness to drink the water of the moonbeams, and was caught, as it were, in the mud of ambrosia. The lakes of the night-lotus were fondly visited by the moonbeams, like hamsas, falling on the ocean white as sinduvara flowers in their fresh purity after the rains. At that moment the globe of the moon lost all the glow of its rising, like the frontal bone of the elephant Airavata when its red lead is washed away by plunging into the heavenly stream; and his highness the cold-shedder had gradually risen high in the sky, and by his light had whitened the earth as with lime-dust; the breezes of early night were blowing, slackened in their course by the cold dew, aromatic with the scent of opening moon-lotuses, (101) and gladly welcomed by the deer, who, with eyes weighed down by the approach of sleep, and eyelashes clinging together, were beginning to ruminate and rest in quiet. 'Only half a watch of the night was spent, when Harita took me after my meal and went with the other holy hermits to his father, who, in a moonlit spot of the hermitage, was sitting on a bamboo stool, gently fanned by a pupil named Jalapada, who held a fan of antelope skin white as dharba grass, and he spake, saying: "Father, the whole assemblage of hermits is in a circle round thee, with hearts eager to hear this wonder; the little bird, too, has rested. Tell us, therefore, what he has done, who was he, and who will he be in another birth?" Thus addressed, the great saint, looking at me, and seeing the hermits before him intently listening, slowly spake: "Let the tale be told, if ye care to hear it. '"(102) There is a city named Ujjayini, the proudest gem of earth, the very home of the golden age, created by Mahakala, [195] creator, preserver, and destroyer of the three worlds, and lord of Pramathas, as a habitation meet for himself, as it were a second earth. There the sun is daily seen paying homage to Mahakala, for his steeds vail their heads at the charm of the sweet chant of the women singing in concert in the lofty white palace, and his pennon droops before him. (109) '"There darkness never falls, and the nights bring no separation to the pairs of cakravakas; nor need they any lamps, for they pass golden as with morning sunshine, from the bright jewels of women, as though the world were on fire with the flame of love. (110) There the only unending life is in jewelled lamps, the only wavering in pearl necklaces, the only variations in the sound of drum and song, the only disunion of pairs in cakravakas, the only testing of colour [196] in gold pieces, the only unsteadiness in banners, the only hatred of the sun [197] in night-lotuses, the only concealment of metal in the sheathing of the sword. (111) Why should I say more? For he whose bright feet are kissed by the rays of the jewelled crests of gods and demons, who hath the river of heaven wandering lost in his locks tawny with a wreath of flame for the burning of the world; he the foe of Andhaka; he the holy one; he who hath given up his love for his home on Kailasa; even he whose name is Mahakala hath there made a habitation for himself. And in this city was a king named Tarapida. He was like unto the great kings Nala, Nahusha, Yayati, Dundhumara, Bharata, Bhagiratha, and Daçaratha; by the might of his arm he conquered the whole world; he reaped the fruits of the three powers; [198] wise and resolute, with an intellect unwearied in political science, and a deep study of the law books, he made in light and glory a third with the sun and moon. (112) His form was purified by many a sacrifice; by him the calamities of the whole world were set at rest; to him Lakshmi openly clung, deserting her lotus-woods and despising the happiness of her home in the breast of Narayana, she the lotus-handed, who ever joys in the contest of heroes. He was the source of truth, ever honoured by the race of saints, as the foot of Vishnu was of the stream of the heavenly Ganges. '"From him arose glory, as from the ocean of the moon, for his brightness, free from heat, consumed his foes; constant, ever roamed; stainless, darkened the brightness of the lotus-faced widows of his foes; white, made all things gay. (113) He was the incarnation of justice, the very representative of Vishnu and the destroyer of all the sorrows of his people. (115) '"When he approached the throne that blossomed with the rays of many gems and was hung with clusters of pearls, like the elephant of space approaching the tree of desire, all the wide quarters of space, like creepers weighed down by bees, bowed down before his majesty; and of him, I think, even Indra was envious. From him, too, proceeded a host of virtues, like a flock of hamsas from Mount Krauñca, brightening the earth's surface, and gladdening the hearts of all mankind. His fame wandered, so that the world echoed with it throughout the ten regions, making fair the world of gods and demons, like a streak of foam of the stream of milk tossed by Mandara, ambrosial sweet. His royal glory never for a moment laid aside the shade of her umbrella, as though scorched by the heat of a splendour hard to bear. (116) His achievements were heard by the people like news of good fortune, were received like the teaching of a guru, were valued like a good omen, were murmured like a hymn, and were remembered like a sacred text. And while he was king, though the flight of the mountains was stayed, the flight of thought was free; suffixes alone were dependent, and the people feared no foe; nought dared to face him but his mirror; the pressure of Durga [199] was given to Çiva's image alone; the bow was only borne by the clouds; there was no uprising save of banners, no bending save of bows, no shaft sped home save the bee's on the bamboo, no enforced wandering save of the images of gods in a procession, no imprisonment save of flowers in their calyx, no restraint save of the senses; wild elephants entered the pale, but none paled before the water-ordeal; the only sharpness was in the edge of the sword; the only endurance of the flame [200] was by ascetics; the only passing the Balance [201] was by the stars; the only clearing of baneful [202] waters was in the rising of Agastya; the only cutting short was of hair and nails; the only stained garb was of the sky on stormy days; the only laying bare was of gems, and not of secret counsels; the only mysteries [203] were those of religion; (117) none ceased to behold the light save slaughtered Taraka [204] in the praises of Kumara; none dreaded eclipse save the sun; none passed over the First-born [205] save the moon; none heard of the Disobedient save in the Mahabharata; none grasped the rod [206] save in the decline of life; none clung to a sinister object save the sword-sheath; no stream of liberality was interrupted save the elephant's ichor; no squares were deserted save those on the dice-board. '"That king had a minister, by name Çukanasa, a Brahman, whose intelligence was fixed on all the affairs of the kingdom, whose mind had plunged deeply into the arts and çastras, and whose strong affection for the king had grown up in him from childhood. Skilled in the precepts of political science, pilot of the world's government, unshaken in resolve by the greatest difficulties, he was the castle of constancy, the station of steadfastness, the bridge of bright truth, the guide to all goodness, the conductor in conduct, the ordainer of all ordered life. Like the serpent Çesha, enduring the weight of the world; like the ocean, full of life; like Jarasandha, shaping war and peace; [207] (118) like Çiva, at home with Durga [208]; like Yuddhishthira, a dayspring of Dharma, he knew all the Vedas and Vedangas, and was the essence of the kingdom's prosperity. He was like Brihaspati [209] to Sunasira; like Çukra to Vrishaparvan; like Vaçishtha to Daçaratha; like Viçvamitra to Rama; like Dhaumya to Ajataçatru; like Damanaka to Nala. He, by the force of his knowledge, thought that Lakshmi was not hard to win, resting though she were on the breast of Narayana, terrible with the scars of the weapons of the demons of hell, and a strong shoulder hardened by the pitiless pressure of Mount Mandara as it moved to and fro. Near him knowledge spread wide, thick with many a tendril, and showed the fruits gained from conquered realms like a creeper near a tree. (119) To him throughout the earth's surface, measured by the circumference of the four oceans, and filled with the goings to and fro of many thousands of spies, every whisper of the kings was known as though uttered in his own palace. '"Now, Tarapida while yet a child had conquered the whole earth ringed by the seven Dvipas by the might of his arm, thick as the trunk of Indra's elephant, and he devolved the weight of the empire on that councillor named Çukanasa, and having made his subjects perfectly contented, he searched for anything else that remained to be done. '"And as he had crushed his enemies and had lost all cause for fear, and as the strain of the world's affairs had become a little relaxed, for the most part he began to pursue the ordinary pleasures of youth. (124) '"And some time passed while the king pursued the pleasures of youth, and entrusted the affairs of state to his minister; and after a time he came to the end of all the other pleasures of life, and the only one he did not get was the sight of a son born to him; so that his zenana was like reeds showing only flowers without fruit; and as youth went by there arose in him a regret produced by childlessness, and his mind was turned away from the desire of the pleasures of sense, and he felt himself alone, though surrounded by a thousand princes; blind, though possessed of sight; without support, though supporting the world. (125) '"But the fairest ornament of this king was his queen Vilasavati; as the moon's digit to the braided hair of Çiva, as the splendour of the Kaustubha gem to the breast of the foe [210] of Kaitabha, as the woodland garland to Balarama, as the shore to the ocean, as the creeper to the tree, as the outburst of flowers to the spring, as the moonlight to the moon, as the lotus-bed to the lake, as the array of stars to the sky, as the circling of hamsas to Lake Manasa, as the line of sandal-woods to Mount Malaya, as the jewelled crest to Çesha, so was she to her lord; she reigned peerless in the zenana, and created wonder in the three worlds, as though she were the very source of all womanly grace. '"And it chanced once that, going to her dwelling, he beheld her seated on a stately [211] couch, weeping bitterly, surrounded by her household mute in grief, their glances fixed in meditation, and attended by her chamberlains, who waited afar with eyes motionless in anxious thought, while the old women of the zenana were trying to console her. Her silken robes were wet with ceaseless tears; her ornaments were laid aside; her lotus-face rested on her left hand; and her tresses were unbound and in disorder. As she arose to welcome him, the king placed her on the couch again, and sitting there himself, ignorant of the cause of her weeping, and in great alarm, wiped away with his hand the tears from her cheeks, saying: (126) 'My queen, what means this weeping, voiceless and low with the weight of the heavy sorrow concealed in thy heart? For these eyelashes of thine are stringing, as it were, a network of pearls of dropping tears. Why, slender one, art thou unadorned? and why has not the stream of lac fallen on thy feet like early sunlight on rosy lotus-buds? And why are thy jewelled anklets, with their murmur like teals on the lake of love, not graced with the touch of thy lotus-feet? And why is this waist of thine bereft of the music of the girdle thou hast laid aside? And why is there no device painted on thy breast like the deer on the moon? and why is that slender neck of thine, fair-limbed queen, not adorned with a rope of pearls as the crescent on Çiva's brow by the heavenly stream? And why dost thou, erst so gay, wear in vain a face whose adornment is washed away with flowing tears? And why is this hand, with its petal-like cluster of soft fingers, exalted into an ear-jewel, as though it were a rosy lotus? (127) And why, froward lady, dost thou raise thy straight brow undecked with the mark of yellow pigment, and surrounded by the mass of thine unbound tresses? For these flowing locks of thine, bereft of flowers, grieve my eyes, like the loss of the moon in the dark fortnight, clouded in masses of thickest gloom. Be kind, and tell me, my queen, the cause of thy grief. For this storm of sighs with which the robe on thy breast is quivering bows my loving heart like a ruddy tendril. Has any wrong been done by me, or by any in thy service? Closely as I examine myself, I can truly see no failure of mine towards thee. For my life and my kingdom are wholly thine. Let the cause of thy woe, fair queen, be told.' But Vilasavati, thus addressed, made no reply, and turning to her attendants, he asked the cause of her exceeding grief. Then her betel-nut bearer, Makarika, who was always near her, said to the king: 'My lord, how could any fault, however slight, be committed by thee? (128) And how in thy presence could any of thy followers, or anyone else, offend? The sorrow of the queen is that her union with the king is fruitless, as though she were seized by Rahu, and for a long time she has been suffering. For at first our lady was like one in heavy grief, was only occupied with difficulty by the persuasion of her attendants in the ordinary duties of the day, however fitting they might be, such as sleeping, bathing, eating, putting on of ornaments, and the like, and, like a Lakshmi of the lower world, ceaselessly upbraided divine love. [212] But in her longing to take away the grief of my lord's heart, she did not show her sad change. Now, however, as it was the fourteenth day of the month, she went to worship holy Mahakala, and heard in a recitation of the Mahabharata, "No bright abodes await the childless, for a son is he who delivers from the sunless shades"; and when she heard this, she returned to her palace, and now, though reverently entreated thereto by her attendants, she takes no pleasure in food, nor does she busy herself in putting on her jewels, nor does she vouchsafe to answer us; (129) she only weeps, and her face is clouded with a storm of ever-flowing tears. My lord has heard, and must judge.' So saying, she ceased; and, with a long and passionate sigh, the king spoke thus: '"'My queen, what can be done in a matter decreed by fate? Enough of this weeping beyond measure! For it is not on us that the gods are wont to bestow their favours. In truth, our heart is not destined to hold the bliss of that ambrosial draught, the embrace of a child of our own. In a former life no glorious deed was done; for a deed done in a former life brings forth fruit in man's life on earth; even the wisest man cannot change destiny. Let all be done that may be done in this mortal life. Do more honour to the gurus; redouble thy worship of the gods; let thy good works be seen in thy reverence to the rishis; for the rishis are a powerful deity, and if we serve them with all our might, they will give boons that fulfil our heart's desire, hard though it be to gain. (130) For the tale is an old one how King Brihadratha in Magadha won by the power of Candakauçika a son Jarasandha, victor of Vishnu, peerless in prowess, fatal to his foes. Daçaratha, too, when very old, received by the favour of Rishyaçringa, son of the great saint Vibhandaka, four sons, unconquerable as the arms of Narayana, and unshaken as the depths of the oceans. [213] And many other royal sages, having conciliated ascetics, have enjoyed the happiness of tasting the ambrosia of the sight of a son. For the honour paid to saints is never without its reward. '"'And for me, when shall I behold my queen ready to bear a child, pale as the fourteenth night when the rising of the full moon is at hand; and when will her attendants, hardly able to bear the joy of the great festival of the birth of my son, carry the full basket of gifts? When will my queen gladden me wearing yellow robes, and holding a son in her arms, like the sky with the newly-risen sun and the early sunlight; and when will a son give me joy of heart, with his curly hair yellow with many a plant, a few ashes mixed with mustard-seed on his palate, which has a drop of ghi on it as a talisman, (131) and a thread bright with yellow dye round his neck, as he lies on his back and smiles with a little toothless mouth; when will this baby destroy all the darkness of sorrow in my eyes like an auspicious lamp welcomed by all the people, handed from one to another by the zenana attendants, shining tawny with yellow dye; and when will he adorn the courtyard, as he toddles round it, followed by my heart and my eyes, and gray with the dust of the court; and when will he walk from one place to another and the power of motion be formed in his knees, so that, like a young lion, he may try to catch the young tame deer screened behind the crystal walls? And when, running about at will in the courtyard, will he run after the tame geese, accompanied by the tinkling of the anklets of the zenana, and weary his nurse, who will hasten after him, following the sound of the bells of his golden girdle; (132) and when will he imitate the antics of a wild elephant, and have his cheeks adorned with a line of ichor painted in black aloe, full of joy at the sound of the bell held in his mouth, gray with the dust of sandal-wood scattered by his uplifted hand, shaking his head at the beckoning of the hooked finger; and when will he disguise the faces of the old chamberlains with the juice of handfuls of lac left after being used to colour his mother's feet; and when, with eyes restless in curiosity, will he bend his glance on the inlaid floors, and with tottering steps pursue his own shadow; and when will he creep about during the audience in front of me as I stand in my audience-hall, with his eyes wandering bewildered by the rays of the gems, and have his coming welcomed by the outstretched arms of a thousand kings? Thinking on a hundred such desires, I pass my nights in suffering. Me, too, the grief arising from our want of children burns like a fire day and night. The world seems empty; I look on my kingdom as without fruit. But what can I do towards Brahma, from whom there is no appeal? Therefore, my queen, cease thy continual grief. Let thy heart be devoted to endurance and to duty. For increase of blessings is ever nigh at hand for those who set their thoughts on duty.' (133) Thus saying, with a hand like a fresh tendril, he took water and wiped her tear-stained face, which showed as an opening lotus; and having comforted her again and again with many a speech sweet with a hundred endearments, skilled to drive away grief, and full of instruction about duty, he at last left her. And when he was gone, Vilasavati's sorrow was a little soothed, and she went about her usual daily duties, such as putting on of her adornments. And from that time forth she was more and more devoted to propitiating the gods, honouring Brahmans, and paying reverence to all holy persons; whatever recommendation she heard from any source she practised in her longing for a child, nor did she count the fatigue, however great; she slept within the temples of Durga, dark with smoke of bdellium ceaselessly burnt, on a bed of clubs covered with green grass, fasting, her pure form clothed in white raiment; (134) she bathed under cows endued with auspicious marks, adorned for the occasion by the wives of the old cowherds in the herd-stations, with golden pitchers laden with all sorts of jewels, decorated with branches of the pipal, decked with divers fruits and flowers and filled with holy water; every day she would rise and give to Brahmans golden mustard-leaves adorned with every gem; she stood in the midst of a circle drawn by the king himself, in a place where four roads meet, on the fourteenth night of the dark fortnight, and performed auspicious rites of bathing, in which the gods of the quarters were gladdened by the various oblations offered; she honoured the shrines of the siddhas and sought the houses of neighbouring Matrikas, [214] in which faith was displayed by the people; she bathed in all the celebrated snake-ponds; with a sun-wise turn, she worshipped the pipal and other trees to which honour was wont to be shown; after bathing, with hands circled by swaying bracelets, she herself gave to the birds an offering of curds and boiled rice placed in a silver cup; she offered daily to the goddess Durga a sacrifice consisting of parched grain of oblation, boiled rice, sesamum sweetmeats, cakes, unguents, incense, and flowers, in abundance; (135) she besought, with a mind prostrate in adoration, the naked wandering ascetics, bearing the name of siddhas, and carrying their begging-bowls filled by her; she greatly honoured the directions of fortune-tellers; she frequented all the soothsayers learned in signs; she showed all respect to those who understood the omens of birds; she accepted all the secrets handed down in the tradition of a succession of venerable sages; in her longing for the sight of a son, she made the Brahmans who came into her presence chant the Veda; she heard sacred stories incessantly repeated; she carried about little caskets of mantras filled with birch-leaves written over in yellow letters; she tied strings of medicinal plants as amulets; even her attendants went out to hear passing sounds and grasped the omens arising from them; she daily threw out lumps of flesh in the evening for the jackals; she told the pandits the wonders of her dreams, and at the cross-roads she offered oblation to Çiva. '"And as time went on, it chanced once that near the end of night, when the sky was gray as an old pigeon's wing, and but few stars were left, the king saw in a dream the full moon entering the mouth of Vilasavati, as she rested on the roof of her white palace, like a ball of lotus-fibres into the mouth of an elephant. (136) Thereupon he woke, and arising, shedding brightness through his dwelling by the joyous dilation of his eyes, he straightway called Çukanasa and told him the dream; whereto the latter, filled with sudden joy, replied: 'Sire, our wishes and those of thy subjects are at length fulfilled. After a few days my lord will doubtless experience the happiness of beholding the lotus-face of a son; for I, too, this night in a dream saw a white-robed Brahman, of godlike bearing and calm aspect, place in Manorama's [215] lap a lotus that rained drops of honey, with a hundred outspread white petals, like the moon's digits, and a thousand quivering stamens forming its matted locks. Now, all auspicious omens which come to us foretell the near approach of joy; and what other cause of joy can there be than this? for dreams seen at the close of night are wont to bear fruit in truth. (137) Certainly ere long the queen shall bear a son that, like Mandhatri, shall be a leader among all royal sages, and a cause of joy to all the world; and he shall gladden thy heart, O king, as the lotus-pool in autumn with its burst of fresh lotuses gladdens the royal elephant; by him thy kingly line shall become strong to bear the weight of the world, and shall be unbroken in its succession as the stream of a wild elephant's ichor.' As he thus spoke, the king, taking him by the hand, entered the inner apartments and gladdened the queen, with both their dreams. And after some days, by the grace of the gods, the hope of a child came to Vilasavati, like the moon's image on a lake, and she became thereby yet more glorious, like the line of the Nandana wood with the tree of Paradise, or the breast of Vishnu with the Kaustubha gem. (138) '"On one memorable day the king had gone at evening to an inner pavilion, where, encircled by a thousand lamps, burning bright with abundance of scented oil, he was like the full moon in the midst of stars, or like Narayana seated among the thousand jewelled hoods of the king of snakes; he was surrounded only by a few great kings who had received the sprinkling of coronation; his own attendants stood at some distance; close by Çukanasa was sitting on a high stool, clad in white silk, with little adornment, a statesman profound as the depths of ocean; and with him the king was holding a conversation on many topics, full of the confidence that had grown with their growth, when he was approached by the handmaiden Kulavardhana, the queen's chief attendant, always skilled in the ways of a court, well trained by nearness to royalty, and versed in all auspicious ceremonies, who whispered in his ear the news about Vilasavati. (139) At her words, so fresh to his ears, the king's limbs were bedewed as if with ambrosia, a thrill passed through his whole body, and he was bewildered with the draught of joy; his cheeks burst into a smile; under the guise of the bright flash of his teeth he scattered abroad the happiness that overflowed his heart, and his eye, with its pupil quivering, and its lashes wet with tears of gladness, fell on the face of Çukanasa. And when Çukanasa saw the king's exceeding joy, such as he had never seen before, and beheld the approach of Kulavardhana with a radiant smile on her face, though he had not heard the tidings, yet, from constantly revolving the matter in his mind, he saw no other cause befitting the time of this excess of gladness; (140) he saw all, and bringing his seat closer to the king, said in a low voice: 'My lord, there is some truth in that dream; for Kulavardhana has her eyes radiant, and thy twin eyes announce a cause of great joy, for they are dilated, their pupils are tremulous, and they are bathed in tears of joy, and as they seem to creep to the lobes of thy ears in their eagerness to hear the good tidings, they produce, as it were, the beauty of an ear-pendant of blue lotuses. My longing heart yearns to hear the festival that has sprung up for it. Therefore let my lord tell me what is this news.' When he had thus said, the king replied with a smile: 'If it is true as she says, then all our dream is true; but I cannot believe it. How should so great a happiness fall to our lot? For we are no fitting vessel for the bearing of such good tidings. Kulavardhana is always truthful, and yet when I consider how unworthy I am of such joy, I look upon her as having changed her nature. Rise, therefore; I myself will go and ask the queen if it is true, and then I shall know.' (141) So saying, he dismissed all the kings, and taking off his ornaments, gave them to Kulavardhana, and when, on his gracious dismissal of her with gifts, he received her homage paid with a deep reverence as she touched the earth with her straight brow, he rose with Çukanasa and went to the inner apartments, hurried on by a mind filled with exceeding happiness, and gladdened by the throbbing of his right eye, which seemed to mimic the play of a blue lotus-petal stirred by the wind. He was followed by a scanty retinue, as befitted so late a visit, and had the thick darkness of the courtyard dispelled by the brightness of the lamps of the women who went before him, though their steady flame flickered in the wind."' [Bana then describes the birth of Tarapida's son, who is named Candrapida, from the king's dream about the moon, and also that of Çukanasa's son Vaiçampayana. [216]] (155) '"And as Candrapida underwent in due course all the circle of ceremonies, beginning with the tying of his top-knot, his childhood passed away; and to prevent distraction, Tarapida had built for him a palace of learning outside the city, stretching half a league along the Sipra river, surrounded by a wall of white bricks like the circle of peaks of a snow-mountain, girt with a great moat running along the walls, guarded by very strong gates, having one door kept open for ingress, with stables for horses and palanquins close by, and a gymnasium constructed beneath--a fit palace for the immortals. He took infinite pains in gathering there teachers of every science, and having placed the boy there, like a young lion in a cage, forbidding all egress, surrounding him with a suite composed mainly of the sons of his teachers, removing every allurement to the sports of boyhood, and keeping his mind free from distraction, on an auspicious day (156) he entrusted him, together with Vaiçampayana, to masters, that they might acquire all knowledge. Every day when he rose, the king, with Vilasavati and a small retinue, went to watch him, and Candrapida, undisturbed in mind and kept to his work by the king, quickly grasped all the sciences taught him by teachers, whose efforts were quickened by his great powers, as they brought to light his natural abilities; the whole range of arts assembled in his mind as in a pure jewelled mirror. He gained the highest skill in word, sentence, proof, law, and royal policy; in gymnastics; in all kinds of weapons, such as the bow, quoit, shield, scimitar, dart, mace, battle-axe, and club; in driving and elephant-riding; in musical instruments, such as the lute, fife, drum, cymbal, and pipe; in the laws of dancing laid down by Bharata and others, and the science of music, such as that of Narada; in the management of elephants, the knowledge of a horse's age, and the marks of men; in painting, leaf-cutting, the use of books, and writing; in all the arts of gambling, knowledge of the cries of birds, and astronomy; in testing of jewels, (157) carpentry, the working of ivory; in architecture, physic, mechanics, antidotes, mining, crossing of rivers, leaping and jumping, and sleight of hand; in stories, dramas, romances, poems; in the Mahabharata, the Puranas, the Itihasas, and the Ramayana; in all kinds of writing, all foreign languages, all technicalities, all mechanical arts; in metre, and in every other art. And while he ceaselessly studied, even in his childhood an inborn vigour like that of Bhima shone forth in him and stirred the world to wonder. For when he was but in play the young elephants, who had attacked him as if he were a lion's whelp, had their limbs bowed down by his grasp on their ears, and could not move; with one stroke of his scimitar he cut down palm-trees as if they were lotus-stalks; his shafts, like those of Paraçurama when he blazed to consume the forest of earth's royal stems, cleft only the loftiest peaks; he exercised himself with an iron club which ten men were needed to lift; and, except in bodily strength, he was followed close in all his accomplishments by Vaiçampayana, (158) who, by reason of the honour Candrapida felt for his deep learning, and of his reverence due to Çukanasa, and because they had played in the dust and grown up together, was the prince's chief friend, and, as it were, his second heart, and the home of all his confidences. He would not be without Vaiçampayana for a moment, while Vaiçampayana never for an instant ceased to follow him, any more than the day would cease to follow the sun. '"And while Candrapida was thus pursuing his acquaintance with all knowledge, the spring of youth, loved of the three worlds as the amrita draught of the ocean, gladdening the hearts of men as moonrise gladdens the gloaming; transient in change of iridescent glow, like the full arch of Indra's bow to the rainy season; weapon of love, like the outburst of flowers to the tree of desire; beautiful in ever freshly revealed glow, like sunrise to the lotus-grove; ready for all play of graceful motion, like the plumes of the peacock, became manifest and brought to flower in him, fair as he was, a double beauty; love, lord of the hour, stood ever nigh, as if to do his bidding; his chest expanded like his beauty; his limbs won fulness, like the wishes of his friends; his waist became slender, like the host of his foes; (159) his form broadened, like his liberality; his majesty grew, like his hair; his arms hung down more and more, like the plaits of his enemies' wives; his eyes became brighter, like his conduct; his shoulders broad, like his knowledge; and his heart deep, like his voice. '"And so in due course the king, learning that Candrapida had grown to youth, and had completed his knowledge of all the arts, studied all the sciences, and won great praise from his teachers, summoned Balahaka, a mighty warrior, and, with a large escort of cavalry and infantry, sent him on a very auspicious day to fetch the prince. And Balahaka, going to the palace of learning, entered, announced by the porters, and bending his head till its crest-jewels rested on the ground, sat down, by the prince's permission, on a seat befitting his office, as reverently as though in the king's presence; after a short pause he approached Candrapida and respectfully gave the king's message: 'Prince, the king bids me say: "Our desires are fulfilled; the çastras have been studied; all the arts have been learnt; thou hast gained the highest skill in all the martial sciences. (160) All thy teachers give thee permission to leave the house of learning. Let the people see that thou hast received thy training, like a young royal elephant come out from the enclosure, having in thy mind the whole orb of the arts, like the full moon newly risen. Let the eyes of the world, long eager to behold thee, fulfil their true function; for all the zenanas are yearning for thy sight. This is now the tenth year of thine abode in the school, and thou didst enter it having reached the experience of thy sixth year. This year, then, so reckoned, is the sixteenth of thy life. Now, therefore, when thou hast come forth and shown thyself to all the mothers longing to see thee, and hast saluted those who deserve thy honour, do thou lay aside thy early discipline, and experience at thy will the pleasures of the court and the delights of fresh youth. Pay thy respects to the chiefs; honour the Brahmans; protect thy people; gladden thy kinsfolk. There stands at the door, sent by the king, this horse, named Indrayudha, swift as Garuda or as the wind, the chief jewel of the three worlds; (161) for in truth the monarch of Persia, who esteemed him the wonder of the universe, sent him with this message: 'This noble steed, sprung straight from the waters of ocean, was found by me, and is worthy for thee, O king, to mount;' and when he was shown to those skilled in a horse's points, they said: 'He has all the marks of which men tell us as belonging to Uccaihçravas; there never has been nor will be a steed like him.' Therefore let him be honoured by thy mounting him. These thousand princes, all sons of anointed kings, highly-trained, heroic, wise, and accomplished, and of long descent, sent for thine escort, wait on horseback, all eager to salute thee."' Having thus said, Balahaka paused, and Candrapida, laying his father's command on his head, in a voice deep as a new cloud gave the order, 'Let Indrayudha be brought,' for he desired to mount him. '"Immediately on his command Indrayudha was brought, and he beheld that wondrous steed, led by two men on each side grasping the circle of the bit, and using all their efforts to curb him. He was very large, his back being just within reach of a man's uplifted hand; he seemed to drink the sky, which was on a level with his mouth; with a neigh which shook the cavity of his belly, and filled the hollows of the three worlds, he, as it were, upbraided Garuda for his vain trust in his fabled speed; (162) with a nostril snorting in wrath at any hindrance to his course, he, in his pride, examined the three worlds, that he might leap over them; his body was variegated with streaks of black, yellow, green, and pink, like Indra's bow; he was like a young elephant, with a many-hued rug spread over him; like Çiva's bull, pink with metallic dust from butting at Kailasa's peaks; like Parvati's lion, with his mane crimsoned with the red streak of the demon's clotted blood; and like the very incarnation of all energy, with a sound emitted from his ever-quivering nostrils, he seemed to pour forth the wind inhaled in his swift course; he scattered the foam-flakes that frothed from his lips from the champing of the points of the bit which rattled as he rolled it in his mouth, as if they were mouthfuls of ambrosia drunk in his ocean home. (164) And, beholding this steed, whose like was never before seen, in form fit for the gods, meet for the kingdom of the whole universe, (165) possessed of all the favourable marks, the perfection of a horse's shape, the heart of Candrapida, though of a nature not easily moved, was touched with amazement, and the thought arose in his mind: 'What jewel, if not this wondrous horse, was brought up by the Suras and Asuras when they churned the waters of ocean and whirled round Mount Mandara with the serpent Vasuki revolving in ceaseless gyration? And what has Indra gained by his lordship of the three worlds if he did not mount this back, broad as Mount Meru? Surely Indra was cheated by the ocean when his heart was gladdened by Uccaihçravas! And I think that so far he has not crossed the sight of holy Narayana, who even now does not give up his infatuation for riding Garuda. My father's royal glory surpasses the riches of the kingdom of heaven, in that treasures such as this, which can hardly be gained in the whole universe, come here into servitude. From its magnificence and energy, this form of his seems the shrine of a god, and the truth of this makes me fear to mount him. For forms like this, fit for the gods and the wonder of the universe, belong to no common horse. Even deities, subject to a muni's curse, have been known to leave their own bodies and inhabit other bodies brought to them by the terms of the curse. (166) For there is a story of old how Sthulaçiras, a muni of great austerity, cursed an Apsaras named Rambha, the ornament of the three worlds; and she, leaving heaven, entered the heart of a horse, and thus, as the story goes, dwelt for a long time on earth as a mare, in the service of King Çatadhanvan, at Mrittikavati; and many other great-souled beings, having had their glory destroyed by the curse of munis, have roamed the world in various forms. Surely this must be some noble being subject to a curse! My heart declares his divinity.' Thus thinking, he rose, wishing to mount; and in mind only approaching the steed, he prayed thus: 'Noble charger, thou art that thou art! All hail to thee! Yet let my audacity in mounting thee be forgiven! for even deities whose presence is unknown taste of a contumely all unmeet for them.' '"As if knowing his thought, Indrayudha looked at him with eye askance, the pupil turned and partly closed by the lashing of his tossing mane, (167) and repeatedly struck the ground with his right hoof, till the hair on his chest was gray with the dust it cast up, as though summoning the prince to mount, with a pleasant whinnying long drawn out into a gentle soft murmur blent with the snorting of his quivering nostrils. Whereupon Candrapida mounted Indrayudha, as though invited thereunto by his pleasant neighing; and, having mounted, he passed out, thinking the whole universe but a span long, and beheld a cavalcade of which the furthest limits could not be seen; it deafened the hollows of the three worlds with the clatter of hoofs breaking up the earth, fierce as a shower of stones let fall from the clouds, and with a neighing sounding the fiercer from nostrils choked with dust; it decked the sky with a forest of lances all horrent, whose shafts gleamed bright when touched by the sun, like a lake half hidden in a grove of blue lotus-buds upborne on their stalks; from its darkening the eight quarters with its thousand umbrellas all raised, it was like a mass of clouds iridescent with the full arch of Indra's bow shining on them; (168) while from the horses' mouths being white with foam-flakes cast abroad, and from the undulating line of their ceaseless curvetting, it rose to sight like a mass of ocean billows in the flood of final destruction; all the horses were in motion at Candrapida's approach, as the waves of ocean at the moon's rising; and the princes, each wishing to be first in their eagerness to pay their homage, having their heads unprotected by the hasty removal of their umbrellas, and weary with trying to curb their horses, which were wild with trampling on each other, drew around the prince. As Balahaka presented each by name, they bowed, bending low their heads, which showed the glow of loyalty under the guise of the rays uprising from the rubies in their waving crests, and which, from their having buds held up in adoration, were like lotuses resting on the water in the pitchers of coronation. Having saluted them, Candrapida, accompanied by Vaiçampayana, also mounted, straightway set out for the city. (169) He was shaded by a very large umbrella with a gold stick, borne above him, formed like the lotus on which royal glory might dwell, like the moon's orb to the moon-lotus grove of royal races, like an island being formed by the flow of the cavalcade, in hue like the circle of Vasuki's hood whitened by the sea of milk, garlanded with many a rope of pearls, bearing the device of a lion designed above. The flowers in his ears were set dancing by the wind of the cowries waved on either side, and his praises were sung by many thousands of retainers running before him, young, for the most part, and brave, and by the bards, who ceaselessly recited aloud auspicious verses, with a soft cry of 'Long life and victory.' '"And as he passed on his way to the city, like a manifestation of the god of love no longer bodiless, [217] all the people, like a lotus-grove awakened by the moon's rising, left their work and gathered to behold him. '"'Kartikeya scorns the name of Kumara, [218] since his own form is looked on with scorn by the throng of lotus-faces when this prince is by. Surely we reap the reward of great virtue in that we behold that godlike form with eyes wide with the overflow of love sprung up within us, and upraised in eager curiosity. (170) Our birth in this world has now brought forth its fruit. Nevertheless, all hail to blessed Krishna, who in the guise of Candrapida has assumed a new form!' With such words the city folk folded their hands in adoration and bowed before him. And from the thousand windows which were unclosed from curiosity to behold Candrapida, the city itself became as it were a mass of open eyes; for straightway on hearing that he had left the palace of learning filled with all knowledge, women eager to see him mounted the roofs hastily throughout the city, leaving their half-done work; some with mirrors in their left hand were like the nights of the full moon, when the moon's whole orb is gleaming; some, with feet roseate with fresh lac, were like lotus-buds whose flowers had drunk the early sunlight; some, with their tender feet enmeshed in the bells of their girdle, fallen to the ground in their haste, were like elephants moving very slowly, checked by their chain; some were robed in rainbow hues, like the beauty of a day in the rainy season; some raised feet that blossomed into the white rays of their nails, like tame kalahamsas drawn by the sound of the anklets; (171) some held strings of large pearls in their hands, as if in imitation of Rati with her crystal rosary grasped in grief for the death of Love; some, with wreaths of pearls falling between their breasts, were like the glory of evening when the pairs of cakravakas are separated by a pure slender stream; some, with rainbow flashes rising from the gems of their anklets, shone as if lovingly accompanied by tame peacocks; some, with their jewelled cups half drunk, distilled, as it were, from their rosy flower-like lips a sweet nectar. Others, too, with their orbed faces appearing at the interstices of the emerald lattices, presented to the eyes a lotus-grove with its opening buds traversing the sky, as they gazed on the prince. On a sudden there arose a tinkling of ornaments born of hasty motion, with many a sound of lutes struck sweetly on their chords, blended with the cry of cranes summoned by the clanging of the girdles, accompanied by the noise of peacocks shut up in the zenana and rejoicing in the thunder caused by the stairs being struck by stumbling feet, (172) soft with the murmur of kalahamsas fluttering in fear of the clash of fresh clouds, imitating the triumphant cry of Love, taking captive the ears of lovely women with their ropes of jewels resounding shrilly as they touched one another, and re-echoing through all the corners of the houses. In a moment the dense throng of maidens made the palaces seem walled with women; the ground seemed to blossom by the laying on it of their lac-strewn lotus-feet; the city seemed girt with grace by the stream of fair forms; the sky seemed all moon by the throng of orbed faces; the circle of space seemed a lotus-grove by reason of the hands all raised to ward off the heat; the sunshine seemed robed in rainbows by the mass of rays from the jewels, and the day seemed formed of blue lotus-petals by the long line of bright glances. As the women gazed on him with eyes fixed and widened in curiosity, the form of Candrapida entered into their hearts as though they were mirrors or water or crystal; and as the glow of love manifested itself there, their graceful speech became straightway mirthful, confidential, confused, envious, scornful, derisive, coquettish, loving, or full of longing. (173) As, for instance: 'Hasty one, wait for me! Drunk with gazing, hold thy mantle! Simpleton, lift up the long tresses that hang about thy face! Remove thy moon-digit ornament! Blinded with love, thy feet are caught in the flowers of thine offering, and thou wilt fall! Love-distraught, tie up thy hair! Intent on the sight of Candrapida, raise thy girdle! Naughty one, lift up the ear-flower waving on thy cheek! Heartless one, pick up thine earring! Eager in youth, thou art being watched! Cover thy bosom! Shameless one, gather up thy loosened robe! Artfully artless, go on quicker! Inquisitive girl, take another look at the king! Insatiable, how long wilt thou look? Fickle-hearted, think of thine own people! Impish girl, thy mantle has fallen, and thou art mocked! Thou whose eyes art filled with love, seest thou not thy friends? Maiden full of guile, thou wilt live in sorrow with thy heart in causeless torment! Thou who feignest coyness, what mean thy crafty glances? (174) look boldly! Bright with youth, why rest thy weight against us? Angry one, go in front! Envious girl, why block up the window? Slave of love, thou bringest my outer robe to utter ruin! Drunk with love's breath, restrain thyself! Devoid of self-control, why run before thine elders? Bright in strength, why so confused? Silly girl, hide the thrill of love's fever! Ill-behaved girl, why thus weary thyself? Changeful one, thy girdle presseth thee, and thou sufferest vainly! Absent-minded, thou heedest not thyself, though outside thy house! Lost in curiosity, thou hast forgotten how to breathe! Thou whose eyes art closed in the happy imagination of union with thy beloved, open them! He is passing! Bereft of sense by the stroke of love's arrow, place the end of thy silken robe on thy head to keep off the sun's rays! Thou who hast taken the vow of Sati, thou lettest thine eyes wander, not seeing what is to be seen! Wretched one, thou art cast down by the vow not to gaze on other men! Vouchsafe to rise, dear friend, and to look at the blessed fish-bannered god, [219] without his banner and bereft of Rati, visibly present. (175) His crest of malati flowers under his umbrella looks like a mass of moonbeams fallen in under the idea that night has set in, on his head dark with swarms of bees. His cheek is fair as a garland of open çirisha flowers touched with green by the splendour of his emerald earring. Our youthful glow of love, under the guise of rich ruby rays among the pearl necklaces, shines out eager to enter his heart. It is so seen by him among the cowries. Moreover, what is he laughing at as he talks to Vaiçampayana, so that the circle of space is whitened with his bright teeth? Balahaka, with the edge of his silken mantle green as a parrot's plumage, is removing from the tips of his hair the dust raised by the horses' hoofs. His bough-like foot, soft as Lakshmi's lotus-hand, is raised and sportively cast athwart his horse's shoulder. His hand, with tapering fingers and bright as pink lotus-buds, is outstretched to its full length to ask for betel-nut, just as an elephant's trunk in eagerness for mouthfuls of vallisneria. (176) Happy is she who, a fellow-bride with earth, shall, like Lakshmi, win that hand outvying the lotus! Happy, too, is Queen Vilasavati, by whom he who is able to bear the whole earth was nourished in birth, as the elephant of the quarters by Space!' '"And as they uttered these and other sayings of the same kind, Candrapida, drunk in by their eyes, summoned by the tinkling of their ornaments, followed by their hearts, bound by the ropes of the rays of their jewels, honoured with the offering of their fresh youth, bestrewn with flowers and rice in salutation like a marriage fire, advancing step by step on a mass of white bracelets slipping from their languid arms, reached the palace."' [Dismounting and leaning on Vaiçampayana, he entered the court, preceded by Balahaka, and passing through the crowd of attendant kings, beheld his father seated on a white couch and attended by his guards. [220]] '"(189) And on the chamberlain's saying 'Behold him!' the prince, with his head bent low, and its crest shaking, while yet afar off made his salutation, and his father, crying from afar, 'Come, come hither!' stretched forth both arms, raised himself slightly from his couch, while his eyes filled with tears of joy and a thrill passed over his body, and embraced his reverently-bent son as though he would bind him fast [221] and absorb him, and drink him in. And after the embrace, Candrapida sat down on the bare ground by his father's footstool, kicking away the cloak which had been rolled up and hastily made into a seat by his own betel-nut bearer, and softly bidding her take it away; (190) and then Vaiçampayana, being embraced by the king like his own son, sat down on a seat placed for him. When he had been there a short time, assailed, as it were, by glances from the women who stood motionless, with the waving of the cowries forgotten, glances of love, long as strings of lotus stirred by the wind, from fine eyes tremulous and askant, he was dismissed with the words, 'Go, my son, salute thy loving mother, who longs to see thee, and then in turn gladden all who nurtured thee by thy sight.' Respectfully rising, and stopping his suite from following him, he went with Vaiçampayana to the zenana, led by the royal servants meet to enter therein, and approaching his mother, saluted her"' [as she sat surrounded by her attendants and by aged ascetic women, who read and recited legends to her [222]]. '"(191) She raised him, while her attendants, skilled in doing her commands, stood around her, and, with a loving caress, held him in a long embrace, as though thinking inwardly of a hundred auspicious words to say, and straightway, when the claims of affection had been satisfied, and she had embraced Vaiçampayana, she sat down, and drew Candrapida, who was reverently seated on the ground, forcibly and against his will to rest in her arms; (192) and when Vaiçampayana was seated on a stool quickly brought by the attendants, she embraced Candrapida again and again on brow, breast, and shoulders, and said, with many a caressing touch: 'Hard-hearted, my child, was thy father, by whom so fair a form, meet to be cherished by the whole universe, was made to undergo great fatigue for so long! How didst thou endure the tedious restraint of thy gurus? Indeed, young as thou art, thou hast a strong man's fortitude! Thy heart, even in childhood, has lost all idle liking for childish amusement and play. Ah well, all devotion to natural and spiritual parents is something apart; and as I now see thee endowed, by thy father's favour, with all knowledge, so I shall soon see thee endowed with worthy wives.' Having thus said as he bent his head, smiling half in shame, she kissed him on the cheek, which was a full reflection of her own, and garlanded with open lotuses; and he, when he had stayed a short time, gladdened in turn by his presence the whole zenana. Then, departing by the royal door, he mounted Indrayudha, who was standing outside, and, followed by the princes, went to see Çukanasa,"' [and at the gate of an outer court, filled with priests of many sects, he dismounted [223]] '"(194) and entered the palace of Çukanasa, which resembled a second royal court. On entering he saluted Çukanasa like a second father as he stood in the midst of thousands of kings, showing him all respect, with his crest bent low even from afar. Çukanasa, quickly rising, while the kings rose one after another, and respectfully advancing straight to him, with tears of joy falling from eyes wide with gladness, heartily, and with great affection, embraced him, together with Vaiçampayana. Then the prince, rejecting the jewelled seat respectfully brought, sat on the bare ground, and next to him sat Vaiçampayana; and when he sat on the ground, the whole circle of kings, except Çukanasa, leaving their own seats, sat also on the ground. Çukanasa stood silent for a moment, showing his extreme joy by the thrill that passed over his limbs, and then said to the prince: 'Truly, my child, now that King Tarapida has seen thee grown to youth and possessed of knowledge, he has at length gained the fruit of his rule over the universe. Now all the blessings of thy parents have been fulfilled. Now the merit acquired in many other births has borne fruit. Now the gods of thy race are content. (195) For they who, like thee, astonish the three worlds, do not become the sons of the unworthy. For where is thy age? and where thy superhuman power and thy capacity of reaching boundless knowledge? Yea, blessed are those subjects who have thee for their protector, one like unto Bharata and Bhagiratha. What bright deed of merit was done by Earth that she has won thee as lord? Surely, Lakshmi is destroyed by persisting in the caprice of dwelling in Vishnu's bosom, that she does not approach thee in mortal form! But, nevertheless, do thou with thine arm, as the Great Boar with his circle of tusks, bear up for myriads of ages the weight of the earth, helping thy father.' Thus saying, and offering homage with ornaments, dresses, flowers, and unguents, he dismissed him. Thereupon the prince, rising, and entering the zenana, visited Vaiçampayana's mother, by name Manorama, and, departing, mounted Indrayudha, and went to his palace. It had been previously arranged by his father, and had white jars filled and placed on the gates, like an image of the royal palace; it had garlands of green sandal boughs, thousands of white flags flying, and filled the air with the sound of auspicious instruments of music; open lotuses were strewn in it. A sacrifice to Agni had just been performed, every attendant was in bright apparel, every auspicious ceremony for entering a house had been prepared. On his arrival he sat for a short time on a couch placed in the hall, and then, together with his princely retinue, performed the day's duties, beginning with bathing and ending with a banquet; (196) and meanwhile he arranged that Indrayudha should dwell in his own chamber. '"And in these doings of his the day came to a close; the sun's orb fell with lifted rays like the ruby anklet--its interstices veiled in its own light--of the Glory of Day, as she hastens from the sky. (198) And when evening had begun, Candrapida, encircled by a fence of lighted lamps, went on foot to the king's palace, (199) and having stayed a short time with his father, and seen Vilasavati, he returned to his own house and lay down on a couch, many-hued with the radiance of various gems, like Krishna on the circle of Çesha's hoods. '"And when night had turned to dawn, he, with his father's leave, rose before sunrise, in eagerness for the new delight of hunting, and, mounting Indrayudha, went to the wood with a great retinue of runners, horses, and elephants. His eagerness was doubled by huntsmen leading in a golden leash hounds large as asses. With arrows whose shafts were bright as the leaves of a blossoming lotus, and fit to cleave the frontal bones of young wild elephants, he slew wild boars, lions, çarabhas, [224] yaks, and many other kinds of deer by thousands, (200) while the woodland goddesses looked at him with half-closed eyes, fluttered by fear of the twanging of his bow. Other animals by his great energy he took alive. And when the sun reached the zenith, he rode home from the wood (201) with but a few princes who were well mounted, going over the events of the chase, saying: 'Thus I killed a lion, thus a bear, thus a buffalo, thus a çarabha, thus a stag.' '"On dismounting, he sat down on a seat brought hastily by his attendants, took off his corselet, and removed the rest of his riding apparel; he then rested a short time, till his weariness was removed by the wind of waving fans; having rested, he went to the bathroom, provided with a hundred pitchers of gold, silver, and jewels, and having a gold seat placed in its midst. And when the bath was over, and he had been rubbed in a separate room with cloths, his head was covered with a strip of pure linen, his raiment was put on, and he performed his homage to the gods; and when he entered the perfuming-room, there approached him the court women attendants, appointed by the grand chamberlain and sent by the king, slaves of Vilasavati, with Kulavardhana, and zenana women sent from the whole zenana, bearing in baskets different ornaments, wreaths, unguents, and robes, which they presented to him. Having taken them in due order from the women, he first himself anointed Vaiçampayana. When his own anointing was done, and giving to those around him flowers, perfumes, robes, and jewels, as was meet, (202) he went to the banquet-hall, rich in a thousand jewelled vessels, like the autumn sky gleaming with stars. He there sat on a doubled rug, with Vaiçampayana next him, eagerly employed, as was fitting, in praising his virtues, and the host of princes, placed each in order of seniority on the ground, felt the pleasure of their service increased by seeing the great courtesy with which the prince said: 'Let this be given to him, and that to him!' And so he duly partook of his morning meal. '"After rinsing his mouth and taking betel, he stayed there a short time, and then went to Indrayudha, and there, without sitting down, while his attendants stood behind him, with upraised faces, awaiting his commands, and talking mostly about Indrayudha's points, he himself, with heart uplifted by Indrayudha's merits, scattered the fodder before him, and departing, visited the court; and in the same order of routine he saw the king, and, returning home, spent the night there. Next day, at dawn, he beheld approaching a chamberlain, by name Kailasa, the chief of the zenana, greatly trusted by the king, accompanied by a maiden of noble form, in her first youth, from her life at court self-possessed, yet not devoid of modesty, (203) growing to maidenhood, and in her veil of silk red with cochineal, resembling the Eastern quarter clothed in early sunshine. (204) And Kailasa, bowing and approaching, with his right hand placed on the ground, spoke as follows: '"'Prince, Queen Vilasavati bids me say: "This maiden, by name Patralekha, daughter of the King of Kuluta, was brought with the captives by the great king on his conquest of the royal city of Kuluta while she was yet a little child, and was placed among the zenana women. And tenderness grew up in me towards her, seeing she was a king's daughter and without a protector, and she was long cared for and brought up by me just like a daughter. Therefore, I now send her to thee, thinking her fit to be thy betel-bearer; but she must not be looked on by thee, great prince of many days, as thine other attendants. She must be cared for as a young maiden; she must be shielded from the thoughtless like thine own nature; she must be looked on as a pupil. (205) Like a friend, she must be admitted to all thy confidences. By reason of the love that has long grown up in me, my heart rests on her as on my own daughter; and being sprung from a great race, she is fitted for such duties; in truth, she herself will in a few days charm the prince by her perfect gentleness. My love for her is of long growth, and therefore strong; but as the prince does not yet know her character, this is told to him. Thou must in all ways strive, happy prince, that she may long be thy fitting companion."' When Kailasa had thus spoken and was silent, Candrapida looked long and steadily at Patralekha as she made a courteous obeisance, and with the words, 'As my mother wishes,' dismissed the chamberlain. And Patralekha, from her first sight of him, was filled with devotion to him, and never left the prince's side either by night or day, whether he was sleeping, or sitting, or standing, or walking, or going to the court, just as if she were his shadow; while he felt for her a great affection, beginning from his first glance at her, and constantly growing; he daily showed more favour to her, and counted her in all his secrets as part of his own heart. '"As the days thus passed on, the king, eager for the anointing of Candrapida as crown prince, (206) appointed chamberlains to gather together all things needful for it; and when it was at hand, Çukanasa, desirous of increasing the prince's modesty, great as it already was, spoke to him at length during one of his visits: 'Dear Candrapida, though thou hast learnt what is to be known, and read all the çastras, no little remains for thee to learn. For truly the darkness arising from youth is by nature very thick, nor can it be pierced by the sun, nor cleft by the radiance of jewels, nor dispelled by the brightness of lamps. The intoxication of Lakshmi is terrible, and does not cease even in old age. There is, too, another blindness of power, evil, not to be cured by any salve. The fever of pride runs very high, and no cooling appliances can allay it. The madness that rises from tasting the poison of the senses is violent, and not to be counteracted by roots or charms. The defilement of the stain of passion is never destroyed by bathing or purification. The sleep of the multitude of royal pleasures is ever terrible, and the end of night brings no waking. Thus thou must often be told at length. Lordship inherited even from birth, fresh youth, peerless beauty, superhuman talent, all this is a long succession of ills. (207) Each of these separately is a home of insolence; how much more the assemblage of them! For in early youth the mind often loses its purity, though it be cleansed with the pure waters of the çastras. The eyes of the young become inflamed, though their clearness is not quite lost. Nature, too, when the whirlwind of passion arises, carries a man far in youth at its own will, like a dry leaf borne on the wind. This mirage of pleasure, which captivates the senses as if they were deer, always ends in sorrow. When the mind has its consciousness dulled by early youth, the characteristics of the outer world fall on it like water, all the more sweetly for being but just tasted. Extreme clinging to the things of sense destroys a man, misleading him like ignorance of his bearings. But men such as thou art the fitting vessels for instruction. For on a mind free from stain the virtue of good counsel enters easily, as the moon's rays on a moon crystal. The words of a guru, though pure, yet cause great pain when they enter the ears of the bad, as water does; (208) while in others they produce a nobler beauty, like the ear-jewel on an elephant. They remove the thick darkness of many sins, like the moon in the gloaming. [225] The teaching of a guru is calming, and brings to an end the faults of youth by turning them to virtue, just as old age takes away the dark stain of the locks by turning them to gray. This is the time to teach thee, while thou hast not yet tasted the pleasures of sense. For teaching pours away like water in a heart shattered by the stroke of love's arrow. Family and sacred tradition are unavailing to the froward and undisciplined. Does a fire not burn when fed on sandal-wood? Is not the submarine fire the fiercer in the water that is wont to quench fire? But the words of a guru are a bathing without water, able to cleanse all the stains of man; they are a maturity that changes not the locks to gray; they give weight without increase of bulk; though not wrought of gold, they are an ear-jewel of no common order; without light they shine; without startling they awaken. They are specially needed for kings, for the admonishers of kings are few. (209) For from fear, men follow like an echo the words of kings, and so, being unbridled in their pride, and having the cavity of their ears wholly stopped, they do not hear good advice even when offered; and when they do hear, by closing their eyes like an elephant, they show their contempt, and pain the teachers who offer them good counsel. For the nature of kings, being darkened by the madness of pride's fever, is perturbed; their wealth causes arrogance and false self-esteem; their royal glory causes the torpor brought about by the poison of kingly power. First, let one who strives after happiness look at Lakshmi. For this Lakshmi, who now rests like a bee on the lotus-grove of a circle of naked swords, has risen from the milk ocean, has taken her glow from the buds of the coral-tree, her crookedness from the moon's digit, her restlessness from the steed Uccaihçrava, her witchery from Kalakuta poison, her intoxication from nectar, and from the Kaustubha gem her hardness. (210) All these she has taken as keepsakes to relieve her longing with memory of her companions' friendship. There is nothing so little understood here in the world as this base Lakshmi. When won, she is hard to keep; when bound fast by the firm cords of heroism, she vanishes; when held by a cage of swords brandished by a thousand fierce champions, she yet escapes; when guarded by a thick band of elephants, dark with a storm of ichor, she yet flees away. She keeps not friendships; she regards not race; she recks not of beauty; she follows not the fortunes of a family; she looks not on character; she counts not cleverness; she hears not sacred learning; she courts not righteousness; she honours not liberality; she values not discrimination; she guards not conduct; she understands not truth; she makes not auspicious marks her guide; like the outline of an aërial city, she vanishes even as we look on her. She is still dizzy with the feeling produced by the eddying of the whirlpool made by Mount Mandara. As if she were the tip of a lotus-stalk bound to the varying motion of a lotus-bed, she gives no firm foothold anywhere. Even when held fast with great effort in palaces, she totters as if drunk with the ichor of their many wild elephants. (211) She dwells on the sword's edge as if to learn cruelty. She clings to the form of Narayana as if to learn constant change of form. Full of fickleness, she leaves even a king, richly endowed with friends, judicial power, treasure, and territory, as she leaves a lotus at the end of day, though it have root, stalk, bud, and wide-spreading petals. Like a creeper, she is ever a parasite. [226] Like Ganga, though producing wealth, she is all astir with bubbles; like the sun's ray, she alights on one thing after another; like the cavity of hell, she is full of dense darkness. Like the demon Hidamba, her heart is only won by the courage of a Bhima; like the rainy season, she sends forth but a momentary flash; like an evil demon, she, with the height of many men, [227] crazes the feeble mind. As if jealous, she embraces not him whom learning has favoured; she touches not the virtuous man, as being impure; she despises a lofty nature as unpropitious; she regards not the gently-born, as useless. She leaps over a courteous man as a snake; (212) she avoids a hero as a thorn; she forgets a giver as a nightmare; she keeps far from a temperate man as a villain; she mocks at the wise as a fool; she manifests her ways in the world as if in a jugglery that unites contradictions. For, though creating constant fever, [228] she produces a chill; [229] though exalting men, she shows lowness of soul; though rising from water, she augments thirst; though bestowing lordship, [230] she shows an unlordly [231] nature; though loading men with power, she deprives them of weight; [232] though sister of nectar, she leaves a bitter taste; though of earthly mould, [233] she is invisible; though attached to the highest, [234] she loves the base; like a creature of dust, she soils even the pure. Moreover, let this wavering one shine as she may, she yet, like lamplight, only sends forth lamp-black. For she is the fostering rain of the poison-plants of desire, the hunter's luring song to the deer of the senses, the polluting smoke to the pictures of virtue, the luxurious couch of infatuation's long sleep, the ancient watch-tower of the demons of pride and wealth. (213) She is the cataract gathering over eyes lighted by the çastras, the banner of the reckless, the native stream of the alligators of wrath, the tavern of the mead of the senses, the music-hall of alluring dances, the lair of the serpents of sin, the rod to drive out good practices. She is the untimely rain to the kalahamsas [235] of the virtues, the hotbed of the pustules of scandal, the prologue of the drama of fraud, the roar of the elephant of passion, the slaughter-house of goodness, the tongue of Rahu for the moon of holiness. Nor see I any who has not been violently embraced by her while she was yet unknown to him, and whom she has not deceived. Truly, even in a picture she moves; even in a book she practises magic; even cut in a gem she deceives; even when heard she misleads; even when thought on she betrays. '"'When this wretched evil creature wins kings after great toil by the will of destiny, they become helpless, and the abode of every shameful deed. For at the very moment of coronation their graciousness is washed away as if by the auspicious water-jars; (214) their heart is darkened as by the smoke of the sacrificial fire; their patience is swept away as by the kuça brooms of the priest; their remembrance of advancing age is concealed as by the donning of the turban; the sight of the next world is kept afar as by the umbrella's circle; truth is removed as by the wind of the cowries; virtue is driven out as by the wands of office; the voices of the good are drowned as by cries of "All hail!" and glory is flouted as by the streamers of the banners. '"'For some kings are deceived by successes which are uncertain as the tremulous beaks of birds when loose from weariness, and which, though pleasant for a moment as a firefly's flash, are contemned by the wise; they forget their origin in the pride of amassing a little wealth, and are troubled by the onrush of passion as by a blood-poisoning brought on by accumulated diseases; they are tortured by the senses, which though but five, in their eagerness to taste every pleasure, turn to a thousand; they are bewildered by the mind, which, in native fickleness, follows its own impulses, and, being but one, gets the force of a hundred thousand in its changes. Thus they fall into utter helplessness. They are seized by demons, conquered by imps, (215) possessed by enchantments, held by monsters, mocked by the wind, swallowed by ogres. Pierced by the arrows of Kama, they make a thousand contortions; scorched by covetousness, they writhe; struck down by fierce blows, they sink down. [236] Like crabs, they sidle; like cripples, with steps broken by sin, they are led helpless by others; like stammerers from former sins of falsehood, they can scarce babble; like saptacchada [237] trees, they produce headache in those near them; like dying men, they know not even their kin; like purblind [238] men, they cannot see the brightest virtue; like men bitten in a fatal hour, they are not waked even by mighty charms; like lac-ornaments, they cannot endure strong heat; [239] like rogue elephants, being firmly fixed to the pillar of self-conceit, they refuse teaching; bewildered by the poison of covetousness, they see everything as golden; like arrows sharpened by polishing, [240] when in the hands of others they cause destruction; (216) with their rods [241] they strike down great families, like high-growing fruit; like untimely blossoms, though fair outwardly, they cause destruction; they are terrible of nature, like the ashes of a funeral pyre; like men with cataract, they can see no distance; like men possessed, they have their houses ruled by court jesters; when but heard of, they terrify, like funeral drums; when but thought of, like a resolve to commit mortal sin, they bring about great calamity; being daily filled with sin, they become wholly puffed up. In this state, having allied themselves to a hundred sins, they are like drops of water hanging on the tip of the grass on an anthill, and have fallen without perceiving it. '"'But others are deceived by rogues intent on their own ends, greedy of the flesh-pots of wealth, cranes of the palace lotus-beds! "Gambling," say these, "is a relaxation; adultery a sign of cleverness; hunting, exercise; drinking, delight; recklessness, heroism; neglect of a wife, freedom from infatuation; (217) contempt of a guru's words, a claim to others' submission; unruliness of servants, the ensuring of pleasant service; devotion to dance, song, music, and bad company, is knowledge of the world; hearkening to shameful crimes is greatness of mind; tame endurance of contempt is patience; self-will is lordship; disregard of the gods is high spirit; the praise of bards is glory; restlessness is enterprise; lack of discernment is impartiality." Thus are kings deceived with more than mortal praises by men ready to raise faults to the grade of virtues, practised in deception, laughing in their hearts, utterly villainous; and thus these monarchs, by reason of their senselessness, have their minds intoxicated by the pride of wealth, and have a settled false conceit in them that these things are really so; though subject to mortal conditions, they look on themselves as having alighted on earth as divine beings with a superhuman destiny; they employ a pomp in their undertakings only fit for gods (218) and win the contempt of all mankind. They welcome this deception of themselves by their followers. From the delusion as to their own divinity established in their minds, they are overthrown by false ideas, and they think their own pair of arms have received another pair; [242] they imagine their forehead has a third eye buried in the skin. [243] They consider the sight of themselves a favour; they esteem their glance a benefit; they regard their words as a present; they hold their command a glorious boon; they deem their touch a purification. Weighed down by the pride of their false greatness, they neither do homage to the gods, nor reverence Brahmans, nor honour the honourable, nor salute those to whom salutes are due, nor address those who should be addressed, nor rise to greet their gurus. They laugh at the learned as losing in useless labour all the enjoyment of pleasure; they look on the teaching of the old as the wandering talk of dotage; they abuse the advice of their councillors as an insult to their own wisdom; they are wroth with the giver of good counsel. '"'At all events, the man they welcome, with whom they converse, whom they place by their side, advance, (219) take as companion of their pleasure and recipient of their gifts, choose as a friend, the man to whose voice they listen, on whom they rain favours, of whom they think highly, in whom they trust, is he who does nothing day and night but ceaselessly salute them, praise them as divine, and exalt their greatness. '"'What can we expect of those kings whose standard is a law of deceit, pitiless in the cruelty of its maxims; whose gurus are family priests, with natures made merciless by magic rites; whose teachers are councillors skilled to deceive others; whose hearts are set on a power that hundreds of kings before them have gained and lost; whose skill in weapons is only to inflict death; whose brothers, tender as their hearts may be with natural affection, are only to be slaughtered. '"'Therefore, my Prince, in this post of empire which is terrible in the hundreds of evil and perverse impulses which attend it, and in this season of youth which leads to utter infatuation, thou must strive earnestly not to be scorned by thy people, nor blamed by the good, nor cursed by thy gurus, nor reproached by thy friends, nor grieved over by the wise. Strive, too, that thou be not exposed by knaves, (220) deceived by sharpers, preyed upon by villains, torn to pieces by wolvish courtiers, misled by rascals, deluded by women, cheated by fortune, led a wild dance by pride, maddened by desire, assailed by the things of sense, dragged headlong by passion, carried away by pleasure. '"'Granted that by nature thou art steadfast, and that by thy father's care thou art trained in goodness, and moreover, that wealth only intoxicates the light of nature, and the thoughtless, yet my very delight in thy virtues makes me speak thus at length. '"'Let this saying be ever ringing in thine ears: There is none so wise, so prudent, so magnanimous, so gracious, so steadfast, and so earnest, that the shameless wretch Fortune cannot grind him to powder. Yet now mayest thou enjoy the consecration of thy youth to kinghood by thy father under happy auspices. Bear the yoke handed down to thee that thy forefathers have borne. Bow the heads of thy foes; raise the host of thy friends; after thy coronation wander round the world for conquest; and bring under thy sway the earth with its seven continents subdued of yore by thy father. '"'This is the time to crown thyself with glory. (221) A glorious king has his commands fulfilled as swiftly as a great ascetic.' '"Having said thus much, he was silent, and by his words Candrapida was, as it were, washed, wakened, purified, brightened, bedewed, anointed, adorned, cleansed, and made radiant, and with glad heart he returned after a short time to his own palace. '"Some days later, on an auspicious day, the king, surrounded by a thousand chiefs, raised aloft, with Çukanasa's help, the vessel of consecration, and himself anointed his son, while the rest of the rites were performed by the family priest. The water of consecration was brought from every sacred pool, river and ocean, encircled by every plant, fruit, earth, and gem, mingled with tears of joy, and purified by mantras. At that very moment, while the prince was yet wet with the water of consecration, royal glory passed on to him without leaving Tarapida, as a creeper still clasping its own tree passes to another. (222) Straightway he was anointed from head to foot by Vilasavati, attended by all the zenana, and full of tender love, with sweet sandal white as moonbeams. He was garlanded with fresh white flowers; decked [244] with lines of gorocana; adorned with an earring of durva grass; clad in two new silken robes with long fringes, white as the moon; bound with an amulet round his hand, tied by the family priest; and had his breast encircled by a pearl-necklace, like the circle of the Seven Rishis come down to see his coronation, strung on filaments from the lotus-pool of the royal fortune of young royalty. '"From the complete concealment of his body by wreaths of white flowers interwoven and hanging to his knees, soft as moonbeams, and from his wearing snowy robes he was like Narasimha, shaking his thick mane, [245] or like Kailasa, with its flowing streams, or Airavata, rough with the tangled lotus-fibres of the heavenly Ganges, or the Milky Ocean, all covered with flakes of bright foam. (223) '"Then his father himself for that time took the chamberlain's wand to make way for him, and he went to the hall of assembly and mounted the royal throne, like the moon on Meru's peak. Then, when he had received due homage from the kings, after a short pause the great drum that heralded his setting out on his triumphal course resounded deeply, under the stroke of golden drum-sticks. Its sound was as the noise of clouds gathering at the day of doom; or the ocean struck by Mandara; or the foundations of earth by the earthquakes that close an aeon; or a portent-cloud, with its flashes of lightning; or the hollow of hell by the blows of the snout of the Great Boar. And by its sound the spaces of the world were inflated, opened, separated, outspread, filled, turned sunwise, and deepened, and the bonds that held the sky were unloosed. The echo of it wandered through the three worlds; for it was embraced in the lower world by Çesha, with his thousand hoods raised and bristling in fear; it was challenged in space by the elephants of the quarters tossing their tusks in opposition; it was honoured with sunwise turns in the sky by the sun's steeds, tossing [246] their heads in their snort of terror; (224) it was wondrously answered on Kailasa's peak by Çiva's bull, with a roar of joy in the belief that it was his master's loudest laugh; it was met in Meru by Airavata, with deep trumpeting; it was reverenced in the hall of the gods by Yama's bull, with his curved horns turned sideways in wrath at so strange a sound; and it was heard in terror by the guardian gods of the world. '"Then, at the roar of the drum, followed by an outcry of 'All hail!' from all sides, Candrapida came down from the throne, and with him went the glory of his foes. He left the hall of assembly, followed by a thousand chiefs, who rose hastily around him, strewing on all sides the large pearls that fell from the strings of their necklaces as they struck against each other, like rice sportively thrown as a good omen for their setting off to conquer the world. He showed like the coral-tree amid the white buds of the kalpa-trees; [247] or Airavata amid the elephants of the quarters bedewing him with water from their trunks; or heaven, with the firmament showering stars; or the rainy season with clouds ever pouring heavy drops. (225) '"Then an elephant was hastily brought by the mahout, adorned with all auspicious signs for the journey, and on the inner seat Patralekha was placed. The prince then mounted, and under the shade of an umbrella with a hundred wires enmeshed with pearls, beauteous as Kailasa standing on the arms of Ravana, and white as the whirlpools of the Milky Ocean under the tossing of the mountain, he started on his journey. And as he paused in his departure he saw the ten quarters tawny with the rich sunlight, surpassing molten lac, of the flashing crest-jewels of the kings who watched him with faces hidden behind the ramparts, as if the light were the fire of his own majesty, flashing forth after his coronation. He saw the earth bright as if with his own glow of loyalty when anointed as heir-apparent, and the sky crimson as with the flame that heralded the swift destruction of his foes, and daylight roseate as with lac-juice from the feet of the Lakshmi of earth coming to greet him. '"On the way hosts of kings, with their thousand elephants swaying in confusion, their umbrellas broken by the pressure of the crowd, their crest-jewels falling low as their diadems bent in homage, (226) their earrings hanging down, and the jewels falling on their cheeks, bowed low before him, as a trusted general recited their names. The elephant Gandhamadana followed the prince, pink with much red lead, dangling to the ground his ear-ornaments of pearls, having his head outlined with many a wreath of white flowers, like Meru with evening sunlight resting on it, the white stream of Ganges falling across it, and the spangled roughness of a bevy of stars on its peak. Before Candrapida went Indrayudha, led by his groom, perfumed with saffron and many-hued, with the flash of golden trappings on his limbs. And so the expedition slowly started towards the Eastern Quarter. [248] '"Then the whole army set forth with wondrous turmoil, with its forest of umbrellas stirred by the elephants' movements, like an ocean of destruction reflecting on its advancing waves a thousand moons, flooding the earth. (227) '"When the prince left his palace Vaiçampayana performed every auspicious rite, and then, clothed in white, anointed with an ointment of white flowers, accompanied by a great host of powerful kings, shaded by a white umbrella, followed close on the prince, mounted on a swift elephant, like a second Crown Prince, and drew near to him like the moon to the sun. Straightway the earth heard on all sides the cry: 'The Crown Prince has started!' and shook with the weight of the advancing army. (228) '"In an instant the earth seemed as it were made of horses; the horizon, of elephants; the atmosphere, of umbrellas; the sky, of forests of pennons; the wind, of the scent of ichor; the human race, of kings; the eye, of the rays of jewels; the day, of crests; the universe, of cries of 'All hail!' (228-234 condensed) '"The dust rose at the advance of the army like a herd of elephants to tear up the lotuses of the sunbeams, or a veil to cover the Lakshmi of the three worlds. Day became earthy; the quarters were modelled in clay; the sky was, as it were, resolved in dust, and the whole universe appeared to consist of but one element. (234) '"When the horizon became clear again, Vaiçampayana, looking at the mighty host which seemed to rise from the ocean, was filled with wonder, and, turning his glance on every side, said to Candrapida: 'What, prince, has been left unconquered by the mighty King Tarapida, for thee to conquer? What regions unsubdued, for thee to subdue? (235) What fortresses untaken, for thee to take? What continents unappropriated, for thee to appropriate? What treasures ungained, for thee to gain? What kings have not been humbled? By whom have the raised hands of salutation, soft as young lotuses, not been placed on the head? By whose brows, encircled with golden bands, have the floors of his halls not been polished? Whose crest-jewels have not scraped his footstool? Who have not accepted his staff of office? Who have not waved his cowries? Who have not raised the cry of "Hail!"? Who have not drunk in with the crocodiles of their crests, the radiance of his feet, like pure streams? For all these princes, though they are imbued with the pride of armies, ready in their rough play to plunge into the four oceans; though they are the peers of the great kings Daçaratha, Bhagiratha, Bharata, Dilipa, Alarka, and Mandhatri; though they are anointed princes, soma-drinkers, haughty in the pride of birth, yet they bear on the sprays of crests purified with the shower of the water of consecration the dust of thy feet of happy omen, like an amulet of ashes. By them as by fresh noble mountains, the earth is upheld. These their armies that have entered the heart of the ten regions follow thee alone. (236) For lo! wherever thy glance is cast, hell seems to vomit forth armies, the earth to bear them, the quarters to discharge them, the sky to rain them, the day to create them. And methinks the earth, trampled by the weight of boundless hosts, recalls to-day the confusion of the battles of the Mahabharata. '"'Here the sun wanders in the groves of pennons, with his orb stumbling over their tops, as if he were trying, out of curiosity, to count the banners. The earth is ceaselessly submerged under ichor sweet as cardamons, and flowing like a plait of hair, from the elephants who scatter it all round, and thick, too, with the murmur of the bees settling on it, so that it shines as if filled with the waves of Yamuna. The lines of moon-white flags hide the horizon, like rivers that in fear of being made turbid by the heavy host have fled to the sky. It is a wonder that the earth has not to-day been split into a thousand pieces by the weight of the army; and that the bonds of its joints, the noble mountains, are not burst asunder; and that the hoods of Çesha, the lord of serpents, in distress at the burden of earth pressed down under the load of troops, do not give way.' (237) '"While he was thus speaking, the prince reached his palace. It was adorned with many lofty triumphal arches; dotted with a thousand pavilions enclosed in grassy ramparts, and bright with many a tent of shining white cloth. Here he dismounted, and performed in kingly wise all due rites; and though the kings and ministers who had come together sought to divert him with various tales, he spent the rest of the day in sorrow, for his heart was tortured with bitter grief for his fresh separation from his father. When day was brought to a close he passed the night, too, mostly in sleeplessness, with Vaiçampayana resting on a couch not far from his own, and Patralekha sleeping hard by on a blanket placed on the ground; his talk was now of his father, now of his mother, now of Çukanasa, and he rested but little. At dawn he arose, and with an army that grew at every march, as it advanced in unchanged order, he hollowed the earth, shook the mountains, dried the rivers, emptied the lakes, (238) crushed the woods to powder, levelled the crooked places, tore down the fortresses, filled up the hollows, and hollowed the solid ground. '"By degrees, as he wandered at will, he bowed the haughty, exalted the humble, encouraged the fearful, protected the suppliant, rooted out the vicious, and drove out the hostile. He anointed princes in different places, gathered treasures, accepted gifts, took tribute, taught local regulations, established monuments of his visit, made hymns of worship, and inscribed edicts. He honoured Brahmans, reverenced saints, protected hermitages, and showed a prowess that won his people's love. He exalted his majesty, heaped up his glory, showed his virtues far and wide, and won renown for his good deeds. Thus trampling down the woods on the shore, and turning the whole expanse of ocean to gray with the dust of his army, he wandered over the earth. '"The East was his first conquest, then the Southern Quarter, marked by Triçanku, then the Western Quarter, which has Varuna for its sign, and immediately afterwards the Northern Quarter adorned by the Seven Rishis. Within the three years that he roamed over the world he had subdued the whole earth, with its continents, bounded only by the moat of four oceans. (239) '"He then, wandering sunwise, conquered and occupied Suvarnapura, not far from the Eastern Ocean, the abode of those Kiratas who dwell near Kailasa, and are called Hemajakutas, and as his army was weary from its worldwide wandering, he encamped there for a few days to rest. '"One day during his sojourn there he mounted Indrayudha to hunt, and as he roamed through the wood he beheld a pair of Kinnaras wandering down at will from the mountains. Wondering at the strange sight, and eager to take them, he brought up his horse respectfully near them and approached them. But they hurried on, fearing the unknown sight of a man, and fleeing from him, while he pursued them, doubling Indrayudha's speed by frequent pats on his neck, and went on alone, leaving his army far behind. Led on by the idea that he was just catching them, he was borne in an instant fifteen leagues from his own quarters by Indrayudha's speed as it were at one bound, and was left companionless. (240) The pair of Kinnaras he was pursuing were climbing a steep hill in front of him. He at length turned away his glance, which was following their progress, and, checked by the steepness of the ascent, reined in Indrayudha. Then, seeing that both his horse and himself were tired and heated by their toils, he considered for a moment, and laughed at himself as he thought: 'Why have I thus wearied myself for nothing, like a child? What matters it whether I catch the pair of Kinnaras or not? If caught, what is the good? if missed, what is the harm? What a folly this is of mine! What a love of busying myself in any trifle! What a passion for aimless toil! What a clinging to childish pleasure! The good work I was doing has been begun in vain. The needful rite I had begun has been rendered fruitless. The duty of friendship I undertook has not been performed. The royal office I was employed in has not been fulfilled. The great task I had entered on has not been completed. My earnest labour in a worthy ambition has been brought to nought. Why have I been so mad as to leave my followers behind and come so far? (241) and why have I earned for myself the ridicule I should bestow on another, when I think how aimlessly I have followed these monsters with their horses' heads? I know not how far off is the army that follows me. For the swiftness of Indrayudha traverses a vast space in a moment, and his speed prevented my noticing as I came by what path I should turn back, for my eyes were fixed on the Kinnaras; and now I am in a great forest, spread underfoot with dry leaves, with a dense growth of creepers, underwood, and branching trees. Roam as I may here I cannot light on any mortal who can show me the way to Suvarnapura. I have often heard that Suvarnapura is the farthest bound of earth to the north, and that beyond it lies a supernatural forest, and beyond that again is Kailasa. This then is Kailasa; so I must turn back now, and resolutely seek to make my way unaided to the south. For a man must bear the fruit of his own faults.' '"With this purpose he shook the reins in his left hand, and turned the horse's head. Then he again reflected: (242) 'The blessed sun with glowing light now adorns the south, as if he were the zone-gem of the glory of day. Indrayudha is tired; I will just let him eat a few mouthfuls of grass, and then let him bathe and drink in some mountain rill or river; and when he is refreshed I will myself drink some water, and after resting a short time under the shade of a tree, I will set out again.' '"So thinking, constantly turning his eyes on every side for water, he wandered till at length he saw a track wet with masses of mud raised by the feet of a large troop of mountain elephants, who had lately come up from bathing in a lotus-pool. (243) Inferring thence that there was water near, he went straight on along the slope of Kailasa, the trees of which, closely crowded as they were, seemed, from their lack of boughs, to be far apart, for they were mostly pines, çal, and gum olibanum trees, and were lofty, and like a circle of umbrellas, to be gazed at with upraised head. There was thick yellow sand, and by reason of the stony soil the grass and shrubs were but scanty. (244) '"At length he beheld, on the north-east of Kailasa, a very lofty clump of trees, rising like a mass of clouds, heavy with its weight of rain, and massed as if with the darkness of a night in the dark fortnight. '"The wind from the waves, soft as sandal, dewy, cool from passing over the water, aromatic with flowers, met him, and seemed to woo him; and the cries of kalahamsas drunk with lotus-honey, charming his ear, summoned him to enter. So he went into that clump, and in its midst beheld the Acchoda Lake, as if it were the mirror of the Lakshmi of the three worlds, the crystal chamber of the goddess of earth, the path by which the waters of ocean escape, the oozing of the quarters, the avatar of part of the sky, Kailasa taught to flow, Himavat liquefied, moonlight melted, Çiva's smile turned to water, (245) the merit of the three worlds abiding in the shape of a lake, a range of hills of lapis lazuli changed into water, or a mass of autumn clouds poured down in one spot. From its clearness it might be Varuna's mirror; it seemed to be fashioned of the hearts of ascetics, the virtues of good men, the bright eyes of deer, or the rays of pearls. (247) '"Like the person of a great man, it showed clearly the signs of fish, crocodile, tortoise, and cakra; [249] like the story of Kartikeya, the lamentations of the wives of Krauñca [250] resounded in it; it was shaken by the wings of white Dhartarashtras, as the Mahabharata by the rivalry of Pandavas and Dhartarashtras; and the drinking of poison by Çiva was represented by the drinking of its water by peacocks, as if it were the time of the churning of ocean. It was fair, like a god, with a gaze that never wavers. (248) Like a futile argument, it seemed to have no end; and was a lake most fair and gladdening to the eyes. '"The very sight of it seemed to remove Candrapida's weariness, and as he gazed he thought: '"'Though my pursuit of the horse-faced pair was fruitless, yet now that I see this lake it has gained its reward. My eyes' reward in beholding all that is to be seen has now been won, the furthest point of all fair things seen, the limit of all that gladdens us gazed upon, the boundary line of all that charms us descried, the perfection of all that causes joy made manifest, and the vanishing-point of all worthy of sight beheld. (249) By creating this lake water, sweet as nectar, the Creator has made his own labour of creation superfluous. For this, too, like the nectar that gladdens all the senses, produces joy to the eye by its purity, offers the pleasure of touch by its coolness, gladdens the sense of smell by the fragrance of its lotuses, pleases the ear with the ceaseless murmur of its hamsas, and delights the taste with its sweetness. Truly it is from eagerness to behold this that Çiva leaves not his infatuation for dwelling on Kailasa. Surely Krishna no longer follows his own natural desire as to a watery couch, for he sleeps on the ocean, with its water bitter with salt, and leaves this water sweet as nectar! Nor is this, in sooth, the primæval lake; for the earth, when fearing the blows of the tusks of the boar of destruction, entered the ocean, all the waters of which were designed but to be a draught for Agastya; whereas, if it had plunged into this mighty lake, deep as many deep hells, it could not have been reached, I say not by one, but not even by a thousand boars. (250) Verily it is from this lake that the clouds of doom at the seasons of final destruction draw little by little their water when they overwhelm the interstices of the universe, and darken all the quarters with their destroying storm. And methinks that the world, Brahma's egg, which in the beginning of creation was made of water, was massed together and placed here under the guise of a lake.' So thinking, he reached the south bank, dismounted and took off Indrayudha's harness; (251) and the latter rolled on the ground, arose, ate some mouthfuls of grass, and then the prince took him down to the lake, and let him drink and bathe at will. After that, the prince took off his bridle, bound two of his feet by a golden chain to the lower bough of a tree hard by, and, cutting off with his dagger some durva grass from the bank of the lake, threw it before the horse, and went back himself to the water. He washed his hands, and feasted, like the cataka, on water; like the cakravaka, he tasted pieces of lotus-fibre; like the moon with its beams, he touched the moon-lotuses with his finger-tips; like a snake, he welcomed the breeze of the waves; [251] like one wounded with Love's arrows, he placed a covering of lotus-leaves on his breast; like a mountain elephant, when the tip of his trunk is wet with spray, he adorned his hands with spray-washed lotuses. Then with dewy lotus-leaves, with freshly-broken fibres, he made a couch on a rock embowered in creepers, and rolling up his cloak for a pillow, lay down to sleep. After a short rest, he heard on the north bank of the lake a sweet sound of unearthly music, borne on the ear, and blent with the chords of the vina. (252) Indrayudha heard it first, and letting fall the grass he was eating, with ears fixed and neck arched, turned towards the voice. The prince, as he heard it, rose from his lotus-couch in curiosity to see whence this song could arise in a place deserted by men, and cast his glance towards the region; but, from the great distance, he was unable, though he strained his eyes to the utmost, to discern anything, although he ceaselessly heard the sound. Desiring in his eagerness to know its source, he determined to depart, and saddling and mounting Indrayudha, he set forth by the western forest path, making the song his goal; the deer, albeit unasked, were his guides, as they rushed on in front, delighting in the music. [252] (253-256 condensed) '"Welcomed by the breezes of Kailasa, he went towards that spot, which was surrounded by trees on all sides, and at the foot of the slope of Kailasa, on the left bank of the lake, called Candraprabha, which whitened the whole region with a splendour as of moonlight, he beheld an empty temple of Çiva. (257) '"As he entered the temple he was whitened by the falling on him of ketaki pollen, tossed by the wind, as if for the sake of seeing Çiva he had been forcibly made to perform a vow of putting on ashes, or as if he were robed in the pure merits of entering the temple; and, in a crystal shrine resting on four pillars, he beheld Çiva, the four-faced, teacher of the world, the god whose feet are honoured by the universe, with his emblem, the linga, made of pure pearl. Homage had been paid to the deity by shining lotuses of the heavenly Ganges, that might be mistaken for crests of pearls, freshly-plucked and wet, with drops falling from the ends of their leaves, like fragments of the moon's disc split and set upright, or like parts of Çiva's own smile, or scraps of Çesha's hood, or brothers of Krishna's conch, or the heart of the Milky Ocean. (258) '"But, seated in a posture of meditation, to the right of the god, facing him, Candrapida beheld a maiden vowed to the service of Çiva, who turned the region with its mountains and woods to ivory by the brightness of her beauty. For its lustre shone far, spreading through space, white as the tide of the Milky Ocean, overwhelming all things at the day of doom, or like a store of penance gathered in long years and flowing out, streaming forth massed together like Ganges between the trees, giving a fresh whiteness to Kailasa, and purifying the gazer's soul, though it but entered his eye. The exceeding whiteness of her form concealed her limbs as though she had entered a crystal shrine, or had plunged into a sea of milk, or were hidden in spotless silk, or were caught on the surface of a mirror, or were veiled in autumn clouds. She seemed to be fashioned from the quintessence of whiteness, without the bevy of helps for the creation of the body that consist of matter formed of the five gross elements. (259) She was like sacrifice impersonate, come to worship Çiva, in fear of being seized by the unworthy; or Rati, undertaking a rite of propitiation to conciliate him, for the sake of Kama's body; or Lakshmi, goddess of the Milky Ocean, longing for a digit of Çiva's moon, her familiar friend of yore when they dwelt together in the deep; or the embodied moon seeking Çiva's protection from Rahu; or the beauty of Airavata, [253] come to fulfil Çiva's wish to wear an elephant's skin; or the brightness of the smile on the right face of Çiva become manifest and taking a separate abode; or the white ash with which Çiva besprinkles himself, in bodily shape; or moonlight made manifest to dispel the darkness of Çiva's neck; or the embodied purity of Gauri's mind; or the impersonate chastity of Kartikeya; or the brightness of Çiva's bull, dwelling apart from his body; (260) or the wealth of flowers on the temple trees come of themselves to worship Çiva; or the fulness of Brahma's penance come down to earth; or the glory of the Prajapatis of the Golden Age, resting after the fatigue of wandering through the seven worlds; or the Three Vedas, dwelling in the woods in grief at the overthrow of righteousness in the Kali Age; or the germ of a future Golden Age, in the form of a maiden; or the fulness of a muni's contemplation, in human shape; or a troop of heavenly elephants, falling into confusion on reaching the heavenly Ganges; or the beauty of Kailasa, fallen in dread of being uprooted by Ravana; or the Lakshmi of the Çvetadvipa [254] come to behold another continent; or the grace of an opening kaça-blossom looking for the autumn; or the brightness of Çesha's body leaving hell and come to earth; or the brilliance of Balarama, which had left him in weariness of his intoxication; or a succession of bright fortnights massed together. '"She seemed from her whiteness to have taken a share from all the hamsas; (261) or to have come from the heart of righteousness; or to have been fashioned from a shell; or drawn from a pearl; or formed from lotus-fibres; or made of flakes of ivory; or purified by brushes of moonbeams; or inlaid with lime; or whitened with foam-balls of ambrosia; or laved in streams of quicksilver; or rubbed with melted silver; or dug out from the moon's orb; or decked with the hues of kutaja, jasmine, and sinduvara flowers. She seemed, in truth, to be the very furthest bound of whiteness. Her head was bright with matted locks hanging on her shoulders, made, as it were, of the brightness of morning rays taken from the sun on the Eastern Mountain, tawny like the quivering splendour of flashing lightning, and, being wet from recent bathing, marked with the dust of Çiva's feet clasped in her devotion; she bore Çiva's feet marked with his name in jewels on her head, fastened with a band of hair; (262) and her brow had a sectarial mark of ashes pure as the dust of stars ground by the heels of the sun's horses. (266) She was a goddess, and her age could not be known by earthly reckoning, but she resembled a maiden of eighteen summers. '"Having beheld her, Candrapida dismounted, tied his horse to a bough, and then, reverently bowing before the blessed Çiva, gazed again on that heavenly maiden with a steady unswerving glance. And as her beauty, grace, and serenity stirred his wonder, the thought arose in him: 'How in this world each matter in its turn becomes of no value! For when I was pursuing the pair of Kinnaras wantonly and vainly I beheld this most beautiful place, inaccessible to men, and haunted by the immortals. (267) Then in my search for water I saw this delightful lake sought by the Siddhas. While I rested on its bank I heard a divine song; and as I followed the sound, this divine maiden, too fair for mortal sight, met my eyes. For I cannot doubt her divinity. Her very beauty proclaims her a goddess. And whence in the world of men could there arise such harmonies of heavenly minstrelsy? If, therefore, she vanishes not from my sight, nor mounts the summit of Kailasa, nor flies to the sky, I will draw near and ask her, "Who art thou, and what is thy name, and why hast thou in the dawn of life undertaken this vow?" This is all full of wonder.' With this resolve he approached another pillar of the crystal shrine, and sat there, awaiting the end of the song. '"Then when she had stilled her lute, like a moon-lotus bed when the pleasant hum of the bees is silenced, (268) the maiden rose, made a sunwise turn and an obeisance to Çiva, and then turning round, with a glance by nature clear, and by the power of penance confident, she, as it were, gave courage to Candrapida, as if thereby she were sprinkling him with merits, laving him with holy water, purifying him with penance, freeing him from stain, giving him his heart's desire, and leading him to purity. '"'Hail to my guest!' said she. 'How has my lord reached this place? Rise, draw near, and receive a guest's due welcome.' So she spake; and he, deeming himself honoured even by her deigning to speak with him, reverently arose and bowed before her. 'As thou biddest, lady,' he replied, and showed his courtesy by following in her steps like a pupil. And on the way he thought: 'Lo, even when she beheld me she did not vanish! Truly a hope of asking her questions has taken hold of my heart. And when I see the courteous welcome, rich in kindness, of this maiden, fair though she be with a beauty rare in ascetics, I surely trust that at my petition she will tell me all her story.' (269) '"Having gone about a hundred paces, he beheld a cave, with its entrance veiled by dense tamalas, showing even by day a night of their own; its edge was vocal with the glad bees' deep murmur on the bowers of creepers with their opening blossoms; it was bedewed with torrents that in their sheer descent fell in foam, dashing against the white rock, and cleft by the axe-like points of the jagged cliff, with a shrill crash as the cold spray rose up and broke; it was like a mass of waving cowries hanging from a door, from the cascades streaming down on either side, white as Çiva's smile, or as pearly frost. Within was a circle of jewelled pitchers; on one side hung a veil worn in sacred meditation; a clean pair of shoes made of cocoanut matting hung on a peg; one corner held a bark bed gray with dust scattered by the ashes the maiden wore; the place of honour was filled by a bowl of shell carved with a chisel, like the orb of the moon; and close by there stood a gourd of ashes. '"On the rock at the entrance Candrapida took his seat, and when the maiden, having laid her lute on the pillow of the bark bed, took in a leafy cup some water from the cascade to offer to her guest, and he said as she approached (270): 'Enough of these thy great toils. Cease this excess of grace. Be persuaded, lady. Let this too great honour be abandoned. The very sight of thee, like the aghamarshana hymn, stills all evil and sufficeth for purification. Deign to take thy seat!' Yet being urged by her, he reverently, with head bent low, accepted all the homage she gave to her guest. When her cares for her guest were over, she sat down on another rock, and after a short silence he told, at her request, the whole story of his coming in pursuit of the pair of Kinnaras, beginning with his expedition of conquest. The maiden then rose, and, taking a begging bowl, wandered among the trees round the temple; and ere long her bowl was filled with fruits that had fallen of their own accord. As she invited Candrapida to the enjoyment of them, the thought arose in his heart: 'Of a truth, there is nought beyond the power of penance. For it is a great marvel how the lords of the forest, albeit devoid of sense, yet, like beings endowed with sense, gain honour for themselves by casting down their fruits for this maiden. A wondrous sight is this, and one never seen before.' '"So, marvelling yet more, he brought Indrayudha to that spot, unsaddled him, and tied him up hard by. (271) Then, having bathed in the torrent, he partook of the fruits, sweet as ambrosia, and drank the cool water of the cascade, and having rinsed his mouth, he waited apart while the maiden enjoyed her repast of water, roots, and fruit. '"When her meal was ended and she had said her evening prayer, and taken her seat fearlessly on the rock, the Prince quietly approached her, and sitting down near her, paused awhile and then respectfully said: '"'Lady, the folly that besets mankind impels me even against my will to question thee, for I am bewildered by a curiosity that has taken courage from thy kindness. For even the slightest grace of a lord emboldens a weak nature: even a short time spent together creates intimacy. Even a slight acceptance of homage produces affection. Therefore, if it weary thee not, I pray thee to honour me with thy story. For from my first sight of thee a great eagerness has possessed me as to this matter. Is the race honoured by thy birth, lady, that of the Maruts, or Rishis, or Gandharvas, or Guhyakas, or Apsarases? And wherefore in thy fresh youth, tender as a flower, has this vow been taken? (272) For how far apart would seem thy youth, thy beauty, and thine exceeding grace, from this thy peace from all thoughts of earth! This is marvellous in mine eyes! And wherefore hast thou left the heavenly hermitages that gods may win, and that hold all things needful for the highest saints, to dwell alone in this deserted wood? And whereby hath thy body, though formed of the five gross elements, put on this pure whiteness? Never have I heard or seen aught such as this. I pray thee dispel my curiosity, and tell me all I ask.' '"For a little time she pondered his request in silence, and then she began to weep noiselessly, and her eyes were blinded by tears which fell in large drops, carrying with them the purity of her heart, showering down the innocence of her senses, distilling the essence of asceticism, dropping in a liquid form the brightness of her eyes, most pure, falling on her white cheeks like a broken string of pearls, unceasing, splashing on her bosom covered by the bark robe. (273) '"And as he beheld her weeping Candrapida reflected: 'How hardly can misfortune be warded off, if it takes for its own a beauty like this, which one might have deemed beyond its might! Of a truth there is none whom the sorrows of life in the body leave untouched. Strong indeed is the working of the opposed powers of pleasure and pain. [255] These her tears have created in me a further curiosity, even greater than before. It is no slight grief that can take its abode in a form like hers. For it is not a feeble blow that causes the earth to tremble.' '"While his curiosity was thus increased he felt himself guilty of recalling her grief, and rising, brought in his folded hand from the torrent some water to bathe her face. But she, though the torrent of her tears was in nowise checked by his gentleness, yet bathed her reddened eyes, and drying her face with the edge of her bark robe, slowly said with a long and bitter sigh: (274) '"'Wherefore, Prince, wilt thou hear the story of my ascetic life, all unfit for thy ears? for cruel has been my heart, hard my destiny, and evil my condition, even from my birth. Still, if thy desire to know be great, hearken. It has come within the range of our hearing, usually directed to auspicious knowledge, that there are in the abode of the gods maidens called Apsarases. Of these there are fourteen families: one sprung from the mind of Brahma, another from the Vedas, another from fire, another from the wind, another from nectar when it was churned, another from water, another from the sun's rays, another from the moon's beams, another from earth, and another from lightning; one was fashioned by Death, and another created by Love; besides, Daksha, father of all, had among his many daughters two, Muni and Arishta, and from their union with the Gandharvas were sprung the other two families. These are, in sum, the fourteen races. But from the Gandharvas and the daughters of Daksha sprang these two families. Here Muni bore a sixteenth son, by name Citraratha, who excelled in virtues Sena and all the rest of his fifteen brothers. For his heroism was famed through the three worlds; his dignity was increased by the name of Friend, bestowed by Indra, whose lotus feet are caressed by the crests of the gods cast down before him; and even in childhood he gained the sovereignty of all the Gandharvas by a right arm tinged with the flashing of his sword. (275) Not far hence, north of the land of Bharata, is his dwelling, Hemakuta, a boundary mountain in the Kimpurusha country. There, protected by his arm, dwell innumerable Gandharvas. By him this pleasant wood, Caitraratha, was made, this great lake Acchoda was dug out, and this image of Çiva was fashioned. But the son of Arishta, in the second Gandharva family, was as a child anointed king by Citraratha, lord of the Gandharvas, and now holds royal rank, and with a countless retinue of Gandharvas dwells likewise on this mountain. Now, from that family of Apsarases which sprang from the moon's nectar was born a maiden, fashioned as though by the grace of all the moon's digits poured in one stream, gladdening the eyes of the universe, moonbeam-fair, in name and nature a second Gauri. [256] (276) Her Hamsa, lord of the second family, wooed, as the Milky Ocean the Ganges; with him she was united, as Rati with Kama, or the lotus-bed with the autumn; and enjoying the great happiness of such a union she became the queen of his zenana. To this noble pair I was born as only daughter, ill-omened, a prey for grief, and a vessel for countless sorrows; my father, however, having no other child, greeted my birth with a great festival, surpassing that for a son, and on the tenth day, with the customary rites he gave me the fitting name of Mahaçveta. In his palace I spent my childhood, passed from lap to lap of the Gandharva dames, like a lute, as I murmured the prattle of babyhood, ignorant as yet of the sorrows of love; but in time fresh youth came to me as the honey-month to the spring, fresh shoots to the honey-month, flowers to the fresh shoots, bees to the flowers, and honey to the bees. '"' [257]And one day in the month of honey I went down with my mother to the Acchoda lake to bathe, when its beauties were spread wide in the spring, and all its lotuses were in flower. (278) '"'I worshipped the pictures of Çiva, attended by Bringiriti, which were carved on the rocks of the bank by Parvati when she came down to bathe, and which had the reverential attendance of ascetics portrayed by the thin footprints left in the dust. "How beautiful!" I cried, "is this bower of creepers, with its clusters of flowers of which the bees' weight has broken the centre and bowed the filaments; this mango is fully in flower, and the honey pours through the holes in the stalks of its buds, which the cuckoo's sharp claws have pierced; how cool this sandal avenue, which the serpents, terrified at the murmur of hosts of wild peacocks, have deserted; how delightful the waving creepers, which betray by their fallen blossoms the swinging of the wood-nymphs upon them; how pleasant the foot of the trees on the bank where the kalahamsas have left the line of their steps imprinted in the pollen of many a flower!" Drawn on thus by the ever-growing charms of the wood, I wandered with my companions. (279) And at a certain spot I smelt the fragrance of a flower strongly borne on the wind, overpowering that of all the rest, though the wood was in full blossom; it drew near, and by its great sweetness seemed to anoint, to delight, and to fill the sense of smell. Bees followed it, seeking to make it their own: it was truly a perfume unknown heretofore, and fit for the gods. I, too, eager to learn whence it came, with eyes turned into buds, and drawn on like a bee by that scent, and attracting to me the kalahamsas of the lake by the jangling of my anklets loudly clashed in the tremulous speed of my curiosity, advanced a few steps and beheld a graceful youthful ascetic coming down to bathe. He was like Spring doing penance in grief for Love made the fuel of Çiva's fire, or the crescent on Çiva's brow performing a vow to win a full orb, or Love restrained in his eagerness to conquer Çiva: by his great splendour he appeared to be girt by a cage of quivering lightning, embosomed in the globe of the summer sun, or encircled in the flames of a furnace: (280) by the brightness of his form, flashing forth ever more and more, yellow as lamplight, he made the grove a tawny gold; his locks were yellow and soft like an amulet dyed in gorocana. The line of ashes on his brow made him like Ganges with the line of a fresh sandbank, as though it were a sandal-mark to win Sarasvati, [258] and played the part of a banner of holiness; his eyebrows were an arch rising high over the abode of men's curses; his eyes were so long that he seemed to wear them as a chaplet; he shared with the deer the beauty of their glance; his nose was long and aquiline; the citron of his lower lip was rosy as with the glow of youth, which was refused an entrance to his heart; with his beardless cheek he was like a fresh lotus, the filaments of which have not yet been tossed by the bees in their sport; he was adorned with a sacrificial thread like the bent string of Love's bow, or a filament from the lotus grove of the pool of penance; in one hand he bore a pitcher like a kesara fruit with its stalk; in the other a crystal rosary, strung as it were with the tears of Rati wailing in grief for Love's death. (281) His loins were girt with a muñja-grass girdle, as though he had assumed a halo, having outvied the sun by his innate splendour; the office of vesture was performed by the bark of the heavenly coral-tree, [259] bright as the pink eyelid of an old partridge, and washed in the waves of the heavenly Ganges; he was the ornament of ascetic life, the youthful grace of holiness, the delight of Sarasvati, the chosen lord of all the sciences, and the meeting-place of all divine tradition. He had, like the summer season, [260] his ashadha [261]; he had, like a winter wood, the brightness of opening millet, and he had like the month of honey, a face adorned with white tilaka. [262] With him there was a youthful ascetic gathering flowers to worship the gods, his equal in age and a friend worthy of himself. (282) '"'Then I saw a wondrous spray of flowers which decked his ear, like the bright smile of woodland Çri joying in the sight of spring, or the grain-offering of the honey-month welcoming the Malaya winds, or the youth of the Lakshmi of flowers, or the cowrie that adorns Love's elephant; it was wooed by the bees; the Pleiads lent it their grace; and its honey was nectar. "Surely," I decided, "this is the fragrance which makes all other flowers scentless," and gazing at the youthful ascetic, the thought arose in my mind: "Ah, how lavish is the Creator who has skill [263] to produce the highest perfection of form, for he has compounded Kama of all miraculous beauty, excelling the universe, and yet has created this ascetic even more fair, surpassing him, like a second love-god, born of enchantment. (283) Methinks that when Brahma [264] made the moon's orb to gladden the world, and the lotuses to be Lakshmi's palace of delight, he was but practising to gain skill for the creation of this ascetic's face; why else should such things be created? Surely it is false that the sun with its ray Sushumna [265] drinks all the digits of the moon as it wanes in the dark fortnight, for their beams are cast down to enter this fair form. How otherwise could there be such grace in one who lives in weary penance, beauty's destroyer?" As I thus thought, Love, beauty's firm adherent, who knows not good from ill, and who is ever at hand to the young, enthralled me, together with my sighs, as the madness of spring takes captive the bee. Then with a right eye gazing steadily, the eyelashes half closed, the iris darkened by the pupil's tremulous sidelong glance, I looked long on him. With this glance I, as it were, drank him in, besought him, told him I was wholly his, offered my heart, tried to enter into him with my whole soul, sought to be absorbed in him, implored his protection to save Love's victim, showed my suppliant state that asked for a place in his heart; (284) and though I asked myself, "What is this shameful feeling that has arisen in me, unseemly and unworthy a noble maiden?" yet knowing this, I could not master myself, but with great difficulty stood firm, gazing at him. For I seemed to be paralyzed, or in a picture, or scattered abroad, or bound, or in a trance, and yet in wondrous wise upheld, as though when my limbs were failing, support was at the same moment given; for I know not how one can be certain in a matter that can neither be told nor taught, and that is not capable of being told, for it is only learnt from within. Can it be ascertained as presented by his beauty, or by my own mind, or by love, or by youth or affection, or by any other causes? I cannot tell. Lifted up and dragged towards him by my senses, led forward by my heart, urged from behind by Love, I yet by a strong effort restrained my impulse. (285) Straightway a storm of sighs went forth unceasingly, prompted by Love as he strove to find a place within me; and my bosom heaved as longing to speak earnestly to my heart, and then I thought to myself: "What an unworthy action is this of vile Kama, who surrenders me to this cold ascetic free from all thoughts of love! Truly, the heart of woman is foolish exceedingly, since it cannot weigh the fitness of that which it loves. For what has this bright home of glory and penance to do with the stirrings of love that meaner men welcome? Surely in his heart he scorns me for being thus deceived by Kama! Strange it is that I who know this cannot restrain my feeling! (286) Other maidens, indeed, laying shame aside, have of their own accord gone to their lords; others have been maddened by that reckless love-god; but not as I am here alone! How in that one moment has my heart been thrown into turmoil by the mere sight of his form, and passed from my control! for time for knowledge and good qualities always make Love invincible. It is best for me to leave this place while I yet have my senses, and while he does not clearly see this my hateful folly of love. Perchance if he sees in me the effects of a love he cannot approve, he will in wrath make me feel his curse. For ascetics are ever prone to wrath." Thus having resolved, I was eager to depart, but, remembering that holy men should be reverenced by all, I made an obeisance to him with eyes turned to his face, eyelashes motionless, not glancing downwards, my cheek uncaressed by the flowers dancing in my ears, my garland tossing on my waving hair, and my jewelled earrings swinging on my shoulders. '"'As I thus bent, the irresistible command of love, the inspiration of the spring, the charm of the place, the frowardness of youth, the unsteadiness of the senses, (287) the impatient longing for earthly goods, the fickleness of the mind, the destiny that rules events--in a word, my own cruel fate, and the fact that all my trouble was caused by him, were the means by which Love destroyed his firmness by the sight of my feeling, and made him waver towards me like a flame in the wind. He too was visibly thrilled, as if to welcome the newly-entering Love; his sighs went before him to show the way to his mind which was hastening towards me; the rosary in his hand trembled and shook, fearing the breaking of his vow; drops rose on his cheek, like a second garland hanging from his ear; his eyes, as his pupils dilated and his glance widened in the joy of beholding me, turned the spot to a very lotus-grove, so that the ten regions were filled by the long rays coming forth like masses of open lotuses that had of their own accord left the Acchoda lake and were rising to the sky. '"'By the manifest change in him my love was redoubled, and I fell that moment into a state I cannot describe, all unworthy of my caste. "Surely," I reflected, "Kama himself teaches this play of the eye, though generally after a long happy love, else whence comes this ascetic's gaze? (288) For his mind is unversed in the mingled feelings of earthly joys, and yet his eyes, though they have never learnt the art, pour forth the stream of love's sweetness, rain nectar, are half closed by joy, are slow with distress, heavy with sleep, roaming with pupils tremulous and languid with the weight of gladness, and yet bright with the play of his eyebrows. Whence comes this exceeding skill that tells the heart's longing wordlessly by a glance alone?" '"'Impelled by these thoughts I advanced, and bowing to the second young ascetic, his companion, I asked: "What is the name of his Reverence? Of what ascetic is he the son? From what tree is this garland woven? For its scent, hitherto unknown, and of rare sweetness, kindles great curiosity in me." '"'With a slight smile, he replied: "Maiden, what needs this question? But I will enlighten thy curiosity. Listen! '"'"There dwells in the world of gods a great sage, Çvetaketu; his noble character is famed through the universe; his feet are honoured by bands of siddhas, gods, and demons; (289) his beauty, exceeding that of Nalakubara, [266] is dear to the three worlds, and gladdens the hearts of goddesses. Once upon a time, when seeking lotuses for the worship of the gods, he went down to the Heavenly Ganges, which lay white as Çiva's smile, while its water was studded as with peacocks' eyes by the ichor of Airavata. Straightway Lakshmi, enthroned on a thousand-petalled white lotus close by, beheld him coming down among the flowers, and looking on him, she drank in his beauty with eyes half closed by love, and quivering with weight of joyous tears, and with her slender fingers laid on her softly-opening lips; and her heart was disturbed by Love; by her glance alone she won his affection. A son was born, and taking him in her arms with the words, 'Take him, for he is thine,' she gave him to Çvetaketu, who performed all the rites of a son's birth, and called him Pundarika, because he was born in a pundarika lotus. Moreover, after initiation, he led him through the whole circle of the arts. (290) This is Pundarika whom you see. And this spray comes from the parijata tree, [267] which rose when the Milky Ocean was churned by gods and demons. How it gained a place in his ear contrary to his vow, I will now tell. This being the fourteenth day of the month, he started with me from heaven to worship Çiva, who had gone to Kailasa. On the way, near the Nandana Wood, a nymph, drunk with the juice of flowers, wearing fresh mango shoots in her ear, veiled completely by garlands falling to the knees, girt with kesara flowers, and resting on the fair hand lent her by the Lakshmi of spring, took this spray of parijata, and bending low, thus addressed Pundarika: 'Sir, let, I pray, this thy form, that gladdens the eyes of the universe, have this spray as its fitting adornment; let it be placed on the tip of thy ear, for it has but the playfulness that belongs to a garland; let the birth of the parijata now reap its full blessing!' At her words, his eyes were cast down in modesty at the praise he so well deserved, and he turned to depart without regarding her; but as I saw her following us, I said, 'What is the harm, friend. Let her courteous gift be accepted!' and so by force, against his will, the spray adorns his ear. Now all has been told: who he is, whose son, and what this flower is, and how it has been raised to his ear." (291) When he had thus spoken, Pundarika said to me with a slight smile: "Ah, curious maiden, why didst thou take the trouble to ask this? If the flower, with its sweet scent, please thee, do thou accept it," and advancing, he took it from his own ear and placed it in mine, as though, with the soft murmur of the bees on it, it were a prayer for love. At once, in my eagerness to touch his hand, a thrill arose in me, like a second parijata flower, where the garland lay; while he, in the pleasure of touching my cheek, did not see that from his tremulous fingers he had dropped his rosary at the same time as his timidity; but before it reached the ground I seized it, and playfully placed it on my neck, where it wore the grace of a necklace unlike all others, while I learnt the joy of having my neck clasped, as it were, by his arm. '"'As our hearts were thus occupied with each other, my umbrella-bearer addressed me: "Princess, the Queen has bathed. It is nearly time to go home. Do thou, therefore, also bathe." At her words, like a newly-caught elephant, rebellious at the first touch of the new hook, I was unwillingly dragged away, and as I went down to bathe, I could hardly withdraw my eyes, for they seemed to be drowned in the ambrosial beauty of his face, or caught in the thicket of my thrilling cheek, or pinned down by Love's shafts, or sewn fast by the cords [268] of his charms. (292) '"'Meanwhile, the second young ascetic, seeing that he was losing his self-control, gently upbraided him: "Dear Pundarika, this is unworthy of thee. This is the way trodden by common men. For the good are rich in self-control. Why dost thou, like a man of low caste, fail to restrain the turmoil of thy soul? Whence comes this hitherto unknown assault of the senses, which so transforms thee? Where is thine old firmness? Where thy conquest of the senses? Where thy self-control? Where thy calm of mind, thine inherited holiness, thy carelessness of earthly things? Where the teaching of thy guru, thy learning of the Vedas, thy resolves of asceticism, thy hatred of pleasure, thine aversion to vain delights, thy passion for penance, thy distaste for enjoyments, thy rule over the impulses of youth? Verily all knowledge is fruitless, study of holy books is useless, initiation has lost its meaning, pondering the teaching of gurus avails not, proficiency is worthless, learning leads to nought, since even men like thee are stained by the touch of passion, and overcome by folly. (293) Thou dost not even see that thy rosary has fallen from thy hand, and has been carried away. Alas! how good sense fails in men thus struck down. Hold back this heart of thine, for this worthless girl is seeking to carry it away." '"'To these words he replied, with some shame: "Dear Kapiñjala, why dost thou thus misunderstand me? I am not one to endure this reckless girl's offence in taking my rosary!" and with his moonlike face beautiful in its feigned wrath, and adorned the more by the dread frown he tried to assume, while his lip trembled with longing to kiss me, he said to me, "Playful maiden, thou shalt not move a step from this place without giving back my rosary." Thereupon I loosed from my neck a single row of pearls as the flower-offering that begins a dance in Kama's honour, and placed it in his outstretched hand, while his eyes were fixed on my face, and his mind was far away. I started to bathe, but how I started I know not, for my mother and my companions could hardly lead me away by force, like a river driven backwards, and I went home thinking only of him. (294) '"'And entering the maidens' dwelling, I began straightway to ask myself in my grief at his loss: "Am I really back, or still there? Am I alone, or with my maidens? Am I silent, or beginning to speak? Am I awake or asleep? Do I weep or hold back my tears? Is this joy or sorrow, longing or despair, misfortune or gladness, day or night? Are these things pleasures or pains?" All this I understood not. In my ignorance of Love's course, I knew not whither to go, what to do, hear, see, or speak, whom to tell, nor what remedy to seek. Entering the maidens' palace, I dismissed my friends at the door, and shut out my attendants, and then, putting aside all my occupations, I stood alone with my face against the jewelled window. I gazed at the region which, in its possession of him, was richly decked, endowed with great treasure, overflowed by the ocean of nectar, adorned with the rising of the full moon, and most fair to behold, I longed to ask his doings even of the breeze wafted from thence, or of the scent of the woodland flowers, or of the song of the birds. (295) I envied even the toils of penance for his devotion to them. For his sake, in the blind adherence of love, I took a vow of silence. I attributed grace to the ascetic garb, because he accepted it, beauty to youth because he owned it, charm to the parijata flower because it touched his ear, delight to heaven because he dwelt there, and invincible power to love because he was so fair. Though far away, I turned towards him as the lotus-bed to the sun, the tide to the moon, or the peacock to the cloud. I bore on my neck his rosary, like a charm against the loss of the life stricken by his absence. I stood motionless, though a thrill made the down on my cheek like a kadamba flower ear-ring, as it rose from the joy of being touched by his hand, and from the parijata spray in my ear, which spoke sweetly to me of him. '"'Now my betel-bearer, Taralika, had been with me to bathe; she came back after me rather late, and softly addressed me in my sadness: "Princess, one of those godlike ascetics we saw on the bank of Lake Acchoda--(296) he by whom this spray of the heavenly tree was placed in thy ear--as I was following thee, eluded the glance of his other self, and approaching me with soft steps between the branches of a flowering creeper, asked me concerning thee, saying, 'Damsel, who is this maiden? Whose daughter is she? What is her name? And whither goes she?' I replied: 'She is sprung from Gauri, an Apsaras of the moon race, and her father Hamsa is king of all the Gandharvas; the nails of his feet are burnished by the tips of the jewelled aigrettes on the turbans of all the Gandharvas; his tree-like arms are marked by the cosmetics on the cheeks of his Gandharva wives, and the lotus-hand of Lakshmi forms his footstool. The princess is named Mahaçveta, and she has set out now for the hill of Hemakuta, the abode of the Gandharvas.' '"'"When this tale had been told by me, he thought silently for a moment, and then looking long at me with a steady gaze, as if gently entreating me, he said: 'Damsel, thy form, young as thou art, is of fair promise, and augurs truth and steadfastness. Grant me, therefore, one request.' Courteously raising my hands, I reverently replied: (297) 'Wherefore say this? Who am I? When great-souled men such as thou, meet for the honour of the whole universe, deign to cast even their sin-removing glance on one like me, their act wins merit--much more if they give a command. Say, therefore, freely what is to be done. Let me be honoured by thy bidding.' '"'"Thus addressed, he saluted me with a kindly glance, as a friend, a helper, or a giver of life; and taking a shoot from a tamala-tree hard by, he crushed it on the stones of the bank, broke off a piece from his upper bark garment as a tablet, and with the tamala-juice, sweet as the ichor of a gandha elephant, wrote with the nail of the little finger of his lotus-hand, and placed it in my hand, saying, 'Let this letter be secretly given by thee to that maiden when alone.'" With these words she drew it from the betel-box and showed it to me. '"'As I took from her hand that bark letter, I was filled with this talk about him, which, though but a sound, produced the joy of contact, and though for the ears alone, had its pervading presence in all my limbs manifested by a thrill, as if it were a spell to invoke Love; and in his letter I beheld these lines: [269] A hamsa on the Manas lake, lured by a creeper's treacherous shine, My heart is led a weary chase, lured by that pearly wreath of thine. [270] (298) '"'By the reading of this, an even greater change for the worse was wrought in my lovesick mind, as in one who has lost his way, by also losing his bearings; as in a blind man, by a night of the dark fortnight; as in a dumb man, by cutting out the tongue; as in an ignorant man, by a conjuror's waving fan; as in a confused talker, by the delirium of fever; as in one poisoned, by the fatal sleep; as in a wicked man, by atheistic philosophy; as in one distraught, by strong drink; or as in one possessed, by the action of the possessing demon; so that in the turmoil it created in me, I was tossed like a river in flood. I honoured Taralika for having seen him again, as one who had acquired great merit, or who had tasted the joys of heaven, or had been visited by a god, or had her highest boon granted, or had drunk nectar, or had been anointed queen of the three worlds. I spoke to her reverently, as if, though always by me, she were a rare visitant, and though my familiar friend, she were hitherto unknown. I looked on her, though behind me, as above the world; I tenderly caressed the curls on her cheek, and entirely set at nought the condition of mistress and maid, again and again asking, (299) "How was he seen by thee? What did he say to thee? How long wert thou there? How far did he follow us?" And shutting out all my attendants, I spent the whole day with her in the palace, listening to that tale. The sun's orb hanging in the sky became crimson, sharing my heart's glow; the Lakshmi of sunlight longing for the sight of the flushed sun, and preparing her lotus-couch, turned pale as though faint with love; the sunbeams, rosy as they fell on waters dyed with red chalk, rose from the lotus-beds clustering like herds of woodland elephants; the day, with an echo of the joyous neighing of the steeds of the sun's chariot longing to rest after their descent of the sky, entered the caves of Mount Meru; the lotus-beds, as the bees entered the folded leaves of the red lilies, seemed to close their eyes as though their hearts were darkened by a swoon at the sun's departure; the pairs of cakravakas, each taking the other's heart, safely hidden in the hollow lotus-stalks whereof they had eaten together, were now parted; and my umbrella-bearer approaching me, said as follows: (300) "Princess, one of those youthful hermits is at the door, and says he has come to beg for a rosary." At the hermit's name, though motionless, I seemed to approach the door, and suspecting the reason of his coming, I summoned another chamberlain, whom I sent, saying, "Go and admit him." A moment later I beheld the young ascetic Kapiñjala, who is to Pundarika as youth to beauty, love to youth, spring to love, southern breezes to spring, and who is indeed a friend worthy of him; he followed the hoary chamberlain as sunlight after moonlight. As he drew near his appearance betrayed to me trouble, sadness, distraction, entreaty, and a yearning unfulfilled. With a reverence I rose and respectfully brought him a seat; and when he was reluctantly forced to accept it, I washed his feet and dried them on the silken edge of my upper robe; and then sat by him on the bare ground. For a moment he waited, as if eager to speak, when he cast his eyes on Taralika close by. Knowing his desire at a glance, I said, "Sir, she is one with me. (301) Speak fearlessly." At my words Kapiñjala replied: "Princess, what can I say? for through shame my voice does not reach the sphere of utterance. How far is the passionless ascetic who lives on roots in the woods from the illusion of passion that finds its home in restless souls, and is stained with longing for earthly pleasures, and filled with the manifold sports of the Love God. See how unseemly all this is! What has fate begun? God easily turns us into a laughing-stock! I know not if this be fitting with bark garments, or seemly for matted locks, or meet for penance, or consonant with the teaching of holiness! Such a mockery was never known! I needs must tell you the story. No other course is visible; no other remedy is perceived; no other refuge is at hand; no other way is before me. If it remains untold, even greater trouble will arise. A friend's life must be saved even at the loss of our own; so I will tell the tale: '"'"It was in thy presence that I sternly rebuked Pundarika, and after that speech I left him in anger and went to another place, leaving my task of gathering flowers. After thy departure, I remained apart a short time, (302) and then, becoming anxious as to what he was doing, I turned back and examined the spot from behind a tree. As I did not see him there, the thought arose within me, 'His mind was enslaved by love, and perchance he followed her; and now that she is gone, he has regained his senses, and is ashamed to come within my sight; or he has gone from me in wrath, or departed hence to another place in search of me.' Thus thinking, I waited some time, but, troubled by an absence I had never since my birth suffered for a moment, I again thought, 'It may be that, in shame at his failure in firmness, he will come to some harm; for shame makes everything possible; he must not, then, be left alone.' With this resolve, I earnestly made search for him. But as I could not see him, though I sought on all sides, made anxious by love for my friend, I pictured this or that misfortune, and wandered long, examining glades of trees, creeper bowers among the sandal avenues, and the banks of lakes, carefully glancing on every side. (303) At length I beheld him in a thicket of creepers near a lake, a very birthplace for spring, most fair, and in its close growth appearing to be made wholly of flowers, of bees, of cuckoos, and of peacocks. From his entire absence of employment, he was as one painted, or engraved, or paralyzed, or dead, or asleep, or in a trance of meditation; he was motionless, yet wandering from his right course; alone, yet possessed by Love; all aglow, yet raising a pallid face; absent-minded, yet giving his love a place within him; silent, and yet telling a tale of Love's great woe; seated on a stone, yet standing in face of death. He was tormented by Kama, who yet, in fear of many a curse, remained unseen. By his great stillness he appeared to be deserted by the senses which had entered into him to behold the love that dwelt in his heart, and had fainted in fear at its unbearable heat, or had left him in wrath at the tossing of his mind. From eyes steadily closed, and dimmed within by the smoke of Love's keen fire, he ceaselessly poured forth a storm of tears trickling down through his eyelashes. (304) The filaments of the creepers near trembled in the sighs which rushed out, bearing the redness of his lips like the upstarting ruddy flame of Kama burning his heart. As his hand rested on his left cheek, his brow, from the clear rays of his nails rising upwards, seemed to have a fresh mark of sandal very pure; from the late removal of his earring, the parijata flower, his ear was endowed with a tamala shoot or a blue lotus by the bees that murmured a charm to bewitch love, under the guise of their soft hum as they crept up in longing for what remained of that fragrance. Under the guise of his hair rising in a passionate thrill he seemed to bear on his limbs a mass of broken points of the flowery darts of Love's arrows discharged into his pores. With his right hand he bore on his breast a string of pearls that, by being interlaced with the flashing rays of his nails, seemed bristling in joy at the pleasure of touching his palm, and that was, as it were, a banner of recklessness. He was pelted by the trees with pollen, like a powder to subdue Love; he was caressed by açoka shoots tossed by the wind, and transferring to him their rosy glow; he was besprinkled by woodland Lakshmi with honey-dew from clusters of fresh flowers, like waters to crown Love; he was struck by Love with campak buds, which, as their fragrance was drunk in by bees, were like fiery barbs all smoking; (305) he was rebuked by the south wind, as if by the hum of the bees maddened by the many scents of the wood; he was bewildered by the honey-month, as by cries of 'All hail!' to Spring raised by the cuckoos in their melodious ecstasy. Like the risen moon, he was robed in paleness; like the stream of Ganges in summer, he had dwindled to meagreness; like a sandal-tree with a fire at its heart, he was fading away. He seemed to have entered on another birth, and was as another man, strange and unfamiliar; he was changed into another shape. As one entered by an evil spirit, ruled by a great demon, possessed by a strong devil, drunk, deluded, blind, deaf, dumb, all merged in joy and love, he had reached the climax of the mind's slavery when possessed by Love, and his old self could no longer be known. '"'"As with a steady glance I long examined his sad state, I became despondent, and thought in my trembling heart: 'This is of a truth that Love whose force none can resist; for by him Pundarika has been in a moment brought to a state for which there is no cure. For how else could such a storehouse of learning become straightway unavailing? (306) It is, alas! a miracle in him who from childhood has been firm of nature and unswerving in conduct, and whose life was the envy of myself and the other young ascetics. Here, like a mean man, despising knowledge, contemning the power of penance, he has rooted up his deep steadfastness, and is paralyzed by Love. A youth which has never swerved is indeed rare!' I went forward, and sitting down by him on the same stone, with my hand resting on his shoulder, I asked him, though his eyes were still closed: 'Dear Pundarika, tell me what this means.' Then with great difficulty and effort he opened his eyes, which seemed fastened together by their long closing, and which were red from incessant weeping and overflowing with tears as if shaken and in pain, while their colour was that of a red lotus-bed veiled in white silk. He looked at me long with a very languid glance, and then, deeply sighing, in accents broken by shame, he slowly and with pain murmured: 'Dear Kapiñjala, why ask me what thou knowest?' Hearing this, and thinking that Pundarika was suffering in this way a cureless ill, but that still, as far as possible, a friend who is entering a wrong course should be held back to the utmost by those who love him, I replied: 'Dear Pundarika, I know it well. (307) I will only ask this question: Is this course you have begun taught by your gurus, or read in the holy books? or is this a way of winning holiness, or a fresh form of penance, or a path to heaven, or a mystic vow, or a means of salvation, or any other kind of discipline? Is this fitting for thee even to imagine, much less to see or tell? Like a fool, thou seest not that thou art made a laughing-stock by that miscreant Love. For it is the fool who is tormented by Love. For what is thy hope of happiness in such things as are honoured by the base, but blamed by the good? He truly waters a poison tree under the idea of duty, or embraces the sword plant for a lotus-wreath, or lays hold on a black snake, taking it for a line of smoke of black aloes, or touches a burning coal for a jewel, or tries to pull out the club-like tusk of a wild elephant, thinking it a lotus-fibre; he is a fool who places happiness in the pleasures of sense which end in sorrow. And thou, though knowing the real nature of the senses, why dost thou carry thy knowledge as the firefly his light, [271] only to be concealed, in that thou restrainest not thy senses when they start out of their course like streams turbid [272] in their passionate onrush? Nor dost thou curb thy tossing mind. (308) Who, forsooth, is this Love-god? Relying on thy firmness, do thou revile this miscreant.' '"'"As I thus spoke he wiped with his hand his eyes streaming with tears poured through his eyelashes, and while he yet leant on me, replied, rebuking my speech: 'Friend, what need of many words? Thou at least art untouched! Thou hast not fallen within the range of Love's shafts, cruel with the poison of snakes! It is easy to teach another! and when that other has his senses and his mind, and sees, hears, and knows what he has heard, and can discern good and evil, he is then fit for advice. But all this is far from me; all talk of stability, judgment, firmness, reflection, has come to an end. How do I even breathe but by strong effort? The time for advice is long past. The opportunity for firmness has been let slip; the hour for reflection is gone; the season for stability and judgment has passed away. Who but thee could give advice at this time, or could attempt to restrain my wandering? To whom but thee should I listen? or who else in the world is a friend like thee? What ails me that I cannot restrain myself? Thou sawest in a moment my wretched plight. The time, then, for advice is now past. (309) While I breathe, I long for some cure for the fever of love, violent as the rays of twelve suns [273] at the end of the world. My limbs are baked, my heart is seething, my eyes are burning, and my body on fire. Do, therefore, what the time demands.' He then became silent, and after this speech I tried again and again to rouse him; but as he did not listen even when tenderly and affectionately exhorted in the words of the pure teaching of the çastras full of cases like his own, together with the legendary histories, I thought, 'He is gone too far; he cannot be turned back. Advice is now useless, so I will make an effort just to preserve his life.' With this resolve I rose and went, and tore up some juicy lotus-fibres from the lake; then, taking some lotus-petals marked by water, I plucked lotuses of all kinds, sweet with the fragrance of the aromatic pollen within, and prepared a couch on that same rock in the bower. And as he rested there at ease (310), I crushed soft twigs of the sandal-trees hard by, and with its juice, naturally sweet and cold as ice, made a mark on his brow, and anointed him from head to foot. I allayed the perspiration by camphor-dust powdered in my hand, broken from the interstices of the split bark of the trees near, and fanned him with a plantain-leaf dripping with pure water, while the bark robe he wore was moist with the sandal placed on his breast; and as I again and again strewed fresh lotus couches, and anointed him with sandal, and removed the perspiration, and constantly fanned him, the thought arose in my mind, 'Surely nothing is too hard for Love! For how far apart would seem Pundarika, by nature simple and content with his woodland home, like a fawn, and Mahaçveta, the Gandharva princess, a galaxy of graces: surely there is nothing for Love in the world hard, or difficult, or unsubdued, or impossible. He scornfully attempts the hardest tasks, nor can any resist him. For why speak of beings endowed with sense when, if it so please him, he can bring together even things without sense? For the night lotus-bed falls in love with the sun's ray, and the day-lotus leaves her hatred of the moon, and night is joined to day, (311) and moonlight waits on darkness, and shade stands in the face of light, and lightning stays firm in the cloud, and old age accompanies youth; and what more difficult thing can there be than that one like Pundarika, who is an ocean of unfathomable depth, should thus be brought to the lightness of grass? Where is his former penance, and where his present state? Truly it is a cureless ill that has befallen him! What must I now do or attempt, or whither go, or what refuge or resource, or help or remedy, or plan, or recourse, is there by which his life may be sustained? Or by what skill, or device, or means, or support, or thought, or solace, may he yet live?' These and other such thoughts arose in my downcast heart. But again I thought, 'What avails dwelling on this useless thought? His life must be preserved by any means, good or bad, (312) and there is no other way to save it but by her union with him; and as he is timid by reason of his youth, and moreover thinks the affairs of love contrary to his vow, unseemly, and a mockery in himself, he certainly, even at his last breath, will not gratify his longing by himself approaching her. This his disease of love admits no delay. Good men always hold that a friend's life must be saved even by a blameworthy deed; so that though this is a shameful and wrong action, it has yet become imperative for me. What else can be done? What other course is there? I will certainly go to her. I will tell her his state.' Thus thinking, I left the place on some pretext, and came hither without telling him, lest perchance he should feel that I was engaged in an unseemly employment, and should in shame hold me back. This being the state of affairs, thou, lady, art the judge of what action is needful for the time, worthy of so great a love, fitting for my coming, and right for thyself." With these words he became silent, fixing his eyes on my face to see what I should say. But I, having heard him, was plunged, as it were, into a lake of ambrosial joy, or immersed in an ocean of the sweets of love, floating above all joys, mounting to the pinnacle of all desires, resting at the utmost bound of gladness. I showed my happiness by joyful tears pouring clear, large, and heavy, because my eyelashes were not closed, strung like a garland by their unceasing succession, and not touching my cheek, because my face was somewhat bent in sudden shame; (313) and I thought at once: "0 joy, that Love entangles him as well as me, so that even while tormenting me, he has in part showed me kindness; and if Pundarika is indeed in such a plight, what help has not Love given me, or what has he not done for me, or what friend is like him, or how could a false tale, even in sleep, pass the lips of the calm-souled Kapiñjala? And if this be so, what must I do, and what must I say in his presence?" While I was thus deliberating, a portress hastily entered, and said to me: "Princess, the Queen has learnt from her attendants that thou art ill, and is now coming." On hearing this, Kapiñjala, fearing the contact of a great throng, quickly rose, saying: "Princess, a cause of great delay has arisen. The sun, the crest-jewel of the three worlds, is now sinking, so I will depart. But I raise my hands in salutation as a slight offering for the saving of my dear friend's life; that is my greatest treasure." (314) Then, without awaiting my reply, he with difficulty departed, for the door was blocked by the entrance of the attendants that heralded my Lady Mother. There were the portresses bearing golden staves; the chamberlains with unguents, cosmetics, flowers, and betel, holding waving cowries; and in their train were humpbacks, barbarians, deaf men, eunuchs, dwarfs, and deaf mutes. '"'Then the Queen came to me, and after a long visit, went home; but I observed nothing of what she did, said, or attempted while with me, for my heart was far away. When she went the sun, with his steeds bright as haritala pigeons, lord of life to the lotuses, and friend of the cakravakas, had sunk to rest, and the face of the West was growing crimson, and the lotus-beds were turning green, and the East was darkening to blue; and the world of mortals was overcome by a blackness like a wave of the ocean of final destruction turbid with the mud of hell. I knew not what to do, and asked Taralika, "Seest thou not, Taralika, how confused is my mind? My senses are bewildered with uncertainty, and I am unable myself to see in the least what I should do. (315) Do thou tell me what is right to do, for Kapiñjala is now gone, and he told his tale in thy presence. What if, like a base-born maiden, I cast away shame, relinquish self-control, desert modesty, contemn the reproach of men, transgress good behaviour, trample on conduct, despise noble birth, accept the disgrace of a course blinded by love, and without my father's leave, or my mother's approval, I were to go to him myself and offer him my hand? This transgression against my parents would be a great wrong. But if, taking the other alternative, I follow duty, I shall in the first place accept death, and even so I shall break the heart of his reverence Kapiñjala, who loved him first, and who came hither of his own accord. And again, if perchance that man's death is brought about by my deed in destroying his hopes, then causing the death of an ascetic would be a grave sin." While I thus considered, the East became gray with the glimmering light of moonrise, like a line of woods in spring with the pollen of flowers. And in the moonlight the eastern quarter showed white as if with the powdered pearls from the frontal bone of the elephant of darkness torn open by the lion-moon, (316) or pale with sandal-dust falling from the breast of the nymphs of the eastern mountain, or light with the rising of sand in an island left by the tide, stirred by the wind on the waves of the ever-moving ocean. Slowly the moonlight glided down, and made bright the face of night, as if it were the flash of her teeth as she softly smiled at the sight of the moon; then evening shone with the moon's orb, as if it were the circle of Çesha's hoods breaking through the earth as it rose from hell; after that, night became fair with the moon, the gladdener of the world of mortals, the delight of lovers, now leaving its childhood behind and becoming the ally of Love, with a youthful glow arising within it, the only fitting light for the enjoyment of Love's pleasures, ambrosial, climbing the sky like youth impersonate. Then I beheld the risen moon as if flushed with the coral of the ocean it had just left, crimsoned with the blood of its deer struck by the paw of the lion of the Eastern Mountain, marked with the lac of Rohini's [274] feet, as she spurned her lord in a love quarrel, (317) and ruddy with his newly-kindled glow. And I, though the fire of Love burnt within me, had my heart darkened; though my body rested on the lap of Taralika, I was a captive in the hands of Love; though my eyes were fixed on the moon, I was looking on death, and I straightway thought, "There are the honey-month, the Malaya winds, and all other such things brought together, and in the same place to have this evil miscreant moon cannot be endured. My heart cannot bear it. Its rising now is like a shower of coals to one consumed by fever, or a fall of snow to one ill from cold, or the bite of a black snake to one faint with the swelling of poison." And as I thus thought, a swoon closed my eyes, like the sleep brought by moonlight that withers the lotuses of the day. Soon, however, I regained consciousness by means of the fanning and sandal unguents of the bewildered Taralika, and I saw her weeping, her face dimmed with ceaseless tears, pressing the point of a moist moonstone to my brow, and seeming possessed by despair impersonate. As I opened my eyes, she fell at my feet, and said, raising hands yet wet with the thick sandal ointment: "Princess, why think of shame or disrespect to parents? Be kind; send me, and I will fetch the beloved of thy heart; (318) rise, or go thither thyself. Henceforth thou canst not bear this Love that is an ocean whose manifold passionate waves [275] are swelling at the rise of a strong moon." To this speech I replied: "Mad girl, what is love to me? The moon it is, even the lord of the night lotuses, who removes all scruples, undermines all search for means of escape, conceals all difficulties, takes away all doubts, contemns all fears, roots out all shame, veils the sinful levity of going myself to my lover, avoids all delay, and has come merely to lead me either to Pundarika or to death. Rise, therefore; for while I have life I will follow him and honour him who, dear as he is, tortures my heart." Thus saying, I rose, leaning on her, for my limbs were yet unsteady with the weakness of the swoon caused by Love, and as I rose my right eye throbbed, presaging ill, and in sudden terror I thought: "What new thing is this threatened by Destiny?" (319) '"'The firmament was now flooded with moonlight, as if the moon's orb, which had not yet risen far, was, like the waterpipe of the temple of the universe, discharging a thousand streams of the heavenly Ganges, pouring forth the waves of an ambrosial ocean, shedding many a cascade of sandal-juice, and bearing floods of nectar; the world seemed to learn what life was in the White Continent, and the pleasures of seeing the land of Soma; the round earth was being poured out from the depths of a Milky Ocean by the moon, which was like the rounded tusk of the Great Boar; the moonrise offerings were being presented in every house by the women with sandal-water fragrant with open lotuses; the highways were crowded with thousands of women-messengers sent by fair ladies; girls going to meet their lovers ran hither and thither, veiled in blue silk and fluttered by the dread of the bright moonlight as if they were the nymphs of the white day lotus groves concealed in the splendours of the blue lotuses; the sky became an alluvial island in the river of night, with its centre whitened by the thick pollen of the groves of open night lotuses; while the night lotus-beds in the house-tanks were waking, encircled by bees which clung to every blossom; (320) the world of mortals was, like the ocean, unable to contain the joy of moonrise, and seemed made of love, of festivity, of mirth, and of tenderness: evening was pleasant with the murmur of peacocks garrulous in gladness at the cascade that fell from the waterpipes of moonstone. '"'Taralika accompanied me, holding powders, perfumes, unguents, betel, and various flowers, and I had also that napkin, wet with the sandal ointment which had been applied in my swoon, and which had its nap slightly disordered and gray with the partly-dried mark of sandalwood clinging to it; the rosary was on my neck; the parijata spray was kissing the tip of my ear; veiled in red silk that seemed fashioned from rays of rubies, I went down from the top of that palace, unseen by any of my devoted attendants. On my way I was pursued by a swarm of bees, which hastened, leaving lotus-beds and deserting gardens, drawn by the scent of the parijata spray, sportively forming a blue veil round me. I departed through the door of the pleasure-grove and set out to meet Pundarika. (321) As I went, I thought, seeing myself attended by Taralika only: "What needs pomp of retinue when we seek our dearest! Surely our servants then but play a mockery of attendance, for Love follows me with shaft fitted to the strung bow; the moon, stretching out a long ray, [276] draws me on like a hand; passion supports me at every step from fear of a fall; my heart rushes on with the senses, leaving shame behind; longing has gained certainty, and leads me on." Aloud I said: "Oh, Taralika, would that this miscreant moon would with its beams seize him by the hair and draw him forward like myself!" As I thus spoke, she smilingly replied: "Thou art foolish, my princess! What does the moon want with Pundarika? Nay, rather, he himself, as though wounded by Love, does all these things for thee; for under the guise of his image he kisses thy cheeks marked with drops of perspiration; with trembling ray he falls on thy fair breast; he touches the gems of thy girdle; entangled in thy bright nails, he falls at thy feet; moreover, the form of this lovesick moon wears the pallor of a sandal unguent dried by fever; (322) he stretches out his rays [277] white as lotus-fibres; under the guise of his reflection he falls on crystal pavements; with rays [278] gray as the dust from the filaments inside the ketaki, he plunges into lotus-pools; he touches with his beams [279] the moonstones wet with spray; he hates the day lotus-groves with their pairs of cakravakas once severed." With such discourse fitting for the time I approached that spot in her company. I then bathed my feet, gray with pollen from the creeper flowers on our path, in a spot near Kapiñjala's abode which had a stream of moonstone, liquefied by moonrise, flowing from Kailasa's slope; and there, on the left bank of the lake, I heard the sound of a man's weeping, softened by distance. Some fear had arisen within me at first, from the quivering of my right eye, and now that my heart was yet more torn by this cry, as if my downcast mind were telling some dreadful tidings within, I cried in terror: "Taralika, what means this?" And with trembling limbs I breathlessly hastened on. '"'Then I heard afar a bitter cry, clear in the calm of night: "Alas, I am undone! I am consumed! I am deceived! What is this that has befallen me? What has happened? I am uprooted! (323) Cruel demon Love, evil and pitiless, what shameful deed hast thou brought to pass? Ah, wicked, evil, wanton Mahaçveta, how had he harmed thee? Ah, evil, wanton, monstrous [280] moon, thou hast gained thy desire. Cruel soft breeze of the South, thy softness is gone, and thy will is fulfilled. That which was to be done is done. Go now as thou wilt! Ah, venerable Çvetaketu, tender to thy son, thou knowest not that thy life is stolen from thee! Dharma, thou art dispossessed! Penance, thou art protectorless! Eloquence, thou art widowed! Truth, thou art lordless! Heaven, thou art void! Friend, protect me! Yet I will follow thee! I cannot remain even a moment without thee, alone! How canst thou now suddenly leave me, and go thy way like a stranger on whom my eyes had never rested? Whence comes this thy great hardness? Say, whither, without thee, shall I go? Whom shall I implore? What refuge shall I seek? I am blinded! For me space is empty! Life is aimless, penance vain, the world void of joy! With whom shall I wander, to whom speak, with whom hold converse? Do thou arise! Grant me an answer. Friend, where is thine old love to me? Where that smiling welcome that never failed me?" (324) '"'Such were the words I heard Kapiñjala utter; and as I heard them I uttered a loud cry, while yet far off, as if my life had fallen; and with my silk cloak torn as it clung to the creepers by the lake's bank, and my feet placed on the ground regardless of its being rough or even, and as hastily as I could, I went on to that place, stumbling at every step, and yet as if led on by one who lifted me up again. '"'There I beheld Pundarika lying on a couch made on a slab of moonstone wet with showers of cool spray, close to the lake; it was made of lotus-fibres like a garland of tender flowers from all lilies, and seemed to be formed wholly of the points of Love's arrows. Pundarika seemed from his great stillness to be listening for the sound of my step. He seemed to have gained a moment's happiness in sleep, as if Love's pain had been quenched by inward wrath; he seemed engaged in a yoga penance of holding his breath, as an atonement for his breach of ascetic duty; he seemed to murmur, with bright yet trembling lip: "By thy deed am I come to this pass." He seemed pierced by the moonbeams which, under the guise of his bright finger-nails placed on a heart throbbing with Love's fire, fell on his back as he lay averted in hatred of the moon. (325) He bore a mark on his brow of a line of sandal, which, by its being pale from dryness, was like a digit of Love's waning moon portending his own destruction. Life seemed to leave him in anger, saying: "Fool, another is dearer to thee than I!" His eyes were not wholly closed; their pupils were slightly turned to look; they were red with ceaseless weeping; they seemed to drop blood, since by failure of breath his tears were exhausted; and they were partly curved in pain at Love's darts. He now experienced the pain of unconsciousness, as if together with the torment of love he were also yielding life itself; he seemed to meditate a new version of Love's mystery, and to practise an unwonted retention of breath. His life seemed to be carried off as a prize [281] by Love, who had in kindness arranged my coming. On his brow was a sandal tripundraka mark; he wore a sacrificial thread of juicy lotus-fibre; his dress clung to his shoulder beautiful as the leaf that ensheathes a plantain; his rosary had only the thickness of a single row; [282] the ashes on his brow were of abundant white camphor-powder; he was fair with the string of lotus-fibre, bound on his arm as an amulet; he seemed to wear the garb of Love's vow, as if completing a charm for my coming. With his eye he tenderly uttered the reproach: "Hard-hearted! I was but followed by one glance, and never again received thy favour." (326) His lips were slightly open, so that his form gleamed white in the rays of his teeth, which came forth as if they were moonbeams that had entered him to take away his life; with his left hand placed on a heart breaking with the pain of love, he seemed to say: "Be kind, depart not with my life, thou that art dear as life!" and so to hold me firmly in his heart; his right hand, which from the uneven rays of his nails jutting forth seemed to drop sandal, was raised as if to ward off the moonlight; near him stood his pitcher, the friend of his penance, with neck upright, as if it gazed at the path by which his life was just rising; the garland of lotus-fibres which adorned his neck bound him as if with a rope of moonbeams to lead him to another world; and when, at the sight of me, Kapiñjala, with a cry of "Help, help!" raised his hands, and crying aloud with redoubled tears, fell on his neck, at that very moment I, wicked and ill-fated as I was, beheld that noble youth yield up his life. The darkness of a swoon came upon me, and I descended into hell; nor knew I anything of whither I then went, or what I did or said. Neither knew I why my life did not at that moment leave me; (327) whether from the utter hardness of my stupefied heart, or from the callousness to bear thousands of troubles of my wretched body, or from being fated to endure a long grief, or from being a vessel of evil earned in another birth, or from the skill of my cruel destiny in bestowing sorrow, or from the singular perversity of malign accursed love. Only this I know: that when at length in my misery I regained consciousness, I found myself writhing on the ground, tortured, as if I had fallen on a fire, by a grief too hard to bear. I could not believe aught so impossible as that he should die and I yet live, and rising with a bitter cry of "Alas, what is this--mother, father, friends?" I exclaimed: "Ah, my Lord, thou who upholdest my life, speak to me! Whither goest thou, pitilessly leaving me alone and protectorless? Ask Taralika what I have suffered for thy sake. Hardly have I been able to pass the day, drawn out into a thousand ages. Be gracious! Utter but one word! Show tenderness to her that loves thee! Look but a little on me! Fulfil my longing! I am wretched! I am loyal! I am thine in heart! I am lordless! I am young! I am helpless! I am unhappy! I am bereft of other refuge! I am vanquished by Love! Why showest thou no pity? Say what I have done or left undone, what command I have neglected, or in what thing pleasing to thee I have not shown affection, that thou art wroth. (328) Fearest thou not the reproach of men in that thou goest, deserting me, thy handmaid, without cause? Yet why think of me, perverse and wicked, and skilled to deceive by false shows of love! Alas, I yet live! Alas, I am accursed and undone! For why? I have neither thee, nor honour, nor kinsfolk, nor heaven. Shame on me, a worker of evil deeds, for whose sake this fate hath befallen thee. There is none of so murderous a heart as I who went home, leaving one so peerless as thou. What to me were home, mother, father, kinsfolk, followers? Alas, to what refuge shall I flee? Fate, show pity to me! I entreat thee. Lady of destiny, give me a boon of mercy! Show compassion! Protect a lordless lady! Ye woodland goddesses, be kind! Give back his life! Help, Earth, that bringest favours to all! Night, showest thou no mercy? Father Kailasa, thy protection I implore. Show thy wonted pity!" Such were my laments, so far as I remember, and I murmured incoherently as one held by a demon, or possessed or mad, or struck down by an evil spirit. In the tears that fell in torrents upon me I was turned to water, I melted away, I took upon me a shape of water; my laments, followed by the sharp rays of my teeth, fell as if with showers of tears; (329) my hair, with its flowers ever falling, seemed to shed teardrops, and my very ornaments by the tears of pure gemlight that sprang from them seemed to raise their lament. I longed for my own death as for his life; I yearned to enter his heart with my whole soul, dead though he were; with my hand I touched his cheeks, and his brow with the roots of his hair, white with dry sandal, and his shoulders with the lotus-fibres on them, and his heart covered with lotus-leaves and flecks of sandal-juice. With the tender reproach, "Thou art cruel, Pundarika! Thou carest nought that I am thus wretched!" I again sought to win him back. I again embraced him, I again clasped his neck, and wept aloud. Then I rebuked that string of pearls, saying: "Ah, wicked one, couldst not even thou have preserved his life till my coming?" Then again I fell at Kapiñjala's feet with the prayer, "Be kind, my lord; restore him to life!" and again, clinging to Taralika's neck, I wept. Even now, when I think of it, I know not how these piteous, tender words came forth from my ill-fated heart--words all unthought, unlearnt, untaught, unseen before; nor whence these utterances arose; nor whence these heart-rending cries of despair. My whole being was changed. (330) For there rose a deluge wave of inward tears, the springs of weeping were set loose, the buds of wailing came forth, the peaks of sorrow grew lofty and a long line of madness was begun.' And so, as she thus told her own tale, she seemed again to taste the bitterness of that former plight, so cruel, and so hardly endured, and a swoon bereft her of sense. In the force of her swoon she fell on the rock, and Candrapida hastily stretched out his hand, like her servant, and supported her, full of sorrow. At length he brought her back to consciousness by fanning her with the edge of her own bark garment, wet with tears. Filled with pity, and with his cheeks bathed in tears, he said to her, as she came to life: 'Lady, it is by my fault that thy grief has been brought back to its first freshness, and that thou hast come to this pass. Therefore no more of this tale. Let it be ended. Even I cannot bear to hear it. For the story even of past sorrow endured by a friend pains us as if we ourselves were living through it. [283] Thou wilt not therefore surely place on the fire of grief that life so precious and so hardly preserved?' (331) Thus addressed, with a long, hot sigh and eyes dissolved in tears, she despairingly replied: 'Prince, even in that dreadful night my hated life did not desert me; [284] it is not likely that it will leave me now. Even blessed Death turns away his eyes from one so ill-fated and wicked. Whence could one so hard-hearted feel grief? all this can be but feigned in a nature so vile. But be that as it may, that shameless heart has made me chief among the shameless. For to one so adamantine as to have seen love in all his power, and yet to have lived through this, what can mere speaking of it matter? '"'Or what could there be harder to tell than this very thing, which is supposed to be impossible to hear or say? I will at least briefly tell the marvel that followed on that thunderbolt, and I will tell, too, what came as a tiny dim cause of my prolonging my life, which by its mirage so deludes me that I bear about a hated body, almost dead, alien to me, burdensome, unfitted to my needs, and thankless for my care. That shall suffice. Afterwards, in a sudden change [285] of feeling, with resolve firmly set on death, lamenting bitterly, I cried to Taralika: "Rise, cruel-hearted girl; how long wilt thou weep? Bring together wood and make a pile. I will follow the lord of my life." (332) '"'Straightway a being swiftly left the moon's orb and descended from the sky. Behind him he trailed a silken vesture hanging from his crest, white as the foam of nectar, and waving in the wind; his cheeks were reddened with the bright gems that swayed in his ears; on his breast he bore a radiant necklace, from the size of its pearls like a cluster of stars; his turban was tied with strips of white silk; his head was thick with curling locks, and dark as bees; his earring was an open moon lotus; on his shoulder was the impress of the saffron lines that adorned his wives; he was white as a moon lotus, lofty in stature, endowed with all the marks of greatness, and godlike in form; he seemed to purify space by the light shed round him clear as pure water, and to anoint it as by a thick frost with a dewy ambrosial shower that created a chill as he shed it from his limbs, cool and fragrant, and to besprinkle it with a rich store of goçirsha [286] sandal-juice. '"'With arms sturdy as the trunk of Airavata, and fingers white as lotus-fibres and cool to the touch, he lifted my dead lord, (333) and, in a voice deep as a drum, he said to me: "Mahaçveta, my child, thou must not die; for thou shalt again be united with him!" And with these words, tender as a father's, he flew into the sky with Pundarika. '"'But this sudden event filled me with fear, dismay, and eager anxiety, and with upraised face I asked Kapiñjala what it might mean. He, however, started up hastily without replying, and with the cry, "Monster, whither goest thou with my friend?" with uplifted eyes and sudden wrath he hastily girt up his loins, and following him in his flight, in hot pursuit he rose into the sky; and while I yet gazed they all entered amongst the stars. But the departure of Kapiñjala was to me like a second death of my beloved, and it redoubled my grief, so that my heart was rent asunder. Bewildered what to do, I cried to Taralika: "Knowest thou not? Tell me what this means!" But she, with all a woman's timidity at the sight, was at that very moment trembling in all her limbs, overcome by a fear stronger than her grief, and was frightened, moreover, by the dread of my death; and so with downcast heart she piteously replied: "Princess, wretch that I am, I know not! Yet this is a great miracle. The man is of no mortal mould, and thou wert pityingly comforted by him in his flight as by a father. Such godlike beings are not wont to deceive us, even in sleep, much less face to face; and when I think it over I cannot see the least cause for his speaking falsely. (334) It is meet, therefore, that thou shouldst weigh it, and restrain thy longing for death. In thy present state it is in truth a great ground for comfort. Moreover, Kapiñjala has gone in pursuit of Pundarika. From him thou canst learn whence and who this being is, and why Pundarika on his death was by him raised and carried off, and whither he is carried, and wherefore thou wert consoled by him with the boon of a hope of reunion that exceeds thought; then thou canst devote thyself either to life or death. For when death is resolved upon, it is easy to compass. But this can wait; for Kapiñjala, if he lives, will certainly not rest without seeing thee; therefore let thy life be preserved till his return." Thus saying, she fell at my feet. And I, from the thirst for life that mortals find so hard to overcome, and from the weakness of woman's nature, and from the illusion his words had created, and from my anxiety for Kapiñjala's return, thought that that plan was best for the time, and did not die. For what will not hope achieve? '"'That night I spent in Taralika's company on the bank of the lake. To my wretchedness it was like a night of doom, [287] drawn out to a thousand years, all torment, all grief, all hell, all fire. (335) Sleep was rooted out, and I tossed on the ground; my face was hidden by the loosened and dishevelled tresses that clung to my cheeks, wet with tears and gray with dust, and my throat was weak, for my voice failed, broken with piteous weeping. '"'At dawn I arose and bathed in the lake, and having formed my resolve, I took, for love of Pundarika, his pitcher and his bark garments and his rosary; for I clearly knew the worthlessness of the world. I perceived my own lack of merit; I pictured to myself the remediless cruelty of the blows of fate; I pondered the inevitableness of grief; I beheld the harshness of destiny; I meditated the course of love, rich in sorrow; I learnt the inconstancy of earthly things; I considered the frailness of all joys. Father and mother were disregarded; kinsfolk and followers abandoned; the joys of earth were banished from my mind; the senses held in firm restraint. '"'I took the ascetic vow, and sought the protection of Çiva, lord of the three worlds and helper of the helpless. Next day my father came, having somehow learnt my story, bringing with him my mother and kinsfolk. Long he wept, and strove with all his might and by every means--prayers, admonitions, and tender words of every kind--to lead me home. (336) And when he understood my firm resolve, and knew that I could not be turned from that infatuation, he could not, even though without hope, part with his love for his child; and though I often bade him go, he stayed for some days, and went home at length full of grief, and with his heart hot within him. '"'After his going, it was only by empty tears that I could show my gratitude to my lord; by many a penance I wasted my hated body, worn away by love of him, rich in ill, devoid of shame, ill-omened, and the home of a thousand tortures of grief; I lived but on water and the roots and fruits of the wood; under the guise of telling my beads I counted his virtues; thrice a day I bathed in the lake; I daily worshipped Çiva, and in this cell I dwelt with Taralika, tasting the bitterness of a long grief. Such am I, evil, ill-omened, shameless, cruel, cold, murderous, contemptible, useless, fruitless, helpless, and joyless. (337) Why should one so noble as thou deign to look on or speak with me, the doer of that monstrous crime, the slaughter of a Brahman?' Thus saying, she covered her face with the white edge of her bark garment, as if veiling the moon with a fleck of autumn cloud, and, unable to quell the irresistible torrent of her tears, she gave way to her sobs, and began to weep loud and long. '"From the very first Candrapida had been filled with reverence by her beauty, modesty, and courtesy; by the charm of her speech, her unselfishness and her austerity; and by her serenity, humility, dignity, and purity. But now he was carried away both by the story of her life, which showed her noble character, and by her devoted spirit, and a fresh tenderness arose in him. With softened heart he gently said: 'Lady, those may weep who fear pain, and are devoid of gratitude, and love pleasure, for they are unable to do anything worthy of love, and show their affection merely by vain tears. But thou who hast done all rightly, what duty of love hast thou left undone, that thou weepest? For Pundarika's sake, thy kinsfolk who from thy birth have been around thee, dear as they were, have been forsaken as if they were strangers. (338) Earthly pleasures, though at thy feet, have been despised and reckoned light as grass. The joys of power, though their riches excelled the empire of Indra, have been resigned. Thy form has been emaciated by dread penances, even though by nature it was slender as a lotus-stalk. Thou hast taken the ascetic vow. Thy soul has been devoted to great penance. Thou hast dwelt in the woods, hard though it be for a woman. Moreover, life is easily resigned by those whom sorrow has overwhelmed, but it needs a greater effort not to throw away life in heavy grief. This following another to death is most vain! It is a path followed by the ignorant! It is a mere freak of madness, a path of ignorance, an enterprise of recklessness, a view of baseness, a sign of utter thoughtlessness, and a blunder of folly, that one should resign life on the death of father, brother, friend, or husband. If life leaves us not of itself, we must not resign it. For this leaving of life, if we examine it, is merely for our own interest, because we cannot bear our own cureless pain. To the dead man it brings no good whatever. For it is no means of bringing him back to life, or heaping up merit, or gaining heaven for him, or saving him from hell, or seeing him again, or being reunited with him. (339) For he is led helplessly, irresistibly to another state meet for the fruits of his own deeds. And yet he shares in the guilt of the friend who has killed himself. But a man who lives on can help greatly, by offerings of water and the like, both the dead man and himself; but by dying he helps neither. Remember how Rati, the sole and beloved wife of Love, when her noble husband, who won the hearts of all women, was burnt up by the fire of Çiva, yet did not yield her life; and remember also Kunti, of the race of Vrishni, daughter of Surasena, for her lord was Pandu the wise; his seat was perfumed by the flowers in the crests of all the kings whom he had conquered without an effort, and he received the tribute of the whole earth, and yet when he was consumed by Kindama's curse she still remained alive. Uttara, too, the young daughter of Virata, on the death of Abhimanyu, gentle and heroic, and joyful to the eyes as the young moon, yet lived on. And Duhçalya, too, daughter of Dhritarashtra, tenderly cared for by her hundred brothers; when Jayadratha, king of Sindhu, was slain by Arjuna, fair as he was and great as he had become by Çiva's [288] gift, yet made no resignation of her life. (340) And others are told of by thousands, daughters of Rakshasas, gods, demons, ascetics, mortals, siddhas and Gandharvas, who when bereft of their husbands yet preserved their lives. Still, where reunion is doubtful, life might be yielded. But for thee, thou hast heard from that great being a promise of reunion. What doubt can there be in a matter of thine own experience, and how could falsehood find a place in the words of such noble truth-speaking saints, even when there might be greater cause? And what union could there be between the dead and the living? Therefore of a surety that wondrous being was filled with pity and carried away Pundarika to heaven solely to bring him back to life. For the power of great men transcends thought. Life has many aspects. Destiny is manifold. Those skilled in penance are fitted for wondrous miracles. Many are the forms of power gained by previous actions. Moreover, however subtly we may consider the matter, what other cause can we imagine for Pundarika's being taken away, but the gift of fresh life. And this, thou must know, is not impossible. It is a path often trodden. (341) For Pramadvara, daughter of Viçvavasu, king of the Gandharvas and Menaka, lost her life through a poisonous snake at the hermitage of Sthulakeça, and the young ascetic Ruru, son of Pramati and grandson of the Bhrigu Cyavana, provided her with half his own life. And when Arjuna was following the Açvamedha steed, he was pierced in the van of the battle by an arrow from his own son Babhruvahana, and a Naga maiden, Ulupa, brought him back to life. When Parikshit, Abhimanyu's son, was consumed by Açvatthama's fiery dart, though he had already died at birth, Krishna, filled with pity by Uttara's lament, restored his precious life. And at Ujjayini, he whose steps are honoured by the three worlds, carried off from the city of death the son of Sandipani the Brahman, and brought him back. [289] And in thy case, too, the same will somehow come to pass. For by thy present grief, what is effected or what won? Fate is all-powerful. Destiny is strong. We cannot even draw a breath at our own will. The freaks of that accursed and most harsh destiny are exceeding cruel. A love fair in its sincerity is not allowed long to endure; for joys are wont to be in their essence frail and unlasting, while sorrows by their nature are long-lived. (342) For how hardly are mortals united in one life, while in a thousand lives they are separated. Thou canst not surely then blame thyself, all undeserving of blame. For these things often happen to those who enter the tangled path of transmigration, and it is the brave who conquer misfortune.' With such gentle and soothing words he consoled her, and made her, albeit reluctantly, bathe her face with water brought in his joined hands from the cascade. '"Straightway the sun began to sink, as if he were leaving the day's duties from grief at hearing Mahaçveta's story. Then day faded away; the sun hung shining red as the pollen of a cluster of priyangu in full blossom; the quarters of space were losing the glow of sunset soft as silk dyed in the juice of many lotuses; (343) the sky was tinged with red, glowing like the pupils of a partridge, [290] while its blue was hidden; twilight was reddening and lighting up the earth, tawny as a pigeon's eye; the clusters of stars shone forth, vying with each other; the darkness of night was deepening into black, and stealing away the broad path of the stars with its form dark as a forest buffalo; the woodland avenues seemed massed together as their green was hidden by deep gloom; the wind wandered cooled by night-dew, with its path tracked by the perfume of the wild flowers as it stirred the tangle of trees and creepers; and when night had its birds all still in sleep Mahaçveta slowly rose, and saying her evening prayers, washed her feet with water from the pitcher and sat down with a hot, sorrowful sigh on her bark couch. Candrapida, too, rose and poured a libation of water strewn with flowers, said his evening prayer, and made a couch on the other rock with soft creeper boughs. As he rested upon it he went over Mahaçveta's story again in his mind. 'This evil Love,' thought he, 'has a power hard alike to cure and to endure. For even great men, when overcome by him, regard not the course of time, but suddenly lose all courage and surrender life. Yet all hail to Love, whose rule is honoured throughout the three worlds!' (344) And again he asked her: 'She that was thy handmaiden, thy friend in the resolve to dwell in the woods, and the sharer of the ascetic vow taken in thy sorrow--Taralika, where is she?' 'Noble sir,' she replied, 'from the race of Apsarases sprung from ambrosia of which I told you, there was born a fair-eyed daughter named Madira, [291] who married King Citraratha, the king whose footstool was formed of the buds in the crests of all the Gandharvas. Charmed by her countless virtues, he showed his favour by giving her the title of Chief Queen, bearing with it cowrie, sceptre and umbrella, marked by a golden throne, and placing all the zenana below her--a woman's rarest glory! And, as they pursued together the joys of youth in their utter devotion to each other, a priceless daughter was in due time born to them, by name Kadambari, most wondrous, the very life of her parents, and of the whole Gandharva race, and even of all living beings. From her birth she was the friend of my childhood, and shared with me seat, couch, meat and drink; on her my deepest love was set, and she was the home of all my confidence, and like my other heart. Together we learnt to dance and sing, and our childhood passed away free from restraint in the sports that belong to it. (345) From sorrow at my unhappy story she made a resolve that she would in nowise accept a husband while I was still in grief, and before her girl friends she took an oath, saying: "If my father should in anywise or at any time wish to marry me against my will and by force, I will end my life by hunger, fire, cord, or poison." Citraratha himself heard all the resolution of his daughter, spoken of positively in the repeated gossip of her attendants, and as time went on, seeing that she was growing to full youth, he became prey to great vexation, and for a time took pleasure in nothing, and yet, as she was his only child and he dearly loved her, he could say nothing to her, though he saw no other resource. But as he deemed the time now ripe, he considered the matter with Queen Madira, and sent the herald Kshiroda to me at early dawn with the message: "Dear Mahaçveta, our hearts were already burnt up by thy sad fate, and now this new thing has come upon us. To thee we look to win back Kadambari." Thereupon, in reverence to the words of one so respected, and in love to my friend, I sent Taralika with Kshiroda to bid Kadambari not add grief to one already sad enough; (346) for if she wished me to live she must fulfil her father's words; and ere Taralika had been long gone, thou, noble sir, camest to this spot.' So saying she was silent. '"Then the moon arose, simulating by his mark the heart of Mahaçveta, burnt through by the fire of grief, bearing the great crime of the young ascetic's death, showing the long ingrained scar of the burning of Daksha's curse, [292] white with thick ashes, and half covered by black antelope skin, like the left breast of Durga, the crest-jewel of Çiva's thick locks. (347) Then at length Candrapida beheld Mahaçveta asleep, and quietly lay down himself on his leafy couch and fell asleep while thinking what Vaiçampayana and sorrowing Patralekha and his princely compeers would then be imagining about him. '"Then at dawn, when Mahaçveta had honoured the twilight and was murmuring the aghamarshana, and Candrapida had said his morning prayer, Taralika was seen coming with a Gandharva boy named Keyuraka (348). As she drew near, she looked long at Candrapida, wondering who he might be, and approaching Mahaçveta, she bowed low and sat respectfully by her. Then Keyuraka, with head low bent even from afar, took his place on a rock some way off, assigned to him by a glance from Mahaçveta, and was filled with wonder at the sight of Candrapida's marvellous beauty, rare, mocking that of gods, demons, Gandharvas, and Vidyadharas, and surpassing even the god of love. (349) '"When she had finished her prayers, Mahaçveta asked Taralika, 'Didst thou see my dear Kadambari well? and will she do as I said?' 'Princess,' said Taralika, in a very sweet voice, with head respectfully inclined, 'I saw Princess Kadambari well in all respects, and told her all thine advice; and what was her reply, when with a continuous stream of thick tears she had heard it, that her lute-player Keyuraka, whom she has sent, shall tell thee;' and as she ceased Keyuraka said, 'Princess Mahaçveta, my lady Kadambari, with a close embrace, sends this message, "Is this, that Taralika has been sent to tell me, said to please my parents or to test my feelings, or to subtly reproach me for my crime in dwelling at home; or is it a desire to break our friendship, or a device to desert one who loves her, or is it simply anger? Thou knowest that my heart overflows with a love that was inborn in me. How wert thou not ashamed to send so cruel a message? Thou, erst so soft of speech, from whom hast thou learnt to speak unkindness and utter reproach? Who in his senses would, even if happy, make up his mind to undertake even a slight matter that would end in pain? how much less one like me, whose heart is struck down by deep grief? For in a heart worn by a friend's sorrow, what hope is there of joy, what contentment, what pleasures or what mirth? (350) How should I fulfil the desire of Love, poisonous, pitiless, unkind, who has brought my dear friend to so sad a plight? Even the hen cakravaka, when the lotus-beds are widowed by the sun's setting, renounces from the friendship that arises from dwelling among them, the joys of union with her lord; how much more, then, should women! While my friend dwells day and night sorrowing for the loss of her lord and avoiding the sight of mankind, how could anyone else enter my heart; and while my friend in her sorrow tortures herself with penances and suffers great pain, how could I think so lightly of that as to seek my own happiness and accept a husband, or how could any happiness befall me? For from love of thee I have in this matter accepted disgrace by embracing an independent life contrary to the wont of maidens. I have despised noble breeding, transgressed my parent's commands, set at nought the gossip of mankind, thrown away modesty, a woman's inborn grace; how, tell me, should such a one go back? Therefore I salute thee, I bow before thee, I embrace thy feet; be gracious to me. As thou hast gone hence into the forest, taking my life with thee, make not this request in thy mind, even in a dream."' (351) Thus having said, he became silent, and Mahaçveta thought long, and then dismissed Keyuraka, saying, 'Do thou depart; I will go to her and do what is fitting.' On his departure she said to Candrapida, 'Prince, Hemakuta is pleasant and the royal city of Citraratha marvellous; the Kinnara country is curious, the Gandharva world beautiful, and Kadambari is noble and generous of heart. If thou deemest not the journey too tedious, if no serious business is hindered, if thy mind is curious to behold rare sights, if thou art encouraged by my words, if the sight of wonders gives thee joy, if thou wilt deign to grant my request, if thou thinkest me worthy of not being denied, if any friendship has grown up between us, or if I am deserving of thy favour, then thou canst not disdain to fulfil this prayer. Thou canst go hence with me, and see not only Hemakuta, that treasure of beauty, but my second self, Kadambari; and having removed this foolish freak of hers, thou canst rest for one day, and return hither the next morn. For by the sight of thy kindness so freely [293] given, my grief has become bearable, since I have told thee my story, breathed out as it was from a heart long overwhelmed with the darkness of grief. (352) For the presence of the good gives joy even to those who are sad at heart, and a virtue springs from such as thou art that wholly tends to make others happy.' '"'Lady,' replied Candrapida, 'from the first moment of seeing thee I have been devoted to thy service. Let thy will be imposed without hesitation'; so saying, he started in her company. '"In due time he reached Hemakuta, the royal city of the Gandharvas, and passing through the seven inner courts with their golden arches, the prince approached the door of the maidens' dwelling. Escorted by porters, who ran forward at the sight of Mahaçveta, bowing while yet far off, and holding their golden staves, he entered and beheld the inside of the maidens' palace. It seemed a new woman's world, consisting wholly of women in countless numbers, as if the womankind of the three worlds had been gathered together to make such a total; or it might be a fresh manless creation, a yet unborn continent of girls, a fifth women's era, a fresh race created by Prajapati out of hatred for men, or a treasury of women prepared for the making of many yugas. The wave of girlish beauty which surrounded it on all sides, which flooded space, sprinkled nectar on the day, rained splendour on the interstices of the world, and shone lustrous as an emerald, made the place all aglow as if with thousands of moons; (353) it seemed modelled in moonlight; jewels made another sky; service was done by bright glances; every part was made for youthful pleasures; here was an assemblage for Rati's sports, a material for Love's practice; here the entrance of all was made smooth by Love; here all was affection, beauty, the supreme deity of passion, the arrows of Love, here all was wonder, marvel, and tenderness of youth. (356) When he had gone a little way in he heard the pleasant talk of the maidens round Kadambari as they wandered hither and thither. Such as 'Lavalika, deck the lavali trenches with ketaki pollen. Sagarika, sprinkle jewelled dust in the tanks of scented water. Mrinalika, inlay with saffron dust the pairs of toy [294] cakravakas in the artificial lotus-beds. Makarika, scent the pot-pourri with camphor-juice. Rajanika, place jewelled lamps in the dark tamala avenues. Kumudika, cover the pomegranates with pearly nets to keep off the birds. Nipunika, draw saffron lines on the breasts of the jewelled dolls. Utpalika, sweep with golden brooms the emerald arbour in the plaintain house. Kesarika, sprinkle with wine the houses of bakul flowers. Malatika, redden with red lead the ivory roof of Kama's shrine. Nalinika, give the tame kalahamsas lotus-honey to drink. Kadalika, take the tame peacocks to the shower-bath. Kamalinika, give some sap from the lotus-fibres to the young cakravakas. Cutalatika, give the caged pigeons their meal of mango-buds. Pallavika, distribute to the tame haritala pigeons some topmost leaves of the pepper-tree. Lavangika, throw some pieces of pippali leaves into the partridges' cages. Madhukarika, make some flowery ornaments. Mayurika, dismiss the pairs of kinnaras in the singing-room. Kandalika, bring up the pairs of partridges to the top of the playing hill. Harinika, give the caged parrots and mainas their lesson.' (358) '"Then he beheld Kadambari herself in the midst of her pavilion encircled by a bevy of maidens sitting by her, whose glittering gems made them like a cluster of kalpa trees. [295] (359) She was resting on her bent arms, which lay on a white pillow placed on a small couch covered with blue silk; she was fanned by cowrie-bearers, that in the motion of their waving arms were like swimmers in the wide-flowing stream of her beauty, as if it covered the earth, which was only held up by the tusks of Mahavaraha. '"And as her reflection fell, she seemed on the jewelled pavement below to be borne away by serpents; on the walls hard by to be led by the guardians of space; on the roof above to be cast upwards by the gods; to be received by the pillars into their inmost heart; to be drunk in by the palace mirrors, to be lifted to the sky by the Vidyadharas scattered in the pavilion, looking down from the roof; to be surrounded by the universe concealed in the guise of pictures, all thronging together to see her; to be gazed at by the palace itself, which had gained a thousand eyes to behold her, in that the eyes of its peacocks' tails were outspread as they danced to the clashing of her gems; and to be steadily looked on by her own attendants, who seemed in their eagerness to behold her to have gained a divine insight. '"Her beauty bore the impress of awakening love, though but yet in promise, and she seemed to be casting childhood aside like a thing of no worth. (365) '"Such was Kadambari as the prince beheld her. Before her was seated Keyuraka, loud in praise of Candrapida's beauty, as Kadambari questioned him, saying, 'Who is he, and what are his parentage, name, appearance, and age? What did he say, and what didst thou reply? How long didst thou see him? how has he become so close a friend to Mahaçveta? and why is he coming hither?' '"Now, on beholding the moonlike beauty of Kadambari's face, the prince's heart was stirred like the tide of ocean. 'Why,' thought he, 'did not the Creator make all my senses into sight, or what noble deed has my eye done that it may look on her unchecked? Surely it is a wonder! The Creator has here made a home for every charm! Whence have the parts of this exceeding beauty been gathered? Surely from the tears that fell from the Creator's eyes in the labour of thought, as he gently moulded her with his hands, all the lotuses in the world have their birth.' (366) '"And as he thus thought his eye met hers, and she, thinking, 'This is he of whom Keyuraka spoke,' let her glance, widened by wonder at his exceeding beauty, dwell long and quietly on him. Confused by the sight of Kadambari, yet illumined by the brightness of her gaze, he stood for a moment like a rock, while at the sight of him a thrill rose in Kadambari, her jewels clashed, and she half rose. Then love caused a glow, but the excuse was the effort of hastily rising; trembling hindered her steps--the hamsas around, drawn by the sound of the anklets, got the blame; the heaving of a sigh stirred her robe--it was thought due to the wind of the cowries; her hand fell on her heart, as if to touch Candrapida's image that had entered in--it pretended to cover her bosom; she let fall tears of joy--the excuse was the pollen falling from the flowers in her ear. Shame choked her voice--the swarm of bees hastening to the lotus sweetness of her mouth was the cause; (367) the pain of the first touch of Love's arrow caused a sigh--the pain of the ketaki thorns amidst the flowers shared the guilt; a tremor shook her hand--keeping off the portress who had come with a message was her pretence; and while love was thus entering into Kadambari, a second love, as it were, arose, who with her entered the heart of Candrapida. For he thought the flash of her jewels but a veil, her entrance into his heart a favour, the tinkling of her gems a conversation, her capture of all his senses a grace, and contact with her bright beauty the fulfilment of all his wishes. Meanwhile Kadambari, advancing with difficulty a few steps, affectionately and with yearning embraced her friend, who also yearned for the sight of her so long delayed; and Mahaçveta returned her embrace yet more closely, and said, 'Dear Kadambari, in the land of Bharata there is a king named Tarapida, who wards off all grief [296] from his subjects, and who has impressed his seal on the Four Oceans by the edge of the hoofs of his noble steeds; and this his son, named Candrapida, decked [297] with the orb of earth resting on the support of his own rock-like arms, has, in pursuit of world conquest, approached this land; and he, from the moment I first beheld him, has instinctively become my friend, though there was nought to make him so; and, though my heart was cold from its resignation of all ties, yet he has attracted it by the rare and innate nobility of his character. (368) For it is rare to find a man of keen mind who is at once true of heart, unselfish in friendship, and wholly swayed by courtesy. Wherefore, having beheld him, I brought him hither by force. For I thought thou shouldst behold as I have done a wonder of Brahma's workmanship, a peerless owner of beauty, a supplanter of Lakshmi, earth's joy in a noble lord, the surpassing of gods by mortals, the full fruition of woman's eyes, the only meeting-place of all graces, the empire of nobility, and the mirror of courtesy for men. And my dear friend has often been spoken of to him by me. Therefore dismiss shame on the ground of his being unseen before, lay aside diffidence as to his being a stranger, cast away suspicion rising from his character being unknown, and behave to him as to me. He is thy friend, thy kinsman, and thy servant.' At these words of hers Candrapida bowed low before Kadambari, and as she glanced sideways at him affectionately there fell from her eyes, with their beautiful pupils turned towards the corner of their long orbs, a flood of joyous tears, as though from weariness. The moonlight of a smile, white as nectar, darted forth, as if it were the dust raised by the heart as it hastily set out; one eyebrow was raised as if to bid the head honour with an answering reverence the guest so dear to the heart; (369) her hand crept to her softly parting lips, and might seem, as the light of an emerald ring flashed between the fingers, to have taken some betel. She bowed diffidently, and then sat down on the couch with Mahaçveta, and the attendants quickly brought a stool with gold feet and a covering of white silk, and placed it near the couch, and Candrapida took his seat thereon. To please Mahaçveta, the portresses, knowing Kadambari's wishes, and having by a hand placed on closed lips received an order to stop all sounds, checked on every side the sound of pipe, lute and song, and the Magadha women's cry of 'All hail!' (370) When the servants had quickly brought water, Kadambari herself washed Mahaçveta's feet, and, drying them with her robe, sat on the couch again; and Madalekha, a friend worthy of Kadambari, dear as her own life and the home of all her confidence, insisted on washing Candrapida's feet, unwilling though he were. Mahaçveta meanwhile asked Kadambari how she was, and lovingly touched with her hand the corner of her friend's eyes, which shone with the reflected light of her earrings; she lifted the flowers in Kadambari's ear, all covered with bees, and softly stroked the coils of her hair, roughened by the wind of the cowries. And Kadambari, ashamed, from love to her friend, of her own well-being, as though feeling that in still dwelling at home she had committed a crime, said with an effort that all was well with her. Then, though filled with grief and intent on gazing at Mahaçveta's face, yet her eye, with its pupil dark and quivering as it looked out sideways, was, under the influence of love, with bow fully bent, irresistibly drawn by Candrapida's face, and she could not turn it away. At that same moment she felt jealousy [298] of his being pictured on the cheek of her friend standing near--the pain of absence as his reflection faded away on her own breast, pierced by a thrill--the anger of a rival wife as the image of the statues fell on him--the sorrow of despair as he closed his eyes, and blindness as his image was veiled by tears of joy. (371) '"At the end of a moment Mahaçveta said to Kadambari as she was intent on giving betel: 'Dear Kadambari, the moment has approached for us to show honour to our newly arrived guest, Candrapida. Therefore give him some.' But averting her bent face, Kadambari replied slowly and indistinctly, 'Dear friend, I am ashamed to do so, for I do not know him. Do thou take it, for thou canst without the forwardness there would be in me, and give it him'; and it was only after many persuasions, that with difficulty, and like a village maiden, she resolved to give it. Her eyes were never drawn from Mahaçveta's face, her limbs trembled, her glance wavered, she sighed deeply, she was stunned by Love with his shaft, and she seemed a prey to terror as she stretched forth her hand, holding the betel as if trying to cling to something under the idea she was falling. The hand Candrapida stretched out, by nature pink, as if red lead had fallen upon it from the flapping of his triumphal elephant, was darkened by the scars of the bowstring, and seemed to have drops of collyrium clinging to it from touching the eyes of his enemies' Lakshmi, weeping as he drew her by the hair; (372) its fingers by the forth-flashing rays of his nails seemed to run up hastily, to grow long and to laugh, and the hand seemed to raise five other fingers in the five senses that, in desire to touch her, had just made their entry full of love. Then contending feelings [299] took possession of Kadambari as if they had gathered together in curiosity to see the grace at that moment so easy of access. Her hand, as she did not look whither it was going, was stretched vainly forth, and the rays of its nails seemed to hasten forward to seek Candrapida's hand; and with the murmur of the line of bracelets stirred by her trembling, it seemed to say, as drops of moisture arose on it, 'Let this slave offered by Love be accepted,' [300] as if she were offering herself, and 'Henceforth it is in thy hand,' as if she were making it into a living being, and so she gave the betel. And in drawing back her hand she did not notice the fall of her bracelet, which had slipped down her arm in eagerness to touch him, like her heart pierced by Love's shaft; and taking another piece of betel, she gave it to Mahaçveta. (373) '"Then there came up with hasty steps a maina, a very flower, in that her feet were yellow as lotus filaments, her beak was like a campak bud, and her wings blue as a lotus petal. Close behind her came a parrot, slow in gait, emerald-winged, with a beak like coral and neck bearing a curved, three-rayed rainbow. Angrily the maina began: 'Princess Kadambari, why dost thou not restrain this wretched, ill-mannered, conceited bird from following me? If thou overlookest my being oppressed by him, I will certainly destroy myself. I swear it truly by thy lotus feet.' At these words Kadambari smiled; but Mahaçveta, not knowing the story, asked Madalekha what she was saying, and she told the following tale: 'This maina, Kalindi, is a friend of Princess Kadambari, and was given by her solemnly in marriage to Parihasa, the parrot. And to-day, ever since she saw him reciting something at early dawn to Kadambari's betel-bearer, Tamalika, alone, she has been filled with jealousy, and in frowardness of wrath will not go near him, or speak, or touch, or look at him; and though we have all tried to soothe her, she will not be soothed.' (374) Thereat a smile spread over Candrapida's face, and he softly laughed and said, 'This is the course of gossip. It is heard in the court; by a succession of ears the attendants pass it on; the outside world repeats it; the tale wanders to the ends of the earth, and we too hear how this parrot Parihasa has fallen in love with Princess Kadambari's betel-bearer, and, enslaved by love, knows nothing of the past. Away with this ill-behaved, shameless deserter of his wife, and away with her too! But is it fitting in the Princess not to restrain her giddy slave? Perhaps her cruelty, however, was shown at the first in giving poor Kalindi to this ill-conducted bird. What can she do now? For women feel that a shared wifehood is the bitterest matter for indignation, the chief cause for estrangement, and the greatest possible insult. Kalindi has been only too patient that in the aversion caused by this weight of grief she has not slain herself by poison, fire, or famine. For nothing makes a woman more despised; and if, after such a crime, she is willing to be reconciled and to live with him again, shame on her! enough of her! let her be banished and cast out in scorn! Who will speak to her or look at her again, and who will mention her name?' A laugh arose among Kadambari's women as they heard [301] his mirthful words. (375) But Parihasa, hearing his jesting speech, said: 'Cunning Prince, she is clever. Unsteady as she is, she is not to be taken in by thee or anyone else. She knows all these crooked speeches. She understands a jest. Her mind is sharpened by contact with a court. Cease thy jests. She is no subject for the talk of bold men. For, soft of speech as she is, she knows well the time, cause, measure, object, and topic for wrath and for peace.' Meanwhile, a herald came up and said to Mahaçveta: 'Princess, King Citraratha and Queen Madira send to see thee,' and she, eager to go, asked Kadambari, 'Friend, where should Candrapida stay?' The latter, inwardly smiling at the thought that he had already found a place in the heart of thousands of women, said aloud, 'Dear Mahaçveta, why speak thus? Since I beheld him I have not been mistress of myself, far less than of my palace and my servants. Let him stay wherever it pleases him and my dear friend's heart.' Thereon Mahaçveta replied, "Let him stay in the jewelled house on the playing hill of the royal garden near thy palace,' and went to see the king. (376) '"Candrapida went away at her departure, followed by maidens, sent for his amusement by the portress at Kadambari's bidding, players on lute and pipe, singers, skilful dice and draught players, practised painters and reciters of graceful verses; he was led by his old acquaintance Keyuraka to the jewelled hall on the playing hill. '"When he was gone the Gandharva princess dismissed her girl-friends and attendants, and followed only by a few, went into the palace. There she fell on her couch, while her maidens stayed some way off, full of respect, and tried to comfort her. At length she came to herself, and remaining alone, she was filled with shame. For Modesty censured her: 'Light one, what hast thou begun?' Self-respect reproached her: 'Gandharva Princess, how is this fitting for thee?' Simplicity mocked her: 'Where has thy childhood gone before its day was over?' Youth warned her: 'Wilful girl, do not carry out alone any wild plan of thine own!' Dignity rebuked her: 'Timid child, this is not the course of a high-born maiden.' Conduct blamed her: 'Reckless girl, avoid this unseemly behaviour!' High Birth admonished her: 'Foolish one, love hath led thee into lightness.' Steadfastness cried shame on her: 'Whence comes thine unsteadiness of nature?' Nobility rebuked her: 'Self-willed, my authority is set at nought by thee.' (377) '"And she thought within herself, 'What shameful conduct is this of mine, in that I cast away all fear, and show my unsteadiness and am blinded by folly. In my audacity I never thought he was a stranger; in my shamelessness I did not consider that he would think me light of nature; I never examined his character; I never thought in my folly if I were worthy of his regard; I had no dread of an unexpected rebuff; I had no fear of my parents, no anxiety about gossip. Nay, more, I did not in my unkindness [302] remember that Mahaçveta was in sorrow; in my stupidity I did not notice that my friends stood by and beheld me; in my utter dullness I did not see that my servants behind were observing me. Even grave minds would mark such utter forgetfulness of seemliness; how much more Mahaçveta, who knows the course of love; and my friends skilled in all its ways, and my attendants who know all its symptoms, and whose wits are sharpened by life at court. The slaves of a zenana have keen eyes in such matters. My evil fate has undone me! Better were it for me now to die than live a shameful life. What will my father and mother and the Gandharvas say when they hear this tale? What can I do? What remedy is there? How can I cover this error? To whom can I tell this folly of my undisciplined senses, (378) and where shall I go, consumed by Kama, the five-arrowed god? I had made a promise in Mahaçveta's sorrow, I had announced it before my friends, I had sent a message of it by the hands of Keyuraka, and how it has now come about that that beguiling Candrapida has been brought hither, I know not, ill-fated that I am; whether it be by cruel fate or proud love, or nemesis of my former deeds, or accursed death, or anything else. But some power unseen, unknown, unheard of, unthought of and unimagined before, has come to delude me. At the mere sight of him I am a captive in bonds; I am cast into a cage and handed over by my senses; I am enslaved and led to him by Love; I am sent away by affection; I am sold at a price by my feelings; I am made as a household chattel by my heart. I will have nothing to do with this worthless one!' Thus for a moment she resolved. But having made this resolve, she was mocked by Candrapida's image stirred by the trembling of her heart, 'If thou, in thy false reserve, will have nought to do with me, I will go.' She was asked by her life, which clung to her in a farewell embrace before starting at the moment of her determination to give up Candrapida; (379) she was addressed by a tear that rose at that moment, 'Let him be seen once more with clearer eyes, whether he be worthy of rejection or no'; she was chidden by Love, saying, 'I will take away thy pride together with thy life;' and so her heart was again turned to Candrapida. Overwhelmed, when the force of her meditation had collapsed, by the access of love, she rose, under its sway, and stood looking through the window at the playing hill. And there, as if bewildered by a veil of joyful tears, she saw with her memory, not her eyes; as if fearing to soil with a hot hand her picture, she painted with her fancy, not with her brush; dreading the intervention of a thrill, she offered an embrace with her heart, not her breast; unable to bear his delay in coming, she sent her mind, not her servants, to meet him. '"Meanwhile, Candrapida willingly entered the jewelled house, as if it were a second heart of Kadambari. On the rock was strewn a blanket, with pillows piled on it at either end, and thereon he lay down, with his feet in Keyuraka's lap, while the maidens sat round him in the places appointed for them. With a heart in turmoil he betook himself to reflection: 'Are these graces of Princess Kadambari, that steal all men's hearts, innate in her, or has Love, with kindness won by no service of mine, ordained them for me? (380) For she gave me a sidelong glance with loving, reddened eyes half curved as if they were covered with the pollen of Love's flowery darts as they fell on her heart. She modestly veiled herself with a bright smile fair as silk as I looked at her. She offered the mirror of her cheek to receive my image, as in shame at my gaze she averted her face. She sketched on the couch with her nail the first trace of wilfulness of a heart that was giving me entrance. Her hand, moist with the fatigue of bringing me the betel, seemed in its trembling to fan her hot face, as if it were a tamala branch she had taken, for a swarm of bees hovered round it, mistaking it for a rosy lotus. Perhaps,' he went on to reflect, 'the light readiness to hope so common among mortals is now deceiving me with a throng of vain desires; and the glow of youth, devoid of judgment, or Love himself, makes my brain reel; whence the eyes of the young, as though struck by cataract, magnify even a small spot; and a tiny speck of affection is spread far by youthful ardour as by water. An excited heart like a poet's imagination is bewildered by the throng of fancies that it calls up of itself, and draws likenesses from everything; youthful feelings in the hand of cunning love are as a brush, and shrink from painting nothing; and imagination, proud of her suddenly gained beauty, turns in every direction. (381) Longing shows as in a dream what I have felt. Hope, like a conjuror's wand, [303] sets before us what can never be. Why, then,' thought he again, 'should I thus weary my mind in vain? If this bright-eyed maiden is indeed thus inclined towards me, Love, who is so kind without my asking, will ere long make it plain to me. He will be the decider of this doubt.' Having at length come to this decision, he rose, then sat down, and merrily joined the damsels in gentle talk and graceful amusements--with dice, song, lute, tabor, concerts of mingled sound, and murmur of tender verse. After resting a short time he went out to see the park, and climbed to the top of the pleasure hill. '"Kadambari saw him, and bade that the window should be opened to watch for Mahaçveta's return, saying, 'She tarries long,' and, with a heart tossed by Love, mounted to the roof of the palace. There she stayed with a few attendants, protected from the heat by a gold-handled umbrella, white as the full moon, and fanned by the waving of four yaks' tails pure as foam. She seemed to be practising an adornment fit for going to meet [304] Candrapida, by means of the bees which hovered round her head, eager for the scent of the flowers, which veiled her even by day in darkness. Now she leaned on the point of the cowrie, now on the stick of the umbrella; now she laid her hands on Tamalika's shoulder, (382), now she clung to Madalekha; now she hid herself amidst her maidens, looking with sidelong glance; now she turned herself round; now she laid her cheek on the tip of the portress's staff; now with a steady hand she placed betel on her fresh lips; now she laughingly ran a few steps in pursuit of her maidens scattered by the blows of the lotuses she threw at them. And in looking at the prince, and being gazed at by him, she knew not how long a time had passed. At last a portress announced Mahaçveta's return, and she went down, and albeit unwilling, yet to please Mahaçveta she bathed and performed the wonted duties of the day. '"But Candrapida went down, and dismissing Kadambari's followers, performed the rites of bathing, and worshipped the deity honoured throughout the mountain, and did all the duties of the day, including his meal, on the pleasure hill. There he sat on an emerald seat which commanded the front of the pleasure hill, pleasant, green as a pigeon, bedewed with foam from the chewing of fawns, shining like Yamuna's waters standing still in fear of Balarama's plough, glowing crimson with lac-juice from the girls' feet, sanded with flower-dust, hidden in a bower, a concert-house of peacocks. He suddenly beheld day eclipsed by a stream of white radiance, rich in glory, (383) light drunk up as by a garland of lotus-fibres, earth flooded as by a Milky Ocean, space bedewed as by a storm of sandal-juice, and the sky painted as with white chunam. '"'What!' thought he, 'is our lord, the Moon, king of plants, suddenly risen, or are a thousand shower-baths set going with their white streams let loose by a spring, or is it the heavenly Ganges, whitening the earth with her wind-tossed spray, that has come down to earth in curiosity?' [305]'"Then, turning his eyes in the direction of the light, he beheld Kadambari, and with her Madalekha and Taralika bearing a pearl necklace on a tray covered with white silk. (384) Thereupon Candrapida decided that it was this necklace that eclipsed [306] moonlight, and was the cause of the brightness, and by rising while she was yet far off, and by all wonted courtesies, he greeted the approach of Madalekha. For a moment she rested on that emerald seat, and then, rising, anointed him with sandal perfume, put on him two white robes, (385) crowned him with malati flowers, and then gave him the necklace, saying, 'This thy gentleness, my Prince, so devoid of pride, must needs subjugate every heart. Thy kindness gives an opening even to one like me; by thy form thou art lord of life to all; by that tenderness shown even where there is no claim on thee, thou throwest on all a bond of love; the innate sweetness of thy bearing makes every man thy friend; these thy virtues, manifested with such natural gentleness, give confidence to all. Thy form must take the blame, for it inspires trust even at first sight; else words addressed to one of such dignity as thou would seem all unmeet. For to speak with thee would be an insult; our very respect would bring on us the charge of forwardness; our very praise would display our boldness; our subservience would manifest lightness, our love self-deception, our speech to thee audacity, our service impertinence, our gift an insult. Nay, more, thou hast conquered our hearts; what is left for us to give thee? Thou art lord of our life; what can we offer thee? Thou hast already bestowed the great favour of thy presence; what return could we make? Thou by thy sight hast made our life worth having; how can we reward thy coming? (386) Therefore Kadambari with this excuse shows her affection rather than her dignity. Noble hearts admit no question of mine and thine. Away with the thought of dignity. Even if she accepted slavery to one like thee, she would do no unworthy act; even if she gave herself to thee, she would not be deceived; if she gave her life, she would not repent. The generosity of a noble heart is always bent on kindness, and does not willingly reject affection, and askers are less shamefaced than givers. But it is true that Kadambari knows she has offended thee in this matter. Now, this necklace, called Çesha, [307] because it was the only jewel left of all that rose at the churning of nectar, was for that reason greatly valued by the Lord of Ocean, and was given by him to Varuna on his return home. By the latter it was given to the Gandharva king, and by him to Kadambari. And she, thinking thy form worthy of this ornament, in that not the earth, but the sky, is the home of the moon, hath sent it to thee. And though men like thee, who bear no ornament but a noble spirit, find it irksome to wear the gems honoured by meaner men, yet here Kadambari's affection is a reason for thee to do so. (387) Did not Vishnu show his reverence by wearing on his breast the kaustubha gem, because it rose with Lakshmi; and yet he was not greater than thee, nor did the kaustubha gem in the least surpass the Çesha in worth; nor, indeed, does Lakshmi approach in the slightest degree to imitating Kadambari's beauty. And in truth, if her love is crushed by thee, she will grieve Mahaçveta [308] with a thousand reproaches, and will slay herself. Mahaçveta therefore sends Taralika with the necklace to thee, and bids me say thus: "Let not Kadambari's first impulse of love be crushed by thee, even in thought, most noble prince."' Thus having said, she fastened on his breast the necklace that rested like a bevy of stars on the slope of the golden mountain. Filled with amazement, Candrapida replied: 'What means this, Madalekha? Thou art clever, and knowest how to win acceptance for thy gifts. By leaving me no chance of a reply, thou hast shown skill in oratory. Nay, foolish maiden, what are we in respect of thee, or of acceptance and refusal; truly this talk is nought. Having received kindness from ladies so rich in courtesy, let me be employed in any matter, whether pleasing or displeasing to me. But truly there lives not the man whom the virtues of the most courteous lady Kadambari do not discourteously [309] enslave.' (388) Thus saying, after some talk about Kadambari, he dismissed Madalekha, and ere she had long gone the daughter of Citraratha dismissed her attendants, rejected the insignia of wand, umbrella, and cowrie, and accompanied only by Tamalika, again mounted to the roof of her palace to behold Candrapida, bright with pearls, silk raiment and sandal, go to the pleasure hill, like the moon to the mount of rising. There, with passionate glances imbued with every grace, she stole his heart. (390) And when it became too dark to see, she descended from the roof, and Candrapida, from the slope of the hill. '"Then the moon, source of nectar, gladdener of all eyes, arose with his rays gathered in; he seemed to be worshipped by the night-lotuses, to calm the quarters whose faces were dark as if with anger, and to avoid the day-lotuses as if from fear of waking them; under the guise of his mark he wore night on his heart; he bore in the glow of rising the lac that had clung to him from the spurning of Rohini's feet; he pursued the sky, in its dark blue veil, like a mistress; and by reason of his great goodwill, spread beauty everywhere. '"And when the moon, the umbrella of the supreme rule of Kama, the lord of the lotuses, the ivory earring that decks the night, had risen, and when the world was turned to whiteness, as though overlaid with ivory, Candrapida lay down on a cool moonlit slab, pearl white, pointed out by Kadambari's servants. It was washed with fresh sandal, garlanded with pure sinduvara flowers, and carved round with a leafy tracery of lotus petals. It lay on the shore of a palace lotus tank, that seemed from the full moonlight to be made of night-lotuses, [310] with steps white with bricks washed by the waves, as it wafted a breeze fanned by the ripples; (391) pairs of hamsas lay there asleep, and pairs of cakravakas kept up their dirge of separation thereon. And while the Prince yet rested there Keyuraka approached him, and told him that Princess Kadambari had come to see him. Then Candrapida rose hastily, and beheld Kadambari drawing near. Few of her friends were with her; all her royal insignia were removed; she was as it were a new self, in the single necklace she wore; her slender form was white with the purest sandal-juice; an earring hung from one ear; she wore a lotus-petal in the ear, soft as a budding digit of the moon; she was clad in robes of the kalpa-tree, [311] clear as moonlight; and in the garb that consorted with that hour she stood revealed like the very goddess of moonrise, as she rested on the hand offered by Madalekha. Drawing near, she showed a grace prompted by love, and took her seat on the ground, where servants are wont to sit, like a maiden of low degree; and Candrapida, too, though often entreated by Madalekha to sit on the rocky seat, took his place on the ground by Madalekha; and when all the women were seated he made an effort to speak, saying, 'Princess, to one who is thy slave, and whom even a glance gladdens, there needs not the favour of speech with thee, far less so great a grace as this. (392) For, deeply as I think, I cannot see in myself any worth that this height of favour may befit. Most noble and sweet in its laying aside of pride is this thy courtesy, in that such grace is shown to one but newly thy servant. Perchance thou thinkest me a churl that must be won by gifts. Blessed, truly, is the servant over whom is thy sway! How great honour is bestowed on the servants deemed worthy of the bestowal of thy commands. But the body is a gift at the service of any man, and life is light as grass, so that I am ashamed in my devotion to greet thy coming with such a gift. Here am I, here my body, my life, my senses! Do thou, by accepting one of them, raise it to honour.' '"Madalekha smilingly replied to this speech of his: 'Enough, Prince. My friend Kadambari is pained by thy too great ceremony. Why speakest thou thus? She accepts thy words without further talk. And why, too, is she brought to suspense by these too flattering speeches?' and then, waiting a short time, she began afresh: 'How is King Tarapida, how Queen Vilasavati, how the noble Çukanasa? What is Ujjayini like, and how far off is it? What is the land of Bharata? And is the world of mortals pleasant?' So she questioned him. (393) After spending some time in such talk, Kadambari rose, and summoning Keyuraka, who was lying near Candrapida, and her attendants, she went up to her sleeping-chamber. There she adorned a couch strewn with a coverlet of white silk. Candrapida, however, on his rock passed the night like a moment in thinking, while his feet were rubbed by Keyuraka, of the humility, beauty, and depth of Kadambari's character, the causeless kindness of Mahaçveta, the courtesy of Madalekha, the dignity of the attendants, the great splendour of the Gandharva world, and the charm of the Kimpurusha land. '"Then the moon, lord of stars, weary of being kept awake by the sight of Kadambari, descended, as if to sleep, to the forest on the shore, with its palms and tamalas, talis, banyans, and kandalas, [312] cool with the breeze from the hardly stirred [313] ripples. As though with the feverish sighs of a woman grieving for her lover's approaching absence, the moonlight faded away. Lakshmi, having passed the night on the moon lotuses, lay on the sun lotuses, as though love had sprung up in her at the sight of Candrapida. At the close of night, when the palace lamps grew pale, as if dwindling in longing as they remembered the blows of the lotuses in maidens' ears, the breezes of dawn, fragrant with creeper-flowers, were wafted, sportive with the sighs of Love weary from ceaselessly discharging his shafts; the stars were eclipsed by the rising dawn, and took their abode, as through fear, in the thick creeper bowers of Mount Mandara. [314] (394) Then when the sun arose, with its orb crimson as if a glow remained from dwelling in the hearts of the cakravakas, Candrapida, rising from the rock, bathed his lotus face, said his morning prayer, took his betel, and then bade Keyuraka see whether Princess Kadambari was awake or no, and where she was; and when it was announced to him by the latter on his return that she was with Mahaçveta in the bower of the courtyard below the Mandara palace, he started to see the daughter of the Gandharva king. There he beheld Mahaçveta surrounded by wandering ascetic women like visible goddesses of prayer, with marks of white ash on their brow, and hands quickly moving as they turned their rosaries; bearing the vow of Çiva's followers, clad in robes tawny with mineral dyes, bound to wear red cloth, robed in the ruddy bark of ripe cocoanuts, or girdled with thick white cloth; with fans of white cloth; with staves, matted locks, deer-skins, and bark dresses; with the marks of male ascetics; reciting the pure praises of Çiva, Durga, Kartikeya, Viçravasa, [315] Krishna, Avalokiteçvara, the Arhat, Viriñca. [316] Mahaçveta herself was showing honour to the elder kinswomen of the king, the foremost of the zenana, by salutes, courteous speeches, by rising to meet them and placing reed seats for them. (395) '"He beheld Kadambari also giving her attention to the recitation of the Mahabharata, that transcends all good omens, by Narada's sweet-voiced daughter, with an accompaniment of flutes soft as the murmur of bees, played by a pair of Kinnaras sitting behind her. She was looking in a mirror fixed before her at her lip, pale as beeswax when the honey is gone, bathed in the moonlight of her teeth, though within it was darkened by betel. She was being honoured by a sunwise turn in departing by a tame goose wandering like the moon in a fixed circle, with wide eyes raised to her sirisha earrings in its longing for vallisneria. Here the prince approached, and, saluting her, sat down on a seat placed on the dais. After a short stay he looked at Mahaçveta's face with a gentle smile that dimpled his cheek, and she, at once knowing his wish, said to Kadambari: 'Dear friend, Candrapida is softened by thy virtues as the moonstone by the moon, and cannot speak for himself. He wishes to depart; for the court he has left behind is thrown into distress, not knowing what has happened. Moreover, however far apart you may be from each other, this your love, like that of the sun and the day lotus, or the moon and the night lotus, will last till the day of doom. Therefore let him go.' (396) '"'Dear Mahaçveta,' replied Kadambari, 'I and my retinue belong as wholly to the prince as his own soul. Why, then, this ceremony?' So saying, and summoning the Gandharva princes, she bade them escort the prince to his own place, and he, rising, bowed before Mahaçveta first, and then Kadambari, and was greeted by her with eyes and heart softened by affection; and with the words, 'Lady, what shall I say? For men distrust the multitude of words. Let me be remembered in the talk of thy retinue,' he went out of the zenana; and all the maidens but Kadambari, drawn by reverence for Candrapida's virtues, followed him on his way like his subjects to the outer gate. '"On their return, he mounted the steed brought by Keyuraka, and, escorted by the Gandharva princes, turned to leave Hemakuta. His whole thoughts on the way were about Kadambari in all things both within and without. With a mind wholly imbued with her, he beheld her behind him, dwelling within him in his bitter grief for the cruel separation; or before him, stopping him in his path; or cast on the sky, as if by the force of longing in his heart troubled by parting, so that he could perfectly see her face; he beheld her very self resting on his heart, as if her mind were wounded with his loss. When he reached Mahaçveta's hermitage, he there beheld his own camp, which had followed the tracks of Indrayudha. (397) '"Dismissing the Gandharva princes, he entered his own abode amidst the salutations of his troops full of joy, curiosity, and wonder; and after greeting the rest of the court, he spent the day mostly in talk with Vaiçampayana and Patralekha, saying, 'Thus said Mahaçveta, thus Kadambari, thus Madalekha, thus Tamalika, thus Keyuraka.' No longer did royal Glory, envious at the sight of Kadambari's beauty, find in him her joy; for him night passed in wakefulness as he thought, with a mind in ceaseless longing, of that bright-eyed maiden. Next morning, at sunrise, he went to his pavilion with his mind still fixed on her, and suddenly saw Keyuraka entering with a doorkeeper; and as the latter, while yet far off, cast himself on the ground, so that his crest swept the floor, Candrapida cried, 'Come, come,' greeting him first with a sidelong glance, then with his heart, then with a thrill. Then at last he hastened forward to give him a hearty and frank embrace, and made him sit down by himself. Then, in words brightened by the nectar of a smile, and transfused with overflowing love, he reverently asked: 'Say, Keyuraka, is the lady Kadambari well, and her friends, and her retinue, and the lady Mahaçveta?' With a low bow, Keyuraka, as though he had been bathed, anointed, and refreshed by the smile that the prince's deep affection had prompted, replied respectfully: '"'She is now well, in that my lord asks for her.' And then he showed a folded lotus-leaf, wrapped in wet cloth, with its opening closed by lotus filaments, and a seal of tender lotus filaments set in a paste of wet sandal. (398) This he opened, and showed the tokens sent by Kadambari, such as milky betel-nuts of emerald hue, with their shells removed and surrounded with fresh sprays, betel-leaves pale as the cheek of a hen-parrot, camphor like a solid piece of Çiva's moon, and sandal ointment pleasant with rich musk scent. 'The lady Kadambari,' said he, 'salutes thee with folded hands that kiss her crest, and that are rosy with the rays of her tender fingers; Mahaçveta with a greeting and embrace; Madalekha with a reverence and a brow bathed in the moonlight of the crest-gem she has let fall; the maidens with the points of the fish-ornaments and the parting of their hair resting on the ground; and Taralika, with a prostration to touch the dust of thy feet. Mahaçveta sends thee this message: "Happy truly are they from whose eyes thou art never absent. For in truth thy virtues, snowy, cold as the moon when thou art by, in thine absence burn like sunlight. Truly all yearn for the past day as though it were that day whereon fate with such toil brought forth amrita. Without thee the royal Gandharva city is languid as at the end of a feast. (399) Thou knowest that I have surrendered all things; yet my heart, in my despite, desires to see thee who art so undeservedly kind. Kadambari, moreover, is far from well. She recalls thee with thy smiling face like Love himself. Thou, by the honour of thy return, canst make her proud of having some virtues of her own. For respect shown by the noble must needs confer honour. And thou must forgive the trouble of knowing such as we. For thine own nobility gives this boldness to our address. And here is this Çesha necklace, which was left by thee on thy couch."' So saying, he loosed it from his band, where it was visible by reason of the long rays that shot through the interstices of the fine thread, and placed it in the fan-bearer's hand. '"'This, indeed, is the reward of doing homage at Mahaçveta's feet, that the lady Kadambari should lay so great a weight of honour on her slave as to remember him," said Candrapida, as he placed all on his head [317] and accepted it. The necklace he put round his neck, after anointing it with an ointment cool, pleasant, and fragrant, as it were with the beauty of Kadambari's cheeks distilled, or the light of her smile liquefied, or her heart melted, or her virtues throbbing forth. (400) Taking some betel, he rose and stood, with his left arm on Keyuraka's shoulder, and then dismissed the courtiers, who were gladly paying their wonted homage, and at length went to see his elephant Gandhamadana. There he stayed a short time, and after he had himself given to the elephant a handful of grass, that, being jagged with the rays of his nails, was like lotus-fibre, he went to the stable of his favourite steed. On the way he turned his face now on this side, now on that, to glance at his retinue, and the porters, understanding his wish, forbade all to follow him, and dismissed the retinue, so that he entered the stable with Keyuraka alone. The grooms bowed and departed, with eyes bewildered by terror at their dismissal, and the prince set straight Indrayudha's cloth, which had fallen a little on one side, pushed back his mane, tawny as a lion's, which was falling on his eyes and half closing them, and then, negligently resting his foot on the peg of the tethering-rope, and leaning against the stable wall, he eagerly asked: '"'Tell me, Keyuraka, what has happened in the Gandharva court since my departure? In what occupation has the Gandharva princess spent the time? What were Mahaçveta and Madalekha doing? What talk was there? How were you and the retinue employed? And was there any talk about me?' Then Keyuraka told him all: 'Listen, prince. On thy departure, the lady Kadambari, with her retinue, climbed to the palace roof, making in the maidens' palace with the sound of anklets the beat of farewell drums that rose from a thousand hearts; (401) and she gazed on thy path, gray with the dust of the cavalcade. When thou wert out of sight, she laid her face on Mahaçveta's shoulder, and, in her love, sprinkled the region of thy journey with glances fair as the Milky Ocean, and, warding off the sun's touch, as it were, with the moon assuming in jealousy the guise of a white umbrella, she long remained there. Thence she reluctantly tore herself away and came down, and after but a short rest in the pavilion, she arose and went to the pleasaunce where thou hadst been. She was guided by bees murmuring in the flowers of oblation; startled by the cry of the house peacocks, she checked their note as they looked up at the shower-like rays of her nails, by the circlets which lay loose round her throat; at every step she let her hand rest on creeper-twigs white with flowers, and her mind on thy virtues. When she reached the pleasaunce, her retinue needlessly told her: "Here the prince stayed on the spray-washed rock, with its creeper-bower bedewed by the stream from a pipe that ends in an emerald fish-head; here he bathed in a place covered by bees absorbed in the fragrance of the scented water; here he worshipped Çiva on the bank of the mountain stream, sandy with flower-dust; here he ate on a crystal stone which eclipsed moonlight; and here he slept on a pearly slab with a mark of sandal-juice imprinted on it." (402) And so she passed the day, gazing on the signs of thy presence; and at close of day Mahaçveta prepared for her, though against her will, a meal in that crystal dwelling. And when the sun set and the moon rose, soon, as though she were a moonstone that moonlight would melt, and therefore dreaded the entrance of the moon's reflection, she laid her hands on her cheeks, and, as if in thought, remained for a few minutes with closed eyes; and then rising, went to her sleeping-chamber, scarcely raising her feet as they moved with graceful, languid gait, seemingly heavy with bearing the moon's reflection on their bright nails. Throwing herself on her couch, she was racked by a severe headache, and overcome by a burning fever, and, in company with the palace-lamps, the moon-lotuses, and the cakravakas, she passed the night open-eyed in bitter grief. And at dawn she summoned me, and reproachfully bade me seek for tidings of thee.' '"At these words, Candrapida, all eager to depart, shouted: 'A horse! a horse!' and left the palace. Indrayudha was hastily saddled, and brought round by the grooms, and Candrapida mounted, placing Patralekha behind him, leaving Vaiçampayana in charge of the camp, dismissing all his retinue, and followed by Keyuraka on another steed, he went to Hemakuta. (403) On his arrival, he dismounted at the gate of Kadambari's palace, giving his horse to the doorkeeper, and, followed by Patralekha, eager for the first sight of Kadambari, he entered, and asked a eunuch who came forward where the lady Kadambari was. Bending low, the latter informed him, that she was in the ice-bower on the bank of the lotus-tank below the Mattamayura pleasaunce; and then the prince, guided by Keyuraka, went some distance through the women's garden, and beheld day grow green, and the sunbeams turn into grass by the reflection of the plantain-groves with their emerald glow, and there he beheld Kadambari. (410) Then she looked with tremulous glance at her retinue, as, coming in one after another, they announced Candrapida's approach, and asked each by name: 'Tell me, has he really come, and hast thou seen him? How far off is he?' She gazed with eyes gradually brightening as she saw him yet afar off, and rose from her couch of flowers, standing like a newly-caught elephant bound to her post, and trembling in every limb. She was veiled in bees drawn as vassals by the fragrance of her flowery couch, all murmuring; her upper garment was in confusion, and she sought to place on her bosom the shining necklace; (411) she seemed to beg the support of a hand from her own shadow as she laid her left hand on the jewelled pavement; she seemed to receive herself as a gift by sprinkling [318] with her right hand moist with the toil of binding together her falling locks; she poured forth tears of joy cool as though the sandal-juice of her sectarial mark had entered in and been united with them; she washed with a line of glad tears her smooth cheeks, that the pollen from her garland had tinged with gray, as if in eagerness that the image of her beloved might fall thereon; she seemed to be drawn forward by her long eyes fastened on Candrapida's face, with its pupil fixed in a sidelong glance, and her head somewhat bent, as if from the weight of the sandal-mark on her brow. '"And Candrapida, approaching, bowed first before Mahaçveta, then courteously saluted Kadambari, and when she had returned his obeisance, and seated herself again on the couch, and the portress had brought him a gold stool with legs gleaming with gems, he pushed it away with his foot, and sat down on the ground. Then Keyuraka presented Patralekha, saying: 'This is Prince Candrapida's betel-box bearer and most favoured friend.' And Kadambari, looking on her, thought: 'How great partiality does Prajapati bestow on mortal women!' And as Patralekha bowed respectfully, she bade her approach, and placed her close behind herself, amidst the curious glances of all her retinue. (412) Filled even at first sight with great love for her, Kadambari often touched her caressingly with her slender hand. '"Now, Candrapida, having quickly performed all the courtesies of arrival, beheld the state of Citraratha's daughter, and thought: 'Surely my heart is dull, in that it cannot even now believe. Be it so. I will, nevertheless, ask her with a skilfully-devised speech.' [319] Then he said aloud: 'Princess, I know that this pain, with its unceasing torment, has come on thee from love. Yet, slender maiden, it torments thee not as us. I would gladly, by the offering of myself, restore thee to health. For I pity thee as thou tremblest; and as I see thee fallen under the pain of love, my heart, too, falls prostrate. For thine arms are slender and unadorned, and thou bearest in thine eye a red lotus like a hybiscus [320] from the deep wasting of fever. And all thy retinue weep ceaselessly for thy pain. Accept thine ornaments. Take of thine own accord thy richest adornments; for as the creeper shines hidden in bees and flowers, so shouldst thou.' '"Then Kadambari, though naturally simple by reason of her youth, yet, from a knowledge taught by love, understood all the meaning of this darkly-expressed speech. (413) Yet, not realizing that she had come to such a point in her desires, supported by her modesty, she remained silent. She sent forth, however, the radiance of a smile at that moment on some pretext, as though to see his face darkened by the bees which were gathered round its sweetness. Madalekha therefore replied: 'Prince, what shall I say? This pain is cruel beyond words. Moreover, in one of so delicate a nature what does not tend to pain? Even cool lotus-fibres turn to fire and moonlight burns. Seest thou not the pain produced in her mind by the breezes of the fans? Only her strength of mind keeps her alive.' But in heart alone did Kadambari admit Madalekha's words as an answer to the prince. His mind, however, was in suspense from the doubtfulness of her meaning, and after spending some time in affectionate talk with Mahaçveta, at length with a great effort he withdrew himself, and left Kadambari's palace to go to the camp. '"As he was about to mount his horse, Keyuraka came up behind him, and said: 'Prince, Madalekha bids me say that Princess Kadambari, ever since she beheld Patralekha, has been charmed by her, and wishes to keep her. She shall return later. (414) Having heard her message, thou must decide' 'Happy,' replied the prince, 'and enviable is Patralekha, in that she is honoured by so rare a favour by the princess. Let her be taken in.' So saying, he went to the camp. '"At the moment of his arrival he beheld a letter-carrier well known to him, that had come from his father's presence, and, stopping his horse, he asked from afar, with eyes widened by affection: 'Is my father well, and all his retinue? and my mother and all the zenana?' Then the man, approaching with a reverence, saying, 'As thou sayest, prince,' gave him two letters. Then the prince, placing them on his head, and himself opening them in order, read as follows: 'Hail from Ujjayini. King Tarapida, king of kings, whose lotus-feet are made the crest on the head of all kings, greets Candrapida, the home of all good fortune, kissing him on his head, which kisses the circle of the flashing rays of his crest jewels. Our subjects are well. Why has so long a time passed since we have seen thee? Our heart longs eagerly for thee. The queen and the zenana pine for thee. Therefore, let the cutting short of this letter be a cause of thy setting out.' And in the second letter, sent by Çukanasa, he read words of like import. Vaiçampayana, too, at that moment came up, and showed another pair of letters of his own to the same effect. (415) So with the words, 'As my father commands,' he at once mounted his horse, and caused the drum of departure to be sounded. He instructed Meghanada, son of Balahaka, the commander-in-chief, who stood near him surrounded by a large troop: 'Thou must come with Patralekha. Keyuraka will surely bring her as far as here, and by his lips a message must be sent with a salutation to Princess Kadambari. Truly the nature of mortals deserves the blame of the three worlds, for it is discourteous, unfriendly, and hard to grasp, in that, when the loves of men suddenly clash, they do not set its full value on spontaneous tenderness. Thus, by my going, my love has become a cheating counterfeit; my faith has gained skill in false tones; my self-devotion has sunk into base deceit, having only a pretended sweetness; and the variance of voice and thought has been laid bare. But enough of myself. The princess, though a mate for the gods, has, by showing her favour to an unworthy object, [321] incurred reproach. For the ambrosially kind glances of the great, when they fall in vain on unfitting objects, cause shame afterwards. And yet my heart is not so much weighed down by shame for her as for Mahaçveta. For the princess will doubtless often blame her for her ill-placed partiality in having painted my virtues with a false imputation of qualities I did not possess. What, then, shall I do? My parents' command is the weightier. Yet it controls my body alone. (416) But my heart, in its yearning to dwell at Hemakuta, has written a bond of slavery for a thousand births to Princess Kadambari, [322] and her favour holds it fast [323] as the dense thicket holds a forester. Nevertheless, I go at my father's command. Truly from this cause the infamous Candrapida will be a byword to the people. Yet, think not that Candrapida, if he lives, will rest without again tasting the joy of worshipping the lotus-feet of the princess. Salute with bent head and sunwise turn the feet of Mahaçveta. Tell Madalekha that a hearty embrace, preceded by an obeisance, is offered her; salute Tamalika, and inquire on my behalf after all Kadambari's retinue. Let blessed Hemakuta be honoured by me with upraised hands.' After giving this message, he set Vaiçampayana over the camp, instructing his friend to march [324] slowly, without overtasking the army. Then he mounted, accompanied by his cavalry, mostly mounted on young horses, wearing the grace of a forest of spears, breaking up the earth with their hoofs, and shaking Kailasa with their joyful neighing as they set out; and though his heart was empty, in the fresh separation from Kadambari, he asked the letter-carrier who clung to his saddle concerning the way to Ujjayini. (417-426 condensed) '"And on the way he beheld in the forest a red flag, near which was a shrine of Durga, guarded by an old Dravidian hermit, who made his abode thereby. (426) '"Dismounting, he entered, and bent reverently before the goddess, and, bowing again after a sunwise turn, he wandered about, interested in the calm of the place, and beheld on one side the wrathful hermit, howling and shouting at him; and at the sight, tossed as he was by passionate longing in his absence from Kadambari, he could not forbear smiling a moment; but he checked his soldiers, who were laughing and beginning a quarrel with the hermit; and at length, with great difficulty, he calmed him with many a soothing and courteous speech, and asked him about his birthplace, caste, knowledge, wife and children, wealth, age, and the cause of his ascetic vow. On being asked, the latter described himself, and the prince was greatly interested by him as he garrulously described his past heroism, beauty, and wealth, and thus diverted his mind in its soreness of bereavement; and, having become friendly with him, he caused betel to be offered to him. (427) When the sun set, the princes encamped under the trees that chanced [325] to be near; the golden saddles of the steeds were hung on boughs; the steeds showed the exertions they had gone through, from the tossing of their manes dusty with rolling on the earth, and after they had taken some handfuls of grass and been watered, and were refreshed, they were tethered, with the spears dug into the ground before them; the soldiery, wearied [326] with the day's march, appointed a watch, and gladly went to sleep on heaps of leaves near the horses; the encampment was bright as day, for the darkness was drunk up by the light of many a bivouac fire, and Candrapida went to a couch prepared for him by his retinue, and pointed out to him by his porters, in front of the place where Indrayudha was tethered. But the very moment he lay down restlessness seized his heart, and, overcome by pain, he dismissed the princes, and said nothing even to the special favourites who stood behind him. With closed eyes he again and again went in heart to the Kimpurusha land. With fixed thought he recalled Hemakuta. He thought on the spontaneous kindness of Mahaçveta's favours. [327] He constantly longed for the sight of Kadambari as his life's highest fruit. He continually desired the converse of Madalekha, so charming in its absence of pride. He wished to see Tamalika. He looked forward to Keyuraka's coming. He beheld in fancy the winter palace. He often sighed a long, feverish sigh. He bestowed on the Çesha necklace a kindness beyond that for his kin. (428) He thought he saw fortunate Patralekha standing behind him. Thus he passed the night without sleep; and, rising at dawn, he fulfilled the hermit's wish by wealth poured out at his desire, and, sojourning at pleasant spots on the way, in a few days he reached Ujjayini. A thousand hands, like lotuses of offering to a guest raised in reverent salutation, were raised by the citizens in their confusion and joy at his sudden coming, as he then unexpectedly entered the city. The king heard from the retinue [328] hastening to be first to tell him that Candrapida was at the gate, and bewildered by sudden gladness, with steps slow from the weight of joy, he went to meet his son. Like Mandara, he drew to himself as a Milky Ocean his spotless silk mantle that was slipping down; like the kalpa-tree, with its shower of choice pearls, he rained tears of gladness; he was followed by a thousand chiefs that were round him--chiefs with topknots white with age, anointed with sandal, wearing untorn [329] linen robes, bracelets, turbans, crests and wreaths, bearing swords, staves, umbrellas and cowries, making the earth appear rich in Kailasas and Milky Oceans. The prince, seeing his father from afar, dismounted, and touched the ground with a head garlanded by the rays of his crest-jewels. Then his father stretched out his arms, bidding him approach, and embraced him closely; and when he had paid his respects to all the honourable persons who were there, he was led by the king to Vilasavati's palace. (429) His coming was greeted by her and her retinue, and when he had performed all the auspicious ceremonies of arrival, he stayed some time in talk about his expedition of conquest, and then went to see Çukanasa. Having duly stayed there some time, he told him that Vaiçampayana was at the camp and well, and saw Manorama; and then returning, he mechanically [330] performed the ceremonies of bathing, and so forth, in Vilasavati's palace. On the morrow he went to his own palace, and there, with a mind tossed by anxiety, he deemed that not only himself, but his palace and the city, and, indeed, the whole world, was but a void without Kadambari, and so, in his longing to hear news of her, he awaited the return of Patralekha, as though it were a festival, or the winning of a boon, or the time of the rising of amrita. '"A few days later Meghanada came with Patralekha, and led her in; and as she made obeisance from afar, Candrapida smiled affectionately, and, rising reverently, embraced her; for though she was naturally dear to him, she was now yet dearer as having won a fresh splendour from Kadambari's presence. He laid his slender hand on Meghanada's back as he bent before him, and then, sitting down, he said: 'Tell me, Patralekha, is all well with Mahaçveta and Madalekha, and the lady Kadambari? (430) And are all her retinue well, with Tamalika and Keyuraka?' 'Prince,' she replied, 'all is well, as thou sayest. The lady Kadambari, with her friends and retinue, do thee homage by making their raised hands into a wreath for their brows.' At these words the prince dismissed his royal retinue, and went with Patralekha into the palace. Then, with a tortured heart, no longer able from its intense love to overcome his eagerness to hear, he sent his retinue far away and entered the house. With his lotus-feet he pushed away the pair of hamsas that were sleeping happily on the slope beneath a leafy bower that made an emerald banner; and, resting in the midst of a fresh bed of hybiscus, that made a sunshade with its broad, long-stalked leaves, he sat down, and asked: 'Tell me, Patralekha, how thou hast fared. How many days wert thou there? What favour did the princess show thee? What talk was there, and what conversation arose? Who most remembers us, and whose affection is greatest?' [331] Thus questioned, she told him: 'Give thy mind and hear all. When thou wert gone, I returned with Keyuraka, and sat down near the couch of flowers; and there I gladly remained, receiving ever fresh marks of kindness from the princess. What need of words? (431) The whole of that day her eye, her form, her hand, were on mine; her speech dwelt on my name and her heart on my love. On the morrow, leaning on me, she left the winter palace, and, wandering at will, bade her retinue remain behind, and entered the maidens' garden. By a flight of emerald steps, that might have been formed from Jamuna's [332] waves, she ascended to a white summer-house, and in it she stayed some time, leaning against a jewelled pillar, deliberating with her heart, wishing to say something, and gazing on my face with fixed pupil and motionless eyelashes. As she looked she formed her resolve, and, as if longing to enter love's fire, she was bathed in perspiration; whereat a trembling came upon her, so that, shaking in every limb as though fearing to fall, she was seized by despair. '"'But when I, who knew her thoughts, fixed my mind on her, and, fastening my eyes on her face, bade her speak, she seemed to be restrained by her own trembling limbs; with a toe that marked the floor as if for retreat, she seemed to rub out her own image in shame that it should hear her secret; (432) with her lotus foot--its anklets all set jingling by the scratching of the floor--she pushed aside the tame geese; with a strip of silk made into a fan for her hot face, she drove away the bees on her ear-lotuses; to the peacock she gave, like a bribe, a piece of betel broken by her teeth; and gazing often on every side lest a wood-goddess should listen, much as she longed to speak, she was checked in her utterance by shame, and could not speak a word. [333] Her voice, in spite of her greatest efforts, was wholly burnt up by love's fire, borne away by a ceaseless flow of tears, overwhelmed by onrushing griefs, broken by love's falling shafts, banished by invading sighs, restrained by the hundred cares that dwelt in her heart, and drunk by the bees that tasted her breath, so that it could not come forth. In brief, she made a pearl rosary to count her many griefs with the bright tears that fell without touching her cheeks, as with bent head she made the very image of a storm. Then from her shame learnt its full grace; modesty, a transcendant modesty; simplicity, simplicity; courtesy, courtesy; (433) fear, timidity; coquetry, its quintessence; despair, its own nature; and charm, a further charm. And so, when I asked her, "Princess, what means this?" she wiped her reddened eyes, and, holding a garland woven by the flowers of the bower with arms which, soft as lotus-fibres, seemed meant to hold her firmly in the excess of her grief, she raised one eyebrow, as if gazing on the path of death, and sighed a long, fevered sigh. And as, in desire to know the cause of her sorrow, I pressed her to tell me, she seemed to write on the ketaki petals scratched by her nails in her shame, and so deliver her message. She moved her lower lip in eagerness to speak, and seemed to be whispering to the bees who drank her breath, and thus she remained some time with eyes fixed on the ground. '"'At last, often turning her glance to my face, she seemed to purify, with the tears that fell from her brimming eyes, the voice that the smoke of Love's fire had dimmed. And, in the guise of tears, she bound up with the rays of her teeth, flashing in a forced smile, the strange syllables of what she had meant to say, but forgotten in her tremor, and with great difficulty betook herself to speech. "Patralekha," she said to me, "by reason of my great favour for thee, neither father, mother, Mahaçveta, Madalekha, nor life itself is dear to me as thou hast been since I first beheld thee. (434) I know not why my heart has cast off all my friends and trusts in thee alone. To whom else can I complain, or tell my humiliation, or give a share in my woe? When I have shown thee the unbearable burden of my woe, I will die. By my life I swear to thee I am put to shame by even my own heart's knowledge of my story; how much more by another's? How should such as I stain by ill report a race pure as moonbeams, and lose the honour which has descended from my sires, and turn my thoughts on unmaidenly levity, acting thus without my father's will, or my mother's bestowal, or my elders' congratulations, without any announcement, without sending of gifts, or showing of pictures? Timidly, as one unprotected, have I been led to deserve my parents' blame by that overweening Candrapida. Is this, I pray, the conduct of noble men? Is this the fruit of our meeting, that my heart, tender as a lotus filament, is now crushed? For maidens should not be lightly treated by youths; the fire of love is wont to consume first their reserve and then their heart; the arrows of love pierce first their dignity and then their life. Therefore, I bid thee farewell till our meeting in another birth, for none is dearer to me than thou. (435) By carrying out my resolve of death, I shall cleanse my own stain." So saying, she was silent. '"'Not knowing the truth of her tale, I sorrowfully, as if ashamed, afraid, bewildered, and bereft of sense, adjured her, saying: "Princess, I long to hear. Tell me what Prince Candrapida has done. What offence has been committed? By what discourtesy has he vexed that lotus-soft heart of thine, that none should vex? When I have heard this, thou shalt die on my lifeless body." Thus urged, she again began: "I will tell thee; listen carefully. In my dreams that cunning villain comes daily and employs in secret messages a caged parrot and a starling. In my dreams he, bewildered in mind with vain desires, writes in my earrings to appoint meetings. He sends love-letters with their syllables washed away, filled with mad hopes, most sweet, and showing his own state by the lines of tears stained with pigment falling on them. By the glow of his feelings he dyes my feet against my will. In his reckless insolence he prides himself on his own reflection in my nails. (436) In his unwarranted boldness he embraces me against my will in the gardens when I am alone, and almost dead from fear of being caught, as the clinging of my silken skirts to the branches hinders my steps, and my friends the creepers seize and deliver me to him. Naturally crooked, he teaches the very essence of crookedness to a heart by nature simple by the blazonry he paints on my breast. Full of guileful flattery, he fans with his cool breath my cheeks all wet and shining as with a breeze from the waves of my heart's longing. He boldly places the rays of his nails like young barley-sheaves on my ear, though his hand is empty, because its lotus has fallen from his grasp relaxed in weariness. He audaciously draws me by the hair to quaff the sweet wine of his breath, inhaled by him when he watered his favourite bakul-flowers. Mocked by his own folly, he demands on his head the touch of my foot, destined for the palace açoka-tree. [334] In his utter love madness, he says: 'Tell me, Patralekha, how a madman can be rejected?' For he considers refusal a sign of jealousy; he deems abuse a gentle jest; he looks on silence as pettishness; he regards the mention of his faults as a device for thinking of him; he views contempt as the familiarity of love; he esteems the blame of mankind as renown." '"'A sweet joy filled me as I heard her say this, and I thought, (437) "Surely Love has led her far in her feelings for Candrapida. If this indeed be true, he shows in visible form, under the guise of Kadambari, his tender feeling towards the prince, and he is met by the prince's innate and carefully-trained virtues. The quarters gleam with his glory; a rain of pearls is cast by his youth on the waves of the ocean of tenderness; his name is written by his youthful gaiety on the moon; his own fortune is proclaimed by his happy lot; and nectar is showered down by his grace as by the digits of the moon." '"'Moreover, the Malaya wind has at length its season; moonrise has gained its full chance; the luxuriance of spring flowers has won a fitting fruit; the sharpness of wine has mellowed to its full virtue, and the descent of love's era is now clearly manifest on earth. '"'Then I smiled, and said aloud: "If it be so, princess, cease thy wrath. Be appeased. Thou canst not punish the prince for the faults of Kama. These truly are the sports of Love, the god of the Flowery Bow, not of a wanton Candrapida." '"'As I said this, she eagerly asked me: "As for this Kama, whoever he may be, tell me what forms he assumes." '"'"How can he have forms?" replied I. "He is a formless fire. For without flame he creates heat; without smoke he makes tears flow; without the dust of ashes he shows whiteness. Nor is there a being in all the wide universe who is not, or has not been, or will not be, the victim of his shaft. Who is there that fears him not? (438) Even a strong man is pierced by him when he takes in hand his flowery bow. '"'"Moreover, when tender women are possessed by him, they gaze, and the sky is crowded with a thousand images of their beloved. They paint the loved form; the earth is a canvas all too small. They reckon the virtues of their hero; number itself fails them. They listen to talk about their dearest; the Goddess of Speech herself seems all too silent. They muse on the joys of union with him who is their life; and time itself is all too short to their heart." '"'She pondered a moment on this ere she replied: "As thou sayest, Patralekha, Love has led me into tenderness for the prince. For all these signs and more are found in me. Thou art one with my own heart, and I ask thee to tell me what I should now do? I am all unversed in such matters. Moreover, if I were forced to tell my parents, I should be so ashamed that my heart would choose death rather than life." '"'Then again I answered; "Enough, princess! Why this needless talk of death as a necessary condition? [335] Surely, fair maiden, though thou hast not sought to please him, Love has in kindness given thee this boon. Why tell thy parents? Love himself, like a parent, plans for thee; (439) like a mother, he approves thee; like a father, he bestows thee; like a girl friend, he kindles thine affection; like a nurse, he teaches thy tender age the secrets of love. Why should I tell thee of those who have themselves chosen their lords? For were it not so, the ordinance of the svayamvara in our law-books [336] would be meaningless. Be at rest, then, princess. Enough of this talk of death. I conjure thee by touching thy lotus-foot to send me. I am ready to go. I will bring back to thee, princess, thy heart's beloved." '"'When I had said this, she seemed to drink me in with a tender glance; she was confused by an ardour of affection which, though restrained, found a path, and burst through the reserve that Love's shafts had pierced. In her pleasure at my words, she cast off the silken outer robe which clung to her through her weariness, and left it suspended on her thrilling limbs. [337] She loosened the moonbeam necklace on her neck, put there as a noose to hang herself, and entangled in the fish ornaments of her swinging earring. Yet, though her whole soul was in a fever of joy, she supported herself by the modesty which is a maiden's natural dower, and said: "I know thy great love. But how could a woman, tender of nature as a young çirisha-blossom, show such boldness, especially one so young as I? (440) Bold, indeed, are they who themselves send messages, or themselves deliver a message. I, a young maiden, [338] am ashamed to send a bold message. What, indeed, could I say? 'Thou art very dear,' is superfluous. 'Am I dear to thee?' is a senseless question. 'My love for thee is great,' is the speech of the shameless. 'Without thee I cannot live,' is contrary to experience. 'Love conquers me,' is a reproach of my own fault. 'I am given to thee by Love,' is a bold offering of one's self. 'Thou art my captive,' is the daring speech of immodesty. 'Thou must needs come,' is the pride of fortune. 'I will come myself,' is a woman's weakness. 'I am wholly devoted to thee,' is the lightness of obtruded affection. 'I send no message from fear of a rebuff,' is to wake the sleeper. [339] 'Let me be a warning of the sorrow of a service that is despised,' is an excess of tenderness. 'Thou shalt know my love by my death,' is a thought that may not enter the mind."'"' PART II. (441) I hail, for the completion of the difficult toil of this unfinished tale, Uma and Çiva, parents of earth, whose single body, formed from the union of two halves, shows neither point of union nor division. (442) I salute Narayana, creator of all, by whom the man-lion form was manifested happily, showing a face terrible with its tossing mane, and displaying in his hand quoit, sword, club and conch. I do homage to my father, that lord of speech, the creator by whom that story was made that none else could fashion, that noble man whom all honour in every house, and from whom I, in reward of a former life, received my being. (443) When my father rose to the sky, on earth the stream of the story failed with his voice. And I, as I saw its unfinished state was a grief to the good, began it, but from no poetic pride. For that the words flow with such beauty is my father's special gift; a single touch of the ray of the moon, the one source of nectar, suffices to melt the moonstone. As other rivers at their full enter the Ganges, and by being absorbed in it reach the ocean, so my speech is cast by me for the completion of this story on the ocean-flowing stream of my father's eloquence. Reeling under the strong sweetness of Kadambari [340] as one intoxicated, I am bereft of sense, in that I fear not to compose an ending in my own speech devoid of sweetness and colour. (444) The seeds that promise fruit and are destined to flower are forced by the sower with fitting toils; scattered in good ground, they grow to ripeness; but it is the sower's son who gathers them. [341] '"Moreover," Kadambari continued, "if the prince were brought shame itself, put to shame by my weakness, would not allow a sight of him. (446) Fear itself, frightened at the crime of bringing him by force, would not enter his presence. Then all would be over if my friend Patralekha did her utmost from love to me, and yet could not induce him to come, even by falling at his feet, either perchance from his respect for his parents, or devotion to royal duty, or love of his native land, or reluctance towards me. Nay, more. (448) I am that Kadambari whom he saw resting on a couch of flowers in the winter palace, and he is that Candrapida, all ignorant of another's pain, who stayed but two days, and then departed. I had promised Mahaçveta not to marry while she was in trouble, though she besought me not to promise, saying, that Kama often takes our life by love even for one unseen. (449) But this is not my case. For the prince, imaged by fancy, ever presents himself to my sight, and, sleeping or waking, in every place I behold him. Therefore talk not of bringing him." '(450) Thereupon I [342] reflected, "Truly the beloved, as shaped in the imagination, is a great support to women separated from their loves, especially to maidens of noble birth." (451) And I promised Kadambari that I would bring thee, O Prince. (452) Then she, roused by my speech full of thy name, as by a charm to remove poison, suddenly opened her eyes, and said, "I say not that thy going pleases me, Patralekha. (453) It is only when I see thee that I can endure my life; yet if this desire possess thee, do what thou wilt!" So saying, she dismissed me with many presents. 'Then with slightly downcast face Patralekha continued: "The recent kindness of the princess has given me courage, my prince, and I am grieved for her, and so I say to thee, 'Didst thou act worthily of thy tender nature in leaving her in this state?'" 'Thus reproached by Patralekha, and hearing the words of Kadambari, so full of conflicting impulses, the prince became confused; (454) and sharing in Kadambari's feeling, he asked Patralekha with tears, "What am I to do? Love has made me a cause of sorrow to Kadambari, and of reproach to thee. (455) And methinks this was some curse that darkened my mind; else how was my mind deceived when clear signs were given, which would create no doubt even in a dull mind? All this my fault has arisen from a mistake. I will therefore now, by devoting myself to her, even with my life, act so that the princess may know me not to be of so hard a heart." '(456) While he thus spoke a portress hastened in and said: "Prince, Queen Vilasavati sends a message saying, 'I hear from the talk of my attendants that Patralekha, who had stayed behind, has now returned. And I love her equally with thyself. Do thou therefore come, and bring her with thee. The sight of thy lotus face, won by a thousand longings, is rarely given.'" '"How my life now is tossed with doubts!" thought the prince. "My mother is sorrowful if even for a moment she sees me not. (457) My subjects love me; but the Gandharva princess loves me more. Princess Kadambari is worthy of my winning, and my mind is impatient of delay;" so thinking, he went to the queen, and spent the day in a longing of heart hard to bear; (458) while the night he spent thinking of the beauty of Kadambari, which was as a shrine of love. '(459) Thenceforth pleasant talk found no entrance into him. His friends' words seemed harsh to him; the conversation of his kinsmen gave him no delight. (460) His body was dried up by love's fire, but he did not yield up the tenderness of his heart. (461) He despised happiness, but not self-control. 'While he was thus drawn forward by strong love, which had its life resting on the goodness and beauty of Kadambari, and held backwards by his very deep affection for his parents, he beheld one day, when wandering on the banks of the Sipra, a troop of horse approaching. (462) He sent a man to inquire what this might be, and himself crossing the Sipra where the water rose but to his thigh, he awaited his messenger's return in a shrine of Kartikeya. Drawing Patralekha to him, he said, "Look! that horse-man whose face can scarce be descried is Keyuraka!" '(463) He then beheld Keyuraka throw himself from his horse while yet far off, gray with dust from swift riding, while by his changed appearance, his lack of adornment, his despondent face, and his eyes that heralded his inward grief, he announced, even without words, the evil plight of Kadambari. Candrapida lovingly called him as he hastily bowed and drew near, and embraced him. And when he had drawn back and paid his homage, the prince, having gratified his followers by courteous inquiries, looked at him eagerly, and said, "By the sight of thee, Keyuraka, the well-being of the lady Kadambari and her attendants is proclaimed. When thou art rested and at ease, thou shalt tell me the cause of thy coming;" and he took Keyuraka and Patralekha home with him on his elephant. (464) Then he dismissed his followers, and only accompanied by Patralekha, he called Keyuraka to him, and said: "Tell me the message of Kadambari, Madalekha and Mahaçveta." '"What shall I say?" replied Keyuraka; "I have no message from any of these. For when I had entrusted Patralekha to Meghanada, and returned, and had told of thy going to Ujjayini, Mahaçveta looked upwards, sighed a long, hot sigh, and saying sadly, 'It is so then,' returned to her own hermitage to her penance. Kadambari, as though bereft of consciousness, ignorant of Mahaçveta's departure, only opened her eyes after a long time, scornfully bidding me tell Mahaçveta; and asking Madalekha (465) if anyone ever had done, or would do, such a deed as Candrapida, she dismissed her attendants, threw herself on her couch, veiled her head, and spent the day without speaking even to Madalekha, who wholly shared her grief. When early next morning I went to her, she gazed at me long with tearful eyes, as if blaming me. And I, when thus looked at by my sorrowing mistress, deemed myself ordered to go, and so, without telling the princess, I have approached my lord's feet. Therefore vouchsafe to hear attentively the bidding of Keyuraka, whose heart is anxious to save the life of one whose sole refuge is in thee. For, as by thy first coming that virgin [343] forest was stirred as by the fragrant Malaya wind, so when she beheld thee, the joy of the whole world, like the spring, love entered her as though she were a red açoka creeper. (466) But now she endures great torture for thy sake." (466-470) Then Keyuraka told at length all her sufferings, till the prince, overcome by grief, could bear it no longer and swooned. 'Then, awakening from his swoon, he lamented that he was thought too hard of heart to receive a message from Kadambari or her friends, and blamed them for not telling him of her love while he was there. (476) '"Why should there be shame concerning one who is her servant, ever at her feet, that grief should have made its home in one so tender, and my desires be unfulfilled? (477) Now, what can I do when at some days' distance from her. Her body cannot even endure the fall of a flower upon it, while even on adamantine hearts like mine the arrows of love are hard to bear. When I see the unstable works began by cruel Fate, I know not where it will stop. (478) Else where was my approach to the land of the immortals, in my vain hunt for the Kinnaras? where my journey to Hemakuta with Mahaçveta, or my sight of the princess there, or the birth of her love for me, or my father's command, that I could not transgress, for me to return, though my longing was yet unfulfilled? It is by evil destiny that we have been raised high, and then dashed to the ground. Therefore let us do our utmost to console [344] the princess." (479) Then in the evening he asked Keyuraka, "What thinkest thou? Will Kadambari support life till we arrive? (480) Or shall I again behold her face, with its eyes like a timid fawn's?" "Be firm, prince," he replied. "Do thine utmost to go." The prince had himself begun plans for going; but what happiness or what content of heart would there be without his father's leave, and how after his long absence could that be gained? A friend's help was needed here, but Vaiçampayana was away. '(484) But next morning he heard a report that his army had reached Daçapura, and thinking with joy that he was now to receive the favour of Fate, in that Vaiçampayana was now at hand, he joyfully told the news to Keyuraka. (485) "This event," replied the latter, "surely announces thy going. Doubtless thou wilt gain the princess. For when was the moon ever beheld by any without moonlight, or a lotus-pool without a lotus, or a garden without creeper? Yet there must be delay in the arrival of Vaiçampayana, and the settling with him of thy plans. But I have told thee the state of the princess, which admits of no delay. Therefore, my heart, rendered insolent by the grace bestowed by thy affection, desires that favour may be shown me by a command to go at once to announce the joy of my lord's coming." (486) Whereat the prince, with a glance that showed his inward satisfaction, replied: "Who else is there who so well knows time and place, or who else is so sincerely loyal? This, therefore, is a happy thought. Go to support the life of the princess and to prepare for my return. But let Patralekha go forward, too, with thee to the feet of the princess. For she is favoured by the princess." Then he called Meghanada, and bade him escort Patralekha, (487) while he himself would overtake them when he had seen Vaiçampayana. Then he bade Patralekha tell Kadambari that her noble sincerity and native tenderness preserved him, even though far away and burnt by love's fire, (489) and requested her bidding to come. (491) After their departure, he went to ask his father's leave to go to meet Vaiçampayana. The king lovingly received him, and said to Çukanasa: (492) "He has now come to the age for marriage. So, having entered upon the matter with Queen Vilasavati, let some fair maiden be chosen. For a face like my son's is not often to be seen. Let us then gladden ourselves now by the sight of the lotus face of a bride." Çukanasa agreed that as the prince had gained all knowledge, made royal fortune firmly his own, and wed the earth, there remained nothing for him to do but to marry a wife. "How fitly," thought Candrapida, "does my father's plan come for my thoughts of a union with Kadambari! (493) The proverb 'light to one in darkness,' or 'a shower of nectar to a dying man,' is coming true in me. After just seeing Vaiçampayana, I shall win Kadambari." Then the king went to Vilasavati, and playfully reproached her for giving no counsel as to a bride for her son. (494) Meanwhile the prince spent the day in awaiting Vaiçampayana's return. And after spending over two watches of the night sleepless in yearning for him, (495) the energy of his love was redoubled, and he ordered the conch to be sounded for his going. (497) Then he started on the road to Daçapura, and after going some distance he beheld the camp, (501) and rejoiced to think he would now see Vaiçampayana; and going on alone, he asked where his friend was. But weeping women replied: "Why ask? How should he be here?" And in utter bewilderment he hastened to the midst of the camp. (502) There he was recognised, and on his question the chieftains besought him to rest under a tree while they related Vaiçampayana's fate. He was, they said, yet alive, and they told what had happened. (505) "When left by thee, he halted a day, and then gave the order for our march. 'Yet,' said he, 'Lake Acchoda is mentioned in the Purana as very holy. Let us bathe and worship Çiva in the shrine on its bank. For who will ever, even in a dream, behold again this place haunted by the gods?' (506) But beholding a bower on the bank he gazed at it like a brother long lost to sight, as if memories were awakened in him. And when we urged him to depart, he made as though he heard us not; but at last he bade us go, saying that he would not leave that spot. (508) 'Do I not know well' said he, 'all that you urge for my departure? But I have no power over myself, and I am, as it were, nailed to the spot, and cannot go with you.' (510) So at length we left him, and came hither." 'Amazed at this story, which he could not have even in a dream imagined, Candrapida wondered: "What can be the cause of his resolve to leave all and dwell in the woods? I see no fault of my own. He shares everything with me. Has anything been said that could hurt him by my father or Çukanasa?" (517) He at length returned to Ujjayini, thinking that where Vaiçampayana was there was Kadambari also, and resolved to fetch him back. (518) He heard that the king and queen had gone to Çukanasa's house, and followed them thither. (519) There he heard Manorama lamenting the absence of the son without whose sight she could not live, and who had never before, even in his earliest years, shown neglect of her. (520) On his entrance the king thus greeted him: "I know thy great love for him. Yet when I hear thy story my heart suspects some fault of thine." But Çukanasa, his face darkened with grief and impatience, said reproachfully: "If, O king, there is heat in the moon or coolness in fire, then there may be fault in the prince. (521) Men such as Vaiçampayana are portents of destruction, (522) fire without fuel, polished mirrors that present everything the reverse way; (523) for them the base are exalted, wrong is right, and ignorance wisdom. All in them makes for evil, and not for good. Therefore Vaiçampayana has not feared thy wrath, nor thought that his mother's life depends on him, nor that he was born to be a giver of offerings for the continuance of his race. (524) Surely the birth of one so evil and demoniac was but to cause us grief." (525) To this the king replied: "Surely for such as I to admonish thee were for a lamp to give light to fire, or daylight an equal splendour to the sun. Yet the mind of the wisest is made turbid by grief as the Manasa Lake by the rainy season, and then sight is destroyed. Who is there in this world who is not changed by youth? When youth shows itself, love for elders flows away with childhood. (528) My heart grieves when I hear thee speak harshly of Vaiçampayana. Let him be brought hither. Then we can do as is fitting." (529) Çukanasa persisted in blaming his son; but Candrapida implored leave to fetch him home, and Çukanasa at length yielded. (532) Then Candrapida summoned the astrologers, and secretly bade them name the day for his departure, when asked by the king or Çukanasa, so as not to delay his departure. "The conjunction of the planets," they answered him, "is against thy going. (533) Yet a king is the determiner of time. On whatever time thy will is set, that is the time for every matter." Then they announced the morrow as the time for his departure; and he spent that day and night intent on his journey, and deeming that he already beheld Kadambari and Vaiçampayana before him. '(534) And when the time came, Vilasavati bade him farewell in deep sorrow: "I grieved not so for thy first going as I do now. My heart is torn; my body is in torture; my mind is overwhelmed. (535) I know not why my heart so suffers. Stay not long away." He tried to console her, and then went to his father, who received him tenderly, (539) and finally dismissed him, saying: "My desire is that thou shouldst take a wife and receive the burden of royalty, so that I may enter on the path followed by royal sages; but this matter of Vaiçampayana is in the way of it, and I have misgivings that my longing is not to be fulfilled; else how could he have acted in so strange a way? Therefore, though thou must go, my son, return soon, that my heart's desire may not fail." (540) At length he started, and spent day and night on his journey in the thought of his friend and of the Gandharva world. (544) And when he had travelled far the rainy season came on, and all the workings of the storms found their counterpart in his own heart. (548) Yet he paused not on his way, nor did he heed the entreaties of his chieftains to bestow some care on himself, but rode on all day. (549) But a third part of the way remained to traverse when he beheld Meghanada, and, asking him eagerly concerning Vaiçampayana, (550) he learnt that Patralekha, sure that the rains would delay his coming, had sent Meghanada to meet him, and that the latter had not been to the Acchoda lake. (552) With redoubled grief the prince rode to the lake, and bade his followers guard it on all sides, lest Vaiçampayana should in shame flee from them; but all his search found no traces of his friend. (553) "My feet," thought he, "cannot leave this spot without him, and yet Kadambari has not been seen. Perchance Mahaçveta may know about this matter; I will at least see her." So he mounted Indrayudha, and went towards her hermitage. There dismounting, he entered; but in the entrance of the cave he beheld Mahaçveta, with difficulty supported by Taralika, weeping bitterly. (554) "May no ill," thought he, "have befallen Kadambari, that Mahaçveta should be in this state, when my coming should be a cause of joy." Eagerly and sorrowfully he questioned Taralika, but she only gazed on Mahaçveta's face. Then the latter at last spoke falteringly: "What can one so wretched tell thee? Yet the tale shall be told. When I heard from Keyuraka of thy departure, my heart was torn by the thought that the wishes of Kadambari's parents, my own longing, and the sight of Kadambari's happiness in her union with thee had not been brought about, and, cleaving even the bond of my love to her, I returned home to yet harsher penance than before. (555) Here I beheld a young Brahman, like unto thee, gazing hither and thither with vacant glance. But at the sight of me his eyes were fixed on me alone, as if, though unseen before, he recognised me, though a stranger, he had long known me, and gazing at me like one mad or possessed, he said at last: 'Fair maiden, only they who do what is fitting for their birth, age, and form escape blame in this world. Why toilest thou thus, like perverse fate, in so unmeet an employment, in that thou wastest in stern penance a body tender as a garland? (556) The toil of penance is for those who have enjoyed the pleasures of life and have lost its graces, but not for one endowed with beauty. If thou turnest from the joys of earth, in vain does Love bend his bow, or the moon rise. Moonlight and the Malaya wind serve for naught.'" '"But I, caring for nothing since the loss of Pundarika, asked no questions about him, (557) and bade Taralika keep him away, for some evil would surely happen should he return. But in spite of being kept away, whether from the fault of love or the destiny of suffering that lay upon us, he did not give up his affection; and one night, while Taralika slept, and I was thinking of Pundarika, (559) I beheld in the moonlight, clear as day, that youth approaching like one possessed. The utmost fear seized me at the sight. 'An evil thing,' I thought, 'has befallen me. If he draw near, and but touch me with his hand, this accursed life must be destroyed; and then that endurance of it, which I accepted in the hope of again beholding Pundarika, will have been in vain.' While I thus thought he drew near, and said: 'Moon-faced maiden, the moon, Love's ally, is striving to slay me. Therefore I come to ask protection. Save me, who am without refuge, and cannot help myself, for my life is devoted to thee. (560) It is the duty of ascetics to protect those who flee to them for protection. If, then, thou deign not to bestow thyself on me, the moon and love will slay me.' At these words, in a voice choked by wrath, I exclaimed: 'Wretch, how has a thunderbolt failed to strike thy head in the utterance of these thy words? Surely the five elements that give witness of right and wrong to mortals are lacking in thy frame, in that earth and air and fire and the rest have not utterly destroyed thee. Thou hast learnt to speak like a parrot, without thought of what was right or wrong to say. Why wert thou not born as a parrot? (561) I lay on thee this fate, that thou mayest enter on a birth suited to thine own speech, and cease to make love to one such as I.' So saying, I turned towards the moon, and with raised hands prayed: 'Blessed one, lord of all, guardian of the world, if since the sight of Pundarika my heart has been free from the thought of any other man, may this false lover by the truth of this my saying, fall into the existence pronounced by me.' Then straightway, I know not how, whether from the force of love, or of his own sin, or from the power of my words, he fell lifeless, like a tree torn up by the roots. And it was not till he was dead that I learnt from his weeping attendants that he was thy friend, noble prince." Having thus said, she bent her face in shame and silently wept. But Candrapida, with fixed glance and broken voice, replied: "Lady, thou hast done thine utmost, and yet I am too ill-fated to have gained in this life the joy of honouring the feet of the lady Kadambari. Mayest thou in another life create this bliss for me." (562) With these words his tender heart broke, as if from grief at failing to win Kadambari, like a bud ready to open when pierced by a bee. 'Then Taralika burst into laments over his lifeless body and into reproaches to Mahaçveta. And as the chieftains, too, raised their cry of grief and wonder, (564) there entered, with but few followers, Kadambari herself, attired as to meet her lover, though a visit to Mahaçveta was the pretext of her coming, and while she leant on Patralekha's hand, she expressed her doubts of the prince's promised return, (565) and declared that if she again beheld him she would not speak to him, nor be reconciled either by his humility or her friend's endeavours. Such were her words; but she counted all the toil of the journey light in her longing to behold him again. But when she beheld him dead, with a sudden cry she fell to the ground. And when she recovered from her swoon, she gazed at him with fixed eyes and quivering mouth, like a creeper trembling under the blow of a keen axe, and then stood still with a firmness foreign to her woman's nature. (566) Madalekha implored her to give her grief the relief of tears, lest her heart should break, and remember that on her rested the hopes of two races. "Foolish girl," replied Kadambari, with a smile, "how should my adamantine heart break if it has not broken at this sight? These thoughts of family and friends are for one who wills to live, not for me, who have chosen death; for I have won the body of my beloved, which is life to me, and which, whether living or dead, whether by an earthly union, or by my following it in death, suffices to calm every grief. It is for my sake that my lord came hither and lost his life; how, then, could I, by shedding tears, make light of the great honour to which he has raised me? or how bring an ill-omened mourning to his departure to heaven? or how weep at the joyous moment when, like the dust of his feet, I may follow him? Now all sorrow is far away. (567) For him I neglected all other ties; and now, when he is dead, how canst thou ask me to live? In dying now lies my life, and to live would be death to me. Do thou take my place with my parents and my friends, and mayest thou be the mother of a son to offer libations of water for me when I am in another world. Thou must wed the young mango in the courtyard, dear to me as my own child, to the madhavi creeper. Let not a twig of the açoka-tree that my feet have caressed be broken, even to make an earring. Let the flowers of the malati creeper I tended be plucked only to offer to the gods. Let the picture of Kama in my room near my pillow be torn in pieces. The mango-trees I planted must be tended so that they may come to fruit. (568) Set free from the misery of their cage the maina Kalindi and the parrot Parihasa. Let the little mongoose that rested in my lap now rest in thine. Let my child, the fawn Taralaka, be given to a hermitage. Let the partridges on the pleasure-hill that grew up in my hand be kept alive. See that the hamsa that followed my steps be not killed. Let my poor ape be set free, for she is unhappy in the house. Let the pleasure-hill be given to some calm-souled hermit, and let the things I use myself be given to Brahmans. My lute thou must lovingly keep in thine own lap, and anything else that pleases thee must be thine own. But as for me, I will cling to my lord's neck, and so on the funeral pyre allay the fever which the moon, sandal, lotus-fibres, and all cool things have but increased." (569) Then she embraced Mahaçveta, saying: "Thou indeed hast some hope whereby to endure life, even though its pains be worse than death; but I have none, and so I bid thee farewell, dear friend, till we meet in another birth." 'As though she felt the joy of reunion, she honoured the feet of Candrapida with bent head, and placed them in her lap. (570) At her touch a strange bright light arose from Candrapida's body, and straightway a voice was heard in the sky: "Dear Mahaçveta, I will again console thee. The body of thy Pundarika, nourished in my world and by my light, free from death, awaits its reunion with thee. The other body, that of Candrapida, is filled with my light, and so is not subject to death, both from its own nature, and because it is nourished by the touch of Kadambari; it has been deserted by the soul by reason of a curse, like the body of a mystic whose spirit has passed into another form. Let it rest here to console thee and Kadambari till the curse be ended. Let it not be burnt, nor cast into water, nor deserted. It must be kept with all care till its reunion." 'All but Patralekha were astounded at this saying, and fixed their gaze on the sky; but she, recovering, at the cool touch of that light, from the swoon brought on by seeing the death of Candrapida, rose, hastily seizing Indrayudha from his groom, saying: "However it may be for us, thou must not for a moment leave thy master to go alone without a steed on his long journey;" and plunged, together with Indrayudha, into the Acchoda Lake. (571) Straightway there rose from the lake a young ascetic, and approaching Mahaçveta, said mournfully: "Princess of the Gandharvas, knowest thou me, now that I have passed through another birth?" Divided between joy and grief, she paid homage to his feet, and replied: "Blessed Kapiñjala, am I so devoid of virtue that I could forget thee? And yet this thought of me is natural, since I am so strangely ignorant of myself and deluded by madness that when my lord Pundarika is gone to heaven I yet live. (572) Tell me of Pundarika." He then recalled how he had flown into the sky in pursuit of the being who carried off Pundarika, and passing by the wondering gods in their heavenly cars, he had reached the world of the moon. "Then that being," he continued, "placed Pundarika's body on a couch in the hall called Mahodaya, and said: 'Know me to be the moon! (573) When I was rising to help the world I was cursed by thy friend, because my beams were slaying him before he could meet his beloved; and he prayed that I, too, might die in the land of Bharata, the home of all sacred rites, knowing myself the pains of love. But I, wrathful at being cursed for what was his own fault, uttered the curse that he should endure the same lot of joy or sorrow as myself. When, however, my anger passed away, I understood what had happened about Mahaçveta. Now, she is sprung from the race that had its origin in my beams, and she chose him for her lord. Yet he and I must both be born twice in the world of mortals, else the due order of births will not be fulfilled. I have therefore carried the body hither, and I nourish it with my light lest it should perish before the curse is ended, and I have comforted Mahaçveta. (574) Tell the whole matter to Pundarika's father. His spiritual power is great, and he may find a remedy.' And I, rushing away in grief, leapt off another rider in a heavenly chariot, and in wrath he said to me: 'Since in the wide path of heaven thou hast leapt over me like a horse in its wild course, do thou become a horse, and descend into the world of mortals.' To my tearful assurance that I had leapt over him in the blindness of grief, and not from contempt, he replied: 'The curse, once uttered, cannot be recalled. But when thy rider shall die, thou shalt bathe and be freed from the curse.' Then I implored him that as my friend was about to be born with the moon-god, in the world of mortals, I might, as a horse, constantly dwell with him. (575) Softened by my affection, he told me that the moon would be born as a son to King Tarapida at Ujjayini, Pundarika would be the son of his minister, Çukanasa, and that I should be the prince's steed. Straightway I plunged into the ocean, and rose as a horse, but yet lost not consciousness of the past. I it was who purposely brought Candrapida hither in pursuit of the kinnaras. And he who sought thee by reason of the love implanted in a former birth, and was consumed by a curse in thine ignorance, was my friend Pundarika come down to earth." 'Then Mahaçveta beat her breast with a bitter cry, saying: "Thou didst keep thy love for me through another birth, Pundarika; I was all the world to thee; and yet, like a demon, born for thy destruction even in a fresh life, I have received length of years but to slay thee again and again. (576) Even in thee, methinks, coldness must now have sprung up towards one so ill-fated, in that thou answerest not my laments;" and she flung herself on the ground. But Kapiñjala pityingly replied: "Thou art blameless, princess, and joy is at hand. Grieve not, therefore, but pursue the penance undertaken by thee; for to perfect penance naught is impossible, and by the power of thine austerities thou shalt soon be in the arms of my friend." '(577) Then Kadambari asked Kapiñjala what had become of Patralekha when she plunged with him into the tank. But he knew naught of what had happened since then, either to her, or his friend, or Candrapida, and rose to the sky to ask the sage Çvetaketu, Pundarika's father, to whom everything in the three worlds was visible. '(577-578) Then Mahaçveta counselled Kadambari, whose love to her was drawn the closer from the likeness of her sorrow, that she should spend her life in ministering to the body of Candrapida, nothing doubting that while others, to gain good, worshipped shapes of wood and stone that were but images of invisible gods, she ought to worship the present deity, veiled under the name of Candrapida. Laying his body tenderly on a rock, Kadambari put off the adornments with which she had come to meet her lover, keeping but one bracelet as a happy omen. She bathed, put on two white robes, rubbed off the deep stain of betel from her lips, (579) and the very flowers, incense, and unguents she had brought to grace a happy love she now offered to Candrapida in the worship due to a god. That day and night she spent motionless, holding the feet of the prince, and on the morrow she joyfully saw that his brightness was unchanged, (581) and gladdened her friends and the prince's followers by the tidings. (582) The next day she sent Madalekha to console her parents, and they sent back an assurance that they had never thought to see her wed, and that now they rejoiced that she had chosen for her husband the incarnation of the moon-god himself. They hoped, when the curse was over, to behold again her lotus-face in the company of their son-in-law. (583) So comforted, Kadambari remained to tend and worship the prince's body. Now, when the rainy season was over, Meghanada came to Kadambari, and told her that messengers had been sent by Tarapida to ask the cause of the prince's delay, (584) and that he, to spare her grief, had told them the whole story, and bade them hasten to tell all to the king. They, however, had replied that this might doubtless be so; yet, to say nothing of their hereditary love for the prince, the desire to see so great a marvel urged them to ask to be allowed to behold him; their long service deserved the favour; and what would the king say if they failed to see Candrapida's body? (585) Sorrowfully picturing to herself what the grief of Tarapida would be, Kadambari admitted the messengers, (586) and as they tearfully prostrated themselves, she consoled them, saying that this was a cause for joy rather than sorrow. "Ye have seen the prince's face, and his body free from change; therefore hasten to the king's feet. Yet do not spread abroad this story, but say that ye have seen the prince, and that he tarries by the Acchoda Lake. For death must come to all, and is easily believed; but this event, even when seen, can scarce win faith. It profits not now, therefore, by telling this to his parents, to create in them a suspicion of his death; but when he comes to life again, this wondrous tale will become clear to them." (587) But they replied: "Then we must either not return or keep silence. But neither course is possible; nor could we so greet the sorrowing king." She therefore sent Candrapida's servant Tvaritaka with them, to give credit to the story, for the prince's royal retinue had all taken a vow to live there, eating only roots and fruits, and not to return till the prince himself should do so. (589) 'After many days, Queen Vilasavati, in her deep longing for news of her son, went to the temple of the Divine Mothers of Avanti, [345] the guardian goddesses of Ujjayini, to pray for his return; and on a sudden a cry arose from the retinue: "Thou art happy, O Queen! The Mothers have shown favour to thee! Messengers from the prince are at hand." Then she saw the messengers, with the city-folk crowding round them, asking news of the prince, or of sons, brothers, and other kinsfolk among his followers, (591) but receiving no answers. She sent for them to the temple court, and cried: "Tell me quickly of my son. (592) Have ye seen him?" And they, striving to hide their grief, replied: "O Queen, he has been seen by us on the shore of the Acchoda Lake, and Tvaritaka will tell thee the rest." "What more," said she, "can this unhappy man tell me? For your own sorrowful bearing has told the tale. Alas, my child! Wherefore hast thou not returned? When thou didst bid me farewell, I knew by my forebodings that I should not behold thy face again. (593) This all comes from the evil deeds of my former birth. Yet think not, my son, that I will live without thee, for how could I thus even face thy father? And yet, whether it be from love, or from the thought that one so fair must needs live, or from the native simplicity of a woman's mind, my heart cannot believe that ill has befallen thee." (594) Meanwhile, the news was told to the king, and he hastened to the temple with Çukanasa, and tried to rouse the queen from the stupor of grief, saying: (595) "My queen, we dishonour ourselves by this show of grief. Our good deeds in a former life have carried us thus far. We are not the vessel of further joys. That which we have not earned is not won at will by beating the breast. The Creator does what He wills, and depends on none. We have had the joy of our son's babyhood and boyhood and youth. We have crowned him, and greeted his return from his world conquest. (596) All that is lacking to our wishes is that we have not seen him wed, so that we might leave him in our place, and retire to a hermitage. But to gain every desire is the fruit of very rare merit. We must, however, question Tvaritaka, for we know not all yet." (597) But when he heard from Tvaritaka how the prince's heart had broken, he interrupted him, and cried that a funeral pyre should be prepared for himself near the shrine of Mahakala. (598) All his treasure was to be given to Brahmans, and the kings who followed him were to return to their own lands. Then Tvaritaka implored him to hear the rest of the story of Vaiçampayana, and his grief was followed by wonder; while Çukanasa, showing the desire of a true friend to forget his own grief and offer consolation, said: (599) "Sire, in this wondrous transitory existence, wherein wander gods, demons, animals and men, filled with joy and grief, there is no event which is not possible. Why then doubt concerning this? If from a search for reason, how many things rest only on tradition, and are yet seen to be true? As the use of meditation or certain postures to cure a poisoned man, the attraction of the loadstone, the efficacy of mantras, Vedic or otherwise, in actions of all kinds, wherein sacred tradition is our authority. (600) Now there are many stories of curses in the Puranas, the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, and the rest. For it was owing to a curse that Nahusha [346] became a serpent, Saudasa [347] a cannibal, Yayati decrepit, Triçamku [348] a Candala, the heaven-dwelling Mahabhisha was born as Çantanu, while Ganga became his wife, and the Vasus, [349] his sons. Nay, even the Supreme God, Vishnu, was born as Yamadagni's son, and, dividing himself into four, he was born to Daçaratha, and also to Vasudeva at Mathura. Therefore the birth of gods among mortals is not hard of belief. And thou, sire, art not behind the men of old in virtue, nor is the moon greater than the god from whom the lotus springs. Our dreams at our sons' birth confirm the tale; the nectar that dwells in the moon preserves the prince's body, (601) and his beauty that gladdens the world must be destined to dwell in the world. We shall therefore soon see his marriage with Kadambari, and therein find all the past troubles of life more than repaid. Do then thine utmost by worshipping gods, giving gifts to Brahmans, and practising austerities, to secure this blessing." (602-604) The king assented, but expressed his resolve to go himself to behold the prince, and he and the queen, together with Çukanasa and his wife, went to the lake. (605) Comforted by the assurance of Meghanada, who came to meet him, that the prince's body daily grew in brightness, he entered the hermitage; (606) while, at the news of his coming, Mahaçveta fled in shame within the cave, and Kadambari swooned. And as he looked on his son, who seemed but to sleep, the queen rushed forward, and with fond reproaches entreated Candrapida to speak to them. (608) But the king reminded her that it was her part to comfort Çukanasa and his wife. "She also, to whom we shall owe the joy of again beholding our son alive, even the Gandharva princess, is yet in a swoon; do thou take her in thine arms, and bring her back to consciousness." Then she tenderly touched Kadambari, saying "Be comforted, my mother, [350] for without thee, who could have preserved the body of my son Candrapida? Surely thou must be wholly made of amrita, that we are again able to behold his face." (609) At the name of Candrapida and the touch of the queen, so like his own, Kadambari recovered her senses, and was helped by Madalekha to pay due honour, though with face bent in shame, to his parents. She received their blessing--"Mayest thou live long, and long enjoy an unwidowed life"--and was set close behind Vilasavati. The king then bade her resume her care of the prince, and took up his abode in a leafy bower near the hermitage, provided with a cool stone slab, and meet for a hermit, (610) and told his royal retinue that he would now carry out his long-cherished desire of an ascetic life, and that they must protect his subjects. "It is surely a gain if I hand over my place to one worthy of it, and by this enfeebled and useless body of mine win the joys of another world." 'So saying, he gave up all his wonted joys, and betook himself to the unwonted life in the woods; he found a palace beneath the trees; the delights of the zenana, in the creepers; the affection of friends, in the fawns; the pleasure of attire, in rags and bark garments. (611) His weapons were rosaries; his ambition was for another world; his desire for wealth was in penance. He refused all the delicacies that Kadambari and Mahaçveta offered him, and so dwelt with his queen and Çukanasa, counting all pains light, so that every morning and evening he might have the joy of seeing Candrapida.' Having told this tale, [351] the sage Jabali said with a scornful smile to his son Harita and the other ascetics: 'Ye have seen how this story has had power to hold us long, and to charm our hearts. And this is the love-stricken being who by his own fault fell from heaven, and became on earth Vaiçampayana, son of Çukanasa. He it is who, by the curse of his own wrathful father, and by Mahaçveta's appeal to the truth of her heart, has been born as a parrot.' (612) As he thus spoke, I awoke, as it were, out of sleep, and, young as I was, I had on the tip of my tongue all the knowledge gained in a former birth; I became skilled in all arts; I had a clear human voice, memory, and all but the shape of a man. My affection for the prince, my uncontrolled passion, my devotion to Mahaçveta, all returned. A yearning arose in me to know about them and my other friends, and though in deepest shame, I faintly asked Jabali: 'Now, blessed saint, that thou hast brought back my knowledge, my heart breaks for the prince who died in grief for my death. (613) Vouchsafe to tell me of him, so that I may be near him; even my birth as an animal will not grieve me.' With mingled scorn and pity he replied: 'Wilt thou not even now restrain thine old impatience? Ask, when thy wings are grown.' Then to his son's inquiry how one of saintly race should be so enslaved by love, he replied that this weak and unrestrained nature belonged to those born, like me, from a mother only. For the Veda says, 'As a man's parents are, so is he,' (614) and medical science, too, declares their weakness. And he said my life now would be but short, but that when the curse was over, I should win length of years. I humbly asked by what sacrifices I should gain a longer life, but he bade me wait, and as the whole night had passed unobserved in his story, (615) he sent the ascetics to offer the morning oblation, while Harita took me, and placed me in his own hut near his couch, and went to his morning duties. (616) During his absence, I sorrowfully thought how hard it would be to rise from being a bird to being a Brahman, not to say a saint, who has the bliss of heaven. Yet if I could not be united to those I loved in past lives why should I yet live? But Harita then returned, and told me that Kapiñjala was there. (617-618) When I saw him weary, yet loving as ever, I strove to fly to him, and he, lifting me up, placed me in his bosom, and then on his head. (619) Then he told me, 'Thy father Çvetaketu knew by divine insight of thy plight, and has begun a rite to help thee. As he began it I was set free from my horse's shape; (620) but he kept me till Jabali had recalled the past to thee, and now sends me to give thee his blessing, and say that thy mother Lakshmi is also helping in the rite.' (621) Then, bidding me stay in the hermitage, he rose to the sky, to take part in the rite. (622) After some days, however, my wings were grown, and I resolved to fly to Mahaçveta, so I set off towards the north; (623) but weariness soon overtook me, and I went to sleep in a tree, only to wake in the snare of a terrible Candala. (624) I besought him to free me, for I was on the way to my beloved, but he said he had captured me for the young Candala princess, who had heard of my gifts. With horror I heard that I, the son of Lakshmi and of a great saint, must dwell with a tribe shunned even by barbarians; (625) but when I urged that he could set me free without danger, for none would see him, he laughed, and replied: 'He, for whom there exist not the five guardians of the world, [352] witnesses of right and wrong, dwelling within his own body to behold his actions, will not do his duty for fear of any other being.' (626) So he carried me off, and as I looked out in hope of getting free from him, I beheld the barbarian settlement, a very market-place of evil deeds. It was surrounded on all sides by boys engaged in the chase, unleashing their hounds, teaching their falcons, mending snares, carrying weapons, and fishing, horrible in their attire, like demoniacs. Here and there the entrance to their dwellings, hidden by thick bamboo forests, was to be inferred, from the rising of smoke of orpiment. On all sides the enclosures were made with skulls; (627) the dustheaps in the roads were filled with bones; the yards of the huts were miry with blood, fat, and meat chopped up. The life there consisted of hunting; the food, of flesh; the ointment, of fat; the garments, of coarse silk; the couches, of dried skins; the household attendants, of dogs; the animals for riding, of cows; the men's employment, of wine and women; the oblation to the gods, of blood; the sacrifice, of cattle. The place was the image of all hells. (628) Then the man brought me to the Candala maiden, who received me gladly, and placed me in a cage, saying: 'I will take from thee all thy wilfulness.' What was I to do? Were I to pray her to release me, it was my power of speech that had made her desire me; were I silent, anger might make her cruel; (629) still, it was my want of self-restraint that had caused all my misery, and so I resolved to restrain all my senses, and I therefore kept entire silence and refused all food. Next day, however, the maiden brought fruits and water, and when I did not touch them she said tenderly: 'It is unnatural for birds and beasts to refuse food when hungry. If thou, mindful of a former birth, makest distinction of what may or may not be eaten, yet thou art now born as an animal, and canst keep no such distinction. (630) There is no sin in acting in accordance with the state to which thy past deeds have brought thee. Nay, even for those who have a law concerning food, it is lawful, in a time of distress, to eat food not meet for them, in order to preserve life. Much more, then, for thee. Nor needst thou fear this food as coming from our caste; for fruit may be accepted even from us; and water, even from our vessels, is pure, so men say, when it falls on the ground.' I, wondering at her wisdom, partook of food, but still kept silence. 'After some time, when I had grown up, I woke one day to find myself in this golden cage, and beheld the Candala maiden as thou, O king, hast seen her. (631) The whole barbarian settlement shewed like a city of the gods, and before I could ask what it all meant, the maiden brought me to thy feet. But who she is and why she has become a Candala, and why I am bound or brought hither, I am as eager as thou, O king, to learn.' Thereupon the king, in great amazement, sent for the maiden, and she, entering, overawed the king with her majesty, and said with dignity: 'Thou gem of earth, lord of Rohini, joy of Kadambari's eyes--thou, O moon, hast heard the story of thy past birth, and that of this foolish being. Thou knowest from him how even in this birth he disregarded his father's command, and set off to seek his bride. Now I am Lakshmi, his mother, and his father, seeing by divine insight that he had started, bade me keep him in safety till the religious rite for him was completed, and lead him to repentance. (632) The rite is now over. The end of the curse is at hand. I brought him to thee that thou mightest rejoice with him thereat. I became a Candala to avoid contact with mankind. Do ye both therefore, straightway leave bodies beset with the ills of birth, old age, pain, and death, and win the joy of union with your beloved.' So saying, she suddenly rose to the sky, followed by the gaze of all the people, while the firmament rang with her tinkling anklets. The king, at her words, remembered his former birth and said: 'Dear Pundarika, now called Vaiçampayana, happy is it that the curse comes to an end at the same moment for us both'; but while he spoke, Love drew his bow, taking Kadambari as his best weapon, and entered into the king's heart to destroy his life. (635) The flame of love wholly consumed him, and from longing for Mahaçveta, Vaiçampayana, who was in truth Pundarika, endured the same sufferings as the king. Now at this time there set in the fragrant season of spring, as if to burn him utterly, (636) and while it intoxicated all living beings, it was used by Love as his strongest shaft to bewilder the heart of Kadambari. On Kama's festival she passed the day with great difficulty, and at twilight, when the quarters were growing dark, she bathed, worshipped Kama, and placed before him the body of Candrapida, washed, anointed with musk-scented sandal, and decked with flowers. (637) Filled with a deep longing, she drew nigh, as if unconsciously and suddenly, bereft by love of a woman's native timidity, she could no longer restrain herself, and clasped Candrapida's neck as though he were yet alive. At her ambrosial embrace the prince's life came back to him, and, clasping her closely, like one awakened from sleep (638), he gladdened her by saying: 'Timid one, away with fear! Thine embrace hath brought me to life; for thou art born of the Apsaras race sprung from nectar, and it was but the curse that prevented thy touch from reviving me before. I have now left the mortal shape of Çudraka, that caused the pain of separation from thee; but this body I kept, because it won thy love. Now both this world and the moon are bound to thy feet. Vaiçampayana, too, the beloved of thy friend Mahaçveta, has been freed from the curse with me.' While the moon, hidden in the shape of Candrapida, thus spoke, Pundarika descended from the sky, pale, wearing still the row of pearls given by Mahaçveta, and holding the hand of Kapiñjala. (639) Gladly Kadambari hastened to tell Mahaçveta of her lover's return, while Candrapida said: 'Dear Pundarika, though in an earlier birth thou wast my son-in-law, [353] thou must now be my friend, as in our last birth.' Meanwhile, Keyuraka set off to Hemakuta to tell Hamsa and Citraratha, and Madalekha fell at the feet of Tarapida, who was absorbed in prayer to Çiva, Vanquisher of Death, and Vilasavati, and told them the glad tidings. (640) Then the aged king came, leaning on Çukanasa, with the queen and Manorama, and great was the joy of all. Kapiñjala too brought a message to Çukanasa from Çvetakatu, saying: 'Pundarika was but brought up by me; but he is thy son, and loves thee; do thou therefore keep him from ill, and care for him as thine own. (641) I have placed in him my own life, and he will live as long as the moon; so that my desires are fulfilled. The divine spirit of life in me now yearns to reach a region surpassing the world of gods.' That night passed in talk of their former birth; and next day the two Gandharva kings came with their queens, and the festivities were increased a thousandfold. Citraratha, however, said: 'Why, when we have palaces of our own, do we feast in the forest? Moreover, though marriage resting only on mutual love is lawful among us, [354] yet let us follow the custom of the world.' 'Nay,' replied Tarapida. 'Where a man hath known his greatest happiness, there is his home, even if it be the forest.1 (642) And where else have I known such joy as here? [355] All my palaces, too, have been given over to thy son-in-law; take my son, therefore, with his bride, and taste the joys of home.' Then Citraratha went with Candrapida to Hemakuta, and offered him his whole kingdom with the hand of Kadambari. Hamsa did the same to Pundarika; but both refused to accept anything, for their longings were satisfied with winning the brides dear to their hearts. Now, one day Kadambari, though her joy was complete, asked her husband with tears: 'How is it that when we all have died and come to life, and have been united with each other, Patralekha alone is not here, nor do we know what has become of her?' 'How could she be here, my beloved?' replied the prince tenderly. 'For she is my wife Rohini, and, when she heard I was cursed, grieving for my grief, she refused to leave me alone in the world of mortals, and though I sought to dissuade her, she accepted birth in that world even before me, that she might wait upon me. (643) When I entered on another birth, she again wished to descend to earth; but I sent her back to the world of the moon. There thou wilt again behold her.' But Kadambari, in wonder at Rohini's nobility, tenderness, loftiness of soul, devotion, and charm, was abashed, and could not utter a word. The ten nights that Candrapida spent at Hemakuta passed as swiftly as one day; and then, dismissed by Citraratha and Madira, who were wholly content with him, he approached the feet of his father. There he bestowed on the chieftains who had shared his sufferings a condition like his own, and laying on Pundarika the burden of government, followed the steps of his parents, who had given up all earthly duties. Sometimes from love of his native land, he would dwell in Ujjayini, where the citizens gazed at him with wide, wondering eyes; sometimes, from respect to the Gandharva king, at Hemakuta, beautiful beyond compare; sometimes, from reverence to Rohini, in the world of the moon, where every place was charming from the coolness and fragrance of nectar; sometimes, from love to Pundarika, by the lake where Lakshmi dwelt, on which the lotuses ever blossomed night and day, and often, to please Kadambari, in many another fair spot. With Kadambari he enjoyed many a pleasure, to which the yearning of two births gave an ever fresh [356] and inexhaustible delight. Nor did the Moon rejoice alone with Kadambari, nor she with Mahaçveta, but Mahaçveta with Pundarika, and Pundarika with the Moon, all spent an eternity of joy in each other's company, and reached the very pinnacle of happiness. APPENDIX. DESCRIPTION OF UJJAYINI. (102) There is a town by name Ujjayini, the proudest gem of the three worlds, the very birthplace of the golden age, created by the blessed Mahakala, [357] Lord of Pramathas, [358] Creator, Preserver and Destroyer of the Universe, as a habitation meet for himself, like a second earth. It is encompassed by a moat deep as hell--as by the ocean, mistaking it for another earth--and surrounded by fenced walls, white with plaster, like Kailasa, with its many points showing clear against the sky, through joy at being the dwelling of Çiva. It is adorned with large bazaars, like the oceans when their waters were drunk by Agastya, stretching far, with gold-dust for sand, with conch and oyster pearls, coral and emeralds laid bare. The painted halls that deck it are filled with gods, demons, Siddhas, [359] Gandharvas, genii, and snakes, (103) and show like a row of heavenly chariots come down from the sky to behold fair women at ceaseless festivals. Its crossways shine with temples like Mandara whitened by the milk raised up by the churning stick, with spotless golden vases for peaks, and white banners stirred by the breeze like the peaks of Himalaya with the heavenly Ganges falling on them. Commons gray with ketaki pollen, dark with green gardens, watered by buckets constantly at work, and having wells adorned with brick seats, lend their charm. Its groves are darkened by bees vocal with honey draughts, its breeze laden with the sweetness of creeper flowers, all trembling. It pays open honour to Kama, with banners marked with the fish on the house-poles, with bells ringing merrily, with crimson pennons of silk, and red cowries steady, made of coral, standing upright in every house. Its sin is washed away by the perpetual recitation of sacred books. (104) It resounds with the cry of the peacocks, intent on a wild dance with their tails outspread from excitement in the bathing-houses, wherein is the steady, deep sound of the drums, and a storm caused by the heavy showers of spray, and beautiful rainbows made by the sunbeams cast upon it. It glitters with lakes, fair with open blue water-lilies, with their centre white as unclosed moon-lotuses, beautiful in their unwavering gaze, [360] like the thousand eyes of Indra. It is whitened with ivory turrets on all sides, endowed with plantain groves, white as flecks of ambrosial foam. It is girt with the river Sipra, which seems to purify the sky, with its waves forming a ceaseless frown, as though jealously beholding the river of heaven on the head of Çiva, while its waters sway over the rounded forms of the Malavis, wild with the sweetness of youth. The light-hearted race that dwell there, like the moon on the locks of Çiva, spread their glory [361] through all the earth, and have their horn filled with plenty; [362] like Mainaka, they have known no pakshapata; [363] like the stream of the heavenly Ganges, with its golden lotuses, their heaps of gold and rubies [364] shine forth; like the law-books, they order the making of water-works, bridges, temples, pleasure-grounds, wells, hostels for novices, wayside sheds for watering cattle, and halls of assembly; like Mandara, they have the best treasures of ocean drawn up for them; though they have charms against poison, [365] yet they fear snakes; [366] though they live on the wicked, [367] they give their best to the good; though bold, they are very courteous; though pleasant of speech, they are truthful; though handsome, [368] content with their wives; though they invite the entrance of guests, they know not how to ask a boon; though they seek love and wealth, they are strictly just; though virtuous, they fear another world. [369] They are connoisseurs in all arts, pleasant [370] and intelligent. They talk merrily, are charming in their humour, spotless in their attire, (106) skilled in foreign languages, clever at subtleties of speech, [371] versed in stories of all kinds, [372] accomplished in letters, having a keen delight in the Mahabharata, Puranas, and Ramayana, familiar with the Brihatkatha, masters of the whole circle of arts, especially gambling, lovers of the çastras, devoted to light literature, calm as a fragrant spring breeze, constantly going to the south; [373] upright, [374] like the wood of Himalaya; skilled in the worship of Rama, [375] like Lakshmana; open lovers of Bharata, like Çatrughna; [376] like the day, following the sun; [377] like a Buddhist, bold in saying 'Yes' about all kinds of gifts; [378] like the doctrine of the Samkhya philosophy, possessed of noble men; [379] like Jinadharma, pitiful to life. The city seems possessed of rocks, with its palaces; it stretches like a suburb with its long houses; it is like the tree that grants desires with its good citizens; it bears in its painted halls the mirror of all forms. Like twilight, it shines with the redness of rubies; [380] (107) like the form of the Lord of Heaven, it is purified with the smoke of a hundred sacrifices; like the wild dance of Çiva, it has the smiles, which are its white markets; [381] like an old woman, it has its beauty worn; [382] like the form of Garuda, it is pleasing in being the resting-place of Vishnu; [383] like the hour of dawn, it has its people all alert; like the home of a mountaineer, it has palaces in which ivory cowries [384] are hanging; like the form of Çesha, [385] it always bears the world; like the hour of churning the ocean, it fills the end of the earth with its hubbub; [386] like the rite of inauguration, it has a thousand gold pitchers [387] at hand; like Gauri, it has a form fit to sit on the lion-throne; like Aditi, honoured in a hundred houses of the gods; like the sports of Mahavaraha, showing the casting down of Hiranyaksha; [388] like Kadru, it is a joy to the race of reptiles; [389] like the Harivamça, it is charming with the games of many children. [390] (108) Though its courts are open to all, its glory is uninjured; [391] though it glows with colour, [392] it is white as nectar; though it is hung with strings of pearls, yet when unadorned [393] it is adorned the most; though composed of many elements, [394] it is yet stable, and it surpasses in splendour the world of the immortals. There the sun is daily seen paying homage to Mahakala, for his steeds vail their heads at the charm of the sweet chant of the women singing in concert in the lofty white palaces, and his pennon droops before him. There his rays fall on the vermeil floors like the crimson of eve; and on the emerald seats, as though busy in creating lotus beds; on the lapis-lazuli, as though scattered on the sky; on the circling aloe smoke, as though eager to break its dense gloom; on the wreaths of pearl, as though disdaining the clusters of stars; (109) on the women's faces, as though kissing unfolding lotuses; on the splendour of crystal walls, as though falling amid the pale moonlight of morning; on the white silken banners, as though hanging on the waves of the heavenly Ganges; on the sun-gems, as though blossoming from them; on the sapphire lattices, as though entering the jaws of Rahu. There darkness never falls, and the nights bring no separation to the pairs of cakravakas; nor need they any lamps, for they pass golden as with morning sunshine, from the bright jewels of women, as though the world were on fire with the flame of love. There, though Çiva is at hand, the cry of the hamsas in the houses, arising sweet and ceaseless, at the kindling of love, fills the city with music, like the mourning of Rati for the burning of the God of Love. There the palaces stretch forth their flags, whose silken fringes gleam and flutter at night in the wind, like arms to remove the mark of the moon put to shame by the fair lotus-faced Malavis. (110) There the moon, deer-marked, moves, in the guise of his reflection, on the jewel pavement, cool with the sprinkling of much sandal-water, as though he had fallen captive to Love at the sight of the faces of the fair city dames resting on the palace roofs. There the auspicious songs of dawn raised by the company of caged parrots and starlings, though they sing their shrillest, as they wake at night's close, are drowned and rendered vain by the tinkling of women's ornaments, reaching far, and outvying the ambrosial voices of the tame cranes. [395] (111) There dwells Çiva, who has pierced the demon Andhaka with his sharp trident, who has a piece of the moon on his brow polished by the points of Gauri's anklets, whose cosmetic is the dust of Tripura, and whose feet are honoured by many bracelets fallen from Rati's outstretched arms as she pacifies him when bereft of Kama. DESCRIPTION OF TARAPIDA. [396] (112) Like hell, he was the refuge of the lords of earth, [397] fearing when their soaring pride was shorn; [398] like the stars, he was followed by the wise men; [399] like Love, he destroyed strife; [400] like Daçaratha, he had good friends; [401] (113) like Çiva, he was followed by a mighty host; [402] like Çesha, he had the weight of the earth upon him; [403] like the stream of Narmada, his descent was from a noble tree. [404] He was the incarnation of Justice, the very representative of Vishnu, the destroyer of all the sorrows of his people. He re-established justice, which had been shaken to its foundations by the Kali Age, set on iniquity, and mantled in gloom by the spread of darkness, just as Çiva re-established Kailasa when carried off by Ravana. He was honoured by the world as a second Kama, created by Çiva when his heart was softened by the lamentations of Rati. (113-115) Before him bowed conquered kings with eyes whose pupils were tremulous and quivering from fear, with the bands of the wreaths on their crest ornaments caught by the rays of his feet, and with the line of their heads broken by the lotus-buds held up in adoration. They came from the Mount of Sunrise, [405] which has its girdle washed by the ocean waves, where the flowers on the trees of its slopes are doubled by stars wandering among the leaves, where the sandal-wood is wet with the drops of ambrosia that fall from the moon as it rises, where the clove-trees [406] blossom when pierced by the hoofs of the horses of the sun's chariot, where the leaves and shoots of the olibanum-trees are cut by the trunk of the elephant Airavata; (114) from Setubandha, built with a thousand mountains seized by the hand of Nala, [407] where the fruit on the lavali-trees is carried off by monkeys, where the feet of Rama are worshipped by the water-deities coming up from the sea, and where the rock is starred with pieces of shell broken by the fall of the mountain; from Mandara, where the stars are washed by the waters of pure waterfalls, where the stones are polished by the rubbing of the edge of the fish ornament of Krishna rising at the churning of ambrosia, where the slopes are torn by the weight of the feet moving in the effort of drawing hither and thither Vasuki coiled in the struggles of Gods and demons, where the peaks are sprinkled with ambrosial spray; from Gandhamadana, beautiful with the hermitage of Badarika marked with the footprints of Nara and Narayana, where the peaks are resonant with the tinkling of the ornaments of the fair dames of Kuvera's city, where the water of the streams is purified by the evening worship of the Seven Rishis, and where the land around is perfumed by the fragments of lotuses torn up by Bhima. CANDRAPIDA'S ENTRY INTO THE PALACE. (188) Preceded by groups of chamberlains, hastening up and bowing, he received the respectful homage of the kings, who had already taken their position there, who came forward on all sides, who had the ground kissed by the rays of the crest-jewels loosened from their crests and thrown afar, and who were introduced one by one by the chamberlains; at every step he had auspicious words for his dismounting uttered by old women of the zenana, who had come out from inside, and were skilled in old customs; having passed through the seven inner courts crowded with thousands of different living beings, as if they were different worlds, he beheld his father. The king was stationed within, surrounded by a body-guard whose hands were stained black by ceaseless grasping of weapons, who had their bodies, with the exception of hands, feet, and eyes, covered with dark iron coats of mail, (189) like elephant-posts covered with swarms of bees ceaselessly attracted by desire of the scent of ichor, hereditary in their office, of noble birth, faithful; whose heroism might be inferred from their character and gestures, and who in their energy and fierceness were like demons. On either side he had white cowries ceaselessly waved by his women; and he sat on a couch white as a wild goose, and bright as a fair island, as if he were the heavenly elephant on the water of Ganges. VILASAVATI'S ATTENDANTS. (190) Approaching his mother, he saluted her. She was surrounded by countless zenana attendants in white jackets, like Çri with the waves of milk, and was having her time wiled away by elderly ascetic women, very calm in aspect, wearing tawny robes, like twilight in its clouds, worthy of honour from all the world, with the lobes of their ears long, knowing many stories, relating holy tales of old, reciting legends, holding books, and giving instructions about righteousness. (191) She was attended by eunuchs using the speech and dress of women, and wearing strange decorations; she had a mass of cowries constantly waved around her, and was waited upon by a bevy of women seated around her, bearing clothes, jewels, flowers, perfumes, betel, fans, unguents, and golden jars; she had strings of pearls resting on her bosom, as the earth has the stream of Ganges flowing in the midst of mountains, and the reflection of her face fell on a mirror close by, like the sky when the moon's orb has entered into the sun. ÇUKANASA'S PALACE. (192) He reached Çukanasa's gate, which was crowded with a troop of elephants appointed for the watch, obstructed by thousands of horses, (193) confused with the hustling of countless multitudes, visited day and night by Brahmans, Çaivas, and red-robed men skilled in the teaching of Çakyamuni, clothed as it were in the garments of righteousness, sitting on one side by thousands, forming circles, coming for various purposes, eager to see Çukanasa, having their eyes opened by the ointment of their several çastras, and showing their respectful devotion by an appearance of humility. The gateway was filled with a hundred thousand she-elephants of the tributary kings who had entered the palace with double blankets drawn round the mahouts who sat on their shoulders, having their mahouts asleep from weariness of their long waiting, some saddled and some not, nodding their heads from their long standing motionless. The prince dismounted in the outer court, as though he were in a royal palace, though not stopped by the guards standing in the entrance and running up in haste; and having left his horse at the entrance, leaning on Vaiçampayana, and having his way shown by circles of gatekeepers, who hastened up, pushing away the bystanders, he received the salutes of bands of chiefs who arose with waving crests to do him homage, and beheld the inner courts with all the attendants mute in fear of the scolding of cross porters, and having the ground shaken by hundreds of feet of the retinues of neighbouring kings frightened by the moving wands, (194) and finally entered the palace of Çukanasa, bright inside with fresh plaster, as if it were a second royal court. DESCRIPTION OF NIGHT. (196) The brightness of day approached the west, following the path of the sun's chariot-wheels, like a stream of water. Day wiped away all the glow of the lotuses with the sun's orb hastening downwards like a hand roseate as fresh shoots. The pairs of cakravakas, whose necks were hidden in swarms of bees approaching from familiarity with the scent of lotuses, were separated as if drawn by the noose of destiny. The sun's orb poured forth, under the guise of a rosy glow, the lotus honey-draught, as it were, drunk in with its rays till the end of day, as if in weariness of its path through the heavens. And when in turn the blessed sun approached another world, and was a very red lotus-earring of the West, when twilight shone forth with its lotus-beds opening into the lake of heaven, (197) when in the quarters of space lines of darkness showed clear like decorations of black aloes; when the glow of eve was driven out by darkness like a band of red lotuses by blue lotuses dark with bees; when bees slowly entered the hearts of red lotuses, as if they were shoots of darkness, to uproot the sunshine drunk in by the lotus-beds; when the evening glow had melted away, like the garland round the face of the Lady of night; when the oblations in honour of the goddess of twilight were cast abroad in all quarters; when the peacock's poles seemed tenanted by peacocks, by reason of the darkness gathered round their summits, though no peacocks were there; when the doves, very ear-lotuses of the Lakshmi of palaces, were roosting in the holes of the lattices; when the swings of the zenana had their bells dumb, and their gold seats motionless and bearing no fair dames; when the bands of parrots and mainas ceased chattering, and had their cages hung up on the branches of the palace mango-trees; when the lutes were banished, and their sound at rest in the ceasing of the concert; when the tame geese were quiet as the sound of the maidens' anklets was stilled; (198) when the wild elephants had the clefts of their cheeks free from bees, and their ornaments of pearls, cowries, and shells taken away; when the lights were kindled in the stables of the king's favourite steeds; when the troops of elephants for the first watch were entering; when the family priests, having given their blessing, were departing; when the jewelled pavements, emptied almost of attendants on the dismissal of the king's suite, spread out wide, kissed by the reflection of a thousand lights shining in the inner apartments, like offerings of golden campak-blossoms; when the palace tanks, with the splendours of the lamps falling on them, seemed as if the fresh sunlight had approached to soothe the lotus-beds grieved by separation from the sun; when the caged lions were heavy with sleep; and when Love had entered the zenana like a watchman, with arrows in hand and bow strung; when the words of Love's messenger were uttered in the ear, bright in tone as the blossoms in a garland; when the hearts of froward dames, widowed by grief, were smouldering in the fire transmitted to them from the sun-crystals; and when evening had closed in, Candrapida ... went to the king's palace.... THE REGION OF KAILASA. (243) The red arsenic-dust scattered by the elephants' tusks crimsoned the earth. The clefts of the rock were festooned with shoots of creepers, now separating and now uniting, hanging in twists, twining like leafage; the stones were wet with the ceaseless dripping of gum-trees; the boulders were slippery with the bitumen that oozed from the rocks. The slope was dusty with fragments of yellow orpiment broken by the mountain horses' hoofs; powdered with gold scattered from the holes dug out by the claws of rats; lined by the hoofs of musk-deer and yaks sunk in the sand and covered with the hair of rallakas and rankus fallen about; filled with pairs of partridges resting on the broken pieces of rock; with the mouths of its caves inhabited by pairs of orang-outangs; with the sweet scent of sulphur, and with bamboos that had grown to the length of wands of office. PASSAGES PRINTED IN THE APPENDIX. [408] 102, 1--110, 6 111, 1-4 112, 6--115, 1 188, 4--189, 5 190, 6--191, 5 192, 11--194, 2 196, 4--199, 1 243, 4-10 PASSAGES CONDENSED OR OMITTED. [409] 11, 7--15, 2 *31, 10--34, 2 46, 7--48, 4 81, 3-10 83, 1-8 85, 3--89, 4 119, 3--124, 3 137, 7--138, 3 141, 6--155, 5 162, 8--164, 8 176, 6--188, 4 *199, 5--200, 9 203, 2--204, 2 *227, 4--234, 6 242, 6-10 *245, 4--248, 3 250, 3-8 *252, 7--256, 5 262, 1--266, 3 276, 9--277, 8 285, 2-4 *346, 7--348, 7 353, 6--355, 9 357, 1-10 359, 12--365, 2 369, 2-8 *383, 6--384,9 388, 5--390, 4 403, 6--410, 3 417, 1--426, 3 NOTES [1] It is needless to give here more than the few facts essential for the understanding of 'Kadambari,' for the life and times of Bana will probably be treated of in the translation of the 'Harsha-Carita' by Professor Cowell and Mr. Thomas in this series; and Professor Peterson's Introduction to his edition of 'Kadambari' (Bombay Sanskrit Series, 1889) deals fully with Bana's place in literature. The facts here given are, for the most part, taken from the latter work. [2] E.g., the Madhuban grant of Sam 25, E. I. i., 67 ff. For this and other chronological references I am indebted to Miss C. M. Duff, who has let me use the MS. of her 'Chronology of India.' [3] For Bana's early life, V. 'Harsha-Carita,' chs. i., ii. I have to thank Mr. F. W. Thomas for allowing me to see the proof-sheets of his translation. [4] Peterson, 'Kadambari,' pp. 96-98; and 'The Subhashitavali,' edited by Peterson (Bombay Sanskrit Series, 1886), pp. 62-66. [5] Translated by Mr. C. Tawney (Calcutta, 1884), vol. ii., pp. 17-26. Somadeva's date is about A.D. 1063. [6] V. Peterson, 'Kadambari,' pp. 82-96. [7] Translated by Ballantyne and Pramada-Dasa-Mitra (Calcutta, 1875), § 567. The italics represent words supplied by the translators. [8] Kadambari,' p. 69. [9] Professor Peterson does not, however, make this deduction in favour of Bana's own version. [10] I.e., rasa, poetic charm. [11] 'Kadambari,' Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, pp. 205-221. 'Evam samatikramatsu--ajagama.' [12] Bombay edition, p. 6. [13] Professor Cowells review of 'A Bengali Historical Novel.' Macmillan, April, 1872. [14] V. Peterson, 'Kadambari,' p. 42. [15] Indeed, this description is so like in spirit to that of Clairvaux, that I cannot forbear quoting a few lines of the latter. The writer describes the workshops where the brethren labour, and the orchard used for rest and quiet thought, and goes on to say how the Aube is raised by the toils of the brethren to the level of the Abbey; it throws half its water into the Abbey, 'as if to salute the brethren, and seems to excuse itself for not coming in its whole force.' Then 'it returns with rapid current to the stream, and renders to it, in the name of Clairvaux, thanks for all the services which it has performed.' The writer then goes on to tell of the fountain which, protected by a grassy pavilion, rises from the mountain, and is quickly engulfed in the valley, 'offering itself to charm the sight and supply the wants of the brethren, as if it were not willing to have communition with any others than saints.' This last is surely a touch worthy of Bana. V. Dr. Eale's translation of 'St. Bernard's Works.' London, 1889, vol. ii., pp. 462-467. [16] Translated by Mr. C. Tawney. Oriental Translation Fund Series, p. 113. [17] V. 'Kadambari,' Nirnaya Sagara, p. 19, l. 2. [18] 'Hiouen Thsang,' translated by St. Julien, 'Mémoires sur les Contrées Occidentals,' I., pp. 247-265. Cf. also 'Harsha-Carita,' ch. viii. (p. 236 of the translation), where he pays great honour to a Buddhist sage. [19] E. I. i. 67. [20] V. 'Katha-Sarit-Sagara,' i. 505. [21] V. 'Kadambari,' pp. 97-104. [22] V. 'History of Indian Literature,' translation, London, 1878, p. 232. [23] V. 'Sahitya-Darpana,' § 626-628. [24] Ibid., § 630. [25] 'Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, Thou makest thy knife keen.' 'Merchant of Venice,' IV. 1, 123 (Globe edition). 'Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough, When there is in it but one only man.' 'Julius Cæsar,' I. 2, 156. [26] V. 'Sahitya-Darpana,' § 664. [27] Ibid., § 718-722. [28] Ibid., § 738. [29] V. Peterson, 'Kadambari,' p. 36. [30] Cf. Spenser's stanzas on Mutability. [31] V. infra, p. 208. [32] V. infra, p. 2. [33] The list looks long, but the pages in the 'Nirnaya-Sagara' edition contain frequently but few lines, and many of the omissions are a line or two of oft-repeated similes. [34] Beginning at p. 566 of the 'Nirnaya-Sagara' edition. [35] I here take the opportunity to acknowledge what by an oversight was omitted in its proper place, my indebtedness to Professor Cowell for the rendering into English verse of two couplets given on pp. 11 and 113. [36] As the three Vedas, or the triad. [37] Vishnu Purana, Bk. v., ch. 33. [38] His guru. [39] Rasa = (a) the eight rasas; (b) love. [40] Çayya = (a) composition; (b) couch. [41] (a) Which sparkle with emphatic words and similes; (b) like flashing lamps. [42] (a) Pun; (b) proximity. [43] Hanging on his ear (as an ornament). [44] In the case of elephants, 'having their ichor regulated by a proper regimen.' [45] With renowned warriors on their backs. [46] Having trunks as thick as sacrificial posts. [47] I.e., Vasavadatta and the Brihatkatha; or, r., advitiya, unrivalled. [48] (a) Unconquerable in might; (b) having unconquerable shafts. [49] In the case of Brahma, 'he made his chariot of flamingoes.' [50] (a) His hand was wet with a stream of constant giving; (b) the trunk was wet with ichor. [51] Or, to the sun's orb. [52] Vinata = (a) mother of Garuda; (b) humble. [53] Or, caste. [54] Or, fines of gold. [55] Or, fickle affections. [56] Had, mada = (a) pride; (b) ichor. [57] Or, breaking away from virtue. [58] Or, tribute. [59] In autumn, the hamsas, or wild geese, return. [60] Or, bamboos. [61] Ram. I. 60. [62] He had (a) great faults; (b) a long arm. [63] Dark. [64] I.e., imposed no heavy tribute. [65] Or, 'with citra and çravana,' lunar mansions. [66] Or, living creatures. [67] (a) Of lowly birth; (b) not dwelling on earth. [68] (a) Candala; (b) elephant. [69] Or, ajati, without caste. [70] Alaka = (a) curls; (b) a city. [71] Or, whose love would be a reproach. [72] A verse in the arya measure. [73] Vipula, Acala, and Çaça, characters in the Brihatkatha. Or, broad mountains and hares. [74] Varuna, tree; varuna, wine. [75] Or, with lightning. [76] Constellations. The moon was supposed to have a deer dwelling in it. [77] (a) The cowries held by the suite; (b) different kinds of deer. [78] (a) Rocky; (b) having Çiva. [79] Kuça: (a) Sita's son; (b) grass. Niçacara: (a) Ravana; (b) owls. [80] (a) Mark of aloes on the brow; (b) tilaka trees and aloe trees all bright. [81] (a) Love; (b) madana trees. [82] As an amulet. [83] Name of an ornament. [84] Wine-cups. [85] (a) Halls; (b) çal trees. [86] (a) Clapping of hands; (b) palm-trees. [87] (a) Arrows; (b) reeds. [88] (a) Trees; (b) eyes. [89] (a) As tamala trees (very dark); (b) with tamala trees. [90] Virata, a king who befriended the Pandavas. The chief of his army was named Kicaka. F. Mbh., Bk. iv., 815. Kicaka also means 'bamboo.' [91] Or, the twinkling stars of the Deer constellation, pursued by the Hunter (a constellation). [92] Bark garments, matted locks, and rags of grass. [93] (a) Seven leaves; (b) a tree. [94] (a) Of fierce disposition; (b) full of wild beasts. [95] The sign of a vow. [96] Or perhaps, 'not caring for the fascination of the beauty of Ravana,' i.e. his sister. He was loved by Ravana's sister. [97] Does this refer to the reflection of the sky in its clear water? [98] Çalmali = silk cotton-tree. [99] Lit., 'striving upwards to see.' [100] Indra's wood. [101] Çakuni = (a) bird; (b) name of Duryodhana's supporter. [102] Or, 'by Vanamala,' Krishna's chaplet. [103] Tara = (a) wife of Sugriva, the monkey king; (b) star. [104] Mountaineer. [105] Arjuna, or Karttavirya, was captured by Ravana when sporting in the Nerbuddha, and was killed by Paraçurama. V. Vishnu Purana, Bk. iv., ch. 11. [106] Dushana was one of Ravana's generals; Khara was Ravana's brother, and was slain by Rama. [107] Cf. Uttararamacarita, Act V. [108] Ekalavya, king of the Nishadas, killed by Krishna. Mbh., I., 132. [109] Or, curls. [110] V. Harivamça, 83. [111] Or, with clouds. [112] She-rhinoceros. [113] Or, rainbows. [114] Ekacakra = (a) a city possessed by Vaka; (b) one army, or one quoit. [115] Naga = (a) elephant; (b) snake. [116] Or, Çikhandi, a son of Drupada, a friend of the Pandavas. [117] Or, mirage. [118] Or, eager for the Manasa lake. The Vidyadhara was a good or evil genius attending the gods. V. Kulluka on Manu, xii., 47. [119] Yojanagandha, mother of Vyasa. [120] Or, 'bearing the form of Bhima.' He was Bhima's son. V. Mbh., I., 155. [121] (a) Crescent moon of Çiva; (b) eyes of peacocks' tails. [122] Hiranyakaçipu. V. Harivamça, 225. [123] Or, an ambitious man surrounded by bards (to sing his praises). [124] Or, loving blood. [125] Nishadas = (a) mountaineers; (b) the highest note of the scale. [126] (a) Had passed many ages; (b) had killed many birds. [127] Or, great wealth. [128] Black. [129] Or, Durga. [130] Or, mountain. [131] (a) Magnanimity; (b) great strength. [132] Anabhibhavaniya°. [133] (a) Awakening cry; (b) moral law. [134] Owls are supposed to be descendants of the sage Viçvamitra. [135] As omens. [136] Piçitaçna, a demon, or, according to the commentary here, a tiger. [137] Lit., 'creating a doubt of.' [138] Cf. Emerson's Essay on Experience: 'Sleep lingers all our life-time about our eyes, as night hovers all day in the boughs of the fir-tree.' [139] Read, Çrama. [140] Lit., 'To have been an extract from.' [141] Sacred to Indra, and burnt by Agni with the help of Arjuna and Krishna. [142] Three horizontal lines. [143] Truth in thought, word, and deed. [144] Read, Nishpatata. [145] Nilapandu, mottled blue and white. The Hindu penance is to be between five fires: four on earth and the sun above. V. Manu, vi. 23. [146] The sign of a vow. [147] (a) Bark garment; (b) bark of trees. [148] (a) Girdle. V. Manu, ii. 42; (b) mountain slope. [149] Or, the moon. [150] Or, with. [151] (a) Kripa = compassion; (b) Kripa was the teacher of Açvatthama, or Drauni. [152] Or, Virgo, Cervus, the Pleiads and Draco. [153] (a) Having twilight drunk up; (b) having many faults eradicated. [154] Rajas = (a) dust; (b) passion. [155] In performance of a vow. V. Manu, vi. 23. [156] Or, 'of the demon Naraka,' slain by Krishna. Harivamça­­, 122. [157] Or, had stars tawny at the junction of night and day. [158] Lit., (a) Holding all his passions in firm restraint; (b) having the axle of its wheels firm. [159] Lit., (a) He had a body wasted by secret performance of penance; (b) he brought to nought the enemies' plans of battle by secret counsel and by his army. [160] Or, having caves with whirlpools and the circles of shells oblique. [161] Or, quays. [162] (a) Perhaps Pushkara, the place of pilgrimage in Ajmere; (b) lotus-grove. [163] (a) Having entrance into great halls; (b) being absorbed in Brahma. [164] Or, salvation. [165] Or, inflicted punishment; or, though intent on the Sama veda, he was yet a dandi; i.e., an ascetic who despises ritual. [166] Having beautiful matted locks. [167] (a) Having no left eye; (b) having no crooked glances. [168] R. V., x. 190. [169] Another kind of bread-tree. [170] The Commentary explains it as 'Veda.' [171] The tridandaka or three staves of the mendicant Brahman who has resigned the world. [172] Or, impassioned glances. [173] (a) Moulting; (b) partisanship. [174] Bala = (a) hair; (b) children. [175] Rama, woman. [176] Çakuni = (a) a bird; (b) Duryodhana's uncle. [177] Vayu = (a) wind; (b) breath. [178] (a) Teeth; (b) Brahmans. [179] Or, dullness. [180] Or, seeking prosperity. [181] Or, seek enjoyment. [182] Or good fortune. [183] The Garhapatya, Dakshina, and Ahavaniya fires. [184] Proverbial phrase for clearness. [185] Vishnu Purana, vi., ch. 3, 'The seven solar rays dilate to seven suns, and set the three worlds on fire.' [186] Lit., 'is leader of.' [187] Or, caprice. [188] Vishnu Purana, i., 123. [189] Semi-divine beings dwelling between the earth and the sun. [190] Tara = (a) stars; (b) wife of Brihaspati, carried away by the moon. [191] (a) "Wife of the sage Vaçishtha; (b) the morning star. [192] (a) Constellation; (b) staff borne during a vow. [193] (a) Constellation; (b) roots for the hermits' food. [194] Or, constellation. [195] Çiva. [196] Caste. [197] Friends. [198] I.e., king, minister, and energy. [199] Or, misfortune. [200] An ordeal. [201] An ordeal. [202] (a) Clearing of the waters after the rainy season; (b) ordeal of poison. [203] (a) Magic; (b) practice of Yoga. [204] (a) Lit., 'tearing out of eyes;' (b) slaughter of the demon Taraka by Kartikeya. [205] A star in the Scorpion's tail. [206] Seizing of tribute. [207] Or, having his body united. V. Dowson, 'Classical Dictionary.' [208] Having fortresses subdued. [209] These are teachers of the gods and heroes. [210] Vishnu. [211] Lit., 'firm.' [212] (a) The gods; (b) love. [213] Four was the number of the oceans and of the arms of Narayana. [214] The divine mothers, or personified energies of the chief deities. [215] Wife of Çukanasa. [216] Summary of pp. 141-155. [217] Or, Ananga, name of Kama. [218] Since he can only give it the name, not the substance or meaning. Kumara = (a) name of Kartikeya; (b) prince. [219] Kama. [220] Summary of pp. 176-189. [221] Lit., 'sew him to himself.' [222] Summary of pp. 190, 191. [223] Summary of p. 193. [224] Çarabha, a fabulous animal supposed to have eight legs, and to dwell in the snowy mountains. [225] (a) Many sins; (b) twilight. [226] Lit., (a) climbs trees; (b) protects parasites. [227] (a) Showing the elevation of many men; (b) rising in stature to the height of many men. [228] Or, arrogance. [229] Or, stupidity. [230] Or, wealth. [231] Or, ill-fortune. [232] Balam = (a) strength; (b) army. Laghuma = (a) lightness; (b) triviality. [233] Vigrahavati = (a) having a body; (b) full of strife. [234] Purushottama, i.e., Vishnu. [235] The rainy season sends away the hamsas. [236] Lit., their limbs fail them. [237] Which have a strong scent. [238] Men having throbbing eyes. [239] (a) A noble man; (b) fire. [240] Or, drink. [241] Or, taxes. [242] Like Vishnu. [243] Like Çiva. [244] Lit., 'inlaid.' [245] Or, kesara flowers. [246] Recaka, so commentary. [247] Both trees of paradise. [248] The quarter of Çatakratu or Indra. [249] All auspicious signs. Cakra is (a) a quoit; (b) a cakravaka. [250] (a) A demon; (b) the heron. [251] For the love of snakes for the breeze, V. Raghuvamça, XIII., 12, and Buddhacarita, I., 44. Snakes are sometimes called vayubaksha. [252] The following reference to Thomas Bell's 'History of British Quadrupeds' was given by Mr. S. B. Charlesworth. 'Writing about the deer of our parks (p. 404) he (Bell) quotes Playford's "Introduction to Music" as follows: "Travelling some years since, I met on the road near Royston a herd of about twenty deer following a bagpipe and violin, which while the music played went forward. When it ceased they all stood still, and in this manner they were brought out of Yorkshire to Hampton Court."' V. supra, pp. 40, 79. [253] Meghaduta, 38. [254] The dvipas are continents separated from each other by oceans. The Çvetadvipa, or White Continent, is, according to Weber, suggested by Alexandria. V. 'Indische Studien,' I., 400; II., 397, 398. [255] Dvandva, a pair of opposites, as, e.g., pleasure and pain. [256] (a) Brilliant; (b) Durga. [257] Summary of p. 277. [258] The Commentary says: 'A house is whitened to welcome anyone. The face (or mouth) is the dwelling of Sarasvati.' [259] Mandara, one of the trees of Paradise. [260] The month June-July. [261] Staff. [262] (a) A tilaka, or mark of ashes; (b) abundance of tilaka trees white with blossoms. [263] Read Kauçalasya. [264] Cf. 'Dulce rudimentum meditantis lilia quondam naturæ, cum sese opera ad majora pararet.'--Rapin, on the convolvulus. V. Hallam, 'Hist. of Lit.,' Pt. iv., ch. v. [265] Vishnu Purana, Wilson, 1865, vol. ii., p. 297. [266] Son of Kuvera. [267] The coral tree. [268] Or, virtue. [269] 'In the arya metre,' in the Sanskrit. [270] Manasijanma = (a) born in the Manasa lake; (b) born in the mind, i.e., love. Muktalata = (a) a white creeper; (b) a pearl necklace. [271] Scilicet, in the day. [272] Turbid with (a) dust; (b) passion. [273] The Vishnu Purana, Bk. vi., ch. iii., mentions seven suns. [274] The asterism Rohini. [275] Utkalika = (a) wave; (b) longing. [276] Or, hand. [277] Hands. [278] Feet. [279] Hands. [280] Candracandala (lit., 'base-born moon') is intended as an assonance. [281] Purnapatra, a basket of gifts to be scrambled for at a wedding. [282] I.e., the row of pearls given by Mahaçveta. [283] Omit, priyajanaviçvasavacanani. [284] Read, parityakta. [285] Read, antare. [286] Goçirsha, a kind of fragrant sandal. [287] V. Vishnu Purana, Bk. i., ch. iii. (For the description of Brahma's night.) [288] Tatah Saindhavako raja kshudras, tata, Jayadrathah, Varadanena Rudrasya sarvan nah samavarayat. ('Then the vile Sindh kinglet, Jayadratha, through the boon conferred by Rudra, O my son, kept us all back.')--Mahabharata, vii., 2574. [289] Harivamça, 4906. [290] The cakora, or Greek partridge, was said to have its eyes turned red in the presence of poison. [291] Madira, intoxicating, bewitching; so called because her eyes were madirah. [292] Daksha cursed the moon with consumption at the appeal of his forty-nine daughters, the moon's wives, who complained of his special favour to the fiftieth sister. [293] Lit., 'without cause.' [294] Lit., 'going by machinery.' [295] Trees of paradise. [296] A pun on pida, grief. [297] A pun on pida, a chaplet. [298] Read irshyam, vyatham, and rosham, as the Calcutta edition. [299] 'All the rasas,' the ten emotions of love, fear, etc., enumerated by writers on rhetoric. [300] Because water was poured out to ratify a gift. [301] Bhashita, literally, 'addressed by'; or read, bhavita, 'entering into the spirit of.' [302] Read nirdakshinyaya. [303] A bundle of peacock feathers waved by the conjuror to bewilder the audience. [304] The dark blue of the bees was like the blue veil worn by women going to meet their lovers. [305] This passage is condensed. [306] Read musho. [307] I.e., 'relic,' or 'remaining.' [308] Read Mahaçvetam. [309] Cf. 'Harsha Carita' (Bombay edition, p. 272), 'Parameçvarottamangapatadurlalitangam'. [310] Read Kumudamayya. [311] A tree of paradise. [312] Tali, a kind of palm; Kandala, a plantain. [313] Or, reading avirala, thick coming. [314] The Vishnu Purana, Bk. ii., ch. ii., calls Mandara the Mountain of the East; Gandhamadana, of the South; Vipula, of the West; and Suparçva, of the North. [315] Father of Kuvera. [316] Brahma. [317] A phrase denoting readiness to obey. V. supra, p. 15. [318] Pouring water into the hand was the confirmation of a gift. V. supra, p. 150. [319] Transpose iti. [320] Hybiscus mutabilis changes colour thrice a day. [321] Or, at a wrong time. [322] Remove the stop after asyah and Candrapidah, and place one after gantum. [323] 'It is not allowed by her favour to move.' [324] Read suhridapi gantavyam, 'his friend must go.' [325] Or, sampanna, 'full-grown, having fruit and flowers,' according to the commentary. [326] Read khinne. [327] Read prasadanam. [328] Read °janat, etc. [329] V. supra, p. 12, where the robes of the chiefs are torn by their ornaments in their hasty movements. [330] Paravaça iva, or, 'with mind enslaved to other thoughts.' [331] Read garigasi. [332] The Jamuna is a common comparison for blue or green. [333] Placing a stop after gaditum instead of after nihçesham. [334] An allusion to the idea that the açoka would bud when touched by the foot of a beautiful woman. [335] Anubandha, one of the four necessary conditions in writing. (a) Subject-matter; (b) purpose; (c) relation between subject treated and its end; (d) competent person to hear it.-- V. 'Vedanta Sara.,' p. 2-4; 'Vacaspatya Dictionary.' [336] 'Manu,' ix., 90. [337] I.e., the down on the body rises from joy (a common idea in Sanskrit writers), and holds the robe on its points. [338] Read, Samdiçanti, and place the stop after svayam instead of after samdiçanti. [339] I.e., awake a sleeping lion. [340] Or, 'wine.' [341] Bhushanabhatta, after these introductory lines, continues Patralekha's account of Kadambari's speech, and completes the story. [342] I.e., Patralekha. [343] Literally, 'that forest of creepers, sc. maidens.' [344] So commentary. [345] Avanti is the province of which Ujjayini is the capital. For the Divine Mothers, V. supra, p. 56. [346] V. supra, pp. 19, 20, 47. [347] A king of the solar race. [348] V. supra, p. 6. [349] Read ashtanam api Vasunam. [350] The commentary says 'mother' is said to a daughter-in-law, just as tata, 'father,' is said to a son. [351] The parrot's own history is now continued from p. 47. [352] The commentary explains these as Indra, Yama, Varuna, Soma and Kuvera. The Calcutta translation apparently translates a reading mahabhutani. [353] As the betrothed of Mahaçveta, who was of the moon-race of Apsarases. [354] For gandharva marriage, v. Manu., iii. 32. [355] Cf. M. Arnold: 'Ah, where the spirit its highest life hath led, All spots, match'd with that spot, are less divine.' [356] Apunarukta, 'without tautology.' [357] Çiva. [358] Fiends attendant on Çiva. [359] Vide p. 98. [360] Or, with fishes. [361] Or, light. [362] Literally (a) whose wealth is crores of rupees; (b) in the case of the moon, 'whose essence is in its horns.' [363] (a) Partizanship; (b) cutting of pinions. When the rest of the mountains lost their wings, Mainaka escaped. [364] Or, padma, 1000 billions. [365] Or, emeralds. [366] Or, rogues. [367] Or, granaries. [368] Or, learned. [369] Or, though full of energy, they fear their enemies. [370] Or, liberal. [371] V. Sahitya-Darpana, 641. [372] Ibid., 568. [373] Or, offering gifts. [374] Or, containing pine-trees. [375] Or, attentive to women. [376] Brother of Rama and Bharata. [377] Or, their friends. [378] Or, of the Sarvastivadin School (a subdivision of the Vaibhashika Buddhists). [379] Or, matter and spirit. [380] Or, lotus-hued. [381] In the case of Çiva, 'loud laughter, bright as nectar.' [382] It has treasure vaults. [383] Or, keeping its covenants firm. [384] Or, houses whitened with ivory and cowries. [385] Or, having splendid mountains always at hand. [386] Or, false. [387] Or, gold pieces. [388] (a) Demon; (b) golden dice. [389] Or, rogues. [390] Or, the sporting of King Bala. [391] Though the free intercourse with women is allowed, it is of irreproachable conduct. [392] Its castes are loved. [393] Vihara (a) without necklaces; (b) having temples. [394] Having many citizens. [395] Then follows: 'There--demons,' p. 47, l. 18. [396] Follows p. 48, l. 17, 'gay.' [397] Read °kulaih; (a) Kings; (b) mountains. [398] Loss of dependencies; or, loss of wings. [399] Or, by the star Budha. [400] Or, his body was destroyed. [401] Or, Sumitra, wife of Daçaratha. [402] Or, by the 'Lord of Battles,' i.e., Kartikeya. [403] Or, was honoured for his patience. [404] (a) A great family; (b) a great bamboo from which the river is said to rise. [405] V. supra, p. 162. [406] Read lavanga. [407] A monkey chief. [408] The figures refer to the page and line of the Nirnaya-Sagara edition of Kadambari. [409] Passages marked * are condensed, and only occasional phrases are translated. 
6686	----	THE GARDENER By Rabindranath Tagore Translated by the author from the original Bengali 1915 [Frontispiece: Rabindranath Tagore. Age 16--see tagore.jpg] To W. B. Yeats Thanks are due to the editor of _Poetry, a Magazine of Verse_, for permission to reprint eight poems in this volume. Preface Most of the lyrics of love and life, the translations of which from Bengali are published in this book, were written much earlier than the series of religious poems contained in the book named _Gitanjali_. The translations are not always literal--the originals being sometimes abridged and sometimes paraphrased. Rabindranath Tagore. 1 SERVANT. Have mercy upon your servant, my queen! QUEEN. The assembly is over and my servants are all gone. Why do you come at this late hour? SERVANT. When you have finished with others, that is my time. I come to ask what remains for your last servant to do. QUEEN. What can you expect when it is too late? SERVANT. Make me the gardener of your flower garden. QUEEN. What folly is this? SERVANT. I will give up my other work. I will throw my swords and lances down in the dust. Do not send me to distant courts; do not bid me undertake new conquests. But make me the gardener of your flower garden. QUEEN. What will your duties be? SERVANT. The service of your idle days. I will keep fresh the grassy path where you walk in the morning, where your feet will be greeted with praise at every step by the flowers eager for death. I will swing you in a swing among the branches of the _saptaparna_, where the early evening moon will struggle to kiss your skirt through the leaves. I will replenish with scented oil the lamp that burns by your bedside, and decorate your footstool with sandal and saffron paste in wondrous designs. QUEEN. What will you have for your reward? SERVANT. To be allowed to hold your little fists like tender lotus-buds and slip flower chains over your wrists; to tinge the soles of your feet with the red juice of _ashoka_ petals and kiss away the speck of dust that may chance to linger there. QUEEN. Your prayers are granted, my servant, you will be the gardener of my flower garden. 2 "Ah, poet, the evening draws near; your hair is turning grey. "Do you in your lonely musing hear the message of the hereafter?" "It is evening," the poet said, "and I am listening because some one may call from the village, late though it be. "I watch if young straying hearts meet together, and two pairs of eager eyes beg for music to break their silence and speak for them. "Who is there to weave their passionate songs, if I sit on the shore of life and contemplate death and the beyond? "The early evening star disappears. "The glow of a funeral pyre slowly dies by the silent river. "Jackals cry in chorus from the courtyard of the deserted house in the light of the worn-out moon. "If some wanderer, leaving home, come here to watch the night and with bowed head listen to the murmur of the darkness, who is there to whisper the secrets of life into his ears if I, shutting my doors, should try to free myself from mortal bonds? "It is a trifle that my hair is turning grey. "I am ever as young or as old as the youngest and the oldest of this village. "Some have smiles, sweet and simple, and some a sly twinkle in their eyes. "Some have tears that well up in the daylight, and others tears that are hidden in the gloom. They all have need for me, and I have no time to brood over the afterlife. "I am of an age with each, what matter if my hair turns grey?" 3 In the morning I cast my net into the sea. I dragged up from the dark abyss things of strange aspect and strange beauty--some shone like a smile, some glistened like tears, and some were flushed like the cheeks of a bride. When with the day's burden I went home, my love was sitting in the garden idly tearing the leaves of a flower. I hesitated for a moment, and then placed at her feet all that I had dragged up, and stood silent. She glanced at them and said, "What strange things are these? I know not of what use they are!" I bowed my head in shame and thought, "I have not fought for these, I did not buy them in the market; they are not fit gifts for her." Then the whole night through I flung them one by one into the street. In the morning travellers came; they picked them up and carried them into far countries. 4 Ah me, why did they build my house by the road to the market town? They moor their laden boats near my trees. They come and go and wander at their will. I sit and watch them; my time wears on. Turn them away I cannot. And thus my days pass by. Night and day their steps sound by my door. Vainly I cry, "I do not know you." Some of them are known to my fingers, some to my nostrils, the blood in my veins seems to know them, and some are known to my dreams. Turn them away I cannot. I call them and say, "Come to my house whoever chooses. Yes, come." In the morning the bell rings in the temple. They come with their baskets in their hands. Their feet are rosy red. The early light of dawn is on their faces. Turn them away I cannot. I call them and I say, "Come to my garden to gather flowers. Come hither." In the mid-day the gong sounds at the palace gate. I know not why they leave their work and linger near my hedge. The flowers in their hair are pale and faded; the notes are languid in their flutes. Turn them away I cannot. I call them and say, "The shade is cool under my trees. Come, friends." At night the crickets chirp in the woods. Who is it that comes slowly to my door and gently knocks? I vaguely see the face, not a word is spoken, the stillness of the sky is all around. Turn away my silent guest I cannot. I look at the face through the dark, and hours of dreams pass by. 5 I am restless. I am athirst for far-away things. My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance. O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute! I forget, I ever forget, that I have no wings to fly, that I am bound in this spot evermore. I am eager and wakeful, I am a stranger in a strange land. Thy breath comes to me whispering an impossible hope. Thy tongue is known to my heart as its very own. O Far-to-seek, O the keen call of thy flute! I forget, I ever forget, that I know not the way, that I have not the winged horse. I am listless, I am a wanderer in my heart. In the sunny haze of the languid hours, what vast vision of thine takes shape in the blue of the sky! O Farthest end, O the keen call of thy flute! I forget, I ever forget, that the gates are shut everywhere in the house where I dwell alone! 6 The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest. They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate. The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood." The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the cage." Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?" "Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit perched in the sky." The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands." The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned." The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught." The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands." Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing. Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other. They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my love!" The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage." The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead." 7 O mother, the young Prince is to pass by our door,--how can I attend to my work this morning? Show me how to braid up my hair; tell me what garment to put on. Why do you look at me amazed, mother? I know well he will not glance up once at my window; I know he will pass out of my sight in the twinkling of an eye; only the vanishing strain of the flute will come sobbing to me from afar. But the young Prince will pass by our door, and I will put on my best for the moment. O mother, the young Prince did pass by our door, and the morning sun flashed from his chariot. I swept aside the veil from my face, I tore the ruby chain from my neck and flung it in his path. Why do you look at me amazed, mother? I know well he did not pick up my chain; I know it was crushed under his wheels leaving a red stain upon the dust, and no one knows what my gift was nor to whom. But the young Prince did pass by our door, and I flung the jewel from my breast before his path. 8 When the lamp went out by my bed I woke up with the early birds. I sat at my open window with a fresh wreath on my loose hair. The young traveller came along the road in the rosy mist of the morning. A pearl chain was on his neck, and the sun's rays fell on his crown. He stopped before my door and asked me with an eager cry, "Where is she?" For very shame I could not say, "She is I, young traveller, she is I." It was dusk and the lamp was not lit. I was listlessly braiding my hair. The young traveller came on his chariot in the glow of the setting sun. His horses were foaming at the mouth, and there was dust on his garment. He alighted at my door and asked in a tired voice, "Where is she?" For very shame I could not say, "She is I, weary traveller, she is I." It is an April night. The lamp is burning in my room. The breeze of the south comes gently. The noisy parrot sleeps in its cage. My bodice is of the colour of the peacock's throat, and my mantle is green as young grass. I sit upon the floor at the window watching the deserted street. Through the dark night I keep humming, "She is I, despairing traveller, she is I." 9 When I go alone at night to my love-tryst, birds do not sing, the wind does not stir, the houses on both sides of the street stand silent. It is my own anklets that grow loud at every step and I am ashamed. When I sit on my balcony and listen for his footsteps, leaves do not rustle on the trees, and the water is still in the river like the sword on the knees of a sentry fallen asleep. It is my own heart that beats wildly--I do not know how to quiet it. When my love comes and sits by my side, when my body trembles and my eyelids droop, the night darkens, the wind blows out the lamp, and the clouds draw veils over the stars. It is the jewel at my own breast that shines and gives light. I do not know how to hide it. 10 Let your work be, bride. Listen, the guest has come. Do you hear, he is gently shaking the chain which fastens the door? See that your anklets make no loud noise, and that your step is not over-hurried at meeting him. Let your work be, bride, the guest has come in the evening. No, it is not the ghostly wind, bride, do not be frightened. It is the full moon on a night of April; shadows are pale in the courtyard; the sky overhead is bright. Draw your veil over your face if you must, carry the lamp to the door if you fear. No, it is not the ghostly wind, bride, do not be frightened. Have no word with him if you are shy; stand aside by the door when you meet him. If he asks you questions, and if you wish to, you can lower your eyes in silence. Do not let your bracelets jingle when, lamp in hand, you lead him in. Have no word with him if you are shy. Have you not finished your work yet, bride? Listen, the guest has come. Have you not lit the lamp in the cowshed? Have you not got ready the offering basket for the evening service? Have you not put the red lucky mark at the parting of your hair, and done your toilet for the night? O bride, do you hear, the guest has come? Let your work be! 11 Come as you are; do not loiter over your toilet. If your braided hair has loosened, if the parting of your hair be not straight, if the ribbons of your bodice be not fastened, do not mind. Come as you are; do not loiter over your toilet. Come, with quick steps over the grass. If the raddle come from your feet because of the dew, if the rings of bells upon your feet slacken, if pearls drop out of your chain, do not mind. Come with quick steps over the grass. Do you see the clouds wrapping the sky? Flocks of cranes fly up from the further river-bank and fitful gusts of wind rush over the heath. The anxious cattle run to their stalls in the village. Do you see the clouds wrapping the sky? In vain you light your toilet lamp--it flickers and goes out in the wind. Who can know that your eyelids have not been touched with lamp- black? For your eyes are darker than rain-clouds. In vain you light your toilet lamp--it goes out. Come as you are; do not loiter over your toilet. If the wreath is not woven, who cares; if the wrist-chain has not been linked, let it be. The sky is overcast with clouds--it is late. Come as you are; do not loiter over your toilet. 12 If you would be busy and fill your pitcher, come, O come to my lake. The water will cling round your feet and babble its secret. The shadow of the coming rain is on the sands, and the clouds hang low upon the blue lines of the trees like the heavy hair above your eyebrows. I know well the rhythm of your steps, they are beating in my heart. Come, O come to my lake, if you must fill your pitcher. If you would be idle and sit listless and let your pitcher float on the water, come, O come to my lake. The grassy slope is green, and the wild flowers beyond number. Your thoughts will stray out of your dark eyes like birds from their nests. Your veil will drop to your feet. Come, O come to my lake if you must sit idle. If you would leave off your play and dive in the water, come, O come to my lake. Let your blue mantle lie on the shore; the blue water will cover you and hide you. The waves will stand a-tiptoe to kiss your neck and whisper in your ears. Come, O come to my lake, if you would dive in the water. If you must be mad and leap to your death, come, O come to my lake. It is cool and fathomlessly deep. It is dark like a sleep that is dreamless. There in its depths nights and days are one, and songs are silence. Come, O come to my lake, if you would plunge to your death. 13 I asked nothing, only stood at the edge of the wood behind the tree. Languor was still upon the eyes of the dawn, and the dew in the air. The lazy smell of the damp grass hung in the thin mist above the earth. Under the banyan tree you were milking the cow with your hands, tender and fresh as butter. And I was standing still. I did not say a word. It was the bird that sang unseen from the thicket. The mango tree was shedding its flowers upon the village road, and the bees came humming one by one. On the side of the pond the gate of _Shiva's_ temple was opened and the worshipper had begun his chants. With the vessel on your lap you were milking the cow. I stood with my empty can. I did not come near you. The sky woke with the sound of the gong at the temple. The dust was raised in the road from the hoofs of the driven cattle. With the gurgling pitchers at their hips, women came from the river. Your bracelets were jingling, and foam brimming over the jar. The morning wore on and I did not come near you. 14 I was walking by the road, I do not know why, when the noonday was past and bamboo branches rustled in the wind. The prone shadows with their out-stretched arms clung to the feet of the hurrying light. The _koels_ were weary of their songs. I was walking by the road, I do not know why. The hut by the side of the water is shaded by an overhanging tree. Some one was busy with her work, and her bangles made music in the corner. I stood before this hut, I know not why. The narrow winding road crosses many a mustard field, and many a mango forest. It passes by the temple of the village and the market at the river landing place. I stopped by this hut, I do not know why. Years ago it was a day of breezy March when the murmur of the spring was languorous, and mango blossoms were dropping on the dust. The rippling water leapt and licked the brass vessel that stood on the landing step. I think of that day of breezy March, I do not know why. Shadows are deepening and cattle returning to their folds. The light is grey upon the lonely meadows, and the villagers are waiting for the ferry at the bank. I slowly return upon my steps, I do not know why. 15 I run as a musk-deer runs in the shadow of the forest mad with his own perfume. The night is the night of mid-May, the breeze is the breeze of the south. I lose my way and I wander, I seek what I cannot get, I get what I do not seek. From my heart comes out and dances the image of my own desire. The gleaming vision flits on. I try to clasp it firmly, it eludes me and leads me astray. I seek what I cannot get, I get what I do not seek. 16 Hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes: thus begins the record of our hearts. It is the moonlit night of March; the sweet smell of _henna_ is in the air; my flute lies on the earth neglected and your garland of flowers in unfinished. This love between you and me is simple as a song. Your veil of the saffron colour makes my eyes drunk. The jasmine wreath that you wove me thrills to my heart like praise. It is a game of giving and withholding, revealing and screening again; some smiles and some little shyness, and some sweet useless struggles. This love between you and me is simple as a song. No mystery beyond the present; no striving for the impossible; no shadow behind the charm; no groping in the depth of the dark. This love between you and me is simple as a song. We do not stray out of all words into the ever silent; we do not raise our hands to the void for things beyond hope. It is enough what we give and we get. We have not crushed the joy to the utmost to wring from it the wine of pain. This love between you and me is simple as a song. 17 The yellow bird sings in their tree and makes my heart dance with gladness. We both live in the same village, and that is our one piece of joy. Her pair of pet lambs come to graze in the shade of our garden trees. If they stray into our barley field, I take them up in my arms. The name of our village is Khanjan, and Anjan they call our river. My name is known to all the village, and her name is Ranjan. Only one field lies between us. Bees that have hived in our grove go to seek honey in theirs. Flowers launched from their landing-stairs come floating by the stream where we bathe. Baskets of dried _kusm_ flowers come from their fields to our market. The name of our village is Khanjan, and Anjan they call our river. My name is known to all the village, and her name is Ranjan. The lane that winds to their house is fragrant in the spring with mango flowers. When their linseed is ripe for harvest the hemp is in bloom in our field. The stars that smile on their cottage send us the same twinkling look. The rain that floods their tank makes glad our _kadam_ forest. The name of our village is Khanjan, and Anjan they call our river. My name is known to all the village, and her name is Ranjan. 18 When the two sisters go to fetch water, they come to this spot and they smile. They must be aware of somebody who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water. The two sisters whisper to each other when they pass this spot. They must have guessed the secret of that somebody who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water. Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and water spills when they reach this spot. They must have found out that somebody's heart is beating who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water. The two sisters glance at each other when they come to this spot, and they smile. There is a laughter in their swift-stepping feet, which makes confusion in somebody's mind who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water. 19 You walked by the riverside path with the full pitcher upon your hip. Why did you swiftly turn your face and peep at me through your fluttering veil? That gleaming look from the dark came upon me like a breeze that sends a shiver through the rippling water and sweeps away to the shadowy shore. It came to me like the bird of the evening that hurriedly flies across the lampless room from the one open window to the other, and disappears in the night. You are hidden as a star behind the hills, and I am a passer-by upon the road. But why did you stop for a moment and glance at my face through your veil while you walked by the riverside path with the full pitcher upon your hip? 20 Day after day he comes and goes away. Go, and give him a flower from my hair, my friend. If he asks who was it that sent it, I entreat you do not tell him my name--for he only comes and goes away. He sits on the dust under the tree. Spread there a seat with flowers and leaves, my friend. His eyes are sad, and they bring sadness to my heart. He does not speak what he has in mind; he only comes and goes away. 21 Why did he choose to come to my door, the wandering youth, when the day dawned? As I come in and out I pass by him every time, and my eyes are caught by his face. I know not if I should speak to him or keep silent. Why did he choose to come to my door? The cloudy nights in July are dark; the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the spring days are restless with the south wind. He weaves his songs with fresh tunes every time. I turn from my work and my eyes fill with the mist. Why did he choose to come to my door? 22 When she passed by me with quick steps, the end of her skirt touched me. From the unknown island of a heart came a sudden warm breath of spring. A flutter of a flitting touch brushed me and vanished in a moment, like a torn flower petal blown in the breeze. It fell upon my heart like a sigh of her body and whisper of her heart. 23 Why do you sit there and jingle your bracelets in mere idle sport? Fill your pitcher. It is time for you to come home. Why do you stir the water with your hands and fitfully glance at the road for some one in mere idle sport? Fill your pitcher and come home. The morning hours pass by--the dark water flows on. The waves are laughing and whispering to each other in mere idle sport. The wandering clouds have gathered at the edge of the sky on yonder rise of the land. They linger and look at your face and smile in mere idle sport. Fill your pitcher and come home. 24 Do not keep to yourself the secret of your heart, my friend! Say it to me, only to me, in secret. You who smile so gently, softly whisper, my heart will hear it, not my ears. The night is deep, the house is silent, the birds' nests are shrouded with sleep. Speak to me through hesitating tears, through faltering smiles, through sweet shame and pain, the secret of your heart! 25 "Come to us, youth, tell us truly why there is madness in your eyes?" "I know not what wine of wild poppy I have drunk, that there is this madness in my eyes." "Ah, shame!" "Well, some are wise and some foolish, some are watchful and some careless. There are eyes that smile and eyes that weep--and madness is in my eyes." "Youth, why do you stand so still under the shadow of the tree?" "My feet are languid with the burden of my heart, and I stand still in the shadow." "Ah, shame!" "Well, some march on their way and some linger, some are free and some are fettered--and my feet are languid with the burden of my heart." 26 "What comes from your willing hands I take. I beg for nothing more." "Yes, yes, I know you, modest mendicant, you ask for all that one has." "If there be a stray flower for me I will wear it in my heart." "But if there be thorns?" "I will endure them." "Yes, yes, I know you, modest mendicant, you ask for all that one has." "If but once you should raise your loving eyes to my face it would make my life sweet beyond death." "But if there by only cruel glances?" "I will keep them piercing my heart." "Yes, yes, I know you, modest mendicant, you ask for all that one has." 27 "Trust love even if it brings sorrow. Do not close up your heart." "Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them." "The heart is only for giving away with a tear and a song, my love." "Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them." "Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop, while it laughs it dies. But sorrow is strong and abiding. Let sorrowful love wake in your eyes." "Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them." "The lotus blooms in the sight of the sun, and loses all that it has. It would not remain in bud in the eternal winter mist." "Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them." 28 Your questioning eyes are sad. They seek to know my meaning as the moon would fathom the sea. I have bared my life before your eyes from end to end, with nothing hidden or held back. That is why you know me not. If it were only a gem I could break it into a hundred pieces and string them into a chain to put on your neck. If it were only a flower, round and small and sweet, I could pluck it from its stem to set it in your hair. But it is a heart, my beloved. Where are its shores and its bottom? You know not the limits of this kingdom, still you are its queen. If it were only a moment of pleasure it would flower in an easy smile, and you could see it and read it in a moment. If it were merely a pain it would melt in limpid tears, reflecting its inmost secret without a word. But it is love, my beloved. Its pleasure and pain are boundless, and endless its wants and wealth. It is as near to you as your life, but you can never wholly know it. 29 Speak to me, my love! Tell me in words what you sang. The night is dark. The stars are lost in clouds. The wind is sighing through the leaves. I will let loose my hair. My blue cloak will cling round me like night. I will clasp your head to my bosom; and there in the sweet loneliness murmur on your heart. I will shut my eyes and listen. I will not look in your face. When your words are ended, we will sit still and silent. Only the trees will whisper in the dark. The night will pale. The day will dawn. We shall look at each other's eyes and go on our different paths. Speak to me, my love! Tell me in words what you sang. 30 You are the evening cloud floating in the sky of my dreams. I paint you and fashion you ever with my love longings. You are my own, my own, Dweller in my endless dreams! Your feet are rosy-red with the glow of my heart's desire, Gleaner of my sunset songs! Your lips are bitter-sweet with the taste of my wine of pain. You are my own, my own, Dweller in my lonesome dreams! With the shadow of my passion have I darkened your eyes, Haunter of the depth of my gaze! I have caught you and wrapt you, my love, in the net of my music. You are my own, my own, Dweller in my deathless dreams! 31 My heart, the bird of the wilderness, has found its sky in your eyes. They are the cradle of the morning, they are the kingdom of the stars. My songs are lost in their depths. Let me but soar in that sky, in its lonely immensity. Let me but cleave its clouds and spread wings in its sunshine. 32 Tell me if this be all true, my lover, tell me if this be true. When these eyes flash their lightning the dark clouds in your breast make stormy answer. Is it true that my lips are sweet like the opening bud of the first conscious love? Do the memories of vanished months of May linger in my limbs? Does the earth, like a harp, shiver into songs with the touch of my feet? Is it then true that the dewdrops fall from the eyes of night when I am seen, and the morning light is glad when it wraps my body round? Is it true, is it true, that your love travelled alone through ages and worlds in search of me? That when you found me at last, your age-long desire found utter peace in my gentle speech and my eyes and lips and flowing hair? Is it then true that the mystery of the Infinite is written on this little forehead of mine? Tell me, my lover, if all this be true. 33 I love you, beloved. Forgive me my love. Like a bird losing its way I am caught. When my heart was shaken it lost its veil and was naked. Cover it with pity, beloved, and forgive me my love. If you cannot love me, beloved, forgive me my pain. Do not look askance at me from afar. I will steal back to my corner and sit in the dark. With both hands I will cover my naked shame. Turn your face from me, beloved, and forgive me my pain. If you love me, beloved, forgive me my joy. When my heart is borne away by the flood of happiness, do not smile at my perilous abandonment. When I sit on my throne and rule you with my tyranny of love, when like a goddess I grant you my favour, bear with my pride, beloved, and forgive me my joy. 34 Do not go, my love, without asking my leave. I have watched all night, and now my eyes are heavy with sleep. I fear lest I lose you when I am sleeping. Do not go, my love, without asking my leave. I start up and stretch my hands to touch you. I ask myself, "Is it a dream?" Could I but entangle your feet with my heart and hold them fast to my breast! Do not go, my love, without asking my leave. 35 Lest I should know you too easily, you play with me. You blind me with flashes of laughter to hide your tears. I know, I know your art. You never say the word you would. Lest I should not prize you, you elude me in a thousand ways. Lest I should confuse you with the crowd, you stand aside. I know, I know your art, You never walk the path you would. Your claim is more than that of others, that is why you are silent. With playful carelessness you avoid my gifts. I know, I know your art, You never will take what you would. 36 He whispered, "My love, raise your eyes." I sharply chid him, and said "Go!"; but he did not stir. He stood before me and held both my hands. I said, "Leave me!"; but he did not go. He brought his face near my ear. I glanced at him and said, "What a shame!"; but he did not move. His lips touched my cheek. I trembled and said, "You dare too much;" but he had no shame. He put a flower in my hair. I said, "It is useless!"; but he stood unmoved. He took the garland from my neck and went away. I weep and ask my heart, "Why does he not come back?" 37 Would you put your wreath of fresh flowers on my neck, fair one? But you must know that the one wreath that I had woven is for the many, for those who are seen in glimpses, or dwell in lands unexplored, or live in poets' songs. It is too late to ask my heart in return for yours. There was a time when my life was like a bud, all its perfume was stored in its core. Now it is squandered far and wide. Who knows the enchantment that can gather and shut it up again? My heart is not mine to give to one only, it is given to the many. 38 My love, once upon a time your poet launched a great epic in his mind. Alas, I was not careful, and it struck your ringing anklets and came to grief. It broke up into scraps of songs and lay scattered at your feet. All my cargo of the stories of old wars was tossed by the laughing waves and soaked in tears and sank. You must make this loss good to me, my love. If my claims to immortal fame after death are shattered, make me immortal while I live. And I will not mourn for my loss nor blame you. 39 I try to weave a wreath all the morning, but the flowers slip and they drop out. You sit there watching me in secret through the corner of your prying eyes. Ask those eyes, darkly planning mischief, whose fault it was. I try to sing a song, but in vain. A hidden smile trembles on your lips, ask of it the reason of my failure. Let your smiling lips say on oath how my voice lost itself in silence like a drunken bee in the lotus. It is evening, and the time for the flowers to close their petals. Give me leave to sit by your side, and bid my lips to do the work that can be done in silence and in the dim light of stars. 40 An unbelieving smile flits on your eyes when I come to you to take my leave. I have done it so often that you think I will soon return. To tell you the truth I have the same doubt in my mind. For the spring days come again time after time; the full moon takes leave and comes on another visit, the flowers come again and blush upon their branches year after year, and it is likely that I take my leave only to come to you again. But keep the illusion awhile; do not send it away with ungentle haste. When I say I leave you for all time, accept it as true, and let a mist of tears for one moment deepen the dark rim of your eyes. Then smile as archly as you like when I come again. 41 I long to speak the deepest words I have to say to you; but I dare not, for fear you should laugh. That is why I laugh at myself and shatter my secret in jest. I make light of my pain, afraid you should do so. I long to tell you the truest words I have to say to you; but I dare not, being afraid that you would not believe them. That is why I disguise them in untruth, saying the contrary of what I mean. I make my pain appear absurd, afraid that you should do so. I long to use the most precious words I have for you; but I dare not, fearing I should not be paid with like value. That is why I gave you hard names and boast of my callous strength. I hurt you, for fear you should never know any pain. I long to sit silent by you; but I dare not lest my heart come out at my lips. That is why I prattle and chatter lightly and hide my heart behind words. I rudely handle my pain, for fear you should do so. I long to go away from your side; but I dare not, for fear my cowardice should become known to you. That is why I hold my head high and carelessly come into your presence. Constant thrusts from your eyes keep my pain fresh for ever. 42 O mad, superbly drunk; If you kick open your doors and play the fool in public; If you empty your bag in a night, and snap your fingers at prudence; If you walk in curious paths and play with useless things; Reck not rhyme or reason; If unfurling your sails before the storm you snap the rudder in two, Then I will follow you, comrade, and be drunken and go to the dogs. I have wasted my days and nights in the company of steady wise neighbours. Much knowing has turned my hair grey, and much watching has made my sight dim. For years I have gathered and heaped up scraps and fragments of things; Crush them and dance upon them, and scatter them all to the winds. For I know 'tis the height of wisdom to be drunken and go to the dogs. Let all crooked scruples vanish, let me hopelessly lose my way. Let a gust of wild giddiness come and sweep me away from my anchors. The world is peopled with worthies, and workers, useful and clever. There are men who are easily first, and men who come decently after. Let them be happy and prosper, and let me be foolishly futile. For I know 'tis the end of all works to be drunken and go to the dogs. I swear to surrender this moment all claims to the ranks of the decent. I let go my pride of learning and judgment of right and of wrong. I'll shatter memory's vessel, scattering the last drop of tears. With the foam of the berry-red wine I will bathe and brighten my laughter. The badge of the civil and staid I'll tear into shreds for the nonce. I'll take the holy vow to be worthless, to be drunken and go to the dogs. 43 No, my friends, I shall never be an ascetic, whatever you may say. I shall never be an ascetic if she does not take the vow with me. It is my firm resolve that if I cannot find a shady shelter and a companion for my penance, I shall never turn ascetic. No, my friends, I shall never leave my hearth and home, and retire into the forest solitude, if rings no merry laughter in its echoing shade and if the end of no saffron mantle flutters in the wind; if its silence is not deepened by soft whispers. I shall never be an ascetic. 44 Reverend sir, forgive this pair of sinners. Spring winds to-day are blowing in wild eddies, driving dust and dead leaves away, and with them your lessons are all lost. Do not say, father, that life is a vanity. For we have made truce with death for once, and only for a few fragrant hours we two have been made immortal. Even if the king's army came and fiercely fell upon us we should sadly shake our heads and say, Brothers, you are disturbing us. If you must have this noisy game, go and clatter your arms elsewhere. Since only for a few fleeting moments we have been made immortal. If friendly people came and flocked around us, we should humbly bow to them and say, This extravagant good fortune is an embarrassment to us. Room is scarce in the infinite sky where we dwell. For in the springtime flowers come in crowds, and the busy wings of bees jostle each other. Our little heaven, where dwell only we two immortals, is too absurdly narrow. 45 To the guests that must go bid God's speed and brush away all traces of their steps. Take to your bosom with a smile what is easy and simple and near. To-day is the festival of phantoms that know not when they die. Let your laughter be but a meaningless mirth like twinkles of light on the ripples. Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf. Strike in chords from your harp fitful momentary rhythms. 46 You left me and went on your way. I thought I should mourn for you and set your solitary image in my heart wrought in a golden song. But ah, my evil fortune, time is short. Youth wanes year after year; the spring days are fugitive; the frail flowers die for nothing, and the wise man warns me that life is but a dew-drop on the lotus leaf. Should I neglect all this to gaze after one who has turned her back on me? That would be rude and foolish, for time is short. Then, come, my rainy nights with pattering feet; smile, my golden autumn; come, careless April, scattering your kisses abroad. You come, and you, and you also! My loves, you know we are mortals. Is it wise to break one's heart for the one who takes her heart away? For time is short. It is sweet to sit in a corner to muse and write in rhymes that you are all my world. It is heroic to hug one's sorrow and determine not to be consoled. But a fresh face peeps across my door and raises its eyes to my eyes. I cannot but wipe away my tears and change the tune of my song. For time is short. 47 If you would have it so, I will end my singing. If it sets your heart aflutter, I will take away my eyes from your face. If it suddenly startles you in your walk, I will step aside and take another path. If it confuses you in your flower-weaving, I will shun your lonely garden. If it makes the water wanton and wild, I will not row my boat by your bank. 48 Free me from the bonds of your sweetness, my love! No more of this wine of kisses. This mist of heavy incense stifles my heart. Open the doors, make room for the morning light. I am lost in you, wrapped in the folds of your caresses. Free me from your spells, and give me back the manhood to offer you my freed heart. 49 I hold her hands and press her to my breast. I try to fill my arms with her loveliness, to plunder her sweet smile with kisses, to drink her dark glances with my eyes. Ah, but, where is it? Who can strain the blue from the sky? I try to grasp the beauty, it eludes me, leaving only the body in my hands. Baffled and weary I come back. How can the body touch the flower which only the spirit may touch? 50 Love, my heart longs day and night for the meeting with you--for the meeting that is like all-devouring death. Sweep me away like a storm; take everything I have; break open my sleep and plunder my dreams. Rob me of my world. In that devastation, in the utter nakedness of spirit, let us become one in beauty. Alas for my vain desire! Where is this hope for union except in thee, my God? 51 Then finish the last song and let us leave. Forget this night when the night is no more. Whom do I try to clasp in my arms? Dreams can never be made captive. My eager hands press emptiness to my heart and it bruises my breast. 52 Why did the lamp go out? I shaded it with my cloak to save it from the wind, that is why the lamp went out. Why did the flower fade? I pressed it to my heart with anxious love, that is why the flower faded. Why did the stream dry up? I put a dam across it to have it for my use, that is why the stream dried up. Why did the harp-string break? I tried to force a note that was beyond its power, that is why the harp-string is broken. 53 Why do you put me to shame with a look? I have not come as a beggar. Only for a passing hour I stood at the end of your courtyard outside the garden hedge. Why do you put me to shame with a look? Not a rose did I gather from your garden, not a fruit did I pluck. I humbly took my shelter under the wayside shade where every strange traveller may stand. Not a rose did I pluck. Yes, my feet were tired, and the shower of rain come down. The winds cried out among the swaying bamboo branches. The clouds ran across the sky as though in the flight from defeat. My feet were tired. I know not what you thought of me or for whom you were waiting at your door. Flashes of lightning dazzled your watching eyes. How could I know that you could see me where I stood in the dark? I know not what you thought of me. The day is ended, and the rain has ceased for a moment. I leave the shadow of the tree at the end of your garden and this seat on the grass. It has darkened; shut your door; I go my way. The day is ended. 54 Where do you hurry with your basket this late evening when the marketing is over? They all have come home with their burdens; the moon peeps from above the village trees. The echoes of the voices calling for the ferry run across the dark water to the distant swamp where wild ducks sleep. Where do you hurry with your basket when the marketing is over? Sleep has laid her fingers upon the eyes of the earth. The nests of the crows have become silent, and the murmurs of the bamboo leaves are silent. The labourers home from their fields spread their mats in the courtyards. Where do you hurry with your basket when the marketing is over? 55 It was mid-day when you went away. The sun was strong in the sky. I had done my work and sat alone on my balcony when you went away. Fitful gusts came winnowing through the smells of many distant fields. The doves cooed tireless in the shade, and a bee strayed in my room humming the news of many distant fields. The village slept in the noonday heat. The road lay deserted. In sudden fits the rustling of the leaves rose and died. I glazed at the sky and wove in the blue the letters of a name I had known, while the village slept in the noonday heat. I had forgotten to braid my hair. The languid breeze played with it upon my cheek. The river ran unruffled under the shady bank. The lazy white clouds did not move. I had forgotten to braid my hair. It was mid-day when you went away. The dust of the road was hot and the fields panting. The doves cooed among the dense leaves. I was alone in my balcony when you went away. 56 I was one among many women busy with the obscure daily tasks of the household. Why did you single me out and bring me away from the cool shelter of our common life? Love unexpressed in sacred. It shines like gems in the gloom of the hidden heart. In the light of the curious day it looks pitifully dark. Ah, you broke through the cover of my heart and dragged my trembling love into the open place, destroying for ever the shady corner where it hid its nest. The other women are the same as ever. No one has peeped into their inmost being, and they themselves know not their own secret. Lightly they smile, and weep, chatter, and work. Daily they go to the temple, light their lamps, and fetch water from the river. I hoped my love would be saved from the shivering shame of the shelterless, but you turn your face away. Yes, your path lies open before you, but you have cut off my return, and left me stripped naked before the world with its lidless eyes staring night and day. 57 I plucked your flower, O world! I pressed it to my heart and the thorn pricked. When the day waned and it darkened, I found that the flower had faded, but the pain remained. More flowers will come to you with perfume and pride, O world! But my time for flower-gathering is over, and through the dark night I have not my rose, only the pain remains. 58 One morning in the flower garden a blind girl came to offer me a flower chain in the cover of a lotus leaf. I put it round my neck, and tears came to my eyes. I kissed her and said, "You are blind even as the flowers are. You yourself know not how beautiful is your gift." 59 O woman, you are not merely the handiwork of God, but also of men; these are ever endowing you with beauty from their hearts. Poets are weaving for you a web with threads of golden imagery; painters are giving your form ever new immortality. The sea gives its pearls, the mines their gold, the summer gardens their flowers to deck you, to cover you, to make you more precious. The desire of men's hearts has shed its glory over your youth. You are one half woman and one half dream. 60 Amidst the rush and roar of life, O Beauty, carved in stone, you stand mute and still, alone and aloof. Great Time sits enamoured at your feet and murmurs: "Speak, speak to me, my love; speak, my bride!" But your speech is shut up in stone, O Immovable Beauty! 61 Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet. Let it not be a death but completeness. Let love melt into memory and pain into songs. Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest. Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night. Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence. I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way. 62 In the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life. Her house stood at the end of a desolate street. In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner. She set her lamp down by the portal and stood before me. She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked, "Are you well, my friend?" I tried to answer, but our language had been lost and forgotten. I thought and thought; our names would not come to my mind. Tears shone in her eyes. She held up her right hand to me. I took it and stood silent. Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze and died. 63 Traveller, must you go? The night is still and the darkness swoons upon the forest. The lamps are bright in our balcony, the flowers all fresh, and the youthful eyes still awake. Is the time for your parting come? Traveller, must you go? We have not bound your feet with our entreating arms. Your doors are open. Your horse stands saddled at the gate. If we have tried to bar your passage it was but with our songs. Did we ever try to hold you back it was but with our eyes. Traveller, we are helpless to keep you. We have only our tears. What quenchless fire glows in your eyes? What restless fever runs in your blood? What call from the dark urges you? What awful incantation have you read among the stars in the sky, that with a sealed secret message the night entered your heart, silent and strange? If you do not care for merry meetings, if you must have peace, weary heart, we shall put our lamps out and silence our harps. We shall sit still in the dark in the rustle of leaves, and the tired moon will shed pale rays on your window. O traveller, what sleepless spirit has touched you from the heart of the mid-night? 64 I spent my day on the scorching hot dust of the road. Now, in the cool of the evening, I knock at the door of the inn. It is deserted and in ruins. A grim _ashath_ tree spreads its hungry clutching roots through the gaping fissures of the walls. Days have been when wayfarers came here to wash their weary feet. They spread their mats in the courtyard in the dim light of the early moon, and sat and talked of strange lands. They work refreshed in the morning when birds made them glad, and friendly flowers nodded their heads at them from the wayside. But no lighted lamp awaited me when I came here. The black smudges of smoke left by many a forgotten evening lamp stare, like blind eyes, from the wall. Fireflies flit in the bush near the dried-up pond, and bamboo branches fling their shadows on the grass-grown path. I am the guest of no one at the end of my day. The long night is before me, and I am tired. 65 Is that your call again? The evening has come. Weariness clings around me like the arms of entreating love. Do you call me? I had given all my day to you, cruel mistress, must you also rob me of my night? Somewhere there is an end to everything, and the loneness of the dark is one's own. Must your voice cut through it and smite me? Has the evening no music of sleep at your gate? Do the silent-winged stars never climb the sky above your pitiless tower? Do the flowers never drop on the dust in soft death in your garden? Must you call me, you unquiet one? Then let the sad eyes of love vainly watch and weep. Let the lamp burn in the lonely house. Let the ferry-boat take the weary labourers to their home. I leave behind my dreams and I hasten to your call. 66 A wandering madman was seeking the touchstone, with matted locks tawny and dust-laden, and body worn to a shadow, his lips tight-pressed, like the shut-up doors of his heart, his burning eyes like the lamp of a glow-worm seeking its mate. Before him the endless ocean roared. The garrulous waves ceaselessly talked of hidden treasures, mocking the ignorance that knew not their meaning. Maybe he now had no hope remaining, yet he would not rest, for the search had become his life,-- Just as the ocean for ever lifts its arms to the sky for the unattainable-- Just as the stars go in circles, yet seeking a goal that can never be reached-- Even so on the lonely shore the madman with dusty tawny locks still roamed in search of the touchstone. One day a village boy came up and asked, "Tell me, where did you come at this golden chain about your waist?" The madman started--the chain that once was iron was verily gold; it was not a dream, but he did not know when it had changed. He struck his forehead wildly--where, O where had he without knowing it achieved success? It had grown into a habit, to pick up pebbles and touch the chain, and to throw them away without looking to see if a change had come; thus the madman found and lost the touchstone. The sun was sinking low in the west, the sky was of gold. The madman returned on his footsteps to seek anew the lost treasure, with his strength gone, his body bent, and his heart in the dust, like a tree uprooted. 67 Though the evening comes with slow steps and has signalled for all songs to cease; Though your companions have gone to their rest and you are tired; Though fear broods in the dark and the face of the sky is veiled; Yet, bird, O my bird, listen to me, do not close your wings. That is not the gloom of the leaves of the forest, that is the sea swelling like a dark black snake. That is not the dance of the flowering jasmine, that is flashing foam. Ah, where is the sunny green shore, where is your nest? Bird, O my bird, listen to me, do not close your wings. The lone night lies along your path, the dawn sleeps behind the shadowy hills. The stars hold their breath counting the hours, the feeble moon swims the deep night. Bird, O my bird, listen to me, do not close your wings. There is no hope, no fear for you. There is no word, no whisper, no cry. There is no home, no bed for rest. There is only your own pair of wings and the pathless sky. Bird, O my bird, listen to me, do not close your wings. 68 None lives for ever, brother, and nothing lasts for long. Keep that in mind and rejoice. Our life is not the one old burden, our path is not the one long journey. One sole poet has not to sing one aged song. The flower fades and dies; but he who wears the flower has not to mourn for it for ever. Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice. There must come a full pause to weave perfection into music. Life droops toward its sunset to be drowned in the golden shadows. Love must be called from its play to drink sorrow and be borne to the heaven of tears. Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice. We hasten to gather our flowers lest they are plundered by the passing winds. It quickens our blood and brightens our eyes to snatch kisses that would vanish if we delayed. Our life is eager, our desires are keen, for time tolls the bell of parting. Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice. There is not time for us to clasp a thing and crush it and fling it away to the dust. The hours trip rapidly away, hiding their dreams in their skirts. Our life is short; it yields but a few days for love. Were it for work and drudgery it would be endlessly long. Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice. Beauty is sweet to us, because she dances to the same fleeting tune with our lives. Knowledge is precious to us, because we shall never have time to complete it. All is done and finished in the eternal Heaven. But earth's flowers of illusion are kept eternally fresh by death. Brother, keep that in mind and rejoice. 69 I hunt for the golden stag. You may smile, my friends, but I pursue the vision that eludes me. I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands, because I am hunting for the golden stag. You come and buy in the market and go back to your homes laden with goods, but the spell of the homeless winds has touched me I know not when and where. I have no care in my heart; all my belongings I have left far behind me. I run across hills and dales, I wander through nameless lands-- because I am hunting for the golden stag. 70 I remember a day in my childhood I floated a paper boat in the ditch. It was a wet day of July; I was alone and happy over my play. I floated my paper boat in the ditch. Suddenly the storm clouds thickened, winds came in gusts, and rain poured in torrents. Rills of muddy water rushed and swelled the stream and sunk my boat. Bitterly I thought in my mind that the storm came on purpose to spoil my happiness; all its malice was against me. The cloudy day of July is long today, and I have been musing over all those games in life wherein I was loser. I was blaming my fate for the many tricks it played on me, when suddenly I remembered the paper boat that sank in the ditch. 71 The day is not yet done, the fair is not over, the fair on the river-bank. I had feared that my time had been squandered and my last penny lost. But no, my brother, I have still something left. My fate has not cheated me of everything. The selling and buying are over. All the dues on both sides have been gathered in, and it is time for me to go home. But, gatekeeper, do you ask for your toll? Do not fear, I have still something left. My fate has not cheated me of everything. The lull in the wind threatens storm, and the lowering clouds in the west bode no good. The hushed water waits for the wind. I hurry to cross the river before the night overtakes me. O ferryman, you want your fee! Yes, brother, I have still something left. My fate has not cheated me of everything. In the wayside under the tree sits the beggar. Alas, he looks at my face with a timid hope! He thinks I am rich with the day's profit. Yes, brother, I have still something left. My fate has not cheated me of everything. The night grows dark and the road lonely. Fireflies gleam among the leaves. Who are you that follow me with stealthy silent steps? Ah, I know, it is your desire to rob me of all my gains. I will not disappoint you! For I still have something left, and my fate has not cheated me of everything. At midnight I reach home. My hands are empty. You are waiting with anxious eyes at my door, sleepless and silent. Like a timorous bird you fly to my breast with eager love. Ay, ay, my God, much remains still. My fate has not cheated me of everything. 72 With days of hard travail I raised a temple. It had no doors or windows, its walls were thickly built with massive stones. I forgot all else, I shunned all the world, I gazed in rapt contemplation at the image I had set upon the altar. It was always night inside, and lit by the lamps of perfumed oil. The ceaseless smoke of incense wound my heart in its heavy coils. Sleepless, I carved on the walls fantastic figures in mazy bewildering lines--winged horses, flowers with human faces, women with limbs like serpents. No passage was left anywhere through which could enter the song of birds, the murmur of leaves or hum of the busy village. The only sound that echoed in its dark dome was that of incantations which I chanted. My mind became keen and still like a pointed flame, my senses swooned in ecstasy. I knew not how time passed till the thunderstone had struck the temple, and a pain stung me through the heart. The lamp looked pale and ashamed; the carvings on the walls, like chained dreams, stared meaningless in the light as they would fain hide themselves. I looked at the image on the altar. I saw it smiling and alive with the living touch of God. The night I had imprisoned had spread its wings and vanished. 73 Infinite wealth is not yours, my patient and dusky mother dust! You toil to fill the mouths of your children, but food is scarce. The gift of gladness that you have for us is never perfect. The toys that you make for your children are fragile. You cannot satisfy all our hungry hopes, but should I desert you for that? Your smile which is shadowed with pain is sweet to my eyes. Your love which knows not fulfilment is dear to my heart. From your breast you have fed us with life but not immortality, that is why your eyes are ever wakeful. For ages you are working with colour and song, yet your heaven is not built, but only its sad suggestion. Over your creations of beauty there is the mist of tears. I will pour my songs into your mute heart, and my love into your love. I will worship you with labour. I have seen your tender face and I love your mournful dust, Mother Earth. 74 In the world's audience hall, the simple blade of grass sits on the same carpet with the sunbeam and the stars of midnight. Thus my songs share their seats in the heart of the world with the music of the clouds and forests. But, you man of riches, your wealth has no part in the simple grandeur of the sun's glad gold and the mellow gleam of the musing moon. The blessing of all-embracing sky is not shed upon it. And when death appears, it pales and withers and crumbles into dust. 75 At midnight the would-be ascetic announced: "This is the time to give up my home and seek for God. Ah, who has held me so long in delusion here?" God whispered, "I," but the ears of the man were stopped. With a baby asleep at her breast lay his wife, peacefully sleeping on one side of the bed. The man said, "Who are ye that have fooled me so long?" The voice said again, "They are God," but he heard it not. The baby cried out in its dream, nestling close to its mother. God commanded, "Stop, fool, leave not thy home," but still he heard not. God sighed and complained, "Why does my servant wander to seek me, forsaking me?" 76 The fair was on before the temple. It had rained from the early morning and the day came to its end. Brighter than all the gladness of the crowd was the bright smile of a girl who bought for a farthing a whistle of palm leaf. The shrill joy of that whistle floated above all laughter and noise. An endless throng of people came and jostled together. The road was muddy, the river in flood, the field under water in ceaseless rain. Greater than all the troubles of the crowd was a little boy's trouble--he had not a farthing to buy a painted stick. His wistful eyes gazing at the shop made this whole meeting of men so pitiful. 77 The workman and his wife from the west country are busy digging to make bricks for the kiln. Their little daughter goes to the landing-place by the river; there she has no end of scouring and scrubbing of pots and pans. Her little brother, with shaven head and brown, naked, mud- covered limbs, follows after her and waits patiently on the high bank at her bidding. She goes back home with the full pitcher poised on her head, the shining brass pot in her left hand, holding the child with her right--she the tiny servant of her mother, grave with the weight of the household cares. One day I saw this naked boy sitting with legs outstretched. In the water his sister sat rubbing a drinking-pot with a handful of earth, turning it round and round. Near by a soft-haired lamb stood gazing along the bank. It came close to where the boy sat and suddenly bleated aloud, and the child started up and screamed. His sister left off cleaning her pot and ran up. She took up her brother in one arm and the lamb in the other, and dividing her caresses between them bound in one bond of affection the offspring of beast and man. 78 It was in May. The sultry noon seemed endlessly long. The dry earth gaped with thirst in the heat. When I heard from the riverside a voice calling, "Come, my darling!" I shut my book and opened the window to look out. I saw a big buffalo with mud-stained hide, standing near the river with placid, patient eyes; and a youth, knee deep in water, calling it to its bath. I smiled amused and felt a touch of sweetness in my heart. 79 I often wonder where lie hidden the boundaries of recognition between man and the beast whose heart knows no spoken language. Through what primal paradise in a remote morning of creation ran the simple path by which their hearts visited each other. Those marks of their constant tread have not been effaced though their kinship has been long forgotten. Yet suddenly in some wordless music the dim memory wakes up and the beast gazes into the man's face with a tender trust, and the man looks down into its eyes with amused affection. It seems that the two friends meet masked and vaguely know each other through the disguise. 80 With a glance of your eyes you could plunder all the wealth of songs struck from poets' harps, fair woman! But for their praises you have no ear, therefore I come to praise you. You could humble at your feet the proudest heads in the world. But it is your loved ones, unknown to fame, whom you choose to worship, therefore I worship you. The perfection of your arms would add glory to kingly splendour with their touch. But you use them to sweep away the dust, and to make clean your humble home, therefore I am filled with awe. 81 Why do you whisper so faintly in my ears, O Death, my Death? When the flowers droop in the evening and cattle come back to their stalls, you stealthily come to my side and speak words that I do not understand. Is this how you must woo and win me with the opiate of drowsy murmur and cold kisses, O Death, my Death? Will there be no proud ceremony for our wedding? Will you not tie up with a wreath your tawny coiled locks? Is there none to carry your banner before you, and will not the night be on fire with your red torch-lights, O Death, my Death? Come with your conch-shells sounding, come in the sleepless night. Dress me with a crimson mantle, grasp my hand and take me. Let your chariot be ready at my door with your horses neighing impatiently. Raise my veil and look at my face proudly, O Death, my Death! 82 We are to play the game of death to-night, my bride and I. The night is black, the clouds in the sky are capricious, and the waves are raving at sea. We have left our bed of dreams, flung open the door and come out, my bride and I. We sit upon a swing, and the storm winds give us a wild push from behind. My bride starts up with fear and delight, she trembles and clings to my breast. Long have I served her tenderly. I made for her a bed of flowers and I closed the doors to shut out the rude light from her eyes. I kissed her gently on her lips and whispered softly in her ears till she half swooned in languor. She was lost in the endless mist of vague sweetness. She answered not to my touch, my songs failed to arouse her. To-night has come to us the call of the storm from the wild. My bride has shivered and stood up, she has clasped my hand and come out. Her hair is flying in the wind, her veil is fluttering, her garland rustles over her breast. The push of death has swung her into life. We are face to face and heart to heart, my bride and I. 83 She dwelt on the hillside by the edge of a maize-field, near the spring that flows in laughing rills through the solemn shadows of ancient trees. The women came there to fill their jars, and travellers would sit there to rest and talk. She worked and dreamed daily to the tune of the bubbling stream. One evening the stranger came down from the cloud-hidden peak; his locks were tangled like drowsy snakes. We asked in wonder, "Who are you?" He answered not but sat by the garrulous stream and silently gazed at the hut where she dwelt. Our hearts quaked in fear and we came back home when it was night. Next morning when the women came to fetch water at the spring by the _deodar_ trees, they found the doors open in her hut, but her voice was gone and where was her smiling face? The empty jar lay on the floor and her lamp had burnt itself out in the corner. No one knew where she had fled to before it was morning--and the stranger had gone. In the month of May the sun grew strong and the snow melted, and we sat by the spring and wept. We wondered in our mind, "Is there a spring in the land where she has gone and where she can fill her vessel in these hot thirsty days?" And we asked each other in dismay, "Is there a land beyond these hills where we live?" It was a summer night; the breeze blew from the south; and I sat in her deserted room where the lamp stood still unlit. When suddenly from before my eyes the hills vanished like curtains drawn aside. "Ah, it is she who comes. How are you, my child? Are you happy? But where can you shelter under this open sky? And, alas, our spring is not here to allay your thirst." "Here is the same sky," she said, "only free from the fencing hills,--this is the same stream grown into a river,--the same earth widened into a plain." "Everything is here," I sighed, "only we are not." She smiled sadly and said, "You are in my heart." I woke up and heard the babbling of the stream and the rustling of the _deodars_ at night. 84 Over the green and yellow rice-fields sweep the shadows of the autumn clouds followed by the swift chasing sun. The bees forget to sip their honey; drunken with light they foolishly hover and hum. The ducks in the islands of the river clamour in joy for mere nothing. Let none go back home, brothers, this morning, let none go to work. Let us take the blue sky by storm and plunder space as we run. Laughter floats in the air like foam on the flood. Brothers, let us squander our morning in futile songs. 85 Who are you, reader, reading my poems an hundred years hence? I cannot send you one single flower from this wealth of the spring, one single streak of gold from yonder clouds. Open your doors and look abroad. From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories of the vanished flowers of an hundred years before. In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy that sang one spring morning, sending its glad voice across an hundred years. INDEX OF FIRST WORDS No. A wandering madman was seeking the touchstone 66 Ah me, why did they build my house 4 Ah, poet, the evening draws near 2 Amidst the rush and roar of life 60 An unbelieving smile flits on your eyes 40 At midnight the would-be ascetic announced 75 Come as you are; do not loiter over your toilet 11 Come to us, youth, tell us truly 25 Day after day he comes and goes away 20 Do not go, my love, without asking my leave 34 Do not keep to yourself the secret of your heart, my friend 24 Free me from the bonds of your sweetness, my love 48 Hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes 16 Have mercy upon your servant, my queen 1 He whispered, "My love, raise your eyes" 36 I am restless 5 I asked nothing, only stood at the edge of the wood 13 I hold her hands and press her to my breast 49 I hunt for the golden stag 69 I long to speak the deepest words 41 I love you, beloved 33 I often wonder where lie hidden 79 I plucked your flower, O world 57 I remember a day in my childhood 70 I run as a musk-deer runs in the shadow of the forest 15 I spent my day on the scorching hot dust of the road 64 I try to weave a wreath all the morning 39 I was one among many women 56 I was walking by the road, I do not know why 14 If you would be busy and fill your pitcher, come 12 If you would have it so, I will end my singing 47 In the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love 62 In the morning I cast my net into the sea 3 In the world's audience hall 74 Infinite wealth is not yours 73 Is that your call again 65 It was in May 78 It was mid-day when you want away 55 Lest I should know you too easily, you play with me 35 Let your work be, bride 10 Love, my heart longs day and night 50 My heart, the bird of the wilderness 31 My love, once upon a time your poet launched a great epic 38 No, my friends, I shall never be an ascetic 43 None lives for ever, brother 68 O mad, superbly drunk 42 O mother, the young Prince is to pass by our door 7 O woman, you are not merely the handiwork of God 59 One morning in the flower garden a blind girl came 58 Over the green and yellow rice-fields 84 Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet 61 Reverend sir, forgive this pair of sinners 44 She dwelt on the hillside 83 Speak to me, my love 29 Tell me if this be all true, my lover 32 The day is not yet done, the fair is not over 71 The fair was on before the temple 76 The tame bird was in a cage 6 The workman and his wife from the west country 77 The yellow bird sings in their tree 17 Then finish the last song and let us leave 51 Though the evening comes with slow steps 67 To the guests that must go bid God's speed 45 Traveller, must you go 63 Trust love even if it brings sorrow 27 We are to play the game of death to-night 82 What comes from your willing hands I take 26 When I go alone at night to my love-tryst 9 When she passed by me with quick steps 22 When the lamp went out by my bed 8 When the two sisters go to fetch water 18 Where do you hurry with your basket 54 Who are you, reader, reading my poems 85 Why did he choose to come to my door 21 Why did the lamp go out 52 Why do you put me to shame with a look 53 Why do you sit there and jingle your bracelets 23 Why do you whisper so faintly in my ears 81 With a glance of your eyes you could plunder 80 With days of hard travail I raised a temple 72 Would you put your wreath of fresh flowers on my neck 37 You are the evening cloud floating in the sky of my dreams 30 You left me and went on your way 46 You walked by the riverside path 19 Your questioning eyes are sad 28 
7164	----	B. Hare. This eBook was produced by Chetan Jain, Viswas G and Anand Rao at Bharat Literature The Gitanjali or 'song offerings' by Rabindranath Tagore (1861--1941), Nobel prize for literature 1913, with an introduction by William B. Yeats (1865--1939), Nobel prize for literature 1923. First published in 1913. This work is in public domain according to the Berne convention since January 1st 1992. RABINDRANATH TAGORE GITANJALI Song Offerings A collection of prose translations made by the author from the original Bengali With an introduction by W. B. YEATS to WILLIAM ROTHENSTEIN INTRODUCTION A few days ago I said to a distinguished Bengali doctor of medicine, 'I know no German, yet if a translation of a German poet had moved me, I would go to the British Museum and find books in English that would tell me something of his life, and of the history of his thought. But though these prose translations from Rabindranath Tagore have stirred my blood as nothing has for years, I shall not know anything of his life, and of the movements of thought that have made them possible, if some Indian traveller will not tell me.' It seemed to him natural that I should be moved, for he said, 'I read Rabindranath every day, to read one line of his is to forget all the troubles of the world.' I said, 'An Englishman living in London in the reign of Richard the Second had he been shown translations from Petrarch or from Dante, would have found no books to answer his questions, but would have questioned some Florentine banker or Lombard merchant as I question you. For all I know, so abundant and simple is this poetry, the new renaissance has been born in your country and I shall never know of it except by hearsay.' He answered, 'We have other poets, but none that are his equal; we call this the epoch of Rabindranath. No poet seems to me as famous in Europe as he is among us. He is as great in music as in poetry, and his songs are sung from the west of India into Burma wherever Bengali is spoken. He was already famous at nineteen when he wrote his first novel; and plays when he was but little older, are still played in Calcutta. I so much admire the completeness of his life; when he was very young he wrote much of natural objects, he would sit all day in his garden; from his twenty-fifth year or so to his thirty-fifth perhaps, when he had a great sorrow, he wrote the most beautiful love poetry in our language'; and then he said with deep emotion, 'words can never express what I owed at seventeen to his love poetry. After that his art grew deeper, it became religious and philosophical; all the inspiration of mankind are in his hymns. He is the first among our saints who has not refused to live, but has spoken out of Life itself, and that is why we give him our love.' I may have changed his well-chosen words in my memory but not his thought. 'A little while ago he was to read divine service in one of our churches--we of the Brahma Samaj use your word 'church' in English--it was the largest in Calcutta and not only was it crowded, but the streets were all but impassable because of the people.' Other Indians came to see me and their reverence for this man sounded strange in our world, where we hide great and little things under the same veil of obvious comedy and half-serious depreciation. When we were making the cathedrals had we a like reverence for our great men? 'Every morning at three--I know, for I have seen it'--one said to me, 'he sits immovable in contemplation, and for two hours does not awake from his reverie upon the nature of God. His father, the Maha Rishi, would sometimes sit there all through the next day; once, upon a river, he fell into contemplation because of the beauty of the landscape, and the rowers waited for eight hours before they could continue their journey.' He then told me of Mr. Tagore's family and how for generations great men have come out of its cradles. 'Today,' he said, 'there are Gogonendranath and Abanindranath Tagore, who are artists; and Dwijendranath, Rabindranath's brother, who is a great philosopher. The squirrels come from the boughs and climb on to his knees and the birds alight upon his hands.' I notice in these men's thought a sense of visible beauty and meaning as though they held that doctrine of Nietzsche that we must not believe in the moral or intellectual beauty which does not sooner or later impress itself upon physical things. I said, 'In the East you know how to keep a family illustrious. The other day the curator of a museum pointed out to me a little dark-skinned man who was arranging their Chinese prints and said, ''That is the hereditary connoisseur of the Mikado, he is the fourteenth of his family to hold the post.'' 'He answered, 'When Rabindranath was a boy he had all round him in his home literature and music.' I thought of the abundance, of the simplicity of the poems, and said, 'In your country is there much propagandist writing, much criticism? We have to do so much, especially in my own country, that our minds gradually cease to be creative, and yet we cannot help it. If our life was not a continual warfare, we would not have taste, we would not know what is good, we would not find hearers and readers. Four-fifths of our energy is spent in the quarrel with bad taste, whether in our own minds or in the minds of others.' 'I understand,' he replied, 'we too have our propagandist writing. In the villages they recite long mythological poems adapted from the Sanskrit in the Middle Ages, and they often insert passages telling the people that they must do their duties.' I have carried the manuscript of these translations about with me for days, reading it in railway trains, or on the top of omnibuses and in restaurants, and I have often had to close it lest some stranger would see how much it moved me. These lyrics-- which are in the original, my Indians tell me, full of subtlety of rhythm, of untranslatable delicacies of colour, of metrical invention--display in their thought a world I have dreamed of all my live long. The work of a supreme culture, they yet appear as much the growth of the common soil as the grass and the rushes. A tradition, where poetry and religion are the same thing, has passed through the centuries, gathering from learned and unlearned metaphor and emotion, and carried back again to the multitude the thought of the scholar and of the noble. If the civilization of Bengal remains unbroken, if that common mind which--as one divines--runs through all, is not, as with us, broken into a dozen minds that know nothing of each other, something even of what is most subtle in these verses will have come, in a few generations, to the beggar on the roads. When there was but one mind in England, Chaucer wrote his _Troilus and Cressida_, and thought he had written to be read, or to be read out--for our time was coming on apace--he was sung by minstrels for a while. Rabindranath Tagore, like Chaucer's forerunners, writes music for his words, and one understands at every moment that he is so abundant, so spontaneous, so daring in his passion, so full of surprise, because he is doing something which has never seemed strange, unnatural, or in need of defence. These verses will not lie in little well-printed books upon ladies' tables, who turn the pages with indolent hands that they may sigh over a life without meaning, which is yet all they can know of life, or be carried by students at the university to be laid aside when the work of life begins, but, as the generations pass, travellers will hum them on the highway and men rowing upon the rivers. Lovers, while they await one another, shall find, in murmuring them, this love of God a magic gulf wherein their own more bitter passion may bathe and renew its youth. At every moment the heart of this poet flows outward to these without derogation or condescension, for it has known that they will understand; and it has filled itself with the circumstance of their lives. The traveller in the read-brown clothes that he wears that dust may not show upon him, the girl searching in her bed for the petals fallen from the wreath of her royal lover, the servant or the bride awaiting the master's home-coming in the empty house, are images of the heart turning to God. Flowers and rivers, the blowing of conch shells, the heavy rain of the Indian July, or the moods of that heart in union or in separation; and a man sitting in a boat upon a river playing lute, like one of those figures full of mysterious meaning in a Chinese picture, is God Himself. A whole people, a whole civilization, immeasurably strange to us, seems to have been taken up into this imagination; and yet we are not moved because of its strangeness, but because we have met our own image, as though we had walked in Rossetti's willow wood, or heard, perhaps for the first time in literature, our voice as in a dream. Since the Renaissance the writing of European saints--however familiar their metaphor and the general structure of their thought--has ceased to hold our attention. We know that we must at last forsake the world, and we are accustomed in moments of weariness or exaltation to consider a voluntary forsaking; but how can we, who have read so much poetry, seen so many paintings, listened to so much music, where the cry of the flesh and the cry of the soul seems one, forsake it harshly and rudely? What have we in common with St. Bernard covering his eyes that they may not dwell upon the beauty of the lakes of Switzerland, or with the violent rhetoric of the Book of Revelations? We would, if we might, find, as in this book, words full of courtesy. 'I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure. Here I give back the keys of my door--and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you. We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.' And it is our own mood, when it is furthest from 'a Kempis or John of the Cross, that cries, 'And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.' Yet it is not only in our thoughts of the parting that this book fathoms all. We had not known that we loved God, hardly it may be that we believed in Him; yet looking backward upon our life we discover, in our exploration of the pathways of woods, in our delight in the lonely places of hills, in that mysterious claim that we have made, unavailingly on the woman that we have loved, the emotion that created this insidious sweetness. 'Entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment.' This is no longer the sanctity of the cell and of the scourge; being but a lifting up, as it were, into a greater intensity of the mood of the painter, painting the dust and the sunlight, and we go for a like voice to St. Francis and to William Blake who have seemed so alien in our violent history. We write long books where no page perhaps has any quality to make writing a pleasure, being confident in some general design, just as we fight and make money and fill our heads with politics--all dull things in the doing--while Mr. Tagore, like the Indian civilization itself, has been content to discover the soul and surrender himself to its spontaneity. He often seems to contrast life with that of those who have loved more after our fashion, and have more seeming weight in the world, and always humbly as though he were only sure his way is best for him: 'Men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame. I sit like a beggar maid, drawing my skirt over my face, and when they ask me, what it is I want, I drop my eyes and answer them not.' At another time, remembering how his life had once a different shape, he will say, 'Many an hour I have spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why this sudden call to what useless inconsequence.' An innocence, a simplicity that one does not find elsewhere in literature makes the birds and the leaves seem as near to him as they are near to children, and the changes of the seasons great events as before our thoughts had arisen between them and us. At times I wonder if he has it from the literature of Bengal or from religion, and at other times, remembering the birds alighting on his brother's hands, I find pleasure in thinking it hereditary, a mystery that was growing through the centuries like the courtesy of a Tristan or a Pelanore. Indeed, when he is speaking of children, so much a part of himself this quality seems, one is not certain that he is not also speaking of the saints, 'They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.' W.B. YEATS _September 1912_ GITANJALI Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new. At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill. When thou commandest me to sing it seems that my heart would break with pride; and I look to thy face, and tears come to my eyes. All that is harsh and dissonant in my life melts into one sweet harmony--and my adoration spreads wings like a glad bird on its flight across the sea. I know thou takest pleasure in my singing. I know that only as a singer I come before thy presence. I touch by the edge of the far-spreading wing of my song thy feet which I could never aspire to reach. Drunk with the joy of singing I forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord. I know not how thou singest, my master! I ever listen in silent amazement. The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on. My heart longs to join in thy song, but vainly struggles for a voice. I would speak, but speech breaks not into song, and I cry out baffled. Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music, my master! Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living touch is upon all my limbs. I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind. I shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart. And it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it is thy power gives me strength to act. I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil. Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove. Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure. Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust. I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am aware, and the time of offering go by. Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time. My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers. My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music. The child who is decked with prince's robes and who has jewelled chains round his neck loses all pleasure in his play; his dress hampers him at every step. In fear that it may be frayed, or stained with dust he keeps himself from the world, and is afraid even to move. Mother, it is no gain, thy bondage of finery, if it keep one shut off from the healthful dust of the earth, if it rob one of the right of entrance to the great fair of common human life. O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders! O beggar, to come beg at thy own door! Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all, and never look behind in regret. Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath. It is unholy--take not thy gifts through its unclean hands. Accept only what is offered by sacred love. Here is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest, and lowliest, and lost. When I try to bow to thee, my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where thy feet rest among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost. Pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the clothes of the humble among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost. My heart can never find its way to where thou keepest company with the companionless among the poorest, the lowliest, and the lost. Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put of thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil! Deliverance? Where is this deliverance to be found? Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever. Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow. The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long. I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet. It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune. The traveller has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end. My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said 'Here art thou!' The question and the cry 'Oh, where?' melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance 'I am!' The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by. I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house. The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house. I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet. My desires are many and my cry is pitiful, but ever didst thou save me by hard refusals; and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and through. Day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple, great gifts that thou gavest to me unasked--this sky and the light, this body and the life and the mind--saving me from perils of overmuch desire. There are times when I languidly linger and times when I awaken and hurry in search of my goal; but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me. Day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by refusing me ever and anon, saving me from perils of weak, uncertain desire. I am here to sing thee songs. In this hall of thine I have a corner seat. In thy world I have no work to do; my useless life can only break out in tunes without a purpose. When the hour strikes for thy silent worship at the dark temple of midnight, command me, my master, to stand before thee to sing. When in the morning air the golden harp is tuned, honour me, commanding my presence. I have had my invitation to this world's festival, and thus my life has been blessed. My eyes have seen and my ears have heard. It was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument, and I have done all I could. Now, I ask, has the time come at last when I may go in and see thy face and offer thee my silent salutation? I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. That is why it is so late and why I have been guilty of such omissions. They come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast; but I evade them ever, for I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. People blame me and call me heedless; I doubt not they are right in their blame. The market day is over and work is all done for the busy. Those who came to call me in vain have gone back in anger. I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. Clouds heap upon clouds and it darkens. Ah, love, why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all alone? In the busy moments of the noontide work I am with the crowd, but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that I hope. If thou showest me not thy face, if thou leavest me wholly aside, I know not how I am to pass these long, rainy hours. I keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky, and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind. If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves. On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind. That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that is was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion. I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart. I must launch out my boat. The languid hours pass by on the shore--Alas for me! The spring has done its flowering and taken leave. And now with the burden of faded futile flowers I wait and linger. The waves have become clamorous, and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall. What emptiness do you gaze upon! Do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far-away song floating from the other shore? In the deep shadows of the rainy July, with secret steps, thou walkest, silent as night, eluding all watchers. Today the morning has closed its eyes, heedless of the insistent calls of the loud east wind, and a thick veil has been drawn over the ever-wakeful blue sky. The woodlands have hushed their songs, and doors are all shut at every house. Thou art the solitary wayfarer in this deserted street. Oh my only friend, my best beloved, the gates are open in my house--do not pass by like a dream. Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair. I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend! I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path! By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend? If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk. From the traveller, whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended, whose garment is torn and dustladen, whose strength is exhausted, remove shame and poverty, and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night. In the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep without struggle, resting my trust upon thee. Let me not force my flagging spirit into a poor preparation for thy worship. It is thou who drawest the veil of night upon the tired eyes of the day to renew its sight in a fresher gladness of awakening. He came and sat by my side but I woke not. What a cursed sleep it was, O miserable me! He came when the night was still; he had his harp in his hands, and my dreams became resonant with its melodies. Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep? Light, oh where is the light? Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame--is such thy fate, my heart? Ah, death were better by far for thee! Misery knocks at thy door, and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night. The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless. I know not what this is that stirs in me--I know not its meaning. A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me. Light, oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life. Obstinate are the trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them. Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed. I am certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room. The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted. He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon. I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up into the sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow. I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it with dust and sand lest a least hole should be left in this name; and for all the care I take I lose sight of my true being. I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark? I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not. He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter. He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company. 'Prisoner, tell me, who was it that bound you?' 'It was my master,' said the prisoner. 'I thought I could outdo everybody in the world in wealth and power, and I amassed in my own treasure-house the money due to my king. When sleep overcame me I lay upon the bed that was for my lord, and on waking up I found I was a prisoner in my own treasure-house.' 'Prisoner, tell me, who was it that wrought this unbreakable chain?' 'It was I,' said the prisoner, 'who forged this chain very carefully. I thought my invincible power would hold the world captive leaving me in a freedom undisturbed. Thus night and day I worked at the chain with huge fires and cruel hard strokes. When at last the work was done and the links were complete and unbreakable, I found that it held me in its grip.' By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world. But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs, and thou keepest me free. Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone. But day passes by after day and thou art not seen. If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love. When it was day they came into my house and said, 'We shall only take the smallest room here.' They said, 'We shall help you in the worship of your God and humbly accept only our own share in his grace'; and then they took their seat in a corner and they sat quiet and meek. But in the darkness of night I find they break into my sacred shrine, strong and turbulent, and snatch with unholy greed the offerings from God's altar. Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all. Let only that little be left of my will whereby I may feel thee on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee my love every moment. Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee. Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life--and that is the fetter of thy love. Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; Where words come out from the depth of truth; Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action-- Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake. This is my prayer to thee, my lord--strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart. Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows. Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service. Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might. Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles. And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love. I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power,--that the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity. But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders. That I want thee, only thee--let my heart repeat without end. All desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the core. As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light, even thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry--'I want thee, only thee'. As the storm still seeks its end in peace when it strikes against peace with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love and still its cry is--'I want thee, only thee'. When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy. When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song. When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest. When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king. When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder. The rain has held back for days and days, my God, in my arid heart. The horizon is fiercely naked--not the thinnest cover of a soft cloud, not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower. Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish, and with lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end. But call back, my lord, call back this pervading silent heat, still and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair. Let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look of the mother on the day of the father's wrath. Where dost thou stand behind them all, my lover, hiding thyself in the shadows? They push thee and pass thee by on the dusty road, taking thee for naught. I wait here weary hours spreading my offerings for thee, while passers-by come and take my flowers, one by one, and my basket is nearly empty. The morning time is past, and the noon. In the shade of evening my eyes are drowsy with sleep. Men going home glance at me and smile and fill me with shame. I sit like a beggar maid, drawing my skirt over my face, and when they ask me, what it is I want, I drop my eyes and answer them not. Oh, how, indeed, could I tell them that for thee I wait, and that thou hast promised to come. How could I utter for shame that I keep for my dowry this poverty. Ah, I hug this pride in the secret of my heart. I sit on the grass and gaze upon the sky and dream of the sudden splendour of thy coming--all the lights ablaze, golden pennons flying over thy car, and they at the roadside standing agape, when they see thee come down from thy seat to raise me from the dust, and set at thy side this ragged beggar girl a-tremble with shame and pride, like a creeper in a summer breeze. But time glides on and still no sound of the wheels of thy chariot. Many a procession passes by with noise and shouts and glamour of glory. Is it only thou who wouldst stand in the shadow silent and behind them all? And only I who would wait and weep and wear out my heart in vain longing? Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end. In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words. Is the time not come yet? Are there works still to do? Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests. Who knows when the chains will be off, and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset, vanish into the night? The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life. And today when by chance I light upon them and see thy signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten. Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star. This is my delight, thus to wait and watch at the wayside where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of the summer. Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies, greet me and speed along the road. My heart is glad within, and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet. From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door, and I know that of a sudden the happy moment will arrive when I shall see. In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone. In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise. Have you not heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes. Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes, comes, ever comes. Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed, 'He comes, comes, ever comes.' In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes, comes, ever comes. In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes, ever comes. In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine. I know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to meet me. Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye. In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret. I know not only why today my life is all astir, and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart. It is as if the time were come to wind up my work, and I feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence. The night is nearly spent waiting for him in vain. I fear lest in the morning he suddenly come to my door when I have fallen asleep wearied out. Oh friends, leave the way open to him-- forbid him not. If the sounds of his steps does not wake me, do not try to rouse me, I pray. I wish not to be called from my sleep by the clamorous choir of birds, by the riot of wind at the festival of morning light. Let me sleep undisturbed even if my lord comes of a sudden to my door. Ah, my sleep, precious sleep, which only waits for his touch to vanish. Ah, my closed eyes that would open their lids only to the light of his smile when he stands before me like a dream emerging from darkness of sleep. Let him appear before my sight as the first of all lights and all forms. The first thrill of joy to my awakened soul let it come from his glance. And let my return to myself be immediate return to him. The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers were all merry by the roadside; and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our way and paid no heed. We sang no glad songs nor played; we went not to the village for barter; we spoke not a word nor smiled; we lingered not on the way. We quickened our pace more and more as the time sped by. The sun rose to the mid sky and doves cooed in the shade. Withered leaves danced and whirled in the hot air of noon. The shepherd boy drowsed and dreamed in the shadow of the banyan tree, and I laid myself down by the water and stretched my tired limbs on the grass. My companions laughed at me in scorn; they held their heads high and hurried on; they never looked back nor rested; they vanished in the distant blue haze. They crossed many meadows and hills, and passed through strange, far-away countries. All honour to you, heroic host of the interminable path! Mockery and reproach pricked me to rise, but found no response in me. I gave myself up for lost in the depth of a glad humiliation--in the shadow of a dim delight. The repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom slowly spread over my heart. I forgot for what I had travelled, and I surrendered my mind without struggle to the maze of shadows and songs. At last, when I woke from my slumber and opened my eyes, I saw thee standing by me, flooding my sleep with thy smile. How I had feared that the path was long and wearisome, and the struggle to reach thee was hard! You came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door. I was singing all alone in a corner, and the melody caught your ear. You came down and stood at my cottage door. Masters are many in your hall, and songs are sung there at all hours. But the simple carol of this novice struck at your love. One plaintive little strain mingled with the great music of the world, and with a flower for a prize you came down and stopped at my cottage door. I had gone a-begging from door to door in the village path, when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and I wondered who was this King of all kings! My hopes rose high and methought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust. The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance fell on me and thou camest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last. Then of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand and say 'What hast thou to give to me?' Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg! I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to thee. But how great my surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little gram of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all. The night darkened. Our day's works had been done. We thought that the last guest had arrived for the night and the doors in the village were all shut. Only some said the king was to come. We laughed and said 'No, it cannot be!' It seemed there were knocks at the door and we said it was nothing but the wind. We put out the lamps and lay down to sleep. Only some said, 'It is the messenger!' We laughed and said 'No, it must be the wind!' There came a sound in the dead of the night. We sleepily thought it was the distant thunder. The earth shook, the walls rocked, and it troubled us in our sleep. Only some said it was the sound of wheels. We said in a drowsy murmur, 'No, it must be the rumbling of clouds!' The night was still dark when the drum sounded. The voice came 'Wake up! delay not!' We pressed our hands on our hearts and shuddered with fear. Some said, 'Lo, there is the king's flag!' We stood up on our feet and cried 'There is no time for delay!' The king has come--but where are lights, where are wreaths? Where is the throne to seat him? Oh, shame! Oh utter shame! Where is the hall, the decorations? Someone has said, 'Vain is this cry! Greet him with empty hands, lead him into thy rooms all bare!' Open the doors, let the conch-shells be sounded! in the depth of the night has come the king of our dark, dreary house. The thunder roars in the sky. The darkness shudders with lightning. Bring out thy tattered piece of mat and spread it in the courtyard. With the storm has come of a sudden our king of the fearful night. I thought I should ask of thee--but I dared not--the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck. Thus I waited for the morning, when thou didst depart, to find a few fragments on the bed. And like a beggar I searched in the dawn only for a stray petal or two. Ah me, what is it I find? What token left of thy love? It is no flower, no spices, no vase of perfumed water. It is thy mighty sword, flashing as a flame, heavy as a bolt of thunder. The young light of morning comes through the window and spreads itself upon thy bed. The morning bird twitters and asks, 'Woman, what hast thou got?' No, it is no flower, nor spices, nor vase of perfumed water--it is thy dreadful sword. I sit and muse in wonder, what gift is this of thine. I can find no place to hide it. I am ashamed to wear it, frail as I am, and it hurts me when I press it to my bosom. Yet shall I bear in my heart this honour of the burden of pain, this gift of thine. From now there shall be no fear left for me in this world, and thou shalt be victorious in all my strife. Thou hast left death for my companion and I shall crown him with my life. Thy sword is with me to cut asunder my bonds, and there shall be no fear left for me in the world. From now I leave off all petty decorations. Lord of my heart, no more shall there be for me waiting and weeping in corners, no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour. Thou hast given me thy sword for adornment. No more doll's decorations for me! Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with stars and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels. But more beautiful to me thy sword with its curve of lightning like the outspread wings of the divine bird of Vishnu, perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset. It quivers like the one last response of life in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death; it shines like the pure flame of being burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash. Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems; but thy sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behold or think of. I asked nothing from thee; I uttered not my name to thine ear. When thou took'st thy leave I stood silent. I was alone by the well where the shadow of the tree fell aslant, and the women had gone home with their brown earthen pitchers full to the brim. They called me and shouted, 'Come with us, the morning is wearing on to noon.' But I languidly lingered awhile lost in the midst of vague musings. I heard not thy steps as thou camest. Thine eyes were sad when they fell on me; thy voice was tired as thou spokest low--'Ah, I am a thirsty traveller.' I started up from my day-dreams and poured water from my jar on thy joined palms. The leaves rustled overhead; the cuckoo sang from the unseen dark, and perfume of _babla_ flowers came from the bend of the road. I stood speechless with shame when my name thou didst ask. Indeed, what had I done for thee to keep me in remembrance? But the memory that I could give water to thee to allay thy thirst will cling to my heart and enfold it in sweetness. The morning hour is late, the bird sings in weary notes, _neem_ leaves rustle overhead and I sit and think and think. Languor is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes. Has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour among thorns? Wake, oh awaken! let not the time pass in vain! At the end of the stony path, in the country of virgin solitude, my friend is sitting all alone. Deceive him not. Wake, oh awaken! What if the sky pants and trembles with the heat of the midday sun--what if the burning sand spreads its mantle of thirst-- Is there no joy in the deep of your heart? At every footfall of yours, will not the harp of the road break out in sweet music of pain? Thus it is that thy joy in me is so full. Thus it is that thou hast come down to me. O thou lord of all heavens, where would be thy love if I were not? Thou hast taken me as thy partner of all this wealth. In my heart is the endless play of thy delight. In my life thy will is ever taking shape. And for this, thou who art the King of kings hast decked thyself in beauty to captivate my heart. And for this thy love loses itself in the love of thy lover, and there art thou seen in the perfect union of two. Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light! Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth. The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light. The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion. Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad. Let all the strains of joy mingle in my last song--the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass, the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, dancing over the wide world, the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, shaking and waking all life with laughter, the joy that sits still with its tears on the open red lotus of pain, and the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust, and knows not a word. Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of my heart-- this golden light that dances upon the leaves, these idle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon my forehead. The morning light has flooded my eyes--this is thy message to my heart. Thy face is bent from above, thy eyes look down on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet. On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets. The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children. The sleep that flits on baby's eyes--does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling there, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes. The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps--does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning--the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps. The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs--does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love--the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs. When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints--when I give coloured toys to you, my child. When I sing to make you dance I truly now why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth--when I sing to make you dance. When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice--when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands. When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body--when I kiss you to make you smile. Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest. Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar. When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of many. On the slope of the desolate river among tall grasses I asked her, 'Maiden, where do you go shading your lamp with your mantle? My house is all dark and lonesome--lend me your light!' she raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk. 'I have come to the river,' she said, 'to float my lamp on the stream when the daylight wanes in the west.' I stood alone among tall grasses and watched the timid flame of her lamp uselessly drifting in the tide. In the silence of gathering night I asked her, 'Maiden, your lights are all lit--then where do you go with your lamp? My house is all dark and lonesome--lend me your light.' She raised her dark eyes on my face and stood for a moment doubtful. 'I have come,' she said at last, 'to dedicate my lamp to the sky.' I stood and watched her light uselessly burning in the void. In the moonless gloom of midnight I ask her, 'Maiden, what is your quest, holding the lamp near your heart? My house is all dark and lonesome--lend me your light.' She stopped for a minute and thought and gazed at my face in the dark. 'I have brought my light,' she said, 'to join the carnival of lamps.' I stood and watched her little lamp uselessly lost among lights. What divine drink wouldst thou have, my God, from this overflowing cup of my life? My poet, is it thy delight to see thy creation through my eyes and to stand at the portals of my ears silently to listen to thine own eternal harmony? Thy world is weaving words in my mind and thy joy is adding music to them. Thou givest thyself to me in love and then feelest thine own entire sweetness in me. She who ever had remained in the depth of my being, in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses; she who never opened her veils in the morning light, will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song. Words have wooed yet failed to win her; persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain. I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart, and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life. Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart. Many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away in despair. There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face, and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition. Thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well. O thou beautiful, there in the nest is thy love that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours. There comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand bearing the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth. And there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds, through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest. But there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in, reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day nor night, nor form nor colour, and never, never a word. Thy sunbeam comes upon this earth of mine with arms outstretched and stands at my door the livelong day to carry back to thy feet clouds made of my tears and sighs and songs. With fond delight thou wrappest about thy starry breast that mantle of misty cloud, turning it into numberless shapes and folds and colouring it with hues everchanging. It is so light and so fleeting, tender and tearful and dark, that is why thou lovest it, O thou spotless and serene. And that is why it may cover thy awful white light with its pathetic shadows. The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow. I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment. Is it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm? to be tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy? All things rush on, they stop not, they look not behind, no power can hold them back, they rush on. Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music, seasons come dancing and pass away--colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies every moment. That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides, thus casting coloured shadows on thy radiance--such is thy _maya_. Thou settest a barrier in thine own being and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes. This thy self-separation has taken body in me. The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloured tears and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again, dreams break and form. In me is thy own defeat of self. This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures with the brush of the night and the day. Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves, casting away all barren lines of straightness. The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky. With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant, and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me. He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain. He it is who weaves the web of this _maya_ in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself. Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow. Deliverance is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight. Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim. My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple. No, I will never shut the doors of my senses. The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight. Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love. The day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher. The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water. Ah, it calls me out into the dusk. In the lonely lane there is no passer-by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river. I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet. There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute. Thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to thee undiminished. The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet. The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to thee. Thy worship does not impoverish the world. From the words of the poet men take what meanings please them; yet their last meaning points to thee. Day after day, O lord of my life, shall I stand before thee face to face. With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, shall I stand before thee face to face. Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face. In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil and with struggle, among hurrying crowds shall I stand before thee face to face. And when my work shall be done in this world, O King of kings, alone and speechless shall I stand before thee face to face. I know thee as my God and stand apart--I do not know thee as my own and come closer. I know thee as my father and bow before thy feet--I do not grasp thy hand as my friend's. I stand not where thou comest down and ownest thyself as mine, there to clasp thee to my heart and take thee as my comrade. Thou art the Brother amongst my brothers, but I heed them not, I divide not my earnings with them, thus sharing my all with thee. In pleasure and in pain I stand not by the side of men, and thus stand by thee. I shrink to give up my life, and thus do not plunge into the great waters of life. When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first splendour, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang 'Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed!' But one cried of a sudden--'It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light and one of the stars has been lost.' The golden string of their harp snapped, their song stopped, and they cried in dismay--'Yes, that lost star was the best, she was the glory of all heavens!' From that day the search is unceasing for her, and the cry goes on from one to the other that in her the world has lost its one joy! Only in the deepest silence of night the stars smile and whisper among themselves--'Vain is this seeking! unbroken perfection is over all!' If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight--let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. As my days pass in the crowded market of this world and my hands grow full with the daily profits, let me ever feel that I have gained nothing--let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting, when I spread my bed low in the dust, let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me--let me not forget a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound and the laughter there is loud, let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house--let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours. I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun ever-glorious! Thy touch has not yet melted my vapour, making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years separated from thee. If this be thy wish and if this be thy play, then take this fleeting emptiness of mine, paint it with colours, gild it with gold, float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders. And again when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night, I shall melt and vanish away in the dark, or it may be in a smile of the white morning, in a coolness of purity transparent. On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands. Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness. I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers. Time is endless in thy hands, my lord. There is none to count thy minutes. Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers. Thou knowest how to wait. Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower. We have no time to lose, and having no time we must scramble for a chances. We are too poor to be late. And thus it is that time goes by while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last. At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate to be shut; but I find that yet there is time. Mother, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck with my tears of sorrow. The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet, but mine will hang upon thy breast. Wealth and fame come from thee and it is for thee to give or to withhold them. But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own, and when I bring it to thee as my offering thou rewardest me with thy grace. It is the pang of separation that spreads throughout the world and gives birth to shapes innumerable in the infinite sky. It is this sorrow of separation that gazes in silence all nights from star to star and becomes lyric among rustling leaves in rainy darkness of July. It is this overspreading pain that deepens into loves and desires, into sufferings and joy in human homes; and this it is that ever melts and flows in songs through my poet's heart. When the warriors came out first from their master's hall, where had they hid their power? Where were their armour and their arms? They looked poor and helpless, and the arrows were showered upon them on the day they came out from their master's hall. When the warriors marched back again to their master's hall where did they hide their power? They had dropped the sword and dropped the bow and the arrow; peace was on their foreheads, and they had left the fruits of their life behind them on the day they marched back again to their master's hall. Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home. The night is dark and my heart is fearful--yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is thy messenger who stands at my door. I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart. He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning; and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee. In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my room; I find her not. My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained. But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have to come to thy door. I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I lift my eager eyes to thy face. I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish--no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears. Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness. Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe. Deity of the ruined temple! The broken strings of _Vina_ sing no more your praise. The bells in the evening proclaim not your time of worship. The air is still and silent about you. In your desolate dwelling comes the vagrant spring breeze. It brings the tidings of flowers--the flowers that for your worship are offered no more. Your worshipper of old wanders ever longing for favour still refused. In the eventide, when fires and shadows mingle with the gloom of dust, he wearily comes back to the ruined temple with hunger in his heart. Many a festival day comes to you in silence, deity of the ruined temple. Many a night of worship goes away with lamp unlit. Many new images are built by masters of cunning art and carried to the holy stream of oblivion when their time is come. Only the deity of the ruined temple remains unworshipped in deathless neglect. No more noisy, loud words from me--such is my master's will. Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song. Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there. But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work. Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time; and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum. Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence! On the day when death will knock at thy door what wilt thou offer to him? Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life--I will never let him go with empty hands. All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights, all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life will I place before him at the close of my days when death will knock at my door. O thou the last fulfilment of life, Death, my death, come and whisper to me! Day after day I have kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life. All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy. One final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own. The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom. After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night. I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost, and life will take its leave in silence, drawing the last curtain over my eyes. Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures. Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest of lives. Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got--let them pass. Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and overlooked. I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure. Here I give back the keys of my door--and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you. We were neighbours for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey. At this time of my parting, wish me good luck, my friends! The sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful. Ask not what I have with me to take there. I start on my journey with empty hands and expectant heart. I shall put on my wedding garland. Mine is not the red-brown dress of the traveller, and though there are dangers on the way I have no fear in mind. The evening star will come out when my voyage is done and the plaintive notes of the twilight melodies be struck up from the King's gateway. I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life. What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight! When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother. Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me. And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well. The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation. When I go from hence let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable. I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light, and thus am I blessed--let this be my parting word. In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless. My whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; and if the end comes here, let it come--let this be my parting word. When my play was with thee I never questioned who thou wert. I knew nor shyness nor fear, my life was boisterous. In the early morning thou wouldst call me from my sleep like my own comrade and lead me running from glade to glade. On those days I never cared to know the meaning of songs thou sangest to me. Only my voice took up the tunes, and my heart danced in their cadence. Now, when the playtime is over, what is this sudden sight that is come upon me? The world with eyes bent upon thy feet stands in awe with all its silent stars. I will deck thee with trophies, garlands of my defeat. It is never in my power to escape unconquered. I surely know my pride will go to the wall, my life will burst its bonds in exceeding pain, and my empty heart will sob out in music like a hollow reed, and the stone will melt in tears. I surely know the hundred petals of a lotus will not remain closed for ever and the secret recess of its honey will be bared. From the blue sky an eye shall gaze upon me and summon me in silence. Nothing will be left for me, nothing whatever, and utter death shall I receive at thy feet. When I give up the helm I know that the time has come for thee to take it. What there is to do will be instantly done. Vain is this struggle. Then take away your hands and silently put up with your defeat, my heart, and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still where you are placed. These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind, and trying to light them I forget all else again and again. But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark, spreading my mat on the floor; and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord, come silently and take thy seat here. I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless. No more sailing from harbour to harbour with this my weather-beaten boat. The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves. And now I am eager to die into the deathless. Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take this harp of my life. I shall tune it to the notes of forever, and when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent. Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them have I felt about me, searching and touching my world. It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart. They guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain, and, at last, to what palace gate have the brought me in the evening at the end of my journey? I boasted among men that I had known you. They see your pictures in all works of mine. They come and ask me, 'Who is he?' I know not how to answer them. I say, 'Indeed, I cannot tell.' They blame me and they go away in scorn. And you sit there smiling. I put my tales of you into lasting songs. The secret gushes out from my heart. They come and ask me, 'Tell me all your meanings.' I know not how to answer them. I say, 'Ah, who knows what they mean!' They smile and go away in utter scorn. And you sit there smiling. In one salutation to thee, my God, let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet. Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee. Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee. Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee. 
36301	----	The Thousand and One Days; A COMPANION TO THE "_Arabian Nights._" WITH INTRODUCTION BY MISS PARDOE. [Illustration: P. 113.] LONDON: WILLIAM LAY, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND. 1857. INTRODUCTION. The Compiler of the graceful little volume which I have the pleasure of introducing to the public, has conferred an undeniable benefit upon the youth of England by presenting to them a collection of Oriental Tales, which, rich in the elements of interest and entertainment, are nevertheless entirely free from the licentiousness which renders so many of the fictions of the East, beautiful and brilliant as they are, most objectionable for young and ardent minds. There is indeed no lack of the wonderful in the pages before us, any more than in the Arabian and Persian Tales already so well known: but it will be seen that the supernatural agency in the narratives is used as a means to work out totally different results. There is, in truth, scarcely one of these Tales which does not inculcate a valuable moral lesson; as may be seen by reference to "The Powder of Longevity," "The Old Camel," and "The Story of the Dervise Abounadar" among several, others. The present collection of Eastern Stories has been principally derived from the works of different Oriental Scholars on the Continent, and little doubt can be entertained of the genuineness of their origin; while they have been carefully selected, and do honour to the good taste of their Compiler. An acknowledgment is also due to him for his adherence to the good old orthography to which we have all been accustomed from our childhood, in the case of such titles as "Caliph," "Vizier," "Houri," "Genii," &c.; as, however critically correct and learned the spelling of Mr. Lane may be in his magnificent version of the "Thousand and One Nights," and however appropriate to a work of so much research and value to Oriental students, it would have been alike fatiguing and out of character to have embarrassed a volume, simply intended for the amusement of youthful readers, by a number of hard and unfamiliar words, difficult of pronunciation to all save the initiated; and for the pleasure of the young requiring translation fully as much as the narrative itself. In one of the Tales there will be at once detected a portion of the favourite old story of Aladdin's Lamp, in the subterranean gem-garden discovered by the handsome youth; while in another, mention is made of the already-familiar legend of the hidden city of Ad, so popular among the ancient Arabs[1]; but these repetitions will cease to create any surprise when it is remembered that the professional story-tellers of the East are a wandering race, who travel from city to city, exhibiting their talent during seasons of festivity, in the palaces of the wealthy and the public coffee-houses. Those admitted to the women's apartments are universally aged crones, whose volubility is something marvellous; and they are always welcome guests to the indolent beauties, who listen to them for hours together without a symptom of weariness, as they pour forth their narratives in a monotonous voice strangely displeasing to European ears. The men, while reciting their tales, indulge in violent gesticulations and contortions of the body, which appear to produce great delight in their audience. Since they generally travel two or three in company; and, save in rare cases of improvisation, their stock of narrative is common to all, it is their ambition so individually to embellish, heighten, and amplify their subject-matter, as to outshine their competitors; and it is consequently to this cause that the numerous variations of the same Tale which have reached Europe must be attributed. Taken altogether, there can be no doubt that the "Thousand and One Days" merit the warm welcome which I trust awaits them. J. P. LONDON, FEB. 1857. CONTENTS. I. PAGE HASSAN ABDALLAH, OR THE ENCHANTED KEYS 1 Story of Hassan 7 Story of the Basket-Maker 11 Story of the Dervise Abounadar 21 Conclusion of the Story of Hassan 29 II. SOLIMAN BEY AND THE THREE STORY TELLERS 46 First Story Teller 47 Second Story Teller 49 Third Story Teller 55 III. PRINCE KHALAF AND THE PRINCESS OF CHINA 58 Story of Prince Al Abbas 67 Continuation of Prince Khalaf and the Princess of China 99 Story of Lin-in 106 Story of Prince Khalaf concluded 126 IV. THE WISE DEY 178 V. THE TUNISIAN SAGE 190 VI. THE NOSE FOR GOLD 203 VII. THE TREASURES OF BASRA 215 History of Aboulcassem 223 Conclusion of the Treasures of Basra 230 VIII. THE OLD CAMEL 250 IX. THE STORY OF MEDJEDDIN 263 X. KING BEDREDDIN-LOLO AND HIS VIZIR 299 Story of the Old Slippers 300 Story of Atalmulc the Sorrowful 305 Continuation of King Bedreddin-Lolo and his Vizir 338 Story of Malek and the Princess Schirine 340 Conclusion 358 [Illustration] THE "THOUSAND AND ONE DAYS;" OR, ARABIAN TALES. I. THE STORY OF HASSAN ABDALLAH; OR, THE ENCHANTED KEYS. Theilon, caliph of Egypt, died, after having bequeathed his power to his son, Mohammed, who, like a wise and good prince, proceeded to root out abuses, and finally caused peace and justice to flourish throughout his dominions. Instead of oppressing his people by new taxes, he employed the treasures, which his father had amassed by violence, in supporting learned men, rewarding the brave, and assisting the unfortunate. Every thing succeeded under his happy sway; the risings of the Nile were regular and abundant; every year the soil produced rich harvests; and commerce, honoured and protected, caused the gold of foreign nations to flow abundantly into the ports of Egypt. Mohammed determined, one day, to take the census of the officers of his army, and of all the persons in public situations whose salaries were paid out of the treasury. The vizirs, to the number of forty, first made their appearance and knelt in succession before the sovereign. They were, for the most part, men venerable from their age, and some of them had long beards of snowy whiteness. They all wore on their heads tiaras of gold, enriched with precious stones, and carried in their hands long staves as badges of their power. One enumerated the battles in which he had been engaged, and the honourable wounds he had received; another recounted the long and laborious studies he had pursued, in order to render himself master of the various sciences, and to qualify himself to serve the state by his wisdom and knowledge. After the vizirs, came the governors of provinces, the generals, and the great officers of the army; and next to them the civil magistrates, and all who were entrusted with the preservation of the peace and the awarding of justice. Behind these walked the public executioner, who, although stout and well-fed, like a man who had nothing to do, went along as if depressed with grief, and instead of carrying his sword naked on his shoulder, he kept it in its scabbard. When he came into the presence of the prince, he threw himself at his feet, and exclaimed, "O mighty prince, the day of justice and of munificence is at last about to dawn on me! Since the death of the terrible Theilon, under whose reign my life was happy and my condition prosperous, I have seen my occupation and its emoluments diminish daily. If Egypt continue thus to live in peace and plenty, I shall run great danger of perishing with hunger, and my family will be brought to misery and ruin." Mohammed listened in silence to the complaints of the headsman, and acknowledged that there was some foundation for them, for his salary was small, and the chief part of his profits arose from what he obtained from criminals, either by way of gift, or as a rightful fee. In times of trouble, quarrelling, and violence, he had lived, in fact, in a state of ease and affluence, while now, under the present prosperous reign, he had nothing better than the prospect of beggary before him. "Is it then true," exclaimed the caliph, "that the happiness of all is a dream? that what is joy to one, may be the cause of grief to another? O executioner, fear not as to your fate! May it, indeed, please God that, under my reign, your sword,--which is almost as often an instrument of vengeance as of justice,--may remain useless and covered with rust. But, in order to enable you to provide for the wants of yourself and your family, without the unhappy necessity of exercising your fatal office, you shall receive every year the sum of two hundred dinars." In this way all the officers and servants of the palace passed before the notice of the prince; he interrogated each on the nature of his occupation and his past services, on his means of existence, and on the salary which he received. When he found that any one held a situation of a painful and difficult nature, for which he was inadequately remunerated, the caliph diminished his duties and increased his pay; and, on the other hand, when he found the contrary to be the case, he lessened the salary and increased the duties of the office. After having, in this way, performed many acts of wisdom and justice, the caliph observed, among the officers of the civil service, a sheik, whose wrinkled countenance and stooping figure indicated his great age. The caliph called him up, in order to inquire what was his employment in the palace, and the sum which it yielded him. "Prince," the old man replied, "my only employment is to take care of a chest that was committed to my charge by your father, the late caliph, and for attending to which he allowed me ten pieces of gold a month." "It seems to me," replied Mohammed, "that the reward is great for so slight a service. Pray what are the contents of this chest?" "I received it," replied the sheik, "in charge forty years ago, and I solemnly swear to you that I know not what it contains." The caliph commanded the chest to be brought to him, which was of pure gold, and most richly adorned. The old man opened it. It contained a manuscript written in brilliant characters on the skin of a gazelle, painted purple and sprinkled with a red dust. Neither the prince, however, nor his ministers, nor the ulemas who were present, could decipher the writing. By the caliph's order, the wise men of Egypt were summoned, as well as others from Syria, Persia, and India, but to no purpose; not one was able to interpret the mysterious characters. The book remained open for a long time, exposed to the gaze of all, and a great reward was offered to any one who could bring forward a person of sufficient learning to read it. Some time after this, a savant who had left Egypt in the reign of Theilon, and had now returned after a long absence, chanced to hear of the mysterious book, and said that he knew what it was, and could explain its history. The caliph immediately admitted him to an audience, and the old man addressed him as follows: "O sovereign ruler, may the Almighty prolong your days! Only one man can read this book, its rightful master, the sheik Hassan Abdallah, son of El-Achaar. This man had travelled through many lands, and penetrated into the mysterious city of Aram, built on columns, from which he brought this book, which no one but himself could read. He made use of it in his experiments in alchemy, and by its aid he could transmute the most worthless metals into gold. The caliph Theilon, your father, having learned this, commanded the sage to be brought before him, with a view of compelling him to reveal the secret of his knowledge. Hassan Abdallah refused to do so, for fear of putting into the hands of the unjust an instrument of such terrible power; and the prince, in a rage, laid hold of the chest, and ordered the sage to be thrown into prison, where he still remains, unless he has died since that time, which is forty years ago." On hearing this, Mohammed immediately despatched his officers to visit the prisons, and, on their return, learned with pleasure that Hassan was still alive. The caliph ordered him to be brought forth and arrayed in a dress of honour; and, on his appearing in the audience chamber, the prince made him sit down beside him, and begged him to forgive the unjust treatment which his father had caused him to undergo. He then told him how he had accidentally discovered that he was still alive; and at last, placing the mysterious book before him, said, "Old man, if this book could make me the owner of all the treasures of the world, I would not consent to possess it, since it only belongs to me by injustice and violence." On hearing these words, Hassan burst into tears. "O God," he exclaimed, "all wisdom proceeds from Thee! Thou causest to arise from the same soil the poisonous and the wholesome plant. Every where good is placed by the side of evil. This prince, the support of the feeble, the defender of the oppressed, who has conferred on me the happiness of spending my remaining years in the light of day, is the son of the tyrant who plunged Egypt in mourning, and who kept me for forty years in a loathsome dungeon. Prince," added the old man, addressing Mohammed, "what I refused to the wrath of your father, I willingly grant to your virtues: this book contains the precepts of the true science, and I bless Heaven that I have lived long enough to teach it to you. I have often risked my life to become the master of this wonderful book, which was the only article of value that I brought from Aram, that city into which no man can enter who is not assisted by Heaven." The caliph embraced the old man, and, calling him his father, begged him to relate what he had seen in the city of Aram. "Prince," replied Hassan, "it is a long story, as long, nearly, as my whole life." He then proceeded as follows. [Illustration: Story of the Enchanted Keys, p. 7.] THE STORY OF HASSAN ABDALLAH. I am the only son of one of the richest inhabitants of Egypt. My father, who was a man of extensive knowledge, employed my youth in the study of science; and at twenty years of age I was already honourably mentioned among the ulemas, when my father bestowed a young maiden on me as my wife, with eyes brilliant as the stars, and with a form elegant and light as that of the gazelle. My nuptials were magnificent, and my days flowed on in peace and happiness. I lived thus for ten years, when at last this beautiful dream vanished. It pleased Heaven to afflict me with every kind of misfortune: the plague deprived me of my father; war destroyed my dear brothers; my house fell a prey to the flames; my richly-laden ships were buried beneath the waves. Reduced to misery and want, my only resource was in the mercy of God and the compassion of the faithful whom I met while I frequented the mosques. My sufferings, from my own wretched state of poverty, and that of my wife and children, were cruel indeed. One day when I had not received any charitable donations, my wife, weeping, took some of my clothes, and gave them to me in order to sell them at the bazaar. On the way thither I met an Arab of the desert, mounted on a red camel. He greeted me, and said, "Peace be with you, my brother! Can you tell me where the sheik Hassan Abdallah, the son of El-Achaar, resides in the city?" Being ashamed of my poverty, and thinking I was not known, I replied, "There is no man at Cairo of that name." "God is great!" exclaimed the Arab; "are you not Hassan Abdallah, and can you send away your guest by concealing your name?" Greatly confused, I then begged him to forgive me, and laid hold of his hands to kiss them, which he would not permit me to do, and I then accompanied him to my house. On the way there I was tormented by the reflection that I had nothing to set before him; and when I reached home I informed my wife of the meeting I had just had. "The stranger is sent by God," said she; "and even the children's bread shall be his. Go, sell the clothes which I gave you; buy some food for our guest with the money, and if any thing should remain over, we will partake of it ourselves." In going out it was necessary that I should pass through the apartment where the Arab was. As I concealed the clothes, he said to me, "My brother, what have you got there hid under your cloak?" I replied that it was my wife's dress, which I was carrying to the tailor. "Show it to me," he said. I showed it to him, blushing. "O merciful God," he exclaimed, "you are going to sell it in order to get money to enable you to be hospitable towards me! Stop, Hassan! here are ten pieces of gold; spend them in buying what is needful for our own wants and for those of your family." I obeyed, and plenty and happiness seemed to revisit my abode. Every day the Arab gave me the same sum, which, according to his orders, I spent in the same way; and this continued for fifteen days. On the sixteenth day my guest, after chatting on indifferent matters, said to me, "Hassan, would you like to sell yourself to me?" "My lord," I replied, "I am already yours by gratitude." "No," he replied, "that is not what I mean; I wish to make you my property, and you shall fix the price yourself." Thinking he was joking, I replied, "The price of a freeman is one thousand dinars if he is killed at a single blow; but if many wounds are inflicted upon him, or if he should be cut in many pieces, the price is then one thousand five hundred dinars." "Very well," answered my guest, "I will pay you this last-mentioned sum if you will consent to the bargain." When I saw that he was speaking seriously, I asked for time in order to consult my family. "Do so," he replied, and then went out to look after some affairs in the city. When I related the strange proposal of my guest, my mother said, "What can this man want to do with you?" The children all clung to me, and wept. My wife, who was a wise and prudent woman, remarked, "This detestable stranger wants, perhaps, to get back what he has spent here. You have nothing but this wretched house, sell it, and give him the money, but don't sell yourself." I passed the rest of the day and the following night in reflection, and was in a state of great uncertainty. With the sum offered by the stranger I could at least secure bread for my family. But why wish to purchase me? What could he intend to do? Before next morning, however, I had come to a decision. I went to the Arab and said, "I am yours." Untying his sash, he took out one thousand five hundred gold pieces, and giving them to me, said, "Fear not, my brother, I have no designs against either your life or your liberty; I only wish to secure a faithful companion during a long journey which I am about to undertake." Overwhelmed with joy, I ran with the money to my wife and mother; but they, without listening to my explanations, began weeping and crying as if they were lamenting for the dead. "It is the price of flesh and blood," they exclaimed; "neither we nor our children will eat bread procured at such a cost!" By dint of argument, however, I succeeded at length in subduing their grief; and having embraced them, together with my children, I set out to meet my new master. By order of the Arab I purchased a camel renowned for its speed, at the price of a hundred drachms; I filled our sacks with food sufficient for a long period; and then, mounting our camels, we proceeded on our journey. We soon reached the desert. Here no traces of travellers were to be seen, for the wind effaced them continually from the surface of the moving sand. The Arab was guided in his course by indications known only to himself. We travelled thus together for five days under a burning sun; each day seemed longer to me than a night of suffering or of fear. My master, who was of a lively disposition, kept up my courage by tales which I remember even now with pleasure after forty years of anguish; and you will forgive an old man for not being able to resist the pleasure of relating some of them to you. The following story, he said, had been recounted to him by the basket-maker himself, a poor man whom he had found in prison, and whom he had charitably found means to release. THE STORY OF THE BASKET-MAKER. I was born of poor and honest parents; and my father, who was a basket-maker by trade, taught me to plait all kinds of baskets. So long as I had only myself to care for, I lived tolerably well on the produce of my labour; but when I reached twenty years of age, and took a wife, who in a few years presented me with several children, my gains proved insufficient to maintain my family. A basket-maker earns but little; one day he gets a drachm, the next he may get two, or perhaps only half a drachm. In this state of things I and my children had often to endure the pangs of hunger. One day it happened that I had just finished a large basket; it was well and strongly made, and I hoped to obtain at least three drachms for it. I took it to the bazaar and through all the streets, but no purchaser appeared. Night came on and I went home. When my wife and children saw me return without any food, they began to cry and to ask for bread, but as I had none to give them, I could only weep with them: the night was long and sorrowful. At daybreak my wife awoke me, saying, "Go, and sell the basket at any price you can get for it, were it only half a drachm." I set out, and perambulated the streets and squares, but night came on again without my finding a purchaser. My wife burst out into a great rage. "What!" she said, "do you still bring back this basket? Do you wish to see us die with hunger?" I assured her that I had tried every means, but in vain, to sell the basket. She then took some articles of her own, and told me to go and sell them, and procure some bread for the children. I did as she said, and my famished family partook of a miserable repast, which my depressed state of mind prevented me from sharing with them. I slept little that night; and as soon as it was day I performed my devotions, and prayed to God to come to my assistance. I then went out again with my unsaleable basket, with which I made many weary and fruitless rounds through the whole city. At noon, overwhelmed with fatigue and famished with hunger, I sat down at the door of a mosque, where the voice of the muezzim was calling the faithful to prayer. I entered to implore of God's goodness that I might be able, by his assistance, to sell the basket. Prayer being ended, the faithful left the mosque, and I found myself alone with a venerable Persian, named Saadi, who seemed lost in contemplation. Rising to go away, he passed near me, and noticing how pale I was, he said, "Friend, you are too much addicted to wine, and your health suffers from it." "My lord," I replied, "do not believe it; I have never tasted wine; my weakness and paleness arise from my not having had any food for the last two days." I then related to him my life, my occupation, and my wretched state. Whilst listening to me the stranger shed tears; and when I had finished speaking, he said, "God be praised, my brother! for I can put an end to your troubles: take this," putting a purse of gold into my hands; "run to the market, and buy meat, bread, and fruits for the refreshment of yourself and family. What I have given you will last you for a year to come; and in exchange, I only ask you to meet me here, at the same day and hour, every year." So saying, he departed. I could scarcely think but that I had been dreaming; the purse, however, proved that I was indeed awake. I opened it, and found in it a hundred pieces of gold! Overjoyed, I ran to the bazaar, and, in pursuance of the orders of the benevolent donor, I purchased enough, not only to satisfy the calls of hunger, but also food of such a nourishing nature, as had never entered my house before. The whole I put into my basket, and hastened to return home. Having reached the door, I listened, being curious to know what was going on. My children were uttering lamentations, and their mother was endeavouring to quiet them by repeating, for the hundredth time, her advice, to be quiet, and not to weep, for that their father would be sure to return with something to eat. I then entered the room, exclaiming, that God had heard them, and had sent them a plentiful supply for a long time to come. But when I showed them the purse and its contents, my wife shouted out, "What! have you then killed and robbed some one? Are we to become the object of the inquiries and suspicions of the police?" I then related my fortunate meeting with the old man, and while embracing me with tears of joy, and a conscience at ease, my family partook, with me, of a plentiful repast, at the same time invoking blessings on our unknown benefactor. For a whole year I lived happily in this manner. The day fixed upon by the stranger having arrived, I went to the mosque, after having attired myself in a becoming manner. The Persian came and seated himself beside me. When prayers were ended, and all the worshippers had departed, he turned towards me and said, with a smiling look, "O my brother! how has the time passed with you since our last interview?" "Thanks to your generosity, my lord," I replied, "my life has been spent in a tranquil and happy manner." The stranger then questioned me as to my courage, address, and love of travelling; and to all his questions I replied in a satisfactory manner, and, in my turn, asked him if I could be of any service to him. "Noureddin," he replied, "I intend setting out on a journey, and I wish you to accompany me as my servant. I shall employ you in a respectable and becoming manner; and if you show yourself obedient and devoted to my interests, you will have no reason to repent it. The journey will last two months; look, here are thirty dinars; buy provisions, that your family may want for nothing during your absence. In eight days you must bid adieu to your wife and children, and come to meet me here, bringing a supply of rice and dates, and arming yourself with a yatagan, to defend yourself in case of our being attacked." I then went to my wife, and told her what the stranger required of me. "He is our benefactor," she replied; "it is your duty to obey him." I spent the eight days in laying in a store of food for my family and for the journey, and on the appointed day, after embracing my wife and children, I went to the mosque, where I found the Persian. The muezzim having proclaimed the hour of prayer, we joined in it; and afterwards I followed him to a desert place, where were two fine horses well harnessed and yoked, which we unloosed and mounted, and then set out on our journey. After having traversed deserts and mountains during a whole month, we arrived at a fertile plain, watered by a fine river, whose peaceful and limpid waters winding about a thick forest, formed it into peninsula: a pavilion, with a golden cupola, seemed to rise out of this mass of verdure, and shone in the sun's rays as if it had been on fire. [Illustration: The Pavilion with the golden cupola, p. 14] The Persian now said to me, "Noureddin, enter this forest, and give me an account of what you see." I obeyed, but I had scarcely walked an hour, when I saw two huge lions with manes erect. Seized with alarm, I drew back, and running away reached my master out of breath, who only laughed at my fears, and assured me that I was needlessly afraid of the monsters. He wanted me to return, but I refused, and he was obliged to come back along with me. Having approached the lions, the Persian charmed them by some magical words, on which they became as submissive as lambs, remained motionless, and permitted us to pass. We journeyed on for many hours in the recesses of the forest, meeting, to my great dread, with what appeared to be troops of horsemen, sword in hand, and giants, armed with clubs, ready to strike us. All these fantastic beings disappeared at the sight of my master, and we reached at last the pavilion which crowned the forest. My master then said to me, "Go, Noureddin, to this pavilion; remove the belt of iron chains which fastens the gates, while I go and pray to the great Solomon to be propitious to our enterprise." I did as he commanded me; but when I let the chains fall, a frightful noise was heard, which made the earth shake under my feet. More dead than alive, I returned to the Persian, who, having finished his prayer, entered the pavilion. At the end of an hour he came out, bringing a book with him written in the sacred language. He began to read it; and when he had finished, with his countenance radiant with delight he exclaimed, "O thrice fortunate Saadi! thou possessest at last this holy book,--the sum of wisdom, the mirror of the good and the terror of the wicked! May the perusal of this garden of roses lead the children of Adam back to that original innocence from which they have so fatally departed! Hearken to these maxims and sentences, worthy to be the guides of mankind from the shepherd to the king:-- 'He who learns the rules of wisdom without conforming his life to them, is like the man who tills his field but never sows any seed therein. 'Virtue does not consist in acquiring the riches of this world, but in attaching all hearts by benefits and good offices. 'If you are insensible to the sufferings of the unfortunate, you do not deserve the name of a man. 'It is better to be loaded with chains for having told the truth, than to be freed from them by means of a lie. 'A wicked person that accuses you of licentiousness should be made to blush, in his turn, by your virtues and your innocence. 'Man should remember that he is born of the earth, and that his pride will one day come to an end in it. 'Crystal is found every where; but nothing is more rare than the diamond, and hence the difference in their value. 'Instruction only bears fruit in so far as it is assisted by your own endeavours. 'The discipline of the master is of greater benefit to the child than the indulgence of the father. 'So long as the tree is young it is easy to fashion it as you please; but when it has been permitted to grow, nothing but fire can straighten it. 'Woe to the man of might, who devours the substance of the people! At last some dire calamity will, of a surety, overtake him. 'The most awful spectacle at the day of judgment will be, says the prophet, to see pious slaves in paradise, and hard and merciless masters in hell. 'Do you ask whether the ant beneath your feet has a right to complain? Yes; just as much right as you would have if crushed to atoms by an elephant. 'Encouragement towards the wicked is a wrong done to the good; and the severest attack on virtue is to be indulgent to crime. 'The perpetrator of an unjust action dies, but his memory is held in everlasting abhorrence. The just man dies, and his good actions bear fruit unto eternity. 'Be assured that thou wilt be rewarded if thine actions are good, whether thou wearest the dress of the dervise or the crown of the king. 'Would a king have nothing to fear from his enemies, let him live in peace with his subjects. 'O my brother! the world forsakes us all. Fix thy heart on the Creator of the universe, and all will be well with thee. 'What signifies it, whether we die in a stable or on a throne? 'At your morning and evening prayer be able to say, Almighty God, be pleased to remember Thy servant, who has never forgotten Thee!' "My ambition is satisfied," resumed the Persian, "by the possession of this book; but a fortune of that description would be no fortune to you, Noureddin. You stand in need of a material treasure; and this sacred volume tells me where we ought to look for it. Quick! Mount your steed, and let us proceed so long as Solomon favours us." Leaping into our saddles, therefore, we set off at full gallop, and entering the desert, journeyed thus for two days and a night. On the evening of the second day we arrived at a city situated on a high mountain, and surrounded with white walls which shone like silver. We passed the night under the trees of an adjoining wood; and next day, having offered up our prayers, looked about for some way of entering the city, the gates of which were shut, and within which there reigned a perfect stillness. My master went round the walls, and in his examination of them he discovered a stone slab, in which was fastened an iron ring. We endeavoured to move the slab, but could not. The Persian then ordered me to take the horses and to fasten them to the ring with our sashes; and by this means we succeeded in removing the stone, which discovered the entrance to a subterraneous passage. My master said to me, "Noureddin, follow me; by this passage we shall get into the city." On leaving the subterraneous passage we heard a noise like that which might be produced by the loud puffing of the bellows of a forge, and we supposed for a moment that the city was inhabited. This strange noise was nothing else than the hissing of two winged serpents, which advanced towards us at a frightful pace. With the sacred book in his hand the Persian advanced to meet them, and with one touch of this talisman laid them prostrate on the ground. This obstacle being overcome, we traversed the whole city, admiring its squares, houses, mosques, and palaces. But what had become of the inhabitants? By what scourge had they been cut off, or what reason had induced them to quit so beautiful a city? How long ago was it inhabited? My mind was lost in conjectures about what seemed so far beyond my comprehension, and my master made no reply to the questions which I addressed to him. At length we stopped at the open railing of some gardens surrounding an enormous palace, which surpassed all that the imagination could conceive. Bushy thickets; orchards covered with flowers and fruits; enamelled meads, watered by murmuring streams; parterres planted with the rarest and most variegated flowers, every where met the eye. The Persian sat down under the shadow of a tree, opened the book, and commenced reading, and when he had finished ordered me to enter the palace. I reached it by a staircase that could only have been constructed by the hands of genii; it was formed of the most rare and costly marble, as were also the statues which were placed at the sides. After having walked through many spacious and magnificent apartments richly adorned, I entered a subterranean hall, still larger and more splendid. A hundred crystal lustres, brilliant with gold and precious stones, and lit up with thousands of wax-lights, shed a refulgence more dazzling than the day. Its walls were covered with paintings, in which the spirit of evil strove in vain for the mastery over the spirit of good, and a long series of the statues of justly-renowned dead princes were ranged all around. Vacant pedestals, waiting to receive monarchs still living, whose names were inscribed on them, were also to be seen. In the centre of this subterranean apartment, a throne of gold arose, incrusted with pearls and rubies. On this throne an old man was reposing, with a countenance pale as death, but whose open eyes shone with a supernatural brilliancy. I saluted him respectfully, but he made no gesture. I spoke to him, and he made no reply. Seized with astonishment and fear, I returned to my master and told him what I had seen. "God be praised!" he said, "we are now near the end of our enterprise. Return, Noureddin, to the old man; go up to him fearlessly, and bring to me the chest on which his head rests." I obeyed, and on my return to the subterranean hall I drew near to the throne, to which three silver steps led up. When I placed my foot on the first step the old man stood up; in spite of my surprise I ascended the second step, when, seizing a bow, he placed a keen-pointed arrow in it, and aimed it at me. Without any consideration of my benefactor's orders, I jumped backwards and took to flight anew. When the Arab saw me, he said, "Is this what you promised me? cowardly man, come with me, and you will find inestimable riches!" I then conducted him to the place where the old man was to be found. When my master was near the throne, he ascended the first step, and the old man arose; at the second step he took his bow and arrow; and at the third he shot it at my master, who received it on the sacred book, from which it rebounded as from a steel cuirass, and fell broken on the ground. The old man fell back motionless on the throne, and his eyes ceased to shine. My master then laid hold of the mysterious chest of which he had spoken to me, and took from it the magic key which opened subterranean recesses where heaps of pearls, diamonds, and rubies were deposited. The Persian allowed me to take as much as I pleased. I filled my trousers and the folds of my robe and turban with the finest pearls, the largest diamonds, and many other kinds of precious stones. As Saadi the Wise passed by all these treasures without looking at them, I said to him, "O my lord, why do you leave here all this wealth, and take away with you, as the reward of so many fatigues, an article of so little value? The book of wisdom is now useless; what man is there who does not think himself wise?" "My son," replied the old man, "I am near the end of my career, and my life has been spent in the search after true wisdom. If I have done nothing to improve mankind, God, when I appear before Him, will reckon with me not only for the evil I shall have done, but also for the good I may have neglected to do. As for you, who have a wife and children, I approve of your wishing to provide for their future condition." We left the enchanted city and its treasures, which I greatly regretted not being able to carry away. When we reached the open country, I looked back to gaze upon the palace and city, but they had disappeared, at which I expressed my astonishment to my master, who replied, "Noureddin, do not seek to fathom the mysteries of knowledge, but be contented to rejoice with me at the success of our journey." We then directed our faces towards Bagdad, and at the end of a short time arrived there, without meeting with any thing else worth relating. My family were rejoiced at my return and at the good fortune I had so unexpectedly met with. The old man abode with us for some time, which he employed in reading the Gulistan and in giving me useful counsels as to my future conduct. "Noureddin," he said, "you are the possessor of great wealth; know how to make a good use of it; always remember the wretched condition in which I found you in the mosque; beware of bad company and pretended friends and flatterers; avoid covetousness, and be charitable toward the poor; remember the uncertainty of riches, and how Providence often punishes those who give way to ingratitude and pride." Besides his good advice, he would often relate to me instructive histories by way of example, and I shall not tire you too much if I repeat one of them to you. THE STORY OF THE DERVISE ABOUNADAR. A dervise, venerable from his age, fell ill at the house of a woman who was a widow, and who lived in a state of great poverty in the outskirts of Balsora. He was so affected by the care and zeal with which she had nursed him, that at the time of his departure he said to her, "I have noticed that your means are sufficient for yourself alone, and are not adequate for the additional support of your only son, the young Mujahid; but if you will entrust him to my care, I will do my utmost to repay through him the obligations which I am under to your care." The good woman received the proposal with pleasure, and the dervise took his departure with the young man, stating, at the same time, that they were to be absent two years on a journey. While travelling in various countries the widow's son lived in opulence with his protector, who gave him excellent instructions, attended to him in a dangerous illness which he had, and, in short, treated him in every respect as if he had been his only son. Mujahid often said how grateful he was for such kindness, and the old man's constant reply was, "My son, gratitude is shown by actions, not words; at the proper time and place we shall see how you estimate my conduct towards you." One day, in their journeyings, they reached a place out of the beaten road, and the dervise said to Abdallah, "We are now at the end of our travels; I am about to cause the earth to open and allow you to enter a place where you will find one of the greatest treasures in the bosom of the globe; have you courage sufficient to descend into this subterranean recess?" Mujahid declared that he might be depended upon for his obedience and zeal. The dervise then lighted a small fire, into which he threw some perfumes, and when he had pronounced some prayers the earth opened, and the dervise said to the young man, "You can now enter; remember that it is in your power to render me a great service, and that the present occasion is perhaps the only one when you can prove to me that you are not ungrateful. Do not allow yourself to be dazzled by all the wealth which you will find, but think only of getting possession of an iron chandelier with twelve branches which you will see near a door; lose no time in bringing it to me." The youth promised to attend to all that was required of him, and plunged into the subterraneous recess full of confidence in himself. Forgetting, however, what had been so expressly enjoined upon him, while he was busy filling his pockets with the gold and diamonds spread around in prodigious quantities, the entrance by which he had descended was closed. He had, however, the presence of mind to lay hold of the iron chandelier which the dervise had urged him to bring away; and although he was now, by the closing of the entrance, placed in circumstances which were enough to appal a stouter heart, he did not abandon himself to despair. While trying to discover some way of escape from a place which was likely otherwise to be his grave, he saw but too plainly that the opening had been closed upon him on account of his not having strictly followed the dervise's orders; and reflecting on the kindness and care with which he had been treated, he bitterly reproached himself for his ingratitude. At length, after a busy search and much anxiety, he was fortunate enough to discover a narrow passage that led out of this dark cavern. The opening was covered over with briers and thorns, through which he managed to struggle, and thus recovered the light of day. He looked around him every where for the dervise in order to deliver the chandelier to him, but in vain; he was not to be seen. Unable to recognize any of the places where he had been, he walked at random, and was very much astonished to find himself, after a short time, at his mother's door, from which he had thought himself at a great distance. In reply to her inquiries respecting the dervise, he frankly told her all that had happened, and the danger he had encountered in order to gratify the fancy of the dervise; and then he showed her the riches with which he was loaded. His mother concluded, on seeing all this wealth, that the dervise only wanted to try his courage and obedience, and that he ought to take advantage of his good luck, adding, that such was no doubt the intention of the holy man. While they gazed on these treasures with avidity, and framed a thousand dazzling projects for spending them, the whole vanished suddenly from their eyes. Mujahid then reproached himself again for his ingratitude and disobedience; and looking at the iron chandelier which alone remained of all his treasure, said, "What has happened is just. I have lost what I had no wish to render back; and the chandelier, which I desired to give to the dervise, remains with me,--a proof that it belongs to him, and that the rest was improperly obtained." So saying, he placed the chandelier in the middle of his mother's small house. When night came on, Mujahid thought he would put a light in the chandelier, by way of turning it to some use. No sooner had he done this, than a dervise immediately appeared, who, after turning round, vanished, and threw a small coin behind him. Mujahid, whose thoughts were occupied all next day with what he had seen the evening before, wished to see what would be the event if he placed a light in each of the twelve branches. He did so, and twelve dervises immediately appeared, who, after wheeling round, also became invisible, each of them at the same time throwing down a small coin. Every day Mujahid repeated the same ceremony with the same success; but he could only make it occur once in twenty-four hours. The moderate sum with which the dervises supplied him daily was sufficient for the subsistence of himself and his mother, and for a long time this was all that he desired. By and by, however, his imagination began to feast itself with the idea of the riches of the cavern, the sight of those which he had once thought to be safe in his possession, and the schemes which he had formed as to the use to be made of his wealth; all these things had left so deep an impression on his mind, that he found it impossible to rest. He resolved, therefore, if possible, to find out the dervise, and to take him the chandelier, in the hope of obtaining the treasure by bringing to the holy man an article for which he had shown so strong a desire. Fortunately Mujahid recollected the dervise's name, and the name of the city, Magnebi, where he dwelt. He set out on his journey as soon as possible, bidding farewell to his mother, and taking the chandelier with him, which supplied him every evening, after being lit, with the means of supporting himself, without having occasion to resort for assistance to the compassion of the faithful. When he reached Magnebi, his first inquiry was after the house where Abounadar lodged. He was so well known, that the first person he met could tell him his residence. On arriving at the house, or rather palace, he found fifty porters keeping watch at the door, each of them bearing a wand with a golden apple for its handle. The courts of the palace were crowded with slaves and domestics; indeed, no prince's residence ever displayed greater splendour. Mujahid, struck with astonishment and admiration, was reluctant to proceed further. "Either," said he to himself, "I have described the person whom I wanted imperfectly, or those to whom I spoke must have wished to make a mock of me, observing that I was a stranger. This is not the residence of a dervise, but of a king." Mujahid was in this state of embarrassment when a man came up to him and said, "You are welcome, Mujahid; my master, Abounadar, has been long expecting you;" and so saying, he conducted him into a magnificent garden, where the dervise was seated. Mujahid, struck with the riches which he saw every where around him, would have thrown himself at his feet, but Abounadar would not permit him, and interrupted him when he was about to make a merit of bringing back the chandelier which he presented to him, by saying, "You are an ungrateful wretch. Do you think to impose upon me? I know all your thoughts; and if you had known the worth of this chandelier, you would never have brought it to me. I shall now make you acquainted with its true use." In each of the branches of the chandelier he now placed a light; and when the dervises had turned round, Abounadar gave each of them a blow with a stick, and immediately they were converted into twelve heaps of sequins, diamonds, and other precious stones. "Look," he said, "at the use to be made of this wonderful chandelier. My only reason, however, for wishing to place it in my cabinet, was on account of its being a talisman composed by a sage whom I revered; and I shall be always happy to show it to persons who visit me. To prove to you," he continued, "that curiosity is the only reason which induced me to procure the lamp, take the keys of my cellars, open them, and judge for yourself of the extent of my opulence, and say if I should not be the most insatiably avaricious of all men, not to be contented with what I have." Mujahid took the keys, and made a survey of twelve magazines so filled with every description of precious stones, that he was unable to tell which of them most deserved his admiration. Regret at having restored the chandelier, and at not having discovered its uses, now wrung his heart intensely. Abounadar seemed not to perceive this, but on the contrary loaded Mujahid with caresses, kept him for some days in his palace, and desired his servants to treat him as they would himself. On the evening before the day fixed for his departure, Abounadar said to him, "Mujahid, my son, I think, from what has occurred, that you are now cured of the frightful sin of ingratitude; however, I owe you something for having undertaken so long a journey for the purpose of bringing to me an article which I wished to possess. You may now depart; I will detain you no longer. To-morrow you will find at the gate of my palace one of my horses to carry you home. I will make you a present of it, together with a slave who will bring you two camels loaded with gold and precious stones, which you can select for yourself from among my treasures." During the night Mujahid was restless and uneasy, and unable to think of any thing except the chandelier and its wonderful qualities. For a long time he said to himself, "It was in my power; Abounadar would never have obtained it but for me. What risks did I not encounter in the subterranean cave in order to secure it! Why is it that he is now the fortunate owner of this treasure of treasures? Is it not owing to my fidelity, or rather folly, in bringing it to him, that he now profits by the trouble and danger I underwent in the long journey I had to make? And what does he give me in return? only two miserable camels loaded with gold and precious stones, when in a moment the chandelier could supply me with ten times as much! It is Abounadar who is ungrateful, and not I who am so. What injury shall I do him by taking the chandelier? Not any; for he is rich, and wants nothing more." These ideas determined him, at last, to do all in his power to get possession of the chandelier; and it was not difficult to do so. He knew where to find it, and having taken it, he placed it at the bottom of one of his sacks which he had filled with the treasure given to him, and put the sack, along with the others, on the back of one of the camels. His only desire now was to get away, and after having hurriedly bid farewell to the generous Abounadar, he took his departure, with his slave and camels. When now at some considerable distance from Balsora, he sold his slave, not wishing to retain him as a witness of his former poverty, or of the source of his wealth. He purchased another, and went straight to his mother's house, whom he scarcely noticed, so absorbed was he with his treasures. His first care was to place the camels' luggage in a secure place; and, in his impatience to feast his eyes with solid riches, he placed lights in the chandelier without delay. The twelve dervises made their appearance, and he bestowed on each of them a blow with all his might, being afraid of not complying sufficiently with the laws of the talisman; but he had not noticed that Abounadar, when striking them, held his stick in his left hand. Mujahid naturally held his in his right hand, and the dervises, instead of being changed into heaps of treasure, drew from beneath their robes formidable bludgeons, with which they all belaboured him so long and so severely, that they left him nearly dead, after which they disappeared, carrying with them the camels and all their burdens, the horse, the slave, and the chandelier. Thus, for not being contented with a large fortune honestly acquired, Mujahid fell into a state of misery from which he never recovered--a suitable punishment for his ingratitude and avarice. The old man at last took his leave of us, and returned to Schiraz, his native place, bearing with him the blessings of all my family. After Saadi's departure, I unhappily neglected to follow his good advice. I purchased a new and splendid residence, where I lived in great splendour and luxury. Instead of being grateful to Heaven for its bounty, I became proud and insolent. I entertained and feasted all the gay companions I could meet with, while I refused to give alms, and drove the needy from my door; in short, I spent my money rapidly, and made the worst possible use of what I had so mysteriously acquired. My treasure soon began to run low; still I lived in the same profuse extravagance, until at last all was spent, and I found that, for some time, I had been living upon credit. The truth could no longer be concealed, and, being unable to meet the demands upon me, I had to sell off the whole of my property. A small sum would have sufficed to release me, so that I might again return to my trade, and, for this purpose, I appealed for assistance to my former friends and companions. Not one of these, however, would come forward in my behalf. The produce of the sale of my house and effects was insufficient to pay my debts, and I was consequently thrown into prison, where I have remained for three years, my family, in the mean time, living upon the casual alms of the faithful. The aid you have rendered me will suffice to set me free, and I am now resolved to labour with diligence, in order to repair, as far as possible, my past folly. [Illustration: Shooting at the Enchanted Keys, p. 29] CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF HASSAN ABDALLAH. In this manner our journey was beguiled, and on the sixth day, in the morning, we entered on an immense plain, whose glittering soil seemed composed of silver dust. In the middle of the plain arose a lofty pillar of granite, surmounted by a statue of copper, representing a young man, whose right hand was stretched out open, and to each of whose fingers was suspended a key; the first was of iron, the second of lead, the third of bronze, the fourth of copper, and the fifth of gold. This statue was the workmanship of an enchanter, and each key was a talisman; whoever was led by accident or his own free will into this desert, and became possessed of these keys, inherited the destiny attached to them. The first was the key of calamities, the second of physical sufferings, the third of death, the fourth of glory, and the last of knowledge and wealth. I was ignorant of all these matters; but my master had become acquainted with them from a learned Indian, who had also informed him that the keys could only be obtained by shooting them down with arrows. The Arab planted his foot near to the column, and then fixing an arrow in his bow, which was of a foreign make, he shot it towards the statue, but, whether from want of skill or intentionally, the arrow did not reach halfway. He then said to me, "Hassan, you have now an opportunity of discharging your debt to me, and of purchasing your liberty. You are both strong and skilful; take this bow and arrows, and bring me down those keys." I took the bow, and perceived that it was of Persian workmanship, and made by a skilful hand. In my youth, I had accustomed myself to this exercise, and had acquired great reputation in it. Desirous of displaying my attainments, I bent the bow with all my strength, and with the first arrow I brought down the first key. Overjoyed, I took it up, and presented it to my master. "Keep it," he said; "it is the reward of your skill." With a second arrow, I brought down the leaden one. The Arab would not touch it, and I took it, and put it in my belt, along with the other. With two other arrows, I brought down two more keys--the copper key and the golden key. My companion took them up, uttering exclamations of delight. "O Hassan," he said, "God be praised! blessed be he who trained your arm and practised your eye to such accuracy. I am proceeding happily towards the accomplishment of my object." I was about to aim at the last key--that of death, and had raised my bow for that purpose, but he forbade me, and struck my arm to prevent my shooting. In doing this, he caused the arrow to fall and pierce my foot, producing a painful wound. Having dressed it as well as he could, he assisted me to mount my camel, and we thereupon continued our journey. After three days and nights of laborious travelling, we arrived in the neighbourhood of a small wood, where we stopped to spend the night. I set about looking for water, and some refreshing fruits, and particularly some with whose good qualities I was acquainted, but I could find nothing eatable. At last I discovered in the crevice of a rock a small spring, which invited me, by its clear and limpid waters, to refresh myself; but stooping down to drink, I heard the voice of my companion shouting to me not to taste the water, for that it was poisoned. "What matters it," I said, "whether I die of thirst or of poison?" "This water," he said, "comes from the infernal regions, and passes through the mass of sulphur, bitumen, and metals that feed the fires in the centre of the earth; and if you drink, you will in all probability fall a victim to your imprudence." Although bitter, the water was so clear and fresh, that without heeding what he said, I drank some of it, and feeling refreshed for the time, I agreed to proceed on our journey, but I had scarcely gone on a hundred paces, when I was attacked by the most racking pains, and with many exclamations and cries to Heaven for help, I endeavoured to moderate the speed of my camel, who was following his companion at a brisk pace. My tortures became so great, that I called aloud to the Arab, and begged him to stop; he consented, when I dismounted and walked for some time, which partly relieved me. The Arab chid me for my disobedience to his commands, and taking out a small phial from his pocket, gave me a few drops of a cordial, which in a short time completely cured me. Towards evening we came near a high mountain, where we stopped to take a little rest. The Arab said, "God be praised, to-day will not be a fast day with us! by experience I have learned to collect a healthy and refreshing nourishment from a quarter where you would only find poison." He then went to a bush with leaves of a very thick and prickly nature, and having cut off some of them with his sabre, and stript them, of their skins, he extracted from them a yellow and sugary substance, similar in taste to figs, and I partook of the food until I was quite satisfied and refreshed. I was beginning to forget my sufferings, and hoped to pass the night in peaceful slumber, but when the moon arose my master said to me, "I expect you to perform a signal service for me; you have to ascend this mountain, and when at the summit, you must wait for sunrise; then, standing up and turning towards the East, you must offer up your devotions and descend; but take care, and do not allow yourself to be overtaken by sleep, for the emanations which arise from the ground in this place are extremely noxious, and you may suffer severely from them." Although overwhelmed with fatigue and pain, I obeyed the Arab's orders, remembering that he had given bread to my children; and that, perhaps, should I refuse, he would abandon me in this savage wilderness. I ascended the mountain and reached the summit about midnight. The soil was bare and stony; not a shrub, not a blade of grass was to be found upon it. The extreme cold, together with fatigue, threw me into such a state of torpor that I could not resist lying down on the earth and falling asleep. I awoke at the rising of the sun to fulfil my instructions. I stood up with difficulty; my aching limbs refused to support my body; my head hung down as if made of lead, and I was unable to lift up my paralyzed arms. Making a painful effort, and holding myself up towards the East, I invoked the name of God. I then endeavoured to descend the mountain, but it was so steep, and my weakness was so great, that at the first step my limbs tottered under me, and I fell, and rolled down the mountain with frightful rapidity; stones and thorns were the only obstacles to my descent, and they tore my dress and my skin, causing me to bleed at every pore. At length I reached the bottom of the hill, near to where my master was stretched on the ground, tracing lines on it with such attention, that he did not observe in what a state I was. "God be thanked and praised," he said, without noticing me; "we were born under a happy planet; every thing succeeds with us! Thanks to you, Hassan, I have just discovered what I wanted, by measuring the shadow projected by your head from the summit of the mountain. Assist me to dig where I have stuck my lance." He raised his head, and seeing me extended on the earth, motionless, came up to me, and exclaimed, "What! in disobedience to my orders you have slept on the mountain, and imbibed its unwholesome vapours into your blood! Do not despair, however, I will cure you;" and he took from his pocket a lancet, with which, before I could offer any resistance, he made small incisions in different parts of my body, from which I bled profusely. He then dressed my wounds and bruises carefully, and I felt a little better. Seeing that I was too weak to assist him, he began to dig in the earth himself at the place which he had marked. He soon exposed to view a tomb of white marble, which he opened; it contained some human bones, and a book written in letters of gold on the skin of the gazelle. My master began reading it with attention: at length his pale brow became lit up with pleasure, and his eyes sparkled with delight. "Hassan Abdallah," he said to me, "this book teaches me the way to the mysterious city; we shall soon enter into Aram, built on columns, where no mortal has ever as yet penetrated; it is there that we shall find the principle of earthly riches, the germ of the metallic mines which God has placed in the centre of the earth." "My lord," I replied, "I share with you in your joy; but this treasure is of little or no advantage to me; I would rather, I assure you, be poor and in good health at Cairo, than rich and in wretchedness here." "Ungrateful man!" he exclaimed; "I am labouring for your advantage as well as for my own, intending to share with you the fruit of our journey, as I have done until now." "True," I said, "but, alas! all the ill fortunes and calamities fall to me." However, after some further assurances on the part of the Arab, I became pacified, and the same day, after having laid in a stock of fruits, we reascended our camels, and continued our journey towards the East. We journeyed thus for three days and nights. The fourth day in the morning we perceived in the horizon the appearance of a large mirror, which reflected the sunbeams. On drawing near we saw that it was a river of quicksilver; it was crossed by a bridge of crystal, without balustrades, but so narrow and slippery that no man in his senses would think of attempting to pass it. My master told me to unsaddle the camels, to let them feed at liberty, and to prepare woollen slippers with thick and soft soles for both of us; and having ordered me to walk behind him without looking to the right hand or to the left, he crossed the bridge with a firm step, and I followed him trembling. After we had crossed the river and proceeded for some hours, we found ourselves at the entrance of a gloomy valley. It was surrounded on all sides with black rocks, hard as iron, and here and there on the ground were spread human bones, bleached by time. Through the dark foliage of the shrubs which grew there might be seen the undulating and scaly forms of serpents gliding along. I retreated hastily from this den of horror, but could not discover the spot at which I had entered, the rocks seeming every where to rise up like the walls of a great cavern. I began to weep, and said to my companion, "You have led me on to death by the path of suffering and misery; I shall never see my wife and children again. Why have you torn me away from my poor but peaceful home?" "Hassan," he said to me, "be a man! Have patience; we shall soon get out of this horrible place. Wait a few moments, and I will show you how we may escape." So saying, he sat down on the ground, and, opening the mysterious book, began turning over the pages and reading in it as calmly as if he had been sitting in his own house. After a short time he called to me, and said, "My friend, call up your courage, your task is easy; you are a skilful marksman; take this bow and arrows; examine the valley until you meet with a huge serpent with a black head, kill him and bring his head and heart to me." "Alas!" I said, weeping, "is this indeed a thing so easy for me? Why will you not do it yourself? We are too fortunate not to be molested by these monsters; why should we go in search of them?" Upon this he started up with a fierce aspect, and, drawing his sword, swore that he would kill me that instant if I did not obey him. "Do you see all these bones?" he said. "They are the bones of men who disobeyed me, and who died in consequence by my hand." Trembling, I took the bow and arrows, and went among the rocks where the serpents were to be found. Selecting one which appeared to me to answer the description given me, I took aim at its head, and, invoking the assistance of Heaven, discharged my arrow. The serpent, mortally wounded, sprung up, and twisting and contorting itself in a frightful manner, fell dead on the ground. When I was certain that he was dead, I took my knife, cut off his head, and took out his heart. With these bloody trophies I returned to my master, who received me with a smiling countenance. "Forgive me," he said, "for employing threats towards you; in reality I was anxious to save you from a miserable fate. The men to whom these bones belonged died here of hunger by their own fault; they proved deficient in courage, and I was compelled, in spite of myself, to abandon them to their fate." "Now," he continued, "come and assist me to make a fire." I collected dry leaves and small branches of trees, of which he made a small heap; then turning an enchanted diamond towards the sun, which was then in its meridian, a ray of light issued from the precious stone which set the materials in a blaze. He next drew from under his robe a small iron vase and three phials; the first, of ruby, contained the elements of winds; the second, of emerald, contained a ray of moonlight; and the third, which was of gold, contained the blood of a phoenix. All these substances he placed in the vase, and added the heart and brain of the serpent. He then opened the book and put the vase on the fire, pronouncing at the same time some words which to me were unintelligible. When he had finished, he uncovered his shoulders, as the pilgrims do at their departure, and dipping a portion of his garment in the mixture, handed it to me, desiring me to rub his back and shoulders with it. As I did so I observed the skin swell out and wings spring forth, which, visibly increasing in size, soon reached the ground. The Arab spread them and began to rise in the air. Fear of remaining in this doleful place lent me courage, and laying hold with all my might of the end of his girdle, I was borne up along with him, and in a few moments we bade farewell to the black rocks of this fatal valley. Presently, as we pursued this aërial tour, we found ourselves soaring above an immense plain, surrounded by a precipice of crystal, tinged with azure and purple. The earth seemed formed of golden dust, and the pebbles upon it looked like precious stones. Before us were the lofty walls of a city crowded with magnificent palaces and delicious gardens. Lost in admiration of this glorious scene, the Arab forgot to keep his wings moving, and we descended rapidly towards the ground, which I of course reached first, he falling upon me. I then perceived his wings gradually diminish, and by degrees wholly disappear. When I noticed this to him, he replied, that, unfortunately, science was limited in its powers; it enabled him to construct wings of great power, but could not avail for their preservation beyond a certain time. "To become the possessor," said he, "of the ingredients which you saw me employ in forming these wings, I have spent thirty years of my life, the lives of many men, and money sufficient for a king's ransom. The wings helped me but for a few moments, long enough, however, for my purpose; they have borne me to glory and fortune. Rejoice, Hassan Abdallah; behold Aram, the city built on columns, the mysterious city!" [Illustration: The Escape of Hassan Abdallah and the Arab from the Enchanted Valley, p. 36.] We then approached the walls; they were built of alternate layers of bricks of gold and silver. The battlements were of marble, cut and sculptured by the hands of genii. There were eight gates in the walls,--the number of the gates of paradise; the first was of silver, the second of gold, the third of agate, the fourth of coral, the fifth of pearl, the sixth of topaz, the seventh of emerald, and the eighth of ruby. The Arab informed me that this city had been built by the famous enchanter Tchedad, the son of Aad, who had exhausted upon it all the treasures of earth, sea, and sky. He wanted in his pride to rival the glory of the Almighty by this piece of workmanship; but God, to punish him, struck him and his family with lightning at the very instant he and they were solemnly taking possession of the palace. An impenetrable veil hangs over the city ever since, and no one has been able to discover it. We went forward, invoking the name of God; the streets were lined with palaces adorned with columns of marble, agate, and all kinds of costly materials; streams of odoriferous waters embalmed and refreshed the atmosphere; trees of a wondrous form furnished a delicious shelter from the rays of the sun, and in their branches birds of song produced concerts of ravishing sweetness. The very air that one breathed seemed to fascinate the mind, and to lift it up to heaven. The Arab, taking me by the hand, conducted me towards the palace of Tchedad; its construction, in point of art and splendour of adornment, was unspeakably magnificent. Terraces, formed of coloured crystal, were supported on a thousand columns of gold. In the midst of the palace was an enchanted garden, where the earth, breathing of musk, bore fruits and flowers of marvellous richness and beauty. Three rivers surrounded the garden, flowing with wine, rose-water, and honey. In the centre of the garden there was a pavilion, whose dome, formed of a single emerald, overshadowed a throne of gold covered with pearls and rubies. On the throne there was a small chest of gold; the Arab opened it, and found in it a red powder. "Throw away this dust," I said, "and fill the casket with precious stones." "Poor fool that you are," he replied; "this dust is the source of all the riches of the world; it is red sulphur. A small portion of it is sufficient to change into gold the basest metals. With it I can build palaces, found cities, purchase the life of men and the admiration of beautiful women. I can even, if I please, cause myself to become prince and king; but I cannot by it prolong my life a single day, or efface an hour from my by-past existence. God alone is great! God alone is eternal!" Whilst he thus spoke, I employed myself in collecting precious stones and pearls, filling with them my girdle, pockets, and turban. "Unhappy man!" he cried, "what are you doing? You will bring down upon us the vengeance of Heaven. We are only permitted to touch this casket; and if we should attempt to carry out of the valley a leaf from one of these trees, or a stone from off the ground, instantaneous death would be our lot." I immediately emptied my pockets, much to my regret, and followed my master, not however without often turning my head aside to look at the incalculable riches spread around me. Fearing that I should fall a prey to the seductions of wealth, my master took me by the hand and led me out of the city. We quitted it by the path by which we came, but more slowly than we approached. When we arrived at the crystal precipice it opened before us, and we passed through it; when we had done so, we looked about in vain for the wonderful plain and the city,--they could no longer be seen. We found ourselves on the brink of the river of quicksilver, and crossed the bridge. Our camels were feeding on the flowery herbage, and I ran to mine with delight, as to an old friend. After refastening our girths, we mounted and set out on the road to Egypt. We were three months in reaching Cairo. During all this time I suffered many privations; my health was destroyed, and I endured every kind of evil. From some fatality, the cause of which was unknown to me at the time, I alone was exposed to all the accidents of the journey, while my companion continued in health and comfort, passing safely through every danger. I discovered afterwards that all my misfortunes arose from my having in my possession the enchanted keys. This was one day towards the close of our journey, when the Arab confessed to me that he was aware of this fatal quality of theirs, and that it was in order to free himself from it that he purchased me. When I wanted to throw away the accursed keys, he withheld me. "Patience and resignation," said he, "and these virtues only, can exhaust their evil influence, and for your own sake I would advise you to keep them to the end. All will turn out eventually for your good." A few days after receiving this communication we arrived at Cairo, and I immediately ran to my home, the door of which was open and broken, and the interior occupied by crowds of famished and prowling dogs, who had taken up their abode there. A neighbour, who heard me calling out in an agony of despair, opened her door, and said to me, "Hassan Abdallah, is that you? Well may you be astounded! Know that some time after your departure,--that is, about five months ago,--some thieves, knowing that you were absent, and that there was no male slave left to take care of your house, broke into your house during the night, insulted the women, and went off with all the property that you had left. Your mother died a few days after, in consequence. Your wife, in her destitution, resolved to go to Alexandria, to her brother. The caravan which she accompanied was attacked by the Arabs of the desert, who, being enraged at the resistance they met with, put all to the sword without mercy." On hearing these sad tidings, I shed many tears, and returning to the Arab, accused him with being the cause of all my misfortunes. "God is the author and end of all things," he said to me, and then, taking me by the hand, led me along with him. It appeared that on the same day he had hired a magnificent palace, to this he now compelled me to repair and reside with him; and for my consolation, he told me that he would share with me the treasures of science, and teach me to read in the book of alchemy. Here we resided a long time: whenever his costly fancies caused him to be in want of money, he used to have several hundred-weight of lead conveyed secretly to him, and when it was melted he threw some small portions of red sulphur into it, and in a moment the vile metal was changed into the purest gold. In the midst of all this luxury, I continued ill and unhappy; my feeble body was unable to support the weight, or to endure the contact of the rich clothes and the precious stuffs with which I was covered. The most delicate food was served up to me in vain, and the most delicious wines; I only felt disgusted and disinclined towards them all. I had superb apartments, beds formed of sweet smelling and costly woods, and divans of purple; but sleep, in spite of all, was a stranger to my eyes. I called on death, but he refused to come to me. The Arab, on the other hand, passed his time in pleasure and feasting. The palace gardens extended to the banks of the Nile; they were planted with the rarest trees, brought at a great expense from India, Persia, China, and the isles. Machines, constructed with great skill, raised the water of the Nile, and caused it to fall in fresh and brilliant jets into marble reservoirs, "'Mid orange groves and myrtle bowers, that breathed a gale of fragrance round," mingled with the perfume of jasmines and roses; there were silken pavilions, embroidered with gold, and supported on pillars of gold and silver; brilliant lamps, enclosed in globes of crystal, shed over all a light soft and effulgent as that of the moon. There, on each returning night, the Arab received his companions, and treated them with the utmost magnificence. His liberality made every one who approached him his friend, and they styled him the Great, the Magnificent. He would sometimes come to see me at the pavilion, where my illness compelled me to remain, a solitary prisoner. On one such occasion, he paid me his visit after a night of pleasure, early in the morning. He was heated with wine, his face red, and his eyes shining with a strange lustre. He sat down beside me, and taking hold of my hand, began singing, and when he had concluded, shut his eyes, leaned his head on his breast, and appeared to fall asleep. Alarmed at length at his unnatural stillness, I leaned over to him; his breathing had ceased, he had expired. Perceiving that all help was useless, I began to rummage his pockets, his girdle, and his turban, in the hope of finding the keys of happiness and of wisdom, but could not discover them. I thereupon, in spite of my bad state of health, and without losing a moment, laid hold of the casket containing the book of alchemy and the red sulphur; and considering that I might lawfully regard myself as the legitimate proprietor, I carried it secretly to my former house, which I had previously caused to be rebuilt and provided with new furniture. Returning to the palace just as I had left it, I began to cry aloud, and to ask for help; the slaves and servants ran immediately to know what was the matter, and I then sent them to bring the best physician, even the caliph's, if he could be found. When the medical men came they declared that the stranger had died by the will of God. I then gave orders for the funeral. His body, attired in the richest vestments, was placed, exposed to view, in a coffin of aloe-wood, lined with gold. A cloth of a marvellously fine tissue, which had been manufactured for a Persian prince, served for a coverlet. Fifty servants, all dressed in mourning attire, bore, in turns, the coffin on their shoulders; and every good mussulman who passed by, hastened to lend his assistance, if it were only by a helping hand. A considerable number of women, hired for the purpose, followed the bier, uttering plaintive cries. The keepers of the mosque sung sacred verses, and the crowd repeated, "God is God! There is no God but God! He alone is eternal." In this order, accompanied by numerous friends whom the Arab had made by his generosity, we proceeded to the cemetery, southward of the city, and near to the gate of Bab-el-Masr (the gate of victory). I gave a purse of gold to a skilful architect, with orders to raise a tomb to the memory of my master. Returning to the palace, it fell to my lot, of course, to preside at the funeral repast. This painful duty was scarcely over, when I saw some officers from the caliph arrive, who were commanded by his order to take possession of the wealth contained in the palace, and which belonged to him, as a stranger's heir. I was driven away, and left the palace, taking with me, in appearance, nothing but the dress which I wore, but, in reality, the owner of an inestimable treasure. Betaking myself to my house, I resolved to live there an unknown and peaceful life, passing the time in the study of the sciences, and only using the red sulphur to impart benefit to others in secret. A curious and jealous neighbour having ascended the terrace of my house one evening, and seen me at work, effecting the transmutation of the lead into gold, told my secret to his wife, who repeated it at the bath, and next morning all Cairo was acquainted with it. The report reached the ears of the caliph, Theilon, who sent for me, and told me that he knew I possessed the great secret of knowledge, and that if I would share it with him, he would overwhelm me with honours, and associate me with him in rank. I refused to the impious man the distinguished favour which God had denied to him. Transported with rage, he caused me to be loaded with chains, and thrown into a gloomy dungeon; and being baffled in his attempts to penetrate my secret, he placed the casket and the book under the care of a person on whose fidelity he could depend, hoping to force the secret from me by the sufferings which he made me endure. In this state I have lived for forty years. By my persecutor's orders, I have been made to undergo all kinds of privations and tortures, and only knew of his death by my being relieved from punishment. This morning, when kneeling on the ground at my devotions, I put my hand on a strange and hard substance. Looking at it, I perceived that it was the fatal keys which I had years ago buried under the floor of my dungeon. They were so worn by rust and damp, that they crumbled into powder in my hand, and I then thought that God intended to have pity upon me, and that my afflictions were about to end, either by death or the alleviation of my sufferings. A few moments after, your officers came and set me at liberty. "Now, O king!" continued the old man, "I have lived long enough, since I have been permitted to approach the greatest and most upright of monarchs." Mohammed, overjoyed at performing an act of justice, thanked Heaven for having sent him such a treasure, and being desirous to prove its reality, he caused one thousand hundred-weight of lead to be melted in immense caldrons; and having mixed some of the red powder in the fiery mass, and pronounced over it the magical words dictated to him by the old man, the base metal was instantly changed into pure gold. The caliph, in order to propitiate the favour of Heaven, resolved to employ this treasure in the building of a mosque which should transcend by its magnificence every other in the world. He collected architects from all the neighbouring countries, laid before them the plan of a vast edifice, unfettered by the difficulties or expense of its execution. The architects traced out an immense quadrangle, the sides of which faced the four cardinal points of the heavens. At each corner a tower of prodigious height was placed, of admirable proportions; the top of the structure was surrounded with a gallery and crowned with a dome of gilt copper. On each side of the edifice one thousand pillars were raised, supporting arches of an elegant curve and solid construction, and on the arches terraces were laid out with balustrades of gold of exquisite workmanship. In the centre of the edifice an immense pavilion was erected, whose construction was of so light and elegant a nature, that one would have thought it reached from earth to heaven. The vault was inlaid with azure-coloured enamel and studded with golden stars. Marbles of the rarest kinds formed the pavement, and the walls consisted of a mosaic formed of jasper, porphyry, agate, mother-of-pearl, sapphires, rubies, and other precious stones. The pillars and arches were covered with arabesques and verses from the Koran, carved in relief, and painted. No wood was employed in the building of this wonderful edifice, which was therefore fire-proof. Mohammed spent seven years in erecting this celebrated mosque, and expended on it a sum of two millions of dinars. Although so old, Hassan Abdallah recovered his health and strength, and lived to be a hundred years of age, honoured with the esteem and the friendship of the caliph. The mosque built by the caliph Mohammed is still to be seen at Cairo, and is the largest and the finest of all the mosques of that great city. * * * * * One day, very shortly after the completion of the mosque, the caliph and Hassan Abdallah were absent for three days on a journey. Mohammed communicated to no one but his first vizir his intention; but on his return he assembled his whole court, and informed them that the object of the expedition had been to bury the casket, with the book and the powder, where it was impossible they could ever be discovered. "I have done," added Mohammed, "what I could to consecrate this wonderful treasure, but I would not trust even myself any longer with so dangerous a temptation." FOOTNOTES: [1] Most of our readers will also recognize in the Story of the Princess Schirine the groundwork of one of Hans Andersen's beautiful Danish Tales, "The Flying Trunk." II. SOLIMAN BEY AND THE THREE STORY-TELLERS. Soliman Bey, passing one day along a street in Cairo, saw three common-looking men seated at the door of a coffee-house and sipping their cup of mocha. From their dull and meaningless looks he conjectured that they were under the influence of haschich[2]. After looking at them attentively, the bey saluted them, and was pursuing his way, when he suddenly found himself obliged to stop, as a long train of camels, heavily laden, blocked up the street and prevented him from passing on. The bey, having nothing better to do, amused himself by scrutinizing attentively the eaters of haschich, who were old men. A warm discussion seemed to be going on among them; they raised their arms, vied with each other who should cry the loudest, and made the strangest possible grimaces; but owing to the distance at which he stood, he was unable to hear what they said. On his return home, being curious to know the subject of their dispute, he sent his officer to beg these three originals to wait upon him. When they arrived, he said to them, "What were you disputing about, my friends, when I passed you?" "May Allah prolong your days!" replied one of them; "we were disputing about which of us it was to whom the salutation belonged that your highness addressed to us, for each of us took that honour to himself." The bey burst out laughing. "I greeted," he said, after a moment's reflection, "him among you who did the greatest number of foolish things while intoxicated by the haschich." "It was I, my lord," they all at once exclaimed. "Stop," replied the bey; "let each of you tell me one of the tricks played him by the haschich, and the honour of my greeting shall be his who shall have committed the greatest act of folly; and do you begin," added the bey, pointing to one of the men. THE FIRST STORY-TELLER. "Be it known to you, my lord," said the first story-teller, "that a short time ago I had in my purse a thousand piastres, which were enough for my expenses, and I was contented with my lot. One day, however, I had been taking a walk, and on my return I sat down to rest and chewed a bit of haschich, took my coffee, and lit my pipe; in two or three hours my head began to buzz. I went out again and walked about the streets. In front of a coffee-house I noticed some men collected round an _improvisatore_, who was singing and accompanying himself on the timbrel. I sat down in the circle and asked for coffee. I lighted my pipe and commenced listening. The improvisatore depicted a young girl. Oh, how beautiful she was! it was impossible not to love her. Compared with her Iyleika[3] was but as a star in the presence of the sun, and Ablia[3] but as the dirt of the street. I was so captivated by his description of the beautiful girl, that when he ceased I gave him all the money I had about me. "Next day, at the same hour, while the haschich was boiling in my brain, I ran to the coffee-house, where the improvisatore was commencing the continuation of his yesterday's story. He now told how paladins and padishahs disputed for the possession of my adorable Haridée, and how she disdained their love and refused their offers. I became more distracted this time than before, and the improvisatore got from me twice as much as he did the day before. I gave him all that I had, even to the last farthing. "Next day I never left my little seat at the _café_. The improvisatore struck his tambourine this time with more vehemence while singing the charms of the beautiful Haridée. He then began to relate how Haridée was in love with a certain worthless fellow. At this it was impossible to tell what I felt; the hydra of jealousy devoured my heart and poured a maddening poison through my veins. I became as one deprived of all sense and feeling. But stop; the parents have separated the lovers and plunged them in an ocean of tears. I again breathed more freely, and emptied my pockets to fill the purse of the improvisatore. "Thus were passed many days in succession. The flame of love and the stings of jealousy tormented me without ceasing. The haschich did its part unremittingly, and threw me at one moment into fire, and at another into ice and snow, hurling me from the height of bliss into the depths of misery. My fortunes fell with me, and I soon became totally destitute. But my thoughts were otherwise taken up than with eating or drinking; my love for Haridée had become the only source to me of life and action. In this way, with empty stomach and purse, I went one day to the _café_ after having paid a few paras for a little haschich. I listened--the voice of the improvisatore trembled; in truth he wept, and grief was depicted on his features. "'What has happened?' I asked, drawing near to him. "'Poor Haridée!' he replied. "'What is the matter? What has taken place?' I exclaimed. "'She is dead!' he muttered. "I wept, I tore my clothes, and fled I scarce knew where. When the first transports of my despair had subsided, I saw pass before my eyes, still under the influence of the haschich, the funeral of Haridée. The mournful cry of 'There is no God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet,' echoed in my ears, amidst the outcries and the lamentations of the women. I ran like a madman from street to street, while the crowd followed on my path with the coffin of Haridée, and the frightful groans and cries burst forth louder and louder on my ears. At length, worn out, and sore all over, I fell down in a state of complete unconsciousness, and when I came to myself, I perceived that I was at the threshold of my own home. I arose, and endeavoured to recal past events, which as they woke up in my memory caused me to feel the utmost surprise. My purse was empty, my heart broken, and the blood was flowing down my face, for in my fall I had cut open my head. After remaining a whole day in the house, I took a small piece of haschich and went to a coffee-house near at hand, where my friend the landlord poured me out a cup of mocha, and gave me a pipe. It was there that I met my two friends, and received from you, my gracious lord, a look, and a nod." "This story is not a bad one," replied Soliman Bey, "but do not too hastily take to yourself the honour of my greeting; let me hear first what the others have to say." THE SECOND STORY-TELLER. "Know, my lord," replied the second, "that I was formerly a rich and respected merchant, with a beautiful wife and fine children. My life was like a morning of spring-time--clear, peaceful, and balmy. But haschich has ruined the structure of my happiness, and destroyed it from the roof to the foundations. One day when I had imbibed a little of this fatal poison, I was reclining, after the labours of the day, on my sofa, sipping from time to time a mouthful of coffee, and inhaling a whiff of perfumed _latakia_. My wife was occupied at my side in embroidery, and my children were at play in the room, which they made ring again with their shrill voices. At length, my brain becoming overpowered by the vapours of the haschich, the thickening fancies began to chase each other in quick succession, and my imagination at length became morbidly excited. The cries of my children seemed insupportable to me. I ordered them several times to be quiet, but the brats, wild with their games and noise, paid no attention to me. At last I lost patience, laid hold of my stick, and rapped angrily on the floor, ordering them sternly to be quiet. In the midst of this fit of anger, I stopped short, all of a sudden. The floor of my apartment emitted a hollow sound, as if there were a vault beneath it. The haschich suggested to me that there might be hidden treasure down below. 'Oh, oh,' I said to myself, 'I must not be in a hurry. If I should discover the treasure in my wife's presence, she will foolishly run and trumpet it about to all our neighbours. What good would that do? Let me consider, then, what I shall do to get her away.' Intoxicated as I was, there was no need to deliberate long. I darted from my seat, exclaiming, 'Woman! thou art separated from me by a triple divorce!'[4] "My wife became pale as death. She threw aside her embroidery, and rose up. "'What is the matter, my dear husband? What has happened? Of what have I been guilty?' "'Don't say a word! And hasten this moment to leave the house, with your children.' "'But pray inform me, my lord and master, when and how I have given you any cause of complaint? We have now lived together twelve years in perfect peace and harmony, and never been but on the most affectionate terms; tell me.' "'No more explanations,' I replied; 'here are a thousand _grouches_[5]. Go to your room, and take of the furniture as much as you require, and return to your father's house.' "Sadly and sorrowfully she thereupon proceeded to collect her wearing apparel, uttering mournful cries and lamentations, and taking her children with her, left the house. "'Now!' I exclaimed, with satisfaction, 'now, I am quite alone.' "'Silence, Abou-Kalif,' whispered the haschich to me; 'don't be in such haste. Suppose you find this treasure, who knows but that at the first meeting of haschich-eaters, you will disclose your discovery to all the world. Put yourself to the proof beforehand, by some effectual means, and thus find out if your tongue have sufficient self-command to keep still, and not say one word too much.' "Faithful to the voice of my inward monitor, I arose, and taking from my chest the sum of five hundred grouches, went to pay a visit to the vali[6]. "'Here,' said I to him, 'take this money, and give me on the soles of my feet five hundred blows with a leathern thong, and, while laying them on, ask me if I have seen, found, or discovered any thing?' "The man was extremely surprised at my request, and refused to comply with it; but the people about him said that my body was my own, and that I was at liberty to dispose of it as I thought proper. 'Take his money,' they said to him, 'and give him a hearty flogging.' "The vali, shrugging his shoulders, gave the signal; I was laid on the ground, my feet were tied together, and the lash whistled and sung on my bare feet. At each blow, the question I had suggested was asked, and I replied in the negative. This system of question and answer went on till the last blow. Fairly exhausted with the pain, I fell down the moment I attempted to stand up. I therefore crawled along on my knees, and reached my ass, on whose back I managed, somehow or other, to raise myself, and thus reached my home. "A few days' rest having restored me in some measure, I resolved to prosecute my search for the hidden treasure. But the haschich, to which I had not forgotten on that day to pay my usual respects, stopped me in my intention. 'O Abou-Kalif,' it muttered in my ear, 'you have not yet put yourself sufficiently to the proof. Are you now in a fit state to resist all attempts to make you disclose your secret? Submit to another trial, my good fellow!' This suggestion was all-powerful, and I submitted forthwith. I drew from my strong-box one thousand grouches, and went to the aga of the Janissaries. 'Take this money,' I said to him, 'and give me in exchange for it a thousand stripes with a thong on the bare back; asking me between the blows, Have you seen any thing? have you found any thing? have you discovered any thing?' The aga did not keep me waiting long for a reply,--and having pocketed the money, bestowed upon me most faithfully the full complement of the lashes desired. "At the conclusion of the whipping my soul seemed hovering on my lips, as if about to leave my mutilated body, which was quite prostrated by the infliction. I was obliged to be carried to my ass, and it was many days before I could set my feet to the ground. When I had recovered a little, I recollected all the details of the strange adventure which had brought upon me the acute anguish that I felt in every part of my body; and the more I reflected on the matter, the more vividly I saw the fatal consequences that would follow from too much confidence in the suggestions inspired by the haschich. I cursed the hateful ideas produced by the vapours of this drug, and promised myself that I would amend my ways, and repair, as far as possible, my injustice to my wife. But at the very moment when this praiseworthy resolution arose in my brain and diffused its odours there, like a fresh-opening flower, my hand, from the strength of habit, sought for the tin box that lay under my pillow, and drew from it a white particle, which I placed in my mouth, as if to mock all the weak efforts of my will. In fact, while my mind was occupied in planning a final rupture with the perfidious hempen-seed, my enemy stole in on me like a midnight robber by night, imposed his yoke, and overthrew completely all my good intentions. Unwittingly I found myself again in the power of the enemy. 'Well, Abou-Kalif,' he said, 'arise. The precautions you have taken are sufficiently severe; it is time to set to work, and not allow the favourable moment to escape, otherwise you may repent it.' In this manner spake the delusive poison working within me, and I was wholly in its power, incapable of resistance. I rose from my bed with a frightful pain in my back and sides, dragged myself along towards the mysterious flag-stone, and with my heart beating violently, and my brain cloudy and obscured, I set to work to raise the stone, which speedily yielded to my efforts. In a state of the highest excitement, I sat down on the edge of the cavern with my legs hanging down into it, and my hands leaning on its sides; I scarcely dared to look downwards. The haschich, however, pushed me forwards, and seemed to press on my shoulders. My hands at last yielded, and I fell down. O my sovereign and master, do not ask where I found myself; enough that I felt myself stifled. The noisome matter into which I had fallen up to the chin, being disturbed and agitated, had emitted exhalations which fairly suffocated me. I strove to cry out, but in vain. I fainted, and lost all consciousness. "Meanwhile, whilst I, pursued by the fatal influence of the haschich, had fallen over the edge of the precipice, where I was now struggling, my disconsolate wife had begged her father to allow her to make inquiry respecting me. 'I know,' she said, weeping, 'that a sudden attack of madness has seized him, and that the real cause of his sending me away, as well as of all the evil that has just befallen us, is the haschich. Let no curse fall upon him. No doubt my husband will change his conduct with regard to me, as I cannot reproach myself with any thing; I will therefore go and see what has happened to him.' 'Well, my child, you may go,' replied her father; 'I shall not seek to hinder you.' She went, and knocked at the door, but no one replied. She then inquired of the neighbours if Abou-Kalif was at home; they said they had not seen him leave the house for the last week. On being told this, she had the door burst open, and, followed by a crowd of neighbours of both sexes, searched for me for a long time in vain. At last, however, I was discovered, half dead and stifled. They pulled me out, cleansed and sweetened me, and attired me in a fresh suit of clothes; after which I left the house to breathe the fresh air and recover myself. It was not long, however, before the haschich regained its old dominion over me, and led me to the coffee-house, where you saw me, and condescended to honour me with your greeting." "Not quite so soon," exclaimed the bey, holding his sides with laughter; "your story is also a very good one, but before I award to you the honour of my salutation, I must hear what your other companion has got to say." THE THIRD STORY-TELLER. "Sovereign and master," commenced the third eater of haschich, "no longer ago than a week I was so happy and satisfied with my lot, that in truth I would not have exchanged it even for your own. I had a house filled with every comfort, plenty of money, and a wife who was a miracle of beauty. One day this charming better half of myself, after having passed all the day in the bath, returned from it looking so clean, fresh, and rosy, that my head, where the haschich which I had been taking for the last hour and a half was breeding disorder, became on fire and was lost. My eyes grew intoxicated with my wife, as if I had then beheld her beauty for the first time, and my heart bounded like the holy waves of the Nile during a storm. "'Dear cousin,' I cried, for she was my cousin as well as my wife, 'how captivating you are to-day! I am over head and ears in love with you again!' "At this instant the haschich suggested to me to divorce her immediately in order to contract a new marriage and taste again the bliss of a first union. No sooner said than done; I pronounced the prescribed phrase, and the next day I celebrated a new marriage with her[7]. When the festivities were over, I conducted my relations and guests to the door, which, from absence of mind, I had forgotten to shut. "'Dear cousin,' said my wife to me when we were alone, 'go and shut the street door.' "'It would be strange indeed if I did,' I replied. 'Am I just made a bridegroom, clothed in silk, wearing a shawl and a dagger set with diamonds, and am I to go and shut the door? Why, my dear, you are crazy; go and shut it yourself!' "'Oh indeed!' she exclaimed; 'am I, young, robed in a satin dress, with lace and precious stones, am I to go and shut the court-yard door? No, indeed, it is you who have become crazy, and not I. Come, let us make a bargain,' she continued; 'and let the first who speaks get up and bar the door.' "'Agreed,' I replied, and straightway I became mute, and she too was silent, while we both sat down, dressed as we were in our nuptial attire, looking at each other, and seated on opposite sofas. We remained thus for one--two--hours. During this time thieves happening to pass by, and seeing the door open, entered and laid hold of whatever came to their hand. We heard footsteps in the house, but opened not our mouths; the robbers came even into our room, and saw us seated, motionless and indifferent to all that took place. They continued therefore their pillage, collecting together every thing valuable, and even dragging away the carpets from beneath us; they then laid hands on our own persons, which they despoiled of every article worth taking, while we, in the fear of losing our wager, said not a word. "Having thus cleared the house, the thieves departed quietly, but we remained on our seats, saying not a syllable. Towards morning a police officer came round on his tour of inspection, and, seeing our door opened, walked in. Having searched all the rooms and found no one, he entered the apartment where we were seated, and inquired the meaning of what he saw. Neither my wife nor I would condescend to reply. The officer became angry, and ordered our heads to be cut off. The executioner's sword was just about to perform its office, when my wife cried out, 'Sir, he is my husband, spare him!' "'Oh, oh!' I exclaimed, overjoyed and clapping my hands, 'you have lost the wager; go, shut the door.' "I then explained the whole affair to the police officer, who shrugged his shoulders and went away, leaving us in a truly dismal plight. Immediately after I went to a coffee-house, where you deigned to honour me with a salutation." * * * * * At the conclusion of this story the bey, who was ready to die with laughter, exclaimed, "This time it is you who are in the right; you are truly entitled to my respects." FOOTNOTES: [2] An intoxicating drug, like opium. [3] Personages who figure in Arabian legends. [4] This is the legal form of pronouncing a divorce among the Mahometans. [5] A small coin, in circulation in Turkey, about the value of eighteenpence of our money. It is probably from the same root as the German _groschen_. [6] The public executioner. [7] The Mahometans may immediately take back the woman whom they had divorced, but a fresh marriage ceremony must take place. III. THE STORY OF PRINCE KHALAF AND THE PRINCESS OF CHINA. Prince Khalaf was the son of an aged khan of the Nagäi-Tartars. The history of his time makes honourable mention of his name. It relates that he surpassed all the princes of the age in beauty, in wisdom, and in valour; that he was as learned as the greatest doctors of his age; that he could fathom the deepest mysteries of the commentaries on the Koran; and that he knew by heart the sayings of the prophet: it speaks of him, in short, as the hero of Asia and the wonder of the East. This prince was the soul of the councils of his father Timurtasch. When he gave advice, the most accomplished statesmen approved it, and could not sufficiently admire his prudence and wisdom. If, moreover, it were necessary to take up arms, he was immediately seen at the head of the troops of the state, seeking out the enemy, engaging them and vanquishing them. He had already won several victories, and the Nagäis had rendered themselves so formidable by their repeated successes, that the neighbouring nations did not venture to quarrel with them. Such was the prosperous state of affairs in the khan's dominions, when an ambassador from the sultan of Carisma arrived at the court of Timurtasch, and demanded in the name of his master that the Nagäis should henceforth pay him a yearly tribute; he added that in default he would come in person, with an overwhelming force, and compel them to submit, at the same time depriving their sovereign of his crown as a punishment for his refusal. On hearing this arrogant message, the khan immediately assembled his council in order to decide whether to pay the tribute rather than risk a war with so powerful an enemy, or whether to treat his menaces with contempt and prepare to repel the invaders. Khalaf, with the majority of the council, were of the latter opinion, and the ambassador being dismissed with a refusal, took his departure for Carisma. The khan lost no time in sending deputies to the neighbouring nations, in order to represent to them that it was to their interest to unite with him against the sultan of Carisma, whose ambition now exceeded all bounds, and who would undoubtedly exact the same tribute from them if he should succeed in conquering the Nagäis. The deputies succeeded in these negotiations; the neighbouring nations and tribes, and amongst them the Circassians, engaged to join in the proposed confederation, and to furnish among them a quota of fifty thousand men. On this promise, the khan proceeded to raise fresh troops, in addition to the army which he already had on foot. While the Nagäis were making these preparations, the sultan of Carisma assembled an army of two hundred thousand men, and crossed the Jaxartes at Cogende. He marched through the countries of Ilac and Saganac, where he found abundance of provisions; and had advanced as far as Jund, before the army of the khan, commanded by prince Khalaf, was able to take the field, in consequence of the Circassians and the other auxiliary troops not having been able sooner to join him. As soon as these succours arrived, Khalaf marched direct towards Jund, but he had scarcely passed Jenge Kemt, when his scouts informed him that the enemy was close at hand, and was advancing to attack him. The young prince immediately ordered his troops to halt, and proceeded to arrange them in order of battle. The two armies were nearly equal in numbers, and the men who composed them equally courageous. The battle which ensued was bloody and obstinate. The sultan did all that a warrior skilled in the conduct of armies could do; and the prince Khalaf, on his side, more than could be expected from so young a general. At one time the Nagäi-Tartars had the advantage, at another they were obliged to yield to the Carismians; at last both parties, alternately victors and vanquished, were obliged by the approach of night to sound a retreat. The combat was to have recommenced in the morning; but, in the mean time, the leader of the Circassians went secretly to the sultan, and offered to abandon the cause of the Nagäis, provided the sultan would pledge himself, on oath, never to exact tribute from the Circassians upon any pretence whatever. The sultan having consented, the treaty was confirmed, and the Circassian leader, instead of occupying his place next day in the army of the khan, detached his troops from the Nagäis, and took the road back to his own country. This treachery was a terrible blow to prince Khalaf, who, seeing himself now much weakened in numbers, would have withdrawn for the time from the conflict; but there was no possibility of retreat. The Carismians advanced furiously to the charge, and taking advantage of the ground which allowed them to extend their lines, they surrounded the Nagäis on all sides. The latter, notwithstanding that they had been deserted by their best auxiliaries, did not lose their courage. Animated by the example of their prince, they closed their ranks, and for a long time firmly sustained the terrible onset of their enemies. At last, however, resistance became hopeless, and Khalaf, seeing all hope at an end, thought of nothing but his escape, which he fortunately succeeded in effecting. The moment the sultan was apprised of his flight, he sent six thousand horsemen to endeavour to capture him, but he eluded their pursuit, by taking roads that were unknown to them; and after a few days' hard riding through unfrequented and unknown tracts, arrived at his father's court, where he spread sorrow and consternation, by the disastrous tidings he brought. If this piece of news deeply afflicted Timurtasch, the intelligence he next received drove him to despair. An officer who had escaped from the battle, brought word that the sultan of Carisma had put to the sword nearly all the Nagäis, and that he was advancing with all possible speed, fully resolved to put the whole family of the khan to death, and to absorb the nation into his own kingdom. The khan then repented of having refused to pay the tribute, but he fully recognized the force of the Arab proverb, "When the city is in ruins, what is the use of repentance?" As time pressed, and it was necessary to fly, for fear of falling into the hands of the sultan, the khan, the princess Elmaze (diamond), his wife, and Khalaf, made a selection of all their most precious treasures, and departed from the capital, Astracan, accompanied by several officers of the palace, who refused to abandon them in their need, as well as by such of the troops as had cut their way through the ranks of their enemies with the young prince. They directed their march towards Bulgaria; their object being to beg an asylum at the court of some sovereign prince. They had now been several days on their journey, and had gained the Caucasus, when a swarm of some four thousand suddenly poured down upon them from that range. Although Khalaf had scarcely a hundred men with him, he steadily received the furious attack of the robbers, of whom numbers fell; his troops, however, were by degrees overpowered and slaughtered, and he himself remained in the power of the bandits, some of whom fell upon the spoil, whilst others butchered the followers of the khan. They only spared the lives of that prince, his wife, and his son, leaving them, however, almost naked in the midst of the mountains. It is impossible to describe the grief of Timurtasch when he saw himself reduced to this extremity. He envied the fate of those whom he had seen slain before his eyes, and giving way to despair, sought to destroy himself. The princess burst into tears, and made the air resound with her lamentations and groans. Khalaf alone had strength to support the weight of their misfortunes; he was possessed of an indomitable courage. The bitter lamentations which the khan and his wife uttered were his greatest trouble. "Oh, my father! Oh, my mother!" said he, "do not succumb to your misfortunes. Remember that it is God who wills that you should be thus wretched. Let us submit ourselves without a murmur to his absolute decrees. Are we the first princes whom the rod of justice has struck? How many rulers before us have been driven from their kingdoms, and after wandering about for years in foreign lands, sharing the lot of the most abject of mortals, have been in the end restored to their thrones! If God has the power to pluck off crowns, has He not also the power to restore them? Let us hope that He will commiserate our misery, and that He will in time change into prosperity the deplorable condition in which we now are." [Illustration: Prince Khalaf holding back his father, p. 63.] With such arguments he endeavoured to console his father and mother, and to some extent succeeded; they experienced a secret consolation, and at last allowed themselves to take comfort. "So be it, my son," said the khan, "let us bow to Providence; and since these evils which encompass us are written in the book of fate, let us endure them without repining." At these words the royal party made up their minds to be firm under their misfortunes, and proceeded to continue their journey on foot, the robbers having taken their horses. They wandered on for a long time, living upon the fruits they found in the valleys; but at length they entered upon a desert, where the earth yielded nothing upon which they could subsist, and now their courage deserted them. The khan, far advanced in years, began to feel his strength fail him; and the princess, worn out with the fatigue of the journey she had made, could scarcely hold out any longer. In this predicament, Khalaf, although wofully tired himself, had no resource but to carry them by turns on his shoulders. At last all three, overwhelmed by hunger, thirst, and weariness, arrived at a spot abounding with frightful precipices. It was a hill, very steep, and intersected with deep chasms, forming what appeared to be dangerous passes. Through these, however, seemed to be the only way by which to enter upon the vast plain which stretched out beyond; for both sides of the hill were so encumbered with brambles and thorns, that it was impossible to force a way through. When the princess perceived the chasms, she uttered a piercing cry, and the khan at length lost his patience. He rushed furiously forward. "I can bear this no longer," said he to his son; "I yield to my hard destiny; I succumb to so much suffering. I will throw myself headlong into one of these deep gulfs, which, doubtless, Heaven has reserved for my tomb. I will escape the tyranny of wickedness. I prefer death to such a miserable existence." The khan, yielding himself up to the frenzy which had taken possession of him, was on the point of throwing himself down one of the precipices, when prince Khalaf seized him in his arms and held him back. "Oh, my father!" said he, "what are you doing? Why give way to this transport of fury? Is it thus that you show the submission you owe to the decrees of Heaven? Calm yourself. Instead of displaying a rebellious impatience of its will, let us endeavour to deserve by our constancy its compassion and favour. I confess that we are in a deplorable state, and that we can scarcely take a step without danger amidst these abysses; but there may be another road by which we can enter the plain: let me go and see if I can find one. In the mean time, my lord, calm the violence of your transports, and remain near the princess; I will return immediately." "Go, then, my son," replied the khan, "we will await you here; do not fear that I will any longer give way to despair." The young prince traversed the whole hill without being able to discover any path. He was oppressed with the deepest grief; he threw himself on the ground, sighed, and implored the help of Heaven. He rose up, and again searched for some track that would conduct them to the plain. At length he found one. He followed it, returning thanks to Heaven for the discovery, and advanced to the foot of a tree which stood at the entrance of the plain, and which covered with its shade a fountain of pure transparent water. He also perceived other trees laden with fruit of an extraordinary size. Delighted with this discovery, he ran to inform his father and mother, who received the news with the greater joy, since they now began to hope that Heaven had begun to compassionate their misery. Khalaf conducted them to the fountain, where all three bathed their faces and their hands and quenched the burning thirst which consumed them. They then ate of the fruits which the young prince gathered for them, and which, in their state of exhaustion from want of food, appeared to them delicious. "My lord," said Khalaf to his father, "you see the injustice of your complaints. You imagined that Heaven had forsaken us; I implored its succour, and it has succoured us. It is not deaf to the voice of the unfortunate who put their whole trust in its mercy." They remained near the fountain two or three days to repose and recruit their wasted strength. After that they collected as much of the fruit as they could carry, and advanced into the plain, hoping to find their way to some inhabited place. They were not deceived in their expectations; they soon perceived before them a town which appeared large and splendidly built. They made their way to it, and having arrived at the gates, resolved to remain there and wait for night, not wishing to enter the town during the day, covered with dust and perspiration, and with what little clothing the robbers had left them, travel-worn and rent with brambles. They selected a tree which cast a delicious shade, and stretched themselves upon the grass at its foot. They had reposed there some time, when an old man came out of the town and directed his steps to the same place, to enjoy the cool shade. He sat down near them after making them a profound obeisance. They in turn saluted him, and then inquired what was the name of the town. "It is called Jaic," replied the old man. "The king, Ileuge-Khan, makes it his residence. It is the capital of the country, and derives its name from the river which flows through it. You must be strangers since you ask me that question." "Yes," replied the khan, "we come from a country very far from here. We were born in the kingdom of Chrisnia, and we dwell upon the banks of the Caspian Sea; we are merchants. We were travelling with a number of other merchants in Captchak; a large band of robbers attacked our caravan and pillaged us; they spared our lives, but have left us in the situation in which you see us. We have traversed mount Caucasus, and found our way here without knowing where we were directing our steps." The old man, who had a compassionate heart for the distress of his neighbour, expressed his sympathy for their misfortunes, and, to assure them of his sincerity, offered them shelter in his house. He made the offer with such cordiality, that, even if they had not needed it, they would have felt some difficulty in refusing. As soon as night set in he conducted them to his home. It was a small house, very plainly furnished; but every thing was neat, and wore the appearance rather of simplicity than of poverty. As the old man entered he gave some orders in an undertone to one of his slaves, who returned in a short time followed by two boys, one of whom carried a large bundle of men's and women's clothes ready made, the other was laden with all sorts of veils, turbans, and girdles. Prince Khalaf and his father each took a caftan of cloth and a brocaded dress with a turban of Indian muslin, and the princess a complete suit. After this their host gave the boys the price of the clothes, sent them away, and ordered supper. Two slaves brought the table and placed upon it a tray covered with dishes of china, sandal, and aloe-wood, and several cups of coral perfumed with ambergris. They then served up a repast, delicate, yet without profusion. The old man endeavoured to raise the spirits of his guests; but perceiving that his endeavours were vain, "I see clearly," said he, "that the remembrance of your misfortunes is ever present to your minds. You must learn how to console yourselves for the loss of the goods of which the robbers have plundered you. Travellers and merchants often experience similar mishaps. I was myself once robbed on the road from Moussul to Bagdad. I nearly lost my life on that occasion, and I was reduced to the miserable condition in which I found you. If you please I will relate my history; the recital of my misfortunes may encourage you to support yours." Saying this, the good old man ordered his slaves to retire, and spoke as follows. THE STORY OF PRINCE AL ABBAS. I am the son of the king of Moussul, the great Ben-Ortoc. As soon as I had reached my twentieth year, my father permitted me to make a journey to Bagdad; and, to support the rank of a king's son in that great city, he ordered a splendid suite to attend me. He opened his treasures and took out for me four camel-loads of gold; he appointed officers of his own household to wait upon me, and a hundred soldiers of his guard to form my escort. I took my departure from Moussul with this numerous retinue in order to travel to Bagdad. Nothing happened the first few days; but one night, whilst we were quietly reposing in a meadow where we had encamped, we were suddenly attacked so furiously by an overwhelming body of Bedouin Arabs, that the greater part of my people were massacred almost before I was aware of the danger. After the first confusion I put myself at the head of such of the guards and officers of my father's household as had escaped the first onslaught, and charged the Bedouins. Such was the vigour of our attack, that more than three hundred fell under our blows. As the day dawned, the robbers, who were still sufficiently numerous to surround us on all sides, seeing our insignificant numbers, and ashamed and irritated by the obstinate resistance of such a handful of men, redoubled their efforts. It was in vain that we fought with the fury of desperation; they overpowered us; and at length we were forced to yield to numbers. They seized our arms and stripped off our clothes, and then, instead of reserving us for slaves, or letting us depart, as people already sufficiently wretched, in the state to which we were reduced, they resolved to revenge the deaths of their comrades; and were cowards and barbarians enough to slaughter the whole of their defenceless prisoners. All my people perished; and the same fate was on the point of being inflicted on me, when making myself known to the robbers, "Stay, rash men," I exclaimed, "respect the blood of kings. I am prince Al Abbas, only son of Ben-Ortoc, king of Moussul, and heir to his throne." "I am glad to learn who thou art," replied the chief of the Bedouins. "We have hated thy father mortally these many years; he has hanged several of our comrades who fell into his hands; thou shalt be treated after the same manner." Thereupon they bound me; and the villains, after first sharing among them all my baggage, carried me along with them to the foot of a mountain between two forests, where a great number of small grey tents were pitched. Here was their well-concealed camping ground. They placed me under the chief's tent, which was both loftier and larger than the rest. Here I was kept a whole day, after which they led me forth and bound me to a tree, where, awaiting the lingering death that was to put an end to my existence, I had to endure the mortification of finding myself surrounded by the whole gang, insulted with bitter taunts, and every feeling miserably outraged. I had been tied to the tree for some considerable time, and the last moments of my life appeared fast approaching, when a scout came galloping in to inform the chief of the Bedouins that a splendid chance offered itself seven leagues from thence; that a large caravan was to encamp the next evening in a certain spot, which he named. The chief instantly ordered his companions to prepare for the expedition; this was accomplished in a very short time. They all mounted their horses, and left me in their camp, not doubting but at their return they would find me a corpse. But Heaven, which renders useless all the resolves of men which do not agree with its eternal decrees, would not suffer me to perish so young. The wife of the robber chief had, it seems, taken pity on me; she managed to creep stealthily, during the night, to the tree where I was bound, and said to me, "Young man, I am touched by thy misfortune, and I would willingly release thee from the dangers that surround thee; but, if I were to unbind thee, dost thou think that thou hast strength enough left to escape." I replied, "The same good God who has inspired thee with these charitable feelings will give me strength to walk." The woman loosed my cords, gave me an old caftan of her husband's, and showing me the road, "Take that direction," said she, "and thou wilt speedily arrive at an inhabited place." I thanked my kind benefactress, and walked all that night without deviating from the road she had pointed out. The next day, I perceived a man on foot, who was driving before him a horse, laden with two large packages. I joined him, and, after telling him that I was an unfortunate stranger, who did not know the country, and had missed my way, I inquired of him where he was going. "I am going," replied he, "to sell my merchandise at Bagdad, and I hope to arrive there in two days." I accompanied this man, and only left him when I entered that great city; he went about his business, and I retired to a mosque, where I remained two days and two nights. I had no desire to go forth into the streets; I was afraid of meeting persons from Moussul, who might recognize me. So great was my shame at finding myself in this plight, that far from thinking of making my condition known, I wished to conceal it, even from myself. Hunger at length overcame my shame, or rather I was obliged to yield to that necessity which brooks no refusal. I resolved to beg my bread, until some better prospect presented itself. I stood before the lower window of a large house, and solicited alms with a loud voice. An old female slave appeared almost immediately, with a loaf in her hand, which she held out to me. As I advanced to take it, the wind by chance raised the curtain of the window, and allowed me to catch a glimpse of the interior of the chamber; there I saw a young lady of surpassing beauty; her loveliness burst upon my vision like a flash of lightning. I was completely dazzled. I received the bread without thinking what I was about, and stood motionless before the old slave, instead of thanking her, as I ought to have done. I was so surprised, so confused, and so violently enamoured, that doubtless she took me for a madman; she disappeared, leaving me in the street, gazing intently, though fruitlessly, at the window, for the wind did not again raise the curtain. I passed the whole day awaiting a second favourable breeze. Not until I perceived night coming on, could I make up my mind to think of retiring; but before quitting the house, I asked an old man, who was passing, if he knew to whom it belonged. "It is," replied he, "the house of Mouaffac, the son of Adbane; he is a man of rank, and, moreover, a rich man and a man of honour. It is not long since he was the governor of the city, but he quarrelled with the cadi, who found means of ruining him in the estimation of the caliph, and thereby caused him to lose his appointment." With my thoughts fully taken up by this adventure, I slowly wandered out of the city, and entering the great cemetery determined to pass the night there. I ate my bread without appetite, although my long fast ought to have given me a good one, and then lay down near a tomb, with my head resting on a pile of bricks. It was with difficulty that I composed myself to sleep: the daughter of Mouaffac had made too deep an impression upon me; the remembrance of her loveliness excited my imagination too vividly, and the little food I had eaten was not enough to cause the usual tendency to a refreshing sleep. At length, however, I dozed off, in spite of the ideas that filled my imagination; but my sleep was not destined to be of long duration; a loud noise within the tomb soon awoke me. Alarmed at the disturbance, the cause of which I did not stay to ascertain, I started up, with the intention of flying from the cemetery, when two men, who were standing at the entrance of the tomb, perceiving me, stopped me, and demanded who I was, and what I was doing there. "I am," I replied, "an unfortunate stranger, whom misfortune has reduced to live upon the bounty of the charitable, and I came here to pass the night, as I have no place to go to in the town." "Since thou art a beggar," said one of them, "thank Heaven that thou hast met with us; we will furnish thee with an excellent supper." So saying, they dragged me into the tomb, where four of their comrades were eating large radishes and dates, and washing them down with copious draughts of raki. They made me sit near them, at a long stone that served as a table, and I was obliged to eat and drink, for politeness' sake. I suspected them to be what they really were, that is to say, thieves, and they soon confirmed my suspicions by their discourse. They began to speak of a considerable theft they had just committed, and thought that it would afford me infinite pleasure to become one of their gang; they made me the offer, which threw me into great perplexity. You may imagine that I had no desire to associate myself with such fellows, but I was fearful of irritating them by a refusal. I was embarrassed, and at a loss for a reply, when a sudden event freed me from my trouble. The lieutenant of the cadi, followed by twenty or thirty _asas_ (archers) well armed, entered the tomb, seized the robbers and me, and took us all off to prison, where we passed the remainder of the night. The following day, the cadi came and interrogated the prisoners. The thieves confessed their crime, as they saw there was no use in denying it; for myself, I related to the judge how I had met with them, and, as they corroborated my statement, I was put on one side. The cadi wished to speak to me in private, before he set me free. Accordingly, he presently came over to me, and asked what took me into the cemetery where I was caught, and how I spent my time in Bagdad. In fact, he asked me a thousand questions, all of which I answered with great candour, only concealing the royalty of my birth. I recounted to him all that had happened to me, and I even told him of my having stopped before the window of Mouaffac's house to beg, and of my having seen, by chance, a young lady who had charmed me. At the name of Mouaffac I noticed the eyes of the cadi sparkle, with a curious expression. He remained a few moments immersed in thought; then, assuming a joyous countenance, he said, "Young man, it depends only on thyself to possess the lady thou sawest yesterday. It was doubtless Mouaffac's daughter; for I have been informed that he has a daughter of exquisite beauty. Though thou wert the most abject of beings, I would find means for thee to possess the object of thine ardent wishes. Thou hast but to leave it to me, and I will make thy fortune." I thanked him, without being able to penetrate his designs, and then by his orders followed the aga of his black eunuchs, who released me from the prison, and took me to the bath. Whilst I was there, the judge sent two of his _tchaous_ (guards) to Mouaffac's house, with a message that the cadi wished to speak to him upon business of the greatest importance. Mouaffac accompanied the guards back. As soon as the cadi saw him coming he went forward to meet him, saluted him, and kissed him several times. Mouaffac was in amazement at this reception. "Ho! ho!" said he to himself, "how is this, that the cadi, my greatest enemy, is become so civil to me to-day? There is something at the bottom of all this." "Friend Mouaffac," said the judge, "Heaven will not suffer us to be enemies any longer. It has furnished us with an opportunity of extinguishing that hatred which has separated our families for so many years. The prince of Bozrah arrived here last night. He left Bozrah without taking leave of his father the king. He has heard of your daughter; and from the description of her beauty which he has received, he has become so enamoured of her, that he is resolved to ask her in marriage. He wishes me to arrange the marriage,--a task which is the more agreeable to me, as it will be the means of reconciling us." "I am astounded," replied Mouaffac, "that the prince of Bozrah should have condescended to confer upon me the honour of marrying my daughter; and that you of all men should be the chosen means of communicating this happiness to me, as you have always shown yourself so anxious to injure me." "Let us not speak of the past, friend Mouaffac," returned the cadi; "pray let all recollection of what we have done to annoy each other be obliterated in our happiness at the splendid connexion which is to unite your daughter with the prince of Bozrah; let us pass the remainder of our days in good fellowship." Mouaffac was naturally as good and confiding as the cadi was crafty and bad: he allowed himself to be deceived by the false expressions of friendship that his enemy displayed. He stifled his hatred in a moment, and received without distrust the perfidious caresses of the cadi. They were in the act of embracing each other, and pledging an inviolable friendship, when I entered the room, conducted by the aga. This officer, on my coming out of the bath, had clothed me with a beautiful dress, which he had ready, and a turban of Indian muslin, with a gold fringe that hung down to my ear, and altogether my appearance was such as fully to bear out the statements of the cadi. "Great prince," said the cadi as soon as he perceived me, "blessed be your feet, and your arrival in Bagdad, since it has pleased you to take up your abode with me. What tongue can express to you the gratitude I feel for so great an honour? Here is Mouaffac, whom I have informed of the object of your visit to this city. He consents to give you in marriage his daughter, who is as beautiful as a star." Mouaffac then made me a profound obeisance, saying, "O son of the mighty, I am overwhelmed with the honour you are willing to confer upon my daughter; she would esteem herself sufficiently honoured in being made a slave to one of the princesses of your harem." Judge of the astonishment that this discourse caused me. I knew not what to answer. I saluted Mouaffac without speaking; but the cadi, perceiving my embarrassment, and fearing lest I should make some reply which would destroy his plot, instantly took up the conversation. "I venture to submit," said he, "that the sooner the marriage contract is made in presence of the proper witnesses the better." So saying, he ordered his aga to go for the witnesses, and in the mean time drew up the contract himself. When the aga arrived with the witnesses, the contract was read before them. I signed it, then Mouaffac, and then the cadi, who attached his signature the last. The judge then dismissed the witnesses, and turning to Mouaffac said, "You know that with great people these affairs are not managed as with persons of humble rank. Besides, in this case you readily perceive that silence and despatch are necessary. Conduct this prince, then, to your house, for he is now your son-in-law; give speedy orders for the consummation of the marriage, and take care that every thing is arranged as becomes his exalted rank." I left the cadi's house with Mouaffac. We found two mules richly caparisoned awaiting us at the door; the judge insisted upon our mounting them with great ceremony. Mouaffac conducted me to his house; and when we were in the court-yard dismounted first, and with a respectful air presented himself to hold my stirrup,--a ceremony to which of course I was obliged to submit. He then took me by the hand and conducted me to his daughter, with whom he left me alone, after informing her of what had passed at the cadi's. Zemroude, persuaded that her father had espoused her to a prince of Bozrah, received me as a husband who would one day place her upon the throne,--and I, the happiest of men, passed the day at her feet, striving by tender and conciliating manners to inspire her with love for me. I soon perceived that my pains were not bestowed in vain, and that my youth and ardent affection produced a favourable impression upon her. With what rapture did this discovery fill me! I redoubled my efforts, and I had the gratification of remarking that each moment I made advances in her esteem. In the mean time Mouaffac had prepared a splendid repast to celebrate his daughter's nuptials, at which several members of his family were present. The bride appeared there more brilliant and more beautiful than the houris. The sentiments with which I had already inspired her, seemed to add new lustre to her beauty. The next morning I heard a knock at my chamber-door; I got up and opened it. There stood the black aga of the cadi carrying a large bundle of clothes. I thought that perhaps the cadi had sent robes of honour to my wife and myself, but I was deceived. "Sir adventurer," said the negro in a bantering tone, "the cadi sends his salutations, and begs you to return the dress he lent you yesterday to play the part of the prince of Bozrah in. I have brought you back your own old garment, and the rest of the tatters, which are more suited to your station than the other." I was astounded at the application; my eyes were opened, and I saw through the whole malicious scheme of the cadi. However, making a virtue of necessity, I gravely restored to the aga the robe and turban of his master, and retook my own old caftan, which was a mass of rags. Zemroude had heard part of the conversation; and seeing me covered with rags, "O heavens!" she exclaimed, "what is the meaning of this change, and what has that man been saying to you?" "My princess," I replied, "the cadi is a great rascal, but he is the dupe of his own malice. He thinks he has given you a beggar for a husband, a man born in the lowest grade, but you are, indeed, the wife of a prince, and my rank is in no way inferior to that of the husband, whose hand you fancy you have received. I am to the full the equal of the prince of Bozrah, for I am the only son of the king of Moussul, and am heir to the kingdom of the great Ben-Ortoc; my name is Al Abbas." I then related my history to her, without suppressing the least circumstance. When I had finished the recital, "My prince," said she, "even were you not the son of a great king, I should love you none the less; and, believe me, that if I am overjoyed to learn the circumstance of your exalted birth, it is but out of regard to my father, who is more dazzled by the honours of the world than I; my only ambition is to possess a husband who will love me alone, and not grieve me by giving me rivals." I did not fail to protest that I would love her, and her alone, all my life, with which assurance she appeared delighted. She then summoned one of her women, and ordered her to proceed with all speed and secrecy to a merchant's, and buy a dress, ready made, of the richest materials that could be procured. The slave who was charged with this commission acquitted herself in the most satisfactory manner. She returned speedily, bringing a magnificent dress and robe, and a turban of Indian muslin as handsome, even handsomer, than what I had worn the previous day, so that I found myself even more gorgeously dressed than on the occasion of my first interview with my father-in-law. "Well, my lord," said Zemroude, "do you think the cadi has much reason to be satisfied with his work? He thought to heap reproaches on my family, and he has bestowed upon it an imperishable honour. He thinks that we are now overwhelmed with shame. What will be his grief when he knows that he has conferred such a benefit upon his enemy? But before he is made aware of your birth, we must invent some means of punishing him for his wicked designs against us. I will take that task upon me. There is in this city a dyer, who has a daughter most frightfully ugly. I will not tell you further," she continued, checking herself. "I will not deprive you of the pleasure of the surprise. I shall only let you know that I have conceived a project which will drive the cadi nearly mad, and make him the laughingstock of the court and the city." She then dressed herself in plain clothes, and covering her face with a thick veil, asked my permission to go out, which I granted her. She went alone, repaired to the cadi's house, and placed herself in one corner of the hall, where the judge gave audience. He no sooner cast his eyes upon her, than he was struck with her majestic figure; he sent an officer to ask who she was, and what she desired. She answered that she was the daughter of an artisan in the town, and that she wished to speak to the cadi on important private business. The officer having borne her answer to the cadi, the judge made a sign to Zemroude to approach, and enter his private apartment, which was on one side of the court; she complied, making a low obeisance. When she entered the cadi's private apartment, she took her seat upon the sofa, and raised her veil. The cadi had followed her, and as he seated himself near her, was astonished at her beauty. "Well! my dear child," said he, patronizingly, "of what service can I be to you?" "My lord," she replied, "you, who have the power to make the laws obeyed, who dispense justice to rich and poor alike, listen, I pray you, to my complaint, and pity the unfortunate situation in which I am placed." "Explain yourself," replied the judge, already moved, "and I swear by my head and my eyes that I will do every thing that is possible, ay, and impossible, to serve you." "Know then, my lord," replied Zemroude, "that, notwithstanding the attractions which Heaven has bestowed upon me, I live in solitude and obscurity in a house, forbidden not only to men, but even to women, so that even the conversation of my own sex is denied me. Not that advantageous proposals were at one time wanting for my hand; I should have been married long ago, if my father had not had the cruelty to refuse me to all who have asked me in marriage. To one he says, I am as withered as a dead tree; to another, that I am bloated with unnatural fat; to this one, that I am lame, and have lost the use of my hands; to that one, that I have lost my senses, that I have a cancer on my back, that I am dropsical; in fact, he wishes to make me out a creature not worthy the society of human beings, and has so decried me, that he has at length succeeded in making me the reproach of the human race; nobody inquires about me now, and I am condemned to perpetual celibacy." When she ceased speaking she pretended to weep, and played her part so well that the judge allowed himself to be deceived. "What can be the reason, my angel," said he, "that your father prevents your marrying? What can his motive be?" "I know not, my lord," replied Zemroude; "I cannot conceive what his intentions can be; but I confess my patience is exhausted. I can no longer live in this state. I have found means to leave home, and I have escaped to throw myself into your arms, and to implore your help; take pity on me, I implore you, and interpose your authority, that justice may be done to me, otherwise I will not answer for my life." "No, no," replied he, "you shall not die, neither shall you waste your youth in tears and sighs. It only remains with yourself to quit the darkness in which your perfections are buried, and to become this very day the wife of the cadi of Bagdad. Yes, lovely creature, more fair than the houris, I am ready to marry you, if you will consent." "My lord," replied the lady, "even were not your station one of the most dignified and honourable in the city, I could have no objection to give you my hand, for you appear to be one of the most amiable of men; but I fear that you will not be able to obtain the consent of my father, notwithstanding the honour of the alliance." "Don't trouble yourself upon that point," replied the judge, "I will pledge myself as to the issue; only tell me in what street your father lives, what his name is, and what his profession." "His name is Ousta Omar," replied Zemroude; "he is a dyer, he lives upon the eastern quay of the Tigris, and in front of his door is a palm-tree laden with dates." "That is enough," said the cadi; "you can return home now; you shall soon hear from me, depend upon my word." The lady, after bestowing a gracious smile upon him, covered her face again with her veil, left the private chamber, and returned to me. "We shall be revenged," she said, laughing gaily; "our enemy, who thought to make us the sport of the people, will himself become so." The judge had scarcely lost sight of Zemroude, ere he sent an officer to Ousta Omar, who was at home. "You are to come to the cadi," said the man, "he desires to speak with you, and he commanded me to bring you before him." The dyer grew pale at these words, he thought that some one had lodged a complaint against him before the judge, and that it was on that account the officer had come to fetch him. He rose, however, and followed in silence, but in great uneasiness. As soon as he appeared before the cadi, the judge ordered him into the same chamber where he had had the interview with Zemroude, and made him sit upon the same sofa. The artisan was so astonished at the honour paid him, that he changed colour several times. "Master Omar," said the cadi, "I am glad to see you; I have heard you spoken very well of this long time past. I am informed that you are a man of good character, that you regularly say your prayers five times a day, and that you never fail to attend the great mosque on Friday; besides, I know that you never eat pork, and never drink wine nor date-spirits; in fact, that whilst you are at work one of your apprentices reads the Koran." "That is true," replied the dyer; "I know above four thousand _hadits_ (sayings of Mahomet), and I am making preparations for a pilgrimage to Mecca." "I assure you," replied the cadi, "that all this gives me the greatest pleasure, for I passionately love all good mussulmen. I am also informed that you keep concealed at home a daughter of an age to marry; is that true?" "Great judge," answered Ousta Omar, "whose palace serves as a haven and refuge for the unfortunate who are tossed about by the storms of the world, they have told you true. I have a daughter who is old enough, in all conscience, to be married, for she is more than thirty years old; but the poor creature is not fit to be presented to a man, much less to so great a man as the cadi of Bagdad; she is ugly, or rather frightful, lame, covered with blotches, an idiot; in a word, she is a monster whom I cannot take too much pains to hide from the world." "Indeed," said the cadi, "that is what I expected, master Omar. I was certain that you would thus praise your daughter; but know, my friend, that this blotchy, idiotic, lame, frightful person, in short, this monster, with all her defects, is loved to distraction by a man who desires her for his wife, and that man is myself." At this speech the dyer seemed to doubt whether he were awake; he pinched himself, rubbed his eyes, and then looking the cadi full in the face, said, "If my lord, the cadi, wishes to be merry, he is master; he may make a jest of my child as much as he pleases." "No, no," replied the cadi, "I am not joking, I am in love with your daughter, and I ask her in marriage." The artisan at these words burst into a fit of laughter. "By the prophet," cried he, "somebody wants to give you something to take care of. I give you fair warning, my lord, that my daughter has lost the use of her hands, is lame, dropsical." "I know all about that," replied the judge, "I recognize her by her portrait. I have a peculiar liking for that sort of girls, they are my taste." "I tell you," insisted the dyer, "she is not a fit match for you. Her name is Cayfacattaddhari (the monster of the age), and I must confess that her name is well chosen." "Come, come!" replied the cadi, in an impatient and imperious tone, "this is enough, I am sick of all these objections. Master Omar, I ask you to give me this Cayfacattaddhari just as she is, so not another word." The dyer, seeing him determined to espouse his daughter, and more than ever persuaded that some person had made him fall in love with her upon false representations for fun, said to himself, "I must ask him a heavy _scherbeha_ (dowry): the amount may disgust him, and he will think no more of her." "My lord," said he, "I am prepared to obey you; but I will not part with Cayfacattaddhari unless you give me a dowry of a thousand golden sequins beforehand." "That is rather a large sum," said the cadi, "still I will pay it you." He immediately ordered a large bagful of sequins to be brought, a thousand were counted out, which the dyer took after weighing them, and the judge then ordered the marriage contract to be drawn out. When, moreover, it was ready for signature, the artisan protested that he would not sign it except in the presence of a hundred lawyers at least. "You are very distrustful," said the cadi; "but never mind, I will satisfy your wishes, for I don't intend to let your daughter slip through my fingers." He thereupon sent immediately for all the neighbouring doctors, alfayins, mollahs, persons connected with the mosques and courts of law, of whom far more crowded in than the dyer required. When all the witnesses had arrived at the cadi's, Ousta Omar spoke thus, "My lord cadi, I give you my daughter in marriage, since you absolutely require me to do so; but I declare before all these gentlemen that it is on condition, that if you are not satisfied with her when you see her, and you wish afterwards to repudiate her, you will give her a thousand gold sequins, such as I have received from you." "Well! so be it," replied the cadi, "I promise it before all this assembly. Art thou content?" The dyer replied in the affirmative, and departed, saying that he would send the bride. He had scarcely left the house before the enamoured judge gave orders to have an apartment furnished in the most splendid manner to receive his new bride. Velvet carpets were laid down, new draperies hung up, and sofas of silver brocade placed round the walls, whilst several braziers perfumed the chamber with delicious scents. All was at length in readiness, and the cadi impatiently awaited the arrival of Cayfacattaddhari. The fair bride, however, not making her appearance so speedily as his eagerness expected, he called his faithful aga, and said, "The lovely object of my affections ought to be here by this time, I think. What can detain her so long at her father's? How slow the moments appear which retard my happiness!" At length his impatience could brook no longer delay, and he was on the point of sending the aga to Ousta Omar's, when a porter arrived carrying a deal case covered with green taffeta. "What hast thou got there, my friend," inquired the judge. "My lord," replied the porter, placing the box on the ground, "it is your bride; you have only to take off the covering and you will see what she is like." The cadi removed the cloth and saw a girl three feet and a half high: she had a lank visage covered with blotches, eyes sunk deep in their sockets and as red as fire, not the least vestige of a nose, but above her mouth two horrid wide nostrils like those of a crocodile. He could not look at this object without horror; he hastily replaced the cover, and, turning to the porter, cried, "What am I to do with this miserable creature?" "My lord," replied the porter, "it is the daughter of master Omar, the dyer, who told me you had married her from choice." "Merciful heavens!" exclaimed the cadi, "is it possible to marry such a monster as that?" At that moment the dyer, who had foreseen the surprise of the judge, arrived. "Wretch," said the cadi, "what dost thou take me for? Thou certainly hast an amazing amount of impudence to dare to play me such a trick as this. Dost thou dare thus to treat me who have it in my power to revenge myself on my enemies; me who, when I please, can put the like of thee in fetters? Dread my wrath, wretch! Instead of the hideous monster which thou hast sent me, give me instantly thy other daughter, whose beauty is unparalleled, or thou shalt experience what an angry cadi can do!" "My lord," replied Omar, "spare your threats, I beg, and don't be angry with me. I swear by the Creator of the light that I have no other daughter but this. I told you a thousand times that she would not suit you; you would not believe--whose fault is it?" The cadi at these words felt his soul sink within him, and said to the dyer, "Master Omar, a damsel of the most exquisite loveliness came here this morning and told me that you were her father, and that you represented her to the world as a perfect monster, indeed so much so, that no one would ask her in marriage." "My lord," returned the dyer, "that girl must have been playing you a trick; you must have some enemy." The cadi bent his head on his bosom, and remained some time in deep thought. "It is a misfortune that was destined to befal me; let us say no more about it; have your daughter taken back home; keep the thousand sequins you have got, but don't ask for any more, if you wish us to be friends." Although the judge had sworn before witnesses that he would give a thousand sequins more if Omar's daughter did not please him, the artisan did not dare to endeavour to compel him to keep his word, for he knew him to be a most vindictive man, and one who would easily find an opportunity of revenging himself upon any one he disliked, and was, of course, afraid to offend him. He thought it better to be content with what he had received. "My lord," said he, "I will obey you, and relieve you of my daughter, but you must, if you please, divorce her first." "Oh! true," said the cadi; "I have not the least objection; be assured that shall soon be done." Accordingly, he instantly sent for his naib, and the divorce was made out in due form, after which master Omar took leave of the judge, and ordered the porter to bear the wretched Cayfacattaddhari back home. This adventure was speedily noised all over the city. Every body laughed at it, and warmly applauded the trick which had been played upon the cadi, who could not escape the ridicule in which the whole city indulged at his expense. We carried our revenge still further. By Mouaffac's advice, I presented myself before the prince of the faithful, to whom I told my name and related my story. I did not suppress, as you may imagine, the circumstances which put the malice of the cadi in so strong a light. The caliph, after listening to me with the greatest attention, received me very graciously. "Prince," said he, "why did you not come at once to me? Doubtless you were ashamed of your condition, but you might, without a blush, have presented yourself before my face, even in your wretched state. Does it depend upon men themselves to be happy or unhappy? Is it not Allah that spins the thread of our destiny? Ought you to have feared an ungracious reception? No! You know that I love and esteem king Ben-Ortoc, your father; my court was a safe asylum for you." The caliph embraced me, and conferred on me a _gulute_ (robe of honour) and a beautiful diamond which he wore on his finger. He regaled me with excellent sherbet, and when I returned to my father-in-law's house, I found six large bales of Persian brocade, gold and silver, two pieces of damask, and a beautiful Persian horse richly caparisoned. In addition, he reinstated Mouaffac in the government of Bagdad; and as to the cadi, by way of punishment for his malicious attempt to deceive Zemroude and her father, he deposed him, and condemned him to perpetual imprisonment, and, to crown his misery, ordered him as a companion in his confinement the daughter of Ousta Omar. A few days after my marriage, I sent a courier to Moussul, to inform my father of all that had happened to me since my departure from his court, and to assure him that I would return shortly, with the lady whom I had married. I waited most impatiently for the return of the courier; but, alas! he brought me back news which deeply afflicted me. He informed me that Ben-Ortoc having heard that four thousand Bedouin Arabs had attacked me, and that my escort had been cut to pieces, persuaded that I no longer lived, took my supposed death so much to heart that he died; that prince Amadeddin Zingui, my cousin-german, occupied the throne; that he reigned with equity; and that, nevertheless, although he was generally beloved, the people no sooner learned that I was still alive, than they gave themselves up to the greatest joy. Prince Amadeddin himself, in a letter which the courier placed in my hands, assured me of his fidelity, and expressed his impatience for my return, in order that he might restore the crown to me, and become the first subject in my dominions. This news decided me to hasten my return to Moussul. I took my leave of the prince of the faithful, who ordered a detachment of three thousand cavalry of his own guard to escort me to my kingdom, and, after embracing Mouaffac and his wife, I departed from Bagdad with my beloved Zemroude, who would almost have died of grief at the separation from her parents, if her love for me had not somewhat moderated the violence of her sorrow. About halfway between Bagdad and Moussul, the vanguard of my escort discovered a body of troops marching towards us. Concluding at once that it was a body of Bedouin Arabs, I immediately drew up my men, and was fully prepared for the attack, when my scouts brought me word, that those whom we had taken for robbers and enemies were, in fact, troops from Moussul, who had set out to meet me, with Amadeddin at their head. This prince, on his part, having learned who we were, left his little army to meet me, accompanied by the principal nobles of Moussul. When he reached the spot where I was awaiting him, he addressed me in the same tone in which his letter had been couched, submissively and respectfully, whilst all the nobles who accompanied him assured me of their zeal and fidelity. I thought it my duty to show my entire confidence in them, by dismissing the soldiers of the caliph's guard. I had no reason to repent of this step; far from being capable of forming any treacherous design, prince Amadeddin did all in his power to give me proofs of his attachment. When we came to Moussul, our safe and auspicious arrival was celebrated by gifts to the mosques, abundant alms to the poor, fêtes, and an illumination of the palace gardens with lamps of a thousand different colours. The people in general testified the delight they felt at my return by acclamations, and for a space of three days gave themselves up entirely to great rejoicings. The booths of the itinerant merchants, and the bazaars, were hung within and without with draperies, and at night they were lit up by lamps, which formed the letters of a verse of the Koran, so that every shop having its particular verse, this holy book was to be read entire in the city; and it appeared as though the angel Gabriel had brought it a second time in letters of light to our great prophet. In addition to this pious illumination, before each shop were placed large dishes, plates of pillau, of all sorts of colours, in the form of pyramids, and huge bowls of sherbet and pomegranate juice, for the passers-by to eat and drink at pleasure. In all the cross streets were to be seen dancers, displaying their graceful evolutions to the sounds of drums, lutes, and tambourines. The different trades formed a procession, consisting of cars decorated with tinsel and many-coloured flags, and with the tools used in their trades; and after traversing the principal streets, defiled to the music of pipes, cymbals, and trumpets, before my balcony, where Zemroude was sitting by my side, and after saluting us, shouted at the top of their voices, "Blessing and health to thee, Apostle of God, God give the king victory." It was not enough for me to share these honours with the daughter of Mouaffac, my study was to find out every thing that would afford her any pleasure. I caused her apartments to be adorned with every thing most rare and pleasing to the sight. Her suite was composed of twenty-five young Circassian ladies, slaves in my father's harem; some sang and played the lute exquisitely, others excelled on the harp, and the rest danced with the greatest grace and lightness. I also gave her a black aga, with twelve eunuchs, who all possessed some talent which might contribute to her amusement. I reigned over faithful and devoted subjects; every day I loved Zemroude more and more, and she as ardently reciprocated my attachment. My days passed thus in perfect happiness, till one day a young dervise appeared at my court. He introduced himself to the principal nobles, and gained their friendship by his pleasing and agreeable manners, as well as by his wit and his happy and brilliant repartees. He accompanied them to the chase, he entered into all their gaieties, and was a constant guest at their parties of pleasure. Every day some of my courtiers spoke to me of him as a man of charming manners, so that at last they excited in me a desire to see and converse with the agreeable stranger. Far from finding his portrait overdrawn, he appeared to me even more accomplished than they had represented him. His conversation charmed me, and I was disabused of an error into which many persons of quality fall, namely, that men of wit and high sentiment are only to be met with at court. I experienced so much pleasure in the company of the dervise, and he seemed so well suited to manage affairs of the greatest importance, that I wished to appoint him my minister, but he thanked me, and told me he had made a vow never to accept any employment, that he preferred a free and independent life, that he despised honours and riches, and was content with what God, who cares for the lowest animals, should provide for him; in a word, he was content with his condition. I admired a man so much raised above worldly considerations, and conceived the greatest esteem for him; I received him with pleasure each time he presented himself at court; if he was among the crowd of courtiers my eyes sought him out, and to him I most frequently addressed myself; I insensibly became so attached to him, that I made him my exclusive favourite. One day during a hunt, I had strayed from the main body of my followers, and the dervise was alone with me. He began by relating his travels, for although young he had travelled extensively. He spoke of several curious things he had seen in India, and, amongst others, of an old Bramin whom he knew. "This great man," said he, "knew an infinity of secrets, each more extraordinary than the former. Nature had no mystery but what he could fathom. He died in my arms," said the dervise, "but as he loved me, before he expired he said, 'My son, I wish to teach you a secret by which you may remember me, but it is on condition that you reveal it to no one.' I promised to keep it inviolate, and on the faith of my promise he taught me the secret." "Indeed!" said I, "what is the nature of the secret? Is it the secret of making gold?" "No, sire," replied he, "it is a greater and much more precious secret than that. It is the power of reanimating a dead body. Not that I can restore the same soul to the body it has left, Heaven alone can perform that miracle; but I can cause my soul to enter into a body deprived of life, and I will prove it to your highness whenever you shall please." "Most willingly!" said I, "now, if you please." At that moment there passed by us most opportunely a doe; I let fly an arrow, which struck her, and she fell dead. "Now let me see," said I, "if you can reanimate this creature." "Sire," replied the dervise, "your curiosity shall soon be gratified; watch well what I am about to do." He had scarcely uttered these words, when I beheld with amazement his body fall suddenly without animation, and at the same moment I saw the doe rise with great nimbleness. I will leave you to judge of my surprise. Although there was no room left to doubt what I beheld, I could hardly believe the evidence of my senses. The creature, however, came to me, fondled me, and after making several bounds, fell dead again, and immediately the body of the dervise, which lay stretched at my feet, became reanimated. I was delighted at so wonderful a secret, and entreated the dervise to impart it to me. [Illustration: The Dervise and the Prince, p. 91.] "Sire," said he, "I deeply regret that I cannot comply with your desire; for I promised the dying Bramin not to disclose it to any one, and I am a slave to my word." The more the dervise excused himself from satisfying my wishes, the more did I feel my curiosity excited. "In the name of Allah," said I, "do not refuse to comply with my entreaties. I promise thee never to divulge the secret, and I swear by Him who created us both never to employ it to a bad purpose." The dervise considered a moment, then turning to me said, "I cannot resist the wishes of a king whom I love more than my life; I will yield to your desire. It is true," added he, "that I only gave a simple promise to the Bramin. I did not bind myself by an inviolable oath. I will impart my secret to your highness. It consists only in remembering two words; it is sufficient to repeat them mentally to be able to reanimate a dead body." He then taught me the two magic words. I no sooner knew them, than I burned to test their power. I pronounced them, with the intention to make my soul pass into the body of the doe, and in a moment I found myself metamorphosed into the animal. But the delight I experienced at the success of the trial was soon converted into consternation; for no sooner had my spirit entered into the body of the doe, than the dervise caused his to pass into mine, and then suddenly drawing my bow, the traitor was on the point of shooting me with one of my own arrows, when, perceiving his intention, I took to flight, and by my speed just escaped the fatal shaft. Nevertheless, he let fly the arrow at me with so true an aim, that it just grazed my shoulder. I now beheld myself reduced to live with the beasts of the forests and mountains. Happier for me would it have been if I had resembled them more perfectly, and if in losing my human form, I had at the same time lost my power of reason. I should not then have been the prey to a thousand miserable reflections. Whilst I was deploring my misery in the forests, the dervise was occupying the throne of Moussul; and fearing that, as I possessed the secret as well as himself, I might find means to introduce myself into the palace, and take my revenge upon him, on the very day he usurped my place he ordered all the deer in the kingdom to be destroyed, wishing, as he said, to exterminate the whole species, which he mortally hated. Nay, so eager was he for my destruction, that the moment he returned from the hunting expedition, he again set out at the head of a large body of followers, intent upon the indiscriminate slaughter of all the deer they might meet. The people of Moussul, animated by the hope of gain, spread themselves all over the country with their bows and arrows; they scoured the forests, over-ran the mountains, and shot every stag and deer they met with. Happily, by this time I had nothing to fear from them; for, having seen a dead nightingale lying at the foot of a tree, I reanimated it, and under my new shape flew towards the palace of my enemy, and concealed myself among the thick foliage of a tree in the garden. This tree was not far from the apartments of the queen. There, thinking upon my misfortune, I poured forth in tender strains the melancholy that consumed me. It was one morning, as the sun rose, and already several birds, delighted to see its returning beams, expressed their joy by their minstrelsy. For my part, taken up with my griefs, I paid no attention to the brightness of the newborn day; but with my eyes sadly turned towards Zemroude's apartment, I poured forth so plaintive a song, that I attracted the attention of the princess, who came to the window. I continued my mournful notes in her presence, and I tried all the means in my power to render them more and more touching, as though I could make her comprehend the subject of my grief. But, alas! although she took pleasure in listening to me, I had the mortification to see, that instead of being moved by my piteous accents, she only laughed with one of her slaves, who had come to the window to listen to me. I did not leave the garden that day, nor for several following, and I took care to sing every morning at the same spot. Zemroude did not fail to come to the window; and at length, by the blessing of Providence, took a fancy to have me. One morning she said to her female attendants, "I wish that nightingale to be caught; let birdcatchers be sent for. I love that bird; I doat upon it; let them try every means to catch it, and bring it to me." The queen's orders were obeyed; expert birdcatchers were found, who laid traps for me, and, as I had no desire to escape, because I saw that their only object in depriving me of my liberty was to make me a slave to my princess, I allowed myself to be taken. The moment I was brought to her she took me in her hand, with every symptom of delight. "My darling," said she, caressing me, "my charming bul-bul, I will be thy rose; I already feel the greatest tenderness for thee." At these words she kissed me. I raised my beak softly to her lips. "Ah! the little rogue," cried she laughing, "he appears to know what I say." At last, after fondling me, she placed me in a gold filigree cage, which an eunuch had been sent into the city to buy for me. Every day as soon as she woke I began my song; and whenever she came to my cage to caress me or feed me, far from appearing wild, I spread out my wings, and stretched my beak towards her, to express my joy. She was surprised to see me so tame in so short a time. Sometimes she would take me out of the cage, and allow me to fly about her chamber. I always went to her to receive her caresses, and to lavish mine upon her; and if any of her slaves wished to take hold of me, I pecked at them with all my might. By these little insinuating ways I endeared myself so much to Zemroude, that she often said if by any mishap I were to die, she should be inconsolable, so strong was her attachment to me. Zemroude also had a little dog in her chamber, of which she was very fond. One day, when the dog and I were alone, it died. Its death suggested to me the idea of making a third experiment of the secret. "I will pass into the body of the dog," thought I, "for I wish to see what effect the death of her nightingale will produce upon the princess." I cannot tell what suggested the fancy, for I did not foresee what this new metamorphosis would lead to; but the thought appeared to me a suggestion of Heaven, and I followed it at all risks. When Zemroude returned to the room, her first care was to come to my cage. As soon as she perceived that the nightingale was dead, she uttered a shriek that brought all her slaves about her. "What ails you, madam?" said they in terrified accents. "Has any misfortune happened to you?" "I am in despair," replied the princess, weeping bitterly; "my nightingale is dead. My dear bird, my little husband, why art thou taken from, me so soon? I shall no more hear your sweet notes! I shall never see you again! What have I done to deserve such punishment from Heaven?" All the efforts of her women to console her were in vain. The dervise had just returned from his murderous expedition, and one of them ran to acquaint him with the state in which they had found the queen. He quickly came and told her that the death of a bird ought not to cause her so much grief; that the loss was not irreparable; that if she was so fond of nightingales, and wanted another, it was easy to get one. But all his reasoning was to no purpose, he could make no impression upon her. "Cease your endeavours," she exclaimed, "to combat my grief, you will never overcome it. I know it is a great weakness to mourn so for a bird, I am as fully persuaded of it as you can be, still I cannot bear up against the force of the blow that has overwhelmed me. I loved the little creature; he appeared sensible of the caresses I bestowed on him, and he returned them in a way that delighted me. If my women approached him, he exhibited ferocity, or rather disdain; whereas he always came eagerly on to my hand when I held it out to him. It appeared as though he felt affection for me, he looked at me in so tender and languishing a manner, that it almost seemed as though he was mortified that he had not the power of speech to express his feelings towards me. I could read it in his eyes. Ah! I shall never think of him without despair." As she finished speaking her tears gushed out afresh, and she seemed as if nothing could ever console her. I drew a favourable omen from the violence of her grief. I had laid myself down in a corner of the room, where I heard all that was said and observed all that passed without their noticing me. I had a presentiment that the dervise, in order to console the queen, would avail himself of the secret, and I was not disappointed. Finding the queen inaccessible to reason, and being deeply enamoured of her, he was moved by her tears, and instead of persevering in fruitless arguments, he ordered the queen's slaves to quit the room and leave him alone with her. "Madam," said he, thinking that no one overheard him, "since the death of your nightingale causes you so much sorrow, he must be brought to life. Do not grieve, you shall see him alive again; I pledge myself to restore him to you; to-morrow morning, when you wake, you shall hear him sing again, and you shall have the satisfaction of caressing him." "I understand you, my lord," said Zemroude; "you look upon me as crazed, and think that you must humour my sorrow; you would persuade me that I shall see my nightingale alive to-morrow; to-morrow you will postpone your miracle till the following day, and so on from one day to another; by this means you reckon on making me gradually forget my bird; or, perhaps," pursued she, "you intend to get another put in his place to deceive me." "No, my queen," replied the dervise, "no; it is that very bird which you see stretched out in his cage without life; this very nightingale, the enviable object of such poignant grief; it is that very bird himself that shall sing. I will give him new life, and you can again lavish your caresses upon him. He will better appreciate that delight, and you shall behold him still more anxious to please you, for it will be I myself who will be the object of your endearments; every morning I will myself be his fresh life in order to divert you. I can perform this miracle," continued he; "it is a secret I possess; if you have any doubts upon it, or if you are impatient to behold your favourite reanimated, I will cause him to revive now immediately." As the princess did not reply, he imagined from her silence that she was not fully persuaded he could accomplish what he professed; he seated himself on the sofa, and by virtue of the two cabalistic words left his body, or rather mine, and entered into that of the nightingale. The bird began to sing in its cage to the great amazement of Zemroude. But his song was not destined to continue long; for no sooner did he begin to warble than I quitted the body of the dog and hastened to retake my own. At the same time running to the cage, I dragged the bird out and wrung his neck. "What have you done, my lord?" cried the princess. "Why have you treated my nightingale thus? If you did not wish him to live, why did you restore him to life?" "I thank Heaven!" cried I, without paying any regard to what she said, so much were my thoughts taken up with the feeling of vengeance which possessed me at the treacherous conduct of the dervise, "I am satisfied. I have at length avenged myself on the villain whose execrable treason deserved a still greater punishment." If Zemroude was surprised to see her nightingale restored to life, she was not the less so to hear me utter these words with such fierce emotion. "My lord," said she, "whence this violent transport which agitates you, and what do those words mean which you have just spoken?" I related to her all that had happened to me, and she could not doubt that I was truly Al Abbas, because she had heard that the body of the dervise had been found in the forest, and she was also of course well acquainted with the order which he had given for destroying all the deer. But my poor princess could not recover the shock her sensitive love had sustained. A few days after she fell ill, and died in my arms, literally frightened to death by the imminence of the danger from which she had just been so happily rescued. After I had bewailed her, and erected a splendid tomb to her memory, I summoned the prince Amadeddin. "My cousin," said I, "I have no children, I resign the crown of Moussul in your favour. I give the kingdom up into your hands. I renounce the regal dignity, and wish to pass the rest of my days in repose and privacy." Amadeddin, who really loved me, spared no arguments to deter me from taking the step I proposed, but I assured him that nothing could shake my resolution. "Prince," said I, "my determination is fixed, I resign my rank to you. Fill the throne of Al Abbas, and may you be more happy than he. Reign over a people who know your merit, and have already experienced the blessings of your rule. Disgusted with pomp, I shall retire to distant climes, and live in privacy; there freed from the cares of state, I shall mourn over the memory of Zemroude, and recall the happy days we passed together." I left Amadeddin upon the throne of Moussul, and, accompanied only by a few slaves, and carrying an ample supply of riches and jewels, took the road to Bagdad, where I arrived safely. I immediately repaired to Mouaffac's house. His wife and he were not a little surprised to see me, and they were deeply affected when I informed them of the death of their daughter, whom they had tenderly loved. The recital unlocked the fountains of my own grief, and I mingled my tears with theirs. I did not stay long in Bagdad, I joined a caravan of pilgrims going to Mecca, and after paying my devotions, found, by chance, another company of pilgrims from Tartary, whom I accompanied to their native country. We arrived in this city; I found the place agreeable, and took up my abode here, where I have resided for nearly forty years. I am thought to be a stranger who was formerly concerned in trade, and whose time is now passed in study and contemplation. I lead a retired life, and rarely see strangers. Zemroude is ever present to my thoughts, and my only consolation consists in dwelling fondly upon her memory and her virtues. CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF PRINCE KHALAF AND THE PRINCESS OF CHINA. Al Abbas, having finished the recital of his adventures, thus addressed his guests: "Such is my history. You perceive by my misfortunes and your own, that human life is but as a reed, ever liable to be bent to the earth by the bleak blasts of misfortune. I will, however, confess to you that I have led a happy and quiet life ever since I have been in Jaic; and that I by no means repent having abdicated the throne of Moussul; for in the obscurity in which I now live, I have discovered peaceful and tranquil joys which I never experienced before." Timurtasch, Elmaze, and Khalaf bestowed a thousand flattering encomiums upon the son of Ben-Ortoc; the khan admired the resolution which had caused him to deprive himself of his kingdom, in order to live in privacy in a country of strangers, where the station which he had filled in the world was unknown. Elmaze praised the fidelity he displayed towards Zemroude, and the grief he experienced at her death. And Khalaf remarked, "My lord, it were to be wished that all men could display the same constancy in adversity which you have done, under your misfortunes." They continued their conversation till it was time to retire. Al Abbas then summoned his slaves, who brought wax-lights in candlesticks made of aloe-wood, and conducted the khan, the princess, and her son to a suite of apartments, where the same simplicity reigned that characterized the rest of the house. Elmaze and Timurtasch retired to sleep in a chamber appropriated to themselves, and Khalaf to another. The following morning their host entered the chamber of his guests as soon as they were up, and said, "You are not the only unfortunate persons in the world; I have just been informed that an ambassador from the sultan of Carisma arrived in the city last evening; that his master has sent him to Ileuge-Khan, to beg of him not only to refuse an asylum to the khan of the Nagäis, his enemy, but if the khan should endeavour to pass through his dominions, to arrest him. Indeed, it is reported," pursued Al Abbas, "that the unfortunate khan, for fear of falling into the hands of the sultan of Carisma, has left his capital and fled with his family." At this news, Timurtasch and Khalaf changed colour, and the princess fainted. The swoon of Elmaze, as well as the evident trouble of the father and son, instantly caused Al Abbas to suspect that his guests were not merchants. "I see," said he, as soon as the princess had recovered her senses, "that you take a deep interest in the misfortunes of the khan of the Nagäis; indeed, if I may be permitted to tell you what I think, I believe you are yourselves the objects of the sultan of Carisma's hatred." "Yes, my lord," replied Timurtasch, "we are, indeed, the victims for whose immolation he is thirsty. I am the khan of the Nagäis, you behold my wife and my son; we should, indeed, be ungrateful, if we did not discover our position to you, after your generous reception, and the confidence you have reposed in us. I am encouraged even to hope, that by your counsels you will aid us to escape from the danger which threatens us." "Your situation is most critical," replied the aged king of Moussul; "I know Ileuge-Khan well, and, as he fears the sultan of Carisma, I cannot doubt that, to please him, he will search for you every where. You will not be safe, either in my house or in any other in this city; the only resource left you, is to leave the country of Jaic as speedily as possible, cross the river Irtisch, and gain, with the utmost diligence, the frontiers of the tribe of the Berlas." This advice pleased Timurtasch, his wife, and son. Al Abbas had three horses instantly got ready, together with provisions for the journey, and giving them a purse filled with gold; "Start immediately," said he, "you have no time to lose, by to-morrow, no doubt, Ileuge-Khan will cause search to be made for you every where." They returned their heartfelt thanks to the aged monarch, and then quitted Jaic, crossed the Irtisch, and joining company with a camel-driver, who was travelling that way, arrived after several days' journey in the territories of the tribe of Berlas. They took up their quarters with the first horde they met, sold their horses, and lived quietly enough as long as their money lasted; but, as soon as it came to an end, the misery of the khan recommenced. "Why am I still in the world?" he began to exclaim. "Would it not have been better to have awaited my blood-thirsty foe in my own kingdom, and have died defending my capital, than to drag on a life which is only one continued scene of misery? It is in vain that we endure our misfortunes with patience; for, in spite of our submission to its decrees, Heaven will never restore us to happiness, but leaves us still the sport of misery." "My lord," replied Khalaf, "do not despair of our miseries coming to an end. Heaven, which decrees these events, is preparing for us, I doubt not, some relief which we cannot foresee. Let us proceed at once," added he, "to the principal horde of this tribe. I have a presentiment, that our fortunes will now assume a more favourable aspect." They all three proceeded accordingly to the horde with whom the khan of Berlas resided. They entered a large tent which served as a refuge for poor strangers. Here they laid themselves down, worn out with their journey, and at a loss at last to know how to obtain even the necessaries of life. Khalaf, however, quietly slipt out of the tent, leaving his father and mother there, and went through the horde, asking charity of the passers-by. By the evening he had collected a small sum of money, with which he bought some provisions, and carried them to his parents. When they learned that their son had actually solicited charity, they could not refrain from tears. Khalaf himself was moved by their grief, but cheerfully remarked, nevertheless, "I confess that nothing we have yet endured has appeared to me more mortifying than to be reduced to solicit alms; still, as at present I cannot procure you subsistence by any other means, is it not my duty to do it, in spite of the mortification it costs me? But," he added, as though struck with a sudden thought, "there is still another resource--sell me for a slave, and the money you will receive will last you a long time." "What do you say, my son?" cried Timurtasch, when he heard these words. "Can you propose to us that we should live at the expense of your liberty? Ah! rather let us endure for ever our present misery. But if it should come to this, that one of us must be sold, let it be myself; I do not refuse to bear the yoke of servitude for you both." "My lord," said Khalaf, "another thought strikes me; to-morrow morning I will take my station among the porters; some one may chance to employ me, and we may thus earn a living by my labour." They agreed to this, and the following day the prince stationed himself among the porters of the horde, and waited till some one should employ him; but unfortunately no one wanted him, so that half the day passed and he had not had a single job. This grieved him deeply. "If I am not more successful than this," thought he, "how am I to support my father and mother?" He grew tired of waiting among the porters on the chance of some person wanting his services. He went out of the encampment and strolled into the country, in order to turn over in his mind undisturbedly the best means of earning a livelihood. He sat down under a tree, where, after praying Heaven to have pity on his perplexity, he fell asleep. When he woke he saw near him a falcon of singular beauty: its head was adorned with a tuft of gaudy feathers, and from its neck hung a chain of gold filigree-work set with diamonds, topazes, and rubies. Khalaf, who understood falconry, held out his fist, and the bird alighted on it. The prince of the Nagäis was delighted at the circumstance. "Let us see," said he, "what this will lead to. This bird, from all appearance, belongs to the sovereign of the tribe." Nor was he wrong. It was the favourite falcon of Almguer, khan of Berlas, who had lost it the previous day. His principal huntsmen were engaged at that moment in searching every where for it with the greatest diligence and uneasiness, for their master had threatened them with the severest punishments if they returned without his bird, which he loved passionately. Prince Khalaf returned to the encampment with the falcon. As soon as the people of the horde saw it, they began to cry out, "Ha! here is the khan's falcon recovered. Blessings on the youth who will make our prince rejoice by restoring him his bird." And so it turned out, for when Khalaf arrived at the royal tent, and appeared with the falcon, the khan, transported with joy, ran to his bird and kissed it a thousand times. Then addressing the prince of the Nagäis, he asked him where he found it. Khalaf related how he had recovered the falcon. The khan then said to him, "Thou appearest to be a stranger amongst us; where wast thou born, and what is thy profession?" "My lord," replied Khalaf, prostrating himself at the khan's feet, "I am the son of a merchant of Bulgaria, who was possessed of great wealth. I was travelling with my father and mother in the country of Jaic, when we were attacked by robbers, who stripped us of every thing but our lives, and we have found our way to this encampment actually reduced to beg our bread." "Young man," replied the khan, "I am glad that it is thou who hast found my falcon; for I swore to grant to whomsoever should bring me my bird, whatever two things he might ask; so thou hast but to speak. Tell me what thou desirest me to grant thee, and doubt not that thou shalt obtain it." "Since I have permission to ask two things," returned Khalaf, "I request in the first place that my father and mother, who are in the strangers' tent, may have a tent to themselves in the quarter where your highness resides, and that they may be supported during the rest of their days at your highness's expense, and waited on by officers of your highness's household; secondly, I desire to have one of the best horses in your highness's stables and a purse full of gold, to enable me to make a journey which I have in contemplation." "Thy wishes shall be gratified," said Almguer; "thou shalt bring thy father and mother to me, and from this day forth I will begin to entertain them as thou desirest; and to-morrow, dressed in rich attire, and mounted on the best horse in my stables, thou shalt be at liberty to go wherever it shall please thee. Thy modesty, the filial love which is imprinted upon thy features, thy youth, thy noble air, please me; be my guest, come and join my festivities, and thou shalt listen to an Arabian story-teller, whose knowledge and imaginative powers instruct and amuse my tribes." The khan and the son of Timurtasch presently seated themselves at a table loaded with viands, confectionary, fruit, and flowers; gazelle venison, red-legged partridges, pheasants, and black cock were displayed as trophies of the skill of the hunter king. The Arab stationed near the khan awaited his orders. "Moustapha," said the khan at length, turning to the Arab, "I have been extolling thy knowledge and wit to my guest; surpass thyself, and let him see that I have not exaggerated. He shall give thee a subject; treat it in such a manner as to deserve his praise." "I am curious," said the prince, "to hear of China; I ask thee to instruct me concerning the government of that important kingdom, and to give me an insight into the manners and customs of its people." The Arab reflected a moment, and then, prefacing his recital with a few general remarks, proceeded to depict in glowing colours this celestial empire, whose civilization dates back to the remotest ages of the world. He described its extent as equal to one-half of the habitable globe; its population as so numerous that it might be counted by hundreds of millions; he spoke of cities, each of which alone brought a revenue to their crown, which surpassed that of entire kingdoms; of those gigantic works, the canals, whose extent equalled the course of the largest rivers, which traversed the vast empire. And he foretold that a time would come when Tartar warriors should scale that very wall which the terror of their arms had caused to be built, and should again reconquer the whole of that wealthy tract. He then began his story as follows. THE STORY OF LIN-IN. A CHINESE TALE. At Wou-si, a town dependent upon the city of Tchang-tcheou, in the province of Kiang-nan, there resided a family in the middle sphere of life. Three brothers composed the family; the name of the eldest was Lin-in (the jasper); the second Lin-pao (the precious); the youngest Lin-tchin (the pearl); this last was not yet old enough to marry; the other two had taken wives to themselves. The wife of the first was named Wang; the wife of the second Yang; and both possessed every grace which can constitute the charm of woman. Lin-pao's engrossing passions were gambling and wine; he evinced no inclination to good. His wife was of a similar disposition, and depraved in her conduct; she was very different from her sister-in-law Wang, who was a pattern of modesty and propriety. So although these two women lived together on neighbourly terms, there was but little real sympathy between them. Wang had a son named Hi-eul, that is to say, "the son of rejoicing." He was a child of six years old. One day having stopped in the street with some other children, to look at a great procession in the neighbourhood, he was lost in the crowd, and in the evening did not return to the house. This loss caused the deepest sorrow to his parents. They had handbills posted up, and there was not a street in which they did not make inquiries, but all to no purpose; they could gain no intelligence respecting their darling child. Lin-in was inconsolable; and giving way to the grief that overwhelmed him, he sought to fly from his home, where every thing brought back the remembrance of his dear Hi-eul. He borrowed a sum of money from one of his friends to enable him to carry on a small trade in the neighbourhood of the city and the adjacent villages, hoping that in one of these short excursions he might be able to recover the treasure he had lost. As his whole thoughts were taken up with his child, he took little pleasure in the circumstance that his trade flourished. He nevertheless continued to pursue it during five years, without making long journeys from home, whither he returned every year to spend the autumn. At length, being utterly unsuccessful in discovering the least trace of his son after so many years, and concluding that he was lost to him for ever, and finding moreover that his wife Wang bore him no more children, as he had now amassed a good sum of money, he determined to divert his thoughts from painful recollections by trading in another province. He joined the company of a rich merchant travelling the road he had fixed upon; and the merchant, having observed his aptitude for business, made him a very advantageous offer. The desire of becoming wealthy now took possession of him, and diverted his thoughts from their accustomed channel. Within a very short time after their arrival in the province of Chan-si every thing had succeeded to their utmost wishes. They found a quick sale for their merchandise, and the profits arising from it was considerable. The payments, however, were delayed for two years in consequence of a drought and famine which afflicted the country, as well as by a tedious illness by which Lin-in was attacked. They were detained altogether three years in the province; after which, having recovered his money and his health, he took his departure to return to his own country. He halted one day during his journey near a place named Tchin-lieou to recruit his strength, and strolling round the neighbourhood accidentally came upon a girdle of blue cloth, in the form of a long, narrow bag, such as is worn round the body, under the dress, and in which money is usually kept; as he took it up, he found the weight considerable. He retired to a quiet spot, opened the girdle, and found it contained about two hundred täels. At sight of this treasure he fell into the following train of reflection: "My good fortune has placed this sum in my hands; I might keep it and employ it for my own use without fearing any unpleasant consequences. Still the person who has dropt it, the moment he discovers his loss, will be in great distress, and will return in haste to look for it. Do they not say that our forefathers dared scarcely touch money found in this way; and if they picked it up, only did so with a view of restoring it to its owner? This appears to me a very praiseworthy custom, and I will imitate it, the more so as I am growing old and have no heir. Of what benefit would money got by such means be to me?" Whilst thus reasoning, he had wandered to some distance from the spot where he had found the money; he now, however, retraced his steps to the place, and waited there the whole day, to be ready in case the owner should return. Nobody came, however, and the next day he continued his journey. After five days' travelling, he arrived in the evening at Nan-sou-tcheou, and took up his quarters at an inn where several other merchants were staying. The conversation having turned upon the advantages of commerce, one of the company said, "Five days ago, on leaving Tchin-lieou, I lost two hundred täels, which I had in an inside girdle. I had taken it off, and placed it near me whilst I lay down to sleep, when a mandarin and his cortége chanced to pass by. I hastened to get out of the way for fear of insult, and in my hurry forgot to take up my money. It was only at night, as I was undressing to go to bed, that I discovered my loss. I felt sure that as the place where I lost my money was by the side of a well-frequented road, it would be useless to delay my journey for several days in order to look for what I should never find." Every one condoled with him on his loss. Lin-in asked him his name and place of abode. "Your servant," replied the merchant, "is named Tchin, and lives at Yang-tcheou, where he has a shop and a large warehouse. May I be so bold in return to inquire to whom I have the honour of speaking?" Lin-in told him his name, and said that he was an inhabitant of the town of Wou-si. "My shortest road there," added he, "lies through Yang-tcheou; and, if agreeable to you, I shall have much pleasure in your company so far." Tchin acknowledged this politeness in a becoming manner. "Most willingly," said he; "we will continue our journey together, and I esteem myself very fortunate in meeting with such an agreeable companion." The journey was not long, and they soon arrived at Yang-tcheou. After the usual civilities, Tchin invited his fellow-traveller to his house, and on their arrival there immediately ordered refreshments to be brought. Whilst they were discussing their meal, Lin-in managed to turn the conversation on the subject of the lost money. "What," he asked, "was the colour of the girdle which contained your money, and of what material was it made?" "It was of blue cloth," replied Tchin; "and what would enable me to identify it is, that at one end the letter Tchin, which is my name, is embroidered upon it in white silk." This description left no doubt as to the owner. Lin-in, therefore, rejoined in a cheerful tone, "If I have asked you all these questions, it was merely because passing through Tchin-lieou, I found a belt such as you describe." At the same time producing it, he added, "Look if this is yours." "The very same," said Tchin. Whereupon Lin-in politely restored it to its owner. Tchin, overwhelmed with gratitude, pressed him to accept the half of the sum which it contained; but his entreaties were in vain, Lin-in would receive nothing. "What obligations am I not under to you?" resumed Tchin; "where else should I find such honesty and generosity?" He then ordered a splendid repast to be brought, over which they pledged each other with great demonstrations of friendship. Tchin thought to himself, "Where should I find a man of such probity as Lin-in? Men of his character are very scarce in these days. What! shall I receive from him such an act of kindness, and not be able to repay him? I have a daughter twelve years old; I must form an alliance with such an honest man. But has he got a son? On this point I am entirely ignorant." "My dear friend," said he, "how old is your son?" This question brought tears into the eyes of Lin-in. "Alas!" replied he, "I had but one, who was most dear to me. It is now eight years ago since my child, having run out of the house to see a procession pass by, disappeared; and from that day to this I have never been able to learn any thing of him; and, to crown my misfortune, my wife has not borne me any more children." Upon hearing this, Tchin appeared to think for a moment, then, continuing the conversation, said, "My brother and benefactor, of what age was the child when you lost him?" "About six years old," replied Lin-in. "What was his name?" "We called him Hi-eul," returned Lin-in. "He had escaped all the dangers of the small-pox which had left no traces upon his countenance; his complexion was clear and florid." This description gave the greatest pleasure to Tchin, and he could not prevent his satisfaction from displaying itself in his looks and manner. He immediately called one of his servants, to whom he whispered a few words. The servant, having made a gesture of obedience, retired into the interior of the house. Lin-in, struck by the questions, and the joy which lit up the countenance of his host, was forming all sorts of conjectures, when he saw a youth of about fourteen years of age enter the room. He was dressed in a long gown, with a plain though neat jacket. His graceful form, his air and carriage, his face with its regular features, and his quick and piercing eyes, and finely arched black eyebrows, at once engaged the admiration and riveted the attention of Lin-in. As soon as the youth saw the stranger seated at table, he turned towards him, made a low bow, and uttered some respectful words; then approaching Tchin, and standing modestly before him, he said in a sweet and pleasing tone, "My father, you have called Hi-eul; what are you pleased to command?" "I will tell you presently," replied Tchin, "in the mean time stand beside me." The name of Hi-eul, by which the youth called himself, excited fresh suspicions in the breast of Lin-in. A secret sympathy suddenly forced itself upon him; and by one of those wonderful instincts of nature which are so unerring, recalled to his recollection the image of his lost child, his form, his face, his air, and manners; he beheld them all in the youth before him. There was but one circumstance that made him doubt the truth of his conjectures, and that was his addressing Tchin by the name of 'father.' He felt it would be rude to ask Tchin if the youth really were his son; perhaps he might truly be so, for it was not impossible that there might be two children bearing the same name, and in many respects resembling each other. Lin-in, absorbed in these reflections, paid little attention to the good cheer placed before him. Tchin could read on the countenance of Lin-in the perplexing thoughts that filled his mind. An indescribable charm seemed to attract him irresistibly towards the youth. He kept his eyes constantly fixed upon him, he could not turn them away. Hi-eul, on his part, despite his bashfulness and the timidity natural to his age, could not help gazing intently upon Lin-in; it seemed as though nature was revealing his father to him. At length Lin-in, no longer master of his feelings, suddenly broke the silence, and asked Tchin if the youth really was his son. "I am not," replied Tchin, "really his father, although I look upon him as my own child. Eight years ago, a man passing through this city, leading this child in his hand, addressed me by chance, and begged me to assist him in his great need. 'My wife,' said he, 'is dead, and has left me with this child. The impoverished state of my affairs has compelled me to leave my native place, and go to Hoaingan to my relations, from whom I hope to receive a sum of money, to enable me to set up in business again. I have not wherewith to continue my journey to that town, will you be so charitable as to lend me three täels? I will faithfully restore them on my return, and I will leave as a pledge all that I hold most dear in the world, my only son; I shall no sooner reach Hoaingan, than I will return and redeem my dear child.' "I felt gratified by this mark of confidence, and I gave him the sum he asked. As he left me he burst into tears, and gave every evidence of the grief he felt in leaving his child. I was, however, surprised that the child did not exhibit the least emotion at the separation; as, however, time wore on, and the pretended father did not return, suspicions began to rise, which I was anxious to set at rest. I called the child, and by various questions I put to him, learned that he was born in Wou-si, that having one day run out to see a procession pass by, he had strayed too far from home, and lost his way, and that he had been trepanned and carried off by a stranger. He also told me the name of his father and mother; indeed, it is that of your own family. I thus discovered that the fellow, so far from being the father of the poor child, was the identical rascal who had carried him off. Not only was my compassion excited, but the boy's pleasing manners had entirely won my heart; I treated him from that time as one of my own children, and I sent him to college with my own son, to study with him. I have often entertained the plan of going to Wou-si, to inquire after his family. But business of some kind always prevented me from undertaking the journey, of which, however, I had never fully relinquished the idea; when, happily, a few moments ago, you chanced in the course of conversation to mention your son, my suspicions were aroused, and upon the extraordinary coincidence of your tale, and the circumstances of which I was acquainted, I sent for your child to see if you would recognize him." At these words Hi-eul wept for joy, and his tears caused those of Lin-in to flow copiously. "A peculiar mark," said he, "will prove his identity; a little above the left knee you will find a small black spot, which has been there from his birth." Hi-eul pulled up the leg of his trouser, and showed the spot in question. Lin-in, on seeing it, threw himself upon the neck of the child, covered him with kisses, and folded him in his arms. "My child," cried he, "my dear child, what happiness for your father to find you after so many years' absence." It is not difficult to conceive to what transports of joy the father and son delivered themselves up, during these first moments of pleasure. After a thousand tender embraces, Lin-in at length tore himself from the arms of his son, and made a profound obeisance to Tchin. "What gratitude do I not owe you," said he, "for having received my son into your house, and brought up this dear portion of myself with so much care. But for you we should never have been united." "My kind benefactor," replied Tchin, rising, "it was the act of disinterested generosity you practised towards me, in restoring the two hundred täels, which moved the compassion of Heaven. It is Heaven that conducted you to my house, where you have found him whom you sought in vain for so many years. Now that I know that good youth is your son, I regret that I have not treated him with greater consideration." "Kneel, my son," said Lin-in, "and thank your generous benefactor." Tchin was about to return these salutations, when Lin-in himself prevented him, overcome with this excess of respect. This interchange of civilities being over they resumed their seats, and Tchin placed little Hi-eul on a seat by his father's side. Then Tchin resuming the conversation, said, "My brother (for henceforth that is the title by which I shall address you), I have a daughter twelve years of age, and it is my intention to give her in marriage to your son, in order that the union may cement our friendship more closely." This proposition was made in so sincere and ardent a manner, that Lin-in did not feel it right to make the usual excuses that good breeding prescribed. He therefore waived all ceremony, and gave his consent at once. As it was growing late, they separated for the night. Hi-eul slept in the same chamber with his father. You may imagine all the tender and affectionate conversation that passed between them during the night. The next day Lin-in prepared to take leave of his host, but he could not resist his pressing invitation to remain. Tchin had prepared a second day's festivity, in which he spared no expense to regale the future father-in-law of his daughter, and his new son-in-law, and thereby to console himself for their departure. They drank and sang, and gave themselves up fully to the hilarity of the occasion. When the repast was ended, Tchin drew out a packet of twenty täels, and looking towards Lin-in, said, "During the time my dear son-in-law has been with me, it is possible he may have suffered many things against my wish, and unknown to me; here is a little present I wish to make him, until I can give him more substantial proofs of my affection. I will not hear of a refusal." "What!" replied Lin-in, "at a time when I am contracting an alliance so honourable to me, and when I ought, according to custom, to make marriage presents for my son, presents which I am prevented from doing at this moment, only because I am travelling, do you load me with gifts? I cannot accept them; the thought covers me with confusion." "Well!" replied Tchin, "I am not dreaming of offering _you_ such a trifle. It is for my son-in-law, not the father-in-law of my daughter, that I intend this present. Indeed, if you persist in the refusal, I shall consider it as a sign that the alliance is not agreeable to you." Lin-in saw that he must yield, and that resistance would be useless. He humbly accepted the present, and making his son rise from table, ordered him to make a profound reverence to Tchin. "What I have given you," said Tchin, raising him up, "is but a trifle, and deserves no thanks." Hi-eul then went into the house to pay his respects to his mother-in-law. The whole day passed in feasting and diversions; it was only at night that they separated. When Lin-in retired to his chamber, he gave himself up entirely to the reflections to which these events gave rise. "It must be confessed," cried he, "that by restoring the two hundred täels, I have done an action pleasing to Heaven, and now I am rewarded by the happiness of finding my child, and contracting so honourable an alliance. This is, indeed, joy upon joy; it is like putting gold flowers upon a beautiful piece of silk. How can I be sufficiently grateful for so many favours? Here are the twenty täels that my friend Tchin has given me; can I do better than employ them towards the maintenance of some virtuous bonzes? It will be sowing them in a soil of blessings." The next day, after breakfast, the father and son got ready their luggage, and took leave of their host; they proceeded to the quay, hired a boat, and commenced their journey. They had scarcely gone half a league, ere they came in sight of a scene of terrible excitement; the river was full of struggling people, whose cries rent the air. A bark, full of passengers, had just sunk, and the cries of the unfortunate creatures for help were heart-rending! The people on the shore called loudly to several small boats which were near to come to the rescue. But the hard-hearted and selfish boatmen demanded that a good sum should be guaranteed them, before they would bestir themselves. At this critical moment Lin-in's boat came up. The moment he perceived what was going on, he said to himself: "It is a much more meritorious action to save the life of a man, than to adorn the temples and support bonzes. Let us consecrate the twenty täels to this good work; let us succour these poor drowning souls." He instantly proclaimed that he would give the twenty täels amongst those who would take the drowning men into their boats. At this offer all the boatmen crowded towards the scene of the disaster, and the river was, in a moment, covered with their boats; at the same time, some of the spectators on shore, who knew how to swim, threw themselves into the water, and, in a few moments, all were saved, without exception. Lin-in then distributed amongst the boatmen the promised reward. The poor creatures, snatched from a watery grave, came in a body to return thanks to their preserver. One amongst them, having looked attentively at Lin-in, suddenly cried out, "What! is that you, my eldest brother? By what good luck do I find you here?" Lin-in, turning towards him, recognized his youngest brother, Lin-tchin. Then, transported with joy, he exclaimed, clasping his hands, "O wonderful circumstance! Heaven has led me hither to save my brother's life." He instantly reached out his hand to him, and made him come into his boat, helped him off with his wet clothes, and gave him others. As soon as Lin-tchin had sufficiently recovered, he paid the respects due to an elder brother which good breeding demands from a younger, and Lin-in, having acknowledged his politeness, called Hi-eul, who was in the cabin, to come and salute his uncle; he then recounted all his adventures, which threw Lin-tchin into a state of amazement, from which he was a long time in recovering. "But tell me," said Lin-in, at length, "your motive in coming to this country." "It is not possible," replied Lin-tchin, "to tell you in a few words the reason of my travels. In the course of the three years which have elapsed since your departure from home, the melancholy news of your death from illness reached us. My second brother made every inquiry, and assured himself that the report was true. It was a thunderbolt for my sister-in-law; she was inconsolable, and put on the deepest mourning. For my part, I could not give credit to the report. After a few days had elapsed, my second brother tried all in his power to induce my sister-in-law to contract a fresh marriage. She, however, steadily rejected the proposal; at length she prevailed upon me to make a journey to Chan-si, to ascertain upon the spot what had become of you; and, when I least expected it, at the point of perishing in the water, the very person I was in search of, my well-beloved brother, has saved my life. Is not this unexpected good fortune, a blessing from Heaven? But believe me, my brother, there is no time to be lost; make all possible haste to return home, and to put an end to my sister-in-law's grief. The least delay may cause an irreparable misfortune." Lin-in, overwhelmed at this news, sent for the captain of the boat, and, although it was late, ordered him to set sail, and continue the voyage during the night. Whilst all these events were happening to Lin-in, Wang, his wife, was a prey to the most poignant grief. A thousand circumstances led her to suspect that her husband was not dead; but Lin-pao, who by that reported death became the head of the family, so positively assured her that it was true, that, at last, she had allowed herself to be persuaded into that belief, and had assumed the widow's weeds. Lin-pao possessed a bad heart, and was capable of the most unworthy acts. "I have no doubt," said he, "of my elder brother's death. My sister-in-law is young and handsome; she has, besides, no one to support her; I must force her to marry again, and I shall make money by this means." He thereupon communicated his plan to Yang, his wife, and ordered her to employ some clever matchmaker. But Wang resolutely rejected the proposal; she vowed that she would remain a widow, and honour the memory of her husband by her widowhood. Her brother-in-law, Lin-tchin, supported her in her resolution. Thus all the artifices which Lin-pao and his wife employed were useless; and, as every time they urged her on the subject it occurred to her that they had no positive proof of his death, "I am determined," said she, at length, "to know the truth; these reports are often false; it is only on the very spot that certain information can be obtained. True, the distance is nearly a hundred leagues. Still, I know that Lin-tchin is a good-hearted man; he will travel to the province of Chan-si to relieve my anxiety, and learn positively if I am so unfortunate as to have lost my husband; and, if I have, he will, at least, bring me his precious remains." Lin-tchin was asked to undertake the journey, and, without a moment's hesitation, departed. His absence, however, only rendered Lin-pao more eager in the pursuit of his project. To crown the whole, he had gambled very deeply, and, having been a heavy loser, was at his wit's end to know where to obtain money. In this state of embarrassment, he met with a merchant of Kiang-si, who had just lost his wife, and was looking for another. Lin-pao seized upon the opportunity, and proposed his sister-in-law to him. The merchant accepted the offer, taking care, however, to make secret inquiries whether the lady who was proposed to him was young and good-looking. As soon as he was satisfied on these points, he lost no time, and paid down thirty täels to clinch the bargain. Lin-pao, having taken the money, said to the merchant, "I ought to warn you, that my sister-in-law is proud and haughty. She will raise many objections to leaving the house, and you will have a great deal of trouble to force her to do it. Now this will be your best plan for managing it. This evening, as soon as it gets dark, have a palanquin and good strong bearers in readiness; come with as little noise as possible, and present yourself at the door of the house. The young woman who will come to the door, attired in the head-dress of mourners, is my sister-in-law; don't say a word to her, and don't listen to what she may say, but seize her at once, thrust her into your palanquin, carry her to your boat, and set sail at once." This plan met with the approbation of the merchant, and its execution appeared easy enough of accomplishment. In the mean time, Lin-pao returned home, and, in order to prevent his sister-in-law from suspecting any thing of the project he had planned, he assumed an air of the most perfect indifference, but as soon as she left the room, he communicated his plans to his wife, and, alluding to his sister-in-law, in a contemptuous manner, said, "That two-legged piece of goods must leave this house to-night. However, not to be a witness of her tears and sighs, I shall go out beforehand, and, as it gets dark, a merchant of Kiang-si will come, and take her away in a palanquin to his boat." He would have continued the conversation, when he heard the footsteps of some person outside the window, and went hurriedly away. In his haste he forgot to mention the circumstance of the mourning dress. It was doubtless an interposition of Providence that this circumstance was omitted. The lady Wang easily perceived that the noise she made outside the window had caused Lin-pao to break off the conversation suddenly. The tone of his voice plainly showed that he had something more to say; but she had heard enough; for having remarked by his manner that he had some secret to tell his wife when he entered the house, she had pretended to go away, but listening at the window had heard these words distinctly, "They will take her away and put her into a palanquin." These words strongly fortified her suspicions. Her resolution was taken at once. She entered the room, and approaching Yang, gave utterance to her anxiety. "My sister-in-law," said she, "you behold an unfortunate widow, who is bound to you by the strongest ties of a friendship which has been always sincere. By this long-standing friendship I conjure you to tell me candidly whether my brother-in-law still persists in his design of forcing me into a marriage that would cover me with disgrace." At these words Yang at first appeared confused, and changed colour; then, assuming a more confident expression, "What are you thinking of?" she asked, "and what fancies have you got into your head? If there were any intention of making you marry again, do you think there would be any difficulty? What is the good of throwing oneself into the water before the ship is really going to pieces?" The moment the lady Wang heard this allusion to the ship, she understood more clearly the meaning of the secret conference of her brother-in-law with his wife. She now suspected the worst, and gave vent to her lamentations and sighs; and yielding to the current of her grief, she shut herself up in her room, where she wept, groaned, and bewailed her hard lot. "Unfortunate wretch that I am," cried she, "I do not know what has become of my husband. Lin-tchin, my brother-in-law and friend, upon whom alone I can rely, is gone on a journey. My father, mother, and relations live far from hence. If this business is hurried on, how shall I be able to inform them of it? I can hope for no assistance from our neighbours. Lin-pao has made himself the terror of the whole district, and every body knows him to be capable of the greatest villany. Miserable creature that I am! how can I escape his snares? If I do not fall into them to-day, it may be to-morrow, or at any rate in a very short time." She fell to the ground half dead; her fall, and the violence of her grief, made a great noise. The lady Yang, hearing the disturbance, hastened to her room, and finding the door firmly fastened, concluded that it was a plan of her distracted sister-in-law to evade the scheme of the night; she therefore seized a bar which stood by and broke the door open. As she entered the room, the night being very dark, she caught her feet in the clothes of the lady Wang, and fell tumbling over her. In her fall she lost her head-dress, which flew to some distance, and the fright and fall brought on a faint, in which she remained for some time. When she recovered she got up, went for a light, and returned to the room, where she found the lady Wang stretched on the floor, without motion and almost without breath. At the moment she was going to procure other assistance, she heard a gentle knock at the door. She knew it must be the merchant of Kiang-si come to fetch the wife he had bought. She quickly ran to receive him and bring him into the room, that he might himself be witness of what had occurred; but remembering that she had no head-dress, and that she was unfit to present herself in that state, she hastily caught up the one she found at her feet, which was the lady Wang's head-dress of mourning, and ran to the door. It was indeed the merchant of Kiang-si, who had come to fetch away his promised bride. He had a bridal palanquin, ornamented with silk flags, festoons, flowers, and several gay lanterns; it was surrounded by servants bearing lighted torches, and by a troop of flute and hautboy-players. The whole cortége was stationed in the street in perfect silence. The merchant, having knocked gently and finding the door open, entered the house with some of those who bore torches to light him. Upon the lady Yang's appearance, the merchant, who spied at a glance the mourning head-dress, which was the mark by which he was to distinguish his bride, flew upon her like a hungry kite upon a sparrow. His followers rushed in, carried off the lady, and shut her into the palanquin, which was all ready to receive her. It was in vain she endeavoured to make herself heard, crying out, "You are mistaken; it is not me you want." The music struck up as she was forced into the palanquin, and drowned her voice, whilst the bearers flew rather than walked, and bore her to the boat. [Illustration: The lady Yang carried off in the Palanquin, p. 122.] Whilst all this was taking place, the lady Wang had gradually revived and come to her senses. The great hubbub she heard at the door of the house renewed her fears, and occasioned her the most painful anxiety; but as she found that the noise of music, and the tumult of voices, which had arisen so suddenly died gradually away in the distance, she regained her courage, and after a few minutes summoned up strength to go and inquire what was the matter. After calling her sister-in-law two or three times without effect, the truth began to dawn on her; and after considering the matter carefully, she could only come to the conclusion that the merchant had made a mistake, and had carried off the wrong lady. But now a fresh cause of uneasiness arose; she dreaded the consequences when Lin-pao should return and be informed of the mistake. She shut herself up in her room, and after picking up the head-pins, the earrings, and the head-dress, which were lying on the floor, threw herself, quite worn out with fatigue and anxiety, on her couch, and endeavoured to get a little sleep, but she was not able to close her eyes all night. At daybreak she rose and bathed her face, and proceeded to complete her toilet. As, however, she was searching about for her mourning head-dress, some one began making a great noise at the room-door, knocking loudly and crying out, "Open the door instantly!" It was, in fact, Lin-pao himself. She recognized the voice at once. She made up her mind at once what to do; she let him go on knocking without answering him. He swore, stormed and bawled, till he was hoarse. At length the lady Wang went to the door, and standing behind it without opening it, asked, "Who is knocking there, and making such a disturbance?" Lin-pao, who recognized the voice of his sister-in-law, began to shout still louder: but seeing that his storming had no effect, he had recourse to an expedient which proved successful. "Sister-in-law," said he, "I have brought you good news! Lin-tchin, my youngest brother, has come back, and our eldest brother is in excellent health; open the door at once!" Overjoyed at this intelligence, the lady Wang ran to complete her toilet, and in her haste put on the black[8] head-dress that her sister-in-law had left behind, and eagerly opened the door; but, alas! in vain did she look for her friend Lin-tchin; no one was there but Lin-pao. He entered her room hurriedly and looked round, but not seeing his wife, and perceiving a black head-dress on the head of his sister-in-law, his suspicions began to be excited in a strange manner. "Well! where is your sister-in-law?" he asked roughly. "You ought to know better than I," replied the lady Wang, "since you had the whole management of this admirable plot." "But tell me," returned Lin-pao, "why don't you still wear a white head-dress? have you left off mourning?" The lady Wang forthwith proceeded to relate to him all that had happened during his absence. Just at this moment he caught sight through the window of four or five persons hurrying towards his house. To his utter astonishment he perceived that they were his eldest brother Lin-in, his youngest brother Lin-tchin, his nephew Hi-eul, and two servants carrying their luggage. Lin-pao, thunderstruck at this sight, and not having impudence enough to face them, ran off by the back-door, and disappeared like a flash of lightning. The lady Wang was transported with joy at her husband's return. But who shall describe her ecstasies of joy when her son was presented to her? She could scarcely recognize him, so tall and handsome had he grown. "Oh!" cried she, "by what good fortune did you recover our dear child, whom I thought we had lost for ever?" Lin-in gave her in detail an account of his adventures; and the lady Wang related at length all the indignities she had endured at the hands of Lin-pao, and the extremities to which she had been reduced by his scandalous treatment. Lin-in lavished on his wife encomiums which indeed her fidelity deserved; after which, reflecting on the whole chain of events by which the present meeting had been brought about, he seemed deeply moved, and remarked, "If a blind passion for wealth had caused me to keep the two hundred täels I found by accident, how should I have ever met with our dear child? If avarice had prevented me from employing the twenty täels in saving those drowning people, my dear brother would have perished in the waves, and I should never have seen him; if by an unlooked-for chance I had not met my kind-hearted brother, how should I have discovered the trouble and confusion that reigned in this house in time to prevent its disastrous consequences? But for all this, my beloved wife, we should never have seen each other again. I recognize the special interposition of Providence in bringing about all these things. As to my other brother, that unnatural brother, who has unconsciously sold his own wife, he has drawn upon himself his own terrible punishment. Heaven rewards men according to their deserts; let them not think to escape its judgments. "Let us learn from this how profitable in the end, as well as good, it is to practise virtue; it is that alone which bestows lasting prosperity upon a house." In due course of time Hi-eul brought home his bride, the daughter of Tchin. The marriage was celebrated with great rejoicings, and proved a happy one. They had several children, and lived to see a crowd of grandchildren, several of whom became men of learning, and acquired important positions in the state. CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF PRINCE KHALAF AND THE PRINCESS OF CHINA. The prince applauded the narrative of the story-teller; and, dinner being over, he prostrated himself a second time before the khan, and, after thanking him for his goodness, returned to the tent, where Elmaze and Timurtasch were anxiously expecting him. "I bring you good news," said he to them; "our fortune has changed already." He then related to them all that had passed. This fortunate event caused them the greatest pleasure; they regarded it as an infallible sign that the hardness of their destiny was beginning to soften. They willingly followed Khalaf, who conducted them to the royal tent and presented them to the khan. This prince received them with courtesy, and renewed to them the promise he had given to their son; and he did not fail to keep his word. He appointed them a private tent, caused them to be waited on by the slaves and officers of his household, and ordered them to be treated with the same respect as himself. The next day Khalaf was arrayed in a rich dress; he received from the hand of Almguer himself a sabre with a diamond hilt and a purse full of gold sequins; they then brought him a beautiful Turcoman horse. He mounted before all the court; and to show that he understood the management of a horse, he made him go through all his paces and evolutions in a manner that charmed the prince and all his courtiers. After having thanked the khan for all his benefits, he took his leave. He then sought Elmaze and Timurtasch; and after some time spent in desultory conversation, proceeded to unfold to them a scheme which for some days past had been agitating his mind. "I have a great desire," said he, "to see the great kingdom of China; give me permission to gratify that wish. I have a presentiment that I shall signalize myself by some splendid action, and that I shall gain the friendship of the monarch who holds that vast empire under his sway. Suffer me to leave you in this asylum, where you are in perfect safety, and where you can want for nothing. I am following an impulse which inspires me, or rather, I am yielding myself to the guidance of Heaven." "Go, my son," replied Timurtasch; "yield to the noble impulse which animates you; hasten to the fortune that awaits you. Accelerate by your valour the arrival of that tardy prosperity which must one day succeed our misfortunes, or by a glorious death deserve an illustrious place in the history of unfortunate princes." The young prince of the Nagäis, after having embraced his father and mother, mounted upon his beautiful charger, took a respectful leave of the khan, received from the hand of the princess Elmaze, who came out of her tent for the purpose, the parting cup, and set out on his journey. Historians do not mention that he encountered any thing worthy notice on his route; they only say that, having arrived at the great city Canbalac, otherwise Pekin, he dismounted at a house near the gate, where a worthy woman, a widow, lived. Khalaf reined up his horse here, and on the widow presenting herself at the door, he saluted her and said, "My good mother, would you kindly receive a stranger? If you could give me a lodging in your house, I can venture to say that you will have no cause to regret it." The widow scrutinized him; and judging from his good looks, as well as from his dress, that he was no mean guest, she made him a low bow, and replied, "Young stranger of noble bearing, my house is at your service, and all that it contains." "Have you also a place where I can put my horse?" "Yes," said she, "I have," and called a young slave, who took the horse by the bridle, and led him into a small stable behind the house. Khalaf, who felt very hungry, then asked her if she would kindly send and buy something for him in the market. The widow replied, that she had a maiden who lived with her, and who would execute his orders. The prince then drew from his purse a sequin of gold and placed it in the girl's hand, who went off to the market. In the mean time, the widow had enough to do to answer the inquiries of Khalaf. He asked her a thousand questions; what were the customs of the inhabitants of the city? how many families Pekin was said to contain? and, at length, the conversation fell upon the king of China. "Tell me, I pray you," said Khalaf, "what is the character this prince bears. Is he generous, and do you think that he would pay any regard to a young stranger, who might offer to serve him against his enemies? In a word, is he a man to whose interests I could worthily attach myself?" "Doubtless," replied the widow; "he is an excellent prince, who loves his subjects as much as he is beloved by them, and I am surprised that you have never heard of our good king, Altoun-Khan, for the fame of his justice and liberality is spread far and wide." "From the favourable picture you draw of him," replied the prince of the Nagäis, "I should imagine that he ought to be the happiest and most prosperous monarch in the world." "He is not so, however," replied the widow; "indeed, he may be said to be the most wretched. In the first place, he has no prince to succeed him on his throne; a male heir is denied him, notwithstanding all the prayers of himself and his subjects, and all the good deeds he performs to that end. But I must tell you, the grief of having no son is not his greatest trouble; what principally disturbs the peace of his life is the princess Tourandocte, his only daughter." "How is it," replied Khalaf, "that she is such a source of grief to him?" "I will tell you," replied the widow; "and, indeed, I can speak upon the subject from the very best authority; for my daughter has often told me the story and she has the honour of being among the attendants on the princess." "The princess Tourandocte," continued the hostess of the prince of the Nagäis, "is in her nineteenth year; she is so beautiful, that the artists to whom she has sat for her portrait, although the most expert in the East, have all confessed that they were ashamed of their efforts; and that the most able painter in the world, and the best skilled in delineating the charms of a beautiful face, could not express those of the princess of China; nevertheless, the different portraits which have been taken of her, although infinitely inferior to the original, have produced the most disastrous consequences. "She combines, with her ravishing beauty, a mind so cultivated, that she not only understands all that is usual for persons in her station to know, but is mistress of sciences suited only for the other sex. She can trace the various characters of several languages, she is acquainted with arithmetic, geography, philosophy, mathematics, law, and, above all, theology, she knows the laws and moral philosophy of our great legislator, Berginghuzin; in fact, is as learned as all the wise men put together. But her good qualities are effaced by a hardness of heart without parallel, and all her accomplishments are tarnished by detestable cruelty. "It is now two years ago since the king of Thibet sent to ask her in marriage for his son, who had fallen in love with her from a portrait he had seen. Altoun-Khan, delighted with the prospect of this alliance, proposed it to Tourandocte. The haughty princess, to whom all men appeared despicable, so vain had her beauty rendered her, rejected the proposal with disdain. The king flew into a violent rage with her, and declared that he would be obeyed; but instead of submitting dutifully to the wishes of her father, she burst into bitter lamentations, because he showed a disposition to force her to comply; she grieved immoderately, as though it were intended to inflict a great injury upon her; in fact, she took it so much to heart that she fell seriously ill. The physicians, who soon discovered the secret of her complaint, told the king that all their remedies were useless, and that the princess would certainly lose her life, if he persisted in his resolution to make her espouse the prince of Thibet. "The king then, who loves his daughter to distraction, alarmed at the danger she was in, went to see her, and assured her that he would send back the ambassador with a refusal. 'That is not enough, my lord,' replied the princess; 'I am resolved to die, except you grant what I ask you. If you wish me to live, you must bind yourself by an inviolable oath never to try to influence my wishes in this matter, and to publish a decree declaring that of all the princes who may seek my hand, none shall be allowed to espouse me who shall not previously have replied, without hesitation, to the questions which I shall put to him before all the learned men in this city; that if his answers prove satisfactory, I will consent to his becoming my husband, but if the reverse, that he shall lose his head in the court-yard of your palace.' "'By this edict,' added she, 'of which all the foreign princes who may arrive at Pekin shall be informed, you will extinguish all desire of asking me in marriage; and that is exactly what I wish, for I hate men, and do not wish to be married.' "'But, my child,' said the king, 'if by chance some one should present himself, and reply to your questions?'-- "'Ha! I do not fear that,' she said quickly, interrupting him; 'I can put questions which would puzzle the most learned doctors; I am willing to run that risk.' "Altoun-Khan pondered over what the princess demanded of him. 'I see clearly,' thought he, 'that my daughter does not wish to marry, and the effect of this edict will be to frighten away all lovers. I run no risk, therefore, in yielding to her fancies, no evil can come of it. What prince would be mad enough to face such danger?' "At length the king, persuaded that this edict would not be followed by any bad results, and that the recovery of his daughter entirely depended upon it, caused it to be published, and swore upon the laws of Berginghuzin to see that it was observed to the letter. Tourandocte, reassured by this oath, which she knew her father dare not violate, regained her strength, and was soon restored to perfect health. "In spite of the decree, the fame of her beauty attracted several young princes to Pekin. It was in vain that they were informed of the nature of the edict; and as every body, but particularly a young prince, entertains a good opinion of himself, they had the hardihood to present themselves to reply to the questions of the princess; and not being able to fathom her deep meaning, they perished miserably one after another. "The king, to do him justice, appears deeply afflicted with their sad fate. He repents of having made the oath which binds him; and however tenderly he may love his daughter, he would now almost rather he had let her die than have saved her life at such a price. He does all in his power to prevent these evils. When a lover whom the decree cannot restrain comes to demand the hand of the princess, he strives to deter him from his purpose; and he never consents, but with the deepest regret, to his exposing himself to the chance of losing his life. But it generally happens that he is unable to dissuade these rash young men. They are infatuated with Tourandocte, and the hope of possessing her blinds them to the difficulty of obtaining her. "But if the king shows so much grief at the ruin of the unfortunate princes, it is not the case with his barbarous daughter. She takes a pride in these spectacles of blood with which her beauty periodically furnishes the Chinese. So great is her vanity, that she considers the most accomplished prince not only unworthy of her, but most insolent in daring to raise his thoughts towards her, and she looks upon his death as a just chastisement for his temerity. "But what is still more deplorable, Heaven is perpetually permitting princes to come and sacrifice themselves to this inhuman princess. Only the other day, a prince, who flattered himself that he had knowledge enough to reply to her questions, lost his life; and this very night another is to die, who, unfortunately, came to the court of China with the same hopes." Khalaf was deeply attentive to the widow's story. "I cannot understand," said he, after she had ceased speaking, "how any princes can be found sufficiently devoid of judgment to come and ask the hand of the princess of China. What man would not be terrified at the condition without which he cannot hope to obtain her? Besides, despite what the artists may say who have painted her portrait; although they may affirm that their productions are but an imperfect image of her beauty, my firm belief is that they have added charms, and that their portraits exaggerate her beauty, since they have produced such powerful effects; indeed, I cannot think that Tourandocte is so beautiful as you say." "Sir," replied the widow, "she is more lovely by far than I have described her to you; and you may believe me, for I have seen her several times when I have gone to the harem to visit my daughter. Draw upon your fancy as you please, collect in your imagination all that can possibly be brought together in order to constitute a perfect beauty, and be assured that even then you would not have pictured to yourself an object which could approach the perfections of the princess." The prince of the Nagäis could not credit the story of the widow, so overdrawn did he consider it; he felt, nevertheless, a secret pleasure for which he could not account. "But, my mother," said he, "are the questions which the king's daughter proposes so difficult of solution that it is impossible to reply to them to the satisfaction of the lawyers who are judges? For my part, I cannot help thinking that the princes who were not able to penetrate the meaning of her questions, must have been persons of very little ingenuity, if not absolutely ignorant." "No, no!" replied the widow. "There is no enigma more obscure than the questions of the princess, and it is almost impossible to reply to them." Whilst they were conversing thus of Tourandocte and her lovers, the girl arrived from the market loaded with provisions. Khalaf sat down to a table which the widow had prepared, and ate like a man famishing with hunger. Whilst thus engaged the night drew on, and they heard shortly in the town the gong of justice. The prince asked what the noise meant. "It is to give notice to the people," replied the widow, "that some person is going to be executed; and the unfortunate victim about to be immolated is the prince of whom I told you, and who is to be executed to-night for not being able to answer the princess's questions. It is customary to punish the guilty during the day, but this is an exceptional case. The king, who in his heart abhors the punishment which he causes to be inflicted upon the lovers of his daughter, will not suffer the sun to be witness of such a cruel action." The son of Timurtasch had a wish to see this execution, the cause of which appeared so singular to him. He went out of the house, and meeting a crowd of Chinese in the street animated by the same curiosity, he mixed with them, and went to the court-yard of the palace, where the tragic scene was to be enacted. He beheld in the middle of the yard a _schebt-cheraghe_, in other words a very high wooden tower, the outside of which, from the top to the bottom, was covered with branches of cypress, amongst which a prodigious quantity of lamps, tastefully arranged, spread a brilliant light around, and illuminated the whole court-yard. Fifteen cubits from the tower a scaffold was raised, covered with white satin, and around the scaffold were arranged several pavilions of taffetas of the same colour open towards the scaffold. Behind these two thousand soldiers of the guard of Altoun-Khan were stationed, with drawn swords and axes in their hands, forming a double rank, which served as a barrier against the people. Khalaf was looking with deep attention at all that presented itself to his view, when suddenly the mournful ceremony commenced. It was ushered in by a confused noise of drums and bells, which proceeded from the town, and could be heard at a great distance. At the same moment twenty mandarins and as many judges, all dressed in long robes of white woollen cloth, emerged from the palace, advanced towards the scaffold, and after walking three times around it, took their places under the pavilions. Next came the victim, crowned with flowers interwoven with cypress leaves, and with a blue fillet round his head,--not a red one, such as criminals condemned by justice wear. He was a young prince, who had scarcely reached his eighteenth year; he was accompanied by a mandarin leading him by the hand, and followed by the executioner. The three ascended the scaffold; instantly the noise of the drums and bells ceased. The mandarin then addressed the prince in a tone so loud that he was heard by nearly the whole concourse of people. "Prince," said he, "is it not true that you were apprised of the terms of the king's edict before you presented yourself to ask the princess in marriage? Is it not also true that the king himself used all his endeavours to dissuade you from your rash resolution?" The prince, having replied in the affirmative, "Acknowledge, then," continued the mandarin, "that it is by your own fault that you lose your life to-day, and that the king and princess are not guilty of your death." "I pardon them," returned the prince; "I impute my death to myself alone, and I pray Heaven not to require of them my blood which is about to be shed." He had scarcely finished these words, when the executioner swept off his head with one stroke of the sword. The air instantly resounded with the noise of the drums and the bells. Then twelve mandarins took up the body, laid it in a coffin of ivory and ebony, and placed it upon a litter, which six of them bore away upon their shoulders into the gardens of Serail. Here they deposited it under a dome of white marble, which the king had ordered to be erected purposely to be the resting-place of all those unfortunate princes who should share the same fate. He often retired there to weep upon the tombs of those who were buried within it, and tried, by honouring their ashes with his tears, in some measure to atone for the barbarity of his child. As soon as the mandarins had carried away the body of the prince who had just suffered, the people and all the councillors retired to their homes, blaming the king for having had the imprudence to sanction such barbarity by an oath that he could not break. Khalaf remained in the court-yard of the palace in a state of bewilderment; he noticed a man near him weeping bitterly; he guessed that it was some person who was deeply interested in the execution that had just taken place, and wishing to know more about it, addressed him in these words: "I am deeply moved," said he, "by the lively grief you exhibit, and I sympathize in your troubles, for I cannot doubt that you were intimately acquainted with the prince who has just suffered." "Ah! sir," replied the mourner, with a fresh outburst of grief, "I ought indeed to know him, for I was his tutor. O unhappy king of Samarcand!" added he, "what will be thy grief when thou shalt be told of the extraordinary death of thy son? and who shall dare to carry thee the news?" Khalaf asked by what means the prince of Samarcand had become enamoured of the princess of China. "I will tell you," replied the tutor: "and you will doubtless be astonished at the recital I am about to make. The prince of Samarcand," pursued he, "lived happily at his father's court. The court looked upon him as a prince who would one day be their sovereign, and they studied to please him as much as the king himself. He usually passed the day in hunting and playing at ball, and at night he assembled secretly in his apartments the distinguished youth of the court, with whom he drank all sorts of liquors. He sometimes amused himself by seeing the beautiful slaves dance, or by listening to music and singing. In a word, his life was passed in a constant round of pleasure. "One day a famous painter arrived at Samarcand with several portraits of princesses which he had painted in the different courts through which he had passed. He showed them to my prince, who, looking at the first he presented, said, 'These are very beautiful pictures; I am certain that the originals are under a deep obligation to you.' "'My lord,' replied the artist, 'I confess that in these portraits I have somewhat flattered the sitters; but I crave permission to tell you that I have one far more beautiful than these, which does not approach the original.' Saying this, he drew from the case which contained his portraits that of the princess of China. "Scarcely had my master looked at it, when not conceiving that nature was capable of producing so perfect a beauty, he exclaimed that there was not in the world a woman of such exquisite loveliness, and that the portrait of the princess of China was more flattering than the others. The artist protested that it was not, and assured him that no pencil could convey an idea of the grace and beauty which shone in the countenance of the princess Tourandocte. Upon this assurance my master bought the portrait, which made so deep an impression on him, that, leaving the court of his father, he quitted Samarcand, accompanied by me alone, and without informing any one of his intentions, took the road for China, and came to this city. He volunteered to serve Altoun-Khan against his enemies, and asked the hand of his daughter the princess. We were apprized of the severe edict connected with the proposal, but alas! my prince, instead of being dismayed by the severity of the conditions, conceived the liveliest joy. 'I will go,' said he, 'and present myself to answer the questions of Tourandocte; I am not deficient in talent or ready wit, and I shall obtain the hand of the princess.' "It is needless to tell you the rest, sir," continued the tutor, sobbing; "you may judge by the mournful spectacle you have beheld that the unfortunate prince of Samarcand was unable to answer, as he hoped, the fatal questions of this barbarous beauty, whose delight is to shed blood, and who has already been the means of sacrificing the lives of several kings' sons. A few moments before his death he gave me the portrait of this cruel princess. 'I entrust,' said he, 'this portrait to thee; guard carefully the precious deposit. Thou hast but to show it to my father when thou informest him of my sad fate, and I doubt not that when he beholds so beautiful a face, he will pardon my temerity.' But," added the old man, "let any one else who pleases carry the sad news to the king his father; for my part, borne down by the weight of my affliction, I will go far from hence and Samarcand, and mourn for my beloved charge. This is what you wished to know; and here is the dangerous portrait," pursued he, taking it from beneath his cloak and throwing it on the ground in a paroxysm of rage; "behold the cause of the sad fate of my prince. O execrable portrait! why had my master not my eyes when he took thee into his hands? O inhuman princess! may all the princes of the earth entertain for thee the same sentiments as those with which thou hast inspired me! Instead of being the object of their love, thou wouldest then be their aversion." Saying this, the tutor of the prince of Samarcand retired full of rage, regarding the palace with a furious eye and without speaking another word to the son of Timurtasch. The latter quickly picked up the portrait of Tourandocte, and turned to retrace his steps to the house of the widow; but he missed his way in the darkness, and wandered heedlessly out of the city. He impatiently awaited the daylight to enable him to contemplate the beauty of the princess of China. As soon as the approach of dawn furnished him with sufficient light to satisfy his curiosity, he opened the case which contained the portrait. Still he hesitated before he looked at it. "What am I about to do?" cried he; "ought I to disclose to my eyes so dangerous an object? Think, Khalaf, think of the direful effects it has caused; hast thou already forgotten what the tutor of the prince of Samarcand has just narrated to thee? Look not on this portrait; resist the impulse which urges thee, it is nothing more than a feeling of idle curiosity. Whilst thou retainest thy reason thou canst prevent thy destruction. But what do I say? prevent," added he, checking himself; "with what false reasoning does my timid prudence inspire me. If I am to love the princess, is not my love already written in indelible characters in the book of fate. Besides, I think that it is possible to look upon the most beautiful portrait with impunity; one must be weak, indeed, to be influenced by the sight of a vain array of colours. Never fear; let us scan these surpassing and murderous features without emotion. I will even find defects, and taste the pleasure of criticizing the charms of this too beautiful princess; and I could wish, in order to mortify her vanity, that she might learn that I have looked upon her portrait without emotion." The son of Timurtasch had fully made up his mind to look upon the portrait of Tourandocte with an indifferent eye. He now casts his eyes on it, he regards it attentively, examines it, admires the contour of the countenance, the regularity of the features, the vivacity of the eyes,--the mouth, the nose, all appear perfect; he is surprised at so rare a combination of perfect features, and although still on his guard, he allows himself to be charmed. An inconceivable uneasiness takes possession of him in spite of himself; he can no longer understand his feelings. "What fire," said he, "has suddenly kindled itself in my bosom! What tumult has this portrait produced in my thoughts! Merciful Heaven, is it the lot of all those who look upon this portrait to become enamoured of this inhuman princess? Alas! I feel but too surely that she has made the same impression upon me, as she did upon the unhappy prince of Samarcand; I yield to the charms that wounded him, and far from being terrified by his melancholy fate, I could almost envy his very misfortune. What a change, gracious Heaven! I could not conceive a short time ago, how one could be mad enough to despise the severity of the edict, and now I see nothing that frightens me, all the danger has vanished. "No! incomparable princess," pursued he, devouring the portrait with an enamoured gaze, "no obstacle can stop me, I love you spite of your barbarity; and since it is permitted to me to aspire to your possession, from this day I will strive to win you; if I perish in the bold attempt, I shall only feel in dying the grief of not being able to possess you." Khalaf, having formed the resolve of demanding the hand of the princess, returned to the widow's house, a journey which cost him no little trouble, for he had rambled to some considerable distance during the night. "Ah! my son," exclaimed his hostess, as soon as she beheld him, "I am so glad to see you, I was very uneasy about you, I feared some accident had befallen you; why did you not return earlier?" "My good mother," replied he, "I am sorry to have caused you any uneasiness, I missed my way in the darkness." He then related to her how he had met the tutor of the prince whom they had put to death, and did not fail to repeat to her all that he had told him. Then showing her the portrait of Tourandocte; "Tell me," said he, "if this portrait is only an imperfect likeness of the princess of China; for my part, I cannot conceive that it is not equal to the original." "By the soul of the prophet Jacmouny," cried the widow, after she had examined the portrait, "the princess is a thousand times more beautiful, and infinitely more charming than she is here represented. I wish you could see her, you would be of my opinion, that all the artists in the world who should undertake to paint her as she really is, could never succeed. I will not even make an exception in favour of the famous Many." "You delight me above measure," replied the prince of the Nagäis, "by assuring me that the beauty of Tourandocte surpasses all the efforts of the artist's power. How flattering the assurance! It strengthens me in my determination, and incites me to attempt at once the brilliant adventure. Oh that I were before the princess! I burn with impatience to try whether I shall be more fortunate than the prince of Samarcand." "What do you say, my son?" eagerly asked the widow, "what enterprise are you so rashly planning? And do you seriously think of carrying it into effect?" "Yes, my good mother," returned Khalaf, "I intend this very day to present myself to answer the questions of the princess. I came to China only with the intention of offering my services to the great king, Altoun-Khan, but it is better to be his son-in-law than an officer in his army." At these words the widow burst into tears. "Ah! sir, in the name of Heaven do not persist in so rash a resolution; you will certainly perish if you are bold enough to aspire to the hand of the princess; instead of allowing her beauty to charm you, let it be the object of your detestation, since it has been the cause of so many frightful tragedies; picture to yourself what the grief of your parents will be when they hear of your death; let the thoughts of the mortal grief into which you will plunge them deter you." "For pity's sake, my mother," interrupted the son of Timurtasch, "cease to present to my mind such affecting images. I cannot be ignorant, that if it be my destiny to die this day, my sad end will be a source of bitter and inexhaustible grief to my beloved parents; nay, I can conceive their misery being so excessive as to endanger their own lives, for well do I know their extreme affection for me; notwithstanding all this, however, notwithstanding the gratitude with which their love ought to inspire, and indeed does inspire me, I must yield to the passion that consumes me. But, what! Is it not in hopes of making them more happy that I am about to expose my life? Yes, doubtless, their interest is bound up with the desire that urges me on, and I feel sure that if my father were here, far from opposing my design, he would rather excite me to its speedy execution. My resolution is taken; waste no more time in trying to dissuade me; nothing shall shake my determination." When the widow found that her young guest would not heed her advice, her grief increased. "So it must be, then, sir," continued she; "you will not be restrained from rushing headlong on your destruction. Why was it ordained that you should come to lodge in my house? why did I speak of Tourandocte? You became enamoured of her from the description I gave of her; wretched woman that I am, it is I who have caused your ruin; why must I reproach myself with your death?" "No, my good mother," said the prince of the Nagäis, interrupting her a second time, "you are not the cause of my misfortune; do not blame yourself because I love the princess; I am to love her, and do but fulfil my destiny. Besides, how do you know that I shall not be able to reply to her questions? I am not without understanding, and I have studied much; and Heaven may have reserved for me the honour of delivering the king of China from the grief with which his frightful oath overwhelms him. But," added he, drawing out the purse which the khan of Berlas had given him, and which still contained a considerable quantity of gold pieces, "as my success is after all uncertain, and I may chance to die, I make you a present of this purse to console you for my death. You may sell my horse and keep the money, for it will be of no more use to me, whether the daughter of Altoun-Khan become the reward of my boldness, or my death be the mournful forfeit of my audacity." The widow took the purse from Khalaf, saying, "O my son, you are much mistaken if you imagine that these pieces of gold will console me for your loss. I will employ them in good works, I will distribute a portion among the poor in the hospitals, who bear their afflictions with patience, and whose prayers are consequently acceptable to Heaven; the remainder I will give to the ministers of our religion, that they all may pray together that Heaven may inspire you, and not suffer you to perish. All the favour I ask you is, not to go to-day and present yourself to answer the questions of Tourandocte; wait till to-morrow, the time is not long; grant me that interval to enlist the hearts of the pious in your behalf, and propitiate our Prophet in your favour, after that you can do as you think best. I pray you to grant me that favour; I am bold to say that you owe it to one who has conceived so great a friendship for you, that she would be inconsolable if you were to die." Indeed Khalaf's appearance had made a favourable impression upon her, for, besides being one of the handsomest princes in the world, his manners were so easy and pleasing that it was impossible to see him without loving him. He was moved by the grief and affection the good lady exhibited. "Well, my mother," said he, "I will do as you desire me; and I will not go to-day to ask the hand of the princess; but, to speak my sentiments frankly, I don't believe that even your prophet Jacmouny will be able to make me forego my determination." The following morning, the prince appeared more determined than ever to demand Tourandocte. "Adieu, my good mother," said he, to the widow. "I am sorry that you have given yourself so much trouble on my account; you might have spared it, for I assured you yesterday that I should be of the same mind." With these words, he left the widow, who, giving herself up to the deepest sorrow, covered her face with her veil, and sat with her head on her knees, overwhelmed with indescribable grief. The young prince of the Nagäis, perfumed with rare scents and more beautiful than the moon, repaired to the palace. He found at the gate five elephants, and, on each side, a line of two thousand soldiers, with helmets on their heads, armed with shields, and covered with plate armour. One of the principal officers in command of the troops, judging from Khalaf's air that he was a stranger, stopped him, and demanded his business at the palace. "I am a foreign prince," replied the son of Timurtasch. "I am come to present myself to the king, and pray him to grant me permission to reply to the questions of the princess his daughter." The officer, at these words, regarding him with astonishment, said to him, "Prince, do you know that you come to seek death? You would have done more wisely to have remained in your own country, than form the design which brings you hither; retrace your steps, and do not flatter yourself with the deceitful hope that you will obtain the hand of the cruel Tourandocte. Although you may have studied until you have become more learned in science than all the mandarins, you will never be able to fathom the meaning of her ambiguous questions." "Accept my heartfelt thanks," replied Khalaf; "but, believe me, I am not come thus far to retreat." "Go on to your certain death, then," returned the officer, in a tone of chagrin, "since it is impossible to restrain you." At the same moment, he allowed him to enter the palace, and then, turning towards some other officers who had been listening to their conversation, he said, "How handsome and well-grown this young prince is. It is a pity he should die so early." Khalaf traversed several saloons, and, at length, found himself in the hall where the king was accustomed to give audience to his people. In it was placed the steel throne of Cathay, made in the form of a dragon, three cubits high; four lofty columns, of the same material, supported above it a vast canopy of yellow satin, ornamented with precious stones. Altoun-Khan, dressed in a caftan of gold brocade upon a crimson ground, was seated on his throne, with an air of gravity which was in admirable keeping with his long moustache and ample beard. The monarch, after listening to some of his subjects, cast his eyes by chance to where the prince of the Nagäis stood amongst the crowd; he saw, at once, by his noble bearing and splendid dress, that he was not a man of common birth; he pointed out Khalaf to one of his mandarins, and gave an order, in an undertone, to learn his rank, and the reason of his visit to his court. The mandarin approached the son of Timurtasch, and told him that the king desired to know who he was, and whether he wished to make any request of the king. "You may tell the king, your master," replied the prince, "that I am the only son of a king, and that I am come to endeavour to merit the honour of becoming his son-in-law." Altoun-Khan no sooner learned the reply of the prince of the Nagäis, than he changed colour; his august countenance became pale as death, he broke up the audience, and dismissed all the people; he then descended from his throne, and, approaching Khalaf, "Rash young man," said he, "are you aware of the severity of my edict, and of the miserable fate of those who have hitherto persisted in their desire to obtain the hand of the princess my daughter?" "Yes, my lord," replied the son of Timurtasch, "I know all the danger I incur; my eyes have witnessed the just and severe punishment your majesty inflicted upon the prince of Samarcand; but the deplorable end of the audacious youths who have flattered themselves with the sweet, though vain, hope of possessing the princess Tourandocte, only stimulates the desire I have of deserving her." "What madness!" rejoined the king; "scarcely has one prince lost his life, than another presents himself to share the same fate; it appears as though they took a pleasure in sacrificing themselves. What blindness! Reconsider the step you are taking, and be less prodigal of your blood; you inspire me with more pity than any who have hitherto come to seek their destruction; I feel a growing inclination towards you, and wish to do all in my power to hinder you from perishing. Return to your father's kingdom, and do not inflict upon him the pain of learning from strangers' lips the sad intelligence that he will never more behold his only son." "My lord," replied Khalaf, "I am overjoyed to hear, from your majesty's own lips, that I have the honour of pleasing you; I draw a happy presage from it. It may be that Heaven, touched by the misfortunes caused by the beauty of the princess, will use me as a means of putting an end to them, and securing you, at the same time, tranquillity for the remainder of your life, which the necessity of authorizing these cruel deeds disturbs. Can you be sure that I shall not be able to answer the questions that may be put to me? What certainty have you that I shall perish? If others have been unable to fathom the depths of the obscure propositions of Tourandocte, is it to be concluded that I cannot penetrate their meaning? No, my lord, their example shall never make me renounce the brilliant honour of having you for a father-in-law." "Ah! unhappy prince," replied the king, melting into tears, "you wish to die; all the princes who have presented themselves before you, to answer the fatal questions put by my daughter, used the same language; they all hoped that they could penetrate her meaning, and not one was able to do so. Alas! you will be the dupe of your own confidence. Once more, my son, let me dissuade you. I love you, and wish to save you; do not frustrate my good intentions by your obstinacy; whatever confidence you may feel, distrust it. You deceive yourself, if you imagine that you will be able to answer upon the spot what the princess may propose to you; you will, it is true, have seven minutes to answer in; that is the rule. But if in that time you do not give a satisfactory reply, and one that shall be approved of by all the doctors and wise men who are appointed the judges, that moment you will be declared worthy of death, and on the following night will be conducted to execution. So, prince, retire; pass the rest of the day in considering what is your duty in reference to the step you propose to take; consult wise persons, reflect well, and to-morrow let me know your determination." When the king had finished speaking, he dismissed Khalaf, who immediately quitted the palace, much mortified that he was obliged to wait till the next day, for he was no way daunted by what the king had said. He returned to his hostess without exhibiting the least concern about the danger to which he had determined to expose himself. As soon as he presented himself to the widow, and had related all that had passed at the palace, she began to remonstrate with him afresh, and bring every argument she could think of into play to dissuade him from his enterprise; but her efforts were crowned with no better success, and she had the mortification of seeing that they only inflamed her young guest more, and strengthened him in his resolution. The next day the prince returned to the palace, and was announced to the king, who received him in his cabinet, not wishing any one to be present at their interview. "Well, prince," began Altoun-Khan, "am I to rejoice or grieve at your presence here to-day? What is your determination?" "My lord," replied Khalaf, "I am in the same mind as yesterday. Before I had the honour of presenting myself then before your majesty, I had thoroughly reflected upon the matter; and I am still prepared to suffer the same punishment as my rivals, if Heaven has not otherwise ordained." At these words the king smote his breast, rent his clothes, and plucked the hairs from his beard. "Wretched man that I am!" cried he, "that I should have conceived such friendship for him. The death of the others has not caused me half the pain which his will occasion me. Ah! my son," continued he, embracing the prince of the Nagäis with a tenderness that caused him deep emotion, "yield to my grief, if my arguments are not able to shake thee. I feel that the blow which takes thy life will strike my heart with deadly force. Renounce, I conjure thee, the hope of possessing my cruel daughter; thou wilt find in the world plenty of other princesses whom thou mayst gain with more ease and as much honour. Why persevere in the pursuit of an inhuman creature whom thou wilt never be able to obtain? Remain, if thou wilt, in my court; thou shalt hold the first rank after me; thou shalt have beautiful slaves; pleasures shall follow thee wherever thou goest; in a word, I will look on thee as my own son. Desist from thy pursuit of Tourandocte. Oh! let me at least have the joy of rescuing one victim from the sanguinary princess." The son of Timurtasch was deeply moved by the friendship which the king of China exhibited towards him; but he replied, "My lord, let me for pity's sake expose myself to the danger from which you seek to deter me; the greater it is, the more do I feel myself tempted to encounter it. I must avow that even the cruelty of the princess stimulates my love. I feel an inward pleasure in the thought that I am the happy mortal who is to triumph over this proud beauty. For Heaven's sake, your majesty," pursued he, "cease to oppose a design which my glory, my repose, my life even render it necessary for me to prosecute; for, truly, I cannot live unless I obtain Tourandocte." Altoun-Khan, perceiving that Khalaf was not to be moved, was overwhelmed with affliction. "Ah! rash youth," said he, "thy death-warrant is sealed, since thou art still determined to persist in demanding my daughter. Heaven is witness that I have done all in my power to inspire thee with rational thoughts. Thou rejectest my counsel, and lovest rather to perish than follow it; let us say no more; thou wilt receive the reward of thy mad constancy. I consent to thy undertaking to answer the questions of Tourandocte, but I must first pay thee the honour which I am accustomed to bestow upon princes who seek my alliance." At these words he called the chief of his first band of eunuchs; he ordered him to conduct Khalaf into the princes' palace, and to assign him two hundred eunuchs to wait upon him. The prince of the Nagäis had scarcely entered the palace to which the eunuch conducted him, before the principal mandarins came to salute him, which they did in the following manner: they placed themselves on their knees before him, bowed their heads to the ground, saying one after the other, "Prince, the perpetual servant of your illustrious race comes to make his obeisance to you." They then all made him presents and retired. The king, who felt the greatest friendship for the son of Timurtasch, and pitied him, sent for the most learned professor of the royal college, and said to him, "There is a new prince, who has come to my court to demand the hand of my daughter. I have spared no pains to induce him to renounce his intention, but without success. I wish thee to exert thine eloquence in endeavouring to make him listen to reason. It is for this I have sent for thee." The professor obeyed. He went to Khalaf and entered into a long conversation with him; after which he returned to Altoun-Khan, and said, "My lord, it is impossible to dissuade this young prince; he will absolutely deserve the princess or die. When I saw the futility of attempting to conquer his resolution, I had the curiosity to try and ascertain whether his obstinacy did not proceed from some other cause than his love. I interrogated him upon several different subjects, and I found him so well informed that I was surprised at his learning. He is a Moslem, and appears to me perfectly instructed in all that concerns his religion; in fact, to confess the truth to your majesty, I believe if any prince is capable of replying to the questions of the princess it is he." "O wise man," cried the king, "I am overjoyed at thy report. Heaven grant that he may become my son-in-law. From the moment he appeared before me I felt an affection for him; may he be more fortunate than the others who came to this city only to seek a grave." After prayers and sacrifices, the Chinese monarch sent his calao to the prince of the Nagäis with notice that he was to hold himself in readiness to reply to the princess's questions on the next day, and to tell him that the proper officers would come at the right time to conduct him to the divan; and that the persons who were to compose the assembly had already received orders to attend. Notwithstanding his inflexible determination to persevere in this adventure, Khalaf did not pass a quiet night; if at one time he dared to trust to his genius, and promise himself success, at another, losing confidence, he represented to himself the shame he should endure if his replies did not please the divan; at another time he thought of Elmaze and Timurtasch. "Alas!" said he, "if I die, what will become of my father and mother?" Day surprised him occupied with these conflicting thoughts. Presently he heard the ringing of bells and beating of drums. He concluded that this was to call to the council all those who were ordered to attend. Then raising his thoughts to Mahomet, "O great prophet," said he, "you behold my difficulties and know my doubts. Inspire me, and reveal to me whether I must go to the divan, or must confess to the king that the danger terrifies me!" He had scarcely pronounced these words, before he felt all his fears vanish and his confidence return. He rose and dressed himself in a caftan, and mantle of red silk worked with gold flowers, which Altoun-Khan had sent him, with stockings and slippers of blue silk. When he had finished dressing, six mandarins, booted and dressed in very wide robes of crimson, entered his apartment, and after having saluted him in the same manner as on the previous day, informed him that they came from the king to lead him to the divan. He immediately rose and accompanied them; they traversed a court between a double file of soldiers, and when they arrived in the first council-chamber found more than a thousand singers and players upon instruments, who performing in concert produced a wonderful noise. From thence they advanced into the hall, where the council was sitting, and which communicated with the interior palace. All the persons who were to assist at this assembly were already seated under canopies of different colours arranged round the hall. The mandarins of the highest rank were on one side, the calao with the professors of the college on the other, and several doctors, renowned for their erudition, occupied other seats. In the middle were placed two thrones of gold raised upon triangular pedestals. As soon as the prince of the Nagäis appeared, the noble and learned assembly saluted him with gestures of great respect, but without speaking a word; for every body, being in expectation of the king's arrival, preserved the strictest silence. The sun was upon the point of rising. As soon as the first rays of that brilliant luminary were perceived, two eunuchs drew aside the curtains which hung before the door of the inner palace, and immediately the king appeared, accompanied by the princess Tourandocte, who wore a long robe of silk and gold tissue, whilst her face was concealed by a veil of the same material. When the king and princess had taken their seats upon their thrones, which they ascended by five steps of silver, two young girls of perfect beauty approached and stationed themselves, one on the side of the king and the other near the princess. They were slaves of the harem of Altoun-Khan; their faces and necks were exposed; they wore large pearls in their ears; and they stood each with pen and paper, ready to transcribe what the king or the princess might desire. All this time the whole assembly, who had risen upon the entrance of Altoun-Khan, stood up with great gravity and their eyes half closed. Khalaf alone looked about him, or rather looked only at the princess, whose majestic demeanour filled him with admiration. When the powerful monarch of China had ordered the mandarins and doctors to be seated, one of the six nobles who had conducted Khalaf, and who stood with him at fifteen cubits' distance from the two thrones, kneeled down and read a petition, which contained the demand of the stranger prince for the hand of the princess Tourandocte. He then rose and told Khalaf to make three salutations to the king. The prince of the Nagäis acquitted himself with so much grace, that Altoun-Khan could not refrain from smiling and expressing the pleasure he experienced in seeing him. The calao then rose from his place and read with a loud voice the fatal edict, which condemned to death all the rash lovers who should fail to reply satisfactorily to the questions of Tourandocte. Then addressing Khalaf, "Prince," said he, "you have just heard the conditions upon which alone the princess's hand is to be obtained. If the sense of danger makes any impression upon you, there is still time to retire." "No, no!" said the prince; "the prize to be carried off is too precious to be lost by cowardice." The king, seeing Khalaf ready to reply to the questions of Tourandocte, turned towards the princess and said, "My daughter, it is for you to speak; propose to this young prince the questions which you have prepared; and may all the spirits to whom sacrifices were offered yesterday grant that he may penetrate the meaning of your words." Tourandocte thereupon said, "I take the prophet Jacmouny to witness, that I behold with sorrow the death of so many princes; but why do they persist in desiring to wed me? why will they not leave me to live in peace without making attempts on my liberty? Know then, rash young man," added she, addressing Khalaf, "that you cannot reproach me if you suffer a cruel death; you have the examples of your rivals before your eyes; you alone are the cause of your own destruction; I do not oblige you to come and ask my hand." "Lovely princess," replied the prince of the Nagäis, "I am fully alive to all that has been said upon this subject; propound, if you please, your questions, and I will endeavour to unravel their meaning." "Well then," said Tourandocte, "tell me what creature is that which belongs to every land, is a friend to the whole world, and will not brook an equal?" "Madam," replied Khalaf, "it is the sun." "He is right," exclaimed all the doctors, "it is the sun." "What is that mother," resumed the princess, "who, after having brought her children into the world, devours them when they are grown up?" "It is the sea," replied the prince of the Nagäis; "because the rivers, which draw their sources from the sea, discharge themselves into it again." Tourandocte, seeing that the prince gave correct replies to her questions, was so vexed that she resolved to spare no effort to destroy him. Exerting all her ingenuity, she next asked, "What tree is that whose leaves are white on one side and black on the other?" She was not satisfied with proposing the riddle alone; the malignant princess, in order to dazzle and confuse him, raised her veil at the same moment, and allowed the assembly to see all the beauty of her countenance, the haughty charms of which were only enhanced by the violence of her emotions. Her head was adorned with natural flowers arranged with infinite art, and her eyes shone more brilliantly than the stars. She was as lovely as the sun in all his splendour, when he emerges from a thick cloud. The son of Timurtasch, at the sight of this incomparable princess, remained mute and motionless; so much so, that all the divan, who were deeply interested in him, were seized with terror; the king himself grew pale, and thought that the prince was lost for ever. But Khalaf, recovering from the surprise that the beauty of Tourandocte had caused him, quickly reassured the assembly by resuming, "Charming princess, I pray you pardon me if I remained for some moments speechless; I could not behold so much loveliness without being disturbed. Have the goodness to repeat the question, for I no longer remember it; your charms have made me forget every thing." "I asked you," said Tourandocte, "what tree is that whose leaves are white on one side and black on the other?" "That tree," replied Khalaf, "is the year, which is composed of days and nights." This reply was again applauded in the divan. The mandarins and the doctors said that it was correct, and bestowed a thousand praises on the young prince. Altoun-Khan said to Tourandocte, "Come, my daughter, confess thyself vanquished, and consent to espouse thy conqueror; the others were not able to reply to even one of thy questions, and this one, thou seest, has answered them all." "He has _not_ gained the victory," angrily retorted the princess, replacing her veil to conceal her confusion and the tears she was not able to repress; "I have others to propose to him. But I will defer them till to-morrow." "No," replied the king, "I will certainly not permit you to propose questions without end: all that I can allow you is to ask him one more, and that immediately." The princess objected, saying that she had only prepared those which had just been answered, and entreated the king, her father, for permission to interrogate the prince on the following day. "I will certainly not grant it," cried the monarch of China, in a rage; "you are only endeavouring to perplex this young prince, while I am eagerly grasping at the prospect of escaping from the frightful oath I had the imprudence to make. Ah! cruel one, you breathe nothing but blood, and the death of your lovers is a pleasant sight to you. The queen, your mother, touched by the first misfortunes your cruelty caused, died of grief at having brought into the world so barbarous a child; and I, you know well, am plunged into a state of profound melancholy, which nothing can dissipate, whilst I behold the fatal results of the love I entertained for you; but, thanks to the sun, and the moon, and the spirits who preside in the heavens, and by whom my sacrifices have been regarded with a propitious eye, no more of those horrible executions which have rendered my name execrable shall be committed in my palace. Since this prince has answered your questions satisfactorily, I ask all this assembly if it is not right that you should become his wife?" The mandarins and the doctors expressed their assent in murmurs, and the calao took upon himself to speak. "My lord," said he, addressing the king, "your majesty is no longer bound by the oath you made, to execute your severe edict; it is for the princess to fulfil her engagement. She promised her hand to him who should answer her questions correctly; a prince has answered them, to the satisfaction of the whole divan; she must keep her promise, or we cannot doubt that the spirits who preside over the punishment of perjurers will quickly take vengeance upon her." Tourandocte kept silence during the delivery of this speech; she sat with her head on her knees, and appeared buried in deep affliction. Khalaf, perceiving this, prostrated himself before Altoun-Khan, and said, "Great king, whose justice and goodness have raised the vast empire of China to such prosperity, I beg of your majesty to grant me a favour. I see that the princess is in despair at my having been so fortunate as to reply to her questions; doubtless she would rather it had so happened that I should have deserved death. Since she exhibits so strong an aversion to me, that, in spite of her promise, she refuses to become my wife, I will renounce my right to her, on condition that she, on her part, replies correctly to a question which I shall propose." The whole assembly was surprised at this speech. "Is this young prince mad," they whispered one to another, "to risk the loss of that for which he perilled his life? Does he imagine he can propose a question that will be too difficult for Tourandocte to solve? He must have lost his senses." Altoun-Khan was also amazed at the request which Khalaf had the temerity to make. "Prince," said he, "have you reflected upon the words which have just escaped your lips?" "Yes, my lord," replied the prince of the Nagäis, "and I implore you to grant me this favour." "I grant it," returned the king; "but, whatever be the result, I declare that I am no longer bound by the oath I made, and that, henceforth, I will not cause another prince to be put to death." "Divine Tourandocte," resumed the son of Timurtasch, addressing the princess, "you have heard what I said. Although the decision of this learned assembly has awarded to me the prize of your hand, although you are mine, I will give you back your liberty, I will yield up possession of you, I will despoil myself of a treasure precious to me above all things, provided you reply at once to a question I shall ask; but, on your part, swear that if you cannot, you will consent willingly to complete my happiness and crown my love." "Yes, prince," replied Tourandocte, "I accept the conditions, and I take this assembly as witnesses of my oath." All the divan awaited, in breathless suspense, the question that Khalaf was to propose to the princess, and there was not one who did not blame the young prince for exposing himself to the risk of losing the daughter of Altoun-Khan; they were all amazed at his temerity. "Lovely princess," said Khalaf, "what is the name of that prince who, after suffering a thousand hardships, and being reduced even to beg his bread, finds himself, at this moment, overwhelmed with glory and joy?" "It is impossible," said Tourandocte, "for me to reply to that question on the spot, but I promise that to-morrow I will tell you the name of that prince." "Madam," cried Khalaf, "I asked no time for consideration, and it is not right to grant you any; still, I will grant you your wish; I hope, after that, you will look more favourably on me, and not oppose any further difficulty to your becoming my bride." "She must make up her mind to that," said Altoun-Khan, "if she cannot reply to the question proposed. Let her not think by falling ill, or pretending to do so, that she will thereby escape. Even if my rash oath should not bind me to grant him her hand, and she were not his according to the tenor of the edict, I would rather let her die, than send this young prince away. Where would it be possible for her to meet with one more perfectly worthy of her?" With these words, he rose and dismissed the assembly. He re-entered the inner palace with the princess, who retired to her own apartments. As soon as the king had left the divan, all the mandarins and doctors complimented Khalaf upon his wit and understanding. "I admire," said one, "your ready and easy conception." "No!" said another, "there is not a bachelor licentiate, or doctor even, of greater penetration than you. Not one of all the princes who has presented themselves hitherto, in the least degree approached your merit, and we feel the most heartfelt joy at your success." The prince of the Nagäis had no light task to perform in thanking all those who pressed round him to congratulate him. At length, the six mandarins who had conducted him to the council-chamber, led him back to the same palace whence they had brought him, whilst the others, together with the learned doctors retired, not without anxiety about the answer which the daughter of Altoun-Khan would return to the question. The princess Tourandocte regained her palace, followed by the two young slaves who enjoyed her confidence. No sooner had she entered into her apartment, than she tore off her veil, and throwing herself upon a couch, gave free vent to the grief and rage which agitated her; shame and sorrow were depicted on her countenance; her eyes already bedimmed with tears, overflowed afresh; she tore off the flowers that adorned her head, and allowed her hair to fall about her in confusion. Her two favourite slaves attempted to console her, but she only said bitterly, "Leave me, both of you, cease your useless attentions. I will listen to nothing but my despair; leave me alone to pour forth my tears and lamentations. Ah! how great will be my confusion to-morrow, when I shall be forced to acknowledge before the whole council, and the wisest doctors of China, that I cannot solve the question. Is that, they will say, the transcendent princess who prides herself upon knowing every thing, and to whom the solution of the most difficult enigma presented no difficulty?" "Alas!" continued she, "they all take an interest in this young prince. I noticed them grow pale with anxiety when he appeared embarrassed. I saw their faces beaming with joy when he penetrated the meaning of my questions. I shall have the bitter mortification of seeing them again rejoice at my confusion, when I shall have to confess myself conquered. How great will be their delight when I make the degrading avowal, and what agony must I endure in making it." "My princess," said one of her slaves, "instead of afflicting yourself beforehand, instead of picturing to yourself the shame you fear to suffer to-morrow, would it not be better to think of some means of preventing it? Is the question the prince has proposed so difficult, that you cannot answer it? with the genius and penetration you possess, can you not accomplish it?" "No," said Tourandocte, "it is impossible. He asks me to name the prince who, after suffering a thousand hardships, and being reduced to beg his bread, is, at this moment, overwhelmed with joy and glory? I feel assured that he is himself that prince, but not knowing him, I cannot tell his name." "Still, madam," rejoined the same slave, "you have promised to name that prince to-morrow; when you made that promise, you hoped, doubtless, to be able to fulfil it." "I had no hope," replied the princess, "and I only demanded time to die of grief, rather than be obliged to acknowledge my shame, and marry the prince." "The resolution is a violent one," said the other favourite slave. "I know well that no man is worthy of you, but you must allow that this prince possesses singular merits; his beauty, his noble bearing, and his ready wit ought to plead in his favour." "I grant it all," interrupted the princess. "If there is any prince in the world who is worthy of my regards, it is he. Indeed, I will not deny it, that I grieved for him, before I put my questions to him; I sighed when I beheld him, and--what has never happened till to-day--I almost hoped he would reply to my questions correctly. It is true that, at the same moment, I blushed at my weakness, but my pride got the better of me, and the apt answers he made excited my abhorrence towards him; all the commendations which the doctors bestowed on him so deeply mortified me, that I then felt, and still feel, the most bitter hatred against him. O unhappy Tourandocte, lay thee down and die of vexation and grief, at having found a man, and he a youth, who has been able to load thee with disgrace, and compel thee to become his wife." At these words she redoubled her tears, and in the transport of her rage spared neither her hair nor her clothes. She raised her hands more than once towards her cheeks to tear them, and punish them as the prime authors of the disgrace she had endured; but her slaves, who were watching her frenzy, prevented her. They tried, however, in vain to console her; they could not calm the fury of her agitation. Whilst she was in this fearful state of excitement, the prince of the Nagäis, charmed with the result, and overwhelmed with joy, delivered himself up to the hope of bearing off his bride the next day. The king, having returned from the council-chamber, sent for Khalaf to talk over in private the events which had taken place at the divan. The prince of the Nagäis hastened to obey the orders of the monarch, who, after embracing him with great tenderness, said, "Ah! my son, release me from the anxiety I am suffering. I fear lest my daughter should be able to answer the question you have proposed. Why have you risked the danger of losing the object of your love?" "Let not your majesty be under the least apprehension," replied Khalaf; "it is impossible that the princess can tell me who the prince is whose name I have asked, for I am that prince, and no one in your court knows me." "This gives me fresh hope," cried the king in a transport of joy; "I confess I was most anxious about you. Tourandocte is very shrewd; the subtlety of her wit made me tremble for you; but, thank Heaven, you dispel my doubts. However great her facility of penetrating the sense of enigmas, she cannot guess your name. I can no longer accuse you of temerity; and I see what appeared to me a lack of prudence, is an ingenious device you have formed to remove every pretext for my daughter's refusal." Altoun-Khan, after laughing with Khalaf at the question proposed to the princess, prepared to enjoy the diversion of the chase. He dressed himself in a light and close-fitting caftan, and enclosed his beard in a bag of black satin. He ordered the mandarins to hold themselves in readiness to accompany him, and commanded a hunting-dress to be given to the prince of the Nagäis. They partook of a slight repast, and then quitted the palace. The mandarins, in open palanquins of ivory inlaid with gold, headed the procession, each carried by six men; two men armed with whips of cord marched before each palanquin, and two others followed with tablets of silver, upon which were written in large characters all the mandarin's titles. The king and Khalaf, in an open litter of red sandalwood, carried by twenty military officers, on whose dresses were embroidered in silver the monarch's monogram and badges,--the latter consisting of several figures of animals,--appeared next. After the mandarins, two generals of Altoun-Khan's army marched on either side of the litter, carrying large fans or umbrellas to ward off the heat, and three thousand eunuchs on foot completed the cortége. When they arrived at the place where the hunters awaited the king with the falcons, the sport began by flying hawks at quails; this diversion lasted till sunset, when the king and the prince, and the persons of their suites, returned to the palace in the same order in which they had left. They found in the court several pavilions of silk of different colours, a great number of small tables, beautifully polished and covered with all sorts of viands ready cut up. As soon as the king had taken his seat, Khalaf and the mandarins sat down, each at a little separate table, near which stood another, which served as a buffet. They all began by drinking several bumpers of rice wine before touching the viands; they then proceeded to eat without drinking any more. The banquet ended, the king, Altoun-Khan, led the prince of the Nagäis into a large hall, brilliantly illuminated, and fitted up with seats arranged for seeing some spectacle, and they were followed by all the mandarins. The king appointed each his place, and made Khalaf sit near him, upon a large ebony throne, inlaid with gold tracery. As soon as the company had taken their places, singers and musicians entered, who commenced an agreeable concert. Altoun-Khan was delighted with it. Infatuated with the Chinese music, he asked the son of Timurtasch, from time to time, what he thought of it, and the young prince, out of politeness, gave it the highest rank of all the music in the world. The concert finished, the singers and musicians retired, to make room for an artificial elephant, which having advanced by secret springs into the middle of the hall, vomited forth six vaulters, who began by making some perilous leaps. They were attired in very thin dresses; they had on only drawers of Indian cloth, caps of brocade, and light shoes. After they had exhibited their agility and suppleness by a thousand extraordinary performances, they re-entered the elephant, which went away as it came. Next, there appeared players, who performed, impromptu, a piece, the subject of which the king chose. When all these diversions were finished, and the night was far advanced, Altoun-Khan and Khalaf rose, to retire to their apartments, and the mandarins followed their example. The young prince of the Nagäis, conducted by eunuchs bearing wax candles in gold candelabra, was preparing to taste the sweets of repose as well as his impatience to return to the divan would permit him, when on entering his chamber, he found a young lady, dressed in a robe of red brocade with silver flowers, and adorned with rubies and emeralds; she wore a head-dress of rose-coloured silk, ornamented with pearls and bound by a very light silver border, which only covered the top of her head, and allowed her beautiful hair to escape, which hung down in ringlets, adorned with a few artificial flowers; as to her figure and face it was impossible to see any more beautiful and perfect except that of the princess of China. The son of Timurtasch was much surprised at meeting a lady alone, and so beautiful, at midnight in his room. He could not have looked upon her with indifference, had he not seen Tourandocte; but as the lover of that princess he had no eyes for any other. As soon as the lady perceived Khalaf, she rose from the sofa where she was seated, and upon which she had laid her veil, and after making a low inclination of her head, "Prince," said she, "I doubt not that you are surprised to find a woman here; for you cannot be ignorant that it is rigorously forbidden for men and women who inhabit the harem, to have any communication together; but the importance of the matter that I have to communicate to you, has made me disregard all danger. I have had dexterity and good fortune enough to overcome all the obstacles which opposed my design. I have gained the eunuchs who wait upon you. It now only remains for me to tell you what brought me here." Khalaf felt interested; he could not doubt but that the lady who had taken so perilous a step, had something to communicate worthy his attention; he begged her to resume her seat on the sofa; they both sat down; and the lady then continued in these terms: "My lord, I believe I ought to begin by informing you that I am the daughter of a khan, one of the tributaries of Altoun-Khan. Some years ago, my father was bold enough to refuse to pay the usual tribute, and, relying too much upon his experience in the art of war, as well as upon the valour of his troops, prepared to defend himself in case he were attacked. What he expected happened. The king of China irritated by his audacity, sent the most experienced of his generals with a powerful army against him. My father, though considerably weaker in numbers, went out to meet him. After a sanguinary battle, which was fought on the banks of a river, the Chinese general remained victorious. My father, pierced with a thousand wounds, died during the battle, but before his death, he ordered all his wives and children to be thrown into the river, to preserve them from slavery. Those who were charged with the generous, though inhuman order, executed it; they threw me, together with my mother, sisters, and two brothers, whose tender age had kept them with us, into the river. The Chinese general arrived at the spot at the very moment when they had cast us in, and when we were about to finish our miserable existence. This mournful and horrible sight excited his compassion; he promised a reward to any of the soldiers who should save any of the vanquished khan's family. Several Chinese horsemen, in spite of the rapidity of the stream, dashed in, and urged their horses wherever they saw our dying bodies floating. They recovered a few, but their assistance was only of use to me. I still breathed when they brought me to shore. The general took great pains for my recovery, as though the glory acquired by my captivity would bestow a fresh lustre on his victory; he brought me to this city, and presented me to the king, after giving an account of his mission. Altoun-Khan placed me with his daughter the princess, who is two or three years younger than I am. "Although still a child, I could not help reflecting that I had become a slave, and that I ought to have sentiments conformable to my situation. I therefore studied the disposition of Tourandocte, and strove to please her, and I succeeded so well by my compliance with her wishes and my attentions, that I gained her friendship. From that time I have shared her confidence with a young person of illustrious birth, whom the misfortunes of her family have reduced to slavery. "Pardon, my lord," she continued, "this narrative which does not bear any relation to the subject that has brought me here. I thought it but right to apprize you that I am of noble blood, that you might place more reliance in me; for the important communication I have to make is such, that an ordinary slave might induce you to give but little credence to what she had to say; and I know not, that even I, though the daughter of a khan, shall be able to influence you: would a prince enamoured of Tourandocte give credit to what I am about to say of her?" "Princess," replied the son of Timurtasch, interrupting her, "keep me no longer in suspense, tell me, I pray you, at once what you have to say concerning the princess of China." "My lord," replied the lady, "Tourandocte, the barbarous Tourandocte has formed a plot to assassinate you!" At these words Khalaf, falling back on the sofa, lay for a moment in a state of horror and amazement. The slave-princess, who had foreseen the astonishment of the young prince, said, "I am not surprised that you should thus receive this frightful announcement, and I was right when I doubted that you would believe it." "Merciful Heaven," cried Khalaf, when he recovered from his stupefaction, "did I hear aright? Is it possible that the princess of China could be guilty of such an atrocious attempt? How could she conceive so base a project?" "Prince," replied the lady, "I will explain to you how she came to take this horrible resolution. When she left the divan this morning, where I had been stationed behind her throne, I saw that she was mortally enraged at what had taken place; she returned into her apartments writhing under the most bitter feelings of mortification and fury; she pondered over the question you asked her for a long time, and not being able to find a suitable answer, she abandoned herself to despair. While she was in the bath, I spared no means, in which I was seconded by the other favourite slave, to calm the violence of her transports; we tried all in our power to inspire her with sentiments favourable to you; we extolled your person and your talents; we represented to her, that she ought to determine to bestow her hand upon you; we pointed out the unseemliness of such immoderate grief; but she imposed silence upon us, with a torrent of injurious words. The most agreeable and handsome make no more impression upon her than the ugliest and most deformed. 'They are all,' said she, 'objects of my contempt, and for whom I shall always entertain the deepest aversion. As regards him who has presented himself last, I entertain a greater hatred towards him than towards the others, and if I cannot rid myself of him by any other means I will have him assassinated.' "I opposed this detestable design," continued the slave-princess, "and laid before her the terrible consequences of such a deed. I represented to her the injury she would inflict upon herself, the despair she would occasion the king, and the just horror that future ages would entertain for her memory. "The other favourite slave supported with all her eloquence the arguments I adduced, but all our persuasions were of no avail; we could not turn her from her purpose. She has entrusted her faithful eunuchs with orders to take your life to-morrow morning as you leave your palace to repair to the divan." "O inhuman princess, perfidious Tourandocte," cried the prince of the Nagäis, "is it thus you prepare to crown the affection of the unhappy son of Timurtasch? Has Khalaf indeed appeared so hateful to you, that you would rather rid yourself of him by a crime that will dishonour you, than unite your destiny with his? Great Heaven! how chequered with strange events is my life! At one moment I seem to enjoy happiness that the greatest might envy, at another I am plunged into a whirlpool of misery." "My lord," said the slave-princess, "if Heaven ordains that you should suffer misfortunes, it does not will that you should sink beneath their weight, since it warns you of the dangers that threaten you. Yes, prince, it is Heaven that has doubtless inspired me with the thought of saving you, for I come not only to point out the snare laid for your life, I come also to furnish you with means to escape. By the assistance of some eunuchs who are devoted to me, I have gained over the soldiers of the guard, who will facilitate your flight from the serail. As they will not fail to make a searching investigation, when they know of your departure, and discover that I am the author of it, I am resolved to fly with you, and escape from this court, where I have more than one cause for discontent; my state of bondage makes me hate it, and you make it still more odious to me. "Let us waste no time; come, and let to-morrow's sun, when he begins his course, find us far, far from Pekin. "In a certain spot in the town," continued she, "horses await us; let us fly, and reach if possible the territory of the tribe of Berlas." Khalaf replied, "Beautiful princess, I render you a thousand thanks for your wish to save me from the danger with which I am encompassed. Oh! that I could, to prove my gratitude, deliver you from your slavery, and conduct you in safety to the horde of the khan of Berlas your relation. With what pleasure would I place you in his hands! I should thereby repay some of the obligations I lie under to him. But I ask you, princess, ought I thus to steal away from Altoun-Khan? What would he think of me? He would believe that I came to his court for the sole purpose of carrying you off, and at the very time when I should be flying, only that I might save his daughter from perpetrating a fearful crime, he would be accusing me of violating the laws of hospitality. Ah! must I confess it, cruel though the princess of China be, I could never find in my foolish heart to hate her? Whatever misfortune may be in store for me, I cannot consent to so ignominious a flight. I acknowledge that charms like yours would amply repay your liberator, and that my days with you might pass in the greatest bliss, but I am not born to be happy, my destiny is to love Tourandocte; despite the aversion she feels towards me, I should wear out my days in endless sorrow, were they spent away from her." "Well then, ingrate, remain," cried the lady passionately, interrupting him, "and let the spot in which thy happiness is concentrated be sprinkled with thy blood." Saying these words, she replaced her veil, and quitted the apartment. The young prince, after the lady had retired, remained upon the sofa in a state of bewilderment. "Must I believe," said he, "what I have just heard? Can she carry her cruelty thus far? Alas! I dare not doubt it, for the slave-princess's expressions of horror at Tourandocte's plot were so natural--the risks she ran in coming herself to warn me of it so great, and the feelings she displayed so unquestionable,--that all are pledges of the truthfulness of her words. Ah! cruel daughter of the best of kings, is it thus that you abuse the gifts with which Heaven has endowed you? O Heaven! how couldst thou confer on this barbarous princess so much beauty, or why adorn so inhuman a soul with so many charms?" Instead of seeking a few hours' sleep, he passed the night, distracted with the most painful reflections. At length day appeared, the ringing of the bells and beating of drums was again heard, and shortly after six mandarins arrived to conduct him to the council-chamber, as on the preceding day. He traversed the court where the soldiers were arranged in two files: he expected to meet his death at this spot, and that it was here the persons who had been appointed to assassinate him were posted, in order to despatch him as he passed. Far from thinking of defending himself or putting himself upon his guard, he walked on like a man prepared to die; he even appeared to chide the delay of his assassins. He passed through the court, however, without any attack being made upon him, and reached the first hall of the divan. "Ah! doubtless it is here," thought he, "that the sanguinary order of the princess is to be put in execution." He looked around him on all sides, and thought he saw in every one he surveyed a murderer. He nevertheless advanced and entered the hall where the council was sitting, without receiving the deadly stroke which he thought awaited him. All the doctors and mandarins were already seated under their canopies, and Altoun-Khan was momentarily expected. "What can be the design of the princess?" thought he. "Can she wish to be an eye-witness of my death, and does she desire to have me assassinated before the eyes of her father? Can the king be an accomplice in the deed? What am I to think? Can he have changed his mind, and issued the order for my death?" Whilst his thoughts were occupied with these doubts, the door of the inner palace opened, and the king, accompanied by Tourandocte, entered the hall. They took their seats upon their thrones, and the prince of the Nagäis stood before them, at the same distance as on the day before. When the calao saw the king seated, he rose, and demanded of the young prince whether he remembered having promised to renounce the hand of the princess if she answered the question which he had proposed. Khalaf replied that he did, and again declared that in that event, he would renounce all claim to the honour of being the king's son-in-law. The calao then addressed Tourandocte, and said, "And you, great princess, you are aware of the oath that binds you, and of the penalty to which you are subjected if you do not this day declare the name of the prince, which you are required to give." The king, persuaded that she could not reply to the question of Khalaf, said to her, "My daughter, you have had ample time to consider the question which was proposed to you; but if you had a whole year to think of it, I believe that in spite of your sagacity you would be obliged, at the end of it, to acknowledge that it is something which even you could not reveal. So, as you cannot guess, yield with good grace to the love of this young prince, and satisfy the wish I feel that he should be your husband. He is worthy of being so, and of reigning with you, after my death, over the people of this mighty empire." "My lord," replied Tourandocte, "why do you think that I shall not be able to reply to the question of this prince? It is not so difficult as you imagine. I suffered the shame of a defeat yesterday, but to-day I look forward to the honour of a victory. I will confound this rash young man who has entertained so mean an opinion of my talents. Let him put the question, and I will answer it." "Madam," thereupon said the prince of the Nagäis, "I ask, what is the name of that prince who, after suffering a thousand hardships, and being reduced to beg his bread, finds himself at this moment covered with glory, and overwhelmed with joy?" "This prince," replied Tourandocte, "is named Khalaf, and he is the son of Timurtasch." When Khalaf heard his name he changed colour, a dark mist seemed to cover his eyes, and he fell senseless to the ground. The king and all the mandarins, judging from this that Tourandocte had answered correctly, and had given the prince's real name, grew pale, and sat in great consternation. After Khalaf had recovered from his swoon, through the attentions of the mandarins and the king himself, who had quitted his throne to come to his assistance, he thus addressed Tourandocte: "Beautiful princess, you are mistaken if you think you have given a fitting answer to my question; the son of Timurtasch is not covered with glory, and overwhelmed with joy; he is rather covered with shame, and overwhelmed with grief." "I agree with you," replied the princess, "that at this moment you are not overwhelmed with glory and joy, but you were so when you proposed this question; so, prince, instead of having recourse to vain quibbles, confess honestly that you have lost your right to Tourandocte. I therefore can, if I choose, refuse you my hand, and abandon you to the regret of having lost your prize; nevertheless, I will acknowledge to you, and declare here publicly, that I entertain different feelings towards you to what I did. The friendship my father has conceived for you, and your own merit, have determined me to take you for my husband." At these words all etiquette was for a moment forgotten; the council-chamber resounded with shouts of joy. The mandarins and doctors applauded the words of Tourandocte. The king approached her, and kissing her, said, "My child, you could not have formed a decision more agreeable to me; by this act you will efface the bad impression you have made upon the minds of my people, and you confer upon your father a joy to which he has long been a stranger, and which hitherto he had hoped for in vain. Yes, that aversion you entertained for marriage, that aversion so contrary to nature, robbed me of the sweet hope of seeing princes of my own blood spring from you. Happily, that aversion has ceased, and what crowns my wishes is, that you have extinguished it in favour of a young hero who is dear to me. But tell us," added he, "how you have been able to guess the name of a prince who was unknown to you." "My lord," replied Tourandocte, "it was not by enchantment that I learned it; it was by perfectly natural means. One of my slaves sought the prince Khalaf, and had subtlety enough to rob him of his secret, and I hope he will forgive me for taking advantage of this treachery, since I have made no worse use of it." "Ah! charming Tourandocte," hereupon cried the prince of the Nagäis, "is it possible that you entertain such favourable sentiments towards me? From what a frightful abyss do you draw me, to raise me to the height of bliss! Alas, how unjust was I! whilst you were preparing such a glorious fate for me I thought you guilty of the blackest of all treachery. Deceived by a horrible fable which darkened my reason, I repaid your good intentions with injurious doubts. Oh! what impatience do I feel to expiate my unjust suspicions at your feet." Altoun-Khan ordered the preparations for the marriage of Khalaf and Tourandocte to be set on foot, and whilst they were engaged about them he sent ambassadors to the tribe of Berlas, to inform the khan of the Nagäis of all that had taken place in China, and to beg him to come with the princess his wife. The preparations being concluded, the marriage was celebrated with all the pomp and magnificence which belonged to the high birth of the happy pair. Khalaf was raised to the rank of the highest subject, and the king himself made a public declaration that, to mark his sense of the esteem and consideration he entertained for his son-in-law, he should allow him to dispense with the customary obeisances to his bride. During a whole month nothing was seen at the court but feasting and pageants, and in the city nothing but gaiety and rejoicings. The possession of Tourandocte did not diminish the love Khalaf entertained for her, and the princess, who had hitherto regarded men with so much contempt, could not but love so perfect a prince. Some time after their marriage the ambassadors whom Altoun-Khan had sent to the country of Berlas returned, bringing with them not only the father and mother of the king's son-in-law, but also prince Almguer, who, to pay honour to Elmaze and Timurtasch, insisted on accompanying them, with the most distinguished of his nobles, and conducting them to Pekin. The young prince of the Nagäis, apprized of their arrival, immediately rode out to meet them. He found them nearly at the gate of the palace. The joy he felt on seeing his father and mother, and their transports on seeing him, can be scarcely conceived, much less described. They all three embraced each other over and over again, and the tears they shed drew forth corresponding signs of emotion from the Chinese and Tartars who were present. After these tender embraces, Khalaf saluted the khan of Berlas; he expressed to him how deeply he felt his kindness, and more especially his condescension in himself accompanying his parents to the court of China; the prince Almguer replied that, being ignorant of the rank of Timurtasch and Elmaze, he had not shown towards them the respect that was due to them, and thus to atone for any neglect they might have experienced, he thought it his duty to pay them this mark of honour; the khan of the Nagäis and his wife the princess, however, paid a high tribute to the attentive kindness of the khan of Berlas; they then all entered the palace of the king, to be presented to Altoun-Khan. They found this monarch awaiting them in the first hall. He embraced them all, one after the other, and received them very graciously; he then conducted them into his cabinet, where, after expressing the pleasure he felt at seeing Timurtasch, and his sympathy in his misfortunes, he assured him that he would employ all his power to avenge him on the sultan of Carisma. This was no empty offer, for that very day he despatched orders to the governors of the provinces to march with all speed with the soldiers who were in the towns within their jurisdiction, and to take the route to lake Baljouta, which was chosen for the rendezvous of the formidable army he proposed to assemble there. For his part, the khan of Berlas, who had foreseen this war, and who wished to assist in the re-establishment of Timurtasch in his dominions, had, previous to his departure from his tribe, ordered the general of his army to be in readiness to take the field at the first summons. He now commanded him also to repair to lake Baljouta with all possible speed. During the time the officers and soldiers who were to compose the army of Altoun-Khan, and who were dispersed throughout the kingdom, were marching to assemble at the spot indicated, this king spared no pains to express his high consideration for his new guests; he appointed a separate palace to each, with a great number of eunuchs, and a guard of two thousand men. Every day some new fête was contrived for their entertainment, and the king's whole attention seemed turned towards affording them pleasure. Khalaf, although he had now every day a thousand matters to occupy his attention, did not forget his kind hostess; he remembered with gratitude the solicitude she expressed for him; he sent for her to the palace, and begged Tourandocte to receive her amongst her attendants. The hope that Timurtasch and Elmaze entertained of reascending the throne of the Nagäi-Tartars, by the assistance of the king of China, insensibly made them forget their past troubles; and when Tourandocte gave birth to a beautiful prince, they were quite overwhelmed with joy. The birth of this child, who was named the prince of China, was celebrated in all the cities of this vast empire by public rejoicings. Whilst these festivities were taking place, news was brought by couriers, sent by the officers who had orders to collect the army, that all the troops of the kingdom, and those of the khan of Berlas, had assembled at lake Baljouta. Immediately Timurtasch, Khalaf, and Almguer set out for the camp, where they found every thing in readiness, and seven hundred thousand men ready to march; they immediately took the read to Kotan, from whence they marched to Raschar, and at length entered the dominions of the sultan of Carisma. This prince, informed of their numbers, and of the invasion of his territories, by couriers whom the governors of the frontier towns had despatched, far from being alarmed at the number of his enemies, courageously prepared to meet them. Instead even of intrenching himself, he had the boldness to take the field himself, at the head of four hundred thousand men, whom he had hastily collected. The armies met near Cogendi, where they drew up in battle array. On the side of the Chinese, Timurtasch commanded the right wing, prince Almguer the left, and Khalaf the centre. On the other side, the sultan confided the command of his right wing to the ablest of his generals, opposed the prince of Carisma to the prince of the Nagäis, and reserved the left to himself, where the elite of his cavalry were stationed. The khan of Berlas began the attack with the soldiers of his tribe, who, fighting like men who knew the eyes of their master were on them, soon turned the right wing of their enemies; the officer who commanded it, however, succeeded in reforming it almost immediately. Meanwhile the right wing, commanded by Timurtasch, was not so fortunate; the sultan broke them at the first onset, and the Chinese in disorder were on the point of taking flight, in spite of every effort of the khan of the Nagäis, when Khalaf, informed of what had taken place, confided the care of the centre to an experienced Chinese general, and rushed to the assistance of his father at the head of reinforcements. In a short time things assumed a different aspect. The left wing of the Carismians was driven back, and in turn routed; the whole of the ranks fell into disorder and were easily broken--the entire wing was put to flight. The sultan determined to conquer or die, and made incredible efforts to rally his soldiers; but Timurtasch and Khalaf gave them no time, and surrounded them on all sides, whilst prince Almguer having defeated the right wing, victory declared in favour of the Chinese. There remained but one chance of safety for the sultan of Carisma, and that was to cut his way through the ranks of his enemies, and to take refuge with some foreign prince; but he preferred not surviving his defeat to exhibiting amongst the nations his brow despoiled of the diadem; so rushing blindly into the thickest of the carnage, he fell bravely, fighting to the last, and pierced with a thousand mortal wounds, on a heap of slain. The prince of Carisma, his son, shared the same fate; two hundred thousand of their troops were killed or made prisoners, the rest seeking safety in flight. The Chinese also lost a great number of men; but if the battle had been a bloody one, it was decisive. Timurtasch, after thanking Heaven for this signal success, despatched an officer to Pekin to give an account of the battle to the king of China; he then advanced into Zagatay, and seized upon the city of Carisma. He made a proclamation in this capital that he would not touch the property, or interfere with the liberty of the Carismians; that Heaven having made him master of the throne of his enemy, he intended to take possession of it, and that henceforth, Zagatay, and the other countries which had been under the sway of the sultan, should acknowledge for their sovereign his son Khalaf. The Carismians, tired of the harsh rule of their late master, and persuaded that that of Khalaf would be milder, submitted readily, and proclaimed as sultan this young prince, with whose merits they were acquainted. Whilst the new sultan took all necessary measures to strengthen his position, Timurtasch departed with a body of Chinese troops with all possible speed to his own dominions. The Nagäi-Tartars received him like faithful subjects, and were overjoyed to see their legitimate sovereign; but he was not content with regaining his throne; he declared war against the Circassians, in order to punish them for their treachery to prince Khalaf at Jund. Instead of trying to appease him by submission, these warlike people speedily collected an army to oppose him. He attacked them, and cut them nearly all to pieces; after which he caused himself to be proclaimed king of Circassia, and then returned to Zagatay, where he found Elmaze and Tourandocte, whom Altoun-Khan had sent to Carisma in great state. Such was the end of the misfortunes of prince Khalaf, who gained by his virtues the love and esteem of the Carismians. He reigned long and peacefully over them, and never abated in his love for Tourandocte; he had a second son by her, who became afterwards the sultan of Carisma. As for the prince of China, Altoun-Khan brought him up, and chose him for his successor. Timurtasch and the princess Elmaze passed the rest of their days at Astrachan, and the khan of Berlas, after having received from them and their children all the tokens of gratitude which his generosity merited, retired to his tribe with the remainder of his troops. FOOTNOTES: [8] The Chinese mourning colour is white. IV. THE WISE DEY. Chaaban, Dey of Algiers, being dead, the Turkish janissaries bethought themselves of electing a new dey; and their intention was to place in this high station an inert, weak, and indolent man, who would allow them to be their own masters, to act as they pleased either with or without justice, and who would never inflict any punishment upon them. Passing through the streets of Algiers, they beheld Hadgi-Achmet, a man of ripe age, seated peaceably at the door of his dwelling, and carefully mending his old slippers, without taking any part either in the outcries, the conversation, or the gossiping going on all around him. Hadgi-Achmet seemed to them to be just the sort of apathetic man they were in search of, a man who would never interfere with any one, would allow them to do exactly as they pleased, and who, in short, would be but the shadow of a dey. They therefore laid hold of Hadgi-Achmet, tore him from his work, led him to the divan, and elected him dey in spite of himself. Hadgi-Achmet, thus forced to assume the reins of government, wisely examined into the duties of his new position, and set himself to fulfil them with as much assiduity and zeal as he had employed in the humbler task of mending his old slippers. He watched over the interests of the country, and over those of justice, and punished severely all misdeeds which came under his observation; having a stern, strange habit of knitting his shaggy eyebrows and flashing his brilliant eyes whenever any thing mean or wicked came under his notice. All this was very displeasing to the Turkish janissaries, and to several members of the divan. Four of these latter formed a species of plot with the design of bringing Hadgi-Achmet into contempt in the eyes of the public. Now as it was the pleasure of the dey to administer justice himself, and to enquire into the smallest matter that concerned the interests of the people, they thought to render him ridiculous, by begging him one day to judge four distinct matters, unworthy, in their opinion, to occupy the attention of a great ruler. "Hadgi-Achmet," said one of the members of the divan to the dey, "my lord, here is a culprit who can only be judged by thee, O sun of justice! He is a Tunisian merchant, who has established himself a short time since at Bab-a-Zoun street, not far from the mosque. At first he carried on his trade with tolerable honesty; but by degrees it has been shown that he is nothing better than a rogue, and has cheated a great number of his customers in the weight, the quality, and the value of his goods. Thou knowest well the law which condemns such offenders to lose an ear. This man was seized, carried before the cadi, and his rogueries being but too apparent, condemned by the cadi to lose his left ear, the right being reserved in the event of fresh misdemeanors. But when the man's turban was removed, it was discovered that his left ear was already gone. The cadi, being informed of the fact, ordered the right ear to be cut off. To execute this order, they had to pull the hand of the culprit away from his right ear, and when this had been done, it was discovered that the Tunisian's right ear was missing as well as the left. The cadi therefore sent to inform me, and I, knowing the pleasure thou takest in resolving grave and important questions, have come to submit this one to thy consummate prudence, to thy glorious justice." Hadgi-Achmet, having heard these words, knit his brows, his eyes flashed fire upon him who had just spoken, and upon all those who were present at this audience; then, turning towards the man without ears, he said, "Since thou hast always been a rogue, and that nothing could reform thee, I condemn thee all thy life long to wear neither turban nor any head-dress whatsoever to conceal the mutilation of thy ears. Purchasers, on beholding this mutilation, will shun thee if they are wise, for no one is ignorant that a merchant without ears is nothing else than a rogue." The earless Tunisian went sadly away. Being compelled to exhibit to every one and at all times the mutilation he had undergone, was a far worse punishment than the loss of five hundred ears, if he had had them. This judgment pronounced, a second member of the divan addressed the dey, "Hadgi-Achmet, our lord and master, here are two men who are quarrelling upon a question which thou only canst decide by thy profound wisdom. One of these men is the father of a beautiful and promising boy. He had this son and two others. One day, about ten years ago, Ibrahim, his neighbour, who was childless, said to him, 'Chamyl, give me thy youngest son, I will adopt him; he shall live in my house, inherit my wealth, and be happy. If thou desirest it, I will give thee in exchange for thy son my country-house at Boudjaréah; thou knowest that the north breeze is wafted there in the hottest days of summer.' "Chamyl consented to give his son, and took the house at Boudjaréah in exchange. Ormed, the son of Chamyl, went to live with Ibrahim, who soon loved him very tenderly, whilst Ormed, if only out of gratitude, soon became much attached to him. "Chamyl has now lost both his other sons, and having become rich, desires to take back Ormed, saying, 'This child is henceforth the sole hope of my race, the joy of my heart, and I wish him to become my heir.' "As for Ibrahim, he has lost nearly the half of his fortune, but he has not lost the attachment which he bears to his adopted son. On the contrary, his affection continues daily to strengthen for this child, who is endowed with the finest qualities of mind, and with a grateful and affectionate heart. "With whom dost thou decree that Ormed shall remain? with his adopted or with his real father?" Hadgi-Achmet, addressing himself to Chamyl, said, "In what does thy fortune consist?" Chamyl enumerated his possessions: a house, a ship, several country houses, and merchandise. "Can these things be removed?" asked Hadgi-Achmet. "Some of them can," replied Chamyl. "And the others," replied Hadgi-Achmet; "couldst not thou, if necessary, dispose of them, and buy others with the price?" "I could," replied Chamyl. "And the affection which thou hadst for thy sons who are dead, couldst thou transfer it, and bestow it upon other children." "Ah! that would be impossible," replied Chamyl, sorrowfully. "Then affection cannot be transferred or exchanged," said Hadgi-Achmet; "and as it forms part of the heart of man, it is of far higher consequence than material things, is it not?" "Yes, my lord," answered Chamyl. "So that," continued the dey, "we may say to a man, Sell, or give away, thy possessions; but we cannot, without absurdity, say to any one, Cease to love him whom thou lovest. For which reason, Chamyl, I condemn thee to leave with Ibrahim the child whom he loves, and whom thou voluntarily gavest him when thou hadst affection for thy two sons who are no more. As to thy possessions, thou canst bear them whithersoever thou wilt, for riches are not the heart." "But I love my son," cried Chamyl, "and I will have him, and him only, for my heir." "Ah! thou lovest thy son," rejoined Hadgi-Achmet. "It may be so, but thou gavest no proofs of it so long as thy two other children were alive. Moreover, thou hast taken a house in exchange for thy son; it is exactly the same as if thou hadst sold thy child." "I was poor," murmured Chamyl. "A lame excuse," said the dey, "for there are many more poor men than rich men, yet we do not see poor men giving up their children for any gain whatsoever." "No, no! I have not sold my son," cried Chamyl, "and my son is mine." "No, thy son is no longer thine," said the dey, "for thou art not a father after my heart, and for ten years thy son has been cared for by the man to whom thou gavest him in exchange for a house. Ibrahim has not deserved that the child whom he so tenderly loves should be taken from him, and I order him to be left with him. But since thou wilt have none other than thy son for thine heir, I decree moreover that all thy property shall revert to him after thy death, which is nothing but justice." Ibrahim then interposed. "My lord," said he to the dey, "Ormed and I have no need of the fortune of Chamyl. What Allah has left to us is sufficient for our wants. Permit Chamyl then to preserve the right of choosing for himself an heir among orphans or poor children, of whom he will now probably adopt one." "No," replied the dey, "the man who has been able to calmly select one from among his own children and barter him for a house, can never attach himself to the orphan or the unfortunate. I see no reason to alter the judgment I have pronounced. Ormed will have for his inheritance the love of his adopted father and the wealth of his real one." Chamyl withdrew, greatly incensed at this judgment, which seemed to him unjust, but which appeared highly equitable to the inhabitants of Aldgezaire. A third member of the divan then addressed Hadgi-Achmet: "All thy words bear the impress of the wisdom which illuminates thee. It suffices to hear thee, in order to know and venerate thee. If we do not abuse thy patience and thy goodness, it is because both are inexhaustible. Behold," added he, "a woman veiled, according to the law. She accuses her husband of leaving her to perish with hunger, whilst her husband here maintains that the woman tells an infamous untruth, and that he supplies her with ample means for becoming fat and strong; he adds, that the famished locusts from the desert eat not more voraciously than doth this woman, all the while remaining lean and feeble, as thou seest. The woman persists in asserting that her husband scarcely gives her sufficient to languish on like a dying tree, and she claims thy pity and thy justice." Hadgi-Achmet, having heard these words, knit his brows, his eyes flashed fire upon him who had just spoken, and upon those present at this audience. Then he said, "Mahmoud, dost thou declare that thou affordest sufficient nourishment to thy wife?" "Yes, my lord," replied Mahmoud. "And thou, woman," said the dey, "dost thou still maintain that thy husband leaves thee in want of nourishment?" "Yes, my lord," replied the poor starving woman in a faint voice, and extending her transparent hands and long thin arms, in a supplicating manner towards her master and her judge. "Art thou poor?" demanded Hadgi-Achmet of Mahmoud. "No, my lord," replied Mahmoud, "I could support several wives if I wished, but it pleases me to have only this one in my house." "Ah! thou couldst support several wives," replied the dey; "and why then dost thou not give to this one all she desires, even supposing she devoured as voraciously as the famished locusts of the desert?" "I never refuse her any thing," said Mahmoud. The poor veiled woman sighed. "Well," added Hadgi-Achmet, "since thou art both rich and generous, I will put thee in the position to repel an accusation so disgraceful to thee as that of leaving the woman whom thou hast espoused to perish of hunger. To which end I order that thy wife shall dwell in my palace in the apartments of my women and receive from thee a pension which will enable her to purchase whatever food she may desire. If at the end of a year of peace and plenty she should still possess that feeble voice and that excessive thinness which inspire my compassion, I shall regard her as inflicted with an incurable malady, and will leave her to go and die beneath thy roof; but if, on the contrary, she regains strength and voice, thou shalt be hung, not only for having violated the law which commands the husband to minister to the support of his wife, but still more for having lied before thy lord and thy judge, who knows and ever will know how to punish those who offend him." Having spoken thus, Hadgi-Achmet cast terrible looks upon all the men present at this audience. Mahmoud withdrew only too sure of being hung next year, and every one preserved a gloomy silence which lasted for several minutes. Hadgi-Achmet meanwhile resumed: "If there remains any other cause for me to judge, let it be declared." Then with less self-possession and confidence than his colleagues had displayed, a fourth member of the divan presented himself. "Here, my lord," said he, "is a strange affair which occupies us, and which thou alone canst judge. "These two men here present are twin-brothers. They have always loved each other, and have never been separated. Their father is just dead. After having deplored his loss, they said to each other: 'The roof of our father's dwelling has sheltered us to this day, let it shelter us still; and let us amicably share all that is left us by our father, arms, vestments, or jewels.' "But all at once an object presented itself which could not be divided, and for the loss of which nothing else would compensate. The article in question is a holy amulet, which it is said bestows wisdom on him who wears it upon his breast beneath his tunic. Now the two brothers equally desire wisdom, and both would fain possess the precious talisman left them by their father." Hadgi-Achmet having heard these words, knit his brows, again his eyes flashed fire, as he said to one of the twins: "Mozza, canst thou not yield to thy brother, who so earnestly desires it, the amulet left you both by your father?" "No, my lord," replied Mozza, "I could easily reconcile myself to my brother's being richer than myself, but not to his being wiser!" Hadgi-Achmet turned to the other brother: "Farzan, canst thou not yield to thy brother the amulet he wishes to possess?" "No, my lord," replied Farzan, "for wisdom not alone bestows upon its possessor the things of the earth, but those also which belong to heaven, and I desire those above all." Hadgi-Achmet then ordered Mozza to place upon his breast beneath his tunic the cherished amulet, which being done, he said to the young man: "I am charmed to find that thou preferrest wisdom to fortune, for wisdom is above all. But dost thou not see that it is wise to be at peace with thy brother, and that to obtain this peace there is no sacrifice too great? To yield to thy brother is the beginning and the end of wisdom; he who yields is ever the best and the wisest. On this ground thou wilt now, I am persuaded, yield cheerfully this amulet to thy brother." "I repeat, my lord," answered Mozza, "that I will yield every thing to my brother, slaves, diamonds, house--my entire fortune; but I will never willingly give up this sacred amulet: it is the only heritage I covet." "Ah!" said Hadgi-Achmet, "thou hast not changed thy mind then! well, give me thy father's amulet." Mozza reluctantly handed the precious talisman to the dey. "Farzan," said the dey, "place this amulet upon thy breast, and beneath thy tunic." Farzan obeyed. He had no sooner placed the amulet upon his breast than he felt so lively a joy that he would have embraced his brother had he dared, and his eyes glistened with pleasure. "Ah!" said Hadgi-Achmet, addressing himself to Farzan, "I perceive that this amulet has great power over thee. Thy heart is opened to wisdom, and thou wilt renounce foolish quarrels, wilt thou not, and yield to thy brother the talisman which he so much desires, and of which he has perhaps greater need than thou?" "I!" cried Farzan, "rather would I die than part with my father's amulet! I feel myself capable of plunging my dagger into the bosom of any one rash enough to attempt to tear it from me, whoever he might be." "In truth," rejoined Hadgi-Achmet, "I see that this amulet is far from bestowing all the wisdom of which you young men deem it capable. On the contrary it only seems to me fit to sow dissensions between you, since notwithstanding you have both worn it upon your breast, you have nevertheless preserved your animosity and unjust pretensions in the dispute in question. For which reason I ordain that this precious talisman, of whose real power we are doubtless ignorant, shall remain in my palace and be restored in ten years' time to whichever of you two shall have given by his conduct the most incontestable proofs of piety and virtue." Having heard this sentence, the two brothers sorrowfully withdrew. But they had no sooner crossed the threshold of the palace, than they were reconciled to each other, avowing that the dey had acted with justice, and thenceforth they lived happy and united as before. In the mean time, Hadgi-Achmet, having delivered these four judgments, knit his brows once more, and turning to the members of the divan, addressed them as follows: "Joyfully have I just occupied myself with the smallest things which concern the welfare and repose of my subjects, and I should not regret my time had it been employed in affairs still more trifling. Every thing appears of importance to me which in any way relates to the wellbeing of one of those over whom Allah has made me sovereign. I nothing doubt that you applaud my conduct, and that you would gladly imitate my zeal in the service of the people. Your praises prove it; but I know well that men such as you prefer proving their zeal by actions, rather than by words. I am about therefore to entrust you with a task of great importance to me, since it is for the most interesting class of my subjects, namely, the most unfortunate. I am about to distribute before the Ramadan, four sacks of rice among poor old men and widows. An unskilful hand has contrived in filling these sacks with the rice, to spill amongst it a quantity of _oats_. Now as I do not wish these poor people to think themselves treated with contempt by receiving rice mixed with oats, I wish that pious hands should carefully sift the rice and extract from it these grains. It is on you I rely for the performance of this duty, which awaits you in one of the halls of my palace. I cannot at this moment be an eye-witness of your zeal in obeying me, and serving the people; but before your task is finished, I will be with you." Having spoken these words, the dey caused the members of the divan to be respectfully conducted by his guards to a large hall, where they found four sacks of rice and several baskets. The members of the divan feeling persuaded that this was an affair which more nearly concerned their heads than the sacks of rice, set themselves silently to this unexpected work, whilst the guards remained stationary at the entrance of the hall in which the labour was being carried on. The flight of a musquito might have been heard in this hall where the members of the divan were busily engaged sifting the rice for the poor, all the while vowing to be revenged upon Hadgi-Achmet, if they ever had the power. Towards the evening the members of the divan were joined by Hadgi-Achmet, who perceiving that one of them had made less progress in his task than his three colleagues, said, "I would not accuse thee of want of zeal: man knows not always what he wishes, nor knows what he can do; I will therefore aid thee in thy task," and he began gravely to assist the four members of the divan in sifting the rice of the poor. The tasks being accomplished, the four sacks of rice were carefully closed. Hadgi-Achmet thanked his enemies, and caused them to be conducted with the greatest respect to the gates of his palace. These men left to themselves, regarded each other with consternation and shame; they then said, "We would fain have laughed at Hadgi-Achmet, and it is he who has mocked us. Let us henceforth abstain from criticizing his scrupulous exactitude in rendering justice, but let us think only of avenging ourselves." But they sought the opportunity in vain. Hadgi-Achmet, who had commenced his career by so carefully mending his old slippers, held the reins of power with a strong hand, and whilst other deys in those times almost always met a violent death by steel or poison, he died peacefully in his palace, after having lived many long years. V. THE TUNISIAN SAGE; OR, THE POWDER OF LONGEVITY. Selim-ben-Foubi had been twenty years engaged in commerce when he inherited a fortune which greatly surpassed his wants and even his desires. As he had lost all his children, his great wealth caused him but little joy, and he felt it even embarrassing to possess so much gold and so many precious things, of which he should never be able to make any use. "I am now fifty," said he, "and were I to live to a hundred, I should not spend half of what I possess. I can only take one meal at a time, dress in a single suit, and sleep in but one bed. Hence if I can but rest in peace in a substantial and commodious house, eat as much as I desire, and invite a friend to partake of my repast, that is all I need wish for. I have therefore resolved to give away the half of my fortune during my lifetime, that I may enjoy the pleasure of beholding happiness of my own creating." Having formed this generous project, Selim nevertheless wished before putting it into execution to take counsel with two of his friends. Quitting therefore his country-house at Boudjaréah, he repaired to Aldgezaire, where in the garden of the grand mosque dwelt usually a sage mufti, a grave and reverend man. Seating himself by his side beneath the shade of some flowering pomegranate trees, he thus accosted him: "Mehemet, I have come to visit thee in order to open my whole heart to thee and take counsel of thy wisdom. I am suddenly become very rich, as thou knowest, and I have no son to inherit my wealth; is it not too great for a single solitary man? speak, answer me." "That which Allah gives should never be despised," replied the sage. "I do not disdain my riches," replied Selim, "but I am thinking of sharing them with others, and of keeping only what is necessary to my existence for the remainder of my days." "Thou knowest not what the number of thy days will be." "I will suppose that I may enjoy the longest of lives, a hundred years for example, thinkest thou I shall live yet longer?" "Allah alone knows." "Let us say five hundred," continued Selim, "surely that covers all chances; well then, during this long course of years, would it not be more agreeable to me to know that my riches are useful, than to feel that they were hidden in some coffer, where they might become an object of envy to the poor, or tempt the cupidity of the ill-doer?" "May be so," said the mufti. "My thought is a good one then?" "It may be; but will it be good in practice? I cannot say. Nothing is more common than to think wisely; nothing more rare than to put wise thoughts into practice." "Advise me," said Selim, "and I shall then be sure of fulfilling the law, and of doing good. How ought I to distribute the half of my large fortune?" The mufti reflected profoundly, and then replied: "I advise thee first to take at least one year to reflect upon thy project. Time is the sun that ripens the thoughts of men. We never repent of having reflected before acting; we often regret not having done so. Reflect then, and afterwards come and consult with me." Selim quitted the mosque, and repaired to Bab-a-Zoun street, to the house of his other friend, a Moorish merchant, who laboured hard to support himself by his calling. He began thus: "We have been friends and have known each other these ten years, for which reason I come to put to thee this question: 'In what way, thinkest thou, a man who is both rich and beneficent should employ his fortune, in order to be useful?'" The Moorish merchant replied: "Thou makest a very singular demand of me. I cannot believe that a man can find any difficulty in giving, if he really possess the desire. He may found a mosque, succour the aged, support the widow and the orphan, enrich his friends, if he have any, and the rich are seldom without friends." "But thou," rejoined Selim, "if thou hadst aught to give away, what wouldst thou do?" "I? I cannot fancy myself having any thing to give away, seeing that I can scarcely pay the rent of my poor shop, and fill that shop with a few sacks of rice and a little coffee. If I had money, it is very certain that I should begin by buying a house and goods. It is of no use to say to a poor man like me, 'To whom wouldst thou give thy money?' But I repeat to thee there is no lack of good actions to be done. Happy he who has only to choose." "Thou art right," said Selim to his friend; and quitting him, he returned to his country-house at Boudjaréah. One of his neighbours, Achmet the Arab, accosted him upon the road thither; and Selim, having stopped to converse with his friend, said to him: "Thou art of a ripe age, and art not wanting in experience of the things of this life. Tell me then if thou considerest that it would be well for a man who is rich and childless to give away, while still living, the half of his fortune, reserving the other half, upon which to subsist honourably the remainder of his days." Achmet replied, "I cannot say whether it is better in the sight of Allah to give away or to retain the goods with which he has endowed thee. As for myself, I have nothing to give, for I have a very small fortune, and a great many children; but if I were rich and without heirs, I would bury my gold in some corner of my garden, sooner than bestow it to gratify men who are either wicked or ungrateful, and such they almost all are. This gold would sooner or later be discovered by some one whom Allah desired to enrich, and thus I should not be responsible for the use that was made of it." "Thy idea is not, perhaps, a bad one," said Selim, "and I will certainly reflect upon it." While Selim and his neighbour were talking together, a Tunisian of miserable aspect approached the spot. This was no other than Hussein Muley, a physician of Tunis. He was already advanced in years, and passed for a man rich in science, but poor in money. Selim requested this man to rest himself in his house, and his invitation being accepted, he saluted his neighbour Achmet, and conducted his guest into one of the fresh and salubrious halls of his smiling abode. Hussein Muley, fatigued by two hours' walk under a broiling sun, threw himself upon a divan, whilst fruits and coffee were abundantly served to him. When he had somewhat reposed and refreshed himself, Selim said to him in a friendly manner, "I am happy to receive thee at my house, because thou art a wise man, and of good renown in thy profession. Thou hast travelled, read, and seen life; thou must of necessity be able to judge wisely of the things which relate to this life. I should therefore be very glad to have thy opinion upon a project which I have formed. I have become very rich by inheritance; and having no children, I think of disposing, while yet living, of a great portion of my wealth. In what way dost thou consider it would be most desirable to employ this wealth?" Hussein Muley regarded Selim with surprise. "Thou wouldst give away a great portion of what thou hast," said he. "This is, indeed, a marvellous thing. I have, as thou sayest, travelled, read, and seen life, but never yet have I heard of any man giving away, during his lifetime, the greater part of his fortune." "Does that prove that it would be wrong to do so?" demanded Selim. "I know not," replied the Tunisian, falling into a fit of profound meditation, and looking all the while at the tips of his old slippers, instead of contemplating from afar the ever-changing sea and azure sky. "On what dost thou muse?" at length demanded Selim. "I was thinking--I was thinking that if the duration of man's life were longer, it would be better both for those who study science, and for those who are the fortunate possessors of great wealth; it would be equally good for the poor, since they might one day hope to enjoy the fruit of their toils, if they took pains to become rich." "What profits it to meditate so deeply upon a thing which all the reflections of man cannot change?" "I do not regard the prolongation of human existence as impossible. Hitherto physicians have most frequently been instrumental in abridging it. My aim is to repair the wrongs they have involuntarily committed. I would have succeeding ages regard my memory with gratitude." "What sayest thou?" cried Selim. "Thou wouldst change the order of things, the whole course of nature?" "Nothing can convince me that we follow the course of nature by dying at sixty or eighty years of age, when men formerly lived hundreds of years. On the contrary, I am certain that we were created to live longer, much longer, and I consecrate all my days, my nights, and my studies to the pursuit of a discovery which is destined to prolong the existence of mankind, and renew the state of things as they were when men married at a hundred years of age, and lived to see their sons' sons grow up and marry in their turn. Why, have I often asked myself, should our lives be shorter than those of an oak of the forests, of a serpent, or even of a vulture?" "If we lived as long as an oak," replied Selim, "the cedars and the palm trees would still live longer than we." "Thou dost but jest, but thy jesting is ill-timed; nothing is more serious than the thought which occupies me. Thou thyself, confess now, wouldst thou not be enchanted to see suns succeed suns, and to contemplate for ages to come the wonders of the heavens and the fecundity of the earth?" Selim reflected a little, and replied, "Man does not love death, it is true; nevertheless life is not so desirable as thou wouldst fain have us believe." "Then thou desirest not to prolong thy days upon the earth? For myself, I confess that I desire it greatly; so that besides my days and my nights, I consecrate all that I glean from learned researches to the accomplishment of this great end. I am already upon the track. But unfortunately gold is wanting--this gold which thou despisest, or knowest not how to employ--this gold would in my hands contribute to the happiness of future generations. With gold--with gold you can purchase books of precious value, measure the stars, dig the bowels of the earth, rend metals from her bosom, decompose substances, in short, penetrate into every mystery. Yes, gold which heretofore has been unable to bestow a day, nay an hour upon its possessor, gold in my hands would accomplish a wondrous discovery. I should certainly not keep the secret for myself alone, and I should share it first of all with the man whose wealth had helped me to the means of obtaining it." "But shouldst thou discover the means of prolonging my life for many centuries, I should not then be rich enough to give away half of my fortune." "What!" cried the physician of Tunis, "is not life preferable to all the riches in the world? and if at this moment it were said to thee, 'thou shalt die, or give up the whole of thy possessions,' wouldst thou not readily yield them to avoid the thrust of a yataghan, or the discharge of a gun in thy breast?" "Thou puzzlest me, but I think that in such a case I should give up my property to preserve my life." "Thou seest then that life is dear, even to the poor. Why not therefore endeavour to prolong thine own? Even if my profound science did not succeed, thou wouldst still be rich enough to enjoy an existence of the shorter duration." Listening thus to the learned physician, Selim fell by degrees into a profound reverie, and the Tunisian, instead of continuing his discourse, gave himself up to meditation also; so that both these two men became absorbed in their own dreams in presence of each other, but without communicating their ideas, and Allah alone knows of what they were thinking. After long and silent reflection, Selim said to Hussein Muley, "Before seeing thee I had intended to bestow while yet alive one-half of my fortune in making others happy. It will, I think, be no change of purpose, if I aid thee in pursuing those learned researches which tend to prolong the life of man. For which reason, Hussein Muley, I propose at once to present thee with the gold of which thou hast need. Come with me." The Tunisian, appearing more astonished than rejoiced at these words, gravely arose, followed Selim into another apartment in the house, and received from him a little casket filled with pieces of gold. "Employ this wisely," said Selim, "and communicate to me the result of thy labour." "I will not fail to do so," replied Hussein Muley. And clasping the precious casket to his breast, he exclaimed, "Here then is the means of satisfying my thirst for knowledge, of surmounting all obstacles, of snatching from the past the secret which shall add hundreds of years to the existence of man, and prolong his days to the space of those of his fathers. Selim," added he, "thou dost a meritorious action in giving me this. I need not thank thee, because I am going to work for thee as for myself; nevertheless I do thank thee, and with my whole heart." Having said these words the learned physician withdrew gravely, and with an air of deep abstraction. Selim was not less preoccupied. Left to himself, he meditated long and profoundly on long and short lives, and on the prodigies accomplished by science, and he ended by asking himself whether he should confide to the sage mufti, whom he was soon about to see again, what he had done for Hussein Muley, and his hope of beholding the existence of the human species prolonged to an almost indefinite period. His final resolution was to admit no one to his confidence in the matter, but to await in silence the marvellous discovery of his new friend Hussein Muley, the physician of Tunis. Several months passed by without the reappearance of the latter, but when at length he returned to Boudjaréah he was yellower, leaner, and more attenuated even than a man who had crossed on foot the mighty desert of Sahara. His limbs, in fact, could scarcely support his trembling frame. "Well," said Selim, "what has befallen thee? art thou sick, or dost thou return to me perishing of hunger?" "No, but I have travelled night and day beneath the pale light of the stars, and the burning rays of the sun, and have often forgotten to take necessary sustenance, so deeply was I absorbed in my studies." "Well, and the result?" "Alas! I have not yet succeeded as I could desire. Thus far have I attained only, that I have secured the power of prolonging our days fifty years." Having uttered these words, Hussein Muley sorrowfully clasped his withered hands upon his breast, and then added: "I know that such a discovery would afford intense joy to any other but myself, but it is far from satisfying me. To live fifty years longer than usual, what is that?" "It is something, nevertheless," replied Selim, "and wilt thou tell me what is necessary to be done, in order to add fifty years to one's existence?" "Will I tell thee?" cried the Tunisian; "I am come expressly for that purpose, and to give thee this powder. It must be taken every morning fasting, for one year, three months, a week, and a day, without fail." "I must write down these directions," said Selim. He wrote them down at once, and then asked, "Dost thou not think thou shouldst rest satisfied with thy discovery, and begin to live well, and sleep well, in order to enjoy the remaining years of thy life?" "I have no desire to repose yet from my labours. Of what account are fifty years added to sixty or eighty, soon to be over for me? No, no, I would live two centuries at the least, to enjoy the fruits of my toil, and make the fortunes of my children, and my children's children. For thou dost not imagine we shall at first give to every one for nothing this magnificent secret, which has cost us so much. It is this secret which will procure us the means of living in splendour to the end of our days. Thou canst, for heavy sums of money, dispose of the powder which I shall have composed to whomsoever thou pleasest, while I on my part equally will part with it for gold; and when at length we die, surfeited with life, we will leave our secret to the multitude that survives us." "This arrangement seems to me just, and well conceived. Nevertheless, I desire not to sell the powder, but may I bestow it, and at once, upon one or two men whom I esteem highly?" "No, let us not yet draw attention to our happy fortune; let us wait until my discovery shall be completely perfected." "Agreed; but I lament to see thee yellow, thin, and attenuated, as thou art." "Oh! that is nothing," said the Tunisian, striking his forehead with his hands; "do not let my haggard appearance disturb thee. I would rather have nothing but skin upon my bones, and keep my secret to myself. I shall soon regain my flesh and my complexion. No, my health causes me no uneasiness. I merely suffer from anxiety, which arises from not having money sufficient for the prosecution of my studies." "Dost thou require much?" demanded Selim. "Ah! yes, much," replied Hussein with a sigh; "and if I fail in procuring it, instead of living fifty years longer than the usual course of things, I will either starve myself to death, or drown myself in the well of my house." "Beware of acting thus," said Selim. "I can still give thee something; make use of that, and afterwards follow my advice, and sell to some rich man thy powder, in order to meet the expenses of thy lengthened researches." Hussein Muley appeared to meditate profoundly with his forehead buried in his hands, and seemed not to listen to Selim, but it is not improbable that he heard him very well. "Thou dost not listen to me," continued Selim. "Hussein! Hussein! I will give thee another little casket of gold; but after this casket I have nothing more to give thee. There will only remain just sufficient for me, during the time that I hope to live, thanks to thy powder. If thou discoverest another still more marvellous, thou wilt give it me, at least for my own use, wilt thou not?" Hussein Muley seemed suddenly to come to himself, and exclaimed: "Oh! I have at length found that of which I was in search! Yes, one herb alone is now wanting; I will go in quest of it, were it at the other end of the earth, and I will resolve the great problem which has occupied me for more than thirty years. Selim! Selim! entrust to my keeping what thou canst still consecrate to the happiness of mankind, and rest assured that thou wilt merit the admiration and the gratitude of ages to come." "I desire neither the one nor the other," replied Selim; "I only wish to do a little good, that is all. Shall I succeed in my purpose? I will confess to thee, Hussein Muley, that I have more than once regretted devoting my fortune to a discovery which may prove more fatal than useful to the world; for the world is already peopled enough, and what would it be, if men lived for several centuries? Would they not kill each other for want of room?" "Do they not already kill each other by sea and by land?" said Hussein Muley with a strange smile. "Come," continued he, "do not disquiet thyself about what will some day happen upon the earth; profit by what fate offers thee, and prolong thy days in peace." Having thus spoken, he took the second casket proffered him by Selim, put it under his arm, and said in a grave tone: "I am about to undertake a journey into Asia. There, near the Indies, is a high mountain, Mount Himalaya--dost thou not know it?" "No," answered Selim. "Well, nor I either; but I go to cull from its summit, covered with perpetual snows, a plant, which will complete the discoveries I have already made." "I thought that no plant was ever to be found on those mountain tops covered with perpetual snow and frost?" "There grows none, but that of which I have immediate need; I am going in quest of it, and will show it thee on my return." "It is well," said Selim, and they separated. Hussein Muley retreated with rapid strides. Selim carefully placed in a small box the powder which he was to take fasting, during one year, three months, a week, and a day, and he began from the very next day to administer to himself this drug, which happily he did not find to be very nauseous to the taste. Meanwhile the Tunisian set out from Aldgezaire with his wife, his children, and several chests, containing no doubt his books, and the papers necessary for his studies; but Selim never saw him more. He awaited his return, three, five, ten years, and, as he judged that ten years should suffice to go to Asia, and scale the highest mountain there, he began to think that the yellow, thin, and learned Tunisian was either dead, or else had taken advantage of his credulity and ignorance. Whilst these thoughts occupied his mind, an epidemic broke out in Aldgezaire; Selim was attacked by it. He therefore begged the wise mufti, who was still alive, to come and visit him; and then with that burst of confidence which seizes men in the hour of danger, he opened his heart to him, and related how he had given two caskets full of gold to Hussein Muley, in the hope of prolonging the existence of mankind for many centuries. The wise mufti stroked his venerable beard and exclaimed: "Selim, Selim, thou hast been played upon by a swindler, to whom thou hast imprudently confided thy generous thoughts. This proves the truth of what I one day said to thee, 'With the best intentions we may commit the most foolish actions.'" "Ah!" said Selim sorrowfully, "my misfortune has been in not spontaneously following the first impulse of my heart, for I had really the wish to do good, but in taking counsel of one and another I have followed the worst I received." "Yes," replied the mufti, "thou mightest perhaps have acted wisely in following thy first idea; at the same time, if thou hadst, in accordance with my advice, reflected longer upon thy projects of benevolence, it is certain that thou wouldst not have given thy gold to a cheat who has done nothing but laugh at thy credulity." Selim willingly consented to acknowledge his fault. He confessed that it is useless to take the opinion of the wise and learned, if we do not mean to profit by it; then he prostrated himself devoutly before Allah, recovered his health by degrees, and caused a large sum of money to be distributed among the poor of the mosques, for he relied no longer on the hundreds of years of existence which were to come to him from Mount Himalaya, any more than on the powder of longevity. VI. THE NOSE FOR GOLD. Mohammed and Yousouf, young Moors, born in Aldgezaire, had loved each other from infancy, and increasing years only served to strengthen the bonds of their attachment. Besides the happiness they enjoyed in their mutual affection, their friendship tended also to elevate their characters, and make them remarkable, for every body knows that constant friendships are never the lot of vulgar minds. These two young men, therefore, raised themselves above the level of the vulgar herd by the fidelity of their affection; they were cited as models in their native city; people smiled with pleasure on seeing them pass, always together, ever in good humour; and although they were far from being rich, yet their fate was envied by every one. Mohammed and Yousouf generally dressed alike, and they had recourse to the same trade to gain their living. Their only trouble,--there must always be some in this world,--arose from the shops in which they were engaged during the day being separated from each other; evening, it is true, reunited them in the same dwelling, but that was not enough for them. When they married even, they contrived that it should be to each other's relatives. One family established itself on the first floor of the house, the other immediately above, and the two friends continued to love as heretofore, and to rejoice in their common felicity. Over and over again, during their long conversations, they would repeat with the reiteration usual to those to whom a subject is dear, some such sentiments as these: "The restless periods of youth, marriage, and commercial affairs have tried our friendship without altering it; it is henceforth secure from all changes; old age will only serve to render us dearer to each other, and we shall leave to our families the record and example of an affection which a future day will doubtless see renewed in our sons." "It is probable," they would often say, "that Allah, touched by our friendship upon earth, will reunite us eternally in the paradise of true believers, beneath fresh shades, and by the side of bubbling fountains, surrounded by flowers of sweet perfume." At this prospect of an eternal union, an eternal happiness, both would smile in anticipation, and such expressions as these they were never weary of repeating to each other. These two friends were about thirty years of age, when a lucky chance gave them the opportunity of accomplishing the dearest wish of their hearts, that of occupying together two small shops adjoining each other. An old Israelite, without family and without children, had inhabited them for twenty years. In one he slept and ate, not having any other house; in the other he displayed his merchandise; essences, amber, pastilles, necklaces and bracelets for the rich Moors, small looking-glasses, and beads of coral for the slaves; all of which he sold at the dearest possible price, as if he had a dozen children to support, and as many of his co-religionists. Mohammed and Yousouf established themselves with lively satisfaction in these shops, the possession of which they had so long coveted, without at the same time desiring the death of the old Jew. They were incapable of a wicked action; but the Jew being dead, as they could not restore him to life, they saw no harm in lawfully taking possession of his domicile. This event seemed to complete their happiness. But who can say or know what is really a good or an evil? who can foresee the consequences of things? Mohammed one day, while knocking a nail into the partition wall between his shop and that of Yousouf, discovered that this wall was hollow, and that it contained some pieces of metal. His first impulse was to call, "Yousouf! Yousouf! there is gold or silver in our wall;" but the next moment he thought, "I will first assure myself of what this part of the wall contains, and if I really make a fortunate discovery, I shall give Yousouf such an agreeable surprise by calling him to partake of it." Accordingly he waited until Yousouf should be out of the way for an hour or two to give him the opportunity of exploring further into his wall, but it so happened that Yousouf was never absent at all for several days following. Mohammed then said to his friend: "I fancy that something has been stolen from my shop during the night. I shall sleep there to-night, in order to surprise the thief, if he should reappear." "I shall not leave thee alone here all night," replied Yousouf, "but shall sleep also in my shop by the side of thee." Mohammed in vain strove to oppose the resolution of his friend; he could not revisit his shop alone in the evening, and for several days following, Yousouf seeing that he appeared pensive and uneasy, quitted him less than ever, and said to him with the solicitude of true friendship: "Thou seemest sad! Thy wife and thy sons, are they ill? Regrettest thou what has been taken from thy shop? Compensate thyself for thy loss by selecting whatever thou wilt from that which I possess." Mohammed thanked Yousouf, and replied with a smile: "Rest satisfied, I have no grief." He dared not add, "I have no secret," for he had one. In order however to put an end to the feeling of intense anxiety that filled his mind, he came to his shop one night unknown to Yousouf, and hastily detaching from the partition wall first one stone, then two or three more, he discovered a hundred Spanish doubloons, and eight four-dollar pieces. This was a perfect treasure to Mohammed, who had never in his life possessed more than the half of a small house, and the few goods exposed for sale in his shop. "We are rich," said he. "Yousouf and I can now purchase a country house by the sea-side, as we have so often wished. Our wives and our children will disport themselves in our sight. My son Ali, that beautiful child whom I so tenderly love, will be delighted to run among the trees and climb up into their topmost branches. Ah! how rejoiced I am, if only for his sake." Thus thinking, Mohammed took his gold and his silver, replaced, as well as he was able, the stones in his wall, and returned to his home, his mind occupied with delightful visions, and already beholding himself in imagination enjoying the pleasures of a delightful habitation by the sea-shore, with his beautiful Ali, that dear child whom he so tenderly loved. During two days he put off from hour to hour the disclosure which he had to make to Yousouf; and during those two days he revolved all sorts of ideas in his mind. "If I made the fortune of my son, instead of that of my friend," said he at length to himself, "should I be guilty? Is not a son nearer and dearer than all the friends in the world? Yes; but then the gold and silver which I have discovered belong by rights as much to Yousouf as to myself, for the wall whence I have taken them belongs as much to his shop as to mine." Unable to resolve either to share his treasure with his friend or to keep it for himself alone, he took the resolution of carefully concealing it in the chamber in which he slept, and of waiting until the agitation caused in his mind by so important an event should have somewhat subsided, to which end he hastened to secure his newly acquired possession. "Reflection is no crime," said he. Consequently he gave himself time to reflect, instead of following the first impulse of his heart and remaining faithful to that devotion of friendship which had hitherto constituted his pride and glory, and which still bore the promise of so rich a harvest in the future. He passed all his time then, extended during the heat of the day upon a mat by the side of his merchandise, and with closed eyes feigning to sleep, while in reality he was thinking of nothing but his treasure, and of what he ought to do with it. Yousouf meanwhile, impressed with the idea that his friend was sleeping, took every care to guard his slumbers from interruption, thinking as he gently fanned his fevered brow of nothing but Mohammed, and what he could possibly invent to divert him and render him happy. One day as Yousouf and Mohammed were reposing after their labours, an old hump-backed Jew with a sallow complexion and an enormous nose accosted Yousouf, saying: "Was it not here that Nathan Cohen, the son of David, lived about two years since?" "Speak low," replied Yousouf to the Jew. "My friend is asleep, and I would not that his slumbers should be disturbed." The Jew seated himself on the edge of Yousouf's little counter, and repeated his inquiry, at the same time lowering the harsh and hollow tones of his voice. "Yes, it was here that Nathan Cohen, the son of David, dwelt," replied the young Moor. "Ah!" said the old Jew, working his large and flexible nostrils, "I was sure of it--that is why I scent gold hidden here." "Indeed!" said Yousouf, regarding somewhat incredulously the extraordinary nose of his interlocutor. "Thou dost well to talk of smelling gold or silver either. Thy olfactory nerves are of the strongest no doubt, nevertheless I fear me they are at fault in this dwelling, where gold and silver but seldom make their appearance." "They are not often to be seen here," replied the Jew; "I know that full well; they are not heard here either, for the earth conceals them both from sight and sound. But remove them from the envious ground that covers them, and they will dazzle thine eyes and charm thine ears." "Indeed!" said Yousouf, laughing. "Thou art the bearer of good news. How much dost thou demand for thy reward?" "I would have thee share with me all that I shall cause to be discovered in thy house by means of the marvellous sense of smelling with which I am endowed, and at which thou now jestest." "Share with thee!" exclaimed Yousouf. "Oh no, indeed! If I were fortunate enough to discover a treasure, it is with my friend Mohammed that I should hasten to share it." "But thou wilt have nothing to share with him if I do not disclose to thee the spot where thy treasure lies concealed." "Perhaps so. But if I put any confidence in thy nose, what prevents me from turning my whole shop topsy-turvy, digging up the floor, and pulling down the walls and the shelves?" The Jew slowly regarded the ground, the walls, and the shelves, as they were severally named by Yousouf; then he said in an ironical manner: "Thou wouldst not do much harm if thou wert to demolish all around thee; but to save thyself so much trouble and labour, thou hadst far better give me at least one-third of what I shall discover in thy dwelling. The other two-thirds can be for thyself and thy friend, if thou art fool enough not to wish to keep all for thyself." "Ah, it may suit such a man as thou to call him who prefers friendship to money a fool! But in spite of all thy arguments I shall never change, and I shall love Mohammed better than all the money in the world." "As you please. It remains to be seen if Mohammed would do the same for you." "I have not the slightest doubt of it," replied Yousouf. The Jew uttered a suppressed laugh. "And I have every doubt of it," said he. "I doubt even _thy_ future disinterestedness, notwithstanding the warmth of thy discourse. Yousouf! Yousouf! thou hast not yet beheld the dazzling brilliancy of gold! It is the lustre of this metal which charms the eyes and wins the heart of man. Once let him see gold before him, and know that he has the power to possess himself of it, and adieu to every other thought. Gold! why it is the thing to be most desired in the world. Possessed of gold, what can we not enjoy? a fine house, smiling pasturage, blooming gardens, rich stuffs, divans, perfumes, all, in short, that renders life desirable!" "That is very true," replied Yousouf. "We can procure many things with gold; but still gold cannot purchase youth, gaiety, friendship, or even a good appetite or sound sleep. Leave me then in peace with thy discoveries, and if thou art so skilled in the art of scenting gold, learn also to scan the disposition of him to whom thou addressest thyself." "Then thou wilt not consent to give me the third of what I know to be here, hidden though it may be?" "Decidedly not," replied Yousouf. "I have no faith in thy ridiculous pretensions; moreover, I do not know thee, and have never seen thee either in the public walks, the streets, or elsewhere." "I have just returned from a long journey," replied the old man; "my name is Ephraim. When I quitted this city, thou wert but sixteen years of age; my friend Nathan Cohen, son of David, was then very old: he has been dead, they say, these two years." "And so thou comest to exercise thy sense of smelling in thy accustomed haunt," said Yousouf gaily; "and seest thou not then that there is some power in friendship, since it is the memory of a friend that brings thee hither?" "Ah! it is not the memory of the past, but hope for the future," replied the old Jew. "So long as our friends are alive they may be useful, though that is a thing that very rarely happens; but when they are dead, what is the use of thinking any more of them?" Yousouf, wearied out with so much discussion, said at length to Ephraim: "Come, come, enough of this! Leave this place; thy voice will, I am sure, awaken my friend, and prevent him from sleeping, as he delights to do during the heat of the day." "Do not let us awaken him," replied the Jew, "but let us remove the ground there beneath thy feet. I will hope that a feeling of gratitude may induce thee to bestow upon me a portion of what I shall discover for thee." So saying, the Jew drew a long iron pickaxe from beneath his dirty brown tunic, and began to break up the ground around the feet of Yousouf. The latter regarded the old man--his prodigious nose inflated by the hope of gain--with a smile of derision. But in a short space of time their eyes were dazzled by a sight of the precious metal. The Jew had, indeed, succeeded in disinterring a veritable treasure. "Let us now count this gold and silver," said he. They took it, and counted it, and found that Yousouf had suddenly become the possessor of five hundred Spanish doubloons, and sixty four-dollar pieces. He could scarcely believe his eyes. "Well," said the Jew, "what sayest thou? have I lied to thee, or deceived myself? Come, let us see now what thou art going to give me in reward for my pains." "I will awaken Mohammed," said Yousouf, "and he and I will certainly give thee something as a recompense." "Yousouf!" said the Jew, arresting the young Moor by the arm, "reflect a moment before awakening thy friend. Would it not be better to keep this treasure for thyself and for thy sons? Hast thou not children, and are not children much dearer than a friend?" "If I have children," replied Yousouf, "Mohammed has them also. We loved each other before they were born, and we know how to be good fathers without being faithless friends." At this moment Mohammed, who had not awaked, for the very sufficient reason that he had not been asleep, started as if he had been stung by a thousand mosquitoes at once, and rose with a sudden bound. The concluding words of Yousouf had awakened a feeling of remorse within his breast. "Yousouf! Yousouf!" said he to his friend, "I have heard all. Yes, every thing, and thy sincere friendship, tried by time and tried by gold, is now the sole treasure I desire." "I know for how long a time thou hast thought thus," replied Yousouf. "But since Allah has chosen to make us rich, let us not disdain the blessing which he sends. He it was who first inspired us with the wish for these two little shops, and who has bestowed them upon us. It is he who has conducted hither this Jew who has been the instrument of our discovering this treasure. Let us offer our thanks to Allah, and let us give to Ephraim that which is meet and right." "Be that as thou only wilt," said Mohammed with a preoccupied air. "Thou art just and righteous, and thy thoughts are pure in the sight of Allah." Yousouf paid no great heed to this friendly eulogium, but continued gaily: "Since thou permittest me to be the sole arbiter in the affair, this is my decision." Then, turning towards Ephraim: "Thou shalt be more or less recompensed," said he, "according to the candour with which thou repliest to my question. Come, then, answer me truly, hast thou really, thanks to the singular form of thy nose, so fine a sense of smell as to be able to trace any metal whatever, either under ground or elsewhere?" "Yes," said the Jew, "I possess this rare faculty, thanks to my nose; and to give thee a farther proof of it, I declare that I can again scent in this spot in the wall a sum of gold and silver, the exact amount of which I cannot enumerate." Mohammed turned pale at these words. "In this wall?" said he. "Yes. Suffer me to make a little hole with this gimlet here, and you will see if I speak falsely." "Dig where thou wilt," replied Yousouf; "we have no right to prevent thee after the discovery thou hast just made here." The Jew instantly set to work at the wall, but it was now his turn to be astonished, for the wall, hollow it is true, was guiltless of gold or silver either. Yousouf burst out laughing at the disconcerted and stupified look of the old Jew. "Never mind," said he, "thy nose has deceived thee for once; but thou must not let that discourage thee. Still, hadst thou frankly told me that as a friend of old Nathan Cohen thou knewest where he had hidden his treasure, in return for thy confidence I should have given thee a quarter of what thou hast found; but since thou hast persisted in assuring me that thy nose is gifted with supernatural powers, I shall give thee much less. Besides, with such a nose as thine no one can doubt but thy fortune is made." "Ah!" cried the Jew, clasping his withered and wrinkled hands, "Yousouf! Yousouf! since thou art good and just, as Mohammed says, take pity on my poverty; it impelled me to deal falsely with thee; I confess it now; and spite of its singular form, my nose has nothing but what is common to other noses. Accord then to my tardy sincerity that which thou wouldst at first have given me." Yousouf consulted Mohammed again, who replied thus: "Thou art just and pious; act according to thy own desire." Yousouf then counted out to the old Jew the fourth part of what he had just found, thus rendering him happy for the remainder of his days. Then, finding himself alone with his friend, he began to divide into two equal parts the gold and silver which remained. "Give me none! give me none, Yousouf!" exclaimed Mohammed, "I am no longer deserving of thy friendship." "Thou!" said Yousouf, "art thou mad? what sayst thou?" "I speak the melancholy truth," cried Mohammed; "I have not a noble heart like thine. Some time since I discovered in the wall the gold and silver which the Jew thought to find there; but instead of saying as thou hast done, 'I will share it with my friend,' I put off from day to day the fulfilment of this sacred duty. Ah, Yousouf, I am unworthy of thy friendship, and am very unhappy!" Yousouf remained silent for a few moments, but soon his brow grew clear, and a pleasing smile diffused itself over his features and illuminated his fine dark eyes. "What man," said he, "is entirely master over his own thoughts? Thou didst hesitate, sayst thou, before confiding to me the discovery thou hadst made. That may be, but thou wouldst not have failed to do so at last. Thou wouldst never have been able to behold thyself rich, knowing me to be poor, and to sit at a feast whilst I lived upon black bread. Thou didst not thoroughly understand the wants and feelings of thy heart: that is all. Thou didst not at once perceive wherein lies true happiness, for which reason thou hast caused thyself much uneasiness. It is over now; our friendship has been tried by gold; nothing remains for us but to enjoy the good fortune that has befallen us. Let us seek to do so like wise men, and never let us forget to set apart for the poor a portion of that which Allah has bestowed upon us." The two friends agreed therefore to give a hundred doubloons to the poor of the great mosque. Then with the rest of their treasure they purchased a beautiful country house not far from the sea, on the coast of Punta Pescada. There they lived happily for many long years, always admired and esteemed for their mutual affection, and for the goodness of their hearts; for, strange to say, their sudden and unexpected change of fortune never served to render them callous to the poor, nor indifferent to the wants and troubles of their fellow-creatures. VII. THE STORY OF THE TREASURES OF BASRA. All historians agree that the caliph Haroun-al-Raschid would have been the most perfect prince of his time, as he was also the most powerful, if he had not so often given way both to anger and to an insupportable vanity. He was always saying that no prince in the world was so generous as himself. Giafar, his chief vizir, being at last quite disgusted with his boasting, took the liberty to say to him one day, "Oh, my sovereign lord, monarch of the world, pardon your slave if he dares to represent to you that you ought not thus to praise yourself. Leave that to your subjects and the crowds of strangers who frequent your court. Content yourself with the knowledge that the former thank heaven for being born in your dominions, and that the latter congratulate themselves on having quitted their country to come and live under your laws." Haroun was very angry at these words; he looked sternly at his vizir, and asked him if he knew any one who could be compared to himself in generosity. "Yes, my lord," answered Giafar, "there is in the town of Basra a young man named Aboulcassem, who, though a private individual, lives in more magnificence than kings, and without excepting even your majesty, no prince is more generous than this man." The caliph reddened at these words, his eyes flashed with anger. "Do you know," he said, "that a subject who has the audacity to lie to his master merits death?" "I have said nothing but the truth," replied the vizir. "During my last visit to Basra I saw this Aboulcassem; I stayed at his house; my eyes, though accustomed to your treasures, were surprised at his riches, and I was charmed with the generosity of his manners." At these words the impetuous Haroun could no longer contain his anger. "You are most insolent," he cried, "to place a private individual on an equality with myself! Your imprudence shall not remain unpunished." So saying, he made a sign for the captain of his guards to approach, and commanded him to arrest the vizir Giafar. He then went to the apartment of the princess Zobeide his wife, who grew pale with fear on seeing his irritated countenance. "What is the matter, my lord?" said she; "what causes you to be thus agitated?" Haroun told her all that had passed, and complained of his vizir in terms that soon made Zobeide comprehend how enraged he was with the minister. This wise princess advised him to suspend his resentment, and send some one to Basra to ascertain the truth of Giafar's assertion; if it was false, she argued, the vizir should be punished; on the contrary, if it proved true, which she could not believe, it was not just to treat him as a criminal. This discourse calmed the fury of the caliph. "I approve of this counsel, madam," said he, "and will acknowledge that I owe this justice to such a minister as Giafar. I will do still more; as any other person I charged with this office might, from an aversion to my vizir, give me a false statement, I will myself go to Basra and judge of the truth of this report. I will make acquaintance with this young man, whose generosity is thus extolled; if Giafar has told me true, I will load him with benefits instead of punishing him for his frankness; but I swear he shall forfeit his life if I find he has told me a falsehood." As soon as Haroun had formed this resolution he thought of nothing but how to execute it. One night he secretly left the palace, mounted his horse, and left the city, not wishing any one to follow him, though Zobeide entreated him not to go alone. Arriving at Basra, he dismounted at the first caravansary he found on entering the city, the landlord of which seemed a good old man. "Father," said Haroun, "is it true that there is in this city a young man called Aboulcassem, who surpasses even kings in magnificence and generosity?" "Yes, my lord," answered the landlord; "and if I had a hundred mouths, and in each mouth a hundred tongues, I could not relate to you all his generous actions." As the caliph had now need of some repose, he retired to rest after partaking of a slight refreshment. He was up very early in the morning, and walked about until sunrise. Then he approached a tailor's shop and asked for the dwelling of Aboulcassem. "From what country do you come?" said the tailor; "most certainly you have never been at Basra before, or you would have heard where the lord Aboulcassem lives; why, his house is better known than the palace of the king." The caliph answered, "I am a stranger; I know no one in this city, and I shall be obliged if you will conduct me to this lord's house." Upon that the tailor ordered one of his boys to show the caliph the way to the residence of Aboulcassem. It was a large house built of stone, with a doorway of marble and jasper. The prince entered the court, where there was a crowd of servants and liberated slaves who were amusing themselves in different ways while they awaited the orders of their master. He approached one of them and said, "Friend, I wish you would take the trouble to go to the lord Aboulcassem and tell him a stranger wishes to see him." The domestic judged from the appearance of Haroun that he was no common man. He ran to apprise his master, who coming into the court took the stranger by the hand and conducted him to a very beautiful saloon. The caliph then told the young man, that having heard him mentioned in terms of praise, he had become desirous of seeing him, and had travelled to Basra for that purpose. Aboulcassem modestly replied to this compliment, and seating his guest on a sofa, asked of what country and profession he was, and where he lodged at Basra. "I am a merchant of Bagdad," replied the caliph, "and I have taken a lodging at the first caravansary I found on my arrival." After they had conversed for a short time there entered twelve pages bearing vases of agate and rock crystal, enriched with precious stones, and full of the most exquisite beverages. They were followed by twelve very beautiful female slaves, some carrying china bowls filled with fruit and flowers, and others golden caskets containing conserves of an exquisite flavour. The pages presented their beverages to the caliph; the prince tasted them, and though accustomed to the most delicious that could be obtained in the East, he acknowledged that he had never tasted better. As it was now near the hour for dinner, Aboulcassem conducted his guest to another room, where they found a table covered with the choicest delicacies served on dishes of massive gold. The repast finished, the young man took the caliph by the hand and led him to a third room more richly furnished than the two others. Here the slaves brought a prodigious quantity of gold vases, enriched with rubies, filled with all sorts of rare wines, and china plates containing dried sweetmeats. While the host and his guest were partaking of these delicious wines there entered singers and musicians, who commenced a concert, with which Haroun was enchanted. "I have," he said to himself, "the most admirable voices in _my_ palace, but I must confess they cannot bear comparison with these. I do not understand how a private individual can live in such magnificence." Amongst the voices there was one in particular the extraordinary sweetness of which attracted the attention of the prince, and whilst he was absorbed in listening to it Aboulcassem left the room and returned a moment after holding in one hand a wand, and in the other a little tree whose stem was of silver, the branches and leaves emeralds, and the fruit rubies. On the top of this tree was a golden peacock beautifully executed, the body of which was filled with amber, essence of aloes, and other perfumes. He placed this tree at the caliph's feet; then striking the head of the peacock with his wand, the bird extended its wings and tail, and moved itself quickly to the right and left, whilst at each movement of its body the most odoriferous perfumes filled the apartment. The caliph was so astonished and delighted that he could not take his eyes off the tree and the peacock, and he was just going to express his admiration when Aboulcassem suddenly took them away. Haroun was offended at this, and said to himself, "What does all this mean? It appears to me this young man does not merit so much praise. He takes away the tree and the peacock when he sees me occupied in looking at them more than he likes. Is he afraid I want him to make me a present? I fear Giafar is mistaken in calling him a generous man." He was thus thinking when Aboulcassem returned accompanied by a little page as beautiful as the sun. This lovely child was dressed in gold brocade covered with pearls and diamonds. He held in his hand a cup made of one single ruby, and filled with wine of a purple colour. He approached the caliph, and prostrating himself to the ground, presented the cup. The prince extended his hand to receive it, but, wonderful to relate, he perceived on giving back the cup to the page, that though he had emptied the cup, it was still quite full. He put it again to his lips and emptied it to the very last drop. He then placed it again in the hands of the page, and at the same moment saw it filling without any one approaching it. The surprise of Haroun was extreme at this wonderful circumstance, which made him forget the tree and the peacock. He asked how it was accomplished. "My lord," said Aboulcassem, "it is the work of an ancient sage who was acquainted with most of the secrets of nature;" and then, taking the page by the hand, he precipitately left the apartment. The caliph was indignant at this behaviour. "I see how it is," said he, "this young man has lost his senses. He brings me all these curiosities of his own accord, he presents them to my view, and when he perceives my admiration, he instantly removes his treasures. I never experienced treatment so ridiculous or uncourteous. Ah, Giafar! I thought you a better judge of men." In this manner they continued amusing themselves till sunset. Then Haroun said to the young man, "Oh, generous Aboulcassem, I am confused with the reception you have given me; permit me now to retire and leave you to repose." The young lord of Basra not wishing to inconvenience his guest, politely saluted him, and conducted him to the door of the house, apologizing for not having received him in a more magnificent style. "I quite acknowledge," said the caliph on returning to his caravansary, "that for magnificence Aboulcassem surpasses kings, but for generosity, there my vizir was wrong in placing him in comparison with myself; for what present has he made me during my visit? I was lavish in my praises of the tree, the cup, and the page, and I should have thought my admiration would have induced him to offer me, at least, one of these things. No, this man is ostentatious; he feels a pleasure in displaying his riches to the eyes of strangers. And why? Only to satisfy his pride and vanity. In reality he is a miser, and I ought not to pardon Giafar for thus deceiving me." Whilst making these disagreeable reflections on his minister, he arrived at the caravansary. But what was his astonishment on finding there silken carpets, magnificent tents, a great number of servants, slaves, horses, mules, camels, and besides all these, the tree and the peacock, and the page with his cup? The domestics prostrated themselves before him, and presented a roll of silk paper, on which were written these words, "Dear and amiable guest, I have not, perhaps, shown you the respect which is your due; I pray you to forget any appearance of neglect in my manner of receiving you, and do not distress me by refusing the little presents I have sent you. As to the tree, the peacock, the page, and the cup, since they please you, they are yours already, for any thing that delights my guests ceases to be mine from that instant." When the caliph had finished reading this letter, he was astounded at the liberality of Aboulcassem, and remembered how wrongly he had judged the young man. "A thousand blessings," cried he, "on my vizir Giafar! He has caused me to be undeceived. Ah, Haroun, never again boast of being the most magnificent and generous of men! one of your subjects surpasses you. But how is a private individual able to make such presents? I ought to have asked where he amassed such riches; I was wrong not to have questioned him on this point: I must not return to Bagdad without investigating this affair. Besides, it concerns me to know why there is a man in my dominions who leads a more princely life than myself. I must see him again, and try to discover by what means he has acquired such an immense fortune." Impatient to satisfy his curiosity, he left his new servants in the caravansary, and returned immediately to the young man's residence. When he found himself in his presence he said, "Oh, too amiable Aboulcassem, the presents you have made me are so valuable, that I fear I cannot accept them without abusing your generosity. Permit me to send them back before I return to Bagdad, and publish to the world your magnificence and generous hospitality." "My lord," answered the young man with a mortified air, "you certainly must have had reason to complain of the unhappy Aboulcassem; I fear some of his actions have displeased you, since you reject his presents; you would not have done me this injury, if you were satisfied with me." "No," replied the prince, "heaven is my witness that I am enchanted with your politeness; but your presents are too costly; they surpass those of kings, and if I dared tell you what I think, you would be less prodigal with your riches, and remember that they may soon be exhausted." Aboulcassem smiled at these words and said to the caliph, "My lord, I am very glad to learn that it is not to punish me for having committed any fault against yourself that you wished to refuse my presents; and now to oblige you to accept them, I will tell you that every day I can make the same and even more magnificent ones without inconveniencing myself. I see," added he, "that this astonishes you, but you will cease to be surprised when I have told you all the adventures which have happened to me. It is necessary that I should thus confide in you." Upon this he conducted Haroun to a room a thousand times richer and more ornamented than any of the others. The most exquisite essences perfumed this apartment, in which was a throne of gold placed on the richest carpets. Haroun could not believe he was in the house of a subject; he imagined he must be in the abode of a prince infinitely more powerful than himself. The young man made him mount the throne, and placing himself by his side, commenced the history of his life. HISTORY OF ABOULCASSEM. I am the son of a jeweller of Cairo, named Abdelaziz. He possessed such immense riches, that fearing to draw upon himself the envy or avarice of the sultan of Egypt, he quitted his native country and established himself at Basra, where he married the only daughter of the richest merchant in that city. I am the only child of that marriage, so that inheriting the estates of both my parents I became possessed on their death of a very splendid fortune. But I was young, I liked extravagance, and having wherewith to exercise my liberal propensities, or rather my prodigality, I lived with so much profusion, that in less than three years my fortune was dissipated. Then, like all who repent of their foolish conduct, I made the most promising resolutions for the future. After the life I had led at Basra, I thought it better to leave that place, for it seemed to me my misery would be more supportable among strangers. Accordingly I sold my house, and left the city before daybreak. When it was light I perceived a caravan of merchants who had encamped on a spot of ground near me. I joined them, and as they were on their road to Bagdad, where I also wished to go, I departed with them; I arrived there without accident, but soon found myself in a very miserable situation. I was without money, and of all my large fortune there remained but one gold sequin. In order to do something for a living I changed my sequin into aspres, and purchased some preserved apples, sweetmeats, balms, and roses. With these I went every day to the house of a merchant where many persons of rank and others were accustomed to assemble and converse together. I presented to them in a basket what I had to sell. Each took what he liked, and never failed to remunerate me, so that by this little commerce I contrived to live very comfortably. One day as I was as usual selling flowers at the merchant's house, there was seated in a corner of the room an old man, of whom I took no notice, and on perceiving that I did not address him, he called me and said, "My friend, how comes it that you do not offer your merchandise to me as well as the others? Do you take me for a dishonest man, or imagine that my purse is empty?" "My lord," answered I, "I pray you pardon me. All that I have is at your service, I ask nothing for it." At the same time I offered him my basket; he took some perfume, and told me to sit down by him. I did so, and he asked me a number of questions, who I was, and what was my name. "Excuse me satisfying your curiosity," said I, sighing; "I cannot do so without reopening wounds which time is beginning to heal." These words, or the tone in which I uttered them, prevented the old man from questioning me further. He changed the discourse, and after a long conversation, on rising to depart he took out his purse and gave me ten gold sequins. I was greatly surprised at this liberality. The wealthiest lords to whom I had been accustomed to present my basket had never given me even one sequin, and I could not tell what to make of this man. On the morrow, when I returned to the merchants, I again found my old friend; and for many days he continued to attract my attention. At length, one day, as I was addressing him after he had taken a little balm from my basket, he made me again sit by him, and pressed me so earnestly to relate my history, that I could not refuse him. I informed him of all that had happened to me; after this confidence he said: "Young man, I knew your father. I am a merchant of Basra; I have no child, and have conceived a friendship for you; I will adopt you as my son, therefore console yourself for your past misfortunes. You have found a father richer by far than Abdelaziz, and who will have as much affection for you." I thanked the venerable old man for the honour he did me, and followed him as he left the house. He made me throw away my basket of flowers, and conducted me to a large mansion that he had hired. There I was lodged in a spacious apartment with slaves to wait on me, and by his order they brought me rich clothes. One would have thought my father Abdelaziz again lived, and it seemed as if I had never known sorrow. When the merchant had finished the business that detained him at Bagdad,--namely, when he had sold the merchandise he brought with him,--we both took the road to Basra. My friends, who never thought to see me again, were not a little surprised to hear I had been adopted by a man who passed for the richest merchant in the city. I did my best to please the old man. He was charmed with my behaviour. "Aboulcassem," he often said to me, "I am enchanted that I met you at Bagdad. You appear worthy of all I have done for you." I was touched with the kindness he evinced for me, and far from abusing it, endeavoured to do all I could to please my kind benefactor. Instead of seeking companions of my own age, I always kept in his company, scarcely ever leaving him. At last this good old man fell sick, and the physicians despaired of his life. When he was at the last extremity he made all but myself leave him, and then said, "Now is the time, my son, to reveal to you a most important secret. If I had only this house with all its riches to bequeath, I should leave you but a moderate fortune; but all that I have amassed during the course of my life, though considerable for a merchant, is nothing in comparison to the treasure that is concealed here, and which I am now about to reveal to you. I shall not tell you how long ago, by whom, or in what manner it was found, for I am ignorant of that myself; all I know is, that my grandfather, when dying, told the secret to my father, who also made me acquainted with it a few days before his death. But," continued he, "I have one advice to give you, and take care you do not slight it. You are naturally generous. When you are at liberty to follow your own inclinations, you will no doubt be lavish of your riches. You will receive with magnificence any strangers who may come to your house. You will load them with presents, and will do good to all who implore your assistance. This conduct, which I much approve of if you can keep it within bounds, will at last be the cause of your ruin. The splendour of your establishment will excite the envy of the king of Basra, and the avarice of his ministers. They will suspect you of having some hidden treasure. They will spare no means to discover it, and will imprison you. To prevent this misfortune, you have only to follow my example. I have always, as well as my grandfather and father, carried on my business and enjoyed this treasure without ostentation; we have never indulged in any extravagance calculated to surprise the world." I faithfully promised the merchant I would imitate his prudence. He told me where I should find the treasure, and assured me that whatever idea I might have formed of its splendour, I should find the reality far exceed my expectations. At last, when the generous old man died, I, as his sole heir, performed for him the last offices, and, taking possession of his property, of which this house is a part, proceeded at once to see this treasure. I confess to you, my lord, that I was thunderstruck. I found it to be, if not inexhaustible, at least so vast that I could never expend it, even if heaven were to permit me to live beyond the age of man. My resolution therefore was at once formed, and instead of keeping the promise I made to the old merchant, I spend my riches freely. It is my boast that there is no one in Basra who has not benefited by my generosity. My house is open to all who desire my aid, and they leave it perfectly contented. Do you call it _possessing_ a treasure if it must not be touched? And can I make a better use of it than by endeavouring to relieve the unhappy, to receive strangers with liberality, and to lead a life of generosity and charity? Every one thought I should be ruined a second time. "If Aboulcassem," said they, "had all the treasures of the commander of the faithful, he would spend them." But they were much astonished, when, instead of seeing my affairs in disorder, they, on the contrary, appeared every day to become more flourishing. No one could imagine how my fortune increased, while I was thus squandering it. As the old man predicted, a feeling of envy was excited against me. A rumour prevailed that I had found a treasure. This was sufficient to attract the attention of a number of persons greedy of gain. The lieutenant of police at Basra came to see me. "I am," said he, "the daroga, and am come to demand where the treasure is which enables you to live in such magnificence." I trembled at these words, and remained silent. He guessed from my confused air that his suspicions were not without foundation; but instead of compelling me to discover my treasure, "My lord Aboulcassem," continued he, "I exercise my office as a man of sense. Make me some present worthy of my discretion in this affair, and I will retire." "How much do you ask?" said I. "I will content myself with ten gold sequins a day." "That is not enough--I will give you a hundred. You have only to come here every day or every month, and my treasurer will count them out to you." The lieutenant of police was transported with joy at hearing these words. "My lord," said he, "I wish that you could find a thousand treasures. Enjoy your fortune in peace; I shall never dispute your possession of it." Then taking a large sum of money in advance he went his way. A short time after the vizir Aboulfatah-Waschi sent for me, and, taking me into his cabinet, said: "Young man, I hear you have discovered a treasure. You know the fifth part belongs to God; you must give it to the king. Pay the fifth, and you shall remain the quiet possessor of the other four parts." I answered him thus: "My lord, I acknowledge that I _have_ found a treasure, but I swear to you at the same time that I will confess nothing, though I should be torn in pieces. But I promise to give you every day a thousand gold sequins, provided you leave me in peace." Aboulfatah was as tractable as the lieutenant of police. He sent his confidential servant, and my treasurer gave him thirty thousand sequins for the first month. This vizir, fearing no doubt that the king of Basra would hear of what had passed, thought it better to inform him himself of the circumstance. The prince listened very attentively, and thinking the affair required investigating, sent to summon me. He received me with a smiling countenance, saying: "Approach, young man, and answer me what I shall ask you. Why do you not show me your treasure? Do you think me so unjust, that I shall take it from you?" "Sire," replied I, "may the life of your majesty be prolonged for ages; but if you commanded my flesh to be torn with burning pincers I would not discover my treasure; I consent every day to pay to your majesty two thousand gold sequins. If you refuse to accept them, and think proper that I should die, you have only to order it; but I am ready to suffer all imaginable torments, sooner than satisfy your curiosity." The king looked at his vizir as I said this, and demanded his opinion. "Sire," said the minister, "the sum he offers you is considerable--it is of itself a real treasure. Send the young man back, only let him be careful to keep his word with your majesty." The king followed this advice; he loaded me with caresses, and from that time, according to my agreement, I pay every year to the prince, the vizir, and the lieutenant of police, more than one million sixty thousand gold sequins. This, my lord, is all I have to tell you. You will now no longer be surprised at the presents I have made you, nor at what you have seen in my house. CONCLUSION OF THE STORY OF THE TREASURES OF BASRA. When Aboulcassem had finished the recital of his adventures, the caliph, animated with a violent desire to see the treasure, said to him, "Is it possible that there is in the world a treasure that your generosity can never exhaust? No! I cannot believe it, and if it was not exacting too much from you, my lord, I would ask to see what you possess, and I swear never to reveal what you may confide to me." The son of Abdelaziz appeared grieved at this speech of the caliph's. "I am sorry, my lord," he said, "that you have conceived this curiosity; I cannot satisfy it but upon very disagreeable conditions." "Never mind," said the prince, "whatever the conditions, I submit without repugnance." "It is necessary," said Aboulcassem, "that I blindfold your eyes, and conduct you unarmed and bareheaded, with my drawn scimitar in my hand, ready to cut you to pieces at any moment, if you violate the laws of hospitality. I know very well I am acting imprudently, and ought not to yield to your wishes; but I rely on your promised secrecy, and besides that, I cannot bear to send away a guest dissatisfied." "In pity then satisfy my curiosity," said the caliph. "That cannot be just yet," replied the young man, "but remain here this night, and when my domestics are gone to rest I will come and conduct you from your apartment." He then called his people, and by the light of a number of wax tapers, carried by slaves in gold flambeaux, he led the prince to a magnificent chamber, and then retired to his own. The slaves disrobed the caliph, and left him to repose, after placing at the head and foot of his bed their lighted tapers, whose perfumed wax emitted an agreeable odour. Instead of taking any rest, Haroun-al-Raschid impatiently awaited the appearance of Aboulcassem, who did not fail to come for him towards the middle of the night. "My lord," he said, "all my servants are asleep. A profound silence reigns in my house. I will now show you my treasure upon the conditions I named to you." "Let us go then," said the caliph. "I am ready to follow you, and I again swear that you will not repent thus satisfying my curiosity." The son of Abdelaziz aided the prince to dress; then putting a bandage over his eyes, he said, "I am sorry, my lord, to be obliged to treat you thus; your appearance and your manners seem worthy of confidence, but--" "I approve of these precautions," interrupted the caliph, "and I do not take them in ill part." Aboulcassem then made him descend by a winding staircase into a garden of vast extent, and after many turnings they entered the place where the treasure was concealed. It was a deep and spacious cavern closed at the entrance by a stone. Passing through this they entered a long alley, very dark and steep, at the end of which was a large saloon, brilliantly lighted by carbuncles. When they arrived at this room the young man unbound the caliph's eyes, and the latter gazed with astonishment on the scene before him. A basin of white marble, fifty feet in circumference and thirty feet deep, stood in the middle of the apartment. It was full of large pieces of gold, and ranged round it were twelve columns of the same metal, supporting as many statues composed of precious stones of admirable workmanship. Aboulcassem conducted the prince to the edge of the basin and said to him, "This basin is thirty feet deep. Look at that mass of gold pieces. They are scarcely diminished the depth of two fingers. Do you think I shall soon spend all this?" Haroun, after attentively looking at the basin, replied: "Here are, I confess, immense riches, but you still may exhaust them." "Well," said the young man, "when this basin is empty I shall have recourse to what I am now going to show you." He then proceeded to another room, more brilliant still, where on a number of red brocaded sofas were immense quantities of pearls and diamonds. Here was also another marble basin, not so large or so deep as that filled with gold pieces, but to make up for this, full of rubies, topazes, emeralds, and all sorts of precious stones. Never was surprise equal to that of the caliph's. He could scarcely believe he was awake, this new basin seemed like enchantment. His gaze was still fixed on it, when Aboulcassem made him observe two persons seated on a throne of gold, who he said were the first masters of the treasure. They were a prince and princess, having on their heads crowns of diamonds. They appeared as if still alive, and were in a reclining posture, their heads leaning against each other. At their feet was a table of ebony, on which were written these words in letters of gold: "I have amassed all these riches during the course of a long life. I have taken and pillaged towns and castles, have conquered kingdoms and overthrown my enemies. I have been the most powerful monarch in the world, but all my power has yielded to that of death. Whoever sees me in this state ought to reflect upon it. Let him remember that once I was living, and that he also must die. He need not fear diminishing this treasure: it will never be exhausted. Let him endeavour so to use it as to make friends both for this world and the next. Let him lead a life of generosity and charity, for in the end he must also die. His riches cannot save him from the fate common to all men." "I will no longer disapprove of your conduct," said Haroun to the young man on reading these words; "you are right in living as you now do, and I condemn the advice given you by the old merchant. But I should like to know the name of this prince. What king could have possessed such riches? I am sorry this inscription does not inform us." The young man next took the caliph to see another room in which also there were many rarities of even greater value than what he had seen, amongst others several trees like the one he had given the prince. Haroun would willingly have passed the remainder of the night admiring all that was contained in this wonderful cavern, but the son of Abdelaziz, fearing to be observed by his servants, wished to return before daybreak in the same manner as they came, namely, the caliph blindfolded and bareheaded, and Aboulcassem with his scimitar in his hand, ready to cut off the prince's head if he made the least resistance. In this order they traversed the garden, and ascended by the winding stairs to the room where the caliph had slept. Finding the tapers still burning, they conversed together till sunrise; the caliph then, with many thanks for the reception he had received, returned to the caravansary, from whence he took the road to Bagdad, with all the domestics and presents he had accepted from Aboulcassem. Two days after the prince's departure, the vizir Aboulfatah, hearing of the magnificent gifts that Aboulcassem made to strangers when they came to see him, and above all astonished at the regularity of his payments to the king, the lieutenant, and himself, resolved to spare no means to discover the treasure from which he drew such inexhaustible supplies. This minister was one of those wicked men to whom the greatest crimes are nothing, when they wish to gain their own ends. He had a daughter eighteen years of age, and of surpassing beauty. She was named Balkis, and possessed every good quality of heart and mind. Prince Aly, nephew of the king of Basra, passionately loved her; he had already demanded her of her father, and they were soon to be married. Aboulfatah summoned Balkis one day to his presence and said: "My daughter, I have great need of your assistance. I wish you to array yourself in your richest robes, and go this evening to the house of the young Aboulcassem. You must do every thing to charm him, and oblige him to discover the treasure he has found." Balkis trembled at this speech; her countenance expressed the horror she felt at this command. "My lord," said she, "what is it you propose to your daughter? Do you know the peril to which you may expose her? Consider the stain on your honour, and the outrage against the prince Aly." "I have considered all this," answered the vizir, "but nothing will turn me from my resolution, and I order you to prepare to obey me." The young Balkis burst into tears at these words. "For heaven's sake, my father," said the weeping girl, "stifle this feeling of avarice, seek not to despoil this man of what is his own. Leave him to enjoy his riches in peace." "Be silent, insolent girl!" said the vizir angrily, "it does not become you to blame my actions. Answer me not. I desire you to repair to the house of Aboulcassem, and I swear that if you return without having seen his treasure, I will kill you." Balkis, hearing this dreadful alternative, retired to her apartment overwhelmed with grief; she called her women, and made them attire her in the richest apparel and most costly ornaments, though in reality she needed nothing to enhance her natural beauty. No young girl was less desirous to please than Balkis. All she feared was appearing too beautiful in the eyes of the son of Abdelaziz, and not sufficiently so to prince Aly. At length, when night arrived and Aboulfatah judged it time for his daughter to go, he secretly conducted her to the door of the young man's house, where he left her, after again declaring he would kill her if she returned unsuccessful. She timidly knocked and desired to speak to the son of Abdelaziz. A slave led her to a room where his master was reposing on a sofa, musing on the vicissitudes of his past life. As soon as Balkis appeared Aboulcassem rose to receive his visitor; he gravely saluted her, and, taking her hand with a respectful air, seated her on a sofa, at the same time inquiring why she honoured him by this visit. She answered, that hearing of his agreeable manners, she had resolved to spend an evening in his company. "Beautiful lady," said he, "I must thank my lucky star for procuring me this delightful interview; I cannot express my happiness." After some conversation supper was announced. They seated themselves at a table covered with choice delicacies. A great number of officers and pages were in attendance, but Aboulcassem dismissed them that the lady might not be exposed to their curious looks. He waited on her himself, presenting her with the best of every thing, and offering her wine in a gold cup enriched with diamonds and rubies. But all these polite attentions served but to increase the lady's uneasiness; and at length, frightened at the dangers which menaced her, she suddenly changed countenance and became pale as death, whilst her eyes filled with tears. "What is it, madam?" said the young man much surprised; "why this sudden grief? Have I said or done any thing to cause your tears to flow? Speak, I implore you; inform me of the cause of your sorrow." "Oh, Mahomet!" exclaimed Balkis, "I can dissimulate no longer; the part I am acting is insupportable. I have deceived you, Aboulcassem; I am a lady of rank. My father, who knows you have a hidden treasure, wishes me to discover where you have concealed it. He has ordered me to come here and spare no means to induce you to show it me. I refused to do so, but he has sworn to kill me if I return without being able to satisfy his curiosity. What an unhappy fate is mine! If I was not beloved by a prince who will soon marry me, this cruel vow of my father's would not appear so terrible." When the daughter of Aboulfatah had thus spoken, Aboulcassem said to her, "Madam, I am very glad you have informed me of this. You will not repent your noble frankness; you shall see my treasure, and be treated with all the respect you may desire. Do not weep, therefore, or any longer afflict yourself." "Ah, my lord," exclaimed Balkis at this speech, "it is not without reason that you pass for the most generous of men. I am charmed with your noble conduct, and shall not be satisfied until I have found means to testify my gratitude." After this conversation Aboulcassem conducted the lady to the same chamber that the caliph had occupied, where they remained until all was quiet in the dwelling. Then blindfolding the eyes of Balkis he said, "Pardon me, madam, for being obliged to act thus, but it is only on this condition that I can show you my treasure." "Do what you please, my lord," answered Balkis; "I have so much confidence in your generosity that I will follow wherever you desire; I have no fear but that of not sufficiently repaying your kindness." Aboulcassem then took her by the hand, and causing her to descend to the garden by the winding stairs, he entered the cavern and removed the bandage from her eyes. If the caliph had been surprised to see such heaps of gold and precious stones, Balkis was still more so. Every thing she saw astonished her. But the objects that most attracted her attention were the ancient owners of the treasure. As the queen had on a necklace composed of pearls as large as pigeons' eggs, Balkis could not avoid expressing her admiration. Aboulcassem detached it from the neck of the princess, and placed it round that of the young lady, saying her father would judge from this that she had seen the treasure; he then, after much persuasion, made her take a large quantity of precious stones which he himself chose for her. The young man then, fearing the day would dawn whilst she was looking at the wonders of the cavern, again placed the bandage over her eyes, and conducted her to a saloon where they conversed together until sunrise. Balkis then took leave, repeatedly assuring the son of Abdelaziz that she would never forget his generous conduct. She hastened to her father's and informed him of all that had passed. The vizir had been impatiently awaiting his daughter's return. Fearing she might not be sufficiently able to charm Aboulcassem, he remained in a state of inconceivable agitation. But when he saw her enter with the necklace and precious stones that Aboulcassem had given her, he was transported with joy. "Well, my daughter," he said, "have you seen the treasure?" "Yes, my lord," answered Balkis, "and to give you a just idea of its magnitude, I tell you that if all the kings of the world were to unite their riches, they could not be compared to those of Aboulcassem. But still, however vast this young man's treasures, I am less charmed with them than with his politeness and generosity." And she then related to her father the whole of her adventure. In the mean time Haroun-al-Raschid was advancing towards Bagdad. As soon as he arrived at his palace he set his chief vizir at liberty, and restored him to his confidence. He then proceeded to relate to him the events of his journey, and ended by asking, "Giafar, what shall I do? You know the gratitude of monarchs ought to surpass the pleasures they have received. If I should send the magnificent Aboulcassem the choicest and most precious treasure I possess, it will be but a slight gift, far inferior to the presents he has made me. How then can I surpass him in generosity?" "My lord," replied the vizir, "since your majesty condescends to consult me, I should write this day to the king of Basra and order him to commit the government of the state to the young Aboulcassem. We can soon despatch the courier, and in a few days I will depart myself to Basra and present the patents to the new king." The caliph approved of this advice. "You are right," he said to his minister, "it will be the only means of acquitting myself towards Aboulcassem, and of taking vengeance on the king of Basra and his unworthy vizir, who have concealed from me the considerable sums they have extorted from this young man. It is but just to punish them for their violence against him; they are unworthy of the situations they occupy." He immediately wrote to the king of Basra and despatched the courier. He then went to the apartment of the princess Zobeide to inform her of the success of his journey, and presented her with the little page, the tree, and the peacock. He also gave her a beautiful female slave. Zobeide found this slave so charming that she smilingly told the caliph she accepted this gift with more pleasure than all his other presents. The prince kept only the cup for himself; the vizir Giafar had all the rest; and this good minister, as he had before resolved, made preparations for his departure from Bagdad. The courier of the caliph no sooner arrived in the town of Basra than he hastened to present his despatch to the king, who was greatly concerned on reading it. The prince showed it to his vizir. "Aboulfatah," said he, "see the fatal order that I have received from the commander of the faithful. Can I refuse to obey it?" "Yes, my lord," answered the minister; "do not afflict yourself. Aboulcassem must be removed from hence. Without taking his life I will make every one believe he is dead. I can keep him so well concealed that he shall never be seen again; and by this means you will always remain on the throne and possess the riches of this young man; for when we are masters of his person we can increase his sufferings until he is obliged to reveal where his treasure is concealed." "Do what you like," replied the king; "but what answer shall we send the caliph?" "Leave that to me. The commander of the faithful will be deceived as well as others. Let me execute the design I meditate, and the rest need cause you no uneasiness." Aboulfatah then, accompanied by some courtiers who were ignorant of his intention, went to pay a visit to Aboulcassem. He received them according to their rank, regaled them magnificently, seated the vizir in the place of honour, and loaded him with presents without having the least suspicion of his perfidy. Whilst they were at table and partaking of the most delicious wines, the treacherous Aboulfatah skilfully threw unperceived into the cup of the son of Abdelaziz a powder which would render him insensible, and cause his body to remain in a state of lethargy resembling that of a corpse long deprived of life. The young man had no sooner taken the cup from his lips than he fainted away. His servants hastened to support him, but soon perceiving he had all the appearance of a dead man, they placed him on a sofa and uttered the most lamentable cries. The guests, struck with sudden terror, were silent from astonishment. As for Aboulfatah, it is impossible to say how well he dissimulated. He not only feigned the most immoderate grief, but tore his clothes and excited the rest of the company to follow his example. He ordered a coffin to be made of ivory and ebony, and while they were preparing it, he collected all the effects of Aboulcassem and placed them in the king's palace. The account of the young man's death soon spread abroad. All persons, men and women, put on mourning, and came to the door of the house, their heads and feet bare; old and young men, women and girls, were bathed in tears, filling the air with their cries and lamentations. Some said they had lost in him an only son, others a brother or a husband tenderly beloved. Rich and poor were equally afflicted at his death; the rich mourned a friend who had always welcomed them, and the poor a benefactor whose charity had never been equalled. His death caused a general consternation. Meanwhile the unhappy Aboulcassem was enclosed in the coffin, and a procession having been formed, the people, by order of Aboulfatah, carried him out of the town to a large cemetery containing a number of tombs, and amongst others a magnificent one where reposed the vizir's father and many others of his family. They placed the coffin in this tomb, and the perfidious Aboulfatah, leaning his head on his knees, beat his breast, and gave way apparently to the most violent grief. Those present pitied and prayed heaven to console him. As night approached the people returned to the town, but the vizir remained with two of his slaves in the tomb, the door of which he shut and double locked. They lit a fire, warmed some water in a silver basin, and taking Aboulcassem from the coffin, bathed him with the warm water. The young man by degrees regained his senses. He cast his eyes on Aboulfatah, whom he at once recognized. "Ah, my lord," said he, "where are we, and to what state am I reduced?" "Wretch!" answered the minister, "know that it is I who have caused your misfortune. I brought you here to have you in my power, and to make you suffer a thousand torments if you will not discover to me your treasure. I will rack your body with tortures--will invent each day new sufferings to render life insupportable: in a word, I will never cease to persecute you until you deliver me those hidden treasures which enable you to live with even more magnificence than kings." "You can do what you please," replied Aboulcassem; "I will never reveal my treasure." He had scarcely uttered these words, when the cruel Aboulfatah, making his slaves seize the unfortunate son of Abdelaziz, drew from his robe a whip made of twisted lion's skin, with which he struck so long and with such violence that the young man fainted. When the vizir saw him in this state, he commanded the slaves to replace him in the coffin, and leaving him in the tomb, which he firmly secured, returned to his palace. On the morrow he went to inform the king of what he had done. "Sire," said he, "I tried yesterday, but in vain, to overcome the firmness of Aboulcassem; however, I have now prepared torments for him which I think he cannot resist." The prince, who was quite as barbarous as his minister, said, "Vizir, I am perfectly satisfied with all you have done. Ere long, I hope, we shall know where this treasure is concealed. But we must send back the courier without delay. What shall I write to the caliph?" "Tell him, my lord, that Aboulcassem, hearing he was to occupy your place, was so enchanted, and made such great rejoicings, that he died suddenly at a feast." The king approved of this advice, and writing immediately to Haroun-al-Raschid, despatched the courier. The vizir, flattering himself that he should at length be able to force Aboulcassem to reveal his treasure, left the town, resolving to extract the secret or leave him to perish. But on arriving at the tomb, he was surprised to find the door open. He entered trembling, and not seeing the son of Abdelaziz in the coffin, he nearly lost his senses. Returning instantly to the palace, he related to the king what had occurred. The monarch, seized with a mortal terror, exclaimed, "Oh, Waschi! what will become of us? Since this young man has escaped, we are lost. He will not fail to hasten to Bagdad, and acquaint the caliph with all that has taken place." Aboulfatah, on his part, in despair that the victim of his avarice was no longer in his power, said to the king his master, "What would I now give to have taken his life yesterday! He would not then have caused us such uneasiness. But we will not quite despair yet; if he has taken flight, as no doubt he has, he cannot be very far from here. Let me take some soldiers of your guard, and search in all the environs of the town; I hope still to find him." The king instantly consented to so important a step. He assembled all his soldiers, and dividing them into two bodies, gave the command of one to his vizir, and placing himself at the head of the other, prepared with his troops to search in all parts of his kingdom. Whilst they were seeking Aboulcassem in the villages, woods, and mountains, the vizir Giafar, who was already on the road to Basra, met the courier returning, who said to him, "My lord, it is useless for you to proceed further, if Aboulcassem is the sole cause of your journey, for this young man is dead; his funeral took place some days past; my eyes were witnesses of the mournful ceremony." Giafar, who had looked forward with pleasure to see the new king, and present his patents, was much afflicted at his death. He shed tears on hearing the sad news, and, thinking it was useless to continue his journey, retraced his steps. As soon as he arrived at Bagdad, he went with the courier to the palace. The sadness of his countenance informed the king he had some misfortune to announce. "Ah, Giafar!" exclaimed the prince, "you have soon returned. What are you come to tell me?' "Commander of the faithful," answered the vizir, "you do not, I am sure, expect to hear the bad news I am going to tell. Aboulcassem is no more; since your departure from Basra the young man has lost his life." Haroun-al-Raschid had no sooner heard these words than he threw himself from his throne. He remained some moments extended on the ground without giving any signs of life. At length his eyes sought the courier, who had returned from Basra, and he asked for the despatch. The prince read it with much attention. He shut himself in his cabinet with Giafar, and showed him the letter from the king of Basra. After re-reading it many times, the caliph said, "This does not appear to me natural; I begin to suspect that the king of Basra and his vizir, instead of executing my orders, have put Aboulcassem to death." "My lord," said Giafar, "the same suspicion occurred to me, and I advise that they should both be secured." "That is what I determine from this moment," said Haroun; "take ten thousand horsemen of my guard, march to Basra, seize the two guilty wretches, and bring them here. I will revenge the death of this most generous of men." "We will now return to the son of Abdelaziz, and relate why the vizir Aboulfatah did not find him in the tomb. The young man, after long remaining insensible, was beginning to recover, when he felt himself laid hold of by powerful arms, taken from the coffin, and gently laid on the earth. He thought it was the vizir and his slaves come again on their cruel errand. "Executioners!" he cried, "put me to death at once; if you have any pity spare me these useless torments, for again I declare that nothing you can do will ever tempt me to reveal my secret." "Fear not, young man," answered one of the persons who had lifted him from the coffin; "instead of ill-treating you, we are come to your assistance." At these words Aboulcassem opened his eyes, and, looking at his liberators, recognized the young lady to whom he had shown his treasure. "Ah, madam!" he said, "is it to you I owe my life?" "Yes, my lord," answered Balkis; "to myself and prince Aly, my betrothed, whom you see with me. Informed of your noble behaviour, he wished to share with me the pleasure of delivering you from death." "It is quite true," said prince Aly; "I would expose my life a thousand times, rather than leave so generous a man to perish." The son of Abdelaziz, having entirely recovered his senses by the help of some cordials they had given him, expressed to the lady and the prince his grateful thanks for the service they had rendered him, and asked how they had been informed he still lived. "My lord," said Balkis, "I am the daughter of the vizir Aboulfatah. I was not deceived by the false report of your death. I suspected my father in this affair, and, bribing one of his slaves, was informed of all concerning you. This slave is one of the two who were with him in the tomb, and as he had charge of the key he confided it to me for a few hours. I no sooner made this affair known to prince Aly than he hastened to join me with some of his confidential domestics. We lost not a moment in coming hither, and, thanks be to heaven, we did not arrive too late." "Oh, Mahomet!" said Aboulcassem, "is it possible so unworthy and cruel a father possesses such a daughter?" "Let us depart, my lord," said prince Aly; "the time is precious. I doubt not but that to-morrow the vizir, finding you have escaped, will seek you in all directions. I am going to conduct you to my house, where you will be in perfect safety, for no one will suspect me of giving you an asylum." They then covered Aboulcassem with a slave's robe, and all left the tomb. Balkis proceeded to her father's, and returned the key to the slave, whilst prince Aly took the son of Abdelaziz to his own palace, and kept him so well concealed, that it was impossible his enemies could discover him. Aboulcassem remained some time in prince Aly's house, who treated him most kindly, until the king and his vizir, despairing of finding him, gave up their search. The prince then gave him a very beautiful horse, loaded him with sequins and precious stones, and said to him: "You can now safely depart; the roads are open, and your enemies know not what is become of you. Hasten to seek a place where you will be secure from harm." The young man thanked this generous prince for his hospitality, and assured him he should ever gratefully remember it. Prince Aly embraced him, and prayed heaven to protect and watch over him on his journey. Aboulcassem then took the road to Bagdad, and arrived there in safety a few days afterwards. The first thing he did on entering the city was to hasten to the place where the merchants usually assembled. The hope of seeing there some one he had known at Basra, and of relating his misfortunes, was his only consolation. He was vexed at being unable to find this place, and traversing the town, sought in vain for the face of a friend amongst the multitudes he met. Feeling fatigued, he stopped before the caliph's palace to rest a little: the page whom he had given to his former guest was then at a window, and the child looking by chance that way, instantly recognized him. He ran to the caliph's apartment. "My lord," he exclaimed, "I have just seen my old master from Basra!" Haroun put no faith in this report. "You are mistaken," he said; "Aboulcassem no longer lives. Deceived by some fancied resemblance, you have taken another for him." "No, no, commander of the faithful; I assure you it is he: I am certain I am not mistaken." Though the caliph did not believe this assertion, still he wished to fathom the mystery, and sent one of his officers with the page to see the man the boy declared was the son of Abdelaziz. They found him in the same place, for, imagining he had recognized his little page, he waited till the child reappeared at the window. When the boy was convinced he was not deceived, he threw himself at the feet of Aboulcassem, who raised him, and asked if he had the honour of belonging to the caliph. "Yes, my lord," said the child; "it was to the commander of the faithful himself--he it was whom you entertained at Basra--it was to him that you gave me. Come with me, my lord; the caliph will be delighted to see you." The surprise of the young man at this speech was extreme. He allowed himself to be conducted into the palace by the page and the officer, and was soon ushered into the apartment of Haroun. The prince was seated on a sofa. He was extremely affected at the sight of Aboulcassem. He hastened towards the young man, and held him long embraced without uttering a word, so much was he transported with joy. When he recovered a little from his emotion he said to the son of Abdelaziz: "Young man, open your eyes, and recognize your happy guest. It was I whom you received so hospitably, and to whom you gave presents that kings could not equal." At these words Aboulcassem, who was not less moved than the caliph, and who from respect had drawn his cloak over his head, and had not yet dared to look up, now uncovered his face, and said: "Oh, my sovereign master! oh, king of the world, was it you who honoured your slave's house?" And he threw himself at the feet of Haroun, and kissed the floor before him. "How is it," said the prince, raising him, and placing him on a sofa, "that you are still alive? Tell me all that has happened to you." [Illustration: ABOULCASSEM AND THE PAGE, p. 246.] Aboulcassem then related the cruelties of Aboulfatah, and how he had been preserved from the fury of that vizir. Haroun listened attentively, and then said: "Aboulcassem, I am the cause of your misfortunes. On my return to Bagdad, wishing to repay my debt to you, I sent a courier to the king of Basra, desiring him to resign his crown to you. Instead of executing my orders, he resolved to take your life. Aboulfatah, by putting you to the most frightful tortures, hoped to induce you to reveal your treasures; that was the sole reason he delayed your death. But you would have been revenged. Giafar, with a large body of my troops, is gone to Basra. I have given him orders to seize your two persecutors, and to bring them here. In the mean time you shall remain in my palace, and be attended by my officers with as much respect as myself." After this speech he took the young man by the hand, and made him descend to a garden, filled with the choicest flowers. There he saw basins of marble, porphyry, and jasper, which served for reservoirs to multitudes of beautiful fish. In the midst of the garden, supported upon twelve lofty pillars of black marble, was a dome, the roof of sandal wood and aloes. The spaces between the columns were closed by a double trellis-work of gold, which formed an aviary containing thousands of canaries of different colours, nightingales, linnets, and other harmonious birds, who mingling their notes formed the most charming concert. The baths of Haroun-al-Raschid were under this dome. The prince and his guest took a bath, after which the attendants rubbed them with the finest towels, which had never before been used. They then clothed Aboulcassem in rich apparel. The caliph conducted him to a chamber where refreshments awaited them, such as roasted fowls and lamb, white soups, pomegranates from Amlas and Ziri, pears from Exhali, grapes from Melah and Sevise, and apples from Ispahan. After they had partaken of these delicacies, and drunk some delicious wine, the caliph conducted Aboulcassem to Zobeide's apartment. This princess was seated on a throne of gold, surrounded by her slaves, who were ranged standing on each side of her; some had tambourines, others flutes and harps. At that moment their instruments were mute, all being attentively engaged in listening to a young girl whose charming voice rang through the saloon like the warblings of a nightingale. As soon as Zobeide perceived the caliph and the son of Abdelaziz, she descended from her throne to receive them. "Madam," said Haroun, "allow me to present to you my host of Basra." The young man prostrated himself before the princess. At this moment the vizir Giafar was heard returning with the troops, and bringing with him Aboulfatah securely bound. As for the king of Basra, he was left behind dying of grief and fright at not finding Aboulcassem. Giafar had no sooner rendered an account of his mission, than the caliph ordered a scaffold to be erected before the palace, to which the wicked Aboulfatah was conducted. The people knowing the cruelty of this vizir, instead of being touched with his misfortune, testified the utmost impatience to witness his execution. The executioner was already prepared, sabre in hand, to strike off the guilty man's head, when the son of Abdelaziz prostrating himself before the caliph, exclaimed, "Oh, commander of the faithful, yield to my prayers the life of Aboulfatah! Let him live to witness my happiness, to behold all the favours you are conferring upon me, and he will be sufficiently punished." "Oh, too generous Aboulcassem," replied the caliph, "you, indeed, deserve a crown! Happy the people of Basra to have you for their king." "My lord, I have one more favour to ask. Give to the prince Aly the throne you destined for myself. Let him reign, together with the lady who had the generosity to avert from me the fury of her father; these two lovers are worthy this honour. As to myself, cherished and protected by the commander of the faithful, I have no need of a crown; I shall be superior to kings." The caliph assented to this proposal, and to recompense prince Aly for the service he had rendered the son of Abdelaziz, sent him the patents, and made him king of Basra; but finding Aboulfatah too guilty to accord him liberty as well as life, he ordered the vizir to be shut up in a dark tower for the remainder of his days. When the people of Bagdad were informed that it was Aboulcassem himself who had begged the life of his persecutor, they showered a thousand praises on the generous young man, who soon after departed for Basra, escorted by a troop of the caliph's guards, and a great number of his officers. VIII. THE OLD CAMEL. Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, a merchant at Miliana, was a mere lover of gain; he never gave away any thing in alms; his heart was dry as the earth in the hottest days of summer, and never open to pity for the unfortunate. To amass, to amass for ever was the sole desire of Eggadi. But in what did his riches consist? None could say, for he concealed them with the utmost care. One day one of his camels having died, he bought to replace it the only camel of Ali-Bénala, a poor dealer in mats. This camel was the sole heritage of which Ali came into possession at the death of his father. He sold it for much less than its value;--Eggadi, who was an adept at bargaining, depreciating it in every possible way, especially on account of its extreme age. On his next journey Eggadi added this camel to his little caravan. As he was passing a solitary place, he was surprised to see the camel betake itself with hasty steps to a spot at some distance behind some rocks, and on its arrival there kneel down and groan, as camels usually do when they expect to be unloaded. A negro, having run after the animal, brought it back to its place in the caravan. Eggadi soon took a second journey on the same road, and on this occasion too the camel sold him by Ali-Bénala again quitted the rank, and was again observed to kneel down and groan at the same place. This time Eggadi followed it, and saw with surprise that the spot at which it stopped was one where no merchant of any country had been ever known to unload his merchandise. He reflected deeply on this circumstance, and in the end resolved to revisit the spot alone with the camel, who, faithful perhaps to some recollection, might, he thought, be the means of disclosing to him some mysterious act, or perhaps the place where a treasure lay concealed. Eggadi returned, in short, soon after, to this solitary spot. He had brought with him a spade, and proceeded to dig with care around the camel, who had invariably knelt in the same place. He had scarcely laboured ten minutes ere he discovered traces of another spade; this redoubled his zeal, and soon after, to his intense satisfaction, he came upon some bags of money, then a coffer firmly shut, but which contained, he could not doubt, objects of costly value. He first took the bags, which were filled with good and true Spanish doubloons; with these he loaded his camel, who thus had gained nothing but a double burden for his pains; then, having re-covered with stones and sand the precious coffer, which he resolved upon examining another time, he returned with his mind greatly preoccupied, asking himself whether it must not have been the old father of Ali-Bénala to whom all the wealth he had just discovered formerly belonged. This question, which he could not help addressing to his conscience over and over again, prevented him from fully enjoying the possession of his treasure. Although he dearly loved money, yet Eggadi to obtain possession of it had never yet plundered the widow and the orphan. The first step in the road to evil is not accomplished without difficulty and without remorse; Eggadi painfully experienced the truth of this. "And yet," said he to himself, "I made a fair bargain with poor Ali for this very camel which has been the means of my finding a treasure." Before going to take possession of the coffer left underground behind the rocks, Eggadi, impelled by his conscience, approached the miserable shop where Ali carried on the sale of his mats, and said to him: "How comes it, Ali, that your father, rich as it is said he was, left you no fortune, only an old camel and a house in ruins?" "Ah!" replied Ali, "my father was good to the poor. Not only did he call every poor man his brother, but assisted him to the utmost of his power. At times, however, I have suspected that my father may have had riches concealed in some spot, and that he intended to bestow them upon me before he died. And I will tell you what led me to suppose so. "A few moments before his death he sent for me, and said: 'I have a great secret to confide to thee. Come close to me that my voice may reach thy ear alone: but before our conversation, my son, let us pray to Allah to grant us on this solemn day that which is best for us.' "We prayed, and in ten minutes my father was no more. Allah, no doubt, judged that that which was best for me was poverty. Allah be praised." Ali bowed his head profoundly, laying his hand upon his breast. Eggadi, much disturbed at the virtuous resignation of Ali-Bénala, rejoined: "But thinkest thou, that if good fortune befel thee, thou wouldst know how to make good use of it?" "Allah alone knows," said Ali. "Should he ever see fit to make me rich, he will know how to fit me for the change. For myself, I cannot succeed in improving the poverty of my estate. I work incessantly, but nothing succeeds with me. My oxen, if I have any, drown themselves in crossing a torrent; my goods either do not sell or are damaged. I am destined to possess upon this earth nothing but this miserable hut, which has been my only home for ten years, But what matters it, provided I fulfil the law of the prophet? I shall see Abraham, in heaven. If at times my poverty renders me uneasy, it is only for the sake of my poor children, who live miserably in a house as open to the wind and the rain as though it were without a roof." "Well," said Eggadi, "it is certainly not just that such an honest man as thou should be in such a wretched state of poverty." "How! not just!" replied Ali. "Are there not, then, many honest men who are no richer than myself?" "That may be," said Eggadi. "Nevertheless, since thy father was rich, it seems to be but just that thou shouldst be so too, and I come to propose to thee to enter into partnership with me. I have two good houses outside the town; one shall be for thy family, the other for mine. We will live as brothers, and unite our children as in the time of the patriarchs." Ali remained greatly astonished at such a proposition, coming especially from Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, who had never had any friendship for him, and who so far from evincing any generosity towards him, had bargained with him for his poor camel like the veriest Jew in the world. He therefore remained silent, neither accepting nor refusing the offer, but looking with an abstracted air upon the mats in his miserable dwelling. "Well," said Eggadi, ashamed at the bottom of his heart at making this show of generosity to one whom he was secretly despoiling, "well, thou dost not reply to me?" "Grant me time to imitate the example of my father by invoking Allah before taking a resolution," said Ali. "Allah alone can know whether it will be best for me to keep at once my poverty and the freedom of all my actions, or to accept opulence and with it the necessity of being always of thy opinion; for bringing into our partnership nothing but my two stout arms, I should be an ingrate if I did not yield in every thing to thy wishes." Eggadi involuntarily cast down his eyes before this poor man who spoke with so much wisdom. "Well," said he again, "reflect till to-morrow, and come to me in the morning under the palm trees in front of my house; I will there await thee." Then these two men separated. Ali, praying in the mosque, thought he heard his father pronounce these words. "Never associate thyself save with him who has no more than thyself, and who already knows the right way. The good are spoilt by associating with the rogue and the miser, whilst neither rogue nor miser is reformed by association with one better than himself." The next morning Ali repaired to the palm trees which grew before the house of Eggadi, where the latter awaited him uneasy and fatigued after a sleepless night. After the usual Mussulman salutation, Ali-Bénala said to the rich Eggadi: "How comes it that thou appearest sad, thou who possessest fine houses, coffers of gold, and merchandise, whilst I, I who have nothing, rise with a joyous heart, and smoke my pipe all day with pleasure, seated on the threshold of my poor shop?" "The weight of business overwhelms me," replied Eggadi; "I have great need of some one to share it." "Then why not diminish thy transactions, and live in peace?" inquired Ali. "No, no, it is impossible to set limits to one's purchases and sales. A fortunate speculation balances an unlucky one. You must accept all if you would grow rich. But come, hast thou decided? Wilt thou enter into partnership with me?" "I have reflected and prayed," said Ali. "I am very grateful for thy offers, and Allah will doubtless recompense thee; but prudence forbids me to accept them. I will never enter into partnership but with one who is as poor as myself." "Indeed!" exclaimed Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, "be no longer then surprised at thy poverty, since thou refusest the opportunity of enriching thyself. The traveller who does not stop beneath the first trees he meets runs the risk of not finding another upon his road, and of performing the whole journey without enjoying their refreshing shade. Such a man would have no right to complain of the dust of the roads, or the heat of the sun." "I do not complain," replied Ali, "I come, on the contrary, to tell thee that I live and sleep in peace." "It is well, it is well," said Eggadi, who had not closed his eyes till the morning, "it is well, remain as thou art. Instead of gold pieces, be content to receive rain-drops through thy roof, eat bread when thou hast any, and go fasting oftener; it concerns me no more." "I should be a fool," added he internally, "to trouble myself any longer about the poverty of this man." And he remembered his fine house, where gilded cakes, a delicious repast, and rich and rare fruits awaited him. He ate his meal in company with his sons; then he washed his beard and hands, rose from the table, and called his wife, his daughters, his mother, and his grandmother, and said to them, "Women, eat in your turn; this is for you." The women respectfully kissed his hands, and proceeded to make their meal, whilst he went and sat down out of doors, and smoked with his sons, to whom he spoke as follows whilst a negro waited upon him with coffee: "I am about to take another journey. During my absence see to such and such things, and do not forget any of my orders, if you would not run the risk of becoming poor, poor--" he was going to say, "as Ali, the seller of mats," but this name excited too keenly his remorse; he could not venture to pronounce it. So that in spite of the good repast of which he had just partaken, Eggadi felt ill at ease, for the thought was ever recurring to him, "Ali is poor, his father was rich, and it is I who have unjustly taken possession of his father's wealth." Meanwhile Eggadi had this very moderate relief, he might still enjoy the benefit of a doubt as to whether the father of Ali was really the possessor of the discovered treasures. However, the coffer left behind the rocks would doubtless throw a light upon this matter. Eggadi proceeded at once in search of this coffer; he opened it, and his eyes, dazzled though they were by the precious objects that met their gaze, were constrained to perceive at the same time a sheet of parchment, upon which the following words were very distinctly inscribed: "All the treasures buried in this spot have been lawfully acquired, or received in heritage by me, Mustapha Selim. I bequeath them to my only son, Ali-Bénala, who has ever been a faithful servant of Allah, and respectful towards me. May he, and his children, and his children's children inherit and enjoy these possessions, to which I add my benediction." As soon as Eggadi had read these words a profound sadness took possession of him, for he could no longer doubt that these hidden riches were the inheritance of Ali-Bénala. If therefore he appropriated them, he was a despoiler of the poor and the orphan. It would have been so delightful to have been able to keep up the illusion, and to say to himself: "This wealth was without an owner; Allah has been pleased to bestow it on me!" But if Eggadi had never as yet committed any very culpable actions, he had never done any good ones, and did not merit the protection of heaven. He dared not doubt that by keeping unlawful possession of the property of Ali he should incur the wrath of heaven; at the same time he could not bring himself to renounce it. He took the coffer, carried it home, meditating by turns on the uses to which he might turn his great fortune, and on what might be done by way of compromising his conscience for poor Ali, his children, and his children's children. Arrived at his own house, he placed his treasures in a large chest, which he kept thenceforth in the chamber where he passed his nights. By day, too, this coffer often served him for a seat; whilst scarce a day passed without his opening it, to assure himself that nothing had disappeared. He kept it carefully fastened with the aid of several locks and a master key, of which he never gave up the possession. Eggadi contemplated a thousand times these treasures acquired with so little trouble; if we can call that gained with little trouble which is purchased at the price of our peace of mind. And each time after having contemplated them, he would repeat to himself the words of Ali, "Allah will no doubt recompense thee." "Ah! if he recompenses me as I deserve," he could not help reflecting, "he will send me great disasters indeed." Pursued by the dread of a heavy chastisement, Eggadi became so miserable in the midst of his fine family and his treasures, that he formed the project of quitting his country, where the sight of Ali, his humble house and miserable shop, haunted him incessantly. So he adjusted his affairs, collected his merchandise, and then communicated his intention to his children and his servants. But whilst, spurred on by a secret terror, he was hastening the preparations for his departure, Allah, on whose will depend all things on earth and in heaven, visited him with a severe fever, accompanied with delirium, during which he spoke incessantly of the old camel of Ali, of concealed treasures, and the vengeance of Heaven. Salmanazar, an old Jew doctor, had charge of Eggadi; he heard the incoherent ravings of his patient, and immediately divined them to be the result of preceding mental anguish. Thanks to the skill acquired by medical science, and still more to the intuition engendered by the desire of self-enrichment, the old Jew was not slow in comprehending that there was a secret relating to a treasure unjustly acquired, and he saw no reason, moreover, why he should not be a partaker in the booty. He found means therefore to remove all the attendants, and constituting himself sole guardian of the sick man, seated himself by his bedside and patiently awaited the auspicious moment which should deliver into his merciless keeping a soul harassed by the stings of remorse. This moment at length arrived; Eggadi ceased to be delirious, and as though awakening from a painful dream, drew a long breath, and cast looks of inquiry around him. Salmanazar, who had been watching for this opportunity, then exclaimed: "Eggadi! Eggadi! you Mussulmans cry, 'God is great,' but you do not believe it, for if you did, how could you dare enrich yourselves at the expense of the poor man and his children? Thou art rich, Eggadi, and Ali is poor." "What sayst thou?" cried the sick man, distending his eyes with terror as dismal recollections thronged upon him. "I say that thou hast a treasure which should not belong to thee, and that this is why thou hast the fever, and why moreover thou wilt die, unless I save thy life by my profound science. Restitution must be made; nay, if indeed thou wert to do good with this treasure to poor Jews like me, God would perhaps pardon thee, but thou takest care to give us nothing. If I cure thee what will be my profit? a few miserable doubloons, which I shall have all the same if thou diest; for thy sons will give them me, and if they refused to pay me, I should summon them before the cadi. Thus, whether thou livest or whether thou diest is much the same to me. Nevertheless, if I had a mind I could easily cure thee, and cause thee still to live, that thy days might be long upon the earth. But what profit would this be to me?" "Cure me, cure me," cried the sick man, "and I will give thee far more than my sons would give thee, far more than the cadi would grant thee did my children refuse thee payment. I will give thee twenty doubloons; nay, fifty. That would be a fine thing for thee." "It would be a much better thing for thyself," chuckled Salmanazar. "Of what use will thy doubloons be to thee when thou art dead? I demand five hundred doubloons for curing thee, and I will have them at once, for in an hour's time I shall demand a thousand, and if you then delay deciding there will be no longer any time to choose." "A thousand doubloons!" exclaimed the patient; "I will not even give thee five hundred. If I did,--Allah would not pardon me the more, even supposing I really am guilty of what thou suggested." "Well, then, thou wilt die," rejoined Salmanazar, settling himself again in his chair. The chamber of the sick man was gloomy. A small lamp cast a fitful light upon one corner, while the rest seemed inhabited by nothing but dim shadows. An odour of fever and its remedies pervaded the atmosphere; out of doors,--for it was night,--the dismal cry of the jackals seeking food resounded, whilst the deep baying of the neighbouring dogs was heard without intermission. The weather was windy and tempestuous. All this but served to increase the deep depression which filled the soul of Eggadi. He threw a wistful look around his shadow-haunted room; it fell upon the old Jew who was watching him askance, his large dark eyes dimmed by ophthalmia, and he asked himself whether the old man with his prominent nose, yellow visage, long, lean and withered arms, habited in a scanty and dirty garment, were not some evil genius come thither to curse him for his crime, and drag him to the bottomless pit of perdition. Nevertheless, Eggadi contrived to raise himself up in a sitting posture on his bed. He collected all his strength, drew a long breath, sighed feebly, and said: "Well, I have decided, Salmanazar; give me the remedy which will make my days long upon the earth." "Give me first the five hundred doubloons," said Salmanazar. "I have them not here," replied the sick man. "Tell me where they are, I will go and get them." "That is impossible," said Eggadi; "but summon Bankala, my black slave, he will bring me the key of my coffer, and the coffer itself which contains my treasures." "Well and good," replied Salmanazar; and he summoned Bankala. Eggadi gave some orders to the slave in a language unknown to Salmanazar, and he disappeared. He returned shortly with two other slaves, whom he placed like two sentinels by the side of his master's bed. "Send away those men," said Salmanazar to the sick man. The latter replied, "They are needed to go and bring the coffer as soon as Bankala shall have given us the key; he and I alone know where it is hidden." "It is well," said the Jew; and he held his peace, looking alternately at the sick man and the two slaves. "What wilt thou do to effect my cure?" began Eggadi to inquire of the Jew in a doleful tone. "Thou shalt see--thou shalt see," replied the latter. And they both awaited the return of the slave with an equal anxiety, which they in vain strove to conceal. Bankala made them wait a long time, but when at length he did return, Ali, the poor seller of mats, followed upon his footsteps. "Arise quickly," had been the summons of the slave to him; "Eggadi my master summons thee in the name of Allah, and desires to see thee before he dies." Ali had hastened to obey. At sight of him the Jew trembled. Eggadi, on the contrary, felt himself happy and reassured. "Come hither, Ali," said he; "come and behold a man guilty but repentant. The example of thy virtues did not suffice to bring me back to the path of duty: it was necessary that I should be struck by misfortune. Thanks to Heaven misfortune has befallen me. Ali! Ali! it was I who bought of thee the old camel which was left thee by thy father. That camel no doubt aided him in concealing the great wealth he would fain have bestowed upon thee ere he died. I discovered this wealth, and I conceived the iniquitous design of keeping it, instead of restoring it to thee in accordance with the demands of justice. I was on the point of quitting my country to avoid the further sight of thy poverty, the unceasing reproach to my crime, when Allah visited me with a terrible malady, and a still more terrible physician. This physician, whom thou there beholdest, having discovered my secret, instead of urging me to the restitution of my ill-acquired fortune, dreamt only of sharing it with me, and threatened me with death if I refused the division of the plunder. "His horrible conduct, his avarice and cruelty combined, have inspired me with horror, and have shown me to what lengths an inordinate love of gold may lead. I have mourned for my fault, and have taken a sudden resolution to repair it. By deceiving this skilful man, I have been enabled to send for thee, and before him I declare that I render thee up joyfully all the treasures which are enclosed in the chest upon which Salmanazar is seated." Salmanazar started up on hearing these words. How! he had been actually sitting upon the treasure and had not divined it. Eggadi continued: "Consider, Ali, what will be most suitable to bestow upon this Jew. He demanded of me five hundred doubloons down, or a thousand in an hour's time, if I desired to live. I think that five hundred blows with a stick should be his recompense; at the same time I am unworthy to judge any man in this world. Thou who art just, act towards him as thou thinkest best, but deign, above all things, to grant me thy forgiveness." Ali was of course greatly surprised at all he had just heard. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then said: "Eggadi-ben-Yousouf, I pardon thee willingly; and to prove it, I say to thee as thou once saidst to me: "Let us enter into partnership, let us live as brothers, and unite our children as in the time of the patriarchs. As for Salmanazar, let his only punishment be to behold the riches he would have forced thee to share with him, and after having seen them, let him return home without money and without blows." The wish of the wise Ali was put into execution. The coffer, the key of which Eggadi had about him, was opened; and the Jew, though still trembling with the fear of receiving the blows, could not help eagerly regarding the gold and precious stones which were revealed to his cupidity. Then he departed, filled with grief at having missed his aim, and at not having been himself the fortunate purchaser of the old camel of Ali. This event was engraven on his memory, and caused him to regard with looks of eager anxiety all the old camels whom he chanced to meet. He often stopped before them, and seemed to endeavour to trace in their movements some mysterious sign which might lead to the discovery of hidden treasures. Eggadi, having his conscience at ease, regained his health without the aid of any other physician. He became the adopted brother of Ali, who insisted on sharing with him his newly-acquired fortune; and these two men, their children, and their children's children, continued to live together wealthy and united. IX. THE STORY OF MEDJEDDIN. Many hundred years ago there lived in the famous city of Bagdad a retired merchant named El Kattab. The earlier part of his life had been assiduously devoted to commercial pursuits, in the prosecution of which he had made many a long journey, and crossed many a sea. In the course of his wanderings he had not only amassed the wealth he sought, but, what was better, had stored his mind and memory with the treasures of wisdom and general information. The property he had acquired was far from immense, yet it was amply sufficient to enable him to live in a style of substantial comfort and respectability, and to devote himself to the darling object of his declining years, the education and training of his only son. El Kattab's beard was grey, yet he had not very long passed the prime of life, and still retained most of the vigour and elasticity of his earlier years. He was wise enough to be content with the quiet enjoyments of a moderate affluence, and had no desire to wear out the rest of his life in the feverish labour of constant acquirement, for the mere sake of amassing a splendid fortune; therein differing from too many of his friends, who seemed to forget in their headlong pursuit of enormous riches, that by the time these might be acquired, life would be nigh spent, and at any rate all its charms gone, unless some higher and nobler object had been substituted for that of mere wealth-getting. The city of Mossul had been El Kattab's home in his earlier days; but he quitted it, and took up his abode in Bagdad, partly in order to be near his friend Salek, with whom he had been on the most intimate terms from his youth; partly, too, for the sake of his son's education, as he expected that a residence in the latter city would produce good and lasting impressions on the mind of the young man; for the great city of Bagdad was at this time under the rule of the far-famed caliph Haroun al Raschid, and was the resort of strangers from all parts of the globe; and here artists and sages of all countries mingled with each other. Nor had El Kattab conceived a vain expectation. His son, whose name was Medjeddin, was a young man gifted with good natural abilities, and endowed with a pure and noble heart. He used every opportunity to extend his knowledge and improve his disposition; nor was he deficient in bodily exercises and warlike accomplishments: so that through good discipline he became powerful in body and strong in mind. He was not only, therefore, as was natural enough, the joy and pride of his father, but was loved and esteemed by all who knew him, and was often pointed out by the elders, to others of his own age, as an example worthy of imitation. As the father saw his greatest treasure in the person of his son, so the latter, with all the fervour of a well-directed mind, clung affectionately to his father. Some years passed over them in this mutual love, rendered still more delightful by the companionship of their friend Salek, and their happiness was full and uninterrupted. It chanced one day that El Kattab and Salek were taking their accustomed walk in the gardens adjoining the city in front of the gate. The heat of the summer's day had been diminished by a gentle rain, and the two strolled on, in happy conversation, and extended their walk beyond its usual length. They passed the last garden, and wandered on over some green meadow-land, behind a little wood, at the entrance of which stood high palms, whose shadows invited to repose, while a fresh spring gushed from a neighbouring rock, and meandered among the verdant herbage and variegated flowers. The two friends lay down in the shade, and conversed on the perils to which even the most virtuous men are subject, particularly enlarging on the danger of an over-confidence in the rectitude of our own intentions, and on the comparative ease with which a sudden impulse will sometimes hurry even the best of men, who possesses an overweening reliance on his own firmness of purpose, into a false or even fatal step in life. "I have known men," observed Salek, "who, although among the best and noblest I have ever met in the course of my life, have been led unawares, by too great self-confidence, into an action which they might easily have avoided by moderate caution, but which has proved the beginning of a long chain of evils, ending at last in their complete ruin." El Kattab, on the contrary, maintained that a heart accustomed from early youth to virtue, would not be easily led to commit a serious fault; and even if this should happen, that it would readily find its way back from a slight error to the right road. They continued to talk on these subjects, each endeavouring to confirm his assertions by examples, whilst Medjeddin, stretched beside them, listened with attention to their conversation. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, and ran quickly up the woody hill, at the foot of which they were reposing. His father and Salek looked after him surprised, as they could not comprehend what had occasioned his sudden disappearance. They then saw that a little bird, as white as snow, was flying before him, which he was trying to catch. He was soon lost to their view among the bushes; they called to him to come back; but in vain. They waited for a quarter of an hour, and still Medjeddin did not return. Growing uneasy about him, they advanced in the direction in which he had disappeared, but could discover nothing. At last the sun set; then Salek said, "Let us return home: your son is a strong, active young man; he will easily find his way back to the city. Perhaps he has gone home some other way, and will be there before us." After much opposition, the father was persuaded to return without his son; but he was still full of anxiety which no arguments could overcome. When they arrived at the city, his friend accompanied him to his house. They entered hastily, and inquired for Medjeddin: but he had not returned. Salek's cheering suggestions were of no more avail; El Kattab would no longer listen to him, but threw himself weeping on his couch. Salek rebuked him for this weakness, and represented to him that it might easily have happened that the young man had lost his way in the pursuit of the bird, and could not recover the track all at once. "He has no doubt found a shelter where he will remain till morning," continued he; "he will return here early to-morrow, and will laugh heartily at your fears." When Salek was gone, El Kattab gave free scope to his feelings. He wept aloud, tore his beard, and dashed himself upon the ground, like a madman. The slaves stood around in motionless astonishment, surprised to see their master exhibiting such passionate emotion; others sought to console him, but fruitlessly; at length they all began to cry and bewail with him for his dear son, who was beloved by them all. After a sleepless night, the afflicted father rose not at all quieted. He wished early in the morning to send messengers in all directions; but Salek, who had come to inquire if the lost one had returned home, explained to him how foolish this step would be. "Consider," said he, "that your Medjeddin has most probably found a night's lodging, and slept better than you. Supposing him, therefore, to be at any probable distance, even if he had set out on his way at daybreak, he could hardly be here now: if you send these messengers after him, he may perhaps come home by a shorter path, while they will be searching for him in vain; wait at least till mid-day." El Kattab yielded; he appointed the messengers to be ready at noon, and in the meanwhile walked through the gardens and in the country around the city, where they had been on the preceding day. His friend accompanied him, although he pointed out that Medjeddin might, in the interval, have reached home while they were walking, and that El Kattab was thus perhaps giving himself more trouble than was necessary. "I have yielded to you in the rest," replied El Kattab; "let me at least in this instance have my own will, and walk here." They went together to the fountain in the rock near the palms; they climbed the neighbouring heights; they called the name of the lost one in all directions; but no sound was heard in reply. At noon they went home, and asked all they met if they had seen a young man, whom they accurately described. Nobody could give them any information about him. El Kattab now sent out his messengers in all directions; promising a rich reward to the one who should lead his lost son back to his arms. The messengers returned on the tenth day, and reported that all their researches had been without success. At this the parent's grief knew no bounds. His friend Salek remained almost constantly with him, comforting him; and all his friends held a consultation on the possible means of gaining tidings of Medjeddin. They agreed that he could not have been killed, for then his corpse would have been found: that he had no cause to conceal himself: that he could not have been attacked by enemies, as he had none: might he, they suggested, in the pursuit of the bird, have been led to the brink of the river, and have thrown himself in, and been carried away by the stream? scarcely had this idea presented itself, ere two messengers were despatched to each side of the river to search, from its junction with the Euphrates above Balsora to the spot where it flows into the Arabian Sea, and ascertain if the corpse of Medjeddin had been washed ashore. But these messengers also returned to the anxious parent, without having found what they sought. The parent and his friend now gave up Medjeddin for lost; El Kattab's spirit was broken; grief for his lost son shortened his life; he soon became old: all joy fled from his mind; and his sorrow was only a little alleviated when his faithful friend Salek sat by him in the evening, talking with him of his son, relating the virtues by which he had been distinguished, and telling him how it had been his darling wish that this excellent young man should marry his daughter Maryam. A few days afterwards the caliph Haroun al Raschid went, as he was accustomed, in disguise, with his grand vizier Giafar, and Mesrur his chamberlain, through the streets of Bagdad, to see with his own eyes and to hear with his own ears how justice and order were maintained by his servants, and whether his people were happy and prosperous. He had, as usual, chosen the last hour of the evening for this walk, because he thought that at this time he could look deeper into the joys and pleasures of his subjects, as they had then ended their daily toils, and were seeking comfort and repose in the bosoms of their families. In the course of his progress he came to a street remarkable for its peculiar quiet. As he approached a house, before the door of which two men were standing whispering, Haroun al Raschid addressed them with these words: "Why do you whisper, as if you were concerting a crime? is not this street lonely enough, that you cannot hold your discourse aloud? Can you tell me why this street is so quiet, as though every inhabitant were dead?" "I can easily tell you, my lord," answered one of the whisperers; "here, in the next house, lives the unfortunate El Kattab; and, as usual at this hour, his friend Salek is sitting with him to console him. Now all the inhabitants of this street respect this man, and wish not to remind him, by any outburst of joy, that happier men than himself live in his neighbourhood." Before the caliph could answer him, the man turned away, and entered the house, and the other followed him. "Have you ever heard of this unfortunate El Kattab before?" asked Haroun al Raschid of his grand vizier; and as he answered in the negative, the caliph proceeded, "Let us make an inspection of the house where this El Kattab dwells; perhaps we may discover the cause of his sorrow." They drew near, and saw the light from the inner court shining through a crevice. The caliph applied his eye to the aperture, and after he had watched for some time, beckoned his followers to him, and said, "Two grey-headed men are sitting in this court by the light of a lamp, and one seems to be comforting the other; but this latter continues to weep all the more bitterly, the more his companion endeavours to console him: both appear to be of the same rank. I am desirous of knowing what sorrow oppresses the unfortunate El Kattab: order him to appear at my palace early to-morrow morning; perhaps it may be in my power to lighten his calamity." The next day the grand vizier executed his commission. El Kattab was alarmed when he heard that his presence was required at the palace. He was led into the great hall where the divan usually assembled; but there the attendants left him quite alone. He reviewed the whole of his past life, to see if he had sinned in any way, so as to bring on him the displeasure of the caliph; for he knew that Haroun al Raschid often, in a mysterious manner, discovered the faults of his subjects, and punished them accordingly. But he could not call to mind any deed of which he felt ashamed, nor any that deserved punishment. Whilst he was thus meditating, a curtain was drawn back, and the caliph entered, followed by his vizier and his chamberlain. El Kattab rose from the ground, and bowed his head down to the carpet on which the caliph stood. "El Kattab," said the caliph, "a heavy weight of grief seems to oppress you; and by the anxiety which your neighbours manifest to show respect for your sorrow, I must consider you as a man of worth: I wish then to know the cause of your despondency; have you any objection to inform me of it before these two witnesses, or would you rather confide to me alone the reason of your tears?" "Ruler of the faithful," answered El Kattab, "sorrow is great and deep in my soul; but still the cause of it is unworthy to distract for a moment the attention of the caliph from the cares of his kingdom." The caliph replied, "That which fills the heart of the meanest of my subjects with such grief that it consumes his life, is not unworthy of my care. If I am careful for my whole kingdom, this care none the less extends to each individual; and, if I am careful for one, this one is a member of the whole, and thus my care is not lost. But speak, what is the cause of your affliction?" El Kattab then recounted the mysterious disappearance of his son; how he had sought for him every where, and how all his messengers had returned home without the least trace of him. "I must therefore weep for him as one that is dead,"--thus he ended his relation; "and in tears perhaps my sorrow might expend itself, if at the same time a spark of hope did not live in my heart, that possibly he is still alive: but ah! where? This spark of hope keeps the wound in the father's heart always open." "You have, indeed, real cause for grief," answered the caliph, "and I comprehend that the uncertainty of your son's fate must be as terrible to bear, as would be the mournful certainty of his death. You did wrong in not applying to me before; my power extends not only over believers, but also into foreign lands: other kings and rulers I have as my servants, whose eyes see for me, whose ears hear for me, and whose hands perform what is necessary in order to do my pleasure. That which was not possible to yourself, your friends, and your servants to accomplish, may perhaps prove easy for me. Now go home, and believe that you shall obtain news of your son, if he live on the earth, in any land where my power can reach." With these words he dismissed him, after he had first inquired the marks by which his lost son might be recognised. When El Kattab was sitting again with his friend Salek in the evening, he related to him the gracious and comforting words of the caliph. Salek perceived that hope was revived in his friend's heart, and that he confidently trusted to find his son. He thought it his duty, therefore, to damp somewhat this hope, and said, "Beloved friend, I have once heard a speech, which sunk deeply in my memory: it is, 'Trust not in princes; they are but men.' In truth, the mightiest on earth are subject to destiny. If the caliph have influence in distant lands, it must still be within a comparatively confined and narrow limit; whilst what is in the farthest regions of the earth, as well as what is but a span distant, are all equally under the control of all-governing fate, even from the meanest slave to the ruler of the faithful." Haroun al Raschid meanwhile resolved to do all he could to fulfil the hope he had raised in El Kattab's heart. He gave a commission to all his servants in the kingdom, high and low, and to his ambassadors in the neighbouring kingdoms, and even sent into distant lands, with the princes of which he was on terms of friendship, at the same time despatching messengers with the charge to search for Medjeddin with all diligence, giving them a description by which they might recognise him if they found him. But week after week, and month after month passed away; even a whole year elapsed, without any intelligence being received either of the life or death of the lost one. So that all hope of finding him deserted the father for ever. Medjeddin, meantime, had not perished--none of the accidents suggested by his father's advisers had befallen him; he still lived, but in such complete concealment that it was impossible for any one to discover him. He had followed the snow-white bird till evening, without clearly knowing why: he was induced to think he could catch the curious creature, particularly as it flew at such a moderate height from the ground, and at the same time so slowly. The tardiness of its flight made him conjecture that it must have hurt one of its wings; several times he succeeded in getting quite close to it, but just as he stretched out his hand to seize it, the bird again raised its wings, and flew a little in advance. Medjeddin now felt himself tired, and would have given up the pursuit, but the bird also seemed fatigued; he approached it, but again the bird flew a little farther off. In this chase he climbed a hill, and soon after found himself in a narrow meadow-valley, down which he ran; twilight came, but the snow-white colour of the bird still lighted him on. At last the pursued bird perched in a thicket; he hastened to it, but when he closed his hand to seize his prisoner, it flew away, leaving only one of its tail-feathers tightly grasped in his hand: still he saw it through the twilight flying before him, and still he hastened after it. The bird seemed now to quicken its pace; but as he had so nearly caught it once, he continued the pursuit with more eagerness; he ran through the high grass, with his strained sight fixed on this glimmering white object, he saw nothing else. Thus he came unexpectedly on a small but deep pool of water, which lay across his path; he jumped in, swam across, and tried to climb the other side, but it was so steep that he fell in with some of the crumbling earth: the water closed over his head, and he lost all consciousness. When he came to himself, he found himself lying on the turf, and a tall, grey-headed man of strange appearance by him, clothed in a long black robe reaching to his ancles, and fastened by a glittering girdle of a fiery colour. Instead of a turban, he wore a high pointed cap on his head, with a tassel of the same hue as the girdle. "Has your life returned to you?" he asked: "you deserved to be suffocated in the mud. Come, we must go farther before daylight quite leaves us." With these words the stranger raised him from the ground, passed his left arm round his body, and flew with him through the air with the speed of an arrow. Medjeddin again soon lost recollection, and did not know how long he remained in this condition. He awoke at last as from a deep sleep; and looking around, the first thing he observed was a cage of gold wire, hanging from the ceiling by a long golden chain, and within was the snow-white bird he had so long followed. He found himself alone with this bird in a hall, the roof of which was supported on pillars of white marble, and the walls were built of smooth pale-green stones. The openings which served as windows were protected by lattices so skilfully contrived with winding tracery, that even the white bird could have found no space to pass through, even if it had escaped from the cage. Beside one wall stood a crystal urn; and from this fell a stream of clear water, which passing over the curved brim of the urn, was received in a white basin beneath, from which it disappeared unseen. Whilst he was observing this, and wondering what had happened to him, and how he came there, suddenly the old man in the black robe entered from behind a curtain. He carried a small golden box in his hand, and approached him with these words: "You have now caught the white bird, and have it safe in a cage; in this box is food for it, and there is water; take diligent care of it, and mind that it does not escape." As he said this he disappeared. Medjeddin now arose and walked round the hall: he looked through the windows, and ascertained that he must be in a foreign land, as the forms of the mountains and trees were quite different from any he had before seen. The hall seemed to be high in the air, as if it were the upper story of a lofty tower. No other edifice was to be seen, and from the windows he could not distinguish what shrubs and plants bloomed beneath. He drew the curtain aside, and discovered a doorway; but there was a thick metal door which he could not open. He was now very much embarrassed, for he began to feel hungry, and could find nothing that would serve him for food. He examined the walls to see if he could discover any concealed outlet; he tried to open the lattices, that he might put his head out, and see if there were any body beneath, to whom he might cry out. There was no door; he could not open the lattices; and as far as he could strain his sight in every direction, he could see nobody: he threw himself in despair on the pillow, wrung his hands, and wept, and cried: "I am then imprisoned--imprisoned in a dungeon where splendour and riches are lavished around! Of what avail is it that these walls are built of precious stones? that this lattice is of fine gold, that this cage is of gold, and hangs on a golden chain? I am as much a prisoner behind golden lattices as I should be behind a grating of iron." Then he rose and shouted through the lattices, in hopes that his voice might be heard, and aid brought; but nobody appeared, and no one answered him. When he again threw himself weeping on his couch, after these useless efforts, he observed that the white bird fluttered restlessly in its prison, and pecked at the golden dish for its food, without finding any. "Poor brother in misfortune," said Medjeddin, "you shall not suffer want; I will take care of you; come, I will bring you what you want." He took the pans from the cage, filling one with water from the urn, and the other with grain from the gold box which the old man had given him. Scarcely had he hung the last on the cage, when, on turning round, he saw a table behind him covered with costly viands. He was astonished, and could not understand how this had happened; still it was not long before he attacked the meats with the zest of a young man who had fasted nearly all day. Although these viands were altogether different from those he had been accustomed to taste in his father's house, they all appeared excellent. He ate till he was fully satisfied, and then took from the table a golden cup, and quenched his thirst with pure water from the urn. After this he threw himself on a couch and fell asleep. When he awoke he felt strong and well. He arose and began to make another tour of the hall, and he then observed that the table with the meats had disappeared. This was a disappointment, as he had thought to make a good supper of the remainder. He did not allow this, however, to trouble him much, as he now felt pretty sure that he was not to die of hunger. He next proceeded to scrutinise his prison more closely: he examined all anew, pillars, walls, and floor; but could no where find a crevice or a fissure: all was fast and whole. His view from the windows did not allow him to make any further discovery; he only saw that he was very far above the earth, and in a spacious valley; mountains were to be seen in the distance, with curiously-pointed summits. As soon as he had completed this examination, and found there was nothing to occupy him, he turned his attention to the white bird in the cage. Here was still life; and if the cage was narrow, yet the prisoner could hop about on the different perches. Soon it remained still and gazed at him with its bright eyes, which seemed as if sense and speech lay in them, the interpretation only was wanting. Night put an end to these reflections. Next morning he observed that the bird again wanted food. He filled its seed-pan with grain from his golden box, and gave it fresh water from the urn. Scarcely had he done this, when the table covered with meats again stood in the same place as the day before. This day passed like the former, and the following in the same manner; Medjeddin wept and mourned, took care of the little bird, fed it, and was every time rewarded in the same manner with the table covered with dishes as soon as he had filled the bird's seed-pan. He could not perceive who brought the table, nor how it disappeared. It always came whilst he stood beside the cage with his back turned, and without any noise. On the ninth day the old man suddenly appeared to him, and said, "To-day is a day of rest for you; you have performed your duty during the preceding days in giving the bird its food, you may now amuse yourself in the garden till evening." He led him through a door into a narrow passage, at the end of which they descended twenty steps; he then opened a small metal trap-door, and then Medjeddin descended twenty steps more: they next came to a similar door, and descended twenty more steps to a third, and so on, till, after passing the ninth door, they found themselves in the open air. "Remain here till you are called," said the old man, who went back into the building through the same doors, which he shut after him. Medjeddin was very curious to examine more closely the building in which he had been imprisoned: he therefore went round it, and narrowly observed it. It was a tower of nine stories, each about fifteen feet in height. The tower was nine-sided, with a window in the third side of each story, so arranged that no window was directly over another, and that consequently only three altogether appeared in each side of the tower from bottom to top. This distribution of regularity and order reigned throughout the whole building. The walls were made of large pieces of gold, quite as smooth as glass; and these were so skilfully put together that, even when closely looked at, the joints could not be discovered. The lattices of the windows were all of gold, like those in the upper hall, and the lower doors through which he had passed were of a yellow metal, inclining to green. All these considerations were not calculated to lessen his conviction that no man could possibly find him out in such a prison. Suddenly a new hope awoke in him: "I am no longer shut up in the tower," said he to himself; "here I am in the open air, in a garden: I can clamber and jump like a monkey; I may possibly find some outlet from this garden, by which I can escape." He immediately turned from the tower, and hastened through the gardens, seeking freedom; but he soon discovered that this hope was vain. He found the gardens surrounded on all sides by a lofty wall, constructed of the same materials, and quite as glassy, as the tower. After making the whole circuit of the garden, he at length found a gate, consisting of a grating of strong iron bars, polished to the highest degree of smoothness, and so close together, that he could scarcely pass his arm through. He tried to climb it by holding by the upper bars with his hands; but his feet slipped on the smooth iron, and he hurt his knee so much, that he lost his hold and fell backwards on the earth. He next examined the grating closely to see if there were no means of escape; but all was in vain: every where the bars were high, thick, and like polished glass. Sorrowfully he wandered round the garden; the sun's rays darting down scorched up the grass, and he sought some shade where he might screen himself from their influence. He lay down on a mossy bank, and meditated anew on his fate. Besides his own grief at his imprisonment, the thought of his father's sorrow at his loss pained him. The exhaustion consequent on tears and loud lamentations, joined with the noontide heat, at last caused him to fall into a deep sleep. When he awoke, the table covered with meats was again before him; he ate, and wandered again mournfully through the garden, meditating whether he could not make a ladder from the trees around him, to aid him in his escape over the grating. But there was something wanting for this work; he had not even a dagger or a knife. As he thus thought, the old man appeared, and said, "Evening is drawing on; follow me in." He led him again to the upper room of the tower, and locked the metal door upon him. There was no change observable in his prison, only the bird seemed harassed and mournful; it sat quiet and still on the lowest perch, its plumage was rough, and its eyes dull. "Poor creature," said Medjeddin, "what is the matter? are you ill?" It seemed as if the bird was affected by these sympathising questions, but it soon sank again into its former dejection. He mused long upon this. The next day and the following ones passed like the former; but on the ninth the old man again appeared, led him into the garden, and at night conducted him back into the hall. He took care of the bird; and as soon as he had given it food and water, he always found the table covered with meats behind him. In the intervals he stood at the lattice of one of the three windows looking on the plain below, earnestly hoping to catch sight of some person to free him from his captivity. In such monotonous employment many months passed away: every ninth day the old man appeared, and gave him leave to walk in the garden; but he did not derive much amusement from his strolls in this narrow enclosure. In the mean time he asked the old man many times the reason of his imprisonment, and how long it was to last. No answer was vouchsafed but these words: "Every man has his own fate; this is thine." One day the old man appeared and led him into the garden as usual; but he had not been there more than a quarter of an hour, when he returned, called him in, and then quickly retired with marks of disquietude. Medjeddin also remarked that the white bird, which he had learnt to love more every day, sat at the bottom of its cage, more mournful than it usually was after the old man's visit. He drew near, and observed a little door in the cage which he had never before seen. He examined it closely, and found a fine bolt which passed into a ring of gold wire. These were made so skilfully, and worked into the ornamental parts of the cage so cunningly, that nobody could have discovered them if his attention had not been drawn to them by design or accident. Medjeddin pushed back the bolt and opened the door; the bird started up as if some sudden joy had seized it, hopped out, and as soon as it touched the floor was transformed, and in its stead a young maiden stood before Medjeddin, clothed in a white silk robe; beautiful dark locks streamed over her neck and shoulders, and a thin fragrant veil fell over them, confined by a fillet set with precious stones; her finely-formed countenance was as white as ivory, relieved by the softest shade of the rose. Surprised and astonished, Medjeddin started back and said, "By the beard of the prophet, I conjure you to tell me whether you are of human race, or whether you belong to the genii?" "I am a helpless maiden," said she, "and implore you to deliver me from the hands of this cruel magician; I will reward you handsomely for it: know, I am the only daughter of Omar, king of Zanguebar; and this wicked enchanter has cunningly carried me off from my father's palace, and shut me up in this cage. He has one son, as ugly as night, whom he wishes me to take for my husband. Every ninth day he comes, brings his son with him, and praises his excellent qualities. This he has done regularly for many months past, tormenting me at every visit for my consent to this odious union; and he now threatens me with cruel tortures if I give it not by the next new moon. On that day he will have kept me a year in imprisonment, and longer than a year he says he will not continue to entreat: then will the time of my punishment begin; I conjure you therefore to help me." At these words she burst into a flood of tears. "Noble maiden," answered Medjeddin, "how willingly would I free you! but, alas, I am as helpless as yourself, and cannot even free myself. But tell me how is it? you say the enchanter brings his hateful son with him--why, then, have I never seen him?" "He always sends you away when he comes," answered the princess. "But even then," pursued Medjeddin, "the son could not conceal himself from me on the stairs, or in the narrow passage." "Quite true," she answered, "but he carries him in his pocket." "What," exclaimed Medjeddin in astonishment, "in his pocket!--how can that be?" The princess informed him that the young man became on the occasion of each visit a white bird, like herself: that the enchanter put him into the cage with her, and that she felt such a dislike to him that she always fluttered about the cage to avoid getting near him; but that he, with the pertinacious obstinacy of a brutal affection, would follow her and settle confidingly near her. "You must," she continued, "have remarked how tired and mournful I always was on the ninth day when you returned." Medjeddin, astonished at this explanation, assured her of his willingness to free her, but bewailed his helplessness. The princess, however, would not give up hopes of their success. "It seems to me," said she, "a good omen that the enchanter has to-day received a message which caused him to leave so early, and in such haste that he did not securely close the cage, and that you returned so early to-day from the garden; this day is my birthday, the only day I can be delivered from the magician's power; on any other day I should still have remained a dumb bird, even if you had freed me from my cage; only on this day has my touching the floor had power to restore me to my natural form; the enchantment lies in the cage." Medjeddin instantly seized the cage, exclaiming, "If it be so, we will break the enchantment." He threw the cage to the ground, stamped on it with his feet till it was quite flat, and its shape no longer distinguishable, then he rolled it together, and threw it into a corner of the hall. At this moment a frightful noise like thunder resounded through the air. The whole building shook as with a furious tempest, the doors flew open with a crash, the curtains were drawn aside, and the magician stood before them with a countenance full of anger. "Ah," cried he, "weak worms, what have you presumed to do? how did you learn to break my charm in this manner? who bid you destroy the cage?" Medjeddin was so terrified he could answer nothing. The enchanter then turned to the maiden and cried, "And you, you thought this miserable worm could defend you against my power: I will show you how useless it is to oppose me." He felt in the pocket of his black robe, and pulled out thence a small box; this he opened, and a white bird flew out and perched on the table. He then took a smaller box from his girdle and opened it,--it was filled with grains of millet; from these he took one, and laid it before the bird, who had scarcely eaten it before such a distorted man stood in its place, that both Medjeddin and the princess screamed aloud. His head was large and thick, his eyes red and dark, his nose small and quite flat, his lips thick and blueish red, his chin broad and projecting, and on his head grew a few stiff white hairs; a hump grew out in front, and a similar one behind; his shoulders were quite drawn up, and his head so jammed between them that his ears could not be seen. The upper part of his body was so unwieldy, and his legs so weak and thin that it was wonderful how they supported him; he tottered about incessantly, balancing himself first on one leg, then on the other. "Come forward, my son," said the enchanter to this deformed creature; "behold, there is your bride; she does not wish to wait till the new moon which I fixed upon for your betrothal: to-day she has effected her own change by the help of this friend. Go, my son, give your bride a kiss, and then thank this young man." The deformed creature approached the princess with a horrible fiendish laugh; she averted her face with disgust, and stretched out her arms to motion him away. But by this time Medjeddin's courage had returned: resolving to venture all, he stepped before the princess and gave the deformity such a blow that he reeled and fell backwards. His head struck in the fall on the corner of the pedestal of one of the marble pillars with such violence, that his skull was broken: a stream of blood flowed from the wound, and the monster gave a hollow groan. Medjeddin thought of nothing but the father's rage and revenge, and gave up his life for lost. But the enchanter stood quite confounded as he observed his son's mortal wound, and appeared stupified with horror and amazement. Presently he threw himself down beside him, examined the injury, and wrung his hands, forgetting his revenge in his sorrow. Medjeddin quickly seized the hand of the princess, and led her through the door and down the stairs: all the doors were open, and they found their way without any obstacle into the garden. Soon they stood before the grating of the iron gate, which was closed. "Of what use is our flight?" said Medjeddin despondingly; "we are still as much as ever in the power of the enchanter; and even if we were on the other side of the gate, and concealed in the deepest cavern, he would discover us by his knowledge, and wreak his vengeance on us." "I am of a different opinion," said the princess; "I know many of the things on which the superior power of this magician depends, and I believe that if we could only get out of this place, we should be safe." They went on a little further, and came to a spot where a number of trees had been uprooted by the hurricane; one of these lay overturned with its summit resting on the top of the wall, and its boughs and branches hanging far over the other side. At this sight the young man rejoiced; he climbed quickly on to the trunk, pulling the princess after him, and guiding her with great care and tenderness into the top of the tree. They then clambered over the wall in spite of a formidable row of spikes, and let themselves down on the other side by the overhanging branches of the tree. These did not quite reach to the ground, but near enough for them to leap down; they let go accordingly, and fell gently to the earth; then jumping up, they proceeded as rapidly as the strength of the princess and the difficulties of the way would allow them, through thickets, underwood, and plains studded with prickly plants, towards the distant mountains. After the two fugitives had continued their flight for several hours without looking back on the scene of their imprisonment, the princess felt her strength exhausted, and that she could go no further; she begged her companion, therefore, to stop and rest for a short time. Medjeddin sought a place free from bushes, and clad with moss and long grass; they seated themselves there, and Medjeddin entreated the princess to relate her history. She was too much exhausted at first, but after a short pause recovered her strength and commenced thus: "My early history is very simple. I am called Jasmin, the only daughter of the sultan of Zanguebar. My mother was brought over the wide-stretching sea, from beyond Arabia and Mount Caucasus, and was sold to him as a slave. Soon attracted by her beauty and manners, he raised her to the dignity of wife. My earliest youth was spent in happy sports under my mother's eyes, who died, however, before I had passed the age of childhood, as the change from the mild climate of her land to the heat of my father's shortened her days. My father loved me as his greatest treasure, and confided me to a careful nurse. Every evening I passed several hours with him, as soon as he was released from the cares of government, and one whole day in each week he devoted to conversation with me. On that day we always went together in a light bark to a neighbouring promontory, where he had a beautiful palace and gardens. The air there was cooler and more refreshing, the trees and shrubs were clothed with fresher green than in the shut-up garden in the capital, and we passed the whole day in the open air. In the mean time I had outgrown childhood, and was beloved by a prince, the son of a neighbouring king, to whom I was betrothed, and who was to succeed my father in his kingdom. This prince, whose name was Mundiana Mesoud, often accompanied us in these visits to the castle on the promontory. "It happened one day, as we were sitting on a terrace by the sea, that a foreign ship anchored just below us. A stranger caused himself to be landed in a little boat, and asked us permission to appear before us, as he had many costly wares to offer for sale. I was desirous to see his wares, and begged my father to admit him. The man laid many costly trinkets of gold and precious stones before us; and my father bought some which pleased me the most. I remarked that the merchant watched me closely, but he did this with such evident pleasure that my vanity ascribed it to his admiration of my charms, and found no harm in it. Whilst he showed his goods, he let fall some words which intimated that he had left his most precious articles behind in the ship; he had there, he said, many curious birds, particularly a snow-white bird which was the most beautiful of all creatures of this kind. He managed thus to excite my curiosity so much that I begged my father to allow me to go with the stranger to his ship to see these rarities. My father was weak enough to comply with this unreasonable wish. A suitable train ought to have accompanied me, but the stranger prevented this; he said his boat had only room in it for three people, and that he should not like to show his wares if many strangers came into his ship. 'They are only things fit for the royal princess,' he said; 'there is no fear that I should expose her to danger. I can never forget that a powerful king has entrusted his only daughter to my care. However, the prince may accompany you as a watchful protector.' We accompanied the merchant to the ship; there we found an immense number of extraordinary things and unknown animals. In the place where in other ships the rowers sat, were great apes; on high on the mast sat an eagle; in the cabins were many large and small cages of smooth ebony with thick gold bars, behind which moved a confused multitude of animals. "My desire was now directed to the snow-white bird, about which I made inquiry. He showed it me high up in a sort of box; and as I could not see it distinctly, he took it out and placed it in my hand. 'The most wonderful circumstance,' said he, 'connected with this bird is, that, being a native of a far distant country, when removed to this it can only remain a few days alive, but I have found the corn of life of which I give it some grains each week, and it is then refreshed for nine days.' We asked for the corn of life, of which we had never heard; and he opened a little box and took out three grains. He gave me one to give the bird, the other I was to try, and the third prince Mesoud. When I offered the grain to the bird, it refused it; and when I pressed my hand closer, drew back, lost its balance and fell down with outspread wings. I hastened to it, picked it up perhaps somewhat roughly, and as it tried to escape, I held some of its tail-feathers fast, so that it lay fluttering in my hand. I was very much frightened, and the merchant seemed so also. He soon laughed, however, with a sort of malicious joy, and said that I should swallow the corn, because it would prevent the flight of the frightened prisoner; he said the same to the prince; and we swallowed the grains at the same moment. I felt a wonderful transformation pass over me, and found that I was changed into a snow-white bird; and when I looked towards the prince, in his stead I saw a black bird. Upon this the stranger, who was no other than the enchanter, seized me, and shut me up in the golden cage which you have trodden to pieces. The apes began to ply the oars, and the ship moved with unusual swiftness over the sea. I still saw my father and the attendants on the terrace, and could distinguish their gestures of wonder as they saw the ship depart; I believed even that I heard their voices calling us back. But what could I do in my cage? The black bird flew to the promontory; and from that moment I have neither heard nor seen any thing of prince Mesoud. "When my home was far in the distance, and even the summit of the mountains which overhung it could no longer be distinguished, the enchanter rose with my cage high in the air, leaving his ship behind, and bore me into the hall of the tower. How he brought the other white bird, I do not know; I only know that he took it out of his pocket and put it into the cage. 'Now you have a companion,' said he. As I took him for a real bird, I considered myself, though unfortunate, superior to him, and drew myself back into a corner. But the bird came nearer and followed me round the cage. At last I lost patience, and pecked his eyes. When the enchanter saw this, he took out a little box and took from it a grain which he laid before the bird, who picked it up immediately. It was then changed into a man, the same ugly wretch you saw in the tower. He desired me, as I have already told you, to take that deformity for my husband; and promised me that, on my consent, I should be immediately restored to my proper form, and assured me that otherwise I should always remain as a bird, except on my birthday. It was also part of my enchantment to be obliged to allure you here. I have now no other wish than to return to my father in Zanguebar, because I know he is living in great affliction." This relation vividly reminded Medjeddin of his own father; he knew, from the great love he had always shown him, that he must have pined for his loss, and his mournful countenance and bowed-down form presented themselves before his mind. "Princess," said he, "your desire cannot be greater than mine. Still, I swear to you, that I will not return to my father till I have safely conducted you to your native land, or have seen you safe into the hands of those who will bring you to your father; if I do not, may Heaven not grant my father life to receive this joy!" They journeyed on with renewed vigour. But evening was drawing near, and it was necessary to find a resting-place for the night; fortune was favourable; they soon found a nook overhung by a large and lofty bush. Medjeddin broke away the boughs, so as to form a hedge which fenced round a small spot in which he concealed the princess, leaving only a narrow entrance, before which he lay down to watch. Night passed without danger. However anxiously Medjeddin strove against sleep in order to watch over his companion, it at last weighed down his eyelids; and they both awoke with the first rays of the sun. They wandered the whole day, resting occasionally; at every step the journey became more hazardous; the thickets became thicker and higher; they were often obliged to creep between the boughs, and their clothes hung in rags. On the fourth day they reached the foot of the mountains. There they found cultivated land and human habitations. Medjeddin inquired where they were, and asked the way to the sea. The people told them the name of the country, which was unknown to Medjeddin and to the princess Jasmin, and added, that on the other side of the high mountains lay a large flat land, bordering on the sea. They received this information with great joy, and, tired and footsore as they were, addressed themselves, without loss of time, to the task of crossing the mountains, and at last, after a wearisome journey, during which they had seen the sun rise and set seven times, they arrived at the flat country and the sea-coast of which they had been told. A ship lay ready at anchor; and when they inquired its destination, the steersman answered, "We are going to Zanguebar, to fetch a cargo of cinnamon." To Medjeddin's question where they came from, and the name of the land where they were, he received for answer, "that the ship belonged to a merchant of Balsora, and that it had been cast on these unknown shores by a violent storm." When the princess perceived that the ship was going towards her native land, she was very much rejoiced. She took one of the precious stones out of the fillet on her forehead, and gave it for the passage money of herself and her companion. The following morning they weighed anchor, and, after a prosperous voyage, reached the very same place where the enchanter's ship had formerly lain at anchor, when he carried off the princess. They were landed in a small boat, and Jasmin led her deliverer through the beautiful leafy walks of the imperial gardens. In this way they came to a terrace, from which they could see the ship. Instead of pressing hastily forwards, they concealed themselves behind a bush, for on the terrace sat a venerable and noble-looking man, with the profoundest melancholy stamped on his features; he was looking seawards, and the vessel had just caught his eye; a flood of tears ran down his face, "Ah!" cried he, "it was just so on the day that my sorrows began! There lay the ship of the robber; there landed the boat which carried away my beloved daughter and her betrothed. It was even at the same hour of the day. I have sent messengers into all the neighbouring lands; I have caused the opposite sea-coasts to be searched; but all has been in vain. I must die, and never see my child again." He pronounced these words aloud, and covered his face, as he bowed himself forward on his hands. The princess Jasmin was rushing towards him, but Medjeddin held her back, and said, "Let me first prepare him for your arrival, for otherwise joy may kill him." And he came forward, and bowed himself before the sorrowing old man. The king then said, "Who are you? Are you a beggar, and do you need any gift? It shall be given you; go to my palace." Medjeddin stood up and answered, "From my appearance, you might well take me for a beggar, O great king Omar. But know that under these ragged clothes is concealed a magician, who is able to change your tears into smiles, your sobs into transports of joy." "Can any man on earth do this?" asked Omar. "I have only to speak three words," answered the other, "and it will happen. Are you strong enough to support the highest joy that your heart can feel or conceive?" At these questions, a ray of hope kindled in the soul of the mourning father. "What is it? Who are you who can promise this?" asked he; and, on Medjeddin repeating his question, he answered, "I think so," regarding him, at the same time, with eager looks. "Approach, princess Jasmin," cried the youth; and she sprang forward into her father's open arms. Medjeddin's promise was indeed fulfilled; the aged monarch's tears were changed into smiles of joy. Their embrace continued long. At last Omar raised himself, beckoned Medjeddin to approach, and said, "You are indeed a magician such as I have never seen before. By your words you have changed the mournful course of my life into the brightest sunshine. I will not now ask you who you are, and what I have to thank you for, nor inquire what chance brought you to my daughter; I shall only give myself up to joy at her return." They went back to the capital in the king's barge, and soon the joyful news of the unexpected reappearance of the princess spread every where. Crowds assembled at the palace to ascertain if the news were true, and the princess at length went out of the principal gate of the palace, and showed herself at the head of the flight of steps which led up to it. Then arose a shout of joy from ten thousand voices, and loud wishes for her health and happiness. The next day, after the king had heard from his daughter the history of her imprisonment, and of the devotion with which Medjeddin had watched over her and when Medjeddin had in turn narrated his history Omar became very thoughtful, and caused his council to assemble, to deliberate how they should reward him. "If he were not so young," said some of them "he might be made grand vizier, the next in dignity to the king, or be appointed governor of a province. But his youth prevents his being placed over the people next to the king." After longer consultation, the eldest of the councillors rose, and said, "Omar, my king and lord, the youth has certainly performed a great service to you and the princess Jasmin; it seems to me, therefore, that his reward ought to come from you. It is fitting that the king, having received from him a great benefit in his family, should reward him from his family. Were I in such a case, I would constitute him Mundiana, and give him for a wife the daughter whom he has restored." The whole assembly were of the same opinion, and the king gave them to understand that this was also his wish. "I am old," said he, "and can easily perceive that the cares of this land will soon need other hands to support them. I shall be much pleased to see my daughter with so good a husband. The prince Mundiana Mesoud, whom I had before chosen, has disappeared; and this youth, although of lower birth, is of noble soul, and will soon, under my guidance, acquire the necessary experience to enable him to promote justice and order in my kingdom." He did not delay, but immediately caused Medjeddin to be called. A costly band of gold and silver was fastened round his forehead, and the king then said, "I herewith appoint you Mundiana;" and the assembled councillors immediately added their congratulations. Medjeddin expressed his gratitude in becoming terms, but inquired, smiling, what was the precise nature of the dignity conferred on him. The eldest councillor stepped forward and said, "This name points out the highest post of honour which the king can bestow. You are found worthy of this honour, and no other lives who bears the title, because the Mundiana Prince Mesoud has disappeared." An elephant covered with costly trappings was now brought in by its keeper, and upon it was a richly ornamented seat. On this the new officer was placed, and led through the streets. Heralds went before him, and cried aloud, "Listen to what Omar makes known to all people. This youth has restored to him his dearest jewel, which he had lost. In gratitude, the king has nominated him Mundiana, and has appointed his daughter Jasmin for his wife. To-morrow the betrothal will be celebrated; and every body is invited to the court of the palace to partake of the general joy." Medjeddin hardly knew how all this had come about. He had received clothes and rich arms as a present from the king, and the king so highly favoured him, that he was not only to be husband of the princess Jasmin, but was to succeed Omar on the throne, and to reign over that beautiful and rich land. In his happiness he forgot his early life, his father's sorrow, and even his playfellow Maryam and his father's faithful friend Salek, and thought no more of his home or his father-land. The next day his betrothal with the princess was celebrated with great pomp. The princess had willingly yielded to her father's wish, without manifesting any particular joy, although, she felt a very sincere friendship for her intended husband, and treated him with great respect and attention, as she did not forget in her prosperity how much she had owed to him in the time of misfortune. The first days and weeks after the ceremony of betrothal were devoted to recreation and amusement, after which he was formally introduced by the king to the council, and instructed in the business of the state. The king and councillors had soon reason to wonder at the acuteness of his judgment in difficult cases, and above all, at his quick perception of right and order. Throughout the country, the justice and wisdom of the king's future son-in-law were praised, and it was hoped that fortune would permit him to rule over the land. A whole year had now elapsed, and the day was fast approaching when he was to marry the princess and ascend the throne. One day, as usual, he sought his betrothed, the princess Jasmin, in her apartments. He happened to enter very rapidly after his announcement by the attendant, and saw the princess hastily wiping her eyes; and as he drew nearer, he perceived the traces of her tears. Sympathising with her, he asked the cause of her grief; she tried to avoid answering him, but as he continued to urge her, she at last said, "I dare tell you why these tears flow, because you are good and compassionate, and will not consider it a crime that I have a feeling and constant heart. You know that I was formerly beloved by prince Mesoud, the son of the neighbouring king; I related to you that this prince was changed into a black bird by the enchanter, and flew from the ship to the promontory of the island where our country seat was situated. Now I must tell you that I grieve so much the more about this prince's fate, as from my own change I can compassionate his mournful condition. I could not repress the desire to ascertain his fate, and I have obtained certain news of his present condition, by the secret knowledge of a certain wise man. I have learned that he still lives in his new form, and that he has flown away, from fear of the machinations of the demon hunter, called among us Dolda Waldas, and is now in far distant regions; and that it is ordained by fate that he shall never regain his human form if I give my hand to another husband. Sorrow at his mournful destiny has drawn these tears from my eyes, the traces of which you observed." This narrative made a deep impression on Medjeddin; he discovered that Jasmin had acceded to her father's wish only from gratitude and filial obedience, whilst her affections were still fixed on the absent prince. He saw that he could purchase the good fortune of being the husband of the noble princess, and son-in-law of the great king Omar, and after him king of Zanguebar, only by the misfortunes of prince Mesoud. He asked himself if this were right, and was obliged to confess that justice and honour were opposed to it. He saw that the intoxication of good fortune had hitherto blinded him. Then the remembrance of his father came before him, and his imagination pictured him pining away at the uncertainty of his son's fate. He bitterly reproached himself for his long forgetfulness, and for not having sent an embassy to announce his safe arrival in Zanguebar. Scarcely had these thoughts and feelings arisen in his breast, than he made up his mind: he went to the king, told him all, and begged him to let him go and fulfil a son's duty to a father whom he had too long neglected. Omar sighed deeply at these disclosures of his expected son-in-law; he proposed to send a ship to bring his father, so that he might spend the rest of his life in sharing his son's good fortune and companionship. Upon this Medjeddin declared to him, with determination, that he could never be his son-in-law or successor to the throne. "I cannot purchase such good fortune at another's expense," said he; "it was otherwise before I knew the decision of fate; but now that I know that the prince Mesoud must, through my happiness, always remain in his present condition, if I thus take away the possibility of his ever returning to his human form, I should be in the highest degree culpable, if I did not voluntarily give up my good fortune." All the persuasions and arguments of Omar were useless. The councillors also, and the grand vizier and the governors of the provinces, begged him to continue in the land, and to take still more share in the government. He remained firm in his resolution; he promised the princess, who was astonished at his honourable spirit, that, as soon as he had seen and comforted his father, he would seek information about prince Mesoud from all the sages and magicians of his native land, and that he would try all means to restore him to his former condition. As he was determined to set out, the king gave him costly presents, including many precious stones from his treasury, and provided him with a ship, and all necessaries for the voyage. The heavens seemed to favour the resolution of the returning son: the finest weather and most favourable winds seconded his journey, and the ship anchored in the harbour without accident. He took some servants, bought some camels, which he loaded with the king's presents, and so went through Balsora along the river to Bagdad. One beautiful evening he came near the city, and recognised the very place where he had lain at the feet of his father and Salek, and listened to their conversation; their last discourse there returned to his memory. "Well," said he to himself, "my own experience has indeed proved how true it is that it is easy for a man to be seduced from virtue into one false step, if he be not watchful, but relies on his own power: I thought that my heart was sure to be always right, and neglected the practice of weighing carefully each action beforehand. In this manner have I so much forgotten my love for my father, and had nearly committed a great wrong, having been about to sacrifice to my vanity, in the intoxication of good fortune, the happiness of the princess and her betrothed. And you, my father, were also right when you maintained that a heart accustomed to virtue from early years would only for a short time wander from the right road. I have myself experienced the truth of these words, and I therefore thank you with tears that you brought me up to what was good." As he spoke, he espied a small solitary hut where the palm-trees used to stand. A venerable man, much marked by sorrow, appeared at the door; he stood still before the threshold, and regarded the youth with astonishment; the young man gazed earnestly at him. Then suddenly recognising the features of the old man, he threw himself on his knees before him, seized his hand, and covered it with kisses. "My father," cried he, "is it so indeed? have you become so much altered in the course of so few years? that is my fault. Father, forgive your offending son, who forgot you in the height of prosperity." El Kattab extended his other hand to him, blessed him, and said: "Rise up, my son, rise; he who feels repentance is forgiven." He rose and threw himself into his father's arms. When he looked up again, he saw a man approaching, accompanied by a maiden, whose features he recognised. It was Salek and his daughter Maryam, Medjeddin's playfellow. After welcoming him, they sat down, and Medjeddin related to them all that had happened to him since the memorable evening. He related, truly and candidly, how he had forgotten his father, and nearly fallen into greater crimes, because he had been blinded by fortune, by greatness, and by honours. As they were sitting and conversing, they observed three birds coming up from a distance, and who seemed to be chasing one another. They soon perceived that one of them was a black bird flying in great fright from a large hawk. It was obvious that the hawk would soon have seized his prey, had he not been pursued in turn by a larger bird, to avoid which, he was often compelled to dart from side to side: at last they came to close conflict. The pursued black bird fell into Medjeddin's lap; the hawk, struck by his pursuer, fell to the ground at their feet, and was, by the strong hooked bill and sharp claws of his adversary, soon killed and torn to pieces. Scarcely had this taken place, when the conqueror changed into a venerable-looking sage. He turned to Medjeddin, who was quite astonished, and said: "Dip quickly your forefinger in the blood of this slain bird, and anoint with it the beak of the black one." Medjeddin obeyed immediately; and scarcely had he touched the black bird's beak with the blood, ere it was transformed, and a handsome youth in kingly dress stood before them. "Guess who this is," said the genius. "The prince Mesoud?" asked Medjeddin. The genius answered, "It is he!" And as he stood looking at the young prince with astonishment, added, "You do not perceive how and why all this has happened. I could explain to you all these mysteries; but to what purpose? It is not necessary for weak men to know the threads by which their fates are linked together: suffice it to know that it was necessary for you to perform all this, that you might be tried: you are found worthy, and Heaven rewards you with Maryam, the early companion of your youth, now to be your wife." Then Medjeddin turned towards Maryam, and looked inquiringly at Salek, her father. This latter said, "With joy I listen to the will of fate; the highest wish of my heart will now be fulfilled." "Know," continued the genius, "that the slain bird was the enchanter who transformed the princess Jasmin and the prince Mesoud. They were also to pass through trials; thus it was decreed by fate. Because the enchanter only fulfilled the will of fate from selfish motives, and carried his revenge beyond it, and contrary to it, the king of the genii commanded me to slay him." With these words he disappeared from their sight. They returned now in happy union to the city; and El Kattab, who had built his hut at the edge of the wood to be always near the place of his sorrow, dwelt again in his house with his children. The prince proceeded to Zanguebar in the same ship that had brought Medjeddin. He was received there with great joy, and was soon married to his early love. But Medjeddin's name lived long in their memory, and in that of all the inhabitants of that island. When the caliph Haroun al Raschid heard of Medjeddin's return, he had him called before him, and made him relate his history. The caliph was so pleased with him that he took him into his palace, and gave him an important post in his court. His history he caused to be inscribed in the records of his kingdom. And when Giafar, his aged vizier, expressed a wish to end his life in quietness, the caliph raised Medjeddin to the grand viziership; and he continued long in this office, to the pleasure of his friends and the happiness of the people, by whom he was greatly beloved. VIII. THE STORY OF KING BEDREDDIN-LOLO AND HIS VIZIR ATALMULC. The city of Damascus is one of the most populous and flourishing cities of the East, and to this capital of a rich kingdom travellers and caravans arrive from all the countries of the world. Its sovereigns bear the title of "Prince of the Believers," and their person is sacred. Bedreddin-Lolo, king of Damascus, had for his grand vizir a man celebrated in history for his goodness. This minister, whose real name was Aswad, but whose great virtues had acquired for him the surname of Atalmulc[9], was in every way worthy of the high name he had so obtained; uniting to an indefatigable zeal for the king's service a vigilance that nothing could deceive, a penetrating and capacious mind, and a disinterestedness that was universally admired. But he was surnamed the "sorrowful" vizir, because he appeared to be always plunged in a profound melancholy. Whatever he did at court was performed in a grave and serious manner, and he never smiled at the wittiest remark that was made in his presence. One day the king entertained this vizir and Sedif-Elmuloak, his favourite, and related to them, laughing immoderately all the while, the following misfortunes that happened to a rich old miser. THE OLD PAIR OF SLIPPERS. There was at Bagdad a merchant very notorious for his avarice, and his name was Abou-Cassem-Tambouri. Although he was enormously rich, his clothes were constantly in rags and tatters, and his turban, made of coarse stuff, was so dirty that its colour could no longer be distinguished. Of all his garments, however, his slippers were the most remarkable; the soles were kept together by large, clumsy nails, and the upper leathers were pieced in every direction. The famous ship Argo was not made up of a greater number of separate fragments. During the ten years of their existence as slippers, the cleverest cobblers of Bagdad had exerted their utmost skill to tag together their remains, and had only succeeded by adding piece on piece, by which means they had become so heavy, that they had passed into a proverb; and when any one wished to describe something weighty, the slippers of Cassem were always the object of comparison. One day, when this merchant was taking a walk in the great bazaar of the city, a proposal was made to him to buy a considerable quantity of glass; he agreed to the offer, because it was an advantageous one; and having heard a few days afterwards, that a perfumer who had fallen into difficulties had nothing left but some rose-water, which he would of course be obliged to sell as speedily as possible, Cassem took advantage of the poor man's misfortune, and purchased it at less than half its value. This successful stroke of business had put him into good humour, and instead of giving a great feast, according to the custom of Eastern merchants, when they have made an excellent bargain, he thought it better to take a bath, a luxury which he had not enjoyed for a long time. Whilst he was taking off his clothes, one of his friends, or at least one who pretended to be a friend--for it is a rare thing for a miser to have one--remarked to him that his slippers made him the laughing-stock of the whole city, and that he certainly ought to purchase a new pair. "I have long thought of doing so," replied Cassem; "but my old ones are not so very bad, and will last me for some time even yet." While talking, he stripped off his clothes, and entered the bath. At this juncture the cadi of Bagdad came also to take one. Cassem, having finished his bath before the judge, went into the first apartment, where he found his clothes, but not his slippers, which had disappeared, and in their place was a new pair, which our miser was convinced were a present from the man who had made him such a friendly remonstrance about them. With that he made no more ado, but put the new pair on his own feet, thus sparing himself the pain of buying new ones, and left the bath overjoyed with his prize. When the cadi had finished his bath, his slaves looked about in vain, for their master's slippers, and finding only a wretched pair, which were immediately recognized as Cassem's, the police ran after the supposed sharper, and brought him back with the stolen goods upon his feet. The cadi, after having exchanged the slippers, sent Cassem to prison; and, as he was well known to be rich as well as avaricious, he was not allowed to come out of prison until he had paid a handsome fine. On returning home the afflicted Cassem threw his slippers, in a rage, into the Tigris, which flowed beneath his windows. A few days after, some fishermen, drawing up a net heavier than usual, found in it Cassem's slippers. The nails, with which they had been patched, had broken the meshes of the net. The fishermen, out of spite to Cassem and his slippers, threw them into his room by the open window, and in their passage they struck the bottles containing the rose-water, and knocking them down, the bottles were broken and the water totally lost. The grief and wrath of Cassem on seeing this may easily be conceived. He cursed his slippers, and tearing out the hair from his beard, vowed that they should cause him no more mischief; and so saying, he took a spade, and digging a hole in his garden, buried them there. One of his neighbours, however, who had borne him a grudge for a long time, perceived him turning up the earth, and ran and told the governor that Cassem had dug up a treasure in his garden. This was enough to excite the cupidity of the officer, and he sent forthwith for Cassem. In vain our miser declared that he had not found money, that he was only employed in burying his slippers. The governor had calculated on his bribe, and the afflicted Cassem could only regain his liberty by paying down a second large sum. Our friend, in an extremity of despair, consigned his slippers to Shitan[10], and went and threw them into an aqueduct at some distance from the city, thinking that this time he should hear no more of them. But as though the evil spirit he had invoked was determined to play him a trick, the slippers somehow found their way just to the very pipe of the aqueduct, by this means preventing the flowing of the water. The persons who had the care of the aqueduct having gone to ascertain the cause of the stoppage, and to remove it, carried Cassem's slippers to the governor of the city, declaring them to be the cause of all the injury. Their unfortunate owner was thrown again into prison, and condemned to pay a larger fine than before. The governor who had punished the offence, and who pretended to be indebted to no one for any thing, returned Cassem's precious slippers to him again most faithfully; and Cassem, in order to free himself from all the evils which they had brought upon him, resolved to burn them. As they were saturated with water, he first of all put them out to dry in the sun on the terrace of his house. But Cassem's evil genius had not yet quite done with his tricks, and the last which he played him was the worst of all. A neighbour's dog prowling along the terrace on the housetops spied out the slippers, and, darting at them, carried off one of them. As, however, the dog was playing with it, and tossing it about, he contrived to let it fall off the terrace on to the head of a woman who happened to be passing below. The fright and the violence of the blow together, made the poor woman quite ill; and her husband having carried his complaint before the cadi, Cassem was condemned to pay a fine proportionate to the misfortune of which he had been the cause. Going home, he took up his slippers, and returned to the cadi with them in his hands. "My lord," he exclaimed with a vehemence which excited the judge's laughter, "my lord, look at the fatal cause of all my troubles! These abominable slippers have at length reduced me to poverty; be pleased now to issue a decree, in order that the misfortunes which they will, no doubt, still continue to occasion, may not be imputed to me." The cadi could not refuse to comply with this request, and Cassem learned, at great expense, the danger there is in not changing one's slippers often enough. * * * * * The vizir listened to this story with such a serious countenance that Bedreddin was astonished. "Atalmulc," he said, "you are of a strange disposition; you seem always sad and melancholy. During ten years that you have been in my service I have never seen the slightest sign of pleasure on your countenance." "May it please your majesty," replied the vizir, "you need not be surprised at it; all have their secret sorrows; there is no man on earth who is exempt from them." "Your remark is surely untrue," replied the king. "Do you mean to say that all men have some secret anxiety preying on their minds, because you appear in that state? Do you really believe this to be the truth?" "Yes, your majesty," replied Atalmulc; "such is the condition of all the children of Adam; our bosoms are incapable of enjoying perfect ease. Judge of others by yourself. Is your majesty quite contented?" "Oh, as to me," exclaimed Bedreddin, "that is impossible! I have enemies to deal with--the weight of an empire on my hands--a thousand cares to distract my thoughts, and disturb the repose of my life; but I am convinced that there are in the world a vast number of persons whose days run on in unruffled enjoyment." The vizir Atalmulc, however, pertinaciously adhered to what he had stated, so that the king, seeing him so strongly attached to his opinion, said to him: "If no one is exempt from vexation, all the world, at any rate, is not like you, wholly overcome by affliction. You have made me, however, very curious to know what it is that has rendered you so pensive and sorrowful; tell me therefore the reason of your melancholy." "I shall comply with your majesty's wish," replied the vizir, "and reveal the cause of my secret cares to you, by relating the history of my life." THE HISTORY OF ATALMULC, SURNAMED "THE SORROWFUL VIZIR," AND THE PRINCESS ZELICA. I am the only son of a rich jeweller of Bagdad. My father, whose name was Cogia Abdallah, spared no expense in my education; having from my earliest infancy hired masters, who taught me the various sciences, philosophy, law, theology, and more particularly the different languages of Asia, in order that they might be useful to me in my travels, if I should ever make any in that part of the world. Shortly after this my father died, and when the funeral ceremony, which was magnificent, was over, I took possession of all his immense property. Instead of giving myself up to the pursuit of pleasure, I resolved to devote myself to my father's profession. Being well versed in the knowledge of precious stones, I had reason to believe that I should succeed in business, and accordingly I went into partnership with two merchant jewellers of Bagdad, friends of my father, who were about to undertake a trading expedition to Ormus. At Basra we hired a vessel, and embarked on our enterprise from the bay which bears the name of that city. Our companions on board were agreeable; the ship wafted by favourable winds glided swiftly through the waves. We passed the time in festive mirth, and our voyage promised to end as pleasantly as we could desire, when my two associates gave me a startling proof that they were not the honourable characters I had supposed. We were just at the end of our voyage, and being in good spirits on that account, we held a sort of farewell feast, and did ample justice to some exquisite wines which we had laid in at Basra. For my part, being in the highest spirits, I made copious libations, and, on retiring to rest, lay down on a sofa, without taking off my clothes. In the middle of the night, while I was buried in profound slumber, my partners took me up in their arms, and threw me over-board through the cabin window. Death would seem inevitable under the circumstances, and in truth it is still impossible for me to imagine how I was fortunate enough to survive such a catastrophe. The sea was running high at the time, but the waves, as if Heaven had commanded them to spare me, instead of overwhelming me, bore me to the foot of a mountain, and cast me violently on shore. As soon as I recovered the shock, I found myself safe and sound on the beach, where I passed the remainder of the night in thanking God for my deliverance, at which I could not sufficiently wonder. At break of day I clambered up with great difficulty to the top of the mountain, which was very steep, and met there with some peasants of the neighbourhood, who were occupied in collecting crystal, which they afterwards sold at Ormus. I related to them the danger in which my life had been placed, and my escape seemed miraculous to them, as well as to myself. These worthy people took pity on me, gave me part of their provisions, which consisted of honey and rice, and as soon as they had finished gathering their crystal, acted as my guides to the great city of Ormus. I put up at a caravansary, where the first object that met my eyes was one of my associates. His surprise was great at seeing a man whom he no doubt believed to be safely housed in some marine monster's stomach, and he ran off instantly to find his companion, in order to acquaint him with my arrival, and to plan how they should receive me. They soon settled as to their course of proceeding, and, returning to the place where I was, they took no notice of me, and studiously conducted themselves as though they had never seen me before. "O traitors!" I exclaimed, "Heaven frustrated your murderous intentions, and in spite of your cruelty I am still alive; give me back instantly all my precious stones; I will no longer associate with such vile wretches." On hearing these words, which ought to have overwhelmed them with shame and remorse, they had the impudence to reply: "O thief and rogue! who are you, and where do you come from? What precious stones do you speak of that we have belonging to you?" So saying, they set on me, and gave me several blows with a stick. I threatened to complain to the cadi, but they anticipated me by going to that judge themselves. Bowing down before him, after having previously taken care to present him with some valuable brilliants, which no doubt belonged to me, they said to him: "O lamp of justice! light which dispels the darkness of deceit! We have recourse to you. We are poor strangers, come from the ends of the earth to trade here; is it right that a thief should insult us, and will you permit that he should deprive us by an imposture of what we have acquired at the risk of our lives, and after running a thousand dangers?" "Who is the man of whom you make this complaint?" asked the cadi. "My lord," they replied, "we do not know him, we never saw him before this morning." At this moment I presented myself before the judge, to make my own complaint, but as soon as they saw me they exclaimed: "Here is the man--here is the wretch, the arrant thief! He is even impudent enough to venture into your palace, and show himself before you, the very sight of whom ought to frighten the guilty. Great judge, condescend to protect us." I now approached the cadi, in order to address him, but having no presents to make to him, I found it impossible to get him to listen to my story. The calm and unmoved aspect with which I spoke to him, proceeding from the testimony of a good conscience, was thought by the cadi's prejudiced mind to arise from impudence, and he ordered his archers to convey me instantly to prison, an order which they lost no time in executing. So that while I, an innocent man, was loaded with chains, my partners departed, not only unpunished but in triumph, and well persuaded that a new miracle would require to be wrought to deliver me from the hands of the cadi. And, indeed, my escape from my present difficulty might not have been of so fortunate a nature as that from drowning, had not an incident occurred which showed the goodness of Heaven still visibly displayed on my behalf. The peasants who had brought me to Ormus, having heard by chance that I had been put in prison, moved with compassion, went to the cadi, and told him in what way they had fallen in with me, together with all the details which they had heard from myself on the mountain. This recital began to open the eyes of the judge, and caused him to regret that he had not listened to me. He forthwith resolved to investigate the matter; and first of all sent to the caravansary to inquire for the two merchants, but they had hastily decamped, and returned on board the ship, which had put to sea; for in spite of the bias of the cadi in their favour they had taken the alarm. Their rapid flight effectually convinced the judge that I had been committed to prison unjustly, and he gave orders to set me at liberty. Such was the termination of the partnership I had entered into with the two honest jewellers. As one saved from drowning, and the hands of justice, (or rather injustice,) I might well have considered myself eminently bound to return thanks to the Almighty. My situation, however, was such as to render me rather indifferent as to what might happen to me; for I was without money, without friends, without credit, and reduced either to subsist on charity, or to perish of hunger. I quitted Ormus, without knowing what would become of me, and walked in the direction of the prairie of Lar, which is between the mountains and the Persian Gulf. On arriving there, I met a caravan of merchants from Hindostan, who were setting out for Schiras, and, joining myself to them, I gained a subsistence by rendering myself useful on trifling occasions. On our arrival at Schiras, where the shah Tahmaspe held his court, I stopped for some time in that city. One day, when returning from the great mosque to the caravansary where I lodged, I saw an officer of the king of Persia, richly dressed and very handsome; looking at me attentively, he came up to me and said, "Young man, from what country do you come; for I see you are a stranger, and evidently not in a very prosperous condition?" I replied, that I came from Bagdad, and that his conjecture was but too well founded. I then related my history more at length, to which he listened attentively, and with much feeling for my misfortunes. He next asked me how old I was; and when I told him that I was nineteen years of age, he desired me to follow him, and walking before me proceeded to the king's palace, which I entered along with him. Conducting me into a very elegant apartment, he asked me, "What is your name?" I replied, "Aswad;" he then asked many other questions, and being satisfied with my replies, said at last: "Aswad, your misfortunes have affected me greatly, and I wish to assist you as a father: I am the capi-aga[11] of the king of Persia; there is now a place vacant for a new page, and I have appointed you to it. You are young and handsome, and I cannot make a better choice, for there is not one among the present pages who surpasses you in good looks." I thanked the capi-aga for his kindness, and he forthwith took me under his command, and caused me to be equipped in the dress of a page. I was made acquainted with my duties, which I soon learned to discharge in such a manner as to gain the esteem of the zuluflis[12], and to confer honour on my protector. There was a rule that no page of the twelve chambers should, under pain of death, remain in the gardens of the seraglio after a certain hour, when the women were accustomed occasionally to walk there. The same rule extended to all the officers of the palace and the soldiers of the guard. Being in the gardens one evening quite alone, and musing on my misfortunes, I became so lost in thought that I did not perceive that the proper time for men to leave the gardens was already past: knowing that no time was to be lost, I quickened my pace in order to enter the palace, when just as I was turning the corner of one of the walks, a lady appeared before me. She was of a majestic stature, and in spite of the darkness I could see that she was both young and beautiful. "You are in a great hurry," she remarked; "what can it be that obliges you to walk so fast?" "I have very good reasons for doing so," I replied, "and if you belong to the palace, as doubtless you do, you cannot be ignorant of them. You know that men are forbidden to appear in the gardens after a certain hour, and that whoever breaks this rule suffers death." "You have been rather slow in remembering the rule," replied the lady, "for the hour is long past; however, on another account you may thank your stars you have loitered, for if you had not, you would not have met with me." "How unfortunate for me that I should have mistaken the time," I exclaimed, thinking only that I had placed my life in danger. "Don't reproach yourself," said the lady; "if you do, I shall feel offended. You ought to look on your misfortune to be rather a source of congratulation. It is very true that the danger in which you are placed presents ideas disagreeable enough, but it is not quite so certain that you will be beheaded, for the king is a good prince, who may be induced to forgive you. Who are you?" "I am one of the pages," I replied. "Indeed!" she exclaimed, "you make very wise observations for a page; the grand vizir could not make better. Well, don't distress yourself about what may happen to-morrow, the events of which are hidden from you, and are only known to Heaven, which has perhaps even now prepared a means of escape for you. Leave then the future to take care of itself, and think only of the present. If you knew who I am, and the great honour conferred upon you by this adventure, instead of poisoning the precious moments by bitter reflections, you would esteem yourself the most fortunate of mortals." By such animating language the lady at length dispelled my fears: the idea of the punishment which threatened me vanished from my mind as I abandoned myself to the flattering ideas which she held out to me, and I proceeded somewhat over ardently to ingratiate myself with my companion. The next moment, however, as if at a signal from her, I found myself surrounded by ten or a dozen women who had concealed themselves close by, in order to listen to our conversation. It was easy now to see that the woman who had played me this trick was laughing at me. I supposed she was one of the female slaves of the princess of Persia who was desirous of having a little amusement at my expense. All the other women ran quickly to her assistance, and, bursting into laughter, began to surround me, and to joke with me. One remarked that I was of a lively character, and well fitted for an amusing companion. "If I should ever walk all alone at night," said another, "I hope I shall meet with somebody quite as clever as this page." Their pleasantries put me quite out of countenance, while every now and then they laughed outrageously, and I felt as ashamed as if they had rallied me for being too bashful. They even made themselves merry at my having permitted the hour for leaving the gardens to escape me, and said that it would be a pity if I were to die on that account; and that I well deserved to live since I was so devoted to the service of the ladies. The first one then, whom I had heard addressed as Cale-Cairi, said to another, "It is for you, my princess, to determine respecting his lot: is it your wish that he should be abandoned to his fate, or shall we lend him our assistance?" "He must be saved from the danger he is in," replied the princess: "I give my consent for him to live; and, indeed, to the end that he may remember this adventure of his for a long time to come, we must make it still more agreeable to him; let him come to my apartments." When I entered the chamber of Zelica Begum--for such was her name, and she was the princess of Persia--she inquired my name, and how long I had been a page. When I had satisfied her curiosity on these points she said: "Well, Aswad, make yourself at home, and forget that you are in an apartment which is forbidden to be entered by any man: forget that I am Zelica: speak to us as if you were with a party of young ladies, the daughters of plain citizens of Schiras: look attentively at all these young women, and tell me frankly which one among us all you like best." Although Zelica's slaves were perfectly beautiful, and the princess herself might be considered to have a just claim to the preference, my heart decided at once in favour of the charming Cale-Cairi; but concealing sentiments which would seem to cast Zelica into the shade, I said to her that she ought not to place herself in the same rank with the others, or contend with her slaves for the possession of my heart, for that her beauty was such that wherever she was seen, all eyes must be directed to her, and her alone. While speaking thus, however, I could not resist looking at Cale-Cairi in a way which would make her think that my language had been dictated by courtesy alone, and not by the real feelings of my breast. Zelica noticing this, said, "Aswad, you flatter me too much: you must be more candid: I am certain that you have not spoken your real sentiments, and you must really answer me truly in reply to my question: open your inmost soul to us: we all beg you to do this, and you cannot confer a greater pleasure both on myself and all my slaves." Yielding at last to their urgent requests, I threw off my timidity, and addressing myself to Zelica, I said: "I will then endeavour to comply with your highness's wishes: it would be difficult to decide which of the exquisitely beautiful assemblage before me is the most beautiful, but I will avow to you that the amiable Cale-Cairi is the lady for whom the inclinations of my heart plead the most strongly." Zelica, instead of being offended by my boldness, replied: "I am well pleased, Aswad, that you have given the preference to Cale-Cairi; she is my favourite, and that is sufficient to prove that your taste is not bad. You do not know the full worth of the fair lady whom you have chosen: we unite in owning that she excels us all." The princess and her slaves now began to banter Cale-Cairi on the triumph which her charms had achieved--and she received all their witticisms in very good part. Zelica then ordered a lute to be brought, and placing it in Cale's hands, said to her, "Show your lover what you can do with it," and she played upon it in a style which enchanted me, accompanying it at the same time with her voice in a song which indicated that when a lover has made choice of a suitable object, he ought to love that dear one for ever. An old slave at length came to inform us that daylight was approaching, and that there was no time to be lost, if it were intended that I should quit the apartments in safety. Zelica then told me to follow the slave, who led me through many galleries, and by many windings and turnings, until we reached a little gate of which she had the key; and on the door being opened, I went out, and as it was now daylight, I saw that I was no longer in the palace. A few hours after I rejoined my companions. Eight days after this, an eunuch came to the door of the king's apartments, and said that he wished to speak with me. I went to him and inquired what he wanted. "Is not your name Aswad?" he asked. I replied that it was. He then put a note into my hands, and went away. The letter stated that if I felt inclined to pay a visit to the gardens of the seraglio next night, and would be at the same place as before, I should there see a lady who was very sensibly touched with the preference I had given to her over all the princess's women. Although I suspected that Cale-Cairi had taken a fancy to me, I had no idea of receiving such a letter as this from her. Intoxicated with my good luck, I asked leave from the oda-baschi to pay a visit to a dervise--who was a countryman of my own, and who had just arrived from Mecca. Leave being granted me, I ran, or rather flew, to the gardens of the seraglio, as soon as night was come. If, on the first occasion time fled too swiftly and surprised me into stopping after the hour for leaving the gardens, it seemed now too slow in bringing me the promised pleasure, and I thought the hour of retreat would never come. It did come, however, and I could see, shortly afterwards, approaching the place where I was concealed, a lady whom I recognized by her stature and air to be Cale-Cairi. Transported with delight, I drew near, and throwing myself at her feet, I remained for some time prostrate on the ground without speaking a word, so completely had I lost all self-possession. "Rise, Aswad," she said, "I am enraptured at having inspired you with such feelings towards me, for I will confess to you that for my part I have not been able to resist a friendly regard for you. Your youth, good looks, and lively and brilliant wit, but more than all, perhaps, your preferring me to other ladies of great beauty, have endeared you to me. My conduct proves this sufficiently; but, alas! my dear Aswad," she added, sighing, "I scarcely know whether I ought to be proud of the conquest I have made, or rather to regard it as an event which will embitter the whole course of my life." "But, madam," I replied, "why give way to such gloomy presentiments at the very time when your presence brings me such delight?" "It is not," she replied, "a foolish fear that now, at such a moment as this, causes me annoyance and disturbs the pleasure of our meeting; my fears are only too well founded, and you are ignorant of the cause of my grief. The princess Zelica loves you, and when she has freed herself, as she will do soon, from the splendid bondage in which she is held, she will inform you of your happiness. When she confesses to you that you are dear to her, how will you receive such a glorious avowal? Will your love for me hold out against the honour of having the affections of the first princess in the world?" "Yes, charming Cale-Cairi," I said, interrupting her; "I would prefer you even to Zelica. Were it to please Heaven that you should have even a still more formidable rival, you would see that nothing could shake the constancy of a heart that is devoted to you." "Unhappy Aswad!" exclaimed the lady, "whither does your love carry you? What a fatal assurance you are giving me of your fidelity! You forget that I am a slave of the princess of Persia. If you were to repay her kindness by ingratitude you would draw down her anger upon us both, and we should perish. Better it were that I should yield you up to so powerful a rival; it would be the only means of saving ourselves." "No, no," I replied hastily; "there is another means which I should rather choose in my despair, and that would be to banish myself from the court altogether. After my retreat you would be safe from the vengeance of Zelica, and you would regain your peace of mind: by degrees you would forget the unfortunate Aswad, who would retire into the deserts to seek for rest in his misfortunes." I spoke with such deep feeling and truth that the lady was herself overcome with my grief, and said: "Cease, Aswad, to yield to a needless affliction. You are mistaken; your merits are such that it would be wrong to keep you longer in the dark. I am Zelica herself, and not her slave. That night when you came to my apartment I personated Cale-Cairi, and you supposed my attendant to be myself." Zelica then called one of her women, who ran to her from amidst some cypress trees where she was concealed, and I perceived that she was the slave whom I supposed to be the princess of Persia. "Aswad," said the princess to me, "you now see the true Cale-Cairi; I give her back her name and take my own: I have no wish to disguise myself any longer. Although your love is greater than your ambition, I am certain that it will be a source of new pleasure to you to know that the lady who loves you is a princess." We passed nearly the whole night in walking about and conversing, and daylight would no doubt have found us in the gardens, had not Cale-Cairi, who was with us, taken care to inform us that it was time to withdraw. It was needful then that we should separate, but before I parted from Zelica the princess said to me: "Adieu, Aswad! do not forget me. We shall see each other again, and I will soon let you know how dear you are to me." I threw myself at her feet to thank her for so flattering a promise, after which Cale-Cairi took me out by the same winding passages as before, and I then left the seraglio. Beloved by the august princess whom I idolized, and forming an enchanting image of what she had promised me, I abandoned myself to the most pleasing fancies that the mind could depict, when an unlooked-for event deprived me all on a sudden of my proud hopes. I had heard a report that the princess Zelica was ill, and two days afterwards the rumour of her death was circulated in the palace. I was unwilling to give credit to this fatal intelligence, and refused to do so until I saw preparations going for the funeral ceremony. I did not see the whole of it, because excessive grief threw me into a succession of dangerous fainting fits which lasted for a long time. One of the officers of the palace gave directions for me to be carried into the pages' room, where great care was taken of me; my limbs were rubbed with a balm of exceeding virtue, and in spite of my overwhelming misery, such was the progress I made, that in two days my strength was restored. A stay in Schiras, however, having become insupportable, I secretly left the court of Persia three days after the interment of my beloved princess. Overwhelmed with grief, I walked all night without knowing whither I was going or where I ought to go. Next morning, having stopped to rest myself, a young man approached who was dressed in a very extraordinary manner. Coming up to me he saluted me and presented me with a green branch which he held in his hand, and after having civilly made me accept it, he began to recite some Persian verses to induce me to bestow my charity upon him. As I had no money I could not give him any. Thinking that I was ignorant of the Persian language he recited some Arabic verses, but seeing that he had no better success this way than the other, and that I did not do what he wanted, he said to me, "Brother, I cannot persuade myself that you are deficient in charity, but rather in the means wherewith to exercise it." "You are right," I said, "I have not a farthing in the world, and I know not even where to shelter my head." "Unfortunate man," he exclaimed, "what a sad plight you are in; I really pity you, and wish, moreover, to assist you." I was not a little astonished to be thus addressed by a man who had been asking alms of me a moment before, and I supposed that the assistance he offered was merely that of his prayers, when he went on to say: "I am one of those merry fellows they call fakirs; and I can tell you, that though we subsist entirely on charity, we fare none the less sumptuously for that, as we have discovered the secret of exciting the compassion of well-meaning people by an appearance of mortification and penance which we well know how to impart to ourselves. It is true there are a few fakirs fools enough to be really what they seem, and who lead a life of such austerity as sometimes to go ten whole days without the least nourishment. But we are a little less rigorous than these ascetics; we make no pretensions to the reality of their virtues, only to the appearance of them. Will you become one of our fraternity? I am now on my way to meet two of them at Bost; if you have a fancy to make the fourth, you have but to follow me." "I am afraid," I replied, "that not being accustomed to your religious exercises I shall acquit myself but clumsily." "Pray don't trouble yourself," he broke in, "on that head; I repeat to you that we are not fakirs of the austere order; in short, we have really nothing of the fakir about us but the dress." Although I guessed from what the fakir had told me, that he and his companions were in reality three libertines in disguise, I nevertheless did not hesitate to join them; for besides being reckless from sheer misery, I had not learned among the pages of the court many lessons of scrupulousness on the score of morality. As soon as I had signified to the fakir my consent, he set out with me at once for Bost, feeding me on the road with abundance of dates, rice, and other good things, which people presented to him in the towns and villages through which we passed; for the moment his little bell and his peculiar cry became heard, the good Mussulmans came running to him with provisions from all quarters. In this way we arrived at the large town of Bost; we made our way to a small house in the suburbs, where the two other fakirs resided. They received us with open arms, and appeared delighted with my resolution of joining them. They soon initiated me into their mysteries; that is to say, they showed me how to perform their antics. As soon as I was well instructed in the art of imposing on the populace, they sent me into the town to present respectable citizens with flowers or branches, and to recite verses to them. I always returned home with some pieces of silver, which enabled us to live merrily enough. I passed nearly two years with the fakirs, and should have lived there much longer had not the one who had induced me to join them, and whom I liked the best, proposed to me to travel. "Aswad," said he one day, "I am sick of this town; I begin to long to roam a little. I have heard wonderful accounts of the city of Candahar; if you will accompany me we will put the truth of these reports to the test." I consented at once, for I had a curiosity to see some new country, or rather, I was impelled by that superior power which guides our destinies. Accordingly we both quitted Bost, and passing through many cities of Segestan without stopping, we reached the noble city of Candahar, surrounded with its strong fortifications. We betook ourselves to a caravansary, where our dresses, the most commendable thing about us by the way, procured us a kind and hearty reception. We found the inhabitants of the city in a great bustle, as they were going to celebrate the feast of Giulous on the following day. We learned that at court they were no less busy, as every one was anxious to show his attachment for the king Firouzshah, who had earned by his justice the love of all good men, and still more by his rigour the fear of the wicked. The fakirs going where they please without hindrance, we proceeded next day to court to witness the festival, which however had few charms for the eyes of a man who had seen the Giulous of the king of Persia. Whilst we were attentively watching what passed, I felt myself pulled by the sleeve, and turning round, perceived close to me the very eunuch who, in the shah's palace, had been the bearer of Cale-Cairi's, or rather Zelica's letter. "My lord," he whispered, "I recognized you at once in spite of your strange dress; but indeed, though I flatter myself I am never mistaken, I am not quite sure whether on the present occasion I ought not to doubt the evidence of my own eyes. Is it possible that it is you I have met here?" "And pray," I asked in reply, "what are you doing at Candahar, and why have you left the court of Persia? Can the death of the princess Zelica have driven you away as it did me?" "That," replied he, "is exactly what I cannot tell you at this moment, but I will amply satisfy your curiosity if you will meet me here to-morrow alone at the same hour. I have a few things to tell you which will astonish you, and which--let me add--concern you not a little." I promised to return alone to the same spot the following day, and took care to keep my word. The eunuch was there, and coming up to me, proposed that we should leave the palace and seek some place better adapted for conversation. We accordingly went out into the city, and after traversing several streets, stopped at last at the door of a good-sized house, of which he had the key. We entered, and I observed suites of apartments magnificently furnished, delicious carpets and luxurious sofas, whilst through the windows I perceived a garden beautifully laid out, with a delightful piece of water in the middle, bordered with variegated marble. "My lord Aswad," said the eunuch, "I trust the house pleases you." "I am delighted with it," I replied. "I am glad to hear you say so," he returned, "for I yesterday took it, just as you see it, for _you_. You will next want slaves to wait on you. I will go and purchase some whilst you take a bath." So saying, he conducted me to a chamber, where I found baths all ready. "In Heaven's name," I exclaimed, "tell me for what purpose you have brought me here, and what the news is you have promised to tell me." "At the proper time and place," he rejoined, "you shall learn all; for the present be content to know that your lot is materially changed since I met you, and that I have my orders for every thing I am doing." As he spoke, he assisted me to undress--a process which did not take long--I entered the bath and the eunuch left me, enjoining patience. All this mystery furnished ample food for conjecture, but I wearied myself fruitlessly in endeavouring to fathom it. Schapour left me a long time in the bath, and my patience was beginning to be exhausted, when he returned, followed by four slaves, two of whom carried towels and garments, and the others all sorts of provisions. "I beg your pardon, my lord," said he, "I am extremely sorry I have kept you waiting so long." At the same time the slaves placed their bundles on the sofas and proceeded to wait on me: they rubbed me with towels of the finest texture, and then dressed me in rich garments, with a magnificent robe and turban. "What on earth is all this to end in?" said I to myself; "and by whose orders can it be that this eunuch treats me in such a manner?" My impatience to be enlightened became so lively that I could not conceal it. Schapour soon perceived it, and said: "It is with the deepest regret that I see you so restless and uneasy, but I cannot yet relieve you. Even supposing I had not been expressly forbidden to say a word, or even supposing that I betrayed my trust, and told you every thing I am now concealing from you, I should not succeed in tranquillizing you in the least; anxieties still more harassing would take the place of those which now worry you--you must wait till night, and you shall then learn all you desire to know." Though I would not but augur well from what the eunuch said, yet it was impossible to help being for the rest of the day in a state of cruel suspense. I really believe that the expectation of evil causes less real suffering than that of some great pleasure. The night however came at last, and the slaves proceeded to light up the whole house, and particularly the principal apartment, with wax candles. In this apartment I took my seat with Schapour, who, to assuage my impatience, kept saying to me, "They will be here in a moment--have but a little more patience." At last we heard knocking at the door, the eunuch went himself to open it, and returned with a lady whom, the moment she raised her veil, I recognized as Cale-Cairi. My surprise was extreme, for I believed her to be at Schiras. "My lord Aswad," said she, "however astonished you may be to see me, you will be much more so when you hear the story I have to tell you." At these words Schapour and the slaves quitted the apartment, leaving me alone with Cale-Cairi; we both sat down on the same sofa, and she commenced her narration as follows: "You recollect well, my lord, that night on which Zelica made herself known to you, nor can you yet have forgotten the promise she made you on leaving. The following day I asked her whether she had come to any resolution what course to pursue in the matter; I represented to her the absurdity of a princess of her rank dreaming of exposing herself to disgrace and death for the sake of a mere page; in short, I used every effort to overcome her passion; and you may well pardon me for doing so, as all my reasoning served but to strengthen her attachment. When I saw I was utterly unable to prevail with her, 'Madam,' I said at length, 'I cannot contemplate without shuddering the danger into which you are rushing, but since no consideration seems powerful enough to detach you from your lover, we must endeavour to contrive some plan for you to meet without endangering either your life or his. I have thought of one which would doubtless be gratifying to your affection, but it seems to me so daring that I hardly like to propose it.' "'Let me hear it at once, Cale-Cairi,' said the princess; 'whatever it may be, pray do not keep it from me.' "'If you put it in practice,' replied I, 'you must make up your mind to quit the court and live as though you had been born to the humblest lot in life. You must renounce all the honours of your rank. Do you love Aswad sufficiently to make so great a sacrifice?' "'_Do_ I love him?' returned she, drawing a deep sigh. 'Ah! the very humblest lot with him would please me far more than all the pomp and luxury with which I am now surrounded. Only point out to me what I can do in order to enjoy his society without constraint and without impropriety, and I am ready to do it without a moment's hesitation.' "'Well, madam,' I replied, 'since I perceive it is useless to endeavour to overcome your attachment, I will do all in my power to favour it. I am acquainted with the properties of a herb of singular power. One leaf of it placed in your ear will in an hour bring on so lethargic a sleep that you will appear quite dead; they will then perform the funeral rites, and carry you to your tomb, from which at nightfall I can easily release you--'" Here I interrupted Cale-Cairi, "Great Heavens!" I exclaimed, "is it possible that the princess Zelica did not die after all--what then has become of her?--" "My lord," said Cale-Cairi, "she is still alive. But pray listen patiently to my story, and you will learn all that you desire to know. My mistress," she continued, "threw herself into my arms with joy, so clever did my plan appear to her; presently, however, she began to perceive many difficulties connected with the rites and observances usual at funerals. I removed all her doubts, and thus we set about the execution of our plan. "Zelica complained of a terrible pain in her head, and went to bed. The next morning I spread a report that she was dangerously ill; the royal physician was sent for; it was no difficult matter to deceive him. He sent some remedies which of course were never taken. From day to day the princess's illness increased; and as soon as, in my judgment, her last moments ought to approach, I placed in her ear a leaf of the herb I have mentioned. I immediately after ran to the shah, and told him the princess had but a few moments to live, and desired anxiously to speak to him. He came to her at once, and, observing that, as the herb began its work, her face changed rapidly, he was deeply moved, and began to weep. "'My lord,' said his daughter, in faint accents, 'I implore you, by the love you have always borne me, to order my last wishes to be carried out to the letter. My wish is, that when I am dead, no one but Cale-Cairi shall be permitted to wash my body, and that none of my other slaves shall share that honour with her. I also beg that none but she shall watch my tomb the first night, that no tears but hers shall fall on it, and that her prayers alone shall ascend to the prophet, to avert from me the assaults of evil spirits.' "Shah Tahmaspe promised his daughter that I alone should perform for her these last sad duties. "'But this is not all, my lord,' continued she; 'I also implore you to give Cale-Cairi her liberty the moment I am no more, and to give her, with her freedom, presents worthy of yourself and of the affection she has always evinced towards me.' "'My child,' replied the shah, 'make yourself perfectly easy on all the matters you have commended to my notice; should it be my misfortune to lose you, I swear that your favourite slave, loaded with presents, shall be at liberty to go whither she pleases.' "He had hardly done speaking when the herb completed its work. Zelica lost all consciousness, and her father, supposing her to be dead, retired to his own apartments in deep grief. He gave orders that I alone should wash and embalm the body, which I pretended to do, and then wrapping it in a white cloth, laid it in the coffin. The princess was then carried in great pomp to the tomb, where by the shah's express orders I was left alone for the first night. I made a careful survey all round, to assure myself that no one was on the watch, and, not having discovered any one, I roused my mistress at once from her sleep in the coffin, made her put on a dress and veil I had concealed under my own, and we both repaired to a spot where Schapour was in waiting. The faithful eunuch conducted the princess to a small house which he had taken, and I returned to the tomb to pass the remainder of the night. I made up a bundle to represent the corpse, covered it with the same cloth in which I had previously wrapped Zelica, and placed it in the coffin. The next morning the princess's other slaves came to take my place, which I took care not to leave without previously indulging in all the expressions of inconsolable grief usual on such occasions. A faithful account of this exhibition of woe was duly carried to the king's ear, who was induced by it to make me presents far beyond what he had determined on. He ordered me ten thousand sequins out of his treasury, and granted me permission, the moment I asked it, to quit the court and carry with me the eunuch Schapour. I immediately proceeded to join my mistress, and congratulate her on the complete success of our stratagem. Next day we sent the eunuch to the royal apartments with a note asking you to come and see me. But one of your attendants told him you were ill, and could see no one. Three days after we sent him again; he brought back word that you had left the palace, and that no one knew what had become of you. We caused search to be made for you all through the city; Schapour left nothing undone in order to discover you; and when at last we gave up the search in despair and left Schiras, we took the road to the Indus, because we thought it just possible that you might have turned your steps in that direction;--and, stopping at every town on our route, we set on foot the most careful inquiries, which nevertheless proved entirely useless. "One day, on our road from one city to another, though we were travelling with a caravan, a vast horde of robbers surrounded us, and, in spite of a vigorous defence, swept down the merchants and plundered their goods. Of us, of course, they soon made themselves masters, robbed us of our money and jewels, carried us to Candahar, and sold us to a slave merchant of their acquaintance. This merchant had no sooner secured Zelica, than he resolved to show her to the king of Candahar. Firouzshah was charmed the moment he saw her, and asked her whence she came. She told him Ormus was her native place, and answered the prince's other inquiries in a similar manner. In the end he purchased us, and placed us in the palace of his wives, where the handsomest apartments were assigned to us. Passionately though she is loved by the king of Candahar, she cannot, nevertheless, forget you; and, though he sighs at her feet, he has never succeeded in obtaining the slightest proof of any return of attachment. No one ever saw any thing like the joy she exhibited yesterday when Schapour informed her he had met with you. She was quite beside herself all the rest of the day. She ordered Schapour instantly to engage a furnished house for you, to conduct you there to-day, and to suffer you to want for nothing. I am now here by her orders to inform you of the several things I have communicated, and to prepare you to see her in the course of to-morrow night. We shall leave the palace unobserved, and let ourselves in here by a small door in the garden wall, of which we have had a key made for us." As she uttered these last words the favourite slave of the princess of Persia rose and quitted the apartment, in order to return to her mistress, and Schapour accompanied her. I could do nothing all that night but think of Zelica, my love for whom seemed to return with tenfold ardour. Sleep never approached my eyelids, and the following day seemed a century. At last, as I almost began to think I should fall a victim to the agonies of suspense, I heard a knocking at the door; my slaves ran to open it, and the next moment I saw my princess entering the room. How shall I describe the feelings which her presence excited in me! and for her part what was her delight to see me once more! I threw myself at her feet and for some time could do nothing but embrace them without uttering a syllable. At length she forced me to rise, and seating me next her on the sofa, "Aswad," said she, "I render thanks to Heaven for reuniting us; let us now hope that the goodness of Providence will not stop here, but will remove the new obstacle which hinders our union. In expectation of the arrival of that happy hour we will live here in contentment; and if circumstances prevent our meeting unconstrainedly, we can at least enjoy the consolation of hearing daily news of each other, as well as of occasional secret interviews." In such conversation we passed the greater part of the night. Next day, in spite of the happy thoughts which now filled my mind, I did not forget the fakir in whose company I had come to Candahar; and picturing to myself his uneasiness at not knowing where I was, I determined to go and find him out. I met him by accident in the street and we embraced each other. "My friend," said I, "I was on my way to your caravansary to inform you of what has happened to me, and to set your mind at ease. No doubt I have occasioned you some uneasiness." "That is true enough," replied he; "I was in no small trouble about you. But what a change! What clothes are these you appear in? You seem to have been in luck. Whilst I was worrying myself about what had become of you, you were passing your time, as it seems to me, pleasantly enough." "I confess it, my dear friend," replied I; "and I can assure you, moreover, that I am a thousand times happier than it is possible for you to conceive. I want you not only to be witness of my good fortune, but to profit by it as well. Quit your caravansary and come and live with me." So saying, I led him to my house and showed him all over it. He admired the rooms and the furniture amazingly, and every now and then would exclaim, "O Heaven! what has Aswad done more than other men to deserve such an accumulation of good fortune?" "What, now, fakir," asked I, "do you view my happy condition with chagrin? It seems to me that my good fortune is positively annoying to you." "On the contrary," returned he, "it affords me the liveliest satisfaction; so far from envying my friends' happiness, I am never so happy as when I see them flourishing." As he concluded this speech he embraced me ardently, the better to persuade me of the sincerity of his words. I believed him sincere, and acting towards him myself in the most perfect good faith, betrayed myself without the least mistrust into the hands of the most envious, the most cowardly, and the most treacherous of men. In this way we continued to live for some time. Schapour or Cale-Cairi brought me daily intelligence of my beloved princess, and an occasional stolen interview elevated me to the seventh heaven of happiness. The fakir expressed the liveliest interest in the progress of my attachment, and I confided to him, as to my bosom friend, every particular of my life. One day, as I was reposing on a sofa and dreaming of Zelica, I was aroused by a great noise in my house. I rose in order to ascertain the cause, and to my great dismay, found that it was occasioned by a body of Firouzshah's own guards. "Follow me," said the officer in command; "our orders are to conduct you to the palace." "What crime have I committed?" asked I; "of what am I accused?" "We have not been informed," replied the officer; "our orders are merely to carry you before the king; we know nothing about the cause: but I may tell you for your comfort, that if you are innocent you have nothing whatever to fear, for you have to do with a prince of the strictest justice, who never lightly condemns any one who is brought before him. He requires the most convincing proofs before he will pass an adverse sentence; but it is true at the same time that he punishes the guilty with the utmost rigour, so that, if you are guilty, I pity you." There was no help for it; I was obliged to follow the officer. On my way to the palace I said to myself, "Firouzshah has no doubt discovered my correspondence with Zelica; but how can he have learned it?" As we crossed the court-yard of the palace I observed that four gibbets had been erected there. I made a shrewd guess at their destination, and apprehended that this kind of death was the least part of the punishment I had to expect from the wrath of Firouzshah. I raised my eyes to heaven and prayed that at least the princess of Persia might be saved from this. We entered the palace; the officer who had charge of me conducted me into the king's apartment. That prince was there, attended only by his grand vizir and the fakir. The moment I perceived my treacherous friend I saw that I had been betrayed. "It is you, then," said Firouzshah to me, "who has secret interviews with my favourite. Wretch! you must be bold indeed to dare to trifle with me! Speak, and reply exactly and truly to my questions:--When you came to Candahar, were you not told that I was a severe punisher of criminals?" I replied that I was informed of it. "Well," he continued, "since you knew that, why have you committed the greatest of all crimes?" "Sire," I answered, "may your majesty's days last for ever. You know that love gives courage to the dove: a man possessed by a violent passion fears nothing: I am ready to be a victim to your just wrath; and as to any tortures that may be reserved for me I shall not complain of your severity, provided you grant a pardon to your favourite. Alas! she was living peacefully in your palace before I came here, and would soon have been contented with rendering a great king happy, while gradually forgetting an unfortunate lover whom she never thought to see again. Knowing that I was in this city, her former attachment returned. It was I that separated her from your affection, and your punishment should fall on me alone." While I was thus speaking, Zelica, who had been sent for by the king's order, entered the apartment, followed by Schapour and Cale-Cairi, and hearing the last words I uttered, ran forward and threw herself at the feet of Firouzshah. "Great prince!" she exclaimed, "forgive this young man: it is on your guilty slave, who has betrayed you, that your vengeance ought to fall." "Traitors that you both are!" exclaimed the king "expect no favour either of you: die! both of you. This ungrateful woman only implores my kindness in behalf of the rash man who has offended me; while his sensibilities are only alive to the loss of her whom he loves; both of them thus parading in my very sight their amorous madness; what insolence! Vizir!" he cried, turning to his minister, "let them be led away to execution. Hang them up on gibbets, and after their death, let their carcasses be thrown to the dogs and the vultures." The officers were leading us away, when I resolved on one more desperate effort to save the princess. "Stop, sire!" I shouted at the top of my voice, "take care what you do, and do not treat with ignominy the daughter of a king! Let your jealousy even in its fury have respect to the august blood from which she has sprung!" At these words Firouzshah appeared thunderstruck, and then addressing Zelica, he inquired, "Who then is the prince who is your father?" The princess looked at me with a proud countenance, and said: "Alas! Aswad, where was your discretion? how is it that you have told what I wished to conceal, if it were possible, even from myself? I should have had the consolation in death of knowing that my rank was a secret, but in disclosing it, you have overwhelmed me with shame. Learn then who I am," she continued, addressing herself to Firouzshah; "the slave whom you have condemned to an infamous death is the daughter of shah Tahmaspe!" She then related her whole story, without omitting the slightest circumstance. When she had concluded her recital, which increased the king's astonishment, she said to him, "Now I have revealed a secret which it was my intention to bury in my own breast, and which nothing but the indiscretion of my lover could have wrung from me. After this confession, which I make with extreme humiliation, I beg that you will instantly give orders for my immediate execution. This is the only favour I now ask of your majesty." "Madam," replied the king, "I revoke the order for your death: I have too great a love for justice not to honour your faithfulness: what you have told me makes me look upon you in a different light; I have no complaint to make against you, and I set you at liberty. Live for Aswad, and may the happy Aswad live for you! Schapour also and your friend have life and liberty granted to them. Go, most faithful lovers, and may you pass the rest of your days in the enjoyment of each other's society, and may nothing interrupt the course of your happiness. As for you, traitor," he continued, turning to the fakir, "you shall be punished for your treason, for your base and envious heart, which could not endure to see the happiness of your friend, and led you to deliver him up yourself to my vengeance. Miserable wretch! You shall yourself be the victim of my jealousy!" While this villain was being led to the gallows, Zelica and I threw ourselves at the feet of the king of Candahar, and bathed them with tears of gratitude and joy. We assured him that we should ever retain a grateful sense of his generous goodness. And at length we left his palace, accompanied by Schapour and Cale-Cairi, with the intention of taking up our lodging at a caravansary. We were just about to enter, when an officer sent by the king accosted us. "I come," he said, "from my master, Firouzshah, to offer you a lodging: the grand vizir will lend you a house of his, situated at the gates of the city, where you will be very commodiously lodged. I will be your conductor thither, if you will allow me, and will take the trouble to follow me." We accompanied him, and soon arrived at a house of imposing appearance, and elegant architecture: the interior corresponded to the outside appearance. Every thing was magnificent, and in good taste. There were more than twenty slaves, who told us that their master had desired them to supply us with every thing that we wanted, and to treat us as they would himself all the time that we remained in the house. Here my marriage with the princess was duly celebrated, though with the strictest privacy. Two days after we received a visit from the grand vizir, who brought an immense quantity of presents from the king. There were bales of silk and cloth of India, with twenty purses, each containing a thousand sequins of gold. As we did not feel ourselves quite at our ease in a house which was not our own, and as the king's bounty enabled us to go elsewhere, we joined ourselves to a great caravan of merchants, who were proceeding to Bagdad, where we arrived without encountering any disaster. We took up our lodgings at my own house, where we remained for a few days after our arrival, for the purpose of recovering ourselves from the fatigue of our long journey. I then went into the city and visited my friends, who were astonished to see me, as they had been told by my associates on their return, that I was dead. As soon as I knew that they were at Bagdad, I hastened to the grand vizir, threw myself at his feet, and related their perfidious conduct towards me. He gave orders for their immediate arrest, and commanded them to be interrogated in my presence. "Is it not true," I asked them, "that I awoke when you took me up in your arms, that I asked what you intended doing with me, and that without replying you threw me out through the porthole of the ship into the sea?" They replied that I must have been dreaming, and that I must certainly have thrown myself into the sea when asleep. "Why then," said the vizir, "did you pretend not to know him at Ormus?" They replied that they had not seen me at Ormus. "Traitors!" he replied, eyeing them with a threatening aspect, "what will you say, when I show you a certificate from the cadi of Ormus, proving the contrary?" At these words, which the vizir only made use of to put them to the proof, my associates turned pale and became confused. The vizir noticed their altered looks, and bade them confess their crime, that they might not be compelled to do so, by being put to the torture. They then confessed every thing and were conveyed to prison, until the caliph should be informed of the matter, and give his orders respecting the kind of death which they were to undergo. In the mean time, however, they contrived to make their escape, either by bribing their guards, or deceiving their vigilance, and concealed themselves so carefully in Bagdad, that all search after them proved ineffectual. Their property, however, was confiscated to the caliph, excepting a small part which was bestowed upon me, by way of some compensation for the robbery. After this all my ambition consisted in living a quiet life with the princess, with whom I was perfectly united in love and affection. My constant prayer to Heaven was, that such a state of felicity might be continued to us; but alas! how vain are the wishes and hopes of man, who is never destined to enjoy unruffled repose for a long time, but whose existence is continually disturbed by contending cares and sorrows! Returning home one evening from partaking of an entertainment with some friends, I knocked at the door of my house, but could get no one to admit me, although I knocked loudly and repeatedly. I was surprised at this, and began to form the gloomiest conjectures. I redoubled my knocks at the door, but no slave came to admit me. What can have happened? I thought; can this be some new misfortune that has befallen me? Such were my surmises. At the noise I made several neighbours came out of their houses, and being as astonished as myself at none of the domestics appearing, we broke open the door, and on entering found my slaves lying on the floor, with their throats cut, and weltering in their blood. We passed from them to Zelica's apartment, and here another frightful spectacle presented itself, for we found both Schapour and Cale-Cairi stretched lifeless on the ground, bathed in their blood. I called on Zelica, but received no reply. I searched every room and corner in the house, but without finding her. Such a blow was too much for me, and I sank back in a swoon in the arms of my neighbours. Happy would it have been for me had the angel of death at that moment borne me away; but no! it was the will of Heaven that I should live to see the full horror of my fate. When my neighbours by their attentions had succeeded in recalling me to life, I asked how it was possible that so terrible a slaughter could have taken place in my house, and not the slightest sound of it have been heard by them. They replied that they were as astonished as I was at the circumstance. I then ran to the cadi, who despatched his nayb[13] into all the surrounding country with all his asas[14], but their inquiries were fruitless, and every one formed his own conjecture respecting this horrible tragedy. As for myself, I believed, as well as many others, that my former partners were the perpetrators of the crime. My grief was so intense that I fell ill, and continued in a languishing state at Bagdad for a long time. When I recovered I sold my house, and went to reside at Mossoul, carrying with me the wreck of my fortune. I adopted this course because I had a relation there of whom I was extremely fond, and who belonged to the household of the grand vizir of the king of Mossoul. My relation received me very cordially, and in a short time I became known to the minister, who, thinking that he saw in me good business talents, gave me some employment. I endeavoured to discharge effectively the duties entrusted to me, and I had the good fortune to succeed. His satisfaction with me daily increased, and I became insensibly initiated into the most secret state affairs, the weight of which I even assisted him to bear. In a few years this minister died, and the king, who was perhaps too partial to me, appointed me to his place, which I filled for two years, to the satisfaction of the king, and the contentment of the people. To mark, also, how much he was pleased with my conduct as minister, he first gave me the name of Atalmulc. And now envy soon began to be excited against me. Some of the chief nobles became my secret enemies, and plotted my ruin. The better to secure their ends, they instilled suspicions respecting me into the mind of the prince of Mossoul, who, being influenced by their unfavourable insinuations, asked the king, his father, to deprive me of power. The king at first refused, but yielded at last to the urgent requests of his son. I thereupon left Mossoul, and came to Damascus, where I had soon the honour of being presented to your majesty. I have now related to you, sire, the history of my life, and the cause of the deep grief in which I seem to be buried. The abduction of Zelica is ever present to my mind, and renders me insensible to every kind of pleasure. If I could learn that she was no more in life, I might, perhaps, lose the recollection of her, as I did before; but the uncertainty of her fate brings her ever back to my memory, and constantly feeds my grief. CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF KING BEDREDDIN-LOLO AND HIS VIZIR. When the vizir Atalmulc had concluded the recital of his adventures, the king said to him: "I am no longer surprised at your melancholy, for you have, indeed, good reason for it; but every one has not, like you, lost a princess, and you are wrong in thinking that there is not one man in the world who is perfectly satisfied with his condition." For the purpose of proving to his grand vizir that there are men in this state, the king of Damascus said, one day, to his favourite Seyf-Elmulouk, "Go into the city, walk before the shop of the artisans, and bring me here immediately the man who seems the gayest of the gay." The favourite obeyed, and returned to Bedreddin in a few hours. "Well," said the monarch, "have you done what I commanded you?" "Yes, sire," replied the favourite, "I passed in front of several shops, and saw all descriptions of workmen who sung while at their various occupations, and seemed quite contented with their lot. I noticed one among them, a young weaver, named Malek, who laughed with his neighbours till I thought he would have split his sides, and I stopped to have some chat with him. 'Friend,' I said, 'you appear to be very merry.' 'Yes,' he replied, 'it is my way: I don't encourage melancholy.' I asked his neighbours if it was true that he was of such a happy turn of mind, and they all assured me that he did nothing but laugh from morning till night. I then told him to follow me, and I have brought him to the palace. He is now at hand: does your majesty wish him to be introduced to your presence?" "By all means," replied the king, "bring him here, for I wish to speak with him." Seyf-Elmulouk immediately left the king's cabinet and returned in an instant, followed by a good-looking young man, whom the favourite presented to the king. The weaver threw himself down at the monarch's feet, who said to him, "Rise, Malek, and tell me truly if you are as happy as you seem to be: I am told you do nothing but laugh and sing the live-long day while at your work: you are thought to be the happiest man in my dominions, and there is reason to believe that such is really the case. Tell me whether or not this is a correct judgment, and if you are contented with your condition. This is a matter that I am concerned to know; and I desire that you will speak without disguise." "Great king," replied the weaver, standing up, "may your majesty's days last to the end of the world, and be interwoven with a thousand delights, unmixed with the slightest misfortune. Excuse your slave from satisfying your curiosity. If it is forbidden to lie to kings, it must also be owned that there are truths that we dare not reveal. I can only say that a false idea is entertained respecting me: in spite of my laughter and songs, I am perhaps the most unfortunate of men. Be contented with this avowal, sire, and do not compel me to relate my misfortunes to you." "I am resolved to have them," replied the king. "Why should you be afraid to tell them? Are they not creditable to you?" "Of this your majesty must judge," replied the weaver. "I had resolved to keep them to myself, but since it is necessary I will proceed with my story." The weaver then began as follows:-- THE STORY OF MALEK AND THE PRINCESS SCHIRINE. I am the only son of a merchant of Surat, who left me at his death considerable wealth, most of which I squandered away in a very short time. I was nearly at the end of my property, when one day a stranger, who was going to the island of Serendib, happened to be dining with me. The conversation turned on voyages and travels: some who were present praised the advantages and the pleasure attending them, and others expatiated on their dangers. Among the guests there were a few persons who had travelled extensively, and who gave us detailed accounts of their experience in this adventurous kind of life. Between their accounts of the strange and curious scenes which they had witnessed and of the dangers which they had encountered, my mind was kept in suspense, as I conceived a strong desire to travel, and yet felt afraid of the accompanying risks. After listening to all that was related, I remarked: "It is impossible to hear your striking account of the pleasure experienced by you in travelling over the world without feeling a strong wish to travel also; but the dangers to which a traveller is exposed deprive me of all inclination for visiting foreign countries. If it were possible," I added, smiling, "to go from one end of the earth to the other, without meeting with any bad accident by the way, I would leave Surat to-day." These words excited universal laughter, but the stranger before alluded to remarked: "O Malek! if you have a desire to travel, and if nothing prevents you but the fear of encountering robbers and other dangers, I will teach you whenever you have a mind, a method of travelling at your pleasure, and without peril, from one kingdom to another." I thought he was joking, but after dinner he took me aside, and told me that he would pay me a visit the following morning and show me something extraordinary. He was true to his word, for the next day he came to see me, and said, "I mean to keep my promise, but some days must elapse before you can see the effect, for what I have to show you is a piece of workmanship which cannot be constructed in a day. Send therefore for a carpenter; let one of your slaves go for him, and let them both return with planks and other materials according to this list." I immediately complied with his request. When the slave and the carpenter returned, the stranger directed the latter to construct a box in the form of a bird, six feet in length and four in breadth, the upper part open, so as to admit a man to sit in it. The artisan immediately set to work, and the stranger on his part was not idle, for he made or brought from his lodging several parts of the machine, such as wings, wheels, and springs. For several days the carpenter and he worked together, and afterwards the former was dismissed, while the stranger spent one day in putting together the machinery and finishing the work. At length on the sixth day the box was finished, and covered with a Persian carpet. I observed that in this box there were several apertures, as well to admit air as to serve for look-outs. At the stranger's desire I then ordered some of my slaves to carry it into the country, whither I followed with the stranger. When we arrived at the spot he said to me, "Send away your slaves and let no one be here but ourselves. I do not wish to have other persons present beside yourself to see what I am about to do." I ordered my slaves to return home, while I remained alone with the stranger. I was very anxious to know what he intended to do with this machine, and eagerly watched his movements. He removed the carpet, and stepped inside. In a moment the box began to ascend above the earth and soared into the sky with incredible swiftness, carrying him rapidly to a great distance in the clouds; before I had recovered from my astonishment he was down again on the ground. I cannot express to you my amazement at witnessing this miracle of art. "You behold," said the stranger to me, as he stepped out of the machine, "a very quiet carriage, and you must admit that in travelling in it there is no fear of being robbed on the journey. This is the method I spoke of, and I now make you a present of the machine to be employed by you if ever you should take a fancy to visit foreign countries. Do not suppose that there is any magic or black art in what you have seen: it is neither by cabalistic words nor by virtue of a talisman that the box rises above the earth: its motion is produced merely by an ingenious adaptation of machinery. I am perfectly conversant with the mechanical arts, and know how to construct other machines quite as surprising as this one." I thanked the stranger for such a rare gift, and as a mark of my gratitude presented him with a purse of sequins. I then requested him to instruct me how to set the machine in motion. "It is very easily done," he said, and requested me to step into the box along with him: he then touched a spring and we immediately mounted up into the air; when there, he next showed me how to steer the machine. "By turning this screw," he said, "you will go to the right, and that other screw will take you to the left; by touching this spring you will ascend, and the same operation applied to another spring will cause you to descend." I wanted to make the experiment myself: I turned the screws and touched the springs, and the machine, obedient to my hand, went whither I pleased; I quickened its movements, or slackened them, just as I wished. After having taken several turns in the air, we directed our flight towards my house and alighted in the garden. We reached home before my slaves, who were astonished beyond measure when they found we had returned. I shut up the box in my room, where I watched it more carefully than any heap of gold; and the stranger departed as well satisfied with me as I was with him. I continued to amuse myself in the society of my friends until I had eaten and drunk all my fortune--was compelled to borrow money, and eventually got over head and ears in debt. As soon as it was known in Surat that I was a ruined man, I lost all credit; no one would trust me, and my creditors being impatient to get their money, sent me summonses to pay them. Finding myself almost penniless, and consequently exposed to all kinds of insults and mortifications, I had recourse to my machine, and dragging it out one night from my room into the open air, I stepped into it, taking with me some provisions and the little money I had left. I touched the spring which caused the machine to ascend; and then moving one of the screws, I turned my back upon Surat and my creditors, without any fear of their sending the officers after me. I put on as much propelling power as possible all night, and it seemed to me that my flight was swifter than the winds. At daybreak I looked out of one of the apertures in the carpet to see whereabouts I was. I could see nothing but mountains, precipices, a barren country, and a frightful desert. Wherever I looked I could discover no signs of human habitations. During all that day and the following night I continued my aërial tour, and next day I found myself above a very thick wood, near which was a fine city situated in an extensive plain. I stopped here in order to take a view of the city, as well as of a magnificent palace which I saw at some distance from it at the extremity of the plain. I was extremely anxious to know where I was, and began to ponder in what way I could satisfy my curiosity, when I observed a peasant at work in a field. I descended in the wood, left my box there, and going up to the labourer, asked the name of the city. "Young man," he replied, "it is easy to see that you are a stranger, since you do not know that this is the renowned city of Gazna, where the just and valiant king Bahaman resides." "And who lives," I asked, "in the palace at the end of the plain?" "The king of Gazna," he replied, "has built it in order to keep his daughter, the princess Schirine, shut up there; for the princess's horoscope declares that she is threatened with being deceived by a man. Bahaman, for the purpose of evading this predicted danger, has erected this palace, which is built of marble, and surrounded by a deep ditch. The gate is formed of Indian steel, and while the king himself keeps the key, a numerous body of troops keep watch round it day and night to prevent any man from gaining entrance. The king goes once a week to see his daughter, and then returns to Gazna. Schirine's only companions in the palace are a governess and a few female slaves." I thanked the peasant for his information, and directed my steps towards the city. When I was near to it, I heard the noise of an approaching multitude, and soon espied a vast crowd of horsemen magnificently attired, and mounted on very fine horses richly caparisoned. I perceived in the midst of this splendid cavalcade a tall individual, with a crown of gold on his head, and whose dress was covered with diamonds. I concluded that this person was the king of Gazna, going to visit the princess his daughter; and, in fact, I learned in the city that my conjecture was correct. After having made the circuit of the city, and somewhat satisfied my curiosity, I bethought me of my machine; and although I had left it in a spot which seemed to promise security, I became uneasy on its account. I left Gazna and had no peace of mind until I reached the place where I had left the box, which I found quite safe. I then became tranquil, and partook with a good appetite of the food which I had brought with me, and as night was coming on, I resolved to pass it in the wood. I had reason to hope that a profound sleep would soon overpower me, for latterly my debts, as well as the general complication of my affairs, had naturally caused me much uneasiness and many sleepless nights: but my wishes were in vain, I could not sleep; for what the peasant had told me respecting the princess Schirine was constantly present to my mind. The more I thought of her and her peculiar situation, the more did I become possessed with the desire of effecting an interview; at length my inclinations became ungovernable, and I resolved to convey myself to the roof of the princess's palace and endeavour to obtain an entrance into her chamber. "Perhaps," thought I, "I may have the happiness to please her, perhaps to dispel the _ennui_ she must suffer under: perhaps even I may be the mortal whose fortunate audacity was foretold by the astrologers." I was young and consequently thoughtless, and I was not deficient in courage, or such a scheme would not have occurred to me. However, having formed the rash resolution, I instantly proceeded to execute it. I raised myself up in the air and steered my machine in the direction of the palace: the night was as dark as I could wish. I passed without being seen over the heads of the soldiers, who were dispersed around the palace fosse, keeping watch, and descended on the roof near a spot where I saw a light; quitting my box I then slipped in at a window which had been left open to admit the cool night breeze. The room was furnished with the utmost magnificence; and I saw, reposing in slumber on a sofa, a young lady who, from the splendour and luxury with which she was surrounded, I could not doubt was the princess Schirine herself. I gazed for some time on her and found her to be of such dazzling beauty as exceeded the highest idea I had formed of her. I drew nearer in order to gaze upon her more intently: I could not, without an overwhelming emotion of rapture, contemplate such charms. I was quite overcome; and hardly knowing what I was about, knelt down beside her to kiss one of her beautiful hands. She awoke at that instant, and seeing a man near her, though in an attitude of respect which need have excited no alarm, uttered a cry which soon brought her governess, who slept in an adjoining room. "Help, Mahpeiker!" exclaimed the princess: "here is a man! how was it possible for him to get into my room? You must surely have admitted him, and are an accomplice in his crime." "I his accomplice!" exclaimed the governess: "the bare idea is an insult to me! I am as astonished as you can be, to see here this rash young man. Besides, if I had even been inclined to favour him in his bold attempt, how was it possible for me to deceive the vigilance of the guards who keep watch around the palace? You know also that there are twenty gates of burnished steel to be opened before any person can get in here; the seal royal is on every lock, and the king, your father, keeps the keys. I cannot imagine how this young man has been able to overcome all these obstacles." All this time I remained kneeling, overwhelmed with confusion: the governess's long speech, however, gave me time to collect my thoughts, and it occurred to me that I would endeavour to persuade them that I was a being of a superior order. "Beautiful princess," I said to Schirine, rising from my knee and making her a profound obeisance, "do not be surprised at seeing me here. I am not a lover who lavishes gold, and resorts to nefarious tricks to accomplish his wishes; far be from me any unworthy intention: I have not a wish at which your virtuous mind need be ashamed. Know then that I am the king of the genii: for a long time I have been aware of your singular position, and could not without pitying you see you condemned to pass your best days in a prison. I am come here to throw myself at your feet, and to ask you in marriage from Bahaman: as my bride it will be in my power to shield you from the danger alluded to by the prediction which has terrified your father. Deign, therefore, beautiful princess, to look kindly on my suit, and then let both your father and yourself be at rest respecting your future fate, which cannot fail to be both glorious and happy; for as soon as the news of your marriage is spread abroad in the world, all the kings of the earth will stand in awe of the father-in-law of so powerful a monarch, and every princess will envy your fate." Schirine and her governess looked at each other during this speech as if desirous of consulting together whether they should give credit to it. I confess I had reason to believe that they would give no heed to such a fable, but women are fond of the wonderful, and both Mahpeiker and her mistress believed me. After passing the greater part of the night in delightful conversation with the princess of Gazna and her governess, I left her apartment before daybreak, promising to return next day. I lost no time in getting into my machine, and ascended to a great height that I might not be seen by the soldiers. I alighted in the wood, left the box there, and went into the city, where I purchased a stock of provisions for eight days, magnificent robes, a turban of Indian woof surrounded with a golden circlet, darting forth rays of light, and a rich girdle. At the same time I did not forget the costliest perfumes and essences. I spent all my money in these purchases without troubling my head about the future; for I thought that after such a pleasant adventure as had befallen me, I should never more want for any thing. I remained all day in the wood employed in dressing and perfuming myself with the utmost care and attention. When night came on, I entered the machine and set off for the roof of Schirine's palace, where I introduced myself into her apartment as before, and spent another delightful evening in conversation with the princess and her attendant. I left the palace when night was waning, for fear lest my imposture should be discovered. I returned next day, and always conducted myself so cleverly that the princess and Mahpeiker had not the least idea that I was an impostor. True it is that the princess by degrees had acquired such a fondness for me that, on this account, she gave a more ready belief to what I said; for love is blind and, when such feelings exist in favour of a person, his sincerity is never doubted. I, too, had become deeply enamoured of the beautiful princess, and more than once regretted the imposture I was practising on her; but what was I to do? To discover it was certain destruction, and I could not summon up courage to undeceive her. After some days had elapsed, the king of Gazna, attended by some of his officers, paid his weekly visit to his daughter's palace, and finding the gates securely fastened, and his seal on the locks, said to the vizirs who accompanied him: "Every thing goes on as well as possible: so long as the palace gates continue in this state I have little fear of the evil with which my daughter is threatened." He went up to her apartment alone and unannounced, and at seeing him she could not help betraying some emotion, which he noticed and required to know the reason of. His curiosity added to her perplexity; and, finding herself at last compelled to satisfy him, she related all that had taken place. Your majesty may conceive the astonishment of king Bahaman when he learned that, without his knowledge, a proposal of marriage had been made by the king of the genii. But he was not so easily duped as his daughter. Suspecting the truth, he exclaimed: "Alas! my child, how credulous you are! O Heaven! I see that it is hopeless to endeavour to avoid the misfortunes destined for us; the horoscope of Schirine is fulfilled; some villain has deceived her!" So saying, he left the princess's room in a state of great agitation, and went over all the palace, from the top to the bottom, searching every where, and strictly examining all the attendants, but I need hardly say without success, for he found no trace of any stranger, nor the slightest circumstance to lead to the supposition that bribery had been resorted to, which increased his astonishment. "By what means," he said, "can any person, however ingenious and daring, enter this fortress? To me it is inconceivable." He resolved to get at the truth of the matter somehow, but being desirous of setting to work prudently, and of speaking himself alone, in the first instance, and without witnesses, to the pretended genius, he sent back his vizirs and courtiers to Gazna. "Withdraw," he said to them, "and I will remain alone at the palace this night with my daughter; and do you return here to-morrow." They all obeyed the king's orders: they returned to the city, and Bahaman set about questioning the princess afresh until night drew on. He asked her if I had eaten with her. She replied that I had not, for that she had in vain offered me refreshments, and that she had not seen me either eat or drink any thing since I came to her. "Tell me the whole occurrence again," he said, "and conceal nothing." Schirine related to him her story all over again, and the king, who was attentive to her recital, weighed every circumstance of it carefully. Night had now set in; Bahaman seated himself on a sofa, and ordered tapers to be lit and to be placed before him on the marble table. He then drew his sabre, to be employed, if necessary, in wiping out with my blood the insult he conceived to have been offered to his honour. He sat thus, expecting me every moment; and the idea of seeing me appear instantaneously probably agitated him not a little. That night it happened that the atmosphere was highly charged with electric matter. A brilliant flash of lightning darted across the sky before him and made him start. Approaching the window at which Schirine had told him I should enter, and observing the heavens to be on fire with vivid flashes, his imagination was excited, although nothing was taking place but what was quite natural: he thought he saw in the clouds fanciful forms, among which was prominently conspicuous that of a venerable old man, such as the prophet is represented to us. As he gazed he forgot to reflect that these meteors arose merely from exhalations of an inflammable nature that exploded in the air, and came to regard them as brilliant lights announcing to the world the descent of the king of the genii. In such a state of mind the king was disposed to receive me as really bearing the character to which I pretended, and therefore when I appeared at the window, instead of exhibiting the fury he had contemplated, he was overcome with respect and fear; he dropped his sabre, and, falling at my feet, kissed them, and said, "O great king! what am I, and what have I done to deserve the honour of being your father-in-law?" From these words I could guess what had passed between the king and the princess, and discovered that the worthy monarch was almost as easily imposed upon as his daughter. We sat down together on the sofa and conversed. I now formally renewed to him my suit for the hand of the princess. He believed all I told him, and feeling delighted at the prospect of being allied to me, again prostrated himself at my feet in sign of gratitude for my kindness. I raised him up, embraced him, and assured him of my protection, for which he could not find language sufficiently strong to thank me. It was arranged that the marriage should take place the following day. I stopped with Schirine and her father for a few hours, but however pleased I might be with our interview, I did not forget how time was flying; I was apprehensive of daylight surprising us, and of my box being seen on the roof of the palace. I therefore made haste to leave in good time and to reseat myself in the machine. The following day, on the return of the vizirs and great officers of state, a magnificent banquet was prepared at the palace, and immediately on my arrival in the evening the marriage was celebrated with great pomp and rejoicing. A month had nearly passed during which I continued to be looked on and treated as the king of the genii, and I was leading a most agreeable life, when there arrived in the city of Gazna an ambassador from a neighbouring monarch to demand Schirine in marriage. On being admitted to an audience, and detailing the object of his embassy, Bahaman said to him: "I am sorry that I am unable to give my daughter in marriage to the king, your master, for I have already bestowed her hand on the king of the genii." From such a reply the ambassador supposed that king Bahaman had lost his senses; he therefore took leave and returned to his master, who also at first thought Bahaman was mad, but on reconsidering the answer began to look on the refusal as a studied insult; he therefore raised troops, and forming a large army, entered the kingdom of Gazna in a hostile manner. This king, whose name was Cacem, was more powerful than Bahaman, who also was so slow in preparing to oppose his enemy that he could not prevent him from making great progress. Cacem defeated some troops which opposed him, and advancing rapidly towards the city of Gazna, found the army of Bahaman intrenched in the plain before the castle of the princess Schirine. The design of the irritated lover was to attack Bahaman in his intrenchments; but as his troops had need of rest, and he had only arrived that evening in the plain after a long forced march, he delayed his attack until the following morning. The king of Gazna, having been informed of the numbers and valour of Cacem's soldiers, began to tremble for the result. He assembled his privy council and asked for their advice, when one of its members spoke in the following terms: "I am astonished that the king should appear to be at all uneasy on this occasion. What alarm can all the princes of the world, to say nothing of Cacem, occasion to the father-in-law of the king of the genii? Your majesty need only address yourself to him, and beg his assistance, and he will soon confound your enemies. It is his duty to do this, indeed, since it is on his account that Cacem has come to disturb the quiet of your majesty's subjects." This speech did not fail to inspire king Bahaman with confidence. "You are right," he said to the courtier; "I shall at once go and beg of him to repulse my proud enemy, and I venture to hope that he will not reject my supplication." So saying, he went to visit his daughter, and said to her: "Schirine, to-morrow at daybreak it is Cacem's intention to attack us, and I am afraid he will carry our intrenchments. I wish to entreat of the king of the genii that he would undertake our defence. Let us unite our prayers that he would be favourable to us." "My lord and father," replied the princess, "there will be no great difficulty in engaging the king on our side; he will soon disperse the enemy's troops, and all the kings of the world will learn, at Cacem's expense, to respect you." "But," resumed king Bahaman, "night is coming on, and still the king of the genii does not appear; can he have forsaken us?" "No, no, my father," replied Schirine; "do not fear that he will fail us in time of need. He sees the army which is now besieging us, and is perhaps at this moment preparing to carry disorder and terror into all its ranks." And this, in fact, was what I was desirous of doing. I had watched during the day Cacem's troops; I had observed their arrangement, and taken particular notice of the head-quarters of the king. I collected a quantity of stones and pebbles, both large and small, with which I filled my box, and at midnight I mounted aloft. Advancing towards the tents of Cacem, I easily discovered that in which the king was reposing. It was very lofty, richly adorned with gilding, and in the form of a dome, supported on twelve columns of painted wood, fixed deep in the ground; the spaces between the columns were intertwined with branches of different kinds of trees, and towards the summit there were two windows, one at the east, and another at the south side. All the soldiers around the tent were asleep; and this circumstance permitted me to descend near one of the windows without being perceived. Through it I saw the king lying on a sofa, with his head supported on a satin cushion. Rising a little in my box, I hurled a large stone at Cacem; I struck him on the forehead, and wounded him dangerously; he uttered a cry, which soon awoke his guards and officers, who, running up to him, found him covered with blood, and almost insensible. Immediately loud cries were heard, and the alarm was communicated to the whole quarter, every one asking what had happened. A report was soon circulated that the king was wounded, and it was not known by whom the blow had been struck. Whilst the culprit was being searched for, I ascended high up among the clouds, and discharged from an immense height a shower of stones on the royal tent and all near it. The stones cut through the silk of the tent, and severely wounded the attendants; many of the soldiers who surrounded it, too, were very badly hit, and began to cry out that stones were being rained down on them from heaven. The news soon spread, and to confirm it I scattered my stony artillery in all directions. Terror took possession of the army; both officers and soldiers thinking that the Prophet was enraged with Cacem, and that his anger was too evidently declared by this miraculous interference. In short, Bahaman's enemies took to flight in a panic, and with such precipitation, that they abandoned their tents and baggage to their foes, crying out, "We are lost; Heaven is destroying us!" When day dawned the king of Gazna was not a little surprised to find, that, instead of advancing to the attack, the enemy was in full retreat. Seeing this, however, he pursued the fugitives with his best troops, who made prodigious carnage, and took prisoner Cacem himself, whose wound prevented his making a sufficiently speedy flight. "Why," asked Bahaman, when his enemy was brought before him, "why have you advanced into my dominions against all right and reason? What provocation have I given you for making war against me?" "Bahaman," replied the vanquished monarch, "I thought you had refused me your daughter out of contempt for me, and I thirsted to be revenged upon you. I believed the story of the king of the genii being your son-in-law to be a mere pretext. I have now, however, good reason to be sure of its truth, for it is he who has wounded me and dispersed my army." When the pursuit was ended Bahaman returned to Gazna with Cacem, who, however, died of his wound the same day. The spoil was divided, and it was so considerable, that even the common soldiers returned home laden with booty; and prayers were offered up in all the mosques thanking Heaven for having confounded the enemies of the state. When night arrived, the king repaired to the princess's palace. "My daughter," he said, "I have come to thank the king of the genii for a success I owe entirely to him. The courier whom I despatched to you has informed you of all that he has done for us, and I am so profoundly grateful for it, that I am dying with impatience to embrace his knees." This satisfaction was soon granted him. I entered Schirine's room by the usual window, and there, as I indeed expected, I found him. "O great king!" he exclaimed, "language is wanting to express to you what I feel on this occasion. Read yourself in my countenance the full measure of my gratitude." I raised up Bahaman, and kissed his forehead. "Prince," I said to him, "could you possibly think that I would refuse to help you in the embarrassing situation in which you were placed on my account? I have punished the proud Cacem who intended to make himself master of your kingdom, and to carry off Schirine, to place her among the slaves of his seraglio. No longer fear that any potentate on the earth will dare to make war against you; but if any one should be so bold, be assured that I will rain a fiery shower upon his troops, which will reduce them to ashes." After having again assured the king of Gazna that I would take his kingdom under my protection, I related how the enemy's army had been terrified at seeing stones showered down upon their camp. Bahaman, for his part, repeated to me what Cacem had told him, and then took his departure, leaving Schirine and myself to ourselves. The princess was as sensible as her father of the important service I had rendered to the country, and manifested the greatest gratitude, caressing me a thousand times over. Two days after the interment of Cacem, on whom, although a foe, a magnificent funeral was bestowed, the king of Gazna commanded that rejoicings should take place in the city for the defeat of the enemy's troops. I thought that a festival prepared in my honour ought to be signalized by some wonderful prodigy; and for this purpose I purchased in Gazna some combustible materials. With these I manufactured fireworks, which I let off at as great a height as possible, while the people in the streets were celebrating their victory with great rejoicings. My pyrotechnic display was very successful; and as soon as daylight appeared I left my machine, and went into the town to have the pleasure of hearing what people said about me. I was not deceived in my expectations. A thousand extravagant accounts were current among those who had been spectators of my display. Some said that the king of the genii had illuminated the whole heavens expressly to show his satisfaction with the festival; and others asserted that they had even seen him in the sky, surrounded by a blaze of meteors. All these speeches amused me exceedingly. But alas! while I was indulging in these pleasurable sensations, my box--my dear machine--the instrument by which I had worked all my wonders--was burning to ashes in the wood. A spark, which I had not perceived, had set fire to it in my absence, and consumed it, and in this state I found it on my return. A father who enters his house, and finds his only son pierced with a thousand mortal wounds, and lying bathed in his blood, could not suffer more than I did on this occasion. I tore my hair and garments, while the wood resounded with my cries and lamentations; I even wonder that I did not lay violent hands upon myself in the paroxysm of my despair. However, by degrees I became calmed, and reflecting that there was no help for my disaster, I at the same time perceived that some resolution must be formed immediately. Only one course seemed open to me, and that was to seek my fortunes elsewhere. Leaving, therefore, Bahaman and Schirine, doubtless in the deepest distress about me, I left the city of Gazna, and falling in with a caravan of Egyptian merchants, returning to their own country, I joined myself to them, and travelled to Grand Cairo, where I became a weaver in order to gain a subsistence. I lived there for some years and afterwards came to Damascus, where I have followed the same occupation. In appearance I am very well satisfied with my condition, but in reality I am not at all happy, I cannot forget my former fortunate condition, Schirine is ever present to my thoughts, and although I would wish to banish her from my recollection, and in truth make every effort to do so, yet the attempt, as painful as useless, merely causes me constant uneasiness. I have now, may it please your majesty, performed what you required of me. I know very well that you do not approve the deceit I practised towards the king of Gazna and the princess Schirine, for I have perceived oftener than once, that my story was repugnant to your feelings and that your piety shuddered at my sacrilegious audacity. But be pleased to remember that you demanded a true account from me, and condescend to forgive the confession I have made of my adventures, in consideration of the necessity I was under of obeying you. CONCLUSION. The king of Damascus made a suitable reply, and dismissed the weaver, whose story afforded a new argument in favour of the grand vizir's opinion that there is no man who is perfectly happy: however, the king would not desist. "Atalmulc," he said, "with the exception of yourself, there is no man approaches me but with a smiling countenance; it cannot be that not one of all these is perfectly happy; I shall ask my generals, courtiers, and all the officers of my household. Go, vizir, and summon them all into my presence in succession." He had the patience to speak to them all individually, and they all made the same reply; namely, that they were not exempt from grief. One complained of his wife, another of his children; the poor accused their poverty as the cause of all their misfortunes, and the rich either did not enjoy good health, or laboured under some other source of affliction. Bedreddin having questioned so many persons, not one of whom was contented with his lot, came at last to be of the same mind with Atalmulc, and was obliged to admit to his favourite vizir that perfect felicity is not to be looked for in the present life; that every lot and every station has its cares, its anxieties, and its misfortunes; and that we approach the condition of complete happiness only as we conscientiously discharge those duties which our position daily and hourly requires of us. [Illustration] THE END. FOOTNOTES: [9] A gift to the kingdom. [10] The Devil. [11] Captain of the door of the king's chamber. [12] The officer in command of the pages. [13] Lieutenant. [14] Archers. GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS, ST. 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41563	----	A HISTORY OF SANSKRIT LITERATURE By ARTHUR A. MACDONELL, M. A., Ph. D. Of Corpus Christi College, Oxford Boden Professor of Sanskrit and Fellow of Balliol New York D. Appleton and Company 1900 PREFACE It is undoubtedly a surprising fact that down to the present time no history of Sanskrit literature as a whole has been written in English. For not only does that literature possess much intrinsic merit, but the light it sheds on the life and thought of the population of our Indian Empire ought to have a peculiar interest for the British nation. Owing chiefly to the lack of an adequate account of the subject, few, even of the young men who leave these shores every year to be its future rulers, possess any connected information about the literature in which the civilisation of Modern India can be traced to its sources, and without which that civilisation cannot be fully understood. It was, therefore, with the greatest pleasure that I accepted Mr. Gosse's invitation to contribute a volume to this series of Literatures of the World; for this appeared to me to be a peculiarly good opportunity for diffusing information on a subject in which more than twenty years of continuous study and teaching had instilled into me an ever-deepening interest. Professor Max Müller's valuable History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature is limited in its scope to the Vedic period. It has long been out of print; and Vedic research has necessarily made great strides in the forty years which have elapsed since its publication. The only book accessible to the English reader on the history of Sanskrit literature in general has hitherto been the translation of Professor Weber's Academical Lectures on Indian Literature, as delivered nearly half a century ago at Berlin. The numerous and often very lengthy notes in this work supply the results of research during the next twenty-five years; but as these notes often modify, or even cancel, the statements of the unaltered original text of 1852, the result is bewildering to the student. Much new light has been thrown on various branches of Sanskrit literature since 1878, when the last notes were added to this translation, which, moreover, is not in any way adapted to the wants of the general reader. The only work on the subject appealing to the latter is the late Sir M. Monier-Williams's Indian Wisdom. That book, however, although it furnishes, in addition to the translated specimens, some account of the chief departments of Sanskrit literature, is not a history. There is thus distinctly a twofold demand in this country for a history of Sanskrit literature. The student is in want of a guide setting forth in a clear and trustworthy manner the results of research down to the present time, and the cultivated English reader looks for a book presenting in an intelligible and attractive form information which must have a special interest to us owing to our close relations with India. To lack of space, no less than to the scope of the present series, is due the exclusion of a full account of the technical literature of law, science, and art, which contains much that would interest even the general reader; but the brief epitome given in the Appendix will, I hope, suffice to direct the student to all the most important authorities. As to the bibliographical notes, I trust that, though necessarily restricted in extent, they will enable the student to find all further information he may want on matters of detail; for instance, the evidence for approximate dates, which had occasionally to be summarily stated even in the text. In writing this history of Sanskrit literature, I have dwelt more on the life and thought of Ancient India, which that literature embodies, than would perhaps have appeared necessary in the case of a European literature. This I have done partly because Sanskrit literature, as representing an independent civilisation entirely different from that of the West, requires more explanation than most others; and partly because, owing to the remarkable continuity of Indian culture, the religious and social institutions of Modern India are constantly illustrated by those of the past. Besides the above-mentioned works of Professors Max Müller and Weber, I have made considerable use of Professor L. von Schroeder's excellent Indiens Literatur und Cultur (1887). I have further consulted in one way or another nearly all the books and monographs mentioned in the bibliographical notes. Much of what I have written is also based on my own studies of Sanskrit literature. All the quotations which I have given by way of illustration I have myself carefully selected from the original works. Excepting the short extracts on page 333 from Cowell and Thomas's excellent translation of the Harshacharita, all the renderings of these are my own. In my versions of Rigvedic stanzas I have, however, occasionally borrowed a line or phrase from Griffith. Nearly all my renderings are as close as the use of metre permits. I have endeavoured to reproduce, as far as possible, the measures of the original, except in the quotations from the dramas, where I have always employed blank verse. I have throughout refrained from rhyme, as misrepresenting the original Sanskrit. In the transliteration of Sanskrit words I have been guided by the desire to avoid the use of letters which might mislead those who do not know Sanskrit. I have therefore departed in a few particulars from the system on which Sanskrit scholars are now almost unanimously agreed, and which I otherwise follow myself. Hence for c and ch I have written ch and chh respectively, though in the rare cases where these two appear in combination I have retained cch (instead of chchh). I further use sh for the lingual s, and ç for the palatal s, and ri for the vowel r. I have not thought it necessary to distinguish the guttural n and the palatal ñ by diacritical marks, simply printing, for instance, anga and pancha. The reader who is unacquainted with Sanskrit will thus pronounce all words correctly by simply treating all the consonants as in English; remembering only that the vowels should be sounded as in Italian, and that e and o are always long. I am indebted for some suggestions to my friend Mr. F. C. S. Schiller, Fellow and Tutor of Corpus Christi College, who looked through the final proof of the chapter on Philosophy. To my pupil Mr. A. B. Keith, Boden Sanskrit scholar and Classical scholar of Balliol, who has read all the final proofs with great care, I owe not only the removal of a number of errors of the press, but also several valuable criticisms regarding matters of fact. 107 Banbury Road, Oxford, December 1, 1899. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. Introductory 1 II. The Vedic Period 29 III. The Rigveda 40 IV. Poetry of the Rigveda 59 V. Philosophy of the Rigveda 116 VI. The Rigvedic Age 139 VII. The Later Vedas 171 VIII. The Brahmanas 202 IX. The Sutras 244 X. The Epics 277 XI. Kavya or Court Epic 318 XII. Lyric Poetry 335 XIII. The Drama 346 XIV. Fairy Tales and Fables 368 XV. Philosophy 385 XVI. Sanskrit Literature and the West 408 Appendix on Technical Literature--Law--History--Grammar--Poetics--Mathematics and Astronomy--Medicine--Arts 428 Bibliographical Notes 438 A HISTORY OF SANSKRIT LITERATURE CHAPTER I INTRODUCTORY Since the Renaissance there has been no event of such world-wide significance in the history of culture as the discovery of Sanskrit literature in the latter part of the eighteenth century. After Alexander's invasion, the Greeks became to some extent acquainted with the learning of the Indians; the Arabs, in the Middle Ages, introduced the knowledge of Indian science to the West; a few European missionaries, from the sixteenth century onwards, were not only aware of the existence of, but also acquired some familiarity with, the ancient language of India; and Abraham Roger even translated the Sanskrit poet Bhartrihari into Dutch as early as 1651. Nevertheless, till about a hundred and twenty years ago there was no authentic information in Europe about the existence of Sanskrit literature, but only vague surmise, finding expression in stories about the wisdom of the Indians. The enthusiasm with which Voltaire in his Essai sur les Moeurs et l'Esprit des Nations greeted the lore of the Ezour Vedam, a work brought from India and introduced to his notice in the middle of the last century, was premature. For this work was later proved to be a forgery made in the seventeenth century by a Jesuit missionary. The scepticism justified by this fabrication, and indulged in when the discovery of the genuine Sanskrit literature was announced, survived far into the present century. Thus, Dugald Stewart, the philosopher, wrote an essay in which he endeavoured to prove that not only Sanskrit literature, but also the Sanskrit language, was a forgery made by the crafty Brahmans on the model of Greek after Alexander's conquest. Indeed, this view was elaborately defended by a professor at Dublin as late as the year 1838. The first impulse to the study of Sanskrit was given by the practical administrative needs of our Indian possessions. Warren Hastings, at that time Governor-General, clearly seeing the advantage of ruling the Hindus as far as possible according to their own laws and customs, caused a number of Brahmans to prepare a digest based on the best ancient Indian legal authorities. An English version of this Sanskrit compilation, made through the medium of a Persian translation, was published in 1776. The introduction to this work, besides giving specimens of the Sanskrit script, for the first time supplied some trustworthy information about the ancient Indian language and literature. The earliest step, however, towards making Europe acquainted with actual Sanskrit writings was taken by Charles Wilkins, who, having, at the instigation of Warren Hastings, acquired a considerable knowledge of Sanskrit at Benares, published in 1785 a translation of the Bhagavad-gita, or The Song of the Adorable One, and two years later, a version of the well-known collection of fables entitled Hitopadeça, or Friendly Advice. Sir William Jones (1746-94) was, however, the pioneer of Sanskrit studies in the West. It was this brilliant and many-sided Orientalist who, during his too brief career of eleven years in India, first aroused a keen interest in the study of Indian antiquity by his unwearied literary activity and by the foundation of the Asiatic Society of Bengal in 1784. Having rapidly acquired an accurate knowledge of Sanskrit, he published in 1789 a translation of Çakuntala, the finest Sanskrit drama, which was greeted with enthusiasm by such judges as Herder and Goethe. This was followed by a translation of the Code of Manu, the most important of the Sanskrit law-books. To Sir William Jones also belongs the credit of having been the first man who ever printed an edition of a Sanskrit text. This was a short lyrical poem entitled Ritusamhara, or Cycle of the Seasons, published in 1792. We next come to the great name of Henry Thomas Colebrooke (1765-1837), a man of extraordinary industry, combined with rare clearness of intellect and sobriety of judgment. The first to handle the Sanskrit language and literature on scientific principles, he published many texts, translations, and essays dealing with almost every branch of Sanskrit learning, thus laying the solid foundations on which later scholars have built. While Colebrooke was beginning his literary career in India during the opening years of the century, the romance of war led to the practical knowledge of Sanskrit being introduced on the Continent of Europe. Alexander Hamilton (1765-1824), an Englishman who had acquired a good knowledge of Sanskrit in India, happened to be passing through France on his way home in 1802. Hostilities breaking out afresh just then, a decree of Napoleon, directed against all Englishmen in the country, kept Hamilton a prisoner in Paris. During his long involuntary stay in that city he taught Sanskrit to some French scholars, and especially to the German romantic poet Friedrich Schlegel. One of the results of these studies was the publication by Schlegel of his work On the Language and Wisdom of the Indians (1808). This book produced nothing less than a revolution in the science of language by the introduction of the comparative and the historical method. It led to the foundation of the science of comparative philology by Franz Bopp in his treatise on the conjugational system of Sanskrit in comparison with that of Greek, Latin, Persian, and German (1816). Schlegel's work, moreover, aroused so much zeal for the study of Sanskrit in Germany, that the vast progress made since his day in this branch of learning has been mainly due to the labours of his countrymen. In the early days of Sanskrit studies Europeans became acquainted only with that later phase of the ancient language of India which is familiar to the Pandits, and is commonly called Classical Sanskrit. So it came about that the literature composed in this dialect engaged the attention of scholars almost exclusively down to the middle of the century. Colebrooke had, it is true, supplied as early as 1805 valuable information about the literature of the older period in his essay On the Vedas. Nearly a quarter of a century later, F. Rosen, a German scholar, had conceived the plan of making this more ancient literature known to Europe from the rich collection of manuscripts at the East India House; and his edition of the first eighth of the Rigveda was actually brought out in 1838, shortly after his premature death. But it was not till Rudolf Roth (1821-95), the founder of Vedic philology, published his epoch-making little book On the Literature and History of the Veda in 1846, that the studies of Sanskritists received a lasting impulse in the direction of the earlier and more important literature of the Vedas. These studies have since been prosecuted with such zeal, that nearly all the most valuable works of the Vedic, as well as the later period, have within the last fifty years been made accessible in thoroughly trustworthy editions. In judging of the magnitude of the work thus accomplished, it should be borne in mind that the workers have been far fewer in this than in other analogous fields, while the literature of the Vedas at least equals in extent what survives of the writings of ancient Greece. Thus in the course of a century the whole range of Sanskrit literature, which in quantity exceeds that of Greece and Rome put together, has been explored. The great bulk of it has been edited, and most of its valuable productions have been translated, by competent hands. There has long been at the service of scholars a Sanskrit dictionary, larger and more scientific than any either of the classical languages yet possesses. The detailed investigations in every department of Sanskrit literature are now so numerous, that a comprehensive work embodying the results of all these researches has become a necessity. An encyclopædia covering the whole domain of Indo-Aryan antiquity has accordingly been planned on a more extensive scale than that of any similar undertaking, and is now being published at Strasburg in parts, contributed to by about thirty specialists of various nationalities. By the tragic death, in April 1898, of its eminent editor, Professor Bühler of Vienna, Sanskrit scholarship has sustained an irreparable loss. The work begun by him is being completed by another very distinguished Indianist, Professor Kielhorn of Göttingen. Although so much of Sanskrit literature has already been published, an examination of the catalogues of Sanskrit manuscripts, of which an enormous number are preserved in European and Indian libraries, proves that there are still many minor works awaiting, and likely to repay, the labours of an editor. The study of Sanskrit literature deserves far more attention than it has yet received in this country. For in that ancient heritage the languages, the religious and intellectual life and thought, in short, the whole civilisation of the Hindus, who form the vast majority of the inhabitants of our Indian Empire, have their roots. Among all the ancient literatures, that of India is, moreover, undoubtedly in intrinsic value and æsthetic merit second only to that of Greece. To the latter it is, as a source for the study of human evolution, even superior. Its earliest period, being much older than any product of Greek literature, presents a more primitive form of belief, and therefore gives a clearer picture of the development of religious ideas than any other literary monument of the world. Hence it came about that, just as the discovery of the Sanskrit language led to the foundation of the science of Comparative Philology, an acquaintance with the literature of the Vedas resulted in the foundation of the science of Comparative Mythology by Adalbert Kuhn and Max Müller. Though it has touched excellence in most of its branches, Sanskrit literature has mainly achieved greatness in religion and philosophy. The Indians are the only division of the Indo-European family which has created a great national religion--Brahmanism--and a great world-religion--Buddhism; while all the rest, far from displaying originality in this sphere, have long since adopted a foreign faith. The intellectual life of the Indians has, in fact, all along been more dominated by religious thought than that of any other race. The Indians, moreover, developed independently several systems of philosophy which bear evidence of high speculative powers. The great interest, however, which these two subjects must have for us lies, not so much in the results they attained, as in the fact that every step in the evolution of religion and philosophy can be traced in Sanskrit literature. The importance of ancient Indian literature as a whole largely consists in its originality. Naturally isolated by its gigantic mountain barrier in the north, the Indian peninsula has ever since the Aryan invasion formed a world apart, over which a unique form of Aryan civilisation rapidly spread, and has ever since prevailed. When the Greeks, towards the end of the fourth century B.C., invaded the North-West, the Indians had already fully worked out a national culture of their own, unaffected by foreign influences. And, in spite of successive waves of invasion and conquest by Persians, Greeks, Scythians, Muhammadans, the national development of the life and literature of the Indo-Aryan race remained practically unchecked and unmodified from without down to the era of British occupation. No other branch of the Indo-European stock has experienced an isolated evolution like this. No other country except China can trace back its language and literature, its religious beliefs and rites, its domestic and social customs, through an uninterrupted development of more than three thousand years. A few examples will serve to illustrate this remarkable continuity in Indian civilisation. Sanskrit is still spoken as the tongue of the learned by thousands of Brahmans, as it was centuries before our era. Nor has it ceased to be used for literary purposes, for many books and journals written in the ancient language are still produced. The copying of Sanskrit manuscripts is still continued in hundreds of libraries in India, uninterrupted even by the introduction of printing during the present century. The Vedas are still learnt by heart as they were long before the invasion of Alexander, and could even now be restored from the lips of religious teachers if every manuscript or printed copy of them were destroyed. A Vedic stanza of immemorial antiquity, addressed to the sun-god Savitri, is still recited in the daily worship of the Hindus. The god Vishnu, adored more than 3000 years ago, has countless votaries in India at the present day. Fire is still produced for sacrificial purposes by means of two sticks, as it was in ages even more remote. The wedding ceremony of the modern Hindu, to single out but one social custom, is essentially the same as it was long before the Christian era. The history of ancient Indian literature naturally falls into two main periods. The first is the Vedic, which beginning perhaps as early as 1500 B.C., extends in its latest phase to about 200 B.C. In the former half of the Vedic age the character of its literature was creative and poetical, while the centre of culture lay in the territory of the Indus and its tributaries, the modern Panjab; in the latter half, literature was theologically speculative in matter and prosaic in form, while the centre of intellectual life had shifted to the valley of the Ganges. Thus in the course of the Vedic age Aryan civilisation had overspread the whole of Hindustan Proper, the vast tract extending from the mouths of the Indus to those of the Ganges, bounded on the north by the Himalaya, and on the south by the Vindhya range. The second period, concurrent with the final offshoots of Vedic literature and closing with the Muhammadan conquest after 1000 A.D., is the Sanskrit period strictly speaking. In a certain sense, owing to the continued literary use of Sanskrit, mainly for the composition of commentaries, this period may be regarded as coming down to the present day. During this second epoch Brahmanic culture was introduced into and overspread the southern portion of the continent called the Dekhan or "the South." In the course of these two periods taken together, Indian literature attained noteworthy results in nearly every department. The Vedic age, which, unlike the earlier epoch of Greece, produced only religious works, reached a high standard of merit in lyric poetry, and later made some advance towards the formation of a prose style. The Sanskrit period, embracing in general secular subjects, achieved distinction in many branches of literature, in national as well as court epic, in lyric and especially didactic poetry, in the drama, in fairy tales, fables, and romances. Everywhere we find much true poetry, the beauty of which is, however, marred by obscurity of style and the ever-increasing taint of artificiality. But this period produced few works which, regarded as a whole, are dominated by a sense of harmony and proportion. Such considerations have had little influence on the æsthetic notions of India. The tendency has been rather towards exaggeration, manifesting itself in all directions. The almost incredible development of detail in ritual observance; the extraordinary excesses of asceticism; the grotesque representations of mythology in art; the frequent employment of vast numbers in description; the immense bulk of the epics; the unparalleled conciseness of one of the forms of prose; the huge compounds habitually employed in the later style, are among the more striking manifestations of this defect of the Indian mind. In various branches of scientific literature, in phonetics, grammar, mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and law, the Indians also achieved notable results. In some of these subjects their attainments are, indeed, far in advance of what was accomplished by the Greeks. History is the one weak spot in Indian literature. It is, in fact, non-existent. The total lack of the historical sense is so characteristic, that the whole course of Sanskrit literature is darkened by the shadow of this defect, suffering as it does from an entire absence of exact chronology. So true is this, that the very date of Kalidasa, the greatest of Indian poets, was long a matter of controversy within the limits of a thousand years, and is even now doubtful to the extent of a century or two. Thus the dates of Sanskrit authors are in the vast majority of cases only known approximately, having been inferred from the indirect evidence of interdependence, quotation or allusion, development of language or style. As to the events of their lives, we usually know nothing at all, and only in a few cases one or two general facts. Two causes seem to have combined to bring about this remarkable result. In the first place, early India wrote no history because it never made any. The ancient Indians never went through a struggle for life, like the Greeks in the Persian and the Romans in the Punic wars, such as would have welded their tribes into a nation and developed political greatness. Secondly, the Brahmans, whose task it would naturally have been to record great deeds, had early embraced the doctrine that all action and existence are a positive evil, and could therefore have felt but little inclination to chronicle historical events. Such being the case, definite dates do not begin to appear in Indian literary history till about 500 A.D. The chronology of the Vedic period is altogether conjectural, being based entirely on internal evidence. Three main literary strata can be clearly distinguished in it by differences in language and style, as well as in religious and social views. For the development of each of these strata a reasonable length of time must be allowed; but all we can here hope to do is to approximate to the truth by centuries. The lower limit of the second Vedic stratum cannot, however, be fixed later than 500 B.C., because its latest doctrines are presupposed by Buddhism, and the date of the death of Buddha has been with a high degree of probability calculated, from the recorded dates of the various Buddhist councils, to be 480 B.C. With regard to the commencement of the Vedic age, there seems to have been a decided tendency among Sanskrit scholars to place it too high. 2000 B.C. is commonly represented as its starting-point. Supposing this to be correct, the truly vast period of 1500 years is required to account for a development of language and thought hardly greater than that between the Homeric and the Attic age of Greece. Professor Max Müller's earlier estimate of 1200 B.C., formed forty years ago, appears to be much nearer the mark. A lapse of three centuries, say from 1300-1000 B.C., would amply account for the difference between what is oldest and newest in Vedic hymn poetry. Considering that the affinity of the oldest form of the Avestan language with the dialect of the Vedas is already so great that, by the mere application of phonetic laws, whole Avestan stanzas may be translated word for word into Vedic, so as to produce verses correct not only in form but in poetic spirit; considering further, that if we knew the Avestan language at as early a stage as we know the Vedic, the former would necessarily be almost identical with the latter, it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that the Indian branch must have separated from the Iranian only a very short time before the beginnings of Vedic literature, and can therefore have hardly entered the North-West of India even as early as 1500 B.C. All previous estimates of the antiquity of the Vedic period have been outdone by the recent theory of Professor Jacobi of Bonn, who supposes that period goes back to at least 4000 B.C. This theory is based on astronomical calculations connected with a change in the beginning of the seasons, which Professor Jacobi thinks has taken place since the time of the Rigveda. The whole estimate is, however, invalidated by the assumption of a doubtful, and even improbable, meaning in a Vedic word, which forms the very starting-point of the theory. Meanwhile we must rest content with the certainty that Vedic literature in any case is of considerably higher antiquity than that of Greece. For the post-Vedic period we have, in addition to the results of internal evidence, a few landmarks of general chronological importance in the visits of foreigners. The earliest date of this kind is that of the invasion of India by Alexander in 326 B.C. This was followed by the sojourn in India of various Greeks, of whom the most notable was Megasthenes. He resided for some years about 300 B.C. at the court of Pataliputra (the modern Patna), and has left a valuable though fragmentary account of the contemporary state of Indian society. Many centuries later India was visited by three Chinese Buddhist pilgrims, Fa Hian (399 A.D.), Hiouen Thsang (630-645), and I Tsing (671-695). The records of their travels, which have been preserved, and are all now translated into English, shed much light on the social conditions, the religious thought, and the Buddhist antiquities of India in their day. Some general and specific facts about Indian literature also can be gathered from them. Hiouen Thsang especially supplies some important statements about contemporary Sanskrit poets. It is not till his time that we can say of any Sanskrit writer that he was alive in any particular year, excepting only the three Indian astronomers, whose exact dates in the fifth and sixth centuries have been recorded by themselves. It was only the information supplied by the two earlier Chinese writers that made possible the greatest archæological discovery of the present century in India, that of the site of Buddha's birthplace, Kapila-vastu, identified in December 1896. At the close of our period we have the very valuable account of the country at the time of the Muhammadan conquest by the Arabic author Alberuni, who wrote his India in 1030 A.D. It is evident from what has been said, that before 500 A.D. literary chronology, even in the Sanskrit period, is almost entirely relative, priority or posteriority being determined by such criteria as development of style or thought, the mention of earlier authors by name, stray political references as to the Greeks or to some well-known dynasty, and allusions to astronomical facts which cannot have been known before a certain epoch. Recent research, owing to increased specialisation, has made considerable progress towards greater chronological definiteness. More light will doubtless in course of time come from the political history of early India, which is being reconstructed, with great industry and ability, by various distinguished scholars from the evidence of coins, copper-plate grants, and rock or pillar inscriptions. These have been or are being published in the Corpus Inscriptionum Indicarum, the Epigraphia Indica, and various journals devoted to the study of Indian antiquities. The rise in the study of epigraphy during the last twenty years has, indeed, already yielded some direct information of importance about the literary and religious history of India, by fixing the date of some of the later poets as well as by throwing light on religious systems and whole classes of literature. Thus some metrical inscriptions of considerable length have been deciphered, which prove the existence of court poetry in Sanskrit and vernacular dialects from the first century of our era onwards. No direct evidence of this fact had previously been known. The older inscriptions are also important in connection with Sanskrit literature as illustrating both the early history of Indian writing and the state of the language at the time. The oldest of them are the rock and pillar inscriptions, dating from the middle of the third century B.C., of the great Buddhist king Açoka, who ruled over Northern India from 259 to 222 B.C., and during whose reign was held the third Buddhist council, at which the canon of the Buddhist scriptures was probably fixed. The importance of these inscriptions can hardly be over-rated for the value of the information to be derived from them about the political, religious, and linguistic conditions of the age. Found scattered all over India, from Girnar (Giri-nagara) in Kathiawar to Dhauli in Orissa, from Kapur-di-Giri, north of the Kabul river, to Khalsi, they have been reproduced, deciphered, and translated. One of them, engraved on a pillar erected by Açoka to commemorate the actual birthplace of Buddha, was discovered only at the close of 1896. These Açoka inscriptions are the earliest records of Indian writing. The question of the origin and age of writing in India, long involved in doubt and controversy, has been greatly cleared up by the recent palæographical researches of Professor Bühler. That great scholar has shown, that of the two kinds of script known in ancient India, the one called Kharoshthi employed in the country of Gandhara (Eastern Afghanistan and Northern Panjab) from the fourth century B.C. to 200 A.D., was borrowed from the Aramaic type of Semitic writing in use during the fifth century B.C. It was always written from right to left, like its original. The other ancient Indian script, called Brahmi, is, as Bühler shows, the true national writing of India, because all later Indian alphabets are descended from it, however dissimilar many of them may appear at the present day. It was regularly written from left to right; but that this was not its original direction is indicated by a coin of the fourth century B.C., the inscription on which runs from right to left. Dr. Bühler has shown that this writing is based on the oldest Northern Semitic or Phoenician type, represented on Assyrian weights and on the Moabite stone, which dates from about 890 B.C. He argues, with much probability, that it was introduced about 800 B.C. into India by traders coming by way of Mesopotamia. References to writing in ancient Indian literature are, it is true, very rare and late; in no case, perhaps, earlier than the fourth century B.C., or not very long before the date of the Açoka inscriptions. Little weight, however, can be attached to the argumentum ex silentio in this instance. For though writing has now been extensively in use for an immense period, the native learning of the modern Indian is still based on oral tradition. The sacred scriptures as well as the sciences can only be acquired from the lips of a teacher, not from a manuscript; and as only memorial knowledge is accounted of value, writing and MSS. are rarely mentioned. Even modern poets do not wish to be read, but cherish the hope that their works may be recited. This immemorial practice, indeed, shows that the beginnings of Indian poetry and science go back to a time when writing was unknown, and a system of oral tradition, such as is referred to in the Rigveda, was developed before writing was introduced. The latter could, therefore, have been in use long before it began to be mentioned. The palæographical evidence of the Açoka inscriptions, in any case, clearly shows that writing was no recent invention in the third century B.C., for most of the letters have several, often very divergent forms, sometimes as many as nine or ten. A considerable length of time was, moreover, needed to elaborate from the twenty-two borrowed Semitic symbols the full Brahmi alphabet of forty-six letters. This complete alphabet, which was evidently worked out by learned Brahmans on phonetic principles, must have existed by 500 B.C., according to the strong arguments adduced by Professor Bühler. This is the alphabet which is recognised in Pannini's great Sanskrit grammar of about the fourth century B.C., and has remained unmodified ever since. It not only represents all the sounds of the Sanskrit language, but is arranged on a thoroughly scientific method, the simple vowels (short and long) coming first, then the diphthongs, and lastly the consonants in uniform groups according to the organs of speech with which they are pronounced. Thus the dental consonants appear together as t, th, d, dh, n, and the labials as p, ph, b, bh, m. We Europeans, on the other hand, 2500 years later, and in a scientific age, still employ an alphabet which is not only inadequate to represent all the sounds of our languages, but even preserves the random order in which vowels and consonants are jumbled up as they were in the Greek adaptation of the primitive Semitic arrangement of 3000 years ago. In the inscriptions of the third century B.C. two types, the Northern and the Southern, may be distinguished in the Brahmi writing. From the former is descended the group of Northern scripts which gradually prevailed in all the Aryan dialects of India. The most important of them is the Nagari (also called Devanagari), in which Sanskrit MSS. are usually written, and Sanskrit as well as Marathi and Hindi books are regularly printed. It is recognisable by the characteristic horizontal line at the top of the letters. The oldest inscription engraved entirely in Nagari belongs to the eighth, and the oldest MS. written in it to the eleventh century. From the Southern variety of the Brahmi writing are descended five types of script, all in use south of the Vindhya range. Among them are the characters employed in the Canarese and the Telugu country. Owing to the perishability of the material on which they are written, Sanskrit MSS. older than the fourteenth century A.D. are rare. The two ancient materials used in India were strips of birch bark and palm leaves. The employment of the former, beginning in the North-West of India, where extensive birch forests clothe the slopes of the Himalaya, gradually spread to Central, Eastern, and Western India. The oldest known Sanskrit MS. written on birch bark dates from the fifth century A.D., and a Pali MS. in Kharoshthi which became known in 1897, is still older, but the use of this material doubtless goes back to far earlier days. Thus we have the statement of Quintus Curtius that the Indians employed it for writing on at the time of Alexander. The testimony of classical Sanskrit authors, as well as of Alberuni, shows that leaves of birch bark (bhurja-pattra) were also regularly used for letter-writing in early mediæval India. The first example of a palm leaf Sanskrit MS. belongs to the sixth century A.D. It is preserved in Japan, but there is a facsimile of it in the Bodleian Library. According to the Chinese pilgrim Hiouen Thsang, the use of the palm leaf was common all over India in the seventh century; but that it was known many centuries earlier is proved by the fact that an inscribed copper-plate, dating from the first century A.D. at the latest, imitates a palm leaf in shape. Paper was introduced by the Muhammadan conquest, and has been very extensively used since that time for the writing of MSS. The oldest known example of a paper Sanskrit MS. written in India is one from Gujarat, belonging to the early part of the thirteenth century. In Northern India, where ink was employed for writing, palm leaves went out of use after the introduction of paper. But in the South, where a stilus has always been employed for scratching in the character, palm leaves are still common for writing both MSS. and letters. The birch bark and palm leaf MSS. are held together by a cord drawn through a single hole in the middle, or through two placed some distance apart. This explains how the Sanskrit word for "knot," grantha, came to acquire the sense of "book." Leather or parchment has never been utilised in India for MSS., owing to the ritual impurity of animal materials. For inscriptions copper-plates were early and frequently employed. They regularly imitate the shape of either palm leaves or strips of birch bark. The actual use of ink (the oldest Indian name of which is mashi) is proved for the second century B.C. by an inscription from a Buddhist relic mound, and is rendered very probable for the fourth century B.C. by the statements of Nearchos and Quintus Curtius. All the old palm leaf, birch bark, and paper Sanskrit MSS. have been written with ink and a reed pen, usually called kalama (a term borrowed from the Greek kalamos). In Southern India, on the other hand, it has always been the practice to scratch the writing on palm leaves with a stilus, the characters being subsequently blackened by soot or charcoal being rubbed into them. Sanskrit MSS. of every kind are usually kept between thin strips of wood with cords wound round them, and wrapped up in coloured, sometimes embroidered, cloths. They have been, and still are, preserved in the libraries of temples, monasteries, colleges, the courts of princes, as well as private houses. A famous library was owned by King Bhoja of Dhar in the eleventh century. That considerable private libraries existed in fairly early times is shown by the fact that the Sanskrit author Bana (about 620 A.D.) had in his employment a reader of manuscripts. Even at the present day there are many excellent libraries of Sanskrit MSS. in the possession of Brahmans all over India. The ancient Indian language, like the literature composed in it, falls into the two main divisions of Vedic and Sanskrit. The former differs from the latter on the whole about as much as Homeric from classical Greek, or the Latin of the Salic hymns from that of Varro. Within the Vedic language, in which the sacred literature of India is written, several stages can be distinguished. In its transitions from one to the other it gradually grows more modern till it is ultimately merged in Sanskrit. Even in its earliest phase Vedic cannot be regarded as a popular tongue, but is rather an artificially archaic dialect, handed down from one generation to the other within the class of priestly singers. Of this the language itself supplies several indications. One of them is the employment side by side of forms belonging to different linguistic periods, a practice in which, however, the Vedic does not go so far as the Homeric dialect. The spoken language of the Vedic priests probably differed from this dialect of the hymns only in the absence of poetical constructions and archaisms. There was, in fact, even in the earlier Vedic age, a caste language, such as is to be found more or less wherever a literature has grown up; but in India it has been more strongly marked than in any other country. If, however, Vedic was no longer a natural tongue, but was already the scholastic dialect of a class, how much truer is this of the language of the later literature! Sanskrit differs from Vedic, but not in conformity with the natural development which appears in living languages. The phonetic condition of Sanskrit remains almost exactly the same as that of the earliest Vedic. In the matter of grammatical forms, too, the language shows itself to be almost stationary; for hardly any new formations or inflexions have made their appearance. Yet even from a grammatical point of view the later language has become very different from the earlier. This change was therefore brought about, not by new creations, but by successive losses. The most notable of these were the disappearance of the subjunctive mood and the reduction of a dozen infinitives to a single one. In declension the change consisted chiefly in the dropping of a number of synonymous by-forms. It is probable that the spoken Vedic, more modern and less complex than that of the hymns, to some extent affected the later literary language in the direction of simplification. But the changes in the language were mainly due to the regulating efforts of the grammarians, which were more powerful in India than anywhere else, owing to the early and exceptional development of grammatical studies in that country. Their influence alone can explain the elaborate nature of the phonetic combinations (called Sandhi) between the finals and initials of words in the Sanskrit sentence. It is, however, the vocabulary of the language that has undergone the greatest modifications, as is indeed the case in all literary dialects; for it is beyond the power of grammarians to control change in this direction. Thus we find that the vocabulary has been greatly extended by derivation and composition according to recognised types. At the same time there are numerous words which, though old, seem to be new only because they happen by accident not to occur in the Vedic literature. Many really new words have, however, come in through continual borrowings from a lower stratum of language, while already existing words have undergone great changes of meaning. This later phase of the ancient language of India was stereotyped by the great grammarian Panini towards the end of the fourth century B.C. It came to be called Sanskrit, the "refined" or "elaborate" (sam-skri-ta, literally "put together"), a term not found in the older grammarians, but occurring in the earliest epic, the Ramayana. The name is meant to be opposed to that of the popular dialects called Prakrita, and is so opposed, for instance, in the Kavyadarça, or Mirror of Poetry, a work of the sixth century A.D. The older grammarians themselves, from Yaska (fifth century B.C.) onwards, speak of this classical dialect as Bhasha, "the speech," in distinction from Vedic. The remarks they make about it point to a spoken language. Thus one of them, Patanjali, refers to it as used "in the world," and designates the words of his Sanskrit as "current in the world." Panini himself gives many rules which have no significance except in connection with living speech; as when he describes the accent or the lengthening of vowels in calling from a distance, in salutation, or in question and answer. Again, Sanskrit cannot have been a mere literary and school language, because there are early traces of its having had dialectic variations. Thus Yaska and Panini mention the peculiarities of the "Easterns" and "Northerners," Katyayana refers to local divergences, and Patanjali specifies words occurring in single districts only. There is, indeed, no doubt that in the second century B.C. Sanskrit was actually spoken in the whole country called by Sanskrit writers Aryavarta, or "Land of the Aryans," which lies between the Himalaya and the Vindhya range. But who spoke it there? Brahmans certainly did; for Patanjali speaks of them as the "instructed" (çishta), the employers of correct speech. Its use, however, extended beyond the Brahmans; for we read in Patanjali about a head-groom disputing with a grammarian as to the etymology of the Sanskrit word for "charioteer" (suta). This agrees with the distribution of the dialects in the Indian drama, a distribution doubtless based on a tradition much older than the plays themselves. Here the king and those of superior rank speak Sanskrit, while the various forms of the popular dialect are assigned to women and to men of the people. The dramas also show that whoever did not speak Sanskrit at any rate understood it, for Sanskrit is there employed in conversation with speakers of Prakrit. The theatrical public, and that before which, as we know from frequent references in the literature, the epics were recited, must also have understood Sanskrit. Thus, though classical Sanskrit was from the beginning a literary and, in a sense, an artificial dialect, it would be erroneous to deny to it altogether the character of a colloquial language. It is indeed, as has already been mentioned, even now actually spoken in India by learned Brahmans, as well as written by them, for every-day purposes. The position of Sanskrit, in short, has all along been, and still is, much like that of Hebrew among the Jews or of Latin in the Middle Ages. Whoever was familiar with Sanskrit at the same time spoke one popular language or more. The question as to what these popular languages were brings us to the relation of Sanskrit to the vernaculars of India. The linguistic importance of the ancient literary speech for the India of to-day will become apparent when it is pointed out that all the modern dialects--excepting those of a few isolated aboriginal hill tribes--spoken over the whole vast territory between the mouths of the Indus and those of the Ganges, between the Himalaya and the Vindhya range, besides the Bombay Presidency as far south as the Portuguese settlement of Goa, are descended from the oldest form of Sanskrit. Starting from their ancient source in the north-west, they have overflowed in more and more diverging streams the whole peninsula except the extreme south-east. The beginnings of these popular dialects go back to a period of great antiquity. Even at the time when the Vedic hymns were composed, there must have existed a popular language which already differed widely in its phonetic aspect from the literary dialect. For the Vedic hymns contain several words of a phonetic type which can only be explained by borrowings on the part of their composers from popular speech. We further know that in the sixth century B.C., Buddha preached his gospel in the language of the people, as opposed to that of the learned, in order that all might understand him. Thus all the oldest Buddhist literature dating from the fourth or fifth century B.C. was composed in the vernacular, originally doubtless in the dialect of Magadha (the modern Behar), the birthplace of Buddhism. Like Italian, as compared with Latin, this early popular speech is characterised by the avoidance of conjunct consonants and by fondness for final vowels. Thus the Sanskrit sutra, "thread," and dharma, "duty," become sutta and dhamma respectively, while vidyut, "lightning," is transformed into vijju. The particular form of the popular language which became the sacred idiom of Southern Buddhism is known by the name of Pali. Its original home is still uncertain, but its existence as early as the third century B.C. is proved beyond the range of doubt by the numerous rock and pillar inscriptions of Açoka. This dialect was in the third century B.C. introduced into Ceylon, and became the basis of Singhalese, the modern language of the island. It was through the influence of Buddhism that, from Açoka's time onwards, the official decrees and documents preserved in inscriptions were for centuries composed exclusively in Middle Indian (Prakrit) dialects. Sanskrit was not familiar to the chanceries during these centuries, though the introduction of Sanskrit verses in Prakrit inscriptions shows that Sanskrit was alive during this period, and proves its continuity for literary purposes. The older tradition of both the Buddhist and the Jain religion, in fact, ignored Sanskrit entirely, using only the popular dialects for all purposes. But in course of time both the Buddhists and the Jains endeavoured to acquire a knowledge of Sanskrit. This led to the formation of an idiom which, being in the main Prakrit, was made to resemble the old language by receiving Sanskrit endings and undergoing other adaptations. It is therefore decidedly wrong to consider this artificial dialect an intermediate stage between Sanskrit and Pali. This peculiar type of language is most pronounced in the poetical pieces called gatha or "song," which occur in the canonical works of the Northern Buddhists, especially in the Lalita-vistara, a life of Buddha. Hence it was formerly called the Gatha dialect. The term is, however, inaccurate, as Buddhist prose works have also been written in this mixed language. The testimony of the inscriptions is instructive in showing the gradual encroachment of Sanskrit on the popular dialects used by the two non-Brahmanical religions. Thus in the Jain inscriptions of Mathura (now Muttra), an almost pure Prakrit prevails down to the first century A.D. After that Sanskritisms become more and more frequent, till at last simple Sanskrit is written. Similarly in Buddhist inscriptions pure Prakrit is relieved by the mixed dialect, the latter by Sanskrit. Thus in the inscriptions of Nasik, in Western India, the mixed dialect extends into the third, while Sanskrit first begins in the second century A.D. From the sixth century onwards Sanskrit prevails exclusively (except among the Jains) in inscriptions, though Prakritisms often occur in them. Even in the literature of Buddhism the mixed dialect was gradually supplanted by Sanskrit. Hence most of the Northern Buddhist texts have come down to us in Sanskrit, which, however, diverges widely in vocabulary from that of the sacred texts of the Brahmans, as well as from that of the classical literature, since they are full of Prakrit words. It is expressly attested by the Chinese pilgrim, Hiouen Thsang, that in the seventh century the Buddhists used Sanskrit even in oral theological discussions. The Jains finally did the same, though without entirely giving up Prakrit. Thus by the time of the Muhammadan conquest Sanskrit was almost the only written language of India. But while Sanskrit was recovering its ancient supremacy, the Prakrits had exercised a lasting influence upon it in two respects. They had supplied its vocabulary with a number of new words, and had transformed into a stress accent the old musical accent which still prevailed after the days of Panini. In the oldest period of Prakrit, that of the Pali Açoka inscriptions and the early Buddhistic and Jain literature, two main dialects, the Western and the Eastern, may be distinguished. Between the beginning of our era and about 1000 A.D., mediæval Prakrit, which is still synthetic in character, is divided into four chief dialects. In the west we find Apabhramça ("decadent") in the valley of the Indus, and Çauraseni in the Doab, with Mathura as its centre. Subdivisions of the latter were Gaurjari (Gujarati), Avanti (Western Rajputani), and Maharashtri (Eastern Rajputani). The Eastern Prakrit now appears as Magadhi, the dialect of Magadha, now Behar, and Ardha-Magadhi (Half-Magadhi), with Benares as its centre. These mediæval Prakrits are important in connection with Sanskrit literature, as they are the vernaculars employed by the uneducated classes in the Sanskrit drama. They are the sources of all the Aryan languages of modern India. From the Apabhramça are derived Sindhi, Western Panjabi, and Kashmiri; from Çauraseni come Eastern Panjabi and Hindi (the old Avanti), as well as Gujarati; while from the two forms of Magadhi are descended Marathi on the one hand, and the various dialects of Bengal on the other. These modern vernaculars, which began to develop from about 1000 A.D., are no longer inflexional languages, but are analytical like English, forming an interesting parallel in their development from ancient Sanskrit to the Romance dialects in their derivation from Latin. They have developed literatures of their own, which are based entirely on that of Sanskrit. The non-Aryan languages of the Dekhan, the Dravidian group, including Telugu, Canarese, Malayalam, and Tamil, have not indeed been ousted by Aryan tongues, but they are full of words borrowed from Sanskrit, while their literature is dominated by Sanskrit models. CHAPTER II THE VEDIC PERIOD On the very threshold of Indian literature more than three thousand years ago, we are confronted with a body of lyrical poetry which, although far older than the literary monuments of any other branch of the Indo-European family, is already distinguished by refinement and beauty of thought, as well as by skill in the handling of language and metre. From this point, for a period of more than a thousand years, Indian literature bears an exclusively religious stamp; even those latest productions of the Vedic age which cannot be called directly religious are yet meant to further religious ends. This is, indeed, implied by the term "Vedic." For veda, primarily signifying "knowledge" (from vid, "to know"), designates "sacred lore," as a branch of literature. Besides this general sense, the word has also the restricted meaning of "sacred book." In the Vedic period three well-defined literary strata are to be distinguished. The first is that of the four Vedas, the outcome of a creative and poetic age, in which hymns and prayers were composed chiefly to accompany the pressing and offering of the Soma juice or the oblation of melted butter (ghrita) to the gods. The four Vedas are "collections," called samhita, of hymns and prayers made for different ritual purposes. They are of varying age and significance. By far the most important as well as the oldest--for it is the very foundation of all Vedic literature--is the Rigveda, the "Veda of verses" (from rich, "a laudatory stanza"), consisting entirely of lyrics, mainly in praise of different gods. It may, therefore, be described as the book of hymns or psalms. The Sama-veda has practically no independent value, for it consists entirely of stanzas (excepting only 75) taken from the Rigveda and arranged solely with reference to their place in the Soma sacrifice. Being meant to be sung to certain fixed melodies, it may be called the book of chants (saman). The Yajur-veda differs in one essential respect from the Sama-veda, It consists not only of stanzas (rich), mostly borrowed from the Rigveda, but also of original prose formulas. It resembles the Sama-veda, however, in having its contents arranged in the order in which it was actually employed in various sacrifices. It is, therefore, a book of sacrificial prayers (yajus). The matter of this Veda has been handed down in two forms. In the one, the sacrificial formulas only are given; in the other, these are to a certain extent intermingled with their explanations. These three Vedas alone were at first recognised as canonical scriptures, being in the next stage of Vedic literature comprehensively spoken of as "the threefold knowledge" (trayi vidya). The fourth collection, the Atharva-veda, attained to this position only after a long struggle. Judged both by its language and by that portion of its matter which is analogous to the contents of the Rigveda, the Atharva-veda came into existence considerably later than that Veda. In form it is similar to the Rigveda, consisting for the most part of metrical hymns, many of which are taken from the last book of the older collection. In spirit, however, it is not only entirely different from the Rigveda, but represents a much more primitive stage of thought. While the Rigveda deals almost exclusively with the higher gods as conceived by a comparatively advanced and refined sacerdotal class, the Atharva-veda is, in the main, a book of spells and incantations appealing to the demon world, and teems with notions about witchcraft current among the lower grades of the population, and derived from an immemorial antiquity. These two, thus complementary to each other in contents, are obviously the most important of the four Vedas. As representing religious ideas at an earlier stage than any other literary monuments of the ancient world, they are of inestimable value to those who study the evolution of religious beliefs. The creative period of the Vedas at length came to an end. It was followed by an epoch in which there no longer seemed any need to offer up new prayers to the gods, but it appeared more meritorious to repeat those made by the holy seers of bygone generations, and handed down from father to son in various priestly families. The old hymns thus came to be successively gathered together in the Vedic collections already mentioned and in this form acquired an ever-increasing sanctity. Having ceased to produce poetry, the priesthood transferred their creative energies to the elaboration of the sacrificial ceremonial. The result was a ritual system far surpassing in complexity of detail anything the world has elsewhere known. The main importance of the old Vedic hymns and formulas now came to be their application to the innumerable details of the sacrifice. Around this combination of sacred verse and rite a new body of doctrine grew up in sacerdotal tradition, and finally assumed definite shape in the guise of distinct theological treatises entitled Brahmanas, "books dealing with devotion or prayer" (brahman). They evidently did not come into being till a time when the hymns were already deemed ancient and sacred revelations, the priestly custodians of which no longer fully understood their meaning owing to the change undergone by the language. They are written in prose throughout, and are in some cases accented, like the Vedas themselves. They are thus notable as representing the oldest prose writing of the Indo-European family. Their style is, indeed, cumbrous, rambling, and disjointed, but distinct progress towards greater facility is observable within this literary period. The chief purpose of the Brahmanas is to explain the mutual relation of the sacred text and the ceremonial, as well as their symbolical meaning with reference to each other. With the exception of the occasional legends and striking thoughts which occur in them, they cannot be said to be at all attractive as literary productions. To support their explanations of the ceremonial, they interweave exegetical, linguistic, and etymological observations, and introduce myths and philosophical speculations in confirmation of their cosmogonic and theosophic theories. They form an aggregate of shallow and pedantic discussions, full of sacerdotal conceits, and fanciful, or even absurd, identifications, such as is doubtless unparalleled anywhere else. Yet, as the oldest treatises on ritual practices extant in any literature, they are of great interest to the student of the history of religions in general, besides furnishing much important material to the student of Indian antiquity in particular. It results from what has been said that the contrasts between the two older phases of Vedic literature are strongly marked. The Vedas are poetical in matter and form; the Brahmanas are prosaic and written in prose. The thought of the Vedas is on the whole natural and concrete; that of the Brahmanas artificial and abstract. The chief significance of the Vedas lies in their mythology; that of the Brahmanas in their ritual. The subject-matter of the Brahmanas which are attached to the various Vedas, differs according to the divergent duties performed by the kind of priest connected with each Veda. The Brahmanas of the Rigveda, in explaining the ritual, usually limit themselves to the duties of the priest called hotri or "reciter" on whom it was incumbent to form the canon (çastra) for each particular rite, by selecting from the hymns the verses applicable to it. The Brahmanas of the Sama-veda are concerned only with the duties of the udgatri or "chanter" of the Samans; the Brahmanas of the Yajur-veda with those of the adhvaryu, or the priest who is the actual sacrificer. Again, the Brahmanas of the Rigveda more or less follow the order of the ritual, quite irrespectively of the succession of the hymns in the Veda itself. The Brahmanas of the Sama- and the Yajur-veda, on the other hand, follow the order of their respective Vedas, which are already arranged in the ritual sequence. The Brahmana of the Sama-veda, however, rarely explains individual verses, while that of the Yajur-veda practically forms a running commentary on all the verses of the text. The period of the Brahmanas is a very important one in the history of Indian society. For in it the system of the four castes assumed definite shape, furnishing the frame within which the highly complex network of the castes of to-day has been developed. In that system the priesthood, who even in the first Vedic period had occupied an influential position, secured for themselves the dominant power which they have maintained ever since. The life of no other people has been so saturated with sacerdotal influence as that of the Hindus, among whom sacred learning is still the monopoly of the hereditary priestly caste. While in other early societies the chief power remained in the hands of princes and warrior nobles, the domination of the priesthood became possible in India as soon as the energetic life of conquest during the early Vedic times in the north-west was followed by a period of physical inactivity or indolence in the plains. Such altered conditions enabled the cultured class, who alone held the secret of the all-powerful sacrifice, to gain the supremacy of intellect over physical force. The Brahmanas in course of time themselves acquired a sacred character, and came in the following period to be classed along with the hymns as çruti or "hearing," that which was directly heard by or, as we should say, revealed to, the holy sages of old. In the sphere of revelation are included the later portions of the Brahmanas, which form treatises of a specially theosophic character, and being meant to be imparted or studied in the solitude of the forest, are called Aranyakas or "Forest-books." The final part of these, again, are philosophical books named Upanishads, which belong to the latest stage of Brahmana literature. The pantheistic groundwork of their doctrine was later developed into the Vedanta system, which is still the favourite philosophy of the modern Hindus. Works of Vedic "revelation" were deemed of higher authority in cases of doubt than the later works on religious and civil usage, called smriti or "memory," as embodying only the tradition derived from ancient sages. We have now arrived at the third and last stage of Vedic literature, that of the Sutras. These are compendious treatises dealing with Vedic ritual on the one hand, and with customary law on the other. The rise of this class of writings was due to the need of reducing the vast and growing mass of details in ritual and custom, preserved in the Brahmanas and in floating tradition, to a systematic shape, and of compressing them within a compass which did not impose too great a burden on the memory, the vehicle of all teaching and learning. The main object of the Sutras is, therefore, to supply a short survey of the sum of these scattered details. They are not concerned with the interpretation of ceremonial or custom, but aim at giving a plain and methodical account of the whole course of the rites or practices with which they deal. For this purpose the utmost brevity was needed, a requirement which was certainly met in a manner unparalleled elsewhere. The very name of this class of literature, sutra, "thread" or "clue" (from siv, "to sew"), points to its main characteristic and chief object--extreme conciseness. The prose in which these works are composed is so compressed that the wording of the most laconic telegram would often appear diffuse compared with it. Some of the Sutras attain to an almost algebraic mode of expression, the formulas of which cannot be understood without the help of detailed commentaries. A characteristic aphorism has been preserved, which illustrates this straining after brevity. According to it, the composers of grammatical Sutras delight as much in the saving of a short vowel as in the birth of a son. The full force of this remark can only be understood when it is remembered that a Brahman is deemed incapable of gaining heaven without a son to perform his funeral rites. Though the works comprised in each class of Sutras are essentially the same in character, it is natural to suppose that their composition extended over some length of time, and that those which are more concise and precise in their wording are the more recent; for the evolution of their style is obviously in the direction of increased succinctness. Research, it is true, has hitherto failed to arrive at any definite result as to the date of their composition. Linguistic investigations, however, tend to show that the Sutras are closely connected in time with the grammarian Panini, some of them appearing to be considerably anterior to him. We shall, therefore, probably not go very far wrong in assigning 500 and 200 B.C. as the chronological limits within which the Sutra literature was developed. The tradition of the Vedic ritual was handed down in two forms. The one class, called Çrauta Sutras, because based on çruti or revelation (by which in this case the Brahmanas are chiefly meant), deal with the ritual of the greater sacrifices, for the performance of which three or more sacred fires, as well as the ministrations of priests, are necessary. Not one of them presents a complete picture of the sacrifice, because each of them, like the Brahmanas, describes only the duties of one or other of the three kinds of priests attached to the respective Vedas. In order to obtain a full description of each ritual ceremony, it is therefore needful to supplement the account given by one Çrauta Sutra from that furnished by the rest. The other division of the ritual Sutras is based on smriti or tradition. These are the Grihya Sutras, or "House Aphorisms," which deal with the household ceremonies, or the rites to be performed with the domestic fire in daily life. As a rule, these rites are not performed by a priest, but by the householder himself in company with his wife. For this reason there is, apart from deviations in arrangement and expression, omission or addition, no essential difference between the various Grihya Sutras, except that the verses to be repeated which they contain are taken from the Veda to which they belong. Each Grihya Sutra, besides being attached to and referring to the Çrauta Sutra of the same school, presupposes a knowledge of it. But though thus connected, the two do not form a unity. The second class of Sutras, which deal with social and legal usage, is, like the Grihya Sutras, also based on smriti or tradition. These are the Dharma Sutras, which are in general the oldest sources of Indian law. As is implied by the term dharma, "religion and morality," their point of view is chiefly a religious one. They are closely connected with the Veda, which they quote, and which the later law-books regard as the first and highest source of dharma. From the intensely crabbed and unintelligible nature of their style, and the studied baldness with which they present their subjects, it is evident that the Sutras are inferior even to the Brahmanas as literary productions. Judged, however, with regard to its matter, this strange phase of literature has considerable value. In all other ancient literatures knowledge of sacrificial rites can only be gained by collecting stray references. But in the ritual Sutras we possess the ancient manuals which the priests used as the foundation of their sacrificial lore. Their statements are so systematic and detailed that it is possible to reconstruct from them various sacrifices without having seen them performed. They are thus of great importance for the history of religious institutions. But the Sutras have a further value. For, as the life of the Hindu, more than that of any other nation, was, even in the Vedic age, surrounded with a network of religious forms, both in its daily course and in its more important divisions, the domestic ritual as well as the legal Sutras are our most important sources for the study of the social conditions of ancient India. They are the oldest Indian records of all that is included under custom. Besides these ritual and legal compendia, the Sutra period produced several classes of works composed in this style, which, though not religious in character, had a religious origin. They arose from the study of the Vedas, which was prompted by the increasing difficulty of understanding the hymns, and of reciting them correctly, in consequence of the changes undergone by the language. Their chief object was to ensure the right recitation and interpretation of the sacred text. One of the most important classes of this ancillary literature comprises the Pratiçakhya Sutras, which, dealing with accentuation, pronunciation, metre, and other matters, are chiefly concerned with the phonetic changes undergone by Vedic words when combined in a sentence. They contain a number of minute observations, such as have only been made over again by the phoneticians of the present day in Europe. A still more important branch of this subsidiary literature is grammar, in which the results attained by the Indians in the systematic analysis of language surpass those arrived at by any other nation. Little has been preserved of the earliest attempts in this direction, for all that had been previously done was superseded by the great Sutra work of Panini. Though belonging probably to the middle of the Sutra period, Panini must be regarded as the starting-point of the Sanskrit age, the literature of which is almost entirely dominated by the linguistic standard stereotyped by him. In the Sutra period also arose a class of works specially designed for preserving the text of the Vedas from loss or change. These are the Anukramanis or "Indices," which quote the first words of each hymn, its author, the deity celebrated in it, the number of verses it contains, and the metre in which it is composed. One of them states the total number of hymns, verses, words, and even syllables, contained in the Rigveda, besides supplying other details. From this general survey of the Vedic period we now turn to a more detailed consideration of the different phases of the literature it produced. CHAPTER III THE RIGVEDA In the dim twilight preceding the dawn of Indian literature the historical imagination can perceive the forms of Aryan warriors, the first Western conquerors of Hindustan, issuing from those passes in the north-west through which the tide of invasion has in successive ages rolled to sweep over the plains of India. The earliest poetry of this invading race, whose language and culture ultimately overspread the whole continent, was composed while its tribes still occupied the territories on both sides of the Indus now known as Eastern Kabulistan and the Panjab. That ancient poetry has come down to us in the form of a collection of hymns called the Rigveda. The cause which gathered the poems it contains into a single book was not practical, as in the case of the Sama- and Yajur-veda, but scientific and historical. For its ancient editors were undoubtedly impelled by the motive of guarding this heritage of olden time from change and destruction. The number of hymns comprised in the Rigveda, in the only recension which has been preserved, that of the Çakala school, is 1017, or, if the eleven supplementary hymns (called Valakhilya) which are inserted in the middle of the eighth book are added, 1028. These hymns are grouped in ten books, called mandalas, or "cycles," which vary in length, except that the tenth contains the same number of hymns as the first. In bulk the hymns of the Rigveda equal, it has been calculated, the surviving poems of Homer. The general character of the ten books is not identical in all cases. Six of them (ii.-vii.) are homogeneous. Each of these, in the first place, is the work of a different seer or his descendants according to the ancient tradition, which is borne out by internal evidence. They were doubtless long handed down separately in the families to which they owed their being. Moreover, the hymns contained in these "family books," as they are usually called, are arranged on a uniform plan differing from that of the rest. The first, eighth, and tenth books are not the productions of a single family of seers respectively, but consist of a number of groups based on identity of authorship. The arrangement of the ninth book is in no way connected with its composers; its unity is due to all its hymns being addressed to the single deity Soma, while its groups depend on identity of metre. The family books also contain groups; but each of these is formed of hymns addressed to one and the same deity. Turning to the principle on which the entire books of the Rigveda are arranged in relation to one another, we find that Books II.-VII., if allowance is made for later additions, form a series of collections which contain a successively increasing number of hymns. This fact, combined with the uniformity of these books in general character and internal arrangement, renders it probable that they formed the nucleus of the Rigveda, to which the remaining books were successively added. It further seems likely that the nine shorter collections, which form the second part of Book I., as being similarly based on identity of authorship, were subsequently combined and prefixed to the family books, which served as the model for their internal arrangement. The hymns of the eighth book in general show a mutual affinity hardly less pronounced than that to be found in the family books. For they are connected by numerous repetitions of similar phrases and lines running through the whole book. The latter, however, does not form a parallel to the family books. For though a single family, that of the Kanvas, at least predominates among its authors, the prevalence in it of the strophic form of composition impresses upon it a character of its own. Moreover, the fact that the eighth book contains fewer hymns than the seventh, in itself shows that the former did not constitute one of the family series. The first part (1-50) of Book I. has considerable affinities with the eighth, more than half its hymns being attributed to members of the Kanva family, while in the hymns composed by some of these Kanvas the favourite strophic metre of the eighth book reappears. There are, moreover, numerous parallel and directly identical passages in the two collections. It is, however, at present impossible to decide which of the two is the earlier, or why it is that, though so nearly related, they should have been separated. Certain it is that they were respectively added at the beginning and the end of a previously existing collection, whether they were divided for chronological reasons or because composed by different branches of the Kanva family. As to the ninth book, it cannot be doubted that it came into being as a collection after the first eight books had been combined into a whole. Its formation was in fact the direct result of that combination. The hymns to Soma Pavamana ("the clearly flowing") are composed by authors of the same families as produced Books II.-VII., a fact, apart from other evidence, sufficiently indicated by their having the characteristic refrains of those families. The Pavamana hymns have affinities to the first and eighth books also. When the hymns of the different families were combined into books, and clearly not till then, all their Pavamana hymns were taken out and gathered into a single collection. This of course does not imply that the Pavamana hymns themselves were of recent origin. On the contrary, though some of them may date from the time when the tenth book came into existence, there is good reason to suppose that the poetry of the Soma hymns, which has many points in common with the Avesta, and deals with a ritual going back to the Indo-Iranian period, reached its conclusion as a whole in early times among the Vedic singers. Differences of age in the hymns of the ninth book have been almost entirely effaced; at any rate, research has as yet hardly succeeded in distinguishing chronological stages in this collection. With regard to the tenth book, there can be no doubt that its hymns came into being at a time when the first nine already existed. Its composers grew up in the knowledge of the older books, with which they betray their familiarity at every turn. The fact that the author of one of its groups (20-26) begins with the opening words (agnim ile) of the first stanza of the Rigveda, is probably an indication that Books I.-IX. already existed in his day even as a combined collection. That the tenth book is indeed an aggregate of supplementary hymns is shown by its position after the Soma book, and by the number of its hymns being made up to that of the first book (191). The unity which connects its poetry is chronological; for it is the book of recent groups and recent single hymns. Nevertheless the supplements collected in it appear for the most part to be older than the additions which occur in the earlier books. There are many criteria, derived from its matter as well as its form, showing the recent origin of the tenth book. With regard to mythology, we find the earlier gods beginning to lose their hold on the imagination of these later singers. Some of them seem to be disappearing, like the goddess of Dawn, while only deities of widely established popularity, such as Indra and Agni, maintain their position. The comprehensive group of the Viçve devas, or "All gods," has alone increased in prominence. On the other hand, an altogether new type, the deification of purely abstract ideas, such as "Wrath" and "Faith," now appears for the first time. Here, too, a number of hymns are found dealing with subjects foreign to the earlier books, such as cosmogony and philosophical speculation, wedding and burial rites, spells and incantations, which give to this book a distinctive character besides indicating its recent origin. Linguistically, also, the tenth book is clearly distinguished as later than the other books, forming in many respects a transition to the other Vedas. A few examples will here suffice to show this. Vowel contractions occur much more frequently, while the hiatus has grown rarer. The use of the letter l, as compared with r, is, in agreement with later Sanskrit, strikingly on the increase. In inflexion the employment of the Vedic nominative plural in asas is on the decline. With regard to the vocabulary, many old words are going out of use, while others are becoming commoner. Thus the particle sim, occurring fifty times in the rest of the Rigveda, is found only once in the tenth book. A number of words common in the later language are only to be met with in this book; for instance, labh, "to take," kala, "time," lakshmi, "fortune," evam, "thus." Here, too, a number of conscious archaisms can be pointed out. Thus the tenth book represents a definitely later stratum of composition in the Rigveda. Individual hymns in the earlier books have also been proved by various recognised criteria to be of later origin than others, and some advance has been made towards assigning them to three or even five literary epochs. Research has, however, not yet arrived at any certain results as to the age of whole groups in the earlier books. For it must be borne in mind that posteriority of collection and incorporation does not necessarily prove a later date of composition. Some hundreds of years must have been needed for all the hymns found in the Rigveda to come into being. There was also, doubtless, after the separation of the Indians from the Iranians, an intermediate period, though it was probably of no great length. In this transitional age must have been composed the more ancient poems which are lost, and in which the style of the earliest preserved hymns, already composed with much skill, was developed. The poets of the older part of the Rigveda themselves mention predecessors, in whose wise they sing, whose songs they desire to renew, and speak of ancestral hymns produced in days of yore. As far as linguistic evidence is concerned, it affords little help in discriminating periods within the Rigveda except with regard to the tenth book. For throughout the hymns, in spite of the number of authors, essentially the same language prevails. It is quite possible to distinguish differences of thought, style, and poetical ability, but hardly any differences of dialect. Nevertheless, patient and minute linguistic research, combined with the indications derived from arrangement, metre, and subject-matter, is beginning to yield evidence which may lead to the recognition of chronological strata in the older books of the Rigveda. Though the aid of MSS. for this early period entirely fails, we yet happily possess for the Rigveda an abundant mass of various readings over 2000 years old. These are contained in the other Vedas, which are largely composed of hymns, stanzas, and lines borrowed from the Rigveda. The other Vedas are, in fact, for the criticism of the Rigveda, what manuscripts are for other literary monuments. We are thus enabled to collate with the text of the Rigveda directly handed down, various readings considerably older than even the testimony of Yaska and of the Pratiçakhyas. The comparison of the various readings supplied by the later Vedas leads to the conclusion that the text of the Rigveda existed, with comparatively few exceptions, in its present form, and not in a possibly different recension, at the time when the text of the Sama-veda, the oldest form of the Yajur-veda, and the Atharva-veda was constituted. The number of cases is infinitesimal in which the Rigveda shows a corruption from which the others are free. Thus it appears that the kernel of Vedic tradition, as represented by the Rigveda, has come down to us, with a high degree of fixity and remarkable care for verbal integrity, from a period which can hardly be less remote than 1000 B.C. It is only natural that a sacred collection of poetry, historical in its origin, and the heritage of oral tradition before the other Vedas were composed and the details of the later ritual practice were fixed, should have continued to be preserved more accurately than texts formed mainly by borrowing from it hymns which were arbitrarily cut up into groups of verses or into single verses, solely in order to meet new liturgical needs. For those who removed verses of the Rigveda from their context and mixed them up with their own new creations would not feel bound to guard such verses from change as strictly as those who did nothing but continue to hand down, without any break, the ancient text in its connected form. The control of tradition would be wanting where quite a new tradition was being formed. The criticism of the text of the Rigveda itself is concerned with two periods. The first is that in which it existed alone before the other Vedas came into being; the second is that in which it appears in the phonetically modified form called the Samhita text, due to the labours of grammatical editors. Being handed down in the older period exclusively by oral tradition, it was not preserved in quite authentic form down to the time of its final redaction. It did not entirely escape the fate suffered by all works which, coming down from remote antiquity, survive into an age of changed linguistic conditions. Though there are undeniable corruptions in detail belonging to the older period, the text maintained a remarkably high level of authenticity till such modifications as it had undergone reached their conclusion in the Samhita text. This text differs in hundreds of places from that of the composers of the hymns; but its actual words are nearly always the same as those used by the ancient seers. Thus there would be no uncertainty as to whether the right word, for instance, was sumnam or dyumnam. The difference lies almost entirely in the phonetic changes which the words have undergone according to the rules of Sandhi prevailing in the classical language. Thus what was formerly pronounced as tuam hi agne now appears as tvam hy agne. The modernisation of the text thereby produced is, however, only partial, and is often inconsistently applied. The euphonic combinations introduced in the Samhita text have interfered with the metre. Hence by reading according to the latter the older text can be restored. At the same time the Samhita text has preserved the smallest minutiæ of detail most liable to corruption, and the slightest difference in the matter of accent and alternative forms, which might have been removed with the greatest ease. Such points furnish an additional proof that the extreme care with which the verbal integrity of the text was guarded goes back to the earlier period itself. Excepting single mistakes of tradition in the first, and those due to grammatical theories in the second period, the old text of the Rigveda thus shows itself to have been preserved from a very remote antiquity with marvellous accuracy even in the smallest details. From the explanatory discussions of the Brahmanas in connection with the Rigveda, it results that the text of the latter must have been essentially fixed in their time, and that too in quite a special manner, more, for instance, than the prose formulas of the Yajurveda. For the Çatapatha Brahmana, while speaking of the possibility of varying some of these formulas, rejects the notion of changing the text of a certain Rigvedic verse, proposed by some teachers, as something not to be thought of. The Brahmanas further often mention the fact that such and such a hymn or liturgical group contains a particular number of verses. All such numerical statements appear to agree with the extant text of the Rigveda. On the other hand, transpositions and omissions of Rigvedic verses are to be found in the Brahmanas. These, however, are only connected with the ritual form of those verses, and in no way show that the text from which they were taken was different from ours. The Sutras also contain altered forms of Rigvedic verses, but these are, as in the case of the Brahmanas, to be explained not from an older recension of the text, but from the necessity of adapting them to new ritual technicalities. On the other hand, they contain many statements which confirm our present text. Thus all that the Sutra of Çankhayana says about the position occupied by verses in a hymn, or the total number of verses contained in groups of hymns, appears invariably to agree with our text. We have yet to answer the question as to when the Samhita text, which finally fixed the canonical form of the Rigveda, was constituted. Now the Brahmanas contain a number of direct statements as to the number of syllables in a word or a group of words, which are at variance with the Samhita text owing to the vowel contractions made in the latter. Moreover, the old part of the Brahmana literature shows hardly any traces of speculations about phonetic questions connected with the Vedic text. The conclusion may therefore be drawn that the Samhita text did not come into existence till after the completion of the Brahmanas. With regard to the Aranyakas and Upanishads, which form supplements to the Brahmanas, the case is different. These works not only mention technical grammatical terms for certain groups of letters, but contain detailed doctrines about the phonetic treatment of the Vedic text. Here, too, occur for the first time the names of certain theological grammarians, headed by Çakalya and Mandukeya, who are also recognised as authorities in the Pratiçakhyas. The Aranyakas and Upanishads accordingly form a transition, with reference to the treatment of grammatical questions, between the age of the Brahmanas and that of Yaska and the Pratiçakhyas. The Samhita text must have been created in this intermediate period, say about 600 B.C. This work being completed, extraordinary precautions soon began to be taken to guard the canonical text thus fixed against the possibility of any change or loss. The result has been its preservation with a faithfulness unique in literary history. The first step taken in this direction was the constitution of the Pada, or "word" text, which being an analysis of the Samhita, gives each separate word in its independent form, and thus to a considerable extent restores the Samhita text to an older stage. That the Pada text was not quite contemporaneous in origin with the other is shown by its containing some undoubted misinterpretations and misunderstandings. Its composition can, however, only be separated by a short interval from that of the Samhita, for it appears to have been known to the writer of the Aitareya Aranyaka, while its author, Çakalya, is older than both Yaska, who quotes him, and Çaunaka, composer of the Rigveda Pratiçakhya, which is based on the Pada text. The importance of the latter as a criterion of the authenticity of verses in the Rigveda is indicated by the following fact. There are six verses in the Rigveda [1] not analysed in the Pada text, but only given there over again in the Samhita form. This shows that Çakalya did not acknowledge them as truly Rigvedic, a view justified by internal evidence. This group of six, which is doubtless exhaustive, stands midway between old additions which Çakalya recognised as canonical, and the new appendages called Khilas, which never gained admission into the Pada text in any form. A further measure for preserving the sacred text from alteration with still greater certainty was soon taken in the form of the Krama-patha, or "step-text." This is old, for it, like the Pada-patha, is already known to the author of the Aitareya Aranyaka. Here every word of the Pada text occurs twice, being connected both with that which precedes and that which follows. Thus the first four words, if represented by a, b, c, d, would be read as ab, bc, cd. The Jata-patha, or "woven-text," in its turn based on the Krama-patha, states each of its combinations three times, the second time in reversed order (ab, ba, ab; bc, cb, bc). The climax of complication is reached in the Ghana-patha, in which the order is ab, ba, abc, cba, abc; bc, cb, bcd, &c. The Pratiçakhyas may also be regarded as safeguards of the text, having been composed for the purpose of exhibiting exactly all the changes necessary for turning the Pada into the Samhita text. Finally, the class of supplementary works called Anukramanis, or "Indices" aimed at preserving the Rigveda intact by registering its contents from various points of view, besides furnishing calculations of the number of hymns, verses, words, and even syllables, contained in the sacred book. The text of the Rigveda has come down to us in a single recension only; but is there any evidence that other recensions of it existed in former times? The Charana-vyuha, or "Exposition of Schools," a supplementary work of the Sutra period, mentions as the five çakhas or "branches" of the Rigveda, the Çakalas, the Vashkalas, the Açvalayanas, the Çankhayanas, and the Mandukeyas. The third and fourth of these schools, however, do not represent different recensions of the text, the sole distinction between them and the Çakalas having been that the Açvalayanas recognised as canonical the group of the eleven Valakhilya or supplementary hymns, and the Çankhayanas admitted the same group, diminished only by a few verses. Hence the tradition of the Puranas, or later legendary works, mentions only the three schools of Çakalas, Vashkalas, and Mandukas. If the latter ever possessed a recension of an independent character, all traces of it were lost at an early period in ancient India, for no information of any kind about it has been preserved. Thus only the two schools of the Çakalas and the Vashkalas come into consideration. The subsidiary Vedic writings contain sufficient evidence to show that the text of the Vashkalas differed from that of the Çakalas only in admitting eight additional hymns, and in assigning another position to a group of the first book. But in these respects it compares unfavourably with the extant text. Thus it is evident that the Çakalas not only possessed the best tradition of the text of the Rigveda, but handed down the only recension, in the true sense, which, as far as we can tell, ever existed. The text of the Rigveda, like that of the other Samhitas, as well as of two of the Brahmanas (the Çatapatha and the Taittiriya, together with its Aranyaka), has come down to us in an accented form. The peculiarly sacred character of the text rendered the accent very important for correct and efficacious recitation. Analogously the accent was marked by the Greeks in learned and model editions only. The nature of the Vedic accent was musical, depending on the pitch of the voice, like that of the ancient Greeks. This remained the character of the Sanskrit accent till later than the time of Panini. But just as the old Greek musical accent, after the beginning of our era, was transformed into a stress accent, so by the seventh century A.D. (and probably long before) the Sanskrit accent had undergone a similar change. While, however, in modern Greek the stress accent has remained, owing to the high pitch of the old acute, on the same syllable as bore the musical accent in the ancient language, the modern pronunciation of Sanskrit has no connection with the Vedic accent, but is dependent on the quantity of the last two or three syllables, much the same as in Latin. Thus the penultimate, if long, is accented, e.g. Kalidasa, or the antepenultimate, if long and followed by a short syllable, e.g. brahmana or Himalaya ("abode of snow"). This change of accent in Sanskrit was brought about by the influence of Prakrit, in which, as there is evidence to show, the stress accent is very old, going back several centuries before the beginning of our era. There are three accents in the Rigveda as well as the other sacred texts. The most important of these is the rising accent, called ud-atta ("raised"), which corresponds to the Greek acute. Comparative philology shows that in Sanskrit it rests on the same syllable as bore it in the proto-Aryan language. In Greek it is generally on the same syllable as in Sanskrit, except when interfered with by the specifically Greek law restricting the accent to one of the last three syllables. Thus the Greek heptá corresponds to the Vedic saptá, "seven." The low-pitch accent, which precedes the acute, is called the anudatta ("not raised"). The third is the falling accent, which usually follows the acute, and is called svarita ("sounded"). Of the four different systems of marking the accent in Vedic texts, that of the Rigveda is most commonly employed. Here the acute is not marked at all, while the low-pitch anudatta is indicated by a horizontal stroke below the syllable bearing it, and the svarita by a vertical stroke above. Thus yajnasyà ("of sacrifice") would mean that the second syllable has the acute and the third the svarita (yajnásyà). The reason why the acute is not marked is because it is regarded as the middle tone between the other two. [2] The hymns of the Rigveda consist of stanzas ranging in number from three to fifty-eight, but usually not exceeding ten or twelve. These stanzas (often loosely called verses) are composed in some fifteen different metres, only seven of which, however, are at all frequent. Three of them are by far the commonest, claiming together about four-fifths of the total number of stanzas in the Rigveda. There is an essential difference between Greek and Vedic prosody. Whereas the metrical unit of the former system is the foot, in the latter it is the line (or verse), feet not being distinguished. Curiously enough, however, the Vedic metrical unit is also called pada, or "foot," but for a very different reason; for the word has here really the figurative sense of "quarter" (from the foot of a quadruped), Because the most usual kind of stanza has four lines. The ordinary padas consist of eight, eleven, or twelve syllables. A stanza or rich is generally formed of three or four lines of the same kind. Four or five of the rarer types of stanza are, however, made up of a combination of different lines. It is to be noted that the Vedic metres have a certain elasticity to which we are unaccustomed in Greek prosody, and which recalls the irregularities of the Latin Saturnian verse. Only the rhythm of the last four or five syllables is determined, the first part of the line not being subject to rule. Regarded in their historical connection, the Vedic metres, which are the foundation of the entire prosody of the later literature, occupy a position midway between the system of the Indo-Iranian period and that of classical Sanskrit. For the evidence of the Avesta, with its eight and eleven syllable lines, which ignore quantity, but are combined into stanzas otherwise the same as those of the Rigveda, indicates that the metrical practice of the period when Persians and Indians were still one people, depended on no other principle than the counting of syllables. In the Sanskrit period, on the other hand, the quantity of every syllable in the line was determined in all metres, with the sole exception of the loose measure (called çloka) employed in epic poetry. The metrical regulation of the line, starting from its end, thus finally extended to the whole. The fixed rhythm at the end of the Vedic line is called vritta, literally "turn" (from vrit, Lat. vert-ere), which corresponds etymologically to the Latin versus. The eight-syllable line usually ends in two iambics, the first four syllables, though not exactly determined, having a tendency to be iambic also. This verse is therefore the almost exact equivalent of the Greek iambic dimeter. Three of these lines combine to form the gayatri metre, in which nearly one-fourth (2450) of the total number of stanzas in the Rigveda is composed. An example of it is the first stanza of the Rigveda, which runs as follows:-- Agním ile puróhitam Yajnásya devám ritvíjam Hótaram ratnadhatamam. It may be closely rendered thus in lines imitating the rhythm of the original:-- I praise Agni, domestic priest, God, minister of sacrifice, Herald, most prodigal of wealth. Four of these eight-syllable lines combine to form the anushtubh stanza, in which the first two and the last two are more closely connected. In the Rigveda the number of stanzas in this measure amounts to only about one-third of those in the gayatri. This relation is gradually reversed, till we reach the post-Vedic period, when the gayatri is found to have disappeared, and the anushtubh (now generally called çloka) to have become the predominant measure of Sanskrit poetry. A development in the character of this metre may be observed within the Rigveda itself. All its verses in the oldest hymns are the same, being iambic in rhythm. In later hymns, however, a tendency to differentiate the first and third from the second and fourth lines, by making the former non-iambic, begins to show itself. Finally, in the latest hymns of the tenth book the prevalence of the iambic rhythm disappears in the odd lines. Here every possible combination of quantity in the last four syllables is found, but the commonest variation, nearly equalling the iambic in frequency, is [short][long][long][shortlong]. The latter is the regular ending of the first and third line in the post-Vedic çloka. The twelve-syllable line ends thus: [long][short][long][short][short]. Four of these together form the jagati stanza. The trishtubh stanza consists of four lines of eleven syllables, which are practically catalectic jagatis, as they end [long][short][long][shortlong]. These two verses being so closely allied and having the same cadence, are often found mixed in the same stanza. The trishtubh is by far the commonest metre, about two-fifths of the Rigveda being composed in it. Speaking generally, a hymn of the Rigveda consists entirely of stanzas in the same metre. The regular and typical deviation from this rule is to conclude a hymn with a single stanza in a metre different from that of the rest, this being a natural method of distinctly marking its close. A certain number of hymns of the Rigveda consist not merely of a succession of single stanzas, but of equal groups of stanzas. The group consists either of three stanzas in the same simple metre, generally gayatri, or of the combination of two stanzas in different mixed metres. The latter strophic type goes by the name of Pragatha, and is found chiefly in the eighth book of the Rigveda. CHAPTER IV POETRY OF THE RIGVEDA Before we turn to describe the world of thought revealed in the hymns of the Rigveda, the question may naturally be asked, to what extent is it possible to understand the true meaning of a book occupying so isolated a position in the remotest age of Indian literature? The answer to this question depends on the recognition of the right method of interpretation applicable to that ancient body of poetry. When the Rigveda first became known, European scholars, as yet only acquainted with the language and literature of classical Sanskrit, found that the Vedic hymns were composed in an ancient dialect and embodied a world of ideas far removed from that with which they had made themselves familiar. The interpretation of these hymns was therefore at the outset barred by almost insurmountable difficulties. Fortunately, however, a voluminous commentary on the Rigveda, which explains or paraphrases every word of its hymns, was found to exist. This was the work of the great Vedic scholar Sayana, who lived in the latter half of the fourteenth century A.D. at Vijayanagara ("City of Victory"), the ruins of which lie near Bellary in Southern India. As his commentary constantly referred to ancient authorities, it was thought to have preserved the true meaning of the Rigveda in a traditional interpretation going back to the most ancient times. Nothing further seemed to be necessary than to ascertain the explanation of the original text which prevailed in India five centuries ago, and is laid down in Sayana's work. This view is represented by the translation of the Rigveda begun in 1850 by H. H. Wilson, the first professor of Sanskrit at Oxford. Another line was taken by the late Professor Roth, the founder of Vedic philology. This great scholar propounded the view that the aim of Vedic interpretation was not to ascertain the meaning which Sayana, or even Yaska, who lived eighteen centuries earlier, attributed to the Vedic hymns, but the meaning which the ancient poets themselves intended. Such an end could not be attained by simply following the lead of the commentators. For the latter, though valuable guides towards the understanding of the later theological and ritual literature, with the notions and practice of which they were familiar, showed no continuity of tradition from the time of the poets; for the tradition supplied by them was solely that which was handed down among interpreters, and only began when the meaning of the hymns was no longer fully comprehended. There could, in fact, be no other tradition; interpretation only arising when the hymns had become obscure. The commentators, therefore, simply preserved attempts at the solution of difficulties, while showing a distinct tendency towards misinterpreting the language as well as the religious, mythological, and cosmical ideas of a vanished age by the scholastic notions prevalent in their own. It is clear from what Yaska says that some important discrepancies in opinion prevailed among the older expositors and the different schools of interpretation which flourished before his time. He gives the names of no fewer than seventeen predecessors, whose explanations of the Veda are often conflicting. Thus one of them interprets the word Nasatyau, an epithet of the Vedic Dioskouroi, as "true, not false;" another takes it to mean "leaders of truth," while Yaska himself thinks it might mean "nose-born"! The gap between the poets and the early interpreters was indeed so great that one of Yaska's predecessors, named Kautsa, actually had the audacity to assert that the science of Vedic exposition was useless, as the Vedic hymns and formulas were obscure, unmeaning, or mutually contradictory. Such criticisms Yaska meets by replying that it was not the fault of the rafter if the blind man did not see it. Yaska himself interprets only a very small portion of the hymns of the Rigveda. In what he does attempt to explain, he largely depends on etymological considerations for the sense he assigns. He often gives two or more alternative or optional senses to the same word. The fact that he offers a choice of meanings shows that he had no earlier authority for his guide, and that his renderings are simply conjectural; for no one can suppose that the authors of the hymns had more than one meaning in their minds. It is, however, highly probable that Yaska, with all the appliances at his command, was able to ascertain the sense of many words which scholars who, like Sayana, lived nearly two thousand years later, had no means of discovering. Nevertheless Sayana is sometimes found to depart from Yaska. Thus we arrive at the dilemma that either the old interpreter is wrong or the later one does not follow the tradition. There are also many instances in which Sayana, independently of Yaska, gives a variety of inconsistent explanations of a word, both in interpreting a single passage or in commenting on different passages. Thus çarada, "autumnal," he explains in one place as "fortified for a year," in another as "new or fortified for a year," and in a third as "belonging to a demon called Çarad." One of the defects of Sayana is, in fact, that he limits his view in most cases to the single verse he has before him. A detailed examination of his explanations, as well as those of Yaska, has shown that there is in the Rigveda a large number of the most difficult words, about the proper sense of which neither scholar had any certain information from either tradition or etymology. We are therefore justified in saying about them that there is in the hymns no unusual or difficult word or obscure text in regard to which the authority of the commentators should be received as final, unless it is supported by probability, by the context, or by parallel passages. Thus no translation of the Rigveda based exclusively on Sayana's commentary can possibly be satisfactory. It would, in fact, be as unreasonable to take him for our sole guide as to make our understanding of the Hebrew books of the Old Testament dependent on the Talmud and the Rabbis. It must, indeed, be admitted that from a large proportion of Sayana's interpretations most material help can be derived, and that he has been of the greatest service in facilitating and accelerating the comprehension of the Veda. But there is little information of value to be derived from him, that, with our knowledge of later Sanskrit, with the other remains of ancient Indian literature, and with our various philological appliances, we might not sooner or later have found out for ourselves. Roth, then, rejected the commentators as our chief guides in interpreting the Rigveda, which, as the earliest literary monument of the Indian, and indeed of the Aryan race, stands quite by itself, high up on an isolated peak of remote antiquity. As regards its more peculiar and difficult portions, it must therefore be interpreted mainly through itself; or, to apply in another sense the words of an Indian commentator, it must shine by its own light and be self-demonstrating. Roth further expressed the view that a qualified European is better able to arrive at the true meaning of the Rigveda than a Brahman interpreter. The judgment of the former is unfettered by theological bias; he possesses the historical faculty, and he has also a far wider intellectual horizon, equipped as he is with all the resources of scientific scholarship. Roth therefore set himself to compare carefully all passages parallel in form and matter, with due regard to considerations of context, grammar, and etymology, while consulting, though, perhaps, with insufficient attention, the traditional interpretations. He thus subjected the Rigveda to a historical treatment within the range of Sanskrit itself. He further called in the assistance rendered from without by the comparative method, utilising the help afforded not only by the Avesta, which is so closely allied to the Rigveda in language and matter, but also by the results of comparative philology, resources unknown to the traditional scholar. By thus ascertaining the meaning of single words, the foundations of the scientific interpretation of the Vedas were laid in the great Sanskrit Dictionary, in seven volumes, published by Roth in collaboration with Böhtlingk between 1852 and 1875. Roth's method is now accepted by every scientific student of the Veda. Native tradition is, however, being more fully exploited than was done by Roth himself, for it is now more clearly recognised that no aid to be derived from extant Indian scholarship ought to be neglected. Under the guidance of such principles the progress already made in solving many important problems presented by Vedic literature has been surprising, when we consider the shortness of the time and the fewness of the labourers, of whom only two or three have been natives of this country. As a general result, the historical sense has succeeded in grasping the spirit of Indian antiquity, long obscured by native misinterpretation. Much, of course, still remains to be done by future generations of scholars, especially in detailed and minute investigation. This could not be otherwise when we remember that Vedic research is only the product of the last fifty years, and that, notwithstanding the labours of very numerous Hebrew scholars during several centuries, there are, in the Psalms and the Prophetic Books of the Old Testament, still many passages which remain obscure and disputed. There can be no doubt that many problems at present insoluble will in the end be solved by that modern scholarship which has already deciphered the cuneiform writings of Persia as well as the rock inscriptions of India, and has discovered the languages which lay hidden under these mysterious characters. Having thus arrived at the threshold of the world of Vedic thought, we may now enter through the portals opened by the golden key of scholarship. By far the greater part of the poetry of the Rigveda consists of religious lyrics, only the tenth book containing some secular poems. Its hymns are mainly addressed to the various gods of the Vedic pantheon, praising their mighty deeds, their greatness, and their beneficence, or beseeching them for wealth in cattle, numerous offspring, prosperity, long life, and victory. The Rigveda is not a collection of primitive popular poetry, as it was apt to be described at an earlier period of Sanskrit studies. It is rather a body of skilfully composed hymns, produced by a sacerdotal class and meant to accompany the Soma oblation and the fire sacrifice of melted butter, which were offered according to a ritual by no means so simple as was at one time supposed, though undoubtedly much simpler than the elaborate system of the Brahmana period. Its poetry is consequently marred by frequent references to the sacrifice, especially when the two great ritual deities, Agni and Soma, are the objects of praise. At the same time it is on the whole much more natural than might under these conditions be expected. For the gods who are invoked are nearly all personifications of the phenomena of Nature, and thus give occasion for the employment of much beautiful and even noble imagery. The diction of the hymns is, generally speaking, simple and unaffected. Compound words are sparingly used, and are limited to two members, in marked contrast with the frequency and length of compounds in classical Sanskrit. The thought, too, is usually artless and direct, except in the hymns to the ritual deities, where it becomes involved in conceit and mystical obscurity. The very limited nature of the theme, in these cases, must have forced the minds of the priestly singers to strive after variety by giving utterance to the same idea in enigmatical phraseology. Here, then, we already find the beginnings of that fondness for subtlety and difficult modes of expression which is so prevalent in the later literature, and which is betrayed even in the earlier period by the saying in one of the Brahmanas that the gods love the recondite. In some hymns, too, there appears that tendency to play with words which was carried to inordinate lengths in late Sanskrit poems and romances. The hymns of the Rigveda, of course, vary much in literary merit, as is naturally to be expected in the productions of many poets extending over some centuries. Many display a high order of poetical excellence, while others consist of commonplace and mechanical verse. The degree of skill in composition is on the average remarkably high, especially when we consider that here we have by far the oldest poetry of the Aryan race. The art which these early seers feel is needed to produce a hymn acceptable to the gods is often alluded to, generally in the closing stanza. The poet usually compares his work to a car wrought and put together by a deft craftsman. One Rishi also likens his prayers to fair and well-woven garments; another speaks of having adorned his song of praise like a bride for her lover. Poets laud the gods according to knowledge and ability (vi. 21, 6), and give utterance to the emotions of their hearts (x. 39, 15). Various individual gods are, it is true, in a general way said to have granted seers the gift of song, but of the later doctrine of revelation the Rigvedic poets know nothing. The remark which has often been made that monotony prevails in the Vedic hymns contains truth. But the impression is produced by the hymns to the same deity being commonly grouped together in each book. A similar effect would probably arise from reading in succession twenty or thirty lyrics on Spring, even in an anthology of the best modern poetry. When we consider that nearly five hundred hymns of the Rigveda are addressed to two deities alone, it is surprising that so many variations of the same theme should be possible. The hymns of the Rigveda being mainly invocations of the gods, their contents are largely mythological. Special interest attaches to this mythology, because it represents an earlier stage of thought than is to be found in any other literature. It is sufficiently primitive to enable us to see clearly the process of personification by which natural phenomena developed into gods. Never observing, in his ordinary life, action or movement not caused by an acting or moving person, the Vedic Indian, like man in a much less advanced state, still refers such occurrences in Nature to personal agents, which to him are inherent in the phenomena. He still looks out upon the workings of Nature with childlike astonishment. One poet asks why the sun does not fall from the sky; another wonders where the stars go by day; while a third marvels that the waters of all rivers constantly flowing into it never fill the ocean. The unvarying regularity of sun and moon, and the unfailing recurrence of the dawn, however, suggested to these ancient singers the idea of the unchanging order that prevails in Nature. The notion of this general law, recognised under the name rita (properly the "course" of things), we find in the Rigveda extended first to the fixed rules of the sacrifice (rite), and then to those of morality (right). Though the mythological phase presented by the Rigveda is comparatively primitive, it yet contains many conceptions inherited from previous ages. The parallels of the Avesta show that several of the Vedic deities go back to the time when the ancestors of Persians and Indians were still one people. Among these may be mentioned Yama, god of the dead, identical with Yima, ruler of paradise, and especially Mitra, the cult of whose Persian counterpart, Mithra, obtained from 200-400 A.D. a world-wide diffusion in the Roman Empire, and came nearer to monotheism than the cult of any other god in paganism. Various religious practices can also be traced back to that early age, such as the worship of fire and the cult of the plant Soma (the Avestan Haoma). The veneration of the cow, too, dates from that time. A religious hymn poetry must have existed even then, for stanzas of four eleven-syllable (the Vedic trishtubh) and of four or three eight-syllable lines (anushtubh and gayatri) were already known, as is proved by the agreement of the Avesta with the Rigveda. From the still earlier Indo-European period had come down the general conception of "god" (deva-s, Lat. deu-s) and that of heaven as a divine father (Dyaus pita, Gr. Zeus pater, Lat. Jupiter). Probably from an even remoter antiquity is derived the notion of heaven and earth as primeval and universal parents, as well as many magical beliefs. The universe appeared to the poets of the Rigveda to be divided into the three domains of earth, air, and heaven, a division perhaps also known to the early Greeks. This is the favourite triad of the Rigveda, constantly mentioned expressly or by implication. The solar phenomena are referred to heaven, while those of lightning, rain, and wind belong to the air. In the three worlds the various gods perform their actions, though they are supposed to dwell only in the third, the home of light. The air is often called a sea, as the abode of the celestial waters, while the great rainless clouds are conceived sometimes as rocks or mountains, sometimes as the castles of demons who war against the gods. The thundering rain-clouds become lowing cows, whose milk is shed and bestows fatness upon the earth. The higher gods of the Rigveda are almost entirely personifications of natural phenomena, such as Sun, Dawn, Fire, Wind. Excepting a few deities surviving from an older period, the gods are, for the most part, more or less clearly connected with their physical foundation. The personifications being therefore but slightly developed, lack definiteness of outline and individuality of character. Moreover, the phenomena themselves which are behind the personifications have few distinctive traits, while they share some attributes with other phenomena belonging to the same domain. Thus Dawn, Sun, Fire have the common features of being luminous, dispelling darkness, appearing in the morning. Hence the character of each god is made up of only a few essential qualities combined with many others which are common to all the gods, such as brilliance, power, beneficence, and wisdom. These common attributes tend to obscure those which are distinctive, because in hymns of prayer and praise the former naturally assume special importance. Again, gods belonging to different departments of nature, but having striking features in common, are apt to grow more like each other. Assimilation of this kind is encouraged by a peculiar practice of the Vedic poets--the invocation of deities in pairs. Such combinations result in attributes peculiar to the one god attaching themselves to the other, even when the latter appears alone. Thus when the Fire-god, invoked by himself, is called a slayer of the demon Vritra, he receives an attribute distinctive of the thunder-god Indra, with whom he is often coupled. The possibility of assigning nearly every power to every god rendered the identification of one deity with another an easy matter. Such identifications are frequent enough in the Rigveda. For example, a poet addressing the fire-god exclaims: "Thou at thy birth, O Agni, art Varuna; when kindled thou becomest Mitra; in thee, O Son of Might, all gods are centred; thou art Indra to the worshipper" (v. 3, 1). Moreover, mystical speculations on the nature of Agni, so important a god in the eyes of a priesthood devoted to a fire-cult, on his many manifestations as individual fires on earth, and on his other aspects as atmospheric fire in lightning and as celestial fire in the sun--aspects which the Vedic poets are fond of alluding to in riddles--would suggest the idea that various deities are but different forms of a single divine being. This idea is found in more than one passage of the later hymns of the Rigveda. Thus the composer of a recent hymn (164) of the first book says: "The one being priests speak of in many ways; they call it Agni, Yama, Matariçvan." Similarly, a seer of the last book (x. 114) remarks: "Priests and poets with words make into many the bird (i.e. the sun) which is but one." Utterances like these show that by the end of the Rigvedic period the polytheism of the Rishis had received a monotheistic tinge. Occasionally we even find shadowed forth the pantheistic idea of a deity representing not only all the gods, but Nature as well. Thus the goddess Aditi is identified with all the deities, with men, with all that has been and shall be born, with air, and heaven (i. 89); and in a cosmogonic hymn (x. 121) the Creator is not only described as the one god above all gods, but is said [3] to embrace all things. This germ of pantheism developed through the later Vedic literature till it assumed its final shape in the Vedanta philosophy, still the most popular system of the Hindus. The practice of the poets, even in the older parts of the Rigveda, of invoking different gods as if each of them were paramount, gave rise to Professor Max Müller's theory of Henotheism or Kathenotheism, according to which the seers held "the belief in individual gods alternately regarded as the highest," and for the moment treated the god addressed as if he were an absolutely independent and supreme deity, alone present to the mind. In reality, however, the practice of the poets of the Rigveda hardly amounts to more than the exaggeration--to be found in the Homeric hymns also--with which a singer would naturally magnify the particular god whom he is invoking. For the Rishis well knew the exact position of each god in the Soma ritual, in which nearly every member of the pantheon found a place. The gods, in the view of the Vedic poets, had a beginning; for they are described as the offspring of heaven and earth, or sometimes of other gods. This in itself implies different generations, but earlier gods are also expressly referred to in several passages. Nor were the gods regarded as originally immortal; for immortality is said to have been bestowed upon them by individual deities, such as Agni and Savitri, or to have been acquired by drinking soma. Indra and other gods are spoken of as unaging, but whether their immortality was regarded by the poets as absolute there is no evidence to show. In the post-Vedic view it was only relative, being limited to a cosmic age. The physical aspect of the Vedic gods is anthropomorphic. Thus head, face, eyes, arms, hands, feet, and other portions of the human frame are ascribed to them. But their forms are shadowy and their limbs or parts are often simply meant figuratively to describe their activities. Thus the tongue and limbs of the fire-god are merely his flames; the arms of the sun-god are simply his rays, while his eye only represents the solar orb. Since the outward shape of the gods was thus vaguely conceived, while their connection with natural phenomena was in many instances still evident, it is easy to understand why no mention is made in the Rigveda of images of the gods, still less of temples, which imply the existence of images. Idols first begin to be referred to in the Sutras. Some of the gods appear equipped as warriors, wearing coats of mail and helmets, and armed with spears, battle-axes, bows and arrows. They all drive through the air in luminous cars, generally drawn by horses, but in some cases by kine, goats, or deer. In their cars the gods come to seat themselves at the sacrifice, which, however, is also conveyed to them in heaven by Agni. They are on the whole conceived as dwelling together in harmony; the only one who ever introduces a note of discord being the warlike and overbearing Indra. To the successful and therefore optimistic Vedic Indian, the gods seemed almost exclusively beneficent beings, bestowers of long life and prosperity. Indeed, the only deity in whom injurious features are at all prominent is Rudra. The lesser evils closely connected with human life, such as disease, proceed from minor demons, while the greater evils manifested in Nature, such as drought and darkness, are produced by powerful demons like Vritra. The conquest of these demons brings out all the more strikingly the beneficent nature of the gods. The character of the Vedic gods is also moral. They are "true" and "not deceitful," being throughout the friends and guardians of honesty and virtue. But the divine morality only reflects the ethical standard of an early civilisation. Thus even the alliance of Varuna, the most moral of the gods, with righteousness is not such as to prevent him from employing craft against the hostile and the deceitful man. Moral elevation is, on the whole, a less prominent characteristic of the gods than greatness and power. The relation of the worshipper to the gods in the Rigveda is in general one of dependence on their will, prayers and sacrifices being offered to win their favour or forgiveness. The expectation of something in return for the offering is, however, frequently apparent, and the keynote of many a hymn is, "I give to thee that thou mayst give to me." The idea is also often expressed that the might and valour of the gods is produced by hymns, sacrifices, and especially offerings of soma. Here we find the germs of sacerdotal pretensions which gradually increased during the Vedic age. Thus the statement occurs in the White Yajurveda that the Brahman who possesses correct knowledge has the gods in his power. The Brahmanas go a step farther in saying that there are two kinds of gods, the Devas and the Brahmans, the latter of whom are to be held as deities among men. In the Brahmanas, too, the sacrifice is represented as all-powerful, controlling not only the gods, but the very processes of nature. The number of the gods is stated in the Rigveda itself to be thirty-three, several times expressed as thrice eleven, when each group is regarded as corresponding to one of the divisions of the threefold universe. This aggregate could not always have been deemed exhaustive, for sometimes other gods are mentioned in addition to the thirty-three. Nor can this number, of course, include various groups, such as the storm-gods. There are, however, hardly twenty individual deities important enough in the Rigveda to have at least three entire hymns addressed to them. The most prominent of these are Indra, the thunder-god, with at least 250 hymns, Agni with about 200, and Soma with over 100; while Parjanya, god of rain, and Yama, god of the dead, are invoked in only three each. The rest occupy various positions between these two extremes. It is somewhat remarkable that the two great deities of modern Hinduism, Vishnu and Çiva, who are equal in importance, should have been on the same level, though far below the leading deities, three thousand years ago, as Vishnu and Rudra (the earlier form of Çiva) in the Rigveda. Even then they show the same general characteristics as now, Vishnu being specially benevolent and Rudra terrible. The oldest among the gods of heaven is Dyaus (identical with the Greek Zeus). This personification of the sky as a god never went beyond a rudimentary stage in the Rigveda, being almost entirely limited to the idea of paternity. Dyaus is generally coupled with Prithivi, Earth, the pair being celebrated in six hymns as universal parents. In a few passages Dyaus is called a bull, ruddy and bellowing downwards, with reference to the fertilising power of rain no less than to the lightning and thundering heavens. He is also once compared with a black steed decked with pearls, in obvious allusion to the nocturnal star-spangled sky. One poet describes this god as furnished with a bolt, while another speaks of him as "Dyaus smiling through the clouds," meaning the lightening sky. In several other passages of the Rigveda the verb "to smile" (smi) alludes to lightning, just as in classical Sanskrit a smile is constantly compared with objects of dazzling whiteness. A much more important deity of the sky is Varuna, in whom the personification has proceeded so far that the natural phenomenon which underlies it can only be inferred from traits in his character. This obscurity of origin arises partly from his not being a creation of Indian mythology, but a heritage from an earlier age, and partly from his name not at the same time designating a natural phenomenon, like that of Dyaus. The word varuna-s seems to have originally meant the "encompassing" sky, and is probably the same word as the Greek Ouranos, though the identification presents some phonetic difficulties. Varuna is invoked in far fewer hymns than Indra, Agni, or Soma, but he is undoubtedly the greatest of the Vedic gods by the side of Indra. While Indra is the great warrior, Varuna is the great upholder of physical and moral order (rita). The hymns addressed to him are more ethical and devout in tone than any others. They form the most exalted portion of the Veda, often resembling in character the Hebrew psalms. The peaceful sway of Varuna is explained by his connection with the regularly recurring celestial phenomena, the course of the heavenly bodies seen in the sky; Indra's warlike and occasionally capricious nature is accounted for by the variable and uncertain strife of the elements in the thunderstorm. The character and power of Varuna may be sketched as nearly as possible in the words of the Vedic poets themselves as follows. By the law of Varuna heaven and earth are held apart. He made the golden swing (the sun) to shine in heaven. He has made a wide path for the sun. The wind which resounds through the air is Varuna's breath. By his ordinances the moon shining brightly moves at night, and the stars placed up on high are seen at night but disappear by day. He causes the rivers to flow; they stream unceasingly according to his ordinance. By his occult power the rivers swiftly pouring into the ocean do not fill it with water. He makes the inverted cask to pour its waters and to moisten the ground, while the mountains are wrapt in cloud. It is chiefly with these aërial waters that he is connected, very rarely with the sea. Varuna's omniscience is often dwelt on. He knows the flight of the birds in the sky, the path of ships in the ocean, the course of the far-travelling wind. He beholds all the secret things that have been or shall be done. He witnesses men's truth and falsehood. No creature can even wink without him. As a moral governor Varuna stands far above any other deity. His wrath is roused by sin, which is the infringement of his ordinances, and which he severely punishes. The fetters with which he binds sinners are often mentioned. A dispeller, hater, and punisher of falsehood, he is gracious to the penitent. He releases men not only from the sins which they themselves commit, but from those committed by their fathers. He spares the suppliant who daily transgresses his laws, and is gracious to those who have broken his ordinances by thoughtlessness. There is, in fact, no hymn to Varuna in which the prayer for forgiveness of guilt does not occur, as in the hymns to other deities the prayer for worldly goods. With the growth of the conception of the creator, Prajapati, as a supreme deity, the characteristics of Varuna as a sovereign god naturally faded away, and the dominion of waters, only a part of his original sphere, alone remained. This is already partly the case in the Atharva-veda, and in post-Vedic mythology he is only an Indian Neptune, god of the sea. The following stanzas from a hymn to Varuna (vii. 89) will illustrate the spirit of the prayers addressed to him:-- May I not yet, King Varuna, Go down into the house of clay: Have mercy, spare me, mighty Lord. Thirst has come on thy worshipper Though standing in the waters' midst: [4] Have mercy, spare me, mighty Lord. O Varuna, whatever the offence may be That we as men commit against the heavenly folk When through our want of thought we violate thy laws, Chastise us not, O God, for that iniquity. There are in the Rigveda five solar deities, differentiated as representing various aspects of the activity of the sun. One of the oldest of these, Mitra, the "Friend," seems to have been conceived as the beneficent side of the sun's power. Going back to the Indo-Iranian period, he has in the Rigveda almost entirely lost his individuality, which is practically merged in that of Varuna. With the latter he is constantly invoked, while only one single hymn (iii. 59) is addressed to him alone. Surya (cognate in name to the Greek Helios) is the most concrete of the solar deities. For as his name also designates the luminary itself, his connection with the latter is never lost sight of. The eye of Surya is often mentioned, and Dawn is said to bring the eye of the gods. All-seeing, he is the spy of the whole world, beholding all beings and the good or bad deeds of mortals. Aroused by Surya, men pursue their objects and perform their work. He is the soul or guardian of all that moves and is fixed. He rides in a car, which is generally described as drawn by seven steeds. These he unyokes at sunset:-- When he has loosed his coursers from their station, Straightway Night over all spreads out her garment (i. 115, 4). Surya rolls up the darkness like a skin, and the stars slink away like thieves. He shines forth from the lap of the dawns. He is also spoken of as the husband of Dawn. As a form of Agni, the gods placed him in heaven. He is often described as a bird or eagle traversing space. He measures the days and prolongs life. He drives away disease and evil dreams. At his rising he is prayed to declare men sinless to Mitra and Varuna. All beings depend on Surya, and so he is called "all-creating." Eleven hymns, or about the same number as to Surya, are addressed to another solar deity, Savitri, the "Stimulator," who represents the quickening activity of the sun. He is pre-eminently a golden deity, with golden hands and arms and a golden car. He raises aloft his strong golden arms, with which he blesses and arouses all beings, and which extend to the ends of the earth. He moves in his golden car, seeing all creatures, on a downward and an upward path. He shines after the path of the dawn. Beaming with the rays of the sun, yellow-haired, Savitri raises up his light continually from the east. He removes evil dreams and drives away demons and sorcerers. He bestows immortality on the gods as well as length of life on man. He also conducts the departed spirit to where the righteous dwell. The other gods follow Savitri's lead; no being, not even the most powerful gods, Indra and Varuna, can resist his will and independent sway. Savitri is not infrequently connected with the evening, being in one hymn (ii. 38) extolled as the setting sun:-- Borne by swift coursers, he will now unyoke them: The speeding chariot he has stayed from going. He checks the speed of them that glide like serpents: Night has come on by Savitri's commandment. The weaver rolls her outstretched web together, The skilled lay down their work in midst of toiling, The birds all seek their nests, their shed the cattle: Each to his lodging Savitri disperses. To this god is addressed the most famous stanza of the Rigveda, with which, as the Stimulator, he was in ancient times invoked at the beginning of Vedic study, and which is still repeated by every orthodox Hindu in his morning prayers. From the name of the deity it is called the Savitri, but it is also often referred to as "the Gayatri," from the metre in which it is composed:-- May we attain that excellent Glory of Savitri the god, That he may stimulate our thoughts (iii. 62, 10). A peculiarity of the hymns to Savitri is the perpetual play on his name with forms of the root su, "to stimulate," from which it is derived. Pushan is invoked in some eight hymns of the Rigveda. His name means "Prosperer," and the conception underlying his character seems to be the beneficent power of the sun, manifested chiefly as a pastoral deity. His car is drawn by goats and he carries a goad. Knowing the ways of heaven, he conducts the dead on the far path to the fathers. He is also a guardian of roads, protecting cattle and guiding them with his goad. The welfare which he bestows results from the protection he extends to men and cattle on earth, and from his guidance of mortals to the abodes of bliss in the next world. Judged by a statistical standard, Vishnu is only a deity of the fourth rank, less frequently invoked than Surya, Savitri, and Pushan in the Rigveda, but historically he is the most important of the solar deities. For he is one of the two great gods of modern Hinduism. The essential feature of his character is that he takes three strides, which doubtless represent the course of the sun through the three divisions of the universe. His highest step is heaven, where the gods and the fathers dwell. For this abode the poet expresses his longing in the following words (i. 154, 5):-- May I attain to that, his well-loved dwelling, Where men devoted to the gods are blessèd: In Vishnu's highest step--he is our kinsman, Of mighty stride--there is a spring of nectar. Vishnu seems to have been originally conceived as the sun, not in his general character, but as the personified swiftly moving luminary which with vast strides traverses the three worlds. He is in several passages said to have taken his three steps for the benefit of man. To this feature may be traced the myth of the Brahmanas in which Vishnu appears in the form of a dwarf as an artifice to recover the earth, now in the possession of demons, by taking his three strides. His character for benevolence was in post-Vedic mythology developed in the doctrine of the Avatars ("descents" to earth) or incarnations which he assumed for the good of humanity. Ushas, goddess of dawn, is almost the only female deity to whom entire hymns are addressed, and the only one invoked with any frequency. She, however, is celebrated in some twenty hymns. The name, meaning the "Shining One," is cognate to the Latin Aurora and the Greek Eos. When the goddess is addressed, the physical phenomenon of dawn is never absent from the poet's mind. The fondness with which the thoughts of these priestly singers turned to her alone among the goddesses, though she received no share in the offering of soma like the other gods, seems to show that the glories of the dawn, more splendid in Northern India than those we are wont to see, deeply impressed the minds of these early poets. In any case, she is their most graceful creation, the charm of which is unsurpassed in the descriptive religious lyrics of any other literature. Here there are no priestly subtleties to obscure the brightness of her form, and few allusions to the sacrifice to mar the natural beauty of the imagery. To enable the reader to estimate the merit of this poetry I will string together some utterances about the Dawn goddess, culled from various hymns, and expressed as nearly as possible in the words of their composers. Ushas is a radiant maiden, born in the sky, daughter of Dyaus. She is the bright sister of dark Night. She shines with the light of her lover, with the light of Surya, who beams after her path and follows her as a young man a maiden. She is borne on a brilliant car, drawn by ruddy steeds or kine. Arraying herself in gay attire like a dancer, she displays her bosom. Clothed upon with light, the maiden appears in the east and unveils her charms. Rising resplendent as from a bath, she shows her form. Effulgent in peerless beauty, she withholds her light from neither small nor great. She opens wide the gates of heaven; she opens the doors of darkness, as the cows (issue from) their stall. Her radiant beams appear like herds of cattle. She removes the black robe of night, warding off evil spirits and the hated darkness. She awakens creatures that have feet, and makes the birds fly up: she is the breath and life of everything. When Ushas shines forth, the birds fly up from their nests and men seek nourishment. She is the radiant mover of sweet sounds, the leader of the charm of pleasant voices. Day by day appearing at the appointed place, she never infringes the rule of order and of the gods; she goes straight along the path of order; knowing the way, she never loses her direction. As she shone in former days, so she shines now and will shine in future, never aging, immortal. The solitude and stillness of the early morning sometimes suggested pensive thoughts about the fleeting nature of human life in contrast with the unending recurrence of the dawn. Thus one poet exclaims:-- Gone are the mortals who in former ages Beheld the flushing of the earlier morning. We living men now look upon her shining; They are coming who shall in future see her (i. 113, 11). In a similar strain another Rishi sings:-- Again and again newly born though ancient, Decking her beauty with the self-same colours, The goddess wastes away the life of mortals, Like wealth diminished by the skilful player (i. 92, 10). The following stanzas from one of the finest hymns to Dawn (i. 113) furnish a more general picture of this fairest creation of Vedic poetry:-- This light has come, of all the lights the fairest, The brilliant brightness has been born, far-shining. Urged onward for god Savitri's uprising, Night now has yielded up her place to Morning. The sisters' pathway is the same, unending: Taught by the gods, alternately they tread it. Fair-shaped, of different forms and yet one-minded, Night and Morning clash not, nor do they linger. Bright leader of glad sounds, she shines effulgent: Widely she has unclosed for us her portals. Arousing all the world, she shows us riches: Dawn has awakened every living creature. There Heaven's Daughter has appeared before us, The maiden flushing in her brilliant garments. Thou sovran lady of all earthly treasure, Auspicious Dawn, flush here to-day upon us. In the sky's framework she has shone with splendour; The goddess has cast off the robe of darkness. Wakening up the world with ruddy horses, Upon her well-yoked chariot Dawn is coming. Bringing upon it many bounteous blessings, Brightly shining, she spreads her brilliant lustre. Last of the countless mornings that have gone by, First of bright morns to come has Dawn arisen. Arise! the breath, the life, again has reached us: Darkness has gone away and light is coming. She leaves a pathway for the sun to travel: We have arrived where men prolong existence. Among the deities of celestial light, those most frequently invoked are the twin gods of morning named Açvins. They are the sons of Heaven, eternally young and handsome. They ride on a car, on which they are accompanied by the sun-maiden Surya. This car is bright and sunlike, and all its parts are golden. The time when these gods appear is the early dawn, when "darkness still stands among the ruddy cows." At the yoking of their car Ushas is born. Many myths are told about the Açvins as succouring divinities. They deliver from distress in general, especially rescuing from the ocean in a ship or ships. They are characteristically divine physicians, who give sight to the blind and make the lame to walk. One very curious myth is that of the maiden Viçpala, who having had her leg cut off in some conflict, was at once furnished by the Açvins with an iron limb. They agree in many respects with the two famous horsemen of Greek mythology, the Dioskouroi, sons of Zeus and brothers of Helen. The two most probable theories as to the origin of these twin deities are, that they represent either the twilight, half dark, half light, or the morning and evening star. In the realm of air Indra is the dominant deity. He is, indeed, the favourite and national god of the Vedic Indian. His importance is sufficiently indicated by the fact that more than one-fourth of the Rigveda is devoted to his praise. Handed down from a bygone age, Indra has become more anthropomorphic and surrounded by mythological imagery than any other Vedic god. The significance of his character is nevertheless sufficiently clear. He is primarily the thunder-god, the conquest of the demon of drought or darkness named Vritra, the "Obstructor," and the consequent liberation of the waters or the winning of light, forming his mythological essence. This myth furnishes the Rishis with an ever-recurring theme. Armed with his thunderbolt, exhilarated by copious draughts of soma, and generally escorted by the Maruts or Storm-gods, Indra enters upon the fray. The conflict is terrible. Heaven and earth tremble with fear when Indra smites Vritra like a tree with his bolt. He is described as constantly repeating the combat. This obviously corresponds to the perpetual renewal of the natural phenomena underlying the myth. The physical elements in the thunderstorm are seldom directly mentioned by the poets when describing the exploits of Indra. He is rarely said to shed rain, but constantly to release the pent-up waters or rivers. The lightning is regularly the "bolt," while thunder is the lowing of the cows or the roaring of the dragon. The clouds are designated by various names, such as cow, udder, spring, cask, or pail. They are also rocks (adri), which encompass the cows set free by Indra. They are further mountains from which Indra casts down the demons dwelling upon them. They thus often become fortresses (pur) of the demons, which are ninety, ninety-nine, or a hundred in number, and are variously described as "moving," "autumnal," "made of iron or stone." One stanza (x. 89, 7) thus brings together the various features of the myth: "Indra slew Vritra, broke the castles, made a channel for the rivers, pierced the mountain, and delivered over the cows to his friends." Owing to the importance of the Vritra myth, the chief and specific epithet of Indra is Vritrahan, "slayer of Vritra." The following stanzas are from one of the most graphic of the hymns which celebrate the conflict of Indra with the demon (i. 32):-- I will proclaim the manly deeds of Indra, The first that he performed, the lightning-wielder. He smote the dragon, then discharged the waters, And cleft the caverns of the lofty mountains. Impetuous as a bull, he chose the soma, And drank in threefold vessels of its juices. The Bounteous god grasped lightning for his missile, He struck down dead that first-born of the dragons. Him lightning then availèd naught, nor thunder, Nor mist nor hailstorm which he spread around him: When Indra and the dragon strove in battle, The Bounteous god gained victory for ever. Plunged in the midst of never-ceasing torrents, That stand not still but ever hasten onward, The waters bear off Vritra's hidden body: Indra's fierce foe sank down to lasting darkness. With the liberation of the waters is connected the winning of light and the sun. Thus we read that when Indra had slain the dragon Vritra with his bolt, releasing the waters for man, he placed the sun visibly in the heavens, or that the sun shone forth when Indra blew the dragon from the air. Indra naturally became the god of battle, and is more frequently invoked than any other deity as a helper in conflicts with earthly enemies. In the words of one poet, he protects the Aryan colour (varna) and subjects the black skin; while another extols him for having dispersed 50,000 of the black race and rent their citadels. His combats are frequently called gavishti, "desire of cows," his gifts being considered the result of victories. The following stanzas (ii. 12, 2 and 13) will serve as a specimen of the way in which the greatness of Indra is celebrated:-- Who made the widespread earth when quaking steadfast, Who brought to rest the agitated mountains. Who measured out air's intermediate spaces, Who gave the sky support: he, men, is Indra. Heaven and earth themselves bow down before him, Before his might the very mountains tremble. Who, known as Soma-drinker, armed with lightning, Is wielder of the bolt: he, men, is Indra. To the more advanced anthropomorphism of Indra's nature are due the occasional immoral traits which appear in his character. Thus he sometimes indulges in acts of capricious violence, such as the slaughter of his father or the destruction of the car of Dawn. He is especially addicted to soma, of which he is described as drinking enormous quantities to stimulate him in the performance of his warlike exploits. One entire hymn (x. 119) consists of a monologue in which Indra, inebriated with soma, boasts of his greatness and power. Though of little poetic merit, this piece has a special interest as being by far the earliest literary description of the mental effects, braggadocio in particular, produced by intoxication. In estimating the morality of Indra's excesses, it should not be forgotten that the exhilaration of soma partook of a religious character in the eyes of the Vedic poets. Indra's name is found in the Avesta as that of a demon. His distinctive Vedic epithet, Vritrahan, also occurs there in the form of verethraghna, as a designation of the god of victory. Hence there was probably in the Indo-Iranian period a god approaching to the Vedic form of the Vritra-slaying and victorious Indra. In comparing historically Varuna and Indra, whose importance was about equal in the earlier period of the Rigveda, it seems clear that Varuna was greater in the Indo-Iranian period, but became inferior to Indra in later Vedic times. Indra, on the other hand, became in the Brahmanas and Epics the chief of the Indian heaven, and even maintained this position under the Puranic triad, Brahma-Vishnu-Çiva, though of course subordinate to them. At least three of the lesser deities of the air are connected with lightning. One of these is the somewhat obscure god Trita, who is only mentioned in detached verses of the Rigveda. The name appears to designate the "third" (Greek, trito-s), as the lightning form of fire. His frequent epithet, Aptya, seems to mean the "watery." This god goes back to the Indo-Iranian period, as both his name and his epithet are found in the Avesta. But he was gradually ousted by Indra as being originally almost identical in character with the latter. Another deity of rare occurrence in the Rigveda, and also dating from the Indo-Iranian period, is Apam napat, the "Son of Waters." He is described as clothed in lightning and shining without fuel in the waters. There can, therefore, be little doubt that he represents fire as produced from the rain-clouds in the form of lightning. Matariçvan, seldom mentioned in the Rigveda, is a divine being described as having, like the Greek Prometheus, brought down the hidden fire from heaven to earth. He most probably represents the personification of a celestial form of Agni, god of fire, with whom he is in some passages actually identified. In the later Vedas, the Brahmanas, and the subsequent literature, the name has become simply a designation of wind. The position occupied by the god Rudra in the Rigveda is very different from that of his historical successor in a later age. He is celebrated in only three or four hymns, while his name is mentioned slightly less often than that of Vishnu. He is usually said to be armed with bow and arrows, but a lightning shaft and a thunderbolt are also occasionally assigned to him. He is described as fierce and destructive like a wild beast, and is called "the ruddy boar of heaven." The hymns addressed to him chiefly express fear of his terrible shafts and deprecation of his wrath. His malevolence is still more prominent in the later Vedic literature. The euphemistic epithet Çiva, "auspicious," already applied to him in the Rigveda, and more frequently, though not exclusively, in the younger Vedas, became his regular name in the post-Vedic period. Rudra is, of course, not purely malevolent like a demon. He is besought not only to preserve from calamity but to bestow blessings and produce welfare for man and beast. His healing powers are mentioned with especial frequency, and he is lauded as the greatest of physicians. Prominent among the gods of the Rigveda are the Maruts or Storm-gods, who form a group of thrice seven or thrice sixty. They are the sons of Rudra and the mottled cloud-cow Priçni. At birth they are compared with fires, and are once addressed as "born from the laughter of lightning." They are a troop of youthful warriors armed with spears or battle-axes and wearing helmets upon their heads. They are decked with golden ornaments, chiefly in the form of armlets or of anklets:-- They gleam with armlets as the heavens are decked with stars; Like cloud-born lightnings shine the torrents of their rain (ii. 34, 2). They ride on golden cars which gleam with lightning, while they hold fiery lightnings in their hands:-- The lightnings smile upon the earth below them What time the Maruts sprinkle forth their fatness.--(i. 168, 8). They drive with coursers which are often described as spotted, and they are once said to have yoked the winds as steeds to their pole. The Maruts are fierce and terrible, like lions or wild boars. With the fellies of their car they rend the hills:-- The Maruts spread the mist abroad, And make the mountains rock and reel, When with the winds they go their way (viii. 7, 4). They shatter the lords of the forest and like wild elephants devour the woods:-- Before you, fierce ones, even woods bow down in fear, The earth herself, the very mountain trembles (v. 60, 2). One of their main functions is to shed rain. They are clad in a robe of rain, and cover the eye of the sun with showers. They bedew the earth with milk; they shed fatness (ghee); they milk the thundering, the never-failing spring; they wet the earth with mead; they pour out the heavenly pail:-- The rivers echo to their chariot fellies What time they utter forth the voice of rain-clouds.--(i. 168, 8). In allusion to the sound of the winds the Maruts are often called singers, and as such aid Indra in his fight with the demon. They are, indeed, his constant associates in all his celestial conflicts. The God of Wind, called Vayu or Vata, is not a prominent deity in the Rigveda, having only three entire hymns addressed to him. The personification is more developed under the name of Vayu, who is mostly associated with Indra, while Vata is coupled only with the less anthropomorphic rain-god, Parjanya. Vayu is swift as thought and has roaring velocity. He has a shining car drawn by a team or a pair of ruddy steeds. On this car, which has a golden seat and touches the sky, Indra is his companion. Vata, as also the ordinary designation of wind, is celebrated in a more concrete manner. His name is often connected with the verb va, "to blow," from which it is derived. Like Rudra, he wafts healing and prolongs life; for he has the treasure of immortality in his house. The poet of a short hymn (x. 168) devoted to his praise thus describes him:-- Of Vata's car I now will praise the greatness: Crashing it speeds along; its noise is thunder. Touching the sky, it goes on causing lightnings; Scattering the dust of earth it hurries forward. In air upon his pathways hastening onward, Never on any day he tarries resting. The first-born order-loving friend of waters, Where, pray, was he born? say, whence came he hither? The soul of gods, and of the world the offspring, This god according to his liking wanders. His sound is heard, but ne'er is seen his figure. This Vata let us now with offerings worship. Another deity of air is Parjanya, god of rain, who is invoked in but three hymns, and is only mentioned some thirty times in the Rigveda. The name in several passages still means simply "rain-cloud." The personification is therefore always closely connected with the phenomenon of the rain-storm, in which the rain-cloud itself becomes an udder, a pail, or a water-skin. Often likened to a bull, Parjanya is characteristically a shedder of rain. His activity is described in very vivid strains (v. 83):-- The trees he strikes to earth and smites the demon crew: The whole world fears the wielder of the mighty bolt. The guiltless man himself flees from the potent god, What time Parjanya thund'ring smites the miscreant. Like a car-driver urging on his steeds with whips, He causes to bound forth the messengers of rain. From far away the lion's roar reverberates, What time Parjanya fills the atmosphere with rain. Forth blow the winds, to earth the lightning flashes fall, Up shoot the herbs, the realm of light with moisture streams; Nourishment in abundance springs for all the world, What time Parjanya quickeneth the earth with seed. Thunder and roar: the vital germ deposit! With water-bearing chariot fly around us! Thy water-skin unloosed to earth draw downward: With moisture make the heights and hollows equal! The Waters are praised as goddesses in four hymns of the Rigveda. The personification, however, hardly goes beyond representing them as mothers, young wives, and goddesses who bestow boons and come to the sacrifice. As mothers they produce Agni, whose lightning form is, as we have seen, called Apam Napat, "Son of Waters." The divine waters bear away defilement, and are even invoked to cleanse from moral guilt, the sins of violence, cursing, and lying. They bestow remedies, healing, long life, and immortality. Soma delights in the waters as a young man in lovely maidens; he approaches them as a lover; they are maidens who bow down before the youth. Several rivers are personified and invoked as deities in the Rigveda. One hymn (x. 75) celebrates the Sindhu or Indus, while another (iii. 33) sings the praises of the sister streams Vipaç and Çutudri. Sarasvati is, however, the most important river goddess, being lauded in three entire hymns as well as in many detached verses. The personification here goes much further than in the case of other streams; but the poets never lose sight of the connection of the goddess with the river. She is the best of mothers, of rivers, and of goddesses. Her unfailing breast yields riches of every kind, and she bestows wealth, plenty, nourishment, and offspring. One poet prays that he may not be removed from her to fields which are strange. She is invoked to descend from the sky, from the great mountain, to the sacrifice. Such expressions may have suggested the notion of the celestial origin and descent of the Ganges, familiar to post-Vedic mythology. Though simply a river deity in the Rigveda, Sarasvati is in the Brahmanas identified with Vach, goddess of speech, and has in post-Vedic mythology become the goddess of eloquence and wisdom, invoked as a muse, and regarded as the wife of Brahma. Earth, Prithivi, the Broad One, hardly ever dissociated from Dyaus, is celebrated alone in only one short hymn of three stanzas (v. 84). Even here the poet cannot refrain from introducing references to her heavenly spouse as he addresses the goddess, Who, firmly fixt, the forest trees With might supportest in the ground: When from the lightning of thy cloud The rain-floods of the sky pour down. The personification is only rudimentary, the attributes of the goddess being chiefly those of the physical earth. The most important of the terrestrial deities is Agni, god of fire. Next to Indra he is the most prominent of the Vedic gods, being celebrated in more than 200 hymns. It is only natural that the personification of the sacrificial fire, the centre around which the ritual poetry of the Veda moves, should engross so much of the attention of the Rishis. Agni being also the regular name of the element (Latin, igni-s), the anthropomorphism of the deity is but slight. The bodily parts of the god have a clear connection with the phenomena of terrestrial fire mainly in its sacrificial aspect. In allusion to the oblation of ghee cast in the fire, Agni is "butter-backed," "butter-faced," or "butter-haired." He is also "flame-haired," and has a tawny beard. He has sharp, shining, golden, or iron teeth and burning jaws. Mention is also often made of his tongue or tongues. He is frequently compared with or directly called a steed, being yoked to the pole of the rite in order to waft the sacrifice to the gods. He is also often likened to a bird, being winged and darting with rapid flight to the gods. He eats and chews the forest with sharp tooth. His lustre is like the rays of dawn or of the sun, and resembles the lightnings of the rain-cloud; but his track and his fellies are black, and his steeds make black furrows. Driven by the wind, he rushes through the wood. He invades the forests and shears the hairs of the earth, shaving it as a barber a beard. His flames are like the roaring waves of the sea. He bellows like a bull when he invades the forest trees; the birds are terrified at the noise when his grass-devouring sparks arise. Like the erector of a pillar, he supports the sky with his smoke; and one of his distinctive epithets is "smoke-bannered." He is borne on a brilliant car, drawn by two or more steeds, which are ruddy or tawny and wind-impelled. He yokes them to summon the gods, for he is the charioteer of the sacrifice. The poets love to dwell on his various births, forms, and abodes. They often refer to the daily generation of Agni by friction from the two fire-sticks. These are his parents, producing him as a new-born infant who is hard to catch. From the dry wood the god is born living; the child as soon as born devours his parents. The ten maidens said to produce him are the ten fingers used in twirling the upright fire-drill. Agni is called "Son of strength" because of the powerful friction necessary in kindling a flame. As the fire is lit every morning for the sacrifice, Agni is described as "waking at dawn." Hence, too, he is the "youngest" of the gods; but he is also old, for he conducted the first sacrifice. Thus he comes to be paradoxically called both "ancient" and "very young" in the same passage. Agni also springs from the aërial waters, and is often said to have been brought from heaven. Born on earth, in air, in heaven, Agni is frequently regarded as having a triple character. The gods made him threefold, his births are three, and he has three abodes or dwellings. "From heaven first Agni was born, the second time from us (i.e. men), thirdly in the waters." This earliest Indian trinity is important as the basis of much of the mystical speculation of the Vedic age. It was probably the prototype not only of the later Rigvedic triad, Sun, Wind, Fire, spoken of as distributed in the three worlds, but also of the triad Sun, Indra, Fire, which, though not Rigvedic, is still ancient. It is most likely also the historical progenitor of the later Hindu trinity of Brahma, Vishnu, Çiva. This triad of fires may have suggested and would explain the division of a single sacrificial fire into the three which form an essential feature of the cult of the Brahmanas. Owing to the multiplicity of terrestrial fires, Agni is also said to have many births; for he abides in every family, house, or dwelling. Kindled in many spots, he is but one; scattered in many places, he is one and the same king. Other fires are attached to him as branches to a tree. He assumes various divine forms, and has many names; but in him are comprehended all the gods, whom he surrounds as a felly the spokes. Thus we find the speculations about Agni's various forms leading to the monotheistic notion of a unity pervading the many manifestations of the divine. Agni is an immortal who has taken up his abode among mortals; he is constantly called a "guest" in human dwellings; and is the only god to whom the frequent epithet grihapati, "lord of the house," is applied. As the conductor of sacrifice, Agni is repeatedly called both a "messenger" who moves between heaven and earth and a priest. He is indeed the great priest, just as Indra is the great warrior. Agni is, moreover, a mighty benefactor of his worshippers. With a thousand eyes he watches over the man who offers him oblations; but consumes his worshippers' enemies like dry bushes, and strikes down the malevolent like a tree destroyed by lightning. All blessings issue from him as branches from a tree. All treasures are collected in him, and he opens the door of wealth. He gives rain from heaven and is like a spring in the desert. The boons which he confers are, however, chiefly domestic welfare, offspring, and general prosperity, while Indra for the most part grants victory, booty, power, and glory. Probably the oldest function of fire in regard to its cult is that of burning and dispelling evil spirits and hostile magic. It still survives in the Rigveda from an earlier age, Agni being said to drive away the goblins with his light and receiving the epithet rakshohan, "goblin-slayer." This activity is at any rate more characteristic of Agni than of any other deity, both in the hymns and in the ritual of the Vedas. Since the soma sacrifice, beside the cult of fire, forms a main feature in the ritual of the Rigveda, the god Soma is naturally one of its chief deities. The whole of the ninth book, in addition to a few scattered hymns elsewhere, is devoted to his praise. Thus, judged by the standard of frequency of mention, Soma comes third in order of importance among the Vedic gods. The constant presence of the soma plant and its juice before their eyes set limits to the imagination of the poets who describe its personification. Hence little is said of Soma's human form or action. The ninth book mainly consists of incantations sung over the soma while it is pressed by the stones and flows through the woollen strainer into the wooden vats, in which it is finally offered as a beverage to the gods on a litter of grass. The poets are chiefly concerned with these processes, overlaying them with chaotic imagery and mystical fancies of almost infinite variety. When Soma is described as being purified by the ten maidens who are sisters, or by the daughters of Vivasvat (the rising sun), the ten fingers are meant. The stones used in pounding the shoots on a skin "chew him on the hide of a cow." The flowing of the juice into jars or vats after passing through the filter of sheep's wool is described in various ways. The streams of soma rush to the forest of the vats like buffaloes. The god flies like a bird to settle in the vats. The Tawny One settles in the bowls like a bird sitting on a tree. The juice being mixed with water in the vat, Soma is said to rush into the lap of the waters like a roaring bull on the herd. Clothing himself in waters, he rushes around the vat, impelled by the singers. Playing in the wood, he is cleansed by the ten maidens. He is the embryo or child of waters, which are called his mothers. When the priests add milk to soma "they clothe him in cow-garments." The sound made by the soma juice flowing into the vats or bowls is often referred to in hyperbolical language. Thus a poet says that "the sweet drop flows over the filter like the din of combatants." This sound is constantly described as roaring, bellowing, or occasionally even thundering. In such passages Soma is commonly compared with or called a bull, and the waters, with or without milk, are termed cows. Owing to the yellow colour of the juice, the physical quality of Soma mainly dwelt upon by the poets is his brilliance. His rays are often referred to, and he is frequently assimilated to the sun. The exhilarating and invigorating action of soma led to its being regarded as a divine drink that bestows everlasting life. Hence it is called amrita, the "immortal" draught (allied to the Greek ambrosia). Soma is the stimulant which conferred immortality upon the gods. Soma also places his worshipper in the imperishable world where there is eternal light and glory, making him immortal where King Yama dwells. Thus soma naturally has medicinal power also. It is medicine for a sick man, and the god Soma heals whatever is sick, making the blind to see and the lame to walk. Soma when imbibed stimulates the voice, which it impels as the rower his boat. Soma also awakens eager thought, and the worshippers of the god exclaim, "We have drunk soma, we have become immortal, we have entered into light, we have known the gods." The intoxicating power of soma is chiefly, and very frequently, dwelt on in connection with Indra, whom it stimulates in his conflict with the hostile demons of the air. Being the most important of herbs, soma is spoken of as lord of plants or their king, receiving also the epithet vanaspati, "lord of the forest." Soma is several times described as dwelling or growing on the mountains, in accordance with the statements of the Avesta about Haoma. Its true origin and abode is regarded as heaven, whence it has been brought down to earth. This belief is most frequently embodied in the myth of the soma-bringing eagle (çyena), which is probably only the mythological account of the simple phenomenon of the descent of lightning and the simultaneous fall of rain. In some of the latest hymns of the Rigveda Soma begins to be somewhat obscurely identified with the moon. In the Atharva-veda Soma several times means the moon, and in the Yajurveda Soma is spoken of as having the lunar mansions for his wives. The identification is a commonplace in the Brahmanas, which explain the waning of the moon as due to the gods and fathers eating up the ambrosia of which it consists. In one of the Upanishads, moreover, the statement occurs that the moon is King Soma, the food of the gods, and is drunk up by them. Finally, in post-Vedic literature Soma is a regular name of the moon, which is regarded as being consumed by the gods, and consequently waning till it is filled up again by the sun. This somewhat remarkable coalescence of Soma with the moon doubtless sprang from the hyperbolical terms in which the poets of the Rigveda dwell on Soma's celestial nature and brilliance, which they describe as dispelling darkness. They sometimes speak of it as swelling in the waters, and often refer to the sap as a "drop" (indu). Comparisons with the moon would thus easily suggest themselves. In one passage of the Rigveda, for instance, Soma in the bowls is said to appear like the moon in the waters. The mystical speculations with which the Soma poetry teems would soon complete the symbolism. A comparison of the Avesta with the Rigveda shows clearly that soma was already an important feature in the mythology and cult of the Indo-Iranian age. In both it is described as growing on the mountains, whence it is brought by birds; in both it is king of plants; in both a medicine bestowing long life and removing death. In both the sap was pressed and mixed with milk; in both its mythical home is heaven, whence it comes down to earth; in both the draught has become a mighty god; in both the celestial Soma is distinguished from the terrestrial, the god from the beverage. The similarity goes so far that Soma and Haoma have even some individual epithets in common. The evolution of thought in the Rigvedic period shows a tendency to advance from the concrete to the abstract. One result of this tendency is the creation of abstract deities, which, however, are still rare, occurring for the most part in the last book only. A few of them are deifications of abstract nouns, such as Çraddha "Faith," invoked in one short hymn, and Manyu, "Wrath," in two. These abstractions grow more numerous in the later Vedas. Thus Kama, "Desire," first appears in the Atharva-veda, where the arrows with which he pierces hearts are already referred to; he is the forerunner of the flower-arrowed god of love, familiar in classical literature. More numerous is the class of abstractions comprising deities whose names denote an agent, such as Dhatri, "Creator," or an attribute, such as Prajapati, "Lord of Creatures." These do not appear to be direct abstractions, but seem to be derived from epithets designating a particular aspect of activity or character, which at first applying to one or more of the older deities, finally acquired an independent value. Thus Prajapati, originally an epithet of such gods as Savitri and Soma, occurs in a late verse of the last book as a distinct deity possessing the attribute of a creator. This god is in the Atharva-veda and the Vajasaneyi-Samhita often, and in the Brahmanas regularly, recognised as the chief deity, the father of the gods. In the Sutras, Prajapati is identified with Brahma, his successor in the post-Vedic age. A hymn of the tenth book furnishes an interesting illustration of the curious way in which such abstractions sometimes come into being. Here is one of the stanzas:-- By whom the mighty sky, the earth so steadfast, The realm of light, heaven's vault, has been established, Who in the air the boundless space traverses: What god should we with sacrifices worship? The fourth line here is the refrain of nine successive stanzas, in which the creator is referred to as unknown, with the interrogative pronoun ka, "what?" This ka in the later Vedic literature came to be employed not only as an epithet of the creator Prajapati, but even as an independent name of the supreme god. A deity of an abstract character occurring in the oldest as well as the latest parts of the Rigveda is Brihaspati, "Lord of Prayer." Roth and other distinguished Vedic scholars regard him as a direct personification of devotion. In the opinion of the present writer, however, he is only an indirect deification of the sacrificial activity of Agni, a god with whom he has undoubtedly much in common. Thus the most prominent feature of his character is his priesthood. Like Agni, he has been drawn into and has obtained a firm footing in the Indra myth. Thus he is often described as driving out the cows after vanquishing the demon Vala. As the divine brahma priest, Brihaspati seems to have been the prototype of the god Brahma, chief of the later Hindu trinity. But the name Brihaspati itself survived in post-Vedic mythology as the designation of a sage, the teacher of the gods, and regent of the planet Jupiter. Another abstraction, and one of a very peculiar kind, is the goddess Aditi. Though not the subject of any separate hymn, she is often incidentally celebrated. She has two, and only two, prominent characteristics. She is, in the first place, the mother of the small group of gods called Adityas, of whom Varuna is the chief. Secondly, she has, like her son Varuna, the power of releasing from the bonds of physical suffering and moral guilt. With the latter trait her name, which means "unbinding," "freedom," is clearly connected. The unpersonified sense seems to survive in a few passages of the Rigveda. Thus a poet prays for the "secure and unlimited gift of aditi." The origin of the abstraction is probably to be explained as follows. The expression "sons of Aditi," which is several times applied to the Adityas, when first used in all likelihood meant "sons of liberation," to emphasise a salient trait of their character, according to a turn of language common in the Rigveda. The feminine word "liberation" (aditi) used in this connection would then have become personified by a process which has more than one parallel in Sanskrit. Thus Aditi, a goddess of Indian origin, is historically younger than some at least of her sons, who can be traced back to a pre-Indian age. Goddesses, as a whole, occupy a very subordinate position in Vedic belief. They play hardly any part as rulers of the world. The only one of any consequence is Ushas. The next in importance, Sarasvati, ranks only with the least prominent of the male gods. One of the few, besides Prithivi, to whom an entire hymn is addressed, is Ratri, Night. Like her sister Dawn, with whom she is often coupled, she is addressed as a daughter of the sky. She is conceived not as the dark, but as the bright starlit night. Thus, in contrasting the twin goddesses, a poet says, "One decks herself with stars, with sunlight the other." The following stanzas are from the hymn addressed to Night (x. 127):-- Night coming on, the goddess shines In many places with her eyes: All-glorious she has decked herself. Immortal goddess, far and wide She fills the valleys and the heights: Darkness with light she overcomes. And now the goddess coming on Has driven away her sister Dawn: Far off the darkness hastes away. Thus, goddess, come to us to-day, At whose approach we seek our homes, As birds upon the tree their nest. The villagers have gone to rest, Beasts, too, with feet and birds with wings: The hungry hawk himself is still. Ward off the she-wolf and the wolf, Ward off the robber, goddess Night: And take us safe across the gloom. Goddesses, as wives of the great gods, play a still more insignificant part, being entirely devoid of independent character. Indeed, hardly anything about them is mentioned but their names, which are simply formed from those of their male consorts by means of feminine suffixes. A peculiar feature of Vedic mythology is the invocation in couples of a number of deities whose names are combined in the form of dual compounds. About a dozen such pairs are celebrated in entire hymns, and some half-dozen others in detached stanzas. By far the greatest number of such hymns is addressed to Mitra-Varuna, but the names most often found combined in this way are those of Heaven and Earth (Dyavaprithivi). There can be little doubt that the latter couple furnished the analogy for this favourite formation. For the association of this pair, traceable as far back as the Indo-European period, appeared to early thought so intimate in nature, that the myth of their conjugal union is found widely diffused among primitive peoples. Besides these pairs of deities there is a certain number of more or less definite groups of divine beings generally associated with some particular god. The largest and most important of these are the Maruts or Storm-gods, who, as we have seen, constantly attend Indra on his warlike exploits. The same group, under the name of Rudras, is occasionally associated with their father Rudra. The smaller group of the Adityas is constantly mentioned in company with their mother Aditi, or their chief Varuna. Their number in two passages of the Rigveda is stated as seven or eight, while in the Brahmanas and later it is regularly twelve. Some eight or ten hymns of the Rigveda are addressed to them collectively. The following lines are taken from one (viii. 47) in which their aid and protection is specially invoked:-- As birds extend their sheltering wings, Spread your protection over us. As charioteers avoid ill roads, May dangers always pass us by. Resting in you, O gods, we are Like men that fight in coats of mail. Look down on us, O Adityas, Like spies observing from the bank: Lead us to paths of pleasantness, Like horses to an easy ford. A third and much less important group is that of the Vasus, mostly associated with Indra in the Rigveda, though in later Vedic texts Agni becomes their leader. They are a vague group, for they are not characterised, having neither individual names nor any definite number. The Brahmanas, however, mention eight of them. Finally, there are the Viçvedevas or All-gods, to whom some sixty hymns are addressed. It is a factitious sacrificial group meant to embrace the whole pantheon in order that none should be excluded in invocations intended to be addressed to all. Strange to say, the All-gods are sometimes conceived as a narrower group, which is invoked with others like the Vasus and Adityas. Besides the higher gods the Rigveda knows a number of mythical beings not regarded as possessing the divine nature to the full extent and from the beginning. The most important of these are the Ribhus who form a triad, and are addressed in eleven hymns. Characteristically deft-handed, they are often said to have acquired the rank of deities by their marvellous skill. Among the five great feats of dexterity whereby they became gods, the greatest--in which they appear as successful rivals of Tvashtri, the artificer god--consists in their having transformed his bowl, the drinking vessel of the gods, into four shining cups. This bowl perhaps represents the moon, the four cups being its phases. It has also been interpreted as the year with its division into seasons. The Ribhus are further said to have renewed the youth of their parents, by whom Heaven and Earth seem to have been meant. With this miraculous deed another myth told about them appears to be specially connected. They rested for twelve days in the house of the sun, Agohya ("who cannot be concealed"). This sojourn of the Ribhus in the house of the sun in all probability alludes to the winter solstice, the twelve days being the addition which was necessary to bring the lunar year of 354 into harmony with the solar year of nearly 366 days, and was intercalated before the days begin to grow perceptibly longer. On the whole, it seems likely that the Ribhus were originally terrestrial or aërial elves, whose dexterity gradually attracted to them various myths illustrative of marvellous skill. In a few passages of the Rigveda mention is made of a celestial water-nymph called Apsaras ("moving in the waters"), who is regarded as the spouse of a corresponding male genius called Gandharva. The Apsaras, in the words of the poet, smiles at her beloved in the highest heaven. More Apsarases than one are occasionally spoken of. Their abode is in the later Vedas extended to the earth, where they especially frequent trees, which resound with the music of their lutes and cymbals. The Brahmanas describe them as distinguished by great beauty and devoted to dance, song, and play. In the post-Vedic period they become the courtesans of Indra's heaven. The Apsarases are loved not only by the Gandharvas but occasionally even by men. Such an one was Urvaçi. A dialogue between her and her earthly spouse, Pururavas, is contained in a somewhat obscure hymn of the Rigveda (x. 95). The nymph is here made to say:-- Among mortals in other form I wandered, And dwelt for many nights throughout four autumns. Her lover implores her to return; but, though his request is refused, he (like Tithonus) receives the promise of immortality. The Çatapatha Brahmana tells the story in a more connected and detailed form. Urvaçi is joined with Pururavas in an alliance, the permanence of which depends on a condition. When this is broken by a stratagem of the Gandharvas, the nymph immediately vanishes from the sight of her lover. Pururavas, distracted, roams in search of her, till at last he observes her swimming in a lotus lake with other Apsarases in the form of an aquatic bird. Urvaçi discovers herself to him, and in response to his entreaties, consents to return for once after the lapse of a year. This myth in the post-Vedic age furnished the theme of Kalidasa's play Vikramorvaçi. Gandharva appears to have been conceived originally as a single being. For in the Rigveda the name nearly always occurs in the singular, and in the Avesta, where it is found a few times in the form of Gandarewa, only in the singular. According to the Rigveda, this genius, the lover of the water-nymph, dwells in the fathomless spaces of air, and stands erect on the vault of heaven. He is also a guardian of the celestial soma, and is sometimes, as in the Avesta, connected with the waters. In the later Vedas the Gandharvas form a class, their association with the Apsarases being so frequent as to amount to a stereotyped phrase. In the post-Vedic age they have become celestial singers, and the notion of their home being in the realm of air survives in the expression "City of the Gandharvas" as one of the Sanskrit names for "mirage." Among the numerous ancient priests and heroes of the Rigveda the most important is Manu, the first sacrificer and the ancestor of the human race. The poets refer to him as "our father," and speak of sacrificers as "the people of Manu." The Çatapatha Brahmana makes Manu play the part of a Noah in the history of human descent. A group of ancient priests are the Angirases, who are closely associated with Indra in the myth of the capture of the cows. Another ancient race of mythical priests are the Bhrigus, to whom the Indian Prometheus, Matariçvan, brought the hidden Agni from heaven, and whose function was the establishment and diffusion of the sacrificial fire on earth. A numerically definite group of ancestral priests, rarely mentioned in the Rigveda, are the seven Rishis or seers. In the Brahmanas they came to be regarded as the seven stars in the constellation of the Great Bear, and are said to have been bears in the beginning. This curious identification was doubtless brought about partly by the sameness of the number in the two cases, and partly by the similarity of sound between rishi, "seer," and riksha, which in the Rigveda means both "star" and "bear." Animals play a considerable part in the mythological and religious conceptions of the Veda. Among them the horse is conspicuous as drawing the cars of the gods, and in particular as representing the sun under various names. In the Vedic ritual the horse was regarded as symbolical of the sun and of fire. Two hymns of the Rigveda (i. 162-163) which deal with the subject, further show that horse-sacrifice was practised in the earliest age of Indian antiquity. The cow, however, is the animal which figures most largely in the Rigveda. This is undoubtedly due to the important position, resulting from its pre-eminent utility, occupied by this animal even in the remotest period of Indian life. The beams of dawn and the clouds are cows. The rain-cloud, personified under the name of Priçni, "the speckled one," is a cow, the mother of the Storm-gods. The bountiful clouds on which all wealth in India depended, were doubtless the prototypes of the many-coloured cows which yield all desires in the heaven of the blest described by the Atharva-veda, and which are the forerunners of the "Cow of Plenty" (Kamaduh) so familiar to post-Vedic poetry. The earth itself is often spoken of by the poets of the Rigveda as a cow. That this animal already possessed a sacred character is shown by the fact that one Rishi addresses a cow as Aditi and a goddess, impressing upon his hearers that she should not be slain. Aghnya ("not to be killed"), a frequent designation of the cow in the Rigveda, points in the same direction. Indeed the evidence of the Avesta proves that the sanctity of this animal goes back even to the Indo-Iranian period. In the Atharva-veda the worship of the cow is fully recognised, while the Çatapatha Brahmana emphasises the evil consequences of eating beef. The sanctity of the cow has not only survived in India down to the present day, but has even gathered strength with the lapse of time. The part played by the greased cartridges in the Indian Mutiny is sufficient to prove this statement. To no other animal has mankind owed so much, and the debt has been richly repaid in India with a veneration unknown in other lands. So important a factor has the cow proved in Indian life and thought, that an exhaustive account of her influence from the earliest times would form a noteworthy chapter in the history of civilisation. Among the noxious animals of the Rigveda the serpent is the most prominent. This is the form which the powerful demon, the foe of Indra, is believed to possess. The serpent also appears as a divine being in the form of the rarely mentioned Ahi budhnya, "the Dragon of the Deep," supposed to dwell in the fathomless depths of the aërial ocean, and probably representing the beneficent side of the character of the serpent Vritra. In the later Vedas the serpents are mentioned as a class of semi-divine beings along with the Gandharvas and others; and in the Sutras offerings to them are prescribed. In the latter works we meet for the first time with the Nagas, in reality serpents, and human only in form. In post-Vedic times serpent-worship is found all over India. Since there is no trace of it in the Rigveda, while it prevails widely among the non-Aryan Indians, there is reason to believe that when the Aryans spread over India, the land of serpents, they found the cult diffused among the aborigines and borrowed it from them. Plants are frequently invoked as divinities, chiefly in enumerations along with waters, rivers, mountains, heaven, and earth. One entire hymn (x. 97) is, however, devoted to the praise of plants (oshadhi) alone, mainly with regard to their healing powers. Later Vedic texts mention offerings made to plants and the adoration paid to large trees passed in marriage processions. One hymn of the Rigveda (x. 146) celebrates the forest as a whole, personified as Aranyani, the mocking genius of the woods. The weird sights and sounds of the gloaming are here described with a fine perception of nature. In the dark solitudes of the jungle Sounds as of grazing cows are heard, A dwelling-house appears to loom, And Aranyani, Forest-nymph, Creaks like a cart at eventide. Here some one calls his cow to him, Another there is felling wood; Who tarries in the forest-glade Thinks to himself, "I heard a cry." Never does Aranyani hurt Unless one goes too near to her: When she has eaten of sweet fruit At her own will she goes to rest. Sweet-scented, redolent of balm, Replete with food, yet tilling not, Mother of beasts, the Forest-nymph, Her I have magnified with praise. On the whole, however, the part played by plant, tree, and forest deities is a very insignificant one in the Rigveda. A strange religious feature pointing to a remote antiquity is the occasional deification and worship even of objects fashioned by the hand of man, when regarded as useful to him. These are chiefly sacrificial implements. Thus in one hymn (iii. 8) the sacrificial post (called "lord of the forest") is invoked, while three hymns of the tenth book celebrate the pressing stones used in preparing soma. The plough is invoked in a few stanzas; and an entire hymn (vi. 75) is devoted to the praise of various implements of war, while one in the Atharva-veda (v. 20) glorifies the drum. The demons so frequently mentioned in the Rigveda are of two classes. The one consists of the aërial adversaries of the gods. The older view is that of a conflict waged between a single god and a single demon. This gradually developed into the notion of the gods and the demons in general being arrayed against each other as two opposing hosts. The Brahmanas regularly represent the antagonism thus. Asura is the ordinary name of the aërial foes of the gods. This word has a remarkable history. In the Rigveda it is predominantly a designation of the gods, and in the Avesta it denotes, in the form of Ahura, the highest god of Zoroastrianism. In the later parts of the Rigveda, however, asura, when used by itself, also signifies "demon," and this is its only sense in the Atharva-veda. A somewhat unsuccessful attempt has been made to explain how a word signifying "god" came to mean "devil," as the result of national conflicts, the Asuras or gods of extra-Vedic tribes becoming demons to the Vedic Indian, just as the devas or gods of the Veda are demons in the Avesta. There is no traditional evidence in support of this view, and it is opposed by the fact that to the Rigvedic Indian asura not only in general meant a divine being, but was especially appropriate to Varuna, the most exalted of the gods. The word must therefore have changed its meaning in course of time within the Veda itself. Here it seems from the beginning to have had the sense of "possessor of occult power," and hence to have been potentially applicable to hostile beings. Thus in one hymn of the Rigveda (x. 124) both senses seem to occur. Towards the end of the Rigvedic period the application of the word to the gods began to fall into abeyance. This tendency was in all likelihood accelerated by the need of a word denoting the hostile demoniac powers generally, as well as by an incipient popular etymology, which saw a negative (a-sura) in the word and led to the invention of sura, "god," a term first found in the Upanishads. A group of aërial demons, primarily foes of Indra, are the Panis. The proper meaning of the word is "niggard," especially in regard to sacrificial gifts. From this signification it developed the mythological sense of demons resembling those originally conceived as withholding the treasures of heaven. The term dasa or dasyu, properly the designation of the dark aborigines of India contrasted with their fair Aryan conquerors, is frequently used in the sense of demons or fiends. By far the most conspicuous of the individual aërial demons of the Rigveda, is Vritra, who has the form of a serpent, and whose name means "encompasser." Another demon mentioned with some frequency is Vala, the personification of the mythical cave in which the celestial cows are confined. In post-Vedic literature these two demons are frequently mentioned together and are regarded as brothers slain by Indra. The most often named among the remaining adversaries of Indra is Çushna, the "hisser" or "scorcher." A rarely-mentioned demon is Svarbhanu, who is described as eclipsing the sun with darkness. His successor in Sanskrit literature was Rahu, regarded as causing eclipses by swallowing the sun or moon. The second class of demons consists of goblins supposed to infest the earth, enemies of mankind as the Asuras are of the gods. By far the most common generic name for this class is Rakshas. They are hardly ever mentioned except in connection with some god who is invoked to destroy or is praised for having destroyed them. These goblins are conceived as having the shapes of various animals as well as of men. Their appearance is more fully described by the Atharvaveda, in which they are also spoken of as deformed or as being blue, yellow, or green in colour. According to the Rigveda they are fond of the flesh of men and horses, whom they attack by entering into them in order to satisfy their greed. They are supposed to prowl about at night and to make the sacrifice the special object of their attacks. The belief that the Rakshases actively interfere with the performance of sacrificial rites remains familiar in the post-Vedic period. A species of goblin scarcely referred to in the Rigveda, but often mentioned in the later Vedas, are the Piçachas, described as devouring corpses and closely connected with the dead. Few references to death and the future life are to be found in the hymns of the Rigveda, as the optimistic and active Vedic Indian, unlike his descendants in later centuries, seems to have given little thought to the other world. Most of the information to be gained about their views of the next life are to be found in the funeral hymns of the last book. The belief here expressed is that fire or the grave destroys the body only, while the real personality of the deceased is imperishable. The soul is thought to be separable from the body, not only after death, but even during unconsciousness (x. 58). There is no indication here, or even in the later Vedas, of the doctrine of the transmigration of souls, though it was already firmly established in the sixth century B.C. when Buddhism arose. One passage of the Rigveda, however, in which the soul is spoken of as departing to the waters or the plants, may contain the germs of the theory. CHAPTER V PHILOSOPHY OF THE RIGVEDA According to the Vedic view, the spirit of the deceased proceeded to the realm of eternal light on the path trodden by the fathers, whom he finds in the highest heaven revelling with Yama, king of the dead, and feasting with the gods. In one of the funeral hymns (x. 14, 7) the dead man is thus addressed:-- Go forth, go forth along those ancient pathways To where our early ancestors departed. There thou shalt see rejoicing in libations The two kings, Varuna the god and Yama. Here a tree spreads its branches, in the shade of which Yama drinks soma with the gods, and the sound of the flute and of songs is heard. The life in heaven is free from imperfections or bodily frailties, and is altogether delectable. It is a glorified life of material joys as conceived by the imagination, not of warriors, but of priests. Heaven is gained as a reward by heroes who risk their lives in battle, but above all by those who bestow liberal sacrificial gifts on priests. Though the Atharva-veda undoubtedly shows a belief in a place of future punishment, the utmost that can be inferred with regard to the Rigveda from the scanty evidence we possess, is the notion that unbelievers were consigned to an underground darkness after death. So little, indeed, do the Rishis say on this subject, and so vague is the little they do say, that Roth held the total annihilation of the wicked by death to be their belief. The early Indian notions about future punishment gradually developed, till, in the post-Vedic period, a complicated system of hells had been elaborated. Some passages of the Rigveda distinguish the path of the fathers or dead ancestors from the path of the gods, doubtless because cremation appeared as a different process from sacrifice. In the Brahmanas the fathers and the gods are thought to dwell in distinct abodes, for the "heavenly world" is contrasted with the "world of the fathers." The chief of the blessed dead is Yama, to whom three entire hymns are addressed. He is spoken of as a king who rules the departed and as a gatherer of the people, who gives the deceased a resting-place and prepares an abode for him. Yama it was who first discovered the way to the other world:-- Him who along the mighty heights departed, Him who searched and spied out the path for many, Son of Vivasvat, gatherer of the people, Yama the king, with sacrifices worship. (x. 14, 1). Though death is the path of Yama, and he must consequently have been regarded with a certain amount of fear, he is not yet in the Rigveda, as in the Atharvaveda and the later mythology, a god of death. The owl and pigeon are occasionally mentioned as emissaries of Yama, but his regular messengers are two dogs which guard the path trodden by the dead proceeding to the other world. With reference to them the deceased man is thus addressed in one of the funeral hymns (x. 14):-- Run on thy path straight forward past the two dogs, The sons of Sarama, four-eyed and brindled, Draw near thereafter to the bounteous fathers, Who revel on in company with Yama. Broad-nosed and brown, the messengers of Yama, Greedy of lives, wander among the people: May they give back to us a life auspicious Here and to-day, that we may see the sunlight. The name of Yama is sometimes used in the Rigveda in its primary sense of "twin," and the chief of the dead actually occurs in this character throughout a hymn (x. 10) of much poetic beauty, consisting of a dialogue between him and his sister Yami. She endeavours to win his love, but he repels her advances with these words:-- The spies sent by the gods here ever wander, They stand not still, nor close their eyes in slumber: Another man thine arms shall clasp, O Yami, Tightly as twines around the tree the creeper. The incestuous union which forms the main theme of the poem, though rejected as contrary to the higher ethical standard of the Rigveda, was doubtless the survival of an already existing myth of the descent of mankind from primeval "twins." This myth, indeed, seems to have been handed down from the Indo-Iranian period, for the later Avestan literature makes mention of Yimeh as a sister of Yima. Even the name of Yama's father goes back to that period, for Yima is the son of Vivanhvant in the Avesta as Yama is of Vivasvat in the Rigveda. The great bulk of the Rigvedic poems comprises invocations of gods or deified objects as described in the foregoing pages. Scattered among them are to be found, chiefly in the tenth book, about a dozen mythological pieces consisting of dialogues which, in a vague and fragmentary way, indicate the course of the action and refer to past events. In all likelihood they were originally accompanied by a narrative setting in prose, which explained the situation more fully to the audience, but was lost after these poems were incorporated among the collected hymns of the Rigveda. One of this class (iv. 42) is a colloquy between Indra and Varuna, in which each of these leading gods puts forward his claims to pre-eminence. Another, which shows considerable poetic merit and presents the situation clearly, is a dialogue in alternate verses between Varuna and Agni (x. 51), followed by a second (x. 52) between the gods and Agni, who has grown weary of his sacrificial office, but finally agrees to continue the performance of his duties. A curious but prosaic and obscure hymn (x. 86), consists of a dialogue between Indra and his wife Indrani on the subject of a monkey which has incurred the anger of the latter. The circumstances are much more clearly presented in a poem of great beauty (x. 108), in which Sarama, the messenger of Indra, having tracked the stolen cows, demands them back from the Panis. Another already referred to (p. 107) treats the myth of Urvaçi and Pururavas. The dialogue takes place at the moment when the nymph is about to quit her mortal lover for ever. A good deal of interest attaches to this myth, not only as the oldest Indo-European love-story, but as one which has had a long history in Indian literature. The dialogue of Yama and Yami (x. 10) is, as we have seen, based on a still older myth. These mythological ballads, if I may use the expression, foreshadow the dramatic and epic poetry of a later age. A very small number, hardly more than thirty altogether, of the hymns of the Rigveda are not addressed to the gods or deified objects. About a dozen poems, occurring almost exclusively in the tenth book, are concerned with magical notions, and therefore belong rather to the domain of the Atharva-veda, Two short ones (ii. 42-43) belong to the sphere of augury, certain birds of omen being invoked to utter auspicious cries. Two others consist of spells directed against poisonous vermin (i. 191), and the disease called yakshma (x. 163). Two are incantations to preserve the life of one lying at the point of death (x. 58; 60, 7-12). A couple of stanzas from one of the latter may serve as a specimen:-- Just as a yoke with leathern thong They fasten on that it may hold: So have I now held fast thy soul, That thou mayst live and mayst not die, Anon to be unhurt and well. Downward is blown the blast of wind, Downward the burning sunbeams shoot, Adown the milk streams from the cow: So downward may thy ailment go. Here is a stanza from a poem intended as a charm to induce slumber (v. 55):-- The man who sits and he who walks, And he who sees us with his gaze: Of these we now close up the eyes, Just as we shut this dwelling-house. The first three stanzas of this lullaby end with the refrain, "Fall fast asleep" (ni shu shvapa). The purpose of one incantation (x. 183) is to procure children, while another (x. 162) is directed against the demon that destroys offspring. There is also a spell (x. 166) aiming at the destruction of enemies. We further find the incantation (x. 145) of a woman desiring to oust her rival wives from the affections of her husband. A sequel to it is formed by the song of triumph (x. 159) of one who has succeeded in this object:-- Up has arisen there the sun, So too my fortunes now arise: With craft victorious I have gained Over my lord this victory. My sons now mighty warriors are, My daughter is a princess now, And I myself have gained the day: My name stands highest with my lord. Vanquished have I these rival wives, Rising superior to them all, That over this heroic man And all this people I may rule. With regard to a late hymn (vii. 103), which is entirely secular in style, there is some doubt as to its original purpose. The awakening of the frogs at the beginning of the rainy season is here described with a graphic power which will doubtless be appreciated best by those who have lived in India. The poet compares the din of their croaking with the chants of priests exhilarated by soma, and with the clamour of pupils at school repeating the words of their teacher:-- Resting in silence for a year, As Brahmans practising a vow, The frogs have lifted up their voice, Excited when Parjanya comes. When one repeats the utterance of the other Like those who learn the lesson of their teacher, Then every limb of yours seems to be swelling, As eloquent ye prate upon the waters. As Brahmans at the mighty soma offering Sit round the large and brimming vessel talking, So throng ye round the pool to hallow This day of all the year that brings the rain-time. These Brahmans with their soma raise their voices, Performing punctually their yearly worship; And these Adhvaryus, sweating with their kettles, These priests come forth to view, and none are hidden. The twelvemonth's god-sent order they have guarded, And never do these men neglect the season. When in the year the rainy time commences, Those who were heated kettles gain deliverance. This poem has usually been interpreted as a satire upon the Brahmans. If such be indeed its purport, we find it difficult to conceive how it could have gained admittance into a collection like the Rigveda, which, if not entirely composed, was certainly edited, by priests. The Brahmans cannot have been ignorant of the real significance of the poem. On the other hand, the comparison of frogs with Brahmans would not necessarily imply satire to the Vedic Indian. Students familiar with the style of the Rigveda know that many similes which, if used by ourselves, would involve contempt or ridicule, were employed by the ancient Indian poets only for the sake of graphic effect. As the frogs are in the last stanza besought to grant wealth and length of days, it is much more likely that we have here a panegyric of frogs believed to have the magical power of bringing rain. There remain about twenty poems the subject-matter of which is of a more or less secular character. They deal with social customs, the liberality of patrons, ethical questions, riddles, and cosmogonic speculations. Several of them are of high importance for the history of Indian thought and civilisation. As social usages have always been dominated by religion in India, it is natural that the poems dealing with them should have a religious and mythological colouring. The most notable poem of this kind is the long wedding-hymn (x. 85) of forty-seven stanzas. Lacking in poetic unity, it consists of groups of verses relating to the marriage ceremonial loosely strung together. The opening stanzas (1-5), in which the identity of the celestial soma and of the moon is expressed in veiled terms, are followed by others (6-17) relating the myth of the wedding of Soma the moon with the sun-maiden Surya. The Açvins, elsewhere her spouses, here appear in the inferior capacity of groomsmen, who, on behalf of Soma, sue for the hand of Surya from her father, the sun-god. Savitri consents, and sends his daughter, a willing bride, to her husband's house on a two-wheeled car made of the wood of the çalmali or silk-cotton tree, decked with red kimçuka flowers, and drawn by two white bulls. Then sun and moon, the prototype of human marriage, are described as an inseparable pair (18-19):-- They move alternately with mystic power; Like children playing they go round the sacrifice: One of the two surveys all living beings, The other, seasons meting out, is born again. Ever anew, being born again, he rises, He goes in front of dawns as daylight's token. He, coming, to the gods their share apportions: The moon extends the length of man's existence. Blessings are then invoked on the wedding procession, and a wish expressed that the newly-married couple may have many children and enjoy prosperity, long life, and freedom from disease (20-33). The next two stanzas (34-35), containing some obscure references to the bridal garments, are followed by six others (36-41) pronounced at the wedding rite, which is again brought into connection with the marriage of Surya. The bridegroom here thus addresses the bride:-- I grasp thy hand that I may gain good fortune, That thou may'st reach old age with me thy husband. Bhaga, Aryaman, Savitri, Puramdhi, The gods have given thee to share my household. The god of fire is at the same time invoked:-- To thee, O Agni, first they led Bright Surya with the bridal throng: So in thy turn to husbands give A wife along with progeny. The concluding verses (42-47) are benedictions pronounced on the newly-wedded couple after the bride has arrived at her future home:-- Here abide; be not divided; Complete life's whole allotted span, Playing with your sons and grandsons, Rejoicing in your own abode. The last stanza of all is spoken by the bridegroom:-- May all the gods us two unite, May Waters now our hearts entwine; May Matariçvan and Dhatri, May Deshtri us together join. There are five hymns, all in the last book (x. 14-18), which are more or less concerned with funeral rites. All but one of them, however, consist chiefly of invocations of gods connected with the future life. The first (14) is addressed to Yama, the next to the Fathers, the third to Agni, and the fourth to Pushan, as well as Sarasvati. Only the last (18) is a funeral hymn in the true sense. It is secular in style as well as in matter, being almost free from references to any of the gods. Grave and elevated in tone, it is distinguished by great beauty of language. It also yields more information about the funeral usages of those early days than any of the rest. From this group of hymns it appears that burial was practised as well as cremation by the Vedic Indians. The composer of a hymn addressed to Varuna in Book VII. also mentions "the house of clay" in connection with death. Cremation was, however, the usual manner of disposing of the dead, and the later Vedic ritual practically knew this method alone, sanctioning only the burial of ascetics and children under two years of age. With the rite of cremation, too, the mythological notions about the future life were specially connected. Thus Agni conducts the corpse to the other world, where the gods and Fathers dwell. A goat was sacrificed when the corpse was burned, and this goat, according to the Atharva-veda (ix. 5, 1 and 3), preceded and announced the deceased to the fathers, just as in the Rigveda the goat immolated with the sacrificial horse goes before to announce the offering to the gods (i. 162-163). In the later Vedic ritual a goat or cow was sacrificed as the body was cremated. In conformity with a custom of remotest antiquity still surviving in India, the dead man was provided with ornaments and clothing for use in the future life. The fact that in the funeral obsequies of the Rigveda the widow lies down beside the body of her deceased husband and his bow is removed from the dead man's hand, shows that both were in earlier times burnt with his body to accompany him to the next world, and a verse of the Atharva-veda calls the dying of the widow with her husband an old custom. The evidence of anthropology shows that this was a very primitive practice widely prevailing at the funerals of military chiefs, and it can be proved to go back to the Indo-European age. The following stanza (8) from the last funeral hymn (x. 18) is addressed to the widow, who is called upon to rise from the pyre and take the hand of her new husband, doubtless a brother of the deceased, in accordance with an ancient marriage custom:-- Rise up; come to the world of life; O woman; Thou liest here by one whose soul has left him. Come: thou hast now entered upon the wifehood Of this thy lord who takes thy hand and woos thee. The speaker then, turning to the deceased man, exclaims:-- From the dead hand I take the bow he wielded, To gain for us dominion, might, and glory. Thou there, we here, rich in heroic offspring, Will vanquish all assaults of every foeman. Approach the bosom of the earth, the mother, This earth extending far and most propitious: Young, soft as wool to bounteous givers, may she Preserve thee from the lap of dissolution. Open wide, O earth, press not heavily on him, Be easy of approach, hail him with kindly aid; As with a robe a mother hides Her son, so shroud this man, O earth. Referring to the bystanders he continues:-- These living ones are from the dead divided: Our calling on the gods is now auspicious. We have come forth prepared for dance and laughter, Till future days prolonging our existence. As days in order follow one another, As seasons duly alternate with seasons; As the later never forsakes the earlier, So fashion thou the lives of these, Ordainer. A few of the secular poems contain various historical references. These are the so-called Danastutis or "Praises of Gifts," panegyrics commemorating the liberality of princes towards the priestly singers employed by them. They possess little poetic merit, and are of late date, occurring chiefly in the first and tenth books, or among the Valakhilya (supplementary) hymns of the eighth. A number of encomia of this type, generally consisting of only two or three stanzas, are appended to ordinary hymns in the eighth book and, much less commonly, in most of the other books. Chiefly concerned in describing the kind and the amount of the gifts bestowed on them, the composers of these panegyrics incidentally furnish historical data about the families and genealogies of themselves and their patrons, as well as about the names and homes of the Vedic tribes. The amount of the presents bestowed--for instance, 60,000 cows--is sometimes enormously exaggerated. We may, however, safely conclude that it was often considerable, and that the Vedic chiefs possessed very large herds of cattle. Four of the secular poems are didactic in character. One of these (x. 34), "The Lament of the Gambler," strikes a pathetic note. Considering that it is the oldest composition of the kind in existence, we cannot but regard this poem as a most remarkable literary product. The gambler deplores his inability to throw off the spell of the dice, though he sees the ruin they are bringing on him and his household:-- Downward they fall, then nimbly leaping upward, They overpower the man with hands, though handless. Cast on the board like magic bits of charcoal, Though cold themselves, they burn the heart to ashes. It pains the gambler when he sees a woman, Another's wife, and their well-ordered household: He yokes these brown steeds early in the morning, And, when the fire is low, sinks down an outcast. "Play not with dice, but cultivate thy cornfield; Rejoice in thy goods, deeming them abundant: There are thy cows, there is thy wife, O gambler." This counsel Savitri the kindly gives me. We learn here that the dice (aksha) were made of the nut of the Vibhidaka tree (Terminalia bellerica), which is still used for the purpose in India. The other three poems of this group may be regarded as the forerunners of the sententious poetry which flourished so luxuriantly in Sanskrit literature. One of them, consisting only of four stanzas (ix. 112), describes in a moralising strain of mild humour how men follow after gain in various ways:-- The thoughts of men are manifold, Their callings are of diverse kinds: The carpenter desires a rift, The leech a fracture wants to cure. A poet I; my dad's a leech; Mama the upper millstone grinds: With various minds we strive for wealth, As ever seeking after kine. Another of these poems (x. 117) consists of a collection of maxims inculcating the duty of well-doing and charity:-- Who has the power should give unto the needy, Regarding well the course of life hereafter: Fortune, like two chariot wheels revolving, Now to one man comes nigh, now to another. Ploughing the soil, the share produces nurture; He who bestirs his feet performs his journey; A priest who speaks earns more than one who's silent; A friend who gives is better than the niggard. The fourth of these poems (x. 71) is composed in praise of wise speech. Here are four of its eleven stanzas:-- Where clever men their words with wisdom utter, And sift them as with flail the corn is winnowed, There friends may recognise each other's friendship: A goodly stamp is on their speech imprinted. Whoever his congenial friend abandons, In that man's speech there is not any blessing. For what he hears he hears without advantage: He has no knowledge of the path of virtue. When Brahman friends unite to offer worship, In hymns by the heart's impulse swiftly fashioned, Then not a few are left behind in wisdom, While others win their way as gifted Brahmans. The one sits putting forth rich bloom of verses, Another sings a song in skilful numbers, A third as teacher states the laws of being, A fourth metes out the sacrifice's measure. Even in the ordinary hymns are to be found a few moralising remarks of a cynical nature about wealth and women, such as frequently occur in the ethical literature of the post-Vedic age. Thus one poet exclaims: "How many a maiden is an object of affection to her wooer for the sake of her admirable wealth!" (x. 27, 12); while another addresses the kine he desires with the words: "Ye cows make even the lean man fat, even the ugly man ye make of goodly countenance" (vi. 28, 6). A third observes: "Indra himself said this, 'The mind of woman is hard to instruct, and her intelligence is small'" (viii. 33, 17); and a fourth complains: "There are no friendships with women; their hearts are those of hyenas" (x. 95, 15). One, however, admits that "many a woman is better than the godless and niggardly man" (v. 61, 6). Allied to the didactic poems are the riddles, of which there are at least two collections in the Rigveda. In their simplest form they are found in a poem (29) of the eighth book. In each of its ten stanzas a different deity is described by his characteristic marks, but without being mentioned, the hearer being left to guess his name. Vishnu, for instance, is thus alluded to:-- Another with his mighty stride has made three steps To where the gods rejoice in bliss. A far more difficult collection, consisting of fifty-two stanzas, occurs in the first book (164). Nothing here is directly described, the language being always symbolical and mystical. The allusions in several cases are so obscurely expressed that it is now impossible to divine the meaning. Sometimes the riddle is put in the form of a question, and in one case the answer itself is also given. Occasionally the poet propounds a riddle of which he himself evidently does not know the solution. In general these problems are stated as enigmas. The subject of about one-fourth of them is the sun. Six or seven deal with clouds, lightning, and the production of rain; three or four with Agni and his various forms; about the same number with the year and its divisions; two with the origin of the world and the One Being. The dawn, heaven and earth, the metres, speech, and some other subjects which can hardly even be conjectured, are dealt with in one or two stanzas respectively. One of the more clearly expressed of these enigmas is the following, which treats of the wheel of the year with its twelve months and three hundred and sixty days:-- Provided with twelve spokes and undecaying, The wheel of order rolls around the heavens; Within it stand, O Agni, joined in couples, Together seven hundred sons and twenty. The thirteenth or intercalary month, contrasted with the twelve others conceived as pairs, is thus darkly alluded to: "Of the co-born they call the seventh single-born; sages call the six twin pairs god-born." The latter expression probably alludes to the intercalary month being an artificial creation of man. In the later Vedic age it became a practice to propound such enigmas, called "theological problems" (brahmodya), in contests for intellectual pre-eminence when kings instituted great sacrifices or Brahmans were otherwise assembled together. Closely allied to these poetical riddles is the philosophical poetry contained in the six or seven cosmogonic hymns of the Rigveda. The question of the origin of the world here treated is of course largely mixed with mythological and theological notions. Though betraying much confusion of ideas, these early speculations are of great interest as the sources from which flow various streams of later thought. Most of these hymns handle the subject of the origin of the world in a theological, and only one in a purely philosophical spirit. In the view of the older Rishis, the gods in general, or various individual deities, "generated" the world. This view conflicts with the frequently expressed notion that heaven and earth are the parents of the gods. The poets thus involve themselves in the paradox that the children produce their own parents. Indra, for instance, is described in so many words as having begotten his father and mother from his own body (x. 54, 3). This conceit evidently pleased the fancy of a priesthood becoming more and more addicted to far-fetched speculations; for in the cosmogonic hymns we find reciprocal generation more than once introduced in the stages of creation. Thus Daksha is said to have sprung from Aditi, and Aditi from Daksha (x. 72, 4). The evolution of religious thought in the Rigveda led to the conception of a creator distinct from any of the chief deities and superior to all the gods. He appears under the various names of Purusha, Viçvakarman, Hiranyagarbha, or Prajapati in the cosmogonic hymns. Whereas creation, according to the earlier view, is regularly referred to as an act of natural generation with some form of the verb jan, "to beget," these cosmogonic poems speak of it as the manufacture or evolution from some original material. In one of them (x. 90), the well-known Hymn of Man (purusha-sukta), the gods are still the agents, but the material out of which the world is made consists of the body of a primeval giant, Purusha (man), who being thousand-headed and thousand-footed, extends even beyond the earth, as he covers it. The fundamental idea of the world being created from the body of a giant is, indeed, very ancient, being met with in several primitive mythologies. But the manner in which the idea is here worked out is sufficiently late. Quite in the spirit of the Brahmanas, where Vishnu is identified with the sacrifice, the act of creation is treated as a sacrificial rite, the original man being conceived as a victim, the parts of which when cut up become portions of the universe. His head, we are told, became the sky, his navel the air, his feet the earth, while from his mind sprang the moon, from his eye the sun, from his breath the wind. "Thus they (the gods) fashioned the worlds." Another sign of the lateness of the hymn is its pantheistic colouring; for it is here said that "Purusha is all this world, what has been and shall be," and "one-fourth of him is all creatures, and three-fourths are the world of the immortals in heaven." In the Brahmanas, Purusha is the same as the creator, Prajapati, and in the Upanishads he is identified with the universe. Still later, in the dualistic Sankhya philosophy, Purusha becomes the name of "soul" as opposed to "matter." In the Hymn of Man a being called Viraj is mentioned as produced from Purusha. This in the later Vedanta philosophy is a name of the personal creator as contrasted with Brahma, the universal soul. The Purusha hymn, then, may be regarded as the oldest product of the pantheistic literature of India. It is at the same time one of the very latest poems of the Rigvedic age; for it presupposes a knowledge of the three oldest Vedas, to which it refers together by name. It also for the first and only time in the Rigveda mentions the four castes; for it is here said that Purusha's mouth became the Brahman, his arms the Rajanya (warrior), his thighs the Vaiçya (agriculturist), and his feet the Çudra (serf). In nearly all the other poems dealing with the origin of the world, not the gods collectively but an individual creator is the actor. Various passages in other hymns show that the sun was regarded as an important agent of generation by the Rishis. Thus he is described as "the soul of all that moves and stands" (i. 115, 1), and is said to be "called by many names though one" (i. 164, 46). Such statements indicate that the sun was in process of being abstracted to the character of a creator. This is probably the origin of Viçvakarman, "the all-creating," to whom two cosmogonic hymns (x. 81-82) are addressed. Three of the seven stanzas of the first deserve to be quoted:-- What was the place on which he gained a footing? Where found he anything, or how, to hold by, What time, the earth creating, Viçvakarman, All-seeing, with his might disclosed the heavens? Who has his eyes and mouth in every quarter, Whose arms and feet are turned in all directions, The one god, when the earth and heaven creating, With his two arms and wings together welds them. What was the wood, and what the tree, pray tell us, From which they fashioned forth the earth and heaven? Ye sages, in your mind, pray make inquiry, Whereon he stood, when he the worlds supported? It is an interesting coincidence that "wood," the term here used, was regularly employed in Greek philosophy to express "original matter" (hule). In the next hymn (x. 82), the theory is advanced that the waters produced the first germ of things, the source of the universe and the gods. Who is our father, parent, and disposer, Who knows all habitations and all beings, Who only to the gods their names apportions: To him all other beings turn inquiring? What germ primeval did the waters cherish, Wherein the gods all saw themselves together, Which is beyond the earth, beyond that heaven, Beyond the mighty gods' mysterious dwelling? That germ primeval did the waters cherish, Wherein the gods together all assembled, The One that in the goat's [5] source is established, Within which all the worlds are comprehended. Ye cannot find him who these worlds created: That which comes nearer to you is another. In a cosmogonic poem (x. 121) of considerable beauty the creator further appears under the name of Hiranyagarbha, "germ of gold," a notion doubtless suggested by the rising sun. Here, too, the waters are, in producing Agni, regarded as bearing the germ of all life. The Germ of Gold at first came into being, Produced as the one lord of all existence. The earth he has supported and this heaven: What god shall we with sacrifices worship? Who gives the breath of life and vital power, To whose commands the gods all render homage, Whose shade is death and life immortal: What god shall we with sacrifices worship? What time the mighty waters came containing All germs of life and generating Agni, Then was produced the gods' one vital spirit: What god shall we with sacrifices worship? Who with his mighty power surveyed the waters That intellect and sacrifice engendered, The one god over all the gods exalted: What god shall we with sacrifices worship? The refrain receives its answer in a tenth stanza (added to the poem at a later time), which proclaims the unknown god to be Prajapati. Two other cosmogonic poems explain the origin of the world philosophically as the evolution of the existent (sat) from the non-existent (asat). In the somewhat confused account given in one of them (x. 72), three stages of creation may be distinguished: first the world is produced, then the gods, and lastly the sun. The theory of evolution is here still combined with that of creation:-- Even as a smith, the Lord of Prayer, Together forged this universe: In earliest ages of the gods From what was not arose what is. A far finer composition than this is the Song of Creation (x. 129):-- Non-being then existed not, nor being: There was no air, nor heaven which is beyond it. What motion was there? Where? By whom directed? Was water there, and fathomless abysses? Death then existed not, nor life immortal; Of neither night nor day was any semblance. The One breathed calm and windless by self-impulse: There was not any other thing beyond it. Darkness at first was covered up by darkness; This universe was indistinct and fluid. The empty space that by the void was hidden. That One was by the force of heat engendered. Desire then at the first arose within it, Desire, which was the earliest seed of spirit. The bond of being in non-being sages Discovered searching in their hearts with wisdom. Who knows it truly? who can here declare it? Whence was it born? whence issued this creation? And did the gods appear with its production? But then who knows from whence it has arisen? This world-creation, whence it has arisen. Or whether it has been produced or has not. He who surveys it in the highest heaven, He only knows, or ev'n he does not know it. Apart from its high literary merit, this poem is most noteworthy for the daring speculations which find utterance in so remote an age. But even here may be traced some of the main defects of Indian philosophy--lack of clearness and consistency, with a tendency to make reasoning depend on mere words. Being the only piece of sustained speculation in the Rigveda, it is the starting-point of the natural philosophy which assumed shape in the evolutionary Sankhya system. It will, moreover, always retain a general interest as the earliest specimen of Aryan philosophic thought. With the theory of the Song of Creation, that after the non-existent had developed into the existent, water came first, and then intelligence was evolved from it by heat, the cosmogonic accounts of the Brahmanas substantially agree. Here, too, the non-existent becomes the existent, of which the first form is the waters. On these floats Hiranyagarbha, the cosmic golden egg, whence is produced the spirit that desires and creates the universe. Always requiring the agency of the creator Prajapati at an earlier or a later stage, the Brahmanas in some of their accounts place him first, in others the waters. This fundamental contradiction, due to mixing up the theory of creation with that of evolution, is removed in the Sankhya system by causing Purusha, or soul, to play the part of a passive spectator, while Prakriti, or primordial matter, undergoes successive stages of development. The cosmogonic hymns of the Rigveda are not only thus the precursors of Indian philosophy, but also of the Puranas, one of the main objects of which is to describe the origin of the world. CHAPTER VI THE RIGVEDIC AGE The survey of the poetry of the Rigveda presented in the foregoing pages will perhaps suffice to show that this unique monument of a long-vanished age contains, apart from its historical interest, much of æsthetic value, and well deserves to be read, at least in selections, by every lover of literature. The completeness of the picture it supplies of early religious thought has no parallel. Moreover, though its purely secular poems are so few, the incidental references contained in the whole collection are sufficiently numerous to afford material for a tolerably detailed description of the social condition of the earliest Aryans in India. Here, then, we have an additional reason for attaching great importance to the Rigveda in the history of civilisation. In the first place, the home of the Vedic tribes is revealed to us by the geographical data which the hymns yield. From these we may conclude with certainty that the Aryan invaders, after having descended into the plains, in all probability through the western passes of the Hindu Kush, had already occupied the north-western corner of India which is now called by the Persian name of Panjab, or "Land of Five Rivers." [6] Mention is made in the hymns of some twenty-five streams, all but two or three of which belong to the Indus river system. Among them are the five which water the territory of the Panjab, and, after uniting in a single stream, flow into the Indus. They are the Vitasta (now Jhelum), the Asikni (Chenab), the Parushni (later called Iravati, "the refreshing," whence its present name, Ravi), the Vipaç (Beäs), and the largest and most easterly, the Çutudri (Sutlej). Some of the Vedic tribes, however, still remained on the farther side of the Indus, occupying the valleys of its western tributaries, from the Kubha (Kabul), with its main affluent to the north, the Suvastu, river "of fair dwellings" (now Swat), to the Krumu (Kurum) and Gomati, "abounding in cows" (now Gomal), farther south. Few of the rivers of the Rigveda are mentioned more than two or three times in the hymns, and several of them not more than once. The only names of frequent occurrence are those of the Indus and the Sarasvati. One entire hymn (x. 75) is devoted to its laudation, but eighteen other streams, mostly its tributaries, share its praises in two stanzas. The mighty river seems to have made a deep impression on the mind of the poet. He speaks of her as the swiftest of the swift, surpassing all other streams in volume of water. Other rivers flow to her as lowing cows hasten to their calf. The roar and rush of her waters are described in enthusiastic strains:-- From earth the sullen roar swells upward to the sky, With brilliant spray she dashes up unending surge; As when the streams of rain pour thund'ring from the cloud, The Sindhu onward rushes like a bellowing bull. The Sindhu (now Sindh), which in Sanskrit simply means the "river," as the western boundary of the Aryan settlements, suggested to the nations of antiquity which first came into contact with them in that quarter a name for the whole peninsula. Adopted in the form of Indos, the word gave rise to the Greek appellation India as the country of the Indus. It was borrowed by the ancient Persians as Hindu, which is used in the Avesta as a name of the country itself. More accurate is the modern Persian designation Hindustan, "land of the Indus," a name properly applying only to that part of the peninsula which lies between the Himalaya and Vindhya ranges. Mention is often made in the Rigveda of the sapta sindhavah, or "seven rivers," which in one passage at least is synonymous with the country inhabited by the Aryan Indians. It is interesting to note that the same expression hapta hindu occurs in the Avesta, though it is there restricted to mean only that part of the Indian territory which lay in Eastern Kabulistan. If "seven" is here intended for a definite number, the "seven rivers" must originally have meant the Kabul, the Indus, and the five rivers of the Panjab, though later the Sarasvati may have been substituted for the Kabul. For the Sarasvati is the sacred river of the Rigveda, more frequently mentioned, generally as a goddess, and lauded with more fervour than any other stream. The poet's descriptions are often only applicable to a large river. Hence Roth and other distinguished scholars concluded that Sarasvati is generally used by the poets of the Rigveda simply as a sacred designation of the Indus. On the other hand, the name in a few passages undoubtedly means the small river midway between the Sutlej and the Jumna, which at a later period formed, with the Drishadvati, the eastern boundary of the sacred region called Brahmavarta, lying to the south of Ambala, and commencing some sixty miles south of Simla. This small river now loses itself in the sands of the desert, but the evidence of ancient river-beds appears to favour the conclusion that it was originally a tributary of the Çutudri (Sutlej). It is therefore not improbable that in Vedic times it reached the sea, and was considerably larger than it is now. Considering, too, the special sanctity which it had already acquired, the laudations supposed to be compatible only with the magnitude of the Indus may not have seemed too exaggerated when applied to the lesser stream. It is to be noted that the Drishadvati, the "stony" (now Ghogra or Ghugger), in the only passage in which the name occurs in the Rigveda, is associated with the Sarasvati, Agni being invoked to flame on the banks of these rivers. This is perhaps an indication that even in the age of the Rigveda the most easterly limit of the Indus river system had already acquired a certain sanctity as the region in which the sacrificial ritual and the art of sacred poetry were practised in the greatest perfection. There are indications showing that by the end at least of the Rigvedic period some of the Aryan invaders had passed beyond this region and had reached the western limit of the Gangetic river system. For the Yamuna (now Jumna), the most westerly tributary of the Ganges in the north, is mentioned in three passages, two of which prove that the Aryan settlements already extended to its banks. The Ganges itself is already known, for its name is mentioned directly in one passage of the Rigveda and indirectly in another. It is, however, a noteworthy fact that the name of the Ganges is not to be found in any of the other Vedas. The southward migration of the Aryan invaders does not appear to have extended, at the time when the hymns of the Rigveda were composed, much beyond the point where the united waters of the Panjab flow into the Indus. The ocean was probably known only from hearsay, for no mention is made of the numerous mouths of the Indus, and fishing, one of the main occupations on the banks of the Lower Indus at the present day, is quite ignored. The word for fish (matsya), indeed, only occurs once, though various kinds of animals, birds, and insects are so frequently mentioned. This accords with the character of the rivers of the Panjab and Eastern Kabulistan, which are poor in fish, while it contrasts with the intimate knowledge of fishing betrayed by the Yajurveda, which was composed when the Aryans had spread much farther to the east, and, doubtless, also to the south. The word which later is the regular name for "ocean" (sam-udra), seems therefore, in agreement with its etymological sense ("collection of waters"), to mean in the Rigveda only the lower course of the Indus, which, after receiving the waters of the Panjab, is so wide that a boat in mid-stream is invisible from the bank. It has been noted in recent times that the natives in this region speak of the river as the "sea of Sindh;" and indeed the word sindhu ("river") itself in several passages of the Rigveda has practically the sense of "sea." Metaphors such as would be used by a people familiar with the ocean are lacking in the Rigveda. All references to navigation point only to the crossing of rivers in boats impelled by oars, the main object being to reach the other bank (para). This action suggested a favourite figure, which remained familiar throughout Sanskrit literature. Thus one of the poets of the Rigveda invokes Agni with the words, "Take us across all woes and dangers as across the river (sindhu) in a boat;" and in the later literature one who has accomplished his purpose or mastered his subject is very frequently described as "having reached the farther shore" (paraga). The Atharva-veda, on the other hand, contains some passages showing that its composers were acquainted with the ocean. Mountains are constantly mentioned in the Rigveda, and rivers are described as flowing from them. The Himalaya ("abode of snow") range in general is evidently meant by the "snowy" (himavantah) mountains which are in the keeping of the Creator. But no individual peak is mentioned with the exception of Mujavat, which is indirectly referred to as the home of Soma. This peak, it is to be inferred from later Vedic literature, was situated close to the Kabul Valley, and was probably one of the mountains to the south-west of Kashmir. The Atharva-veda also mentions two other mountains of the Himalaya. One of these is called Trikakud, the "three-peaked" (in the later literature Trikuta, and even now Trikota), through the valley at the foot of which flows the Asikni (Chenab). The other is Navaprabhramçana ("sinking of the ship"), doubtless identical with the Naubandhana ("binding of the ship") of the epic and the Manoravasarpana of the Çatapatha Brahmana, on which the ship of Manu is said to have rested when the deluge subsided. The Rigveda knows nothing of the Vindhya range, which divides Northern India from the southern triangle of the peninsula called the Dekhan; [7] nor does it mention the Narmada River (now Nerbudda), which flows immediately south of and parallel to that range. From these data it may safely be concluded that the Aryans, when the hymns of the Rigveda were composed, had overspread that portion of the north-west which appears on the map as a fan-shaped territory, bounded on the west by the Indus, on the east by the Sutlej, and on the north by the Himalaya, with a fringe of settlements extending beyond those limits to the east and the west. Now the Panjab of the present day is a vast arid plain, from which, except in the north-west corner at Rawal Pindi, no mountains are visible, and over which no monsoon storms break. Here there are no grand displays of the strife of the elements, but only gentle showers fall during the rainy season, while the phenomena of dawn are far more gorgeous than elsewhere in the north. There is, therefore, some probability in the contention of Professor Hopkins, that only the older hymns, such as those to Varuna and Ushas, were composed in the Panjab itself, while the rest arose in the sacred region near the Sarasvati, south of the modern Ambala, where all the conditions required by the Rigveda are found. This is more likely than the assumption that the climate of the Panjab has radically changed since the age of the Vedic poets. That the home of the Aryans in the age of the Rigveda was the region indicated is further borne out by the information the poems yield about the products of the country, its flora and fauna. Thus the soma, the most important plant of the Rigveda, is described as growing on the mountains, and must have been easily obtainable, as its juice was used in large quantities for the daily ritual. In the period of the Brahmanas it was brought from long distances, or substitutes had to be used on account of its rarity. Thus the identity of the original plant came to be lost in India. The plant which is now commonly used is evidently quite another, for its juice when drunk produces a nauseating effect, widely different from the feeling of exhilaration dwelt on by the poets of the Rigveda. Nor can the plant which the Parsis still import from Persia for the Haoma rite be identical with the old soma. Again, rice, which is familiar to the later Vedas and regarded in them as one of the necessaries of life, is not mentioned in the Rigveda at all. Its natural habitat is in the south-east, the regular monsoon area, where the rainfall is very abundant. Hence it probably did not exist in the region of the Indus river system when the Rigveda was composed, though, in later times, with the practice of irrigation, its cultivation spread to all parts of India. Corn (yava) was grown by the tillers of the Rigveda, but the term is probably not restricted, as later, to the sense of barley. Among large trees mentioned in the Rigveda, the most important is the Açvattha ("horse-stand") or sacred fig-tree (Ficus religiosa). Its fruit (pippala) is described as sweet and the food of birds. Its sacredness is at least incipient, for its wood was used for soma vessels, and, as we learn from the Atharva-veda, also for the drill (later-called pramantha) employed in producing the sacred fire. The latter Veda further tells us that the gods are seated in the third heaven under an Açvattha, which may indeed have been intended in the Rigveda itself by the "tree with fair foliage," in whose shade the blessed revel with Yama. This tree, now called Peepal, is still considered so sacred that a Hindu would be afraid to utter a falsehood beside it. But the Rigveda does not mention at all, and the Atharva-veda only twice, the tree which is most characteristic of India, and shades with its wide-spreading foliage a larger area than any other tree on the face of the earth--the Nyagrodha ("growing downwards") or banyan (Ficus indica). With its lofty dome of foliage impenetrable to the rays of the sun and supported by many lesser trunks as by columns, this great tree resembles a vast temple of verdure fashioned by the hand of Nature. What the village oak is in England, that and much more is the banyan to the dwellers in the innumerable hamlets which overspread the face of agricultural India. Among wild animals, one of the most familiar to the poets of the Rigveda is the lion (simha). They describe him as living in wooded mountains and as caught with snares, but the characteristic on which they chiefly dwell is his roaring. In the vast desert to the east of the Lower Sutlej and of the Indus, the only part of India suited for its natural habitat, the lion was in ancient times no doubt frequent, but he now survives only in the wooded hills to the south of the peninsula of Gujarat. The king of beasts has, however, remained conventionally familiar in Indian literature, and his old Sanskrit designation is still common in Hindu names in the form of Singh. The tiger is not mentioned in the Rigveda at all, its natural home being the swampy jungles of Bengal, though he is now found in all the jungly parts of India. But in the other Vedas he has decidedly taken the place of the lion, which is, however, still known. His dangerous character as a beast of prey is here often referred to. Thus the White Yajurveda compares a peculiarly hazardous undertaking with waking a sleeping tiger; and the Atharva-veda describes the animal as "man eating" (purushad). The relation of the tiger to the lion in the Vedas therefore furnishes peculiarly interesting evidence of the eastward migration of the Aryans during the Vedic period. Somewhat similar is the position of the elephant. It is explicitly referred to in only two passages of the Rigveda, and the form of the name applied to it, "the beast (mriga) with a hand (hastin)," shows that the Rishis still regarded it as a strange creature. One passage seems to indicate that by the end of the Rigvedic period attempts were made to catch the animal. That the capture of wild elephants had in any case become a regular practice by 300 B.C. is proved by the evidence of Megasthenes. To the Atharva- and the Yajur-vedas the elephant is quite familiar, for it is not only frequently mentioned, but the adjective hastin, "possessing a hand" (i.e. trunk), has become sufficiently distinctive to be used by itself to designate the animal. The regular home of the elephant in Northern India is the Terai or lowland jungle at the foot of the Himalaya, extending eastward from about the longitude of Cawnpore. The wolf (vrika) is mentioned more frequently in the Rigveda than the lion himself, and there are many references to the boar (varaha), which was hunted with dogs. The buffalo (mahisha), in the tame as well as the wild state, was evidently very familiar to the poets, who several times allude to its flesh being cooked and eaten. There is only one reference to the bear (riksha). The monkey (kapi) is only mentioned in a late hymn (x. 86), but in such a way as to show that the animal had already been tamed. The later and ordinary Sanskrit name for monkey, vanara ("forest-animal"), has survived in the modern vernaculars, and is known to readers of Mr. Rudyard Kipling in the form of Bunder-log ("monkey-people"). Among the domestic animals known to the Rigveda those of lesser importance are sheep, goats, asses, and dogs. The latter, it may be gathered, were used for hunting, guarding, and tracking cattle, as well as for keeping watch at night. Cattle, however, occupy the chief place. Cows were the chief form of wealth, and the name of the sacrificial "fee," [8] dakshina, is properly an adjective meaning "right," "valuable," with the ellipse of go, "cow." No sight gladdened the eye of the Vedic Indian more than the cow returning from the pasture and licking her calf fastened by a cord; no sound was more musical to his ear than the lowing of milch kine. To him therefore there was nothing grotesque in the poet exclaiming, "As cows low to their calves near the stalls, so we will praise Indra with our hymns," or "Like unmilked kine we have called aloud (lowed) to thee, O hero (Indra)." For greater security cows were, after returning from pasture, kept in stalls during the night and let out again in the morning. Though the cow-killer is in the White Yajurveda already said to be punishable with death, the Rigveda does not express an absolute prohibition, for the wedding-hymn shows that even the cow was slaughtered on specially solemn occasions, while bulls are several times described as sacrificed to Indra in large numbers. Whilst the cows were out at pasture, bulls and oxen were regularly used for the purpose of ploughing and drawing carts. Horses came next in value to cattle, for wealth in steeds is constantly prayed for along with abundance of cows. To a people so frequently engaged in battle, the horse was of essential value in drawing the war-car; he was also indispensable in the chariot-race, to which the Vedic Indian was devoted. He was, however, not yet used for riding. The horse-sacrifice, moreover, was regarded as the most important and efficacious of animal sacrifices. Of the birds of the Rigveda I need only mention those which have some historical or literary interest. The wild goose or swan (hamsa), so familiar to the classical poets, is frequently referred to, being said to swim in the water and to fly in a line. The curious power of separating soma from water is attributed to it in the White Yajurveda, as that of extracting milk from water is in the later poetry. The latter faculty belongs to the curlew (krunch), according to the same Veda. The chakravaka or ruddy goose, on the fidelity of which the post-Vedic poets so often dwell, is mentioned once in the Rigveda, the Açvins being said to come in the morning like a couple of these birds, while the Atharva-veda already refers to them as models of conjugal love. Peahens (mayuri) are spoken of in the Rigveda as removing poison, and parrots (çuka) are alluded to as yellow. By the time of the Yajurveda the latter bird had been tamed, for it is there described as "uttering human speech." A good illustration of the dangers of the argumentum ex silentio is furnished by the fact that salt, the most necessary of minerals, is never once mentioned in the Rigveda. And yet the Northern Panjab is the very part of India where it most abounds. It occurs in the salt range between the Indus and the Jhelum in such quantities that the Greek companions of Alexander, according to Strabo, asserted the supply to be sufficient for the wants of the whole of India. Among the metals, gold is the one most frequently mentioned in the Rigveda. It was probably for the most part obtained from the rivers of the north-west, which even at the present day are said to yield considerable quantities of the precious metal. Thus the Indus is spoken of by the poets as "golden" or "having a golden bed." There are indications that kings possessed gold in abundance. Thus one poet praises his royal benefactor for bestowing ten nuggets of gold upon him besides other bountiful gifts. Gold ornaments of various kinds, such as ear-rings and armlets, are often mentioned. The metal which is most often referred to in the Rigveda next to gold is called ayas (Latin, aes). It is a matter of no slight historical interest to decide whether this signifies "iron" or not. In most passages where it occurs the word appears to mean simply "metal." In the few cases where it designates a particular metal, the evidence is not very conclusive; but the inference which may be drawn as to its colour is decidedly in favour of its having been reddish, which points to bronze and not iron. The fact that the Atharva-veda distinguishes between "dark" ayas and "red," seems to indicate that the distinction between iron and copper or bronze had only recently been drawn. It is, moreover, well known that in the progress of civilisation the use of bronze always precedes that of iron. Yet it would be rash to assert that iron was altogether unknown even to the earlier Vedic age. It seems quite likely that the Aryans of that period were unacquainted with silver, for its name is not mentioned in the Rigveda, and the knowledge of silver goes hand in hand with that of iron, owing to the manner in which these metals are intermingled in the ore which produces them. These two metals, moreover, are not found in any quantity in the north-west of India. The evidence of the topography, the climate, and the products of the country thus shows that the people by whose poets the Rigveda was composed were settled in the north-west of India, from the Kabul to the Jumna. But they were still engaged in conflict with the aborigines, for many victories over them are referred to. Thus Indra is said to have bound 1000 or slain 30,000 of them for his allies. That the conquerors were bent on acquiring new territory appears from the rivers being frequently mentioned as obstacles to farther advance. The invaders, though split up into many tribes, were conscious of a unity of race and religion. They styled themselves Aryas or "kinsmen," as opposed to the aborigines, to whom they gave the name of Dasyu or Dasa, "fiends," in later times also called anarya, or non-Aryans. The characteristic physical difference between the two races was that of colour (varna), the aborigines being described as "black" (krishna) or "black-skins," and as the "Dasa colour," in contrast with the "Aryan colour" or "our colour." This contrast undoubtedly formed the original basis of caste, the regular name for which in Sanskrit is "colour." Those of the conquered race who did not escape to the hills and were captured became slaves. Thus one singer receives from his royal patron a hundred asses, a hundred sheep, and a hundred Dasas. The latter word in later Sanskrit regularly means servant or slave, much in the same way as "captive Slav" to the German came to mean "slave." When thoroughly subjected, the original inhabitants, ceasing to be called Dasyus, became the fourth caste under the later name of Çudras. The Dasyus are described in the Rigveda as non-sacrificing, unbelieving, and impious. They are also doubtless meant by the phallus-worshippers mentioned in two passages. The Aryans in course of time came to adopt this form of cult. There are several passages in the Mahabharata showing that Çiva was already venerated under the emblem of the phallus when that epic was composed. Phallus-worship is widely diffused in India at the present day, but is most prevalent in the south. The Dasyus appear to have been a pastoral race, for they possessed large herds, which were captured by the victorious Aryans. They fortified themselves in strongholds (called pur), which must have been numerous, as Indra is sometimes said to have destroyed as many as a hundred of them for his allies. The Rigveda mentions many tribes among the Aryans. The most north-westerly of these are the Gandharis, who, judged by the way they are referred to, must have been breeders of sheep. They were later well known as Gandharas or Gandharas. The Atharva-veda mentions as contiguous to the Gandharis the Mujavats, a tribe doubtless settled close to Mount Mujavat; evidently regarding these two as the extreme limit of the Aryan settlements to the north-west. The most important part, if not the whole, of the Indian Aryans is meant by the "five tribes," an expression of frequent occurrence in the Rigveda. It is not improbable that by this term were meant five tribes which are enumerated together in two passages, the Purus, Turvaças, Yadus, Anus, and Druhyus. These are often mentioned as engaged in intertribal conflicts. Four of them, along with some other clans, are named as having formed a coalition under ten kings against Sudas, chief of the Tritsus. The opposing forces met on the banks of the Parushni, where the great "battle of the ten kings" was fought. The coalition, in their endeavours to cross the stream and to deflect its course, were repulsed with heavy loss by the Tritsus. The Purus are described as living on both banks of the Sarasvati. A part of them must, however, have remained behind farther west, as they were found on the Parushni in Alexander's time. The Rigveda often mentions their king, Trasadasyu, son of Purukutsa, and speaks of his descendant Trikshi as a powerful prince. The Turvaças are one of the most frequently named of the tribes. With them are generally associated the Yadus, among whom the priestly family of the Kanvas seems to have lived. It is to be inferred from one passage of the Rigveda that the Anus were settled on the Parushni, and the priestly family of the Bhrigus, it would appear, belonged to them. Their relations to the Druhyus seem to have been particularly close. The Matsyas, mentioned only in one passage of the Rigveda, were also foes of the Tritsus. In the Mahabharata we find them located on the western bank of the Yamuna. A more important name among the enemies of Sudas is that of the Bharatas. One hymn (iii. 33) describes them as coming to the rivers Vipaç and Çutudri accompanied by Viçvamitra, who, as we learn from another hymn (iii. 53), had formerly been the chief priest of Sudas, and who now made the waters fordable for the Bharatas by his prayers. This is probably the occasion on which, according to another hymn (vii. 33), the Bharatas were defeated by Sudas and his Tritsus, who were aided by the invocations of Vasishtha, the successor and rival of Viçvamitra. The Bharatas appear to be specially connected with sacrificial rites in the Rigveda; for Agni receives the epithet Bharata, "belonging to the Bharatas," and the ritual goddess Bharati, frequently associated with Sarasvati, derives her name from them. In a hymn to Agni (iii. 23), mention is made of two Bharatas named Devaçravas and Devavata who kindled the sacred fire on the Drishadvati, the Apaya, and the Sarasvati, the very region which is later celebrated as the holy land of Brahmanism under the names of Brahmavarta and Kurukshetra. The family of the Kuçikas, to whom Viçvamitra belonged, was closely connected with the Bharatas. The Tritsus appear to have been settled somewhere to the east of the Parushni, on the left bank of which Sudas may be supposed to have drawn up his forces to resist the coalition of the ten kings attempting to cross the stream from the west. Five tribes, whose names do not occur later, are mentioned as allied with Sudas in the great battle. The Srinjayas were probably also confederates of the Tritsus, being, like the latter, described as enemies of the Turvaças. Of some tribes we learn nothing from the Rigveda but the name, which, however, survives till later times. Thus the Uçinaras, mentioned only once, were, at the period when the Aitareya Brahmana was composed, located in the middle of Northern India; and the Chedis, also referred to only once, are found in the epic age settled in Magadha (Southern Behar). Krivi, as a tribal name connected with the Indus and Asikni, points to the north-west. In the Çatapatha Brahmana it is stated to be the old name of the Panchalas, who inhabited the country to the north of the modern Delhi. The Atharva-veda mentions as remote tribes not only the Gandharis and Mujavats, but also the Magadhas (Behar) and the Angas (Bengal). We may therefore conclude that by the time that Veda was completed the Aryans had already spread to the Delta of the Ganges. The Panchalas are not mentioned in either Veda, and the name of the Kurus is only found there indirectly in two or three compounds or derivatives. They are first referred to in the White Yajurveda; yet they are the two most prominent peoples of the Brahmana period. On the other hand, the names of a number of the most important of the Rigvedic tribes, such as the Purus, Turvaças, Yadus, Tritsus, and others, have entirely or practically disappeared from the Brahmanas. Even the Bharatas, though held in high regard by the composers of the Brahmanas, and set up by them as models of correct conduct, appear to have ceased to represent a political entity, for there are no longer any references to them in that sense, as to other peoples of the day. Their name, moreover, does not occur in the tribal enumerations of the Aitareya Brahmana and of Manu, while it is practically altogether ignored in the Buddhistic literature. Such being the case, it is natural to suppose that the numerous Vedic tribes, under the altered conditions of life in vast plains, coalesced into nations with new names. Thus the Bharatas, to whom belonged the royal race of the Kurus in the epic, and from whom the very name of the Mahabharata, which describes the great war of the Kurus, is derived, were doubtless absorbed in what came to be called the Kuru nation. In the genealogical system of the Mahabharata the Purus are brought into close connection with the Kurus. This is probably an indication that they too had amalgamated with the latter people. It is not unlikely that the Tritsus, whose name disappears after the Rigveda, also furnished one of the elements of the Kuru nation. As to the Panchalas, we have seen that they represent the old Krivis. It is, however, likely that the latter combined with several small tribes to make up the later nation. A Brahmana passage contains an indication that the Turvaças may have been one of these. Perhaps the Yadus, generally associated with the Turvaças in the Rigveda, were also one of them. The epic still preserves the name, in the patronymic form of Yadava, as that of the race in which Krishna was born. The name of the Panchalas itself (derived from pancha, five) seems to indicate that this people consisted of an aggregate of five elements. Some of the tribes mentioned in the Rigveda, however, maintained their individual identity under their old names down to the epic period. These were the Uçinaras, Srinjayas, Matsyas, and Chedis. It is interesting to note that the Rigveda refers to a rich and powerful prince called Ikshvaku. In the epic this name recurs as that of a mighty king who ruled to the east of the Ganges in the city of Ayodhya (Oudh) and was the founder of the Solar race. It is clear from what has been said that the Vedic Aryans were split up into numerous tribes, which, though conscious of their unity in race, language, and religion, had no political cohesion. They occasionally formed coalitions, it is true, but were just as often at war with one another. The tribe, in fact, was the political unit, organised much in the same way as the Afghans are at the present day, or the Germans were in the time of Tacitus. The tribe (jana) consisted of a number of settlements (viç), which again were formed of an aggregate of villages (grama). The fighting organisation of the tribe appears to have been based on these divisions. The houses forming the village seem to have been built entirely of wood, as they still were in the time of Megasthenes. In the midst of each house the domestic fire burnt. For protection against foes or inundations, fortified enclosures (called pur) were made on eminences. They consisted of earthworks strengthened with a stockade, or occasionally with stone. There is nothing to show that they were inhabited, much less that pur ever meant a town or city, as it did in later times. The basis of Vedic society being the patriarchal family, the government of the tribe was naturally monarchical. The king (raja) was often hereditary. Thus several successive members of the same family are mentioned as rulers of the Tritsus and of the Purus. Occasionally, however, the king was elected by the districts (viç) of the tribe; but whether the choice was then limited to members of the royal race, or was extended to certain noble families, does not appear. In times of peace the main duty of the king was to ensure the protection of his people. In return they rendered him obedience, and supplied him with voluntary gifts--not fixed taxes--for his maintenance. His power was by no means absolute, being limited by the will of the people expressed in the tribal assembly (samiti). As to the constitution and functions of the latter, we have unfortunately little or no information. In war, the king of course held the chief command. On important occasions, such as the eve of a battle, it was also his duty to offer sacrifice on behalf of his tribe, either performing the rites himself, or employing a priest to do so. Every tribe doubtless possessed a family of singers who attended the king, praising his deeds as well as composing hymns to accompany the sacrifice in honour of the gods. Depending on the liberality of their patrons, these poets naturally did not neglect to lay stress on the efficacy of their invocations, and on the importance of rewarding them well for their services. The priest whom a king appointed to officiate for him was called a purohita or domestic chaplain. Vasishtha occupied that position in the employ of King Sudas; and in one of his hymns (vii. 33) he does not fail to point out that the victory of the Tritsus was due to his prayers. The panegyrics on liberal patrons contain manifest exaggerations, partly, no doubt, intended to act as an incentive to other princes. Nevertheless, the gifts in gold, cows, horses, chariots, and garments bestowed by kings on their chief priests must often have been considerable, especially after important victories. Under the later Brahmanic hierarchy liberality to the priestly caste became a duty, while the amount of the sacrificial fee was fixed for each particular rite. The employment of Purohitas by kings as their substitutes in the performance of sacrificial functions is to be regarded as the beginning and the oldest form of the priesthood in India. It became the starting-point of the historically unique hierarchical order in which the sacerdotal caste occupied the supreme position in society, and the State was completely merged in the Church. Such, indeed, was the ideal of the Catholic Church in the West during the Middle Ages, but it never became an accomplished fact in Europe, as it did in India. No sooner had the priesthood become hereditary than the development of a caste system began, which has had no parallel in any other country. But during the period represented by Sudas and Vasishtha, in which the older portion of the Rigveda was composed, the priesthood was not yet hereditary, still less had the warrior and sacerdotal classes became transformed into castes among the Aryan tribes settled in the Panjab. This is confirmed by the fact that in the epic age the inhabitants of Madhyadeça or Mid-land, where the Brahmanic caste system grew up, regarded the people of the north-west as semi-barbarians. In the simple social organisation of the Vedic tribes of this region, where occupations were but little differentiated, every man was a soldier as well a civilian, much as among the Afghans of to-day. As they moved farther to the east, society became more complex, and vocations tended to become hereditary. The population being now spread over wider tracts of territory, the necessity arose for something in the nature of a standing army to repel sudden attacks or quell risings of the subject aborigines. The nucleus would have been supplied by the families of the chiefs of lesser tribes which had amalgamated under some military leader. The agricultural and industrial part of the population were thus left to follow their pursuits without interruption. Meanwhile the religious ceremonial was increasing in complexity; its success was growing more dependent on correct performance, while the preservation of the ancient hymns was becoming more urgent. The priests had, therefore, to devote all their time and energies to the carrying out of their religious duties and the handing down of the sacred tradition in their families. Owing to these causes, the three main classes of Aryan society became more and more separated. But how were they transformed into castes or social strata divided from one another by the impassable barriers of heredity and the prohibition of intermarrying or eating together? This rigid mutual exclusiveness must have started, in the first instance, from the treatment of the conquered aborigines, who, on accepting the Aryan belief, were suffered to form a part of the Aryan polity in the capacity of a servile class. The gulf between the two races need not have been wider than that which at the present day, in the United States, divides the whites from the negroes. When the latter are described as men of "colour," the identical term is used which, in India, came to mean "caste." Having become hereditary, the sacerdotal class succeeded in securing a position of sanctity and inviolability which raised them above the rest of the Aryans as the latter were raised above the Dasas. When their supremacy was established, they proceeded to organise the remaining classes in the state on similar lines of exclusiveness. To the time when the system of the three Aryan castes, with the Çudras added as a fourth, already existed in its fundamental principles, belong the greater part of the independent portions of the Yajurveda, a considerable part of the Atharva-veda (most of books viii. to xiii.), but of the Rigveda, besides the one (x. 90) which distinctly refers to the four castes by name, only a few of the latest hymns of the first, eighth, and tenth books. The word brahmana, the regular name for "man of the first caste," is still rare in the Rigveda, occurring only eight times, while brahman, which simply means sage or officiating priest, is found forty-six times. We may now pass on to sketch rapidly the social conditions which prevailed in the period of the Rigveda. The family, in which such relationships as a wife's brother and a husband's brother or sister had special names, was clearly the foundation of society. The father was at its head as "lord of the house" (grihapati). Permission to marry a daughter was asked from him by the suitor through the mediation of an intimate friend. The wedding was celebrated in the house of the bride's parents, whither the bridegroom, his relatives, and friends came in procession. Here they were entertained with the flesh of cows slain in honour of the occasion. Here, too, the bridegroom took the bride's hand and led her round the nuptial fire. The Atharva-veda adds that he set down a stone on the ground, asking the bride to step upon it for the obtainment of offspring. On the conclusion of the wedding festivities, the bride, anointed and in festal array, mounted with her husband a car adorned with red flowers and drawn by two white bulls. On this she was conducted in procession to her new home. The main features of this nuptial ceremony of 3000 years ago still survive in India. Though the wife, like the children, was subject to the will of her husband, she occupied a position of greater honour in the age of the Rigveda than in that of the Brahmanas, for she participated with her husband in the offering of sacrifice. She was mistress of the house (grihapatni), sharing the control not only of servants and slaves, but also of the unmarried brothers and sisters of her husband. From the Yajurveda we learn that it was customary for sons and daughters to marry in the order of their age, but the Rigveda more than once speaks of girls who remained unmarried and grew old in their father's house. As the family could only be continued in the male line, abundance of sons is constantly prayed for, along with wealth in cattle and land, and the newly wedded husband hopes that his bride may become a mother of heroes. Lack of sons was placed on the same level as poverty, and adoption was regarded as a mere makeshift. No desire for the birth of daughters is ever expressed in the Rigveda; their birth is deprecated in the Atharva-veda, and the Yajurveda speaks of girls being exposed when born. Fathers, even in the earliest Vedic times, would doubtless have sympathised with the sentiment of the Aitareya Brahmana, that "to have a daughter is a misery." This prejudice survives in India to the present day with unabated force. That the standard of morality was comparatively high may be inferred from the fact that adultery and rape were counted among the most serious offences, and illegitimate births were concealed. One or two passages indicate that the practice of exposing old men, found among many primitive peoples, was not unknown to the Rigveda. Among crimes, the commonest appears to have been robbery, which generally took the form of cattle-lifting, mostly practised at night. Thieves and robbers are often mentioned, and the Rigveda contains many prayers for protection at home, abroad, and on journeys. Such criminals, when caught, were punished by being tied to stakes with cords. Debts (rina) were often incurred, chiefly, it would seem, at play, and the Rigveda even speaks of paying them off by instalments. From the references to dress which the Rigveda contains we may gather that a lower garment and a cloak were worn. Clothes were woven of sheep's wool, were often variegated, and sometimes adorned with gold. Necklets, bracelets, anklets, and ear-rings are mentioned in the way of ornaments. The hair was anointed and combed. The Atharva-veda even mentions a comb with a hundred teeth, and also speaks of remedies which strengthened or restored the growth of the hair. Women plaited their hair, while men occasionally wore it braided and wound like a shell. The gods Rudra and Pushan are described as being thus adorned; and the Vasishthas, we learn, wore their hair braided on the right side of the head. On festive occasions wreaths were worn by men. Beards were usual, but shaving was occasionally practised. The Atharva-veda relates how, when the ceremony of shaving off his beard was performed on King Soma, Vayu brought the hot water and Savitri skilfully wielded the razor. The chief article of food was milk, which was either drunk as it came from the cow or was used for cooking grain as well as mixing with soma. Next in importance came clarified butter (ghrita, now ghee), which, as a favourite food of men, was also offered to the gods. Grain was eaten after being parched, or, ground to flour between millstones, was made into cakes with milk or butter. Various kinds of vegetables and fruit also formed part of the daily fare of the Vedic Indian. Flesh was eaten only on ceremonial occasions, when animals were sacrificed. Bulls being the chief offerings to the gods, beef was probably the kind of meat most frequently eaten. Horse-flesh must have been less commonly used, owing to the comparative rarity of the horse-sacrifice. Meat was either roasted on spits or cooked in pots. The latter were made of metal or earthenware; but drinking-vessels were usually of wood. The Indians of the Rigveda were acquainted with at least two kinds of spirituous liquor. Soma was the principal one. Its use was, however, restricted to occasions of a religious character, such as sacrifices and festivals. The genuine soma plant from which it was made also became increasingly difficult to obtain as the Aryans moved farther away from the mountains. The spirit in ordinary use was called sura. The knowledge of it goes back to a remote period, for its name, like that of soma, is found in the Avesta in the form of hura. It was doubtless prepared from some kind of grain, like the liquor made from rice at the present day in India. Indulgence in sura went hand in hand with gambling. One poet mentions anger, dice, and sura as the causes of various sins; while another speaks of men made arrogant with sura reviling the gods. Its use must have been common, for by the time of the Vajasaneyi Samhita, the occupation of a "maker of sura" (surakara) or distiller had become a profession. One of the chief occupations of the Vedic Indians was of course warfare. They fought either on foot or on chariots. The latter had two occupants, the fighter and the driver. This was still the case in the Mahabharata, where we find Krishna acting as charioteer to Arjuna. Cavalry is nowhere mentioned, and probably came into use at a considerably later period. By the time of Alexander's invasion, however, it formed one of the regular four divisions of the Indian army. There are some indications that riding on horseback was at least known to the Rigveda, and distinct references to it occur in the Atharva- and the Yajur-vedas. The Vedic warriors were protected with coats of mail and helmets of metal. The principal weapons were the bow and arrow, the latter being tipped with poisoned horn or with a metal point. Spears and axes are also frequently mentioned. The principal means of livelihood to the Vedic Indian was cattle-breeding. His great desire was to possess large herds; and in the numerous prayers for protection, health, and prosperity, cattle are nearly always mentioned first. The Vedic Aryans were, however, not merely a pastoral people. They had brought with them from beyond the valleys of Afghanistan at least a primitive knowledge of agriculture, as is shown by the Indians and Iranians having such terms as "to plough" (krish) in common. This had, indeed, by the time of the Rigveda, become an industry second only to cattle-breeding in importance. The plough, which we learn from the Atharva-veda had a metal share, was used for making furrows in the fields, and was drawn by bulls. When the earth was thus prepared, seed was strewn over the soil. Irrigation seems not to have been unknown, as dug-out channels for water are mentioned. When ripe, the corn (yava) was cut with a sickle. It was then laid in bundles on the threshing-floor, where it was threshed out and finally sifted by winnowing. Though the Vedic Indians were already a pastoral and agricultural people, they still practised hunting to a considerable extent. The hunter pursued his game with bow and arrow, or used traps and snares. Birds were usually caught with toils or nets spread on the ground. Lions were taken in snares, antelopes secured in pits, and boars hunted with dogs. Navigation in Rigvedic times was, as we have already seen, limited to the crossing of rivers. The boats (called nau-s, Greek nau-s) were propelled by what were doubtless paddles (aritra), and must have been of the most primitive type, probably dug-out tree-trunks. No mention is made of rudder or anchor, masts, or sails. Trade in those days consisted in barter, the cow being the pecuniary standard by which the value of everything was measured. The transition to coinage was made by the use of gold ornaments and jewelry as a form of reward or payment, as was the case among the ancient Germans. Thus nishka, which in the Rigveda means a necklet, in later times became the name of a coin. Though the requirements of life in early Vedic times were still primitive enough to enable every man more or less to supply his own wants, the beginnings of various trades and industries can be clearly traced in the Rigveda. References are particularly frequent to the labour of the worker in wood, who was still carpenter, joiner, and wheelwright in one. As the construction of chariots and carts required peculiar skill, we find that certain men already devoted themselves to it as a special art, and worked at it for pay. Hence felicity in the composition of hymns is often compared with the dexterity of the wheelwright. Mention is also sometimes made of the smith who smelts the ore in a forge, using the wing of a bird instead of a bellows to produce a draught. He is described as making kettles as well as other domestic utensils of metal. The Rigveda also refers to tanners and the skins of animals prepared by them. Women, it appears, were acquainted with sewing and with the plaiting of mats from grass or reeds. An art much more frequently alluded to in metaphors and similes is that of weaving, but the references are so brief that we obtain no insight into the process. The Atharva-veda, however, gives some details in a passage which describes how Night and Day, personified as two sisters, weave the web of the year alternately with threads that never break or come to an end. The division of labour had been greatly developed by the time of the White Yajurveda, in which a great many trades and vocations are enumerated. Among these we find the rope-maker, the jeweller, the elephant-keeper, and the actor. Among the active and warlike Vedic Aryans the chariot-race was a favourite amusement, as is shown by the very metaphors which are borrowed from this form of sport. Though skilful driving was still a highly esteemed art in the epic period, the use of the chariot both for war and for racing gradually died out in Hindustan, partly perhaps owing to the enervating influence of the climate, and partly to the scarcity of horses, which had to be brought from the region of the Indus. The chief social recreation of men when they met together was gambling with dice. The irresistible fascination exercised, and the ruin often entailed by this amusement, we have already found described in the Gambler's Lament. Some haunted the gaming-hall to such an extent that we find them jocularly described in the Yajurveda as "pillars of the playhouse" (sabhasthanu). No certain information can be gathered from the Rigveda as to how the game was played. We know, however, from one passage that four dice were used. The Yajurveda mentions a game played with five, each of which has a name. Cheating at play appears in the Rigveda as one of the most frequent of crimes; and one poet speaks of dice as one of the chief sources of sinning against the ordinances of Varuna. Hence the word used in the Rigveda for "gamester" (kitava) in classical Sanskrit came to mean "cheat," and a later word for "rogue" (dhurta) is used as a synonym of "gamester." Another amusement was dancing, which seems to have been indulged in by men as well as women. But when the sex of the dancers is distinctly referred to, they are nearly always maidens. Thus the Goddess of Dawn is compared to a dancer decked in gay attire. That dancing took place in the open air may be gathered from the line (x. 76, 6), "thick dust arose as from men who dance" (nrityatam). Various references in the Rigveda show that even in that early age the Indians were acquainted with different kinds off music. For we find the three main types of percussion, wind, and stringed instruments there represented by the drum (dundubhi), the flute (vana), and the lute (vina). The latter has ever since been the favourite musical instrument of the Indians down to the present day. That the Vedic Indians were fond of instrumental music may be inferred from the statement of a Rishi that the sound of the flute is heard in the abode of Yama, where the blessed dwell. From one of the Sutras we learn that instrumental music was performed at some religious rites, the vina being played at the sacrifice to the Manes. By the time of the Yajurveda several kinds of professional musicians appear to have arisen, for lute-players, drummers, flute-players, and conch-blowers are enumerated in its list of callings. Singing is, of course, very often mentioned in the Rigveda. That vocal music had already got beyond the most primitive stage may be concluded from the somewhat complicated method of chanting the Samaveda, a method which was probably very ancient, as the Soma ritual goes back to the Indo-Iranian age. CHAPTER VII THE LATER VEDAS Of the three later Vedas, the Samaveda is much the most closely connected with the Rigveda. Historically it is of little importance, for it contains hardly any independent matter, all its verses except seventy-five being taken directly from the Rigveda. Its contents are derived chiefly from the eighth and especially the ninth, the Soma book. The Samaveda resembles the Yajurveda in having been compiled exclusively for ritual application; for the verses of which it consists are all meant to be chanted at the ceremonies of the soma sacrifice. Removed from their context in the Rigveda, they are strung together without internal connection, their significance depending solely on their relation to particular rites. In form these stanzas appear in the text of the Samaveda as if they were to be spoken or recited, differing from those of the Rigveda only in the way of marking the accent. The Samaveda is, therefore, only the book of words employed by the special class of Ugatri priests at the soma sacrifice. Its stanzas assume their proper character of musical Samans or chants only in the various song-books called ganas, which indicate the prolongation, the repetition, and the interpolation of syllables necessary in singing, just as is often done in European publications when the words are given below the musical notation. There are four of these songbooks in existence, two belonging to each division of the Veda. The number of Samans here given of course admitted of being indefinitely increased, as each verse could be sung to many melodies. The Samaveda consists of 1549 stanzas, distributed in two books called archikas or collections of rich verses. The principle of arrangement in these two books is different. The first is divided into six lessons (prapathaka), each of which contains ten decades (daçat) of stanzas, except the sixth, which has only nine. The verses of the first twelve decades are addressed to Agni, those of the last eleven to Soma, while those of the intermediate thirty-six are chiefly invocations of Indra, the great soma-drinker. The second book contains nine lessons, each of which is divided into two, and sometimes three sections. It consists throughout of small groups of stanzas, which, generally three in number, are closely connected, the first in the group being usually found in the first book also. That the second book is both later in date and secondary in character is indicated by its repeating stanzas from the first book as well as by its deviating much less from the text of the Rigveda. It is also a significant fact in this connection that the verses of the first book which recur in the second agree more closely with the readings of the Rigveda than the other verses by which they are surrounded. This can only be accounted for by the supposition that they were consciously altered in order to accord with the same verses in the second book which were directly influenced by the Rigveda, while the readings of the first book had diverged more widely because that book had been handed down, since the original borrowing, by an independent tradition. We know from statements of the Çatapatha Brahmana that the divisions of the first book of the Samaveda existed at least as early as the period when the second part of that Brahmana was composed. There is, moreover, some reason to believe that the Samaveda as a collection is older than at least the Taittiriya and the Vajasaneyi recensions of the Yajurveda. For the latter contain verses, used also as Saman chants, in a form which shows the variations of the Samaveda in contrast with the Rigveda. This is all the more striking as the Vajasaneyi text has an undoubted tendency to adhere to the readings of the Rigveda. On the other hand, the view expressed by Professor Weber that numerous variants in verses of the Samaveda contain archaic forms as compared with the Rigveda, and were therefore borrowed at a time before the existing redaction of the Rigveda took place, has been shown to be untenable. The various readings of the Samaveda are really due in part to inferior tradition, and in part to arbitrary alterations made in order to adapt verses detached from their context to the ritual purpose to which they were applied. Two schools of the Samaveda are known--the Kauthumas and the Ranayaniyas, the former of whom are said still to exist in Gujarat, while the latter, at one time settled mainly in the Mahratta country, are said to survive in Eastern Hyderabad. Their recensions of the text appear to have differed but little from each other. That of the Ranayanayas has been published more than once. The earliest edition, brought out by a missionary named Stevenson in 1842, was entirely superseded by the valuable work of Benfey, which, containing a German translation and glossary besides the text, came out in 1848. The Samaveda was thus the first of the Vedas to be edited in its entirety. The text of this Veda, according to the recension of the same school, together with the commentary of Sayana, was subsequently edited in India. Of the Kauthuma recension nothing has been preserved excepting the seventh prapathaka, which, in the Naigeya subdivision of this school, forms an addition to the first archika, and was edited in 1868. Two indices of the deities and composers of the Samaveda according to the Naigeya school have also been preserved, and indirectly supply information about the text of the Kauthuma recension. The Yajurveda introduces us not only to a geographical area different from that of the Rigveda, but also to a new epoch of religious and social life in India. The centre of Vedic civilisation is now found to lie farther to the east. We hear no more of the Indus and its tributaries; for the geographical data of all the recensions of the Yajurveda point to the territory in the middle of Northern India occupied by the neighbouring peoples of the Kurus and Panchalas. The country of the former, called Kurukshetra, is specifically the holy land of the Yajurvedas and of the Brahmanas attached to them. It lay in the plain between the Sutlej and the Jumna, beginning with the tract bounded by the two small rivers Drishadvati and Sarasvati, and extending south-eastwards to the Jumna. It corresponds to the modern district of Sirhind. Closely connected with, and eastward of this region, was situated the land of the Panchalas, which, running south-east from the Meerut district to Allahabad, embraces the territory between the Jumna and the Ganges called the Doab ("Two Waters"). Kurukshetra was the country in which the Brahmanic religious and social system was developed, and from which it spread over the rest of India. It claims a further historical interest as being in later times the scene of the conflict, described in the Mahabharata, between the Panchalas and Matsyas on the one hand, and the Kurus, including the ancient Bharatas, on the other. In the famous lawbook of Manu the land of the Kurus is still regarded with veneration as the special home of Brahmanism, and as such is designated Brahmavarta. Together with the country of the Panchalas, and that of their neighbours to the south of the Jumna, the Matsyas (with Mathura, now Muttra, as their capital) and the Çurasenas, it is spoken of as the land of Brahman sages, where the bravest warriors and the most pious priests live, and the customs and usages of which are authoritative. Here the adherents of the Yajurveda split up into several schools, which gradually spread over other parts of India, the Kathas, with their subdivision the Kapishthalas, being in the time of the Greeks located in the Panjab, and later in Kashmir also. The Kathas are now to be found in Kashmir only, while the Kapishthalas have entirely disappeared. The Maitrayaniyas, originally called Kalapas, appear at one time to have occupied the region around the lower course of the Narmada for a distance of some two hundred miles from the sea, extending to the south of its mouth more than a hundred miles, as far as Naasik, and northwards beyond the modern city of Baroda. There are now only a few remnants of this school to the north of the Narmada in Gujarat, chiefly at Ahmedabad, and farther west at Morvi. Before the beginning of our era these two ancient schools must have been very widely diffused in India. For the grammarian Patanjali speaks of the Kathas and Kalapas as the universally known schools of the Yajurveda, whose doctrines were proclaimed in every village. From the Ramayana, moreover, we learn that these two schools were highly honoured in Ayodhya (Oudh) also. They were, however, gradually ousted by the two younger schools of the Yajurveda. Of these, the Taittiriyas have been found only to the south of the Narmada, where they can be traced as far back as the fourth century A.D. Their most important subdivision, that of the Apastambas, still survives in the territory of the Godavari, while another, the Hiranyakeçins, are found still farther south. The school of the Vajasaneyins spread towards the south-east, down the Ganges Valley. At the present day they occupy a wide area, embracing North-East and Central India. Each of these four schools has preserved one or two recensions of the Yajurveda. The text of the Maitrayani Samhita, which consists of four books (kanda), subdivided into fifty-four lessons (prapathaka), has been edited by Professor L. v. Schroeder (1881-86). The same scholar is preparing an edition of the Kathaka Samhita, the recension of the Katha school. These two recensions are nearly related in language, having many forms in common which are not found elsewhere. Of the Kapishthala-Katha Samhita only somewhat corrupt fragments have hitherto come to light, and it is very doubtful whether sufficient manuscript material will ever be discovered to render an edition of this text possible. The Taittiriya Samhita, which comprises seven books, and is subdivided into forty-four lessons, is somewhat later in origin than the above-mentioned recensions. It was edited by Professor A. Weber in 1871-72. These texts of the Yajurveda form a closely connected group, for they are essentially the same in character. Their agreement is often even verbal, especially in the verses and formulas for recitation which they contain. They also agree in arranging their matter according to a similar principle, which is different from that of the Vajasaneyi recension. The Samhita of the latter consists entirely of the verses and formulas to be recited at the sacrifice, and is therefore clear (çukla), that is to say, separated from the explanatory matter which is collected in the Brahmana. Hence it is called the White (çukla) Yajurveda, while the others, under the general name of Black (krishna) Yajurveda, are contrasted with it, as containing both kinds of matter mixed up in the Samhita. The text of the Vajasaneyins has been preserved in two recensions, that of the Madhyamdinas and of the Kanvas. These are almost identical in their subject-matter as well as its arrangement. Their divergences hardly go beyond varieties of reading, which, moreover, appear only in their prose formulas, not in their verses. Agreeing thus closely, they cannot be separated in their origin by any wide interval of time. Their discrepancies probably arose rather from geographical separation, since each has its own peculiarities of spelling. The White Yajurveda in both these recensions has been edited by Professor Weber (1849-52). It is divided into forty chapters, called adhyayas. That it originally consisted of the first eighteen alone is indicated by external as well as internal evidence. This is the only portion containing verses and prose formulas (both having the common name of mantras) which recur in the Taittiriya Samhita, the sole exceptions being a few passages relating to the horse-sacrifice in chapters 22-25. Otherwise the contents of the last twenty-two chapters are found again only in the Brahmana and the Aranyaka belonging to the Taittiriya Samhita. Moreover, it is only the mantras of the first eighteen chapters of the Vajasaneyi Samhita which are quoted and explained word by word in the first nine books of its own Brahmana, while merely a few mantras from the following seventeen chapters are mentioned in that work. According to the further testimony of an ancient index of the White Yajurveda, attributed to Katyayana, the ten chapters 26-35 form a supplement (khila). The internal evidence of the Vajasaneyi Samhita leads to similar conclusions. The fact that chapters 26-29 contain mantras relating to ceremonies dealt with in previous chapters and requiring to be applied to those ceremonies, is a clear indication of their supplementary character. The next ten chapters (30-39) are concerned with altogether new ceremonies, such as the human sacrifice, the universal sacrifice, and the sacrifice to the Manes. Lastly, the 40th chapter must be a late addition, for it stands in no direct relation to the ritual and bears the character of an Upanishad. Different parts of the Samhita, moreover, furnish some data pointing to different periods of religious and social development. In the 16th chapter the god Rudra is described by a large number of epithets which are subsequently peculiar to Çiva. Two, however, which are particularly significant, Içana, "Ruler," and Mahadeva, "Great God," are absent here, but are added in the 39th chapter. These, as indicating a special worship of the god, represent a later development. Again, the 30th chapter specifies most of the Indian mixed castes, while the 16th mentions only a few of them. Hence, it is likely that at least some which are known to the former chapter did not as yet exist when the latter was composed. On these grounds four chronological strata may be distinguished in the White Yajurveda. To the fundamental portion, comprising chapters 1-18, the next seven must first have been added, for these two parts deal with the general sacrificial ceremonial. The development of the ritual led to the compilation of the next fourteen chapters, which are concerned with ceremonies already treated (26-29) or entirely new (30-39). The last chapter apparently dates from a period when the excessive growth of ritual practices led to a reaction. It does not supply sacrificial mantras, but aims at establishing a mean between exclusive devotion to and total neglect of the sacrificial ceremonies. Even the original portion of the White Yajurveda must have assumed shape somewhat later than any of the recensions of the Black. For the systematic and orderly distribution of matter by which the mantras are collected in the Samhita, while their dogmatic explanation is entirely relegated to a Brahmana, can hardly be as old as the confused arrangement in which both parts are largely mixed up. The two most important portions of the Yajurvedas deal with the new and full moon sacrifices, as well as the soma sacrifice, on the one hand, and with the construction of the fire-altar on the other. Chapters 1-10 of the White Yajurveda contain the mantras for the former, chapters 11-18 those for the latter part of the ceremonial. The corresponding ritual explanations are to be found in books 1-5 and 6-9 respectively of the Çatapatha Brahmana. In these fundamental portions even the Black Yajurveda does not intermingle the mantras with their explanations. The first book of the Taittiriya Samhita contains in its first four lessons nothing but the verses and formulas to be recited at the fortnightly and the soma sacrifices; the fourth book, nothing but those employed in the fire-altar ritual. These books follow the same order as, and in fact furnish a parallel recension of, the corresponding parts of the Vajasaneyi Samhita. On the other hand, the Taittiriya Samhita contains within itself, but in a different part, the two corresponding Brahmanas, which, on the whole, are free from admixture with mantras. The fifth book is the Brahmana of the fire ritual, and the sixth is that of the soma sacrifice; but the dogmatic explanation of the new and full moon sacrifice is altogether omitted here, being found in the third book of the Taittiriya Brahmana. In the Maitrayani Samhita the distribution of the corresponding material is similar. The first three lessons of the first book contain the mantras only for the fortnightly and the soma sacrifices; the latter half of the second book (lessons 7-13), the mantras only for the fire ritual. The corresponding Brahmanas begin with the sixth and the first lesson respectively of the third book. It is only in the additions to these fundamental parts of the Black Yajurveda that the separation of Mantra and Brahmana is not carried out. The main difference, then, between the Black and the White consists in the former combining within the same collection Brahmana as well as Mantra matter. As to its chief and fundamental parts, there is no reason to suppose that these two kinds of matter, which are kept separate and unmixed, are either chronologically or essentially more nearly related than are the Vajasaneyi Samhita and the Çatapatha Brahmana. The Yajurveda resembles the Samaveda in having been compiled for application to sacrificial rites only. But while the Samaveda deals solely with one part of the ritual, the soma sacrifice, the Yajurveda supplies the formulas for the whole sacrificial ceremonial. Like the Samaveda, it is also connected with the Rigveda; but while the former is practically altogether extracted from the Rigveda, the Yajurveda, though borrowing many of its verses from the same source, is largely an original production. Thus somewhat more than one-fourth only of the Vajasaneyi Samhita is derived from the Rigveda, One half of this collection consists of verses (rich) most of which (upwards of 700) are found in the Rigveda; the other half is made up of prose formulas (yajus). The latter, as well as the verses not borrowed from the Rigveda, are the independent creation of the composers of the Yajurveda. This partial originality was indeed a necessary result of the growth of entirely new ceremonies and the extraordinary development of ritual detail. It became impossible to obtain from the Rigveda even approximately suitable verses for these novel requirements. The language of the Mantra portion of the Yajurveda, though distinctly representing a later stage, yet on the whole agrees with that of the Rigveda, while separated from that of classical Sanskrit by a considerable interval. On its mythological side the religion of the Yajurveda does not differ essentially from that of the older Veda; for the pantheon is still the same. Some important modifications in detail are, however, apparent. The figure of Prajapati, only foreshadowed in the latest hymns of the Rigveda, comes more and more into the foreground as the chief of the gods. The Rudra of the Rigveda has begun to appear on the scene as Çiva, being several times mentioned by that name as well as by other epithets later peculiar to Çiva, such as Çankara and Mahadeva. Vishnu now occupies a somewhat more prominent position than in the Rigveda. A new feature is his constant identification with the sacrifice. The demons, now regularly called Asuras, perpetually appear as a group of evil beings opposed to the good gods. Their conflicts with the latter play a considerable part in the myths of the Yajurveda. The Apsarases, who, as a class of celestial nymphs endowed with all the seductive charms of female beauty, occupy so important a place in post-Vedic mythology, but are very rarely mentioned in the Rigveda, begin to be more prominent in the Yajurveda, in which many of them are referred to by individual names. Certain religious conceptions have, moreover, been modified and new rites introduced. Thus the word brahma, which in the Rigveda meant simply "devotion," has come to signify the essence of prayer and holiness, an advance towards its ultimate sense in the Upanishads. Again, snake-worship, which is unknown to the Rigveda, now appears as an element in Indian religion. That, however, which impresses on the Yajurveda the stamp of a new epoch is the character of the worship which it represents. The relative importance of the gods and of the sacrifice in the older religion has now become inverted. In the Rigveda the object of devotion was the gods, for the power of bestowing benefits on mankind was believed to lie in their hands alone, while the sacrifice was only a means of influencing their will in favour of the offerer. In the Yajurveda the sacrifice itself has become the centre of thought and desire, its correct performance in every detail being all-important. Its power is now so great that it not merely influences, but compels the gods to do the will of the officiating priest. By means of it the Brahmans may, in fact, be said to hold the gods in their hands. The religion of the Yajurveda may be described as a kind of mechanical sacerdotalism. A crowd of priests conducts a vast and complicated system of external ceremonies, to which symbolical significance is attributed, and to the smallest minutiæ of which the greatest weight is attached. In this stifling atmosphere of perpetual sacrifice and ritual, the truly religious spirit of the Rigveda could not possibly survive. Adoration of the power and beneficence of the gods, as well as the consciousness of guilt, is entirely lacking, every prayer being coupled with some particular rite and aiming solely at securing material advantages. As a natural result, the formulas of the Yajurveda are full of dreary repetitions or variations of the same idea, and abound with half or wholly unintelligible interjections, particularly the syllable om. The following quotation from the Maitrayani Samhita is a good example: Nidhayo va nidhayo va om va om va om va e ai om svarnajyotih. Here only the last word, which means "golden light," is translatable. Thus the ritual could not fail to become more and more of a mystery to all who did not belong to the Brahman caste. To its formulas, no less than to the sacrifice itself, control over Nature as well as the supernatural powers is attributed. Thus there are certain formulas for the obtainment of victory; by means of these, it is said, Indra constantly vanquished the demons. Again, we learn that, if the priest pronounces a formula for rain while mixing a certain offering, he causes the rain to stream down. Hence the formulas are regarded as having a kind of magical effect by exercising compulsion. Similar miraculous powers later came to be attached to penance and asceticism among the Brahmans, and to holiness among the Buddhists. The formulas of the Yajurveda have not, as a rule, the form of prayers addressed to the gods, but on the whole and characteristically consist of statements about the result of employing particular rites and mantras. Together with the corresponding ritual they furnish a complex mass of appliances ready to hand for the obtainment of material welfare in general as well as all sorts of special objects, such as cattle or a village. The presence of a priest capable of using the necessary forms correctly is of course always presupposed. The desires which several rites are meant to fulfil amount to nothing more than childish absurdity. Thus some of them aim at the obtainment of the year. Formulas to secure possession of the moon would have had equal practical value. Hand in hand with the elaboration of the sacrificial ceremonial went the growth and consolidation of the caste system, in which the Brahmans secured the social as well as the religious supremacy, and which has held India enchained for more than two thousand five hundred years. Not only do we find the four castes firmly established as the main divisions of Indian society in the Yajurveda, but, as one of the later books of the Vajasaneyi Samhita shows, most of the mixed castes known in later times are already found to exist. The social as well as the religious conditions of the Indian people, therefore, now wear an aspect essentially differing from those revealed to us in the hymns of the Rigveda. The Rig-, Sama-, and Yajur-vedas alone were originally recognised as canonical collections. For they only were concerned with the great sacrificial ceremonial. The Atharva-veda, with the exception of the last book, which was obviously added in order to connect it with that ceremonial, is essentially unconnected with it. The ceremonial to which its hymns were practically applied is, with few exceptions, that with which the Grihya Sutras deal, being domestic rites such as those of birth, marriage, and death, or the political rites relating to the inauguration of kings. Taken as a whole, it is a heterogeneous collection of spells. Its most salient teaching is sorcery, for it is mainly directed against hostile agencies, such as diseases, noxious animals, demons, wizards, foes, oppressors of Brahmans. But it also contains many spells of an auspicious character, such as charms to secure harmony in family and village life, reconciliation of enemies, long life, health, and prosperity, besides prayers for protection on journeys, and for luck in gambling. Thus it has a double aspect, being meant to appease and bless as well as to curse. In its main contents the Atharva-veda is more superstitious than the Rigveda. For it does not represent the more advanced religious beliefs of the priestly class, but is a collection of the most popular spells current among the masses, who always preserve more primitive notions with regard to demoniac powers. The spirit which breathes in it is that of a prehistoric age. A few of its actual charms probably date with little modification from the Indo-European period; for, as Adalbert Kuhn has shown, some of its spells for curing bodily ailments agree in purpose and content, as well as to some extent even in form, with certain old German, Lettic, and Russian charms. But with regard to the higher religious ideas relating to the gods, it represents a more recent and advanced stage than the Rigveda. It contains, indeed, more theosophic matter than any of the other Samhitas. For the history of civilisation it is on the whole more interesting and important than the Rigveda itself. The Atharva-veda is extant in the recensions of two different schools. That of the Paippaladas is, however, known in a single birch-bark manuscript, which is ancient but inaccurate and mostly unaccented. It was discovered by Professor Bühler in Kashmir, and has been described by Professor Roth in his tract Der Atharvaveda in Kaschmir (1875). It will probably soon be accessible to scholars in the form of a photographic reproduction published by Professor Bloomfield. This recension is doubtless meant by the "Paippalada Mantras" mentioned in one of the Pariçishtas or supplementary writings of the Atharva-veda. The printed text, edited by Roth and Whitney in 1856, gives the recension of the Çaunaka school. Nearly the whole of Sayana's commentary to the Atharva-veda has been edited in India. Its chief interest lies in the large number of readings supplied by it which differ from those of the printed edition of this Veda. This Samhita is divided into twenty books, containing 730 hymns and about 6000 stanzas. Some 1200 of the latter are derived from the Rigveda, chiefly from the tenth, first, and eighth books, a few also from each of the other books. Of the 143 hymns of Book XX., all but twelve are taken bodily from the established text of the Rigveda without any change. The matter borrowed from the Rigveda in the other books shows considerable varieties of reading, but these, as in the other Samhitas, are of inferior value compared with the text of the Rigveda. As is the case in the Yajurveda, a considerable part of the Atharva (about one-sixth) consists of prose. Upwards of fifty hymns, comprising the whole of the fifteenth and sixteenth, besides some thirty hymns scattered in the other books, are entirely unmetrical. Parts or single stanzas of over a hundred other hymns are of a similar character. That the Atharva-veda originally consisted of its first thirteen books only is shown both by its arrangement and by its subject-matter. The contents of Books I.-VII. are distributed according to the number of stanzas contained in the hymns. In Book I. they have on the average four stanzas, in II. five, in III. six, in IV. seven, in V. eight to eighteen, in VI. three; and in VII. about half the hymns have only one stanza each. Books VIII.-XIII. contain longer pieces. The contents of all these thirteen books are indiscriminately intermingled. The following five books, on the contrary, are arranged according to uniformity of subject-matter. Book XIV. contains the stanzas relating to the wedding rite, which consist largely of mantras from the tenth book of the Rigveda. Book XV. is a glorification of the Supreme Being under the name of Vratya, while XVI. and XVII. contain certain conjurations. The whole of XV. and nearly the whole of XVI., moreover, are composed in prose of the type found in the Brahmanas. Both XVI. and XVII. are very short, the former containing nine hymns occupying four printed pages, the latter consisting of only a single hymn, which extends to little more than two pages. Book XVIII. deals with burial and the Manes. Like XIV., it derives most of its stanzas from the tenth book of the Rigveda. Both these books are, therefore, not specifically Atharvan in character. The last two books are manifestly late additions. Book XIX. consists of a mixture of supplementary pieces, part of the text of which is rather corrupt. Book XX., with a slight exception, contains only complete hymns addressed to Indra, which are borrowed directly and without any variation from the Rigveda. The fact that its readings are identical with those of the Rigveda would alone suffice to show that it is of later date than the original books, the readings of which show considerable divergences from those of the older Veda. There is, however, more convincing proof of the lateness of this book. Its matter relates to the Soma ritual, and is entirely foreign to the spirit of the Atharva-veda. It was undoubtedly added to establish the claim of the Atharva to the position of a fourth Veda, by bringing it into connection with the recognised sacrificial ceremonial of the three old Vedas. This book, again, as well as the nineteenth, is not noticed in the Pratiçakhya of the Atharva-veda. Both of them must, therefore, have been added after that work was composed. Excepting two prose pieces (48 and 49) the only original part of Book XX. is the so-called kuntapa hymns (127-136). These are allied to the danastutis of the Rigveda, those panegyrics of liberal kings or sacrificers which were the forerunners of epic narratives in praise of warlike princes and heroes. The existence of the Atharva, as a collection of some kind, when the last books of the Çatapatha Brahmana (xi., xiii., xiv.), the Taittiriya Brahmana, and the Chhandogya Upanishad were composed, is proved by the references to it in those works. In Patanjali's Mahabhashya the Atharva had already attained to such an assured position that it is even cited at the head of the Vedas, and occasionally as their only representative. The oldest name of this Veda is Atharvangirasah, a designation occurring in the text of the Atharva-veda, and found at the beginning of its MSS. themselves. This word is a compound formed of the names of two ancient families of priests, the Atharvans and Angirases. In the opinion of Professor Bloomfield the former term is here synonymous with "holy charms," as referring to auspicious practices, while the latter is an equivalent of "witchcraft charms." The term atharvan and its derivatives, though representing only its benevolent side, would thus have come to designate the fourth Veda as a whole. In its plural form (atharvanah) the word in this sense is found several times in the Brahmanas, but in the singular it seems first to occur in an Upanishad. The adjective atharvana, first found as a neuter plural with the sense of "Atharvan hymns" in the Atharva-veda itself (Book XIX.), is common from that time onwards. The name atharva-veda first appears in Sutras about as early as rigveda and similar designations of the other Samhitas. There are besides two other names of the Atharva-veda, the use of which is practically limited to the ritual texts of this Veda. In one of these, Bhrigu-angirasah, the name of another ancient family of fire-priests, the Bhrigus, takes the place of that of the Angirases. The other, brahma-veda, has outside the Atharvan literature only been found once, and that in a Grihya Sutra of the Rigveda. A considerable time elapsed before the Atharva-veda, owing to the general character of its contents, attained to the rank of a canonical book. There is no evidence that even at the latest period of the Rigveda the charms constituting the Atharva-veda were formally recognised as a separate literary category. For the Purusha hymn, while mentioning the three sacrificial Vedas by the names of Rik, Saman, and Yajus, makes no reference to the spells of the Atharva-veda. Yet the Rigveda, though it is mainly concerned with praises of the gods in connection with the sacrifice, contains hymns showing that sorcery was bound up with domestic practices from the earliest times in India. The only reference to the spells of the Atharva-veda as a class in the Yajurvedas is found in the Taittiriya Samhita, where they are alluded to under the name of angirasah by the side of Rik, Saman, and Yajus, which it elsewhere mentions alone. Yet the formulas of the Yajur-veda are often pervaded by the spirit of the Atharva-veda, and are sometimes Atharvan even in their wording. In fact, the difference between the Rigveda and Yajurveda on the one hand, and the Atharva on the other, as regards sorcery, lies solely in the degree of its applicability and prominence. The Atharva-veda itself only once mentions its own literary type directly (as atharvangirasah) and once indirectly (as bheshaja or "auspicious spells"), by the side of the other three Vedas, while the latter in a considerable number of passages are referred to alone. This shows that as yet there was no feeling of antagonism between the adherents of this Veda and those of the older ones. Turning to the Brahmanas, we find that those of the Rigveda do not mention the Atharva-veda at all, while the Taittiriya Brahmana (like the Taittiriya Aranyaka) refers to it twice. In the Çatapatha Brahmana it appears more frequently, occupying a more defined position, though not that of a Veda. This work very often mentions the three old Vedas alone, either explicitly as Rik, Saman, Yajus, or as trayi vidya, "the threefold knowledge." In several passages they are also mentioned along with other literary types, such as itihasa (story), purana (ancient legend), gatha (song), sutra, and upanishad. In these enumerations the Atharva-veda regularly occupies the fourth place, coming immediately after the three Vedas, while the rest follow in varying order. The Upanishads in general treat the Atharva-veda in the same way; the Upanishads of the Atharva itself, however, sometimes tacitly add its name after the three Vedas, even without mentioning other literary types. With regard to the Çrauta or sacrificial Sutras, we find no reference to the Atharva in those of Katyayana (White Yajurveda) or Latyayana (Samaveda), and only one each in those of Çankhayana and Açvalayana (Rigveda). In all this sacrificial literature there is no evidence of repugnance to the Atharva, or of exclusiveness towards it on the part of followers of the other Vedas. Such an attitude could indeed hardly be expected. For though the sphere of the Vedic sacrificial ritual was different from that of regular magical rites, it is impossible to draw a distinct line of demarcation between sacrifice and sorcery in the Vedic religion, of which witchcraft is, in fact, an essential element. The adherents of the three sacrificial Vedas would thus naturally recognise a work which was a repository of witchcraft. Thus the Çatapatha Brahmana, though characterising yatu or sorcery as devilish--doubtless because it may be dangerous to those who practise it--places yatuvidah or sorcerers by the side of bahvrichas or men skilled in Rigvedic verses. Just as the Rigveda contains very few hymns directly connected with the practice of sorcery, so the Atharva originally included only matters incidental and subsidiary to the sacrificial ritual. Thus it contains a series of formulas (vi. 47-48) which have no meaning except in connection with the three daily pressings (savana) of soma. We also find in it hymns (e. g. vi. 114) which evidently consist of formulas of expiation for faults committed at the sacrifice. We must therefore conclude that the followers of the Atharva to some extent knew and practised the sacrificial ceremonial before the conclusion of the present redaction of their hymns. The relation of the Atharva to the çrauta rites was, however, originally so slight, that it became necessary, in order to establish a direct connection with it, to add the twentieth book, which was compiled from the Rigveda for the purposes of the sacrificial ceremonial. The conspicuous way in which çrauta works ignore the Atharva is therefore due to its being almost entirely unconnected with the subject-matter of the sacrifice, not to any pronounced disapproval or refusal to recognise its value in its own sphere. With the Grihya or Domestic Sutras, which contain many elements of sorcery practice (vidhana), we should expect the Atharva to betray a closer connection. This is, indeed, to some extent the case; for many verses quoted in these Sutras are identical with or variants of those contained in the Atharva, even though the Domestic, like the Sacrificial, Sutras endeavoured to borrow their verses as far as possible from the particular Veda to which they were attached. Otherwise, however, their references to the Atharva betray no greater regard for it than those in the Sacrificial Sutras do. Such references to the fourth Veda are here, it is true, more frequent and formulaic; but this appears to mean nothing more than that the Grihya Sutras belong to a later date. In the sphere, too, of law (dharma), as dealing with popular usage and custom, the practices of the Atharva maintained a certain place; for the indispensable sciences of medicine and astrology were distinctively Atharvan, and the king's domestic chaplain (purohita), believed capable of rendering great services in the injury and overthrow of enemies by sorcery, seems usually to have been an Atharvan priest. At the same time it is only natural that we should first meet with censures of the practices of the Atharva in the legal literature, because such practices were thought to enable one man to harm another. The verdict of the law treatises on the whole is, that as incantations of various kinds are injurious, the Atharva-veda is inferior and its practices impure. This inferiority is directly expressed in the Dharma Sutra of Apastamba; and the later legal treatise (smriti) of Vishnu classes the reciter of a deadly incantation from the Atharva among the seven kinds of assassins. Physicians and astrologers are pronounced impure; practices with roots are prohibited; sorceries and imprecations are punished with severe penances. In certain cases, however, the Atharva-veda is stated to be useful. Thus the Lawbook of Manu recommends it as the natural weapon of the Brahman against his enemies. In the Mahabharata we find the importance and the canonical character of the Atharva fully recognised. The four Vedas are often mentioned, the gods Brahma and Vishnu being in several passages described as having created them. The Atharva is here often also referred to alone, and spoken of with approbation. Its practices are well known and seldom criticised adversely, magic and sorcery being, as a rule, regarded as good. Finally, the Puranas not only regularly speak of the fourfold Veda, but assign to the Atharva the advanced position claimed for it by its own ritual literature. Thus the Vishnu Purana connects the Atharva with the fourth priest (the brahman) of the sacrificial ritual. Nevertheless a certain prejudice has prevailed against the Atharva from the time of the Dharma Sutras. This appears from the fact that, even at the present day, according to Burnell, the most influential Brahmans of Southern India still refuse to accept the authority of the fourth Veda, and deny its genuineness. A similar conclusion may be drawn from occasional statements in classical texts, and especially from the efforts of the later Atharvan writings themselves to vindicate the character of their Veda. These ritual texts not only never enumerate the Vedas without including the Atharva, but even sometimes place it at the head of the four Vedas. Under a sense of the exclusion of their Veda from the sphere of the sacrificial ritual, they lay claim to the fourth priest (the brahman), who in the Vedic religion was not attached to any of the three Vedas, but being required to have a knowledge of all three and of their sacrificial application, acted as superintendent or director of the sacrificial ceremonial. Ingeniously availing themselves of the fact that he was unconnected with any of the three Vedas, they put forward the claim of the fourth Veda as the special sphere of the fourth priest. That priest, moreover, was the most important as possessing a universal knowledge of religious lore (brahma), the comprehensive esoteric understanding of the nature of the gods and of the mystery of the sacrifice. Hence the Gopatha Brahmana exalts the Atharva as the highest religious lore (brahma), and calls it the Brahmaveda. The claim to the latter designation was doubtless helped by the word brahma often occurring in the Atharva-veda itself with the sense of "charm," and by the fact that the Veda contains a larger amount of theosophic matter (brahmavidya) than any other Samhita. The texts belonging to the other Vedas never suggest that the Atharva is the sphere of the fourth priest, some Brahmana passages expressly declaring that any one equipped with the requisite knowledge maybe a brahman. The ritual texts of the Atharva further energetically urged that the Purohita, or domestic chaplain, should be a follower of the Atharva-veda. They appear to have finally succeeded in their claim to this office, doubtless because kings attached great value to a special knowledge of witchcraft. The geographical data contained in the Atharva are but few, and furnish no certain evidence as to the region in which its hymns were composed. One hymn of its older portion (v. 22) makes mention of the Gandharis, Mujavats, Mahavrishas, and Balhikas (in the north-west), and the Magadhas and Angas (in the east); but they are referred to in such a way that no safe conclusions can be drawn as to the country in which the composer of the hymn in question lived. The Atharva also contains a few astronomical data, the lunar mansions being enumerated in the nineteenth book. The names here given deviate considerably from those mentioned in the Taittiriya Samhita, appearing mostly in a later form. The passage in which this list is found is, however, a late addition. The language of the Atharva is, from a grammatical point of view, decidedly later than that of the Rigveda, but earlier than that of the Brahmanas. In vocabulary it is chiefly remarkable for the large number of popular words which it contains, and which from lack of opportunity do not appear elsewhere. It seems probable that the hymns of the Atharva, though some of them must be very old, were not edited till after the Brahmanas of the Rigveda were composed. On examining the contents of the Atharva-veda more in detail, we find that the hostile charms it contains are directed largely against various diseases or the demons which are supposed to cause them. There are spells to cure fever (takman), leprosy, jaundice, dropsy, scrofula, cough, ophthalmia, baldness, lack of vital power; fractures and wounds; the bite of snakes or injurious insects, and poison in general; mania and other ailments. These charms are accompanied by the employment of appropriate herbs. Hence the Atharva is the oldest literary monument of Indian medicine. The following is a specimen of a charm against cough (vi. 105):-- Just as the soul with soul-desires Swift to a distance flies away, So even thou, O cough, fly forth Along the soul's quick-darting course. Just as the arrow, sharpened well, Swift to a distance flies away, So even thou, O cough, fly forth Along the broad expanse of earth. Just as the sun-god's shooting rays Swift to a distance fly away, So even thou, O cough, fly forth Along the ocean's surging flood. Here is a spell for the cure of leprosy by means of a dark-coloured plant:-- Born in the night art thou, O herb, Dark-coloured, sable, black of hue: Rich-tinted, tinge this leprosy, And stain away its spots of grey! (i. 23, 1). A large number of imprecations are directed against demons, sorcerers, and enemies. The following two stanzas deal with the latter two classes respectively:-- Bend round and pass us by, O curse, Even as a burning fire a lake. Here strike him down that curses us, As heaven's lightning smites the tree (vi. 37, 2). As, rising in the east, the sun The stars' bright lustre takes away, So both of women and of men, My foes, the strength I take away (vii. 13, 1). A considerable group of spells consists of imprecations directed against the oppressors of Brahmans and those who withhold from them their rightful rewards. The following is one of the threats held out against such evil-doers:-- Water with which they bathe the dead, And that with which they wet his beard, The gods assigned thee as thy share, Oppressor of the Brahman priest (v. 19, 14). Another group of charms is concerned with women, being intended to secure their love with the aid of various potent herbs. Some of them are of a hostile character, being meant to injure rivals. The following two stanzas belong to the former class:-- As round this heaven and earth the sun Goes day by day, encircling them, So do I go around thy mind, That, woman, thou shalt love me well, And shalt not turn away from me (vi. 8, 3). 'Tis winged with longing, barbed with love, Its shaft is formed of fixed desire: With this his arrow levelled well Shall Kama pierce thee to the heart (iii. 25, 2). Among the auspicious charms of the Atharva there are many prayers for long life and health, for exemption from disease and death:-- If life in him declines or has departed, If on the very brink of death he totters, I snatch him from the lap of Dissolution, I free him flow to live a hundred autumns (iii. 11, 2). Rise up from hence, O man, and straightway casting Death's fetters from thy feet, depart not downward; From life upon this earth be not yet sundered, Nor from the sight of Agni and the sunlight (viii. 1, 4). Another class of hymns includes prayers for protection from dangers and calamities, or for prosperity in the house or field, in cattle, trade, and even gambling. Here are two spells meant to secure luck at play:-- As at all times the lightning stroke Smites irresistibly the tree: So gamesters with the dice would I Beat irresistibly to-day (vii. 5, 1). O dice, give play that profit brings, Like cows that yield abundant milk: Attach me to a streak of gain, As with a string the bow is bound (vii. 5, 9). A certain number of hymns contain charms to secure harmony, to allay anger, strife, and discord, or to procure ascendency in the assembly. The following one is intended for the latter purpose:-- O assembly, we know thy name, "Frolic" [9] truly by name thou art: May all who meet and sit in thee Be in their speech at one with me (vii. 12, 2). A few hymns consist of formulas for the expiation of sins, such as offering imperfect sacrifices and marrying before an elder brother, or contain charms for removing the defilement caused by ominous birds, and for banishing evil dreams. If waking, if asleep, I have Committed sin, to sin inclined, May what has been and what shall be Loose me as from a wooden post (vi. 115, 2). A short hymn (vi. 120), praying for the remission of sins, concludes with this stanza:-- In heaven, where our righteous friends are blessèd, Having cast off diseases from their bodies, From lameness free and not deformed in members, There may we see our parents and our children. Another group of hymns has the person of the king as its centre. They contain charms to be used at a royal election or consecration, for the restoration of an exiled king, for the attainment of lustre and glory, and in particular for victory in battle. The following is a specimen of spells intended to strike terror into the enemy:-- Arise and arm, ye spectral forms, Followed by meteoric flames; Ye serpents, spirits of the deep, Demons of night, pursue the foe! (xi. 10, 1). Here is a stanza from a hymn (v. 21, 6) to the battle-drum meant to serve the same purpose:-- As birds start back affrighted at the eagle's cry, As day and night they tremble at the lion's roar: So thou, O drum, shout out against our enemies, Scare them away in terror and confound their minds. Among the cosmogonic and theosophic hymns the finest is a long one of sixty-three stanzas addressed to the earth (xii. 1). I translate a few lines to give some idea of its style and contents:-- The earth, on whom, with clamour loud, Men that are mortal sing and dance, On whom they fight in battle fierce: This earth shall drive away from us our foemen, And she shall make us free from all our rivals. In secret places holding treasure manifold, The earth shall riches give, and gems and gold to me: Granting wealth lavishly, the kindly goddess Shall goods abundantly bestow upon us. The four hymns of Book XIII. are devoted to the praise of Rohita, the "Red" Sun, as a cosmogonic power. In another (xi. 5) the sun is glorified as a primeval principle under the guise of a Brahman disciple (brahmacharin). In others Prana or Breath (xi. 4), Kama or Love (ix. 2), and Kala or Time (xix. 53-54), are personified as primordial powers. There is one hymn (xi. 7) in which even Ucchishta (the remnant of the sacrifice) is deified as the Supreme Being; except for its metrical form it belongs to the Brahmana type of literature. In concluding this survey of the Atharva-veda, I would draw attention to a hymn to Varuna (iv. 16); which, though its last two stanzas are ordinary Atharvan spells for binding enemies with the fetters of that deity, in its remaining verses exalts divine omniscience in a strain unequalled in any other Vedic poem. The following three stanzas are perhaps the best:-- This earth is all King Varuna's dominion, And that broad sky whose boundaries are distant. The loins of Varuna are these two oceans, Yet in this drop of water he is hidden. He that should flee afar beyond the heaven Would not escape King Varuna's attention: His spies come hither, from the sky descending, With all their thousand eyes the earth surveying. King Varuna discerns all that's existent Between the earth and sky, and all beyond them; The winkings of men's eyes by him are counted; As gamesters dice, so he lays down his statutes. CHAPTER VIII THE BRAHMANAS (Circa 800-500 B.C.) The period in which the poetry of the Vedic Samhitas arose was followed by one which produced a totally different literary type--the theological treatises called Brahmanas. It is characteristic of the form of these works that they are composed in prose, and of their matter that they deal with the sacrificial ceremonial. Their main object being to explain the sacred significance of the ritual to those who are already familiar with the sacrifice, the descriptions they give of it are not exhaustive, much being stated only in outline or omitted altogether. They are ritual text-books, which, however, in no way aim at furnishing a complete survey of the sacrificial ceremonial to those who do not know it already. Their contents may be classified under the three heads of practical sacrificial directions (vidhi), explanations (arthavada), exegetical, mythological, or polemical, and theological or philosophical speculations on the nature of things (upanishad). Even those which have been preserved form quite an extensive literature by themselves; yet many others must have been lost, as appears from the numerous names of and quotations from Brahmanas unknown to us occurring in those which are extant. They reflect the spirit of an age in which all intellectual activity is concentrated on the sacrifice, describing its ceremonies, discussing its value, speculating on its origin and significance. It is only reasonable to suppose that an epoch like this, which produced no other literary monuments, lasted for a considerable time. For though the Brahmanas are on the whole uniform in character, differences of age are traceable in them. Next to the prose portions of the Yajurvedas, the Panchavimça and the Taittiriya are proved by their syntax and vocabulary to be the most archaic of the regular Brahmanas. This conclusion is confirmed by the fact that the latter is, and the former is known to have been, accented. A more recent group is formed by the Jaiminiya, the Kaushitaki, and the Aitareya Brahmanas. The first of these is probably the oldest, while the third seems, on linguistic grounds at least, to be the latest of the three. The Çatapatha Brahmana, again, is posterior to these. For it shows a distinct advance in matter; its use of the narrative tenses is later than that of the Aitareya; and its style is decidedly developed in comparison with all the above-mentioned Brahmanas. It is, indeed, accented, but in a way which differs entirely from the regular Vedic method. Latest of all are the Gopatha Brahmana of the Atharva and the short Brahmanas of the Samaveda. In language the Brahmanas are considerably more limited in the use of forms than the Rigveda. The subjunctive is, however, still employed, as well as a good many of the old infinitives. Their syntax, indeed, represents the oldest Indian stage even better than the Rigveda, chiefly of course owing to the restrictions imposed by metre on the style of the latter. The Brahmanas contain some metrical pieces (gathas), which differ from the prose in which they are imbedded by certain peculiarities of their own and by a more archaic character. Allied to these is a remarkable poem of this period, the Suparnadhyaya, an attempt, after the age of living Vedic poetry had come to an end, to compose in the style of the Vedic hymns. It contains many Vedic forms, and is accented, but it betrays its true character not only by its many modern forms, but by numerous monstrosities due to unsuccessful imitation of the Vedic language. A further development are the Aranyakas or "Forest Treatises," the later age of which is indicated both by the position they occupy at the end of the Brahmanas and by their theosophical character. These works are generally represented as meant for the use of pious men who have retired to the forest and no longer perform sacrifices. According to the view of Professor Oldenberg, they are, however, rather treatises which, owing to the superior mystic sanctity of their contents, were intended to be communicated to the pupil by his teacher in the solitude of the forest instead of in the village. In tone and content the Aranyakas form a transition to the Upanishads, which are either imbedded in them, or more usually form their concluding portion. The word upa-ni-shad (literally "sitting down beside") having first doubtless meant "confidential session," came to signify "secret or esoteric doctrine," because these works were taught to select pupils (probably towards the end of their apprenticeship) in lectures from which the wider circle was excluded. Being entirely devoted to theological and philosophical speculations on the nature of things, the Upanishads mark the last stage of development in the Brahmana literature. As they generally come at the end of the Brahmanas, they are also called Vedanta ("end of the Veda"), a term later interpreted to mean "final goal of the Veda." "Revelation" (çruti) was regarded as including them, while the Sutras belonged to the sphere of tradition (smriti). The subject-matter of all the old Upanishads is essentially the same--the doctrine of the nature of the Atman or Brahma (the supreme soul). This fundamental theme was expounded in various ways by the different Vedic schools, of which the Upanishads were originally the dogmatic text-books, just as the Brahmanas were their ritual text-books. The Aranyakas and Upanishads represent a phase of language which on the whole closely approaches to classical Sanskrit, the oldest Upanishads occupying a position linguistically midway between the Brahmanas and the Sutras. Of the two Brahmanas attached to the Rigveda, the more important is the Aitareya. The extant text consists of forty chapters (adhyaya) divided into eight books called panchikas or "pentads," because containing five chapters each. That its last ten chapters were a later addition appears likely both from internal evidence and from the fact that the closely related Çankhayana Brahmana contains nothing corresponding to their subject-matter, which is dealt with in the Çankhayana Sutra. The last three books would further appear to have been composed at a later date than the first five, since the perfect in the former is used as a narrative tense, while in the latter it still has its original present force, as in the oldest Brahmanas. The essential part of this Brahmana deals with the soma sacrifice. It treats first (1-16) of the soma rite called Agnishtoma, which lasts one day, then (17-18) of that called Gavamayana, which lasts 360 days, and thirdly (19-24) of the Dvadaçaha or "twelve days' rite." The next part (25-32), which is concerned with the Agnihotra or "fire sacrifice" and other matters, has the character of a supplement. The last portion (33-40), dealing with the ceremonies of the inauguration of the king and with the position of his domestic priest, bears similar signs of lateness. The other Brahmana of the Rigveda, which goes by the name of Kaushitaki as well as Çankhayana, consists of thirty chapters. Its subject-matter is, on the whole, the same as that of the original part of the Aitareya (i.-v.), but is wider. For in its opening chapters it goes through the setting up of the sacred fire (agni-adhana), the daily morning and evening sacrifice (agnihotra), the new and full moon ritual, and the four-monthly sacrifices. The Soma sacrifice, however, occupies the chief position even here. The more definite and methodical treatment of the ritual in the Kaushitaki would seem to indicate that this Brahmana was composed at a later date than the first five books of the Aitareya. Such a conclusion is, however, not altogether borne out by a comparison of the linguistic data of these two works. Professor Weber argues from the occurrence in one passage of Içana and Mahadeva as designations of the god who was later exclusively called Çiva, that the Kaushitaki Brahmana was composed at about the same time as the latest books of the White Yajurveda and those parts of the Atharva-veda and of the Çatapatha Brahmana in which these appellations of the same god are found. These Brahmanas contain very few geographical data. From the way, however, in which the Aitareya mentions the Indian tribes, it may be safely inferred that this work had its origin in the country of the Kuru-Panchalas, in which, as we have seen, the Vedic ritual must have been developed, and the hymns of the Rigveda were probably collected in the existing Samhita. From the Kaushitaki we learn that the study of language was specially cultivated in the north of India, and that students who returned from there were regarded as authorities on linguistic questions. The chief human interest of these Brahmanas lies in the numerous myths and legends which they contain. The longest and most remarkable of those found in the Aitareya is the story of Çunahçepa (Dog's-Tail), which forms the third chapter of Book VII. The childless King Hariçchandra vowed, if he should have a son, to sacrifice him to Varuna. But when his son Rohita was born, he kept putting off the fulfilment of his promise. At length, when the boy was grown up, his father, pressed by Varuna, prepared to perform the sacrifice. Rohita, however, escaped to the forest, where he wandered for six years, while his father was afflicted with dropsy by Varuna. At last he fell in with a starving Brahman, who consented to sell to him for a hundred cows his son Çunahçepa as a substitute. Varuna agreed, saying, "A Brahman is worth more than a Kshatriya." Çunahçepa was accordingly bound to the stake, and the sacrifice was about to proceed, when the victim prayed to various gods in succession. As he repeated one verse after the other, the fetters of Varuna began to fall off and the dropsical swelling of the king to diminish, till finally Çunahçepa was released and Hariçchandra was restored to health again. The style of the prose in which the Aitareya is composed is crude, clumsy, abrupt, and elliptical. The following quotation from the stanzas interspersed in the story of Çunahçepa may serve as a specimen of the gathas found in the Brahmanas. These verses are addressed by a sage named Narada to King Hariçchandra on the importance of having a son:-- In him a father pays a debt And reaches immortality, When he beholds the countenance Of a son born to him alive. Than all the joy which living things In waters feel, in earth and fire, The happiness that in his son A father feels is greater far. At all times fathers by a son Much darkness, too, have passed beyond: In him the father's self is born, He wafts him to the other shore. Food is man's life and clothes afford protection, Gold gives him beauty, marriages bring cattle; His wife's a friend, his daughter causes pity: A son is like a light in highest heaven. To the Aitareya Brahmana belongs the Aitareya Aranyaka. It consists of eighteen chapters, distributed unequally among five books. The last two books are composed in the Sutra style, and are really to be regarded as belonging to the Sutra literature. Four parts can be clearly distinguished in the first three books. Book I. deals with various liturgies of the Soma sacrifice from a purely ritual point of view. The first three chapters of Book II., on the other hand, are theosophical in character, containing speculations about the world-soul under the names of Prana and Purusha. It is allied in matter to the Upanishads, some of its more valuable thoughts recurring, occasionally even word for word, in the Kaushitaki Upanishad. The third part consists of the remaining four sections of Book II., which form the regular Aitareya Upanishad. Finally, Book III. deals with the mystic and allegorical meaning of the three principal modes in which the Veda is recited in the Samhita, Pada and Krama Pathas, and of the various letters of the alphabet. To the Kaushitaki Brahmana is attached the Kaushitaki Aranyaka. It consists of fifteen chapters. The first two of these correspond to Books I. and V. of the Aitareya Aranyaka, the seventh and eighth to Book III., while the intervening four chapters (3-6) form the Kaushitaki Upanishad. The latter is a long and very interesting Upanishad. It seems not improbably to have been added as an independent treatise to the completed Aranyaka, as it is not always found in the same part of the latter work in the manuscripts. Brahmanas belonging to two independent schools of the Samaveda have been preserved, those of the Tandins and of the Talavakaras or Jaiminiyas. Though several other works here claim the title of ritual text-books, only three are in reality Brahmanas. The Brahmana of the Talavakaras, which for the most part is still unpublished, seems to consist of five books. The first three (unpublished) are mainly concerned with various parts of the sacrificial ceremonial. The fourth book, called the Upanishad Brahmana (probably "the Brahmana of mystic meanings"), besides all kinds of allegories of the Aranyaka order, two lists of teachers, a section about the origin of the vital airs (prana) and about the savitri stanza, contains the brief but important Kena Upanishad. Book V., entitled Arsheya-Brahmana, is a short enumeration of the composers of the Samaveda. To the school of the Tandins belongs the Panchavimça ("twenty-five fold"), also called Tandya or Praudha, Brahmana, which, as the first name implies, consists of twenty-five books. It is concerned with the Soma sacrifices in general, ranging from the minor offerings to those which lasted a hundred days, or even several years. Besides many legends, it contains a minute description of sacrifices performed on the Sarasvati and Drishadvati. Though Kurukshetra is known to it, other geographical data which it contains point to the home of this Brahmana having lain farther east. Noteworthy among its contents are the so-called Vratya-Stomas, which are sacrifices meant to enable Aryan but non-Brahmanical Indians to enter the Brahmanical order. A point of interest in this Brahmana is the bitter hostility which it displays towards the school of the Kaushitakins. The Shadvimça Brahmana, though nominally an independent work, is in reality a supplement to the Panchavimça, of which, as its name implies, it forms the twenty-sixth book. The last of its six chapters is called the Adbhuta Brahmana, which is intended to obviate the evil effects of various extraordinary events or portents. Among such phenomena are mentioned images of the gods when they laugh, cry, sing, dance, perspire, crack, and so forth. The other Brahmana of this school, the Chhandogya Brahmana, is only to a slight extent a ritual text-book. It does not deal with the Soma sacrifice at all, but only with ceremonies relating to birth and marriage or prayers addressed to divine beings. These are the contents of only the first two "lessons" of this Brahmana of the Sama theologians. The remaining eight lessons constitute the Chhandogya Upanishad. There are four other short works which, though bearing the name, are not really Brahmanas. These are the Samavidhana Brahmana, a treatise on the employment of chants for all kinds of superstitious purposes; the Devatadhyaya Brahmana, containing some statements about the deities of the various chants of the Samaveda; the Vamça Brahmana, which furnishes a genealogy of the teachers of the Samaveda; and, finally, the Samhitopanishad, which, like the third book of the Aitareya Aranyaka, treats of the way in which the Veda should be recited. The Brahmanas of the Samaveda are distinguished by the exaggerated and fantastic character of their mystical speculations. A prominent feature in them is the constant identification of various kinds of Samans or chants with all kinds of terrestrial and celestial objects. At the same time they contain much matter that is interesting from a historical point of view. In the Black Yajurveda the prose portions of the various Samhitas form the only Brahmanas in the Katha and the Maitrayaniya schools. In the Taittiriya school they form the oldest and most important Brahmana. Here we have also the Taittiriya Brahmana as an independent work in three books. This, however, hardly differs in character from the Taittiriya Samhita, being rather a continuation. It forms a supplement concerned with a few sacrifices omitted in the Samhita, or handles, with greater fulness of detail, matters already dealt with. There is also a Taittiriya Aranyaka, which in its turn forms a supplement to the Brahmana. The last four of its ten sections constitute the two Upanishads of this school, vii.-ix. forming the Taittiriya Upanishad, and x. the Maha-Narayana Upanishad, also called the Yajniki Upanishad. Excepting these four sections, the title of Brahmana or Aranyaka does not indicate a difference of content as compared with the Samhita, but is due to late and artificial imitation of the other Vedas. The last three sections of Book III. of the Brahmana, as well as the first two books of the Aranyaka, originally belonged to the school of the Kathas, though they have not been preserved as part of the tradition of that school. The different origin of these parts is indicated by the absence of the change of y and v to iy and uv respectively, which otherwise prevails in the Taittiriya Brahmana and Aranyaka. In one of these Kathaka sections (Taitt. Br. iii. 11), by way of illustrating the significance of the particular fire called nachiketa, the story is told of a boy, Nachiketas, who, on visiting the House of Death, was granted the fulfilment of three wishes by the god of the dead. On this story is based the Kathaka Upanishad. Though the Maitrayani Samhita has no independent Brahmana, its fourth book, as consisting of explanations and supplements to the first three, is a kind of special Brahmana. Connected with this Samhita, and in the manuscripts sometimes forming its second or its fifth book, is the Maitrayana (also called Maitrayaniya and Maitri) Upanishad. The ritual explanation of the White Yajurveda is to be found in extraordinary fulness in the Çatapatha Brahmana., the "Brahmana of the Hundred Paths," so called because it consists of one hundred lectures (adhyaya). This work is, next to the Rigveda, the most important production in the whole range of Vedic literature. Its text has come down in two recensions, those of the Madhyamdina school, edited by Professor Weber, and of the Kanva school, which is in process of being edited by Professor Eggeling. The Madhyamdina recension consists of fourteen books, while the Kanva has seventeen. The first nine of the former, corresponding to the original eighteen books of the Vajasaneyi Samhita, doubtless form the oldest part. The fact that Book XII. is called madhyama, or "middle one," shows that the last five books (or possibly only X.-XIII.) were at one time regarded as a separate part of the Brahmana. Book X. treats of the mystery of the fire-altar (agnirahasya), XI. is a sort of recapitulation of the preceding ritual, while XII. and XIII. deal with various supplementary matters. The last book forms the Aranyaka, the six concluding chapters of which are the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. Books VI.-X. of the Çatapatha Brahmana occupy a peculiar position. Treating of the construction of the fire-altar, they recognise the teaching of Çandilya as their highest authority, Yajnavalkya not even being mentioned; while the peoples who are named, the Gandharas, Salvas, Kekayas, belong to the north-west. In the other books Yajnavalkya is the highest authority, while hardly any but Eastern peoples, or those of the middle of Hindustan, the Kuru-Panchalas, Kosalas, Videhas, Srinjayas, are named. That the original authorship of the five Çandilya books was different from that of the others is indicated by a number of linguistic differences, which the hand of a later editor failed to remove. Thus the use of the perfect as a narrative tense is unknown to the Çandilya books (as well as to XIII.). The geographical data of the Çatapatha Brahmana point to the land of the Kuru-Panchalas being still the centre of Brahmanical culture. Janamejaya is here celebrated as a king of the Kurus, and the most renowned Brahmanical teacher of the age, Aruni, is expressly stated to have been a Panchala. Nevertheless, it is clear that the Brahmanical system had by this time spread to the countries to the east of Madhyadeça, to Kosala, with its capital, Ayodhya (Oudh), and Videha (Tirhut or Northern Behar), with its capital, Mithila. The court of King Janaka of Videha was thronged with Brahmans from the Kuru-Panchala country. The tournaments of argument which were here held form a prominent feature in the later books of the Çatapatha Brahmana. The hero of these is Yajnavalkya, who, himself a pupil of Aruni, is regarded as the chief spiritual authority in the Brahmana (excepting Books VI.-X.). Certain passages of the Brahmana render it highly probable that Yajnavalkya was a native of Videha. The fact that its leading authority, who thus appears to have belonged to this Eastern country, is represented as vanquishing the most distinguished teachers of the West in argument, points to the redaction of the White Yajurveda having taken place in this eastern region. The Çatapatha Brahmana contains reminiscences of the days when the country of Videha was not as yet Brahmanised. Thus Book I. relates a legend in which three stages in the eastward migration of the Aryans can be clearly distinguished. Mathava, the king of Videgha (the older form of Videha), whose family priest was Gotama Rahugana, was at one time on the Sarasvati. Agni Vaiçvanara (here typical of Brahmanical culture) thence went burning along this earth towards the east, followed by Mathava and his priest, till he came to the river Sadanira (probably the modern Gandak, a tributary running into the Ganges near Patna), which flows from the northern mountain, and which he did not burn over. This river Brahmans did not cross in former times, thinking "it has not been burnt over by Agni Vaiçvanara." At that time the land to the eastward was very uncultivated and marshy, but now many Brahmans are there, and it is highly cultivated, for the Brahmans have caused Agni to taste it through sacrifices. Mathava the Videgha then said to Agni, "Where am I to abide?" "To the east of this river be thy abode," he replied. Even now, the writer adds, this river forms the boundary between the Kosalas (Oudh) and the Videhas (Tirhut). The Vajasaneyi school of the White Yajurveda evidently felt a sense of the superiority of their sacrificial lore, which grew up in these eastern countries. Blame is frequently expressed in the Çatapatha Brahmana of the Adhvaryu priests of the Charaka school. The latter is meant as a comprehensive term embracing the three older schools of the Black Yajurveda, the Kathas, the Kapishthalas, and the Maitrayaniyas. As Buddhism first obtained a firm footing in Kosala and Videha, it is interesting to inquire in what relation the Çatapatha Brahmana stands to the beginnings of that doctrine. In this connection it is to be noted that the words Arhat, Çramana, and Pratibuddha occur here for the first time, but as yet without the technical sense which they have in Buddhistic literature. Again, in the lists of teachers given in the Brahmana mention is made with special frequency of the Gautamas, a family name used by the Çakyas of Kapilavastu, among whom Buddha was born. Certain allusions are also suggestive of the beginnings of the Sankhya doctrine; for mention is several times made of a teacher called Asuri, and according to tradition Asuri is the name of a leading authority for the Sankhya system. If we inquire as to how far the legends of our Brahmana contain the germs of the later epic tales, we find that there is indeed some slight connection. Janamejaya, the celebrated king of the Kurus in the Mahabharata, is mentioned here for the first time. The Pandus, however, who proved victorious in the epic war, are not to be met with in this any more than in the other Brahmanas; and Arjuna, the name of their chief, is still an appellation of Indra. But as the epic Arjuna is a son of Indra, his origin is doubtless to be traced to this epithet of Indra. Janaka, the famous king of Videha, is in all probability identical with the father of Sita, the heroine of the Ramayana. Of two legends which furnished the classical poet Kalidasa with the plots of two of his most famous dramas, one is told in detail, and the other is at least alluded to. The story of the love and separation of Pururavas and Urvaçi, already dimly shadowed forth in a hymn of the Rigveda, is here related with much more fulness; while Bharata, son of Duhshanta and of the nymph Çakuntala, also appears on the scene in this Brahmana. A most interesting legend which reappears in the Mahabharata, that of the Deluge, is here told for the first time in Indian literature, though it seems to be alluded to in the Atharva-veda, while it is known even to the Avesta. This myth is generally regarded as derived from a Semitic source. It tells how Manu once came into possession of a small fish, which asked him to rear it, and promised to save him from the coming flood. Having built a ship in accordance with the fish's advice, he entered it when the deluge arose, and was finally guided to the Northern Mountain by the fish, to whose horn he had tied his ship. Manu subsequently became the progenitor of mankind through his daughter. The Çatapatha Brahmana is thus a mine of important data and noteworthy narratives. Internal evidence shows it to belong to a late period of the Brahmana age. Its style, as compared with the earlier works of the same class, displays some progress towards facility and clearness. Its treatment of the sacrificial ceremonial, which is essentially the same in the Brahmana portions of the Black Yajurveda, is throughout more lucid and systematic. On the theosophic side, too, we find the idea of the unity in the universe more fully developed than in any other Brahmana work, while its Upanishad is the finest product of Vedic philosophy. To the Atharva-veda is attached the Gopatha Brahmana, though it has no particular connection with that Samhita. This Brahmana consists of two books, the first containing five chapters, the second six. Both parts are very late, for they were composed after the Vaitana Sutra and practically without any Atharvan tradition. The matter of the former half, while not corresponding or following the order of the sacrifice in any ritual text, is to a considerable extent original, the rest being borrowed from Books XI. and XII. of the Çatapatha Brahmana, besides a few passages from the Aitareya. The main motive of this portion is the glorification of the Atharva-veda and of the fourth or brahman priest. The mention of the god Çiva points to its belonging to the post-Vedic rather than to the Brahmana period. Its presupposing the Atharva-veda in twenty books, and containing grammatical matters of a very advanced type, are other signs of lateness. The latter half bears more the stamp of a regular Brahmana, being a fairly connected account of the ritual in the sacrificial order of the Vaitana Çrauta Sutra; but it is for the most part a compilation. The ordinary historical relation of Brahmana and Sutra is here reversed, the second book of the Gopatha Brahmana being based on the Vaitana Sutra, which stands to it practically in the relation of a Samhita. About two-thirds of its matter have already been shown to be taken from older texts. The Aitareya and Kaushitaki Brahmanas have been chiefly exploited, and to a less extent the Maitrayani and Taittiriya Samhitas. A few passages are derived from the Çatapatha, and even the Panchavimça Brahmana. Though the Upanishads generally form a part of the Brahmanas, being a continuation of their speculative side (jnana-kanda), they really represent a new religion, which is in virtual opposition to the ritual or practical side (karma-kanda). Their aim is no longer the obtainment of earthly happiness and afterwards bliss in the abode of Yama by sacrificing correctly to the gods, but release from mundane existence by the absorption of the individual soul in the world-soul through correct knowledge. Here, therefore, the sacrificial ceremonial has become useless and speculative knowledge all-important. The essential theme of the Upanishads is the nature of the world-soul. Their conception of it represents the final stage in the development from the world-man, Purusha, of the Rigveda to the world-soul, Atman; from the personal creator, Prajapati, to the impersonal source of all being, Brahma. Atman in the Rigveda means no more than "breath"; wind, for instance, being spoken of as the atman of Varuna. In the Brahmanas it came to mean "soul" or "self." In one of their speculations the pranas or "vital airs," which are supposed to be based on the atman, are identified with the gods, and so an atman comes to be attributed to the universe. In one of the later books of the Çatapatha Brahmana (X. vi. 3) this atman, which has already arrived at a high degree of abstraction, is said to "pervade this universe." Brahma (neuter) in the Rigveda signified nothing more than "prayer" or "devotion." But even in the oldest Brahmanas it has come to have the sense of "universal holiness," as manifested in prayer, priest, and sacrifice. In the Upanishads it is the holy principle which animates nature. Having a long subsequent history, this word is a very epitome of the evolution of religious thought in India. These two conceptions, Atman and Brahma, are commonly treated as synonymous in the Upanishads. But, strictly speaking, Brahma, the older term, represents the cosmical principle which pervades the universe, Atman the psychical principle manifested in man; and the latter, as the known, is used to explain the former as the unknown. The Atman under the name of the Eternal (aksharam) is thus described in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (III. viii. 8, 11):-- "It is not large, and not minute; not short, not long; without blood, without fat; without shadow, without darkness; without wind, without ether; not adhesive, not tangible; without smell, without taste; without eyes, ears, voice, or mind; without heat, breath, or mouth; without personal or family name; unaging, undying, without fear, immortal, dustless, not uncovered or covered; with nothing before, nothing behind, nothing within. It consumes no one and is consumed by no one. It is the unseen seer, the unheard hearer, the unthought thinker, the unknown knower. There is no other seer, no other hearer, no other thinker, no other knower. That is the Eternal in which space (akaça) is woven and which is interwoven with it." Here, for the first time in the history of human thought, we find the Absolute grasped and proclaimed. A poetical account of the nature of the Atman is given by the Kathaka Upanishad in the following stanzas:-- That whence the sun's orb rises up, And that in which it sinks again: In it the gods are all contained, Beyond it none can ever pass (iv. 9). Its form can never be to sight apparent, Not any one may with his eye behold it: By heart and mind and soul alone they grasp it, And those who know it thus become immortal (vi. 9). Since not by speech and not by thought, Not by the eye can it be reached: How else may it be understood But only when one says "it is"? (vi. 12). The place of the more personal Prajapati is taken in the Upanishads by the Atman as a creative power. Thus the Brihadaranyaka (I. iv.) relates that in the beginning the Atman or the Brahma was this universe. It was afraid in its loneliness and felt no pleasure. Desiring a second being, it became man and woman, whence the human race was produced. It then proceeded to produce male and female animals in a similar way; finally creating water, fire, the gods, and so forth. The author then proceeds in a more exalted strain:-- "It (the Atman) is here all-pervading down to the tips of the nails. One does not see it any more than a razor hidden in its case or fire in its receptacle. For it does not appear as a whole. When it breathes, it is called breath; when it speaks, voice; when it hears, ear; when it thinks, mind. These are merely the names of its activities. He who worships the one or the other of these, has not (correct) knowledge.... One should worship it as the Self. For in it all these (breath, etc.) become one." In one of the later Upanishads, the Çvetaçvatara (iv. 10), the notion, so prominent in the later Vedanta system, that the material world is an illusion (maya), is first met with. The world is here explained as an illusion produced by Brahma as a conjuror (mayin). This notion is, however, inherent even in the oldest Upanishads. It is virtually identical with the teaching of Plato that the things of experience are only the shadow of the real things, and with the teaching of Kant, that they are only phenomena of the thing in itself. The great fundamental doctrine of the Upanishads is the identity of the individual atman with the world Atman. It is most forcibly expressed in a frequently repeated sentence of the Chhandogya Upanishad (vi. 8-16): "This whole world consists of it: that is the Real, that is the Soul, that art thou, O Çvetaketu." In that famous formula, "That art thou" (tat tvam asi), all the teachings of the Upanishads are summed up. The Brihadaranyaka (I. iv. 6) expresses the same doctrine thus: "Whoever knows this, 'I am brahma' (aham brahma asmi), becomes the All. Even the gods are not able to prevent him from becoming it. For he becomes their Self (atman)." This identity was already recognised in the Çatapatha Brahmana (X. vi. 3): "Even as the smallest granule of millet, so is this golden Purusha in the heart.... That self of the spirit is my self: on passing from hence I shall obtain that Self." We find everywhere in these treatises a restless striving to grasp the true nature of the pantheistic Self, now through one metaphor, now through another. Thus (Brih. Up. II. iv.) the wise Yajnavalkya, about to renounce the world and retire to the forest, replies to the question of his wife, Maitreyi, with the words: "As a lump of salt thrown into the water would dissolve and could not be taken out again, while the water, wherever tasted, would be salt, so is this great being endless, unlimited, simply compacted of cognition. Arising out of these elements, it disappears again in them. After death there is no consciousness;" for, as he further explains, when the duality on which consciousness is based disappears, consciousness must necessarily cease. In another passage of the same Upanishad (II. i. 20) we read: "Just as the spider goes out of itself by means of its thread, as tiny sparks leap out of the fire, so from the Atman issue all vital airs, all worlds, all gods, all beings." Here, again, is a stanza from the Mundaka (III. ii. 8):-- As rivers flow and disappear at last In ocean's waters, name and form renouncing, So, too, the sage, released from name and form, Is merged in the divine and highest spirit. In a passage of the Brihadaranyaka (III. vii.) Yajnavalkya describes the Atman as the "inner guide" (antaryamin): "Who is in all beings, different from all beings, who guides all beings within, that is thy Self, the inward guide, immortal." The same Upanishad contains an interesting conversation, in which King Ajataçatru of Kaçi (Benares) instructs the Brahman, Balaki Gargya, that Brahma is not the spirit (purusha) which is in sun, moon, wind, and other natural phenomena, or even in the (waking) soul (atman), but is either the dreaming soul, which is creative, assuming any form at pleasure, or, in the highest stage, the soul in dreamless sleep, for here all phenomena have disappeared. This is the first and the last condition of Brahma, in which no world exists, all material existence being only the phantasms of the dreaming world-soul. Of somewhat similar purport is a passage of the Chhandogya (viii. 7-12), where Prajapati is represented as teaching the nature of the Atman in three stages. The soul in the body as reflected in a mirror or water is first identified with Brahma, then the dreaming soul, and, lastly, the soul in dreamless sleep. How generally accepted the pantheistic theory must have become by the time the disputations at the court of King Janaka took place, is indicated by the form in which questions are put. Thus two different sages in the Brihadaranyaka (iii. 4, 5) successively ask Yajnavalkya in the same words: "Explain to us the Brahma which is manifest and not hidden, the Atman that dwells in everything." With the doctrine that true knowledge led to supreme bliss by the absorption of the individual soul in Brahma went hand in hand the theory of transmigration (samsara). That theory is developed in the oldest Upanishads; it must have been firmly established by the time Buddhism arose, for Buddha accepted it without question. Its earliest form is found in the Çatapatha Brahmana, where the notion of being born again after death and dying repeatedly is coupled with that of retribution. Thus it is here said that those who have correct knowledge and perform a certain sacrifice are born again after death for immortality, while those who have not such knowledge and do not perform this sacrifice are reborn again and again, becoming the prey of Death. The notion here expressed does not go beyond repeated births and deaths in the next world. It is transformed to the doctrine of transmigration in the Upanishads by supposing rebirth to take place in this world. In the Brihadaranyaka we further meet with the beginnings of the doctrine of karma, or "action," which regulates the new birth, and makes it depend on a man's own deeds. When the body returns to the elements, nothing of the individuality is here said to remain but the karma, according to which a man becomes good or bad. This is, perhaps, the germ of the Buddhistic doctrine, which, though denying the existence of soul altogether, allows karma to continue after death and to determine the next birth. The most important and detailed account of the theory of transmigration which we possess from Vedic times is supplied by the Chhandogya Upanishad. The forest ascetic possessed of knowledge and faith, it is here said, after death enters the devayana, the "path of the gods," which leads to absorption in Brahma, while the householder who has performed sacrifice and good works goes by the pitriyana or "path of the Fathers" to the moon, where he remains till the consequences of his actions are exhausted. He then returns to earth, being first born again as a plant and afterwards as a man of one of the three highest castes. Here we have a double retribution, first in the next world, then by transmigration in this. The former is a survival of the old Vedic belief about the future life. The wicked are born again as outcasts (chandalas), dogs or swine. The account of the Brihadaranyaka (VI. ii. 15-16) is similar. Those who have true knowledge and faith pass through the world of the gods and the sun to the world of Brahma, whence there is no return. Those who practise sacrifice and good works pass through the world of the Fathers to the moon, whence they return to earth, being born again as men. Others become birds, beasts, and reptiles. The view of the Kaushitaki Upanishad (i. 2-3) is somewhat different. Here all who die go to the moon, whence some go by the "path of the Fathers" to Brahma, while others return to various forms of earthly existence, ranging from man to worm, according to the quality of their works and the degree of their knowledge. The Kathaka, one of the most remarkable and beautiful of the Upanishads, treats the question of life after death in the form of a legend. Nachiketas, a young Brahman, visits the realm of Yama, who offers him the choice of three boons. For the third he chooses the answer to the question, whether man exists after death or no. Death replies: "Even the gods have doubted about this; it is a subtle point; choose another boon." After vain efforts to evade the question by offering Nachiketas earthly power and riches, Yama at last yields to his persistence and reveals the secret. Life and death, he explains, are only different phases of development. True knowledge, which consists in recognising the identity of the individual soul with the world soul, raises its possessor beyond the reach of death:-- When every passion vanishes That nestles in the human heart, Then man gains immortality, Then Brahma is obtained by him (vi. 14). The story of the temptation of Nachiketas to choose the goods of this world in preference to the highest knowledge is probably the prototype of the legend of the temptation of Buddha by Mara or Death. Both by resisting the temptation obtain enlightenment. It must not of course be supposed that the Upanishads, either as a whole or individually, offer a complete and consistent conception of the world logically developed. They are rather a mixture of half-poetical, half-philosophical fancies, of dialogues and disputations dealing tentatively with metaphysical questions. Their speculations were only later reduced to a system in the Vedanta philosophy. The earliest of them can hardly be dated later than about 600 B.C., since some important doctrines first met with in them are presupposed by Buddhism. They may be divided chronologically, on internal evidence, into four classes. The oldest group, consisting, in chronological order, of the Brihadaranyaka, Chhandogya, Taittiriya, Aitareya, Kaushitaki, is written in prose which still suffers from the awkwardness of the Brahmana style. A transition is formed by the Kena, which is partly in verse and partly in prose, to a decidedly later class, the Kathaka, Iça, Çvetaçvatara, Mundaka, Mahanarayana, which are metrical, and in which the Upanishad doctrine is no longer developing, but has become fixed. These are more attractive from the literary point of view. Even those of the older class acquire a peculiar charm from their liveliness, enthusiasm, and freedom from pedantry, while their language often rises to the level of eloquence. The third class, comprising the Praçna, Maitrayaniya, and Mandukya, reverts to the use of prose, which is, however, of a much less archaic type than that of the first class, and approaches that of classical Sanskrit writers. The fourth class consists of the later Atharvan Upanishads, some of which are composed in prose, others in verse. The Aitareya, one of the shortest of the Upanishads (extending to only about four octavo pages), consists of three chapters. The first represents the world as a creation of the Atman (also called Brahma), and man as its highest manifestation. It is based on the Purusha hymn of the Rigveda, but the primeval man is in the Upanishad described as having been produced by the Atman from the waters which it created. The Atman is here said to occupy three abodes in man, the senses, mind, and heart, to which respectively correspond the three conditions of waking, dreaming, and deep sleep. The second chapter treats of the threefold birth of the Atman. The end of transmigration is salvation, which is represented as an immortal existence in heaven. The last chapter dealing with the nature of the Atman states that "consciousness (prajna) is Brahma." The Kaushitaki Upanishad is a treatise of considerable length divided into four chapters. The first deals with the two paths traversed by souls after death in connection with transmigration; the second with Prana or life as a symbol of the Atman. The last two, while discussing the doctrine of Brahma, contain a disquisition about the dependence of the objects of sense on the organs of sense, and of the latter on unconscious life (prana) and conscious life (prajnatma). Those who aim at redeeming knowledge are therefore admonished not to seek after objects or subjective faculties, but only the subject of cognition and action, which is described with much power as the highest god, and at the same time as the Atman within us. The Upanishads of the Samaveda start from the saman or chant, just as those of the Rigveda from the uktha or hymn recited by the Hotri priest, in order, by interpreting it allegorically, to arrive at a knowledge of the Atman or Brahma. The fact that the Upanishads have the same basis, which is, moreover, largely treated in a similar manner, leads to the conclusion that the various Vedic schools found a common body of oral tradition which they shaped into dogmatic texts-books or Upanishads in their own way. Thus the Chhandogya, which is equal in importance, and only slightly inferior in extent, to the Brihadaranyaka, bears clear traces, like the latter, of being made up of collections of floating materials. Each of its eight chapters forms an independent whole, followed by supplementary pieces often but slightly connected with the main subject-matter. The first two chapters consist of mystical interpretations of the saman and its chief part, called Udgitha ("loud song"). A supplement to the second chapter treats, among other subjects, of the origin of the syllable om, and of the three stages of religious life, those of the Brahman pupil, the householder, and the ascetic (to which later the religious mendicant was added as a fourth). The third chapter in the main deals with Brahma as the sun of the universe, the natural sun being its manifestation. The infinite Brahma is further described as dwelling, whole and undivided, in the heart of man. The way in which Brahma is to be attained is then described, and the great fundamental dogma of the identity of Brahma with the Atman (or, as we might say, of God and Soul) is declared. The chapter concludes with a myth which forms a connecting link between the cosmogonic conceptions of the Rigveda and those of the law-book of Manu. The fourth chapter, containing discussions about wind, breath, and other phenomena connected with Brahma, also teaches how the soul makes its way to Brahma after death. The first half of chapter v. is almost identical with the beginning of chapter vi. of the Brihadaranyaka. It is chiefly noteworthy for the theory of transmigration which it contains. The second half of the chapter is important as the earliest statement of the doctrine that the manifold world is unreal. The sat by desire produced from itself the three primary elements, heat, water, food (the later number being five--ether, air, fire, water, earth). As individual soul (jiva-atman) it entered into these, which, by certain partial combinations called "triplication," became various products (vikara) or phenomena. But the latter are a mere name. Sat is the only reality, it is the Atman: "Thou art that." Chapter vii. enumerates sixteen forms in which Brahma may be adored, rising by gradation from naman, "name," to bhuman, "infinity," which is the all-in-all and the Atman within us. The first half of the last chapter discusses the Atman in the heart and the universe, as well as how to attain it. The concluding portion of the chapter distinguishes the false from the true Atman, illustrated by the three stages in which it appears--in the material body, in dreaming, and in sound sleep. In the latter stage we have the true Atman, in which the distinction between subject and object has disappeared. To the Samaveda also belongs a very short treatise which was long called the Talavakara Upanishad, from the school to which it was attached, but later, when it became separated from that school, received the name of Kena, from its initial word. It consists of two distinct parts. The second, composed in prose and much older, describes the relation of the Vedic gods to Brahma, representing them as deriving their power from and entirely dependent on the latter. The first part, which is metrical and belongs to the period of fully developed Vedanta doctrine, distinguishes from the qualified Brahma, which is an object of worship, the unqualified Brahma, which is unknowable:-- To it no eye can penetrate, Nor speech nor thought can ever reach: It rests unknown; we cannot see How any one may teach it us. The various Upanishads of the Black Yajurveda all bear the stamp of lateness. The Maitrayana is a prose work of considerable extent, in which occasional stanzas are interspersed. It consists of seven chapters, the seventh and the concluding eight sections of the sixth forming a supplement. The fact that it retains the orthographical and euphonic peculiarities of the Maitrayana school, gives this Upanishad an archaic appearance. But its many quotations from other Upanishads, the occurrence of several late words, the developed Sankhya doctrine presupposed by it, distinct references to anti-Vedic heretical schools, all combine to render the late character of this work undoubted. It is, in fact, a summing up of the old Upanishad doctrines with an admixture of ideas derived from the Sankhya system and from Buddhism. The main body of the treatise expounds the nature of the Atman, communicated to King Brihadratha of the race of Ikshvaku (probably identical with the king of that name mentioned in the Ramayana), who declaims at some length on the misery and transitoriness of earthly existence. Though pessimism is not unknown to the old Upanishads, it is much more pronounced here, doubtless in consequence of Sankhya and Buddhistic influence. The subject is treated in the form of three questions. The answer to the first, how the Atman enters the body, is that Prajapati enters in the form of the five vital airs in order to animate the lifeless bodies created by him. The second question is, How does the supreme soul become the individual soul (bhutatman)? This is answered rather in accordance with the Sankhya than the Vedanta doctrine. Overcome by the three qualities of matter (prakriti), the Atman, forgetting its real nature, becomes involved in self-consciousness and transmigration. The third question is, How is deliverance from this state of misery possible? This is answered in conformity with neither Vedanta nor Sankhya doctrine, but in a reactionary spirit. Only those who observe the old requirements of Brahmanism, the rules of caste and the religious orders (açramas), are declared capable of attaining salvation by knowledge, penance, and meditation on Brahma. The chief gods, that is to say, the triad of the Brahmana period, Fire, Wind, Sun, the three abstractions, Time, Breath, Food, and the three popular gods, Brahma, Rudra (i.e. Çiva), and Vishnu are explained as manifestations of Brahma. The remainder of this Upanishad is supplementary, but contains several passages of considerable interest. We have here a cosmogonic myth, like those of the Brahmanas, in which the three qualities of matter, Tamas, Rajas, Sattva, are connected with Rudra, Brahma, and Vishnu, and which is in other respects very remarkable as a connecting link between the philosophy of the Rigveda and the later Sankhya system. The sun is further represented as the external, and prana (breath) as the internal, symbol of the Atman, their worship being recommended by means of the sacred syllable om, the three "utterances" (vyahritis) bhur, bhuvah, svar, and the famous Savitri stanza. As a means of attaining Brahma we find a recommendation of Yoga or the ascetic practices leading to a state of mental concentration and bordering on trance. The information we here receive of these practices is still undeveloped compared with the later system. In addition to the three conditions of Brahma, waking, dreaming, and deep sleep, mention is made of a fourth (turiya) and highest stage. The Upanishad concludes with the declaration that the Atman entered the world of duality because it wished to taste both truth and illusion. Older than the Maitrayana, which borrows from them, are two other Upanishads of the Black Yajurveda, the Kathaka and the Çvetaçvatara. The former contains some 120 and the latter some 110 stanzas. The Kathaka deals with the legend of Nachiketas, which is told in the Kathaka portion of the Taittiriya Brahmana, and a knowledge of which it presupposes. This is indicated by the fact that it begins with the same words as the Brahmana story. The treatise appears to have consisted originally of the first only of its two chapters. For the second, with its more developed notions about Yoga and its much more pronounced view as to the unreality of phenomena, looks like a later addition. The first contains an introductory narrative, an account of the Atman, of its embodiment and final return by means of Yoga. The second chapter, though less well arranged, on the whole corresponds in matter with the first. Its fourth section, while discussing the nature of the Atman, identifies both soul (purusha) and matter (prakriti) with it. The fifth section deals with the manifestation of the Atman in the world, and especially in man. The way in which it at the same time remains outside them in its full integrity and is not affected by the suffering of living beings, is strikingly illustrated by the analogy of both light and air, which pervade space and yet embrace every object, and of the sun, the eye of the universe, which remains free from the blemishes of all other eyes outside of it. In the last section Yoga is taught to be the means of attaining the highest goal. The gradation of mental faculties here described is of great interest for the history of the Sankhya and Yoga system. An unconscious contradiction runs through this discussion, inasmuch as though the Atman is regarded as the all-in-all, a sharp contrast is drawn between soul and matter. It is the contradiction between the later Vedanta and the Sankhya-Yoga systems of philosophy. According to its own statement, the Çvetaçvatara Upanishad derives its name from an individual author, and the tradition which attributes it to one of the schools of the Black Yajurveda hardly seems to have a sufficient foundation. Its confused arrangement, the irregularities and arbitrary changes of its metres, the number of interpolated quotations which it contains, make the assumption likely that the work in its present form is not the work of a single author. In its present form it is certainly later than the Kathaka, since it contains several passages which must be referred to that work, besides many stanzas borrowed from it with or without variation. Its lateness is further indicated by the developed theory of Yoga which it contains, besides the more or less definite form in which it exhibits various Vedanta doctrines either unknown to or only foreshadowed in the earlier Upanishads. Among these may be mentioned the destruction of the world by Brahma at the end of a cosmic age (kalpa), as well as its periodic renewal out of Brahma, and especially the explanation of the world as an illusion (maya) produced by Brahma. At the same time the author shows a strange predilection for the personified forms of Brahma as Savitri, Içana, or Rudra. Though Çiva has not yet become the name of Rudra, its frequent use as an adjective connected with the latter shows that it is in course of becoming fixed as the proper name of the highest god. In this Upanishad we meet with a number of the terms and fundamental notions of the Sankhya, though the point of view is thoroughly Vedantist; matter (prakriti), for instance, being represented as an illusion produced by Brahma. To the White Yajurveda is attached the longest, and, beside the Chhandogya, the most important of the Upanishads. It bears even clearer traces than that work of being a conglomerate of what must originally have been separate treatises. It is divided into three parts, each containing two chapters. The last part is designated, even in the tradition of the commentaries, as a supplement (Khila-kanda), a statement fully borne out by the contents. That the first and second parts were also originally independent of each other is sufficiently proved by both containing the legend of Yajnavalkya and his two wives in almost identical words throughout. To each of these parts (as well as to Book x. of the Çatapatha Brahmana) a successive list (vamça) of teachers is attached. A comparison of these lists seems to justify the conclusion that the first part (called Madhukanda) and the second (Yajnavalkya-kanda) existed during nine generations as independent Upanishads within the school of the White Yajurveda, and were then combined by a teacher named Agniveçya; the third part, which consists of all kinds of supplementary matter, being subsequently added. These lists further make the conclusion probable that the leading teachers of the ritual tradition (Brahmanas) were different from those of the philosophical tradition (Upanishads). Beginning with an allegorical interpretation of the most important sacrifice, the Açvamedha (horse-sacrifice), as the universe, the first chapter proceeds to deal with prana (breath) as a symbol of soul, and then with the creation of the world out of the Atman or Brahma, insisting on the dependence of all existence on the Supreme Soul, which appears in every individual as his self. The polemical attitude adopted against the worship of the gods is characteristic, showing that the passage belongs to an early period, in which the doctrine of the superiority of the Atman to the gods was still asserting itself. The next chapter deals with the nature of the Atman and its manifestations, purusha and prana. The second part of the Upanishad consists of four philosophical discussions, in which Yajnavalkya is the chief speaker. The first (iii. 1-9) is a great disputation, in which the sage proves his superiority to nine successive interlocutors. One of the most interesting conclusions here arrived at is that Brahma is theoretically unknowable, but can be comprehended practically. The second discourse is a dialogue between King Janaka and Yajnavalkya, in which the latter shows the untenableness of six definitions set up by other teachers as to the nature of Brahma; for instance, that it is identical with Breath or Mind. He finally declares that the Atman can only be described negatively, being intangible, indestructible, independent, immovable. The third discourse (iv. 3-4) is another dialogue between Janaka and Yajnavalkya. It presents a picture of the soul in the conditions of waking, dreaming, deep sleep, dying, transmigration, and salvation. For wealth of illustration, fervour of conviction, beauty and elevation of thought, this piece is unequalled in the Upanishads or any other work of Indian literature. Its literary effect is heightened by the numerous stanzas with which it is interspersed. These are, however, doubtless later additions. The dreaming soul is thus described:-- Leaving its lower nest in breath's protection, And upward from that nest, immortal, soaring, Where'er it lists it roves about immortal, The golden-pinioned only swan of spirit (IV. iii. 13). It roves in dream condition up and downward, Divinely many shapes and forms assuming (ib. 14). Then follows an account of the dreamless state of the soul:-- As a falcon or an eagle, having flown about in the air, exhausted folds together its wings and prepares to alight, so the spirit hastes to that condition in which, asleep, it feels no desire and sees no dream (19). This is its essential form, in which it rises above desire, is free from evil and without fear. For as one embraced by a beloved woman wots not of anything without or within, so also the soul embraced by the cognitional Self wots not of anything without or within (21). With regard to the souls of those who are not saved, the view of the writer appears to be that after death they enter a new body immediately and without any intervening retribution in the other world, in exact accordance with their intellectual and moral quality. As a caterpillar, when it has reached the point of a leaf, makes a new beginning and draws itself across, so the soul, after casting off the body and letting go ignorance, makes a new beginning and draws itself across (IV. iv. 3). As a goldsmith takes the material of an image and hammers out of it another newer and more beautiful form, so also the soul after casting off the body and letting go ignorance, creates for itself another newer and more beautiful form, either that of the Fathers or the Gandharvas or the Gods, or Prajapati or Brahma, or other beings (IV. iv. 4). But the vital airs of him who is saved, who knows himself to be identical with Brahma, do not depart, for he is absorbed in Brahma and is Brahma. As a serpent's skin, dead and cast off, lies upon an ant-hill, so his body then lies; but that which is bodiless and immortal, the life, is pure Brahma, is pure light (IV. iv. 7). The fourth discourse is a dialogue between Yajnavalkya and his wife Maitreyi, before the former, about to renounce the world, retires to the solitude of the forest. There are several indications that it is a secondary recension of the same conversation occurring in a previous chapter (II. iv.). The first chapter of the third or supplementary part consists of fifteen sections, which are often quite short, are mostly unconnected in matter, and appear to be of very different age. The second chapter, however, forms a long and important treatise (identical with that found in the Chhandogya) on the doctrine of transmigration. The views here expressed are so much at variance with those of Yajnavalkya that this text must have originated in another Vedic school, and have been loosely attached to this Upanishad owing to the peculiar importance of its contents. The preceding and following section, which are connected with it, and are also found in the Chhandogya, must have been added at the same time. Not only is the longest Upanishad attached to the White Yajurveda, but also one of the very shortest, consisting of only eighteen stanzas. This is the Iça, which is so called from its initial word. Though forming the last chapter of the Vajasaneyi Samhita, it belongs to a rather late period. It is about contemporaneous with the latest parts of the Brihadaranyaka, is more developed in many points than the Kathaka, but seems to be older than the Çvetaçvatara. Its leading motive is to contrast him who knows himself to be the same as the Atman with him who does not possess true knowledge. It affords an excellent survey of the fundamental doctrines of the Vedanta philosophy. A large and indefinite number of Upanishads is attributed to the Atharva-veda, but the most authoritative list recognises twenty-seven altogether. They are for the most part of very late origin, being post-Vedic, and, all but three, contemporaneous with the Puranas. One of them is actually a Muhammadan treatise entitled the Alla Upanishad! The older Upanishads which belong to the first three Vedas were, with a few exceptions like the Çvetaçvatara, the dogmatic text-books of actual Vedic schools, and received their names from those schools, being connected with and supplementary to the ritual Brahmanas. The Upanishads of the Atharva-veda, on the other hand, are with few exceptions like the Mandukya and the Jabala, no longer connected with Vedic schools, but derive their names from their subject-matter or some other circumstance. They appear for the most part to represent the views of theosophic, mystic, ascetic, or sectarian associations, who wished to have an Upanishad of their own in imitation of the old Vedic schools. They became attached to the Atharva-veda not from any internal connection, but partly because the followers of the Atharva-veda desired to become possessed of dogmatic text-books of their own, and partly because the fourth Veda was not protected from the intrusion of foreign elements by the watchfulness of religious guilds like the old Vedic schools. The fundamental doctrine common to all the Upanishads of the Atharva-veda is developed by most of them in various special directions. They may accordingly be divided into four categories which run chronologically parallel with one another, each containing relatively old and late productions. The first group, as directly investigating the nature of the Atman, has a scope similar to that of the Upanishads of the other Vedas, and goes no further than the latter in developing its main thesis. The next group, taking the fundamental doctrine for granted, treats of absorption in the Atman through ascetic meditation (yoga) based on the component parts of the sacred syllable om. These Upanishads are almost without exception composed in verse and are quite short, consisting on the average of about twenty stanzas. In the third category the life of the religious mendicant (sannyasin), as a practical consequence of the Upanishad doctrine, is recommended and described. These Upanishads, too, are short, but are written in prose, though with an admixture of verse. The last group is sectarian in character, interpreting the popular gods Çiva (under various names, such as Içana, Maheçvara, Mahadeva) and Vishnu (as Narayana and Nrisimha or "Man-lion") as personifications of the Atman. The different Avatars of Vishnu are here regarded as human manifestations of the Atman. The oldest and most important of these Atharvan Upanishads, as representing the Vedanta doctrine most faithfully, are the Mundaka, the Praçna, and to a less degree the Mandukya. The first two come nearest to the Upanishads of the older Vedas, and are much quoted by Badarayana and Çankara, the great authorities of the later Vedanta philosophy. They are the only original and legitimate Upanishads of the Atharva. The Mundaka derives its name from being the Upanishad of the tonsured (munda), an association of ascetics who shaved their heads, as the Buddhist monks did later. It is one of the most popular of the Upanishads, not owing to the originality of its contents, which are for the most part derived from older texts, but owing to the purity with which it reproduces the old Vedanta doctrine, and the beauty of the stanzas in which it is composed. It presupposes, above all, the Chhandogya Upanishad, and in all probability the Brihadaranyaka, the Taittiriya, and the Kathaka. Having several important passages in common with the Çvetaçvatara and the Brihannarayana of the Black Yajurveda, it probably belongs to the same epoch, coming between the two in order of time. It consists of three parts, which, speaking generally, deal respectively with the preparations for the knowledge of Brahma, the doctrine of Brahma, and the way to Brahma. The Praçna Upanishad, written in prose and apparently belonging to the Pippalada recension of the Atharva-veda, is so called because it treats, in the form of questions (praçna) addressed by six students of Brahma to the sage Pippalada, six main points of the Vedanta doctrine. These questions concern the origin of matter and life (prana) from Prajapati; the superiority of life (prana) above the other vital powers; the nature and divisions of the vital powers; dreaming and dreamless sleep; meditation on the syllable om; and the sixteen parts of man. The Mandukya is a very short prose Upanishad, which would hardly fill two pages of the present book. Though bearing the name of a half-forgotten school of the Rigveda, it is reckoned among the Upanishads of the Atharva-veda. It must date from a considerably later time than the prose Upanishads of the three older Vedas, with the unmethodical treatment and prolixity of which its precision and conciseness are in marked contrast. It has many points of contact with the Maitrayana Upanishad, to which it seems to be posterior. It appears, however, to be older than the rest of the treatises which form the fourth class of the Upanishads of the Atharva-veda. Thus it distinguishes only three morae in the syllable om, and not yet three and a half. The fundamental idea of this Upanishad is that the sacred syllable is an expression of the universe. It is somewhat remarkable that this work is not quoted by Çankara; nevertheless, it not only exercised a great influence on several Upanishads of the Atharva-veda, but was used more than any other Upanishad by the author of the well-known later epitome of the Vedanta doctrine, the Vedanta-sara. It is, however, chiefly important as having given rise to one of the most remarkable products of Indian philosophy, the Karika of Gaudapada. This work consists of more than 200 stanzas divided into four parts, the first of which includes the Mandukya Upanishad. The esteem in which the Karika was held is indicated by the fact that its parts are reckoned as four Upanishads. There is much probability in the assumption that its author is identical with Gaudapada, the teacher of Govinda, whose pupil was the great Vedantist commentator, Çankara (800 A.D.). The point of view of the latter is the same essentially as that of the author of the Karika, and many of the thoughts and figures which begin to appear in the earlier work are in common use in Çankara's commentaries. Çankara may, in fact, be said to have reduced the doctrines of Gaudapada to a system, as did Plato those of Parmenides. Indeed, the two leading ideas which pervade the Indian poem, viz., that there is no duality (advaita) and no becoming (ajati), are, as Professor Deussen points out, identical with those of the Greek philosopher. The first part of the Karika is practically a metrical paraphrase of the Mandukya Upanishad. Peculiar to it is the statement that the world is not an illusion or a development in any sense, but the very nature or essence (svabhava) of Brahma, just as the rays, which are all the same (i.e. light), are not different from the sun. The remainder of the poem is independent of the Upanishad and goes far beyond its doctrines. The second part has the special title of Vaitathya or the "Falseness" of the doctrine of reality. Just as a rope is in the dark mistaken for a snake, so the Atman in the darkness of ignorance is mistaken for the world. Every attempt to imagine the Atman under empirical forms is futile, for every one's idea of it is dependent on his experience of the world. The third part is entitled Advaita, "Non-duality." The identity of the Supreme Soul (Atman) with the individual soul (jiva) is illustrated by comparison with space, and that part of it which is contained in a jar. Arguing against the theory of genesis and plurality, the poet lays down the axiom that nothing can become different from its own nature. The production of the existent (sato janma) is impossible, for that would be produced which already exists. The production of the non-existent (asato janma) is also impossible, for the non-existent is never produced, any more than the son of a barren woman. The last part is entitled Alata-çanti, or "Extinction of the firebrand (circle)," so called from an ingenious comparison made to explain how plurality and genesis seem to exist in the world. If a stick which is glowing at one end is waved about, fiery lines or circles are produced without anything being added to or issuing from the single burning point. The fiery line or circle exists only in the consciousness (vijnana). So, too, the many phenomena of the world are merely the vibrations of the consciousness, which is one. CHAPTER IX THE SUTRAS (Circa 500-200 B.C.) As the Upanishads were a development of the speculative side of the Brahmanas and constituted the textbooks of Vedic dogma, so the Çrauta Sutras form the continuation of their ritual side, though they are not, like the Upanishads, regarded as a part of revelation. A sacred character was never attributed to them, probably because they were felt to be treatises compiled, with the help of oral priestly tradition, from the contents of the Brahmanas solely to meet practical needs. The oldest of them seem to go back to about the time when Buddhism came into being. Indeed it is quite possible that the rise of the rival religion gave the first impetus to the composition of systematic manuals of Brahmanic worship. The Buddhists in their turn must have come to regard Sutras as the type of treatise best adapted for the expression of religious doctrine, for the earliest Pali texts are works of this character. The term Kalpa Sutra is used to designate the whole body of Sutras concerned with religion which belonged to a particular Vedic school. Where such a complete collection has been preserved, the Çrauta Sutra forms its first and most extensive portion. To the Rigveda belong the Çrauta manuals of two Sutra schools (charanas), the Çankhayanas and the Açvalayanas, the former of whom were in later times settled in Northern Gujarat, the latter in the South between the Godavari and the Krishna. The ritual is described in much the same order by both, but the account of the great royal sacrifices is much more detailed in the Çankhayana Çrauta Sutra. The latter, which is closely connected with the Çankhayana Brahmana, seems to be the older of the two, on the ground both of its matter and of its style, which in many parts resembles that of the Brahmanas. It consists of eighteen books, the last two of which were added later, and correspond to the first two books of the Kaushitaki Aranyaka. The Çrauta Sutra of Açvalayana, which consists of twelve books, is related to the Aitareya Brahmana. Açvalayana is also known as the author of the fourth book of the Aitareya Aranyaka, and was according to tradition the pupil of Çaunaka. Three Çrauta Sutras to the Samaveda have been preserved. The oldest, that of Maçaka, also called Arsheya-kalpa, is nothing more than an enumeration of the prayers belonging to the various ceremonies of the Soma sacrifice in the order of the Panchavimça Brahmana. The Çrauta Sutra composed by Latyayana, became the accepted manual of the Kauthuma school. This Sutra, like that of Maçaka, which it quotes, is closely connected with the Panchavimça Brahmana. The Çrauta Sutra of Drahyayana, which differs but little from that of Latyayana, belongs to the Ranayaniya branch of the Samaveda. To the White Yajurveda belongs the Çrauta Sutra of Katyayana. This manual, which consists of twenty-six chapters, on the whole strictly follows the sacrificial order of the Çatapatha Brahmana. Three of its chapters (xxii.-xxiv.), however, relate to the ceremonial of the Samaveda. Owing to the enigmatical character of its style, it appears to be one of the later productions of the Sutra period. No less than six Çrauta Sutras belonging to the Black Yajurveda have been preserved, but only two of them have as yet been published. Four of these form a very closely connected group, being part of the Kalpa Sutras of four subdivisions of the Taittiriya Çakha, which represented the later sutra schools (charanas) not claiming a special revelation of Veda or Brahmana. The Çrauta Sutra of Apastamba forms the first twenty-four of the thirty chapters (praçnas) into which his Kalpa Sutra is divided; and that of Hiranyakeçin, an offshoot of the Apastambas, the first eighteen of the twenty-nine chapters of his Kalpa Sutra. The Sutra of Baudhayana, who is older than Apastamba, as well as that of Bharadvaja, has not yet been published. Connected with the Maitrayani Samhita is the Manava Çrauta Sutra. It belongs to the Manavas, who were a subdivision of the Maitrayaniyas, and to whom the law-book of Manu probably traces its origin. It seems to be one of the oldest. It has a descriptive character, resembling the Brahmana parts of the Yajurveda, and differing from them only in simply describing the course of the sacrifice, to the exclusion of legends, speculations, or discussions of any kind. There is also a Vaikhanasa Çrauta Sutra attached to the Black Yajurveda, but it is known only in a few MSS. The Çrauta Sutra of the Atharva-veda is the Vaitana Sutra. It is neither old nor original, but was undoubtedly compiled in order to supply the Atharva, like the other Vedas, with a Sutra of its own. It probably received its name from the word with which it begins, since the term vaitana ("relating to the three sacrificial fires") is equally applicable to all Çrauta Sutras. It agrees to a considerable extent with the Gopatha Brahmana, though it distinctly follows the Sutra of Katyayana to the White Yajurveda. One indication of its lateness is the fact that whereas in other cases a Grihya regularly presupposes the Çrauta Sutra, the Vaitana is dependent on the domestic sutra of the Atharva-veda. Though the Çrauta Sutras are indispensable for the right understanding of the sacrificial ritual, they are, from any other point of view, a most unattractive form of literature. It will, therefore, suffice to mention in briefest outline the ceremonies with which they deal. It is important to remember, in the first place, that these rites are never congregational, but are always performed on behalf of a single individual, the so-called Yajamana or sacrificer, who takes but little part in them. The officiators are Brahman priests, whose number varies from one to sixteen, according to the nature of the ceremony. In all these rites an important part is played by the three sacred fires which surround the vedi, a slightly excavated spot covered with a litter of grass for the reception of offerings to the gods. The first ceremony of all is the setting up of the sacred fires (agni-adheya), which are kindled by the sacrificer and his wife with the firesticks, and are thereafter to be regularly maintained. The Çrauta rites, fourteen in number, are divided into the two main groups of seven oblation (havis) sacrifices and seven soma sacrifices. Different forms of the animal sacrifice are classed with each group. The havis sacrifices consist of offerings of milk, ghee, porridge, grain, cakes, and so forth. The commonest is the Agnihotra, the daily morning and evening oblation of milk to the three fires. The most important of the others are the new and full moon sacrifices (darçapurna-masa) and those offered at the beginning of the three seasons (chaturmasya). Besides some other recurrent sacrifices, there are very many which are to be offered on some particular occasion, or for the attainment of some special object. The various kinds of Soma sacrifices were much more complicated. Even the simplest and fundamental form, the Agnishtoma ("praise of Agni") required the ministrations of sixteen priests. This rite occupied only one day, with three pressings of soma, at morning, noon, and evening; but this day was preceded by very detailed preparatory ceremonies, one of which was the initiation (diksha) of the sacrificer and his wife. Other soma sacrifices lasted for several days up to twelve; while another class, called sattras or "sessions," extended to a year or more. A very sacred ceremony that can be connected with the soma sacrifice is the Agnichayana, or "Piling of the fire-altar," which lasts for a year. It begins with a sacrifice of five animals. Then a long time is occupied in preparing the earthenware vessel, called ukha, in which fire is to be maintained for a year. Very elaborate rules are given both as to the ingredients, such as the hair of a black antelope, with which the clay is to be mixed, and as to how it is to be shaped, and finally burnt. Then the bricks, which have different and particular sizes, have to be built up in prescribed order. The lowest of the five strata must have 1950, all of them together, a total of 10,800 bricks. Many of these have their special name and significance. Thus the altar is gradually built up, as its bricks are placed in position, to the accompaniment of appropriate rites and verses, by a formidable array of priests. These are but some of the main points in the ceremony; but they will probably give some faint idea of the enormous complexity and the vast mass of detail, where the smallest of minutiæ are of importance, in the Brahman ritual. No other religion has ever known its like. As the domestic ritual is almost entirely excluded from the Brahmanas, the authors of the Grihya Sutras had only the authority of popular tradition to rely on when they systematised the observances of daily life. As a type, the Grihya manuals must be somewhat later than the Çrauta, for they regularly presuppose a knowledge of the latter. To the Rigveda belongs in the first place the Çankhayana Grihya Sutra. It consists of six books, but only the first four form the original portion of the work, and even these contain interpolations. Closely connected with this work is the Çambavya Grihya, which also belongs to the school of the Kaushitakins, and is as yet known only in manuscript. Though borrowing largely from Çankhayana, it is not identical with that work. It knows nothing of the last two books, nor even a number of ceremonies described in the third and fourth, while having a book of its own concerning the sacrifice to the Manes. Connected with the Aitareya Brahmana is the Grihya Sutra of Açvalayana, which its author in the first aphorism gives us to understand is a continuation of his Çrauta Sutra. It consists of four books, and, like the latter work, ends with the words "adoration to Çaunaka." The chief Grihya Sutra of the Samaveda is that of Gobhila, which is one of the oldest, completest, and most interesting works of this class. Its seems to have been used by both the schools of its Veda. Besides the text of the Samaveda it presupposes the Mantra Brahmana. The latter is a collection, in the ritual order, of the mantras (except those occurring in the Samaveda itself), which are quoted by Gobhila in an abbreviated form. The Grihya Sutra of Khadira, belonging to the Drahyayana school and used by the Ranayaniya branch of the Samaveda, is little more than Gobhila remodelled in a more succinct form. The Grihya Sutra of the White Yajurveda is that of Paraskara, also called the Katiya or Vajasaneya Grihya Sutra. It is so closely connected with the Çrauta Sutra of Katyayana, that it is often quoted under the name of that author. The later law-book of Yajnavalkya bears evidence of the influence of Paraskara's work. Of the seven Grihya Sutras of the Black Yajurveda only three have as yet been published. The Grihya of Apastamba forms two books (26-27) of his Kalpa Sutra. The first of these two books is the Mantrapatha, which is a collection of the formulas accompanying the ceremonies. The Grihya Sutra, in the strict sense, is the second book, which presupposes the Mantrapatha. Books XIX. and XX. of Hiranyakeçin's Kalpa Sutra form his Grihya Sutra. About Baudhayana's Grihya not much is known, still less about that of Bharadvaja. The Manava Grihya Sutra is closely connected with the Çrauta, repeating many of the statements of the latter verbally. It is interesting as containing a ceremony unknown to other Grihya Sutras, the worship of the Vinayakas. The passage reappears in a versified form in Yajnavalkya's law-book, where the four Vinayakas are transformed into the one Vinayaka, the god Ganeça. With the Manava is clearly connected the Kathaka Grihya Sutra, not only in the principle of its arrangement, but even in the wording of many passages. It is nearly related to the law-book of Vishnu. The Vaikhanasa Grihya Sutra is an extensive work bearing traces of a late origin, and partly treating of subjects otherwise relegated to works of a supplementary character. To the Atharva-veda belongs the important Kauçika Sutra. It is not a mere Grihya Sutra, for besides giving the more important rules of the domestic ritual, it deals with the magical and other practices specially connected with its Veda. By its extensive references to these subjects it supplies much material unknown to other Vedic schools. It is a composite work, apparently made up of four or five different treatises. In combination with the Atharva-veda it supplies an almost complete picture of the ordinary life of the Vedic Indian. The Grihya Sutras give the rules for the numerous ceremonies applicable to the domestic life of a man and his family from birth to the grave. For the performance of their ritual only the domestic (avasathya or vaivahika) fire was required, as contrasted with the three sacrificial fires of the Çrauta Sutras. They describe forty consecrations or sacraments (samskaras) which are performed at various important epochs in the life of the individual. The first eighteen, extending from conception to marriage, are called "bodily sacraments." The remaining twenty-two are sacrifices. Eight of these, the five daily sacrifices (mahayajna) and some other "baked offerings" (pakayajna), form part of the Grihya ceremonies, the rest belonging to the Çrauta ritual. The first of the sacraments is the pumsavana or ceremony aiming at the obtainment of a son. The most common expedient prescribed is the pounded shoot of a banyan tree placed in the wife's right nostril. After the birth-rites (jata-karma), the ceremony of giving the child its names (nama-karana) takes place, generally on the tenth day after birth. Two are given, one being the "secret name," known only to the parents, as a protection against witchcraft, the other for common use. Minute directions are given as to the quality of the name; for instance, that it should contain an even number of syllables, begin with a soft letter, and have a semi-vowel in the middle; that for a Brahman it should end in -çarman, for a Kshatriya in -varman, and a Vaiçya in -gupta. Generally in the third year takes place the ceremony of tonsure (chuda-karana), when the boy's hair was cut, one or more tufts being left on the top, so that his hair might be worn after the fashion prevailing in his family. In the sixteenth year the rite of shaving the beard was performed. Its name, go-dana, or "gift of cows," is due to the fee usually having been a couple of cattle. By far the most important ceremony of boyhood was that of apprenticeship to a teacher or initiation (upanayana), which in the case of a Brahman may take place between the eighth and sixteenth year, but a few years later in the case of the Kshatriya and the Vaiçya. On this occasion the youth receives a staff, a garment, a girdle, and a cord worn over one shoulder and under the other arm. The first is made of different wood, the others of different materials according to caste. The sacred cord is the outward token of the Arya or member of one of the three highest castes, and by investiture with it he attains his second birth, being thenceforward a "twice-born" man (dvi-ja). The spiritual significance of this initiation is the right to study the Veda, and especially to recite the most sacred of prayers, the Savitri. In this ceremony the teacher (acharya) who initiates the young Brahman is regarded as his spiritual father, and the Savitri as his mother. The rite of upanayana is still practised in India. It is based on a very old custom. The Avestan ceremony of investing the boy of fifteen with a sacred cord upon his admission into the Zoroastrian community shows that it goes back to Indo-Iranian times. The prevalence among primitive races all over the world of a rite of initiation, regarded as a second birth, upon the attainment of manhood, indicates that it was a still older custom, which in the Brahman system became transformed into a ceremony of admission to Vedic study. Besides his studies, the course of which is regulated by detailed rules, the constant duties of the pupil are the collection of fuel, the performance of devotions at morning and evening twilight, begging food, sleeping on the ground, and obedience to his teacher. At the conclusion of religious studentship (brahmacharya), which lasted for twelve years, or till the pupil had mastered his Veda, he performs the rite of return (samavartana), the principal part of which is a bath, with which he symbolically washes off his apprenticeship. He is now a snataka ("one who has bathed"), and soon proceeds to the most important sacrament of his life, marriage. The main elements of this ceremony doubtless go back to the Indo-European period, and belong rather to the sphere of witchcraft than of the sacrificial cult. The taking of her hand placed the bride in the power of her husband. The stone on which she stepped was to give her firmness. The seven steps which she took with her husband, and the sacrificial food which she shared with him, were to inaugurate friendship and community. Future abundance and male offspring were prognosticated when she had been conducted to her husband's house, by seating her on the hide of a red bull and placing upon her lap the son of a woman who had only borne living male children. The god most closely connected with the rite was Agni; for the husband led his bride three times round the nuptial fire--whence the Sanskrit name for wedding, pari-naya, "leading round"--and the newly kindled domestic fire was to accompany the couple throughout life. Offerings are made to it and Vedic formulas pronounced. After sunset the husband leads out his bride, and as he points to the pole-star and the star Arundhati, they exhort each other to be constant and undivided for ever. These wedding ceremonies, preserved much as they are described in the Sutras, are still widely prevalent in the India of to-day. All the above-mentioned sacraments are exclusively meant for males, the only one in which girls had a share being marriage (vivaha). About twelve of these Samskaras are still practised in India, investiture being still the most important next to marriage. Some of the ceremonies only survive in a symbolical form, as those connected with religious studentship. Among the most important duties of the new householder is the regular daily offering of the five great sacrifices (maha-yajna), which are the sacrifice to the Veda (brahma-yajna), or Vedic recitation; the offering to the gods (deva-yajna) of melted butter in fire (homa); the libation (tarpana) to the Manes (pitri-yajna); offerings (called bali) deposited in various places on the ground to demons and all beings (bhuta-yajna); and the sacrifice to men (manushya-yajna), consisting in hospitality, especially to Brahman mendicants. The first is regarded as by far the highest; the recitation of the savitri, in particular, at morning and evening worship, is as meritorious as having studied the Veda. All these five daily sacrifices are still in partial use among orthodox Brahmans. There are other sacrifices which occur periodically. Such are the new and full moon sacrifices, in which, according to the Grihya ritual, a baked offering (paka-yajna) is made, while, according to the Çrauta ceremony, cakes (purodaça) are offered. There is, further, at the beginning of the rains an offering made to serpents, when the use of a raised bed is enjoined, owing to the danger from snakes at that time. Various ceremonies are connected with the building and entering of a new house. Detailed rules are given about the site as well as the construction. A door on the west is, for instance, forbidden. On the completion of the house, which is built of wood and bamboo, an animal is sacrificed. Other ceremonies are concerned with cattle; for instance, the release of a young bull for the benefit of the community. Then there are agricultural ceremonies, such as the offering of the first-fruits and rites connected with ploughing. Mention is also made of offerings to monuments (chaityas) erected to the memory of teachers. There are, moreover, directions as to what is to be done in case of evil dreams, bad omens, and disease. Finally, one of the most interesting subjects with which the Grihya Sutras deal is that of funeral rites (antyeshti) and the worship of the Manes. All but children under two years of age are to be cremated. The dead man's hair and beard are cut off and his nails trimmed, the body being anointed with nard and a wreath being placed on the head. Before being burnt the corpse is laid on a black antelope skin. In the case of a Kshatriya, his bow (in that of a Brahman his staff, of a Vaiçya his goad) is taken from his hand, broken, and cast on the pyre, while a cow or a goat is burnt with the corpse. Afterwards a purifying ablution is performed by all relations to the seventh or tenth degree. They then sit down on a grassy spot and listen to old stories or a sermon on the transitoriness of life till the stars appear. At last, without looking round, they return in procession to their homes, where various observances are gone through. A death is followed by a period of impurity, generally lasting three days, during which the relatives are required, among other things, to sleep on the ground and refrain from eating flesh. On the night after the death a cake is offered to the deceased, and a libation of water is poured out; a vessel with milk and water is also placed in the open air, and the dead man is called upon to bathe in it. Generally after the tenth day the bones are collected and placed in an urn, which is buried to the accompaniment of the Rigvedic verse, "Approach thy mother earth" (x. 18, 10). The soul is supposed to remain separated from the Manes for a time as a preta or "ghost." A çraddha, or "offering given with faith" (çraddha), of which it is the special object (ekoddishta), is presented to it in this state, the idea being that it would otherwise return and disquiet the relatives. Before the expiry of a year he is admitted to the circle of the Manes by a rite which makes him their sapinda ("united by the funeral cake"). After the lapse of a year or more another elaborate ceremony (called pitri-medha) takes place in connection with the erection of a monument, when the bones are taken out of the urn and buried in a suitable place. There are further various general offerings to the Manes, or çraddhas, which take place at fixed periods, such as that on the day of new moon (parvana çraddha), while others are only occasional and optional. These rites still play an important part in India, well-to-do families in Bengal spending not less than 5000 to 6000 rupees on their first çraddha. From all these offerings of the Grihya ritual are to be distinguished the two regular sacrifices of the Çrauta ritual, the one called Pinda-pitri-yajna immediately preceding the new-moon sacrifice, the other being connected with the third of the four-monthly sacrifices. The ceremonial of ancestor-worship was especially elaborated, and developed a special literature of its own, extending from the Vedic period to the legal Compendia of the Middle Ages. The Çraddha-kalpa of Hemadri comprises upwards of 1700 pages in the edition of the Bibliotheca Indica. The above is the briefest possible sketch of the abundant material of the Grihya Sutras, illustrating the daily domestic life of ancient India. Perhaps, however, enough has been said to show that they have much human interest, and that they occupy an important place in the history of civilisation. The second branch of the Sutra literature, based on tradition or Smriti, are the Dharma Sutras, which deal with the customs of everyday life (samayacharika). They are the earliest Indian works on law, treating fully of its religious, but only partially and briefly of its secular, aspect. The term Dharma Sutra is, strictly speaking, applied to those collections of legal aphorisms which form part of the body of Sutras belonging to a particular branch (çakha) of the Veda. In this sense only three have been preserved, all of them attached to the Taittiriya division of the Black Yajurveda. But there is good reason to suppose that other works of the same kind which have been preserved, or are known to have existed, were originally also attached to individual Vedic schools. That Sutras on Dharma were composed at a very early period is shown by the fact that Yaska, who dates from near the beginning of the Sutra age, quotes legal rules in the Sutra style. Indeed, one or two of those extant must go back to about his time. The Dharma Sutra which has been best preserved, and has remained free from the influence of sectarians or modern editors, is that of the Apastambas. It forms two (28-29) of the thirty sections of the great Apastamba Kalpa Sutra, or body of aphorisms concerning the performance of sacrifices and the duties of the three upper classes. It deals chiefly with the duties of the Vedic student and of the householder, with forbidden food, purifications, and penances, while, on the secular side, it touches upon the law of marriage, inheritance, and crime only. From the disapprobation which the author expresses for a certain practice of the people of the North, it may be inferred that he belonged to the South, where his school is known to have been settled in later times. Owing to the pre-Paninean character of its language and other criteria, Bühler has assigned this Dharma Sutra to about 400 B.C. Very closely connected with this work is the Dharma Sutra of Hiranyakeçin; for the differences between the two do not go much beyond varieties of reading. In keeping with this relationship is the tradition that Hiranyakeçin branched off from the Apastambas and founded a new school in the Konkan country on the south-west (about Goa). The lower limit for this separation from the Apastambas is about 500 A.D., when a Hiranyakeçin Brahman is mentioned in an inscription. The main importance of this Sutra lies in its confirming, by the parallelism of its text, the genuineness of by far the greatest part of Apastamba's work. It forms two (26-27) of the twenty-nine chapters of the Kalpa Sutra belonging to the school of Hiranyakeçin. The third Dharma Sutra, generally styled a dharmaçastra in the MSS., is that of Baudhayana. Its position, however, within the Kalpa Sutra of its school is not so fixed as in the two previous cases. Its subject-matter, when compared with that of Apastamba's Dharma Sutra, indicates that it is the older of the two, just as the more archaic and awkward style of Baudhayana's Grihya Sutra shows the latter to be earlier than the corresponding work of Apastamba. The Baudhayana school cannot be traced at the present day, but it appears to have belonged to Southern India, where the famous Vedic commentator Sayana was a member of it in the fourteenth century. The subjects dealt with in their Dharma Sutra are multifarious, including the duties of the four religious orders, the mixed castes, various kinds of sacrifice, purification, penance, auspicious ceremonies, duties of kings, criminal justice, examination of witnesses, law of inheritance and marriage, the position of women. The fourth section, which is almost entirely composed in çlokas, is probably a modern addition, and even the third is of somewhat doubtful age. With the above works must be classed the well-preserved law-book of Gautama. Though it does not form part of a Kalpa Sutra, it must at one time have been connected with a Vedic school; for the Gautamas are mentioned as a subdivision of the Ranayaniya branch of the Samaveda, and Kumarila's statement that Gautama's treatise originally belonged to that Veda is confirmed by the fact that its twenty-sixth section is taken word for word from the Samavidhana Brahmana. Though entitled a Dharma Çastra, it is in style and character a regular Dharma Sutra. It is composed entirely in prose aphorisms, without any admixture of verse, as in the other works of this class. Its varied contents resemble and are treated much in the same way as those of the Dharma Sutra of Baudhayana. The latter has indeed been shown to contain passages based on or borrowed from Gautama's work, which is therefore the oldest Dharma Sutra that has been preserved, or at least published, and can hardly date from later than about 500 B.C. Another work of the Sutra type, and belonging to the Vedic period, is the Dharma Çastra of Vasishtha. It has survived only in inferior MSS., and without the preserving influence of a commentary. It contains thirty chapters (adhyayas), of which the last five appear to consist for the most part of late additions. Many of the Sutras, not only here, but even in the older portions, are hopelessly corrupt. The prose aphorisms of the work are intermingled with verse, the archaic trishtubh metre being frequently employed instead of the later çlokas of Manu and others. The contents, which bear the Dharma Sutra stamp, produce the impression of antiquity in various respects. Thus here, as in the Dharma Sutra of Apastamba, only six forms of marriage are recognised, instead of the orthodox eight. Kumarila states that in his time Vasishtha's law-book, while acknowledged to have general authority, was studied by followers of the Rigveda only. That he meant the present work and no other, is proved by the quotations from it which he gives, and which are found in the published text. As Vasishtha, in citing Vedic Samhitas and Sutras, shows a predilection for works belonging to the North of India, it is to be inferred that he or his school belonged to that part. Vasishtha gives a quotation from Gautama which appears to refer to a passage in the extant text of the latter. His various quotations from Manu are derived, not from the later famous law-book, but evidently from a legal Sutra related to our Manu. On the other hand, the extant text of Manu contains a quotation from Vasishtha which actually occurs in the published edition of the latter. Hence Vasishtha's work must be later than that of Gautama, and earlier than that of Manu. It is further probable that the original part of the Sutra of a school connected with the Rigveda and belonging to the North dates from a period some centuries before our era. Some Dharma Sutras are known from quotations only, the oldest being those mentioned in other Dharma Sutras. Particular interest attaches to one of these, the Sutra of Manu, or the Manavas, because of its relationship to the famous Manava dharma-çastra. Of the numerous quotations from it in Vasishtha, six are found unaltered or but slightly modified in our text of Manu. One passage cited in Vasishtha is composed partly in prose and partly in verse, the latter portion recurring in Manu. The metrical quotations show a mixture of trishtubh and çloka verses, like other Dharma Sutras. These quoted fragments probably represent a Manava dharma-sutra which supplied the basis of our Manava dharma-çastra or Code of Manu. Fragments of a legal treatise in prose and verse, attributed to the brothers Çankha and Likhita, who became proverbial for justice, have been similarly preserved. This work, which must have been extensive, and dealt with all branches of law, is already quoted as authoritative by Paraçara. The statement of Kumarila (700 A.D.) that it was connected with the Vajasaneyin school of the White Yajurveda is borne out by the quotations from it which have survived. Sutras need not necessarily go back to the oldest period of Indian law, as this style of composition was never entirely superseded by the use of metre. Thus there is a Vaikhanasa dharma-sutra in four praçnas, which, as internal evidence shows, cannot be earlier than the third century A.D. It refers to the cult of Narayana (Vishnu), and mentions Wednesday by the name of budha-vara, "day of Mercury." It is not a regular Dharma Sutra, for it contains nothing connected with law in the strict sense, but is only a treatise on domestic law (grihya-dharma). It deals with the religious duties of the four orders (açramas), especially with those of the forest hermit. For it is with the latter order that the Vaikhanasas, or followers of Vikhanas, are specially connected. They seem to have been one of the youngest offshoots of the Taittiriya school. Looking back on the vast mass of ritual and usage regulated by the Sutras, we are tempted to conclude that it was entirely the conscious work of an idle priesthood, invented to enslave and maintain in spiritual servitude the minds of the Hindu people. But the progress of research tends to show that the basis even of the sacerdotal ritual of the Brahmans was popular religious observances. Otherwise it would be hard to understand how Brahmanism acquired and retained such a hold on the population of India. The originality of the Brahmans consisted in elaborating and systematising observances which they already found in existence. This they certainly succeeded in doing to an extent unknown elsewhere. Comparative studies have shown that many ritual practices go back to the period when the Indians and Persians were still one people. Thus the sacrifice was even then the centre of a developed ceremonial, and was tended by a priestly class. Many terms of the Vedic ritual already existed then, especially soma, which was pressed, purified through a sieve, mixed with milk, and offered as the main libation. Investiture with a sacred cord was, as we have seen, also known, and was in its turn based on the still older ceremony of the initiation of youths on entering manhood. The offering of gifts to the gods in fire is Indo-European, as is shown by the agreement of the Greeks, Romans, and Indians. Indo-European also is that part of the marriage ritual in which the newly wedded couple walk round the nuptial fire, the bridegroom presenting a burnt offering and the bride an offering of grain; for among the Romans also the young pair walked round the altar from left to right before offering bread (far) in the fire. Indo-European, too, must be the practice of scattering rice or grain (as a symbol of fertility) over the bride and bridegroom, as prescribed in the Sutras; for it is widely diffused among peoples who cannot have borrowed it. Still older is the Indian ceremony of producing the sacrificial fire by the friction of two pieces of wood. Similarly the practice in the construction of the Indian fire-altar of walling up in the lowest layer of bricks the heads of five different victims, including that of a man, goes back to an ancient belief that a building can only be firmly erected when a man or an animal is buried with its foundations. Finally, we have as a division of the Sutras, concerned with religious practice, the Çulva Sutras. The thirtieth and last praçna of the great Kalpa Sutra of Apastamba is a treatise of this class. These are practical manuals giving the measurements necessary for the construction of the vedi, of the altars, and so forth. They show quite an advanced knowledge of geometry, and constitute the oldest Indian mathematical works. The whole body of Vedic works composed in the Sutra style, is according to the Indian traditional view, divided into six classes called Vedangas ("members of the Veda"). These are çiksha or phonetics; chhandas, or metre; vyakarana, or grammar; nirukta, or etymology; kalpa, or religious practice; and jyotisha, or astronomy. The first four were meant as aids to the correct reciting and understanding of the sacred texts; the last two deal with religious rites or duties, and their proper seasons. They all have their origin in the exigencies of religion, and the last four furnish the beginnings or (in one case) the full development of five branches of science that flourished in the post-Vedic period. In the fourth and sixth group the name of the class has been applied to designate a particular work representing it. Of kalpa we have already treated at length above. No work representing astronomy has survived from the Vedic period; for the Vedic calendar, called jyotisha, the two recensions of which profess to belong to the Rigveda and Yajurveda respectively, dates from far on in the post-Vedic age. The Taittiriya Aranyaka (vii. 1) already mentions çiksha, or phonetics, a subject which even then appears to have dealt with letters, accents, quantity, pronunciation, and euphonic rules. Several works bearing the title of çiksha have been preserved, but they are only late supplements of Vedic literature. They are short manuals containing directions for Vedic recitation and correct pronunciation. The earliest surviving results of phonetic studies are of course the Samhita texts of the various Vedas, which were edited in accordance with euphonic rules. A further advance was made by the constitution of the pada-patha, or word-text of the Vedas, which, by resolving the euphonic combinations and giving each word (even the parts of compounds) separately, in its original form unmodified by phonetic rules, furnished a basis for all subsequent studies. Yaska, Panini, and other grammarians do not always accept the analyses of the Padapathas when they think they understand a Vedic form better. Patanjali even directly contests their authoritativeness. The treatises really representative of Vedic phonetics are the Pratiçakhyas, which are directly connected with the Samhita and Padapatha. It is their object to determine the relation of these to each other. In so doing they furnish a systematic account of Vedic euphonic combination, besides adding phonetic discussions to secure the correct recitation of the sacred texts. They are generally regarded as anterior to Panini, who shows unmistakable points of contact with them. It is perhaps more correct to suppose that Panini used the present Pratiçakhyas in an older form, as, whenever he touches on Vedic sandhi, he is always less complete in his statements than they are, while the Pratiçakhyas, especially that of the Atharva-veda, are dependent on the terminology of the grammarians. Four of these treatises have been preserved and published. One belongs to the Rigveda, another to the Atharva-, and two to the Yajur-veda, being attached to the Vajasaneyi and the Taittiriya Samhita respectively. They are so called because intended for the use of each respective branch (çakha) of the Vedas. The Pratiçakhya Sutra of the Rigveda is an extensive metrical work in three books, traditionally attributed to Çaunaka, the teacher of Açvalayana; it may, however, in its present form only be a production of the school of Çaunaka. This Pratiçakhya was later epitomised, with the addition of some supplementary matter, in a short treatise entitled Upalekha. The Taittiriya Pratiçakhya is particularly interesting owing to the various peculiar names of teachers occurring among the twenty which it mentions. The Vajasaneyi Pratiçakhya, in eight chapters, names Katyayana as its author, and mentions Çaunaka among other predecessors. The Atharva-veda Pratiçakhya, in four chapters, belonging to the school of the Çaunakas, is more grammatical than the other works of this class. Metre, to which there are many scattered references in the Brahmanas, is separately treated in a section of the Çankhayana Çrauta Sutra (7, 27), in the last three sections (patalas) of the Rigveda Pratiçakhya, and especially in the Nidana Sutra, which belongs to the Samaveda. A part of the Chhandah Sutra of Pingala also deals with Vedic metres; but though it claims to be a Vedanga, it is in reality a late supplement, dealing chiefly with post-Vedic prosody, on which, indeed, it is the standard authority. Finally, Katyayana's two Anukramanis or indices, mentioned below, each contains a section, varying but slightly from the other, on Vedic metres. These sections are, however, almost identical in matter with the sixteenth patala of the Rigveda Pratiçakhya, and may possibly be older than the corresponding passage in the Pratiçakhya, though the latter work as a whole is doubtless anterior to the Anukramani. The Padapathas show that their authors had not only made investigations as to pronunciation and Sandhi, but already knew a good deal about the grammatical analysis of words; for they separate both the parts of compounds and the prefixes of verbs, as well as certain suffixes and terminations of nouns. They had doubtless already distinguished the four parts of speech (padajatani), though these are first mentioned by Yaska as naman, or "noun" (including sarva-naman, "representing all nouns" or "pronouns"), akhyata, "predicate," i.e. "verb"; upasarga, "supplement," i.e. "preposition"; nipata, "incidental addition," i.e. "particle." It is perhaps to the separation of these categories that the name for grammar, vyakarana, originally referred, rather than to the analysis of words. Even the Brahmanas bear evidence of linguistic investigations, for they mention various grammatical terms, such as "letter" (varna), "masculine" (vrishan), "number" (vachana), "case-form" (vibhakti).Still more such references are to be found in the Aranyakas, the Upanishads, and the Sutras. But the most important information we have of pre-Paninean grammar is that found in Yaska's work. Grammatical studies must have been cultivated to a considerable extent before Yaska's time, for he distinguishes a Northern and an Eastern school, besides mentioning nearly twenty predecessors, among whom Çakatayana, Gargya, and Çakalya are the most important. By the time of Yaska grammarians had learned to distinguish clearly between the stem and the formative elements of words; recognising the personal terminations and the tense affixes of the verb on the one hand, and primary (krit) or secondary (taddhita) nominal suffixes on the other. Yaska has an interesting discussion on the theory of Çakatayana, which he himself follows, that nouns are derived from verbs. Gargya and some other grammarians, he shows, admit this theory in a general way, but deny that it is applicable to all nouns. He criticises their objections, and finally dismisses them as untenable. On Çakatayana's theory of the verbal origin of nouns the whole system of Panini is founded. The sutra of that grammarian contains hundreds of rules dealing with Vedic forms; but these are of the nature of exceptions to the main body of his rules, which are meant to describe the Sanskrit language. His work almost entirely dominates the subsequent literature. Though belonging to the middle of the Sutra period, it must be regarded as the definite starting-point of the post-Vedic age. Coming to be regarded as an infallible authority, Panini superseded all his predecessors, whose works have consequently perished. Yaska alone survives, and that only because he was not directly a grammarian; for his work represents, and alone represents, the Vedanga "etymology." Yaska's Nirukta is in reality a Vedic commentary, and is older by some centuries than any other exegetical work preserved in Sanskrit. Its bases are the Nighantus, collections of rare or obscure Vedic words, arranged for the use of teachers. Yaska had before him five such collections. The first three contain groups of synonyms, the fourth specially difficult words, and the fifth a classification of the Vedic gods. These Yaska explained for the most part in the twelve books of his commentary (to which two others were added later). In so doing he adduces as examples a large number of verses, chiefly from the Rigveda, which he interprets with many etymological remarks. The first book is an introduction, dealing with the principles of grammar and exegesis. The second and third elucidate certain points in the synonymous nighantus; Books IV.-VI. comment on the fourth section, and VII.-XII. on the fifth. The Nirukta, besides being very important from the point of view of exegesis and grammar, is highly interesting as the earliest specimen of Sanskrit prose of the classical type, considerably earlier than Panini himself. Yaska already uses essentially the same grammatical terminology as Panini, employing, for instance, the same words for root (dhatu), primary, and secondary suffixes. But he must have lived a long time before Panini; for a considerable number of important grammarians' names are mentioned between them. Yaska must, therefore, go back to the fifth century, and undoubtedly belongs to the beginning of the Sutra period. One point of very great importance proved by the Nirukta is that the Rigveda had a very fixed form in Yaska's time, and was essentially identical with our text. His deviations are very insignificant. Thus in one passage (X. 29. I) he reads vayó as one word, against va yó as two words in Çakalya's Pada text. Yaska's paraphrases show that he also occasionally differed from the Samhita text, though the quotations themselves from the Rigveda have been corrected so as to agree absolutely with the traditional text. But these slight variations are probably due to mistakes in the Nirukta rather than to varieties of reading in the Rigveda. There are a few insignificant deviations of this kind even in Sayana, but they are always manifestly oversights on the part of the commentator. To the Sutras is attached a very extensive literature of Pariçishtas or "supplements," which seem to have existed in all the Vedic schools. They contain details on matters only touched upon in the Sutras, or supplementary information about subjects not dealt with at all by them. Thus, there is the Açvalayana Grihya-pariçishta, in four chapters, connected with the Rigveda. The Gobhila samgraha-pariçishta is a compendium of Grihya practices in general, with a special leaning towards magical rites, which came to be attached to the Samaveda. Closely related to, and probably later than this work, is the Karma-pradipa ("lamp of rites"), also variously called sama-grihya- or chhandogyagrihya-pariçishta, chhandoga-pariçishta, Gobhila-smriti, attributed to the Katyayana of the White Yajurveda or to Gobhila. It deals with the same subjects, though independently, as the Grihya samgraha, with which it occasionally agrees in whole çlokas. Of great importance for the understanding of the sacrificial ceremonial are the Prayogas ("Manuals") and Paddhatis ("Guides"), of which a vast number exist in manuscript. These works represent both the Çrauta and the Grihya ritual according to the various schools. The Prayogas describe the course of each sacrifice and the functions of the different groups of priests, solely from the point of view of practical performance, while the Paddhatis rather follow the systematic accounts of the Sutras and sketch their contents. There are also versified accounts of the ritual called Karikas, which are directly attached to Sutras or to Paddhatis. The oldest of them appears to be the Karika of Kumarila (c. 700 A.D.). Of a supplementary character are also the class of writings called Anukramanis or Vedic Indices, which give lists of the hymns, the authors, the metres, and the deities in the order in which they occur in the various Samhitas. To the Rigveda belonged seven of these works, all attributed to Çaunaka, and composed in the mixture of the çloka and trishtubh metre, which is also found in Çaunaka's Rigveda Pratiçakhya. There is also a General Index or Sarvanukramani which is attributed to Katyayana, and epitomises in the Sutra style the contents of the metrical indices. Of the metrical indices five have been preserved. The Arshanukramani, containing rather less than 300 çlokas, gives a list of the Rishis or authors of the Rigveda. Its present text represents a modernised form of that which was known to the commentator Shadguruçishya in the twelfth century. The Chhandonukramani, which is of almost exactly the same length, enumerates the metres in which the hymns of the Rigveda are composed. It also states for each book the number of verses in each metre as well as the aggregate in all metres. The Anuvakanukramani is a short index containing only about forty verses. It states the initial words of each of the eighty-five anuvakas or lessons into which the Rigveda is divided, and the number of hymns contained in these anuvakas. It further states that the Rigveda contains 1017 hymns (or 1025 according to the Vashkala recension), 10,580-1/2 verses, 153,826 words, 432,000 syllables, besides some other statistical details. The number of verses given does not exactly tally with various calculations that have recently been made, but the differences are only slight, and may be due to the way in which certain repeated verses were counted by the author of the index. There is another short index, known as yet only in two MSS., called the Padanukramani, or "index of lines" (padas), and composed in the same mixed metre as the others. The Suktanukramani, which has not survived, and is only known by name, probably consisted only of the initial words (pratikas) of the hymns. It probably perished because the Sarvanukramani would have rendered such a work superfluous. No MS. of the Devatanukramani or "Index of gods" exists, but ten quotations from it have been preserved by the commentator Shadguruçishya. It must have been superseded by the Brihaddevata, an index of the "many gods," a much more extensive work than any of the other Anukramanis, as it contains about 1200 çlokas interspersed with occasional trishtubhs. It is divided into eight adhyayas corresponding to the ashtakas of the Rigveda. Following the order of the Rigveda, its main object is to state the deity for each verse. But as it contains a large number of illustrative myths and legends, it is of great value as an early collection of stories. It is to a considerable extent based on Yaska's Nirukta. Besides Yaska himself and other teachers named by that scholar, it also mentions Bhaguri and Açvalayana as well as the Nidana Sutra, A peculiarity of this work is that it refers to a number of supplementary hymns (khilas) which do not form part of the canonical text of the Rigveda. Later, at least, than the original form of these metrical Anukramanis, is the Sarvanukramani of Katyayana, which combines the data contained in them within the compass of a single work. Composed in the Sutra style, it is of considerable length, occupying about forty-six pages in the printed edition. For every hymn in the Rigveda it states the initial word or words, the number of its verses, as well as the author, the deity, and the metre, even for single verses. There is an introduction in twelve sections, nine of which form a short treatise on Vedic metres corresponding to the last three sections of the Rigveda Pratiçakhya. The author begins with the statement that he is going to supply an index of the pratikas and so forth of the Rigveda according to the authorities (yathopadeçam), because without such knowledge the Çrauta and Smarta rites cannot be accomplished. These authorities are doubtless the metrical indices described above. For the text of the Sarvanukramani, which is composed in a concise Sutra style, not only contains some metrical lines (padas), but also a number of passages either directly taken from the Arshanukramani and the Brihaddevata, or with their metrical wording but slightly altered. Another metrical work attributed to Çaunaka is the Rigvidhana, which describes the magical effects produced by the recitation of hymns or single verses of the Rigveda. To the Pariçishtas of the Samaveda belong the two indices called Arsha and Daivata, enumerating respectively the Rishis and deities of the text of the Naigeya branch of the Samaveda. They quote Yaska, Çaunaka, and Açvalayana among others. There are also two Anukramanis attached to the Black Yajurveda. That of the Atreya school consists of two parts, the first of which is in prose, and the second in çlokas. It contains little more than an enumeration of names referring to the contents of its Samhita. The Anukramani of the Charayaniya school of the Kathaka is an index of the authors of the various sections and verses. Its statements regarding passages derived from the Rigveda differ much from those of the Sarvanukramani of the Rigveda, giving a number of totally new names. It claims to be the work of Atri, who communicated it to Laugakshi. The Anukramani of the White Yajurveda in the Madhyamdina recension, attributed to Katyayana, consists of five sections. The first four are an index of authors, deities, and metres. The authors of verses taken from the Rigveda generally agree with those in the Sarvanukramani. There are, however, a good many exceptions, several new names belonging to a later period, some even to that of the Çatapatha Brahmana. The fifth section gives a summary account of the metres occurring in the text. It is identical with the corresponding portion of the introduction to the Sarvanukramani, which was probably the original position of the section. There are many other Pariçishtas of the White Yajurveda, all attributed to Katyayana. Only three of these need be mentioned here. The Nigama-pariçishta, a glossary of synonymous words occurring in the White Yajurveda, has a lexicographical interest. The Pravaradhyaya, or "Chapter on Ancestors," is a list of Brahman families drawn up for the purpose of determining the forbidden degrees of relationship in marriage, and of indicating the priests suitable for the performance of sacrifice. The Charana-vyuha, or "Exposition of the Schools" of the various Vedas, is a very late work of little importance, giving a far less complete enumeration of the Vedic schools than certain sections of the Vishnu- and the Vayu-Purana. There is also a Charana-vyuha among the Pariçishtas of the Atharva-veda, which number upwards of seventy. This work makes the statement that the Atharva contains 2000 hymns and 12,380 verses. In concluding this account of Vedic literature, I cannot omit to say a few words about Sayana, the great mediæval Vedic scholar, to whom or to whose initiation we owe a number of valuable commentaries on the Rigveda, the Aitareya Brahmana and Aranyaka, as well as the Taittiriya Samhita, Brahmana, and Aranyaka, besides a number of other works. His comments on the two Samhitas would appear to have been only partially composed by himself and to have been completed by his pupils. He died in 1387, having written his works under Bukka I. (1350-79), whose teacher and minister he calls himself, and his successor, Harihara (1379-99). These princes belonged to a family which, throwing off the Muhammadan yoke in the earlier half of the fourteenth century, founded the dynasty of Vijayanagara ("city of victory"), now Hampi, on the Tungabhadra, in the Bellary district. Sayana's elder brother, Madhava, was minister of King Bukka, and died as abbot of the monastery of Çringeri, under the name of Vidyaranyasvamin. Not only did he too produce works of his own, but Sayana's commentaries, as composed under his patronage, were dedicated to him as madhaviya, or ("influenced by Madhava"). By an interesting coincidence Professor Max Müller's second edition of the Rigveda, with the commentary of Sayana, was brought out under the auspices of a Maharaja of Vijayanagara. The latter city has, however, nothing to do with that from which King Bukka derived his title. CHAPTER X THE EPICS (Circa 500-50 B.C.) In turning from the Vedic to the Sanskrit period, we are confronted with a literature which is essentially different from that of the earlier age in matter, spirit, and form. Vedic literature is essentially religious; Sanskrit literature, abundantly developed in every other direction, is profane. But, doubtless as a result of the speculative tendencies of the Upanishads, a moralising spirit at the same time breathes through it as a whole. The religion itself which now prevails is very different from that of the Vedic age. For in the new period the three great gods, Brahma, Vishnu, and Çiva are the chief objects of worship. The important deities of the Veda have sunk to a subordinate position, though Indra is still relatively prominent as the chief of a warrior's heaven. Some new gods of lesser rank have arisen, such as Kubera, god of wealth; Ganeça, god of learning; Karttikeya, god of war; Çri or Lakshmi, goddess of beauty and fortune; Durga or Parvati, the terrible spouse of Çiva; besides the serpent deities and several classes of demigods and demons. While the spirit of Vedic literature, at least in its earlier phase, is optimistic, Sanskrit poetry is pervaded by Weltschmerz, resulting from the now universally accepted doctrine of transmigration. To that doctrine, according to which beings pass by gradations from Brahma through men and animals to the lowest forms of existence, is doubtless also largely due the fantastic element characteristic of this later poetry. Here, for instance, we read of Vishnu coming down to earth in the shape of animals, of sages and saints wandering between heaven and earth, of human kings visiting Indra in heaven. Hand in hand with this fondness for introducing the marvellous and supernatural into the description of human events goes a tendency to exaggeration. Thus King Viçvamitra, we are told, practised penance for thousands of years in succession; and the power of asceticism is described as so great as to cause even the worlds and the gods to tremble. The very bulk of the Mahabharata, consisting as it does of more than 200,000 lines, is a concrete illustration of this defective sense of proportion. As regards the form in which it is presented to us, Sanskrit literature contrasts with that of both the earlier and the later Vedic period. While prose was employed in the Yajurvedas and the Brahmanas, and finally attained to a certain degree of development, it almost disappears in Sanskrit, nearly every branch of literature being treated in verse, often much to the detriment of the subject, as in the case of law. The only departments almost entirely restricted to the use of prose are grammar and philosophy, but the cramped and enigmatical style in which these subjects are treated hardly deserves the name of prose at all. Literary prose is found only in fables, fairy tales, romances, and partially in the drama. In consequence of this neglect, the prose of the later period compares unfavourably with that of the Brahmanas. Even the style of the romances or prose kavyas, subject as it is to the strict rules of poetics, is as clumsy as that of the grammatical commentaries; for the use of immense compounds, like those of the Sutras, is one of its essential characteristics. Sanskrit literature, then, resembles that of the earlier Vedic age in being almost entirely metrical. But the metres in which it is written, though nearly all based on those of the Veda, are different. The bulk of the literature is composed in the çloka, a development of the Vedic anushtubh stanza of four octosyllabic lines; but while all four lines ended iambically in the prototype, the first and third line have in the çloka acquired a trochaic rhythm. The numerous other metres employed in the classical poetry have become much more elaborate than their Vedic originals by having the quantity of every syllable in the line strictly determined. The style, too, excepting the two old epics, is in Sanskrit poetry made more artificial by the frequent use of long compounds, as well as by the application of the elaborate rules of poetics, while the language is regulated by the grammar of Panini. Thus classical Sanskrit literature, teeming as it does with fantastic and exaggerated ideas, while bound by the strictest rules of form, is like a tropical garden full of luxuriant and rank growth, in which, however, many a fair flower of true poetry may be culled. It is impossible even for the Sanskrit scholar who has not lived in India to appreciate fully the merits of this later poetry, much more so for those who can only become acquainted with it in translations. For, in the first place, the metres, artificial and elaborate though they are, have a beauty of their own which cannot be reproduced in other languages. Again, to understand it thoroughly, the reader must have seen the tropical plains and forests of Hindustan steeped in intense sunshine or bathed in brilliant moonlight; he must have viewed the silent ascetic seated at the foot of the sacred fig-tree; he must have experienced the feelings inspired by the approach of the monsoon; he must have watched beast and bird disporting themselves in tank and river; he must know the varying aspects of Nature in the different seasons; in short, he must be acquainted with all the sights and sounds of an Indian landscape, the mere allusion to one of which may call up some familiar scene or touch some chord of sentiment. Otherwise, for instance, the mango-tree, the red Açoka, the orange Kadamba, the various creepers, the different kinds of lotus, the mention of each of which should convey a vivid picture, are but empty names. Without a knowledge, moreover, of the habits, modes of thought, and traditions of the people, much must remain meaningless. But those who are properly equipped can see many beauties in classical Sanskrit poetry which are entirely lost to others. Thus a distinguished scholar known to the present writer has entered so fully into the spirit of that poetry, that he is unable to derive pleasure from any other. It would be a mistake to suppose that Sanskrit literature came into being only at the close of the Vedic period, or that it merely forms its continuation and development. As a profane literature, it must, in its earliest phases, which are lost, have been contemporaneous with the religious literature of the Vedas. Beside the productions of the latest Vedic period, that of the Upanishads and Sutras, there grew up, on the one hand, the rich Pali literature of Buddhism, and, on the other, the earliest form of Sanskrit poetry in the shape of epic tales. We have seen that even the Rigveda contains some hymns of a narrative character. Later we find in the Brahmanas a number of short legends, mostly in prose, but sometimes partly metrical, as the story of Çunahçepa in the Aitareya. Again, the Nirukta, which must date from the fifth century B.C., contains many prose tales, and the oldest existing collection of Vedic legend, the metrical Brihaddevata, cannot belong to a much later time. Sanskrit epic poetry falls into two main classes. That which comprises old stories goes by the name of Itihasa, "legend," Akhyana, "narrative," or Purana, "ancient tale," while the other is called Kavya or artificial epic. The Mahabharata is the chief and oldest representative of the former group, the Ramayana of the latter. Both these great epics are composed in the same form of the çloka metre as that employed in classical Sanskrit poetry. The Mahabharata, however, also contains, as remnants of an older phase, archaic verses in the upajati and vamçastha (developments of the Vedic trishtubh and jagati) metres, besides preserving some old prose stories in what is otherwise an entirely metrical work. It further differs from the sister epic in introducing speeches with words, such as "Brihadaçva spake," which do not form part of the verse, and which may be survivals of prose narrative connecting old epic songs. The Ramayana, again, is, in the main, the work of a single poet, homogeneous in plan and execution, composed in the east of India. The Mahabharata, arising in the western half of the country, is a congeries of parts, the only unity about which is the connectedness of the epic cycle with which they deal; its epic kernel, moreover, which forms only about one-fifth of the whole work, has become so overgrown with didactic matter, that in its final shape it is not an epic at all, but an encyclopædia of moral teaching. The Mahabharata, which in its present form consists of over 100,000 çlokas, equal to about eight times as much as the Iliad and Odyssey put together, is by far the longest poem known to literary history. It is a conglomerate of epic and didactic matter divided into eighteen books called parvan, with a nineteenth, the Harivamça, as a supplement. The books vary very considerably in length, the twelfth being the longest, with nearly 14,000, the seventeenth the shortest, with only 312 çlokas. All the eighteen books, excepting the eighth and the last three, are divided into subordinate parvans; each book is also cut up into chapters (adhyayas). No European edition of the whole epic has yet been undertaken. This remains one of the great tasks reserved for the future of Sanskrit philology, and can only be accomplished by the collaboration of several scholars. There are complete MSS. of the Mahabharata in London, Oxford, Paris, and Berlin, besides many others in different parts of India; while the number of MSS. containing only parts of the poem can hardly be counted. Three main editions of the epic have appeared in India. The editio princeps, including the Harivamça, but without any commentary, was published in four volumes at Calcutta in 1834-39. Another and better edition, which has subsequently been reproduced several times, was printed at Bombay in 1863. This edition, though not including the supplementary book, contains the commentary of Nilakantha. These two editions do not on the whole differ considerably. Being derived from a common source, they represent one and the same recension. The Bombay edition, however, generally has the better readings. It contains about 200 çlokas more than the Calcutta edition, but these additions are of no importance. A third edition, printed in Telugu characters, was published in four volumes at Madras in 1855-60. It includes the Harivamça and extracts from Nilakantha's commentary. This edition represents a distinct South Indian recension, which seems to differ from that of the North about as much as the three recensions of the Ramayana do from one another. Both recensions are of about equal length, omissions in the first being compensated by others in the second. Sometimes one has the better text, sometimes the other. The epic kernel of the Mahabharata or the "Great Battle of the descendants of Bharata," consisting of about 20,000 çlokas, describes the eighteen days' fight between Duryodhana, leader of the Kurus, and Yudhishthira, chief of the Pandus, who were cousins, both descended from King Bharata, son of Çakuntala. Within this narrative frame has come to be included a vast number of old legends about gods, kings, and sages; accounts of cosmogony and theogony; disquisitions on philosophy, law, religion, and the duties of the military caste. These lengthy and heterogeneous interpolations render it very difficult to follow the thread of the narrative. Entire works are sometimes inserted to illustrate a particular statement. Thus, while the two armies are drawn up prepared for battle, a whole philosophical poem, in eighteen cantos, the Bhagavadgita is recited to the hero Arjuna, who hesitates to advance and fight against his kin. Hence the Mahabharata claims to be not only a heroic poem (kavya), but a compendium teaching, in accordance with the Veda, the fourfold end of human existence (spiritual merit, wealth, pleasure, and salvation), a smriti or work of sacred tradition, which expounds the whole duty of man, and is intended for the religious instruction of all Hindus. Thus, in one (I. lxii. 35) of many similar passages, it makes the statement about itself that "this collection of all sacred texts, in which the greatness of cows and Brahmans is exalted, must be listened to by virtuous-minded men." Its title, Karshna Veda, or "Veda of Krishna" (a form of Vishnu), the occurrence of a famous invocation of Narayana and Nara (names of Vishnu) and Sarasvati (Vishnu's wife) at the beginning of each of its larger sections, and the prevalence of Vishnuite doctrines throughout the work, prove it to have been a smriti of the ancient Vishnuite sect of the Bhagavatas. Thus it is clear that the Mahabharata in its present shape contains an epic nucleus, that it favours the worship of Vishnu, and that it has become a comprehensive didactic work. We further find in Book I. the direct statements that the poem at one time contained 24,000 çlokas before the episodes (upakhyana) were added, that it originally consisted of only 8800 çlokas, and that it has three beginnings. These data render it probable that the epic underwent three stages of development from the time it first assumed definite shape; and this conclusion is corroborated by various internal and external arguments. There can be little doubt that the original kernel of the epic has as a historical background an ancient conflict between the two neighbouring tribes of the Kurus and Panchalas, who finally coalesced into a single people. In the Yajurvedas these two tribes already appear united, and in the Kathaka King Dhritarashtra Vaichitravirya, one of the chief figures of the Mahabharata, is mentioned as a well-known person. Hence the historical germ of the great epic is to be traced to a very early period, which cannot well be later than the tenth century B.C. Old songs about the ancient feud and the heroes who played a part in it, must have been handed down by word of mouth and recited in popular assemblies or at great public sacrifices. These disconnected battle-songs were, we must assume, worked up by some poetic genius into a comparatively short epic, describing the tragic fate of the Kuru race, who, with justice and virtue on their side, perished through the treachery of the victorious sons of Pandu, with Krishna at their head. To the period of this original epic doubtless belong the traces the Mahabharata has preserved unchanged of the heroic spirit and the customs of ancient times, so different from the later state of things which the Mahabharata as a whole reflects. To this period also belongs the figure of Brahma as the highest god. The evidence of Pali literature shows that Brahma already occupied that position in Buddha's time. We may, then, perhaps assume that the original form of our epic came into being about the fifth century B.C. The oldest evidence we have for the existence of the Mahabharata in some shape or other is to be found in Açvalayana's Grihya Sutra, where a Bharata and Mahabharata are mentioned. This would also point to about the fifth century B.C. To the next stage, in which the epic, handed down by rhapsodists, swelled to a length of about 20,000 çlokas, belongs the representation of the victorious Pandus in a favourable light, and the introduction on a level with Brahma of the two other great gods, Çiva, and especially Vishnu, of whom Krishna appears as an incarnation. We gather from the account of Megasthenes that about 300 B.C., these two gods were already prominent, and the people were divided into Çivaites and Vishnuites. Moreover, the Yavanas or Greeks are mentioned in the Mahabharata as allies of the Kurus, and even the Çakas (Scythians) and Pahlavas (Parthians) are named along with them; Hindu temples are also referred to as well as Buddhist relic mounds. Thus an extension of the original epic must have taken place after 300 B.C. and by the beginning of our era. The Brahmans knew how to utilise the great influence of the old epic tradition by gradually incorporating didactic matter calculated to impress upon the people, and especially on kings, the doctrines of the priestly caste. It thus at last assumed the character of a vast treatise on duty (dharma), in which the divine origin and immutability of Brahman institutions, the eternity of the caste system, and the subordination of all to the priests, are laid down. When the Mahabharata attributes its origin to Vyasa, it implies a belief in a final redaction, for the name simply means "Arranger." Dahlmann has recently put forward the theory that the great epic was a didactic work from the very outset; this view, however, appears to be quite irreconcilable with the data of the poem, and is not likely to find any support among scholars. What evidence have we as to when the Mahabharata attained to the form in which we possess it? There is an inscription in a land grant dating from 462 A.D. or at the latest 532 A.D., which proves incontrovertibly that the epic about 500 A.D. was practically of exactly the same length as it is stated to have in the survey of contents (anukramanika) given in Book I., and as it actually has now; for it contains the following words: "It has been declared in the Mahabharata, the compilation embracing 100,000 verses, by the highest sage, Vyasa, the Vyasa of the Vedas, the son of Paraçara." This quotation at the same time proves that the epic at that date included the very long 12th and 13th, as well as the extensive supplementary book, the Harivamça, without any one of which it would have been impossible to speak even approximately of 100,000 verses. There are also several land grants, dated between 450 and 500 A.D., and found in various parts of India, which quote the Mahabharata as an authority teaching the rewards of pious donors and the punishments of impious despoilers. This shows that in the middle of the fifth century it already possessed the same character as at present, that of a Smriti or Dharmaçastra. It is only reasonable to suppose that it had acquired this character at least a century earlier, or by about 350 A.D. Further research in the writings of the Northern Buddhists and their dated Chinese translations will probably enable us to put this date back by some centuries. We are already justified in considering it likely that the great epic had become a didactic compendium before the beginning of our era. In any case, the present state of our knowledge entirely disproves the suggestions put forward by Prof. Holtzmann in his work on the Mahabharata, that the epic was turned into a Dharmaçastra by the Brahmans after 900 A.D., and that whole books were added at this late period. The literary evidence of Sanskrit authors from about 600 to 1100 A.D. supplies us with a considerable amount of information as to the state of the great epic during those five centuries. An examination of the works of Bana, and of his predecessor Subandhu, shows that these authors, who belong to the beginning of the seventh century, not only studied and made use of legends from every one of the eighteen books of the Mahabharata for the poetical embellishment of their works, but were even acquainted with the Harivamça. We also know that in Bana's time the Bhagavadgita was included in the great epic. The same writer mentions that the Mahabharata was recited in the temple of Mahakala at Ujjain. That such recitation was already a widespread practice at that time is corroborated by an inscription of about 600 A.D. from the remote Indian colony of Kamboja, which states that copies of the Mahabharata, as well as of the Ramayana and of an unnamed Purana, were presented to a temple there, and that the donor had made arrangements to ensure their daily recitation in perpetuity. This evidence shows that the Mahabharata cannot have been a mere heroic poem, but must have borne the character of a Smriti work of long-established authority. Even at the present day both public and private recitations of the Epics and Puranas are common in India, and are always instituted for the edification and religious instruction of worshippers in temples or of members of the family. As a rule, the Sanskrit texts are not only declaimed, but also explained in the vernacular tongue for the benefit both of women, and of such males as belong to classes unacquainted with the learned language of the Brahmans. We next come to the eminent Mimamsa philosopher Kumarila, who has been proved to have flourished in the first half of the eighth century A.D. In the small portion of his great commentary, entitled Tantra-varttika, which has been examined, no fewer than ten of the eighteen books of the Mahabharata are named, quoted, or referred to. It is clear that the epic as known to him not only included the first book (adiparvan), but that that book in his time closely resembled the form of its text which we possess. It even appears to have contained the first section, called anukramanika or "Survey of contents," and the second, entitled parva-samgraha or "Synopsis of sections." Kumarila also knew Books XII. and XIII., which have frequently been pronounced to be of late origin, as well as XIX. It is evident from his treatment of the epic that he regarded it as a work of sacred tradition and of great antiquity, intended from the beginning for the instruction of all the four castes. To him it is not an account of the great war between the Kauravas and Pandus; the descriptions of battles were only used for the purpose of rousing the martial instincts of the warrior caste. The great Vedantist philosopher Çankaracharya, who wrote his commentary in 804 A.D., often quotes the Mahabharata as a Smriti, and in discussing a verse from Book XII. expressly states that the Mahabharata was intended for the religious instruction of those classes who by their position are debarred from studying the Vedas and the Vedanta. From the middle of the eleventh century A.D. we have the oldest known abstract of the Mahabharata, the work of the Kashmirian poet Kshemendra, entitled Bharata-Manjari. This condensation is specially important, because it enables the scholar to determine the state of the text in detail at that time. Professor Bühler's careful comparison of the MSS. of this work with the great epic has led him to the conclusion that Kshemendra's original did not differ from the Mahabharata as we have it at present in any other way than two classes of MSS. differ from each other. This poetical epitome shows several omissions, but these are on the whole of such a nature as is to be expected in any similar abridgment. It is, however, likely that twelve chapters (342-353) of Book XII., treating of Narayana, which the abbreviator passes over, did not exist in the original known to him. There can, moreover, be no doubt that the forms of several proper names found in the Manjari are better and older than those given by the editions of the Mahabharata. Though the division of the original into eighteen books is found in the abridgment also, it is made up by turning the third section (gada-parvan) of Book IX. (çalya-parvan) into a separate book, while combining Books XII. and XIII. into a single one. This variation probably represents an old division, as it occurs in many MSS. of the Mahabharata. Another work of importance in determining the state of the Mahabharata is a Javanese translation of the epic, also dating from the eleventh century. The best-known commentator of the Mahabharata is Nilakantha, who lived at Kurpara, to the west of the Godavari, in Maharashtra, and, according to Burnell, belongs to the sixteenth century. Older than Nilakantha, who quotes him, is Arjuna Miçra, whose commentary, along with that of Nilakantha, appears in an edition of the Mahabharata begun at Calcutta in 1875. The earliest extant commentator of the great epic is Sarvajna Narayana, large fragments of whose notes have been preserved, and who cannot have written later than in the second half of the fourteenth century, but may be somewhat older. The main story of the Mahabharata in the briefest possible outline is as follows: In the country of the Bharatas, which, from the name of the ruling race, had come to be called Kurukshetra, or "Land of the Kurus," there lived at Hastinapura, fifty-seven miles north-east of the modern Delhi, two princes named Dhritarashtra and Pandu. The elder of these brothers being blind, Pandu succeeded to the throne and reigned gloriously. He had five sons called Pandavas, the chief of whom were Yudhishthira, Bhima, and Arjuna. Dhritarashtra had a hundred sons, usually called Kauravas, or Kuru princes, the most prominent of whom was Duryodhana. On the premature death of Pandu, Dhritarashtra took over the reins of government, and receiving his five nephews into his palace, had them brought up with his own sons. As the Pandus distinguished themselves greatly in feats of arms and helped him to victory, the king appointed his eldest nephew, Yudhishthira, to be heir-apparent. The Pandu princes, however, soon found it necessary to escape from the plots their cousins now began to set on foot against them. They made their way to the king of Panchala, whose daughter Draupadi was won, in a contest between many kings and heroes, by Arjuna, who alone was able to bend the king's great bow and to hit a certain mark. In order to avoid strife, Draupadi consented to become the common wife of the five princes. At Draupadi's svayamvara (public choice of a husband) the Pandus made acquaintance with Krishna, the hero of the Yadavas, who from this time onward became their fast friend and adviser. Dhritarashtra, thinking it best to conciliate the Pandavas in view of their double alliance with the Panchalas and Yadavas, now divided his kingdom, giving Hastinapura to his sons, and to his nephews a district where they built the city of Indraprastha, the modern Delhi (i.). Here the Pandavas ruled wisely and prospered greatly. Duryodhana's jealousy being aroused, he resolved to ruin his cousins, with the aid of his uncle Çakuni, a skilful gamester. Dhritarashtra was accordingly induced to invite the Pandus to Hastinapura. Here Yudhishthira, accepting the challenge to play at dice with Duryodhana, lost everything, his kingdom, his wealth, his army, his brothers, and finally Draupadi. In the end a compromise was made by which the Pandavas agreed to go into banishment for twelve years, and to remain incognito for a thirteenth, after which they might return and regain their kingdom (ii.). With Draupadi they accordingly departed to the Kamyaka forest on the Sarasvati. The account of their twelve years' life here, and the many legends told to console them in their exile, constitute the vana-parvan or "Forest book," one of the longest in the poem (iii.). The thirteenth year they spent in disguise as servants of Virata, king of the Matsyas. At this time the Kurus, in alliance with another king, invaded the country of the Matsyas, causing much distress. Then the Pandus arose, put the enemy to flight, and restored the king. They now made themselves known, and entered into an alliance with the king (iv.). Their message demanding back their possessions receiving no answer, they prepared for war. The rival armies met in the sacred region of Kurukshetra, with numerous allies on both sides. Joined with the Kurus were, among others, the people of Kosala, Videha, Anga, Banga (Bengal), Kalinga on the east, and those of Sindhu, Gandhara, Bahlika (Balk), together with the Çakas and Yavanas on the west. The Pandus, on the other hand, were aided by the Panchalas, the Matsyas, part of the Yadavas under Krishna, besides the kings of Kaçi (Benares), Chedi, Magadha, and others (v.). The battle raged for eighteen days, till all the Kurus were destroyed, and only the Pandavas and Krishna with his charioteer escaped alive. The account of it extends over five books (vi.-x.). Then follows a description of the obsequies of the dead (xi.). In the next two books, Bhima, the leader of the Kurus, on his deathbed, instructs Yudhishthira for about 20,000 çlokas on the duties of kings and other topics. The Pandus having been reconciled to the old king Dhritarashtra, Yudhishthira was crowned king in Hastinapura, and instituted a great horse-sacrifice (xiv.). Dhritarashtra having remained at Hastinapura for fifteen years, at length retired, with his wife Gandhari, to the jungle, where they perished in a forest conflagration (xv.). Among the Yadavas, who had taken different sides in the great war, an internecine conflict broke out, which resulted in the annihilation of this people. Krishna sadly withdrew to the wilderness, where he was accidentally shot dead by a hunter (xvi.). The Pandus themselves, at last weary of life, leaving the young prince Parikshit, grandson of Arjuna, to rule over Hastinapura, retired to the forest, and dying as they wandered towards Meru, the mountain of the gods (xvii.), ascended to heaven with their faithful spouse (xviii.). Here the framework of the great epic, which begins at the commencement of the first book, comes to an end. King Parikshit having died of snake-bite, his son Janamejaya instituted a great sacrifice to the serpents. At that sacrifice the epic was recited by Vaiçampayana, who had learnt it from Vyasa. The latter, we are told, after arranging the four Vedas, composed the Mahabharata, which treats of the excellence of the Pandus, the greatness of Krishna, and the wickedness of the sons of Dhritarashtra. The supplementary book, the Harivamça, or "Family of Vishnu," is concerned only with Krishna. It contains more than 16,000 çlokas, and is divided into three sections. The first of these describes the history of Krishna's ancestors down to the time of Vishnu's incarnation in him; the second gives an account of Krishna's exploits; the third treats of the future corruptions of the Kali, or fourth age of the world. The episodes of the Mahabharata are numerous and often very extensive, constituting, as we have seen, about four-fifths of the whole poem. Many of them are interesting for various reasons, and some are distinguished by considerable poetic beauty. One of them, the story of Çakuntala (occurring in Book I.), supplied Kalidasa with the subject of his famous play. Episodes are specially plentiful in Book III., being related to while away the time of the exiled Pandus. Here is found the Matsyopakhyana, or "Episode of the fish," being the story of the flood, narrated with more diffuseness than the simple story told in the Çatapatha Brahmana. The fish here declares itself to be Brahma, Lord of creatures, and not yet Vishnu, as in the Bhagavata Purana. Manu no longer appears as the progenitor of mankind, but as a creator who produces all beings and worlds anew by means of his ascetic power. Another episode is the history of Rama, interesting in its relation to Valmiki's Ramayana, which deals with the same subject at much greater length. The myth of the descent of the Ganges from heaven to earth, here narrated, is told in the Ramayana also. Another legend is that of the sage Riçya-çringa, who having produced rain in the country of Lomapada, king of the Angas, was rewarded with the hand of the princess Çanta, and performed that sacrifice for King Daçaratha which brought about the birth of Rama. This episode is peculiarly important from a critical point of view, as the legend recurs not only in the Ramayana, but also in the Padma Purana, the Skanda Purana, and a number of other sources. Of special interest is the story of King Uçinara, son of Çibi, who sacrificed his life to save a pigeon from a hawk. It is told again in another part of Book III. about Çibi himself, as well as in Book XIII. about Vrishadarbha, son of Çibi. Distinctly Buddhistic in origin and character, the story is famous in Pali as well as Sanskrit literature, and spread beyond the limits of India. The story of the abduction of Draupadi forms an episode of her life while she dwelt with the Pandus in the Kamyaka forest. Accidentally seen when alone by King Jayadratha of Sindhu, who was passing with a great army, and fell in love with her at first sight, she was forcibly carried off, and only rescued after a terrible fight, in which the Pandus annihilated Jayadratha's host. Interesting as an illustration of the mythological ideas of the age is the episode which describes the journey of Arjuna to Indra's heaven. Here we see the mighty warrior-god of the Vedas transformed into a glorified king of later times, living a life of ease amid the splendours of his celestial court, where the ear is lulled by strains of music, while the eye is ravished by the graceful dancing and exquisite beauty of heavenly nymphs. In the story of Savitri we have one of the finest of the many ideal female characters which the older epic poetry of India has created. Savitri, daughter of Açvapati, king of Madra, chooses as her husband Satyavat, the handsome and noble son of a blind and exiled king, who dwells in a forest hermitage. Though warned by the sage Narada that the prince is fated to live but a single year, she persists in her choice, and after the wedding departs with her husband to his father's forest retreat. Here she lives happily till she begins to be tortured with anxiety on the approach of the fatal day. When it arrives, she follows her husband on his way to cut wood in the forest. After a time he lies down exhausted. Yama, the god of death, appears, and taking his soul, departs. As Savitri persistently follows him, Yama grants her various boons, always excepting the life of her husband; but yielding at last to her importunities, he restores the soul to the lifeless body. Satyavat recovers, and lives happily for many years with his faithful Savitri. One of the oldest and most beautiful stories inserted in the Mahabharata is the Nalopakhyana, or "Episode of Nala." It is one of the least corrupted of the episodes, its great popularity having prevented the transforming hand of an editor from introducing Çiva and Vishnu, or from effacing the simplicity of the manners it depicts--the prince, for instance, cooks his own food--or from changing the character of Indra, and other old traits. The poem is pervaded by a high tone of morality, manifested above all in the heroic devotion and fidelity of Damayanti, its leading character. It also contains many passages distinguished by tender pathos. The story is told by the wise Brihadaçva to the exiled Yudhishthira, in order to console him for the loss of the kingdom he has forfeited at play. Nala, prince of Nishada, chosen from among many competitors for her hand by Damayanti, princess of Vidarbha, passes several years of happy married life with her. Then, possessed by the demon Kali, and indulging in gambling, he loses his kingdom and all his possessions. Wandering half naked in the forest with Damayanti, he abandons her in his frenzy. Very pathetic is the scene describing how he repeatedly returns to the spot where his wife lies asleep on the ground before he finally deserts her. Equally touching are the accounts of her terror on awaking to find herself alone in the forest, and of her lamentations as she roams in search of her husband, and calls out to him-- Hero, valiant, knowing duty, To honour faithful, lord of earth, If thou art within this forest, Then show thee in thy proper form. Shall I hear the voice of Nala, Sweet as the draught of Amrita, With its deep and gentle accent, Like rumble of the thunder-cloud, Saying "Daughter of Vidarbha!" To me with clear and blessed sound. Rich, like Vedas murmured flowing, At once destroying all my grief? There are graphic descriptions of the beauties and terrors of the tropical forest in which Damayanti wanders. At last she finds her way back to her father's court at Kundina Many and striking are the similes with which the poet dwells on the grief and wasted form of the princess in her separation from her husband. She is Like the young moon's slender crescent Obscured by black clouds in the sky; Like the lotus-flower uprooted, All parched and withered by the sun; Like the pallid night, when Rahu Has swallowed up the darkened moon. Nala, meanwhile, transformed into a dwarf, has become charioteer to the king of Oudh. Damayanti at last hears news leading her to suspect her husband's whereabouts. She accordingly holds out hopes of her hand to the king of Oudh, on condition of his driving the distance of 500 miles to Kundina in a single day. Nala, acting as his charioteer, accomplishes the feat, and is rewarded by the king with the secret of the highest skill in dicing. Recognised by his wife in spite of his disguise, he regains his true form. He plays again, and wins back his lost kingdom. Thus after years of adventure, sorrow, and humiliation he is at last reunited with Damayanti, with whom he spends the rest of his days in happiness. Though several supernatural and miraculous features like those which occur in fairy tales are found in the episode of Nala, they are not sufficient to mar the spirit of true poetry which pervades the story as a whole. THE PURANAS. Closely connected with the Mahabharata is a distinct class of eighteen epic works, didactic in character and sectarian in purpose, going by the name of Purana. The term purana is already found in the Brahmanas designating cosmogonic inquiries generally. It is also used in the Mahabharata somewhat vaguely to express "ancient legendary lore," implying didactic as well as narrative matter, and pointing to an old collection of epic stories. One passage of the epic (I. v. 1) describes purana as containing stories of the gods and genealogies of the sages. In Book XVIII., as well as in the Harivamça, mention is even made of eighteen Puranas, which, however, have not been preserved; for those known to us are all, on the whole, later than the Mahabharata, and for the most part derive their legends of ancient days from the great epic itself. Nevertheless they contain much that is old; and it is not always possible to assume that the passages they have in common with the Mahabharata and Manu have been borrowed from those works. They are connected by many threads with the old law-books (smritis) and the Vedas, representing probably a development of older works of the same class. In that part of their contents which is peculiar to them, the Puranas agree so closely, being often verbally identical for pages, that they must be derived from some older collection as a common source. Most of them are introduced in exactly the same way as the Mahabharata, Ugraçravas, the son of Lomaharshana, being represented as relating their contents to Çaunaka on the occasion of a sacrifice in the Naimisha forest. The object of most of these legendary compilations is to recommend the sectarian cult of Vishnu, though some of them favour the worship of Çiva. Besides cosmogony, they deal with mythical descriptions of the earth, the doctrine of the cosmic ages, the exploits of ancient gods, saints, and heroes, accounts of the Avatars of Vishnu, the genealogies of the Solar and Lunar race of kings, and enumerations of the thousand names of Vishnu or of Çiva. They also contain rules about the worship of the gods by means of prayers, fastings, votive offerings, festivals, and pilgrimages. The Garuda, as well as the late and unimportant Agni Purana, practically constitute abstracts of the Mahabharata and the Harivamça. The Vayu, which appears to be one of the oldest, coincides in part of its matter with the Mahabharata, but is more closely connected with the Harivamça, the passage which deals with the creation of the world often agreeing verbatim with the corresponding part of the latter poem. The relationship of the Matsya Purana to the great epic and its supplementary book as sources is similarly intimate. It is introduced with the story of Manu and the Fish (Matsya). The Kurma, besides giving an account of the various Avatars of Vishnu (of which the tortoise or kurma is one), of the genealogies of gods and kings, as well as other matters, contains an extensive account of the world in accordance with the accepted cosmological notions of the Mahabharata and of the Puranas in general. The world is here represented as consisting of seven concentric islands separated by different oceans. The central island, with Mount Meru in the middle, is Jambu-dvipa, of which Bharata-varsha, the "kingdom of the Bharatas," or India, is the main division. The Markandeya, which expressly recognises the priority of the Mahabharata, is so called because it is related by the sage Markandeya to explain difficulties suggested by the epic, such as, How could Krishna become a man? Its leading feature is narrative and it is the least sectarian of the Puranas. The extensive Padma Purana, which contains a great many stones agreeing with those of the Mahabharata, is, on the other hand, strongly Vishnuite in tone. Yet this, as well as the Markandeya, expressly states the doctrine of the Tri-murti or Trinity, that Brahma, Vishnu, and Çiva are only one being. This doctrine, already to be found in the Harivamça, is not so prominent in post-Vedic literature as is commonly supposed. It is interesting to note that the story of Rama, as told in the Padma Purana, follows not only the Ramayana but also Kalidasa's account in the Raghuvamça, with which it often agrees literally. Again, the story of Çakuntala is related, not in accordance with the Mahabharata, but with Kalidasa's drama. The Brahma-vaivarta Purana is also strongly sectarian in favour of Vishnu in the form of Krishna. It is to be noted that both here and in the Padma Purana an important part is played by Krishna's mistress Radha, who is unknown to the Harivamça, the Vishnu, and even the Bhagavata Purana. The Vishnu Purana, which very often agrees with the Mahabharata in its subject-matter, corresponds most closely to the Indian definition of a Purana, as treating of the five topics of primary creation, secondary creation, genealogies of gods and patriarchs, reigns of various Manus, and the history of the old dynasties of kings. The Bhagavata Purana, which consists of about 18,000 çlokas, derives its name from being dedicated to the glorification of Bhagavata or Vishnu. It is later than the Vishnu, which it presupposes, probably dating from the thirteenth century. It exercises a more powerful influence in India than any other Purana. The most popular part is the tenth book, which narrates in detail the history of Krishna, and has been translated into perhaps every one of the vernacular languages of India. Other Vishnuite Puranas of a late date are the Brahma, the Naradiya, the Vamana, and the Varaha, the latter two called after the Dwarf and the Boar incarnations of Vishnu. Those which specially favour the cult of Çiva are the Skanda, the Çiva, the Linga, and the Bhavishya or Bhavishyat Puranas. The latter two contain little narrative matter, being rather ritual in character. A Bhavishyat Purana is already mentioned in the Apastamba Dharma Sutra. Besides these eighteen Puranas there is also an equal number of secondary works of the same class called Upa-puranas, in which the epic matter has become entirely subordinate to the ritual element. THE RAMAYANA. Though there is, as we shall see, good reason for supposing that the original part of the Ramayana assumed shape at a time when the Mahabharata was still in a state of flux, we have deferred describing it on account of its connection with the subsequent development of epic poetry in Sanskrit literature. In its present form the Ramayana consists of about 24,000 çlokas, and is divided into seven books. It has been preserved in three distinct recensions, the West Indian (A), the Bengal (B), and the Bombay (C). About one-third of the çlokas in each recension occurs in neither of the other two. The Bombay recension has in most cases preserved the oldest form of the text; for, as the other two arose in the centres of classical Sanskrit literature, where the Gauda and the Vaidarbha styles of composition respectively flourished, the irregularities of the epic language have been removed in them. The Ramayana was here treated as a regular kavya or artificial epic, a fate which the Mahabharata escaped because it early lost its original character, and came to be regarded as a didactic work. These two later recensions must not, however, be looked upon as mere revisions of the Bombay text. The variations of all three are of such a kind that they can for the most part be accounted for only by the fluctuations of oral tradition among the professional reciters of the epic, at the time when the three recensions assumed definite shape in different parts of the country by being committed to writing. After having been thus fixed, the fate of each of these recensions was of course similar to that of any other text. They appear to go back to comparatively early times. For quotations from the Ramayana occurring in works that belong to the eighth and ninth centuries A.D. show that a recension allied to the present C, and probably another allied to the present A, existed at that period. Moreover, Kshemendra's poetical abstract of the epic, the Ramayana-kathasara-manjari, which follows the contents of the original step by step, proves that its author used A, and perhaps B also, in the middle of the eleventh century. Bhoja, the composer of another epitome, the Ramayana-champu, probably used C in the same century. The careful investigations of Professor Jacobi have shown that the Ramayana originally consisted of five books only (ii.-vi.). The seventh is undoubtedly a later addition, for the conclusion of the sixth was evidently at one time the end of the whole poem. Again, the first book has several passages which conflict with statements in the later books. It further contains two tables of contents (in cantos i. and iii.) which were clearly made at different times; for one of them takes no notice of the first and last books, and must, therefore, have been made before these were added. What was obviously a part of the commencement of the original poem has been separated from its continuation at the opening of Book II., and now forms the beginning of the fifth canto of Book I. Some cantos have also been interpolated in the genuine books. As Professor Jacobi shows, all these additions to the original body of the epic have been for the most part so loosely attached that the junctures are easy to recognise. They are, however, pervaded by the same spirit as the older part. There is, therefore, no reason for the supposition that they are due to a Brahman revision intended to transform a poem originally meant for the warrior caste. They seem rather to owe their origin simply to the desire of professional rhapsodists to meet the demands of the popular taste. We are told in the Ramayana itself that the poem was either recited by professional minstrels or sung to the accompaniment of a stringed instrument, being handed down orally, in the first place by Rama's two sons Kuça and Lava. These names are nothing more than the inventions of popular etymology meant to explain the Sanskrit word kuçilava, "bard" or "actor." The new parts were incorporated before the three recensions which have come down to us arose, but a considerable time must have elapsed between the composition of the original poem and that of the additions. For the tribal hero of the former has in the latter been transformed into a national hero, the moral ideal of the people; and the human hero (like Krishna in the Mahabharata) of the five genuine books (excepting a few interpolations) has in the first and last become deified and identified with the god Vishnu, his divine nature in these additions being always present to the minds of their authors. Here, too, Valmiki, the composer of the Ramayana, appears as a contemporary of Rama, and is already regarded as a seer. A long interval of time must have been necessary for such transformations as these. As to the place of its origin, there is good reason for believing that the Ramayana arose in Kosala, the country ruled by the race of Ikshvaku in Ayodhya (Oudh). For we are told in the seventh book (canto 45) that the hermitage of Valmiki lay on the south bank of the Ganges; the poet must further have been connected with the royal house of Ayodhya, as the banished Sita took refuge in his hermitage, where her twin sons were born, brought up, and later learnt the epic from his lips; and lastly, the statement is made in the first book (canto 5) that the Ramayana arose in the family of the Ikshvakus. In Ayodhya, then, there must have been current among the court bards (suta) a number of epic tales narrating the fortunes of the Ikshvaku hero Rama. Such legends, we may assume, Valmiki worked up into a single homogeneous production, which, as the earliest epic of importance conforming to the rules of poetics, justly received the name of adi-kavya, or "first artificial poem," from its author's successors. This work was then learnt by professional rhapsodists (kuçilava) and recited by them in public as they wandered about the country. The original part of the Ramayana appears to have been completed at a time when the epic kernel of the Mahabharata had not as yet assumed definite shape. For while the heroes of the latter are not mentioned in the Ramayana, the story of Rama is often referred to in the longer epic. Again, in a passage of Book VII. of the Mahabharata, which cannot be regarded as a later addition, two lines are quoted as Valmiki's that occur unaltered in Book VI. of the Ramayana. The poem of Valmiki must, therefore, have been generally known as an old work before the Mahabharata assumed a coherent form. In Book III. (cantos 277-291) of the latter epic, moreover, there is a Ramopakhyana or "Episode of Rama," which seems to be based on the Ramayana as it contains several verses agreeing more or less with Valmiki's lines, and its author presupposes on the part of his audience a knowledge of the Ramayana as represented by the Bombay recension. A further question of importance in determining the age of the Ramayana is its relation to Buddhistic literature. Now, the story of Rama is found in a somewhat altered form in one of the Pali Birth-Stories, the Daçaratha Jataka. As this version confines itself to the first part of Rama's adventures, his sojourn in the forest, it might at first sight seem to be the older of the two. There is, however, at least an indication that the second part of the story, the expedition to Lanka, was also known to the author of the Jataka; for while Valmiki's poem concludes with the reunion of Rama and Sita, the Jataka is made to end with the marriage of the couple after the manner of fairy tales, there being at the same time traces that they were wedded all along in the original source of the legend. Moreover, a verse from the old part of the Ramayana (vi. 128) actually occurs in a Pali form embedded in the prose of this Jataka. It might, indeed, be inferred from the greater freedom with which they handle the çloka metre that the canonical Buddhistic writings are older than the Ramayana, in which the çloka is of the classical Sanskrit type. But, as a matter of fact, these Pali works on the whole observe the laws of the classical çloka, their metrical irregularities being most probably caused by the recent application of Pali to literary purposes as well as by the inferior preservation of Pali works. On the other hand, Buddhistic literature early made use of the Arya metre, which, though so popular in classical Sanskrit poetry, is not yet to be found in the Sanskrit epics. The only mention of Buddha in the Ramayana occurs in a passage which is evidently interpolated. Hence the balance of the evidence in relation to Buddhism seems to favour the pre-Buddhistic origin of the genuine Ramayana. The question whether the Greeks were known to the author of our epic is, of course, also of chronological moment. An examination of the poem shows that the Yavanas (Greeks) are only mentioned twice, once in Book I. and once in a canto of Book IV., which Professor Jacobi shows to be an interpolation. The only conclusion to be drawn from this is that the additions to the original poem were made some time after 300 B.C. Professor Weber's assumption of Greek influence in the story of the Ramayana seems to lack foundation. For the tale of the abduction of Sita and the expedition to Lanka for her recovery has no real correspondence with that of the rape of Helen and the Trojan war. Nor is there any sufficient reason to suppose that the account of Rama bending a powerful bow in order to win Sita was borrowed from the adventures of Ulysses. Stories of similar feats of strength for a like object are to be found in the poetry of other nations besides the Greeks, and could easily have arisen independently. The political aspect of Eastern India as revealed by the Ramayana sheds some additional light on the age of the epic. In the first place, no mention is made of the city of Pataliputra (Patna), which was founded by King Kalaçoka (under whom the second Buddhist council was held at Vaiçali about 380 B.C.), and which by the time of Megasthenes (300 B.C.) had become the capital of India. Yet Rama is in Book I. (canto 35) described as passing the very spot where that city stood, and the poet makes a point (in cantos 32-33) of referring to the foundation of a number of cities in Eastern Hindustan, such as Kauçambi, Kanyakubja, and Kampilya, in order to show how far the fame of the Ramayana spread beyond the confines of Kosala, the land of its origin. Had Pataliputra existed at the time, it could not have failed to be mentioned. It is further a noteworthy fact that the capital of Kosala is in the original Ramayana regularly called Ayodhya, while the Buddhists, Jains, Greeks, and Patanjali always give it the name of Saketa. Now in the last book of the Ramayana we are told that Rama's son, Lava, fixed the seat of his government at Çravasti, a city not mentioned at all in the old part of the epic; and in Buddha's time King Prasenajit of Kosala is known to have reigned at Çravasti. All this points to the conclusion that the original Ramayana was composed when the ancient Ayodhya had not yet been deserted, but was still the chief city of Kosala, when its new name of Saketa was still unknown, and before the seat of government was transferred to Çravasti. Again, in the old part of Book I., Mithila and Viçala are spoken of as twin cities under separate rulers, while we know that by Buddha's time they had coalesced to the famous city of Vaiçali, which was then ruled by an oligarchy. The political conditions described in the Ramayana indicate the patriarchal rule of kings possessing only a small territory, and never point to the existence of more complex states; while the references of the poets of the Mahabharata to the dominions in Eastern India ruled by a powerful king, Jarasandha, and embracing many lands besides Magadha, reflect the political conditions of the fourth century B.C. The cumulative evidence of the above arguments makes it difficult to avoid the conclusion that the kernel of the Ramayana was composed before 500 B.C., while the more recent portions were probably not added till the second century B.C. and later. This conclusion does not at first sight seem to be borne out by the linguistic evidence of the Ramayana, For the epic (arsha) dialect of the Bombay recension, which is practically the same as that of the Mahabharata, both betrays a stage of development decidedly later than that of Panini, and is taken no notice of by that grammarian. But it is, for all that, not necessarily later in date. For Panini deals only with the refined Sanskrit of the cultured (çishta), that is to say, of the Brahmans, which would be more archaic than the popular dialect of wandering rhapsodists; and he would naturally have ignored the latter. Now at the time of the Açoka inscriptions, or hardly more than half a century later than Panini, Prakrit was the language of the people in the part of India where the Ramayana was composed. It is, therefore, not at all likely that the Ramayana, which aimed at popularity, should have been composed as late as the time of Panini, when it could not have been generally understood. If the language of the epic is later than Panini, it is difficult to see how it escaped the dominating influence of his grammar. It is more likely that the popular Sanskrit of the epics received general currency at a much earlier date by the composition of a poem like that of Valmiki. A searching comparative investigation of the classical Kavyas will probably show that they are linguistically more closely connected with the old epic poetry, and that they deviate more from the Paninean standard than is usually supposed. In style the Ramayana is already far removed from the naïve popular epic, in which the story is the chief thing, and not its form. Valmiki is rich in similes, which he often cumulates; he not infrequently uses the cognate figure called rupaka or "identification" (e.g. "foot-lotus") with much skill, and also occasionally employs other ornaments familiar to the classical poets, besides approximating to them in the style of his descriptions. The Ramayana, in fact, represents the dawn of the later artificial poetry (kavya), which was in all probability the direct continuation and development of the art handed down by the rhapsodists who recited Valmiki's work. Such a relationship is distinctly recognised by the authors of the great classical epics (mahakavis) when they refer to him as the adi-kavi or "first poet." The story of the Ramayana, as narrated in the five genuine books, consists of two distinct parts. The first describes the events at the court of King Daçaratha at Ayodhya and their consequences. Here we have a purely human and natural account of the intrigues of a queen to set her son upon the throne. There is nothing fantastic in the narrative, nor has it any mythological background. If the epic ended with the return of Rama's brother, Bharata, to the capital, after the old king's death, it might pass for a historical saga. For Ikshvaku, Daçaratha, and Rama are the names of celebrated and mighty kings, mentioned even in the Rigveda, though not there connected with one another in any way. The character of the second part is entirely different. Based on a foundation of myths, it is full of the marvellous and fantastic. The oldest theory as to the significance of the story was that of Lassen, who held that it was intended to represent allegorically the first attempt of the Aryans to conquer the South. But Rama is nowhere described as founding an Aryan realm in the Dekhan, nor is any such intention on his part indicated anywhere in the epic. Weber subsequently expressed the same view in a somewhat modified form. According to him, the Ramayana was meant to account for the spread of Aryan culture to the South and to Ceylon. But this form of the allegorical theory also lacks any confirmation from the statements of the epic itself; for Rama's expedition is nowhere represented as producing any change or improvement in the civilisation of the South. The poet knows nothing about the Dekhan beyond the fact that Brahman hermitages are to be found there. Otherwise it is a region haunted by the monsters and fabulous beings with which an Indian imagination would people an unknown land. There is much more probability in the opinion of Jacobi, that the Ramayana contains no allegory at all, but is based on Indian mythology. The foundation of the second part would thus be a celestial myth of the Veda transformed into a narrative of earthly adventures according to a not uncommon development. Sita, can be traced to the Rigveda, where she appears as the Furrow personified and invoked as a goddess. In some of the Grihya Sutras she again appears as a genius of the ploughed field, is praised as a being of great beauty, and is accounted the wife of Indra or Parjanya, the rain-god. There are traces of this origin in the Ramayana itself. For Sita is represented (i. 66) as having emerged from the earth when her father Janaka was once ploughing, and at last she disappears underground in the arms of the goddess Earth (vii. 97). Her husband, Rama, would be no other than Indra, and his conflict with Ravana, chief of the demons, would represent the Indra-Vritra myth of the Rigveda. This identification is confirmed by the name of Ravana's son being Indrajit, "Conqueror of Indra," or Indraçatru, "Foe of Indra," the latter being actually an epithet of Vritra in the Rigveda. Ravana's most notable feat, the rape of Sita, has its prototype in the stealing of the cows recovered by Indra. Hanumat, the chief of the monkeys and Rama's ally in the recovery of Sita, is the son of the wind-god, with the patronymic Maruti, and is described as flying hundreds of leagues through the air to find Sita. Hence in his figure perhaps survives a reminiscence of Indra's alliance with the Maruts in his conflict with Vritra, and of the dog Sarama, who, as Indra's messenger, crosses the waters of the Rasa and tracks the cows. Sarama recurs as the name of a demoness who consoles Sita in her captivity. The name of Hanumat being Sanskrit, the character is probably not borrowed from the aborigines. As Hanumat is at the present day the tutelary deity of village settlements all over India, Prof. Jacobi's surmise that he must have been connected with agriculture, and may have been a genius of the monsoon, has some probability. The main story of the Ramayana begins with an account of the city of Ayodhya under the rule of the mighty King Daçaratha, the sons of whose three wives, Kauçalya, Kaikeyi, and Sumitra, are Rama, Bharata, and Lakshmana respectively. Rama is married to Sita, daughter of Janaka, king of Videha. Daçaratha, feeling the approach of old age, one day announces in a great assembly that he desires to make Rama heir-apparent, an announcement received with general rejoicing because of Rama's great popularity. Kaikeyi, meanwhile, wishing her son Bharata to succeed, reminds the king that he had once offered her the choice of two boons, of which she had as yet not availed herself. When Daçaratha at last promises to fulfil whatever she may desire, Kaikeyi requests him to appoint Bharata his successor, and to banish Rama for fourteen years. The king, having in vain implored her to retract, passes a sleepless night. Next day, when the solemn consecration of Rama is to take place, Daçaratha sends for his son and informs him of his fate. Rama receives the news calmly and prepares to obey his father's command as his highest duty. Sita and Lakshmana resolve on sharing his fortunes, and accompany him in his exile. The aged king, overcome with grief at parting from his son, withdraws from Kaikeyi, and passing the remainder of his days with Rama's mother, Kauçalya, finally dies lamenting for his banished son. Rama has meanwhile lived peacefully and happily with Sita and his brother in the wild forest of Dandaka. On the death of the old king, Bharata, who in the interval has lived with the parents of his mother, is summoned to the throne. Refusing the succession with noble indignation, he sets out for the forest in order to bring Rama back to Ayodhya. Rama, though much moved by his brother's request, declines to return because he must fulfil his vow of exile. Taking off his gold-embroidered shoes, he gives them to Bharata as a sign that he hands over his inheritance to him. Bharata returning to Ayodhya, places Rama's shoes on the throne, and keeping the royal umbrella over them, holds council and dispenses justice by their side. Rama now sets about the task of combating the formidable giants that infest the Dandaka forest and are a terror to the pious hermits settled there. Having, by the advice of the sage Agastya, procured the weapons of Indra, he begins a successful conflict, in which he slays many thousands of demons. Their chief, Ravana, enraged and determined on revenge, turns one of his followers into a golden deer, which appears to Sita. While Rama and Lakshmana are engaged, at her request, in pursuit of it, Ravana in the guise of an ascetic approaches Sita, carries her off by force, and wounds the vulture Jatayu, which guards her abode. Rama on his return is seized with grief and despair; but, as he is burning the remains of the vulture, a voice from the pyre proclaims to him how he can conquer his foes and recover his wife. He now proceeds to conclude a solemn alliance with the chiefs of the monkeys, Hanumat and Sugriva. With the help of the latter, Rama slays the terrible giant Bali. Hanumat meanwhile crosses from the mainland to the island of Lanka, the abode of Ravana, in search of Sita. Here he finds her wandering sadly in a grove and announces to her that deliverance is at hand. After slaying a number of demons, he returns and reports his discovery to Rama. A plan of campaign is now arranged. The monkeys having miraculously built a bridge from the continent to Lanka with the aid of the god of the sea, Rama leads his army across, slays Ravana, and wins back Sita. After she has purified herself from the suspicion of infidelity by the ordeal of fire, Rama joyfully returns with her to Ayodhya, where he reigns gloriously in association with his faithful brother Bharata, and gladdens his subjects with a new golden age. Such in bare outline is the main story of the Ramayana. By the addition of the first and last books Valmiki's epic has in the following way been transformed into a poem meant to glorify the god Vishnu. Ravana, having obtained from Brahma the boon of being invulnerable to gods, demigods, and demons, abuses his immunity in so terrible a manner that the gods are reduced to despair. Bethinking themselves at last that Ravana had in his arrogance forgotten to ask that he should not be wounded by men, they implore Vishnu to allow himself to be born as a man for the destruction of the demon. Vishnu, consenting, is born as Rama, and accomplishes the task. At the end of the seventh book Brahma and the other gods come to Rama, pay homage to him, and proclaim that he is really Vishnu, "the glorious lord of the discus." The belief here expressed that Rama is an incarnation of Vishnu, the highest god, has secured to the hero of our epic the worship of the Hindus down to the present day. That belief, forming the fundamental doctrine of the religious system of Ramanuja in the twelfth and of Ramananda in the fourteenth century, has done much to counteract the spread of the degrading superstitions and impurities of Çivaism both in the South and in the North of India. The Ramayana contains several interesting episodes, though, of course, far fewer than the Mahabharata. One of them, a thoroughly Indian story, full of exaggerations and impossibilities, is the legend, told in Book I., of the descent of the Ganges. It relates how the sacred river was brought down from heaven to earth in order to purify the remains of the 60,000 sons of King Sagara, who were reduced to ashes by the sage Kapila when his devotions were disturbed by them. Another episode (i. 52-65) is that of Viçvamitra, a powerful king, who comes into conflict with the great sage Vasishtha by endeavouring to take away his miraculous cow by force. Viçvamitra then engages in mighty penances, in which he resists the seductions of beautiful nymphs, and which extend over thousands of years, till he finally attains Brahmanhood, and is reconciled with his rival, Vasishtha. The short episode which relates the origin of the çloka metre is one of the most attractive and poetical. Valmiki in his forest hermitage is preparing to describe worthily the fortunes of Rama. While he is watching a fond pair of birds on the bank of the river, the male is suddenly shot by a hunter, and falls dead on the ground, weltering in his blood. Valmiki, deeply touched by the grief of the bereaved female, involuntarily utters words lamenting the death of her mate and threatening vengeance on the wicked murderer. But, strange to tell, his utterance is no ordinary speech and flows in a melodious stream. As he wanders, lost in thought, towards his hut, Brahma appears and announces to the poet that he has unconsciously created the rhythm of the çloka metre. The deity then bids him compose in this measure the divine poem on the life and deeds of Rama. This story may have a historical significance, for it indicates with some probability that the classical form of the çloka was first fixed by Valmiki, the author of the original part of the Ramayana. The epic contains the following verse foretelling its everlasting fame:-- As long as mountain ranges stand And rivers flow upon the earth: So long will this Ramayana Survive upon the lips of men. This prophecy has been perhaps even more abundantly fulfilled than the well-known prediction of Horace. No product of Sanskrit literature has enjoyed a greater popularity in India down to the present day than the Ramayana. Its story furnishes the subject of many other Sanskrit poems as well as plays, and still delights, from the lips of reciters, the hearts of myriads of the Indian people, as at the great annual Rama festival held at Benares. It has been translated into many Indian vernaculars. Above all, it inspired the greatest poet of mediæval Hindustan, Tulsi Das, to compose in Hindi his version of the epic entitled Ram Charit Manas, which, with its ideal standard of virtue and purity, is a kind of bible to a hundred millions of the people of Northern India. CHAPTER XI KAVYA OR COURT EPIC (Circa 200 B.C.-1100 A.D.) The real history of the Kavya, or artificial epic poetry of India, does not begin till the first half of the seventh century A.D., with the reign of King Harsha-vardhana of Thaneçar and Kanauj (606-648), who ruled over the whole of Northern India, and under whose patronage Bana wrote his historical romance, Harsha-charita, and other works. The date of no Kavya before this landmark has as yet been fixed with certainty. One work, however, which is dominated by the Kavya style, the Brihatsamhita of the astronomer Varahamihira, can without hesitation be assigned to the middle of the sixth century. But as to the date of the most famous classical poets, Kalidasa, Subandhu, Bharavi, Gunadhya, and others, we have no historical authority. The most definite statement that can be made about them is that their fame was widely diffused by about 600 A.D., as is attested by the way in which their names are mentioned in Bana and in an inscription of 634 A.D. Some of them, moreover, like Gunadhya, to whose work Subandhu repeatedly alludes, must certainly belong to a much earlier time. The scanty materials supplied by the poets themselves, which might help to determine their dates, are difficult to utilise, because the history of India, both political and social, during the first five centuries of our era, is still involved in obscurity. With regard to the age of court poetry in general, we have the important literary evidence of the quotations in Patanjali's Mahabhashya, which show that Kavya flourished in his day, and must have been developed before the beginning of our era. Several of these quoted verses are composed in the artificial metres of the classical poetry, while the heroic anushtubh çlokas agree in matter as well as form, not with the popular, but with the court epics. We further know that Açvaghosha's Buddha-charita, or "Doings of Buddha," was translated into Chinese between 414 and 421 A.D. This work not only calls itself a mahakavya, or "great court epic," but is actually written in the Kavya style. Açvaghosha was, according to the Buddhist tradition, a contemporary of King Kanishka, and would thus belong to the first century A.D. In any case, it is evident that his poem could not have been composed later than between 350 and 400 A.D. The mere fact, too, that a Buddhist monk thus early conceived the plan of writing the legend of Buddha according to the rules of the classical Sanskrit epic shows how popular the Brahmanical artificial poetry must have become, at any rate by the fourth century A.D., and probably long before. The progress of epigraphic research during the last quarter of a century has begun to shed considerable light on the history of court poetry during the dark age embracing the first five centuries of our era. Mr. Fleet's third volume of the Corpus Inscriptionum Indicarum contains no fewer than eighteen inscriptions of importance in this respect. These are written mostly in verse, but partly also in elevated prose. They cover a period of two centuries, from about 350 to 550 A.D. Most of them employ the Gupta era, beginning A.D. 319, and first used by Chandragupta II., named Vikramaditya, whose inscriptions and coins range from A.D. 400 to 413. A few of them employ the Malava era, the earlier name of the Vikrama era, which dates from 57 B.C. Several of these inscriptions are praçastis or panegyrics on kings. An examination of them proves that the poetical style prevailing in the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries did not differ from that of the classical Kavyas which have been preserved. Samudragupta, the second of the Gupta line, who belongs to the second half of the fourth century, was, we learn, himself a poet, as well as a supporter of poets. Among the latter was at least one, by name Harishena, who in his panegyric on his royal patron, which consists of some thirty lines (nine stanzas) of poetry and about an equal number of lines of prose, shows a mastery of style rivalling that of Kalidasa and Dandin. In agreement with the rule of all the Sanskrit treatises on poetics, his prose is full of inordinately long compounds, one of them containing more than 120 syllables. In his poetry he, like Kalidasa and others, follows the Vidarbha style, in which the avoidance of long compounds is a leading characteristic. In this style, which must have been fully developed by A.D. 300, is also written an inscription by Virasena, the minister of Chandragupta II., Samudragupta's successor. A very important inscription dates from the year 529 of the Malava (Vikrama) era, or A.D. 473. It consists of a poem of no fewer than forty-four stanzas (containing 150 metrical lines), composed by a poet named Vatsabhatti, to commemorate the consecration of a temple of the sun at Daçapura (now Mandasor). A detailed examination of this inscription not only leads to the conclusion that in the fifth century a rich Kavya literature must have existed, but in particular shows that the poem has several affinities with Kalidasa's writings. The latter fact renders it probable that Vatsabhatti, a man of inferior poetic talent, who professes to have produced his work with effort, knew and utilised the poems of Kalidasa. The reign of Chandragupta Vikramaditya II., at the beginning of the fifth century A.D., therefore seems in the meantime the most probable approximate date for India's greatest poet. Besides the epigraphic evidence of the Gupta period, we have two important literary prose inscriptions of considerable length, one from Girnar and the other from Nasik, both belonging to the second century A.D. They show that even then there existed a prose Kavya style which, in general character and in many details, resembled that of the classical tales and romances. For they not only employ long and frequent compounds, but also the ornaments of alliteration and various kinds of simile and metaphor. Their use of poetical figures is, however, much less frequent and elaborate, occasionally not going beyond the simplicity of the popular epic. They are altogether less artificial than the prose parts of Harishena's Kavya, and à fortiori than the works of Dandin. Subandhu, and Bana. From the Girnar inscription it appears that its author must have been acquainted with a theory of poetics, that metrical Kavyas conforming to the rules of the Vidarbha style were composed in his day, and that poetry of this kind was cultivated at the courts of princes then as in later times. It cannot be supposed that Kavya literature was a new invention of the second century; it must, on the contrary, have passed through a lengthened development before that time. Thus epigraphy not merely confirms the evidence of the Mahabhashya that artificial court poetry originated before the commencement of our era, but shows that that poetry continued to be cultivated throughout the succeeding centuries. These results of the researches of the late Professor Bühler and of Mr. Fleet render untenable Professor Max Müller's well-known theory of the renaissance of Sanskrit literature in the sixth century, which was set forth by that scholar with his usual brilliance in India, what can it Teach us? and which held the field for several years. Professor Max Müller's preliminary assertion that the Indians, in consequence of the incursions of the Çakas (Scythians) and other foreigners, ceased from literary activity during the first two centuries A.D., is refuted by the evidence of the last two inscriptions mentioned above. Any such interruption of intellectual life during that period is, even apart from epigraphical testimony, rendered highly improbable by other considerations. The Scythians, in the first place, permanently subjugated only about one-fifth of India; for their dominion, which does not appear to have extended farther east than Mathura (Muttra), was limited to the Panjab, Sindh, Gujarat, Rajputana, and the Central Indian Agency. The conquerors, moreover, rapidly became Hinduised. Most of them already had Indian names in the second generation. One of them, Ushabhadata (the Sanskrit Rishabhadatta), described his exploits in an inscription composed in a mixture of Sanskrit and Prakrit. Kanishka himself (78 A.D.), as well as his successors, was a patron of Buddhism; and national Indian architecture and sculpture attained a high development at Mathura under these rulers. When the invaders thus rapidly acquired the civilisation of the comparatively small portion of India they conquered, there is no reason to assume the suppression of literary activity in that part of the country, much less in India as a whole. The main thesis of Professor Max Müller is, that in the middle of the sixth century A.D. the reign of a King Vikramaditya of Ujjain, with whom tradition connected the names of Kalidasa and other distinguished authors, was the golden age of Indian court poetry. This renaissance theory is based on Fergusson's ingenious chronological hypothesis that a supposed King Vikrama of Ujjain, having expelled the Scythians from India, in commemoration of his victory founded the Vikrama era in 544 A.D., dating its commencement back 600 years to 57 B.C. The epigraphical researches of Mr. Fleet have destroyed Fergusson's hypothesis. From these researches it results that the Vikrama era of 57 B.C., far from having been founded in 544 A.D., had already been in use for more than a century previously under the name of the Malava era (which came to be called the Vikrama era about 800 A.D.). It further appears that no Çakas (Scythians) could have been driven out of Western India in the middle of the sixth century, because that country had already been conquered by the Guptas more than a hundred years before. Lastly, it turns out that, though other foreign conquerors, the Hunas, were actually expelled from Western India in the first half of the sixth century, they were driven out, not by a Vikramaditya, but by a king named Yaçodharman Vishnuvardhana. Thus the great King Vikramaditya vanishes from the historical ground of the sixth century into the realm of myth. With Vikramaditya an often-quoted but ill-authenticated verse occurring in a work of the sixteenth century associates Dhanvantari, Kshapanaka, Amarasimha, Varahamihira, and Vararuchi as among the "nine gems" of his court. With the disappearance of Vikrama from the sixth century A.D. this verse has lost all chronological validity with reference to the date of the authors it enumerates; it is even inadmissible to conclude from such legendary testimony that they were contemporaries. Even though one of them, Varahamihira, actually does belong to the sixth century, each of them can now only be placed in the sixth century separately and by other arguments. Apart from the mythical Vikramaditya, there is now no reason to suppose that court poetry attained a special development in that century, for Harishena's paneygyric, and some other epigraphic poems of the Gupta period, show that it flourished greatly at least two hundred years earlier. None of the other arguments by which it has been attempted to place Kalidasa separately in the sixth century have any cogency. One of the chief of these is derived from the explanation given by the fourteenth-century commentator, Mallinatha, of the word dignaga, "world-elephant," occurring in the 14th stanza of Kalidasa's Meghaduta. He sees in it a punning allusion to Dignaga, a hated rival of the poet. This explanation, to begin with, is extremely dubious in itself. Then it is uncertain whether Mallinatha means the Buddhist teacher Dignaga. Thirdly, little weight can be attached to the Buddhistic tradition that Dignaga was a pupil of Vasubandhu, for this statement is not found till the sixteenth century. Fourthly, the assertion that Vasubandhu belongs to the sixth century depends chiefly on the Vikramaditya theory, and is opposed to Chinese evidence, which indicates that works of Vasubandhu were translated in A.D. 404. Thus every link in the chain of this argument is very weak. The other main argument is that Kalidasa must have lived after Aryabhata (A.D. 499), because he shows a knowledge of the scientific astronomy borrowed from the Greeks. But it has been shown by Dr. Thibaut that an Indian astronomical treatise, undoubtedly written under Greek influence, the Romaka Siddhanta, is older than Aryabhata, and cannot be placed later than A.D. 400. It may be added that a passage of Kalidasa's Raghuvamça (xiv. 40) has been erroneously adduced in support of the astronomical argument, as implying that eclipses of the moon are due to the shadow of the earth: it really refers only to the spots in the moon as caused, in accordance with the doctrine of the Puranas, by a reflection of the earth. Thus there is, in the present state of our knowledge, good reason to suppose that Kalidasa lived not in the sixth, but in the beginning of the fifth century A.D. The question of his age, however, is not likely to be definitely solved till the language, the style, and the poetical technique of each of his works have been minutely investigated, in comparison with datable epigraphic documents, as well as with the rules given by the oldest Sanskrit treatises on poetics. As the popular epic poetry of the Mahabharata was the chief source of the Puranas, so the Ramayana, the earliest artificial epic, was succeeded, though after a long interval of time, by a number of Kavyas ranging from the fifth to the twelfth century. While in the old epic poetry form is subordinated to matter, it is of primary importance in the Kavyas, the matter becoming more and more merely a means for the display of tricks of style. The later the author of a Kavya is, the more he seeks to win the admiration of his audience by the cleverness of his conceits and the ingenuity of his diction, appealing always to the head rather than the heart. Even the very best of the Kavyas were composed in more strict conformity, with fixed rules than the poetry of any other country. For not only is the language dominated by the grammatical rules of Panini, but the style is regulated by the elaborate laws about various forms of alliteration and figures of speech laid down in the treatises on poetics. The two most important Kavyas are Kalidasa's Raghuvamça and Kumara-sambhava, both distinguished by independence of treatment as well as considerable poetical beauty. They have several stanzas in common, many others which offer but slight variations, and a large number of passages which, though differing in expression, are strikingly analogous in thought. In both poems, too, the same metre is employed to describe the same situation. In both poems each canto is, as a rule, composed in one metre, but changes with the beginning of the new canto. The prevailing metres are the classical form of the anushtubh and the upajati, a development of the Vedic trishtubh. The Raghuvamça, or "Race of Raghu," which consists of nineteen cantos, describes the life of Rama together with an account of his forefathers and successors. The first nine cantos deal with his nearest four ancestors, beginning with Dilipa and his son Raghu. The story of Rama occupies the next six (x.-xv.), and agrees pretty closely with that in the Ramayana of Valmiki, whom Kalidasa here (xv. 41) speaks of as "the first poet." The following two cantos are concerned with the three nearest descendants of Rama, while the last two run through the remainder of twenty-four kings who reigned in Ayodhya as his descendants, ending rather abruptly with the death of the voluptuous King Agnivarna. The names of these successors of Rama agree closely with those in the list given in the Vishnu-purana. The narrative in the Raghuvamça moves with some rapidity, not being too much impeded by long descriptions. It abounds with apt and striking similes and contains much genuine poetry, while the style, for a Kavya, is simple, though many passages are undoubtedly too artificial for the European taste. The following stanza, sung by a bard whose duty it is to waken the king in the morning (v. 75), may serve as a specimen-- The flow'rs to thee presented droop and fade, The lamps have lost the wreath of rays they shed, Thy sweet-voiced parrot, in his cage confined, Repeats the call we sound to waken thee. More than twenty commentaries on the Raghuvamça are known. The most famous is the Samjivani of Mallinatha, who explains every word of the text, and who has the great merit of endeavouring to find out and preserve the readings of the poet himself. He knew a number of earlier commentaries, among which he names with approval those of Dakshinavarta and Natha. The latter no longer exist. Among the other extant commentaries may be mentioned the Subodhini, composed by Dinakara Miçra in 1385, and the Çiçuhitaishini, by a Jain named Charitravardhana, of which Dinakara's work appears to be an epitome. The Kumara-sambhava, or the "Birth of the War-god," consists, when complete, of seventeen cantos. The first seven are entirely devoted to the courtship and wedding of the god Çiva and of Parvati, daughter of Himalaya, the parents of the youthful god. This fact in itself indicates that description is the prevailing characteristic of the poem. It abounds in that poetical miniature painting in which lies the chief literary strength of the Indian. Affording the poet free scope for the indulgence of his rich and original imaginative powers, it is conspicuous for wealth of illustration. The following rendering of a stanza in the Viyogini metre (in which lines of ten and eleven syllables ending iambically alternate) may serve as a specimen. The poet shows how the duty of a wife following her husband in death is exemplified even by objects in Nature poetically conceived as spouses-- After the Lord of Night the moonlight goes, Along with the cloud the lightning is dissolved: Wives ever follow in their husbands' path; Even things bereft of sense obey this law. Usually the first seven cantos only are to be found in the printed editions, owing to the excessively erotic character of the remaining ten. The poem concludes with an account of the destruction of the demon Taraka, the object for which the god of war was born. More than twenty commentaries on the Kumara-sambhava have been preserved. Several of them are by the same authors, notably Mallinatha, as those on the Raghuvamça. The subject-matter of the later Kavyas, which is derived from the two great epics, becomes more and more mixed up with lyric, erotic, and didactic elements. It is increasingly regarded as a means for the display of elaborate conceits, till at last nothing remains but bombast and verbal jugglery. The Bhatti-kavya, written in Valabhi under King Çridharasena, probably in the seventh century, and ascribed by various commentators to the poet and grammarian Bhartrihari (died 651 A.D.), deals in 22 cantos with the story of Rama, but only with the object of illustrating the forms of Sanskrit grammar. The Kiratarjuniya describes, in eighteen cantos, the combat, first narrated in the Mahabharata, between Çiva, in the guise of a Kirata or mountaineer, and Arjuna. It cannot have been composed later than the sixth century, as its author, Bharavi, is mentioned in an inscription of 634 A.D. The fifteenth canto of this poem contains a number of stanzas illustrating all kinds of verbal tricks like those described in Dandin's Kavyadarça. Thus one stanza (14) contains no consonant but n (excepting a t at the end); [10] while each half-line in a subsequent one (25), if its syllables be read backwards, is identical with the other half. [11] The Çiçupala-vadha, or "Death of Çiçupala," describes, in twenty cantos, how that prince, son of a king of Chedi, and cousin of Krishna, was slain by Vishnu. Having been composed by the poet Magha, it also goes by the name of Magha-kavya. It probably dates from the ninth, and must undoubtedly have been composed before the end of the tenth century. The nineteenth canto is full of metrical puzzles, some of a highly complex character (e.g. 29). It contains an example of a stanza (34) which, if read backwards, is identical with the preceding one read in the ordinary way. At the same time this Kavya is, as a whole, by no means lacking in poetical beauties and striking thoughts. The Naishadhiya (also called Naishadha-charita), in twenty-two cantos, deals with the story of Nala, king of Nishada, the well-known episode of the Mahabharata. It was composed by Çriharsha, who belongs to the latter half of the twelfth century. These six artificial epics are recognised as Mahakavyas, or "Great Poems," and have all been commented on by Mallinatha. The characteristics of this higher class are set forth by Dandin in his Kavyadarça, or "Mirror of Poetry" (i. 14-19). Their subjects must be derived from epic story (itihasa), they should be extensive, and ought to be embellished with descriptions of cities, seas, mountains, seasons, sunrise, weddings, battles fought by the hero, and so forth. An extensive Mahakavya, in fifty cantos, is the Haravijaya, or "Victory of Çiva," by a Kashmirian poet named Ratnakara, who belongs to the ninth century. Another late epic, narrating the fortunes of the same hero as the Naishadhiya, is the Nalodaya, or "Rise of Nala," which describes the restoration to power of King Nala after he had lost his all. Though attributed to Kalidasa, it is unmistakably the product of a much later age. The chief aim of the author is to show off his skill in the manipulation of the most varied and artificial metres, as well as all the elaborate tricks of style exhibited in the latest Kavyas. Rhyme even is introduced, and that, too, not only at the end of, but within metrical lines. The really epic material is but scantily treated, narrative making way for long descriptions and lyrical effusions. Thus the second and longest of the four cantos of the poem is purely lyrical, describing only the bliss of the newly-wedded pair, with all kinds of irrelevant additions. The culmination of artificiality is attained by the Raghava-pandaviya, a poem composed by Kaviraja, who perhaps flourished about A.D. 800. It celebrates simultaneously the actions of Raghava or Rama and of the Pandava princes. The composition is so arranged that by the use of ambiguous words and phrases the story of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata is told at one and the same time. The same words, according to the sense in which they are understood, narrate the events of each epic. A tour de force of this kind is doubtless unique in the literatures of the world. Kaviraja has, however, found imitators in India itself. A Mahakavya which is as yet only known in MS. is the Navasahasanka-charita, a poem celebrating the doings of Navasahasanka, otherwise Sindhuraja, a king of Malava, and composed by a poet named Padmagupta, who lived about 1000 A.D. It consists of eighteen cantos, containing over 1500 stanzas in nineteen different metres. The poet refrains from the employment of metrical tricks; but he greatly impedes the progress of the narrative by introducing interminable speeches and long-winded descriptions. We may mention, in conclusion, that there is also an epic in Prakrit which is attributed to Kalidasa. This is the Setu-bandha, "Building of the Bridge," or Ravanavadha, "Death of Ravana," which relates the story of Rama. It is supposed to have been composed by the poet to commemorate the building of a bridge of boats across the Vitasta (Jhelum) by King Pravarasena of Kashmir. There are a few prose romances dating from the sixth and seventh centuries, which being classed as Kavyas by the Sanskrit writers on poetics, may be mentioned in this place. The abundant use of immense compounds, which of course makes them very difficult reading, is an essential characteristic of the style of these works. As to their matter, they contain but little action, consisting largely of scenes which are strung together by a meagre thread of narrative, and are made the occasion of lengthy descriptions full of long strings of comparisons and often teeming with puns. In spite, however, of their highly artificial and involved style, many really poetical thoughts may be found embedded in what to the European taste is an unattractive setting. The Daça-kumara-charita, or "Adventures of the Ten Princes," contains stories of common life and reflects a corrupt state of society. It is by Dandin, and probably dates from the sixth century A.D. Vasavadatta, by Subandhu, relates the popular story of the heroine Vasavadatta, princess of Ujjayini, and Udayana, king of Vatsa. It was probably written quite at the beginning of the seventh century. Slightly later is Bana's Kadambari, a poetical romance narrating the fortunes of a princess of that name. Another work of a somewhat similar character by the same author is the Harsha-charita, a romance in eight chapters, in which Bana attempts to give some account of the life of King Harshavardhana of Kanauj. There is, however, but little narrative. Thus in twenty-five pages of the eighth chapter there are to be found five long descriptions, extending on the average to two pages, to say nothing of shorter ones. There is, for instance, a long disquisition, covering four pages, and full of strings of comparisons, about the miseries of servitude. A servant, "like a painted bow, is for ever bent in the one act of distending a string of imaginary virtues, but there is no force in him; like a heap of dust-sweepings gathered by a broom, he carries off toilet-leavings; like the meal offered to the Divine Mothers, he is cast out into space even at night; like a pumping machine, he has left all weight behind him and bends even for water," and so on. Soon after comes a description, covering two pages, of the trees in a forest. This is immediately followed by another page enumerating the various kinds of students thronging the wood in order to avail themselves of the teaching of a great Buddhist sage; they even include monkeys busily engaged in ritual ceremonies, devout parrots expounding a Buddhist dictionary, owls lecturing on the various births of Buddha, and tigers who have given up eating flesh under the calming influence of Buddhist teaching. Next comes a page describing the sage himself. "He was clad in a very soft red cloth, as if he were the eastern quarter of the sky bathed in the morning sunshine, teaching the other quarters to assume the red Buddhist attire, while they were flushed with the pure red glow of his body like a ruby freshly cut." Soon after comes a long account, bristling with puns, of a disconsolate princess lying prostrate in the wood--"lost in the forest and in thought, bent upon death and the root of a tree, fallen upon calamity and her nurse's bosom, parted from her husband and happiness, burned with the fierce sunshine and the woes of widowhood, her mouth closed with silence as well as by her hand, and held fast by her companions as well as by grief. I saw her with her kindred and her graces all gone, her ears and her soul left bare, her ornaments and her aims abandoned, her bracelets and her hopes broken, her companions and the needle-like grass-spears clinging round her feet, her eye and her beloved fixed within her bosom, her sighs and her hair long, her limbs and her merits exhausted, her aged attendants and her streaming tears falling down at her feet," and so forth. CHAPTER XII LYRIC POETRY (Circa 400-1100 A.D.) Sanskrit lyrical poetry has not produced many works of any considerable length. But among these are included two of the most perfect creations of Kalidasa, a writer distinguished no less in this field than as an epic and a dramatic author. His lyrical talent is, indeed, also sufficiently prominent in his plays. Kalidasa's Meghaduta, or "Cloud Messenger," is a lyrical gem which won the admiration of Goethe. It consists of 115 stanzas composed in the Mandakranta metre of four lines of seventeen syllables. The theme is a message which an exile sends by a cloud to his wife dwelling far away. The idea is applied by Schiller in his Maria Stuart, where the captive Queen of Scots calls on the clouds as they fly southwards to greet the land of her youth (act iii. sc. 1). The exile is a Yaksha or attendant of Kubera, the god of wealth, who for neglect of his duty has been banished to the groves on the slopes of Ramagiri in Central India. Emaciated and melancholy, he sees, at the approach of the rainy season, a dark cloud moving northwards. The sight fills his heart with yearning, and impels him to address to the cloud a request to convey a message of hope to his wife in the remote Himalaya. In the first half of the poem the Yaksha describes with much power and beauty the various scenes the cloud must traverse on its northward course: Mount Amrakuta, on whose peak it will rest after quenching with showers the forest fires; the Narmada, winding at the foot of the Vindhya hills; the town of Vidiça (Bhilsa), and the stream of the Vetravati (Betwah); the city of Ujjayini (Ujjain) in the land of Avanti; the sacred region of Kurukshetra; the Ganges and the mountains from which she sprang, white with snowfields, till Alaka on Mount Kailasa is finally reached. In the second half of the poem the Yaksha first describes the beauties of this city and his own dwelling there. Going on to paint in glowing colours the charms of his wife, her surroundings, and her occupations, he imagines her tossing on her couch, sleepless and emaciated, through the watches of the night. Then, when her eye rests on the window, the cloud shall proclaim to her with thunder-sound her husband's message, that he is still alive and ever longs to behold her:-- In creepers I discern thy form, in eyes of startled hinds thy glances, And in the moon thy lovely face, in peacocks' plumes thy shining tresses; The sportive frown upon thy brow in flowing waters' tiny ripples: But never in one place combined can I, alas! behold thy likeness. But courage, he says; our sorrow will end at last--we shall be re-united-- And then we will our hearts' desire, grown more intense by separation, Enjoy in nights all glorious and bright, with full-orbed autumn moonlight. Then begging the cloud, after delivering his message, to return with reassuring news, the exile finally dismisses him with the hope that he may never, even for a moment, be divided from his lightning spouse. Besides the expression of emotion, the descriptive element is very prominent in this fine poem. This is still more true of Kalidasa's Ritusamhara, or "Cycle of the Seasons." That little work, which consists of 153 stanzas in six cantos, and is composed in various metres, is a highly poetical description of the six seasons into which classical Sanskrit poets usually divide the Indian year. With glowing descriptions of the beauties of Nature, in which erotic scenes are interspersed, the poet adroitly interweaves the expression of human emotions. Perhaps no other work of Kalidasa's manifests so strikingly the poet's deep sympathy with Nature, his keen powers of observation, and his skill in depicting an Indian landscape in vivid colours. The poem opens with an account of summer. If the glow of the sun is then too great during the day, the moonlit nights are all the more delightful to lovers. The moon, beholding the face of beauteous maidens, is beside itself with jealousy; then, too, it is that the heart of the wanderer is burnt by the fire of separation. Next follows a brilliant description of the effects of the heat: the thirst or lethargy it produces in serpent, lion, elephant, buffalo, boar, gazelle, peacock, crane, frogs, and fishes; the devastation caused by the forest fire which devours trees and shrubs, and drives before it crowds of terror-stricken beasts. The close heat is succeeded by the rains, which are announced by the approach of the dark heavy clouds with their banner of lightning and drum of thunder. Slowly they move accompanied by chataka birds, fabled to live exclusively on raindrops, till at length they discharge their water. The wild streams, like wanton girls, grasp in a trice the tottering trees upon their banks, as they rush onwards to the sea. The earth becomes covered with young blades of grass, and the forests clothe themselves with golden buds-- The mountains fill the soul with yearning thoughts of love, When rain-charged clouds bend down to kiss the tow'ring rocks, When all around upon their slopes the streams gush down, And throngs of peacocks that begin to dance are seen. Next comes the autumn, beauteous as a newly-wedded bride, with face of full-blown lotuses, with robe of sugarcane and ripening rice, with the cry of flamingoes representing the tinkling of her anklets. The graceful creepers vie with the arms of lovely women, and the jasmine, showing through the crimson açoka blossoms, rivals the dazzling teeth and red lips of smiling maidens. Winter follows, when the rice ripens, while the lotus fades and the fields in the morning are covered with rime-- Then the Priyangu creeper, reaching ripeness, Buffeted constantly by chilling breezes, Grows, O Beloved, ever pale and paler, Like lonely maiden from her lover parted. This is the time dear to lovers, whose joys the poet describes in glowing colours. In the cold season a fire and the mild rays of the sun are pleasant. The night does not attract lovers now, for the moonbeams are cold and the light of the stars is pale. The poet dwells longest on the delights of spring, the last of the six seasons. It is then that maidens, with karnikara flowers on their ears, with red açoka blossoms and sprays of jasmine in their locks, go to meet their lovers. Then the hum of intoxicated bees is heard, and the note of the Indian cuckoo; then the blossoms of the mango-tree are seen: these are the sharp arrows wherewith the god of the flowery bow enflames the hearts of maidens to love. A lyric poem of a very artificial character, and consisting of only twenty-two stanzas, is the Ghata-karpara, or "Potsherd," called after the author's name, which is worked into the last verse. The date of the poet is unknown. He is mentioned as one of the "nine gems" at the court of the mythical Vikramaditya in the verse already mentioned. The Chaura-panchaçika, or "Fifty Stanzas of the Thief," is a lyrical poem which contains many beauties. Its author was the Kashmirian Bilhana, who belongs to the later half of the eleventh century. According to the romantic tradition, this poet secretly enjoyed the love of a princess, and when found out was condemned to death. He thereupon composed fifty stanzas, each beginning with the words "Even now I remember," in which he describes with glowing enthusiasm the joys of love he had experienced. Their effect on the king was so great that he forgave the poet and bestowed on him the hand of his daughter. The main bulk of the lyrical creations of mediæval India are not connected poems of considerable length, but consist of that miniature painting which, as with a few strokes, depicts an amatory situation or sentiment in a single stanza of four lines. These lyrics are in many respects cognate to the sententious poetry which the Indians cultivated with such eminent success. Bearing evidence of great wealth of observation and depth of feeling, they are often drawn by a master-hand. Many of them are in matter and form gems of perfect beauty. Some of their charm is, however, lost in translation owing to the impossibility of reproducing the elaborate metres employed in the original. Several Sanskrit poets composed collections of these miniature lyrics. The most eminent of these authors is Bhartrihari, grammarian, philosopher, and poet in one. Only the literary training of India could make such a combination possible, and even there it has hardly a parallel. Bhartrihari lived in the first half of the seventh century. The Chinese traveller I Tsing, who spent more than twenty years in India at the end of that century, records that, having turned Buddhist monk, the poet again became a layman, and fluctuated altogether seven times between the monastery and the world. Bhartrihari blamed himself for, but could not overcome, his inconstancy. He wrote three centuries of detached stanzas. Of the first and last, which are sententious in character, there will be occasion to say something later. Only the second, entitled Çringara-çataka, or "Century of Love," deals with erotic sentiment. Here Bhartrihari, in graceful and meditative verse, shows himself to be well acquainted both with the charms of women and with the arts by which they captivate the hearts of men. Who, he asks in one of these miniature poems, is not filled with yearning thoughts of love in spring, when the air swoons with the scent of the mango blossom and is filled with the hum of bees intoxicated with honey? In another he avers that none can resist the charms of lotus-eyed maidens, not even learned men, whose utterances about renouncing love are mere idle words. The poet himself laments that, when his beloved is away, the brightness goes out of his life-- Beside the lamp, the flaming hearth, In light of sun or moon and stars, Without my dear one's lustrous eyes This world is wholly dark to me. At the same time he warns the unwary against reflecting over-much on female beauty-- Let not thy thoughts, O Wanderer, Roam in that forest, woman's form: For there a robber ever lurks, Ready to strike--the God of Love. In another stanza the Indian Cupid appears as a fisherman, who, casting on the ocean of this world a hook called woman, quickly catches men as fishes eager for the bait of ruddy lips, and bakes them in the fire of love. Strange are the contradictions in which the poet finds himself involved by loving a maiden-- Remembered she but causes pain; At sight of her my madness grows; When touched, she makes my senses reel: How, pray, can such an one be loved? So towards the end of the Century the poet's heart begins to turn from the allurements of love. "Cease, maiden," he exclaims, "to cast thy glances on me: thy trouble is in vain. I am an altered man; youth has gone by and my thoughts are bent on the forest; my infatuation is over, and the whole world I now account but as a wisp of straw." Thus Bhartrihari prepares the way for his third collection, the "Century of Renunciation." A short but charming treasury of detached erotic verses is the Çringara-tilaka, which tradition attributes to Kalidasa. In its twenty-three stanzas occur some highly imaginative analogies, worked out with much originality. In one of them, for instance, the poet asks how it comes that a maiden, whose features and limbs resemble various tender flowers, should have a heart of stone. In another he compares his mistress to a hunter-- This maiden like a huntsman is; Her brow is like the bow he bends; Her sidelong glances are his darts; My heart's the antelope she slays. The most important lyrical work of this kind is the Amaruçataka, or "Hundred stanzas of Amaru." The author is a master in the art of painting lovers in all their moods, bliss and dejection, anger and devotion. He is especially skilful in depicting the various stages of estrangement and reconciliation. It is remarkable how, with a subject so limited, in situations and emotions so similar, the poet succeeds in arresting the attention with surprising turns of thought, and with subtle touches which are ever new. The love which Amaru as well as other Indian lyrists portrays is not of the romantic and ideal, but rather of the sensuous type. Nevertheless his work often shows delicacy of feeling and refinement of thought. Such, for instance, is the case when he describes a wife watching in the gloaming for the return of her absent husband. Many lyrical gems are to be found preserved in the Sanskrit treatises on poetics. One such is a stanza on the red açoka. In this the poet asks the tree to say whither his mistress has gone; it need not shake its head in the wind, as if to say it did not know; for how could it be flowering so brilliantly had it not been touched by the foot of his beloved? [12] In all this lyrical poetry the plant and animal world plays an important part and is treated with much charm. Of flowers, the lotus is the most conspicuous. One of these stanzas, for example, describes the day-lotuses as closing their calyx-eyes in the evening, because unwilling to see the sun, their spouse and benefactor, sink down bereft of his rays. Another describes with pathetic beauty the dream of a bee: "The night will pass, the fair dawn will come, the sun will rise, the lotuses will laugh;" while a bee thus mused within the calyx, an elephant, alas! tore up the lotus plant. Various birds to which poetical myths are attached are frequently introduced as furnishing analogies to human life and love. The chataka, which would rather die of thirst than drink aught but the raindrops from the cloud, affords an illustration of pride. The chakora, supposed to imbibe the rays of the moon, affords a parallel to the lover who with his eyes drinks in the beams of his beloved's face. The chakravaka, which, fabled to be condemned to nocturnal separation from his mate, calls to her with plaintive cry during the watches of the night, serves as an emblem of conjugal fidelity. In all this lyric poetry the bright eyes and beauty of Indian girls find a setting in scenes brilliant with blossoming trees, fragrant with flowers, gay with the plumage and vocal with the song of birds, diversified with lotus ponds steeped in tropical sunshine and with large-eyed gazelles reclining in the shade. Some of its gems are well worthy of having inspired the genius of Heine to produce such lyrics as Die Lotosblume and Auf Flügeln des Gesanges. A considerable amount of lyrical poetry of the same type has also been produced in Prakrit, especially in the extensive anthology entitled Saptaçataka, or "Seven Centuries," of the poet Hala, who probably lived before A.D. 1000. It contains many beauties, and is altogether a rich treasury of popular Indian lyrical poetry. It must suffice here to refer to but one of the stanzas contained in this collection. In this little poem the moon is described as a white swan sailing on the pure nocturnal lake of the heavens, studded with starry lotuses. The transitional stage between pure lyric and pure drama is represented by the Gitagovinda, or "Cowherd in Song," a lyrical drama, which, though dating from the twelfth century, is the earliest literary specimen of a primitive type of play that still survives in Bengal, and must have preceded the regular dramas. The poem contains no dialogue in the proper sense, for its three characters only engage in a kind of lyrical monologue, of which one of the other two is supposed to be an auditor, sometimes even no one at all. The subject of the poem is the love of Krishna for the beautiful cowherdess Radha, the estrangement of the lovers, and their final reconciliation. It is taken from that episode of Krishna's life in which he himself was a herdsman (go-vinda), living on the banks of the Yamuna, and enjoying to the full the love of the cowherdesses. The only three characters of the poem are Krishna, Radha, and a confidante of the latter. Its author, Jayadeva, was probably a native of Bengal, having been a contemporary of a Bengal king named Lakshmanasena. It is probable that he took as his model popular plays representing incidents from the life of Krishna, as the modern yatras in Bengal still do. The latter festival plays even now consist chiefly of lyrical stanzas, partly recited and partly sung, the dialogue being but scanty, and to a considerable extent left to improvisation. On such a basis Jayadeva created his highly artificial poem. The great perfection of form he has here attained, by combining grace of diction with ease in handling the most difficult metres, has not failed to win the admiration of all who are capable of reading the original Sanskrit. Making abundant use of alliteration and the most complex rhymes occurring, as in the Nalodaya, not only at the end, but in the middle of metrical lines, [13] the poet has adapted the most varied and melodious measures to the expression of exuberant erotic emotions, with a skill which could not be surpassed. It seems impossible to reproduce Jayadeva's verse adequately in an English garb. The German poet Rückert, has, however, come as near to the highly artificial beauty of the original, both in form and matter, as is feasible in any translation. It is somewhat strange that a poem which describes the transports of sensual love with all the exuberance of an Oriental fancy should, in the present instance, and not for the first time, have received an allegorical explanation in a mystical religious sense. According to Indian interpreters, the separation of Krishna and Radha, their seeking for each other, and their final reconciliation represent the relation of the supreme deity to the human soul. This may possibly have been the intention of Jayadeva, though only as a leading idea, not to be followed out in detail. CHAPTER XIII THE DRAMA (Circa 400-1000 A.D.) To the European mind the history of the Indian drama cannot but be a source of abundant interest; for here we have an important branch of literature which has had a full and varied national development, quite independent of Western influence, and which throws much light on Hindu social customs during the five or six centuries preceding the Muhammadan conquest. The earliest forms of dramatic literature in India are represented by those hymns of the Rigveda which contain dialogues, such as those of Sarama and the Panis, Yama and Yami, Pururavas and Urvaçi, the latter, indeed, being the foundation of a regular play composed much more than a thousand years later by the greatest dramatist of India. The origin of the acted drama is, however, wrapt in obscurity. Nevertheless, the evidence of tradition and of language suffice to direct us with considerable probability to its source. The words for actor (nata) and play (nataka) are derived from the verb nat, the Prakrit or vernacular form of the Sanskrit nrit, "to dance." The name is familiar to English ears in the form of nautch, the Indian dancing of the present day. The latter, indeed, probably represents the beginnings of the Indian drama. It must at first have consisted only of rude pantomime, in which the dancing movements of the body were accompanied by mute mimicking gestures of hand and face. Songs, doubtless, also early formed an ingredient in such performances. Thus Bharata, the name of the mythical inventor of the drama, which in Sanskrit also means "actor," in several of the vernaculars signifies "singer," as in the Gujarati Bharot. The addition of dialogue was the last step in the development, which was thus much the same in India and in Greece. This primitive stage is represented by the Bengal yatras and the Gitagovinda. These form the transition to the fully-developed Sanskrit play in which lyrics and dialogue are blended. The earliest references to the acted drama are to be found in the Mahabhashya, which mentions representations of the Kamsavadha, the "Slaying of Kamsa," and the Balibandha, or "Binding of Bali," episodes in the history of Krishna. Indian tradition describes Bharata as having caused to be acted before the gods a play representing the svayamvara of Lakshmi, wife of Vishnu. Tradition further makes Krishna and his cowherdesses the starting-point of the samgita, a representation consisting of a mixture of song, music, and dancing. The Gitagovinda is concerned with Krishna, and the modern yatras generally represent scenes from the life of that deity. From all this it seems likely that the Indian drama was developed in connection with the cult of Vishnu-Krishna, and that the earliest acted representations were therefore, like the mysteries of the Christian Middle Ages, a kind of religious plays, in which scenes from the legend of the god were enacted mainly with the aid of song and dance, supplemented with prose dialogue improvised by the performers. The drama has had a rich and varied development in India, as is shown not only by the numerous plays that have been preserved, but by the native treatises on poetics which contain elaborate rules for the construction and style of plays. Thus the Sahitya-darpana, or "Mirror of Rhetoric," divides Sanskrit dramas into two main classes, a higher (rupaka) and a lower (uparupaka), and distinguishes no fewer than ten species of the former and eighteen of the latter. The characteristic features of the Indian drama which strike the Western student are the entire absence of tragedy, the interchange of lyrical stanzas with prose dialogue, and the use of Sanskrit for some characters and of Prakrit for others. The Sanskrit drama is a mixed composition, in which joy is mingled with sorrow, in which the jester usually plays a prominent part, while the hero and heroine are often in the depths of despair. But it never has a sad ending. The emotions of terror, grief, or pity, with which the audience are inspired, are therefore always tranquillised by the happy termination of the story. Nor may any deeply tragic incident take place in the course of the play; for death is never allowed to be represented on the stage. Indeed nothing considered indecorous, whether of a serious or comic character, is allowed to be enacted in the sight or hearing of the spectators, such as the utterance of a curse, degradation, banishment, national calamity, biting, scratching, kissing, eating, or sleeping. Sanskrit plays are full of lyrical passages describing scenes or persons presented to view, or containing reflections suggested by the incidents that occur. They usually consist of four-line stanzas. Çakuntala contains nearly two hundred such, representing something like one half of the whole play. These lyrical passages are composed in a great many different metres. Thus the first thirty-four stanzas of Çakuntala exhibit no fewer than eleven varieties of verse. It is not possible, as in the case of the simple Vedic metres, to imitate in English the almost infinite resources of the complicated and entirely quantitative classical Sanskrit measures. The spirit of the lyrical passages is, therefore, probably best reproduced by using blank verse as the familiar metre of our drama. The prose of the dialogue in the plays is often very commonplace, serving only as an introduction to the lofty sentiment of the poetry that follows. In accordance with their social position, the various characters in a Sanskrit play speak different dialects. Sanskrit is employed only by heroes, kings, Brahmans, and men of high rank; Prakrit by all women and by men of the lower orders. Distinctions are further made in the use of Prakrit itself. Thus women of high position employ Maharashtri in lyrical passages, but otherwise they, as well as children and the better class of servants, speak Çauraseni. Magadhi is used, for instance, by attendants in the royal palace, Avanti by rogues or gamblers, Abhiri by cowherds, Paiçachi by charcoal-burners, and Apabhramça by the lowest and most despised people as well as barbarians. The Sanskrit dramatists show considerable skill in weaving the incidents of the plot and in the portrayal of individual character, but do not show much fertility of invention, commonly borrowing the story of their plays from history or epic legend. Love is the subject of most Indian dramas. The hero, usually a king, already the husband of one or more wives, is smitten at first sight with the charms of some fair maiden. The heroine, equally susceptible, at once reciprocates his affection, but concealing her passion, keeps her lover in agonies of suspense. Harassed by doubts, obstacles, and delays, both are reduced to a melancholy and emaciated condition. The somewhat doleful effect produced by their plight is relieved by the animated doings of the heroine's confidantes, but especially by the proceedings of the court-jester (vidushaka), the constant companion of the hero. He excites ridicule by his bodily defects no less than his clumsy interference with the course of the hero's affairs. His attempts at wit are, however, not of a high order. It is somewhat strange that a character occupying the position of a universal, butt should always be a Brahman. While the Indian drama shows some affinities with Greek comedy, it affords more striking points of resemblance to the productions of the Elizabethan playwrights, and in particular of Shakespeare. The aim of the Indian dramatists is not to portray types of character, but individual persons; nor do they observe the rule of unity of time or place. They are given to introducing romantic and fabulous elements; they mix prose with verse; they blend the comic with the serious, and introduce puns and comic distortions of words. The character of the vidushaka, too, is a close parallel to the fool in Shakespeare. Common to both are also several contrivances intended to further the action of the drama, such as the writing of letters, the introduction of a play within a play, the restoration of the dead to life, and the use of intoxication on the stage as a humorous device. Such a series of coincidences, in a case where influence or borrowing is absolutely out of the question, is an instructive instance of how similar developments can arise independently. Every Sanskrit play begins with a prologue or introduction, which regularly opens with a prayer or benediction (nandi) invoking the national deity in favour of the audience. Then generally follows a dialogue between the stage-manager and one or two actors, which refers to the play and its author, seeks to win public favour by paying a complimentary tribute to the critical acumen of the spectators, mentions past events and present circumstances elucidating the plot, and invariably ends by adroitly introducing one of the characters of the actual play. A Sanskrit drama is divided into scenes and acts. The former are marked by the entrance of one character and the exit of another. The stage is never left vacant till the end of the act, nor does any change of locality take place till then. Before a new act an interlude (called vishkambha or praveçaka), consisting of a monologue or dialogue, is often introduced. In this scene allusion is made to events supposed to have occurred in the interval, and the audience are prepared for what is about to take place. The whole piece closes with a prayer for national prosperity, which is addressed to the favourite deity and is spoken by one of the principal characters. The number of acts in a play varies from one to ten; but, while fluctuating somewhat, is determined by the character of the drama. Thus the species called natika has four acts and the farcical prahasana only one. The duration of the events is supposed to be identical with the time occupied in performing them on the stage, or, at most, a day; and a night is assumed to elapse between each act and that which follows. Occasionally, however, the interval is much longer. Thus in Kalidasa's Çakuntala and Urvaçi several years pass between the first and the last act; while in Bhavabhuti's Uttara-ramacharita no less than twelve years elapse between the first and the second act. Nor is unity of place observed; for the scene may be transferred from one part of the earth to another, or even to the aërial regions. Change of locality sometimes occurs even within the same act; as when a journey is supposed to be performed through the air in a celestial car. It is somewhat curious that while there are many and minute stage directions about dress and decorations no less than about the actions of the players, nothing is said in this way as to change of scene. As regards the number of characters appearing in a play, no limit of any kind is imposed. There were no special theatres in the Indian Middle Ages, and plays seem to have been performed in the concert-room (samgita-çala) of royal palaces. A curtain divided in the middle was a necessary part of the stage arrangement; it did not, however, separate the audience from the stage, as in the Roman theatre, but formed the background of the stage. Behind the curtain was the tiring-room (nepathya), whence the actors came on the stage. When they were intended to enter hurriedly, they were directed to do so "with a toss of the curtain." The stage scenery and decorations were of a very simple order, much being left to the imagination of the spectator, as in the Shakespearean drama. Weapons, seats, thrones, and chariots appeared on the stage; but it is highly improbable that the latter were drawn by the living animals supposed to be attached to them. Owing to the very frequent intercourse between the inhabitants of heaven and earth, there may have been some kind of aërial contrivance to represent celestial chariots; but owing to the repeated occurrence of the stage direction "gesticulating" (natayitva) in this connection, it is to be supposed that the impression of motion and speed was produced on the audience simply by the gestures of the actors. The best productions of the Indian drama are nearly a dozen in number, and date from a period embracing something like four hundred years, from about the beginning of the fifth to the end of the eighth century A.D. These plays are the compositions of the great dramatists Kalidasa and Bhavabhuti, or have come down under the names of the royal patrons Çudraka and Çriharsha, to whom their real authors attributed them. The greatest of all is Kalidasa, already known to us as the author of several of the best Kavyas. Three of his plays have been preserved, Çakuntala, Vikramorvaçi, and Malavikagnimitra. The richness of creative fancy which he displays in these, and his skill in the expression of tender feeling, assign him a high place among the dramatists of the world. The harmony of the poetic sentiment is nowhere disturbed by anything violent or terrifying. Every passion is softened without being enfeebled. The ardour of love never goes beyond æsthetic bounds; it never maddens to wild jealousy or hate. The torments of sorrow are toned down to a profound and touching melancholy. It was here at last that the Indian genius found the law of moderation in poetry, which it hardly knew elsewhere, and thus produced works of enduring beauty. Hence it was that Çakuntala exercised so great a fascination on the calm intellect of Goethe, who at the same time was so strongly repelled by the extravagances of Hindu mythological art. In comparison with the Greek and the modern drama, Nature occupies a much more important place in Sanskrit plays. The characters are surrounded by Nature, with which they are in constant communion. The mango and other trees, creepers, lotuses, and pale-red trumpet-flowers, gazelles, flamingoes, bright-hued parrots, and Indian cuckoos, in the midst of which they move, are often addressed by them and form an essential part of their lives. Hence the influence of Nature on the minds of lovers is much dwelt on. Prominent everywhere in classical Sanskrit poetry, these elements of Nature luxuriate most of all in the drama. The finest of Kalidasa's works are, it cannot be denied, defective as stage-plays. The very delicacy of the sentiment, combined with a certain want of action, renders them incapable of producing a powerful effect on an audience. The best representatives of the romantic drama of India are Çakuntala and Vikramorvaçi. Dealing with the love adventures of two famous kings of ancient epic legend, they represent scenes far removed from reality, in which heaven and earth are not separated, and men, demigods, nymphs, and saints are intermingled. Malavikagnimitra, on the other hand, not concerned with the heroic or divine, is a palace-and-harem drama, a story of contemporary love and intrigue. The plot of Çakuntala is derived from the first book of the Mahabharata. The hero is Dushyanta, a celebrated king of ancient days, the heroine, Çakuntala, the daughter of a celestial nymph, Menaka, and of the sage Viçvamitra; while their son, Bharata, became the founder of a famous race. The piece consists of seven acts, and belongs to the class of drama by native writers on poetics styled nataka, or "the play." In this the plot must be taken from mythology or history, the characters must be heroic or divine; it should be written in elaborate style, and full of noble sentiments, with five acts at least, and not more than ten. After the prelude, in which an actress sings a charming lyric on the beauties of summer-time, King Dushyanta appears pursuing a gazelle in the sacred grove of the sage Kanva. Here he catches sight of Çakuntala, who, accompanied by her two maiden friends, is engaged in watering her favourite trees. Struck by her beauty, he exclaims-- Her lip is ruddy as an opening bud. Her graceful arms resemble tender shoots: Attractive as the bloom upon the tree, The glow of youth is spread on all her limbs. Seizing an opportunity of addressing her, he soon feels that it is impossible for him to return to his capital-- My limbs move forward, while my heart flies back, Like silken standard borne against the breeze. In the second act the comic element is introduced with the jester Mathavya, who is as much disgusted with his master's love-lorn condition as with his fondness for the chase. In the third act, the love-sick Çakuntala is discovered lying on a bed of flowers in an arbour. The king overhears her conversation with her two friends, shows himself, and offers to wed the heroine. An interlude explains how a choleric ascetic, named Durvasa, enraged at not being greeted by Çakuntala with due courtesy, owing to her pre-occupied state, had pronounced a curse which should cause her to be entirely forgotten by her lover, who could recognise her only by means of a ring. The king having meanwhile married Çakuntala and returned home, the sage Kanva has resolved to send her to her husband. The way in which Çakuntala takes leave of the sacred grove in which she has been brought up, of her flowers, her gazelles, and her friends, is charmingly described in the fourth act. This is the act which contains the most obvious beauties; for here the poet displays to the full the richness of his fancy, his abundant sympathy with Nature, and a profound knowledge of the human heart. A young Brahman pupil thus describes the dawning of the day on which Çakuntala is to leave the forest hermitage-- On yonder side the moon, the Lord of Plants, Sinks down behind the western mountain's crest; On this, the sun preceded by the dawn Appears: the setting and the rise at once Of these two orbs the symbols are of man's Own fluctuating fortunes in the world. Then he continues-- The moon has gone; the lilies on the lake, Whose beauty lingers in the memory, No more delight my gaze: they droop and fade; Deep is their sorrow for their absent lord. The aged hermit of the grove thus expresses his feelings at the approaching loss of Çakuntala-- My heart is touched with sadness at the thought "Çakuntala must go to-day"; my throat Is choked with flow of tears repressed; my sight Is dimmed with pensiveness; but if the grief Of an old forest hermit is so great, How keen must be the pang a father feels When freshly parted from a cherished child! Then calling on the trees to give her a kindly farewell, he exclaims-- The trees, the kinsmen of her forest home, Now to Çakuntala give leave to go: They with the Kokila's melodious cry Their answer make. Thereupon the following good wishes are uttered by voices in the air-- Thy journey be auspicious; may the breeze, Gentle and soothing, fan thy cheek; may lakes All bright with lily cups delight thine eye; The sunbeams' heat be cooled by shady trees; The dust beneath thy feet the pollen be Of lotuses. The fifth act, in which Çakuntala appears before her husband, is deeply moving. The king fails to recognise her, and, though treating her not unkindly, refuses to acknowledge her as his wife. As a last resource, Çakuntala bethinks herself of the ring given her by her husband, but on discovering that it is lost, abandons hope. She is then borne off to heaven by celestial agency. In the following interlude we see a fisherman dragged along by constables for having in his possession the royal signet-ring, which he professes to have found inside a fish. The king, however, causes him to be set free, rewarding him handsomely for his find. Recollection of his former love now returns to Dushyanta. While he is indulging in sorrow at his repudiation of Çakuntala, Matali, Indra's charioteer, appears on the scene to ask the king's aid in vanquishing the demons. In the last act Dushyanta is seen driving in Indra's car to Hemakuta, the mountain of the Gandharvas. Here he sees a young boy playing with a lion cub. Taking his hand, without knowing him to be his own son, he exclaims-- If now the touch of but a stranger's child Thus sends a thrill of joy through all my limbs, What transports must he waken in the soul Of that blest father from whose loins he sprang! Soon after he finds and recognises Çakuntala, with whom he is at length happily reunited. Kalidasa's play has come down to us in two main recensions. The so-called Devanagari one, shorter and more concise, is probably the older and better. The more diffuse Bengal recension became known first through the translation of Sir William Jones. Vikramorvaçi, or "Urvaçi won by Valour," is a play in five acts, belonging to the class called Trotaka, which is described as representing events partly terrestrial and partly celestial, and as consisting of five, seven, eight, or nine acts. Its plot is briefly as follows. King Pururavas, hearing from nymphs that their companion, Urvaçi, has been carried off by demons, goes to the rescue and brings her back on his car. He is enraptured by the beauty of the nymph, no less than she is captivated by her deliverer. Urvaçi being summoned before the throne of Indra, the lovers are soon obliged to part. In the second act Urvaçi appears for a short time to the king as he disconsolately wanders in the garden. A letter, in which she had written a confession of her love, is discovered by the queen, who refuses to be pacified. In the third act we learn that Urvaçi had been acting before Indra in a play representing the betrothal of Lakshmi, and had, when asked on whom her heart was set, named Pururavas instead of Purushottama (i.e. Vishnu). She is consequently cursed by her teacher, Bharata, but is forgiven by Indra, who allows her to be united with Pururavas till the latter sees his offspring. The fourth act is peculiar in being almost entirely lyrical. The lovers are wandering near Kailasa, the divine mountain, when Urvaçi, in a fit of jealousy, enters the grove of Kumara, god of war, which is forbidden to all females. In consequence of Bharata's curse, she is instantly transformed into a creeper. The king, beside himself with grief at her loss, seeks her everywhere. He apostrophises various insects, birds, beasts, and even a mountain peak, to tell him where she is. At last he thinks he sees her in the mountain stream:-- The rippling wave is like her frown; the row Of tossing birds her girdle; streaks of foam Her flutt'ring garment as she speeds along; The current, her devious and stumbling gait: 'Tis she turned in her wrath into a stream. Finally, under the influence of a magic stone, which has come into his possession, he clasps a creeper, which is transformed into Urvaçi in his arms. Between the fourth and fifth acts several years elapse. Then Pururavas, by accident, discovers his son Ayus, whom Urvaçi had secretly borne, and had caused to be brought up in a hermitage. Urvaçi must therefore return to heaven. Indra, however, in return for Pururavas' services against the demons, makes a new concession, and allows the nymph to remain with the king for good. There are two recensions of this play also, one of them belonging to Southern India. The doubts long entertained, on the ground of its inferiority and different character, as to whether Malavikagnimitra, or "Malavika and Agnimitra," is really the work of Kalidasa, who is mentioned in the prologue as the author, are hardly justified. The piece has been shown by Weber to agree pretty closely in thought and diction with the two other plays of the poet; and though certainly not equal to the latter in poetic merit, it possesses many beauties. The subject is not heroic or divine, the plot being derived from the ordinary palace life of Indian princes, and thus supplying a peculiarly good picture of the social conditions of the times. The hero is a historical king of the dynasty of the Çungas, who reigned at Vidiça (Bhilsa) in the second century B.C. The play describes the loves of this king Agnimitra and of Malavika, one of the attendants of the queen, who jealously keeps her out of the king's sight on account of her great beauty. The various endeavours of the king to see and converse with Malavika give rise to numerous little intrigues. In the course of these Agnimitra nowhere appears as a despot, but acts with much delicate consideration for the feelings of his spouses. It finally turns out that Malavika is by birth a princess, who had only come to be an attendant at Agnimitra's court through having fallen into the hands of robbers. There being now no objection to her union with the king, all ends happily. While Kalidasa stands highest in poetical refinement, in tenderness, and depth of feeling, the author of the Mricchakatika, or "Clay Cart," is pre-eminent among Indian playwrights for the distinctively dramatic qualities of vigour, life, and action, no less than sharpness of characterisation, being thus allied in genius to Shakespeare. This play is also marked by originality and good sense. Attributed to a king named Çudraka, who is panegyrised in the prologue, it is probably the work of a poet patronised by him, perhaps Dandin, as Professor Pischel thinks. In any case, it not improbably belongs to the sixth century. It is divided into ten acts, and belongs to the dramatic class called prakarana. The name has little to do with the play, being derived from an unimportant episode of the sixth act. The scene is laid in Ujjayini and its neighbourhood. The number of characters appearing on the stage is very considerable. The chief among them are Charudatta, a Brahman merchant who has lost all his property by excessive liberality, and Vasantasena, a rich courtesan who loves the poor but noble Charudatta, and ultimately becomes his wife. The third act contains a humorous account of a burglary, in which stealing is treated as a fine art. In the fourth act there is a detailed description of the splendours of Vasantasena's palace. Though containing much exaggeration, it furnishes an interesting picture of the kind of luxury that prevailed in those days. Altogether this play abounds in comic situations, besides containing many serious scenes, some of which even border on the tragic. To the first half of the seventh century belong the two dramas attributed to the famous King Çriharsha or Harshadeva, a patron of poets, whom we already know as Harshavardhana of Thaneçar and Kanauj. Ratnavali, or "The Pearl Necklace," reflecting the court and harem life of the age, has many points of similarity with Kalidasa's Malavikagnimitra, by which, indeed, its plot was probably suggested. It is the story of the loves of Udayana, king of Vatsa, and of Sagarika, an attendant of his queen Vasavadatta. The heroine ultimately turns out to be Ratnavali, princess of Ceylon, who had found her way to Udayana's court after suffering shipwreck. The plot is unconnected with mythology, but is based on an historical or epic tradition, which recurs in a somewhat different form in Somadeva's Kathasaritsagara. As concerned with the second marriage of the king, it forms a sequel to the popular love-story of Vasavadatta. It is impossible to say whether the poet modified the main outlines of the traditional story, but the character of the magician who conjures up a vision of the gods and a conflagration, is his invention, as well as the incidents, which are of an entirely domestic nature. The real author was doubtless some poet resident at Çriharsha's court, possibly Bana, who also wrote a play entitled Parvatiparinaya. Altogether, Ratnavali is an agreeable play, with well-drawn characters and many poetical beauties. Of the latter the following lines, in which the king describes the pale light in the east heralding the rise of the moon, may serve as a specimen:-- Our minds intent upon the festival, We saw not that the twilight passed away: Behold, the east proclaims the lord of night Still hidden by the mountain where he rises, Even as a maiden by her pale face shows That in her inmost heart a lover dwells. Another play of considerable merit attributed to Çriharsha is Nagananda. It is a sensational piece with a Buddhistic colouring, the hero being a Buddhist and Buddha being praised in the introductory benediction. For this reason its author was probably different from that of Ratnavali, and may have been Dhavaka, who, like Bana, is known to have lived at the court of Çriharsha. The dramatist Bhavabhuti was a Brahman of the Taittiriya school of the Yajurveda and belonged, as we learn from his prologues, to Vidarbha (now Berar) in Southern India. He knew the city of Ujjayini well, and probably spent at least a part of his life there. His patron was King Yaçovarman of Kanyakubja (Kanauj), who ruled during the first half of the eighth century. Three plays by this poet, all abounding in poetic beauties, have come down to us. They contrast in two or three respects with the works of the earlier dramatists. The absence of the character of the jester is characteristic of them, the comic and witty element entering into them only to a slight extent. While other Indian poets dwell on the delicate and mild beauties of Nature, Bhavabhuti loves to depict her grand and sublime aspects, doubtless owing to the influence on his mind of the southern mountains of his native land. He is, moreover, skilful not only in drawing characters inspired by tender and noble sentiment, but in giving effective expression to depth and force of passion. The best known and most popular of Bhavabhuti's plays is Malati-madhava, a prakarana in ten acts. The scene is laid in Ujjayini, and the subject is the love-story of Malati, daughter of a minister of the country, and Madhava, a young scholar studying in the city, and son of the minister of another state. Skilfully interwoven with this main story are the fortunes of Makaranda, a friend of Madhava, and Madayantika, a sister of the king's favourite. Malati and Madhava meet and fall in love; but the king has determined that the heroine shall marry his favourite, whom she detests. This plan is frustrated by Makaranda, who, personating Malati, goes through the wedding ceremony with the bridegroom. The lovers, aided in their projects by two amiable Buddhist nuns, are finally united. The piece is a sort of Indian Romeo and Juliet with a happy ending, the part played by the nun Kamandaki being analogous to that of Friar Laurence in Shakespeare's drama. The contrast produced by scenes of tender love, and the horrible doings of the priestess of the dread goddess Durga, is certainly effective, but perhaps too violent. The use made of swoons, from which the recovery is, however, very rapid, is rather too common in this play. The ninth act contains several fine passages describing the scenery of the Vindhya range. The following is a translation of one of them:-- This mountain with its towering rocks delights The eye: its peaks grow dark with gathering clouds; Its groves are thronged with peacocks eloquent In joy; the trees upon its slopes are bright With birds that flit about their nests; the caves Reverberate the growl of bears; the scent Of incense-trees is wafted, sharp and cool, From branches broken off by elephants. The other two dramas of Bhavabhuti represent the fortunes of the same national hero, Rama. The plot of the Mahavira-charita, or "The Fortunes of the Great Hero," varies but slightly from the story told in the Ramayana. The play, which is divided into seven acts and is crowded with characters, concludes with the coronation of Rama. The last act illustrates well how much is left to the imagination of the spectator. It represents the journey of Rama in an aërial car from Ceylon all the way to Ayodhya (Oudh) in Northern India, the scenes traversed being described by one of the company. The Uttara-rama-charita, or "The Later Fortunes of Rama," is a romantic piece containing many fine passages. Owing to lack of action, however, it is rather a dramatic poem than a play. The description of the tender love of Rama and Sita, purified by sorrow, exhibits more genuine pathos than appears perhaps in any other Indian drama. The play begins with the banishment of Sita and ends with her restoration, after twelve years of grievous solitude, to the throne of Ayodhya amid popular acclamations. Her two sons, born after her banishment and reared in the wilderness by the sage Valmiki, without any knowledge of their royal descent, furnish a striking parallel to the two princes Guiderius and Arviragus who are brought up by the hermit Belarius in Shakespeare's Cymbeline. The scene in which their meeting with their father Rama is described reaches a high degree of poetic merit. Among the works of other dramatists, Viçakhadatta's Mudra-rakshasa, or "Rakshasa and the Seal," deserves special mention because of its unique character. For, unlike all the other dramas hitherto described, it is a play of political intrigue, composed, moreover, with much dramatic talent, being full of life, action, and sustained interest. Nothing more definite can be said as to its date than that it was probably written not later than about 800 A.D. The action of the piece takes place in the time of Chandragupta, who, soon after Alexander's invasion of India, founded a new dynasty at Pataliputra by deposing the last king of the Nanda line. Rakshasa, the minister of the latter, refusing to recognise the usurper, endeavours to be avenged on him for the ruin of his late master. The plot turns on the efforts of the Brahman Chanakya, the minister of Chandragupta, to win over the noble Rakshasa to his master's cause. In this he is ultimately successful. Bhatta Narayana's Venisamhara, or "Binding of the braid of hair," is a play in six acts, deriving its plot from the Mahabharata. Its action turns on the incident of Draupadi being dragged by the hair of her head into the assembly by one of the brothers of Duryodhana. Its age is known from its author having been the grantee of a copperplate dated 840 A.D. Though not conspicuous for poetic merit, it has long been a great favourite in India owing to its express partiality for the cult of Krishna. To about 900 A.D. belongs the poet Rajaçekhara, the distinguishing feature of whose dramas are lightness and grace of diction. Four of his plays have survived, and are entitled Viddha-çalabhanjika, Karpura-manjari, Bala-ramayana, and Prachanda-pandava or Bala-bharata. The poet Kshemiçvara, who probably lived in the tenth century A.D. at Kanyakubja under King Mahipala, is the author of a play named Chandakauçika, or "The Angry Kauçika." In the eleventh century Damodara Miçra composed the Hanuman-nataka, "The Play of Hanumat," also called Maha-nataka, or "The Great Play." According to tradition, he lived at the court of Bhoja, king of Malava, who resided at Dhara (now Dhar) and Ujjayini (Ujjain) in the early part of the eleventh century. It is a piece of little merit, dealing with the story of Rama in connection with his ally Hanumat, the monkey chief. It consists of fourteen acts, lacking coherence, and producing the impression of fragments patched together. Krishna miçra's Prabodha-chandrodaya, or "Rise of the Moon of Knowledge," a play in six acts, dating from about the end of the eleventh century, deserves special attention as one of the most remarkable products of Indian literature. Though an allegorical piece of theologico-philosophical purport, in which practically only abstract notions and symbolical figures act as persons, it is remarkable for dramatic life and vigour. It aims at glorifying orthodox Brahmanism in the Vishnuite sense, just as the allegorical plays of the Spanish poet Calderon were intended to exalt the Catholic faith. The Indian poet has succeeded in the difficult task of creating an attractive play with abstractions like Revelation, Will, Reason, Religion, by transforming them into living beings of flesh and blood. The evil King Error appears on the scene as ruler of Benares, surrounded by his faithful adherents, the Follies and Vices, while Religion and the noble King Reason, accompanied by all the Virtues, have been banished. There is, however, a prophecy that Reason will some day be re-united with Revelation; the fruit of the union will be True Knowledge, which will destroy the reign of Error. The struggle for this union and its consummation, followed by the final triumph of the good party, forms the plot of the piece. A large number of Sanskrit plays have been written since the twelfth century [14] down to modern times, their plots being generally derived from the Mahabharata and the Ramayana. Besides these, there are farces in one or more acts, mostly of a coarse type, in which various vices, such as hypocrisy, are satirised. These later productions reach a much lower level of art than the works of the early Indian dramatists. CHAPTER XIV FAIRY TALES AND FABLES (Circa 400-1100 A.D.) The didactic and sententious note which prevails in classical Sanskrit literature cannot fail to strike the student. It is, however, specially pronounced in the fairy tales and fables, where the abundant introduction of ethical reflections and proverbial philosophy is characteristic. The apologue with its moral is peculiarly subject to this method of treatment. A distinguishing feature of the Sanskrit collections of fairy tales and fables, which are to a considerable extent found mixed together, is the insertion of a number of different stories within the framework of a single narrative. The characters of the main story in turn relate various tales to edify one another or to prove the correctness of their own special views. As within the limits of a minor story a second one can be similarly introduced and the process further repeated, the construction of the whole work comes to resemble that of a set of Chinese boxes. This style of narration was borrowed from India by the neighbouring Oriental peoples of Persia and Arabia, who employed it in composing independent works. The most notable instance is, of course, the Arabian Nights. The Panchatantra, so called because it is divided into five books, is, from the literary point of view, the most important and interesting work in this branch of Indian literature. It consists for the most part of fables, which are written in prose with an admixture of illustrative aphoristic verse. At what time this collection first assumed definite shape, it is impossible to say. We know, however, that it existed in the first half of the sixth century A.D., since it was translated by order of King Khosru Anushirvan (531-79) into Pehlevi, the literary language of Persia at that time. We may, indeed, assume that it was known in the fifth century; for a considerable time must have elapsed before it became so famous that a foreign king desired its translation. If not actually a Buddhistic work, the Panchatantra must be derived from Buddhistic sources. This follows from the fact that a number of its fables can be traced to Buddhistic writings, and from the internal evidence of the book itself. Apologues and fables were current among the Buddhists from the earliest times. They were ascribed to Buddha, and their sanctity increased by identifying the best character in any story with Buddha himself in a previous birth. Hence such tales were called Jatakas, or "Birth Stories." There is evidence that a collection of stories under that name existed as early as the Council of Vesali, about 380 B.C.; and in the fifth century A.D. they assumed the shape they now have in the Pali Sutta-pitaka. Moreover, two Chinese encylopædias, the older of which was completed in 668 A.D., contain a large number of Indian fables translated into Chinese, and cite no fewer than 202 Buddhist works as their sources. In its present form, however, the Panchatantra is the production of Brahmans, who, though they transformed or omitted such parts as betrayed animus against Brahmanism, have nevertheless left uneffaced many traces of the Buddhistic origin of the collection. Though now divided into only five books, it is shown by the evidence of the oldest translation to have at one time embraced twelve. What its original name was we cannot say, but it may not improbably have been called after the two jackals, Karataka and Damanaka, who play a prominent part in the first book; for the title of the old Syriac version is Kalilag and Damnag, and that of the Arabic translation Kalilah and Dimnah. Originally the Panchatantra was probably intended to be a manual for the instruction of the sons of kings in the principles of conduct (niti), a kind of "Mirror of Princes." For it is introduced with the story of King Amaraçakti of Mahilaropya, a city of the south, who wishes to discover a scholar capable of training his three stupid and idle sons. He at last finds a Brahman who undertakes to teach the princes in six months enough to make them surpass all others in knowledge of moral science. This object he duly accomplishes by composing the Panchatantra and reciting it to the young princes. The framework of the first book, entitled "Separation of Friends," is the story of a bull and a lion, who are introduced to one another in the forest by two jackals and become fast friends. One of the jackals, feeling himself neglected, starts an intrigue by telling both the lion and the bull that each is plotting against the other. As a result the bull is killed in battle with the lion, and the jackal, as prime minister of the latter, enjoys the fruits of his machinations. The main story of the second book, which is called "Acquisition of Friends," deals with the adventures of a tortoise, a deer, a crow, and a mouse. It is meant to illustrate the advantages of judicious friendships. The third book, or "The War of the Crows and the Owls," points out the danger of friendship concluded between those who are old enemies. The fourth book, entitled "Loss of what has been Acquired," illustrates, by the main story of the monkey and the crocodile, how fools can be made by flattery to part with their possessions. The fifth book, entitled "Inconsiderate Action," contains a number of stories connected with the experiences of a barber, who came to grief through failing to take all the circumstances of the case into consideration. The book is pervaded by a quaint humour which transfers, to the animal kingdom all sorts of human action. Thus animals devote themselves to the study of the Vedas and to the practice of religious rites; they engage in disquisitions about gods, saints, and heroes; or exchange views regarding subtle rules of ethics; but suddenly their fierce animal nature breaks out. A pious cat, for instance, called upon to act as umpire in a dispute between a sparrow and a monkey, inspires such confidence in the litigants, by a long discourse on the vanity of life and the supreme importance of virtue, that they come close up in order to hear better the words of wisdom. In an instant he seizes one of the disputants with his claws, the other with his teeth, and devours them both. Very humorous is the story of the conceited musical donkey. Trespassing one moonlight night in a cucumber field, he feels impelled to sing, and answers the objections of his friend the jackal by a lecture on the charms of music. He then begins to bray, arouses the watchmen, and receives a sound drubbing. With abundant irony and satire the most various human vices are exposed, among others the hypocrisy and avarice of Brahmans, the intriguing character of courtiers, and the faithlessness of women. A vigorous popular spirit of reaction against Brahman pretensions here finds expression, and altogether a sound and healthy view of life prevails, forming a refreshing contrast to the exaggeration found in many branches of Indian literature. The following translation of a short fable from the first book may serve as a specimen of the style of the Panchatantra. "There was in a certain forest region a herd of monkeys. Once in the winter season, when their bodies were shivering from contact with the cold wind, and were buffeted with torrents of rain, they could find no rest. So some of the monkeys, collecting gunja berries, which are like sparks, stood round blowing in order to obtain a fire. Now a bird named Needlebeak, seeing this vain endeavour of theirs, exclaimed, 'Ho, you are all great fools; these are not sparks of fire, they are gunja berries. Why, therefore, this vain endeavour? You will never protect yourselves against the cold in this way. You had better look for a spot in the forest which is sheltered from the wind, or a cave, or a cleft in the mountains. Even now mighty rain clouds are appearing.' Thereupon an old monkey among them said, 'Ho, what business of yours is this? Be off. There is a saying-- A man of judgment who desires His own success should not accost One constantly disturbed in work Or gamblers who have lost at play. And another-- Who joins in conversation with A hunter who has chased in vain, Or with a fool who has become Involved in ruin, comes to grief. "The bird, however, without paying any attention to him, continually said to the monkeys, 'Ho, why this vain endeavour?' So, as he did not for a moment cease to chatter, one of the monkeys, enraged at their futile efforts, seized him by the wings and dashed him against a stone. And so he (de)ceased. "Hence I say-- Unbending wood cannot be bent, A razor cannot cut a stone: Mark this, O Needlebeak! Try not To lecture him who will not learn." A similar collection of fables is the celebrated Hitopadeça, or "Salutary Advice," which, owing to its intrinsic merit, is one of the best known and most popular works of Sanskrit literature in India, and which, because of its suitability for teaching purposes, is read by nearly all beginners of Sanskrit in England. It is based chiefly on the Panchatantra, in which twenty-five of its forty-three fables are found. The first three books of the older collection have been, in the main, drawn upon; for there is but one story, that of the ass in the tiger's skin, taken from Book IV., and only three from Book V. The introduction is similar to that of the Panchatantra, but the father of the ignorant and vicious princes is here called Sudarçana of Pataliputra (Patna). The Hitopadeça is divided into four books. The framework and titles of the first two agree with the first two of the Panchatantra, but in inverted order. The third and fourth books are called "War" and "Peace" respectively, the main story describing the conflict and reconciliation of the Geese and the Peacocks. The sententious element is here much more prominent than in the Panchatantra, and the number of verses introduced is often so great as to seriously impede the progress of the prose narrative. These verses, however, abound in wise maxims and fine thoughts. The stanzas dealing with the transitoriness of human life near the end of Book IV. have a peculiarly pensive beauty of their own. The following two may serve as specimens:-- As on the mighty ocean's waves Two floating logs together come, And, having met, for ever part: So briefly joined are living things. As streams of rivers onward flow, And never more return again: So day and night still bear away The life of every mortal man. It is uncertain who was the author of the Hitopadeça; nor can anything more definite be said about the date of this compilation than that it is more than 500 years old, as the earliest known MS. of it was written in 1373 A.D. As both the Panchatantra and the Hitopadeça were originally intended as manuals for the instruction of kings in domestic and foreign policy, they belong to the class of literature which the Hindus call niti-çastra, or "Science of Political Ethics." A purely metrical treatise, dealing directly with the principles of policy, is the Niti-sara, or "Essence of Conduct." of Kamandaka, which is one of the sources of the maxims introduced by the author of the Hitopadeça. A collection of pretty and ingenious fairy tales, with a highly Oriental colouring, is the Vetala-panchavimçati, or "Twenty-five Tales of the Vetala" (a demon supposed to occupy corpses). The framework of this collection is briefly as follows. King Vikrama of Ujjayini is directed by an ascetic (yogin) to take down from a tree and convey a corpse, without uttering a single word, to a spot in a graveyard where certain rites for the attainment of high magical powers are to take place. As the king is carrying the corpse along on his shoulders, a Vetala, which has entered it, begins to speak and tells him a fairy tale. On the king inadvertently replying to a question, the corpse at once disappears and is found hanging on the tree again. The king goes back to fetch it, and the same process is repeated till the Vetala has told twenty-five tales. Each of these is so constructed as to end in a subtle problem, on which the king is asked to express his opinion. The stories contained in this work are known to many English readers under the title of Vikram and the Vampire. Another collection of fairy tales is the Simhasana-dvatrimçika, or "Thirty-two Stories of the Lion-seat" (i.e. throne), which also goes by the name of Vikrama-charita, or "Adventures of Vikrama." Here it is the throne of King Vikrama that tells the tales. Both this and the preceding collection are of Buddhistic origin. A third work of the same kind is the Çuka-saptati, or "Seventy Stories of a Parrot." Here a wife, whose husband is travelling abroad, and who is inclined to run after other men, turns to her husband's clever parrot for advice. The bird, while seeming to approve of her plans, warns her of the risks she runs, and makes her promise not to go and meet any paramour unless she can extricate herself from difficulties as So-and-so did. Requested to tell the story, he does so, but only as far as the dilemma, when he asks the woman what course the person concerned should take. As she cannot guess, the parrot promises to tell her if she stays at home that night. Seventy days pass in the same way, till the husband returns. These three collections of fairy tales are all written in prose and are comparatively short. There is, however, another of special importance, which is composed in verse and is of very considerable length. For it contains no less than 22,000 çlokas, equal to nearly one-fourth of the Mahabharata, or to almost twice as much as the Iliad and Odyssey put together. This is the Katha-sarit-sagara, or "Ocean of Rivers of Stories." It is divided into 124 chapters, called tarangas, or "waves," to be in keeping with the title of the work. Independent of these is another division into eighteen books called lambakas. The author was Somadeva, a Kashmirian poet, who composed his work about 1070 A.D. Though he himself was a Brahman, his work contains not only many traces of the Buddhistic character of his sources, but even direct allusions to Buddhist Birth Stories. He states the real basis of his work to have been the Brihat-katha, or "Great Narration," which Bana mentions, by the poet Gunadhya, who is quoted by Dandin. This original must, in the opinion of Bühler, go back to the first or second century A.D. A somewhat earlier recast of this work was made about A.D. 1037 by a contemporary of Somadeva's named Kshemendra Vyasadasa. It is entitled Brihat-katha-manjari, and is only about one-third as long as the Katha-sarit-sagara. Kshemendra and Somadeva worked independently of each other, and both state that the original from which they translated was written in the paiçachi bhasha or "Goblin language," a term applied to a number of Low Prakrit dialects spoken by the most ignorant and degraded classes. The Katha-sarit-sagara also contains (Tarangas 60-64) a recast of the first three books of the Panchatantra, which books, it is interesting to find, had the same form in Somadeva's time as when they were translated into Pehlevi (about 570 A.D.). Somadeva's work contains many most entertaining stories; for instance, that of the king who, through ignorance of the phonetic rules of Sanskrit grammar, misunderstood a remark made by his wife, and overcome with shame, determined to become a good Sanskrit scholar or die in the attempt. One of the most famous tales it contains is that of King Çibi, who offered up his life to save a pigeon from a hawk. It is a Jataka, and is often represented on Buddhist sculptures; for example, on the tope of Amaravati, which dates from about the beginning of our era. It also occurs in a Chinese as well as a Muhammadan form. ETHICAL POETRY. The proneness of the Indian mind to reflection not only produced important results in religion, philosophy, and science; it also found a more abundant expression in poetry than the literature of any other nation can boast. Scattered throughout the most various departments of Sanskrit literature are innumerable apophthegms in which wise and noble, striking and original thoughts often appear in a highly finished and poetical garb. These are plentiful in the law-books; in the epic and the drama they are frequently on the lips of heroes, sages, and gods; and in fables are constantly uttered by tigers, jackals, cats, and other animals. Above all, the Mahabharata, which, to the pious Hindu, constitutes a moral encyclopædia, is an inexhaustible mine of proverbial philosophy. It is, however, natural that ethical maxims should be introduced in greatest abundance into works which, like the Panchatantra and Hitopadeça, were intended to be handbooks of practical moral philosophy. Owing to the universality of this mode of expression in Sanskrit literature, there are but few works consisting exclusively of poetical aphorisms. The most important are the two collections by the highly-gifted Bhartrihari, entitled respectively Nitiçataka, or "Century of Conduct," and Vairagya-çataka, or "Century of Renunciation." Others are the Çanti-çataka, or "Century of Tranquillity," by a Kashmirian poet named Çilhana; the Moha-mudgara, or "Hammer of Folly," a short poem commending the relinquishment of worldly desires, and wrongly attributed to Çankaracharya; and the Chanakya-çataka, the "Centuries of Chanakya," the reputed author of which was famous in India as a master of diplomacy, and is the leading character in the political drama Mudra-rakshasa. The Niti-manjari, or "Cluster of Blossoms of Conduct," which has not yet been published, is a collection of a peculiar kind. The moral maxims which it contains are illustrated by stories, and these are taken exclusively from the Rigveda. It consists of about 200 çlokas, and was composed by an author named Dya Dviveda who accompanied his work with a commentary. In the latter he quotes largely from the Brihåddevata, Sayana on the Rigveda, and other authors. There are also some modern anthologies of Sanskrit gnomic poetry. One of these is Çridharadasa's Sadukti-karnamrita, or "Ear-nectar of Good Maxims," containing quotations from 446 poets, mostly of Bengal, and compiled in 1205 A.D. The Çarngadhara-paddhati, or "Anthology of Çarngadhara," dating from the fourteenth century, comprises about 6000 stanzas culled from 264 authors. The Subhashitavali, or "Series of Fine Sayings," compiled by Vallabhadeva, contains some 3500 stanzas taken from about 350 poets. All that is best in Sanskrit sententious poetry has been collected by Dr. Böhtlingk, the Nestor of Indianists, in his Indische Sprüche. This work contains the text, critically edited and accompanied by a prose German translation, of nearly 8000 stanzas, which are culled from the whole field of classical Sanskrit literature and arranged according to the alphabetical order of the initial word. Though composed in Pali, the Dhammapada may perhaps be mentioned here. It is a collection of aphorisms representing the most beautiful, profound, and poetical thoughts in Buddhist literature. The keynote prevailing in all this poetry is the doctrine of the vanity of human life, which was developed before the rise of Buddhism in the sixth century B.C., and has dominated Indian thought ever since. There is no true happiness, we are here taught, but in the abandonment of desire and retirement from the world. The poet sees the luxuriant beauties of nature spread before his eyes, and feels their charm; but he turns from them sad and disappointed to seek mental calm and lasting happiness in the solitude of the forest. Hence the picture of a pious anchorite living in contemplation is often painted with enthusiasm. Free from all desires, he is as happy as a king, when the earth is his couch, his arms his pillow, the sky his tent, the moon his lamp, when renunciation is his spouse, and the cardinal points are the maidens that fan him with winds. No Indian poet inculcates renunciation more forcibly than Bhartrihari; the humorous and ironical touches which he occasionally introduces are doubtless due to the character of this remarkable man, who wavered between the spiritual and the worldly life throughout his career. Renunciation is not, however, the only goal to which the transitoriness of worldly goods leads the gnomic poets of India. The necessity of pursuing virtue is the practical lesson which they also draw from the vanity of mundane existence, and which finds expression in many noble admonitions:-- Transient indeed is human life, Like the moon's disc in waters seen: Knowing how true this is, a man Should ever practise what is good (Hit. iv. 133). It is often said that when a man dies and leaves all his loved ones behind, his good works alone can accompany him on his journey to his next life. Nor should sin ever be committed in this life when there is none to see, for it is always witnessed by the "old hermit dwelling in the heart," as the conscience is picturesquely called. That spirit of universal tolerance and love of mankind which enabled Buddhism to overstep the bounds not only of caste but of nationality, and thus to become the earliest world-religion, breathes throughout this poetry. Even the Mahabharata, though a work of the Brahmans, contains such liberal sentiments as this:-- Men of high rank win no esteem If lacking in good qualities; A Çudra even deserves respect Who knows and does his duty well (xiii. 2610). The following stanza shows how cosmopolitan Bhartrihari was in his views:-- "This man's our own, a stranger that": Thus narrow-minded people think. However, noble-minded men Regard the whole world as their kin. But these poets go even beyond the limits of humanity and inculcate sympathy with the joys and sorrows of all creatures:-- To harm no living thing in deed, In thought or word, to exercise Benevolence and charity: Virtue's eternal law is this (Mahabh. xii. 5997). Gentleness and forbearance towards good and bad alike are thus recommended in the Hitopadeça:-- Even to beings destitute Of virtue good men pity show: The moon does not her light withdraw Even from the pariah's abode (i. 63). The Panchatantra, again, dissuades thus from thoughts of revenge:-- Devise no ill at any time To injure those that do thee harm: They of themselves will some day fall, Like trees that grow on river banks. The good qualities of the virtuous are often described and contrasted with the characteristics of evil-doers. This, for instance, is how Bhartrihari illustrates the humility of the benevolent:-- The trees bend downward with the burden of their fruit, The clouds bow low, heavy with waters they will shed: The noble hold not high their heads through pride of wealth; Thus those behave who are on others' good intent (i. 71). Many fine thoughts about true friendship and the value of intercourse with good men are found here, often exemplified in a truly poetical spirit. This, for instance, is from the Panchatantra:-- Who is not made a better man By contact with a noble friend? A water-drop on lotus-leaves Assumes the splendour of a pearl (iii. 61). It is perhaps natural that poetry with a strong pessimistic colouring should contain many bitter sayings about women and their character. Here is an example of how they are often described:-- The love of women but a moment lasts. Like colours of the dawn or evening red; Their aims are crooked like a river's course; Inconstant are they as the lightning flash; Like serpents, they deserve no confidence (Kathas. xxxvii. 143). At the same time there are several passages in which female character is represented in a more favourable light, and others sing the praise of faithful wives. Here, too, we meet with many pithy sayings about the misery of poverty and the degradation of servitude; while the power of money to invest the worthless man with the appearance of every talent and virtue is described with bitter irony and scathing sarcasm. As might be expected, true knowledge receives frequent and high appreciation in Sanskrit ethical poetry. It is compared with a rich treasure which cannot be divided among relations, which no thief can steal, and which is never diminished by being imparted to others. Contempt, on the other hand, is poured on pedantry and spurious learning. Those who have read many books, without understanding their sense, are likened to an ass laden with sandal wood, who feels only the weight, but knows nothing of the value of his burden. As the belief in transmigration has cast its shadow over Indian thought from pre-Buddhistic times, it is only natural that the conception of fate should be prominent in Sanskrit moral poetry. Here, indeed, we often read that no one can escape from the operation of destiny, but at the same time we find constant admonitions not to let this fact paralyse human effort. For, as is shown in the Hitopadeça and elsewhere, fate is nothing else than the result of action done in a former birth. Hence every man can by right conduct shape his future fate, just as a potter can mould a lump of clay into whatever form he desires. Human action is thus a necessary complement to fate; the latter cannot proceed without the former any more than a cart, as the Hitopadeça expresses it, can move with only one wheel. This doctrine is inculcated with many apt illustrations. Thus in one stanza of the Hitopadeça it is pointed out that "antelopes do not enter into the mouth of the sleeping lion"; in another the question is asked, "Who without work could obtain oil from sesamum seeds?" Or, as the Mahabharata once puts it, fate without human action cannot be fulfilled, just as seed sown outside the field bears no fruit. For those who are suffering from the assaults of adverse fate there are many exhortations to firmness and constancy. The following is a stanza of this kind from the Panchatantra:-- In fortune and calamity The great ever remain the same: The sun is at its rising red, Red also when about to set. Collected in the ethico-didactic works which have been described in this chapter, and scattered throughout the rest of the literature, the notions held by the Brahmans in the sphere of moral philosophy have never received a methodical treatment, as in the Pali literature of Buddhism. In the orthodox systems of Hindu philosophy, to which we now turn, they find no place. CHAPTER XV PHILOSOPHY The beginnings of Indian philosophy, which are to be found in the latest hymns of the Rigveda and in the Atharvaveda, are concerned with speculations on the origin of the world and on the eternal principle by which it is created and maintained. The Yajurveda further contains fantastic cosmogonic legends describing how the Creator produces all things by means of the omnipotent sacrifice. With these Vedic ideas are intimately connected, and indeed largely identical, those of the earlier Upanishads. This philosophy is essentially pantheistic and idealistic. By the side of it grew up an atheistic and empirical school of thought, which in the sixth century B.C. furnished the foundation of the two great unorthodox religious systems of Buddhism and Jainism. The Upanishad philosophy is in a chaotic condition, but the speculations of this and of other schools of thought were gradually reduced to order and systematised in manuals from about the first century of our era onwards. Altogether nine systems may be distinguished, some of which must in their origin go back to the beginning of the sixth century B.C. at least. Of the six systems which are accounted orthodox no less than four were originally atheistic, and one remained so throughout. The strangeness of this fact disappears when we reflect that the only conditions of orthodoxy in India were the recognition of the class privileges of the Brahman caste and a nominal acknowledgment of the infallibility of the Veda, neither full agreement with Vedic doctrines nor the confession of a belief in the existence of God being required. With these two limitations the utmost freedom of thought prevailed in Brahmanism. Hence the boldest philosophical speculation and conformity with the popular religion went hand and hand, to a degree which has never been equalled in any other country. Of the orthodox systems, by far the most important are the pantheistic Vedanta, which, as continuing the doctrines of the Upanishads, has been the dominant philosophy of Brahmanism since the end of the Vedic period, and the atheistic Sankhya, which, for the first time in the history of the world, asserted the complete independence of the human mind and attempted to solve its problems solely by the aid of reason. On the Sankhya were based the two heterodox religious systems of Buddhism and Jainism, which denied the authority of the Veda, and opposed the Brahman caste system and ceremonial. Still more heterodox was the Materialist philosophy of Charvaka, which went further and denied even the fundamental doctrines common to all other schools of Indian thought, orthodox and unorthodox, the belief in transmigration dependent on retribution, and the belief in salvation or release from transmigration. The theory that every individual passes after death into a series of new existences in heavens or hells, or in the bodies of men and animals, or in plants on earth, where it is rewarded or punished for all deeds committed in a former life, was already so firmly established in the sixth century B.C., that Buddha received it without question into his religious system; and it has dominated the belief of the Indian people from those early times down to the present day. There is, perhaps, no more remarkable fact in the history of the human mind than that this strange doctrine, never philosophically demonstrated, should have been regarded as self-evident for 2500 years by every philosophical school or religious sect in India, excepting only the Materialists. By the acceptance of this doctrine the Vedic optimism, which looked forward to a life of eternal happiness in heaven, was transformed into the gloomy prospect of an interminable series of miserable existences leading from one death to another. The transition to the developed view of the Upanishads is to be found in the Çatapatha Brahmana (above, p. 223). How is the origin of the momentous doctrine which produced this change to be accounted for? The Rigveda contains no traces of it beyond a couple of passages in the last book which speak of the soul of a dead man as going to the waters or plants. It seems hardly likely that so far-reaching a theory should have been developed from the stray fancies of one or two later Vedic poets. It seems more probable that the Aryan settlers received the first impulse in this direction from the aboriginal inhabitants of India. As is well known, there is among half-savage tribes a wide-spread belief that the soul after death passes into the trunks of trees and the bodies of animals. Thus the Sonthals of India are said even at the present day to hold that the souls of the good enter into fruit-bearing trees. But among such races the notion of transmigration does not go beyond a belief in the continuance of human existence in animals and trees. If, therefore, the Aryan Indians borrowed the idea from the aborigines, they certainly deserve the credit of having elaborated out of it the theory of an unbroken chain of existences, intimately connected with the moral principle of requïtal. The immovable hold it acquired on Indian thought is doubtless due to the satisfactory explanation it offered of the misfortune or prosperity which is often clearly caused by no action done in this life. Indeed, the Indian doctrine of transmigration, fantastic though it may appear to us, has the twofold merit of satisfying the requirement of justice in the moral government of the world, and at the same time inculcating a valuable ethical principle which makes every man the architect of his own fate. For, as every bad deed done in this existence must be expiated, so every good deed will be rewarded in the next existence. From the enjoyment of the fruits of actions already done there is no escape; for, in the words of the Mahabharata, "as among a thousand cows a calf finds its mother, so the deed previously done follows after the doer." The cycle of existences (samsara) is regarded as having no beginning, for as every event of the present life is the result of an action done in a past one, the same must hold true of each preceding existence ad infinitum. The subsequent effectiveness of guilt and of merit, commonly called adrishta or "the unseen," but often also simply karma, "deed or work," is believed to regulate not only the life of the individual, but the origin and development of everything in the world; for whatever takes place cannot but affect some creature, and must therefore, by the law of retribution, be due to some previous act of that creature. In other words, the operations of nature are also the results of the good or bad deeds of living beings. There is thus no room for independent divine rule by the side of the power of karma, which governs everything with iron necessity. Hence, even the systems which acknowledge a God can only assign to him the function of guiding the world and the life of creatures in strict accordance with the law of retribution, which even he cannot break. The periodic destruction and renewal of the universe, an application of the theory on a grand scale, forms part of the doctrine of samsara or cycle of existence. Common to all the systems of philosophy, and as old as that of transmigration, is the doctrine of salvation, which puts an end to transmigration. All action is brought about by desire, which, in its turn is based on avidya, a sort of "ignorance," that mistakes the true nature of things, and is the ultimate source of transmigration. Originally having only the negative sense of non-knowledge (a-vidya), the word here came to have the positive sense of "false knowledge." Such ignorance is dispelled by saving knowledge, which, according to every philosophical school of India, consists in some special form of cognition. This universal knowledge, which is not the result of merit, but breaks into life independently, destroys, the subsequent effect of works which would otherwise bear fruit in future existences, and thus puts an end to transmigration. It cannot, however, influence those works the fruit of which has already begun to ripen. Hence, the present life continues from the moment of enlightenment till definite salvation at death, just as the potter's wheel goes on revolving for a time after the completion of the pot. But no merit or demerit results from acts done after enlightenment (or "conversion" as we should say), because all desire for the objects of the world is at an end. The popular beliefs about heavens and hells, gods, demi-gods, and demons, were retained in Buddhism and Jainism, as well as in the orthodox systems. But these higher and more fortunate beings were considered to be also subject to the law of transmigration, and, unless they obtained saving knowledge, to be on a lower level than the man who had obtained such knowledge. The monistic theory of the early Upanishads, which identified the individual soul with Brahma, aroused the opposition of the rationalistic founder of the Sankhya system, Kapila, who, according to Buddhist legends, was pre-Buddhistic, and whose doctrines Buddha followed and elaborated. His teaching is entirely dualistic, admitting only two things, both without beginning and end, but essentially different, matter on the one hand, and an infinite plurality of individual souls on the other. An account of the nature and the mutual relation of these two, forms the main content of the system. Kapila was, indeed, the first who drew a sharp line of demarcation between the two domains of matter and soul. The saving knowledge which delivers from the misery of transmigration consists, according to the Sankhya system, in recognising the absolute distinction between soul and matter. The existence of a supreme god who creates and rules the universe is denied, and would be irreconcilable with the system. For according to its doctrine the unconscious matter of Nature originally contains within itself the power of evolution (in the interest of souls, which are entirely passive during the process), while karma alone determines the course of that evolution. The adherents of the system defend their atheism by maintaining that the origin of misery presents an insoluble problem to the theist, for a god who has created and rules the world could not possibly escape from the reproach of cruelty and partiality. Much stress is laid by this school in general on the absence of any cogent proof for the existence of God. The world is maintained to be real, and that from all eternity; for the existent can only be produced from the existent. The reality of an object is regarded as resulting simply from perception, always supposing the senses of the perceiver to be sound. The world is described as developing according to certain laws out of primitive matter (prakriti or pradhana). The genuine philosophic spirit of its method of rising from the known elements of experience to the unknown by logical demonstration till the ultimate cause is reached, must give this system a special interest in the eyes of evolutionists whose views are founded on the results of modern physical science. The evolution and diversity of the world are explained by primæval matter, although uniform and indivisible, consisting of three different substances called gunas or constituents (originally "strands" of a rope). By the combination of these in varying proportions the diverse material products were supposed to have arisen. The constituent, called sattva, distinguished by the qualities of luminousness and lightness in the object, and by virtue, benevolence, and other pleasing attributes in the subject, is associated with the feeling of joy; rajas, distinguished by activity and various hurtful qualities, is associated with pain; and tamas, distinguished by heaviness, rigidity, and darkness on the one hand, and fear, unconsciousness, and so forth, on the other, is associated with apathy. At the end of a cosmic period all things are supposed to be dissolved into primitive matter, the alternations of evolution, existence, and dissolution having neither beginning nor end. The psychology of the Sankhya system is specially important. Peculiarly interesting is its doctrine that all mental operations, such as perception, thinking, willing, are not performed by the soul, but are merely mechanical processes of the internal organs, that is to say, of matter. The soul itself possesses no attributes or qualities, and can only be described negatively. There being no qualitative difference between souls, the principle of personality and identity is supplied by the subtile or internal body, which, chiefly formed of the inner organs and the senses, surrounds and is made conscious by the soul. This internal body, being the vehicle of merit and demerit, which are the basis of transmigration, accompanies the soul on its wanderings from one gross body to another, whether the latter be that of a god, a man, an animal, or a tree. Conscious life is bondage to pain, in which pleasure is included by this peculiarly pessimistic system. When salvation, which is the absolute cessation of pain, is obtained, the internal body is dissolved into its material elements, and the soul, becoming finally isolated, continues to exist individually, but in absolute unconsciousness. The name of the system, which only begins to be mentioned in the later Upanishads, and more frequently in the Mahabharata, is derived from samkhya, "number." There is, however, some doubt as to whether it originally meant "enumeration," from the twenty-five tattvas or principles which it sets forth, or "inferential or discriminative" doctrine, from the method which it pursues. Kapila, the founder of the system, whose teaching is presupposed by Buddhism, and whom Buddhistic legend connects with Kapila-vastu, the birthplace of Buddha, must have lived before the middle of the sixth century. No work of his, if he ever committed his system to writing, has been preserved. Indeed, the very existence of such a person as Kapila has been doubted, in spite of the unanimity with which Indian tradition designates a man of this name as the founder of the system. The second leading authority of the Sankhya philosophy was Panchaçikha, who may have lived about the beginning of our era. The oldest systematic manual which has been preserved is the Sankhya-karika of Içvara-krishna. As it was translated into Chinese between 557 and 583 A.D., it cannot belong to a later century than the fifth, and may be still older. This work deals very concisely and methodically with the doctrines of the Sankhya in sixty-nine stanzas (composed in the complicated Arya metre), to which three others were subsequently added. It appears to have superseded the Sutras of Panchaçikha, who is mentioned in it as the chief disseminator of the system. There are two excellent commentaries on the Sankhya-karika, the one composed about 700 A.D. by Gaudapada, and the other soon after 1100 A.D. by Vachaspati Miçra. The Sankhya Sutras, long regarded as the oldest manual of the system, and attributed to Kapila, were probably not composed till about 1400 A.D. The author of this work, which also goes by the name of Sankhya-pravachana, endeavours in vain to show that there is no difference between the doctrines of the Sankhya and of the Upanishads. He is also much influenced by the ideas of the Yoga as well as the Vedanta system. In the oldest commentary on this work, that of Aniruddha, composed about 1500 A.D., the objectiveness of the treatment is particularly useful. Much more detailed, but far less objective, is the commentary of Vijnana-bhikshu, entitled Sankhya-pravachana-bhashya, and written in the second half of the sixteenth century. The author's point of view being theistic, he effaces the characteristic features of the different systems in the endeavour to show that all the six orthodox systems contain the absolute truth in their main doctrines. From the beginning of our era down to recent times the Sankhya doctrines have exercised considerable influence on the religious and philosophical life of India, though to a much less extent than the Vedanta. Some of its individual teachings, such as that of the three gunas, have become the common property of the whole of Sanskrit literature. At the time of the great Vedantist, Çankara (800 A.D.), the Sankhya system was held in high honour. The law book of Manu followed this doctrine, though with an admixture of the theistic notions of the Mimamsa and Vedanta systems as well as of popular mythology. The Mahabharata, especially Book XII., is full of Sankhya doctrines; indeed almost every detail of the teachings of this system is to be found somewhere in the great epic. Its numerous deviations from the regular Sankhya text-books are only secondary, as Professor Garbe thinks, even though the Mahabharata is our oldest actual source for the system. Nearly half the Puranas follow the cosmogony of the Sankhya, and even those which are Vedantic are largely influenced by its doctrines. The purity of the Sankhya notions are, however, everywhere in the Puranas obscured by Vedanta doctrines, especially that of cosmical illusion. A peculiarity of the Puranic Sankhya is the conception of Spirit or Purusha as the male, and Matter or Prakriti as the female, principle in creation. On the Sankhya system are based the two philosophical religions of Buddhism and Jainism in all their main outlines. Their fundamental doctrine is that life is nothing but suffering. The cause of suffering is the desire, based on ignorance, to live and enjoy the world. The aim of both is to redeem mankind from the misery of mundane existence by the annihilation of desire, with the aid of renunciation of the world and the practice of unbounded kindness towards all creatures. These two pessimistic religions are so extremely similar that the Jainas, or adherents of Jina, were long looked upon as a Buddhist sect. Research has, however, led to the discovery that the founders of both systems were contemporaries, the most eminent of the many teachers who in the sixth century opposed the Brahman ceremonial and caste pretensions in Northern Central India. Both religions, while acknowledging the lower and ephemeral gods of Brahmanism, deny, like the Sankhya, the existence of an eternal supreme Deity. As they developed, they diverged in various respects from the system to which they owed their philosophical notions. Hence it came about that Sankhya writers stoutly opposed some of their teachings, particularly the Buddhist denial of soul, the doctrine that all things have only a momentary existence, and that salvation is an annihilation of self. Here, however, it should be noted that Buddha himself refused to decide the question whether nirvana is complete extinction or an unending state of unconscious bliss. The latter view was doubtless a concession to the Vedantic conception of Brahma, in which the individual soul is merged on attaining salvation. The importance of these systems lies not in their metaphysical speculations, which occupy but a subordinate position, but in their high development of moral principles, which are almost entirely neglected in the orthodox systems of Indian philosophy. The fate of the two religions has been strangely different. Jainism has survived as an insignificant sect in India alone; Buddhism has long since vanished from the land of its birth, but has become a world religion counting more adherents than any other faith. The Sankhya philosophy, with the addition of a peculiar form of mental asceticism as the most effective means of acquiring saving knowledge, appears to have assumed definite shape in a manual at an earlier period than any of the other orthodox systems. This is the Yoga philosophy founded by Patanjali and expounded in the Yoga Sutras. The priority of this text-book is rendered highly probable by the fact that it is the only philosophical Sutra work which contains no polemics against the others. There seems, moreover, to be no sufficient ground to doubt the correctness of the native tradition identifying the founder of the Yoga system with the grammarian Patanjali. The Yoga Sutras therefore probably date from the second century B.C. This work also goes by the name of Sankhya-pravachana, the same as that given to the later Sankhya Sutras, a sufficiently clear proof of its close connection with Kapila's philosophy. In the Mahabharata the two systems are actually spoken of as one and the same. In order to make his system more acceptable, Patanjali introduced into it the doctrine of a personal god, but in so loose a way as not to affect the system as a whole. Indeed, the parts of the Sutras dealing with the person of God are not only unconnected with the other parts of the treatise, but even contradict the foundations of the system. For the final aim of man is here represented as the absolute isolation (kaivalya) of the soul from matter, just as in the Sankhya system, and not union with or absorption in God. Nor are the individual souls here derived from the "special soul" or God, but are like the latter without a beginning. The really distinctive part of the system is the establishment of the views prevailing in Patanjali's time with regard to asceticism and the mysterious powers to be acquired by its practice. Yoga, or "yoking" the mind, means mental concentration on a particular object. The belief that fasting and other penances produce supernatural powers goes back to remote prehistoric times, and still prevails among savage races. Bodily asceticism of this kind is known to the Vedas under the name of tapas. From this, with the advance of intellectual life in India, was developed the practice of mental asceticism called yoga, which must have been known and practised several centuries before Patanjali's time. For recent investigations have shown that Buddhism started not only from the theoretical Sankhya but from the practical Yoga doctrine; and the condition of ecstatic abstraction was from the beginning held in high esteem among the Buddhists. Patanjali only elaborated the doctrine, describing at length the means of attaining concentration and carrying it to the highest pitch. In his system the methodical practice of Yoga acquired a special importance; for, in addition to conferring supernatural powers, it here becomes the chief means of salvation. His Sutras consist of four chapters dealing with deep meditation (samadhi), the means for obtaining it (sadhana), the miraculous powers (vibhuti) it confers, and the isolation (kaivalya) of the redeemed soul. The oldest and best commentary on this work is that of Vyasa, dating from the seventh century A.D. Many of the later Upanishads are largely concerned with the Yoga doctrine. The lawbook of Manu in Book VI. refers to various details of Yoga practice. Indeed, it seems likely, owing to the theistic point of view of that work, that its Sankhya notions were derived from the Yoga system. The Mahabharata treats of Yoga in considerable detail, especially in Book XII. It is particularly prominent in the Bhagavadgita, which is even designated a yoga-çastra. Belief in the efficacy of Yoga still prevails in India, and its practice survives. But its adherents, the Yogis, are at the present day often nothing more than conjurers and jugglers. The exercises of mental concentration are in the later commentaries distinguished by the name of raja-yoga or "chief Yoga." The external expedients are called kriya-yoga, or "practical Yoga." The more intense form of the latter, in later works called hatha-yoga, or "forcible Yoga," and dealing for the most part with suppression of the breath, is very often contrasted with raja-yoga. Among the eight branches of Yoga practice the sitting posture (asana), as not only conducive to concentration, but of therapeutic value, is considered important. In describing its various forms later writers positively revelled, eighty-four being frequently stated to be their normal number. In the hatha-yoga there are also a number of other postures and contortions of the limbs designated mudra. The best-known mudra, called khechari, consists in turning the tongue back towards the throat and keeping the gaze fixed on a point between the eyebrows. Such practices, in conjunction with the suppression of breath, were capable of producing a condition of trance. There is at least the one well-authenticated case of a Yogi named Haridas who in the thirties wandered about in Rajputana and Lahore, allowing himself to be buried for money when in the cataleptic condition. The burial of the Master of Ballantrae by the Indian Secundra Dass in Stevenson's novel was doubtless suggested by an account of this ascetic. In contrast with the two older and intimately connected dualistic schools of the Sankhya and Yoga, there arose about the beginning of our era the only two, even of the six orthodox systems of philosophy, which were theistic from the outset. One of them, being based on the Vedas and the Brahmanas, is concerned with the practical side of Vedic religion; while the other, alone among the philosophical systems, represents a methodical development of the fundamental non-dualistic speculations of the Upanishads. The former, which has only been accounted a philosophical system at all because of its close connection with the latter, is the Purva-mimamsa or "First Inquiry," also called Karma-mimamsa or "Inquiry concerning Works," but usually simply Mimamsa. Founded by Jaimini, and set forth in the Karma-mimamsa Sutras, this system discusses the sacred ceremonies and the rewards resulting from their performance. Holding the Veda to be uncreated and existent from all eternity, it lays special stress on the proposition that articulate sounds are eternal, and on the consequent doctrine that the connection of a word with its sense is not due to convention, but is by nature inherent in the word itself. Owing to its lack of philosophical interest, this system has not as yet much occupied the attention of European scholars. The oldest commentary in existence on the Mimamsa Sutras is the bhashya of Çabara Svamin, which in its turn was commented on about 700 A.D. by the great Mimamsist Kumarila in his Tantra-varttika and in his Çloka-varttika, the latter a metrical paraphrase of Çabara's exposition of the first aphorism of Patanjali. Among the later commentaries on the Mimamsa Sutras the most important is the Jaiminiya-nyaya-mala-vistara of Madhava (fourteenth century). Far more deserving of attention is the theoretical system of the Uttara-Mimamsa, or "Second Inquiry." For it not only systematises the doctrines of the Upanishads--therefore usually termed Vedanta, or "End of the Veda"--but also represents the philosophical views of the Indian thinkers of to-day. In the words of Professor Deussen, its relation to the earlier Upanishads resembles that of Christian dogmatics to the New Testament. Its fundamental doctrine, expressed in the famous formula tat tvam asi, "thou art that," is the identity of the individual soul with God (brahma). Hence it is also called the Brahma- or Çariraka-mimamsa, "Inquiry concerning Brahma or the embodied soul." The eternal and infinite Brahma not being made up of parts or liable to change, the individual soul, it is here laid down, cannot be a part or emanation of it, but is the whole indivisible Brahma. As there is no other existence but Brahma, the Vedanta is styled the advaita-vada, or "doctrine of non-duality," being, in other words, an idealistic monism. The evidence of experience, which shows a multiplicity of phenomena, and the statements of the Veda, which teach a multiplicity of souls, are brushed aside as the phantasms of a dream which are only true till waking takes place. The ultimate cause of all such false impressions is avidya or innate ignorance, which this, like the other systems, simply postulates, but does not in any way seek to account for. It is this ignorance which prevents the soul from recognising that the empirical world is mere maya or illusion. Thus to the Vedantist the universe is like a mirage, which the soul under the influence of desire (trishna or "thirst") fancies it perceives, just as the panting hart sees before it sheets of water in the fata morgana (picturesquely called mriga-trishna or "deer-thirst" in Sanskrit). The illusion vanishes as if by magic, when the scales fall from the eyes, on the acquisition of true knowledge. Then the semblance of any distinction between the soul and God disappears, and salvation (moksha), the chief end of man, is attained. Saving knowledge cannot of course be acquired by worldly experience, but is revealed in the theoretical part (jnana-kanda) of the Vedas, that is to say, in the Upanishads. By this correct knowledge the illusion of the multiplicity of phenomena is dispelled, just as the illusion of a snake when there is only a rope. Two forms of knowledge are, however, distinguished in the Vedanta, a higher (para) and a lower (apara). The former is concerned with the higher and impersonal Brahma (neuter), which is without form or attributes, while the latter deals with the lower and personal Brahma (masculine), who is the soul of the universe, the Lord (içvara) who has created the world and grants salvation. The contradiction resulting from one and the same thing having form and no form, attributes and no attributes, is solved by the explanation that the lower Brahma has no reality, but is merely an illusory form of the higher and only Brahma, produced by ignorance. The doctrines of the Vedanta are laid down in the Brahma-sutras of Badarayana. This text-book, the meaning of which is not intelligible without the aid of a commentary, was expounded in his bhashya by the famous Vedantist philosopher Çankara, whose name is intimately connected with the revival of Brahmanism. He was born in 788 A.D., became an ascetic in 820, and probably lived to an advanced age. There is every likelihood that his expositions agree in all essentials with the meaning of the Brahma-sutras, The full elaboration of the doctrine of Maya, or cosmic illusion, is, however, due to him. An excellent epitome of the teachings of the Vedanta, as set forth by Çankara, is the Vedanta-sara of Sadananda Yogindra. Its author departs from Çankara's views only in a few particulars, which show an admixture of Sankhya doctrine. Among the many commentaries on the Brahma-sutras subsequent to Çankara, the most important is that of Ramanuja, who lived in the earlier half of the twelfth century. This writer gives expression to the views of the Pancharatras or Bhagavatas, an old Vishnuite sect, whose doctrine, closely allied to Christian ideas, is expounded in the Bhagavadgita and the Bhagavata-purana, as well as in the special text-books of the sect. The tenets of the Bhagavatas, as set forth by Ramanuja, diverge considerably from those of the Brahma-sutras on which he is commenting. For, according to him, individual souls are not identical with God; they suffer from innate unbelief, not ignorance, while belief or the love of God (bhakti), not knowledge, is the means of salvation or union with God. The last two orthodox systems of philosophy, the Vaiçeshika and the Nyaya, form a closely-connected pair, since a strict classification of ideas, as well as the explanation of the origin of the world from atoms, is common to both. Much the older of the two is the Vaiçeshika, which is already assailed in the Brahma-sutras. It is there described as undeserving of attention, because it had no adherents. This was certainly not the case in later times, when this system became very popular. It received its name from the category of "particularity" (viçesha) on which great stress is laid in its theory of atoms. The memory of its founder is only preserved in his nickname Kanada (also Kanabhuj or Kana-bhaksha), which means "atom-eater." The main importance of the system lies in the logical categories which it set up and under which it classed all phenomena. The six which it originally set up are substance, quality, motion, generality, particularity, and inherence. They are rigorously defined and further subdivided. The most interesting is that of inherence or inseparable connection (samavaya), which, being clearly distinguished from that of accident or separable connection (samyoga), is described as the relation between a thing and its properties, the whole and its parts, genus and species, motion and the object in motion. Later was added a seventh, that of non-existence (abhava), which, by affording special facilities for the display of subtlety, has had a momentous influence on Indian logic. This category was further subdivided into prior and posterior non-existence (which we should respectively call future and past existence), mutual non-existence (as between a jar and cloth), and absolute non-existence (as fire in water). Though largely concerned with these categories, the Vaiçeshika system aimed at attaining a comprehensive philosophic view in connection with them. Thus while dealing with the category of "substance," it develops its theory of the origin of the world from atoms. The consideration of the category of "quality" similarly leads to its treatment of psychology, which is remarkable and has analogies with that of the Sankhya. Soul is here regarded as without beginning or end, and all-pervading, subject to the limitations of neither time nor space. Intimately connected with soul is "mind" (manas), the internal organ of thought, which alone enables the soul to know not only external objects but its own qualities. As this organ is, in contrast with soul, an atom, it can only comprehend a single object at any given moment. This is the explanation why the soul cannot be conscious of all objects simultaneously. The Nyaya system is only a development and complement of that of Kanada, its metaphysics and psychology being the same. Its specific character consists in its being a very detailed and acute exposition of formal logic. As such it has remained the foundation of philosophical studies in India down to the present day. Besides dealing fully with the means of knowledge, which it states to be perception, inference, analogy, and trustworthy evidence, it treats exhaustively of syllogisms and fallacies. It is interesting to note that the Indian mind here independently arrived at an exposition of the syllogism as the form of deductive reasoning. The text-book of this system is the Nyaya-sutra of Gotama. The importance here attached to logic appears from the very first aphorism, which enumerates sixteen logical notions with the remark that salvation depends on a correct knowledge of their nature. Neither the Vaiçeshika nor the Nyaya-sutras originally accepted the existence of God; and though both schools later became theistic, they never went so far as to assume a creator of matter. Their theology is first found developed in Udayanacharya's Kusumanjali, which was written about 1200 A.D., and in works which deal with the two systems conjointly. Here God is regarded as a "special" soul, which differs from all other individual eternal souls by exemption from all qualities connected with transmigration, and by the possession of the power and knowledge qualifying him to be a regulator of the universe. Of the eclectic movement combining Sankhya, Yoga, and Vedanta doctrines, the oldest literary representative is the Çvetaçvatara Upanishad. More famous is the Bhagavadgita in which the Supreme Being incarnate as Krishna expounds to Arjuna his doctrines in this sense. The burden of his teaching is that the zealous performance of his duty is a man's most important task, to whatever caste he may belong. The beauty and the power of the language in which this doctrine is inculcated, is unsurpassed in any other work of Indian literature. By the side of the orthodox systems and the two non-Brahmanical religions, flourished the lokayata ("directed to the world of sense"), or materialistic school, usually called that of the Charvakas from the name of the founder of the doctrine. It was regarded as peculiarly heretical, for it not only rejected the authority of the Vedas and Brahmanic ceremonial, but denied the doctrines of transmigration and salvation accepted by all other systems. Materialistic teachings may be traced even before the time of Buddha, and they have had many secret followers in India down to the present day. The system, however, seems never to have had more than one text-book, the lost Sutras of Brihaspati, its mythical founder. Our knowledge of it is derived partly from the polemics of other schools, but especially from the Sarvadarçana-samgraha, or "Compendium of all the Philosophical Systems," composed in the fourteenth century by the well-known Vedantist Madhavacharya, brother of Sayana. The strong scepticism of the Charvakas showed itself in the rejection of all the means of knowledge accepted by other schools, excepting perception. To them matter was the only reality. Soul they regarded as nothing but the body with the attribute of intelligence. They held it to be created when the body is formed by the combination of elements, just as the power of intoxication arises from the mixture of certain ingredients. Hence with the annihilation of the body the soul also is annihilated. Not transmigration, they affirm, but the true nature of things, is the cause from which phenomena proceed. The existence of all that transcends the senses they deny, sometimes with an admixture of irony. Thus the highest being, they say, is the king of the land, whose existence is proved by the perception of the whole world; hell is earthly pain produced by earthly causes; and salvation is the dissolution of the body. Even in the attribution of their text-book to Brihaspati, the name of the preceptor of the gods, a touch of irony is to be detected. The religion of the Brahmans receives a severe handling. The Vedas, say the Charvakas, are only the incoherent rhapsodies of knaves, and are tainted with the three blemishes of falsehood, self-contradiction, and tautology; Vedic teachers are impostors, whose doctrines are mutually destructive; and the ritual of the Brahmans is useful only as a means of livelihood. "If," they ask, "an animal sacrificed reaches heaven, why does the sacrificer not rather offer his own father?" On the moral side the system is pure hedonism. For the only end of man is here stated to be sensual pleasure, which is to be enjoyed by neglecting as far as possible the pains connected with it, just as a man who desires fish takes the scales and bones into the bargain. "While life remains, let a man live happily, let him feed on ghee even though he run into debt; when once the body becomes ashes, how can it ever return again?" The author of the Sarvadarçana-samgraha, placing himself with remarkable mental detachment in the position of an adherent in each case, describes altogether sixteen systems. The six which have not been sketched above, besides being of little importance, are not purely philosophic. Five of these are sectarian, one Vishnuite and four Çivite, all of them being strongly tinctured with Sankhya and Vedanta doctrines. The sixth, the system of Panini, is classed by Madhava among the philosophies, simply because the Indian grammarians accepted the Mimamsa dogma of the eternity of sound, and philosophically developed the Yoga theory of the sphuta, or the imperceptible and eternal element inherent in every word as the vehicle of its sense. CHAPTER XVI SANSKRIT LITERATURE AND THE WEST Want of space makes it impossible for me to give even the briefest account of the numerous and, in many cases, important legal and scientific works written in Sanskrit. But I cannot conclude this survey of Sanskrit literature as an embodiment of Indian culture without sketching rapidly the influence which it has received from and exercised upon the nations of the West. An adequate treatment of this highly interesting theme could only be presented in a special volume. The oldest trace of contact between the Indians and the peoples of the West is to be found in the history of Indian writing, which, as we have already seen (p. 16) was derived from a Semitic source, probably as early as 800 B.C. The Aryans having conquered Hindustan in prehistoric times, began themselves to fall under foreign domination from an early period. The extreme north-west became subject to Persian sway from about 500 to 331 B.C. under the Achæmenid dynasty. Cyrus the First made tributary the Indian tribes of the Gandharas and Açvakas. The old Persian inscriptions of Behistun and Persepolis show that his successor, Darius Hystaspis, ruled over not only the Gandharians, but also the people of the Indus. Herodotus also states that this monarch had subjected the "Northern Indians." At the command of the same Darius, a Greek named Skylax is said to have travelled in India, and to have navigated the Indus in 509 B.C. From his account various Greek writers, among them Herodotus, derived their information about India. In the army which Xerxes led against Greece in 480 B.C. there were divisions of Gandharians and Indians, whose dress and equipment are described by Herodotus. That historian also makes the statement that the satrapy of India furnished the heaviest tribute in the Persian empire, adding that the gold with which it was paid was brought from a desert in the east, where it was dug up by ants larger than foxes. At the beginning of the fourth century B.C., the Greek physician Ktesias, who resided at the court of Artaxerxes II., learnt much from the Persians about India, and was personally acquainted with wise Indians. Little useful information can, however, be derived from the account of India which he wrote after his return in 398 B.C., as it has been very imperfectly preserved, and his reputation for veracity did not stand high among his countrymen. The destruction of the Persian empire by Alexander the Great led to a new invasion of India, which fixes the first absolutely certain date in Indian history. In 327 B.C. Alexander passed over the Hindu Kush with an army of 120,000 infantry and 30,000 cavalry. After taking the town of Pushkalavati (the Greek Peukelaotis) at the confluence of the Kabul and Indus, and subduing the Açvakas (variously called Assakanoi, Aspasioi, Hippasioi, by Greek writers) on the north and the Gandharas on the south of the Kabul River, he crossed the Indus early in 326. At Takshaçila (Greek Taxiles), between the Indus and the Jhelum (Hydaspes), the Greeks for the first time saw Brahman Yogis, or "the wise men of the Indians," as they called them, and were astonished at their asceticism and strange doctrines. Between the Jhelum and the Chenab (Akesines) lay the kingdom of the Pauravas or Pauras, whose prince, called Porus by the Greeks from the name of his people, led out an army of 50,000 infantry, 4000 cavalry, 200 elephants, and 400 chariots to check the advance of the invader. Then on the banks of the Jhelum was fought the great historic battle, in which Alexander, after a severe struggle, finally won the day by superior numbers and force of genius. He continued his victorious march eastwards till he reached the Sutlej (Greek Zadadres). But here his further progress towards the Ganges was arrested by the opposition of his Macedonians, intimidated by the accounts they heard of the great power of the king of the Prasioi (Sanskrit Prachyas, or "Easterns"). Hence, after appointing satraps of the Panjab and of Sindh, he sailed down to the mouths of the Indus and returned to Persia by Gedrosia. Of the writings of those who accompanied Alexander, nothing has been preserved except statements from them in later authors. After Alexander's death the assassination of the old king Porus by Eudemus, the satrap of the Panjab, led to a rebellion in which the Indians cast off the Greek yoke under the leadership of a young adventurer named Chandragupta (the Sandrakottos or Sandrokyptos of the Greeks). Having gained possession of the Indus territory in 317, and dethroned the king of Pataliputra in 315 B.C., he became master of the whole Ganges Valley as well. The Maurya dynasty, which he thus founded, lasted for 137 years (315-178 B.C.). His empire was the largest hitherto known in India, as it embraced the whole territory between the Himalaya and the Vindhya from the mouths of the Ganges to the Indus, including Gujarat. Seleucus, who had founded a kingdom in Media and Persia, feeling himself unable to vanquish Chandragupta, sent a Greek named Megasthenes to reside at his court at Pataliputra. This ambassador thus lived for several years in the heart of India between 311 and 302 B.C., and wrote a work entitled Ta Indika, which is particularly valuable as the earliest direct record of his visit by a foreigner who knew the country himself. Megasthenes furnishes particulars about the strength of Chandragupta's army and the administration of the state. He mentions forest ascetics (Hylobioi), and distinguishes Brachmanes and Sarmanai as two classes of philosophers, meaning, doubtless, Brahmans and Buddhists (çramanas). He tells us that the Indians worshipped the rain-bringing Zeus (Indra) as well as the Ganges, which must, therefore, have already been a sacred river. By his description of the god Dionysus, whom they worshipped in the mountains, Çiva must be intended, and by Herakles, adored in the plains, especially among the Çurasenas on the Yamuna and in the city of Methora, no other can be meant than Vishnu and his incarnation Krishna, the chief city of whose tribe of Yadavas was Mathura (Muttra). These statements seem to justify the conclusion that Çiva and Vishnu were already prominent as highest gods, the former in the mountains, the latter in the Ganges Valley. Krishna would also seem to have been regarded as an Avatar of Vishnu, though it is to be noted that Krishna is not yet mentioned in the old Buddhist Sutras. We also learn from Megasthenes that the doctrine of the four ages of the world (yugas) was fully developed in India by his time. Chandragupta's grandson, the famous Açoka, not only maintained his national Indian empire, but extended it in every direction. Having adopted Buddhism as the state religion, he did much to spread its doctrines, especially to Ceylon, which since then has remained the most faithful guardian of Buddhist tradition. After Açoka's death the Græco-Bactrian princes began about 200 B.C. to conquer Western India, and ruled there for about eighty years. Euthydemos extended his dominions to the Jhelum. His son Demetrios (early in the second century B.C.) appears to have held sway over the Lower Indus, Malava, Gujarat, and probably also Kashmir. He is called "King of the Indians," and was the first to introduce a bilingual coinage by adding an Indian inscription in Kharoshthi characters on the reverse to the Greek on the obverse. Eukratides (190-160 B.C.), who rebelled against Demetrios, subjected the Panjab as far east as the Beäs. After the reign of Heliokles (160-120 B.C.), the Greek princes in India ceased to be connected with Bactria. The most prominent among these Græco-Indians was Menander (c. 150 B.C.), who, under the name of Milinda, is well known in Buddhist writings. The last vestige of Greek domination in India disappeared about 20 B.C., having lasted nearly two centuries. It is a remarkable fact that no Greek monumental inscriptions have ever been found in India. With the beginning of the Græco-Indian period also commenced the incursions of the Scythic tribes, who are called Indo-Scythians by the Greeks, and by the Indians Çakas, the Persian designation of Scythians in general. Of these so-called Scythians the Jats of the Panjab are supposed to be the descendants. The rule of these Çaka kings, the earliest of whom is Maues or Moa (c. 120 B.C.), endured down to 178 A.D., or about three centuries. Their memory is preserved in India by the Çaka era, which is still in use, and dates from 78 A.D., the inaugural year of Kanishka, the only famous king of this race. His dominions, which included Kanyakubja (Kanauj) on the Ganges, extended beyond the confines of India to parts of Central Asia. A zealous adherent of Buddhism, he made Gandhara and Kashmir the chief seat of that religion, and held the fourth Buddhist council in the latter country. About 20 B.C. the Çakas were followed into India by the Kushanas, who were one of the five tribes of the Yueh-chi from Central Asia, and who subsequently conquered the whole of Northern India. After having been again united into a single empire almost as great as that of Chandragupta under the national dynasty of the Guptas, from 319 to 480 A.D., Northern India, partly owing to the attacks of the Hunas, was split up into several kingdoms, some under the later Guptas, till 606 A.D., when Harshavardhana of Kanauj gained paramount power over the whole of Northern India. During his reign the poet Bana flourished, and the celebrated Chinese pilgrim Hiouen Thsang visited India. With the Muhammadan conquest about 1000 A.D. the country again fell under a foreign yoke. As after Alexander's invasion, we have the good fortune to possess in Alberuni's India (c. 1030 A.D.) the valuable work of a cultivated foreigner, giving a detailed account of the civilisation of India at this new era in its history. This repeated contact of the Indians with foreign invaders from the West naturally led to mutual influences in various branches of literature. With regard to the Epics, we find the statement of the Greek rhetorician Dio Chrysostomos (50-117 A.D.) that the Indians sang in their own language the poetry of Homer, the sorrows of Priam, the laments of Andromache and Hecuba, the valour of Achilles and Hector. The similarity of some of the leading characters of the Mahabharata, to which the Greek writer evidently alludes, caused him to suppose that the Indian epic was a translation of the Iliad. There is, however, no connection of any kind between the two poems. Nor does Professor Weber's assumption of Greek influence on the Ramayana appear to have any sufficient basis (p. 307). The view has been held that the worship of Krishna, who, as we have seen, plays an important part in the Mahabharata, arose under the influence of Christianity, with which it certainly has some rather striking points of resemblance. This theory is, however, rendered improbable, at least as far as the origin of the cult of Krishna is concerned, by the conclusions at which we have arrived regarding the age of the Mahabharata (pp. 286-287), as well as by the statements of Megasthenes, which indicate that Krishna was deified and worshipped some centuries before the beginning of our era. We know, moreover, from the Mahabhashya that the story of Krishna was the subject of dramatic representations in the second or, at latest, the first century before the birth of Christ. It is an interesting question whether the Indian drama has any genetic connection with that of Greece. It must be admitted that opportunities for such a connection may have existed during the first three centuries preceding our era. On his expedition to India, Alexander was accompanied by numerous artists, among whom there may have been actors. Seleucus gave his daughter in marriage to Chandragupta, and both that ruler and Ptolemy II. maintained relations with the court of Pataliputra by means of ambassadors. Greek dynasties ruled in Western India for nearly two centuries. Alexandria was connected by a lively commerce with the town called by the Greeks Barygaza (now Broach), at the mouth of the Narmada (Nerbudda) in Gujarat; with the latter town was united by a trade route the city of Ujjayini (Greek Ozene), which in consequence reached a high pitch of prosperity. Philostratus (second century A.D.), not it is true a very trustworthy authority, states in his Life of Apollonius of Tyana, who visited India about 50 A.D., that Greek literature was held in high esteem by the Brahmans. Indian inscriptions mention Yavana or Greek girls sent to India as tribute, and Sanskrit authors, especially Kalidasa, describe Indian princes as waited on by them. Professor Weber has even conjectured that the Indian god of love, Kama, bears a dolphin (makara) in his banner, like the Greek Eros, through the influence of Greek courtesans. The existence of such conditions has induced Professor Weber to believe that the representations of Greek plays, which must have taken place at the courts of Greek princes in Bactria, in the Panjab, and in Gujarat, suggested the drama to the Indians as a subject for imitation. This theory is supported by the fact that the curtain of the Indian stage is called yavanika or the "Greek partition." Weber at the same time admits that there is no internal connection between the Indian and the Greek drama. Professor Windisch, however, went further, and maintained such internal connection. It was, indeed, impossible for him to point out any affinity to the Greek tragedy, but he thought he could trace in the Mricchakatika the influence of the new Attic comedy, which reached its zenith with Menander about 300 B.C. The points in which that play resembles this later Greek comedy are fewer and slighter in other Sanskrit dramas, and can easily be explained as independently developed in India. The improbability of the theory is emphasised by the still greater affinity of the Indian drama to that of Shakespeare. It is doubtful whether Greek plays were ever actually performed in India; at any rate, no references to such performances have been preserved. The earliest Sanskrit plays extant are, moreover, separated from the Greek period by at least four hundred years. The Indian drama has had a thoroughly national development, and even its origin, though obscure, easily admits of an indigenous explanation. The name of the curtain, yavanika, may, indeed, be a reminiscence of Greek plays actually seen in India; but it is uncertain whether the Greek theatre had a curtain at all; in any case, it did not form the background of the stage. It is a fact worth noting, that the beginning of one of the most famous of modern European dramas has been modelled on that of a celebrated Sanskrit play. The prelude of Çakuntala suggested to Goethe the plan of the prologue on the stage in Faust, where the stage-manager, the merryandrew, and the poet converse regarding the play about to be performed (cf. p. 351). Forster's German translation of Kalidasa's masterpiece appeared in 1791, and the profound impression it produced on Goethe is proved by the well-known epigram he composed on Çakuntala in the same year. The impression was a lasting one; for the theatre prologue of Faust was not written till 1797, and as late as 1830 the poet thought of adapting the Indian play for the Weimar stage. If in epic and dramatic poetry hardly any definite influences can be traced between India and the West, how different is the case in the domain of fables and fairy tales! The story of the migration of these from India certainly forms the most romantic chapter in the literary history of the world. We know that in the sixth century A.D. there existed in India a Buddhist collection of fables, in which animals play the part of human beings (cf. p. 369). By the command of the Sassanian king, Khosru Anushirvan (531-579), this work was translated by a Persian physician named Barzoi into Pehlevi. Both this version and the unmodified original have been lost, but two early and notable translations from the Pehlevi have been preserved. The Syriac one was made about 570 A.D., and called Kalilag and Damnag. A manuscript of it was found by chance in 1870, and, becoming known to scholars by a wonderful chapter of lucky accidents, was published in 1876. The Arabic translation from the Pehlevi, entitled Kalilah and Dimnah, or "Fables of Pilpay," was made in the eighth century by a Persian convert to Islam, who died about 760 A.D. In this translation a wicked king is represented to be reclaimed to virtue by a Brahman philosopher named Bidbah, a word which has been satisfactorily traced through Pehlevi to the Sanskrit vidyapati, "master of sciences," "chief scholar." From this bidbah is derived the modern Bidpai or Pilpay, which is thus not a proper name at all. This Arabic version is of great importance, as the source of other versions which exercised very great influence in shaping the literature of the Middle Ages in Europe. These versions of it were the later Syriac (c. 1000 A.D.), the Greek (1180), the Persian (c. 1130), recast later (c. 1494) under the title of Anvar-i-Suhaili, or "Lights of Canopus," the old Spanish (1251), and the Hebrew one made about 1250. The fourth stratum of translation is represented by John of Capua's rendering of the Hebrew version into Latin (c. 1270), entitled Directorium Humanæ Vitæ which was printed about 1480. From John of Capua's work was made, at the instance of Duke Eberhardt of Würtemberg, the famous German version, Das Buch der Byspel der alten Wysen, or "Book of Apologues of the Ancient Sages," first printed about 1481. The fact that four dated editions appeared at Ulm between 1483 and 1485, and thirteen more down to 1592, is a sufficiently eloquent proof of the importance of this work as a means of instruction and amusement during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The Directorium was also the source of the Italian version, printed at Venice in 1552, from which came the English translation of Sir Thomas North (1570). The latter was thus separated from the Indian original by five intervening translations and a thousand years of time. It is interesting to note the changes which tales undergo in the course of such wanderings. In the second edition of his Fables (1678), La Fontaine acknowledges his indebtedness for a large part of his work to the Indian sage Pilpay. A well-known story in the French writer is that of the milkmaid, who, while carrying a pail of milk on her head to market, and building all kinds of castles in the air with the future proceeds of the sale of the milk, suddenly gives a jump of joy at the prospect of her approaching fortune, and thereby shatters the pail to pieces on the ground. This is only a transformation of a story still preserved in the Panchatantra. Here it is a Brahman who, having filled an alms-bowl with the remnants of some rice-pap he has begged, hangs it up on a nail in the wall above his bed. He dreams of the money he will procure by selling the rice when a famine breaks out. Then he will gradually acquire cattle, buy a fine house, and marry a beautiful girl with a rich dowry. One day when he calls to his wife to take away his son who is playing about, and she does not hear, he will rise up to give her a kick. As this thought passes through his mind, his foot shatters the alms-bowl, the contents of which are spilt all over him. Another Panchatantra story recurring in La Fontaine is that of the too avaricious jackal. Finding the dead bodies of a boar and a hunter, besides the bow of the latter, he resolves on devouring the bowstring first. As soon as he begins to gnaw, the bow starts asunder, pierces his head, and kills him. In La Fontaine the jackal has become a wolf, and the latter is killed by the arrow shot off as he touches the bow. Nothing, perhaps, in the history of the migration of Indian tales is more remarkable than the story of Barlaam and Josaphat. At the court of Khalif Almansur (753-774), under whom Kalilah and Dimnah was translated into Arabic, there lived a Christian known as John of Damascus, who wrote in Greek the story of Barlaam and Josaphat as a manual of Christian theology. This became one of the most popular books of the Middle Ages, being translated into many Oriental as well as European languages. It is enlivened by a number of fables and parables, most of which have been traced to Indian sources. The very hero of the story, Prince Josaphat, has an Indian origin, being, in fact, no other than Buddha. The name has been shown to be a corruption of Bodhisattva, a well-known designation of the Indian reformer. Josaphat rose to the rank of a saint both in the Greek and the Roman Church, his day in the former being August 26, in the latter November 27. That the founder of an atheistic Oriental religion should have developed into a Christian saint is one of the most astounding facts in religious history. Though Europe was thus undoubtedly indebted to India for its mediæval literature of fairy tales and fables, the Indian claim to priority of origin in ancient times is somewhat dubious. A certain number of apologues found in the collections of Æsop and Babrius are distinctly related to Indian fables. The Indian claim is supported by the argument that the relation of the jackal to the lion is a natural one in the Indian fable, while the connection of the fox and the lion in Greece has no basis in fact. On the other side it has been urged that animals and birds which are peculiar to India play but a minor part in Indian fables, while there exists a Greek representation of the Æsopian fable of the fox and the raven, dating from the sixth century B.C. Weber and Benfey both conclude that the Indians borrowed a few fables from the Greeks, admitting at the same time that the Indians had independent fables of their own before. Rudimentary fables are found even in the Chhandogya Upanishad, and the transmigration theory would have favoured the development of this form of tale; indeed Buddha himself in the old Jataka stories appears in the form of various animals. Contemporaneously with the fable literature, the most intellectual game the world has known began its westward migration from India. Chess in Sanskrit is called chatur-anga, or the "four-limbed army," because it represents a kriegspiel, in which two armies, consisting of infantry, cavalry, chariots, and elephants, each led by a king and his councillor, are opposed. The earliest direct mention of the game in Sanskrit literature is found in the works of Bana, and the Kavyalamkara of Rudrata, a Kashmirian poet of the ninth century, contains a metrical puzzle illustrating the moves of the chariot, the elephant, and the horse. Introduced into Persia in the sixth century, chess was brought by the Arabs to Europe, where it was generally known by 1100 A.D. It has left its mark on mediæval poetry, on the idioms of European languages (e.g. "check," from the Persian shah, "king"), on the science of arithmetic in the calculation of progressions with the chessboard, and even in heraldry, where the "rook" often figures in coats of arms. Beside the fable literature of India, this Indian game served to while away the tedious life of myriads during the Middle Ages in Europe. Turning to Philosophical Literature, we find that the early Greek and Indian philosophers have many points in common. Some of the leading doctrines of the Eleatics, that God and the universe are one, that everything existing in multiplicity has no reality, that thinking and being are identical, are all to be found in the philosophy of the Upanishads and the Vedanta system, which is its outcome. Again, the doctrine of Empedocles, that nothing can arise which has not existed before, and that nothing existing can be annihilated, has its exact parallel in the characteristic doctrine of the Sankhya system about the eternity and indestructibility of matter. According to Greek tradition, Thales, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Democritus, and others undertook journeys to Oriental countries in order to study philosophy. Hence there is at least the historical possibility of the Greeks having been influenced by Indian thought through Persia. Whatever may be the truth in the cases just mentioned, the dependence of Pythagoras on Indian philosophy and science certainly seems to have a high degree of probability. Almost all the doctrines ascribed to him, religious, philosophical, mathematical, were known in India in the sixth century B.C. The coincidences are so numerous that their cumulative force becomes considerable. The transmigration theory, the assumption of five elements, the Pythagorean theorem in geometry, the prohibition as to eating beans, the religio-philosophical character of the Pythagorean fraternity, and the mystical speculations of the Pythagorean school, all have their close parallels in ancient India. The doctrine of metempsychosis in the case of Pythagoras appears without any connection or explanatory background, and was regarded by the Greeks as of foreign origin. He could not have derived it from Egypt, as it was not known to the ancient Egyptians. In spite, however, of the later tradition, it seems impossible that Pythagoras should have made his way to India at so early a date, but he could quite well have met Indians in Persia. Coming to later centuries, we find indications that the Neo-Platonist philosophy may have been influenced by the Sankhya system, which flourished in the first centuries of our era, and could easily have become known at Alexandria owing to the lively intercourse between that city and India at the time. From this source Plotinus (204-269 A.D.), chief of the Neo-Platonists, may have derived his doctrine that soul is free from suffering, which belongs only to matter, his identification of soul with light, and his illustrative use of the mirror, in which the reflections of objects appear, for the purpose of explaining the phenomena of consciousness. The influence of the Yoga system on Plotinus is suggested by his requirement that man should renounce the world of sense and strive after truth by contemplation. Connection with Sankhya ideas is still more likely in the case of Plotinus's most eminent pupil, Porphyry (232-304 A.D.), who lays particular stress on the difference between soul and matter, on the omnipresence of soul when freed from the bonds of matter, and on the doctrine that the world has no beginning. It is also noteworthy that he rejects sacrifice and prohibits the killing of animals. The influence of Indian philosophy on Christian Gnosticism in the second and third centuries seems at any rate undoubted. The Gnostic doctrine of the opposition between soul and matter, of the personal existence of intellect, will, and so forth, the identification of soul and light, are derived from the Sankhya system. The division, peculiar to several Gnostics, of men into the three classes of pneumatikoi, psychikoi, and hylikoi, is also based on the Sankhya doctrine of the three gunas. Again, Bardesanes, a Gnostic of the Syrian school, who obtained information about India from Indian philosophers, assumed the existence of a subtle ethereal body which is identical with the linga-çarira of the Sankhya system. Finally, the many heavens of the Gnostics are evidently derived from the fantastic cosmogony of later Buddhism. With regard to the present century, the influence of Indian thought on the pessimistic philosophy of Schopenhauer and Von Hartmann is well known. How great an impression the Upanishads produced on the former, even in a second-hand Latin translation, may be inferred from his writing that they were his consolation in life and would be so in death. In Science, too, the debt of Europe to India has been considerable. There is, in the first place, the great fact that the Indians invented the numerical figures used all over the world. The influence which the decimal system of reckoning dependent on those figures has had not only on mathematics, but on the progress of civilisation in general, can hardly be over-estimated. During the eighth and ninth centuries the Indians became the teachers in arithmetic and algebra of the Arabs, and through them of the nations of the West. Thus, though we call the latter science by an Arabic name, it is a gift we owe to India. In Geometry the points of contact between the Çulva Sutras and the work of the Greeks are so considerable, that, according to Cantor, the historian of mathematics, borrowing must have taken place on one side or the other. In the opinion of that authority, the Çulva Sutras were influenced by the Alexandrian geometry of Hero (215 B.C.), which, he thinks, came to India after 100 B.C. The Çulva Sutras are, however, probably far earlier than that date, for they form an integral portion of the Çrauta Sutras, and their geometry is a part of the Brahmanical theology, having taken its rise in India from practical motives as much as the science of grammar. The prose parts of the Yajurvedas and the Brahmanas constantly speak of the arrangement of the sacrificial ground and the construction of altars according to very strict rules, the slightest deviation from which might cause the greatest disaster. It is not likely that the exclusive Brahmans should have been willing to borrow anything closely connected with their religion from foreigners. Of Astronomy the ancient Indians had but slight independent knowledge. It is probable that they derived their early acquaintance with the twenty-eight divisions of the moon's orbit from the Chaldeans through their commercial relations with the Phoenicians. Indian astronomy did not really begin to flourish till it was affected by that of Greece; it is indeed the one science in which undoubtedly strong Greek influence can be proved. The debt which the native astronomers always acknowledge they owe to the Yavanas is sufficiently obvious from the numerous Greek terms in Indian astronomical writings. Thus, in Varaha Mihira's Hora-çastra the signs of the zodiac are enumerated either by Sanskrit names translated from the Greek or by the original Greek names, as Ara for Ares, Heli for Helios, Jyau for Zeus. Many technical terms were directly borrowed from Greek works, as kendra for kentron, jamitra for diametron. Some of the very names of the oldest astronomical treatises of the Indians indicate their Western origin. Thus the Romaka-siddhanta means the "Roman manual." The title of Varaha Mihira's Hora-çastra contains the Greek word hora. In a few respects, however, the Indians independently advanced astronomical science further than the Greeks themselves, and at a later period they in their turn influenced the West even in astronomy. For in the eighth and ninth centuries they became the teachers of the Arabs in this science also. The siddhantas (Arabic Sind Hind), the writings of Aryabhata (called Arjehir), and the Ahargana (Arkand), attributed to Brahmagupta, were translated or adapted by the Arabs, and Khalifs of Bagdad repeatedly summoned Indian astronomers to their court to supervise this work. Through the Arabs, Indian astronomy then migrated to Europe, which in this case only received back in a roundabout way what it had given long before. Thus the Sanskrit word uchcha, "apex of a planet's orbit," was borrowed in the form of aux (gen. aug-is) in Latin translations of Arabic astronomers. After Bhaskara (twelfth century), Hindu astronomy, ceasing to make further progress, became once more merged in the astrology from which it had sprung. It was now the turn of the Arabs, and, by a strange inversion of things, an Arabic writer of the ninth century who had written on Indian astronomy and arithmetic, in this period became an object of study to the Hindus. The old Greek terms remained, but new Arabic ones were added as the necessity for them arose. The question as to whether Indian Medical Science in its earlier period was affected by that of the Greeks cannot yet be answered with certainty, the two systems not having hitherto been compared with sufficient care. Recently, however, some close parallels have been discovered between the works of Hippocrates and Charaka (according to a Chinese authority, the official physician of King Kanishka), which render Greek influence before the beginning of our era likely. On the other hand, the effect of Hindu medical science upon the Arabs after about 700 A.D. was considerable, for the Khalifs of Bagdad caused several books on the subject to be translated. The works of Charaka and Suçruta (probably not later than the fourth century A.D.) were rendered into Arabic at the close of the eighth century, and are quoted as authorities by the celebrated Arabic physician Al-Razi, who died in 932 A.D. Arabic medicine in its turn became the chief authority, down to the seventeenth century, of European physicians. By the latter Indian medical authors must have been thought highly of, for Charaka is repeatedly mentioned in the Latin translations of the Arab writers Avicenna (Ibn Sina), Rhazes (Al-Razi), and Serapion (Ibn Sarafyun). In modern days European surgery has borrowed the operation of rhinoplasty, or the formation of artificial noses, from India, where Englishmen became acquainted with the art in the last century. We have already seen that the discovery of the Sanskrit language and literature led, in the present century, to the foundation of the two new sciences of Comparative Mythology and Comparative Philology. Through the latter it has even affected the practical school-teaching of the classical languages in Europe. The interest in Buddhism has already produced an immense literature in Europe. Some of the finest lyrics of Heine, and works like Sir Edwin Arnold's Light of Asia, to mention only a few instances, have drawn their inspiration from Sanskrit poetry. The intellectual debt of Europe to Sanskrit literature has thus been undeniably great; it may perhaps become greater still in the years that are to come. APPENDIX ON TECHNICAL LITERATURE LAW. On Sanskrit legal literature in general, consult the very valuable work of Jolly, Recht und Sitte, in Bühler's Encyclopædia, 1896 (complete bibliography). There are several secondary Dharma Sutras of the post-Vedic period. The most important of these is the Vaishnava Dharma Çastra or Vishnu Smriti (closely connected with the Kathaka Grihya Sutra), not earlier than 200 A.D. in its final redaction (ed. by Jolly, Calcutta, 1881, trans. by him in the Sacred Books of the East, Oxford, 1880). The regular post-Vedic lawbooks are metrical (mostly in çlokas). They are much wider in scope than the Dharma Sutras, which are limited to matters connected with religion. The most important and earliest of the metrical Smritis is the Manava Dharma Çastra, or Code of Manu, not improbably based on a Manava Dharma Sutra. It is closely connected with the Mahabharata, of which three books alone (iii., xii., xvi.) contain as many as 260 of its 2684 çlokas. It probably assumed its present shape not much later than 200 A.D. It was ed. by Jolly, London, 1887; trans. by Bühler, with valuable introd., in the Sacred Books, Oxford, 1886; also trans. by Burnell (ed. by Hopkins), London, 1884; text ed., with seven comm., by Mandlik, Bombay, 1886; text, with Kulluka's comm., Bombay, 1888, better than Nirn. Sag. Pr., ed. 1887. Next comes the Yajnavalkya Dharma Çastra, which is much more concise (1009 çlokas). It was probably based on a Dharma Sutra of the White Yajurveda; its third section resembles the Paraskara Grihya Sutra, but it is unmistakably connected with the Manava Grihya Sutra of the Black Yajurveda. Its approximate date seems to be about 350 A.D. Its author probably belonged to Mithila, capital of Videha (Tirhut). Yajnavalkya, ed. and trans, by Stenzler, Berlin, 1849; with comm. Mitakshara, 3rd ed., Bombay, 1892. The Narada Smriti is the first to limit dharma to law in the strict sense. It contains more than 12,000 çlokas, and appears to have been founded chiefly on Manu. Bana mentions a Naradiya Dharma Çastra, and Narada was annotated by one of the earliest legal commentators in the eighth century. His date is probably about 500 A.D. Narada, ed. by Jolly, Calcutta, 1885, trans. by him in Sacred Books, vol. xxxiii. 1889. A late lawbook is the Paraçara Smriti (anterior to 1300 A.D.), ed. in Bombay Sansk. Series, 1893; trans. Bibl. Ind., 1887. The second stage of post-Vedic legal literature is formed by the commentaries. The oldest one preserved is that of Medhatithi on Manu; he dates from about 900 A.D. The most famous comm. on Manu is that of Kulluka-bhatta, composed at Benares in the fifteenth century, but it is nothing more than a plagiarism of Govindaraja, a commentator of the twelfth century. The most celebrated comm. on Yajnavalkya is the Mitakshara of Vijnaneçvara, composed about 1100 A.D. It early attained to the position of a standard work, not only in the Dekhan, but even in Benares and a great part of Northern India. In the present century it acquired the greatest importance in the practice of the Anglo-Indian law-courts through Colebrooke's translation of the section which it contains on the law of inheritance. From about 1000 A.D. onwards, an innumerable multitude of legal compendia, called Dharma-nibandhas, was produced in India. The most imposing of them is the voluminous work in five parts entitled Chaturvarga-chintamani, composed by Hemadri about 1300 A.D. It hardly treats of law at all, but is a perfect mine of interesting quotations from the Smritis and the Puranas; it has been edited in the Bibl. Ind. The Dharmaratna of Jimutavahana (probably fifteenth century) may here be mentioned, because part of it is the famous treatise on the law of inheritance entitled Dayabhaga, which is the chief work of the Bengal School on the subject, and was translated by Colebrooke. It should be noted that the Indian Smritis are not on the same footing as the lawbooks of other nations, but are works of private individuals; they were also written by Brahmans for Brahmans, whose caste pretensions they consequently exaggerate. It is therefore important to check their statements by outside evidence. HISTORY. No work of a directly historical character is met with in Sanskrit literature till after the Muhammadan conquest. This is the Rajatarangini, or "River of Kings," a chronicle of the kings of Kashmir, begun by its author, Kalhana, in 1148 A.D. It contains nearly 8000 çlokas. The early part of the work is legendary in character. The poet does not become historical till he approaches his own times. This work (ed. M. A. Stein, Bombay, 1892; trans, by Y. C. Datta, Calc., 1898) is of considerable value for the archæology and chronology of Kashmir. GRAMMAR. On the native grammatical literature see especially Wackernagel, Altindische Grammatik, vol. i. p. lix. sqq. The oldest grammar preserved is that of Panini, who, however, mentions no fewer than sixty-four predecessors. He belonged to the extreme north-west of India, and probably flourished about 300 B.C. His work consists of nearly 4000 sutras divided into eight chapters; text with German trans., ed. by Böhtlingk, Leipsic, 1887. Panini had before him a list of irregularly formed words, which survives, in a somewhat modified form, as the Unadi Sutra (ed. by Aufrecht, with Ujjvaladatta's comm., Bonn, 1859). There are also two appendixes to which Panini refers: one is the Dhatupatha, "List of Verbal Roots," containing some 2000 roots, of which only about 800 have been found in Sanskrit literature, and from which about fifty Vedic verbs are omitted; the second is the Ganapatha, or "List of Word-Groups," to which certain rules apply. These ganas were metrically arranged in the Ganaratna-mahodadhi, composed by Vardhamana in 1140 A.D. (ed. by Eggeling, London, 1879). Among the earliest attempts to explain Panini was the formulation of rules of interpretation or paribhashas; a collection of these was made in the last century by Nagojibhatta in his Paribhashenduçekhara (ed. by Kielhorn, Bombay Sansk. Ser., 1868 and 1871). Next we have the Varttikas or "Notes" of Katyayana (probably third century B.C.) on 1245 of Panini's rules, and, somewhat later, numerous grammatical Karikas or comments in metrical form: all this critical work was collected by Patanjali in his Mahabhashya or "Great Commentary," with supplementary comments of his own (ed. Kielhorn, 3 vols., Bombay). He deals with 1713 rules of Panini. He probably lived in the later half of the second century B.C., and in any case not later than the beginning of our era. The Mahabhashya was commented on in the seventh century by Bhartrihari in his Vakyapadiya (ed. in Benares Sansk. Ser.), which is concerned with the philosophy of grammar, and by Kaiyata (probably thirteenth century). About 650 A.D. was composed the first complete comm. on Panini, the Kaçika Vritti or "Benares Commentary," by Jayaditya and Vamana (2nd ed. Benares, 1898). In the fifteenth century Ramachandra, in his Prakriya-kaumudi, or "Moonlight of Method," endeavoured to make Panini's grammar easier by a more practical arrangement of its matter. Bhattoji's Siddhanta-kaumudi (seventeenth century) has a similar aim (ed. Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1894); an abridgment of this work, the Laghu-kaumudi, by Varadaraja (ed. Ballantyne, with English trans., 4th ed., Benares, 1891), is commonly used as an introduction to the native system of grammar. Among non-Paninean grammarians may be mentioned Chandra (about 600 A.D.), the pseudo-Çakatayana (later than the Kaçika), and, the most important, Hemachandra (12th cent.), author of a Prakrit grammar (ed. and trans. by Pischel, two vols., Halle, 1877-80), and of the Unadigana Sutra (ed. Kirste, Vienna, 1895). The Katantra of Çarvavarman (ed. Eggeling, Bibl. Ind.) seems to have been the most influential of the later grammars. Vararuchi's Prakrita-prakaça is a Prakrit grammar (ed. by Cowell, 2nd ed., 1868). The Mugdhabodha (13th cent.) of Vopadeva is the Sanskrit grammar chiefly used in Bengal. The Phit Sutra (later than Patanjali) gives rules for the accentuation of nouns (ed. Kielhorn, 1866); Hemachandra's Linganuçasana is a treatise on gender (ed. Franke, Göttingen, 1886). Among European grammars that of Whitney was the first to attempt a historical treatment of the Vedic and Sanskrit language. The first grammar treating Sanskrit from the comparative point of view is the excellent work of Wackernagel, of which, however, only the first part (phonology) has yet appeared. The present writer's abridgment (London, 1886) of Max Müller's Sanskrit Grammar is a practical work for the use of beginners of Classical Sanskrit. LEXICOGRAPHY. Zachariæ in Die indischen Wörterbücher (in Bühler's Encyclopædia, 1897) deals with the subject as a whole (complete bibliography). The Sanskrit dictionaries or koças are collections of rare words or significations for the use of poets. They are all versified; alphabetical order is entirely absent in the synonymous and only incipient in the homonymous class. The Amarakoça (ed. with Maheçvara's comm., Bombay), occupies the same dominant position in lexicography as Panini in grammar, not improbably composed about 500 A.D. A supplement to it is the Trikanda-çesha by Purushottamadeva (perhaps as late as 1300 A.D.). Çaçvata's Anekartha-samuchchaya (ed. Zachariæ, 1882) is possibly older than Amara. Halayudha's Abhidhanaratnamala dates from about 950 A.D. (ed. Aufrecht, London, 1861). About a century later is Yadavaprakaça's Vaijayanti (ed. Oppert, Madras, 1893). The Viçvaprakaça of Maheçvara Kavi dates from 1111 A.D. The Mankha-koça (ed. Zachariæ, Bombay, 1897) was composed in Kashmir about 1150 A.D. Hemachandra (1088-1172 A.D.) composed four dictionaries: Abhidhana-chintamani, synonyms (ed. Böhtlingk and Rieu, St. Petersburg, 1847); Anekartha-samgraha, homonyms (ed. Zachariæ, Vienna, 1893); Deçinamamala, a Prakrit dictionary (ed. Pischel, Bombay, 1880); and Nighantu-çesha, a botanical glossary, which forms a supplement to his synonymous koça. POETICS. Cf. Sylvain Lévi, Théâtre Indien, pp. 1-21; Regnaud, La Rhétorique Sanskrite, Paris, 1884; Jacob, Notes on Alamkara Literature, in Journal of the Roy. As. Soc., 1897, 1898. The oldest and most important work on poetics is the Natya Çastra of Bharata, which probably goes back to the sixth century A.D. (ed. in Kavyamala, No. 42, Bombay, 1894; ed. by Grosset, Lyons, 1897). Dandin's Kavyadarça (end of sixth century) contains about 650 çlokas (ed. with trans. by Böhtlingk, Leipsic, 1890). Vamana's Kavyalamkaravritti, probably eighth century (ed. Cappeller, Jena, 1875). Çringara-tilaka, or "Ornament of Erotics," by Rudrabhata (ninth century), ed. by Pischel, Kiel, 1886 (cf. Journal of German Or. Soc., 1888, p. 296 ff., 425 ff.; Vienna Or. Journal, ii. p. 151 ff.). Rudrata Çatananda's Kavyalamkara (ed. in Kavyamala) belongs to the ninth century. Dhanamjaya's Daçarupa, on the ten kinds of drama, belongs to the tenth century (ed. Hall, 1865; with comm. Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1897). The Kavyaprakaça by Mammata and Alata dates from about 1100 (ed. in the Pandit, 1897). The Sahityadarpana was composed in Eastern Bengal about 1450 A.D., by Viçvanatha Kaviraja (ed. J. Vidyasagara, Calcutta, 1895; trans. by Ballantyne in Bibl. Ind.). MATHEMATICS AND ASTRONOMY. The only work dealing with this subject as a whole is Thibaut's Astronomie, Astrologie und Mathematik, in Bühler-Kielhorn's Encyclopædia, 1899 (full bibliography). See also Cantor, Geschichte der Mathematik, pp. 505-562, Leipsic, 1880. Mathematics are dealt with in special chapters of the works of the early Indian astronomers. In algebra they attained an eminence far exceeding anything ever achieved by the Greeks. The earliest works of scientific Indian astronomy (after about 300 A.D.) were four treatises called Siddhantas; only one, the Suryasiddhanta (ed. and trans. by Whitney, Journ. Am. Or. Soc., vol. vi.), has survived. The doctrines of such early works were reduced to a more concise and practical form by Aryabhata, born, as he tells us himself, at Pataliputra in 476 A.D. He maintained the rotation of the earth round its axis (a doctrine not unknown to the Greeks), and explained the cause of eclipses of the sun and moon. Mathematics are treated in the third section of his work, the Aryabhatiya (ed. with comm. by Kern, Leyden, 1874; math. section trans. by Rodet, Journal Asiatique, 1879). Varaha Mihira, born near Ujjain, began his calculations about 505 A.D., and, according to one of his commentators, died in 587 A.D. He composed four works, written for the most part in the Arya metre; three are astrological: the Brihat-samhita (ed. Kern, Bibl. Ind., 1864, 1865, trans. in Journ. As. Soc., vol. iv.; new ed. with comm. of Bhattotpala by S. Dvivedi, Benares, 1895-97), the Brihaj-jataka (or Hora-çastra, trans. by C. Jyer, Madras, 1885), and the Laghu-jataka (partly trans. by Weber, Ind. Stud., vol. ii., and by Jacobi, 1872). His Pancha-siddhantika (ed. and for the most part trans. by Thibaut and S. Dvivedi, Benares, 1889), based on five siddhantas, is a karana or practical astronomical treatise. Another distinguished astronomer was Brahmagupta, who, born in 598 A.D., wrote, besides a karana, his Brahma Sphuta-siddhanta when thirty years old (chaps. xii. and xviii. are mathematical). The last eminent Indian astronomer was Bhaskaracharya, born in 1114 A.D. His Siddhanta-çiromani has enjoyed more authority in India than any other astronomical work except the Surya-siddhanta. MEDICINE. Indian medical science must have begun to develop before the beginning of our era, for one of its chief authorities, Charaka, was, according to the Chinese translation of the Buddhist Tripitaka, the official physician of King Kanishka in the first century A.D. His work, the Charaka-samhita, has been edited several times: by J. Vidyasagara, 2nd ed., Calcutta, 1896, by Gupta, Calcutta, 1897, with comm. by C. Dutta, Calcutta, 1892-1893; trans. by A. C. Kaviratna, Calcutta, 1897. Suçruta, the next great authority, seems to have lived not later than the fourth century A.D., as the Bower MS. (probably fifth century A.D.) contains passages not only parallel to, but verbally agreeing with, passages in the works of Charaka and Suçruta. (The Suçruta-samhita, ed. by J. Vidyasagara, Calcutta, 3rd ed., 1889; A. C. Kaviratna, Calcutta, 1888-95; trans. by Dutta, 1883, Chattopadhyaya, 1891, Hoernle, 1897, Calcutta.) The next best known medical writer is Vagbhata, author of the Ashtanga-hridaya (ed., with comm. of Arunadatta, by A. M. Kunte, Bombay, Nir. Sag. Press, 1891). Cf. also articles by Haas in vols. xxx., xxxi., and by A. Müller in xxxiv. of Jour. of Germ. Or. Soc.; P. Cordier, Études sur la Médecine Hindoue, Paris, 1894; Vagbhata et l'Astangahridaya-samhita, Besançon, 1896; Liétard, Le Médecin Charaka, &c., in Bull. de l'Ac. de Médecine, May 11, 1897. ARTS. On Indian music see Raja Sir Sourindro Mohun Tagore, Hindu Music from various Authors, Calcutta, 1875; Ambros, Geschichte der Musik, vol. i. pp. 41-80; Day, The Music and Musical Instruments of Southern India and the Deccan, Edinburgh, 1891; Çarngadeva's Samgitaratnakara, ed. Telang, Anand. Sansk. Ser., 1897; Somanatha's Ragavibodha, ed. with comm. by P. G. Gharpure (parts i.-v.), Poona, 1895. On painting and sculpture see E. Moor, The Hindu Pantheon, London, 1810; Burgess, Notes on the Bauddha Rock Temples of Ajanta, Bombay, 1879; Griffiths Paintings of the Buddhist Cave Temples of Ajanta, 2 vols., London, 1896-97; Burgess, The Gandhara Sculptures (with 100 plates), London, 1895; Fergusson, Tree and Serpent Worship (illustrations of mythology and art in India in the first and fourth centuries after Christ), London, 1868; Cunningham's Reports, i. and iii. (Reliefs from Buddha Gaya); Grünwedel, Buddhistiche Kunst in Indien, Berlin, 1893; Kern, Manual of Buddhism, in Bühler's Encyclopædia, pp. 91-96, Strasburg, 1896; H. H. Wilson, Ariana Antiqua, London, 1841. On Indian architecture see Fergusson, History of Indian and Eastern Architecture, London, 1876; The Rock-Cut Temples of India, 1864; Cunningham, The Bhilsa Topes, or Buddhist Monuments of Central India, London, 1854; Reports of the Archæological Survey of India, Calcutta, since 1871; Mahabodhi, or the great Buddhist Temple under the Bodhi tree at Buddha Gaya, London, 1892; Burgess, Archæological Survey of Western India and of Southern India; Daniell, Antiquities of India, London, 1800; Hindu Excavations in the Mountain of Ellora, London, 1816; R. Mitra, The Antiquities of Orissa, Calcutta, 1875. On Technical Arts see Journal of Indian Art and Industry (London, begun in 1884). BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES CHAPTER I. On the history of Sanskrit studies see especially Benfey, Geschichte der Sprachwissenschaft, Munich, 1869. A very valuable work for Sanskrit Bibliography is the annual Orientalische Bibliographie, Berlin (begun in 1888). Page 1: Some inaccurate information about the religious ideas of the Brahmans may be found in Purchas, His Pilgrimage, or Relations of the World and the Religions observed in all Ages, 2nd ed., London, 1614; and Lord, A Discoverie of the Sect of the Banians [Hindus], London, 1630. Abraham Roger, Open Deure, 1631 (contains trans. of two centuries of Bhartrihari). Page 2, Dugald Stewart, Philosophy of the Human Mind, part 2, chap. i. sect. 6 (conjectures concerning the origin of Sanskrit). C. W. Wall, D.D., An Essay on the Nature, Age, and Origin of the Sanskrit Writing and Language, Dublin, 1838. Halhed, A Code of Gentoo [Hindu] Law, or Ordinations of the Pandits, from a Persian translation, made from the original written in the Shanscrit language, 1776. Page 4: F. Schlegel, Ueber die Sprache und Weisheit der Inder, Heidelberg, 1808. Bopp, Conjugationssystem, Frankfort, 1816. Colebrooke, On the Vedas, in Asiatic Researches, Calcutta, 1805. P. 5: Roth, Zur Literatur und Geschichte des Veda, Stuttgart, 1846. Böhtlingk and Roth's Sanskrit-German Dictionary, 7 vols., St. Petersburg, 1852-75. Bühler's Encyclopædia of Indo-Aryan Research, Strasburg (the parts, some German, some English, began to appear in 1896). Page 6: See especially Aufrecht's Catalogus Catalogorum (Leipsic, 1891; Supplement, 1896), which gives a list of Sanskrit MSS. in the alphabetical order of works and authors. Adalbert Kuhn, Herabkunft des Feuers, 1849; 2nd ed., Gütersloh, 1886. Page 11: A valuable book on Indian chronology (based on epigraphic and numismatic sources) is Duff's The Chronology of India, London, 1899. On the date of Buddha's death, cf. Oldenberg, Buddha, Berlin, 3rd ed., 1897. Page 13: Fa Hian, trans. by Legge, Oxford, 1886; Hiouen Thsang, trans. by Beal, Si-yu-ki, London, 1884; I Tsing, trans. by Takakusu, Oxford, 1896. Führer, Monograph on Buddha Sakyamuni's Birthplace, Arch. Surv. of India, vol. xxvi., Allahabad, 1897; Alberuni's India, trans. into English by Sachau, London, 1885. Page 14: Corpus Inscriptionum Indicarum, vol. i., 1877, vol. iii., 1888, Calcutta. Epigraphia Indica, Calcutta, from 1888. Important Oriental journals are: Indian Antiquary, Bombay; Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaft, Leipsic; Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, London (with a Bengal branch at Calcutta and another at Bombay); Journal Asiatique, Paris; Vienna Oriental Journal, Vienna; Journal of the American Oriental Society, New Haven, Conn. On the origin of Indian writing (pp. 14-20), see Bühler, Indische Palæographie, Strasburg, 1896, and On the Origin of the Indian Brahma Alphabet, Strasburg, 1898. Page 18: The oldest known Sanskrit MSS., now in the Bodleian Library, has been reproduced in facsimile by Dr. R. Hoernle, The Bower Manuscript, Calcutta, 1897. The Pali Kharoshthi MS. is a Prakrit recension of the Dhammapada, found near Khotan; see Senart, Journal Asiatique, 1898, pp. 193-304. Page 27: The account here given of the Prakrit dialects is based mainly on a monograph of Dr. G. A. Grierson (who is now engaged on a linguistic survey of India), The Geographical Distribution and Mutual Affinities of the Indo-Aryan Vernaculars. On Pali literature, see Rhys Davids, Buddhism, its History and Literature, London, 1896. On Prakrit literature, see Grierson, The Mediæval Vernacular Literature of Hindustan, trans. of 7th Oriental Congress, Vienna, 1888, and The Modern Vernacular Literature of Hindustan, Calcutta, 1889. CHAPTER III. On the text and metres of the Rigveda see especially Oldenberg, Die Hymnen des Rigveda, vol. i., Prolegomena, Berlin, 1888; on the accent, Wackernagel, Altindische Grammatik, vol. i. pp. 281-300 (full bibliography), Göttingen, 1896; on the Rigveda in general, Kaegi, The Rigveda, English translation by Arrowsmith, Boston, 1886. Editions: Samhita text, ed. Max Müller, London, 1873; Pada text, 1877; Samhita text (in Roman characters), ed. Aufrecht, Bonn, 1877 (2nd ed.); Samhita and Pada text with Sayana's commentary, 2nd ed., 4 vols., by Max Müller, London, 1890-92. Selections in Lanman's Sanskrit Reader (full notes and vocabulary); Peterson's Hymns from the Rigveda (Bombay Sanskrit Series); A. Bergaigne and V. Henry's Manuel pour étudier le Sanskrit Védique, Paris, 1890; Windisch, Zwölf Hymnen des Rigveda, Leipzig, 1883; Hillebrandt, Vedachrestomathie, Berlin, 1885; Böhtlingk, Sanskrit-Chrestomathie, 3rd ed., Leipsic, 1897. Translations: R. H. T. Griffith, The Rigveda metrically translated into English, 2 vols., Benares, 1896-97; Max Müller, Vedic Hymns (to the Maruts, Rudra, Vayu, Vata; prose), in Sacred Books of the East, vol. xxxii., Oxford, 1891; Oldenberg, Vedic Hymns (to Agni in Books i.-v.: prose), ibid., vol. xlvi., 1897; A. Ludwig (German prose), 6 vols., Prag, 1876-88 (introduction, commentary, index). Lexicography: Grassmann, Wörterbuch zum Rigveda, Leipsic, 1873; the Vedic portion of Böhtlingk and Roth's Lexicon and of Böhtlingk's smaller St. Petersburg Dictionary (Leipsic, 1879-89); Monier-Williams, Sanskrit-English Dictionary, 2nd ed., Oxford, 1899; Macdonell, Sanskrit-English Dictionary (for selected hymns), London, 1893. Grammar: Whitney, Sanskrit Grammar, 3rd ed., Leipzig, 1896; Wackernagel, op. cit., vol. i. (phonology); Delbrück, Altindische Syntax (vol. v. of Syntaktische Forschungen), Halle, 1888; Speijer, Vedische und Sanskrit Syntax in Bühler's Encyclopædia, Strasburg, 1896. CHAPTERS IV. AND V. Consult especially Macdonell, Vedic Mythology, in Bühler's Encyclopædia, vol. iii. part 1 (complete bibliography), 1897; also Kaegi, op. cit.; Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, vol. v., 3rd ed., London, 1884; Barth, The Religions of India, English trans., London, 1882; Hopkins, The Religions of India, Boston, 1895; Oldenberg, Die Religion des Veda, Berlin, 1894; Bergaigne, La Religion Védique, 3 vols., Paris, 1878-83; Pischel and Geldner, Vedische Studien, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1889-92; Deussen, Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. i. part 1: Philosophie des Veda, Leipsic, 1894. On method of interpretation (pp. 59-64), cf. Muir, The Interpretation of the Veda, in the Journal of the Roy. As. Soc., 1866. Page 68: On the modification of the threefold division of the universe among the Greeks, cf. Kaegi, op. cit., note 118. P. 128: On dice in India and the Vibhidaka tree, cf. Roth in Gurupujakaumudi, pp. 1-4, Leipsic, 1896. CHAPTER VI. Consult especially Zimmer, Altindisches Leben, Berlin, 1879. On the home of the Rigvedic Aryans (p. 145) cf. Hopkins, The Panjab and the Rig-Veda, Journal of the Am. Or. Soc., 1898, p. 19 ff. On the Hamsa (p. 150) cf. Lanman, The Milk-drinking Hansas of Sanskrit Poetry, ibid., p. 151 ff. On the Vedic tribes (pp. 153-157), cf. Excursus I. in Oldenberg's Buddha, Berlin, 1897. On the origin of the castes (p. 160) cf. Oldenberg, Journal of the Germ. Or. Soc., 1897, pp. 267-290; R. Fick, Die Sociale Gliederung im nordöstlichen Indien zu Buddha's Zeit, Kiel, 1897. CHAPTER VII. Samaveda: text with German trans. and glossary, ed. by Benfey, Leipsic, 1848; by Satyavrata Samaçrami, Calcutta, 1873 (Bibl. Ind.), trans. by Griffith, Benares, 1893. Yajurveda: 1. Vajasaneyi Samhita, ed. Weber, with the comm. of Mahidhara, London, Berlin, 1852; trans. by Griffith, Benares, 1899; 2. Taittiriya Samhita, ed. (in Roman characters) Weber, Berlin, 1871-72 (vols. xi.-xii. of Indische Studien); also edited with the comm. of Madhava in the Bibl. Ind.; 3. Maitrayani Samhita, ed. (with introduction) by L. v. Schroeder, Leipsic, 1881-86; 4. Kathaka Samhita, ed. in preparation by the same scholar. Atharvaveda: text ed. Roth and Whitney, Berlin, 1856 (index verborum in the Journal of the Am. Or. Soc., vol. xii.); trans. into English verse by Griffith, 2 vols., Benares, 1897, and (with the omission of less important hymns) by Bloomfield into English prose, with copious notes, vol. xlii. of the Sacred Books of the East. Subject-matter: Bloomfield, The Atharvaveda in Bühler's Encyclopædia, Strasburg, 1899. CHAPTER VIII. Aitareya Brahmana, ed. Aufrecht, Bonn, 1879 (best edition); ed. and trans. by Haug, 2 vols., Bombay, 1863; Kaushitaki or Çankhayana Brahmana, ed. Lindner, Jena, 1887; Aitareya Aranyaka, ed. R. Mitra, Calcutta, 1876 (Bibl. Ind.); Kaushitaki Aranyaka, unedited; Tandya Mahabrahmana or Panchavimça Brahmana, ed. A. Vedantavagiça, Calcutta, 1869-74 (Bibl. Ind.); Shadvimça Brahmana, ed. J. Vidyasagara, 1881; ed. with trans. by Klemm, Gütersloh, 1894; Samavidhana Brahmana, ed. Burnell, London, 1873, trans. by Konow, Halle, 1893; Vamça Brahmana, ed. Weber, Indische Studien, vol. iv. pp. 371 ff., and by Burnell, Mangalore, 1873. Burnell also edited the Devatadhyaya Br., 1873, the Arsheya Br., 1876, Samhita Upanishad Br., 1877; Mantra Br., ed. S. Samaçrami, Calc., 1890; Jaiminiya or Talavakara Br., ed. in part by Burnell, 1878, and by Oertel, with trans. and notes, in the Journal of the Am. Or. Soc., vol. xvi. pp. 79-260; Taittiriya Br., ed. R. Mitra, 1855-70 (Bibl. Ind.), N. Godabole, Anand. Ser., 1898; Taittiriya Aranyaka, ed. H. N. Apte, Anand. Ser., Poona, 1898; Çatapatha Br., ed. Weber, Berlin, London, 1859; trans. by Eggeling in Sacred Books, 5 vols.; Gopatha Br., ed. R. Mitra and H. Vidyabhushana, 1872 (Bibl. Ind.), fully described in Bloomfield's Atharvaveda, pp. 101-124, in Bühler's Encyclopædia, 1899. The most important work on the Upanishads in general is Deussen, Die Philosophie der Upanishads, Leipsic, 1899; trans. of several Upanishads by Max Müller, Sacred Books, vols. i. and xv.; Deussen, Sechzig Upanishad's (trans. with valuable introductions), Leipsic, 1897; a very useful book is Jacob, A Concordance to the Principal Upanishads and Bhagavadgita (Bombay Sanskrit Series), 1891. P. 226: Thirty-two Upanishads, ed. with comm. in Anandaçrama Series, Poona, 1895; Aitareya Upanishad, ed. Roer, 1850 (Bibl. Ind.), also ed. in Anandaçrama Series, 1889; Kaushitaki Brahmana Upanishad, ed. Cowell, Calc., 1861 (Bibl. Ind.); Chhandogya Up., ed. with trans. by Böhtlingk, Leipsic, 1889; also in Anand. Ser., 1890. P. 229: Kena or Talavakara, ed. Roer, Calc., 1850; also in Anand. Ser., 1889; Maitri Up., ed. Cowell, 1870 (Bibl. Ind.); Çvetaçvatara, ed. Roer, 1850, Anand. Ser. 1890; Kathaka Up., ed. Roer, 1850, ed. with comm. by Apte, Poona, 1889, by Jacob, 1891; Taittiriya Up., ed. Roer, 1850, Anand. Ser., 1889; Brihadaranyaka Up., ed. and trans. by Böhtlingk, Leipzig, 1889, also ed. in Anand. Ser., 1891; Iça Up., ed. in Anand. Ser., 1888; Mundaka Up., ed. Roer, 1850, Apte, Anand. Ser., 1889, Jacob, 1891; Praçna Up., Anand. Ser., 1889, Jacob, 1891; Mandukya Up., Anand. Ser., 1890, Jacob, 1891; ed. with Eng. trans. and notes, Bombay, 1895; Mahanarayana Up., ed. by Jacob, with comm., Bombay Sansk. Ser., 1888; Nrisimhatapaniya Up., Anand. Ser., 1895. P. 242: The parallelism of Çankara and Plato is rather overstated; for Plato, on the one hand, did not get rid of Duality, and, on the other, only said that Becoming is not true Being. CHAPTER IX. On the sutras in general consult Hillebrandt, Ritual-Litteratur, in Bühler's Encyclopædia, 1897; Açvalayana Çrauta Sutra, ed. R. Vidyaaratna, Calc., 1864-74 (Bibl. Ind.); Çankhayana Çrauta, ed. Hillebrandt, 1885-99 (Bibl. Ind.); Latyayana Çrauta, ed. A. Vagiça, Calc., 1870-72 (Bibl. Ind.); Maçaka and Drahyayana Çrauta, unedited; Katyayana Çrauta, ed. Weber, London, Berlin, 1855; Apastamba Çrauta, in part ed. by Hillebrandt, Calc., 1882-97 (Bibl. Ind.); Vaitana Sutra, ed. Garbe, London, 1878; trans. by Garbe, Strasburg, 1878. Açvalayana Grihya Sutra, ed. with trans. by Stenzler, Leipsic, 1864-65; ed. with comm. and notes, Bombay, 1895; trans. in Sacred Books, vol. xxix.; Çankhayana Grihya, ed. and trans. into German by Oldenberg, Indische Studien, vol. xv.; Eng. trans. in Sacred Books, vol. xxix.; Gobhila Grihya, ed. with comm. by Ch. Tarkalamkara, Calc., 1880 (Bibl. Ind.); ed. by Knauer, Dorpat, 1884; trans. by Knauer, Dorpat, 1887; trans. in Sacred Books, vol. xxx.; Paraskara Grihya, ed. and trans. by Stenzler, Leipsic, 1876; trans. in Sacred Books, vol. xxix.; Apastamba Grihya, ed. Winternitz, Vienna, 1887; trans. in Sacred Books, vol. xxx.; Hiranyakeçi Grihya, ed. Kirste, Vienna, 1889; trans. Sacred Books, vol. xxx.; Mantrapatha, ed. Winternitz, Oxford, 1897; Manava Grihya, ed. Knauer, Leipsic, 1897; Kauçika Sutra, ed. Bloomfield, New Haven, 1890; Pitrimedha Sutras of Baudhayana, Hiranyakeçin, Gautama, ed. Caland, Leipsic, 1896. Apastamba Dharma Sutra, ed. Bühler, Bombay Sansk. Ser., two parts, 1892 and 1894; Baudhayana Dh. S., ed. Hultzsch, Leipsic, 1884; Gautama Dharma Çastra, ed. Stenzler, London, 1876; Vasishtha Dharma Çastra, ed. Führer, Bombay, 1883; Hiranyakeçi Dharma Sutra, unedited; Vaikhanasa Dharma Sutra, described by Bloch, Vienna, 1896; Apastamba, Gautama, Vasishtha, Baudhayana, trans. by Bühler, Sacred Books, 2nd ed., Oxford, 1897. Rigveda Pratiçakhya, ed. with German trans, by Max Müller, Leipsic, 1856-69; ed. with Uvata's comm., Benares, 1894; Riktantravyakarana (Sama Pr.), ed., trans. Burnell, Mangalore, 1879; Taittiriya Prat., ed. Whitney, Journ. of the Am. Or. Soc., vol. ix., 1871; Vajasaneyi Prat., ed. with comm. of Uvata, Benares Sansk. Series, 1888; Atharvaveda Prat., ed. Whitney, Journal Am. Or. Soc., vols. vii. and x. The Çulva Sutra of Baudhayana, ed. and trans. by Thibaut, in the Pandit, vol. ix.; cf. his article on the Çulvasutras in the Jour. of As. Soc. Bengal, vol. xliv., Calc. 1875. Six Vedangas, Sanskrit text, Bombay, 1892; Yaska's Nirukta, ed. R. Roth, Göttingen, 1852; ed. with comm. by S. Samaçrami (Bibl. Ind.); Sarvanukramani, ed. Macdonell, Oxford, 1886 (together with Anuvakanukramani and Shadguruçishya's comm.); Arshanukramani, Chhandonukramani, Brihaddevata, ed. R. Mitra, 1892 (Bibl. Ind.); Pingala's Chhandah Sutra, ed. in Bibl. Ind., 1874; in Weber's Indische Studien, vol. viii. (which is important as treating of Sanskrit metres in general); Nidana Sutra, partly edited, ibid.; Sarvanukrama Sutras of White Yajurveda, ed. by Weber in his ed. of that Veda; ed. with comm., Benares Sansk. Ser., 1893-94; Charanavyuha, ed. Weber, Ind. Stud., vol. iii. On Madhava see Klemm in Gurupujakaumudi, Leipsic, 1896. CHAPTER X. On the Mahabharata in general, consult especially Holtzmann, Das Mahabharata, 4 vols., Kiel, 1892-95; Bühler, Indian Studies, No. II., Trans. of Imp. Vienna Academy, 1892; cf. also Jacobi in Göttinger Gelehrte Anzeigen, vol. viii. 659 ff.; Winternitz, Journal of the Roy. As. Soc., 1897, p. 713 ff.; Indian Antiquary, vol. xxvii. Editions: 5 vols., Bombay, 1888, Calc. 1894; trans. into Eng. prose at the expense of Pratapa Chandra Ray, Calc., 1896; literal trans. into Eng. by M. N. Dutt, 5 vols., Calc., 1896. Episode of Savitri, ed. Kellner, with introd. and notes, Leipsic, 1888; Nala, text in Bühler's Third Book of Sanskrit, Bombay, 1877; text, notes, vocabulary, Kellner, 1885; text, trans., vocab., Monier-Williams, Oxford, 1876. On the Puranas in general, consult introd. of H. H. Wilson's trans. of the Vishnu P., 5 vols., ed. Fitzedward Hall, 1864-70; Holtzmann, op. cit., vol. iv. pp. 29-58; Garuda P., ed. Bombay, 1888; ed. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1891; Agni, ed. R. Mitra, Bibl. Ind., 1870-79, J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1882; Vayu, ed. R. Mitra, Bibl. Ind., 1888; Bombay, 1895; Matsya, Bombay, 1895; Kurma, Bibl. Ind., 1890; Markandeya, ed. Bibl. Ind., 1855-62; trans. by Pargiter, Bibl. Ind., 1888-99, by C. C. Mukharji, Calc., 1894; Padma, ed. V. N. Mandlik, 4 vols., Anand. Ser., 1894; Vishnu, ed. with comm., Bombay, 1887; five parts, Calc., 1888; prose trans. by M. N. Dutt., Calc., 1894; Wilson, op. cit.; Bhagavata, ed. with three comm., 3 vols., Bombay, 1887; 2 vols., Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1894; ed. and trans. by Burnouf, 4 vols., Paris, 1840-47, 1884; Brahma, ed. Anand. Ser., 1895; Varaha, Bibl. Ind., 1887-93. On the Ramayana in general, consult Jacobi, Das Ramayana Bonn, 1893; also Journal of the Germ. Or Soc., vol. xlviii. p. 407 ff., vol. li. p. 605 ff.; Ludwig, Ueber das Ramayana, Prag, 1894; Baumgartner, Das Ramayana, Freiburg i B., 1894; Bombay recension, ed. Gorresio, Turin, 1843-67; with three comm., 3 vols., Bombay, 1895; Bengal recension, Calc., 1859-60; trans. by Griffith into Eng. verse, Benares, 1895; into Eng. prose, M. N. Dutt, Calc., 1894. CHAPTER XI. On the age of Kavya poetry consult especially Bühler, Die indischen Inschriften und das Alter der indischen Kunstpoesie, in Trans. of the Imp. Vienna Academy, Vienna, 1890; Fleet, Corpus Inscr. Ind., vol. iii., Calcutta, 1888. On the Vikrama era see Kielhorn, Göttinger Nachrichten, 1891, pp. 179-182, and on the Malava era, Ind. Ant., xix. p. 316; on the chronology of Kalidasa, Huth, Die Zeit des Kalidasa, Berlin, 1890. Buddha-charita, ed. Cowell, Oxford, 1893; trans. by Cowell, Sacred Books, vol. xlix. Raghuvamça, ed. Stenzler, with Latin trans., London, 1832; ed. with Mallinatha's comm., by S. P. Pandit, Bombay Sansk. Ser.; text with Eng. trans. by Jvalaprasad, Bombay, 1895; ed. K. P. Parab, with Mallinatha, Nirnaya Sagara Pr., Bombay, 1892; i.-vii., with Eng. trans., notes, comm. of Mallinatha, and extracts from comm. of Bhatta Hemadri, Charitravardhana, Vallabha, by G. R. Nangargika, Poona, 1896. Kumara-sambhava, ed. with Latin trans. by Stenzler, London, 1838; cantos i.-vi., ed. with Eng. trans. and comm. of Mallinatha, by S. G. Despande, Poona, 1887; second part, with full comm., ed. by J. Vidyasagara, 4th ed., Calc., 1887; ed. with comm. of Mallinatha (i.-vii.) and of Sitaram (viii.-xvii.), 3rd ed., Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1893; ed. with three commentaries, Bombay, 1898; trans. by Griffith, London, 1879. Bhattikavya, ed. Calc., 1628; cantos i.-v., with comm. of Jayamangala, English trans., notes, glossary, by M. R. Kale, Bombay, 1897; with comm. of Mallinatha and notes by K. P. Trivedi, Bombay Sansk. Ser., 2 vols., 1898; German trans. of xviii.-xxii., by Schütz, Bielefeld, 1837. Kiratarjuniya, ed. by J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1875; with Mallinatha's comm., Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1885; cantos i.-ii., trans. by Schütz, Bielefeld, 1843. Çiçupalavadha, ed. with Mallinatha's comm., by Vidyasagara, 1884; also at Benares, 1883; German trans. by Schütz, cantos i.-ix., Bielefeld, 1843. Naishadhiya-charita, ed. with comm. of Narayana, by Pandit Sivadatta, Bombay, 1894. Nalodaya, ed. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1873; German trans. by Shack, in Stimmen vom Ganges, 2nd ed., 1877; Raghavapandaviya, ed. with comm. in the Kavyamala, No. 62. Dhanamjaya's Raghavapandaviya, quoted in Ganaratnamahodadhi, A.D. 1140, is an imitation of Kaviraja's work: cf. Zachariæ in Bühler's Encyclopædia, pp. 27-28. For a modern Sanskrit drama constructed on a similar principle see Scherman's Orientalische Bibliographie, vol. ix., 1896, p. 258, No. 4605. Haravijaya, ed. in Kavyamala, 1890; see Bühler, Detailed Report, p. 43, Bombay, 1877. Navasahasankacharita, ed. Bombay Sansk. Series, 1895; see Bühler and Zachariæ in Trans. of Vienna Acad., 1888. Setubandha (in the Maharashtri dialect), ed. with trans. by S. Goldschmidt, 1884; ed. in Kavyamala, No. 47, Bombay, 1895. Vasavadatta, ed. with introd. by Fitzedward Hall, Bibl. Ind., 1859; ed. with comm. by J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1874. Kadambari, ed. P. Peterson, Bomb. Sansk. Ser., 1889; ed. with comm. in Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1896; with comm. and notes by M. R. Kale, Poona, 1896; trans., with occasional omissions, by C. M. Ridding, Royal As. Soc, London, 1896. Harshacharita, ed. by J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1883; ed. with comm., Jammu, 1879; Bombay, 1892; trans. by Cowell and Thomas, Roy. As. Soc. London, 1897. Daçakumara-charita, Part i., ed. Bühler, Bomb. Sansk. Ser., 2nd ed., 1888; Part ii., P. Peterson, ibid., 1891; ed. P. Banerji, Calc., 1888. CHAPTER XII. Meghaduta, ed. with vocab. by Stenzler, Breslau, 1874; with comm. of Mallinatha, Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1894; ed. by K. B. Pathak, Poona, 1894. Eng. verse trans, by Wilson, 3rd ed., London, 1867; by T. Clark, London, 1882; into German by Max Müller, Königsberg, 1847, by Schütz, Bielefield, 1859, Fritze, Chemnitz, 1879. Ritusamhara, ed. with Latin and German trans. by P. v. Bohlen, Leipsic, 1840; with notes and Eng. trans. by Sitaram Ayyar, Bombay, 1897. Ghatakarpara, ed. Brockhaus, 1841, trans. into German by Höfer (in Indische Gedichte, vol. ii.). Chaurapanchaçika, ed. and trans. into German by Solf, Kiel, 1886; trans. by Edwin Arnold, London, 1896. Bhartrihari's Centuries, ed. with comm., Bombay, 1884, trans. into Eng. verse by Tawney, Calc., 1877; Çringara-çataka, ed. Calc. 1888. Çringaratilaka, ed. Gildemeister, Bonn, 1841. Amaruçataka, ed. R. Simon, Kiel, 1893. Saptaçataka of Hala, ed. with prose German trans. by Weber, Leipsic, 1881 (in Abhandlungen für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, vol. viii., No. 4). Mayura's Surya-çataka, or Hundred Stanzas in praise of the Sun, ed. in Kavyamala, 1889. Gitagovinda, ed. J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1882; Bombay, Nir. Sag. Pr., 1899; trans. into German by Rückert, vol. i. of Abhandlungen für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, Leipsic. CHAPTER XIII. On the Sanskrit drama in general, consult especially H. H. Wilson, Select Specimens of the Theatre of the Hindus, 2 vols., 3rd ed., London, 1871; Sylvain Lévi, Le Théâtre Indien, Paris, 1890. Çakuntala, Bengal recension, ed. by Pischel, Kiel, 1877; Devanagari recension, Monier-Williams, 2nd ed., Oxford, 1876; M. R. Kale, Bombay, 1898; trans. by Monier-Williams, 6th ed., London, 1894; into German by Rückert, Leipsic, 1876; Fritze, 1876; Lobedanz, 7th ed., Leipsic, 1884; there are also a South Indian and a Kashmir recension (cf. Bühler, Report, p. lxxxv). Vikramorvaçi, ed. S. P. Pandit, Bombay, 1879; Vaidya, 1895; South Indian recension, ed. Pischel, 1875; trans. Wilson, op. cit.; Cowell, Hertford, 1851; Fritze, Leipsic, 1880. Malavikagnimitra, ed. Bollensen, Leipsic, 1879; S. P. Pandit, Bombay, 1869, S. S. Ayyar, Poona, 1896; trans. by Tawney, 2nd ed., Calc., 1891; into German by Weber, Berlin, 1856; Fritze, Leipsic, 1881. Mricchakatika, ed. Stenzler, Bonn, 1847; J. Vidyasagara, 2nd ed., Calc., 1891; trans. by Wilson, op. cit.; into German by Böhtlingk, St. Petersburg, 1877; by Fritze, Chemnitz, 1879. Ratnavali, ed. Cappeller, in Bohtlingk's Sanskrit-Chrestomathie, 1897; with comm. Nir. Sag. Pr., Bombay, 1895; trans. by Wilson, op. cit.; into German by Fritze, Chemnitz, 1878. Nagananda, ed. J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1873; ed. Poona, 1893; trans. by Palmer Boyd, with preface by Cowell, London, 1872. Bana's Parvatiparinaya, ed. with trans. by T. R. R. Aiyar, Kumbakonam, 1898; Germ. by Glaser, Trieste, 1886. Malatimadhava, ed. R. G. Bhandarkar, Bombay, 1876; trans. by Wilson, op. cit.; by Fritze, Leipsic, 1884. Mahavira-charita, ed. Trithen, London, 1848; K. P. Parab, Bombay, 1892; trans. by J. Pickford, London, 1871. Uttararamacharita, ed. with comm. and trans., Nagpur, 1895; ed. with comm. by Aiyar and Parab, Nirnaya Sagara Press, 1899; trans. by Wilson, op. cit. Mudrarakshasa, ed. Telang, Bombay, 1893; trans. by Wilson, op. cit.; into German by Fritze, Leipsic, 1887. Venisamhara, ed. K. P. Parab, Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, 1898; N. B. Godabale, Poona, 1895; Grill, Leipsic, 1871; trans. into English by S. M. Tagore, Calc., 1880. Viddhaçalabhanjika, ed. J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1883. Karpuramanjari, ed. in vol. vii. of The Pandit, Benares. Balaramayana, ed. Govinda Deva Çastri, Benares, 1869; J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1884. Prachandapandava, ed. Cappeller, Strasburg, 1885. (On Rajaçekhara, cf. Kielhorn, Epigr. Ind., part iv. 1889; Fleet in Ind. Antiq., vol. xvi. pp. 175-178; Jacobi in Vienna Or. Journal, vol. ii. pp. 212-216). Chandakauçika, ed. J. Vidyasagara, Calcutta, 1884; trans. by Fritze (Kauçika's Zorn). Prabodhachandrodaya, ed. Nir. Sag. Pr., Bombay, 1898; trans. into German by Goldstücker, with preface by Rosenkranz, Königsberg, 1842; also trans. by Hirzel, Zürich, 1846; Taylor, Bombay, 1886. CHAPTER XIV. Panchatantra, ed. Kosegarten, Bonn, 1848; by Kielhorn and Bühler in Bomb. Sansk. Ser.; these two editions represent two considerably divergent recensions; trans. with very valuable introd. by Benfey, 2 vols., Leipsic, 1859; English trans., Trichinopoli, 1887; German by Fritze, Leipsic, 1884. The abstract of the Panchatantra in Kshemendra's Brihatkathamanjari, introd., text, trans., notes, by Mankowski, Leipsic, 1892. Hitopadeça, ed. F. Johnson, London, 1884; P. Peterson in Bomb. Sansk. Ser. Kamandakiya Nitisara, ed. with trans. and notes, Madras, 1895; text ed. by R. Mitra, Bibl. Ind. Calc., 1884. Çivadasa's Vetalapanchavimçatika, ed. H. Uhle (in Abhandlungen der deutschen morgenl. Gesell. vol. viii., No. 1), Leipsic, 1881. Sir R. F. Burton, Vikram and the Vampire, new ed., London, 1893. Simhasana-dvatrimçika, ed. (Dwatringshat puttalika), J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1881. Çukasaptati, ed. R. Schmidt, Leipsic, 1893 (Abh. f. d. Kunde d. Morgenlandes), Munich, 1898; trans., Kiel, 1894; Stuttgart, 1898. Kathasaritsagara, ed. trans. by Brockhaus, Leipsic (Books i.-v.) 1839, (vi.-xviii.) 1862-66; ed. Bomb., 1889; trans. by Tawney in Bibl. Ind., 1880-87. Brihatkathamanjari, chaps. i.-viii., ed. and trans. by Sylvain Lévi in Journal Asiatique, 1886. Jataka-mala, ed. Kern, Boston, 1891; trans. by Speijer in Sacred Books of the Buddhists, vol. i., London, 1895. Kathakoça, trans. by C. H. Tawney from Sanskrit MSS., Royal As. Soc., London, 1895. Pali Jatakas, ed. by Fausböll, London, (completed) 1897; three vols. of trans. under supervision of Cowell have appeared, I. by Chalmers, Cambridge, 1895; II. by Rouse, 1895; III. by Francis and Neil, 1897. Warren, Buddhism in Translations, Harvard, 1896. Bhartrihari's Niti and Vairagya Çatakas, ed. and trans., Bombay, 1898 (on Bhartrihari and Kumarila see Pathak in Journ. of Bombay Branch of Roy. As. Soc., xviii. pp. 213-238). Mohamudgara, trans. by U. K. Banerjï, Bhawanipur, Bengal, 1892. Chanakya Çatakas, ed. Klatt, 1873. On the Nitimanjari cf. Kielhorn, Göttinger Nachrichten, 1891, pp. 182-186; A. B. Keith, Journ. Roy. As. Soc. 1900. Çarngadhara-paddhati, ed. Peterson, Bombay, 1888. Subhashitavali, ed. Peterson and Durgaprasada, Bombay, 1886. Böhtlingk's Indische Sprüche, 2nd edition, 2 vols., St. Petersburg, 1870-73; index by Blau, Leipsic, 1893. Dhammapada, trans. by Max Müller in Sacred Books of the East, vol. x., 2nd revised edition, Oxford, 1898. CHAPTER XV. On Indian philosophy in general see Garbe's useful little book, Philosophy of Ancient India, Chicago, 1897; F. Max Müller, Six Systems of Indian Philosophy, London, 1899. Garbe, Sankhya Philosophie, Leipsic, 1894; Sankhya und Yoga in Bühler's Encyclopædia, Strasburg, 1896 (complete bibliography); Sankhya-karika, text with comm. of Gaudapada, ed. and trans. by Colebrooke and Wilson, Oxford, 1837, reprinted Bombay, 1887; ed. in Benares Sansk. Ser., 1883; trans. Ballantyne (Bibl. Ind.); Sankhyapravachana-bhashya, ed. by Garbe, Harvard, 1895, trans. into German, Leipsic, 1889; Aniruddha's comm. on Sankhya Sutras, trans. by Garbe, Bibl. Ind., Calc., 1888-92; Sankhya-tattva-kaumudi, ed. with Eng. trans., Bombay, 1896, trans. by Garbe, Munich, 1892; Çankara's Rajayogabhashya, trans. Madras, 1896; Svatmarama's Hathayogapradipa, trans. by Walther, Munich, 1893; Hathayoga Gheranda Sanhita, trans. Bombay, 1895. On fragments of Panchaçikha cf. Garbe in Festgruss an Roth, p. 74 ff., Stuttgart, 1893; Jacobi on Sankhya-Yoga as foundation of Buddhism, Journ. of Germ. Or. Soc., 1898, pp. 1-15; Oldenberg, Buddha, 3rd ed. Mimamsa-darçana, ed. with comm. of Çabara Svamin (Bibl. Ind.), Calc., 1887; Tantravarttika, ed. Benares, 1890; Çlokavarttika, fasc. i., ii., ed. with comm., Benares, 1898; Jaiminiya-nyaya-mala-vistara, ed. in Anand. Ser. 1892. Arthasamgraha, as introd. to Mimamsa, ed. and trans. by Thibaut, Benares, 1882. Most important book on Vedanta: Deussen, System des Vedanta, Leipsic, 1883; Deussen, Die Sutra's des Vedanta, text with trans. of Sutras and complete comm. of Çankara, Leipsic, 1887. Brahma Sutras, with Çankara's comm., ed. in Anand. Ser., 1890-91; Vedanta Sutras, trans. by Thibaut in Sacred Books, vol. xxxiv., Oxford, 1890, and xxxviii., 1896. Panchadaçi, ed. with Eng. trans., Bombay, 1895. On date of Çankara cf. Fleet in Ind. Ant., xvi. 41-42. Vedanta-siddhanta-muktavali, ed. with Eng. trans. by Venis, Benares, 1890. Vedantasara, ed. Jacob, with comm. and notes, Bombay, 1894, trans. 3rd ed., London, 1892. Bhagavadgita with Çankara's comm., Anand. Ser., 1897, trans. in Sacred Books, vol. viii., 2nd ed., Oxford, 1898; by Davies, 3rd ed., 1894. Nyaya Sutras in Vizianagram Sansk. Ser., vol. ix., Benares, 1896. Nyayakandali of Çridhara, ibid., vol. iv., 1895. Nyaya-kusumanjali (Bibl. Ind.), Calc., 1895. Vaiçeshika-darçana, ed. with comm., Calc., 1887. Saptapadarthi, ed. with comm., Benares, 1893; text with Latin trans. by Winter, Leipsic, 1893. Tarkasamgraha, ed. J. Vidyasagara, Calc., 1897; ed. with comm., Bombay Sansk. Ser., 1897; text and trans. by Ballantyne, Allahabad, 1850. Sarvadarçana-samgraha, ed. by T. Tarkavachaspati, Calc., 1872; trans. by Cowell and Gough, 2nd ed., London, 1894. CHAPTER XVI. M'Crindle, Ancient India as Described by Classical Authors, 5 vols., especially vol. v., Invasion of India by Alexander, London, 1896. Weber, Die Griechen in Indien, in Transactions (Sitzungsberichte) of the Roy. Prussian Acad., Berlin, 1890. Sylvain Lévi, Quid de Græcis veterum Indorum monumenta tradiderint, Paris, 1890; also La Grèce et l'Inde (in Revue des Etudes Grecques), Paris, 1891. Goblet d'Alviella, Ce que l'Inde doit à la Grèce, Paris, 1897; also Les Grecs dans l'Inde, and Des Influences Classiques dans la Culture Scientifique et Littéraire de l'Inde, in vols. xxxiii., xxxiv. (1897) of Bulletin de l'Académie Royale de Belgique. L. de la Vallée Poussin, La Grèce et l'Inde, in Musée Belge, vol. ii. pp. 126-152. Vincent A. Smith, Græco-Roman Influence on the Civilisation of Ancient India in Journal of As. Soc. of Bengal, 1889-92. O. Franke, Beziehungen der Inder zum Westen, Journ. of Germ. Or. Soc., 1893, pp. 595-609. M. A. Stein in Indian Antiquary, vol. xvii. p. 89. On foreign elements in Indian art see Cunningham, Archæological Survey of India, vol. v. pp. 185 ff.; Grünwedel, Buddhistische Kunst, Berlin, 1893; E. Curtius, Griechische Kunst in Indien, pp. 235-243 in vol. ii. of Gesammelte Abhandlungen, Berlin, 1894; W. Simpson, The Classical Influence in the Architecture of the Indus Region and Afghanistan, in the Journal of the Royal Institution of British Architects, vol. i. (1894), pp. 93-115. P. 413: On the Çakas and Kushanas, see Rapson, Indian Coins, pp. 7 and 16, in Bühler's Encyclopædia, Strasburg, 1898. On the relation of Indian to Greek fables, cf. Weber in Indische Studien, vol. iii. p. 327 ff. Through the medium of Indian fables and fairy tales, which were so popular in the Middle Ages, the magic mirror and ointment, the seven-league boots, the invisible cap, and the purse of Fortunatus (cf. Burnell, Samavidhana Brahmana, preface, p. xxxv), found their way into Western literature. For possible Greek influence on Indian drama, cf. Windisch, in Trans. of the Fifth Oriental Congress, part ii., Berlin, 1882. On chess in Sanskrit literature, cf. Macdonell, Origin and Early History of Chess, in Journ. Roy. As. Soc., 1898. On Indian influence on Greek philosophy, cf. Garbe in Sankhya und Yoga, p. 4. L. von Schroeder, Buddhismus und Christenthum, Reval, 2nd ed., 1898. P. 422-23: It seems quite possible to account for the ideas of the Neo-Platonists from purely Hellenic sources, without assuming Indian influence. On the relation of Çakuntala to Schiller (Alpenjäger) and Goethe (Faust), cf. Sauer, in Korrespondenzblatt für die Gelehrten und Realschulen Württembergs, vol. xl. pp. 297-304; W. von Biedermann, Goetheforschungen, Frankfurt a/M., 1879, pp. 54 ff. (Çakuntala and Faust). On Sanskrit literature and modern poets (Heine, Matthew Arnold), cf. Max Müller, Coincidences, in the Fortnightly Review, New Series, vol. lxiv. (July 1898), pp. 157-162. NOTES [1] vii. 59, 12; x. 20, 1; 121, 10; 190, 1-3. [2] The other three systems are: (1) that of the Maitrayani and Kathaka Samhitas (two recensions of the Black Yajurveda), which mark the acute with a vertical stroke above; (2) that of the Çatapatha Brahmana, which marks the acute with a horizontal stroke below; and (3) that of the Samaveda, which indicates the three accents with the numerals 1, 2, 3, to distinguish three degrees of pitch, the acute (1) here being the highest. [3] In verse 10, which is a late addition; see p. 51, footnote. [4] A reference to dropsy, with which Varuna is thought to afflict sinners. [5] The sun is probably meant. [6] The component parts of this name are in Sanskrit pancha, five, and ap, water. [7] From the Sanskrit dakshina, south, literally "right," because the Indians faced the rising sun when naming the cardinal points. [8] German, vieh; Latin, pecus, from which pecunia, "money." [9] The word "frolic" alludes to the assembly-house (sabha) being a place of social entertainment, especially of gambling. [10] Na nonanunno nunnono nana nananana nanu Nunno 'nunno nanunneno nanena nunnanunnanut. [11] Devakanini kavade, &c. [12] Referring to the poetical belief that the açoka only blossoms when struck by the foot of a beautiful girl. [13] E.g. amala-kamala-dala-lochana bhava-mochana. [14] It is interesting to note that two Sanskrit plays, composed in the twelfth century, and not as yet known in manuscript form, have been partially preserved in inscriptions found at Ajmere (see Kielhorn, in Appendix to Epigraphia Indica, vol. v. p. 20, No. 134. Calcutta, 1899). 
7971	----	THE FUGITIVE BY RABINDRANATH TAGORE TO W.W. PEARSON CONTENTS THE FUGITIVE--I. KACHA AND DEVAYANI TRANSLATIONS THE FUGITIVE--II. AMA AND VINAYAKA THE MOTHER'S PRAYER TRANSLATIONS THE FUGITIVE--III. SOMAKA AND RITVIK KARNA AND KUNTI TRANSLATIONS 1 Darkly you sweep on, Eternal Fugitive, round whose bodiless rush stagnant space frets into eddying bubbles of light. Is your heart lost to the Lover calling you across his immeasurable loneliness? Is the aching urgency of your haste the sole reason why your tangled tresses break into stormy riot and pearls of fire roll along your path as from a broken necklace? Your fleeting steps kiss the dust of this world into sweetness, sweeping aside all waste; the storm centred with your dancing limbs shakes the sacred shower of death over life and freshens her growth. Should you in sudden weariness stop for a moment, the world would rumble into a heap, an encumbrance, barring its own progress, and even the least speck of dust would pierce the sky throughout its infinity with an unbearable pressure. My thoughts are quickened by this rhythm of unseen feet round which the anklets of light are shaken. They echo in the pulse of my heart, and through my blood surges the psalm of the ancient sea. I hear the thundering flood tumbling my life from world to world and form to form, scattering my being in an endless spray of gifts, in sorrowings and songs. The tide runs high, the wind blows, the boat dances like thine own desire, my heart! Leave the hoard on the shore and sail over the unfathomed dark towards limitless light. 2 We came hither together, friend, and now at the cross-roads I stop to bid you farewell. Your path is wide and straight before you, but my call comes up by ways from the unknown. I shall follow wind and cloud; I shall follow the stars to where day breaks behind the hills; I shall follow lovers who, as they walk, twine their days into a wreath on a single thread of song, "I love." 3 It was growing dark when I asked her, "What strange land have I come to?" She only lowered her eyes, and the water gurgled in the throat of her jar, as she walked away. The trees hang vaguely over the bank, and the land appears as though it already belonged to the past. The water is dumb, the bamboos are darkly still, a wristlet tinkles against the water-jar from down the lane. Row no more, but fasten the boat to this tree,--for I love the look of this land. The evening star goes down behind the temple dome, and the pallor of the marble landing haunts the dark water. Belated wayfarers sigh; for light from hidden windows is splintered into the darkness by intervening wayside trees and bushes. Still that wristlet tinkles against the water-jar, and retreating steps rustle from down the lane littered with leaves. The night deepens, the palace towers loom spectre-like, and the town hums wearily. Row no more, but fasten the boat to a tree. Let me seek rest in this strange land, dimly lying under the stars, where darkness tingles with the tinkle of a wristlet knocking against a water-jar. 4 O that I were stored with a secret, like unshed rain in summer clouds--a secret, folded up in silence, that I could wander away with. O that I had some one to whisper to, where slow waters lap under trees that doze in the sun. The hush this evening seems to expect a footfall, and you ask me for the cause of my tears. I cannot give a reason why I weep, for that is a secret still withheld from me. 5 For once be careless, timid traveller, and utterly lose your way; wide-awake though you are, be like broad daylight enticed by and netted in mist. Do not shun the garden of Lost Hearts waiting at the end of the wrong road, where the grass is strewn with wrecked red flowers, and disconsolate water heaves in the troubled sea. Long have you watched over the store gathered by weary years. Let it be stripped, with nothing remaining but the desolate triumph of losing all. 6 Two little bare feet flit over the ground, and seem to embody that metaphor, "Flowers are the footprints of summer." They lightly impress on the dust the chronicle of their adventure, to be erased by a passing breeze. Come, stray into my heart, you tender little feet, and leave the everlasting print of songs on my dreamland path. 7 I am like the night to you, little flower. I can only give you peace and a wakeful silence hidden in the dark. When in the morning you open your eyes, I shall leave you to a world a-hum with bees, and songful with birds. My last gift to you will be a tear dropped into the depth of your youth; it will make your smile all the sweeter, and bemist your outlook on the pitiless mirth of day. 8 Do not stand before my window with those hungry eyes and beg for my secret. It is but a tiny stone of glistening pain streaked with blood-red by passion. What gifts have you brought in both hands to fling before me in the dust? I fear, if I accept, to create a debt that can never be paid even by the loss of all I have. Do not stand before my window with your youth and flowers to shame my destitute life. 9 If I were living in the royal town of Ujjain, when Kalidas was the king's poet, I should know some Malwa girl and fill my thoughts with the music of her name. She would glance at me through the slanting shadow of her eyelids, and allow her veil to catch in the jasmine as an excuse for lingering near me. This very thing happened in some past whose track is lost under time's dead leaves. The scholars fight to-day about dates that play hide-and-seek. I do not break my heart dreaming over flown and vanished ages: but alas and alas again, that those Malwa girls have followed them! To what heaven, I wonder, have they carried in their flower-baskets those days that tingled to the lyrics of the king's poet? This morning, separation from those whom I was born too late to meet weighs on and saddens my heart. Yet April carries the same flowers with which they decked their hair, and the same south breeze fluttered their veils as whispers over modern roses. And, to tell the truth, joys are not lacking to this spring, though Kalidas sing no more; and I know, if he can watch me from the Poets' Paradise, he has reasons to be envious. 10 Be not concerned about her heart, my heart: leave it in the dark. What if her beauty be of the figure and her smile merely of the face? Let me take without question the simple meaning of her glances and be happy. I care not if it be a web of delusion that her arms wind about me, for the web itself is rich and rare, and the deceit can be smiled at and forgotten. Be not concerned about her heart, my heart: be content if the music is true, though the words are not to be believed; enjoy the grace that dances like a lily on the rippling, deceiving surface, whatever may lie beneath. 11 Neither mother nor daughter are you, nor bride, Urvashi.[1] Woman you are, to ravish the soul of Paradise. [Footnote 1: The dancing girl of Paradise who rose from the sea.] When weary-footed evening comes down to the folds whither the cattle have returned, you never trim the house lamps nor walk to the bridal bed with a tremulous heart and a wavering smile on your lips, glad that the dark hours are so secret. Like the dawn you are without veil, Urvashi, and without shame. Who can imagine that aching overflow of splendour which created you! You rose from the churned ocean on the first day of the first spring, with the cup of life in your right hand and poison in your left. The monster sea, lulled like an enchanted snake, laid down its thousand hoods at your feet. Your unblemished radiance rose from the foam, white and naked as a jasmine. Were you ever small, timid or in bud, Urvashi, O Youth everlasting? Did you sleep, cradled in the deep blue night where the strange light of gems plays over coral, shells and moving creatures of dreamlike form, till day revealed your awful fulness of bloom? Adored are you of all men in all ages, Urvashi, O endless wonder! The world throbs with youthful pain at the glance of your eyes, the ascetic lays the fruit of his austerities at your feet, the songs of poets hum and swarm round the perfume of your presence. Your feet, as in careless joy they flit on, wound even the heart of the hollow wind with the tinkle of golden bells. When you dance before the gods, flinging orbits of novel rhythm into space, Urvashi, the earth shivers, leaf and grass, and autumn fields heave and sway; the sea surges into a frenzy of rhyming waves; the stars drop into the sky--beads from the chain that leaps till it breaks on your breast; and the blood dances in men's hearts with sudden turmoil. You are the first break on the crest of heaven's slumber, Urvashi, you thrill the air with unrest. The world bathes your limbs in her tears; with colour of her heart's blood are your feet red; lightly you poise on the wave-tossed lotus of desire, Urvashi; you play forever in that limitless mind wherein labours God's tumultuous dream. 12 You, like a rivulet swift and sinuous, laugh and dance, and your steps sing as you trip along. I, like a bank rugged and steep, stand speechless and stock-still and darkly gaze at you. I, like a big, foolish storm, of a sudden come rushing on and try to rend my being and scatter it parcelled in a whirl of passion. You, like the lightning's flash slender and keen, pierce the heart of the turbulent darkness, to disappear in a vivid streak of laughter. 13 You desired my love and yet you did not love me. Therefore my life clings to you like a chain of which clank and grip grow harsher the more you struggle to be free. My despair has become your deadly companion, clutching at the faintest of your favours, trying to drag you away into the cavern of tears. You have shattered my freedom, and with its wreck built your own prison. 14 I am glad you will not wait for me with that lingering pity in your look. It is only the spell of the night and my farewell words, startled at their own tune of despair, which bring these tears to my eyes. But day will dawn, my eyes will dry and my heart; and there will be no time for weeping. Who says it is hard to forget? The mercy of death works at life's core, bringing it respite from its own foolish persistence. The stormy sea is lulled at last in its rocking cradle; the forest fire falls to sleep on its bed of ashes. You and I shall part, and the cleavage will be hidden under living grass and flowers that laugh in the sun. 15 Of all days you have chosen this one to visit my garden. But the storm passed over my roses last night and the grass is strewn with torn leaves. I do not know what has brought you, now that the hedges are laid low and rills run in the walks; the prodigal wealth of spring is scattered and the scent and song of yesterday are wrecked. Yet stay a while; let me find some remnant flowers, though I doubt if your skirt can be filled. The time will be short, for the clouds thicken and here comes the rain again! 16 I forgot myself for a moment, and I came. But raise your eyes, and let me know if there still linger some shadow of other days, like a pale cloud on the horizon that has been robbed of its rain. For a moment bear with me if I forget myself. The roses are still in bud; they do not yet know how we neglect to gather flowers this summer. The morning star has the same palpitating hush; the early light is enmeshed in the branches that overbrow your window, as in those other days. That times are changed I forget for a little, and have come. I forget if you ever shamed me by looking away when I bared my heart. I only remember the words that stranded on the tremor of your lips; I remember in your dark eyes sweeping shadows of passion, like the wings of a home-seeking bird in the dusk. I forget that you do not remember, and I come. 17 The rain fell fast. The river rushed and hissed. It licked up and swallowed the island, while I waited alone on the lessening bank with my sheaves of corn in a heap. From the shadows of the opposite shore the boat crosses with a woman at the helm. I cry to her, "Come to my island coiled round with hungry water, and take away my year's harvest." She comes, and takes all that I have to the last grain; I ask her to take me. But she says, "No"--the boat is laden with my gift and no room is left for me. 18 The evening beckons, and I would fain follow the travellers who sailed in the last ferry of the ebb-tide to cross the dark. Some were for home, some for the farther shore, yet all have ventured to sail. But I sit alone at the landing, having left my home and missed the boat: summer is gone and my winter harvest is lost. I wait for that love which gathers failures to sow them in tears on the dark, that they may bear fruit when day rises anew. 19 On this side of the water there is no landing; the girls do not come here to fetch water; the land along its edge is shaggy with stunted shrubs; a noisy flock of _saliks_ dig their nests in the steep bank under whose frown the fisher-boats find no shelter. You sit there on the unfrequented grass, and the morning wears on. Tell me what you do on this bank so dry that it is agape with cracks? She looks in my face and says, "Nothing, nothing whatsoever." On this side of the river the bank is deserted, and no cattle come to water. Only some stray goats from the village browse the scanty grass all day, and the solitary water-hawk watches from an uprooted _peepal_ aslant over the mud. You sit there alone in the miserly shade of a _shimool,_ and the morning wears on. Tell me, for whom do you wait? She looks in my face and says, "No one, no one at all!" 20 KACHA AND DEVAYANI KACHA AND DEVAYANI _Young Kacha came from Paradise to learn the secret of immortality from a Sage who taught the Titans, and whose daughter Devayani fell in love with him._ KACHA The time has come for me to take leave, Devayani; I have long sat at your father's feet, but to-day he completed his teaching. Graciously allow me to go back to the land of the Gods whence I came. DEVAYANI You have, as you desired, won that rare knowledge coveted by the Gods;--but think, do you aspire after nothing further? KACHA Nothing. DEVAYANI Nothing at all! Dive into the bottom of your heart; does no timid wish lurk there, fearful lest it be blighted? KACHA For me the sun of fulfilment has risen, and the stars have faded in its light. I have mastered the knowledge which gives life. DEVAYANI Then you must be the one happy being in creation. Alas! now for the first time I feel what torture these days spent in an alien land have been to you, though we offered you our best. KACHA Not so much bitterness! Smile, and give me leave to go. DEVAYANI Smile! But, my friend, this is not your native Paradise. Smiles are not so cheap in this world, where thirst, like a worm in the flower, gnaws at the heart's core; where baffled desire hovers round the desired, and memory never ceases to sigh foolishly after vanished joy. KACHA Devayani, tell me how I have offended? DEVAYANI Is it so easy for you to leave this forest, which through long years has lavished on you shade and song? Do you not feel how the wind wails through these glimmering shadows, and dry leaves whirl in the air, like ghosts of lost hope;--while you alone, who part from us, have a smile on your lips? KACHA This forest has been a second mother to me, for here I have been born again. My love for it shall never dwindle. DEVAYANI When you had driven the cattle to graze on the lawn, yonder banyan tree spread a hospitable shade for your tired limbs against the mid-day heat. KACHA I bow to thee, Lord of the Forest! Remember me, when under thy shade other students chant their lessons to an accompaniment of bees humming and leaves rustling. DEVAYANI And do not forget our Venumati, whose swift water is one stream of singing love. KACHA I shall ever remember her, the dear companion of my exile, who, like a busy village girl, smiles on her errand of ceaseless service and croons a simple song. DEVAYANI But, friend, let me also remind you that you had another companion whose thoughts were vainly busy to make you forget an exile's cares. KACHA The memory of her has become a part of my life. DEVAYANI I recall the day when, little more than a boy, you first arrived. You stood there, near the hedge of the garden, a smile in your eyes. KACHA And I saw you gathering flowers--clad in white, like the dawn bathed in radiance. And I said, "Make me proud by allowing me to help you!" DEVAYANI I asked in surprise who you were, and you meekly answered that you were the son of Vrihaspati, a divine sage at the court of the God Indra, and desired to learn from my father that secret spell which can revive the dead. KACHA I feared lest the Master, the teacher of the Titans, those rivals of the Gods, should refuse to accept me for a disciple. DEVAYANI But he could not refuse me when I pleaded your cause, so greatly he loves his daughter. KACHA Thrice had the jealous Titans slain me, and thrice you prevailed on your father to bring me back to life; therefore my gratitude can never die. DEVAYANI Gratitude! Forget all--I shall not grieve. Do you only remember benefits? Let them perish! If after the day's lessons, in the evening solitude, some strange tremor of joy shook your heart, remember that--but not gratitude. If, as some one passed, a snatch of song got tangled among your texts or the swing of a robe fluttered your studies with delight, remember that when at leisure in your Paradise. What, benefits only!--and neither beauty nor love nor...? KACHA Some things are beyond the power of words. DEVAYANI Yes, yes, I know. My love has sounded your heart's deepest, and makes me bold to speak in defiance of your reserve. Never leave me! remain here! fame gives no happiness. Friend, you cannot now escape, for your secret is mine! KACHA No, no, Devayani. DEVAYANI How "No"? Do not lie to me! Love's insight is divine. Day after day, in raising your head, in a glance, in the motion of your hands, your love spoke as the sea speaks through its waves. On a sudden my voice would send your heart quivering through your limbs--have I never witnessed it? I know you, and therefore you are my captive for ever. The very king of your Gods shall not sever this bond. KACHA Was it for this, Devayani, that I toiled, away from home and kindred, all these years? DEVAYANI Why not? Is only knowledge precious? Is love cheap? Lay hold on this moment. Have the courage to own that a woman's heart is worth all as much penance as men undergo for the sake of power, knowledge, or reputation. KACHA I gave my solemn promise to the Gods that I would bring them this lore of deathless life. DEVAYANI But is it true you had eyes for nothing save your books? That you never broke off your studies to pay me homage with flowers, never lay in wait for a chance, of an evening, to help me water my flower-beds? What made you sit by me on the grass and sing songs you brought hither from the assembly of the stars, while darkness stooped over the river bank as love droops over its own sad silence? Were these parts of a cruel conspiracy plotted in your Paradise? Was all for the sake of access to my father's heart?--and after success, were you, departing, to throw some cheap gratitude, like small coins, to the deluded door-keeper? KACHA What profit were there, proud woman, in knowing the truth? If I did wrong to serve you with a passionate devotion cherished in secret, I have had ample punishment. This is no time to question whether my love be true or not; my life's work awaits me. Though my heart must henceforth enclose a red flame vainly striving to devour emptiness, still I must go back to that Paradise which will nevermore be Paradise to me. I owe the Gods a new divinity, hard won by my studies, before I may think of happiness. Forgive me, Devayani, and know that my suffering is doubled by the pain I unwillingly inflict on you. DEVAYANI Forgiveness! You have angered my heart till it is hard and burning like a thunderbolt! You can go back to your work and your glory, but what is left for me? Memory is a bed of thorns, and secret shame will gnaw at the roots of my life. You came like a wayfarer, sat through the sunny hours in the shade of my garden, and to while time away you plucked all its flowers and wove them into a chain. And now, parting, you snap the thread and let the flowers drop on the dust! Accursed be that great knowledge you have earned!--a burden that, though others share equally with you, will never be lightened. For lack of love may it ever remain as foreign to your life as the cold stars are to the un-espoused darkness of virgin Night! 21 I "Why these preparations without end?"--I said to Mind--"Is some one to come?" Mind replied, "I am enormously busy gathering things and building towers. I have no time to answer such questions." Meekly I went back to my work. When things were grown to a pile, when seven wings of his palace were complete, I said to Mind, "Is it not enough?" Mind began to say, "Not enough to contain--" and then stopped. "Contain what?" I asked. Mind affected not to hear. I suspected that Mind did not know, and with ceaseless work smothered the question. His one refrain was, "I must have more." "Why must you?" "Because it is great." "What is great?" Mind remained silent. I pressed for an answer. In contempt and anger, Mind said, "Why ask about things that are not? Take notice of those that are hugely before you,--the struggle and the fight, the army and armaments, the bricks and mortar, and labourers without number." I thought "Possibly Mind is wise." II Days passed. More wings were added to his palace--more lands to his domain. The season of rains came to an end. The dark clouds became white and thin, and in the rain-washed sky the sunny hours hovered like butterflies over an unseen flower. I was bewildered and asked everybody I met, "What is that music in the breeze?" A tramp walked the road whose dress was wild as his manner; he said, "Hark to the music of the Coming!" I cannot tell why I was convinced, but the words broke from me, "We have not much longer to wait." "It is close at hand," said the mad man. I went to the office and boldly said to Mind, "Stop all work!" Mind asked, "Have you any news?" "Yes," I answered, "News of the Coming." But I could not explain. Mind shook his head and said, "There are neither banners nor pageantry!" III The night waned, the stars paled in the sky. Suddenly the touchstone of the morning light tinged everything with gold. A cry spread from mouth to mouth-- "Here is the herald!" I bowed my head and asked, "Is he coming?" The answer seemed to burst from all sides, "Yes." Mind grew troubled and said, "The dome of my building is not yet finished, nothing is in order." A voice came from the sky, "Pull down your building!" "But why?" asked Mind. "Because to-day is the day of the Coming, and your building is in the way." IV The lofty building lies in the dust and all is scattered and broken. Mind looked about. But what was there to see? Only the morning star and the lily washed in dew. And what else? A child running laughing from its mother's arms into the open light. "Was it only for this that they said it was the day of the Coming?" "Yes, this was why they said there was music in the air and light in the sky." "And did they claim all the earth only for this?" "Yes," came the answer. "Mind, you build walls to imprison yourself. Your servants toil to enslave themselves; but the whole earth and infinite space are for the child, for the New Life." "What does that child bring you?" "Hope for all the world and its joy." Mind asked me, "Poet, do you understand?" "I lay my work aside," I said, "for I must have time to understand." 22 TRANSLATIONS VAISHNAVA SONGS 1 Oh Sakhi,[1] my sorrow knows no bounds. [Footnote 1: The woman friend of a woman.] August comes laden with rain clouds and my house is desolate. The stormy sky growls, the earth is flooded with rain, my love is far away, and my heart is torn with anguish. The peacocks dance, for the clouds rumble and frogs croak. The night brims with darkness flicked with lightning. Vidyapati[2] asks, "Maiden, how are you to spend your days and nights without your lord?" [Footnote 2: The name of the poet.] 2 Lucky was my awakening this morning, for I saw my beloved. The sky was one piece of joy, and my life and youth were fulfilled. To-day my house becomes my house in truth, and my body my body. Fortune has proved a friend, and my doubts are dispelled. Birds, sing your best; moon, shed your fairest light! Let fly your darts, Love-God, in millions! I wait for the moment when my body will grow golden at his touch. Vidyapati says, "Immense is your good fortune, and blessed is your love." 3 I feel my body vanishing into the dust whereon my beloved walks. I feel one with the water of the lake where he bathes. Oh Sakhi, my love crosses death's boundary when I meet him. My heart melts in the light and merges in the mirror whereby he views his face. I move with the air to kiss him when he waves his fan, and wherever he wanders I enclose him like the sky. Govindadas says, "You are the gold-setting, fair maiden, he is the emerald." 4 My love, I will keep you hidden in my eyes; I will thread your image like a gem on my joy and hang it on my bosom. You have been in my heart ever since I was a child, throughout my youth, throughout my life, even through all my dreams. You dwell in my being when I sleep and when I wake. Know that I am a woman, and bear with me when you find me wanting. For I have thought and thought and know for certain that all that is left for me in this world is your love, and if I lose you for a moment I die. Chandidas says, "Be tender to her who is yours in life and death." 5 "Fruit to sell, Fruit to sell," cried the woman at the door. The Child came out of the house. "Give me some fruit," said he, putting a handful of rice in her basket. The fruit-seller gazed at his face and her eyes swam with tears. "Who is the fortunate mother," she cried, "that has clasped you in her arms and fed you at her breast, and whom your dear voice called 'Mother'?" "Offer your fruit to him," says the poet, "and with it your life." II 1 Endlessly varied art thou in the exuberant world, Lady of Manifold Magnificence. Thy path is strewn with lights, thy touch thrills into flowers; that trailing skirt of thine sweeps the whirl of a dance among the stars, and thy many-toned music is echoed from innumerable worlds through signs and colours. Single and alone in the unfathomed stillness of the soul, art thou, Lady of Silence and Solitude, a vision thrilled with light, a lonely lotus blossoming on the stem of love. 2 Behind the rusty iron gratings of the opposite window sits a girl, dark and plain of face, like a boat stranded on a sand-bank when the river is shallow in the summer. I come back to my room after my day's work, and my tired eyes are lured to her. She seems to me like a lake with its dark lonely waters edged by moonlight. She has only her window for freedom: there the morning light meets her musings, and through it her dark eyes like lost stars travel back to their sky. 3 I remember the day. The heavy shower of rain is slackening into fitful pauses, renewed gusts of wind startle it from a first lull. I take up my instrument. Idly I touch the strings, till, without my knowing, the music borrows the mad cadence of that storm. I see her figure as she steals from her work, stops at my door, and retreats with hesitating steps. She comes again, stands outside leaning against the wall, then slowly enters the room and sits down. With head bent, she plies her needle in silence; but soon stops her work, and looks out of the window through the rain at the blurred line of trees. Only this--one hour of a rainy noon filled with shadows and song and silence. 4 While stepping into the carriage she turned her head and threw me a swift glance of farewell. This was her last gift to me. But where can I keep it safe from the trampling hours? Must evening sweep this gleam of anguish away, as it will the last flicker of fire from the sunset? Ought it to be washed off by the rain, as treasured pollens are from heart-broken flowers? Leave kingly glory and the wealth of the rich to death. But may not tears keep ever fresh the memory of a glance flung through a passionate moment? "Give it to me to keep," said my song; "I never touch kings' glory or the wealth of the rich, but these small things are mine for ever." 5 You give yourself to me, like a flower that blossoms at night, whose presence is known by the dew that drips from it, by the odour shed through the darkness, as the first steps of Spring are by the buds that thicken the twigs. You break upon my thought like waves at the high tide, and my heart is drowned under surging songs. My heart knew of your coming, as the night feels the approach of dawn. The clouds are aflame and my sky fills with a great revealing flood. 6 I was to go away; still she did not speak. But I felt, from a slight quiver, her yearning arms would say: "Ah no, not yet." I have often heard her pleading hands vocal in a touch, though they knew not what they said. I have known those arms to stammer when, had they not, they would have become youth's garland round my neck. Their little gestures return to remembrance in the covert of still hours, like truants they playfully reveal things she had kept secret from me. 7 My songs are like bees; they follow through the air some fragrant trace--some memory--of you, to hum around your shyness, eager for its hidden store. When the freshness of dawn droops in the sun, when in the noon the air hangs low with heaviness and the forest is silent, my songs return home, their languid wings dusted with gold. 8 I believe you had visited me in a vision before we ever met, like some foretaste of April before the spring broke into flower. That vision must have come when all was bathed in the odour of _sal_ blossom; when the twilight twinkle of the river fringed its yellow sands, and the vague sounds of a summer afternoon were blended; yes, and had it not laughed and evaded me in many a nameless gleam at other moments? 9 I think I shall stop startled if ever we meet after our next birth, walking in the light of a far-away world. I shall know those dark eyes then as morning stars, and yet feel that they have belonged to some unremembered evening sky of a former life. I shall know that the magic of your face is not all its own, but has stolen the passionate light that was in my eyes at some immemorial meeting, and then gathered from my love a mystery that has now forgotten its origin. 10 Lay down your lute, my love, leave your arms free to embrace me. Let your touch bring my overflowing heart to my body's utmost brink. Do not bend your neck and turn away your face, but offer up a kiss to me, which has been like some perfume long closed in a bud. Do not smother this moment under vain words, but let our hearts quake in a rush of silence sweeping all thoughts to the shoreless delight. 11 You have made me great with your love, though I am but one among the many, drifting in the common tide, rocking in the fluctuant favour of the world. You have given me a seat where poets of all time bring their tribute, and lovers with deathless names greet one another across the ages. Men hastily pass me in the market,--never noting how my body has grown precious with your caress, how I carry your kiss within, as the sun carries in its orb the fire of the divine touch and shines for ever. 12 Like a child that frets and pushes away its toys, my heart to-day shakes its head at every phrase I suggest, and says, "No, not this." Yet words, in the agony of their vagueness, haunt my mind, like vagrant clouds hovering over hills, waiting for some chance wind to relieve them of their rain. But leave these vain efforts, my soul, for the stillness will ripen its own music in the dark. My life to-day is like a cloister during some penance, where the spring is afraid to stir or to whisper. This is not the time, my love, for you to pass the gate; at the mere thought of your anklet bells tinkling down the path, the garden echoes are ashamed. Know that to-morrow's songs are in bud to-day, and should they see you walk by they would strain to breaking their immature hearts. 13 Whence do you bring this disquiet, my love? Let my heart touch yours and kiss the pain out of your silence. The night has thrown up from its depth this little hour, that love may build a new world within these shut doors, to be lighted by this solitary lamp. We have for music but a single reed which our two pairs of lips must play on by turns--for crown, only one garland to bind my hair after I have put it on your forehead. Tearing the veil from my breast I shall make our bed on the floor; and one kiss and one sleep of delight shall fill our small boundless world. 14 All that I had I gave to you, keeping but the barest veil of reserve. It is so thin that you secretly smile at it and I feel ashamed. The gust of the spring breeze sweeps it away unawares, and the flutter of my own heart moves it as the waves move their foam. My love, do not grieve if I keep this flimsy mist of distance round me. This frail reserve of mine is no mere woman's coyness, but a slender stem on which the flower of my self-surrender bends towards you with reticent grace. 15 I have donned this new robe to-day because my body feels like singing. It is not enough that I am given to my love once and for ever, but out of that I must fashion new gifts every day; and shall I not seem a fresh offering, dressed in a new robe? My heart, like the evening sky, has its endless passion for colour, and therefore I change my veils, which have now the green of the cool young grass and now that of the winter rice. To-day my robe is tinted with the rain-rimmed blue of the sky. It brings to my limbs the colour of the boundless, the colour of the oversea hills; and it carries in its folds the delight of summer clouds flying in the wind. 16 I thought I would write love's words in their own colour; but that lies deep in the heart, and tears are pale. Would you know them, friend, if the words were colourless? I thought I would sing love's words to their own tune, but that sounds only in my heart, and my eyes are silent. Would you know them, friend, if there were no tune? 17 In the night the song came to me; but you were not there. It found the words for which I had been seeking all day. Yes, in the stillness a moment after dark they throbbed into music, even as the stars then began to pulse with light; but you were not there. My hope was to sing it to you in the morning; but, try as I might, though the music came, the words hung back, when you were beside me. 18 The night deepens and the dying flame flickers in the lamp. I forgot to notice when the evening--like a village girl who has filled her pitcher at the river a last time for that day--closed the door on her cabin. I was speaking to you, my love, with mind barely conscious of my voice--tell me, had it any meaning? Did it bring you any message from beyond life's borders? For now, since my voice has ceased, I feel the night throbbing with thoughts that gaze in awe at the abyss of their dumbness. 19 When we two first met my heart rang out in music, "She who is eternally afar is beside you for ever." That music is silent, because I have grown to believe that my love is only near, and have forgotten that she is also far, far away. Music fills the infinite between two souls. This has been muffled by the mist of our daily habits. On shy summer nights, when the breeze brings a vast murmur out of the silence, I sit up in my bed and mourn the great loss of her who is beside me. I ask myself, "When shall I have another chance to whisper to her words with the rhythm of eternity in them?" Wake up, my song, from thy languor, rend this screen of the familiar, and fly to my beloved there, in the endless surprise of our first meeting! 20 Lovers come to you, my Queen, and proudly lay their riches at your feet: but my tribute is made up of unfulfilled hopes. Shadows have stolen across the heart of my world and the best in me has lost light. While the fortunate laugh at my penury, I ask you to lend my failings your tears, and so make them precious. I bring you a voiceless instrument. I strained to reach a note which was too high in my heart, and the string broke. While masters laugh at the snapped cord, I ask you to take my lute in your hands and fill its hollowness with your songs. 21 The father came back from the funeral rites. His boy of seven stood at the window, with eyes wide open and a golden amulet hanging from his neck, full of thoughts too difficult for his age. His father took him in his arms and the boy asked him, "Where is mother?" "In heaven," answered his father, pointing to the sky. At night the father groaned in slumber, weary with grief. A lamp dimly burned near the bedroom door, and a lizard chased moths on the wall. The boy woke up from sleep, felt with his hands the emptiness in the bed, and stole out to the open terrace. The boy raised his eyes to the sky and long gazed in silence. His bewildered mind sent abroad into the night the question, "Where is heaven?" No answer came: and the stars seemed like the burning tears of that ignorant darkness. 22 She went away when the night was about to wane. My mind tried to console me by saying, "All is vanity." I felt angry and said, "That unopened letter with her name on it, and this palm-leaf fan bordered with red silk by her own hands, are they not real?" The day passed, and my friend came and said to me, "Whatever is good is true, and can never perish." "How do you know?" I asked impatiently; "was not this body good which is now lost to the world?" As a fretful child hurting its own mother, I tried to wreck all the shelters that ever I had, in and about me, and cried, "This world is treacherous." Suddenly I felt a voice saying--"Ungrateful!" I looked out of the window, and a reproach seemed to come from the star-sprinkled night,--"You pour out into the void of my absence your faith in the truth that I came!" 23 The river is grey and the air dazed with blown sand. On a morning of dark disquiet, when the birds are mute and their nests shake in the gust, I sit alone and ask myself, "Where is she?" The days have flown wherein we sat too near each other; we laughed and jested, and the awe of love's majesty found no words at our meetings. I made myself small, and she trifled away every moment with pelting talk. To-day I wish in vain that she were by me, in the gloom of the coming storm, to sit in the soul's solitude. 24 The name she called me by, like a flourishing jasmine, covered the whole seventeen years of our love. With its sound mingled the quiver of the light through the leaves, the scent of the grass in the rainy night, and the sad silence of the last hour of many an idle day. Not the work of God alone was he who answered to that name; she created him again for herself during those seventeen swift years. Other years were to follow, but their vagrant days, no longer gathered within the fold of that name uttered in her voice, stray and are scattered. They ask me, "Who should fold us?" I find no answer and sit silent, and they cry to me while dispersing, "We seek a shepherdess!" Whom should they seek? That they do not know. And like derelict evening clouds they drift in the trackless dark, and are lost and forgotten. 25 I feel that your brief days of love have not been left behind in those scanty years of your life. I seek to know in what place, away from the slow-thieving dust, you keep them now. I find in my solitude some song of your evening that died, yet left a deathless echo; and the sighs of your unsatisfied hours I find nestled in the warm quiet of the autumn noon. Your desires come from the hive of the past to haunt my heart, and I sit still to listen to their wings. 26 You have taken a bath in the dark sea. You are once again veiled in a bride's robe, and through death's arch you come back to repeat our wedding in the soul. Neither lute nor drum is struck, no crowd has gathered, not a wreath is hung on the gate. Your unuttered words meet mine in a ritual unillumined by lamps. 27 I was walking along a path overgrown with grass, when suddenly I heard from some one behind, "See if you know me?" I turned round and looked at her and said, "I cannot remember your name." She said, "I am that first great Sorrow whom you met when you were young." Her eyes looked like a morning whose dew is still in the air. I stood silent for some time till I said, "Have you lost all the great burden of your tears?" She smiled and said nothing. I felt that her tears had had time to learn the language of smiles. "Once you said," she whispered, "that you would cherish your grief for ever." I blushed and said, "Yes, but years have passed and I forget." Then I took her hand in mine and said, "But you have changed." "What was sorrow once has now become peace," she said. 28 Our life sails on the uncrossed sea whose waves chase each other in an eternal hide-and-seek. It is the restless sea of change, feeding its foaming flocks to lose them over and over again, beating its hands against the calm of the sky. Love, in the centre of this circling war-dance of light and dark, yours is that green island, where the sun kisses the shy forest shade and silence is wooed by birds' singing. 29 AMA AND VINAYAKA AMA AND VINAYAKA _Night on the battlefield:_ AMA _meets her father_ VINAYAKA. AMA Father! VINAYAKA Shameless wanton, you call me "Father"! you who did not shrink from a Mussulman husband! AMA Though you have treacherously killed my husband, yet you are my father; and I hold back a widow's tears, lest they bring God's curse on you. Since we have met on this battlefield after years of separation, let me bow to your feet and take my last leave! VINAYAKA Where will you go, Ama? The tree on which you built your impious nest is hewn down. Where will _you_ take shelter? AMA I have my son. VINAYAKA Leave him! Cast never a fond look back on the result of a sin expiated with blood! Think where to go. AMA Death's open gates are wider than a father's love! VINAYAKA Death indeed swallows sins as the sea swallows the mud of rivers. But you are to die neither to-night nor here. Seek some solitary shrine of holy Shiva far from shamed kindred and all neighbours; bathe three times a day in sacred Ganges, and, while reciting God's name, listen to the last bell of evening worship, that Death may look tenderly upon you, as a father on his sleeping child whose eyes are still wet with tears. Let him gently carry you into his own great silence, as the Ganges carries a fallen flower on its stream, washing every stain away to render it, a fit offering, to the sea. AMA But my son---- VINAYAKA Again I bid you not to speak of him. Lay yourself once more in a father's arms, my child, like a babe fresh from the womb of Oblivion, your second mother. AMA To me the world has become a shadow. Your words I hear, but cannot take to heart. Leave me, father, leave me alone! Do not try to bind me with your love, for its bands are red with my husband's blood. VINAYAKA Alas! no flower ever returns to the parent branch it dropped from. How can you call him _husband_ who forcibly snatched you from Jivaji to whom you had been sacredly affianced? I shall never forget that night! In the wedding hall we sat anxiously expecting the bridegroom, for the auspicious hour was dwindling away. Then in the distance appeared the glare of torches, and bridal strains came floating up the air. We shouted for joy: women blew their conch-shells. A procession of palanquins entered the courtyard: but while we were asking, "Where is Jivaji?" armed men burst out of the litters like a storm, and bore you off before we knew what had happened. Shortly after, Jivaji came to tell us he had been waylaid and captured by a Mussulman noble of the Vijapur court. That night Jivaji and I touched the nuptial fire and swore bloody death to this villain. After waiting long, we have been freed from our solemn pledge to-night; and the spirit of Jivaji, who lost his life in this battle, lawfully claims you for wife. AMA Father, it may be that I have disgraced the rites of your house, but my honour is unsullied; I loved him to whom I bore a son. I remember the night when I received two secret messages, one from you, one from my mother; yours said: "I send you the knife; kill him!" My mother's: "I send you the poison; end your life!" Had unholy force dishonoured me, your double bidding had been obeyed. But my body was yielded only after love had given _me_--love all the greater, all the purer, in that it overcame the hereditary recoil of our blood from the Mussulman. _Enter_ RAMA, AMA'S _mother_ AMA Mother mine, I had not hoped to see you again. Let me take dust from your feet. RAMA Touch me not with impure hands! AMA I am as pure as yourself. RAMA To whom have you surrendered your honour? AMA To my husband. RAMA Husband? A Mussulman the husband of a Brahmin woman? AMA I do not merit contempt: I am proud to say I never despised my husband though a Mussulman. If Paradise will reward your devotion to your husband, then the same Paradise waits for your daughter, who has been as true a wife. RAMA Are you indeed a true wife? AMA Yes. RAMA Do you know how to die without flinching? AMA I do. RAMA Then let the funeral fire be lighted for you! See, there lies the body of your husband. AMA Jivaji? RAMA Yes, Jivaji. He was your husband by plighted troth. The baffled fire of the nuptial God has raged into the hungry fire of death, and the interrupted wedding shall be completed now. VINAYAKA Do not listen, my child. Go back to your son, to your own nest darkened with sorrow. My duty has been performed to its extreme cruel end, and nothing now remains for you to do.--Wife, your grief is fruitless. Were the branch dead which was violently snapped from our tree, I should give it to the fire. But it has sent living roots into a new soil and is bearing flowers and fruits. Allow her, without regret, to obey the laws of those among whom she has loved. Come, wife, it is time we cut all worldly ties and spent our remainder lives in the seclusion of some peaceful pilgrim shrine. RAMA I am ready: but first must tread into dust every sprout of sin and shame that has sprung from the soil of our life. A daughter's infamy stains her mother's honour. That black shame shall feed glowing fire to-night, and raise a true wife's memorial over the ashes of my daughter. AMA Mother, if by force you unite me in death with one who was not my husband, then will you bring a curse upon yourself for desecrating the shrine of the Eternal Lord of Death. RAMA Soldiers, light the fire; surround the woman! AMA Father! VINAYAKA Do not fear. Alas, my child, that you should ever have to call your father to save you from your mother's hands! AMA Father! VINAYAKA Come to me, my darling child! Mere vanity are these man-made laws, splashing like spray against the rock of heaven's ordinance. Bring your son to me, and we will live together, my daughter. A father's love, like God's rain, does not judge but is poured forth from an abounding source. RAMA Where would you go? Turn back!--Soldiers, stand firm in your loyalty to your master Jivaji! do your last sacred duty by him! AMA Father! VINAYAKA Free her, soldiers! She is my daughter. SOLDIERS She is the widow of our master. VINAYAKA Her husband, though a Mussulman, was staunch in his own faith. RAMA Soldiers, keep this old man under control! AMA I defy you, mother!--You, soldiers, I defy!--for through death and love I win to freedom. 30 A painter was selling pictures at the fair; followed by servants, there passed the son of a minister who in youth had cheated this painter's father so that he had died of a broken heart. The boy lingered before the pictures and chose one for himself. The painter flung a cloth over it and said he would not sell it. After this the boy pined heart-sick till his father came and offered a large price. But the painter kept the picture unsold on his shop-wall and grimly sat before it, saying to himself, "This is my revenge." The sole form this painter's worship took was to trace an image of his god every morning. And now he felt these pictures grow daily more different from those he used to paint. This troubled him, and he sought in vain for an explanation till one day he started up from work in horror, the eyes of the god he had just drawn were those of the minister, and so were the lips. He tore up the picture, crying, "My revenge has returned on my head!" 31 The General came before the silent and angry King and saluting him said: "The village is punished, the men are stricken to dust, and the women cower in their unlit homes afraid to weep aloud." The High Priest stood up and blessed the King and cried: "God's mercy is ever upon you." The Clown, when he heard this, burst out laughing and startled the court. The King's frown darkened. "The honour of the throne," said the minister, "is upheld by the King's prowess and the blessing of Almighty God." Louder laughed the Clown, and the King growled,--"Unseemly mirth!" "God has showered many blessings upon your head," said the Clown; "the one he bestowed on me was the gift of laughter." "This gift will cost you your life," said the King, gripping his sword with his right hand. Yet the Clown stood up and laughed till he laughed no more. A shadow of dread fell upon the Court, for they heard that laughter echoing in the depth of God's silence. 32 THE MOTHER'S PRAYER THE MOTHER'S PRAYER _Prince Duryodhana, the son of the blind Kaurava King Dhritarashtra, and of Queen Gandhari, has played with his cousins the Pandava Kings for their kingdom, and won it by fraud._ DHRITARASHTRA You have compassed your end. DURYODHANA Success is mine! DHRITARASHTRA Are you happy? DURYODHANA I am victorious. DHRITARASHTRA I ask you again, what happiness have you in winning the undivided kingdom? DURYODHANA Sire, a Kshatriya thirsts not after happiness but victory, that fiery wine pressed from seething jealousy. Wretchedly happy we were, like those inglorious stains that lie idly on the breast of the moon, when we lived in peace under the friendly dominance of our cousins. Then these Pandavas milked the world of its wealth, and allowed us a share, in brotherly tolerance. Now that they own defeat and expect banishment, I am no longer happy but exultant. DHRITARASHTRA Wretch, you forget that both Pandavas and Kauravas have the same forefathers. DURYODHANA It was difficult to forget that, and therefore our inequalities rankled in my heart. At midnight the moon is never jealous of the noonday sun. But the struggle to share one horizon between both orbs cannot last forever. Thank heaven, that struggle is over, and we have at last won solitude in glory. DHRITARASHTRA The mean jealousy! DURYODHANA Jealousy is never mean--it is in the essence of greatness. Grass can grow in crowded amity, not giant trees. Stars live in clusters, but the sun and moon are lonely in their splendour. The pale moon of the Pandavas sets behind the forest shadows, leaving the new-risen sun of the Kauravas to rejoice. DHRITARASHTRA But right has been defeated. DURYODHANA Right for rulers is not what is right in the eyes of the people. The people thrive by comradeship: but for a king, equals are enemies. They are obstacles ahead, they are terrors from behind. There is no place for brothers or friends in a king's polity; its one solid foundation is conquest. DHRITARASHTRA I refuse to call a conquest what was won by fraud in gambling. DURYODHANA A man is not shamed by refusing to challenge a tiger on equal terms with teeth and nails. Our weapons are those proper for success, not for suicide. Father, I am proud of the result and disdain regret for the means. DHRITARASHTRA But justice---- DURYODHANA Fools alone dream of justice--success is not yet theirs: but those born to rule rely on power, merciless and unhampered with scruples. DHRITARASHTRA Your success will bring down on you a loud and angry flood of detraction. DURYODHANA The people will take amazingly little time to learn that Duryodhana is king and has power to crush calumny under foot. DHRITARASHTRA Calumny dies of weariness dancing on tongue-tips. Do not drive it into the heart to gather strength. DURYODHANA Unuttered defamation does not touch a king's dignity. I care not if love is refused us, but insolence shall not be borne. Love depends upon the will of the giver, and the poorest of the poor can indulge in such generosity. Let them squander it on their pet cats, tame dogs, and our good cousins the Pandavas. I shall never envy them. Fear is the tribute I claim for my royal throne. Father, only too leniently you lent your ear to those who slandered your sons: but if you intend still to allow those pious friends of yours to revel in shrill denunciation at the expense of your children, let us exchange our kingdom for the exile of our cousins, and go to the wilderness, where happily friends are never cheap! DHRITARASHTRA Could the pious warnings of my friends lessen my love for my sons, then we might be saved. But I have dipped my hands in the mire of your infamy and lost my sense of goodness. For your sakes I have heedlessly set fire to the ancient forest of our royal lineage--so dire is my love. Clasped breast to breast, we, like a double meteor, are blindly plunging into ruin. Therefore doubt not my love; relax not your embrace till the brink of annihilation be reached. Beat your drums of victory, lift your banner of triumph. In this mad riot of exultant evil, brothers and friends will disperse till nothing remain save the doomed father, the doomed son and God's curse. _Enter an Attendant_ Sire, Queen Gandhari asks for audience. DHRITARASHTRA I await her. DURYODHANA Let me take my leave. [_Exit._ DHRITARASHTRA Fly! For you cannot bear the fire of your mother's presence. _Enter_ QUEEN GANDHARI, _the mother of_ DURYODHANA GANDHARI At your feet I crave a boon. DHRITARASHTRA Speak, your wish is fulfilled. GANDHARI The time has come to renounce him. DHRITARASHTRA Whom, my queen? GANDHARI Duryodhana! DHRITARASHTRA Our own son, Duryodhana? GANDHARI Yes! DHRITARASHTRA This is a terrible boon for you, his mother, to crave! GANDHARI The fathers of the Kauravas, who are in Paradise, join me in beseeching you. DHRITARASHTRA The divine Judge will punish him who has broken His laws. But I am his father. GANDHARI Am I not his mother? Have I not carried him under my throbbing heart? Yes, I ask you to renounce Duryodhana the unrighteous. DHRITARASHTRA What will remain to us after that? GANDHARI God's blessing. DHRITARASHTRA And what will that bring us? GANDHARI New afflictions. Pleasure in our son's presence, pride in a new kingdom, and shame at knowing both purchased by wrong done or connived at, like thorns dragged two ways, would lacerate our bosoms. The Pandavas are too proud ever to accept back from us the lands which they have relinquished; therefore it is only meet that we draw some great sorrow down on our heads so as to deprive that unmerited reward of its sting. DHRITARASHTRA Queen, you inflict fresh pain on a heart already rent. GANDHARI Sire, the punishment imposed on our son will be more ours than his. A judge callous to the pain that he inflicts loses the right to judge. And if you spare your son to save yourself pain, then all the culprits ever punished by your hands will cry before God's throne for vengeance,--had they not also their fathers? DHRITARASHTRA No more of this, Queen, I pray you. Our son is abandoned of God: that is why I cannot give him up. To save him is no longer in my power, and therefore my consolation is to share his guilt and tread the path of destruction, his solitary companion. What is done is done; let follow what must follow! [_Exit._ GANDHARI Be calm, my heart, and patiently await God's judgment. Oblivious night wears on, the morning of reckoning nears, I hear the thundering roar of its chariot. Woman, bow your head down to the dust! and as a sacrifice fling your heart under those wheels! Darkness will shroud the sky, earth will tremble, wailing will rend the air and then comes the silent and cruel end,--that terrible peace, that great forgetting, and awful extinction of hatred--the supreme deliverance rising from the fire of death. 33 Fiercely they rend in pieces the carpet woven during ages of prayer for the welcome of the world's best hope. The great preparations of love lie a heap of shreds, and there is nothing on the ruined altar to remind the mad crowd that their god was to have come. In a fury of passion they seem to have burnt their future to cinders, and with it the season of their bloom. The air is harsh with the cry, "Victory to the Brute!" The children look haggard and aged; they whisper to one another that time revolves but never advances, that we are goaded to run but have nothing to reach, that creation is like a blind man's groping. I said to myself, "Cease thy singing. Song is for one who is to come, the struggle without an end is for things that are." The road, that ever lies along like some one with ear to the ground listening for footsteps, to-day gleans no hint of coming guest, nothing of the house at its far end. My lute said, "Trample me in the dust." I looked at the dust by the roadside. There was a tiny flower among thorns. And I cried, "The world's hope is not dead!" The sky stooped over the horizon to whisper to the earth, and a hush of expectation filled the air. I saw the palm leaves clapping their hands to the beat of inaudible music, and the moon exchanged glances with the glistening silence of the lake. The road said to me, "Fear nothing!" and my lute said, "Lend me thy songs!" 34 TRANSLATIONS BAUL SONGS[1] [Footnote 1: The Bauls are a sect of religious mendicants in Bengal, unlettered and unconventional, whose songs are loved and sung by the people. The literal meaning of the word "Baul" is "the Mad."] 1 This longing to meet in the play of love, my Lover, is not only mine but yours. Your lips can smile, your flute make music, only through delight in my love; therefore you are importunate even as I. 2 I sit here on the road; do not ask me to walk further. If your love can be complete without mine let me turn back from seeking you. I refuse to beg a sight of you if you do not feel my need. I am blind with market dust and mid-day glare, and so wait, in hopes that your heart, my heart's lover, will send you to find me. 3 I am poured forth in living notes of joy and sorrow by your breath. Mornings and evenings in summer and in rains, I am fashioned to music. Should I be wholly spent in some flight of song, I shall not grieve, the tune is so dear to me. 4 My heart is a flute he has played on. If ever it fall into other hands let him fling it away. My lover's flute is dear to him, therefore if to-day alien breath have entered it and sounded strange notes, let him break it to pieces and strew the dust with them. 5 In love the aim is neither pain nor pleasure but love only. While free love binds, division destroys it, for love is what unites. Love is lit from love as fire from fire, but whence came the first flame? In your being it leaps under the rod of pain. Then, when the hidden fire flames forth, the in and the out are one and all barriers fall in ashes. Let the pain glow fiercely, burst from the heart and beat back darkness, need you be afraid? The poet says, "Who can buy love without paying its price? When you fail to give yourself you make the whole world miserly." 6 Eyes see only dust and earth, but feel with the heart, and know pure joy. The delights blossom on all sides in every form, but where is your heart's thread to make a wreath of them? My master's flute sounds through all things, drawing me out of my lodgings wherever they may be, and while I listen I know that every step I take is in my master's house. For he is the sea, he is the river that leads to the sea, and he is the landing-place. 7 Strange ways has my guest. He comes at times when I am unprepared, yet how can I refuse him? I watch all night with lighted lamp; he stays away; when the light goes out and the room is bare he comes claiming his seat, and can I keep him waiting? I laugh and make merry with friends, then suddenly I start up, for lo! he passes me by in sorrow, and I know my mirth was vain. I have often seen a smile in his eyes when my heart ached, then I knew my sorrow was not real. Yet I never complain when I do not understand him. 8 I am the boat, you are the sea, and also the boatman. Though you never make the shore, though you let me sink, why should I be foolish and afraid? Is reaching the shore a greater prize than losing myself with you? If you are only the haven, as they say, then what is the sea? Let it surge and toss me on its waves, I shall be content. I live in you whatever and however you appear. Save me or kill me as you wish, only never leave me in other hands. 9 Make way, O bud, make way, burst open thy heart and make way. The opening spirit has overtaken thee, canst thou remain a bud any longer? III 1 Come, Spring, reckless lover of the earth, make the forest's heart pant for utterance! Come in gusts of disquiet where flowers break open and jostle the new leaves! Burst, like a rebellion of light, through the night's vigil, through the lake's dark dumbness, through the dungeon under the dust, proclaiming freedom to the shackled seeds! Like the laughter of lightning, like the shout of a storm, break into the midst of the noisy town; free stifled word and unconscious effort, reinforce our flagging fight, and conquer death! 2 I have looked on this picture in many a month of March when the mustard is in bloom--this lazy line of the water and the grey of the sand beyond, the rough path along the river-bank carrying the comradeship of the field into the heart of the village. I have tried to capture in rhyme the idle whistle of the wind, the beat of the oar-strokes from a passing boat. I have wondered in my mind how simply it stands before me, this great world: with what fond and familiar ease it fills my heart, this encounter with the Eternal Stranger. 3 The ferry-boat plies between the two villages facing each other across the narrow stream. The water is neither wide nor deep--a mere break in the path that enhances the small adventures of daily life, like a break in the words of a song across which the tune gleefully streams. While the towers of wealth rise high and crash to ruin, these villages talk to each other across the garrulous stream, and the ferry-boat plies between them, age after age, from seed-time to harvest. 4 In the evening after they have brought their cattle home, they sit on the grass before their huts to know that you are among them unseen, to repeat in their songs the name which they have fondly given you. While kings' crowns shine and disappear like falling stars, around village huts your name rises through the still night from the simple hearts of your lovers whose names are unrecorded. 5 In Baby's world, the trees shake their leaves at him, murmuring verses in an ancient tongue that dates from before the age of meaning, and the moon feigns to be of his own age--the solitary baby of night. In the world of the old, flowers dutifully blush at the make-believe of faery legends, and broken dolls confess that they are made of clay. 6 _My world_, when I was a child, you were a little girl-neighbour, a loving timid stranger. Then you grew bold and talked to me across the fence, offering me toys and flowers and shells. Next you coaxed me away from my work, you tempted me into the land of the dusk or the weedy corner of some garden in mid-day loneliness. At length you told me stories about bygone times, with which the present ever longs to meet so as to be rescued from its prison in the moment. 7 How often, great Earth, have I felt my being yearn to flow over you, sharing in the happiness of each green blade that raises its signal banner in answer to the beckoning blue of the sky! I feel as if I had belonged to you ages before I was born. That is why, in the days when the autumn light shimmers on the mellowing ears of rice, I seem to remember a past when my mind was everywhere, and even to hear voices as of playfellows echoing from the remote and deeply veiled past. When, in the evening, the cattle return to their folds, raising dust from the meadow paths, as the moon rises higher than the smoke ascending from the village huts, I feel sad as for some great separation that happened in the first morning of existence. 8 My mind still buzzed with the cares of a busy day; I sat on without noting how twilight was deepening into dark. Suddenly light stirred across the gloom and touched me as with a finger. I lifted my head and met the gaze of the full moon widened in wonder like a child's. It held my eyes for long, and I felt as though a love-letter had been secretly dropped in at my window. And ever since my heart is breaking to write for answer something fragrant as Night's unseen flowers--great as her declaration spelt out in nameless stars. 9 The clouds thicken till the morning light seems like a bedraggled fringe to the rainy night. A little girl stands at her window, still as a rainbow at the gate of a broken-down storm. She is my neighbour, and has come upon the earth like some god's rebellious laughter. Her mother in anger calls her incorrigible; her father smiles and calls her mad. She is like a runaway waterfall leaping over boulders, like the topmost bamboo twig rustling in the restless wind. She stands at her window looking out into the sky. Her sister comes to say, "Mother calls you." She shakes her head. Her little brother with his toy boat comes and tries to pull her off to play; she snatches her hand from his. The boy persists and she gives him a slap on the back. The first great voice was the voice of wind and water in the beginning of earth's creation. That ancient cry of nature--her dumb call to unborn life--has reached this child's heart and leads it out alone beyond the fence of our times: so there she stands, possessed by eternity! 10 The kingfisher sits still on the prow of an empty boat, while in the shallow margin of the stream a buffalo lies tranquilly blissful, its eyes half closed to savour the luxury of cool mud. Undismayed by the barking of the village cur, the cow browses on the bank, followed by a hopping group of _saliks_ hunting moths. I sit in the tamarind grove, where the cries of dumb life congregate--the cattle's lowing, the sparrows' chatter, the shrill scream of a kite overhead, the crickets' chirp, and the splash of a fish in the water. I peep into the primeval nursery of life, where the mother Earth thrills at the first living clutch near her breast. 11 At the sleepy village the noon was still like a sunny midnight when my holidays came to their end. My little girl of four had followed me all the morning from room to room, watching my preparations in grave silence, till, wearied, she sat by the doorpost strangely quiet, murmuring to herself, "Father must not go!" This was the meal hour, when sleep daily overcame her, but her mother had forgotten her and the child was too unhappy to complain. At last, when I stretched out my arms to her to say farewell, she never moved, but sadly looking at me said, "Father, you must not go!" And it amused me to tears to think how this little child dared to fight the giant world of necessity with no other resource than those few words, "Father, you must not go!" 12 Take your holiday, my boy; there are the blue sky and the bare field, the barn and the ruined temple under the ancient tamarind. My holiday must be taken through yours, finding light in the dance of your eyes, music in your noisy shouts. To you autumn brings the true holiday freedom: to me it brings the impossibility of work; for lo! you burst into my room. Yes, my holiday is an endless freedom for love to disturb me. 13 In the evening my little daughter heard a call from her companions below the window. She timidly went down the dark stairs holding a lamp in her hand, shielding it behind her veil. I was sitting on my terrace in the star-lit night of March, when at a sudden cry I ran to see. Her lamp had gone out in the dark spiral staircase. I asked, "Child, why did you cry?" From below she answered in distress, "Father, I have lost myself!" When I came back to the terrace under the star-lit night of March, I looked at the sky, and it seemed that a child was walking there treasuring many lamps behind her veils. If their light went out, she would suddenly stop and a cry would sound from sky to sky, "Father, I have lost myself!" 14 The evening stood bewildered among street lamps, its gold tarnished by the city dust. A woman, gaudily decked and painted, leant over the rail of her balcony, a living fire waiting for its moths. Suddenly an eddy was formed in the road round a street-boy crushed under the wheels of a carriage, and the woman on the balcony fell to the floor screaming in agony, stricken with the grief of the great white-robed Mother who sits in the world's inner shrine. 15 I remember the scene on the barren heath--a girl sat alone on the grass before the gipsy camp, braiding her hair in the afternoon shade. Her little dog jumped and barked at her busy hands, as though her employment had no importance. In vain did she rebuke it, calling it "a pest," saying she was tired of its perpetual silliness. She struck it on the nose with her reproving forefinger, which only seemed to delight it the more. She looked menacingly grave for a few moments, to warn it of impending doom; and then, letting her hair fall, quickly snatched it up in her arms, laughed, and pressed it to her heart. 16 He is tall and lean, withered to the bone with long repeated fever, like a dead tree unable to draw a single drop of sap from anywhere. In despairing patience, his mother carries him like a child into the sun, where he sits by the roadside in the shortening shadows of each forenoon. The world passes by--a woman to fetch water, a herd-boy with cattle to pasture, a laden cart to the distant market--and the mother hopes that some least stir of life may touch the awful torpor of her dying son. 17 If the ragged villager, trudging home from the market, could suddenly be lifted to the crest of a distant age, men would stop in their work and shout and run to him in delight. For they would no longer whittle down the man into the peasant, but find him full of the mystery and spirit of his age. Even his poverty and pain would grow great, released from the shallow insult of the present, and the paltry things in his basket would acquire pathetic dignity. 18 With the morning he came out to walk a road shaded by a file of deodars, that coiled the hill round like importunate love. He held the first letter from his newly wedded wife in their village home, begging him to come to her, and come soon. The touch of an absent hand haunted him as he walked, and the air seemed to take up the cry of the letter: "Love, my love, my sky is brimming with tears!" He asked himself in wonder, "How do I deserve this?" The sun suddenly appeared over the rim of the blue hills, and four girls from a foreign shore came with swift strides, talking loud and followed by a barking dog. The two elder turned away to conceal their amusement at something strange in his insignificance, and the younger ones pushed each other, laughed aloud, and ran off in exuberant mirth. He stopped and his head sank. Then he suddenly felt his letter, opened and read it again. 19 The day came for the image from the temple to be drawn round the holy town in its chariot. The Queen said to the King, "Let us go and attend the festival." Only one man out of the whole household did not join in the pilgrimage. His work was to collect stalks of spear-grass to make brooms for the King's house. The chief of the servants said in pity to him, "You may come with us." He bowed his head, saying, "It cannot be." The man dwelt by the road along which the King's followers had to pass. And when the Minister's elephant reached this spot, he called to him and said, "Come with us and see the God ride in his chariot!" "I dare not seek God after the King's fashion," said the man. "How should you ever have such luck again as to see the God in his chariot?" asked the Minister. "When God himself comes to my door," answered the man. The Minister laughed loud and said, "Fool! 'When God comes to your door!' yet a King must travel to see him!" "Who except God visits the poor?" said the man. 20 Days were drawing out as the winter ended, and, in the sun, my dog played in his wild way with the pet deer. The crowd going to the market gathered by the fence, and laughed to see the love of these playmates struggle with languages so dissimilar. The spring was in the air, and the young leaves fluttered like flames. A gleam danced in the deer's dark eyes when she started, bent her neck at the movement of her own shadow, or raised her ears to listen to some whisper in the wind. The message comes floating with the errant breeze, with the rustle and glimmer abroad in the April sky. It sings of the first ache of youth in the world, when the first flower broke from the bud, and love went forth seeking that which it knew not, leaving all it had known. And one afternoon, when among the _amlak_ trees the shadow grew grave and sweet with the furtive caress of light, the deer set off to run like a meteor in love with death. It grew dark, and lamps were lighted in the house; the stars came out and night was upon the fields, but the deer never came back. My dog ran up to me whining, questioning me with his piteous eyes which seemed to say, "I do not understand!" But who does ever understand? 21 Our Lane is tortuous, as if, ages ago, she started in quest of her goal, vacillated right and left, and remained bewildered for ever. Above in the air, between her buildings, hangs like a ribbon a strip torn out of space: she calls it her sister of the blue town. She sees the sun only for a few moments at mid-day, and asks herself in wise doubt, "Is it real?" In June rain sometimes shades her band of daylight as with pencil hatchings. The path grows slippery with mud, and umbrellas collide. Sudden jets of water from spouts overhead splash on her startled pavement. In her dismay, she takes it for the jest of an unmannerly scheme of creation. The spring breeze, gone astray in her coil of contortions, stumbles like a drunken vagabond against angle and corner, filling the dusty air with scraps of paper and rag. "What fury of foolishness! Are the Gods gone mad?" she exclaims in indignation. But the daily refuse from the houses on both sides--scales of fish mixed with ashes, vegetable peelings, rotten fruit, and dead rats--never rouse her to question, "Why should these things be?" She accepts every stone of her paving. But from between their chinks sometimes a blade of grass peeps up. That baffles her. How can solid facts permit such intrusion? On a morning when at the touch of autumn light her houses wake up into beauty from their foul dreams, she whispers to herself, "There is a limitless wonder somewhere beyond these buildings." But the hours pass on; the households are astir; the maid strolls back from the market, swinging her right arm and with the left clasping the basket of provisions to her side; the air grows thick with the smell and smoke of kitchens. It again becomes clear to our Lane that the real and normal consist solely of herself, her houses, and their muck-heaps. 22 The house, lingering on after its wealth has vanished, stands by the wayside like a madman with a patched rag over his back. Day after day scars it with spiteful scratches, and rainy months leave their fantastic signatures on its bared bricks. In a deserted upper room one of a pair of doors has fallen from rusty hinges; and the other, widowed, bangs day and night to the fitful gusts. One night the sound of women wailing came from that house. They mourned the death of the last son of the family, a boy of eighteen, who earned his living by playing the part of the heroine in a travelling theatre. A few days more and the house became silent, and all the doors were locked. Only on the north side in the upper room that desolate door would neither drop off to its rest nor be shut, but swung to and fro in the wind like a self-torturing soul. After a time children's voices echo once more through that house. Over the balcony-rail women's clothes are hung in the sun, a bird whistles from a covered cage, and a boy plays with his kite on the terrace. A tenant has come to occupy a few rooms. He earns little and has many children. The tired mother beats them and they roll on the floor and shriek. A maid-servant of forty drudges through the day, quarrels with her mistress, threatens to, but never leaves. Every day some small repairs are done. Paper is pasted in place of missing panes; gaps in the railings are made good with split bamboo; an empty box keeps the boltless gate shut; old stains vaguely show through new whitewash on the walls. The magnificence of wealth had found a fitting memorial in gaunt desolation; but, lacking sufficient means, they try to hide this with dubious devices, and its dignity is outraged. They have overlooked the deserted room on the north side. And its forlorn door still bangs in the wind, like Despair beating her breast. 23 In the depths of the forest the ascetic practised penance with fast-closed eyes; he intended to deserve Paradise. But the girl who gathered twigs brought him fruits in her skirt, and water from the stream in cups made of leaves. The days went on, and his penance grew harsher till the fruits remained untasted, the water untouched: and the girl who gathered twigs was sad. The Lord of Paradise heard that a man had dared to aspire to be as the Gods. Time after time he had fought the Titans, who were his peers, and kept them out of his kingdom; yet he feared a man whose power was that of suffering. But he knew the ways of mortals, and he planned a temptation to decoy this creature of dust away from his adventure. A breath from Paradise kissed the limbs of the girl who gathered twigs, and her youth ached with a sudden rapture of beauty, and her thoughts hummed like the bees of a rifled hive. The time came when the ascetic should leave the forest for a mountain cave, to complete the rigour of his penance. When he opened his eyes in order to start on this journey, the girl appeared to him like a verse familiar, yet forgotten, and which an added melody made strange. The ascetic rose from his seat and told her that it was time he left the forest. "But why rob me of my chance to serve you?" she asked with tears in her eyes. He sat down again, thought for long, and remained on where he was. That night remorse kept the girl awake. She began to dread her power and hate her triumph, yet her mind tossed on the waves of turbulent delight. In the morning she came and saluted the ascetic and asked his blessing, saying she must leave him. He gazed on her face in silence, then said, "Go, and may your wish be fulfilled." For years he sat alone till his penance was complete. The Lord of the Immortals came down to tell him that he had won Paradise. "I no longer need it," said he. The God asked him what greater reward he desired. "I want the girl who gathers twigs." 24 They said that Kabir, the weaver, was favoured of God, and the crowd flocked round him for medicine and miracles. But he was troubled; his low birth had hitherto endowed him with a most precious obscurity to sweeten with songs and with the presence of his God. He prayed that it might be restored. Envious of the repute of this outcast, the priests leagued themselves with a harlot to disgrace him. Kabir came to the market to sell cloths from his loom; when the woman grasped his hand, blaming him for being faithless, and followed him to his house, saying she would not be forsaken, Kabir said to himself, "God answers prayers in his own way." Soon the woman felt a shiver of fear and fell on her knees and cried, "Save me from my sin!" To which he said, "Open your life to God's light!" Kabir worked at his loom and sang, and his songs washed the stains from that woman's heart, and by way of return found a home in her sweet voice. One day the King, in a fit of caprice, sent a message to Kabir to come and sing before him. The weaver shook his head: but the messenger dared not leave his door till his master's errand was fulfilled. The King and his courtiers started at the sight of Kabir when he entered the hall. For he was not alone, the woman followed him. Some smiled, some frowned, and the King's face darkened at the beggar's pride and shamelessness. Kabir came back to his house disgraced, the woman fell at his feet crying, "Why accept such dishonour for my sake, master? Suffer me to go back to my infamy!" Kabir said, "I dare not turn my God away when he comes branded with insult." 25 SOMAKA AND RITVIK SOMAKA AND RITVIK _The shade of_ KING SOMAKA, _faring to Heaven in a chariot, passes other shades by the roadside, among them that of_ RITVIK, _his former high-priest_. A VOICE Where would you go, King? SOMAKA Whose voice is that? This turbid air is like suffocation to the eyes; I cannot see. THE VOICE Come down, King! Come down from that chariot bound for Heaven. SOMAKA Who are you? THE VOICE I am Ritvik, who in my earthly life was your preceptor and the chief priest of your house. SOMAKA Master, all the tears of the world seem to have become vapour to create this realm of vagueness. What make you here? SHADES This hell lies hard by the road to Heaven, whence lights glimmer dimly, only to prove unapproachable. Day and night we listen to the heavenly chariot rumbling by with travellers for that region of bliss; it drives sleep from our eyes and forces them to watch in fruitless jealousy. Far below us earth's old forests rustle and her seas chant the primal hymn of creation: they sound like the wail of a memory that wanders void space in vain. RITVIK Come down, King! SHADES Stop a few moments among us. The earth's tears still cling about you, like dew on freshly culled flowers. You have brought with you the mingled odours of meadow and forest; reminiscence of children, women, and comrades; something too of the ineffable music of the seasons. SOMAKA Master, why are you doomed to live in this muffled stagnant world? RITVIK I offered up your son in the sacrificial fire: _that_ sin has lodged my soul in this obscurity. SHADES King, tell us the story, we implore you; the recital of crime can still bring life's fire into our torpor. SOMAKA I was named Somaka, the King of Videha. After sacrificing at innumerable shrines weary year on year, a son was born to my house in my old age, love for whom, like a sudden untimely flood, swept consideration for everything else from my life. He hid me completely, as a lotus hides its stem. The neglected duties of a king piled up in shame before my throne. One day, in my audience hall, I heard my child cry from his mother's room, and instantly rushed away, vacating my throne. RITVIK Just then, it chanced, I entered the hall to give him my daily benediction; in blind haste he brushed me aside and enkindled my anger. When later he came back, shame-faced, I asked him: "King, what desperate alarm could draw you at the busiest hour of the day to the women's apartments, so as to desert your dignity and duty--ambassadors come from friendly courts, the aggrieved who ask for justice, your ministers waiting to discuss matters of grave import? and even lead you to slight a Brahmin's blessing?" SOMAKA At first my heart flamed with anger; the next moment I trampled it down like the raised head of a snake and meekly replied: "Having only one child, I have lost my peace of mind. Forgive me this once, and I promise that in future the father's infatuation shall never usurp the King." RITVIK But my heart was bitter with resentment, and I said, "If you must be delivered from the curse of having only one child, I can show you the way. But so hard is it that I feel certain you will fail to follow it." This galled the King's pride and he stood up and exclaimed, "I swear, by all that is sacred, as a Kshatriya and a King, I will not shrink, but perform whatever you may ask, however hard." "Then listen," said I. "Light a sacrificial fire, offer up your son: the smoke that rises will bring you progeny, as the clouds bring rain." The King bowed his head upon his breast and remained silent: the courtiers shouted their horror, the Brahmins clapped their hands over their ears, crying, "Sin it is both to utter and listen to such words." After some moments of bewildered dismay the King calmly said, "I will abide by my promise." The day came, the fire was lit, the town was emptied of its people, the child was called for; but the attendants refused to obey, the soldiers rebelliously went off duty, throwing down their arms. Then I, who in my wisdom had soared far above all weakness of heart and to whom emotions were illusory, went myself to the apartment where, with their arms, women fenced the child like a flower surrounded by the menacing branches of a tree. He saw me and stretched out eager hands and struggled to come to me, for he longed to be free from the love that imprisoned him. Crying, "I am come to give you true deliverance," I snatched him by force from his fainting mother and his nurses wailing in despair. With quivering tongues the fire licked the sky and the King stood beside it, still and silent, like a tree struck dead by lightning. Fascinated by the godlike splendour of the blaze, the child babbled in glee and danced in my arms, impatient to seek an unknown nurse in the free glory of those flames. SOMAKA Stop, no more, I pray! SHADES Ritvik, your presence is a disgrace to hell itself! THE CHARIOTEER This is no place for you, King! nor have you deserved to be forced to listen to this recital of a deed which makes hell shudder in pity. SOMAKA Drive off in your chariot!--Brahmin, my place is by you in this hell. The Gods may forget my sin, but can I forget the last look of agonised surprise on my child's face when, for one terrible moment, he realised that his own father had betrayed his trust? _Enter_ DHARMA, _the Judge of Departed Spirits_ DHARMA King, Heaven waits for you. SOMAKA No, not for me. I killed my own child. DHARMA Your sin has been swept away in the fury of pain it caused you. RITVIK No, King, you must never go to Heaven alone, and thus create a second hell for me, to burn both with fire and with hatred of you! Stay here! SOMAKA I will stay. SHADES And crown the despair and inglorious suffering of hell with the triumph of a soul! 26 The man had no useful work, only vagaries of various kinds. Therefore it surprised him to find himself in Paradise after a life spent perfecting trifles. Now the guide had taken him by mistake to the wrong Paradise--one meant only for good, busy souls. In this Paradise, our man saunters along the road only to obstruct the rush of business. He stands aside from the path and is warned that he tramples on sown seed. Pushed, he starts up: hustled, he moves on. A very busy girl comes to fetch water from the well. Her feet run on the pavement like rapid fingers over harp-strings. Hastily she ties a negligent knot with her hair, and loose locks on her forehead pry into the dark of her eyes. The man says to her, "Would you lend me your pitcher?" "My pitcher?" she asks, "to draw water?" "No, to paint patterns on." "I have no time to waste," the girl retorts in contempt. Now a busy soul has no chance against one who is supremely idle. Every day she meets him at the well, and every day he repeats the same request, till at last she yields. Our man paints the pitcher with curious colours in a mysterious maze of lines. The girl takes it up, turns it round and asks, "What does it mean?" "It has no meaning," he answers. The girl carries the pitcher home. She holds it up in different lights and tries to con its mystery. At night she leaves her bed, lights a lamp, and gazes at it from all points of view. This is the first time she has met with something without meaning. On the next day the man is again near the well. The girl asks, "What do you want?" "To do more work for you." "What work?" she enquires. "Allow me to weave coloured strands into a ribbon to bind your hair." "Is there any need?" she asks. "None whatever," he allows. The ribbon is made, and thence-forward she spends a great deal of time over her hair. The even stretch of well-employed time in that Paradise begins to show irregular rents. The elders are troubled; they meet in council. The guide confesses his blunder, saying that he has brought the wrong man to the wrong place. The wrong man is called. His turban, flaming with colour, shows plainly how great that blunder has been. The chief of the elders says, "You must go back to the earth." The man heaves a sigh of relief: "I am ready." The girl with the ribbon round her hair chimes in: "I also!" For the first time the chief of the elders is faced with a situation which has no sense in it. 27 It is said that in the forest, near the meeting of river and lake, certain fairies live in disguise who are only recognised as fairies after they have flown away. A Prince went to this forest, and when he came where river met lake he saw a village girl sitting on the bank ruffling the water to make the lilies dance. He asked her in a whisper, "Tell me, what fairy art thou?" The girl laughed at the question and the hillsides echoed her mirth. The Prince thought she was the laughing fairy of the waterfall. News reached the King that the Prince had married a fairy: he sent horses and men and brought them to his house. The Queen saw the bride and turned her face away in disgust, the Prince's sister flushed red with annoyance, and the maids asked if that was how fairies dressed. The Prince whispered, "Hush! my fairy has come to our house in disguise." On the day of the yearly festival the Queen said to her son, "Ask your bride not to shame us before our kinsfolk who are coming to see the fairy." And the Prince said to his bride, "For my love's sake show thy true self to my people." Long she sat silent, then nodded her promise while tears ran down her cheeks. The full moon shone, the Prince, dressed in a wedding robe, entered his bride's room. No one was there, nothing but a streak of moonlight from the window aslant the bed. The kinsfolk crowded in with the King and the Queen, the Prince's sister stood by the door. All asked, "Where is the fairy bride?" The Prince answered, "She has vanished for ever to make herself known to you." 28 KARNA AND KUNTI KARNA AND KUNTI _The Pandava Queen Kunti before marriage had a son, Karna, who, in manhood, became the commander of the Kaurava host. To hide her shame she abandoned him at birth, and a charioteer, Adhiratha, brought him up as his son._ KARNA I am Karna, the son of the charioteer, Adhiratha, and I sit here by the bank of holy Ganges to worship the setting sun. Tell me who you are. KUNTI I am the woman who first made you acquainted with that light you are worshipping. KARNA I do not understand: but your eyes melt my heart as the kiss of the morning sun melts the snow on a mountain-top, and your voice rouses a blind sadness within me of which the cause may well lie beyond the reach of my earliest memory. Tell me, strange woman, what mystery binds my birth to you? KUNTI Patience, my son. I will answer when the lids of darkness come down over the prying eyes of day. In the meanwhile, know that I am Kunti. KARNA Kunti! The mother of Arjuna? KUNTI Yes, indeed, the mother of Arjuna, your antagonist. But do not, therefore, hate me. I still remember the day of the trial of arms in Hastina when you, an unknown boy, boldly stepped into the arena, like the first ray of dawn among the stars of night. Ah! who was that unhappy woman whose eyes kissed your bare, slim body through tears that blessed you, where she sat among the women of the royal household behind the arras? Why, the mother of Arjuna! Then the Brahmin, master of arms, stepped forth and said, "No youth of mean birth may challenge Arjuna to a trial of strength." You stood speechless, like a thunder-cloud at sunset flashing with an agony of suppressed light. But who was the woman whose heart caught fire from your shame and anger, and flared up in silence? The mother of Arjuna! Praised be Duryodhana, who perceived your worth, and then and there crowned you King of Anga, thus winning the Kauravas a champion. Overwhelmed at this good fortune, Adhiratha, the charioteer, broke through the crowd; you instantly rushed to him and laid your crown at his feet amid the jeering laughter of the Pandavas and their friends. But there was one woman of the Pandava house whose heart glowed with joy at the heroic pride of such humility;--even the mother of Arjuna! KARNA But what brings you here alone, Mother of kings? KUNTI I have a boon to crave. KARNA Command me, and whatever manhood and my honour as a Kshatriya permit shall be offered at your feet. KUNTI I have come to take you. KARNA Where? KUNTI To my breast thirsting for your love, my son. KARNA Fortunate mother of five brave kings, where can you find place for me, a small chieftain of lowly descent? KUNTI Your place is before all my other sons. KARNA But what right have I to take it? KUNTI Your own God-given right to your mother's love. KARNA The gloom of evening spreads over the earth, silence rests on the water, and your voice leads me back to some primal world of infancy lost in twilit consciousness. However, whether this be dream, or fragment of forgotten reality, come near and place your right hand on my forehead. Rumour runs that I was deserted by my mother. Many a night she has come to me in my slumber, but when I cried: "Open your veil, show me your face!" her figure always vanished. Has this same dream come this evening while I wake? See, yonder the lamps are lighted in your son's tents across the river; and on this side behold the tent-domes of my Kauravas, like the suspended waves of a spell-arrested storm at sea. Before the din of tomorrow's battle, in the awful hush of this field where it must be fought, why should the voice of the mother of my opponent, Arjuna, bring me a message of forgotten motherhood? and why should my name take such music from her tongue as to draw my heart out to him and his brothers? KUNTI Then delay not, my son, come with me! KARNA Yes, I will come and never ask question, never doubt. My soul responds to your call; and the struggle for victory and fame and the rage of hatred have suddenly become untrue to me, as the delirious dream of a night in the serenity of the dawn. Tell me whither you mean to lead? KUNTI To the other bank of the river, where those lamps burn across the ghastly pallor of the sands. KARNA Am I there to find my lost mother for ever? KUNTI O my son! KARNA Then why did you banish me--a castaway uprooted from my ancestral soil, adrift in a homeless current of indignity? Why set a bottomless chasm between Arjuna and myself, turning the natural attachment of kinship to the dread attraction of hate? You remain speechless. Your shame permeates the vast darkness and sends invisible shivers through my limbs. Leave my question unanswered! Never explain to me what made you rob your son of his mother's love! Only tell me why you have come to-day to call me back to the ruins of a heaven wrecked by your own hands? KUNTI I am dogged by a curse more deadly than your reproaches: for, though surrounded by five sons, my heart shrivels like that of a woman deprived of her children. Through the great rent that yawned for my deserted first-born, all my life's pleasures have run to waste. On that accursed day when I belied my motherhood you could not utter a word; to-day your recreant mother implores you for generous words. Let your forgiveness burn her heart like fire and consume its sin. KARNA Mother, accept my tears! KUNTI I did not come with the hope of winning you back to my arms, but with that of restoring your rights to you. Come and receive, as a king's son, your due among your brothers. KARNA I am more truly the son of a charioteer, and do not covet the glory of greater parentage. KUNTI Be that as it may, come and win back the kingdom, which is yours by right! KARNA Must you, who once refused me a mother's love, tempt me with a kingdom? The quick bond of kindred which you severed at its root is dead, and can never grow again. Shame were mine should I hasten to call the mother of kings mother, and abandon _my_ mother in the charioteer's house! KUNTI You are great, my son! How God's punishment invisibly grows from a tiny seed to a giant life! The helpless babe disowned by his mother comes back a man through the dark maze of events to smite his brothers! KARNA Mother, have no fear! I know for certain that victory awaits the Pandavas. Peaceful and still though this night be, my heart is full of the music of a hopeless venture and baffled end. Ask me not to leave those who are doomed to defeat. Let the Pandavas win the throne, since they must: I remain with the desperate and forlorn. On the night of my birth you left me naked and unnamed to disgrace: leave me once again without pity to the calm expectation of defeat and death! 29 When like a flaming scimitar the hill stream has been sheathed in gloom by the evening, suddenly a flock of birds passes overhead, their loud-laughing wings hurling their flight like an arrow among stars. It startles a passion for speed in the heart of all motionless things; the hills seem to feel in their bosom the anguish of storm-clouds, and trees long to break their rooted shackles. For me the flight of these birds has rent a veil of stillness, and reveals an immense flutter in this deep silence. I see these hills and forests fly across time to the unknown, and darkness thrill into fire as the stars wing by. I feel in my own being the rush of the sea-crossing bird, cleaving a way beyond the limits of life and death, while the migrant world cries with a myriad voices, "Not here, but somewhere else, in the bosom of the Faraway." 30 The crowd listens in wonder to Kashi, the young singer, whose voice, like a sword in feats of skill, dances amidst hopeless tangles, cuts them to pieces, and exults. Among the hearers sits old Rajah Pratap in weary endurance. For his own life had been nourished and encircled by Barajlal's songs, like a happy land which a river laces with beauty. His rainy evenings and the still hours of autumn days spoke to his heart through Barajlal's voice, and his festive nights trimmed their lamps and tinkled their bells to those songs. When Kashi stopped for rest, Pratap smilingly winked at Barajlal and spoke to him in a whisper, "Master, now let us hear music and not this new-fangled singing, which mimics frisky kittens hunting paralysed mice." The old singer with his spotlessly white turban made a deep bow to the assembly and took his seat. His thin fingers struck the strings of his instrument, his eyes closed, and in timid hesitation his song began. The hall was large, his voice feeble, and Pratap shouted "Bravo!" with ostentation, but whispered in his ear, "Just a little louder, friend!" The crowd was restless; some yawned, some dozed, some complained of the heat. The air of the hall hummed with many-toned inattention, and the song, like a frail boat, tossed upon it in vain till it sank under the hubbub. Suddenly the old man, stricken at heart, forgot a passage, and his voice groped in agony, like a blind man at a fair for his lost leader. He tried to fill the gap with any strain that came. But the gap still yawned: and the tortured notes refused to serve the need, suddenly changed their tune, and broke into a sob. The master laid his head on his instrument, and in place of his forgotten music, there broke from him the first cry of life that a child brings into the world. Pratap touched him gently on his shoulder, and said, "Come away, our meeting is elsewhere. I know, my friend, that truth is widowed without love, and beauty dwells not with the many, nor in the moment." 31 In the youth of the world, Himalaya, you sprang from the rent breast of the earth, and hurled your burning challenges to the sun, hill after hill. Then came the mellow time when you said to yourself, "No more, no further!" and your fiery heart, that raged for the freedom of clouds, found its limits, and stood still to salute the limitless. After this check on your passion, beauty was free to play upon your breast, and trust surrounded you with the joy of flowers and birds. You sit in your solitude like a great reader, on whose lap lies open some ancient book with its countless pages of stone. What story is written there, I wonder?--is it the eternal wedding of the divine ascetic, Shiva, with Bhavani, the divine love?--the drama of the Terrible wooing the power of the Frail? 32 I feel that my heart will leave its own colour in all your scenes, O Earth, when I bid you farewell. Some notes of mine will be added to your seasons' melody, and my thoughts will breathe unrecognised through the cycle of shadows and sunshine. In far-distant days summer will come to the lovers' garden, but they will not know that their flowers have borrowed an added beauty from my songs, nor that their love for this world has been deepened by mine. 33 My eyes feel the deep peace of this sky, and there stirs through me what a tree feels when it holds out its leaves like cups to be filled with sunshine. A thought rises in my mind, like the warm breath from grass in the sun; it mingles with the gurgle of lapping water and the sigh of weary wind in village lanes,--the thought that I have lived along with the whole life of this world and have given to it my own love and sorrows. 34 I ask no reward for the songs I sang you. I shall be content if they live through the night, until Dawn, like a shepherd-maiden, calls away the stars, in alarm at the sun. But there were moments when you sang your songs to me, and as my pride knows, my Poet, you will ever remember that I listened and lost my heart. 35 In the morning, when the dew glistened upon the grass, you came and gave a push to my swing; but, sweeping from smiles to tears, I did not know you. Then came April's noon of gorgeous light, and I think you beckoned me to follow you. But when I sought your face, there passed between us the procession of flowers, and men and women flinging their songs to the south wind. Daily I passed you unheeded on the road. But on some days full of the faint smell of oleanders, when the wind was wilful among complaining palm leaves, I would stand before you wondering if you ever had been a stranger to me. 36 The day grew dim. The early evening star faltered near the edge of a grey lonely sky. I looked back and felt that the road lying behind me was infinitely removed; traced through my life, it had only served for a single journey and was never to be re-travelled. The long story of my coming hither lies there dumb, in one meandering line of dust stretching from the morning hilltop to the brink of bottomless night. I sit alone, and wonder if this road is like an instrument waiting to give up the day's lost voices in music when touched by divine fingers at nightfall. 37 Give me the supreme courage of love, this is my prayer--the courage to speak, to do, to suffer at thy will, to leave all things or be left alone. Strengthen me on errands of danger, honour me with pain, and help me climb to that difficult mood which sacrifices daily to thee. Give me the supreme confidence of love, this is my prayer--the confidence that belongs to life in death, to victory in defeat, to the power hidden in frailest beauty, to that dignity in pain which accepts hurt but disdains to return it. 38 TRANSLATIONS FROM HINDI SONGS OF JNANADAS 1 Where were your songs, my bird, when you spent your nights in the nest? Was not all your pleasure stored therein? What makes you lose your heart to the sky--the sky that is boundless? _Answer_ While I rested within bounds I was content. But when I soared into vastness I found I could sing. 2 Messenger, morning brought you, habited in gold. After sunset your song wore a tune of ascetic grey, and then came night. Your message was written in bright letters across black. Why is such splendour about you to lure the heart of one who is nothing? _Answer_ Great is the festival hall where you are to be the only guest. Therefore the letter to you is written from sky to sky, and I, the proud servant, bring the invitation with all ceremony. 3 I had travelled all day and was tired, then I bowed my head towards thy kingly court still far away. The night deepened, a longing burned in my heart; whatever the words I sang, pain cried through them, for even my songs thirsted. O my Lover, my Beloved, my best in all the world! When time seemed lost in darkness thy hand dropped its sceptre to take up the lute and strike the uttermost chords; and my heart sang out, O my Lover, my Beloved, my best in all the world! Ah, who is this whose arms enfold me? Whatever I have to leave let me leave, and whatever I have to bear let me bear. Only let me walk with thee, O my Lover, my Beloved, my best in all the world! Descend at whiles from thine audience hall, come down amid joys and sorrows; hide in all forms and delights, in love and in my heart; there sing thy songs, O my Lover, my Beloved, my best in all the world! THE END 
15477	----	to John B. Hare at www.sacred-texts.com The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 13 ANUSASANA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned at sacred-texts.com, 2005. Proofed by John Bruno Hare, January 2005. THE MAHABHARATA ANUSASANA PARVA PART I SECTION I (Anusasanika Parva) OM! HAVING BOWED down unto Narayana, and Nara the foremost of male beings, and unto the goddess Saraswati, must the word Jaya be uttered. "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, tranquillity of mind has been said to be subtile and of diverse forms. I have heard all thy discourses, but still tranquillity of mind has not been mine. In this matter, various means of quieting the mind have been related (by thee), O sire, but how can peace of mind be secured from only a knowledge of the different kinds of tranquillity, when I myself have been the instrument of bringing about all this? Beholding thy body covered with arrows and festering with bad sores, I fail to find, O hero, any peace of mind, at the thought of the evils I have wrought. Beholding thy body, O most valiant of men, bathed in blood, like a hill overrun with water from its springs, I am languishing with grief even as the lotus in the rainy season. What can be more painful than this, that thou, O grandsire, hast been brought to this plight on my account by my people fighting against their foes on the battle-field? Other princes also, with their sons and kinsmen, having met with destruction on my account, alas, what can be more painful than this. Tell us, O prince, what destiny awaits us and the sons of Dhritarashtra, who, driven by fate and anger, have done this abhorrent act. O lord of men, I think the son of Dhritarashtra is fortunate in that he doth not behold thee in this state. But I, who am the cause of thy death as well as of that of our friends, am denied all peace of mind by beholding thee on the bare earth in this sorry condition. The wicked Duryodhana, the most infamous of his race, has, with all his troops and his brothers, perished in battle, in the observance of Kshatriya duties. That wicked-souled wight does not see thee lying on the ground. Verily, for this reason, I would deem death to be preferable to life. O hero that never swervest from virtue, had I with my brothers met with destruction ere this at the hands of our enemies on the battle-field, I would not have found thee in this pitiful plight, thus pierced with arrows. Surely, O prince, the Maker had created is to become perpetrators of evil deeds. O king, if thou wishest to do me good, do thou then instruct me in such a way that I may be cleansed of this sin in even another world." "'Bhishma replied, "Why, O fortunate one, dost thou consider thy soul, which is dependent (on God and Destiny and Time) to be the cause of thy actions? The manifestation of its inaction is subtle and imperceptible to the senses. In this connection is cited the ancient story of the conversation between Mrityu and Gautami with Kala and the Fowler and the serpent. There was, O son of Kunti, an old lady of the name of Gautami, who was possessed of great patience and tranquillity of mind. One day she found her son dead in consequence of having been bitten by a serpent. An angry fowler, by name Arjunaka, bound the serpent with a string and brought it before Gautami. He then said to her,--'This wretched serpent has been the cause of thy son's death, O blessed lady. Tell me quickly how this wretch is to be destroyed. Shall I throw it into the fire or shall I hack it into pieces? This infamous destroyer of a child does not deserve to live longer.' "'"Gautami replied, 'Do thou, O Arjunaka of little understanding, release this serpent. It doth not deserve death at thy hands. Who is so foolish as to disregard the inevitable lot that awaits him and burdening himself with such folly sink into sin? Those that have made themselves light by the practice of virtuous deeds, manage to cross the sea of the world even as a ship crosses the ocean. But those that have made themselves heavy with sin sink into the bottom, even as an arrow thrown into the water. By killing the serpent, this my boy will not be restored to life, and by letting it live, no harm will be caused to thee. Who would go to the interminable regions of Death by slaying this living creature?' "'"The fowler said, 'I know, O lady that knowest the difference between right and wrong, that the great are afflicted at the afflictions of all creatures. But these words which thou hast spoken are fraught with instruction for only a self-contained person (and not for one plunged in sorrow). Therefore, I must kill this serpent. Those who value peace of mind, assign everything to the course of Time as the cause, but practical men soon assuage their grief (by revenge). People through constant delusion, fear loss of beatitude (in the next world for acts like these). Therefore, O lady, assuage thy grief by having this serpent destroyed (by me).' "'"Gautami replied, 'People like us are never afflicted by (such misfortune). Good men have their souls always intent on virtue. The death of the boy was predestined: therefore, I am unable to approve of the destruction of this serpent. Brahmanas do not harbour resentment, because resentment leads to pain. Do thou, O good man, forgive and release this serpent out of compassion.' "'"The fowler replied, 'Let us earn great and inexhaustible merit hereafter by killing (this creature), even as a man acquires great merit, and confers it on his victim sacrificed as well, by sacrifice upon the altar. Merit is acquired by killing an enemy: by killing this despicable creature, thou shalt acquire great and true merit hereafter.' "'"Gautami replied, 'What good is there in tormenting and killing an enemy, and what good is won by not releasing an enemy in our power? Therefore, O thou of benign countenance, why should we not forgive this serpent and try to earn merit by releasing it?' "'"The fowler replied, 'A great number (of creatures) ought to be protected from (the wickedness of) this one, instead of this single creature being protected (in preference to many). Virtuous men abandon the vicious (to their doom): do thou, therefore, kill this wicked creature.' "'"Gautami replied, 'By killing this serpent, O fowler, my son will not be restored to life, nor do I see that any other end will be attained by its death: therefore, do thou, O fowler, release this living creature of a serpent.' "'"The fowler said, 'By killing Vritra, Indra secured the best portion (of sacrificial offerings), and by destroying a sacrifice Mahadeva secured his share of sacrificial offerings: do thou, therefore, destroy this serpent immediately without any misgivings in thy mind!'" "'Bhishma continued, "The high-souled Gautami, although repeatedly incited by the fowler for the destruction of the serpent did not bend her mind to that sinful act. The serpent, painfully bound with the cord, sighing a little and maintaining its composure with great difficulty, then uttered these words slowly, in a human voice. "'"The serpent said, 'O foolish Arjunaka, what fault is there of mine? I have no will of my own, and am not independent. Mrityu sent me on this errand. By his direction have I bitten this child, and not out of any anger or choice on my part. Therefore, if there be any sin in this, O fowler, the sin is his.' "'"The fowler said, 'If thou hast done this evil, led thereto by another, the sin is thine also as thou art an instrument in the act. As in the making of an earthen vessel the potter's wheel and rod and other things are all regarded as causes, so art thou, O serpent, (cause in the production of this effect). He that is guilty deserves death at my hands. Thou, O serpent, art guilty. Indeed, thou confessest thyself so in this matter!' "'"The serpent said, 'As all these, viz., the potter's wheel, rod, and other things, are not independent causes, even so I am not an independent cause. Therefore, this is no fault of mine, as thou shouldst grant. Shouldst thou think otherwise, then these are to be considered as causes working in unison with one another. For thus working with one other, a doubt arises regarding their relation as cause and effect. Such being the case, it is no fault of mine, nor do I deserve death on this account, nor am I guilty of any sin. Or, if thou thinkest that there is sin (in even such causation), the sin lies in the aggregate of causes.' "'"The fowler said, 'If thou art neither the prime cause nor the agent in this matter, thou art still the cause of the death (of this child). Therefore, thou dost deserve death in my opinion. If, O serpent, thou thinkest that when an evil act is done, the doer is not implicated therein, then there can be no cause in this matter; but having done this, verily thou deservest death. What more dost thou think?' "'"The serpent said, 'Whether any cause exists or not,[1] no effect is produced without an (intermediate) act. Therefore, causation being of no moment in either case, my agency only as the cause (in this matter) ought to be considered in its proper bearings. If, O fowler, thou thinkest me to be the cause in truth, then the guilt of this act of killing a living being rests on the shoulders of another who incited me to this end.'[2] "'"The fowler said, 'Not deserving of life, O foolish one, why dost thou bandy so many words, O wretch of a serpent? Thou deservest death at my hands. Thou hast done an atrocious act by killing this infant.' "'"The serpent said, 'O fowler, as the officiating priests at a sacrifice do not acquire the merit of the act by offering oblations of clarified butter to the fire, even so should I be regarded with respect as to the result in this connection.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The serpent directed by Mrityu having said this, Mrityu himself appeared there and addressing the serpent spoke thus. "'"Mrityu said, 'Guided by Kala, I, O serpent, sent thee on this errand, and neither art thou nor am I the cause of this child's death. Even as the clouds are tossed hither and thither by the wind, I am like the clouds, O serpent, influenced by Kala. All attitudes appertaining to Sattwa or Rajas, or Tamas, are provoked by Kala, and operate in all creatures. All creatures, mobile and immobile, in heaven, or earth, are influenced by Kala. The whole universe, O serpent, is imbued with this same influence of Kala. All acts in this world and all abstentions, as also all their modifications, are said to be influenced by Kala. Surya, Soma, Vishnu, Water, Wind, the deity of a hundred sacrifices, Fire, Sky, Earth, Mitra and Parjanya, Aditi, and the Vasus, Rivers and Oceans, all existent and non-existent objects, are created and destroyed by Kala. Knowing this, why dost thou, O serpent, consider me to be guilty? If any fault attaches to me in this, thou also wouldst be to blame.' "'"The serpent said, 'I do not, O Mrityu, blame thee, nor do I absolve thee from all blame. I only aver that I am directed and influenced (in my actions) by thee. If any blame attaches to Kala, or, if it be not desirable to attach any blame to him, it is not for me to scan the fault. We have no right to do so. As it is incumbent on me to absolve myself from this blame, so it is my duty to see that no blame attaches to Mrityu.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Then the serpent, addressing Arjunaka, said--'Thou hast listened to what Mrityu has said. Therefore, it is not proper for thee to torment me, who am guiltless, by tying me with this cord.' "'"The fowler said, 'I have listened to thee, O serpent, as well as to the words of Mrityu, but these, O serpent, do not absolve thee from all blame. Mrityu and thyself are the causes of the child's death. I consider both of you to be the cause and I do not call that to be the cause which is not truly so. Accursed be the wicked and vengeful Mrityu that causes affliction to the good. Thee too I shall kill that art sinful and engaged in sinful acts!' "'"Mrityu said, 'We both are not free agents, but are dependent on Kala, and ordained to do our appointed work. Thou shouldst not find fault with us if thou dost consider this matter thoroughly.' "'"The fowler said, 'If ye both, O serpent and Mrityu, be dependent on Kala, I am curious to know how pleasure (arising from doing good) and anger (arising from doing evil) are caused.' "'"Mrityu said, 'Whatever is done is done under the influence of Kala. I have said it before, O fowler, that Kala is the cause of all and that for this reason we both, acting under the inspiration of Kala, do our appointed work and therefore, O fowler, we two do not deserve censure from thee in any way!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Then Kala arrived at that scene of disputation on this point of morality, and spoke thus to the serpent and Mrityu and the fowler Arjunaka assembled together. "'"Kala said, 'Neither Mrityu, nor this serpent, nor I, O fowler, am guilty of the death of any creature. We are merely the immediate exciting causes of the event. O Arjunaka, the Karma of this child formed the exciting cause of our action in this matter. There was no other cause by which this child came by its death. It was killed as a result of its own Karma. It has met with death as the result of its Karma in the past. Its Karma has been the cause of its destruction. We all are subject to the influence of our respective Karma. Karma is an aid to salvation even as sons are, and Karma also is an indicator of virtue and vice in man. We urge one another even as acts urge one another. As men make from a lump of clay whatever they wish to make, even so do men attain to various results determined by Karma. As light and shadow are related to each other, so are men related to Karma through their own actions. Therefore, neither art thou, nor am I, nor Mrityu, nor the serpent, nor this old Brahmana lady, is the cause of this child's death. He himself is the cause here.' Upon Kala, O king, expounding the matter in this way, Gautami, convinced in her mind that men suffer according to their actions, spoke thus to Arjunaka. "'"Gautami said, 'Neither Kala, nor Mrityu, nor the serpent, is the cause in this matter. This child has met with death as the result of its own Karma. I too so acted (in the past) that my son has died (as its consequence). Let now Kala and Mrityu retire from this place, and do thou too, O Arjunaka, release this serpent.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Then Kala and Mrityu and the serpent went back to their respective destinations, and Gautami became consoled in mind as also the fowler. Having heard all this, O king, do thou forego all grief, and attain to peace of mind. Men attain to heaven or hell as the result of their own Karma. This evil has neither been of thy own creation, nor of Duryodhana's. Know this that these lords of Earth have all been slain (in this war) as a result of acts of Kala."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Having heard all this, the powerful and virtuous Yudhishthira became consoled in mind, and again enquired as follows.'" SECTION II "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O wisest of men, O thou that art learned in all the scriptures, I have listened to this great story, O foremost of intelligent men. I am desirous of again hearing the recital of some history full of religious instruction, and it behoves thee to gratify me. O lord of Earth, tell me if any householder has ever succeeded in conquering Mrityu by the practice of virtue. Do thou recite this to me with all details!" "'Bhishma said, "This ancient history is recited as an illustration of the subject of the conquest by a householder, over Mrityu, through the practice of virtue. The Prajapati Manu had a son, O king, of the name of the Ikshwaku. Of that king, illustrious as Surya, were born a hundred sons. His tenth son, O Bharata, was named Dasaswa, and this virtuous prince of infallible prowess became the king of Mahismati. Dasaswa's son, O king, was a righteous prince whose mind was constantly devoted to the practice of truth and charity and devotion. He was known by the name of Madiraswa and ruled over the Earth as her lord. He was constantly devoted to the study of the Vedas as also of the science of arms. Madiraswa's son was the king named Dyutimat who possessed great good fortune and power and strength and energy. Dyutimat's son was the highly devout and pious king who was famous in all the worlds under the name of Suvira. His soul was intent on religion and he possessed wealth like another Indra, the lord of the deities. Suvira too had a son who was invincible in battle, and who was the best of all warriors and known by the name of Sudurjaya. And Durjya too, possessed of a body like that of Indra, had a son who beamed with splendour like that of fire. He was the great monarch named Duryodhana who was one of the foremost of royal sages. Indra used to pour rain profusely in the kingdom of this monarch, who never fled from the battlefield and was possessed of valour like unto Indra himself. The cities and the kingdom of this king were filled with riches and gems and cattle and grain of various kinds. There was no miser in his kingdom nor any person afflicted with distress or poverty. Nor was there in his kingdom any person that was weak in body or afflicted with disease. That king was very clever, smooth in speech, without envy, a master of his passions, of a righteous soul, full of compassion, endued with prowess, and not given to boasting. He performed sacrifices, and was self-restrained and intelligent, devoted to Brahmanas and Truth. He never humiliated others, and was charitable, and learned in the Vedas and the Vedanta. The celestial river Narmada, auspicious and sacred and of cool waters, in her own nature, O Bharata, courted him. He begot upon that river, a lotus-eyed daughter, by name Sudarsana, who was, O king, endued with great beauty. No creature, O Yudhisthira, had ever been born before among womankind, that was possessed of such beauty as that excellent damsel who was the daughter of Duryodhana. The god Agni himself courted the beautiful princess Sudarsana, and taking the shape of a Brahmana, O monarch, sought her hand from the king. The king was unwilling to give his daughter in marriage to the Brahmana who was poor and not of the same rank with himself. Thereupon Agni vanished from his great sacrifice. The king, grieved at heart, then addressed the Brahmanas, saying,--'Of what sin have I, ye excellent Brahmanas, or you, been guilty, that Agni should disappear from this sacrifice, even as good done unto wicked men disappears from their estimation. Great, indeed, must that sin of ours be for which Agni has thus disappeared. Either must the sin be yours, or, it must be mine. Do you fully investigate the matter.'--Then hearing the king's words, O foremost prince of Bharata's race, the Brahmanas, restraining speech, sought with concentrated faculties the protection of the god of fire. The divine carrier of oblations, resplendent as the autumnal Sun, appeared before them, enveloping his self in glorious refulgence. The high-souled Agni then addressed those excellent Brahmanas, saying,--'I seek the daughter of Duryodhana for my own self.' At this all those Brahmanas were struck with wonder, and rising on the morrow, they related to the king what had been said by the fire-god. The wise monarch, hearing the words of those utterers of Brahma, was delighted at heart, and said,--'Be it so.'--The king craved a boon of the illustrious fire-god as the marriage dower,--'Do thou, O Agni, deign to remain always with us here.'--'Be it so'--said the divine Agni to that lord of Earth. For this reason Agni has always been present in the kingdom of Mahismati to this day, and was seen by Sahadeva in course of his conquering expedition to the south. Then the king gave his daughter, dressed in new garments and decked with jewels, to the high-souled deity, and Agni too accepted, according to Vedic rites, the princess Sudarsana as his bride, even as he accepts libations of clarified butter at sacrifices, Agni was well pleased with her appearance, her beauty, grace, character, and nobility of birth, and was minded to beget offspring upon her. And a son by Agni, of the name of Sudarsana, was soon born of her. Sudarsana also was, in appearance, as beautiful as the full moon, and even in his childhood he attained to a knowledge of the supreme and everlasting Brahma. There was also a king of the name of Oghavat, who was the grandfather of Nriga. He had a daughter of the name of Oghavati, and a son too of the name of Ogharatha born unto him. King Oghavat gave his daughter Oghavati, beautiful as a goddess, to the learned Sudarsana for wife. Sudarsana, O king, leading the life of a householder with Oghavati, used to dwell in Kurukshetra with her. This intelligent prince of blazing energy took the vow, O lord, of conquering Death by leading the life of even a householder. The son of Agni, O king, said to Oghavati,--'Do thou never act contrary to (the wishes of) those that seek our hospitality. Thou shouldst make no scruple about the means by which guests are to be welcomed, even if thou have to offer thy own person. O beautiful one, this vow is always present in the mind, since for householders, there is no higher virtue than hospitality accorded to guests. Do thou always bear this in mind without ever doubting it, if my words be any authority with thee. O sinless and blessed one, if thou hast any faith in me, do thou never disregard a guest whether I be at thy side or at a distance from thee!' Unto him, with hands clasped and placed on her head, Oghavati replied, saying,--'I shall leave nothing undone of what thou commandest me.'--Then Mrityu, O king, desiring to over-reach Sudarsana, began to watch him for finding out his laches. On a certain occasion, when the son of Agni went out to fetch firewood from the forest, a graceful Brahmana sought the hospitality of Oghavati with these words:--'O beautiful lady, if thou hast any faith in the virtue of hospitality as prescribed for householders, then I would request thee to extend the rites of hospitality to me to-day.'--The princess of great fame, thus addressed by that Brahmana, O king, welcomed him according to the rites prescribed in the Vedas. Having offered him a seat, and water to wash his feet, she enquired, saying,--'What is thy business? What can I offer thee?' The Brahmana said unto her,--'My business is with thy person, O blessed one. Do thou act accordingly without any hesitation in thy mind. If the duties prescribed for householders be acceptable to thee, do thou, O princess, gratify me by offering up thy person to me.'--Though tempted by the princess with offers of diverse other things, the Brahmana, however, did not ask for any other gift than the offer of her own person. Seeing him resolved, that lady, remembering the directions which had before been given to her by her husband, but overcome with shame, said to that excellent Brahmana,--'Be it so.'--Remembering the words of her husband who was desirous of acquiring the virtue of householders, she cheerfully approached the regenerate Rishi. Meanwhile, the son of Agni, having collected his firewood, returned to his home. Mrityu, with his fierce and inexorable nature, was constantly by his side, even as one attends upon one's devoted friend. When the son of Pavaka returned to his own hermitage, he called Oghavati by name, and (receiving no answer) repeatedly, exclaimed,--'Whether art thou gone?'--But the chaste lady, devoted to her husband, being then locked in the arms of that Brahmana, gave no reply to her husband. Indeed, that chaste woman, considering herself contaminated became speechless, overcome with shame. Sudarsana, addressing her again, exclaimed,--'Where can my chaste wife be? Whither has she gone? Nothing can be of greater moment to me than this (her disappearance). Why does not that simple and truthful lady, devoted to her husband, alas, answer to my call today as she used to do before with sweet smiles?' Then that Brahmana, who was within the hut, thus replied to Sudarsana,--'Do thou learn, O son of Pavaka, that a Brahmana guest has arrived, and though tempted by this thy wife with diverse other offers of welcome, I have, O best of Brahmanas, desired only her person, and this fair-faced lady is engaged in welcoming me with due rites. Thou art at liberty to do whatever thou thinkest to be suitable to this occasion.' Mrityu, armed with the iron club, pursued the Rishi at that moment, desirous of compassing the destruction of one that would, he thought, deviate from his promise. Sudarsana was struck with wonder, but casting off all jealousy and anger by look, word, deed, or thought, said,--'Do thou enjoy thyself, O Brahmana. It is a great pleasure to me. A householder obtain the highest merit by honouring a guest. It is said by the learned that, as regards the householder, there is no higher merit than what results unto him from a guest departing from his house after having been duly honoured by him. My life, my wife, and whatever other worldly possessions I have, are all dedicated to the use of my guests. Even this is the vow that I have taken. As I have truly made this statement, by that truth, O Brahmana, I shall attain to the knowledge of Self. O foremost of virtuous men, the five elements, viz., fire, air, earth, water, and sky, and the mind, the intellect and the Soul, and time and space and the ten organs of sense, are all present in the bodies of men, and always witness the good and evil deeds that men do. This truth has today been uttered by me, and let the gods bless me for it or destroy me if I have spoken falsely.' At this, O Bharata, there arose in all directions, in repeated echoes, a voice, crying,--'This is true, this is not false.' Then that Brahmana came out of the hovel, and like the wind rising and encompassing both Earth and sky, and making the three worlds echo with Vedic sounds, and calling that virtuous man by name, and congratulating him said,--'O sinless one, I am Dharma. All glory to thee. I came here, O truth-loving one, to try thee, and I am well pleased with thee by knowing thee to be virtuous. Thou hast subdued and conquered Mrityu who always has pursued thee, seeking thy laches. O best of men, no one in the three worlds has the ability to insult, even with looks, this chaste lady devoted to her husband, far less to touch her person. She has been protected from defilement by thy virtue and by her own chastity. There can be nothing contrary to what this proud lady will say. This utterer of Brahma, endued with austere penances, shall, for the salvation of the world, be metamorphosed into a mighty river. And thou shalt attain to all the worlds in this thy body, and as truly as the science of Yoga is within her control, this highly blessed lady will follow thee with only half of her corporeal self, and with the other half will she be celebrated as the river Oghavati! And thou shalt attain with her to all the worlds that acquired through penances. Those eternal and everlasting worlds from which none cometh back will be attained by thee even in this gross body of thine. Thou hast conquered Death, and attained to the highest of all felicities, and by thy own power (of mind), attaining to the speed of thought, thou hast risen above the power of the five elements! By thus adhering to the duties of a householder, thou hast conquered thy passions, desires, and anger, and this princess, O prince of virtuous men has, by serving thee, conquered affliction, desire, illusion, enmity and lassitude of mind!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Then the glorious Vasava (the lord of the gods), riding in a fine chariot drawn by a thousand white horses, approached that Brahmana. Death and Soul, all the worlds, all the elements, intellect, mind, time, and space as also desire and wrath, were all conquered. Therefore, O best of men, do thou bear this in mind, that to a householder there is no higher divinity than the guest. It is said by the learned that the blessings of an honoured guest are more efficacious than the merit of a hundred sacrifices. Whenever a deserving guest seeks the hospitality of a householder and is not honoured by him, he takes away (with him) all the virtues of the latter giving him his sins (in return). I have now recited to thee, my son, this excellent story as to how Death was conquered of old by a householder. The recital of this excellent story confers glory, fame, and longevity (upon those that listen to it). The man that seeks worldly prosperity should consider it as efficacious in removing all evil. And, O Bharata, the learned man that daily recites this story of the life of Sudarsana attains to the regions of the blessed."'" SECTION III "'Yudhishthira said, "If, O prince, Brahmanahood be so difficult of attainment by the three classes (Kshatriyas, Vaisyas and Sudras), how then did the high souled Viswamitra, O king, though a Kshatriya (by birth), attain to the status of a Brahmana? I desire to know this, O sire. Therefore, do thou truly relate this matter to me. That powerful man, O sire, by virtue of his austerities, destroyed in a moment the hundred sons of the high-souled Vasishtha. While under the influence of anger, he created numerous evil spirits and Rakshasas of mighty vigour and resembling the great destroyer Kala himself. The great and learned race of Kusika, numbering hundreds of regenerate sages and belauded by the Brahmanas, was founded in this world of men by him. Sunasepha of austere penances, the son of Richika, having been sought to be slain as an animal in the great sacrifice of Amvarisha, obtained his deliverance through Viswamitra. Harischandra, having pleased the gods at a sacrifice, became a son of the wise Viswamitra. For not having honoured their eldest brother Devarat, whom Viswamitra got as a son from the gods, the other fifty brothers of his were cursed, and all of them became Chandalas. Trisanku, the son of Ikshwaku, through the curse of Vasishtha became a Chandala, and when abandoned by his friends, and remaining suspended with his head downwards in the lower regions, was translated to heaven at the pleasure of Viswamitra. Viswamitra had a large river, by name Kausika, that was frequented by celestial Rishis. This sacred and auspicious stream was frequented by the gods and regenerate Rishis. For disturbing his devotions, the famous celestial nymph Rambha of fine bracelets, was cursed and metamorphosed into a rock. Through fear of Viswamitra the glorious Vasishtha, in olden times, binding himself with creepers, threw himself down into a river and again rose released from his bonds. In consequence of this, that large and sacred river become thenceforth celebrated by the name of Vipasa.[3] He prayed to the glorious and puissant Indra who was pleased with him and absolved him from a curse.[4] Remaining on the northern side of the firmament, he sheds his lustre from a position in the midst of the seven regenerate Rishis,[5] and Dhruva the son of Uttanpada[6]. These are his achievements as well as many others. O descendant of Kuru, as they were performed by a Kshatriya, my curiosity has been roused in this matter. Therefore, O foremost one of Bharata's race, do thou relate this matter to me truly. How without casting off his corporeal frame and taking another tenement of flesh could he become a Brahmana? Do thou, O sire, truly relate this matter to me as thou hast related to me the story of Matanga. Matanga was born as a Chandala,[7] and could not attain to Brahmanahood, (with all his austerities) but how could this man attain to the status of a Brahmana?"'" SECTION IV "'Bhishma said, "Listen truly in detail, O son of Pritha, how in olden times Viswamitra attained to the status of a Brahmana Rishi. There was, O foremost of Bharata's descendants, in the race of Bharata, a king of the name of Ajamida, who performed many sacrifices and was the best of all virtuous men. His son was the great king named Jahnu. Ganga was the daughter of this high-minded prince. The farfamed and equally virtuous Sindhudwipa was the son of this prince. From Sindhudwipa sprung the great royal sage Valakaswa. His son was named Vallabha who was like a second Dharma in embodied form. His son again was Kusika who was refulgent with glory like unto the thousand-eyed Indra. Kusika's son was the illustrious King Gadhi who, being childless and desiring to have a son born unto him, repaired to the forest. Whilst living there, a daughter was born unto him. She was called Satyavati by name, and in beauty of appearance she had no equal on Earth. The illustrious son of Chyavana, celebrated by the name of Richika, of the race of Bhrigu, endued with austere penances, sought the hand of this lady. Gadhi, the destroyer of his enemies, thinking him to be poor, did not bestow her in marriage upon the high-souled Richika. But when the latter, thus dismissed, was going away, the excellent king, addressing him said,--'If thou givest me a marriage dower thou shalt have my daughter for thy wife.' "'"Richika said, 'What dower, O king, shall I offer thee for the hand of thy daughter? Tell me truly, without feeling any hesitation in the matter.' Gadhi said,--'O descendant of Bhrigu, do thou give me a thousand horses fleet as the wind, and possessing the hue of moon-beams, and each having one ear black.'" "'Bhishma said, "Then that mighty son of Chyavana who was the foremost of Bhrigu's race, besought the deity Varuna, the son of Aditi, who was the lord of all the waters.--'O best of gods, I pray to thee to give me a thousand horses, all endued with the speed of the wind and with complexion as effulgent as the moon's, but each having one ear black.' The god Varuna, the son of Aditi, said to that excellent scion of Bhrigu's race,--'Be it so. Wheresoever thou shalt seek, the horses shalt arise (in thy presence).'--As soon as Richika thought of them, there arose from the waters of Ganga thousand high-mettled horses, as lustrous in complexion as the moon. Not far from Kanyakubja, the sacred bank of Ganga is still famous among men as Aswatirtha in consequence of the appearance of those horses at that place. Then Richika, that best of ascetics, pleased in mind, gave those thousand excellent horses unto Gadhi as the marriage-dower. King Gadhi, filled with wonder and fearing to be cursed, gave his daughter, bedecked with jewels, unto that son of Bhrigu. That foremost of regenerate Rishis accepted her hand in marriage according to the prescribed rites. The princess too was well-pleased at finding herself the wife of that Brahmana. That foremost of regenerate Rishis, O Bharata, was well pleased with her conduct and expressed a wish to grant her boon. The princess, O excellent king, related this to her mother. The mother addressed the daughter that stood before her with down-cast eyes, saving,--'It behoves thee, O my daughter, to secure a favour for me also from thy husband. That sage of austere penances is capable of granting a boon to me, the boon, viz. of the birth of a son to me.'--Then, O king, returning quickly to her husband Richika, the princess related to him all that had been desired by her mother. Richika said,--'By my favour, O blessed one, she will soon give birth to a son possessed of every virtue. May thy request be fulfilled. Of thee too shall be born a mighty and glorious son who, endued with virtue, shall perpetuate my race. Truly do I say this unto thee! When you two shall bathe in your season, she shall embrace a peepul tree, and thou, O excellent lady, shalt likewise embrace a fig tree, and by so doing shall ye attain the object of your desire. O sweetly-smiling lady, both she and you shall have to partake of these two sacrificial offerings (charu)[8] consecrated with hymns, and then shall ye obtain sons (as desired).'--At this, Satyavati, delighted at heart, told her mother all that had been said by Richika as also of the two balls of charu. Then the mother, addressing her daughter Satyavati, said:--'O daughter, as I am deserving of greater consideration from thee than thy husband, do thou obey my words. The charu, duly consecrated with hymns, which thy husband has given to thee, do thou give unto me and thyself take the one that has been prescribed for me. O sweetly-smiling one of blameless character, if thou hast any respect for my word, let us change the trees respectively designed for us. Every one desires to possess an excellent and stainless being for his own son. The glorious Richika too must have acted from a similar motive in this matter, as will appear in the end. For this reason, O beautiful girl, my heart inclines towards thy charu, and thy tree, and thou too shouldst consider how to secure an excellent brother for thyself.'--The mother and the daughter Satyavati having acted in this way, they both, O Yudhishthira, became big with child. And that great Rishi, the excellent descendant of Bhrigu, finding his wife quick with child, was pleased at heart, and addressing her, said,--'O excellent lady, thou hast not done well in exchanging the charu as will soon become apparent. It is also clear that thou hast changed the trees. I had placed the entire accumulated energy of Brahma in thy charu and Kshatriya energy in the charu of thy mother. I had so ordered that thou wouldst give birth to a Brahmana whose virtues would be famous throughout the three worlds, and that she (thy mother) would give birth to an excellent Kshatriya. But now, O excellent lady, that thou hast reversed the order (of the charu) so, thy mother will give birth to an excellent Brahmana and thou too, O excellent lady, will give birth to a Kshatriya terrible in action. Thou hast not done will, O lady, by acting thus out of affection for thy mother.'--Hearing this, O king the excellent lady Satyavati, struck with sorrow, fell upon the ground like a beautiful creeper cut in twain. Regaining her senses and bowing unto her lord with head (bent), the daughter of Gadhi said to her husband, that foremost one of Bhrigu's race,--'O regenerate Rishi, O thou that art foremost amongst those versed in Brahma, do thou take pity on me, thy wife, who is thus appeasing thee and so order that a Kshatriya son may not be born unto me. Let my grandson be such a one as will be famous for his terrible achievements, if it be thy desire, but not my son, O Brahmana. Do thou confer this favour on me.'--'Be it so,'--said that man of austere penances to his wife and then, O king, she gave birth to a blessed son named Jamadagni. The celebrated wife of Gadhi too gave birth to the regenerate Rishi Viswamitra versed in the knowledge of Brahma, by favour of that Rishi. The highly devout Viswamitra, though a Kshatriya, attained to the state of a Brahmana and became the founder of a race of Brahmanas. His sons became high-souled progenitors of many races of Brahmanas who were devoted to austere penances, learned in the Vedas, and founders of many clans. The adorable Madhuchcchanda and the mighty Devrat, Akshina, Sakunta, Vabhru, Kalapatha, the celebrated Yajnavalkya, Sthula of high vows, Uluka, Mudgala, and the sage Saindhavayana, the illustrious Valgujangha and the great Rishi Galeva, Ruchi, the celebrated Vajra, as also Salankayana, Liladhya and Narada, the one known as Kurchamuka, and Vahuli, Mushala, as also Vakshogriva, Anghrika, Naikadrik, Silayupa, Sita, Suchi, Chakraka, Marrutantavya, Vataghna, Aswalayana, and Syamayana, Gargya, and Javali, as also Susruta, Karishi, Sangsrutya, and Para Paurava, and Tantu, the great sage Kapila, Tarakayana, Upagahana, Asurayani, Margama, Hiranyksha, Janghari, Bhavravayani, and Suti, Bibhuti, Suta, Surakrit, Arani, Nachika, Champeya, Ujjayana, Navatantu, Vakanakha, Sayanya, Yati, Ambhoruha, Amatsyasin, Srishin, Gardhavi Urjjayoni, Rudapekahin, and the great Rishi Naradin,--these Munis were all sons of Viswamitra and were versed in the knowledge of Brahma. O king Yudhishthira, the highly austere and devout Viswamitra, although a Kshatriya (by descent), became a Brahmana for Richika having placed the energy of supreme Brahma (in the charu). O foremost prince of Bharata's race, I have now related to you, with all details, the story of the birth of Viswamitra who was possessed of energy of the sun, the moon, and the fire-god. O best of kings, if thou hast any doubt with regard to any other matter, do thou let me know it, so that I may remove it.'" SECTION V "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou that knowest the truths of religion, I wish to hear of the merits of compassion, and of the characteristics of devout men. Do thou, O sire, describe them to me." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, this ancient legend, the story of Vasava and the high-minded Suka, is cited as an illustration. In the territories of the king of Kasi, a fowler, having poisoned arrows with him went out of his village on a hunting excursion in search of antelopes. Desirous of obtaining meat, when in a big forest in pursuit of the chase, he discovered a drove of antelopes not far from him, and discharged his arrow at one of them. The arrows of that fowler of irresistible arms, discharged for the destruction of the antelope, missed its aim and pierced a mighty forest-tree. The tree, violently pierced with that arrow tipped with virulent poison, withered away, shedding its leaves and fruits. The tree having thus withered a parrot that had lived in a hollow of its trunk all his life, did not leave his nest out of affection for the lord of the forest. Motionless and without food silent and sorrowful, that grateful and virtuous parrot also withered away with the tree. The conqueror of Paka (Indra) was struck with wonder upon finding that high-souled, and generous-hearted bird thus uninfluenced by misery or happiness and possessing extraordinary resolution. Then the thought arose in Sakra's mind,--'How could this bird come to possess humane and generous feelings which are impossible in one belonging to the world of lower animals? Perchance, there is nothing wonderful in the matter, for all creatures are seen to evince kindly and generous feelings towards others.'--Assuming then the shape of a Brahmana, Sakra descended on the Earth and addressing the bird, said,--'O Suka, O best of birds, the grand-daughter (Suki) of Daksha has become blessed (by having thee as her offspring). I ask thee, for what reason dost thou not leave this withered tree?'--Thus questioned, the Suka bowed unto him and thus replied:--'Welcome to thee O chief of the gods, I have recognised thee by the merit of my austere penances'--'Well-done, well-done!'--exclaimed the thousand-eyed deity. Then the latter praised him in his mind, saying,--'O, how wonderful is the knowledge which he possesses.'--Although the destroyer of Vala knew that parrot to be of a highly virtuous character and meritorious in action, he still enquired of him about the reason of his affection for the tree. 'This tree is withered and it is without leaves and fruits and is unfit to be the refuge of birds. Why dost thou then cling to it? This forest, too, is vast and in this wilderness there are numerous other fine trees whose hollows are covered with leaves and which thou canst choose freely and to thy heart's content. O patient one exercising due discrimination in thy wisdom, do thou forsake this old tree that is dead and useless and shorn of all its leaves and no longer capable of any good.'" "'Bhishma said, "The virtuous Suka, hearing these words of Sakra, heaved a deep sigh and sorrowfully replied unto him, saying--'O consort of Sachi, and chief of the gods, the ordinances of the deities are always to be obeyed. Do thou listen to the reason of the matter in regard to which thou hast questioned me. Here, within this tree, was I born, and here in this tree have I acquired all the good traits of my character, and here in this tree was I protected in my infancy from the assaults of my enemies. O sinless one, why art thou, in thy kindness, tampering with the principle of my conduct in life? I am compassionate, and devoutly intent on virtue, and steadfast in conduct. Kindliness of feeling is the great test of virtue amongst the good, and this same compassionate and humane feeling is the source of perennial felicity to the virtuous. All the gods question thee to remove their doubts in religion, and for this reason, O lord, thou hast been placed in sovereignty over them all. It behoves thee not, O thousand-eyed one, to advise me now to abandon this tree for ever. When it was capable of good, it supported my life. How can I forsake it now?'--The virtuous destroyer of Paka, pleased with these well-meant words of the parrot, thus said to him:--'I am gratified with thy humane and compassionate disposition. Do thou ask a boon of me.'--At this, the compassionate parrot craved this boon of him, saying,--'Let this tree revive.'--Knowing the great attachment of the parrot to that tree and his high character, Indra, well-pleased, caused the tree to be quickly sprinkled over with nectar. Then that tree became replenished and attained to exquisite grandeur through the penances of the parrot, and the latter too, O great king, at the close of his life, obtained the companionship of Sakra by virtue of that act of compassion. Thus, O lord of men, by communion and companionship with the pious, people attain all the objects of their desire even as the tree die through its companionship with the parrot.'" SECTION VI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O learned sire that art versed in all the scriptures, of Exertion and Destiny which is the most powerful?" "'Bhishma said, "This ancient story of the conversation of Vasishtha and Brahma, O Yudhishthira, is an illustration in point. In olden times the adorable Vasishtha enquired of Brahma as to which among these two, viz., the Karma of a creature acquired in this life, or that acquired in previous lives (and called Destiny), is the more potent in shaping his life. Then, O king, the great god Brahma, who had sprung from the primeval lotus, answered him in these exquisite and well-reasoned words, full of meaning. "'"Brahma said, 'Nothing comes into existence without seed. Without seed, fruits do not grow. From seeds spring other seeds. Hence are fruits known to be generated from seeds. Good or bad as the seed is that the husbandman soweth in his field, good or bad are the fruits that he reaps. As, unsown with seed, the soil, though tilled, becomes fruitless, so, without individual Exertion, Destiny is of no avail. One's own acts are like the soil, and Destiny (or the sum of one's acts in previous births) is compared to the seed. From the union of the soil and the seed doth the harvest grow. It is observed every day in the world that the doer reaps the fruit of his good and evil deeds; that happiness results from good deeds, and pain from evil ones; that acts, when done, always fructify; and that, if not done, no fruit arises. A man of (good) acts acquires merits with good fortune, while an idler falls away from his estate, and reaps evil like the infusion of alkaline matter injected into a wound. By devoted application, one acquires beauty, fortune, and riches of various kinds. Everything can be secured by Exertion: but nothing can be gained through Destiny alone, by a man that is wanting in personal Exertion. Even so does one attain to heaven, and all the objects of enjoyment, as also the fulfilment of one's heart's desires by well-directed individual Exertion. All the luminous bodies in the firmament, all the deities, the Nagas, and the Rakshasas, as also the Sun and the Moon and the Winds, have attained to their high status by evolution from man's status, through dint of their own action. Riches, friends, prosperity descending from generation to generation, as also the graces of life, are difficult of attainment by those that are wanting in Exertion. The Brahmana attains to prosperity by holy living, the Kshatriya by prowess, the Vaisya by manly exertion, and the Sudra by service. Riches and other objects of enjoyment do not follow the stingy, nor the impotent, nor the idler. Nor are these ever attained by the man that is not active or manly or devoted to the exercise of religious austerities. Even he, the adorable Vishnu, who created the three worlds with the Daityas and all the gods, even He is engaged in austere penances in the bosom of the deep. If one's Karma bore no fruit, then all actions would become fruitless, and relying on Destiny men would become idlers. He who, without pursuing the human modes of action, follows Destiny only, acts in vain, like unto the woman that has an impotent husband. In this world the apprehension that accrues from performance of good or evil actions is not so great if Destiny be unfavourable as one's apprehension of the same in the other world if Exertion be wanting while here.[9] Man's powers, if properly exerted, only follow his Destiny, but Destiny alone is incapable of conferring any good where Exertion is wanting. When it is seen that even in the celestial regions, the position of the deities themselves is unstable, how would the deities maintain their own position or that of others without proper Karma? The deities do not always approve of the good deeds of others in this world, for, apprehending their own overthrow, they try to thwart the acts of others. There is a constant rivalry between the deities and the Rishis, and if they all have to go through their Karma, still it can never be averted that there is no such thing as Destiny, for it is the latter that initiates all Karma. How does Karma originate, if Destiny form the prime spring of human action? (The answer is) that by this means, an accretion of many virtues is made even in the celestial regions. One's own self is one's friend and one's enemy too, as also the witness of one's good and evil deeds. Good and evil manifest themselves through Karma. Good and evil acts do not give adequate results. Righteousness is the refuge of the gods, and by righteousness is everything attained. Destiny thwarts not the man that has attained to virtue and righteousness. "'"'In olden times, Yayati, falling from his high estate in heaven descended on the Earth but was again restored to the celestial regions by the good deeds of his virtuous grandsons. The royal sage Pururavas, celebrated as the descendant of Ila, attained to heaven through the intercession of the Brahmanas. Saudasa, the king of Kosala, though dignified by the performance of Aswamedha and other sacrifices, obtained the status of a man-eating Rakshasa, through the curse of a great Rishi. Aswatthaman and Rama, though both warriors and sons of Munis, failed to attain to heaven by reason of their own actions in this world. Vasu, though he performed a hundred sacrifices like a second Vasava, was sent to the nethermost regions, for making a single false statement. Vali, the son of Virochana, righteously bound by his promise, was consigned to the regions under the Earth, by the prowess of Vishnu. Was not Janamejaya, who followed the foot-prints of Sakra, checked and put down by the gods for killing a Brahmana woman? Was not the regenerate Rishi Vaisampayana too, who slew a Brahmana in ignorance, and was polluted by the slaughter of a child, put down by the gods? In olden times the royal sage Nriga became transmuted into a lizard. He had made gifts of kine unto the Brahmanas at his great sacrifice, but this availed him not. The royal sage Dhundhumara was overwhelmed with decrepitude even while engaged in performing his sacrifices, and foregoing all the merits thereof, he fell asleep at Girivraja. The Pandavas too regained their lost kingdom, of which they had been deprived by the powerful sons of Dhritarashtra, not through the intercession of the fates, but by recourse to their own valour. Do the Munis of rigid vows, and devoted to the practice of austere penances, denounce their curses with the aid of any supernatural power or by the exercise of their own puissance attained by individual acts? All the good which is attained with difficulty in this world is possessed by the wicked, is soon lost to them. Destiny does not help the man that is steeped in spiritual ignorance and avarice. Even as a fire of small proportions, when fanned by the wind, becomes of mighty power, so does Destiny, when joined with individual Exertion, increase greatly (in potentiality). As with the diminution of oil in the lamp its light is extinguished so does the influence of Destiny is lost if one's acts stop. Having obtained vast wealth, and women and all the enjoyments of this world, the man without action is unable to enjoy them long, but the high-souled man, who is even diligent, is able to find riches buried deep in the Earth and watched over by the fates. The good man who is prodigal (in religious charities and sacrifices) is sought by the gods for his good conduct, the celestial world being better than the world of men, but the house of the miser though abounding in wealth is looked upon by the gods as the house of dead. The man that does not exert himself is never contented in this world nor can Destiny alter the course of a man that has gone wrong. So there is no authority inherent in Destiny. As the pupil follows one's own individual perception, so the Destiny follows Exertion. The affairs in which one's own Exertion is put forth, there only Destiny shows its hand. O best of Munis, I have thus described all the merits of individual Exertion, after having always known them in their true significance with the aid of my yogic insight. By the influence of Destiny, and by putting forth individual Exertion, do men attain to heaven. The combined aid of Destiny and Exertion, becomes efficacious.'"'" SECTION VII "'Yudhishthira said, "O the best of Bharata's race and the foremost of great men, I wish to know what the fruits are of good deed. Do thou enlighten me on this point." "'Bhishma said, "I shall tell thee what thou hast asked. Do thou, O Yudhishthira, listen to this which constitutes the secret knowledge of the Rishis. Listen to me as I explain what the ends, long coveted, are which are attained by men after death. Whatever actions are performed by particular corporeal beings, the fruits thereof are reaped by the doers while endued with similar corporeal bodies; for example, the fruits of actions done with mind are enjoyed at the time of dreams, and those of actions performed physically are enjoyed in the working state physically. In whatever states creatures perform good or evil deeds, they reap the fruits thereof in similar states of succeeding lives. No act done with the aid of the five organs of sensual perception, is ever lost. The five sensual organs and the immortal soul which is the sixth, remain its witnesses. One should devote one's eye to the service of the guest and should devote one's heart on the same; one should utter words that are agreeable; one should also follow and worship (one's guest). This is called Panchadakshin Sacrifice, (the sacrifice with five gifts). He who offers good food to the unknown and weary travellers fatigued by a long journey, attains to great merit. Those that use the sacrificial platform as their only bed obtain commodious mansions and beds (in subsequent births). Those that wear only rags and barks of trees for dress, obtain good apparel and ornaments in next birth. One possessed of penances and having his soul on Yoga, get vehicles and riding animals (as the fruit of their renunciation in this life). The monarch that lies down by the side of the sacrificial fire, attains to vigour and valour. The man who renounces the enjoyment of all delicacies, attains to prosperity, and he that abstains from animal food, obtains children and cattle. He who lies down with his head downwards, or who lives in water, or who lives secluded and alone in the practice of Brahmacharya, attains to all the desired ends. He who offers shelter to a guest and welcomes him with water to wash his feet as also with food, light and bed, attains to the merits of the sacrifice with the five gifts. He who lays himself down on a warrior's bed on the battle-field in the posture of a warrior, goes to those eternal regions where all the objects of desire are fulfilled. A man, O king, attains to riches that makes charitable gifts. One secures obedience to one's command by the vow of silence, all the enjoyments of life by practice of austerities, long life by Brahmacharya, and beauty, prosperity and freedom from disease by abstaining from injury to others. Sovereignty falls to the lot of those that subsist on fruits and roots only. Residence in heaven is attained by those that live on only leaves of trees. A man, O king, is said to obtain happiness, by abstention from food. By confining one's diet to herbs alone, one becomes possessed of cows. By living on grass one attains to the celestial regions. By foregoing all intercourse with one's wife and making ablutions three times during the day and by inhaling the air only for purposes of subsistence, one obtains the merit of a sacrifice. Heaven is attained by the practice of truth, nobility of birth by sacrifices. The Brahmana of pure practices that subsists on water only, and performs the Agnihotra ceaselessly, and recites the Gayatri, obtains a kingdom. By abstaining food or by regulating it, one attains to residence in heaven. O king, by abstaining from all but the prescribed diet while engaged in sacrifices, and by making pilgrimage for twelve years, one attains to a place better than the abodes reserved for heroes. By reading all the Vedas, one is instantly liberated from misery, and by practising virtue in thought, one attains to the heavenly regions. That man who is able to renounce that intense yearning of the heart for happiness and material enjoyments,--a yearning that is difficult of conquest by the foolish and that doth not abate with the abatement of bodily vigour and that clings like a fatal disease unto him,--is able to secure happiness. As the young calf is able to recognise its dam from among a thousand cows, so does the previous acts of a man pursue him (in all his different transformations). As the flowers and fruits of a tree, unurged by visible influences, never miss their proper season, so does Karma done in a previous existence bring about its fruits in proper time. With age, man's hair grows grey, his teeth become loose; his eyes and ears too become dim in action; but the only thing that does not abate is his desire for enjoyments. Prajapati is pleased with those acts that please one's father, and the Earth is pleased with those acts that please one's mother, and Brahma is adored with those acts that please one's preceptor. Virtue is honoured by him who honours these three. The acts of those that despise these three do not avail them."' "Vaisampayana said, 'The princes of Kuru's race became filled with wonder upon listening to this speech of Bhishma. All of them became pleased in mind and overpowered with joy. As Mantras applied with a desire to win victory, or the performance of the Shoma sacrifice made without proper gifts, or oblations poured on the fire without proper hymns, become useless and lead to evil consequences, even so sin and evil results flow from falsehood in speech. O prince, I have thus related to thee this doctrine of the fruition of good and evil acts, as narrated by the Rishis of old. What else dost thou wish to hear?'" SECTION VIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Who are deserving of worship? Who are they unto whom one may bow? Who are they, O Bharata, unto whom thou wouldst bend thy head? Who, again, are they whom thou likest? Tell me all this, O prince. What is that upon which thy mind dwells when affliction overwhelms thee? Do thou discourse to me on what is beneficial here, that is, in this region of human beings, as also hereafter."[10] "'Bhishma said, "I like those regenerate persons whose highest wealth is Brahman, whose heaven consists in the knowledge of the soul, and whose penances are constituted by their diligent study of the Vedas. My heart yearns after those in whose race persons, young and old diligently bear the ancestral burthens without languishing under them. Brahmanas well-trained in several branches of knowledge, self-controlled, mild-speeched, conversant with the scriptures, well-behaved, possessed of the knowledge of Brahman and righteous in conduct, discourse in respectable assemblies like flights of swans.[11] Auspicious, agreeable, excellent, and well-pronounced are the words, O Yudhishthira, which they utter with a voice as deep as that of the clouds. Fraught with happiness both temporal and spiritual, such words are uttered by them in the courts of monarchs, themselves being received with honour and attention and served with reverence by those rulers of men. Indeed, my heart yearns after them who listen to the words uttered in assemblies or the courts of kings by persons endued with knowledge and all desirable attributes, and are respected by others. My heart, O monarch, always yearns after them who, for the gratification of Brahmanas, O Yudhishthira, give unto them, with devotion, food that is well-cooked and clean and wholesome. It is easy to fight in battle, but not so to make a gift without pride or vanity. In this world, O Yudhishthira, there are brave men and heroes by hundreds. While counting them, he that is a hero in gifts should be regarded as superior. O amiable one, if I had been even a vulgar Brahmana, I would have regarded myself as very great, not to speak of one born in a good Brahmana family endued with righteousness of conduct, and devoted to penances and learning. There is no one, O son of Pandu, in this world that is dearer to me than thou, O chief of Bharata's race but dearer to me than thou are the Brahmanas. And since, O best of the Kurus, the Brahmanas are very much dearer to me than thou, it is by that truth that I hope to go to all those regions of felicity which have been acquired by my sire Santanu. Neither my sire, nor my sire's sire, nor any one else connected with me by blood, is dearer to me than the Brahmanas. I do not expect any fruit, small or great, from my worship of the Brahmanas (for I worship them as deities because they are deserving of such worship).[12] In consequence of what I have done to the Brahmanas in thought, word, and deed, I do not feel any pain now (even though I am lying on a bed of arrows). People used to call me as one devoted to the Brahmanas. This style of address always pleased me highly. To do good to the Brahmanas is the most sacred of all sacred acts. I behold many regions of beatitude waiting for me that have reverentially walked behind the Brahmanas. Very soon shall I repair to those regions for everlasting time, O son. In this world, O Yudhishthira, the duties of women have reference to and depend upon their husbands. To a woman, verily, the husband is the deity and he is the highest end after which she should strive. As the husband is to the wife, even so are the Brahmanas unto Kshatriyas. If there be a Kshatriya of full hundred years of age and a good Brahmana child of only ten years, the latter should be regarded as a father and the former as a son, for among the two, verily, the Brahmana is superior. A woman in the absence of her husband, takes his younger brother for her lord; even so the Earth, not having obtained the Brahmana, made the Kshatriya her lord. The Brahmanas should be protected like sons and worshipped like sires or preceptors. Indeed, O best of the Kurus, they should be waited upon with reverence even as people wait with reverence upon their sacrificial or Homa fires. The Brahmanas are endued with simplicity and righteousness. They are devoted to truth. They are always engaged in the good of every creature. Yet when angry they are like snakes of virulent poison. They should, for these reasons, be always waited upon and served with reverence and humility. One should, O Yudhishthira, always fear these two, viz., Energy and Penances. Both these should be avoided or kept at a distance. The effects of both are speedy. There is the superiority, however, of Penances, viz., that Brahmanas endued with Penances, O monarch, can, if angry, slay the object of their wrath (regardless of the measure of Energy with which that object may be endued). Energy and Penances, each of the largest measure, become neutralised if applied against a Brahmana that has conquered wrath. If the two,--that is, Energy and Penances,--be set against each other, then destruction would overtake both but not destruction without a remnant, for while Energy, applied against Penances, is sure to be destroyed without leaving a remnant. Penances applied against Energy cannot be destroyed completely.[13] As the herdsman, stick in hand, protects the herd, even so should the Kshatriya always protect the Vedas and the Brahmanas. Indeed, the Kshatriya should protect all righteous Brahmanas even as a sire protects his sons. He should always have his eye upon the house of the Brahmanas for seeing that their means of subsistence may not be wanting."'" SECTION IX "'Yudhisthira said, "O grandsire, O thou of great splendour, what do those men become who, through stupefaction of intellect, do not make gifts unto Brahmanas after having promised to make those gifts? O thou that art the foremost of all righteous persons, do tell me what the duties are in this respect. Indeed, what becomes the end of those wicked wights that do not give after having promised to give." "'Bhishma said, "The person that, after having promised, does not give, be it little or much, has the mortification to see his hopes (in every direction) become fruitless like the hopes of a eunuch in respect of progeny. Whatever good acts such a person does between the day of his birth and that of his death, O Bharata, whatever libations he pours on the sacrificial fire, whatever gifts he makes, O chief of Bharata's race, and whatever penances he performs all become fruitless. They that are conversant with the scriptures declare this as their opinion, arriving at it, O chief of the Bharatas, with the aid of a well-ordered understanding. Persons conversant with the scriptures are also of opinion that such a man may be cleansed by giving away a thousand horses with ears of a dark hue. In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between a jackal and an ape. While both were human beings, O scorcher of foes, they were intimate friends. After death one of them became a jackal and the other an ape. Beholding the jackal one day eating an animal carcase in the midst of a crematorium, the ape, remembering his own and his friend's former birth as human beings, addressed him, saying,--'Verily, what terrible sin didst thou perpetrate in thy former birth in consequence of which thou art obliged in this birth to feed in a crematorium upon such repulsive fare as the putrid carcase of an animal?'--Thus addressed, the jackal replied unto the ape, saying,--Having promised to give unto a Brahmana I did not make him the gift. It is for that sin, O ape, that I have fallen into this wretched order of existence. It is for that reason that, when hungry, I am obliged to eat such food."' "'Bhishma continued, "The jackal then, O best of men, addressed the ape and said,--'What sin didst thou commit for which thou hast become an ape?' "'"The ape said, 'In my former life I used to appropriate the fruits belonging to Brahmanas. Hence have I become an ape. Hence it is clear that one possessed of intelligence and learning should never appropriate what belongs to Brahmanas. Verily, as one should abstain from this, one should avoid also all disputes with Brahmanas. Having promised, one should certainly make the promised gift unto them.'" "'Bhishma continued, "I heard this, O king, from my preceptor while he was engaged in discoursing upon the subject of Brahmanas. I heard this from that righteous person when he recited the old and sacred declaration on this topic. I heard this from Krishna also, O king, while he was engaged in discoursing, O son of Pandu, upon Brahmanas.[14] The property of a Brahmana should never be appropriated. They should always be let alone. Poor, or miserly, or young in years, they should never be disregarded. The Brahmanas have always taught me this. Having promised to make them a gift, the gift should be made. A superior Brahmana should never be disappointed in the matter of his expectations. A Brahmana, O king, in whom an expectation has been raised, has, O king, been said to be like a blazing fire.[15] That man upon whom a Brahmana with raised expectations casts his eye, is sure, O monarch, to be consumed even as a heap of straw is capable of being consumed by a blazing fire.[16] When the Brahmana, gratified (with honours and gifts) by the king addresses the king in delightful and affectionate words, he becomes, O Bharata, a source of great benefit to the king, for he continues to live in the kingdom like a physician combating against diverse ills of the body.[17] Such a Brahmana is sure to maintain by his puissance and good wishes, the sons and grandsons and animals and relatives and ministers and other officers and the city and the provinces of the king.[18] Even such is the energy, so great, of the Brahmana like unto that of the thousand-rayed Surya himself, on the Earth. Therefore, O Yudhishthira, if one wishes to attain to a respectable or happy order of being in one's next birth, one should, having passed the promise to a Brahmana, certainly keep it by actually making the gift to him. By making gifts to a Brahmana one is sure to attain to the highest heaven. Verily, the making of gifts is the highest of acts that one can achieve. By the gifts one makes to a Brahmana, the deities and the pitris are supported. Hence one possessed of knowledge should ever make gifts unto the Brahmanas. O chief of the Bharatas, the Brahmana is regarded as the highest object unto whom gifts should be made. At no time should a Brahmana be received without being properly worshipped."'" SECTION X "'Yudhisthira said, "I wish to know, O royal sage, whether any fault is incurred by one who from interested or disinterested friendship imparts instructions unto a person belonging to a low order of birth! O grandsire, I desire to hear this, expounded to me in detail. The course of duty is exceedingly subtile. Men are often seen to be stupefied in respect of that course." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O king, I shall recite to thee, in due order, what I heard certain Rishis say in days of yore. Instruction should not be imparted unto one that belongs to a low or mean caste. It is said that the preceptor who imparts instruction to such a person incurs great fault. Listen to me, O chief of Bharata's race, as I recite to thee, O Yudhishthira, this instance that occurred in days of old, O monarch, of the evil consequences of the imparting of instruction unto a low-born person fallen into distress. The incident which I shall relate occurred in the asylum of certain regenerate sages that stood on the auspicious breast of Himavat. There, on the breast of that prince of mountains, was a sacred asylum adorned with trees of diverse kinds. Overgrown also with diverse species of creepers and plants, it was the resort of many animals and birds. Inhabited by Siddhas and Charanas also, it was exceedingly delightful in consequence of the woods that flowered these at every season. Many were the Brahmacharins that dwelt there, and many belonging to the forest mode of life. Many also were the Brahmanas that took up their residence there, that were highly blessed and that resembled the sun or the fire in energy and effulgence. Ascetics of diverse kinds, observant of various restraints and vows, as also others, O chief of the Bharatas, that had undergone Diksha and were frugal in fare and possessed of cleansed souls, took up their residence there. Large numbers of Valakhilyas and many that were observant of the vow of Sanyasa also, used to dwell there. The asylum, in consequence of all this, resounded with the chanting of the Vedas and the sacred Mantras uttered by its inhabitants. Once upon a time a Sudra endued with compassion for all creatures, ventured to come into that asylum. Arrived at that retreat, he was duly honoured by all the ascetics. Beholding those ascetics of diverse classes that were endued with great energy, that resembled the deities (in purity and power), and that were observing diverse kinds of Diksha, O Bharata, the Sudra became highly pleased at heart. Beholding everything, O chief of Bharata's race, the Sudra felt inclined to devote himself to the practice of penances. Touching the feet of the Kulapati (the head man of the group), O Bharata, he addressed him saying,[19] 'Through thy grace, O foremost of regenerate persons, I desire, to learn (and practise) the duties of religion. It behoveth thee, O illustrious one, to discourse to me on those duties and introduce me (by performing the rites of initiation) into a life of Renunciation. I am certainly inferior in colour, O illustrious one, for I am by caste a Sudra, O best of men. I desire to wait upon and serve you here. Be gratified with me that humbly seek thy shelter.' "'"The Kulapati said, 'It is impossible that a Sudra should live here adopting the marks specially intended for those practising lives of Renunciation. If it pleases thee, thou mayest stay here, engaged in waiting upon and serving us. Without doubt, by such service thou shalt attain to many regions of high felicity.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the ascetic, the Sudra began to reflect in his mind, O king, saying, 'How should I now act? Great is my reverence for those religious duties that lead to merit. Let this, however, be settled, that I shall do what would be for my benefit.'[20] Proceeding to a spot that was distant from that asylum, he made a hut of the twigs and leaves of trees. Erecting also a sacrificial platform, and making a little space for his sleep, and some platforms for the use of the deities, he began, O chief of the Bharatas, to lead a life regulated by rigid observances and vows and to practise penances, abstaining entirely from speech all the while. He began to perform ablutions thrice a day, observe other vows (in respect of food and sleep), make sacrifices to the deities, pour libations on the sacrificial fire, and adore the worship and deities in this way. Restraining all carnal desires, living abstemiously upon fruits and roots, controlling all his senses, he daily welcomed and entertained all that came to his retreat as guests, offering them herbs and fruits that grew plentifully around. In this way he passed a very long time in that hermitage of his.[21] One day an ascetic came to that Sudra's retreat for the purpose of making his acquaintance. The Sudra welcomed and worshipped the Rishi with due rites, and gratified him highly. Endued with great energy, and possessed of a righteous soul, that Rishi of rigid vows conversed with his host on many agreeable subjects and informed him of the place whence he had come. In this way, O chief of the Bharatas, that Rishi, O best of men, came into the asylum of the Sudra times out of a number for the object of seeing him. On one of these occasions, the Sudra, O king, addressing the Rishi said,--'I desire to perform the rites that are ordained for the Pitris. Do thou instruct me kindly in this matter.'--'Very well,'--the Brahmana said in reply unto him, O monarch. The Sudra then, purifying himself by a bath, brought water for the Rishi to wash his feet, and he also brought some Kusa grass, and wild herbs and fruits, and a sacred seat, and the seat called Vrishi. The Vrishi, however, was placed by the Sudra towards the south, with his head turned to the west. Beholding this and knowing that it was against the ordinance, the Rishi addressed the Sudra, saying,--'Place the Vrishi with its head turned towards the East, and having purified thyself, do thou sit with thy face turned towards the north'--The Sudra did everything as the Rishi directed. Possessed of great intelligence, and observant of righteousness, the Sudra received every direction, about the Sraddha, as laid down in the ordinance, from that Rishi endued with penances regarding the manner of spreading the Kusa grass, and placing the Arghyas, and as regards the rites to be observed in the matter of the libations to be poured and the food to be offered. After the rites in honour of the Pitris had been accomplished, the Rishi, was dismissed by the Sudra, whereupon he returned to his own abode.[22] After a long time, the whole of which he passed in the practice of such penances and vows, the Sudra ascetic met with his death in those woods. In consequence of the merit he acquired by those practices, the Sudra in the next life, took birth in the family of a great king, and in course of time became possessed of great splendour. The regenerate Rishi also, when the time came, paid his debt in Nature. In his next life, O chief of Bharata's race, he took birth in the family of a priest. It was in this way that those two, viz., that Sudra who had passed a life of penances and that regenerate Rishi who had in kindness given the former some instructions in the matter of the rites performed in honour of the Pitris, became reborn, the one as scion of a royal race and the other as the member of a priestly family. Both of them began to grow and both acquired great knowledge in the usual branches of study. The Brahmana became well versed in the Vedas as also in the Atharvans.[23] In the matter, again of all sacrifices ordained in the Sutras, of that Vedanga which deals with religious rites and observances, astrology and astronomy the reborn Rishi attained great excellence. In the Sankhya philosophy too he began to take great delight. Meanwhile, the reborn Sudra who had become a prince, when his father, the king died, performed his last rites; and after he had purified himself by accomplishing all the obsequial ceremonies, he was installed by the subjects of his father as their king on his paternal throne. But soon after his own installation as king, he installed the reborn Rishi as his priest. Indeed, having made the Brahmana his priest, the king began to pass his days in great happiness. He ruled his kingdom righteously and protected and cherished all his subjects. Everyday, however, the king on the occasion of receiving benedictions from his priest as also of the performance of religious and other sacred rites, smiled or laughed at him loudly. In this way, O monarch, the reborn Sudra who had become a king, laughed at sight of his priest on numberless occasions.[24] The priest, marking that the king always smiled or laughed whenever he happened to cast his eyes on him, became angry. On one occasion he met the king in a place where there was nobody else. He pleased the king by agreeable discourse. Taking advantage of that moment, O chief of Bharata's race, the priest addressed the king, saying,--'O thou of great splendour, I pray thee to grant me a single boon.' "'"The king said, 'O best of regenerate persons, I am ready to grant thee a hundred of boons, what dost thou say then of one only? From the affection I bear thee and the reverence in which I hold thee, there is nothing that I cannot give thee.' "'"The priest said, 'I desire to have only one boon, O king, thou hast been pleased with me. Swear that thou wouldst tell me the truth instead of any untruth.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the priest, O Yudhishthira, the king said unto him--'So be it. If what thou wouldst ask me be known to me, I shall certainly tell thee truly. If on the other hand, the matter be unknown to me, I shall not say anything.' "'"The priest said, 'Every day, on occasions of obtaining my benedictions, when, again, I am engaged in the performance of religious rites on thy behalf, on occasions also of the Homa and other rites of propitiation, why is it that thou laughest upon beholding me? Seeing thee laugh at me on all occasions, my mind shrinks with shame. I have caused thee to swear, O king, that thou wouldst answer me truly. It does not behove thee to say what is untrue. There must be some grave reason for thy behaviour. Thy laughter cannot be causeless. Great is my curiosity to know the reason. Do thou speak truly unto me.' "'"The king said, 'When thou hast addressed me in this strain, O regenerate one, I am bound to enlighten thee, even if the matter be one that should not be divulged in thy hearing. I must tell thee the truth. Do thou listen to me with close attention, O regenerate one. Listen to me, O foremost of twice-born persons, as I disclose to thee what happened (to us) in our former births. I remember that birth. Do thou listen to me with concentrated mind. In my former life I was a Sudra employed in the practice of severe penances. Thou, O best of regenerate persons, wert a Rishi of austere penances. O sinless one, gratified with me, and impelled by the desire of doing me good, thou, O Brahmana, wert pleased to give me certain instructions in the rites I performed (on one occasion) in honour of my Pitris. The instructions thou gayest me were in respect of the manner of spreading the Vrishi and the Kusa blades and of offering libations and meat and other food to the manes, O foremost of ascetics. In consequence of this transgression of thine thou hast taken birth as a priest, and I have taken birth as a king, O foremost of Brahmanas. Behold the vicissitudes that Time brings about. Thou hast reaped this fruit in consequence of thy having instructed me (in my former birth). It is for this reason, O Brahmana, that I smile at sight of thee, O foremost of regenerate persons. I do not certainly laugh at thee from desire of disregarding thee. Thou art my preceptor.[25] At this change of condition I am really very sorry. My heart burns at the thought. I remember our former births, hence do I laugh at sight of thee. Thy austere penances were all destroyed by the instructions thou gayest me. Relinquishing thy present office of priest, do thou endeavour to regain a superior birth. Do thou exert so that thou mayst not obtain in thy next life a birth meaner than thy present one. Take as much wealth as thou wishest, O learned Brahmana, and cleanse thy soul, O best of men.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Dismissed by the king (from the office of priest), the Brahmana made many gifts, unto persons of his own order, of wealth and land and villages. He observed many rigid and severe vows as laid down by the foremost of Brahmanas. He sojourned to many sacred waters and made many gifts unto Brahmanas in those places. Making gifts of kine unto persons of the regenerate order, his soul became cleansed and he succeeded in acquiring a knowledge of it. Repairing to that very asylum whither he had lived in his former birth, he practised very severe penances. As the consequence of all this, O foremost of kings, that Brahmana succeeded in attaining to the highest success. He became an object of veneration with all the ascetics that dwelt in that asylum. In this way, O best of monarchs, that regenerate Rishi fell into great distress. Unto Sudras, therefore, the Brahmanas should never give instructions. Hence, O king, the Brahmana should avoid imparting instructions (to such as are low-born), for it was by imparting instruction to a low-born person a Brahmana came to grief. O best of kings, the Brahmana should never desire to obtain instruction from, or impart instruction to, a person that belongs to the lowest order. Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas, the three orders, are regarded as twice-born. By imparting instruction unto these, a Brahmana does not incur any fault. They, therefore, that are good, should never discourse on any subject, for imparting any instruction, before persons of the inferior order. The course of morality is exceedingly subtile and incapable of being comprehended by persons of uncleansed souls. It is for this reason that ascetics adopt the vow of silence, and being respected by all, pass through Diksha (initiation) without indulging in speech.[26] For fear of saying what is incorrect or what may offend, ascetics often forego speech itself. Even men that are righteous and possessed of every accomplishment, and endued with truth and simplicity of behaviour, have been known to incur great fault in consequence of words spoken improperly. Instruction should never be imparted on anything unto any person. If in consequence of the instructions imparted, the instructed commit any sin, that sin, attaches to the Brahmana who imparted the instruction. The man of wisdom, therefore, that desires to earn merit, should always act with wisdom. That instruction which is imparted in barter for money always pollutes the instructor.[27] Solicited by others, one should say only what is correct after settling it with the aid of reflection. One should impart instruction in such a way that one may, by imparting it, earn merit. I have thus told thee everything respecting the subject of instructions. Very often persons become plunged into great afflictions in consequence of imparting instructions. Hence it is meet that one should abstain from giving instruction unto others."'" SECTION XI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, in what kind of man or woman, O chief of the Bharatas, does the goddess of prosperity always reside?" "'Bhishma said, "I shall, in this connection, narrate to thee what occurred and what I have heard. Once on a time, beholding the goddess of prosperity blazing with beauty and endued with the complexion of the lotus, the princess Rukmini the mother of Pradyumna that bore the device of the Makara on his banner, filled with curiosity, asked this question in the presence of Devaki's son. 'Who are those beings by whose side thou stayest and whom thou favours? Who again, are those whom thou dost not bless with favour. O thou that art dear unto Him that is the lord of all creatures, tell me this truly, O thou that art equal to a great Rishi in penances and puissance.' Thus addressed by the princess, the goddess of prosperity, with a face as beautiful as the moon, and moved by grace, in the presence of him who has Garuda on his banner, said these words in reply that were sweet and charming. "'"Sree said, 'O blessed lady, I always reside with him that is eloquent, active, attentive to business, free from wrath, given to the worship of the deities, endued with gratitude, has his passions under complete control, and is high-minded in everything. I never reside with one that is inattentive to business, that is an unbeliever, that causes an intermixture of races in consequence of his lustfulness, that is ungrateful, that is of impure practices, that uses harsh and cruel words, that is a thief, that cherishes malice towards his preceptors and other seniors, those persons that are endued with little energy, strength, life, and honour, that are distressed at every trifle, and that always indulge in wrath. I never reside with these that think in one strain and act in a different one.[28] I never reside also with him who never desires any acquisition for himself, of him who is so blinded as to rest content with the lot in which he finds himself without any exertion or with those that are contented with small acquisitions. I reside with those that are observant of the duties of their own order, or those that are conversant with the duties of righteousness, or those that are devoted to the service of the aged or those that have their passions under control, or those that are endued with cleansed souls or those that observe the virtue of forgiveness, or those that are able and prompt in action, or with such women as are forgiving and self-restrained. I reside with those women also that are devoted to truth and sincerity and that worship the deities. I do not reside with those women also that do not attend to household furniture and provisions scattered all around the house, and that always utter words contrary to the wishes of their husbands. I always avoid those women that are fond of the houses of other people and that have no modesty. On the other hand, I reside with those women that are devoted to their husbands, that are blessed in behaviour, and that are always decked in ornaments and attired in good robes. I always reside with those women that are truthful in speech, that are of handsome and agreeable features, that are blessed and that are endued with all accomplishments. I always avoid such women as are sinful and unclean or impure, as always lick the corners of their mouths, as have no patience or fortitude, and as are fond of dispute and quarrelling, as are given to much sleep, and as always lie down. I always reside in conveyances and the animals that drag them, in maidens, in ornaments and good vestments, in sacrifices, in clouds charged with rain, in full-blown lotuses, and in those stars that bespangle the autumnal firmament. I reside in elephants, in the cow pen, in good seats, and in lakes adorned with full-blown lotuses. I live also in such rivers as babble sweetly in their course, melodious with the music of cranes, having banks adorned with rows of diverse trees, and restored to by Brahmanas and ascetics and others crowned with success. I always reside in those rivers also that have deep and large volumes of rolling waters rendered turbid by lions and elephants plunging into them for bathing or slaking their thirst. I reside also in infuriate elephants, in bovine bulls, in kings, on the throne and good men. I always reside in that house in which the inmate pours libation on the sacrificial fire and worships kine, Brahmanas and the deities. I reside in that house where at the proper time offerings are made unto the deities, in course of worship.[29] I always reside in such Brahmanas as are devoted to the study of the Vedas, in Kshatriyas devoted to the observance of righteousness, in Vaisyas devoted to cultivation, and the Sudras devoted to the (menial) service of the three upper classes. I reside, with a heart firm and unchangeable, in Narayana, in my embodied self. In Him is righteousness in its perfection and full measure, devotion to the Brahmanas, and the quality of agreeableness. Can I not say, O lady that I do not reside in my embodied form, (in any of these places that I have mentioned, except Narayana)? That person in whom I reside in spirit increases in righteousness and fame and wealth and objects of desire.'"'" SECTION XII "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth, O king to tell me truly which of the two viz., man or woman derives the greater pleasure from an act of union with each other. Kindly resolve my doubt in this respect." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited this old narrative of the discourse between Bhangaswana and Sakra as a precedent illustrating the question. In days of yore there lived a king of the name of Bhangaswana. He was exceedingly righteous and was known as a royal sage. He was, however, childless, O chief of men, and therefore performed a sacrifice from desire of obtaining an issue. The sacrifice which that mighty monarch performed was the Agnishtuta. In consequence of the fact that the deity of fire is alone adored in that sacrifice, this is always disliked by Indra. Yet it is the sacrifice that is desired by men when for the purpose of obtaining an issue they seek to cleanse themselves of their sins.[30] The highly blessed chief of the celestials, viz. Indra, learning that the monarch was desirous of performing the Agnishtuta, began from that moment to look for the laches of that royal sage of well-restrained soul (for if he could succeed in finding some laches, he could then punish his disregarder). Notwithstanding all his vigilance, however, O king, Indra failed to detect any laches, on the part of the high-souled monarch. Some time after, one day, the king went on a hunting expedition. Saying unto himself--This, indeed, is an opportunity,--Indra stupefied the monarch. The king proceeded alone on his horse, confounded because of the chief of the celestials having stupefied his senses. Afflicted with hunger and thirst, the king's confusion was so great that he could not ascertain the points of the compass. Indeed, afflicted with thirst, he began to wander hither and thither. He then beheld a lake that was exceedingly beautiful and was full of transparent water. Alighting from his steed, and plunging into the lake, he caused his animal to drink. Tying his horse then, whose thirst had been slaked, to a tree, the king plunged into the lake again for performing his ablutions. To his amazement he found that he was changed, by virtue of the waters, into a woman. Beholding himself thus transformed in respect of sex itself, the king became overpowered with shame. With his senses and mind completely agitated, he began to reflect with his whole heart in this strain:--'Alas, how shall I ride my steed? How shall I return to my capital? In consequence of the Agnishtuta sacrifice I have got a hundred sons all endued with great might, and all children of my own loins. Alas, thus transformed, what shall I say unto them? What shall I say unto my spouses, my relatives and well-wishers, and my subjects of the city and the provinces? Rishis conversant with the truths of duty and religion and other matters say that mildness and softness and liability to extreme agitation are the attributes of women, and that activity, hardness, and energy are the attributes of men. Alas, my manliness has disappeared. For what reason has femininity come over me? In consequence of this transformation of sex, how shall I succeed in mounting my horse again?'--Having indulged in these sad thoughts, the monarch, with great exertion, mounted his steed and came back to his capital, transformed though he had been into a woman. His sons and spouses and servants, and his subjects of the city and the provinces, beholding that extraordinary transformation, became exceedingly amazed. Then that royal sage, that foremost of eloquent men, addressing them all, said,--'I had gone out on a hunting expedition, accompanied by a large force. Losing all knowledge of the points of the compass, I entered a thick and terrible forest, impelled by the fates. In that terrible forest, I became afflicted with thirst and lost my senses. I then beheld a beautiful lake abounding with fowl of every description. Plunging into that stream for performing my ablutions, I was transformed into a woman!'--Summoning then his spouses and counsellors, and all his sons by their names, that best of monarchs transformed into a woman said unto them these words:--'Do ye enjoy this kingdom in happiness. As regards myself, I shall repair to the woods, ye sons.'--Having said so unto his children, the monarch proceeded to the forest. Arrived there, she came upon an asylum inhabited by an ascetic. By that ascetic the transformed monarch gave birth to a century of sons. Taking all those children of hers, she repaired to where her former children were, and addressing the latter, said,--'Ye are the children of my loins while I was a man. These are my children brought forth by me in this state of transformation. Ye sons, do ye all enjoy my kingdom together, like brothers born of the same parents.'--At this command of their parent, all the brothers, uniting together, began to enjoy the kingdom as their joint property. Beholding those children of the king all jointly enjoying the kingdom as brothers born of the same parents, the chief of the celestials, filled with wrath, began to reflect--'By transforming this royal sage into a woman I have, it seems, done him good instead of an injury.' Saying this, the chief of the celestials viz., Indra of a hundred sacrifices, assuming the form of a Brahmana, repaired to the capital of the king and meeting all the children succeeded in disuniting the princes. He said unto them--'Brothers never remain at peace even when they happen to be the children of the same father. The sons of the sage Kasyapa, viz., the deities and the Asuras, quarrelled with each other on account of the sovereignty of the three worlds. As regards ye princes, ye are the children of the royal sage Bhangaswana. These others are the children of an ascetic. The deities and the Asuras are children of even one common sire, and yet the latter quarrelled with each other. How much more, therefore, should you quarrel with each other? This kingdom that is your paternal property is being enjoyed by these children of an ascetic.' With these words, Indra succeeded in causing a breach between them, so that they were very soon engaged in battle and slew each other. Hearing this, king Bhangaswana, who was living as an ascetic woman, burnt with grief and poured forth her lamentations. The lord of the celestials viz. Indra, assuming the guise of a Brahmana, came to that spot where the ascetic lady was living and meeting her, said,--'O thou that art possessed of a beautiful face, with what grief dost thou burn so that thou art pouring forth thy lamentations?'--Beholding the Brahmana the lady told him in a piteous voice,--'Two hundred sons of mine O regenerate one, have been slain by Time. I was formerly a king, O learned Brahmana and in that state had a hundred sons. These were begotten by me after my own form, O best of regenerate persons. On one occasion I went on a hunting expedition. Stupefied, I wandered amidst a thick forest. Beholding at last a lake, I plunged into it. Rising, O foremost of Brahmanas, I found that I had become a woman. Returning to my capital I installed my sons in the sovereignty of my dominions and then departed for the forest. Transformed into a woman, I bore a hundred sons to my husband who is a high souled ascetic. All of them were born in the ascetic's retreat. I took them to the capital. My children, through the influence of Time, quarrelled with each other, O twice-born one. Thus afflicted by Destiny, I am indulging in grief.' Indra addressed him in these harsh words.--'In former days, O lady, thou gayest me great pain, for thou didst perform a sacrifice that is disliked by Indra. Indeed, though I was present, thou didst not invoke me with honours. I am that Indra, O thou of wicked understanding. It is I with whom thou hast purposely sought hostilities.' Beholding Indra, the royal sage fell at his feet, touching them with his head, and said,--'Be gratified with me, O foremost of deities. The sacrifice of which thou speakest was performed from desire of offspring (and not from any wish to hurt thee). It behoveth thee therefore, to grant me thy pardon.'--Indra, seeing the transformed monarch prostrate himself thus unto him, became gratified with him and desired to give him a boon. 'Which of your sons, O king, dost thou wish, should revive, those that were brought forth by thee transformed into a woman, or those that were begotten by thee in thy condition as a person of the male sex?' The ascetic lady, joining her hands, answered Indra, saying, 'O Vasava, let those sons of mine come to life that were borne by me as a woman.' Filled with wonder at this reply, Indra once more asked the lady, 'Why dost thou entertain less affection for those children of thine that were begotten by thee in thy form of a person of the male sex? Why is it that thou bearest greater affection for those children that were borne by thee in thy transformed state? I wish to hear the reason of this difference in respect of thy affection. It behoveth thee to tell me everything.' "'"The lady said, 'The affection that is entertained by a woman is much greater than that which is entertained by a man. Hence, it is, O Sakra, that I wish those children to come back to life that were borne by me as a woman.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, Indra became highly pleased and said unto her, 'O lady that art so truthful, let all thy children come back into life. Do thou take another boon, O foremost of kings, in fact, whatever boon thou likest. O thou of excellent vows, do thou take from me whatever status thou choosest, that of woman or of man.' "'"The lady said, 'I desire to remain a woman, O Sakra. In fact, I do not wish to be restored to the status of manhood, O Vasava.'--Hearing this answer, Indra once more asked her, saying,--'Why is it, O puissant one, that abandoning the status of manhood thou wishest that of womanhood?' Questioned thus, that foremost of monarchs transformed into a woman answered, 'In acts of congress, the pleasure that women enjoy is always much greater than what is enjoyed by men. It is for this reason, O Sakra, that I desire to continue a woman; O foremost of the deities, truly do I say unto thee that I derive greater pleasure in my present status of womanhood. I am quite content with this status of womanhood that I now have. Do thou leave me now, O lord of heaven.'--Hearing these words of hers, the lord of the celestials answered,--'So be it,'--and bidding her farewell, proceeded to heaven. Thus, O monarch, it is known that woman derives much greater pleasure than man under the circumstances thou hast asked."'" SECTION XIII "'Yudhishthira said, "What should a man do in order to pass pleasantly through this and the other world. How, indeed, should one conduct oneself? What practices should one adopt with this end in view?" "'Bhishma said, "One should avoid the three acts that are done with the body, the four that are done with speech, the three that are done with the mind, and the ten paths of action. The three acts that are done with the body and should be wholly avoided are the destruction of the lives of other creatures, theft or appropriation of what belongs to other persons, and the enjoyment of other people's wives. The four acts that are done with speech, O king, and that should never be indulged in or even thought of, are evil conversation, harsh words, publishing other people's faults, and falsehood. Coveting the possessions of others, doing injury to others, and disbelief in the ordinances of the Vedas, are the three acts done with the mind which should always be avoided.[31] Hence, one should never do any evil act in word, body, or mind. By doing good and evil acts, one is sure to enjoy or endure the just consequences thereof. Nothing can be more certain than this."'" SECTION XIV "'Yudhishthira said, "O son of the River Ganga, thou hast heard all the names of Maheshwara, the Lord of the universe. Do thou tell us, O grandsire, all the names that are applied, O puissant one, unto Him who is called Isa and Sambhu. Do thou tell us all those names that are applied unto Him who is called Vabhru or vast, Him that has the universe for his form, Him that is the illustrious preceptor of all the deities and the Asuras, that is called Swayambhu (self-creating) and that is the cause of the origin and dissolution of the universe. Do thou tell us also of the puissance of Mahadeva." "'Bhishma said, "I am quite incompetent to recite the virtues of Mahadeva of highest intelligence. He pervades all things in the universe and yet is not seen anywhere. He is the creator of universal self and the Pragna (knowing) self and he is their master. All the deities, from Brahman to the Pisachas, adore and worship him. He transcends both Prakriti and Purusha. It is of Him that Rishis, conversant with Yoga and possessing a knowledge of the tattwas, think and reflect. He is indestructible and Supreme Brahman. He is both existent and non-existent. Agitating both Prakriti and Purusha by means of His energy, He created therefrom the universal lord of creatures, viz., Brahma. Who is there that is competent to tell the virtues of that god of gods, that is endued with supreme Intelligence? Man is subject to conception (in the mother's womb), birth, decrepitude, and death. Being such, what man like me is competent to understand Bhava? Only Narayana, O son, that bearer of the discus and the mace, can comprehend Mahadeva. He is without deterioration. He is the foremost of all beings in attributes. He is Vishnu, because of his pervading the universe. He is irresistible. Endued with spiritual vision, He is possessed of supreme Energy. He sees all things with the eye of Yoga. It is in consequence of the devotion of the high-souled Krishna to the illustrious Rudra whom he gratified, O Bharata, in the retreat of Vadari, by penances, that he has succeeded in pervading the entire universe. O king of kings, it is through Maheswara of celestial vision that Vasudeva has obtained the attribute of universal agreeableness,--an agreeableness that is much greater than what is possessed by all articles included under the name of wealth.[32] For a full thousand years this Madhava underwent the austerest penances and at last succeeded in gratifying the illustrious and boon giving Siva, that Master of all the mobile and the immobile universe. In every new Yuga has Krishna (by such penances) gratified Mahadeva. In every Yuga has Mahadeva been gratified with the great devotion of the high-souled Krishna. How great is the puissance of the high-souled Mahadeva,--that original cause of the universe,--has been seen with his own eyes by Hari who himself transcends all deterioration, on the occasion of his penances in the retreat of Vadari undergone for obtaining a son.[33] I do not, O Bharata, behold any one that is superior to Mahadeva. To expound the names of that god of gods fully and without creating the desire of hearing more only Krishna is competent. This mighty-armed one of Yadu's race is alone competent to tell the attributes of the illustrious Siva. Verily, O king, only he is able to discourse on the puissance, in its entirety of the Supreme deity."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said these words, the illustrious Bhishma, the grandsire of the Kurus, addressing Vasudeva, said the following words, dealing with the subject of the greatness of Bhava, O monarch. "'Bhishma said, "Thou art the Master of all the deities and the Asuras. Thou art illustrious. Thou art Vishnu in consequence of thy pervading the whole universe. It behoveth thee to discourse on those subjects connected with Siva of universal form about which Yudhishthira has asked me. In days of yore, the Rishi Tandi, sprung from Brahma, recited in Brahma's region and before Brahma himself the thousand names of Mahadeva. Do thou recite those names before this conclave so that these Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism, observant of high vows, possessed of self-restraint, and numbering the Island-born Krishna among them, may hear thee. Do thou discourse on the high blessedness of Him who is immutable, who is always cheerful and happy, who is Hotri, who is the universal Protector, who is Creator, of the universe, and who is called Mundin and Kaparddin."[34] "'Vasudeva said, "The very deities with Indra, and the Grandsire Brahma numbering among them, and the great Rishis also, are incompetent to understand the course of Mahadeva's acts truly and in all their details. Even He is the end which all righteous people attain. The very Adityas who are endued with subtile sight, are unable to behold his abode. How then can one that is merely a man succeed in comprehending Him?[35] I shall, therefore, truly recite to you some of the attributes of that illustrious slayer of Asuras, who is regarded as the Lord of all sacrifices and vows."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said these words, the illustrious Vasudeva began his discourse on the attributes of the high-souled Mahadeva endued with the highest intelligence, after having purified himself by touching water.' "'Vasudeva said, "Hear, ye foremost of Brahmanas and thou Yudhishthira also, O sire, and hear thou too, O Ganga's son, the names that are applied unto Kaparddin. Hear ye, how in former days, I obtained a sight, so difficult to obtain, (of that great god), for the sake of Samva. Verily, in those days was the illustrious deity seen by me in consequence of Yoga-abstraction.[36] After twelve years had expired from the time when Pradyumna, the son of Rukmini, who is endued with great intelligence, slew the Asura Samvara in days of yore, my spouse Jamvavati addressed me. Indeed, beholding Pradyumna and Charudeshna and other sons born of Rukmini, Jamvavati, desirous of a son, said these words unto me, O Yudhishthira,--'Grant me, O thou of unfading glory, a son endued with heroism, the foremost of mighty men, possessed of the most agreeable features, sinless in conduct, and like unto thyself. And O, let there be no delay on thy part in granting this prayer of mine. There is nothing in the three worlds that is unattainable by thee, O perpetuator of Yadu's race, thou canst create other worlds if only thou wishest it. Observing a vow for twelve years and purifying thyself, thou hadst adored the Lord of all creatures (viz., Mahadeva) and then begot upon Rukmini the sons that she has obtained from thee, viz., Charudeshna and Sucharu and Charuvesa and Yasodhana and Charusravas and Charuyasas and Pradyumna and Sambhu. O slayer of Madhu, do thou grant to me a son like unto those of great powers whom thou hast begotten upon Rukmini?'--Thus addressed by the princess, I replied unto her of slender waist,--'Let me have thy permission (to leave thee for some time), O queen. I shall certainly obey thy behest.' She answered me, saying,--'Go, and may success and prosperity always attend thee. Let Brahma and Siva and Kasyapa, the Rivers, those deities that preside over the wind, the soil, all deciduous herbs, those Chhandas (Rhymes) that are regarded as bearers of the libations poured in sacrifices, the Rishis, Earth, the Oceans, the sacrificial presents, those syllables that are uttered for completing the cadences of Samans, the Rikshas, the Pitris, the Planets, the spouses of the deities, the celestial maidens, the celestial mothers, the great cycles, kine, Chandramas, Savitri, Agni, Savitri, the knowledge of the Vedas, the seasons, the year, small and big divisions of time, e.g., the Kshanas, the Labas, the Muhurtas, the Nimeshas, and the Yugas in succession, protect thee, O Yadava, and keep thee in happiness, wherever thou mayst stay. Let no danger overtake thee on thy way, and let no heedlessness be thine, O sinless one.'--Thus blessed by her, I took her leave, bidding farewell unto the daughter of the prince of apes. Repairing then into the presence of that foremost of men, viz., my father, of my mother, of the king, and of Ahuka, I informed them of what the daughter of the prince of the Vidyadharas, in great affliction, had said unto me. Bidding them farewell with a sorrowful heart, I then repaired to Gada and to Rama of great might. These two cheerfully addressed me saying,--Let thy penances increase without any obstruction.--Having obtained the permission of all of them, I thought of Garuda. He immediately came to me and bore me to Himavat (at my bidding). Arrived at Himavat, I dismissed him. There on that foremost of mountains, I beheld many wonderful sights. I saw an excellent, wonderful, and agreeable retreat for the practice of penances. That delightful retreat was owned by the high-souled Upamanyu who was a descendant of Vyaghrapada. That retreat is applauded and reverenced by the deities and the Gandharvas, and seemed to be covered with Vedic beauty. It was adorned with Dhavas and Kakubhas and Kadamvas and Cocas, with Kuruvakas and Ketakas and Jamvus and Patalas, with banians and Varunakas and Vatsanabhas and Vilwas, with Saralas and Kapitthas and Piyalas and Salas and palmyras with Vadaris and Kundas and Punnagas and Asokas and Amras and Kovidaras and Champakas and Panasas, and with diverse other trees endued with fruits and flowers. And that retreat was also decked with the straight stems of the Musa Supienta.[37] Truly, that asylum was adorned with diverse other kinds of trees and with diverse kinds of fruits forming the food of diverse kinds of birds. Heaps of ashes (of sacrificial fires) were thrown in proper places all around, which added to the beauty of the scene. It abounded with Rurus and apes and tigers and lions and leopards, with deer of diverse species and peacocks, and with cats and snakes. Indeed, large numbers of other animals also were seen there, as also buffaloes and bears. Delicious breezes constantly blew bearing the melodious strains of celestial nymphs. The babblings of mountain rivulets and springs, the sweet notes of winged choristers, the gruntings of elephants, the delicious stains of Kinnaras, and the auspicious voice of ascetics singing the Samans, O hero, and diverse other kinds of music, rendered that retreat extremely charming. The very imagination cannot conceive another retreat as delightful as the one I beheld. There were also large houses in that asylum, intended for keeping the sacred fire, and covered all over with flowering creepers. It was adorned with the river Ganga of clear and sacred water. Indeed, the daughter of Jahnu always remained there. It was decked also with many ascetics who were the foremost of all righteous persons, who were endued with high souls, and who resembled fire itself in energy.[38] Some of those ascetics subsisted upon air and some upon water, some were devoted to Japa or the silent recitation of sacred Mantras, and some were engaged in cleansing their souls by practising the virtues of compassion while some amongst them were Yogins devoted to the abstraction of Yoga-meditation. Some amongst them subsisted upon smoke only, and some subsisted upon fire, and some upon milk. Thus was that retreat adorned with many foremost of regenerate persons. And some there were amongst them that had taken the vow of eating and drinking like kine,--that is, by giving up the use of the hands at once. And some used only two pieces of stone for husking their grain, and some used their teeth only for that purpose. And some subsisted by drinking only the rays of the moon, and some by drinking only froth. And some had betaken themselves to vow of living like deer.[39] And some there were that lived upon the fruits of the Ficus religiosa, and some that used to live upon water. And some dressed themselves in rags and some in animal skins and some in barks of trees. Indeed, I beheld diverse ascetics of the foremost order observing these and other painful vows. I desired then to enter that asylum. Verily, that asylum was honoured and adored by the deities and all high-souled beings, by Siva and others, O Bharata, and by all creatures of righteous acts. Thus addressed, it stood in all its beauty on the breast of Himavat, like the lunar disc in the firmament. The mongoose sported there with the snake, and the tiger with the deer, like friends, forgetting their natural enmity, in consequence of the energy of those ascetics of blazing penances and for their proximity to these high-souled ones. In that foremost of asylums, which was delightful to all creatures, inhabited by many foremost of Brahmanas fully conversant with the Vedas and their branches, and by many high-souled Rishis celebrated for the difficult vows they observed, I saw, as soon as I entered, a puissant Rishi with matted locks on head and dressed in rags, who seemed to blaze forth like fire with his penances and energy. Waited upon by his disciples and possessed of tranquil soul, that foremost of Brahmanas was young in aspect. His name was Upamanyu. Unto me who bowed unto him with a nod of the head, he said,--'Welcome art thou, O thou of eyes like lotus petals. Today, by this visit of thine, we see that our penances have borne fruit. Thou art worthy of our adoration, but thou adorest us still. Thou art worthy of being seen, but thou desirest to see me.'--Joining my hands I addressed him the usual enquiries respecting the well-being of the animals and birds that resided in his asylum, of the progress of his righteousness, and of his disciples. The illustrious Upamanyu then addressed me in words that were exceedingly sweet and delightful,--'Thou shalt, O Krishna, obtain without doubt a son like unto thyself. Betaking thyself to severe penances, do thou gratify Isana, the Lord of all creatures. That divine Master, O Adhokshaja, sporteth here with his spouse by his side. O Janarddana, it was here that the deities with all the Rishis, in days of yore, gratified that foremost of deities by their penances and Brahmacharyya and truth and self-restraint, and succeeded in obtaining the fruition of many high desires. That illustrious god is verily the vast receptacle of all energies and penances. Projecting into existence and withdrawing once more unto himself all things fraught with good and evil, that inconceivable Deity whom thou seekest, O destroyer of foes, lives here with his spouse. He who took his birth as the Danava named Hiranyakashipu, whose strength was so great that he could shake the very mountains of Meru, succeeded in obtaining from Mahadeva the puissance belonging to all the deities and enjoyed it for ten millions of years. He who was the foremost of all his sons and who was celebrated by the name of Mandara, succeeded, through the boon he had obtained from Mahadeva, in fighting Sakra for a million of years. The terrible discus of Vishnu and the thunderbolt of Indra were both unable to make the slightest impression, O Kesava, in days of yore, upon the body of that great cause of universal affliction.[40] The discus which thou bearest, O sinless one, was given unto thee by Mahadeva after he had slain a Daitya that was proud of his strength and used to live within the waters. That discus, blazing with energy and like unto fire, was created by the great god having for his device the bull. Wonderful and irresistible in energy it was given unto thee by that illustrious god. In consequence of its blazing energy it was incapable of being gazed at by any person save Siva the wielder of Pinaka. It was for this reason that Bhava (Siva) bestowed upon it the name of Sudarsana. From that time the name Sudarsana came to be current in all the worlds. Even the weapon, O Kesava, failed to make the slightest impression on the body of Hiranyakashipu's son Mandara, that appeared like an evil planet in the three worlds. Hundreds of Chakras like thine and thunderbolts like that of Sakra, could not inflict a scratch on the body of that evil planet endued with great might, who had obtained a boon from Mahadeva. Afflicted by the mighty Mandara, the deities fought hard against him and his associates, all of whom had obtained boons from Mahadeva. Gratified with another Danava named Vidyutprabha, Mahadeva granted to him the sovereignty of the three worlds. That Danava remained the sovereign of the three worlds for a hundred thousand years. And Mahadeva said unto him,--"Thou shalt become one of my attendants."--Indeed, the puissant Lord further bestowed upon him the boon of a hundred millions of children. The Master without birth, of all creatures further gave the Danava the region known by the name of Kusadwipa for his kingdom. Another great Asura, of the name of Satamukha, was created by Brahma. For a hundred years he poured on the sacrificial fire (as offerings unto Mahadeva) the flesh of his own body. Gratified with such penances, Sankara said unto him,--"What can I do for thee?"--Satamukha replied unto him, saying,--"O thou that art most wonderful, let me have the power of creating new creatures and animals. Give also unto me, O foremost of all deities, eternal power."--The puissant lord, thus addressed by him, said unto him,--"So be it."--The Self-born Brahma, concentrating his mind in Yoga,[41] in days of yore, made a sacrifice for three hundred years, with the object of obtaining children. Mahadeva granted him a thousand sons possessed of qualifications commensurate with the merits of the sacrifice. Without doubt, thou knowest, O Krishna, the lord of Yoga, him that is, who is sung by the deities. The Rishi known by the name of Yajnavalkya is exceedingly virtuous. By adoring Mahadeva he has acquired great fame. The great ascetic who is Parasara's son, viz., Vyasa, of soul set on Yoga, has obtained great celebrity by adoring Sankara. The Valikhilyas were on a former occasion disregarded by Maghavat. Filled with wrath at this, they gratified the illustrious Rudra. That lord of the universe, that foremost one of all the deities, thus gratified by the Valikhilyas, said unto them,--"Ye shall succeed by your penances in creating a bird that will rob Indra of the Amrita." Through the wrath of Mahadeva on a former occasion, all the waters disappeared. The deities gratified him by performing a sacrifice called Saptakapala, and caused, through his grace, other waters to flow into the worlds. Verily, when the three-eyed deity became gratified, water once more appeared in the world. The wife of Atri, who was conversant with the Vedas, abandoned her husband in a huff and said,--"I shall no longer live in subjection to that ascetic."--Having said these words, she sought the protection of Mahadeva. Through fear of her lord, Atri passed three hundred years, abstaining from all food. And all this time she slept on wooden clubs for the purpose of gratifying Bhava. The great deity then appeared unto her and then smilingly addressed her, saying--"Thou shalt obtain a son. And thou shalt get that son without the need of a husband, simply through the grace of Rudra. Without doubt that son, born in the race of his father, shall become celebrated for his worth, and assume a name after thee." The illustrious Vikarna also, O slayer of Madhu, full of devotion to Mahadeva, gratified him with severe penances and obtained high and happy success. Sakalya, too, of restrained soul, adored Bhava in a mental sacrifice that he performed for nine hundred years, O Kesava. Gratified with him the illustrious deity said unto him,--"Thou shalt become a great author. O son, inexhaustible shall thy fame be in the three worlds. Thy race also shall never come to an end and shall be adorned by many great Rishis that shall take birth in it. Thy son will become the foremost of Brahmanas and will make the Sutras of thy work." There was a celebrated Rishi of the name of Savarni in the Krita age. Here, in this asylum, he underwent severe penances for six thousand years. The illustrious Rudra said,--"I am gratified with thee, O sinless one! Without being subject to decrepitude or death, thou shalt become an author celebrated through all the worlds!"--In days of yore, Sakra, also, in Baranasi, filled with devotion, O Janarddana, adored Mahadeva who has empty space alone for his garments and who is smeared with ashes as an agreeable unguent. Having adored Mahadeva thus, he obtained the sovereignty of the celestials. Narada also, in days of yore, adored the great Bhava with devotion of heart. Gratified with him, Mahadeva, that preceptor of the celestial preceptor, said these words.--"No one shall be thy equal in energy and penances. Thou shalt always attend upon me with thy songs and instrumental music." Hear also, O Madhava, how in former times I succeeded in obtaining a sight of that god of gods, that Master of all creatures, O Lord. Hear also in detail for what object, O thou of great puissance. I invoked with restrained senses and mind that illustrious deity endued with supreme energy. I shall, O sinless one, tell thee with full details all that I succeeded in obtaining from that god of gods, viz., Maheswara. In ancient times, viz., Krita age, O son, there was a Rishi of great fame, named Vyaghrapada. He was celebrated for his knowledge and mastery over the Vedas and their branches. I was born as the son of that Rishi and Dhaumya took birth as my younger brother. On a certain occasion, Madhava, accompanied by Dhaumya, I came upon the asylum of certain Rishis of cleansed souls. There I beheld a cow that was being milked. I saw the milk and it appeared to me to resemble Amrita itself in taste. I then came home, and impelled by childishness, I addressed my mother and said,--"Give me some food prepared with milk."--There was no milk in the house, and accordingly my mother was much grieved at my asking for it. My mother took a piece of (rice) cake and boiled it in water, Madhava. The water became whitened and my mother placed it before us saying that it was milk and bade us drink it. I had before that drunk milk on one occasion, for my father had, at the time of a sacrifice, taken me to the residence of some of our great kinsmen. A celestial cow, who delights the deities, was being milked on that occasion. Drinking her milk that resembled Amrita in taste, I knew what the virtues are of milk. I therefore, at once understood the origin of the substance that my mother offered me, telling me that it was milk. Verily, the taste of that cake, O son, did not afford me any pleasure whatever. Impelled by childishness I then addressed mother, saying,--"This O mother, that thou hast given me is not any preparation of milk."--Filled with grief and sorrow at this, and embracing me from parental affection and smelling my head, O Madhava, she said unto me,--"Whence, O child, can ascetics of cleansed souls obtain food prepared with milk? Such men always reside in the forest and subsist upon bulbs and roots and fruits. Whence shall we who live by the banks of rivers that are the resort of the Valikhilyas, we who have mountains and forest, for our home,--whence, indeed, O child, shall we obtain milk? We, dear child, live (sometimes) on air and sometimes on water. We dwell in asylums in the midst of forests and woods. We habitually abstain from all kinds of food that are taken by persons living in villages and towns. We are accustomed to only such food as is supplied by the produce of the wilderness. There cannot be any milk, O child, in the wilderness where there are no offspring of Surabhi.[42] Dwelling on the banks of rivers or in caves or on mountain-breasts, or in tirthas and other places of the kind, we pass our time in the practice of penances and the recitation of sacred Mantras, Siva being our highest refuge. Without gratifying the boon-giving Sthanu of unfading glory,--him, that is, who has three eyes,--whence, O child, can one obtain food prepared with milk and good robes and other objects of enjoyment in the world? Do thou devote thyself, O dear son, to Sankara with thy whole soul. Through his grace, O child, thou art sure to obtain all such objects as administer to the indulgence of all thy wishes,"--Hearing these words of my mother, O slayer of foes, that day, I joined my hands in reverence and bowing unto her, said,--"O mother, who this Mahadeva? In what manner can one gratify him? Where does that god reside? How may he be seen? With what does he become pleased? What also is the form of Sarva? How may one succeed in obtaining a knowledge of him? If gratified, will he, O mother, show himself unto me?"--After I had said these words, O Krishna, to my mother, she, filled with parental affection, smelt my head, O Govinda, her eyes covered with tears the while. Gently patting my body, O slayer of Madhu, my mother, adopting a tone of great humility, addressed me in the following words, O best of the deities. "'"'My mother said, "Mahadeva is exceedingly difficult to be known by persons of uncleansed souls. These men are incapable of bearing him in their hearts or comprehending him at all. They can retain him in their minds. They cannot seize him, nor can they obtain a sight of him. Men of wisdom aver that his forms are many. Many, again, are the places in which he resides. Many are the forms of his Grace. Who is there that can understand in their details the acts, which are all excellent, of Isa, or of all the forms that he has assumed in days of yore? Who can relate how Sarva sports and how he becomes gratified? Maheswara of universal form resides in the hearts of all creatures. While Munis discoursed on the auspicious and excellent acts of Isana, I have heard from them how, impelled by compassion towards his worshippers, he grants them a sight of his person. For the purpose of showing a favour unto the Brahmanas, the denizens of heaven have recited for their information the diverse forms that were assumed by Mahadeva in days of yore. Thou hast asked me about these. I shall recite them to thee, O son." "'"'My mother continued, "Bhava assumes the forms of Brahma and Vishnu and the chief of the celestials of the Rudras, the Adityas, and the Aswins; and of those deities that are called Viswadevas. He assumes the forms also of men and women, of Pretas and Pisachas, of Kiratas and Savaras, and of all aquatic animals. That illustrious deity assumes the forms of also those Savaras that dwell in the woods and forests. He assumes the forms of tortoises and fishes and conches. He it is that assumes the forms of those coral sprouts that are used as ornaments by men. He assumes also the forms of Yakshas, Rakshasas and Snakes, of Daityas and Danavas. Indeed, the illustrious god assumes the forms of all creatures too that live in holes. He assumes the forms of tigers and lions and deer, of wolves and bears and birds, of owls and of jackals as well. He it is that assumes the forms of swans and crows and peacocks, of chameleons and lizards and storks. He it is that assumes the forms of cranes and vultures and Chakravakas. Verily, he it is that assumes the forms of Chasas and of mountains also. O son, it is Mahadeva that assumes the forms of kine and elephants and horses and camels and asses. He assumes also the forms of goats and leopards and diverse other varieties of animals. It is Bhava who assumes the forms of diverse kinds of birds of beautiful plumage. It is Mahadeva who bears the forms of persons with sticks and those with umbrellas and those with calabashes among Brahmanas.[43] He sometimes becomes six-faced and sometimes becomes multifaced. He sometimes assumes forms having three eyes and forms having many heads. And he sometimes assumes forms having many millions of legs and forms having innumerable stomachs and faces and forms endued with innumerable arms and innumerable sides. He sometimes appears surrounded by innumerable spirits and ghosts. He it is that assumes the forms of Rishis and Gandharvas, and of Siddhas and Charanas. He sometimes assumes a form that is rendered white with the ashes he smears on it and is adorned with a half-moon on the forehead. Adored with diverse hymns uttered with diverse kinds of voice and worshipped with diverse Mantras fraught with encomiums, he, that is sometimes called Sarva, is the Destroyer of all creatures in the universe, and it is upon him, again, that all creatures rest as their common foundation. Mahadeva is the soul of all creatures. He pervades all things. He is the speaker of all discourses (on duties and rituals). He resides everywhere and should be known as dwelling in the hearts of all creatures in the universe. He knows the desire cherished by every one of his worshippers. He becomes acquainted with the object in which one pays him adorations. Do thou then, if it pleases thee, seek the protection of the chief of the deities. He sometimes rejoices, and sometimes yields to wrath, and sometimes utters the syllable Hum with a very loud noise. He sometimes arms himself with the discus, sometimes with the trident, sometimes with the mace, sometimes with the heavy mullets, sometimes with the scimitar, and sometimes with the battle axe. He it is that assumes the form of Sesha who sustains the world on his head. He has snakes for his belt, and his ears are adorned with ear-rings made of snakes. Snakes form also the sacred thread he wears. An elephant skin forms his upper garment.[44] He sometimes laughs and sometimes sings and sometimes dances most beautifully. Surrounded by innumerable spirits and ghosts, he sometimes plays on musical instruments. Diverse, again are the instruments upon which he plays, and sweet the sounds they yield. He sometimes wanders (over crematoria), sometimes yawns, sometimes cries, and sometimes causes others to cry. He sometimes assumes the guise of one that is mad, and sometimes of one that is intoxicated, and he sometimes utters words that are exceedingly sweet. Endued with appalling fierceness, he sometimes laughs loudly, frightening all creatures with his eyes. He sometimes sleeps and sometimes remains awake and sometimes yawns as he pleases. He sometimes recites sacred Mantras and sometimes becomes the deity of those Mantras which are recited. He sometimes performs penances and sometimes becomes the deity for whose adoration those penances are undergone. He sometimes makes gifts and sometimes receives those gifts; sometimes disposes himself in Yoga and sometimes becomes the object of the Yoga contemplation of others. He may be seen on the sacrificial platform or in the sacrificial stake; in the midst of the cow-pen or in the fire. He may not again be seen there. He may be seen as a boy or as an old man. He sports with the daughters and the spouses of the Rishis. His hair is long and stands erect. He is perfectly naked, for he has the horizon for his garments. He is endued with terrible eyes. He is fair, he is darkish, he is dark, he is pale, he is of the colour of smoke, and he is red. He is possessed of eyes that are large and terrible. He has empty space for his covering and he it is that covers all things. Who is there that can truly understand the limits of Mahadeva who is formless, who is one and indivisible, who conjures of illusions, who is of the cause of all actions and destructive operations in the universe, who assumes the form of Hiranyagarbha, and who is without beginning and without end, and who is without birth.[45] He lives in the heart (of every creature). He is the prana, he is the mind, and he is Jiva (that is invested in the material case). He is the soul of Yoga, and it is that is called Yoga. He is the Yoga-contemplation into which Yogins enter.[46] He is the Supreme Soul. Indeed Maheswara, the purity in essence, is capable of being comprehended not by the senses but through only the Soul seizing his existence. He plays on diverse musical instruments. He is a vocalist. He has a hundred thousand eyes, he has one mouth, he has two mouths, he has three mouths, and he has many mouths. Devoting thyself to him, setting thy heart upon him, depending upon him, and accepting him as thy one refuse, do thou, O son, adore Mahadeva and then mayst thou obtain the fruition of all thy wishes." Hearing those words of my mother, O slayer of foes, from that day my devotion was directed to Mahadeva, having nothing else for its object. I then applied myself to the practice of the austerest penances for gratifying Sankara. For one thousand years I stood on my left toe. After that I passed one thousand years, subsisting only upon fruits. The next one thousand years I passed, subsisting upon the fallen leaves of trees. The next thousand years I passed, subsisting upon water only. After that I passed seven hundred years, subsisting on air alone. In this way, I adored Mahadeva for a full thousand years of the celestials. After this, the puissant Mahadeva, the Master of all the universe, became gratified with me. Desirous of ascertaining whether I was solely devoted to him and him alone, he appeared before me in the form of Sakra surrounded by all the deities. As the celebrated Sakra, he had a thousand eyes on his person and was armed with the thunderbolt. And he rode on an elephant whose complexion was of the purest white, with eyes red, ears folded, the temporal juice trickling down his cheeks, with trunk contracted, terrible to look at, and endued with four tusks. Indeed, riding on such an elephant, the illustrious chief of the deities seemed to blaze forth with his energy. With a beautiful crown on his head and adorned with garlands round his neck and bracelets round his arms, he approached the spot where I was. A white umbrella was held over his head. And he was waited upon by many Apsaras, and many Gandharvas sang his praise. Addressing me, he said,--"O foremost of regenerate persons, I have been gratified with thee. Beg of me whatever boon thou desirest,"--Hearing these words of Sakra I did not become glad. Verily, O Krishna, I answered the chief of the celestials in these words.--"I do not desire any boon at thy hands, or from the hands of any other deity. O amiable deity, I tell thee truly, that it is Mahadeva only from whom I have boons to ask. True, true it is, O Sakra, true are these words that I say unto thee. No other words are at all agreeable to me save those which relate to Maheswara. At the command of Pashupati, that Lord of all creatures, I am ready to become a worm or a tree with many branches. If not obtained through the grace represented by Mahadeva's boons, the very sovereignty of the three worlds would not be acceptable to me. Let me be born among the very Chandalas but let me still be devoted to the feet of Hara. Without, again, being devoted to that Lord of all creatures, I would not like to have birth in the palace of Indra himself. If a person be wanting in devotion to that Lord of the universe,--that Master of the deities and the Asuras,--his misery will not end even if from want of food he has to subsist upon only air and water.[47] What is the need of other discourses that are even fraught with other kinds of morality and righteousness, unto those persons who do not like to live even a moment without thinking of feet of Mahadeva? When the unrighteous or sinful Kali Yuga comes, one should never pass a moment without devoting his heart upon Mahadeva. One that has drunk the Amrita constituted by the devotion to Hara, one becomes freed from the fear of the world. One that has not obtained the grace of Mahadeva can never succeed to devote oneself to Mahadeva for a single day or for half a day or for a Muhurta or for a Kshana or for a Lava (very small unit of time). At the command of Mahadeva I shall cheerfully become a worm or an insect, but I have no relish for even the sovereignty of the three worlds, if bestowed by thee, O Sakra. At the word of Hara I would become even a dog. In fact, that would accord with my highest wish. If not given by Maheswara, I would not have the sovereignty of the very deities. I do not wish to have this dominion of the Heavens. I do not wish to have the sovereignty of the celestials. I do not wish to have the region of Brahma. Indeed, I do not wish to have that cessation of individual existence which is called Emancipation and which involves a complete identification with Brahma. But I want to become the slave of Hara. As long as that Lord of all creatures, the illustrious Mahesa, with crown on his head and body possessed of the pure white complexion of the lunar disc, does not become gratified with me, so long shall I cheerfully bear all those afflictions, due to a hundred repetitions of decrepitude, death and birth, that befall to the lot of embodied beings. What person in the universe can obtain tranquillity, without gratifying Rudra that is freed from decripitude and death, that is endued with the effulgence of the Sun, the Moon, or the fire, that is the root or original cause of everything real and unreal in the three worlds, and that exists as one and indivisible entity? If in consequence of my faults, rebirths be mine, I shall, in those new births, devote myself solely to Bhava." "'"'Indra said, "What reason canst thou assign for the existence of a Supreme Being or for His being the cause of all causes?"' "'"Upamanyu said, '"I solicit boons from that great Deity named Siva whom utterers of Brahma have described as existent and non-existent, manifest and unmanifest, eternal or immutable, one and many. I solicit boons from Him who is without beginning and middle and end, who is Knowledge and Puissance, who is inconceivable and who is the Supreme Soul. I solicit boons from Him whence comes all Puissance, who has not been produced by any one, who is immutable, and who, though himself unsprung from any seed, is the seed of all things in the universe. I solicit boons from Him who is blazing Effulgence, (beyond Darkness) who is the essence of all penances, who transcends all faculties of which we are possessed and which we may devote for the purpose of comprehending him, and by knowing whom every one becomes freed from grief or sorrow. I worship him, O Purandara, who is conversant with the creation of all elements and the thought of all living creatures, and who is the original cause of the existence or creation of all creatures, who is omnipresent, and who has the puissance to give everything.[48] I solicit boons from Him who cannot be comprehended by argument, who represents the object of the Sankhya and the Yoga systems of philosophy, and who transcends all things, and whom all persons conversant with the topics of enquiry worship and adore.[49] I solicit boons from Him, O Maghavat, who is the soul of Maghavat himself, who is said to be the God of the gods, and who is the Master of all creatures. I solicit boons from Him who it is that first created Brahma, that creator of all the worlds, having filled Space (with His energy) and evoked into existence the primeval egg.[50] Who else than that Supreme Lord could be creator of Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Space, Mind, and that which is called Mahat? Tell me, O Sakra, who else than Siva could create Mind, Understanding, Consciousness or Ego, the Tanmatras, and the senses? Who is there higher than Siva?[51] The wise say that the Grandsire Brahma is the creator of this universe. Brahma, however, acquired his high puissance and prosperity by adoring and gratifying Mahadeva, that God of gods. That high puissance (consisting of all the three attributes of creation, protection, and destruction), which dwells in that illustrious Being who is endowed with the quality of being one, who created Brahma, Vishnu, and Rudra, was derived from Mahadeva. Tell me who is there that is superior to the Supreme Lord?[52] Who else than that God of gods is competent to unite the sons of Diti with lordship and puissance, judging by the sovereignty and the power of oppressing conferred upon the foremost of the Daityas and Danavas?[53] The different points of the horizon, Time, the Sun, all fiery entities, planets, wind, water, and the stars and constellations,--these, know thou, are from Mahadeva. Tell us who is higher than the Supreme Lord? Who else is there, except Mahadeva, in the matter of the creation of Sacrifice and the destruction of Tripura? Who else except Mahadeva, the grinder of the foes, has offered lordship to the principal?[54] What need, O Purandara, of many well-sounding statements fraught with spacious sophisms, when I behold thee of a thousand eyes, O best of the deities,--thee that art worshipped by Siddhas and Gandharvas and the deities and the Rishis? O best of the Kusikas, all this is due to the grace of that God of gods viz., Mahadeva. Know, O Kesava, that this all, consisting of animate and inanimate existences with heaven and other unseen entities, which occur in this world, and which has the all-pervading Lord for their soul, has flowed from Maheswara and has been created (by him) for enjoyment by Jiva.[55] In the worlds that are known by the names of Bhu, Bhuva, Swah, and Maha, in the midst of the mountains of Lokaloka, in the islands, in the mountains of Meru, in all things that yield happiness, and in the hearts of all creatures, O illustrious Maghavat, resides Mahadeva, as persons conversant with all the topics of enquiry say. If, O Sakra, the Devas (deities) and the Asuras could see any other puissant form than Bhava's, would not both of them, especially the former, when opposed and afflicted by the latter, have sought the protection of that form? In all hostile encounters of the deities, the Yakshas, the Uragas and the Rakshasas, that terminating in mutual destruction, it is Bhava that gives unto those that meet with destruction, puissance commensurate with their respective locations as dependent upon their acts. Tell me, who else than Maheswara is there for bestowing boons upon, and once more chastising the Andhaka and Sukra and Dundubhi and Maharshi and many foremost of Yakshas, Indra and Vala and Rakshasas and the Nivatakavachas? Was not the vital seed of Mahadeva, that Master of both the deities and the Asuras, poured as a libation upon the fire? From that seed sprung a mountain of gold. Who else is there whose seed can be said to be possessed of such virtue?[56] Who else in this world is praised as having the horizon only for his garments? Who else can be said to be a Brahmacharin with his vital seed drawn up? Who else is there that has half his body occupied by his dear spouse?[57] Who else is there that has been able to subjugate Kama, the god of desire? Tell me, O Indra, what other Being possesses that high region of supreme felicity that is applauded by all the deities? Who else has the crematorium as his sporting ground? Who else is there that is so praised for his dancing? Whose puissance and worship remain immutable? Who else is there that sports with spirits and ghosts? Tell me, O deity, who else has associate that are possessed of strength like his own and that are, therefore, proud of that strength or puissance?[58] Who else is there whose status is applauded as unchangeable and worshipped with reverence by the three worlds? Who else is there that pours rain, gives heat, and blazes forth in Energy? From whom else do we derive our wealth of herbs? Who else upholds all kinds of wealth? Who else sports as much as he pleases in the three worlds of mobile and immobile things? O Indra, know Maheswara to be the original cause (of everything). He is adored by Yogins, by Rishis, by the Gandharvas, and by the Siddhas, with the aid of knowledge, (of ascetic) success, and of the rites laid down in the scriptural ordinances.[59] He is adored by both the deities and the Asuras with the aid of sacrifices by acts and the affliction of the ritual laid down in the scriptures. The fruits of action can never touch him for he transcends them all. Being such, I call him the original cause of everything.[60] He is both gross and subtile. He is without compare. He cannot be conceived by the senses. He is endued with attributes and he is divested of them. He is the lord of attributes, for they are under his control. Even such is the place that is Maheswara's. He is the cause of the maintenance and the creation (of the universe). He is the cause of the universe and the cause also of its destruction. He is the Past, the Present, and the Future. He is the parent of all things. Verily, He is the cause of every thing. He is that which is mutable, He is the unmanifest, He is Knowledge; He is ignorance; He is every act, He is every omission; He is righteousness; and He is unrighteousness. Him, O Sakra, do I call the cause of every thing. Behold, O Indra, in the image of Mahadeva the indications of both the sexes. That god of gods, viz., Rudra, that cause of both creation and destruction, displays in his form the indications of both the sexes as the one cause of the creation of the universe. My mother formerly told me that he is the cause of the universe and the one cause of everything. There is no one that is higher than Isa, O Sakra. If it pleases thee, do thou throw thyself on his kindness and protection. Thou hast visible evidence, O chief of the celestials, of the fact that the universe has sprung from the union of the sexes (as represented by Mahadeva). The universe, thou knowest, is the sum of what is vested with attributes and what else is divested of attributes and has for its immediate cause the seeds of Brahma and others. Brahma and Indra and Hutasana and Vishnu and all the other deities, along with the Daityas and the Asuras, crowned with the fruition of a thousand desires, always say that there is none that is higher than Mahadeva.[61] Impelled by desire, I solicit, with restrained mind, that god known to all the mobile and immobile universe,--him, that is, who has been spoken of as the best and highest of all the gods, and who is auspiciousness itself, for obtaining without delay that highest of all acquisitions, viz., Emancipation. What necessity is there of other reasons (for establishing) what I believe? The supreme Mahadeva is the cause of all causes. We have never heard that the deities have, at any time, adored the sign of any other god than Mahadeva. If Maheswara be not accepted, tell me, if thou hast ever heard of it, who else is there whose sign has been worshipped or is being worshipped by all the deities? He whose sign is always worshipped by Brahma, by Vishnu, by thee, O Indra, with all the other deities, is verily the foremost of all adorable deities. Brahma has for his sign the lotus, Vishnu has for his the discus, Indra has for his sign the thunder-bolt. But the creatures of the world do not bear any of the signs that distinguish these deities. On the other hand, all creatures bear the signs that mark Mahadeva and his spouse. Hence, all creatures must be regarded as belonging to Maheswara. All creatures of the feminine sex, have sprung from Uma's nature as their cause, and hence it is they bear the mark of femininity that distinguishes Uma; while all creatures that are masculine, having sprung from Siva, bear the masculine mark that distinguishes Siva. That person who says that there is, in the three worlds with their mobile and immobile creatures, any other cause than the Supreme Lord, and that which is not marked with the mark of either Mahadeva or his spouse should be regarded as very wretched and should not be counted among the creatures of the universe. Every being with the mark of the masculine sex should be known to be of Isana, while every being with the mark of the feminine sex should be known to be of Uma. This universe of mobile and immobile creatures is provided by two kinds of forms (viz., male and female). It is from Mahadeva that I wish to obtain boons. Failing in this, O Kausika, I would rather prefer dissolution itself. Go or remain, O Sakra, as thou, O slayer of Vala, desirest. I wish to have boons or curses from Mahadeva. No other deity shall I ever acknowledge, nor would I have from any other deity the fruition of all my wishes.--Having said these words unto the chief of the celestials, I became overwhelmed with grief at the thought of Mahadeva not having been gratified with me not withstanding my severe austerities. Within the twinkling of an eye, however, I saw the celestial elephant I had beheld before me transformed into a bull as white as a swan, or the Jasminum pubescens, or a stalk of the lotus or silver, or the ocean of milk. Of huge body, the hair of its tail was black and the hue of its eyes was tawny like that of honey. Its horns were hard as adamant and had the colour of gold. With their very sharp ends, whose hue was a mild red, the bull seemed to tear the Earth. The animal was adorned all over with ornaments made of the purest gold. Its face and hoofs and nose and ears were exceedingly beautiful and its waist too exceedingly well-formed. Its flanks were possessed of great beauty and its neck was very thick. Its whole form was exceedingly agreeable and beautiful to look at. Its hump shone with great beauty and seemed to occupy the whole of its shoulder-joint. And it looked like the summit of a mountain of snow or like a cliff of white clouds in the sky. Upon the back of that animal I beheld seated the illustrious Mahadeva with his spouse Uma. Verily, Mahadeva shone like the lord of stars while he is at his full. The fire born of his energy resembled in effulgence the lightening that flashes amid clouds. Verily, it seemed as if a thousand suns rose there, filling every side with a dazzling splendour. The energy of the Supreme Lord looked like the Samvartaka fire which destroys all creatures at the end of the Yuga. Overspread with that energy, the horizon became such that I could see nothing on any side. Filled with anxiety I once more thought what it could mean. That energy, however, did not pervade every side for any length of time, for soon, through the illusion of that god of gods, the horizon became clear. I then beheld the illustrious Sthanu or Maheswara seated on the back of his bull, of blessed and agreeable appearance and looking like a smokeless fire. And the great god was accompanied by Parvati of faultless features. Indeed, I beheld the blue-throated and high-souled Sthanu, unattached to everything, that receptacle of all kinds of force, endued with eight and ten arms and adorned with all kinds of ornaments. Clad in white vestments, he wore white garlands, and had white unguents smeared upon his limbs. The colour of his banner, irresistible in the universe, was white. The sacred thread round his person was also white. He was surrounded with associates, all possessed with prowess equal to his own, who were singing or dancing or playing on diverse kinds of musical instruments. A crescent moon, of pale hue, formed his crown, and placed on his forehead it looked like the moon that rises in the autumnal firmament. He seemed to dazzle with splendour, in consequence of his three eyes that looked like three suns. The garland of the purest white, that was on his body, shone like a wreath of lotuses, of the purest white, adorned with jewels and gems. I also beheld, O Govinda, the weapons in their embodied forms and fraught with every kind of energy, that belong to Bhava of immeasurable prowess. The high-souled deity held a bow whose hues resembled those of the rainbow. That bow is celebrated under the name of the Pinaka and is in reality a mighty snake. Indeed, that snake of seven heads and vast body, of sharp fangs and virulent poison, of large neck and the masculine sex, was twined round with the cord that served as its bowstring. And there was a shaft whose splendour looked like that of the sun or of the fire that appears at the end of the Yuga. Verily, that shaft was the excellent Pasupata that mighty and terrible weapon, which is without a second, indescribable for its power, and capable of striking every creature with fear. Of vast proportions, it seemed to constantly vomit sparks of fire. Possessed of one foot, of large teeth, and a thousand heads and thousand stomachs, it has a thousand arms, a thousand tongues, and a thousand eyes. Indeed, it seemed to continually vomit fire. O thou of mighty arms, that weapon is superior to the Brahma, the Narayana, the Aindra, the Agneya, and the Varuna weapons. Verily, it is capable of neutralising every other weapon in the universe. It was with that weapon that the illustrious Mahadeva had in days of yore, burnt and consumed in a moment the triple city of the Asuras. With the greatest ease, O Govinda, Mahadeva, using that single arrow, achieved that feat. That weapon, shot by Mahadeva's arms, can, without doubt consume in half the time taken up by a twinkling of the eyes the entire universe with all its mobile and immobile creatures. In the universe there is no being including even Brahma and Vishnu and the deities, that are incapable of being slain by that weapon. O sire, I saw that excellent, wonderful and incomparable weapon in the hand of Mahadeva. There is another mysterious and very powerful weapon which is equal or perhaps superior to the Pasupata weapon. I beheld that also. It is celebrated in all the worlds as the Sum of the Sula-armed Mahadeva. Hurled by the illustrious deity, that weapon is competent to rive the entire Earth or dry up the waters of the ocean or annihilate the entire universe. In days of yore, Yuvanaswa's son, king Mandhatri, that conqueror of the three worlds, possessed of imperial sway and endued with abundant energy, was, with all his troops, destroyed by means of that weapon. Endued with great might and great energy and resembling Sakra himself in prowess, the king, O Govinda, was slain by the Rakshasa Lavana with the aid of this Sula which he had got from Siva. The Sula has a very keen point. Exceedingly terrible, it is capable of causing everybody's hair stand on its end. I saw it in the hand of Mahadeva, as if roaring with rage, having contracted its forehead into three wrinkles. It resembled, O Krishna, a smokeless fire or the sun that rises at the end of the Yuga. The handle of that Sula, was made of a mighty snake. It is really indescribable. It looked like the universal Destroyer himself armed with his noose. I saw this weapon, O Govinda, in the hand of Mahadeva. I beheld also another weapon, viz., that sharp-edged battle-axe which, in days of yore, was given unto Rama by the gratified Mahadeva for enabling him to exterminate the Kshatriyas. It was with this weapon that Rama (of Bhrigu's race) slew in dreadful battle the great Kartaviryya who was the ruler of all the world. It was with that weapon that Jamadagni's son, O Govinda, was able to exterminate the Kshatriyas for one and twenty times. Of blazing edge and exceedingly terrible, that axe was hanging on the shoulder, adorned with a snake, of Mahadeva. Indeed, it shone on Mahadeva's person like the flame of a blazing fire. I beheld innumerable other celestial weapons with Mahadeva of great intelligence. I have, however named only a few, O sinless one, in consequence of their principal character. On the left side of the great god stood the Grandsire Brahma seated on an excellent car unto which were attached swans endued with the speed of the mind. On the same side could be seen Narayana also, seated on the son of Vinata, and bearing the conch, the discus, and the mace. Close to the goddess Uma was Skanda seated on his peacock, bearing his fatal dart and bells, and looking like another Agni. In the front of Mahadeva I beheld Nandi standing armed with his Sula and looking like a second Sankara (for prowess and energy). The Munis headed by the Self-born Manu and Rishis having Bhrigu for their first, and the deities with Sakra at their head, all came there. All the tribes of spirits and ghosts, and the celestial Mothers, stood surrounding Mahadeva and saluting him with reverence. The deities were engaged in singing the praises of Mahadeva by uttering diverse hymns. The Grandsire Brahma uttering a Rathantara, praised Mahadeva. Narayana also, uttering the Jyestha Saman, sang the praises of Bhava. Sakra also did the same with the aid of those foremost of Vedic Mantras, viz., the Sata-Rudriam. Verily, Brahma and Narayana and Sakra,--those three high-souled deities,--shone there like three sacrificial fires. In their midst shone the illustrious God like the sun in the midst of his corona, emerged from autumnal clouds. I beheld myriads of suns and moons, also in the sky, O Kesava. I then praised the illustrious Lord of everything, the supreme Master of the universe."' "'"Upamanyu continued, 'I said, "Salutations to thee, O illustrious one, O thou that constitutest the refuge of all things, O thou that art called Mahadeva! Salutations to thee that assumest the form of Sakra, that art Sakra, and that disguisest thyself in the form and vestments of Sakra. Salutations to thee that art armed with the thunder, to thee that art tawny, and thee that art always armed with the Pinaka. Salutations to thee that always bearest the conch and the Sula. Salutations to thee that art clad in black, to thee that art of dark and curly hair, to thee that hast a dark deer-skin for thy upper garment, to thee that presidest over the eighth lunation of the dark fortnight. Salutations to thee that art of white complexion, to thee that art called white, to thee that art clad in white robes, to thee that hast limbs smeared with white ashes, to thee that art ever engaged in white deeds. Salutations to thee that art red of colour, to thee that art clad in red vestments, to thee that ownest a red banner with red flags, to thee that wearest red garlands and usest red unguents. Salutations to thee that art brown in complexion, to thee that art clad in brown vestments, to thee that hast a brown banner with brown flags, to thee that wearest brown garlands and usest brown unguents. Salutations to thee that hast the umbrella of royalty held over thy head, to thee that wearest the foremost of crowns. Salutations unto thee that art adorned with half a garland and half an armlet, to thee that art decked with one ring for one year, to thee that art endued with the speed of the mind, to thee that art endued with great effulgence. Salutations to thee that art the foremost of deities, to thee that art the foremost of ascetics, to thee that art the foremost of celestials. Salutations to thee that wearest half a wreath of lotuses, to thee that hast many lotuses on thy body. Salutations to thee that hast half thy body smeared with sandal paste, to thee that hast half thy body decked with garlands of flowers and smeared with fragrant unguents.[62] Salutations to thee that art of the complexion of the Sun, to thee that art like the Sun, to thee whose face is like the Sun, to thee that hast eyes each of which is like the Sun. Salutations to thee that art Soma, to thee that art as mild as Soma, to thee that bearest the lunar disc, to thee that art of lunar aspect, to thee that art the foremost of all creatures, to thee that art adorned with a set of the most beautiful teeth. Salutations to thee that art of a dark complexion, to thee that art of a fair complexion, to thee that hast a form half of which is yellow and half white, to thee that hast a body half of which is male and half female, to thee that art both male and female. Salutations to thee that ownest a bull for thy vehicle, to thee that proceedest riding on the foremost of elephants, to thee that art obtained with difficulty, to thee that art capable of going to places unapproachable by others. Salutations to thee whose praises are sung by the Ganas, to thee that art devoted to the diverse Ganas, to thee that followest the track that is trod by the Ganas, to thee that art always devoted to the Ganas as to a vow. Salutations to thee that art of the complexion of white clouds, to thee that hast the splendour of the evening clouds, to thee that art incapable of being described by names, to thee that art of thy own form (having nothing else in the universe with which it can be compared). Salutations to thee that wearest a beautiful garland of red colour, to thee that art clad in robes of red colour. Salutations to thee that hast the crown of the head decked with gems, to thee that art adorned with a half-moon, to thee that wearest many beautiful gems in thy diadem, to thee that hast eight flowers on thy head. Salutations to thee that hast a fiery mouth and fiery eyes, to thee that hast eyes possessing the effulgence of a thousand moons, to thee that art of the form of fire, to thee that art beautiful and agreeable, to thee that art inconceivable and mysterious. Salutations to thee that rangest through the firmament, to thee that lovest and residest in lands affording pasture to kine, to thee that walkest on the Earth, to thee that art the Earth, to thee that art infinite, to thee that art exceedingly auspicious. Salutations to thee that art unclad (or has the horizon alone for thy vestments), to thee that makest a happy home of every place where thou mayst happen to be for the moment. Salutations to thee that hast the universe for thy home, to thee that hast both Knowledge and Felicity for thy Soul. Salutations to thee that always wearest a diadem, to thee that wearest a large armlet, to thee that hast a snake for the garland round thy neck, to thee that wearest many beautiful ornaments on thy person. Salutations to thee that hast the Sun, the Moon, and Agni for thy three eyes, to thee that art possessed of a thousand eyes, to thee that art both male and female, to thee that art divested of sex, to thee that art a Sankhya, to thee that art a Yogin. Salutations to thee that art of the grace of those deities who are worshipped in sacrifices, to thee that art the Atharvans, to thee that art the alleviator of all kinds of disease and pain, to thee that art the dispeller of every sorrow. Salutations to thee that roarest as deep as the clouds, to thee that puttest forth diverse kinds of illusions, to thee that presidest over the soil and over the seed that is sown in it, to thee that art the Creator of everything. Salutations to thee that art the Lord of all the celestials, to thee that art the Master of the universe, to thee that art endued with the speed of the wind, to thee that art of the form of the wind. Salutations to thee that wearest a garland of gold, to thee that sportest on hills and mountains[63], to thee that art adorned by all who are enemies of the gods, to thee that art possessed of fierce speed and energy. Salutations to thee that torest away one of the heads of the Grandsire Brahma, to thee that hast slain the Asura named Mahisha, to thee that assumest three forms, to thee that bearest every form. Salutations to thee that art the destroyer of the triple city of the Asuras, to thee that art the destroyer of (Daksha's) sacrifice, to thee that art the destroyer of the body of Kama (the deity of Desire), to thee that wieldest the rod of destruction. Salutations to thee that art Skanda, to thee that art Visakha, to thee that art the rod of the Brahmana, to thee that art Bhava, to thee that art Sarva, to thee that art of universal form. Salutations to thee that art Isana, to thee that art the destroyer of Bhaga, to thee that art the slayer of Andhaka, to thee that art the universe, to thee that art possessed of illusion, to thee that art both conceivable and inconceivable.[64] Thou art the one end of all creatures, thou art the foremost, thou art the heart of everything. Thou art the Brahma of all the deities, thou art the Nilardhita Red and Blue of the Rudras. Thou art the Soul of the creatures, thou art He who is called Purusha in the Sankhya philosophy, thou art the Rishabha among all things sacred, thou art that which is called auspicious by Yogins and which, according to them, is without parts (being indivisible). Amongst those that are observant of the different modes of life, thou art the House-holder, thou art the great Lord amongst the lords of the universe. Thou art Kuvera among all the Yakshas, and thou art Vishnu amongst all the sacrifices.[65] Thou art Meru amongst mountains, thou art the Moon among all luminaries of the firmament, thou art Vasishtha amongst Rishis, thou art Surya among the planets. Thou art the lion among all wild animals, and among all domestic animals, thou art the bull that is worshipped by all people. Among the Adityas thou art Vishnu (Upendra), among the Vasu thou art Pavaka, among birds thou art the son of Vinata (Garuda), and among snakes thou art Ananta (Sesha). Among the Vedas thou art the Samans, among the Yajushes thou art the Sata-Rudriyam, among Yogins thou art Sanatkumara, and among Sankhyas thou art Kapila. Among the Maruts thou art Sakra, among the Pitris thou art Devarat, among all the regions (for the residence of created beings) thou art the region of Brahman, and amongst all the ends that creatures attain to, thou art Moksha or Emancipation. Thou art the Ocean of milk among all oceans, among all rocky eminences thou art Himavat, among all the orders thou art the Brahmana, and among all learned Brahmanas thou art he that has undergone and is observant of the Diksha. Thou art the Sun among all things in the world, thou art the destroyer called Kala. Thou art whatever else possessed of superior energy of eminence that exists in the universe. Thou art possessed of supreme puissance. Even this is what represents my certain conclusion. Salutations to thee, O puissant and illustrious one, O thou that art kind to all thy worshippers. Salutations to thee, O lord of Yogins. I bow to thee, O original cause of the universe. Be thou gratified with me that am thy worshipper, that am very miserable and helpless. O Eternal Lord, do thou become the refuge of this adorer of thine that is very weak and miserable. O Supreme Lord, it behoveth thee to pardon all those transgressions of which I have been guilty, taking compassion upon me on the ground of my being thy devoted worshipper. I was stupefied by thee, O Lord of all the deities, in consequence of the disguise in which thou showest thyself to me. O Maheswara, I did not give thee the Arghya or water to wash thy feet."[66] Having hymned the praises of Isana in this way, I offered him, with great devotion, water to wash his feet and the ingredients of the Arghya, and then, with joined hands, I resigned myself to him, being prepared to do whatever he would bid. Then, O sire, an auspicious shower of flowers fell upon my head, possessed of celestial fragrance and bedewed with cold water. The celestial musicians began to play on their kettle-drums. A delicious breeze, fragrant and agreeable, began to blow and fill me with pleasure. Then Mahadeva accompanied by his spouse, and having the bull for his sign, having been gratified with me, addressed the celestials assembled there in these words, filling me with great joy,--"Behold, ye deities, the devotion of the high-souled Upamanyu. Verily, steady and great is that devotion, and entirely immutable, for it exists unalterably."--Thus addressed by the great God armed with the Sula, the deities, O Krishna, having bowed down unto him and joined their hands in reverence, said these words,--"O illustrious one, O God of the gods, O master of the universe, O Lord of all, let this best of regenerate persons obtain from thee the fruition of all his desires."--Thus addressed by all the deities, with the Grandsire Brahma among them. Sarva, otherwise called Isa and Sankara, said these words as if smiling unto me.' "'"'The illustrious Sankara said, "O dear Upamanyu, I am gratified with thee. Behold me, O foremost of Munis, O learned Rishi, thou art firmly devoted to me and well hast thou been tested by me. I have been very highly pleased with thee in consequence of this thy devotion to Siva. I shall, therefore, give thee today the fruition of whatever desires thou mayst have in thy heart." Thus addressed by Mahadeva of great wisdom, tears of joy came into my eyes and my hair stood on its end (through emotion). Kneeling down unto him and bowing unto him repeatedly, I then, with a voice that was choked with delight, said unto him,--"O illustrious god, it seems to me that I was hitherto dead and that it is only today that I have taken my birth, and that my birth hath today borne fruit, since I am staying now in the presence of Him who is the Master of both the deities and the Asuras! Who else is more praiseworthy than I, since I am beholding with these eyes of mine, Him of immeasurable prowess whom the very deities are unable to behold without first paying hearty worship? That which they that are possessed of learning and wisdom say is the highest of all topics, which is Eternal, which is distinguished from all else, which is unborn, which is Knowledge, which is indestructible, is identical with thee, O puissant and illustrious one, thee that art the beginning of all the topics, thee that art indestructible and changeless, thee that art conversant with the ordinances which govern all the topics, thee that art the foremost of Purushas, thee that art the highest of the high. Thou art he that hadst created from thy right side the Grandsire Brahma, the Creator of all things. Thou art he that hadst created from thy left side Vishnu for protecting the Creation. Thou art that puissant Lord who didst create Rudra when the end of the Yuga came and when the Creation was once more to be dissolved. That Rudra, who sprang from thee destroyed the Creation with all its mobile and immobile beings, assuming the form of Kala of great energy, of the cloud Samvartaka (charged with water which myriads of oceans are not capacious enough to bear), and of the all consuming fire. Verily, when the period comes for the dissolution of the universe, that Rudra stands, ready to swallow up the universe. Thou art that Mahadeva, who is the original Creator of the universe with all its mobile and immobile entities. Thou art he, who, at the end of the Kalpa, stands, withdrawing all things into thyself. Thou art he that pervadest all things, that art the Soul of all things, thou art the Creator of the Creator of all entities. Incapable of being seen by even any of the deities, thou art he that exists, pervading all entities. If, O lord, thou hast been gratified with me and if thou wouldst grant me boons, let this be the boon, O Lord of all the deities, that my devotion to thee may remain unchanged. O best of the deities, let me, through thy grace, have knowledge of the Present, the Past, and the Future. I shall also, with all my kinsmen and friends, always eat food mixed with milk. And let thy illustrious self be for ever present at our retreat."--Thus addressed by me, the illustrious Maheswara endued with supreme energy, that Master of all mobile and immobile, viz., Siva, worshipped of all the universe, then said unto me these words.' "'"'The illustrious Deity said, "Be thou free from every misery and pain, and be thou above decrepitude and death. Be thou possessed of fame, be thou endued with great energy, and let spiritual knowledge be thine. Thou shalt, through my grace, be always sought for by the Rishis. Be thy behaviour good and righteous, be every desirable attribute thine, be thou possessed of universal knowledge, and be thou of agreeable appearance. Let undecaying youth be thine, and let thy energy be like that of fire. Wherever, again, thou mayst desire the presence of the ocean of milk that is so agreeable to thee, there shall that ocean appear before thee (ready for being utilised by thee and thy friends for purposes of thy food). Do thou, with thy friends, always obtain food prepared with milk, with the celestial nectar besides being mixed with it.[67] After the expiration of a Kalpa thou shalt then obtain my companionship. Thy family and race and kinsmen shall be exhaustless. O foremost of regenerate ones, thy devotion to me shalt be eternal. And, O best of Brahmanas, I shall always accord my presence to thy asylum. Live, O son, whithersoever thou likest, and let no anxiety be thine. Thought of by thee, I shall, O learned Brahmana, grant thee a sight of myself again."--Having said these words, and granted me these boons, the illustrious Isana, endued with the effulgence of millions of Suns, disappeared there and then. It was even thus, O Krishna, that I beheld, with the aid of austere penances, that God of gods. I also obtained all that was said by the great Deity endued with supreme intelligence. Behold, O Krishna, before thy eyes, these Siddhas residing here and these Rishis and Vidyadharas and Yakshas and Gandharvas and Apsaras. Behold these trees and creepers and plants yielding all sorts of flowers and fruits. Behold them bearing the flowers of every season, with beautiful leaves, and shedding a sweet fragrance all around. O thou of mighty arms, all these are endued with a celestial nature through the grace of that god of gods, that Supreme Lord, that high-souled Deity.' "'Vasudeva continued, "Hearing these words of his and beholding, as it were, with my own eyes all that he had related to me, I became filled with wonder. I then addressed the great ascetic Upamanyu and said unto him,--'Deserving of great praise art thou, O foremost of learned Brahmanas, for what righteous man is there other than thou whose retreat enjoys the distinction of being honoured with the presence of that God of gods? Will the puissant Siva, will the great Sankara, O chief of ascetics, grant me also a sight of his person and show me favour.' "'"Upamanyu said, 'Without doubt, O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, thou wilt obtain a sight of Mahadeva very soon, even as, O sinless one, I succeeded in obtaining a sight of him. O thou of immeasurable prowess, I see with my spiritual eyes that thou wilt, in the sixth month from this, succeed in obtaining a sight of Mahadeva, O best of all persons. Thou, O foremost of the Yadus, wilt obtain from Maheswara and his spouse, four and twenty boons. I tell thee what is true. Through the grace of that Deity endued with supreme wisdom, the Past, the Future and the Present are known to me. The great Hara has favoured these Rishis numbering by thousands and others as numerous. Why will not the puissant Deity show favour to thee, O Mahadeva? The meeting of the gods is always commendable with one like thee, with one that is devoted to the Brahmanas, with one that is full of compassion and that is full of faith. I shall give thee certain Mantras. Recite them continuously. By this thou art certain to behold Sankara.'" "'The blessed Vishnu continued, "I then said unto him, 'O regenerate one, through thy grace, O great ascetic, I shall behold the lord of the deities, that grinder of multitudes of Diti's sons.' Eight days, O Bharata, passed there like an hour, all of us being thus occupied with talk on Mahadeva. On the eighth day, I underwent the Diksha (initiation) according to due rites, at the hands of that Brahmana and received the staff from his hands. I underwent the prescribed shave. I took up a quantity of Kusa blades in my hand. I wore rags for my vestments. I rubbed my person with ghee. I encircled a cord of Munja grass round my loins. For one month I lived on fruits. The second month I subsisted upon water. The third, the fourth and the fifth months I passed, living upon air alone. I stood all the while, supporting myself upon one foot and with my arms also raised upwards, and foregoing sleep all the while. I then beheld, O Bharata, in the firmament an effulgence that seemed to be as dazzling as that of a thousand Suns combined together. Towards the centre of that effulgence, O son of Pandu, I saw a cloud looking like a mass of blue hills, adorned with rows of cranes, embellished with many a grand rainbow, with flashes of lightning and the thunder-fire looking like eyes set on it.[68] Within that cloud was the puissant Mahadeva. himself of dazzling splendour, accompanied by his spouse Uma. Verily, the great Deity seemed to shine with his penances, energy, beauty, effulgence, and his dear spouse by his side. The puissant Maheswara, with his spouse by his side, shone in the midst of that cloud. The appearance seemed to be like that of the Sun in the midst of racking clouds with the Moon by his side. The hair on my body, O son of Kunti, stood on its end, and my eyes expanded with wonder upon beholding Hara, the refuge of all the deities and the dispeller of all their griefs. Mahadeva was adorned with a diadem on his head. He was armed with his Sula. He was clad in a tiger-skin, had matted locks on his head, and bore the staff (of the Sanyasin) in one of his hands. He was armed, besides with his Pinaka and the thunderbolt. His teeth was sharp-pointed. He was decked with an excellent bracelet for the upper arm. His sacred thread was constituted by a snake. He wore an excellent garland of diversified colours on his bosom, that hung down to his toes. Verily, I beheld him like the exceedingly bright moon of an autumnal evening. Surrounded by diverse clans of spirits and ghosts, he looked like the autumnal Sun difficult of being gazed at for its dazzling brightness. Eleven hundred Rudras stood around that Deity of restrained soul and white deeds, then seated upon his bull. All of them were employed in hymning his praises. The Adityas, the Vasus, the Sadhyas, the Viswedevas, and the twin Aswins praised that Lord of the universe by uttering the hymns occurring in the scriptures. The puissant Indra and his brother Upendra, the two sons of Aditi, and the Grandsire Brahma, all uttered, in the presence of Bhava, the Rathantara Saman. Innumerable masters of Yoga, all the regenerate Rishis with their children, all the celestial Rishis, the goddess Earth, the Sky (between Earth and Heaven), the Constellations, the Planets, the Months, the Fortnights, the Seasons, Night, the Years, the Kshanas, the Muhurtas, the Nimeshas, the Yugas one after another, all the celestial Sciences and branches of knowledge, and all beings conversant with Truth, were seen bowing down unto that Supreme Preceptor, that great Father, that giver (or origin) of Yoga. Sanatkumara, the Vedas, the Histories, Marichi, Angiras, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, the seven Manus, Soma, the Atharvans, and Vrihaspati, Bhrigu, Daksha, Kasyapa, Vasishtha, Kasya, the Schandas, Diksha, the Sacrifices, Dakshina, the Sacrificial Fires, the Havis (clarified butter) poured in sacrifices, and all the requisites of the sacrifices, were beheld by me, O Yudhishthira, standing there in their embodied forms. All the guardians of the worlds, all the Rivers, all the snakes, the mountains, the celestial Mothers, all the spouses and daughters of the celestials, thousands upon thousands and millions of ascetics, were seen to bow down to that puissant Lord who is the soul of tranquillity. The Mountains, the Oceans, and the Points of the compass also did the same, the Gandharvas and the Apsaras highly skilled in music, in celestial strains, sang and hymned the praises of Bhava who is full of wonder. The Vidyadharas, the Danavas, the Guhyakas, the Rakshasas, and all created beings, mobile and immobile, adorned, in thought, word and deed, that puissant Lord. Before me, that Lord of all the gods viz., Sarva, appeared seated in all his glory. Seeing that Isana had showed himself to me by being seated in glory before my eyes, the whole universe, with the Grandsire and Sakra, looked at me. I, however, had not the power to look at Mahadeva. The great Deity then addressed me saying, 'Behold, O Krishna, and speak to me. Thou hast adorned me hundreds and thousands of times. There is no one in the three worlds that is dearer to me than thou.' After I had bowed unto him, his spouse, viz., the goddess Uma, became gratified with me. I then addressed in these words the great God whose praises are hymned by all the deities with the Grandsire Brahma at their head.'" "'The blessed Vishnu said, "I saluted Mahadeva, saying,--'Salutations to thee, O thou that art the eternal origin of all things. The Rishis say that thou art the Lord of the Vedas. The righteous say that thou art Penance, thou art Sattwa, thou art Rajas, thou art Tamas, and thou art Truth. Thou art Brahman, thou art Rudra, thou art Varuna, thou art Agni, thou art Manu, thou art Bhava, thou art Dhatri, thou art Tashtri, thou art Vidhatri, thou art the puissant Master of all things, and thou art everywhere. All beings, mobile and immobile, have sprung from thee. This triple world with all its mobile and immobile entities, has been created by thee. The Rishis say that thou art superior to the senses, the mind, the vital breaths, the seven sacrificial fires, all others that have their refuge in the all-pervading Soul, and all the deities that are adored and worthy of adoration. Thou, O illustrious one, art the Vedas, the Sacrifices, Soma, Dakshina, Pavaka, Havi, and all other requisites of sacrifice. The merit obtained by sacrifices, gifts made to others, the study of the Vedas, vows, regulations in respect of restraint, Modesty, Fame, Prosperity, Splendour, Contentment, and Success, all exist for leading to thee.[69] Desire, Wrath, Fear, Cupidity, Pride, Stupefaction, and Malice, Pains and Diseases, are, O illustrious one, thy children. Thou art all acts that creatures do, thou art the joy and sorrow that flow from those acts, thou art the absence of joy and sorrow, thou art that Ignorance which is the indestructible seed of Desire, thou art the high origin of Mind, thou art Puissance, and thou art Eternity.[70] Thou art the Unmanifest, thou art Pavana, thou art inconceivable, thou art the thousand-rayed Sun, thou art the effulgent Chit, thou art the first of all the topics, and thou art the refuge of life.[71] The use of words like Mahat, Soul, Understanding, Brahman, Universe, Sambhu, and Self-born and other words occurring in succession (in the Vedas), show that thy nature has been judged (by persons conversant with the Vedas) as identical with Mahat and Soul. Verily, regarding thee as all this, the learned Brahmanas win over that ignorance which lies at the root of the world. Thou residest in the heart of all creatures, and thou art adored by the Rishis as Kshetrajna. Thy arms and feet extend to every place, and thy eyes, head, and face are everywhere. Thou hearest everywhere in the universe, and thou stayest, pervading all things. Of all acts that are performed in the Nimeshas and other divisions of time that spring in consequence of the puissance of the Sun, thou art the fruit.[72] Thou art the original effulgence (of the supreme Chit). Thou art Purusha, and thou residest in the hearts of all things. Thou art the various Yogic attributes of success, viz., Subtility and Grossness and Fruition and Supremacy and Effulgence and Immutability.[73] Understanding and intelligence and all the worlds rest upon thee. They that are devoted to meditation, that are always engaged in Yoga, that are devoted to or firm in Truth and that have subjugated their passions, seek thee and rest on thee.[74] They that know thee for one that is Immutable, or one that resides in all hearts, or one that is endued with supreme puissance, or one that is the ancient Purusha, or one that is pure Knowledge, or one that is the effulgent Chit, or one that is the highest refuge of all persons endued with intelligence, are certainly persons of great intelligence. Verily, such persons stay, transcending intelligence.[75] By understanding the seven subtile entities (viz., Mahat, Ego, and five subtile primal elements called Tanmatras), by comprehending thy six attributes (of Omniscience, Contentment of Fullness, Knowledge without beginning, Independence, Puissance that is not at fault at any time and that is infinite), and being conversant with Yoga that is freed from every false notion, the man of knowledge succeeds in entering into thy great self.'--After I had said these words, O Partha, unto Bhava, that dispeller of grief and pain, the universe, both mobile and immobile, sent up a leonine shout (expressive of their approval of the correctness of my words). The innumerable Brahmanas there present, the deities and the Asuras, the Nagas, the Pisachas, the Pitris, the birds, diverse Rakshasas, diverse classes of ghosts and spirits, and all the great Rishis, then bowed down unto that great Deity. There then fell upon my head showers of celestial flowers possessed of great fragrance, and delicious winds blew on the spot. The puissant Sankara then, devoted to the good of the universe, looked at the goddess Uma and the lord of the celestials and myself also, and thus spoke unto me,--'We know, O Krishna, that thou, O slayer of foes, art filled with the greatest devotion towards us. Do what is for thy good. My love and affection for thee is very great. Do thou ask for eight boons. I shall verily give them unto thee, O Krishna. O best of all persons, tell me what they are, O chief of the Yadavas. Name what thou wishest. However difficult of attainment they be, thou shalt have them still.'"'"[76] SECTION XV "'The blessed Krishna said, "Bowing my head with great joy unto that mass of energy and effulgence, I said these words unto the great Deity, with a heart filled with gladness,--'Firmness in virtue, the slaughter of foes in battle, the highest fame, the greatest might, devotion to Yoga, thy adjacence, and hundreds upon hundreds of children, these are the boons I solicit of thee,'--'So be it,'--said Sankara repeating the words I had uttered. After this, the mother of the universe, the upholders of all things, who cleanses all things, viz., the spouse of Sarva, that vast receptacle of penances said with a restrained soul these words unto me,--'The puissant Mahadeva has granted thee, O sinless one, a son who shall be named Samva. Do thou take from me also eight boons which thou choosest. I shall certainly grant them to thee.'--Bowing unto her with a bend of my head, I said unto her, O son of Pandu,--'I solicit from thee non-anger against the Brahmanas, grace of my father, a hundred sons, the highest enjoyments, love for my family, the grace of my mother, the attainment of tranquillity and peace, and cleverness in every act!' "'"Uma said, 'It shall be even so, O thou that art possessed of prowess and puissance equal to that of a celestial. I never say what is untrue. Thou shalt have sixteen thousand wives. Thy love for them and theirs also for thee shall be unlimited. From all thy kinsmen also, thou shalt receive the highest affection. Thy body too shall be most beautiful. Seven thousand guests will daily feed at thy palace.'" "'Vasudeva continued, "Having thus granted me boons both the god and the goddess, O Bharata, disappeared there and then with their Ganas, O elder brother of Bhima. All those wonderful facts I related fully, O best of kings, to that Brahmana of great energy, viz., Upamanyu (from whom I had obtained the Diksha before adoring Mahadeva). Bowing down unto the great God, Upamanyu said these words to me.' "'"Upamanyu said, 'There is no deity like Sarva. There is no end or refuge like Sarva. There is none that can give so many or such high boons. There is none that equal him in battle.'"'" SECTION XVI "'"Upamanyu said, 'There was in the Krita age, O sire, a Rishi celebrated under the name of Tandi. With great devotion of heart he adored, with the aid of Yoga-meditation, the great God for ten thousand years. Listen to me as I tell the fruit or reward he reaped of such extraordinary devotion. He succeeded in beholding Mahadeva and praised him by uttering some hymns. Thinking, with the aid of his penances, of Him who is the supreme Soul and who is immutable and undeteriorating, Tandi became filled with wonder, and said these words,--"I seek the protection of Him whom the Sankhyas describe and the Yogins think of as the Supreme, the Foremost, the Purusha, the pervader of all things, and the Master of all existent objects, of him who, the learned say, is the cause of both the creation and the destruction of the universe; of him who is superior to all the celestials, the Asuras, and the Munis, of him who has nothing higher, who is unborn, who is the Lord of all things, who has neither beginning nor end, and who is endued with supreme puissance, who is possessed of the highest felicity, and who is effulgent and sinless."--After he had said these words, Tandi beheld before him that ocean of penances, that great Deity who is immutable and undeteriorating, who is without compare, who is inconceivable, who is eternal, and who is without any change, who is indivisible, who is whole, who is Brahma, who transcends all attributes, and who is endued with attributes, who is the highest delight of Yogins, who is without deterioration, who is called Emancipation, who is the refuge of the Mind, of Indra, of Agni, of the god of wind, of the entire universe, and of the Grandsire Brahma; who is incapable of being conceived by the Mind, who is without mutation of any kind, who is pure, who is capable of being apprehended by understanding only and who is immaterial as the Mind; who is difficult of comprehension, who is incapable of being measured, who is difficult of being attained by persons of uncleansed souls, who is the origin of the universe, and who transcends both the universe and the attribute of darkness; who is ancient, who is Purusha, who is possessed of effulgence, and who is higher than the highest. The Rishi Tandi, desirous of beholding Him who making himself endued with life-breaths, resides in what results from it viz., Jiva, in the form of that effulgence which is called the Mind, passed many years in the practice of the severest austerities, and having succeeded in beholding Him as the reward of those penances, he praised the great God in the following terms. "'"'Tandi said, "Thou art the holiest of holies[77] and the refuge of all, O foremost of all beings endued with intelligence. Thou art the fiercest energy of all kinds of energy. Thou art the austerest penance of all penances. Thou, O puissant one, art the liberal giver of blessings. Thou art the supreme Truth. Salutations to thee, O thou of a thousand rays, and, O refuge of all felicity. Thou art the giver of that Nirvana which, O puissant one, Yatis, standing in fear of birth and death, strive for so hard. The Grandsire Brahma, he of a hundred sacrifices, (viz., Indra) Vishnu, the Viswadevas, the great Rishis, are incapable of comprehending thee and thy real nature. How then can persons like ourselves hope to comprehend thee? From thee flows everything. Upon thee rests everything. Thou art called Kala, thou art called Purusha, thou art called Brahma. Celestial Rishis conversant with the Puranas, say that thou hast three bodies viz., those pertaining to Kalas, those pertaining to Purusha and those pertaining to Brahma or the three forms namely Brahma, Vishnu and Rudra. Thou art Adhi-Purusha, (occupying the physical frame from head to foot) thou art Adhyatma, thou art Adhibhuta, and Adhi-Daivata, thou art Adhi-loka, Adhi-Vijnanam and Adhi-Yajna.[78] Men of wisdom, when they succeed in knowing thee that residest in themselves and that art incapable of being known by the very gods, become freed from all bonds and pass into a state of existence that transcends all sorrow.[79] They that do not wish to know thee, O thou of great puissance, have to undergo innumerable births and deaths. Thou art the door of heaven and of Emancipation. Thou art he that projectest all beings into existence and withdrawest them again into thyself. Thou art the great giver. Thou art heaven, thou art Emancipation, thou art desire (the seed of action). Thou art wrath that inspires creatures. Thou art Sattwa, thou art Rajas, thou art Tamas, thou art the nether regions, and thou art the upper regions. Thou art the Grandsire Brahma, thou art Bhava, thou art Vishnu, thou art Skanda, thou art Indra, thou art Savitri, thou art Yama, thou art Varuna, Soma, thou art Dhatri, thou art Manu, thou art Vidhatri and thou art Kuvera, the Lord of treasures. Thou art Earth, thou art Wind, thou art Water, thou art Agni, thou art Space, thou art Speech, thou art the Understanding, thou art Steadiness, thou art Intelligence, thou art the acts that creatures do, thou art Truth, thou art Falsehood, thou art existent and thou art non-existent. Thou art the senses, thou art that which transcends Prakriti, thou art immutable. Thou art superior to the universe of existent objects, thou art superior to the universe of non-existent objects, thou art capable of being conceived, thou art incapable of being conceived. That which is supreme Brahman, that which is the highest entity, that which is the end of both the Sankhyas and the Yogins, is, without doubt, identical with thee. Verily, rewarded have I been today by thee in consequence of thy granting me a sight of thy form. I have attained the end which the righteous alone attain to. I have been rewarded with that end which is solicited by persons whose understandings have been cleansed by Knowledge. Alas, so long I was steeped in Ignorance; for this long period I was a senseless fool, since I had no knowledge of thee that art the Supreme Deity, thee that art the only eternal Entity as can be only known by all persons endued with wisdom. In course of innumerable lives have I at last succeeded in acquiring that Devotion towards thee in consequence of which thou hast shown thyself to me. O thou that art ever inclined to extend thy grace to those that are devoted to thee, he that succeeds in knowing thee is enable to enjoy immortality. Thou art that which is ever a mystery with the gods, the Asuras, and the ascetics. Brahman is concealed in the cave of the heart. The very ascetics are unable to behold or know Him.[80] Thou art that puissant deity who is the doer of everything and whose face is turned towards every direction. Thou art the Soul of all things, thou seest all things, thou pervadest all things, and thou knowest all things. Thou makest a body for thyself, and bearest that body. Thou art an embodied Being. Thou enjoyest a body, and thou art the refuge of all embodied creatures. Thou art the creator of the life-breaths, thou possessest the life-breaths, thou art one that is endued with life-breaths, thou art the giver of the life-breaths, and thou art the refuge of all beings endued with life-breaths. Thou art that Adhyatma which is the refuge of all righteous persons that are devoted to Yoga-meditation and conversant with the Soul and that are solicitous of avoiding rebirth. Verily, thou art that Supreme Lord who is identical with that refuge. Thou art the giver unto all creatures of whatever ends become theirs, fraught with happiness or misery. Thou art he that ordains all created beings to birth and death. Thou art the puissant Lord who grants success to Rishis crowned with success in respect of the fruition of their wishes. Having created all the worlds beginning with Bhu, together with all the denizens of heaven, that upholdest and cherishest them all, distributing thyself into thy well-known forms numbering Eight.[81] From thee flows everything. Upon thee rests all things. All things, again, disappear in thee. Thou art the sole object that is Eternal. Thou art that region of Truth which is sought by the righteous and regarded by them as the highest. Thou art that cessation of individual existence which Yogins seek. Thou art that Oneness which is sought by persons conversant with the soul. Brahma and the Siddhas expounding the mantras have concealed thee in a cave for preventing the deities and Asuras and human beings from beholding thee.[82] Although thou residest in the heart, yet thou are concealed. Hence, stupefied by thee, deities and Asuras and human beings are all unable to understand thee, O Bhava, truly and in all thy details. Unto those persons that succeed in attaining to thee after having cleansed themselves by devotion, thou showest thyself of thy own accord, O thou that residest in all hearts.[83] By knowing thee one can avoid both death and rebirth. Thou art the highest object of knowledge. By knowing thee no higher object remains for one to know. Thou art the greatest object of acquisition. The person that is truly wise, by acquiring thee, thinks that there is no higher object to acquire. By attaining to thee that art exceedingly subtile and that art the highest object of acquisition, the man of wisdom becomes immortal and immutable. The followers of the Sankhya system, well conversant with their own philosophy and possessing a knowledge of the attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas and Tamas) and of those called the topics of enquiry,--those learned men who transcend the destructible by attaining to a knowledge of the subtile or indestructible--succeed, by knowing thee, in freeing themselves from all bonds. Persons conversant with the Vedas regard thee as the one object of knowledge, which has been expounded in the Vedantas. These men, devoted to the regulation of the breaths, always meditate on thee and at last enter into thee as their highest end. Riding on the car made of Om, those men enter into Maheswara. Of that which is called the Devayana (the path of the deities) thou art the door called Aditya. Thou art again, the door, called Chandramas, of that which is called the Pitriyana (the path of the Pitris).[84] Thou art Kashtha, thou art the points of the horizon, thou art the year, and thou art the Yugas. Thine is the sovereignty of the heavens, thine is the sovereignty of the Earth, thou art the Northern and the Southern declensions. The Grandsire Brahma in days of yore uttered thy praises, O thou that art called Nilarohita (blue and red), by reciting diverse hymns and urged thee to create living creatures. Brahmanas conversant with Richs praise thee by uttering Richs, regarding thee as unattached to all things and as divested of all forms. Adhyaryus, in sacrifices, pour libations, uttering Yajushes the while, in honour of thee that art the sole object of knowledge, according to the three well-known ways.[85] Persons of cleansed understandings, that are conversant with Samans, sing thee with the aid of Samans. Those regenerate persons, again, that are conversant with the Atharvans, hymn thee as Rita, as Truth, as the Highest, and as Brahma. Thou art the highest cause, whence Sacrifice has flowed. Thou art the Lord, and thou art Supreme. The night and day are thy sense of hearing and sense of sight. The fortnights and months are thy head and arms. The seasons are thy energy, penances are thy patience, and the year is thy anus, thighs and feet. Thou art Mrityu, thou art Yama, thou art Hutasana, thou art Kala, thou art endued with speed in respect of destruction, thou art the original cause of Time, and thou art eternal Time. Thou art Chandramas and Aditya, with all the stars and planets and the atmosphere that fills space. Thou art the pole-star, thou art constellation called the seven Rishis, thou art the seven regions beginning with Bhu. Thou art Pradhana and Mahat, thou art Unmanifest, and thou art this world. Thou art the universe beginning with Brahman and ending with the lowest forms of vegetation. Thou art the beginning or original cause of all creatures. Thou art the eight Prakritis.[86] Thou art, again, above the eight Prakritis. Everything that exists, represents a portion of thy divine Self. Thou art that supreme Felicity which is also Eternal. Thou art the end which is attained to by all things. Thou art that highest existence which is sought for by the Righteous. Thou art that state which is freed from every anxiety. Thou art eternal Brahman! Thou art that highest state which constitutes the meditation of persons learned in the scriptures and the Vedantas. Thou art the highest Kashtha, thou art the highest Kala. Thou art the highest Success, and thou art the highest Refuge. Thou art the highest Tranquillity. Thou art the highest cessation of Existence. By attaining to thee, Yogins think that they attain to the highest success that is open to them. Thou art Contentment, thou art Success, thou art the Sruti, and thou art the Smriti. Thou art that Refuge of the Soul after which Yogins strive, and thou art that indestructible Prapti which men of Knowledge pursue. Thou art, without doubt, that End which those persons have in view that are habituated to sacrifices and that pour sacrificial libations, impelled by specific desires, and that make large presents on such occasions. Thou art that high End which is sought for by persons that waste and scorch their bodies with severe penances, with ceaseless recitations, with those rigid vows and fasts that appertain to their tranquil lives, and with other means of self-affliction. O Eternal one, thou art that End which is theirs that are unattached to all things and that have relinquished all acts. Thou, O Eternal one, art that End which is theirs that are desirous of achieving Emancipation from rebirth, that live in dissociation from all enjoyments, and that desire the annihilation of the Prakriti elements. Thou art that high End, O illustrious one, which is indescribable, which is stainless, which is the immutable one, and which is theirs that are devoted to knowledge and science. These are the five Ends that have been declared in the Vedas and the Scriptures and the Puranas. It is through thy grace that persons attain to those Ends, or, if they fail to attain to them, it is through thy grace being denied to them."--It was thus Tandi, who was a vast heap of penances, praised Isana. And he sang also that high Brahman which in ancient days was sung by the Creator himself (in honour of Mahadeva).' "'"Upamanyu continued, 'Thus praised by that utterer of Brahma, viz., Tandi, Mahadeva that illustrious and puissant Deity, who was accompanied by his spouse Uma, said these words. Tandi had further said,--"Neither Brahma, nor Indra, nor Vishnu, nor the Viswedevas, nor the great Rishis, know thee." Gratified at this, Siva said the following words.' "'"'The holy one said, "Thou shalt be indestructible and eternal. Thou shalt be freed from all sorrow. Great fame shall be thine. Thou shalt be endued with energy. Spiritual knowledge shall be thine. All the Rishis shall seek thee, and thy son, through my grace, shall become the author of Sutras, O foremost of regenerate persons. What wishes of thine shall I grant today? Tell me, O son, what those objects are which thou desirest."--At this, Tandi joined his hands and said--"O Lord, let my devotion to thee be steady."' "'"Upamanyu continued, 'Having given unto Tandi these boons and having received the adorations of both the deities and the Rishis, the great Deity disappeared there and then. When the illustrious deity, O lord of the Yadavas, thus disappeared with all his followers, the Rishi came to my asylum and said unto me all that had happened to him. Do thou hear, O foremost of men, all those celebrated names (of Mahadeva) that Tandi said unto me for thy spiritual success. The Grandsire had at one time recited ten thousand names that apply to Mahadeva. In the scriptures, a thousand names occur of that illustrious deity. These names are not known to all. O thou that transcendest destruction, in days of yore, the Grandsire Brahma uttered these names for adoring the high-souled Deity. Having acquired them through the grace of the Grandsire, Tandi communicated them to me!'"'"[87] SECTION XVII "'Vasudeva said, "Concentrating his mind, O Yudhishthira, the regenerate Rishi Upamanyu, with hands joined together in reverence uttered this abstract of names (applying to Mahadeva), commencing from the beginning. "'"Upamanyu said, 'I shall adore that great Deity who deserves the adorations of all creatures, by uttering those names that are celebrated over all the worlds,--names some of which were uttered by the Grandsire Brahma, some by the Rishis, and some of which occur in the Vedas and the Vedantas. Those names have been applied (unto the great Deity) by persons that are eminent. Those names of him that are, again, true and fraught with success and are capable of accomplishing all the purposes which the utterer may have in view, have been applied unto Mahadeva by Tandi after calling them from the Vedic lore with the aid of his devotion. Indeed, with those names that have been uttered by many well-known persons of righteousness and by ascetics conversant with all the spiritual principles, I shall adore him who is the foremost, who is the first, who leads to heaven, who is ready to confer benefits upon all creatures, and who is auspicious. Those names have been heard everywhere in the universe, having spread from the region of Brahma (where they were originally invented). All of them are fraught with the element of Truth. With those names I shall adore him who is Supreme Brahman, who has been declared (unto the universe) by the Vedas, and who is Eternal. I shall now tell thee, O chief of Bharata's race those names. Do thou hear them with rapt attention. Thou art a devoted worshipper of the Supreme Deity. Do thou worship the illustrious Bhava, distinguishing him above all the deities. And because thou art devoted to him, I shall therefore, recite those names in thy hearing. Mahadeva is Eternal Brahman. Persons endued with Yoga and Yoga's achievements are unable to know in even a hundred years, the glory and puissance of the great Deity in their entirety. Verily, the beginning, middle or end of Mahadeva cannot be apprehended by the very deities. Indeed, when the case is such, who is there O Madhava, that can recite the attributes of Mahadeva in their entirety? For all that, I shall through the grace of that illustrious and supreme Deity of perfect wisdom, extended to me for my devotion to him, recite his attributes as embodied in an abstract of few words and letters. The Supreme Lord is incapable of being adored by any one if he does not grant his permission to the adorer. As regards myself, it is only when I become fortunate enough to receive his permission that I succeed in adoring him. I shall indicate only a few names of that great Deity who is without birth and without destruction, who is the original cause of the universe, who is endued with the highest Soul, and whose origin is unmanifest. Hear, O Krishna, a few names, that were uttered by Brahma himself, of that giver of boons, that adorable deity, that puissant one who has the universe for his form, and who is possessed of supreme wisdom. These names that I shall recite are extracted from the ten thousand names that the great Grandsire had uttered in days of yore, as ghee is extracted from curds. As gold represents the essence of rocky mountains, as honey represents the essence of flowers, as Manda represents the extract from ghee, even so have these names been extracted from and represent the essence of those ten thousand names that were uttered by Grandsire Brahma. This abstract of names is capable of cleansing every sin, however heinous. It possesses the same merit that is attached to the four Vedas. It should be comprehended with attention by spiritual aspirants and engraved on the memory. These names fraught with auspiciousness, leading to advancement, destructive of Rakshasas,[88] and great cleansers should be imparted to only him that is devoted to the great Lord, to him that has faith, to him that believes. Unto him that has no faith, him that is an unbeliever, him that has not subjugated his soul, it should never be communicated. That creature, O Krishna, who cherishes malice towards the illustrious Mahadeva who is the original cause of everything, who is the Supreme Soul, and who is the great Lord, has certainly to go to hell with all his ancestors before and all his children after him. This abstract of names that I shall recite to thee is looked upon as Yoga.[89] This is looked upon as the highest object of meditation. This is that which one should constantly recite as Japya. This is equivalent to Knowledge. This is the highest Mystery. If one, even during his last moments, recites it or hears it recited unto him, one succeeds in attaining to the highest end. This is holy. This is auspicious, this is fraught with every kind of benefit. This is the best of all things. Brahma, the Grandsire of all the universe, having in days of old composed it, assigned to it the foremost place among all excellent hymns. From that time, this hymn to the greatness and glory of the high-souled Mahadeva, which is held in the highest esteem by all the deities, has come to be regarded as the king of all hymns. This king of all hymns was first conveyed from the region of Brahman to heaven, the region of the celestials. Tandi then obtained it from heaven. Hence is it known as the hymn composed by Tandi. From heaven Tandi brought it down on Earth. It is the most auspicious of all auspicious things, and is capable of cleansing the heart from all sins however heinous. O thou of mighty arms, I shall recite to thee that best of all hymns. "This hymn relates to him who is the Veda of the Vedas, and the most ancient of all ancient objects, to him who is the energy of all energies, and the penance of all penances; to him who is the most tranquil of all creatures endued with tranquillity, and who is the splendour of all splendours; to him who is looked upon as the most restrained of all creatures that are restrained, and him who is the intelligence of all creatures endued with intelligence; to him who is looked upon as the deity of all deities, and the Rishi of all Rishis; to him who is regarded as the sacrifice of all sacrifices and the most auspicious of all things fraught with auspiciousness; to him who is the Rudra of all Rudras and the effulgence of all things endued with effulgence; to him who is the Yogin of all Yogins, and the cause of all causes; to him from whom all the worlds start into existence, and unto whom all the worlds return when they cease to exist; to him who is the Soul of all existent creatures, and who is called Hara of immeasurable energy. Hear me recite those thousand and eight names of the great Sarva. Hearing those names, O foremost of all men, thou shalt be crowned with fruition in respect of all thy wishes,--Om! thou art Immobile, thou art Fixed, thou art Puissant, thou art Terrible, thou art Foremost, thou art boon-giving, and thou art Superior.[90] Thou art the Soul of all creatures, thou art celebrated over all creatures, thou art all things, thou art the Creator of all, and thou art Bhava.[91] Thou art the bearer of matted locks on thy head. Thou wearest animal skins for thy vestments. Thou wearest a crest of matted hair on thy head like the peacock. Thou art he who has the whole universe for thy limbs.[92] Thou art the Creator of all things. Thou art Hara in consequence of thy being the destroyer of all things. Thou art he that has eyes resembling those of the gazelle. Thou art the destroyer of all creatures. Thou art the supreme enjoyer of all things. Thou art that Pravritti whence all actions flow. Thou art that Nivritti or abstention from acts. Thou art observant of fasts and vows, thou art Eternal, thou art Unchangeable. Thou art he that residest in crematoria, thou art the possessor of the six well-known attributes of Lordship and the rest, thou residest in the heart of every creature, thou art he that enjoys all things with the senses, thou art the grinder of all sinful creatures.[93] Thou art he that deserves the salutations of all, thou art of great feats, thou art he that has penances for his wealth, thou createst all the elements at thy will, thou concealest thy real nature by putting on the guise of a lunatic. Thou art the Master of all the worlds and of all living creatures. Thou art of immeasurable form, thou art of vast body, thou art of the form of Righteousness, thou art of great fame, thou art of high Soul, thou art the Soul of all creatures, thou hast the universe for thy form.[94] Thou art of vast jaws (for thou swallowest the universe when the time comes for the dissolution of all things). Thou art the protector of all the lokas (the worlds). Thou art the soul residing in the inner heart and as such devoid of ahamkara originating from ignorance[95] and is one and undivided; Thou art anandam (gladness). Thou art he whose car is borne by mules. Thou art he that protects Jiva from the thunderbolt of rebirth. Thou art adorable. Thou art obtained by purity and self-restraint and vows. Thou art again the refuge of all kinds of vows and observances including purity and self-restraint.[96] Thou art the celestial artificer that is conversant with every art. Thou art Self-create (for no one has created thee). Thou art the beginning of all creatures and things. Thou art Hiranyagarbha, the Creator of all things. Thou art inexhaustible puissance and felicity.[97] Thou hast a hundred eyes, thou hast eyes of vast power. Thou art Soma.[98] Thou art he that causest all righteous creatures assume shapes of glory for shining in the firmament. Thou art Chandramas, thou art Surya, thou art the planet Saturn, thou art the descending node (of the moon), thou art the ascending node, thou art Mangala (Mars), and thou art Vrihaspati (Jupiter) and Sukra (Venus), thou art Vudha (Mercury) thou art the worshipper of Atri's wife, thou art he who shot his shaft in wrath at Sacrifice when Sacrifice fled away from him in the form of a deer. Thou art sinless.[99] Thou art possessed of penances that have conferred upon thee the power of creating the universe. Thou art possessed of penances that have rendered thee capable of destroying the universe. Thou art high minded (in consequence of thy great liberality towards thy devotees). Thou fulfillest the wishes of all who resign themselves to thee. Thou art the maker of the year (for it is thou who settest the wheel of Time revolving, by assuming the form of the sun and the planets). Thou art Mantra (in the form of Pranava and other sacred words and syllables). Thou art the authority for all acts (in the form of the Vedas and the scriptures). Thou art the highest Penance. Thou art devoted to Yoga. Thou art he who merges himself in Brahman (by Yoga-abstraction). Thou art the great seed (being the cause of causes). Thou art the displayer of what is unmanifest in the manifest form in which the universe exists. Thou art possessed of infinite might. Thou art he whose seed is gold.[100] Thou art omniscient, (being as thou art all things and the great knower). Thou art the cause of all things. Thou art he that has the seed of action (viz., ignorance and desire) for the means of sojourning from this world to the other and the other to this.[101] Thou hast ten arms. Thou hast winkless eyes (for thou seest at all times). Thou hast a blue throat (in consequence of thy bearing in thy throat the poison that arose upon churning the ocean and which, if not so borne, was capable of destroying the universe). Thou art the Lord of Uma. Thou art the origin of all the infinite forms that occur in the universe. Thou art he whose superiority is due to thyself. Thou art a hero in might (in consequence of thy having achieved such grand feats as the quick destruction of the triple city of the Asuras). Thou art inert matter (which cannot move unless co-existing with the Soul). Thou art all the tattwas (subjects of enquiry as counted by the Sankhyas). Thou art the ordainer and ruler of the tattwas. Thou art the chief of those beings that wait upon thee and are called Ganas.[102] Thou coverest infinite space.[103] Thou art Kama, the God of Desire. Thou art conversant with Mantras (in the sense of knowledge being thy penance).[104] Thou art the highest Mantra for thou art that philosophy which consists in the ascertainment of the nature and attributes of the soul (and its differences from the Non-soul). Thou art the cause of the universe (since all that exists has sprung from thy Soul). Thou art universal destroyer (for all that ceases to exist becomes merged unto thee who art as the unmanifest Brahman). Thou bearest in one of thy hands the calabash, and in another thou holdest the bow; in another hand thou bearest shafts and in another thou bearest a skull. Thou bearest the thunder-bolt. Thou art armed with the hundred-killer.[105] Thou art armed with the sword. Thou wieldest the battle-axe. Thou art armed with the Sula (trident). Thou art adorable. Thou host the sacrificial ladle in one of thy hands. Thou art of beautiful form. Thou art endued with abundant energy. Thou givest in the most liberal measure all that tends to adorn those that are devoted to thee. Thou wearest a turban on thy head. Thou art of beautiful face. Thou art he who swells with splendour and puissance. Thou art he that is humble and modest. Thou art exceedingly tall. Thou art he who has the senses for thy rays.[106] Thou art the greatest of preceptors. Thou art Supreme Brahman (being a state of pure felicitous existence).[107] Thou art he that took the shape of a jackal (for consoling the Brahmana who, when insulted by a wealthy Vaisya, had resolved to commit suicide). Thou art he whose objects are all crowned with fruition, of themselves and without waiting for the puissance (derivable from penances). Thou art one who bears a bald head (as the sign of the mendicant order). Thou art one who does good to all creatures. Thou art unborn. Thou hast innumerable forms. Thou bearest all kinds of fragrance on thy person. The matted locks on thy head had sucked up the river Ganga when it first fell from heaven (although they again gave out the waters at the earnest solicitations of king Bhagiratha). Thou art the giver of sovereignty and lordship.[108] Thou art a Brahmacharin without having ever fallen away from the rigid vow of continence. Thou art distinguished for thy sexual continence. Thou always liest on thy back. Thou hast thy abode in Puissance.[109] Thou hast three matted locks on thy head. Thou art he that is clad in rags. Thou art Rudra (in consequence of thy fierceness). Thou art the celestial generalissimo, and thou art all pervading. Thou art he that moves about during the day. Thou art he that moves about in the night.[110] Thou art of fierce wrath. Thou art possessed of dazzling effulgence (born of Vedic study and penances). Thou art the slayer of the mighty Asura who had come in the form of an infuriate elephant for destroying thy sacred city of Varanasi. Thou art the slayer of such Daityas as become the oppressors of the universe. Thou art Kala or Time which is the universal destroyer. Thou art the supreme ordainer of the universe. Thou art a mine of excellent accomplishments. Thou art of the form of the lion and the tiger. Thou art he that is clad in the skin of an elephant. Thou art the Yogin who deceives Time by transcending its irresistible influence. Thou art the original sound.[111] Thou art the fruition of all desires. Thou art he that is adored in four ways.[112] Thou art a night-wanderer (like Vetala and others). Thou art he that wanders in the company of spirits. Thou art he that wanders in the company of ghostly beings. Thou art the Supreme Lord of even Indra and the other celestials. Thou art he that hast multiplied himself infinitely in the form of all existent and non-existent things. Thou art the upholder of both Mahat and all the innumerable combinations of the five primal elements. Thou art the primeval Ignorance or Tamas that is known by the name of Rahu. Thou art without measure and hence infinite. Thou art the supreme End that is attained by the Emancipate. Thou art fond of dancing. Thou art he that is always engaged in dancing. Thou art he that causes others to dance. Thou art the friend of the universe. Thou art he whose aspect is calm and mild. Thou art endued with penances puissant enough to create and destroy the universe. Thou art he who binds all creatures with the bonds of thy illusion. Thou art he that transcends destruction. Thou art he who dwells on the mount Kailasa. Thou transcendest all bonds and art unattached in respect of all things, like Space. Thou art possessed of a thousand arms. Thou art victory. Thou art that perseverance which is the cause of success or victory. Thou art without idleness or procrastination that interferes with persevering activity. Thou art dauntless. Thou art fear. Thou art he who put a stop to Vali's sacrifice.[113] Thou fulfillest the desires of all thy devotees. Thou art the destroyer of Daksha's sacrifice. Thou art amiable. Thou art slightly amiable. Thou art exceedingly fierce and robbest all creatures of their energy. Thou art the slayer of the Asura Vala. Thou art always cheerful. Thou art of the form of wealth which is coveted by all. Thou hast never been vanquished.[114] There is none more adorable than thou. Thou art he who utters deep roars (in the form of Ocean). Thou art that which is so deep that no one can measure it (because thou art of the form of space). Thou art he whose puissance and the might of whose companions and of the bull have never been measured by anybody. Thou art the tree of the world (whose roots extend upwards and branches hang downwards). Thou art the banian.[115] Thou art he that sleeps on a human leaf when the universe, after dissolution, becomes one infinite expanse of water. Thou art he that shows compassion to all worshippers assuming as thou listest, the form of Hari or Hara or Ganesa or Arka or Agni or Wind, etc. Thou art possessed of teeth that are exceedingly sharp (since thou art competent to chew innumerable worlds even as one munches nuts and swallows them speedily). Thou art of vast dimensions in respect of thy forms. Thou art possessed of a mouth that is vast enough to swallow the universe at once. Thou art he whose troops are adored everywhere.[116] Thou art he who dispelled all the fears of the deities when the prince of elephants had to be captured. Thou art the seed of the universe. Thou art he who has for his vehicle the same bull that forms again the device on his banner in battle. Thou hast Agni for thy soul. Thou art Surya who has green steeds yoked unto his car. Thou art the friend of Jiva. Thou art he that is conversant with the proper time for the accomplishment of all religious acts. Thou art he unto whom Vishnu paid his adorations (for obtaining his celebrated discus). Thou art the sacrifice being in the form of Vishnu. Thou art the ocean. Thou art the Barabanala Mare's head that ranges within the ocean, ceaselessly vomitting fire and drinking the saline waters as if they were sacrificial butter. Thou art Wind, the friend of Agni. Thou art of tranquil soul like the ocean when at rest and unstirred by the mildest breeze. Thou art Agni that drinks the libations of clarified butter poured in sacrifices with the aid of Mantras. Thou art he whom it is difficult to approach. Thou art he whose effulgence spreads over the infinite universe. Thou art ever skilful in battle. Thou art well conversant with the time when one should engage in battle so that victory may be achieved. Thou art that science which treats of the motions of heavenly bodies.[117] Thou art of the form of success or victory. Thou art he whose body is Time (for thy body is never subject to destruction). Thou art a householder for thou wearest a tuft of hair on thy head. Thou art a Sanyasin for thy head is bald. Thou wearest matted locks on thy head (being, as thou art, a Vanaprastha).[118] Thou art distinguished for thy fiery rays (for the effulgent path by which the righteous proceed is identical with thee). Thou art he that appears in the firmament in the heart encased in the body of every creature.[119] Thou art he who enters into the cranium (brain) of every creature. Thou bearest the wrinkles of age. Thou bearest the bamboo flute. Thou hast also the tabour. Thou bearest the musical instrument called Tali. Thou hast the wooden vessel used for husking grain. Thou art he who covers that illusion which covers Yama.[120] Thou art an astrologer inasmuch as thy understanding is always directed towards the motion of the wheel of time which is made up of the luminaries in the firmament. Thou art Jiva whose understanding is directed to things that are the result of the attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. Thou art that in which all things merge when dissolution overtakes them. Thou art stable and fixed, there being nothing in thee that is subject to change or mutation of any kind. Thou art the Lord of all creatures. Thy arms extend all over the vast universe. Thou art displayed in innumerable forms that are but fractions of thyself. Thou pervadest all things.[121] Thou art he that has no mouth (for thou enjoyest not the objects of thy own creation). Thou art he who frees thy creatures from the bonds of the world. Thou art easily attainable.[122] Thou art he that manifested himself with a golden mail.[123] Thou art he that appears in the phallic emblem. Thou art he that wanders in the forests in quest of fowls and animals. Thou art he that wanders over the Earth. Thou art he that is omnipresent. Thou art the blare that is produced by all the trumpets blown in the three worlds. Thou art he that has all creatures for his relatives.[124] Thou art of the form of a snake (for thou art identical with the mighty Naga named Sesha). Thou art he that lives in mountain caves (like Jaigishavya), or any other Yogin. Thou art identical with Guha (the celestial generalissimo). Thou wearest garlands of flowers. Thou art he who enjoys the happiness that springs from the possession of worldly objects.[125] Thou art he from whom all creatures have derived their three states of birth, existence, and destruction. Thou art he that upholds all things that exist or occur in the three stages of time viz., the Past, the Present, and the Future. Thou art he that frees creatures from the effects of all acts belonging to previous lives as well as those accomplished in the present life and from all the bonds due to Ignorance and Desire. Thou art he who is the binder of Asura chiefs. Thou art he who is the slayer of foes in battle.[126] Thou art that which is attainable by knowledge alone. Thou art Durvasas. Thou art he who is waited upon and adored by all the righteous. Thou art he who causes the fall of even Brahma and the others. Thou art he that gives unto all creatures the just share of joy and grief that each deserves according to his own acts. Thou art he that is incomparable. Thou art well conversant with the shares that are given and appropriated in sacrifices.[127] Thou residest in every place. Thou wanderest everywhere. Thou art he that has mean vestments.[128] Thou art Vasava. Thou art immortal. Thou art identical with the Himavat mountains. Thou art the maker of pure gold. Thou art without acts. Thou upholdest in thyself the fruits of all acts. Thou art the foremost of all creatures that are regarded as upholders.[129] Thou art he that has bloody eyes. Thou art he that has eyes whose vision extends over the infinite universe. Thou art he that has a car whose wheels are ever victorious. Thou art he that is possessed of vast learning. Thou art he that accepts thy devotees for thy servants. Thou art he that restrains and subjugates thy senses. Thou art he that acts. Thou wearest clothes whose warp and woof are made of snakes. Thou art Supreme. Thou art he who is the lowest of the celestials.[130] Thou art he that is well-grown. Thou ownest the musical instrument called Kahala. Thou art the giver of every wish. Thou art the embodiment of grace in all the three stages of Time, viz., the Past, the Present, and the Future. Thou art possessed of might that is always well spent. Thou art he who had assumed the form of Valarama (the elder brother of Krishna). Thou art the foremost of all collected things, being Emancipation or the highest of all ends to which creatures attain. Thou art the giver of all things. Thy face is turned towards all directions. Thou art he from whom diverse creatures have sprung even as all forms have sprung from space or are modifications of that primal element. Thou art he who falls into the pit called body.[131] Thou art he that is helpless (for, falling into the pit constituted by the body, thou canst not transcend the sorrow that is thy portion). Thou residest in the firmament of the heart. Thou art exceedingly fierce in form. Thou art the Deity called Ansu. Thou art the companion of Ansu and art called Aditya. Thou art possessed of innumerable rays. Thou art endued with dazzling effulgence. Thou hast the speed of the Wind.[132] Thou art possessed of speed that is greater than that of the Wind. Thou art possessed of the speed of the mind. Thou art Nishachara as thou enjoyest all things, being invested with Ignorance.[133] Thou dwellest in every body. Thou dwellest with Prosperity as thy companion. Thou art he that imparts knowledge and instruction. Thou art he who imparts instruction in utter silence. Thou art he that observes the vow of taciturnity (for thou instructest in silence). Thou art he who passes out of the body, looking at the soul.[134] Thou art he that is well adored. Thou art the giver of thousands (since the lord of all the treasures derived those treasures of his from thee). Thou art the prince of birds, (being Garuda the son of Vinata and Kasyapa). Thou art the friend that renders aid. Thou art possessed of exceeding effulgence (for thy splendour is like that of a million suns risen together). Thou art the Master of all created beings. Thou art he who provokes the appetites. Thou art the deity of Desire. Thou art of the form of lovely women that are coveted by all. Thou art the tree of the world. Thou art the Lord of Treasures. Thou art the giver of fame. Thou art the Deity that distributes unto all creatures the fruits (in the form of joys and griefs) of their acts. Thou art thyself those fruits which thou distributest. Thou art the most ancient (having existed from a time when there was no other existent thing). Thou art competent to cover with a single footstep of thine all the three worlds. Thou art Vamana (the dwarf) who deceived the Asura chief Vali (and depriving him of his sovereignty restored it unto Indra). Thou art the Yogin crowned with success (like Sanatkumara and others). Thou art a great Rishi (like Vasishtha and others). Thou art one whose objects are always crowned with success (like Rishava or Dattatreya). Thou art a Sanyasin (like Yajnavalkya and others). Thou art he that is adorned with the marks of the mendicant order. Thou art he that is without such marks.[135] Thou art he that transcends the usages of the mendicant order. Thou art he that assures all creatures from every sort of fear. Thou art without any passions thyself (so that glory and humiliation are alike to thee). Thou art he that is called the celestial generalissimo. Thou art that Visakha who took his rise from the body of the celestial generalissimo when Indra hurled his thunder-bolt at him. Thou art conversant with the sixty tattwas or heads of enquiry in the universe. Thou art the Lord of the senses (for these achieve their respective functions guided by thee). Thou art he that is armed with the thunder-bolt (and that rives the mountains). Thou art infinite. Thou art the stupefier of Daitya ranks in the field of battle. Thou art he that moves his car in circles among his own ranks and that makes similar circles among the ranks of his foes and who comes back safe and sound after devastating them. Thou art he that is conversant with the lowest depth of the world's ocean (in consequence of thy knowledge of Brahman). Thou art he called Madhu (who has founded the race in which Krishna has taken his birth). Thou hast eyes whose colour resembles that of honey. Thou art he that has taken birth after Vrihaspati.[136] Thou art he that does the acts which Adhyaryus have to do in sacrifices. Thou art he who is always adored by persons whatever their modes of life. Thou art devoted to Brahman. Thou wanderest amongst the habitations of men in the world (in consequence of thy being a mendicant). Thou art he that pervadest all beings. Thou art he that is conversant with truth. Thou knowest and guidest every heart. Thou art he that overspreads the whole universe. Thou art he that collects or stores the good and bad acts of all creatures in order to award them the fruits thereof. Thou art he that lives during even the night that follows the universal dissolution. Thou art the protector wielding the bow called Pinaka. Thou residest in even the Daityas that are the marks at which shootest thy arrows. Thou art the author of prosperity. Thou art the mighty ape Hanuman that aided Vishnu in the incarnation of Rama in his expedition against Ravana. Thou art the lord of those Ganas that are thy associates. Thou art each member of those diverse Ganas. Thou art he that gladdens all creatures. Thou art the enhancer of the joys of all.[137] Thou takest away the sovereignty and prosperity of even such high beings as Indra and others. Thou art the universal slayer in the form of Death. Thou art he that resides in the four and sixty Kalas. Thou art very great. Thou art the Grandsire (being the sire of the great sire of all). Thou art the supreme phallic emblem that is adored by both deities and Asuras. Thou art of agreeable and beautiful features. Thou art he who presides over the variety of evidences and tendencies for action and non-action. Thou art the lord of vision. Thou art the Lord of Yoga (in consequence of thy withdrawing all the senses into the heart and combining them together in that place). Thou art he that upholds the Krita and the other ages (by causing them to run ceaselessly). Thou art the Lord of seeds (in consequence of thy being the giver of the fruits of all acts good and bad). Thou art the original cause of such seeds. Thou actest in the ways that have been pointed out in the scriptures beginning with those that treat of the Soul. Thou art he in whom reside might and the other attributes. Thou art the Mahabharata and other histories of the kind. Thou art the treatises called Mimansa. Thou art Gautama (the founder of the science of dialectics). Thou art the author of the great treatise on Grammar that has been named after the Moon. Thou art he who chastises his foes. Thou art he whom none can chastise. Thou art he who is sincere in respect of all his religious acts and observances. Thou art he that becomes obedient to those that are devoted to thee. Thou art he that is capable of reducing others to subjection. Thou art he who foments quarrels among the deities and the Asuras. Thou art he who has created the four and ten worlds (beginning with Bhu). Thou art the protector and cherisher of all Beings commencing from Brahma and ending with the lowest forms of vegetable life (like grass and straw). Thou art the Creator of even the five original elements. Thou art he that never enjoys anything (for thou art always unattached). Thou art free from deterioration. Thou art the highest form of felicity. Thou art a deity proud of his might. Thou art Sakra. Thou art the chastisement that is spoken of in treatises on morality and is inflicted on offenders. Thou art of the form of that tyranny which prevails over the world. Thou art of pure Soul. Thou art stainless (being above faults of every kind). Thou art worthy of adoration. Thou art the world that appears and disappears ceaselessly. Thou art he whose grace is of the largest measure. Thou art he that has good dreams. Thou art a mirror in which the universe is reflected. Thou art he that has subjugated all internal and external foes. Thou art the maker of the Vedas. Thou art the maker of those declarations that are contained in the Tantras and the Puranas and that are embodied in language that is human.[138] Thou art possessed of great learning. Thou art the grinder of foes in battle. Thou art he that resides in the awful clouds that appear at the time of the universal dissolution. Thou art most terrible (in consequence of the dissolution of the universe that thou bringest about). Thou art he who succeeds in bringing all persons and all things into thy subjection. Thou art the great Destroyer. Thou art he that has fire for his energy. Thou art he whose energy is mightier than fire. Thou art the Yuga-fire that consumes all things. Thou art he that is capable of being gratified by means of sacrificial libations. Thou art water and other liquids that are poured in sacrifices with the aid of Mantras. Thou art in the form of the Deity of Righteousness, the distributor of the fruits that attach to acts good and bad. Thou art the giver of felicity. Thou art always endued with effulgence. Thou art of the form of fire. Thou art of the complexion of the emerald. Thou art always present in the phallic emblem. Thou art the source of blessedness. Thou art incapable of being baffled by anything in the prosecution of your objects. Thou art the giver of blessings. Thou art of the form of blessedness. Thou art he unto whom is given a share of sacrificial offerings. Thou art he who distributes unto each his share of that is offered in sacrifices. Thou art endued with great speed. Thou art he that is dissociated from all things. Thou art he that is possessed of the mightiest limb. Thou art he that is employed in the act of generation. Thou art of a dark complexion, (being of the form of Vishnu). Thou art of a white complexion (being of the form of Samva, the son of Krishna). Thou art the senses of all embodied creatures. Thou art possessed of vast feet. Thou hast vast hands. Thou art of vast body. Thou art endued with wide extending fame. Thou hast a vast head.[139] Thou art of vast measurements. Thou art of vast vision. Thou art the home of the darkness of ignorance. Thou art the Destroyer of the Destroyer. Thou art possessed of vast years. Thou hast vast lips. Thou art he that has vast cheeks. Thou hast a vast nose. Thou art of a vast throat. Thou hast a vast neck. Thou art he that tears the bond of body.[140] Thou hast a vast chest. Thou hast a vast bosom. Thou art the inner soul which resides in all creatures. Thou hast a deer on thy lap. Thou art he from whom innumerable worlds hang down like fruits hanging down from a tree. Thou art he who stretches his lips at the time of the universal dissolution for swallowing the universe. Thou art the ocean of milk. Thou hast vast teeth. Thou hast vast jaws. Thou hast a vast bristle.[141] Thou hast hair of infinite length. Thou hast a vast stomach. Thou hast matted locks of vast length. Thou art ever cheerful. Thou art of the form of grace. Thou art of the form of belief. Thou art he that has mountains for his bow (or weapons in battle). Thou art he that is full of affection to all creatures like a parent towards his offspring. Thou art he that has no affection. Thou art unvanquished. Thou art exceedingly devoted to (Yoga) contemplation.[142] Thou art of the form of the tree of the world.[143] Thou art he that is indicated by the tree of the world.[144] Thou art never satiated when eating (because of thy being of the form of fire, for of all elements, fire is never satiated with the quantity offered it for consumption). Thou art he that has the Wind for thy vehicle for going from place to place (in consequence of thy identity with fire). Thou art he that rangest over hills and little eminences. Thou art he that has his residence on the mountains of Meru. Thou art the chief of the celestials. Thou hast the Atharvans for thy head. Thou hast the Samans for thy mouth. Thou hast the thousand Richs for thy immeasurable eyes. Thou hast the Yajushes for thy feet and hands.[145] Thou art the Upanishads. Thou art the entire body of rituals (occurring in the scriptures). Thou art all that is mobile. Thou art he whose solicitations are never unfulfilled. Thou art he who is always inclined to grace. Thou art he that is of beautiful form. Thou art of the form of the good that one does to another. Thou art that which is dear. Thou art he that always advances towards thy devotees (in proportion as these advance for meeting thee). Thou art gold and other precious metals that are held dear by all. Thy effulgence is like that of burnished gold. Thou art the navel (of the universe). Thou art he that makes the fruits of sacrifices grow (for the benefit of those that perform sacrifices to thy glory). Thou art of the form of that faith and devotion which the righteous have in respect of sacrifices. Thou art the artificer of the universe. Thou art all that is immobile (in the form of mountains and other inert objects). Thou art the two and ten stages of life through which a person passes.[146] Thou art he that causes fright (by assuming the intermediate states between the ten enumerated). Thou art the beginning of all things. Thou art he that unites Jiva with Supreme Brahman through Yoga. Thou art identifiable with that Yoga which causes such a union between Jiva and Supreme Brahman. Thou art unmanifest (being the deepest stupefaction). Thou art the presiding deity of the fourth age (in consequence of thy identity with lust and wrath and cupidity and other evil passions that flow from that deity).[147] Thou art eternal Time (because of thy being of the form of that ceaseless succession of birth and death that goes on in the universe). Thou art of the form of the Tortoise.[148] Thou art worshipped by the Destroyer himself. Thou livest in the midst of associates. Thou admittest thy devotees as members of thy Gana. Thou hast Brahma himself for the driver of thy car. Thou sleepest on ashes.[149] Thou protectest the universe with ashes.[150] Thou art he whose body is made of ashes.[151] Thou art the tree that grants the fruition of all wishes. Thou art of the form of those that constitute thy Gana. Thou art the protector of the four and ten regions. Thou transcendent all the regions. Thou art full, (there being no deficiency). Thou art adored by all creatures. Thou art white (being pure and stainless). Thou art he that has his body, speech and mind perfectly stainless. Thou art he who has attained to that purity of existence which is called Emancipation. Thou art he who is incapable of being stained by impurity of any kind. Thou art he who has been attained to by the great preceptors of old. Thou residest in the form of Righteousness or duly in the four modes of life. Thou art that Righteousness which is of the form of rites and sacrifices. Thou art of the form of that skill which is possessed by the celestial artificer of the universe. Thou art he who is adored as the primeval form of the universe. Thou art of vast arms. Thy lips are of a coppery hue. Thou art of the form of the vast waters that are contained in the Ocean. Thou art exceedingly stable and fixed (being of the form of mountains and hills). Thou art Kapila. Thou art brown. Thou art all the hues whose mixture produces white. Thou art the period of life. Thou art ancient. Thou art recent. Thou art a Gandharva. Thou art the mother of the celestials in the form of Aditi (or the mother of all things, in the form of Earth). Thou art Garuda, the prince of birds, born of Vinata by Kasyapa, otherwise called Tarkshya. Thou art capable of being comprehended with ease. Thou art of excellent and agreeable speech. Thou art he that is armed with the battle-axe. Thou art he that is desirous of victory. Thou art he that assists others in the accomplishment of their designs.[152] Thou art an excellent friend.[153] Thou art he that bears a Vina made of two hollow gourds. Thou art of terrible wrath (which thou displayest at the time of the universal dissolution). Thou ownest for thy offspring, beings higher than men and deities (viz., Brahma and Vishnu). Thou art of the form of that Vishnu who floats on the waters after the universal dissolution. Thou devourest all things with great ferocity. Thou art he that procreates offspring. Thou art family and race, continuing from generation to generation. Thou art the blare that a bamboo flute gives out. Thou art faultless. Thou art he every limb of whose body is beautiful. Thou art full of illusion. Thou dost good to others without expecting any return. Thou art Wind. Thou art Fire. Thou art the bonds of the worlds which bind Jiva. Thou art the creator of those bonds. Thou art the tearer of such bonds. Thou art he that dwells with even the Daityas (who are the foes of all sacrifices). Thou dwellest with those that are the foes of all acts (and that have abandoned all acts). Thou art of large teeth, and thou art of mighty weapons. Thou art he that has been greatly censured. Thou art he that stupefied the Rishis dwelling in the Daruka forest. Thou art he that did good unto even thy detractors, viz., those Rishis residing in the Daruka forest. Thou art he who dispels all fears and who dispelling all the fears of those Rishis gave them Emancipation. Thou art he that has no wealth (in consequence of his inability to procure even his necessary wearing apparel). Thou art the lord of the celestials. Thou art the greatest of the gods (in consequence of thy being adored by even Indra and others that are regarded as the highest of the celestials). Thou art an object of adoration with even Vishnu. Thou art the slayer of those that are the foes of the deities. Thou art he that resides (in the form of the snake Sesha) in the nethermost region.[154] Thou art invisible but capable of being comprehended, even as the wind which though invisible is perceived by every body. Thou art he whose knowledge extends to the roots of everything and unto whom all things, even in their inner nature, are known. Thou art the object that is enjoyed by him that enjoys it. Thou art he among the eleven Rudras who is called Ajaikapat. Thou art the sovereign of the entire universe. Thou art of the form of all Jivas in the universe (in consequence of thy being covered by the three well-known attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas). Thou art he that is not subject to those three attributes. Thou art he that transcends all attributes and is a state of pure existence which is incapable of being described with the aid of any adjective that language can yield. Thou art the prince of physicians called Dhanwantari. Thou art a comet (in consequence of the calamities that flow from thee unto the sinful). Thou art the celestial generalissimo called Skanda. Thou art the king of the Yakshas, called Kuvera, who is thy inseparable associate and who is the Lord of all treasures in the world. Thou art Dhatri. Thou art Sakra. Thou art Vishnu. Thou art Mitra. Thou art Tashtri (the celestial artificer). Thou art the Pole Star. Thou art he that upholds all things. Thou art he called Prabhava amongst the Vasus. Thou art the wind which is capable of going everywhere (being the Sutra-atma that connects all things in the universe with a thread). Thou art Aryaman. Thou art Savitri. Thou art Ravi. Thou art that ancient king of great celebrity known by the name of Ushangu. Thou art he who protects all creatures in diverse ways. Thou art Mandhatri (because of thy competence to gratify all creatures). Thou art he from whom all creatures start into life. Thou art he who exists in diverse form. Thou art he who causes the diverse hues to exist in the universe. Thou art he who upholds all desires and all attributes (because of these flowing from thee). Thou art he who has the lotus on thy navel.[155] Thou art he within whose womb are innumerable mighty creatures. Thou art of face as beautiful as the moon. Thou art wind. Thou art fire. Thou art possessed of exceeding might. Thou art endued with tranquillity of soul. Thou art old. Thou art he that is known with the aid of Righteousness.[156] Thou art Lakshmi. Thou art the maker of the field of those actions (by which persons adore the supreme Deity). Thou art he who lives in the field of action. Thou art the soul of the field of action. Thou art the medicine or provoker of the attributes of sovereignty and the others.[157] All things lie in thee (for, as the Srutis declare, all things becomes one in thee, thyself being of the nature of that unconsciousness which exhibits itself in dreamless slumber). Thou art the lord of all creatures endued with life-breaths. Thou art the god of the gods. Thou art he who is attached to felicity. Thou art Sat (in the form of cause). Thou art Asat (in the form of effect). Thou art he who possesses the best of all things. Thou art he who resides on the mountains of Kailasa. Thou art he who repairs to the mountains of Himavat. Thou washest away all things besides thee like a mighty current washing away trees and other objects standing on its banks. Thou art the maker of Pushkara and other large lakes and pieces of natural water. Thou art possessed of knowledge of infinite kinds. Thou art the giver of infinite blessings. Thou art a merchant (who conveys the goods of this country to that country and brings the goods of that country to this for the convenience of human beings). Thou art a carpenter. Thou art the tree (of the world that supplies the timber for thy axe). Thou art the tree called Vakula (Mimusops Elengi, Linn.) Thou art the sandal-wood tree (Santalum album, Linn.). Thou art the tree called Chcchada (Alstonia Scholaris, syn Echitis, Scholaris, Roxb.). Thou art he whose neck is very strong. Thou art he whose shoulder joint is vast. Thou art not restless (but endued with steadiness in all thy acts and in respect of all thy faculties). Thou art the principal herbs and plants with their produce (in the form of rice and wheat and the other varieties of grain). Thou art he that grants success upon others in respect of the objects upon which they bestow their heart. Thou art all the correct conclusions in respect of both the Vedas and Grammar.[158] Thou art he who utters leonine roars. Thou art endued with leonine fangs. Thou ridest on the back of a lion for performing thy journeys. Thou ownest a car that is drawn by a lion. Thou art he called the truth of truth.[159] Thou art he whose dish or plate is constituted by the Destroyer of the universe.[160] Thou art always engaged in seeking the good of the worlds. Thou art he who rescues all creatures from distress (and leads them to the felicity of Emancipation). Thou art the bird called Saranga. Thou art a new (Young) swan. Thou art he who is displayed in beauty in consequence of the crest thou bearest on thy head (like the cock or the peacock). Thou art he who protects the place where assemblies of the wise sit for dispensing justice. Thou art the abode of all creatures. Thou art the cherisher of all creatures. Thou art Day and Night (which are the constituent elements of Eternity). Thou art he that is without fault and therefore, never censured. Thou art the upholder of all creatures. Thou art the refuge of all creatures. Thou art without birth. Thou art existent. Thou art ever fruitful. Thou art endued with Dharana and Dhyana and Samadhi. Thou art the steed Uchchaisravas. Thou art the giver of food. Thou art he who upholds the life-breaths of living creatures. Thou art endued with patience. Thou art possessed of intelligence. Thou art endued with exertion and cleverness. Thou art honoured by all. Thou art the giver of the fruits of Righteousness and sin. Thou art the cherisher of the senses (for the senses succeed in performing their respective functions in consequence of thee that presidest over them). Thou art the lord of all the luminaries. Thou art all collections of objects. Thou art he whose vestments are made of cowhides. Thou art he who dispels the grief of his devotees. Thou hast a golden arm. Thou art he who protects the bodies of Yogins who seek to enter their own selves. Thou art he who has reduced to nothingness all his foes.[161] Thou art he the measure of whose gladness is very great. Thou art he who achieved victory over the deity of desire that is irresistible. Thou art he who has subjugated his senses. Thou art the note called Gandhara in the musical octave. Thou art he who has an excellent and beautiful home (in consequence of its being placed upon the delightful mountains of Kailasa). Thou art he who is ever attached to penances. Thou art of the form of cheerfulness and contentment. Thou art he called vast or infinite.[162] Thou art he in whose honour the foremost of hymns has been composed. Thou art he whose dancing is characterised by vast strides and large leaps. Thou art he who is adored with reverence by the diverse tribes of Apsaras. Thou art he who owns a vast standard (bearing the device of the bull). Thou art the mountains of Meru. Thou art he who roves among all the summits of that great mountain. Thou art so mobile that it is very difficult to seize thee. Thou art capable of being explained by preceptors to disciples, although thou art incapable of being described in words. Thou art of the form of that instruction which preceptors impart to disciples. Thou art he that can perceive all agreeable scents simultaneously or at the same instant of time. Thou art of the form of the porched gates of cities and palaces. Thou art of the form of the moats and ditches that surround fortified towns and give the victory to the besieged garrison. Thou art the Wind. Thou art of the form of fortified cities and towns encompassed by walls and moats. Thou art the prince of all winged creatures, (being, as thou art, of the form of Garuda). Thou art he who multiplies the creation by union with the opposite sexes. Thou art the first of all in respect of virtues and knowledge. Thou art superior to even him who is the first of all in virtues and knowledge. Thou transcendest all the virtue and knowledge. Thou art eternal and immutable as also dependent on thyself. Thou art the master and protector of the deities and Asuras. Thou art the master and protector of all creatures. Thou art he who wears a coat of mail. Thou art he whose arms are competent to grind all foes. Thou art an object of adoration with even him who is called Suparvan in heaven.[163] Thou art he who grants the power of bearing or upholding all things.[164] Thou art thyself capable of bearing all things. Thou art fixed and steady (without being at all unstable). Thou art white or pure (being, as thou art, without any stain or blot). Thou bearest the trident that is competent to destroy (all things).[165] Thou art the grantor of bodies or physical forms unto those that constantly revolve in the universe of birth and death. Thou art more valuable than wealth. Thou art the conduct or way of the righteous (in the form of goodness and courtesy). Thou art he who had torn the head of Brahma after due deliberation (and not impelled by mere wrath). Thou art he who is marked with all those auspicious marks that are spoken of in the sciences of palmistry and phrenology and other branches of knowledge treating of the physical frame as the indicator of mental peculiarities. Thou art that wooden bar which is called the Aksha of a car and, therefore, art thou he who is attached to the car represented by the body. Thou art attached to all things (in consequence of thy pervading all things as their soul). Thou art endued with very great might, being as thou art a hero of heroes. Thou art the Veda. Thou art the Smritis, the Itihasas, the Puranas, and other scriptures. Thou art the illustrious deity of every sacred shrine. Thou art he who has the Earth for his car. Thou art the inert elements that enter into the composition of every creature. Thou art he who imparts life into every combination of those inert element. Thou art the Pranava and other sacred Mantras that instil life into dead matter. Thou art he that casts tranquil glances. Thou art exceedingly harsh (in consequence of thy being the destroyer of all things). Thou art he in whom are innumerable precious attributes and possessions. Thou hast a body that is red. Thou art he who has all the vast oceans as so many ponds filled for thy drinking.[166] Thou art the root of the tree of the world. Thou art exceedingly beautiful and shinest with surpassing grandeur. Thou art of the form of ambrosia or nectar. Thou art both cause and effect. Thou art an ocean of penances (being as thou art a great Yogin). Thou art he that is desirous of ascending to the highest state of existence. Thou art he that has already attained to that state. Thou art he who is distinguished for the purity of his conduct and acts and observances. Thou art he who art possessed of great fame (in consequence of the Righteousness of his behaviour). Thou art the ornament of armies (being as thou art of the form of prowess and courage). Thou art he who is adorned with celestial ornaments. Thou art Yoga. Thou art he from whom flow eternal time measured by Yugas and Kalpas. Thou art he who conveys all creatures from place.[167] Thou art of the form of Righteousness and sin and their intermixture (such as are displayed in the successive Yugas). Thou art great and formless. Thou art he who slew the mighty Asura that had approached against the sacred city of Varanasi in the form of an infuriate elephant of vast proportions. Thou art of the form of death. Thou givest to all creatures such fruition of their wishes as accords with their merits. Thou art approachable. Thou art conversant with all things that are beyond the ken of the senses. Thou art conversant with the Tattwas (and therefore, thoroughly fixed). Thou art he who incessantly shines in beauty. Thou wearest garlands that stretch down from thy neck to the feet. Thou art that Hara who has the Moon for his beautiful eye. Thou art the salt ocean of vast expanse. Thou art the first three Yugas (viz., Krita, Treta, and Dwapara). Thou art he whose appearance is always fraught with advantage to others. Thou art he who has three eyes (in the form of the scriptures, the preceptor, and meditation). Thou art he whose forms are exceedingly subtile (being as thou art the subtile forms of the primal elements). Thou art he whose ears are bored for wearing jewelled Kundalas. Thou art the bearer of matted locks. Thou art the point (in the alphabet) which indicates the nasal sound. Thou art the two dots i.e., Visarga (in the Sanskrit alphabet which indicate the sound of the aspirated H). Thou art possessed of an excellent face. Thou art the shaft that is shot by the warrior for encompassing the destruction of his foe. Thou art all the weapons that are used by warriors. Thou art endued with patience capable of bearing all things. Thou art he whose knowledge has arisen from the cessation of all physical and mental functions.[168] Thou art he who has become displayed as Truth in consequence of the cessation of all other faculties. Thou art that note which, arising from the region called Gandhara, is exceedingly sweet to the ear. Thou art he who is armed with the mighty bow (called Pinaka). Thou art he who is the understanding and the desires that exist in all creatures, besides being the supreme upholder of all beings. Thou art he from whom all acts flow. Thou art that wind which rises at the time of the universal dissolution and which is capable of churning the entire universe even as the staff in the hands of the dairy-maid churns the milk in the milkpot. Thou art he that is full. Thou art he that sees all things. Thou art the sound that arises from slapping one palm against another. Thou art he the palm of whose hand serves as the dish or plate whence to take his food. Thou art he who is possessed of an adamantine body. Thou art exceedingly great. Thou art of the form of an umbrella. Thou art he who has an excellent umbrella. Thou art well-known to be identical with all creatures. Thou art he who having put forth three feet covered all the universe with two and wanted space for the remaining one. Thou art he whose head is bald. Thou art he whose form is exceedingly ugly and fierce. Thou art he who has undergone infinite modifications and become all things in the universe. Thou art he who bears the well-known badge of Sanyasa, viz., the stick. Thou art he who has a Kunda. Thou art he who is incapable of being attained to by means of acts. Thou art he who is identical with the green-eyed king of beasts (viz., the lion). Thou art of the form of all the points of the compass. Thou art he who is armed with the thunder. Thou art he who has a hundred tongues. Thou art he who has a thousand feet and thousand heads.[169] Thou art the lord and chief of the celestials. Thou art he that is made up of all the gods. Thou art the great Master or preceptor. Thou art he who has a thousand arms. Thou art he who is competent to obtain the fruition of every wish. Thou art he whose protection is sought by every one. Thou art he who is the creator of all the worlds. Thou art he who is the great cleanser of all from every kind of sin, in the form of shrines and sacred waters. Thou art he who has three high Mantras.[170] Thou art the youngest son of Aditi and Kasyapa, (being in the form of the dwarf who is otherwise known by the name of Upendra and who beguiled the Asura Vali of his lordship of the three worlds and restored it to the chief of the celestials). Thou art both black and tawny (being of the form which is known as Hari-Hara). Thou art the maker of the Brahmana's rod.[171] Thou art armed with the hundred-killer, the noose, and the dart. Thou art he that took his birth within the primeval lotus. "'"'"Thou art he who is endued with a vast womb. Thou art he who has the Vedas in his womb. Thou art he who takes his rise from that infinite waste of waters which succeeds the dissolution of the universe. Thou art he who is endued with rays of effulgent light. Thou art the creator of the Vedas. Thou art he who studies the Vedas. Thou art he who is conversant with the meaning of the Vedas. Thou art devoted to Brahman. Thou art the refuge of all persons devoted to Brahman. Thou art of infinite forms. Thou art the bearer of innumerable bodies. Thou art endued with irresistible prowess.[172] Thou art the soul or nature that transcends the three universal attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas). Thou art the lord of all Jivas. Thou art endued with the speed of the wind. Thou art possessed of the fleetness of the mind. Thou art always smeared with sandal-paste. Thou art the end of the stalk of the primeval lotus.[173] Thou art he who brought the celestial cow Surabhi down from a superior station to an inferior one by denouncing a curse upon her.[174] Thou art that Brahma who was unable to see thy end. Thou art adorned with a large wreath of Karnikara flowers. Thou art adorned with a diadem of blue gems. Thou art the wielder of the bow called Pinaka. Thou art the master of that knowledge which treats of Brahman.[175] Thou art he who has subjugated his senses by the aid of thy knowledge of Brahman. Thou art he who bearest Ganga on thy head.[176] Thou art the husband of Uma, the daughter of Himavat. Thou art mighty (in consequence of thy having assumed the form of the vast Boar for raising the submerged Earth). Thou art he who protects the universe by assuming diverse incarnations. Thou art worthy of adoration. Thou art that primeval Being with the equine head who recited the Vedas with a thundering voice. Thou art he whose grace is very great. Thou art the great subjugator. Thou art he who has slain all his foes (in the form of passions). Thou art both white and tawny (being as thou art half male and half female).[177] Thou art possessed of a body whose complexion is like that of gold.[178] Thou art he that is of the form of pure joy, (being, as thou art, above the five sheathes which the Jiva consists of, viz., the Anna-maya, the Prana-maya, the Mano-maya, the Vijnana-maya, and the Ananda-maya ones). Thou art of a restrained soul. Thou art the foundation upon which rests that Ignorance which is called Pradhana and which, consisting of the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas is the cause whence the universe has sprung. Thou art he whose faces are turned to every direction.[179] Thou art he who has three eyes (in the forms of the Sun, the Moon, and Fire). Thou art he who is superior to all creatures (in consequence of thy righteousness whose measure is the greatest). Thou art the soul of all mobile beings. Thou art of the form of the subtile soul (which is incapable of being perceived). Thou art the giver of immortality in the form of Emancipation as the fruit of all acts of righteousness achieved by creatures without the desire of fruits.[180] Thou art the preceptor of even those that are the gods of the gods. Thou art Vasu, the son of Aditi. Thou art he who is endued with innumerable rays of light, who brings forth the universe, and who is of the form of that Soma which is drunk in sacrifices. Thou art Vyasa, the author of the Puranas and other sacred histories. Thou art the creations of Vyasa's brain (because of thy being identical with the Puranas and other sacred histories) both abridged and unabridged. Thou art the sum total of Jivas. Thou art the Season. Thou art the Year. Thou art the Month. Thou art the Fortnight. Thou art those sacred Days that end or conclude these periods. Thou art the Kalas. Thou art the Kashthas. Thou art the Lavas. Thou art the Matras. Thou art the Muhurtas and Days and Nights. Thou art the Kshanas.[181] Thou art the soil upon which the tree of the universe stands. Thou art the seed of all creatures [being of the form of that Unmanifest Chaitanya (consciousness) endued with Maya or illusion whence all creatures spring]. Thou art Mahattatwa. Thou art the sprout of Jiva, (being of the form of Consciousness which springs up after Mahattatwa). Thou art Sat or Effect. Thou art Asat or Cause. Thou art Manifest (being seizable by the senses). Thou art the Father. Thou art the Mother. Thou art the Grandfather. Thou art the door to Heaven (because of thy identity with Penances). Thou art the door of the generation of all creatures (because of thy identity with desire). Thou art the door of Emancipation (because of thy identity with the absence of Desire which alone can lead to the merging into Brahman). Thou art those acts of righteousness which lead to the felicity of heaven. Thou art Nirvana (or that cessation of individual or separate existence which is Emancipation). Thou art the gladdener (who gives all kinds of joy to every creature). Thou art that region of Truth (to which they that are foremost in righteousness attain). Thou art superior to even that region of Truth which is attainable by the righteous. Thou art he who is the creator of both the deities and the Asuras. Thou art he who is the refuge of both the deities and the Asuras. Thou art the preceptor of both the deities and the Asuras (being as thou art of the form of both Vrihaspati and Sukra). Thou art he who is ever victorious. Thou art he who is ever worshipped by the deities and the Asuras. Thou art he who guides the deities and the Asuras even as the Mahamatra guides the elephant. Thou art the refuge of all the deities and the Asuras. Thou art he who is the chief of both the deities and the Asuras (being as thou art of the form of both Indra and Virochana). Thou art he who is the leader in battle of both the deities and the Asuras (being as thou art of the form of Karttikeya and Kesi, the leaders of the celestial and the Daitya armies). Thou art he who transcends the senses and shines by himself. Thou art of the form of the celestial Rishis like Narada and others. Thou art the grantor of boons unto the deities and Asuras (in the form of Brahman and Rudra). Thou art he who rules the hearts of the deities and the Asuras. Thou art he into whom the universe enters (when it is dissolved). Thou art the refuge of even him who is the ruler of the hearts of both the deities and the Asuras. Thou art he whose body is made up of all the deities.[182] Thou art he who has no Being superior to thee of whom to think. Thou art he who is the inner soul of the deities. Thou art he who has sprung from his own self. Thou art of the form of immobile things. Thou art he who covers the three worlds with three steps of his. Thou art possessed of great learning. Thou art stainless. Thou art he who is freed from the quality of Rajas. Thou art he who transcends destruction. Thou art he in whose honour hymns should be sung. Thou art the master of the irresistible elephant represented by Time. Thou art of the form of that lord of Tigers who is worshipped in the country of the Kalingas.[183] Thou art he who is called the lion among the deities (in consequence of the pre-eminence of thy prowess). Thou art he who is the foremost of men. Thou art endued with great wisdom. Thou art he who first takes a share of the offerings in sacrifice. Thou art imperceptible. Thou art the sum-total of all the deities. Thou art he in whom penances predominate. Thou art always in excellent Yoga. Thou art auspicious. Thou art armed with the thunder-bolt. Thou art the source whence the weapons called Prasas have taken their origin. Thou art he whom thy devotees attain to in diverse ways. Thou art Guha (the celestial generalissimo). Thou art the supreme limit of felicity.[184] Thou art identical with thy creation. Thou art he who rescues thy creatures from death (by granting them Emancipation). Thou art the cleanser of all including Brahma himself. Thou art of the form of bulls and other horned animals. Thou art he who is fond of mountain summits. Thou art the planet Saturn. Thou art Kuvera, the chief of the Yakshas. Thou art complete faultlessness. Thou art he who inspires gladness. Thou art all the celestials united together. Thou art the cessation of all things. Thou art all the duties that appertain to all the modes of life. Thou art he who has an eye on his forehead. Thou art he who sports with the universe as his marble ball. Thou art of the form of deer. Thou art endued with the energy that is of the form of knowledge and penance. Thou art the lord of all immobile things (in the form of Himavat and Meru). Thou art he who has subjugated his senses by various regulations and vows. Thou art he whose objects have all been fulfilled. Thou art identical with Emancipation. Thou art different from him whom we worship. Thou hast truth for thy penances. Thou art of a pure heart. Thou art he who presides over all vows and fasts (in consequence of thy being the giver of their fruits). Thou art the highest (being of the form of Turiya). Thou art Brahman. Thou art the highest refuge of the devotees. Thou art he who transcends all bonds (being Emancipate). Thou art freed from the linga body. Thou art endued with every kind of prosperity. Thou art he who enhances the prosperity of thy devotees. Thou art that which is incessantly undergoing changes. "'"'"I have thus, O Krishna, hymned the praises of the illustrious Deity by reciting his names in the order of their importance. Who is there that can hymn the praises of the lord of the universe, that great Lord of all who deserves our adorations and worship and reverence, whom the very gods with Brahma at their head are unable to praise and whom the Rishis also fail to sing? Aided, however, by my devotion to him, and having received his permission, I have praised that Lord of sacrifices, that Deity of supreme puissance, that foremost of all creatures endued with intelligence. By praising with these names that enhance one's auspiciousness of the great lord of blessedness, a worshipper of devoted soul and pure heart succeeds in attaining to his own self. These names constitute a hymn that furnishes the best means of attaining to Brahman. With the aid of this hymn one is sure to succeed in attaining to Emancipation. Rishis and the deities all praise the highest deity by uttering this hymn. Hymned by persons of restrained soul Mahadeva becomes gratified with those that hymn his praises so. The illustrious deity is always full of compassion towards his devotees. Endued with omnipotence, he it is that gives Emancipation to those that worship him. So also, they among men that are foremost, that are possessed of faith and devotion hear and recite for others and utter with reverence the praises of that highest and eternal Lord viz. Isana, in all their successive lives and adore him in thought, word, and deed, and adoring him thus at all times, viz. when they are lying or seated or walking or awake or opening the eyelids or shutting them, and thinking of him repeatedly, become objects of reverence with all their fellowmen and derive great gratification and exceeding joy. When a creature becomes cleansed of all his sins in course of millions of births in diverse orders of being, it is then that devotion springs up in his heart for Mahadeva. It is through good luck alone that undivided devotion to Bhava who is the original cause (of the universe) fully springs up in the heart of one that is conversant with every mode of worshipping that great Deity.[185] Such stainless and pure devotion to Rudra, that has singleness of purpose and that is simply irresistible in its course, is seldom to be found among even the deities, and never among men. It is through the grace of Rudra that such devotion arises in the hearts of human beings. In consequence of such devotion, men, identifying themselves wholly with Mahadeva, succeed in attaining to the highest success. The illustrious Deity who is always inclined to extend his grace towards them that seek him with humility, and throw themselves with their whole soul upon him rescues them from the world. Except the great Deity who frees creatures from rebirth, all other gods constantly nullify the penances of men, for men have no other source of puissance that is as great as these."[186] It was even thus Tandi of tranquil soul, resembling Indra himself in splendour, praised the illustrious Lord of all existent and non-existent things,--that great Deity clad in animal skins. Indeed, Brahma had sung this hymn in the presence of Sankara. Thou art a Brahmana (being conversant with Brahman and devoted to those that are conversant with Brahman). Thou shalt, therefore, comprehend it well. This is cleansing, and washes away all sins. This confers Yoga and Emancipation and heaven and contentment. He who recites this hymn with undivided devotion to Sankara succeeds in attaining to that high end which is theirs that are devoted to the doctrines of the Sankhya philosophy. That worshipper who recites this hymn daily for one year with singleness of devotion succeeds in obtaining the end that he desires. This hymn is a great mystery. It formerly resided in the breast of Brahma the Creator. Brahma imparted it unto Sakra. Sakra imparted unto Mrityu. Mrityu imparted it unto the Rudras. From the Rudras Tandi got it. Indeed Tandi acquired it in the region of Brahman as the reward of his severe austerities. Tandi communicated it to Sukra, and Sukra of Bhrigu's race communicated it to Gautama. Gautama in his turn, O descendant of Madhu, communicated it to Vaivaswata-Manu. Manu communicated it unto Narayana of great intelligence, numbered among the Sadhyas and held exceedingly dear by him. The illustrious Narayana, numbered among the Sadhyas and possessed of glory that knows no diminution, communicated it to Yama. Vaivaswat Yama communicated it to Nachiketa. Nachiketa, O thou of Vrishni's race, communicated to Markandeya. From Markandeya, O Janarddana, I obtained it as the reward of my vows and fasts. To thee, O slayer of foes, I communicate that hymn unheard by others. This hymn leads to heaven. It dispels disease and bestows long life. This is worthy of the highest praise, and is consistent with the Vedas.'" "'Krishna continued, "That person, O Partha, who recites this hymn with a pure heart observing the vow of Brahmacharyya, and with his senses under control, regularly for one whole year, succeeds in obtaining the fruits of a horse-sacrifice. Danavas and Yakshas and Rakshasas and Pisachas and Yatudhanas and Guhyakas and snakes can do no injury to him."'" SECTION XVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'After Vasudeva had ceased to speak, the great Yogin, viz. the Island-born Krishna, addressed Yudhisthira, saying,--"O son, do thou recite this hymn consisting of the thousand and eight names of Mahadeva, and let Maheswara be gratified with thee. In former days, O son, I was engaged in the practice of severe austerities on the breast of the mountains of Meru from desire of obtaining a son. It is this very hymn that was recited by me. As the reward of this, I obtained the fruition of all my wishes, O son of Pandu. Thou wilt also, by reciting this same hymn, obtain from Sarva the fruition of all thy wishes."--After this, Kapila, the Rishi who promulgated the doctrines that go by the name of Sankhya, and who is honoured by the gods themselves, said,--"I adore Bhava with great devotion for many lives together. The illustrious Deity at last became gratified with me and gave me knowledge that is capable of aiding the acquirer in getting over rebirth."--After this, the Rishi named Charusirsha, that dear friend of Sakra and known otherwise under the name of Alamvana's son and who is filled with compassion, said,--"I, in former days, repaired to the mountains of Gokarna and sat myself to practise severe penances for a hundred years. As the reward of those penances, I obtained from Sarva, O son of king Pandu, a hundred sons, all of whom were born without the intervention of woman, of well-restrained soul, conversant with righteousness, possessed of great splendour, free from disease and sorrow, and endued with lives extending over a hundred thousand years."--Then the illustrious Valmiki, addressing Yudhishthira, said,--"Once upon a time, in course of a dialectical disputation, certain ascetics that were possessors of the homa fire denounced me as one guilty of Brahmanicide. As soon as they had denounced me as such, the sin of Brahmanicide, O Bharata, possessed me. I then, for cleansing myself, sought the protection of the sinless Isana who is irresistible in energy. I become cleansed of all my sins. That dispeller of all sorrows, viz., the destroyer of the triple city of the Asuras, said unto me,--'Thy fame shall be great in the world.'"--Then Jamadagni's son, that foremost of all righteous persons, shining like the Sun with blazing splendour in the midst of that conclave of Rishis, said unto the son of Kunti these words:--"I was afflicted with the sin, O eldest son of Pandu, of Brahmanicide for having slain my brothers who were all learned Brahmanas. For purifying myself, I sought the protection, O king, of Mahadeva. I hymned the praises of the great Deity by reciting his names. At this, Bhava became gratified with me and gave me a battle-axe and many other celestial weapons. And he said unto me,--'Thou shalt be freed from sin and thou shalt be invincible in battle; Death himself shall not succeed in overcoming thee for thou shalt be freed from disease.'--Even thus did the illustrious and crested Deity of auspicious form said unto me. Through the grace of that Deity of supreme intelligence I obtained all that He had said." Then Viswamitra said,--"I was formerly a Kshatriya. I paid my adorations to Bhava with the desire of becoming a Brahmana. Through the grace of that great Deity I succeeded in obtaining the high status of a Brahmana that is so difficult to obtain."--Then the Rishi Asita-Devala, addressing the royal son of Pandu, said,--"In former days, O son of Kunti, through the curse of Sakra, all my merit due to the acts of righteousness I had performed, was destroyed. The puissant Mahadeva it was who kindly gave me back that merit together with great fame and a long life."--The illustrious Rishi Gritsamada, the dear friend of Sakra, who resembled the celestial preceptor Vrihaspati himself in splendour, addressing Yudhishthira of Ajamida's race said,--"The inconceivable Sakra had, in days of yore, performed a sacrifice extending over a thousand years. While that sacrifice was going on, I was engaged by Sakra in reciting the Samans. Vasishtha, the son of that Manu who sprung from the eyes of Brahma, came to that sacrifice and addressing me, said,--'O foremost of regenerate persons, the Rathantara is not being recited properly by thee. O best of Brahmanas, cease to earn demerit by reading so faultily, and with the aid of thy understanding do thou read the Samans correctly. O thou of wicked understanding, why dost thou perpetrate such sin that is destructive of sacrifice.'--Having said these words, the Rishi Vasishtha, who was very wrathful, gave way to that passion and addressing me once more, said,--'Be thou an animal divested of intelligence, subject to grief, ever filled with fear, and a denizen of trackless forests destitute of both wind and water and abandoned by other animals. Do thou thus pass ten thousand years with ten and eight hundred years in addition. That forest in which thou shalt have to pass this period will be destitute of all holy trees and will, besides, be the haunt of Rurus and lions. Verily, thou shalt have to become a cruel deer plunged in excess of grief.'--As soon as he had said these words, O son of Pritha, I immediately became transformed into a deer. I then sought the protection of Maheswara. The great Deity said unto me,--'Thou shalt be freed from disease of every kind, and besides immortality shall be thine. Grief shall never afflict thee. Thy friendship with Indra shall remain unchanged, and let the sacrifices of both Indra and thyself increase.' The illustrious and puissant Mahadeva favours all creatures in this way. He is always the great dispenser and ordainer in the matter of the happiness and sorrow of all living creatures. That illustrious Deity is incapable of being comprehended in thought, word, or deed. O son, O thou that are the best of warriors (through the grace of Mahadeva), there is none that is equal to me in learning."--After this, Vasudeva, that foremost of all intelligent men, once more said,--"Mahadeva of golden eyes was gratified by me with my penances. Gratified with me, O Yudhishthira, the illustrious Deity said unto me,--'Thou shalt, O Krishna, through my grace, become dearer to all persons than wealth which is coveted by all. Thou shalt be invincible in battle. Thy energy shall be equal to that of Fire.' Thousands of other boons Mahadeva gave unto me on that occasion. In a former incarnation I adored Mahadeva on the Manimantha mountain for millions of years. Gratified with me, the illustrious Deity said unto me these words:--'Blessed be thou, do thou solicit boons as thou wishest. Bowing unto him with a bend of my head, I said these words,--'If the puissant Mahadeva has been gratified with me, then let my devotion to him be unchanged, O Isana! Even this is the boon that I solicit.'--The great God said unto me,--'Be it so'--and disappeared there and then." "'Jaigishavya said, "O Yudhishthira, formerly in the city of Varanasi, the puissant Mahadeva searching me out, conferred upon me the eight attributes of sovereignty." "'Garga said,--"O son of Pandu, gratified with me in consequence of mental sacrifice which I had performed, the great God bestowed upon me, on the banks of the sacred stream Saraswati, that wonderful science, viz., the knowledge of Time with its four and sixty branches. He also bestowed upon me, a thousand sons, all possessed of equal merit and fully conversant with the Vedas. Through his grace, their periods of life as also that of mine have become extended to ten millions of years." "'Parasara said,--"In former times I gratified Sarva, O king. I then cherished the desire of obtaining a son that would be possessed of great ascetic merit, endued with superior energy, and addressed to high Yoga, that would earn world-wide fame, arrange the Vedas, and become the home of prosperity, that would be devoted to the Vedas and the Brahmanas and be distinguished for compassion. Even such a son was desired by me from Maheswara. Knowing that this was the wish of my heart, that foremost of Deities said unto me,--'Through the fruition of that object of thine which thou wishest to obtain from me, thou shalt have a son of the name of Krishna. In that creation which shall be known after the name of Savarni-Manu, that son of thine shall be reckoned among the seven Rishis. He shall arrange the Vedas, and be the propagator of Kuru's race. He shall, besides, be the author of the ancient histories and do good to the universe. Endued with severe penances, he shall, again, be the dear friend of Sakra. Freed from diseases of every kind, that son of thine, O Parasara, shall besides, be immortal.'--Having said these words, the great Deity disappeared there and then. Even such is the good, O Yudhishthira, that I have obtained from that indestructible and immutable God, endued with the highest penances and supreme energy." "'Mandavya said,--"In former times though not a thief and yet wrongly suspected of theft, I was impaled (under the orders of a king). I then adored the illustrious Mahadeva who said unto me,--'Thou shalt soon be freed from impalement and live for millions of years. The pangs due to impalement shall not be thine. Thou shalt also be freed from every kind of affliction and disease. And since, O ascetic, this body of thine hath sprung from the fourth foot of Dharma (viz., Truth), thou shalt be unrivalled on Earth. Do thou make thy life fruitful. Thou shalt, without any obstruction, be able to bathe in all the sacred waters of the Earth. And after the dissolution of thy body, I shall, O learned Brahmana, ordain that thou shall enjoy the pure felicity of heaven for unending Time.'--Having said these words unto me, the adorable Deity having the bull for his vehicle, viz., Maheswara of unrivalled splendour and clad in animal skin, O king, disappeared there and then with all his associates." "'Galava said, "Formerly I studied at the feet of my preceptor Viswamitra. Obtaining his permission I set out for home with the object of seeing my father. My mother (having become a widow), was filled with sorrow and weeping bitterly, said unto me,--'Alas, thy father will never see his son who, adorned with Vedic knowledge, has been permitted by his preceptor to come home and who, possessed of all the graces of youth, is endued with self-restraint.'--Hearing these words of my mother, I became filled with despair in respect of again beholding my sire. I then paid my adoration with a rapt soul to Maheswara who, gratified with me, showed himself to me and said,--'Thy sire, thy mother, and thyself, O son, shall all be freed from death. Go quickly and enter thy abode; thou shall behold thy sire there.'--Having obtained the permission of the illustrious Deity, I then repaired to my home, O Yudhishthira, and beheld my father, O son, coming out after having finished his daily sacrifice. And he came out, bearing in his hands a quantity of Homa-fuel and Kusa grass and some fallen fruits. And he seemed to have already taken his daily food, for he had washed himself properly. Throwing down those things from his hand, my father, with eyes bathed in tears (of joy), raised me, for I had prostrated myself at his feet. Embracing me he smelt my head, O son of Pandu, and said.--'By good luck, O son, art thou seen by me. Thou hast come back, having acquired knowledge from the preceptor.'" "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these marvellous and most wonderful feats of the illustrious Mahadeva recited by the ascetics, the son of Pandu became amazed. Then Krishna, that foremost of all intelligent persons, spoke once more unto Yudhishthira, that ocean of righteousness, like Vishnu speaking unto Puruhuta. "'Vasudeva said, "Upamanyu, who seemed to blaze with effulgence like the Sun, said unto me,--'Those sinful men that are stained with unrighteous deeds, do not succeed in attaining to Isana. Their dispositions being stained by the attributes of Rajas and Tamas, they can never approach the Supreme Deity. It is only those regenerate persons who are of cleansed souls that succeed in attaining to the Supreme Deity. Even if a person lives in the enjoyment of every pleasure and luxury, yet if he be devoted to the Supreme Deity, he comes to be regarded as the equal of forest recluses of cleansed souls. If Rudra be gratified with a person, he can confer upon him the states of either Brahma or of Kesava or of Sakra with all the deities under him, or the sovereignty of the three worlds. Those men, O sire, who worship Bhava even mentally, succeed in freeing themselves from all sins and attain to a residence in heaven with all the gods. A person who razes houses to the ground and destroys tanks and lakes indeed, who devastates the whole universe, does not become stained with sin, if he adores and worships the illustrious Deity of three eyes. A person that is destitute of every auspicious indication and that is stained by every sin, has all his sins destroyed by meditating upon Siva. Even worms and insects and birds, O Kesava, that devote themselves to Mahadeva, are enabled to rove in perfect fearlessness. Even this is my settled conviction that those men who devote themselves to Mahadeva become certainly emancipated from rebirth.' After this, Krishna again addressed Yudhishthira the son of Dharma in the following words. "'Vishnu said, "O Great King, Aditya, Chandra, Wind, Fire, Heaven, Earth, the Vasus, the Viswedevas, Dhatri, Aryyaman, Sukra, Vrihaspati, the Rudras, the Saddhyas, Varuna, Brahma, Sakra, Maruts, the Upanishads that deal with knowledge of Brahman, Truth, the Vedas, the Sacrifices, Sacrificial Presents, Brahmanas reciting the Vedas, Soma, Sacrificer, the shares of the deities in sacrificial offerings or clarified butter poured in sacrifices, Raksha, Diksha, all kinds of restraints in the form of vows and fasts and rigid observances, Swaha, Vashat, the Brahmanas, the celestial cow, the foremost acts of righteousness, the wheel of Time, Strength, Fame, Self-restraint, the Steadiness of all persons endued with intelligence, all acts of goodness and the reverse, the seven Rishis, Understanding of the foremost order, all kinds of excellent touch, the success of all (religious) acts, the diverse tribes of the deities, those beings that drink heat, those that are drinkers of Soma, Clouds, Suyamas, Rishitas, all creatures having Mantras for their bodies, Abhasuras, those beings that live upon scents only, those that live upon vision only, those that restrain their speech, those that restrain their minds, those that are pure, those that are capable of assuming diverse forms through Yoga-puissance, those deities that live on touch (as their food), those deities that subsist on vision and those that subsist upon the butter poured in sacrifices, those beings that are competent to create by fiats of their will the objects they require, they that are regarded as the foremost ones among the deities, and all the other deities, O descendant of Ajamida, the Suparnas, the Gandharvas, the Pisachas, the Danavas, Yakshas, the Charanas, the snakes, all that is gross and all that is exceedingly subtile, all that is soft and all that is not subtile, all sorrows and all joys, all sorrows that come after joy and all joy that comes after sorrow, the Sankhya philosophy, Yoga, and that which transcends objects which are regarded as foremost and very superior,--all adorable things, all the deities, and all the protectors of the universe who entering into the physical forces sustain and uphold this ancient creation of that illustrious Deity,--have sprung from that Creator of all creatures. All this that I have mentioned is grosser than that which the wise think of with the aid of Penances. Indeed, that subtile Brahma is the cause of life. I bow my head in reverence to it. Let that immutable and indestructible Master, always adored by us, grant us desirable boons. That person who, subjugating his senses and purifying himself, recites this hymn, without interruption in respect of his vow, for one month, succeeds in obtaining the merit that is attached to a Horse-sacrifice. By reciting this hymn the Brahmana succeeds in acquiring all the Vedas; the Kshatriya becomes crowned with victory, O son of Pritha; the Vaisya becomes successful in obtaining wealth and cleverness; and the Sudra, in winning happiness here and a good end hereafter. Persons of great fame, by reciting this prince of hymns that is competent to cleanse every sin and that is highly sacred and purifying, set their hearts on Rudra. A man by reciting this prince of hymns succeeds in living in heaven for as many years as there are pores in his body."'" SECTION XIX "'Yudhishthira said, "I ask, O chief of Bharata's race, what is the origin of the saying, about discharging all duties jointly at the time of a person's taking the hand of his spouse in marriage? Is that saying in respect of discharging all duties together, due only to what is laid down by the great Rishis in days of yore, or does it refer to the duty of begetting offspring from religious motives, or has it reference to only the carnal pleasure that is expected from such union? The doubt that fills my mind in this respect is very great. What is spoken of as joint duties by the sages is in my consideration incorrect. That which is called in this world the union for practising all duties together ceases with death and is not to be seen to subsist hereafter. This union for practising all duties together leads to heaven. But heaven, O grandsire, is attained to by persons that are dead. Of a married couple it is seen that only one dies at a time. Where does the other then remain? Do tell me this. Men attain to diverse kinds of fruits by practising diverse kinds of duties. The occupations again, to which men betake themselves are of diverse kinds. Diverse, again, are the hells to which they go in consequence of such diversity of duties and acts. Women, in particular, the Rishis have said, are false in behaviour. When human beings are such, and when women in particular have been declared in the ordinances to be false, how, O sire, can there be a union between the sexes for purposes of practising all duties together? In the very Vedas one may read that women are false. The word 'Duty', as used in the Vedas, seems to have been coined in the first instance for general application (so that it is applied to practices that have no merit in them). Hence the application of that word to the rites of marriage is, instead of being correct, only a form of speech forcibly applied where application it has none.[187] The subject seems to me to be inexplicable although I reflect upon it incessantly. O grandsire, O thou of great wisdom, it behoveth thee to expound this to me in detail, clearly and according to what has been laid down in the Sruti. In fact, do thou explain to me what its characteristics are, and the way in which it has come to pass!"[188] "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Ashtavakra and the lady known by the name of Disa. In days of yore Ashtavakra of severe penances, desirous of marriage, begged the high-souled Rishi Vadanya of his daughter. The name by which the damsel was known was Suprabha. In beauty she was unrivalled on Earth. In virtues, dignity, conduct, and manners, she was superior to all the girls. By a glance alone that girl of beautiful eyes had robbed him of his heart even as a delightful grove in spring, adorned with flowers, robs the spectator of his heart. The Rishi addressed Ashtavakra and said,--'Yes, I shall bestow my daughter on thee. Listen, however, to me. Make a journey to the sacred North. Thou wilt see many things there!'[189] "'"Ashtavakra said, 'It behoveth thee to tell me what I shall see in that region. Indeed, I am ready to execute whatever command may be laid upon me by thee.' "'"Vadanya said, 'Passing over the dominions of the lord of Treasures thou will cross the Himavat mountains. Thou wilt then behold the plateau on which Rudra resides. It is inhabited by Siddhas and Charanas. It abounds with the associates of Mahadeva, frolicsome and fond of dance and possessed of diverse forms. It is peopled with also many Pisachas, O master, of diverse forms and all daubed with fragrant powders of diverse hues, and dancing with joyous hearts in accompaniment with instruments of different kinds made of brass. Surrounded by these who move with electric rapidity in the mazes of the dance or refrain at times altogether from forward or backward or transverse motion of every kind, Mahadeva dwells there. That delightful spot on the mountains, we have heard, is the favourite abode of the great Deity. It is said that that great god as also his associates are always present there. It was there that the goddess Uma practised the severest austerities for the sake of (obtaining for her lord) the three-eyed Deity. Hence, it is said, that spot is much liked by both Mahadeva and Uma. In days of yore there, on the heights of the Mahaparswa, which are situate to the north of the mountains sacred to Mahadeva, the sessions, and the last Night, and many deities, and many human beings also (of the foremost order), in their embodied forms, had adored Mahadeva.[190] Thou shalt cross that region also in thy northward journey. Thou will then see a beautiful and charming forest blue of hue and resembling a mass of clouds. There, in that forest, thou wilt behold a beautiful female ascetic looking like Sree herself. Venerable in age and highly blessed, she is in the observance of the Diksha. Beholding her there thou shouldst duly worship her with reverence. Returning to this place after having beheld her, thou wilt take the hand of my daughter in marriage. If thou wanteth to make this agreement, proceed then on thy journey and do what I command thee.' "'"Ashtavakra said, 'So be it. I shall do thy bidding. Verily, I shall proceed to that region which thou speakest of, O thou of righteous soul. On thy side, let thy words, accord with truth.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The illustrious Ashtavakra set out on his journey. He proceeded more and more towards the north and at last reached the Himavat mountains peopled by Siddhas and Charanas.[191] Arrived at the Himavat mountains, that foremost of Brahmanas then came upon the sacred river Vahuda whose waters produce great merit. He bathed in one of the delightful Tirthas of that river, which was free from mud, and gratified the deities with oblations of water. His ablutions being over, he spread a quantity of Kusa grass and laid himself down upon it for resting awhile at his ease.[192] Passing the night in this way, the Brahmana rose with the day. He once more performed his ablutions in the sacred waters of the Vahuda and then ignited his homa fire and worshipped it with the aid of many foremost of Vedic mantras.[193] He then worshipped with due rites both Rudra and his spouse Uma, and rested for some more time by the side of that lake in the course of the Vahuda whose shores he had reached. Refreshed by such rest, he set out from that region and then proceeded towards Kailasa. He then beheld a gate of gold that seemed to blaze with beauty. He saw also the Mandakini and the Nalini of the high-souled Kuvera, the Lord of Treasures.[194] Beholding the Rishi arrived there, all the Rakshasas having Manibhadra for their head, who were engaged in protecting that lake abounding with beautiful lotuses, came out in a body for welcoming and honouring the illustrious traveller. The Rishi worshipped in return those Rakshasas of terrible prowess and asked them to report, without delay, his arrival unto the Lord of Treasures. Requested by him to do this, those Rakshasas, O king, said unto him,--'King Vaisravana, without waiting for the news from us, is coming of his own accord to thy presence. The illustrious Lord of Treasures is well acquainted with the object of this thy journey. Behold him,--that blessed Master,--who blazes with his own energy.' Then king Vaisravana, approaching the faultless Ashtavakra, duly enquired about his welfare. The usual enquiries of politeness being over, the Lord of Treasures then addressed the regenerate Rishi, saying,--'Welcome art thou here. Do tell me what it is thou seekest at my hands. Inform me of it. I shall, O regenerate one, accomplish whatever thou mayst bid me to accomplish. Do thou enter my abode as pleases thee, O foremost of Brahmanas. Duly entertained by me, and after thy business is accomplished, thou mayst go without any obstacles being placed in thy way.'--Having said these words, Kuvera took the hand of that foremost of Brahmanas and led him into his palace. He offered him his own seat as also water to wash his feet and the Arghya made of the usual ingredients. After the two had taken their seats, the Yakshas of Kuvera headed by Manibhadra, and many Gandharvas and Kinnaras, also sat down before them. After all of them had taken their seats, the Lord of Treasures said these words,--'Understanding what thy pleasure is, the diverse tribes of Apsaras will commence their dance. It is meet that I should entertain thee with hospitality and that thou shouldst be served with proper ministrations.' Thus addressed, the ascetic Ashtavakra said, in a sweet voice, 'Let the dance proceed.' Then Urvara and Misrakesi, and Rambha and Urvasi, and Alumvusha and Ghritachi, and Chitra and Chitrangada and Ruchi, and Manohara and Sukesi and Sumukhi and Hasini and Prabha, and Vidyuta, and Prasami and Danta and Vidyota and Rati,--these and many other beautiful Apsaras began to dance. The Gandharvas played on diverse kinds of musical instruments. After such excellent music and dance had commenced, the Rishi Ashtavakra of severe penances unconsciously passed a full celestial year there in the abode of king Vaisravana.[195] Then king Vaisravana said unto the Rishi,--'O learned Brahmana, behold, a little more than a year has passed away since thy arrival here. This music and dance, especially known by the name of Gandharva, is a stealer of the heart (and of time). Do thou act as thou wishes or let this go on if that be thy pleasure. Thou art my guest and, therefore, worthy of adoration. This is my house. Givest thou thy commands. We are all bound to thee.' The illustrious Ashtavakra, thus addressed by king Vaisravana, replied unto him, with a pleased heart, saying,--'I have been duly honoured by thee. I desire now, O Lord of Treasures, to go hence. Indeed, I am highly pleased. All this befits thee, O Lord of Treasures. Through thy grace, O illustrious one, and agreeably to the command of the high-souled Rishi Vadanya, I shall now proceed to my journey's end. Let growth and prosperity be thine.'--Having said these words, the illustrious Rishi set out of Kuvera's abode and proceeded northwards. He crossed the Kailasa and the Mandara as also the golden mountains. Beyond those high and great mountains is situated that excellent region where Mahadeva, dressed as an humble ascetic, has taken up his residence. He circumambulated the spot, with concentrated mind, bending his head in reverence the while. Descending then on the Earth, he considered himself sanctified for having obtained a sight of that holy spot which is the abode of Mahadeva. Having circumambulated that mountain thrice, the Rishi, with face turned towards the north, proceeded with a joyous heart. He then beheld another forest that was very delightful in aspect. It was adorned with the fruits and roots of every season, and it resounded with the music of winged warblers numbering by thousands. There were many delightful groves throughout the forest. The illustrious Rishi then beheld a charming hermitage. The Rishi saw also many golden hills decked with gems and possessed of diverse forms. In the begemmed soil he saw many lakes and tanks also. And he saw diverse other objects that were exceedingly delightful. Beholding these things, the mind of that Rishi of cleansed soul became filled with joy. He then saw a beautiful mansion made of gold and adorned with gems of many kinds. Of wonderful structure, that mansion surpassed the palace of Kuvera himself in every respect. Around it there were many hills and mounts of jewels and gems. Many beautiful cars and many heaps of diverse kinds of jewels also were visible in that place. The Rishi beheld there the river Mandakini whose waters were strewn with many Mandara flowers. Many gems also were seen there that were self-luminous, and the soil all around was decked with diamonds of diverse species. The palatial mansion which the Rishi saw contained many chambers whose arches were embellished with various kinds of stones. Those chambers were adorned also with nets of pearls interspersed with jewels and gems of different species. Diverse kinds of beautiful objects capable of stealing the heart and the eye, surrounded that palace. That delightful retreat was inhabited by numerous Rishis. Beholding these beautiful sights all around, the Rishi began to think where he would take shelter. Proceeding then to the gate of the mansion, he uttered these words:--'Let those that live here know that a guest has come (desirous of shelter).' Hearing the voice of the Rishi, a number of maidens came out together from that palace. They were seven in number, O King, of different styles of beauty, all of them were exceedingly charming. Every one of those maidens upon whom the Rishi cast his eyes, stole his heart. The sage could not, with even his best efforts, control his mind. Indeed, at the sight of those maidens of very superior beauty, his heart lost all its tranquillity. Seeing himself yielding to such influences, the Rishi made a vigorous effort and possessed as he was of great wisdom he at last succeeded in controlling himself. Those damsels then addressed the Rishi, saying,--'Let the illustrious one enter.' Filled with curiosity in respect of those exceedingly beautiful damsels as also of that palatial mansion, the regenerate Rishi entered as he was bidden. Entering the mansion he beheld an old lady, with indications of decrepitude, attired in white robes and adorned with every kind of ornament. The Rishi blessed her, saying,--'Good be to you.'--The old lady returned his good wishes in proper form. Rising up, she offered a seat to the Rishi. Having taken his seat, Ashtavakra said,--'Let all the damsels go to their respective quarters. Only let one stay here. Let that one remain here who is possessed of wisdom and who has tranquillity of heart. Indeed, let all the others go away at their will.'--Thus addressed, all those damsels circumambulated the Rishi and then left the chamber. Only that aged lady remained there. The day quickly passed and night came. The Rishi seated on a splendid bed, addressed the old lady, saying,--'O blessed lady, the night is deepening. Do thou address thyself to sleep.' Their conversation being thus put a stop to by the Rishi, the old lady laid herself down on an excellent bed of great splendour. Soon after, she rose from her bed and pretending to tremble with cold, she left it for going to the bed of the Rishi. The illustrious Ashtavakra welcomed her with courtesy. The lady however, stretching her arms, tenderly embraced the Rishi, O foremost of men. Beholding the Rishi quite unmoved and as inanimate as a piece of wood, she became very sorry and began to converse with him. 'There is no pleasure, save that which waits upon Kama (desire), which women can derive from a person of the other sex. I am now under the influence of desire. I seek thee for that reason. Do thou seek me in return. Be cheerful, O learned Rishi, and unite thyself with me. Do thou embrace me, O learned one, for I desire thee greatly. O thou of righteous soul, even this union with me is the excellent and desirable reward of those severe penances which thou hast undergone. At the first sight I have become disposed to seek thee. Do thou also seek me. All this wealth, and everything else of value that thou seest here are mine. Do thou verily become the lord of all this along with my person and heart. I shall gratify every wish of thine. Do thou sport with me, therefore, in these delightful forests, O Brahmana, that are capable of granting every wish. I shall yield thee complete obedience in everything, and thou shall sport with me according to thy pleasure. All objects of desire that are human or that appertain to heaven shall be enjoyed by us. There is no pleasure more agreeable to women (than that which is derivable from the companionship of a person of the other sex). Verily, congress with a person of the opposite sex is the most delicious fruit of joy that we can reap. When urged by the god of desire, women become very capricious. At such times they do not feel any pain, even if they walk over a desert of burning sand.' "'"Ashtavakra said, 'O blessed lady, I never approach one that is another's spouse. One's congress with another man's wife is condemned by persons conversant with the scriptures on morality. I am an utter stranger to enjoyments of every kind. O blessed lady, know that I have become desirous of wedlock for obtaining offspring. I swear by truth itself. Through the aid of offspring righteously obtained, I shall proceed to those regions of felicity which cannot be attained without such aid. O good lady, know what is consistent with morality, and knowing it, desist from thy efforts.' "'"The lady said, 'The very deities of wind and fire and water, or the other celestials, O regenerate one, are not so agreeable to women as the deity of desire. Verily, women are exceedingly fond of sexual congress. Among a thousand women, or, perhaps, among hundreds of thousands, sometimes only one may be found that is devoted to her husband. When under the influence of desire, they care not for family or father or mother or brother or husband or sons or husband's brother (but pursue the way that desire points out). Verily, in pursuit of what they consider happiness, they destroy the family (to which they belong by birth or marriage) even as many queenly rivers eat away the banks that contain them. The Creator himself had said this, quickly marking the faults of women.'"[196] "'Bhishma continued, "The Rishi, bent upon finding out the faults of women, then addressed that lady, saying,--'Cease to speak to me in this strain. Yearning springs from liking. Tell me what (else) I am to do.'[197]--That lady then said in return,--'O illustrious one, thou shalt see according to time and place (as do whether I have anything agreeable in me). Do thou only live here (for some time), O highly blessed one, and I shall regard myself amply rewarded.'--Thus addressed by her, the regenerate Rishi, O Yudhishthira, expressed his resolution to comply with her request, saying,--'Verily, I shall dwell with thee in this place as long as I can venture to do so.'--The Rishi then, beholding that lady afflicted with decrepitude, began to reflect earnestly on the matter. He seemed to be even tortured by his thoughts. The eyes of that foremost of Brahmanas failed to derive any delight from those parts of that lady's person whereupon they were cast. On the other hand, his glances seemed to be dispelled by the ugliness of those particular limbs.--'This lady is certainly the goddess of this palace. Has she been made ugly through some curse? It is not proper that I should hastily ascertain the cause of this.'--Reflecting upon this in the secrecy of his heart, and curious to know the reason, the Rishi passed the rest of that day in an anxious state. The lady then addressed him, saying,--'O illustrious one, behold the aspect of the Sun reddened by the evening clouds. What service shall I do unto thee?'--The Rishi addressed her, saying,--.'Fetch water for my ablutions. Having bathed, I shall say my evening prayers, restraining my tongue and the senses.'"'" SECTION XX "'Bhishma said, "Thus commanded, the lady said,--'Be it so.' She then brought oil (for rubbing the Rishi's body therewith) and a piece of cloth for his wear during the ablutions. Permitted by the ascetic, she rubbed every part of his body with the fragrant oil she had brought for him. Gently was the Rishi rubbed, and when the process of rubbing was over, he proceeded to the room set apart for the performance of ablutions. There he sat upon a new and excellent seat of great splendour.[198] After the Rishi had taken his seat upon it, the old lady began to wash his person with her own soft hands whose touch was exceedingly agreeable. One after another in due order, the lady rendered the most agreeable services to the Rishi in the matter of his ablutions. Between the lukewarm water with which he was washed, and the soft hands that were employed in washing him, the Rishi of rigid vows failed to understand that the whole night had passed away in the process. Rising from the bath the Rishi became highly surprised. He saw the Sun risen above the horizon on the East. He was amazed at this and asked himself,--'Was it really so or was it an error of the understanding?'--The Rishi then duly worshipped the god of a thousand rays. This done, he asked the lady as to what he should do. The old lady prepared some food for the Rishi that was as delicious to the taste as Amrita itself. In consequence of the delicious character of that food the Rishi could not take much. In taking that little, however, the day passed away and evening came. The old lady then asked the Rishi to go to bed and sleep. An excellent bed was assigned to the Rishi and another was occupied by herself. The Rishi and the old lady occupied different beds at first but when it was midnight, the lady left her own bed for coming to that of the Rishi. "'"Ashtavakra said, 'O blessed lady, my mind turns away from sexual congress with one who is the spouse of another. Leave my bed, O good lady. Blessed be thou, do thou desist from this of thy own accord.'"[199] "'Bhishma continued, "Thus dissuaded by that Brahmana with the aid of his self-restraint, the lady answered him, saying,--'I am my own mistress. In accepting me thou wilt incur no sin.' "'"Ashtavakra said, 'Women can never be their own mistresses. This is the opinion of the Creator himself, viz., that a woman never deserves to be independent.' "'"The lady said, 'O learned Brahmana, I am tortured by desire. Mark my devotion to thee. Thou incurrest sin by refusing to accost me lovingly.' "'"Ashtavakra said, 'Diverse faults, drag away the man that acts as he likes. As regards myself, I am able to control my inclinations by self-restraint. O good lady, do thou return to thy own bed.' "'"The lady said, 'I bow to thee, bending my head. It behoves thee to show me thy grace. O sinless one, I prostrate myself before thee, do thou become my refuge. If indeed, thou seest such sin in congress with one that is not thy spouse, I yield myself unto thee. Do thou, O regenerate one, accept my hand in marriage. Thou wilt incur no sin. I tell thee truly. Know that I am my own mistress. If there by any sin in this, let it be mine alone. My heart is devoted to thee. I am my own mistress. Do thou accept me.' "'"Ashtavakra said, 'How is it, O good lady, that thou art thy own mistress? Tell me the reason of this. There is not a single woman in the three worlds that deserves to be regarded as the mistress of her own self. The father protects her while she is a maiden. The husband protects her while she is in youth. Sons protect her when she is aged. Women can never be independent as long as they live!' "'"The lady said, 'I have since my maidenhood, adopted the vow of Brahmacharyya. Do not doubt it. I am still a maid. Do thou make me thy wife. O Brahmana, do not kill this devotion of mine to thee.' "'"Ashtavakra said, 'As thou art inclined to me, so I am inclined to thee. There is this question, however, that should be settled. Is it true that by yielding to my inclinations I shall not be regarded as acting in opposition to what the Rishi (Vadanya) wishes? This is very wonderful. Will this lead to what is beneficial? Here is a maiden adorned with excellent ornaments and robes. She is exceedingly beautiful. Why did decrepitude cover her beauty so long? At present she looks like a beautiful maiden. There is no knowing what form she may take hereafter.[200] I shall never swerve from that restraint which I have over desire and the other passions or from contentment with what I have already got. Such swerving does not seem to be good. I shall keep myself united with truth!'"'"[201] SECTION XXI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me why had that lady no fear of Ashtavakra's curse although Ashtavakra was endued with great energy? How also did Ashtavakra succeed in coming back from that place?" "'Bhishma said, "Ashtavakra asked her, saying,--'How dost thou succeed in altering thy form so? Thou shouldst not say anything that is untrue. I wish to know this. Speakest thou truly before a Brahmana.' "'"The lady said, 'O best of Brahmanas, wherever thou mayst reside in heaven or on Earth, this desire of union between the sexes is to be observed. O thou of infallible prowess, listen, with concentrated attention, to this all. This trial was devised by me, O sinless one, for testing thee aright. O thou of infallible prowess, thou hast subjugated all the worlds for not foregoing your previous resolution. Know that I am the embodiment of the Northern point of the compass. Thou hast seen the lightness of the female character. Even women that are aged are tortured by the desire of sexual union. The Grandsire himself and all the deities with Indra have been pleased with thee. The object for which thy illustrious self has come here (is known to me). O foremost of regenerate persons, thou hast been despatched higher by the Rishi Vadanya--the father of thy bride--in order that I may instruct thee. Agreeably to the wishes of that Rishi I have already instructed thee. Thou wilt return home in safety. Thy journey back will not be toilsome. Thou wilt obtain for wife any girl thou hast chosen. She will bear thee a son. Through desire I had solicited thee, thou madest me the very best answer. The desire for sexual union is incapable of being transcended in the three worlds. Go back to thy quarters, having achieved such merit. What else is there that thou wishest to hear from me? I shall discourse on it, O Ashtavakra, in accordance with the truth. I was gratified by the Rishi Vadanya in the first instance for thy sake, O regenerate ascetic. For the sake of honouring him, I have said all this to thee.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of hers, the regenerate Ashtavakra joined his hands in a reverential attitude. He then solicited the lady for her permission to go back. Obtaining the permission he came back to his own asylum. Resting himself for some time at home and obtaining the permission of his kinsmen and friends, he then in a proper way, proceeded, O delighter of the Kurus, to the Brahmana Vadanya. Welcomed with the usual enquiries by Vadanya, the Rishi Ashtavakra, with a well-pleased heart, narrated all that he had seen (in course of his sojourn to the North). He said,--'Commanded by thee I proceeded to the mountains of Gandhamadana. In the regions lying to the north of these mountains I beheld a very superior goddess. I was received by her with courtesy. She named you in my hearing and also instructed me in various matters. Having listened to her I have come back, O lord.' Unto him that said so, the learned Vadanya said,--'Take my daughter's hand according to due rites and under the proper constellations. Thou art the fittest bridegroom I can select for the girl.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Ashtavakra said,--'So be it' and took the hand of the girl. Indeed, the highly righteous Rishi, having espoused the girl, became filled with joy. Having taken as his wife that beautiful damsel, the Rishi continued to dwell in his own asylum, freed from (mental) fever of every kind."'" SECTION XXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Whom do the eternal Brahmanas strictly observing religious rites call a proper object of gifts? Is a Brahmana that bears the symbols of the order of life he follows to be regarded as such or one who does not bear such indications is to be so regarded?"[202] "'Bhishma said, "O monarch, it has been said that gifts should be made unto a Brahmana that adheres to the duties of his own order, whether, he bears the indications of a Brahmachari or not, for both are faultless, viz., he that bears such indications and he that is divested of them." "'Yudhishthira said, "What fault does an uncleansed person incur, if he makes gifts of sacrificial butter or food with great devotion unto persons of the regenerate order?" "'Bhishma said, "Even one that is most destitute of self-restraint becomes, without doubt, cleansed by devotion. Such a man, O thou of great splendour, becomes cleansed in respect of every act (and not with reference to gift alone)." "'Yudhishthira said, "It has been said that a Brahmana that is sought to be employed in an act having reference to the deities, should never be examined. The learned, however, say that with respect to such acts as have reference to the Pitris, the Brahmana that is sought to be employed, should be examined (in the matter of both his conduct and competence)." "'Bhishma said, "As regards acts that have reference to the deities, these fructify not in consequence of the Brahmana that is employed in doing the rites but through the grace of the deities themselves. Without doubt, those persons that perform sacrifice obtain the merit attached to those acts, through the grace of the deities.[203] The Brahmanas, O chief of the Bharatas, are always devoted of Brahman. The Rishi Markandeya, one of the greatest Rishis endued with intelligence in all the worlds, said this in days of yore." "'Yudhishthira said, "Why, O grandsire, are there five viz., he that is a stranger, he that is endued with learning (connected with the duties of his order), he that is connected by marriage, he that is endued with penances, and he that adheres to the performance of sacrifices, regarded as proper persons?"[204] "'Bhishma said, "The first three, viz., strangers, relatives, and ascetics, when possessed of these attributes, viz., purity of birth, devotion to religious acts, learning, compassion, modesty, sincerity, and truthfulness, are regarded as proper persons. The other two, viz., men of learning and those devoted to sacrifices, when endued with five of these attributes, viz., purity of birth, compassion, modesty, sincerity, truthfulness, are also regarded as proper persons. Listen now to me, O son of Pritha, as I recite to thee the opinions of these four persons of mighty energy, viz., the goddess Earth, the Rishi Kasyapa, Agni (the deity of fire) and the ascetic Markandeya. "'"The Earth said, 'As a clod of mud, when thrown into the great ocean quickly dissolves away, even so every kind of sin disappears in the three high attributes viz., officiation at sacrifices, teaching and receiving of gifts.'[205] "'"Kasyapa said, 'The Vedas with their six branches, the Sankhya philosophy, the Puranas, and high birth, these fail to rescue a regenerate person if he falls away from good conduct.'[206] "'"Agni said, 'That Brahmana who, engaged in study and regarding himself learned, seeks with the aid of his learning to destroy the reputation of others, falls away from righteousness, and comes to be regarded as dissociated from truth. Verily regions of felicity herein-after are never attained to by such a person of destructive genius.' "'"Markandeya said, 'If a thousand Horse-sacrifices and Truth were weighed in the balance, I do not know whether the former would weigh even half as heavy as the latter.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having spoken these words, those four persons, each of whom is endued with immeasurable energy, viz., the goddess Earth, Kasyapa, Agni, and Bhrigu's son armed with weapons, quickly went away." "'Yudhishthira said, "If Brahmanas observant of the vow of Brahmacharyya in this world solicit the offerings one makes (unto one's deceased ancestors in Sraddhas) I ask, can the Sraddha be regarded well-performed, if the performer actually makes over those offerings unto such Brahmanas?" "'Bhishma said, "If, having practised the vow of Brahmacharyya for the prescribed period (of twelve years) and acquired proficiency in the Vedas and their branches, a Brahmana himself solicits the offering made in Sraddhas and eats the same, he is regarded to fall away from his vow. The Sraddha, however, is not regarded as stained in any way." "'Yudhishthira said, "The wise have said that duty of righteousness has many ends and numerous doors. Tell me, O grandsire, what however are the settled conclusions in this matter."[207] "'Bhishma said, "Abstention from injury to others, truthfulness, the absence of wrath (forgiveness), compassion, self-restraint, and sincerity or candour, O monarch, are the indications of Righteousness. There are persons who wander over the earth, praising righteousness but without practising what they preach and engaged all the while in sin, O king. He who gives unto such persons gold or gems or steeds, has to sink in hell and to subsist there for ten years, eating the while the faeces of such persons as live upon the flesh of dead kine and buffalos, of men called Pukkasas, of others that live in the outskirts of cities and villages, and of men that publish, under the influence of wrath and folly, the acts and the omissions of others.[208] Those foolish men who do give unto a Brahmana observant of the vow of Brahmacharyya the offerings made in Sraddhas (unto one's deceased ancestors), have to go, O monarch into regions of great misery." "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what is superior to Brahmacharyya? What is the highest indication of virtue? What is the highest kind of purity?" "'Bhishma said,--"I tell thee, O son, that abstention from honey and meat is even superior to Brahmacharyya. Righteousness consists in keeping within boundaries or in self-restraint, the best indication of Righteousness is Renunciation (which is also the highest kind of purity)."[209] "'Yudhishthira said, "In what time should one practise Righteousness? In what time should wealth be sought? In what time should pleasure be enjoyed? O grandsire, do tell me this." "'Bhishma said,--"One should earn wealth in the first part of one's life. Then should one earn Righteousness, and then enjoy pleasure. One should not, however, attach oneself to any of these. One should regard the Brahmanas, worship one's preceptor and seniors, show compassion for all creatures, be of mild disposition and agreeable speech. To utter falsehood in a court of justice, to behave deceitfully towards the king, to act falsely towards preceptors and seniors, are regarded as equivalent (in heinousness) to Brahmanicide. One should never do an act of violence to the king's person. Nor should one ever strike a cow. Both these offences are equivalent to the sin of foeticide. One should never abandon one's (homa) fire. One should also never cast off one's study of the Vedas. One should never assail a Brahmana by words or acts. All these offences are equivalent to Brahmanicide." "'Yudhishthira said,--"What kind of Brahmanas should be regarded as good? By making presents unto (what kind of) Brahmanas one may acquire great merit? What kind of Brahmanas are they whom one should feed? Tell me all this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "Those Brahmanas that are freed from wrath, that are devoted to acts of righteousness, that are firm in Truth, and that practise self-restraint are regarded as good. By making gifts unto them one acquires great merit. One wins great merit by making presents unto such Brahmanas as are free from pride, capable of bearing everything, firm in the pursuit of their objects, endued with mastery over their senses, devoted to the good of all creatures, and disposed to be friendly towards all. One earns great merit by making gifts unto such Brahmanas as are free from cupidity, as are pure of heart and conduct, possessed of learning and modesty, truthful in speech and observant of their own duties as laid down in the scriptures. The Rishis have declared that Brahmana to be a deserving object of gifts who studies the four Vedas with all their branches and is devoted to the six well-known duties (laid down in the scriptures). One acquires great merit by making gifts unto Brahmanas possessed of such qualifications. The man who makes gifts unto a deserving Brahmana multiplies his merit a thousand-fold. A single righteous Brahmana possessed of wisdom and Vedic lore, observant of the duties laid down in the scriptures, distinguished by purity of behaviour, is competent to rescue a whole race.[210] One should make gifts of kine and horses and wealth and food and other kinds of articles unto a Brahmana that is possessed of such qualifications. By making such gifts unto such persons one earns great happiness in the next world. As I have already told thee even one such Brahmana is fully competent to rescue the entire race to which the giver belongs. What need I say, therefore, O dear son, of the merit of making gifts unto many Brahmanas of such qualifications? In making gifts, therefore one should always select the object to whom the gifts are to be made. Hearing of a Brahmana possessed of proper qualifications and regarded with respect by all good people, one should invite him even if he resides at a distance and welcome him when he arrives and one should worship him by all means in his power."'" SECTION XXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire thee, O grandsire, to tell me what the ordinances are that have been laid down by the acts touching the deities and the (deceased) ancestors on occasions of Sraddhas." "'Bhishma said, "Having purified oneself (by baths and other purificatory acts) and then going through the well-known auspicious rites, one should carefully do all acts relating to the deities in the forenoon, and all acts relating to the Pitris in the afternoon. What is given to men should be given in the midday with affection and regard. That gift which is made untimely is appropriated by Rakshasas.[211] Gifts of articles that have been leapt over by any one, or been licked or sucked, that are not given peacefully, that have been seen by women that are impure in consequence of their season having come, do not produce any merit. Such gifts are regarded as the portion belonging to the Rakshasas. Gifts of articles that have been proclaimed before many people or from which a portion has been eaten by a Sudra, or that have been seen or licked by a dog, form portions of Rakshasas. Food which is mixed with hair or in which there are worms, or which has been stained with spittle or saliva or which has been gazed at by a dog or into which tear-drops have fallen or which has been trodden upon should be known as forming the portion of Rakshasas. Food that has been eaten by a person incompetent to utter the syllable Om, or that has been eaten by a person bearing arms, O Bharata, or that has been eaten by a wicked person should be known to form the portion of Rakshasas.[212] The food that is eaten by a person from which a portion has already been eaten by another, or which is eaten without a part thereof having been offered to deities and guests and children, is appropriated by Rakshasas. Such stained food, if offered to the deities and Pitris is never accepted by them but is appropriated by Rakshasas. The food offered by the three regenerate classes in Sraddhas, in which Mantras are either not uttered or uttered incorrectly and in which the ordinances laid down in the scriptures are not complied with, if distributed to guests and other people, is appropriated by Rakshasas. The food that is distributed to guests without having been previously dedicated to the deities or the Pitris with the aid of libation on the sacred fire, which has been stained in consequence of a portion thereof having been eaten by a person that is wicked or of irreligious behaviour, should be known to form the portion of Rakshasas. "'"I have told thee what the portions are of the Rakshasas. Listen now to me as I lay down the rules for ascertaining who the Brahmana is that is deserving of gift.[213] All Brahmanas that have been outcasted (on account of the commission of heinous sins), as also Brahmanas that are idiots and out of mind, do not deserve to be invited to Sraddhas in which offerings are made to either the deities or the Pitris. That Brahmana who is afflicted with leucoderma, or he that is destitute of virility, or he that has got leprosy, or he that has got phthisis or he that is labouring under epilepsy (with delusions of the sensorium), or he that is blind, should not, O king, be invited.[214] Those Brahmanas that practise the calling of physicians, those that receive regular pay for worshipping the images of deities established by the rich, or live upon the service of the deities, those that are observant of vows from pride or other false motives, and those that sell Soma, do not deserve to be invited. Those Brahmanas that are, by profession, vocalists, or dancers or players or instrumental musicians, or reciters of sacred books, or warriors and athletes, do not, O king, deserve to be invited. Those Brahmanas who pour libations on the sacred fire for Sudras, or who are preceptors of Sudras, or who are servants of Sudra masters, do not deserve to be invited. That Brahmana who is paid for his services as preceptor, or who attends as pupil upon the lectures of some preceptor because of some allowance that is granted to him, does not deserve to be invited, for both of them are regarded as sellers of Vedic lore. That Brahmana who has been once induced to accept the gift of food in a Sraddha at the very outset, as also he who has married a Sudra wife, even if possessed of every kind of knowledge do not deserve to be invited.[215] Those Brahmanas that are destitute of their domestic fire, and they that attend upon corpses, they that are thieves, and they that have otherwise fallen away do not, O king, deserve to be invited.[216] Those Brahmanas whose antecedents are not known or are vile, and they that are Putrika-putras, do not, O king, deserve to be invited on occasions of Sraddhas.[217] That Brahmana who gives loans of money, or he who subsists upon the interest of the loans given by him, or he who lives by sale of living creatures, does not deserve, O king, to be invited. Persons who have been subjugated by their wives, or they who live by becoming the paramours of unchaste women, or they who abstain from their morning and evening prayers do not deserve, O king, to be invited to Sraddhas. "'"Listen now to me as I mention who the Brahmana is that has been ordained for acts done in honour of the deities and the Pitris. Indeed, I shall tell thee what those merits are in consequence of which one may become a giver or a recipient of gifts in Sraddhas (notwithstanding the faults mentioned above).[218] Those Brahmanas that are observant of the rites and ceremonies laid down in the scriptures, or they that are possessed of merit, or they that are conversant with the Gayatri, or they that are observant of the ordinary duties of Brahmanas, even if they happen to betake themselves to agriculture for a living, are capable, O king, of being invited to Sraddhas. If a Brahmana happens to be wellborn, he deserves to be invited to Sraddhas notwithstanding his profession of arms for fighting the battle of others.[219] That Brahmana, however, O son, who happens to betake himself to trade for a living should be discarded (even if possessed of merit). The Brahmana who pours libations every day on the sacred fire, or who resides in a fixed habitation, who is not a thief and who does the duties of hospitality to guests arrived at his house, deserves, O king, to be invited to Sraddhas. The Brahmana, O chief of Bharata's race, who recites the Savitri morning, noon, and night, or who subsists upon eleemosynary charity, who is observant of the rites and ceremonies laid down in the scriptures for persons of his order, deserves, O king, to be invited to Sraddhas.[220] That Brahmana who having earned wealth in the morning becomes poor in the afternoon, or who poor in the morning becomes wealthy in the evening or who is destitute of malice, or is stained by a minor fault, deserves, O king, to be invited to Sraddhas. That Brahmana who is destitute of pride or sin, who is not given to dry disputation, or who subsists upon alms obtained in his rounds of mendicancy from house to house deserves, O king, to be invited to sacrifices. One who is not observant of vows, or who is addicted to falsehood (in both speech and conduct), who is a thief, or who subsists by the sale of living creatures or by trade in general, becomes worthy of invitation to Sraddhas, O king, if he happens to offer all to the deities first and subsequently drink Soma. That man who having acquired wealth by foul or cruel means subsequently spends it in adoring the deities and discharging the duties of hospitality, becomes worthy, O king, of being invited to Sraddhas. The wealth that one has acquired by the sale of Vedic lore, or which has been earned by a woman, or which has been gained by meanness (such as giving false evidence in a court of law), should never be given to Brahmanas or spent in making offerings to the Pitris. That Brahmana, O chief of Bharata's race, who upon the completion of a Sraddha that is performed with his aid, refuses to utter the words 'astu swadha,' incurs the sin of swearing falsely in a suit for land.[221] The time for performing Sraddha, O Yudhishthira, is that when one obtains a good Brahmana and curds and ghee and the sacred day of the new moon, and the meat of wild animals such as deer and others.[222] Upon the completion of a Sraddha performed by a Brahmana the word Swadha should be uttered. If performed by a Kshatriya the words that should be uttered are--Let thy Pitris be gratified.--Upon the completion of a Sraddha performed by a Vaisya, O Bharata, the words that should be uttered are--Let everything become inexhaustible.--Similarly, upon the conclusion of a Sraddha performed by a Sudra, the word that should be uttered is Swasti,--In respect of a Brahmana, the declaration regarding Punyaham should be accompanied with the utterance of the syllable Om. In the case of a Kshatriya, such declaration should be without the utterance of syllable Om. In the rites performed by a Vaisya, the words that should be uttered, instead of being the syllable Om, are,--Let the deities be gratified.[223]--Listen now to me as I tell thee the rites that should be performed, one after another, conformably to the ordinances, (in respect of all the orders). All the rites that go by the name of Jatakarma, O Bharata, are indispensable in the case of all the three orders (that are regenerate). All these rites, O Yudhishthira, in the case of both Brahmanas and Kshatriyas as also in that of Vaisyas are to be performed with the aid of mantras. The girdle of a Brahmana should be made of Munja grass. That for one belonging to the royal order should be a bowstring. The Vaisya's girdle should be made of the Valwaji grass. Even this is what has been laid down in the scriptures. Listen now to me as I expound to thee what constitutes the merits and faults of both givers and recipients of gifts. A Brahmana becomes guilty of a dereliction of duty by uttering a falsehood. Such an act on his part is sinful. A Kshatriya incurs four times and a Vaisya eight times the sin that a Brahmana incurs by uttering a falsehood. A Brahmana should not eat elsewhere, having been previously invited by a Brahmana. By eating at the house of the person whose invitation has been posterior in point of time, he becomes inferior and even incurs the sin that attaches to the slaughter of an animal on occasions other than those of sacrifices.[224] So also, if he eats elsewhere after having been invited by a person of the royal order or a Vaisya, he falls away from his position and incurs half the sin that attaches to the slaughter of an animal on occasions other than those of sacrifices. That Brahmana, O king, who eats on occasions of such rites as are performed in honour of the deities or the Pitris by Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas, without having performed his ablutions, incurs the sin of uttering an untruth for a cow. That Brahmana, O king, who eats on occasions of similar rites performed by persons belonging to the three higher orders, at a time when he is impure in consequence either of a birth or a death among his cognates, through temptation, knowing well that he is impure incurs the same sin.[225] He who lives upon wealth obtained under false pretences like that of sojourns to sacred places or who solicits the giver for wealth pretending that he would spend it in religious acts, incurs, O monarch, the sin of uttering a falsehood.[226] That person, belonging to any of the three higher orders, O Yudhishthira, who at Sraddhas and on other occasions distributes food with the aid of Mantras, unto such Brahmanas as do not study the Vedas and as are not observant of vows, or as have not purified their conduct, certainly incurs sin." "'Yudhishthira said,--"I desire, O grandsire, to know by giving unto whom the things dedicated to the deities and the Pitris, one may earn the amplest rewards." "'Bhishma said,--"Do thou, Yudhishthira, feed those Brahmanas whose spouses reverently wait for the remnants of the dishes of their husbands like tillers of the soil waiting in reverence for timely showers of rain. One earns great merit by making gifts unto those Brahmanas that are always observant of pure conduct, O king, that are emaciated through abstention from all luxuries and even full meals, that are devoted to the observances of such vows as lead to the emaciation of the body, and that approach givers with the desire of obtaining gifts. By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as regard conduct in this light of food, as regard conduct in the light of spouses and children, as regard conduct in the light of strength, as regard conduct in the light of their refuge for crossing this world and attaining to felicity in the next, and as solicit wealth only when wealth is absolutely needed, one earns great merit. By making gifts unto those persons, O Yudhishthira, that having lost everything through thieves or oppressors, approach the giver, one acquires great merit.[227] By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as solicit food from the hands of even a poor person of their order who has just got something from others, one earns great merit. By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as have lost their all in times of universal distress and as have been deprived of their spouses on such occasions, and as come to givers with solicitations for alms, one acquires great merit. By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as are observant of vows, and as place themselves voluntarily under painful rules and regulations, as are respectful in their conduct to the declaration laid down in the Vedas, and as come to solicit wealth for spending it upon the rites necessary to complete their vows and other observances, one earns great merit. By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as live at a great distance from the practices that are observed by the sinful and the wicked, as are destitute of strength for want of adequate support, and as are very poor in earthly possessions, one earns great merit. By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as have been robbed of all their possessions by powerful men but as are perfectly innocent, and as desire to fill their stomachs any how without, that is, any scruples respecting the quality of the food they take, one earns great merit. By making gifts unto such Brahmanas as beg on behalf of others that are observant of penances and devoted to them and as are satisfied with even small gifts, one earns great merit. Thou hast now, O bull of Bharata's race, heard what the declarations are of the scriptures in respect of the acquisition of great merit by the making of gifts. Listen now to me as I expound what those acts are that lead to hell or heaven. They, O Yudhishthira, that speak an untruth on occasions other than those when such untruth is needed for serving the purpose of the preceptor or for giving the assurance of safety to a person in fear of his life, sink into hell[228]. They who ravish other people's spouses, or have sexual congress with them, or assist at such acts of delinquency, sink in hell. They who rob others of their wealth or destroy the wealth and possessions of other people, or proclaim the faults of other people, sink in hell. They who destroy the containers of such pieces of water as are used by cattle for quenching thirst, as injure such buildings as are used for purposes of public meetings, as break down bridges and causeways, and as pull down houses used for purposes of habitation, have to sink to hell. They who beguile and cheat helpless women, or girls, or aged dames, or such women as have been frightened, have to sink to hell. They who destroy the means of other people's living, they who exterminate the habitations of other people, they who rob others of their spouses, they who sow dissensions among friends, and they who destroy the hopes of other people, sink into hell. They who proclaim the faults of others, they who break down bridges or causeways, they who live by following vocations laid down for other people, and they who are ungrateful to friends for services received, have to sink in hell. They who have no faith in the Vedas and show no reverence for them, they who break the vows made by themselves or oblige others to break them, and they who fall away from their status through sin, sink in hell. They who betake themselves to improper conduct, they who take exorbitant rates of interest, and they who make unduly large profits on sales, have to sink in hell. They who are given to gambling, they who indulge in wicked acts without any scruple, and they who are given to slaughter of living creatures, have to sink in hell. They who cause the dismissal by masters of servants that are hoping for rewards or are expectant of definite need or are in the enjoyment of wages or salaries or are waiting for returns in respect of valuable services already rendered, have to sink in hell. They who themselves eat without offering portions thereof unto their spouse or their sacred fires or their servants or their guests, and they who abstain from performing the rites laid down in the scriptures for honouring the Pitris and deities, have to sink in hell. They who sell the Vedas, they who find fault with the Vedas, and they who reduce the Vedas into writing, have all to sink in hell.[229] They who are out of the pale of the four well-known modes of life, they who betake themselves to practices interdicted by the Srutis and the scriptures, and they who live by betaking themselves to acts that are wicked or sinful or that do not belong to their order of birth, have to sink in hell. They who live by selling hair, they who subsist by selling poisons, and they who live by selling milk, have to sink in hell. They who put obstacles in the path of Brahmanas and kine and maidens, O Yudhishthira, have to sink in hell. They who sell weapons, they who forge weapons, they who make shafts, and they who make bows, have to sink in hell. They who obstruct paths and roads with stones and thorns and holes have to sink in hell. They who abandon and cast off preceptors and servants and loyal followers without any offence, O chief of Bharata's race, have to sink in hell. They who set bullocks to work before the animals attain to sufficient age, they who bore the noses of bullocks and other animals for controlling them the better while employed in work, and they who keep animals always tethered, have to sink in hell. Those kings that do not protect their subjects while forcibly taking from them a sixth share of the produce of their fields, and they who, though able and possessed of resources, abstain from making gifts, have to sink in hell. They who abandon and cast off persons that are endued with forgiveness and self-restraint and wisdom, or those with whom they have associated for many years, when these are no longer of services to them, have to sink in hell. Those men who themselves eat without giving portions of the food to children and aged men and servants, have to sink in hell. "'"All these men enumerated above have to go to hell. Listen now to me, O bull of Bharata's race, as I tell thee who those men are that ascend to heaven. The man who transgresses against a Brahmana by impeding the performances of all such acts in which the deities are adored, becomes afflicted with the loss of all his children and animals. (They who do not transgress against Brahmanas by obstructing their religious acts ascend to heaven). Those men, O Yudhishthira, who follow the duties as laid down in the scriptures for them and practise the virtues of charity and self-restraint and truthfulness, ascend to heaven. Those men who having acquired knowledge by rendering obedient services to their preceptors and observing austere penances, become reluctant to accept gifts, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men through whom other people are relieved and rescued from fear and sin and the impediments that lie in the way of what they wish to accomplish and poverty and the afflictions of disease, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who are endued with a forgiving disposition, who are possessed of patience, who are prompt in performing all righteous acts, and who are of auspicious conduct, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who abstain from honey and meat, who abstain from sexual congress with the spouses of other people, and who abstain from wines and spirituous liquors, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that help in the establishment of retreats for ascetics, who become founders of families, O Bharata, who open up new countries for purposes of habitation, and lay out towns and cities succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who give away cloths and ornaments, as also food and drink, and who help in marrying others, succeed in ascending to heaven.[230] Those men that have abstained from all kinds of injury or harm to all creatures, who are capable of enduring everything, and who have made themselves the refuge of all creatures, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who wait with humility upon their fathers and mothers, who have subjugated their senses, and who are affectionate towards their brothers, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that subjugate their senses notwithstanding the fact of their being rich in worldly goods and strong in might and in the enjoyment of youth, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that are kind towards even those that offend against them, that are mild of disposition, that have an affection for all who are of mild behaviour, and that contribute to the happiness of others by rendering them every kind of service in humility, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that protect thousands of people, that make gifts unto thousands of people, and that rescue thousands of people from distress, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who make gifts of gold and of kine, O chief of Bharata's race, as also those of conveyances and animals, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who make gifts of such articles as are needed in marriages, as also those of serving men and maids, and cloths and robes, succeed in ascending to heaven[231]. Those men who make public pleasure-houses and gardens and wells, resting houses and buildings for public meetings and tanks for enabling cattle and men to quench their thirst, and fields for cultivation, O Bharata, succeed in ascending to heaven.[232] Those men who make gifts of houses and fields and populated villages unto persons that solicit them, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who having themselves manufactured juicy drinks of sweet taste and seeds and paddy or rice, make gifts of them unto others succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who being born in families high or low beget hundreds of children and live long lives practising compassion and keeping wrath under complete subjection, succeed in ascending to heaven. I have thus expounded to thee, O Bharata, what the rites are in honour of the deities and the Pitris which are performed by people for the sake of the other world, what the ordinances are in respect of making gifts, and what the views are of the Rishis of former times in respect of both the articles of gift and the manner of giving them."'" SECTION XXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "O royal son of Bharata's race, it behoveth thee to answer this question of mine truly and in detail. What are those circumstances under which a person may become guilty of Brahmanicide without actually slaying a Brahmana!" "'Bhishma said, "Formerly, O monarch, I had one day requested Vyasa to explain to me this very subject. I shall now narrate to thee what Vyasa told me on that occasion. Do thou listen to it with undivided attention. Repairing to the presence of Vyasa, I addressed him, saying,--'Thou, O great ascetic, art the fourth in descent from Vasishtha. Do thou explain to me this. What are those circumstances under which one becomes guilty of Brahmanicide without actually slaying a Brahmana.'--Thus addressed by me, the son of Parasara's loins, O king, well-skilled in the science of morality, made me the following answer, at once excellent and fraught with certainty. 'Thou shouldst know that man as guilty of Brahmanicide who having of his own will invited a Brahmana of righteous conduct to his house for giving him alms subsequently refuses to give anything to him on the pretence of there being nothing in the house. Thou shouldst, O Bharata, know that man as guilty of Brahmanicide who destroys the means of living of a Brahmana learned in the Vedas and all their branches, and who is freed from attachments to worldly creatures and goods. Thou shouldst, O king, know that man to be guilty of Brahmanicide, who causes obstructions in the way of thirsty kine while employed in quenching that thirst. Thou shouldst take that man as guilty of Brahmanicide who, without studying the Srutis that have flowed from preceptor to pupil for ages and ages together, finds fault with the Srutis or with those scriptures that have been composed by the Rishis. Thou shouldst know that man as guilty of Brahmanicide who does not bestow upon a suitable bride-groom his daughter possessed of beauty and other excellent accomplishments. Thou shouldst know that foolish and sinful person to be guilty of Brahmanicide who inflicts such grief upon Brahmanas as afflict the very core of their hearts. Thou shouldst know that man to be guilty of Brahmanicide who robs the blind, the lame, and idiots of their all. Thou shouldst know that man to be guilty of Brahmanicide who sets fire to the retreats of ascetics or to woods or to a village or a town.'"'" SECTION XXV "'Yudhishthira said, "It has been said that sojourns to sacred waters as fraught with merit; that ablutions in such waters is meritorious; and that listening to the excellence of such waters is also meritorious. I desire to hear thee expatiate on this subject, O grandsire. It behoveth thee, O chief of Bharata's race, to mention to me the sacred waters that exist on this earth. I desire, O thou of great puissance, to hear thee discourse on this topic." "'Bhishma said, "O thou of great splendour, the following enumeration of the sacred waters on the Earth was made by Angiras. Blessed be thou, it behoveth thee to listen to it for thou shalt then earn great merit. Once on a time, Gautama of rigid vows, approaching the great and learned Rishi Angiras endued with tranquillity of soul, while he was dwelling in a forest, questioned him, saying,--'O illustrious one, I have some doubts regarding the merits attaching to sacred waters and shrines. So I desire to hear thee discourse on that topic. Do thou, therefore, O ascetic, discourse to me. What merits are earned by a person in respect of the next world, by bathing in the sacred waters on the Earth, O thou of great wisdom? Do thou expound to me this truly and according to the ordinance.' "'"Angiras said, 'A person by bathing for seven days in succession in the Chandrabhaga or the Vitasta whose waters are always seen to dance in waves, observing a fast the while, is sure to become cleansed of all his sins and endued with the merit of an ascetic.[233] The very many rivers that flowing through Kasmira, fall into the great river called Sindhu (Indus). By bathing in these rivers one is sure to become endued with good character and to ascend to heaven after departing from this world. By bathing in Pushkara, and Prabhasa, and Naimisha, and the ocean, and Devika, and Indramarga, and Swarnavindu, one is sure to ascend to heaven being seated on a celestial car, and filled with transports of joy at the adorations of Apsara. By plunging in the waters of Hiranyavindu with a concentrated mind and reverencing that sacred stream, and bathing next at Kusesaya and Devendra, one becomes cleansed of all one's sins. Repairing to Indratoya in the vicinity of the mountains of Gandhamadana and next to Karatoya in the country called Kuranga, one should observe a fast for three days and then bathe in those sacred waters with a concentrated heart and pure body. By doing this, one is sure to acquire the merit of a Horse-sacrifice. Bathing in Gangadwara and Kusavarta and Vilwaka in the Nita mountains, as also in Kankhala, one is sure to become cleansed of all one's sins and then ascend to heaven. If one becomes a Brahmacharin and subdues one's wrath, devotes oneself to truth and practises compassion towards all creatures, and then bathes in the Jala parda (Lake of Waters), one is sure to acquire the merit of a Horse-sacrifice. That part where Bhagirathi-Ganga flows in a northward direction is known as the union of heaven, earth, and the nether regions. Observing a fast for one month and bathing in that sacred Tirtha which is known to be acceptable to Maheswara, one becomes competent to behold the deities. One who gives oblations of water unto one's Pitris at Saptaganga and Triganga and Indramarga, obtains ambrosia for food, if one has still to undergo rebirth. The man who in a pure state of body and mind attends to his daily Agnihotra and observes a fast for one month and then bathes in Mahasrama, is sure to attain success in one month. By bathing, after a fast of three days and purifying the mind of all evil passions, in the large lake of Bhrigu Kunda, one becomes cleansed of even the sin of Brahmanicide. By bathing in Kanyakupa and performing one's ablutions in Valaka, one acquires great fame among even the deities and shines in glory. Bathing in Devika and the lake known by the name of Sundarika as also in the Tirtha called Aswini, one acquires, in one's next life, great beauty of form. By fasting for a fortnight and bathing in Mahaganga and Krittikangaraka, one becomes cleansed of all one's sins and ascends to heaven. Bathing in Vaimanika and Kinkinika, one acquires the power of repairing everywhere at will and becomes an object of great respect in the celestial region of the Apsaras.[234] If a person, subduing his wrath and observing the vow of Brahmacharyya for three days, bathes in the river Vipasa at the retreat called Kalika, he is sure to succeed in transcending the obligation of rebirth. Bathing in the asylum that is sacred to the Krittakas and offering oblations of water to the Pitris, and then gratifying Mahadeva, one becomes pure in body and mind and ascends to heaven. If one, observing a fast for three days with a purified body and mind, bathes in Mahapura, one becomes freed from the fear of all mobile and immobile animals as also of all animals having two feet. By bathing in the Devadaru forest and offering oblations of water to the Pitris and dwelling there for seven nights with a pure body and mind, one attains to the region of the deities on departing from this world. Bathing in the waterfalls at Sarastamva and Kusastambha and Dronasarmapada, one is sure to attain to the region of the Apsaras where one is waited upon with dutiful services by those superhuman beings. If one, observing a fast, bathes at Chitrakuta and Janasthana and the waters of Mandakini, one is sure to be united with prosperity that is royal.[235] By repairing to the retreat that is known by the name of Samya and residing there for a fortnight and bathing in the sacred water that exists there, one acquires the power of disappearing at will (and enjoy the happiness that has been ordained for the Gandharvas). Repairing to the tirtha known by the name of Kausiki and residing there with a pure heart and abstaining from all food and drink for three days, one acquires the power of dwelling (in one's next life) in the happy region of the Gandharvas. Bathing in the delightful tirtha that goes by the name of Gandhataraka and residing there for one month, abstaining all the while from food and drink, one acquires the power of disappearing at pleasure and, then one and twenty days, of ascending to heaven. He that bathes in the lake known by the name of Matanga is sure to attain to success in one night. He that bathes in Analamva or in eternal Andhaka, or in Naimisha, or the tirtha called Swarga, and offers oblations of water to the Pitris, subduing his senses the while, acquires the merit of a human sacrifice.[236] Bathing in Ganga hrada and the tirtha known by the name of Utpalavana and daily offering oblations of water there for a full month to the Pitris, one acquires the merit of a Horse-sacrifice. Bathing in the confluence of the Ganga and the Yamuna as also at the tirtha in the Kalanjara mountains and offering every day oblations of water to the Pitris for a full month, one acquires the merit that attaches to ten Horse-sacrifices. Bathing in the Shashthi lake one acquires merit much greater than what is attached to the gift of food. Ten thousand tirthas and thirty millions of other tirthas come to Prayaga (the confluence of Ganga and Yamuna), O chief of Bharata's race in the month of Magha. He who bathes in Prayaga, with a restrained soul and observing rigid vows the while, in the month of Magha, becomes cleansed of all his sins, O chief of Bharata's race, and attains to heaven. Bathing in the tirtha that is sacred to the Maruts, as also in that which is situate in the retreat of the Pitris, and also in that which is known by the name of Vaivaswata, one becomes cleansed of all one's sins and becomes as pure and sanctified as a tirtha. Repairing to Brahmasaras as also to the Bhagirathi and bathing there and offering oblations to the Pitris every day for a full month, abstaining from food all the while, one is sure to attain to the region of Soma. Bathing in Utpataka and then in Ashtavakra and offering oblations of water to the Pitris every day for twelve days in succession, abstaining the while from food, one acquires the merits of a Horse-sacrifice. Bathing in Asmaprishtha and Niravinda mountains and Kraunchapadi,--all three in Gaya--one becomes cleansed of the sin of Brahmanicide. A bath in the first place cleanses one of a single Brahmanicide; a bath in the second cleanses one of two offences of that character; and a bath in the third cleanses one of three such offences. Bathing in Kalavinga, one acquires a large quantity of water (for use in the next world). A man, by bathing in the city of Agni, acquires such merit as entitles him to live during his next birth in the city of Agni's daughter. Bathing in Visala in Karavirapura and offering oblations of water unto one's Pitris, and performing one's ablutions in Devahrada too, one becomes identified with Brahma and shines in glory as such. Bathing in Punaravarta-nanda as also Mahananda, a man of restrained senses and universal compassion repairs to the celestial gardens called Nandana of Indra and is waited upon there by Apsaras of diverse tribes. Bathing with concentrated soul in the tirtha that is called after the name of Urvasi and that is situate in the river Lohitya, on the day of full moon of the month of Kartika, one attains to the merits that attach to the sacrifice called Pundarika. Bathing in Ramahrada and offering oblations of water to the Pitris in the river Vipasa (Beas), and observing a fast for twelve days, one becomes cleansed of all sins. Bathing in the tirtha called Maha-hrada with a purified heart and after observing a fast for one month, one is sure to attain to the end which was the sage Jamadagni's. By exposing oneself to heat in the tirtha called Vindhya, a person devoted to truth and endued with compassion for all creatures should then betake himself to austere penances, actuated by humility. By so doing, he is sure to attain to ascetic success in course of a single month. Bathing in the Narmada as also in the tirtha known by the name of Surparaka, observing a fast for a full fortnight, one is sure to become in one's next birth a prince of the royal line. If one proceeds with restrained senses and a concentrated soul to the tirtha known under the name of Jamvumarga, one is sure to attain to success in course of a single day and night. By repairing to Chandalikasrama and bathing in the tirtha called Kokamukha, having subsisted for some time on potherbs alone and worn rags for vestments, one is sure to obtain ten maidens of great beauty for one's spouses. One who lives by the side of the tirtha known by the name of Kanya-hrada has never to go to the regions of Yama. Such a person is sure to ascend to the regions of felicity that belong to the celestials. One who bathes with restrained senses on the day of the new moon in the tirtha known by the name of Prabhasa, is sure, O thou of mighty arms, of at once attaining to success and immortality. Bathing in the tirtha known by the name of Ujjanaka which occurs in the retreat of Arshtisena's son, and next in the tirtha that is situate in the retreat of Pinga, one is sure to be cleansed of all one's sins. Observing a fast for three days and bathing in the tirtha known as Kulya and reciting the sacred mantras that go by the name of Aghamarshana, one attains the merit of a horse-sacrifice. Observing a fast for one night and bathing in Pindaraka, one becomes purified on the dawn of the next day and attains to the merit of an Agnishtoma sacrifice. One who repairs to Brahmasara which is adorned by the woods called Dharmaranya, becomes cleansed of all one's sins and attains to the merit of the Pundarika sacrifice. Bathing in the waters of the Mainaka mountain and saying one's morning and evening prayers there and living at the spot for a month, restraining desire, one attains to the merit of all the sacrifices. Setting out for Kalolaka and Nandikunda and Uttara-manasa, and reaching a spot that is hundred yojanas remote from any of them, one becomes cleansed of the sin of foeticide. One who succeeds in obtaining a sight of image of Nandiswara, becomes cleansed of all sins. Bathing in the tirtha called Swargamarga one is sure to proceed to the regions of Brahman. The celebrated Himavat is sacred. That prince of mountains is the father-in-law of Sankara. He is a mine of all jewels and gems and is the resort of the Siddhas and Charanas. That regenerate person who is fully conversant with the Vedas and who, regarding this life to be exceedingly unstable, casts off his body on those mountains, abstaining from all food and drink in accordance with the rites laid down in the scriptures, after having adored the deities and bent his head in worship of the ascetics, is sure to attain to success and proceed to the eternal regions of Brahman. There is nothing unattainable to him who resides in a tirtha, restraining lust and subjugating wrath, in consequence of such residence. For the purpose of repairing to all the tirthas in the world, one should mentally think of those amongst them that are almost inaccessible or sojourns to which are attended with insurmountable difficulties. Sojourns to tirthas is productive of the merits of sacrifices. They are competent to cleanse everybody of sin. Fraught with great excellence, they are capable of leading to heaven. The subject is truly a great mystery. The very deities should bathe in tirthas. To them also they are sin-cleansing. This discourse on tirthas should be imparted to Brahmanas, and to such honest or righteous persons as are bent upon achieving what is for their own good. It should also be recited in the hearing of one's well-wishers and friends and of one's obedient and devoted disciples. Angiras possessed of great ascetic merit, had imparted this discourse to Gautama. Angiras himself had obtained it from Kasyapa of great intelligence. The great Rishi regard this discourse as worthy of constant repetition. It is the foremost of all cleansing things. If one recites it regularly every day, one is sure to become cleansed of every sin and to proceed to heaven after the termination of this life. One who listens to this discourse recited in his hearing,--this discourse, viz., of Angiras, that is regarded as a mystery,--is sure to attain in one's next life to be born in a good family and, what is more, one would become endued with the memory of one's previous existence.'"'" SECTION XXVI "Vaisampayana said,--'Equal unto Vrihaspati in intelligence and Brahma himself in forgiveness, resembling Sakra in prowess and Surya in energy, Bhishma the son of Ganga, of infinite might, had been overthrown in battle by Arjuna. Accompanied by his brothers and many other people, king Yudhisthira asked him these questions. The old hero was lying on a bed that is coveted by heroes, in expectation of that auspicious time when he could take leave of the physical frame. Many great Rishis had come there for seeing that foremost one of Bharata's race. Amongst them were Atri and Vasishtha and Bhrigu and Pulastya and Pulaha and Kratu. There were also Angiras and Gotama and Agastya and Sumati of well-restrained soul, and Viswamitra and Sthulasiras and Samvarta and Pramati and Dama. There were also Vrihaspati and Usanas, and Vyasa and Chyavana and Kasyapa and Dhruva, and Durvasas and Jamadagni and Markandeya and Galava, and Bharadwaja and Raibhya and Yavakrita and Trita. There were Sthulaksha and Savalaksha and Kanwa and Medhatithi and Krisa and Narada and Parvata and Sudhanwa and Ekata and Dwita. There were also Nitambhu and Bhuvana and Dhaumya and Satananda and Akritavrana and Rama, the son of Jamadagni and Kacha. All these high-souled and great Rishis came there for seeing Bhishma lying on his bed of arrows. Yudhishthira with his brothers duly worshipped those high-souled Rishis who had come there, one after another in proper order. Receiving that worship, those foremost of Rishis sat themselves down and began to converse with one another. Their conversation related to Bhishma, and was highly sweet and agreeable to all the senses. Hearing that talk of theirs having reference to himself, Bhishma became filled with delight and regarded himself to be already in heaven. Those Rishis then, having obtained the leave of Bhishma and of the Pandava princes, made themselves invisible, vanishing in the very sight of all the beholders. The Pandavas repeatedly bowed and offered their adorations to those highly blessed Rishis, even after they had made themselves invisible. They then with cheerful souls waited upon the son of Ganga, even as Brahmanas versed in Mantras wait with reverence upon the rising Sun. The Pandavas beheld that the points of the compass blazed forth with splendour in consequence of the energy of their penances, and became filled with wonder at the sight. Thinking of the high blessedness and puissance of those Rishis, the Pandava princes began to converse on the subject with their grandsire Bhishma.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The conversation being over, the righteous Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, touched Bhishma's feet with his head and then resumed his questions relating to morality and righteousness.' "'Yudhishthira said, "Which countries, which provinces, which retreats, which mountains, and which rivers, O grandsire, are the foremost in point of sanctity?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of a conversation between a Brahmana in the observance of the Sila and the Unccha vows, O Yudhishthira, and a Rishi crowned with ascetic success. Once on a time, a foremost person, having roamed over this entire earth adorned with mountains, arrived at last in the house of a foremost person leading the domestic mode of life in accordance with the Sila vow. The latter welcomed his guest with due rites. Received with such hospitality, the happy Rishi passed the night happily in the house of his host. The next morning the Brahmana in the observance of the Sila vow, having finished all his morning acts and rites and purified himself duly, very cheerfully approached his guest crowned with ascetic success. Meeting with each other and seated at their ease, the two began to converse on agreeable subjects connected with the Vedas and the Upanishads. Towards the conclusion of the discourse, the Brahmana in the observance of the Sila vow respectfully addressed the Rishi crowned with success. Endued with intelligence, he put this very question which thou, O Yudhisthira, hast put to me. "'"The poor Brahmana said, 'What countries, what provinces, what retreats, what mountains, and what rivers should be regarded as the foremost in point of sanctity? Do thou discourse to me on this.' "'"The Rishi crowned with success said, 'Those countries, those provinces, those retreats, and those mountains, should be regarded as the foremost in point of sanctity through which or by the side of which that foremost of all rivers, viz., Bhagirathi flows. That end which a creature is capable of attaining by penances, by Brahmacharyya, by sacrifices, or by practising renunciation, one is sure to attain by only living by the side of the Bhagirathi and bathing in its sacred waters. Those creatures whose bodies have been sprinkled with the sacred waters of Bhagirathi or whose bones have been laid in the channel of that sacred stream, have not to fall away from heaven at any time.[237] Those men, O learned Brahmana, who use the waters of Bhagirathi in all their acts, surely ascend to heaven after departing from this world. Even those men who, having committed diverse kinds of sinful deeds in the first part of their lives, betake themselves in after years to a residing by the side of Ganga, succeed in attaining to a very superior end. Hundreds of sacrifices cannot produce that merit which men of restrained souls are capable of acquiring by bathing in the sacred waters of Ganga. A person is treated with respect and worshipped in heaven for as long a period as his bones lie in the channel of the Ganga. Even as the Sun, when he rises at the dawn of day, blazes forth in splendour, having dispelled the gloom of night, after the same manner the person that has bathed in the waters of Ganga is seen to shine in splendour, cleansed of all his sins. Those countries and those points of the compass that are destitute of the sacred waters of Ganga are like nights without the moon or like trees without flowers. Verily, a world without Ganga is like the different orders and modes of life when they are destitute of righteousness or like sacrifices without Soma. Without doubt, countries and points of the compass that are without Ganga are like the firmament without the Sun, or the Earth without mountains, or the welkin without air. The entire body of creatures in the three worlds, if served with the auspicious waters of Ganga, derive a pleasure, the like of which they are incapable of deriving from any other source. He who drinks Ganga water that has been heated by the Sun's rays derives merit much greater than that which attaches to the vow of subsisting upon the wheat or grains of other corn picked up from cowdung. It cannot be said whether the two are equal or not, viz., he who performs a thousand Chandrayana rites for purifying his body and he who drinks the water of Ganga. It cannot be said whether the two are equal or not, viz., one who stands for a thousand years on one foot and one who lives for only a month by the side of Ganga. One who lives permanently by the side of Ganga is superior in merit to one who stays for ten thousand Yugas with head hanging downwards. As cotton, when it comes into contact with fire, is burnt off without a remnant, even so the sins of the person that has bathed in Ganga become consumed without a remnant. There is no end superior to Ganga for those creatures who with hearts afflicted by sorrow, seek to attain to ends that may dispel that sorrow of theirs. As snakes become deprived of their poison at the very sight of Garuda, even so one becomes cleansed of all one's sins at the very sight of the sacred stream of Ganga. They that are without good name and that are addicted to deeds of sinfulness, have Ganga for their fame, their protection, their means of rescue, their refuge or cover. Many wretches among men who become afflicted with diverse sins of a heinous nature, when they are about to sink into hell, are rescued by Ganga in the next world (if, notwithstanding their sins, they seek the aid of Ganga in their after-years). They, O foremost of intelligent men, who plunge every day in the sacred waters of Ganga, become the equals of great Munis and the very deities with Vasava at their head. Those wretches among men that are destitute of humility or modesty of behaviour and that are exceedingly sinful, become righteous and good, O Brahmana, by betaking themselves to the side of Ganga. As Amrita is to the deities, as Swadha is to the Pitris, as Sudha is to the Nagas, even so is Ganga water to human beings. As children afflicted with hunger solicit their mothers for food, after the same manner do people desirous of their highest good pay court to Ganga. As the region of the self-born Brahma is said to be the foremost of all places, even so is Ganga said to be foremost of all rivers for those that desire to bathe. As the Earth and the cow are said to be the chief sustenance of the deities and other celestials, even so is Ganga the chief sustenance of all living creatures.[238] As the deities support themselves upon the Amrita that occurs in the Sun and the Moon and that is offered in diverse sacrifices, even so do human beings support themselves upon Ganga water. One besmeared with the sand taken from the shores of Ganga regards oneself as a denizen of heaven, adorned with celestial unguents. He who bears on his head the mud taken from the banks of Ganga presents an effulgent aspect equal to that of Sun himself bent on dispelling the surrounding darkness. When that wind which is moistened with the particles of Ganga-water touches one's person, it cleanses him immediately of every sin. A person afflicted by calamities and about to sink under their weight, finds all his calamities dispelled by the joy which springs up in his heart at sight of that sacred stream. By the melody of the swans and Kokas and other aquatic fowls that play on her breast, Ganga challenges the very Gandharvas and by her high banks the very mountains on the Earth. Beholding her surface teeming with swans and diverse other aquatic fowls, and having banks adorned with pasture lands with kine grazing on them. Heaven herself loses her pride. The high happiness which one enjoys by a residence on the banks of Ganga, can never be his who is residing even in heaven. I have no doubt in this that the person who is afflicted with sins perpetrated in speech and thought and overt act, becomes cleansed at the very sight of Ganga. By holding that sacred stream, touching it, and bathing in its waters, one rescues one's ancestors to the seventh generation, one's descendants to the seventh generation, as also other ancestors and descendants. By hearing of Ganga, by wishing to repair to that river, by drinking its waters, by touching its waters, and by bathing in them a person rescues both his paternal and maternal races. By seeing, touching, and drinking the waters of Ganga, or even by applauding Ganga, hundreds and thousands of sinful men become cleansed of all their sins. They who wish to make their birth, life and learning fruitful, should repair to Ganga and gratify the Pitris and the deities by offering them oblations of water. The merit that one earns by bathing in Ganga is such that the like of it is incapable of being earned through the acquisition of sons or wealth or the performance of meritorious acts. Those who, although possessed of the physical ability, do not seek to have a sight of the auspicious Ganga of sacred current, are, without doubt, to be likened to persons afflicted with congenital blindness or those that are dead or those that are destitute of the power of locomotion through palsy or lameness. What man is there that would not reverence this sacred stream that is adored by great Rishis conversant with the Present, the Past, and the Future, as also by the very deities with Indra at their head. What man is there that would not seek the protection of Ganga whose protection is sought for by forest recluses and householders, and by Yatis and Brahmacharins alike? The man of righteous conduct who, with rapt soul, thinks of Ganga at the time when his life-breaths are about to leave his body, succeeds in attaining to the highest end. That man who dwells by the side of Ganga up to the time of his death, adoring her with reverence, becomes freed from the fear of every kind of calamity, of sin, and of kings. When that highly sacred stream fell from the firmament, Maheswara held it on his head. It is that very stream which is adored in heaven.[239] The three regions, viz., (Earth, Heaven, and the nether place called Patala) are adorned by the three courses of this sacred stream. The man who uses the waters of that stream becomes certainly crowned with success. As the solar ray is to the deities in heaven, as Chandramas is to the Pitris, as the king is to human beings, even such is Ganga unto all streams.[240] One who becomes bereaved of mother or father or sons or spouses or wealth does not feel that grief which becomes one's, when one becomes bereaved of Ganga. One does not obtain that joy through acts that lead to the region of Brahma, or through such sacrifices and rites that lead to heaven, or through children or wealth, which one obtain from a sight of Ganga.[241] The pleasures that men derive from a sight of Ganga is equal to what they derive from a sight of the full moon. That man becomes dear to Ganga who adores her with deep devotion, with mind wholly fixed upon her, with a reverence that refuses to take any other object within its sphere, with a feeling that there is nothing else to the universe worthy of similar adoration, and with a steadiness that knows no failing away. Creatures that live on Earth, in the welkin, or in Heaven, indeed, even beings that are very superior,--should always bathe in Ganga. Verily, this is the foremost of all duties with those that are righteous. The fame of Ganga for sanctity has spread over the entire universe, since she bore all the sons of Sagara, who had been reduced to ashes, from here to Heaven.[242] Men who are washed by the bright, beautiful, high, and rapidly moving waves, raised by the wind, of Ganga, become cleansed of all their sins and resemble in splendour the Sun with his thousand rays. Those men of tranquil souls that have cast off their bodies in the waters of Ganga whose sanctity is as great as that of the butter and other liquids poured in sacrifices and which are capable of conferring merits equal to those of the greatest of sacrifices, have certainly attained to a station equal to that of the very deities. Verily, Ganga, possessed of fame and vast extent and identical with the entire universe and reverenced by the deities with Indra at their head, the Munis and human beings, is competent to bestow the fruition of all their wishes upon them that are blind, them that are idiots, and them that are destitute of all things.[243] They that sought the refuge of Ganga, that protectress of all the universe, that flows in three streams, that is filled with water at once highly sacred and sweet as honey and productive of every kind of good, have succeeded in attaining to the beatitude of Heaven.[244] That mortal who dwells by the side of Ganga and beholds her every day, becomes cleansed by her sight and touch. Unto him the deities give every kind of happiness here and a high end hereafter. Ganga is regarded as competent to rescue every creature from sin and lead him to the felicity of Heaven. She is held to be identical with Prisni, the mother of Vishnu. She is identical with the Word or Speech. She is very remote, being incapable of easy attainment. She is the embodiment of auspiciousness and prosperity. She is capable of bestowing the six well-known attributes beginning with lordship or puissance. She is always inclined to extend her grace. She is the displayer of all things in the universe, and she is the high refuge of all creatures. Those who have sought her protection in this life have surely attained heaven. The fame of Ganga has spread all over the welkin, and Heaven, and Earth, and all the points, cardinal and subsidiary, of the compass. Mortal creatures, by using the waters of that foremost of streams, always become crowned with high success. That person who himself beholding Ganga, points her out to others, finds that Ganga rescues him from rebirth and confers Emancipation on him. Ganga held Guha, the generalissimo of the celestial forces, in her womb. She bears the most precious of all metals, viz., gold, also in that womb of hers. They who bathe in her waters every day in the morning, succeed in obtaining the aggregate of three, viz., Righteousness, Wealth and Pleasure. Those waters are, again, equal in point of sanctity to the butter that is poured with Mantras on the sacrificial fire. Capable of cleansing one from every sin, she has descended from the celestial region, and her current is held in high esteem by every one. Ganga is the daughter of Himavat, the spouse of Hara, and the ornament of both Heaven and Earth. She is the bestower of everything auspicious, and is competent to confer the six well-known attributes beginning with lordship or puissance. Verily O king, Ganga is the one object of great sanctity in the three worlds and confers merit upon all. Truly, O monarch, Ganga is Righteousness in liquefied form. She is energy also running in a liquid form over the Earth. She is endued with the splendour or puissance that belongs to the butter that is poured with Mantras on the sacrificial fire. She is always adorned with large waves as also with Brahmanas who may at all times be seen performing their ablutions in her waters. Falling from Heaven, she was held by Siva on his head. The very mother of the heavens, she has sprung from the highest mountain for running over the plains and conferring the most precious benefits on all creatures of the Earth. She is the highest cause of all things; she is perfectly stainless. She is as subtile as Brahma. She affords the best bed for the dying. She leads creatures very quickly to heaven. She bears away a large volume of water. She bestows great fame on all. She is the protectress of the universe.[245] She is identical with every form. She is very much coveted by persons crowned with success. Verily, Ganga is the path to Heaven of those that have bathed in her current.[246] The Brahmanas hold Ganga as equalling the Earth in forgiveness, and in the protection and upholding of those that live by her; further, as equalling Fire and Surya in energy and splendour; and, lastly, as always equalling Guha himself in the matter of showing favours unto the regenerate class.[247] Those men who, in this life, even mentally seek with their whole souls that sacred stream which is praised by the Rishis, which has issued out of the feet of Vishnu, which is very ancient, and which is exceedingly sacred, succeed in repairing to the regions of Brahman. Fully convinced that children and other possessions, as also regions possessed by every kind of felicity, are transitory or liable to destruction, men of subdued souls, who are desirous of attaining to that everlasting station which is identical with Brahma, always pay their adorations to Ganga with that reverence and love which are due from a son to mother. The men of cleansed soul who is desirous of achieving success should seek the protection of Ganga who is like a cow that yields Amrita instead of ordinary milk, who is prosperity's self, who is possessed of omniscience, who exists for the entire universe of creatures, who is the source of all kinds of food, who is the mother of all mountains, who is the refuge of all righteous persons, who is immeasurable in puissance and energy, and who charms the heart of Brahma himself. Having, with austere penances, gratified all the deities with the Supreme Lord (Vishnu), Bhagiratha brought Ganga down on the Earth. Repairing unto her, men always succeed in freeing themselves from every kind of fear both here and hereafter. Observing with the aid of intelligence, I have mentioned to thee only a small part of the merits of Ganga. My power, however, is inadequate to speak of all the merits of the sacred river, or, indeed, to measure her puissance and sanctity. One may, by putting forth one's best powers, count the stones that occur in the mountains of Meru or measure the waters that occur in the ocean, but one cannot count all the merits which belong to the waters of Ganga. Hence, having listened to these particular merits of Ganga which I have uttered with great devotion, one should, in thought, word and deed, reverence them with faith and devotion. In consequence of thy having listened to those merits which I have recited, thou art sure to fill all the three regions with fame and attain to a measure of success that is very large and that is difficult of being attained to by any other person. Verily, thou shalt, soon after that, sport in joy many a region of great felicity created by Ganga herself for those that reverence her. Ganga always extends her grace unto those that are devoted to her with humbleness of heart. She unites those that are so devoted to her with every kind of happiness. I pray that the highly-blessed Ganga may always inspire thy heart and mine with such attributes as are fraught with righteousness'. "'Bhishma continued, "The learned ascetic endued with high intelligence and great illumination, and crowned with success, having in this manner discoursed unto that poor Brahmana in the observance of the Sila vow, on the subjects of the infinite merits of Ganga, then ascended the firmament. The Brahmana in the observance of Sila vow, awakened by the words of that ascetic crowned with success, duly worshipped Ganga and attained to high success. Do thou also, O son of Kunti, seek Ganga with great devotion, for thou shalt then, as the reward thereof, attain to high and excellent success."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing this discourse from Bhishma that was fraught with the praise of Ganga, Yudhishthira with his brothers became filled with great delight. That person who recites or hears recited this sacred discourse fraught with the praise of Ganga, becomes cleansed of every sin.'" SECTION XXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou O grandsire, art endued with wisdom and knowledge of the scriptures, with conduct and behaviour, with diverse kinds of excellent attributes, and also with years. Thou art distinguished above others by intelligence and wisdom and penances. I shall, therefore, O thou that art the foremost of all righteous men, desire to address enquiries to thee respecting Righteousness. There is not another man, O king, in all the worlds, who is worthier of being questioned on such subjects. O best of kings, how may one, if he happens to be a Kshatriya or a Vaisya or a Sudra, succeed in acquiring the status of a Brahmana? It behoveth thee to tell me the means. Is it by penances the most austere, or by religious acts, or by knowledge of the scriptures, that a person belonging to any of the three inferior orders succeeds in acquiring the status of a Brahmana? Do tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "The status of a Brahmana, O Yudhishthira, is incapable of acquisition by a person belonging to any of the three other orders. That status is the highest with respect to all creatures. Travelling through innumerable orders of existence, by undergoing repeated births, one at last, in some birth, becomes born as a Brahmana. In this connection is cited an old history, O Yudhishthira, of a conversation between Matanga and a she-ass. Once on a time a Brahmana obtained a son who, though procreated by a person belonging to a different order, had, however, the rites of infancy and youth performed in pursuance of the ordinances laid down for Brahmanas. The child was called by the name of Matanga and was possessed of every accomplishment. His father, desiring to perform a sacrifice, ordered him, O scorcher of foes, to collect the articles required for the act. Having received the command of his father, he set out for the purpose, riding on a car of great speed, drawn by an ass. It so happened that the ass yoked unto that car was of tender years. Instead therefore, of obeying the reins, the animal bore away the car to the vicinity of its dam, viz., the she-ass that had brought it forth. Matanga, dissatisfied with this, began to strike repeatedly the animal with his goad on its nose. Beholding those marks of violence on her child's nose, the she-ass, full of affection for him, said--'Do not grieve, O child, for his treatment. A Chandala it is that is driving thee. There is no severity in a Brahmana. The Brahmana is said to be the friend of all creatures. He is the teacher also of all creatures and their ruler. Can he chastise any creature so cruelly? This fellow, however, is of sinful deeds. He hath no compassion to show unto even a creature of such tender years as thou. He is simply proving the order of his birth by conducting himself in this way. The nature which he hath derived from his sire forbids the rise of those sentiments of pity and kindness that are natural to the Brahmana.' Hearing these harsh words of the she-ass, Matanga quickly came down from the car and addressing the she-ass, said,--'Tell me, O blessed dame, by what fault is my mother stained? How dost thou know that I am a Chandala? Do thou answer me without delay. How, indeed, dost thou know that I am a Chandala? How has my status as a Brahmana been lost? O thou of great wisdom, tell me all this in detail, from beginning to end.' "'"The she-ass said, 'Begotten thou wert, upon a Brahmana woman excited with desire, by a Sudra following the profession of a barber. Thou art, therefore, a Chandala by birth. The status of Brahmana thou hast not at all.'" "'Brahmana continued, 'Thus addressed by the she-ass, Matanga retraced his way homewards. Seeing him return, his father said,--'I had employed thee in the difficult task of gathering the requisites of my intended sacrifice. Why hast thou come back without having accomplished thy charge? Is it the case that all is not right with thee?' "'"Matanga said, 'How can he who belongs to no definite order of birth, or to an order that is very low be regarded as all right and happy? How, O father, can that person be happy whose mother is stained? O father, this she-ass, who seems to be more than a human being, tells me that I have been begotten upon a Brahmani woman by a Sudra. I shall, for this reason, undergo the severest penances.'--Having said these words to his father, and firmly resolved upon what he had said he proceeded to the great forest and began to undergo the austerest of penances. Setting himself to the performance of those penances for the purpose of happily acquiring the status of a Brahmana, Matanga began to scorch the very deities by the severity of his asceticism. Unto him thus engaged in penances, the chief of the celestials, viz., Indra, appeared and said,--'Why, O Matanga, dost thou pass thy time in such grief, abstaining from all kinds of human enjoyments? I shall give thee boons. Do thou name the boons thou desirest. Do not delay, but tell me what is in thy breast. Even if that be unattainable, I shall yet bestow it on thee.' "'"Matanga said, 'Desirous of attaining to the status of Brahmana I have begun to practise these penances. After having obtained it, I shall go home. Even this is the boon solicited by me.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of his, Purandara said unto him, 'The status of a Brahmana, O Matanga, which thou desirest to acquire is really unattainable by thee. It is true, thou desirest to acquire it, but then it is incapable of acquisition by persons begotten on uncleansed souls. O thou of foolish understanding, thou art sure to meet with destruction if thou persistest in this pursuit. Desist, therefore, from this vain endeavour without any delay. This object of thy desire, viz., the status of a Brahmana, which is the foremost of everything, is incapable of being won by penances. Therefore, by coveting that foremost status, thou wilt incur sure destruction. One born as a Chandala can never attain to that status which is regarded as the most sacred among the deities and Asuras and human beings!'"'" SECTION XXVIII "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed by Indra, Matanga of restrained vows and well regulated soul, (without hearkening to the counsels of the chief of the celestials), stood for a hundred years on one foot, O thou of unfading glory. Sakra of great fame once more appeared before him and addressing him, said,--'The status of a Brahmana, O child, is unattainable. Although thou covetest it, it is impossible for thee to obtain it. O Matanga, by coveting that very high status thou art sure to be destroyed. Do not, O son, betray such rashness. This cannot be a righteous path for thee to follow. O thou of foolish understanding, it is impossible for thee to obtain it in this world. Verily, by coveting that which is unattainable, thou art sure to meet with destruction in no time. I am repeatedly forbidding thee. By striving, however, to attain that high status by the aid of thy penances, notwithstanding my repeated admonition, thou art sure to meet with destruction. From the order of brute life one attains to the status of humanity. If born as human being, he is sure to take birth as a Pukkasa or a Chandala. Verily, one having taken birth in that sinful order of existence, viz., Pukkasa, one, O Matanga, has to wander in it for a very long time. Passing a period of one thousand years in that order, one attains next to the status of a Sudra. In the Sudra order, again, one has to wander for a long time. After thirty thousand years one acquire the status of a Vaisya. There, in that order, one has to pass a very long period. After a time that is sixty times longer than what has been stated as the period of Sudra existence, one becomes a person of the fighting order. In the Kshatriya order one has to pass a very long time. After a time that is measured by multiplying the period last referred to by sixty, one becomes born as a fallen Brahmana. In this order one has to wander for a long period. After a time measured by multiplying the period last named by two hundred, one becomes born in the race of such a Brahmana as lives by the profession of arms. There, in that order, one has to wander for a long period. After a time measured by multiplying the period last named by three hundred, one takes birth in the race of a Brahmana that is given to the recitation of the Gayatri and other sacred Mantras. There, in that order, one has to wander for a long period. After a time measured by multiplying the period last named by four hundred, one takes birth in the race of such a Brahmana as is conversant with the entire Vedas and the scriptures. There, in that order, one has to wander for a very long period. While wandering in that status of existence, joy and grief, desire and aversion, vanity and evil speech, seek to enter into him and make a wretch of him. If he succeeds in subjugating those foes, he then attains a high end. If, on the other hand, those enemies succeed in subjugating him, he falls down from that high status like a person falling down on the ground from the high top of a palmyra tree. Knowing this for certain, O Matanga, I say unto thee, do thou name some other boon, for the status of a Brahmana is incapable of being attained by thee (that hast been born as a Chandala)!'"'" SECTION XXIX "'Bhishma said, "Thus advised by Indra, Matanga, observant of vows, refused to hear what he was bid. On the other hand, with regulated vows and cleansed soul, he practised austere penances by standing on one foot for a thousand years, and was deeply engaged in Yoga-meditation. After a thousand years had passed away, Sakra once more came to see him. Indeed, the slayer of Vala and Vritra said unto him the same words. "'"Matanga said, 'I have passed these thousand years, standing on one foot, in deep meditation, observing of the vow of Brahmacharyya. Why is it that I have not yet succeeded in acquiring the status of a Brahmana?' "'"Sakra said, 'One born on a Chandala cannot, by any means acquire the status of a Brahmana. Do thou, therefore name some boon so that all this labour of thine may not prove fruitless.'--Thus addressed by the chief of the celestials, Matanga became filled with grief. He repaired to Prayaga, and passed there a hundred years, standing all the while on his toes. In consequence of the observance of such Yoga which was extremely difficult to bear, he became very much emaciated and his arteries and veins became swollen and visible. He was reduced to only skin and bones. Indeed, it has been heard by us that the righteous-souled Matanga, while practising those austerities at Gaya, dropped down on the ground from sheer exhaustion. The lord and giver of boons, engaged in the good of all creatures, viz., Vasava beholding him falling down, quickly came to that spot and held him fast. "'"Sakra said, 'It seems, O Matanga, that the status of a Brahmana which thou seekest is ill-suited to thee. That status is incapable of being attained by thee. Verily, in thy case, it is surrounded by many dangers. A person by worshipping a Brahmana obtains happiness; while by abstaining from such worship, he obtains grief and misery. The Brahmana is, with respect to all creatures, the giver of what they prize or covet and the protector of what they already have. It is through the Brahmanas that the Pitris and the deities become gratified. The Brahmana, O Matanga, is said to be foremost of all created Beings. The Brahmana grants all objects that are desired and in the way they are desired.[248] Wandering through innumerable orders of Being and undergoing repeated rebirths, one succeeds in some subsequent birth in acquiring the status of a Brahmana. That status is really incapable of being obtained by persons of uncleansed souls. Do thou, therefore, give up the idea. Do thou name some other boon. The particular boon which thou seekest is incapable of being granted to thee.' "'"Matanga said, 'Afflicted as I am with grief, why, O Sakra, dost thou afflict me further (with such speeches as these)? Thou art striking one that is already dead, by this behaviour. I do not pity thee for having acquired the status of a Brahmana thou now failest to retain it (for thou hast no compassion to show for one like me). O thou of a hundred sacrifices, the status of a Brahmana as thou sayest be really unattainable by any of the three other orders, yet, men that have succeeded in acquiring (through natural means) that high status do not adhere to it (for what sins do not even Brahmanas commit). Those who having acquired the status of a Brahmana that, like affluence, is so difficult to acquire, do not seek to keep it up (by practising the necessary duties), must be regarded to be the lowest of wretches in this world. Indeed, they are the most sinful of all creatures. Without doubt, the status of a Brahmana is exceedingly difficult to attain, and once being attained, it is difficult to maintain it. It is capable of dispelling every kind of grief. Alas, having attained to it, men do not always seek to keep it up (by practising righteousness and the other duties that attach to it). When even such persons are regarded as Brahmanas why is it that I, who am contented with my own self, who am above all couples of opposites, who am dissociated from all worldly objects, who am observant of the duty of compassion towards all creatures and of self-restraint of conduct, should not be regarded as deserving of that status.[249] How unfortunate I am, O Purandara, that through the fault of my mother I have been reduced to this condition, although I am not unrighteous in my behaviour? Without doubt, Destiny is incapable of being warded off or conquered by individual exertion, since, O lord, I am unable to acquire, notwithstanding these persistent efforts of mine, the object, upon the acquisition of which I have set my heart. When such is the case, O righteous one, it behoves thee to grant me some other boon if, indeed, I have become worthy of thy grace or if I have a little of merit.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The slayer of Vala and Vritra then said unto him,--'Do thou name the boon.'--Thus urged by the great Indra, Matanga said the following words: "'"Matanga said, 'Let me be possessed of the power of assuming any form at will, and journeying through the skies and let me enjoy whatever pleasures I may set my heart upon. And let me also have the willing adorations of both Brahmanas and Kshatriyas. I bow to thee by bending my head, O god. It behoveth thee to do that also by which my fame, O Purandara, may live for ever in the world.' "'"Sakra said, 'Thou shalt be celebrated as the deity of a particular measure of verse and thou shalt obtain the worship of all women. Thy fame, O son, shall become unrivalled in the three worlds.'--Having granted him these boons, Vasava disappeared there and then. Matanga also, casting off his life-breaths, attained to a high place. Thou mayst thus see, O Bharata, that the status of a Brahmana is very high. That status is incapable of being acquired here (except in the natural way of birth) as said by the great Indra himself."'" SECTION XXX "'Yudhishthira said, "I have heard this great narrative, O perpetuator of Kuru's race. Thou, O foremost of eloquent men, hast said that the status of a Brahmana is exceedingly difficult of acquisition. It is heard, however, that in former times the status of a Brahmana had been acquired by Viswamitra. Thou, however, O best of men, tellest us that status is incapable of being acquired. I have also heard that king Vitahavya in ancient times succeeded in obtaining the status of a Brahmana. I desire to hear, O puissant son of Ganga, the story of Vitahavya's promotion. By what acts did that best of kings succeed in acquiring the status of a Brahmana? Was it through some boon (obtained from some one of great puissance) or was it through the virtue of penances? It behoveth thee to tell me everything." "'Bhishma said, "Hear, O monarch, how the royal sage Vitahavya of great celebrity succeeded in ancient times in acquiring the status of a Brahmana that is so difficult to attain and that is held in such high reverence by all the world. While the high-souled Manu in days of yore was employed in righteously ruling his subjects, he obtained a son of righteous soul who became celebrated under the name of Saryati. In Saryati's race, O monarch, two kings took their birth, viz., Haihaya and Talajangha. Both of them were sons of Vatsa, O foremost of victorious kings. Haihaya, O monarch, had ten wives. Upon them he begot, O Bharata, a century of sons all of whom were highly inclined to fighting. All of them resembled one another in features and prowess. All of them were endued with great strength and all of them were possessed of great skill in battle. They all studied the Vedas and the science of weapons thoroughly. In Kasi also, O monarch, there was a king who was the grandfather of Divodasa. The foremost of victorious men, he was known by the name of Haryyaswa. The sons of king Haihaya, O chief of men (who was otherwise known by the name of Vitahavya), invaded the kingdom of Kasi and advancing to the country that lies between the rivers Ganga and Yamuna, fought a battle with king Haryyaswa and also slew him in it. Having slain king Haryyaswa in this way, the sons of Haihaya, those great car-warriors, fearlessly went back to their own delightful city in the country of the Vatsas. Meanwhile Haryyaswa's son Sudeva, who looked like a deity in splendour and who was a second god of righteousness, was installed on the throne of Kasi as its ruler. The delighter of Kasi, that righteous-souled prince ruled his kingdom for some time, when the hundred sons of Vitahavya once more invaded his dominions and defeated him in battle. Having vanquished king Sudeva thus, the victors returned to their own city. After that Divodasa, the son of Sudeva, became installed on the throne of Kasi as its ruler. Realising the prowess of those high-souled princes, viz., the sons of Vitahavya, king Divodasa, endued with great energy, rebuilt and fortified the city of Baranasi at the command of Indra. The territories of Divodasa were full of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, and abounded with Vaisyas and Sudras. And they teemed with articles and provisions of every kind, and were adorned with shops and marts swelling with prosperity. Those territories, O best of kings, stretched northwards from the banks of Ganga to the southern banks of Gomati, and resembled a second Amravati (the city of Indra). The Haihayas once again, O Bharata, attacked that tiger among kings, as he ruled his kingdom. The mighty king Divodasa endued with great splendour, issuing out of his capital, gave them battle. The engagement between the two parties proved so fierce as to resemble the encounter in days of old between the deities and the Asuras. King Divodasa fought the enemy for a thousand days at the end of which, having lost a number of followers and animals, he became exceedingly distressed.[250] King Divodasa, O monarch, having lost his army and seeing his treasury exhausted, left his capital and fled away. Repairing to the delightful retreat of Bhardwaja endued with great wisdom the king, O chastiser of foes joining his hands in reverence, sought the Rishi's protection. Beholding King Divodasa before him, the eldest son of Vrihaspati, viz., Bharadwaja of excellent conduct, who was the monarch's priest, said unto him, 'What is the reason of thy coming here? Tell me everything, O king. I shall do that which is agreeable to thee, without any scruple.' "'"The king said, 'O holy one, the sons of Vitahavya have slain all the children and men of my house. I only have escaped with life, totally discomfited by the foe. I seek thy protection. It behoveth thee, O holy one, to protect me with such affection as thou hast for a disciple. Those princes of sinful deeds have slaughtered my whole race, leaving myself only alive.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Unto him who pleaded so piteously, Bharadwaja of great energy said, 'Do not fear! Do not fear! O son of Sudeva, let thy fears be dispelled. I shall perform a sacrifice, O monarch, in order that thou mayst have a son through whom thou shalt be able to smite thousands upon thousands of Vitahavya's party.' After this, the Rishi performed a sacrifice with the object of bestowing a son on Divodasa. As the result thereof, unto Divodasa was born a son named Pratarddana. Immediately on his birth he grew up like a boy of full three and ten years and quickly mastered the entire Vedas and the whole of arms. Aided by his Yoga powers, Bharadwaja of great intelligence had entered into the prince. Indeed, collecting all the energy that occurs in the object of the universe, Bharadwaja put them together in the body of prince Pratarddana. Put on shining mail on his person and armed with the bow, Pratarddana, his praises sung by bards and the celestial Rishis, shone resplendent like the risen star of day. Mounted on his car and with the scimitar tied to his belt, he shone like a blazing fire. With scimitar and shield and whirling his shield as he went, he proceeded to the presence of his sire. Beholding the prince, the son of Sudeva, viz., king Divodasa, became filled with joy. Indeed, the old king thought the sons of his enemy Vitahavya as already slain. Divodasa then installed his son Pratarddana as Yuvaraja, and regarding himself crowned with success became exceedingly happy. After this, the old king commanded that chastiser of foes, viz., prince Pratarddana to march against the sons of Vitahavya and slay them in battle. Endued with great powers, Pratarddana, that subjugator of hostile cities speedily crossed Ganga on his car and proceeded against the city of the Vitahavyas. Hearing the clatter produced by the wheels of his car, the sons of Vitahavya, riding on their own cars that looked like fortified citadels and that were capable of destroying hostile vehicles, issued out of their city. Issuing out of their capital, those tigers among men, viz., the sons of Vitahavya, who were all skilful warriors cased in mail, rushed with uplifted weapons towards Pratarddana, covering him with showers of arrows. Encompassing him with innumerable cars, O Yudhisthira, the Vitahavyas poured upon Pratarddana showers of weapons of various kinds like clouds pouring torrents of rain on the breast of Himavat. Baffling their weapons with his own, prince Pratarddana endued with mighty energy slew them all with his shafts that resembled the lighting fire of Indra. Their heads struck off, O king, with hundreds and thousands of broad-headed arrows, the warriors of Vitahavya fell down with blood-dyed bodies like Kinsuka trees felled by woodmen with their axes on every side. After all his warriors and sons had fallen in battle, king Vitahavya fled away from his capital to the retreat of Bhrigu. Indeed, arrived there, the royal fugitive sought the protection of Bhrigu. The Rishi Bhrigu, O monarch, assured the defeated king of his protection. Pratarddana followed in the footsteps of Vitahavya. Arrived at the Rishi's retreat, the son of Divodasa said in a loud voice.--'Ho, listen ye disciples of the high souled Bhrigu that may happen to be present, I wish to see the sage. Go and inform him of this. Recognising that it was Pratarddana who had come, the Rishi Bhrigu himself came out of his retreat and worshipped that best of kings according to due rites. Addressing him then, the Rishi said,--Tell me, O king, what is thy business.' The king, at this, informed the Rishi of the reason of his presence.' "'"The king said, 'King Vitahavya has come here, O Brahmana. Do thou give him up. His sons, O Brahmana, had destroyed my race. They had laid waste the territories and the wealth of the kingdom of Kasi. Hundred sons, however, of this king proud of his might, have all been slain by me. By slaying that king himself I shall today pay off the debt I owe to my father.' Unto him that foremost of righteous men, viz., the Rishi Bhrigu, penetrated with compassion, replied by saying,--'There is no Kshatriya in this retreat. They that are here are all Brahmanas.' Hearing these words of Bhrigu that must accord he thought with truth, Pratarddana touched the Rishi's feet slowly and, filled with delight, said,--'By this, O holy one, I am without doubt, crowned with success, since this king becomes abandoned by the very order of his birth in consequence of my prowess. Give me thy permission, O Brahmana, to leave thee, and let me solicit thee to pray for my welfare. This king, O founder of the race that goes by the name, has been compelled to leave of the very community of his birth, in consequence of my might. Dismissed by the Rishi Bhrigu, king Pratarddana then departed from that retreat, having even as a snake vomits forth its real poison and repaired to the place he had come from. Meanwhile, king Vitahavya attained to the status of a Brahmana sage by virtue of the words only of Bhrigu. And he acquired also a complete mastery over all the Vedas through the same cause. Vitahavya had a son named Gritsamada who in beauty of person was a second Indra. Once on a time the Daityas afflicted him much, believing him to be none else than Indra. With regard to that high-souled Rishi, one foremost of Srutis in the Richs goes like this viz., He with whom Gritsamada stays, O Brahmana, is held in high respect by all Brahmanas. Endued with great intelligence, Gritsamada become a regenerate Rishi in the observance of Brahmacharyya. Gritsamada had a regenerate son of the name of Sutejas. Sutejas had a son of the name of Varchas, and the son of Varchas was known by the name of Vihavya. Vihavya had a son of his loins who was named Vitatya and Vitatya had a son of name Satya. Satya had a son of name Santa. Santa had a son, viz., the Rishi Sravas. Sravas begot a son named Tama. Tama begot a son named Prakasa, who was a very superior Brahmana. Prakasa had a son named Vagindra who was the foremost of all silent reciters of sacred Mantras. Vagindra begot a son named Pramati who was a complete master of all the Vedas and their branches. Pramati begot upon the Apsara Ghritachi a son who was named Ruru. Ruru begot a son upon his spouse Pramadvara. That son was the regenerate Rishi Sunaka. Sunaka begot a son who is named Saunaka. It was even thus, O foremost of monarchs, that king Vitahavya, though a Kshatriya by the order of his birth, obtained the status of a Brahmana, O chief of Kshatriyas, through the grace of Bhrigu. I have also told thee the genealogy of the race that sprung from Gritsamada. What else wouldst thou ask?'"'" SECTION XXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "What men, O chief of Bharata's race, are worthy of reverent homage in the three worlds? Tell me this in detail verily. I am never satiated with hearing thee discourse on these topics." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Narada and Vasudeva. Beholding Narada on one occasion worshipping many foremost of Brahmanas with joined hands, Kesava addressed him saying, 'Whom dost thou worship? Whom amongst these Brahmanas, O holy one dost thou worship with so great reverence? If it is a matter that I can hear of, I then wish to hear it. Do, O foremost of righteous men, tell me this!'[251] "'"Narada said, 'Hear, O Govinda, as to who those are whom I am worshipping, O grinder of foes. Who else is there in this world that so much deserves to hear this? I worship the Brahmanas, O puissant one, who constantly worship Varuna and Vayu and Aditya and Parjanya and the deity of Fire, and Sthanu and Skanda and Lakshmi and Vishnu and the Brahmanas, and the lord of speech, and Chandramas, and the Waters and Earth and the goddess Saraswati. O tiger of Vrishni's race, I always worship those Brahmanas that are endued with penances, that are conversant with the Vedas, that are always devoted to Vedic study, and that are possessed of high worth. O puissant one, I bow down my head unto those persons who are freed from boastfulness, who discharge, with an empty stomach, the rites in honour of the deities, who are always contented with what they have and who are endued with forgiveness. I worship them, O Yadava, that are performers of sacrifices, that are of a forgiving disposition, and self restrained, that are masters of their own senses, that worship truth and righteousness, and that give away land and kine unto good Brahmanas.[252] I bow unto them, O Yadava, that are devoted to the observance of penances, that dwell in forests, that subsist upon fruits and roots, that never store anything for the morrow, and that are observant of all the acts and rites laid down in the scriptures. I bow unto them, O Yadava, that feed and cherish their servants, that are always hospitable to guests, and that eat only the remnants of what is offered to the deities. I worship them that have become irresistible by studying the Vedas, that are eloquent in discoursing on the scriptures, that are observant of the vow of Brahmacharyya, and that are always devoted to the duties of officiating at the sacrifices of others and of teaching disciples. I worship them that are endued with compassion towards all creatures, and that study the Vedas till noon (i.e. till their backs are heated by the sun). I bow unto them, O Yadava, that strive to obtain the grace of their preceptors, that labour in the acquisition of their Vedas, that are firm in the observance of vows, that wait, with dutiful obedience, upon their preceptors and seniors, and that are free from malice and envy. I bow unto them, O Yadava, that are observant of excellent vows, that practice taciturnity, that have knowledge of Brahman, that are firm in truth, that are givers of libations of clarified butter and oblations of meat. I bow to them, O Yadava, that subsist upon eleemosynary alms, that are emaciated for want of adequate food and drink, that have lived in the abodes of their preceptors, that are averse to and destitute of all enjoyments, and that are poor in the goods of this Earth. I bow unto them, O Yadava, that have no affection for things of this Earth, that have no quarrels to wage with others, that do not clothe themselves, that have no wants, that have become irresistible through the acquisition of the Vedas, that are eloquent in the exposition of righteousness, and that are utterers of Brahma. I bow unto them that are devoted to the practice of the duty of compassion towards all creatures, that are firm in the observance of truth, that are self-restrained, and that are peaceful in their behaviour. I bow unto them, O Yadava, that are devoted to the worship of deities and guests, that are observant of the domestic mode of life, and that follow the practice of pigeons in the matter of their subsistence.[253] I always bow unto those persons whose aggregate of three exists, without being weakened, in all their acts, and who are observant of truth and righteous behaviour.[254] I bow unto them, O Kesava, that are conversant with Brahma, that are endued with knowledge of the Vedas, that are attentive to the aggregate of three, that are free from cupidity, and that are righteous in their behaviour. I bow unto them, O Madhava, that subsist upon water only, or upon air alone, or upon the remnants of the food that is offered to deities and guests, and that are observant of diverse kinds of excellent vows. I always worship them that have no spouses (in consequence of the vow of celibacy they observe), that have spouses and the domestic fire (in consequence of the domestic mode of life they lead), that are the refuge of the Vedas, and that are the refuge of all creatures in the universe (in consequence of the compassion they feel towards them). I always bow unto those Rishis, O Krishna, that are the creators of the universe, that are the elders of the universe, that are the eldest members of the race or the family, that are dispellers of the darkness of ignorance, and that are the best of all persons in the universe (for righteousness of behaviour and knowledge of the scriptures). For these reasons, do thou also, O scion of Vrishni's race, worship every day those regenerate persons of whom I speak. Deserving as they are of reverent worship, they will when worshipped, confer happiness on thee, O sinless one. Those persons of whom I speak are always givers of happiness in this world as well as in the next. Reverenced by all, they move about in this world, and if worshipped by thee are sure to grant thee happiness. They who are hospitable to all persons that come unto them as guests, and who are always devoted to Brahmanas and kine, as also to truth (in speech and behaviour), succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who are always devoted to peacefulness of behaviour, as also they who are freed from malice and envy, and they who are always attentive to the study of the Vedas, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who bow unto all the deities (without showing a preference for any and thereby proving their tolerance), they who betake themselves to one Veda as their refuge, they who are possessed of faith and are self-restrained, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who worship the foremost of Brahmanas with reverence and are firm in the observance of excellent vows and practise the virtue of charity, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who are engaged in the practice of penances, they who are always observant of the vow of celibacy, and they whose souls have been cleansed by penances, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who are devoted to the worship of the deities and guests and dependants, as also of the Pitris, and they who eat the remnant of the food that is offered to deities, Pitris, guests and dependants, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who, having ignited the domestic fire, duly keep it burning and worship it with reverence and they who have duly poured libations (to the deities) in Soma-sacrifices, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles. They who behave as they should towards their mothers and fathers and preceptors and other seniors even as thou, O tiger among the Vrishnis, dost behave, succeed in crossing all calamities and obstacles.'--Having said these words, the celestial Rishi ceased speaking."' "'Bhishma continued, "For these reasons, do thou also, O son of Kunti, always worship with reverence the deities, the Pitris, the Brahmanas, and guests arrived at thy mansion and as the consequence of such conduct thou art sure to attain to a desirable end!"'" SECTION XXXII "'Yudhishthira said,--"O grandsire, O thou of great wisdom, O thou that art conversant with all branches of knowledge, I desire to hear thee discourse on topics connected with duty and righteousness. Tell me truly, O chief of Bharata's race, what the merits are of those persons that grant protection to living creatures of the four orders when these pray for protection." "'Bhishma said, "O Dharma's son of great wisdom and widespread fame, listen to this old history touching the great merit of granting protection to others when protection is humbly sought. Once on a time, a beautiful pigeon, pursued by a hawk, dropped down from the skies and sought the protection of the highly-blessed king Vrishadarbha. The pure-souled monarch, beholding the pigeon take refuge in his lap from fear, comforted him, saying, 'Be comforted, O bird; do not fear. Whence hast thou taken such great fright? What hast thou done and where hast thou done it in consequence of which thou hast lost thy senses in fear and art more dead than alive? Thy colour, beautiful bird, is such as to resemble that which adorns a fresh-blown lotus of the blue variety. Thy eyes are of the hue of the pomegranate or the Asoka flower. Do not fear. I bid thee, be comforted. When thou hast sought refuge with me, know that no one will have the courage to even think of seizing thee,--thee that hast such a protector to take care of thy person. I shall for thy sake, give up today the very kingdom of the Kasi and, if need be, my life too. Be comforted, therefore, and let no fear be thine, O pigeon.' "'"The hawk said, 'This bird has been ordained to be my food. It behoves thee not, O king, to protect him from me. I have outcoursed this bird and have got him. Verily, with great effort have I got at him at last. His flesh and blood and marrow and fat will be of great good to me. This bird will be the means of gratifying me greatly. Do not, O king, place thyself between him and me in this way. Fierce is the thirst that is afflicting me, and hunger is gnawing my bowels. Release the bird and cast him off. I am unable to bear the pains of hunger any longer. I pursued him as my prey. Behold, his body is bruised and torn by me with my wings and talons. Look, his breath has become very weak. It behoves thee not, O king, to protect him from me. In the exercise of that power which properly belongs to thee, thou art, indeed competent to interfere in protecting human beings when they are sought to be destroyed by human beings. Thou canst not, however, be admitted to have any power over a sky-ranging bird afflicted with thirst. Thy power may extend over thy enemies, thy servants, thy relatives, the disputes that take place between thy subjects. Indeed, it may extend over every part of thy dominions and over also thy own senses. Thy power, however, does not extend over the welkin. Displaying thy prowess over such foes as act against thy wishes, thou mayst establish thy rule over them. Thy rule, however, does not extend over the birds that range the sky. Indeed, if thou hast been desirous of earning merit (by protecting this pigeon), it is thy duty to look at me also (and do what is proper for enabling me to appease my hunger and save my life)!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the hawk, the royal sage became filled with wonder. Without disregarding these words of his, the king, desirous of attending to his comforts, replied unto him saying the following words. "'"The king said, 'Let a bovine bull or boar or deer or buffalo be dressed today for thy sake. Do thou appease thy hunger on such food today. Never to desert one that has sought my protection in my firm vow. Behold, O bird, this bird does not leave my lap!' "'"The hawk said, 'I do not, O monarch, eat the flesh of the boar or the ox or of any of the diverse kinds of fowl. What need have I of food of this or that kind? My concern is with that food which has been eternally ordained for beings of my order. Hawks feed on pigeons,--this is the eternal ordinance. O sinless Usinara, if thou feelest such affection for this pigeon, do thou then give me flesh from thy own body, of weight equal to that of this pigeon.' "'"The king said, 'Great is the favour thou showiest me today by speaking to me in this strain. Yes, I shall do what thou biddest.' Having said this, that best of monarchs began to cut off his own flesh and weigh it in a balance against the pigeon. Meanwhile, in the inner apartments of the palace, the spouses of king, adorned with jewels and gems, hearing what was taking place, uttered exclamations of woe and came out, stricken with grief. In consequence of those cries of the ladies, as also of the ministers and servants, a noise deep as the roar of the clouds arose in the palace. The sky that had been very clear became enveloped with thick clouds on every side. The Earth began to tremble, as the consequence of that act of truth which the monarch did. The king began to cut off the flesh from his flanks from the arms, and from his thighs, and quickly filled one of the scales for weighing it against the pigeon. In spite of all that, the pigeon continued to weigh heavier. When at last the king became a skeleton of bones, without any flesh, and covered with blood, he desired to give up his whole body and, therefore, ascended the scale in which he had placed the flesh that he had previously cut off. At that time, the three worlds, with Indra at their head, came to that spot for beholding him. Celestial kettle-drums and diverse drums were struck and played upon by invisible beings belonging to the firmament. King Vrishadarbha was bathed in a shower of nectar that was poured upon him. Garlands of celestial flowers, of delicious fragrance and touch, were also showered upon him copiously and repeatedly. The deities and Gandharvas and Apsaras in large bands began to sing and dance around him even as they sing and dance around the Grandsire Brahma. The king then ascended a celestial car that surpassed (in grandeur and beauty) a mansion made entirely of gold, that had arches made of gold and gems, and that was adorned with columns made of lapis lazuli. Through the merit of his act, the royal sage Sivi proceeded to eternal Heaven. Do thou also, O Yudhishthira, act in the same way towards those that seek thy protection. He who protects those that are devoted to him, those that are attached to him from love and affection, and those that depend upon him, and who has compassion for all creatures, succeeds in attaining to great felicity hereafter. That king who is of righteous behaviour and who is observant of honesty and integrity, succeeds by his acts of sincerity in acquiring every valuable reward. The royal sage Sivi of pure soul and endued with great wisdom and unbaffled prowess, that ruler of the kingdom of Kasi, became celebrated over the three worlds for his deeds of righteousness. Anybody who would protect in the same way a seeker for protection, would certainly attain (like Sivi himself) to the same happy end, O best of the Bharatas. He who recites this history of the royal sage Vrishadarbha is sure to become cleansed of every sin, and the person who hears this history recited by another is sure to attain to the same result."'" SECTION XXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Which act, O grandsire, is the foremost of all those that have been laid down for a king? What is that act by doing which a king succeeds in enjoying both this world and the next?" "'Bhishma said, "Even this viz., the worship of the Brahmanas, is the foremost of all those acts, O Bharata, which have been laid down for a king duly installed on the throne, if, indeed, he is desirous of obtaining great happiness. Even this is what the foremost of all kings should do. Know this well, O chief of Bharata's race. The king should always worship with reverence all righteous Brahmanas possessed of Vedic lore.[255] The king should, with bows and comforting speeches and gifts of all articles of enjoyment, worship all Brahmanas possessed of great learning who may dwell in his city or provinces. This is the foremost of all acts laid down for the king. Indeed, the king should always keep his eyes fixed on this. He should protect and cherish these, even as he protects his own self or his own children. The king should worship with greater reverence those amongst the Brahmanas that may be worthy of it (for their superior sanctity and learning). When such men are freed from all anxiety, the whole kingdom blazes forth in beauty. Such individuals are worthy of adoration. Unto such the king should bow his head. Verily, they should be honoured, even as one honours one's sires and grandsires. Upon them depends the course of conduct followed by men, even as the existence of all creatures depends upon Vasava. Of prowess incapable of being baffled and endued with great energy, such men, if enraged, are capable of consuming the entire kingdom to ashes by only fiat of their will, or by acts of incantation, or by other means (derived from the power of penance). I do not see anything that can destroy them. Their power seems to be uncontrolled, being capable of reaching to the farthest end of the universe. When angry, their glances fall upon men and things like a blazing flame of fire upon a forest. The most courageous men are struck with fear at their mein. Their virtues and powers are extraordinary and immeasurable. Some amongst them are like wells and pits with mouths covered by grass and creepers, while others resemble the firmament cleared of clouds and darkness. Some amongst them are of fierce dispositions (like Durvasas and others of that stamp). Some are as mild and soft in disposition as cotton (like Gautama and others). Some amongst them are very cunning (like Agastya who devoured the Asura Vatapi, and Rishis of that class). Some amongst them are devoted to the practice of penances. Some amongst them are employed in agricultural pursuits (like the preceptor of Uddalaka). Some amongst them are engaged in the keep of kine (as Upamanyu while attending his preceptor). Some amongst them live upon eleemosynary alms. Some amongst them are even thieves (like Valmiki in his early years and Viswamitra during a famine). Some amongst them are fond of fomenting quarrels and disputes (like Narada). Some, again, amongst them are actors and dancers (like Bharata). Some amongst them are competent to achieve all feats, ordinary and extraordinary (like Agastya drinking up the entire ocean, as if it were a palmful of water). The Brahmanas, O chief of Bharata's race are of diverse aspects and behaviour. One should always utter the praises of the Brahmanas who are conversant with all duties, who are righteous of behaviour, who are devoted to diverse kinds of act, and who are seen to derive their sustenance from diverse kinds of occupations.[256] The Brahmanas, O ruler of men, who are highly blessed, are elder in respect of their origin than the Pitris, the deities, human beings (belonging to the three other orders), the Snakes and the Rakshasas. These regenerate persons are incapable of being vanquished by the deities or the Pitris, or the Gandharvas or the Rakshasas, or the Asuras or the Pisachas. The Brahmanas are competent to make him a deity that is not a deity. They can, again, divest one that is a deity of his status as such. He becomes a king whom they wish to make a king. He, on the other hand, goes to the wall whom they do not love or like. I tell thee truly, O king, that those foolish persons, without doubt, meet with destruction who calumniate the Brahmanas and utter their dispraise. Skilled in praise and dispraise, and themselves the origin or cause of other people's fame and ignominy the Brahmanas, O king, always become angry with those that seek to injure others. That man whom the Brahmanas praise succeeds in growing in prosperity. That man who is censured and is cast off by the Brahmanas soon meets with discomfiture. It is in consequence of the absence of Brahmanas from among them that the Sakas, the Yavanas, the Kamvojas and other Kshatriya tribes have become fallen and degraded into the status of Sudras. The Dravidas, the Kalingas, the Pulandas, the Usinaras, the Kolisarpas, the Mahishakas and other Kshatriyas, have, in consequence of the absence of Brahmanas from among their midst, become degraded into Sudras. Defeat at their hands is preferable to victory over them, O foremost of victorious persons. One slaying all other living creatures in the world does not incur a sin so heinous as that of slaying a single Brahmana. The great Rishis have said that Brahmanicide is a heinous sin. One should never utter the dispraise or calumny of the Brahmanas. Where the dispraise of Brahmanas is uttered, one should sit with face hanging down or leave that spot (for avoiding both the utterer and his words). That man has not as yet been born in this world or will not take birth here, who has been or will be able to pass his life in happiness after quarrelling with the Brahmanas. One cannot seize the wind with one's hands. One cannot touch the moon with one's hand. One cannot support the Earth on one's arms. After the same manner, O king, one is not able to vanquish the Brahmanas in this world."'" SECTION XXXIV "'Bhishma said, "One should always offer the most reverent worship unto the Brahmanas. They have Soma for their king, and they it is who confer happiness and misery upon others. They, O king, should always be cherished and protected as one cherishes and protects one's own sires and grandsires, and should be adored with bows and gifts of food and ornaments and other articles of enjoyment, as also with such things as they may desire. The peace and happiness of the kingdom flow from such respect shown to the Brahmanas even as the peace and happiness of all living creatures flow from Vasava, the chief of the celestials. Let Brahmanas of pure behaviour and Brahma-effulgence be born in a kingdom. Kshatriyas also that are splendid car-warriors and that are capable of scorching all foes, should be desired (amongst those that settle in a kingdom). This was said unto me by Narada. There is nothing higher, O king, than this, viz., the act of causing a Brahmana possessed of good birth, having a knowledge of morality and righteousness, and steadfast in the observance of excellent vows, to take up his residence in one's mansion. Such an act is productive of every kind of blessing. The sacrificial offerings given unto Brahmanas reach the very deities who accept them. Brahmanas are the sires of all creatures. There is nothing higher than a Brahmana. Aditya, Chandramas, Wind, Water, Earth, Sky and the points of the compass, all enter the body of the Brahmana and take what the Brahmana eats.[257] In that house where Brahmanas do not eat, the Pitris refuse to eat. The deities also never eat in the house of the wretch who hates the Brahmanas. When the Brahmanas are gratified, the Pitris also are gratified. There is no doubt in this. They that give away the sacrificial butter unto the Brahmanas become themselves gratified (in this and the other world). Such men never meet with destruction. Verily, they succeed in attaining to high ends. Those particular offerings in sacrifices with which one gratifies the Brahmanas go to gratify both the Pitris and the deities. The Brahmana is the cause of that sacrifice whence all created things have sprung. The Brahmana is acquainted with that from which this universe has sprung and unto which, when apparently destroyed, it returns. Indeed the Brahmana knows the path that leads to Heaven and the other path that leads to the opposite place. The Brahmana is conversant with what has happened and what will happen. The Brahmana is the foremost of all two-legged beings. The Brahmana, O chief of the Bharatas, is fully conversant with the duties that have been laid down for his order. Those persons that follow the Brahmanas are never vanquished. Departing from this world, they never meet with destruction. Indeed victory is always theirs. Those high-souled persons,--indeed, those persons that have subdued their souls,--who accept the words that fall from the lips of the Brahmanas, are never vanquished. Victory always becomes theirs.[258] The energy and might of those Kshatriyas who scorch everything with their energy and might become neutralised when they encounter the Brahmanas. The Bhrigus conquered the Talajanghas. The son of Angiras conquered the Nipas. Bharadwaja conquered the Vitahavyas as also the Ailas, O chief of Bharata's race. Although all these Kshatriyas were capable of using diverse kinds of arms, yet the Brahmanas named, owning only black deer skins for their emblems, succeeded in conquering them effectually. Bestowing the Earth upon the Brahmanas and illuminating both the worlds by the splendour of such a deed, one should accomplish acts through which one may succeed in attaining to the end of all things.[259] Like fire concealed within wood, everything that is said or heard or read in this world, lies ensconced in the Brahmana. In this connection is cited the old history of the conversation between Vasudeva and the Earth, O chief of Bharata's race! "'"Vasudeva said, 'O mother of all creatures, O auspicious goddess, I desire to ask thee for a solution of this doubt of mine. By what act does a man leading the domestic mode of life succeed in cleansing all his sins?' "'"The Earth said, 'One should serve the Brahmanas. This conduct is cleansing and excellent. All the impurities are destroyed of that man who serves the Brahmanas with reverence. From this (conduct) arises prosperity. From this arises fame. From this springs forth intelligence or knowledge of the soul. A Kshatriya by this conduct, becomes a mighty car-warrior and a scorcher of foes and succeeds in acquiring great fame. Even this is what Narada said unto me, viz., that one should always revere a Brahmana that is well-born, of rigid vows and conversant with the scriptures, if one desires every kind of prosperity. That man really grows in prosperity who is applauded by the Brahmanas, who are higher than those that are regarded superior to all men high or low. That man who speaks ill of the Brahmanas soon meets with discomfiture, even as a clod of unbaked earth meets with destruction when cast into the sea. After the same manner, all acts that are hurtful to the Brahmanas are sure to bring about discomfiture and ruin. Behold the dark spots on the Moon and the salt waters of the ocean. The great Indra had at one time been marked all over with a thousand sex-marks. It was through the power of the Brahmanas that those marks became altered into as so many eyes. Behold, O Mahadeva how all those things took place. Desiring fame and prosperity and diverse regions of beatitude in the next world, a person of pure behaviour and soul should, O slayer of Madhu, live in obedience to the dictates of the Brahmanas.'"[260] "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the goddess Earth, the slayer of Madhu, O thou of Kuru's race, exclaimed,--Excellent, Excellent--and honoured the goddess in due form. Having heard this discourse between the goddess Earth and Madhava, do thou, O son of Pritha, always, with rapt soul, worship all superior Brahmanas. Doing this, thou shalt verily obtain what is highly beneficial for thee!"'" SECTION XXXV "'Bhishma said, "O blessed king, Brahmana, by birth alone, becomes an object of adoration with all creatures and are entitled, as guests, to eat the first portion of all cooked food.[261] From them flow all the great objects of life (viz., Righteousness and Wealth and Pleasure and Emancipation). They are the friends of all creatures in the universe. They are again the mouths of the deities (for food poured into their mouths is eaten by the deities). Worshipped with reverence, they wish us prosperity by uttering words fraught with auspiciousness. Disregarded by our foes, let them be enraged with these, and let them wish evil unto those detractors of theirs, uttering words fraught with severe curses. In this connection, persons conversant with ancient history repeat the following verses sung of old respecting how in ancient times the Creator, after having created the Brahmanas, ordained their duties.--'A Brahmana should never do anything else than what has been ordained for him. Protected, they should protect others. By conducting themselves in this way, they are sure to attain to what is mightily advantageous for them. By doing those acts that are ordained for them, they are sure to obtain Brahma-prosperity. Ye shall become the exemplars of all creatures, and reins for restraining them. A Brahmana possessed of learning should never do that which is laid down for the Sudras. By doing such acts, a Brahmana loses merit[262]. By Vedic study he is sure to obtain prosperity and intelligence and energy and puissance competent to scorch all things, as also glory of the most exalted kind. By offering oblations of clarified butter unto the deities, the Brahmanas attain to high blessedness and become worthy of taking the precedence of even children in the matter of all kinds of cooked food, and endued with Brahma-prosperity.[263] Endued with faith that is fraught with compassion towards all creatures, and devoted to self-restraint and the study of the Vedas, ye shall attain to the fruition of all your wishes. Whatever things exist in the world of men, whatever things occur in the region of the deities, can all be achieved and acquired with the aid of penances and knowledge and the observance of vows and restraints.' I have thus recited to thee, O sinless one, the verses that were sung by Brahma himself. Endued with supreme intelligence and wisdom, the Creator himself ordained this, through compassion for the Brahmanas. The puissance of those among them that are devoted to penances is equal to the might of kings. They are verily irresistible, fierce, possessed of the speed of lightning, and exceedingly quick in what they do. There are amongst them those that are possessed of the might of lions and those that are possessed of the might of tigers. Some of them are endued with the might of boars, some with that of the deer, and some with that of crocodiles. Some there are amongst them whose touch resembles that of snakes of virulent poison, and some whose bite resembles that of sharks. Some amongst them are capable of compassing by speech alone the destruction of those that are opposed to them; and some are competent to destroy by a glance only of their eyes. Some amongst them, as already said, are like snakes of virulent poison, and some of them are possessed of very mild dispositions. The dispositions, O Yudhisthira, of the Brahmanas, are of diverse kinds. The Mekalas, the Dravidas, the Lathas, the Paundras, the Konwasiras, the Saundikas, the Daradas, the Darvas, the Chauras, the Savaras, the Varvaras, the Kiratas, the Yavanas, and numerous other tribes of Kshatriyas, have become degraded into the status of Sudras through the wrath of Brahmanas. In consequence of having disregarded the Brahmanas, the Asuras have been obliged to take refuge in the depths of the ocean. Through the grace of the Brahmanas, the deities have become denizens of the happy regions of Heaven. The element of space or ether is incapable of being touched. The Himavat mountains are incapable of being moved from their site. The current of Ganga is incapable of being resisted by a dam. The Brahmanas are incapable of being subjugated. Kshatriyas are incapable of ruling the Earth without cultivating the good will of the Brahmanas. The Brahmanas are high-souled beings. They are the deities of the very deities. Do thou always worship them with gifts and obedient services: if, indeed, thou wishest to enjoy the sovereignty of the whole Earth with her belt of seas. The energy and might of Brahmanas, O sinless one, become abated in consequence of the acceptance of gift. Thou shouldst protect thy race. O king, from those Brahmanas that do not desire to accept gifts!"'"[264] (Anusasana Parva Continued in Volume XI) SECTION XXXVI "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old history of the discourse between Sakra and Samvara. Do thou listen to it, O Yudhishthira. Once upon a time Sakra, assuming the guise of an ascetic with matted locks on his head and body smeared with ashes all over, rode on an ugly car and repaired to the presence of the Asura Samvara. "'"Sakra said, 'Through what conduct, O Samvara, hast thou been able to get at the head of all individuals of thy race? For what reason do all people regard thee as superior? Do thou tell me this truly and in detail.' "'"Samvara said, 'I never cherish any ill-feelings towards the Brahmanas. Whatever instructions they impart I accept with unquestioning reverence. When the Brahmanas are engaged in interpreting the scriptures, I listen to them with great happiness. Having heard their interpretations I never disregard them. Nor do I ever offend against the Brahmanas in any way. I always worship those Brahmanas that are endued with intelligence. I always seek information from them. I always worship their feet. Approaching me with confidence, they always address me with affection and enquire after my welfare. If they ever happen to be heedless, I am always heedful. If they happen to sleep, I always remain wakeful. Like bees drenching the cells of the comb with honey, the Brahmanas, who are my instructors and rulers, always drench me with the nectar of knowledge--me that am always devoted to the path pointed out by the scriptures, that am devoted to the Brahmanas, and that am perfectly free from malice or evil passion. Whatever they say with cheerful hearts, I always accept aided by memory and understanding. I am always careful of my own faith in them and I always think of my own inferiority to them. I always lick the nectar that dwells at the end of their tongue, and it is for this reason that I occupy a position far above that of all others of my race like the Moon transcending all the stars. The scriptural interpretations which fall from the lips of the Brahmanas and listening to which every wise man acts in the world, constitute nectar on earth and may also be likened to eyes of remarkable excellence.[265] Witnessing the encounter between the deities and the Asuras in days of old, and understanding the puissance of the instructions that fell from the Brahmanas, my father became filled with delight and wonder.[266] Beholding the puissance of high-souled Brahmanas, my sire asked Chandramas the question, "How do the Brahmanas attain to success?" "'"'Soma said, "The Brahmanas become crowned with success through their penances. Their strength consists in speech. The prowess of persons belonging to the kingly order resides in their arms. The Brahmanas, however, have speech for their weapons. Undergoing the discomforts of a residence in the abode of his preceptor, the Brahmana should study the Vedas or at least the Pranava. Divesting himself of wrath and renouncing earthly attachments, he should become a Yati, viewing all things and all creatures with equal eyes. If remaining in the abode of his sire he masters all the Vedas and acquiring great knowledge attains to a position that should command respect, people still condemn him as untravelled or homekeeping. Like a snake swallowing mice, the earth swallows up these two, viz., a king that is unwilling to fight and a Brahmana that is unwilling to leave home for acquiring knowledge.[267] Pride destroys the prosperity of persons of little intelligence. A maiden, if she conceives, becomes stained. A Brahmana incurs reproach by keeping at home. Even this is what my father heard from Soma of wonderful aspect. My father, in consequence of this, began to worship and reverence the Brahmanas. Like him, I also worship and adore all Brahmanas of high vows."'"'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words that fell from the mouth of that prince of Danavas, Sakra began to worship the Brahmanas, and as a consequence thereof he succeeded in obtaining the chiefdom of the deities."'" SECTION XXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Which amongst these three persons, O grandsire, should be regarded as the best for making gifts unto, viz., one who is a thorough stranger, or one who is living with and who has been known to the giver for a long time, or one who presents himself before the giver, coming from a long distance?" "'Bhishma said, "All these are equal. The eligibility of some consists in their soliciting alms for performing sacrifices or for paying the preceptor's fee or for maintaining their spouses and children. The eligibility of some for receiving gifts, consists in their following the vow of wandering over the earth, never soliciting anything but receiving when given. We should also give unto one what one seeks.[268] We should, however, make gifts without afflicting those that depend upon us. Even this is what we have heard. By afflicting one's dependants, one afflicts one's own self. The stranger,--one, that is, who has come for the first time,--should be regarded as a proper object of gifts. He who is familiar and well-known and has been living with the giver, should be regarded in the same light. The learned know that he too who comes from a distant place should be regarded in an equal light." "'Yudhishthira said, "It is true that we should make gifts unto others without afflicting anyone and without doing violence to the ordinances of the scriptures. One should, however, correctly ascertain who the person is that should be regarded as a proper object for making gifts. He should be such that the gift itself, by being made over to him, may not grieve."[269] "'Bhishma said, "If the Ritwik, the Purohita, the preceptor, the Acharya, the disciple, the relative (by marriage), and kinsmen, happen to be possessed of learning and free from malice, then should they be deemed worthy of respect and worship. Those persons that do not possess such qualifications cannot be regarded as worthy of gifts or hospitality. Hence, one should with deliberation examine persons with whom one comes into contact. Absence of wrath, truthfulness of speech, abstention from injury, sincerity, peacefulness of conduct, the absence of pride, modesty, renunciation, self-restraint, and tranquillity or contentment of soul, he in whom these occur by nature, and in whom there are no wicked acts, should be regarded as a proper object. Such a person deserves honours. Whether the person be one who is well-known and familiar, or one who has come newly, whether he has not been seen before, if he happens to possess these qualifications, he should be regarded as worthy of honours and hospitality. He who denies the authority of the Vedas, or strives to show that the scriptures should be disregarded, or approves of all breaches of restraint in society,--simply brings about his own ruin (and should not be regarded as worthy of gifts). That Brahmana who is vain of his learning, who speaks ill of the Vedas or who is devoted to the science of useless disputation, or who is desirous of gaining victory (in disputations) in assemblies of good men by disproving the reasons that exist for morality and religion and ascribing everything to chance, or who indulges in censuring and reproaching others or who reproves Brahmanas, or who is suspicious of all persons, or who is foolish and bereft of judgment, or who is bitter of speech, should be known to be as hateful as a dog. As a dog encounters others, barking the while and seeking to bite, such a person is even so, for he spends his breath in vain and seeks to destroy the authority of all the scriptures. Those practices that support society, the duties of righteousness, and all those acts which are productive of benefit to one's own self, should be attended to. A person that lives, attending to these, grows in prosperity for everlasting time. By paying off the debt one owes to the deities by performing sacrifices, that to the Rishis by studying the Vedas, that to the Pitris by procreating children, that to the Brahmanas by making presents unto them and that to guests by feeding them, in due order, and with purity of intention, and properly attending to the ordinances of the scriptures, a householder does not fall away from righteousness."'"[270] SECTION XXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O best of the Bharatas, I wish to hear thee discourse on the disposition of women. Women are said to be the root of all evil. They are all regarded as exceedingly frail." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old history of the discourse between the celestial Rishi Narada and the (celestial) courtezan Panchachuda. Once in ancient times, the celestial Rishi Narada, having roamed over all the world, met the Apsara Panchachuda of faultless beauty, having her abode in the region of Brahman. Beholding the Apsara every limb of whose body was endued with great beauty, the ascetic addressed her, saying, 'O thou of slender waist, I have a doubt in my mind. Do thou explain it.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the Rishi, the Apsara said unto him, 'If the subject is one which is known to me and if thou thinkest me competent to speak on it, I shall certainly say what is in my mind.' "'"Narada said, 'O amiable one, I shall not certainly appoint thee to any task that is beyond thy competence. O thou of beautiful face, I wish to hear from thee of the disposition of women.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the celestial Rishi, that foremost of Apsaras replied unto him, saying, 'I am unable, being myself a woman, to speak ill of women. Thou knowest what women are and with what nature they are endued. It behoveth thee not, O celestial Rishi, to set me to such a task.' Unto her the celestial Rishi said, 'It is very true, O thou of slender waist! One incurs fault by speaking what is untrue. In saying, however, what is true, there can be no fault.' Thus addressed by him, the Apsara Panchachuda of sweet smiles consented to answer Narada's question. She then addressed herself to mention what the true and eternal faults of women are. "'"Panchachuda said, 'Even if high-born and endued with beauty and possessed of protectors, women wish to transgress the restraints assigned to them. This fault truly stains them, O Narada! There is nothing else that is more sinful than women. Verily, women are the root of all faults. That is certainly known to thee, O Narada! Women, even when possessed of husbands having fame and wealth, of handsome features and completely obedient to them, are prepared to disregard them if they get the opportunity. This, O puissant one, is a sinful disposition with us women that, casting off modesty, we cultivate the companionship of men of sinful habits and intentions. Women betray a liking for those men who court them, who approach their presence, and who respectfully serve them to even a slight extent. Through want of solicitation by persons of the other sex, or fear of relatives, women, who are naturally impatient of all restraints, do not transgress those that have been ordained for them, and remain by the side of their husbands. There is none whom they are incapable of admitting to their favours. They never take into consideration the age of the person they are prepared to favour. Ugly or handsome, if only the person happens to belong to the opposite sex, women are ready to enjoy his companionship. That women remain faithful to their lords is due not to their fear of sin, nor to compassion, nor to wealth, nor to the affection that springs up in their hearts for kinsmen and children. Women living in the bosom of respectable families envy the condition of those members of their sex that are young and well-adorned with jewels and gems and that lead a free life. Even those women that are loved by their husbands and treated with great respect, are seen to bestow their favours upon men that are hump-backed, that are blind, that are idiots, or that are dwarfs. Women may be seen to like the companionship of even those men that are destitute of the power of locomotion or those men that are endued with great ugliness of features. O great Rishi, there is no man in this world whom women may regard as unfit for companionship. Through inability to obtain persons of the opposite sex, or fear of relatives, or fear of death and imprisonment, women remain, of themselves, within the restraints prescribed for them. They are exceedingly restless, for they always hanker after new companions. In consequence of their nature being unintelligible, they are incapable of being kept in obedience by affectionate treatment. Their disposition is such that they are incapable of being restrained when bent upon transgression. Verily, women are like the words uttered by the wise.[271] Fire is never satiated with fuel. Ocean can never be filled with the waters that rivers bring unto him. The Destroyer is never satiated with slaying even all living creatures. Similarly, women are never satiated with men. This, O celestial Rishi, is another mystery connected with women. As soon as they see a man of handsome and charming features, unfailing signs of desire appear on their persons. They never show sufficient regard for even such husbands as accomplish all their wishes, as always do what is agreeable to them and as protect them from want and danger. Women never regard so highly even articles of enjoyment in abundance or ornaments or other possessions of an agreeable kind as they do the companionship of persons of the opposite sex. The destroyer, the deity of wind, death, the nether legions, the equine mouth that roves through the ocean, vomiting ceaseless flames of fire, the sharpness of the razor, virulent poison, the snake, and Fire--all these exist in a state of union in women. That eternal Brahman whence the five great elements have sprung into existence, whence the Creator Brahma hath ordained the universe, and whence, indeed, men have sprung, verily from the same eternal source have women sprung into existence. At that time, again, O Narada, when women were created, these faults that I have enumerated were planted in them!'"'" SECTION XXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "All men, O king, in this world, are seen to attach themselves to women, overcome by the illusion that is created by the divine Being. Similarly, women too are seen to attach themselves to men. All this is seen taking place everywhere in the world. On this subject a doubt exists in my mind. Why, O delighter of the Kurus, do men (when women are stained with so many faults) still attach themselves to women? Who, again, are those men with whom women are highly pleased and who are they with whom they are displeased? It behoveth thee, O chief of men, to explain to me how men are capable of protecting women? While men take pleasure in women and sport with them, women, it seems, are engaged in deceiving men. Then, again, if a man once falls into their hands, it is difficult for him to escape from them. Like kine ever seeking pastures new women seek new men one after another. That illusion which the Asura Samvara possessed, that illusion which the Asura Namuchi possessed, that illusion which Vali or Kumbbinasi had, the sum total thereof is possessed by women. If man laughs, women laugh. If man weeps, they weep. If the opportunity requires, they receive the man that is disagreeable to them with agreeable words. That science of policy which the preceptor of the Asuras knew, that science of policy which the preceptor of the celestials, Vrihaspati, knew, cannot be regarded to be deeper or more distinguished for subtility than what woman's intelligence naturally brings forth. Verily how can women, therefore, be restrained by men? They make a lie appear as truth, and a truth appear as a lie. They who can do this,--I ask, O hero,--how can they be ruled by persons of the opposite sex? It seems to me that Vrihaspati and other great thinkers, O slayer of foes, evolved the science of policy from observation of the understandings of women. Whether treated by men with respect or with disdain, women are seen to turn the heads and agitate the hearts of men.[272] Living creatures, O thou of mighty arms, are virtuous. Even this is what has been heard by us. (How then, can this be consistent with fact)? For treated with affection and respect or otherwise, women (forming a fair portion of living creatures) are seen to deserve censure for their conduct towards men.[273] This great doubt fills my mind, viz., when their behaviour is such, what man is there that can restrain them within the bounds of righteousness? Do thou explain this to me, O highly blessed scion of Kuru's race! It behoves thee to tell me, O chief of Kuru's race, whether women are truly capable of being restrained within the bonds prescribed by the scriptures or whether any one before our time did really succeed in so restraining them."'" SECTION XL "'Bhishma said, "It is even so as thou sayest, O thou of mighty arms. There is nothing untrue in all this that thou sayest, O thou of Kuru's race, on the subject of women. In this connection I shall recite to thee the old history of how in days of yore the high-souled Vipula had succeeded in restraining women within the bounds laid down for them. I shall also tell thee, O king, how women were created by the Grandsire Brahman and the object for which they were created by Him. There is no creature more sinful, O son, than women. Woman is a blazing fire. She is the illusion, O king, that the Daitya Maya created. She is the sharp edge of the razor. She is poison. She is a snake. She is fire. She is, verily, all these united together. It has been heard by us that all persons of the human race are characterised by righteousness, and that they, in course of natural progress and improvement, attain to the status of deities. This circumstance alarmed the deities. They, therefore, O chastiser of foes, assembled together and repaired to the presence of the Grandsire. Informing him of what was in their minds, they stood silent in his presence, with downcast eyes. The puissant Grandsire having ascertained what was in the hearts of the deities, created women, with the aid of an Atharvan rite. In a former creation, O son of Kunti, women were all virtuous. Those, however, that sprang from this creation by Brahman with the aid of an illusion became sinful. The grandsire bestowed upon them the desire of enjoyment, all kinds of carnal pleasure. Tempted by the desire of enjoyment, they began to pursue persons of the other sex. The puissant lord of the deities created Wrath as the companion of Lust. Persons of the male sex, yielding to the power of Lust and Wrath, sought the companionship of women. Women have no especial acts prescribed for them. Even this is the ordinance that was laid down. The Sruti declares that women are endued with senses the most powerful, that they have no scriptures to follow, and that they are living lies. Beds and seats and ornaments and food and drink and the absence of all that is respectable and righteous, indulgence in disagreeable words, and love of sexual companionship,--these were bestowed by Brahman upon women. Men are quite unable to restrain them within bounds. The Creator himself is incapable of restraining them within the limits that are proper: what need then be said of men? This, O chief of men, I heard in former days, viz., how Vipula had succeeded in protecting his preceptor's spouse in ancient times. There was in days of yore a highly blessed Rishi of the name of Devasarman of great celebrity. He had a wife, Ruchi by name, who was unequalled on earth for beauty. Her loveliness intoxicated every beholder among the deities and Gandharvas and Danavas. The chastiser of Paka, viz., Indra, the slayer of Vritra, O monarch, was in particular enamoured of her and coveted her person. The great ascetic Devasarman was fully cognisant of the disposition of women. He, therefore, to the best of his power and energy, protected her (from every kind of evil influence). The Rishi knew that Indra was restrained by no scruples in the matter of seeking the companionship of other people's wives. It was for this reason that he used to protect his spouse, putting forth all his power. Once on a time, O son, the Rishi became desirous of performing a sacrifice. He began to think of how (during his own absence from home) his wife could be protected. Endued with high ascetic merit, he at last hit upon the course he should adopt. Summoning his favourite disciple whose name was Vipula and who was of Bhrigu's race, he said as follows: "'"Devasarman said, 'I shall leave home (for a while) in order to perform a sacrifice. The chief of the celestials always covets this Ruchi of mine. Do thou, during my absence, protect her, putting forth all thy might! Thou shalt pass thy time heedfully in view of Purandara. O foremost one of Bhrigu's race, that Indra assumes various disguises.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by his preceptor, the ascetic Vipula with senses under control, always engaged in severe penances, possessed of the splendour, O king, of fire or the sun conversant with all the duties of righteousness, and ever truthful in speech, answered him, saying, 'So be it.' Once more, however, as his preceptor was about to set out Vipula asked him in these words. "'"Vipula said, 'Tell me, O Muni, what forms does Sakra assume when he presents himself? Of what kind is his body and what is his energy? It behoveth thee to say all this to me.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The illustrious Rishi then truly described unto the high-souled Vipula all the illusions of Sakra, O Bharata. "'"Devasarman said, 'The puissant chastiser of Paka, O regenerate Rishi, is full of illusion. Every moment he assumes those forms that he chooses. Sometimes he wears a diadem and holds the thunderbolt. Sometimes armed with the thunderbolt and wearing a crown on his head, he adorns himself with ear-rings, in a moment he transforms himself into the shape and aspect of Chandala. Sometimes, he appears with coronal locks on his head: soon again, O son, he shows himself with matted locks, his person clad the while in rags. Sometimes, he assumes a goodly and gigantic frame. The next moment he transforms himself into one of emaciated limbs, and dressed in rags. Sometimes he becomes fair, sometimes darkish, sometimes dark of complexion. Sometimes he becomes ugly and sometimes as possessed of great comeliness of person. Sometimes he shows himself as young and sometimes as old. Sometimes he appears as a Brahmana, sometimes as a Kshatriya, sometimes as a Vaisya, and sometimes as a Sudra. Verily, he of a hundred sacrifices appears at times as a person born of impure order, that is as the son of a superior father by an inferior mother or of an inferior father by a superior mother. Sometimes he appears as a parrot, sometimes as a crow, sometimes as a swan, and sometimes as a cuckoo. He assumes the forms also of a lion, a tiger, or an elephant. Sometimes he shows himself as a god, sometimes as a Daitya, and sometimes he assumes the guise of a king. Sometimes he appears as fat and plump. Sometimes as one whose limbs have been broken by the action of disordered wind in the system, sometimes as a bird, and sometimes as one of exceedingly ugly features. Sometimes he appears as a quadruped. Capable of assuming any form, he sometimes appears as an idiot destitute of all intelligence. He assumes also the forms of flies and gnats. O Vipula, no one can make him out in consequence of these innumerable disguises that he is capable of assuming. The very Creator of the universe is not equal to that feat. He makes himself invisible when he chooses. He is incapable of being seen except with the eye of knowledge. The chief of the celestials sometimes transforms himself into the wind. The chastiser of Paka always assumes these disguises. Do thou, therefore, O Vipula, protect this slender-waisted spouse of mine with great care. O foremost one of Bhrigu's race, do thou take every care for seeing that the chief of the celestials may not defile this spouse of mine like a wretched dog licking the Havi kept in view of a sacrifice.' Having said these words, the highly-blessed Muni, viz., Devasarman, intent upon performing a sacrifice, set out from his abode, O chief of the Bharatas. Hearing these words of his preceptor, Vipula began to think, 'I shall certainly protect this lady in every respect from the puissant chief of the celestials. But what should be the means? What can I do in this matter of protecting the wife of my preceptor? The chief of the celestials is endued with large powers of illusion. Possessed of great energy, he is difficult of being resisted. Indra cannot be kept out by enclosing this retreat of ours or fencing this yard, since he is capable of assuming innumerable forms. Assuming the form of the wind, the chief of the celestials may assault the spouse of my preceptor. The best course, therefore, for me, would be to enter (by Yoga-power) the body of this lady and remain there. By putting forth my prowess I shall not be able to protect the lady, for the puissant chastiser of Paka, it has been heard by me, is capable of assuming any form he likes. I shall, therefore, protect this one from Indra by my Yoga-power. For carrying out my object I shall with my body enter the body of this lady. If my preceptor, coming back, beholds his spouse defiled, he will, without doubt, curse me through wrath, for endued with great ascetic merit, he is possessed of spiritual vision. This lady is incapable of being protected in the way in which other women are protected by men, since the chief of the celestials is endued with large powers of illusion. Alas, the situation in which I find myself is very critical. The behest of my preceptor should certainly be obeyed by me. If, therefore, I protect her by my Yoga-power, the feat will be regarded by all as a wonderful one. By my Yoga-power, therefore, I shall enter the body of my preceptor's lady. I shall stay within her and yet not touch her person, like a drop of water on a lotus-leaf which lies on it and yet does not drench it at all. If I be free from the taint of passion, I cannot incur any fault by doing what I wish to do. As a traveller, in course of his sojourn, takes up his residence (for a while) in any empty mansion he finds, I shall, after the same manner, reside this day within the body of my preceptor's lady. Verily, with mind rapt up in Yoga, I shall dwell today in this lady's body!' Giving his best consideration to these points of righteousness, thinking of all the Vedas and their branches, and with eye directed to the large measure of penances which his preceptor had and which he himself also was possessed of, and having settled in his mind, with a view only to protect the lady, to enter her person by Yoga-power. Vipula of Bhrigu's race took great care (for accomplishing his purpose). Listen now to me, O monarch, as I recite to thee what he did. Endued with great penances, Vipula sat himself down by the side of his preceptor's spouse as she of faultless features was sitting in her cottage. Vipula then began to discourse to her bringing her over to the cause of righteousness and truth. Directing his eyes then to hers and uniting the rays of light that emanated from her organs of vision with those that issued from his, Vipula (in his subtile form) entered the lady's body even as the element of wind enters that of ether of space. Penetrating her eyes with his eyes and her face with his face, Vipula stayed, without moving, within her invisibly, like her shadow. Restraining every part of the lady's body, Vipula continued to dwell within her, intent on protecting her from Indra. The lady herself knew nothing of this. It was in this way, O monarch, that Vipula continued to protect the lady till the time of his high-souled preceptor's coming back after accomplishing the sacrifice which he had gone out to perform."'" SECTION XLI "'Bhishma said, "One day the chief of the celestials assuming a form of celestial beauty, came to the retreat of the Rishi, thinking that the opportunity he had been expecting had at last come. Verily, O king, having assumed a form unrivalled for comeliness and exceedingly tempting to women and highly agreeable to look at, Indra entered the ascetic's asylum. He saw the body of Vipula staying in a sitting posture, immovable as a stake, and with eyes destitute of vision, like a picture drawn on the canvas. And he saw also that Ruchi was seated there, adorned with eyes whose ends were extremely beautiful, possessed of full and rotund hips, and having a deep and swelling bosom. Her eyes were large and expansive like the petals of the lotus, and her face was as beautiful and sweet as the moon at full. Seeing Indra come in that guise, the lady wished to rise up and offer him a welcome. Her wonder having been excited at the unrivalled beauty of form which the person possessed, she very much wished to ask him as to who he was. Although, however, she wished to rise up and offer him a welcome, yet her limbs having been restrained by Vipula who was dwelling within her, she failed, O king, to do what she wished. In fact, she was unable to move from the place where she sat. The chief of the celestials then addressed her in agreeable words uttered with a sweet voice. Indeed, he said, 'O thou of sweet smiles, know that I am Indra, arrived here for thy sake! Know, O sweet lady, that I am afflicted by the deity of desire provoked by thoughts of thee! O thou of beautiful brows, I have come to thy presence. Time wears off.'[274] These words that Indra spoke were heard by the ascetic Vipula. Remaining within the body of his preceptor's wife, he saw everything that occurred. The lady of faultless beauty, though she heard what Indra said, was, however, unable to rise up for welcoming or honouring the chief of the celestials. Her senses restrained by Vipula, she was unable to utter a word in reply. That scion of Bhrigu's race, of mighty energy, judging from the indications afforded by the body of his preceptor's wife that she was not unwilling to receive Indra with kindness, restrained her limbs and senses all the more effectually, O king, by his Yoga-powers. With Yoga-bonds he bound up all her senses. Beholding her seated without any indication of agitation on her person, the lord of Sachi, abashed a little, once more addressed that lady who was stupefied by the Yoga-powers of her husband's disciple, in these words, 'Come, come, O sweet lady!' Then the lady endeavoured to answer him. Vipula, however restrained the words that she intended to utter. The words, therefore, that actually escaped her lips (under the influence of Vipula) were. 'What is the reason of thy coming hither?' These words adorned with grammatical refinements, issued out of her mouth that was as beautiful as the moon.[275] Subject to the influence of another, she uttered these words, but became rather ashamed for uttering them. Hearing her, Purandara became exceedingly cheerless. Observing that awkward result, the chief of the celestials, O monarch, adorned with a thousand eyes saw every thing with his spiritual eye. He then beheld the ascetic staying within the body of the lady. Indeed, the ascetic remained within the body of his preceptor's wife like an image or reflection on a mirror. Beholding the ascetic endued with the terrible might of penances, Purandara, O monarch, fearing the Rishi's curse, trembled in fright. Vipula then, possessed of high ascetic might, left the body of his preceptor's wife and returned to his own body that was lying near. He then addressed the terrified Indra in the following words: "'"Vipula said, 'O wicked-souled Purandara, O thou of sinful mind, O wretch that hast no control over thy senses, neither the deities nor human beings will worship thee for any length of time! Hast thou forgotten it, O Sakra,--does it not still dwell in thy remembrance,--that Gautama had cursed thee in consequence of which thy body became disfigured with a thousand sex-marks, which, owing to the Rishi's compassion, were afterwards changed into organs of vision? I know that thou art of an exceedingly foolish understanding, that thy soul is uncleansed, and that thou art of an exceedingly unstable mind! O fool, know that this lady is being protected by me. O sinful wretch, go back to that place whence thou camest. O thou of foolish soul, I do not consume thee today into ashes with my energy. Verily, I am filled with compassion for thee. It is for this that I do not, O Vasava, wish to burn thee. My preceptor, endued with great intelligence, is possessed of terrible might. With eyes blazing with wrath, he would, if he saw thee, have burnt thy sinful self today. Thou shouldst not, O Sakra, do like this again. The Brahmanas should be regarded by thee. See that thou dost not, with thy sons and counsellors, meet with destruction, afflicted by the might of the Brahmanas. Thou thinkest that thou art an immortal and that, therefore, art at liberty to proceed in this way. Do not, however, disregard the Brahmanas. Know that there is nothing unattainable by penance.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the high-souled Vipula, Sakra without saying anything, and overwhelmed with shame, made himself invisible. A moment after he had gone away, Devasarman of high ascetic merit, having accomplished the sacrifice he had intended to perform, came back to his own asylum. When his preceptor came back, Vipula, who had done an agreeable deed, gave unto him his wife of faultless beauty whom he had successfully protected against the machinations of Indra. Of tranquil soul and full of reverence for his preceptor, Vipula respectfully saluted him and stood in his presence with a fearless heart. After his preceptor had rested a while and when he was seated with his wife on the same seat, Vipula represented unto him everything that Sakra had done. Hearing these words of Vipula, that foremost of Munis, endued with great prowess, became highly gratified with him for his conduct and disposition, his penances, and his observances. Observing Vipula's conduct towards himself--his preceptor--and his devotion also, and noting his steadiness in virtue, the puissant Devasarman exclaimed, 'Excellent, excellent!' The righteous-souled Devasarman, receiving his virtuous disciple with a sincere welcome, honoured him with a boon. Indeed, Vipula, steady in virtue obtained from his preceptor the boon that he would never swerve or fall away from righteousness. Dismissed by his preceptor he left his abode and practised the most severe austerities. Devasarman also, of severe penances, with his spouse, began from that day to live in those solitary woods, perfectly fearless of him who had slain Vala and Vritra."'" SECTION XLII "'Bhishma said, "Having accomplished his preceptor's behest, Vipula practised the most severe penances. Possessed of great energy, he at last regarded himself as endued with sufficient ascetic merit, Priding himself upon the feat he had achieved, he wandered fearlessly and contentedly over the earth, O monarch, regarded by all as one possessed of great fame for what he had done. The puissant Bhargava regarded that he had conquered both the worlds by that feat of his as also by his severe penances. After some time had passed away, O delighter of the Kurus, the occasion came for a ceremony of gifts to take place with respect to the sister of Ruchi. Abundant wealth and corn were to be given away in it.[276] Meanwhile, a certain celestial damsel endued with great beauty, was journeying through the skies. From her body as she coursed through the welkin, some flowers dropped down on the earth. Those flowers possessed of celestial fragrance fell on a spot not far from the retreat of Ruchi's husband. As the flowers lay scattered on the ground, they were picked up by Ruchi of beautiful eyes. Soon after an invitation came to Ruchi from the country of the Angas. The sister, referred to above, of Ruchi, named Prabhavati, was the spouse of Chitraratha, the ruler of the Angas. Ruchi, of very superior complexion, having attached those flowers to her hair, went to the palace of the king of the Angas in answer to the invitation she had received. Beholding those flowers on her hair the queen of the Angas, possessed of beautiful eyes, urged her sister to obtain some for her. Ruchi, of beautiful face, speedily informed her husband of that request of her sister. The Rishi accepted the prayer of his sister-in-law. Summoning Vipula into his presence Devasarman of severe penances commanded his disciple to bring him some flowers of the same kind, saying, 'Go, go!' Accepting without hesitation the behest of his preceptor, the great ascetic Vipula, O king, answered, 'So be it!' and then proceeded to that spot whence the lady Ruchi had picked up the flowers that were coveted by her sister. Arrived at that spot where the flowers (picked up by Ruchi) had fallen from the welkin, Vipula saw some others still lying scattered. They were all as fresh as if they had been newly plucked from the plants whereon they had grown. None of them had drooped in the least. He took up those celestial flowers of great beauty. Possessed of celestial fragrance, O Bharata, Vipula got them there as the result of his severe penances. The accomplisher of his preceptor's behest, having obtained them, he felt great delight and set out speedily for the city of Champa adorned with festoons of Champaka flowers. As he proceeded, he saw on his way a human couple moving in a circle hand in hand. One of them made a rapid step and thereby destroyed the cadence of the movement. For this reason, O king, a dispute arose between them. Indeed, one of them charged the other, saying, 'Thou hast made a quicker step!' The other answered, 'No, verily', as each maintained his own opinion obstinately, each, O king, asserted what the other denied, and denied what the other asserted. While thus disputing with each other with great assurance, an oath was then heard among them. Indeed, each of them suddenly named Vipula in what they uttered. The oath each of them took was even this, 'That one amongst us two who speaketh falsely, shall in the next world, meet with the end which will be the regenerate Vipula's!' Hearing these words of theirs, Vipula's face became very cheerless. He began to reflect, saying unto himself, 'I have undergone severe penances. The dispute between this couple is hot. To me, again, it is painful. What is the sin of which I have been guilty that both these persons should refer to my end in the next world as the most painful one among those reserved for all creatures?' Thinking in this strain, Vipula, O best of monarchs, hung down his head, and with a cheerless mind began to recollect what sin he had done. Proceeding a little way he beheld six other men playing with dice made of gold and silver. Engaged in play, those individuals seemed to him to be so excited that the hair on their bodies stood on end. They also (upon a dispute having arisen among them) were heard by Vipula to take the same oath that he had already heard the first couple to take. Indeed, their words had reference in the same way to Vipula, 'He amongst us who, led by cupidity, will act in an improper way, shall meet with that end which is reserved for Vipula in the next world!' Hearing these words, however, Vipula, although he strove earnestly to recollect failed to remember any transgression of his from even his earliest years, O thou of Kuru's race. Verily he began to burn like a fire placed in the midst of another fire. Hearing that curse, his mind burnt with grief. In this state of anxiety a long time elapsed. At last he recollected the manner in which he had acted in protecting his preceptor's wife from the machinations of Indra. 'I had penetrated the body of that lady, placing limb within limb, face within face, Although I had acted in this way, I did not yet tell my preceptor the truth!' Even this was the transgression, O thou of Kuru's race which Vipula recollected in himself. Indeed, O blessed monarch, without doubt that was the transgression which he had actually committed. Coming to the city of Champa, he gave the flowers to his preceptor. Devoted to superiors and seniors, he worshipped his preceptor in due form."'" SECTION XLIII "'Bhishma said, "Beholding his disciple returned from his mission, Devasarman of great energy addressed him in words which I shall recite to thee O king! "'"Davasarman said, 'What hast thou seen, O Vipula, in course of thy progress, O disciple, through the great forest? They whom thou hast seen knew thee, O Vipula. I, as also my spouse Ruchi, know how thou hadst acted in the matter of protecting Ruchi.' "'"Vipula said, 'O regenerate Rishi, who are those two whom I first saw? Who also are those other six whom I saw subsequently? All of them know me: who, indeed, are they to whom thou alludest in thy speech to me?' "'"Devasarman said, 'The first couple, O regenerate one, whom thou sawest, are Day and Night. They are ceaselessly moving like a circle. Both of them know the transgression of which thou hast been guilty, those other men (six in number) whom, O learned Brahmana, thou sawest playing cheerfully at dice, are the six Seasons. They also are acquainted with thy transgressions. Having committed a sin in secrecy, no sinful man should cherish the assuring thought that his transgression is known only to himself and not to any one else. When a man perpetrates a sinful deed in secret, the Seasons as also Day and Night behold it always. Those regions that are reserved for the sinful shall be thine (for what thou hast done). What thou hadst done thou didst not tell me. That thy sin was not known to any one, was thy belief, and this conviction had filled thee with joy. Thou didst not inform the preceptor of the whole truth, choosing to hide from him a material portion. The Seasons, and Day and Night, whom thou hast heard speak in that strain, thought it proper to remind thee of thy transgression. Day and Night and the Seasons are ever conversant of all the good and the bad deeds that are in a man. They spoke to thee in that way, O regenerate one, because they have full knowledge of what thou hadst done but which thou hadst not the courage to inform me of, fearing thou hadst done wrong. For this reason those regions that are reserved for the sinful will be thine as much. Thou didst not tell me what thou hadst done. Thou wert fully capable, O regenerate one, of protecting my spouse whose disposition by nature is sinful. In doing what thou didst, thou didst not commit any sin. I was, for this, gratified with thee! O best of Brahmanas, if I had known thee to have acted wickedly, I would without hesitation, have cursed thee. Women become united with men. Such union is very desirable with men. Thou hadst, however, protected my wife in a different spirit. If thou hadst acted otherwise, a curse would have been uttered upon thee. Even this is what I think. Thou hadst O son, protected my spouse. The manner in which thou didst it hath now become known to me as if thou hadst thyself informed me of it. I have, O son, become gratified with thee. Relieved of all anxiety, thou shalt go to heaven!' Having said these words unto Vipula, the great Rishi Devasarman, ascended to heaven with his wife and his disciple and began to pass his time there in great happiness. In course of conversation, O king, on a former occasion, the great ascetic Markandeya had narrated to me this history on the banks of the Ganga. I, therefore, recite to thee. Women should always be protected by thee (from temptations and opportunities of every kind). Amongst them both kinds are to be seen, that is, those that are virtuous and those that are not so. Those women that are virtuous are highly blessed. They are the mothers of the universe (for they it is that cherish all creatures on every side). They it is, O king, that uphold the earth with all her waters and forests. Those women that are sinful, that are of wicked behaviour, that are the destroyers of their races, and that are wedded to sinful resolves, are capable of being ascertained by indications, expressive of the evil that is in them, which appear, O king, on their bodies. It is even thus that high-souled persons are capable of protecting women. They cannot, O tiger among kings, be protected in any other way. Women, O chief of men, are fierce. They are endued with fierce prowess. They have none whom they love or like so much as they that have sexual congress with them. Women are like those (Atharvan) incantations that are destructive of life. Even after they have consented to live with one, they are prepared to abandon him for entering into engagements with others. They are never satisfied with one person of the opposite sex, O son of Pandu! Men should feel no affection for them. Nor should they entertain any jealousy on account of them. O king, having a regard only for the considerations of virtue, men should enjoy their society, not with enthusiasm and attachment but with reluctance and absence of attachment. By acting otherwise, a man is sure to meet with destruction, O delighter of the Kurus. Reason is respected at all times and under all circumstances. Only one man, viz., Vipula, had succeeded in protecting woman. There is none else, O king, in the three worlds who is capable of protecting women."'" SECTION XLIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me of that, O grandsire, which is the root of all duties, which is the root of kinsmen, of home, of the Pitris and of guests. I think this should be regarded as the foremost of all duties, (viz., the marriage of one's daughter). Tell me, however, O king, upon what sort of a person should one bestow one's daughter?" "'Bhishma said, "Having enquired into the conduct and disposition of the person, his learning and acquirements, his birth, and his acts, good people should then bestow their daughter upon accomplished bridegrooms. All righteous Brahmanas, O Yudhishthira, act in this way (in the matter of the bestowal of their daughters). This is known as the Brahma marriage, O Yudhishthira! Selecting an eligible bridegroom, the father of the girl should cause him to marry his daughter, having, by presents of diverse kinds, induced the bridegroom to that act. This form of marriage constitutes the eternal practice of all good Kshatriyas. When the father of the girl, disregarding his own wishes, bestows his daughter upon a person whom the daughter likes and who reciprocates the girl's sentiments, the form of marriage, O Yudhishthira, is called Gandharva by those that are conversant with the Vedas. The wise have said this, O king, to be the practice of the Asuras, viz., wedding a girl after purchasing her at a high cost and after gratifying the cupidity of her kinsmen. Slaying and cutting off the heads of weeping kinsmen, the bridegroom sometimes forcibly takes away the girl he would wed. Such wedding, O son, is called by the name of Rakshasa. Of these five (the Brahma, the Kshatra, the Gandharva, the Asura, and the Rakshasa), three are righteous, O Yudhishthira, and two are unrighteous. The Paisacha and the Asura forms should never be resorted to.[277] The Brahma, Kshatra, and Gandharva forms are righteous, O prince of men! Pure or mixed, these forms should be resorted to, without doubt. A Brahmana can take three wives. A Kshatriya can take two wives. As regards the Vaisya, he should take a wife from only his own order. The children born of these wives should all be regarded as equal.[278] Of the three wives of a Brahmana, she taken from his own order should be regarded as the foremost. Similarly, of the two wives permitted to the Kshatriya, she taken from his own order should be regarded as superior. Some say that persons belonging to the three higher orders may take, only for purposes of enjoyment (and not for those of virtue), wives from the lowest or the Sudra order. Others, however, forbid the practice. "'"The righteous condemn the practice of begetting issue upon Sudra women. A Brahmana, by begetting children upon a Sudra woman, incurs the liability of performing an expiation. A person of thirty years of age should wed a girl of ten years of age called a Nagnika.[279] Or, a person of one and twenty years of age should wed a girl of seven years of age. That girl who has no brother nor father should not be wed, O chief of Bharata's race, for she may be intended as Putrika of her sire.[280] After the appearance of puberty, the girl (if not married) should wait for three years. On the fourth year, she should look for a husband herself (without waiting any longer for her kinsmen to select one for her). The offspring of such a girl do not lose their respectability, nor does union with such a girl become disgraceful. If, instead of selecting a husband for herself, she acts otherwise, she incurs the reproach of Prajapati herself. One should wed that girl who is not a Sapinda of one's mother or of the same Gotra with one's father. Even this is the usage (consistent with the sacred law) which Manu has declared."[281] "'Yudhishthira said, "Desirous of marriage someone actually gives a dower to the girl's kinsmen; someone says, the girl's kinsmen consenting promises to give a dower; someone says, 'I shall abduct the girl by force;' someone simply displays his wealth (to the girl's kinsmen, intending to offer a portion thereof as dower for her); someone, again, actually takes the hand of the girl with rites of wedding. I ask thee, O grandsire, whose wife does the girl actually become? Unto its that are desirous of knowing the truth, thou art the eye with which to behold." "'Bhishma said, "Whatever acts of men have been approved or settled in consultation by the wise, are seen to be productive of good. False speech, however, is always sinful.[282] The girl herself that becomes wife, the sons born of her, the Ritwiks and preceptors and disciples and Upadhyayas present at the marriage all become liable to expiation if the girl bestow her hand upon a person other than he whom she had promised to wed. Some are of opinion that no expiation is necessary for such conduct. Manu does not applaud the practice of a girl living with a person whom she does not like.[283] Living as wife with a person whom she does not like, leads to disgrace and sin. No one incurs much sin in any of these cases that follow. In forcibly abducting for marriage a girl that is bestowed upon the abductor by the girl's kinsmen, with due rites, as also a girl for whom dower has been paid and accepted, there is no great sin. Upon the girl's kinsmen having expressed their consent, Mantras and Homa should be resorted to. Such Mantras truly accomplish their purpose. Mantras and Homa recited and performed in the case of a girl that has not been bestowed by her kinsmen, do not accomplish their purpose. The engagement made by the kinsmen of a girl is, no doubt, binding and sacred. But the engagement that is entered into by the wedder and wedded, with the aid of Mantras, is very much more so (for it is this engagement that really creates the relationship of husband and wife). According to the dictates of the scriptures, the husband should regard his wife as an acquisition due to his own acts of a previous life or to what has been ordained by God. One, therefore, incurs no reproach by accepting for wife a girl that had been promised to another by her kinsmen or for whom dower had been accepted by them from another." "'Yudhishthira said, "When after the receipt of dower for a girl, the girl's sire sees a more eligible person present himself for her hand,--one, that is who is endued with the aggregate of Three in judicious proportions, does the girl's sire incur reproach by rejecting the person from whom dower had been received in favour of him that is more eligible? In such a case either alternative seems to be fraught with fault, for to discard the person to whom the girl has been promised can never be honourable, while to reject the person that is more eligible can never be good (considering the solemn obligation there is of bestowing one's daughter on the most eligible person). I ask, how should the sire conduct himself so that he might be said to do that which is beneficial? To us, of all duties this seems to demand the utmost measure of deliberation. We are desirous of ascertaining the truth. Thou, indeed, art our eyes! Do thou explain this to us. I am never satiated with listening to thee!" "'Bhishma said, "The gift of the dower does not cause the status of wife to attach to the girl. This is well-known to the person paying it. He pays it simply as the price of the girl. Then again they that are good never bestow their daughters, led by the dowers that others may offer. When the person desirous of wedding happens to be endued with such qualities as do not go down with the girl's kinsmen, it is then that kinsmen demand dower from him. That person, however, who won over by another's accomplishments, addresses him, saying, 'Do thou wed my girl, adorning her with proper ornaments of gold and gems,'--and that person who complies with this request, cannot be said to demand dower or give it, for such a transaction is not really a sale. The bestowal of a daughter upon acceptance of what may strictly be regarded as gifts (of affection or love) is the eternal practice. In matters of marriage some fathers say, 'I shall not bestow my daughter upon such and such a person;' some say, 'I shall bestow my daughter upon such a one.'--Some again say with vehemence, 'I must bestow my daughter upon such an individual.' These declarations do not amount to actual marriage. People are seen to solicit one another for the hands of maidens (and promise and retreat). Till the hand is actually taken with due rites, marriage cannot be said to take place. It has been heard by us that even this was the boon granted to men in days of old by the Maruts in respect of maidens[284]. The Rishis have laid the command upon all men that maidens should never be bestowed upon persons unless the latter happen to be most fit or eligible. The daughter is the root of desire and of descendants of the collateral line. Even this is what I think.[285] The practice has been known to human beings from a long time,--the practice, of sale and purchase of the daughter. In consequence of such familiarity with the practice, thou mayst be able, upon careful examination, to find innumerable faults in it. The gift or acceptance of dower alone could not be regarded as creating the status of husband and wife. Listen to what I say on this head. "'"Formerly, having defeated all the Magadhas, the Kasis, and the Kosalas, I brought away by force two maidens for Vichitravirya. One of those two maidens was wedded with due rites. The other maiden was not formally wedded on the ground that she was one for whom dowry had been paid in the form of valour. My uncle of Kuru's race, viz., king Valhika, said that the maiden so brought away and not wedded with due rites should be set free. That maiden, therefore, was recommended to Vichitravirya for being married by him according to due rites. Doubting my father's words I repaired to others for asking their opinion. I thought that my sire was exceedingly punctilious in matters of morality. I then went to my sire himself, O king, and addressed him these words from desire of knowing something about the practices of righteous people in respect of marriage, 'I desire, O sire, to know what in truth the practices are of righteous people.' I repeated the expression of my wish several times, so great was my eagerness and curiosity. After I had uttered those words, that foremost of righteous men, viz., my sire, Valhika answered me, saying, 'If in your opinion the status of husband and wife be taken to attach on account of the gift and acceptance of dowry and not from the actual taking of the maiden's hand with due rites, the father of the maiden (by permitting his daughter to go away with the giver of the dowry) would so himself to be the follower of a creed other than that which is derivable from the ordinary scriptures. Even this is what the accepted scriptures declare. Persons conversant with morality and duty do not allow that their words are at all authoritative who say that the status of husband and wife arises from the gift and acceptance of dowry, and not from the actual taking of the hand with due rites. The saying is well-known that the status of husband and wife is created by actual bestowal of the daughter by the sire (and her acceptance by the husband with due rites). The status of wife cannot attach to maidens through sale and purchase. They who regard such status to be due to sale and the gift of dowry are persons that are certainly unacquainted with the scriptures. No one should bestow his daughter upon such persons. In fact, they are not men to whom one may marry his daughter. A wife should never be purchased. Nor should a father sell his daughter. Only those persons of sinful soul who are possessed, besides, by cupidity, and who sell and purchase female slaves for making serving women, regard the status of wife as capable of arising from the gift and acceptance of a dowry. On this subject some people on one occasion had asked prince Satyavat the following question, "If the giver of a dowry unto the kinsmen of a maiden happens to die before marriage, can another person take the hand of that maiden in marriage? We have doubts on this matter. Do thou remove these doubts of ours, for thou art endued with great wisdom and art honoured by the wise. Be thou the organ of vision unto ourselves that are desirous of learning the truth." Prince Satyavat answered saying, "The kinsmen of the maiden should bestow her upon him whom they consider eligible. There need be no scruples in this. The righteous act in this way without taking note of the giver of the dower even if he be alive; while, as regards the giver that is dead, there is not the slightest doubt. Some say that the virgin wife or widow,--one, that is, whose marriage has not been consummated with her husband by actual sexual congress in consequence of his absence or death,--may be allowed to unite herself with her husband's younger brother or such other relation. The husband dying before such consummation, the virgin-widow may either surrender herself to her husband's younger brother or betake herself to the practice of penances. In the opinion of some, the younger brother of the husband or such other relation may thus use the unused wife or widow, though others maintain that such practice, notwithstanding its prevalence, springs from desire instead of being a scriptural ordinance. They that say so are clearly of opinion that the father of a maiden has the right to bestow her upon any eligible person, disregarding the dowry previously given by another and accepted by himself. If after the hand of a maiden has been promised all the initial rites before marriage be performed, the maiden may still be bestowed upon a person other than the one unto whom she had been promised. Only the giver incurs the sin of falsehood: so far, however, as the status of wife is concerned, no injury can occur thereto. The Mantras in respect of marriage accomplish their object of bringing about the indissoluble union of marriage at the seventh step. The maiden becomes the wife of him unto whom the gift is actually made with water.[286] The gift of maidens should be made in the following way. The wise know it for certain. A superior Brahmana should wed a maiden that is not unwilling, that belongs to a family equal to his own in purity or status, and that is given away by her brother. Such a girl should be wed in the presence of fire, with due rites, causing her, amongst other things, to circumambulate for the usual number of times."'"'" SECTION XLV "'Yudhishthira said, "If a person, after having given dowry for a maiden, goes away, how should the maiden's father or other kinsmen who are competent to bestow her, act? Do tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "Such a maiden, if she happens to be the daughter of a sonless and rich father, should be maintained by the father (in view of the return of him who has given the dowry). Indeed, if the father does not return the dowry unto the kinsmen of the giver, the maiden should be regarded as belonging to the giver of the dowry. She may even raise offspring for the giver (during his absence) by any of those means that are laid down in the scriptures. No person, however, can be competent to wed her according to due rites. Commanded by her sire, the princess Savitri had in days of old chosen a husband and united herself with him. This act of hers is applauded by some; but others conversant with the scriptures, condemn it. Others that are righteous have not acted in this way. Others hold that the conduct of the righteous should ever be regarded as the foremost evidence of duty or morality.[287] Upon this subject Sukratu, the grandson of the high-souled Janaka, the ruler of the Videhas, has declared the following opinion. There is the well-known declaration of the scriptures that women are incompetent to enjoy freedom at any period of their life. If this were not the path trodden by the righteous, how could this scriptural declaration exist? As regards the righteous, therefore, how can there be any question or doubt in respect of this matter? How can people condemn that declaration by choosing to conduct themselves otherwise? The unrighteous dereliction of eternal usage is regarded as the practice of the Asuras. Such practice we never hear of in the conduct of the ancients.[288] The relationship of husband and wife is very subtile (having reference to the acquisition of destiny, and, therefore, capable of being understood with the aid of only the inspired declarations in scriptures). It is different from the natural relationship of male and female which consists only in the desire for sexual pleasure. This also was said by the king alluded to of Janaka's race."[289] "'Yudhishthira said, "Upon what authority is the wealth of men inherited (by others when they happen to have daughters)? In respect of her sire the daughter should be regarded the same as the son." "'Bhishma said, "The son is even as one's own self, and the daughter is like unto the son. How, therefore, can another take the wealth when one lives in one's own self in the form of one's daughter? Whatever wealth is termed the Yautuka property of the mother, forms the portion of the maiden daughter. If the maternal grandfather happens to die without leaving sons, the daughter's son should inherit it. The daughter's son offers pindas to his own father and the father of his mother. Hence, in accordance with considerations of justice, there is no difference between the son and the daughter's son. When a person has got only a daughter and she has been invested by him with the status of a son, if he then happens to have a son, such a son (instead of taking all the wealth of his sire) shares the inheritance with the daughter.[290] When, again, a person has got a daughter and she has been invested by him with the status of a son, if he then happens to take a son by adoption or purchase then the daughter is held to be superior to such a son (for she takes three shares of her father's wealth, the son's share being limited to only the remaining two). In the following case I do not see any reason why the status of a daughter's son should attach to the sons of one's daughter. The case is that of the daughter who has been sold by her sire. The sons born of a daughter that has been sold by her sire for actual price, belong exclusively to their father (even if he do not beget them himself but obtain them according to the rules laid down in the scriptures for the raising of issue through the agency of others). Such sons can never belong, even as daughter's sons, to their maternal grandfather in consequence of his having sold their mother for a price and lost all his rights in or to her by that act.[291] Such sons, again, become full of malice, unrighteous in conduct, the misappropriators of other people's wealth, and endued with deceit and cunning. Having sprung from that sinful form of marriage called Asura, the issue becomes wicked in conduct. Persons acquainted with the histories of olden times, conversant with duties, devoted to the scriptures and firm in maintaining the restraints therein laid down, recite in this connection some metrical lines sung in days of yore by Yama. Even this is what Yama had sung. That man who acquires wealth by selling his own son, or who bestows his daughter after accepting a dower for his own livelihood, has to sink in seven terrible hells one after another, known by the name of Kalasutra. There that wretch has to feed upon sweat and urine and stools during the whole time. In that form of marriage which is called Arsha, the person who weds has to give a bull and a cow and the father of the maiden accepts the gift. Some characterise this gift as a dowry (or price), while some are of opinion that it should not be regarded in that light. The true opinion, however, is that a gift for such a purpose, be it of small value or large, should, O king, be regarded as dowry or price, and the bestowal of the daughter under such circumstances should be viewed as a sale. Notwithstanding the fact of its having been practised by a few persons it can never be taken as the eternal usage. Other forms of marriage are seen, practised by men, such as marrying girls after abducting them by force from amidst their kinsmen. Those persons who have sexual intercourse with a maiden, after reducing her to subjection by force, are regarded as perpetrators of sin. They have to sink in darkest hell.[292] Even a human being with whom one has no relationship of blood should not form the subject of sale. What need then be said of one's own issue? With the wealth that is acquired by doing sinful deeds, no action leading to merit can be performed."'" SECTION XLVI "'Bhishma said, "They that are conversant with ancient history recite the following verse of Daksha, the son of Prachetas: That maiden, in respect of whom nothing is taken by her kinsmen in the form of dowry cannot be said to be sold.[293] Respect, kind treatment, and everything else that is agreeable, should all be given unto the maiden whose hand is taken in marriage. Her sire and brothers and father-in-law and husband's brothers should show her every respect and adorn her with ornaments, if they be desirous of reaping benefits, for such conduct on their part always leads to considerable happiness and advantage. If the wife does not like her husband or fails to gladden him, from such dislike and absence of joy, the husband can never have issue for increasing his race. Women, O king, should always be worshipped and treated with affection. There where women are treated with respect, the very deities are said to be filled with joy. There where women are not worshipped, all acts become fruitless. If the women of a family, in consequence of the treatment they receive, grieve and shed tears, that family soon becomes extinct. Those houses that are cursed by women meet with destruction and ruin as if scorched by some Atharvan rite. Such houses lose their splendour. Their growth and prosperity cease. O king, Manu, on the eve of his departure for Heaven, made over women to the care and protection of men, saying that they are weak, that they fall an easy prey to the seductive wiles of men,[294] disposed to accept the love that is offered them, and devoted to truth. There are others among them that are full of malice, covetous of honours, fierce in disposition, unlovable, and impervious to reason. Women, however, deserve to be honoured. Do ye men show them honour. The righteousness of men depends upon women. All pleasures and enjoyments also completely depend upon them. Do ye serve them and worship them. Do ye bend your wills before them. The begetting of offspring, the nursing of children already born, and the accomplishment of all acts necessary for the needs of society, behold, all these have women for their cause. By honouring women, ye are sure to attain to the fruition of all objects. In this connection a princess of the house of Janaka the ruler of the Videhas, sang a verse. It is this: Women have no sacrifices ordained for them. There are no Sraddhas which they are called upon to perform. They are not required to observe any fasts. To serve their husbands with reverence and willing obedience is their only duty. Through the discharge of that duty they succeed in conquering heaven. In childhood, the sire protects her. The husband protects her in youth. When she becomes old, her sons protect her. At no period of her life does woman deserve to be free. Deities of prosperity are women. The person that desire affluence and prosperity should honour them. By cherishing women, O Bharata, one cherishes the goddess of prosperity herself, and by afflicting her, one is said to afflict the goddess of prosperity."'" SECTION XLVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou art fully conversant with the ordinances of all the scriptures. Thou art the foremost of those that are acquainted with the duties of kings. Thou art celebrated over the whole world as a great dispeller of doubts. I have a doubt, do thou explain it to me, O grandsire! As regards this doubt that has arisen in my mind, I shall not ask any other person for its solution. It behoveth thee, O thou of mighty arms, to expound as to how a man should conduct himself who is desirous of treading along the path of duty and righteousness. It has been laid down, O grandsire, that a Brahmana can take four wives, viz., one that belongs to his own order, one that is a Kshatriya, one that is a Vaisya, and one that is a Sudra, if the Brahmana wishes to indulge in the desire of sexual intercourse. Tell me, O best of the Kurus, which amongst those sons deserves to inherit the father's wealth one after another? Who amongst them, O grandsire, shall take what share of the paternal wealth? I desire to hear this, viz., how the distribution has been ordained amongst them of the paternal property." "'Bhishma said, "The Brahmana, the Kshatriya, and the Vaisya are regarded as the three regenerate orders. To wed in these three orders has been ordained to be the duty of the Brahmana, O Yudhishthira. Through erroneous judgment or cupidity or lust, O scorcher of foes, a Brahmana takes a Sudra wife. Such a wife, however, he is not competent to take according to the scriptures. A Brahmana, by taking a Sudra woman to his bed, attains to a low end in the next world. He should, having done such an act, undergo expiation according to the rites laid down in the scriptures. That expiation must be twice heavier or severer if in consequence of such an act, O Yudhishthira, the Brahmana gets offspring. I shall now tell thee, O Bharata, how the (paternal) wealth is to be distributed (among the children of the different spouses.) The son born of the Brahmana wife shall, in the first place, appropriate from his father's wealth a bull of good marks, and the best car or vehicle. What remains of the Brahmana's property, O Yudhishthira, after this should be divided into ten equal portions. The son by the Brahmana wife shall take four of such portions of the paternal wealth. The son that is born of the Kshatriya wife is, without doubt, possessed of the status of a Brahmana. In consequence, however, of the distinction attaching to his mother, he shall take three of the ten shares into which the property has been divided. The son that has been born of the wife belonging to the third order, viz., the woman of the Vaisya caste, by the Brahmana sire, shall take, O Yudhishthira, two of the three remaining shares of the father's property. It has been said that the son that has been begotten by the Brahmana sire upon the Sudra wife should not take any portion of the father's wealth, for he is not to be considered an heir. A little, however, of the paternal wealth should be given to the son of the Sudra wife, hence the one remaining share should be given to him out of compassion. Even this should be the order of the ten shares into which the Brahmana's wealth is to be divided. All the sons that are born of the same mother or of mothers of the same order, shall share equally the portion that is theirs. The son born of the Sudra wife should not be regarded as invested with the status of a Brahmana in consequence of his being unskilled (in the scriptures and the duties ordained for the Brahmana). Only those children that are born of wives belonging to the three higher orders should be regarded as invested with the status of Brahmanas. It has been said that there are only four orders, there is no fifth that has been enumerated. The son by the Sudra wife shall take the tenth part of his sire's wealth (that remains after the allotment has been made to the others in the way spoken of). That share, however, he is to take only when his sire has given it to him. He shall not take it if his sire does not give it unto him. Some portion of the sire's wealth should without doubt, be given, O Bharata, to the son of the Sudra wife. Compassion is one of the highest virtues. It is through compassion that something is given to the son of the Sudra wife. Whatever be the object in respect of which compassion arises, as a cardinal virtue it is always productive of merit. Whether the sire happens to have children (by his spouses belonging to the other orders) or to have no children (by such spouses), unto the son by the Sudra wife, O Bharata, nothing more than a tenth part of the sire's wealth should be given. If a Brahmana happens to have more wealth than what is necessary for maintaining himself and his family for three years, he should with that wealth perform sacrifices. A Brahmana should never acquire wealth for nothing.[295] The highest sum that the husband should give unto the wife is three thousand coins (of the prevailing currency). The wealth that the husband gives unto the wife, the latter may spend or dispose of as she likes. Upon the death of the childless husband, the wife shall enjoy all his wealth. (She shall not, however, sell or otherwise dispose of any portion of it). The wife should never take (without her husband's knowledge) any portion of her husband's wealth. Whatever wealth, O Yudhishthira, the Brahmana wife may acquire by gift from her father, should be taken (after her death) by her daughter, for the daughter is like the son. The daughter, O king, has been ordained in the scriptures, to be equal to the son, O delighter of the Kurus. Even thus hath the law of inheritance been ordained, O bull of Bharata's race. Remembering these ordinances about the distribution and disposal of wealth, one should never acquire wealth uselessly." "'Yudhishthira said, "If the son born of a Sudra woman by a Brahmana father has been declared in the scriptures to be disentitled to any wealth, by what exceptional rule then is a tenth part of the paternal property to be given to him? A son born of a Brahmana wife by a Brahmana is unquestionably a Brahmana. One born of a Kshatriya wife or of a Vaisya wife, by a Brahmana husband, is similarly invested with the status of a Brahmana. Why then, O best of kings, are such sons to share the paternal wealth unequally? All of them, thou hast said, are Brahmanas, having been born of mothers that belong to the three higher orders equally entitled to the name of regenerate." "'Bhishma said, "O scorcher of foes, all spouses in this world are called by the name of Data. Although that name is applied to all, yet there is this great distinction to be observed. If, having married three wives belonging to the three other orders, a Brahmana takes a Brahmana wife the very last of all yet shall she be regarded as the first in rank among all the wives, and as deserving of the greatest respect. Indeed, among all the co-wives, she shall be the foremost in consideration. In her apartments should be kept all those articles that are necessary in view of the husband's baths, personal decorations, washing of teeth, and application of collyrium to the eyes. In her apartments should be kept the Havya and the Kavya and all else that the husband may require for the performance of his religious acts. If the Brahmana wife is in the house, no other wife is entitled to attend to these needs of the husband. Only the Brahmana wife, O Yudhishthira, should assist in these acts of the husband. The husband's food and drink and garlands and robes and ornaments, all these should be given by the Brahmana wife to the husband, for she is the foremost in rank and consideration among all the spouses of the husband. These are the ordinances of the scriptures as laid down by Manu, O delighter of the Kurus! Even this, O monarch, is seen to be the course of eternal usage. If a Brahmana, O Yudhishthira, led by lust, acts in a different way, he shall come to be regarded as a Chandala among Brahmanas.[296] The son born of the Kshatriya wife has been said to be equal in status to the son born of the Brahmana wife. For all that, a distinction attaches to the son of the Brahmana wife in consequence of the superiority of the Brahmana to the Kshatriya in respect of the order of birth. The Kshatriya cannot be regarded as equal to the Brahmana woman in point of birth. Hence, O best of kings, the son born of the Brahmana wife must be regarded as the first in rank and superior to the son born of the Kshatriya wife. Because, again the Kshatriya is not equal in point of birth to the Brahmana wife, hence the son of the Brahmana wife takes one after another, all the best things, O Yudhishthira, among his father's possessions. Similarly, the Vaisya cannot be regarded as the equal of the Kshatriya in point of birth. Prosperity, kingdom, and treasury, O Yudhishthira, belong to the Kshatriya. All these have been ordained for the Kshatriya. The whole earth, O king, with her belt of seas, is seen to belong to him. By following the duties of his own order, the Kshatriya acquires an extensive affluence. The sceptre of royalty is held by him. Without the Kshatriya, O king, there can be no protection. The Brahmanas are highly blessed, for they are the deities of the very deities. Following the ordinances laid down by the Rishis, the Kshatriyas should worship the Brahmanas according to due rites. Even this is the eternal usage. Coveted by thieves and others, the possessions of all men are protected by Kshatriyas in the observance of the duties assigned to their order. Indeed, wealth and spouses and every other possession owned by people would have been forcibly taken away but for this protection that the Kshatriyas afford. The Kshatriya, as the king, becomes the protector or rescuer of all the others. Hence, the son of the Kshatriya wife shall, without doubt, be held to be superior to him that is born of the Vaisya wife. The son of the Kshatriya wife, for this, takes a larger share of the paternal property than the son of the Vaisya mother." "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast duly said what the rules are that apply to Brahmanas. What, however, are the rules that apply to the others?" "'Bhishma said, "For the Kshatriya, O delighter of the Kurus, two wives have been ordained. The Kshatriya may take a third wife from the Sudra order. Such practice prevails, it is true, but it is not sanctioned by the scriptures. Even this should be the order, O Yudhisthira, of the spouses of a Kshatriya. The property of a Kshatriya should, O king, be divided into eight shares. The son of the Kshatriya wife shall take four of such shares of the paternal property. The son of the Vaisya wife shall take three of such shares. The remaining one or the eighth share shall be taken by the son of the Sudra wife. The son of the Sudra wife, however, shall take only when the father gives but not otherwise. For the Vaisya only one wife has been ordained. A second wife is taken from the Sudra order. The practice prevails, it is true, but it is not sanctioned by the scriptures. If a Vaisya has two wives, one of whom is a Vaisya and the other a Sudra, there is a difference between them in respect of status. The wealth of a Vaisya, O chief of Bharata's race, should be divided into five portions. I shall now speak of the sons of a Vaisya by a wife of his own order and by one belonging to the inferior order, as also of the manner in which, O king his wealth is to be distributed among those children. The son born of the Vaisya wife shall take four of such shares of his father's wealth. The fifth share, O Bharata, has been said to belong to the son born of the Sudra wife. Such a son, however, shall take when the father gives. He should not take anything unless the father gives it to him. The son that is begotten on a Sudra wife by persons of the three higher orders should always be regarded as disentitled to any share of the sire's wealth. The Sudra should have only one wife taken from his own order. He can under no circumstances, take any other spouse. Even if he happens to have a century of sons by such a spouse, all of them share equally the wealth that he may leave behind. As regards all the orders, the children born of the spouse taken from the husband's own order shall, it has been laid down, share equally the father's wealth. The eldest son's share shall be greater than that of every other son, for he shall take one share more than each of his brothers, consisting of the best things of his father. Even this is the law of inheritance, O son of Pritha, as declared by the Self-born himself. Amongst children all born of the spouse taken from the husband's own order, there is another distinction, O king! In marrying, the elder ones should always precede the younger ones. The spouses being all equal in respect of their order of birth, and the children also being all equal in respect of the status of their mothers, the son that is first-born shall take one share more than each of his other brothers. The son that comes next in point of age shall take a share that is next in value, while the son that is youngest shall take the share that belongs to the youngest.[297] Thus among spouses of all orders, they that belong to the same order with the husband are regarded as the first. Even this is what was declared by the great Rishi Kasyapa the son of Marichi."'" SECTION XLVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Through inducements offered by wealth, or through mere lust, or through ignorance of the true order of birth (of both males and females), or through folly, intermixture happens of the several orders. What, O grandsire, are the duties of persons that are born in the mixed classes and what are the acts laid down for them? Do thou discourse to me on this!" "'Bhishma said, "In the beginning, the Lord of all creatures created the four orders and laid down their respective acts or duties, for the sake of sacrifice.[298] The Brahmana may take four wives, one from each of the four orders. In two of them (viz., the wife taken from his own order and that taken from the one next below), he takes birth himself (the children begotten upon them being regarded as invested with the same status as his own). Those sons, however, that are begotten by him on the two spouses that belong to the next two orders (viz., Vaisya and Sudra), are inferior, their status being determined not by that of their father but by that of their mothers. The son that is begotten by a Brahmana upon a Sudra wife is called Parasara, implying one born of a corpse, for the Sudra woman's body is as inauspicious as a corpse. He should serve the persons of his (father's) race. Indeed, it is not proper for him to give up the duty of service that has been laid down for him. Adopting all means in his power, he should uphold the burden of his family. Even if he happens to be elder in age, he should still dutifully serve the other children of his father who may be younger to him in years, and bestow upon them whatever he may succeed in earning. A Kshatriya may take three wives. In two of them (viz., the one taken from his own order and the other that is taken from the order immediately below), he takes birth himself (so that those children are invested with the status of his own order). His third wife being of the Sudra order is regarded as very inferior. The son that he begets upon her comes to be called as an Ugra. The Vaisya may take two spouses. In both of them (viz., the one taken from his own order, and the other from the lowest of the four pure orders), he takes birth himself (so that those children become invested with the status of his own order). The Sudra can take only one wife, viz., she that is taken from his own order. The son begotten by him upon her becomes a Sudra. A son that takes birth under circumstances other than those mentioned above, comes to be looked upon as a very inferior one. If a person of a lower order begets a son upon a woman of a superior order, such a son is regarded as outside the pale of the four pure orders. Indeed, such a son becomes on object of censure with the four principal orders. If a Kshatriya begets a son upon a Brahmana woman, such a son, without being included in any of the four pure orders, comes to be regarded as a Suta. The duties of a Suta are all connected with the reciting of eulogies and encomiums of kings and other great men. The son begotten by a Vaisya upon a woman of the Brahmana order comes to be regarded as a Vaidehaka. The duties assigned to him are the charge of bars and bolts for protecting the privacy of women of respectable households. Such sons have no cleansing rites laid down for them.[299] If a Sudra unites with a woman belonging to the foremost of the four orders, the son that is begotten is called a Chandala. Endued with a fierce disposition, he must live in the outskirts of cities and towns and the duty assigned to him is that of the public executioner. Such sons are always regarded as wretches of their race. These, O foremost of intelligent persons, are the offspring of intermixed orders. The son begotten by a Vaisya upon a Kshatriya woman becomes a Vandi or Magadha. The duties assigned to him are eloquent recitations of praise. The son begotten through transgression, by a Sudra upon a Kshatriya woman, becomes a Nishada and the duties assigned to him have reference to the catching of fish. If a Sudra happens to have intercourse with a Vaisya woman, the son begotten upon her comes to be called Ayogava. The duty assigned to such a person are those of a Takshan (carpenter). They that are Brahmanas should never accept gifts from such a person. They are not entitled to possess any kind of wealth. Persons belonging to the mixed castes beget upon spouses taken from their own castes children invested with the status that is their own. When they beget children in women taken from castes that are inferior to theirs, such children become inferior to their fathers, for they become invested with the status that belongs to their mothers. Thus as regards the four pure orders, persons beget children invested with their own status upon spouses taken from their own orders as also upon them that are taken from the orders immediately below their own. When, however, offspring are begotten upon other spouses, they come to be regarded as invested with a status that is, principally, outside the pale of the four pure orders. When such children beget sons in women taken from their own classes, those sons take the status of their sires. It is only when they take spouse from castes other than their own, that the children they beget become invested with inferior status. As an example of this it may be said that a Sudra begets upon a woman belonging to the most superior order a son that is outside the pale of the four orders (for such a son comes to be regarded as a Chandala who is much inferior). The son that is outside the pale of the four orders by uniting with women belonging to the four principal orders, begets offspring that are further degraded in point of status. From those outside the pale of the four orders and those again that are further outside that pale, children multiply in consequence of the union of persons with women of classes superior to their own. In this way, from persons of inferior status classes spring up, altogether fifteen in number, that are equally low or still lower in status. It is only from sexual union of women with persons who should not have such union with them that mixed classes spring up. Among the classes that are thus outside the pale of the four principal or pure orders, children are begotten upon women belonging to the class called Sairindhri by men of the class called Magadha. The occupation of such offspring is the adornment of the bodies of kinds and others. They are well-acquainted with the preparation of unguents, the making of wreaths, and the manufacture of articles used for the decoration of the person. Though free by the status that attaches to them by birth, they should yet lead a life of service. From the union of Magadhas of a certain class with women of the caste called Sairindhri, there springs up another caste called Ayogava. Their occupation consists in the making of nets (for catching fish and fowl and animals of the chase). Vaidehas, by uniting themselves with women of the Sairindhri caste, beget children called Maireyakas whose occupation consists in the manufacture of wines and spirits. From the Nishadas spring a caste called Madgura and another known by the name of Dasas whose occupation consists in plying boats. From the Chandala springs a race called Swapaka whose occupation consists in keeping guard over the dead. The women of the Magadhi caste, by union with these four castes of wicked dispositions produce four others who live by practising deceit. These are Mansa, Swadukara, Kshaudra, and Saugandha. From the Vaideha springs up a cruel and sinful caste that lives by practising deception. From the Nishadas again springs up the Madranabha caste whose members are seen to ride on cars drawn by asses. From the Chandalas springs up the caste called Pukkasa whose members are seen to eat the flesh of asses, horses and elephants. These cover themselves with the garments obtained by stripping human corpses. They are again seen to eat from broken earthenware[300]. These three castes of very low status are born of women of the Ayogava caste (by fathers taken from different castes). The caste called Kshudra springs from the Vaidehaka. The caste called Andhra which takes up its residence in the outskirts of towns and cities, also springs up (from the Vaidehakas). Then again the Charmakara, uniting himself with a woman of Nishada caste, begets the class called Karavara. From the Chandala again springs up the caste known by the name of Pandusaupaka whose occupation consists in making baskets and other things with cleft bamboos. From the union of the Nishada with a woman of the Vaidehi caste springs one who is called by the name of Ahindaka. The Chandala begets upon a Saupaka woman, a son that does not differ from the Chandala in status or occupation. A Nishada woman, by union with a Chandala, brings forth a son who lives in the outskirts of villages and towns. Indeed, the members of such a caste live in crematoria and are regarded by the very lowest orders as incapable of being numbered among them. Thus to these mixed castes spring up from improper and sinful union of fathers and mothers belonging to different castes. Whether they live in concealment or openly, they should be known by their occupations. The duties have been laid down in the scriptures for only the four principal orders. As regards the others the scriptures are entirely silent. Among all the orders, the members of those castes that have no duties assigned to them by the scriptures, need have no fears as to what they do (to earn their livelihood). Persons unaccustomed to the performance or for whom sacrifices have not been laid down, and who are deprived of the company and the instructions of the righteous whether numbered among the four principal orders or out of their pale, by uniting themselves with women of other castes, led not by considerations of righteousness but by uncontrolled lust, cause numerous mixed castes to come into existence whose occupations and abodes depend on the circumstances connected with the irregular unions to which they owe their origin. Having recourse to spots where four roads meet, or crematoria, or hills and mountains, or forests and trees, they build their habitations there. The ornaments they wear are made of iron. Living in such places openly, they betake themselves to their own occupations to earn their livelihood. They may be seen to live in this way, adorning their persons with ornaments and employed in the task of manufacturing diverse kinds of domestic and other utensils. Without doubt, by assisting kine and Brahmanas, and practising the virtues of abstention from cruelty, compassion, truthfulness of speech, and forgiveness, and, if need be, by preserving others by laying down their very lives, persons of the mixed castes may achieve success. I have no doubt, O chief of men, that these virtues become the causes of their success. He that is possessed of intelligence, should, taking everything into consideration, beget offspring according to the ordinances of the scriptures, upon women that have been declared proper or fit for him. A son begotten upon a woman belonging to a degraded caste, instead of rescuing the sire, brings him to grief even as a heavy weight brings to grief a swimmer desirous of crossing water. Whether a man happens to be possessed of learning or not, lust and wrath are natural attributes of humanity in this world. Women, therefore, may always be seen to drag men into the wrong path. This natural disposition of women is such that man's contact with her is productive of misery to him. Hence, men possessed of wisdom do not suffer themselves to be excessively attached to women." "'Yudhishthira said, "There are men who belong to the mixed castes, and who are of very impure birth. Though presenting the features of respectability, they are in reality disrespectable. In consequence of these external aspects we may not be able to know the truth about their birth. Are there any signs, O grandsire, by which the truth may be known about the origin of such men?"'" SECTION XLIX "'Bhishma said, "A person that is born of an irregular union presents diverse features of disposition. One's purity of birth, again, is to be ascertained from one's acts which must resemble the acts of those who are admittedly good and righteous. A disrespectable behaviour, acts opposed to those laid down in the scriptures, crookedness and cruelty, and abstention from sacrifices and other spiritual acts that lead to merit, proclaim one's impurity of origin. A son receives the disposition of either the sire or the mother. Sometimes he catches the dispositions of both. A person of impure birth can never succeed in concealing his true disposition. As the cub of a tiger or a leopard resembles its sire and dam in form and in (the matter of) its stripes of spots, even so a person cannot but betray the circumstance of his origin. However covered may the course of one's descent be, if that descent happens to be impure, its character or disposition is sure to manifest itself slightly or largely. A person may, for purposes of his own, choose to tread on an insincere path, displaying such conduct as seems to be righteous. His own disposition, however, in the matter of those acts that he does, always proclaims whether he belongs to a good order or to a different one. Creatures in the world are endued with diverse kinds of disposition. They are, again, seen to be employed in diverse kinds of acts. Amongst creatures thus employed, there is nothing that is so good or precious as pure birth and righteous conduct. If a person be born in a low order, that good understanding which arises from a study of the scriptures fails to rescue his body from low acts. Absolute goodness of understanding may be of different degrees. It may be high, middling, or low. Even if it appears in a person of low extraction, it disappears like autumnal clouds without producing any consequences. On the other hand, that other goodness of understanding which, according to its measure, has ordained the status in which the person has been born, shows itself in his acts[301]. If a person happens to belong to a superior order but still if he happens to be divested of good behaviour, he should receive no respect or worship. One may worship even a Sudra if he happens to be conversant with duties and be of good conduct. A person proclaims himself by his own good and acts and by his good or bad disposition and birth. If one's race of birth happens to be degraded for any reason, one soon raises it and makes it resplendent and famous by one's acts. For these reasons they that are endued with wisdom should avoid those women, among these diverse castes mixed or pure, upon whom they should not beget offspring." "'Yudhishthira said, "Do thou discourse to us, O sire, upon the orders and classes separately, upon different kinds of sons begotten upon different types of women, upon the person entitled to have them as sons, and upon their status in life. It is known that disputes frequently arise with respect to sons. It behoveth thee, O king, to solve the doubts that have taken possession of our minds. Indeed, we are stupefied with respect to this subject." "'Bhishma said, "The son of one's loins is regarded as one's own self. The son that is begotten upon one's wife by a person whom one has invited for the task, is called Niruktaja. The son that is begotten upon one's wife by somebody without one's permission, is Prasritaja. The son begotten upon his own wife by a person fallen away from his status is called Patitaja. There are two other sons, viz., the son given, and the son made. There is another called Adhyudha.[302] The son born of a maiden in her father's house is called Kanina. Besides these, there are six kinds of sons called Apadhwansaja and six others that are Apasadas. These are the several kinds of sons mentioned in the scriptures, learn, O Bharata!" "'Yudhishthira said, "Who are the six that are called Apadhwansajas? Who also are the Apasadas? It behoveth thee to explain all these to me in detail." "'Bhishma said, "The sons that a Brahmana begets upon spouses taken from the three inferior orders, those begotten by a Kshatriya upon spouses taken from the two orders inferior to his own, O Bharata, and the sons that a Vaisya begets upon a spouse taken from the one order that is inferior to his,--are all called Apadhwansajas. They are, as thus explained, of six kinds. Listen now to me as I tell thee who the Apasadas are. The son that a Sudra begets upon a Brahmana woman is called a Chandala. Begotten upon a Kshatriya woman by a person of the Sudra order, the son is called a Vratya. He who is born of a Vaisya woman by a Sudra father is called a Vaidya. These three kinds of sons are called Apasadas. The Vaisya, by uniting himself with a woman of the Brahmana order, begets a son that is called a Magadha, while the son that he gets upon a Kshatriya woman is called a Vamaka. The Kshatriya can beget but one kind of son upon a woman of a superior order. Indeed, the son begotten by a Kshatriya upon a Brahmana woman, is called a Suta. These three also are called Apasadas. It cannot be said, O king, that these six kinds of sons are no sons." "'Yudhishthira said, "Some say that one's son is he that is born in one's soil. Some, on the other hand, say that one's son is he who has been begotten from one's seed. Are both these kinds of sons equal? Where, again, is the son to be? Do thou tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "His is the son from whose seed he has sprung. If, however, the owner of the seed abandons the son born of it, such a son then becomes his upon whose spouse he has been begotten. The same rule applies to the son called Adhyudha. He belongs to the person from whose seed he has taken his birth. If, however, the owner of the seed abandons him, he becomes the son of the husband of his mother.[303] Know that even this is what the law declares." "'Yudhishthira said, "We know that the son becomes his from whose seed he has taken birth. Whence does the husband of the woman that brings forth the son derive his right to the latter? Similarly, the son called Adhyudha should be known to be the son of him from whose seed he has sprung. How can they be sons of others by reasons of the engagement about owning and rearing them having been broken?" "'Bhishma said, "He who having begotten a son of his own loins, abandons him for some reason or other, cannot be regarded as the sire of such a son, for vital seed only cannot create sonship. Such a son must be held to belong to the person who owns the soil. When a man, desiring to have a son, weds a girl quick with child, the son born of his spouse must belong to him, for it is the fruit of his own soil. The person from whose vital seed the son has sprung can have no right to such a son. The son that is born in one's soil but not begotten by the owner, O chief of Bharata's race, bears all the marks of the sire that has actually begotten him (and not the marks of one that is only the husband of his mother). The son thus born is incapable of concealing the evidences that physiognomy offers. He is at once known by eyesight (to belong to another).[304] As regards the son made, he is sometimes regarded as the child of the person who has made him a son and so brings him up. In his case, neither the vital seed of which he is born nor the soil in which he is born, becomes the cause of sonship." "'Yudhishthira said, "What kind of a son is that who is said to be a made son and whose sonship arises from the fact of his being taken and brought up and in whose case neither the vital seed nor the soil of birth, O Bharata, is regarded as the cause of sonship?" "'Bhishma said, "When a person takes up and rears a son that has been cast off on the road by his father and mother, and when the person thus taking and rearing him fails to find out his parents after search, he becomes the father of such a son and the latter becomes what is called his made son. Not having anybody to own him, he becomes owned by him who brings him up. Such a son, again, comes to be regarded as belonging to that order to which his owner or rearer belongs." "'Yudhishthira said, "How should the purificatory rites of such a person be performed? In whose case what sort of rites are to be performed? With what girl should he be wedded? Do thou tell me all this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "The rites of purification touching such a son should be performed conformably to the usage of the person himself that raises him, for, cast off by his parents, such a son obtains the order of the person that takes him and brings him up. Indeed, O thou of unfading glory, the rearer should perform all the purificatory rites with respect to such a son according to the practices of the rearer's own race and kinsmen. As regards the girl also, O Yudhishthira, that should be bestowed in marriage upon such a son, who belongs to the order of the rearer himself, all this is to be done only when the order of son's true mother cannot be ascertained. Among sons, he that is born of a maiden and he that is born of a mother that had conceived before her marriage but had brought him forth subsequent to that are regarded as very disgraceful and degraded. Even those two, however, should receive the same rites of purification that are laid down for the sons begotten by the father in lawful wedlock. With respect to the son that becomes his sire's in consequence of his birth in the sire's soil and of those sons that are called Apasadas and those conceived by the spouse in her maidenhood but brought forth after marriage, Brahmanas and others should apply the same rites of purification that hold good for their own orders. These are the conclusions that are to be found in the scriptures with respect to the different orders. I have thus told thee everything appertaining to thy questions. What else dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION L "'Yudhishthira said, "What is the nature of the compassion or pity that is felt at the sight of another's woe? What is the nature of that compassion or sympathy that one feels for another in consequence of one's living in the companionship of that other? What is the nature (and degree) of the high blessedness that attaches to kine? It behoveth thee, O grandsire, to expound all this to me." "'Bhishma said, "I shall, in this connection, O thou of great effulgence, recite to thee an ancient narrative of a conversation between Nahusha and the Rishi Chyavana. In days of yore O Chief of Bharata's race, the great Rishi Chyavana of Bhrigu's race, always observant of high vows, became desirous of leading for some time the mode of life called Udavasa and set himself to commence it. Casting off pride and wrath and joy and grief, the ascetic, pledging himself to observe that vow, set himself to live for twelve years according to the rules of Udavasa. The Rishi inspired all creatures with a happy trust. And he inspired similar confidence in all creatures living in water. The puissant ascetic resembled the Moon himself in his behaviour to all. Bowing unto all the deities and having cleansed himself of all sins, he entered the water at the confluence of the Ganga and the Yamuna, and stood there like an inanimate post of wood. Placing his head against it, he bore the fierce and roaring current of the two streams united together,--the current whose speed resembled that of the wind itself. The Ganga and the Yamuna, however, and the other streams and lakes, whose waters unite together at the confluence at Prayaga, instead of afflicting the Rishi, went past him (to show him respect). Assuming the attitude of a wooden post, the great Muni sometimes laid himself down in the water and slept at ease. And sometimes, O chief of Bharata's race, the intelligent sage stood in an erect posture. He became quite agreeable unto all creatures living in water. Without the least fear, all these used to smell the Rishi's lips. In this way, the Rishi passed a long time at that grand confluence of waters. One day some fishermen came there. With nets in their hands, O thou of great effulgence, those men came to that spot where the Rishi was. They were many in number and all of them were bent upon catching fish. Well-formed and broad-chested, endued with great strength and courage and never returning in fear from water, those men who lived upon the earnings by their nets, came to that spot, resolved to catch fish. Arrived at the water which contained many fish, those fishermen, O chief of the Bharatas, tied all their nets together. Desirous of fish, those Kaivartas, many in number united together and surrounded a portion of the waters of the Ganga and the Yamuna with their nets. Indeed, they then cast into water their net which was made of new strings, capable of covering a large space, and endued with sufficient length and breadth. All of them, getting into the water, then began to drag with great force that net of theirs which was very large and had been well-spread over a large space. All of them were free from fear, cheerful, and fully resolved to do one another's bidding. They had succeeded in enmeshing a large number of fish and other aquatic animals. And as they dragged their net, O king, they easily dragged up Chyavana the son of Bhrigu along with a large number of fish. His body was overgrown with the river moss. His beard and matted locks had become green. And all over his person could be seen conchs and other molluscs attached with their heads. Beholding that Rishi who was well-conversant with the Vedas dragged up by them from water, all the fishermen stood with joined palms and then prostrated themselves on the ground and repeatedly bent their heads. Through fear and pain caused by the dragging of the net, and in consequence of their being brought upon land, the fish enmeshed in the net yielded up their lives. The ascetic, beholding that great slaughter of fishes, became filled with compassion and sighed repeatedly. "'"The fishermen said, 'We have committed this sin (of dragging thy sacred self from water) through ignorance. Be gratified with us! What wish of thine shall we accomplish? Command us, O great ascetic!'" "'Bhishma continued, "This addressed by them, Chyavana, from among that heap of fishes around him, said, 'Do ye with concentrated attention hear what my most cherished wish is. I shall either die with these fishes or do ye sell me with them. I have lived with them for a long time within the water. I do not wish to abandon them at such a time.' When he said these words unto them, the fishermen became exceedingly terrified. With pale faces they repaired to king Nahusha and informed him of all that had taken place."'" SECTION LI "'Bhishma said, "King Nahusha hearing the pass to which Chyavana was reduced, quickly proceeded to that spot accompanied by his ministers and priest. Having cleansed himself duly, the king, with joined palms and concentrated attention, introduced himself unto the high-souled Chyavana. The king's priest then worshipped with due ceremonies that Rishi, O monarch, who was observant of the vow of truth and endued with a high soul, and who resembled a god himself (in splendour and energy). "'"Nahusha said, 'Tell me, O best of regenerate persons, what act shall we do that may be agreeable to thee? However difficult that act may be, there is nothing, O holy one, that I shall not be able to accomplish at thy bidding.' "'"Chyavana said, 'These men that live by catching fish have all been tired with labour. Do thou pay them the price that may be set upon me along with the value of these fish.' "'"Nahusha said, 'Let my priest give unto these Nishadas a thousand coins as a price for purchasing these sacred one as he himself has commanded.' "'"Chyavana said, 'A thousand coins cannot represent my price. The question depends upon your discretion. Give them a fair value, settling with thy own intelligence what it should be.' "'"Nahusha said, 'Let, O learned Brahmana, a hundred thousand coins be given unto these Nishadas. Shall this be thy price, O holy one, or dost think otherwise?' "'"Chyavana said, 'I should not be purchased for a hundred thousand coins, O best of monarchs! Let a proper price be given unto them. Do thou consult with thy ministers.' "'"Nahusha said, 'Let my priest give unto these Nishadas a crore of coins. If even this does not represent thy price, let more be paid unto them.' "'"Chyavana said, 'O king, I do not deserve to be purchased for a crore of coins or even more. Let that price be given unto those men which would be fair or proper. Do thou consult with the Brahmanas.' "'"Nahusha said, 'Let half of my kingdom or even the whole be given away unto these Nishadas. I think that would represent thy price. What, however, dost thou think, O regenerate one?' "'"Chyavana said, 'I do not deserve to be purchased with half thy kingdom or even the whole of it, O king! Let thy price which is proper be given unto these men. Do thou consult with the Rishis.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the great Rishi, Nahusha became afflicted with great grief. With his ministers and priest he began to deliberate on the matter. There then came unto king Nahusha an ascetic living in the woods and subsisting upon fruit and roots and born of a cow. That best of regenerate persons, addressing the monarch, O king, said these words, 'I shall soon gratify thee. The Rishi also will be gratified. I shall never speak an untruth.--no, not even in jest, what then need I say of other occasions? Thou shouldst, without any scruple, do what I bid thee.' "'"Nahusha said, 'Do thou, O illustrious one, say what the price is of that great Rishi of Bhrigu's race. O, save me from this terrible pass, save my kingdom, and save my race! If the holy Chyavana became angry, he would destroy the three worlds: what need I say them of my poor self who is destitute of penances and who depends only upon the might of his arm? O great Rishi, do thou become the raft unto us that have all fallen into a fathomless ocean with all our counsellors and our priest! Do thou settle what the price should be of the Rishi.'" "'Bhishma said, "Hearing these words of Nahusha, the ascetic born of a cow and endued with great energy spoke in this strain, gladdening the monarch and all his counsellors, 'Brahmanas, O king, belong to the foremost of the four orders. No value, however great, can be set upon them. Cows also are invaluable. Therefore, O chief of men, do thou regard a cow as the value of the Rishi.' Hearing these words of the great Rishi, Nahusha became, O king, filled with joy along with all his counsellors and priest. Proceeding then to the presence of Bhrigu's son, Chyavana, of rigid vows, he addressed him thus, O monarch, for gratifying him to the best of his ability. "'"Nahusha said, 'Rise, rise, O regenerate Rishi, thou hast been purchased, O son of Bhirgu, with a cow as thy price. O foremost of righteous persons, even this, I think, is thy price.' "'"Chyavana said. 'Yes, O king of kings, I do rise up. I have been properly purchased by thee, O sinless one! I do not, O thou of unfading glory, see any wealth that is equal to kine. To speak of kine, to hear others speak of them, to make gifts of kine, and to see kine, O king, are acts that are all applauded, O hero, and that are highly auspicious and sin-cleansing. Kine are always the root of prosperity. There is no fault in kine. Kine always afford the best food, in the form of Havi, unto the deities. The sacred Mantras, Swaha and Vashat, are always established upon kine. Kine are the chief conductresses of sacrifices. They constitute the mouth of sacrifice. They bear and yield excellent and strength-giving nectar. They receive the worship of all the worlds and are regarded as the source of nectar. On earth, kine resemble fire in energy and form. Verily, kine represent high energy, and are bestowers of great happiness upon all creatures. That country where kine, established by their owners, breathe fearlessly, shines in beauty. The sins also of that country are all washed off. Kine constitute the stairs that lead to heaven. Kine are adored in heaven itself. Kine are goddesses that are competent to give everything and grant every wish. There is nothing else in the world that is so high or so superior!'"[305] "'Bhishma continued, "Even this is what I say unto thee on the subject of the glory and superiority of kine, O chief of Bharata's race. I am competent to proclaim a part only of the merits that attach to kine. I have not the ability to exhaust the subject! "'"Then Nishadas said, 'O ascetic, thou hast seen us and hast also spoken with us. It has been said that friendship with those that are good, depends upon only seven words[306]. Do thou then, O lord, show us thy grace. The blazing sacrificial fire eats all the oblations of clarified butter poured upon it. Of righteous soul, and possessed of great energy thou art among men, a blazing fire in energy. We propitiate thee, O thou of great learning! We surrender ourselves to thee. Do thou, for showing us favour, take back from us this cow.' "'"Chyavana said, 'The eye of a person that is poor or that has fallen into distress, the eye of an ascetic, or the eye of a snake of virulent poison, consumes a man with his very roots, even as a fire that, blazing up with the assistance of the wind, consumes a stack of dry grass or straw. I shall accept the cow that ye desire to present me. Ye fishermen, freed from every sin, go ye to heaven without any delay, with these fishes also that ye have caught with your nets.'" "'Bhishma continued, "After this, in consequence of the energy of the great Rishi of cleansed soul, those fishermen along with all those fish through virtue of those words that he had uttered, proceeded to heaven. King Nahusha, beholding the fishermen ascending to heaven with those fishes in their company, became filled with wonder, O chief of Bharata's race. After this, the two Rishis, viz., the one born of a cow and the other who was Chyavana of Bhrigu's race, gladdened king Nahusha by granting him many boons. Then king Nahusha of great energy, that lord of all the earth, filled with joy, O best of the Bharatas, said, 'Sufficient!' Like unto a second Indra, the chief of the celestials, he accepted the boon about his own steadiness in virtue. The Rishis having granted him the boon, the delighted king worshipped them both with great reverence. As regards Chyavana, his vow having been completed, he returned to his own asylum. The Rishi that had taken his birth from the cow, and who was endued with great energy, also proceeded to his own retreat. The Nishadas all ascended to heaven as also the fishes they had caught, O monarch. King Nahusha, too, having obtained those valuable boons, entered his own city. I have thus, O son, told thee everything respecting what thou hadst asked me. The affection that is generated by the sight alone of others as also by the fact of living with them, O Yudhishthira, and the high-blessedness of kine too, and the ascertainment of true righteousness, are the topics upon which I have discoursed. Tell me, O hero what else is in thy breast."'" SECTION LII "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou of great wisdom, a doubt I have that is very great and that is as vast as the ocean itself. Listen to it, O mighty-armed one and having learnt what it is, it behoves thee to explain it unto me. I have a great curiosity with respect to Jamadagni's son, O lord, viz., Rama, that foremost of all righteous persons. It behoveth thee to gratify that curiosity. How was Rama born who was endued with prowess incapable of being baffled? He belonged by birth to a race of regenerate Rishis. How did he become a follower of Kshatriya practices? Do thou, then, O king, recite to me in detail the circumstances of Rama's birth. How also did a son of the race of Kusika who was Kshatriya become a Brahmana? Great, without doubt, was the puissance of the high-souled Rama, O chief of men, as also of Viswamitra. Why did the grandson of Richika instead of his son become a Kshatriya in conduct? Why also did the grandson of Kusika and not his son become a Brahmana? Why did such untoward incidents overtake the grandsons of both, instead of their sons? It behoveth thee to explain the truth in respect of these circumstances." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited an old history of the discourse between Chyavana and Kusika, O Bharata! Endued with great intelligence, Chyavana of Bhrigu's race, that best of ascetics beheld (with his spiritual eye) the stain that would affect his own race (in consequence of some descendant of his becoming wedded to Kshatriya practice). Reflecting upon the merits and faults of that incident, as also its strength and weakness, Chyavana endued with wealth of asceticism became desirous of consuming the race of the Kusikas (for it was from that race that the stain of Kshatriya practices would, he knew, affect his own race). Repairing then to the presence of king Kusika, Chyavana said unto him, 'O sinless one, the desire has arisen in my heart of dwelling with thee for some time.' "'"Kusika said, 'O holy one, residence together is an act which the learned ordain for girls when these are given away. They that are endued with wisdom always speak of the practice in such connection only. O Rishi endued with wealth of asceticism, the residence which thou seekest with me is not sanctioned by the ordinance. Yet, however opposed to the dictates of duty and righteousness, I shall do what thou mayst be pleased to command.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Ordering a seat to be placed for the great ascetic Chyavana, king Kusika, accompanied by his wife, stood in the presence of the ascetic. Bringing a little jar of water, the king offered him water for washing his feet. He then, through his servants, caused all the rites to be duly performed in honour of his high-souled guest. The high-souled Kusika, who was observant of restraints and vows, then cheerfully presented, according to due forms, the ingredients consisting of honey and the other things, to the great Rishi and induced him to accept the same. Having welcomed and honoured the learned Brahmana in this way, the king once more addressed him and said, 'We two await thy orders! Command us what we are to do for thee, O holy one! If it is our kingdom or wealth or kine, O thou of rigid vows, or all articles that are given away in sacrifices, which thou wantest, tell us the word, and we shall bestow all upon thee! This palace, the kingdom, this seat of justice, await thy pleasure. Thou art the lord of all these! Do thou rule the earth! As regards myself, I am completely dependent upon thee.' Addressed in these words by the king, Chyavana of Bhrigu's race, filled with great delight, said unto Kusika these words in reply. "'"Chyavana said, 'I do not, O king, covet thy kingdom, nor thy wealth, nor the damsels thou hast, nor thy kine, nor thy provinces, nor articles needed for sacrifice. Do thou listen to me. If it pleases thee and thy wife, I shall commence to observe a certain vow. I desire thee and thy wife to serve me during that period without any scruples.' Thus addressed by the Rishi, the king and the queen became filled with joy, O Bharata, and answered him, saving, 'Be it so, O Rishi!' Delighted with the Rishi's words, the king led him into an apartment of the palace. It was an excellent one, agreeable to see. The king showed him everything in that room. And the king said. 'This, O holy one, is thy bed. Do thou live here as thou pleasest! O thou that art endued with wealth of asceticism, myself and my queen shall strive our best to give thee every comfort and every pleasure.' While they were thus conversing with each other, the sun passed the meridian. The Rishi commanded the king to bring him food and drink. King Kusika, bowing unto the Rishi, asked him, saying, 'What kind of food is agreeable to thee? What food, indeed, shall be brought for thee?' Filled with delight, the Rishi answered that ruler of men, O Bharata, saying, 'Let food that is proper be given to me.' Receiving these words with respect, the king said, 'So be it!' and then offered unto the Rishi food of the proper kind. Having finished his meals, the holy Chyavana, conversant with every duty, addressed the king and the queen, saying, 'I desire to slumber. O puissant one, sleep hinders me now.' Proceeding thence to a chamber that had been prepared for him, that best of Rishis then laid himself down upon a bed. The king and the queen sat themselves down. The Rishi said to them, 'Do not, while I sleep, awake me. Do ye keep yourselves awake and continually press my feet as long as I sleep.' Without the least scruple, Kusika, conversant with every duty, said, 'So be it!' Indeed, the king and the queen kept themselves awake all night, duly engaged in tending and serving the Rishi in the manner directed. The royal couple, O monarch accomplished the Rishi's bidding with earnestness and attention. Meanwhile the holy Brahmana, having thus laid his commands upon the king, slept soundly, without changing his posture or turning even once, for a space of one and twenty days. The king, O delighter of the Kurus, foregoing all food, along with his wife, sat joyfully the whole time engaged in tending and serving the Rishi. On the expiration of one and twenty days, the son of Bhrigu rose of his own accord. The great ascetic then went out of the room, without accosting them at all. Famished and toil-worn the king and the queen followed him, but that foremost of Rishis did not deign to cast a single glance upon any of them. Proceeding a little way, the son of Bhrigu disappeared in the very sight of the royal couple (making himself invisible by his Yoga-power). At this, the king, struck with grief, fell down on the earth. Comforted, he rose up soon, and accompanied by his queen, the monarch, possessed of great splendour, began to search everywhere for the Rishi."'" SECTION LIII "'Yudhishthira said, "After the Rishi had disappeared, what did the king do and what also did highly-blessed spouse do? Tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "Having lost sight of the Rishi, the king, overwhelmed with shame, toil-worn and losing his senses, returned to his palace, accompanied by his queen. Entering his mansion in a cheerless mood, he spoke not a word with any one. He thought only of that conduct of Chyavana. With a despairing heart he then proceeded to his chamber. There he saw the son of Bhrigu stretched as before on his bed. Beholding the Rishi there, they wondered much. Indeed, they began to reflect upon that very strange incident. The sight of the Rishi dispelled their fatigue. Taking their seats once more by his side, they again set themselves to gently press his feet as before. Meanwhile, the great ascetic continued to sleep soundly as before. Only, he now lay on another side. Endued with great energy, he thus passed another period measured by one and twenty day. Agitated by their fears, the royal couple showed no change in their attitude or sentiment towards the Rishi. Awaking then from his slumber, the ascetic addressed the king and the queen, saying, 'Do ye rub my body with oil. I wish to have a bath.' Famishing and toil-worn though they were they readily assented, and soon approached the Rishi with a costly oil that had been prepared by boiling it a hundred times. While the Rishi was seated at his ease, the king and the queen, restraining speech, continued to rub him. Endued with high ascetic merit the son of Bhrigu did not once utter the word 'Sufficient.' Bhrigu's son, however, saw that the royal couple were totally unmoved. Rising up suddenly, he entered the bathing chamber. The diverse article necessary for a bath and such as were fit for a king's use, were ready there. Without honouring, however, any of those articles by appropriating them to his use, the Rishi once more disappeared there and then by his Yoga-power, in the very sight of king Kusika (and his spouse). This, however, O chief of the Bharatas, failed to disturb the equanimity of the royal couple. The next time the puissant Rishi was seen seated, after a bath on the throne. Indeed, it was from that place that he then showed himself to the king and the queen, O delighter of the Kurus. With a cheerful face, king Kusika, together with his wife, then offered the Rishi cooked food with great reverence. Endued with wisdom, and with heart totally unmoved, Kusika made this offer. 'Let the food be brought' were the words that were then uttered by the ascetic. Assisted by his spouse, the king soon brought thither the food. There were diverse kinds of meat and different preparations also thereof. There was a great variety of vegetables also and pot-herbs. There were juicy cakes too among those viands, and several agreeable kinds of confectionery, and solid preparations of milk. Indeed, the viands offered presented different kinds of taste. Among them there was also some food--the produce of the wilderness--such as ascetics liked and took. Diverse agreeable kinds of fruit, fit to be eaten by kings, were also there. There were Vadaras and Ingudas and Kasmaryas and Bhallatakas. Indeed, the food that was offered contained such things as are taken by persons leading a domestic mode of life as also such things as are taken by denizens of the wilderness. Through fear of the Rishi's curse, the king had caused all kinds of food to be collected and dressed for his guest. All this food, brought from the kitchen, was placed before Chyavana. A seat was also placed for him and a bed too was spread. The viands were then caused to be covered with white cloths. Soon, however, Chyavana of Bhrigu's race set fire to all the things and reduced them to ashes. Possessed of great intelligence, the royal couple showed no wrath at this conduct of the Rishi, who once more, after this made himself invisible before the very eyes of the king and the queen. The Royal sage Kusika thereupon stood there in the same posture for the whole night, with his spouse by his side, and without speaking a word. Endued with great prosperity, he did not give way to wrath. Every day, good and pure food of diverse kinds, excellent beds, abundant articles needed for bath, and cloths of various kinds, were collected and kept in readiness in the palace for the Rishi. Indeed, Chyavana failed to notice any fault in the conduct of the king. Then the regenerate Rishi, addressing king Kusika, said unto him, 'Do thou with thy spouse, yoke thyself unto a car and bear me on it to whichever place I shall direct.' Without the least scruple, the king answered Chyavana endued with wealth of asceticism, saying, 'So be it!' and he further enquired of the Rishi, asking, 'Which car shall I bring? Shall it be my pleasure-car for making progress of pleasure, or, shall it be my battle-car?' Thus addressed by the delighted and contented monarch, the ascetic said unto him, 'Do thou promptly equip that car of thine with which thou penetratest into hostile cities. Indeed that battle-car of thine, with every weapon, with its standard and flags, its darts and javelins and golden columns and poles, should be made ready. Its rattle resembles the tinkling of bells. It is adorned with numerous arches made of pure gold. It is always furnished with high and excellent weapons numbering by hundreds!' The king said, 'So be it!' and soon caused his great battle-car to be equipped. And he yoked his wife thereto on the left and his own self on the right. And the king placed on the car, among its other equipments, the goad which had three handles and which had a point at once hard as the thunderbolt and sharp as the needle.[307] Having placed every requisite upon the car, the king said unto the Rishi, 'O holy one, whither shall the car proceed? O, let the son of Bhrigu issue his command! This thy car shall proceed to the place which thou mayst be pleased to indicate.' Thus addressed the holy man replied unto the king, saying, 'Let the car go hence, dragged slowly, step by step. Obedient to my will, do ye two proceed in such a way that I may not feel any fatigue, I should be borne away pleasantly, and let all thy people see this progress that I make through their midst. Let no person that comes to me, as I proceed along the road, be driven away. I shall make gifts of wealth unto all. Unto them amongst the Brahmanas that may approach me on the way, I shall grant their wishes and bestow upon all of them gems and wealth without stint. Let all this be accomplished, O king, and do not entertain any scruples.' Hearing these words of the Rishi, the king summoned his servants and said, 'Ye should, without any fear, give away whatever the ascetic will order.' Then jewels and gems in abundance, and beautiful women, and pairs of sheep, and coined and uncoined gold, and huge elephants resembling hills or mountain summits, and all the ministers of the king, began to follow the Rishi as he was borne away on that car. Cries of 'Oh' and 'Alas' arose from every part of the city which was plunged in grief at that extraordinary sight. And the king and the queen were suddenly struck by the Rishi with that goad equipped with sharp point. Though thus struck on the back and the cheeks, the royal couple still showed no sign of agitation. On the other hand, they continued to bear the Rishi on as before. Trembling from head to foot, for no food had passed their lips for fifty nights, and exceedingly weak, the heroic couple somehow succeeded in dragging that excellent car. Repeatedly and deeply cut by the goad, the royal couple became covered with blood. Indeed, O monarch, they then looked like a couple of Kinsuka trees in the flowering season. The citizens, beholding the plight to which their king and queen had been reduced, became afflicted with great grief. Filled with fear at the prospect of the curse of the Rishi, they kept silent under their misery. Gathering in knots they said unto each other, 'Behold the might of penances! Although all of us are angry, we are still unable to look at the Rishi! Great is the energy of the holy Rishi of cleaned soul! Behold also the endurance of the king and his royal spouse! Though worn out with toil and hunger, they are still bearing the car!' The son of Bhrigu notwithstanding the misery he caused to Kusika and his queen, failed to mark any sign of dissatisfaction or agitation in them." "'Bhishma continued, "The perpetuator of Bhrigu's race beholding the king and the queen totally unmoved, began to give away very largely (wealth obtained from the king's treasury) as if he were a second Lord of Treasures. At this act also, king Kusika showed no mark of dissatisfaction. He did as the Rishi commanded (in the matter of those gifts). Seeing all this, that illustrious and best of ascetics became delighted. Coming down from that excellent car, he unharnessed the royal couple. Having freed them, he addressed them duly. Indeed, the son of Bhrigu, in a soft, deep, and delighted voice, said, 'I am ready to give an excellent boon unto you both!' Delicate as they were, their bodies had been pierced with the goad. That best of ascetics, moved by affection, softly touched them with his hands whose healing virtues resembled those of nectar itself, O chief of the Bharatas. Then the king answered, 'My wife and I have felt no toil!' Indeed, all their fatigue had been dispelled by the puissance of the Rishi, and hence it was that the king could say so unto the Rishi. Delighted with their conduct, the illustrious Chyavana said unto them, 'I have never before spoken an untruth. It must, therefore, be as I have said. This spot on the banks of the Ganga is very delightful and auspicious. I shall, observant of a vow, dwell for a little while here, O king! Do thou return to thy city. Thou are fatigued! Thou shalt come again. Tomorrow, O king, thou shalt, returning with thy spouse, behold me even here. Thou shouldst not give way to wrath or grief. The time is come when thou shalt reap a great reward! That which is coveted by thee and which is in thy heart shall verily be accomplished.' Thus addressed by the Rishi, king Kusika, with a delighted heart, replied unto the Rishi in these words of grave import, 'I have cherished no wrath or grief, O highly-blessed one! We have been cleansed and sanctified by thee, O holy one! We have once more become endued with youth. Behold our bodies have become exceedingly beautiful and possessed of great strength. I do not any longer see those wounds and cicatrices that were caused by thee on our persons with thy goad. Verily, with my spouse, I am in good health. I see my goddess become as beautiful in body as an Apsara. Verily, she is endued with as much comeliness and splendour as she had ever been before. All this, O great ascetic, is due to thy grace. Verily, there is nothing astonishing in all this, O holy Rishi of puissance ever unbaffled.' Thus addressed by the king, Chyavana said unto him, 'Thou shalt, with thy spouse, return hither tomorrow, O monarch!' With these words, the royal sage Kusika was dismissed. Saluting the Rishi, the monarch, endued with a handsome body, returned to his capital like unto a second chief of the celestials. The counsellors then, with the priest, came out to receive him. His troops and the dancing women and all his subjects, also did the same. Surrounded by them all, king Kusika, blazing with beauty and splendour, entered his city, with a delighted heart, and his praises were hymned by bards and encomiasts. Having entered his city and performed all his morning rites, he ate with his wife. Endued with great splendour, the monarch then passed the night happily. Each beheld the other to be possessed anew of youth. All their afflictions and pains having ceased, they beheld each other to resemble a celestial. Endued with the spendour they had obtained as a boon from that foremost of Brahmanas, and possessed as they were of forms that were exceedingly comely and beautiful, both of them passed a happy night in their bed. Meanwhile, the spreader of the feats of Bhrigu's race, viz., the Rishi possessed of the wealth of penances, converted, by his Yoga-power, that delightful wood on the bank of the Ganga into a retreat full of wealth of every kind and adorned with every variety of jewels and gems in consequence of which it surpassed in beauty and splendour the very abode of the chief of the celestials."'" SECTION LIV "'Bhishma said, "When that night passed away, the high-souled king Kusika awoke and went through his morning rites. Accompanied by his wife he then proceeded towards that wood which the Rishi had selected for his residence. Arrived there, the monarch saw a palatial mansion made entirely of gold. Possessed of a thousand columns each of which was made of gems and precious stones, it looked like an edifice belonging to the Gandharvas.[308] Kusika beheld in every part of that structure evidences of celestial design. And he beheld hills with delightful valleys, and lakes with lotuses on their bosom, and mansions full of costly and curious articles, and gateways and arches, O Bharata. And the king saw many open glades and open spots carpeted with grassy verdure, and resembling level fields of gold. And he saw many Sahakaras adorned with blossoms, and Ketakas and Uddalakas, and Dhavas and Asokas, and blossoming Kundas, and Atimuktas. And he saw there many Champakas and Tilakas and Bhavyas and Panasas and Vanjulas and Karnikaras adorned with flowers. And the king beheld many Varanapushpas and the creepers called Ashtapadika all clipped properly and beautifully.[309] And the king beheld trees on which lotuses of all varieties bloomed in all their beauty, and some of which bore flowers of every season. And he noticed also many mansions that looked like celestial cars or like beautiful mountains. And at some places, O Bharata, there were tanks and lakes full of cool water and at others were those that were full of warm or hot water. And there were diverse kinds of excellent seats and costly beds, and bedsteads made of gold and gems and overlaid with cloths and carpets of great beauty and value. Of comestible there were enormous quantities, well-dressed and ready for use. And there were talking parrots and she-parrots and Bhringarajas and Kokilas and Catapatras with Koyashtikas and Kukkubhas, and peacocks and cocks and Datyuhas and Jivajivakas and Chakoras and monkeys and swans and Sarasas and Chakravakas.[310] Here and there he beheld bevies of rejoicing Apsaras and conclaves of happy Gandharvas, O monarch. And he beheld other Gandharvas at other places rejoicing with their dear spouses. The king sometimes beheld these sights and sometimes could not see them (for they seemed to disappear from before his eyes). The monarch heard also melodious strains of vocal music and the agreeable voices of preceptors engaged in lecturing to their disciples on the Vedas and the scriptures. And the monarch also heard the harmonious cackle of the geese sporting in the lakes. Beholding such exceedingly wonderful sights, the king began to reflect inwardly, saying, 'Is this a dream? Or is all this due to an aberration of my mind? Or, is it all real? O, I have, without casting off my earthly tenement, attained to the beatitude of heaven! This land is either the sacred country of the Uttara-Kurus, or the abode, called Amaravati, of the chief of the celestials! O, what are these wonderful sights that I behold!' Reflecting in this strain, the monarch at last saw that foremost of Rishis. In that palace of gold (endued) with columns (made) of jewels and gems, lay the son of Bhrigu stretched on a costly and excellent bed. With his wife by his side the king approached with a delighted heart the Rishi as he lay on that bed. Chyavana, however, quickly disappeared at this, with the bed itself upon which he lay. The king then beheld the Rishi at another part of those woods seated on a mat made of Kusa grass, and engaged in mentally reciting some high Mantras. By his Yoga-power, even thus did that Brahmana stupefy the king. In a moment that delightful wood, those bevies of Apsaras, those bands of Gandharvas, those beautiful trees,--all disappeared. The bank of the Ganga became as silent as usual, and presented the old aspect of its being covered with Kusa grass and ant-hills. King Kusika with his wife having beheld that highly wonderful sight and its quick disappearance also, became filled with amazement. With a delighted heart, the monarch addressed his wife and said unto her, 'Behold, O amiable one, the various agreeable scenes and sights, occurring nowhere else, which we two have just witnessed! All this is due to the grace of Bhrigu's son and the puissance of his penances. By penances all that becomes attainable which one cherishes in one's imagination. Penances are superior to even the sovereignty over the three worlds. By penances well-performed, emancipation itself may be achieved. Behold, the puissance of the high-souled and celestial Rishi Chyavana derived from his penances. He can, at his pleasure, create even other worlds (than those which exist). Only Brahmanas are born in this world to attain to speech and understanding and acts that are sacred. Who else than Chyavana could do all this? Sovereignty may be acquired with ease. But the status of a Brahmana is not so attainable. It was through the puissance of a Brahmana that we were harnessed to a car like well-broken animals!' These reflections that passed through the king's brain became known to Chyavana. Ascertaining the king's thoughts, the Rishi addressed him and said, 'Come hither quickly!' Thus addressed, the king and the queen approached the great ascetic, and, bending their heads, they worshipped him who deserved worship. Uttering a benediction upon the monarch, the Rishi, possessed of great intelligence, O chief of men, comforted the king and said, 'Sit down on that seat!' After this, O monarch, the son of Bhrigu, without guile or insincerity of any kind, gratified the king with many soft words, and then said, 'O king, thou hast completely subjugated the five organs of action and the five organs of knowledge with the mind as their sixth. Thou hast for this come out unscathed from the fiery ordeal I had prepared for thee. I have been properly honoured and adored, O son, by thee, O foremost of all persons possessed of speech. Thou hast no sin, not even a minute one, in thee! Give me leave, O king, for I shall now proceed to the place I came from. I have been exceedingly pleased with thee, O monarch! Do thou accept the boon I am ready to give.' "'"Kusika said, 'In thy presence, O holy one, I have stayed like one staying in the midst of a fire. That I have not yet, O chief of Bhrigu's race been consumed, is sufficient! Even this is the highest boon that has been obtained, O delighter of Bhrigu! That thou hast been gratified by me, O Brahmana, and that I have succeeded in rescuing my race from destruction, O sinless one, constitute in my case the best boons. This I regard, O learned Brahmana, as a distinct evidence of thy grace. The end of my life has been accomplished. Even this is what I regard the very end of my sovereignty. Even this is the highest fruit of my penances![311] If, O learned Brahmana, thou hast been pleased with me, O delighter of Bhrigu, then do thou expound some doubts which are in my mind!'"'" SECTION LV "'"Chyavana said, 'Do thou accept a boon from me. Do thou also, O chief of men, tell me what the doubt is that is in thy mind. I shall certainly accomplish all thy purposes.' "'"Kusika said, 'If thou hast been gratified by me, O holy one, do thou then, O son of Bhrigu, tell me thy object in residing in my palace for some time, for I desire to hear it. What was thy object in sleeping on the bed I assigned thee for one and twenty days continuously, without changing sides? O foremost of ascetics, what also was thy object, again, in going out of the room without speaking a single word? Why didst thou, again, without any ostensible reason, make thyself invisible, and once more become visible? Why, O learned Brahmana, didst thou again, lay thyself down on the bed and sleep as before for one and twenty days? For what reason didst thou go out after thou wert rubbed by us with oil in view of thy bath? Why also, after having caused diverse kinds of food in my palace to be collected, didst thou consume them with the aid of fire? What was the cause of thy sudden journey through my city on the car? What object hadst thou in view in giving away so much wealth? What was thy motive in showing us the wonders of the forest created by the Yoga-puissance? What indeed was thy motive for showing, O great ascetic, so many palatial mansions made of gold and so many bedsteads supported on posts of jewels, and gems? Why also did all these wonders vanish from our sight? I wish to hear the cause of all this. In thinking of all these acts of thine, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, I became stupefied repeatedly. I fail to find what the certain motive was which influenced thee! O thou, that art endued with wealth of penances, I wish to hear the truth about all those acts of thine in detail.' "'"Chyavana said, 'Listen to me as I tell thee in detail the reasons which had impelled me in all these acts of mine. Asked by thee, O monarch, I cannot refuse to enlighten thee. In days past, on one occasion, when the deities had assembled together, the Grandsire Brahman said some words. I heard them, O king, and shall presently repeat them to thee. "In consequence of a contention between Brahmana and Kshatriya energy, there will occur an intermixture in my race.[312] Thy grandson, O king, will become endued with great energy and puissance." Hearing this, I came hither, resolved to exterminate thy race. Indeed, I came, O Kusika, seeking the utter extermination of thy race,--in fact, for consuming into ashes all thy descendants. Impelled by this motive I came to thy palace, O monarch, and said unto thee, "I shall observe some vow. Do thou attend upon me and serve me dutifully." While residing, however, in thy house I failed to find any laches in thee. It is for that reason, O royal sage, that thou art still alive, for otherwise thou wouldst have by this time been numbered with the dead. It was with this resolution that I slept for one and twenty days in the hope that somebody would awake me before I arose of my own accord. Thou, however, with thy wife, didst not awaken me. Even then, O best of kings, I became pleased with thee. Rising from my bed I went out of the chamber without accosting any of you. I did this, O monarch, in the hope that thou wouldst ask me and thus I would have an opportunity of cursing thee. I then made myself invisible, and again showed myself in the room of thy palace, and, once more betaking myself to Yoga, slept for one and twenty days. The motive that impelled me was this. Worn out with toil and hunger you two would be angry with me and do what would be unpleasant to me. It was from this intention that I caused thyself and thy spouse to be afflicted with hunger. In thy heart however, O king, the slightest feeling of wrath or vexation did not rise. For this, O monarch, I became highly delighted with thee. When I caused diverse kinds of food to be brought and then set fire to them, I hoped that thyself with thy wife wouldst give way to wrath at the sight. Even that act however, of mine was tolerated by thee. I then ascended the car, O monarch, and addressed thee, saying, "Do thou with thy wife bear me." Thou didst what I bade, without the least scruple, O king! I became filled with delight at this. The gifts of wealth I made could not provoke thy anger. Pleased with thee, O king, I created with the aid of my Yoga puissance that forest which thyself with thy wife didst behold here. Listen, O monarch, to the object I had. For gratifying thee and thy queen I caused thee to have a glimpse of heaven. All those things which thou hast seen in these woods, O monarch, are a foretaste of heaven. O best of kings, for a little while I caused thee and thy spouse to behold, in even your earthly bodies, some sights of heaven. All this was done for showing the puissance of penances and the reward that is in store for righteousness. The desire that arose in thy heart, O monarch, at the sight of those delightful objects, is known to me. Thou becamest desirous of obtaining the status of a Brahmana and the merit of penances, O lord of Earth, disregarding the sovereignty of the earth, nay, the sovereignty of very heaven! That which thou thoughtest, O king, was even this. The status of a Brahmana is exceedingly difficult to obtain; after becoming a Brahmana, it is exceedingly difficult to obtain the status of a Rishi; for even a Rishi it is difficult to become an ascetic! I tell thee that thy desire will be gratified. From thee, O Kusika, will spring a Brahmana, who shall be called after thy name. The person that will be the third in descent from thee shall attain to the status of a Brahmana. Through the energy of the Bhrigus, thy grandson, O monarch, will be an ascetic endued with the splendour of fire. He shall always strike all men, indeed, the inhabitants of the three worlds, with fear. I tell thee the truth. O royal sage, do thou accept the boon that is now in thy mind. I shall soon set out on a tour to all the sacred waters. Time is expiring.' "'"Kusika said, 'Even this, O great ascetic, is a high boon, in my case, for thou hast been gratified by me. Let that take place which thou hast said. Let my grandson become a Brahmana, O sinless one! Indeed, let the status of Brahmanahood attach to my race, O holy one. This is the boon I ask for. I desire to once more ask thee in detail, O holy one! In what way, O delighter of Bhrigu, will the status of Brahmanahood attach to my race? Who will be my friend? Who will have my affection and respect?'"'"[313] SECTION LVI "'"Chyavana said, 'I should certainly, O chief of men, tell you everything about the circumstance for which, O monarch, I came hither for exterminating thy race. This is well-known, O king, that the Kshatriyas should always have the assistance of the sons of Bhrigu in the matter of sacrifices. Through an irresistible decree of Destiny, the Kshatriyas and the Bhargavas will fall out. The Kshatriyas, O king, will slay the descendants of Bhrigu. Afflicted by an ordinance of fate, they will exterminate the race of Bhrigu, not sparing even infants in their mothers' wombs. There will then spring in Bhrigu's race a Rishi of the name of Urva. Endued with great energy, he will in splendour certainly resemble fire or the sun. He will cherish such wrath (upon hearing of the extermination of his race) as will be sufficient to consume the three worlds. He will be competent to reduce the whole earth with all her mountains and forests into ashes. For a little while he will quell the flames of that fiery rage, throwing it into the Mare's mouth that wanders through the ocean. He will have a son of the name of Richika. The whole science of arms, O sinless one, in its embodied form will come to him, for the extermination of the entire Kshatriya race, through a decree of Destiny. Receiving that science by inward light, he will, by Yoga-puissance, communicate it to his son, the highly-blessed Jamadagni of cleansed soul. That tiger of Bhrigu's race will bear that science in his mind. O thou of righteous soul, Jamadagni will wed a girl, taking her from thy race, for spreading its glory, O chief of the Bharatas. Having obtained for wife the daughter of Gadhi and thy grand-daughter, O king that great ascetic will beget a regenerate son endued with Kshatriya accomplishments. In thy race will be born a son, a Kshatriya endued with the virtues of a Brahmana. Possessed of great righteousness, he will be the son of Gadhi. Known by the name of Viswamitra, he will in energy come to be regarded as the equal of Vrihaspati himself, the preceptor of the celestials. The illustrious Richika will grant this son to thy race, this Kshatriya that will be endued with high penances. In the matter of this exchange of sons, (viz., a Kshatriya son in the race of Bhrigu and a Brahmana son in thy race) the cause will be two women. All this will happen at the command of the grandsire. It will never be otherwise. Unto one that is third in descent from thee, the status of Brahmanahood will attach. Thou shalt become a relative (by marriage) of the Bhargavas.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the high-souled ascetic Chyavana, king Kusika became filled with joy, and made answer in the following words, 'Indeed, O best of the Bharatas', he said, 'So be it!' Endued with high energy, Chyavana once more addressed the king, and urged him to accept a boon from himself. The king replied, 'Very well. From thee, O great ascetic, I shall obtain the fruition of my wish. Let my race become invested with the status of Brahmanahood, and let it always set its heart upon righteousness.' The ascetic Chyavana, thus solicited, granted the king's prayer, and bidding farewell to the monarch, set out on his intended tour to the sacred waters. I have now told thee everything, O Bharata, relating to thy questions, viz., how the Bhrigus and the Kusikas became connected with each other by marriage. Indeed, O king, everything fell out as the Rishi Chyavana had said. The birth of Rama (of Bhrigu's race) and of Viswamitra (of Kusika's race) happened in the way that Chyavana had indicated."'" SECTION LVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Hearing thy words I become stupefied, O grandsire! Reflecting that the earth is now destitute of a very large number of kings all of whom were possessed of great prosperity, my heart becomes filled with grief. Having conquered the earth and acquired kingdoms numbered by hundreds, O Bharata, I turn with grief, O Grandsire, at the thought of the millions of men I have slaughtered. Alas, what will be the plight of those foremost ladies who have been deprived by us of husbands and sons and maternal uncles and brothers? Having slain those Kurus--our kinsmen, that is, our friends and well-wishers,--we shall have to sink in hell, heads (hanging) downwards. There is no doubt of this. I desire, O Bharata, to address my body to severe penances. With that end in view, O king, I wish to receive instructions from thee."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The high-souled Bhishma, hearing these words of Yudhishthira, reflected upon them acutely with the aid of his understanding, and addressed Yudhishthira in reply.' "'Bhishma said, "Hear what I say unto thee. It is exceedingly wonderful, and constitutes a great mystery. The topic is the object that creatures obtain after death as the rewards of particular acts or courses of conduct they follow. One attains to Heaven by penances. By penances one attains to fame. By penances, O puissant king, one attains to length of life and all articles of enjoyment. By penances one attains to knowledge, to science, to health and freedom from disease, beauty of person, prosperity, and blessedness, O chief of Bharata's race. By penances one attains to wealth. By observing the vow of taciturnity one succeeds in bringing the whole world under one's sway. By making gifts one acquires all kinds of enjoyable articles. By observing the right of Diksha one acquires birth in a good and high family. Those that spend their lives subsisting only upon fruits and roots (and avoiding cooked food) succeed in obtaining kingdom and sovereignty. Those that live upon the leaves of plants and trees as their food succeed in attaining to heaven. One that subsists upon water only attains to heaven. By making gifts one simply increases one's wealth. By serving with reverence one's preceptor one acquires learning. By performing Sraddhas every day in honour of one's Pitris (manes), one acquires a large number of children. By observing Diksha upon potherbs and vegetables, one acquires a large number of kine. Those that subsist upon grass and straw succeed in attaining to heaven. By bathing thrice every day with the necessary rites one acquires a large number of spouses. By drinking water alone one acquires residence in the regions of Prajapati. The Brahmana, who bathes every day and recites sacred Mantras in the twilights, becomes possessed of the status of Daksha himself. By worshipping the deities in a wilderness or desert, one acquires a kingdom or sovereignty, and by observing the vow of casting off the body by a long fast, one ascends to Heaven. One possessed of the wealth of penances and always passing his days in Yoga obtains good beds and seats and vehicles. Casting off the body by entering a blazing fire, one becomes an object of reverence in the region of Brahman. Those that lie on the hard and bare ground acquire houses and beds. Those that clothe themselves in rags and barks obtain good robes and ornaments. By avoiding the several agreeable tastes one succeeds in acquiring great prosperity. By abstaining from meat and fish, one gets long-lived children. One who passes some time in that mode of life which is called Udavasa, becomes the very lord of Heaven. The man who speaks the truth, O best of men, succeeds in sporting happily with the deities themselves. By making gifts one acquires great fame in consequence of one's high achievements. By abstention from cruelty one acquires health and freedom from disease. By serving Brahmanas with reverence one attains to kingdom and sovereignty, and the high status of a Brahmana. By making gifts of water and other drinks, one acquires eternal fame in consequence of high achievements. By making gifts of food one acquires diverse articles of enjoyment. One who gives peace unto all creatures (by refraining from doing them any injury), becomes freed from every region. By serving the deities one obtains a kingdom and celestial beauty. By presenting lights at places which are dark and frequented by men, one acquires a good vision. By giving away good and beautiful objects one acquires a good memory and understanding. By giving away scents and garlands, one acquires fame that spreads over a large area. Those who abstain from shaving off their hair and beards succeed in obtaining excellent children. By observing fasts and Diksha and baths, O Bharata, for twelve years (according to the ordinance), one acquires a region that is superior to that attainable by unreturning heroes. By bestowing one's daughter on an eligible bridegroom according to the Brahma form, one obtains, O best of men, male and female slaves and ornaments and fields and houses. By performing sacrifices and observing fasts, one ascends to Heaven, O Bharata. The man who gives away fruits and flowers succeeds in acquiring auspicious knowledge. The man who gives a thousand kine with horns adorned with gold, succeeds in acquiring heaven. Even this has been said by the very deities in a conclave in heaven. One who gives away a Kapila cow with her calf, with a brazen pot of milking with horns adorned with gold, and possessed of diverse other accomplishments, obtains the fruition of all his wishes from that cow. Such a person, in consequence of that act of gift, resides in heaven for as many years as there are hairs on the body of the cow and rescues in the next world (from the misery of hell) his sons and grandsons and all his race to the seventh degree.[314] The regions of the Vasus become attainable to that man who gives away a cow with horns beautifully decorated with gold, accompanied with a brazen jar for milking, along with a piece of cloth embroidered with gold, a measure of sesame and a sum of money as Dakshina. A gift of kine rescues the giver in the next world when he finds himself falling into the deep darkness of hell and restrained by his own acts in this world, like a boat with sails that have caught the air rescuing a person from being drowned in the sea. He who bestows a daughter according to the Brahma form upon an eligible person, or who makes a gift of land unto a Brahmana, or who gives food (to a Brahmana) according to due rites, succeeds in attaining to the region of Purandara. That man who makes a gift of a house, equipped with every kind of furniture, unto a Brahmana given to Vedic studies and possessed of every accomplishment and good behaviour, acquires residence in the country of the Uttara-Kurus. By making gifts of draft bullocks, a person acquires the region of the Vasus. Gifts of gold lead to heaven. Gifts of pure gold lead to greater merit still. By making a gift of an umbrella one acquires a palatial mansion. By making a gift of a pair of sandals or shoes one acquires good vehicles. The reward attached to a gift of cloths is personal beauty, and by making gifts of scents one becomes a fragrant person in one's next life. One who gives flowers and fruits and plants and trees unto a Brahmana, acquires, without any labour, palatial mansion equipped with beautiful women and full of plenty of wealth. The giver of food and drink of different tastes and of other articles of enjoyment succeeds in acquiring a copious supply of such articles. The giver, again, of houses and cloths gets articles of a similar kind. There is no doubt about it. That person who makes gifts of garlands and incense and scents and unguents and the articles needed by men after a bath, and floral wreaths, unto Brahmanas, becomes freed from every disease and possessed of personal beauty, sports in joy in the region reserved for great kings. The man, O king, who makes unto a Brahmana the gift of a house that is stored with grain, furnished with beds full of much wealth, auspicious, and delightful, acquires a palatial residence. He who gives unto a Brahmana a good bed perfumed with fragrant scents, overlaid with an excellent sheet, and equipped with pillows, wins without any effort on his part a beautiful wife, belonging to a high family and of agreeable manners. The man who takes to a hero's bed on the field of battle becomes the equal of the Grandsire Brahman himself. There is no end higher than this. Even this is what the great Rishis have declared."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of his grandfather, Yudhishthira, the delighter of the Kurus, became desirous of the end that is reserved for heroes and no longer expressed any disgust at leading a householder's mode of life. Then, O foremost of men, Yudhishthira, addressing all the other sons of Pandu, said unto them, "Let the words which our grandfather has said command your faith." At this, all the Pandavas with the famous Draupadi amongst them, applauded the words of Yudhishthira and said, "Yes."'" SECTION LVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire, O chief of the Bharatas, to hear from thee what the rewards are which are attached, O best of the Kurus, to the planting of trees and the digging of tanks." "'Bhishma said, "A piece of land that is agreeable to the sight, fertile, situate in the midst of delightful scenes adorned with diverse kinds of metals, and inhabited by all sorts of creatures, is regarded as the foremost of sports. A particular portion of such land should be selected for digging a tank. I shall tell thee, in due order, about the different kinds of tanks. I shall also tell thee what the merits also are that attach to the digging of tanks (with the view of drawing water for the benefit of all creatures). The man who causes a tank to be dug becomes entitled to the respect and worship of the three worlds. A tank full of water is as agreeable and beneficial as the house of a friend. It is gratifying to Surya himself. It also contributes to growth to the deities. It is the foremost of all things that lead to fame (with respect to the person who causes it to be excavated). The wise have said that the excavation of a tank contributes to the aggregate of three, Righteousness, Wealth and Pleasure. A tank is said to be properly excavated, if it is made on a piece of land that is inhabited by respectable persons. A tank is said to be subservient to all the four purposes of living creatures. Tanks, again, are regarded as constituting the excellent beauty of a country. The deities and human beings and Gandharvas and Pitris and Uragas and Rakshasas and even immobile beings--all resort to a tank full of water as their refuge. I shall, therefore, tell thee what the merits are that have been said by great Rishis to be attached to tanks, and what the rewards are that are attainable by persons that cause them to be excavated. The wise have said that that man reaps the merit of an Agnihotra sacrifice in whose tank water is held in the season of the rains. The high reward in the world that is reaped by the person who makes a gift of a thousand kine is won by that man in whose tank water is held in the season of autumn. The person in whose tank water occurs in the cold season acquires the merit of one who performs a sacrifice with plentiful gifts of gold. That person in whose tanks water occurs in the season of dew, wins, the wise have said, the merits of an Agnishtoma sacrifice. That man in whose well-made tank water occurs in the season of spring acquires the merit of the Atiratra sacrifice. That man in whose tank water occurs in the season of summer acquires, the Rishis say, the merits that attach to a horse-sacrifice. That man rescues all his race in whose tank kine are seen to allay their thirst and from which righteous men draw their water. That man in whose tank kine slake their thirst as also other animals and birds, and human beings, acquires the merits of a horse-sacrifice. Whatever measure of water is drunk from one's tank and whatever measure is taken therefrom by others for purposes of bathing, all become stored for the benefit of the excavator of the tank and he enjoys the same for unending days in the next world. Water, especially in the other world, is difficult to obtain, O son. A gift of drink produces eternal happiness. Make gifts of sesame here. Make gifts of water. Do thou also give lamps (for lighting dark places.) While alive and awake, do thou sport in happiness with kinsmen. These are acts which thou shalt not be able to achieve in the other world.[315] The gift of drink, O chief of men, is superior to every other gift. In point of merit it is distinguished above all other gifts. Therefore, do thou make gifts of water. Even thus have the Rishis declared what the high merits of the excavation of tanks are I shall now discourse to thee on the planting of trees. Of immobile objects six classes have been spoken of. They are Vrikshas, Gulmas, Latas, Vallis, Twaksaras, and Trinas of diverse kinds.[316] These are the several kinds of vegetables. Listen now to the merit that attaches to their planting. By planting trees one acquires fame in the world of men and auspicious rewards in the world hereafter. Such a man is applauded and reverenced in the world of the Pitris. Such a man's name does not perish even when he becomes a citizen of the world of deities. The man who plants trees rescues the ancestors and descendants of both his paternal and maternal lines. Do thou, therefore, plant trees, O Yudhishthira! The trees that a man plants become the planter's children. There is no doubt about this. Departing from this world, such a man ascends to Heaven. Verily many eternal regions of bliss become his. Trees gratify the deities by their flowers; the Pitris by their fruits; and all guests and strangers by the shadow they give. Kinnaras and Uragas and Rakshasas and deities and Gandharvas and human beings, as also Rishis, all have recourse to trees as their refuge. Trees that bear flowers and fruits gratify all men. The planter of trees is rescued in the next world by the trees he plants like children rescuing their own father. Therefore, the man that is desirous of achieving his own good, should plant trees by the side of tanks and cherish them like his own children. The trees that a man plants are, according to both reason and the scriptures, the children of the planter. That Brahmana who excavates a tank, and he that plants trees, and he that performs sacrifices, are all worshipped in heaven even as men that are devoted to truthfulness of speech. Hence one should cause tanks to be excavated and trees to be planted, worship the deities in diverse sacrifices, and speak the truth."'" SECTION LIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Amongst all those gifts that are mentioned in the treatises other than the Vedas, which gift, O chief of Kuru's race, is the most distinguished in thy opinion? O puissant one, great is the curiosity I feel with respect to this matter. Do thou discourse to me also of that gift which follows the giver into the next world."[317] "'Bhishma said, "An assurance unto all creatures of love and affection and abstention from every kind of injury, acts of kindness and favour done to a person in distress, gifts of articles made unto one that solicits with thirst and agreeable to the solicitor's wishes, and whatever gifts are made without the giver's ever thinking of them as gifts made by him, constitute, O chief of Bharata's race, the highest and best of gifts. Gift of gold, gift of kine, and gift of earth,--these are regarded as sin-cleansing. They rescue the giver from his evil acts. O chief of men, do thou always make such gifts unto those that are righteous. Without doubt, gifts rescue the giver from all his sins. That person who wishes to make his gifts eternal should always give unto persons possessed of the requisite qualifications whatever articles are desired by all and whatever things are the best in his house. The man who makes gifts of agreeable things and who does to others what is agreeable to others, always succeeds in obtaining things that are agreeable to himself. Such a person certainly becomes agreeable unto all, both here and hereafter. That man, O Yudhishthira, is a cruel wretch, who, through vanity, does not, to the extent of his means, attend to the wishes of one who is poor and helpless, and who solicits assistance.[318] He is verily the foremost of men who shows favour unto even an helpless enemy fallen into distress when such enemy presents himself and prays for help. No man is equal to him (in merit) who satisfies the hunger of a person that is emaciated, possessed of learning, destitute of the means of support, and weakened by misery. One should always, O son of Kunti, dispel by every means in one's power, the distress of righteous persons observant of vows and acts, who, though destitute of sons and spouses and plunged into misery, do not yet solicit others for any kind of assistance. Those persons who do not utter blessings upon the deities and men (in expectation of gifts), who are deserving of reverence and always contented, and who subsist upon such alms as they get without solicitation of any kind, are regarded as veritable snakes of virulent poison. Do thou, O Bharata, always protect thyself from them by making gifts unto them. They are competent to make the foremost of Ritwikas. Thou art to find them out by means of thy spies and agents.[319] Thou shouldst honour those men by gifts of good houses equipped with every necessary article, with slaves and serving men, with good robes and vestments, O son of Kuru, and with all articles competent to contribute to one's pleasure and happiness. Righteous men of righteous deeds should make such gifts, impelled by the motive that it is their duty to act in that way and not from desire of reaping any rewards therefrom. Verily good men should act in this way so that the virtuous men described above might not, O Yudhishthira, feel any disinclination to accept those gifts sanctified by devotion and faith. There are persons bathed in learning and bathed in vows. Without depending upon anybody they obtain their means of subsistence. These Brahmanas of rigid vows are devoted to Vedic study and penances without proclaiming their practices to any one. Whatever gifts thou mayst make unto those persons of pure behaviour, of thorough mastery over their senses, and always contented with their own wedded spouses in the matter of desire, are sure to win for thee a merit that will accompany thee into all the worlds into which thou mayst go. One reaps the same merit by making gifts unto regenerate persons of restrained souls which one wins by properly pouring libations unto the sacred fire morning and evening. Even this is the sacrifice spread out for thee,--a sacrifice that is sanctified by devotion and faith and that is endued with Dakshina. It is distinguished above all other sacrifices. Let that sacrifice ceaselessly flow from thee as thou givest away.[320] Performed in view of such men, O Yudhishthira, a sacrifice in which the water that is sprinkled for dedicating gifts constitutes the oblations in honour of the Pitris, and devotion and worship rendered unto such superior men, serves to free one of the debts one owes to the deities.[321] Those persons that do not yield to wrath and that never desire to take even a blade of grass belonging to others, as also they that are of agreeable speech, deserve to receive from us the most reverent worship. Such persons and others (because free from desire) never pay their regards to the giver. Nor do they strive for obtaining gifts. They should, however, be cherished by givers as they cherish their own sons. I bend my head unto them. From them also both Heaven and Hell may become one's.[322] Ritwiks and Purohitas and preceptors, when conversant with the Vedas and when behaving mildly towards disciples, become such. Without doubt, Kshatriya energy loses its force upon a Brahmana when it encounters him. Thinking that thou art a king, that thou art possessed of great power, and that thou hast affluence, do not, O Yudhishthira, enjoy thy affluence without giving anything unto the Brahmanas. Observing the duties of thy own order, do thou worship the Brahmanas with whatever wealth thou hast, O sinless one, for purposes of adornment or sustaining thy power. Let the Brahmanas live in whatever way they like. Thou shouldst always bend thy head unto them with reverence. Let them always rejoice in thee as thy children, living happily and according to their wishes. Who else than thou, O best of the Kurus, is competent to provide the means of subsistence for such Brahmanas as are endued with eternal contentment as are thy well-wishers, and as are gratified by only a little? As women have one eternal duty, in this world, viz., dependence upon and obedient service to their husbands, and as such duty constitutes their only end, even so is the service to Brahmanas our eternal duty and end. If, at sight of cruelties and other sinful acts in Kshatriyas, the Brahmanas, O son, unhonoured by us, forsake us all, I say, of what use would life be to us, in the absence of all contact with the Brahmanas, especially as we shall then have to drag on our existence without being able to study the Vedas to perform sacrifices, to hope for worlds of bliss hereafter, and to achieve great feats? I shall, in this connection, tell thee what the eternal usage is. In days of yore, O king, the Kshatriyas used to serve the Brahmanas. The Vaisya in a similar manner used in those days to worship the royal order, and the Sudra to worship the Vaisya. Even this is what is heard. The Brahmana was like a blazing fire. Without being able to touch him or approach his presence, the Sudra used to serve the Brahmana from a distance. It was only the Kshatriya and the Vaisya who could serve the Brahmana by touching his person or approaching his presence. The Brahmanas are endued with a mild disposition. They are truthful in behaviour. They are followers of the true religion. When angry, they are like snakes of virulent poison. Such being their nature, do thou, O Yudhishthira, serve and attend upon them with obedience and reverence. The Brahmanas are superior to even those that are higher than the high and the low. The energy and penances of even those Kshatriyas who blaze forth with energy and might, become powerless and neutralised when they come in contact with the Brahmanas. My sire himself is not dearer to me than the Brahmanas. My mother is not dearer to me than they. My grandsire, O king, is not dearer, my own self is not dearer, my life itself is not dearer, O king, to me than the Brahmanas! On earth there is nothing, O Yudhishthira, that is dearer to me than thou. But, O chief of Bharata's race, the Brahmanas are dearer to me than even thou. I tell thee truly, O son of Pandu! I swear by this truth, by which I hope to acquire all those regions of bliss that have been Santanu's. I behold those sacred regions with Brahma shining conspicuously before them. I shall repair thither, O son, and reside in them for unending days. Beholding these regions, O best of the Bharatas (with my spiritual eyes), I am filled with delight at the thought of all these acts which I have done in aid and honour of the Brahmanas, O monarch!"'" SECTION LX "'Yudhishthira said, "Unto which of two Brahmanas, when both happen to be equally pure in behaviour, equally possessed of learning and purity, of birth and blood, but differing from each other in only this, viz., the one solicits and the other does not,--I ask, O grandsire, unto which of these two would a gift be more meritorious?" "'Bhishma said, "It has been said. O son of Pritha, that a gift made unto an unsoliciting person is productive of greater merit than one made to a person who solicits. One possessed of contentment is certainly more deserving than that person who is destitute of that virtue and is, therefore, helpless amidst the storms and buffets of the world. The firmness of a Kshatriya consists in the protection he gives to others. The firmness of a Brahmana consists in his refusal to solicit. The Brahmana possessed of steadiness and learning and contentment gladdens the deities. The wise have said that an act of solicitation on the part of a poor man is a great reproach. Those persons that solicit others are said to annoy the world like thieves and robbers.[323] The person who solicits is said to meet with death. The giver, however, is said not to meet with death. The giver is said to grant life unto him who solicits. By an act of gift, O Yudhishthira, the giver is said to rescue his own self also. Compassion is a very high virtue. Let people make gift from compassion unto those that solicit. Those, however, that do not beg, but are plunged into poverty and distress should be respectfully invited to receive assistance. If such Brahmanas, who must be regarded as the foremost of their order, live in thy kingdom, thou shouldst regard them as fire covered with ashes. Blazing with penances, they are capable of consuming the whole earth. Such persons, O son of Kuru's race, though not generally worshipped, should still be regarded as deserving of worship in every way. Endued with knowledge and spiritual vision and penances and Yoga, such persons always deserve our worship. O scorcher of foes, do thou always offer worship unto such Brahmanas. One should repair of one's own accord unto those foremost of Brahmanas that do not solicit anybody and make unto them gifts of diverse kinds of wealth in abundance. The merit that flows from properly pouring libations into the sacred fire every morning and evening is won by the person who makes gifts unto a Brahmana endued with learning, with the Vedas and with high and excellent vows. Thou shouldst, O son of Kunti, invite those foremost of Brahmanas who are cleansed by learning and the Vedas and vows, who live in independence, whose Vedic studies and penances are hidden without being proclaimed from the house-top, and who are observant of excellent vows, and honour them with gifts of well-constructed and delightful houses equipped with servitors and robes and furniture, and with all other articles of pleasure and enjoyment. Conversant with all duties and possessed of minute vision, those foremost of Brahmanas, O Yudhishthira, may accept the gifts offered to them with devotion and respect, thinking that they should not refuse and disappoint the giver. Thou shouldst invite those Brahmanas whose wives wait for their return like tillers in expectation of rain. Having fed them well thou shouldst make gifts of additional food unto them so that upon their return home their expectant wives might be able to distribute that food among their children that had clamoured for food but that had been pacified with promises Brahmacharins of restrained senses, O son, by eating at one's house in the forenoon, cause the three sacrificial fires to be gratified with the householder at whose house they eat. Let the sacrifice of gift proceed in thy house at midday, O son, and do thou also give away kine and gold and robes (unto thy guests after feeding them well). By conducting thyself, in this way, thou art sure to gratify the chief of the celestials himself. That would constitute thy third sacrifice, O Yudhishthira, in which offerings are made unto the deities, the Pitris, and the Brahmanas. By such sacrifice thou art sure to gratify the Viswedevas. Let compassion unto all creatures, giving unto all creatures what is due unto them, restraining the senses, renunciation, steadiness, and truth, constitute the final bath of that sacrifice which is constituted by gift. Even this is the sacrifice that is spread out for thee,--a sacrifice that is sanctified by devotion and faith, and that has a large Dakshina attached to it. This sacrifice which is constituted by gift is distinguished above all other sacrifices. O son, let this sacrifice be always performed by thee."'" SECTION LXI "'Yudhishthira said, "I wish to know in detail, O Bharata, where one meets with the high rewards of gifts and sacrifices. Are those rewards earned here or are they to come hereafter? Which amongst these two (viz., Gift and Sacrifice) is said to be productive of superior merit? Unto whom should gifts be made? In what manner are gifts and sacrifices to be made? When also are they to be made? I ask thee all these, O learned sire! Do thou discourse to me on the duty of gifts! Do tell me, O grandsire, what leads to the highest reward, viz., gifts made from the sacrificial platform or those made out of that place?"[324] "'Bhishma said, "O son, a Kshatriya is generally employed in deeds of fierceness. In his case, sacrifices and gifts are regarded as cleansing or sanctifying him. They, that are good and righteous, do not accept the gifts of persons of the royal order, who are given to sinful acts. For this reason, the king should perform sacrifices with abundant gifts in the form of Dakshina.[325] If the good and righteous would accept the gifts made unto them, the Kshatriya, O monarch, should incessantly make gifts with devotion and faith unto them. Gifts are productive of great merit, and are highly cleansing. Observant of vows, one should perform sacrifices and gratify with wealth such Brahmanas as are friends of all creatures, possessed of righteousness, conversant with the Vedas, and preeminent for acts, conduct, and penances. If such Brahmanas do not accept thy gifts, no merit becomes thine. Do thou perform sacrifices with copious Dakshina, and make gifts of good and agreeable food unto those that are righteous. By making an act of gift thou shouldst regard thyself as performing a sacrifice. Thou shouldst with gifts adore those Brahmanas who perform sacrifices. By doing this thou will acquire a share in the merits of those sacrifices of theirs. Thou shouldst support such Brahmanas as are possessed of children and as are capable of sending people to Heaven. By conducting thyself in this way thou art sure to get a large progeny--in fact as large a progeny as the Prajapati himself. They that are righteous support and advance the cause of all righteous acts. One should, by giving up one's all, support such men, as also those that do good unto all creatures. Thyself being in the enjoyment of affluence, do thou, O Yudhishthira, make unto Brahmanas gifts of kine and bullocks and food and umbrellas, and robes and sandals or shoes. Do thou give unto sacrificing Brahmanas clarified butter, as also food and cars and vehicles with horses harnessed thereto, and dwelling houses and mansions and beds. Such gifts are fraught with prosperity and affluence to the giver, and are regarded as pure, O Bharata. Those Brahmanas that are not censurable for anything they do, and that have no means of support assigned to them, should be searched out. Covertly or publicly do thou cherish such Brahmanas by assigning them the means of support. Such conduct always confers higher benefit upon Kshatriyas than the Rajasuya and the Horse-sacrifices. Cleansing thyself of sin, thou art sure of attaining to Heaven. Filling thy treasury thou shouldst do good to thy kingdom. By such conduct thou art sure to win much wealth and become a Brahmana (in thy next life). Do thou, O Bharata, protect thy own means (of support and of doing acts of righteousness), as also the means of other people's subsistence. Do thou support thy servants as thy own children. Do thou, O Bharata, protect the Brahmanas in the enjoyment of what they have and make gifts unto them of such articles as they have not. Let thy life be devoted to the purpose of the Brahmanas. Let it never be said that thou dost not grant protection to the Brahmanas. Much wealth or affluence, when possessed by a Brahmana, becomes a source of evil to him. Constant association with affluence and prosperity is certain to fill him with pride and cause him to be stupefied (in respect of his true duties). If the Brahmanas become stupefied and steeped in folly, righteousness and duties are sure to suffer destruction. Without doubt, if righteousness and duty come to an end, it will lead to the destruction of all creatures. That king who having amassed wealth makes it over (for safe keep) to his treasury officers and guards, and then commences again to plunder his kingdom, saying unto his officers, 'Do ye bring me as much wealth as you can extort from the kingdom,' and who spends the wealth that is thus collected at his command under circumstances of fear and cruelty, in the performance of sacrifices, should know that those sacrifices of his are never applauded by the righteous. The king should perform sacrifices with such wealth as is willingly paid into his treasury by prosperous and unpersecuted subjects. Sacrifices should never be performed with wealth acquired by severity and extortion. The king should then perform great sacrifices with large presents in the shape of Dakshina, when in consequence of his being devoted to the good of his subjects, the latter bathe him with copious showers of wealth brought willingly by them for the purpose. The king should protect the wealth of those that are old, of those that are minors, of those that are blind, and of those that are otherwise disqualified. The king should never take any wealth from his people, if they, in a season of drought, succeed in growing any corn with the aid of water obtained from wells. Nor should he take any wealth from weeping women.[326] The wealth taken from the poor and the helpless is sure to destroy the kingdom and the prosperity of the king. The king should always make unto the righteous gifts of all enjoyable articles in abundance. He should certainly dispel the fear of famishing which those men may have.[327] There are no men more sinful than those upon whose food children look with wistfulness without being able to eat them duly. If within thy kingdom any learned Brahmana languishes with hunger like any of those children, thou shalt then incur the sin of foeticide for having allowed such an act. King Sivi himself had said this, viz., 'Fie on that king in whose kingdom a Brahmana or even any other man languishes from hunger.' That kingdom in which a Brahmana of the Snataka class languishes with hunger becomes overwhelmed with adversity. Such a kingdom with its king also incurs reproach. That king is more dead than alive in whose kingdom women are easily abducted from the midst of husbands and sons, uttering cries and groans of indignation and grief The subjects should arm themselves to slay that King who does not protect them, who simply plunders their wealth, who confounds all distinctions, who is ever incapable of taking their lead, who is without compassion, and who is regarded as the most sinful of kings. That king who tells his people that he is their protector but who does not or is unable to protect them, should be slain by his combined subjects, like a dog that is affected with the rabies and has become mad. A fourth part of whatever sins are committed by the subjects clings to that king who does not protect, O Bharata. Some authorities say that the whole of those sins is taken by such a king. Others are of opinion that a half thereof becomes his. Bearing in mind, however, the declaration of Manu, it is our opinion that a fourth part of such sins becomes the unprotecting king's. That king, O Bharata, who grants protection to his subjects obtains a fourth part of whatever merits his subjects acquire living under his protection. Do thou, O Yudhishthira, act in such a way that all thy subjects may seek thee as their refuge as long as thou art alive, even as all creatures seek the refuge of the deity of rain or even as the winged denizens of the air seek the refuge of a large tree. Let all thy kinsmen and all thy friends and well-wishers, O scorcher of foes, seek thee as their refuge even as the Rakshasas seek Kuvera or the deities seek Indra as theirs."'" SECTION LXII "'Yudhishthira said, "People accept with affection the declarations of the Srutis which say, 'This is to be given.' 'This other thing is to be given!' As regards kings, again, they make gifts of various things unto various men. What, however, O grandsire, is the best or foremost of all gifts." "'Bhishma said, "Of all kinds of gifts, the gift of earth has been said to be the first (in point of merit). Earth is immovable and indestructible. It is capable of yielding unto him who owns it all the best things upon which his heart may be set. It yields robes and vestments, jewels and gems, animals, paddy and barley. Amongst all creatures, the giver of earth grows in prosperity for ever and ever. As long as the earth lasts, so long does the giver thereof grow in prosperity. There is no gift that is higher, O Yudhishthira, than the gift of earth. It hath been heard by us that all men have given a little quantity of earth. All men have made gifts of earth, hence all men enjoy a little of earth. Whether in this or in the next world all creatures live under conditions dependent upon their own acts. Earth is Prosperity's self. She is a mighty goddess. She makes him her lord (in next life) who makes gifts of her in this life to other people. That person, O best of kings, who gives away earth, which is indestructible, as Dakshina, becomes born in next life as a man and becomes also a lord of earth. The measure of one's enjoyment in this life is commensurate with the measure of one's gifts in a previous life. Even this is the conclusion to which the scriptures point. For a Kshatriya should either give away the earth in gift or cast off his life in battle. Even this constitutes the highest source of prosperity with regard to Kshatriyas. It has been heard by us that earth, when given away, cleanses and sanctifies the giver. The man that is of sinful behaviour, that is guilty of even the slaughter of a Brahmana and of falsehood, is cleansed by a gift of earth. Indeed, such a gift rescues even such a sinner from all his sins. The righteous accept gifts of earth only and no other thing from kings that are sinful. Like one's mother, earth, when given away, cleanses the giver and the taker. This is an eternal and secret name of earth, viz., Priyadatta.[328] Given away or accepted in gift, the name that is dear to her is Priyadatta. The gift of earth is desirable. That king who makes a gift of earth unto a learned Brahmana, obtains from that gift a kingdom. Upon re-birth in this world, such a man without doubt attains to a position that is equal to that of a king. Hence a king as soon as he gets earth, should make gifts of earth unto the Brahmanas. None but a lord of earth is competent to make gifts of earth. Nor should one that is not a deserving person accept a gift of earth. They who desire earth should, without doubt, conduct themselves in this way (i.e., make gifts of earth). That person who takes away earth belonging to a righteous person never gets any earth. By making gifts of earth unto the righteous, one gets good earth. Of virtuous soul, such a giver acquires great fame both here and hereafter. That righteous king respecting whom the Brahmanas say, 'We live on earth given to us by him,' is such that his very enemies cannot utter the least reproach respecting his kingdom.[329] Whatever sins a man commits from want of the means of support, are all washed off by gift of only so much earth as is covered by a cow-hide. Those kings that are mean in their acts or are of fierce deeds, should be taught that gift of earth is exceedingly cleansing and is at the same time the highest gift (in respect of merit). The ancients thought that there was always very little difference between the man who performs a Horse-sacrifice and him that makes a gift of earth unto one that is righteous. The learned doubt the acquisition of merit by doing all other acts of righteousness. The only act with respect to which they do not entertain doubt is the gift of earth which, indeed, is the foremost of all gifts. The man of wisdom who makes gifts of earth, gives away all these, viz., gold, silver, cloth, gems and pearls and precious stones. Penances, sacrifice, Vedic lore, good behaviour, absence of cupidity, firmness in truth, worship of seniors, preceptors, and the deities--all these dwell in him who makes a gift of earth. They who ascend to the region of Brahman by leaving off their lives in battle, after having fought without any regard for themselves to secure the benefit to their masters--even they are unable to transcend the merit of those that make gifts of earth. As the mother always nourishes her own child with milk from her breast, even so doth the earth gratify with all the tastes the person that makes a gift of earth. Mrityu, Vaikinkara, Danda, Yama, Fire who is possessed of great fierceness, and all heinous and terrible sins are incapable of touching the person that makes a gift of earth. That man of tranquil soul who makes a gift of earth gratifies (by that act) the Pitris dwelling in their own region and the deities also hailing from the region that is theirs. The man who makes a gift of earth unto one that is emaciated and cheerless and destitute of the means of life and languishing with weakness, and who thereby supplies one with the means of subsistence, becomes entitled to the honour and merit of performing a sacrifice. Even as an affectionate cow runs towards her calf, with full udders dropping milk, the highly-blessed earth after the same manner, runs towards the person who makes a gift of earth. That man who makes unto a Brahmana a gift of earth which has been tilled, or sown with seeds or which contains standing crops, or a mansion well-equipped with every necessary, succeeds in becoming (in next life) the accomplisher of the wishes of everybody. The man who causes a Brahmana possessed of the means of life, owning a domestic fire and of pure vows and practices, to accept a gift of earth, never falls into any danger or distress. As the moon waxes day by day, even so the merit of a gift of earth becomes enhanced every time such earth produces crops. Those conversant with ancient history sing this verse in connection with the gift of earth. Hearing that verse Jamadagni's son (Rama) gave away the whole earth unto Kasyapa. The verse to which I refer is this, 'Receive me in gift. Give me away. By giving me away, thou (O giver) shall obtain me again!' That which is given away in this life is re-acquired in the next.[330] That Brahmana who recites this high declaration of the Vedas at the time of a Sraddha attains to the highest reward. A gift of earth is a high expiation for the sin of those puissant men who betake themselves to Atharvan rites for doing injuries to others. Indeed, by making a gift of earth one rescues ten generations of one's paternal and maternal race. That person who is even conversant with this Vedic declaration respecting the merits of a gift of earth, succeeds in rescuing ten generations of both his paternal and maternal families. The earth is the original source of all creatures (for it is from earth that all creatures derive their sustenance). It has been said that the deity of fire is the presiding genius of the earth. After the coronation ceremony has been performed of a king, this Vedic declaration should be re-cited to him, so that he may make gifts of earth and may never take away earth from a righteous person. Without doubt, the entire wealth owned by the king belongs to the Brahmanas. A king well-conversant with the science of duty and morality is the first requisite of the kingdom's prosperity. Those people whose king is unrighteous and atheistic in conduct and belief can never be happy. Such people can never sleep or wake in peace. In consequence of his acts of wickedness his subjects become always filled with anxiety. Protection of what the subjects already have and new acquisitions according to lawful means are incidents that are not noticeable in the kingdom of such a ruler. Those people, again, who have a wise and righteous king, sleep happily and wake up in happiness. Through the blessed and righteous acts of such a king, his subjects become freed from anxiety. The subjects, restrained from wicked acts, grow in prosperity through their own conduct. Capable of retaining what they have, they go on making new acquisitions. That king who makes gifts of earth is regarded as well-born. He is regarded as a man. He is a friend. He is righteous in his acts. He is a giver. He is regarded as possessing prowess. Those men who make gifts of ample and fertile earth unto Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas, always shine in the world, in consequence of their energy, like so many suns. As seeds scattered on the soil grow and return a goodly crop, even so all one's wishes become crowned with fruition in consequence of one's making gifts of earth. Aditya and Varuna and Vishnu and Brahman and Soma and Hutasana, and the illustrious and trident-bearing Mahadeva, all applaud the man that makes a gift of earth. Living creatures spring into life from the earth and it is into the earth that they become merged when they disappear. Living creatures which are distributed into four classes (i.e., viviparous, oviparous, filthborn, and vegetables) have earth for their constituent essence. The earth is both the mother and father of the universe of creatures, O monarch. There is no element, O ruler of men, that can compare with earth. In this connection is cited the old narrative of a discourse between the celestial preceptor Vrihaspati and Indra the ruler of Heaven, O Yudhishthira. Having adored Vishnu in a hundred sacrifices each of which was distinguished by plentiful gifts as Dakshina, Maghavat put this question to Vrihaspati, that foremost of all eloquent persons. "'"Maghavat said, 'O illustrious one, by what gift does one succeed in coming to Heaven and attaining to beatitude? O foremost of speakers, do thou tell me of that gift which is productive of high and inexhaustible merit.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the chief of the celestials the preceptor of the deities, viz., Vrihaspati of great energy, said these words in reply unto him of a hundred sacrifices. 'Endued as he is with the merits that attach to the gift of earth, the region of felicity reserved for the person who makes gift of such earth as is auspicious and rich with every taste, never become exhausted.[331] That king, O Sakra, who desires to have prosperity and who wishes to win happiness for himself, should always make gifts of earth, with due rites, unto deserving persons. If after committing numerous sins a person makes gifts of earth unto members of the regenerate class, he casts off all those sins like a snake casting off its slough. The person that makes a gift of earth is said to make gifts of everything, that is, of seas and rivers and mountains and forests. By making a gift of earth, the person is said to give away lakes and tanks and wells and streams. In consequence of the moisture of earth, one is said to give away articles of diverse tastes by making a gift of earth. The man who makes a gift of earth is regarded as giving away herbs and plants possessed of high and efficacious virtues, trees adorned with flowers and fruit, delightful woods, and hillocks. The merit that a person acquires by making a gift of earth is incapable of being acquired by the performance of even such great sacrifices as the Agnishtoma and others with plentiful gifts in the shape of Dakshina. The giver of earth, it has been already said, rescues ten generations of both his paternal and maternal races. Similarly, by taking away earth that was given away, one hurls oneself into hell and casts ten generations of both one's paternal and maternal lines into the same place of misery. That man who having promised to make a gift of earth does not actually make it, or who having made a gift takes it back, has to pass a long time, in great misery in consequence of being tied with the noose of Varuna at the command of Death. Those men have never to go to Yama who honour and worship those foremost of Brahmanas that pour libations every day on their domestic fire, that are always engaged in the performance of sacrifices, that have scanty means of livelihood, and that receive with hospitality every guest seeking shelter in their abodes. The king, O Purandara, should free himself from the debt he owes to the Brahmanas and protect the helpless and the weak belonging to the other orders. The king should never resume, O chief of the deities, earth that has been given away by another unto a Brahmana, O ruler of the celestials, that is destitute of the means of life.[332] The tears that would fall from the eyes of such cheerless and destitute Brahmanas in consequence of their lands being taken back are capable of destroying the ancestors and descendants to the third generation of the resumer. That man who succeeds by his endeavours in re-establishing a king driven away from his kingdom, obtains residence in heaven and is much honoured by the denizens thereof. That king who succeeds in making gifts of earth with such crops standing thereon as sugar-cane or barley or wheat, or with kine and horses and other draft cattle,--earth that has been won with the might of the giver's arms,--that has mineral wealth in its bowels and that is covered with every kind of wealth of the surface, wins inexhaustible regions of felicity in the next world, and such a king it is that is said to perform the earth-sacrifice. That king who makes a gift of earth becomes washed of every sin and is, therefore, pure and approved of the righteous. In this world he is highly honoured and applauded by all righteous men. The merit that attaches to a gift of earth increases every time the earth given away bears crops for the benefit of the owner, even as a drop of oil, falling upon water, is seen to extend on every side, and cover the watery surface. Those heroic kings and ornaments of assemblies who cast off their lives in battle with faces towards the foe, attain, O Sakra, to the region of Brahman. Beautiful damsels skilled in music and dancing and adorned with garlands of celestial flowers, approach, O chief of the deities, the giver of earth as he comes to heaven departing from the earth. That king who makes gifts of earth with due rites unto persons of the regenerate order, sports in bliss in the celestial regions, adorned all the while by the deities and Gandharvas. A century of Apsaras, adorned with celestial garlands, approach, O chief of the deities, the giver of earth as he ascends to the region of Brahman. Flowers of excellent perfumes, an excellent conch and excellent seat, an umbrella and excellent steeds with excellent vehicles, are always ready for the person how makes gifts of earth. By making gifts of earth a king can always command flowers of excellent perfumes and heaps of gold. Possessed of all kinds of wealth the commands of such a king can never be disobeyed anywhere, and cries of victory hail him wheresoever he may approach. The rewards that attach to gifts of earth consist of residence in heaven, O Purandara, and gold, and flowers, and plants and herbs of medicinal virtue, and Kusa and mineral wealth and verdant grass. A person by making a gift of earth acquires in his next life nectar yielding earth. There is no gift that is equal to a gift of earth. There is no senior worthy of greater respect than the mother. There is no duty higher than truth. There is no wealth more precious than that which is given away.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words from the son of Angiras, Vasava made a gift unto him of the whole earth with all her jewels and gems and all her wealth of diverse kinds. If these verses declaring the merit attaching to gifts of earth be recited on the occasion of a Sraddha, neither Rakshasas nor Asuras can succeed in appropriating any share of the offerings made in it. Without doubt, the offerings one makes unto the Pitris at such a Sraddha become inexhaustible. Hence, on occasions of Sraddhas, the man of learning should recite these verses on the subject of the merits that attach to gifts of earth, in the presence and hearing of the invited Brahmanas when engaged in eating. I have thus, O chief of the Bharatas, discoursed unto thee of that gift which is the foremost of all gifts. What else dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION LXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "When a king becomes desirous of making gifts in this world, what, indeed, are those gifts which he should make, O best of the Bharatas, unto such Brahmanas as are possessed of superior accomplishments? What gift is that by which the Brahmanas become immediately gratified? What fruits do they bestow in return? O thou of mighty arms, tell me what is the high reward attainable through the merit arising from gifts. What gifts, O king, are productive of rewards both here and hereafter? I desire to hear all this from thee. Do thou discourse to me on all this in detail." "'Bhishma said, "These very questions were on a former occasion put by me to Narada of celestial appearance. Hear me as I recite to thee what that celestial sage told me in reply. "'"Narada said, 'The deities and all the Rishis applaud food. The course of the world and the intellectual faculties have all been established on food. There has never been, nor will be any gift that is equal to the gifts of food. Hence, men always desire particularly to make gifts of food. In this world, food is the cause of energy and strength. The life-breaths are established on food. It is food that upholds the wide universe, O puissant one. All classes of men, householders and mendicants and ascetics, exist, depending upon food. The life-breaths depend upon food. There is no doubt in this. Afflicting (if need be) one's relatives, one that is desirous of one's own prosperity, should make gifts of food unto a high-souled Brahmana or a person of the mendicant order. That man who makes a gift of food unto an accomplished Brahmana who solicits the same, secures for himself in the world to come wealth of great value. The householder who is desirous of his own prosperity should receive with reverence a deserving old man that is spent with toil while proceeding on his way far from home, when such a man honours the householder's abode with his presence. That man who, casting off wrath that overleaps every bound and becoming righteous in disposition and freed from malice, makes gifts of food, is sure to attain to happiness, O king, both here and hereafter. The householder should never disregard the man that comes to his abode, nor should he insult him by sending him away. A gift of food made unto even a Chandala or a dog is never lost. That man who makes a gift of clean food unto a person on the way who is toil-worn and unknown to the giver, is sure to acquire great merit. The man who gratifies with gifts of food the Pitris, the deities, the Rishis, the Brahmanas, and guests arrived at his abode, acquires merit whose measure is very large. That person who having committed even a heinous sin makes a gift of food unto one that solicits, or unto a Brahmana, is never stupefied by that heinous sin. A gift of food made unto a Brahmana becomes inexhaustible. One made to a Sudra becomes productive of great merit. Even this is the difference between the merits that attach to gifts of food made unto Brahmanas and Sudras. Solicited by a Brahmana, one should not enquire about his race or conduct or Vedic lore. Asked for food, one should give food to him that asks. There is no doubt in this, O king, that he who makes gifts of food obtains both here and hereafter many trees yielding food and every other object of desire. Like tillers expecting auspicious showers of rain, the Pitris always expect that their sons and grandsons would make offerings unto them of food (in Sraddhas). The Brahmana is a great being. When he comes into one's abode and solicits, saying, "Give me," the owner of the abode, whether influenced or not by the desire of acquiring merit, is sure to win great merit by listening to that solicitation. The Brahmana is the guest of all creatures in the universe. He is entitled to the first portion of every food. That house increases in prosperity to which the Brahmanas repair from desire of soliciting alms and from which they return honoured in consequence of their desires being fulfilled. The owner of such a house takes birth in his next life in a family, O Bharata, that can command all the comforts and luxuries of life. A man, by making gifts of food in this world, is sure to attain to an excellent place hereafter. He who makes gifts of sweetmeat and all food that is sweet, attains to a residence in heaven where he is honoured by all the deities and other denizens. Food constitutes the life-breath of men. Everything is established upon food. He who makes gifts of food obtains many animals (as his wealth), many children, considerable wealth (in other shape), and a command in abundance of all articles of comfort and luxurious enjoyment. The giver of food is said to be the giver of life. Indeed, he is said to be the giver of everything. Hence, O king, such a man acquires both strength and beauty of form in this world. If food be given duly unto a Brahmana arrived at the giver's house as a guest, the giver attains to great happiness, and is adored by the very deities. The Brahmana, O Yudhishthira, is a great being. He is also a fertile field. Whatever seed is sown on that field produces an abundant crop of merit. A gift of food is visibly and immediately productive of the happiness of both the giver and the receiver. All other gifts produce fruits that are unseen. Food is the origin of all creatures. From food, comes happiness and delight. O Bharata, know that religion and wealth both flow from food. The cure of disease or health also flows from food. In a former Kalpa, the Lord of all creatures said that food is Amrita or the source of immortality. Food is Earth, food is Heaven, food is the Firmament. Everything is established on food. In the absence of food, the five elements that constitute the physical organism cease to exist in a state of union. From absence of food the strength of even the strongest man is seen to fail. Invitations and marriages and sacrifices all cease in the absence of food. The very Vedas disappear when food there is none. Whatever mobile and immobile creatures exist in the universe are dependent on food. Religion and wealth, in the three worlds, are all dependent on food. Hence the wise should make gifts of food. The strength, energy, fame and achievements of the man who makes gifts of food, constantly increase in the three worlds, O king. The lord of the life-breaths, viz., the deity of wind, places above the clouds (the water sucked up by the Sun). The water thus borne to the clouds is caused by Sakra to be poured upon the earth, O Bharata. The Sun, by means of his rays, sucks up the moisture of the earth. The deity of wind causes the moisture to fall down from the Sun.[333] When the water falls down from the clouds upon the Earth, the goddess Earth becomes moist, O Bharata. Then do people sow diverse kinds of crops upon whose outturn the universe of creatures depends. It is in the food thus produced that the flesh, fat, bones and vital seed of all beings have their origin. From the vital seed thus originated, O king, spring diverse kinds of living creatures. Agni and Soma, the two agents living within the body, create and maintain the vital seed. Thus from food, the Sun and the deity of wind and the vital seed spring and act. All these are said to constitute one element or quantity, and it is from these that all creatures spring. That man who gives food unto one who comes into his house and solicits it, is said, O chief of the Bharatas, to contribute both life and energy unto living creatures.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Narada, O king, I have always made gifts of food. Do thou also, therefore, freed from malice and with a cheerful heart, make gifts of food. By making gifts of food, O king, unto deserving Brahmanas with due rites, thou mayst be sure, O puissant one, of attaining to Heaven. Hear me, O monarch, as I tell thee what the regions are that are reserved for those that make gifts of food. The mansions of those high-souled persons shine with resplendence in the regions of Heaven. Bright as the stars in the firmament, and supported upon many columns, white as the disc of the moon, and adorned with many tinkling bells, and rosy like the newly-risen sun, those palatial abodes are either fixed or movable. Those mansions are filled with hundreds upon hundreds of things and animals that live on land and as many things and animals living in water. Some of them are endued with the effulgence of lapis lazuli and some are possessed of the resplendence of the sun. Some of them are made of silver and some of gold. Within those mansions are many trees capable of crowning with fruition every desire of the inmates. Many tanks and roads and halls and wells and lakes occur all around. Thousands of conveyances with horses and other animals harnessed thereto and with wheels whose clatter is always loud, may be seen there. Mountains of food and all enjoyable articles and heaps of cloths and ornaments are also to be seen there. Numerous rivers that run milk, and hills of rice and other edibles, may also be seen there. Indeed, many palatial residences looking like white clouds, with many beds of golden splendour, occur in those regions, All these are obtained by those men that make gifts of food in this world. Do thou, therefore, become a giver of food. Verily, these are the regions that are reserved for those high-souled and righteous persons that make gifts of food in this world. For these reasons, men should always make gifts of food in this world."'" SECTION LXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "I have heard the discourse regarding the ordinance about the gift of food. Do thou discourse to me now about the conjunction of the planets and the stars in relation to the subject of making gifts."[334] "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is recited this ancient narrative of the discourse between Devaki and Narada, that foremost of Rishis. Once on a time when Narada of godlike feature and conversant with every duty arrived at Dwaraka, Devaki asked him this question. Unto her that had asked him, the celestial Rishi Narada duly answered in the following words. Do thou hear as I recite them. "'"Narada said, 'By gratifying, O blessed lady, deserving Brahmanas with Payasa mixed with ghee, under the constellation Krittika one attains to regions of great happiness.[335] Under the constellation Rohini, one should for freeing oneself from the debt one owes to the Brahmanas make gift unto them of many handfuls of venison along with rice and ghee and milk, and other kinds of edibles and drinks. One giving away a cow with a calf under the constellation called Somadaivata (or Mrigasiras), proceeds from this region of human beings to a region in heaven of great felicity. One undergoing a fast and giving away Krisara mixed with sesame, transcends all difficulties in the next world, including those mountains with rocks sharp as razors. By making gifts, O beautiful lady, of cakes and other food under the constellation Punarvasu one becomes possessed of personal beauty and great fame and takes birth in one's next life in a family in which there is abundance of food. Making a gift of wrought or unwrought gold, under the constellation Pushya, one shines in effulgence like Soma himself in regions of surrounding gloom. He who makes a gift, under the constellation Aslesha, of silver or a bull, becomes freed from every fear and attains to great affluence and prosperity. By making a gift, under the constellation Magha, of earthen dishes filled with sesame, one becomes possessed of children and animals in this world and attains to felicity in the next.[336] For making gifts unto Brahmanas, under the constellation called Purva-Phalguni of food mixed with Phanita the giver observing a fast the while, reward is great prosperity both here and hereafter.[337] By making a gift, under the constellation called Uttara-Phalguni, of ghee and milk with rice called Shashthika, one attains to great honours in heaven. Whatever gifts are made by men under the constellation of Uttara-Phalguni produce great merit, which, again, becomes inexhaustible. This is very certain. Observing a fast the while, the person that makes, under the constellation Hasta, a gift of a car with four elephants, attains to regions of great felicity that are capable of granting the fruition of every wish. By making a gift, under the constellation Chitra, of a bull and of good perfumes, one sports in bliss in regions of Apsaras like the deities sporting in the woods of Nandana. By making gifts of wealth under the constellation Swati, one attains to such excellent regions as one desires and wins besides great fame. By making gifts, under constellation Visakha, of a bull, and a cow that yields a copious measure of milk, a cart full of paddy, with a Prasanga for covering the same, and also cloths for wear,[338] a person never meets with any calamity and certainly reaches heaven. By making gifts unto the Brahmanas of whatever articles they solicit, one attains to such means of subsistence as one desires, and becomes rescued from hell and every calamity that visits a sinner after death. This is the certain conclusion of the scriptures. By making gifts, under the constellation Anuradha of embroidered cloth and other vestments and of food, observing a fast the while, one becomes honoured in heaven for a hundred Yugas. By making a gift under the constellation Jyeshtha, of the potherb called Kalasaka with the roots, one attains to great prosperity as also to such an end as is desirable. By making unto Brahmanas a gift under the constellation Mula, of fruits and roots, with a restrained soul, one gratifies the Pitris and attains to a desirable end. By making under the constellation Purvashadha, a gift, unto a Brahmana conversant with the Vedas and of good family and conduct, of cups filled with curds, while one is in the observance of a fast, one takes birth in one's next life in a family possessed of abundant kine. One obtains the fruition of every wish, by making gifts, under the constellation Uttarashadha, of jugs full of barley-water, with ghee and inspissated juice of sugarcane in abundance. By making a gift under the conjunction called Abhijit, of milk with honey and ghee unto men of wisdom, a righteous person attains to heaven and becomes an object of attention and honour there. By making under the conjunction Sravana, a gift of blankets or other cloth of thick texture, one roves freely through every region of felicity, riding on a white car of pure resplendence. By making with a restrained soul, under the constellation Dhanishtha, a gift of a vehicle with bulls yoked thereto, or heaps of cloths and wealth, one at once attains to heaven in one's next life. By making gifts, under the constellation Satabhisha, of perfumes with Aquilaria Agallocha and sandalwood, one attains in the next world to the companionship of Apsaras as also eternal perfumes of diverse kinds. By making gifts, under the constellation Purva-Bhadrapada, or Rajamasha, one attains to great happiness in the next life and becomes possessed of an abundant stock of every kind of edibles and fruits.[339] One who makes, under the constellation Uttara, a gift of mutton, gratifies the Pitris by such an act attains to inexhaustible merit in the next world. Unto one who makes a gift, under the constellation Revati, of a cow with a vessel of white copper for milking her, the cow so given away approaches in the next world, ready to grant the fruition of every wish. By making a gift, under the constellation Aswini, of a car with steeds yoked thereto, one is born in one's next life in a family possessed of numerous elephants and steeds and cars, and becomes endued with great energy. By making, under the constellation Bharani, a gift unto the Brahmanas of kine and sesame, one acquires in one's next life great fame and an abundance of kine.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Even thus did Narada discourse unto Devaki upon the subject of what gifts should be made under what constellations. Devaki herself, having listened to this discourse, recited it in her turn unto her daughters-in-law (viz., the spouses of Krishna)."'" SECTION LXV "'Bhishma said, "The illustrious Atri, the son of the Grandsire Brahman, said, 'They who make gifts of gold are said to make gifts of everything in the world.' King Harischandra said that the gift of gold is sin-cleansing, leads to long life, and becomes productive of inexhaustible merit unto the Pitris. Manu has said that a gift of drink is the best of all gifts: therefore should a man cause wells and tanks and lakes to be excavated. A well full of water and from which diverse creatures draw water, is said to take off half the sinful acts of the person who has excavated it. The whole race of a person is rescued from hell and sin in whose well or tank or lake kine and Brahmanas and righteous people constantly quench their thirst. That man transcends every kind of calamity from whose well or tank every one draws water without restraint during the summer season. Ghee is said to gratify the illustrious Vrihaspati, Pushan, Bhaga, the twin Aswins, and the deity of fire. Ghee is possessed of high medicinal virtues. It is a high requisite for sacrifice. It is the best of all liquids. The merit a gift of ghee produces is very superior. That man who is desirous of the reward of happiness in the next world, who wishes for fame and prosperity, should with a cleansed soul and having purified himself make gifts of ghee unto the Brahmanas. Upon that man who makes gifts of ghee unto the Brahmanas in the month of Aswin, the twin Aswins, gratified, confer personal beauty. Rakshasas never invade the abode of that man who makes gifts unto the Brahmanas of Payasa mixed with ghee. That man never dies of thirst who makes gifts unto the Brahmanas of jars filled with water. Such a person obtains every necessary of life in abundance, and has never to undergo any calamity or distress. That man, who with great devotion and restrained senses makes gifts unto the foremost of Brahmanas, is said to take a sixth part of the merits won by the Brahmanas by their penances. That man who makes presents unto Brahmanas having the means of life, of firewood for purposes of cooking as also of enabling them to drive away cold, finds all his purposes and all his acts crowned with success. Such a one is seen to shine with great splendour over all his enemies. The illustrious deity of fire becomes pleased with such a man. As another reward, he never becomes divested of cattle, and he is sure to achieve victory in battles. The man who makes a gift of an umbrella obtains children and great prosperity. Such a person is never affected by any eye-disease. The merits also that spring from the performance of a sacrifice become his. That man who makes a gift of an umbrella in the season of summer or rains, has never to meet with any heart-burning on any account. Such a man quickly succeeds in freeing himself from every difficulty and impediment. The highly blessed and illustrious Rishi Sandilya has said that, of all gifts, the gift of a car, O king, is the best."'" SECTION LXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire to hear, O grandsire, what the merits are of that person who makes the gift of a pair of sandals unto a Brahmana whose feet are burning or being scorched by hot sand, while he is walking." "'Bhishma said, "The man, that gives unto the Brahmanas sandals for the protection of their feet, succeeds in crushing all thorns and gets over every kind of difficulty. Such a man, O Yudhishthira, stays over the heads of all his foes. Vehicles of pure splendour, with mules harnessed thereto, and made of gold and silver, O monarch, approach him. He who makes a gift of sandals is said to earn the merit of making the gift of a vehicle with well-broken steeds yoked thereto." "'Yudhishthira said, "Do thou tell me in detail once more, O grandsire, of the merits that attach to gifts of sesame and land and kine and food." "'Bhishma said, "Do thou hear, O son of Kunti, what the merits are that attach to the gift of sesame. Hearing me, do thou, then, O best of the Kurus, make gifts of sesame according to the ordinance. Sesame seeds were created by the Self-born Brahman as the best food for the Pitris. Hence, gifts of sesame seeds always gladden the Pitris greatly. The man who makes gifts of sesame seeds, in the month of Magha, unto the Brahmanas, has never to visit hell which abounds with all frightful creatures. He who adores the Pitris with offerings of sesame seeds is regarded as worshipping the deities at all the sacrifices. One should never perform a Sraddha with offerings of sesame seeds without cherishing some purpose.[340] Sesame seeds sprang from the limbs of the great Rishi Kasyapa. Hence, in the matter of gifts, they have come to be regarded as possessed of high efficacy. Sesame seeds bestow both prosperity and personal beauty and cleans the giver of all his sins. It is for this reason that the gift of sesame seeds is distinguished above the gift of every other article. Apastamva of great intelligence, and Kankha and Likhita, and the great Rishi Gautama have all ascended to heaven by having made gifts of sesame seeds. Those Brahmanas that make Homa with offerings of sesame, abstain from sexual intercourse, and are observant of the religion of Pravritti or acts, are regarded as equal (in purity and efficacy) to bovine Havi. The gift of sesame seeds is distinguished above all gifts. Amongst all gifts, the gifts of sesame is regarded as productive of inexhaustible merit. In ancient times when Havi (clarified butter) on one occasion had become unobtainable the Rishi Kusika, O scorcher of foes, made offerings of sesame seeds to his three sacrificial fires and succeeded in attaining to an excellent end. I have thus said unto thee, O chief of the Kurus, what the regulations are respecting the excellent gift of sesame seeds. It is in consequence of these regulations that the gift of sesame seeds has come to be regarded as endued with very superior merit. After this, listen to what I would say. Once on a time the deities, desirous of making a sacrifice, repaired, O monarch, to the presence of the Self-born Brahman. Having met Brahman, being desirous of performing a sacrifice on earth, they begged him for a piece of auspicious earth, saying, 'We want it for our sacrifice.' "'"The deities said, 'O illustrious one, thou art the lord of all the earth as also of all the deities. With thy permission, O highly blessed one, we desire to perform a sacrifice. The person who has not obtained by lawful means the earth whereon to make the sacrificial altar, earns not the merit of the sacrifice he performs. Thou art the Lord of all the universe consisting of its mobile and immobile objects. Hence, it behoveth thee to grant us a piece of earth for the sacrifice we wish to make.' "'"Brahman said, 'Ye foremost of deities, I shall give you a piece of earth whereon, ye sons of Kasyapa, you shall perform your intended sacrifice.' "'"The deities said, 'Our wishes, O holy one, have been crowned with fruition. We shall perform our sacrifice even here with large Dakshina. Let, however, the Munis always adore the piece of earth.' Then there came to that place Agastya and Kanwa and Bhrigu and Atri and Vrishakapi, and Asita and Devala. The high-souled deities then, O thou of unfading glory, performed their sacrifice. Those foremost of gods concluded it in due time. Having completed that sacrifice of theirs on the breast of that foremost of mountains, Himavat, the deities attached to the gift of earth a sixth part of the merit arising from their sacrifice. The man who makes a gift of even a span of earth (unto a Brahmana) with reverence and faith, has never to languish under any difficulty and has never to meet with any calamity. By making a gift of a house that keeps out cold, wind, and sun, and that stand upon a piece of clean land, the giver attains to the region of the deities and does not fall down even when his merit becomes exhausted. By making a gift of a residential house, the giver, possessed of wisdom, lives, O king, in happiness in the company of Sakra. Such a person receives great honours in heaven. That person in whose house a Brahmana of restrained sense, well-versed in the Vedas, and belonging by birth to a family of preceptors, resides in contentment, succeeds in attaining to and enjoying a region of high felicity.[341] After the same manner, O best of the Bharatas, by giving away a shed for the shelter of kine that can keep out cold and rain and that is substantial in structure, the giver rescues seven generations of his race (from hell). By giving away a piece of arable earth the giver attains to excellent prosperity. By giving a piece of earth containing mineral wealth, the giver aggrandises his family and race. One should never give away any earth that is barren or that is burnt (arid); nor should one give away any earth that is in close vicinity to a crematorium, or that has been owned and enjoyed by a sinful person before such gift. When a man performs a Sraddha in honour of the Pitris on earth belonging to another person, the Pitris render both the gift of that earth and the Sraddha itself futile.[342] Hence, one possessed of wisdom should buy even a small piece of earth and make a gift of it. The Pinda that is offered to one's ancestors on earth that has been duly purchased becomes inexhaustible.[343] Forests, and mountains, and rivers, and Tirthas are regarded as having no owners. No earth need be purchased here for performing Sraddhas. Even this has been said, O king, on the subject of the merits of making gifts of earth. After this, O sinless one, I shall discourse to thee on the subject of the gift of kine. Kine are regarded as superior to all the ascetics. And since it is so, the divine Mahadeva for that reason performed penance in their company. Kine, O Bharata, dwell in the region of Brahman, in the company of Soma. Constituting as it does the highest end, regenerate Rishis crowned with success strive to attain to that very region. Kine benefit human beings with milk, ghee, curds, dung, skin, bones, horns, and hair, O Bharata. Kine do not feel cold or heat. They always work. The season of rains also cannot afflict them at all. And since kine attain to the highest end (viz., residence in the region of Brahman), in the company of Brahmanas, therefore do the wise say that king and Brahmanas are equal. In days of yore, king Rantideva performed a grand sacrifice in which an immense number of kine were offered up and slaughtered. From the juice that was secreted by the skins of the slaughtered animals, a river was formed that came to be called by the name of Charmanwati. Kine no longer form animals fit for sacrifice. They now constitute animals that are fit for gift. That king who makes gifts of kine unto the foremost of Brahmanas, O monarch, is sure to get over every calamity even if he falls into it. The man who makes a gift of a thousand kine has not to go to hell. Such a person, O ruler of men, obtains victory everywhere. The very chief of the deities had said that the milk of kine is nectar. For this reason, one who makes a gift of a cow is regarded as making a gift of nectar. Persons conversant with the Vedas have declared that the Ghee manufactured from cows' milk is the very best of all libations poured into the sacrificial fire. For this reason, the man who makes a gift of a cow is regarded as making a gift of a libation for sacrifice. A bovine bull is the embodiment of heaven. He who makes the gift of a bovine bull unto an accomplished Brahmana, receives great honours in heaven. Kine, O chief of Bharata's race, are said to be the life-breath of living creatures. Hence, the man who makes the gift of a cow is said to make the gift of life-breath. Persons conversant with the Vedas have said that kine constitute the great refuge of living creatures. Hence, the man who makes the gift of a cow is regarded as making the gift of what is the high refuge for all creatures. The cow should never be given away for slaughter (i.e., unto one who will kill her); nor should the cow be given unto a tiller of the soil; nor should the cow be given unto an atheist. The cow should not also, O chief of the Bharatas, be given unto one whose occupation is the keeping of kine.[344] The wise have said that a person who gives away the cow unto any of such sinful persons has to sink into everlasting hell. One should never give unto a Brahmana a cow that is lean, or that produces calves that do not live, or that is barren, or that is diseased, or that is defective of limb, or that is worn out with toil. The man that gives away ten thousand kine attains to heaven and sports in bliss in the companionship of Indra. The man who makes gifts of kine by hundred thousand acquires many regions of inexhaustible felicity. Thus have I recited to thee the merits attaching to the gift of kine and of sesame, as also to the gift of earth. Listen now to me as I discourse to thee upon the gift of food, O Bharata. The gift of food, O son of Kunti, is regarded as a very superior gift. King Rantideva in days of yore ascended to heaven by having made gifts of food. That king, who make a gift of food unto one that is toil-worn and hungry, attains to that region of supreme felicity which is the Self-born's own. Men fail to attain by gifts of gold and robes and of other thing, to that felicity to which givers of food succeed in attaining, O thou of great puissance! Food is, indeed, the first article. Food is regarded as the highest prosperity. It is from food that life springs, as also energy and prowess and strength. He who always makes gifts of food, with attention, unto the righteous, never falls into any distress. Even this has been said by Parasara. Having worshipped the deities duly, food should be first dedicated to them. It has been said, O king, that the kind of food that is taken by particular men is taken also by the deities those men worship.[345] That man who makes a gift of food in the bright fortnight of the month of Kartika, succeeds in crossing every difficulty here and attains to inexhaustible felicity hereafter. That man who makes a gift of food unto a hungry guest arrived at his abode, attains to all those regions, O chief of Bharata's race, that are reserved for persons acquainted with Brahma. The man who makes gifts of food is sure to cross every difficulty and distress. Such a person comes over every sin and cleanses himself of every evil act. I have thus discoursed to thee upon the merits of making gifts of food, of sesame, of earth, and of kine."'" SECTION LXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "I have heard, O sire, of the merits of the different kinds of gift upon which thou hast discoursed to me. I understand, O Bharata, that the gift of food is especially laudable and superior. What however, are the great merits of making gifts of drink. I desire to hear of this in detail, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "I shall, O chief of Bharata's race, discourse to thee upon this subject. Listen to me, O thou of unbaffled prowess, as I speak to thee. I shall, O sinless one, discourse unto thee of gifts beginning with that of drink. The merit that a man acquires by making gifts of food and drink is such that the like of it, I think, is incapable of being acquired through any other gift. There is no gift, therefore, that is superior to that of either food or drink. It is by food that all living creatures are able to exist. For this reason, food is regarded as a very superior object in all the worlds. From food the strength and energy of living creatures constantly increases. Hence, the lord of all creatures has himself said that the gift of food is a very superior gift. Thou hast heard, O son of Kunti, what the auspicious words are of Savitri herself (on the subject of the gift of food). Thou knowest for what reason those words were said, what those words were, and how they were said in course of the sacred Mantras, O thou of great intelligence. A man, by making a gift of food, really makes a gift of life itself. There is no gift in this world that is superior to the gift of life. Thou art not unacquainted with this saying of Lomasa, O thou of mighty arms! The end that was attained in former days by king Sivi in consequence of his having granted life to the pigeon is acquired by him, O monarch, who makes a gift of food unto a Brahmana. Hence, it has been heard by us that they that give life attain to very superior regions of felicity in after life. Food, O best of the Kurus, may or may not be superior to drink. Nothing can exist without the aid of what springs from water. The very lord of all the planets, viz., the illustrious Soma, has sprung from water. Amrita and Sudha and Swadha and milk as also every kind of food, the deciduous herbs, O monarch, and creepers (medicinal and of other virtues), spring from water. From these, O king, the life-breath of all living creatures flows. The deities have nectar for their food. The Nagas have Sudha. The Pitris have Swadha for theirs. The animals have herbs and plants for their food. The wise have said that rice, etc., constitute the food of human beings. All these, O chief of men, spring from water. Hence, there is nothing superior to the gift of water or drink. If a person wishes to secure prosperity for himself, he should always make gifts of drink. The gift of water is regarded as very praiseworthy. It leads to great fame and bestows long life on the giver. The giver of water, O son of Kunti, always stays over the heads of his enemies. Such a person obtains the fruition of all his wishes and earns everlasting fame. The giver, O chief of men, becomes cleansed of every sin and obtains unending felicity hereafter as he proceeds to heaven, O thou of great splendour. Manu himself has said that such a person earns regions of inexhaustible bliss in the other world."'" SECTION LXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Do thou discourse to me once again, O grandsire, upon the merits attaching to gifts of sesame and of lamps for lighting darkness, as also of food and robes." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O Yudhishthira, is recited the narrative of the discourse that took place in ancient times between a Brahmana and Yama. In the country lying between the rivers Ganga and Yamuna, at the foot of the hills called Yamuna, there was a large town inhabited by Brahmanas. The town was celebrated under the name of Parnasala and was very delightful in appearance, O king. A large number of learned Brahmanas lived in it. One day, Yama, the ruler of the dead, commanded a messenger of his, who was clad in black, endued with blood-red eyes and hair standing erect, and possessed of feet, eyes, and nose all of which resembled those of a crow, saying, 'Go thou to the town inhabited by Brahmanas and bring hither the person known by the name of Sarmin and belonging by birth to the race of Agastya. He is intent on mental tranquillity and possessed of learning. He is a preceptor engaged in teaching the Vedas and his practices are well-known. Do not bring me another person belonging to the same race and living in the same neighbourhood. This other man is equal unto him I want, in virtues, study, and birth. With respect to children and conduct, this other resembles the intelligent Sarmin. Do thou bring the individual I have in view. He should be worshipped with respect (instead of being dragged hither with irreverence).' The messenger having come to the place, did the very reverse of what he had been bidden to do. Attacking that person, he brought him who had been forbidden by Yama to be brought. Possessed of great energy, Yama rose up at the sight of the Brahmana and worshipped him duly. The king of the dead then commanded his messenger, saying, 'Let this one be taken back, and let the other one be brought to me.' When the great judge of the dead said these words, that Brahmana addressed him and said, 'I have completed my study of the Vedas and am no longer attached to the world. Whatever period may yet remain of my mortal existence, I wish to pass, dwelling even here, O thou of unfading glory!'[346] "'"Yama said, 'I cannot ascertain the exact period, ordained by Time, of one's life, and hence, unurged by Time, I cannot allow one to take up one's residence here. I take note of the acts of righteousness (or otherwise) that one does in the world. Do thou, O learned Brahmana of great splendour return immediately to thy abode. Tell me what also is in thy mind and what I can do for thee, O thou of unfading glory!' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Do thou tell me what those acts are by accomplishing which one may earn great merit. O best of all beings, thou art the foremost of authorities (on the subject) even in the three worlds.' "'"Yama said, 'Do thou hear, O regenerate Rishi, the excellent ordinances regarding gifts. The gift of sesame seeds is a very superior one. It produces everlasting merit. O foremost of regenerate ones, one should make gifts of as much sesame as one can. By making gifts of sesame every day, one is sure to attain the fruition of one's every wish. The gift of sesame at Sraddhas is applauded. Verily the gift of sesame is a very superior one. Do thou make gifts of sesame unto the Brahmanas according to the rites ordained in the scriptures. One should on the day of the full moon of the month of Vaisakha, make gifts of sesame unto the Brahmanas. They should also be made to eat and to touch sesame on every occasion that one can afford. They that are desirous of achieving what is beneficial to them should, with their whole souls, do this in their houses.[347] Without doubt, men should similarly make gifts of water and establish resting places for the distribution of drinking water.[348] One should cause tanks and lakes and wells to be excavated. Such acts are rare in the world, O best of regenerate persons! Do thou always make gifts of water. This act is fraught with great merit. O best of regenerate persons, thou shouldst establish resting places along the roads for the distribution of water. After one has eaten, the gift unto one should especially be made of water for drink.'" "'Bhishma continued, "After Yama had said these words unto him, the messenger who had borne him from his abode conveyed him back to it. The Brahmana, on his return, obeyed the instructions he had received. Having thus conveyed him back to his abode the messenger of Yama fetched Sarmin who had really been sought by Yama. Taking Sarmin unto him, he informed his master. Possessed of great energy, the judge of the dead worshipped that righteous Brahmana, and having conversed with him a while dismissed him for being taken back to his abode. Unto him also Yama gave the same instructions. Sarmin, too, coming back into the world of men, did all that Yama had said. Like the gift of water, Yama, from a desire of doing good to the Pitris, applauds the gift of lamps to light dark places. Hence, the giver of a lamp for lighting a dark place is regarded as benefiting the Pitris. Hence, O best of the Bharatas, one should always give lamps for lighting dark spots. The giving of lamps enhances the visual power of the deities, the Pitris, and one's own self.[349] It has been said, O king, that the gift of gems is a very superior gift. The Brahmana, who, having accepted a gift of gems, sells the same for performing a sacrifice, incurs no fault. The Brahmana, who, having accepted a gift of gems makes a gift of them unto Brahmanas, acquires inexhaustible merit himself and confers inexhaustible merit upon him from whom he had originally received them. Conversant with every duty Manu himself has said that he, who, observant of proper restraints, earns makes a gift of gems unto a Brahmana observant of proper restraints earns inexhaustible merit himself and confers inexhaustible merit upon the recipient. The man who is content with his own wedded wife and who makes a gift of robes, earns an excellent complexion and excellent vestments for himself. I have told thee, O foremost of men, what the merits are that attach to gifts of kine, of gold, and the sesame agreeably to deserve precepts of the Vedas and the scriptures. One should marry and raise offspring upon one's wedded wives. Of all acquisitions, O son of Kuru's race, that of male issue is regarded as the foremost."'" SECTION LXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Do thou, O foremost one of Kuru's race, discourse unto me once again of the excellent ordinance regarding gifts, with especial reference, O thou of great wisdom, to the gift of earth. A Kshatriya should make gifts of earth unto a Brahmana of righteous deeds. Such a Brahmana should accept the gift with due rites. None else, however, than a Kshatriya is competent to make gifts of earth. It behoves thee now to tell me what these objects are that persons of all classes are free to bestow if moved by the desire of earning merit. Thou shouldst also tell me what has been said in the Vedas on this subject." "'Bhishma said, "There are three gifts that go by the same name and that are productive of equal merits. Indeed, these three confer the fruition of every wish. The three objects whose gifts are of such a character are kine, earth, and knowledge.[350] That person who tells his disciple words of righteous import drawn from the Vedas acquires merit equal to that which is won by making gifts of earth and kine. Similarly are kine praised (as objects of gifts). There is no object of gift higher than they. Kine are supposed to confer merit immediately. They are also, O Yudhishthira, such that a gift of them cannot but lead to great merit. Kine are the mothers of all creatures. They bestow every kind of happiness. The person that desires his own prosperity should always make gifts of kine. No one should kick at kine or proceed through the midst of kine. Kine are goddesses and homes of auspiciousness. For this reason, they always deserve worship. Formerly, the deities, while tilling the earth whereon they performed a sacrifice, used the goad for striking the bullocks yoked to the plough. Hence, in tilling earth for such a purpose, one may, without incurring censure or sin, apply the goad to bullocks. In other acts, however, bullocks should never be struck with the goad or the whip. When kine are grazing or lying down no one should annoy them in any way. When the cows are thirsty and they do not get water (in consequence of any one obstructing their access to the pool or tank or river), they, by merely looking at such a person, can destroy him with all his relatives and friends. What creatures can be more sacred than kine when with the very dung of kine altars whereon Sraddhas are performed in honour of the Pitris, or those whereon the deities are worshipped, are cleansed and sanctified? That man, who, before eating himself gives every day, for a year, only a handful of grass unto a cow belonging to another, is regarded as undergoing a vow or observance which bestows the fruition of every wish. Such a person acquires children and fame and wealth and prosperity, and dispels all evils and dreams." "'Yudhishthira said, "What should be the indications of those kine that deserve to be given away? What are those kine that should be passed over in the matter of gifts? What should be the character of those persons unto whom kine should be given? Who, again, are those unto whom kine should not be given?" "'Bhishma said, "A cow should never be given unto one that is not righteous in behaviour, or one that is sinful, or one that is covetous or one that is untruthful in speech, or one that does not make offerings unto the Pitris and deities. A person, by making a gift of ten kine unto a Brahmana learned in the Vedas, poor in earthly wealth, possessed of many children, and owning a domestic fire, attains to numerous regions of great felicity. When a man performs any act that is fraught with merit assisted by what he has got in gift from another, a portion of the merit attaching to that act becomes always his with whose wealth the act has been accomplished. He that procreates a person, he that rescues a person, and he that assigns the means of sustenance to a person are regarded as the three sires. Services dutifully rendered to the preceptor destroys sin. Pride destroys even great fame. The possession of three children destroys the reproach of childlessness, and the possession of ten kine dispels the reproach of poverty. Unto one that is devoted to the Vedanta, that is endued with great learning, that has been filled with wisdom, that has a complete control over his senses, that is observant of the restraints laid down in the scriptures, that has withdrawn himself from all worldly attachments, unto him that says agreeable words unto all creatures, unto him that would never do an evil act even when impelled by hunger, unto one that is mild or possessed of a peaceful disposition, unto one that is hospitable to all guests,--verily unto such a Brahmana should a man, possessed of similar conduct and owning children and wives, assign the means of sustenance. The measure of merit that attaches to the gift of kine unto a deserving person is exactly the measure of the sin that attaches to the act of robbing a Brahmana of what belongs to him. Under all circumstances should the spoliation of what belongs to a Brahmana be avoided, and his spouses kept at a distance."'" SECTION LXX "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, is recited by the righteous the narrative of the great calamity that overtook king Nriga in consequence of his spoliation of what had belonged to a Brahmana. Some time before, certain young men of Yadu's race, while searching for water, had come upon a large well covered with grass and creepers. Desirous of drawing water from it, they laboured very much for removing the creepers that covered its mouth. After the mouth had been cleaned, they beheld within the well a very large lizard residing within it. The young men made strong and repeated efforts for rescuing the lizard from that situation. Resembling a very hill in size, the lizard was sought to be freed by means of cords and leathern tongs. Not succeeding in their intention the young men then went to Janardana. Addressing him they said, 'Covering the entire space of a well, there is a very large lizard to be seen. Notwithstanding our best efforts we have not succeeded in rescuing it from that situation.' Even this was what they represented unto Krishna. Vasudeva then proceeded to the spot and took out the lizard and questioned it as to who it was. The lizard said that it was identical with the soul of king Nriga who had flourished in days of old and who had performed many sacrifices. Unto the lizard that said those words, Madhava spoke, 'Thou didst perform many righteous acts. No sin didst thou commit. Why, then, O king, hast thou come to such a distressful end? Do thou explain what this is and why it has been brought about. We have heard that thou didst repeatedly make gifts unto the Brahmanas of hundreds upon hundreds of thousands and once again eight times hundreds upon hundreds of ten thousands of kine.[351] Why, therefore, has this end overtaken thee?' Nriga then replied unto Krishna, saying, 'On one occasion a cow belonging to a Brahmana who regularly worshipped his domestic fire, escaping from the owner's abode while he was absent from home entered my flock. The keepers of my cattle included that cow in their tale of a thousand. In time that cow was given away by me unto a Brahmana, acting as I did from desire of happiness in heaven. The true owner, returning home, sought for his lost cow and at last saw it in the house of another. Finding her, the owner said, "This cow is mine!" The other person contested his claim, till both, disputing and excited with wrath, came to me. Addressing me one of them said, "Thou hast been the giver of this cow!" The other one said, "Thou hast robbed me of this cow--she is mine!" I then solicited the Brahmana unto whom I had given that cow, to return the gift in exchange for hundreds upon hundreds of other kine. Without acceding to my earnest solicitations, he addressed me, saying. "The cow I have got is well-suited to time and place. She yields a copious measure of milk, besides being very quiet and very fond of us. The milk she yields is very sweet. She is regarded as worthy of every praise in my house. She is nourishing, besides, a weak child of mine that has just been weaned. She is incapable of being given up by me." Having said these words, the Brahmana went away. I then solicited the other Brahmana offering him an exchange, and saying, "Do thou take a hundred thousand kine for this one cow." The Brahmana, however, replied unto me, saying, "I do not accept gifts from persons of the kingly order. I am able to get on without help. Do thou then, without loss of time, give me that very cow which was mine." Even thus, O slayer of Madhu, did that Brahmana speak unto me. I offered to make gifts unto him of gold and silver and horses and cars. That foremost of Brahmanas refused to accept any of these as gift and went away. Meanwhile, urged by time's irresistible influence, I had to depart from this world. Wending to the region of the Pitris I was taken to the presence of the king of the dead. Worshipping me duly Yama addressed me, saying, "The end cannot be ascertained, O king, of thy deed. There is, however, a little sin which was unconsciously perpetrated by thee. Do thou suffer the punishment for that sin now or afterwards as it pleases thee. Thou hadst (upon thy accession to the throne) sworn that thou wouldst protect (all persons in the enjoyment of their own). That oath of thine was not rigidly kept by thee. Thou tookest also what belonged to a Brahmana. Even this has been the two-fold sin thou hast committed." I answered, saying, "I shall first undergo the distress of punishment, and when that is over, I shall enjoy the happiness that is in store for me, O lord!" After I had said those words unto the king of the dead, I fell down on the Earth. Though fallen down I still could hear the words that Yama said unto me very loudly. Those words were, "Janardana the son of Vasudeva, will rescue thee! Upon the completion of a full thousand years, when the demerit will be exhausted of thy sinful act, thou shalt then attain to many regions of inexhaustible felicity that have been acquired by thee through thy own acts of righteousness." Falling down I found myself, with head downwards, within this well, transformed into a creature of the intermediate order. Memory, however, did not leave me. By thee I have been rescued today. What else can it testify to than the puissance of thy penances? Let me have thy permission, O Krishna! I desire to ascend to heaven.' Permitted then by Krishna, king Nriga bowed his head unto him and then mounted a celestial car and proceeded to heaven. After Nriga had thus proceeded to heaven, O best of the Bharatas, Vasudeva recited this verse, O delighter of the Kurus. No one should consciously appropriate anything belonging to a Brahmana. The property of a Brahmana, if taken, destroys the taker even as the Brahmana's cow destroyed king Nriga! I tell thee, again, O Partha, that a meeting with the good never proves fruitless. Behold, king Nriga was rescued from hell through meeting with one that is good. As a gift is productive of merit even so an act of spoliation leads to demerit. Hence also, O Yudhishthira, one should avoid doing any injury to kine."'"[352] SECTION LXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "O sinless one, do thou discourse to me more in detail upon the merits that are attainable by making gifts of kine. O thou of mighty arms, I am never satiated with thy words!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is recited the old history of the discourse between the Rishi Uddalaki and his son called Nachiketa. Once on a time the Rishi Uddalaki endued with great intelligence, approaching his son Nachiketa, said unto him, 'Do thou wait upon and serve me.' Upon the completion of the vow he had observed the great Rishi once more said unto his son, 'Engaged in performing my ablutions and deeply taken up with my Vedic study, I have forgotten to bring with me the firewood, the Kusa blades, the flowers, the water jar, and the potherbs I had gathered. Do thou bring me those things from the riverside.' The son proceeded to the spot indicated, but saw that all the articles had been washed away by the current. Coming back to his father, he said, 'I do not see the things!' Afflicted as he then was with hunger, thirst, and fatigue, the Rishi Uddalaki of high ascetic merit, in a sudden wrath, cursed his son, saying, 'Do thou meet with Yama today!' Thus struck by his sire with the thunder of his speech, the son, with joined palms, said, 'Be appeased with me!' Soon, however, he fell down on the earth, deprived of life. Beholding Nachiketa prostrated upon the earth, his sire became deprived of his senses through grief. He, too, exclaiming, 'Alas, what have I done,' fell down on the earth. Filled with grief, as he indulged in lamentations for his son, the rest of that day passed away and night came. Then Nachiketa, O son of Kuru's race, drenched by the tears of his father, gave signs of returning life as he lay on a mat of Kusa grass. His restoration to life under the tears of his sire resembled the sprouting forth of seeds when drenched with auspicious showers. The son just restored to consciousness was still weak. His body was smeared with fragrant unguents and he looked like one just awaking from a deep slumber. The Rishi asked him, saying, 'Hast thou, O son, acquired auspicious regions by thy own acts? By good luck, thou hast been restored to me! Thy body does not seem to be human!' Thus asked by high-souled father, Nachiketa who had seen every thing with his own eyes, made the following answer unto him in the midst of the Rishis, 'In obedience to thy command I proceeded to the extensive region of Yama which is possessed of a delightful effulgence. There I beheld a palatial mansion which extended for thousands of Yojanas and emitted a golden splendour from every part. As soon as Yama beheld me approaching with face towards him, he commanded his attendants saying, "Give him a good seat, verily, the king of the dead, for thy sake worshipped we with the Arghya and the other ingredients." Thus worshipped by Yama and seated in the midst of his counsellors, I then said mildly, "I have come to thy abode, O judge of the dead! Do thou assign me those regions which I deserve for my acts!" Yama then answered me, saying, "Thou art not dead, O amiable one! Endued with penances, thy father said unto thee, 'Do thou meet with Yama!' The energy of thy sire is like that of a blazing fire. I could not possibly falsify that speech of his. Thou hast seen me. Do thou go hence, O child! The author of thy body is indulging in lamentations for thee. Thou art my dear guest. What wish of thine cherished by thee in thy heart shall I grant thee? Solicit the fruition of whatever desire thou mayst cherish." Thus addressed by him, I replied unto the king of the dead, saying, "I have arrived within thy dominions from which no traveller ever returns. If I really be an object deserving of thy attentions, I desire, O king of the dead, to have a sight of those regions of high prosperity and happiness that have been reserved for doers of righteous deeds." Thus addressed by me, Yama caused me to be mounted upon a vehicle of splendour as effulgent as that of the sun and unto which were harnessed many excellent steeds. Bearing me on that vehicle, he showed me, O foremost of regenerate persons, all those delightful regions that are reserved for the righteous. I beheld in those regions many mansions of great resplendence intended for high-souled persons. Those mansions are of diverse forms and are adorned with every kind of gem. Bright as the disc of the moon, they are ornamented with rows of tinkling bells. Hundreds among them are of many storeys. Within them are pleasant groves and woods and transparent bodies of water. Possessed of the effulgence of lapis lazuli and the sun, and made of silver and gold, their complexion resembles the colour of the morning sun. Some of them are immovable and some movable. Within them are many hills of viands and enjoyable articles and robes and beds in abundance. Within them are many trees capable of granting the fruition of every wish. There are also many rivers and roads and spacious halls and lakes and large tanks. Thousands of cars with rattling wheels may be seen there, having excellent steeds harnessed unto them. Many rivers that run milk, many hills of ghee, and large bodies of transparent water occur there. Verily, I beheld many such regions, never seen by me before of happiness and joy, approved by the king of the dead. Beholding all those objects, I addressed the ancient and puissant judge of the dead, saying, "For whose use and enjoyment have these rivers with eternal currents of milk and ghee been ordained?" Yama answered me saying, "These streams of milk and ghee, know thou, are for the enjoyment of those righteous persons, that make gifts in the world of men. Other eternal worlds there are which are filled with such mansions free from sorrow of every kind. These are reserved for those persons that are engaged in making gifts of kine.[353] The mere gift of kine is not worthy of praise. There are considerations of propriety or otherwise about the person unto whom kine should be given, the time for making those gifts, the kind of kine that should form the object of gifts, and the rites that should be observed in making the gifts. Gifts of kine should be made after ascertaining the distinctive qualifications of both Brahmanas (who are to receive them) and the kine themselves (which are to be given away). Kine should not be given unto one in whose abode they are likely to suffer from fire or the sun. That Brahmana who is possessed of Vedic lore, who is of austere penances, and who performs sacrifices, is regarded as worthy of receiving kine in gift. Those kine that have been rescued from distress situation, or that have been given by poor householders from want of sufficient means to feed and cherish them, are, for these reasons, reckoned as of high value.[354] Abstaining from all food and living upon water alone for three nights and sleeping the while on the bare earth, one should, having properly fed the kine one intends to give away, give them unto Brahmanas after having gratified them also (with other gifts). The kine given away should be accompanied by their calves. They should, again, be such as to bring forth good calves, at the proper seasons. They should be accompanied with other articles so given away. Having completed the gift, the giver should live for three days on only milk and forbearing from food of every other kind. He, who gives a cow that is not vicious, that brings forth good calves at proper intervals, and that does not fly away from the owners' house, and accompanies such gift with a vessel of white brass for milking her, enjoys the felicity of heaven for as many years as are measured by the number of hairs on the animal's body. He, who gives unto a Brahmana a bull well-broken and capable of bearing burdens, possessed of strength and young in years, disinclined to do any mischief, large-sized and endued with energy, enjoys those regions, that are reserved for givers of kine. He is regarded as a proper person for receiving a cow in gift who is known to be mild towards kine, who takes kine for his refuge, who is grateful, and who has no means of subsistence assigned unto him. When an old man becomes ill, or when a Brahmana intends to perform a sacrifice, or when one wishes to till for agriculture, or when one gets a son through the efficacy of a Homa performed for the purpose, or for the use of one's preceptor, or for the sustenance of a child (born in the usual way), one should give away a beloved cow. Even these are the considerations that are applauded (in the matter of making gifts of kine) in respect of place and time. The kine that deserve to be given away are those that yield copious measures of milk, or those that are well-known (for their docility and other virtues), or those that have been purchased for a price, or those that have been acquired as honoraria for learning, or those that have been obtained in exchange by offering other living creatures (such as sheep and goats, etc.), or those that have been won by prowess of arms, or those that have been gained as marriage-dower (from fathers-in-law and other relations of the wife)." "'"Nachiketa continued, 'Hearing these words of Vaivaswata, I once more addressed him, saying, "What are those objects by giving which, when kine are not procurable, givers may yet go to regions reserved for men making gifts of kine?" Questioned by me, the wise Yama answered, explaining further what the end is that is attainable by making gifts of kine. He said, "In the absence of kine, a person by making gifts of what has been regarded as the substitute of kine, wins the merit of making gifts of kine. If, in the absence of kine, one makes a gift of a cow made of ghee, observant of a vow the while, one gets for one's use these rivers of ghee all of which approach one like an affectionate mother approaching her beloved child. If, in the absence of even a cow made of ghee, one makes a gift of a cow made of sesame seeds, observing a cow the while, one succeeds with the assistance of that cow to get over all calamities in this world and to enjoy great happiness hereafter from these rivers of milk that thou beholdest! If in the absence of a cow made of sesame seeds, one makes a gift of a cow made of water one succeeds in coming to these happy regions and enjoying this river of cool and transparent water, that is, besides capable of granting the fruition of every wish." The king of the dead explained to me all this while I was his guest, and, O thou of unfading glory, great was the joy that I felt at sight of all the wonders he showed me. I shall now tell thee what would certainly be agreeable to thee. I have now got a great sacrifice whose performance does not require much wealth. That sacrifice (constituted by gifts of kine) may be said to flow from me, O sire! Others will obtain it also. It is not inconsistent with the ordinances of the Vedas. The curse that thou hadst pronounced upon me was no curse but was in reality a blessing, since it enabled me to have a sight of the great king of the dead. There I have beheld what the rewards are that attach to gifts. I shall, henceforth, O thou of great soul, practise the duty of gift without any doubt lurking in my mind respecting its rewards. And, O great Rishi, the righteous Yama, filled with joy, repeatedly told me, "One, who, by making frequent gifts, has succeeded in acquiring purity of mind should then make gifts of kine specially. This topic (about gifts) is fraught with sanctity. Do thou never disregard the duties in respect of gifts. Gifts, again, should be made unto deserving persons, when time and place are suitable. Do thou, therefore, always make gifts of kine. Never entertain any doubts in this respect. Devoted to the path of gifts, many high-souled persons in days of yore used to make gifts of kine. Fearing to practise austere penances, they made gifts according to the extent of their power. In time they cast off all sentiments of pride and vanity, and purified their souls. Engaged in performing Sraddhas in honour of the Pitris and in all acts of righteousness, they used to make, according to the extent of their power, gifts of kine, and as the reward of those acts they have attained to heaven and are shining in effulgence for such righteousness. One should, on the eighth day of the moon that is known by the name of Kamyashtami, make gifts of kine, properly won, unto the Brahmanas after ascertaining the eligibility of the recipients (by the ordinances already laid down). After making the gift, one should then subsist for ten days together upon only the milk of kine, their dung and their urine (abstaining from all other food the while). The merit that one acquires by making a gift of a bull is equal to that which attaches to the divine vow. By making a gift of a couple of kine one acquires, as the reward thereof, a mastery of the Vedas. By making a gift of cars and vehicles with kine yoked thereto, one acquires the merit of baths in sacred waters. By making a gift of a cow of the Kapila species, one becomes cleansed of all one's sins. Verily, by giving away even a single cow of the Kapila species that has been acquired by legitimate means, one becomes cleansed of all the sins one may have committed. There is nothing higher (in point of tastes) than the milk which is yielded by kine. The gift of a cow is truly regarded as a very superior gift. Kine by yielding milk, rescue all the worlds from calamity. It is kine, again, that produce the food upon which creatures subsist. One, who, knowing the extent of the service that kine do, does not entertain in one's heart affection for kine, is a sinner that is certain to sink in hell.[355] If one gives a thousand or a hundred or ten or five kine, verily, if one gives unto a righteous Brahmana even a single cow which brings forth good calves at proper intervals, one is sure to see that cow approach one in heaven in the form of a river of sacred water capable of granting the fruition of every wish. In respect of the prosperity and the growth that kine confer, in the matter also of the protection that kine grant unto all creatures of the earth, kine are equal to the very rays of the sun that fall on the earth.[356] The word that signifies the cow stands also for the rays of the sun. The giver of a cow becomes the progenitor of a very large race that extends over a large part of the earth. Hence, he that gives a cow shines like a second sun in resplendence. The disciple should, in the matter of making gifts of kine, select his preceptor. Such a disciple is sure to go to heaven. The selection of a preceptor (in the matter of the performance of pious deeds) is regarded as a high duty by persons conversant with the ordinances. This is, indeed, the initial ordinance. All other ordinances (respecting the gift of kine) depend upon it.[357] Selecting, after examination, an eligible person among the Brahmanas, one should make unto him the gift of a cow that has been acquired by legitimate means, and having made the gift cause him to accept it. The deities and men and ourselves also, in wishing good to other, say, 'Let the merits attaching to gifts be thine in consequence of thy righteousness!'" Even thus did the judge of the dead speak unto me, O regenerate Rishi. I then bowed my head unto the righteous Yama. Obtaining his permission I left his dominions and have now come to the sole of thy feet.'"'" SECTION LXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O grandsire, discoursed to me the topic of gifts of kine in speaking of the Rishi Nachiketa. Thou hast also impliedly discoursed, O puissant one, on the efficacy and pre-eminence of that act. Thou hast also told me, O grandsire of great intelligence, of the exceedingly afflicting character of the calamity that overtook the high-souled king Nriga in consequence of a single fault of his. He had to dwell for a long time at Dwaravati (in the form of a mighty lizard) and how Krishna became the cause of his rescue from that miserable plight. I have, however, one doubt. It is on the subject of the regions of kine. I desire to hear, in detail, about those regions which are reserved for the residence of persons that make gifts of kine." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is recited the old narrative of the discourse between Him who sprang from the primeval lotus and him who performed a hundred sacrifices. "'"Sakra said, 'I see, O Grandsire, that those who are residents of the region of kine transcend by their resplendence the prosperity of the denizens of heaven and pass them by (as beings of an inferior station). This has raised a doubt in my mind. Of what kind, O holy one, are the regions of kine? Tell me all about them, O sinless one! Verily, what is the nature of those regions that are inhabited by givers of kine? I wish to know this of what kind are those regions? What fruits do they bring? What is the highest object there which the denizens thereof succeeds in winning? What are its virtues? How also do men, freed from every kind of anxiety, succeed in going to those regions? For what period does the giver of a cow enjoy the fruits that are borne by his gift? How may persons make gifts of many kine and how may they make gifts of a few kine? What are the merits attaching to gifts of many kine and what those that attach to gifts of a few only? How also do persons become givers of kine without giving any kine in reality? Do thou tell me all this. How does one making gifts of even many kine, O puissant lord, become the equal of one that has made gift of only a few kine? How also does one who make gifts of only a few kine succeed in becoming the equal of one who has made gifts of many kine? What kind of Dakshina is regarded as distinguished for pre-eminence in the matter of gifts of kine? It behoveth thee, O holy one, to discourse unto me on all this agreeably to truth."'" SECTION LXXIII "'"The Grandsire said, 'The questions thou hast asked me in respect of kine, beginning with their gift, are such that there is none else in the three worlds, O thou of a hundred sacrifices, who could put them! There are many kinds of regions, O Sakra, which are invisible to even thee. Those regions are seen by me, O Indra, as also by those women that are chaste and that have been attached to only one husband. Rishis observant of excellent vows, by means of their deeds of righteousness and piety, and Brahmanas of righteous souls, succeed in repairing to them in even their fleshy forms. Men that are observant of excellent vows behold those regions which resemble the bright creations of dreams, aided by their cleansed minds and by that (temporary) emancipation which succeeds the loss of one's consciousness of body.[358] Listen, O thou of a thousand eyes, to me as I tell thee what the attributes are with which those regions are endued. There the very course of Time is suspended. Decrepitude is not there, nor Fire which is omnipresent in the universe. There the slightest evil does not occur, nor disease, nor weakness of any kind. The kine that live there, O Vasava, obtain the fruition of every desire which they cherish in their hearts. I have direct experience of what I say unto thee. Capable of going everywhere at will and actually repairing from place to place with ease, they enjoy the fruition of wish after wish as it arises in their minds. Lakes and tanks and rivers and forests of diverse kinds, and mansions and hills and all kinds of delightful objects,--delightful, that is, to all creatures,--are to be seen there. There is no region of felicity that is superior to any of these of which I speak. All those foremost of men, O Sakra, who are forgiving unto all creatures, who endure everything, who are full of affection for all things, who render dutiful obedience unto their preceptors, and who are free from pride and vanity, repair to those regions of supreme felicity. He, who abstains from every kind of flesh, who is possessed of a cleansed heart, who is endued with righteousness, who worships his parents with reverence, who is endued with truthfulness of speech and conduct, who attends with obedience upon the Brahmanas, who is faultless in conduct, who never behaves with anger towards kine and towards the Brahmanas, who is devoted to the accomplishment of every duty, who serves his preceptors with reverence, who is devoted for his whole life to truth and to gifts, and who is always forgiving towards all transgression against himself, who is mild and self-restrained, who is full of reverence for the deities, who is hospitable to all guests, who is endued with compassion,--verily, he, who is adorned with these attributes,--succeeds in attaining to the eternal and immutable region of kine. He, who is stained with adultery, sees not such a region; nor he, who is a slayer of his preceptor; nor he, who speaks falsely or indulges in idle boasts; nor he, who always disputes with others; nor he who behaves with hostility towards the Brahmanas. Indeed, that wicked wight, who is stained with such faults fails to attain even a sight of these regions of felicity; also he that injures his friends; also he that is full of guile; also he that is ungrateful; also he that is a cheat; also he that is crooked in conduct; also he that is a disregarder of religion; also he that is a slayer of Brahmanas. Such men are incapable of beholding in even imagination the region of kine that is the abode of only those who are righteous of deeds. I have told thee everything about the region of kine in minute detail, O chief of the deities! Hear now, O thou of a hundred sacrifices, the merit that is theirs who are engaged in making gifts of kine. He, who make gifts of kine, after purchasing them with wealth obtained by inheritance or acquired lawfully by him, attains, as the fruit of such an act to many regions of inexhaustible felicity. He, who makes a gift of a cow, having acquired it with wealth won at dice, enjoys felicity, O Sakra, for ten thousand years of celestial measure. He, who acquires a cow as his share of ancestral wealth is said to acquire her legitimately. Such a cow may be given away. They that make gifts of kine so acquired obtain many eternal regions of felicity that is inexhaustible. That person, who, having acquired a cow in gift makes a gift of her with a pure heart, succeeds without doubt, O lord of Sachi, in obtaining eternal regions of beatitude. That person, who, with restrained senses speaks the truth from his birth (to the time of his death) and who endures everything at the hands of his preceptor and of the Brahmanas, and who practises forgiveness, succeeds in attaining to an end that is equal to that of kine. That speech which is improper, O lord of Sachi, should never be addressed to a Brahmana. One, again, should not, in even one's mind, do an injury to a cow. One should, in one's conduct, imitate the cow, and show compassion towards the cow.[359] Hear, O Sakra, what the fruits are that become his, who is devoted to the duty of truth. If such a person gives away a single cow, that one cow becomes equal to a thousand kine. If a Kshatriya, possessed of such qualifications, makes a gift of a single cow, his merit becomes equal to that of a Brahmana's. That single cow, listen, O Sakra which such a Kshatriya gives away becomes the source of as much merit as the single cow that a Brahmana gives away under similar circumstances. Even this is the certain conclusion of the scriptures. If a Vaisya, possessed of similar accomplishments, were to make a gift of a single cow, that cow would be equal to five hundred kine (in respect of the merit she would produce). If a Sudra endued with humility were to make a gift of a cow, such a cow would be equal to a hundred and twenty-five kine (in respect of the merit it would produce). Devoted to penances and truth, proficient (in the scriptures and all acts) through dutiful services rendered to his preceptor, endued with forgiveness of disposition, engaged in the worship of the deities, possessed of a tranquil soul, pure (in body and mind), enlightened, observant of all duties, and freed from every kind of egotism, that man who makes a gift of a cow unto a Brahmana, certainly attains to great merit through that act of his, viz., the gift, according to proper rites, of a cow yielding copious milk. Hence, one, with singleness of devotion, observant of truth and engaged in humbly serving one's preceptor, should always make gifts of kine.[360] Hear, O Sakra, what the merit is of that person, who, duly studying the Vedas, shows reverence for kine, who always becomes glad at sight of kine, and who, since his birth has always bowed his head unto kine. The merit that becomes one's by performing the Rajasuya sacrifice, the merit that becomes one's by making gifts of heaps of gold, that high merit is acquired by a person who shows such reverence for kine. Righteous Rishis and high-souled persons crowned with success have said so. Devoted to truth, possessed of a tranquil soul, free from cupidity, always truthful in speech, and behaving with reverence towards kine with the steadiness of a vow, the man, who, for a whole year before himself taking any food, regularly presents some food to kine, wins the merit, by such an act, of the gift of a thousand kine. That man, who takes only one meal a day and who gives away the entire quantity of his other meal unto kine.--verily, that man, who thus reverences kine with the steadiness of a vow and shows such compassion towards them,--enjoys for ten years' unlimited felicity. That man, who confines himself to only one meal a day and with the other meal saved for some time purchases a cow and makes a gift of it (unto a Brahmana), earns, through that gift, O thou of a hundred sacrifices, the eternal merit that attaches to the gift of as many kine as there are hairs on the body of that single cow so given away. These are declarations in respect of the merit that Brahmanas acquire by making gifts of kine. Listen now to the merits that Kshatriyas may win. It has been said that a Kshatriya, by purchasing a cow in this manner and making a gift of it unto a Brahmana, acquires great felicity for five years. A Vaisya, by such conduct, acquires only half the merit of a Kshatriya, and a Sudra, by such conduct, earns half the merit that a Vaisya does. That man, who sells himself and with the proceeds thereof purchases kine and gives them away unto Brahmanas, enjoy felicity in heaven for as long a period as kine are seen on earth. It has been said, O highly blessed one, that in every hair of such kine as are purchased with the proceeds obtained by selling oneself, there is a region of inexhaustible felicity. That man, who having acquired kine by battle makes gifts of them (unto Brahmanas), acquires as much merit as he, who makes gifts of kine after having purchased the same with the proceeds of selling oneself. That man, who, in the absence of kine, makes a gift of a cow made of sesame seeds, restraining his senses the while, is rescued by such a cow from every kind of calamity or distress. Such a man sports in great felicity. The mere gift of kine is not fraught with merit. The considerations of deserving recipients, of time, of the kind of kine, and of the ritual to be observed, should be attended to. One should ascertain the proper time for making a gift of kine. One should also ascertain the distinctive qualifications of both Brahmanas (who are to receive them) and of kine themselves (which are to be given away). Kine should not be given unto one in whose abode they are likely to suffer from fire or the sun. One, who is rich in Vedic lore, who is of pure lineage, who is endued with a tranquil soul, who is devoted to the performance of sacrifices, who fears the commission of sin, who is possessed of varied knowledge, who is compassionate towards kine, who is mild in behaviour, who accords protection unto all that seek it of him, and who has no means of sustenance assigned unto him, is regarded as a proper person for receiving a gift of kine. Unto a Brahmana who has no means of sustenance, unto him while he is exceedingly afflicted for want of food (in a time, of famine, for example) for purposes of agriculture, for a child born in consequence of Homa, for the purposes of his preceptor, for the sustenance of a child born (in the ordinary course), should a cow be given. Verily, the gift should be made at a proper time and in a proper place[361]. Those kine, O Sakra, whose dispositions are well-known, which have been acquired as honoraria for knowledge, or which have been purchased in exchange for other animals (such as goats, sheep, etc.), or which have been won by prowess of arms, or obtained as marriage-dower; or which have been acquired by being rescued from situations of danger, or which incapable of being maintained by their poor owner have been made over for careful keep to another's house are, for such reasons, regarded as proper objects of gift. Those kine which are strong of body, which have good dispositions, and which emit an agreeable fragrance, are applauded in the matter of gifts. As Ganga is the foremost of all streams, even so is a Kapila cow the foremost of all animals of the bovine breed. Abstaining from all food and living only upon water for three nights, and sleeping for the same period upon the bare earth, one should make gifts of kine unto Brahmanas after having gratified them with other presents. Such kine, freed from every vice should, at the same time, be accompanied by healthy calves that have not been weaned. Having made the gift, the giver should live for the next three days in succession on food consisting only of the products of the cow.[362] By giving away a cow that is of good disposition, that quietly suffers herself to be milked, that always brings forth living and hale calves, and that does not fly away from the owner's abode, the giver enjoys felicity in the next world for as many years as there are hairs on her body. Similarly, by giving unto a Brahmana a bull that is capable of bearing heavy burden, that is young and strong and docile, that quietly bears the yoke of the plough, and that is possessed of such energy as is sufficient to undergo even great labour one attains to such regions as are his who gives away ten kine. That person, who rescues kine and Brahmanas (from danger) in the wilderness, O Kausika, becomes himself rescued from every kind of calamity. Hear what his merit is.[363] The merit such a man acquires is equal to the eternal merit of a Horse-sacrifice. Such a person attains to whatever end he desires at the hour of death. Many a region of felicity,--in fact, whatever happiness he covets in his heart,--becomes attainable to him in consequence of such an act of his. Verily, such man, permitted by kine, lives honoured in every region of felicity. That man, who follows kine every day in the woods himself subsisting the while on grass and cowdung and leaves of trees, his heart freed from desire of fruit, his senses restrained from every improper object and his mind purified of all dross,--that man,--O thou of a hundred sacrifices, lives in joy and freed from the dominion of desire in my region or in any other region of happiness that he wishes, in the company of the deities!'"'" SECTION LXXIV "'"Indra said, 'I wish to know, O Grandsire, what the end is that is attained by him who consciously steals a cow or who sells one from motives of cupidity.' "'"The Grandsire said, 'Hear what the consequences are that overtake those persons that steal a cow for killing her for food or selling her for wealth, or making a gift of her unto a Brahmana. He, who, without being checked by the restraints of the scriptures, sells a cow, or kills one, or eats the flesh of a cow, or they, who, for the sake of wealth, suffer a person to kill kine,--all these, viz., he that kills, he that eats, and he that permits the slaughter,--rot in hell for as many years as there are hairs on the body of the cow so slain.[364] O thou of great puissance, those faults and those kinds of faults that have been said to attach to one that obstructs a Brahmana's sacrifice, are said to attach to the sale and the theft of kine. That man, who, having stolen a cow makes a gift of her unto a Brahmana, enjoys felicity in heaven as the reward of the gift but suffers misery in hell for the sin of theft for as long a period. Gold has been said to constitute the Dakshina, O thou of great splendour, in gifts of kine. Indeed, gold has been said to be the best Dakshina in all sacrifices. By making a gift of kine one is said to rescue one's ancestors to the seventh degree as also one's descendants to the seventh degree. By giving away kine with Dakshina of gold one rescues one's ancestors and descendants of double the number. The gift of gold is the best of gifts. Gold is, again, the best Dakshina. Gold is a great cleanser, O Sakra, and is, indeed, the best of all cleansing objects. O thou of a hundred sacrifices, gold has been said to be the sanctifier of the entire race of him who gives it away. I have thus, O thou of great splendour, told thee in brief of Dakshina.'" "'Bhishma said, "Even this was said by the Grandsire unto Indra, O chief of Bharata's race! Indra imparted it unto Dasaratha, and Dasaratha in his turn unto his son Rama. Rama of Raghu's race imparted it unto his dear brother Lakshmana of great fame. While dwelling in the woods, Lakshmana imparted it unto the Rishis. It has then come down from generation to generation, for the Rishis of rigid vows held it amongst themselves as also the righteous kings of the earth. My preceptor, O Yudhishthira, communicated it to me. That Brahmana, who recites it every day in the assemblies of Brahmanas, in sacrifices or at gifts of kine, or when two persons meet together, obtains hereafter many regions of inexhaustible felicity where he always resides with the deities as his companions. The holy Brahman, the Supreme Lord, had said so (unto Indra on the subject of kine)."'" SECTION LXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "I have been greatly assured, O thou of puissance, by thee thus discoursing unto me of duties. I shall, however, give expression to the doubts I have. Do thou explain them to me, O grandsire! What are the fruits, declared in the scriptures, of the vows that men observe. Of what nature are the fruits, O thou of great splendour, of observances of other kinds? What, again, are the fruits, of one's studying the Vedas properly?[365] What are the fruits of gifts, and what those of holding the Vedas in memory? What are the fruits that attach to the teaching of the Vedas? I desire to know all this. What, O grandsire, are the merits attaching to the non-acceptance of gifts in this world? What fruits are seen to attach to him who makes gifts of knowledge? What are the merits acquired by persons that are observant of the duties of their order, as also by heroes that do not flee from battle? What are the fruits that have been declared to attach to the observance of purity and to the practice of Brahmacharya? What are the merits that attach to the service of the father and of the mother? What also are the merits of serving preceptors and teachers, and what are the merits of compassion and kindness? I desire to know all these, O grandsire, truly and in detail, O thou that art conversant with all the scriptures! Great is the curiosity I feel." "'Bhishma said, "Eternal regions of felicity become his, who, having properly commenced a Vrata (vow) completes its observance according to the scriptures, without a break. The fruits of Niyamas, O king, are visible even in this world. These rewards that thou hast won are those of Niyamas and sacrifices. The fruits that attach to the study of the Vedas are seen both here and hereafter. The person, who is devoted to the study of the Vedas is seen to sport in felicity both in this world and in the region of Brahma. Listen now to me, O king, as I tell thee in detail what the fruits are of self-restraint. They that are self-restrained are happy everywhere. They that are self-restrained are always in the enjoyment of that felicity which attaches to the absence or subjugation of desire. They that are self-restrained are competent to go everywhere at will. They that are self-restrained are capable of destroying every foe. Without doubt, they that are self-restrained succeed in obtaining everything they seek. They that are self-restrained, O son of Pandu, obtain the fruition of every wish. The happiness that men enjoy in heaven through penances and prowess (in arms), through gift, and through diverse sacrifices, becomes theirs that are self-restrained and forgiving. Self-restraint is more meritorious than gift. A giver, after making a gift unto the Brahmanas, may yield to the influence of wrath. A self-restrained man, however, never yields to wrath. Hence, self-restraint is superior (in point of merit) to gift. That man, who makes gifts without yielding to wrath, succeeds in attaining to eternal regions of felicity. Wrath destroys the merit of a gift. Hence, self-restraint is superior to gift. There are various invisible places, O monarch, numbering by ten thousands, in heaven. Existing in all the regions of heaven, these places belong to the Rishis. Persons, leaving this world, attain to them and become transformed into deities. O king, the great Rishis repair thither, aided only by their self-restraint, and as the end of their efforts to attain to a region of superior happiness. Hence, self-restraint is superior (in efficacy) to gift. The person, who becomes a preceptor (for teaching the Vedas), and who duly worships the fire, taking leave of all his afflictions in this world, enjoys inexhaustible felicity, O king, in the region of Brahma. That man, who, having himself studied the Vedas, imparts a knowledge thereof unto righteous disciples, and who praises the acts of his own preceptor, attains to great honours in heaven. That Kshatriya, who takes to the study of the Vedas, to the performance of sacrifices, to the making of gifts, and who rescues the lives of others in battle, similarly attains to great honours in heaven. The Vaisya, who, observant of the duties of his order, makes gifts, reaps as the fruit of those gifts, a crowning reward. The Sudra, who duly observes the duties of his order (which consist of services rendered to the three other orders) wins heaven as the reward of such services. Diverse kinds of heroes have been spoken of (in the scriptures). Listen to me as I expound to thee what the rewards are that they attain to. The rewards are fixed of a hero belonging to a heroic race. There are heroes of sacrifice, heroes of self-restraint, heroes of truth, and others equally entitled to the name of hero. There are heroes of battle, and heroes of gift of liberality among men. There are many persons, who may be called the heroes of the Sankhya faith as, indeed, there are many others that are called heroes of Yoga. There are others that are regarded as heroes in the matter of forest-life, of householding or domesticity, and of renunciation (or Sannyasa). Similarly, there are others that are called heroes of the intellect, and also heroes of forgiveness. There are other men, who live in tranquillity and who are regarded as heroes of righteousness. There are diverse other kinds of heroes that practise diverse other kinds of vows and observances. There are heroes devoted to the study of the Vedas and heroes devoted to the teaching of the same. There are, again, men that come to be regarded as heroes for the devotion with which they wait upon and serve their preceptors, as indeed, heroes in respect of the reverence they show to their sires. There are heroes in respect of obedience to mothers, and heroes in the matter of the life of mendicancy they lead. There are heroes in the matter of hospitality to guests, whether living as householders. All these heroes attain to very superior regions of felicity which are, of course, acquired by them as the rewards of their own acts. Holding all the Vedas in memory, or ablutions performed in all the sacred waters, may or may not be equal to telling the Truth every day in one's life. A thousand horse sacrifices and Truth were once weighed in the balance. It was seen that Truth weighed heavier than a thousand horse-sacrifices. It is by Truth that the sun is imparting heat, it is by Truth that fire blazes up, it is by Truth that the winds blow; verily, everything rests upon Truth. It is Truth that gratifies the deities, the Pitris and the Brahmanas. Truth has been said to be the highest duty. Therefore, no one should ever transgress Truth. The Munis are all devoted to Truth. Their prowess depends upon Truth. They also swear by Truth. Hence, Truth is pre-eminent. All truthful men, O chief of Bharata's race, succeed by their truthfulness in attaining to heaven and sporting there in felicity. Self-restraint is the attainment of the reward that attaches to Truth. I have discoursed on it with my whole heart. The man of humble heart who is possessed of self-restraint, without doubt, attains to great honours in heaven. Listen now to me, O lord of Earth, as I expound to thee the merits of Brahmacharya. That man, who practises the vow of Brahmacharya from his birth to the time of his death, know, O king, has nothing unattainable! Many millions of Rishis are residing in the region of Brahma. All of them, while here, were devoted to Truth, and self-restrained and had their vital seed drawn up. The vow of Brahmacharya, O king, duly observed by a Brahmana, is sure to burn all his sins. The Brahmana is said to be a blazing fire. In those Brahmanas that are devoted to penances, the deity of fire becomes visible. If a Brahmacharin yields to wrath in consequence of any slight the chief of the deities himself trembles in fear. Even this is the visible fruit of the vow of Brahmacharya that is observed by the Rishis. Listen to me, O Yudhishthira, what the merit is that attaches to the worship of the father and the mother. He, who dutifully serves his father without ever crossing him in anything, or similarly serves his mother or (elder) brother or other senior or preceptor, it should be known, O king, earns a residence in heaven. The man of cleansed soul, in consequence of such service rendered to his seniors, has never even to behold hell."'" SECTION LXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire, O king, to hear thee discourse in detail upon those high ordinances which regulate gifts of kine, for it is by making gifts (of kine) according to those ordinances that one attains to innumerable regions of eternal felicity." "'Bhishma said, "There is no gift, O lord of Earth, that is higher in point of merit than the gift of kine. A cow, lawfully acquired, if given away, immediately rescues the whole race of the giver. That ritual which sprang for the benefit of the righteous, was subsequently declared for the sake of all creatures. That ritual has come down from primeval time. It existed even before it was declared. Verily, O king, listen to me as I recite to thee that ritual which affects the gift of kine.[366] In days of yore when a number of kine (intended to be given away) was brought (before him), king Mandhatri, filled with doubt in respect of the ritual he should observe (in actually giving them away), properly questioned Vrihaspati (the preceptor of the celestials) for an explanation of that doubt. Vrihaspati said, 'Duly observing restraints the while, the giver of kine should, on the previous day, properly honour the Brahmanas and appoint the (actual) time of gift. As regards the kine to be given away, they should be of the class called Rohini. The kine also should be addressed with the words--Samange and Vahule--Entering the fold where the kine are kept, the following Srutis should be uttered,--The cow is my mother. The bull is my sire. (Give me) heaven and earthly prosperity! The cow is my refuge!--Entering the fold and acting in this way, the giver should pass the night there. He should again utter the formula when actually giving away the kine.[367] The giver, thus residing with the kine in the fold without doing anything to restrain their freedom, and lying down on the bare earth (without driving away the gnats and other insects that would annoy him as they annoy the kine), becomes immediately cleansed of all his sins in consequence of his reducing himself to a state of perfect similitude with the kine. When the sun rises in the morning, thou shouldst give away the cow, accompanied by her calf and a bull. As the reward of such an act, heaven will certainly become attainable to thee. The blessings also that are indicated by the Mantras will also be thine. The Mantras contain these references to kine: Kine are endued with the elements of strength and energetic exertion. Kine have in them the elements of wisdom. They are the source of that immortality which sacrifice achieves. They are the refuge of all energy. They are the steps by which earthly prosperity is won. They constitute the eternal course of the universe. They lead to the extension of one's race. Let the kine (I give away) destroy my sins. They have that in them which partakes in the nature of both Surya, and Soma. Let them be aids to my attainment of heaven. Let them betake themselves to me as a mother takes to her offspring. Let all other blessings also be mine that have not been named in the Mantras I have uttered! In the alleviation or cure of phthisis and other wasting diseases, and in the matter of achieving freedom from the body, if a person takes the help of the five products of the cow, kine become inclined to confer blessings upon the person like the river Saraswati--Ye kine, ye are always conveyers of all kinds of merit! Gratified with me, do ye appoint a desirable end for me! I have today become what ye are! By giving you away, I really give myself away. (After these words have been uttered by giver, the receiver should say),--Ye are no longer owned by him who gives you away! Ye have now become mine. Possessed of the nature of both Sutya and Soma, do ye cause both the giver and the receiver to blaze forth with all kinds of prosperity!--(As already indicated), the giver should duly utter the words occurring in the first part of the above verse. The regenerate recipient, conversant with the ritual that regulates the gift of kine, should, when receiving the kine in gift, utter (as already) said the words occurring in the latter half of the above verse. The man who, instead of a cow, gives away the usual value thereof or cloths or gold, comes to be regarded as the giver of a cow. The giver, when giving away the usual value of a cow (as the substitute of a cow) should utter the words,--This cow with face upturned is being given away. Do thou accept her!--The man who gives away cloths (as the substitute of a cow) should utter the words,--Bhavitavya--(meaning that the gift should be regarded as representing a cow). The man who gives away gold (as the substitute of a cow) should utter the word,--Vaishnavi (meaning, this gold that I give away is of the form and nature of a cow).--Even these are the words that should be uttered in the order of the kind of gift mentioned above. The reward that is reaped by making such vicarious gifts of kine is residence in Heaven for six and thirty thousand years, eight thousand years, and twenty thousand years respectively. Even these are the merits, respectively, of gifts of things as substitute of kine. While as regards him who gives an actual cow all the merits that attach to vicarious gifts of kine become his at only the eight step (homewards) of the recipient.[368] He that gives an actual cow becomes endued with righteous behaviour in this world. He that gives the value of a cow becomes freed from every kind of fear. He that gives a cow (as a substitute in way for a real cow) never meet with sorrow. All the three, as also they that regularly go through their ablutions and other acts at early dawn, and he that is well-conversant with the Mahabharata, it is well-known, attain to the regions of Vishnu and Soma. Having given away a cow, the giver should, for three nights, adopt the vaccine vow, and pass one night with kine. Commencing again from that lunation, numbering the eight, which is known by the name of Kamya, he should pass three nights, supporting himself entirely on milk and urine and dung of the cow.[369] By giving away a bull, one attains to the merit that attaches to the divine vow (Brahmacharya). By giving away a couple of kine, one acquires the mastery of the Vedas. That man who performs a sacrifice and makes gifts of kine agreeably to the ritual laid down, attains to many regions of a superior character. These, however, are not attainable by the person who is unacquainted with that ritual (and who, therefore, gives away kine without observing the scriptural declarations). That man who gives away even a single cow that yields a copious measure of milk, acquires the merit of giving away all desirable things on Earth collected together. What need, therefore, be said of the gift of many such kine as yield Havya and Kavya in consequence of their full udders? The merit that attaches to the gift of superior oxen is greater than that which attaches to the gift of kine. One should not, by imparting a knowledge of this ritual, benefit a person that is not one's disciple or that is not observant of vows or that is bereft of faith or that is possessed of a crooked understanding. Verily, this religion is a mystery, unknown to most people. One that knows it should not speak of it at every place. There are, in the world, many men that are bereft of faith. There are among men many persons that are mean and that resemble Rakshasas. This religion, if imparted unto them, would lead to evil. It would be productive of equal evil if imparted to such sinful men as have taken shelter in atheism.'--Listen to me, O king, as I recite to thee the names of those righteous monarchs that have attained to regions of great felicity as the reward of those gifts of kine which they made agreeable to the instructions of Vrihaspati, Usinara, Viswagaswa, Nriga, Bhagiratha, the celebrated Mandhatri the son of Yuvanaswa, king Muchukunda, Bhagiratha, Naishadha, Somaka, Pururavas, Bharata of imperial sway to whose race belongs all the Bharatas, the heroic Rama the son of Dasaratha, and many other celebrated kings of great achievement, and also king Dilipa of widely known deeds, all, in consequence of their gifts of kine agreeable to the ritual, attained to Heaven. King Mandhatri was always observant of sacrifices, gifts, penances, kingly duties, and gifts of kine. Therefore, O son of Pritha, do thou also bear in mind those instructions of Vrihaspati which I have recited unto thee (in respect of gifts of kine). Having obtained the kingdom of the Kurus, do thou, with a cheerful heart, make gifts of good kine unto foremost of Brahmanas!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Bhishma on the subject of properly making gifts of kine, king Yudhishthira did all that Bhishma wished. Verily, king Yudhishthira bore in mind the whole of that religion which the preceptor of the deities imparted unto the royal Mandhatri. Yudhishthira from that time began to make always gifts of kine and to support himself on grains of barley and on cowdung as both his food and drink. The king also began to sleep from that day on the bare earth, and possessed of restrained soul and resembling a bull in conduct, he became the foremost of monarchs.[370] The Kuru king from that day became very attentive to kine and always worshipped them, hymning their praises. From that day, the king gave up the practice of yoking kine unto his vehicles. Wheresoever he had occasion to go, he proceeded on cars drawn by horses of good mettle.'" SECTION LXXVII "Vaisampayana said, 'King Yudhishthira endued with humility, once again questioned the royal son of Santanu on the subject of gifts of kine in detail.' "'The king said, "Do thou, O Bharata, once more discourse to me in detail on the merits of giving away kine. Verily, O hero, I have not been satiated with hearing thy nectar-like words!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by king Yudhishthira the just, Santanu's son began to discourse to him once again, in detail on the merits attaching to the gift of kine.' "'Bhishma said, "By giving unto a Brahmana a cow possessed of a calf, endued with docility and other virtues, young in years, and wrapped round with a piece of cloth, one becomes cleansed of all one's sins. There are many regions (in Hell) which are sunless. One who makes the gift of a cow has not to go thither. That man, however, who gives unto a Brahmana a cow that is incapable of drinking or eating, that has her milk dried up, that is endued with senses all of which have been weakened, and that is diseased and overcome with decrepitude, and that may, therefore, be likened to a tank whose water has been dried up,--indeed, the man who gives such a cow unto a Brahmana and thereby inflicts only pain and disappointment upon him, has certainly to enter into dark Hell. That cow which is wrathful and vicious, or diseased, or weak or which has been purchased without the price agreed upon having been paid,--or which would only afflict the regenerate recipient with distress and disappointment, should never be given. The regions such a man may acquire (as the rewards of other acts of righteousness performed by him) would fail to give him any happiness or impart to him any energy. Only such kine as are strong, endued with good behaviour, young in years, and possessed of fragrance, are applauded by all (in the matter of gift). Verily, as Ganga is the foremost of all rivers, even so is a Kapila cow the foremost of all kine." "'Yudhishthira said, "Why, O grandsire, do the righteous applaud the gift of a Kapila cow (as more meritorious) when all good kine that are given away should be regarded as equal? O thou of great puissance, I wish to hear what the distinction is that attaches to a Kapila cow. Thou art, verily, competent to discourse to me on this topic!"[371] "'Bhishma said, "I have, O son, heard old men recite this history respecting the circumstances under which the Kapila cow was created. I shall recite that old history to thee! In days of yore, the Self-born Brahman commanded the Rishi Daksha, saying,--'Do thou create living creatures!' From desire of doing good to creatures, Daksha, in the first instance, created food. Even as the deities exist, depending upon nectar, all living creatures, O puissant one, live depending upon the sustenance assigned by Daksha. Among all objects mobile and immobile, the mobile are superior. Among mobile creatures Brahmanas are superior. The sacrifices are all established upon them. It is by sacrifice that Soma (nectar) is got. Sacrifice has been established upon kine.[372] The gods become gratified through sacrifices. As regards the Creation then, the means of support came first, creatures came next. As soon as creatures were born, they began to cry aloud for food. All of them then approached their creator who was to give them food like children approaching their father or mother. Knowing the intention which moved all his creatures, the holy lord of all creatures, viz., Daksha, for the sake of the beings he had created, himself drank a quantity of nectar. He became gratified with the nectar he quaffed and thereupon an eructation came out, diffusing an excellent perfume all around. As the result of that eructation, Daksha saw that it gave birth to a cow which he named Surabhi. This Surabhi was thus a daughter of his, that had sprung from his mouth. The cow called Surabhi brought forth a number of daughters who came to be regarded as the mothers of the world. Their complexion was like that of gold, and they were all Kapilas. They were the means of sustenance for all creatures. As those kine, whose complexion resembled that of Amrita, began to pour milk, the froth of that milk arose and began to spread on every side, even as when the waves of a running stream dashing against one another, copious froth is produced that spreads on every side. Some of that froth fell, from the mouths of the calves that were sucking, upon the head of Mahadeva who was then sitting on the Earth. The puissant Mahadeva thereupon, filled with wrath, cast his eyes upon those kine. With that third eye of his which adorns his forehead, he seemed to burn those kine as he looked at them. Like the Sun tingeing masses of clouds with diverse colours the energy that issued from the third eye of Mahadeva produced, O monarch, diverse complexion in those kine. Those amongst them, however, which succeeded in escaping from the glance of Mahadeva by entering the region of Soma, remained of the same colour with which they were born, for no change was produced in their complexion. Seeing that Mahadeva had become exceedingly angry, Daksha, the lord of all creatures, addressed him, saying--'Thou hast, O great deity, been drenched with nectar. The milk or the froth that escapes from the mouths of calves sucking their dams is never regarded as impure remnant.[373] Chandramas, after drinking the nectar, pours it once more. It is not, however, on that account, looked upon as impure. After the same manner, the milk that these kine yield, being born of nectar, should not be regarded as impure (even though the udders have been touched by the calves with their mouths). The wind can never become impure. Fire can never become impure. Gold can never become impure. The Ocean can never become impure. The Nectar, even when drunk by the deities, can never become impure. Similarly, the milk of a cow, even when her udders are sucked by her calf, can never become impure. These kine will support all these worlds with the milk they will yield and the ghee that will be manufactured therefrom. All creatures wish to enjoy the auspicious wealth, identifiable with nectar, that kine possess!'--Having said these words, the lord of creatures, Daksha, made a present unto Mahadeva of a bull with certain kine. Daksha gratified the heart of Rudra, O Bharata, with that present. Mahadeva, thus gratified, made that bull his vehicle. And it was after the form of that bull that Mahadeva adopted the device on the standard floating on his battle-car. For this reason it is that Rudra came to be known as the bull-bannered deity. It was on that occasion also that the celestials, uniting together, made Mahadeva the lord of animals. Indeed, the great Rudra became the Master of kine and is named as the bull-signed deity. Hence, O king, in the matter of giving away kine, the gift is regarded as primarily desirable of Kapila kine which are endued with great energy and possessed of colour unchanged (from white). Thus are kine, the foremost of all creatures in the world. It is from them that the means have flowed of the sustenance of all the worlds. They have Rudra for their master. They yield Soma (nectar) in the form of milk. They are auspicious and sacred, and grantors of every wish and givers of life. A person by making a gift of a cow come to be regarded as making a gift of every article that is desired to be enjoyed by men. That man who, desiring to attain to prosperity, reads with a pure heart and body these verses on the origin of kine, becomes cleansed of all his sins and attains to prosperity and children and wealth and animals. He who makes a gift of a cow, O king, always succeeds in acquiring the merits that attach to gifts of Havya and Kavya, to the offer of oblations of water unto the Pitris, to other religious acts whose performance brings peace and happiness, to the gift of vehicles and cloths, and to the cherishing of children and the old."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of his grandsire, Pritha's son, viz., the royal Yudhishthira of Ajamida's race, uniting with his brothers, began to make gifts of both bulls and kine of different colours unto foremost of Brahmanas. Verily, for the purpose of subduing regions of felicity in the next, and winning great fame, king Yudhishthira performed many sacrifices and, as sacrificial presents, gave away hundreds of thousands of kine unto such Brahmanas.'" SECTION LXXVIII "'Bhishma said, "In days of yore, king Saudasa born of Ikshvaku's race, that foremost of eloquent men, on one occasion approached his family priest, viz., Vasishtha, that foremost of Rishis, crowned with ascetic success, capable of wandering through every region, the receptacle of Brahma, and endued with eternal life and put him the following question. "'"Saudasa said, 'O holy one, O sinless one, what is that in the three worlds which is sacred and by reciting which at all times a man may acquire high merit?'" "'Bhishma said, "Unto king Saudasa who stood before him with head bent in reverence, the learned Vasishtha having first bowed unto kine and purified himself (in body and mind), discoursed upon the mystery relating to kine, a topic that is fraught with result highly beneficial to all persons. "'"Vasishtha said, 'Kine are always fragrant. The perfume emanated by the exudation of the Amytis agallochum issues out of the bodies. Kine are the great refuge of all creatures. Kine constitute the great source of blessing unto all.[374] Kine are the Past and the Future. Kine are the source of eternal growth. Kine are the root of Prosperity. Anything given to kine is never lost. Kine constitute the highest food. They are the best Havi for the deities. The Mantras called Swaha and Vashat are forever established in kine. Kine constitute the fruit of sacrifices. Sacrifices are established in kine. Kine are the Future and the Past, and Sacrifice rest on them. Morning and evening kine yield unto the Rishis, O foremost of men, Havi for use in Homa, O thou of great effulgence. They who make gift of kine succeed in transcending all sins which they may have committed and all kinds of calamities into which they may fall, O thou of great puissance. The man possessing ten kine and making a gift of one cow, he possessing a hundred kine and making a gift of ten kine, and he possessing a thousand kine and making a gift of a hundred kine, all earn the same measure of merit. The man who, though possessed of hundred kine, does not establish a domestic fire for daily worship, that man who though possessed of a thousand kine does not perform sacrifices, and that man who though possessed of wealth acts as a miser (by not making gift and discharging the duties of hospitality), are all three regarded as not worthy of any respect. Those men who make gift of Kapila kine with their calves and with vessel of white brass for milking them,--kine, that is, which are not vicious and which while given away, are wrapped round with cloths,--succeed in conquering both this and the other world. Such persons as succeed in making gift of a bull that is still in the prime of youth, that has all its senses strong, and that may be regarded as the foremost one among hundreds of herds, that has large horns adorned with ornaments (of gold or silver), unto a Brahmana possessed of Vedic learning, succeed, O scorcher of foes, in attaining to great prosperity and affluence each time they take birth in the world. One should never go to bed without reciting the names of kine. Nor should one rise from bed in the morning without a similar recitation of the names of kine. Morning and evening one should bend one's head in reverence to kine. As the consequence of such acts, one is sure to attain to great prosperity. One should never feel any repugnance for the urine and the dung of the cow. One should never eat the flesh of kine. As the consequence of this, one is sure to attain to great prosperity. One should always take the names of kine. One should never show any disregard for kine in any way. If evil dreams are seen, men should take the names of kine. One should always bathe, using cow-dung at the time. One should sit on dried cowdung. One should never cast one's urine and excreta and other secretions on cowdung. One should never obstruct kine in any way. One should eat, sitting on a cowhide purified by dipping it in water, and then cast one's eyes towards the west. Sitting with restrained speech, one should eat ghee, using the bare earth as one's dish. One reaps, in consequence of such acts, that prosperity of which kine are the source[375]. One should pour libations on the fire, using ghee for the purpose. One should cause Brahmanas to utter blessings upon one, by presents of ghee. One should make gift of ghee. One should also eat ghee. As the reward of such acts one is sure to attain to that prosperity which kine confer. That man who inspires a vaccine form made of sesame seeds by uttering the Vedic Mantras called by the name of Gomati, and then adorns that form with every kind of gems and makes a gift of it, has never to suffer any grief on account of all his acts of omission and commission,--"Let kine that yield copious measures of milk and that have horns adorned with gold,--kine viz., that are Surabhis or the daughters of Surabhis.--approach me even as rivers approach the ocean! I always look at kine. Let kine always look at me. Kine are ours. We are theirs. Ourselves are there where kine are!"--Even thus, at night or day, in happiness or woe, verily, at times of even great fear,--should a man exclaim. By uttering such words he is certain to become freed from every fear.'"'" SECTION LXXIX "'"Vasishtha said, 'The kine that had been created in a former age practised the austerest penances for a hundred thousand years with the desire of attaining to a position of great pre-eminence. Verily, O scorcher of foes, they said unto themselves,--"We shall, in this world, become the best of all kinds of Dakshina in sacrifices, and we shall not be liable to be stained with any fault! By bathing in water mixed with our dung people shall become sanctified. The deities and men shall use our dung for the purpose of purifying all creatures mobile and immobile. They also that will give us away shall attain to those regions of happiness which will be ours."[376]--The puissant Brahman, appearing unto them at the conclusion of their austerities, gave them the boons they sought, saying,--"it shall be as ye wish! Do ye (thus) rescue all the worlds!"--Crowned with fruition in respect of their wishes, they all rose up,--those mothers of both the Past and the Future. Every morning, people should bow with reverence unto kine. As the consequence of this, they are certain to win prosperity. At the conclusion of their penances O monarch, kine became the refuge of the world. It is for this that kine are said to be highly blessed, sacred, and the foremost of all things. It is for this that kine are said to stay at the very head of all creatures. By giving away a Kapila cow with a calf resembling herself, yielding a copious measure of milk, free from every vicious habit, and covered with a piece of cloth, the giver attains to great honours in the region of Brahma. By giving away a cow of red complexion, with a calf that resembles herself, yielding milk, free from every vice, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of Surya. By giving away a cow of variegated hue, with a calf similar to herself, yielding milk, free from every vice, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of Soma. By giving away a cow of white complexion, with a calf similar to herself, yielding milk, free from every vice, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of Indra. By giving away a cow of dark complexion, with a calf similar to herself, yielding milk, free from every vice, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of Agni. By giving away a cow of the complexion of smoke, with a calf similar to herself, yielding milk, free from every vice, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of Yama. By giving away a cow of the complexion of the foam of water, with a calf and a vessel of white brass for milking her, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to the region of Varuna. By giving away a cow whose complexion is like that of the dust blown by the wind, with a calf, and a vessel of white brass for milking her, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of the Wind-god. By giving a cow of the complexion of gold, having eyes of a tawny hue with a calf and a vessel of white brass for milking her and covered with a piece of cloth, one enjoys the felicity of the region of Kuvera. By giving away a cow of the complexion of the smoke of straw, with a calf and a vessel of white brass for milking her, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to great honours in the region of the Pitris. By giving away a fat cow with the flesh of its throat hanging down and accompanied by her calf, one attains with ease to the high region of the Viswedevas. By giving away a Gouri cow, with calf similar to her, yielding milk, free from every vice, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to the region of the Vasus. By giving away a cow of the complexion of a white blanket, with a calf and a vessel of white brass, and covered with a piece of cloth, one attains to the region of the Sadhyas. By giving away a bull with a high hump and adorned with every jewel, the giver, O king, attains to the region of the Maruts. By giving away a bull of blue complexion, that is full-grown in respect of years and adorned with every ornament, the giver attains to the regions of the Gandharvas and the Apsaras. By giving away a cow with the flesh of her throat hanging down, and adorned with every ornament, the giver, freed from every grief, attains to those regions that belong to Prajapati himself. That man, O king, who habitually makes gifts of kine, proceeds, piercing through the clouds, on a car of solar effulgence to Heaven and shines there in splendour. That man who habitually makes gifts of kine comes to be regarded as the foremost of his species. When thus proceeding to Heaven, he is received by a thousand celestial damsels of beautiful hips and adorned with handsome robes and ornaments. These girls wait upon him there and minister to his delight. He sleeps there in peace and is awakened by the musical laughter of those gazelle-eyed damsels, the sweet notes of their Vinas, the soft strains of their Vallakis, and the melodious tinkle of their Nupuras.[377] The men who makes gifts of kine resides in Heaven and is honoured there for as many years as there are hairs on the bodies of the kine he gives away. Falling off from Heaven (upon the exhaustion of his merit), such a man takes birth in the order of humanity and, in fact, in a superior family among men.'"'" SECTION LXXX "'"Vasishtha said, '"Kine are yielders of ghee and milk. They are the sources of ghee and they have sprung from ghee. They are rivers of ghee, and eddies of ghee. Let kine ever be in my house! Ghee is always my heart. Ghee is even established in my navel. Ghee is in every limb of mine. Ghee resides in my mind. Kine are always at my front. Kine are always at my rear. Kine are on every side of my person. I live in the midst of kine!"--Having purified oneself by touching water, one should, morning and evening, recite these Mantras every day. By this, one is sure to be cleansed of all the sins one may commit in course of the day. They who make gifts of a thousand kine, departing from this world, proceed to the regions of the Gandharvas and the Apsaras where there are many palatial mansions made of gold and where the celestial Ganga, called the current of Vasu, runs. Givers of a thousand kine repair thither where run many rivers having milk for their water, cheese for their mire, and curds for their floating moss. That man who makes gifts of hundreds of thousands of kine agreeably to the ritual laid down in the scriptures, attains to high prosperity (here) and great honours in Heaven. Such a man causes both his paternal and maternal ancestors to the tenth degree to attain to regions of great felicity, and sanctifies his whole race. Kine are sacred. They are the foremost of all things in the world. They are verily the refuge of the universe. They are the mothers of the very deities. They are verily incomparable. They should be dedicated in sacrifices. When making journeys, one should proceed by their right (i.e., keeping them to one's left). Ascertaining the proper time, they should be given away unto eligible persons. By giving away a Kapila cow having large horns, accompanied by a calf and a vessel of white brass for milking her, and covered with a piece of cloth, one succeeds in entering, freed from fear, the palace of Yama that is so difficult to enter. One should always recite this sacred Mantra, viz.,--"Kine are of beautiful form. Kine are of diverse forms. They are of universal form. They are the mothers of the universe. O, let kine approach me!"--There is no gift more sacred than the gift of kine. There is no gift that produces more blessed merit. There has been nothing equal to the cow, nor will there be anything that will equal her. With her skin, her hair, her horns, the hair of her tail, her milk, and her fat,--with all these together,--the cow upholds sacrifice. What thing is there that is more useful than the cow? Bending my head unto her with reverence, I adore the cow who is the mother of both the Past and the Future, and by whom the entire universe of mobile and immobile creatures is covered. O best of men, I have thus recited to thee only a portion of the high merits of kine. There is no gift in this world that is superior to the gift of kine. There is also no refuge in this world that is higher than kine.'" "'Bhishma continued, "That high-souled giver of land (viz., king Saudasa), thinking these words of the Rishi Vasishtha to be foremost in point of importance, then made gifts of a very large number of kine unto the Brahmanas, restraining his senses the while, and as the consequence of those gifts, the monarch succeeded in attaining to many regions of felicity in the next world."'"[378] SECTION LXXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what is that which is the most sacred of all sacred things in the world, other than that which has been already mentioned, and which is the highest of all sanctifying objects." "'Bhishma said, "Kine are the foremost of all objects. They are highly sacred and they rescue men (from all kinds of sin and distress). With their milk and with the Havi manufactured therefrom, kine uphold all creatures in the universe. O best of the Bharatas, there is nothing that is more sacred than kine. The foremost of all things in the three worlds, kine are themselves sacred and capable of cleansing others. Kine reside in a region that is even higher than the region of the deities. When given away, they rescue their givers. Men of wisdom succeed in attaining to Heaven by making gifts of kine. Yuvanaswa's son Mandhatri, Yayati, and (his sire) Nahusha, used always to give away kine in thousands. As the reward of those gifts, they have attained to such regions as are unattainable by the very deities. There is, in this connection, O sinless one, a discourse delivered of old. I shall recite it to thee. Once on a time, the intelligent Suka, having finished his morning rites, approached with a restrained mind his sire, that foremost of Rishis, viz., the Island-born Krishna, who is acquainted with the distinction between that which is superior and that which is inferior, and saluting him, said, 'What is that sacrifice which appears to thee as the foremost of all sacrifices? What is that act by doing which men of wisdom succeed in attaining to the highest region? What is that sacred act by which the deities enjoy the felicity of Heaven? What constitutes the character of sacrifice as sacrifice? What is that upon which sacrifice rests? What is that which is regarded as the best by the deities? What is that sacrifice which transcends the sacrifices of this world? Do thou also tell me, O sire, what is that which is the most sacred of all things.' Having heard these words of his son, O chief of Bharata's race, Vyasa, the foremost of all persons conversant with duties, discoursed as follows unto him. "'"Vyasa said, 'Kine constitute the stay of all creatures. Kine are the refuge of all creatures. Kine are the embodiment of merit. Kine are sacred, and kine are sanctifiers of all. Formerly kine were hornless as it has been heard by us. For obtaining horns they adored the eternal and puissant Brahman. The puissant Brahman, seeing the kine paying their adorations to him and sitting in praya, granted unto each of them what each desired. Thereafter their horns grew and each got what each desired. Of diverse colours, and endued with horns, they began to shine in beauty, O son! Favoured by Brahman himself with boons, kine are auspicious and yielders of Havya and Kavya. They are the embodiments of merit. They are sacred and blessed. They are possessed of excellent form and attributes. Kine constitute high and highly excellent energy. The gift of kine is very much applauded. Those good men who, freed from pride, make gifts of kine, are regarded as doers of righteous deeds and as givers of all articles. Such men, O sinless one, attain to the highly sacred region of kine. The trees there produce sweet fruits. Indeed, those trees are always adorned with excellent flowers and fruits. Those flowers, O best of regenerate persons, are endued with celestial fragrance. The entire soil of that region is made of gems. The sands there are all gold. The climate there is such that the excellencies of every season are felt. There is no more mire, no dust. It is, indeed, highly auspicious. The streams that run there shine in resplendence for the red lotuses blooming upon their bosoms, and for the jewels and gems and gold that occur in their banks and that display the effulgence of the morning Sun. There are many lakes also in that region on whose breasts are many lotuses, mixed here and there with Nymphoea stellata, and having their petals made of costly gems, and their filaments adorned with a complexion like that of gold. They are also adorned with flowering forests of the Nerium odorum with thousands of beautiful creepers twining round them, as also with forests of Santanakas bearing their flowery burdens. There are rivers whose banks are variegated with many bright pearls and resplendent gems and shining gold. Portions of those regions are covered with excellent trees that are decked with jewels and gems of every kind. Some of them are made of gold and some display the splendour of fire. There stand many mountains made of gold, and many hills and eminences made of jewels and gems. These shine in beauty in consequence of their tall summits which are composed of all kinds of gems. The trees that adorn those regions always put forth flowers and fruits, and are always covered with dense foliage. The flowers always emit a celestial fragrance and the fruits are exceedingly sweet, O chief of Bharata's race. Those persons that are of righteous deeds, O Yudhishthira, always sport there in joy. Freed from grief and wrath, they pass their time there, crowned with the fruition of every wish. Persons of righteous deeds, possessed of fame, sport there in happiness, moving from place to place, O Bharata, on delightful vehicles of great beauty. Auspicious bands of Apsaras always amuse them there, with music and dance. Indeed O Yudhishthira, a person goes to such regions as the reward of his making gifts of kine. Those regions which have for their lords Pushan, and the Maruts of great puissance, are attained to by givers of kine. In affluence the royal Varuna is regarded as pre-eminent. The giver of kine attains to affluence like that of Varuna himself. One should, with the steadiness of a vow, daily recite these Mantras declared by Prajapati himself (in respect of kine). Viswarupa and viz.,--Yugandharah, Surupah, Vahurupah, and Matara.[379]--He who serves kine with reverence and who follows them with humility, succeeds in obtaining many invaluable boons from kine who become gratified with him. One should never, in even one's heart, do an injury to kine. One should, indeed, always confer happiness on them. One should always reverence kine and worship them, with bends of one's head. He who does this, restraining his senses the while and filled with cheerfulness, succeeds in attaining to that felicity which is enjoyed by kine (and which kine alone can confer). One should for three days drink the hot urine of the cow. For the next three days one should drink the hot milk of the cow. Having thus drunk for three days hot milk, one should next drink hot ghee for three days. Having in this way drunk hot ghee for three days, one should subsist for the next three days on air only. That sacred thing by whose aid the deities enjoy regions of felicity, that which is the most sacred of all sacred things, viz., ghee should then be borne on the head.[380] With the aid of ghee one should pour libations on the sacred fire. By making gifts of ghee, one should cause the Brahmana to utter benedictions on oneself. One should eat ghee and make gifts of ghee. As the reward of this conduct, one may then attain to that prosperity which belongs to kine. That man who, for a month, subsists upon the gruel of barley picked up every day from cow dung becomes cleansed of sins as grave as the slaughter of a Brahmana. After their defeat at the hands of the Daityas, the deities practised this expiation. It was in consequence of this expiation that they succeeded in regaining their position as deities. Verily, it was through this that they regained their strength and became crowned with success. Kine are sacred. They are embodiments of merit. They are high and most efficacious cleansers of all. By making gifts of kine unto the Brahmanas one attains to Heaven. Living in a pure state, in the midst of kine, one should mentally recite those sacred Mantras that are known by the name of Gomati, after touching pure water. By doing this, one becomes purified and cleansed (of all sins). Brahmanas of righteous deeds, who have been cleansed by knowledge, study of the Vedas, and observance of vows, should, only in the midst of sacred fires or kine or assemblies of Brahmanas, impart unto their disciples a knowledge of the Gomati Mantras which are every way like unto a sacrifice (for the merit they produce). One should observe a fast for three nights for receiving the boon constituted by a knowledge of the import of the Gomati Mantras. The man who is desirous of obtaining a son may obtain one by adoring these Mantras. He who desires the possession of wealth may have his desire gratified by adoring these Mantras. The girl desirous of having a good husband may have her wish fulfilled by the same means. In fact, one may acquire the fruition of every wish one may cherish, by adoring these sacred Mantras. When kine are gratified with the service one renders them, they are, without doubt, capable of granting the fruition of every wish. Even so, kine are highly blessed. They are the essential requisites of sacrifices. They are grantors of every wish. Know that there is nothing superior to kine.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by his high-souled sire, Suka, endued with great energy, began from that time to worship kine every day. Do thou also, O son, conduct thyself in the same way."'" SECTION LXXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "I have heard that the dung of the cow is endued with Sree. I desire to hear how this has been brought about. I have doubts, O grandsire, which thou shouldst dispel."[381] "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story, O monarch, of the conversation between kine and Sree, O best of the Bharatas! Once on a time the goddess Sree, assuming a very beautiful form, entered a herd of kine. The kine, beholding her wealth of beauty, became filled with wonder. "'"The kine said, 'Who art thou, O goddess? Whence hast thou become unrivalled on earth for beauty? O highly blessed goddess, we have been filled with wonder at thy wealth of beauty. We desire to know who thou art. Who, indeed, art thou? Whither wilt thou proceed? O thou of very superior splendour of complexion, do tell us in detail all we wish to know.' "'"Sri said, 'Blessed be ye, I am dear unto all creatures. Indeed, I am known by the name of Sri. Forsaken by me, the Daityas have been lost for ever. The deities, viz., Indra, Vivaswat, Soma, Vishnu, Varuna, and Agni, having obtained me, are sporting in joy and will do so for ever. Verily, the Rishis and the deities, only when they are endued with me, have success. Ye kine, those beings meet with destruction into whom I do not enter. Religion, wealth, and pleasure, only when endued with me, become sources of happiness. Ye kine who are givers of happiness, know that I am possessed of even such energy! I wish to always reside in every one of you. Repairing to your presence, I solicit you. Be all of you endued with Sri.' "'"The kine said, 'Thou art fickle and restless. Thou sufferest thyself to be enjoyed by many persons. We do not desire to have thee. Blessed be thou, go wheresoever thou pleasest. As regards ourselves, all of us are possessed of good forms. What need have we with thee? Go wheresoever thou likest. Thou hast already (by answering our questions) gratified us exceedingly.' "'"Sri said, 'Is it proper with you, ye kine that you do not welcome me? I am difficult of being attained. Why then do you not accept me? It seems, ye creatures of excellent vows, that the popular proverb is true, viz., that it is certain that when one come to another of one's own accord and without being sought, one meets with disregard. The Gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Pisachas, the Uragas, the Rakshasas and human beings succeed in obtaining me only after undergoing the severest austerities. You who have such energy, do ye take me. Ye amiable ones, I am never disregarded by any one in the three worlds of mobile and immobile creatures.' "'"The kine said, 'We do not disregard thee, O goddess. We do not show thee a slight! Thou art fickle and of a very restless heart. It is for this only that we take leave of thee. What need of much talk? Do thou go wheresoever thou choosest. All of us are endued with excellent forms. What need have we with thee, O sinless one?' "'"Sri said, 'Ye givers of honours, cast off by you in this way, I shall certainly be an object of disregard with all the world. Do ye show me grace. Ye are all highly blessed. Ye are ever ready to grant protection unto those that seek your protection. I have come to you soliciting your protection. I have no fault. Do you rescue me (from this situation). Know that I shall always be devoted to you. I am desirous of residing in any parts, however repulsive, of your bodies. Indeed, I wish to reside in even your rectum. Ye sinless ones, I do not see that ye have any part in your bodies that may be regarded as repulsive, for ye are sacred, and sanctifying, and highly blessed. Do ye, however, grant my prayer. Do ye tell me in which part, of your bodies I shall take up my residence.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Sri, the kine, always auspicious and inclined to kindness unto all who are devoted to them, took counsel with one another, and then addressing Sri, and unto her, O king, these words. "'"The kine said, 'O thou of great fame, it is certainly desirable that we should honour thee. Do thou live in our urine and dung. Both these are sacred, O auspicious goddess!' "'"Sri said, 'By good luck, ye have shown me much grace implying your desire to favour me. Let it be even as ye say! Blessed be ye all, I have really been honoured by you, ye givers of happiness!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having, O Bharata, made this compact with the kine, Sri, there and then, in the very sight of those kine, rendered herself invisible. I have thus told thee, O son, the glory of the dung of kine. I shall once again discourse to thee on the glory of kine. Do thou listen to me."'" SECTION LXXXIII "'Bhishma said, "They who make gifts of kine, and who subsist upon the remnants of things offered as libations on the sacred fire, are regarded, O Yudhishthira, as always performing sacrifices of every kind. No sacrifice can be performed without the aid of curds and ghee. The very character as sacrifice which sacrifices have, depends upon ghee. Hence ghee (or, the cow from which it is produced) is regarded as the very root of sacrifice. Of all kinds of gifts, the gift of kine is applauded as the highest. Kine are the foremost of all things. Themselves sacred, they are the best of cleansers and sanctifiers. People should cherish kine for obtaining prosperity and even peace. The milk, curds, and ghee that kine yield are capable of cleansing one from every kind of sin. Kine are said to represent the highest energy both in this world and the world that is above. There is nothing that is more sacred or sanctifying than kine, O chief of Bharata's race. In this connection is recited the ancient narrative, O Yudhishthira, of the discourse between the Grandsire and the chief of celestials. After the Daityas had been defeated and Sakra had become the lord of the three worlds all creatures grew in prosperity and became devoted to the true religion. Then, on one occasion, the Rishis, the Gandharvas, the Kinnaras, the Uragas, the Rakshasas, the Deities, the Asuras, the winged creatures and the Prajapatis, O thou of Kuru's race, all assembled together and adored the Grandsire. There were Narada and Parvata and Viswavasu and Haha-Huhu, who sang in celestial strains for adoring that puissant lord of all creatures. The deity of wind bore thither the fragrance of celestial flowers. The Seasons also, in their embodied forms, bore the perfumes of flowers peculiar to each, unto that conclave of celestials, that gathering of all creatures of the universe, where celestial maidens danced and sang in accompaniment with celestial music. In the midst of that assembly, Indra, saluting the Lord of all the deities and bowing his head unto him with reverence, asked him, saying, 'I desire, O Grandsire, to know why the region of kine is higher, O holy one, than the region of the deities themselves who are the lords of all the worlds. What austerities, what Brahmacharya, O lord, did kine perform in consequence of which they are able to reside happily in a region that is even above that of the deities?' Thus addressed by Indra, Brahman said unto the slayer of Vala, 'Thou hast always, O slayer of Vala, disregarded kine. Hence, thou art not acquainted with the glorious pre-eminence of kine. Listen now to me, O puissant one, as I explain to thee the high energy and glorious pre-eminence of kine, O chief of the celestials! Kine have been said to be the limbs of sacrifice. They represent sacrifice itself, O Vasava! Without them, there can be no sacrifice. With their milk and the Havi produced therefrom, they uphold all creatures. Their male calves are engaged in assisting at tillage and thereby produce diverse kinds of paddy and other seeds. From them flow sacrifices and Havya and Kavya, and milk and curds and ghee. Hence, O chief of the deities, kine are sacred. Afflicted by hunger and thirst, they bear diverse burdens. Kine support the Munis. They uphold all creatures by diverse acts. O Vasava, kine are guileless in their behaviour. In consequence of such behaviour and of many well-performed acts, they are enabled to live always in regions that are even above ours. I have thus explained to thee today, O thou of a hundred sacrifices, the reason, O Sakra of kine residing in a place that is high above that of the deities. Kine obtained many excellent forms, O Vasava, and are themselves givers of boons (to others). They are called Surabhis. Of sacred deeds and endued with many auspicious indications, they are highly sanctifying. Listen to me also, O slayer of Vala, as I tell thee in detail the reason why kine,--the offspring of Surabhi,--have descended on the earth, O best of the deities. In day of yore, O son, when in the Devayuga the high souled Danavas became lords of the three worlds, Aditi underwent the severest austerities and got Vishnu within her womb (as the reward thereof). Verily, O chief of the celestials, she had stood upon one leg for many long years, desirous of having a son.[382] Beholding the great goddess Aditi thus undergoing the severest austerities, the daughter of Daksha, viz., the illustrious Surabhi, herself devoted to righteousness, similarly underwent very severe austerities upon the breast of the delightful mountains of Kailasa that are resorted to by both the deities and the Gandharvas. Established on the highest Yoga she also stood upon one leg for eleven thousand years. The deities with the Rishis and the great Nagas all became scorched with the severity of her penances. Repairing thither with me, all of them began to adore that auspicious goddess. I then addressed that goddess endued with penances and said, "O goddess, O thou of faultless conduct, for what purpose, dost thou undergo such severe austerities. O highly blessed one, I am gratified with thy penances, O beautiful one! Do thou, O goddess, solicit what boon thou desirest. I shall grant thee whatever thou mayst ask." Even these were my words unto her, O Purandara. Thus addressed by me, Surabhi answered me, saying, "I have no need, O Grandsire, of boons. Even this, O sinless one, is a great boon to me that thou hast been gratified with me." Unto the illustrious Surabhi, O chief of the celestials who said so unto me, O lord of Sachi, I answered even in these words, O foremost of the deities, viz., "O goddess, at this exhibition of thy freedom from cupidity and desire and at these penances of thine, O thou of beautiful face, I have been exceedingly gratified. I, therefore, grant thee the boon of immortality. Thou shalt dwell in a region that is higher than the three worlds, through my grace. That region shall be known to all by the name of Goloka. Thy offspring, ever engaged in doing good acts, will reside in the world of men. In fact, O highly blessed one, thy daughters will reside there. All kinds of enjoyment, celestial and human, that thou mayst think of, will immediately be thine. Whatever happiness exists in Heaven, will also be thine, O blessed one." The regions, O thou of a hundred eyes, that are Surabhi's are endued with means for the gratification of every wish. Neither Death, nor Decrepitude, nor fire, can overcome its denizens. No ill luck, O Vasava, exists there. Many delightful woods, and delightful ornaments and objects of beauty may be seen there. There many beautiful cars, all excellently equipped, which move at the will of the rider, may be seen, O Vasava. O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, it is only by Brahmacharya, by penances, by Truth, by self-restraint, by gifts, by diverse kinds of righteous deeds, by sojourns to sacred waters, in fact, by severe austerities and righteous acts well-performed, that one can attain to Goloka. Thou hast asked me, O Sakra, and I have answered thee in full. O slayer of Asuras, thou shouldst never disregard kine.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having heard these words of the self-born Brahman, O Yudhishthira, Sakra of a thousand eyes began from that time to worship kine every day and to show them the greatest respect. I have thus told thee everything about the sanctifying character of kine, O thou of great splendour. The sacred and high pre-eminence and glory of kine, that is capable of cleansing one from every sin, has, O chief of men, been thus explained to thee. That man who with senses withdrawn from every other object will recite this account unto Brahmanas, on occasions when Havya and Kavya are offered, or at sacrifices, or on occasions of adoring the Pitris, succeeds in conferring upon his ancestors an inexhaustible felicity fraught with the fruition of every wish. That man who is devoted to kine succeeds in obtaining the fruition of every wish of his. Indeed, even those women that are devoted to kine succeed in obtaining the accomplishment of every wish of theirs. He that desireth sons obtaineth them. He that desireth daughters obtaineth them. He that desireth wealth succeedeth in acquiring it and he that desireth religious merit succeedeth in winning it. He that desireth knowledge acquireth it and he that desireth felicity succeedeth in acquiring it. Indeed, O Bharata, there is nothing that is unattainable to one that is devoted to kine."'" SECTION LXXXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O grandsire, discoursed to me on the gift of kine that is fraught with great merit. In the case of kings observant of their duties, that gift is most meritorious. Sovereignty is always painful. It is incapable of being borne by persons of uncleansed souls. In the generality of cases, kings fail to attain to auspicious ends. By always making, however, gifts of earth, they succeed in cleansing themselves (of all their sins). Thou hast, O prince of Kuru's race, discoursed to me on many duties. Thou hast discoursed to me on the gifts of kine made by king Nriga in days of old. The Rishi Nachiketa, in ancient times, had discoursed on the merits of this act. The Vedas and the Upanishads also have laid down that in all sacrifices,--in fact, in all kinds of religious acts,--the Dakshina should be earth or kine or gold. The Srutis, however, declare that in all Dakshinas, gold is superior and is, indeed, the best. I desire, O grandsire, to hear thee discourse truly on this topic. What is gold? How did it spring up? When did it come into existence? What is its essence? Who is its presiding deity? What are its fruits? Why is it regarded as the foremost of all things? For what reason do men of wisdom applaud the gift of gold? For what reason is gold regarded as the best Dakshinas in all sacrifices? Why also is gold regarded as a cleanser superior to earth itself and kine? Why, indeed, is it regarded so superior as a Dakshina? Do thou, O grandsire, discourse to me on all this!" "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, with concentrated attention to me as I recite to thee in detail the circumstances connected with the origin of gold as understood by me. When my father Santanu of great energy departed from this world, I proceeded to Gangadwara for performing his Sraddha. Arrived there, I commenced the Sraddha of my father. My mother Jahnavi, coming there, rendered me great help. Inviting many ascetics crowned with success and causing them to take their seats before me, I commenced the preliminary rites consisting of gifts of water and of other things. Having with a concentrated mind performed all preliminary rites as laid down in the scriptures, I set myself to duly offer the obsequial cake. I then saw, O king, that a handsome arm, adorned with Angadas and other ornaments, rose up, piercing the ground, through the blades of Kusa grass which I had spread. Beholding that arm rise from the ground, I became filled with wonder. Indeed, O chief of Bharata's race, I thought that my father had come himself for accepting the cake I was about to offer. Reflecting then, by the light of the scriptures, the conviction soon came upon me that the ordinance does occur in the Vedas that the cake should not be presented into the hand of him whose Sraddha is performed. Even this was the conviction that took possession of my mind, viz., that the obsequial cake should never be presented in this world by a man into the visible hand of the man whose obsequial rites are performed. The Pitris do not come in their visible forms for taking the cake. On the other hand, the ordinance provides that it should be presented on the blades of Kusa grass spread on the earth for the purpose. I then, disregarding that hand which constituted an indication of my father's presence, and recollecting the true ordinance depending upon the authority of the scriptures respecting the mode of presenting the cake, offered the entire cake, O chief of the Bharatas, upon those blades of Kusa grass that were spread before me. Know, O prince of men, that what I did was perfectly consistent with the scriptural ordinance. After this, the arm of my sire, O monarch, vanished in our very sight. On that night as I slept, the Pitris appeared to me in a dream. Gratified with me they said, O chief of Bharata's race, even these words, 'We have been pleased with thee, for the indication thou hast afforded today of thy adherence to the ordinance. It has pleased us to see that thou hast not swerved from the injunctions of the scriptures. The scriptural ordinance, having been followed by thee, has become more authoritative, O king. By such conduct thou hast honoured and maintained the authority of thyself, the scriptures, the auditions of the Vedas, the Pitris and the Rishis, the Grandsire Brahman himself, and those seniors, viz., the Prajapatis. Adherence to the scriptures has been maintained. Thou hast today, O chief of the Bharatas, acted very properly. Thou hast made gifts of earth and kine. Do thou make gifts of gold. The gifts of gold is very cleansing. O thou that art well-conversant with duties, know that by such acts of thine, both ourselves and our forefathers will all be cleansed of all our sins. Such gifts rescue both ancestors and descendants to the tenth degree of the person who makes them.' Even these were the words that my ancestors, appearing unto me in a dream, said unto me. I then awoke, O king, and became filled with wonder. Indeed, O chief of Bharata's race, I set my heart then upon making gifts of gold. Listen now, monarch, to this old history. It is highly praiseworthy and it extends the period of his life who listens to it. It was first recited to Rama, the son of Jamadagni. In former days Jamadagni's son Rama, filled with great wrath, exterminated the Kshatriyas from off the face of the earth for thrice seven times. Having subjugated the entire earth the heroic Rama of eyes like lotus-petals began to make preparations for performing a Horse-sacrifice, O king, that is praised by all Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and that is capable of granting the fruition of every wish. That sacrifice cleanses all creatures and enhances the energy and splendour of those who succeed in performing it. Endued with great energy, Rama, by the performance of that sacrifice became purified. Having, however, performed that foremost of sacrifices, the high-souled Rama failed yet to attain to perfect lightness of heart. Repairing unto Rishis conversant with every branch of learning as also the deities, Rama of Bhrigu's race questioned them. Filled with repentance and compassion, he addressed them, saying, 'Ye highly blessed ones, do ye declare that which is more cleansing still for men engaged in fierce deeds.' Thus addressed by him, those great Rishis, fully acquainted with the Vedas and the scriptures, answered him, saying, 'O Rama, guided by the authority of the Vedas, do thou honour all learned Brahmanas. Following this conduct for some time do thou once more ask the regenerate Rishis as to what should be done by thee for cleansing thyself. Follow the advice which those persons of great wisdom give.' Repairing then to Vasishtha and Agastya and Kasyapa, that delighter of the Bhrigus, endued with great energy, asked them that question, 'Ye foremost of Brahmanas, even this is the wish that has arisen in my heart. How, indeed, may I succeed in cleansing myself? By what acts and rites may this be brought about? Or, if by gifts, what is that article by giving away which this wish of mine may be accomplished? Ye foremost of righteous persons, if your minds be inclined to do me a favour, then do tell me, ye that are endued with wealth of asceticism, what is that by which I may succeed in cleansing myself.' "'"The Rishis said, 'O delighter of the Bhrigus, the mortal that has sinned becomes cleansed by making gifts of kine, of earth, and of wealth. Even this is what we have heard. There is another gift that is regarded as a great cleanser. Listen to us, O regenerate Rishi, as we discourse on it. That article is excellent and is endued with wonderful aspect and is, besides, the offspring of Fire. In days of yore, the god Agni burnt all the world. It has been heard by us that from his seed sprung gold of bright complexion. It came to be celebrated under the name of good complexioned. By making gifts of gold thou art sure to have thy wish crowned with fruition.' Then the illustrious Vasishtha in especial, of rigid vows, addressing him, said, 'Hear, O Rama, how gold, which has the splendour of fire sprang into existence. That gold will confer merit on thee. In matters of gifts, gold is highly applauded. I shall also tell thee what is gold, whence it has come, and how it has come to be invested with superior attributes. Listen to me, O thou of mighty arms, as I discourse upon these topics. Know this as certain that gold is of the essence of Fire and Soma. The goat is Fire (for if given, it leads to the region of the deity of fire); the sheep is Varuna (for it leads to the region of Varuna the lord of waters); the horse is Surya (for it leads to the region of Surya); elephants are Nagas (for they lead to the world of Nagas); buffaloes are Asuras (for they lead to the region of Asuras); cocks and boars are Rakshasas (for they lead to the regions of the Rakshasas), O delighter of the Bhrigus; earth is sacrifice, kine, water, and Soma (for it leads to the merits of sacrifice, and to the region of kine, of the lord of waters and of Soma). Even these are the declarations of the Smritis. Churning the entire universe, a mass of energy was found. That energy is gold. Hence, O regenerate Rishi, compared to all these objects (which I have named above) gold is certainly superior. It is a precious thing, high and excellent.[383] It is for this reason that the deities and Gandharvas and Uragas and Rakshasas and human beings and Pisachas hold it with care. All these beings, O son of Bhrigu's race, shine in splendour, with the aid of gold, after converting it into crowns and armlets and diverse kinds of ornaments. It is also for this reason that gold is regarded as the most cleansing of all cleansing things such as earth and kine and all other kinds of wealth, O prince of men. The gift of gold, O puissant king, is the highest gift. It is distinguished above the gifts of earth, of kine, and of all other things. O thou that art endued with the effulgence of an immortal, gold is an eternal cleanser. Do thou make gifts of it unto the foremost of Brahmanas as it is the foremost of cleansing things. Of all kinds of Dakshina, gold is the best. They who make gifts of gold are said to be givers of all things. Indeed, they who make gifts of gold come to be regarded as givers of deities. Agni is all the deities in one, and gold has Agni for its essence. Hence it is that the person who makes gifts of gold gives away all the deities. Hence, O chief of men, there is no gift higher than the gift of gold.' "'"Vasishtha continued, 'Hear once more, O regenerate Rishi, as I discourse upon it, the pre-eminence of gold, O foremost of all wielders of weapons. I heard this formerly in the Purana, O son of Bhrigu's race. I represent the speech of Prajapati himself. After the wedding was over of the illustrious and high-souled Rudra armed with the trident, O son of Bhrigu's race, with the goddess who became his spouse, on the breast of that foremost of mountains, viz., Himavat, the illustrious and high-souled deity wished to unite himself with the goddess. Thereupon all the deities, penetrated with anxiety, approached Rudra. Bending their heads with reverence and gratifying Mahadeva and his boon giving spouse Uma, both of whom were seated together, they addressed Rudra, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, saying, "This union, O illustrious and sinless one, of thine with the goddess, is a union of one endued with penances with another of penances as severe! Verily, it is the union, O lord, of one possessed of very great energy with another whose energy is scarcely less! Thou, O illustrious one, art of energy that is irresistible. The goddess Uma, also is possessed of energy that is equally irresistible. The offspring that will result from a union like this, will, without doubt, O illustrious deity, be endued with very great might. Verily, O puissant lord, that offspring will consume all things in the three worlds without leaving a remnant. Do thou then, O lord of all the universe, O thou of large eyes, grant unto these deities prostrated before thee, a boon from desire of benefiting the three worlds! Do thou, O puissant one, restrain this high energy of thine which may become the seed of offspring. Verily, that energy is the essence of all forces in the three worlds. Ye two, by an act of congress, are sure to scorch the universe! The offspring that will be born of you two will certainly be able to afflict the deities! Neither the goddess Earth, nor the Firmament, nor Heaven, O puissant one, nor all of them together, will be able to bear thy energy, we firmly believe. The entire universe is certain to be burnt through the force of thy energy. It behoveth thee, O puissant one, to show us favour, O illustrious deity. That favour consists in thy not begetting a son, O foremost of the deities, upon the goddess Uma. Do thou, with patience, restrain thy fiery and puissant energy!" Unto the deities that said so the holy Mahadeva having the bull for his sign, O regenerate Rishi, answered, saying, "So be it!" Having said so, the deity that has the bull for his vehicle, drew up his vital seed. From that time he came to be called by the name of Urdhvaretas (one that has drawn up the vital seed). The spouse of Rudra, however, at this endeavour of the deities to stop procreation, became highly incensed. In consequence of her being of the opposite sex (and, therefore, endued with little control upon her temper) she used harsh words, thus, "Since ye have opposed my lord in the matter of procreating a child when he was desirous of procreating one upon me, as the consequence of this act, ye deities, ye all shall become sonless. Verily, since ye have opposed the birth of issue from me, therefore, ye shall have no offspring of your own." At the time this curse was denounced, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, the deity of fire was not there. It is in consequence of this curse of the goddess that the deities have become childless. Rudra, solicited by them, held in himself his energy of incomparable puissance. A small quantity, however, that came out of his body fell down on the earth. That seed, falling on the earth, leaped into a blazing fire and there began to grow (in size and power) most wonderfully. The energy of Rudra, coming in contact with another energy of great puissance, became identified with it in respect of essence. Meanwhile, all the deities having Sakra at their head, were scorched a good deal by the Asura named Taraka. The Adityas, the Vasus, the Rudras, the Maruts, the Aswins, and the Sadhyas all became exceedingly afflicted in consequence of the prowess of that son of Diti. All the regions of the deities, their beautiful cars, and their palatial mansions, and the retreats of the Rishis, were snatched away by the Asuras. Then the deities and the Rishis, with cheerless hearts, sought the protection of the illustrious and puissant Brahman of unfading glory.'"'" SECTION LXXXV "'"'The Deities said, "The Asura named Taraka who has received boons from thee, O puissant one, is afflicting the deities and the Rishis. Let his death be ordained by thee. O Grandsire, great has been our fear from him. O illustrious one, do thou rescue us. We have no other refuge than thee." "'"'Brahman said, "I am equal in my behaviour towards all creatures. I cannot, however, approve of unrighteousness. Let Taraka, that opponent of the deities and Rishis, be quickly destroyed. The Vedas and the eternal duties shall not be exterminated, ye foremost of celestials! I have ordained what is proper in this matter. Let the fever of your hearts be dispelled." "'"'The Deities said, "In consequence of thy having granted him boons, that son of Diti has been proud of his might. He is incapable of being slain, by the deities. How then will his death be brought about? The boon which, O Grandsire, he has obtained from thee is that he should not be slayable by deities or Asuras or Rakshasas. The deities have also been cursed by the spouse of Rudra in consequence of their endeavour in former days to stop propagation. The curse denounced by her has been, O lord of the universe, even this, viz., that they are not to have any offspring." "'"'Brahman said, "Ye foremost of deities, Agni was not there at the time the curse was denounced by the goddess. Even he will beget a son for the destruction of the enemies of the gods. Transcending all the deities and Danavas and Rakshasas and human beings and Gandharvas and Nagas and feathery creatures, the offspring of Agni with his dart, which in his hands will be a weapon incapable of being baffled if once hurled at the foe, will destroy Taraka from whom your fear hath arisen. Verily, all other enemies of yours will also be slain by him. Will is eternal. That Will is known by the name of Kama and is identical with Rudra's seed a portion of which fell into the blazing form of Agni. That energy, which is a mighty substance, and which resembles a second Agni, will be cast by Agni into Ganga for producing a child upon her in order to effect the destruction of the enemies of the gods. Agni did not come within the range of Uma's curse. The eater of sacrificial libations was not present there when the curse was denounced. Let the deity of fire, therefore, be searched out. Let him now be set to this task. Ye sinless ones, I have told you what the means are for the destruction of Taraka. The curses of those that are endued with energy fail to produce any effect upon those that are endued with energy. Forces, when they come into contact with something that is endued with stronger force, become weakened. They that are endued with penances are competent to destroy even the boon-giving deities who are indestructible. Will, or Like, or Desire (which is identifiable with Agni) sprang in former times and is the most eternal of all creatures. Agni is the Lord of the universe. He is incapable of being apprehended or described. Capable of going everywhere and existing in all things, he is the Creator of all beings. He lives in the hearts of all creatures. Endued with great puissance, He is older than Rudra himself. Let that eater of sacrificial libations, who is a mass of energy, be searched out. That illustrious deity will accomplish this desire of your hearts." Hearing these words of the Grandsire, the high-souled gods then proceeded to search out the god of fire with hearts cheerful in consequence of their purpose having been achieved. The gods and the Rishis then searched every part of the three worlds, their hearts filled with the thought of Agni and eagerly desiring to obtain a sight of him. Endued with penances, possessed of prosperity, celebrated over all the worlds, those high-souled ones, all crowned with ascetic success, sojourned over every part of the universe, O foremost one of Bhrigu's race. They failed, however, to find out the eater of sacrificial libations who had concealed himself by merging his self into self.[384] About this time, a frog, living in water, appeared on the surface thereof from the nethermost regions, with cheerless heart in consequence of having been scorched by the energy of Agni. The little creature addressed the deities who had become penetrated with fear and who were all very eager to obtain a sight of the deity of fire, saying, "Ye gods, Agni is now residing in the nethermost regions. Scorched by the energy of that deity, and unable to bear it longer, I have come hither. The illustrious bearer of sacrificial libations, ye gods, is now under the waters. He has created a mass of waters within which he is staying. All of us have been scorched by his energy. If, ye gods, ye desire to obtain a sight of him,--verily, if ye have any business with him,--do ye go to him thither. Do, indeed, repair thither. As regards ourselves, we shall fly from this place, ye deities, from fear of Agni." Having said this much, the frog dived into the water. The eater of sacrificial libations learnt of the treachery of the frog. Coming to that animal, he cursed the whole batrachian race, saying, "Ye shall henceforth be deprived of the organ of taste." Having denounced this curse on the frog, he left the spot speedily for taking up his abode elsewhere. Verily, the puissant deity did not show himself. Seeing the plight to which the frogs were reduced for having done them a service, the deities, O best of the Bhrigus, showed favour unto those creatures. I shall tell thee everything regarding it. Do thou listen to me, O mighty-armed hero. "'"'The Deities said, "Though deprived of tongues through the curse of Agni and, therefore, reft of the sensation of taste, ye shall yet be able to utter diverse kinds of speech. Living within holes, deprived of food, reft of consciousness, wasted and dried up, and more dead than alive, all of you will be held by the Earth nevertheless. Ye shall also be able to wander about at night-time when everything is enveloped in thick darkness." Having said this unto the frogs, the deities once more went over every part of the earth for finding out the deity of blazing flames. In spite of all their efforts, however, they failed to get at him. Then, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, an elephant, as large and mighty as the elephant of Sakra, addressed the gods, saying, "Agni is now residing within this Aswattha tree!" Incensed with wrath, Agni cursed all the elephants, O descendant of Bhrigu saying, "Your tongues will be bent back." Having been pointed out by the elephants, the deity of fire cursed all elephants even thus and then went away and entered the heart of the Sami tree from the desire of residing within it for some time. Listen now, O puissant hero, what favour was shown unto the elephants, O foremost one of Bhrigu's race, by the deities of unbaffled prowess who were all gratified with the service a representative of their had done them. "'"'The Deities said, "With the aid of even your tongues bent inwards ye shall be able to eat all things, and with even those tongues ye shall be able to utter cries that will only be indistinct." Having blessed the elephants in this way, the denizens of Heaven once more resumed their search after Agni. Indeed, having issued out of the Aswattha tree, the deity of fire had entered the heart of Sami. This new abode of Agni was divulged by a parrot. The gods thereupon proceeded to the spot. Enraged with the conduct of the parrot, the deity of blazing flames cursed the whole parrot race, saying, "Ye shall from this day be deprived of the power of speech." Indeed, the eater of sacrificial libations turned up the tongues of all the parrots. Beholding Agni at the place pointed out by the parrot, and witnessing the curse denounced upon him, the gods, feeling a compassion for the poor creature, blessed him, saying, "In consequence of thy being a parrot, thou shalt not be wholly deprived of the power of speech. Though thy tongue has been turned backwards, yet speech thou shalt have, confined to the letter K. Like that of a child or an old man, thy speech shall be sweet and indistinct and wonderful." Having said these words unto the parrot, and beholding the deity of fire within the heart of the Sami, the gods made Sami wood a sacred fuel fit for producing fire in all religious rites. It was from that time that fire is seen to reside in the heart of the Sami. Men came to regard the Sami as proper means for producing fire (in sacrifice).[385] The waters that occur in the nethermost regions had come into contact with the deity of blazing flames. Those heated waters, O thou of Bhrigu's race, are vomited forth by the mountain springs. In consequence, indeed, of Agni having resided in them for some time, they became hot through his energy. Meanwhile, Agni, beholding the gods, became grieved. Addressing the deities, he asked them, "What is the reason of your presence here?" Unto him the deities and the great Rishi said, "We wish to set thee to a particular task. It behoveth thee to accomplish it. When accomplished, it will redound greatly to thy credit." "'"'Agni said, "Tell me what your business is. I shall, ye gods, accomplish it. I am always willing to be set by you to any task you wish. Do not scruple, therefore, to command me." "'"'The Deities said, "There is an Asura of the name of Taraka who has been filled with pride in consequence of the boon he has obtained from Brahman. Through his energy he is able to oppose and discomfit us. Do thou ordain his destruction. O sire, do thou rescue these deities, these Prajapatis, and these Rishis, O highly blessed Pavaka! O puissant one, do thou beget a heroic son possessed of thy energy, who will dispel, O bearer of sacrificial libations, our fears from that Asura. We have been cursed by the great goddess Uma. There is nothing else than thy energy which can be our refuge now. Do thou, therefore, O puissant deity, rescue us all." Thus addressed, the illustrious and irresistible bearer of sacrificial libations answered, saying, "Be it so", and he than proceeded towards Ganga otherwise called Bhagirathi. He united himself in (spiritual) congress with her and caused her to conceive. Verily, in the womb of Ganga the seed of Agni began to grow even as Agni himself grows (when supplied with fuel and aided by the wind). With the energy of that god, Ganga became exceedingly agitated at heart. Indeed, she suffered great distress and became unable to bear it. When the deity of blazing flames cast his seed endued with great energy into the womb of Ganga, a certain Asura (bent on purposes of his own) uttered a frightful roar. In consequence of that frightful roar uttered by the Asura for purposes of his own (and not for terrifying her), Ganga became very much terrified and her eyes rolled in fear and betrayed her agitation. Deprived of consciousness, she became unable to bear her body and the seed within her womb. The daughter of Jahnu, inseminated with the energy of the illustrious deity, began to tremble. Overwhelmed with the energy of the seed she held in her womb, O learned Brahmana, she then addressed the deity of blazing fire, saying, "I am no longer capable, O illustrious one, of bearing thy seed in my womb. Verily, I am overcome with weakness by this seed of thine. The health I had in days before is no longer mine. I have been exceedingly agitated, O illustrious one, and my heart is dead within me, O sinless one. O foremost of all persons endued with penances, I am incapable of bearing thy seed any longer. I shall cast it off, compelled by the distress that has overtaken me, and not by caprice. There has been no actual contact of my person with thy seed, O illustrious deity of blazing flames! Our union, having for its cause the distress that has overtaken the deities, has been suitable and not of the flesh, O thou of great splendour. Whatever merit or otherwise there may be in this act (intended to be done by me), O eater of sacrificial libations, must belong to thee. Verily, I think, the righteousness or unrighteousness of this deed must be thine." Unto her the deity of fire said, "Do thou bear the seed. Do, indeed, bear the foetus endued with my energy. It will lead to great results. Thou art, verily, capable of bearing the entire earth. Thou wilt gain nothing by not holding this energy." That foremost of streams, though thus passed by the deity of fire as also by all the other deities, cast off the seed on the breast of Meru, that foremost of all mountains. Capable (somehow) of bearing that seed, yet oppressed by the energy of Rudra (for Agni is identical with Rudra), she failed to hold that seed longer in consequence of its burning energy. After she had cast it off, through sheer distress, that blazing seed having the splendour of fire, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, Agni saw her, and asked that foremost of streams, "Is it all right with the foetus thou hast cast off? Of what complexion has it been, O goddess? Of what form does it look? With what energy does it seem to be endued? Do thou tell me all about it." "'"'Ganga said, "The foetus is endued with the complexion of gold. In energy it is even like thee, O sinless one! Of an excellent complexion, perfectly stainless, and blazing with splendour, it has illuminated the entire mountain. O foremost of all persons endued with penances, the fragrance emitted by it resembles the cool perfume that is scattered by lakes adorned with lotuses and Nyphoea stellata, mixed with that of the Nauclea Cadamba. With the splendour of that foetus everything around it seemed to be transformed into gold even as all things on mountain and low land seem to be transformed into gold by the rays of the Sun. Indeed, the splendour of that foetus, spreading far, falls upon mountains and rivers and springs. Indeed, it seems that the three worlds, with all their mobile and immobile creatures, are being illuminated by it. Even of this kind is thy child, O illustrious bearer of sacrificial libations. Like unto Surya or thy blazing self, in beauty it is even like a second Soma." Having said these words, the goddess disappeared there and then. Pavaka also, of great energy, having accomplished the business of the deities proceeded to the place he liked, O delighter of the Bhrigus. It was in consequence of the result of this act that the Rishis and the deities bestowed the name of Hiranyaretas upon the deity of fire.[386] And because the Earth held that seed (after the goddess Ganga had cast it upon her), she also came to be called by the name of Vasumati. Meanwhile, that foetus, which had sprung from Pavaka and been held for a time by Ganga,[387] having fallen on a forest of reeds, began to grow and at last assumed a wonderful form. The presiding goddess of the constellation Krittika beheld that form resembling the rising sun. She thenceforth began to rear that child as her son with the sustenance of her breast. For this reason, that child of pre-eminent splendour came to be called Kartikeya after her name. And because he grew from seed that fell out of Rudra's body, he came to be called Skanda. The incident also of his birth having taken place in the solitude of a forest of reeds, concealed from everybody's view, led to his being called by the name of Guha. It was in this way that gold came into existence as the offspring of the deity of blazing flames.[388] Hence it is that gold came to be looked upon as the foremost of all things and the ornament of the very gods. It was from this circumstance that gold came to be called by the name of Jatarupam.[389] It is the foremost of all costly things, and among ornaments also it is the foremost. The cleanser among all cleansing things, it is the most auspicious of all auspicious objects. Gold is truly the illustrious Agni, the Lord of all things, and the foremost of all Prajapatis. The most sacred of all sacred things is gold, O foremost of re-generate ones. Verily, gold is said to have for its essence Agni and Soma.' "'"Vasishtha continued, 'This history also, O Rama, called Brahmadarsana, was heard by me in days of yore, respecting the achievement of the Grandsire Brahman who is identifiable with the Supreme Soul. To a sacrifice performed in days of yore by that foremost of gods, viz., Lord Rudra, O thou of great might, who on that occasion had assumed the form of Varuna, there came the Munis and all the deities with Agni at their head. To that sacrifice also came all the sacrificial limbs (in their embodied forms), and the Mantra called Vashat in his embodied form. All the Samans also and all the Yajushes, numbering by thousands and in their embodied forms, came there. The Rig-Veda also came there, adorned with the rules of orthoepy. The Lakshanas, the Suras, the Niruktas, the Notes arranged in rows, and the syllable Om, as also Nigraha and Pragraha, all came there and took their residence in the eye of Mahadeva. The Vedas with the Upanishads, Vidya and Savitri, as also, the Past, the Present, and the Future, all came there and were held by the illustrious Siva. The puissant Lord of all then poured libations himself into his own self. Indeed, the wielder of Pinaka caused that Sacrifice of multifarious form to look exceedingly beautiful. He is Heaven, Firmament, Earth, and the Welkin. He is called the Lord of the Earth. He is the Lord whose sway is owned by all obstacles. He is endued with Sri and He is identical with the deity of blazing flames. That illustrious deity is called by various names. Even He is Brahman and Siva and Rudra and Varuna and Agni and Prajapati. He is the auspicious Lord of all creatures. Sacrifice (in his embodied form), and Penance, and all the union rites, and the goddess Diksha blazing with rigid observances, the several points of the compass with the deities that respectively preside over them, the spouses of all the deities, their daughters, and the celestial mothers, all came together in a body to Pasupati, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race. Verily, beholding that sacrifice of the high-souled Mahadeva who had assumed the form of Varuna, all of them became highly pleased. Seeing the celestial damsels of great beauty, the seed of Brahman came out and fell upon the earth. In consequence of the seed having fallen on the dust, Pushan (Surya) took up that dust mixed with the particles of seed from the earth with his hands and cast it into the sacrificial fire. Meanwhile, the sacrifice with the sacred fire of blazing flames was commenced and it went on. Brahman (as the Hotri) was pouring libations on the fire. While thus employed, the grandsire became excited with desire (and his seed came out). As soon as that seed came out, he took it up with the sacrificial ladle and poured it as a libation of ghee, O delighter of the Bhrigus, with the necessary Mantras, on the blazing fire. From that seed, Brahman of great energy caused the four orders of creatures to spring into existence. That seed of the Grandsire was endued with the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. From that element in it which represented the principle of Rajas, sprang all mobile creatures endued with the principle of Pravritti or action.[390] From the element of Tamas in it, sprang all immobile creatures. The principle of Sattwa, however, which dwelt in that seed, entered both kinds of existences. That attribute of Sattwa is of the nature of Tejas or Light (being identical with Buddhi or the Understanding). It is eternal and of it is unending Space.[391] In all creatures the attribute of Sattwa is present and is identical with that light which shows what is right and what is wrong. When the seed of Brahman was thus poured as a libation on that sacrificial fire, there sprang from it, O mighty one, three beings into existence. They were three male persons, endued with bodies that partook of the characters of the circumstances from which they respectively sprang. One arose first from the flames of the fire (called Bhrig) and hence he came to be called by the name of Bhrigu. A second came from the burning charcoals (called Angara) and hence he came to be called by the name of Angiras. The third sprang from a heap of extinguished charcoals and he came to be called by the name of Kavi. It has been already said that the first came out with flames emanating from his body and hence he was called Bhrigu. From the rays of the sacrificial fire sprang another called Marichi. From Marichi (afterwards) sprang Kasyapa. It has been already said that from the (burning) charcoals sprang Angiras. The (diminutive) Rishis called Valakhilyas sprang from the blades of Kusa grass spread out in that sacrifice. From the same blades of Kula grass, O thou of great puissance, sprang Atri. From the ashes of the fire sprang all those that are numbered among the regenerate Rishis, viz., the Vaikhanasas, endued with penances and devoted to Vedic lore and all excellent accomplishments. From the eyes of Agni sprang the twin Aswins endued with great beauty of person. At last, from his ears, sprang all the Prajapatis. The Rishis sprang from the pores of Agni's body. From his sweat sprang Chhandas, and from his strength sprang Mind. For this reason, Agni has been said to be all the deities in his individual self, by Rishis endued with Vedic lore, guided by the authority of the Vedas. The pieces of wood that keep alive the flames of Agni are regarded as the Months. The Juices that the fuel yields constitute the Fortnights. The liver of Agni is called the Day and Night, and his fierce light is called the Muhurtas. The blood of Agni is regarded as the source of the Rudras. From his blood sprang also the gold-complexioned deities called the Maitradevatas. From his smoke sprang the Vasus. From his flames sprang the Rudras as also the (twelve) Adityas of great effulgence. The Planets and Constellations and other stars that have been set in their respective orbits in the firmament, are regarded as the (burning) charcoals of Agni. The first Creator of the universe declared Agni to be Supreme Brahma and Eternal, and the giver of all wishes. This is verily a mystery. "'"'After all these births had taken place, Mahadeva who had assumed the form of Varuna (for his sacrifice) and who had Pavana for his soul, said, "This excellent Sacrifice is mine. I am the Grahapati in it. The very beings that first sprang from the sacrificial fire are mine. Without doubt, they should be regarded as my offspring. Know this, ye gods who range through the skies! They are the fruits of this Sacrifice." "'"'Agni said, "These offspring have sprung from my limbs. They have all depended upon me as the cause of their starting into life. They should, therefore, be regarded as my children. Mahadeva in the form of Varuna is in error in respect of this matter."[392] After this, the master of all the worlds, the Grandsire of all creatures, viz., Brahman, then said, "These children are mine. The seed was mine which I poured upon the sacrificial fire. I am the accomplisher of this Sacrifice. It was I who poured on the sacrificial fire the seed that came out of myself. The fruit is always his who has planted the seed. The principal cause of these births is the seed owned by me." The deities then repaired to the presence of the Grandsire and having bowed their heads unto him joined their hands in reverence and they said unto him, "All of us, O illustrious one, and the entire universe of mobile and immobile creatures, are thy offspring. O sire, let Agni of blazing flames, and the illustrious and puissant Mahadeva who has, for this sacrifice, assumed the form of Varuna, have their wish (in the matter of the offspring)." At these words, although born of Brahman, the puissant Mahadeva in the form of Varuna, the ruler of all aquatic creatures received the firstborn one, viz., Bhrigu endued with the effulgence of the sun as his own child. The Grandsire then intended that Angiras should become the son of Agni. Conversant with the truth in respect of everything, the Grandsire then took Kavi as his own son. Engaged in procreating creatures for peopling the earth, Bhrigu who is regarded as a Prajapati thence came to be called as Varuna's offspring. Endued with every prosperity, Angiras came to be called the offspring of Agni, and the celebrated Kavi came to be known as the child of Brahman himself. Bhrigu and Angiras who had sprung from the flame and the charcoals of Agni respectively, became the procreators of extensive races and tribes in the world. Verily, these three, viz., Bhrigu and Angiras and Kavi, regarded as Prajapati, are the progenitors of many races and tribes. All are the children of these three. Know this, O puissant hero. Bhrigu begot seven sons all of whom became equal to him in merits and accomplishments. Their names are Chyavana, Vajrasirsha, Suchi, Urva, Sukra, that giver of boons, Vibhu, and Savana. These are the seven. They are children of Bhrigu and are hence Bhargavas. They are also called Varunas in consequence of their ancestor Bhrigu having been adopted by Mahadeva in the form of Varuna. Thou belongest to the race of Bhrigu. Angiras begot eight sons. They also are known as Varunas. Their names are Vrihaspati, Utathya, Payasya, Santi, Dhira, Virupa, Samvarta, and Sudhan was the eighth. These eight are regarded also as the offspring of Agni. Freed from every evil, they are devoted to knowledge only. The sons of Kavi who was appropriated by Brahman himself are also known as Varunas. Numbering eight, all of them became progenitors of races and tribes. Auspicious by nature, they are all conversant with Brahma. The names of the eight sons of Kavi are Kavi, Kavya, Dhrishnu, Usanas endued with great intelligence, Bhrigu, Viraja, Kasi, and Ugra conversant with every duty. These are the eight sons of Kavi. By them the whole world has been peopled. They are all Prajapatis, and by them have been procreated many offspring. Thus, O chief of Bhrigu's race, hath the whole world been peopled with the progeny of Angiras, and Kavi and Bhrigu. The puissant and supreme Lord Mahadeva in the form of Varuna which he had assumed for his sacrifice had first, O learned Brahmana, adopted both Kavi and Angiras. Hence, these two are regarded as of Varuna. After that the eater of sacrificial libations, viz., the deity of blazing flames, adopted Angiras. Hence, all the progeny of Angiras are known as belonging to the race of Agni. The Grandsire Brahman was, in olden days, gratified by all the deities who said unto him, "Let these lords of the universe (referring to Bhrigu and Angiras and Kavi and their descendants) rescue us all. Let all of them become progenitors of offspring (for peopling the earth). Let all of them become endued with penances. Through thy grace, let all these rescue the world (from becoming an uninhabited wilderness). Let them become procreators and extenders of races and tribes and let them increase thy energy. Let all of them become thorough masters of the Vedas and let them be achievers of great deeds. Let all of them be friends to the cause of the deities. Indeed, let all of them become endued with auspiciousness. Let them become founders of extensive races and tribes and let them be great Rishis. Let all of them be endued with high penances and let all of them be devoted to high Brahmacharya, All of us, as also all these are thy progeny, O thou of great puissance. Thou, O Grandsire, art the Creator of both, deities and the Brahmanas. Marichi is thy first son. All these also that are called Bhargavas are thy progeny. (Ourselves also are so). Looking at this fact, O Grandsire, we shall all aid and support one another. All these shall, in this way, multiply their progeny and establish thyself at the commencement of each creation after the universal destruction." Thus addressed by them, Brahman, the Grandsire of all the worlds, said unto them, "So be it! I am gratified with you all!" Having said so unto the deities he proceeded to the place he had come from. Even this is what happened in days of old in that sacrifice of the high-souled Mahadeva, that foremost one of all the deities, in the beginning of creation, when he for the purposes of his sacrifice had assumed the form of Varuna. Agni is Brahman. He is Pasupati. He is Sarva. He is Rudra. He is Prajapati.[393] It is well-known that gold is the offspring of Agni. When fire is not obtainable (for the purposes of a sacrifice), gold is used as substitute. Guided by the indications afforded by the auditions of the Veda, one that is conversant with authorities and that knows the identity of gold with fire, acts in this way. Placing a piece of gold on some blades of Kusa grass spread out on the ground, the sacrificer pours libations upon it. Upon also the pores of an ant-hill, upon the right ear of a goat, upon a piece of level earth, upon the waters of a Tirtha, or on the hand of a Brahmana, if libations are poured, the illustrious deity of fire becomes gratified and regards it as a source of his own aggrandisement as also that of the deities through his. Hence, it is that we have heard that all the deities regard Agni as their refuge and are devoted to him. Agni sprang from Brahman, and from Agni sprang gold.[394] Hence, it has been heard by us, that those persons observant of righteousness that make gifts of gold are regarded as giving away all the deities. The man who makes gifts of gold attains to a very high end. Regions of blazing effulgence are his. Verily, O Bhargava, he becomes installed as the king of kings in heaven. That person who, at sunrise, makes a gift of gold according to the ordinance and with proper Mantras, succeeds in warding off the evil consequences foreshadowed by ominous dreams. The man who, as soon as the sun has risen, makes a gift of gold becomes cleansed of all his sins. He who makes a gift of gold at midday destroys all his future sins. He who with restrained soul, makes a gift of gold at the second twilight succeeds in attaining to a residence with Brahman and the deity of wind and Agni and Soma in their respective regions. Such a man attains to auspicious fame in regions of great felicity that belong to Indra himself. Attaining to great fame in this world also, and cleansed of all his sins, he sports in joy and happiness. Verily, such a man attains to many other regions of happiness and becomes unequalled for glory and fame. His course perfectly unobstructed, he succeeds in going everywhere at will. He has never to fall down from the regions to which he attains and the glory he acquires becomes great. Indeed, by making gifts of gold one attains to innumerable regions of felicity all of which he enjoys for eternity. That man who, having ignited a fire at sunrise, makes gifts of gold in view of the observance of a particular vow, succeeds in attaining to the fruition of all his wishes. It has been said that gold is identical with Agni. The gift of gold, therefore, is productive of great felicity. The gift of gold leads to the possession of those merits and accomplishments that are desired, and cleanses the heart.[395] I have thus told thee, O sinless one, the origin of gold. O thou of puissance, hear how Kartikeya grew up, O delighter of Bhrigu's race. After a long time Kartikeya grew up. He was then, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, chosen by all the deities with Indra at their head, as the generalissimo of the celestial forces. He slew the Daitya Taraka as also many other Asuras, at the command of the chief of the celestials, O Brahmana, and actuated also by the desire of benefiting all the worlds. I have also, O thou of great might, discoursed to thee on the merits of making gifts of gold. Do thou, therefore, O foremost of all speakers make gifts of gold.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Vasishtha, Jamadagni's son of great prowess then made gifts of gold unto the Brahmanas and became cleansed of his sins. I have thus told thee, O king, everything about the merits of the gifts of gold and about its origin also, O Yudhishthira. Do thou also, therefore, make abundant gifts of gold unto the Brahmanas. Verily, O king, by making such gifts of gold, thou wilt surely be cleansed of all thy sins!"'" SECTION LXXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O grandsire, discoursed to me, in detail on the merits that attach to the gift of gold agreeably with the ordinances laid down in the scriptures as indicated in the auditions of the Veda. Thou hast also narrated what the origin is of gold. Do thou tell me now how Taraka met with destruction. Thou hast said, O king, that Asura had become unslayable by the gods. Do thou tell me in detail how his destruction was brought about. O perpetuator of Kuru's race, I desire to hear this from thee. I mean the details of Taraka's slaughter. Great is my curiosity to hear the narrative." "'Bhishma said, "The gods and the Rishis, O monarch, reduced to great distress (by Taraka's prowess and the conduct of Ganga in casting off Agni's seed), urged the six Krittikas to rear that child. Amongst the celestial ladies there were none, save these, that could, by their energy, bear the seed of Agni in their wombs. The god of fire became exceedingly gratified with those goddesses for their readiness to sustain the conception caused by the cast off seed of Agni which was endued with his own high energy. When the energy of Agni, O king, was divided into six portions and placed within the channels (leading to the womb), the six Krittikas began to nourish the portion that each held in her womb. As the high-souled Kumara, however, began to grow within their wombs, their bodies being afflicted by his energy, they failed to obtain peace anywhere (in heaven or on earth). Filled with energy as their bodies were, the time at last came for delivery. All of them, it so happened, O prince of men, delivered at the same time. Though held in six different wombs, yet all the portions, as they came out, united into one. The goddess Earth held the child, taking it up from a heap of gold. Verily, the child, endued with excellent form, blazed with splendour even like the god of Fire. Of beautiful features, he began to grow in a delightful forest of reeds. The six Krittikas beheld that child of theirs looking like the morning sun in splendour. Filled with affection for him,--indeed, loving him very much,--they began to rear him with the sustenance of their breasts. In consequence of his having been born of the Krittikas and reared by them, he came to be known throughout the three worlds as Kartikeya. Having sprung from the seed which had fallen off from Rudra he was named Skanda, and because of his birth in the solitude of a forest of reeds he came to be called by the name of Guha (the secret-born). The gods numbering three and thirty, the points of the compass (in their embodied forms) together with the deities presiding over them, and Rudra and Dhatri and Vishnu and Yama and Pushan and Aryaman and Bhaga, and Angas and Mitra and the Sadhyas and Vasava and the Vasus and the Aswins and the Waters and the Wind and the Firmament and Chandramas and all the Constellations and the Planets and Surya, and all the Ricks and Samans and Yajuses in their embodied forms, came there to behold that wonderful child who was the son of the deity of blazing flames. The Rishis uttered hymns of praise and the Gandharvas sang in honour of that child called Kumara of six heads, twice six eyes, and exceedingly devoted to the Brahmanas. His shoulders were broad, and he had a dozen arms, and the splendour of his person resembled that of fire and Aditya. As he lay stretched on a clump of heath, the gods with the Rishis, beholding him, became filled with great delight and regarded the great Asura as already slain. The deities then began to bring him diverse kinds of toys and articles that could amuse him. As he played like a child, diverse kinds of toys and birds were given unto him. Garuda of excellent feathers gave unto him a child of his, viz., a peacock endued with plumes of variegated hue. The Rakshasas gave unto him a boar and a buffalo. Aruna himself gave him a cock of fiery splendour. Chandramas gave him a sheep, and Aditya gave him some dazzling rays of his. The mother of all kine, viz., Surabhi, gave him kine by hundreds and thousands. Agni gave him a goat possessed of many good qualities. Ila gave him an abundant quantity of flowers and fruit. Sudhanwan gave him a riding chariot and a car of Kuvara. Varuna gave him many auspicious and excellent, products of the Ocean, with some elephants. The chief of the celestials gave him lions and tigers and pards and diverse kinds of feathery denizens of the air, and many terrible beasts of prey and many umbrellas also of diverse kinds. Rakshasas and Asuras, in large bands, began to walk in the train of that puissant child. Beholding the son of Agni grow up, Taraka sought, by various means, to effect his destruction, but he failed to do anything unto that puissant deity. The god in time invested Agni's son born in the solitude (of a forest of reeds) with the command of their forces. And they also informed him of the oppressions committed upon them by the Asura Taraka. The generalissimo of the celestial forces grew up and became possessed of great energy and puissance. In time Guha slew Taraka, with his irresistible dart. Verily, Kumara slew the Asura as easily as if in sport. Having accomplished the destruction of Taraka he re-established the chief of the deities in his sovereignty of the three worlds. Endued with mighty prowess, the celestial generalissimo blazed with beauty and splendour. The puissant Skanda became the protector of the deities and did what was agreeable to Sankara. The illustrious son of Pavaka was endued with a golden form. Verily, Kumara is always the leader of the celestial forces. Gold is the puissant energy of the god of fire and was born with Kartikeya (from the same seed). Hence is Gold highly auspicious and, as a valuable, is excellent and endued with inexhaustible merit. Even thus, O son of Kuru's race, did Vasishtha recite this discourse unto Rama of Bhrigu's race in days of old. Do thou, therefore, O king of men, try to make gifts of Gold. By making gifts of Gold, Rama became cleansed of all his sins, and finally attained to a high place in heaven that is unattainable by other men."'" SECTION LXXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast discoursed to me, O thou of righteous soul, on the duties of the four orders. Do thou, after the same manner, O king, discourse to me now on all the ordinances respecting the Sraddha (of deceased ancestors)."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, the son of Santanu set himself to declare unto him the following ritual, consistent with the ordinance of the Sraddha.' "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, with close attention, to me as I discourse to you on the ritual of the Sraddha. That ritual is auspicious, worthy of praise, productive of fame and progeny, and is regarded as a sacrifice, O scorcher of foes, in honour of the Pitris. Gods or Asuras or human beings, Gandharvas or Uragas or Rakshasas, Pisachas or Kinnaras,--every one should always worship the Pitris. It is seen that people worship the Pitris first, and gratify the deities next by offering them their adorations. Hence, one should always worship the Pitris with every care.[396] It is said, O king, that the Sraddha performed in honour of the Pitris is performable afterwards. But this general rule is restrained by a special one (which directs that the Sraddha in honour of the Pitris should be performed on the afternoon of the day of the New moon).[397] The (deceased) grandsires become gratified with the Sraddha that may be performed on any day. I shall, however, tell thee now what the merits and demerits are of the respective lunar days (in view of their adaptability to the performance of the Sraddha). I shall discourse to thee, O sinless one, what fruits are attained on what days by performing the Sraddha. Do thou listen to me with close attention. By adoring the Pitris on the first day of the lighted fortnight, one obtains in one's abode beautiful spouses capable of producing many children all possessed of desirable accomplishments. By performing the Sraddha on the second day of the lighted fortnight one gets many daughters. By performing it on the third day, one acquires many steeds. By performing it on the fourth day, one gets a large herd of smaller animals (such as goats and sheep) in one's house. They, O king, who perform the Sraddha on the fifth day, get many sons. Those men who perform the Sraddha on the sixth day acquire great splendour. By performing it on the seventh day, O monarch, one acquires great fame. By performing it on the eighth day one makes great profits in trade. By performing it on the ninth day one acquires many animals of uncloven hoofs. By performing it on the tenth day one acquires much wealth in kine. By performing it on the eleventh day one becomes the possessor of much wealth in clothes and utensils (of brass and other metals). Such a man also obtains many sons all of whom become endued with Brahma splendour. By performing the Sraddha on the twelfth day one always beholds, if one desires, diverse kinds of beautiful articles made of silver and gold. By performing the Sraddha on the thirteenth day one attains to eminence over one's kinsmen. Without doubt, all the young men in the family of him who performs the Sraddha on the fourteenth day meet with death. Such a man becomes entangled in war. By performing the Sraddha on the day of the new moon, one obtains the fruition of every wish. In the dark fortnight, all the days commencing with the tenth (and ending with that of the new moon), leaving only the fourteenth day out, are laudable days for the performance of the Sraddha. Other days of that fortnight are not so. Then, again, as the dark fortnight is better than the lighted one, so the afternoon of the day is better than the forenoon in the matter of the Sraddha."'" SECTION LXXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou of great puissance, tell me what that object is which, if dedicated to the Pitris, becomes inexhaustible! What Havi, again, (if offered) lasts for all time? What, indeed, is that which (if presented) becomes eternal?" "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me, O Yudhishthira, what those Havis are which persons conversant with the ritual of the Sraddha regard as suitable in view of the Sraddha and what the fruits are that attach to each. With sesame seeds and rice and barley and Masha and water and roots and fruits, if given at Sraddhas, the Pitris, O king, remain gratified for the period of a month.[398] Manu has said that if a Sraddha is performed with a copious measure of sesame, such Sraddha becomes inexhaustible. Of all kinds of food, sesame seeds are regarded as the best. With fishes offered at Sraddhas, the Pitris remain gratified for a period of two months. With mutton they remain gratified for three months and with the flesh of the hare for four. With the flesh of the goat, O king, they remain gratified for five months, with bacon for six months, and with the flesh of birds for seven. With venison obtained from those deer that are called Prishata, they remain gratified for eight months, and with that obtained from the Ruru for nine months, and with the meat of the Gavaya for ten months. With the meat of the buffalo their gratification lasts for eleven months. With beef presented at the Sraddha, their gratification, it is said, lasts for a full year. Payasa mixed with ghee is as much acceptable to the Pitris as beef. With the meat of the Vadhrinasa the gratification of the Pitris lasts for twelve years.[399] The flesh of the rhinoceros, offered to the Pitris on the anniversaries of the lunar days on which they died, becomes inexhaustible. The potherb called Kalasaka, the petals of the Kanchana flower, and meat of the goat also, thus offered, prove inexhaustible.[400] In this connection, O Yudhishthira, there are some verses, originally sung by the Pitris, that are sung (in the world). They were communicated to me in former days by Sanatkumara.--'He that has taken birth in our race should give us Payasa mixed with ghee on the thirteenth day (of the dark fortnight), under the constellation Magha, during the Sun's southward course. One born in our race should, under the constellation Magha, as if in the observance of a vow, offer the meat of goat or the petals of the Kanchana flower. One should also offer us, with due rites, Payasa mixed with ghee, dedicating it on a spot covered by the shadow of an elephant.'--Many sons should be coveted so that even one may go to Gaya (for performing the Sraddha of his ancestors), where stands the banian that is celebrated over all the worlds and that makes all offerings made under its branches inexhaustible.[401] Even a little of water, roots, fruits, meat, and rice, mixed with honey, if offered on the anniversary of the day of death becomes inexhaustible."'" SECTION LXXXIX "'Bhishma continued, "Listen to me, O Yudhishthira, as I tell thee what those optional Sraddhas are that should be performed under the different constellations and that were first spoken of by Yama unto king Sasavindu.[402] That man who always performs the Sraddha under the constellation Krittika is regarded as performing a sacrifice after establishing the sacred fire. Such a person, freed from fear, ascends to heaven with his children. He that is desirous of children should perform the Sraddha under the constellation Rohini, while he that is desirous of energy should do it under the constellation Mrigasiras. By performing the Sraddha under the constellation Ardra, a man becomes the doer of fierce deeds. A mortal, by performing the Sraddha under Punarvasu, makes such again by agriculture. The man that is desirous of growth and advancement should perform the Sraddha under Pushya. By doing it under the constellation Aslesha one begets heroic children. By doing it under the Maghas one attains to pre-eminence among kinsmen. By doing it under the prior Phalgunis, the doer of it becomes endued with good fortune. By doing the Sraddha under the later Phalgunis one attains to many children; while by performing it under Hasta, one attains to the fruition of one's wishes. By performing it under the constellation Chitra one obtains children endued with great beauty. By doing it under the constellation Swati, one makes much profit by trade. The man that desires children acquires the fruition of his wish by performing the Sraddha under the constellation Visakha. By doing it under Anuradha one becomes a king of kings.[403] By making offerings in honour of the Pitris under the constellation Jyeshtha with devotion and humility, one attains to sovereignty, O foremost one of Kuru's race. By doing the Sraddha under Mula one attains to health, and by doing it under the prior Ashadha, one acquires excellent fame. By performing it under the later Ashadha one succeeds in roving over the whole world, freed from every sorrow. By doing it under the constellation Abhijit one attains to high knowledge. By doing it under Sravana one, departing from this world, attains to a very high end. The man that performs the Sraddha under the constellation Dhanishtha becomes the ruler of a kingdom. By doing it under the constellation presided over by Varuna (viz., Satabhisha), one attains to success as a physician. By performing the Sraddha under the constellation of the prior Bhadrapada one acquires large property in goats and sheep; while by doing it under the later Bhadrapada one acquires thousands of kine. By performing the Sraddha under the constellation Revati one acquires much wealth in utensils of white brass and copper. By doing it under Aswini one acquires many steeds, while under Bharani one attains to longevity. Listening to these ordinances about the Sraddha, king Sasavindu acted accordingly, and succeeded in easily subjugating and ruling the whole earth."'" SECTION XC "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoves thee, O foremost one of Kuru's race, to tell me unto what kind of Brahmanas, O grandsire, should the offers made at Sraddhas be given away." "'Bhishma said, "The Kshatriya who is conversant with the ordinances about gift should never examine Brahmanas (when making gifts unto them). In all acts, however, that relate to the worship of the deities and the Pitris, an examination has been said to be proper. The deities are worshipped on earth by men only when they are filled with devotion that comes from the deities themselves. Hence, one should, approaching them, make gifts unto all Brahmanas (without any examination of their merits), regarding such gifts as are made to the deities themselves. In Sraddhas, however, O monarch, the man of intelligence should examine the Brahmanas (to be employed for assisting the doers of the Sraddha in getting through the ritual and making gifts unto them of the offerings made to the Pitris). Such examination should concern itself with their birth and conduct and age and appearance and learning and nobility (or otherwise) of parentage. Amongst the Brahmanas there are some that pollute the line and some that sanctify it. Listen to me, O king, as I tell thee who those Brahmanas are that should be excluded from the line.[404] He that is full of guile, or he that is guilty of foeticide, or he that is ill of consumption, or he that keeps animals, or is destitute of Vedic study, or is a common servant of a village, or lives upon the interest of loans, or he that is a singer, or he that sells all articles, or he that is guilty of arson, or he that is a poisoner or he that is a pimp by profession, or he that sells Soma, or he that is a professor of palmistry, or he that is in the employ of the king, or he that is seller of oil, or he that is a cheat and false swearer, or he that has a quarrel with his father, or he that tolerates a paramour of his wife in his house, or he that has been cursed, or he that is a thief, or he that lives by some mechanical art, or he that puts on disguises, or he that is deceitful in his behaviour, or he that is hostile to those he calls his friends, or he that is an adulterer, or he that is a preceptor of Sudras, or he that has betaken himself to the profession of arms, or he that wanders with dogs (for hunting), or he that has been bit by a dog, or he that has wedded before his elder brothers, or he that seems to have undergone circumcision,[405] he that violates the bed of his preceptor, he that is an actor or mime, he that lives by setting up a deity and he that lives by calculating the conjunctions of stars and planets and asterisms[406], are regarded as fit to be excluded from the line. Persons conversant with the Vedas say that the offerings made at Sraddhas, if eaten by such Brahmanas, go to fill the stomachs of Rakshasas (instead of filling those of the Pitris), O Yudhishthira. That person who having eaten at a Sraddha does not abstain that day from study of the Vedas or who has sexual congress that day with a Sudra woman, must know that his Pitris, in consequence of such acts of his, have to lie for a month on his dung. The offerings made at Sraddhas if presented to a Brahmana who sells Soma, become converted into human ordure; if presented to a Brahmana who is engaged in the practice of Medicine, they become converted into pus and blood; if presented to one who lives by setting up a deity, they fail to produce any fruit; if presented to one who lives upon the interest of loans they lead to infamy; if presented to one who is engaged in trade, they become productive of no fruits either here or hereafter. If presented to a Brahmana who is born of a widowed mother (by a second husband), they become as fruitless as libations poured on ashes[407]. They who present the Havya and Kavya (offered at Sraddhas) unto such Brahmanas as are divested of the duties ordained for them and of those rules of good conduct that persons of their order should observe, find such presents productive of no merits hereafter. That man of little intelligence who makes gifts of such articles unto such men knowing their dispositions, obliges, by such conduct, his Pitris to eat human ordure in the next world. Thou shouldst know that these wretches among Brahmanas deserve to be excluded from the line. Those Brahmanas also of little energy who are engaged in instructing Sudras are of the same class. A Brahmana that is blind stains sixty individual of the line; one that is destitute of virile power a hundred; while one that is afflicted with white leprosy stains as many as he looks upon, O king. Whatever offerings made at Sraddhas are eaten by one with his head wrapped round with a cloth, whatever is eaten by one with face southwards, and whatever is eaten with shoes or sandals on all goes to gratify the Asuras. Whatever, again, is given with malice, and whatever is given without reverence, have been ordained by Brahmana himself as the portion of the prince of Asuras (viz., Vali). Dogs, and such Brahmanas as are polluters of lines, should not be allowed to cast their eyes upon the offerings made at Sraddhas. For this reason, Sraddhas should be performed in a spot that is properly hedged around or concealed from the view. That spot should also be strewn with sesame seeds. That Sraddha which is performed without sesame seeds, or that which is done by a person in anger, has its Havi robbed by Rakshasas and Pisachas. Commensurate with the number of Brahmanas seen by one that deserves to be excluded from the line, is the loss of merit he causes of the foolish performer of the Sraddha who invites him to the feast. "'"I shall now, O chief of Bharata's race, tell thee who are sanctifiers of the line. Do thou find them out by examination. All those Brahmanas that are cleansed by knowledge, Vedic study, and vows and observances, and they that are of good and righteous behaviour, should be known as sanctifiers of everything. I shall now tell thee who deserve to sit in the line. Thou shouldst know them to be such whom I shall indicate presently. He that is conversant with the three Nachiketas, he that has set up the five sacrificial fires, he that knows the five Suparnas, he that is conversant with the six branches (called Angas) of the Veda, he that is a descendant of sires who were engaged in teaching the Vedas and is himself engaged in teaching, he that is well-conversant with the Chhandas, he that is acquainted with the Jeshtha Saman, he that is obedient to the sway of his parents, he that is conversant with the Vedas and whose ancestors have been so for ten generations, he that has congress with only his wedded wives and this at their seasons, and he who has been cleansed by knowledge, by the Veda, and by vows and observances,--even such a Brahmana,--sanctifies the line. He who reads the Atharva-siras, who is devoted to the observance of Brahmacharya practices, and who is steady in observance of righteous vows, who is truthful and of righteous conduct, and who is duly observant of the duties laid down for his order, they also that have undergone fatigue and labour for bathing in the waters of tirthas, that have undergone the final bath after performing sacrifices with proper Mantras that are freed from the sway of wrath, that are not restless, that are endued with forgiving dispositions, that are self-restrained masters of their senses, and they are devoted to the good of all creatures,--these should be invited to Sraddhas. Anything given to these becomes inexhaustible. These indeed, are sanctifiers of lines. There are others also, highly blessed, that should be regarded as sanctifiers of the line. They are Yatis and those that are conversant with the religion of Moksha, and they that are devoted to Yoga, and they that properly observe excellent vows and they that, with collected mind recite (sacred) histories unto foremost of Brahmanas. They that are conversant with Bhashyas, they also that are devoted to grammatical studies, they that study the Puranas and they that study the Dharmasastras and having studied them (i.e., the Puranas and Dharmasastras) act up to the standard laid down in them, he that has lived (for the stated period) in the abode of his preceptor, he that is truthful in speech, he that is a giver of thousands, they that are foremost in (their knowledge of) all the Vedas and the scriptural and philosophical aphorisms,--these sanctify the line as far they look at it. And because they sanctify all who sit in the line, therefore are they called sanctifiers of lines. Utterers of Brahma say that even a single person that happens to be the descendant of sires who were teachers of the Veda and that is himself a Vedic teacher, sanctifies full seven miles around him. If he that is not a Ritwik and that is not a Vedic teacher takes the foremost seat in a Sraddha, with even the permission of the other Ritwiks there present, he is said to take (by that act of his) the sins of all who may be sitting in the line. If, on the other hand, he happens to be conversant with the Vedas and freed from all those faults that are regarded as capable of polluting the line, he shall not, O king, be regarded as fallen (by taking the foremost seat in a Sraddha). Such a man would then be really a sanctifier of the line. For these reasons, O king, thou shouldst properly examine the Brahmanas before inviting them to Sraddhas. Thou shouldst invite only such among them as are devoted to the duties laid down for their order, and as are born in good families, and as are possessed of great learning. He who performs Sraddhas for feeding only his friends and whose Havi does not gratify the deities and the Pitris, fails to ascend to Heaven. He who collects his friends and relatives only on the occasion of the Sraddha he performs (without keeping an eye on properly honouring deserving persons by inviting and feeding them), fails to proceed (after death) by the path of the deities (which is a lighted one and free from all afflictions and impediments). The man who makes the Sraddha he performs an occasion for only gathering his friends, never succeeds in ascending to heaven. Verily, the man who converts the Sraddha into an occasion for treating his friends, becomes dissociated from heaven even like a bird dissociated from the perch when the chain tying it breaks.[408] Therefore, he that performs a Sraddha should not honour (on such occasions) his friends. He may make gifts of wealth unto them on other occasions by collecting them together. The Havi and the Kavi offered at Sraddhas should be served unto them that are neither friends nor foes but are only indifferent or neutral. As seed sown on a sterile soil does not sprout forth, or as one that has not sown does not get a share of the produce, even so that Sraddha the offerings in which are eaten by an unworthy person, yields no fruit either here or hereafter.[409] That Brahmana who is destitute of Vedic study is like a fire made by burning grass or straw; and becomes soon extinguished even like such a fire. The offerings made at Sraddhas should not be given to him even as libations should not be poured on the ashes of the sacrificial fire. When the offerings made at Sraddhas are exchanged by the performers with one another (instead of being given away unto worthy persons), they come to be regarded as Pisacha presents. Such offerings gratify neither the gods nor the Pitris. Instead of reaching the other world, they wander about even here like a cow that has lost her calf wandering about within the fold. As those libations of ghee that are poured upon the extinguished ashes of a sacrificial fire never reach either the gods or the Pitris, after the same manner a gift that is made to a dancer or a singer or a Dakshina presented to a lying or deceitful person, produces no merit. The Dakshina that is presented to a lying or deceitful person destroys both the giver and the receiver without benefiting them in any respect. Such a Dakshina is destructive and highly censurable. The Pitris of the person making it have to fall down from the path of the deities. The gods know them to be Brahmanas who always tread, O Yudhishthira, within the bounds set up by the Rishis who are conversant with all duties, and who have a firm faith in their efficacy. Those Brahmanas that are devoted to Vedic study, to knowledge, to penances, and to acts, O Bharata, should be known as Rishis. The offerings made at Sraddhas should be given unto those that are devoted to knowledge. Verily, they are to be regarded as men who never speak ill of the Brahmanas. Those men should never be fed on occasions of Sraddhas who speak ill of Brahmanas in course of conversation in the midst of assemblies. If Brahmanas, O king, be calumniated, they would destroy three generations of the calumniator.[410] This is the declaration, O king, of the Vaikhanasa Rishis. Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas should be examined from a distance. Whether one likes them or feels a dislike for them, one should give unto such Brahmanas the offerings made at Sraddhas. That man who feeds thousands upon thousands of false Brahmanas acquires merit that is attainable by feeding even one Brahmana if the latter happens to be possessed of a knowledge of the Vedas, O Bharata!"'" SECTION XCI "'Yudhishthira said, "By whom was the Sraddha first conceived and at what time? What also is its essence? During the time when the world was peopled by only the descendants of Bhrigu and Angiras, who was the muni that established the Sraddha? What acts should not be done at Sraddha? What are those Sraddhas in which fruits and roots are to be offered? What species also of paddy should be avoided in Sraddhas? Do thou tell me all this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me, O ruler of men, as I tell thee how the Sraddha was introduced, the time of such introduction, the essences of the rite, and the Muni who conceived it. From the Self-born Brahman sprang Atri, O thou of Kuru's race. In Atri's race was born a Muni of the name of Dattatreya. Dattatreya got a son of the name of Nimi possessed of wealth of asceticism. Nimi got a son named Srimat who was endued with great beauty of person. Upon the expiration of a full thousand years, Srimat, having undergone the severest austerities, succumbed to the influence of Time and departed from this world. His sire Nimi, having performed the Purificatory rites according to the ritual laid down in the ordinance, became filled with great grief, thinking continually of the loss of his son.[411] Thinking of that cause of sorrow the high-souled Nimi collected together various agreeable objects (of food and drink) on the fourteenth day of the moon. The next morning he rose from bed. Pained his heart was with grief, as he rose from sleep that day--he succeeded in withdrawing it from the one object upon which it had been working. His understanding succeeded in busying itself with other matters. With concentrated attention he then conceived the idea of a Sraddha. All those articles of his own food, consisting of fruits and roots, and all those kinds of staple grains that were agreeable to him, were carefully thought of by that sage possessed of wealth of penances. On the day of the New moon he invited a number of adorable Brahmanas (to his asylum). Possessed of great wisdom, Nimi caused them to be seated on seats (of Kusa grass) and honoured them by going around their persons. Approaching seven such Brahmanas whom he had brought to his abode together, the puissant Nimi gave unto them food consisting of Syamaka rice, unmixed with salt. Towards the feet of those Brahmanas engaged in eating the food that was served unto them a number of Kusa blades was spread out on the seats they occupied, with the top ends of the blades directed towards the south. With a pure body and mind and with concentrated attention, Nimi, having placed those blades of sacred grass in the way indicated, offered cakes of rice unto his dead son, uttering his name and family. Having done this, that foremost of Munis became filled with regret at the idea of having achieved an act that had not (to his knowledge) been laid down in any of the scriptures. Indeed, filled with regret he began to think of what he had done.[412] 'Never done before by the Munis, alas, what have I done! How shall I (for having done an act that has not been ordained) avoid being cursed by the Brahmanas (as an introducer of strange rites)?' He then thought of the original progenitor of his race. As soon as he was thought of, Atri endued with wealth of penances came there. Beholding him exceedingly afflicted with grief on account of the death of his son, the immortal Atri comforted him with agreeable counsels. He said unto him, 'O Muni, this rite that thou hast conceived, is a sacrifice in honour of the Pitris. Let no fear be thine, O thou that art possessed of the wealth of asceticism! The Grandsire Brahman himself, in days of old, laid it down! This rite that thou hast conceived has been ordained by the Self-born himself. Who else than the Self-born could ordain this ritual in Sraddhas? I shall presently tell thee, O son, the excellent ordinance laid down in respect of Sraddhas. Ordained by the Self-born himself, O son, do thou follow it. Listen to me first! Having first performed the Karana on the sacred fire with the aid of Mantras, O thou that art possessed of wealth of penances, one should always pour libations next unto the deity of fire, and Soma, and Varuna. Unto the Viswedevas also, who are always the companions of the Pitris, the Self-born then ordained a portion of the offerings. The Earth also, as the goddess that sustains the offerings made at Sraddhas, should then be praised under the names of Vaishnavi, Kasyapi, and the inexhaustible.[413] When water is being fetched for the Sraddha, the deity Varuna of great puissance should be praised. After this, both Agni and Soma should be invoked with reverence and gratified (with libations), O sinless one. Those deities that are called by the name of Pitris were created by the Self-born. Others also, highly blessed, viz., the Ushnapsa, were created by him. For all these shares have been ordained of the offerings made at Sraddhas. By adoring all these deities at Sraddhas, the ancestors of the persons performing them become freed from all sins. The Pitris referred to above as those created by the Self-born number seven. The Viswedevas having Agni for their mouth (for it is through Agni that they feed), have been mentioned before. I shall now mention the names of those high-souled deities who deserve shares of the offerings made at Sraddhas. Those names are Vala, Dhriti, Vipapa, Punyakrit, Pavana, Parshni, Kshemak, Divysanu, Vivaswat, Viryavat, Hrimat, Kirtimat, Krita, Jitatman, Munivirya, Diptaroman, Bhayankara, Anukarman, Pratia, Pradatri, Ansumat, Sailabha, Parama Krodhi, Dhiroshni, Bhupati, Sraja, Vajrin, and Vari,--these are the eternal Viswedevas. There are others also whose names are Vidyutvarchas, Somavarchas, and Suryasri. Others also are numbered amongst them, viz., Somapa, Suryasavitra, Dattatman, Pundariyaka, Ushninabha, Nabhoda, Viswayu, Dipti, Chamuhara, Suresa, Vyomari, Sankara Bhava, Isa, Kartri, Kriti, Daksha, Bhuvana, Divya, Karmakrit, Ganita Panchavirya, Aditya, Rasmimat, Saptakrit, Somavachas, Viswakrit, Kavi, Anugoptri, Sugoptri, Naptri, and Iswara:--these highly blessed ones are numbered as the Viswedevas. They are eternal and conversant with all that occurs in Time. The species of paddy which should not be offered at Sraddhas are those called Kodrava, and Pulka. Assafoetida also, among articles used in cooking, should not be offered, as also onions and garlic, the produce of the Moringa pterygosperma, Bauhinia Variegata, the meat of animals slain with envenomed shafts, all varieties of Sucuribita Pepo, Sucuribita lagenaria, and black salt. The other articles that should not be offered at Sraddhas are the flesh of the domesticated hog, the meat of all animals not slaughtered at sacrifices, Nigella sativa, salt of the variety called Vid, the potherb that is called Sitapaki, all sprouts (like those of the bamboo), and also the Trapa bispinosa. All kinds of salt should be excluded from the offerings made at Sraddhas, and also the fruits of the Eugenia Jamblana. All articles, again, upon which any one has spat or upon which tears have fallen should not be offered at Sraddhas. Among offerings made to the Pitris or with the Havya and Kavya offered to the deities, the potherb called Sudarsana (Menispermum tomentosum, Rox) should not be included. Havi mixed with this is not acceptable to Pitris. From the place where the Sraddha is being performed, the Chandala and the Swapacha should be excluded, as also all who wear clothes steeped in yellow, and persons affected with leprosy, or one who has been excasted (for transgressions), or one who is guilty of Brahmanicide, or a Brahmana of mixed descent or one who is the relative of an excasted man. These all should be excluded by persons possessed of wisdom from the place where a Sraddha is being performed,' Having said these words in days of old unto the Rishi Nimi of his own race, the illustrious Atri possessed of wealth of penances then went back to the Grandsire's assembly in Heaven."'" SECTION XCII "'Bhishma said, "After Nimi had acted in the way described above, all the great Rishis began to perform the sacrifice in honour of the Pitris (called the Sraddha) according to rites laid down in the ordinance. Firmly devoted to the discharge of all duties, the Rishis, having performed Sraddhas, began to also offer oblations (unto the Pitris) of sacred waters, with attention. In consequence, however, of the offerings made by persons of all classes (unto the Pitris), the Pitris began to digest that food. Soon they, and the deities also with them, became afflicted with indigestion. Indeed, afflicted with the heaps of food that all persons began to give them, they repaired to the presence of Soma. Approaching Soma they said, 'Alas, great is our affliction in consequence of the food that is offered to us at Sraddhas. Do thou ordain what is necessary for our ease.' Unto them Soma answered, saying, 'If, ye gods, ye are desirous of obtaining ease, do ye repair then unto the abode of the Self-born. Even he will do what is for your good.' At these words of Soma, the deities and the Pitris then proceeded, O Bharata, to the Grandsire where he was seated on the summit of the mountains of Meru. "'"The Deities said, 'O illustrious one, with the food that is offered us in sacrifices and Sraddhas, we are being exceedingly afflicted. O lord, show us grace and do what would be for our good.' Hearing these words of theirs, the Self-born said unto them in reply, 'Here, the god of fire is sitting beside me, Even he will do what is for your benefit.' "'"Agni said, 'Ye sires, when a Sraddha comes, we shall together eat the offerings made to us. If ye eat those offerings with me, ye shall then, without doubt, succeed in digesting them easily.' Hearing these words of the deity of fire, the Pitris became easy of heart. It is for this reason also that in making offerings at Sraddhas a share is first offered to the deity of fire, O king. If a portion of the offerings be first made to the deity of fire at a Sraddha, O prince of men, Rakshasas of regenerate origin cannot then do any injury to such a Sraddha.[414] Beholding the deity of fire at a Sraddha Rakshasas fly away from it. The ritual of the Sraddha is that the cake should first be offered to the (deceased) sire. Next, one should be offered to the grandsire. Next should one be offered to the great-grandsire. Even this is the ordinance in respect of the Sraddha. Over every cake that is offered, the offerer should, with concentrated attention, utter the Savitri Mantras. This other Mantra also should be uttered, viz., unto Soma who is fond of the Pitris. A woman that has become impure in consequence of the advent of her season, or one whose ears have been cut off, should not be allowed to remain where a Sraddha is being performed. Nor should a woman (for cooking the rice to be offered in the Sraddha) be brought from a Gotra other than that of the person who is performing the Sraddha.[414] While crossing river, one should offer oblations of water unto one's Pitris, naming them all. Indeed, when one comes upon a river one should gratify one's Pitris with oblations of water. Having offered oblations of water first unto the ancestors of one's own race, one should next offer such oblations to one's (deceased) friends and relatives. When one crosses a stream on a car unto which is yoked a couple of oxen of variegated hue, or from them that cross a stream on boats, the Pitris expect oblations of water. Those that know this always offer oblations of water with concentrated attention unto the Pitris. Every fortnight on the day of the New moon, one should make offerings unto one's deceased ancestors. Growth, longevity, energy, and prosperity become all attainable through devotion to the Pitris. The Grandsire Brahman, Pulastya, Vasishtha, Pulaha, Angiras, Kratu and the great Rishi Kasyapa--these, O prince of Kuru's race, are regarded as great masters of Yoga. They are numbered among the Pitris. Even this is the high ritual in respect of the Sraddha, O monarch! Through Sraddhas performed on earth the deceased members of one race become freed from a position of misery. I have thus, O prince of Kuru's race, expounded to thee agreeably with the scriptures, the ordinances in respect of Sraddhas. I shall once more discourse to thee on gifts."'" SECTION XCIII "'Yudhishthira said, "If Brahmanas that are in the observance of a vow (viz., fast) eat, at the invitation of a Brahmana, the Havi (offered at a Sraddha), can they be charged with the transgression or a violation of their vow, or should they refuse the invitation of a Brahmana when such invitation is received by them? Tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "Let those Brahmanas eat, impelled by desire, who are observant of such vows as are not indicated in the Vedas. As regards those Brahmanas, however, that are observant of such vows are indicated in the Vedas, they are regarded as guilty of a breach of their vow, O Yudhishthira, by eating the Havi of a Sraddha at the request of him who performs the Sraddha." "'Yudhishthira said, "Some people say that fast is a penance. Is penance really identifiable with fast or is it not so? Tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "People do regard a regular fast for a month or a half month as a penance. The truth, however, is that one who mortifies one's own body is not to be regarded either as an ascetic or as one conversant with duty[415]. Renunciation, however, is regarded as the best of penances. A Brahmana should always be an abstainer from food, and observe the vow called Brahmacharya.[416] A Brahmana should always practise self-denial restraining even speech, and recite the Vedas. The Brahmana should marry and surround himself with children and relatives, from desire of achieving righteousness. He should never sleep. He should abstain from meat. He should always read the Vedas and the scriptures. He should always speak the truth, and practise self-denial. He should eat Vighasa (viz., what remains after serving the deities and guests). Indeed, he should be hospitable towards all that come to his abode. He should always eat Amrita (viz., the food that remains in the house after all the family, including guests and servants have eaten) He should duly observe all rites and perform sacrifices." "'Yudhishthira said, "How may one come to be regarded as always observant of fasts? How may one become observant of vows? How, O king, may one come to be an eater of Vighasa? By doing what may one be said to be found of guest?" "'Bhishma said, "He who takes food only morning and evening at the prescribed hours and abstains from all food during the interval between, is said to be an abstainer from food. He who has congress with only his wedded wife and that only at her season, is said to be observant of the vow of Brahmacharya. By always making gifts, one comes to be regarded as truthful in speech. By abstaining from all meat obtained from animals slaughtered for nothing, one becomes an abstainer from meat.[417] By making gifts one becomes cleansed of all sins, and by abstaining from sleep during daytime one comes to be regarded as always awake. He who always eats what remains after serving the needs of guests and servants is said to always eat Amrita. He who abstains from eating till Brahmanas have eaten (of that food), is regarded as conquering heaven by such abstention. He who eats what remains after serving the deities, the Pitris, and relatives and dependants, is said to eat Vighasa. Such men acquire many regions of felicity in the abode of Brahman himself. There, O king, they dwell in the company of Apsaras and Gandharvas. Indeed, they sport and enjoy all sports of delight in those regions, with the deities and guests and the Pitris in their company, and surrounded by their own children and grandchildren. Even such becomes their high end." "'Yudhishthira said, "People are seen to make diverse kinds of gifts unto the Brahmanas. What, however, is the difference, O grandsire, between the giver and the receiver?" "'Bhishma said, "The Brahmana accepts gifts from him that is righteous, and from him that is unrighteous. If the giver happens to be righteous, the receiver incurs little fault. If on the other hand, the giver happens to be unrighteous the receiver sinks in hell. In this connection is cited an old history of the conversation between Vrishadarbhi and the seven Rishis, O Bharata. Kasyapa and Atri and Vasishtha and Bharadwaja and Gautama and Viswamitra and Jamadagni, and the chaste Arundhati (the wife of Vasishtha), all had a common maidservant whose name was Ganda. A Sudra of the name of Pasusakha married Ganda and became her husband. Kasyapa and others, in days of old, observed the austerest penances and roved over the world, desirous of attaining to the eternal region of Brahman by the aid of Yoga-meditation. About that time, O delighter of the Kurus, there occurred a severe drought. Afflicted by hunger, the whole world of living creatures became exceedingly weak. At a sacrifice which had been performed in former times by Sivi's son he had given away unto the Ritwiks a son of his as the sacrificial present. About this time, unendued with longevity as the prince was, he died of starvation. The Rishis named, afflicted with hunger, approached the dead prince and sat surrounding him. Indeed, those foremost of Rishis, beholding the son of him at whose sacrifice they had officiated, O Bharata, thus dead of starvation, began to cook the body in a vessel, impelled by the pangs of hunger. All food having disappeared from the world of men, those ascetics, desirous of saving their lives, had recourse, for purposes of sustenance, to such a miserable shift. While they were thus employed. Vrishadarbha's son, viz., king Saivya, in course of his roving, came upon those Rishis. Indeed, he met them on his way, engaged in cooking the dead body, impelled by the pangs of hunger. "'"The son of Vrishadarbha said, 'The acceptance of a gift (from me) will immediately relieve you all. Do you, therefore, accept a gift for the support of your bodies! Ye ascetics endued with wealth of penances, listen to me as I declare what wealth I have! That Brahmana who solicits me (for gifts) is ever dear to me. Verily, I shall give unto you a thousand mules. Unto each of you I shall give a thousand kine of white hair, foremost in speed, each accompanied by a bull, and each having a well-born calf, and, therefore, yielding milk. I shall also give unto you a thousand bulls of white complexion and of the best breed and capable of bearing heavy burdens. I shall also give you a large number of kine, of good disposition, the foremost of their kind, all fat, and each of which, having brought forth her first calf, is quick with her second.[418] Tell me what else I shall give of foremost villages, of grain, of barley, and of even the rarer and costly jewels. Do not seek to eat this food that is inedible. Tell me what I should give unto you for the support of your bodies!' "'"The Rishis said, 'O king, an acceptance of gifts from a monarch is very sweet at first but it is poison in the end. Knowing this well, why do you, O king, tempt us then with these offers? The body of the Brahmana is the field of the deities. By penance, it is purified. Then again, by gratifying the Brahmana, one gratifies the deities. If a Brahmana accepts the gifts made to him by the king, he loses, by such acceptance, the merit that he would otherwise acquire by his penances that day. Indeed, such acceptance consumes that merit even as a blazing conflagration consumes a forest. Let happiness be thine, O king, as the result of the gifts thou makest to those that solicit thee!' Saying these words unto them, they left the spot, proceeding by another way. The flesh those high-souled ones had intended to cook remained uncooked. Indeed, abandoning that flesh, they went away, and entered the woods in search of food. After this, the ministers of the king, urged by their master, entered those woods and plucking certain figs endeavoured to give them away unto those Rishis. The officers of the king filled some of those figs with gold and mixing them with others sought to induce those ascetics to accept them. Atri took up some of those figs, and finding them heavy refused to take them. He said, 'We are not destitute of knowledge. We are not fools! We know that there is gold within these figs. We have our senses about us. Indeed, we are awake instead of being asleep. If accepted in this world, those will produce bitter consequence hereafter. He who seeks happiness both here and hereafter should never accept these.' "'"Vasishtha said, 'If we accept even one gold coin, it will be counted as a hundred or even a thousand (in assigning the demerit that attaches to acceptance). If, therefore, we accept many coins, we shall surely attain to an unhappy end hereafter!' "'"Kasyapa said, 'All the paddy and barley on earth, all the gold and animals and women that occur in the world, are incapable of gratifying the desire of a single person. Hence, one possessed of wisdom should dispelling cupidity, adopt tranquillity!' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'The horns of a Ruru, after their first appearance, begin to grow with the growth of the animal. The cupidity of man is even like this. It has no measure!' "'"Gautama said, 'All the objects that exist in the world are incapable of gratifying even a single person. Man is even like the ocean, for he can never be filled (even as the ocean can never be filled by all the waters that are discharged into it by the rivers).' "'"Viswamitra said, 'When one desire cherished by a person becomes gratified, there springs up immediately another whose gratification is sought and which pierces him like a shaft.' "'"Jamadagni said, 'Abstention from accepting gifts supports penances as their foundation. Acceptance, however, destroys that wealth (viz., the merit of penances).' "'"Arundhati said, 'Some people are of opinion that things of the world may be stored with a view to spend them upon the acquisition of righteousness (by gifts and sacrifices). I think, however, that the acquisition of righteousness is better than that of worldly wealth.' "'"Ganda said, 'When these my lords, who are endued with great energy, are so very much afraid of this which seems to be a great terror a weak man as I am fear it the more.' "'"Pasusakha said, 'The wealth there is in righteousness is very superior. There is nothing superior to it. That wealth is known to the Brahmans. I wait upon them as their servant, only for learning to value that wealth.' "'"The Rishis (all together) said, 'Let happiness be his, as the result of the gifts he makes, who is the king of the people of this land. Let his gift be successful who has sent these fruits to us, enclosing gold within them.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, those Rishis of steadfast vows, abandoning the figs having gold within them, left that spot and proceeded to whatever destination they liked. "'"The ministers said, 'O king, coming to know of the existence of gold within the figs, the Rishis have gone away! Let this be known to thee!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by his ministers, king Vrishadarbhi became filled with wrath against all those Rishis. Indeed, to take vengeance upon them, the monarch entered his own chamber. Observing the austerest of penances, he poured on his sacred fire libations of ghee, accompanying each with Mantras uttered by him. From that fire there then arose as the result of the incantation, a form capable of striking every one with fear. Vrishadarbhi named her as Yatudhani. That form which had been from the incantations of the king, looking as terrible as the Last Night, appeared with joined hands before the monarch. Addressing king Vrishadarbhi, she said, 'What shall I accomplish?' "'"Vrishadarbhi said, 'Go and follow the seven Rishis, as also Arundhati, and the husband of their maid-servant, and the maid-servant herself, and comprehend what the meanings are of their names. Having ascertained their names, do thou slay all of them. After slaying them thou mayst go whatever destination thou likest.'"[419] "'Bhishma continued, "Saying, 'So be it!' the Rakshasi who had been named Yatudhani, in her proper form, proceeded to that forest in which the great Rishis wandered in search of food. Indeed, O king, those great Rishis, with Atri among them, roved within the forest, subsisting upon fruits and roots. In course of their wanderings they saw a mendicant of broad shoulders, and plump arms and legs and well-nourished face and abdomen. Of limbs that were all adipose, he was wandering with a dog in his company. Beholding that mendicant whose limbs were all well-developed and handsome, Arundhati exclaimed, addressing the Rishis, 'None of you will ever be able to show such well-developed features!' "'"Vasishtha said, 'The sacred fire of this person is not like ours for while he is able to pour libations on it, morning and evening, none of us are able to do the same. It is for this reason that we see both him and his dog so well-developed.' "'"Atri said, 'This man does not, like us, feel the pangs of hunger. His energy has not sustained, like ours, any diminution. Acquired with the greatest difficulty, his Vedas have not, like ours, disappeared. Hence, it is that we see both him and his dog so well-developed.'[420] "'"Viswamitra said, 'This man is not, like us, unable to observe the eternal duties inculcated in the scriptures. I have become idle. I feel the pangs of hunger. I have lost the knowledge I had acquired. This man is not like us in this respect. Hence I see both him and his dog so well-developed.' "'"Jamadagni said, 'This man has not to think of storing his annual grain and fuel as we are compelled to do. Hence I see both him and his dog so well-developed!' "'"Kasyapa said, 'This man has not, like us, four brothers of the whole blood who are begging from house to house, uttering the words, "Give--Give!" Hence it is that I see him and his dog so well-developed.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'This man hath no regret like ours for having condemned and cursed his spouse. He hath not acted so wickedly and senselessly. Hence I see both him and his dog so well-developed!' "'"Gautama said, 'This man hath not like us only three pieces of covering made of Kusa grass, and a single Ranku-skin, each of which again, is three years old. Hence it is that I see both him and his dog so well-developed!'" "'Bhishma continued, "The wandering mendicant, beholding those great Rishis, approached them, and accosted them all by touching their hand according to the custom. Conversing then with each other about the difficulty of obtaining sustenance in that forest and the consequent necessity of bearing the pangs of hunger, all of them left that spot. Indeed, they wandered through that wilderness, all bent upon a common purpose, viz., the plucking of fruits and the extraction of roots for sustenance. One day, as they were wandering they beheld a beautiful lake overgrown with lotuses. Its banks were covered with trees that stood thickly near one another. The waters of the lake were pure and transparent. Indeed, the lotuses that adorned the lake were all of the hue of the morning sun. The leaves that floated on the water were of the colour of lapis lazuli. Diverse kinds of aquatic fowls were sporting on its bosom. There was but one path leading to it. The banks were not miry and the access to the water was easy. Urged by Vrishadarbhi, the Rakshasi of frightful mien who had sprung from his incantations and who had been named Yatudhani, guarded the lake. Those foremost of Rishis, with Pasusakha in their company, proceeded towards the lake, which was thus guarded by Yatudhani for the object of gathering some lotus stalks.[421] Beholding Yatudhani of frightful aspect standing on the banks of the lake, those great Rishis addressed her, saying, 'Who art thou that thus standest alone in these solitary woods? For whom dost thou wait here? What, indeed, is thy purpose? What dost thou do here on the banks of this lake adorned with lotuses?' "'"Yatudhani said, 'It matters not who I am. I deserve not to be questioned (respecting my name and race and purposes). Ye that are possessed of ascetic wealth, know that I am the guard set to watch this lake.' "'"The Rishis said, 'All of us are hungry. We have nothing else to eat. With thy permission we would gather some lotus-stalks!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'Agreeably with a compact, do ye take the lotus-stalks as ye please. Ye must, one by one, give me your names. Ye may then, without delay, take the stalks!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Ascertaining that her name was Yatudhani and that she stood there for slaying them (after knowing, from the meanings their names, what the extent was of their power), Atri, who was famishing with hunger, addressed her, and said these words.' "'"Atri said, 'I am called Atri because I cleanse the world from sin. For, again, thrice studying the Vedas every day, I have made days of my nights. That, again, is no night in which I have not studied the Vedas. For these reasons also I am called Atri, O beautiful lady!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'O thou of great effulgence, the explanation thou hast given me of thy name is incapable of being comprehended by me. Do thou, therefore, go and plunge into this tank filled with lotuses!' "'"Vasishtha said, 'I am endued with the wealth (that consists of the Yoga attributes of puissance, etc.) I lead, again, a domestic mode of life, and am regarded as the foremost of all persons that lead such a mode of life. In consequence of being endued with (such) wealth, of my living as a householder, and of my being regarded as the foremost of all householders, I am called Vasishtha.' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The etymological explanation of thy name is perfectly incomprehensible to me, in as much as the inflections which the original roots have undergone are unintelligible. Go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Kasyapa said, 'I always protect my body, and in consequence of my penances I have become endued with effulgence. For thus protecting the body and for this effulgence that is due to my penances, I have come to be called by the name of Kasyapa!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'O thou of great effulgence, the etymological explanation thou hast given of thy name is incapable of being comprehended by me. Go and plunge into this lake filled with lotuses!' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'I always support my sons, my disciples, the deities, the Brahmanas, and my wife. In consequence of thus supporting all with ease, I am called Bharadwaja!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The etymological explanation thou hast given me of thy name is perfectly incomprehensible to me, in consequence of the many inflections the root has undergone. Go and plunge into this lake filled with lotuses!' "'"Gotama said, 'I have conquered heaven and earth by the aid of self-restraint. In consequence of my looking upon all creatures and objects with an equal eye, I am like a smokeless fire. Hence I am incapable of being subjugated by thee. When, again, I was born, the effulgence of my body dispelled the surrounding darkness. For these reasons I am called Gotama!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The explanation thou hast given me of thy name, O great ascetic, is incapable of being understood by me. Go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Viswamitra said, 'The deities of the universe are my friends. I am also the friend of the universe. Hence, O Yatudhani, know that I am called Viswamitra!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The explanation thou hast given of thy name is incomprehensible to me in consequence of the inflections the root has undergone. Go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Jamadagni said, 'I have sprung from the sacrificial fire of the deities. Hence am I called Jamadagni, O thou of beautiful features!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The etymological explanation thou hast given me, O great ascetic, of thy name, is incomprehensible to me (in consequence of the diverse inflections the root has undergone). Do thou go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Arundhati said, 'I always stay by the side of my husband, and hold the earth jointly with him. I always incline my husband's heart towards me. I am, for these reasons called Arundhati!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The explanation thou hast given me of thy name is perfectly incomprehensible to me in consequence of the inflections the roots have undergone. Go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Ganda said, 'The Ganda means a portion of the cheek. As I have that portion a little elevated above the others, I am, O thou that hast sprung from the sacrificial fire of Saivya, called by the name of Ganda!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The explanation which thou hast given me of thy name is perfectly incomprehensible to me in consequence of the inflections which the root has undergone. Go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Pasusakha said, 'I protect and tend all animals that I see, and I am always a friend to all animals. Hence am I called Pasusakha, O thou that hast sprung from the (sacrificial) fire (of king Vrishadarbhi).' "'"Yatudhani said, 'The explanation thou hast given me of thy name is perfectly incomprehensible to me in consequence of the inflections which the roots have undergone. Go and plunge into this lake of lotuses!' "'"Sunahsakha said,[422] 'I am incapable of explaining the etymology of my name after the manner of these ascetics. But know, O Yatudhani, that I am called by the name of Sunahsakha!' "'"Yatudhani said, 'Thou hast mentioned thy name only once. The explanation thou hast offered I have not able to catch. Do thou, therefore, mention it again, O regenerate one!' "'"Sunahsakha said, 'Since thou hast been unable to catch my name in consequence of my having mentioned it only once, I shall strike thee with my triple stick! Struck with it, be thou consumed into ashes without delay!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Struck then, on the head, by the Sannyasin, with his triple stick which resembled the chastisement inflicted by a Brahmana, the Rakshasi who had sprung from the incantations of king Vrishadarbhi fell down on the earth and became reduced to ashes.[423] Having thus destroyed the mighty Rakshasi, Sunahsakha thrust his stick into the earth and sat himself down on a grassy plot of land. The Rishis then, having, as they liked, plucked a number of lotuses and taken up a number of lotus-stalks, came up from the lake, filled with joy. Throwing on the ground the heap of lotuses which they had gathered with much toil, they plunged once more into it for offering oblations of water to the Pitris. Coming up, they proceeded to that part of the bank where they had deposited the lotus-stalks. Reaching that spot, those foremost of men found that the stalks were nowhere to be seen. "'"The Rishis said, 'What sinful and hard-hearted man has stolen away the lotus-stalks gathered by our hungry selves from desire of eating?'" "'Bhishma continued, "Those foremost of regenerate persons, suspecting one another, O crusher of foes, said, 'We shall each have to swear to our innocence!' All those ascetics then, famishing with hunger and worn out with exertion, agreeing to the proposal, took these oaths. "'"Atri said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalk touch kine with his foot, make water facing the sun, and study the Vedas on excluded days!' "'"Vasishtha said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks abstain from studying the Vedas, or leash hounds, or be a wandering mendicant unrestrained by the ordinances laid down for that mode of life, or be a slayer of persons that seek his protection, or live upon the proceeds of the sale of his daughter, or solicit wealth from those that are low and vile!' "'"Kasyapa said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks utter all kinds of words in all places, give false evidence in a court of law, eat the flesh of animals not slain in sacrifices, make gifts to undeserving persons or to deserving persons at unseasonable times, and have sexual congress with women during daytime!' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks be cruel and unrighteous in his conduct towards women and kinsmen and kine. Let him humiliate Brahmanas, in disputations, by displaying his superior knowledge and skill. Let him study the Riks and the Yajuses, disregarding his preceptor! Let him pour libations upon fires made with dry grass or straw!'[424] "'"Jamadagni said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks be guilty of throwing filth and dirt on water. Let him be inspired with animosity towards kine. Let him be guilty of having sexual congress with women at times other than their season. Let him incur the aversion of all persons. Let him derive his maintenance from the earnings of his wife! Let him have no friends and let him have many foes! Let him be another's guest for receiving in return those acts of hospitality which he has done to that other![425]' "'"Gotama said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks be guilty of throwing away the Vedas after having studied them! Let him cast off the three sacred fires! Let him be a seller of the Soma (plant or juice)! Let him live with that Brahmana who resides in a village which has only one well from which water is drawn by all classes and who has married a Sudra woman!' "'"Viswamitra said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks be fated to see his preceptors and seniors and his servants maintained by others during his own life-time. Let him not have a good end. Let him be the father of many children! Let him be always impure and a wretch among Brahmanas! Let him be proud of his possessions! Let him be a tiller of the soil and let him be filled with malice! Let him wander in the season of rains. Let him be a paid servant! Let him be the priest of the king! Let him assist at the sacrifices of such impure persons as do not deserve to be assisted at their sacrifices!' "'"Arundhati said, 'Let her who has stolen the lotus-stalks always humiliate her mother-in-law! Let her be always vexed with her husband! Let her eat whatever good things come to her house without sharing them with others! Disregarding the kinsmen of her lord, let her live in her husband's house and eat, at the day's close, the flour of fried barely! Let her come to be regarded as unenjoyable (in consequence of the stains that would tarnish her)! Let her be the mother of a heroic son![426]' "'"Ganda said, 'Let her who has stolen the lotus-stalks be always a speaker of falsehoods! Let her always quarrel with her kinsmen! Let her bestow her daughter in marriage for a pecuniary consideration! Let her eat the food which she has cooked, alone and without sharing it with anybody! Let her pass her whole life in slavery! Indeed, let her who has stolen the lotus-stalks be quick with child in consequence of sexual congress under circumstances of guilt.' "'"Pasusakha said, 'Let him who has stolen the lotus-stalks be born of a slave-mother. Let him have many children all of whom are worthless! And let him never bow to the deities.' "'"Sunahsakha said, 'Let him who has removed the lotus-stalks obtain the merit of bestowing his daughter in marriage upon a Brahmana, who has studied all the Samans and the Yajuses and who has carefully observed the vow of Brahmacharya. Let him perform the final ablutions after having studied all the Atharvans!' "'"All the Rishis said, 'The oath thou hast taken is no oath at all, for all the acts which thou hast mentioned are very desirable for the Brahmanas! It is evident, O Sunahsakha, that thou hast appropriated our lotus-stalks!' "'"Sunahsakha said, 'The lotus stalks deposited by you not being seen, what you say is perfectly true, for it is I who have actually stolen them. In the very sight of all of you I have caused the disappearance of those stalks! Ye sinless ones, the act was done by me from desire of testing you! I came hither for protecting you. That woman who lies slain there was called Yatudhani. She was of a fierce disposition. Sprung from the incantations of king Vrishadarbhi, she had come here from the desire of slaying all of you! You ascetics endued with wealth of penances, egged on by that king, she had come, but I have slain her. That wicked and sinful creature, sprung from the sacrificial fire, would otherwise have taken your lives. It was for killing her and saving you that I came here, ye learned Brahmanas! Know that I am Vasava! Ye have completely freed yourselves from the influence of cupidity. In consequence of this, ye have won many eternal regions fraught with the fruition of every wish as soon as it rises in the heart! Do ye rise, without delay, from this place and repair to those regions of beatitude, ye regenerate ones, that are reserved for you!'" "'Bhishma continued, "The great Rishis, highly gratified at this, replied unto Purandara, saying, 'So be it!' They then ascended to heaven in company of Indra himself. Even thus, those high-souled persons, though famishing with hunger and though tempted at such a time with the offer of diverse kinds of enjoyable articles, refrained from yielding to temptation. As the result of such self-denial, they attained to heaven. It seems, therefore, that one should, under all circumstances, cast off cupidity from oneself. Even this, O king, is the highest duty. Cupidity should be cast off. The man who recites this account (of the deeds of the righteous Rishis) in assemblies of men, succeeds in acquiring wealth. Such a man has never to attain to a distressful end. The Pitris, the Rishis, and the deities become all pleased with him. Hereafter, again, he becomes endued with fame and religious merit and wealth!"'" SECTION XCIV "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old history of the oaths (taken by many Rishis one after another) on the occasion of a sojourn to the sacred waters. O best of the Bharatas, the act of theft had been done by Indra, and the oaths were taken by many royal and regenerate Rishis. Once on a time, the Rishis, having assembled together, proceeded to the western Prabhasa. They held a consultation there which resulted in a resolve on their part to visit all the sacred waters on earth. There were Sakra and Angiras and Kavi of great learning and Agastya and Narada and Pravata; and Bhrigu and Vasishtha and Kasyapa and Gautama and Viswamitra and Jamadagni, O king! There were also the Rishi Galava, and Ashtaka and Bharadwaja and Arundhati and the Valakhilyas; and Sivi and Dilipa and Nahusha and Amvarisha and the royal Yayati and Dhundhumara and Puru. These foremost of men, placing the high-souled Satakratu, the slayer of Vritra, at their head, went to all the sacred waters one after another, and at last reached the highly sacred Kausiki on the day of the full moon in the month of Magha. Having cleansed themselves of all sins by ablutions performed in all the sacred waters, they at last proceeded to the very sacred Brahmasara. Bathing in that lake, those Rishis endued with energy like that of fire began to gather and eat the stalks of the lotus. Amongst those Brahmanas, some had extracted the stalks of the lotus and some the stalks of the Nymphoea stellata. Soon they found that the stalks extracted by Agastya (and deposited on the bank) had been taken away by somebody. The foremost of Rishis, Agastya, addressing them all, said, 'Who has taken away the good stalks which I had extracted and deposited here? I suspect some one amongst you must have done the act. Let him who has taken them away give them back to me. It behoves you not thus to misappropriate my stalks! It is heard that Time assails the energy of Righteousness. That Time has come upon us. Hence, Righteousness is afflicted. It is meet that I should go to heaven for good, before unrighteousness assails the world and establishes itself here![427] Before the time comes when Brahmanas, loudly uttering the holy Vedas, within the precincts of villages and inhabited places, cause the Sudras to hear them, before the time comes when kings often against the rules of Righteousness from motives of policy, I shall go to heaven for good! Before men cease to regard the distinctions between the lower, the middle, and the higher classes, I shall go to heaven for good. Before Ignorance assails the world and envelops all things in darkness, I shall go to heaven for good.[428] Before the time comes when the strong begin to lord it over the weak and treat them as slaves, I shall go to heaven for good. Indeed, I dare not remain on earth for witnessing these things.' The Rishis, much concerned at what he said, addressed that great ascetic and said, 'We have not stolen thy stalks! Thou shouldst not harbour these suspicions against us. O great Rishi, we shall take the most frightful oaths!' Having said these words, conscious of their own innocence, and desirous of upholding the cause of righteousness, those Rishis and sages of royal descent then began to swear, one after another, the following oaths. "'"Bhrigu said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks censure when censured, assail when assailed, and eat the flesh that is attached to the back-bone of animals (slaughtered in sacrifice)!'[429] "'"Vasishtha said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks neglect his Vedic studies, leash hounds, and having taken himself to the mendicant order live in a city or town!'[430] "'"Kasyapa said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks sell all things in all places, misappropriate deposits, and give false evidence!' "'"Gautama said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks live, displaying pride in all things, with an understanding that does not see all creatures with an equal eye, and always yielding himself to the influence of desire and wrath! Let him be a cultivator of the soil, and let him be inspired by malice!'[431] "'"Angiras said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be always impure! Let him be a censurable Brahmana (for his misdeeds)! Let him leash hounds. Let him be guilty of Brahmanicide. Let him be averse to expiations after having committed transgressions!' "'"Dhundhumara said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be ungrateful to his friends! Let him take birth in a Sudra woman! Let him eat alone any good food (coming to the house), without sharing it with others!'[432] "'"Dilipa said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks descend to those regions of misery and infamy which are reserved for that Brahmana who resides in a village having but one well and who has sexual congress with a Sudra woman!'[433] "'"Puru said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks adopt the occupation of a physician! Let him be supported by the earnings of his wife! Let him draw his sustenance from his father-in-law!' "'"Sukra said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks eat the flesh of animals not slain in sacrifices! Let him have sexual congress at day-time! Let him be a servant of the king!' "'"Jamadagni said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks study the Vedas on forbidden days or occasions! Let him feed friends at Sraddhas performed by him! Let him eat at the Sraddha of a Sudra!' "'"Sivi said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks die without having established a fire (for daily worship)! Let him be guilty of obstructing the performance of sacrifices by others! Let him quarrel with those that are observant of penances!' "'"Yayati said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be guilty of having sexual congress with his wife when she is not in her season and when he is himself in the observance of a vow and bears matted locks on his head! Let him also disregard the Vedas!' "'"Nahusha said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks live in domesticity after having betaken himself to the vow of mendicancy! Let him act in whatever way he pleases (and without restraint of any kind), after having undergone the initiatory rites in view of a sacrifice or some solemn observance! Let him take pecuniary gratification for prelections to disciples (on any branch of knowledge that the latter come to learn)!' "'"Amvarisha said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be cruel and unrighteous in his behaviour towards women and kinsmen and kine! Let him be guilty also of Brahmanicide!' "'"Narada said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be one that identifies the body with the soul! Let him study the scriptures with a preceptor that is censurable! Let him chant the Vedas, offending at each step against the rules of orthoepy! Let him disregard all his seniors!' "'"Nabhaga said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks always speak false-hoods and quarrel with those that are righteous! Let him bestow his daughter in marriage after accepting a pecuniary gratification offered by his son-in-law!' "'"Kavi said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks he guilty of striking a cow with his foot! Let him make water, facing the sun! Let him cast off the person that seeks shelter at his hands!' "'"Viswamitra said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks become a servant that behaves with deceit towards his master! Let him be the priest of a king! Let him be the Ritwik of one that should not be assisted at his sacrifices!' "'"Parvata said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be the chief of a village! Let him make journeys on asses! Let him leash hounds for a living!' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be guilty of all the demerits that become his who is cruel in his behaviour and untruthful in speech!' "'"Ashtaka said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be a king destitute of wisdom capricious and sinful in his behaviour, and disposed to rule the Earth unrighteously!' "'"Galava said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be more infamous than a sinful man! Let him be sinful in his acts towards his kinsmen and relatives! Let him proclaim the gifts he makes to others!' "'"Arundhati said, 'Let her who has stolen thy stalks speak ill of her mother-in-law! Let her feel disgust for her lord. Let her eat alone any good food that comes to her house!' "'"The Valakhilyas said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks stand on one foot at the entrance of a village (for earning his subsistence)! Let him. while knowing all duties, be guilty of every breach!'[434] "'"Sunahsakha said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be a Brahmana that sleeps in happiness, having disregarded his daily Homa! Let him, after becoming a religious mendicant, behave in whatever way he pleases, without observing any restraint!' "'"Surabhi said, 'Let her who has stolen thy stalks be milked, with her (hind) legs bound with a rope of human hair, and with the aid of a calf not her own, and, while milked, let her milk be held in a vessel of white brass!'"[435] "'Bhishma continued, "After the Rishis and the royal sages had sworn these diverse oaths, O Kuru king, the thousand-eyed chief of the deities, filled with joy, cast his looks on the angered Rishi Agastya. Addressing the Rishi who was very angry at the disappearance of his lotus-stalks, Maghavat thus declared what was passing in his mind. Hear, O king, what the words were that Indra spoke in the midst of those regenerate and celestial Rishis and royal sages. "'"Sakra said, 'Let him who has stolen thy stalks be possessed of the merit of him who bestows his daughter in marriage upon a Brahmana that has duly observed the vow of Brahmacharya or that has duly studied the Samans and the Yajuses! Let him also have the merit of one that undergoes the final bath after completing one's study of the Atharva Veda! Let him who has stolen thy stalks have the merit of having studied all the Vedas. Let him be observant of all duties and righteous in his behaviour! Indeed, let him go to the region of Brahman!' "'"Agastya said, 'Thou hast, O slayer of Vala, uttered a benediction instead of a curse! (It is evident), thou hast taken my stalks! Give them to me, for that is the eternal duty!' "'"Indra said, 'O holy one, I did not remove thy stalks, led by cupidity! Indeed, I removed them from desire of hearing this conclave recite what the duties are that we should observe. It behoveth thee not to give way to anger! Duties are the foremost of Srutis. Duties constitute the eternal path (for crossing the sea of the world)! I have listened to this discourse of the Rishis (on duties) that is eternal and immutable, and that transcends all change![436] Do thou then, O foremost of learned Brahmanas, take back these stalks of thine! O holy one, it behoves thee to forgive my transgression, O thou that art free from every fault!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the chief of the deities, the ascetic, viz., Agastya, who had been very angry, took back his stalks. Endued with great intelligence, the Rishi became cheerful. After this, those denizens of the woods proceeded to diverse other sacred waters. Indeed, repairing to those sacred waters they performed their ablutions everywhere. The man who reads this narrative with close attention on every Parva day, will not have to become the progenitor of an ignorant and wicked son. He will never be destitute of learning. No calamity will ever touch him. He will, besides, be free from every kind of sorrow. Decrepitude and decay will never be his. Freed from stains and evil of every kind, and endued with merit, he is sure to attain to Heaven. He who studies this Sastra observed by the Rishis, is sure, O prince of men, to attain to the eternal region of Brahman that is full of felicity!"'"[437] SECTION XCV "'Yudhishthira said, "O chief of Bharata's race, by whom was the custom of giving umbrellas and sandals at obsequial ceremonies introduced? Why was it introduced and for what purpose are those gifts made? They are given not only at obsequial ceremonies but also at other religious rites. They are given on many occasions with a view to acquiring religious merit. I wish to know, in detail, O regenerate one, the true meaning of this custom!" "'Bhishma said, "Do thou, O prince, attentively listen to the details I shall recite in respect of the custom of giving away umbrellas and shoes at religious rites, and as to how and by whom it was introduced. I shall also tell thee in full, O prince, how it acquired the force of a permanent observance and how it came to be viewed as a meritorious act. I shall, in this connection, recite the narrative of the discourse between Jamadagni and the high-souled Surya. In ancient times, the illustrious Jamadagni, O puissant king, of Bhrigu's race, was engaged in practising with his bow. Taking his aim, he shot arrow after arrow. His wife Renuka used to pick up the shafts when shot and repeatedly bring them back to that descendant, endued with blazing energy, of Bhrigu's race. Pleased with the whizzing noise of his arrows and the twang of his bow, he amused himself thus by repeatedly discharging his arrows which Renuka brought back into him. One day, at noontide, O monarch, in that month when the sun was in Jyesthamula, the Brahmana, having discharged all his arrows, said to Renuka, 'O large-eyed lady, go and fetch me the shafts I have shot from my bow, O thou of beautiful eye-brows! I shall again shoot them with my bow.' The lady proceeded on her errand but was compelled to sit under the shade of a tree, in consequence of her head and feet being scorched by the heat of the sun. The black-eyed and graceful Renuka, having rested for only a moment, feared the curse of her husband and, therefore, addressed herself again to the task of collecting and bringing back the arrows. Taking them with her, the celebrated lady of graceful features came back, distressed in mind and her feet smarting with pain. Trembling with fear, she approached her husband. The Rishi, filled with wrath, repeatedly addressed his fair-faced spouse, saying, 'O Renuka, why hast thou been so late in returning?' "'"Renuka said, 'O thou that art endued with wealth of penances, my head and feet were scorched by the rays of the sun! Oppressed by the heat, I had betaken myself to the shade of a tree! Just this has been the cause of the delay! Informed of the cause, do thou, O lord, cease to be angry with me!' "'"Jamadagni said, 'O Renuka, this very day shall I destroy, with the fiery energy of my weapons, the star of day with his blazing rays, that has afflicted thee in this way!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Drawing his celestial bow, and taking up many arrows, Jamadagni stood, turning his face towards the sun and watching him as he moved (in his diurnal course). Then, O son of Kunti, beholding him addressed for fight, Surya approached him in the guise of a Brahmana, and said unto him. 'What has Surya done to displease thee? Coursing through the firmament, he draws up the moisture from the earth, and in the form of rains he pours it down once more on her. It is through this, O regenerate one, that the food of human beings springs up,--food that is so agreeable to them! The Vedas say that it is food that constitutes the life-breaths. O Brahmana, hidden in the clouds and encompassed by his rays, the sun drenches the seven islands with showers of rain. O puissant one, the moisture, thus poured, diffusing itself into the leaves and fruits of vegetables and herbs, is transformed into food. O son of Bhrigu, the rites of nativity, religious observances of every kind, investiture with the sacred thread, gifts of kine, weddings, all articles in view of sacrifices, the rules for the governance of men, gifts, all sorts of union (between man and man), and the acquisition of wealth, have their origin in food! Thou knowest this well! All the good and agreeable things in the universe, and all the efforts made by living creatures, flow from food. I duly recite what is well-known to thee! Indeed, thou fully knowest all that I have said! Do thou, therefore, O regenerate Rishi, appease thy anger! What wilt thou gain by annihilating the sun?'"'" SECTION XCVI "'Yudhishthira said, "What did that foremost of ascetics, viz., Jamadagni endued with great energy, do when thus besought by the maker of day?" "'Bhishma said, "O descendant of Kuru, despite all the supplications of Surya, the sage Jamadagni, endued with the effulgence of fire, continued to cherish his anger. Then, O king, Surya, in the guise of a Brahmana, bowed his head unto him and addressed him, with folded hands, in these soft words, 'O regenerate Rishi, the sun is always in motion! How shalt thou pierce the Lord of day who is continually moving forward?' "'"Jamadagni said, 'With the eye of knowledge I know thee to be both moving and motionless! I shall surely read thee a lesson this day. At midday thou seemest to stay in the heavens for a moment. It is then, O Surya, that I shall pierce thee with my arrows! There is no swerving from this my resolution!' "'"Surya said, 'O regenerate Rishi, without doubt, thou knowest me, O best of archers! But, O holy one, though I have offended, behold, I am a suppliant for thy protection!'" "'Bhishma continued, "At this, the adorable Jamadagni smilingly addressed the maker of day, saying, 'O Surya, when thou hast sought my protection, thou hast nothing to fear! He would transcend the simplicity that exists in Brahmanas, the stability that exists in the Earth, the mildness existing in the Moon, the gravity existing in Varuna, the effulgence existing in Agni, the brightness of Meru, and the heat of the sun, who would slay a suppliant for protection! The man that can slay a suppliant is capable of violating the bed of his preceptor, of slaying a Brahmana, and of drinking alcohol. Do thou, therefore, think of some remedy for this evil, by which people may be relieved when heated by thy rays!'" "'Bhishma continued, "So saying, that excellent descendant of Bhrigu remained silent for a while, and Surya forthwith made over to him an umbrella and a pair of sandals. "'"Surya said, 'Do thou, O great Rishi, take this umbrella wherewith the head may be protected and my rays warded off. This pair of sandals is made of leather for the protection of the feet. From this day forth the gift of these articles in all religious rites shall be established as an inflexible usage!'" "'Bhishma continued, "This custom of giving umbrellas and shoes was introduced by Surya! O descendant of Bharata, these gifts are considered meritorious in the three worlds. Do thou, therefore, give away umbrellas and shoes to Brahmanas. I have no doubt that thou shalt then acquire great religious merit by the act. O foremost one of Bharata's race, he who gives away a white umbrella with a hundred ribs to a Brahmana, attains to eternal felicity after death and resides in the region of Indra, respected by Brahmanas, Apsaras, and Devas. O puissant one, he who gives shoes to Snataka Brahmanas as also to Brahmanas practising the rites of religion whose feet have become sore with the heat of the sun, attains to regions coveted by the very deities. Such a man, O Bharata, dwells in happiness in the highest Heaven after his death. O foremost one of Bharata's race, I have thus recited to thee in full, the merits of giving away shoes and umbrellas at religious ceremonies!"'" SECTION XCVII "'Yudhishthira said, "O foremost one of Bharata's race, do thou relate to me all the duties of the household mode and tell me all that a man should do in order to attain to prosperity in this world." "'Bhishma said, "O Bharata, I shall, in this connection, recite to thee the old story of Vasudeva and the goddess Earth. The puissant Vasudeva, O excellent prince of Bharata's race, after hymning the praises of the goddess Earth, questioned her about this very topic that thou hast enquired about. "'"Vasudeva said, 'Having adopted the state of a householder, what acts should I, or one like me, perform and how are such acts to fructify in good?' "'"The goddess Earth said, 'O Madhava, the Rishis, the deities, the Pitris, and men should be worshipped, and sacrifices should be performed, by a householder. Do thou also learn this from me that the deities are always pleased with sacrifices, and men are gratified with hospitality. Therefore, the householder should gratify them with such objects as they desire. By such acts, O slayer of Madhu, the Rishis also are gratified. The householder, abstaining from food, should daily attend to his sacred fire and to his sacrificial offerings. The deities, O slayer of Madhu, are gratified with such acts. The householder should daily offer oblations of food and water, or of fruits, roots and water, for the gratification of the Pitris, and the Vaiswadeva offering should be performed with rice boiled, and oblations of clarified butter unto Agni, Soma, and Dhanwantari. He should offer separate and distinct oblations unto Prajapati. He should make sacrificial offerings in due order; to Yama in the Southern region, to Varuna in Western region, to Soma in the Northern region, to Prajapati within the homestead, to Dhanwantari in the North-eastern region, and to Indra in the Eastern region. He should offer food to men at the entrance of his house. These, O Madhava, are known as the Vali offerings. The Vali should be offered to the Maruts and the deities in the interior of one's house. To the Viswedevas it should be offered in open air, and to the Rakshasas and spirits the offerings should be made at night. After making these offerings, the householder should make offerings unto Brahmanas, and if no Brahmana be present, the first portion of the food should be thrown into the fire. When a man desires to offer Sraddha to his ancestors, he should, when the Sraddha ceremony is concluded, gratify his ancestors and then make the Vali offerings in due order. He should then make offerings unto the Viswedevas. He should next invite Brahmanas and then properly regale guests arrived at his house, with food. By this act, O prince, are guests gratified. He who does not stay in the house long, or, having come, goes away after a short time, is called a guest. To his preceptor, to his father, to his friend and to a guest, a householder should say, "I have got this in my house to offer thee today!" And he should offer it accordingly every day. The householder should do whatever they would ask him to do. This is the established usage. The householder, O Krishna, should take his food last of all after having offered food to all of them. The householder should worship, with offerings of Madhuparka his king, his priest, his preceptor, and his father-in-law as also Snataka Brahmanas even if they were to stay in his house for a whole year. In the morning as well as in the evening, food should be offered on the ground to dogs, Swapachas,[438] and birds. This is called the Vaiswadeva offering. The householder, who performs these ceremonies with a mind unclouded by passion, obtains the blessings of the Rishis in this world, and after death attains to the heavenly regions.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The puissant Vasudeva, having listened to all this from the goddess Earth, acted accordingly. Do thou also act in the same way. By performing these duties of a householder, O king, thou shalt acquire fame in this world and attain to heaven after death!"'" SECTION XCVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Of what kind is the gift of light, O chief of Bharata's race? How did this gift originate? What are the merits that attach to it? Do thou tell me all this." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O Bharata, is recited the old narrative of the discourse between Manu, that lord of creatures, and Suvarna. There was in days of yore an ascetic, O Bharata, of the name of Suvarna. His complexion was like that of gold and hence he was called Suvarna (the gold-complexioned). Endued with a pure lineage, good behaviour, and excellent accomplishments, he had mastered all the Vedas. Indeed, by the accomplishments he possessed, he succeeded in surpassing many persons of high lineage. One day that learned Brahmana saw Manu, the lord of all creatures, and approached him. Meeting with each other, they made the usual enquiries of politeness. Both of them were firm in the observance of truth. They sat down on the delightful breast of Meru, that mountain of gold. Seated there they began to converse with each other on diverse subjects connected with the high-souled deities and regenerate Rishis and Daityas of ancient times. Then Suvarna, addressing the Self-born Manu, said these words, 'It behoveth thee to answer one question of mine for the benefit of all creatures. O lord of all creatures, the deities are seen to be worshipped with presents of flowers and other good scents. What is this? How has this practice been originated? What also are the merits that attach to it? Do thou discourse to me on this topic.' "'"Manu said, 'In this connection is recited the old history of the discourse between Sukra and the high-souled (Daitya) Vali. Once on a time, Sukra of Bhrigu's race approached the presence of Vali, the son of Virochana, while he was ruling the three worlds. The chief of the Asuras, that giver of sacrificial presents in abundance, having worshipped the descendant of Bhrigu with the Arghya (and offering him a seat), sat down after his guest had seated himself. This very topic that thou hast stated relating to the merits attaching to the gift of flowers and incense and lamps, came up on the occasion. Indeed, the chief of the Daityas put this high question to Sukra, that most learned of all ascetics. "'"'Vali said, "O foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma, what, indeed, is the merit of giving flowers and incense and lamps? It behoveth thee, O foremost of Brahmanas, to discourse to me on this." "'"'Sukra said, "Penance first sprang into life. Afterwards came Dharma (or compassion and other virtues). In the interval between started into life many creepers and herbs.[439] Innumerable were the species of those. All of them have (the deity) Soma for their lord. Some of these creepers and herbs came to be regarded as Amrita and some came to be regarded as Poison. Others that were neither this nor that formed one class. That is Amrita which gives immediate gratification and joy to the mind. That is Poison which tortures the mind exceedingly by its odour. Know again that Amrita is highly auspicious and that Poison is highly inauspicious. All the (deciduous) herbs are Amrita. Poison is born of the energy of fire. Flowers gladden the mind and confer prosperity. Hence, men of righteous deeds bestowed the name Sumanas on them. That man who in a state of purity offers flowers into the deities finds that the deities become gratified with him, and as the consequence of such gratification bestow prosperity upon him. O ruler of the Daityas, those deities unto whom worshippers offer flowers, O lord, uttering their names the while, become gratified with the offers in consequence of their devotion. The (deciduous) herbs are of diverse kinds and possess diverse kinds of energy. They should be classed as fierce, mild, and powerful. Listen to me as I tell thee which trees are useful for purposes of sacrifice and which are not so. Hear also what garlands are acceptable to Asuras, and what are beneficial when offered to the deities. I shall also set forth in their due order what garlands are agreeable to the Rakshasas, what to the Uragas, what to the Yakshas, what to human beings, and what to the Pitris, in proper order. Flowers are of diverse kinds. Some are wild; some are from trees that grew in the midst of human habitations; some belong to trees that never grow unless planted on well-tilled soil; some are from trees growing on mountains; some are from trees that are not prickly; and some from trees that are prickly. Fragrance, beauty of form, and taste also may offer grounds of classification. The scent that flowers yield is of two kinds, agreeable and disagreeable. Those flowers that emit agreeable scent should be offered to the deities. The flowers of trees that are destitute of thorns are generally white in hue. Such flowers are always acceptable to the deities, O lord! One possessed of wisdom should offer garlands of aquatic flowers, such as the lotus and the like, unto the Gandharvas and Nagas and Yakshas. Such plants and herbs as produce red flowers, as are possessed of keen scent, and as are prickly, have been laid down in the Atharvana as fit for all acts of incantation for injuring foes. Such flowers as are possessed of keen energy, as are painful to the touch, as grow on trees and plants having thorns, and as are either bloody-red or black, should be offered to (evil) spirits and unearthly beings. Such flowers as gladden the mind and heart, as are very agreeable when pressed, and as are of beautiful form, have been said, O lord, to be worthy of being offered to human beings. Such flowers as grow on cemeteries and crematoria, or in places dedicated to the deities, should not be brought and used for marriage and other rites having growth and prosperity for their object, or for acts of dalliance and pleasure in secrecy. Such flowers as are born on mountains and in vales, and as are agreeable in scent and aspect, should be offered unto the deities. Sprinkling them with sandal-paste, such agreeable flowers should be duly offered according to the ordinances of the scriptures. The deities become gratified with the scent of flowers; the Yakshas and Rakshasas with their sight, the Nagas with their touch; and human beings with all three, viz., scent, sight, and touch. Flowers, when offered to the deities gratify them immediately. They are capable of accomplishing every object by merely wishing its accomplishment. As such, when gratified with devotees offering them flowers, they cause all the objects cherished by their worshippers to be immediately accomplished. Gratified, they gratify their worshippers. Honoured, they cause their worshippers to enjoy all honours. Disregarded and insulted, they cause those vilest of men to be ruined and consumed. I shall, after this, speak to thee of the merits that attach to the ordinances about the gift of incense. Know, O prince of Asuras, that incenses are of diverse kinds. Some of them are auspicious and some inauspicious. Some incenses consist of exudations. Some are made of fragrant wood set on fire. And some are artificial, being made by the hand, of diverse articles mixed together. Their scent is of two kinds, viz., agreeable and disagreeable. Listen to me as I discourse on the subject in detail.[440] All exudations except that of the Boswellia serrata are agreeable to the deities. It is, however, certain that the best of all exudations is that of the Balsamodendron Mukul. Of all Dhupas of the Sari class, the Aquilaria Agallocha is the best. It is very agreeable to the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, and Nagas. The exudation of the Boswellia serrata, and others of the same class, are much desired by the Daityas. Dhupas made of the exudation of the Shorea robusta and the Pinus deodara, mixed with various spirits of strong scent, are, O king, ordained for human beings. Such Dhupas are said to immediately gratify the deities, the Danavas, and spirits. Besides these, there are many other kinds of Dhupas used by men of purposes of pleasure or enjoyment. All the merits that have been spoken of as attaching to the offer of flowers should be known equally to attach to the gift of such Dhupas as are productive of gratification. I shall now speak of the merits that attach to the gift of lights, and who may give them at what time and in what manner, and what should be the kind of lights that should be offered. Light is said to be energy and fame and has an upward motion. Hence the gift of light, which is energy, enhances the energy of men[441]. There is a hell of the name of Andhatamas. The period also of the sun's southward course is regarded as dark. For escaping that hell and the darkness of this period, one should give lights during the period when the sun is in his northward course. Such an act is applauded by the good.[442] Since, again, light has an upward course and is regarded as a remedy for darkness, therefore, one should be a giver of light. Even this is the conclusion of the scriptures. It is owing to the lights offered that the deities have become endued with beauty, energy, and resplendence. By abstention from such an act, the Rakshasas have become endued with the opposite attributes. Hence, one should always give lights. By giving lights a man becomes endued with keen vision and resplendence. One that gives lights should not be an object of jealousy with others. Lights, again, should not be stolen, nor extinguished when given by others. One that steals a light becomes blind. Such a man has to grope through darkness (in the next world) and becomes destitute of resplendence. One that gives lights shines in beauty in the celestial regions like a row of lights. Among lights, the best are those in which ghee is burnt. Next in order are those in which the juice of (the fruits yielded by) deciduous herbs is burnt. One desirous of advancement and growth should never burn (for light) fat or marrow or the juice that flows from the bones of creatures.[443] The man who desires his own advancement and prosperity should always give lights at descents from mountains, in roads through forests and inaccessible regions, under sacred trees standing in the midst of human habitations, and in crossings of streets. The man who gives lights always illumines his race, attains to purity of soul and effulgence of form. Verily, such a man, after death, attains to the companionship of the luminous bodies in the firmament. I shall now discourse to thee upon the merits, with the fruits they bring about, that attach to Vali offerings made to the deities, the Yakshas, the Uragas, human beings, spirits, and Rakshasas. Those unscrupulous and wicked men that eat without first serving Brahmanas and deities and guests and children, should be known as Rakshasas. Hence, one should first offer the food one has got ready unto the deities after having worshipped them duly with restrained senses and concentrated attention. One should offer the Vali unto the deities, bending one's head in reverence. The deities are always supported by food that householders offer. Verily, they bless such houses in which offerings are made to them. The Yakshas and Rakshasas and Pannagas, as also guests and all homeless persons, are supported by the food that are offered by persons leading the domestic mode of life. Indeed, the deities and the Pitris derive their sustenance from such offerings. Gratified with such offerings they gratify the offerer in return with longevity and fame and wealth. Clean food, of agreeable scent and appearance, mixed with milk and curds, should, along with flowers, be offered to the deities. The Valis that should be offered to Yakshas and Rakshasas should be rich with blood and meat, with wines and spirits accompanying, and adorned with coatings of fried paddy.[444] Valis mixed with lotuses and Utpalas are very agreeable to the Nagas. Sesame seeds, boiled in raw sugar, should be offered to the spirits and other unearthly Beings. He who never takes any food without first serving therefrom the Brahmanas and deities and guests, becomes entitled to first portions of food. Such a man becomes endued with strength and energy. Hence, one should never take any food without first offering a portion thereof to the deities after worshipping them with reverence. One's house always blazes forth with beauty in consequence of the household deities that live in it. Hence, he that desires his own advancement and prosperity should worship the household deities by offering them the first portion of every food."' Even thus did the learned Kavi of Bhrigu's race discourse to Vali, the chief of the Asuras. That discourse was next recited by Manu unto the Rishi Suvarna. Suvarna, in his turn, recited it to Narada. The celestial Rishi Narada recited unto me the merits that attach to the several acts mentioned. Informed of those merits, do thou, O son, perform the several acts mentioned!"'" SECTION XCIX "'Yudhishthira said, "I have, O chief of the Bharatas, heard what the merits are that are won by presenters of flowers and incense and lights. I have heard thee speak also of the merits that attach to a due observance of the ordinances in respect of the presentation of the Vali. It behoveth thee, O grandsire, to discourse unto me once more on this subject. Indeed, tell me, O sire, once more of the merits of presenting incense and lights. Why are Valis offered on the ground by persons leading the domestic mode of life?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is recited the old narrative of the discourse between Nahusha and Agastya and Bhrigu. The royal sage Nahusha, O monarch, possessed of wealth of penances, acquired the sovereignty of Heaven by his own good deeds. With restrained senses, O king, he dwelt in Heaven, engaged in doing diverse acts of both human and celestial nature. From that high-souled monarch flowed diverse kinds of human acts and diverse kinds of celestial acts also, O chief of men. The diverse rites with respect to the sacrificial fire, the collection of sacred fuel and of Kusa grass, as also of flowers, and the presentation of Vali consisting of food adorned with fried paddy (reduced to powder), and the offer of incense and of light,--all these, O monarch, occurred daily in the abode of that high-souled king while he dwelt in heaven. Indeed, though dwelling in heaven, he performed the sacrifice of Japa (or silent recitation) and the sacrifice of meditation. And, O chastiser of foes, Nahusha, although he had become the chief of the deities, yet worshipped all the deities, as he used to do in days of yore, with due rites and ceremonies. Some time after, Nahusha realised his position as the chief of all the deities. This filled him with pride. From that time all his acts (of the kind spoken of) were suspended. Filled with arrogance in consequence of the boon he had received from all the deities, Nahusha caused the very Rishis to bear him on their shoulders. In consequence, however, of his abstention from all religious acts, his energy began to sustain a diminution. The time was very long for which Nahusha filled with pride, continued to employ the foremost of Rishis, possessed of wealth of penances, as the bearers of his vehicles. He caused the Rishis to discharge by turns his humiliating work. The day came when it was Agastya's turn to bear the vehicles, O Bharata. At that time, Bhrigu, that foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma, repaired to the presence of Agastya while the latter was seated in his asylum, and addressing him, said, 'O great ascetic, why should we patiently put up with such indignity inflicted on us by this wicked-souled Nahusha who has become the chief of the deities?' "'"Agastya said, 'How can I succeed in cursing Nahusha, O great Rishi? It is known to thee how the boon-giving (Brahman) himself has given Nahusha the best of boons! Coming to heaven, the boon that Nahusha solicited was that whoever would come within the range of his vision would, deprived of all energy, come within his sway. The self-born Brahman granted him even this boon, and it is for that reason that neither thyself nor I have been able to consume him. Without doubt, it is for this reason that none else amongst the foremost of Rishis has been able to consume or hurl him down from his high position. Formerly, O Lord, nectar was given by Brahman to Nahusha for quaffing. For that reason also we have become powerless against him. The supreme deity, it seems, gave that boon to Nahusha for plunging all creatures into grief. That wretch among men behaves most unrighteously towards the Brahmanas. O foremost of all speakers, do thou tell us what should be done in view of the situation. Without doubt, I shall do what thou wilt advise.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'It is at the command of the Grandsire that I have come to thee with the view of counteracting the puissance of Nahusha who is possessed of great energy but who has been stupefied by fate. That exceedingly wicked-souled wight who has become the chief of the deities will today yoke thee to his car. With the aid of my energy I shall today hurl him down from his position as Indra in consequence of his having transcended all restraints! I shall today, in thy very sight, re-establish the true Indra in his position--him, viz., who has performed a hundred horse-sacrifices,--having hurled the wicked-souled and sinful Nahusha from that seat! That unrighteous chief of the deities will today insult thee by a kick, in consequence of his understanding being afflicted by fate and for bringing about his own downfall. Incensed at such an insult I shall today curse that sinful wretch, that enemy of the Brahmanas, that has transcended all restraints, saying, "Be thou transformed into a snake!" In thy very sight, O great ascetic, I shall today hurl down on the earth the wicked-souled Nahusha who shall be deprived of all energy in consequence of the cries of "Fie" that will be uttered from all sides.[445] Verily, I shall hurl down Nahusha today, that wight of unrighteous deeds, who has, besides, been stupefied by lordship and power. I shall do this, if it be acceptable to thee, O ascetic!' Thus addressed by Bhrigu, Mitravaruna's son Agastya of unfading puissance and glory, became highly gratified and freed from every anxiety."'" SECTION C "'Yudhishthira said, "How was Nahusha plunged into distress? How was he hurled down on the earth? How, indeed, was he deprived of the sovereignty of the gods? It behoveth thee to recite everything to me." "'Bhishma said, "Even thus did those two Rishis, viz., Bhrigu and Agastya, converse with each other. I have already told thee how Nahusha, when he first became the chief of the gods, acted in a becoming way. Verily, all acts of human and celestial nature flowed from that high souled royal sage! The offering of light, and all other rites of a similar kind, the due presentation of Valis, and all rites as are performed on especially sacred days,--all these were properly observed by the high-souled Nahusha who had become the sovereign of the deities.[446] Pious acts are always observed by those that are possessed of wisdom, in both the world of men and that of the deities. Verily, O foremost of kings, if such acts are observed, householders always succeed in acquiring prosperity and advancement. Even such is the effect of the gift of lamps and of incense, as also of bows and prostrations, to the deities. When food is cooked, the first portion thereof should be offered to a Brahmana. The particular offerings called Vali should also be presented to the household deities. The deities become gratified with such gifts.[447] It is also well-known that the measure of gratification which the deities derive from such offerings is a hundred times as great as that which the householder himself derives from making them. Persons endued with piety and wisdom make offerings of incense and lights, accompanying them with bows and prostrations. Such acts are always fraught with advancement and prosperity to those that do them. Those rites which the learned go through in course of their ablutions, and with the aid of waters, accompanied with bows unto the gods, always contribute to the gratification of the gods. When worshipped with proper rites, the highly blessed Pitris, Rishis possessed of wealth of asceticism, and the household deities, all become gratified. Filled with such ideas, Nahusha, that great king, when he obtained the sovereignty of the deities, observed all these rites and duties fraught with great glory. Some time after the good fortune of Nahusha waned, and as the consequence thereof, he disregarded all these observances and began to act in defiance of all restraints in the manner I have already adverted to. The chief of the deities, in consequence of his abstention from observing the ordinances about the offers of incense and light, began to decline in energy. His sacrificial rites and presents were obstructed by Rakshasas. It was at this time that Nahusha yoked that foremost of Rishis, viz., Agastya, to his car. Endued with great strength, Nahusha, smiling the while, set that great Rishi quickly to the task, commanding him to bear the vehicle from the banks of the Saraswati (to the place he would indicate). At this time, Bhrigu, endued with great energy, addressed the son of Mitravaruna, saying, 'Do thou close thy eyes till I enter into the matted locks on thy head.' Having said this, Bhrigu of unfading glory and mighty energy entered into the matted locks of Agastya who stood still like a wooden post for hurling king Nahusha from the throne of Heaven. Soon after Nahusha saw Agastya approach him for bearing his vehicle. Beholding the lord of the deities Agastya addressed him, saying, 'Do thou yoke me to thy vehicle without delay. To what region shall I bear thee? O lord of the deities, I shall bear thee to the spot which thou mayst be pleased to direct.' Thus addressed by him, Nahusha caused the ascetic to be yoked to his vehicle. Bhrigu, who was staying within the matted locks of Agastya, became highly pleased at this act of Nahusha. He took care not to cast his eyes upon Nahusha. Fully acquainted with the energy which the illustrious Nahusha had acquired in consequence of the boon which Brahman had granted him, Bhrigu conducted himself in this way. Agastya also, though treated by Nahusha in this way, did not give way to wrath. Then, O Bharata, king Nahusha urged Agastya on with his goad. The righteous-souled Rishi did not still give way to anger. The lord of the deities, himself giving way to anger, then struck Agastya on the head with his left foot. When the Rishi was thus struck on the head, Bhrigu, who was staying within Agastya's matted locks, became incensed and cursed Nahusha of sinful soul, saying, 'Since thou hast struck with thy foot on the head of this great Rishi, do thou, therefore, fall down on the earth, transformed into a snake, O wretch of wicked understanding!' Thus cursed by Bhrigu who had not been seen, Nahusha immediately became transformed into a snake and fell down on the earth, O chief of Bharata's race! If O monarch, Nahusha had seen Bhrigu, the latter would not then have succeeded, by his energy, in hurling the former down on the earth. In consequence of the various gifts that Nahusha had made, as also his penances and religious observances though hurled down on the earth, O king, he succeeded in retaining his memory. He then began to propitiate Bhrigu with a view to the working out of the curse. Agastya also, filled with compassion, joined Nahusha in pacifying Bhrigu for bringing about an end of the curse. At last Bhrigu felt compassion for Nahusha and provided for the working out of the curse. "'"Bhrigu said, 'There will appear a king (on earth) of the name of Yudhishthira, the foremost of his race. He will rescue thee from this curse.' Having said this, the Rishi vanished in the very sight of Nahusha. Agastya also, of mighty energy, having thus accomplished the business of the true Indra, that performer of a hundred sacrifices, returned to his own asylum, worshipped by all members of the regenerate order. Thou hast, O king, rescued Nahusha from Bhrigu's curse. Verily, rescued by thee, he ascended to the region of Brahman in thy sight. As regards Bhrigu, having hurled Nahusha on the earth, he went to the region of Brahman and informed the Grandsire of it. The Grandsire, having called Indra back, addressed the deities, saying. 'Ye deities, through the boon I had granted him, Nahusha had obtained the sovereignty of heaven. Deprived, however, of that sovereignty by the enraged Agastya, he has been hurled on the earth. Ye deities, ye will not succeed in living without a chief. Do ye, therefore, once more install Indra in the sovereignty of Heaven.' Unto the Grandsire, O son of Pritha, who said so unto them, the deities filled with joy, replied, saying, 'So be it!' The divine Brahman then, O best of monarchs, installed Indra in the sovereignty of heaven. Made once more the chief of the deities, Vasava began to shine in beauty and resplendence. Even this is what occurred in days of yore through the transgression of Nahusha. In consequence, however, of the merits he had acquired through acts of the kind I have mentioned Nahusha succeeded in once more regaining his lost position. Hence, when evening comes, persons leading the domestic mode of life should give lights. The giver of lights is sure to acquire celestial sight after death. Verily, givers of light become as resplendent as the full moon. The giver of lights becomes endued with beauty of form and strength for as many years as correspond with the number of twinkles for which the lights given by him burn or blaze."'"[448] SECTION CI "'Yudhishthira said, "Where do those foolish, wretched, and sinful men go, O chief of men, that steal or misappropriate such articles as belong to Brahmanas?" "'Bhishma said, "I shall, in this connection, O Bharata, recite to thee the old narrative of a conversation between a Chandala and a low Kshatriya.[449] "'"The person of the royal order said, 'Thou seemest, O Chandala, to be old in years, but thy conduct seems to be like that of a boy! Thy body is besmeared with the dust raised by dogs and asses, but without minding that dust thou art anxious about the little drops of vine milk that have fallen upon thy body! It is plain that such acts as are censured by the pious are ordained for the Chandala. Why, indeed, dost thou seek to wash off the spots of milk from thy body?'[450] "'"The Chandala said, 'Formerly, O king, certain kine belonging to Brahmana were stolen. While they were being carried away, some milk from their udders fell upon a number of Soma plants that grew by the roadside. Those Brahmanas that drank the juice of the plants thus bedewed with milk, as also the king who performed the sacrifice in which that Soma was drunk, had to sink in hell. Indeed, for having thus appropriated some thing that had belonged to a Brahmana, the king with all the Brahmanas that had assisted him had to go to hell. All those men also, Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, that drank milk or ghee or curds, in the palace of the king who had stolen the Brahmana's kine, had to fall into hell. The stolen kine also, shaking their bodies, slew with their milk the sons and grandsons of those that had stolen them, as also the king and the queen although the latter treated the animals with great care and attention. As regards myself, O king, I used to live in the observance of the vow of Brahmacharya in that place where these kine were placed after they had been stolen away. The food I had obtained by begging became sprinkled over with the milk of those kine. Having taken that food, O thou of the royal order, I have, in this life, become a Chandala. The king who had stolen the kine belonging to a Brahmana obtained an infamous end. Hence, one should never steal or appropriate anything that belongs to a Brahmana. Behold to what state I am reduced in consequence of my having eaten food that had been sprinkled over with milk belonging to a Brahmana! It is for this reason that Soma plants become unsaleable by a person possessed of wisdom. They who sell the Soma plant are censured by the wise. Indeed, O son, they who purchase Soma and they who sell it, both sink in the hell called Raurava when, departing from this world, they repair to the region of Yama. That man who, possessing a knowledge of the Vedas, duly sells Soma, becomes in his next life a usurer and quickly meets with destruction. For three hundred times he has to sink into hell and become transformed into an animal that subsists upon human ordure. Serving a person that is vile and low, pride, and rape upon a friend's wife, if weighed against one another in a balance, would show that pride, which transcends all restraints, is the heaviest. Behold this dog, so sinful and disagreeably pale and lean! (He was a human being in his former life). It is through pride that living creatures attain to such a miserable end. As regards myself, I was born in a large family, in a former birth of mine, O lord, and I was a thorough master of all branches of knowledge and all the sciences. I knew the gravity of all these faults, but influenced by pride, I became blinded and ate the meat attached to the vertebral columns of animals. In consequence of such conduct and such food, I have come to this state. Behold the reverses brought about by Time! Like a person whose cloth has taken fire at one end, or who is pursued by bees, behold, I am running, penetrated with fear, and smeared with dust! They that lead the domestic mode of life are rescued from all sins by a study of the Vedas, as also by gifts of other kinds, as declared by the wise.[451] O thou of the royal order, a Brahmana that is sinful in conduct, becomes rescued from all his sins by the study of the Vedas if he betakes himself to the forest mode of life and abstains from attachment of every kind. O chief of Kshatriyas, I am in this life, born in a sinful order! I fail to see clearly how I may succeed in cleansing myself from all sins. In consequence of some meritorious act of a former life, I have not lost the memory of my previous lives. O king, I throw myself on the mercy! I ask thee! Do thou resolve my doubt. By what auspicious course of conduct should I wish to achieve my emancipation? O foremost of men, by what means shall I succeed in getting rid of my status as a Chandala?' "'"The person of the royal order said, 'Know, O Chandala, the means by which thou mayst be able to attain to emancipation. By casting off thy life-breaths for the sake of a Brahmana thou mayst attain a desirable end! By throwing thy body on the fire of battle as a libation to the beasts and birds of prey for the sake of a Brahmana, indeed, by casting off thy life-breaths thus, thou mayst achieve emancipation! By no other means wilt thou succeed in achieving it!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, that Chandala, O scorcher of foes, poured his life-breaths as a libation on the fire of battle for the sake of protecting a Brahmana's wealth and as the consequence of that act attained to a very desirable end. Hence, O son, thou shouldst always protect the property of the Brahmanas, if, O chief of Bharata's race, thou desirest, O thou of mighty arms, an end that is eternal felicity!"'" SECTION CII "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, it has been said that all pious men attain to the same region after death. Is it true, O Bharata, that there is difference of position or status among them?" "'Bhishma said, "By different deeds, O son of Pritha, men attain to different regions. They who are righteous in conduct attain to regions of felicity, while they who are sinful attain to regions that are fraught with misery. In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse, O son, between the ascetic Gautama and Vasava. A certain Brahmana of the name of Gautama, mild and self-restrained and with all his senses under complete control, beheld an infant elephant that had lost his mother and that was exceedingly cheerless on that account. Full of compassion and steady in the observance of his vows, the ascetic nursed that infant animal. After a long time the little beast grew up into a large and mighty elephant. One day, Indra, assuming the form of king Dhritarashtra, seized that mighty elephant which was as huge as a hill and from whose rent temples the juice was trickling down. Beholding the elephant dragged away, the great ascetic Gautama of rigid vows addressed king Dhritarashtra and said, 'O ungrateful Dhritarashtra, do not rob me of this elephant. It is looked upon by me as a son and I have reared it with much pain. It is said that between the righteous, friendship springs up if only they exchange seven words.[452] Thou shouldst see, O king, that the sin of injuring a friend does not touch thee! It behoveth thee not, O king, to take away by force this elephant that brings me my fuel and water, that protects my asylum when I am away, that is exceedingly docile and obedient to his instructor, that is mindful of doing all the offices that his preceptor commands, that is mild and well-broken, and that is grateful and very dear to me! Indeed, thou shouldst not bear it away, disregarding my protestations and cries!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'I shall give thee a thousand kine, a hundred maid-servants, and five hundred pieces of gold. I shall also, O great Rishi, give thee diverse other kinds of wealth. What use can Brahmanas have with elephants?' "'"Gautama said, 'Keep, O king, thy kine and maid-servants and coins of gold and various gems and diverse other kinds of wealth! What, O monarch, have Brahmanas to do with wealth?' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Brahmana, have no use for elephants. Verily, O learned Brahmana, elephants are meant for persons of the royal order. In taking away an animal, viz., this foremost of elephants, for my use as vehicle, I cannot be regarded as committing any sin. Do thou cease obstructing me in this way, O Gautama!' "'"Gautama said, 'O illustrious king, repairing even to that region of Yama where the righteous live in joy and the sinful in grief, I shall take from thee this my elephant!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'They that are destitute of (religious) acts, they that have no faith and are atheists, they that are of sinful souls and are always engaged in gratifying their senses, only they have to go to the region of Yama and endure the misery he inflicts. Dhritarashtra shall go to a higher region, and not thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'The region of Yama is such that men are there controlled. No untruth can be told there. Only truth prevails in that place. There the weak persecute the strong. Repairing thither I shall force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Only those persons, that intoxicated with pride, conduct themselves towards their eldest sister and father and mother as towards foes, have to repair, O great ascetic, to such a region. I shall repair to a higher region. Indeed, Dhritarashtra shall not have to go thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'The region, called Mandakini, of king Vaisravana is attained by those highly blessed persons for whom are every joy and comfort. There Gandharvas and Yakshas and Apsaras live (gladdening all the denizens with enchanting dances and music). Repairing even thither, O king, I shall force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those persons who regard hospitality to guests as a vow, who are observant of good vows (having other objects), who give shelter to Brahmanas, and who eat what remains after distribution among all those that are dependent upon them, adorn the region called Mandakini of Kuvera. (I shall not go thither, for a higher region is reserved for me)!' "'"Gautama said, 'If thou repairest to those delightful woods decked with flowers, that stand on the summit of Meru, that echo with melodious voice of Kinnaris, and that are graced with beautiful Jamvus of wide-spreading branches, I shall proceed even thither and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those Brahmanas that are endued with mild dispositions, that are devoted to truth, that are possessed of great learning in the scriptures, that are compassionate unto all creatures, that study the Puranas with all the histories, that pour libations on the sacred fire and make gifts of honey unto the Brahmanas, repair to such regions, O great Rishi! I shall repair to a region that is higher. Indeed Dhritarashtra shall not go thither. If thou art acquainted with any other well-known region of felicity, speak unto me, for I shall repair even thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'If thou proceedest to the woods owned by Narada and held dear by him, that are adorned with flowers and that echo with the melodious songs of the prince of Kinnaras, and that are the eternal abode of Gandharvas and Apsaras, I shall follow thee thither and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'They who never solicit alms, they who cultivate music and dancing, and always rove about in joy, proceed to such regions. O great Rishi, I shall repair to a region that is higher. Indeed, Dhritarashtra shall not have to go thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'If thou goest to that region where the Uttara-Kurus blaze in beauty and pass their days in gladness, O king, in the company of the very deities, where those beings that have their origin in fire, those that have their origin in water, and those having their origin in mountains, reside in happiness, and where Sakra raineth down the fruition of every wish, and where women live in perfect freedom, unrestrained by rules of any kind regulating their conduct or motions, and where there is no feeling of jealousy between the sexes,--if thou repairest thither, even thither shall I proceed and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those men that are freed from desire with respect to all articles of enjoyment, that abstain from meat, that never take up the rod of chastisement, and never inflict the least harm on mobile and immobile creatures, that have constituted themselves the soul of all creatures, that are entirely freed from the idea of meum, that have cast off attachments of every kind, that regard gain and loss as also praise and blame as equal,--only those men, O great Rishi, repair to such regions. I shall repair to a higher region. Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'Next to these blaze in beauty those eternal regions, redolent with excellent perfumes, that are free from passions of every kind and that are destitute of sorrow. These constitute the abode of the high-souled king Soma. If thou repairest thither, even thither shall I proceed and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those men that always make gifts without receiving any gift, who never accept any service from others, who own nothing which they cannot give to a deserving person, who are hospitable to all creatures, who are inclined to show grace to every one, who are endued with forgiving dispositions, who never speak ill of others, who protect all creatures by throwing over them the shroud of compassion, and who are always righteous in their behaviour,--only those men, O great Rishi, proceed to such regions. I shall proceed to a higher region. Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go there!' "'"Gautama said, 'Next to these blaze in beauty other regions that are eternal, free from passion and darkness and sorrow, and that lie at the foot of the high-souled deity of the Sun. If thou repairest thither, even thither shall I go and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those men that are attentive to the study of the Vedas, that are devoted to the service of their preceptors, that are observant of penances and excellent vows, that are firm in truth, that never utter anything that smacks of disobedience or enmity to their preceptors, that are always alert, and ever ready in service of seniors and preceptors,--they repair, O great Rishi, to such regions, they that are pure (of mind and body), that are endued with cleansed souls, that are of restrained speech, that are firm in truth, and that are well-versed in the Vedas. I shall proceed to a higher region! Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'Next to those are the eternal regions that blaze in beauty, that are redolent with excellent perfumes, that are free from passion, and that are free from every sorrow. They constitute the abode of the high-souled king Varuna. If thou proceedest thither, even thither shall I go and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those men who worship the deities by observing the vow called Chaturmasya, that perform a hundred and ten sacrifices, that pour libations every day on their sacred fire with devotion and faith for three years agreeably with the ordinances declared in the Vedas, that bear without flinching the burden of all duties, that walk steadily along the way trod by the righteous, that steadily sustain the course of conduct followed by the righteous-souled,--only they repair to such regions. I shall repair to a higher region. Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go thither!' "'"Gautama said, 'Above them are the regions of Indra, free from passion and sorrow, that are difficult of access and coveted by all men. Proceeding even to the abode of Indra himself of mighty energy, I shall, O king, force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'He who lives for a hundred years, who is endued with heroism, who studies the Vedas, and who performs sacrifices with devotion, verily, such men proceed to the region of Sakra. I shall repair to a higher region. Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go there!' "'"Gautama said, 'Above the Heavens are the regions of the Prajapatis of superior felicity abounding in every happiness, and divested of sorrow. Belonging to those puissant ones from whom the creation has sprung, they are coveted by all persons. If thou repairest thither, even thither shall I go and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those kings that have bathed upon the completion of the Rajasuya sacrifice, that are endued with righteous souls, that have protected their subjects properly, and that have washed their limbs with sanctified water upon the completion of the horse-sacrifice, repair to such regions. Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go there!' "'"Gautama said, 'Next to those, blaze in beauty those eternal regions, redolent with delicious perfumes, free from passion, and transcending all sorrow. Those are the regions of kine difficult of attainment where oppression can never be. If thou repairest thither, I shall proceed even thither and force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'He who, owning thousand kine, gives away a hundred kine every year, or owning a hundred kine gives away ten every year to the best of his might, or owning only ten or even five kine gives away therefrom one cow, and they who attain to a mature old age practising the vows of Brahmacharya all their days, who obey the declarations of the Vedas, and who, endued with energy of mind, betake themselves to pilgrimages to sacred waters and shrines, dwell in felicity in the region of kine. They who repair to Prabhasa and Manasa, the lakes of Pushkara, the large lake called Mahatsara, the sacred woods of Naimisha, Vahuda, Karatoya, Ganga, Gayasiras, Vipasa, Sthulavaluka, Krishna, the five rivers (of the Punjab), the extensive lake called Mahahrada, Gomati, Kausiki, Champa, Saraswati, Drisadwati, and Yamuna,--indeed, those illustrious Brahmanas, steady in the observance of vows, who go to these sacred waters,--repair to the regions of which thou speakest. Endued with celestial bodies and adorned with celestial garlands those blessed individuals, always emitting the most delightful perfumes, repair to those regions of joy and gladness. Verily, Dhritarashtra shall not go there!' "'"Gautama said, 'Next to these are regions where there is no fear of the least cold or heat, no hunger, no thirst, no pain, no sorrow, no joy, no one that is agreeable or disagreeable, no friend, and no enemy: where decrepitude and death are not, and where there is neither righteousness nor sin. Proceeding even to that region which is freed from passion, which abounds with equable happiness, and where there is wisdom and the attribute of Sattwa,--verily, proceeding to even that sacred abode of the self-born Brahman,--I shall force thee to yield up this elephant to me!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'They who are freed from all attachments, who are possessed of cleansed souls, who are steady in the observance of the foremost vows, who are devoted to the Yoga that depends on tranquillising the mind, and who have (in this life) attained to the happiness of heaven,--those persons wedded to the attribute of Sattwa--attain to the sacred region of Brahman. O great ascetic, thou shalt not be able to discover Dhritarashtra there!' "'"Gautama said, 'There where the foremost of Rathantaras is sung, where altars are strewn with the sacred Kusa blades, for the performance of Pundarika sacrifices, there where Soma-drinking Brahmanas go on vehicles drawn by excellent steeds,[453] proceeding even thither I shall force thee to yield up this elephant. I think, thou art the slayer of Vritra, viz., the deity that has performed a hundred sacrifices, engaged in roving through all the regions of the universe! I hope, I have not, through mental weakness (not recognising thee before) committed any fault by the words I have addressed thee!' "'"The deity of a hundred sacrifices said, 'Yes, I am Maghavat. I came to the world of human beings, for seizing this elephant. I bow to thee. Do thou command me! I shall readily accomplish all that thou mayst be pleased to say!' "'"Gautama said, 'Do thou give me, O chief of the deities, this elephant that is of white complexion and that is so young, for it is only ten years of age. I have brought it up as a child of my own. Dwelling in these woods, it has grown under my eye and has been to me a dear companion. Do thou set free this my child that thou hast seized and wishest to drag away!' "'"The deity of a hundred sacrifices said, 'This elephant that has been a son to thee, O foremost of Brahmanas, cometh to thee looking wishfully at thee! Behold, it sniffs thy feet with its nostrils! My salutations to thee! Do thou pray for my welfare!' "'"Gautama said, 'O chief of the deities, I do always think of thy good! I always offer thee worship! Do thou also, O Sakra, bestow thy blessings on me! Given by thee, I accept this elephant!' "'"The deity of a hundred sacrifices said, 'Amongst all those high-souled and foremost of Rishis that firmly adhere to truth and that have the Vedas planted in their heart, thou alone hast been able to recognise me. For this reason I am exceedingly pleased with thee! Do thou, therefore, O Brahmana, come with me quickly, accompanied by this thy son! Thou deservest to attain to diverse regions of great felicity without the delay of even a single day!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, the wielder of the thunderbolt, taking Gautama with him and placing him before, along with his son, viz., that elephant, proceeded to heaven, that is difficult of attainment by even the righteous. He who would listen to this history every day or would recite it, restraining his senses the while, proceedeth (after death) to the region of Brahman even as Gautama himself."'" SECTION CIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast discoursed to us on diverse kinds of gift, on tranquillity of soul, on Truth, on compassion, on contentment with one's wedded wife, and the merits of gift. It is known to thee, O grandsire, that there is nothing whose puissance is superior to that of penances. It behoveth thee to expound to us what constitutes the highest penances." "'Bhishma said, "I tell thee, O Yudhishthira, that one attains to a region of felicity that corresponds with the kind of penances that one observes. This is what I hold, O son of Kunti, that there is no penance that is superior to abstention from food! In this connection is recited the ancient narrative of the discourse between Bhagiratha and the illustrious Brahman (the Grandsire of the Creation). It has been heard by us, O Bharata, that Bhagiratha attained to that region which transcends that of the deities, of kine, and of the Rishis. Beholding this, O monarch, the Grandsire Brahman, addressing Bhagiratha, said, 'How, O Bhagiratha, hast thou attained to this region that is so difficult of attainment? Neither the deities, nor Gandharvas, nor human beings, O Bhagiratha succeed in coming here without having practised the severest austerities. How, indeed, hast thou attained to this region?' "'"Bhagiratha said, 'I used to make gifts of hundreds of thousands of gold coin unto the Brahmanas, observing the Brahmacharya vow all the while, it is not through the merit on those gifts, O learned one, that I have attained to this region. I performed the Ekaratra sacrifice for ten times, and the Pancharatra sacrifice for as many times. The Ekadasaratra sacrifice was performed by me eleven times. The great sacrifice of Jyotishtoma was performed by me a hundred times. It is not, however, through the merits of those sacrifices that I have attained to this region of felicity.[454] For a hundred years I lived continuously by the side of the holy Jahnavi, all the while practising the severest austerities. There I made gifts unto the Brahmanas of thousands of male and female slaves. By the side of the Pushkara lakes I made gifts unto the Brahmanas, for a hundred thousand times, a hundred thousand steeds, and two hundred thousand kine. I also gave away a thousand damsels of great beauty, each adorned with golden moons, and sixty thousand more decked with ornaments of pure gold. It is not, however, through the merits of those acts that I have succeeded in attaining to these regions.[455] O lord of the universe, performing those sacrifices known by the name of Gosava, I gave away ten Arvudas of kine, presenting each Brahmana with ten kine, each of whom was accompanied with her calf, each of whom yielded milk at the time, and with each of whom were given a vessel of gold and one of white brass for milking her. Performing many Soma sacrifices, I gave away unto each Brahmana ten kine each of whom yielded milk, and each of whom had brought forth only her first calf, besides making presents unto them of hundreds of kine belonging to that species which is known by the name of Rohini. I also gave away unto the Brahmanas twice ten Prayutas of other kine, all yielding milk. It is not through the merit of those gifts, O Brahman, that I have succeeded in attaining to this region of felicity. I also gave away a hundred thousand horses of the Valhika breed, all white of complexion, and adorned with garlands of gold. It is not, however, through the merits of those acts that I have attained to this region. I gave away eight crores of golden coins unto the Brahmanas, O Brahman, and then another ten crores also, in each sacrifice that I performed. It is not, however, through the merits of those acts that I have attained to this region of felicity. I also gave away ten and then seven crores of steeds, O Grandsire, each of green complexion, each having ears that were dark, and each adorned with garlands of gold. I also gave away ten and seven thousand elephants of huge size, of teeth as large as plough-shares, each having those whorls on its body which are called Padmas, and each adorned with garlands of gold. I gave away ten thousand cars, O Grandsire, whose limbs were made of gold, and which were adorned with diverse ornaments of gold. I also gave away seven thousand other cars with steeds yoked unto each. All the steeds that were yoked unto them were adorned with ornaments of gold. Those cars represented the Dakshinas of a sacrifice and were of exactly that kind which is indicated in the Vedas. In the ten great Vajapeya sacrifices that I performed, I gave away a thousand horses each endued with the puissance of Indra himself, judged by their prowess and the sacrifices they had performed. Spending a vast sum of money, O Grandsire, and performing eight Rajasuya sacrifices, I gave away (unto the Brahmanas that officiated in them) a thousand kings whose necks were adorned with garlands of gold, after having vanquished them in battle. It is not, however, through the merits of those acts that I have attained to this region. In those sacrifices, O Lord of the universe, the presents that flowed from me were as copious as the stream of Ganga herself. Unto each Brahmana I gave two thousand elephants decked with gold, as many steeds adorned with golden ornaments, and a hundred villages of the best kind. Verily, I gave these unto each Brahmana for three times in succession. Observant of penances, subsisting on regulated diet, adopting tranquillity of soul, and restraining speech, I dwelt for a long time on the breast of Himavat by the side of that Ganga whose irresistible current (as it fell from heaven) was borne by Mahadeva on his head. It is not through the merit of these acts, O Grandsire, that I have attained to this region. Throwing the Sami, I adored the gods in myriads of such sacrifices as are completed in course of a single day, and such others as take twelve days for completing, and others still as can be completed in three and ten days, besides many Pundarikas. I have not attained to this region through the merits of any of those sacrifices.[456] I gave unto the Brahmanas eight thousand white-complexioned bulls, each graced with a beautiful hump, and each having one of its horns covered with gold. Unto them I also gave beautiful wives whose necks were adorned with chains of gold. I also gave away large heaps of gold and wealth of other kinds. Verily, I gave away hills of gems and precious stones. Villages, numbering by thousands and teeming with wealth and corn, were also given away by me. With all my senses about me, I gave away unto the Brahmanas a hundred thousand kine each of whom had brought forth only her first calf, at many great sacrifices which I performed. It is not, however, through the merits of those acts that I have attained to this region. I adored the deities in a sacrifice that is completed in eleven days. Twice I adored them in sacrifices that are completed in twelve days. I adored them also many a time in the horse-sacrifices. Six and ten times I performed the Arkayana sacrifice. It is not through the merits of those acts that I have attained to this region. I also gave unto each Brahmana a forest of Kanchana trees extending for a Yojana on every side, and with each tree adorned with jewels and gems. It is not through the merits of that act that I have attained to this region. For thirty years, with heart perfectly freed from wrath, I observed the Turayana vow that is possessed of very superior merit, and gave away unto the Brahmanas every day nine hundred kine. Indeed, O Lord of the universe, every one of those kine belonged to the Rohini species, and yielded milk at the time I gave them away. It is not through the merits of those acts, O chief of the deities, that I have attained to this region. I worshipped thirty fires, O Brahmana, every day. I adored the deities in eight sacrifices in which the fat of all animals was poured on the fire. I adored them in seven sacrifices in which the fat of human beings was poured on the fire. I adored them in a thousand and twenty-eight Viswajit sacrifices. It is not through the merits of those sacrifices O Lord of all the deities, that I have attained to this region. On the banks of Sarayu and Vahuda and Ganga as also in the woods of Naimisha, I gave away millions of kine unto the Brahmanas. It is not through the merits of those acts that I have attained to this region. The vow of fast had been known to Indra. He had, however, kept it a secret. Sukra, the descendant of Bhrigu, obtained a knowledge of it by means of spiritual sight acquired through penances. Blazing with energy as he does, it is Usanas who first made it known to the universe. I observed that vow, O boon giving Deity! When I accomplished that very superior vow, the Brahmanas became all gratified with me. A thousand Rishis came thither. All those Brahmanas and Rishis, O puissant lord, gratified with me, said, "Do thou repair to the region of Brahman!" It is in consequence of the merits of that vow that I have succeeded in attaining to this region of very superior felicity. There is no doubt in this. Asked by the Supreme Ordainer of all things, I have duly expounded the merits of the vow of fast. In my opinion, there is no penance higher than fast. I vow to thee, O foremost of all the deities! Be thou propitious unto me!'" "'Bhishma continued, "King Bhagiratha, who had said so and who deserved every honour was on the conclusion of his speech, honoured by Brahman according to the rites ordained for that purpose. Do thou, therefore, O Yudhishthira, observe the vow of fast and worship the Brahmanas every day. The words uttered by Brahmanas can accomplish everything both here and hereafter. Indeed, the Brahmanas should ever be gratified with gifts of robes, food and white complexioned kine and good dwelling houses and mansions. The very deities should gratify the Brahmanas. Freeing thyself from cupidity, do thou practise this vow of very superior merit that is not known to all!"'" SECTION CIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Man, it is said, is endued with a period of life extending for a hundred years, and with energy and might that are considerable. Why then, O grandsire, do human beings die even when they are very young? By what does a man become endued with longevity, and by what is his life shortened? Through what does a man acquire the fame that rests upon great achievements? Through what does one attain to wealth and prosperity? Is it by penances, or Brahmacharya, or silent recitation of sacred Mantras, or drugs? Is it by his acts, or speech? Do thou explain to me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "I shall tell thee what thou askest me. In fact, I shall tell thee what the reason is for which one becomes shortlived, and what the reason is for which one becomes endued with longevity. I shall also explain to thee the reason for which one succeeds in acquiring the fame that rests on great achievements, and the reason for which one succeeds in acquiring wealth and prosperity. Indeed, I shall enlighten thee as to the manner in which one must live in order to be endued with all that is beneficial for him. It is by conduct that one acquires longevity, and it is by conduct that one acquires wealth and prosperity. Indeed, it is by conduct that one acquires the fame that rests upon great achievements both here and hereafter. The man whose conduct is improper or wicked never acquires a long life. All creatures become afraid of such a man and are oppressed by him. If, therefore, one wishes one's own advancement and prosperity, one should, in this world, betake to conduct that is proper and good. Good conduct succeeds in dispelling the inauspiciousness and misery of even one that is sinful.[457] Righteousness has conduct for its indication. They that are good and righteous are so in consequence of the conduct they follow. The indications, again, of good conduct are afforded by the acts of those that are good or righteous. People esteem that man who acts righteously and who does good acts even if they only hear of him without actually seeing him. They that are atheists, they that are destitute of all acts, they that are disobedient to preceptors and transgress the injunctions of the scriptures, they that are unacquainted with and, therefore, unobservant of duties, and they that are wicked of conduct, become shortlived. They that are of improper behaviour, they that transgress all restraints, they that are unscrupulous in respect of sexual congress, become shortlived here and have to go to Hell hereafter. Even those men live for a hundred years who, though destitute of all accomplishments, betake themselves to propriety and righteousness of conduct and become endued with faith and freed from malice. He that is free from wrath, that is truthful in speech, that never does any injury to any creature in the universe, that is divested of malice and crookedness and insincerity, succeeds in living for a hundred years. He who always breaks little clods of earth, or tears up the grass that grows under his feet, or cuts off his nails with his teeth, or is always impure, or very restless, never succeeds in acquiring a long life.[458] One should wake up from sleep at the hour known as the Brahma Muhurta and then think of both religion and profit. Getting up from bed, one should then wash one's face and mouth, and joining one's hands in an attitude of reverence, say the morning prayers.[459] In this way, one should when evening comes, say one's evening prayers also, restraining speech (with other people) the while. One should never look at the rising sun, nor at the setting sun.[460] Nor should one look at the sun when he is in eclipse; nor at his image in the water; nor at midday when he is at the meridian. The Rishis, in consequence of their adoring the two twilights with great regularity succeeded in attaining to longevity. Hence, one should, restraining speech, say one's prayers regularly at the two twilights. As regards those Brahmanas that do not say their prayers at the two twilights, a righteous king should set them to accomplish such acts as are ordained for the Sudras. Persons of every order should never have sexual congress with other people's wives. There is nothing that shortens life so effectually as sexual congress with other people's wives. For as many thousand years shall the adulterer have to live in Hell as the number of pores on the bodies of the women with whom he may commit the offence. One should dress one's hair, apply collyrium to one's eyes, and wash one's teeth, as also worship the deities, in the forenoon. One should not gaze at urine or faeces, or tread on it or touch it with one's feet. One should not set out on a journey at early dawn, or at midday, or in the evening twilight, or with a companion that is unknown, or with a Sudra, or alone. While going along a road, one should, standing aside, always make way to a Brahmana, to kine, to kings, to an old man, to one that is weighted with a burden, to a woman quick with child, or to one that is weak. When one meets a large tree that is known, one should walk round it. One should also, when coming upon a spot where four roads meet, walk round it before pursuing one's journey. At midday, or at midnight, or at night in general, or at the two twilights, one should not proceed to spots where four roads meet. One should never wear sandals or clothes that have been worn by another. One should always observe the vow of Brahmacharya, and should never cross one's legs. One should observe the vow of Brahmacharya on the day of the new moon, as also on that of the full moon, as also on the eighth lunar day of both fortnights. One should never eat the flesh of animals not slain in sacrifice. One should never eat the flesh of the back of an animal. One should avoid censuring and calumniating others, as also all kinds of deceitful behaviour.[461] One should never pierce others with wordy shafts. Indeed, one should never utter any cruel speech. One should never accept a gift from a person that is low and vulgar. One should never utter such words as trouble other people or as are inauspicious or are as sinful. Wordy shafts fall from the mouth. Pierced therewith, the victim grieves day and night. The man of wisdom should never shoot them for piercing the vitals of other people. A forest, pierced with shafts or cut down with the axe, grows again. The man, however, that is pierced with words unwisely spoken, becomes the victim of wounds that fester and lead to death.[462] Barbed arrows and Nalikas and broadheaded shafts are capable of being extracted from the body. Wordy shafts, however, are incapable of being extracted, for they lie embedded in the very heart. One should not taunt a person that is defective of a limb or that has a limb in excess, or one that is destitute of learning, or one that is miserable, or one that is ugly or poor, or one that is destitute of strength. One should avoid atheism, calumniating the Vedas, censuring the deities, malice, pride, arrogance, and harshness. One should not, in wrath, take up the rod of chastisement for laying it upon another. Only the son or the pupil, it has been said, can be mildly chastised for purposes of instruction. One should not speak ill of Brahmanas; nor should he point at the stars with one's fingers. If asked, one should not say what the lunation is on a particular day. By telling it, one's life becomes shortened. Having answered calls of nature or having walked over a road, one should wash one's feet. One should also wash one's feet before sitting to recite the Vedas or to eat any food. These are the three things which are regarded as pure and sacred by the deities and as such fit for the Brahmana's use, viz., that whose impurity is unknown, that which has been washed in water, and that which has been well-spoken of. Samyava, Krisara, meat, Sashakuli and Payasa should never be cooked for one's own self. Whenever cooked, these should be offered to the deities.[463] One should attend every day to one's fire. One should every day give alms. One should, restraining speech the while, clean one's teeth with the tooth-stick. One should never be in bed when the sun is up. If one fails any day to be up with the sun, one should then perform an expiation. Rising from bed, one should first salute one's parents, and preceptors, or other seniors deserving of respect. By so doing one attains to long life. The tooth-stick should be cast off when done with, and a new one should be used every day. One should eat only such food as is not forbidden in the scriptures, abstaining from food of every kind on days of the new moon and the full moon. One should, with senses restrained, answer calls of nature, facing the north. One should not worship the deities without having first washed one's teeth. Without also worshipping the deities first, one should never repair to any person save one's preceptor or one that is old in years or one that is righteous or one that is possessed of wisdom. They that are wise should never see themselves in an unpolished or dirty mirror. One should never have sexual congress with a woman that is unknown or with one that is quick with child. One should never sleep with head turned towards the north or the west. One should not lie down upon a bed-stead that is broken or rickety. One should not sleep on a bed without having examined it first with the aid of a light. Nor should one sleep on a bed with another (such as wife) by one's side. One should never sleep in a transverse direction. One should never make a compact with atheists or do anything in conjunction with them.[464] One should never drag a seat with the foot and sit on it. One should never bathe in a state of nudity, nor at night. One possessed of intelligence should never suffer one's limbs to be rubbed or pressed after bathing. One should never smear unguents upon one's body without having first taken bath. Having bathed, one should never wave one's cloth in the air (for drying it). One should not always wear wet clothes. One should never take off one's body the garlands of flowers one may wear. Nor should one wear such garlands over one's outer garments. One should never even talk with a woman during the period of her functional change. One should not answer a call of nature on a field (where crops are grown) or at a place too near an inhabited village. One should never answer a call of nature on a water. One should first wash one's mouth thrice with water before eating any food. Having finished one's meals, one should wash one's mouth thrice with water and twice again. One should eat, with face turned eastwards, one's food, restraining speech the while and without censuring the food that is eaten. One should always leave a remnant of the food that is placed before one for eating. Having finished one's meals, one should mentally touch fire. If one eats with face turned eastwards, one becomes endued with longevity. By eating with face turned southwards, one acquires great fame. By eating with face turned westwards, one acquires great wealth. By eating with face turned northwards, one becomes truthful in speech. Having finished one's meals one should wash all the upper holes of one's body with water.[465] Similarly, all the limbs, the navel, and the palms of the hands should be washed with water. One should never seat oneself upon husk of corn, or upon hair, or upon ashes, or upon bones. One should, on no account, use the water that has been used by another for bathing. One should always perform the Homa for propitiating the deities, and recite the Savitri Mantra. One should always eat in a seated posture. One should never eat while walking. One should never answer a call of nature in a standing posture. One should never answer a call of nature on ashes or in a cow-pen. One should wash one's feet before sitting to one's meals. One should never sit or lie down for sleep with wet feet. One who sits to one's meals after having washed one's feet, lives for a hundred years. One should never touch these three things of great energy, while one is in an impure state, viz., fire, a cow, and a Brahmana. By observing this rule, one acquires longevity. One should not, while one is in an impure state, cast one's eyes on these three things of great energy, viz., the sun, the moon, and the stars. The life-breaths of a young man go upwards when an old and venerable person comes to his abode. He gets them back by standing up and properly saluting the guest. Old men should always be saluted. One should, upon seeing them, offer seats with one's own hand. After the old man has taken his seat, one should seat oneself and remain with hands joined in reverence. When an old man goes along the road, one should always follow him instead of walking ahead. One should never sit on a torn or broken seat. One should, without using it any longer, cast away a broken vessel of white brass. One should never eat without a piece of upper garment wrapping one's body. One should never bathe in a state of nudity. One should never sleep in a state of nudity. One should never even touch the remnants of other people's dishes and plates. One should never, while one is in an impure state, touch another's head, for it is said in the scriptures that the life-breaths are all concentrated in the head. One should never strike another on the head or seize another by the hair. One should not join one's hands together for scratching one's head. One should not, while bathing, repeatedly dip one's head in water. By so doing one shortens one's life. One who has bathed by dipping the head in water should not, afterwards, apply oil to any part of one's body. One should never take a meal without eating some sesame. One should never teach (the Vedas or any scriptures) at a time when one is impure. Nor should one study while one is impure. When a storm rises or a bad odour permeates in the atmosphere, one should never think of the Vedas. Persons conversant with ancient history recite a Gatha sung by Yama in days of old. He that runs while impure or studies the Vedas under similar circumstances, indeed, that regenerate Brahman who studies the Vedas at forbidden times, loses his Vedas and shortens his life. Hence, one should never study the Vedas with concentrated attention at forbidden times. They who answer a call of nature, with face towards the sun, or towards a blazing fire, or towards a cow, or towards a regenerate person, or on the road, become shortlived. At daytime both calls of nature should be answered with face turned towards the north. At night, those calls should be answered facing the south. By so doing one does not shorten one's life. One that wishes to live long should never disregard or insult any of these three, however weak or emaciated they may appear to be, viz., the Brahmana, the Kshatriya, and the snake. All three are endued with virulent poison. The snake, if angry, burns the victim with only a glance of its eyes. The Kshatriya also, if angry, burns the objects of his wrath, as soon as he sees him, with his energy. The Brahmana, stronger than any of these two, destroys not only the objects of his wrath but his whole race as well, not by vision alone but by thought also.[466] The man of wisdom should, therefore, tend these three with care. One should never engage in any disputation with one's preceptor. O Yudhishthira, if the preceptor becomes angry, he should always be pacified by due honours being paid to him. Even if the preceptor happens to be entirely wrong, one should still follow and honour him. Without doubt, calumnious sayings against the preceptor always consume the lives of those that utter them. One should always answer a call of nature at a spot far removed from one's habitation. One should wash one's feet at a distance from one's habitation. One should always throw the remnants of one's dishes and plates at a spot far removed from one's habitation. Verily, he who desires his own good should do all these. One should not wear garlands of red flowers. Indeed, they who are possessed of wisdom should wear garlands of flowers that are white in hue. Rejecting the lotus and the lily, O thou of great might, one may bear on one's head, however, a flower that is red, even if it be an aquatic one.[467] A garland of gold can under no circumstances become impure. After one has bathed, O king, one should use perfumes mixed with water.[468] One should never wear one's upper garment for covering the lower limbs or the lower garments for covering the upper ones. Nor should one wear clothes worn by another. One should not, again, wear a piece of cloth that has not its lateral fringes.[469] When one goes to bed, O king, one should wear a different piece of cloth. When making a journey also on a road, one should wear a different piece of cloth. So also, when worshipping the deities, one should wear a different piece of cloth.[470] The man of intelligence should smear his limbs with unguents made of Priyangu, sandalwood, Vilwa, Tagara, and Kesara.[471] In observing a fast, one should purify oneself by a bath, and adorn one's person with ornaments and unguents. One should always abstain from sexual congress on days of the full moon and the new moon. One should never, O monarch, eat off the same plate with another even if that other happens to be of one's own or equal rank. Nor should one ever eat any food that has been prepared by a woman in her functional period. One should never eat any food or drink, any liquid whose essence has been taken off. Nor should one eat anything without giving a portion thereof to persons that wishfully gaze at the food that one happens to take. The man of intelligence should never sit close to one that is impure. Nor should one sit close to persons that are foremost in piety.[472] All food that is forbidden in ritual acts should never be taken even on other occasions. The fruits of the Ficus religiosa and the Ficus Bengalensis as also the leaves of the Crotolaria Juncea, and the fruits of the Ficus glomerata, should never be eaten by one who is desirous of his own good. The flesh of goats, of kine, and the peacock, should never be eaten. One should also abstain from dried flesh and all flesh that is stale. The man of intelligence should never eat any salt, taking it up with his hand. Nor should he eat curds and flour of fried barley at night. One should abstain also from flesh of animals not slain in sacrifices. One should, with concentrated attention, eat once in the morning and once in the evening, abstaining entirely from all food, during the interval. One should never eat any food in which one may detect a hair. Nor should one eat at the Sraddha of an enemy. One should eat silently; one should never eat without covering one's person with an upper garment, and without sitting down.[473] One should never eat any food placing it on the bare ground. One should never eat except in a sitting posture. One should never make any noise while eating.[474] The man of intelligence should first offer water and then food to one that has become his guest, and after having served the guest thus, should then sit to his meals himself. He who sits down to dinner in a line with friends and himself eats any food without giving thereof to his friends, is said to eat virulent poison. As regards water and Payasa and flour of fried barley and curds and ghee and honey, one should never, after drinking or eating these, offer the remnants thereof to others. One should never, O chief of men, eat any food doubtingly.[475] One desirous of food should never drink curds at the conclusion of a meal. After the meal is finished, one should wash one's mouth and face with the (right) hand only, and taking a little water should then dip the toe of the right foot in it. After washing, one should touch the crown of one's head with the (right) hand. With concentrated attention, one should next touch fire. The man who knows how to observe all these ordinances with care, succeeds in attaining to the foremost place among his kinsmen. One should, after finishing one's meals, with one's nose and eyes and ears and navel and both hands wash with water. One should not, however, keep one's hands wet. Between the tip and the root of the thumb is situate the sacred Tirtha known by the name of Brahma. On the back of the little finger, it is said, is situate the Deva-tirtha. The intervening space between the thumb and the forefinger, O Bharata, should be used for discharging the Pitri rites, after touching water according to the ordinance.[476] One should never indulge in other people's calumny. Nor should one ever utter anything that is disagreeable. The man that desires his own good should never seek to provoke against himself the wrath of others. One should never seek to converse with a person that has fallen away from his order. The very sight of such a person should be avoided. One should never come in contact with a fallen person. By avoiding such contact one succeeds in attaining to a long life. One should never indulge in sexual congress at day-time. Nor should one have congress with a maiden, nor with a harlot nor with a barren woman. One should never have congress with a woman that has not bathed after the expiry of her functional period. By avoiding such acts one succeeds in attaining to a long life. After washing the several limbs directed, in view of religious acts, one should wash one's lips thrice, and once more twice. By doing this, one becomes purified and fit for religious acts. The several organs of sense should each be washed once, and water should also be sprinkled over the whole body. Having done this, one should go through the worship of the Pitris and the deities, agreeably with the ordinances of the Vedas. Listen to me, O thou of Kuru's race, as I tell thee what purification is cleansing and beneficial for a Brahmana. Before beginning to eat and after finishing the meal, and in all acts requiring purification, the Brahmana should perform the achamana with water placed on the limb called the Brahmatirtha.[477] After ejecting any matter from the throat or spitting, one should wash one's mouth before one can become pure. A kinsman who happens to be old, or a friend who happens to be poor, should be established in one's house and his comforts looked after as if he were a member of the family. By doing this, one succeeds in acquiring both fame and long life. The establishment of pigeons in one's house is fraught with blessedness, as also of parrots both male and female. If female these taken to one's abode, they succeed in dispelling calamity. The same is the case with cockroaches, If fireflies and vultures and wood-pigeons and bees enter a house or seek residence in it, acts of propitiating the deities should be performed. These are creatures of evil omen, as also ospreys. One should never divulge the secrets of high-souled men; one should never have sexual congress with a forbidden woman. Nor should one ever have such congress with the spouse of a king or with women that are the friends of queens. One should never cultivate intimacy with physicians, or with children, or with persons that are old, or with one's servants, O Yudhishthira. One should always provide for friends, for Brahmanas, and for such as seek one's protection. By doing this, O king, one acquires a long life. The man of wisdom should reside in such a house as has been constructed with the aid of a Brahmana and an engineer skilled in his profession, if indeed, O king, he desires his own good.[478] One should not, O king, sleep at the evening twilight. Nor should one study at such an hour for acquiring any branch of knowledge. The man of intelligence should never eat also at such an hour. By acting in this way one acquires a long life. One should never perform any act in honour of the Pitris at night time. One should not deck one's person after finishing one's meals. One should bathe at night, if one desires one's own advancement. One should also, O Bharata, always abstain from the flour of fried barley at night. The remnants of food and drink, as also the flowers with which one has worshipped the deities, should never be used. Inviting a guest at night, one should never, with excessive courtesy, force him to eat to the point of gratification. Nor should one eat oneself to the point of gratification, at night. One should not slay a bird (for eating it), especially after having fed it.[479] One possessed of wisdom should wed a maiden born in a high family, endued with auspicious indications, and of full age. Begetting children upon her and thus perpetuating one's race by that means, one should make over one's sons to a good preceptor for acquiring general knowledge, O Bharata, as also a knowledge of the especial customs of the family, O monarch. The daughters that one may beget should be bestowed upon youths of respectable families, that are again possessed of intelligence. Sons should also be established and a portion of the family inheritance, given to them, O Bharata, as their provision. One should bathe by dipping one's head in water before one sits down to perform any act in honour of the Pitris of the deities. One should never perform a Sraddha under the constellation of one's nativity. No Sraddha should be performed under any of the Bhadrapadas (prior or later), nor under the constellation Krittika, O Bharata. The Sraddha should never be performed under any of those constellations that are regarded as fierce (such as Aslesha, etc.) and any of those that, upon calculation, seem to be hostile. Indeed, in this respect, all these constellations should be avoided which are forbidden in treatises on astrology. One should sit facing either the east or the north while undergoing a shave at the hands of the barber. By so doing, O great king, one succeeds in acquiring a long life. One should never indulge in other people's calumny or self-reproach, for, O chief of the Bharatas, it is said that calumny is sinful, whether of others or of oneself. In wedding, one should avoid a woman that is deficient of any limb. A maiden too, if such, should also be avoided. A woman of the same Pravaras should also be avoided; as also one that has any malformation; as also one that has been born in the race to which one's mother belongs.[480] One possessed of wisdom should never have sexual congress with a woman that is old, or one that has abandoned the domestic mode of life for entering the forest mode, or one that is true to her lord, or one whose organs of generation are not healthy or well-formed.[481] It behoveth thee not to wed a woman that is of a yellow complexion, or one that is afflicted with leprosy, or one born in a family in which there has been epilepsy, or one that is low in birth and habits, or one that is born in a family in which the disease called Switra (leprosy) has appeared, or one belonging by birth to a race in which there are early deaths. Only that maiden who is endued with auspicious indications, and who is accomplished for qualifications of diverse kinds, who is agreeable and handsome, should be wedded. One should wed, O Yudhishthira, in a family that is higher or at least equal to one's own. One who is desirous of one's own prosperity, should never wed a woman that is of an inferior order or that has fallen away from the order of her birth. Carefully igniting the fire, one should accomplish all those acts which have been ordained and declared in the Vedas or by the Brahmanas.[482] One should never seek to injure women. Spouses should always be protected. Malice always shortens life. Hence, one should always abstain from cherishing malice. Sleep at day-time shortens life. To sleep after the sun has risen shortens life. They who sleep at any of the twilights, or at nightfall or who go to sleep in a state of impurity, have their lives shortened. Adultery always shortens life. One should not remain in a state of impurity after shaving.[483] One should, O Bharata, carefully abstain from studying or reciting the Vedas, and eating, and bathing, at eventide. When the evening twilight comes, one should collect one's senses for meditation, without doing any act. One should, O king, bathe and then worship the Brahmanas. Indeed, one should bathe before worshipping the deities and reverentially saluting the preceptor. One should never go to a sacrifice unless invited. Indeed, one may go there without an invitation if one wishes only to see how the sacrifice is conducted. If one goes to a sacrifice (for any other purpose) without an invitation and if one does not, on that account, receive proper worship from the sacrificer, one's life becomes shortened. One should never go alone on a journey to foreign parts. Nor should one ever proceed alone to any place at night. Before evening comes, one should come back to one's house and remain within it. One should always obey the commands of one's mother and father and preceptor, without at all judging whether those commands are beneficial or otherwise. One should, O king, attend with great care to the Vedas and the science of arms. Do then, O king, carefully attend to the practice of riding an elephant, a steed, and a war-chariot. The man who attends to these with care succeeds in attaining to happiness. Such a king succeeds in becoming unconquerable by foes, and sway his servants and kinsmen without any of them being able to get the better of him. The king that attains to such a position and that carefully attends to the duty of protecting his subjects, has never to incur any loss. Thou shouldst acquire, O king, the science of reasoning, as also the science of words, the science of the Gandharvas, and the four and sixty branches of knowledge known by the name of Kala. One should every day hear the Puranas and the Itihasas and all the other narratives that exist, as also the life-stories of all high-souled personages. When one's spouse passes through functional period, one should never have congress with her, nor even summon her for conversation. The man endued with wisdom may accept her companionship on the fourth day after the bath of purification. If one indulges in congress on the fifth day from the first appearance of the functional operation, one gets a daughter. By indulging in congress on the sixth day, one happens to have a son. The man of wisdom should in the matter of congress, attend to this rule (about odd and even days). Kinsmen and relatives by marriage and friends should all be treated with respect. One should, according to the best of one's power, adore the deities in sacrifices, giving away diverse kinds of articles as sacrificial Dakshina. After the period ordained for the domestic mode of life has been passed, one should, O king, enter the life of a forest recluse. I have thus told thee all the indications, in brief, of persons who succeed in living long.[484] What remains untold by me should be heard by thee from the mouths of persons well-versed in the three Vedas, O Yudhishthira. Thou shouldst know that conduct is the root of prosperity. Conduct is the enhancer of fame. It is conduct that prolongs life. It is conduct that destroys all calamities and evils. Conduct has been said to be superior to all the branches of knowledge. It is conduct that begets righteousness, and it is righteousness that prolongs life. Conduct is productive of fame, of long life, and of heaven. Conduct is the most efficacious rite of propitiating the deities (for bringing about auspiciousness of every kind). The Self-born Brahman himself has said that one should show compassion unto all orders of men."'"[485] SECTION CV "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O chief of Bharata's race, how the eldest brother should behave towards his younger brothers and how the younger brothers should behave towards their eldest brother." "'Bhishma said, "Do thou, O son, always behave towards thy younger brothers as their eldest brother should. Thou art always the eldest of all these thy brothers. That high conduct which the preceptor should always adopt towards his disciples should be adopted by thee towards thy younger brothers. If the preceptor happens to be unendued with wisdom, the disciple cannot possibly behave towards him in a respectful or proper way. If the preceptor happens to be possessed of purity and highness of conduct, the disciple also succeeds in attaining to conduct of the same kind, O Bharata. The eldest brother should at times be blind to the acts of his younger brothers, and though possessed of wisdom should at times act as if he does not understand their acts. If the younger brothers be guilty of any transgression, the eldest brother should correct them by indirect ways and means. If there be good understanding among brothers and if the eldest brother seek to correct his younger brothers by direct or ostensible means, persons that are enemies, O son of Kunti, that are afflicted with sorrow at the sight of such good understanding and who, therefore, always seek to bring about a disunion, set themselves to disunite the brothers and cause dissension among them. It is the eldest brother that enhances the prosperity of the family or destroys it entirely. If the eldest brother happens to be unendued with sense and wicked in behaviour, he brings about the destruction of the whole family. The eldest brother who injures his younger brothers ceases to be regarded as the eldest and forfeits his share in the family property and deserves to be checked by the king. That man who acts deceitfully, has, without doubt, to go to regions of grief and every kind of evil. The birth of such a person serves no useful purpose even as the flowers of the cane.[486] That family in which a sinful person takes birth becomes subject to every evil. Such a person brings about infamy, and all the good acts of the family disappear. Such among the brothers as are wedded to evil acts forfeit their shares of the family property. In such a case, the eldest brother may appropriate the whole Yautuka property without giving any portion thereof to his younger brothers. If the eldest brother makes any acquisition, without using the paternal property and by going to a distant place he may appropriate for his own use, such acquisitions, without giving any share thereof to his younger brothers. If unseparated brothers desire (during the lifetime of their father) to portion the family property, the father should give equal shares unto all his sons. If the eldest brother happens to be of sinful acts and undistinguished by accomplishments of any kind he may be disregarded by his younger brothers. If the wife or the younger brother happens to be sinful, her or his good must still be looked after. Persons conversant with the efficacy of righteousness say that righteousness is the highest good. The Upadhyaya is superior to even ten Acharyas. The sire is equal to ten Upadhyayas. The mother is equal to ten sires or even the whole earth. There is no senior equal to the mother. Verily, she transcends all in respect of the reverence due to her.[487] It is for this reason that people regard the mother to deserve so much reverence. After the father has ceased to breathe, O Bharata, the eldest brother should be regarded as the father. It is the eldest brother who should assign unto them their means of support and protect and cherish them. All the younger brothers should bow to him and obey his authority. Indeed, they should live in dependence upon him even as they did upon their father while he was alive. So far as the body is concerned, O Bharata, it is the father and the mother that create it. That birth, however, which the Acharya ordains, is regarded as the true birth, that is, besides, really unfading and immortal. The eldest sister, O chief of Bharata's race, is like unto the mother. The wife of the eldest brother also is like unto the mother, for the younger brother, in infancy, receives suck from her."'"[488] SECTION CVI "'Yudhishthira said, "The disposition is seen, O grandsire, in all the orders of men, including the very Mlechchhas, of observing fasts. The reason, however, of this is not known to us. It has been heard by us that only Brahmanas and Kshatriyas should observe the vow of fasts. How, O grandsire, are the other orders to be taken as earning any merit by the observance of fasts? How have vows and fasts come to be observed by persons of all orders, O king? What is that end to which one devoted to the observance of fasts attains? It has been said that fasts are highly meritorious and that fasts are a great refuge. O prince of men, what is the fruit that is earned in this world by the man that observe fasts? By what means is one cleansed of one's sins? By what means doth one acquire righteousness? By what means, O best of the Bharatas, doth one succeed in acquiring heaven and merit? After having observed a fast, what should one give away, O king? O, tell me, what those duties are by which one may succeed in obtaining such objects as lead to happiness?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Unto Kunti's son by the deity of Dharma, who was conversant with every duty and who said so unto him, Santanu's son, Bhishma, who was acquainted with every duty, answered in the following words.' "'Bhishma said, "In former days, O king, I heard of these high merits, O chief of Bharata's race, as attaching to the observance of fasts according to the ordinance. I had, O Bharata, asked the Rishi Angiras of high ascetic merit, the very same questions which thou hast asked me today. Questioned by me thus, the illustrious Rishi, who sprang from the sacrificial fire, answered me even thus in respect of the observance of fasts according to the ordinance. "'"Angiras said, 'As regards Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, fasts for three nights at a stretch are ordained for them, O delighter of the Kurus. Indeed, O chief of men, a fast for one night, for two nights, and for three nights, may be observed by them. (They should never go beyond three nights). As regards Vaisyas and Sudras, the duration of fasts prescribed for them is a single night. If, from folly, they observe fasts for two or three nights, such fasts never lead to their advancement. Indeed, for Vaisyas and Sudras, fasts for two nights have been ordained (on certain special occasions). Fasts for three nights, however, have not been laid down for them by persons conversant with and observant of duties. That man of wisdom who, with his senses and soul under control, O Bharata, fasts, by abstaining from one of the two meals, on the fifth and the sixth days of the moon as also on the day of the full moon, becomes endured with forgiveness and beauty of person and conversance with the scriptures. Such a person never becomes childless and poor. He who performs sacrifices for adoring the deities on the fifth and sixth days of the moon, transcends all the members of his family and succeeds in feeding a large number of Brahmanas. He who observes fasts on the eighth and the fourteenth days of the dark fortnight, becomes freed from maladies of every kind and possessed of great energy. The man who abstains from one meal every day throughout the month called Margasirsha, should, with reverence and devotion, feed a number of Brahmanas. By so doing he becomes freed from all his sins. Such a man becomes endued with prosperity, and all kinds of grain become his. He becomes endued with energy. In fact, such a person reaps an abundance of harvest from his fields, acquires great wealth and much corn. That man, O son of Kunti, who passes the whole month of Pausha, abstaining every day from one of two meals, becomes endued with good fortune and agreeable features and great fame. He who passes the whole month of Magha, abstaining every day from one of the two meals, takes birth in a high family and attains to a position of eminence among his kinsmen. He who passes the whole month of Bhagadaivata, confining himself every day to only one meal becomes a favourite with women who, indeed, readily own his sway. He who passes the whole of the month of Chaitra, confining himself every day to one meal, takes birth in a high family and becomes rich in gold, gems, and pearls. The person, whether male or female, who passes the month of Vaisakha, confining himself or herself every day to one meal, and keeping his or her senses under control, succeeds in attaining to a position of eminence among kinsmen. The person who passes the month of Jyaishtha confining himself every day to one meal a day, succeeds in attaining to a position of eminence and great wealth. If a woman, she reaps the same reward. He who passes the month of Ashadha confining himself to one meal a day and with senses steadily concentrated upon his duties, becomes possessed of much corn, great wealth, and a large progeny. He who passes the month of Sravana, confining himself to one meal a day, receives the honours of Abhisheka wherever he may happen to reside, and attains to a position of eminence among kinsmen whom he supports. That man who confines himself to only one meal a day for the whole month of Proshthapada, becomes endued with great wealth and attains to swelling and durable affluence. The man who passes the month of Aswin, confining himself to one meal a day, becomes pure in soul and body, possessed of animals and vehicles in abundance, and a large progeny. He who passes the month of Kartika, confining himself to one meal every day, becomes possessed of heroism, many spouses, and great fame. I have now told thee, O chief of men what the fruits are that are obtained by men by observing fasts for the two and ten months in detail. Listen now, O king, to me as I tell thee what the rules are in respect of each of the lunar days. The man who, abstaining from it every day, takes rice at the expiration of every fortnight, becomes possessed of a great many kine, a large progeny, and a long life. He who observes a fast for three nights every month and conducts himself thus for two and ten years, attains to a position of supremacy among his kinsmen and associates, without a rival to contest his claim and without any anxiety caused by any one endeavouring to rise to the same height. These rules that I speak of, O chief of Bharata's race, should be observed for two and ten years. Let the inclination be manifested towards it. That man who eats once in the forenoon and once after evening and abstains from drinking (or eating anything) in the interval, and who observes compassion, towards all creatures and pours libations of clarified butter on his sacred fire every day, attains to success, O king, in six years. There is no doubt in this. Such a man earns the merit that attaches to the performance of the Agnishtoma sacrifice. Endued with merit and freed from every kind of stain, he attains to the region of the Apsaras that echo with the sound of songs and dance, and passes his days in the company of a thousand damsels of great beauty. He rides on a car of the complexion of melted gold and receives high honours in the region of Brahma. After the exhaustion of that merit such a person comes back to earth and attains to pre-eminence of position. That man who passes one whole year, confining himself every day to only one meal, attains to the merit of the Atiratra sacrifice. He ascends to heaven after death and receives great honours there. Upon the exhaustion of that merit he returns to earth and attains to a position of eminence. He who passes one whole year observing fasts for three days in succession and taking food on every fourth day, and abstaining from injury from every kind, adheres to truthfulness of speech and keeps his senses under control, attains to the merit of the Vajapeya sacrifice. Such a person ascends to heaven after death and receives high honours there. That man, O son of Kunti, who passes a whole year observing fasts for five days and taking food on only the sixth day, acquires the merit of the Horse-sacrifice. The chariot he rides is drawn by Chakravakas. Such a man enjoys every kind of happiness in heaven for full forty thousand years. He who passes a whole year observing fasts for seven days and taking food on only every eighth day, acquires the merit of the Gavamaya sacrifice. The chariot he rides is drawn by swans and cranes. Such a person enjoys all kinds of happiness in Heaven for fifty thousand years. He who passes a whole year, O king, eating only at intervals of a fortnight, acquires the merit of a continuous fast for six months. This has been said by the illustrious Angiras himself. Such a man dwells in heaven for sixty thousand years. He is roused every morning from his bed by the sweet notes of Vinas and Vallakis and flutes, O king. He who passes a whole year, drinking only a little water at the expiration of every month, acquires, O monarch, the merit of the Viswajit sacrifice. Such a man rides a chariot drawn by lions and tigers. He dwells in heaven for seventy thousand years in the enjoyment of every kind of happiness. No fast for more than a month, O chief of men, has been ordained. Even this, O son of Pritha, is the ordinance in respect of fasts that has been declared by sages conversant with duties. That man who, unafflicted by disease and free from every malady, observes a fast, verily acquires, at every step the merits that attach to Sacrifices. Such a man ascends to Heaven on a car drawn by swans. Endued with puissance, he enjoys every kind of happiness in heaven for a hundred years. A hundred Apsaras of the most beautiful features wait upon and sport with him. He is roused from his bed every morning by the sound of the Kanchis and the Nupuras of those damsels.[489] Such a person rides on a car drawn by a thousand swans. Dwelling, again, in a region teeming with hundreds of the most beautiful damsels, he passes his time in great joy. The person who is desirous of heaven does not like the accession of strength when he becomes weak, or the cure of wounds when he is wounded, or the administration of healing drugs when he is ill, or soothing by others when he is angry, or the mitigation, by the expenditure of wealth, of sorrows caused by poverty. Leaving this world where he suffers only privations of every kind, he proceeds to heaven and rides on cars adorned with gold, his person embellished with ornaments of every kind. There, in the midst of hundreds of beautiful damsels, he enjoys all kinds of pleasure and happiness, cleansed of every sin. Indeed, abstaining from food and enjoyments in this world, he takes leave of this body and ascends to heaven as the fruit of his penances. There, freed from all his sins, health and happiness become his and whatever wishes arise in his mind become crowned with fruition. Such a person rides on a celestial car of golden complexion, of the effulgence of the morning sun, set with pearls and lapis lazuli, resounding with the music of Vinas and Murajas, adorned with banners and lamps, and echoing with the tinkle of celestial bells, such a person enjoys all kinds of happiness in heaven for as many years as there are pores in his body. There is no Sastra superior to the Veda. There is no person more worthy of reverence than the mother. There is no acquisition superior to that of Righteousness, and no penance superior to fast. There is nothing, more sacred, in heaven or earth, than Brahmanas. After the same manner there is no penance that is superior to the observance of fasts. It was by fasts that the deities have succeeded in becoming denizens of heaven. It is by fasts that the Rishis have attained to high success. Viswamitra passed a thousand celestial years, confining himself every day to only one meal, and as the consequence thereof attained to the status of a Brahmana. Chyavana and Jamadagni and Vasishtha and Gautama and Bhrigu--all these great Rishis endued with the virtue of forgiveness, have attained to heaven through observance of fasts. In former days Angiras declared so unto the great Rishis. The man who teaches another the merit of fasts have never to suffer any kind of misery. The ordinances about fasts, in their due order, O son of Kunti, have flowed from the great Rishi Angiras. The man who daily reads these ordinances or hears them read, becomes freed from sins of every kind. Not only is such a person freed from every calamity, but his mind becomes incapable of being touched by any kind of fault. Such a person succeeds in understanding the sounds of all creatures other than human, and acquiring eternal fame, become foremost of his species."'" SECTION CVII "'Yudhishthira said, "O high-souled grandsire, thou hast duly discoursed to us on the subject of Sacrifices, including the merits in detail that attach to them both here and hereafter. It should be remembered, however, O grandsire, that Sacrifices are incapable of being performed, by people that are poor, for these require a large store of diverse kinds of articles. Indeed, O grandsire, the merit attaching to Sacrifices can be acquired by only kings and princes. That merit is incapable of being acquired by those that are destitute of wealth and divested of ability and that live alone and are helpless. Do thou tell us, O grandsire, what the ordinances are in respect of those acts that are fraught with merit equal to what attaches to sacrifices and which, therefore, are capable of being performed by persons destitute of means."[490] "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O Yudhishthira! Those ordinances that I have told thee of,--those, viz., that were first promulgated by the great Rishi Angiras, and that have reference to meritorious fasts for their soul,--are regarded as equal to Sacrifices (in respect of the fruits they bring about both here and hereafter). That man who takes one meal in the forenoon and one at night, without taking any food or drink during the interval, and who observes this regulation for a period of six years in succession, abstaining all the while from injuring any creature and regularly pouring libations on his sacred fire every day, attains, without doubt, to success. Such a man acquires hereafter a car of the complexion of heated gold, and attains to a residence, for millions of years, in the region of Prajapati, in the company of celestial damsels, that ever echoes with the sound of music and dance, and blazes with the effulgence of fire. He who passes three years, confining himself every day to one meal and abstaining all the while from congress with any other woman save his own wedded wife, attains to the merit of the Agnishtoma sacrifice. Such a man is regarded as having performed a Sacrifice, with plenty of gifts in gold, that is dear to Vasava himself. By practising truthfulness of speech, making gifts, reverencing the Brahmanas, avoiding malice, becoming forgiving and self-restrained, and conquering wrath, a man attains to the highest end. Riding on a car of the complexion of white clouds that is drawn by swans, he lives, for millions and million of years, in the company of Apsaras. Fasting for a whole day and eating only one meal on the second day, he who pours libations upon his sacred fire for the period of a whole year,--verily, he who observes such a fast and attends every day to his fire and rises every day from bed before sunrise, attains to the merit of the Agnishtoma sacrifice. Such a man acquires a car drawn by swans and cranes. Surrounded by the most beautiful damsels, he resides in the region of Indra. That man who eats only one meal every third day, and pours libations every day on his sacred fire for a period of a whole year,--indeed, he who thus attends to his fire every day and wakes up from sleep every morning before the sun is up, attains to the high merit of the Atiratra sacrifice. He acquires a car drawn by peacocks and swans and cranes. Proceeding to the region of the seven (celestial) Rishis, he takes up his residence there, surrounded by Apsaras of great beauty. It is well-known that such residence lasts for full three Padmas of years.[491] Fasting for three days in succession, he who takes only one meal every fourth day, and pours libations every day on his sacred fire, acquires the high merit of the Vajapeya sacrifice. The car he acquires is graced by celestial damsels of great beauty that have Indra for their father. He resides in the region of Indra for millions and millions of years and experiences great happiness by witnessing the sports of the chief of the deities. Fasting for four days in succession, he who eats only one meal every fifth day, and pours libations on the sacred fire every day for the period of a whole year, and who lives without cupidity, telling the truth, reverencing the Brahmanas, abstaining from every kind of injury, and avoiding malice and sin, acquires the merit of the Vajapeya sacrifice. The car he rides is made of gold and drawn by swans and endued with the effulgence of many suns rising together. He acquires a palatial mansion of pure white. He lives there in great happiness for full one and fifty Padmas of years.[492] Fasting for five days, he who takes food on only the sixth day, and pours libations on his sacred fire every day for a whole year, and who performs three ablutions in course of the day for purifying himself and saying his prayers and doing his worship, and who leads a life of Brahmacharya, divested of malice in his conduct, acquires the merit of the Gomedha sacrifice. He acquires an excellent car adorned with pure gold, possessed of the effulgence of a blazing fire and drawn by swans and peacocks. He sleeps on the lap of Apsaras and is awakened every morning by the melodious tinkle of Nupuras and Kanchis. He leads such a life of happiness for ten thousand million years and three thousand million besides and eight and ten Padmas and two Patakas.[493] Such a man resides also, honoured by all, in the region of Brahma for as many years as there are hairs on the bodies of hundreds of bears. Fasting for six days, he who eats only one meal every seventh day and pours libations on the sacred fire every day, for a full year, restraining speech all the while and observing the vow of Brahmacharya, and abstaining from the use of flowers and unguents and honey and meat, attains to the region of the Maruts and of Indra. Crowned with the fruition of every desire as it springs up in the mind, he is waited upon and adored by celestial damsels. He acquires the merits of a sacrifice in which abundance of gold is given away. Proceeding to the regions named, he lives there for countless years in the greatest happiness[494]. He who shows forgiveness to all and fasting for seven days eats on every eighth day for a whole year, and, pouring libations every day on the sacred fire, adores the deities regularly, acquires the high merits of the Paundarika sacrifice. The car he rides is of a colour like that of the lotus. Without doubt, such a man acquires also a large number of damsels, possessed of youth and beauty, some having complexions that are dark, some with complexions like that of gold, and some that are Syamas, whose looks and attitudes are of the most agreeable kind. He who fasts for eight days and takes only one meal on every ninth day for a whole year, and pours libations on the sacred fire every day, acquires the high merits of a thousand Horse-sacrifices. The car he rides in Heaven is as beautiful as a lotus. He always makes his journeys on that car, accompanied by the daughters of Rudra adorned with celestial garlands and endued with the effulgence of the midday sun or the fires of blazing flames. Attaining to the regions of Rudra, he lives there in great happiness for countless years. He who fasts for nine days and takes only one meal every tenth day for a whole year, and pours libations on his sacred fire every day, acquires the high merit of a thousand Horse-sacrifices, and attains to the companionship of Brahmanas' daughters endued with beauty capable of charming the hearts of all creatures. These damsels, possessed of such beauty, and some of them possessed of complexion like that of the lotus and some like that of the same flower of the blue variety, always keep him in joy[495]. He acquires a beautiful vehicle, that moves in beautiful circles and that looks like the dense cloud called Avarta, verily, it may be said to resemble also an ocean-wave. That vehicle resounds with the constant tinkle of rows of pearls and gems, and the melodious blare of conchs, and is adorned with columns made of crystals and diamonds, as also with an altar constructed of the same minerals. He makes his journeys on such a car, drawn by swans and cranes and lives for millions and millions of years in great happiness in heaven. He who fasts for ten days and eats only ghee on every eleventh day for a whole year and pours libations on his sacred fire every day, who never, in word or thought, covets the companionship of other people's wives and who never utters an untruth even for the sake of his mother and father, succeeds in beholding Mahadeva of great puissance seated on his car. Such a person acquires the high merit of a thousand Horse-sacrifices. He beholds the car of the Self-born Brahman himself approach for taking him on it. He rides in it, accompanied by celestial damsels possessed of great beauty, and complexion as effulgent as that of pure gold. Endued with the blazing splendour of the Yoga-fire, he lives for countless years in a celestial mansion in heaven, full of every happiness. For those countless years he experiences the joy of bending his head in reverence unto Rudra adored by deities and Danavas. Such a person obtains every day the sight of the great deity. That man who having fasted for eleven days eats only a little ghee on the twelfth, and observes this conduct for a whole year, succeeds in obtaining the merits attaching to all the sacrifices. The car he rides in is possessed of the effulgence of a dozen suns. Adorned with gems and pearls and corals of great value, embellished with rows of swans and snakes and of peacocks and Chakravakas uttering their melodious notes, and beautified with large domes, is the residence to which he attains in the region of Brahman. That abode, O king, is always filled with men and women (who wait upon him for service). Even this is what the highly blessed Rishi Angiras, conversant with every duty, said (regarding the fruits of such a fast). That man who having fasted for twelve days eats a little ghee on the thirteenth, and bears himself in this way for a whole year, succeeds in attaining to the merits of the divine sacrifice. Such a man obtains a car of the complexion of the newly-blown lotus, adorned with pure gold and heaps of jewels and gems. He proceeds to the region of the Maruts that teem with celestial damsels, that are adorned with every kind of celestial ornament, that are redolent with celestial perfumes, and that contain every element of felicity. The number of years he resides in those happy regions is countless[496]. Soothed with the sound of music and the melodious voice of Gandharvas and the sounds and blare of drums and Panavas, he is constantly gladdened by celestial damsels of great beauty. That man who having fasted for thirteen days eats a little ghee on the fourteenth day, and bears himself in this way for a full year, obtains the merits of the Mahamedha sacrifice.[497] Celestial damsels of indescribable beauty, and whose age cannot be guessed for they are for ever young in appearance, adorned with every ornament and with armlets of blazing effulgence, wait upon him with many cars and follow him in his journeys. He is waked every morning from his bed by the melodious voice of swans, the tinkle of Nupuras, and the highly agreeable jingle of Kanchis. Verily, he resides in a superior abode, waited upon by such celestial damsels, for years as countless as the sands on the shores of Ganga. That man who, keeping his senses under control, fasts for a fortnight and takes only one meal on the sixteenth day, and bears himself in this way for a whole year, pouring libations every day on his sacred fire, acquires the high merits that attach to a thousand Rajasuya sacrifices. The car he rides in is possessed of great beauty and is drawn by swans and peacocks. Riding in such a vehicle, that is, besides, adorned with garlands of pearls and the purest gold and graced with bevies of celestial damsels decked with ornaments of every kind, having one column and four arches and seven altars exceedingly auspicious, endued with thousands of banners and echoing with the sound of music, celestial and of celestial attributes, embellished with gems and pearls and corals, and possessed of the effulgence of lightning, such a man lives in heaven for a thousand Yugas, having elephants and rhinoceroses for dragging that vehicle of his. That man who having fasted for fifteen days takes one meal on the sixteenth day and bears himself in this way for one whole year, acquires the merits attaching to the Soma sacrifice. Proceeding to Heaven he lives in the company of Soma's daughters. His body fragrant with unguents whose perfumes are as sweet as those of Soma himself, he acquires the power of transporting himself immediately to any place he likes. Seated on his car he is waited upon by damsels of the most beautiful features and agreeable manners, and commands all articles of enjoyment. The period for which he enjoys such happiness consists of countless years.[498] That man who having fasted for sixteen days eats a little ghee on the seventeenth day and bears himself in this way for a whole year, pouring libations every day on his sacred fire, proceeds to the regions of Varuna and Indra, and Rudra and the Maruts and Usanas and Brahman himself. There he is waited upon by celestial damsels and obtains a sight of the celestial Rishi called Bhurbhuva and grasps the whole universe in his ken. The daughters of the deity of the deities gladden him there. Those damsels, of agreeable manners and adorned with every ornament, are capable of assuming two and thirty forms. As long as the Sun and the Moon move in firmament, so long does that man of wisdom reside in those regions of felicity, subsisting upon the succulence of ambrosia and nectar. That man who having fasted for seventeen days eats only one meal on the eighteenth day, and bears himself in this way for a whole year, succeeds in grasping the seven regions, of which the universe consist, in his ken. While performing his journeys on his car he is always followed by a large train of cars producing the most agreeable rattle and ridden by celestial damsels blazing with ornament and beauty. Enjoying the greatest happiness, the vehicle he rides in is celestial and endued with the greatest beauty. It is drawn by lions and tigers, and produces a rattle as deep as the sound of the clouds. He lives in such felicity for a thousand Kalpas subsisting upon the succulence of ambrosia that is as sweet as nectar itself. That man who having fasted for eighteen days eats only one meal on the nineteenth day and bears himself in this way for a full year, succeeds in grasping within his ken all the seven regions of which the universe consists. The region to which he attains is inhabited by diverse tribes of Apsaras and resounds with the melodious voice of Gandharvas. The car he rides in is possessed of the effulgence of the sun. His heart being freed from every anxiety, he is waited upon by the foremost of celestial damsels. Decked with celestial garlands, and possessed of beauty of form, he lives in such happiness for millions and millions of years. That man who having fasted for nineteen days eats only one meal on every twentieth day and bears himself in this way for a full year, adhering all the while to truthfulness of speech and to the observance of other (excellent) rituals, abstaining also from meat, leading the life of a Brahmacharin, and devoted to the good of all creatures, attains to the extensive regions of great happiness, belonging to the Adityas. While performing his journeys on his own car, he is followed by a large train of cars ridden by Gandharvas and Apsaras decked with celestial garlands and unguents. That man who having fasted for twenty days takes a single meal on the twenty-first day and bears himself in this way for a full year, pouring libations every day on his sacred fire, attains to the regions of Usanas and Sakra, of the Aswins and the Maruts, and resides there in uninterrupted happiness of great measure. Unacquainted with sorrow of every kind, he rides in the foremost of cars for making his journeys, and waited upon by the foremost of celestials, damsels, and possessed of puissance, he sports in joy like a celestial himself. That man who having fasted for one and twenty days takes a single meal on the twenty-second day and bears himself in this way for a full year, pouring libations on his sacred fire every day, abstaining from injuring any creature, adhering to truthfulness of speech, and freed from malice attains to the regions of the Vasus and becomes endued with effulgence of the sun. Possessed of the power of going everywhere at will, subsisting upon nectar, and riding in the foremost of cars, his person decked with celestial ornaments, he sports in joy in the company of celestial damsels. That man who having fasted for two and twenty days takes a single meal on the twenty-third day and bears himself in this way for a full year, thus regulating his diet and keeping his senses under control, attains to the regions of the deity of Wind, of Usanas, and of Rudra. Capable of going everywhere at will and always roving at will, he is worshipped by diverse tribes of Apsaras. Riding in the foremost of cars and his person decked with celestial ornaments, he sports for countless years in great felicity in the company of celestial damsels. That man who having fasted for three and twenty days eats a little ghee on the twenty-fourth day, and bears himself in this way for a full year, pouring libations on his sacred fire, resides for countless years in great happiness in the regions of the Adityas, his person decked with celestial robes and garlands and celestial perfumes and unguents. Riding in an excellent car made of gold and possessed of great beauty and drawn by swans, he sports in joy in the company of thousands and thousands of celestial damsels. That man who having fasted for four and twenty days eats a single meal on the twenty-fifth day and bears himself thus for a full year, succeeds in obtaining a car of the foremost kind, full of every article of enjoyment. He is followed in his journeys by a large train of cars drawn by lions and tigers, and producing a rattle as deep as the roar of the clouds ridden by celestial damsels, and all made of pure gold and possessed of great beauty. Himself riding on an excellent celestial car possessed of great beauty, he resides in those regions for a thousand Kalpas, in the company of hundreds of celestial damsels, and subsisting upon the succulence of ambrosia that is sweet as nectar itself. That man who having fasted for five and twenty days eats only one meal on the twenty-sixth day, and bears himself thus for a full year in the observance of such a regulation in respect of diet, keeping his senses under control, freed from attachment (to worldly objects), and pouring libations every day on his sacred fire,--that blessed man,--worshipped by the Apsaras, attains to the regions of the seven Maruts and of the Vasus. When performing his journeys he is followed by a large train of cars made of excellent crystal and adorned with all kinds of gems, and ridden by Gandharvas and Apsaras who show him every honour. He resides in those regions, in enjoyment of such felicity, and endued with celestial energy, for two thousand Yugas. That man who having fasted for six and twenty days eats a single meal on the twenty-seventh day and bears himself in this way for a full year, pouring libations every day on his sacred fire, acquires great merit and proceeding to Heaven receives honours from the deities. Residing there, he subsists on nectar, freed from thirst of every kind, and enjoying every felicity. His soul purified of every dross and performing his journeys on a celestial car of great beauty, he lives there, O king, bearing himself after the manner of the celestial Rishis and the royal sages. Possessed of great energy, he dwells there in great happiness in the company of celestial damsels of highly agreeable manners, for three thousand Yugas and Kalpas. That man who having fasted for seven and twenty days eats a single meal on the twenty-eighth day and bears himself in this way for a full year, with soul and senses under perfect control, acquires very great merit, which, in fact, is equal to what is acquired by the celestial Rishis. Possessed of every article of enjoyment, and endued with great energy, he blazes with the effulgence of the midday sun. Sportive damsels of the most delicate features and endued with splendour of complexion, having deep bosoms, tapering thighs and full and round hips, decked with celestial ornaments, gladden him with their company while he rides on a delightful and excellent car possessed of the effulgence of the sun and equipped with every article of enjoyment, for thousands and thousands of Kalpas. That man who having fasted for eight and twenty days eats a single meal on the twenty-ninth day, and bears himself in this way for a full year, adhering all the while to truthfulness of speech, attains to auspicious regions of great happiness that are worshipped by celestial Rishis and royal sages. The car he obtains is endued with the effulgence of the sun and the moon, made of pure gold and adorned with every kind of gem, ridden by Apsaras and Gandharvas singing melodiously. Thereon he is attended by auspicious damsels adorned with celestial ornaments of every kind. Possessed of sweet dispositions and agreeable features, and endued with great energy, these gladden him with their company. Endued with every article of enjoyment and with great energy, and possessed of the splendour of a blazing fire, he shines like a celestial, with a celestial form having every excellence. The regions he attains are those of the Vasus and the Maruts, of the Sadhyas and the Aswins, of the Rudras and of Brahman himself. That man who having fasted for a full month takes a single meal on the first day of the following month and bears himself in this way for a full year, looking on all things with an equal eye attains to the regions of Brahman himself. There he subsists upon the succulence of ambrosia. Endued with a form of great beauty and highly agreeable to all, he shines with energy and prosperity like the sun himself of a thousand rays. Devoted to Yoga and adorned with celestial robes and garlands and smeared with celestial perfumes and unguents, he passes his time in great happiness, unacquainted with the least sorrow. He shines on his car attended by damsels that blaze forth with effulgence emitted by themselves. Those damsels, the daughters of the celestial Rishis and the Rudras, adore him with veneration. Capable of assuming diverse forms that are highly delightful and highly agreeable, their speech is characterised by diverse kinds of sweetness, and they are able to gladden the person they wait upon in diverse kinds of ways. While performing his journeys, he rides on a car that looks like the firmament itself in colour (for subtlety of the material that compose it). In his rear are cars that look like the moon; before him are those that resemble the clouds; on his right are vehicles that are red; below him are those that are blue; and above him are those that are of variegated hue. He is always adored by those that wait upon him. Endued with great wisdom, he lives in the region of Brahman for as many years as are measured by the drops of rain that fall in course of a thousand years on that division of the earth which is called Jamvudwipa. Verily, possessed of the effulgence of a deity, he lives in that region of unalloyed felicity for as many years as the drops of rain that fall upon the earth in the season of showers. The man who, having fasted for a whole month, eats on the first day of the following month, and bears himself in this way for ten years, attains to the status of a great Rishi. He was not to undergo any change of form while proceeding to heaven for enjoying the rewards of his acts in his life. Verily, even this is the status to which one attains by restraining speech, practising self-denial, subjugating wrath, sexual appetite, and the desire to eat, pouring libations on the sacred fire, and regularly adoring the two twilights. That man who purifies himself by the observance of these and similar vows and practices, and who eats in this way, becomes as stainless as ether and endued with effulgence like that of the sun himself.[499] Such a man, O king, proceeding to heaven in even his own carnal form, enjoys all the felicity that is there like a deity at his will. "I have thus told thee, O chief of the Bharatas, what the excellent ordinances are in respect of sacrifices, one after another, as dependent upon the fruits of fasts.[500] Poor men, O son of Pritha (who are unable to perform sacrifices) may, nevertheless, acquire the fruits thereof (by the observance of fasts). Verily, by observing these fasts, even a poor man may attain to the highest end, O foremost one of Bharata's race, attending all the while, besides, to the worship of the deities and the Brahmanas. I have thus recited to thee in detail the ordinances in respect of fasts. Do not harbour any doubt in respect of those men that are so observant of vows, that are so heedful and pure and high-souled, that are so freed from pride and contentions of every kind, that are endued with such devoted understandings, and that pursue their end with such steadiness and fixity of purpose without ever deviating from their path."'" SECTION CVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Do thou tell me, O grandsire, of that which is regarded as the foremost of all Tirthas. Indeed, it behoveth thee to expound to me what that Tirtha is which conduces to the greatest purity."[501] "'Bhishma said, "Without doubt, all Tirthas are possessed of merit. Listen, however, with attention to me as I tell thee what the Tirtha, the cleanser, is of men endued with wisdom. Adhering to eternal Truth, one should bathe in the Tirtha called Manasa, which is unfathomable (for its depth), stainless, and pure, and which has Truth for its waters and the understanding for its lake.[502] The fruits in the form of cleansing, that one acquires by bathing in that Tirtha, are freedom from cupidity, sincerity, truthfulness, mildness (of behaviour), compassion, abstention from injuring any creature, self-restraint, and tranquillity. Those men that are freed from attachments, that are divested of pride, that transcend all pairs of opposites (such as pleasure and pain, praise and blame, heat and cold, etc.), that have no spouses and children and houses and gardens, etc., that are endued with purity, and that subsist upon the alms given to them by others, are regarded as Tirthas. He who is acquainted with the truths of all things and who is freed from the idea of meum, is said to be the highest Tirtha.[503] In searching the indications of purity, the gaze should ever be directed towards these attributes (so that where these are present, thou mayst take purity to be present, and where these are not, purity also should be concluded to be not). Those persons from whose souls the attributes of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas have been washed off, they who, regardless of (external) purity and impurity pursue the ends they have proposed to themselves, they who have renounced everything, they who are possessed of omniscience and endued with universal sight, and they who are of pure conduct, are regarded as Tirthas possessing the power of cleansing. That man whose limbs only are wet with water is not regarded as one that is washed. He, on the other hand, is regarded as washed who has washed himself by self-denial. Even such a person is said to be pure both inwardly and outwardly. They who never concern themselves with what is past, they who feel no attachment to acquisitions that are present, indeed, they who are free from desire, are said to be possessed of the highest purity. Knowledge is said to constitute the especial purity of the body. So also freedom from desire, and cheerfulness of mind. Purity of conduct constitutes the purity of the mind. The purity that one attains by ablutions in sacred waters is regarded as inferior. Verily, that purity which arises from knowledge, is regarded as the best. Those ablutions which one performs with a blazing mind in the waters of the knowledge of Brahma in the Tirtha called Manasa, are the true ablutions of those that are conversant with Truth. That man who is possessed of true purity of conduct and who is always devoted to the preservation of a proper attitude towards all, indeed, he who is possessed of (pure) attributes and merit, is regarded as truly pure. These that I have mentioned have been said to be the Tirthas that inhere to the body. Do thou listen to me as I tell thee what those sacred Tirthas are that are situate on the earth also. Even as especial attributes that inhere to the body have been said to be sacred, there are particular spots on earth as well, and particular waters, that are regarded as sacred. By reciting the names of the Tirthas, by performing ablutions there, and by offering oblations to the Pitris in those places, one's sins are washed off. Verily, those men whose sins are thus washed off succeed in attaining to heaven when they leave this world. In consequence of their association with persons that are righteous, through the especial efficacy of the earth itself of those spots and of particular waters, there are certain portions of the earth that have come to be regarded as sacred. The Tirthas of the mind are separate and distinct from those of the earth. That person who bathes in both attains to success without any delay. As strength without exertion, or exertion without strength can never accomplish anything singly, and as these, when combined, can accomplish all things, even so one that becomes endued with the purity that is contributed by the Tirthas in the body as also by that which is contributed by the Tirthas on the earth, becomes truly pure and attains to success. That purity which is derived from both sources is the best."'" SECTION CIX "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth thee, O grandsire, to tell me what are the highest, the most beneficial, and the most certain fruit of all kinds of fasts in this world." "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, to what was sung by the Self-born himself and by accomplishing which a person, without doubt, attains to the highest happiness. That man who fasts on the twelfth day of the moon in the month called Margasirsha and worships Krishna as Kesava for the whole day and night, attains to the merit of the Horse-sacrifice and becomes cleansed of all his sins. He who, after the same manner, fasts on the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Pausha and worships Krishna as Narayana, for the whole day and night, attains to the merits of the Vajapeya sacrifice and the highest success. He who fasts on the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Magha and worships Krishna as Madhava, for the whole day and night, attains to the merits of the Rajasuya sacrifice, and rescues his own race (from misery).[504] He who fasts on the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Phalguna and worships Krishna as Govinda, for the whole day and night, attains to the merit of the Atiratra sacrifice and goes to the region of Soma. He who fasts on the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Chaitra and worships Krishna as Vishnu, for the whole day and night, attains to the merit of the Pundarika sacrifice and proceeds to the region of the deities. By observing a similar fast on the twelfth day of the month of Vaisakha and worshipping Krishna as the slayer of Madhu for the whole day and night, one attains to the merits of the Agnishtoma sacrifice and proceeds to the region of Soma. By observing a fast on the twelfth lunar day in the month of Jyaishtha and worshipping Krishna as him who had (in Vali's sacrifice) covered the universe with three steps of his, one attains to the merits of the Gomedha sacrifice and sports with the Apsaras in great happiness. By observing a fast on the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Ashadha and worshipping Krishna as the dwarf (who beguiled the Asura king Vali), one attains to the merits of the Naramedha[505] sacrifice and sports in happiness with the Apsaras. By observing a fast for the twelfth lunar day of the month Sravana and worshipping Krishna for day and night as Sridhara, one attains to the merits of the sacrifice called Panchayajna and acquires a beautiful car in Heaven whereon he sports in joy. By observing a fast on the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Bhadrapada and worshipping Krishna as Hrishikesa for the whole day and night, one attains to the merits of the Sautramani sacrifice and becomes cleansed of all sins. By observing a fast for the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Aswin and worshipping Krishna as Padmanabha, one attains without doubt, to the merits of the sacrifice in which a thousand kine are given away. By observing a fast for the twelfth day of the moon in the month of Kartika and worshipping Krishna as Damodara, one attains, without doubt, to the combined merits of all the sacrifices. He who, in this way, adores Krishna for a whole year as Pundarikaksha, acquires the power of recollecting the incidents of his past births and wins much wealth in gold. Similarly, he who worships Krishna every day as Upendra attains to identity with him. After Krishna has been worshipped in this way, one should, at the conclusion of one's vow, feed a number of Brahmanas or make gifts unto them of ghee. The illustrious Vishnu, that ancient Being, has himself said that there is no fast that possesses merits superior to what attach to fast of this kind."'" SECTION CX "Vaisampayana said, 'Approaching the Kuru grandsire, venerable in years, viz., Bhishma, who was then lying on his bed of arrows, Yudhishthira possessed of great wisdom put the following question.' "'Yudhishthira said, "How, O grandsire, does one acquire beauty of form and prosperity and agreeableness of disposition? How, indeed, does one become possessed of religious merit and wealth and pleasure? How does one become endued with happiness?" "'Bhishma said, "In the month of Margasirsha, when the moon comes in conjunction with the asterism called Mula, when his two feet are united with that very asterism, O king, when Rohini is in his calf, when his knee-joints are in Aswini, and his shins are in the two Ashadhas, when Phalguni makes his anus, and Krittika his waist, when his navel is in Bhadrapada, his ocular region in Revati, and his back on the Dhanishthas, when Anuradha makes his belly, when with his two arms he reaches the Visakhas, when his two hands are indicated by Hasta, when Punarvasu, O king, makes his fingers, Aslesha his nails, when Jyeshtha is known for his neck, when by Sravana is pointed out his ears, and his mouth by Pushya, when Swati is said to constitute his teeth and lips, when Satabhisha is his smile and Magha his nose, when Mrigasiras is known to be in his eye, and Chitra in his forehead, when his head is in Bharani, when Ardra constitutes his hair, O king, the vow called Chandravrata should be commenced. Upon the completion of that vow, gift of ghee should be made unto Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas. As the fruit of that vow, one becomes possessed about knowledge. Indeed, one becomes, in consequence of such a vow, as full (of every blessed attribute) as the moon himself when he is at full."'" SECTION CXI "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou that art possessed of great wisdom and conversant with all the scriptures, I desire to know those excellent ordinances in consequence of which mortal creatures have to travel through their rounds of rebirth. What is that conduct by following which, O king, men succeed in attaining to high heaven, and what is that conduct by which one sinks in Hell? When, abandoning the dead body that is as inert as a piece of wood or clod of earth, people proceed to the other world, what are those that follow them thither?" "'Bhishma said, "Yonder comes the illustrious Vrihaspati of great intelligence! Do thou ask his blessed self. The subject is an eternal mystery. None else is capable of explaining the matter. There is no speaker like Vrihaspati." "Vaisampayana said, 'While the son of Pritha and the son of Ganga were thus speaking with each other, there came to that spot from the firmament the illustrious Vrihaspati of cleansed soul. King Yudhishthira, and all others, with Dhritarashtra at their head, stood up and received Vrihaspati with proper honours. Verily, the worship they offered to the preceptor of the celestials was excellent. Then Dharma's royal son, Yudhishthira, approaching the illustrious Vrihaspati, asked him the question in proper form, desirous of knowing the truth.' "'Yudhishthira said, "O illustrious one, thou art conversant with all duties and all the scriptures. Do thou tell me, what is truly the friend of mortal creatures? Is the father, or mother, or son, or preceptor, or kinsmen, or relatives, or those called friends, that may be said to truly constitute the friend of a mortal creature? One goes to the next world, leaving one's dead body that is like a piece of wood or a clod of earth. Who is it that follows him thither?" "'Vrihaspati said, "One is born alone, O king, and one dies alone; one crosses alone the difficulties one meets with, and one alone encounters whatever misery falls to one's lot. One has really no companion in these acts. The father, the mother, the brother, the son, the preceptor, kinsmen, relatives, and friends, leaving the dead body as if it were a piece of wood or a clod of earth, after having mourned for only a moment, all turn away from it and proceed to their own concerns. Only Righteousness follows the body that is thus abandoned by them all. Hence, it is plain, that Righteousness is the only friend and that Righteousness only should be sought by all. One endued with righteousness would attain to that high end which is constituted by heaven. If endued with unrighteousness, he goes to Hell. Hence, the man of intelligence should always seek to acquire religious merit through wealth won by lawful means. Piety is the one only friend which creatures have in the world hereafter. Let by cupidity, or stupefaction, or compassion, or fear, one destitute of much knowledge is seen to do improper acts, for the sake of even another, his judgment thus stupefied by cupidity.[506] Piety, wealth and pleasure,--these three constitute the fruit of life. One should acquire these three by means of being free from impropriety and sin." "'Yudhishthira said, "I have carefully heard the words spoken by thy illustrious self,--these words that are fraught with righteousness, and that are highly beneficial. I wish now to know of the existence of the body (after death).[507] The dead body of man becomes subtil and unmanifest. It becomes invisible. How is it possible for piety to follow it?" "'Vrihaspati said, "Earth, Wind, Ether, Water, Light, Mind, Yama (the king of the dead), Understanding, the Soul, as also Day and Night, all together behold as witnesses the merits (and demerits) of all living creatures. With these, Righteousness follows the creature (when dead).[508] When the body becomes bereft of life, skin, bones, flesh, the vital seed, and blood, O thou of great intelligence, leave it at the same time. Endued with merit (and demerit) Jiva (after the destruction of this body) attains to another. After the attainment by Jiva of that body, the presiding deities of the five elements once more behold as witnesses all his acts good and bad. What else dost thou wish to hear? If endued with righteousness, Jiva enjoys happiness. What other topic, belonging to this or the other world, shall I discourse upon?" "'Yudhishthira said, "Thy illustrious self has explained how Righteousness follows Jiva. I desire to know how the vital seed is originated." "'Vrihaspati said, "The food that these deities, O king, who dwell in the body, viz., Earth, Wind, Ether, Water, Light, and Mind eat, gratifies them. When those five elements become gratified, O monarch, with Mind numbering as their sixth, their vital seed then becomes generated, O thou of cleansed soul! When an act of union takes place between male and female, the vital seed flows out and causes conception. I have thus explained to thee what thou hast asked. What else dost thou wish to hear?" "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O illustrious one, said how conception takes place. Do thou explain how the Jiva that takes birth grows (by becoming possessed of body)." "'Vrihaspati said, "As soon as Jiva enters the vital seed, he becomes overwhelmed by the elements already mentioned. When Jiva becomes disunited therewith, he is said to attain to the other end (viz., death). Endued as Jiva becomes with all those elements, he attains, in consequence thereof, a body. The deities, that preside over those elements behold as witnesses all his acts, good and bad. What else dost thou wish to hear?" "'Yudhishthira said, "Leaving off skin and bone and flesh, and becoming destitute of all those elements, in what does Jiva reside, O illustrious one, for enjoying and enduring happiness and misery?" "'Vrihaspati said, "Endued with all his acts, the Jiva quickly enters the vital seed, and utilizing the functional flow of women, takes birth in time, O Bharata. After birth, the Jiva receives woe and death from the messengers of Yama. Indeed, misery and a painful round of rebirth are his inheritance. Endued with life, O king, the Jiva in this world, from the moment of his birth, enjoys and endures his own (previous) acts, depending upon righteousness (and its reverse). If the Jiva, according to the best of his power, follows righteousness from the day of his birth, he then succeeds in enjoying, when reborn, happiness without interruption. If, on the other hand, without following righteousness without interruption, he acts sinfully, he reaps happiness at first as the reward of his righteousness and endures misery after that. Endued with unrighteousness, the Jiva has to go to the dominions of Yama and suffering great misery there, he has to take birth in an intermediate order of being.[509] Listen to me as I tell thee what the different acts are by doing which the Jiva, stupefied by folly, has to take birth in different orders of being, as declared in the Vedas, the scriptures, and the (sacred) histories. Mortals have to go to the frightful regions of Yama. In those regions, O king, there are places that are fraught with every merit and that are worthy on that account of being the abodes of the very deities. There are, again, places in those regions that are worse than those which are inhabited by animals and birds. Indeed, there are spots of these kinds in the abode of Yama which (so far as its happier regions are concerned) is equal to the region of Brahman himself in merits. Creatures, bound by their acts, endure diverse kinds of misery. I shall, after this, tell thee what those acts and dispositions are in consequence of which a person obtains to an end that is fraught with great misery and terror. If a regenerate person, having studied the four Vedas, becomes stupefied by folly and accepts a gift from a fallen man, he has then to take birth in the asinine order. He has to live as an ass for five and ten years. Casting off his asinine form, he has next to take birth as an ox, in which state he has to live for seven years. Casting off his bovine form, he has next to take birth as a Rakshasa of regenerate order. Living as Rakshasa of the regenerate order for three months, he then regains his status (in his next birth) of a Brahmana.[510] A Brahmana, by officiating at the sacrifice of a fallen person, has to take birth as a vile worm. In this form he has to live for five and ten years, O Bharata. Freed from the status of a worm, he next takes birth as an ass. As an ass he has to live for five years, and then a hog, in which state also he has to remain for as many years. After that, he takes birth as a cock, and living for five years in that form, he takes birth as a jackal and lives for as many years in that state. He has next to take birth as a dog, and living thus for a year he regains his status of humanity. That foolish disciple who offends his preceptor by doing any injury to him, has certainly to undergo three transformations in this world. Such a person, O monarch, has in the first instance to become a dog. He has then to become a beast of prey, and then an ass. Living his asinine form, he has to wander for some time in great affliction as a spirit. After the expiration of that period, he has to take birth as a Brahmana. That sinful disciple who even in thought commits adultery with the wife of his preceptor, has in consequence of such a sinful heart, to undergo many fierce shapes in this world. First taking birth in the canine order he has to live for three years. Casting off the canine form when death comes, he takes birth as a worm or vile vermin. In this form he has to live for a year. Leaving that form he succeeds in regaining his status as a human being of the regenerate order. If the preceptor kills, without reason, his disciple who is even as a son to him, he has, in consequence of such a wilful act of sin on his part, to take birth as a beast of prey. That son who disregards his father and mother, O king, has to take birth, after leaving off his human form as an animal of the asinine order. Assuming the asinine form he has to live for ten years. After that he has to take birth as a crocodile, in which form he has to live for a year. After that he regains the human form. That son with whom his parents become angry, has, in consequence of his evil thoughts towards them, to take birth as an ass. As an ass he has to live for ten months. He has then to take birth as a dog and to remain as such for four and ten months. After that he has to take birth as a cat and living in that form for seven months he regains his status of humanity. Having spoken ill of parents, one has to take birth as a Sarika. Striking them, one has to take birth, O king, as tortoise. Living as a tortoise for ten years, he has next to take birth as a porcupine. After that he has to take birth as a snake, and living for six months in that form he regains the status of humanity. That man who, while subsisting upon the food that his royal master supplies, commits acts that are injurious to the interests of his master,--that man, thus stupefied by folly, has after death to take birth as an ape. For ten years he has to live as an ape, and after that for five years as a mouse. After that he has to become a dog, and living in that form for a period of six months he succeeds in regaining his status of humanity. That man who misappropriates what is deposited with him in trustfulness has to undergo a hundred transformations. He at last takes birth as a vile worm. In that order he has to live for a period of ten and five years, O Bharata. Upon the exhaustion of his great demerit in this way, he succeeds in regaining his status of humanity. That man who harbours malice towards others has, after death, to take birth as a Sarngaka. That man of wicked understanding who becomes guilty of breach of trust has to take birth as a fish. Living as a fish for eight years, he takes birth, O Bharata, as a deer. Living as a deer for four months, he has next to take birth as a goat. After the expiration of a full year he casts off his goatish body, he takes birth then as a worm. After that he succeeds in regaining his status of humanity. That shameless insensate man who, through stupefaction, steals paddy, barley, sesame, Masha, Kulattha, oil-seeds, oats, Kalaya, Mudga, wheat, Atasi, and other kinds of corn, has to take birth as a mouse[511]. After leading the life for some time he has to take birth as a hog. As soon as he takes birth as a hog he has to die of disease. In consequence of his sin, that foolish man has next to take birth as a dog, O king. Living as a dog for five years, he then regains his status of humanity. Having committed an act of adultery with the spouse of another man, one has to take birth as a wolf. After that he has to assume the forms of a dog and jackal and vulture. He has next to take birth as a snake and then as a Kanka and then as a crane.[512] That man of sinful soul who, stupefied by folly, commits an act of sexual congress with the spouse of a brother, has to take birth as a male Kokila and to live in that form for a whole year, O king. He who, through lust, commits an act of sexual congress with the wife of a friend, or the wife of preceptor, or the wife of his king, has, after death, to take the form of a hog. He has to live in his porcine form for five years and then to assume that of a wolf for ten years. For the next five years he has to assume that of a wolf for ten years. For the next five years he has to live as a cat and then for the next ten years as a cock. He has next to live for three months as an ant, and then as a worm for a month. Having undergone these transformations he has next to live as a vile worm for four and ten years. When his sin becomes exhausted by such chastisement, he at last regains the status of humanity. When a wedding is about to take place, or a sacrifice, or an act of gifts is about to be made, O thou of great puissance, the man who offers any obstruction, has to take birth in his next life as a vile worm. Assuming such a form he has to live, O Bharata, for five and ten years. When his demerit is exhausted by such suffering, he regains the status of humanity. Having once bestowed his daughter in marriage upon a person, he who seeks to bestow her again upon a second husband, has, O king, to take birth among vile worms. Assuming such a form, O Yudhisthira, he has to live for a period of three and ten years. Upon the exhaustion of his demerit by such sufferance, he regains the status of humanity. He who eats without having performed the rites in honour of the deities or those in honour of the Pitris or without having offered (even) oblations of water to both the Rishis and the Pitris, has to take birth as a crow. Living as a crow for a hundred years he next assumes the form of a cock. His next transformation is that of a snake for a month. After this, he regains the status of humanity. He who disregards his eldest brother who is even like a sire, has, after death, to take birth in the order of cranes. Having assumed that form he has to live in it for two years. Casting off that form at the conclusion of that period, he regains the status of humanity. That Sudra who has sexual intercourse with a Brahmana woman, has, after death, to take birth as a hog. As soon as he takes birth in the porcine order he dies of disease, O king. The wretch has next to take birth as a dog, O king, in consequence of his dire act of sin. Casting off his canine form he regains upon the exhaustion of his demerit, the status of humanity. The Sudra who begets offspring upon a Brahmana woman, leaving off his human form, becomes reborn as a mouse. The man who becomes guilty of ingratitude O king, has to go to the regions of Yama and there to undergo very painful and severe treatment at the hands of the messengers, provoked to fury, of the grim king of the dead. Clubs with heavy hammers and mallets, sharp-pointed lances, heated jars, all fraught with severe pain, frightful forests of sword-blades, heated sands, thorny Salmalis--these and many other instruments of the most painful torture such a man has to endure in the regions of Yama, O Bharata! The ungrateful person, O chief of Bharata's race, having endured such terrible treatment in the regions of the grim king of the dead, has to come back to this world and take birth among vile vermin.[513] He has to live as a vile vermin for a period of five and ten years, O Bharata. He has then to enter the womb and die prematurely before birth. After this, that person has to enter the womb a hundred times in succession. Indeed, having, undergone a hundred rebirths, he at last becomes born as a creature in some intermediate order between man and inanimate nature. Having endured misery for a great many years, he has to take birth as a hairless tortoise. A person that steals curds has to take birth as a crane. One becomes a monkey by stealing raw fish. That man of intelligence who steals honey has to take birth as a gadfly. By stealing fruits or roots or cakes one becomes an ant. By stealing Nishpava one becomes a Halagolaka.[514] By stealing Payasa one becomes in one's next birth a Tittiri bird. By stealing cakes one becomes a screech-owl. That man of little intelligence who steals iron has to take birth as a cow. That man of little understanding who steals white brass has to take birth as a bird of the Harita species. By stealing a vessel of silver one becomes a pigeon. By stealing a vessel of gold one has to take birth as a vile vermin. By stealing a piece of silken cloth, one becomes a Krikara. By stealing a piece of cloth made of red silk, one becomes a Vartaka.[515] By stealing a piece of muslin one becomes a parrot. By stealing a piece of cloth that is of fine texture, one becomes a duck after casting off one's human body. By stealing a piece of cloth made of cotton, one becomes a crane. By stealing a piece of cloth made of jute, one becomes a sheep in one's next life. By stealing a piece of linen, one has to take birth as a hare. By stealing different kinds of colouring matter one has to take birth as a peacock. By stealing a piece of red cloth one has to take birth as a bird of the Jivajivaka species. By stealing unguents (such as sandal-paste) and perfumes in this world, the man possessed of cupidity, O king, has to take birth as a mole. Assuming the form of a mole one has to live in it for a period of five and ten years. After the exhaustion of his demerit by such sufferings he regains the status of humanity. By stealing milk, one becomes a crane. That man, O king, who through stupefaction of the understanding, steals oil, has to take birth, after casting off this body, as an animal that subsists upon oil as his form.[516] That wretch who himself well armed, slays another while that other is unarmed, from motives of obtaining his victim's wealth or from feelings of hostility, has, after casting off his human body, to take birth as an ass. Assuming that asinine form he has to live for a period of two years and then he meets with death at the edge of a weapon. Casting off in this way his asinine body he has to take birth in his next life as a deer always filled with anxiety (at the thought of foes that may kill him). Upon the expiration of a year from the time of his birth as a deer, he has to yield up his life at the point of a weapon. Thus casting off his form of a deer, he next takes birth as a fish and dies in consequence of being dragged up in net, on the expiration of the fourth month. He has next to take birth as a beast of prey. For ten years he has to live in that form, and then he takes birth as a pard in which form he has to live for a period of five years. Impelled by the change that is brought about by time, he then casts off that form, and his demerit having been exhausted he regains the status of humanity. That man of little understanding who kills a woman has to go to the regions of Yama and to endure diverse kinds of pain and misery. He then has to pass through full one and twenty transformations. After that, O monarch, he has to take birth as a vile vermin. Living as a vermin for twenty years, he regains the status of humanity. By stealing food, one has to take birth as a bee. Living for many months in the company of other bees, his demerit becomes exhausted and he regains the status of humanity. By stealing paddy, one becomes a cat. That man who steals food mixed with sesame cakes has in his next birth to assume the form of a mouse large or small according to the largeness or smallness of the quantity stolen. He bites human beings every day and as the consequence thereof becomes sinful and travels through a varied round of rebirths. That man of foolish understanding who steals ghee has to take birth as a gallinule. That wicked person who steals fish has to take birth as a crow. By stealing salt one has to take birth as a mimicking bird. That man who misappropriates what is deposited with him through confidence, has to sustain a diminution in the period of his life, and after death has to take birth among fishes. Having lived for some time as a fish he dies and regains the human form. Regaining, however, the status of humanity, he becomes short-lived. Indeed, having committed sins, O Bharata, one has to take birth in an order intermediate between that of humanity and vegetables. Those people are entirely unacquainted with righteousness which has their own hearts for its authority. Those men that commit diverse acts of sin and then seek to expiate them by continuous vows and observances of piety, become endued with both happiness and misery and live in great anxiety of heart.[517] Those men that are of sinful conduct and that yield to the influence of cupidity and stupefaction, without doubt, take birth as Mlechchhas that do not deserve to be associated with. Those men on the other hand, who abstain from sin all their lives, become free from disease of every kind, endued with beauty of form and possessed of wealth. Women also, when they act in the way indicated, attain to births of the same kind. Indeed, they have to take births as the spouses of the animals I have indicated. I have told thee all the faults that relate to the appropriation of what belongs to others. I have discoursed to thee very briefly on the subject, O sinless one. In connection with some other subject, O Bharata, thou shalt again hear of those faults. I heard all this, O king, in days of old, from Brahman himself, and I asked all about it in a becoming way, when he discoursed on it in the midst of the celestial Rishis. I have told thee truly and in detail all that thou hadst asked me. Having listened to all this, O monarch, do thou always set thy heart on righteousness."'" SECTION CXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast told me, O regenerate one, what the end is of unrighteousness or sin. I desire now to hear, O foremost of speakers, of what the end is of Righteousness. Having committed diverse acts of sin, by what acts of people succeed in attaining to an auspicious end in this world? By what acts also do people attain to an auspicious end in heaven?" "'Vrihaspati said, "By committing sinful acts with perverted mind, one yields to the sway of unrighteousness and as a consequence goeth to hell. That man who, having perpetrated sinful acts through stupefaction of mind, feels the pangs of repentance and sets his heart on contemplation (of the deity), has not to endure the consequences of his sins. One becomes freed from one's sins in proportion as one repents for them. If one having committed a sin, O king, proclaims it in the presence of Brahmanas conversant with duties, one becomes quickly cleansed from the obloquy arising from one's sin. Accordingly as one becomes cleansed therefrom fully or otherwise, like a snake freed from his diseased slough. By making, with a concentrated mind, gifts of diverse kinds unto a Brahmana, and concentrating the mind (on the deity), one attains to an auspicious end. I shall now tell thee what those gifts are, O Yudhisthira, by making which a person, even if guilty of having committed sinful acts, may become endued with merit. Of all kinds of gifts, that of food is regarded as the best. One desirous of attaining to merit should, with a sincere heart, make gifts of food. Food is the life-breath of men. From it all creatures are born. All the worlds of living creatures are established upon food. Hence food is applauded. The deities, Rishis, Pitris, and men, all praise food. King Rantideva, in days of old, proceeded to Heaven by making gifts of food. Food that is good and that has been acquired lawfully, should be given, with a cheerful heart, unto such Brahmanas as are possessed of Vedic lore. That man has never to take birth in an intermediate order, whose food, given with a cheerful heart is taken by a thousand Brahmanas. A person, O chief of men, by feeding ten thousand Brahmanas, becomes cleansed of the piety and devoted to Yoga practices. A Brahmana conversant with the Vedas, by giving away food acquired by him as alms, unto a Brahmana devoted to the study of the Vedas, succeeds in attaining to happiness here. That Kshatriya who, without taking anything that belongs to a Brahmana, protects his subjects lawfully, and makes gifts of food, obtained by the exercise of his strength, unto Brahmanas foremost in Vedic knowledge, with concentrated heart, succeeds by such conduct, O thou of righteous soul, in cleansing himself, O son of Pandu, of all his sinful acts. That Vaisya who divides the produce of his fields into six equal shares and makes a gift of one of those shares unto Brahmanas, succeeds by such conduct in cleansing himself from every sin. That Sudra who, earning food by hard labour and at the risk of life itself, makes a gift of it to Brahmanas, becomes cleansed from every sin. That man who, by putting forth his physical strength, earns food without doing any act of injury to any creature, and makes gift of it unto Brahmanas succeeds in avoiding all calamities. A person by cheerfully making gifts of food acquired by lawful means unto Brahmanas pre-eminent for Vedic lore, becomes cleansed of all his sins. By treading in the path of the righteous one becomes freed from all sins. A person by making gifts of such food as is productive of great energy, becomes himself possessed of great energy. The path made by charitable persons is always trod by those that are endued with wisdom. They that make gifts of food are regarded as givers of life. The merit they acquire by such gifts is eternal. Hence, a person should, under all circumstances, seek to earn food by lawful means, and having earned to make always gifts of it unto deserving men. Food is the great refuge of the world of living creatures. By making gifts of food, one has never to go to hell. Hence, one should always make gifts of food, having earned it by lawful means. The householder should always seek to eat after having made a gift of food unto a Brahmana. Every man should make the day fruitful by making gifts of food.[518] A person by feeding, O king, a thousand Brahmanas all of whom are conversant with duties and the scriptures and the sacred histories, has not to go to Hell and to return to this world for undergoing rebirths. Endued with the fruition of every wish, he enjoys great felicity hereafter. Possessed of such merit, he sports in happiness, freed from every anxiety, possessed of beauty of form and great fame and endued with wealth. I have thus told thee all about the high merit of gifts of food. Even this is the root of all righteousness and merit, as also of all gifts, O Bharata!"'" SECTION CXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Abstention from injury, the observance of the Vedic ritual, meditation, subjugation of the senses, penances, and obedient services rendered to the preceptors,--which amongst these is fraught with the greatest merit with respect to a person?" "'Vrihaspati said, "All these six are fraught with merit. They are different doors of piety. I shall discourse upon them presently. Do thou listen to them, O chief of the Bharatas! I shall tell thee what constitutes the highest good of a human being. That man who practises the religion of universal compassion achieves his highest good. That man who keeps under control the three faults, viz., lust, wrath, and cupidity, by throwing them upon all creatures (and practises the virtue of compassion), attains to success[519]. He who, from motives of his own happiness, slays other harmless creatures with the rod of chastisement, never attains to happiness, in the next world. That man who regards all creatures as his own self, and behaves towards them as towards his own self, laying aside the rod of chastisement and completely subjugating his wrath, succeeds in attaining to happiness. The very deities, who are desirous of a fixed abode, become stupefied in ascertaining the track of that person who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures and looks upon them all as his own self, for such a person leaves no track behind.[520] One should never do that to another which one regards as injurious to one's own self. This, in brief, is the rule of Righteousness. One by acting in a different way by yielding to desire, becomes guilty of unrighteousness. In refusals and gifts, in happiness and misery, in the agreeable, and the disagreeable, one should judge of their effects by a reference to one's own self.[521] When one injures another, the injured turns round and injures the injurer. Similarly, when one cherishes another, that other cherishes the cherisher. One should frame one's rule of conduct according to this. I have told thee what Righteousness is even by this subtile way."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The preceptor of the deities, possessed of great intelligence, having said this unto king Yudhishthira the just, ascended upwards for proceeding to Heaven, before our eyes.'" SECTION CXIV "Vaisampayana said, 'After this, king Yudhishthira, endued with great energy, and the foremost of eloquent men, addressed his grandsire lying on his bed of arrows, in the following words.' "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou of great intelligence, the Rishis and Brahmanas and the deities, led by the authority of the Vedas, all applaud that religion which has compassion for its indication. But, O king, what I ask thee is this: how does a man, who has perpetrated acts of injury to others in word, thought and deed, succeed in cleansing himself from misery?" "'Bhishma said, "Utterers of Brahma have said that there are four kinds of compassion or abstention from injury. If even one of those four kinds be not observed, the religion of compassion, it is said, is not observed. As all four-footed animals are incapable of standing on three legs, even so the religion of compassion cannot stand if any of those four divisions or parts be wanting. As the footprints of all other animals are engulfed in those of the elephant, even so all other religions are said to be comprehended in that of compassion. A person becomes guilty of injury through acts, words and thoughts[522]. Discarding it mentally at the outset, one should next discard in word and thought. He who, according to this rule, abstains from eating meat is said to be cleansed in a threefold way. It is heard that utterers of Brahma ascribe to three causes (the sin of eating meat). That sin may attach to the mind, to words, and to acts. It is for this reason that men of wisdom who are endued with penances refrain from eating meat. Listen to me, O king, as I tell thee what the faults are that attach to the eating of meat. The meat of other animals is like the flesh of one's son. That foolish person, stupefied by folly, who eats meat is regarded as the vilest of human beings. The union of father and mother produces an offspring. After the same manner, the cruelty that a helpless and sinful wretch commits, produces its progeny of repeated rebirths fraught with great misery. As the tongue is the cause of the knowledge or sensation of taste, so the scriptures declare, attachment proceeds from taste.[523] Well-dressed, cooked with salt or without salt, meat, in whatever form one may take it, gradually attracts the mind and enslaves it. How will those foolish men that subsist upon meat succeed in listening to the sweet music of (celestial) drums and cymbals and lyres and harps? They who eat meat applaud it highly, suffering themselves to be stupefied by its taste which they pronounce to be something inconceivable, undescribable, and unimaginable. Such praise even of meat is fraught with demerit. In former days, many righteous men, by giving the flesh of their own bodies, protected the flesh of other creatures and as a consequence of such acts of merit, have proceeded to heaven. In this way, O monarch the religion of compassion is surrounded by four considerations. I have thus declared to thee that religion which comprises all other religions within it."'" SECTION CXV "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast told it many times that abstention from injury is the highest religion. In Sraddhas, however, that are performed in honour of the Pitris, persons for their own good should make offerings of diverse kinds of meat. Thou hast said so while discoursing formerly upon the ordinances in respect of Sraddhas. How can meat, however, be procured without slaying a living creature? Thy declarations, therefore, seem to me to be contradictory. A doubt has, therefore, arisen in our mind respecting the duty of abstaining from meat. What are the faults that one incurs by eating meat, and what are the merits that one wins? What are the demerits of him who eats meat by himself killing a living creature? What are the merits of him who eats the meat of animals killed by others? What the merits and demerits of him who kills a living creature for another? Or of him who eats meat buying it of others? I desire, O sinless one, that thou shouldst discourse to me on this topic in detail. I desire to ascertain this eternal religion with certainty. How does one attain to longevity? How does one acquire strength? How does one attain to faultlessness of limbs? Indeed, how does one become endued with excellent indications?" "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me, O scion of Kuru's race, what the merit is that attaches to abstention from meat. Listen to me as I declare to thee what the excellent ordinances, in truth, are on this head. Those high-souled persons who desire beauty, faultlessness of limbs, long life, understanding, mental and physical strength, and memory, should abstain from acts of injury. On this topic, O scion of Kuru's race, innumerable discourses took place between the Rishis. Listen, O Yudhishthira, what their opinion was. The merit acquired by that person, O Yudhishthira, who, with the steadiness of a vow, adores the deities every month in horse-sacrifices, is equal to his who discards honey and meat. The seven celestial Rishis, the Valakhilyas, and those Rishis who drink the rays of the sun, endued with great wisdom, applaud abstention from meat. The Self-born Manu has said that that man who does not eat meat, or who does not slay living creatures, or who does not cause them to be slain, is a friend of all creatures. Such a man is incapable of being oppressed by any creature. He enjoys the confidence of all living beings. He always enjoys, besides, the approbation and commendation of the righteous. The righteous-souled Narada has said that that man who wishes to increase his own flesh by eating the flesh of other creatures, meets with calamity. Vrihaspati has said that that man who abstains from honey and meat acquires the merit of gifts and sacrifices and penances. In my estimation, these two persons are equal, viz., he who adores the deities every month in a horse-sacrifice for a space of hundred years and he who abstains from honey and meat. In consequence of abstention from meat one comes to be regarded as one who always adores the deities in sacrifices, or as one who always makes gifts to others, or as one who always undergoes the severest austerities. That man who having eaten meat gives it up afterwards, acquires merit by such an act that is so great that a study of all the Vedas or a performance, O Bharata, of all the sacrifices, cannot bestow its like. It is exceedingly difficult to give up meat after one has become acquainted with its taste. Indeed, it is exceedingly difficult for such a person to observe the high vow of abstention from meat, a vow that assures every creature by dispelling all fear. That learned person who giveth to all living creatures the Dakshina of complete assurance comes to be regarded, without doubt, as the giver of life-breaths in this world.[524] Even this is the high religion which men of wisdom applaud. The life-breaths of other creatures are as dear to them as those of one's to one's own self. Men endued with intelligence and cleansed souls should always behave towards other creatures after the manner of that behaviour which they like others to observe towards themselves. It is seen that even those men who are possessed of learning and who seek to achieve the highest good in the form of Emancipation, are not free from the fear of death. What need there be said of those innocent and healthy creatures endued with love of life, when they are sought to be slain by sinful wretches subsisting by slaughter? For this reason, O monarch, know that the discarding of meat is the highest refuge of religion, of heaven, and of happiness. Abstention from injury is the highest religion. It is, again, the highest penance. It is also the highest truths from which all duty proceeds. Flesh cannot be had from grass or wood or stone. Unless a living creature is slain, it cannot be had. Hence is the fault in eating flesh. The deities who subsist upon Swaha, Swadha, and nectar, are devoted to truth and sincerity. Those persons, however, who are for gratifying the sensation of taste, should be known as Rakshasas wedded to the attribute of Passion. That man who abstains from meat, is never put in fear, O king, by any creature, wherever he may be, viz., in terrible wildernesses or inaccessible fastnesses, by day or by night, or at the two twilights, in the open squares of towns or in assemblies of men, from upraised weapons or in places where there is great fright from wild animals or snakes. All creatures seek his protection. He is an object of confidence with all creatures. He never causes any anxiety in others, and himself has never to become anxious. If there were nobody who ate flesh there would then be nobody to kill living creatures. The man who kills living creatures kills them for the sake of the person who eats flesh. If flesh were regarded as inedible, there would then be no slaughter of living creatures. It is for the sake of the eater that the slaughter of living creatures goes on in the world. Since, O thou of great splendour, the period of life is shortened of persons who slaughter living creatures or cause them to be slaughtered, it is clear that the person who wishes his own good should give up meat entirely. Those fierce persons who are engaged in slaughter of living creatures, never find protectors when they are in need. Such persons should always be molested and persecuted even as beasts of prey. Through cupidity or stupefaction of the understanding, for the sake of strength and energy, or through association with the sinful, the disposition manifests itself in men for sinning. That man who seeks to increase his own flesh by (eating) the flesh of others, has to live in this world in great anxiety and after death has to take birth in indifferent races and families. High Rishis devoted to the observance of vows and self-restraint have said that abstention from meat is worthy of every praise, productive of fame and Heaven, and a great propitiation by itself. This I heard in days of old, O son of Kunti, from Markandeya when that Rishi discoursed on the demerits of eating flesh. He who eats the flesh of animals that are desirous of living but that have been killed by either himself or others, incurs the sin that attaches to the slaughter for his act of cruelty. He who purchases flesh slays living creatures through his wealth. He who eats flesh slays living creatures through such act of eating. He who binds or seizes and actually kills living creatures is the slaughterer. Those are the three kinds of slaughter, each of these three acts being so. He who does not himself eat flesh but approves of an act of slaughter becomes stained with the sin of slaughter. By abstaining from meat and showing compassion to all creatures one becomes incapable of being molested by any creature, and acquires a long life, perfect health, and happiness. The merit that is acquired by a person by abstaining from meat, we have heard, is superior to that of one who makes presents of gold, of kine, and of land. One should never eat meat of animals not dedicated in sacrifices and that are, therefore, slain for nothing, and that has not been offered to the gods and Pitris with the aid of the ordinances. There is not the slightest doubt that a person by eating such meat goes to Hell. If one eats the meat that has been sanctified in consequence of its having been procured from animals dedicated in sacrifices and that have been slain for the purpose of feeding Brahmanas, one incurs a little fault. By behaving otherwise, one becomes stained with sin. That wretch among men who slays living creatures for the sake of those who would eat them, incurs great demerit. The eater's demerit is not so great. That wretch among men who, following the path of religious rites and sacrifices laid down in the Vedas, would kill a living creature from desire of eating its flesh, would certainly become a resident of hell. That man who having eaten flesh abstains from it afterwards, attains to great merit in consequence of such abstention from sin. He who arranges for obtaining flesh, he who approves of those arrangements, he who slays, he who buys or sells, he who cooks, and he who eats, are all regarded as eaters of flesh. I shall now cite another authority, depending upon that was declared by the ordainer himself, and established in the Vedas. It has been said that that religion which has acts for its indications has been ordained for householders, O chief of kings, and not for those men who are desirous of emancipation. Manu himself has said that meat which is sanctified with mantras and properly dedicated, according to the ordinances of the Vedas, in rites performed in honour of the Pitris, is pure. All other meat falls under the class of what is obtained by useless slaughter, and is, therefore, uneatable, and leads to Hell and infamy. One should never eat, O chief of Bharata's race, like a Rakshasa, any meat that has been obtained by means not sanctioned by the ordinance. Indeed, one should never eat flesh obtained from useless slaughter and that has not been sanctified by the ordinance. That man who wishes to avoid calamity of every kind should abstain from the meat of every living creature. It is heard that in the ancient Kalpa, persons, desirous of attaining to regions of merit hereafter, performed sacrifices with seeds, regarding such animals as dedicated by them. Filled with doubts respecting the propriety of eating flesh, the Rishis asked Vasu the ruler of the Chedis for solving them. King Vasu, knowing that flesh is inedible, answered that is was edible, O monarch. From that moment Vasu fell down from the firmament on the earth. After this he once more repeated his opinion, with the result that he had to sink below the earth for it. Desirous of benefiting all men, the high-souled Agastya, by the aid of his penances, dedicated, once for all, all wild animals of the deer species to the deities. Hence, there is no longer any necessity of sanctifying those animals for offering them to the deities and the Pitris. Served with flesh according to the ordinance, the Pitris become gratified. Listen to me, O king of kings, as I tell thee this, O sinless one. There is complete happiness in abstaining from meat, O monarch. He that undergoes severe austerities for a hundred years and he that abstains from meat, are both equal in point of merit. Even this is my opinion, In the lighted fortnight of the month of Karttika in especial, one should abstain from honey and meat. In this, it has been ordained, there is great merit. He who abstains from meat for the four months of the rains acquires the four valued blessings of achievements, longevity, fame and might. He who abstains for the whole month of Karttika from meat of every kind, transcends all kinds of woe and lives in complete happiness. They who abstain from flesh by either months or fortnights at a stretch have the region of Brahma ordained for them in consequence of their abstention from cruelty. Many kings in ancient days, O son of Pritha, who had constituted themselves the souls of all creatures and who were conversant with the truths of all things, viz., Soul and Not-soul, had abstained from flesh either for the whole of the month of Karttika or for the whole of the lighted fortnight in that month. They were Nabhaga and Amvarisha and the high-souled Gaya and Ayu and Anaranya and Dilipa and Raghu and Puru and Kartavirya and Aniruddha and Nahusha and Yayati and Nrigas and Vishwaksena and Sasavindu and Yuvanaswa and Sivi, the son of Usinara, and Muchukunda and Mandhatri, and Harischandra. Do thou always speak the truth. Never speak an untruth. Truth is an eternal duty. It is by truth that Harischandra roves through heaven like a second Chandramas. These other kings also, viz., Syenachitra, O monarch, and Somaka and Vrika and Raivata and Rantideva and Vasu and Srinjaya, and Dushmanta and Karushma and Rama and Alarka and Nala, and Virupaswa and Nimi and Janaka of great intelligence, and Aila and Prithu and Virasena, and Ikshvaku, and Sambhu, and Sweta, and Sagara, and Aja and Dhundhu and Suvahu, and Haryaswa and Kshupa and Bharata, O monarch, did not eat flesh for the month of Karttika and as the consequence thereof attained to heaven, and endued with prosperity, blazed forth with effulgence in the region of Brahman, adored by Gandharvas and surrounded by thousand damsels of great beauty. Those high-souled men who practise this excellent religion which is characterised by abstention from injury succeed in attaining to a residence in heaven. These righteous men who, from the time of birth, abstain from honey and meat and wine, are regarded as Munis. That man who practises this religion consisting of abstention from meat or who recites it for causing others to hear it, will never have to go to hell even if he be exceedingly wicked in conduct in other respects. He, O king, who (often-times) reads these ordinances about abstention from meat, that are sacred and adored by the Rishis, or hears it read, becomes cleansed of every sin and attains to great felicity in consequence of the fruition of every wish. Without doubt, he attains also to a position of eminence among kinsmen. When afflicted with calamity, he readily transcends it. When obstructed with impediments, he succeeds in freeing himself from them with the utmost ease. When ill with disease, he becomes cured speedily, and afflicted with sorrow he becomes liberated from it with greatest ease. Such a man has never to take birth in the intermediate order of animals or birds. Born in the order of humanity, he attains to great beauty of person. Endued with great prosperity, O chief of Kuru's race, he acquires great fame as well. I have thus told thee, O king, all that should be said on the subject of abstention from meat, together with the ordinances respecting both the religion of Pravritti and Nivritti as framed by the Rishis."'" SECTION CXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Alas, those cruel men, who, discarding diverse kinds of food, covet only flesh, are really like great Rakshasas! Alas, they do not relish diverse kinds of cakes and diverse sorts of potherbs and various species of Khanda with juicy flavour so much as they do flesh! My understanding, for this reason, becomes stupefied in this matter. I think, when such is the case, that, there is nothing which can compare with flesh in the matter of taste. I desire, therefore, O puissant one, to hear what the merits are of abstention from flesh, and the demerits that attach to the eating of flesh, O chief of Bharata's race. Thou art conversant with every duty. Do thou discourse to me in full agreeably to the ordinances on duty, on this subject. Do tell me what, indeed, is edible and what inedible. Tell me, O grandsire, what is flesh, of what substances it is, the merits that attach to abstention from it, and what the demerits are that attach to the eating of flesh." "'Bhishma said, "It is even so, O mighty-armed one, as thou sayest. There is nothing on earth that is superior to flesh in point of taste. There is nothing that is more beneficial then flesh to persons that are lean, or weak, or afflicted with disease, or addicted to sexual congress or exhausted with travel. Flesh speedily increases strength. It produces great development. There is no food, O scorcher of foes, that is superior to flesh. But, O delighter of the Kurus, the merits are great that attach to men that abstain from it. Listen to me as I discourse to thee on it. That man who wished to increase his own flesh by the flesh of another living creature is such that there is none meaner and more cruel than he. In this world there is nothing that is dearer to a creature than his life. Hence (instead of taking that valuable possession), one should show compassion to the lives of others as one does to one's own life. Without doubt, O son, flesh has its origin in the vital seed. There is great demerit attaching to its eating, as, indeed, there is merit in abstaining from it. One does not, however, incur any fault by eating flesh sanctified according to the ordinances of the Vedas. The audition is heard that animals were created for sacrifice. They who eat flesh in any other way are said to follow the Rakshasa practice. Listen to me as I tell thee what the ordinance is that has been laid down for the Kshatriyas. They do not incur any fault by eating flesh that has been acquired by expenditure of prowess. All deer of the wilderness were dedicated to the deities and the Pitris in days of old, O king, by Agastya. Hence, the hunting of deer is not censured. There can be no hunting without risk of one's own life. There is equality of risk between the slayer and the slain. Either the animal is killed or it kills the hunter. Hence, O Bharata, even royal sages betake themselves to the practice of hunting. By such conduct they do not become stained with sin. Indeed, the practice is not regarded as sinful. There is nothing, O delighter of the Kurus, that is equal in point of merit, either here or hereafter, to the practice of compassion to all living creatures. The man of compassion has no fear. Those harmless men that are endued with compassion have both this world and the next. Persons conversant with duty say that that Religion is worthy of being called Religion which has abstention from cruelty for its indication. The man of cleansed soul should do only such acts as have compassion for their soul. That flesh which is dedicated in sacrifices performed in honour of the deities and the Pitris is called Havi (and, as such, is worthy of being eaten). That man who is devoted to compassion and who behaves with compassion towards others, has no fear to entertain from any creature. It is heard that all creatures abstain from causing any fear unto such a creature. Whether he is wounded or fallen down or prostrated or weakened or bruised, in whatever state he may be, all creatures protect him. Indeed, they do so, under all circumstances, whether he is on even or uneven ground. Neither snakes nor wild animals, neither Pisachas nor Rakshasas, ever slay him. When circumstances of fear arise, he becomes freed from fear who frees others from situations of fear. There has never been, nor will there ever be, a gift that is superior to the gift of life. It is certain that there is nothing dearer to oneself than one's life. Death, O Bharata, is a calamity or evil unto all creatures. When the time comes for Death, a trembling of the whole frame is seen in all creatures. Enduring birth in the uterus, decrepitude and afflictions of diverse kinds, in this ocean of the world, living creatures may be seen to be continually going forward and coming back. Every creature is afflicted by death. While dwelling in the uterus, all creatures are cooked in the fluid juices, that are alkaline and sour and bitter, of urine and phlegm and faeces,--juices that produce painful sensations and are difficult to bear. There in the uterus, they have to dwell in a state of helplessness and are even repeatedly torn and pierced. They that are covetous of meat are seen to be repeatedly cooked in the uterus in such a state of helplessness. Attaining to diverse kinds of birth, they are cooked in the hell called Kumbhipaka. They are assailed and slain, and in this way have to travel repeatedly. There is nothing so dear to one as one's life when one comes to this world. Hence, a person of cleansed soul should be compassionate to all living creatures. That man, O king, who abstains from every kind of meat from his birth, without doubt, acquires a large space in Heaven. They who eat the flesh of animals who are desirous of life, are themselves eaten by the animals they eat, without doubt. Even this is my opinion. 'Since he hath eaten me, I shall eat him in return,'--even this, O Bharata, constitutes the character as Mansa of Mansa.[525] The slayer is always slain. After him the eater meets with the same fate. He who acts with hostility towards another (in this life) becomes the victim of similar acts done by that other. Whatever acts one does in whatever bodies, one has to suffer the consequences thereof in those bodies.[526] Abstention from cruelty is the highest Religion. Abstention from cruelty is the highest self-control. Abstention from cruelty is the highest gift. Abstention from cruelty is the highest penance. Abstention from cruelty is the highest sacrifice. Abstention from cruelty is the highest puissance. Abstention from cruelty is the highest friend. Abstention from cruelty is the highest happiness. Abstention from cruelty is the highest truth. Abstention from cruelty is the highest Sruti. Gifts made in all sacrifices, ablutions performed in all sacred waters, and the merit that one acquires from making all kinds of gifts mentioned in the scriptures,--all these do not come up to abstention from cruelty (in point of the merit that attaches to it). The penances of a man that abstains from cruelty are inexhaustible. The man that abstains from cruelty is regarded as always performing sacrifices. The man that abstains from cruelty is the father and mother of all creatures. Even these, O chief of Kuru's race, are some of the merits of abstention from cruelty. Altogether, the merits that attach to it are so many that they are incapable of being exhausted even if one were to speak for a hundred years."'" SECTION CXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Desiring to die or desiring to live, many persons give up their lives in the great sacrifice (of battle). Tell me, O grandsire, what is the end that these attain to. To throw away life in battle is fraught with sorrow for men. O thou of great wisdom, thou knowest that to give up life is difficult for men whether they are in prosperity, or adversity, in felicity or calamity. In my opinion, thou art possessed of omniscience. Do thou tell me the reason of this." "'Bhishma said, "In prosperity or adversity, in happiness or woe, living creatures, O lord of the earth, coming into this world, live according to a particular tenor. Listen to me as I explain the reason to thee. The question thou hast asked me is excellent, O Yudhishthira! In this connection, O king, I shall explain to thee the old narrative of the discourse that took place in former times between the Island-born Rishi and a crawling worm. In days of old, when that learned Brahmana, viz., the Island-born Krishna, having identified himself with Brahma, roamed over the world, he beheld, on a road over which cars used to pass, a worm moving speedily. The Rishi was conversant with the course of every creature and the language of every animal. Possessed of omniscience, he addressed the worm he saw in these words. "'"Vyasa said, 'O worm, thou seemest to be exceedingly alarmed, and to be in great haste. Tell me, whither dost thou run, and whence hast thou been afraid.' "'"The worm said, 'Hearing the rattle of yonder large car I am filled with fear. O thou of great intelligence, fierce is the roar it makes. It is almost come! The sound is heard. Will it not kill me? It is for this that I am flying away. The sound, as it is heard from a near point, I catch, of the bulls I hear. They are breathing hard under the whip of the driver, as they are drawing the heavy burden. I hear also the diverse sounds made by the men who are driving the bulls. Such sounds are incapable of being heard by a creature that like us has taken his birth in the order of worms. It is for this reason that I am flying from this situation of great fright. Death is felt by all creatures to be fraught with pain. Life is an acquisition difficult to make. Hence, I fly away in fear, I do not wish to pass from a state of happiness to one of woe.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, the Island-born Vyasa said, 'O worm, whence can be thy happiness? Thou belongest to the intermediate order of being. I think, death would be fraught with happiness to thee! Sound, touch, taste, scent, and diverse kinds of excellent enjoyments are unknown to thee, O worm! I think, death will prove a benefit to thee!' "'"The worm said, 'A living creature, in whatever situation he may be placed, becomes attached to it. In even this order of being I am happy, I think, O thou of great wisdom! It is for this that I wish to live. In even this condition, every object of enjoyment exists for me according to the needs of my body. Human beings and those creatures that spring from immobile objects have different enjoyments. In my former life I was a human being. O puissant one, I was a Sudra possessed of great wealth. I was not devoted to the Brahmanas. I was cruel, vile in conduct, and a usurer. I was harsh in speech. I regarded cunning as wisdom. I hated all creatures. Taking advantage of pretexts in compacts made between myself and others, I was always given to taking away what belonged to others. Without feeding servants and guests arrived at my house, I used to fill, when hungry, my own stomach, under the impulse of pride, covetous of good food. Greedy I was of wealth, I never dedicated, with faith and reverence, any food to the deities and the Pitris although duty required me to dedicate food unto them. Those men that came to me, moved by fear, for seeking my protection, I sent adrift without giving them any protection. I did not extend my protection to those that came to me with prayers for dispelling their fear. I used to feel unreasonable envy at seeing other people's wealth, and corn, and spouses held dear by them, and articles of drink, and good mansions. Beholding the happiness of others, I was filled with envy and I always wished them poverty. Following that course of conduct which promised to crown my own wishes with fruition, I sought to destroy the virtue, wealth, and pleasures of other people. In that past life of mine, I committed diverse deeds largely fraught with cruelty and such other passions. Recollecting those acts I am filled with repentance and grief even as one is filled with grief at the loss of one's dear son. In consequence of these acts of mine I do not know what the fruits are of good deeds. I, however, worshipped my old mother and on one occasion worshipped a Brahmana. Endued with birth and accomplishments, that Brahmana, in course of his wanderings, came to my house once as a guest. I received him with reverent hospitality. In consequence of the merit attaching to that act, my memory has not forsaken me. I think that in consequence of that act I shall once more succeed in regaining happiness. O thou of ascetic wealth, thou knowest everything. Do thou in kindness tell me what is for my good.'"'" SECTION CXVIII "'"Vyasa said, 'It is in consequence of a meritorious act, O worm, that thou, though born in the intermediate order of being, art not stupefied. That act is mine, O worm, in consequence of which thou art not stupefied.[527] In consequence of the puissance of my penances, I am able to rescue a being of demerit by granting him a sight only of my person. There is no stronger might than the might that attaches to penances. I know, O worm, that thou hast taken birth in the order of worms through the evil acts of thy past life. If, however, thou thinkest of attaining to righteousness and merit, thou mayst again attain to it. Deities as well as beings crowned with ascetic success, enjoy or endure the consequence of acts done by them in this field of action. Amongst men also, when acts of merit are performed, they are performed from desire of fruit (and not with disregard for fruit). The very accomplishment that one seeks to acquire are sought from desire of the happiness they will bring.[528] Learned or ignorant (in a former life) the creature that is, in this life, destitute of speech and understanding and hands and feet, is really destitute of everything.[529] He that becomes a superior Brahmana adores, while alive, the deities of the sun and the moon, uttering diverse sacred Mantras. O worm, thou shalt attain to that state of existence. Attaining to that status, thou wilt enjoy all the elements converted into articles of enjoyment. When thou hast attained to that state, I shall impart to thee Brahma. Or, if thou wishest, I may place thee in any other status!' The worm, agreeing to the words of Vyasa, did not leave the road, but remained on it. Meanwhile, the large vehicle which was coming in that direction came to that spot.[530] Torn to pieces by the assault of the wheels, the worm gave up his life-breath. Born at last in the Kshatriya order through the grace of Vyasa of immeasurable puissance, he proceeded to see the great Rishi. He had, before becoming a Kshatriya, to pass through diverse orders of being, such as hedgehog and Iguana and boar and deer and bird, and Chandala and Sudra and Vaisya. Having given an account of his various transformations unto the truth-telling Rishi, and remembering the Rishi's kindness for him, the worm (now transformed into a Kshatriya) with joined palms fell at the Rishi's feet and touched them with his head. "'"The worm said, 'My present status is that high one which is coveted by all and which is attainable by the possession of the ten well-known attributes. Indeed, I who was formerly a worm have thus attained to the status of a prince. Elephants of great strength, decked with golden chains, bear me on their backs. Unto my cars are yoked Kamvoja steeds of high mettle. Numerous vehicles, unto which are attached camels and mules, bear me. With all my relatives and friends I now eat food rich with meat. Worshipped by all, I sleep, O highly blessed one, on costly beds in delightful rooms into which disagreeable winds cannot blow. Towards the small hours of every night, Sutas and Magadhas and encomiasts utter my praises even as the deities utter the agreeable praises of Indra, their chief. Through the grace of thyself that art firm in truth and endued with immeasurable energy, I who was before a worm have now become a person of the royal order. I bow my head to thee, O thou of great wisdom. Do thou command me as to what I should do now. Ordained by the puissance of thy penances, even this happy status hath now become mine!' "'"Vyasa said, 'I have today been worshipped by thee, O king, with diverse words expressive of reverence. Transformed into a worm, thy memory had become clouded. That memory has again appeared. The sin thou committed in a former life has not yet been destroyed,--that sin, viz., which was earned by thee while thou wert a Sudra covetous of wealth and cruel in behaviour and hostile to the Brahmanas. Thou wert able to obtain a sight of my person. That was an act of merit to thee while thou wert a worm. In consequence of thy having saluted and worshipped me thou shalt rise higher, for, from the Kshatriya order thou shalt rise to the status of a Brahmana, if only thou castest off thy life-breaths on the field of battle for the sake of kine or Brahmanas. O prince, enjoying much felicity and performing many sacrifices with copious presents, thou shalt attain to heaven and transformed into eternal Brahma, thou wilt have perfect beatitude. Those that take birth in the intermediate order (of animals) become (when they rise) Sudras. The Sudra rises to the status of the Vaisya; and the Vaisya to that of the Kshatriya. The Kshatriya who takes pride in the discharge of the duties of his order, succeeds in attaining to the status of a Brahmana. The Brahmana, by following a righteous conduct, attains to heaven that is fraught with great felicity.'"'" SECTION CXIX "'Bhishma said, "Having cast off the status of a worm and taken birth as a Kshatriya of great energy, the person (of whom I am speaking), remembering his previous transformations, O monarch, began to undergo severe austerities. Beholding those severe austerities of the Kshatriya who was well-conversant with religion and wealth, the Island-born Krishna, that foremost of Brahmanas, went to him. "'"Vyasa said, 'The penances that appertain, O worm, to the Kshatriya order consist of the protection of all creatures. Do thou regard these duties of the Kshatriya order to be the penances laid down for thee. Thou shalt then attain to the status of a Brahmana. Ascertaining what is right and what is wrong, and cleansing thy soul, do thou duly cherish and protect all creatures, judiciously gratifying all good desires and correcting all that is unholy. Be thou of cleansed soul, be thou contented and be thou devoted to the practice of righteousness. Conducting thyself in this way, thou wilt then, when thou castest off thy life-breaths, become a Brahmana!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Although he had retired into the woods, yet, O Yudhishthira, having heard the words of the great Rishi he began to cherish and protect his subjects righteously. Soon, O best of kings, that worm, in consequence of the due discharge of the duty of protecting his subjects, became a Brahmana after casting off his Kshatriya body. Beholding him transformed into a Brahmana, the celebrated Rishi, viz., the Island-born Krishna of great wisdom, came to him. "'"Vyasa said, 'O chief of Brahmanas, O blessed one, be not troubled (through fear of death)! He who acts righteously attains to respectable birth. He, on the other hand, who acts unrighteously attains to a low and vile birth, O thou that art conversant with righteousness, one attains to misery agreeably the measure of one's sin. Therefore, O worm, do not be troubled through fear of death. The only fear thou shouldst entertain is about the loss of righteousness. Do thou, therefore, go on practising righteousness.' "'"The worm said, 'Through thy grace, O holy one, I have attained from happy to happier positions! Having obtained such prosperity as has its roots in righteousness, I think, my demerits have been lost.'" "'Bhishma said, "The worm having, at the command of the holy Rishi, attained to the status of a Brahmana that is so difficult to attain, caused the earth to be marked with a thousand sacrificial stakes. That foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma then obtained a residence in the region of Brahman himself. Indeed, O son of Pritha, the worm attained to the highest status, viz., that of eternal Brahma, as the result of his own acts done in obedience to the counsels of Vyasa. Those bulls among Kshatriyas, also, who have cast off their life-breaths (on the field of Kurukshetra) exerting their energy the while, have all attained to a meritorious end. Therefore O king, do not mourn on their account."'" SECTION CXX "'Yudhishthira said, "Which amongst these three is superior, viz., knowledge, penances, and gifts? I ask thee, O foremost of righteous persons! Do tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the conversation between Maitreya and the Island-born Krishna. Once on a time, the Island-born Krishna, O king, while wandering over the world in disguise, proceeded to Baranasi and waited upon Maitreya who belonged by birth to a race of Munis[531]. Seeing Vyasa arrive, that foremost of Rishis, viz., Maitreya, gave him a seat and after worshipping him with due rites, fed him with excellent food. Having eaten that good food which was very wholesome and which produced every kind of gratification, the high-souled Krishna became exceedingly delighted and as he sat there, he even laughed aloud. Seeing Krishna laugh, Maitreya addressed him, saying, 'Tell me, O righteous-souled one, what the reason is of thy laughter! Thou art an ascetic, endued with capacity to control thy emotions. Great joy, it seems, has come over thee! Saluting thee, and worshipping thee with bent head, I ask thee this, viz., what the puissance is of my penances and what the high blessedness is that is thine! The acts I do are different from those which thou doest. Thou art already emancipated though still owning life-breaths. I, however, am not yet freed. For all that I think that there is not much difference between thee and me. I am again, distinguished by birth.'[532] "'"Vyasa said, 'This wonder that has filled me hath arisen from an ordinance that looks like a hyperbole, and from its paradoxical statement for the comprehension of the people. The declaration of the Vedas seems to be untrue. But why should the Vedas say an untruth? It has been said that there are three tracks which constitute the best vows of a man. One should never injure; one should always tell the truth; and one should make gifts. The Rishis of old announced this, following the declarations of the Vedas. These injunctions were heard in days of old,--they should certainly be followed by us even in our times. Even a small gift, made under the circumstances laid down, produces great fruits[533]. Unto a thirsty man thou hast given a little water with a sincere heart. Thyself thirsty and hungry, thou hast, by giving me such food, conquered many high regions of felicity, O puissant one, as, one does by many sacrifices. I am exceedingly delighted with thy very sacred gift, as also with thy penances. Thy puissance is that of Righteousness: Thy appearance is that of Righteousness. The fragrance of Righteousness is about thee. I think that all thy acts are performed agreeably to the ordinance. O son, superior to ablutions in sacred waters, superior to the accomplishment of all Vedic vows, is gift. Indeed, O Brahmana, gift is more auspicious than all sacred acts. If it be not more meritorious than all sacred acts, there can be no question about its superiority. All those rites laid down in the Vedas which thou applaudest do not come up to gift, for gift without doubt, is as I hold, fraught with very superior merit. The track that has been made by those men who make gifts is the track that is trodden by the wise. They who make gifts are regarded as givers of even the life-breaths. The duties that constitute Righteousness are established in them. As the Vedas when well-studied, as the restraining of the senses, as a life of universal Renunciation, even so is gift which is fraught with very superior merit. Thou, O son, wilt rise from joy to greater joy in consequence of thy having betaken thyself to the duty of making gifts. The man of intelligence (who practises this duty) certainly rises from joy to greater joy. We have without doubt, met with many direct instances of this. Men endued with prosperity succeed in acquiring wealth, making gifts, performing sacrifices, and earning happiness as the result thereof. It is always observed, O thou of great wisdom, to happen naturally that happiness is followed by misery and misery is followed by happiness.[534] Men of wisdom have said that human beings in this world have three kinds of conduct. Some are righteous, some are sinful, and some are neither righteous nor sinful. The conduct of the person who is devoted to Brahma is not regarded either way. His sins are never regarded as sins. So also the man who is devoted to the duties laid down for him is regarded as neither righteous nor sinful (for the observance of those duties). Those men that are devoted to sacrifices, gifts, and penances, are regarded as righteous. These, however, that injure other creatures and are unfriendly to them, are regarded as sinful. There are some men who appropriate what belongs to others. These certainly fall into Hell and meet with misery. All other acts that men do are indifferent, being regarded as neither righteous nor sinful. Do thou sport and grow and rejoice and make gifts and perform sacrifices. Neither men of knowledge nor those endued with penances will then be able to get the better of thee!'"'" SECTION CXXI "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed by Vyasa, Maitreya, who was a worshipper of acts, who had been born in a race endued with great prosperity, who was wise and possessed of great learning said unto him these words. "'"Maitreya said, 'O thou of great wisdom, without doubt it is as thou hast said. O puissant one, with thy permission I desire to say something.' "'"Vyasa said, 'Whatever thou wishest to say, O Maitreya, do thou say, O man of great wisdom, for I wish to hear thee.' "'"Maitreya said. 'Thy words on the subject of Gift are faultless and pure. Without doubt, thy soul has been cleansed by knowledge and penances. In consequence of thy soul being cleansed, even this is the great advantage I reap from it. With the aid of my understanding I see that thou art endued with high penances. As regards ourselves we succeed in acquiring prosperity through only a sight of personages like thee I think, that is due to thy grace and flows from the nature of my own acts.[535] Penances, knowledge of the Vedas, and birth in a pure race,--these are the causes of the status which one acquires of a Brahmana. When one has these three attributes, then does he come to be called a regenerate person. If the Brahmana be gratified, the Pitris and the deities are also gratified. There is nothing superior to a Brahmana possessed of Vedic lore. Without the Brahmana, all would be darkness. Nothing would be known. The four orders would not exist. The distinction between Righteousness and Unrighteousness, Truth and Falsehood, would cease. On a well-tilled field, an abundant harvest can be reaped. Even so, one may reap great merit by making gifts unto a Brahmana possessed of great learning. If there were no Brahmanas endued with Vedic lore and good conduct for accepting gifts, the wealth possessed by wealthy people would be useless. The ignorant Brahmana, by eating the food that is offered to him, destroys what he eats (for it produces no merit to him who gives it). The food that is eaten also destroys the eater (for the eater incurs sin by eating what is offered to him). That ought to be properly termed an eatable which is given away to a deserving man, in all other cases, he that takes it makes the donor's gift thrown away and the receiver is likewise ruined for his improperly accepting it. The Brahmana possessed of learning becomes the subjugator of the food that he eats. Having eaten it, he begets other food. The ignorant who eats the food offered to him loses his right to the children he begets, for the latter become his whose food has enabled the progenitor to beget them. Even this is the subtle fault that attaches to persons eating other people's food when they have not the puissance to win that food. The merit which the giver acquires by making the gift, is equal to what the taker acquires by accepting the food. Both the giver and the acceptor depend equally upon each other. Even this is what the Rishis have said. There where Brahmanas exist, possessed of Vedic lore and conduct, people are enabled to earn the sacred fruits of gifts and to enjoy them both here and hereafter. Those men who are of pure lineage, who are exceedingly devoted to penances, and who make gifts, and study the Vedas, are regarded as worthy of the most reverent worship. It is those good men that have chalked out the path by treading on which one does not become stupefied. It is those men that are the leaders of others to heaven. They are the men who bear on their shoulders the burden of sacrifices and live for eternity.'"'" SECTION CXXII "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed, the holy one replied unto Maitreya, saying 'by good luck, thou art endued with knowledge. By good luck, thy understanding is of this kind! They that are good highly applaud all righteous attributes. That personal beauty and youth and prosperity do not succeed in overwhelming thee is due to good luck. This favour done to thee is due to the kindness of the deities. Listen to me as I discourse to thee upon what is even superior (in efficacy) to gift. Whatever scriptures and religious treatises there are, whatever (righteous) inclinations are observable in the world, they have flowed in their due order, agreeably with the lead of the Vedas, according to their due order. Following them I applaud gift. Thou praisest penances and Vedic lore. Penances are sacred. Penances are the means by which one may acquire the Vedas and heaven also. With the aid of penances and of knowledge, one attains to the highest fruits, we have heard. It is by penances that one destroys one's sins and all else that is evil. It has been heard by us that with whatever purpose in view one undergoes penances, one attains the fruition thereof in consequence of those penances. The same may be said of knowledge. Whatever is difficult to accomplish, whatever is difficult to conquer, what is difficult to attain, and whatever is difficult to cross, can all be achieved with the aid of penances. Of all things, penances are possessed of very superior might. The man who drinks alcohol, or he that takes by force what belongs to others, or he that is guilty of foeticide, or he that violates the bed of his preceptor, succeeds in crossing with the aid of penances. Indeed, one becomes cleansed of all these sins through penances. One possessed of all knowledge and, therefore, having true vision, and an ascetic of whatever kind, are equal. One should always bow unto these two[536]. All men who have the Vedas for their wealth should be worshipped. Similarly, all men endued with penances deserve to be worshipped. Those who make gifts obtain happiness hereafter and much prosperity here. Righteous men of this world, by making gifts of food obtain both this world and that of Brahman himself with many other regions of superior felicity. Those men who are adored by all, themselves adore him who makes gifts. Those men that are honoured everywhere themselves honour him who make gifts. Wherever the giver goes, he hears himself praised. He who does acts and he who omits to do them gets each what is proportionate to his acts and omissions. Whether one dwells in the upper regions or in the nether, one always attains to those places to which one becomes entitled by one's acts. As regards thyself, thou wilt certainly obtain whatever food and drink thou mayst covet, for thou art endued with intelligence, good birth, Vedic lore, and compassion! Thou art possessed of youth, O Maitreya! Thou art observant of vows. Be thou devoted to Righteousness. Do thou take instructions from me regarding those duties which thou shouldst first follow,--the duties, viz., of householders. In that house in which the husband is gratified with his wedded wife, and the wife gratified with her husband, all auspicious results ensue. As filth is washed away from the body with water, as darkness is dispelled by the splendour of fire even so is sin washed off by gifts and penances. Bless thee, O Maitreya, let mansions be thine! I depart hence in peace. Do thou keep in mind what I have said. Thou shalt then be able to reap many advantages!' Maitreya then walked round his illustrious guest and bowed his head unto him, and joining his hands in reverence said, 'Let blessing be to thee also, O holy one!'"'" SECTION CXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou that art conversant with all duties, I desire to hear, in detail, what the excellent behaviour is of good and chaste women. Do thou, O grandsire, discourse to me on this." "'Bhishma said, "Once on a time, in the celestial regions, a lady named Sumana of Kekaya's race addressing Sandili possessed of great energy and conversant with the truth relating to everything and endued with omniscience, said, 'By what conduct, O auspicious lady, by what course of acts, hast thou succeeded in attaining to heaven, purged of every sin? Thou blazest forth with thy own energy like a flame of fire. Thou seemest to be a daughter of the Lord of stars, come to heaven in thy own effulgence. Thou wearest vestments of pure white, and art quite cheerful and at thy ease. Seated on that celestial chariot, thou shinest, O auspicious dame, with energy multiplied a thousandfold. Thou hast not, I ween, attained to this region of happiness by inconsiderable penances and gifts and vows. Do thou tell me the truth'. Thus questioned sweetly by Sumana, Sandili of sweet smiles, addressing her fair interrogatrix, thus answered her out of the hearing of others, 'I did not wear yellow robes; nor barks of trees. I did not shave my head; nor did I keep matted locks on my head. It is not in consequence of these acts that I have attained to the status of a celestial. I never, in heedlessness, addressed any disagreeable or evil speech to my husband. I was always devoted to the worship of the deities, the Pitris, and the Brahmanas. Always heedful I waited upon and served my mother-in-law and father-in-law. Even this was my resolution that I should never behave with deceit. I never used to stay at the door of our house nor did I speak long with anybody. I never did any evil act; I never laughed aloud; I never did any injury. I never disclosed any secret. Even thus did I bear myself always. When my husband, having left home upon any business, used to come back, I always served him by giving him a seat, and worshipped him with reverence. I never ate food of any kind which was unknown to my husband and at which my husband was not pleased. Rising at early dawn I did and caused to be done whatever was brought about and required to be accomplished for the sake of relatives and kinsmen. When my husband leaves home for going to a distant place on any business, I remain at home engaged in diverse kinds of auspicious acts for blessing his enterprise. Verily, during the absence of my husband I never use collyrium, or ornaments; I never wash myself properly or use garlands and unguents, or deck my feet with lac-dye, or person with ornaments. When my husband sleeps in peace I never awake him even if important business required his attention. I was happy to sit by him lying asleep. I never urged my husband to exert more energetically for earning wealth to support his family and relatives. I always kept secrets without disclosing them to others. I used to keep always our premises clean. That woman who with concentrated attention, adheres to this path of duty, becomes the recipient of considerable honours in heaven like a second Arundhati.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The illustrious and highly blessed Sandili, of righteous conduct, having said these words unto Sumana on the subject of woman's duties towards her husband, disappeared there and then. That man, O son of Pandu, who reads this narrative at every full moon and new moon, succeeds in attaining to heaven and enjoying great felicity in the woods of Nandana."'" SECTION CXXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Which is of superior efficacy, Conciliation or Gifts? Tell me, O chief of Bharata's race, which of these two is superior in point of efficacy." "'Bhishma said, "Some become gratified by conciliation, while others are gratified by gifts. Every man, according to his own nature, affects the one or the other. Listen to me, O king, as I explain to thee the merits of conciliation, O chief of Bharata's race, so that the most furious creatures may be appeased by it. In this connection is cited the ancient narrative of how a Brahmana, who had been seized in the forest by a Rakshasa, was freed (with the aid of conciliation). A certain Brahmana, endued with eloquence and intelligence, fell into distress, for he was seized in a lone forest by a Rakshasa who wished to feed on him. The Brahmana, possessed of understanding and learning, was not at all agitated. Without suffering himself to be stupefied at the sight of that terrible cannibal, he resolved to apply conciliation and see its effect on the Rakshasa. The Rakshasa, respectfully saluting the Brahmana so far as words went, asked him this question, 'Thou shalt escape, but tell me for what reason I am pale of hue and so lean!' Reflecting for a brief space of time, the Brahmana accepted the question of the Rakshasa and replied in the following well-spoken words. "'"The Brahmana said, 'Dwelling in a place that is distant from thy abode, moving in a sphere that is not thy own, and deprived of the companionship of thy friends and kinsmen, thou art enjoying vast affluence. It is for this that thou art so pale and lean. Verily, O Rakshasa, thy friends, though well-treated by thee, are still not well-disposed towards thee in consequence of their own vicious nature. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Thou art endued with merit and wisdom and a well-regulated soul. Yet it is thy lot to see others that are destitute of merit and wisdom honoured in preference to thyself. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Persons possessed of wealth and affluence much greater than thine but inferior to thee in point of accomplishments are, verily, disregarding thee. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Though distressed through want of the means of support, thou art led by the highness of thy soul to disregard such means as are open to thee for drawing thy sustenance. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. In consequence of thy righteousness thou hadst stinted thyself for doing good to another. This other, O righteous Rakshasa, thinks thee deceived and subjugated (by his superior intelligence). It is for this that thou art pale and lean. I think, thou art grieving for those persons who with souls overwhelmed by the lust and wrath are suffering misery in this world. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Though graced with the possession of wisdom, thou art ridiculed by others who are entirely destitute of it. Verily, persons of wicked conduct are condemning thee. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, some enemy of thine, with a friendly tongue, coming to thee behaved at first like a righteous person and then has left thee, beguiling thee like a knave. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Thou art well-conversant with the course of world's affairs. Thou art well-skilled in all mysteries. Thou art endued with capacity. Those who know thee to be such do not yet respect and praise thee. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Staying in the midst of bad men engaged together in some enterprise, thou hadst discoursed to them, dispelling their doubts. For all that they did not admit thy superior merits. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, though destitute of wealth and intelligence and Vedic lore, thou desirest yet, with the aid of thy energy alone, to accomplish something great. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. It seems that although thou art resolved to undergo severe austerities by retiring into the forest, yet thy kinsmen art not favourably inclined towards this project of thine. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Some neighbour of thine, possessed of great wealth and endued with youth and handsome features, verily, covets thy dear spouse. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. The words spoken by thee, even when excellent, in the midst of wealthy men, are not regarded by them as wise or well-timed. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Some dear kinsman of thine, destitute of intelligence though repeatedly instructed in the scriptures, has become angry. Thou hast not succeeded in pacifying him. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, somebody, having first set thee to the accomplishment of some object desirable to thee is now seeking to snatch the fruit thereof from thy grasp. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, though possessed of excellent accomplishments and worshipped by all on that account, thou art yet regarded by thy kinsmen as worshipped for their sake and not for thy own. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, through shame thou art unable to give out some purpose in thy heart, moved also by the inevitable delay that will occur in its accomplishment. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, thou desirest, with the aid of thy intelligence, to bring under thy influence, diverse persons with diverse kinds of understandings and inclinations. It is for this that thou art pale and lean.[537] Destitute of learning, without courage, and without much wealth, thou seekest such fame as is won by knowledge and prowess and gifts. Verily, it is for this that thou hast been pale and lean. Thou hast not been able to acquire something upon which thou hast set thy heart for a long time. Or, that which thou seekest to do is sought to be undone by somebody else. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Verily, without being able to see any fault on thy part, thou hast been cursed by somebody. It is for this that thou art pale and lean.[538] Destitute of both wealth and accomplishments thou seekest in vain to dispel the grief of thy friends and the sorrows of sorrowing men. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Beholding righteous persons the domestic mode of life, unrighteous persons living according to the forest mode, and emancipated persons attached to domesticity and fixed abodes, thou hast become pale and lean. Verily, thy acts connected with Righteousness, with Wealth, and with Pleasure, as also the well-timed words spoken by thee, do not bear fruit. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Though endued with wisdom, yet desirous of living, thou livest with wealth obtained by thee in gift from somebody of evil conduct. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Beholding unrighteousness increasing on every side and righteousness languishing, thou art filled with grief. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Urged by time thou seekest to please all thy friends even when they are disputing and ranged on sides opposite to one another. It is for this that thou art pale and lean. Beholding persons possessed of Vedic lore engaged in improper acts, and persons of learning unable to keep their senses under control, thou art filled with grief. It is for this that thou art pale and lean.' Thus praised, the Rakshasa worshipped that learned Brahmana in return, and making him his friend and bestowing sufficient wealth upon him in gift, let him off (without devouring him)."'" SECTION CXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, how a poor man, desirous of achieving his own good, should bear himself after having acquired the status of humanity and come into this region of acts that is so difficult to attain. Tell me also what is the best of all gifts, and what should be given under what circumstances. Tell me, O son of Ganga, who art truly deserving of honour and worship. It behoveth thee to discourse to us on these mysteries."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus questioned by that famous monarch, viz., the son of Pandu, Bhishma explained (in these words) unto that king these high mysteries appertaining to duty.' "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me with concentrated attention, O king, as I explain to thee, O Bharata, these mysteries appertaining to duties, after the same manner in which the holy Vyasa had explained them to me in days of yore. This subject is a mystery to the very deities, O monarch. Yama of stainless deeds, with the aid of vows well-observed and Yoga meditation, had acquired the knowledge of these mysteries as the high fruits of his penances.[539] What pleases what deity, what pleases the Pitris, the Rishis, the Pramathas (associates of Mahadeva), the goddess Sri, Chitragupta (the recording assistant of Yama), and the mighty Elephants at the cardinal points of the compass, what constitutes the religion of the Rishis--the religion, which has many mysteries and which is productive of high fruits,--the merits of what are called great gifts, and the merits that attach to all the sacrifices, he who knows these, O sinless one, and knowing acts according to his knowledge, becomes freed from stains if he has stains and acquires the merits indicated. Equal to ten butchers is one oilman. Equal to ten oilmen is one drinker of alcohol. Equal to ten drinkers of alcohol is one courtezan. Equal to ten courtezans is a single (territorial) chief.[540] A great king is said to be equal to half of these all. Hence, one should not accept, gifts from these. On the other hand, one should attend to the science, that is sacred and that has righteousness for its indications, of the aggregate of three (viz., Religion, Wealth, and Pleasure). Amongst these, Wealth and Pleasure are naturally attractive. Hence, one should, with concentrated attention, listen to the sacred expositions of Religion (in particular), for the fruits are very great of listening to the mysteries of Religion. One should certainly hear every topic connected with Religion as ordained by the deities themselves. In it is contained the ritual in respect of the Sraddha in which have been declared the mysteries connected with the Pitris. The mysteries connected with all the deities have also been explained there. It comprehends the duties and practices, productive of great merit, of the Rishis also, together with the mysteries attaching to them. It contains an exposition of the merits of great sacrifices and those that attach to all kinds of gifts. Those men who always read the scriptures bearing on these topics, those who bear them properly in their mind, and he who, having listened to them, follows them in practice, are all regarded to be as holy and sinless as the puissant Narayana himself. The merits that attach to the gift of kine, those that belong to the performance of ablutions in sacred waters, those that are won by the performance of sacrifices,--all these are acquired by that man who treats guests with reverence. They who listen to these scriptures, they who are endued with faith, and they who have a pure heart, it is well-known, conquer many regions of happiness. Those righteous men who are endued with faith, become cleansed of all stains and no sin can touch them. Such men always increase in righteousness and succeed in attaining to heaven. Once on a time, a celestial messenger, coming to the court of Indra of his own accord, but remaining invisible, addressed the chief of the deities in these words, 'At the command of those two deities who are the foremost of all physicians, and who are endued with every desirable attribute, I have come to this place where I behold human beings and Pitris and the deities assembled together. Why, indeed, is sexual congress interdicted for the man who performs a Sraddha and for him also who eats at a Sraddha (for the particular day)? Why are three rice-balls offered separately at a Sraddha? Unto whom should the first of those balls be offered? Unto whom should the second one be offered? And whose has it been said is the third or remaining one? I desire to know all this.' After the celestial messenger had said these words connected with righteousness and duty, the deities who were seated towards the east, the Pitris also, applauding that ranger of the sky, began as follows. "'"The Pitris said, 'Welcome art thou, and blessings upon thee! Do thou listen, O best of all rangers of the sky! The question thou hast asked is a high one and fraught with deep meaning. The Pitris of that man who indulges in sexual congress on the day he performs a Sraddha, or eats at a Sraddha, have to lie for the period of a whole month on his vital seed. As regards the classification of the rice-balls offered at a Sraddha, we shall explain what should be done with them one after another. The first rice-ball should be conceived as thrown into the waters. The second ball should be given to one of the wives to eat. The third ball should be cast into the blazing fire. Even this is the ordinance that has been declared in respect of the Sraddha. Even this is the ordinance that is followed in practice according to the rites of religion. The Pitris of that man who act according to this ordinance become gratified with him and remain always cheerful. The progeny of such a man increases and inexhaustible wealth always remains at his command.' "'"The celestial messenger said, 'Thou hast explained the division of the rice-balls and their consignment one after another to the three (viz., water, the spouse, and the blazing fire), together with the reasons thereof.[541] Whom does that rice-ball which is consigned to the waters reach? How does it, by being so consigned, gratify the deities and how does it rescue the Pitris? The second ball is eaten by the spouse. That has been laid down in ordinance. How do the Pitris of that man (whose spouse eats the ball) become the eaters thereof? The last ball goes into the blazing fire. How does that ball succeed in finding its way to thee, or who is he unto whom it goes? I desire to hear this,--that is, what are the ends attained by the rice-balls offered at Sraddhas when thus disposed of by being cast into the water, given to the spouse, and thrown into the blazing fire!' "'"The Pitris said, 'Great is this question which thou hast asked. It involves a mystery and is fraught with wonder. We have been exceedingly gratified with thee, O ranger of the sky! The very deities and the Munis applaud acts done in honour of the Pitris. Even they do not know what the certain conclusions are of the ordinances in respect of the acts done in honour of the Pitris. Excepting the high souled, immortal, and excellent Markandeya, that learned Brahmana of great fame, who is ever devoted to the Pitris, none amongst them is conversant with the mysteries of the ordinances in respect of the Pitris. Having heard from the holy Vyasa what the end is of the three rice-balls offered at the Sraddha, as explained by the Pitris themselves in reply to the question of the celestial messenger, I shall explain the same to thee. Do thou hear, O monarch, what the conclusions are with respect to the ordinances about the Sraddha. Listen with rapt attention, O Bharata, to me as I explain what the end is of the three rice-balls. That rice-ball which goes into water is regarded as gratifying the deity of the moon. That deity, thus gratified, O thou of great intelligence, gratifies in return the other deities and the Pitris also with them. It has been laid down that the second rice-ball should be eaten by the spouse (of the man that performs the Sraddha). The Pitris, who are ever desirous of progeny, confer children on the woman of the house. Listen now to me as I tell thee what becomes of the rice-ball that is cast into the blazing fire. With that ball the Pitris are gratified and as the result thereof they grant the fruition of all wishes unto the person offering it. I have thus told thee everything about the end of the three rice-balls offered at the Sraddha and consigned to the three (viz., water, the spouse, and the fire). That Brahmana who becomes the Ritwik at a Sraddha constitutes himself, by that act, the Pitri of the person performing the Sraddha. Hence, he should abstain that day from sexual intercourse with even his own spouse[542]. O best of all rangers of the sky, the man who eats at Sraddha should bear himself with purity for that day. By acting otherwise, one surely incurs the faults I have indicated. It cannot be otherwise. Hence, the Brahmana who is invited to a Sraddha for eating the offerings should eat them after purifying himself by a bath and bear himself piously for that day by abstaining from every kind of injury or evil. The progeny of such a person multiply and he also who feeds him reaps the same reward.'" "'Bhishma continued, "After the Pitris said so, a Rishi of austere penances, named Vidyutprabha, whose form shone with splendour like that of the sun, spoke. Having heard those mysteries of religion as propounded by the Pitris, he addressed Sakra, saying, 'Stupefied by folly, men slay numerous creatures born in the intermediate orders, such as worms and ants and snakes and sheep and deer and birds. Heavy is the measure of sin they incur by these acts. What, however, is the remedy?' When this question was asked, all the gods and Rishis endued with wealth of penances and the highly blessed Pitris, applauded that ascetic. "'"Sakra said, 'Thinking in one's mind of Kurukshetra and Gaya and Ganga and Prabhasa and the lakes of Pushkara, one should dip one's head in water. By so doing one becomes cleansed of all one's sins like Chandramas freed from Rahu. One should bathe in this way for three days in succession and then fast for every day. Besides this, one should touch (after bathing) the back of a cow and bow one's head to her tail.' Vidyutprabha, after this, once more addressing Vasava, said, 'I shall declare a rite that is more subtle. Listen to me, O thou of a hundred sacrifices. Rubbed with the astringent powder of the hanging roots of the banian and anointed with the oil of Priyangu, one should eat the Shashtika paddy mixed with milk. By so doing one becomes cleansed of all one's sins[543]. Listen now to another mystery unknown to many but which was discovered by the Rishis with the aid of meditation. I heard it from Vrihaspati while he recited it in the presence of Mahadeva. O chief of the deities, do thou hear it with Rudra in thy company, O lord of Sachi! If a person, ascending a mountain, stands there on one foot, with arms upraised and joined together, and abstaining from food looks at a blazing fire, he acquires the merits of severe penances and obtains the rewards that attach to fasts. Heated by the rays of the sun, he becomes cleansed of all his sins. One who acts in this way in both the summer and the winter seasons, becomes freed from every sin. Cleansed of every sin, one acquires a splendour of complexion for all time. Such a man blazes with energy like the Sun or shines in beauty like the Moon!' After this, the chief of the deities, viz., he of a hundred sacrifices, seated in the midst of the gods, then sweetly addressed Vrihaspati, saying these excellent words, 'O holy one, do thou duly discourse on what those mysteries of religion are that are fraught with happiness to human beings, and what the faults are which they commit, together with the mysteries that attach to them!' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'They who pass urine, facing the sun, they who do not show reverence for the wind, they who do not pour libations on the blazing fire, they who milk a cow whose calf is very young, moved by the desire of obtaining from her as much milk as possible, commit sins. I shall declare what those faults are, O lord of Sachi! Do thou listen to me. The Sun, Wind, the bearer of sacrificial oblations, O Vasava, and kine who are the mothers of all creatures, were created by the Self-born himself, for rescuing all the worlds, O Sakra! These are the deities of human beings. Listen all of ye to the conclusions of religion. Those wicked men and wicked women who pass urine facing the sun, live in great infamy for six and eighty years. That man, O Sakra, who cherishes no reverence for the wind, gets children that fall away prematurely from the womb of his spouse. Those men who do not pour libations on the blazing fire find that the fire, when they do ignite it for such rites as they wish to perform, refuses to eat their libations[544]. Those men who drink the milk of kine whose calves are very young, never get children for perpetuating their races.[545] Such men see their children die and their races shrink. Even these are the consequences of the acts referred to, as observed by regenerate persons venerable for age in their respective races. Hence, one should always avoid that which has been interdicted, and do only that which has been directed to be done, if one is desirous of achieving prosperity. This that I say unto thee is very true.' After the celestial preceptor had said this, the highly blessed deities, with the Maruts, and the highly blessed Rishis questioned the Pitris, saying, 'Ye Pitris, at what acts of human beings, who are generally endued with little understanding, do ye become gratified? What gifts, made in course of such rites as are gone through for improving the position of deceased persons in the other world, become inexhaustible in respect of their efficacy?[546] By performing what acts can men become freed from the debt they owe to the Pitris? We desire to hear this. Great is the curiosity we feel.' "'"The Pitris said, 'Ye highly blessed ones, the doubt existing in your minds has been properly propounded. Listen as we declare what those acts are of righteous men that gratify us. Bulls endued with blue complexion should be set free. Gifts should be made to us, on the day of the new moon, of sesame seeds and water. In the season of rains, lamps should be lighted. By these acts of men, they can free themselves from the debt they owe to the Pitris.[547] Such gifts never become vain. On the other hand, they become inexhaustible and productive of high fruits. The gratification we derive from them is regarded to be inexhaustible. Those men who, endued with faith, beget offspring, rescue their deceased ancestors from miserable Hell'. Hearing these words of the Pitris, Vriddha-Gargya, possessed of wealth of penances and high energy, became filled with wonder so that the hair on his body stood erect. Addressing them he said, 'Ye that are all possessed of wealth of penances, tell us what the merits are that attach to the setting free of bulls endued with blue complexion. What merits, again, attach to the gift of lamps in the season of rains and the gift of water with sesame seeds?' "'"The Pitris said, 'If a bull of blue complexion, upon being set free, raises a (small) quantity of water with its tail, the Pitris (of the person that has set that bull free) become gratified with that water for full sixty thousand years. The mud such a bull raises with its horns from the banks (of a river or lake), succeeds, without doubt, in sending the Pitris (of the person that sets the animal free) to the region of Soma. By giving lamps in the season of rains, one shines with effulgence like Soma himself. The man who gives lamps is never subject to the attribute of Darkness. Those men who make gifts, on the day of the new moon, of sesame seeds and water, mixed with honey and using a vessel of copper, O thou that art possessed of wealth of penances, are regarded as duly performing a Sraddha with all its mysteries. These men get children of sound health and cheerful minds. The merit acquired by the giver of the Pinda (to the Pitris) takes the form of the growth of his race. Verily, he who performs these acts with faith, becomes freed from the debt he owes to the Pitris. Even thus has been laid down the proper time for the performance of the Sraddha, the ordinance in respect of the rites to be observed, the proper person that should be fed at the Sraddha, and the merits that attach to it.' I have declared everything to thee in due order."'" SECTION CXXVI "'Bhishma said, "The chief of the deities, Indra, after the Pitri has ceased to speak, addressed the puissant Hari, saying, 'O Lord, what are those acts by which thou becomest gratified? How, indeed, do men succeed in gratifying thee?' "'"Vishnu said, 'That which I greatly hate is the detraction of Brahmanas; without doubt, if the Brahmanas are worshipped, I regard myself worshipped. All superior Brahmanas should always be saluted with reverence, after feeding them with hospitality. One should reverence one's own feet also (in the evening). I am gratified with men who act in this way, as also with those who worship and make offerings to the whirl that is noticeable on cowdung (when it first drops from the cow)[548]. They who behold a Brahmana that is a dwarf in stature, or a boar that has just risen from water and that bears on his head a quantity of mud taken up from the bank, have never to meet with any evil. They become freed from every sin. That man who worships every day the Aswattha (Ficus religiosa) and the substance called Gorochana and the cow, is regarded as worshipping the whole universe with the deities and Asuras and human beings. Verily, staying within these, I accept, in my own form, the worship that is offered to them. The worship that is offered to these is the worship offered to me. This has been so as long as the worlds have been created. Those men of little understanding that worship me in a different way worship me in vain, for the worship of that kind I never accept. Verily, the worship of other kinds is not at all gratifying to me.' "'"Indra said, 'Why dost thou applaud the circular marks on cowdung, the feet, the boar, the Brahmana that is a dwarf in stature, and mud raised up from the soil? It is thou who createst and it is thou who destroyest them. Thou art the eternal nature of all mortal or transitory things.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of Indra, Vishnu smiled a little and then said, 'It was with my circular disc that the Daityas were slain. It was with my two feet that the world was covered. Assuming the form of a boar I slew Hiranyaksha. Assuming the form of a dwarf I conquered (the Asura) king Vali. Those high-souled men who worship these gratify me. Verily, they who worship me in these forms never meet with discomfiture. If one beholding a Brahmana leading the Brahmacharya mode of life arrived at one's house, offers unto him the first portion of one's food that belongs as of right to a Brahmana, and eats what remains thereafter, one is regarded as eating Amrita. If one, after adoring the morning twilight, stands with face directed towards the sun, one reaps the merit that attaches to the performance of ablutions in all tirthas and becomes cleansed of all sins. Ye Rishis possessed of wealth of penances, I have told you in details what constitutes a great mystery. On what else shall I discourse unto you? Tell me your doubts.' "'"Baladeva said, 'Listen now to another great mystery that is fraught with happiness to men. Ignorant persons, unacquainted with it, meet with much distress at the hands of other creatures. That man who, rising at early dawn, touches a cow, ghee, and curds, as also mustard seeds and the larger variety thereof called Priyangu, becomes cleansed of all sins. As regards Rishis possessed of wealth of penances, they always avoid all creatures both before and behind, as also all that is impure while performing Sraddhas.'[549] "'"The deities said, 'If a person, taking a vessel of copper, filling it with water, and facing the east, resolves upon a fast or the observance of a particular vow, the deities become gratified with him and all his wishes become crowned with success. By observing fasts, or vows in any other way, men of little understandings gain nothing.[550] In uttering the resolution about the observance of fasts and in making offerings to the deities, the use of a vessel of copper is preferable. In presenting the offerings to the deities, in (giving and accepting) alms, in presenting the ingredients of the Arghya and in offering oblations of water mixed with sesame seeds to the Pitris, a vessel of copper should be used. By doing these acts in any other way, one acquires little merit. Even these mysteries have been laid down relating to how the deities are gratified.' "'"Dharma said, 'The offerings made in all rites in honour of the deities and in those in honour of the Pitris should never be given away to a Brahmana that has accepted service under the king, or that rings the bell or attends to subsidiary duties in acts of worship or at Sraddhas, or that keeps kine, or that is engaged in trade, or that follows some art as a profession, or that is an actor, or that quarrels with friends or that is destitute of Vedic studies, or that marries a Sudra woman[551]. The performer of the Sraddha who gives away such offerings unto such a Brahmana falls away from prosperity and multiplies not his race. He fails, again, to gratify his Pitris by doing such an act. From the house of that person whence a guest returns unsatisfied, the Pitris, the deities, and the sacred fires, all return disappointed in consequence of such treatment of the guest. That man who does not discharge the duties of hospitality towards the guest arrived at his abode, comes to be regarded as equally sinful with those that are slayers of women or of kine, that are ungrateful towards benefactors, that are slayers of Brahmanas, or that are violators of the beds of their preceptors.' "'"Agni said, 'Listen ye with concentrated attention. I shall recite the demerits of that man of wicked understanding who lifts up his feet for striking therewith a cow or a highly blessed Brahmana or a blazing fire. The infamy of such a man spreads throughout the world and touches the confines of heaven itself. His Pitris become filled with fear. The deities also become highly dissatisfied on his account. Endued with great energy, Fire refuses to accept the libations poured by him. For a hundred lives he has to rot in hell. He is never rescued at any time. One should, therefore, never touch a cow with one's feet, or a Brahmana of high energy, or a blazing fire, if one is endued with faith and desires one's own good. These are the demerits declared by me of one who lifts up one's feet towards these three.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'Listen to a high mystery that is unknown to the generality of men and that is connected with religion. He who offers the Pitris rice boiled in sugared milk, sitting with face directed to the south at noontide in the shade caused by an elephant's body, in the month of Bhadrapada, under the constellation Magha, acquires great merits. Listen to what those merits are. The man who makes such an offering to the Pitris under such circumstances, is regarded as performing a great Sraddha each year for thirteen years in succession.'[552] "'"The kine said, 'That man becomes cleansed of all his sins who adores a cow with these Mantras, viz., 'O Vahula, O Samanga, O thou that art fearless everywhere, O thou that art forgiving and full of auspiciousness, O friend, O source of all plenty, in the region of Brahman, in days of yore, thou wert present with thy calf in the sacrifice of Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt. Thou tookest thy station in the firmament and in the path of Agni. The deities with Narada among them adored thee on that occasion by calling thee Sarvamsaha. Such man attains to the region of Purandara. He acquires, besides, the merits that attach to kine, and the splendour of Chandramas also. Such a man becomes freed from every sin, every fear, every grief. At the end, he obtains residence in the happy region of the Thousand-eyed Indra!'" "'Bhishma continued, "After this, the highly blessed and celebrated seven Rishis, with Vasishtha at their head, rose and circumambulating the Lotus-born Brahman, stood around him with hands joined in reverence. Vasishtha, that foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma, became their spokesman and asked this question that is beneficial to every creature, but especially so to Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, 'By doing what acts may men of righteous conduct who are, however, destitute of the good of this world, succeed in acquiring merits attaching to sacrifices?' Hearing this question of theirs, the Grandsire Brahman began to say what follows. "'"Brahman said, 'Excellent is this question, ye highly blessed ones! It is at once auspicious and high and fraught with a mystery. This question that ye have put is subtil and is fraught with high benefit to mankind. Ye Rishis possessed of wealth of penances, I shall recite everything to you in detail. Do ye listen with attention to what I say as to how men acquire the merits attaching to sacrifices (even when they are unable to perform them through poverty.) In the lighted fortnight of the month of Pausha, when the constellation Rohini is in conjunction, if one, purifying oneself by a bath, lies under the cope of heaven, clad in a single piece of raiment, with faith and concentrated attention, and drinks the rays of the moon, one acquires the merits that attach to the performance of great sacrifices. Ye foremost of regenerate persons, this is a high mystery that I declare unto you in reply to your questions, ye that are possessed of insight into the subtil truths of all topics of enquiry.'"'" SECTION CXXVII "'"Vibhavasu (otherwise called Surya) said, 'There are two offerings. One of those consists of a palmful of water and the other called Akshata consists of rice-grains with ghee. One should, on the day of the full moon, stand facing that bright orb and make unto him the two offerings mentioned, viz., a palmful of water and the rice-grains with ghee called Akshata. The man who presents these offerings is said to adore his sacred fire. Verily, he is regarded as one that has poured libations on the three (principal) fires. That man of little understanding who cutteth down a large tree on the day of the new moon, becomes stained with the sin of Brahmanicide. By killing even a single leaf one incurs that sin. That foolish man who chews a tooth-brush on the day of the new moon is regarded as injuring the deity of the moon by such an act. The Pitris of such a person become annoyed with him.[553] The deities do not accept the libations poured by such a man on days of the full moon and the new moon. His Pitris become enraged with him, and his race and the family become extinct.' "'"Sree said, 'That sinful house, in which eating and drinking vessels and seats and beds lie scattered, and in which women are beaten, the deities and Pitris leave in disgust. Verily, without accepting the offerings made unto them by the owners of such houses, the deities and the Pitris fly away from such a sinful habitation.' "'"Angiras said, 'The offspring of that man increase who stands every night for a full year under a Karanjaka tree with a lamp for lighting it, and holds besides in his hand the roots of the Suvarchala plant.'[554] "'"Gargya said, 'One should always do the duties of hospitality to one's guests. One should give lamps in the hall or shed where sacrifices are performed. One should avoid sleep during the day, and abstain from all kinds of flesh or food. One should never injure kine and Brahmanas. One should always recite names of the Pushkara lakes and the other sacred waters. Such a course of duty, is the foremost. Even this constitutes a high religion with its mysteries. If observed in practice, it is sure to produce great consequences. If a person performs even a hundred sacrifices, he is doomed to see the exhaustion of the merits attaching to the libations poured therein. The duties, however, which I have mentioned are such that when observed by a person endued with faith, their merit becomes inexhaustible. Listen now to another high mystery concealed from the view of many. The deities do not accept the libations (poured upon the fire) on the occasion of Sraddhas and rites in their honour or on the occasion of those rites that are performable on ordinary lunar days or on the especially sacred days of the full moon and the new moon, if they behold a woman in her season of impurity or one that is the daughter of a mother afflicted with leprosy. The Pitris of the man who allows such a woman to come near the place where the Sraddha is being performed by him, do not become gratified with him for thirteen years. Robed in raiment of white, and becoming pure in body and mind, one should invite Brahmanas and cause them to utter their benedictions (when one performs the Sraddha). On such occasions one should also recite the Bharata. It is by observing all these that the offerings made at Sraddhas become inexhaustible.' "'"Dhaumya said, 'Broken utensils, broken bedsteads, cocks and dogs, as also such trees as have grown within the dwelling houses, are all inauspicious objects. In a broken utensil is Kali himself, while in a broken bedstead is loss of wealth. When a cock or a dog is in sight, the deities do not eat the offerings made to them. Under the roots of a tree scorpions and snakes undoubtedly find shelter. Hence, one should never plant a tree within one's abode.'[555] "'"Jamadagni said, 'That man whose heart is not pure is sure to go to Hell even if he adores the deities in a Horse-sacrifice or in a hundred Vajapeya sacrifices, or if he undergoes the severest austerities with head downmost. Purity of heart is regarded as equal to sacrifices and Truth. A very poor Brahmana, by giving only a Prastha of powdered barley with a pure heart unto a Brahmana, attained to the region of Brahman himself. This is a sufficient proof (of the importance of purity of heart).'"'" SECTION CXXVIII "'"Vayu said, 'I shall recite some duties the observance of which is fraught with happiness to mankind. Do ye listen also with concentrated attention to certain transgressions with the secret causes upon which they depend. That man who offers for the four months of the rainy season sesame and water (unto the Pitris), and food, according to the best of his power, unto a Brahmana well-conversant with the duties, who duly pours libations on the sacred fire, and makes offerings of rice boiled in sugared milk, who gives lamps in honour of the Pitris, with sesame and water,--verily he who does all this with faith and concentrated attention acquires all the merits that attach to a hundred sacrifices in which animals are offered to the deities. Listen to this other high mystery that is unknown to all. That man who thinks it all right when a Sudra ignites the fire upon which he is to pour libations or who does not see any fault when women who are incompetent to assist at Sraddhas and other rites are allowed to assist at them, really becomes stained with sin[556]. The three sacrificial fires become enraged with such a person. In his next life he has to take birth as a Sudra. His Pitris, together with the deities are never gratified with him. I shall now recite what the expiations are which one must go through for cleansing oneself from such sins. Listen to me with attention. By performing those expiatory acts, one becomes happy and free from fever. Fasting all the while, one should, for three days, with concentrated attention, pour libation, on the sacred fire, of the urine of the cow mixed with cowdung and milk and ghee. The deities accept the offerings of such a man on the expiration of a full year. His Pitris also, when the time comes for him for performing the Sraddha, become gratified with him. I have thus recited what is righteous and what is unrighteous, with all their unknown details, in respect of human beings desirous of attaining to heaven. Verily, men who abstain from these transgressions or who having committed them undergo the expiatory rites indicated, succeed in attaining to heaven when they leave this world.'"'" SECTION CXXIX "'"Lomasa said, 'The Pitris of those men who, without having wedded wives of their own, betake themselves to the wives of other people, become filled with disappointment when the time for the Sraddhas comes. He who betakes himself to the wives of other people, he who indulges in sexual union with a woman that is barren, and he who appropriates what belongs to a Brahmana, are equally sinful. Without doubt, the Pitris of such people cut them off without desiring to have any intercourse with them. The offerings they make fail to gratify the deities and the Pitris. Hence, one should always abstain from sexual congress with women that are the wedded wives of others, as also with women that are barren. The man who desires his own good should not appropriate what belongs to a Brahmana. Listen now to another mystery, unknown to all with regard to religion. One should, endued with faith, always do the bidding of one's preceptor and other seniors. On the twelfth lunar day, as also on the day of the full moon, every month, one should make gifts unto Brahmanas of ghee and the offerings that constitute Akshata. Listen to me as I say what the measure is of the merit that such a person acquires. By such an act one is said to increase Soma and the Ocean. Vasava, the chief of the celestials, confers upon him a fourth part of the merits that attach to a Horse-sacrifice. By making such gifts, a person becomes endued with great energy and prowess. The divine Soma, well-pleased with him, grants him the fruition of his wishes. Listen now to another duty, together with the foundation on which it rests, that is productive of great merit. In this age of Kali, that duty, if performed, brings about much happiness to men. That man who, rising at early dawn and purifying himself by a bath, attires himself in white robes and with the concentrated attention makes gifts unto Brahmanas of vessels full of sesame seeds, who makes offerings unto the Pitris of water with sesame seeds and honey, and who gives lamps as also the food called Krisara acquires substantial merits. Listen to me as I say what those merits are. The divine chastiser of Paka has ascribed these merits to the gift of vessels of copper and brass filled with sesame seeds. He who makes gifts of kine, he who makes gifts of land that are productive of eternal merit, he who performs the Agnishtoma sacrifice with copious presents in the form of Dakshina to the Brahmanas, are all regarded by the deities as acquiring merits equal to those which one acquires by making gifts of vessels filled with sesame seeds. Gifts of water with sesame seeds are regarded by the Pitris as productive of eternal gratification to them. The grandsires all become highly pleased with gifts of lamps and Krisara. I have thus recited the ancient ordinance, laid down by the Rishis, that is highly applauded by both the Pitris and the deities in their respective regions.'"'" SECTION CXXX "'Bhishma said, "The Rishis there assembled, together with the Pitris and the deities, then, with concentrated attention, questioned Arundhati (the spouse of Vasishtha) who was endued with great ascetic merit. Possessed of abundant wealth of penances, Arundhati was equal to her husband, the high-souled Vasishtha in energy for in both vows and conduct she was her husband's equal. Addressing her they said, 'We desire to hear from thee the mysteries of duty and religion. It behoveth thee, O amiable lady, to tell us what thou regardest as a high mystery.' "'"Arundhati said, 'The great progress I have been able to achieve in penances is due to your consideration for me in thus remembering my poor self. With your gracious permission I shall now discourse on duties that are eternal, on duties that are high mysteries. I shall discourse thereon with the causes on which they depend. Listen to me as I discourse to you elaborately. A knowledge of these should be imparted unto him only that is possessed of faith or that has a pure heart. These four, viz., he that is bereft of faith, he that is full of pride, he that is guilty of Brahmanicide, and he that violates the bed of his preceptor, should never be talked to. Religion and duty should never be communicated unto them. The merits acquired by a person who gives away a Kapila cow every day for a period of two and ten years, or by a person who adores the deities every month in a sacrifice, or by him who gives away hundreds of thousands of kine in the great Pushkara, do not come up to those that are his with whom a guest is gratified. Listen now to another duty whose observance is fraught with happiness to mankind. It should be observed with its secret ritual by a person endued with faith. Its merits are certainly high. Listen to what they are. If a person, rising at early dawn and taking with him a quantity of water and a few blades of Kusa grass, proceeds into a cow-pen and arriving there washes a cow's horns by sprinkling thereon that water with those blades of Kusa grass and then causes the water to drip down on his own head, he is regarded, in consequence of such a bath, as one that has performed his ablutions in all the sacred waters that the wise have heard to exist in the three worlds and that are honoured and resorted to by Siddhas and Charanas.' After Arundhati had said these words, all the deities and Pitris applauded her, saying, 'Excellent, Excellent,' Indeed, all the beings there were highly gratified and all of them worshipped Arundhati. "'"Brahman said, 'O highly blessed one, excellent is the duty that thou hast enunciated, together with its secret ritual. Praise be to thee! I grant thee this boon, viz., that thy penances will continually increase!' "'"Yama said, 'I have heard from thee an excellent and agreeable discourse. Listen now to what Chitragupta has said and what is agreeable to me. Those words relate to duty with its secret ritual, and are worthy of being heard by the great Rishis, as also by men endued with faith and desirous of achieving their own good. Nothing is lost of either piety or sin that is committed by creatures. On days of the full moon and the new moon, those acts are conveyed to the sun where they rest. When a mortal goes into the region of the dead, the deity of the sun bears witness to all his acts. He that is righteous acquires the fruits of his righteousness there. I shall now tell you of some auspicious duties that are approved by Chitragupta. Water for drink, and lamps for lighting darkness, should always be given, as also sandals and umbrellas and Kapila kine with due rites. In Pushkara especially should one make the gift of a Kapila cow unto a Brahmana conversant with the Vedas. One should also always maintain one's Agnihotra with great care. Here is another duty which was proclaimed by Chitragupta. It behoveth them that are the best of creatures to listen to what the merits are of that duty separately. In course of time, every creature is destined to undergo dissolution. They that are of little understanding meet with great distress in the regions of the dead, for they become afflicted by hunger and thirst. Indeed, they have to rot there, burning in pain. There is no escape for them from such calamity. They have to enter into a thick darkness. I shall now tell you of those duties by performing which one may succeed in crossing such calamity. The performance of those duties costs very little but is fraught with great merit. Indeed, such performance is productive of great happiness in the other world. The merits that attach to the gift of water for drink are excellent. In the next world in especial, those merits are very high. For them that make gifts of water for drink there is ordained in the other world a large river full of excellent water. Indeed, the water contained in that river is inexhaustible and cool and sweet as nectar. He who makes gifts of water in this world drinks from that stream in the world hereafter when he goes thither. Listen now to the abundant merits that attach to the giving of lamps. The man who gives lamps in this world has never to even behold the thick darkness (of Hell). Soma and Surya and the deity of fire always give him their light when he repairs to the other world. The deities ordain that on every side of such a person there should be blazing light. Verily, when the giver of lights repairs to the world of the dead, he himself blazes forth in pure effulgence like a second Surya. Hence, one should give lights while here and water for drink in especial. Listen now to what the merits are of the person who makes the gift of a Kapila cow to a Brahmana conversant with the Vedas, especially if the gift be made in Pushkara. Such a man is regarded as having made a gift of a hundred kine with a bull, a gift that is productive of eternal merit. The gift of a single Kapila cow is capable of cleansing whatever sins the giver may be guilty of even if those sins be as grave. Brahmanicide, for the gift of a single Kapila cow is regarded as equal in point of merit to that of a hundred kine. Hence, one should give away a Kapila cow at that Pushkara which is regarded as the senior (of the two Tirthas known by that name) on the day of the full moon in the month of Karttika. Men that succeed in making such a gift have never to encounter distress of any kind, or sorrow, or thorns giving pain. That man who gives away a pair of sandals unto a superior Brahmana that is deserving of the gift, attains to similar merits. By giving away an umbrella a person obtains comfortable shade in the next world. (He will not have to be exposed to the sun). A gift made to a deserving person is never lost. It is certain to produce agreeable consequences to the giver.' Hearing these opinions of Chitragupta, Surya's hairs stood on their ends. Endued with great splendour, he addressed all the deities and the Pitris, saying 'Ye have heard the mysteries relating to duty, as propounded by the high-souled Chitragupta. Those human beings who, endued with faith, make these gifts unto high-souled Brahmanas, become freed from fear of every kind. These five kinds of men, stained with vicious deeds, have no escape. Verily, of sinful behaviour and regarded as the worst of men, they should never be talked to. Indeed they should always be avoided. Those five are he who is the slayer of a Brahmana, he who is the slayer of a cow, he who is addicted to sexual congress with other people's wives, he who is bereft of faith (in the Vedas), and he who derives his sustenance by selling the virtue of his wife. These men of sinful conduct, when they repair to the region of the dead, rot in hell like worms that live upon pus and blood. These five are avoided by the Pitris, the deities, the Snataka Brahmanas, and other regenerate persons that are devoted to the practice of penances.'"'" SECTION CXXXI "'Bhishma said, "Then all the highly blessed deities and the Pitris, and the highly blessed Rishis also, addressing the Pramathas, said,[557] 'Ye are all highly blessed beings. Ye are invisible wanderers of the night. Why do you afflict those men that are vile and impure and that are unclean? What acts are regarded as impediments to your power? What, indeed, are those acts in consequence of which ye become incompetent to afflict men? What are those acts that are destructive of Rakshasas and that prevent you from asserting your power over the habitations of men? Ye wanderers of the night, we desire to hear all this from you.' "'"The Pramathas said, 'Men are rendered unclean by acts of sexual congress. They who do not purify themselves after such acts, they who insult their superiors, they who from stupefaction eat different kinds of meat, the man also who sleeps at the foot of a tree, he who keeps any animal matter under his pillow while lying down for sleep, and he who lies down or sleeps placing the head where his feet should be placed or his feet where the head should be placed,--these men are regarded by us as unclean. Verily, these men have many holes. Those also are numbered in the same class who throw their phlegm and other unclean secretions into the water. Without doubt these men deserve to be slain and eaten up by us. Verily, we afflict those human beings who are given to such conduct. Listen now to what those acts are which are regarded as antidotes and in consequence of which we fail to do any injury to men. Those men upon whose persons occur streaks of Gorochana, or who hold Vachas in their hands, or who make gifts of ghee with those ingredients that go by the name of Akshata, or who place ghee and Akshata on their heads, or those who abstain from meat are incapable of being afflicted by us. That man in whose house the sacred fire burns day and night without being ever put out, or who keeps the skin or teeth of a wolf in his abode or a hill-tortoise, or from whose habitation the sacrificial smoke is seen to curl upwards, or who keeps a cat or a goat that is either tawny or black in hue, is free from our power. Verily, those householders who keep these things in their houses always find them free from the inroads of even the fiercest spirits that live on carrion. Those beings also, that like us range through different worlds in pursuit of pleasure, are unable to do any injury to such houses. Hence, ye deities, should men keep such articles in their houses,--articles that are destructive of Rakshasas (and other beings of the kind). We have thus told you everything about that respecting which ye had great doubts.'"'" SECTION CXXXII "'Bhishma said, "After this, the Grandsire Brahman, sprung from the primeval lotus and resembling the lotus (in agreeableness and fragrance), addressed the deities with Vasava, the lord of Sachi, at their head,--'Yonder sits the mighty Naga who is a resident of the nether regions. Endued with great strength and energy, and with great prowess also, his name is Renuka. He is certainly a great being. Those mighty elephants endued with great energy and power, who hold the entire earth with her hills, waters, and lakes should be interviewed by this Renuka at your request. Let Renuka go to them and ask them about the mysteries of religion or duty.'--Hearing these words of the Grandsire, the deities, with well-pleased minds commissioned (the elephant) Renuka to where those upholders of the world are. "'"Renuka, proceeding to where those elephants are, addressed them, saying, 'Ye mighty creatures, I have been commanded by the deities and the Pitris to question you about the mysteries of religion and duty. I desire to hear you discourse on that subject in detail. Ye highly blessed ones, do ye discourse on the subject as your wisdom may dictate.' "'"The (eight) elephants standing in the eight quarters said, 'On the auspicious eighth day of the dark fortnight in the month of Karttika when the constellation Aslesha is in the ascendant, one should make gifts of treacle and rice. Casting aside wrath, and living on regulated diet, one should make these offerings at a Sraddha, uttering these mantras the while--"Let Valadeva and other Nagas possessed of great strength, let other mighty snakes of huge bodies that are indestructible and eternal, and let all the other great snakes that have taken their birth in their race, make Vali offerings to me for the enhancement of my strength and energy. Verily, let my strength be as great as that of the blessed Narayana when he raised the submerged Earth!"--Uttering these mantras, one should make Vali offerings upon an ant-hill. When the maker of day retires to his chambers in the west, upon the ant-hill selected should offerings be made of raw sugar and rice. The ant-hill should previously be scattered with Gajendra flowers. Offerings should also be made of blue cloths and fragrant unguents. If offerings are made in this way, those beings that live in the nether regions, bearing the weight of the upper regions upon their heads or shoulders, become well-pleased and gratified. As regards ourselves, we also do not feel the labour of upholding the Earth, in consequence of such offerings being made to us. Afflicted with the burden we bear, even this is what we think (beneficial for men), without the slightest regard for selfish concerns. Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, by observing this rule for a full year, fasting on each occasion, acquire great merits from such gifts. We think that the making of such Vali offerings on the ant-hill is really fraught with very superior merits. By making such offerings, one is regarded as doing the duties of hospitality for a hundred years to all the mighty elephants that exist in the three worlds.' Hearing these words of the mighty elephants, the deities and the Pitris and the highly blessed Rishis, all applauded Renuka."'" SECTION CXXXIII "'"Maheswara said, 'Searching your memories, excellent are the duties ye all have recited. Listen all of you now to me as I declare some mysteries relating to religion and duty. Only those persons whose understanding has been set on religion and who are possessed of faith, should be instructed in respect of those mysteries of duty and religion that are fraught with high merits. Hear what the merits are that become his who, with heart free from anxiety, gives food everyday, for a month, to kine and contents himself with one meal a day throughout such period. The kine are highly blessed. They are regarded as the most sacred of all sacred things. Verily, it is they that are upholding the three worlds with the deities, the Asuras, and human beings. Respectful services rendered to them are fraught with high merit and grave consequences. That man who every day gives food to kine advances every day in religious merit. Formerly, in the Krita age I had expressed my approval of these creatures. Afterwards Brahman, born of the primeval lotus, solicited me (to show kindness towards kine).[558] It is for this reason that a bull to this day stands as the device on my standard overhead. I always sport with kine. Hence should kine be worshipped by all. Kine are possessed of great power. They are givers of boons. If worshipped, they would grant boons. That person who gives food to kine even for a single day receives from those beneficent creatures for that act a fourth part of the merits he may win by all his good acts in life.'"'" SECTION CXXXIV "'"Skanda said, 'I shall now declare a duty that is approved of by me. Do ye listen to it with concentrated attention. That person who takes a little earth from the horns of a bull of blue complexion, smears his body therewith for three days, and then performs his ablutions, acquires great merits. Hear what those merits are. By such an act he would wash away every stain and evil, and attain to sovereign sway hereafter. As many times he takes his birth in this world, so many times does he become celebrated for his heroism. Listen now to another mystery unknown to all. Taking a vessel of copper and placing therein some cooked food after having mixed it with honey, one should offer it as Vali unto the rising moon on the evening of the day when that luminary is at full. Do ye learn, with faith, what the merits are of the person that acts in this way. The Sadhyas, the Rudras, the Adityas, the Viswedevas, the twin Aswins, the Maruts, and the Vasus, all accept that offering. By such an offering Soma increases as also the ocean, that vast receptacle of waters. This duty that is declared by me and that is unknown to all, if performed, is certainly fraught with great happiness.' "'"Vishnu said, 'That person who, endued with faith and freed from malice, listens every day with concentrated attention to the mysteries in respect of religion and duty that are preserved by the high-souled deities and those mysteries also of the same kind that are preserved by the Rishis, has never to succumb to any evil. Such a person becomes also freed from every fear. That man who, with his senses under thorough control, reads these sections which treat of these auspicious and meritorious duties, together with their mysteries,--duties that have been declared (by the previous speakers), acquires all the merits that attach to their actual performance. Sin can never overmaster him. Verily, such a man can never be stained with faults of any kind. Indeed, one wins abundant merits by reading these mysteries (as declared), or by reciting them to others, or by hearing them recited. The deities and the Pitris eat forever the Havya and the Kavya offered by such a creature. Both these, in consequence of the virtues of the offerer become inexhaustible. Even such is the merit that attaches to the person who, with concentrated attention, recites these mysteries to foremost of Brahmanas on days of the full moon or the new moon. Such a person, in consequence of such an act, becomes steady in the observance of all duties. Beauty of form and prosperity also become his. He succeeds, besides this, in becoming the favourite, for all time, of the Rishis and the deities and the Pitris. If a person becomes guilty of all sins save those which are classed as grave or heinous, he becomes cleansed of them all by only listening to the recitation of these mysteries about religion and duty.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Even these, O king of men, are the mysteries in respect of religion and duty dwelling in the breasts of the deities. Held in high respect by all the gods and promulgated by Vyasa, they have now been declared by me for thy benefit. One who is conversant with religion and duty thinks that this excellent knowledge is superior (in value) to even the whole earth full of riches and wealth. This knowledge should not be imparted to one that is bereft of faith, or to one that is an atheist, or to one that has fallen away from the duties of his order, or to one that is destitute of compassion, or to one that is devoted to the science of empty disputations, or to one that is hostile to one's preceptors, or to one that thinks all creatures to be different from oneself."'" SECTION CXXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "Who are those persons, O Bharata, from whom a Brahmana in this world may accept his food? From whom may a Kshatriya, a Vaisya, and a Sudra take their food respectively?" "'Bhishma said, "A Brahmana may take his food from another Brahmana or from a Kshatriya or a Vaisya, but he must never accept food from a Sudra. A Kshatriya may take his food from a Brahmana, a Kshatriya or a Vaisya. He must, however, eschew food given by Sudras who are addicted to evil ways and who partake of all manner of food without any scruple. Brahmanas and Kshatriyas can partake of food given by such Vaisyas as tend the sacred fire every day, as are faultless in character, and as perform the vow of Chaturmasya. But the man who takes food from a Sudra, swallows the very abomination of the earth, and drinks the excretions of the human body, and partakes of the filth of all the world. He partakes of the very filth of the earth who takes his food thus from a Sudra. Verily, those Brahmanas that take their food from Sudras, take the dirt of the earth. If one engages in the service of a Sudra, one is doomed to perdition though one may duly perform all the rites of one's order. A Brahmana, a Kshatriya, or a Vaisya, so engaging, is doomed, although devoted to the due performance of religious rites. It is said that a Brahmana's duty consists in studying the Vedas and seeking the welfare of the human race; that a Kshatriya's duty consists in protecting men, and that a Vaisya's in promoting their material prosperity. A Vaisya lives by distributing the fruits of his own acts and agriculture. The breeding of kine and trade are the legitimate work in which a Vaisya may engage without fear of censure. The man who abandons his own proper occupation and betakes himself to that of a Sudra, should be considered as a Sudra and on no account should any food be accepted from him. Professors of the healing art, mercenary soldiers, the priest who acts as warder of the house, and persons who devote a whole year to study without any profit, are all to be considered as Sudras. And those who impudently partake of food offered at ceremonials in a Sudra's house are afflicted with a terrible calamity. In consequence of partaking such forbidden food they lose their family, strength, and energy, and attain to the status of animals, descending to the position of dogs, fallen in virtue and devoid of all religious observances. He who takes food from a physician takes that which is no better than excrement; the food of a harlot is like urine; that of a skilled mechanic is like blood. If a Brahmana approved by the good, takes the food of one who lives by his learning, he is regarded as taking the food of a Sudra. All good men should forego such food. The food of a person who is censured by all is said to be like a draught from a pool of blood. The acceptance of food from a wicked person is considered as reprehensible as the slaying of a Brahmana. One should not accept food if one is slighted and not received with due honours by the giver. A Brahmana, who does so, is soon overtaken by disease, and his race soon becomes extinct. By accepting food from the warder of a city, one descends to the status of the lowest outcaste. If a Brahmana accepts food from one who is guilty of killing either a cow or a Brahmana or from one who has committed adultery with his preceptor's wife or from a drunkard, he helps to promote the race of Rakshasas. By accepting food from a eunuch, or from an ungrateful person, or from one who has misappropriated wealth entrusted to his charge, one is born in the country of the Savaras situated beyond the precincts of the middle country. I have thus duly recited to thee the persons from whom food may be accepted and from whom it may not. Now tell me, O son of Kunti, what else thou wishest to hear from me today."'" SECTION CXXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast told me in full of those from whom food may be accepted and of those from whom it should not be taken. But I have grave doubts on one point. Do thou, O sire, enlighten me, do thou tell me what expiation a Brahmana should make (for the sin he incurs) upon accepting the different kinds of food, those especially offered in honour of the gods and the oblations made to the manes." "'Bhishma said, "I shall tell thee, O prince, how high-souled Brahmanas may be absolved from all sin incurred by accepting food from others. In accepting clarified butter, the expiation is made by pouring oblations on the fire, reciting the Savitri hymn. In accepting sesamum, O Yudhishthira, the same expiation has to be made. In accepting meat, or honey, or salt, a Brahmana becomes purified by standing till the rising of the sun. If a Brahmana accepts gold from any one, he becomes cleansed of all sins by silently reciting the great Vedic prayer (Gayatri) and by holding a piece of iron in his hand in the presence of the public. In accepting money or clothes or women or gold, the purification is the same as before. In accepting food, or rice boiled in milk and sugar, or sugarcane juice, or sugar-cane, or oil, or any sacred thing, one becomes purified by bathing thrice in the course of the day, viz., at morn, noon and eve. If one accepts paddy, flowers, fruits, water, half-ripe barley, milk, or curdled milk, or anything made of meal or flour, the expiation is made by reciting the Gayatri prayer a hundred times. In accepting shoes or clothes at obsequial ceremonies, the sin is destroyed by reciting devoutly the same hymn a hundred times. The acceptance of the gift of land at the time of an eclipse or during the period of impurity, is expiated by observing a fast during three successive nights. The Brahmana who partakes of oblations offered to deceased ancestors, in course of the dark fortnight, is purified by fasting for a whole day and night. Without performing his ablutions a Brahmana should not say his evening prayers, nor betake himself to religious meditation, nor take his food a second time. By so doing he is purified. For this reason, the Sraddha of deceased ancestors has been ordained to be performed in the afternoon and then the Brahmana who has been invited beforehand should be feasted. The Brahmana who partakes of food at the house of a dead person on the third day after the death, is purified by bathing three times daily for twelve days. After the expiration of twelve days, and going through the purification ceremonies duly, the sin is destroyed by giving clarified butter to Brahmanas. If a man takes any food in the house of a dead person, within ten days after the death, he should go through all the expiations before mentioned, and should recite the Savitri hymn and do the sin-destroying Ishti and Kushmanda penances. The Brahmana who takes his food in the house of a dead person for three nights, becomes purified by performing his ablutions thrice daily for seven days, and thus attains all the objects of his desire, and is never troubled by misfortunes. The Brahmana who takes his food in the company of Sudras is purged from all impurity by duly observing the ceremonies of purification. The Brahmana who takes his food in the company of Vaisyas is absolved from sin by living on alms for three successive nights. If a Brahmana takes his food with Kshatriyas, he should make expiation by bathing with his clothes on. By eating with a Sudra from off the same plate the Sudra loses his family respectability; the Vaisya by eating from off the same plate with a Vaisya, loses his cattle and friends. The Kshatriya loses his prosperity, and the Brahmana his splendour and energy. In such cases, expiations should be made, and propitiatory rites should be observed, and oblations offered to the gods. The Savitri hymn should be recited and the Revati rites and Kushmanda penances should be observed with the view of destroying the sin. If any of the above four classes partake of food partly eaten by a person of any other class, the expiation is undoubtedly made by smearing the body with auspicious substances like Rochana, Durva grass, and turmeric."'" SECTION CXXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "O Bharata, of the two things charity and devotion, do thou condescend to tell me, O sire, which is the better in this world? Do thou, by this, remove a great doubt from my mind." "'Bhishma said, "Do thou, listen to me as I recite the names of the princes who having been devoted to virtue, and having cleansed their hearts by penances and practised gifts and other acts of piety, undoubtedly attained to the different celestial regions. The Rishi Atreya revered by all, attained, O monarch, to the excellent celestial regions, by imparting the knowledge of the unconditional Supreme Being to his pupils. King Sivi, the son of Usinara, by offering the life of his dear son, for the benefit of a Brahmana, was translated from this world to heaven. And Pratardana, the king of Kasi, by giving his son to a Brahmana, secured to himself unique and undying fame in this as well as in the other world. Rantideva, the son of Sankriti, attained to the highest heaven by duly making gifts to the high-souled Vasishtha. Devavriddha too went to heaven by giving a hundred-ribbed and excellent golden umbrella to a Brahmana for a sacrifice. The worshipful Amvarisha too has attained to the region of the gods, by making a gift of all his kingdom to a Brahmana of great power. King Janamejaya of the solar race, went to the highest heaven by making a gift of ear-rings, fine vehicles, and cows to Brahmanas. The Royal sage Vrishadarbhi went to heaven by making gifts of various jewels and beautiful houses to Brahmanas. King Nimi of Vidarva, attained to heaven with his sons, friends and cattle, by giving his daughter and kingdom to the high-souled Agastya. The far-famed Rama, the son of Jamadagni, attained to the eternal regions, far beyond his expectation, by giving lands to Brahmanas. Vasishtha, the prince of Brahmanas, preserved all the creatures at a time of great drought when the god Parjjanya did not bestow his grateful showers upon the earth, and for this act he has secured eternal bliss for himself. Rama, the son of Dasaratha, whose fame is very high in this world, attained to the eternal regions by making gifts of wealth at sacrifices. The far-famed royal sage Kakshasena, went to heaven by duly making over to the high-souled Vasishtha the wealth which he had deposited with him. Marutta, the son of Parikshita and the grandson of Karandhama, by giving his daughter in marriage to Angiras, immediately went to heaven. The highly devout king of Panchalal Brahmadatta, attained the blessed way by giving away a precious conch-shell. King Mitrasaha, by giving his favourite wife Madayanti to the high-souled Vasishtha, ascended to heaven. Sudyumna, the son of Manu, by causing the proper punishment to be inflicted upon the high-souled Likhita, attained to the most blessed regions. The celebrated royal sage Saharachitta went to the blessed regions, by sacrificing his dear life for the sake of a Brahmana. The king Satadyumna went to heaven by giving to Maudgaya a golden mansion replete with all the objects of desire. In ancient times, king Sumanyu by giving to Sandilya heaps of food looking like a hill, proceeded to heaven. The Salwa prince Dyutimat of great splendour attained to the highest regions by giving his kingdom to Richika. The Royal sage Madiraswa by giving his slender-waisted daughter to Hiranyahasta went to the region of the gods. The lordly Lomapada attained all the vast objects of his desire by giving his daughter Santa in marriage to Rishyasringa. The royal sage Bhagiratha, by giving his famous daughter Hansi in marriage to Kautsa, went to the eternal regions. King Bhagiratha by giving hundreds and thousands of kine with their young ones to Kohala attained to the most blessed regions. These and many other men, O Yudhishthira, have attained to heaven, by the merit of their charities and penances and they have also returned from thence again and again. Their fame will endure as long as the world will last. I have related to thee, O Yudhishthira, this story of those good householders who have attained to eternal regions by dint of their charities and penances. By their charities and by performing sacrifices and by procreating offspring, these people have attained to the heavenly regions. O foremost scion of Kuru's race, by always performing acts of charity, these men applied their virtuous intellects to the performance of sacrifices and charities. O mighty prince, as night has approached I shall explain to thee in the morning whatever doubts may arise in thy mind."'" SECTION CXXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "I have heard from thee, O sire, the names of those kings that have ascended to heaven. O thou whose power is great in the observance of the vow of truth by following the religion of gift, how many kinds of gift are there that should be given? What are the fruits of the several kinds of gifts respectively? For what reasons, what kinds of gifts, made to what persons are productive of merits? Indeed, unto what persons should what gifts be made? For what reasons are how many kinds of gifts to be made? I desire to hear all this in detail." "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O son of Kunti, in detail to me, O sinless one as I discourse on the subject of gifts. Indeed, I shall tell you, O Bharata, how gifts should be made unto all the orders of men. From desire of merit, from desire of profit, from fear, from free choice, and from pity, gifts are made, O Bharata! Gifts, therefore, should be known to be of five kinds. Listen now to the reasons for which gifts are thus distributed in five classes. With mind freed from malice one should make gifts unto Brahmanas, for by making gifts unto the one acquires fame here and great felicity hereafter. (Such gifts are regarded as made from desire of merit.) 'He is in the habit of making gifts; or he has already made gifts to me.' Hearing such words from solicitors one gives away all kinds of wealth unto a particular solicitor. (Such gifts are regarded as made from desire of profit.) 'I am not his, nor is he mine. If disregarded, he may injure me.' From such motives of fear even a man of learning and wisdom may make gifts unto an ignorant wretch. (Such gifts are regarded as made from fear.) 'This one is dear to me, I am also dear to him.' Influenced by considerations like these, a person of intelligence, freely and with alacrity, make gifts unto a friend. (Such gifts are regarded as made from free choice.) 'The person that solicits me is poor. He is, again, gratified with a little. 'From considerations such as these, one should always make gifts unto the poor, moved by pity. (Gifts made from such considerations are regarded as made from pity.) These are the five kinds of gift. They enhance the giver's merits and fame. The Lord of all creatures (Brahman himself) has said that one should always make gifts according to one's power."'" SECTION CXXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, thou art possessed of great wisdom. Indeed, thou art fully conversant with every branch of learning. In our great race thou art the only individual that swellest with all the sciences. I desire to hear from thee discourses that are interwoven with Religion and Profit, that lead to felicity hereafter, and that are fraught with wonder unto all creatures. The time that has come is fraught with great distress. The like of it does not generally come to kinsmen and friends. Indeed, save thee, O foremost of men, we have now none else that can take the place of an instructor. If, O sinless one, I with my brothers deserve the favour, it behoveth thee to answer the question I desire to ask thee. This one is Narayana who is endued with every prosperity and is honoured by all the kings. Even he waits upon thee, showing thee every indulgence and honouring thee greatly. It behoveth thee to discourse unto me, through affection, for my benefit as also for that of my brothers, in the presence of Vasudeva himself and of all these kings."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of king Yudhishthira, Bhishma, the son of the river called after Bhagiratha, filled with joy in consequence of his affection for the monarch and his brothers, said what follows.'[559] "'Bhishma said, "I shall certainly recite to thee discourses that are delightful, on the subject, O king, of the puissance of this Vishnu as displayed in days of yore and as I have heard (from my preceptors). Listen to me also as I describe the puissance of that great god who has a bull for his device. Listen to me as I narrate also the doubt that filled the mind of the spouse of Rudra and that of Rudra himself. Once on a time the righteous souled Krishna observed a vow extending for ten and two years. For beholding him who had gone through the rite of initiation for the observance of his great vow, there came to that place Narada and Parvata, and the Island-born Krishna, and Dhaumya, that foremost of silent reciters, and Devala, and Kasyapa, and Hastikasyapa. Other Rishis also, endued with Diksha and self-restraint, followed by their disciples and accompanied by many Siddhas and many ascetics of great merit, came there. The son of Devaki offered them such honours of hospitality as are deserving of the highest praise and as are offered unto the gods alone. Those great Rishis sat themselves down upon seats some of which were green and some endued with the colour of gold and some that were fraught with the plumes of the peacock and some that were perfectly new and fresh. Thus seated, they began to converse sweetly with one another on subjects connected with Religion and duty as also with many royal sages and deities. At that time the energy, in the form of fire, Narayana, rising from the fuel that consisted of the rigid observance of his vow, issued out of the mouth of Krishna of wonderful feats. That fire began to consume those mountains with their trees and creepers and little plants, as also with their birds and deer and beasts of prey and reptiles. Soon the summit of that mountain presented a distressing and pitiful appearance, Inhabited by animals of diverse kinds which began to utter cries of woe and pain, the summit soon became bereft of every living creature. That fire of mighty flames, having consumed everything without leaving a remnant at last came back to Vishnu and touched his feet like a docile disciple. That crusher of foes, viz., Krishna, beholding that mountain burnt, cast a benignant look upon it and thereby brought it back to its former condition. That mountain thereupon once more became adorned with flowering trees and creepers, and once more echoed with the notes and cries of birds and deer and animals of prey and reptiles. Seeing that wonderful and inconceivable sight, all the ascetics became amazed. Their hairs stood on end and their vision was blurred with tears. That foremost of speakers, Narayana, beholding those Rishis thus filled with wonder, addressed them in these sweet and refreshing words, 'Why, indeed, has wonder filled the hearts of this assemblage of Rishis, these ascetics that are always free from attachment of every kind, that are divested of the idea of meum, and that are fully conversant with every sacred science? It behoveth these Rishis possessed of wealth of penances and freed from every stain to explain to me truly this doubt that has arisen in my mind.' "'"The Rishis said, 'It is thou that createst all the worlds, and it is thou that destroyest them again. It is thou that art Winter, it is thou that art Summer, and it is thou that art the season of rains. Of all the creatures, mobile and immobile, that are found on the earth, thou art the father, thou art the mother, thou art the master, and thou art the origin! Even this, O slayer of Madhu, is a matter of wonder and doubt with us. O source of all auspiciousness, it behoveth Thee to resolve to us that doubt, viz., the issue of fire from Thy mouth. Our fears being dispelled we shall then, O Hari, recite to thee what we have heard and seen.' "'"Vasudeva said, 'The fire that issued from my mouth and that resembles the all-consuming Yuga-fire in splendour, and by which this mountain has been crushed and scorched, is nothing else than the energy of Vishnu. Ye Rishis, ye are persons that have subjugated wrath, that have brought your senses under complete control, that are endued with wealth of penances, and that are very gods in puissance. Yet ye have suffered yourselves to be agitated and distressed! I am now engaged wholly with the observances relating to rigid vow. Verily, in consequence of my observing the vows of an ascetic, a fire issued from my mouth. It behoves you not to suffer yourselves to be agitated. It is for observing a rigid vow that I came to this delightful and auspicious mountain. The object that has brought me here is to acquire by the aid of penances a son that would be my equal in energy. In consequence of my penances, the Soul existing in my body became transformed into fire and issued out of my mouth. That fire had repaired to behold the boon-giving Grandsire of all the universe. The Grandsire, ye foremost of ascetics, told my soul that half the energy of the great god having the bull for his device would take birth as my son. That fire returning from its mission, has come back to me and approached my feet like a disciple desirous of serving me dutifully. Indeed, casting off its fury it has come back to me to its own proper nature. I have thus told you, in brief, a mystery appertaining to Him who has the lotus for his origin and who is endued with great intelligence. Ye Rishis possessed of wealth of penances, ye should not give way to fear! Ye are endued with far-reaching vision. Ye can proceed to every place without any impediment. Blazing with vows observed by ascetics, ye are adorned with knowledge and science. I now ask you to tell me something that is highly wonderful which you have heard of or seen on earth or in heaven. I feel an eager desire to taste the honey of that speech which will drop from your lips, the honey that will, I am sure, be as sweet as a jet of nectar itself. If I behold anything on earth or in heaven, which is highly delightful and of wonderful aspect but which is unknown to all of you, ye Rishis that look like so many gods, I say that that is in consequence of my own Supreme Nature which is incapable of being obstructed by anything. Anything wonderful whose knowledge dwelleth in me or is acquired by my own inspiration ceases to appear wonderful to me. Anything, however, that is recited by pious persons and that is heard from those that are good, deserves to be accepted with respect and faith. Such discourses exist on earth for a long time and are as durable as characters engraved on rocks. I desire, therefore, to hear, at this meeting something dropping from the lips of persons that are good and that cannot fail to be productive of good to men.' Hearing these words of Krishna all those ascetics became filled with surprise. They began to gaze at Janardana with those eyes of theirs that were as beautiful and large as the petals of the lotus. Some of them began to glorify him and some began to worship him with reverence. Indeed, all of them then hymned the praises of the slayer of Madhu with words whose meanings were adorned with the eternal Riks. All those ascetics then appointed Narada, that foremost of all persons conversant with speech, to gratify the request of Vasudeva. "'"The ascetics said, 'It behoveth thee, O Narada, to describe, in full, from the beginning, unto Hrishikesa, that wonderful and inconceivable incident which occurred, O puissant one, on the mountains of Himavat and which, O ascetic, was witnessed by those of us that had proceeded thither in course of our pilgrimage to the sacred waters. Verily, for the benefit of all the Rishis here assembled, it behoveth thee to recite that incident.' Thus addressed by those ascetics, the celestial Rishi, viz., the divine Narada, then recited the following story whose incidents had occurred some time before."'" SECTION CXL "'Bhishma said, "Then Narada, that holy Rishi, that friend of Narayana, recited the following narrative of the discourse between Sankara and his spouse Uma. "'"Narada said, 'Once on a time the righteous-souled lord of all the deities, viz., Mahadeva with the bull for his device, practised severe penances on the sacred mountains of Himavat that are the resort of Siddhas and Charanas. Those delightful mountains are overgrown with diverse kinds of herbs and adorned with various species of flowers. At that time they were peopled by the different tribes of Apsaras and crowds of ghostly beings. There the great god sat, filled with joy, and surrounded by hundreds of ghostly beings who presented diverse aspects to the eye of the beholder. Some of them were ugly and awkward, some were of very handsome features, and some presented the most wonderful appearances. Some had faces like the lion's, some like the tiger's and some like the elephant's. In fact, the faces of those ghostly creatures presented every variety of animal faces. Some had faces resembling that of the jackal, some whose faces resembled the pard's, some like the ape's, some like the bull's. Some of them had faces like the owl's; some like the hawk's; some had faces like those of deer of diverse varieties. The great god was also surrounded by Kinnaras and Yakshas and Gandharvas and Rakshasas and diverse other created beings. The retreat to which Mahadeva had betaken himself also abounded with celestial flowers and blazed with celestial rays of light. It was perfumed with celestial sandal, and celestial incense was burnt on every side. And it echoed with the sounds of celestial instruments. Indeed, it resounded with the beat of Mridangas and Panavas, the blare of conchs, and the sound of drums. It teemed with ghostly beings of diverse tribes that danced in joy and with peacocks also that danced with plumes outspread. Forming as it did the resort of the celestial Rishis, the Apsaras danced there in joy. The place was exceedingly agreeable to the sight. It was exceedingly beautiful, resembling Heaven itself. Its entire aspect was wonderful and, indeed, it is indescribable in respect of its beauty and sweetness. Verily, with the penances of that great deity who sleeps on mountain breasts, that prince of mountains shone with great beauty. It resounded with the chant of the Vedas uttered by learned Brahmanas devoted to Vedic recitation. Echoing with the hum of bees, O Madhava, the mountain became incomparable in beauty. The ascetics, beholding the great deity who is endued with a fierce form and who looks like a great festival, became filled, O Janardana, with great joy. All the highly blessed ascetics, the Siddhas who have drawn in their vital seed, the Maruts, the Vasus, the Sadhyas, the Viswedevas, Vasava himself, the Yakshas, the Nagas, the Pisachas, the Regents of the world, the several sacred Fires, the Winds, and all the great creatures dwelt on that mountain with minds concentrated in Yoga. All the Seasons were present there and scattered those regions with all kinds of wonderful flowers. Diverse kinds of blazing herbs illuminated the woods and forests on that mountain. Various species of birds, filled with joy, hopped about and sang merrily on the delightful breast of that mountain. Those birds were exceedingly lovable in consequence of the notes they uttered. The high-souled Mahadeva sat, displayed in beauty, on one of the peaks that was adorned with excellent minerals, as if it served the purposes of a fine bedstead. Round his loins was a tiger-skin, and a lion-skin formed his upper garments. His sacred thread consisted of a snake. His arms were decked with a pair of red Angadas. His beard was green. He had matted locks on his head. Of terrible features, he it is that inspires with fear the hearts of all the enemies of the gods. It is he, again, that assures all creatures by dispelling their fears. He is adored by his worshippers as the deity having the bovine bull for his device. The great Rishis, beholding Mahadeva, bowed to him by touching the ground with their heads. Endued with forgiving souls, they all became (in consequence of the sight they had obtained of the great deity) freed from every sin and thoroughly cleansed. The retreat of that lord of all creatures with many terrible forms, shone with a peculiar beauty. Abounding with many large snakes, it became unapproachable and unbearable (by ordinary beings). Within the twinkling of the eye, O slayer of Madhu, everything there became exceedingly wonderful. Indeed, the abode of that great deity having the bovine bull for his device began to blaze with a terrible beauty. Unto Mahadeva seated there, came his spouse, the daughter of Himavat, surrounded by the wives of the ghostly beings who are the companions of the great deity. Her attire was like that of her lord and the vows she observed were like those of his. She held a jar on her loins that was filled with the waters of every Tirtha, and was accompanied by the presiding deities (of her own sex) of all the mountain streams. Those auspicious ladies walked in her train. The goddess approached raining flowers on every side and diverse kinds of sweet perfumes. She who loved to reside on the breast of Himavat advanced in this guise towards her great lord. The beautiful Uma, with smiling lips and desirous of playing a jest, covered from behind, with her two beautiful hands, the eyes of Mahadeva. As soon as Mahadeva's eyes were thus covered, all the regions became dark and life seemed to be extinct everywhere in the universe. The Homa rites ceased. The universe became suddenly deprived of the sacred Vashat also. All living creatures became cheerless and filled with fear. Indeed, when the eyes of the lord of all creatures were thus closed, the universe seemed to become sunless. Soon, however, that overspreading darkness disappeared. A mighty and blazing flame of fire emanated from Mahadeva's forehead. A third eye, resembling another sun, appeared (on it). That eye began to blaze forth like the Yuga-fire and began to consume that mountain. The large-eyed daughter of Himavat, beholding what occurred, bowed her head unto Mahadeva endued with that third eye which resembled a blazing fire. She stood there with gaze fixed on her lord. When the mountain forests burned on every side, with their Was and other trees of straight trunks, and their delightful sandals and diverse excellent medicinal herbs, herds of deer and other animals, filled with fright, came with great speed to the place where Hara sat and sought his protection. With those creatures almost filling it, the retreat of the great deity blazed forth with a kind of peculiar beauty. Meanwhile, that fire, swelling wildly, soared up to the very heavens and endued with the splendour and unsteadiness of lightning and looking like a dozen suns in might and effulgence, covered every side like the all-destroying Yuga-fire. In a moment, the Himavat mountains were consumed, with their minerals and summits and blazing herbs. Beholding Himavat crushed and consumed, the daughter of that prince of mountains sought the protection of the great deity and stood before him her hands joined in reverence. Then Sarva, seeing Uma overcome by an accession of womanly mildness and finding that she was unwilling to behold her father Himavat reduced to that pitiable plight, cast benignant looks upon the mountain. In a moment the whole of Himavat was restored to his former condition and became as beautiful to look at as ever. Indeed, the mountain put forth a cheerful aspect. All its trees became adorned with flowers. Beholding Himavat to his natural condition, the goddess Uma, divested of every fault, addressed her lord, that master of all creatures, the divine Maheswara, in these words. "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, O lord of all creatures, O deity that art armed with the trident, O thou of high vows, a great doubt has filled my mind. It behoveth thee to resolve that doubt for me. For what reason has this third eye appeared in thy forehead? Why also was the mountain consumed with the woods and all that belonged to it? Why also, O illustrious deity, hast thou restored the mountain to its former condition? Indeed, having burnt it once, why hast thou again caused it to be covered with trees?" "'"'Maheswara said, "O goddess without any fault, in consequence of thy having covered my eyes through an act of indiscretion the universe became in a moment devoid of light. When the universe became sunless and, therefore, all became dark, O daughter of the prince of mountains, I created the third eye desirous of protecting all creatures. The high energy of that eye crushed and consumed this mountain. For pleasing thee, however, O goddess, I once more made Himavat what he was by repairing the injury." "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, why are those faces of thine which are on the east, the north, and the west, so handsome and so agreeable to look at like the very moon? And why is that face of thine which is on the south so terrible? Why are thy matted locks tawny in hue and so erect? Why is thy throat blue after the manner of the peacock's plumes? Why, O illustrious deity, is the Pinaka always in thy hand? Why art thou always a Brahmacharin with matted locks? O lord, it behoves thee to explain all these to me. I am thy spouse who seeks to follow the same duties with thee. Further, I am thy devoted worshipper, O deity, having the bull for thy mark!"' "'"Narada continued, 'Thus addressed by the daughter of the prince of mountains, the illustrious wielder of Pinaka, the puissant Mahadeva, became highly gratified with her. The great god then addressed her saying, "O blessed lady, listen to me as I explain, with the reasons thereof, why my forms are so."'"'" SECTION CXLI "'"'The blessed and holy one said, "In days of yore, a blessed woman was created by Brahman, called Tilottama, by culling grains of beauty from every beautiful object in the universe. One day, that lady of beautiful face, unrivalled in the universe for beauty of form, came to me, O goddess, for circumambulating me but really impelled by the desire of tempting me. In whatever direction that lady of beautiful teeth turned, a new face of mine instantly appeared (so eager did I become to see her). All those faces of mine became agreeable to look at. Thus, in consequence of the desire of beholding her, I became four-faced, through Yoga-puissance. Thus, I showed my high Yoga-power in becoming four-faced. With that face of mine which is turned towards the east, I exercise the sovereignty of the universe. With that face of mine which is turned towards the north, I sport with thee, O thou of faultless features! That face of mine which is turned towards the west is agreeable and auspicious. With it I ordain the happiness of all creatures. That face of mine which is turned towards the south is terrible. With it I destroy all creatures. I live as a Brahmacharin with matted locks on my head, impelled by the desire of doing good to all creatures. The bow Pinaka is always in my hand for accomplishing the purposes of the deities. In days of yore, Indra, desirous of acquiring my prosperity, had hurled his thunderbolt at me. With that weapon my throat was scorched. For this reason I have become blue-throated." "'"'Uma said, "When, O foremost of all creatures, there are so many excellent vehicles endued with great beauty, why is it that thou hast selected a bovine bull for thy vehicle?" "'"'Maheswara said, "In the days of yore, the Grandsire Brahma created the celestial cow Surabhi yielding abundant milk. After her creation there sprang from her a large number of kine all of which yielded copious quantities of milk sweet as nectar. Once on a time a quantity of froth fell from the mouth of one of her calves on my body. I was enraged at this and my wrath scorched all the kine which thereupon became diversified in hue. I was then pacified by the Master of all the worlds, viz., Brahma, conversant with all topics. It was he who gave me this bull both as a vehicle for bearing me and as a device on my banner." "'"'Uma said, "Thou hast many abodes in heaven, of diverse forms and possessed of every comfort and luxury. Why, O holy one, dost thou reside in the crematorium, abandoning all those delightful mansions? The crematorium is full of the hair and bones (of the dead), abounds with vulture and jackals, and is strewn with hundreds of funeral pyres. Full of carrion and muddy with fat and blood, with entrails and bones strewn all over it, and always echoing with the howls of jackals, it is certainly an unclean place." "'"'Maheswara said, "I always wander over the whole earth in search of a sacred spot. I do not, however, see any spot that is more sacred than the crematorium. Hence, of all abodes, the crematorium pleases my heart most, shaded that it generally is by branches of the banian and adorned with torn garlands of flowers. O thou of sweet smiles, the multitudes of ghostly beings that are my companions love to reside in such spots. I do not like, O goddess, to reside anywhere without those ghostly creatures being by my side. Hence, the crematorium is a sacred abode to me. Indeed, O auspicious lady, it seems to me to be the very heaven. Highly sacred and possessed of great merit, the crematorium is much applauded by persons desirous of having holy abodes." "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, O lord of all creatures, O foremost of all observers of duties and religious rites, I have a great doubt, O wielder of Pinaka, O giver of boons. These ascetics, O puissant lord, have undergone diverse kinds of austerities. In the world are seen ascetics wandering everywhere under diverse forms and clad in diverse kinds of attire. For benefiting this large assemblage of Rishis, as also myself, do thou kindly resolve, O chastiser of all foes, this doubt of mine. What indications has Religion or Duty been said to possess? How, indeed, do men become unacquainted with the details of Religion or Duty to succeed in observing them? O puissant lord, O thou that art conversant with Religion, do thou tell me this."' "'"Narada continued, 'When the daughter of Himavat put this question, conclave of Rishis there present worshipped the goddess and adored her with words adorned with Riks and with hymns fraught with deep import. "'"'Maheswara said, "Abstention from injury, truthfulness of speech, compassion towards all beings, tranquillity of soul, and the making of gifts to the best of one's power, are the foremost duties of the householder. Abstention from sexual congress with the spouses of other men, protection of the wealth and the woman committed to one's charge, unwillingness to appropriate what is not given to one, and avoidance of honey and meat,--these are the five chief duties. Indeed, Religion or Duty has many branches all of which are fraught with happiness. Even these are the duties which these embodied creatures who regard duty as superior should observe and practise. Even these are the sources of merit." "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, I wish to ask thee another question about which I have great doubts. It behoveth thee to answer it and dispel my doubts. What are the meritorious duties of the four several orders? What duties appertain to the Brahmana? What to the Kshatriya? What are the indications of those duties that appertain to the Vaisya? And what kind of duties appertain to the Sudra?" "'"'The holy one said, "O highly blessed lady, the question thou hast asked is a very proper one. Those persons that belong to the regenerate order are regarded as highly blessed, and are, indeed, gods on earth. Without doubt, the observance of fasts (i.e., subjugation of the senses) is always the duty of the Brahmana. When the Brahmana succeeds in properly observing all his duties, he attains to identity with Brahma.[560] The proper observance of the duties of Brahmacharya, O goddess, are his ritual. The observance of vows and the investiture with the sacred thread are his other duties. It is by these that he becomes truly regenerate. He becomes a Brahmana for worshipping his preceptors and other seniors as also the deities. Verily, that religion which has for its soul the study of the Vedas is the source of all piety. Even that is the religion which those embodied creatures who are devoted to piety and duty should observe and practise." "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, my doubts have not been dispelled. It behoveth thee to explain in detail what the duties are of the four respective orders of men." "'"'Maheswara said, "Listening to the mysteries of religion and duty, observance of the vows indicated in the Vedas, attention to the sacred fire, and accomplishment of the business of the preceptor, leading a mendicant life, always bearing the sacred thread, constant recitation of the Vedas, and rigid observance of the duties of Brahmacharya, are the duties of the Brahmana. After the period of study is over, the Brahmana, receiving the command of his preceptor, should leave his preceptor's abode for returning to his father's house. Upon his return he should duly wed a wife that is fit for him. Another duty of the Brahmana consists in avoiding the food prepared by the Sudra. Walking along the path of righteousness, always observing fasts and the practices of Brahmacharya, are his other duties.[561] The householder should keep up his domestic fire for daily worship. He should study the Vedas. He should pour libations in honour of the Pitris and the deities. He should keep his senses under proper control. He should eat what remains after serving gods and guests and all his dependants. He should be abstemious in food, truthful in speech, and pure both externally and internally. Attending to guests is another duty of the householder, as also the keeping up of the three sacrificial fires. The householder should also attend to the ordinary sacrifices that go by the name of Ishti and should also dedicate animals to the deities according to the ordinances. Indeed, the performance of sacrifices is his highest duty as also a complete abstention from injury to all creatures. Never to eat before serving the deities and guests and dependants is another duty of the householder. The food that remains after serving gods and guests and dependants is called Vighasa. The householder should eat Vighasa. Indeed, to eat after the members of one's family including servants and other dependants, is regarded as one of the special duties of the regenerate householder, who should be conversant with the Vedas. The conduct of husband and wife, in the case of householder, should be equal. He should every day make offerings of flowers and other articles unto those deities that preside over domesticity. The householder should take care that his house is every day properly rubbed (with cowdung and water). He should also observe fasts every day. Well-cleaned and well-rubbed, his house should also be every day fumigated with the smoke of clarified butter poured on his sacred fire in honour of the deities and the Pitris. Even these are the duties appertaining to the householder's mode of life as observable by a regenerate person. Those duties really uphold the world. Verily, those duties always and eternally flow from those righteous persons among the Brahmanas that lead a life of domesticity. Do thou listen to me with concentrated attention, O goddess, for I shall now tell thee what the duties are which appertain to the Kshatriya and about which thou hast asked me. From the beginning it has been said that the duty of the Kshatriya is to protect all creatures. The king is the acquirer of a fixed share of the merits earned by his subjects. By that means the king becomes endued with righteousness. That ruler of men who rules and protects his subjects righteously, acquires, by virtue of the protection he offers to others, many regions of felicity in the world to come. The other duties of a person of the kingly order consist of self-restraint and Vedic study, the pouring of libations on the sacred fire, the making of gifts, study, the bearing of the sacred thread, sacrifices, the performance of religious rites, the support of servants and dependants, and perseverance in acts that have been begun. Another duty of his is to award punishments according to the offences committed. It is also his duty to perform sacrifices and other religious rites according to the ordinances laid down in the Vedas. Adherence to the practice of properly judging the disputes of litigants before him, and a devotion to truthfulness of speech, and interference for aiding the distressed, are the other duties by discharging which the king acquires great glory both here and hereafter. He should also lay down his life on the field of battle, having displayed great prowess on behalf of kine and Brahmanas. Such a king acquires in Heaven such regions of felicity as are capable of being won by the performance of Horse-sacrifices. The duties of the Vaisya always consist of the keeping of cattle and agriculture, the pouring of libations on the sacred fire, the making of gifts, and study. Trade, walking in the path of righteousness, hospitality, peacefulness, self-restraint, welcoming of Brahmanas, and renouncing things (in favour of Brahmanas), are the other eternal duties of the Vaisya. The Vaisya, engaged in trade and walking in the path of righteousness, should never sell sesame and perfumery and juices or liquid substances. He should discharge the duties of hospitality towards all. He is at liberty to pursue religion and wealth and pleasure according to his means and as much as is judicious for him. The service of the three regenerate classes constitutes the high duty of the Sudra. That Sudra who is truthful in speech and who has subdued his senses is regarded as having acquired meritorious penances. Verily, the Sudra, who having got a guest, discharges the duties of hospitality towards him, is regarded as acquiring the merit of high penances. That intelligent Sudra whose conduct is righteous and who worships the deities and Brahmanas, becomes endued with the desirable rewards of righteousness. O beautiful lady, I have thus recited to thee what the duties are of the four orders. Indeed, O blessed lady, I have told thee what their respective duties are. What else dost thou wish to hear?" "'"'Uma said, "Thou has recited to me what the respective duties are of the four orders, auspicious and beneficial for them. Do thou now tell me, O holy one, what the common duties are of all the orders." "'"'Maheswara said, "The foremost of all beings in the universe viz., the Creator Brahma, ever desirous of righteous accomplishments, created the Brahmanas for rescuing all the worlds. Among all created beings, they are, verily, gods on earth. I shall at the outset tell thee what the religious acts are which they should do and what the rewards are which they win through them. That religion which has been ordained for the Brahmanas is the foremost of all religions. For the sake of the righteousness of the world, three religions were created by the Self-born One. Whenever the world is created (or re-created), those religions are created by the Grandsire. Do thou listen. These are the three eternal religions. The religion that is propounded in the Vedas is the highest; that which is propounded in the Smritis is the next in the order of importance; the third in importance is that which is based upon the practices of those who are regarded as righteous. The Brahmans possessed of learning should have the three Vedas. He should never make the study of the Vedas (or recitation of the scriptures) the means of his living.[562] He should devote himself to the three well-known acts (of making gifts, studying the Vedas, and performing sacrifices). He should transcend the three (viz., lust, wrath, and covetousness). He should be the friend of all creatures. A person that possesses these attributes is called a Brahmana. The lord of the universe declared these six acts for the observance of Brahmanas. Listen to those eternal duties. The performance of sacrifices, officiating at the sacrifices of others, the making of gifts, the acceptance of gifts, teaching, and study, are the six acts by accomplishing which a Brahmans wins religious merit. Verily, the daily study of the Vedas is a duty. Sacrifice is (another) eternal duty. The making of gifts according to the measure of his power and agreeable to the ordinance, is, in his case, much applauded. Tranquillity of mind is a high duty that has always been current among them that are righteous. Householders of pure mind are capable of earning very great merit. Indeed, he who cleanses his soul by the performance of the five sacrifices, who is truthful in speech, who is free from malice, who makes gifts, who treats with hospitality and honour all regenerate guests, who lives in well-cleaned abodes, who is free from pride, who is always sincere in his dealings, who uses sweet and assuring words towards others, who takes pleasure in serving guests and others arrived at his abode, and who eats the food that remains after the requirements have been gratified of all the members of his family and dependants, wins great merit. That man who offers water to his guests for washing their feet and hands, who presents the Arghya for honouring the recipient, who duly gives seats, and beds, and lamps for lighting the darkness, and shelter to those that come to his abode, is regarded as highly righteous. That householder who rises at dawn and washes his mouth and face and serves food to his guests, and having honoured them duly dismisses them from his abode and follows them (as a mark of honour) for a little distance, acquires eternal merit. Hospitality towards all, and the pursuit of the aggregate of three, are the duties of the householder. The duties of the Sudra consist in the pursuit of the aggregate of three. The Religion ordained for the householder is said to have Pravritti for its chief indication. Auspicious, and beneficial to all creatures, I shall expound it to thee. The householder should always make gifts according to the measure of his power. He should also perform sacrifices frequently after the same manner. Indeed, he who wishes to achieve his own good should always achieve meritorious acts. The householder, should acquire wealth by righteous means. The wealth thus acquired should be carefully divided into three portions, keeping the requirements of righteousness in view. With one of those portions he should accomplish all acts of righteousness. With another he should seek to gratify his cravings for pleasure. The third portion he should lay out for increasing. The Religion of Nivritti is different. It exists for emancipation (from re-birth by absorption into Brahman). I shall tell thee the conduct that constitutes it. Listen to me in detail, O goddess. One of the duties inculcated by that religion is compassion towards all creatures. The man that follows it should not reside in one place for more than one day. Desirous of achieving emancipation, the followers of this Religion free themselves from the bonds of hope (or desire). They have no attachment to habitation, to the Kamandalu they bear for keeping water, to the robes that cover their loins, or the seat whereupon they rest, or the triple stick they bear in their hands, or the bed they sleep on, or the fire they want, or the chamber that houses them. A follower of this Religion sets his heart upon the workings of his soul. His mind is devoted to Supreme Brahman. He is filled with the idea of attaining to Brahman. He is always devoted to Yoga and the Sankhya Philosophy. He desires no other shelter than the foot of a tree. He houses himself in empty abodes of men. He sleeps on the banks of rivers. He takes pleasure in staying by such banks. He is freed from every attachment, and from every tie of affection. He merges the existence of his own soul into the Supreme Soul. Standing like a stake of wood, and abstaining from all food he does only such acts as point to Emancipation. Or, he may wander about, devoted to Yoga. Even these are the eternal duties of a follower of the Religion of Nivritti. He lives aloof from his species. He is freed from all attachments. He never resides in the same place for more than a day. Freed from all bonds he roves over the world. Emancipated from all ties, he never sleeps on even the same river-bank for more than a day. Even this is the religion of persons conversant with Emancipation as declared in the Vedas. Even this is the righteous path that is trodden by the righteous. He who follows in this track leaves no vestige behind. Bhikshus (or followers of the religion of Emancipation) are of four kinds. They are Kutichakas, Vahudakas, Hansas, and Paramahansas. The second is superior to the first, the third to the second, and the fourth to the third. There is nothing superior to the Paramahansa; nor is there anything inferior to it or beside it or before it. It is a condition that is divested of sorrow and happiness; that is auspicious and freed from decrepitude and death and that knows no change."[563] "'"'Uma said, "Thou hast recited the religion of the householders, that of Emancipation, and that which is based upon the observances of the righteous. These paths are high and exceedingly beneficial to the world of living creatures. O thou that art conversant with every religion, I desire now to hear what is the high religion of the Rishis. I always have a liking for those that dwell in ascetic retreats. The perfume that emanates from the smoke of the libations of clarified butter poured on the sacred fire seems to pervade the entire retreats and make them delightful. Marking this, O great god, my heart becomes always filled with delight. O puissant deity, I have doubts regarding the religion of the ascetics. Thou art conversant with the details of all religions. Do thou enlighten me, O god of gods, in detail, respecting this topic truly about which I have asked thee, O great deity!" "'"'The blessed and holy one said, "Yes, I shall recite to thee the high and excellent religion of the ascetics. By following the dictates of that religion, O auspicious lady, the ascetics attain to success through the severe penances they practise. O highly blessed one, do thou hear, from the beginning, what the duties are of those righteous Rishis that are conversant with every duty and that are known by the name of Phenapas. The Grandsire Brahma (during the days he devoted to the observance of penances) drank some nectar (in the form of water). That water had flowed in heaven from a great sacrifice. The froth of that water is highly auspicious and (in consequence of Brahma's having drunk it) it partook of His own nature. Those Rishis that subsist upon the measure of froth that thus issued (from the water indicated) are called Phenapas (Froth-eaters). Even this is the conduct of those pure-souled Rishis, O lady, possessed of wealth of penances! Listen now to me as I explain to thee who the Valkhilyas are. The Valkhilyas are ascetics that have won success by their penances. They reside in the solar disc. Adopting the means of subsistence that is followed by the birds, those Rishis, conversant with every duty of righteousness, live according to the Unchha mode. Their attire consists of deer-skins or barks of trees. Freed from every pair of opposites, the Valkhilyas, possessed of wealth of penances, walk in this track of righteousness. They are as big as a digit of the thumb. Distributed into classes, each class lives in the practice of the duties assigned to it. They desire only to practise penance. The merits they win by their righteous conduct are very high. They are regarded as having attained to an equality with the gods and exist for the accomplishment of the purposes of the gods. Having burnt off all their sins by severe penances, they blaze forth in effulgence, illuminating all the points of the compass. Others, called Chakracharas, are endued with cleansed souls and devoted to the practice of compassion. Righteous in their conduct and possessed of great sanctity, they live in the region of Soma. Thus residing near enough to the region of the Pitris, they duly subsist by drinking the rays of Soma. There are others called Samprakshalas and Asmkuttas and Dantolukhalas.[564] These live near the Soma-drinking deities and others that drink flames of fire. With their wedded spouses, and with passions under complete control, they too subsist upon the rays of Soma. They pour libations of clarified butter on the sacred fire, and adore the Pitris under proper forms. They also perform the well-known sacrifices. Even this is said to constitute their religion. The religion of the Rishis, O goddess, is always observed by those who are houseless and who are free to rove through every region including that of the gods. There are, again, other classes about whom I shall speak presently. Do thou listen. It is necessary that they who observe the different religions of the Rishis, should subjugate their passions and know the Soul. Indeed, in my opinion, lust and wrath should be completely conquered. With corn (wealth) acquired by the Unchha mode, they should discharge the following duties, viz., the pouring of libations on the sacred fire, occupying a fixed seat employing oneself the while in the sacrifice called Dharmaratri, performance of she Soma-sacrifice, acquisition of especial knowledge, the giving of sacrificial presents which forms the fifth, the daily performance of sacrifices, devotion to the worship of the Pitris and the deities, hospitality towards all. Abstention from all luxurious viands prepared from cow's milk, taking a pleasure in tranquillity of heart, lying on bare rocks or the earth, devotion to Yoga, eating potherbs and leaves of trees, and subsisting upon fruits and roots and wind and water and moss, are some of the practices of the Rishis by which they attain to the end that belongs to persons unsubjugated (by the world). When the smoke has ceased to curl upwards from a house, when the husking machine has ceased to ply, when the hearth-fire has been extinguished, when all the inmates have taken their food, when dishes are no longer carried from room to room, when mendicants have ceased to walk the streets, it is then that the man who is devoted to the religion of truth and tranquillity of soul, desiring to have a guest (but finding his desire ungratified), should eat what remnant of food may still occur in the house. By acting in this way, one becomes a practiser of the religion of the Munis. One should not be arrogant, nor proud, nor cheerless and discontented; nor should one wonder at anything. Indeed, one should behave equally towards friends and foes. Verily, one who is the foremost of all persons conversant with duties should also be friendly towards all creatures."'"'" SECTION CXLII "'"'Uma said, "Forest recluses reside in delightful regions, among the springs and fountains of rivers, in bowers by the sides of streams and rills, on hills and mountains, in woods and forests, and in sacred spots full of fruits and roots. With concentrated attention and observant of vows and rules, they dwell in such places. I desire, O Sankara, to hear the sacred ordinances which they follow. These recluses, O god of all gods, are persons that depend, for the protection of their bodies, upon themselves alone."[565] "'"'Maheswara said, "Do thou hear with concentrated attention what the duties are of forest recluses. Having listened to them with one mind, O goddess, do thou set thy heart upon righteousness. Listen then to what the acts are that should be practised by righteous recluses crowned with success, observant of rigid vows and rules, and residing in woods and forests. Performing ablutions thrice a day, worshipping the Pitris and the deities, pouring libations on the sacred fire, performing those sacrifices and rites that go by the name of Ishti-homa, picking up the grains of Nivara-paddy, eating fruit and roots, and using oil that is pressed out from Inguda and castor-seeds are their duties. Having gone through the practices of Yoga and become crowned with (ascetic) success and freed from lust and wrath, they should seat themselves in the attitude called Virasana. Indeed, they should reside in those places which are inaccessible to cowards.[566] Observant of the excellent ordinances relating to Yoga, sitting in summer in the midst of four fires on four sides with the sun overhead, duly practising what is called Manduka Yoga, and always seated in the attitude called Virasana, and lying on bare rocks or the earth, these men, with hearts set upon righteousness, must expose themselves to cold and water and fire. They subsist upon water or air or moss. They use two pieces of stones only for husking their corn. Some of them use their teeth only for such a purpose. They do not keep utensils of any kind (for storing anything for the day to come). Some of them clothe themselves with rags and barks of trees or deer-skins. Even thus do they pass their lives for the measure of time allotted to them, according to the ordinances (set forth in the scriptures). Remaining in woods and forests, they wander within woods and forests, live within them, and are always to be found within them. Indeed, these forest recluses entering into woods and forests live within them as disciples, obtaining a preceptor, live with him. The performance of the rites of Homa is their duty, as also the observance of the five sacrifices. A due observance of the rules about distribution (in respect of time) of the fivefold sacrifices as laid down in the Vedas, devotion to (other) sacrifices, forming the eighth, observance of the Chaturmasya, performance of the Paurnamasya, and other sacrifices, and performance of the daily sacrifices, are the duties of these men dissociated from wives, freed from every attachment, and cleansed from every sin. Indeed, they should live even thus in the forest. The sacrificial ladle and the water-vessel are their chief wealth. They are always devoted to the three fires. Righteous in their conduct and adhering to the path of virtue, they attain to the highest end. These Munis, crowned with (ascetic) success and ever devoted to the religion of Truth, attain to the highly sacred region of Brahman or the eternal region of Soma. O auspicious goddess, I have thus recited to thee, in brief, the outlines of the religion that is followed by forest recluses and that has many practices in detail." "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, O lord of all creatures, O thou that art worshipped by all beings, I desire to hear what the religion is of those Munis that are followers of the scriptures treating of ascetic success. Do thou recite it to me. Residing in woods and forests and well-accomplished in the scriptures of success, some amongst them live and act as they like, without being restrained by particular practices; others have wives. How, indeed, have their practices been laid down?" "'"'Mahadeva said, "O goddess, the shaving of the head and the wearing of the brown robes are the indications of those recluses that rove about in freedom; while the indications of those that sport with wedded wives consist in passing their nights at home. Performing ablutions three times a day is the duty of the classes, while the Homa, with water and fruits from the wilderness, belongs to the wedded recluses as performed by the Rishis in general. Absorption, Yoga-meditation, and adherence to those duties that constitute piety and that have been laid down as such (in the scriptures and the Vedas) are some of the other duties prescribed for them. All those duties also of which I have spoken to thee before as appertaining to recluses residing in forests, are the duties of these also. Indeed, if those duties are observed, they that observe them, attain to the rewards that attach to severe penances. Those forest recluses that lead wedded lives should confine the gratification of their senses to these wedded wives of theirs. By indulging in sexual congress with their wives at only those times when their seasons come, they conform to the duties that have been laid down for them. The religion which these virtuous men are to follow is the religion that has been laid down and followed by the Rishis. With their eyes set upon the acquisition of righteousness, they should never pursue any other object of desire from a sense of unrestrained caprice. That man who makes the gift unto all creatures of an assurance of perfect harmlessness or innocence, freed as his soul becomes from the stain of malice or harmfulness, becomes endued with righteousness. Verily, that person who shows compassion to all creatures, who adopts as a vow a behaviour of perfect sincerity towards all creatures, and who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures, becomes endued with righteousness. A bath in all the Vedas, and a behaviour of sincerity towards all creatures, are looked upon as equal in point of merit; or, perhaps, the latter is a little distinguished above the other in point of merit. Sincerity, it has been said, is Righteousness; while insincerity or crookedness is the reverse. That man who conducts himself with sincerity becomes endued with Righteousness. The man who is always devoted to sincerity of behaviour, succeeds in attaining to a residence among the deities. Hence, he who wishes to achieve the merit of righteousness should become endued with sincerity. Possessed of a forgiving disposition and of self-restraint, and with wrath under complete subjection, one should transform oneself into an embodiment of Righteousness and become freed from malice. Such a man, who becomes devoted, besides, to the discharge of all the duties of Religion, becomes endued with the merit of Righteousness. Freed from drowsiness and procrastination, the pious person, who adheres to the path of Righteousness to the best of his power, and becomes possessed of pure conduct, and who is venerable in years, comes to be regarded as equal to Brahma himself." "'"'Uma said, "By what course of duties, O god, do those ascetics who are attached to their respective retreats and possessed of wealth of penances, succeed in becoming endued with great splendour? By what acts again, do kings and princes who are possessed of great wealth, and others who are destitute of wealth, succeed in obtaining high rewards? By what acts, O god, do denizens of the forest succeed in attaining to that place which is eternal and in adorning their persons with celestial sandal-paste? O illustrious god of three eyes, O destroyer of the triple city, do thou dispel this doubt of mine connected with the auspicious subject of the observance of penances by telling everything in detail." "'"'The illustrious deity said, "Those who observe the vows relating to fasts and restrain their senses, who abstain from injury of any kind to any creature, and who practise truthfulness of speech, attain to success and ascending to Heaven sport in felicity with the Gandharvas as their companions, freed from every kind of evil. The righteous-souled man who lies down in the attitude which appertains to Manduka-Yoga, and who properly and according to the ordinance performs meritorious acts after having taken the Diksha, sports in felicity in the next world in the company of the Nagas. That man who lives in the company of deer and subsists upon such grass and vegetables as fall off from their mouths, and who has undergone the Diksha and attends to the duties attached to it, succeeds in attaining to Amaravati (the mansions of Indra). That man who subsists upon the moss he gathers and the fallen leaves of trees that he picks up, and endures all the severities of cold, attains to very high place. That man who subsists upon either air or water, or fruits and roots, attains in after life to the affluence that belongs to the Yakshas and sports in felicity in the company of diverse tribes of Apsaras. Having practised for two and ten years, according to the rites laid down in the ordinances, the vow relating to the endurance of the five fires in the summer season, one becomes in one's next life a king. That man who, having observed vows with respect to food, practises penances for two and twelve years, carefully abstaining from all interdicted food, taken at forbidden hours, during the periods becomes in his next life a ruler of earth.[567] That man who sits and lies on the bare ground with the cope of the firmament alone for his shelter, observes the course of duties that attach to Diksha, and then casts off his body by abstaining from all food, attains to great felicity in Heaven. The rewards of one who sits and lies down upon the bare ground (with the welkin alone for his shelter) are said to be excellent vehicles and beds, and costly mansions possessed of the resplendence of the moon, O lady! That man who, having subsisted upon abstemious diet and observed diverse excellent vows, lives depending upon his own self and then casts off his body by abstaining from all food, succeeds in ascending to heaven and enjoying all its felicity. That man who, having lived in entire dependence upon his own self, observes for two and ten years the duties that appertain to Diksha, and at last casts off his body on the great ocean, succeeds in attaining to the regions of Varuna after death. That man who, living in entire dependence upon his own self observes the duties that attach to Diksha for two and ten years, and pierces his own feet with a sharp stone, attains to the felicity of the region that belongs to the Guhyakas. He who cultivates self with the aid of self, who frees himself from the influence of all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, joy and sorrow, etc), who is freed from every kind of attachment, and who mentally observes for two and ten years such a course of conduct after Diksha, attains to Heaven and enjoys every happiness with the deities as his companions. He who lives in entire dependence upon his own self and observes for two and ten years the duties that attach to Diksha and finally casts off his body on the fire as an oblation to the deities, attains to the regions of Brahman and is held in high respect there. That regenerate man, O goddess, who having properly gone through the Diksha keeps his senses under subjugation, and placing his Self on Self frees himself from the sense of meum, desirous of achieving righteousness, and sets out, without a covering for his body, after the due observance of the duties of Diksha for two and ten years and after having placed his sacred fire on a tree, and walks along the path that belongs to heroes and lies down (when need for lying down comes) in the attitude of heroes, and conducts himself always after the manner of heroes, certainly attains to the end that is reserved for heroes.[568] Such a man repairs to the eternal region of Sakra where he becomes crowned with the fruition of all his wishes and where he sports in joy, his person decked with garlands of celestial flowers and celestial perfumes. Indeed, that righteous souled person lives happily in Heaven, with the deities as his companions. The hero, observant of the practices of heroes and devoted to that Yoga which belongs to heroes, living in the practice of Goodness, having renounced everything, having undergone the Diksha and subjugated his senses, and observing purity of both body and mind, is sure to attain to that path which is reserved for heroes. Eternal regions of happiness are his. Riding on a car that moves at the will of the rider, he roves through all those happy regions as he likes. Indeed, dwelling in the region of Sakra, that blessed person always sports in joy, freed from every calamity."'"'" SECTION CXLIII "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, O thou that didst tear off the eyes of Bhaga and the teeth of Pushan, O destroyer of the sacrifice of Daksha, O three-eyed deity, I have a great doubt. In days of yore, the Self-born One created the four orders. Through the evil consequence of what acts doth a Vaisya become a Sudra? Through what acts doth a Kshatriya become a Vaisya and a regenerate person (Brahmana) becomes a Kshatriya? By what means may such degradation of castes be prevented? Through what acts does a Brahmana take birth in his next life, in the Sudra order? Through what acts, O puissant deity, does a Kshatriya also descend to the status of Sudra? O sinless one, O lord of all created beings, do thou, O illustrious one, dispel this doubt of mine. How, again, can the three other orders naturally succeed in attaining to the status of Brahmanhood?" "'"'The illustrious one said, "The status of a Brahmana, O goddess, is exceedingly difficult to attain. O auspicious lady, one becomes a Brahmana through original creation or birth. After the same manner the Kshatriya, the Vaisya, and the Sudra, all become so through original creation. Even this is my opinion[569]. He, however, that is born a Brahmana falls away from his status through his own evil acts. Hence, the Brahmana, after having attained to the status of the first order, should always protect it (by his acts). If one, who is a Kshatriya or Vaisya, lives in the practice of those duties that are assigned to the Brahmana, after the manner of a Brahmana he becomes (in his next life) a Brahmana. That Brahmana who casts off the duties of his order for following those assigned for the Kshatriya, is regarded as one that has fallen away from the status of a Brahmana and that has become a Kshatriya. That Brahmana of little understanding, who, impelled by cupidity and folly, follows the practices assigned to Vaisyas forgetful of his status as a Brahmana that is exceedingly difficult to attain, comes to be regarded as one that has become a Vaisya. Similarly, one that is a Vaisya by birth may, by following the practices of a Sudra, become a Sudra. Indeed, a Brahmana, falling away from the duties of his own order, may descend to the status of even a Sudra. Such a Brahmana, falling away from the order of his birth and turned out of it, without attaining to the region of Brahmana (which is his goal if he duly observes his own duties), sinks into Hell and in his next birth becomes born as a Sudra. A highly blessed Kshatriya or a Vaisya, that abandons those practices of his that are consistent with the duties laid down for his order, and follows the practices laid down for the Sudra, falls away from his own order and becomes a person of mixed caste. It is in this way that a Brahmana, or a Kshatriya, or a Vaisya, sinks into the status of a Sudra. That man who has attained to clearness of vision through practice of the duties of his own order, who is endued with knowledge and science, who is pure (in body and mind), who is conversant with every duty and devoted to the practice of all his duties, is sure to enjoy the rewards of righteousness. I shall now recite to thee, O goddess, a saying uttered by Brahma (the Self-born) on this subject. Those that are righteous and desirous of acquiring merit always pursue with firmness the culture of the soul. The food that comes from cruel and fierce persons is censurable. So also is the food that has been cooked for serving a large number of persons. The same is said of the food that is cooked in view of the first Sraddha of a deceased person. So also is the food that is stained in consequence of the usual faults and the food that is supplied by a Sudra. These should never be taken by a Brahmana at any time[570]. The food of a Sudra, O goddess, is always disapproved of by the high-souled deities. Even this, I think, is the authority enunciated by the Grandsire with his own mouth. If a Brahmana, who has set up the sacred fire and who performs sacrifices, were to die with any portion of a Sudra's food remaining undigested in his stomach, he is sure to take birth in his next life as a Sudra. In consequence of those remains of a Sudra's food in his stomach, he falls away from the status of a Brahmana. Such a Brahmana becomes invested with the status of a Sudra. There is no doubt in this. This Brahmana in his next life becomes invested with the status of that order upon whose food he subsists through life or with the undigested portion of whose food in his stomach he breathes his last.[571] That man who, having attained to the auspicious status of a Brahmana which is so difficult to acquire, disregards it and eats interdicted food, falls away from his high status. That Brahmana who drinks alcohol, who becomes guilty of Brahmanicide or mean in his behaviour, or a thief, or who breaks his vows, or becomes impure, or unmindful of his Vedic studies, or sinful, or characterised by cupidity, or guilty of cunning or cheating, or who does not observe vows, or who weds a Sudra woman, or who derives his subsistence by pandering to the lusts of other people or who sells the Soma plant, or who serves a person of an order below his, falls away from his status of Brahmanahood.[572] That Brahmana who violates the bed of his preceptor, or who cherishes malice towards him, or who takes pleasure in speaking ill of him, falls away from the status of Brahmanahood even if he be conversant with Brahman. By these good acts, again, O goddess, when performed, a Sudra becomes a Brahmana, and a Vaisya becomes a Kshatriya. The Sudra should perform all the duties laid down for him, properly and according to the ordinance. He should always wait, with obedience and humility, upon person of the three other orders and serve them with care. Always adhering to the path of righteousness, the Sudra should cheerfully do all this. He should honour the deities and persons of the regenerate orders. He should observe the vow of hospitality to all persons. With senses kept under subjection and becoming abstemious in food, he should never approach his wife except in her season. He should ever search after persons that are holy and pure. As regards food, he should eat that which remains after the needs of all persons have been satisfied. If, indeed, the Sudra desires to be a Vaisya (in his next life), he should also abstain from meat of animals not slain in sacrifices. If a Vaisya wishes to be a Brahmana (in his next life), he should observe even these duties. He should be truthful in speech, and free from pride or arrogance. He should rise superior to all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, joy and sorrow, etc.) He should be observant of the duties of peace and tranquillity. He should adore the deities in sacrifices, attend with devotion to the study and recitation of the Vedas, and become pure in body and mind. He should keep his senses under subjection, honour the Brahmanas, and seek the welfare of all the orders. Leading the domestic mode of life and eating only twice a day at the prescribed hours he should gratify his hunger with only such food as remains after the needs have been satisfied of all the members of his family with dependants and guests. He should be abstemious in food, and act without being impelled by the desire of reward. He should be free from egotism. He should adore the deities in the Agnihotra and pour libations according to the ordinance. Observing the duties of hospitality towards all persons, he should, as already said, eat the food that remains after serving all others for whom it has been cooked. He should, according to the ordinance laid down, worship the three fires. Such a Vaisya of pure conduct takes birth in his next life in a high Kshatriya family.[573] If a Vaisya, after having taken birth as a Kshatriya, goes through the usual purificatory rites, becomes invested with the sacred thread, and betakes himself to the observance of vows, he becomes, in his next life, an honoured Brahmana. Indeed, after his birth as a Kshatriya, he should make presents, adore the deities in great sacrifices with plentiful Dakshinas, study the Vedas, and desirous of attaining to Heaven should worship the three fires. He should interfere for dispelling the sorrows of the distressed, and should always righteously cherish and protect those subjects that own his sway. He should be truthful, and do all acts that have truth in them, and seek happiness in conduct like this. He should award punishments that are righteous, without laying aside the rod of chastisement for good. He should induce men to do righteous deeds. Guided by considerations of policy (in the matter of swaying his people), he should take a sixth of the produce of the fields.[574] He should never indulge in sexual pleasure, but live cheerfully and in independence, well-conversant with the science of Wealth or Profit. Of righteous soul, he should seek his wedded spouse only in her season. He should always observe fasts, keep his soul under control, devote himself to the study of the Vedas, and be pure in body and mind. He should sleep on blades of Kusa grass spread out in his fire chamber. He should pursue the aggregate of Three (viz., Righteousness, Wealth, and Pleasure), and be always cheerful. Unto Sudras desirous of food, he should always answer that it is ready. He should never desire any thing from motives of gain or pleasure. He should worship the Pitris and gods and guests. In his own house he should live the life of a mendicant. He should duly adore the deities in his Agnihotra, morning, noon, and evening every day, by pouring libations agreeably to the ordinance. With his face turned towards the foe, he should cast off his life-breath in battle fought for the benefit of kine and Brahmanas. Or he may enter the triple fires sanctified with Mantras and cast off his body. By pursuing this line of conduct he takes birth in his next life as a Brahmana. Endued with knowledge and science, purified from all dross, and fully conversant with the Vedas, a pious Kshatriya, by his own acts, becomes a Brahmana. It is with the aid of these acts, O goddess, that a person who has sprung from a degraded order, viz., a Sudra, may become a Brahmana refined of all stains and possessed of Vedic lore, One that is a Brahmana, when he becomes wicked in conduct and observes no distinction in respect of food, falls away from the status of Brahmanahood and becomes a Sudra. Even a Sudra, O goddess, that has purified his soul by pure deeds and that has subjugated all his senses, deserves to be waited upon and served with reverence as a Brahmana. This has been said by the Self-born Brahmana himself. When a pious nature and pious deeds are noticeable in even a Sudra, he should, according to my opinion, be held superior to a person of the three regenerate classes. Neither birth, nor the purificatory rites, nor learning, nor offspring, can be regarded as grounds for conferring upon one the regenerate status. Verily, conduct is the only ground. All Brahmanas in this world are Brahmanas in consequence of conduct. A Sudra, if he is established on good conduct, is regarded as possessed of the status of a Brahmana. The status of Brahma, O auspicious lady, is equal wherever it exists. Even this is my opinion. He, indeed, is a Brahmana in whom the status of Brahma exists,--that condition which is bereft of attributes and which has no stain attached to it. The boon-giving Brahma, while he created all creatures, himself said that the distribution of human beings into the four orders dependent on birth is only for purposes of classification. The Brahmana is a great field in this world,--a field equipped with feet for it moves from place to place. He who plants seeds in that field, O beautiful lady, reaps the crop in the next world. That Brahmana who wishes to achieve his own good should always live upon the remains of the food that may be there in his house after gratifying the needs of all others. He should always adhere to the path of righteousness. Indeed, he should tread along the path that belongs to Brahma. He should live engaged in the study of the Samhitas and remaining at home he should discharge all the duties of a householder. He should always be devoted to the study of the Vedas, but he should never derive the means of subsistence from such study. That Brahmana who always conducts himself thus, adhering to the path of righteousness, worshipping his sacred fire, and engaged in the study of the Vedas, comes to be regarded as Brahma. The status of a Brahmana once gained, it should always be protected with care, O thou of sweet smiles, by avoiding the stain of contact with persons born in inferior orders, and by abstaining from the acceptance of gifts. I have thus told thee a mystery, viz., the manner in which a Sudra may become a Brahmana, or that by which a Brahmana falls away from his own pure status and becomes a Sudra."'"'" SECTION CXLIV "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, O Lord of all beings, O thou that art worshipped by the deities and Asuras equally, tell me what are the duties and derelictions of men. Indeed, O puissant one, resolve my doubts. It is by these three, viz., thought, word, and deed, that men become bound with bonds. It is by these same three that they become freed from those bonds. By pursuing what conduct, O god,--indeed, by what kind of acts,--by what behaviour and attributes and words, do men succeed in ascending to heaven?" "'"'The god of gods said, "O goddess, thou art well-conversant with the true import of duties. Thou art ever devoted to righteousness and self-restraint. The question thou hast asked me is fraught with the benefit of all creatures. It enhances the intelligence of all persons. Do thou, therefore, listen to the answer. Those persons that are devoted to the religion of Truth, that are righteous and destitute of the indications of the several modes of life, and that enjoy the wealth earned by righteous means, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that are freed from all doubts, that are possessed of omniscience, and that have eyes to behold all things, are never enchained by either virtue or sin. Those men that are freed from all attachments can never be bound by the chains of action. They who never injure others in thought, word, or deed, and who never attach themselves to anything, can never be bound by acts. They who abstain from taking the lives of any creature, who are pious in conduct, who have compassion, who regard friends and foes in an equal light and who are self-restrained, can never be bound by acts. Those men that are endued with compassion towards all beings, that succeed in inspiring the confidence of all living creatures, and that have cast off malice in their behaviour, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that have no desire to appropriate what belongs to others, that keep themselves aloof from the wedded wives of others, and that enjoy only such wealth as has been earned by righteous means, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men who behave towards the wives of other people as towards their own mothers and sisters and daughters, succeed in attaining to heaven. Those men that abstain from appropriating what belongs to others, that are perfectly contented with what they possess, and that live depending upon their own destiny, succeed in ascending to heaven. Those men that, in their conduct, always shut their eyes against association with other people's spouses, that are masters of their senses, and that are devoted to righteous conduct, succeed in ascending to heaven. Even this is the path, created by the gods, that the righteous should follow. This is the path, freed from passion and aversion, laid down for the righteous to follow. Those men who are devoted to their own spouses and who seek them only in their seasons, and who turn themselves away from indulgence in sexual pleasure, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Conduct marked by charity and penances, and characterised by righteousness of deeds and purity of both body and heart, should be followed by those that are wise for the sake of adding to their merit or for earning their means of subsistence. Those who wish to ascend to Heaven should follow in this track and not in any other." "'"'Uma said, "Tell me, O illustrious deity, O sinless lord of all creatures, what are those words by which one becomes enchained and what are those words by uttering which one may be freed from one's bonds." "'"'Maheswara said, "Those men who never tell lies for either themselves or for others, or in jest or for exciting laughter, succeed in ascending to Heaven. They who never tell lies for earning their subsistence or for earning merit or through mere caprice, succeed in ascending to Heaven. They who utter words that are smooth and sweet and faultless, and who welcome all whom they meet with sincerity, succeed in ascending to Heaven. They who never utter words that are harsh and bitter and cruel, and who are free from deceitfulness and evil of every kind, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men who never utter words that are fraught with deceit or that cause breach of understanding between friends, and who always speak what is true and what promotes good feelings, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men who avoid harsh speeches and abstain from quarrels with others, who are impartial in their behaviour to all creatures, and who have subjugated their souls, succeed in ascending to Heaven. They who abstain from evil speech or sinful conversation, who avoid such speeches as are disagreeable, and who utter only such words as are auspicious and agreeable, succeed in ascending to Heaven. They who never utter, under anger, such words as tear the hearts of other people, and who, even when under the influence of wrath, speak words that are peaceful and agreeable, succeed in ascending to Heaven. The religion, O goddess, appertaining to speech, should always be followed by men. It is auspicious and characterised by truth. They that are possessed of wisdom should always avoid untruth." "'"'Uma said, "Do thou tell me, O god of gods, O wielder of Pinaka, O thou that art highly blessed, what those mental acts or thoughts are by which a person may be enchained." "'"'Maheswara said, "Endued with merit that arises from mental acts, O goddess, one ascends to Heaven. Listen to me, O auspicious one, as I recite to thee what those acts are. Listen to me, O thou of sweet face, how also a mind of ill-regulated features becomes enchained by ill-regulated or evil thoughts. Those men who do not seek even mentally, to take what belongs to others even when they see it lying in a lone forest, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men who care not to appropriate what belongs to others even when they see it lying in a house or a village that has been deserted, ascend to Heaven. Those men that do not seek, even mentally, to associate with the wedded spouses of others even when they behold them in deserted places and under the influence of desire, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men who, meeting with friends or foes, behave in the same friendly way towards all, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men that are possessed of learning and compassion, that are pure in body and mind, that are firm in their adherence to truth, and that are contented with what belongs to them, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men that do not bear ill-will to any creature, that do not stand in need of labour for their subsistence, that bear friendly hearts towards all beings, and that entertain compassion towards all, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men that are endued with faith, that have compassion, that are holy, that seek the company of holy men, and that are conversant with the distinctions between right and wrong, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men, O goddess, that are conversant with what the consequences are of good and bad deeds, succeed in ascending to Heaven. Those men that are just in all their dealings, that are endued with all desirable accomplishments, that are devoted to the deities and the Brahmanas, and that are endued with perseverance in the doing of good acts, succeed in ascending to Heaven. All these men, O goddess, succeed in ascending to Heaven through the meritorious consequences of their deeds. What else dost thou wish to hear?" "'"'Uma said, "I have a great doubt, O Maheswara, on a subject connected with human beings. It behoveth thee to explain it to me carefully. By what acts does a man succeed, O puissant deity, in acquiring a long life? By what penances also does one acquire a long life? By what acts does one become shortlived on earth? O thou that art perfectly stainless, it behoveth thee to tell me what the consequences are of acts (in the matter of bestowing a long or a short life on the doer). Some are seen to be possessed of great good fortune and some weighted with misfortune. Some are of noble birth while others of ignoble birth. Some are of such repulsive features as if they are made of wood, while others are of very agreeable features at even the first sight. Some appear to be destitute of wisdom while others are possessed of it. Some, again, are seen endued with high intelligence and wisdom, enlightened by knowledge and science. Some have to endure little pain, while others there are that are weighted with heavy calamities. Even such diverse sights are seen with respect to men. It behoveth thee, O illustrious one, to tell me the reason of all this." "'"'The god of gods said, "Verily, O goddess, I shall discourse to thee on the manifestation of the fruits of acts. It is by the rules of that manifestation that all human beings in this world enjoy or endure the consequences of their acts. That man who assumes a fierce aspect for the purpose of taking the lives of other creatures, who arms himself with stout sticks for injuring other creatures, who is seen with uplifted weapons, who slays living creatures, who is destitute of compassion, who always causes agitation to living beings, who refuses to grant protection to even worms and ants, who is endued with cruelty,--one who is such, O goddess, sinks in Hell. One who is endued with an opposite disposition and who is righteous in acts, is born as a handsome man. The man who is endued with cruelty, goes to Hell, while he that is endued with compassion ascends to Heaven. The man who goes to Hell has to endure excruciating misery. One who, having sunk in Hell, rises therefrom, takes birth as a man endued with short life. That man who is addicted to slaughter and injury, O goddess, becomes, through his sinful deeds, liable to destruction. Such a person becomes disagreeable to all creatures and endued with a short life. That man who belongs to what is called the White class, who abstains from the slaughter of living creatures, who has thrown away all weapons, who never inflicts any chastisement on anybody, who never injures any creatures, who never causes anybody to slay creatures for him, who never slays or strikes even when struck or attempted to be slain, who never sanctions or approves an act of slaughter, who is endued with compassion towards all creatures, who behaves towards others as towards his own self,--such a superior man, O goddess, succeeds in attaining to the status of a deity. Filled with joy, such a man enjoys diverse kinds of luxurious articles. If such a person ever takes birth in the world of men, he becomes endued with longevity and enjoys great happiness. Even this is the way of those that are of righteous conduct and righteous deeds and that are blessed with longevity, the way that was indicated by the Self-born Brahman himself and that is characterised by abstention from the slaughter of living creatures."'"'" SECTION CXLV "'"'Uma said, "By what disposition, what conduct, what acts, and what gifts, does a man succeed in attaining to Heaven?" "'"'Maheswara said, "He who is endued with a liberal disposition, who honours Brahmanas and treats them with hospitality, who makes gifts of food and drink and robes and other articles of enjoyment unto the destitute, the blind, and the distressed, who makes gifts of houses, erects halls (for use of the public), digs wells, constructs shelters whence pure and cool water is distributed (during the hot months unto thirsty travellers), excavates tanks, makes arrangements for the free distribution of gifts every day, gives to all seekers what each solicits, who makes gifts of seats and beds and conveyances, wealth, jewels and gems, houses, all kinds of corn, kine, fields, and women,--verily, he who always makes these gifts with a cheerful heart, becomes a denizen, O goddess, of Heaven. He resides there for a long period, enjoying diverse kinds of superior articles. Passing his time happily in the company of the Apsaras, he sports in the woods of Nandana and other delightful regions. After the exhaustion of his merits he falls down from Heaven and takes birth in the order of humanity, in a family, O goddess, that is possessed of wealth in abundance and that has a large command of every article of enjoyments. In that life he becomes endued with all articles for gratifying his wishes and appetites. Indeed, blessed with the possession of such articles, he becomes endued with affluence and a well-filled treasury. The self-born Brahman himself declared it in days of old that it is even such persons, O goddess, that become highly blessed and possessed of liberal dispositions and agreeable features. There are others, O goddess, that are incapable of making gifts. Endued with small understandings, they cannot make gifts even when solicited by Brahmanas and possessed of abundant wealth. Beholding the destitute, the blind, the distressed, and mendicants, and even guests arrived at their abodes, those persons, always filled with the desire of gratifying the organ of taste, turn away, even when expressly solicited by them. They never make gifts of wealth or robes, or viands, or gold, or kine, or any kind of food. Those men who are disinclined to relieve the distress of others, who are full of cupidity, who have no faith in the scriptures, and who never make gifts,--verily, these men of little understanding, O goddess, have to sink in Hell. In course of time, when their sufferings in Hell come to an end, they take birth in the order of humanity, in families that are entirely destitute of wealth. Always suffering from hunger and thirst, excluded from all decent society, hopeless of ever enjoying good things, they lead lives of great wretchedness. Born in families that are destitute of all articles of enjoyment, these men never succeed in enjoying the good things of the world. Indeed, O goddess, it is through their acts that persons become wretched and poor. There are others who are full of arrogance and pride caused by the possession of riches. Those senseless wretches never offer seats to those that deserve such an offer. Endued with little understandings they do not give way to them that deserve such an honour.[575] Nor do they give water for washing the feet to persons unto whom it should be given. Indeed, they do not honour, agreeably to the ordinance, with gifts of the Arghya, such persons as deserve to be honoured therewith. They do not offer water for washing the mouth unto such as deserve to have that honour. They do not treat their very preceptors, when the latter arrive at their houses, in the manner in which preceptors should be treated. Living in cupidity and arrogance, they refuse to treat their seniors and aged men with love and affection, even insulting those that deserve to be honoured and asserting their superiority over them without showing reverence and humility. Such men, O goddess, sink in Hell. When their sufferings come to an end after a long course of years, they rise from Hell, and take birth in the order of humanity, in low and wretched families. Indeed, they who humiliate their preceptors and seniors, have to take their birth in such castes as those of Swapakas and Pukkasas who are exceedingly vile and bereft of intelligence. He who is not arrogant or filled with pride, who is a worshipper of the deities and Brahmanas, who enjoys the respect of the world, who bows to every one that deserves his reverence, who utters smooth and sweet words, who benefits persons of all orders, who is always devoted to the good of all beings, who does not feel aversion for anybody, who is sweet-tongued, who is an utterer of agreeable and cooling words, who gives way to one that deserves to have way, who adores his preceptors in the manner in which preceptors deserve to be adored, who welcomes all creatures with proper courtesy, who does not hear ill will towards any creature, who lives, worshipping seniors and guests with such honours as they deserve, who is ever bent upon securing as many guests as possible, and who worships all who honour his house with their presence, succeeds, O goddess, in ascending to Heaven. Upon the exhaustion of his merit, he takes birth in the order of humanity in a high and respectable family. In that life he becomes possessed of all articles of enjoyment in abundance and jewels and gems and every kind of wealth in profusion. He gives unto deserving persons what they deserve. He becomes devoted to the observance of every duty and every act of righteousness. Honoured by all creatures and receiving their reverence, he obtains the fruits of his own acts. Even such a person acquires a high lineage and birth in this world. This that I have recited to thee was said by the Ordainer (Brahman) himself in days of old. That man who is fierce in conduct, who inspires terror in all creatures, who injures other beings with hands or feet or cords or sticks, or brick-bats or clods of hard clay, or other means of wounding and paining, O beautiful lady, who practises diverse kinds of deceit for slaying living creatures or vexing them, who pursues animals in the chase and causes them to tremble in fear,--verily, that man, who conducts himself in this way, is certain to sink in Hell. If in course of time he takes birth in the order of humanity, he is obliged to be born in a low and wretched race or family that is afflicted with impediments of every kind on every side. He becomes an object of aversion to all the world. Wretched among men, he becomes so through the consequence of his own acts. Another, who is possessed of compassion, casts his eye on all creatures. Endued with a friendly vision, behaving towards all creatures as if he were their father, divested of every hostile feeling, with all his passions under complete control, he never vexes any creature and never inspires them with fear by means of his hands or feet which are always under his control. He inspires the confidence of all beings. He never afflicts any creature with either cords or clubs or brick-bats or clods of hard earth or weapons of any kind. His deeds are never fierce or cruel, and he is full of kindness. One who is endued with such practices and conduct certainly ascend to Heaven. There he lives like a god in a celestial mansion abounding with every comfort. If, upon the exhaustion of his merit, he has to take birth in the order of humanity, he becomes born as a man that has not to fight with difficulties of any kind or to encounter any fear. Indeed, he enjoys great happiness. Possessed of felicity, without the obligation of undergoing distressing labour for his subsistence, he lives freed from every kind of anxiety. Even this, O goddess, is the path of the righteous. In it there are no impediments or afflictions." "'"'Uma said, "In the world some men are seen well-versed in inferences and the premises leading to them. Indeed, they are possessed of science and knowledge, have large progeny, and are endued with learning and wisdom. Others, O god, are destitute of wisdom, science, and knowledge, and are characterised by folly. By what particular acts does a person become possessed of wisdom? By what acts, again, does one become possessed of little wisdom and distorted vision? Do thou dispel this doubt of mine, O thou that art the foremost of all beings conversant with duties. Others there are, O god, that are blind from the moment of their birth. Others there are that are diseased and afflicted and impotent. Do thou, O god, tell me the reason of this." "'"'Maheswara said, "Those men that always enquire, about what is for their benefit and what is to their detriment, Brahmanas learned in the Vedas, crowned with success, and conversant with all duties, that avoid all kinds of evil deeds and achieve only such deeds as are good, succeed in ascending to Heaven after departing from this world and enjoy great happiness as long as they live here. Indeed, upon the exhaustion of their merit when they take birth in the order of humanity, they become born as men possessed of great intelligence. Every kind of felicity and auspiciousness becomes theirs in consequence of that intelligence with which they are born. Those men of foolish understandings who cast wicked eyes upon the wedded spouses of other men, become cursed with congenital blindness in consequence of that sinfulness of theirs. Those men who, impelled by desire in their hearts, cast their eyes on naked women, those men of wicked deeds take birth in this world to pass their whole lives in one continuous disease. Those men of foolish and wicked deeds who indulge in sexual congress with women of orders different from their own,--those men of little wisdom,--have to take birth in their next lives as persons destitute of virility. Those men who cause animals to be slain, and those who violate the beds of their preceptors, and those who indulge promiscuously in sexual congress, have to take birth in their next lives as persons destitute of the virile power." "'"'Uma said, "What acts, O foremost of the deities, are faulty, and what acts are faultless? What, indeed, are those acts by doing which a man succeeds in attaining to what is for your highest good?" "'"'Maheswara said, "That man who is desirous of ascertaining what is righteousness, and who wishes to acquire prominent virtues and accomplishments, and who always puts questions to the Brahmanas with a view to find out the path that leads to his highest good, succeed in ascending to Heaven. If (after exhaustion of his merit) he takes birth in the order of humanity, he becomes endued with intelligence and memory and great wisdom. This, O goddess, is the line of conduct that the righteous are to follow and that is fraught with great benefit. I have told thee of it for the good of human beings." "'"'Uma said, "There are men who hate righteousness and who are possessed of little understanding. They never wish to approach Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas. There are others who are observant of vows and who are devoted to the duty of performing Sraddhas. Others, again, are destitute of all vows. They are unmindful of observance and are like Rakshasas in conduct. Some there are who are devoted to the performance of sacrifices and some who are unmindful of the Homa. Through the consequences of what acts do men become possessed of These different natures?" "'"'Maheswara said, "Through the Vedas, the limits have been assigned of all the acts of human beings. Those men that conduct themselves according to the authority of the Vedas, are seen (in their next lives) to become devoted to the observance of vows. Those men, however, who having become subject to the sway of folly accept unrighteousness for its reverse, become destitute of vows, transgress all restraints, and come to be regarded as Brahmarakshasas. Indeed, it is these men that become unmindful of the Homa, that never utter the Vashat and other sacred Mantras, and that come to be regarded as the lowest and vilest of men. Thus, O goddess, have I explained to thee the entire ocean of duties in respect of human beings for the sake of removing thy doubts, not omitting the sins of which they become guilty."'"'" SECTION CXLVI "'"Narada said, 'Having said these words, the puissant Mahadeva himself became desirous of hearing (instead of talking), and with that view he questioned his dear spouse who was seated by his side and she was fully inclined to act up to his desire.' "'"'Mahadeva said, "Thou, O goddess, art conversant with what is Supreme and what is not.[576] Thou art acquainted with all duties, O thou that lovest to reside in the retreats of ascetics. Thou art endued with every virtue, possessed of beautiful eyebrows and hair ending in the fairest curls, O daughter of Himavat, the king of mountains! Thou art skilled in every work. Thou art endued with self-restraint and thou lookest impartially upon all creatures. Divested of the sense of meum, thou art devoted to the practice of all the duties. O thou of beautiful features, I desire to ask thee about something. I wish that, asked by me, thou wilt discourse to me on that topic. Savitri is the chaste wife of Brahma. The chaste Sachi is the wife of Indra. Dhumrorna is the spouse of Markandeya, and Riddhi of (king) Vaisravana. Varuna has Gauri for his spouse, and Surya has Suvarchala. Rohini is the chaste wife of Sasin, and Swaha of Vibhavasu. Kasyapa has Aditi. All these regard their husbands as their gods. Thou hast, O goddess, conversed and associated with all of them every day. It is for this reason, O thou that art conversant with every duty, that I desire to question thee about the duties of women, O thou whose words are always consistent with righteousness. I desire to hear thee discourse on that subject from the beginning. Thou practisest all the duties of righteousness with me. Thy conduct is exactly like mine, and the vows thou observest are the same that are observed by me. Thy puissance and energy are equal to mine, and thou hast undergone the austerest penances. The subject, when discoursed upon by thee, will become endued with great merit. Indeed, that discourse will then become authoritative in the world. Women, in especial, are the highest refuge of women. O thou of beautiful hips, among human beings that course of conduct which thou wilt lay down will be followed from generation to generation.[577] Half of my body is made up of half thy body. Thou art always engaged in doing the work of the deities, and it is thou that art the cause of the peopling of the earth. O auspicious lady, all the eternal duties of women are well-known to thee. Do thou, therefore, tell me in detail what are the duties of thy sex." "'"'Uma said, "O holy one, O lord of all created things, O source of all that is past, present, and future, it is through thy grace that the words I am uttering are taking their rise in my mind. All these Rivers (that are of my sex), O god of gods, endued with the waters of all the Tirthas, are approaching thy presence for enabling thee to perform thy ablutions in them.[578] After consulting them I shall discourse on the topic named, in due order. That person who, though competent, is still free from egotism, is rightly called a Purusha.[579] As regards woman, O lord of all beings, she follows persons of her sex. By consulting these foremost of Rivers, they will be honoured by me. The sacred Saraswati is the foremost river of all rivers. She courses towards the ocean and is truly the first of all streams. Vipasa also here, and Vitasta, and Chandrabhaga, and Iravati, and Satadru, and the river Devika, and Kausiki, and Gomati.[580] and this celestial River who has in her all the sacred Tirthas, viz., the goddess Ganga, who having her rise in Heaven hath descended on the Earth and is regarded as the foremost of all streams." Having said this, the spouse of that god of gods, that foremost of all righteous persons, smilingly addressed all those Rivers of her sex. Indeed, the spouse of the great god, devoted to the performance of all duties, questioned those individuals of her sex about the duties of women. Verily, those foremost of rivers having Ganga for their first are all conversant with the duties of women. "'"'Uma said, "The illustrious god has asked a question relating to the duties of women. I desire to answer Sankara after having consulted with you. I do not see any branch of knowledge on Earth or Heaven that is capable of being mastered by any unaided individual. Ye rivers that run towards the ocean, it is for this that I seek your opinions!" It was in this way that those foremost of Rivers, all of whom were auspicious and highly sacred, were questioned by Siva's spouse. Then the celestial River Ganga, who worshipped the daughter of the prince of mountains in return, was selected for answering the question. Verily, she of sweet smiles is held as swelling with diverse kinds of understanding and well-conversant with the duties of women. The sacred goddess, capable of dispelling all fear of sin, possessed of humility in consequence of her intelligence, well acquainted with all duties, and enriched with an intelligence exceedingly comprehensive, sweetly smiling, uttered these, words, "O goddess, thou art always devoted to the due performance of all duties. Thou hast favoured me highly by thus questioning me! O sinless one, thou art honoured by the entire universe, yet thou askest me that am but a river. That person who, though himself competent (to discourse on a topic) yet asks another, or who pays a graceful tribute to another, certainly deserves, I think, to be regarded as righteous-souled. Verily, such a person deserves to be called learned and wise. That person never falls into disgrace who asks such speakers as are endued with knowledge and science and as are well-conversant with premises and inferences. A proud man, even when enriched with intelligence, by speaking in the midst of an assembly otherwise (that is, by relying upon his own powers alone and without reference to or consultation with others), finds himself uttering only words of weak import. Thou art possessed of spiritual insight, Thou art the foremost of all denizens in Heaven. Thou hast taken thy rise accompanied by diverse kinds of excellent merit. Thou, O goddess, art fully competent to discourse on the duties of women!" In this way, the goddess Uma was worshipped by Ganga and honoured with the ascription of many high merits. The beautiful goddess, thus praised, then began to discourse upon all the duties of women in full. "'"'Uma said, "I shall, according to the ordinance, discourse on the subject of women's duties as far as they are known to me. Do ye all listen with concentrated attention! The duties of women arise as created at the outset by kinsmen in the rites of wedding. Indeed, a woman becomes, in the presence of the nuptial fire, the associate of her lord in the performance of all righteous deeds.[581] Possessed of a good disposition, endued with sweet speech, sweet conduct, and sweet features, and always looking at the face of her husband and deriving as much joy from it as she does from looking at the face of her child, that chaste woman who regulates her acts by observing the prescribed restraints, comes to be regarded as truly righteous in her conduct. Listening (with reverence) to the duties of wedded life (as expounded in the scriptures), and accomplishing all those auspicious duties, that woman who regards righteousness as the foremost of all objects of pursuit, who observes the same vows as those that are observed by her husband, who adorned with chastity, looks upon her spouse as a god, who waits upon and serves him as if he is a god, who surrenders her own will completely to that of her lord, who is cheerful, who observes excellent vows, who is endued with good features, and whose heart is completely devoted to her husband so much that she never thinks even of any other man, is regarded as truly righteous in conduct. That wife who, even when addressed harshly and looked upon with angry eyes by her lord, presents a cheerful aspect to him, is said to be truly devoted to her husband. She who does not cast her eyes upon the Moon or the Sun or a tree that has a masculine name, who is adored by her husband and who is possessed of beautiful features, is regarded as truly righteous. That woman who treats her husband with the affection which she shows towards her child, even when he (the husband) happens to be poor or diseased or weak or worn out with the toil of travelling, is regarded as truly righteous in her conduct. That woman who is endued with self-control, who has given birth to children, who serves her husband with devotion, and whose whole heart is devoted to him, is regarded as truly righteous in her conduct. That woman who waits upon and serves her lord with a cheerful heart, who is always cheerful of heart, and who is possessed of humility, is regarded as truly righteous in her conduct. That woman who always supports her kinsmen and relatives by giving them food, and whose relish in gratifying her desires or for articles of enjoyment, or for the affluence of which she is possessed, or for the happiness with which she is surrounded, falls short of her relish for her husband, is regarded as truly righteous in her conduct. That woman who always takes a pleasure in rising at early dawn, who is devoted to the discharge of all household duties, who always keeps her house clean, who rubs her house daily with cowdung, who always attends to the domestic fire (for pouring libations upon it), who never neglects to make offerings of flowers and other articles to the deities, who with her husband gratifies the deities and guests and all servants and dependants of the family with that share of food which is theirs by the ordinances, and who always takes, according to the ordinance, for herself, what food remains in the house after the needs have been met of gods and guests and servants, and who gratifies all people who come in contact with her family and feed them to their fill, succeeds in acquiring great merit. That woman who is endued with accomplishments, who gratifies the feet of her father-in-law and mother-in-law, and who is always devoted to her father and mother, is regarded as possessed of ascetic wealth. That woman who supports with food Brahmanas that are weak and helpless, that are distressed or blind or destitute, comes to be regarded as entitled to share the merit of her husband. That woman who always observes, with a light heart, vows that are difficult of observance, whose heart is devoted to her lord, and who always seeks good of her lord, is regarded as entitled to share the merits of her husband. Devotion to her lord is woman's merit; it is her penance; it is her eternal Heaven. Merit, penances, and Heaven become hers who looks upon her husband as her all in all, and who, endued with chastity, seeks to devote herself to her lord in all things. The husband is the god which women have. The husband is their friend. The husband is their high refuge. Women have no refuge that can compare with their husbands, and no god that can compare with him. The husband's grace and Heaven, are equal in the estimation of a woman; or, if unequal, the inequality is very trivial. O Maheswara, I do not desire Heaven itself if thou are not satisfied with me. If the husband that is poor, or diseased or distressed or fallen among foes, or afflicted by a Brahmana's curse, were to command the wife to accomplish anything that is improper or unrighteous or that may lead to destruction of life itself, the wife should, without any hesitation, accomplish it, guided by the code whose propriety is sanctioned by the law of Distress. I have thus, O god, expounded, at thy command, what the duties of women are. Verily, that woman who conducts herself in this way becomes entitled to a share of the merits won by her husband."' "'"Narada continued, 'Thus addressed, the great god applauded the daughter of the prince of mountains and then dismissed all persons that had assembled there, together with all his own attendants. The diverse tribes of ghostly beings, as also all the embodied Rivers, and the Gandharvas and Apsaras, all bowed their heads unto Mahadeva and departed for returning to the places whence they had come.'"'" SECTION CXLVII "'"'The Rishis said, "O wielder of Pinaka, O tearer of the eyes of Bhaga, O thou that art worshipped by all the universe, we desire to hear the glory of Vasudeva." "'"'Maheswara said, "Hari is superior to the Grandsire himself. He is the Eternal Purusha. Otherwise called Krishna, he is endued with the splendour of gold, and shines with effulgence like a second sun. Possessed of ten arms, he is endued with great energy, and is the slayer of the foes of the gods. Having a whorl on his breast, he has curly locks of hair on his head. He is worshipped by all the deities. Brahman has risen from his abdomen. I have sprung from his head, All the luminaries in the firmament have sprung from his hair. From the bristles on his body have sprung all the gods and Asuras. From his body have sprung the Rishis as also all the eternal worlds. He is the veritable abode of the Grandsire and the abode of all the gods besides. He is the Creator of this whole Earth, and He is the Lord of the three worlds. He is also the Destroyer of all creatures mobile and immobile. He is verily the foremost of all the deities. He is their master. He is the chastiser of all foes. He is possessed of omniscience. He exists in everything. He is capable of going everywhere. He is of universal extent (pervading as he does everything). He is the Supreme Soul. He is the urger of all the senses. He covers the universe. He is the Supreme Lord. There is nothing in the three worlds that is superior to him. He is Eternal. He is the slayer of Madhu, and is otherwise called Govinda. The giver of honours, He will cause all the kings of Earth to be slain in battle, for achieving the purposes of the deities, taking birth in a human form. The deities, abandoned by Him, are unable to accomplish their purposes on earth. Without obtaining him as their leader they cannot do anything. He is the leader of all creatures and is adored by all the gods[582]. Within the abdomen of this Master of the gods who is ever devoted to the accomplishment of their purposes, of this one who is identical with Brahma and who is always the refuge of the regenerate Rishis, resides Brahma (the Grandsire). Indeed, the latter dwells happily in Hari's body which is the abode. I myself, that am called Sarva, also reside happily in that happy abode of mine. All the deities too reside in happiness in His body. Endued with great effulgence, he has eyes that resemble the petals of the lotus. Sri dwells within Him and He dwells always associated with her. The bow called Saranga and the discus (called Sudarsana) are his weapons, together with a sword. He has the enemy of the snakes (viz., Garuda) sitting on his standard. He is distinguished by excellent conduct, by purity (of both body and mind), by self-restraint, by prowess, by energy, by the handsomest form, by tallness and well-proportioned limbs, by patience, by sincerity, by affluence, by compassion, by excellence of form, and by might. He shines, endued with all celestial weapons of wonderful form and make. He has Yoga for his illusion. He is possessed of a thousand eyes. He is free from every stain or fault. He is high-minded. He is endued with heroism. He is an object of pride with all his friends. He is dear to all his kinsmen and relatives and they are dear to him. He is endued with forgiveness. He is free from pride or egotism. He is devoted to the Brahmanas and is their leader. He dispels the fears of all persons afflicted with fear. He enhances the joys of all his friends. He is the refuge of all creatures. He is ever engaged in protecting and cherishing the distressed. Possessed of a thorough acquaintance with all the scriptures, and every kind of affluence, He is worshipped by all beings. Conversant with all duties, He is a great benefactor of even enemies when they seek His protection. Conversant with policy and endued with policy, He is an utterer of Brahma and has all His senses under perfect control. For doing good to the deities, Govinda will take birth in the race of the high-souled Manu. Verily, endued with high intelligence, He will take birth in the auspicious and righteous race of that Prajapati. Manu will have a son of the name of Anga. After Anga will come Antardhaman. From Antardhaman will spring Havirdhaman, that lord of all creatures, free from every stain. Havirdhaman will have an illustrious son of the name of Rachinavarhi. He will have ten sons having Prachetas for their first. Prachetas will have a son named Daksha who will be regarded as a Prajapati. Daksha will beget a daughter who will be named Dakshayani. From Dakshayani will spring Aditya, and from Aditya will spring Manu. From Manu will spring a daughter named Ila and a son to be named Sudyumna. Ila will have Vudha for her husband, and from Vudha will spring Pururavas. From Pururavas will spring Ayu. From Ayu will spring Nahusha, and Nahusha will beget a son named Yayati. From Yayati will spring a mighty son of the name of Yadu, Yadu will beget Kroshtri. Kroshtri will beget a mighty son to be named Vrijinivat. From Vrijinivat will spring Ushadgu the unvanquished. Ushadgu will beget a son of the name of Chitraratha. Chitraratha will have a younger son of the name of Sura. Indeed, in the race of these mighty men, of energy celebrated over all the world, possessed of excellent conduct and diverse accomplishments, devoted to the performance of sacrifices and pure in behaviour,--in the pure race honoured by the Brahmanas, Sura will take his birth. He will be a foremost Kshatriya, endued with great energy, and possessed of great fame. Sura, that giver of honours, will beget a son, the spreader of his race, of the name of Vasudeva, otherwise called Anakadundhuvi. Vasudeva will have a son of the name of Vasudeva. He will have four hands. He will be exceedingly liberal, and will honour the Brahmanas greatly. Identical with Brahma, he will like and love the Brahmanas, and the Brahmanas will like and love him, that scion of Yadu's race will liberate many kings immured in the prison of the ruler of the Magadhas, after vanquishing that ruler named Jarasandha in his capital buried among mountains. Endued with great energy, he will be rich with the jewels and gems of all the rulers of the earth. Indeed, in energy he will be unrivalled on earth, possessed of great prowess, he will be the king of all kings of the earth. Foremost among all the Surasenas, the puissant one, residing at Dwaraka, will rule and protect the whole earth after vanquishing all her lords, conversant as he will be with the science of polity. Assembling together, do ye all adore Him, as ye adore the Eternal Brahman, with speech, floral wreaths, and excellent incense and perfumes. He who wishes to see me or the Grandsire Brahma should first see the illustrious Vasudeva of great puissance. If He is seen I am seen, as also the Grandsire Brahman, that foremost of all the gods. In this I do not deem there is any difference. Know this, ye Rishis of ascetic wealth! That person with whom the lotus-eyed Vasudeva becomes gratified, all the deities with Brahma amongst them will also become gratified with. That man who will seek the protection of Kesava will succeed in earning great achievements and victory and Heaven. He will be an instructor in religion and duties, and will earn great religious merit. All persons conversant with religion and duties should, with great alacrity, bow down unto that Lord of all the gods. By adoring that puissant one, one will acquire great merit. Endued with great energy, that god, with the desire of benefiting all creatures, created millions of Rishis for the sake of righteousness. Those millions of Rishis, thus created by that great Ordainer are now residing on the mountains of Gandhamadana, headed by Sanatkumara and engaged in the observance of penances. Hence, ye foremost of regenerate ones, that foremost of all eloquent persons, the righteous Vasudeva should be adored by all. The illustrious Hari, the puissant Narayana, is verily, the foremost of all beings in Heaven. Adored, he adores, and honoured he honours; unto them that make offerings to him, he makes offerings in return. Worshipped, he worships in return, if seen always, he sees the seers always. If one seeks His refuge and protection, He seeks the seeker as his refuge in return. Ye foremost of all righteous ones, if adored and worshipped, He adores and worships in return. Even this is the high practice of the faultless Vishnu. Even this is the vow that is practised by all righteous people, of that first of all deities, that puissant Lord of all creatures. He is always worshipped in the world. Verily, that Eternal Being is worshipped by even the deities. Those persons that are devoted to Him with the steadiness of a vow become liberated from calamity and fear in proportion to his devotion. The regenerate ones should always worship Him in thought, word, and deed. The son of Devaki should be seen by them with reverence and in order to see Him with reverence they should address themselves to the performance of penances. Ye foremost of ascetics, even this is the path that I show unto you. By beholding Him, ye will have behold all the foremost of deities. I too bow my head in reverence unto that Lord of the universe, that Grandsire of all the worlds, that mighty and vast boar. By beholding Him one beholds the Trinity. Ourselves, i.e., all the deities, reside in Him. He will have an elder brother who will become known over all the world as Vala. Having a plough for his weapon, in form he will look like a white hill. In fact, he will be endued with might capable of uplifting the whole earth. Upon the car of that divine person a tall palmyra, three-headed and made of gold, will form his proud standard. The head of that mighty-armed hero, that Lord of all the worlds, will be shaded by many high-souled snakes of vast bodies. All weapons of attack and defence will also come to him as soon as he will think of them. He is called Ananta (Infinite). Verily, that illustrious one is identical with the immutable Hari. Once on a time the mighty Garuda, the son of Kasyapa, was addressed by the deities in these words, 'Do thou, O puissant one, see if this one has any end!' Though possessed of great energy and might, Garuda, however, failed to find out the end of this illustrious one who is identical with the Supreme Soul. Supporting the whole earth on his head, he resides in the nether regions. He roves through the universe as Sesha, filled with great joy. He is Vishnu. He is the illustrious Ananta. He is the supporter of the earth. He that is Rama is Hrishikesa. He that is Achyuta is Ananta, the bearer of the earth. Both of those foremost of all creatures are celestial and endued with celestial prowess. One of them is armed with the discus and the other with the plough. They deserve every honour and should be seen. I have, through my kindness for you, have thus declared to you the nature of Vasudeva. Even this, ye ascetics possessed of wealth of penances, is Righteousness. I have declared all this to you so that ye may, with reverence and care, worship Krishna, that foremost one of Yadu's race."'"'" SECTION CXLVIII "'"Narada said, 'At the conclusion of Mahadeva's speech, loud roars were heard in the firmament. Thunders bellowed, with flashes of lightening. The welkin was enveloped with blue and thick clouds. The deity of the clouds then poured pure water like to what he does in the season of rains. A thick darkness set in. The points of the compass could no longer be distinguished. Then on that delightful, sacred, and eternal breast of that celestial mountain, the assembled Rishis no longer saw the multitude of ghostly beings that associate with Mahadeva. Soon, however, the welkin cleared. Some of the Rishis set out for the sacred waters. Others returned whence they came. Verily, beholding that wonderful and inconceivable sight, they became filled with amazement. The discourse too between Sankara and Uma had been heard by them with the feelings, "That foremost of all Beings, of whom the high-souled Sankara spoke to us on that mountain, art Thou. Verily, thou art identical with Eternal Brahma. Some time also Mahadeva burnt Himavat with his energy. Thou too hast shown us a similar sight of wonder. Indeed, we have been put in remembrance of that fact by what we have witnessed today." O mighty-armed Janardana, I have thus, O puissant one, recited to thee the glory of that god of gods, viz., him that is called Kapardin or Girisa!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by those denizens of ascetic retreats, Krishna, the delighter of Devaki paid due honours unto all those Rishis. Filled with delight, those Rishis once more addressed Krishna, saying, 'O slayer of Madhu, do Thou repeatedly show Thyself to us at all times! O puissant one, Heaven itself cannot rejoice us so much as a right of Thyself. Everything that was said by the illustrious Bhava (regarding Thyself) is true. O crusher of foes, we have told Thee all about that mystery. Thou art Thyself conversant with the truth of every topic. Since, however, asked by us, it pleased Thee to ask us in return, we have, for that reason, recited everything (about the discourse of Bhava with Uma) to Thee for only pleasing Thee. There is nothing in the three worlds that is unknown to Thee. Thou art fully conversant with the birth and origin of all things, indeed, with everything that operates as a cause (for the production of other objects). In consequence of the lightness of our character, we are unable to bear (within ourselves the knowledge of) any mystery (without disclosing it).[583] Indeed, in Thy presence, O puissant one, we indulge in incoherences from the lightness of our hearts. There is no wonderful thing that is unknown to Thee! Whatever is on earth, and whatever is in heaven, all is known to Thee! We take our leave of Thee, O Krishna, for returning to our respective abodes. Mayst Thou increase in intelligence and prosperity! O sire, Thou wilt soon get a son like unto Thee or even more distinguished than Thyself. He will be endued with great energy and splendour. He will achieve great feats, and become possessed of puissance as great as Thine!'"[584] "'Bhishma continued, "After this, the great Rishis bowed unto that god of gods, that scion of Yadu's race, that foremost of all Beings. They then circumambulated Him and taking His leave, departed. As regards Narayana, who is endued with prosperity and blazing effulgence, He returned to Dwaraka after having duly observed that vow of His. His spouse Rukmini conceived, and on the expiration of the tenth month a son was born of her, possessed of heroism and honoured by all for his highly wonderful accomplishments. He is identical with that Kama (Desire) which exists in every creature and which pervades every existent condition. Indeed, he moves within the hearts of both gods and Asuras. This Krishna is that foremost of all persons. Even he, endued with the hue of the clouds is that four-handed Vasudeva. Through affection He has attached himself to the Pandavas, and you also, ye sons of Pandu, have attached yourselves to Him. Achievements, Prosperity, Intelligence, and the path that leads to heaven, are all there where this one, viz., the illustrious Vishnu of three steps, is. He is the three and thirty gods with Indra at their head. There is no doubt in this. He is the one Ancient God. He is the foremost of all gods. He is the refuge of all creatures. He is without beginning and without destruction. He is unmanifest. He is the high-souled slayer of Madhu. Endued with mighty energy, He has taken birth (among men) for accomplishing the purpose of the gods. Verily, this Madhava is the expounder of the most difficult truths relating to Profit or Wealth, and he is also their achiever. O son of Pritha, the victory thou hast obtained over thy enemies, thy unrivalled achievements, the dominion thou hast acquired over the whole earth, are all due to thy side having been taken up by Narayana. The fact of thy having got the inconceivable Narayana for thy protector and refuge, enabled thee to become an Adharyu (chief sacrificer) for pouring multitudes of kings as libations on the blazing fire of battle. This Krishna was thy great sacrificial ladle resembling the all-destroying fire that appears at the end of the Yuga. Duryodhana, with his sons, brothers and kinsmen, was much to be pitied inasmuch as, moved by wrath, he made war with Hari and the wielder of Gandiva. Many sons of Diti, many foremost of Danavas, of huge bodies and vast strength, have perished in the fire of Krishna's discus like insects in a forest conflagration. How incapable then must human beings be of battling against that Krishna,--human beings who, O tiger among men, are destitute of strength and might! As regards Jaya, he is a mighty Yogin resembling the all-destroying Yuga-fire in energy. Capable of drawing the bow equally with both hands, he is always in the van of fight. With his energy, O king, he has slain all the troops of Suyodhana. Listen to me as I tell thee what Mahadeva having the bovine bull for the device on his standard had recited unto the ascetics on the breast of the Himavat. His utterances constitute a Purana. The advancement of greatness, energy, strength, prowess, puissance, humility, and lineage that are in Arjuna can come up to only a third part of the measure in which those attributes reside in Krishna. Who is there that can transcend Krishna in these attributes? Whether that is possible or not, listen (and judge). There where the illustrious Krishna is, there is unrivalled Excellence.[585] As regards ourselves, we are persons of little understanding. Dependent upon the will of others, we are exceedingly unfortunate. Knowingly we betook ourselves to the eternal path of death. Thou, however, art devoted to sincerity of conduct. Having formerly pledged thyself against taking thy kingdom, thou didst not take it, desirous of maintaining thy pledge.[586] O king, thou makest too much of the slaughter of thy kinsmen and friends in battle (brought about, as thou believest, by thyself). Thou shouldst remember, however, O chastiser of foes, that it is not right to violate a pledge.[587] All those who have fallen on the field of battle have really been slain by Time. Verily, all of us have been slain by Time. Time is, indeed, all-powerful. Thou art fully conversant with the puissance of Time. Afflicted by Time, it does not behove thee to grieve. Know that Krishna Himself, otherwise called Hari, is that Time with blood-red eyes and with club in hand. For these reasons, O son of Kunti, it does not behove thee to grieve for thy (slain) kinsfolk. Be thou always free, O delighter of the Kurus, from grief. Thou hast heard of the glory and greatness of Madhava as recited by me. That is sufficient for enabling a good man to understand Him. Having heard the words of Vyasa as also of Narada endued with great intelligence, I have discoursed to thee on the adorableness of Krishna. I have myself added, from my own knowledge, something to that discourse. Verily, I have discoursed also on the surpassing puissance of Krishna as recited by Mahadeva, unto that conclave of Rishis (on the breast of the Himavat). The discourse too between Maheswara and the daughter of Himavat, O Bharata, has been recited by me to thee. He who will bear in mind that discourse when emanating from a foremost person, he who will listen to it, and he who will recite it (for other people's hearing), is sure to win what is highly beneficial. That man will find all his wishes fulfilled. Departing from this world he will ascend to Heaven. There is no doubt in this. That man who, desirous of obtaining what is beneficial for himself, should devote himself to Janardana. O king of the Kurus, it behoves thee also to always bear in mind those incidents of duty and righteousness which were declared by Maheswara. If thou conduct thyself according to those precepts, if thou bear the rod of chastisement rightly, if thou protect thy subjects properly, thou mayst be sure of attaining to heaven. It behoves thee, O king, to protect thy subjects always according to the dictates of righteousness. The stout rod of chastisement which the king bears has been said to be the embodiment of his righteousness or merit.[588] Hearing this discourse, fraught with righteousness, between Sankara and Uma, that I have recited in the presence of this righteous conclave, one should worship with reverence that god having the bovine bull for the device on his banner. One that becomes even desirous of listening to that discourse should worship Mahadeva with reverence. Verily, the person that wishes to obtain what is beneficial for him, should adore Mahadeva with a pure heart. Even this is the command of the faultless and high-souled Narada. Even he has commanded such worship of the great god, O son of Pandu, do thou obey that command of Narada. O puissant king, even these are the wonderful incidents that occurred on the sacred breast of the Himavat respecting Vasudeva and Sthanu, O son of Kunti. Those occurrences flowed from the very nature of those high-souled deities. Vasudeva, accompanied by the wielder of Gandiva, practised eternal penances in the retreat of Vadari for ten thousand years.[589] Verily, Vasudeva and Dhananjaya, both of eyes like lotus-petals, underwent severe austerities for the duration of three whole Yugas. I have learnt this from Narada and Vyasa, O king. The lotus-eyed and mighty-armed Vasudeva, while yet a child (in human form) achieved the great feat of slaying Kansa for the relief of his kinsmen. I do not venture, O son of Kunti, to enumerate the feats of this Ancient and Eternal Being, O Yudhishthira. Without doubt, O son, high and great benefits will be reaped by thee who ownest that foremost of all persons, viz., Vasudeva, for thy friend. I grieve for the wicked Duryodhana in respect of even the next world to which he has gone. It was for him that the whole earth has been depopulated with her steeds and elephants. Indeed, through the fault of Duryodhana, of Karna, of Sakuni, and of Duhsasana numbering the fourth, that the Kurus have perished." "Vaisampayana continued, 'While that foremost of men, viz., the son of Ganga, addressed him in this strain, the Kuru king (Yudhishthira) remained entirely silent in the midst of those high-souled persons (who had assembled together for listening to the discourses of Bhishma). All the kings with Dhritarashtra amongst them became filled with wonder upon hearing the words of the Kuru grandsire. In their minds they worshipped Krishna and then turned towards him with hands joined in reverence. The Rishis also with Narada at their head, accepted and applauded the words of Bhishma and approved of them joyfully. These were the wonderful discourses recited by Bhishma which Pandu's son (Yudhishthira) with all his brothers heard with joy. Some time after, when king (Yudhishthira) saw that Ganga's son who had given away abundant wealth as presents unto the Brahmanas in the sacrifices performed by him, had rested and become refreshed, the intelligent king once more asked him as follows.'" SECTION CXLIX "Vaisampayana said, 'Having heard all the duties in their entirety and all those sacred acts and objects that cleanse human beings of their sins, Yudhishthira once more addressed the son of Santanu in the following words.' "'Yudhishthira said, "Who may be said to be the one god in the world? Who may be said to be the one object which is our sole refuge? Who is he by worshipping whom or hymning whose praises human being would get what is beneficial? What religion is that which, according to thy judgment, is the foremost of all religions? What are those Mantras by reciting which a living creature becomes freed from the bonds of birth and life?" "'Bhishma said, "One should always, with alacrity and throwing away all languor, hymn the praises of that Lord of the universe, that god of gods (viz., Vasudeva), who is Infinite and the foremost of all Beings, by uttering His thousand names. By always worshipping with reverence and devotion that immutable Being, by meditating on him, by hymning His praises and bowing the head unto Him, and by performing sacrifices unto Him, indeed by always praising Vishnu, who is without beginning and without end or destruction, who is the Supreme Lord of all the worlds, and who is the Master and Controller of the universe, one can succeed in transcending all sorrow. Verily, He is devoted to the Brahmanas, conversant with all duties and practices, the enhancer of the fame and achievement of all persons, the master of all the worlds, exceedingly wonderful, and the prime cause of the origin of all creatures. Even this, in my judgment, is the foremost religion of all religions, viz., one should always worship and hymn the praises of the lotus-eyed Vasudeva with devotion. He is the highest Energy. He is the highest Penance. He is the highest Brahma. He is the highest refuge. He is the most holy of all holies, the most auspicious of all auspicious objects. He is the god of all the gods and He is the immutable father of all creatures. On the advent of the primal Yuga, all creatures spring from Him. On the expiration, again of a Yuga, all things disappear in Him.[590] Hear, O king, the thousand names, possessed of great efficacy in destroying sins, of that foremost one in all the worlds that Master of the universe, viz., Vishnu. All those names derived from His attributes, secret and well-known, of the high-souled Vasudeva which were sung by Rishis, I shall recite to thee for the good of all. They are, Om! He that enters all things, besides Himself, He that covers all things, He unto whom sacrificial libations are poured, the Lord of the Past, the Present, and the Future, the Creator (or Destroyer) of all existent things, the upholder of all existent things, the Existent, the Soul of all, the Originator of all things (I--IX); of cleansed Soul, the Supreme Soul, the highest Refuge of all emancipated persons, the Immutable, He that lies enclosed in a case, the Witness, He that knows the material case in which He resides, the Indestructible (X--XVII);[591] He upon whom the mind rests during Yoga-abstraction, the Guide or leader of all persons conversant with Yoga, the Lord of both Pradhana (or Prakriti) and Purusha. He that assumed a human form with a leonine head, He of handsome features and equipments, He of beautiful hair, the foremost of Purushas (XVIII--XXIV);[592] the embodiment of all things, the Destroyer of all things, He that transcends the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas and Tamas, the Motionless, the Beginning of all things, the Receptacle into which all things sink at the universal Dissolution, the Immutable, He who takes birth at his own will, He who causes the acts of all living creatures to fructify (in the form of weal or woe), the Upholder of all things, the Source from which the primal elements have sprung, the Puissant One, He in whom is the unbounded Lordship over all things (XXV--XXXVII);[593] the Self-born, He that gives happiness to His worshippers, the presiding Genius (of golden form) in the midst of the Solar disc, the Lotus-eyed, Loud-voiced, He that is without beginning and without end. He that upholds the universe (in the form of Ananta and others), He that ordains all acts and their fruits, He that is superior to the Grandsire Brahma (XXXVIII--XLVI);[594] the Immeasurable, the Lord of the senses (or He that has curled locks), He from whose navel the primeval lotus sprang, the Lord of all the deities, the Artificer of the universe, the Mantra, He that weakens or emaciates all things, He that is vast, the Ancient one, He that is enduring (XLVII--LVI).[595] He that is incapable of being seized (by either the senses or the mind), the Eternal One, Krishna, the Red-eyed, He that kills all creatures at the time of the universal dissolution, He that is vast for knowledge and puissance and other attributes of the kind, He that resides in three parts (above, middle, and below) of every creature. That which cleanses, is auspicious, and high (LVII--LXIV).[596] He that urges all creatures in respect of all their acts. He that causes the life-breaths to act. He that causes all living creatures to live, the Eldest, the Foremost of all those that are regarded as the Lords of all creatures, He that has gold in his abdomen, He that has the Earth for his abdomen, the Lord of Sri or Lakshmi, the Slayer of Madhu (LXV--LXXII)[597]: the Omnipotent, He that is endued with great prowess, He that is armed with the bow, He that is Possessed of a mind capable of bearing the contents of all treatises, He that roves through the universe, riding on Garuda. He that is well suited to the offerings made unto Him and that has the power to enjoy them properly, the Unrivalled, He that is incapable of being discomfited, He that knows all acts that are done, He that is identical with all acts, He that rests on His own true self (LXXIV--LXXXIV)[598], the Lord of all the deities, He that is the Refuge of all, the embodiment of the highest felicity, He whose seed is the universe, He that is the source of all things, the day (in consequence of His awakening Jiva who is steeped in the sleep of Nescience), the Year, the Snake (owing to His being incapable of being seized), the embodiment of Conviction, He that sees all things (LXXXV--XCIV):[599] the Unborn, the Lord of all creatures, He that has achieved success, He that is Success itself, He that is the beginning of all things (in consequence of His being the cause of all things), He that is above deterioration, He that is Righteousness in the form of the bovine bull and the great boar that raised the submerged Earth, He that is of immeasurable soul, He that stands aloof from all kinds of union (XCV--CIII);[600] He that is Pauaka among the deities called Vasus (or, He that dwells in His worshippers). He that is liberal soul, being freed from wrath and hatred and pride and other evil passions. Truth whose soul is equable in consequence of His thorough impartiality, He that has been measured by His worshippers, He that is always equal, being above all change or modification, He that never refuses to grant the wishes of His worshippers, He whose eyes are like the petals of the lotus, He whose acts are always characterised by Righteousness (or He who is always engaged in granting the wishes of those that are devoted to Him), He that is of the form of Righteousness (CIV--CXIII); He that destroys all creatures (or their pains), the Many headed, He that upholds the universe, He that is the source of the universe, He who is of pure or spotless fame, the Immortal One, He that is Eternal and Fixed, He that is possessed of beautiful limbs, (or, He the ascension unto whom is the best of all acts), He who has such knowledge having penance for its indication (CXIV--CXXII); He that goes everywhere (in the sense of pervading all things as their cause), the Omniscient One, He that blazes forth in unmodified effulgence, He whose troops are everywhere (in the form of devoted associates), (or He at whose very sight the Danava troops are scattered in all directions). He that is coveted (or sought) by all (or, He that grinds all His foes), He that is the Veda, He that is conversant with the Veda, He that is conversant with all the limbs (or branches) of the Veda, He that represents the limbs (or branches) of the Veda (i.e., all the subsidiary sciences), He that settles the interpretations of the Vedas, He that has no superior in wisdom (CXXIII--CXXXIII); He that is the master of all the worlds, He that is the master of the deities, He that is the Supervisor of both Righteousness and Unrighteousness (for giving the fruits thereof to those that seek the one or the other), He that is both Effect and Cause, (or, He whose life has not been determined by acts achieved on any previous occasion in consequence of His transcending Prakriti). He that is four-souled (in consequence of His four forms of Aniruddha, Pradyumna, Sankarshana and Vasudeva). He that is known by four forms (as above), He that has four horns (which appeared on Him when He had assumed a human form with a lion's head for slaying the Asura chief Hiranya-Kasipu), He that has four arms (for holding the conch, discus, mace, and lotus) (CXXXIV--CXLI); He that blazes forth in effulgence, He that is the giver of food and cherishes those that are good; He that does not bear or put up with those that are wicked, (or, He that puts up with the occasional transgressions of his devotees); He that existed before the universe started into life; He that is stainless; He that is ever victorious; He that vanquishes the very deities; He that is the material cause of the universe; He that repeatedly resides in material causes (CXLII--CL); He that is the younger brother of Indra, (or He that transcends Indra in accomplishments and attributes). He that took birth as a dwarf (from Aditi by her husband Kasyapa in order to beguile the Asura king Vali of the sovereignty of the three worlds, and bestow the same upon Indra who had been dispossessed of it), He that is tall (in allusion to the vast universal form of His which He assumed at the sacrifice of Vali for covering Heaven, Earth, and the Nether regions with three steps of His). He whose acts are never futile, He that cleanses (those that worship Him, those that hear of Him and those that think of Him), He that is endued with pre-eminent energy and strength, He that transcends Indra in all attributes, He that accepts all His worshippers, He that is the Creation itself in consequence of His being the Causes thereof, He that upholds His self in the same form without being ever subject to birth, growth, or death, He that sustains all creatures in their respective functions in the universe, He that controls the hearts of all creatures (CLI--CLXII); He that deserves to be known by those who wish to achieve what is for their highest good; He who is the celestial physician in the form of Dhanwantari, (or He who cures that foremost of all diseases, viz., the bonds that bind one to the world); He that is always engaged in Yoga; He that slays great Asuras for establishing Righteousness; He that is the Lord of that Lakshmi who sprang from the ocean when it was churned by the deities and the Asuras, (or, He that cherishes both the goddesses of prosperity and learning); He that is honey (in consequence of the pleasure He gives to those that succeed in having a taste of him); He that transcends the senses (or is invisible to those that turn away from Him); He that is possessed of great powers of illusion (manifested in His beguiling Mahadeva and the deities on many occasions); He that puts forth great energy (in achieving mighty feats); He that transcends all in might (CLXIII--CLXXII); He that transcends all in intelligence; He that transcends all in puissance; He that transcends all in ability; He that discovers the universe by the effulgence emanating from his body; He whose body is incapable of being ascertained by the eye (or any other sense organ of knowledge); He that is possessed of every beauty; He whose soul is incapable of being comprehended by either deities or men; He that held on his back, in the form of the vast tortoise, the huge mountain, Mandara, which was made the churning staff by the deities and the Asuras when they set themselves to churn the great ocean for obtaining therefrom all the valuables hid in its bosom; (or, He who held up the mountains of Govardhana in the woods of Brinda for protecting the denizens of that delightful place, who were especial objects of His kindness, from the wrath of Indra who poured incessant showers for days together with a view to drowning every thing) (CLXXIII--CLXXX); He that can shoot His shafts to a great distance, piercing through obstruction of every kind; He that raised the submerged Earth, having assumed the form of the mighty Boar; He on whose bosom dwells the goddess of Prosperity; (or He that is identical with Kama, the lord of Rati); He that is the Refuge of those that are righteous; He that is incapable of being won without thorough devotion; (or, He that is incapable of being immured or restrained by any one putting forth his powers); He that is the delight of the deities, or, He that is the embodiment of fullness of joy; He that rescued the submerged Earth; (or He that understands the hymns addressed to him by His devotees); He that is the Master of all eloquent persons (or He that dispels the calamities of all those who know him) (CLXXXI--CLXXXVIII); He that is full of blazing effulgence; He that suppressed the afflictions of His adorers; (or, He that assumes the form of Yama, the universal Destroyer, for chastising all persons that fall away from their duties); He that assumed the form of a Swan for communicating the Vedas to the Grandsire Brahman; (or, He that enters into the bodies of all persons); He that has Garuda, the prince of the feathery denizens of the welkin, for His vehicle; He that is the foremost of snakes in consequence of His identity with Sesha or Ananta who upholds on his head the vast Earth, (or, He that has the hood of the prince of snakes for His bed while He lies down to sleep on the vast expansion of water after the dissolution of the universe); He whose navel is as beautiful as gold; He that underwent the severest austerities in the form of Narayana at Vadari on the breast of Himavat; He whose navel resembles a lotus; (or, He from whose navel sprang the primeval lotus in which the Grandsire Brahma was born); He that is the Lord of all creatures (CLXXXIX--CXCVII); He that transcends death; (or, He that wards off Death from those that are devoted to him); He that always casts a kind eye on His worshippers; (or, He that sees all things in the universe); He that destroys all things; (or, He that drenches with nectar all those that worship Him with single-minded devotion); He that is the Ordainer of all ordainers; (or, He that unites all persons with the consequences of their acts); He that himself enjoys and endures the fruits of all acts, (or, He that assumed the form of Rama, the son of Dasaratha, and going into exile at the command of His sire made a treaty with Sugriva the chief of the Apes for aiding him in the recovery of his kingdom from the grasp of his elder brother Vali in return for the assistance which Sugriva promised Him for recovering from Ravana His wife Sita who had been ravished by that Rakshasa and borne away to his island home in Lanka), He that is always of the same form; (or, He that is exceedingly affectionate unto His worshippers); He that is always moving; (or, He that is of the form of Kama who springs up in the heart of every creature); He that is incapable of being endured by Danavas and Asuras (or, He that rescued His wife Sita after slaying Ravana, or, He that shows compassion towards even Chandalas and members of other low castes when they approach Him with devotion, in allusion to His friendship, in the form of Rama, for Guhaka the chief of the Chandalas, inhabiting the country known by the name of Sringaverapura); He that chastises the wicked; (or, He that regulates the conduct of all persons by the dictates of the Srutis and the Smritis); He whose soul has true knowledge for its indication; (or, He that destroyed Ravana, the foe of the gods, having assumed the form of Rama that was full of compassion and other amiable virtues); He that destroys the foes of the deities (or, He that slays those who obstruct or forbid the giving of presents unto deserving persons) (CXCVIII--CCVIII); He that is the instructor in all sciences and the father of all; He that is the instructor of even the Grandsire Brahma; He that is the abode or resting place of all creatures; He that is the benefactor of those that are good and is free from the stain of falsehood; He whose prowess is incapable of being baffled; He that never casts his eye on such acts as are not sanctioned or approved by the scriptures; He that casts his eye on such acts as are sanctioned or approved by the scriptures; (or, He whose eye never winks or sleeps); He that wears the unfading garland of victory called by the name of Vaijayanti; He that is the Lord of speech and that is possessed of great liberality insomuch that He rescued the lowest of the low and the vilest of the vile by granting them His grace (CCIX--CCXVIII); He that leads persons desirous of Emancipation to the foremost of all conditions, viz., Emancipation itself; (or, He that assumes the form of a mighty Fish and scudding through the vast expanse of waters that cover the Earth when the universal dissolution comes, and dragging the boat tied to His horns, leads Manu and others to safety); He that is the leader of all creatures; (or, He that sports in the vast expanse of waters which overwhelm all things at the universal dissolution); He whose words are the Veda and who rescued the Vedas when they were submerged in the waters at the universal dissolution; He that is the accomplisher of all functions in the universe; He that assumes the form of the wind for making all living creatures act or exert themselves; (or, He whose motions are always beautiful, or, who wishes His creatures to glorify Him); He that is endued with a thousand heads; He that is the Soul of the universe and as such pervades all things; He that has a thousand eyes and a thousand legs; (CCXIX--CCXXVI); He that causes the wheel of the universe to revolve at His will; He whose soul is freed from desire and who transcends those conditions that invest Jiva and to which Jiva is liable; He that is concealed from the view of all persons that are attached to the world; (or, He that has covered the eyes of all persons with the bandage of nescience); He that grinds those that turn away from him; He that sets the days a-going in consequence of His being identical with the Sun; He that is the destroyer of all-destroying Time itself; He that conveys the libations poured on the sacred fire unto those for whom they are intended; (or, He that bears the universe, placing it on only a minute fraction of His body); He that has no beginning; (or, He that has no fixed habitation); He that upholds the Earth in space (in the form of Sesha, or, rescues her in the form of the mighty boar or supports her as a subtil pervader) (CCXXVII--CCXXXV); He that is exceedingly inclined to grace, insomuch that He grants happiness to even foes like Sisupala; He that has been freed from the attributes of Rajas (passion) and Tamas (darkness) so that He is pure or stainless Sattwa by itself; (or, He that has obtained the fruition of all His wishes); He that supports the universe; He that feeds (or enjoys the universe); He that is displayed in infinite puissance; He that honours the deities, the Pitris, and His own worshippers; He that is honoured or adored by those that are themselves honoured or adored by others; (or, He whose acts are all beautiful and enduring); He that accomplishes the purposes of others; (or, He that is the benefactor of others); He that withdraws all things unto Himself at the universal dissolution; (or, He that destroys the foes of the deities or of His worshippers); He that has the waters for his home; (or, He that is the sole Refuge of all creatures or He that destroys the ignorance of all creatures) (CCXXXVI--CCXLVI); He that is distinguished above all, He that cherishes the righteous, He that cleanses all the worlds, He that crowns with fruition the desires of all creatures, He whose wishes are always crowned with fruition, He that gives success to all, He that bestows success upon those that solicit Him for it (CCXLVII--CCLVI); He that presides over all sacred days; (or, He that overwhelms Indra himself with His own excellent attributes), He that showers all objects of desire upon His worshippers, He that walks over all the universe, He that offers the excellent flight of steps constituted by Righteousness (unto those that desire to ascend to the highest place); He that has Righteousness in His abdomen; (or, He that protects Indra even as a mother protects the child in her womb); He that aggrandises (His worshippers), He that spreads Himself out for becoming the vast universe, He that is aloof from all things (though pervading them); He that is the receptacle of the ocean of Srutis (CCLVII--CCLXIV); He that is possessed of excellent arms (i.e., arms capable of upholding the universe); He that is incapable of being borne by any creature, He from whom flowed the sounds called Brahman (or Veda), He that is the Lord of all Lords of the universe, He that is the giver of wealth, He that dwells in His own puissance, He that is multiform, He that is of vast form, He that resides in the form of Sacrifice in all animals, He that causes all things to be displayed (CCLXV--CCLXXIV), He that is endued with great might, energy, and splendour; He that displays Himself in visible forms to His worshippers, He that scorches the unrighteous with His burning energy, He that is enriched with the sixfold attributes (of affluence, etc.), He that imparted the Veda to the Grandsire Brahma, He that is of the form of the Samans, Riks, and Yajuses (of the Veda); He that soothes His worshippers burning with the afflictions of the world like the rays of the moon cooling all living creatures of the world, He that is endued with blazing effulgence like the sun (CCLXXV--CCLXXXII); He from whose mind has sprung the moon, He that blazes forth in His own effulgence, He that nourishes all creatures even like the luminary marked by the hare, He that is the Master of the deities, He that is the great medicine for the disease of worldly attachment, He that is the great causeway of the universe, He that is endued with knowledge and other attributes that are never futile and with prowess that is incapable of being baffled (CCLXXXIII--CCLXXXIX); He that is solicited by all creatures at all times, viz., the Past, the Present, and the Future; He that rescues his worshippers by casting kind glances upon them, He that sanctifies even them that are sacred; He that merges the life-breath in the Soul; (or, He that assumes diverse forms for protecting both the Emancipated and the Unemancipated); He that kills the desires of those that are Emancipated; (or, He that prevents evil desires from arising in the minds of His worshippers); He that is the sire of Kama (the principle of desire or lust); He that is most agreeable, He that is desired by all creatures, He that grants the fruition of all desires, He that has the ability to accomplishing all acts (CCXC--CCXCIX); He that sets the four Yugas to begin their course; He that causes the Yugas to continually revolve as on a wheel, He that is endued with the diverse kinds of illusion (and, therefore, the cause from which spring the different kinds of acts that distinguish the different Yugas); He that is the greatest of eaters (in consequence of His swallowing all things at the end of every Kalpa); He that is incapable of being seized (by those that are not His worshippers); He that is manifest (being exceedingly vast); He that subjugates thousands of foes (of the deities); He that subjugates innumerable foes (CCC--CCCVIII); He that is desired (by even the Grandsire and Rudra, or He that is adored in sacrifices); He that is distinguished above all; He that is desired by those that are endued with wisdom and righteousness; He that has an ornament of (peacock's) feathers on His headgear; He that stupefies all creatures with His illusion; He that showers His grace on all His worshippers; He that kills the wrath of the righteous; He that fills the unrighteous with wrath; He that is the accomplisher of all acts; He who holds the universe on his arms; He that upholds the Earth (CCCIX--CCCXVIII); He that transcends the six well-known modifications (of inception, birth or appearance, growth, maturity, decline, and dissolution); He that is endued with great celebrity (in consequence of His feats); He that causes all living creatures to live (in consequence of His being the all-pervading soul); He that gives life; the younger brother of Vasava (in the form of Upendra or the dwarf); He that is the receptacle of all the waters in the universe; He that covers all creatures (in consequence of His being the material cause of everything); He that is never heedless (being always above error); He that is established on His own glory (CCCXIX--CCCXXVII); He that flows in the form of nectar; (or, He that dries up all things); He upholds the path of righteousness; He that bears the burden of the universe; He that gives desirable boons unto those that solicit them: He that causes the winds to blow; He that is the son of Vasudeva; (or, He that covers the universe with His illusions and sports in the midst of it); He that is endued with extraordinary lustre; He that is the originating cause of the deities; He that pierces all hostile towns (CCCXXVIII--CCCXXXVI); He that transcends all sorrow and grief; He that leads us safely across the ocean of life or the world; He that dispels from the hearts of all His worshippers the fear of rebirth; He that is possessed of infinite courage and prowess; He that is an offspring of Sura's race; He that is the master of all living creatures; He that is inclined to show His grace unto all; He that has come on earth for a hundred times (for rescuing the good, destroying the wicked, and establishing righteousness); He that holds a lotus in one of his hands; He whose eyes resemble the petals of the lotus (CCCXXXVII--CCCXLVI); He from whose navel sprang the primeval lotus; (or, He that is seated upon a lotus); He that is endued with eyes resembling the petals of the lotus; He that is adored by even worshippers as one seated within the lotus of His hearts; He that assumed the form of embodied Jiva (through His own illusion); He that is endued with puissance of every kind; He that grows in the form of the five primal elements; the Ancient Soul; He that is endued with vast eyes; He that has Garuda sitting on the standard of His car (CCCXLVII--CCCLV); He that is incomparable; the Sarabha (the lion-killing animal); He that strikes the wicked with terror; He that knows everything that has occurred in Time; He that accepts, in the forms of the deities, the butter poured on the sacrificial fire; He that is known by all kinds of evidence or proof; He upon whose breast sits Prosperity always; He that is victorious in every battle (CCCLVI--CCCLXIV); He that is above destruction; He that assumes a red form; (or, becomes wrathful unto the enemies of His worshippers); He that is an object of search with the righteous; He that is at the root of all things; He that has the mark of the string around his abdomen (for Yasoda had bound Him with a cord while He was Krishna); He that bears or forgives all injuries; He that upholds the Earth in the form of her mountains; He that is the foremost of all objects of worship; He that is endued with great speed; He that swallows vast quantities of food (CCCLXV--CCCLXXIV); He that caused the creation to start into life; He that always agitates both Prakriti and Purusha; He that shines with resplendence; (or, sports in joy); He that has puissance in his stomach; He that is the Supreme Master of all; He that is the material out of which the universe has been made; He that is the cause or Agent who has made the universe: He that is independent of all things; He that ordains variety in the universe; He that is incapable of being comprehended; He that renders Himself invisible by the screen of illusion (CCCLXXV--CCCLXXXV); He that is Chit divested of all attributes; He on whom all things rest; He in whom all things reside when the universal dissolution comes; He that assigns the foremost place to those that worship Him; He that is durable; He that is endued with the highest puissance; He that has been glorified in the Vedanta; He that is contented; He that is always full; He whose glance is auspicious (CCCLXXXVI--CCCXCV); He that fills all Yogins with delight; He that is the end of all creatures (for it is in Him that all things merge at the universal dissolution); He that is the faultless Path; He that in the form of Jiva, leads to Emancipation; He that leads (Jiva to Emancipation); He that has none to lead Him; He that is endued with great might; He that is the foremost of all beings possessed of might; He that is the foremost of all Beings conversant with duty and religion (CCCXCVI--CDIV); He that joins, at the time of creation, the disunited elements for forming all objects; He that resides in all bodies; He that causes all creatures to act in the form of Kshetrajna; He that creates all creatures after destroying them at the universal dissolution; He unto whom every one bows with reverence; He that is extended over the entire universe; He that owns the primeval golden egg as his abdomen (whence, as from the female uterus), everything proceeds; He that destroys the foes of the deities; He that overspreads all things (being the material cause whence they spring); He that spreads sweet perfumes; He that disregards the pleasures of the senses (CDV--CDXV); He that is identifiable with the seasons; He at whose sight alone all worshippers succeed in obtaining the great object of their wish; He that weakens all creatures; He that dwells in the firmament of the heart, depending upon His own glory and puissance; He that is capable of being known everywhere (in consequence of His omnipresence); He that inspires everyone with dread; He in whom all creatures dwell; He that is clever in accomplishing all acts; He that constitutes the rest of all creatures (being, as He is, the embodiment of Emancipation); He that is endued with competence greater than that of other Beings (CDXVI--CDXXV); He in whom the whole Universe is spread out; He that is Himself immobile and in whom all things rest for ever; He that is an object of proof; He that is the Indestructible and unchanging seed; He that is sought by all (in consequence of His being happiness); He that has no desire (in consequence of all His desires having been gratified); He that is the great cause (which covers the universe): He that has all sorts of things to enjoy; He that has great wealth wherewith to secure all objects of desire (CDXXVI--CDXXXIV); He that is above despair; He that exists in the form of Renunciation; He that is without birth; He that is the stake unto which Righteousness is tethered; He that is the great embodiment of sacrifice; He who is the nave of the starry wheel that revolves in the firmament;[601] He that is the Moon among the constellations; He that is competent to achieve every feat; He that stays in His own soul when all things disappear; He that cherishes the desire for Creation (CDXXXV--CDXLIV); He that is the embodiment of all sacrifices; He that is adored in all sacrifices and religious rites; He that is the most adorable of the deities present in the sacrifices that men perform; He that is the embodiment of all such sacrifices in which animals are offered up according to the ordinance; He that is adored by persons before they take any food;[602] He that is the Refuge of those that seek emancipation; He that beholds the acts and omissions of all creatures; He whose soul transcends all attributes; He that is possessed of omniscience; He that is identical with knowledge that is unacquired, unlimited, and capable of accomplishing everything (CDXLV--CDLIV); He that is observant of excellent vows (chief amongst which is the granting of favour unto one that solicits it with a pure heart); He that has a face always full of delight; He that is exceedingly subtle; He that utters the most agreeable sounds (in the form of the Veda or as Krishna playing on the lute); He that gives happiness (to all His worshippers); He that does good to others without expecting any return; He that fills all creatures with delight; He that has subdued wrath; He that has mighty arms (so mighty that He has slain as if in sport the mightiest of Asuras); He that tears those that are unrighteous (CDLV--CDLXIV); He that causes those persons who are destitute of knowledge of the soul to be steeped in the deep sleep of His illusion; He that relies on Himself (being entirely independent of all persons and things); He that overspreads the entire universe; He that exists in infinite forms; He that is engaged in vocations infinite in number; He that lives in everything; He that is full of affection towards all His worshippers; He that is the universal father (all living creatures of the universe being as calves sprung from Him); He that holds, in the form of the vast Ocean, all jewels and gems in His abdomen, He that is the Lord of all treasures (CDLXV--CDLXXIV); He that is the protector of righteousness; He that accomplishes all the duties of righteousness; He that is the substratum of righteousness; He that is existent for all time; He that is non-existent (in the form of the universe, for the manifested universe is the result of illusion); He that is destructible (in the form of the universe); He that is indestructible as Chit; He that is, in the form of Jiva, destitute of true knowledge; He that is, in the form of the Sun, endued with a thousand rays; He that ordains (even all such great and mighty creatures as Sesha and Garuda, etc.); He that has created all the Sastras (CDLXXV--CDLXXXV); He that exists, in the form of the Sun, as the centre of innumerable rays of light; He that dwells in all creatures; He that is possessed of great prowess; He that is the Master of even Yama and others of similar puissance; He that is the oldest of the deities (existing as He does from the beginning); He that exists in His own glory, casting off all conditions; He that is the Lord of even all the deities; He that is the ruler of even him that upholds the deities (viz., Indra) (CDLXXXVI--CDXCIII); He that transcends birth and destruction; He that tended and protected kine (in the form of Krishna); He that nourishes all creatures; He that is approachable by knowledge alone; He that is Ancient; He that upholds the elements which constitute the body; He that enjoys and endures (weal and woe, in the form of Jiva); He that assumed the form of a vast Boar; (or, He that, in the form of Rama, was the Lord of a large monkey host); He that gave plentiful presents unto all in a grand sacrifice performed by Him (CDXCIV--DII); He that drinks Soma in every sacrifice; He that drinks nectar; He that, in the form of Soma (Chandramas), nourishes all the herbs and plants; He that conquers foes in a trice when even they are infinite in number; He that is of universal form and is the foremost of all existent entities; He that is the chastiser; He that is victorious over all; He whose purposes are incapable of being baffled; He that deserves gifts; He that gives what His creatures have not and who protects what they have (DIII--DXII); He that holds the life-breaths; He that beholds all His creatures as objects of direct vision; He that never beholds anything beside His own Self; He that gives emancipation; He whose footsteps (three in number) covered Heaven, Earth, and the Nether regions; He who is the receptacle of all the water; He that overwhelms all Space, all Time, and all things; He that lies on the vast expanse of waters after the universal dissolution; He that causes the destruction of all things (DXIII--DXXI); He that is without birth; He that is exceedingly adorable; He that appears in His own nature; He that has conquered all foes (in the form of wrath and other evil passions); He that delights those that meditate on Him; He that is joy; He that fills others with delight; He that swells with all causes of delight; He that has truth and other virtues for His indications; He whose foot steps are in the three worlds (DXXII--DXXX); He that is the first of the Rishis (being conversant with the entire Vedas); He that is identical with the preceptor Kapila; He that is the knower of the Universe; He that is Master of the Earth; He that has their feet; He that is the guardian of the deities; He that has large horns (in allusion to the piscatory form in which He saved Manu on the occasion of the universal deluge by scudding through the waters with Manu's boat tied to His horns); He that exhausts all acts by causing their doers to enjoy or endure their fruits; (or, He that grinds the Destroyer himself) (DXXXI--DXXXVIII); the great Boar: He that is understood or apprehended by the aid of the Vedanta; He that has beautiful troops (in the form of His worshippers); He that is adorned with golden armlets; He that is concealed (being knowledge with the aid of the Upanishads only); He that is deep (in knowledge and puissance); He that is difficult of access; He that transcends both word and thought, that is armed with the discus and the mace (DXXXIX--DXLVII); the Ordainer; He that is the cause (in the form of helper of the universe); He that has never been vanquished; He that is the Island-born Krishna; He that is enduring (in consequence of His transcending decay): He that mows all things and is Himself above deterioration; the Varuna (the deity of the waters); the son of Varuna (in the form of Vasishtha or Agastya); He that is immovable as a tree; He that is displayed in His own true form in the lotus of the heart; He that creates, preserves, and destroys by only a fiat of the mind (DXLVIII--DLVIII); He that is possessed of the sixfold attributes (of sovereignty etc.); He that destroys the sixfold attributes (at the universal dissolution); He that is felicity (in consequence of His swelling with all kinds of prosperity); He that is adorned with the triumphal garland (called Vaijayanta); He that is armed with the plough (in allusion to His incarnation as Valadeva); He that took birth from the womb of Aditi (in the form of the dwarf that beguiled Vali); He that is endued with effulgence like unto the Sun's; He that endures all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, pleasure and pain, etc.); He that is the foremost Refuge of all things (DLIX--DLXVII); He that is armed with the best of bows (called Saranga); He that was divested of His battle-axe (by Rama of Bhrigu's race);[603] He that is fierce; He that is the giver of all objects of desire; He that is so tall as to touch the very heavens with his head (in allusion to the form He assumed at Vali's sacrifice); He whose vision extends over the entire universe; He that is Vyasa (who distributed the Vedas); He that is the Master of speech or all learning; He that has started into existence without the intervention of genital organs (DLXVIII--DLXXVI); He that is hymned with the three (foremost) Samans; He that is the singer of the Samans; He that is the Extinction of all worldly attachments (in consequence of His being the embodiment of Renunciation); He that is the Medicine; He that is the Physician (who applies the medicine); He that has ordained the fourth or last mode of life called renunciation (for enabling His creatures to attain to emancipation); He that causes the passions of His worshippers to be quieted (with a view to give them tranquillity of soul); He that is contented (in consequence of His utter dissociation with all worldly objects); He that is the Refuge of devotion and tranquillity of Soul (DLXXVII--DLXXXV); He that is possessed of beautiful limbs; He that is the giver of tranquillity of soul; He that is Creator; He that sports in joy on the bosom of the earth; He that sleeps (in Yoga) lying on the body of the prince of snakes, Sesha, after the universal dissolution; the Benefactor of kine; (or, He that took a human form for relieving the earth of the weight of her population); the Master of the universe; the Protector of the universe; He that is endued with eyes like those of the bull; He that cherishes Righteousness with love (DLXXXVI--DXCV): He that is the unreturning hero; He whose soul has been withdrawn from all attachments; He that reduces to a subtle form the universe at the time of the universal dissolution; He that does good to His afflicted worshippers; He whose name, as soon as heard, cleanses the hearer of all his sins; He who has the auspicious whorl on His breast; He in whom dwells the goddess of Prosperity for ever; He who was chosen by Lakshmi (the goddess of Prosperity) as her Lord; He that is the foremost one of all Beings endued with prosperity (DXCVI--DCIV); He that give prosperity unto His worshippers; the Master of prosperity; He that always lives with those that are endued with prosperity; He that is the receptacle of all kinds of prosperity; He that gives prosperity unto all persons of righteous acts according to the measure of their righteousness; He that holds the goddess of Prosperity on his bosom; He that bestows prosperity upon those that hear of, praise, and mediate on Him; He that is the embodiment of that condition which represents the attainment of unattainable happiness; He that is possessed of every kind of beauty; He that is the Refuge of the three worlds (DCV--DCXIV); He that is possessed of beautiful eye; He that is possessed of beautiful limbs; He that is possessed of a hundred sources of delight; He that represents the highest delight; He that is the Master of all the luminaries in the firmament (for it is He that maintains them in their places and orbits); He that has subjugated His soul; He whose soul is not swayed by any superior Being; He that is always of beautiful acts; He whose doubts have all been dispelled (for He is said to behold the whole universe as an Amlaka in His palm) (DCXV--DCXXIII); He that transcends all creatures; He whose vision extends in all directions: He that has no Master; He that at all times transcends all changes; He that (in the form of Rama) had to lie down on that bare ground; He that adorns the earth (by His incarnations); He that is puissance's self; He that transcends all grief; He that dispels the griefs of all His worshippers as soon as they remember Him (DCXXIV--DCXXXII); He that is possessed of effulgence, He that is worshipped by all; He that is the water-pot (as all things reside within Him); He that is of pure soul; He that cleanses all as soon as they hear of him; He that is free and unrestrained; He whose car never turns away from battles; He that is possessed of great wealth; He whose prowess is incapable of being measured (DCXXXIII--DCXLI); He that is the slayer of the Asura named Kalanemi; He that is the Hero; He that has taken birth in the race of Sura; He that is the Lord of all the deities; the soul of the three worlds; the Master of the three worlds; He that has the solar and lunar rays for his hair; the slayer of Kesi; He that destroys all things (at the universal dissolution) (DCXLII--DCL); the Deity from whom the fruition of all desires is sought; He that grants the wishes of all; He that has desires; He that has a handsome form; He that is endued with thorough knowledge of Srutis and Smritis; He that is possessed of a form that is indescribable by attributes; He whose brightest rays overwhelm heaven; He that has no end; He that (in the form of Arjuna or Nara) acquired vast wealth on the occasion of his campaign of conquest (DCLI--DCLX); He who is the foremost object of silent recitation, of sacrifice, of the Vedas, and of all religious acts; He that is the creator of penances and the like; He that is the form of (the grandsire) Brahman, He that is the augmentor of penances; He that is conversant with Brahma; He that is of the form of Brahmana; He that has for His limbs Him that is called Brahma; He that knows all the Vedas and everything in the universe; He that is always fond of Brahmanas and of whom the Brahmanas also are fond (DCLXI--DCLXX); He whose footsteps cover vast areas; He whose feats are mighty; He who is possessed of vast energy; He that is identical with Vasuki, the king of the snakes; He that is the foremost of all sacrifices; He that is Japa, that first of sacrifices; He that is the foremost of all offerings made in sacrifices (DCLXXI--DCLXXVIII);[604] He that is hymned by all; He that loves to be hymned (by his worshippers); He that is himself the hymns uttered by His worshippers; He that is the very act of hymning; He that is the person that hymns; He that is fond of battling (with everything that is evil); He that is full in every respect; He that fills others with every kind of affluence; He that destroys all sins as soon as He is remembered; He whose acts are all righteous; He that transcends all kinds of disease (DCLXXIX--DCLXXXIX); He that is endued with the speed of the mind; He that is the creator and promulgator of all kinds of learning; He whose vital seed is gold; He that is giver of wealth (being identical with Kuvera the Lord of treasures); He that takes away all the wealth of the Asuras; the son of Vasudeva; He in whom all creatures dwell; He whose mind dwells in all things in thorough identity with them; He that takes away the sins of all who seek refuge in him (DCXC--DCXCVIII); He that is attainable by the righteous; He whose acts are always good; He that is the one entity in the universe; He that displays Himself in diverse forms; He that is the refuge of all those that are conversant with truth; He who has the greatest of heroes for his troops;[605] He that is the foremost of the Yadavas; He that is the abode of the righteous; He that sports in joy (in the woods of Brinda) on the banks of Yamuna (DCXCIX--DCCVII); He in whom all created things dwell; the deity that overwhelms the universe with His Maya (illusion); He in whom all foremost of Beings become merged (when they achieve their emancipation); He whose hunger is never gratified; He that humbles the pride of all; He that fills the righteous with just pride; He that swells with joy; He that is incapable of being seized; He that has never been vanquished (DCCVIII--DCCXVI); He that is of universal form; He that is of vast form; He whose form blazes forth with energy and effulgence; He that is without form (as determined by acts); He that is of diverse forms; (He that is unmanifest); He that is of a hundred forms; He that is of a hundred faces (DCCXVII--DCCXXIV); He that is one; He that is many (through illusion); He that is full of felicity; He that forms the one grand topic of investigation; He from whom is this all; He that is called THAT; He that is the highest Refuge; He that confines Jiva within material causes; He that is coveted by all; He that took birth in the race of Madhu; He that is exceedingly affectionate towards His worshippers (DCCXXV--DCCXXXV); He that is of golden complexion; He whose limbs are like gold (in hue); He that is possessed of beautiful limbs; He whose person is decked with Angadas made with sandal-paste; He that is the slayer of heroes; He that has no equal; He that is like cipher (in consequence of no attributes being affirmable of Him); He that stands in need of no blessings (in consequence of His fulness); He that never swerves from His own nature and puissance and knowledge; He that is mobile in the form of wind (DCCXXXVI--DCCXLV); He that never identifies Himself with anything that is not-soul;[606] He that confers honours on His worshippers; He that is honoured by all; He that is the Lord of the three worlds; He that upholds the three worlds; He that is possessed of intelligence and memory capable of holding in His mind the contents of all treatises; He that took birth in a sacrifice; He that is worthy of the highest praise; He whose intelligence and memory are never futile; He that upholds the earth (DCCXLVI--DCCLV); He that pours forth heat in the form of the Sun; He that is the bearer of great beauty of limbs; He that is the foremost of all bearers of weapons; He that accepts the flowery and leafy offerings made to Him by His worshippers; He that has subdued all his passions and grinds all His foes; He that has none to walk before Him; He that has four horns; He that is the elder brother of Gada (DCCLVI--DCCLXIV); He that has four arms; He from whom the four Purushas have sprung; He that is the refuge of the four modes of life and the four orders of men; He that is of four souls (Mind, Understanding, Consciousness, and Memory); He from whom spring the four objects of life, viz., Righteousness, Wealth, Pleasure, and Emancipation; He that is conversant with the four Vedas; He that has displayed only a fraction of His puissance (DCCLXV--DCCLXXII); He that sets the wheel of the world to revolve round and round; He whose soul is dissociated from all worldly attachments; He that is incapable of being vanquished; He that cannot be transcended; He that is exceedingly difficult of being attained; He that is difficult of being approached; He that is difficult of access; He that is difficult of being brought within the heart (by even Yogins); He that slays even the most powerful foes (among the Danavas) (DCCLXXIII--DCCLXXXI); He that has beautiful limbs; He that takes the essence of all things in the universe; He that owns the most beautiful warp and woof (for weaving this texture of fabric of the universe); He that weaves with ever-extending warp and woof; He whose acts are done by Indra; He whose acts are great; He who has no acts undone; He who has composed all the Vedas and scriptures (DCCLXXXII--DCCLXXXIX); He whose birth is high; He that is exceedingly handsome; He whose heart is full of commiseration; He that has precious gems in His navel; He that has excellent knowledge for His eye; He that is worthy of worship by Brahman himself and other foremost ones in the universe; He that is giver of food; He that assumed horns at the time of the universal dissolution; He that has always subjugated His foes most wonderfully; He that knows all things; He that is ever victorious over those that are of irresistible prowess (DCCXC--DCCXCIX); He whose limbs are like gold; He that is incapable of being agitated (by wrath or aversion or other passion); He that is Master of all those who are masters of all speech; He that is the deepest lake; He that is the deepest pit; He that transcends the influence of Time; He in whom the primal elements are established (DCCC--DCCCVI); He that gladdens the earth; He that grants fruits which are as agreeable as the Kunda flowers (Jasmim pubescens, Linn); He that gave away the earth unto Kasyapa (in His incarnation as Rama); He that extinguishes the three kinds of misery (mentioned in the Sankhya philosophy) like a rain-charged cloud cooling the heat of the earth by its downpour; He that cleanses all creatures; He that has none to urge Him; He that drank nectar; He that has an undying body; He that is possessed of omniscience; He that has face and eyes turned towards every direction (DCCCVII--DCCCXVI); He that is easily won (with, that is, such gifts as consist of flowers and leaves); He that has performed excellent vows; He that is crowned with success by Himself; He that is victorious over all foes; He that scorches all foes; He that is the ever-growing and tall Banian that overtops all other trees; He that is the sacred fig tree (Ficus glomerata, Willd); He that is the Ficus religiosa; (or, He that is not durable, in consequence of His being all perishable forms in the universe even as he is all the imperishable forms that exist); He that is the slayer of Chanura of the Andhra country (DCCCXVII--DCCCXXV); He that is endued with a thousand rays; He that has seven tongues (in the forms of Kali, Karali, etc.); He that has seven flames (in consequence of His being identical with the deity of fire); He that has seven horses for bearing His vehicle; (or, He that owns the steed called Sapta); He that is formless; He that is sinless: He that is inconceivable; He that dispels all fears; He that destroys all fears (DCCCXXVI--DCCCXXXIV); He that is minute; He that is gross; He that is emaciated; He that is adipose; He that is endued with attributes; He that transcends all attributes; He that is unseizable; He that suffers Himself to be easily seized (by His worshippers); He that has an excellent face; He that has for His descendants the people of the accidental regions; He that extends the creation consisting of the fivefold primal elements (DCCCXXXV--DCCCXLVI); He that bears heavy weights (in the form of Ananta); He that has been declared by the Vedas; He that is devoted to Yoga; He that is the lord of all Yogins; He that is the giver of all wishes; He that affords an asylum to those that seek it; He that sets Yogins to practise Yoga anew after their return to life upon the conclusion of their life of felicity in heaven; He that invests Yogins with puissance even after the exhaustion of their merits; He that has goodly leaves (in the form of the Schhandas of the Vedas, Himself being the tree of the world); He that causes the winds to blow (DCCCXLVII--DCCCLVI); He that is armed with the bow (in the form of Rama); He that is conversant with the science of arms; He that is the rod of chastisement; He that is chastiser; He that executes all sentences of chastisement; He that has never been vanquished; He that is competent in all acts; He that sets all persons to their respective duties; He that has none to set Him to any work; He that has no Yama to slay Him (DCCCLVII--DCCCLXVI); He that is endued with heroism and prowess; He that has the attribute of Sattwa (Goodness); He that is identical with Truth; He that is devoted to Truth and Righteousness; He that is sought by those who are resolved to achieve emancipation; (or, He towards whom the universe proceeds when the dissolution comes); He that deserves to have all objects which His worshippers present unto Him; He that is worthy of being adored (with hymns and flowers and other offering of reverence); He that does good to all; He that enhances the delights of all (DCCCLXVII--DCCCLXXV); He whose track is through the firmament; He that blazes forth in His own effulgence; He that is endued with great beauty; He that eats the offerings made on the sacrificial fire; He that dwells everywhere and is endued with supreme puissance; He that sucks the moisture of the earth in the form of the Sun; He that has diverse desires; He that brings forth all things; He that is the parent of the universe; He that has the Sun for His eye (DCCCLXXVI--DCCCLXXXV); He that is Infinite; He that accepts all sacrificial offerings; He that enjoys Prakriti in the form of Mind; He that is giver of felicity; He that has taken repeated births (for the protection of righteousness and the righteous); He that is First-born of all existent things; He that transcends despair (in consequence of the fruition of all His wishes); He that forgives the righteous when they trip; He that is the foundation upon which the universe rests; He that is most wonderful (DCCCLXXXVI--DCCCXCV); He that is existent from the beginning of Time; He that has been existing from before the birth of the Grandsire and others; He that is of a tawny hue; (or, He that discovers or illumines all existent things by His rays); He that assumed the form of the great Boar; He that exists even when all things are dissolved; He that is the giver of all blessings; He that creates blessings; He that is identifiable with all blessings; He that enjoys blessings; He that is able to scatter blessings (DCCCXCVI--CMV); He that is without wrath; He that lies ensconced in folds (in the form of the snake Sesha); (or, He that is adorned with ear-rings); He that is armed with the discus; He that is endued with great prowess; He whose sway is regulated by the high precepts of the Srutis and the Smritis; He that is incapable of being described by the aid of speech; He whom the Vedantas have striven to express with the aid of speech; He that is the dew which cools those who are afflicted with the three kinds of grief; He that lives in all bodies, endued with the capacity of dispelling darkness (CMVI--CMXIV); He that is divested of wrath; He that is well-skilled in accomplishing all acts by thought, word, and deed; He that can accomplish all acts within the shortest period of time; He that destroys the wicked; He that is the foremost of all forgiving persons; He that is foremost of all persons endued with knowledge; He that transcends all fear; He whose names and feats, heard and recited, lead to Righteousness (CMXV--CMXXII), He that rescues the Righteous from the tempestuous ocean of the world; He that destroys the wicked; He that is Righteousness; He that dispels all evil dreams; He that destroys all bad paths for leading His worshippers to the good path of emancipation; He that protects the universe by staying in the attribute of Sattwa; He that walks along the good path; He that is Life; He that exists overspreading the universe (CMXXIII--CMXXXI); He that is of infinite forms; He that is endued with infinite prosperity; He that has subdued wrath; He that destroys the fears of the righteous; He that gives just fruits, on every side, to sentient beings according to their thoughts and acts; He that is immeasurable Soul; He that bestows diverse kinds of fruits on deserving persons for their diverse acts; He that sets diverse commands (on gods and men); He that attaches to every act its proper fruit (CMXXXII--CMXL); He that has no beginning; He that is the receptacle of all causes as well as of the earth; He that has the goddess of Prosperity ever by his side; He that is the foremost of all heroes; He that is adorned with beautiful armlets; He that produces all creatures; He that is the original cause of the birth of all creatures; He that is the terror of all the wicked Asuras; He that is endued with terrible prowess (CMXLI--CMXLIX); He that is the receptacle and abode of the five primal elements; He that gulps down His throat all creatures at the time of the universal dissolution; He whose smile is as agreeable as the sight of flowers; (or, He who laughs in the form of flowers); He that is always wakeful; He that stays at the head of all creatures; He whose conduct consists of those acts which the Righteous do; He that revives the dead (as in the case of Parikshit and others); He that is the initial syllable Om; He that has ordained all righteous acts (CML--CMLVIII); He that displays the truth about the Supreme Soul; He that is the abode of the five life-breaths and the senses; He that is the food which supports the life of living creatures; He that causes all living creatures to live with the aid of the life-breath called Prana; He that is the great topic of every system of philosophy; He that is the One Soul in the universe; He that transcends birth, decrepitude, and death (CMLIX--CMLXV); He that rescues the universe in consequence of the sacred syllable Bhuh, Bhuvah, Swah, and the others with which Homa offerings are made; He that is the great rescuer; He that is the sire of all; He that is the sire of even the Grandsire (Brahman); He that is of the form of Sacrifice; He that is the Lord of all sacrifices (being the great deity that is adored in them); He that is the sacrificer; He that has sacrifices for his limbs; He that upholds all sacrifices (CMLXVI--CMLXXV); He that protects sacrifices; He that has created sacrifices; He that is the foremost of all performers of sacrifices; He that enjoys the rewards of all sacrifices; He that causes the accomplishment of all sacrifices; He that completes all sacrifices by accepting the full libation at the end; He that is identical with such sacrifices as are performed without desire of fruit; He that is the food which sustains all living creatures; He that is also the eater of that food (CMLXXVI--CMLXXXIV); He that is Himself the cause of His existence; He that is self-born; He that penetrated through the solid earth (and repairing to the nether regions slew Hiranyaksha and others); He that sings the Samans; He that is the delighter of Devaki; He that is the creator of all; He that is the Lord of the earth; He that is the destroyer of the sins of his worshippers (CMLXXXV--CMXCII); He that bears the conch (Panchajanya) in His hands; He that bears the sword of knowledge and illusion; He that sets the cycle of the Yugas to revolve ceaselessly; He that invests Himself with consciousness and senses; He that is endued with the mace of the most solid understanding. He that is armed with a car-wheel; He that is incapable of being agitated; He that is armed with all kinds of weapons (CMXCIII--M). Om, salutations to Him! "Even thus have I recited to thee, without any exception, the thousand excellent names of the high-souled Kesava whose glory should always be sung. That man who hears the names every day or who recites them every day, never meets with any evil either here or hereafter. If a Brahmana does this he succeeds in mastering the Vedanta; if a Kshatriya does it, he becomes always successful in battle. A Vaisya, by doing it, becomes possessed of affluence, while a Sudra earns great happiness. If one becomes desirous of earning the merit of righteousness, one succeeds in earning it (by hearing or reciting these names). If it is wealth that one desires, one succeeds in earning wealth (by acting in this way). So also the man who wishes for enjoyments of the senses succeeds in enjoying all kinds of pleasures, and the man desirous of offspring acquires offspring (by pursuing this course of conduct). That man who with devotion and perseverance and heart wholly turned towards him, recites these thousand names of Vasudeva every day, after having purified himself, succeeds in acquiring great fame, a position of eminence among his kinsmen, enduring prosperity, and lastly, that which is of the highest benefit to him (viz., emancipation itself). Such a man never meets with fear at any time, and acquires great prowess and energy. Disease never afflicts him; splendour of complexion, strength, beauty, and accomplishments become his. The sick become hale, the afflicted become freed from their afflictions; the affrighted become freed from fear, and he that is plunged in calamity becomes freed from calamity. The man who hymns the praises of that foremost of Beings by reciting His thousand names with devotion succeeds in quickly crossing all difficulties. That mortal who takes refuge in Vasudeva and who becomes devoted to Him, becomes freed of all sins and attains to eternal Brahma. They who are devoted to Vasudeva have never to encounter any evil. They become freed from the fear of birth, death, decrepitude, and disease. That man who with devotion and faith recites this hymn (consisting of the thousand names of Vasudeva) succeeds in acquiring felicity of soul, forgiveness of disposition, Prosperity, intelligence, memory, and fame. Neither wrath, nor jealousy, nor cupidity, nor evil understanding ever appears in those men of righteousness who are devoted to that foremost of beings. The firmament with the sun, moon and stars, the welkin, the points of the compass, the earth and the ocean, are all held and supported by the prowess of the high-souled Vasudeva. The whole mobile and immobile universe with the deities, Asuras, and Gandharvas, Yakshas, Uragas and Rakshasas, is under the sway of Krishna. The senses, mind, understanding, life, energy, strength and memory, it has been said, have Vasudeva for their soul. Indeed, this body that is called Kshetra, and the intelligent soul within, that is called the knower of Kshetra, also have Vasudeva for their soul. Conduct (consisting of practices) is said to be the foremost of all topics treated of in the scriptures. Righteousness has conduct for its basis. The unfading Vasudeva is said to be the lord of righteousness. The Rishis, the Pitris, the deities, the great (primal) elements, the metals, indeed, the entire mobile and immobile universe, has sprung from Narayana. Yoga, the Sankhya Philosophy, knowledge, all mechanical arts, the Vedas, the diverse scriptures, and all learning, have sprung from Janardana. Vishnu is the one great element or substance which has spread itself out into multifarious forms. Covering the three worlds, He the soul of all things, enjoys them all. His glory knows no diminution, and He it is that is the Enjoyer of the universe (as its Supreme Lord). This hymn in praise of the illustrious Vishnu composed by Vyasa, should be recited by that person who wishes to acquire happiness and that which is the highest benefit (viz., emancipation). Those persons that worship and adore the Lord of the universe, that deity who is inborn and possessed of blazing effulgence, who is the origin or cause of the universe, who knows on deterioration, and who is endued with eyes that are as large and beautiful as the petals of the lotus, have never to meet with any discomfiture."'" SECTION CL "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou of great wisdom, O thou that art conversant with all branches of knowledge, what is that subject of silent recitation by reciting which every day one may acquire the merit of righteousness in a large measure? What is that Mantra for recitation which bestows success if recited on the occasion of setting out on a journey or in entering a new building, or at the commencement of any undertaking, or on the occasion of sacrifices in honour of the deities or of the Pitris? It behoveth thee to tell me what indeed, what Mantra it is, which propitiates all malevolent influences, or leads to prosperity or growth, or protection from evil, or the destruction of foes, or the dispelling of fears, and which, at the same time, is consistent with the Vedas." "'Bhishma said, "Hear, O king, with concentrated attention, what that Mantra is which was declared by Vyasa. It was ordained by Savitri and is possessed of great excellence. It is capable of cleansing a person immediately of all his sins. Hear, O sinless one, as I recite to thee the ordinances in respect of that Mantra. Indeed, O chief of the sons of Pandu, by listening to those ordinances, one becomes cleansed of all one's sins. One who recites this Mantra day and night becomes never stained by sin. I shall now declare it to thee what that Mantra is. Do thou listen with concentrated attention. Indeed, the man that hears it becomes endued with long life, O prince, and attaining to the fruition of all his wishes, sports in felicity both here and hereafter. This Mantra, O king, was daily recited by the foremost of royal sages devoted to the practice to Kshatriya duties and steadily observant of the vow of truth. Indeed, O tiger among kings, those monarchs who, with restrained senses and tranquil soul, recite this Mantra every day, succeed in acquiring unrivalled prosperity--Salutations to Vasishtha of high vows after having bowed with reverence unto Parasara, that Ocean of the Vedas! Salutations to the great snake Ananta, and salutations to all those who are crowned with success, and who are of unfading glory! Salutations to the Rishis, and unto Him that is the Highest of the High, the god of gods, and the giver of boons unto all those that are foremost. Salutations unto Him of a thousand heads, Him that is most auspicious, Him that has a thousand names, viz., Janardana! Aja, Ekapada, Ahivradhna, the unvanquished Pinakin, Rita Pitrirupa, the three-eyed Maheswara, Vrishakapi, Sambhu, Havana, and Iswara--these are the celebrated Rudras, eleven in number, who are the lords of all the worlds. Even these eleven high-souled ones have been mentioned as a hundred in the Satarudra (of the Vedas). Ansa, Bhaga, Mitra, Varuna the lord of waters, Dhatri, Aryaman, Jayanta, Bhaskara, Tvashtri, Pushan, Indra and Vishnu, are said to comprise a tale of twelve. These twelve are called Adityas and they are the sons of Kasyapa as the Sruti declares. Dhara, Dhruva, Some, Savitra. Anila, Anala, Pratyusha, and Prabhava, are the eight Vasus named in the scriptures, Nasataya and Dasra are said to be the two Aswins. They are the sons of Martanda born of his spouse Samjna, from whose nostrils they came out. After this I shall recite the names of those who are the witnesses of all acts in the worlds. They take note of all sacrifices, of all gifts, of all good acts. Those lords among the deities behold everything although they are invisible. Indeed, they behold all the good and bad acts of all beings. They are Mrityu, Kala, the Viswedevas, the Pitris endued with forms, the great Rishis possessed of wealth of penances, the Munis, and others crowned with success and devoted to penances and emancipation. These of sweet smiles, bestow diverse benefits upon those men that recite their names. Verily, endued with celestial energy, they bestow diverse regions of felicity created by the Grandsire upon such men. They reside in all the worlds and attentively note all acts. By reciting the names of those lords of all living creatures, one always becomes endued with righteousness and wealth and enjoyments in copious measure. One acquires hereafter diverse regions of auspiciousness and felicity created by the Lord of the universe. These three and thirty deities, who are the lords of all beings as also Nandiswara of huge body, and that pre-eminent one who has the bull for the device on his banner, and those masters of all the worlds, viz., the followers and associates of him called Ganeswara, and those called Saumyas, and called the Rudras, and those called the Yogas, and those that are known as the Bhutas, and the luminaries in the firmament, the Rivers, the sky, the prince of birds (viz., Garuda), all those persons on earth who have become crowned with success in consequence of their penances and who are existing in an immobile or mobile form, the Himavat, all the mountains, the four Oceans, the followers and associates of Bhava who are possessed of prowess equal to that of Bhava himself, the illustrious and ever-victorious Vishnu, and Skanda, and Ambika,--these are the great souls by reciting whose name with restrained senses, one becomes cleansed of all sins. After this I shall recite the names of those foremost Rishis who are known as Manavas. They are Yavakrita, and Raibhya, and Arvavasu, and Paravasu, and Aushija, and Kakshivat, and Vala the son of Angiras. Then comes Kanwa the son of the Rishi Medhatithi, and Varishada. All these are endued with the energy of Brahma and have been spoken of (in the scriptures) as creators of the universe. They have sprung from Rudra and Anala and the Vasus. By reciting their names people obtain great benefits. Indeed, by doing good deeds on earth, people sport in joy in heaven, with the deities. These Rishis are the priests of Indra. They live in the east. That man who, with rapt attention, recites the names of these Rishis, succeeds in ascending to the regions of Indra and obtaining great honours there. Unmachu, Pramchu, Swastyatreya of great energy, Dridhavya, Urdhvavahu, Trinasoma, Angiras, and Agastya of great energy, the son of Mitravaruna,--these seven are the Ritwiks of Yama the king of the dead, and dwell in the southern quarter. Dridheyu and Riteyu, and Pariyadha of great fame, and Ekata, and Dwita, and Trita--the last three endued with splendour like that of the sun,--and Atri's son of righteous soul, viz., the Rishi Saraswata,--these seven who had acted as Ritwiks in the great sacrifice of Varuna--have taken up their abodes in the western quarter. Atri, the illustrious Vasishtha, the great Rishi Kasyapa, Gotama, Bharadwaja, Viswamitra, the son of Kusika, and Richika's fierce son Jamadagni of great energy,--these seven are the Ritwiks of the Lord of treasures and dwell in the northern quarter. There are seven other Rishis that live in all directions without being confined to any particular one. They, it is, who are the inducers of fame and of all this beneficial to men, and they have been sung as the creators of the worlds. Dharma, Kama, Kala, Vasu, Vasuki, Ananta, and Kapila,--these seven are the upholders of the world. Rama, Vyasa, Drona's son Aswatthaman, are the other Rishis (that are regarded as the foremost). These are the great Rishis as distributed into seven groups, each group consisting of seven. They are the creators of that peace and good that men enjoy. They are said to be the Regents of the several points of the compass. One should turn one's face to that direction in which one of these Rishis live if one wishes to worship him. Those Rishis are the creators of all creatures and have been regarded as the cleansers of all. Samvarta, Merusavarna, the righteous Markandeya, and Sankhya and Yoga, and Narada and the great Rishi Durvasa,--these are endued with severe penance and great self-restraint, and are celebrated over the three worlds. There are others who are equal to Rudra himself. They live in the region of Brahman. By naming them with reverence a sonless man obtains a son, and a poor man obtains wealth. Indeed, by naming them, one acquires success in religion, and wealth and pleasure. One should also take the name of that celebrated king who was Emperor of all the earth and equal to a Prajapati, viz., that foremost of monarchs, Prithu, the son of Vena. The earth became his daughter (from love and affection). One should also name Pururavas of the Solar race and equal unto Mahendra himself in prowess. He was the son of Ila and celebrated over the three worlds. One should, indeed, take the name of that dear son of Vudha. One should also take the name of Bharata, that hero celebrated over the three worlds. He also who in the Krita age adored the gods in a grand Gomedha sacrifice, viz., Rantideva of great splendour, who was equal unto Mahadeva himself, should be named. Endued with penances, possessed of every auspicious mark, the source of every kind of benefit to the world, he was the conqueror of the universes. One should also take the name of the royal sage Sweta of illustrious fame. He had gratified the great Mahadeva and it was for his sake that Andhaka was slain. One should also take the name of the royal sage Bhagiratha of great fame, who, through the grace of Mahadeva, succeeded in bringing down the sacred river from heaven (for flowing over the earth and cleansing all human beings of their sins). It was Bhagiratha who caused the ashes of the sixty thousand sons of Sagara to be overflowed with the sacred waters of Ganga and thereby rescued them from their sin. Indeed, one should take the names of all these that were endued with the blazing effulgence of fire, great beauty of person, and high energy. Some of them were of awe-inspiring forms and great might. Verily, one should take the names of these deities and Rishis and kings, those lords of the universe,--who are enhancers of fame. Sankhya, and Yoga which is highest of the high, and Havya and Kavya and that refuge of all the Srutis, viz., Supreme Brahma, have been declared to be the sources of great benefit to all creatures. These are sacred and sin-cleansing and have been spoken of very highly. These are the foremost of medicines for allaying all diseases, and are the inducers of the success in respect of all deeds. Restraining one's senses, one should, O Bharata, take the names of these, morning and evening. It is these that protect. It is these that shower rain. It is these that shine and give light and heat. It is these that blow. It is these that create all things. These are regarded as the foremost of all, as the leaders of the universe, as highly clever in the accomplishment of all things, as endued with forgiveness, as complete masters of the senses. Indeed, it has been said that they dispel all the evils to which human beings are subject. These high-souled ones are the witnesses of all good and bad deeds. Rising up in the morning one should take their names, for by this, one is sure to acquire all that is good. He who takes the names of them becomes freed from the fear of fires and of thieves. Such a man never finds his way obstructed by any impediment. By taking the names of these high-souled ones, one becomes free from bad dreams of every kind. Cleared from every sin, such men take birth in auspicious families. That regenerate person who, with restrained senses, recites these names on the occasions of performing the initiatory rites of sacrifices and other religious observances, becomes, as the consequence thereof, endued with righteousness, devoted to the study of the soul, possessed of forgiveness and self-restraint, and free from malice. If a man that is afflicted with disease recites them, he becomes freed from his sin in the form of disease. By reciting them within a house, all evils are dispelled from the inmates. By reciting them within a field, the growth is helped of all kinds of crops. Reciting them at the time of setting out on a journey, or while one is away from one's home, one meets with good fortune. These names lead to the protection of one's own self, of one's children and spouses, of one's wealth, and of one's seeds, and plants. The Kshatriya who recites these names at the time of joining a battle sees destruction overtake his foes and good fortune crown him and his party. The man who recites these names on the occasions of performing the rites in honour of the deities or the Pitris, helps the Pitris and deities eat the sacrificial Havya and Kavya. The man that recites them becomes freed from fear of diseases and beasts of prey, of elephants and thieves. His load of anxiety becomes lightened, and he becomes freed from every sin. By reciting these excellent Savitri Mantras on board a vessel, or in a vehicle, or in the courts of kings, one attains to high success. There where these Mantras are recited, fire does not burn wood. There children do not die, nor snakes dwell. Indeed, at such places, there can be no fear of the king, nor of Pisachas and Rakshasas.[607] Verily, the man who recites these Mantras ceases to have any fear of fire or water or wind or beasts of prey. These Savitri Mantras, recited duly, contribute to the peace and well-being of all the four orders. Those men who recite them with reverence become freed from every sorrow and at last attain to a high end. Even these are the results achieved by them that recite these Savitri Mantras which are of the form of Brahma. That man who recites these Mantras in the midst of kine sees his kine become fruitful. Whether when setting out on a journey, or entering a house on coming back, one should recite these Mantras on every occasion. These Mantras constitute a great mystery of the Rishis and are the very highest of those which they silently recite. Even such are these Mantras unto them who practise the duty of recitation and pour libations on the sacrificial fire. This that I have said unto thee is the excellent opinion of Parasara. It was recited in former days unto Sakra himself. Representing as it does Truth or Eternal Brahman, I have declared it in full to thee. It constitutes that heart of all creatures, and is the highest Sruti. All the princes of the race of Soma and of Surya, viz., the Raghavas and the Kauravas, recite these Mantras every day after having purified themselves, These constitute the highest end of human creatures. There is rescue from every trouble and calamity in the daily recitation of the names of the deities of the seven Rishis, and of Dhruva. Indeed, such recitation speedily frees one from distress. The sages of olden times, viz., Kasyapa, Gotama, and others, and Bhrigu Angiras and Atri and others, and Sukra, Agastya, and Vrihaspati, and others, all of whom are regenerate Rishis, have adored these Mantras. Approved of by the son of Bharadwaja, these Mantras were attained by the sons of Richika. Verily, having acquired them again from Vasishtha, Sakra and the Vasus went forth to battle and succeeded in subjugating the Danavas. That man who makes a present of a hundred kine with their horns covered with plates of gold unto a Brahmana possessed of much learning and well-conversant with the Vedas, and he who causes the excellent Bharata story to be recited in his house every day, are said to acquire equal merits. By reciting the name of Bhrigu one's righteousness becomes enhanced. By bowing to Vasishtha one's energy become enhanced. By bowing unto Raghu, one becomes victorious in battle. By reciting the praises of the Aswins, one becomes freed from diseases. I have thus, O king, told thee of the Savitri Mantras which are identical with eternal Brahman. If thou wishest to question me on any other topic thou mayst do so. I shall, O Bharata, answer thee."'" SECTION CLI "'Yudhishthira said, "Who deserve to be worshipped? Who are they unto whom we should bow? How, indeed, should we behave towards whom? What course of conduct, O grandsire, towards what classes of persons is regarded faultless?" "'Bhishma said, "The humiliation of Brahmanas would humiliate the very deities. By bowing unto Brahmanas one does not, O Yudhishthira, incur any fault. They deserve to be worshipped. They deserve to have our salutations. Thou shouldst behave towards them as if they are thy sons. Indeed, it is those men endued with great wisdom that uphold all the worlds. The Brahmanas are the great causeways of Righteousness in respect of all the worlds. Their happiness consists in renouncing all kinds of wealth. They are devoted to the vow of restraining speech. They are agreeable to all creatures, and observant of diverse excellent vows. They are the refuge of all creatures in the universe. They are the authors of all the regulations which govern the worlds. They are possessed of great fame. Penances are always their great wealth. Their power consists in speech. Their energy flows from the duties they observe. Conversant with all duties, they are possessed of minute vision, so that they are cognizant of the subtlest considerations. They are of righteous desires. They live the observance of well-performed duties. They are the causeways of Righteousness. The four kinds of living creatures exist, depending upon them as their refuge. They are the path or road along which all should go. They are the guides of all. They are the eternal upholders of all the sacrifices. They always uphold the heavy burdens of sires and grandsires. They never droop under heavy weights even when passing along difficult roads like strong cattle. They are attentive to the requirements of Pitris and deities and guests. They are entitled to eat the first portions of Havya and Kavya. By the very food they eat, they rescue the three worlds from great fear. They are as it were, the Island (for refuge) for all worlds. They are the eyes of all persons endued with sight. The wealth they possess consists of all the branches of knowledge known by the name of Siksha and all the Srutis. Endued with great skill, they are conversant with the most subtle relations of things. They are well-acquainted with the end of all things, and their thoughts are always employed upon the science of the soul. They are endued with the knowledge of the beginning, the middle, and the end of all things, and they are persons in whom doubts no longer exist in consequence of feeling certain of their knowledge. They are fully aware of the distinctions between what is superior and what is inferior. They it is who attain to the highest end. Freed from all attachments, cleansed of all sins, transcending all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, happiness and misery, etc.), they are unconnected with all worldly things. Deserving of every honour, they are always held in great esteem by persons endued with knowledge and high souls. They cast equal eyes on sandal-paste and filth or dirt, on what is food and what is not food. They see with an equal eye their brown vestments of coarse cloth and fabrics of silk and animal skins. They would live for many days together without eating any food, and dry up their limbs by such abstention from all sustenance. They devote themselves earnestly to the study of the Vedas, restraining their senses. They would make gods of those that are not gods, and not gods of those that are gods. Enraged, they can create other worlds and other Regents of the worlds than those that exist. Through the course of those high-souled ones, the ocean became so saline as to be undrinkable. The fire of their wrath yet burns in the forest of Dandaka, unquenched by time. They are the gods of the gods, and the cause of all cause. They are the authority of all authorities. What man of intelligence and wisdom is there that would seek to humiliate them? Amongst them the young and the old all deserve honours. They honour one another (not in consequence of distinctions of age but) in consequence of distinctions in respect of penances and knowledge. Even the Brahmana that is destitute of knowledge is a god and is a high instrument for cleansing others. He amongst them, then, that is possessed of knowledge is a much higher god and like unto the ocean when full (to the brim). Learned or unlearned, Brahmana is always a high deity. Sanctified or unsanctified (with the aid of Mantras), Fire is ever a great deity. A blazing fire even when it burns on a crematorium, is not regarded as tainted in consequence of the character of the spot whereon it burns. Clarified butter looks beautiful whether kept on the sacrificial altar or in a chamber. So, if a Brahmana be always engaged in evil acts, he is still to be regarded as deserving of honour. Indeed, know that the Brahmana is always a high deity."'" SECTION CLII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell us, O king, what is that reward attached to the worship of Brahmanas, seeing which thou worshippest them, O thou of superior intelligence! Indeed, what is that success, flowing from their worship, guided by which thou worshippest them?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited this old narrative of a conversation between Pavana and Arjuna, O Bharata! Endued with a thousand arms and great beauty the mighty Kartavirya, in days of yore, became the lord of all the world. He had his capital in the city of Mahishmati. Of unbaffled prowess, that chief of the Haihaya race of Kshatriyas swayed the whole earth with her belt of seas, together with all her islands and all her precious mines of gold and gems. Keeping before him the duties of the Kshatriya order, as also humility and Vedic knowledge, the king made large gifts of wealth unto the Rishi Dattatreya. Indeed, the son of Kritavirya thus adored the great ascetic who, becoming pleased with him, asked him to solicit three boons. Thus requested by the Rishi in respect of boons, the king addressed him, saying, 'Let me become endued with a thousand arms when I am in the midst of my troops. While, however, I remain at home let me have, as usual only two arms! Indeed, let combatants, when engaged in battle, behold me possessed of a thousand arms, observant also of high vows, let me succeed in subjugating the whole earth by dint of my prowess. Having acquired the earth righteously, let me sway her with vigilance. There is a fourth boon which, O foremost of regenerate persons, I solicit thee to grant. O faultless one, in consequence of the disposition to favour me, it behoveth thee to grant it to me. Dependent that I am on thee, whenever I may happen to go wrong, let the righteous come forth to instruct and set me right!' Thus addressed, the Brahmana replied unto the king, saying, 'So let it be!' Even thus were those boons acquired by that king of blazing effulgence. Riding then on his car whose splendour resembled that of fire or the Sun, the monarch, blinded by his great prowess, said, 'Who, indeed, is there that can be regarded as my equal in patience and energy, in fame and heroism, in prowess and strength?' After he had uttered these words, an invisible voice in the welkin said, 'O ignorant wretch, dost thou not know that the Brahmana is superior to the Kshatriya? The Kshatriya, assisted by the Brahmana rules all creatures!' "'"Arjuna said, 'When gratified, I am able to create many creatures. When angry, I am able to destroy all. In thought, word, and deed, I am the foremost. The Brahmana is certainly not above me! The first proposition here is that the Brahmana is superior to the Kshatriya. The counter-proposition is that the Kshatriya is superior. Thou hast said, O invisible being that the two are united together (in the act upon which the Kshatriya's superiority is sought to be based). A distinction, however, is observable in this. It is seen that Brahmanas take refuge with Kshatriyas. The Kshatriyas never seek the refuge of Brahmanas. Indeed, throughout the earth, the Brahmanas, accepting such refuge under the pretence of teaching the Vedas, draw their sustenance from the Kshatriyas. The duty of protecting all creatures is vested in Kshatriyas. It is from the Kshatriyas that the Brahmanas derive their sustenance. How then can the Brahmana be superior to the Kshatriyas? Well, I shall from today, bring under my subjection, your Brahmanas who are superior to all creatures but who have mendicancy for their occupation and who are so self-conceited! What the virgin Gayatri has said from the welkin is not true. Robed in skins, the Brahmanas move about in independence. I shall bring those independent wights under my subjection. Deity or man, there is none in the three worlds who can hurl me from the sovereignty I enjoy. Hence, I am certainly superior to the Brahmanas. This world that is now regarded as having Brahmanas for its foremost denizens shall soon be made such as to have Kshatriyas for its foremost denizens. There is none that is capable of bearing my might in battle!' Hearing these words of Arjuna, the welkin-ranging goddess became agitated. Then the god of wind, addressing the king from the sky, said, 'Cast off this sinful attitude. Bow unto the Brahmanas. By injuring them thou wilt bring about troubles on thy kingdom. The Brahmanas will either slay thee, king though thou art, or, endued with great might that they are, they will drive thee away from thy kingdom, despoiling thee of thy energy!' The king, hearing this speech, addressed the speaker, saying, 'Who, indeed, art thou?' The god of wind answered, 'I am the god of wind and the messenger of the deities! I say unto thee what is for thy benefit.' "'"Arjuna said, 'Oh, I see that thou hast today shown thy devotion and attachment to the Brahmanas. Tell me now what kind of earthly creature is the Brahmana! Tell me, does a superior Brahmana resemble the Wind in any respect? Or, is he like Water, or Fire, or the Sun, or the Firmament?'"'" SECTION CLIII "'"The god of wind said, 'Hear, O deluded man, what the attributes are that belong to Brahmanas all of whom are endued with high souls. The Brahmana is superior to all those which, O king, thou hast named! In days of yore, the earth, indulging in a spirit of rivalry with the king of the Angas, forsook her character as Earth. The regenerate Kasyapa caused destruction to overtake her by actually paralysing her. The Brahmanas are always unconquerable, O king, in heaven as also on earth. In days of yore, the great Rishi Angiras, through his energy, drank off all the waters. The high-souled Rishi, having drank off all the waters as if they were milk, did not feel yet his thirst to be slaked. He, therefore, once more caused the earth to be filled with water by raising a mighty wave. On another occasion, when Angiras became enraged with me, I fled away, leaving the world, and dwelt for a long time concealed in the Agnihotra of the Brahmanas through fear of that Rishi. The illustrious Purandara, in consequence of his having coveted the body of Ahalya, was cursed by Gautama, yet, for the sake of Righteousness and wealth, the Rishi did not destroy outright the chief of the deities. The Ocean, O king, that was full in former days of crystal water, cursed by the Brahmanas, became saline in taste.[608] Even Agni who is of the complexion of gold, and who blazes with effulgence when destitute of smoke, and whose flames uniting together burn upwards, when cursed by the angry Angiras, became divested of all these attributes.[609] Behold, the sixty thousand sons of Sagara, who came here to adore the Ocean, have all been pulverised by the Brahmana, Kapila of golden complexion. Thou art not equal to the Brahmanas. Do thou, O king, seek thy own good. The Kshatriya of even great puissance bows to Brahmana children that are still in their mothers' wombs. The large kingdom of the Dandakas was destroyed by a Brahmana. The mighty Kshatriya Talajangala was destroyed by a single Brahmana, viz., Aurva. Thou too hast acquired a large kingdom, great might, religious merit, and learning, which are all difficult of attainment, through the grace of Dattatreya. Why dost thou, O Arjuna, worship Agni everyday who is a Brahmana? He is the bearer of sacrificial libations from every part of the universe. Art thou ignorant of this fact? Why, indeed, dost thou suffer thyself to be stupefied by folly when thou art not ignorant of the fact that a superior Brahmana is the protector of all creatures in the world and is, indeed, the creator of the living world? The Lord of all creatures, Brahman, unmanifest, endued with puissance, and of unfading glory, who created this boundless universe with its mobile and immobile creatures (is a Brahman). Some persons there are, destitute of wisdom, who say that Brahman was born of an Egg. From the original Egg, when it burst forth, mountains and the points of the compass and the waters and the earth and the heavens all sprang forth into existence. This birth of the creation was not seen by any one. How then can Brahman be said to have taken his birth from the original Egg, when especially he is declared as Unborn? It is said that vast uncreate Space is the original Egg. It was from this uncreate Space (or Supreme Brahman) that the Grandsire was born. If thou askest, "Whereon would the Grandsire, after his birth from uncreate Space, rest, for there was then nothing else?" The answer may be given in the following words, "There is an existent Being of the name of Consciousness. That mighty Being is endued with great energy. There is no Egg. Brahman, however, is existent. He is the creator of the universe and is its king!" Thus addressed by the god of wind, king Arjuna remained silent.'"'"[610] SECTION CLIV "'"The god of wind said, 'Once on a time, O king, a ruler of the name of Anga desired to give away the whole earth as sacrificial present unto the Brahmanas. At this, the earth became filled with anxiety. "I am the daughter of Brahman. I hold all creatures. Having obtained me, alas, why does this foremost of kings wish to give me away unto the Brahmanas? Abandoning my character as the soil, I shall now repair to the presence of my sire. Let this king with all his kingdom meet with destruction." Arrived at this conclusion, she departed for the region of Brahman. The Rishi Kasyapa, beholding goddess Earth on the point of departing, himself immediately entered the visible embodiment of the goddess, casting off his own body, by the aid of Yoga. The earth thus penetrated by the spirit of Kasyapa, grew in prosperity and became full of all kinds of vegetable produce. Indeed, O king for the time that Kasyapa pervaded the earth, Righteousness became foremost everywhere and all fears ceased. In this way, O king, the earth remained penetrated by the spirit of Kasyapa for thirty thousand celestial years, fully alive to all those functions which it used to discharge while it was penetrated by the spirit of Brahman's daughter. Upon the expiry of this period, the goddess returned from the region of Brahman and arrived here bowed unto Kasyapa and from that time became the daughter of that Rishi. Kasyapa is a Brahmana. Even this was the feat, O king, that a Brahmana did. Tell me the name of the Kshatriya who can be held to be superior to Kasyapa!' Hearing these words, king Arjuna remained silent. Unto him the god of wind once more said, 'Hear now, O king, the story of Utathya who was born in the race of Angiras. The daughter of Soma, named Bhadra, came to be regarded as unrivalled in beauty. Her sire Soma regarded Utathya to be the fittest of husbands for her. The famous and highly blessed maiden of faultless limbs, observing diverse vows, underwent the severest austerities from the desire of obtaining Utathya for her lord. After a while, Soma's father Atri, inviting Utathya to his house, bestowed upon him the famous maiden. Utathya, who used to give away sacrificial presents in copious measure, duly received the girl for his wife. It so happened, however, that the handsome Varuna had, from a long time before, coveted the girl. Coming to the woods where Utathya dwelt, Varuna stole away the girl when she had plunged into the Yamuna for a bath. Abducting her thus, the Lord of the waters took her to his own abode. That mansion was of a wonderful aspect. It was adorned with six hundred thousand lakes. There is no mansion that can be regarded more beautiful than that palace of Varuna. It was adorned with many palaces and by the presence of diverse tribes of Apsaras and of diverse excellent articles of enjoyment. There, within that palace, the Lord of waters, O king, sported with the damsel. A little while after, the fact of the ravishment of his wife was reported to Utathya. Indeed, having heard all the facts from Narada, Utathya addressed the celestial Rishi, saying, "Go, O Narada, unto Varuna and speak with due severity unto him. Ask him as to why he has abducted my wife, and, indeed, tell him in my name that he should yield her up. Thou mayst say to him further, 'Thou are a protector of the worlds, O Varuna, and not a destroyer! Why then hast thou abducted Utathya's wife bestowed upon him by Soma?'" Thus requested by Utathya, the celestial Rishi Narada repaired to where Varuna was and addressing him, said, "Do thou set free the wife of Utathya. Indeed, why hast thou abducted her?" Hearing these words of Narada, Varuna replied unto him, saying, "This timid girl is exceedingly dear to me. I dare not let her go!" Receiving this reply, Narada repaired to Utathya and cheerlessly said, "O great ascetic, Varuna has driven me out from his house, seizing me by the throat. He is unwilling to restore to thee thy spouse. Do thou act as thou pleasest." Hearing these words of Narada, Angiras became inflamed with wrath. Endued with wealth of penances, he solidified the waters and drank them off, aided by his energy. When all the waters were thus drunk off, the Lord of that element became very cheerless with all his friends and kinsfolk. For all that, he did not still give up Utathya's wife. Then Utathya, that foremost of regenerate persons, filled with wrath, commanded Earth, saying, "O amiable one, do thou show land where there are at present the six hundred thousand lakes." At these words of the Rishi, the Ocean receded from the spot indicated, and land appeared which was exceedingly sterile. Unto the rivers that flowed through that region, Utathya said, "O Saraswati, do thou become invisible here. Indeed, O timid lady, leaving this region, go thou to the desert! O auspicious goddess, let this region, destitute of thee, cease to become sacred." When that region (in which the lord of waters dwelt) became dry, he repaired to Angiras, taking with him Utathya's spouse, and made her over to him. Getting back his wife, Utathya became cheerful. Then, O chief of the Haihaya race, that great Brahmana rescued both the universe and the Lord of waters from the situation of distress into which he had brought them. Conversant with every duty, the Rishi Utathya of great energy, after getting back his spouse, O king, said so unto Varuna, "I have recovered my wife, O Lord of waters, with the aid of my penances and after inflicting such distress on thee as made thee cry aloud in anguish!" Having said this, he went home, with that wife of his. Even such, O king, was Utathya, that foremost of Brahmanas. Shall I go on? Or, will you yet persist in thy opinion? What, is there a Kshatriya that is superior to Utathya?'"'" SECTION CLV "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed, king Arjuna remained silent. The god of wind once more spoke to him, 'Listen now, O king, to the story of the greatness of the Brahmana Agastya. Once on a time, the gods were subjugated by the Asuras upon which they became very cheerless. The sacrifices of the deities were all seized, and the Swadha of the Pitris was also misappropriated. Indeed, O Chief of the Haihayas, all the religious acts and observances of human beings also were suspended by the Danavas. Divested of their prosperity, the deities wandered over the earth as we have heard. One day, in course of their wandering they met Agastya of high vows, that Brahmana, O king, who was endued with great energy and splendour which was as blazing as that of the sun. Saluting him duly, the deities made the usual enquiries of politeness. They then, O King, said these words unto that high-souled one, "We have been defeated by the Danavas in battle and have, therefore, fallen off from affluence and prosperity. Do thou, therefore, O foremost of ascetics, rescue us from this situation of great fear." Thus informed of the plight to which the deities had been reduced, Agastya became highly incensed (with the Danavas). Possessed of great energy, he at once blazed forth like the all-consuming fire at the time of the universal dissolution. With the blazing rays that then emanated from the Rishi, the Danavas began to be burnt. Indeed, O king, thousands of them began to drop down from the sky. Burning with the energy of Agastya, the Danavas, abandoning both heaven and earth, fled towards the southern direction. At that time the Danava king Vali was performing a Horse-sacrifice in the nether regions. Those great Asuras who were with him in those regions or who were dwelling in the bowels of the earth, were not burnt. The deities, upon the destruction of their foes, then regained their own regions, their fears entirely dispelled. Encouraged by what he accomplished for them, they then solicited the Rishi to destroy those Asuras who had taken refuge within the bowels of the earth or in the nether regions. Thus solicited by the gods, Agastya replied unto them, saying, "Yes, I am fully competent to consume those Asuras that are dwelling underneath the earth; but if I achieve such a feat, my penances will suffer a diminution. Hence, I shall not exert my power." Even thus, O king, were the Danavas consumed by the illustrious Rishi with his own energy. Even thus did Agastya of cleansed soul, O monarch, accomplish that feat with the aid of his penances. O sinless one, even so was Agastya as described by me! Shall I continue? Or, will you say anything in reply? Is there any Kshatriya who is greater than Agastya?'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, king Arjuna remained silent. The god of wind once more said, 'Hear, O king, one of the great feats of the illustrious Vasishtha. Once on a time the deities were engaged in performing a sacrifice on the shores of the lake Vaikhanasa. Knowing of his puissance, the sacrificing gods thought of Vasishtha and made him their priest in imagination. Meanwhile, seeing the gods reduced and emaciated in consequence of the Diksha they were undergoing, a race of Danavas, of the name of Khalins, of statures as gigantic as mountains, desired to slay them. Those amongst the Danavas that were either disabled or slain in the fight were plunged into the waters of the Manasa lake and in consequence of the boon of the Grandsire they instantly came back to vigour and life. Taking up huge and terrible mountain summits and maces and trees, they agitated the waters of the lake, causing them to swell up to the height of a hundred yojanas. They then ran against the deities numbering ten thousand. Afflicted by the Danavas, the gods then sought the protection of their chief, Vasava. Sakra, however, was soon afflicted by them. In his distress he sought the protection of Vasishtha. At this, the holy Rishi Vasishtha assured the deities, dispelling their fears. Understanding that the gods had become exceedingly cheerless, the ascetic did this through compassion. He put forth his energy and burnt, without any exertion, those Danavas called Khalins. Possessed of wealth of penances, the Rishi brought the River Ganga, who had gone to Kailasa, to that spot. Indeed, Ganga appeared, piercing through the waters of the lake. The lake was penetrated by that river. And as that celestial stream, piercing through the waters of the lake, appeared, it flowed on, under the name of Sarayu. The place whereon those Danavas fell came to be called after them. Even thus were the denizens of Heaven, with Indra at their head, rescued from great distress by Vasishtha, It was thus that those Danavas, who had received boons from Brahman, were slain by that high-souled Rishi. O sinless one, I have narrated to thee the feat which Vasishtha accomplished. Shall I go on? Or, will you say anything! Was there a Kshatriya who could be said to surpass the Brahmana Vasishtha?'"'" SECTION CLVI "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed, Arjuna remained silent. The god of wind once more addressed him, saying, 'Hear me, O foremost one of the Haihayas, as I narrate to thee the achievement of the high-souled Atri. Once on a time as the gods and Danavas were fighting each other in the dark, Rahu pierced both Surya and Soma with his arrows. The gods, overwhelmed by darkness, began to fall before the mighty Danavas, O foremost of kings! Repeatedly struck by the Asuras, the denizens of heaven began to lose their strength. They then beheld the learned Brahmana Atri, endued with wealth of penances, engaged in the observance of austerities. Addressing that Rishi who had conquered all his senses and in whom wrath had been extinguished, they said "Behold, O Rishi, these two, viz., Soma and Surya, who have both been pierced by the Asuras with their arrows! In consequence of this, darkness has overtaken us, and we are being struck down by the foe. We do not see the end of our troubles! Do thou, O lord of great puissance, rescue us from this great fear." "'"'The Rishi said, "How, indeed, shall I protect you?" They answered, saying, "Do thou thyself become Chandramas. Do thou also become the sun, and do thou begin to slay these robbers!" Thus solicited by them, Atri assumed the form of the darkness-destroying Soma. Indeed, in consequence of his agreeable disposition, he began to look as handsome and delightful as Soma himself. Beholding that the real Soma and the real Surya had become darkened by the shafts of the foe, Atri, assuming the forms of those luminaries, began to shine forth in splendour over the field of battle, aided by the puissance of his penances. Verily Atri made the universe blaze forth in light, dispelling all its darkness. By putting forth his puissance, he also subjugated the vast multitudes of those enemies of the deities. Beholding those great Asuras burnt by Atri, the gods also, protected by Atri's energy, began to despatch them quickly. Putting forth his prowess and mastering all his energy, it was even in this way that Atri illumined the god of day, rescued the deities, and slew the Asuras! Even this was the feat that regenerate one, aided by his sacred fire,--that silent reciter of Mantras, that one clad in deer-skins,--accomplished! Behold, O royal sage, that act achieved by that Rishi who subsisted upon fruits only! I have thus narrated to thee, in detail, the feat of the high-souled Atri. Shall I go on? Or, will you say anything? Is there a Kshatriya that is superior to this regenerate Rishi?' "'"Thus addressed, Arjuna remained silent. The god of wind once more spake unto him, 'Hear, O king, the feat achieved by the high-souled Chyavana (in days of old). Having passed his promise to the twin Aswins, Chyavana addressed the chastiser of Paka, saying, "Do thou make the Aswins drinkers of Soma with all other deities!" "'"'Indra said, "The Aswins have been cast away by us. How then, can they be admitted into the sacrificial circle for drinking Soma with the others? They are not numbered with the deities. Do not, therefore, tell us so! O thou of great vows, we do not wish to drink Soma in the company of the Aswins. Whatever other behest thou mayst be pleased to utter, O learned Brahmana, we are ready to accomplish." "'"'Chyavana said, "The twin Aswins shall drink Soma with all of you! Both of them are gods, O chief of the deities, for they are the sons of Surya. Let the gods do what I have said. By acting according to those words, the gods will reap great advantage. By acting otherwise, evil will overtake them." "'"'Indra said, "I shall not, O foremost of regenerate persons, drink Soma with the Aswins! Let others drink with them as they please! As regards myself, I dare not do it." "'"'Chyavana said, "If, O slayer of Vala, thou wilt not obey my words, thou shalt, this very day, drink Soma with them in sacrifice, compelled by me!" "'"The god of wind said, 'Then Chyavana, taking the Aswins with him, commenced a great religious rite for their benefit. The gods all became stupefied by Chyavana with his Mantras. Beholding that feat commenced by Chyavana, Indra became incensed with wrath. Taking up a huge mountain he ran against that Rishi. The chief of the deities was also armed with the thunderbolt. Then the illustrious Chyavana, endued with penances, cast an angry glance upon Indra as he advanced. Throwing a little water at him, he paralysed the chief of the deities with his thunderbolt and mountain. As the result of the religious rite he had commenced, he created a terrible Asura hostile to Indra. Made of the libations he had poured on the sacred fire, that Asura was called Mada, of mouth gaping wide. Even such was the Asura that the great ascetic created with the aid of Mantras. There were a thousand teeth in his mouth, extending for a hundred yojanas. Of terrible mien, his fangs were two hundred yojanas in length. One of his cheeks rested on the earth and the other touched the heavens. Indeed, all the gods with Vasava seemed to stand at the root of that great Asura's tongue, even as fishes when they enter into the wide open mouth of a leviathan. While standing within the mouth of Mada, the gods held a quick consultation and then addressing Indra, said, "Do thou soon bend thy head in reverence unto this regenerate personage! Freed from every scruple, we shall drink Soma with the Aswins in our company!" Then Sakra, bowing down his head unto Chyavana, obeyed his behest. Even thus did Chyavana make the Aswins drinkers of Soma with the other gods. Calling back Mada, the Rishi then assigned him the acts he was to do. That Mada was commanded to take up his residence in dice, in hunting, in drinking, and in women. Hence, O king, those men that betake themselves to these, meet with destruction, without doubt. Hence, one should always cast off these faults to a great distance. Thus, O king, I have narrated to thee the feat achieved by Chyavana. Shall I go on? Or, will you say anything in reply? Is there a Kshatriya that is higher than the Brahmana Chyavana?'"'" SECTION CLVII "'Bhishma said, "Hearing these words of the god of wind, Arjuna remained silent. At this, the god of wind once more addressed him, saying, 'When the denizens of heaven, with Indra at their head, found themselves within the mouth of the Asura Mada, at that time Chyavana took away from them the earth. Deprived previously of heaven and now shorn of the earth also, the gods became very cheerless. Indeed, those high-souled ones, afflicted with grief, then threw themselves unreservedly upon the Grandsire's protection.' "'"'The gods said, "O thou that art adored by all creatures of the universe, the earth has been taken away from us by Chyavana, while we have been deprived of heaven by the Kapas, O puissant one!" "'"'Brahman said, "Ye denizens of heaven, do you, with Indra at your head, repair quickly and seek the protection of the Brahmanas. By gratifying them you will succeed in regaining both the regions as before." Thus instructed by the Grandsire, the deities repaired to the Brahmanas and became suppliants for their protection. The Brahmanas replied, enquiring, "Whom shall we subjugate?" Thus asked, the deities said unto them, "Do ye subjugate the Kapas." The Brahmanas then said, "Bringing them down on the earth first, we shall speedily subjugate them." After this, the Brahmanas commenced a rite having for its object the destruction of the Kapas. As soon as this was heard of by the Kapas, they immediately despatched a messenger of theirs, named Dhanin, unto those Brahmanas. Dhanin, coming to them as they sat on the earth, thus delivered to them the message of the Kapas. "The Kapas are even like you all! (They are not inferior to any of you). Hence, what will be the effect of these rites which you seem to be bent upon achieving? All of them are well-conversant with the Vedas and possessed of wisdom. All of them are mindful of sacrifices. All of them have Truth for their vow, and for these reasons all of them are regarded as equal to great Rishis. The goddess of Prosperity sports among them, and they, in their turn, support her with reverence. They never indulge in acts of fruitless congress with their wives, and they never eat the flesh of such animals as have not been killed in sacrifices. They pour libations on the blazing sacrificial fire (every day) and are obedient to the behests of their preceptors and seniors. All of them are of souls under perfect control, and never take any food without dividing it duly among their children. They always proceed on cars and other vehicles together (without any of them riding his own vehicle while others journey on foot). They never indulge in acts of congress with their spouses when the latter are in midst of their functional period. They all act in such a way as to attain to regions of felicity hereafter. Indeed, they are always righteous in their deeds. When women quick with child or old men have not eaten, they never eat anything themselves. They never indulge in play or sports of any kind in the forenoon. They never sleep during the day. When the Kapas have these and many other virtues and accomplishments, why, indeed, would you seek to subjugate them? You should abstain from the endeavour! Verily, by such abstention ye would achieve what is for your good." "'"'The Brahmanas said, "Oh, we shall subjugate the Kapas! In this matter, we art one with the deities. Hence, the Kapas deserve slaughter at your hands. As regards Dhanin, he should return whence he came!" After this, Dhanin, returning to the Kapas, said unto them, "The Brahmanas are not disposed to do you any good!" Hearing this, all the Kapas took up their weapons and proceeded towards the Brahmanas. The Brahmanas, beholding the Kapas advancing against them with the standards of their cars upraised, forthwith created certain blazing fires for the destruction of the Kapas. Those eternal fires, created with the aid of Vedic Mantras, having effected the destruction of the Kapas, began to shine in the firmament like so many (golden) clouds. The gods, having assembled together in battle, slew many of the Danavas. They did not know at that time that it was the Brahmanas who had effected their destruction. Then Narada of great energy, coming there, O king, informed the deities how their foes, the Kapas, had been really slain by the Brahmanas of mighty energy (and not by deities themselves). Hearing these words of Narada, the denizens of heaven became highly gratified. They also applauded those regenerate allies of theirs that were possessed of great fame. The energy and prowess of the deities then began to increase, and worshipped in all the worlds, they acquired also the boon of immortality!' After the god of wind had said these words, king Arjuna worshipped him duly and addressing him answered in these words. Hear, O mighty armed monarch, what Arjuna said. "'"Arjuna said, 'O puissant god, always and by all means do I live for the Brahmanas! Devoted to them, I worship them always! Through the grace of Dattatreya I have obtained this might of mine! Through his grace have I been able to accomplish great feats in the world and achieve high merit! Oh, I have, with attention, heard of the achievements, O god of the wind, of the Brahmanas with all their interesting details as recited by thee truly.' "'"The god of wind said, 'Do thou protect and cherish the Brahmanas, in the exercise of those Kshatriya duties which are thine by birth. Do thou protect them even as thou protectest thy own senses! There is danger to thee from the race of Bhrigu! All that, however, will take place on a distant day.'"'" SECTION CLVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou always worshippest, O king, Brahmanas of praiseworthy vows. Whatever, however is that fruit seeing which thou worshippest them, O king? O thou of high vows, beholding what prosperity attaching to the worship of the Brahmanas dost thou worship them? Tell me all this, O thou of mighty arms!" "'Bhishma said, "Here is Kesava endued with great intelligence. He will tell thee everything. Of high vows and endued with prosperity, even he will tell you what the prosperity is that attaches to the worship of Brahmanas. My strength, ears, speech, mind, eyes, and that clear understanding of mine (are all clouded today). I think, the time is not distant when I shall have to cast off my body. The sun seems to me to go very slowly.[611] Those high duties, O king, that are mentioned in the Puranas as observed by Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, have all been recited by me. Do thou, O son of Pritha, learn from Krishna what little remains to be learnt on that head. I know Krishna truly. I know who he is and what his ancient might is. O chief of the Kauravas, Kesava is of immeasurable soul. Whenever doubts arise, it is he who upholds Righteousness then.[612] It is Krishna who created the earth, and sky, and the heavens. Indeed, the earth has sprung from Krishna's body. Of terrible prowess and existing from the beginning of time, it is Krishna who became the mighty Boar and raised the submerged Earth. It is He who created all the points of the compass, together with all the mountains. Below Him are the welkin, heaven, the four cardinal points, and the four subsidiary points. It is from him that the entire creation has flowed. It is He who has created this ancient universe. In His navel appeared a Lotus. Within that Lotus sprang Brahma himself of immeasurable energy. It was Brahma, O son of Pritha, who rent that darkness which existed surpassing the very ocean (in depth and extent). In the Treta age, O Partha, Krishna existed (on the earth), in the form of Righteousness. In the Treta age, he existed in the form of Knowledge. In the Dwapara age, he existed in the form of might. In the Kali age he came to the earth in the form of unrighteousness. It is He who in days of yore slew the Daityas. It is He who is the Ancient God. It is He who ruled the Asuras in the form of their Emperor (Valin). It is He who is the Creator of all beings. It is He who is also the future of all created Beings. It is He who is also the protector of this universe fraught with the seed of destruction. When the cause of Righteousness languishes, this Krishna takes birth in the race of either the gods or among men. Staying on Righteousness, this Krishna of cleansed soul (on such occasion) protects both the higher and the lower worlds. Sparing those that deserve to be spared, Krishna sets himself to the slaughter of the Asura, O Partha! It is he who is all acts proper and improper and it is he who is the cause. It is Krishna who is the act done, the act to be done, and the act that is being done. Know that that illustrious one is Rahu and Soma and Sakra. It is he that is Viswakarma. It is he that is of universal form. He is the destroyer and he is the Creator of the universe. He is the wielder of the Sula (lance); He is of human form; and He is of terrible form. All creatures sing his praises, for he is known by his acts. Hundreds of Gandharvas and Apsaras and deities always accompany him. The very Rakshasas hymn his praise. He is the Enhancer of Wealth; He is the one victorious Being in the universe. In Sacrifices, eloquent men hymn His praises. The singers of Samans praise Him by reciting the Rathantaras. The Brahmanas praise Him with Vedic Mantras. It is unto Him that the sacrificial priests pour their libations. The deities with Indra at their head hymned His praise when He lifted up the Gobardhana mountains for protecting the cow-herds of Brindavana against the incessant showers that Indra poured in rage. He is, O Bharata, the one Blessing unto all creatures. He, O Bharata, having entered the old Brahma cave, beheld from that place the original cover of the world in the beginning of Time.[613] Agitating all the Danavas and the Asuras, this Krishna of foremost feats rescued the earth. It is unto Him that people dedicate diverse kinds of food. It is unto Him that the warriors dedicate all kinds of their vehicles at the time of war. He is eternal, and it is under that illustrious one that the welkin, earth, heaven, all things exist and stay. He it is who has caused the vital seed of the gods Mitra and Varuna to fall within a jar, whence sprang the Rishi known by the name of Vasishtha. It is Krishna who is the god of wind; it is He who is the puissant Aswins; it is He who is that first of gods, viz., the sun possessed of a thousand rays. It is He by whom the Asuras have been subjugated. It is He who covered the three worlds with three steps of His. He is the soul of the deities and human beings, and Pitris. It is He who is the Sacrifice performed by those persons that are conversant with the rituals of sacrifices. It is He who rises every day in the firmament (in the form of the sun) and divides Time into day and night, and courses for half the year northwards and for half the year southwards. Innumerable rays of light emanate from Him upwards and downwards and transversely and illumine the earth. Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas adore Him. Taking a portion of His rays the sun shines in the firmament. Month after month, the sacrificer ordains Him as a sacrifice. Regenerate persons conversant with the Vedas sing His praises in sacrifices of all kinds. He it is that constitutes the wheel of the year, having three naves and seven horses to drag it. It is in this way that He supports the triple mansion (of the seasons). Endued with great energy, pervading all things, the foremost of all creatures, it is Krishna who alone upholds all the worlds. He is the sun, the dispeller of all darkness. He is the Creator of all. Do thou, O hero, approach that Krishna! Once on a time, the high-souled and puissant Krishna dwelt, for a while, in the form of Agni in the forest of Khandava among some straw or dry grass. Soon was He gratified (for he consumed all the medicinal herbs in that forest). Capable of going everywhere at will, it was Krishna who, having subjugated the Rakshasas and Uragas, poured them as libations upon the blazing fire. It is Krishna who gave unto Arjuna a number of white steeds. It is He who is the creator of all steeds. This world (or, human life) represents his car. He it is that yokes that car for setting it in motion. That car has three wheels (viz., the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas). It has three kinds of motion (for it goes upwards or downwards or transversely, implying superior, inferior, and intermediate birth as brought about by acts). It has four horses yoked to it (viz., Time, Predestiny, the will of the deities, and one's own will). It has three naves (white, black, and mixed, implying good acts, evil acts and acts that are of a mixed character). It is this Krishna who is the refuge of the five original elements with the sky among them. It is He who created the earth and heaven and the space between. Indeed, it is this Krishna of immeasurable and blazing energy who has created the forests and the mountains. It is this Krishna who, desirous of chastising Sakra who was about to hurl his thunder at him, crossed the rivers and once paralysed him. He is the one great Indra that is adored by the Brahmanas in great sacrifices with the aid of a thousand old Riks. It was this Krishna, O king, who alone was able to keep the Rishi Durvasa of great energy as a guest for some time in his house. He is said to be the one ancient Rishi. He is the Creator of the universe. Indeed, He creates everything from His own nature. Superior to all the deities it is He who teaches all the deities. He scrupulously observes all ancient ordinances. Know, O king, that this Krishna, who is called Vishwaksena, is the fruit of all acts that relate to pleasure, of all acts that are founded on the Vedas, and of all acts that appertain to the world. He is the white rays of light that are seen in all the worlds. He is the three worlds. He is the three Regents of all the worlds. He is the three sacrificial fires. He is the three Vyahritis; indeed, this son of Devaki is all the gods together. He is the year; He is the Seasons; He is the Fortnights; He is the Day and the Night; He is those divisions of time which are called Kalas, and Kashthas, and Matras, and Muhurtas, and Lavas, and Kshanas. Know that this Vishwaksena is all these. The Moon and the Sun, the Planets, the Constellations, and the Stars, all the Parva days, including the day of the full moon, the conjunctions of the constellations and the seasons, have, O son of Pritha, flowed from this Krishna who is Vishwaksena. The Rudras, the Adityas, the Vasus, the Aswins, the Sadhyas, the Viswedevas, the diverse Maruts, Prajapati himself, the mother of the deities, viz., Aditi, and the seven Rishis, have all sprung from Krishna. Transforming Himself into the Wind, He scatters the universe. Of Universal form, He becomes Fire that burns all things. Changing Himself into Water, He drenches and submerges all, and assuming the form of Brahman, He creates all the diverse tribes of animate and inanimate creatures. He is Himself the Veda, yet he learns all the Vedas. He is Himself all the ordinances, yet He observes all the ordinances that have been laid down in matters connected with Righteousness and the Vedas and that force or might which rules the world. Indeed, know, O Yudhishthira, that this Kesava is all the mobile and immobile universe. He is of the form of the most resplendent light. Of universal form, this Krishna is displayed in that blazing effulgence. The original cause of the soul of all existent creatures. He at first created the waters. Afterwards He created this universe. Know that this Krishna is Vishnu. Know that He is the soul of the universe. Know that He is all the seasons; He is these diverse wonderful vegetations of Nature which we see; He is the clouds that pour rain and the lightening that flashes in the sky. He is the elephant Airavata. In fact, He is all the immobile and mobile universe. The abode of the universe and transcending all attributes, this Krishna is Vasudeva. When He becomes Jiva He comes to be called Sankarshana. Next, He transforms Himself into Pradyumna and then into Aniruddha. In this way, the high-souled Krishna, who has Himself for His origin divides (or displays) Himself in fourfold form. Desirous of creating this universe which consists of the fivefold primal elements, He sets himself to his task, and causes it to go on in the fivefold form of animate existence consisting of deities and Asuras and human beings and beasts and birds. He it is that then creates the Earth and the Wind, the Sky, Light, and also Water, O son of Pritha! Having created this universe of immobile and mobile objects distributed into four orders of being (viz., viviparous, oviparous, vegetable and filth-born), he then created the earth with her fivefold seed. He then created the firmament for pouring copious showers of water on the earth.[614] Without doubt, O king, it is this Krishna who has created this universe. His origin is in his own self; it is He who causes all things to exist through his own puissance. He it is that has created the deities, the Asuras, the human beings, the world, the Rishis, the Pitris, and all creatures. Desirous of creating, that Lord of all creatures duly created the whole universe of life. Know that good and evil, mobile and immobile, have all flowed from this One who is Vishwaksena. Whatever exists, and whatever will spring into existence, all is Kesava. This Krishna is also the death that overtakes all creatures when their end comes. He is eternal and it is He who upholds the cause of Righteousness. Whatever existed in the past, and whatever we do not know, verily, all that also is this Vishwaksena. Whatever is noble and meritorious in the universe, indeed, whatever of good and of evil exists, all that is Kesava who is inconceivable. Hence, it is absurd to think of anything that is superior to Kesava. Kesava is even such. More than this, He is Narayana, the highest of the high, immutable and unfading. He is the eternal and immutable cause of the entire mobile and immobile universe with its beginning, middle, and end, as also of all creatures whose birth follows their wish."'" SECTION CLIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Do thou tell us, O slayer of Madhu, what the prosperity is that attaches to the worship of the Brahmanas. Thou art well-conversant with this topic. Verily, our grandsire knows thee." "'Vasudeva said, "Hear, O king, with rapt attention to me, O chief of Bharata's race, as I recite to thee what the merits of the Brahmanas are, in accordance with truth, O foremost one of Kuru's race! Once on a time while I was seated at Dwaravati, O delighter of the Kurus, my son Pradyumna, enraged by certain Brahmanas, came to me and said, 'O slayer of Madhu, what merit attaches to the worship of the Brahmanas? Whence is their lordship derived both here and hereafter? O giver of honours, what rewards are won by constantly worshipping the Brahmanas? Do thou kindly explain this clearly to me, for my mind is disturbed by doubts in respect of this.' When these words were addressed to me by Pradyumna, I answered him as follows. Do thou hear, O king, with close attention, what those words were, 'O child of Rukmin, listen to me as I tell thee what the prosperity is that one may win by worshipping the Brahmanas. When one sets oneself to the acquisition of the well-known aggregate of three (viz., Righteousness, Wealth, and Pleasure), or to the achievement of Emancipation, or to that of fame and prosperity, or to the treatment and cure of disease, or to the worship of the deities and the Pitris, one should take care to gratify the regenerate ones. They are each a king Soma (that sheds such agreeable light in the firmament.) They are dispensers of happiness and misery. O child of Rukmini, whether in this or in the next world, O son, everything agreeable has its origin in the Brahmanas. I have no doubt in this! From the worship of the Brahmanas flow mighty achievements and fame and strength. The denizens of all the worlds, and the Regents of the universe, are all worshippers of Brahmanas. How then, O son, can we disregard them, filled with the idea that we are lords of the earth? O mighty-armed one, do not suffer thy wrath to embrace the Brahmanas as its object. In this as also in the next world, Brahmanas are regarded as beings. They have direct knowledge of everything in the universe. Verily, they are capable of reducing everything into ashes, if angry. They are capable of creating other worlds and other Regents of worlds (than those that exist). Why then should not persons who are possessed of energy and correct knowledge behave with obedience and respect towards them? Formerly, in my house, O son, dwelt the Brahmana Durvasa whose complexion was green and tawny. Clad in rags, he had a stick made of the Vilwa tree.[615] His beard was long and he was exceedingly emaciated. He was taller in stature than the tallest man on earth. Wandering over all the worlds, viz., that which belongs to human beings and those that are for the deities and other superior beings, even this was the verse which he sang constantly among assemblies and in public squares. "Who is there that would cause the Brahmana Durvasa to dwell in his house, doing the duties of hospitality towards him? He becomes enraged with every one if he finds even the slightest transgression. Hearing this regarding my disposition, who is there that will give me refuge? Indeed, he that would give me shelter as a guest should not do anything to anger me!" When I saw that no one ventured to give him shelter in his house, I invited him and caused him to take up his residence in my abode. On certain days he would eat the food sufficient for the needs of thousands of persons. On certain other days he would eat very little. On some days he would go out of my house and would not return. He would sometimes laugh without any ostensible reason and sometimes cry as causelessly. At that time there was nobody on earth that was equal to him in years. One day, entering the quarters assigned to him he burnt all the beds and coverlets and all the well-adorned damsels that were there for serving him. Doing this, he went out. Of highly praiseworthy vows, he met me shortly after this and addressing me, said, "O Krishna, I wish to eat frumenty without delay!" Having understood his mind previously, I had set my servants to prepare every kind of food and drink. Indeed, many excellent viands had been kept ready. As soon as I was asked, I caused hot frumenty to be brought and offered to the ascetic. Having eaten some, he quickly said unto me, "Do thou, O Krishna, take some of this frumenty and smear all thy limbs with it!" Without any scruple I did as directed. Indeed, with the remnant of that frumenty I smeared my body and head. The ascetic at that time saw thy mother of sweet face standing near. Laughing the while, he smeared her body also with that frumenty. The ascetic then caused thy mother, whose body was smeared over with frumenty, to be yoked unto a car without any delay. Ascending that car he set out of my house. Endued with great intelligence, that Brahmana blazed with effulgence like fire, and struck, in my presence, my Rukmini endued with youth, as if she were an animal destined to drag the cars of human beings. Beholding this, I did not feel the slightest grief born of malice or the desire to injure the Rishi. Indeed, having yoked Rukmini to the car, he went out, desirous of proceeding along the high road of the city. Seeing that extraordinary sight, some Dasarhas, filled with wrath, addressed one another and began to converse in this way, "Who else is there on earth that would draw breath after having yoked Rukmini to a car! Verily, let the world be filled with Brahmanas only! Let no other orders take birth here. The poison of a virulent snake is exceedingly keen. Keener than poison is a Brahmana. There is no physician for a person that has been bitten or burnt by the virulent snake of a Brahmana." As the irresistible Durvasa proceeded on the car, Rukmini tottered on the road and frequently fell down. At this the regenerate Rishi became angry and began to urge Rukmini on by striking her with the whip. At last, filled with a towering passion, the Brahmana leapt down from the car, and fled towards the south, running on foot, over a pathless ground. Beholding that foremost of Brahmanas flying along the pathless ground, we followed him, although we were smeared with frumenty, exclaiming behind him, "Be gratified with us, O holy one!" Endued with great energy, the Brahmana, seeing me, said, "O mighty-armed Krishna, thou hast subdued wrath by the strength of thy nature. O thou of excellent vows, I have not found the slightest fault in thee! O Govinda, I have been highly gratified with thee. Do thou solicit the fruition of such wishes as thou pleasest! Behold duly, O son, what the puissance is of myself when I become gratified with any one. As long as deities and human beings will continue to entertain a liking for food, so long will every one among them cherish the same liking for thee that they cherish for their food! As long, again, as there will be Righteousness in the several world, so long will the fame of thy achievements last! Indeed, thy distinction will last so long in the three worlds! O Janardana, agreeable thou shalt be to all persons! Whatever articles of thine have been broken or burnt or otherwise destroyed (by me), thou shalt see restored, O Janardana, to their former state or they will reappear even in a better form! As long, again, O thou of unfading glory, as thou wilt wish to live, so long wilt thou have no fear of death assailing thee through such parts of thy body as have been smeared with the frumenty I gave thee! O son, why didst thou not smear that frumenty on the soles of thy feet as well? By not doing it, thou have acted in a way that is not approved by me!" Even these were the words that he said, well-pleased with me on that occasion. After he had ceased speaking, I saw that my body became endued with great beauty and splendour. Unto Rukmini also, the Rishi, well-pleased with her, said, "O beautiful lady, thou shalt be the foremost one of thy sex in fame, and great glory and achievements will be thine. Decrepitude or disease or loss of complexion will never be thine! Every one will see thee engaged in waiting upon Krishna, possessed as thou already art with a fragrant odour which is always present in thee. Thou shalt become the foremost of all spouses, numbering sixteen thousand, O Kesava. At last, when the time comes for thy departure from the world, thou shalt attain to the inseparable companionship of Krishna hereafter!" Having said these words unto thy mother, the Rishi once more addressed me and uttering following words, left the spot. Indeed, the Rishi Durvasa, blazing like a fire, said, "O Kesava, let thy understanding be always disposed even thus towards the Brahmana!" Verily after uttering these words, that Brahmana disappeared there and then before my eyes. After his disappearance I took to the observance of the vow of uttering certain Mantras silently without being heard by anybody. Verily, from that day I resolved to accomplish whatever behests I should receive from the Brahmanas. Having adopted this vow, O son, along with thy mother, both of us, with hearts filled with joy re-entered our palace. Entering our house I saw that everything which the Rishi had broken or burnt had reappeared and become new. Beholding those new articles, which had besides become more durable, I became filled with wonder. Verily, O son of Rukmini, from that day forth I have always worshipped the Brahmanas in my mind!' Even this, O chief of Bharata's race, is what I said on that occasion regarding the greatness of those Brahmanas who are the foremost of their order. Do thou also, O son of Kunti, worship the highly blessed Brahmanas every day with gifts of wealth and kine, O puissant one! It was in this way that I acquired the prosperity I enjoy, the prosperity that is born of the grace of Brahmanas. Whatever, again, Bhishma has said of me, O chief of the Bharatas, is all true!"'" SECTION CLX "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth thee, O slayer of Madhu, to expound to me that knowledge which thou hast acquired through the grace of Durvasa! O foremost of all persons endued with intelligence, I desire to know everything about the high blessedness and all the names of that high-souled one truly and in detail!"[616] "'Vasudeva said, "I shall recite to thee the good that I have acquired and the fame that I have won through the grace of that high-souled one. Verily, I shall discourse to thee on the topic, after having bowed unto Kapardin. O king, listen to me as I recite to thee that Sata-rudriya which I repeat with restrained senses, every morning after rising from bed. The great lord of all creatures, viz., the Grandsire Brahman himself, endued with wealth of penances, composed those Mantras, after having observed especial penances for some time. O sire it is Sankara who created all the creatures in the universe, mobile and immobile. There is no being that is higher, O monarch, than Mahadeva. Verily, he is the highest of all beings in the three worlds. There is no one who is capable of standing before that high-souled Being. Indeed, there is no Being in the three worlds that can be regarded as his equal. When he stands, filled with rage, on the field of battle, the very odour of his body deprives all foes of consciousness and they that are not slain tremble and fall down. His roars are terrible, resembling those of the clouds. Hearing those roars in battle, the very hearts of the deities break in twain. When the wielder of Pinaka becomes angry and assuming a terrible form merely casts his eye upon deity, Asura, Gandharva, or snake, that individual fails to obtain peace of mind by taking shelter in the recesses of even a mountain-cave. When that lord of all creatures, viz., Daksha, desirous of performing a sacrifice, spread his sacrifice out, the dauntless Bhava, giving way to wrath (at Daksha's slight of him), pierced (the embodied) sacrifice, shooting his shaft from his terrible bow, he roared aloud. Indeed, when Maheswara became angry and suddenly pierced with his shaft the embodied form of sacrifice, the deities become filled with grief, losing happiness and tranquillity of heart. In consequence of the twang of his bow-string the whole universe became agitated. The deities and the Asuras, O son of Pritha, all became cheerless and stupefied. The ocean rolled in agitation and the earth trembled to her centre. The hills and mountains began to move from their bases and ran on every side. The vault of the welkin became cracked. All the worlds became enveloped in gloom. Nothing could be seen. The light of all the luminaries became darkened, along with that of the sun himself, O Bharata! The great Rishis, penetrated with fear and desirous of doing good to themselves and the universe, performed the usual rites of propitiation and peace. Meanwhile, Rudra of terrible prowess rushed against the deities. Filled with rage, he tore out the eyes of Bhaga. Incensed with wrath, he assailed Pushan with his foot. He tore out the teeth of that god as he sat employed in eating the large sacrificial ball (called Purodasa). Trembling with fear, the deities bent their heads to Sankara. Without being appeased, Rudra once more placed on his bow-string a sharp and blazing arrow. Beholding his prowess, the deities and the Rishis became all alarmed. Those foremost of gods began to pacify him! Joining their hands in reverence, they began to recite the Sata-rudriya Mantras. At last Maheswara, thus praised by the deities, became gratified. The deities than assigned a large share (of the sacrificial offerings) to him. Trembling with fear, O king, they sought his protection. When Rudra became gratified, the embodiment of sacrifice, which had been pierced in twain, became once more united. Whatever limbs of his had been destroyed by the shafts of Mahadeva, became once more whole and sound. The Asuras possessed of great energy had in days of yore three cities in the firmament. One of these had been made of iron, one of silver, and the third of gold. With all his weapons, Maghavat, the chief of the deities, was unable to pierce those cities. Afflicted by the Asuras, all the deities then sought the protection of the great Rudra. Assembled together the high-souled deities addressed him, saying, 'O Rudra, the Asuras threaten to exert their destructive influence in all acts! Do thou slay the Daityas and destroy their city for the protection of the three worlds, O giver of honours!' Thus addressed by them, he replied, saying, 'So be it!' and then made Vishnu his excellent shaft-head. He made the deity of fire his shaft-reed, and Surya's son Yama the wings of that shaft. He made the Vedas his bow and the goddess Savitri his excellent bow-string. And he made the Grandsire Brahma his charioteer. Applying all these, he pierced the triple city of the Asuras with that shaft of his, consisting of three Parvans and three Salyas.[617] Indeed, O Bharata, the Asuras with their cities, were all burnt by Rudra with that shaft of his whose complexion was like that of the sun and whose energy resembled that of the fire which appears at the end of the Yuga for consuming all things. Beholding that Mahadeva changed into a child with five locks of hair lying on the lap of Parvati, the latter asked the deities as to who he was. Seeing the child, Sakra became suddenly filled with jealousy and wrath and resolved to kill him with his thunder. The child, however, paralysed the arm, looking like a mace of iron, of Indra with the thunderbolt in it. The deities all became stupefied, and they could not understand that the child was the Lord of universe. Verily, all of them along with the very Regents of the world, found their intellects stupefied in the matter of that child who was none else than the Supreme Being. Then the illustrious Grandsire Brahma, reflecting with the aid of his penances, found out that that child was the foremost of all Beings, the lord of Uma, Mahadeva of immeasurable prowess. He then praised the Lord. The deities also began to hymn the praises of both Uma and Rudra. The arm (which had been paralysed) of the slayer of Vala then became restored to its former state. The Mahadeva, taking birth as the Brahmana Durvasa of great energy, resided for a long time at Dwaravati in my house. While residing in my abode he did diverse acts of mischief. Though difficult of being borne, I bore them yet from magnanimity of heart. He is Rudra; he is Shiva; he is Agni; he is Sarva; he is the vanquisher of all; he is Indra, and Vayu, and the Aswins and the god of lightning. He is Chandramas; he is Isana; he is Surya; he is Varuna; he is Time; he is the Destroyer; he is Death; he is the Day and the Night; he is the fortnight; he is the seasons; he is the two twilights; he is the year. He is Dhatri and he is Vidhatri; and he is Viswakarma; and he is conversant with all things. He is the cardinal points of the compass and the subsidiary points also. Of universal form, he is of immeasurable soul. The holy and illustrious Durvasa is of the complexion of the celestials. He sometimes manifests himself singly; sometimes divides himself into two portions; and sometimes exhibits himself in many, a hundred thousand forms. Even such is Mahadeva. He is, again, that god who is unborn. In even a hundred years one cannot exhaust his merits by reciting them."'" SECTION CLXI "'Vasudeva said, "O mighty-armed Yudhishthira, listen to me as I recite to thee the many names of Rudra as also the high blessedness of that high-souled one. The Rishis describe Mahadeva as Agni, and Sthanu, and Maheswara; as one-eyed, and three-eyed, of universal form, and Siva or highly auspicious. Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas say that that god has two forms. One of these is terrible, and the other mild and auspicious. Those two forms, again, are subdivided into many forms. That form which is fierce and terrible is regarded as identical with Agni and Lightning and Surya. The other form which is mild and auspicious is identical with Righteousness and water and Chandramas. Then, again, it is said that half his body is fire and half is Soma (or the moon). That form of his which is mild and auspicious is said to be engaged in the practice of the Brahmacharya vow. The other form of his which is supremely terrible is engaged in all operations of destruction in the universe. Because he is great (Mahat) and the Supreme Lord of all (Iswara), therefore he is called Maheswara. And since he burns and oppresses, is keen and fierce, and endued with great energy, and is engaged in eating flesh and blood and marrow, he is said to be Rudra. Since he is the foremost of all the deities, and since his dominion and acquisitions are very extensive, and since he protects the extensive universe, therefore he is called Mahadeva. Since he is of the form or colour of smoke, therefore he is called Dhurjati. Since by all his acts he performs sacrifices for all and seeks the good of every creature, therefore he is called Siva or the auspicious one. Staying above (in the sky) he burns the lives of all creatures and is, besides, fixed in a particular route from which he does not deviate. His emblem, again, is fixed and immovable for all time. He is, for these reasons, called Sthanu. He is also of multiform aspect. He is present, past, and future. He is mobile and immobile. For this he is called Vahurupa (of multiform aspect). The deities called Viswedevas reside in his body. He is, for this, called Viswarupa (of universal form). He is thousand-eyed; or, he is myriad-eyed; or, he has eyes on all sides and on every part of his body. His energy issues through his eyes. There is no end of his eyes. Since he always nourishes all creatures and sports also with them, and since he is their lord or master, therefore he is called Pasupati (the lord of all creatures). Since his emblem is always observant of the vow of Brahmacharya, all the worlds worship it accordingly. This act of worship is said to gratify him highly. If there is one who worship him by creating his image, another who worships his emblem, the latter it is that attains to great prosperity for ever. The Rishis, the deities, the Gandharvas, and the Apsaras, worship that emblem of his which is ever erect and upraised. If his emblem is worshipped, Maheswara becomes highly gratified with the worshipper. Affectionate towards his devotees, he bestows happiness upon them with a cheerful soul. This great god loves to reside in crematoria and there he burns and consumes all corpses. Those persons that perform sacrifices on such grounds attain at the end to those regions which have been set apart for heroes. Employed in his legitimate function, he it is that is regarded as the Death that resides in the bodies of all creatures. He is, again, those breaths called Prana and Apana in the bodies of all embodied beings. He has many blazing and terrible forms. All those forms are worshipped in the world and are known to Brahmanas possessed of knowledge. Amongst the gods he has many names all of which are fraught with grave import. Verily, the meanings of those names are derived from either his greatness or vastness, or his feats, or his conduct. The Brahmanas always recite the excellent Sata-rudriya in his honour, that occurs in the Vedas as also that which has been composed by Vyasa. Verily, the Brahmanas and Rishis call him the eldest of all beings. He is the first of all the deities, and it was from his mouth that he created Agni. That righteous-souled deity, ever willing to grant protection to all, never gives up his suppliants. He would much rather abandon his own life-breaths and incur all possible afflictions himself. Long life, health and freedom from disease, affluence, wealth, diverse kinds of pleasures and enjoyments, are conferred by him, and it is he also who snatches them away. The lordship and affluence that one sees in Sakra and the other deities are verily his. It is he who is always engaged in all that is good and evil in the three worlds. In consequence of his fullest control over all objects of enjoyment he is called Iswara (the Supreme Lord or Master). Since, again, he is the master of the vast universe, he is called Maheswara. The whole universe is pervaded by him in diverse forms. It is that deity whose mouth roars and burns the waters of the sea in the form of the huge mare's head!"'"[618] SECTION CLXII "Vaisampayana said, 'After Krishna, the son of Devaki, had said these words, Yudhishthira once more asked Bhishma the son of Santanu, saying, "O thou of great intelligence, O foremost of all persons conversant with duties, which, indeed, of the two, direct perception and the scriptures, is to be regarded as authority for arriving at a conclusion?" "'Bhishma said, "I think, there is no doubt in this. Listen to me, O thou of great wisdom! I shall answer thee. The question thou hast asked is certainly proper. It is easy to cherish doubt. But the solution of that doubt is difficult. Innumerable are the instances, in respect of both direct perception and audition (or the scriptures), in which doubts may arise. Certain persons, who delight in the name of logicians, verily imagining themselves to be possessed of superior wisdom, affirm that direct perception is the only authority. They assert that nothing, however true, is existent which is not directly perceivable; or, at least they doubt the existence of those objects. Indeed, such assertions involve an absurdity and they who make them are of foolish understanding, whatever may be their pride of learning. If, on the other hand, thou doubtest as to how the one (indivisible Brahman) could be the cause, I answer that one would understand it only after a long course of years and with the assistance of Yoga practised without idleness. Indeed, O Bharata, one that lives according to such means as present themselves (without, i.e., one's being wedded to this or that settled mode of life), and one that is devoted (to the solution of the question), would be capable of understanding it. None else, truly, is competent for comprehending it. When one attains to the very end of reasons (or reasoning processes), one then attains to that excellent and all comprehending knowledge--that vast mass of effulgence which illumines all the universe (called Brahma). That knowledge, O king, which is derived from reason (or inferences) can scarcely be said to be knowledge. Such knowledge should be rejected. It should be noted that it is not defined or comprehended by the word. It should, therefore, be rejected!"[619] "'Yudhisthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, which among these (four) is most authoritative, viz., direct perception, inference from observation, the science of Agama or scriptures, and diverse kinds of practices that distinguish the good." "'Bhishma said, "While Righteousness is sought to be destroyed by wicked persons possessed of great might, it is capable of being protected for the time being by those that are good exerting themselves with care and earnestness. Such protection, however, avails not in the long run, for destruction does overtake Righteousness at the end. Then, again, Righteousness often proves a mask for covering Unrighteousness, like grass and straw covering the mouth of a deep pit and concealing it from the view. Hear, again, O Yudhisthira! In consequence of this, the practices of the good are interfered with and destroyed by the wicked. Those persons who are of evil conduct, who discard the Srutis--indeed, those wicked wights who are haters of Righteousness,--destroy that good course of conduct (which could otherwise be set up as a standard). Hence, doubts attach to direct perception, inference, and good conduct.[620] Those, therefore, among the good that are possessed of understanding born of (or cleansed by) the scriptures and that are ever contented, are to be regarded as the foremost. Let those that are anxious and deprived of tranquillity of soul, approach these. Indeed, O Yudhishthira, do thou pay court to them and seek of them the solutions of thy doubt![621] Disregarding both pleasure and wealth which always follow cupidity and awakened into the belief that only Righteousness should be sought, do thou, O Yudhishthira, wait upon and ask those persons (for enlightening thyself). The conduct of those persons never goes wrong or meets with destruction, as also their sacrifices and Vedic study and rites. Indeed, these three, viz., conduct as consisting of overt acts, behaviour in respect of (mental) purity, and the Vedas together constitute Righteousness." "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, my understanding is once more stupefied by doubt. I am on this side the ocean, employed in searching after the means of crossing it. I do not, however, behold the other shore of the ocean! If these three, viz., the Vedas, direct perception (or acts that are seen), and behaviour (or, mental purity) together constitute what is to be regarded as authority, it can be alleged that there is difference between them. Righteousness then becomes really of three kinds, although it is one and indivisible." "'Bhishma said, "Righteousness is sometimes seen to be destroyed by wicked wights of great power. If thou thinkest, O king, that Righteousness should really be of three kinds, my reply is that thy conclusion is warranted by reason. The truth is that Righteousness is one and indivisible, although it is capable of being viewed from three different points. The paths (indications) of those three that constitute the foundation of Righteousness have each been laid down. Do thou act according to the instructions laid down. Thou shouldst never wrangle about Righteousness and then seek to have those doubts solved into which thou mayst arrive. O chief of the Bharatas, let no doubts like these ever take possession of thy mind! Do thou obey what I say without scruple of any kind. Follow me like a blind man or like one who, without being possessed of sense himself, has to depend upon that of another. Abstention from injury, truth, absence of wrath (or forgiveness), and liberality of gifts,--these four, O king, that hast no foe, do thou practise, for these four constitute eternal Righteousness! Do thou also, O mighty-armed prince, pursue that conduct towards the Brahmanas which is consistent with what has been observed towards them by thy sires and grandsires. These are the principal indications of Righteousness. That man of little intelligence who would destroy the weight of authority by denying that to be a standard which has always been accepted as such would himself fail to become an authority among men. Such a man becomes the cause of much grief in the world. Do thou reverence the Brahmanas and treat them with hospitality. Do thou always serve them in this way. The universe rests on them. Do thou understand them to be such!" "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what the respective ends are of those that hate Righteousness and of those that adore and observe it!" "'Bhishma said, "Those men that hate Righteousness are said to have their hearts overwhelmed by the attributes of passion and darkness. Such men have always to go to Hell. Those men, on the other hand, O monarch, who always adore and observe Righteousness, those men who are devoted to truth and sincerity, are called good. They always enjoy the pleasures or felicity of heaven. In consequence of their waiting upon their preceptors with reverence their hearts always turn towards Righteousness. Verily, they who adore Righteousness attain to the regions of the deities. Those individuals, whether human beings or deities who divest themselves of cupidity and malice and who emaciate or afflict their bodies by the observance of austerities, succeed, in consequence of the Righteousness which then becomes theirs to attain to great felicity. Those that are gifted with wisdom have said that the Brahmanas, who are the eldest sons of Brahmana, represent Righteousness. They that are righteous always worship them, their hearts regarding them with as much love and affection as a hungry man's stomach entertains for ripe and delicious fruits." "'Yudhishthira said, "What is the appearance presented by those that are wicked, and what are those acts which they that are called good are to do? Explain to me this, O holy one! Indeed, tell me what the indications are of the good and the wicked." "'Bhishma said, "They that are wicked are evil in their practices, ungovernable or incapable of being kept within the restraints of rules, and foul mouthed. They, on the other hand, that are good, are always good in their acts. Verily, the acts these men do are regarded as the indications of that course of conduct which is called good. They that are good or righteous, O monarch, never answer the two calls of nature on the public road, or in the midst of a cow-pen, or on a field of paddy. After feeding the five they take their own food.[622] They never talk while eating, and never go to sleep with wet hands (i.e., without rubbing them dry with towels or napkins). Whenever they see any of the following, they circumambulate them for showing them reverence, viz., a blazing fire, a bull, the image of a deity, a cow-pen, a place where four roads meet, and an old and virtuous Brahmana. They give the way, themselves standing aside, unto those that are old, those that are afflicted with burdens, ladies, those that hold high appointments in the village or town administration, Brahmanas, kine, and kings. The righteous or good man is he that protects his guests, servants and other dependents, his own relatives, and all those that seek his protection. Such a man always welcomes these with the usual enquiries of politeness. Two times have been appointed by the deities for human beings to take their food, viz., morning and evening. During the interval one should not eat anything. By following this rule about eating, one is said to observe a fast. As the sacred fire waits for libations to be poured upon it when the hour for Homa arrives, even so a woman, when her functional period is over, expects an act of congress with her husband. One that never approaches one's spouses at any other time save after the functional period, is said to observe the vow of Brahmacharya. Amrita (nectar), Brahmanas, and kine,--these three are regarded as equal. Hence, one should always worship, with due rites, Brahmanas and kine. One does not incur any fault or stain by eating the meat of animals slain in sacrifices with the aid of Tantras from the Yajur Veda. The flesh of the back-bone, or that of animals not slain in sacrifice, should be avoided even as one avoids the flesh of one's own son. One should never cause one's guest to go without food whether when one resides in one's own country or in a foreign land. After completing one's study one should present the Dakshina unto one's preceptor. When one sees one's preceptor, one should congratulate him with reverence and worshipping him present him a seat. By worshipping one's preceptor, one increases the period of one's life as also one's fame and prosperity. One should never censure the old, nor send them on any business[623]. One should never be seated when any one that is old is standing. By acting in this way one protects the duration of one's life. One should never cast one's eyes on a naked woman, nor a naked man. One should never indulge in sexual congress except in privacy. One should eat also without being seen by others. Preceptors are the foremost of Tirthas; the heart is the foremost of all sacred objects; knowledge is the foremost of all objects of search; and contentment is the foremost of all happiness. Morning and evening one should listen to the grave counsels of those that are aged. One attains to wisdom by constant waiting upon those that are venerable for years. While reading the Vedas or employed in eating, one should use one's right hand. One should always keep one's speech and mind under thorough control, as also one's senses. With well-cooked frumenty, Yavaka, Krisara, and Havi (clarified butter), one should worship the Pitris and the deities in the Sraddha called Ashtaka. The same should be used in worshipping the Planets. One should not undergo a shave without calling down a blessing upon oneself. If one sneezes, one should be blessed by those present. All that are ill or afflicted with disease, should be blessed. The extension of their lives should be prayed for.[624] One should never address an eminent person familiarly (by using the word Twam). Under even the great difficulties one should never do this. To address such a person as Twam and to slay him are equal, persons of learning are degraded by such a style of address. Unto those that are inferior, or equal, or unto disciples, such a word can be used. The heart of the sinful man always proclaims the sins he has committed. Those men who have deliberately committed sins meet with destruction by seeking to conceal them from the good. Indeed, they that are confirmed sinners seek to conceal their sinful acts from others.[625] Such persons think that their sins are witnessed by neither men nor the deities. The sinful man, overwhelmed by his sins, takes birth in a miserable order of being. The sins of such a man continually grow, even as the interest the usurer charge (on the loans he grants) increase from day to day. If, having committed a sin, one seeks to have it covered by righteousness, that sin becomes destroyed and leads to righteousness instead of other sins.[626] If a quantity of water be poured upon salt, the latter immediately dissolves away. Even so when expiation is performed, sin dissolves away. For these reasons one should never conceal a sin. Concealed, it is certain to increase. Having committed a sin, one should confess it in the presence of those that are good. They would destroy it immediately. If one does not enjoy in good time what one has stored with hope, the consequence is that the stored wealth finds another owner after the death of him who has stored it. The wise have said that the mind of every creature is the true test of Righteousness. Hence, all creatures in the world have an innate tendency to achieve Righteousness. One should achieve Righteousness alone or single-handed. Verily, one should not proclaim oneself Righteous and walk with the standard of Righteousness borne aloft for purpose of exhibition. They are said to be traders in Righteousness who practise it for enjoying the fruits it brings about. One should adore the deities without giving way to sentiments of pride. Similarly, one should serve one's preceptor without deceit. One should make arrangements for securing to oneself invaluable wealth in the hereafter which consists in gifts made here to deserving persons."'" SECTION CLXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "It is seen that if a person happens to be unfortunate, he fails to acquire wealth, how great so ever his strength. On the other hand, if one happens to be fortunate, he comes to the possession of wealth, even if he be a weakling or a fool. When, again, the time does not come for acquisition, one cannot make an acquisition with even one's best exertion. When, however, the time comes for acquisition, one wins great wealth without any exertion. Hundreds of men may be seen who achieve no result even when they exert their best. Many persons, again, are seen to make acquisitions without any exertion. If wealth were the result of exertion, then one could, with exertion, acquire it immediately. Verily, if the case were so, no man of learning could then be seen to take the protection for the sake of his livelihood, of one destitute of learning. Among men, that which is not (destined) to be attained, O chief of the Bharatas, is never attained. Men are seen to fail in achieving results even with the aid of their best exertions. One may be seen to seek wealth by hundreds of means (and yet failing to acquire it); while another, without at all seeking it, becomes happy in its possession. Men may be seen doing evil acts continually (for wealth) and yet failing to acquire it. Others are in the enjoyment of wealth without doing any evil act whatever. Others, again, who are observant of the duties assigned to them by the scriptures, are without wealth. One may be seen to be without any knowledge of the science of morals and policy even after one has studied all the treatises on that science. One, again, may be seen appointed as the prime minister of a king without having at all studied the science of morals and policy. A learned man may be seen that is possessed of wealth. One destitute of learning may be seen owning wealth. Both kinds of men, again, may be seen to be entirely destitute of wealth. If, by the acquisition of learning one could acquire the happiness of wealth, then no man of learning could be found living, for the very means of his subsistence, under the protection of one destitute of learning. Indeed, if one could obtain by the acquisition of learning, all desirable objects like a thirsty individual having his thirst slaked upon obtaining water, then none in this world would have shown idleness in acquiring learning. If one's time has not come, one does not die even if one be pierced with hundreds of shafts. On the other hand, one lays down one's life, if one's hour has come, even if it be a blade of grass with which one is struck." "'Bhishma said, "If one, setting oneself to undertaking involving even great exertions, fails to earn wealth, one should then practise severe austerities. Unless seeds be sown, no crops appear. It is by making gifts (to deserving persons in this life) that one acquires (in one's next life) numerous objects of enjoyment, even as one becomes possessed of intelligence and wisdom by waiting upon those that are venerable for years. The wise have said that one becomes possessed of longevity by practising the duty of abstention from cruelty to all creatures. Hence, one should make gifts and not solicit (or accept them when made by others). One should worship those individuals that are righteous. Verily, one should be sweet-speeched towards all, and always do what is agreeable to others. One should seek to attain to purity (both mental and external). Indeed, one should always abstain from doing injury to any creature. When in the matter of the happiness and woe of even insects and ants, their acts (of this and past lives) and Nature constitute the cause, it is meet, O Yudhishthira, that thou shouldst be tranquil!"'"[627] SECTION CLXIV "'Bhishma said, "If one does acts oneself that are good or causes others to accomplish them, one should then expect to attain to the merits of righteousness. Similarly, if one does acts oneself that are evil, and causes others to accomplish them, one should never expect to attain to the merits of righteousness.[628] At all times, it is Time that, entering the understandings of all creatures, sets them to acts of righteousness or unrighteousness, and then confer felicity or misery upon them. When a person, beholding the fruits of Righteousness, understands Righteousness to be superior, it is then that he inclines towards Righteousness and puts faith in it. One, however, whose understanding is not firm, fails to put faith in it. As regards faith in Righteousness, it is this (and nothing else). To put faith in Righteousness is the indication of the wisdom of all persons. One that is acquainted with both (i.e., what should be done and what should not be done), with a view to opportuneness, should, with care and devotion, achieve what is right. Those Righteous men who have in this life been blessed with affluence, acting of their own motion, take particular care of their souls so that they may not, in their next lives, have to take birth as persons with the attribute of Passion predominating in them. Time (which is the supreme disposer of all things) can never make Righteousness the cause of misery. One should, therefore, know that the soul which is righteous is certainly pure (i.e., freed from the element of evil and misery). As regards Unrighteousness, it may be said that, even when of large proportions, it is incapable of even touching Righteousness which is always protected by Time and which shines like a blazing fire. These are the two results achieved by Righteousness, viz., the stainlessness of the soul and unsusceptibility of being touched by Unrighteousness. Verily, Righteousness is fraught with victory. Its effulgence is so great that it illumines the three worlds. A man of wisdom cannot catch hold of a sinful person and forcibly cause him to become righteous. When seriously urged to act righteously, the sinful only act with hypocrisy, impelled by fear. They that are righteous among the Sudras never betake themselves to such hypocrisy under the plea that persons of the Sudra order are not permitted to live according to any of the four prescribed modes. I shall tell thee particularly what the duties truly are of the four orders. So far as their bodies are concerned, the individuals belonging to all the four orders have the five primal elements for the constituent ingredients. Indeed, in this respect, they are all of the same substance. For all that, distinctions exist between them in respect of both practices relating to life or the world and the duties of righteousness. Notwithstanding these distinctions, sufficient liberty of action is left to them in consequence of which all individuals may attain to an equality of condition. The regions of felicity which represent the consequences or rewards of Righteousness are not eternal, for they are destined to come to an end. Righteousness, however, is eternal. When the cause is eternal, why is the effect not so?[629] The answer to this is as follows. Only that Righteousness is eternal which is not promoted by the desire of fruit or reward. (That Righteous, however, which is prompted by the desire of reward, is not eternal. Hence, the reward though undesired that attaches to the first kind of Righteousness, viz., attainment of identity with Brahman, is eternal. The reward, however, that attaches to that Righteousness prompted by desire of fruit. Heaven is not eternal).[630] All men are equal in respect of their physical organism. All of them, again, are possessed of souls that are equal in respect of their nature. When dissolution comes, all else dissolve away. What remains is the inceptive will to achieve Righteousness. That, indeed, reappears (in next life) of itself.[631] When such is the result (that is, when the enjoyments and endurance of this life are due to the acts of a past life), the inequality of lot discernible among human beings cannot be regarded in any way anomalous. So also, it is seen that those creatures that belong to the intermediate orders of existence are equally subject, in the matter of their acts, to the influence of example."'" SECTION CLXV "Vaisampayana said, 'That perpetuator of Kuru's race, viz., Yudhishthira the son of Pandu, desirous of obtaining such good as is destructive of sins, questioned Bhishma who was lying on a bed of arrows, (in the following words).' "'Yudhishthira said, "What, indeed, is beneficial for a person in this world? What is that by doing which one may earn happiness? By what may one be cleansed of all one's sins? Indeed, what is that which is destructive of sins?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'In this connection, the royal son of Santanu, O foremost of men, duly recited the names of the deities unto Yudhishthira who was desirous of hearing.' "'Bhishma said, "O son, the following names of the deities with those of the Rishis, if duly recited morning, noon, and evening, become efficacious cleansers of all sins. Acting with the aid of one's senses (or knowledge and action), whatever sins one may commit by day or by night or by the two twilights, consciously, or unconsciously one is sure to be cleansed therefrom and become thoroughly pure by reciting these names. One that takes those names has never to become blind or deaf; indeed, by taking those names, one always succeeds in attaining to what is beneficial. Such a man never takes birth in the intermediate order of beings, never goes to hell, and never becomes a human being of any of the mixed castes. He has never to fear the accession of any calamity. When death comes, he never becomes stupefied. The master of all the deities and Asuras, resplendent with effulgence, worshipped by all creatures, inconceivable, indescribable, the life of all living beings, and unborn, is the Grandsire Brahma, the Lord of the universe. His chaste spouse is Savitri. Then comes that origin of the Vedas, the creator Vishnu, otherwise called Narayana of immeasurable puissance. Then comes the three-eyed Lord of Uma; then Skanda the generalissimo of the celestial forces; then Visakha; then Agni the eater of sacrificial libations; then Vayu the god of wind; then Chandramas; then Aditya the god of the sun, endued with effulgence; then the illustrious Sakra the lord of Sachi; and Yama with his spouse Dhumorna; and Varuna with Gauri; Kuvera the lord of treasures, with his spouse Riddhi; the amiable and illustrious cow Surabhi; the great Rishi Visravas; Sankalpa, Ocean, Ganga; the other sacred Rivers; the diverse Maruts; the Valkhilyas crowned with success of penances; the island-born Krishna; Narada; Parvata; Viswavasu; the Hahas; the Huhus; Tumvuru; Chitrasena; the celestial messenger of wide celebrity; the highly blessed celestial maidens, the celestial Apsaras, Urvasi, Menaka, Rambha; Misrakesi, Alamvusha, Viswachi, Ghritachi, Panchachuda, Tilottama; the Adityas, the Vasus, the Aswins, the Pitris; Dharma (Righteousness); Vedic lore, Penances, Diksha, Perseverance (in religious acts), the Grandsire, Day and Night, Kasyapa the son of Marichi, Sukra, Vrihaspati, Mangala the son of Earth, Vudha, Rahu, Sanischara, the Constellations, the Seasons, the Months, the Fortnights, the Year, Garuda, the son of Vinata, the several Oceans, the sons of Kadru, viz., the Snakes, Satadru, Vipasa, Chandrabhaga, Saraswati, Sindhu, Devika, Prabhasa, the lakes of Pushkara, Ganga, Mahanadi, Vena, Kaveri, Narmada, Kulampuna Visalya, Karatoya, Amvuvahini, Sarayu, Gandaki, the great river Lohita, Tamra, Aruna, Vetravati, Parnasa, Gautami, the Godavari, Vena, Krishnavena, Dwija, Drishadvati, Kaveri, Vankhu, Mandakini Prayaga, Prabhasa, the sacred Naimisha, the spot sacred to Visweswara or Mahadeva, viz., Kasi, that lake of crystal water, Kurukshetra full of many sacred waters, the foremost of oceans (viz., the ocean of milk), Penances, Gifts, Jamvumarga, Hiranwati, Vitasta, the river Plakshavati, Vedasmriti, Vedavati, Malava, Aswavati, all sacred spots on Earth, Gangadwara, the sacred Rishikulya, the river Chitravaha, the Charmanwati, the sacred river Kausiki, the Yamuna, the river Bhimarathi, the great river Vahuda, Mahendravani, Tridiva Nilika, Saraswati, Nanda, the other Nanda, the large sacred lake, Gaya, Phalgutirtha Dharmarayana (the sacred forest) that is peopled with the deities, the sacred celestial river, the lake created by the Grandsire Brahma which is sacred and celebrated over the three worlds, and auspicious and capable of cleansing all sins, the Himavat mountain endued with excellent herbs, the Vindhya mountain variegated with diverse kinds of metals, containing many Tirthas and overgrown with medicinal herbs, Meru, Mahendra, Malaya, Sweta endued with silver, Sringavat, Mandara, Nila, Nishada, Dardurna, Chitrakuta, Anjanabha, the Gandhamadana mountains; the sacred Somagiri, the various other mountains, the cardinal points of the compass, the subsidiary points, the Earth, all the trees, the Viswedevas, the Firmament, the Constellations, the Planets, and the deities,--let these all, named and unnamed, rescue and cleanse us! The man who takes the names of these becomes cleansed of all his sins. By hymning their praises and gratifying them, one becomes freed from every fear. Verily, the man who delights in uttering the hymns in praise of the deities becomes cleansed of all such sins as lead to birth in impure orders. After this recital of the deities, I shall name those learned Brahmanas crowned with ascetic merit and success and capable of cleaning one of every sin. They are Yavakrita and Raibhya and Kakshivat and Aushija, and Bhrigu and Angiras and Kanwa, and the puissant Medhatithi, and Varhi possessed of every accomplishment. These all belong to the eastern region. Others, viz., Unmuchu, Pramuchu, all highly blessed, Swastyatreya of great energy, Agastya of great prowess, the son of Mitra and Varuna; Dridhayu and Urdhavahu, those two foremost and celebrated of Rishis,--these live in the southern region. Listen now to me as I name those Rishis that dwell in the western region. They are Ushango with his uterine brothers, Parivyadha of great energy, Dirghatamas, Gautama, Kasyapa, Ekata, Dwita, Trita, the righteous-souled son of Atri (viz., Durvasa), and puissant Saraswat. Listen now to me as I name those Rishis that worship the deities in sacrifices, dwelling in the northern region. They are Atri, Vasishtha, Saktri, Parasara's son Vyasa of great energy; Viswamitra, Bharadwaja, Jamadagni, the son of Richika, Rama, Auddalaka, Swetaketu, Kohala, Vipula, Devala, Devasarman, Dhaumya, Hastikasyapa, Lomasa, Nachiketa, Lomaharsana, Ugrasravas, and Bhrigu's son Chyavana. This is the tale of Rishis possessed of Vedic lore. They are primeval Rishis, O king, whose names, if taken, are capable of cleansing one of every sin. After this I shall recite the names of the principal kings. They are Nriga, Yayati, Nahusha, Yadu, Puru of great energy, Sagara, Dhundhumara, Dilipa of great prowess, Krisaswa, Yauvanaswa, Chitraswa, Satyavat, Dushmanta, Bharata who became an illustrious Emperor over many kings, Yavana, Janaka, Dhrishtaratha, Raghu, that foremost of kings, Dasaratha, the heroic Rama, that slayer of Rakshasas, Sasavindu. Bhagiratha, Harischandra, Marutta, Dridharatha, the highly fortunate Alarka, Aila, Karandhama, that foremost of men, Kasmira, Daksha, Amvarisha, Kukura, Raivata of great fame, Kuru, Samvarana, Mandhatri of unbaffled prowess, the royal sage Muchukunda, Jahnu who was much favoured by Janhavi (Ganga), the first (in point of time) of all kings, viz., Prithu the son of Vena, Mitrabhanu, Priyankara, Trasadasyu, Sweta that foremost of royal sages, the celebrated Mahabhisha, Nimi Ashtaka, Ayu, the royal sage Kshupa, Kaksheyu, Pratardana, Devodasa, Sudasa, Kosaleswara, Aila, Nala, the royal sage Manu, that lord of all creatures, Havidhara, Prishadhara, Pratipa, Santanu, Aja, the senior Varhi, Ikshwaku of great fame, Anaranya, Janujangha, the royal sage Kakshasena, and many others not named (in history). That man who rising at early dawn takes the names of these kings at the two twilights, viz., at sunset and sunrise, with a pure body and mind and without distracted attention, acquires great religious merit. One should hymn the praises of the deities, the celestial Rishis, and the royal sages and say, 'These lords of the creation will ordain my growth and long life and fame! Let no calamity be mine, let no sin defile me, and let there be no opponents or enemies of mine! Without doubt, victory will always be mine and an auspicious end hereafter!'"'" SECTION CLXVI "Janamejaya said, 'When that foremost person among the Kauravas, viz., Bhishma, was lying on a bed of arrows,--a bed that is always coveted by heroes,--and when the Pandavas, were sitting around him, my great grandsire Yudhishthira of much wisdom, heard these expositions of mysteries with respect to the subject of duty and had all his doubts solved. He heard also what the ordinance are that apply to the subjects of gifts, and thus had all his doubts removed with respect to the topics of righteousness and wealth. It behoveth thee, O learned Brahmana, to tell me now what else did the great Pandava king do.' "Vaisampayana said, 'When Bhishma became silent, the entire circle of king (who were seated around him) became perfectly silent. Indeed, they all sat motionless there, like figures painted on canvass. Then Vyasa the son of Satyavati, having reflected for a moment, addressed the royal son of Ganga, saying, "O king, the Kuru chief Yudhishthira has been restored to his own nature, along with all brothers and followers. With Krishna of great intelligence by his side, he bends his head in reverence unto thee. It behoveth thee to give him leave for returning to the city." Thus addressed by the holy Vyasa, the royal son of Santanu and Ganga dismissed Yudhishthira and his counsellors. The royal son of Santanu, addressing his grandson in a sweet voice, also said, "Do thou return to the city, O king! Let fever of thy heart be dispelled. Do thou adore the deities in diverse sacrifices distinguished by large gifts of food and wealth, like Yayati himself, O foremost of kings, endued with devotion and self-restraint. Devoted to the practice of the Kshatriya order, do thou, O son of Pritha, gratify the Pitris and the deities. Thou shalt then earn great benefits. Indeed, let the fever of thy heart be dispelled. Do thou gladden all thy subjects. Do thou assure them and establish peace among all. Do thou also honour all thy well-wishers with such rewards as they deserve! Let all thy friends and well-wishers live, depending on thee for their means, even as birds live, depending for their means upon a full-grown tree charged with fruit and standing on a sacred spot. When the hour comes for my departure from this world, do thou come here, O king. The time when I shall take leave of my body is that period when the sun, stopping in his south-ward course, will begin to return northwards!" The son of Kunti answered, "So be it!" And saluted his grandsire with reverence and then set out, with all his relatives and followers, for the city called after the elephant. Placing Dhritarashtra at the head and also Gandhari who was exceedingly devoted to her lord, and accompanied by the Rishis and Kesava, as also by the citizens and the inhabitants of the country and by his counsellors, O monarch, that foremost one of Kuru's race entered the city named after the elephant.'" SECTION CLXVII "Vaisampayana said, 'Then the royal son of Kunti, having duly honoured the citizens and the inhabitants of the province, dismissed them to their respective homes. The Pandava king then consoled these women, who had lost their heroic husbands and sons in the battle, with abundant gift of wealth. Having recovered his kingdom, Yudhishthira of great wisdom caused himself to be duly installed on the throne. That foremost of men then assured all his subjects by diverse acts of good will. That foremost of righteous men then set himself to earn the substantial blessing of the Brahmanas, of the foremost military officers, and the leading citizens. The blessed monarch having passed fifty nights in the capital recollected the time indicated by his grandsire as the hour of his departure from this world. Accompanied by a number of priests he then set out of the city named after the elephant, having seen that the sun ceasing to go southwards had begun to proceed in his northward course. Yudhishthira the son of Kunti took with him a large quantity of clarified butter and floral garlands and scents and silken cloths and excellent sandalwood and Aquilaria Agallocha and dark sloe wood, for cremating the body of Bhishma. Diverse kinds of costly garlands and gems also were among those stores. Placing Dhritarashtra ahead and queen Gandhari celebrated for her virtues, and his own mother Kunti and all his brothers also, Yudhishthira of great intelligence, accompanied by Krishna and Vidura of great wisdom, as also by Yuyutsu and Yuyudhana, and by his other relatives and followers forming a large train, proceeded, his praises hymned the while by eulogists and bards. The sacrificial fires of Bhishma were also borne in the procession. Thus accompanied, the king set out from his city like a second chief of the deities. Soon he came upon the spot where the son of Santanu was still lying on his bed of arrows. He beheld his grandsire waited upon with reverence by Parasara's son Vyasa of great intelligence, by Narada, O royal sage, by Devala and Asita, and also by the remnant of unslain kings assembled from various parts of the country. Indeed, the king saw that his high-souled grandsire, as he lay on his heroic bed, was guarded on all sides by the warriors appointed for that duty. Alighting from his car, King Yudhishthira with his brothers saluted his grandsire, the chastiser of all foes. They also saluted the Rishis with the island-born Vyasa at their head. They were saluted in return by them. Accompanied by his priests each of whom resembled the grandsire Brahman himself, as also by his brothers, Yudhishthira of unfading glory then approached that spot whereon Bhishma lay on his bed of arrows surrounded by these reverend Rishis. Then king Yudhishthira the just, at the head of his brothers, addressed that foremost one of Kuru's race, viz., the son of the River Ganga, as he lay on that bed of his, saying, "I am Yudhishthira, O king! Salutations to thee, O son of the River Janhavi! If thou hearest me still, tell me what I am to do for thee! Bearing with me thy sacrificial fires, I have come here, O king, and wait upon thee at the hour indicated! Preceptors of all branches of learning, Brahmanas, Ritwiks, all my brothers, thy son, viz., king Dhritarashtra of great energy, are all here with my counsellors as also Vasudeva of great prowess. The remnant of unslain warriors, and all the denizens of Kurujangala, are also here. Opening thy eyes, O chief of Kuru's race, do thou behold them! Whatever should be done on this occasion has all been arranged and provided for by me. Indeed, at this hour which thou hadst indicated, all things have been kept ready!" "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Kunti's son of great intelligence, the son of Ganga opened his eyes and saw all the Bharatas assembled there and standing around him. The mighty Bhishma then, taking the strong hand of Yudhishthira, addressed him in a voice deep as that of the clouds. That thorough master of words said, "By good luck, O son of Kunti, thou hast come here with all thy counsellors, O Yudhishthira! The thousand-rayed maker of day, the holy Surya has begun his northward course. I have been lying on my bed here for eight and fifty nights. Stretched on these sharp-pointed arrows I have felt this period to be as long as if it was a century. O Yudhishthira, the lunar month of Magha has come. This is, again, the lighted fortnight and a fourth part of it ought by this (according to my calculations) be over." Having said so unto Yudhishthira the son of Dharma, Ganga's son Bhishma then saluted Dhritarashtra and said unto him as follows.' "'Bhishma said, "O king, thou art well-conversant with duties. All thy doubts, again, relating to the science of wealth have been well-solved. Thou hast waited upon many Brahmanas of great learning. The subtle sciences connected with the Vedas, all the duties of religion, O king, and the whole of the four Vedas, are well-known to thee! Thou shouldst not grieve, therefore, O son of Kuru! That which was pre-ordained has happened. It could not be otherwise. Thou hast heard the mysteries relating to the deities from the lips of the island-born Rishi himself. Yudhishthira and his brothers are morally as much thy sons as they are the sons of Pandu. Observant of the duties of religion, do thou cherish and protect them. In their turn, they are always devoted to the service of their seniors. King Yudhishthira the just is pure-souled. He will always prove obedient to thee! I know that he is devoted to the virtue of compassion or abstention from injury. He is devoted to his seniors and preceptors. Thy sons were all wicked-souled. They were wedded to wrath and cupidity. Overwhelmed by envy, they were all of wicked behavior. It behoveth thee not to grieve for them!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said this much unto Dhritarashtra of great wisdom, the Kuru hero then addressed Vasudeva of mighty arms.' "'Bhishma said, "O holy one, O god of all gods, O thou that art worshipped by all the deities and Asuras, O thou that didst cover the three worlds with three steps of thine, salutations to thee, O wielder of the conch, the discus, and the mace! Thou art Vasudeva, thou art of golden body, thou art the one Purusha (or active agent), thou art the creator (of the universe), thou art of vast proportions. Thou art Jiva. Thou art subtle. Thou art the Supreme and eternal Soul. Do thou, O lotus-eyed one, rescue me, O foremost of all beings! Do thou, give me permission, O Krishna, to depart from this world, O thou that art Supreme felicity, O foremost of all beings! The sons of Pandu should ever be protected by thee. Thou art, indeed, already their sole refuge. Formerly, I spoke to the foolish Duryodhana of wicked understanding that thither is Righteousness where Krishna is, and that there is victory where Righteousness is. I further counselled him that relying on Vasudeva as his refuge, he should make peace with the Pandavas. Indeed, I repeatedly told him, 'This is the fittest time for thee to make peace!' The foolish Duryodhana of wicked understanding, however, did not do my bidding. Having caused a great havoc on earth, at last, he himself laid down his life. Thee, O illustrious one, I know to be that ancient and best of Rishis who dwelt for many years in the company of Nara, in the retreat of Vadari. The celestial Rishi Narada told me this, as also Vyasa of austere penances. Even they have said unto me that. Thyself and Arjuna are the old Rishis Narayana and Nara born among men. Do thou, O Krishna, grant me leave, I shall cast off my body. Permitted by thee, I shall attain to the highest end!" "'Vasudeva said, "I give thee leave, O Bhishma! Do thou, O king, attain to the status of the Vasus, O thou of great splendour, thou hast not been guilty of a single transgression in this world. O royal sage, thou art devoted to thy sire. Thou art, therefore, like a second Markandeya! It is for that reason that death depends upon thy pleasure even as thy slave expectant of reading thy pleasure!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said these words, the son of Ganga once more addressed the Pandavas headed by Dhritarashtra, and other friends and well-wishers of his, "I desire to cast off my lifebreaths. It behoveth you to give me leave. Ye should strive for attaining to truth. Truth constitutes the highest power. Ye should always live with Brahmanas of righteous conduct, devoted to penances, ever abstaining from cruel behaviour, and who have their souls under control!" Having said these words unto his friends and embraced them all, the intelligent Bhishma once more addressed Yudhishthira, saying, "O king, let all Brahmanas, especially those that are endued with wisdom, let them who are preceptors, let those who are priests capable of assisting as sacrifices, be adorable in thy estimation."'" SECTION CLXVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Having said so unto all the Kurus, Bhishma, the son of Santanu, remained silent for some time, O chastiser of foes. He then held forth his life-breaths successively in those parts of his body which are indicated in Yoga. The life-breaths of that high-souled one, restrained duly, then rose up. Those parts of the body of Santanu's son, in consequence of the adoption, of Yoga, from which the life-breaths went up, became soreless one after another. In the midst of those high-souled persons, including those great Rishis with Vyasa at their head, the sight seemed to be a strange one, O king. Within a short time, the entire body of Bhishma became shaftless and soreless. Beholding it, all those distinguished personages with Vasudeva at their head, and all the ascetics with Vyasa, became filled with wonder. The life-breaths, restrained and unable to escape through any of the outlets, at last pierced through the crown of the head and proceeded upwards to heaven. The celestial kettle-drums began to play and floral showers were rained down. The Siddhas and regenerate Rishis, filled with delight, exclaimed, "Excellent, Excellent!" The life-breaths of Bhishma, piercing through the crown of his head, shot up through the welkin like a large meteor and soon became invisible. Even thus, O great king, did Santanu's son, that pillar of Bharata's race, united himself with eternity. Then the high-souled Pandavas and Vidura, taking a large quantity of wood and diverse kinds of fragrant scents, made a funeral pyre. Yuyutsu and others stood as spectators of the preparations. Then Yudhishthira and the high-souled Vidura wrapped Bhishma's body with silken cloth and floral garlands. Yuyutsu held an excellent umbrella, over it Bhimasena and Arjuna both held in their hands a couple of yak-tails of pure white. The two sons of Madri held two head-gears in their hands. Yudhishthira and Dhritarashtra stood at the feet of the lord of the Kurus, taking up palmyra fans, stood around the body and began to fan it softly. The Pitri sacrifice of the high-souled Bhishma was then duly performed. Many libations were poured upon the sacred fire. The singers of Samans sang many Samans. Then covering the body of Ganga's son with sandal wood and black aloe and the bark wood, other fragrant fuel, and setting fire to the same, the Kurus with Dhritarashtra and others, stood on the right sight of the funeral pyre. Those foremost ones of Kuru's race, having thus cremated the body of the son of Ganga, proceeded to the sacred Bhagirathi, accompanied by the Rishis. They were followed by Vyasa, by Narada, by Asita, by Krishna, by the ladies of the Bharata race, as also by such of the citizens of Hastinapore as had come to the place. All of them, arrived at the sacred river, duly offered oblation of water unto the high-souled son of Ganga. The goddess Bhagirathi, after those oblations of water had been offered by them unto her son, rose up from the stream, weeping and distracted by sorrow. In the midst of her lamentations, she addressed the Kurus, "Ye sinless ones, listen to me as I say unto you all that occurred (with respect to my son). Possessed of royal conduct and disposition, and endued with wisdom and high birth, my son was the benefactor of all the seniors of his race. He was devoted to his sire and was of high vows. He could not be vanquished by even Rama of Jamadagni's race with his celestial weapons of great energy. Alas, that hero has been slain by Sikhandin. Ye kings, without doubt, my heart is made of adamant, for it does not break even at the disappearance of that son from my sight! At the Self choice at Kasi, he vanquished on a single car the assembled Kshatriyas and ravished the three princesses (for his step-brother Vichitravirya)! There was no one on earth that equalled him in might. Alas, my heart does not break upon hearing the slaughter of that son of mine by Sikhandin!" The puissant Krishna, hearing the goddess of the great river indulging in these lamentations consoled her with many soothing words. Krishna said, "O amiable one, be comforted. Do not yield to grief, O thou of beautiful features! Without doubt, thy son has gone to the highest region of felicity! He was one of the Vasus of great energy. Through a curse, O thou of beautiful features, he had to take birth among men. It behoveth thee not to grieve for him. Agreeably to Kshatriya duties, he was slain by Dhananjaya on the field of battle while engaged in battle. He has not been slain, O goddess, by Sikhandin. The very chief of the celestials himself could not slay Bhishma in battle when he stood with stretched bow in hand. O thou of beautiful face, thy son has, in felicity, gone to heaven. All the gods assembled together could not slay him in battle. Do not, therefore, O goddess Ganga, grieve for that son of Kuru's race. He was one of the Vasus, O goddess! Thy son has gone to heaven. Let the fever of thy heart be dispelled."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'That foremost of all rivers, thus addressed by Krishna and Vyasa, cast off her grief, O great king, and became restored to equanimity. All the kings there present, headed by Krishna, O monarch, having honoured that goddess duly, received her permission to depart from her banks.'" The end of Anusasana Parva. FOOTNOTES 1. The commentator explains this passage by the illustration that in the act of felling a tree the effect is produced by the intermediate act of raising the axe by some sentient agent, but that in the case of the burning of a forest, the fire is produced by the friction of the dry branches of trees without the intervention of any sentient agent. 2. Even as the wind indicates the dry twigs to ignite, adds the commentator. 3. Literally, the releaser from bonds. 4. Refers to the curse pronounced on Viswamitra by the son of Vasishtha, when the former acted as the priest of Trisanku. The curse was that Viswamitra would partake of canine flesh by officiating as the priest of one who himself was the partaker of such flesh. It is said that at a time of great scarcity, Viswamitra was obliged to resort to dog's flesh for food, and that as he was about to cook it, Indra pounced upon it and took it away. 5. The constellation of the Great Bear. 6. The Pole Star. 7. Matanga was begotten upon a Brahmana woman by a Sudra father. 8. Charu is properly an oblation of rice, barley, and pulse, boiled with butter and milk, for presentation to the gods in a sacrifice or ordinary worship. 9. The meaning seems to be that if Destiny be unfavourable, there need not be much fear with respect to this world. But if one be wanting in Exertion, great must his fear be with respect to the next world, for happiness can never be obtained in the next world unless one acts righteously while here. 10. The commentator explains that hitam tad vada are understood in the last line. 11. The commentator explains that the allusion here is to the adage that swans in drinking milk mixed with water always drink the milk leaving out the water. Learned Brahmanas are like swans for in discoursing upon even the topics of the world they select what is good and instructive but reject what is evil and sinful, or, as the Commentator puts it, they know the difference between what is soul and what is not soul. 12. Vrijinam is explained by the commentator as 'Sankatam, phalasa iti yavat' etc. 13. i.e., one should keep oneself aloof from both Energy and Penances, for both these can consume, if troubled or interfered with. By 'Energy' is meant both physical and mental force. It belongs to the Kshatriya as Penances belong to the Brahmana. 14. The commentator thinks that by Krishna, the Island-born Krishna or Vyasa is meant. 15. The sense is that such a Brahmana, if his expectation be not gratified, is competent to consume the person that has falsely raised that expectation. 16. Akshyayyam is fire, because it is fire that eats the food offered to the Pitris and makes it inexhaustible. 17. The sense is that as a physician cures diverse ailments of the body, after the same manner, a gratified Brahmana cures diverse faults of the kingdom in which he continues to live honoured and gratified by the king. 18. Santirishta is the rishti or benefits caused by santi. The commentator cites Medini for explaining that 'rishti' is 'kshema'. 19. Tapasye is Tapah karishye. There being no indirect narration in Sanskrit, such forms cannot be helped. A Kulapati is an ascetic that owns ten thousand ascetics for his disciples. Kanwa, the foster-father of Sakuntala, was a Kulapati. 20. i.e. renouncing service which is the duty ordained for person of his order, he desired to betake himself to universal Renunciation or Sanyasa, without, however, the lingam or marks of that vow. 21. Sankalpa-niyamopetah means Sankalpasya nigraha, of chittavritti nirodha; tena upetah. 22. No Brahmana, the scriptures declare, should ever assist a Sudra in the performance of his religious or Pitri rites. Those Brahmanas that violate this injunction fall away from their superior position. They are condemned as Sudra-yajins. Here the Rishi, by only giving directions to the Sudra as to how the Pitri rites were to be performed, became a Sudra-yajin. There are many families to this day whose status has been lowered in consequence of such or similar acts of indiscretion on the part of their ancestors. 23. Atharva Veda Veda cha implies that the Atharvans were not generally included under the term Veda by which the first three Vedas only were meant. 24. Punyaha-vachana is a peculiar rite. The priest or some other Brahmana is invited. Gifts are then made to him, and he utters benedictions in return upon the giver. Yudhishthira used to invite every day a large number of Brahmanas and make them very valuable presents for obtaining their benedictions. 25. Or rather, superior. Guru is used to denote any senior as well as preceptor. 26. The Diksha is that rite which one passes through by way of preparation for those sacrifices and vows that one seeks to perform. 27. Satyanrite is equivalent to trade or barter. 28. Sanguptamanoratheshu is explained by the commentator as persons who conceal their real sentiments by acting differently. The reference is to hypocrites. 29. Vali (sing. of valayah) means anything offered or dedicated to the deities. The sense of the second line is that the goddess of prosperity resides in that house in which flowers are offered to the deities instead of animal life. 30. The belief is that a man remains childless in consequence of his sins. If these sins can be washed away, he may be sure to obtain children. 31. I give, in the affirmative form of speech, the three mental acts that are directed to be avoided. In the original, these are given in the negative form. Absence of coveting the possessions of others is the act that is directed to be followed. So compassion for all creatures is prescribed; and, lastly, the belief is directed to be entertained that acts have fruits, for the Vedas declare as such. He that does not believe that acts have fruits disbelieve the very Vedas which of course, is a sinful act. 32. The sense is this: wealth is always agreeable to all persons but Vasudeva is more agreeable than wealth. This attribute of being more agreeable than wealth itself, that is being agreeable to all the universe,--is due to the favour of Mahadeva. The commentator explains it in an esoteric sense, coming to the conclusion that arthat priyataratwancha means the attribute of becoming the Soul of all things in the universe. 33. The allusion is to Krishna's penances for gratifying Mahadeva in order to obtain a son. The son so obtained,--that is, as a boon from Mahadeva, was Pradyumna begotten by Krishna upon Rukmini, his favourite spouse. 34. It is not necessary to explain these names here. They have been fully explained in previous portions and will be explained later on in this very chapter. 35. Such verses are explained by the esoteric school in a different way. Bhavanam is taken as standing for Hardakasam, i.e., the firmament of the heart; adityas stand for the senses. The meaning then becomes,--'How can one that is merely a man comprehend Sambhu whom the senses cannot comprehend, for Sambhu dwells in the firmament of the heart and cannot be seen but by the internal vision that Yoga supplies.' Some texts read 'nidhanamadim meaning end and beginning.' 36. It is said that for obtaining a worthy son, Krishna underwent the austerest of penances on the breast of Himavat, with a view to gratifying the god Mahadeva. The son obtained as a boon from Mahadeva was Samva, as would appear from this and the succeeding verses. Elsewhere, however, it is stated that the son so obtained was Pradyumna begotten upon Rukmini. The inconsistency would disappear if we suppose that Krishna adored Mahadeva twice for obtaining sons. 37. Dhava is Anogeissus latifolia. Wall is Conocarpus latifolia Roxb. Kakubha is otherwise called Arjuna which is identified with Terminalia Arjuna, syn. Pentaptera Arjuna. Kadamva is Nauclea cadamba, Roxb. Kuruveka is Barleria cristata, Linn. Ketaka is Pandanus odoratissimus, Linn. Jamvu is Eugenia Jambolana. Patala is Stereospermum suaveolens syn. Bignonia suaveolens, Roxb. Varunaka is Crataea, religiosa, syn. Capparis trifoliata, Roxb. Vatasanabha is Aconitum ferox, Wall. Vilwa is Aegle Marmelos. Sarala is Pinus longifolia, Roxb. Kapittha is Feronia Elephantum. Piyala is Buchanania latifolia. Sala is Shorea robusta. Vadari is Zisyphus jujuba. Kunda is Balanites Roxburghii, Punnaga is Callophyllum inophyllum. Asoka is Saraca. Indica, Linn, syn Jonesia Asoka, Roxb. Amra is Mangifera Indica. Kovidara is Bauhinia, accuminata Linn. Champaka is Michelia Champaka, Linn. Panasa is Artocarpus integrifolia, Linn. 38. Ganga is represented as the daughter of Rishi Jahnu, and hence is she known by the name of Jahnavi. What is meant by Jahnavi having been always represent there is that the goddess always stayed there in spirit, desirous of conferring merit upon those that would reverence her. 39. i.e., never searching for food but taking what they saw, and never using their hands also. 40. Graha is literally a planet; here, Mandara who is likened to an evil planet in consequence of the mischief he did unto all. 41. Yoga in verse 84 is explained by the commentator as meaning the power of creation. Chandra-Surya-parjanya-prithivyadi-sristi-samarthyam. Similarly, by Saswatam Valam is meant that power which arises from Brahmavidya. 42. Surabhi is the celestial cow, the original progenetrix of all kine in Heaven and on Earth. 43. A Sanyasin is one that bears the stick as the badge of the mode of life he has adopted. Chatrin is the king. Kundin is one with the calabash. The meaning is that it is Mahadeva who becomes the Sanyasin or the mendicant on the one hand and the monarch on the other. 44. Every person belonging to the three superior orders bears the Upavita or sacred-thread as his badge. The deities also, including Mahadeva, bear the Upavita. Mahadeva's Upavita is made of living snakes. 45. Arupa is formless, or as the commentator explains, nishkala, i.e., without parts, being indivisible. Arupa is of the form of multifarious acts or operations or effects in the universe. Adyarupa is Hiranyagarbha. 46. The commentator explains that by saying that Maheswara is in the heart, etc., what is stated is that he is the several cases of which Jiva is made up while in his unemancipate state, viz., the Annamaya kosha, the pranamaya kosha, the Manomaya kosha, and the Vijnanmaya kosha. What is meant by Yogatman is that he is the Soul or essence of Yoga of the Chidachidgranthi, i.e., the Anandamaya kosha. By Yogasanjnita is meant that he is Yoga or the Twam padarthah. 47. The meaning seems to be this: the man that is not devoted to Mahadeva is sure to be subjected to misery. His distress will know no bounds. To think that such a man has reached the lowest depth of misery only when from want of food he has to live upon water or air would not be correct. 48. Bhuta-bhavana-Bhavajnam is one acquainted with both the bhavana and the bhava of all bhutas, i.e., all the living creatures. 49. Without the Srutis, He cannot be comprehended, for he is above all dialectics or arguments. The object which the Sankhya system has in view, flows from Him, and the object also which the Yogins have in view has its origin in Him. 50. Mahadeva, as spoken of as Brahma, first filled Space with his energy. Space forming, as it were, the material with which everything else was created. Having filled Space as it were with creative energy, he created the primeval egg and placed Brahma or the Grandsire of the universe within it. 51. Tanmatras are the subtile elements, those which we perceive being gross ones. 52. Here Mahadeva is represented as Supreme Brahman. Hence, the Being that created Brahma, Vishnu, and Rudra, derived his power to create from Mahadeva. Thus Mahadeva is Unmanifest Brahma. 53. Sampadayitum is aisaryyena samyojayitum. The difficulty lies in the first line; the ablative is to be taken as yabartha or lyablope. 54. This is an instance of crux; adhipati is a verb of incomplete predication, implying etya or encountering. 55. Here the compassion of Mahadeva is shown. The commentator explains that eshu refers to these words; chatanachetanani would include all animate and inanimate existences. The word adi following implies heaven and all unseen entities. Avyaktamuktakesa is a periphrasis for jiva; avyaktam aspashtam yathasyattatha muktah bhanti tirohitam nitya-muktatwama sya is the explanation offered. This is, no doubt correct. The sense then is that all this has flowed from Maheswara and exists for being enjoyed by Jiva. 56. The allusion is thus explained by the commentator; once upon a time the seed of Mahadeva fell upon a blazing fire. The deity of fire removed it, unable to consume it. The seed, however, thus removed became converted into a mountain of gold. Haimagiri is not Himavat or the mountains of Himalayas as the Burdwan translation wrongly renders it. 57. Ardhe sthita kanta refers to the transformation of Mahadeva into a form half of which was male and half female, the male half being the half of his own usual form, and the female half the form of his dear spouse Uma or Parvati. This transformation is known by the name of Haragauri. 58. The associates of Mahadeva are called Gana. Deva is in the vocative case. The Burdwan translator wrongly takes deva-ganah as a compound word and makes a mess of the meaning. 59. The Bombay reading is Vihitam karanam param. The commentator adopts it, and explains it as vihitam, ajnatam sat jnapitam; param karanam avyaktasyapi karanam. The Bengal reading, however, is not faulty. 60. The Bengal reading karmayoga is vicious. The Bombay text reads karmayajna which, of course, is correct. By karmayajna is meant that sacrifice which is performed with the aid of actual offerings of flowers and herbs and animals and libations of ghee, meat, etc. These are opposed to mental sacrifices or manasa yajna. It is curious to see that the Burdwan translator adheres to the vicious reading and misunderstands the meaning. Mahadeva transcends the fruits of action, i.e., he has no body unto which happiness and misery may attach. 61. The Bombay reading savikara-nirguna-ganam is correct. The Bengal reading having gunam (and not ganam) as the last word of this compound, is vicious. The Burdwan translator adheres to the vicious reading and wrongly renders the compound. K. P. Singha skips over it. Of course, ganam means sum or total. Rectodbhavam is arsha for Retasodbhavam. 62. Mahadeva's body is half male and half female. The male half has garlands of bones, the female half garlands of flowers. The male half has everything that is rejected by others; the female half has all things that are coveted by others. This particular form of Mahadeva is called Hara-Gauri. 63. Girimala is explained by the commentator as one that sports on hills and mountains. 64. All the texts have Bhavaghnaya. The correct reading, however, seems to be Bhagaghnaya, especially as the reference to Andhaka occurs immediately after. 65. Vishnu means here the foremost of sacrifices. 66. These articles must be offered to a visitor, whether he stands in need of them or not. 67. All the texts read Kshirodasagaraschaiva. The correct reading is Kshirodasagarasyaiva. The nominative may be construed with the previous line, but the genitive would be better. 68. The commentator does not explain what is meant by Vidyunmalagavakshakam. The word go means the Thunder-fire. Very probably, what is implied is that flashes of lightning and the Thunder-fire looked like eyes set upon that cloud. Go may also mean jyoti or effulgence. 69. Tadarpani is explained by the commentator as Twatsarupasyaprapika. 70. Kriti is Kriya, i.e., all acts that creatures do. Vikara is the fruits of kriya, i.e., joy or sorrow that creatures enjoy or endure. The Bengal texts read pralaya. The Bombay reading is pranaya. The latter is also the reading that the commentator notices, but when he explains it to mean tadabhavah, i.e., the absence of joy and sorrow, I think, through the scribe's mistake, the l has been changed into the palatal n. Prabhavah is explained as aiswaryya. Saswata is eternal, i.e., transcending the influence of acts. 71. Thou art the adi of the ganas. By ganas is meant ganayante sankhyayante iti ganah, i.e., tattwah. 72. The commentator explains this by saying that thou art the heavenly felicity which creatures earn by means of their righteous acts. Acts, again, are performed in course of Time whose divisions are caused by the Sun. 73. It has been explained in previous Sections that by success in Yoga one may make oneself as subtile as possible or as gross as possible. One may also attain to the fruition of all desires, extending to the very creation of worlds upon worlds peopled with all kinds of creatures. That Yogins do not create is due to their respect for the Grandsire and their wish not to disturb the ordinary course of things. 74. Satyasandhah is the Bengal reading. The Bombay reading is satrasatwah, meaning, as the commentator explains, satya-sankalpah. 75. Vigraham is explained by the commentator as visishthanubhanbhava-rupam or nishkalam jnaptimatram. 76. In verse 369 ante Upamanyu says that Krishna is to receive from Mahadeva sixteen and eight boons. The commentator, stretching the words has tried to explain them as signifying a total of eight, and eight i.e., eight are to be obtained from Mahadeva, and eight from his divine spouse Uma. The language, however, is such that this meaning cannot be put upon it without doing violence to it. 77. The commentator explains this as 'thou art the cleanser of all cleansing entities,' i.e., it is in consequence of thee, Ganga and the others have received the power of cleansing other things and creatures. 78. Adhyatma: that occupies the inner body. Adhibhuta: elements, prima, eyes, ears, etc.; Adhidaivata: sun, moon, etc. that control over the bhutas. Adhiloka--one occupying the lokas; Adhivijnana--one occupying the plane of consciousness; Adhiyajna--one conducting the sacrifices residing in the heart of the jivas. 79. i.e., they attain to Emancipation when they behold thee in the firmament of their own hearts, or succeed in identifying their own souls with thee. 80. The guha or cave in which Brahman is concealed is the heart of every living creature. 81. The worlds or regions commonly enumerated are Bhu, Bhuva, Swa, Maha, Jana, Tapa, and Satya. The eight well-known forms of Mahadeva are Water, Fire, Hotri, Sun, Moon, Space, Earth and Wind. In his form of water he is called Bhava; in that of fire, he is called Rudra; in that of Hotri he is called Pasupati; in that of the Sun, he is called Isana; in that of the Moon, he is called Mahadeva; in that of Space, he is called Bhima; in that of Earth, he is called Sarva; and in that of wind, he is called Ugra. Compare the benediction in Kalidasa's Shakuntalam. 82. The cave in which Mahadeva has been concealed is the cave of the Scriptures: probably, difficult texts. 83. The sense is that these persons have not to make any extraordinary efforts for beholding thee. Their devotion is sufficient to induce thee to show thyself unto them. 84. Devayana and Pitriyana are the two courses or paths by which the departed have to attain to their ends. Those going by the former reach the Sun; while those that go by the latter reach the Moon. 85. The first is that which is according to the rites inculcated in the Srutis; second is according to the procedure laid down in the Smritis, and the third is the way or manner constituted by Dhyana or meditation. 86. Vide Sankhya karika. With original Prakriti, the seven beginning with Mahat and Ahankara and numbering the five Tanmatras. 87. Both the vernacular translators render the last verse most erroneously. K.P. Singha skips over every difficulty. In the Anusasana, this characteristic of his is more marked than in the Santi. The Burdwan translators very rarely skip over a verse, but they are very generally in the wrong. Nilakantha explains that Devesah is Brahma. The meaning, therefore, is that Tandi said unto me those secret names which Brahma had applied unto the high-souled one or Mahadeva. The Bengal reading Devesa, in the vocative, is incorrect. 88. i.e., if recited, it destroys all fear or Rakshasas, for these either fly away at its sound or are even killed. 89. i.e., it has the merit that is attached to either Meditation or Yoga. 90. Both Sthira and Sthanu imply immutability or freedom from change. 91. The commentator explains that Bhava is here used in the sense of that from which all things now and into which all things merge when the universal dissolution comes. Or, it may imply, mere existence, without reference, that is, to any attribute by which it is capable of being described or comprehended. 92. i.e., Virat or vast or Infinite. 93. The task of rendering these names is exceedingly difficult. In the original, many of these names are such that they are capable of more than one interpretation. The commentator often suggests more than one meaning. Each name would require a separate note for explaining all its bearings. Niyata is literally one who is observant of fasts and vows and who has restrained his senses. Hence it means an ascetic. Mahadeva is an ascetic. Smasanu is either a crematorium, the place where dead creatures lie down, or, it may mean Varanasi, the sacred city of Siva, where creatures dying have not to take rebirth. Siva is both a resident of crematoria and of Varanasi. 94. Or, the universe is displayed in thee. 95. Probably, what is said here is that Mahadeva is the Pratyag Soul free from ignorance. 96. By Niyama is meant purity both internal and external, contentedness, with whatever is got, penances, Vedic studies, meditation on the Deity, etc. 97. Nidhi implies the largest number that can be named in Arithmetical notation. Hence, it implies, as the commentator correctly explains, the possessor of inexhaustible felicity and gladness. 98. Sahasraksha is either Indra or possessor of innumerable eyes in consequence of Mahadeva's being identical with the universe. Visalaksha is one whose eyes are of vast power, because the Past and the Future are seen by them even as the Present. Soma implies either the Moon or the juice of the Soma i.e. the libations poured in the sacrificial fire. All righteous persons, again, become luminaries in the firmament. It is Mahadeva that makes them so i.e., he is the giver of glorious forms to those that deserve them. 99. Many of these names require comments to be intelligible. Ketu is no plant but Hindu astronomers name the descending node of the Moon by that name. Hence Rahu is the ascending node of the Moon. Graha, is that which seizes; Grahapati is Mangala, so called for its malevolence, Varah is Vrihaspati or Jupiter, who is the counterself of Sukra or Venus. In Hindu mythology, Sukra is a male person, the preceptor of the Daityas and Asuras. Atri is Vudha or Mercury, represented as the sons of Atri. Atryahnamaskarta is Durvasas who was the son of Atri's wife, got by the lady through a boon of Mahadeva. Daksha's Sacrifice sought to fly away from Siva, but the latter pursued it and shot his arrow at it for destroying it downright. 100. Suvarna-retas is explained by the commentator as follows: At first he created water and then cast his seed into it. That seed became a golden egg. It may also mean that Mahadeva is Agni or the deity of fire, for gold represents the seed of Agni. 101. The sense is this: Jiva carries that seed of acts, i.e., Ignorance and Desire, with him. In consequence of this seed, Jiva travels from one world into another ceaselessly. This seed, therefore, is the conveyance or the means of locomotion of Jiva. Mahadeva is Jiva. The soul is called the rider, and the body is the car that bears the Soul on it. 102. Ganapati is Ganesa, the eldest son of Mahadeva. The Ganas are mighty beings that wait upon Mahadeva. This make up the first hundred names. The commentator takes Avala and Gana together. 103. Digvasas means nude. The Puranas say that for stupefying the wives of certain ascetics, Mahadeva became nude on one occasion. The real meaning, however, is that he is capable of covering and does actually cover even infinite space. In the sense of nude, the word means one that has empty space for his cover or vestments. 104. The meaning is that with thee Knowledge is penance instead of actual physical austerities being so. This is only another way of saying that thou hast Jnanamayam Tapah. 105. Sataghni a killer of hundred; Wilson thinks it was a kind of rocket. 106. Harikesa means one having the senses for one's rays, i.e., one who displays all objects before the soul through the doors of the senses. The meaning is that Mahadeva is he through whose puissance the mind succeeds in acquiring knowledge through the senses. 107. Krishna is explained by the commentator thus. Krish is a word signifying Bhu or Existence. The letter n (the palatal one) signifies nivritti. Hence Krishna is anandatanmatra. 108. Kaparddin is thus explained by the commentator Kam Jalam pivati iti kapah. So called because of the incident noted in the text, for the matted locks of Mahadeva had sucked up the river Ganga when it first fell from heaven. Then Rit means sovereignty or lordship. Riddah is one that gives sovereignty. Combining the two, the compound Kaparddin is formed. 109. Nabhah means space which implies puissance. That Nabhah is the sthala or abode of Mahadeva. The Bengal texts which read Nabhastala are vicious. 110. The deities are said to move about during the day, while the Asuras and Rakshasas during the night. What is said, therefore, here is that thou art the deities and thou art their foes of the Daityas and others. 111. Sound, only when manifested, becomes perceptible. When unmanifest and lying in the womb of eternal space, it is believed to have an existence. Unmanifest Brahman is frequently represented as anahatah savdah or unstruck sound. 112. These four ways are as enumerated by commentator, Visva, Taijasa, Prajna, Sivadhyana. 113. It may also mean that thou art he called Buddha who preached against all sacrifices. 114. The commentator explains that Mahadeva's defeat at the hands of Krishna in the city of Vana was due to Mahadeva's kindness for Krishna, even as Krishna broke his own vow of never taking up arms in the battle of Kurukshetra, for honouring his worshipper Bhishma who had vowed that he would compel Krishna to take up arms. 115. The sense is this: when the universal destruction comes and all becomes a mighty expanse of water, there appears a banian tree under whose shade the immortal Rishi Markandeya sees a boy who is Mahavishnu. 116. It may also mean that thou art he at whose approach all the Daitya troops fled in all directions. 117. i.e., thou art Time itself. This is the implication. 118. By these three names what is indicated is that Mahadeva is a householder, a Sanyasin and a forest-recluse. House-holders bear a tuft of hair on their heads, Sanyasins have bald heads, while forest recluses or Vanaprasthis have matted locks. 119. The sense is that Brahman is felt by every one in the firmament of his own heart. Mahadeva, as identical with Brahman is displayed in the heart that is within the physical case. Hence, he may be said to take birth or appear in his effulgence within every one's body. 120. Kalakatankatah is explained by the commentator as follows:--Kala is Yama. He is covered over with the illusion of the Supreme Deity. This all covering illusion, again, has the Supreme Deity for its cover. Thou art that Supreme Deity. 121. Vibhaga and Sarvaga, the commentator explains, are used for indicating that thou art the universe as Vyashti and Samashti. 122. Some editions read susaranab, meaning thou art he who well protects the universe. 123. The golden mail being the illusion of the Supreme Deity in consequence of which the universe has become displayed. 124. Thou art Pasupati; atodyah pratodanarhah pasavah yasya iti. 125. The commentator explains that Tarangavit, which is literally conversant with waves means one that is acquainted with the joys or pleasures that arise from the possession or enjoyment of worldly things, for such joys may truly be likened to waves which appear and disappear on the bosom of the sea or ocean of Eternity. 126. The commentator explains that the binder of Asura chiefs refers to the Supreme Deity's form of Vishnu in which he had bound Vali, the chief of the Asuras. The plural form has reference to successive Kalpas. 127. The sense is that thou art he that is well conversant with the ritual of sacrifices. 128. Or, it may mean that thou art he that has no vestments, for no vestments can cover thy vast limbs. 129. Those that uphold others are, for example, the elephants that stand at the different points of the compass, the snake Sesha, etc. What is said here is that thou art the best of all these or all such beings. 130. The sense is that thou art Vishnu who is the foremost of the celestials and thou art Agni who is the lowest of the celestials; i.e., thou art all the celestials. 131. The body is as it were a pit into which the soul falls, determined by Desire and Ignorance. 132. Vasu, the commentator explains, indicates the Wind, for it means that which establishes all things into itself. 133. Nisachara is one acting through nisa, or Avidya, i.e., one who enjoys all objects, implying Jiva invested with Ignorance. 134. The Soul can view the Soul or itself, if it can transcend the body with the aid of Yoga. 135. The commentator explains that the first word means that thou art Hansa and that the second word means thou art Paramahansa. 136. Varhaspatya is a word that is applied to a priest. The deities first got their priest for assisting them at their sacrifices. Human beings then got theirs. Those born after Vrihaspati are Vrihaspatyas. 137. This word Nandivardhanah may also mean he that withdraws or takes away the joys previously conferred. 138. The language of the Veda is divine. That of the scriptures is human. 139. Literally, crown of the head. 140. i.e., that succeeds in effecting his Emancipation. 141. Mahanakha refers to the incarnation of Narasingha or the Man-lion assumed for slaying the Daitya Hiranyakasipu, the father of Prahlada. Maharoman has reference to the form of the mighty or vast Boar that the Supreme Deity assumed for raising the submerged Earth on his tusks. 142. Mahamuni may mean either one that is very mananasilah or one that is exceedingly taciturn. 143. How the world has been likened to a tree has been explained in the Moksha sections of the Santi Parvan. 144. This is explained in the sense of no one being able to enquire after Brahman unless he has a body, however subtile, with the necessary senses and understanding. It may also mean that the tree of the world furnishes evidence of the existence of the Supreme Deity. 145. Both the vernacular translators have rendered many of these names most carelessly. The Burdwan translator takes Yaju as one name and Padabhuja as another. This is very absurd. 146. These are the ten previously enumerated, beginning with residence in the mother's womb and ending with death as the tenth, with heaven the eleventh and Emancipation the twelfth. 147. It should be remembered that Kali which is either the age of sinfulness or the presiding deity of that age and, therefore, a malevolent one, is highly propitious to Emancipation. The world being generally sinful, those who succeed in living righteously in this age or under the sway of this malevolent deity, very quickly attain to heaven if heaven be their object, or Emancipation if they strive for Emancipation. 148. Implying that thou assumest the form of the constellation called the Great Bear, and moving onward in space causest the lapse of Time. This constellation, in Hindu astronomy, is known by the name of Sisumara because of its resemblance with the form of a tortoise. 149. The word bhashma, meaning ashes, literally signifies anything that dispels, tears off all bonds, and cures every disease. Ashes are used by Sanyasins for rubbing their bodies as a mark of their having consumed every sin and cut off every bond and freed themselves from all diseases. 150. Mahadeva gave a quantity of ashes to his devotees for protecting them from sin. 151. Vide the story of Mankanaka. The Rishi of that name, beholding vegetable juice issuing from his body, began to dance in joy. The whole universe, overpowered by a sympathetic influence, began to dance with him. At this, for protecting the universe, Mahadeva showed himself to Mankanaka and, pressing his fingers, brought out a quantity of ashes, thus showing that his body was made of ashes. 152. Anukari literally means an accessory. In the form of Vishnu or Krishna, the Supreme Deity addrest himself to aid Arjuna in slaying Bhishma. 153. As Krishna the friend of Arjuna. 154. In the Pauranik myth, the Earth is described as being supported in empty space by a mighty snake called Sesha. Mahadeva is that Sesha, otherwise called Ananta. 155. i.e., Mahavishnu, from whose navel arose the primeval lotus within which was born Brahma. 156. The Bombay text has a misprint. It reads Punya-chanchu for Punya-chunchu. In printing the commentary also, the well-known grammatical Sutra vrittanschanchu etc. The Burdwan translator repeats the misprint in his rendering. K. P. Singha avoids it. 157. The word Kurukshetra or its abbreviation Kuru means the field or department of action. It means also the actual field, so called, on which king Kuru performed his penances, and which is so sacred that its very dust cleanses a person of all sins. 158. The commentator explains that Siddharthah means Siddhantah, and that the following compound is its adjective. 159. Literally, the Soul of real existence. 160. People eat off plates of silver or gold or of other metals. Mahadeva has for his plate Kala or destroyer of the universe. Both the vernacular translators have erred in rendering this word. K. P. Singha takes the compound as really consisting of two names, etc. 161. The sense is that Mahadeva is the foremost of Sadhakas or worshippers engaged in acquiring a particular object, for he has emaciated or reduced to nothingness all his foes in the form of all passions good and evil. Prakarshena tanukritah arayah kamadayo yena sah. 162. Narah is thus explained by the commentator. 163. The commentator explains that he who is called Suparvan in heaven is otherwise called Mahan. 164. Sarva-sahana-samarthya pradah as the commentator explains. Hence, it means that Mahadeva is he who makes creatures competent to bear all things, i.e. all griefs and all joys, as also the influence all physical objects that is quietly borne without life being destroyed. 165. The etymology of Hara is thus explained by the commentator; Hanti iti ha sulah; tam rati or adatte. This is very fanciful. 166. The sense is this: a nipana is a shallow pond or ditch where cattle drink. The very oceans are the nipanas or Mahadeva. 167. The commentator thinks that this has reference to the incarnation of Trivikrama i.e., the dwarf suddenly expanding his form till with two steps he covered Heaven and Earth and demanded space for his third step. 168. i.e., thou art possessed of Yoga knowledge. 169. The two together form one name. 170. These are Vija, Sakti, and Kilakani. A kakud is a hump or elevated place in the body. 171. The thin bamboo rod in the hand of the Brahmana is mightier than the thunderbolt of Indra. The thunder scorches all existing objects upon which it falls. The Brahmana's rod (which symbolizes the Brahmana's might in the form of his curse) blasts even unborn generations. The might of the rod is derived from Mahadeva. 172. Sayambhuvah Tigmatejah is one name. The commentator explains that Brahman could not look at Mahadeva; hence this reference to his prowess. 173. Brahma, after his birth within the primeval lotus, became desirous of seeing the end of the stalk of that lotus. He went on and on, without succeeding to find what he sought. The meaning of the word, therefore, by implication is that Mahadeva is infinite. 174. Once Brahma asked Surabhi to bear evidence before Vishnu to the statement that Brahma has seen the foremost part of Siva. Surabhi having given false evidence out of fear for Brahma was cursed by Siva that her offspring will eat unholy substances. 175. Uma is another name for Brahmavidya. 176. Falling from the celestial regions, the river Ganga was held by Mahadeva on his head, among his matted locks. At the earnest solicitations of King Bhagiratha he gave her out so that flowing along the surface of the Earth she met the ocean, first passing over the spot where the ashes of Bhagiratha's ancestors, the sixty thousand sons of king Sagara of the solar race, lay. 177. This form is called Hara-Gauri, as explained before. 178. Some texts read Pritatma, implying one of contented soul. The reading noticed by the commentator is Pitatma, meaning gold-complexioned. The Burdwan translator takes Pritatma as one name. This is not correct. 179. Mahadeva is represented as possessed of five heads, four on four sides and one above. 180. Amritogovrisherwarah is one name. 181. These are names for different portions of time. 182. The Srutis declare that Fire is his head, the Sun and the Moon are his eyes, etc. 183. Mahadeva has an image in the country of the Kalingas that is called Vyaghreswara. 184. Kantah is thus explained. Kasya Sukhasya antah sima. 185. Undivided, i.e., having nothing else for its object, Sarva-bhavatah is bhagvat. The sense is that unless one becomes conversant with all the modes of worshipping Bhava, i.e., in thought, word and deed, and unless one has special good luck, one cannot have such devotion to Bhava. 186. There are numerous instances of the gods having become alarmed at the penances of men and done their best to nullify those penances by despatching celestial nymphs for attracting them of carnal pleasures. 187. I expand this verse a little for bringing out the sense clearly. 188. The subject propounded by Yudhishthira is this: marriage is always spoken of as a union of the sexes for practising all religious duties together. The king asks, how can this be. Marriage, as seems to him, is a union sought for pleasure. If it be said that the two individuals married together are married for practising religious duties jointly, such practice is suspended by death. Persons act differently and attain to different ends. There is, therefore, no prospect of a reunion after death. When, again, one of them dies, the joint practice of duties can no longer take place. The other objections, urged by Yudhishthira, to the theory of marriage being a union of the sexes for only practising religious duties jointly, are plain. 189. The sense is that if after returning from thy journey to that region thou claimest thy bride, thou mayst obtain her from me. Thy journey will be a sort of trial or test to which I mean to put thee. 190. Kala-ratri is the Night that precedes the universal dissolution. 191. The commentator thinks that uttaram means the sacred north. 192. Tirtha means here a Ghat, i.e., an easy descent from the bank for access to the water. 193. Pradhanatah is explained by the commentator to mean with foremost of Vedic mantras. 194. Mandakini is that part of the river Ganga which flows through Kailasa, while Nalini is a celebrated lake owned by the king of the Yakshas, so called because of the lotuses which occur there in plenty. 195. Divya is excellent Gandharva, meaning music and dance. 196. A woman is said to destroy a family by staining it with her unchastity. 197. Both the vernacular translators have totally misunderstood the second line. Asyatam is explained by the commentator as tushnim sthiyatam. Ruchitahchcchandah means chcchandah or yearning arises from ruchi or like. What the Rishi says is, 'As yet I do not yearn after thy company, for I do not like thee. Of course, if, after staying with thee for some time, I begin to like thee, I may then feel a yearning for thee!' 198. Utsaditah is explained by the commentator to mean chalitah. Here, however, I think it does not mean so. 199. The last words may also mean--'Go to thy own bed and rest by thyself!' 200. The commentator takes the words kimivottaram bhavet to imply what will be better for me? Shall I adhere to Vadanya's daughter or shall I take this girl? I think this is rather far-fetched. 201. By Sakti is implied kamadidamanasamarthyam and by dhriti purvapraptasya atyagah. The last half of the last line of verse 25 is rendered erroneously by both the vernacular translators. Adhering to the commentator's explanation, they add their own interpretation which is different. This sort of jumble is very peculiar. 202. Linga means signs or indications. A Lingin is one that bears signs and indications. Brahmanam (in both places) means one conversant with Brahman. The first, that is, Lingin implies either a Brahmacharin or a Sanyasin that always bears the marks of his order. An Alingin is one that is divested of such marks. Yudhishthira's question is, who, amongst these, should be considered worthy of gifts? 203. The sense is that with respect to acts having reference to only the Pitris the conduct and competence of Brahmanas should be examined. 204. The commentator explains that five persons are mentioned in the question of Yudhishthira, K. P. Singha omits one. The Burdwan translator repeats the words of the original without any explanation. I take sambandhi to mean relatives by marriage. To this day, in all India, people make gifts or presents unto sons-in-law, etc. 205. The sense is that no sin can touch a Brahmana who observes these three acts. These three acts are efficacious in washing away all sins. The commentator points out that by this the attributes of birth and knowledge are referred to. 206. By good conduct is implied modesty and candour. 207. Anekantam is explained by the commentator as Anekaphalakaram, i.e., of diverse kinds of fruits. The fruits attainable by a correct discharge of duties are of diverse kinds, because the objects of those duties, called Palms are of various kinds. 208. Verse 22 contains 4 substantives in the genitive plural. All those are connected with vishtham in the previous verse. The commentator points out this clearly. Those living in the outskirts of towns and villages are tanners and other low castes. They who publish the acts and omissions of others are regarded as very vile persons, equivalent to such low caste men mentioned above. It is difficult to differ from the commentator, but it seems that genitives in the verse as are used for datives, in which case the meaning would be that they who give unto such persons shall also sink into hell. The Burdwan translator gives a ridiculous version of verse 22. 209. The Bengal reading Brahmacharyya is better than the Bombay reading of that word in the accusative. Bhishma apparently gives two answers. These however involve three. By maryyada is meant boundaries or limits. The duties of men have known bounds. To transgress those bounds would be to transgress duty. The highest indication of Righteousness is samah or absence of desire for all worldly objects; hence Renunciation. 210. i.e., by making gifts unto even a single such Brahmana, one rescues all the ancestors and descendants of one's race. 211. One makes gifts unto the deities, the Pitris, and unto human beings. There is a time for each kind of gift. If made untimely, the gift, instead of producing any merit, becomes entirely futile, if not sinful. Untimely gifts are appropriated by Rakshasas. Even food that is taken untimely, does not strengthen the body but goes to nourish the Rakshasas and other evil beings. 212. i.e., any food, a portion of which has been eaten by any of these persons, is unworthy of being given away. If given, it is appropriated by Rakshasas. One incompetent to utter Om is, of course, a Sudra. 213. The speaker, by first mentioning who are unworthy, means to point out those that are worthy. 214. Apasmara is a peculiar kind of epilepsy in which the victim always thinks that he is pursued by some monster who is before his eyes. When epilepsy is accompanied by some delusion of the sensorium, it comes to be called by Hindu physicians as Apasmara. 215. An Agrani or Agradani is that Brahmana unto whom the food and other offerings to the Preta in the first Sraddha are given away. Such a person is regarded as fallen. 216. When corpses are taken to crematoria, certain rites have to be performed upon them before they can be consumed. Those Brahmanas that assist at the performance of those rites are regarded as fallen. 217. Sometimes the father of a daughter bestows her upon a bridegroom under the contract that the son born of that daughter by her husband should be the son of the daughter's father. Such a son, who is dissociated from the race of his own father, is called a Putrika-putra. 218. Anugraham is that merit in consequence of which faults become neutralised and the stained person may come to be regarded as deserving. 219. As Drona, Aswatthaman, Kripa, Rama and others. 220. Uditastamita means one who having earned wealth spends it all in gifts. Astamitodita is one who though poor at first succeed in earning wealth afterwards; i.e., one who having become rich, keeps that wealth for spending it on good purposes. 221. Upon the completion of a Sraddha, the Brahmana who is officiating at it should utter the words yukta which means well-applied. Certain other words such as Swadha, etc., have to be uttered. The meaning is that the Brahmana who assists the performer of the Sraddha by reciting the Mantras should, upon completion, say unto the performer that the Sraddha is well-performed. As the custom is, these words are still uttered by every Brahmana officiating at Sraddhas. 222. K. P. Singha wrongly renders the word somakshayah as equivalent to somarasah. 223. Upon the conclusion of a Sraddha or other rites, the Brahmana who officiates at it, addresses certain other Brahmanas that are invited on the occasion and says,--Do you say Punyaham--The Brahmana addressed say,--Om, let it be Punyaham!--By Punyaham is meant sacred day. 224. The fact is, the slaughter of animals in a sacrifice leads to no sin but if slaughtered for nothing (i.e., for purposes of food only), such slaughter leads to sin. 225. One is said to become impure when a birth or a death occurs among one's cognates of near degree. The period of impurity varies from one day to ten days in case of Brahmanas. Other periods have been prescribed for the other orders. During the period of impurity one cannot perform one's daily acts of worship, etc. 226. In this country, to this day, there are many persons that go about begging, stating that they desire to go to Banaras or other places of the kind. Sometimes alms are sought on the ground of enabling the seeker to invest his son with the sacred thread or perform his father's Sraddha, etc. The Rishi declares such practices to be sinful. 227. Literally that are afraid of thieves and others. The sense, of course, is that have suffered at the hands of thieves and others and are still trembling with fear. 228. The two exceptions have been much animadverted upon by unthinking persons. I have shown that according to the code of morality, that is in vogue among people whose Christianity and civilisation are unquestionable, a lie may sometimes be honourable. However casuists may argue, the world is agreed that a lie for saving life and even property under certain circumstances, and for screening the honour of a confiding woman, is not inexcusable. The goldsmith's son who died with a lie on his lips for saving the Prince Chevalier did a meritorious act. The owner also who hides his property from robbers, cannot be regarded as acting dishonourably. 229. By selling the Vedas is meant the charging of fees for teaching them. As regards the Vedas, the injunction in the scriptures is to commit them to memory and impart them from mouth to mouth. Hence to reduce them into writing was regarded as a transgression. 230. In this country to this day, the act of marrying a helpless person with a good girl by paying all the expenses of the marriage, is regarded as an act of righteousness. Of course, the man that is so married is also given sufficient property for enabling him to maintain himself and his wife. 231. Articles needed in marriages are, of course, girls and ornaments. 232. Vapra has various meanings. I think, it means here a field. Large waste lands often require to be enclosed with ditches and causeways. Unless so reclaimed, they cannot be fit for cultivation. 233. The river Chenab in the Punjab was known in former times by the name of Chandrabhaga. So the river Jhelum was known by the name of Vitasta. 234. The sense is that one proceeds to the region of the Apsaras and becomes an object of respect there. 235. i.e., one acquires sovereignty. 236. It is difficult to understand the connection of the second line of verse 31. It does not mean enters the eternal region called Andhaka that rests on nothing. Human sacrifices were performed sometimes in former days. 237. Nyastani has Gangayam understood after it. 238. The deities are supported by the offerings made in sacrifices. These offerings consist of the productions of the Earth and the butter produced by the cow. The deities, therefore, are said to be chiefly supported by the Earth and the Cow. The Asuras, by afflicting the Earth and killing kine, used to weaken the deities. 239. The river Ganga has three courses. On Earth it is called Bhagirathi or Ganga; in heaven it is called Mandakini; and in the nether regions it is known by the name of Bhogabati. 240. Devesh is lit. the lord of the deities; but here it means the King or Emperor. 241. Aranyaih is explained by the commentator as implying courses of conduct leading to Brahmaloka. 242. The story referred to is this: King Sagara of the solar (?) race had sixty thousand sons, all of whom were reduced to ashes by the curse of Kapila. Afterwards Bhagiratha, a prince of the same race, brought down Ganga from heaven for their redemption. 243. Identical with the universe because capable of conferring the fruition of every wish. Vrihati--literally, large or vast, is explained by the commentator as implying foremost or superior. 244. Madhumatim is explained as conferring the fruits of all good actions. 245. Viswam avanti iti. Here the absence of num is arsha. 246. Bhuvanasya is swargasya. 247. The construction of this verse is not difficult though the order of the words is a little involved. Both the vernacular translators have misunderstood it completely. 248. Kurute may mean also makes. The sense is that the Brahmana grants to others whatever objects are desired by them. In his own case also, he creates those objects that he himself desires. His puissance is great and it is through his kindness that others get what they wish or seek. 249. Ekaramah is one who sports with one's own self, i.e., who is not dependant on others for his joy or happiness; one who has understood the soul. 250. Dasatirdasa is ten times hundred or one thousand Dasati, like Saptati, Navati, etc., means ten times ten. Both the Vernacular translators have erred in rendering the word. 251. Teshu (Brahmaneshu) Vahumanaprah (san) kan namsvasi--this is the Grammar, as explained by the commentator. 252. Yajanti with reference to truth and righteousness means worship, and with reference to land kine means give away. 253. Pigeons pick up scattered grains and never store for the morrow. In the Sila and other vows, the picking up of scattered and cast off grains from the field after the crops have been taken away by the owners, is recommended as the means of filling the stomach. 254. The aggregate of three is Righteousness, Wealth, and Pleasure. Persons who, in all the acts they do, keep an eye upon these three, are said to have their aggregate of three existing in all their acts. 255. Some texts read vriddhan for Ishtan. If the former reading be adopted, the meaning would be that kings should worship all aged Brahmanas possessed of Vedic lore. 256. Though really conversant with all duties, and of righteous behaviour, the Brahmanas, nevertheless, for concealing their real natures or for protecting the world, are seen to be employed in diverse kinds of occupations. 257. The argument, therefore, is that anything given to the Brahmana to eat and that is eaten by him apparently, is really eaten by these deities. 258. Bhutatmanah is explained by the commentator as Bhuta praptahvasikritahatma yaih. 259. The second line of verse 18 is a crux. The commentator explains that prakshipya means dattwa; Kun is the Earth. Van is diptim ukrvan, ubhaya-loke iti seshah. Para- [This footnote appears to have been truncated, as the last line begins with a hyphenated word.--JBH.] 260. The dark spots on the Moon were due to the curse of Daksha. The waters of the Ocean became saltish owing to the curse of a Rishi. 261. The sense is that one becomes a Brahmana by birth alone, without the aid of those purificatory rites that have been laid down in the scriptures. When food is cooked, none else than a Brahmana is entitled in the first portion thereof. 262. The commentator thinks that saudram karma has especial reference to the service of others. Hence what is interdicted for the Brahmanas is the service of others. 263. In this country to this day, when food is prepared in view of guests invited to a house, no portion of such food can be offered to any one before it is dedicated to the deities and placed before those for whom it is intended. An exception, however, is made for children. What is stated here is that a good Brahmana can take the precedence of even children in the matter of such food. 264. What is stated here is that those Brahmanas that do not accept gifts are very superior. Their energy and might are great. Bhishma directs Yudhishthira to be always careful of how he would treat such superior Brahmanas. After rakshyam, the words swakulam are understood. The Burdwan translator misunderstands the second line of the verse. 265. The construction is Etat Brahmana-mukhat sastram, yat srutwaiha pravartate, prithivyam etc, etc. Both the vernacular translators have misunderstood the verse. 266. Etat karanam seems to refer to Brahmana-mukhat sastram. The sense seems to be that in the encounter between the deities and the Asuras the power of the Brahmanas was abundantly proved, for Sukra aided the Asuras with his Mantras and incantations, while Vrihaspati and others aided the deities by the same means. 267. In some of the Bengal texts for Bhumiretau the reading Bhumireto occurs. The fact is, the latter is a misprint or a mere clerical error. The etau has reference to the two mentioned in the second line. The Burdwan translator actually takes Bhumireto as a correct reading and makes nonsense of the verse. 268. I expand this verse. After kriya bhavati patratwam is understood. Kriya includes the diverse objects for which persons solicit alms or gifts. Upansuvratam is maunam parivrajyam. 269. It is said that food or other things, when given to an undeserving person, feels grief. What Yudhishthira asks is who the proper person is unto whom gifts may be made. 270. All these acts should be performed with purity of intention and according to the ordinances of the scriptures. For example, sacrifices should not be performed with vanity or pride. The Vedas should not be studied without faith. Children should not be procreated from lust, etc. 271. Such words are unseizable and unintelligible for their depth of meaning. Women are equally unseizable and unintelligible. 272. The sense is this: women agitate the hearts of those that treat them with respect as of those that treat them with disdain. The commentator explains that Pujitah dhikkritahva tulyavat vikaram janayati. 273. All living creatures are virtuous, for they are capable of progressing towards godship by their own acts. 274. Pura has little force here, implying 'first'. In the first place, know that I have come to thee, 275. Ladies spoke in Prakrita and not in Sanskrit. The latter is refined, the former is unrefined. Hence Indra's surprise at hearing Sanskrit words from the lady's lips. 276. The adana ceremony was a rite in course of which friends and kinsmen had to make presents unto the person performing the ceremony. The investiture with the sacred-thread, marriage, the rite performed in the sixth and the ninth month of pregnancy, are all ceremonies of this kind. 277. It would be curious to see how the commentator Nilakantha seeks to include within these five the eight forms of marriage mentioned by Manu. The fact is, such parts of the Mahabharata are unquestionably more ancient than Manu. The mention of Manu is either an instance of interpolation or there must have been an older Manu upon whose work the Manu we know has been based. The Asura and the Rakshasa forms are unequivocally condemned. Yet the commentator seeks to make out that the Rakshasa form is open to the Kshatriyas. The fact is, the Rakshasa was sometimes called the Paisacha. The distinction between those two forms was certainly of later origin. 278. Thus, there was no difference, in status, in ancient times, between children born of a Brahmana, a Kshatriya or a Vaisya mother. The difference of status was of later origin. 279. Nagnika is said to be one who wears a single piece of cloth. A girl in whom the signs of puberty have not appeared does not require more than a single piece of cloth to cover her. The mention of Nagnika, the commentator thinks, is due to an interdiction about wedding a girl of even ten years in whom signs of puberty have appeared. 280. When a father happens to have an only daughter, he frequently bestows her in marriage upon some eligible youth on the understanding that the son born of her shall be the son, for purposes of both Sraddha rites and inheritance, not of the husband begetting him but of the girl's father. Such a contract would be valid whether expressed or not at the time of marriage. The mere wish of the girl's father, unexpressed at the time of marriage, would convert the son into a son not of the father who begets him but of the father of the girl herself. A daughter reserved for such a purpose is said to be a putrikadharmini or 'invested with the character of a son.' To wed such a girl was not honourable. It was in effect an abandonment of the fruits of marriage. Even if dead at the time of marriage, still if the father had, while living, cherished such a wish, that would convert the girl into a putrikadharmini. The repugnance to wedding girls without father and brothers exists to this day. 281. For understanding the meanings of Sapinda and Sagotra see any work on Hindu law civil or canonical. 282. These verses are exceedingly terse. The commentator explains that what is intended is that under the third and fourth circumstances the giver of the girl incurs no sin; under the second, the bestower of the girl (upon a person other than he unto whom a promise had been made) incurs fault. The status of wife, however, cannot attach simply in consequence of the promise to bestow upon the promiser of the dower. The relationship of husband and wife arises from actual wedding. For all that, when the kinsmen meet and say, with due rites, 'This girl is this one's wife,' the marriage becomes complete. Only the giver incurs sin by not giving her to the promised person. 283. Hence, having promised to wed such a one, she is at liberty to give him over and wed another whom she likes. 284. In consequence of that boon no one incurs sin by retracting promises of bestowing daughters upon others in view of more eligible husbands. 285. Hence, no one should bestow his daughter upon a person that is not eligible, for the offspring of such marriage can never be good and such a marriage can never make the daughter's sire or kinsmen happy. 286. One of the most important rites of marriage is the ceremony of circumambulation. The girl is now borne around the bride-groom by her kinsmen. Formerly, she used to walk herself. All gifts, again, are made with water. The fact is, when a thing is given away, the giver, uttering the formula, sprinkles a drop of water upon it with a blade of Kusa grass. 287. Hence, what Savitri did at the bidding of her sire could not be against the course of duty or morality. The Burdwan translator has misunderstood the second line of this verse, while K.P. Singha has quietly dropped it. 288. Dharmasya refers to the true or correct or eternal Aryan usage, Pradanam is khandanam, from da, to cut. The sense is that the grant of liberty to women is an Asura practice. 289. Hence, no one should wed, led by desire alone. Nor should the maiden be permitted to choose for herself. She may be guided in her choice by improper considerations connected with only carnal pleasure. 290. The property is divided into five parts, two of which are taken by the daughter under such circumstances and three by the son. 291. I expand the verse for making it intelligible, by setting forth the reasons urged by Hindu lawyers and noticed by the commentator. 292. Valatah vasyam implies only those whose consent is obtained by force. Hence, such cases as those of Krishna abducting Rukmini and Arjuna abducting Subhadra, are excluded from this denunciation. 293. The maiden may herself accept ornaments. That would not convert the transaction into a sale. 294. Swalpa-kaupinah literally is covered with a small piece of cloth, hence, capable of being easily seduced. 295. i.e., he should not acquire for storing. He may acquire to spend in sacrifices and gifts or for maintaining himself and his family. 296. i.e., if the Brahmana, led by affection for any other wife, disregards the wife belonging to his own order and shows preference for those of the other orders, he then incurs the liability of being regarded as a Chandala that has come to be numbered among Brahmanas. 297. The sense of this verse seems to be this: If a Brahmana takes in succession three spouses all belonging to his own order, the son born of his first wife shall take the share that is allotted to the eldest; that born of the second wife shall take a share next in value; and that born of the youngest wife shall take the share allotted to the youngest. After such especial shares are taken, the residue of the property is to be distributed unto equal shares each of which shall be taken by each of the children. If this interpretation be correct, it would appear that the contention waged some years ago in Bengal, that the scriptures do not allow a person the liberty of taking more than one spouse from his own order, falls to the ground. Upon other grounds also, that contention was absurd, for Kshatriya kings often took more than one Kshatriya spouse. 298. i.e., each order was created for performing sacrifices. The Sudra is competent to perform sacrifice. Only his sacrifice should be by serving the three other orders. 299. For them there is no investiture with the sacred-thread. 300. Broken earthenpots are always cast off. They are some times utilised by persons of the lower orders. 301. The second line is exceedingly terse. The sense seems to be this: one who is of low birth must remain low in disposition. Absolute goodness may arise in his heart, but it disappears immediately without producing any effect whatsoever. The study of the scriptures, therefore, cannot raise such a person. On the other hand, the goodness which according to its measure has ordained for one (1) the status of humanity and (2) the rank in that status, is seen to manifest itself in his act. 302. The son begotten upon a maiden by one who does not become her husband, and born after her marriage, is regarded as belonging not to the begetter but to the husband. 303. Such a son becomes the property of the mother's husband and not of his begetter. If however, the begetter expresses a wish to have him and rear him, he should be regarded as the begetter's. The principle upon which he becomes the child of the mother's husband is that the begetter conceals himself and never wishes to have him. 304. The objects of Yudhishthira's question will appear clearly from the answer given to it by Bhishma. 305. There is no fault in kine, etc., and kine are like fire etc. The Hindu idea is that kine are cleansing or sanctifying. The Rishis discovered that the magnetism of the cow is something that is possessed of extraordinary virtues. Give the same kind of food to a cow and a horse. The horse-dung emits an unhealthy stench, while the cowdung is an efficacious disinfectant. Western science has not yet turned its attention to the subject, but there can be little doubt that the urine and dung of the cow possess untold virtues. 306. Saptopadam mitram means that by speaking only seven words or walking only seven steps together, two persons, if they be good, become friends. 307. Vajrasuchyagram may also mean furnished with an end like that of the needle with which diamonds and other hard gems are bored through. 308. The ever-changing beautiful masses of afternoon or evening clouds, presenting diverse kinds of forms almost every minute, are regarded as the abodes or mansions of the Gandharvas. 309. Some of these trees and creepers are identifiable. Sahakara is Mangifera Indica, Linn. Ketaka is a variety of Pandanus Odoratissimus, Linn. Uddalaka is otherwise called Vahuvara and sometimes Selu. It is the Cordia Myxa, Linn. It may be a misreading for Uddanaka, which is the well-known Cirisha or the Mimosa Sirisca of Roxburgh. Dhava is Conocarpus latifolia, Roxb. Asoka is Saraca Indica, Linn., syn, Jonesia Asoka, Roxb. Kunda is Jasminum pubescens, Linn. Atimukta is otherwise called Madhavi. It is Gaertinera racemosa, Roxb. Champaka is Michelia Champaca, Linn. Tilaka sometimes stands for Lodhra, i.e., Symplocos racemosa, Roxb. The word is sometimes used for the Aswattha or Ficus religiosa, Linn. Bhavya is Dillenia Indica, Linn. Panasa is Artocarpus integrifolia, Linn. The Indian Jack-tree. Vyanjula stands for the Asoka, also Vetasa (Indian cane), and also for Vakula, i.e., Mimusops Elengi, Linn. Karnikara is Pterospermum accrifolium, Linn. Cyama is sometimes used for the Pilu, i.e., Salvadora Persica, Linn. Varanapushpa or Nagapushpa or Punnaga is Colophyllum inophyllum, Linn. Astapadika or padika is otherwise called Bhardravalli. It is the Vallaris dichotoma, Wall., Syn., Echites dichotoma, Roxb. 310. Bhringaraja is the Lanius Malabaricus. Kokila is the well-known Indian Koel or cuckoo. Catapatra is the wood-pecker. Koyashtika is the Lapwing. Kukkubhas are wild-cocks (Phasinus gallus). Datyuhas are a variety of Chatakas or Gallinules. Their cry resembles the words (phatikjal). Jivajivaka is a species of partridges. Chakora is the Greek partridge. Sarasa is the Indian crane. Chakravaka is the Brahmini duck or goose. 311. In verse 39 and 40 for asmi and tapacchaitat read asi and tapasaccha. 312. The Grandsire spoke of somebody becoming a Kshatriya in Bhrigu's race, and referred to the incident as the result of a stain that would be communicated to that race from Kusika's. This is the full allusion. 313. The sense seems to be that Kusika wishes to know what person of Bhrigu's race will confer this high benefit upon his race. 314. By ancestors to the seventh degree also descendants to the same degree are meant. 315. Heaven and Hell are places of only enjoyment and endurance. There can be no acts there leading to merit or demerit. This world is the only place which is called the field of acts. 316. Vrikshas are large or small trees generally. Gulma is a shrub, or bushy plant. Lata is a creeper, which cannot grow without a support. Talli is of the same variety, with this difference, perhaps, that its stems are more tree-like than those of creepers. Twaksara is the bamboo. Trina includes all kinds of grass. 317. The commentator explains that the drift of Yudhishthira's query is this: the giver and the receiver do not meet in the next world. How then can an object given away return or find its way back to the giver in the next world or next life? 318. Abhimanat is differently understood by the commentator. 319. Yuktaih is the better reading, although muktaih may not be erroneous. Yuktain is charaih; while muktath is 'men charged with a commission to do a thing'. 320. This sacrifice is the sacrifices of gifts. 'Spreading out a sacrifice' means 'spreading out the articles and placing them in proper order in view of the sacrifice.' 'Dadatah vartotam' means datustaya saryanastu. 321. The sense is this: gifts made to such superior Brahmanas serve to free a person from the debts which he owes to the deities. The 'water of gifts' means the water that the giver sprinkles, with a blade of Kusa grass, over the article given away, saying, 'I give this away'. In the sacrifice constituted by gifts, such water is like the dedication of offerings to the Pitris. A knowledge of the ritual of sacrifice is needed to understand and appreciate the figures employed in such verses. 322. Some texts read tathabham, meaning abhayam or fearlessness is from them--Tathobhayam (which I adopt) is that both, Heaven and Hell become one's through them; if gratified, they bestow Heaven; if angry, they hurl into Hell. 323. Yachyam is yachanarupamkarma, Anisasya is daridrasya. Abhiharam is tirashkaram. Yachanti bhutani means those who beg or solicit. In the Santi Parva, Bhishma in one place directs beggars to be driven away from towns and cities as annoyers of respectable people. This, however, applies to professional beggars, and not persons in real distress. 324. Antarvedyan is within the platform; and Anrisamsyatah is vahirvedyan or outside the platform. 325. Sacrifices are a means of giving away unto the Brahmanas. 326. Weeping women means women of destitute condition and, therefore, unable to pay. 327. The first word in the first line is not kshatam but kritam. 328. The Commentator explains that because giver by one that is dear or given to one that is dear, therefore is she called Priyadatta. 329. This is evidently a crux. Prasamsanti means generally praise. Here it means reproach or censure. The second line may also mean, his enemies dare not attack his kingdom. 330. This is the utterance or declaration of the earth herself. 331. Rich with every taste; the idea is that things have six tastes, viz., sweet, sour, etc. The quality of taste is drawn by things from the soil or earth. The tastes inhere in earth, for it is the same earth that produces the sugarcane and the tamarind. 332. Sparsitam is dattam. 333. The Bombay reading adityatastansha is better than the Bengal reading adityataptansha. 334. What Yudhishthira wishes to know is what conjunctions should be utilized for making what particular gifts. 335. Payasa is rice boiled in sugared milk. It is a sort of liquid food that is regarded as very agreeable. 336. Vardhamana, Sarava or Saravika. It is a flat certain cup or dish. 337. Phanita is the inspissated juice of the sugarcane. 338. A prasanga is a basket of bamboo or other material for covering paddy. 339. Rajamasha is a kind of bean. It is the Vinga sinensis, syn. Dilicheos sinensis Linn. 340. There may be akama and sakama acts, i.e., acts without desires of fruit and acts with desires of fruit. A Sraddha with Tila or sesame should never be done without desire for fruit. 341. When a residential house is given away unto such a Brahmana and the receiver resides in it, the giver reaps the reward indicated. It does not refer to the hospitable shelter to such a Brahmana given by one in one's own house. 342. To this day, in Bengal at least, a tenant never performs the first Sraddha or a Puja (worship of the deities) without obtaining in the first instance the permission of the landlord. There is in Sraddhas a Rajavarana or royal fee payable to the owner of the earth on which the Sraddha is performed. 343. Tasyam is explained by the commentator as kritayam. 344. Kinasa is either one who tills the soil with the aid of bulls or one who slays cattle. Having first mentioned vadhartham, kinasa should here be taken for a tiller. Kasai, meaning butcher, seems to be a corruption of the word kinasa. 345. One need not dedicate unto one's deities any other food than what one takes oneself. In the Ramayana it has been said that Rama offered unto the Pitris astringent fruits while he was in exile. The Pisachas dedicate carrion unto their deities for they themselves subsist upon carrion. 346. The first line of 13 and the last line of 14 are very terse: Kalasya vihitam, as explained by the Commentator, is ayuh pramanam, na prapnami is na janami. The sense is that 'unurged by time, I cannot allow these to take up my residence here.' 347. i.e., invite Brahmanas to feasts in which sesame should predominate. 348. In Bengal, to this day, those who can afford, particularly pious ladies, establish shady resting places in the month of Vaisakha (the hottest month of the year), by the side of the public roads, for travellers, where good cool drinking water, a handfull of well-drenched oats, and a little of raw sugar, are freely distributed. Such institutions, on the old Benares Road and the Grand Trunk Road, considerably refresh travellers. There are miles upon miles along these roads where good water is not at all procurable. 349. What is meant by the giving of lamps is the placing of lighted lamps in dark places which are the resorts of men, such as roads and ghats, etc. 350. Of equal name, because the word go means cow, earth, and speech. 351. No particular number is intended. What is meant is--innumerable. 352. The 'hence' in the last line has reference to what has been said before on the subject of kine, and not to the first line of the verse. 353. Vitasokaih in the instrumental plural refers to Bhavanaih or some such substantive understood. It may also be read as a nominative plural, referring to Lokah. 354. Very probably what is said here is that only such kine are worthy of being given away unto Brahmanas, and not lean animals. 355. Kine produce food not only by assisting at tillage of the soil, but also by aiding in the performance of sacrifices. The ghee burnt in the sacrificial fire sustains the under-deities, who pour rain and cause crops to grow. 356. That heat is the originating principle of the growth of many things was well understood by the Rishis. 357. The sense seems to be this: in doing all pious acts, one should first take the aid of a preceptor, even if one be well-conversant with the ordinances one has to follow. Without the selection of a preceptor in the first place, there can be no pious act. In the matter, therefore, of making gifts of kine according to the ordinances laid down, one should seek the help of a preceptor as well as in the matter of every other act of piety. 358. When consciousness of body is lost in Yoga or Samadhi, a temporary Moksha or Emancipation succeeds. Men with cleansed minds behold at such times those regions of supreme felicity to which the speaker refers. Such felicity, of course, is the felicity of Brahma itself. 359. Govritti is imitating the cow in the matter of providing for the morrow. Hence, one, who never thinks of the morrow and never stores anything for future use, is meant. 360. Etachcha in 25 implies gift of a cow, and enam refers to a Brahmana. Dwijaya dattwa, etc, in the first line of 26 seems to be an elaboration of Etachcha. 361. Homyaheth prasute implies for a child born in consequence of a Homa. The fact is, ascetics sometimes created children without the intervention of women and by efficacy of the Homa alone. At such times should people make gifts of kine unto such sires. The mention of Vala-samvriddhaye afterwards implies the birth of children in the usual course. 362. Kshirapaih implies calves that are yet unweaned; that is, the cow should be given at such a time when she is still yielding milk; when, in fact, her calf has not learnt to eat or drink anything besides the milk or its dam. 363. The correct reading of the second line is kshanene vipramuchya as in the Bombay text, and not kshemena vipramuchyeran. The latter reading yields almost no sense. The Burdwan translator, who has committed grave blunders throughout the Anusasana, adheres to the incorrect reading, and makes nonsense of the verse. 364. In verse 3, vikrayartham is followed, as the Commentator rightly explains, by niyunkta or some such word. Vikrayartham hinsyat may mean 'killing for sale.' This, however should be pleonastic with reference to what follows. 365. Vratas (rendered as 'vows') and Niyamas (rendered as observances) differs in this respect that the former involves positive acts of worship along with the observance of, or abstention from, particular practices, while the latter involves only such observance or abstention. 366. The orthodox belief is that all rituals are literally eternal. As eternal, they existed before anybody declared them or set them down in holy writ. The ritual in respect of gifts of kine sprang in this way, i.e., in primeval time. It was only subsequently declared or set down in holy writ. 367. In verse 5, if instead of the reading swah, swa be adopted, the meaning would be knowing that he would have to die. A Rohini is a red cow. The words Samanga and Vahula are Vedic terms applied to the cow. The Sandh in vahuleti is arsha. The formula or Mantras that should be uttered in actually giving away the kine occur in the scriptures. 368. The Commentator explains that gavadinam in the first line refers to gopratindhinam. The second line is very terse. The sense is that at only the eight step in the homeward journey of the recipient, all the merits attaching to vicarious gift become his who gives an actual cow: what need, therefore, be said of that merit when the recipient reaches home and draws from the cow the means of worshipping his domestic fire, entertaining his guests, etc? 369. Ashtami is the eighth day of the lunar fortnight. There must be two Ashtamis in every lunar month. A particular Ashtami is known as the Kamya or the Goshtha. On that day, kine are worshipped with sandalpaste, vermilion, floral wreaths, etc. 370. Sikhi means a bull, so called from the hump it carries. The construction is sikhi Vrishaiva etc, 371. A Kapila cow is one that gives a copious measure of milk whenever she is milked, and is possessed of various other accomplishments and virtues. 372. For without ghee, which is produced from milk, there can be no sacrifice. The sa may refer to Soma, but sacrifice is evidently meant. 373. The idea of uchcchishta, is peculiarly Hindu and cannot be rendered into any other language. Everything that forms the remnant of meal after one has left of eating, is uchcchishta. The calf sucks its dam. The udders, however, are not washed before milking the dam, for the milk coming out of them is not held to be impure remnant. 374. Swastayana is a ceremony of propitiation, productive of blessing and destructive of misery of every kind. 375. The commentator explains that by a wet cowhide is meant a piece of cowhide that has been dipped in water and thus purified. Upavisya is understood after Charmani. The mention of bhumau implies the avoidance of dishes or plates or cups of white brass or other allowable metals. Gavam pushtim, I understand, means 'the prosperity in respect of kine.' i.e., the prosperity which kine confer. 376. The first line of verse 4 seems to be connected with verse 3. The second line of 4 seems to stand by itself. By connecting the first line of 4 with the second, the meaning will be--All mobile and immobile creatures that will give us away etc. Immobile creatures making gifts of kine would be utter nonsense. 377. Vallaki is the Indian lute. The Nupura is an ornament for the ankles. 378. Bhumidah is literally, a giver of land. King Saudasa, the commentator explains, was known by the name of Bhumidah in consequence of his liberality in the matter of giving away land unto the Brahmanas. 379. These are the several names by which kine are known. The first is probably derived from kine bearing the plough and thus assisting the tillage of the soil. The second implies beauty of form. The third is derived from the cow being regarded as the origin of all things in the universe: all things, therefore, are only so many forms of the cow. Viswarupa implies the same thing. Matara implies mothers, kine being regarded as the mothers of all. 380. Ghee is regarded so sacred because of its use in sacrifices. It is with the aid of ghee that the deities have become what they are. Itself sacred, it is also cleansing at the same time. 381. Sri is the goddess of Prosperity. The answer of Bhishma will explain the question fully. 382. Devendreshu is evidently a misreading for Daitendreshu. 383. The commentator explains that hence, by making gifts of gold, one comes to be regarded as making gifts of the entire universe. 384. i.e., into water, for water is identical with Agni. 385. This refers to the practice of making the sacrificial fire by rubbing two sticks of Sami. It is a very inflammable wood and is used hence in all sacred rites. 386. Hiranyaretas implies having gold for his vital seed. 387. Vasumati implies endued with wealth, so called because the seed of Agni, identified with gold, is wealth of the highest kind and fell on the Earth who from that time began to hold it. 388. Skanda is derived from Skanna or fallen out. Guha implies secret. The secrecy of his birth in the wilderness led to the bestowal of this name. He has many other names. 389. Jatarupa refers to the incident of its having assumed an excellent form after its birth from Agni. 390. The commentator explains,--Pravrittipradhanam jangamamabhut. 391. Sa guna refers to Sattwa. Tejas is identical with Buddhi, because Buddhi, like Light, discovers all things. Sattwa, again, being of the nature of space, or rather being space itself, is of universal form; that is, Sattwa is all-pervading. 392. Avasatmaka is explained by the commentator as bhranta. 393. These are different names of Brahman and Mahadeva. 394. The 'hence' here does not refer to what preceded immediately, but has reference to what has been said of the identity of Agni with Brahman and Rudra. 395. Pravartakam implies leading to Pravritti for righteous acts or Chittasuddhi. 396. The commentator explains that the Pitris should be worshipped on the day of the New moon, the deities should then be worshipped on the first day of the lighted fortnight. Or, on any other day of the lighted fortnight, the Pitri-sacrifice or Sraddha should be performed first; the Deva-sacrifice or Ishti should then be performed. 397. Anwaharyam, the commentator explains, is paschatkartavyam, i.e., subsequently performable (subsequent, i.e., to the worship of the gods). There is a special ordinance, however, which lays down that the Sraddha should be performed on the afternoon of the day of the new moon. The gods should be adored on the first day of the lighted fortnight. Hence, owing to this especial ordinance, the Sraddha must precede the worship of the gods, and not succeed it. 398. Masha, is the Phascolus Roxburghii. 399. It is difficult to understand what is meant by Vadhrinasa here. It means either a large bull, or a kind of bird, or a variety of the goat. Probably the bull is intended. 400. Pitrikshaye is mrita-tithau. Kalasaka is explained by Nilakantha as identical with the common potherb called Shuka or the country sorrel (Rumex visicarius, Linn). Some hold that it is something like the sorrel. Lauham is the petals of the Kanchana flower (Bauhinia acuminata, Linn). 401. To this day the sanctity of Gaya is universally recognised by all Hindus. Sraddhas are performed there under the banian called the Akshaya or inexhaustible banian. 402. All religious acts are either nitya or kamya. The former imply acts that are obligatory and by doing which no particular merit is acquired but by not doing which sin is incurred. The latter imply those optional acts which, if done, produce merit but which, if omitted, leads to no sin. 403. Literally, 'set in motion a body of kings,' i.e., become an Overlord. 404. When Brahmanas are fed, they are made to sit in long lines. They that are stained with vices are excluded from the line. Such exclusion from the line is regarded as equal to complete outlawry. 405. i.e., who have undergone a natural circumcision. 406. Implying soothsayers. 407. This is a common form of expression to imply the fruitlessness of an act. Libations should be poured on the blazing fire. If poured on the ashes, they lead to no merit, for only Agni in his blazing form can bear them to the intended places. 408. The idea is that heaven is the result of one's deeds. It is attached to the fruits of one's acts. The man falling off from heaven is identical with heaven being dissociated from the fruits of his acts. Hence such a falling off at the man or the dissociation of heaven is likened to a bird's dissociation from its perch when the chain tying it to the perch is broken. The simile seems to be far-fetched. 409. It is painful to see how very careless the Vernacular versions of the Anusasana have been. From want of space the numerous errors that have been committed have not been pointed out. At times, however, the errors appear to be so grave that one cannot pass them by in silence. In the second half of the first line, whether the reading be avapta as in the Bengal texts or chavapta as in the Bombay texts, the meaning is that the Avapta or one that has not sown na vijabhagam prapnuyat, i.e., would not get a share of the produce. The Burdwan translators make a mess of it, while K. P. Singha skips over it. 410. The sense is that the calumniator, his sire, and son meet with destruction in consequence of such an act. 411. These purificatory rites, after the usual period of mourning, consists in shaving and bathing and wearing new clothes. 412. The act, as explained by the commentator, consisted in the father's doing that with reference to the son which, as the ordinance went, was done by sons with reference to sires. 413. In one of the vernacular versions, the wrong reading Kshama is adopted for Akshaya. 414. Ravana and other Rakshasas who spring from Pulastya's line are known as Brahma-Rakshasas or Rakshasas of regenerate origin. 415. i.e., that fast which mortifies the body is not to be regarded as equivalent to penance. True penance is something else. An observer of such a fast is not to be regarded as an ascetic. Such fasts, again, are sinful instead of being meritorious. 416. By Upavasa in the second line is meant abstention from food between the two prescribed hours for eating, and not that fast which mortifies the body. One may, again, eat the most luxurious food without being attached to it. One also, by repining at one's abstinence, may come to be regarded as actually enjoying the most luxurious food. 417. Meat of animals slaughtered in sacrifices is allowable. By taking such meat, one does not become an eater of meat. In fact, one may etc. 418. Prashthauhi means a cow pregnant with her second calf. Grishti means a cow that has brought forth only her first calf. 419. The commentator explains that the direction about ascertaining the names of the Rishis and the meanings of those names proceed from the kings' desire of cautioning the Rakshasi lest in going to destroy them she might herself meet with destruction. 420. In other words, Vasishtha attributes the leanness or emaciation of himself and his companions to the failure to discharge their daily rites of religious practice. 421. Lotus-stalks are eaten in India and are mentioned by Charaka as heavy food. 422. Sunahsakha implies a friend of dogs. The newcomer who had joined the roving Rishis had a dog with him. Hence, he is called by the name of Sunahsakha. 423. Brahma-danda literally means the stick in the hand of a Brahmana. Figuratively, it implies the chastisement inflicted by a Brahmana in the form of a curse. As such it is more effective than the thunderbolt in the hands of Indra himself, for the thunderbolt blasts only those objects that lie within its immediate range. The Brahmana's curse, however, blasts even those that are unborn. 424. Libations should always be poured upon a blazing fire. Fire made with dry grass or straw blaze up quickly and become soon extinguished. By pouring libations, therefore, upon such fires, one practically pours them upon ashes and gains no merit. 425. To derive the means of sustenance from a wife was always viewed with feelings of aversion in this country. It seems, therefore, that the custom of domesticating sons-in-law was not unknown in ancient times. To receive acts of hospitality in return for those rendered was regarded as not only meanness but also destructive of merit. 426. Jnatinam is an instance of the genitive in what is called Anadara. The meaning, therefore, is disregarded them. For a Brahmana woman to bring forth a son devoted to heroic deeds is a reproach. 427. The scriptures declare that Righteousness loses its strength as Time advances. In the Krita age, it exists in entirety. In the Treta, it loses a quarter. In the Dwapara, another quarter is lost. In the Kali age, full three quarters are lost and only a quarter is all that remains. 428. The Rishis think that the distinctions between the lower, the middling, and the higher classes of society are eternal, and nothing can be a greater calamity than the effacement of those distinctions. Equality of men, in their eyes, is an unmitigated evil. 429. Forgiveness is the duty of the Brahmana. To fall off from forgiveness is to fall off from duty. To censure when censured and assail the assailer, are grave transgressions in the case of a Brahmana. The idea of retaliation should never enter the Brahmana's heart; for the Brahmana is the friend of the universe. His behaviour to friend and foe should be equal. To eat the flesh that attaches itself to the back-bone of a slaughtered animal is also a grave transgression. 430. A religious mendicant should always wander over the Earth, sleeping where night overtakes him. For such a man to reside in a city or town is sinful. 431. To till the soil is a transgression for a Brahmana. 432. Good food should never be taken alone. It should always be shared with children and servants. 433. A village having only one well should be abandoned by a Brahmana, for he should not draw water from such a well which is used by all classes of the population. 434. The penance that is involved in standing on one foot should be practised, like all other penances, in the woods. To practise a penance on the way leading to a village so that people may be induced to make gifts, is a transgression of a grave kind. 435. Some kine that are vicious have their hind legs tied with a rope while they are milked. If the rope be made of human hair, the pain felt is supposed to be very great. To obtain the aid of a calf belonging to another cow is regarded as sinful. To the cow also, the process of sucking cannot be agreeable. If the milk is held in a vessel of white brass, it becomes unfit for gods and guests. 436. The discourse is called eternal and immutable because of its subject being so. Duties are eternal truths. 437. This discourse on duties delivered by the Rishis is called a Sastra. Literally, anything that governs men, i.e., regulates their behaviour, is called a Sastra. As such, the enumeration of duties occurring in this Lesson, although it has been made by a reference to their breaches, is therefore, a Sastra. 438. Literally, they who cook for dogs, i.e., keep dogs as companions; meaning members of the lowest caste. 439. The commentator takes Tapah or Penance as indicative of the duties of the four orders of life, and Dharma as indicative of compassion and other virtues. 440. Dhupas are incenses offered to the deities. Being of inflammable substances, they are so made that they may burn slowly or smoulder silently. They are the inseparable accompaniments of a worship of the deities. 441. Tejas is explained by the commentator, as used here for Kanti or beauty, and prakasam for kirti; there is no necessity, however, for rejecting the ordinary meaning of Tejas which is energy. 442. The sense seems to be that if a man dies during that period when the sun is in his southward course, he is dragged through a thick darkness. For escaping that darkness, one should give lights at the period mentioned. 443. What is meant by the juice of deciduous herbs is oil of mustard seeds and castor seeds, etc. 444. Well-fried paddy, reduced to powder, is sometimes used for giving a coating to dishes of meat. 445. It will be remembered that the only chastisement that was in vogue in the Krita age was the crying of 'Fie' on an offender. 446. The Bombay text has vatsakah for utsavah. If the former reading be adopted, it would mean those rites that are performed for the prosperity and longevity of children. Of course, in such rites also the deities are worshipped and propitiated. 447. For Dwijaya some text read Grahaya meaning guests. 448. 'Jwalante' has 'dwipah' for its nominative understood. A twinkle occupies an instant of time. What is said here is that the giver of lights becomes endued with beauty and strength for as many years as the number of instants for which the lights given by him are seen to burn. 449. 'Kshatrabandhu' implies a low or vile Kshatriya. 450. Literally, 'Why dost thou dip such parts of thy body into a pond of water?' 451. The study of the Vedas is regarded as equivalent in merit of gifts. Hence actual gifts of articles are spoken of as 'gifts of other kinds.' 452. Literally 'friendship is seven-word.' Sometimes the same expression is understood as meaning 'seven-paced,' The sense, of course, is that if the righteous meet and exchange seven words (or, walk with each other for only seven steps), they become friends. 453. The Bombay text has Somapithi and upavati instead of upayanti. The Bengal text reads Somavithi which seems to be inaccurate. The sense seems to be that of Somapithi or drinker of (sacrificial) soma. 454. The Ekaratra, Pancharatra, and Ekadasaratra, sacrifices consist of fasts and gifts for the periods indicated by the names, viz., one night, five nights, and eleven nights. 455. 'Golden moons' imply those well-carved and beautifully fringed discs of gold that are worn by Hindu ladies on the forehead and that hang by thin chains of gold attached to the hair. In Bengal, ladies of respectable houses wear a kind of ornament called 'Chandrahara' or the moon-wreath. This ornament is worn round the waist, on the hip. Several chains of gold, from half a dozen to a dozen, having a large disc of well-carved gold to which they are attached, constitute this really very beautiful ornament. The disc is divided into two halves, attached to each other by hinges, so that in sitting down, the ornament produces no inconvenience. 456. In the Santi Parva it has been explained that in ancient times kings sometimes performed sacrifices causing altars to be raised at small distances from one another. These distances were measured by hurling a heavy piece of wood called Sami, so that throwing the Sami from one altar, the next altar would be created upon the spot where it fell. 457. i.e. if a sinful man mends his conduct, he succeeds in warding off the misery and evils to which he would otherwise be subject in consequence of his sins. 458. What is said here is this: certain persons have the ugly habit of picking up little clods of earth and pound them into dust, while sitting on the ground and engaged in talking. The habit also of tearing the grass while sitting on the ground may be marked. It should be remembered that the people of India in ancient times used often to sit on the bare ground. As to cutting off the nails with the teeth, it is an ugly habit with many young men. 459. The Brahma Muhurta is that when the sun is just below the horizon. 460. The prayers said in the morning and the evening are also spoken of as adoring the two twilights. 461. 'One should always observe the vow of Brahmacharya' means that one should abstain from sexual congress except with one's wedded wives and in the proper season. 462. The Bombay text reads the second line differently. What is meant, is that the wounds inflicted by wordy shafts rankle and fester and lead to death. 463. Samyava is a thin cake of unleavened bread, fried with ghee, pounded and again made up into an oblong form with fresh bread, sugar and spices, and again fried with ghee. Krisara is a kind of liquid food made of milk, sesame, rice, sugar, and spices. Sashkuli is a kind of pie. Payasa is rice boiled in sugar and milk. 464. Antarddhane implies 'in darkness'; hence one should always examine the bed with a light before one lies down on it. 465. Pranan, the commentator explains, implies the upper holes of the body, such as the nostrils, the ear-holes and the eyes. 466. The Brahmana is more powerful than the other two, for while the other two cannot injure except when they have their foe within sight, the Brahmana can do so even by not seeing his enemy. 467. The custom in India, with especially all orthodox Brahmanas, is to wear a single flower on the head, inserted into the coronal lock. This flower may be a red one, it is said, after the prohibition in the previous verse about the wearing of garlands made of red flowers. 468. What is stated here is that dry perfumes should not be used, but those which are pounded with water and made into a paste. 469. The cloth worn by a Hindu has two lateral fringes which contain a lesser number of threads than the body of the cloth. 470. It has been said that Hinduism is a vast system of personal hygiene. These directions about change of attire are scrupulously observed by every rigid Hindu to this day. No change seems to have taken place in the daily habits of the people. 471. Priyangu is the Aglaia Roxburghiana. Vilwa is the Egle marmelos. Tagara is the Taberuaemontana coronaria, Linn. Kesara is probably the Eclipta alba, Hassk. 472. Na is the nom. sing. of Nri, implying man. 473. One of the Vernacular translations takes valena as signifying child and para-sraddha as meaning the first or adya sraddha. 474. This noise refers to that of chewing or sucking or licking, etc. It is an ugly habit with some people. 475. Doubting, for example, as to whether he would be able to digest it or not, or whether what he is taking is clean or not, or whether it would be too much for him. 476. In offering certain articles at the Sraddha, the articles are first placed on this part of the right hand and then offered with due Mantras to the Pitris. 477. The achamana is not exactly washing, when one is directed to perform the achamana after having eaten, there it, of course, implies an act of washing. At the commencement, however, of religious acts, the rite of achamana consists in merely touching the lips and some other parts with water. 478. The Brahmana's aid is necessary in selecting the ground, and settling the longitudinal and other directions of the house, as also in fixing the day of commencing the work of building. 479. I adopt the meaning which Nilakantha points out. According to him, this verse forbids the killing of birds at night time and their killing after having fed and adopted them. Indeed, one may buy such birds killed by others for food. The word Dwija, however, may mean both hair and nails. The first part of the line, therefore, may be taken as a prohibition against the cutting of hair and nails after eating. The words na samarcha reta, in that case, would be difficult to interpret. Probably, it is this that has led the commentator to take Dwija here for a bird. Some texts read panam for na cha. 480. Pravaras indicate the race in which one is born. They are named from the names of the Vedic Rishis. 481. The commentator explains that ayonim implies of unknown birth and viyonim of mean birth. 482. Brahmanih here refers to the rituals in the Vedas and not persons of the first order. 483. The fact is, one is directed to bathe after a shave. One is considered impure after a shave until one bathes. 484. Uddesa means, as the commentator explains, in brief. 485. The word rendered conduct in the concluding verse of this lesson is acharah. It implies not only one's behaviour to one's own self and others, i.e., to beings inferior, equal, and superior. The word acharah, therefore, includes the entire body of acts that one does in this life, including the very sentiments that one cherishes. 486. The flower of the cane cannot be plucked for being offered to the deities. 487. An Acharya is an ordinary instructor. He is called an Upadhyaya who teaches the Vedas. The Upadhyaya is greater than even ten Acharyas or ordinary teachers. The father, again, deserves ten times as much respect as is paid to the Upadhyaya. As regards the mother, again, the reverence due to her is greater than what is due to the father. The mother is equal to the whole earth. 488. Many of the verses of this Lesson are from Manu. The relative positions of the Acharya, the Upadhyaya, the father, and the mother, as given in verse 15, is not consistent with Manu. Verse 15 would show that the Upadhyaya was regarded as very much superior of the Acharya. In Manu, II--140-41, he is called an Acharya who taught all the Vedas, without any remuneration. He, on the other hand, who taught a particular Veda for a living, was called an Upadhyaya. The first line of verse 19 corresponds with Manu, II--148. The sense is that that birth which one derives from one's parents is subject to death; while the birth derived from the preceptor is true regeneration, unfading and immortal. It is a question whether any other nation paid such respect to persons employed in teaching. 489. Kanchi is an ornament worn by ladies round the waist or hips. There is a shining disc of gold or silver, which dangles on the hip. It is commonly called Chandra-hara. The Nupura is an anklet of silver, with moving bullets placed within, so that when the wearer moves, these make an agreeable sound. 490. In verse 3, Avaguna means Nirguna; Ekatma means alone and asamhta implies without associates i.e., helpless. 491. A Padma is a very large number. Instead of rendering such words exactly, I have, in some of the preceding verses, following the sense, put down 'millions upon millions of years.' 492. Avartanani means years. Four and twelve make sixteen, Sara is arrow. The arrows are five in number as possessed by Kama, the deity of love. The number of fires also is seven. The compound saragniparimana, therefore, implies five and thirty. Adding this to sixteen, the total comes up to one and fifty. 493. A countless number almost. 494. Here the exact number of years is not stated. 495. Some of the most beautiful ladies in Indian mythology and history have been of dark complexion. Draupadi, the queen of the Pandavas, was dark in colour and was called Krishna. As to women called Syamas, the description given is that their bodies are warm in winter and cold in summer, and their complexion is like that of heated gold. 496. A very large figure is given. 497. This sacrifice consisted of the slaughter of a human being. 498. The exact number of years is given, consisting of a fabulous figure. 499. Abhravakasasila is explained by Nilakantha as having the attribute of the Avakasa or place of Abhra or the clouds. Hence, as stainless as the ether, which, of course, is the purest of all the elements. 500. Sacrifices have for their soul either the actual rites laid down in the scriptures or fasts of several kinds. The observance of fasts is equal to the performance of sacrifices, for the merits of both are equal. 501. The word Tirtha as already explained (in the Santi Parva) means a sacred water. There can be no Tirtha without water, be it a river, a lake, or even a well. Bhishma, however, chooses to take the word in a different sense. 502. The language is figurative. By Manasa is not meant the trans-Himalayan lake of that name, which to this day is regarded as highly sacred and draws numerous pilgrims from all parts of India. The word is used to signify the Soul. It is fathomless in consequence of nobody being able to discover its origin. It is pure and stainless by nature. It is represented here as having Truth for its waters and the Understanding for its lake. Probably, what is meant by this is that the Understanding, containing the waters of Truth, forms a part of this Tirtha as the lakes of Pushkara form a part of the Tirtha called by that name. 503. Once freed from the idea of meum implies him who identifies himself with all creatures; him, that is, in whom the idea of self has been extinguished. 504. Such a man, through the merit he acquires, causes his deceased ancestors and descendants to be freed from every kind of misery in the next world. 505. In the Naramedha, a human being was offered up as the sacrifice. 506. The sense seems to be this: One that is not possessed of much learning is liable to do improper acts. These acts are all done for another, viz., one's body and the senses and not oneself. The para here is, the Not-self. 507. Nichayam is, as explained by the commentator Avasthitim. 508. The sense is that when these leave the body, they are accompanied by Righteousness. 509. Intermediate, i.e., between deities and human beings; hence, animals and birds. 510. Brahma-Rakshasa is a Rakshasa that belongs, like Ravana and others, by birth to the regenerate order. 511. Masha is Phaseolus Roxburghii, Kulatta is Dolichos biflosus, Roxb. Kalaya is Pisum Sativum, Linn. Mudga is Phaseolus Mango, Linn. Atasi is Linum usitattisimam, Linn. 512. A Kanka is a bird of prey. 513. He is repeatedly struck with the clubs and hammers and mallets. He is frequently impaled. He is confined with fiery vessels. He is dragged with forests of sword-blades. He is made to walk over heated sand. He is rubbed against thorny Salmalis. The Salmali is the Bombox Malabaricum. 514. The commentator explains that Nishpava means Rajamasha which is a kind of bears. It is the Dolichas catjung. Halagolaka is a long-tailed worm. 515. A Krikara is a kind of partridge. It is spelt also as Krikala or Krikana. A Vartaka is a sort of quail. 516. Tailapayin is, literally, one that drinks oil. That name is applied to a cockroach. 517. Vyathitah and vyadhitah are the correct readings. 518. That day is sterile or lost in which no gift is made of food. 519. Kama and krodha are mentioned: but the use of cha gives by implication cupidity. What is meant by nidhaya sarvabhuteshu is, dividing them into infinite small parts, to cast them off from oneself to others. It is painful to see how the Burdwan translators misunderstand verses 2 and 3. They read Hanti for Hanta and write ridiculous nonsense. 520. In the first line, after Sarvabhutani, atmatwena is understood. The sense of this verse seems to be this: such a man leaves no trace behind him, for he becomes identified with Brahma. He is, therefore, said to be apada. The deities on the other hand, are padaishinah, for they desire a fixed abode such as heaven or a spot fraught with felicity. 521. The sense is that when one refuses a solicitation one should think how one would feel if another were to refuse the solicitations one addressed to that other. So with regard to the rest. 522. By committing a slaughter, one becomes guilty of it. By inciting others to it one becomes guilty. By mentally committing an act of slaughter, one becomes guilty of it. 523. i.e. by eating meat, one feels the desire for meat increasing. A taste or predilection for meat is thus created. Hence, the best course is total abstinence. 524. The sense is this: he who observes the vow of abstention from injury comes to be regarded as the giver of life-breaths in this world. The assurance given to all creatures of never injuring them on any occasion is the Dakshina or Sacrificial present of the great sacrifice that is constituted by universal compassion or abstention from injury. 525. Mansa is flesh. This verse explains the etymology of the word, Mam (me) sa; Me he eateth, therefore, I shall eat him. The words following Me he should be supplied in order to get at the meaning. 526. The sense is this: one, while endued with a human body injures another, the consequences of that injury the doer will suffer in his human body. One becomes a tiger and slays a deer. The consequences of that act one will have to endure while one becomes reborn as a tiger. 527. What the sage says is that the fact of the worm's being able to recollect the incidents of his past life is due to some meritorious act. That meritorious act is the very sight of the sage which the worm has been fortunate to obtain. 528. The sense is that among human beings also, acts are done with the intention of securing happiness. In other words, human beings also enjoy the fruits of their good acts and endure those of their evil ones. 529. Literally, the verse runs,--'what is that which would forsake a creature that is destitute of etc.,' meaning that such a creature has been already forsaken by everything. Hence, 'the worm that is destitute of speech, etc.' is destitute of everything. Its condition is really fraught with great misery. 530. Jugupsita smritih jata is the paraphrase. 531. Swairini-kule implies, as the commentator explains, the race of Munis. Swam (Dharamaya) irayati is the etymology. Ajnata-charitam-dharan applied to Krishna-Dwaipayana. If it be read charam it would refer to Maitreya. 532. Prithagatman implies one whose soul is still invested with upadhis; Sukhatman is one whose soul has transcended all upadhis. 533. This literal version of the verse yields no sense. The meaning, however, is this: Atichccheda or Atichcchanda implies a hyperbolic statement, Ativaua means a paradox. It is said that by gift of even a palmful of water one may attain to a place which is attainable by a hundred sacrifices. This ordinance, which looks like a hyperbole, and its statement by Vedic teachers that looks like a paradox, fill me with wonder. The Vedas say that no one attains to such a place without a hundred sacrifices. This seems to be untrue, for people do reach it by making even slight gifts to deserving persons at proper times. 534. The sense is that those who pursue carnal pleasures meet with misery as the end, and those who practise austerities meet with felicity as their reward. 535. To obtain a sight of thee is the reward or result of my own acts. A sight of thy person leads to prosperity, through the kindness thou cherishest for us. 536. The sense is that an ascetic observant of penances, in whatever stage, and a man possessed of omniscience, are regarded as equal. 537. Such an object can never be accomplished. Hence thy paleness and leanness. 538. Though completely innocent, thou hast yet been cursed. The anxiety due to this has made thee so. 539. Yamena praptam is the sense, as explained by the commentator. 540. The sense is this: one should not accept gifts made by a butcher or slayer of animals. Ten butchers are equal to a single oilman. By accepting a gift from an oilman, therefore, one incurs ten times as much sin as by accepting a gift from a butcher. In this way, the measure of sin goes on increasing according to the ratio given. A Nripa, as explained by the commentator, means here a small chief. A small king is equal to ten thousand butchers. A great king, however, is equal to half of that, i.e., five thousand butchers. In other words, by accepting a gift from a great king, a man incurs as much sin as is a full five thousand times of the sin which is incurred by accepting a gift from a butcher. 541. The reason is the declarations in the scriptures to that effect. 542. The sense, as explained by the commentator, is this: the Brahmana who becomes the Ritwik and eats at a Sraddha becomes a Pitri of the person performing the Sraddha. Hence, when his identity has been changed, he should, on that day, abstain from sexual congress with even his own spouse. By indulging in such congress, he incurs the sin of adultery. 543. Batakashaya is explained by the commentator as substance that is named by pounding the hanging roots of the banian. The Priyangu here mentioned is not the Aglaia Roxburghiana but the seed called Rajasarshapa, i.e., Brassica juncea; Sinapis ramasa, Roxb. The Shashtika paddy is that which ripens in sixty days. 544. The sense seems to be that the libations, few and far between, of men who do not daily worship their fire are not borne by the fire to the destined places. 545. Kshirapah means those that depend on the lacteal sustenance, hence, little children. 546. Aurddhsadehikam danam means gifts made in course of Sraddhas and other rites that are observed for improving the position of a deceased person. 547. What is meant by the gift of lamps is the lighting of lamps in the sky. These are placed on long poles which are fastened to the tallest trees. 548. The commentator explains that when evening comes, one should respectfully salute one's own feet. This custom has certainly died out in Bengal. A whirl is certainly observable on cowdung when it first drops from the cow; but the practice of making offering to it has also died out. 549. The second line seems to be unintelligible. The reading I take is Sraddheshu and not Schidreshu. 550. Vows and fasts, &c., should be observed after the Sankalpa or Resolution to that effect has been formally enunciated. Even a plunge in a piece of sacred water cannot be productive of merit unless the Sankalpa has been formally enunciated. The Sankalpa is the enunciation of the purpose for which the act is performed as also of the act that is intended to be performed. 551. Vrishalipati literally means the husband of a Sudra woman. By actually marrying a woman of the lowest order, by marrying before the elder brother, by marrying a girl that has attained to puberty, and by certain other acts, a Brahmana comes to be regarded as a Vrishalipati. 552. Kutapa is the hour about noontide. The shade of the elephant's body implies a particular instant of time that is regarded as very favourable for the Sraddha. The man that performs such a Sraddha is regarded as acquiring the merits attaching to Sraddhas regularly performed for thirteen years. 553. In India the tooth-brush consists of a twig or a little branch. One end of it is chewed and softened. The softened fibres serve the purpose of a brush. Such a brush is used only once. It is thrown away after the brushing of the teeth is over. 554. It is difficult to identify what plants are meant by Karanjaka and Suvarachala. 555. Bhanda includes utensils of copper and brass such as plates and cups and jars and jugs. Broken utensils, to this day, are regarded inauspicious. They are rejected, as a rule, by every family. Kali (Evil?) has his abode in them, meaning that such utensils cause quarrels and disputes. Broken bed-steads also are regarded as capable of causing loss of wealth. Cocks and dogs should never be kept or reared in a house. The roots of trees afford shelter to scorpions and snakes and venomous insects and worms. One should not, therefore, plant trees or allow them to grow up within one's abode. 556. A Brahmana's fire should never be ignited by a Sudra. Women also should never be allowed to assist at Sraddhas for arranging the offerings. 557. Pramathas are the ghostly companions of Mahadeva. Literally, the name implies smiters. 558. Anujnatah literally implies permitted. These creatures, i.e., the kine, were permitted by me, means, perhaps, that they became my favourites. Brahman, it is said, solicited Maheswara to accept some kine in gift. The latter did accept some, and adopt from that time the device of the bull on his flag. 559. Sambhrama here means, probably, joy, or that gratification which shows itself in horripilation. It may also mean alacrity. 560. Upavasa here, as explained by the commentator, is used for Indriyajaya or subjugation of the senses. 561. He who takes his meals at the proper hours is said to observe fasts. He who avoids sexual congress with other women and associates with only his wedded spouse and that at her season, is said to observe Brahmacharya. 562. To sell the Vedas or any kind of knowledge is a great sin. 563. The correct reading of the latter half of the first line is nabaram natirogratah. The commentator explains, this means that 'there is nothing inferior to it or beside it or before it.' In the first part of the first line it has been said that there is nothing superior to it. The sense is that it includes all, being as comprehensive as Brahman. 564. Samprakshalas are those Rishis who wash all their utensils daily so that nothing is stored for them for the next day. Asmakuttas are those that use only two pieces of stone for husking their grain. Dantolukhalas are those that use their teeth for purposes of husking the grain they eat. 565. Swasarirapa-jivishu implies persons that do not stand in need of the services of others for the support of their bodies. 566. The great forests are called Virasthana for cowards cannot enter or reside in them. 567. Marum samsadhya implies abstention from even air and water as food or means of subsistence. 568. It should be noted that the word Vira in the various compounds in which it occurs here, does not mean heroes of war. On the other hand, it signifies heroes of righteousness and penances. The path of heroes is the forest, for cowards cannot go there. The attitude of heroes (Virasana) is a kind of attitude for Yogins to sit in. 569. Nisargat is literally through creation or original nature, or birth. Of course, what is implied is that one becomes a Brahmana, or Kshatriya, or Vaisya or Sudra, through original creation as such, by the Self-born, that is, birth. 570. Ugra means a fierce or cruel person. It is also applied to signify a person of a mixed caste whose occupation is the slaughter of animals in the chase. The commentator is silent. I think, the food supplied by a fierce or cruel person is meant here. What is said in this verse is that the several kinds of food spoken of here should be renounced by a good Brahmana. 571. The sense is this: if a Brahmana dies with any portion of the food of a Sudra, a Vaisya, or a Kshatriya in his stomach, in his next life he has to take birth as a Sudra, a Vaisya, or a Kshatriya. If, again, during life he subsists upon food supplied to him by a Sudra, a Vaisya, or a Kshatriya, he has to take birth in his next life as a Sudra, a Vaisya, or a Kshatriya. 572. Kundasin means a pander. It may also imply one who eats from off the vessel in which the food eaten has been cooked without, that is, using plates or leaves. 573. The sense seems to be this: a Vaisya ultimately becomes a Brahmana by observing the duties indicated in verses 30 to 33. As the immediate reward, however, of his observance of these duties, he becomes a great Kshatriya. What he should next do in order to become a Brahmana is said in the verses that follow. 574. This may, besides, imply the taking of a sixth portion of the merits acquired by his subjects through the righteous deeds they perform. 575. In India an inferior should always stand aside for letting his superior pass. The Kshatriya should give way to the Brahmana, the Vaisya to the Kshatriya, and the Sudra to the Vaisya. 576. i.e. Soul (including the Supreme Soul) and Not-soul. 577. Gauri is another name for Earth. 578. The Nadies or Rivers are feminine. Of course, among Rivers there are some that are masculine, notably, the Sindhu or Indus. Tirthas are places with sacred waters. 579. One who is free from vanity or arrogance deserves to be called Purusha. The absence of vanity is implied by soliciting the help of others even when one is competent oneself. Females follow females, such being their nature. It is a compliment that Parvati pays to Siva for Siva's questioning her when he himself is well-acquainted with the topic upon which she is asked to discourse. 580. The word Sindhu in this verse does not imply the river Indus, but stands for a river in general. Grammatically, it qualifies Devika before it. Devika is another name of Sarayu. 581. According to the Hindu scriptures, marriage is not a contract. It is the union of two individuals of opposite sexes into one person for better performance of all deeds of piety. 582. Trivikrama is one who covered the three worlds with three steps of his. It implies Vishnu who assumed the form of a dwarf for beguiling the Asura king Vali. 583. The sense seems to be this: Thou knowest all things, all mysteries, yet Thou canst bear all this knowledge within Thyself. We, however, are so light-minded, i.e., destitute of gravity, that we are unable to bear within ourselves the knowledge of a mystery. As soon as we got that knowledge from Mahadeva, we felt the desire of letting it out; and, indeed, we have let it out at thy request, and let out unto whom?--unto one that must be secretly laughing at us for our seeming pride. 584. It is said that no person wishes to be vanquished by another in respect of anything. The only one whose victory or superiority, however, is bearable or, rather, prayed for, is the son. Hence, the Rishis wish unto Krishna a son even superior to him. 585. The ward Pushti literally signifies growth or advancement. Hence, it stands generally for excellence of greatness. 586. The correct reading is not pratisrayam but pratisravam which means promise or pledge. 587. The pledge, probably, refers to the oaths taken by Bhima and others about the slaughter of the Kauravas. 588. The sense is this: the king acquires great merit by wielding the rod of chastisement properly, i.e., by punishing those that deserve punishment. The infliction of punishment is what keeps the subjects within the restraints of duty. The rod of chastisement, therefore, is the very embodiment of the righteousness or merit of the king. 589. Vasudeva is Narayana, and Arjuna is Nara. Nara and Narayana had practised severe penances at Vadari on the breast of the Himavat for many thousand years. Vyasa afterwards adopted Vadari as his retreat. 590. The Hindu sages never attempt to speculate on the original creation of the universe. Their speculations, however, are concerned with what is called Avantara srishti or that creation which springs forth with the awakening of Brahman. Creation and Destruction have occurred ceaselessly and will occur ceaselessly. The original creation is impossible to conceive as Eternity cannot have a beginning. 591. Putatman means, of cleansed Soul. This implies that though He is the Lord or ruler of all existent objects, yet He is dissociated from them. The Refuge of the Emancipated--Comp. Gita, 'Mamupetya tu Kaunteya punarjanma na vidyate,' etc., Purusha is He that lies in a pura or the nine-doored mansion, i.e., the body. Sakshi or Witness implies that He sees all things directly, without any medium obstructing His vision. Kshetrajna implies the Chit lying within the body and who knows the body; however, being inert, is not cognisant of the Chit it holds. 592. He is called Yoga because of the mind resting upon Him while it is in Yoga abstraction. Pradhana, in Sankhya philosophy, is another name of Prakriti or original Nature. All things have sprung from the union of Prakriti and Purusha. Vasudeva, however, transcends Prakriti and Purusha and is their Lord. Narasinghavapu--He assumed the human form with a lion's head for slaying the Asura Hiranyakasipu, the father of Prahlada. 593. Sarva implies the source of all existent and non-existent things and that in which all existent and non-existent things become merged at the universal dissolution. Sambhava signifies Him who takes birth at His own will. Acts cannot touch him. The birth of all other beings is determined by their acts in previous lives. Com. Gita, Paritranaya sadhunam etc. sambhavami yuge yuge. Bhuvana means one who attaches to acts their respective fruits i.e., he in consequence of whom the weal and woe of all creatures flow as due to acts. 594. Sambhu implies one whose birth has not been determined by extraneous circumstances, or other influences than his own wish, the birth of all other creatures being determined by forces extraneous to themselves. Aditya may also mean the foremost one among the deities especially called the Adityas. They are twelve in number. Dhatri may also imply one who upholds everything in the universe by multiplying Himself infinitely. Dhaturuttama may, besides, signify one who as Chit is superior to all elements like Earth, Water, etc., which constitute all that is not-Chit. 595. Aprameya is, literally, immeasurable. Sankara thus explains it: He has no such attributes as sound, etc; in consequence of this He is not an object of direct perception by the sense; nor can He be an object of inference, in consequence of there being nothing to which belong the same attributes as His, etc. His inconceivability is the foundation of His immeasurableness. Hrishikesa is regarded by European scholars as a doubtful word. The Hindu commentators do not regard it so. It implies the lord of the senses i.e., One who has his sense under complete control. Or, it may mean One who sways the sense of others, i.e., causes them to exercise their functions. Sankara proposes another meaning, viz. He that is the form of the Sun or the Moon and as such, the rays of light emanating from those luminaries and gladdening all creatures, are the hairs on His head. Manu is another name for Mantra or sacred words having great efficacy. 596. Krishna is one of the foremost names of the supreme God-head. It means One who is always in transports of joy. It is derived from krish which implies to be, and na meaning final Emancipation or cessation of existence; the compound probably means One in whom every attribute has been extinguished; hence, absence of change, of sorrow, of gift, etc., or, eternal and highest joy. Lohitaksha is Red-eyed, from His eyes being of the hue of polished copper. Pratardana, according to Sankara, means the killer of all creatures. Others take it as implying one who destroys the cheerlessness of his worshippers. Prabhuta is One who is Great or Vast in consequence of Knowledge, Puissance, Energy, and Renunciation, etc.; Pavitram, Mangalam, Param should be taken as one name, although each of them has a separate meaning. 597. Pranada is interpreted variously. It may mean He that causes the life-breaths to operate; He that, as Time suspends the life-breaths (i.e., kills all creatures); He that connects the life-breaths (i.e., set them a-going when threatened with extinction; hence, healer of diseases). Prana implies He who is the cause of the life of every living creature being Himself, as it were, the life-breath that inspires them. Hiranyagarbha signifies He that is identical with the Grandsire. Bhugarbha is one who has the Earth for his abdomen, implying that all things on Earth are in His abdomen. 598. Atmavan, other Beings are said to be Sariravan, Indriyavan, etc., in consequence of the possession of such attributes as Sarira, Indriya, etc. But the Supreme God-head is nothing but soul. He rests on his own true nature or essence without requiring anything extraneous like the deities or human beings whereon to live or exist, 599. Aha is the day; He is so called because of Jiva being, as it were, awakened when he goes to Him. As long as Jiva is at a distance from Him, he is steeped in the sleep of Avidya or Nescience (a happy word which Professor Max Muller has coined) Samvatsara or the year. He is so called because Time is His essence. Vyala--He is a huge and fierce snake that inspires dread. 600. Vrishakapi is otherwise explained by Valadeva Vidyabhushan, as He that showers blessings upon His worshippers and causes all His foes to tremble with fear. 601. Vishnu is supposed to be within the constellation called Sisumara or the Northern Bear. The stars, without changing their places per se, seem to revolve round this point within the constellation named. 602. In India, no man should worship the deities, with a full stomach. Indeed, one must abstain from every kind of food and drink if one has to worship the deities formally. 603. Rama of Bhrigu's race went to Mahadeva for acquiring the science of arms. While dwelling in Siva's retreat, he had a quarrel with Karttikeya or Kumara, the son of Siva's loins. Rama worsted his preceptor's son in battle, at which his preceptor, gratified with him, made him a present of his own battle-axe, wherewith the regenerate hero exterminated the Kshatriyas for full one and twenty times. 604. Many of these words beginning with Mahat represent Krishna's own words as spoken to Arjuna in the Gita. 'I am the foremost of sacrifices; I am the foremost of sacrificers,' etc. 605. Referring to Hanumat and others among the apes that Rama led against Ravana. 606. The universe consists of Soul and Not-soul. Jiva, when cased in matter or Not-soul takes Not-soul for himself, in his ignorance. In fact until true knowledge is attained, the body is taken for self. 607. The sense is that untimely deaths do not occur in such places; nor fear of oppression or unlawful chastisement by the king; etc. 608. The Bengal reading mrishtascha varina is incorrect. The Bombay reading mrishtasya varinsha is correct. 609. The word kavi used in this verse, means Agni or fire, as explained by the commentator. One of the vernacular translators wrongly takes it as implying the preceptor Sukara. 610. The last verse, as read in the Bengal texts, is vicious. Nastyandam astitu Brahma, etc., is the correct reading. 611. To an afflicted person the day seems long. 612. The sense is that it is this Kesava who upholds the cause of Righteousness when dangers overtake it, cf. 'Yada yada hi dharmasya, etc.' in the Gita. It does not mean that when doubts are entertained by persons on questions of morality, it is Kesava who dispels them. 613. Refers to the existence of Brahma when all else is nought. 614. The fivefold seed consists of the four orders of creatures and acts which determine the conditions of all beings. 615. Eagle marmelos, Linn. 616. Durvasa is regarded as a portion of Mahadeva. The question of Yudhishthira, therefore, really relates to Mahadeva although the name that occurs is of Durvasa. 617. A Parvam is a knot. Reeds and bamboos consist of a series of knots. The space between two knots is called a Salya. 618. The allusion is to the fiery mare's head which is supposed to wander through the ocean. 619. Verses 4 to 9 are extremely difficult. They represent so many surceases. Nilakantha, however, has shown great ingenuity in expounding them. In the first line of 4, drishtam refers to pratyaksham, and srutam to sruti or agama. Hence, what is meant by the first line is,--Innumerable are the cases of both direct perception and scriptural assertion in which the scriptures are regarded as more authoritative, and those is which direct perception is regarded as more authoritative. In 5, the speaker refers to the atomic and other theories of the creation derived from Reason. Bhishma declares it as his opinion that all such theories are untenable or groundless. In the first line of 6, the word Ekam implies Brahma. The sense is, if thou thinkest that Brahma alone is the cause of the universe and in thinking so becomest landed on doubt. The reply to this is that Yoga for a long course of years will enable thee to comprehend the sufficiency of unassisted Brahma to evolve the universe. In 7, anekam pranayatram kalpamanena refers to one who without leading any particular or settled mode of life lives just as it suits him to live, that is, who leads the life of a religious mendicant never thinking of the morrow. In 9, anihaddham vacha implies what is not defined or indicated by the words of the Vedas or scriptures. The Burdwan Pundits have made a mess of the whole passage, or, rather, of nearly the whole of this section. 620. Teshu is equivalent to praryakshanumanachareshu. The sense, therefore, is that the three, viz., direct perception, inference, and good conduct being, for these reasons, fallible, the only infallible standard that remain, is audition of the scriptures, or, as verse 14 puts it, men with understandings born of the scriptures. 621. Atripyantah are men who like Yudhishthira are filled with anxiety as to what they should do. Seekers after the right are so called. 622. The five who must be first fed are the deities, the Pitris, the guests, diverse creatures included under the word Bhutus, and lastly relatives. 623. Some texts read nabhibhavet, meaning one should never vanquish an old man (i.e., assert one's superiority over him). 624. In his excellent work on the Curiosities of Literature Mr. D'Israeli attempts to trace the origin of the custom of uttering a blessing on people who sneeze. The custom seems, however, to be very ancient and widespread. It exists to this day in India, among the Hindus at any rate, as it existed in the days of the Mahabharata. 625. It seems that the author is of opinion that one lightens one's sins by admissions before the wise. To conceal a sin after having committed it proves the confirmed sinner. 626. 'Covered by righteousness' implies 'if, having once tripped, the sinner restrains himself and engages to do acts of righteousness.' 627. What is stated here is this: the condition of all living creatures is determined by their acts of this and past lives. Nature, again, is the cause of acts. What of felicity and misery, therefore, one sees in this world, must be ascribed to these two causes. As regards the self also, O Yudhishthira, thou art not freed from that universal law. Do thou, therefore, cease to cherish doubts of any kind. If thou seest a learned man that is poor, or an ignorant man that is wealthy, if thou seest exertion failing and the absence of exertion leading to success, thou must always ascribe the result to acts and Nature. 628. What is stated here is this: one may become righteous by accomplishing oneself righteous deeds or inducing or helping others to do them. Similarly, one becomes unrighteous by doing oneself acts that are evil or by inducing or helping others to do them. 629. Righteousness leads to regions of felicity. The former is said to be eternal, while the latter are not so. The question asked (or doubt raised) is why is the effect not eternal when the cause is eternal? It is explained below. 630. There are two kinds of Righteousness, viz., nishkama and sakama. The former leads to attainment of Brahma, the latter to heaven and felicity. Brahma is eternal; the latter not so. Nishkama Righteousness being eternal, leads to an eternal reward. Sakama Righteousness not being so, does not lead to an eternal reward. The word Kala here means Sankalpa, hence Dhruvahkalah means nishkama Dharma. 631. Here, Calah means 'Sankalpa'. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 14 ASWAMEDHA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned at sacred-texts.com, January 2004. Proofed by John Bruno Hare. THE MAHABHARATA ASWAMEDHA PARVA SECTION I (Aswamedhika Parva) OM! HAVING BOWED down unto Narayana, and Nara the foremost of male beings, and unto the goddess Saraswati, must the word Jaya be uttered. "Vaisampayana said, 'After the king Dhritarashtra had offered libations of water (unto the manes of Bhisma), the mighty-armed[1] Yudhishthira, with his senses bewildered, placing the former in his front, ascended the banks (of the river), his eyes suffused with tears, and dropt down on the bank of the Ganga like an elephant pierced by the hunter. Then incited by Krishna, Bhima took him up sinking. "This must not be so," said Krishna, the grinder of hostile hosts. The Pandavas, O king, saw Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, troubled and lying on the ground, and also sighing again and again. And seeing the king despondent and feeble, the Pandavas, overwhelmed with grief, sat down, surrounding him. And endowed with high intelligence and having the sight of wisdom, king Dhritarashtra, exceedingly afflicted with grief for his sons, addressed the monarch, saying,--"Rise up, O thou tiger among the Kurus. Do thou now attend to thy duties. O Kunti's son, thou hast conquered this Earth according to the usage of the Kshatriyas. Do thou now, O lord of men, enjoy her with thy brothers and friends. O foremost of the righteous, I do not see why thou shouldst grieve. O lord of the Earth, having lost a hundred sons like unto riches obtained in a dream, it is Gandhari and I, who should mourn. Not having listened to the pregnant words of the high-souled Vidura, who sought our welfare, I, of perverse senses, (now) repent. The virtuous Vidura, endowed with divine insight, had told me,--'Thy race will meet with annihilation owing to the transgressions of Duryodhana. O king, if thou wish for the weal of thy line, act up to my advice. Cast off this wicked-minded monarch, Suyodhana, and let not either Karna or Sakuni by any means see him. Their gambling too do thou, without making any fuss suppress, and anoint the righteous king Yudhishthira. That one of subdued senses will righteously govern the Earth. If thou wouldst not have king Yudhishthira, son of Kunti, then, O monarch, do thou, performing a sacrifice, thyself take charge of the kingdom, and regarding all creatures with an even eye, O lord of men, do thou let thy kinsmen, O thou advancer of thy kindred, subsist on thy bounty.' When, O Kunti's son, the far-sighted Vidura said this, fool that I was I followed the wicked Duryodhana. Having turned a deaf ear to the sweet speech of that sedate one, I have obtained this mighty sorrow as a consequence, and have been plunged in an ocean of woe. Behold thy old father and mother, O king, plunged in misery. But, O master of men, I find no occasion for thy grief."'" SECTION II "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by the intelligent king Dhritarashtra Yudhishthira, possessed of understanding, became calm. And then Kesava (Krishna) accosted him,--"If a person indulges excessively in sorrow for his departed forefathers, he grieves them. (Therefore, banishing grief), do thou (now) celebrate many a sacrifice with suitable presents to the priests; and do thou gratify the gods with Soma liquor, and the manes of thy forefathers with their due food and drink. Do thou also gratify thy guests with meat and drink and the destitute with gifts commensurate with their desires. A person of thy high intelligence should not bear himself thus. What ought to be known hath been known by thee; what ought to be done, hath also been performed. And thou hast heard the duties of the Kshatriyas, recited by Bhishma, the son of Bhagirathi, by Krishna Dwaipayana, Narada and Vidura. Therefore thou shouldst not walk the way of the stupid; but pursuing the course of thy forefathers, sustain the burthen (of the empire). It is meet that a Kshatriya should attain heaven for certain by his (own) renown. Of heroes, those that came to be slain never shall have to turn away (from the celestial regions). Renounce thy grief, O mighty sovereign. Verily, what hath happened was destined to happen so. Thou canst in no wise see those that have been slain in this war."--Having said this unto Yudhishthira, prince of the pious, the high-spirited Govinda paused; and Yudhishthira answered him thus, "O Govinda, full well do I know thy fondness for me. Thou hast ever favoured me with thy love and thy friendship. And, O holder of the mace and the discus, O scion of Yadu's race, O glorious one, if (now) with a pleased mind thou dost permit me to go to the ascetic's retreat in the woods, then thou wouldst compass what is highly desired by me. Peace find I none after having slain my grand-father, and that foremost of men, Karna, who never fled from the field of battle. Do thou, O Janarddana, so order that I may be freed from this heinous sin and that my mind may be purified." As Pritha's son was speaking thus, the highly-energetic Vyasa, cognisant of the duties of life, soothing him, spoke these excellent words, "My child, thy mind is not yet calmed; and therefore thou art again stupefied by a childish sentiment. And wherefore, O child, do we over and over again scatter our speech to the winds? Thou knowest duties of the Kshatriyas, who live by warfare. A king that hath performed his proper part should not suffer himself to be overwhelmed by sorrow. Thou hast faithfully listened to the entire doctrine of salvation; and I have repeatedly removed thy misgivings arising out of desire. But not paying due heed to what I have unfolded, thou of perverse understanding hast doubtless forgotten it clean. Be it not so. Such ignorance is not worthy of thee. O sinless one, thou knowest all kinds of expiation; and thou hast also heard of the virtues of kings as well as the merits of gifts. Wherefore then, O Bharata, acquainted with every morality and versed in all the Agamas, art thou overwhelmed (with grief) as if from ignorance?"'" SECTION III "'Vyasa said, "O Yudhishthira, thy wisdom, I conceive, is not adequate. None doth any act by virtue of his own power. It is God, who engageth him in acts good or bad, O bestower of honour. Where then is the room for repentance? Thou deemest thyself as having perpetrated impious acts. Do thou, therefore, O Bharata, harken as to the way in which sin may be removed. O Yudhishthira, those that commit sins, can always free themselves from them through penance, sacrifice and gifts. O king, O foremost of men, sinful people are purified by sacrifice, austerities and charity. The high-souled celestials and Asuras perform sacrifices for securing religious merit; and therefore sacrifice are of supreme importance. It is through sacrifices that the high-souled celestials had waxed so wondrously powerful; and having celebrated rites did they vanquish the Danavas. Do thou, O Yudhishthira, prepare for the Rajasuya, and the horse-sacrifice, as well as, O Bharata, for the Sarvamedha and the Naramedha.[2] And then as Dasaratha's son, Rama, or as Dushmanta's and Sakuntala's son, thy ancestor, the lord of the Earth, the exceedingly puissant king Bharata, had done, do thou agreeably to the ordinance celebrate the Horse-sacrifice with Dakshinas." Yudhishthira replied, "Beyond a doubt, the Horse-sacrifice purifieth princes. But I have a purpose of which it behoveth thee to hear. Having caused this huge carnage of kindred, I cannot, O best of the regenerate ones, dispense gifts even on a small scale; I have no wealth to give. Nor can I for wealth solicit these juvenile sons of kings, staying in sorry plight, with their wounds yet green, and undergoing suffering. How, O foremost of twice-born ones, having myself destroyed the Earth can I, overcome by sorrow, levy dues for celebrating a sacrifice? Through Duryodhana's fault, O best of ascetics, the kings of the Earth have met with destruction, and we have reaped ignominy. For wealth Duryodhana hath wasted the Earth; and the treasury of that wicked-minded son of Dhritarashtra is empty. (In this sacrifice), the Earth is the Dakshina; this is the rule that is prescribed in the first instance. The usual reversal of this rule, though sanctioned, is observed, by the learned as such. Nor, O ascetic, do I like to have a substitute (for this process). In this matter, O reverend sir, it behoveth thee to favour me with thy counsel." Thus addressed by Pritha's son, Krishna Dwaipayana, reflecting for a while, spoke unto the righteous king,--"This treasury, (now) exhausted, shall be full. O son of Pritha, in the mountain Himavat (The Himalayas) there is gold which had been left behind by Brahmanas at the sacrifice of the high-souled Marutta."[3] Yudhishthira asked, "How in that sacrifice celebrated by Marutta was so much gold amassed? And, O foremost of speakers, when did he reign?" Vyasa said "If, O Pritha's son, thou art anxious to hear concerning that king sprung from the Karandhama race, then listen to me as I tell thee when that highly powerful monarch possessed of immense wealth reigned."'" SECTION IV "'Yudhishthira said, "O righteous one, I am desirous of hearing the history of that royal sage Marutta. Do thou, O Dwaipayana, relate this unto me, O sinless one." "'Vyasa said, "O child, in the Krita age Manu was lord (of the Earth) wielding the sceptre. His son was known under the name of Prasandhi. Prasandhi had a son named Kshupa, Kshupa's son was that lord (of men), king Ikshwaku. He, O king, had a hundred sons endowed with pre-eminent piety. And all of them were made monarchs by king Ikshwaku. The eldest of them, Vinsa by name became the model of bowmen. Vinsa's son, O Bharata, was the auspicious Vivinsa. Vivinsa, O king, had five and ten sons; all of them were powerful archers, reverencial to the Brahmanas and truthful, gentle and ever speaking fair. The eldest brother, Khaninetra, oppressed all his brothers. And having conquered the entire kingdom rid of all troubles, Khaninetra could not retain his supremacy; nor were the people pleased with him. And dethroning him, they, O foremost of monarchs, invested his son Suvarcha with the rights of sovereignty and (having effected this) experienced joy (in their hearts). Seeing the reverses sustained by his sire as well as his expulsion from the empire, he was ever intent on bringing about the welfare of the people, being devoted to the Brahmanas, speaking the truth, practising purity and restraining his senses and thoughts. And the subjects were well pleased with that high-minded one constant in virtue. But he being constantly engaged in virtuous deeds, his treasures and vehicles became greatly reduced. And on his treasury having become depleted, the feudatory princes swarming round him began to give him trouble. Being thus oppressed by many foes while his treasury, horses and vehicles were impoverished, the king underwent great tribulation along with his retainers and the denizens of his capital. Although his power waned greatly, yet the foes could not slay the king, for his power, O Yudhishthira, was established in righteousness. And when he had reached the extreme of misery along with the citizens, he blew his hand (with his mouth), and from that there appeared a supply of forces. And then he vanquished all the kings living along the borders of his dominions. And from this circumstance O king, he hath been celebrated as Karandhama. His son, (the first) Karandhama who was born at the beginning of the Treta age, equalled Indra himself and was endowed with grace, and invincible even by the immortals. At that time all the kings were under his control; and alike by virtue of his wealth and for his prowess, he became their emperor. In short, the righteous king Avikshit by name, became like unto Indra himself in heroism; and he was given to sacrifices, delight took in virtue and held his senses under restraint. And in energy he resembled the sun and in forbearance Earth herself; in intelligence, he was like Vrihaspati, and in calmness the mountain Himavat himself. And that king delighted the hearts of his subjects by act, thought, speech, self-restraint, and forbearance. He performed hundreds of horse-sacrifices, and the potent and learned Angira himself served him as priest. His son surpassed his sire in the possession of good qualities. Named Marutta, that lord of kings was righteous and of great renown, and possessed the might of ten thousand elephants. He was like unto Vishnu's second self. Desirous of celebrating a sacrifice, that virtuous monarch, coming to Mount Meru on the northern side of Himavat, caused thousands of shining golden vessels to be forged. There on a huge golden hill he performed the rites. And goldsmiths made basins and vessels and pans and seats without number. And the sacrificial ground was near this place. And that righteous lord of Earth, king Marutta, along with other princes, performed a sacrifice there."'" SECTION V "'Yudhishthira said, "O best of speakers, how did that king become so powerful? And how, O twice-born one, did he obtain so much gold? And where now, O reverend sire, is all his wealth? And, O ascetic, how can we secure the same?" "'Vyasa thereupon said,--"As the numerous offspring of the Prajapati Daksha, the Asuras and the Celestials challenged each other (to encounter), so in the same way Angira's sons, the exceedingly energetic Vrihaspati and the ascetic, Samvarta, of equal vows, challenged each other, O king. Vrihaspati began to worry Samvarta again and again. And constantly troubled by his elder brother, he, O Bharata, renouncing his riches, went to the woods, with nothing to cover his body save the open sky.[4] (At that time), Vasava having vanquished and destroyed the Asuras, and obtained the sovereignty of the celestial regions had appointed as his priest Angira's eldest son, that best of Brahmanas, Vrihaspati. Formerly Angira was the family-priest of king Karandhama. Matchless among men in might, prowess and character; powerful like unto Satakratu, righteous souled and of rigid vows, O king, he had vehicles, and warriors, and many adherents, and superb and costly bedsteads, produced through dint of meditation by the breath of his mouth. And by his native virtues, the monarch had brought all the princes under his sway. And having lived as long as he desired, he ascended to the heaven in his corporal embodiment. And his son named Avikshit--conqueror of foes,--righteous like unto Yayati, brought all the Earth under his dominion. And both in merit and might the king resembled his sire. He had a son named Marutta, endowed with energy, and resembling Vasava himself. This earth clad in oceans, felt herself drawn towards him. He always[5] used to defy the lord of the celestials; and O son of Pandu, Vasava also defied Marutta. And Marutta,--master of Earth--was pure and possessed of perfections. And in spite of his striving, Sakra could not prevail over him. And incapable of controlling him, he riding on the horse, along with the celestials summoning Vrihaspati, spoke to him thus, 'O Vrihaspati, if thou wishest to do what is agreeable to me, do not perform priestly offices for Marutta on behalf of the deities or the ancestral Manes. I have, O Vrihaspati, obtained the sovereignty of the three worlds, while Marutta is merely the lord of the Earth. How, O Brahmana, having acted as priest unto the immortal king of the celestials, wilt thou unhesitatingly perform priestly function unto Marutta subject to death? Good betide thee! Either espouse my side or that of the monarch, Marutta or forsaking Marutta, gladly come over to me.'--Thus accosted by the sovereign of the celestials, Vrihaspati, reflecting for a moment, replied unto the king of the immortals. 'Thou art the Lord of creatures, and in thee are the worlds established, And thou hast destroyed Namuchi, Viswarupa and Vala. Thou, O hero, alone encompassest the highest prosperity of the celestials, and, O slayer of Vala, thou sustainest the earth as well as the heaven. How, O foremost of the celestials, having officiated as thy priest, shall I, O chastiser of Paka, serve a mortal prince? Do thou listen to what I say. Even if the god of fire cease to cause heat and warmth, or the earth change its nature, or the sun ceases to give light, I shall never deviate from the truth (that I have spoken).'" "Vaisampayana continued,--'On hearing this speech from Vrihaspati Indra became cured of his envious feelings, and then praising him he repaired to his own mansion.'" SECTION VI "'Vyasa said, "The ancient legend of Vrihaspati and the wise Marutta is cited in this connection. On hearing of the compact made by Angira's son Vrihaspati with the lord of the gods (Indra), king Marutta made the necessary preparations for a great sacrifice. The eloquent grandson of Karandhama, (Marutta) having conceived the idea of a sacrifice in his mind, went to Vrihaspati and addressed him thus, 'O worshipful ascetic, I have intended to perform the sacrifice which thou didst propose to me once on a previous occasion and in accordance with thy instructions, and I now desire to appoint thee as officiating priest in this sacrifice, the materials whereof have also been collected by me.--O excellent one, thou art our family priest, therefore do thou take those sacrificial things and perform the sacrifice thyself.' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'O lord of the earth, I do not desire to perform thy sacrifice. I have been appointed as priest by the Lord of the gods (Indra) and I have promised to him to act as such.' "'"Marutta said, 'Thou art our hereditary family priest, and for this reason I entertain great regard for thee, and I have acquired the right of being assisted at sacrifices by thee, and therefore it is meet that thou shouldst officiate as priest at my sacrifice.' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'Having, O Marutta, acted as priest to the Immortals, how can I act as such to mortal men, and whether thou dost depart hence or stay, I tell thee, I have ceased to act as priest to any but the Immortals. O thou of mighty arms, I am unable to act as thy priest now. And according to thy own desire, thou canst appoint any one as thy priest who will perform thy sacrifice.'" "'Vyasa said, "Thus told, king Marutta became confused with shame, and while returning home with his mind oppressed by anxiety, he met Narada on his way. And that monarch on seeing the divine Rishi Narada stood before him with due salutation, with his hands clasped together. Then Narada addressing him thus said,--'O royal sage, thou seemest to be not well-pleased in thy mind; is all well with thee? Where hast thou been, O sinless one, and whence the cause of this thy mental disquietude? And, O king, if there be no objection to thy telling it to me, do thou, O best of kings, disclose (the cause of thy anxiety) to me, so that, O prince, I may allay the disquietude of thy mind with all my efforts.'"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by the great Rishi Narada, king Marutta informed him of the rebuff he had received from his religious preceptor.' "'"Marutta said, 'Seeking for a priest to officiate at my sacrifice, I went to that priest of the Immortals, Vrihaspati, the son of Angira, but he did not choose to accept my offer. Having met with this rebuff from him, I have no desire to live any longer now, for by his abandoning me thus, I have, O Narada, become contaminated with sin.'" "'Vyasa said, "Thus told by that king, Narada, O mighty prince, made this reply to him with words which seemed to revive that son of Avikshit.' "'"Narada said, 'The virtuous son of Angira, Samvarta by name is wandering over all the quarters of the earth in a naked state to the wonder of all creatures; do thou, O prince, go to him. If Vrihaspati does not desire to officiate at thy sacrifice, the powerful Samvarta, if pleased with thee, will perform thy sacrifice.' "'"Marutta said, 'I feel as if instilled with new life, by these thy words, O Narada, but O the best of speakers, do thou tell me where I can find Samvarta, and how I can remain by his side, and how I am to act so that he may not abandon me, for I do not desire to live if I meet with a rebuff from him also.' "'"Narada said, 'Desirous of seeing Maheswara, O prince, he wanders about at his pleasure in the city of Varanasi, in the garb of a mad man. And having reached the gate of that city, thou must place a dead body somewhere near it, and the man who shall turn away on seeing the corpse, do thou, O prince, know that man to be Samvarta, and knowing him, do thou follow his footsteps wheresoever that powerful man chooses to go and finding him (at length) in a lonely place thou must seek his protection with thy hands clasped together in supplication to him. And if he enquires of thee as to the person who has given thee the information about his own self, do thou tell him that Narada has informed thee about Samvarta. And if he should ask thee to follow me, thou must tell him without any hesitation, that I have entered into the fire.'" "'Vyasa said, "Having signified his assent to the proposal of Narada, that royal sage after duly worshipping him, and taking his permission, repaired to the city of Varanasi, and having reached there, that famous prince did as he had been told, and remembering the words of Narada, he placed a corpse at the gate of the city. And by coincidence, that Brahmana also entered the gate of the city at the same time. Then on beholding the corpse, he suddenly turned away. And on seeing him turn back, that prince, the son of Avikshit followed his footsteps with his hands clasped together, and with the object of receiving instruction from him. And then finding him in a lonely place, Samvarta covered the king with mud and ashes and phlegm and spittle. And though thus worried and oppressed by Samvarta, the king followed that sage with his hands clasped together in supplication and trying to appease him. At length overcome with fatigue, and reaching the cool shade of a sacred fig tree with many branches, Samvarta desisted from his course and sat himself to rest."'" SECTION VII "'"Samvarta said, 'How hast thou come to know me, and who has referred thee to me, do thou tell this to me truly, if thou wishest me to do what is good to thee. And if thou speak truly, thou shalt attain all the objects of thy desire, and shouldst thou tell a lie, thy head shall be riven in a hundred pieces.' "'"Marutta said, 'I have been told by Narada, wandering on his way, that thou art the son of our family-priest, and this (information) has inclined my mind (towards thee), with exquisite satisfaction.' "'"Samvarta said, 'Thou hast told this to me truly. He (Narada) knows me to be a performer of sacrifices. Now tell me where is Narada living at present.' "'"Marutta said, 'That prince of celestial saints (Narada) having given me this information about thee, and commended me to thy care, has entered into the fire.'" "'Vyasa said, "Hearing these words from the king (Marutta) Samvarta was highly gratified, and he said (addressing Marutta), 'I too am quite able to do all that.' Then, O prince, that Brahmana, raving like a lunatic, and repeatedly scolding Marutta with rude words, again accosted him thus, 'I am afflicted with a cerebral disorder, and, I always act according to the random caprices of my own mind. Why art thou bent upon having this sacrifice performed by a priest of such a singular disposition? My brother is able to officiate at sacrifices, and he has gone over to Vasava (Indra), and is engaged in performing his sacrifices, do thou therefore have thy sacrifice performed by him. My elder brother has forcibly taken away from me all my household goods and mystical gods, and sacrificing clients, and has now left to me only this physical body of mine, and, O son of Avikshit, as he is worthy of all respect from me, I cannot by any means officiate at thy sacrifice, unless with his permission. Thou must therefore go to Vrihaspati first, and taking his permission thou canst come back to me, if thou hast any desire to perform a sacrifice, and then only shall I officiate at thy sacrifice.' "'"Marutta said, 'Do thou listen to me, O Samvarta, I did go to Vrihaspati first, but desiring the patronage of Vasava, he did not wish to have me as his sacrificer. He said, "Having secured the priesthood of the Immortals, I do not desire to act for mortals, and, I have been forbidden by Sakra (Indra) to officiate at Marutta's sacrifice, as he told me that Marutta having become lord of the earth, was always filled with a desire to rival him." And to this thy brother assented by saying to the Slayer of Vala (Indra),--"Be it so." Know thou, O best of ascetics, that as he had succeeded in securing the protection of the Lord of the Celestials, I repaired to him with gratified heart, but he did not agree to act as my priest. And thus repulsed, I now desire to spend all I possess, to have this sacrifice performed by thee, and to outstrip Vasava by the merit of thy good offices. As I have been repulsed by Vrihaspati for no fault of mine, I have now no desire, O Brahmana, to go to him to seek his aid in this sacrifice.' "'"Samvarta said, 'I can certainly, O king, accomplish all that thou desirest, if only thou agree to do all that I shall ask thee to do, but I apprehend that Vrihaspati and Purandara (Indra) when they will learn that I am engaged in performing thy sacrifice, will be filled with wrath, and do all they can to injure thee. Therefore, do thou assure me of thy steadfastness, so as to ensure my coolness and constancy, as otherwise, if I am filled with wrath against thee, I shall reduce (destroy) thee and thy kindred to ashes.' "'"Marutta said, 'If ever I forsake thee, may I never attain the blessed regions as long as the mountains shall exist, and the thousand-rayed sun continue to emit heat: if I forsake thee, may I never attain true wisdom, and remain for ever addicted to worldly (material) pursuits.' "'"Samvarta said, 'Listen, O son of Avikshit, excellent as it is the bent of thy mind to perform this act, so too, O king, have I in my mind the ability to perform the sacrifice, I tell thee, O king, that thy good things will become imperishable, and that thou shalt lord it over Sakra and the Celestials with Gandharvas. For myself, I have no desire to amass wealth or sacrificial presents, I shall only do what is disagreeable to both Indra and my brother, I shall certainly make thee attain equality with Sakra, and I tell thee truly that I shall do what is agreeable to thee.'"'" SECTION VIII "'"Samvarta said, 'There is a peak named Munjaban on the summits of the Himalaya mountains, where the adorable Lord of Uma (Mahadeva) is constantly engaged in austere devotional exercises. There the mighty and worshipful god of great puissance, accompanied by his consort Uma, and armed with his trident, surrounded by wild goblins of many sorts, pursuing his random wish or fancy, constantly resides in the shade of giant forest trees, or in the caves, or on the rugged peaks of the great mountain. And there the Rudras, the Saddhyas, Viswedevas, the Vasus, Yama, Varuna, and Kuvera with all his attendants, and the spirits and goblins, and the two Aswins, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, the Yakshas, as also the celestial sages, the Sun-gods, as well as the gods presiding over the winds, and evil spirits of all sorts, worship the high-souled lord of Uma, possessed of diverse characteristics. And there, O king, the adorable god sports with the wild and playful followers of Kuvera, possessed of weird and ghostly appearances. Glowing with its own splendour, that mountain looks resplendent as the morning sun. And no creature with his natural eyes made of flesh, can ever ascertain its shape or configuration, and neither heat nor cold prevails there, nor doth the sun shine nor do the winds blow. And, O king, neither doth senility nor hunger, nor thirst, nor death, nor fear afflict any one at that place. And, O foremost of conquerors, on all sides of that mountain, there exist mines of gold, resplendent as the rays of the sun. And O king, the attendants of Kuvera, desirous of doing good to him, protect these mines of gold from intruders, with uplifted arms. Hie thee thither, and appease that adorable god who is known by the names of Sarva, Bedha, Rudra, Sitikantha, Surapa, Suvarcha, Kapardi, Karala, Haryyaksha, Varada, Tryaksha, Pushnodantabhid, Vamana, Siva, Yamya, Avyaktarupa, Sadvritta, Sankara, Kshemya, Harikesa, Sthanu, Purusha, Harinetra, Munda, Krishna, Uttarana, Bhaskara, Sutirtha, Devadeva, Ranha, Ushnishi, Suvaktra, Sahasraksha, Midhvan, Girisa, Prasanta, Yata, Chiravasa, Vilwadanda, Siddha, Sarvadandadhara, Mriga, Vyadha, Mahan, Dhanesa, Bhava, Vara, Somavaktra, Siddhamantra, Chakshu, Hiranyavahu, Ugra, Dikpati, Lelihana, Goshtha, Shiddhamantra, Vrishnu, Pasupati, Bhutapati, Vrisha, Matribhakta, Senani, Madhyama, Sruvahasta, Yati, Dhanwi, Bhargava, Aja, Krishnanetra, Virupaksha, Tikshnadanshtra, Tikshna, Vaiswanaramukha, Mahadyuti, Ananga, Sarva, Dikpati, Bilohita, Dipta, Diptaksha, Mahauja, Vasuretas, Suvapu, Prithu, Kritivasa, Kapalmali, Suvarnamukuta, Mahadeva, Krishna, Tryamvaka, Anagha, Krodhana, Nrisansa, Mridu, Vahusali, Dandi, Taptatapa, Akrurakarma, Sahasrasira, Sahasra-charana, Swadha-swarupa, Vahurupa, Danshtri, Pinaki, Mahadeva, Mahayogi, Avyaya, Trisulahasta, Varada, Tryamvaka, Bhuvaneswara, Tripuraghna, Trinayana, Trilokesa, Mahanja, Sarvabhuta-prabhava, Sarvabhuta-dharana, Dharanidhara, Isana, Sankara, Sarva, Siva, Visveswara, Bhava, Umapati, Pasupati, Viswarupa, Maheswara, Virupaksha, Dasabhuja, Vrishavadhwaja, Ugra, Sthanu, Siva, Rudra, Sarva, Girisa, Iswara, Sitakantha, Aja, Sukra, Prithu, Prithuhara, Vara, Viswarupa, Virupaksha, Vahurupa, Umapati, Anangangahara, Hara, Saranya, Mahadeva, Chaturmukha. There bowing unto that deity, must thou crave his protection. And thus, O prince, making thy submission to that high-souled Mahadeva of great energy, shalt thou acquire that gold. And the men who go there thus, succeed in obtaining the gold.' Thus instructed, Marutta, the son of Karandhama, did as he was advised, and made superhuman arrangements for the performance of his sacrifice. And artisans manufactured vessels of gold for that sacrifice. And Vrihaspati too, hearing of the prosperity of Marutta, eclipsing that of the gods, became greatly grieved at heart, and distressed at the thought that his rival Samvarta should become prosperous, became sick at heart, and the glow of his complexion left him, and his frame became emaciated. And when the lord of the gods came to know that Vrihaspati was much aggrieved, he went to him attended by the Immortals and addressed him thus."'" SECTION IX "'"Indra said, 'Dost thou, O Vrihaspati, sleep in peace, and are thy servants agreeable to thee, dost thou seek the welfare of the gods, and do the gods, O Brahmana, protect thee?' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'I do sleep in peace in my bed, O Lord of the gods, and my servants are to my liking and I always seek the welfare of the gods, and they cherish me well.' "'"Indra said, 'Whence then is this pain, mental or physical, and why art thou pale and altered in appearance (complexion) at present? Tell me, O Brahmana, who those people are, who have caused thee pain, so that I may kill them all.' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'O Indra, I have heard that Marutta will perform a great sacrifice at which exquisite presents will be given by him (to Brahmanas) and that at his sacrifice Samvarta will act as the officiating priest, and therefore do I desire that he may not officiate as priest at that sacrifice.' "'"Indra said, 'Thou, O Brahmana, hast attained all the object of thy desire when thou hast become the excellent priest of the gods, versed in all the sacred hymns, and hast overreached the influence of death and dotage, what can Samvarta do to thee now?' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'Prosperity of a rival is always painful to one's feelings, and for this reason too, thou dost with thy attendant gods persecute the Asuras with their kith and kin, and kill the most prosperous among them; hence, O Lord of the gods, am I changed in appearance at the thought that my rival is prospering, therefore, O Indra, do thou, by all means, restrain Samvarta and king Marutta.' "'"Indra turning to Agni said, 'Do thou, O Jataveda, following my direction, go to king Marutta to present Vrihaspati to him, and say unto him that this Vrihaspati will officiate at his sacrifice and make him immortal.' "'"Agni said, 'I shall presently, O adorable one, repair thither as thy messenger, to present Vrihaspati to king Marutta, and to make Indra's words true, and to show respect to Vrihaspati, Agni departed.'" "'Vyasa said, "Then the high-souled fire-god went on his errand, devastating all the forests and trees, like unto the mighty wind, roaring and revolving at random at the end of the winter season." "'"Marutta said, 'Behold! I find the fire-god come in his own embodiment, this day, therefore do thou, O Muni, offer him a seat and water, and a cow, and water for washing the feet.' "'"Agni said, 'I accept thy offerings of water, seat, and water for washing the feet, O sinless one, do thou know me as the messenger of Indra, come to thee, in accordance with his directions.' "'"Marutta said, 'O Fire-god, is the glorious Lord of the Celestials happy, and is he pleased with us, and are the other gods loyal to him? Do thou enlighten me duly on all these points.' "'"Agni said, 'O lord of the earth, Sakra is perfectly happy, he is pleased with thee, and wishes to make thee free from senility, and all the other gods are loyal to him. Do thou, O king, listen to the message of the Lord of the Celestials. And the object for which he has sent me to thee is to present Vrihaspati to Marutta. O prince, let this priest (of the Celestials) perform thy sacrifice, and make thee, who art only a mortal, attain immortality.' "'"Marutta said, 'This twice-born Brahmana Samvarta will perform my sacrifice, and I pray to Vrihaspati, that he having acted as priest to Mahendra (Indra), it does not look well for him now to act as priest to mortal men.' "'"Agni said, 'If this Vrihaspati officiate as thy priest, then shalt thou by the blessings of Devaraja (Indra) attain the highest region in the celestial mansion and attaining fame shalt thou certainly conquer the heavenly region. And, O lord of men, if Vrihaspati act as thy priest, thou shalt be able to conquer all the regions inhabited by men, and the heavenly regions, and all the highest regions created by Prajapati and even the entire kingdom of the gods.' "'"Samvarta said, 'Thou must never come again thus to present Vrihaspati to Marutta: for know, O Pavaka, (Agni) if thou dost, I losing my temper, will burn thee with my fierce evil eyes.'" "'Vyasa said, "Then Agni apprehending destruction by fire, and trembling like the leaves of the Aswattha tree (Ficus religiosa), returned to the gods, and the high-souled Sakra seeing that carrier of oblations (Agni) in the company of Vrihaspati said as follows: "'"Indra said, 'O Jataveda (Agni), didst thou go to present Vrihaspati to Marutta according to my direction? What did that sacrificing king say unto thee and did he accept my message?' "'"Agni said, 'Thy message was not acceptable by Marutta and when urged by me, he clasping the hands of Vrihaspati, repeatedly said, that Samvarta would act as his priest. And he also observed that he did not desire to attain the worldly and the heavenly regions and all the highest regions of Prajapati, and that if he were so minded, he would accept the terms of Indra.' "'"Indra said, 'Do thou go back to that king and meeting him, tell him these words of mine, full of significance, and if he obey them not, I shall strike him with my thunderbolt.' "'"Agni said, 'Let this king of the Gandharvas repair thither as thy messenger, O Vasava, for, I am afraid to go thither myself. Know, O Sakra, that highly incensed Samvarta, used to ascetic practices, told me these words in a rage. 'I shall burn thee with my fierce evil eyes if thou on any account come again here to present Vrihaspati to king Marutta.' "'"Sakra said, 'O Jataveda, it is thou who dost burn all other things and there is none else who can reduce thee to ashes. All the world is afraid to come in contact with thee. O carrier of oblations, these words of thine are worthy of no credence.' "'"Agni said, 'Thou, O Sakra, hast encompassed the dominion of the heaven and the earth and the firmament by the might of thy own arms, but even thus how could Vritra (of old) wrest from thee the sovereignty of the celestial regions?' "'"Indra said, 'I can reduce my foes to submission and can even reduce the size of a mountain to an atom, if I will it. But, O Vahnni, as I do not accept the libation of Soma if offered by a foe, and as I do not strike the weak with my thunderbolt, Vritra seemed to triumph over me for a time. But who among mortals can live in peace by creating feud with me. I have banished the Kalakeyas to the earth, and removed the Danavas from heaven, and have terminated the existence of Prahlada in heaven. Can there be any man who can live in peace by provoking my enmity?' "'"Agni said, 'Dost thou, O Mahendra, remember that in olden times when the sage Chyavana officiated at the sacrifice of Saryati with the twin gods Aswins and himself appropriated the Soma offering alone, thou wert filled with wrath, and when bent upon preventing Saryati's sacrifice, thou didst violently strike Chyavana with thy thunderbolt? But that Brahmana, O Purandara, giving way to passion, was able by the power of his devotions to seize and hold fast by hand with thy thunder-bolt in it. And in a rage, he again created a terrible looking enemy of thine, the Asura named Mada assuming all shapes, on beholding whom thou didst shut thine eyes with fear, whose one huge jaw was placed on earth, and the other extended to the celestial regions, and who looked terrible with his thousand sharp teeth extending over a hundred Yojanas, and had four prominent ones thick-set, and shining like a pillar of silver, and extending over two hundred Yojanas. And when grinding his teeth he pursued thee with his terrible and uplifted pike with the object of killing thee. Thou on beholding that terrible monster, presented a (pitiful) spectacle to all the by-standers. Then, O slayer of Danavas, overcome with fear of the monster, with thy hands clasped in supplication, thou didst seek the protection of the great sage. The might of Brahmanas, O Sakra, is greater than that of the Kshatriyas. None are more powerful than Brahmanas and knowing duly, as I do, the power of Brahmanas, I do not, O Sakra, desire to come in conflict with Samvarta.'"'" SECTION X "'"Indra said, 'Even so it is; the might of Brahmanas is great and there are none more powerful than Brahmanas, but I can never bear with equanimity the insolent pride of Avikshita's son, and so shall I smite him with my thunderbolt. Therefore, O Dhritarashtra, do thou according to my direction repair to king Marutta attended by Samvarta, and deliver this message to him--"Do thou, O prince, accept Vrihaspati as thy spiritual preceptor, as otherwise, I shall strike thee with my terrific thunderbolt."'" "'Vyasa said, "Then Dhritarashtra betook himself to that monarch's court and delivered this message to him from Vasava. "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'O lord of men, know that I am Dhritarashtra the Gandharva, come here with the object [of] delivering to thee the message of Indra. Do thou, O lion among kings, listen to the words which the high-souled lord of all the worlds meant for thee,--That one of incomprehensible achievements (Indra) only said this much, "Do thou accept Vrihaspati as thy officiating priest for the sacrifice, or if thou do not comply with my request, I shall strike thee with my terrific thunderbolt."' "'"Marutta said, 'Thou, O Purandara, the Viswadevas, the Vasus and the Aswins ye all know, that in this world there is no escape from the consequences of playing false to a friend; it is a great sin like unto that of murdering a Brahman. Let Vrihaspati (therefore) officiate as priest to that Mahendra the supreme Deva (god), the highest one wielding the thunderbolt, and O prince, Samvarta will act as my priest, as neither his (Indra's) words, nor thine commend themselves to me.' "'"The Gandharva said, 'Do thou, O lion among princes, listen to the terrible war-cry of Vasava roaring, in the heavens. Assuredly, and openly will Mahendra hurl his thunderbolt at thee. Do thou therefore be-think thyself of thy good, for this is the time to do it.'" "'Vyasa said, "Thus accosted by Dhritarashtra, and hearing the roar of howling Vasava, the king communicated this intelligence to Samvarta steadfast in devotion and the highest of all virtuous men. "'"Marutta said, 'Verily this rain-cloud floating in the air indicates that Indra must be near at present, therefore, O prince of Brahmanas, I seek shelter from thee. Do thou, O best of Brahmanas, remove this fear of Indra from my mind. The Wielder of the thunderbolt is coming encompassing the ten directions of space with his terrible and superhuman refulgence and my assistants at this sacrificial assembly have been overcome with fright.' "'"Samvarta said, 'O lion among kings, thy fear of Sakra will soon be dispelled, and I shall soon remove this terrible pain by means of my magic lore (incantation); be calm and have no fear of being overpowered by Indra. Thou hast nothing to fear from the god of a hundred sacrifices. I shall use my staying charms, O king, and the weapons of all the gods will avail them not. Let the lightening flash in all the directions of space, and the winds entering into the clouds pour down the showers amid the forests and the waters deluge the heavens and the flashes of lightning that are seen will avail not. Thou hast nothing to fear, let Vasava pour down the rains and blast his terrific thunderbolt where he will, floating among the watery masses (clouds) for thy destruction, for the god Vahnni (Agni) will protect thee in every way, and make thee attain all the objects of thy desire.' "'"Marutta said, 'This appalling crash of the thunderbolt together with the howling of the winds, seem terrible to my ears and my heart is afflicted again and again, O Brahmana, and my peace of mind is gone at present.' "'"Samvarta said, 'O king, the fear in thy mind from this terrible thunderbolt will leave thee presently. I shall dispel the thunder by the aid of the winds, and setting aside all fear from thy mind, do thou accept a boon from me according to thy heart's desire, and I shall accomplish it for thee.' "'"Marutta said, 'I desire, O Brahmana, that Indra all on a sudden should come in person at this sacrifice, and accept the oblation offered to him, and that all the other gods also come and take their own shares of the offerings and accept the libations of Soma offered to them.' "'"Samvarta said, 'I have by the power of my incantations attracted Indra in person to this sacrifice. Behold, O monarch, Indra coming with his horses, and worshipped by the other gods hastening to this sacrifice.' "'"Then the lord of the Devas attended by the other gods and riding in his chariot drawn by the most excellent steeds, approached the sacrificial altar of that son of Avikshit and drank the Soma libations of that unrivalled monarch. And king Marutta with his priest rose to receive Indra coming with the host of gods and well-pleased in mind, he welcomed the lord of the Devas with due and foremost honours according to the Sastras. "'"Samvarta said, 'Welcome to thee, O Indra, by thy presence here, O learned one, this sacrifice has been made grand. O slayer of Vala and Vritra, do thou again quaff this Soma juice produced by me today.' "'"Marutta said, 'Do thou look with kindness upon me, I bow unto thee, O Indra, by thy presence, my sacrifice has been perfected, and my life too blessed with good results. O Surendra, this excellent Brahmana, the younger brother of Vrihaspati is engaged in performing my sacrifices.' "'"Indra said, 'I know thy priest, this highly energetic ascetic, the younger brother of Vrihaspati, at whose invitation I have come to this sacrifice. I am, O monarch, well-pleased with thee and my resentment against thee hath been destroyed.' "'"Samvarta said, 'If, O prince of the Devas, thou art pleased with us, do thou thyself give all the directions for this sacrifice, and O Surendra, thyself ordain the sacrificial portions (for the gods), so that, O god, all the world may know that it hath been done by thee.'" "'Vyasa said, "Thus accosted by the son of Angira, Sakra himself gave directions to all the gods to erect the hall of assembly, and a thousand well-furnished excellent rooms looking grand as in a picture, and speedily to complete the staircase massive and durable, for the ascent of the Gandharvas and Apsaras and to furnish that portion of the sacrificial ground reserved for the dance of the Apsaras, like unto the palace of Indra in the heaven. O king, thus directed, the renowned dwellers of heaven speedily fulfilled the directions of Sakra. And then, O king, Indra well-pleased and adored, thus said to king Marutta,--'O prince, by associating with thee at this sacrifice, thine ancestors who have gone before thee, as well as the other gods have been highly gratified and have accepted the oblations offered by thee. And now, O king, let the foremost of regenerate beings offer on the sacrificial altar a red bull appertaining to the Fire-god and a sacred and duly consecrated blue bull with a variegated skin, appertaining to the Viswedevas.' Then, O king, the sacrificial ceremony grew in splendour, wherein the gods themselves collected the food, and Sakra, the lord of the gods, possessed of horses, and worshipped by the Brahmanas, became an assistant at the sacrifice. And then the high-souled Samvarta ascending the altar, and looking radiant as the second embodiment of the blazing fire, loudly addressing the gods with complaisance, offered oblations of clarified butter to the fire with incantation of the sacred hymns. And then the slayer of Vala first drank the Soma juice, and then the assembly of other gods drank Soma. And then in happiness and with the king's permission they returned home and well-pleased and delighted. Then that monarch, the slayer of his enemies, with a delighted heart, placed heaps of gold on diverse spots, and distributing the immense wealth to the Brahmanas, he looked glorious like Kuvera, the god of wealth. And with a buoyant heart, the king filled his treasury with different kinds of wealth, and with the permission of his spiritual preceptor, he returned (to his kingdom) and continued to rule the entire realm extending to the borders of the sea. So virtuous in this world was that king, at whose sacrifice such an enormous quantity of gold was collected, and now, O prince, thou must collect that gold and worshipping the gods with due rites, do thou perform this sacrifice." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then the Pandava prince Yudhishthira was delighted on hearing this speech of the son of Satyavati (Vyasa), and desirous of performing his sacrifice with those riches, he held repeated consultations with his ministers.'" SECTION XI "Vaisampayana said, 'When Vyasa of wonderful achievements had concluded his speech to the king, the highly-puissant son of Vasudeva (Krishna) also addressed him. Knowing the king, the son of Pritha, afflicted in mind, and bereft of his relatives and kinsmen slain in battle, and appearing crest-fallen like the sun darkened eclipse, or fire smothered by smoke, that prop of the Vrishni race (Krishna), comforting the son of Dharma, essayed to address him thus. "'Vasudeva said, "All crookedness of heart leads to destruction (perdition?) and all rectitude leads to Brahman (spiritual excellence). If this and this only is the aim and object of all true wisdom, then what can mental distraction do (to one who understands this)? Thy Karma has not yet been annihilated, nor have thy enemies been subjugated, for thou dost not yet know the enemies that are still lurking within thine own flesh. I shall (therefore) relate to thee truly as I have heard it, the story of the war of Indra with Vritra as it took place. In ancient times the Prithivi (earth), O king, was encompassed by Vritra, and by this abstraction of earthly matter, the seat of all odour, there arose bad odours on all sides, and the Performer of a hundred sacrifices (Indra), being much enraged by this act, hurled his thunderbolt at Vritra. And being deeply wounded by the thunderbolt of mighty Indra, Vritra entered into the (waters), and by doing so he destroyed their property. The waters being seized by Vritra, their liquid property left them. At this Indra became highly enraged and again smote him with his thunderbolt. And he (Vritra) smitten by the thunderbolt by the most powerful Indra betook himself to the Jyoti (luminous matter) and abstracted its inherent property. The luminous matter being overwhelmed by Vritra and its property, colour and form being thereby lost, the wrathful Indra again hurled his thunderbolt at him. And thus wounded again by Indra of immeasurable power, Vritra entered all on a sudden into the Vayu (gaseous matter). and thereafter made away with its inherent property. And this matter being overpowered by Vritra and its property, viz., touch being lost, Indra became again filled with wrath and flung his thunderbolt at him. And wounded therein by the mighty (Indra), he overwhelmed the Akasa (ether), and took away its inherent property, and the Akasa being overwhelmed by Vritra, and its property, sound being destroyed, the god of a hundred sacrifices highly incensed, again smote him with his thunderbolt. And thus smitten by the mighty Indra, he suddenly entered into his (Sakra's) body, and took away its essential attributes. And overtaken by Vritra, he was filled with great illusion. And, O venerable sir, the mightiest of Bharata's race, we have heard that Vasishtha comforted Indra (when he was thus afflicted) and that the god of a hundred sacrifices slew Vritra in his body by means of his invisible thunderbolt, and know, O prince, that this religious mystery was recited by Sakra to the great sages, and they in turn told it to me."'" SECTION XII "'Vasudeva said, "There are two kinds of ailments, physical and mental. They are produced by the mutual action of the body and mind on each other, and they never arise without the interaction of the two. The ailment that is produced in the body, is called the physical ailment, and that which has its seat in the mind, is known as the mental ailment. The cold, the warm (phlegm and bile) as well as the windy humours, O king, are the essential transformations generated in the physical body, and when these humours are evenly distributed, and are present in due proportions, they are said to be symptomatic of good health. The warm humour is acted upon (allayed) by the cold, and the cold by the warm. And Sattwa, Rajas and Tamas are the attributes of the soul, and it is said by the learned that their presence in due proportions indicates health (of the mind). But if any of the three preponderates, some remedy is enjoined (to restore the equilibrium). Happiness is overcome by sorrow, and sorrow by pleasure. Some people while afflicted by sorrow, desire to recall (past) happiness, while others, while in the enjoyment of happiness, desire to recall past sorrow. But thou, O son of Kunti, dost neither desire to recall thy sorrows nor thy happiness; what else dost thou desire to recall barring this delusion of sorrow? Or, perchance, O son of Pritha, it is thy innate nature, by which thou art at present overpowered. Thou dost not desire to recall to thy mind the painful sight of Krishna standing in the hall of assembly with only one piece of cloth to cover her body, and while she was in her menses and in the presence of all the Pandavas. And it is not meet that thou shouldst brood over thy departure from the city, and thy exile with the hide of the antelope for thy robe, and thy wanderings in the great forest, nor shouldst thou recall to thy mind the affliction from Jatasura, the fight with Chitrasena, and thy troubles from the Saindhavas. Nor is it proper, O son of Pritha, and conqueror of thy foes, that thou shouldst recall the incident of Kichaka's kicking Draupadi, during the period of thy exile passed in absolute concealment, nor the incidents of the fight which took place between thyself and Drona and Bhishma. The time has now arrived, when thou must fight the battle which each must fight single-handed with his mind. Therefore, O chief of Bharata's race, thou must now prepare to carry the struggle against thy mind, and by dint of abstraction and the merit of thine own Karma, thou must reach the other side of (overcome) the mysterious and unintelligible (mind). In this war there will be no need for any missiles, nor for friends, nor attendants. The battle which is to be fought alone and single-handed has now arrived for thee. And if vanquished in this struggle, thou shalt find thyself in the most wretched plight, and O son of Kunti, knowing this, and acting accordingly, shalt thou attain success. And knowing this wisdom and the destiny of all creatures, and following the conduct of thy ancestors, do thou duly administer thy kingdom."'" SECTION XIII "'Vasudeva said, "O scion of Bharata's race, salvation is not attained by foregoing the external things (like kingdom, etc), it is only attained by giving up things which pander to the flesh (body). The virtue and happiness which are attainable by the person who has renounced only the external objects, but who is at the same time engrossed by passions and weakness of the flesh, let these be the portion of our enemies. The word with two letters is Mrit-yu (death of the soul or perdition), and the word with three letters is Sas-wa-ta (Brahman) or the eternal spirit. The consciousness that this or that thing is mine, or the state of being addicted to worldly objects is Mrityu and the absence of that feeling is Saswatam. And these two, Brahman and Mrityu, O king, have their seats in the souls of all creatures, and remaining unseen, they, without doubt, wage war with each other. And if, O Bharata, it be true that no creature is ever destroyed, then one doth not make oneself guilty of the death of a creature by piercing (destroying) its body. What matters the world to a man, if having acquired the sovereignty of the whole earth with its mobile and immobile creation, he does not become attached to it, or engrossed in its enjoyment. But the man who having renounced the world, has taken to the life of the recluse in the forest, living on wild roots and edibles, if such a man, O son of Pritha, has a craving for the good things of the world, and is addicted to them, he may be said to bear Mrityu (death) in his mouth. Do thou, O Bharata, watch and observe the character of thy external and internal enemies, (by means of thy spiritual vision). And the man who is able to perceive the nature of the eternal reality is able to overreach the influence of the great fear (perdition). Men do not look with approbation upon the conduct of those who are engrossed in worldly desires and there is no act without having a desire (at its root) and all (Kama) desires are, as it were, the limbs (offshoots) of the mind. Therefore, wise men knowing this subjugate their desires. The Yogi who holds communion with the Supreme Spirit, knows Yoga to be the perfect way (to salvation) by reason of the practices of his many former births. And remembering that, what the soul desires, is not conducive to piety and virtue, but that the suppression of the desires is at the root of all true virtue, such men do not engage in the practice of charity, Vedic learning, asceticism and Vedic rites whose object is attainment of worldly prosperity, ceremonies, sacrifices, religious rules and meditation, with the motive of securing any advantage thereby. By way of illustration of this truth, the sages versed in ancient lore, recite these Gathas called by the name of Kamagita, do thou O Yudhishthira, listen to the recital of them in detail. (Kama says) No creature is able to destroy me without resorting to the proper methods (viz., subjugating of all desires and practice of Yoga etc.) If a man knowing my power, strive to destroy me by muttering prayers etc., I prevail over him by deluding him with the belief that I am the subjective ego within him. If he wish to destroy me by means of sacrifices with many presents, I deceive him by appearing in his mind as a most virtuous creature amongst the mobile creation, and if he wish to annihilate me by mastering the Vedas and Vedantas, I over reach him by seeming to his mind to be the soul of virtue amongst the immobile creation. And if the man whose strength lies in truth, desire to overcome me by patience, I appear to him as his mind, and thus he does not perceive my existence, and if the man of austere religious practices, desire to destroy me by means of asceticism, I appear in the guise of asceticism in his mind, and thus he is prevented from knowing me, and the man of learning, who with the object of attaining salvation desires to destroy me, I frolic and laugh in the face of such a man intent on salvation. I am the everlasting one without a compeer, whom no creature can kill or destroy. For this reason thou too, O prince, divert thy desires (Kama) to Virtue, so that, by this means, thou mayst attain what is well for thee. Do thou therefore make preparations for the due performance of the horse sacrifice with presents, and various other sacrifices of great splendour, and accompanied with presents. Let not therefore grief overpower thee again, on beholding thy friends lying slain on the battlefield. Thou canst not see the men slain in this battle alive again. Therefore shouldst thou perform magnificent sacrifices with presents, so that thou mayst attain fame in this world, and reach the perfect way (hereafter)."'" SECTION XIV "Vaisampayana said, 'With such speeches as these, was the royal saint Yudhishthira, bereft of his friends, consoled by those sages of great ascetic merits. And O monarch, that lord of men exhorted by the worshipful Viswarasraba himself, and by Dwaipayana (Vyasa), Krishna Devasthana, Narada, Bhima, Nakula, Krishna (Draupadi), Sahadeva, and the sharpwitted Vijaya, as well as by other great men, and Brahmanas versed in the Sastras, became relieved of all mental affliction and sorrow arising from the death of his dear relations. And that monarch Yudhishthira after performing the obsequial ceremonies of his departed friends, and honouring the Brahmanas and Devas (gods), brought the kingdom of the earth with its girdle of oceans, under his sway. And that prince of Kuru's race having regained his kingdom, with a tranquil mind, thus addressed Vyasa, Narada and the other sages who were present. "I have been comforted by the words of so great, ancient and aged saints as yourselves, and I have now no cause left for the least affliction. And likewise, I have attained great wealth, with which I may worship the gods. Therefore, with your assistance, I shall now perform the sacrifice, O the best of regenerate beings. We have heard that those (Himalayan) regions are full of wonders. Therefore, O Brahmana, saint and grandsire do thou so ordain that under thy protection we may safety reach the Himalaya mountains, the performance of my sacrifice being entirely within thy control, and then the adorable celestial saint Narada and Devasthana have also addressed exquisite and well-meaning words for our well being. No unlucky man in times of great tribulation and distress, has ever the good fortune to secure the services of such preceptors and friends approved by all virtuous men." Thus addressed by the king, those great saints, bidding the king and Krishna and Arjuna to repair to the Himalayan regions, then and there vanished in the presence of the assembled multitude, and the king, the lordly son of Dharma, then seated himself there for a while. And the Pandavas then in consequence of the death of Bhishma, were engaged in performing his funeral ceremonies. And their time, while thus engaged, seemed too long in passing and performing the last rites to the mortal remains of Bhishma, Karna and other foremost Kauravas, they gave away large presents to Brahmanas. And then the foremost descendant of Kuru again performed with Dhritarashtra the funeral rites (of the heroes slain in battle), and having given away immense wealth to the Brahmanas, the Pandava chief with Dhritarashtra in advance, made this entry into the city of Hastina Nagar, and consoling his lordly uncle, possessed of eyes of wisdom, that virtuous prince continued to administer the earth with his brothers.'" SECTION XV "Janamejaya said, 'O the best of regenerate beings, when the Pandavas had reconquered and pacified their kingdom, what did the two warriors, Vasudeva and Dhananjaya do?' "Vaisampayana said, 'O lord of the earth, Vasudeva and Dhananjaya were highly pleased when the Pandavas had succeeded in regaining and pacifying their dominions, and they deported themselves with great satisfaction, like unto Indra and his consort in the celestial regions, and amidst picturesque woodland sceneries, and tablelands of mountains, and sacred places of pilgrimage, and lakes and rivers, they travelled with great pleasure like the two Aswins in the Nandana garden of Indra. And, O Bharata, the high-souled Krishna and the son of Pandu (Dhananjaya) entering the beautiful hall of assembly at Indraprastha, whiled away their time in great merriment. And there, O prince, they passed their time in recounting the stirring incidents of the war, and the sufferings of their past lives. And those two high-souled ancient sages, glad at heart, recited the genealogy of the races of saints and gods. Then Kesava, knowing the full import of all matters, addressed Partha in a sweet and beautiful speech of excellent style and import. And then Janarddana comforted the son of Pritha afflicted by the death of his sons, and thousands of other relatives. And he of great ascetic merit and knowing the science of all things having duly consoled him, Arjuna rested for a while, as if a great burden had been removed from his own person. Then Govinda (Krishna) consoling Arjuna with sweet speech addressed these well-reasoned words to him. "'Vasudeva said, "O Arjuna, the terror of thine enemies, this whole earth has been conquered by the king, the son of Dharma, relying on the power of thy arms. And O the best of men, the virtuous king Yudhishthira now enjoys the sovereignty of the earth without a rival, by the might of Bhimasena and the twin brothers. O thou who knowest what virtue is, it was by righteousness alone that the king has been able to regain his kingdom free from all enemies (thorns), and it was by the action of righteousness that king Suyodhana has been killed in battle, and, O son of Pritha and pillar of the Kuru race, the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra, avaricious, always rude in speech, and bent upon an unrighteous course of conduct, having been exterminated with their followers, the king, the son of Dharma and lord of the earth, now peaceably enjoys the entire kingdom of the earth with thy aid, and I too, O son of Pandu, have been pleasantly whiling away my time in thy company, amidst woodland scenes. O terror of thine enemies, what more need I tell thee, but that where thou and Pritha, and the king, the son of Dharma, and the mighty Bhimasena and the two sons of Madri are, there am I attracted with exquisite delight. O descendant of Kuru, in these delightful and sacred and heaven-like halls of assembly a long time hath fleeted away in thy company without my seeing Vasudeva, Valadeva and other leaders of the Vrishni race. And now I am desirous of repairing to the city of Dwaravati. Do thou therefore, O most valorous of men, assent to my departure. When king Yudhishthira was smitten heavily with affliction, I with Bhishma, have recited to him many appropriate legends suited to the occasion with a view of assuaging his grief, and the pliant and high-minded Yudhishthira, though our sovereign and versed in all lore paid due heed to our words. That son of Dharma honours truth, and is grateful and righteous, therefore will his virtue and good sense and the stability of his power always endure. And now, O Arjuna, if it pleases thee, do thou go to that high-minded prince and tell him of my intention to depart from this place. For, O thou of mighty arms, even if death cometh to me, I am unwilling to do anything that may displease him, leaving alone my going to the city of Dwaravati. O son of Pritha and descendant of Kuru, I now tell thee truly, desiring to do only what is good and agreeable to thee, and there can be nothing equivocal in it in any way, that the necessity for my staying here no longer exists, because, O Arjuna, that monarch the son of Dhritarashtra hath been slain with his armies and attendants, and the earth, my friend, with its girdle of seas and its mountains and woods and forests, and the kingdom of the Kuru king filled with various gems, have passed under the sway of that wise son of Dharma. And O foremost prince of Bharata's race, may that virtuous prince administer the entire kingdom of the earth in righteousness, and with the respect and approbation of numerous high-souled Siddhas, and having his praises always extolled by the court heralds. Do thou, O chieftain of Kuru's race, accompany me to-day to the presence of the king, the great aggrandiser of the Kuru race, and sound him of my intended return to Dwaraka. As Yudhishthira the high-souled king of the Kurus always commands my love and respect, I have, O son of Pritha, placed this my body and all the wealth that I have in my house, at his disposal. And O prince Partha (son of Pritha), when this earth has come under thy sway and that of the worshipful Yudhishthira of excellent character, there no longer remains any necessity for my staying here except for my affection for thee." And O monarch, when the redoubtable Arjuna had been thus accosted by the noble-hearted Janarddana, he, showing all the honours due to him, sorrowfully replied by merely saying "be it so."'" SECTION XVI (Anugita Parva) "Janamejaya said, 'When the high-souled Kesava and Arjuna after slaying their enemies repaired to the assembly rooms, what conversation, O regenerate one, took place between them?' "Vaisampayana said, 'The son of Pritha (Arjuna), having recovered his own kingdom, joyously spent his time, without doing anything else, in the company of Krishna, his heart filled with delight, in that palace of celestial beauty. One day, those two listlessly proceeded to a particular part of the palace that looked, O king, like a veritable portion of Heaven. Themselves filled with delight, they were then surrounded by their relatives and attendants. Pandu's son, Arjuna, filled with joy in the company of Krishna, surveyed that delightful mansion, and then addressed his companion, saying, "O mighty-armed one, thy greatness became known to me upon the approach of the battle. O son of Devaki, thy form also, as the Lord of the universe, then became known to me! What thy holy self said unto me at that time, O Kesava, through affection, has all been forgotten by me, O chief of men, in consequence of the fickleness of my mind. Repeatedly, however, have I been curious on the subject of those truths. Thou again, O Madhava, wilt repair to Dwaraka soon."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by him, Krishna of mighty energy, that foremost of speakers, embraced Phalguna and replied unto him as follows. "'Vasudeva said, "I made thee listen to truths that are regarded as mysteries. I imparted to thee truths that are eternal. Verily, I discoursed to thee on Religion in its true form and on all the eternal regions. It is exceedingly disagreeable to me to learn that thou didst not, from folly, receive what I imparted. The recollection of all that I told thee on that occasion will not come to me now. Without doubt, O son of Pandu, thou art destitute of faith and thy understanding is not good. It is impossible for me, O Dhananjaya, to repeat, in detail, all that I said on that occasion. That religion (about which I discoursed to thee then) is more than sufficient for understanding Brahma. I cannot discourse on it again in detail. I discoursed to thee on Supreme Brahma, having concentrated myself in Yoga. I shalt now, however, recite to thee an old history upon the same topic. O foremost of all persons, observant of duty, listen to everything I now say, so that, with an understanding adapted to my teaching, thou mayst succeed in attaining to the highest end. O chastiser of foes, on one occasion, a Brahmana came to us from the regions of Heaven. Of irresistible energy, he came from the regions of the Grandsire. He was duly reverenced by us. Listen, O son of Pritha, without yielding to scruples of any kind, to what he, O chief of Bharata's race, said, in answer to our enquiries, agreeably to heavenly forms. "'"The Brahmana said, 'That which thou askest me, O Krishna, connected with the religion of Moksha (Emancipation), led by thy compassion for all creatures (and not for thy own good),--that, indeed, which destroys all delusion, O thou that art possessed of supreme puissance[6] I shall now tell thee duly, O slayer of Madhu. Do thou listen with concentrated attention as I discourse to thee, O Madhava. A Brahmana of the name of Kasyapa, possessed of penances and the foremost of all persons conversant with duties, came to a certain other Brahmana who had become conversant with all the mysteries of religion.[7] Indeed, the latter had mastered all the knowledge which the scriptures teach respecting the departure and reappearance of beings and possessed that direct knowledge of all things which Yoga gives. He was well skilled in the truths of all topics relating to the world. He had mastered the truth about pleasure and pain. He knew the truth about birth and death, and understood the distinctions between merit and demerit. He was a beholder of the ends attained to by embodied creatures high and low in consequence of their acts. He lived like one emancipated from the world. Crowned with ascetic success and possessed of perfect tranquillity of soul, he had all his senses under complete control. He seemed to blaze with the resplendence of Brahma and was capable of going everywhere at will. He knew the science of disappearing at will from before the eyes of all. He used to rove in the company of invisible Siddhas and celestial musicians. He used to sit and converse with them on some spot retired from the bustle of humanity. He was as unattached to all things as the wind. Kasyapa having heard of him truly, desired to see him. Possessed of intelligence, that foremost of all Brahmanas, approached the sage. Himself possessed of penances, Kasyapa, moved by the desire of acquiring merit, fell, with a rapt heart, at the feet of the sage when he had seen all those wonderful attributes. Filled with wonder at the sight of those extraordinary accomplishments, Kasyapa began to wait upon that foremost of all Brahmanas, with the dutiful reverence of a disciple waiting upon his preceptor and succeeded in propitiating him. By his devotion, O scorcher of foes, rendering to him the obedience due from a disciple to a preceptor, Kasyapa gratified that Brahmana who possessed all these accomplishments and was endued, besides, with scriptural learning and excellent conduct. Gratified with Kasyapa, that Brahmana one day addressed him cheerfully and spoke as follows, with an eye to the highest success. Listen to those words, O Janarddana, as I repeat them.' "'"The ascetic crowned with success said, 'By diverse acts, O son, as also by the aid of merit, mortal creatures attain to diverse ends here and residence in Heaven. Nowhere is the highest happiness; nowhere can residence be eternal. There are repeated falls from the highest regions acquired with such sorrow. In consequence of my indulgence in sin, I had to attain to diverse miserable and inauspicious ends, filled as I was with lust and wrath, and deluded by cupidity. I have repeatedly undergone death and rebirth. I have eaten diverse kinds of food, I have sucked at diverse breasts. I have seen diverse kinds of mothers, and diverse fathers dissimilar to one another. Diverse kinds of happiness have been mine and diverse kinds of misery, O sinless one. On diverse occasions have I been separated from what was agreeable and united with what was disagreeable. Having earned wealth with great toil I have had to put up with its loss. Insults and excessive misery I have received from king and relatives. Mental and physical pain, of great severity, have been mine. Humiliations I have undergone, and death and immurement under circumstances of great severity. Falls into Hell have been mine, and great tortures in the domains of Yama. Decrepitude and diseases have repeatedly assailed me, and calamities, as frequent, in copious measure. In this world I have repeatedly undergone all those afflictions that flow from a perception of all pairs of opposites. After all this, one day, overwhelmed with sorrow, blank despair came upon me. I took refuge in the Formless. Afflicted as I was with great distress, I gave up the world with all its joys and sorrows.[8] Understanding then this path, I exercised myself in it in this world. Afterwards, through tranquillity of soul, I attained to this success that thou seest. I shall not have to come to this world again (after my departure hence). Verily, till I attain to absorption into eternal Brahman, till, in fact, the final dissolution of the universe, I shall look on those happy ends that will be mine, and on those beings that constitute this universe.[9] Having acquired this excellent success, I shall, after departing from this world, proceed, to what is above it (i.e., Satyaloka) and thence to what is higher (i.e., absorption into Brahman). Verily, I shall attain to the condition, which is unmanifest aspect of Brahman. Let no doubt be thine as regards this. O scorcher of foes, I shall not return to this world of mortal creatures. O thou of great wisdom, I have become gratified with thee. Tell me what I shall do for thee. The time has come for the accomplishment of that purpose for which thou hast come hither. Verily, I know that object for which thou hast sought me. I shall soon depart from this world. Hence it is that I have given thee this hint. O thou of great wisdom and experience, I have been highly gratified with thee for thy behaviour. Do thou question me. I shall discourse on what is beneficial to thee, agreeably to thy desire. I think thy intelligence is great. Indeed, I applaud it much, for it was with the aid of that intelligence that thou wert able to recognise me. Surely, O Kasyapa, thou art possessed of great intelligence.'"'" SECTION XVII "'Vasudeva said, "touching the feet of that sage, the Brahmana asked him some questions that were exceedingly difficult to answer. That foremost of all righteous persons then discoursed on those duties that were referred to. "'"Kasyapa said, 'How does the body dissolve away, and how is another acquired? How does one become emancipated after passing through a repeated round of painful rebirths? Enjoying Prakriti for some time, how does Jiva cast off the particular body (which Prakriti gives)? How does Jiva, freed from the body, attain to what is different from it (viz., Brahman)? How does a human being enjoy (and endure the fruits of) the good and bad acts done by him? Where do the acts exist of one that is devoid of body?'[10] "'"The Brahmana said,--'Thus urged by Kasyapa, the emancipated sage answered those questions one after another. Do thou listen to me, O scion of the Vrishi race, as I recite to thee the answers he made.' "'"The Emancipated sage said, 'Upon the exhaustion of those acts capable of prolonging life and bringing on fame which are done in a particular body that Jiva assumes, the embodied Jiva, with the span of his life shortened, begins to do acts hostile to life and health. On the approach of destruction, his understanding turns away from the proper course. The man of uncleansed soul, after even a correct apprehension of his constitution and strength and of the season of both his own life and of the year, begins to eat at irregular intervals and to eat such food as is hostile to him.[11] At such a time he indulges in practices that are exceedingly harmful. He sometimes eats excessively and sometimes abstains altogether from food. He eats bad food or bad meat or takes bad drinks, or food that has been made up of ingredients incompatible with one another. He eats food that is heavy in excess of the measure that is beneficial, or before the food previously taken has been digested. He indulges in physical exercise and sexual pleasure in excess of the due measure, or through avidity for work, suppresses the urgings of his corporeal organism even when they become pronounced. Or, he takes food that is very juicy, or indulges in sleep during daytime. Food that is not properly digested, of itself excites the faults, when the time comes.[12] From such excitement of the faults in his body, he gets disease ending in death itself. Sometimes the person engages in perverse or unnatural acts like hanging (for bringing about his death). Through these causes the living body of the creature dissolves away. Understand correctly the manner as I declare it to thee.[13] Urged on by the Wind which becomes violent, the heat in the body, becoming excited and reaching every part of the body one after another, restrains all the (movements of the) vital breaths. Know truly that excited all over the body, the heat becomes very strong, and pierces every vital part where life may be said to reside. In consequence of this, Jiva, feeling great pain, quickly takes leave of its mortal casement. Know, O foremost of regenerate persons, that when the vital parts of the physical organism become thus afflicted, Jiva slips away from the body, overwhelmed with great pain. All living creatures are repeatedly afflicted with birth and death. It is seen, O chief of Brahmanas, that the pain which is felt by a person when casting off his bodies is like what is felt by him when first entering the womb or when issuing out of it. His joints become almost dislocated and he derives much distress from the waters (of the womb).[14] Urged on by (another) violent wind, the wind that is in the body becomes excited through cold, and dissolves away the union of matter (called the body) into its respective elements numbering five.[15] That wind which resides in the vital breaths called Prana and Apana occurring within this compound of the five primal elements, rushes upwards, from a situation of distress, leaving the embodied creature. It is even thus that the wind leaves the body. Then is seen breathlessness. The man then becomes destitute of heat, of breath, of beauty, and of consciousness. Deserted by Brahman (for Jiva is Brahman), the person is said to be dead. By those ducts through which he perceives all sensuous objects, the bearer of the body no longer perceives them. It is the eternal Jiva who creates in the body in those very ducts the life-breaths that are generated by food. The elements gathered together become in certain parts firmly united. Know that those parts are called the vitals of the body. It is said so in the Sastras. When those vital parts are pierced, Jiva, rising up, enters the heart of the living creature and restrains the principle of animation without any delay. The creature then, though still endued with the principle of consciousness, fails to know anything. The vital parts being all overwhelmed, the knowledge of the living creature becomes overwhelmed by darkness. Jiva then, who has been deprived of everything upon which to stay, is then agitated by the wind. He then, deeply breathing a long and painful breath, goes out quickly, causing the inanimate body to tremble. Dissociated from the body, Jiva, however, is surrounded by his acts. He becomes equipped on every side with all his auspicious acts of merit and with all his sins. Brahmanas endued with knowledge and equipped with the certain conclusions of the scriptures, know him, from indications, as to whether he is possessed of merit or with its reverse. Even as men possessed of eyes behold the fire-fly appearing and disappearing amid darkness, men possessed of the eye of knowledge and crowned with success of penances, behold, with spiritual vision, Jiva as he leaves the body, as he is reborn, and as he enters the womb. It is seen that Jiva has three regions assigned to him eternally. This world where creatures dwell is called the field of action. Accomplishing acts good or bad, all embodied creatures attain to the fruits thereof. In consequence of their own acts, creatures acquire even here superior or inferior enjoyments. Doers of evil deeds here, in consequence of those acts of theirs, attain to Hell. This condition of sinking with head downwards, in which creatures are cooked, is one of great misery. It is such that a rescue therefrom is exceedingly difficult. Indeed, one should strive hard for saving oneself from this misery. Those regions where creatures dwell when they ascend from this world I shall now declare truly. Do thou listen to me with attention. By listening to what I say, thou shalt attain to firmness of understanding and a clear apprehension of (good and bad) acts. Know that even those are the regions of all creatures of righteous deeds, viz., the stellar worlds that shine in the firmament, the lunar disc, and the solar disc as well that shines in the universe in its own light. Upon the exhaustion, again, of their merits, they fall away from those regions repeatedly. There, in Heaven itself, is distinction of inferior, superior, and middling felicity. There, in Heaven itself, is discontent at sight of prosperity more blazing than one's own. Even these are the goals which I have mentioned in detail. I shall, after this, discourse to you on the attainment by Jiva of the condition of residence in the womb. Do thou hear me, with concentrated attention, O regenerate one, as I speak to thee!'"'" SECTION XVIII "'"The Brahmana said, 'The acts, good and bad, that a Jiva does are not subject to destruction. Upon attainment of body after body, those acts produce fruits corresponding with them.[16] As a fruit-bearing tree, when the season comes of productivity, yields a large quantity of fruit, similarly merit, achieved with a pure heart, yields a large crop (of felicity). After the same fashion, sin, done with a sinful heart, produces a large crop of misery. The Soul (or Jiva), placing the mind ahead, addresses himself to action. Hear then how Jiva, equipt with all his acts and overwhelmed with lust and wrath, enters the womb. The vital seed, mixed with blood, enters the womb of females and becomes the field (of Jiva), good or bad, born of (his) acts. In consequence of his subtlety and the condition of being unmanifest, Jiva does not become attached to anything even after attaining to a body. Therefore, he is called Eternal Brahman.[17] That (viz., Jiva or Brahman) is the seed of all creatures. It is in consequence of Him that living creatures live. That Jiva, entering all the limbs of the foetus part by part, accepting the attribute of mind, and residing within all the regions that belong to Prana, supports (life). In consequence of this, the foetus becoming endued with mind begins to move its limbs.[18] As liquified iron, poured (into a mould), takes the form of the mould, know that the entrance of Jiva into the foetus is even such. As fire, entering a mass of iron, heats it greatly, do thou know that the manifestation of Jiva in the foetus is such. As a lamp, burning in a room, discovers (all things within it), after the same manner mind discovers the different limbs of the body.[19] Whatever acts, good or bad, Jiva does in a former body, have certainly to be enjoyed or endured by him. By such enjoyment and endurance former acts are exhausted, and other acts, again, accumulate, till Jiva succeed in acquiring a knowledge of the duties included in that contemplation which leads to Emancipation. Regarding this, I shall tell thee those acts by which Jiva, O best of men, while coursing through a repeated round of re-births, becomes happy, Gifts, observances of austerity, Brahmacharyya, bearing Brahman according to the ordinances laid down, self-restraint, tranquillity, compassion for all creatures, restraint of passions, abstentions from cruelty as also from appropriating what belongs to others, refraining from doing even mentally all acts that are false and injurious to living creatures on the Earth, reverently serving mother and father, honouring deities and guests, worship of preceptors, pity, purity, constant restraint of all organs, and causing of all good acts, are said to constitute the conduct of the good. From observance of such conduct, arises Righteousness which protects all creatures eternally. Such conduct one would always behold among persons that are good. Verily, such conduct resides there eternally. That course of practices to which persons of tranquil souls adhere indicates Righteousness. Among them is thrown that course of practices which constitutes eternal Righteousness. He who would betake himself to that Righteousness would never have to attain to a miserable end. It is by the conduct of the good that the world is restrained in the paths of Righteousness when it falls away. He that is a Yogin is Emancipated, and is, therefore, distinguished above these (viz., the good).[20] Deliverance from the world takes place, after a long time, of one who acts righteously and well on every occasion as he should. A living creature thus always meets with the acts done by him in a former life. All these acts constitute the cause in consequence of which he comes into this world in a state different from his true form.[21] There is a doubt in the world as regards the question. By what was the acceptance (by Jiva) of a body first determined. The Grandsire of all the worlds, viz., Brahma having first formed a body of his own, then created the three worlds, in their entirety, of mobile and immobile creatures. Having first himself assumed a body, he then created Pradhana. That Pradhana is the material cause of all embodied creatures, by whom is all this covered and whom all came to know as the highest. This that is seen is said to be destructible; while the other is immortal and indestructible. This that (is seen) is said to be Kshara (the destructible); that, however, which is Para (the other) is the Immortal, (as also) Akshara (the Indestructible). Of each Purusha taken distributively, the whole is duality among these three.[22] Seen first (to appear in an embodied form) Prajapati (then) created all the primal elements and all immobile creatures. Even this is the ancient audition. Of that (acceptance of body), the Grandsire ordained a limit in respect of time, and migrations among diverse creatures and return or rebirth. All that I say is proper and correct, like to what a person who is endued with intelligence and who has seen his soul, would say on this topic of previous births.[23] That person who looks upon pleasure and pain as inconstant, which, indeed, is the correct view, who regards the body as an unholy conglomeration, and destruction as ordained in action, and who remembers that what little of pleasure there is, is really all pain, will succeed in crossing this terrible ocean of worldly migration that is so difficult to cross. Though assailed by decrepitude and death and disease, he that understands Pradhana beholds with an equal eye that Consciousness which dwells in all beings endued with consciousness. Seeking the supreme seat, he then becomes utterly indifferent to all (other) things. O best of men, I shall now impart instruction to thee, agreeably to truth, concerning this. Do thou, O learned Brahmana, understand in completeness that which constitutes the excellent knowledge, as I declare it, of that indestructible seat.'"'" SECTION XIX "'"The Brahmana said, 'He who becomes absorbed in the one receptacle (of all things), freeing himself from even the thought of his own identity with all things,--indeed, ceasing to think of even his own existence,--gradually casting off one after another, will succeed in crossing his bonds.[24] That man who is the friend of all, who endures all, who is attached to tranquillity, who has conquered all his senses, who is divested of fear and wrath, and who is of restrained soul, succeeds in emancipating himself. He who behaves towards all creatures as towards himself, who is restrained, pure, free from vanity and divested of egoism is regarded as emancipated from everything. He also is emancipated who looks with an equal eye upon life and death, pleasure and pain, gain and loss, agreeable and disagreeable. He is in every way emancipated who does not covet what belongs to others, who never disregards any body, who transcends all pairs of opposites, and whose soul is free from attachment. He is emancipated who has no enemy, no kinsman, and no child, who has cast off religion, wealth, and pleasure, and who is freed from desire or cupidity. He becomes emancipated who acquires neither merit nor demerit, who casts off the merits and demerits accumulated in previous births, who wastes the elements of his body for attaining to a tranquillised soul, and who transcends all pairs of opposites. He who abstains from all acts, who is free from desire or cupidity, who looks upon the universe as unenduring or as like an Aswattha tree, ever endued with birth, death and decrepitude, whose understanding is fixed on renunciation, and whose eyes are always directed towards his own faults, soon succeeds in emancipating himself from the bonds that bind him.[25] He that sees his soul void of smell, of taste and touch, of sound, of belongings, of vision, and unknowable, becomes emancipated.[26] He who sees his soul devoid of the attributes of the five elements to be without form and cause, to be really destitute of attributes though enjoying them, becomes emancipated.[27] Abandoning, with the aid of the understanding, all purposes relating to body and mind, one gradually attains to cessation of separate existence, like a fire unfed with fuel.[28] One who is freed from all impressions, who transcends all pairs of opposites, who is destitute of all belongings, and who uses all his senses under the guidance of penances, becomes emancipated.[29] Having become freed from all impressions, one then attains to Brahma which is Eternal and supreme, and tranquil, and stable, and enduring, and indestructible. After this I shall declare the science of Yoga to which there is nothing superior, and how Yogins, by concentration, behold the perfect soul.[30] I shall declare the instructions regarding it duly. Do thou learn from me those doors by which directing the soul within the body one beholds that which is without beginning and end.[31] Withdrawing the senses from their objects, one should fix the mind upon the soul; having previously undergone the severest austerities, one should practise that concentration of mind which leads to Emancipation.[32] Observant of penances and always practising concentration of mind, the learned Brahmana, endued with intelligence, should observe the precepts of the science of Yoga, beholding the soul in the body. If the good man succeeds in concentrating the mind on the soul, he then, habituated to exclusive meditation, beholds the Supreme soul in his own soul. Self-restrained, and always concentrated, and with all his senses completely conquered, the man of cleansed soul, in consequence of such complete concentration of mind, succeeds in beholding the soul by the soul. As a person beholding some unseen individual in a dream recognises him, saying,--This is he,--when he sees him after waking, after the same manner the good man having seen the Supreme Soul in the deep contemplation of Samadhi recognises it upon waking from Samadhi.[33] As one beholds the fibrous pith after extracting it from a blade of the Saccharum Munja, even so the Yogin beholds the soul, extracting it from the body. The body has been called the Saccharum Munja, and the fibrous pith is said to stand for the soul. This is the excellent illustration propounded by persons conversant with Yoga. When the bearer of a body adequately beholds the soul in Yoga, he then has no one that is master over him, for he then becomes the lord of the three worlds.[34] He succeeds in assuming diverse bodies according as he wishes. Turning away decrepitude and death, he neither grieves nor exults. The self-restrained man, concentrated in Yoga, can create (for himself) the godship of the very gods. Casting off his transient body he attains to immutable Brahma.[35] No fear springs up in him at even the sight of all creatures falling victims to destruction (before his eyes). When all creatures are afflicted,--he can never be afflicted by any one. Devoid of desire and possessed of a tranquil mind, the person in Yoga is never shaken by pain and sorrow and fear, the terrible effects that flow from attachment and affection. Weapons never pierce him; death does not exist for him. Nowhere in the world can be seen any one that is happier than he. Having adequately concentrated his soul, he lives steadily on himself. Turning off decrepitude and pain and pleasure, he sleeps in comfort. Casting off this human body he attains to (other) forms according to his pleasure. While one is enjoying the sovereignty that Yoga bestows, one should never fall away from devotion to Yoga.[36] When one, after adequate devotion to Yoga, beholds the Soul in oneself, one then ceases to have any regard for even him of a hundred sacrifices (Indra).[37] Hear now how one, habituating oneself to exclusive meditation, succeeds in attaining to Yoga. Thinking of that point of the compass which has the Sun behind it, the mind should be fixed, not outside, but in the interior of that mansion in which one may happen to live. Residing within that mansion, the mind should then, with all its outward and inward (operations), behold in that particular room in which one may stay. At that time when, having deeply meditated, one beholds the All (viz., Brahman, the Soul of the universe), there is then nothing external to Brahman where the mind may dwell. Restraining all the senses in a forest that is free from noise and that is uninhabited, with mind fixed thereon, one should meditate on the All (or universal Brahman) both outside and inside one's body. One should meditate on the teeth, the palate, the tongue, the throat, the neck likewise; one should also meditate on the heart and the ligatures of the heart!'[38] "'"The Brahmana continued, 'Thus addressed by me, that intelligent disciple, O slayer of Madhu, once more asked me about this religion of Emancipation that is so difficult to explain. How does this food that is eaten from time to time become digested in the stomach? How does it become transformed into juice? How, again, into blood? How does it nourish the flesh, the marrow, the sinews, the bones? How do all these limbs of embodied creatures grow? How does the strength grow of the growing man? How occurs the escape of all such elements as are not nutritive, and of all impurities separately? How does this one inhale and again, exhale? Staying upon what particular part does the Soul dwell in the body? How does Jiva, exerting himself, bear the body? Of what colour and of what kind is the body in which he dwells again (leaving a particular body)? O holy one, it behoveth thee to tell me all this accurately, O sinless one,'--even thus was I interrogated by that learned Brahmana, O Madhava. I replied unto him, O thou of mighty arms, after the manner I myself had heard, O chastiser of all foes. 'As one placing some precious object in one's store-room should keep one's mind on it, so, placing the mind within one's own body, one should then, restraining all the senses, seek after the Soul, avoiding all heedlessness. One would, becoming always assiduous in this way and gratified with one's own self, within a very short time attain to that Brahma by beholding which one would become conversant with Pradhana.[39] He is not capable of being seized by the eye; nor even by all the senses.[40] It is only with the lamp of the mind that great Soul can be seen. He has hands and feet on all sides; he has ears on all sides; he dwells, pervading all things in the world.[41] Jiva beholds the Soul as extracted from the body (like the stalk from a blade of Saccharum Munja, when knowledge comes). Then casting off Brahma as invested with form, by holding the mind in the body, he beholds Brahma as freed from all attributes.[42] He sees the Soul with his mind, smiling as it were at the time. Depending upon that Brahma, he then attains to Emancipation in me.[43] O foremost of regenerate ones, all this mystery has now been declared by me. I ask thy permission, for I shall leave this spot. Do thou (also) go withersoever thou pleasest.' Thus addressed by me, O Krishna, on that occasion, that disciple of mine, endued with austere penances, that Brahmana of rigid vows, went away according to his pleasure." "'Vasudeva continued, "That best of Brahmanas, O son of Pritha, having said these words unto me, on that occasion, properly relating to the religion of Emancipation, disappeared then and there. Has this discourse been heard by thee, O son of Pritha, with mind directed solely towards it? Even this was what thou didst hear on that occasion while thou wert on thy car. It is my opinion, O son of Pritha, that this is difficult of being comprehended by one whose understanding is confused, or who has acquired no wisdom by study, or who eats food incompatible with his body, or whose Soul is not purified.[44] O chief of Bharata's race, this is a great mystery among the deities that has been declared (to thee). At no time or place, O son of Pritha, has this been heard by man in this world. O sinless one, no other man than thyself is deserving of hearing it. It is not, at this time, capable of being easily understood by one whose inner soul is confused. The world of the deities is filled, O son of Kunti, with those who follow the religion of actions. The cessation of the mortal form (by practising the religion of inaction) is not agreeable to the deities.[45] That goal, O son of Pritha, is the highest which is constituted by eternal Brahman where one, casting off the body, attains to immortality and becomes always happy. By adhering to this religion, even they who are of sinful birth, such as women and Vaisyas and Sudras, attain to the highest goal. What need be said then, O son of Pritha, of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas possessed of great learning, always devoted to the duties of their own orders and who are intent on (the acquisition of) the region of Brahma? This has been laid down with the reasons (on which it rests); and also the means for its acquisition; and its complete attainment and fruit, viz., Emancipation and the ascertainment of the truth regarding pain. O chief of Bharata's race, there is nothing else that is fraught with happiness greater than this. That mortal, O son of Pandu, who, endued with intelligence, and faith, and prowess, renounces as unsubstantial what is regarded as substantial by the world, succeeds within a short time in obtaining the Supreme by these means. This is all that is to be said,--there is nothing else that is higher than this. Yoga takes place in his case, O son of Pritha, who devotes himself to its constant practice for a period of six months."'" SECTION XX "'Vasudeva said, "In this connection is cited the ancient narrative, O son of Pritha, of the discourse that took place between a married couple. A certain Brahmana's spouse, beholding the Brahmana, her husband who was a complete master of every kind of knowledge and wisdom, seated in seclusion, said unto him,--'Into what region shall I go, depending on thee as my husband,--thee that art seated, having cast off all (religious) acts, that art harsh in thy conduct towards me, and that art so undiscerning?[46] It has been heard by us that a wife attains to those regions which are acquired by her husband. What, indeed, is the goal that I shall attain, having obtained thee for my husband?'--Thus questioned, that Brahmana of tranquil soul then said unto her, smilingly,--'O blessed dame, I am not offended with these words of thine, O sinless one. Whatever acts exist that are adopted with the aid of others, that are seen (in consequence of their grossness), and that are true, are done as acts by men devoted to acts.[47] Those persons that are destitute of knowledge, only store delusion by acts. Freedom from acts, again, is incapable of being attained in this world for even a moment. From birth to the attainment of a different form, action good or bad, and accomplished by acts, mind, or speech, exists in all beings. Those paths (of action) which are characterised by visible objects (such as Soma-juice and ghee for libations) being destroyed by Rakshasas, turning away from them I have perceived the seat (of the soul) that is in the body, without the aid of the soul.[48] There dwells Brahma transcending all pairs of opposites; there Soma with Agni, and there the urger of the understanding (viz., Vayu) always moves, upholding all creatures.[49] It is for that seat that the Grandsire Brahman and others, concentrated in Yoga, worship the Indestructible. It is for that seat that men of learning and excellent vows, of tranquil souls, and of senses completely vanquished, strive.[50] That is not capable of being smelt by the sense of smell; nor tasted by the tongue; or touched by the organs of touch. It is by the mind that that is attained. It is incapable of being conquered by the eye. It transcends the sense of hearing. It is destitute of scent, taste, touch, and form as attributes. It is that from which proceeds the well-ordained universe, and it is that upon which it rests. The life-breaths called Prana and Apana and Samana and Vyana and Udana flow from it, and it is that into which they again enter. The breaths Prana and Apana move between Samana and Vyana. When the soul sleeps, both Samana and Vyana are absorbed.[51] Between Apana and Prana, Udana dwells, pervading all. Hence, Prana and Apana do not desert a sleeping person. In consequence of its controlling all the life-winds, the controlling breath is called Udana. Hence, utterers of Brahman undergo penances which have myself for their goal.[52] In the midst of all those life-breaths that swallow up one another and move within the body, blazes forth the fire called Vaiswanara made up of seven flames. The nose, the tongue, the eye, the skin, the ear which numbers the fifth, the mind, and the understanding,--these are the seven tongues of that Vaiswanara's flame. That which is smelt, that which is seen, that which is drunk, that which is touched, as also that which is heard, that which is thought of, and that which is understood,--these are the seven sorts of fuel for me. That which smells, that which eats, that which sees, that which touches, that which hears numbering the fifth; that which thinks, and that which understands,--these are the seven great officiating priests. Behold, O blessed one, learned sacrificers duly casting seven libations in seven ways in the seven fires, viz., that which is smelt, that which is drunk, that which is seen, that which is touched, as also that which is heard, that which is thought of, and that which is understood, create them in their own wombs.[53] Earth, Wind, Ether, Water, and Light numbering as the fifth, Mind, and Understanding--these seven are called wombs (of all things). All the attributes which constitute the sacrificial offerings, enter into the attribute that is born of the fire, and having dwelt within that dwelling became reborn in their respective wombs. Thither also, viz., in that which generates all beings, they remain absorbed during the period for which dissolution lasts. From that is produced smell, from that is produced taste, from that is produced colour, and from that is produced touch; from that is produced sound; from that arises doubt; and from that is produced resolution. This is what is known as the sevenfold creation. It is in this very way that all this was comprehended by the ancients. By the three full and final libations, the full become full with light.'"'" SECTION XXI "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection is cited the following ancient story. Do thou understand, of what kind the institution is of the ten Hotris (sacrificing priests). The ear, the skin, the two eyes, the tongue, the nose, the two feet, the two hands, the genital organ, the lower duct, and speech,--these, O beautiful one, are the ten sacrificing priests. Sound and touch, colour and taste, scent, speech, action, motion, and the discharge of vital seed, of urine and of excreta, are the ten libations. The points of the compass, Quarters, Wind, Sun, Moon, Earth, Fire, Vishnu, Indra, Prajapati, and Mitra,--these, O beautiful one, are the ten (sacrificial) fires. The ten organs (of knowledge and action) are the sacrificing priests. The libations, O beautiful one, are ten. The objects of the senses are the fuel that are cast into these ten fires,[54] as also the mind, which is the ladle, and the wealth (viz., the good and bad acts of the sacrificer). What remains is the pure, highest knowledge. We have heard that all this universe was well differentiated (from Knowledge). All objects of knowledge are Mind. Knowledge only perceives (i.e., discovers the Mind without being attached to it). The knower (or Jiva), encased in subtle form, lives within the gross body that is produced by the vital seed. The bearer of the body is the Garhapatya fire. From that is produced another. Mind is the Ahavaniya fire. Into it is poured the oblation. From that was produced the Veda (or Word); (then was born Mind); Mind (desirous of creation) sets itself on the Veda (or the Word). Their arises form (or colour) undistinguished by particular colours. It runs towards the Mind.'[55] "'"The Brahmana's wife said, 'Why did Word first arise and why did Mind arise afterwards, seeing that Word starts into existence after having been thought upon by Mind? Upon that authority can it be said that Mati (Prana) takes refuge in Mind? Why, again, in dreamless slumber, though separated from Mind, does not Prana apprehend (all objects)? What is that which restrains it then?'[56] "'"The Brahmana said, 'The Apana breath, becoming the lord (i.e., bringing the Prana under its control), in consequence of such lordship over it, makes it identical with itself. That restrained motion of the Prana breath (which for the time becomes identical with that of the Apana) has been said to be the motion of the mind. Hence the mind is dependent upon Prana, not Prana upon the mind. Therefore, in dreamless slumber, upon the disappearance of mind, Prana does not disappear. But since thou askest me a question about word and mind, I shall, therefore, relate to thee a discourse between them. Both Word and Mind, repairing to the Soul of matter,[57] asked him,--"Do thou say who amongst us is superior. Do thou, O puissant one, dispel our doubt."--On that occasion, the holy one made this answer.--"The mind undoubtedly (is superior)." Unto him Word said,--"I yield to thee the fruition of all thy desires!"'[58] "'"The Brahmana said, 'Know that I have two minds, immovable and movable. That which is immovable is, verily, with me; the movable is in your dominion.[59] That mind is verily called movable which, in the form of Mantra, letter, or voice, is referable to your dominion. Hence, thou art superior (to the other mind which concerns itself with only the external world). But since, coming of thy own accord, O beautiful one, thou enterest into the engagement (about the fruition of all wishes), therefore, filling myself with breath, I utter thee.[60] The goddess Word used always to dwell between Prana and Apana. But, O blessed one, sinking into Apana, though urged upwards, in consequence of becoming dissociated from Prana, she ran to Prajapati and said,--Be gratified with me, O holy one.--The Prana appeared, once more fostering Word. Hence, Word, encountering deep exhalation, never utters anything. Word always flows as endued with utterance or unendued with it.[61] Amongst those two, Word without utterance is superior to Word with utterance. Like a cow endued with excellent milk, she (Word without utterance) yields diverse kinds of meaning. This one always yields the Eternal (viz., Emancipation), speaking of Brahman. O thou of beautiful smiles, Word is a cow, in consequence of her puissance which is both divine and not divine. Behold the distinction of these two subtle forms of Word that flow.'[62] "'"The Brahmana's wife said, 'What did the goddess of Word then say, in days of old, when, though impelled by the Wish to speak, Speech could not come out?' "'"The Brahmana said, 'The Word that is generated in the body by Prana, then attains to Apana from Prana. Then transformed into Udana and issuing out of the body, envelops all the quarters, with Vyana. After that, she dwells in Samana. Even in this way did Word formerly speak. Hence Mind, in consequence of being immovable, is distinguished, and the goddess Word, in consequence of being movable, is also distinguished.'"'" SECTION XXII "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection is cited the ancient story, O blessed one, of what the institution is of the seven sacrificing priests. The nose, the eye, the tongue, the skin, and the ear numbering the fifth, the mind, and the understanding,--these are the seven sacrificing priests standing distinctly from one another. Dwelling in subtle space, they do not perceive one another. Do thou, O beautiful one, know these sacrificing priests that are seven by their nature.' "'"The Brahmana's wife said, 'How is it that dwelling in subtle space, these do not perceive one another? What are their (respective) natures, O holy one? Do thou tell me this, O lord.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Not knowing the qualities (of any object) is ignorance (of that object); while knowledge of the qualities is (called) knowledge (of the object which possesses those qualities). These seven never succeed in apprehending or knowing the qualities of one another. The tongue, the eye, the ear too, the skin, the mind, and the understanding, do not succeed in apprehending smells. It is the nose alone that apprehends them. The nose, the tongue, the ear also, the skin, the mind, and the understanding, never succeed in apprehending colours. It is the eye alone that apprehends them. The nose, the tongue, the eye too, the ear, the understanding, and the mind, never succeed in apprehending sensations of touch. It is the skin alone that apprehends them. The nose, the tongue, the eye, the skin, the mind, and the understanding, never succeed in apprehending sounds. It is the ear alone that apprehends them. The nose, the tongue, the eye, the skin, the ear, and the understanding never succeed in apprehending doubt. It is the mind that apprehends it. The nose, the tongue, the eye, the skin, the ear, and the mind, never succeed in apprehending determination (certainty in respect of knowledge). It is the understanding alone that apprehends it. In this connection, is cited, O beautiful lady, this ancient narrative of a discourse between the senses and the mind.' "'"'The mind said, "The nose does not smell without me. (Without me) the tongue does not apprehend taste. The eye does not seize colour, the skin does not feel touch, the ear does not apprehend sound, when deprived of me. I am the eternal and foremost one among all the elements. It always happens that destitute of myself, the senses never shine, like habitations empty of inmates or fires whose flames have been quenched. Without me, all creatures fail to apprehend qualities and objects, with even the senses exerting themselves, even as fuel that is wet and dry (failing to ignite a fire)." "'"'Hearing these words, the Senses said, "Even this would be true as thou thinkest in this matter, if, indeed, thou couldst enjoy pleasures without either ourselves or our objects.[63] What thou thinkest, would be true, if, when we are extinct, there be gratification and support of life, and a continuation of thy enjoyments, or, if, when we are absorbed and objects are existing, thou canst have thy enjoyments by thy desire alone, as truly as thou hast them with our aid. If, again, thou deemest thy power over our objects to be always complete, do thou then seize colour by the nose, and taste by the eye. Do thou also take smell by the ear, and sensations of touch by the tongue. Do thou also take sounds by the skin, and likewise touch by the understanding. They that are powerful do not own the dominion of any rules. Rules exist for those only that are weak. Do thou seize enjoyments unenjoyed before; it behoves thee not to enjoy what has been tasted before (by others). As a disciple repairs to a preceptor for the sake of (acquiring) the Srutis, and then, having acquired the Srutis, dwells on their import (by obeying their injunctions), even so dost thou regard as thine those objects which are shown by us, past or future, in sleep or in wakefulness. Of creatures, again, that are of little intelligence, when their mind becomes distracted and cheerless, life is seen to be upheld upon our objects discharging their functions.[64] It is seen also that a creature, after having formed even innumerable purposes and indulged in dreams, when afflicted by the desire to enjoy, runs to objects of sense at once.[65] One entering upon enjoyments depending on mental purposes alone and unconnected with actual objects of sense, always meets with death upon the exhaustion of the life-breaths, like an enkindled fire upon the exhaustion of fuel. True it is that we have connections with our respective attributes; true it is, we have no knowledge of one another's attributes. But without us thou canst have no perception. Without us no happiness can come to thee."'"'" SECTION XXIII "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection, O blessed lady, is cited the ancient story of what kind the institution is of the five sacrificing priests. The learned know this to be a great principle that Prana and Apana and Udana and Samana and Vyana are the five sacrificing priests.' "'"The Brahmana's wife said, 'That naturally there are seven sacrificing priests is what was my former conviction. Let the great principle be declared to me as to how, verily, the number is five of the sacrificing priests.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'The wind nursed by Prana afterwards takes birth in Apana. The wind nursed in Apana then becomes developed into Vyana. Nursed by Vyana, the wind is then developed into Udana. Nursed in Udana, the wind is then generated as Samana. Those good beings in days of yore asked the first-born Grandsire, saying--"Do thou say who amongst us is the foremost. He (whom thou wilt indicate) will be our chief." "'"Brahmana said, '"He upon whose extinction all the life-breaths become extinct in the bodies of living creatures, he upon whose moving they move, is verily the foremost (among you). Do ye go where ye like." "'"'Prana said, "Upon my extinction all the life-breaths become extinct in the bodies of living creatures. Upon my moving they once more move. I am (therefore) the foremost. Behold, I go into extinction!"' "'"The Brahmana continued, 'Prana then became extinct and once more moved about. Then Samana and Udana also, O blessed one, said these words--"Thou dost not dwell here, pervading all this, as we do. Thou art not the foremost amongst us, O Prana. (Only) Apana is under thy dominion." Prana then moved about, and unto him Apana spoke. "'"'Apana said, "When I become extinct, all the life-winds become extinct in the bodies of living creatures. When I move about, they again move about. I am, therefore, the foremost. Behold, I go into extinction!" "'"The Brahmana continued, 'Unto Apana who said so, both Vyana and Udana said--"O Apana, thou art not the foremost. (Only) Prana is under thy dominion." Then Apana began to move about. Vyana once more addressed him saying, "I am the foremost of all (the life-winds). Listen, for what reason. When I become extinct, all the life-winds become extinct in the bodies of living creatures. When I move about, they once more move about. I am (therefore) the foremost. Behold, I go into extinction!" "'"The Brahmana continued, 'Then Vyana went into extinction and once more began to move about. At this, Prana and Apana and Udana and Samana addressed him, saying, "Thou art not the foremost among us, O Vyana! (Only) Samana is under thy dominion."--Vyana then began to move about and Samana said unto him,--"I am the foremost of you all. Listen, for what reason. When I become extinct, all the life-winds become extinct in the bodies of living creatures. When I begin to move about, they once more move about. Hence, I am the foremost. Behold, I go into extinction!" Then Samana began to move about. Unto him Udana said, "I am the foremost of all the life-winds. Listen, for what reason. When I become extinct, all the life-winds become extinct in the bodies of living creatures. When I move about they once more move about. Hence, I am the foremost. Behold, I go into extinction!"--Then Udana, after having gone into extinction, began once more to move about, Prana and Apana and Samana and Vyana said, unto him, O Udana, "thou art not the foremost one among us, only Vyana is under thy dominion." "'"The Brahmana continued, 'Unto them assembled together, the Lord of creatures, Brahma, said, "No one of you is superior to others. Ye are all endued with particular attributes. All are foremost in their own spheres, and all possess special attributes." Thus said unto them, that were assembled together, the Lord of all creatures. There is one that is unmoving, and one that is moving. In consequence of special attributes, there are five life-winds. My own self is one. That one accumulates into many forms. Becoming friendly unto one another, and gratifying one another, depart in peace. Blessings to ye, do ye uphold one another!'"'" SECTION XXIV "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection is cited the ancient story of the discourse between Narada and the Rishi Devamata.' "'"'Devamata said, "What verily, comes first into existence, of a creature that takes birth? Is it Prana, or Apana, or Samana, or Vyana, or Udana?" "'"'Narada said, "By whatever the creature is created, that first comes unto him which is other (or separate from him). The life winds are to be known as existing in pairs, viz., those that move transversely, upwards, and downwards." "'"'Devamata said, "By whom (among the life-winds) is a creature produced? Who (amongst) them comes first? Do thou tell me what the pairs are of the life-winds, that move transversely, upwards, and downwards." "'"'Narada said, "From Sankalpa (wish) arises Pleasure. It also arises from sound. It arises also from taste; it arises too from colour. From the semen, united with blood, first flows Prana. Upon the semen being modified by Prana, flows Apana. Pleasure arises from the semen as well. It arises from taste also. This is the form (effect) of Udana. Pleasure is produced from union. Semen is generated by desire. From desire is produced the menstrual flow. In the union of semen and blood, generated by Samana and Vyana, the pair that consists of Prana and Apana, enters, moving transversely and upwards, Vyana and Samana both form a pair that moves transversely. Agni (fire) is all the deities. Even this is the teaching of the Veda. The knowledge of Agni arises in a Brahmana with intelligence. The smoke of that fire is of the form of (the attribute called) Darkness. The attribute that is known by the name of Passion is in its ashes. The quality of goodness arises from that portion of the fire into which the oblation is poured.[66] They that are conversant with sacrifices know that Samana and Vyana are from the attribute of Goodness. Prana and Apana are portions of the oblation (of clarified butter). Between them is the Fire. That is the excellent form (or seat) of Udana, as the Brahmanas know. Listen as I say which is distinct from the pairs. Day and Night constitute a pair. Between them is the Fire. That is the excellent seat of Udana as the Brahmanas know. The existent and the non-existent form a pair. Between them is the Fire. That is the excellent seat of Udana as the Brahmanas know. First is Samana; then Vyana. The latter's function is managed through it (viz., Samana). Then, secondly, Samana once more comes into operation. Only Vyana exists for tranquillity. Tranquillity is eternal Brahman. This is the excellent seat of Udana as the Brahmanas know."'"'"[67] SECTION XXV "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection is recited the ancient story of what the institution is of the Chaturhotra (sacrifice). The ordinances are now being duly declared of that in its entirety. Listen to me, O amiable lady, as I declare this wonderful mystery. The agent, the instrument, the action and Emancipation,--these, O beautiful lady, are the four sacrificing priests by whom the universe is enveloped. Hear in its entirety the assignment of causes (relating to this topic). The nose, the tongue, the eye, the skin, the ear numbering the fifth, the mind, and the understanding,--these seven should be understood as being caused by (the knowledge of) qualities. Smell, taste, colour, sound, touch, numbering the fifth, the objects of the mind, and the objects of the understanding, these seven are caused by action. He who smells, he who eats, he who sees, he who speaks, he who hears, numbering the fifth, he who thinks, and he who understands--these seven should be known as caused by the agent. Possessed of qualities, these enjoy their own qualities, agreeable or disagreeable.[68] As regards the Soul, that is destitute of qualities. These seven are the causes of Emancipation. With them that are learned and possessed of sufficient understanding, the qualities, which are in the position of deities, eat the oblations, each in its proper place, and agreeably to what has been ordained. The person who is destitute of learning, eating diverse kind of food, becomes seized with the sense of mineness.[69] Digesting food for himself, he becomes ruined through the sense of mineness. The eating of food that should not be eaten, and the drinking of wine, ruin him. He destroys the food (he takes), and having destroyed that food, he becomes destroyed himself. The man of learning, however, being possessed of puissance, destroys his food for reproducing it. The minutest transgression does not arise in him from the food he takes. Whatever is thought of by the mind, whatever is uttered by speech, whatever is heard by the ear, whatever is seen by the eye, whatever is touched by the (sense of) touch, whatever is smelt by the nose, constitute oblations of clarified butter which should all, after restraining the senses with the mind numbering the sixth, be poured into that fire of high merits which burns within the body, viz., the Soul.[70] The sacrifice constituted by Yoga is going on as regards myself. The spring whence that sacrifice proceeds is that which yields the fire of knowledge. The upward life-wind Prana is the Stotra of that sacrifice. The downward life-wind Apana is its Sastra. The renunciation of everything is the excellent Dakshina of that sacrifice. Consciousness, Mind, and Understanding--these becoming Brahma, are its Hotri, Adhwaryyu, and Udgatri. The Prasastri, his Sastra, is truth.[71] Cessation of separate existence (or Emancipation) is the Dakshina. In this connection, people conversant with Narayana recite some Richs. Unto the divine Narayana were animals offered in days of yore.[72] Then are sung some Samanas. On that topic occurs an authority. O timid one, know that the divine Narayana is the soul of all.'"'" SECTION XXVI "'"The Brahmana said, 'There is one Ruler. There is no second beside him. He that is Ruler resides in the heart. I shall speak now of him. Impelled by Him, I move as directed, like water along an inclined plane. There is one Preceptor. There is no second beside him. He resides in the heart, and of him I shall now speak. Be instructed by that preceptor; they who are always endued with feelings of animosity are like snakes. There is one kinsman. There is no second beside him. He resides in the heart of him I shall now speak. Instructed by him, kinsmen become possessed of kinsmen, and the seven Rishis, O son of Pritha, shine in the firmament. There is one dispeller. There is no second beside him. He resides in the heart. Of him I shall now speak. Having lived with that instructor under the proper mode of living, Sakra attained to the sovereignty of all the worlds.[73] There is one enemy. There is no second beside him. He resides in the heart. Of him I shall now speak. Instructed by that preceptor all snakes in the world are always endued with feelings of animosity. In this connection is cited the ancient story of the instruction of the snakes, the deities, and the Rishis by the Lord of all creatures. The deities and the Rishis, the snakes, and the Asuras, seated around the Lord of all creatures, asked him, saying,--"Let that which is highly beneficial for us be declared." Unto them that enquired about what is highly beneficial, the holy one uttered only the word Om, which is Brahman in one syllable. Hearing this, they ran away in various directions. Amongst them that thus ran in all directions from desire of self-instruction, the disposition first arose in snakes of biting. Of the Asuras, the disposition, born of their nature for ostentations, pride arose. The deities betook themselves to gifts, and the great Rishis to self-restraint. Having repaired to one teacher, and having been instructed (refined) by one word, the snakes, the deities, the Rishis, and the Danavas, all betook themselves to diverse different dispositions. It is that one who hears himself when speaking, and apprehends it duly. Once, again, is that heard from him when he speaks. There is no second preceptor.[74] It is in obedience to his counsels that action afterwards flows. The instructor, the apprehender, the hearer, and the enemy, are pleased within the heart. By acting sinfully in the world it is he that becomes a person of sinful deeds. By acting auspiciously in the world, it is he who becomes a person of auspicious deeds. It is he who becomes a person of unrestrained conduct by becoming addicted to the pleasures of sense, impelled by desire. It is he who becomes a Brahmacharin by always devoting himself to the subjugation of his senses. It is he, again, that casts off vows and actions and takes refuge on Brahman alone. By moving in the world, identifying himself the while with Brahman, he becomes a Brahmacharin. Brahman is his fuel; Brahman is his fire; Brahman is his origin; Brahman is his water; Brahman is his preceptor: he is rapt in Brahman. Brahmacharyya is even so subtle, as understood by the wise. Having understood it, they betook themselves to it, instructed by the Kshetrajna!'"'"[75] SECTION XXVII "'"The Brahmana said, 'Having crossed that impassable fastness (the world) which has purposes for its gadflies and mosquitoes, grief and joy for its cold and heat, heedlessness for its blinding darkness, cupidity and diseases for its reptiles, wealth for its one danger on the road, and lust and wrath its robbers, I have entered the extensive forest of (Brahman)'. "'"The wife of the Brahmana said, 'Where is that foremost, O thou of great wisdom? What are its trees? What its rivers? What its mountains and hills? How far is that forest?' "'"The Brahmana said, 'There exists nothing that is separate from it. There is nothing more delightful than it. There is nothing that is unseparated from it. There is nothing more afflicting than it. There is nothing smaller than that. There is nothing vaster than that. There is nothing minuter than that. There is no happiness that can resemble it. Regenerate persons, entering into it, at once transcend both joy and sorrow. They (then) never stand in fear of any creature, nor does any creature stand in fear of them. In that forest are seven large trees, seven fruits, and seven guests. There are seven hermitages, seven (forms of) Yoga concentration, and seven (forms) of initiation. Even this a description of that forest.[76] The trees which stand filling that forest, produce excellent flowers and fruits of five colours. The trees which stand there filling that forest, produce flowers and fruits that are of excellent colours and that are, besides, of two kinds. The trees which stand there filling that forest, produce flowers and fruits that are endued with fragrance and that are, besides, of two colours. The trees which stand there filling that forest, produce flowers and fruits that are possessed of fragrance and that are, besides, of one colour. The two trees which stand filling that forest, produce many flowers and fruits that are of unmanifest colours. There is one fire here, possessed of a good mind. That is connected with Brahmana. The five senses are the fuel here. The seven forms of Emancipation flowing from them are the seven forms of Initiation. The qualities are the fruits, and the guests eat those fruits. There, in diverse places, the great Rishis accept hospitality. When they, having been worshipped, become annihilated, then another forest shines forth. In that forest, Intelligence is the tree; Emancipation is the fruit; Tranquillity is the shade of which it is possessed. It has knowledge for its resting house, contentment for its water, and the Kshetrajna for its sun. Its end cannot be ascertained upwards, downwards, or horizontally. Seven females always dwell there, with faces downwards, possessed of effulgence, and endued with the cause of generations. They take up all the different tastes from all creatures, even as inconstancy sucks up truth. In that itself dwell, and from that emerge, the seven Rishis who are crowned with ascetic success, with those seven having Vasishtha for their foremost. Glory, effulgence, greatness, enlightenment, victory, perfection, and energy, these seven always follow this same like rays following the sun. Hills and mountains also exist there, collected together; and rivers and streams bearing waters in their course, waters that are born of Brahma. And there happens a confluence also of streams in the secluded spot for sacrifice. Thence those that are contented with their own souls proceed to the Grandsire. Those whose wishes have been reduced, whose wishes have been directed to excellent vows, and whose sins have been burnt off by penances, merging themselves in their souls, succeed in attaining to Brahman. Tranquillity is praised by those who are conversant with the forest of knowledge. Keeping that forest in view, they take birth so as not to lose courage. Even such is that sacred forest that is understood by Brahmanas, and understanding it, they live (in accordance with the ordinance), directed by the Kshetrajna.'"'" SECTION XXVIII "'"The Brahmana said, 'I do not smell scents. I do not perceive tastes. I do not see colours. I do not touch. I do not likewise hear the diverse sounds (that arise). Nor do I entertain purposes of any kind. It is Nature that desires such objects as are liked; it is Nature that hates such objects as are disliked. Desire and aversion spring from Nature, after the manner of the upward and the downward life-winds when souls have entered animate bodies. Separated from them are others; in them are eternal dispositions; (these as also) the soul of all creatures. Yogins would behold in the body. Dwelling in that, I am never attached to anything through desire and wrath, and decrepitude and death. Not having any desire for any object of desire, and not having any aversion for any evil, there is no taint on my natures, as there is no taint of a drop of water on (the leaves of) the lotus. Of this constant (principle) which looks upon diverse natures, they are inconstant possessions.[77] Though actions are performed, yet the assemblage of enjoyments does not attach itself to them, even as the assemblage of rays of the sun does not attach to the sky. In this connection is recited an ancient story of a discourse between an Adhwaryu and a Yati. Do thou hear it, O glorious lady. Beholding an animal sprinkled with water at a sacrificial ceremony, a Yati said unto the Adhwaryu seated there these words in censure,--"This is destruction of life!" unto him the Adhwaryu said in reply,--"This goat will not be destroyed. The animal (sacrificed) meets with great good, if the Vedic declaration on this subject be true. That part of this animal which is of earth will go to earth. That part of this one which is born of water, will enter into water. His eye will enter the sun; his ear will enter the different points of the horizon; his life-winds will enter the sky. I who adhere to the scriptures incur no fault (by assisting at the killing of this animal)." "'"'The Yati said, "If thou beholdest such good to the goat in this dissociation with (his) life-winds, then this sacrifice is for the goat. What need hast thou for it? Let the brother, father, mother, and friend (of this goat) give thee their approval in this. Taking him (to them) do thou consult them. This goat is especially dependent. It behoveth thee to see them who can give their consent in this. After hearing their consent, the matter will become fit for consideration. The life-winds of this goat have been made to return to their respective sources. Only the inanimate body remains behind. This is what I think. Of those who wish to enjoy felicity by means of the inanimate body (of an animal) which is comparable with fuel, the fuel (of sacrifice) is after all the animal himself. Abstention from cruelty is the foremost of all duties. Even this is the teaching of the elders. We know this is the proposition, viz.,--No slaughter (of living creatures).--If I say anything further, (it will then appear that) diverse kinds of faulty actions are capable of being done by thee. Always abstaining from cruelty to all creatures is what meets with our approbation. We establish this from what is directly perceptible. We do not rely on what is beyond direct perception." "'"'The Adhwaryu said, "Thou enjoyest the properties of smell which belong to the earth. Thou drinkest the tastes which appertain to water. Thou seest colours which belong to lighted bodies. Thou touchest the properties which have their origin in wind. Thou hearest the sounds which have their origin in space (or ether). Thou thinkest thoughts with the mind. All these entities, thou art of opinion, have life. Thou dost not then abstain from taking life. Really, thou art engaged in slaughter. There can be no movement without slaughter. Or, what dost thou think, O regenerate one." "'"'The Yati said, "The Indestructible and the Destructible constitute the double manifestation of the soul. Of these the Indestructible is existent. The Destructible is said to be exceedingly non-existent.[78] The life-wind, the tongue, the mind, the quality of goodness, along with the quality of passion, are all existent. The Atman is above these forms and hence is without duality and hope. As regards one that is freed from these existent objects, that transcends all pairs of opposites, that does not cherish any expectation, that is alike to all creatures, that is liberated from the idea of meum, that has subjugated his self, and that is released from all his surroundings,--for him no fear exists from any source!"[79] "'"'The Adhwaryu said, "O foremost of intelligent men, one should reside with those that are good. Hearing thy opinion my understanding shines with light. O illustrious one, I come to thee, believing thee to be a god; and I say I have no fault, O regenerate one, by performing these rites with the aid of Mantras!"'[80] "'"The Brahmana continued, 'With this conclusion, the Yati remained silent after this. The Adhwaryu also proceeded with the great sacrifice, freed from delusion. The Brahmanas understand Emancipation, which is exceedingly subtle, to be of this kind and having understood it, they live accordingly directed by the Kshetrajna, that beholder of all topics.'"'" SECTION XXIX "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection is cited the ancient story, O lady, of the discourse between Kartaviryya and the Ocean. There was a king of the name of Kartaviryya-Arjuna who was endued with a thousand arms. He conquered, with his bow, the Earth, extending to the shores of the ocean. It has been heard by us that, once on a time, as he was walking on the shores of the sea, proud of his might, he showered hundreds of shafts on that vast receptacle of waters. The Ocean, bowing down unto him, said, with joined hands,--"Do not, O hero, shoot thy shafts (at me)! Say, what shall I do to thee. With these mighty arrows shot by thee, those creatures which have taken shelter in me are being killed, O tiger among kings. Do thou, O lord, grant them security." "'"'Arjuna said, "If any wielder of the bow exists that is equal to me in battle, and that would stand against me in the field, do thou name him to me!" "'"'The Ocean said, "If thou hast heard, O king, of the great Rishi Jamadagni, his son is competent to duly receive thee as a guest."--Then that king proceeded, filled with great wrath. Arrived at that retreat, he found Rama himself. With his kinsmen he began to do many acts that were hostile to Rama, and caused much trouble to that high-souled hero. Then the energy, which was immeasurable of Rama blazed forth, burning the troops of the foe, O lotus-eyed one. Taking up his battle-axe, Rama suddenly put forth his power, and hacked that thousand-armed hero, like a tree of many branches. Beholding him slain and prostrated on the earth, all his kinsmen, uniting together, and taking up their darts, rushed at Rama, who was then seated, from all sides. Rama also, taking up his bow and quickly ascending on his car, shot showers of arrows and chastised the army of the king. Then, some of the Kshatriyas, afflicted with the terror of Jamadagni's son, entered mountain-fastnesses, like deer afflicted by the lion. Of them that were unable, through fear of Rama, to discharge the duties ordained for their order, the progeny became Vrishalas owing to their inability to find Brahmanas.[81] In this way Dravidas and Abhiras and Pundras, together with the Savaras, became Vrishalas through those men who had Kshatriya duties assigned to them (in consequence of their birth), falling away (from those duties). Then the Kshatriyas that were begotten by the Brahmanas upon Kshatriya women that had lost their heroic children, were repeatedly destroyed by Jamadagni's son. The slaughter proceeded one and twenty times. At its conclusion a bodiless voice, sweet and proceeding from heaven, and which was heard by all people, spoke to Rama, "O Rama, O Rama, desist! What merit it dost thou see, O son, in thus destroying repeatedly these inferior Kshatriyas?"[82] In this way, O blessed dame, his grandsires, headed by Richika, addressed that high-souled one, saying. "Do thou desist." Rama, however, unable to forgive the slaughter of his sire, replied unto those Rishis saying, "It behoves you not to forbid me." The Pitris then said, "O foremost of all victorious men, it behoves thee not to slay these inferior Kshatriyas. It is not proper that thyself, being a Brahmana, should slay these kings."'"'" SECTION XXX "'"'The Pitris said, "In this connection is cited this old history. Having heard it, thou shouldst act according to it, O foremost of all regenerate persons. There was a royal sage of the name Alarka endued with the austerest of penances. He was conversant with all duties, truthful in speech, of high soul, and exceedingly firm in his vows. Having, with his bow, conquered the whole Earth extending to the seas, and thereby achieved an exceedingly difficult feat, he set his mind on that which is subtle. While sitting at the root of a tree, his thoughts, O thou of great intelligence, abandoning all those great feats, turned towards that which is subtle. "'"'"Alarka said, 'My mind has become strong. Having conquered the mind, one's conquest becomes permanent. Though surrounded by foes, I shall (henceforth) shoot my arrows at other objects. Since in consequence of its unsteadiness, it sets all mortals to accomplish acts, I shall shoot very sharp-pointed shafts at the mind.' "'"'"The mind said, 'These arrows, O Alarka, will never pierce me through. They will pierce only thy own vital parts. Thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou look out for other arrows with which to destroy me.' Hearing these words and reflecting upon them, he said as follows. "'"'"Alarka said, 'Smelling very many perfumes, the nose hankers after them only. Hence I shall shoot whetted arrows at the nose.' "'"'"The nose said, 'These arrows will never cross through me, O Alarka. They will pierce only thy own vital parts, and thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou look for other arrows with which to destroy me.' Hearing these words and reflecting upon them, he said as follows. "'"'"Alarka said, 'This one (viz., the tongue), enjoying savoury tastes, hankers after them only. Hence I shall shoot whetted shafts at the tongue.' "'"'"The tongue said, 'These arrows, O Alarka, will not cross through me. They will only pierce thy own vital parts and thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou look for other arrows with which to destroy me.' Hearing these words and reflecting upon them, he said as follows. "'"'"Alarka said, 'The skin, touching diverse objects of touch, hankers after them only. Hence, I shall tear off the skin with diverse arrows equipt with the feathers of the Kanka.' "'"'"The skin said, 'These arrows will not, O Alarka, cross through me. They will pierce thy own vital parts only, and thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou look for other arrows with which to destroy me.' Hearing these words and reflecting on them, he said as follows. "'"'"Alarka said, 'Hearing diverse sounds, (the ear) hankers after them only. Hence, I shall shoot whetted shafts at the ear.' "'"'"The ear said, 'These arrows will not, O Alarka, cross through me. They will pierce thy own vital parts only, and thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou then look for other arrows with which to destroy me.' Hearing these words and reflecting upon them, he said as follows. "'"'"Alarka said, 'Seeing many colours, the eye hankers after them only. Hence, I shall destroy the eye with sharp-pointed arrows.' "'"'"The eye said. 'These arrows will not, O Alarka, cross through me at all. They will pierce thy own vital parts only, and thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou then look for other arrows with which to destroy me!' Hearing these words and reflecting upon them, he said as follows. "'"'"Alarka said, 'This (viz., the understanding) forms many determinations with the aid of ratiocination. Hence, I shall shoot whetted arrows at the understanding.' "'"'"The understanding said, 'These arrows will not, O Alarka, cross through me at all. They will pierce thy vital parts only, and thy vital parts being pierced, thou shalt die. Do thou then look for other arrows with which to destroy me!'" "'"The Brahmana continued, '"Then Alarka, employing himself, even there, on penances difficult to perform and exceedingly austere, failed to obtain, by the high power (of his penances) arrows for casting at these seven. Endued with puissance, he then, with mind well concentrated, began to reflect. Then O best of regenerate ones, Alarka, that foremost of intelligent men, having reflected for a long time, failed to obtain anything better than Yoga. Setting his mind on one object, he remained perfectly still, engaged in Yoga.[83] Endued with energy, he quickly slew all the senses with one arrow, having entered by Yoga into his soul and thereby attained to the highest success. Filled with wonder, that royal sage then sang this verse: 'Alas, it is a pity that we should have accomplished all acts that are external! Alas, that we should have, endued with the thirst for enjoyment, courted (the pleasures of) sovereignty before now! I have learnt this afterwards. There is no happiness that is higher than Yoga.'--Do thou know this, O Rama. Cease to slay the Kshatriyas. Do thou practise the austerest of penances. Thou wilt then attain to what is good.'"--Thus addressed by his grandsires, Jamadagni's son practised the austerest penances, and having practised them, that highly blessed one attained to that success which is difficult to reach.'"'" SECTION XXXI "'"The Brahmana said, 'There are three foes in the world. They are said to be ninefold, agreeably to their qualities. Exultation, satisfaction, and joy,--these three qualities appertain to Goodness.[84] Cupidity, wrath, and hatred, these three qualities are said to appertain to Passion. Lassitude, procrastination, and delusion, these three qualities appertain to darkness. Cutting these with showers of arrows, the man of intelligence, free from procrastination, possessed of a tranquil soul, and with his senses under subjection, ventures to vanquish others.[85] In this connection, persons conversant with (the occurrence of) ancient cycles recite some verses which were sung in days of old by king Amvarisha who had acquired a tranquil soul. When diverse kinds of faults were in the ascendant and when the righteous were afflicted, Amvarisha of great fame put forth his strength for assuming sovereignty.[86] Subduing his own faults and worshipping the righteous, he attained to great success and sang these verses.--"I have subdued many faults. I have killed all foes. But there is one, the greatest, vice which deserves to be destroyed but which has not been destroyed by me! Urged by that fault, this Jiva fails to attain to freedom from desire. Afflicted by desire, one runs into ditches without knowing it. Urged by that fault, one indulges in acts that are forbidden. Do thou cut off, cut off, that cupidity with sharp-edged swords. From cupidity arise desires. From desire flows anxiety. The man who yields to desire acquires many qualities that appertain to passion. When these have been acquired, he gets many qualities that appertain to Darkness. In consequence of those qualities, he repeatedly takes birth, with the bonds of body united, and is impelled to action. Upon the expiration of life, with body becoming dismembered and scattered, he once meets with death which is due to birth itself.[87] Hence, duly understanding this, and subduing cupidity by intelligence, one should desire for sovereignty in one's soul. This is (true) sovereignty. There is no other sovereignty here. The soul, properly understood, is the king." Even these were the verses sung by king Amvarisha of great celebrity, on the subject of sovereignty which he kept before him,--that king who had cut off the one foremost fault viz., cupidity.'"'" SECTION XXXII "'"The Brahmana said, 'In this connection is cited the old narrative, O lady, of the discourse between a Brahmana and (king) Janaka. King Janaka (on a certain occasion), desirous of punishing him, said unto a Brahmana who had become guilty of some offence, "Thou shalt not dwell within my dominions." Thus addressed, the Brahmana replied unto that best of kings, saying, "Tell me, O king, what the limits are of the territories subject to thee. I desire, O lord, to dwell within the dominions of another king. Verily, I wish to obey thy behest, O lord of Earth, agreeably to the scriptures."--Thus addressed by that celebrated Brahmana, the king, hearing repeated and hot sighs, said not a word in reply. Like the planet Rahu overwhelming the Sun, a cloudedness of understanding suddenly overwhelmed that king of immeasurable energy as he sat plunged in thought. When that cloudedness of understanding passed away and the king became comforted, he spoke after a short while these words unto that Brahmana. "'"'Janaka said, "Although a (large) inhabited tract is subject to me within this ancestral kingdom of mine, yet I fail to find my dominion, searching through the whole Earth. When I failed to find it on the Earth, I then searched Mithila (for it). When I failed to find it in Mithila, I then searched for it among my own children. When I failed to find it even there, a cloudedness of understanding came over me. After that cloudedness of understanding passed away, intelligence came back to me. Then I thought that I have no dominion, or that everything is my dominion. Even this body is not mine, or the whole Earth is mine. At the same time, O best of regenerate persons, I think that that is as much mine as it is of others. Do thou, therefore, dwell (here) as long as thy choice leads thee, and do thou enjoy as long as thou pleasest."' "'"The Brahmana said, '"When there is a large inhabited tract in thy ancestral kingdom, tell me, depending upon what understanding, has the idea of meum been got rid of by thee. What also is that understanding depending upon which thou hast come to the conclusion that everything constitutes thy dominion? What, indeed, is the notion through which thou hast no dominion, or everything is thy dominion?"' "'"'Janaka said, "All conditions here, in all affairs, have been understood by me to be terminable. Hence, I could not find that which should be called mine.[88] (Considering) whose is this, I thought of the Vedic text about anybody's property. I could not, therefore, find, by my understanding, what should be (called) mine.[89] Depending upon this notion, I got rid of idea of mineness. Hear now what that notion is depending upon which I came to the conclusion that I have dominion everywhere. I do not desire for my own self those smells that are even in my nose. Therefore, the earth, subjugated by me, is always subject to me.[90] I do not desire for my own self those tastes that exist in contact with even my tongue. Therefore, water, subjugated by me, is always subject to me. I do not desire for my own self the colour or light that appertains to my eye. Therefore, light subjugated by me, is always subject to me. I do not desire for my own self those sensations of touch which are in contact with even my skin. Therefore, the wind, subjugated by me, is always subject to me. I do not desire for my own self those sounds which are in contact with even my ear. Therefore sounds, subjugated by me, are always subject to me. I do not desire for my own self the mind that is always in my mind. Therefore the mind, subjugated by me, is subject to me. All these acts of mine are for the sake of the deities, the Pitris, the Bhutas, together with guests."[91]--The Brahmana then, smiling, once more said unto Janaka,--"Know that I am Dharma, who have come here today for examining thee. Thou art verily the one person for setting this wheel in motion, this wheel that has the quality of Goodness for its circumference, Brahmin for its nave, and the understanding for its spokes, and which never turns back!"'"'"[92] SECTION XXXIII "'"The Brahmana said, 'I do not, O timid one, move in this world in that manner which thou, according to thy own understanding, censurest. I am a Brahmana possessed of Vedic knowledge. I am emancipated. I am a forest recluse. I am an observer of the duties of a house-holder. I observe vows. I am not what thou seest me in good and bad acts. By me is pervaded everything that exists in this universe. Whatever creatures exist in the world, mobile or immobile, know that I am the destroyer of them all, even as fire is (the destroyer) of all kinds of wood. Of sovereignty over the whole Earth or over Heaven (on the one hand), or this knowledge (of my identity with the universe), this knowledge is my wealth.[93] This is the one path for Brahmanas, by which they who understand it proceed to house-holds, or abodes in the forest, or residence with preceptors, or among mendicants.[94] With numerous unconfused symbols, only one knowledge is worshipped. Those who, whatever the symbols and modes of life to which they adhere, have acquired an understanding having tranquillity for its essence, attain to that one entity even as numerous rivers all meeting the Ocean.[95] The path is traversable with the aid of the understanding and not of this body. Actions have both beginning and end, and the body has actions for its bonds.[96] Hence, O blessed lady, thou needst have no apprehension in respect of the world hereafter. With thy heart intent upon the real entity, it is my soul into which thou wilt come.'"'" SECTION XXXIV "'"The Brahmana's wife said, 'This is incapable of being understood by a person of little intelligence as also by one whose soul has not been cleansed. My intelligence is very little, and contracted, and confused. Do thou tell me the means by which the knowledge (of which thou speakest) may be acquired. I wish to learn from thee the source from which this knowledge flows.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Know that intelligence devoted to Brahman, is the lower Arani; the preceptor is the upper Arani; penances and conversance with the scriptures are to cause the attrition. From this is produced the fire of knowledge.' "'"The Brahmana's wife said, 'As regards this symbol of Brahman, which is designated Kshetrajna, where, indeed, occurs a description of it by which it is capable of being seized?' "'"The Brahmana said, 'He is without symbols, and without qualities. Nothing exists that may be regarded as his cause. I shall, however, tell thee the means by which he can be seized or not. A good means may be found; viz., perception of hearing, etc. as flowers are perceived by bees. That means consists of an understanding cleansed by action. Those whose understandings have not been so cleansed, regard that entity, through their own ignorance, as invested with the properties of knowledge and others.[97] It is not laid down that this should be done, of that this should not be done, in the rules for achieving Emancipation,--those, that is, in which a knowledge of the soul arises only in him who sees and hears.[98] One should comprehend as many parts, unmanifest and manifest by hundreds and thousands, as one is capable of comprehending here. Indeed, one should comprehend diverse objects of diverse import, and all objects of direct perception. Then will come, from practice (of contemplation and self-restraint, etc.), that above which nothing exists.'"[99] "'The holy one continued, "Then the mind of that Brahmana's wife, upon the destruction of the Kshetrajna, became that which is beyond Kshetrajna, in consequence of the knowledge of Kshetra."[100] "'Arjuna said, "Where, indeed, is that Brahmana's wife, O Krishna, and where is that foremost of Brahmanas, by both of whom was such success attained. Do thou, tell me about them, O thou of unfading glory." "'The blessed and holy one said, "Know that my mind is the Brahmana, and that my understanding is the Brahmana's wife. He who has been spoken of as Kshetrajna is I myself, O Dhananjaya!"'" SECTION XXXV "'Arjuna said, "It behoveth thee to expound Brahma to me,--that which is the highest object of knowledge. Through thy favour, my mind is delighted with these subtle disquisitions." "'Vasudeva said,--"In this connection is recited the old history of the discourse between a preceptor and his disciple on the subject of Brahman. Once on a time, O scorcher of foes, an intelligent disciple questioned a certain Brahmana of rigid vows who was his preceptor, as he was seated (at his ease), saying,--'What, indeed, is the highest good? Desirous of attaining to that which constitutes the highest good, I throw myself at thy feet, O holy one. O learned Brahmana, I solicit thee, bending my head, to explain to me what I ask.'--Unto that disciple, O son of Pritha, who said so, the preceptor said,--'O regenerate one, I shall explain to thee everything about which thou mayst have any doubts.'--Thus addressed, O foremost one of Kuru's race, by his preceptor, that disciple who was exceedingly devoted to his preceptor, spoke as follows, with joined hands. Do thou hear what he said, O thou of great intelligence. "'"The Disciple said, 'Where am I? Whence art thou? Explain that which is the highest truth. From what source have sprung all creatures mobile and immobile? By what do creatures live? What is the limit of their life? What is truth? What is penance, O learned Brahmana? What are called attributes by the good? What paths are to be called auspicious? What is happiness? What is sin? O holy one, O thou of excellent vows, it behoves thee to answer these questions of mine, O learned Rishi, correctly, truly, and accurately. Who else is there in this world than thee that is capable of answering these questions? Do thou answer them, O foremost of all persons conversant with duties. My curiosity is great. Thou art celebrated in all the worlds as one well skilled in the duties relating to Emancipation. There is none else than thou that is competent to remove all kinds of doubts. Afraid of worldly life, we have become desirous of achieving Emancipation.'" "'Vasudeva said, "Unto that disciple who had humbly sought his instruction and put the questions duly, who was devoted to his preceptor and possessed of tranquillity, and who always behaved in a manner that was agreeable (to his instructor), who lived so constantly by the side of his instructor as to have almost become his shadow, who was self-restrained, and who had the life of a Yati and Brahmacharin, O son of Pritha, that preceptor possessed of intelligence and observant of vows, duly explained all the questions, O foremost one of Kuru's race, O chastiser of all foes. "'"The preceptor said, 'All this was declared (in days of old) by Brahma himself (the Grandsire of all the worlds). Applauded and practised by the foremost of Rishis, and depending on a knowledge of the Vedas, it involves a consideration of what constitutes the real entity. We regard knowledge to be the highest object, and renunciation as the best penance. He who, with certainty, knows the true object of knowledge which is incapable of being modified by circumstances, viz., the soul abiding in all creatures, succeeds in going whithersoever he wishes and comes to be regarded as the highest. That learned man who beholds the residence of all things in one place and their severance as well, and who sees unity in diversity, succeeds in freeing himself from misery. He who does not covet anything and does not cherish the idea of mineness with regard to anything, comes to be regarded, although residing in this world, as identifiable with Brahman. He who is conversant with the truth about the qualities of Pradhana (or Nature), acquainted with the creation of all existent objects, divested of the idea of mineness, and without pride, succeeds, without doubt, in emancipating himself. Understanding properly that great tree which has the unmanifest for its seed sprout, and the understanding for its trunk, and high consciousness of self for its branches, and the senses for the cells whence its twigs issue, and the (five) great elements for its flower-buds, and the gross elements for its smaller boughs, which is always endued with leaves, which always puts forth flowers, and upon which all existent objects depend, whose seed is Brahman, and which is eternal,--and cutting all topics with the sharp sword of knowledge, one attains to immortality and casts off birth and death. The conclusions with regard to the past, present, and future, etc, and religion, pleasure and wealth, which are all well known to conclaves of Siddhas, which appertain to remote cycles, and which are, indeed, eternal, I shall declare to thee, O thou of great wisdom. These constitute what is called Good. Men of wisdom, understanding them in this world, attain to success. In days of old, the Rishis Vrihaspati and Bharadwaja, and Gautama and Bhargava, and Vasishtha and Kasyapa, and Viswamitra, and Atri, assembled together for the purpose of asking one another. They thus assembled together after having travelled over all paths and after they had got tired with the acts each of them had done. Those regenerate persons, placing the sage son of Angiras at their head, proceeded to the region of the Grandsire. There they beheld Brahma perfectly cleansed of all sin. Bowing their heads unto that high-souled one who was seated at his ease, the great Rishis, endued with humility, asked him this grave question regarding the highest good. "How should a good man act? How would one be released from sin? What paths are auspicious for us? What is truth, and what is sin? By what action are the two paths, northern and southern, obtained? What is destruction? What is Emancipation? What is birth and what is death of all existent objects?" I shall tell thee, O disciple, what the Grandsire, thus addressed, said unto them, conformably to the scriptures. Do thou listen. "'"'Brahma said, "It is from Truth that all creatures, mobile and immobile, have been born. They live by penance (of action). Understand this, O ye of excellent vows. In consequence of their own actions they live, transcending their own origin.[101] For Truth, when united with qualities, becomes always possessed of five indications. Brahman is Truth. Penance is truth. Prajapati is truth. It is from Truth that all creatures have sprung. Truth is the universe of being. It is for this that Brahmanas who are always devoted to Yoga, who have transcended wrath and sorrow, and who always regard Religion as the causeway (along which every one must pass for avoiding the morass below), take refuge in Truth. I shall now speak of those Brahmanas who are restrained by one another and possessed of knowledge, of the orders, and of those who belong to the four modes of life. The wise say that Religion or duty is one, (though) having four quarters. Ye regenerate ones, I shall speak to ye now of that path which is auspicious and productive of good. That path has constantly been trod over by men possessed of wisdom in order to achieve an identity with Brahman. I shall speak now of that path which is the highest and which is exceedingly difficult of being understood. Do you understand, in all its details, ye highly blessed ones, what is the highest seat. The first step has been said to be the mode of life that appertains to Brahmacharins. The second step is domesticity. After this is the residence in the woods. After that it should be known is the highest step, viz., that relating to Adhyatma.[102] Light, ether (or space), sun, wind, Indra, and Prajapati,--one sees these as long as one does not attain to Adhyatma. I shall declare the means (by which that Adhyatma may be attained). Do ye first understand them. The forest mode of life that is followed by ascetics residing in the woods and subsisting upon fruits and roots and air is laid down for the three regenerate classes. The domestic mode of life is ordained for all the orders. They that are possessed of wisdom say that Religion or duty has Faith for its (chief) indication. Thus have I declared to you the paths leading to the deities. They are adopted by those that are good and wise by their acts. Those paths are the causeways of piety. That person of rigid vows who adopts any one of these modes separately, always succeeds in time to understand the production and destruction of all creatures. I shall now declare, accurately and with reasons, the elements which reside in parts in all objects. The great soul, the unmanifest, egoism (consciousness of identity), the ten and one organs (of knowledge and action), the five great elements, the specific characteristics of the five elements,--these constitute the eternal creation. The number of elements has been said to be four and twenty, and one (more). That person of wisdom who understands the production and destruction of all these elements, that man among all creatures, never meets with delusion. He who understands the elements accurately, all the qualities, all the deities, succeeds in cleansing himself of all sin. Freed from all bonds, such a man succeeds in enjoying all regions of spotless purity."'"'"[103] SECTION XXXVI "'"'Brahma said, "That which is unmanifest, which is indistinct, all-pervading, everlasting, immutable, should be known to become the city (or mansion) of nine portals, possessed of three qualities, and consisting of five ingredients. Encompassed by eleven including Mind which distinguishes (objects), and having Understanding for the ruler, this is an aggregate of eleven.[104] The three ducts that are in it support it constantly. These are the three Nadis. They run continually, and have the three qualities for their essence: Darkness, Passion, and Goodness. These are called the (three) qualities. These are coupled with one another. They exist, depending on one another. They take refuge in one another, and follow one another. They are also joined with one another. The five (principal) elements are characterised by (these) three qualities. Goodness is the match of Darkness. Of Goodness the match is Passion. Goodness is also the match of Passion, and of Goodness the match is Darkness. There where Darkness is restrained, Passion is seen to flow. There where Passion is restrained, Goodness is seen to flow. Darkness should be known to have the night (or obscurity) for its essence. It has three characteristics, and is (otherwise) called Delusion. It has unrighteousness (or sin) also for its indication, and it is always present in all sinful acts. This is the nature of Darkness and it appears also as confined with others. Passion is said to have activity for its essence. It is the cause of successive acts. When it prevails, its indication, among all beings, is production. Splendour, lightness, and faith,--these are the form, that is light, of Goodness among all creatures, as regarded by all good men. The true nature of their characteristics will now be declared by me, with reasons. These shall be stated in aggregation and separation. Do ye understand them. Complete delusion, ignorance, illiberality, indecision in respect of action, sleep, haughtiness, fear, cupidity, grief, censure of good acts, loss of memory, unripeness of judgment, absence of faith, violation of all rules of conduct, want of discrimination, blindness, vileness of behaviour, boastful assertions of performance when there has been no performance, presumption of knowledge in ignorance, unfriendliness (or hostility), evilness of disposition, absence of faith, stupid reasoning, crookedness, incapacity for association, sinful action, senselessness, stolidity, lassitude, absence of self-control, degradation,--all these qualities are known as belonging to Darkness. Whatever other states of mind, connected with delusion, exist in the world, all appertain to Darkness. Frequent ill-speaking of other people, censuring the deities and the Brahmanas, illiberality, vanity, delusion, wrath, unforgiveness, hostility towards all creatures, are regarded as the characteristics of Darkness. Whatever undertakings exist that are unmeritorious (in consequence of their being vain or useless), what gifts there are that are unmeritorious (in consequence of the unworthiness of the donees, the unreasonableness of the time, the impropriety of the object, etc.), vain eating,--these also appertain to Darkness. Indulgence in calumny, unforgiveness, animosity, vanity, and absence of faith are also said to be characteristics of Darkness. Whatever men there are in this world who are characterised by these and other faults of a similar kind, and who break through the restraints (provided by the scriptures), are all regarded as belonging to the quality of Darkness. I shall now declare the wombs where these men, who are always of sinful deeds, have to take their birth. Ordained to go to hell, they sink in the order of being. Indeed, they sink into the hell of (birth in) the brute creation. They become immobile entities, or animals, or beasts of burden; or carnivorous creatures, or snakes, or worms, insects, and birds; or creatures of the oviparous order, or quadrupeds of diverse species; or lunatics, or deaf or dumb human beings, or men that are afflicted by dreadful maladies and regarded as unclean. These men of evil conduct, always exhibiting the indications of their acts, sink in Darkness. Their course (of migrations) is always downwards. Appertaining to the quality of Darkness, they sink in Darkness. I shall, after this, declare what the means are of their improvement and ascent; indeed, by what means they succeed in attaining to the regions that exist for men of pious deeds. Those men who take birth in orders other than humanity, by growing up in view of the religious ceremonies of Brahmanas devoted to the duties of their own order and desirous of doing good to all creatures, succeed, through the aid of such purificatory rites, in ascending upwards. Indeed, struggling (to improve themselves), they at last attain to the same regions with these pious Brahmanas. Verily, they go to Heaven. Even this is the Vedic audition.[105] Born in orders other than humanity and growing old in their respective acts, even thus they become human beings that are, of course, ordained to return. Coming to sinful births and becoming Chandalas or human beings that are deaf or that lisp indistinctly, they attain to higher and higher castes, one after another in proper turn, transcending the Sudra order, and other (consequences of) qualities that appertain to Darkness and that abide in it in course of migrations in this world.[106] Attachment to objects of desire is regarded as great delusion. Here Rishis and Munis and deities become deluded, desirous of pleasure. Darkness, delusion, the great delusion, the great obscurity called wrath, and death, that blinding obscurity, (these are the five great afflictions). As regards wrath, that is the great obscurity (and not aversion or hatred as is sometimes included in the list). With respect then to its colour (nature), its characteristics, and its source, I have, ye learned Brahmanas, declared to you, accurately and in due order, everything about (the quality of) Darkness. Who is there that truly understands it? Who is there that truly sees it? That, indeed, is the characteristic of Darkness, viz., the beholding of reality in what is not real. The qualities of Darkness have been declared to you in various ways. Duly has Darkness, in its higher and lower forms, been described to you. That man who always bears in mind the qualities mentioned here, will surely succeed in becoming freed from all characteristics that appertain to Darkness."'''" SECTION XXXVII "'"'Brahma said, "Ye best of beings, I shall now declare to you accurately what (the quality of) Passion is. Ye highly blessed ones, do you understand what those qualities are that appertain to Passion. Injuring (others), beauty, toil, pleasure and pain, cold and heat, lordship (or power), war, peace, arguments, dissatisfaction, endurance,[107] might, valour, pride, wrath, exertion, quarrel (or collision), jealousy, desire, malice, battle, the sense of meum or mineness, protection (of others), slaughter, bonds, and affliction, buying and selling, lopping off, cutting, piercing and cutting off the coat of mail that another has worn,[108] fierceness, cruelty, vilifying, pointing out the faults of others, thoughts entirely devoted to worldly affairs, anxiety, animosity, reviling of others, false speech, false or vain gifts, hesitancy and doubt, boastfulness of speech, dispraise and praise, laudation, prowess, defiance, attendance (as on the sick and the weak), obedience (to the commands of preceptors and parents), service or ministrations, harbouring of thirst or desire, cleverness or dexterity of conduct, policy heedlessness, contumely, possessions, and diverse decorations that prevail in the world among men, women, animals, inanimate things, houses, grief, incredulousness, vows and regulations, actions with expectation (of good result), diverse acts of public charity, the rites in respect of Swaha salutations, rites of Swadha and Vashat, officiating at the sacrifices of others, imparting of instruction, performance of sacrifices, study, making of gifts, acceptance of gifts, rites of expiation, auspicious acts, the wish to have this and that, affection generated by the merits of the object for which or whom it is felt, treachery, deception, disrespect and respect, theft, killing, desire of concealment, vexation, wakefulness, ostentation, haughtiness, attachment, devotion, contentment, exultation, gambling, indulgence in scandal, all relations arising out of women, attachment to dancing, instrumental music and songs--all these qualities, ye learned Brahmanas, have been said to belong to Passion. Those men on Earth who meditate on the past, present, and the future, who are devoted to the aggregate of three, viz., Religion, Wealth, and Pleasure, who acting from impulse of desire, exult on attaining to affluence in respect of every desire, are said to be enveloped by Passion. These men have downward courses. Repeatedly reborn in this world, they give themselves up to pleasure. They covet what belongs to this world as also all those fruit, that belong to the world hereafter. They make gifts, accept gifts, offer oblations to the Pitris, and pour libations on the sacrificial fire. The qualities of Passion have (thus) been declared to you in their variety. The course of conduct also to which it leads has been properly described to you. The man who always understands these qualities, succeeds in always freeing himself from all of them which appertain to Passion."'"'" SECTION XXXVIII "'"'Brahma said, "I shall, after this discourse to you on that excellent quality which is the third (in the order of our enumeration). It is beneficial to all creatures in the world, and unblamable, and constitutes the conduct of those that are good. Joy, satisfaction, nobility, enlightenment, and happiness, absence of stinginess (or liberality), absence of fear, contentment, disposition for faith, forgiveness, courage, abstention from injuring any creature, equability, truth, straightforwardness, absence of wrath, absence of malice, purity, cleverness, prowess, (these appertain to the quality of Goodness). He who is devoted to the duty of Yoga, regarding knowledge to be vain, conduct to be vain, service to be vain, and mode of life to be vain, attains to what is highest in the world hereafter. Freedom from the idea of meum, freedom from egoism, freedom from expectations, looking on all with an equal eye, and freedom from desire,--these constitute the eternal religion of the good. Confidence, modesty, forgiveness, renunciation, purity, absence of laziness, absence of cruelty, absence of delusion, compassion to all creatures, absence of the disposition to calumniate, exultation, satisfaction, rapture, humility, good behaviour, purity in all acts having for their object the attainment of tranquillity, righteous understanding, emancipation (from attachments), indifference, Brahmacharyya, complete renunciation, freedom from the idea of meum, freedom from expectations, unbroken observance of righteousness, belief that gifts are vain, sacrifices are vain, study is vain, vows are vain, acceptance of gifts is vain, observance of duties is vain, and penances are vain--those Brahmanas in this world, whose conduct is marked by these virtues, who adhere to righteousness, who abide in the Vedas, are said to be wise and possessed of correctness of vision. Casting off all sins and freed from grief, those men possessed of wisdom attain to Heaven and create diverse bodies (for themselves). Attaining the power of governing everything, self-restraint, minuteness, these high-souled ones make by operations of their own mind, like the gods themselves dwelling in Heaven. Such men are said to have their courses directed upwards. They are veritable gods capable of modifying all things. Attaining to Heaven, they modify all things by their very nature. They get whatever objects they desire and enjoy them.[109] Thus have I, ye foremost of regenerate ones, described to you what that conduct is which appertains to the quality of goodness. Understanding these duly, one acquires whatever objects one desires. The qualities that appertain to goodness have been declared particularly. The conduct which those qualities constitute has also been properly set forth. That man who always understands these qualities, succeeds in enjoying the qualities without being attached to them."'"'" SECTION XXXIX "'"'Brahma said, "The qualities are incapable of being declared as completely separate from one another. Passion and Goodness and Darkness are seen existing in a state of union. They are attached to one another. They depend on one another. They have one another for their refuge. They likewise follow one another. As long as goodness exists, so long does Passion exist. There is no doubt in this. As long as Darkness and Goodness exist, so long does Passion exist. They make their journey together, in union, and moving collectively. They, verily, move in body, when they act with cause or without cause. Of all these which act with one another, however, much they may differ in their development, the manner in which their increase and diminution take place will now be declared. There where Darkness exists in an increased measure, in the lower creatures (for example), Passion exists in a smaller measure and Goodness in a measure that is still less. There where Passion exists in a copious measure, in creatures of middle course, Darkness exists in a smaller measure and Goodness in a measure that is still less. There where Goodness exists in a copious measure, in creatures of upward courses, Darkness should be known to exist in a small measure and Passion in a measure that is still less. Goodness is the spring that causes the modifications of the senses. It is the great enlightener. No duty has been laid down that is higher than Goodness. They who abide in Goodness proceed upwards. They who abide in Passion remain in the middle. They who abide in Darkness, being characterised by qualities that are low, sink downwards. Darkness occurs in the Sudra; Passion in the Kshatriya; and Goodness, which is the highest, in the Brahmana. The three qualities exist even thus in the three orders. Even from a distance, the three qualities of darkness and Goodness and Passion, are seen to exist in a state of union and more collectively. They are never seen in a state of separation.[110] Beholding the sun rising, men of evil deeds become inspired with fear. Travellers on their way become afflicted with heat, and suffer distress. The Sun is Goodness developed, men of evil deeds represent Darkness; the heat which travellers on their way feel is said to be a quality of Passion. The sun representing light is Goodness; the heat is the quality of Passion; the shading (or eclipse) of the sun on Parvana days should be known to represent Darkness. Even thus, the three qualities exist in all luminous bodies. They act by turns in diverse places in diverse ways. Among immobile objects, the quality of Darkness exists in a very large measure. The qualities appertaining to Passion are those properties of theirs which undergo constant changes. Their oleaginous attributes appertain to Goodness.[111] The Day should be understood as threefold. The Night has been ordained to be threefold. So also are fortnight, months, years, seasons, and conjunctions.[112] The gifts that are wide are threefold. Threefold is sacrifice that flows. Threefold are the worlds; threefold the deities; threefold is knowledge; and threefold the path or end. The past, the Present, and the Future; Religion, Wealth, and Pleasure. Prana, Apana, and Udana; these also are fraught with the three qualities. Whatever object exists in this world, everything in it is fraught with the three qualities. The three qualities act by turns in all things and in all circumstances. Verily, the three qualities always act in an unmanifest form. The creation of those three, viz., Goodness, Passion, and Darkness is eternal. The unmanifest, consisting of the three qualities, is said to be darkness, unperceived, holy, Constant, unborn, womb, eternal, Nature, change or modification, destruction, Pradhana, production, and absorption, undeveloped, not small (i.e., vast), unshaking, immovable, fixed, existent, and non-existent. All these names should be known by those who meditate on matters connected with the soul. That person who accurately knows all the names of the unmanifest, and the qualities, as also the pure operations (of the qualities), is well conversant with the truth about all distinctions and freed from the body, becomes liberated from all the qualities and enjoys absolute happiness."'"'" SECTION XL "'"'Brahma said, "From the unmanifest first sprang Mahat (the Great Soul) endued with great intelligence, the source of all the qualities. That is said to be the first creation. The Great Soul is signified by these synonymous words--the Great Soul, Intelligence, Vishnu, Jishnu, Sambhu of great valour, the Understanding, the means of acquiring knowledge, the means of perception, as also fame, courage, and memory. Knowing this, a learned Brahmana has never to encounter delusion. It has hands and feet on every side, it has ears on every side. It stands, pervading everything in the universe. Of great power, that Being is stationed in the heart of all. Minuteness, Lightness and Affluence, are his. He is the lord of all, and identical with effulgence, and knows not decay. In Him are all those who comprehend the nature of the understanding, all those who are devoted to goodness of disposition, all those who practise meditation, who are always devoted to Yoga, who are firm in truth, who have subdued their senses, who are possessed of knowledge, who are freed from cupidity, who have conquered wrath, who are of cheerful hearts, who are endued with wisdom, who are liberated from ideas of meum (and teum), and who are devoid of egoism. All these, freed from every kind of attachment, attain to the status of Greatness. That person who understands that holy and high goal, viz., the Great Soul, becomes freed from delusion. The self-born Vishnu becomes the Lord in the primary creations. He who thus knows the Lord lying in the cave, the Supreme, Ancient Being, of universal form, the golden one, the highest goal of all persons endued with understanding,--that intelligent man lives, transcending the understanding."'"'" SECTION XLI "'"'Brahma said, "That Mahat who was first produced is called Egoism. When it sprang up as I, it came to be called as the second creation. That Egoism is said to be the source of all creatures, for these have sprung from its modifications. It is pure effulgence and is the supporter of consciousness. It is Prajapati. It is a deity, the creator of deities, and of mind. It is that which creates the three worlds. It is said to be that which feels--I am all this.--That is the eternal world existing for those sages who are contented with knowledge relating to the soul, who have meditated on the soul, and who have won success by Vedic study and sacrifices. By consciousness of soul one enjoys the qualities. That source of all creatures, that creator of all creatures, creates (all creatures) even in this way. It is that which causes all changes. It is that which causes all beings to move. By its own light it illuminates the universe likewise."'"'" SECTION XLII "'"'Brahma said, "From Egoism were verily born the five great elements. They are earth, air, ether, water, and light numbering the fifth. In these five great elements, in the matter of the sound, touch, colour, taste, and smell, all creatures become deluded. When at the close of the destruction of the great elements, the dissolution of the universe approaches, ye that are possessed of wisdom, a great fear comes upon all living creatures. Every existent object is dissolved into that from which it is produced. The dissolution takes place in an order that is the reverse of that in which creation takes place. Indeed, as regards birth, they are born from one another. Then, when all existent objects, mobile and immobile, become dissolved, wise men endued with powerful memory never dissolve. Sound, touch, colour, taste, and smell numbering the fifth, are effects. They are, however, inconstant, and called by the name of delusion. Caused by the production of cupidity, not different from one another, without reality, connected with flesh and blood, and depending upon one another, existing outside the soul, these are all helpless and powerless. Prana and Apana, and Udana and Samana and Vyana,--these five winds are always closely attached to the soul. Together with speech, mind, and understanding, they constitute the universe of eight ingredients. He whose skin, nose, ear, eyes, tongue, and speech are restrained, whose mind is pure, and whose understanding deviates not (from the right path), and whose mind is never burnt by those eight fires, succeeds in attaining to that auspicious Brahman to which nothing superior exists. Those which have been called the eleven organs and which have sprung from Egoism, I shall now, ye regenerate ones, mention particularly. They are the ear, the skin, the two eyes, the tongue, the nose numbering the fifth, the two feet, the lower duct, the organ of generation, the two hands, and speech forming the tenth. These constitute the group of organs, with mind numbering as the eleventh. One should first subdue this group. Then will Brahman shine forth (in him). Five amongst these are called organs of knowledge, and five, organs of action. The five beginning with the ear are truly said to be connected with knowledge. The rest, however, that are connected with action, are without distinction. The mind should be regarded as belonging to both. The understanding is the twelfth in the top. Thus have been enumerated the eleven organs in due order. Learned men, having understood these, think they have accomplished everything. I shall, after this, enumerate all the various organs. Space (or Ether) is the first entity. As connected with the soul, it is called the ear. As connected with objects, that is sound. The presiding deity (of this) is the quarters. The Wind is the second entity. As connected with the soul, it is known as the skin. As connected with objects, it is known as objects of touch; and the presiding deity there is touch. The third is said to be Light. As connected with the soul, it is known as the eye. As connected with objects, it is colour; and the sun is its deity. The fourth (entity) should be known as Water. As connected with the soul, it is said to be the tongue. As connected with objects, it is taste, and the presiding deity there is Soma. The fifth entity is Earth. As connected with the soul, it is said to be the nose. As connected with objects, it is scent; and the presiding deity there is the wind. Thus has the manner been declared of how the five entities are divided into sets of three. After this I shall declare everything about the diverse (other) organs. Brahmanas conversant with the truth say that the two feet are mentioned as connected with the soul. As connected with objects, it is motion; and Vishnu is there the presiding deity. The Apana wind, whose motion is downward, as connected with the soul, is called the lower duct. As connected with objects, it is the excreta that is ejected; and the presiding deity there is Mitra. As connected with the soul, the organ of generation is mentioned, the producer of all beings. As connected with objects, it is the vital seed; and the presiding deity is Prajapati. The two hands are mentioned as connected with the soul by persons conversant with the relations of the soul. As connected with objects, it is actions; and the presiding deity there is Indra. Next, connected with the soul is speech which relates to all the gods. As connected with objects, it is what is spoken. The presiding deity there is Agni. As connected with the soul, the mind is mentioned, which moves within the soul of the five elements.[113] As connected with objects, it is the mental operation; and the presiding deity is Chandramas (moon). As connected with the soul is Egoism, which is the cause of the whole course of worldly life. As connected with objects, it is consciousness of self; and the presiding deity there is Rudra. As connected with the soul is the understanding, which impels the six senses. As connected with objects, it is that which is to be understood, and the presiding deity there is Brahma. Three are the seats of all existent objects. A fourth is not possible. These are land, water, and ether. The mode of birth is fourfold. Some are born of eggs; some are born of germs which spring upwards, penetrating through the earth; some are born of filth; and some are born of fleshy balls in wombs. Thus is the mode of birth seen to be of four kinds, of all living creatures. Now, there are other inferior beings and likewise those that range the sky. These should be known to be born of eggs as also those which crawl on their breasts. Insects are said to be born of filth, as also other creatures of a like description. This is said to be the second mode of birth and is inferior. Those living creatures that take birth after the lapse of some time, bursting through the earth, are said to be germ-born beings, ye foremost of regenerate persons. Creatures of two feet or of many feet and those which move crookedly, are the beings born of wombs. Among them are some that are deformed, ye best of men. The eternal womb of Brahma should be known to be of two kinds, viz., penance and meritorious acts. Such is the doctrine of the learned.[114] Action should be understood to be of various kinds, such as sacrifice, gifts made at sacrifices, and the meritorious duty of study for every one that is born; such is the teaching of the ancients. He who duly understands this, comes to be regarded as possessed of Yoga, ye chief of regenerate persons. Know also that such a man becomes freed too from all his sins. I have thus declared to you duly the doctrine of Adhyatma.[115] Ye Rishis conversant with all duties, a knowledge of this is acquired by those who are regarded as persons of knowledge. Uniting all these together, viz., the senses, the objects of the senses, and the five great entities, one should hold them in the mind.[116] When everything is attenuated (by absorption) in the mind, one no longer esteems the pleasures of life. Learned men, whose understandings are furnished with knowledge, regard that as true happiness.[117] I shall after this, tell thee of renunciation with respect to all entities by means, gentle and hard, which produces attachment to subtle topics and which is fraught with auspiciousness. That conduct which consists in treating the qualities is not qualities, which is free from attachment, which is living alone, which does not recognise distinctions, and which is full of Brahman, is the source of all happiness.[118] The learned man who absorbs all desires into himself from all sides like the tortoise withdrawing all its limbs, who is devoid of passion, and who is released from everything, becomes always happy. Restraining all desires within the soul, destroying his thirst, concentrated in meditation, and becoming the friend of good heart towards all creatures, he succeeds in becoming fit for assimilation with Brahman. Through repression of all the senses which always hanker after their objects, and abandonment of inhabited places, the Adhyatma fire blazes forth in the man of contemplation. As a fire, fed with fuel, becomes bright in consequence of the blazing flames it puts forth, even so, in consequence of the repression of the senses, the great soul puts forth its effulgence. When one with a tranquil soul beholds all entities in one's own heart, then, lighted by one's own effulgence, one attains to that which is subtler than the subtle and which is unrivalled in excellence. It is settled that the body has fire for colour, water for blood and other liquids, wind for sense of touch, earth for the hideous holder of mind (viz., flesh and bones, etc.), space (or ether) for sound; that it is pervaded by disease and sorrow; that it is overwhelmed by five currents; that it is made up of the five elements; that it has nine doors and two deities;[119] that it is full of passion; that it is unfit to be seen (owing to its unholy character); that it is made up of three qualities; that it has three constituent elements, (viz., wind, bile and phlegm); that it is delighted with attachments of every kind, that it is full of delusions.[120] It is difficult of being moved in this mortal world, and it rests on the understanding as its support. That body is, in this world, the wheel of Time that is continually revolving.[121] That (body), indeed, is a terrible and unfathomable ocean and is called delusion. It is this body which stretches forth, contracts, and awakens the (whole) universe with the (very) immortals.[122] By restraining the senses, one casts off lust, wrath, fear, cupidity, enmity, and falsehood, which are eternal and, therefore, exceedingly difficult to cast off.[123] He who has subjugated these in this world, viz., the three qualities and the five constituent elements of the body, has the Highest for his seat in Heaven. By him is Infinity attained. Crossing the river, that has the five senses for its steep banks, the mental inclinations for its mighty waters, and delusion for its lake, one should subjugate both lust and wrath. Such a man freed from all faults, then beholds the Highest, concentrating the mind within the mind and seeing self in self. Understanding all things, he sees his self, with self, in all creatures, sometimes as one and sometimes as diverse, changing form from time to time.[124] Without doubt he can perceive numerous bodies like a hundred lights from one light. Verily he is Vishnu, and Mitra, and Varuna, and Agni, and Prajapati. He is the Creator and the ordainer: he is the Lord possessed of puissance, with faces turned in all directions. In him, the heart of all creatures, the great soul, becomes resplendent. Him all conclaves of learned Brahmanas, deities and Asuras, and Yakshas, and Pisachas, the Pitris, and birds, and bands of Rakshasas, and bands of ghostly beings, and all the great Rishis, praise."'"'" SECTION XLIII "'"Brahma said, "Among men, the royal Kshatriya is (endued with) the middle quality. Among vehicles, the elephant (is so); and among denizens of the forest the lion; among all (sacrificial) animals, the sheep; among all those that live in holes, is the snake; among cattle, the bovine bull; among females, the mule.[125] There is no doubt in this that in this world, the Nyagrodha, the Jamvu, the Pippala, the Salmali, and Sinsapa, the Meshasringa, and the Kichaka, are the foremost ones among trees.[126] Himavat, Patipatra, Sahya, Vindhya, Trikutavat, Sweta, Nila, Bhasa, Koshthavat, Guruskandha, Mahendra and Malayavat,--these are the foremost of mountains. Likewise the Maruts are the foremost of the Ganas. Surya is the lord of all the planets, and Chandramas of all the constellations. Yama is the lord of the Pitris; Ocean is the lord of all rivers. Varuna is the king of the waters. Indra is said to be the king of the Maruts. Arka is the king of all hot bodies, and Indra of all luminous bodies. Agni is the eternal lord of the elements, and Vrihaspati of the Brahmanas. Soma is the lord of (deciduous) herbs, and Vishnu is the foremost of all that are endued with might. Tashtri is the king of Rudras, and Siva of all creatures. Sacrifice is the foremost of all initiatory rites, and Maghavat of the deities. The North is the lord of all the points of the compass; Soma of great energy is the lord of all learned Brahmanas. Kuvera is the lord of all precious gems, and Purandara of all the deities. Such is the highest creation among all entities. Prajapati is the lord of all creatures. Of all entities whatever, I, who am full of Brahman, am the foremost. There is no entity that is higher than myself or Vishnu. The great Vishnu, who is full of Brahman, is the king of kings over all. Know him to be the ruler, the creator, the uncreated Hari. He is the ruler of men and Kinnaras and Yakshas and Gandharvas, and Snakes and Rakshasas, and deities and Danavas and Nagas. Among those that are followed by persons full of desire is the great goddess Maheswari of beautiful eyes. She is otherwise called by the name of Parvati. Know that the goddess Uma is the foremost and the most auspicious of women. Among women that are a source of pleasure, the foremost are the Apsaras who are possessed of great splendour.[127] Kings are desirous of acquiring piety, and Brahmanas are causeways of piety. Therefore, the king should always strive to protect the twice-born ones. Those kings in whose dominions good men languish are regarded as bereft of the virtues of their order. Hereafter they have to go into wrong paths. Those kings in whose dominions good men are protected, rejoice in this world and enjoy happiness hereafter. Verily, those high-souled ones attain to the highest seat. Understand this, ye foremost of regenerate ones. I shall after this state the everlasting indications of duties. Abstention from injury is the highest duty. Injury is an indication of unrighteousness. Splendour is the indication of the deities. Men have acts for their indications. Ether (or space) has sound for its characteristic. Wind has touch for its characteristic. The characteristic of lighted bodies is colour, and water has taste for its characteristic. Earth, which holds all entities, has smell for its characteristic. Speech has words for its characteristic, refined into vowels and consonants. Mind has thought for its characteristic. Thought has, again, been said to be the characteristic of the understanding. The things thought of by the mind are ascertained with accuracy by the understanding. There is no doubt in this, viz., that the understanding, by perseverance, perceives all things. The characteristic of mind is meditation. The characteristic of the good man is to live unperceived.[128] Devotion has acts for its characteristic. Knowledge is the characteristic of renunciation. Therefore keeping knowledge before his view, the man of understanding should practise renunciation. The man who has betaken himself to renunciation and who is possessed of knowledge, who transcends all pairs of opposites, as also darkness, death, and decrepitude, attains to the highest goal. I have thus declared to you duly what the indications are of duty. I shall, after this, tell you of the seizure (comprehension) of qualities. Smell, which appertains to earth, is seized by the nose. The wind, that dwells in the nose is likewise appointed (as an agent) in the perception of smell. Taste is the essence of water. That is seized by the tongue. Soma, who resides in the tongue, is appointed likewise in the perception of taste. The quality of a lighted body is colour. That is seized by the eye. Aditya who always resides in the eye has been appointed in the perception of colour. Touch always appertains to the wind (as its quality). That is perceived by the skin. The wind that always resides in the skin has been appointed in apprehending touch. The quality of ether is sound. That is seized by the ear. All the quarters, which reside in the ear, have been appointed in apprehending sound. The quality of the mind is thought. That is seized by the understanding. The upholder of consciousness, residing in the heart, has been appointed in apprehending the mind. The understanding is apprehended in the form of determination or certitude, and Mahat in the form of knowledge. The unperceived (Prakriti) has been, it is evident, appointed for the seizure of all things after certitude. There is no doubt in this.[129] The Kshetrajna which is eternal and is destitute of qualities as regards its essence, is incapable of being seized by symbols. Hence, the characteristic of the Kshetrajna, which is without symbols, is purely knowledge. The unmanifest resides in the symbol called Kshetra, and is that in which the qualities are produced and absorbed. I always see, know, and hear it (though) it is hidden. Purusha knows it: therefore is he called Kshetrajna. The Kshetrajna perceives also the operations of the qualities and absence of their operations. The qualities, which are created repeatedly, do not know themselves, being unintelligent, as entities to be created and endued with a beginning, middle, and end. No one else attains, only the Kshetrajna attains, to that which is the highest and great and which transcend the qualities and those entities which are born of the qualities. Hence one who understands duties, casting off qualities and the understanding, and having his sins destroyed, and transcending the qualities, enters the Kshetrajna. One that is free from all pairs of opposites, that never bends his head to any one, that is divested of Swaha, that is immovable, and homeless, is the Kshetrajna. He is the Supreme Lord."'"'" SECTION XLIV "'"'Brahma said, "I shall now tell you truly about all that which has a beginning, middle, and end, and which is endued with name and characteristics, together with the means of apprehension. It has been said that the Day was first. Then arose Night. The Months are said to have the lighted fortnights first. The constellations have Sravana for their first; the Seasons have that of dews (viz., Winter) for their first. Earth is the source of all smells; and Water of all tastes. The solar light is the source of all colours; the Wind of all sensations of touch. Likewise, of sound the source is space (or Ether). These are the qualities of elements. I shall, after this, declare that which is the first and the highest of all entities. The sun is the first of all lighted bodies. Fire is said to be the first of all the elements. Savitri is the first of all branches of learning. Prajapati is the first of all the deities. The syllable Om is the first of all the Vedas, and the life-wind Prana is the first of all winds. All that is called Savitri which is prescribed in this world.[130] The Gayatri is the first of all metres; of all (sacrificial) animals the first is the goat. Kine are the first of all quadrupeds. The twiceborn ones are the first of all human beings. The hawk is the first of all birds. Of sacrifices the first is the pouring of clarified butter on the fire. Of all reptiles the first, O foremost of regenerate ones, is the snake. The Krita is the first of all the Yugas; there is no doubt in this. Gold is the first of all precious things. Barley is the first of all plants. Food is the first of all things to be eaten or swallowed. Of all liquid substances to be drunk, water is the foremost. Of all immobile entities without distinction, Plaksha is said to be the first, that ever holy field of Brahman. Of all the Prajapatis I am the first. There is no doubt in this. Of inconceivable soul, the self-existent Vishnu is said to be my superior.[131] Of all the mountains the great Meru is said to be the first-born. Of all the cardinal and subsidiary points of the horizon, the eastern is said to be the foremost and first-born. Ganga of three courses is said to be the firstborn of all rivers. Likewise, of all wells and reservoirs of waters, the ocean is said to be the first-born. Iswara is the supreme Lord of all the deities and Danavas and ghostly beings and Pisachas, and snakes and Makshasas and human beings and Kinnaras and Yakshas. The great Vishnu, who is full of Brahma, than whom there is no higher being in the three worlds, is the first of all the universe. Of all the modes of life, that of the householder is the first. Of this there is no doubt. The Unmanifest is the source of all the worlds as, indeed, that is the end of every thing. Days end with the sun's setting and Nights with the sun's rising. The end of pleasure is always sorrow, and the end of sorrow is always pleasure. All accumulations have exhaustion for their end, and all ascent have falls for their end. All associations have dissociations for their end, and life has death for its end. All action ends in destruction, and all that is born is certain to meet with death. Every mobile and immobile thing in this world is transient. Sacrifice, gift, penances, study, vows, observances,--all these have destruction for their end. Of Knowledge, there is no end. Hence, one that is possessed of a tranquil soul, that has subjugated his senses, that is freed from the sense of meum, that is devoid of egoism, is released from all sins by pure knowledge."'"'" SECTION XLV "'"'Brahma said, "The wheel of life moves on. It has the understanding for its strength; the mind for the pole (on which it rests); the group of senses for its bonds, the (five) great elements for its nave, and home for its circumference.[132] It is overwhelmed by decrepitude and grief, and it has diseases and calamities for its progeny. That wheel relates in time and place. It has toil and exercise for its noise. Day and Night are the rotations of that wheel. It is encircled by heat and cold. Pleasure and pain fire its joints, and hunger and thirst are the nails fixed into it. Sun-shine and shade are the ruts (it causes). It is capable of being agitated during even such a short space of time as is taken up by the opening and the closing of the eyelid. It is enveloped in the terrible waters of delusion. It is ever revolving and void of consciousness. It is measured by months and half-months. It is not uniform (being ever-changing), and moves through all the worlds. Penances and vows are its mud. Passion's force is its mover. It is illuminated by the great egoism, and is sustained by the qualities. Vexations (caused by the non-acquisition of what is desired) are the fastenings that bind it around. It revolves in the midst of grief and destruction. It is endued with actions and the instruments of action. It is large and is extended by attachments. It is rendered unsteady by cupidity and desire. It is produced by variegated Ignorance. It is attended upon by fear and delusion, and is the cause of the delusion of all beings. It moves towards joy and pleasure, and has desire and wrath for its possession. It is made up of entities beginning with Mahat and ending with the gross elements. It is characterised by production and destruction going on ceaselessly. Its speed is like that of the mind, and it has the mind for its boundary.[133] This wheel of life that is associated with pairs of opposites and devoid of consciousness, the universe with the very immortals should cast away, abridge, and check. That man who always understands accurately the motion and stoppage of this wheel of life, is never seen to be deluded, among all creatures. Freed from all impressions, divested of all pairs of opposites, released from all sins, he attains to the highest goal. The householder, the Brahmacharin, the forest recluse and the mendicant,--these four modes of life have all been said to have the householder's mode for their foundation. Whatever system of rules is prescribed in this world, their observance is beneficial. Such observance has always been highly spoken of. He who has been first cleansed by ceremonies, who has duly observed vows, who belongs in respect of birth to a race possessed of high qualifications, and who understands the Vedas, should return (from his preceptor's house).[134] Always devoted to his wedded spouse, conducting himself after the manner of the good, with his senses under subjugation, and full of faith, one should in this world perform the five sacrifices. He who eats what remains after feeding deities and guests, who is devoted to the observance of Vedic rites, who duly performs according to his means sacrifices and gifts, who is not unduly active with his hands and feet, who is not unduly active with his eye, who is devoted to penances, who is not unduly active with his speech and limits, comes under the category of Sishta or the good. One should always bear the sacred thread, wear white (clean) clothes, observe pure vows, and should always associate with good men, making gifts and practising self-restraint. One should subjugate one's lust and stomach, practise universal compassion, and be characterised by behaviour that befits the good. One should bear a bamboo-stick, and a water-pot filled with water. Having studied, one should teach; likewise should also make sacrifices himself and officiate at the sacrifices of others. One should also make gifts made to oneself. Verily, one's conduct, should be characterised by these six acts. Know that three of these acts should constitute the livelihood of the Brahmanas, viz., teaching (pupils), officiating at the sacrifices of others, and the acceptance of gifts from a person that is pure. As to the other duties that remain, numbering three, viz., making of gifts, study, and sacrifice, these are accompanied by merit.[135] Observant of penances, self-restrained, practising universal compassion and forgiveness, and looking upon all creatures with an equal eye, the man that is conversant with duties should never be heedless with regard to those three acts. The learned Brahmana of pure heart, who observes the domestic mode of life and practises rigid vows, thus devoted and thus discharging all duties to the best of his power, succeeds in conquering Heaven."'"'" SECTION XLVI "'"'Brahma said, "Duly studying thus to the best of his power, in the way described above, and likewise living as a Brahmacharin, one that is devoted to the duties of one's own order, possessed of learning, observant of penances, and with all the senses under restraint, devoted to what is agreeable and beneficial to the preceptor, steady in practising the duty of truth, and always pure, should, with the permission of the preceptor, eat one's food without decrying it. He should eat Havishya made from what is obtained in alms, and should stand, sit, and take exercise (as directed).[136] He should pour libations on the fire twice a day, having purified himself and with concentrated mind. He should always bear a staff made of Vilwa or Palasa.[137] The robes of the regenerate man should be linen, or of cotton, or deer-skin, or a cloth that is entirely brown-red. There should also be a girdle made of Munja-grass. He should bear matted locks on head, and should perform his ablutions every day. He should bear the sacred thread, study the scriptures, divest himself of cupidity, and be steady in the observance of vows. He should also gratify the deities with oblations of pure water, his mind being restrained the while. Such a Brahmacharin is worthy of applause. With vital seed drawn up and mind concentrated, one that is thus devoted succeeds in conquering Heaven. Having attained to the highest seat, he has not to return to birth. Cleansed by all purificatory rites and having lived as a Brahmacharin, one should next go out of one's village and next live as an ascetic in the woods, having renounced (all attachments). Clad in animal skins or barks of trees he should perform his ablutions morning and evening. Always living within the forest, he should never return to an inhabited place. Honouring guests when they come, he should give them shelter, and himself subsist upon fruits and leaves and common roots, and Syamaka. He should, without being slothful subsist on such water as he gets, and air, and all forest products. He should live upon these, in due order, according to the regulations of his initiation.[138] He should honour the guest that comes to him with alms of fruits and roots. He should then, without sloth, always give whatever other food he may have. Restraining speech the while, he should eat after gratifying deities and guests. His mind should be free from envy. He should eat little, and depend always on the deities. Self-restrained, practising universal compassion, and possessed of forgiveness, he should wear both beard and hair (without submitting to the operations of the barber). Performing sacrifices and devoting himself to the study of the scriptures, he should be steady in the observance of the duty of truth. With body always in a state of purity, endued with cleverness, ever dwelling in the forest, with concentrated mind, and senses in subjection, a forest-recluse, thus devoting himself, would conquer Heaven. A householder, or Brahmacharin, or forest-recluse, who would wish to achieve Emancipation, should have recourse to that which has been called the best course of conduct. Having granted unto all creatures the pledge of utter abstention from harm, he should thoroughly renounce all action. He should contribute to the happiness of all creatures, practise universal friendliness, subjugate all his senses, and be an ascetic. Subsisting upon food obtained without asking and without trouble, and that has come to him spontaneously, he should make a fire. He should make his round of mendicancy in a place whence smoke has ceased to curl up and where all the inhabitants have already eaten.[139] The person who is conversant with the conduct that leads to Emancipation should seek for alms after the vessels (used in cooking) have been washed. He should never rejoice when he obtains anything, and never be depressed if he obtains nothing. Seeking just what is needed for supporting life, he should, with concentrated mind, go about his round of mendicancy, waiting for the proper time. He should not wish for earnings in common with others, nor eat when honoured. The man who leads the life of mendicancy should conceal himself for avoiding gifts with honour. While eating, he should not eat such food as forms the remains of another's dish, nor such as is bitter, or astringent, or pungent. He should not also eat such kinds of food as have a sweet taste. He should eat only so much as is needed to keep him alive. The person conversant with Emancipation should obtain his subsistence without obstructing any creature. In his rounds of mendicancy he should never follow another (bent on the same purpose). He should never parade his piety; he should move about in a secluded place, freed from passion. Either an empty house, or a forest, or the foot of some tree, or a river, or a mountain-cave, he should have recourse to for shelter. In summer he should pass only one night in an inhabited place; in the season of rains he may live in one place. He should move about the world like a worm, his path pointed out by the Sun. From compassion for creatures, he should walk on the Earth with his eyes directed towards it. He should never make any accumulations and should avoid residence with friends. The man conversant with Emancipation should every day do all his acts with pure water. Such a man should always perform his ablutions with water that has been fetched up (from the river or the tank).[140] Abstention from harm, Brahmacharyya, truth, simplicity, freedom from wrath, freedom from decrying others, self-restraint, and habitual freedom from backbiting: these eight vows, with senses restrained, he should steadily pursue. He should always practise a sinless mode of conduct, that is not deceptive and not crooked. Freed from attachment, he should always make one who comes as a guest eat (at least) a morsel of food. He should eat just enough for livelihood, for the support of life. He should eat only such food as has been obtained by righteous means, and should not pursue the dictates of desire. He should never accept any other thing than food and clothing only. He should, again, accept only as much as he can eat and nothing more. He should not be induced to accept gifts from others, nor should he make gifts to others. Owing to the helplessness of creatures, the man of wisdom should always share with others. He should not appropriate what belongs to others, nor should he take anything without being asked. He should not, having enjoyed anything become so attached to it as to desire to have it once more. One should take only earth and water and pebbles and leaves and flowers and fruits, that are not owned by any body, as they come, when one desires to do any act. One should not live by the occupation of an artisan, nor should one covet gold. One should not hate, nor teach (one that does not seek to be taught); nor should one have any belongings. One should eat only what is consecrated by faith. One should abstain from controversies. One should follow that course of conduct which has been said to be nectarine. One should never be attached to anything, and should never enter into relations of intimacy with any creature. One should not perform, nor cause to perform, any such action as involves expectation of fruit or destruction of life or the hoarding of wealth or articles. Rejecting all objects, content with a very little, one should wander about (homeless) pursuing an equal behaviour towards all creatures mobile and immobile. One should never annoy another being; not should one be annoyed with another. He who is trusted by all creatures is regarded as the foremost of those persons that understand Emancipation. One should not think of the past, nor feel anxious about the future. One should disregard the present, biding time, with concentrated mind.[141] One should never defile anything by eye, mind, or speech. Nor should one do anything that is wrong, openly or in secret. Withdrawing one's senses like the tortoise withdrawing its limbs, one should attenuate one's senses and mind, cultivate a thoroughly peaceful understanding, and seek to master every topic. Freed from all pairs of opposites, never bending one's head in reverence, abstaining from the rites requiring the utterance of Swaha, one should be free from mineness, and egoism. With cleansed soul, one should never seek to acquire what one has not and protect what one has. Free from expectations, divested of qualities, wedded to tranquillity, one should be free from all attachments and should depend on none. Attached to one's own self and comprehending all topics, one becomes emancipated without doubt. Those who perceive the self, which is without hands and feet and back, which is without head and without stomach, which is free from the operation of all qualities, which is absolute, untainted, and stable, which is without smell, without taste, and touch, without colour, and without sound, which is to be comprehended (by close study), which is unattached, which is without flesh, which is free from anxiety, unfading, and divine, and, lastly, which though dwelling in a house resides in all creatures, succeed in escaping death. There the understanding reaches not, nor the senses, nor the deities, nor the Vedas, nor sacrifices, nor the regions (of superior bliss), nor penance, nor vows. The attainment to it by those who are possessed of knowledge is said to be without comprehension of symbols. Hence, the man who knows the properties of that which is destitute of symbols, should practise the truths of piety.[142] The learned man, betaking himself to a life of domesticity, should adopt that conduct which is conformable to true knowledge. Though undeluded, he should practise piety after the manner of one that is deluded, without finding fault with it. Without finding fault with the practices of the good, he should himself adopt such a conduct for practising piety as may induce others to always disrespect him. That man who is endued with such a conduct is said to be the foremost of ascetics. The senses, the objects of the senses, the (five) great elements, mind, understanding, egoism, the unmanifest, Purusha also, after comprehending these duly with the aid of correct inferences, one attains to Heaven, released from all bonds. One conversant with the truth, understanding these at the time of the termination of his life, should meditate, exclusively resting on one point. Then, depending on none, one attains to Emancipation. Freed from all attachments, like the wind in space, with his accumulations exhausted, without distress of any kind, he attains to his highest goal."'"'" SECTION XLVII "'"'Brahma said, "The ancients who were utterers of certain truth, say that Renunciation is penance. Brahmanas, dwelling in that which has Brahman for its origin, understand Knowledge to be high Brahman.[143] Brahman is very far off, and its attainments depends upon a knowledge of the Vedas. It is free from all pairs of opposites, it is divested of all qualities; it is eternal; it is endued with unthinkable qualities: it is supreme. It is by knowledge and penance that those endued with wisdom behold that which is the highest. Verily, they that are of untainted minds, that are cleansed of every sin, and that have transcended all passion and darkness (succeed in beholding it). They who are always devoted to renunciation, and who are conversant with the Vedas, succeed in attaining to the supreme Lord who is identical with the path of happiness and peace, by the aid of penance. Penance, it has been said, is light. Conduct leads to piety. Knowledge is said to be the highest. Renunciation is the best penance. He who understands self through accurate determination of all topics, which is unperturbed, which is identical with Knowledge, and which resides in all entities, succeeds in going everywhere. The learned man who beholds association, and dissociation, and unity in diversity, is released from misery. He who never desires for anything, who despises nothing, becomes eligible, even when dwelling in this world, for assimilation with Brahman. He who is conversant with the truths about qualities of Pradhana, and understands the Pradhana as existing in all entities who is free from mineness and egoism, without doubt becomes emancipated. He who is freed from all pairs of opposites, who does not bend his head to any body, who has transcended the rites of Swadha, succeeds by the aid of tranquillity alone in attaining to that which is free from pairs of opposites, which is eternal, and which is divested of qualities. Abandoning all action, good or bad, developed from qualities, and casting off both truth and falsehood, a creature, without doubt, becomes emancipated. Having the unmanifest for the seed of its origin, with the understanding for its trunk, with the great principle of egoism for its assemblage of boughs, with the senses for the cavities of its little sprouts, with the (five) great elements for its large branches, the objects of the senses for its smaller branches, with leaves that are ever present, with flowers that always adorn it and with fruits both agreeable and disagreeable always produced, is the eternal tree of Brahman which forms the support of all creatures. Cutting and piercing that tree with knowledge of truth as the sword, the man of wisdom, abandoning the bonds which are made of attachment and which cause birth, decrepitude and death, and freeing himself from mineness and egoism, without doubt, becomes emancipated. These are the two birds, which are immutable, which are friends, and which should be known as unintelligent. That other who is different from these two is called the Intelligent. When the inner self, which is destitute of knowledge of nature, which is (as it were) unintelligent, becomes conversant with that which is above nature, then, understanding the Kshetra, and endued with an intelligence that transcends all qualities and apprehends everything, one becomes released from all sins."'"'" SECTION XLVIII "'"'Brahma said, "Some regard Brahman as a tree. Some regard Brahman as a great forest. Some regard Brahman as unmanifest. Some regard it as transcendant and freed from every distress. They think that all this is produced from and absorbed into the unmanifest. He who, even for the short space of time that is taken by a single breath, when his end comes, becomes equable, attaining to the self, fits himself for immortality. Restraining the self in the self, even for the space of a wink, one goes, through the tranquillity of the self, to that which constitutes the inexhaustible acquisition of those that are endued with knowledge. Restraining the life-breaths again and again by controlling them according to the method called Pranayama, by the ten or the twelve, he attains to that which is beyond the four and twenty. Thus having first acquired a tranquil soul, one attains to the fruition of all one's wishes.[144] When the quality of Goodness predominates in that which arises from the Unmanifest, it becomes fit for immortality. They who are conversant with Goodness applaud it highly, saying that there is nothing higher than Goodness. By inference we know that Purusha is dependent on Goodness. Ye best of regenerate ones, it is impossible to attain to Purusha by any other means. Forgiveness, courage, abstention from harm, equability, truth, sincerity, knowledge, gift, and renunciation, are said to be the characteristics of that course of conduct which arises out of Goodness. It is by this inference that the wise believe in the identity of Purusha and Goodness, There is no doubt in this. Some learned men that are devoted to knowledge assert the unity of Kshetrajna and Nature. This, however, is not correct. It is said that Nature is different from Purusha: that also will imply a want to consideration. Truly, distinction and association should be known (as applying to Purusha and Nature). Unity and diversity are likewise laid down. That is the doctrine of the learned. In the Gnat and Udumbara both unity and diversity are seen. As a fish in water is different from it, such is the relation of the two (viz., Purusha and Nature). Verily, their relation is like that of water drops on the leaf of the lotus."' "'"The preceptor continued, 'Thus addressed, those learned Brahmanas, who were the foremost of men, felt some doubts and (therefore) they once more questioned the Grandsire (of all creatures).'"'"[145] SECTION XLIX "'"'The Rishis said,--"Which among the duties is deemed to be the most worthy of being performed? The diverse modes of duty, we see, are contradictory. Some say that (it remains) after the body (is destroyed). Others say that it does not exist. Some say that everything is doubtful. Others have no doubts.[146] Some say that the eternal (principle) is not eternal. Some say that it exists, and some that it exists not. Some say it is of one form, or two-fold, and others that it is mixed. Some Brahmanas who are conversant with Brahman and utterers of truth regard it to be one. Others, that it is distinct; and others again that it is manifold. Some say that both time and space exist; others, that it is not so. Some bear matted locks on their heads and are clad in deer-skins. Others have shaven crowns and go entirely naked. Some are for entire abstention from bathing, and some for bathing. Such differences of views may be seen among deities and Brahmanas conversant with Brahman and endued with perceptions of truth. Some are for taking food; while some are devoted to fasts. Some applaud action; others applaud perfect tranquillity. Some applaud Emancipation; some, various kinds of enjoyments. Some desire diverse kinds of wealth; some, poverty. Some say that means should be resorted to; others, that this is not so. Some are devoted to a life of abstention from harm; others are addicted to destruction. Some are for merit and glory, others say that this is not so. Some are devoted to goodness; others are established on doubt. Some are for pleasure; some are for pain. Other people say that it is meditation. Other learned Brahmanas say that it is Sacrifice. Others, again, say that it is gift. Others applaud penances; others, the study of the scriptures. Some say that knowledge and renunciation (should be followed). Others who ponder on the elements say that it is Nature. Some extol everything; others, nothing. O foremost one of the deities, duty being thus confused and full of contradictions of various kinds, we are deluded and unable to come to any conclusion. People stand up for acting, saying,--This is good,--This is good--He that is attached to a certain duty applauds that duty as the best. For this reason our understanding breaks down and our mind is distracted. We therefore, wish, O best of all beings, to know what is good. It behoves thee to declare to us, after this, what is (so) mysterious, and what is the cause of the connection between the Kshetrajna and Nature." Thus addressed by those learned Brahmanas, the illustrious creator of the worlds, endued with great intelligence and possessed of a righteous soul, declared to them accurately what they asked.'"'" SECTION L "'"'Brahma said, "Well then, I shall declare to you what you ask. Learn what was told by a preceptor to a disciple that came unto him. Hearing it all, do you settle properly (what it should be). Abstention from harming any creature is regarded as the foremost of all duties. That is the highest feat, free from anxiety and constituting an indication of holiness. The ancients who were beholders of the certain truth, have said that knowledge is the highest happiness. Hence, one becomes released of all sins by pure knowledge. They that are engaged in destruction and harm, they that are infidels in conduct, have to go to Hell in consequence of their being endued with cupidity and delusion. Those who, without procrastination, perform acts, impelled thereto by expectation become repeatedly born in this world and sport in joy. Those men who, endued with learning and wisdom, perform acts with faith, free from expectations, and possessed of concentration of mind, are said to perceive clearly. I shall, after this, declare how the association and the dissociation takes place of Kshetrajna and Nature. Ye best of men, listen. The relation here is said to be that between the object and the subject.[147] Purusha is always the subject; and Nature has been said to be the object. It has been explained, by what has been said in a previous portion of the discourse where it has been pointed out, that they exist after the manner of the Gnat and the Udumbara. An object of enjoyment as it is, Nature is unintelligent and knows nothing. He, however, who enjoys it, is said to know it. Kshetrajna being enjoyer, Nature is enjoyed. The wise have said that Nature is always made up of pairs of opposites (and consists of qualities). Kshetrajna is, on the other hand, destitute of pairs of opposites, devoid of parts, eternal, and free, as regards its essence, from qualities. He resides in everything alike, and walks with knowledge. He always enjoys Nature, as a lotus leaf (enjoys) water. Possessed of knowledge, he is never tainted even if brought into contact with all the qualities. Without doubt, Purusha is unattached like the unsteady drop of water on the lotus-leaf. This is the certain conclusion (of the scriptures) that Nature is the property of Purusha. The relation between these two (viz., Purusha and Nature) is like that existing between matter and its maker. As one goes into a dark place taking a light with him, even so those who wish for the Supreme proceed with the light of Nature.[148] As long as matter and quality (which are like oil and wick) exist, so long the light shines. The flame, however, becomes extinguished when matter and quality (or oil and wick) are exhausted. Thus Nature is manifest; while Purusha is said to be unmanifest. Understand this, ye learned Brahmanas. Well, I shall now tell you something more. With even a thousand (explanations), one that has a bad understanding succeeds not in acquiring knowledge. One, however, that is endued with intelligence succeeds in attaining happiness, through only a fourth share (of explanations). Thus should the accomplishment of duty be understood as dependent on means. For the man of intelligence, having knowledge of means, succeeds in attaining to supreme felicity. As some man travelling along a road without provisions for his journey, proceeds with great discomfort and may even meet with destruction before he reaches the end of his journey, even so should it be known that ill acts there may not be fruits.[149] The examination of what is agreeable and what is disagreeable in one's own self is productive of benefit.[150] The progress in life of a man that is devoid of the perception of truth is like that of a man who rashly journeys on a long road unseen before. The progress, however, of those that are endued with intelligence is like that of men who journey along the same road, riding on a car unto which are yoked (fleet) steeds and which moves with swiftness. Having ascended to the top of a mountain, one should not cast one's eyes on the surface of the earth.[151] Seeing a man, even though travelling on a car, afflicted and rendered insensible by pain, the man of intelligence journeys on a car as long as there is a car path.[152] The man of learning, when he sees the car path end, abandons his car for going on. Even thus proceeds the man of intelligence who is conversant with the ordinances respecting truth and Yoga (or Knowledge and Devotion). Conversant with the qualities, such a man proceeds, comprehending what is next and next.[153] As one that plunges, without a boat, into the terrible ocean, with only one's two arms, through delusion, undoubtedly wishes for destruction; while the man of wisdom, conversant with distinctions, goes into the water, with a boat equipt with oars, and soon crosses the lake without fatigue, and having crossed it attains to the other shore and casts off the boat, freed from the thought of meum. This has been already explained by the illustration of the car and the pedestrian. One who has been overwhelmed by delusion in consequence of attachment, adheres to it like a fisherman to his boat. Overcome by the idea of meum, one wanders within its narrow range. After embarking on a boat it is not possible in moving about on land. Similarly, it is not possible in moving about on water after one has mounted on a car. There are thus various actions with regard to various objects. And as action is performed in this world, so does it result to those that perform them. That which is void of smell, void of taste, and void of touch and sound, that which is meditated upon by the sages with the aid of their understanding, is said to be Pradhana. Now, Pradhana is unmanifest. A development of the unmanifest is Mahat. A development of Pradhana when it has become Mahat is Egoism. From egoism is produced the development called the great elements. And of the great elements respectively, the objects of sense are said to be the developments. The unmanifest is of the nature of seed. It is productive in its essence. It has been heard by us that the great soul has the virtues of a seed, and that is a product. Egoism is of the nature of seed and is a product again and again. And the five great elements are of the nature of seed and products. The objects of the five great elements are endued with the nature of seed, and yield products. These have Chitta for their property. Among them, space has one quality; wind is said to have two. Light, it is said, is endued with three qualities; and water as possessed of four qualities. Earth, teeming with mobiles and immobiles, should be known as possessed of five qualities. She is a goddess that is the source of all entities and abounds with examples of the agreeable and the disagreeable. Sound, likewise touch, colour, taste, and smell numbering the fifth,--these are the five qualities of earth, ye foremost of regenerate persons. Smell always belongs to earth, and smell is said to be of various kinds. I shall state at length the numerous qualities of smell. Smell is agreeable or disagreeable, sweet, sour, pungent, diffusive and compact, oily and dry, and clear. Thus smell, which belongs to the earth, should be known as of ten kinds.[154] Sound, touch, likewise colour, and taste have been said to be the qualities of water. I shall now speak of the qualities of taste. Taste has been said to be of various kinds. Sweet, sour, pungent, bitter, astringent, and saline likewise. Taste, which has been said to appertain to water, is thus of six varieties. Sound, touch, and likewise colour,--these are the three qualities which light is said to be possessed of. Colour is the quality of light, and colour is said to be of various kinds. White, dark, likewise red, blue, yellow, and grey also, and short, long, minute, gross, square and circular, of these twelve varieties in colour which belongs to light. These should be understood by Brahmanas venerable for years, conversant with duties, and truthful in speech. Sound and touch should be known as the two qualities of wind. Touch has been said to be of various kinds. Rough, cold and likewise hot, tender and clear, hard, oily, smooth, slippery, painful and soft, of twelve kinds is touch, which is the quality of wind, as said by Brahmanas crowned with success, conversant with duties, and possessed of a sight of truth. Now space has only one quality, and that is said to be sound. I shall speak at length of the numerous qualities of sound. Shadaja, Rishabha, together with Gandhara, Madhyama, and likewise Panchama; after this should be known Nishada, and then Dhaivata.[155] Besides these, there are agreeable sounds and disagreeable sounds, compact, and of many ingredients. Sound which is born of space should thus be known to be of ten kinds. Space is the highest of the (five) elements. Egoism is above it. Above egoism is understanding. Above understanding is the soul. Above the soul is the Unmanifest. Above the Unmanifest is Purusha. One who knows which is superior and inferior among existent creatures, who is conversant with the ordinances in respect of all acts, and who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures, attains to the Unfading Soul."'"'" SECTION LI "'"'Brahma said, "Since the mind is the ruler of these five elements, in the matter of controlling and bringing them forth, the mind, therefore, is the soul of the elements. The mind always presides over the great elements. The understanding proclaims power, and is called the Kshetrajna.[156] The mind yokes the senses as a charioteer yokes good steeds. The senses, the mind, and the understanding are always joined to the Kshetrajna. The individual soul, mounting the chariot to which big steeds are yoked and which has the understanding for the reins, drives about on all sides. With all the senses attached to it (for steeds), with the mind for the charioteer, and the understanding for the eternal reins, exists the great Brahman-car. Verily, that man endued with learning and wisdom who always understands the Brahman-car in this way, is never overwhelmed by delusion in the midst of all entities. This forest of Brahman begins with the Unmanifest and ends with gross objects. It includes mobile and immobile entities, and receives light from the radiance of the sun and the moon, and is adorned with planets and constellations. It is decked, again, on all sides with nets of rivers and mountains. It is always embellished likewise by diverse kinds of waters. It is the means of subsistence for all creatures. It is, again, the goal of all living creatures. In that forest the Kshetrajna always moves about. Whatever entities exist in this world, mobile and immobile, are the very first to be dissolved away. After this (are dissolved) those qualities which compose all entities. After the qualities (are dissolved) the five elements. Such is the gradation of entities. Gods, men, Gandharvas, Pisachas, Asuras, and Rakshasas, have all sprung from Nature, and not from actions, not from a cause. The Brahmanas, who are creators of the universe, are born here again and again. All that springs from them dissolves, when the time comes, in those very five great elements like billows in the ocean. All the great elements are beyond those elements that compose the universe. He that is released from those five elements goes to the highest goal. The puissant Prajapati created all this by the mind only. After the same manner Rishis attained to the status of deities by the aid of penance. After the same manner, those who have achieved perfection, who were capable of the concentration of Yoga, and who subsist on fruits and roots, likewise perceive the triple world by penance. Medicines and herbs and all the diverse sciences are acquired by means of penance alone, for all acquisition has penance for its root. Whatever is difficult of acquisition, difficult to learn, difficult to vanquish, difficult to pass through, are all achievable by penance, for penance is irresistible. One that drinks alcoholic liquors, one that slays a Brahmana, one that steals, one that destroys a foetus, one that violates one's preceptor's bed, becomes cleansed of such sin by penance well performed. Human beings, Pitris, deities, (sacrificial) animals, beasts and birds, and all other creatures mobile and immobile, by always devoting themselves to penances, become crowned with success by penance alone. In like manner, the deities, endued with great powers of illusion, have attained to Heaven. Those who without idleness perform acts with expectations, being full of egoism, approach the presence of Prajapati. Those high-souled ones, however, who are devoid of mineness and freed from egoism through the pure contemplation of Yoga, attain to the great and highest regions. Those who best understand the self, having attained to Yoga contemplation and having their minds always cheerful, enter into the unmanifest accumulation of happiness. Those persons who are freed from the idea of mineness as also from egoism and who are reborn after having attained to the fullness of Yoga contemplation, enter (when they depart from such life) into the highest region reserved for the great, viz., the Unmanifest. Born from that same unmanifest (principle) and attaining to the same once more, freed from the qualities of Darkness and Passion, and adhering to only the quality of Goodness, one becomes released from every sin and creates all things.[157] Such a one should be known to be Kshetrajna in perfection. He that knows him, knows the Veda.[158] Attaining to pure knowledge from (restraining) the mind, the ascetic should sit self-restrained. One necessarily becomes that on which one's mind is set. This is an eternal mystery. That which has the unmanifest for its beginning and gross qualities for its end, has been said to have Nescience for its indication. But do you understand that whose nature is destitute of qualities? Of two syllables is Mrityu (death); of three syllable is the eternal Brahman. Mineness is death, and the reverse of mineness is the eternal.[159] Some men who are led by bad understanding applaud action. Those, however, that are numbered among the high-souled ancients never applaud action. By action is a creature born with body which is made up of the sixteen.[160] (True) Knowledge swallows up Purusha (Self with consciousness of body). Even this is what is highly acceptable to eaters of Amrita.[161] Therefore, those whose vision extends to the other end (of the ocean of life) have no attachment for actions. This Purusha, however, is full of knowledge and not full of action.[162] He dies not who understands Him that is immortal, immutable, incomprehensible, eternal and indestructible--Him that is the restrained Soul and that transcends all attachments. He who thus understands the Soul to which there is nothing prior which is uncreated, immutable, unconquered, and incomprehensible even to those that are eaters of nectar, certainly becomes himself incomprehensible and immortal through these means. Expelling all impressions and restraining the Soul in the Soul, he understands that auspicious Brahman than which nothing greater exists. Upon the understanding becoming clear, he succeeds in attaining to tranquillity. The indication of tranquillity is like what takes place in a dream.[163] This is the goal of those emancipated ones who are intent on knowledge. They behold all those movements which are born of successive developments.[164] This is the goal of those who are unattached to the world. This is the eternal usage. This is the acquisition of men of knowledge. This is the uncensured mode of conduct. This goal is capable of being attained by one that is alike to all creatures, that is without attachment, that is without expectations, and that looks equally on all things. I have now declared everything to you, ye foremost of regenerate Rishis. Do you act in this way forthwith; you will then acquire success." "'"The preceptor continued, 'Thus addressed by the preceptor Brahma, those high-souled sages acted accordingly and then attained to many regions (of great felicity). Do thou also, O blessed one, duly act according to the words of Brahma as declared by me, O thou of pure soul. Thou wilt then attain to success.'" "'Vasudeva said,--"Thus instructed in the principles of high religion by the preceptor, the pupil, O son of Kunti, did everything accordingly, and then attained to Emancipation. Having done all that he should have done, the pupil, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, attained to that seat repairing whither one has not to grieve." "'Arjuna said, "Who, indeed, was that Brahmana, O Krishna, and who the pupil, O Janarddana. Truly, if it is fit to be heard by me, do thou then tell me, O lord!" "'Vasudeva said, "I am the preceptor, O mighty-armed one, and know that the mind is my pupil. Through my affection for thee, O Dhananjaya, I have related this mystery to thee. If thou hast any love for me, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, do thou then, after having heard these instructions relating to the Soul, always act duly (according to them), O thou of excellent vows. Then when this religion has been duly practised, O mower of foes, thou wilt become freed from all thy sins and attain to absolute emancipation. Formerly, when the hour of battle came, this very religion, O thou of mighty arms, was declared by me (to thee)! Do thou, therefore, set thy mind on it. And now, O chief of Bharata's race, it is long since that I saw the lord my sire. I wish to see him again, with thy leave, O Phalguna!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Unto Krishna who had said so, Dhananjaya said in reply,--"We shall go to-day from this town to the city called after the elephant. Meeting king Yudhishthira of virtuous soul there, and informing him (of thy intention) thou shalt then repair to thy own city!"'" SECTION LII "Vaisampayana said, 'After this, Krishna ordered Daruka, saying--"Let my car be yoked."--Within a very short space of time Daruka informed (his master), saying,--"It has been yoked."--The son of Pandu then commanded all his attendants, saying,--"Prepare yourselves and be ready. We shall repair to-day to the city named after the elephant." Thus addressed, O king, those troops accoutred themselves, and informed Pritha's son of immeasurable energy, saying,--"Everything is equipt." Then those two, viz., Krishna and the son of Pandu, ascended their car and proceeded on the journey, the loving friends engaged the while in delightful conversation. Unto Vasudeva seated on the car, Dhananjaya of great energy once more said these words, O chief of Bharata's race!--"O perpetuator of the Vrishni race, the king has obtained victory through thy grace. All his foes have been slain, and he has recovered his kingdom without a thorn in it (to make it disagreeable). O slayer of Madhu, through thee the Pandavas are endued with a powerful protector. Having obtained thee for our raft we have crossed the Kuru ocean. O thou that hast this universe for thy handiwork, salutations to thee, O Soul of the universe, O best of all beings in the universe. I know thee in that measure in which I am approved by thee.[165] O slayer of Madhu, the soul of every creature is always born of thy energy. Playful sport (in the form of creation, preservation, and destruction) is thine. Earth and sky, O lord, are thy illusion. This whole universe, consisting of mobile and immobile objects, is established on thee. Thou createst, by modification, the four orders of Being (viz., viviparous, oviparous, filth-born, and vegetables). Thou createst the Earth, the Welkin, and Heaven, O slayer of Madhu. The stainless lunar light is thy smile. The seasons are thy senses. The ever-moving wind is thy breath, and death, existing eternally, is thy wrath. In thy grace is the goddess of prosperity. Verily, Sree is always established in thee, O thou of the highest intelligence. Thou art the sport (in which creatures engage); thou art their contentment; thou their intelligence, thou their forgiveness, thou their inclinations, thou their beauty. Thou art the universe with its mobile and immobile objects. At the end of the cycle, it is thou, O sinless one, that art called destruction. I am incapable of reciting all thy qualities in course of even a long period. Thou art the Soul and the Supreme Soul. I bow to thee, O thou of eyes like the petals of the lotus. O thou that art irresistible, I have learnt it from Narada and Devala and the Island-born (Vyasa), and the Kuru grandsire also, that all this (universe) rests on thee. Thou art the one Lord of all creatures. This, O sinless one, that thou hast declared unto me in consequence of thy favour for myself, I shall duly accomplish in its entirety, O Janarddana. Exceedingly wonderful is this which thou hast done from desire of doing what is agreeable to us, viz., the destruction in battle of the Kaurava (prince), the son of Dhritarashtra. That host had been burnt by thee which I (subsequently) vanquished in battle. That feat was achieved by thee in consequence of which victory became mine. By the power of thy intelligence was shown the means by which was duly affected the destruction of Duryodhana in battle, as also of Karna, as of the sinful king of the Sindhus; and Bhurisravas. I shall accomplish all that which, O son of Devaki, pleased with me thou hast declared to myself. I do not entertain any scruple in this. Repairing to king Yudhishthira of righteous soul, I shall, O sinless one, urge him to dismiss thee, O thou that art conversant with every duty. O lord, thy departure for Dwaraka meets with my approbation. Thou shalt soon see my maternal uncle, O Janarddana. Thou shalt also see the irresistible Valadeva and other chiefs of the Vrishni race."--Thus conversing with each other, the two reached the city named after the elephant. They then, with cheerful hearts, and without any anxiety, entered the palace of Dhritarashtra which resembled the mansion of Sakra. They then saw, O monarch, king Dhritarashtra, and Vidura of great intelligence, and king Yudhishthira and the irresistible Bhimasena, and the two sons of Madri by Pandu; and the unvanquished Yuyatsu, seated before Dhritarashtra and Gandhari of great wisdom, and Pritha, and the beautiful Krishna, and the other ladies of Bharata's race with Subhadra counting first. They also saw all those ladies that used to wait upon Gandhari. Then approaching king Dhritarashtra, those two chastisers of foes announced their names and touched his feet. Indeed, those high-souled ones also touched the feet of Gandhari and Pritha and king Yudhishthira the Just, and Bhima. Embracing Vidura also, they enquired after his welfare. In the company of all those persons, Arjuna and Krishna then approached king Dhritarashtra (again). Night came and then king Dhritarashtra of great intelligence dismissed all those perpetuators of Kuru's race as also Janarddana for retiring to their respective chambers. Permitted by the king all of them entered their respective apartments. Krishna of great energy proceeded to the apartments of Dhananjaya. Worshipped duly and furnished with every object of comfort and enjoyment, Krishna of great intelligence passed the night in happy sleep with Dhananjaya as his companion. When the night passed away and morning came, the two heroes, finishing their morning rites and dealing their persons properly, proceeded to the mansion of king Yudhishthira the just. There Yudhishthira the just, of great might, sat with his ministers. The two high-souled ones, entering that well-adorned chamber, beheld king Yudhishthira the just like the two Aswins beholding the chief of the celestials. Meeting the king, he of Vrishni's race as also that foremost hero of Kuru's race, obtaining the permission of Yudhishthira who was highly pleased with them, sat themselves down. Then the king, gifted with great intelligence, seeing those two friends, became desirous of addressing them. Soon that best of monarchs, that foremost of speakers addressed them in the following words.' "'Yudhishthira said, "Ye heroes, ye foremost ones of Yadu's and Kuru's race, it seems that ye two are desirous of saying something to me. Do ye say what is in your mind. I shall soon accomplish it. Do not hesitate." "'Thus addressed, Phalguna, well conversant with speech, humbly approached king Yudhishthira the just and then said these words.--"Vasudeva here, of great prowess, O king, is long absent from home. He desires, with thy permission, to see his sire. Let him go, if thou thinkest it meet, to the city of the Anarttas. It behoveth thee, O hero, to grant him permission!" "'Yudhishthira said, "O lotus-eyed one, blessed be thou. O slayer of Madhu, do thou go this very day to the city of Dwaravati for seeing, O puissant one, that foremost one of Sura's race. O mighty-armed Kesava, thy departure is approved by me. Thou hast not seen my maternal uncle as also the goddess Devaki, for a long time. Meeting my maternal uncle and repairing to Valadeva also, O giver of honours, thou wilt, O thou of great wisdom, worship both of them at my word as they deserve.[166] Do thou also think of me daily as also of Bhima, that foremost of mighty men, and of Phalguna and Nakula and Sahadeva, O giver of honours. Having seen the Anarttas, and thy sire, O mighty-armed one, and the Vrishnis, thou wilt come back to my horse-sacrifice, O sinless one. Do thou then depart, taking with thee diverse kinds of gems and various sorts of wealth. Do thou, O hero of the Satwata race, also take with thee whatever else thou likest. It is through thy grace, O Kesava, that the whole Earth, O hero, has come under our dominion and all our foes have been slain." "'When king Yudhishthira the just of Kuru's race said so, Vasudeva, that foremost of men, said these words (in reply). "'Vasudeva said, "O mighty-armed one, all jewels and gems, all wealth, and the entire Earth, are thine and thine alone. Whatever wealth exists in my abode, thou, O lord, art always the owner thereof." Unto him Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, said,--"Be it so"--and then duly worshipped (Krishna) the eldest brother, endued with great energy, of Gada. Vasudeva then proceeded to his paternal aunt (Kunti). Duly honouring her, he circumambulated her person. He was properly accosted by her in return, and then by all the others having Vidura for their first. The four-armed eldest brother of Gada then set out from Nagapura on his excellent car.[167] Placing his sister, the lady Subhadra, on the car, the mighty-armed Janarddana then, with the permission of both Yudhishthira and (Kunti) his paternal aunt, set out, accompanied by a large train of citizens. The hero who had the foremost of apes on his banner, as also Satyaki, and the two sons of Madravati, and Vidura of immeasurable intelligence, and Bhima himself whose tread resembled that of a prince of elephants, all followed Madhava. Janarddana of mighty energy causing all those extenders of the Kuru kingdom and Vidura also to return, addressed Daraka, and Satyaki, saying,--"Urge the steeds to speed." Then that grinder of hostile masses, viz., Janarddana of great prowess, accompanied by Satyaki, the foremost one of Sini's race, proceeded to the city of the Anarttas, after having slain all his foes, like He of a hundred sacrifices proceeding to Heaven (after slaughtering all his foes).'" SECTION LIII "Vaisampayana said, 'As he of Vrishni's race was proceeding to Dwaraka, those foremost princes of Bharata's race, those chastisers of foes embraced him and fell back with their attendants. Phalguna repeatedly embraced the Vrishni hero, and as long as he was within the range of vision, he repeatedly turned his eyes towards him. With great difficulty, the son of Pritha withdrew his gaze that had fallen on Govinda. The unvanquished Krishna also (did the same). The indications that were manifested on the occasion of that high-souled one's departure, I shall now detail. Do thou listen to me. The wind blew with great speed before the car, clearing the path of sand-grains and dust and thorns. Vasava rained pure and fragrant showers and celestial flowers before the wielder of Saranga. As the mighty-armed hero proceeded, he came upon the desert ill supplied with water. There he beheld that foremost of ascetics, named Utanka, of immeasurable energy. The hero of large eyes and great energy worshipped that ascetic. He was then worshipped by the ascetic in return. Vasudeva then enquired after his welfare. That foremost of Brahmanas, viz., Utanka, politely accosted by Madhava, honoured him duly and then addressed him in these words.--"O Saurin, having repaired to the mansions of the Kurus and the Pandavas, hast thou succeeded in establishing a durable understanding between them such as should exist between brothers? It behoves thee to tell me everything. Dost thou come, O Kesava, after having united them in peace,--them that are thy relatives and that are ever dear to thee, O foremost one of Vrishni's race? Will the five sons of Pandu, and the children of Dhritarashtra, O scorcher of foes, sport in the world in joy with thee? Will all the kings enjoy happiness in their respective kingdoms, in consequence of the pacification of the Kauravas brought about by thee? Has that trust, O son, which I had always reposed on thee, borne fruit with regard to the Kauravas?" "'The blessed and holy one said, "I strove my best at first, for bringing about a good understanding, in regard to the Kauravas. When I could not by any means succeed in establishing them on peace, it happened that all of them, with their relatives and kinsmen, met with death. It is impossible to transgress destiny by either intelligence or might. O great Rishi, O sinless one, this also cannot be unknown to thee. They (the Kauravas) transgressed the counsels which Bhishma and Vidura gave them referring to me.[168] Encountering one another they then became guests of Yama's abode. Only the five Pandavas constitute the remnant of the unslain, all their friends and all their children having been slaughtered. All the sons of Dhritarashtra also with their children and kinsmen, have been slain." When Krishna had said these words, Utanka, filled with wrath, and with eyes expanded in rage, addressed him in these words. "'Utanka said,--"Since, though able, O Krishna, thou didst not rescue those foremost ones of Kuru's race, who were thy relatives and, therefore, dear to thee, I shall, without doubt, curse thee. Since thou didst not forcibly compel them to forbear, therefore, O slayer of Madhu, I shall, filled with wrath, denounce a curse on thee. It seems, O Madhava, that though fully able (to save them), thou wert indifferent to these foremost of Kurus who, overwhelmed by insincerity and hypocrisy have all met with destruction." "'Vasudeva said, "O scion of Bhrigu's race, listen to what I say in detail. Do thou accept my apologies also. O thou of Bhrigu's race, thou art an ascetic. After having heard my words relating to the soul, thou mayst then utter thy curse. No man is able, by a little ascetic merit, to put me down. O foremost of ascetics, I do not wish to see the destruction of all thy penances. Thou hast a large measure of blazing penances. Thou hast gratified thy preceptors and seniors.[169] O foremost of regenerate ones, I know that thou hast observed the rules of Brahmacharyya from the days of thy infancy. I do not, therefore, desire the loss or diminution of thy penances achieved with so much pain."'" SECTION LIV "'Utanka said, "Do thou, O Kesava, tell me that faultless Adhyatma. Having heard thy discourse I shall ordain what is for thy good or denounce a curse to thee, O Janarddana." "'Vasudeva said, "Know that the three qualities of Darkness and Passion and Goodness exist, depending on me as their refuge. So also, O regenerate one, know that the Rudras and the Vasus have sprung from me. In me are all creatures, and in all creatures do I exist; know this. Let no doubt arise in thy mind respecting this. So also, O regenerate one, know that all the tribes of the Daityas, all the Yakshas, Gandharvas, Rakshasas, Nagas, Apsaras, have sprung from me. Whatever has been called existent and non-existent, whatever is manifest and not-manifest, whatever is destructible and indestructible, all have me for their soul. Those fourfold courses of duty which, O ascetic, are known to attach to the (four) modes of life, and all the Vedic duties, have me for their soul. Whatever is non-existent, whatever is existent and non-existent, and whatever transcends that which is existent and non-existent,--all these which constitute the universe--are from me. There is nothing higher (or beyond) me who am the eternal god of gods.[170] O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, know that all the Vedas beginning with (the original syllable) Om are identical with me. Know, O son of Bhrigu's race, that I am the sacrificial stake; I am the Soma (drunk in sacrifices); I am the Charu (cooked in sacrifices for being offered to the deities); I am the Homa (that is performed); I am those acts which sacrificers perform for gratifying the deities; I am even the pourer of the sacrificial libation: and I am the Havi or libation that is poured. I am the Adharyu. I am the Kalpaka; and I am the highly sanctified sacrificial Havi. It is me whom the Udgatri, in the great sacrifice, hymns by the sound of his songs. In all rites of expiation, O Brahmana, the utterers of auspicious Mantras and benedictions fraught with peace hymn my praises who am the artificer, O foremost of regenerate ones, of the universe. Know, O best of regenerate person, that Dharma is my eldest-born offspring, sprung from my mind, O learned Brahmana, whose essence is compassion for all creatures. Constantly transforming myself, I take birth in diverse wombs, O best of men, for upholding that son of mine, with the aid of men now existing in or departed from the world. Indeed, I do this for protecting Righteousness and for establishing it. In those forms that I assume for the purpose, I am known, O son of Bhrigu's race, in the three worlds as Vishnu and Brahman and Sakra. I am the origin and I am the destruction of all things. I am the creator of all existent objects and I am their destroyer. Knowing no change myself, I am the destroyer of all those creatures that live in sinfulness. In every Yuga I have to repair the causeway of Righteousness, entering into diverse kinds of wombs from desire of doing good to my creatures. When, O son of Bhrigu's race, I live in the order of the deities, I then verily act in every respect as a deity. When I live in the order of the Gandharvas, I then, O son of Bhrigu's race, act in every respect as a Gandharva. When I live in the order of the Nagas, I then act as a Naga, and when I live in the order of Yakshas or that of Rakshasas, I act after the manner of that order. Born now in the order of humanity, I must act as a human being. I appealed to them (the Kauravas) most piteously. But stupefied as they were and deprived of their senses, they refused to accept my words. I frightened them, filled with wrath, referring to some great fear (as the consequence of their slighting my message). But once more I showed themselves my usual (human) form. Possessed as they were of unrighteousness, and assailed by the virtue of Time, all of them have been righteously slain in battle, and have, without doubt, gone to Heaven. The Pandavas also, O best of Brahmanas, have acquired great fame. I have thus told thee all that thou hadst asked me."'" SECTION LV "'Utanka said, "I know thee, O Janarddana, to be the creator of the universe. Without doubt, this knowledge that I have is the result of thy grace towards me. O thou of unfading glory, my heart is possessed of cheerful tranquillity in consequence of its being devoted to thee. Know, O chastiser of foes, that my heart is no longer inclined to curse thee. If, O Janarddana, I deserve the least grace from thee, do thou then show me once thy sovereign form."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Gratified with him, the holy one then showed Utanka that eternal Vaishnava form which Dhananjaya of great intelligence had seen. Utanka beheld the high-souled Vasudeva's universal form, endued with mighty arms. The effulgence of that form was like that of a blazing fire of a thousand suns. It stood before him filling all space. It had faces on every side. Beholding that high and wonderful Vaishnava form of Vishnu, in act, seeing the Supreme Lord (in that guise), the Brahmana Utanka became filled with wonder.' "'Utanka, said, "O thou whose handiwork is the universe, I bow to thee, O Soul of the universe, O parent of all things. With thy feet thou hast covered the whole Earth, and with thy head thou fillest the firmament. That which lies between the Earth and the firmament has been filled by thy stomach. All the points of the compass are covered by thy arms. O thou of unfading glory, thou art all this. Do thou withdraw this excellent and indestructible form of thine. I wish to behold thee now in thy own (human) form which too is eternal!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Unto him, O Janamejaya, Govinda of gratified soul said these words,--"Do thou ask for some boon." Unto him Utanka, however, said--"Even this is a sufficient boon from thee for the present, O thou of great splendour, in that, O Krishna, I have beheld this form of thine, O foremost of all beings." Krishna, however, once more said unto him--"Do not scruple in this matter. This must be done. A sight of my form cannot be fruitless." "'Utanka said, "I must accomplish that, O lord, which thou thinkest should be done. I desire to have water wherever my wish for it may arise. Water is scarce in such deserts." Withdrawing that energy, the Supreme Lord then said unto Utanka--"Whenever thou wilt require water, think of me!" Having said so, he proceeded towards Dwaraka. Subsequently, one day, the illustrious Utanka, solicitous of water and exceedingly thirsty, wandered over the desert. In course of his wanderings he thought of Krishna of unfading glory. The intelligent Rishi then beheld in that desert a naked hunter (of the Chandala class), all besmeared with dirt, surrounded by a pack of dogs. Extremely fierce-looking, he carried a sword and was armed with bow and arrows. That foremost of regenerate ones beheld copious streams of water issuing from the urinary organs of that hunter. As soon as Utanka had thought of Krishna, that hunter smilingly addressed him, saying,--"O Utanka, O thou of Bhrigu's race, do thou accept this water from me. Beholding thee afflicted by thirst I have felt great compassion for thee." Thus addressed by the hunter, the ascetic showed no inclination to accept that water. The intelligent Utanka even began to censure Krishna of unfading glory. The hunter, however, repeatedly addressed the Rishi, saying,--"Drink!" The ascetic refused to drink the water thus offered. On the other hand, with heart afflicted by hunger and thirst, he even gave way to wrath. Disregarded by the high-souled Rishi through that conviction, the hunter, O king, with his pack of dogs, disappeared there and then. Beholding that (wonderful) disappearance, Utanka became filled with shame. He even thought that Krishna, that slayer of foes, had beguiled him (in the matter of the boon he had granted). Soon after, the holder of the conch and discus and mace, endued with great intelligence, came to Utanka by the way (along which the hunter had come). Addressing Krishna, the Brahmana said,--"O foremost of beings, it was scarcely proper for thee to offer water unto foremost of Brahmanas in the form of a hunter's urine, O lord." Unto Utanka who said these words, Janarddana of great intelligence replied, comforting him with many soft words--"That form which it was proper to assume for offering thee water, in that form was water offered to thee. But, also, thou couldst not understand it. The wielder of the thunder bolt, Purandara, was requested by me for thy sake. My words to that puissant deity were--'Do thou give nectar in the form of water unto Utanka.' The chief of the celestials replied to me saying--'It is not proper that a mortal should become immortal. Let some other boon be granted to Utanka.'--O son of Bhrigu's race, these words were repeatedly addressed to me. The lord of Sachi, however, was once more requested by me in these words, viz., 'even nectar should be given to Utanka.'--The chief of the celestials then, comforting me, said,--'If, O thou of great intelligence, nectar is to be given to him, I shall then assume the form of a hunter and give it to that high-souled descendant of Bhrigu's race. If that son of Bhrigu accepts it thus, I then go to him, O lord, for giving it unto him. If, however, he sends me away from disregard,--I shall not then give it to him on any account.'--Having made this compact with me, Vasava appeared before thee, in that disguise, for giving thee nectar. Thou, however, didst disregard him and send him away, seeing that the illustrious one had put on the guise of a Chandala. Thy fault has been great. Once more, with regard to thy desire, I am prepared to do what is in my power. Indeed, this painful thirst of thine, I shall arrange, shall be slaked. On those days, O regenerate one, in which thou wilt feel a desire for water, clouds well-charged with water will rise over this desert. Those clouds, O son of Bhrigu's race, will give thee savoury water to drink. Verily, those clouds will become known in the world as Utanka-clouds." Thus addressed by Krishna, Utanka became filled with gladness, and to this day, O Bharata, Utanka-clouds (appear and) shower rain on any deserts.'" SECTION LVI "Janamejaya said, 'With what penances was the high-souled Utanka endued so that he entertained the wish to denounce a curse on Vishnu himself, who is the source of all puissance?' "Vaisampayana said, 'O Janamejaya, Utanka was endued with austere penances. He was devoted to his preceptor. Endued with great energy, he abstained from worshipping anybody else. All the children of the Rishis, O Bharata, entertained even this wish, viz., that their devotion to preceptors should be as great as that of Utanka. Gautama's gratification with and affection for Utanka, among his numerous disciples, were very great, O Janamejaya. Indeed, Gautama was highly pleased with the self-restraint and purity of behaviour that characterised Utanka, and with his acts of prowess and the services he rendered to him. One after another, thousands of disciples received the preceptor's permission to return home (after the completion of their pupilage). In consequence, however, of his great affection for Utanka, Gautama could not permit him to leave his retreat. Gradually, in course of time, O son, decrepitude overtook Utanka, that great ascetic. The ascetic, however, in consequence of his devotion to his preceptor, was not conscious of it. One day, he set out, O monarch, for fetching fuel for his preceptor. Soon after Utanka brought a heavy load of fuel. Toil-worn and hungry and afflicted by the load he bore on his head, O chastiser of foes, he threw the load down on the Earth, O king. One of his matted locks, white as silver, had become entangled with the load. Accordingly, when the load was thrown down, with it fell on the earth that matted lock of hair. Oppressed as he had been by that load and overcome by hunger, O Bharata, Utanka, beholding that sign of old age, began to indulge in loud lamentations from excess of sorrow. Conversant with every duty, the daughter of his preceptor, who was possessed of eyes that resembled the petals of the lotus, and of hips that were full and round, at the command of her sire, sought, with downcast face, to hold Utanka's tears in her hands. Her hands seemed to burn with those tear-drops that she held. Unable, accordingly, to hold them longer, she was obliged to throw them down on the Earth. The Earth herself was unable to hold those tear-drops of Utanka. With a gratified heart, Gautama then said unto the regenerate Utanka,--"Why, O son, is thy mind so afflicted with grief today? Tell me calmly and quietly, O learned Rishi, for I wish to hear it in detail." "'Utanka said, "With mind entirely devoted to thee, and wholly bent upon doing what is agreeable to thee, with my heart's devotion turned to thee, and with thoughts entirely dwelling on thee, (I have resided here till) decrepitude has come upon me without my knowing it at all. I have not, again, known any happiness. Though I have dwelt with thee for a hundred years, yet thou hast not granted me permission to depart. Many disciples of thine, that were my juniors, have, however, been permitted by thee to return. Indeed, hundreds and thousands of foremost Brahmanas have, equipt with knowledge, been permitted by thee (to depart from thy retreat and set themselves up as teachers)!" "'Gautama said, "Through my love and affection for thee, and in consequence of thy dutiful services to me, a long time has elapsed without my knowing it, O foremost of Brahmanas. If, however, O thou of Bhrigu's race, the desire is entertained by thee of leaving this place, do thou go without delay, receiving my permission." "'Utanka said, "What shall I present to my preceptor? Tell me this, O best of regenerate persons. Having brought it, I shall go hence, O lord, with thy permission." "'Gautama said, "The good that the gratification of the preceptor is the final fee.[171] Without doubt, O regenerate one. I have been highly gratified with thy conduct. Know, O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, that I have been exceedingly gratified with thee for this. If thou becomest a young man today of sixteen years, I shall bestow on thee, O regenerate one, this my own daughter for becoming thy wife. No other woman save this one is capable of waiting upon thy energy." At these words of Gautama, Utanka once again became a youth and accepted that famous maiden for his wife. Receiving the permission of his preceptor, he then addressed his preceptor's wife, saying,--"What shall I give thee as final fee for my preceptor? Do thou command me. I desire to accomplish, with wealth or even my life, what is agreeable and beneficial to thee. Whatever gem, exceedingly wonderful and of great value, exists in this world, I shall bring for thee with the aid of my penances. I have no doubt in this." "'Ahalya said, "I am highly gratified with thee, O learned Brahmana, with thy unintermitting devotion, O sinless one. This is enough. Blessed be thou, go whithersoever thou likest."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Utanka, however, O monarch, once more, said these words,--"Do thou command me, O mother. It is meet that I should do something that is agreeable to thee." "'Ahalya said, "Blessed be thou, bring for me those celestial ear-rings that are worn by the wife of Saudasa. That which is due to thy preceptor will then be well-discharged." Replying unto her "So be it,"--Utanka departed, O Janamejaya, resolved to bring those ear-rings for doing what was agreeable to his preceptor's wife. That foremost of Brahmanas, Utanka, proceeded without any loss of time to Saudasa who had (through the curse of Vasishtha) become a cannibal, in order to solicit the ear-rings from him. Gautama meanwhile said unto his wife,--"Utanka is not to be seen today." Thus addressed, she informed him how he had departed for fetching the jewelled ear-rings (of Saudasa's queen). At this, Gautama said,--"Thou hast not acted wisely. Cursed (by Vasishtha), that king (who has been transformed into a man-eater) will verily slay Utanka." "'Ahalya said, "Without knowing this, O holy one, I have set Utanka to this task. He shall not, however, incur any danger through thy grace." Thus addressed by her, Gautama said,--"Let it be so!" Meanwhile, Utanka met king Saudasa in a deserted forest.'" SECTION LVII "Vaisampayana said, 'Beholding the king, who had become so, of frightful mien, wearing a long beard smeared with the blood of human beings, the Brahmana Utanka, O king, did not become agitated. That monarch of great energy, inspiring terror in every breast and looking like a second Yama, rising up, addressed Utanka, saying,--"By good luck, O best of Brahmanas, thou hast come to me at the sixth hour of the day when I am in search of food." "'Utanka said, "O king, know that I have come hither in course of my wanderings for the sake of my preceptor. The wise have said that while one is employed for the sake of one's preceptor, one should not be injured." "'The king said, "O best of Brahmanas, food has been ordained for me at the sixth hour of the day. I am hungry. I cannot, therefore, allow thee to escape today." "'Utanka said, "Let it be so, O king. Let this compact be made with me. After I have ceased to wander for my preceptor, I shall once more come and place myself within thy power. It has been heard by me, O best of kings, that the object I seek for my preceptor is under thy control, O monarch. Therefore, O ruler of men, I solicit thee for it. Thou daily givest many foremost of gems unto superior Brahmanas. Thou art a giver, O chief of men, from whom gifts may be accepted, know that I too am a worthy object of charity present before thee, O best of kings. Having accepted from thee in gift that object for my preceptor which is under thy control, I shall, O king, in consequence of my compact, once more come back to thee and place myself under thy power. I assure thee truly of this. There is no falsehood in this. Never before have I spoken anything untrue, no, not even in jest. What shall I say then of other occasions?" "'Saudasa said, "If the object thou seekest for thy preceptor is capable of being placed in thy hands by me, if I be regarded as one from whom a gift may be accepted, do thou then say what that object is." "'Utanka said, "O foremost of men, O Saudasa, in my estimation thou art a worthy person from whom gifts may be accepted. I have, therefore, come to thee for begging of thee the jewelled ear-rings (worn by thy queen)." "'Saudasa said, "Those jewelled ear-rings, O learned and regenerate Rishi, belong to my wife. They should be asked from her. Do thou, therefore, solicit some other thing from me. I shall give it to thee, O thou of excellent vows." "'Utanka said, "If we be regarded as any authority, do thou cease then to urge this pretext. Do thou give those jewelled ear-rings to me. Be thou truthful in speech, O king."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, the king once more addressed Utanka and said unto him, "Do thou, at my word, go to my venerable queen, O best of men, and ask her, saying,--Give!--She of pure vows, thus solicited by thee, will certainly, at my command, give thee, O foremost of regenerate persons, those jewelled ear-rings of hers without doubt." "'Utanka said, "Whither, O ruler of men, shall I be able to meet thy queen? Why dost thou not thyself go to her?" "'Saudasa said, "Thou wilt find her today in the vicinity of a foremost fountain. I cannot see her today as the sixth hour of the day has come."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, Utanka, O chief of Bharata's race, then left that spot. Beholding Madayanti, he informed her of his object. Hearing the command of Saudasa, that lady of large eyes replied unto the highly intelligent Utanka, O Janamejaya, in these words: "It is even so, O regenerate one. Thou shouldst, however, O sinless one, assure me that thou dost not say what is untrue. It behoves thee to bring me some sign from my husband. These celestial ear-rings of mine, made of costly gems, are such that the deities and Yakshas and great Rishis always watch for opportunities for bearing them away. If placed at any time on the Earth, this costly article would then be stolen by the Nagas. If worn by one who is impure in consequence of eating, it would then be taken away by the Yakshas. If the wearer falls asleep (without taking care of these precious ear-rings) the deities would then take them away. O best of Brahmanas, these ear-rings are capable of being taken away, when such opportunities present themselves, by deities and Rakshasas and Nagas, if worn by a heedless person. O best of regenerate ones, these ear-rings, day and night, always produce gold. At night, they shine brightly, attracting the rays of stars and constellations. O holy one, if worn by any one, he would be freed from hunger and thirst and fear of every kind. The wearer of these ear-rings is freed also from the fear of poison and fire and every kind of danger. If worn by one of short stature, these become short. If worn by one of tall stature, these grow in size. Even of such virtues are these ear-rings of mine. They are praised and honoured everywhere. Indeed, they are known over the three worlds. Do thou, therefore, bring me some sign (from my husband)."'" SECTION LVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Utanka, coming back to king Saudasa who was always well-disposed towards all his friends, solicited him for some sign (to convince Madayanti of the fact of his being really commissioned by the king). That foremost one of Ikshwaku's race then gave him a sign.' "'Saudasa said, "This my present condition is intolerable. I do not behold any refuge. Knowing this to be my wish, do thou give away the jewelled ear-rings."[172] Thus addressed by the king, Utanka went back to the queen and reported to her the words of her lord. Hearing those words, the queen gave unto Utanka her jewelled ear-rings. Having obtained the ear-rings, Utanka came back to the king and said unto him, "I desire to hear, O monarch, what the import is of those mysterious words which thou saidst as a sign to thy queen." "'Saudasa said, "Kshatriyas are seen to honour the Brahmanas from the very beginning of the creation. Towards the Brahmanas, however, many offences arise (on the part of Kshatriyas). As regards myself, I am always bent in humility before them. I am overtaken by a calamity through a Brahmana. Possessed of Madayanti, I do not see any other refuge. Indeed, O foremost of all persons having of a high goal, I do not behold any other refuge for myself in the matter of approaching the gates of Heaven, or in continuing here, O best of regenerate ones. It is impossible for a king that is hostile to Brahmanas to continue living in this world or in attaining to happiness in the next. Hence have I given thee these my jewelled ear-rings which were coveted by thee.[173] Do thou now keep the compact which thou hast made with me today." "'Utanka said, "O king, I shall certainly act according to my promise. I shall truly come back and place myself under thy power. There is, however, a question, O scorcher of foes, which I wish to ask thee." "'Saudasa said, "Say, O learned Brahmana, what is in thy mind. I shall certainly reply unto thy words. I shall dispel whatever doubt may be in thy mind. I have no hesitation in this." "'Utanka said, "Those who are skilled in the rules of duty say that Brahmanas are of restrained speech. One who behaves wrongly towards friends is regarded as vile as a thief.[174] Thou, again, O king, hast become my friend today. Do thou then, O foremost of men, give me such counsel as is approved by the wise. As regards myself, I have now obtained the fruition of my wishes. Thou, again, art a cannibal. Is it proper for me to come back to thee or not?" "'Saudasa said, "If it is proper (for me), O foremost of superior Brahmanas, to say what thou askest, I should then, O best of regenerate ones, tell thee that thou shouldst never come back to me. O perpetuator of Bhrigu's race, by acting even thus, thou wilt attain to what is beneficial to thee. If thou comest back, O learned Brahmana, thou wilt surely meet with death."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by the intelligent king in respect of what was beneficial for him, Utanka took leave of the monarch and set out for the presence of Ahalya. Desirous of doing what was agreeable to the wife of his preceptor, he took the ear-rings with him and set out with great speed for reaching the retreat of Gautama. Protecting them even in the manner directed by Madayanti, that is, binding them within the folds of his black deer-skin, he proceeded on his way. After he had proceeded for some distance, he became afflicted by hunger. He there beheld a Vilwa tree bent down with the weight of (ripe) fruits.[175] He climbed that tree. Causing his deer-skin, O chastiser of foes, to hang on a branch, that foremost of regenerate persons then began to pluck some fruits. While he was employed in plucking those fruits with eyes directed towards them, some of them fell, O king, on that deerskin in which those ear-rings had been carefully tied by that foremost of Brahmanas. With the strokes of the fruits, the knot became untied. Suddenly that deer-skin, with the ear-rings in it, fell down. When the knot being unfastened, the deer-skin fell down on the ground, a snake who was there beheld those jewelled ear-rings. That snake belonged to the race of Airavata. With great promptness he took up the ear-rings in his mouth and then entered an anthill. Beholding the ear-rings taken away by that snake, Utanka, filled with wrath and in great anxiety of mind, came down from the tree. Taking his staff he began to pierce that anthill. That best of Brahmanas, burning with wrath and the desire for revenge, ceaselessly employed himself for five and thirty days in that task. The goddess Earth, unable to bear the force of Utanka's walking staff and with body torn therewith, became exceedingly anxious. Unto that regenerate Rishi then, who continued to dig the Earth from desire of making a path to the nether regions inhabited by the Nagas, the chief of the celestials, armed with the thunder, came there, on his car drawn by green horses. Endued with great energy, he beheld that foremost of Brahmanas, as he sat there engaged in his task.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Assuming the garb of a Brahmana afflicted with the sorrow of Utanka, the chief of the celestials addressed him, saying, "This (purpose of thine) is incapable of being achieved. The regions of the Nagas are thousands of Yojanas removed from this place. I think that thy purpose is not capable of being achieved with thy walking staff." "'Utanka said, "If, O Brahmana, the ear-rings be not recovered by me from the regions of the Nagas, I shall cast off my life-breaths before thy eyes, O foremost of regenerate persons!"' "Vaisampayana said, 'When the thunder-armed Indra failed to divert Utanka from his purpose, he united the latter's walking staff with the force of thunder. Then, O Janamejaya, the Earth, opening with those strokes having the force of thunder, yielded a way to the (nether) regions inhabited by the Nagas. By that path Utanka entered the world of Nagas. He saw that that region lay extended thousands of Yojanas on all sides. Indeed, O blessed one, it was equipt with many walls made of pure gold and decked with jewels and gems. There were many fine tanks of water furnished with flights of stair-cases made of pure crystal, and many rivers of clear and transparent water. He saw also many trees with diverse species of birds perching on them. That perpetuator of Bhrigu's race behold the gate of that region which was full five Yojanas high and a hundred Yojanas in width. Beholding the region of the Nagas, Utanka became very cheerless. Indeed, he despaired of getting back the earrings. Then there appeared unto him a black steed with a white tail. His face and eyes were of a coppery hue, O thou of Kuru's race, and he seemed to blaze forth with energy. Addressing Utanka, he said, "Do thou blow into the Apana duct of my body. Thou wilt then, O learned Brahmana, get back thy ear-rings which have been taken away by a descendant of Airavata's race! Do not loathe to do my bidding, O son. Thou didst it often at the retreat of Gautama in former days." "'Utanka said, "How did I know thee in the retreat of my preceptor? Indeed, I wish to hear how I did in those days what thou biddest me do now." "'The steed said, "Know, O learned Brahmana, that I am the preceptor of thy preceptor, for I am the blazing Jatavedas (deity of fire). By thee I was often worshipped for the sake of thy preceptor, O child of Bhrigu's race, duly and with a pure heart and body. For that reason I shall accomplish what is for thy good. Do my bidding without delay." Thus addressed by the deity of fire, Utanka did as he was directed. The deity then, gratified with him, blazed up for consuming everything. From the pores of his body, O Bharata, in consequence of his very nature, a thick smoke issued threatening terrors to the world of Nagas. With that mighty and wide-spreading smoke, O Bharata, everything became enveloped in gloom, so that nothing, O king, could any longer be seen in the world of the Nagas. Cries of woe were heard throughout the mansions of the Airavatas, uttered by the Nagas headed by Vasuki, O Janamejaya. Enveloped by that smoke, the palaces could no longer be seen, O Bharata. These resembled woods and hill overwhelmed by a thick forest. With eyes that were red in consequence of that smoke, and afflicted by the energy of the deity of fire, the Nagas came out of their mansions to the high-souled son of Bhrigu's race for ascertaining what was the matter. Having heard what the matter was from that ascetic of immeasurable energy, all the Nagas, with fear depicted on their eyes, offered him their worship according to due forms. Indeed, all the Nagas placing the old and the young one's before them, bowed unto him with their heads and joining their hands addressed him, saying, "Be gratified with us, O holy one!" Having gratified that Brahmana and offered him water to wash his feet and the ingredients of the Arghya (for honouring him), the Nagas gave him those celestial and highly-adored ear-rings. Thus honoured by them, Utanka of great prowess, circumambulating the deity of fire, started for the retreat of his preceptor. Indeed, repairing quickly to Gautama's asylum, O king, he presented those ear-rings unto the wife of his preceptor, O sinless one. That best of Brahmanas also told his preceptor everything about Vasuki and the other Nagas that had occurred. It was even thus, O Janamejaya, that the high-souled Utanka, having wandered through the three worlds, fetched those jewelled ear-rings (for his preceptor's wife). Of such prowess, O chief of Bharata's race, was the ascetic Utanka. So austere were the penances with which he was endued. I have thus told thee what thou hadst asked me.'" SECTION LIX "Janamejaya said, 'After having conferred that boon on Utanka, O foremost of regenerate persons, what did the mighty-armed Govinda of great celebrity next do?' "Vaisampayana said, 'Having granted that boon to Utanka, Govinda, accompanied by Satyaki, proceeded to Dwaraka on his car drawn by his large steeds endued with great speed. Passing many lakes and rivers and forests and hills, he at last came upon the delightful city of Dwaravati. It was at the time, O king, when the festival of Raivataka had begun, that he of eyes like lotus-petals arrived with Satyaki as his companion. Adorned with many beautiful things and covered with diverse Koshas made of jewels and gems, the Raivataka hill shone, O king, with great splendour. That high mountain, decked with excellent garlands of gold and gay festoons of flowers, with many large trees that looked like the Kalpa trees of Indra's garden, and with many golden poles on which were lighted lamps, shone in beauty through day and night. By the caves and fountains the light was so great that it seemed to be broad day. On all sides beautiful flags waved on the air with little bells that jingled continuously. The entire hill resounded with the melodious songs of men and women. Raivataka presented a most charming prospect like Meru with all his jewels and gems. Men and women, excited and filled with delight, O Bharata, sang aloud. The swell of music that thus rose from that foremost of mountains seemed to touch the very heavens. Everywhere were heard shouts and loud whoops of men who were in all stages of excitement. The cackle of thousands of voices made that mountain delightful and charming. It was adorned with many shops and stalls filled with diverse viands and enjoyable articles. There were heaps of cloths and garlands, and the music of Vinas and flutes and Mridangas was heard everywhere. Food mixed with wines of diverse kinds was stored here and there. Gifts were being ceaselessly made to those that were distressed, or blind, or helpless. In consequence of all this, the festival of that mountain became highly auspicious. There were many sacred abodes built on the breast of that mountain, O hero, within which resided many men of righteous deeds. Even thus did the heroes of Vrishni's race sport in that festival of Raivataka. Equipt with those mansions, that mountain shone like a second Heaven. At the arrival of Krishna, O chief of Bharata's race, that prince of mountains resembled the blessed abode of Indra himself. Worshipped (by his relatives), Krishna then entered a beautiful mansion. Satyaki also went to his own quarters with a delighted soul. Govinda entered his residence after a long absence, having accomplished feats of great difficulty like Vasava amid the Danava host. The heroes of the Bhoja, Vrishni, and Andhaka races, all came forward to receive that high-souled one like the deities advancing to receive him of a hundred sacrifices. Endued with great intelligence, he honoured them in return and enquired after their welfare. With a gratified heart he then saluted his father and mother. The mighty-armed hero was embraced by both of them and comforted too (by numerous evidences of affection). He then took his seat with all the Vrishnis sitting around him. Having washed his feet and dispelled his fatigue, Krishna of mighty energy, as he sat there, then recounted the chief incidents of the great battle in answer to the questions put to him by his sire.'" SECTION LX "'Vasudeva said, "O thou of Vrishni's race, I have repeatedly heard men speaking of the wonderful battle (between the Kurus and the Pandavas). Thou, however, O mighty-armed one, hast witnessed it with thy own eyes. Do thou, therefore, O sinless one, describe the battle in detail. Indeed, tell me how that battle took place between the high-souled Pandavas (on the one side) and Bhishma and Karna and Kripa and Drona and Salya and others (on the other side), between, in fact, numerous other Kshatriyas well-skilled in arms, differing from one another in mien and attire, and hailing from diverse realms."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by his sire, he of eyes like lotus-petals narrated, in the presence of his mother also, how the Kaurava heroes had been slain in battle.' "'Vasudeva said, "The feats were highly wonderful that were achieved by those high-souled Kshatriyas. In consequence of their large number, they are incapable of being enumerated in even hundreds of years. I shall however, mention only the foremost of them. Do thou listen, therefore, to me as I mention in brief those feats achieved by the kings of Earth, O thou of godlike splendour. Bhishma of Kuru's race became the generalissimo, having eleven divisions of the Kaurava princes under his command, like Vasava of the celestial forces.[176] Sikhandin of great intelligence, protected by the blessed Arjuna, became the leader of the seven divisions of the sons of Pandu. The battle between the Kurus and the Pandavas (under these leaders) raged for ten days. It was so fierce as to make one's hair stand on its end. Then Sikhandin, in great battle, aided by the wielder of Gandiva, slew, with innumerable arrows, the son of Ganga fighting bravely. Lying on a bed of arrows, Bhishma waited like an ascetic till the sun leaving his southward path entered on his northerly course when that hero gave up his life-breaths. Then Drona, that foremost of all persons conversant with arms, that greatest of men under Duryodhana, like Kavya himself of the lord of the Daityas, became generalissimo.[177] That foremost of regenerate persons, ever boasting of his prowess in battle, was supported by the remnant of the Kaurava force consisting then of nine Akshauhinis, and protected by Kripa and Vrisha and others. Dhrishtadyumna conversant with many mighty weapons, and possessed of great intelligence, became the leader of the Pandavas. He was protected by Bhima like Varuna protected by Mitra. That high-souled hero, always desirous of measuring his strength with Drona, supported by the (remnant of the) Pandava army, and recollecting the wrongs inflicted (by Drona) on his sire (Drupada, the king of the Panchalas), achieved great feats in battle. In that encounter between Drona and the son of Prishata, the kings assembled from diverse realms were nearly exterminated. That furious battle lasted for five days. At the conclusion of that period, Drona, exhausted, succumbed to Dhrishtadyumna. After that, Karna became the generalissimo of Duryodhana's forces. He was supported in battle by the remnant of the Kaurava host which numbered five Akshauhinis. Of the sons of Pandu there were then three Akshauhinis. After the slaughter of innumerable heroes, protected by Arjuna, they came to battle. The Suta's son Karna, though a fierce warrior, encountering Partha, came to his end on the second day, like an insect encountering a blazing fire. After the fall of Karna, the Kauravas became dispirited and lost all energy. Numbering three Akshauhinis, they gathered round the ruler of the Madras. Having lost many car-warriors and elephants and horsemen, the remnant of the Pandava army, numbering one Akshauhini and penetrated with cheerlessness, supported Yudhishthira (as their leader). The king Yudhishthira, in the battle that ensued, achieved the most difficult feats and slew, before half the day was over, the king of the Madras. After the fall of Salya, the high-souled Sahadeva of immeasurable prowess slew Sakuni, the man who had brought about the quarrel (between the Pandavas and the Kurus). After the fall of Sakuni, the royal son of Dhritarashtra, whose army had suffered an extensive carnage and who on that account had become exceedingly cheerless, fled from the field, armed with his mace. Then Bhimasena of great prowess, filled with wrath, pursued him and discovered him within the waters of the Dwaipayana lake. With the remnant of their army, the Pandavas surrounded the lake and, filled with joy, encountered Duryodhana concealed within the waters. Their wordy shafts, penetrating through the waters, pierced Duryodhana. Rising up from the lake, the latter approached the Pandavas, armed with his mace, desirous of battle. Then, in the great battle that ensued, the royal son of Dhritarashtra was slain by Bhimasena who put forth his great prowess, in the presence of many kings. After this the remnant of the Pandava army, as it slept in the camp, was slaughtered at night time by Drona's son who was unable to put up with the slaughter of his father (at the hands of Dhrishtadyumna). Their sons slain, their forces slain, only the five sons of Pandu are alive with myself and Yuyudhana. With Kripa and the Bhoja prince Kritavarman, the son of Drona represents the unslain remnant of the Kaurava army. Dhritarashtra's son Yuyutsu also escaped slaughter in consequence of his having adopted the side of the Pandavas. Upon the slaughter of the Kaurava king (Suyodhana) with all his followers and allies, Vidura and Sanjaya have come to the presence of king Yudhishthira the just. Even thus did that battle occur, O lord, for eight and ten days. Many kings of Earth, slain therein, have ascended to Heaven."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The Vrishnis, as they heard, O king, that dreadful account became filled with grief and sorrow and pain.'" SECTION LXI "Vaisampayana said, 'After the high-souled Vasudeva of great prowess had finished his narration of the great battle of the Bharatas before his sire, it was plain that that hero had passed over the slaughter of Abhimanyu. The motive of the high-souled one was that his sire might not hear what was highly unpleasant to him. Indeed, the intelligent Krishna did not wish that his sire Vasudeva should, on hearing the dreadful intelligence of the death of his daughter's son, be afflicted with sorrow and grief. (His sister) Subhadra, noticing that the slaughter of her son had not been mentioned, addressed her brother, saying,--"Do thou narrate the death of my son, O Krishna"--and fell down on the earth (in a swoon). Vasudeva beheld his daughter fallen on the ground. As soon as he saw this, he also fell down, deprived of his senses by grief. (Regaining his senses) Vasudeva, afflicted with grief at the death of his daughter's son, O king, addressed Krishna, saying, "O lotus-eyed one, thou art famed on Earth for being truthful in speech. Why, however, O slayer of foes, dost thou not tell me today of the death of my daughter's son? O puissant one, tell me in detail of the slaughter of thy sister's son. Possessed of eyes resembling thine, alas, how was he slain in battle by foes? Since my heart does not from grief break into a hundred pieces, it seems, O thou of the Vrishni's race, that it does not die with men when its hour does not come. Oh, at the time of his fall, what words did he utter, apostrophising his mother? O lotus-eyed one what did that darling of mine, possessed of restless eyes, say unto me? I hope he has not been slain by foes while retreating from battle with his back towards them? I hope, O Govinda, that, his face did not become cheerless while fighting? He was possessed, O Krishna, of mighty energy. From a spirit of boyishness, that puissant hero, boasting (of his prowess) in my presence, used to speak of his skill (in battle). I hope that boy does not lie on the field, slain deceitfully by Drona and Karna and Kripa and others? Do thou tell me this. That son of my daughter always used to challenge Bhishma and that foremost of all mighty warriors, viz., Karna, in battle." Unto his sire who, from excess of grief, indulged in such lamentations, Govinda, more afflicted than he answered in these words. "His face did not become cheerless as he fought in the van of battle. Fierce though that battle was, he did not turn his back upon it. Having slain hundreds and thousands of kings of Earth, he was brought to grief by Drona and Karna and at last succumbed to the son of Dussasana. If, O lord, he had been encountered, one to one, without intermission, he was incapable of being slain in battle by even the wielder of the thunderbolt. When his sire Arjuna was withdrawn from the main body by the Samsaptakas (who challenged to fight him separately), Abhimanyu was surrounded by the enraged Kaurava heroes headed by Drona in battle. Then, O sire, after he had slaughtered a very large number of foes in battle, thy daughter's son at last succumbed to the son of Dussasana. Without doubt, he has gone to Heaven. Kill this grief of thine, O thou of great intelligence. They that are of cleansed understandings never languish when they meet with any calamity. He by whom Drona and Karna and others were checked in battle,--heroes that were equal to Indra himself in might--why would not he ascend to Heaven? O irresistible one, do thou kill this grief of thine. Do not suffer thyself to be swayed by wrath. That conqueror of hostile cities has attained in that sanctified goal which depends upon death at the edge of weapons. After the fall of that hero, this my sister Subhadra stricken with grief, indulged in loud lamentations, when she saw Kunti, like a female osprey. When she met Draupadi, she asked her in grief,--'O reverend lady, where are all our sons? I desire to behold them.' Hearing her lamentations, all the Kaurava ladies embraced her and wept sitting around her. Beholding (her daughter-in-law) Uttara, she said,--'O blessed girl, where has thy husband gone? When he comes back, do thou, without losing a moment, apprise me of it. Alas, O daughter of Virata, as soon he heard my voice, he used to come out of his chamber without the loss of a moment. Why does not thy husband come out today? Alas, O Abhimanyu, thy maternal uncles--mighty car-warriors--are all hale. They used to bless thee when they saw thee come here prepared to go out for battle. Do thou tell me the incidents of battle today as before, O chastiser of foes. Oh. why dost thou not answer me today--me who am weeping so bitterly?'--Hearing these lamentations of this daughter of the Vrishni race, Pritha, deeply afflicted with grief, addressed her and slowly said,--'O Subhadra, though protected by Vasudeva and Satyaki and by his own sire, thy youthful son has yet been slain. That slaughter is due to the influence of Time! O daughter of Yadu's race, mortal thy son was. Do not grieve. Irresistible in battle, thy son has, without doubt, attained to the highest goal. Thou art born in a high race of high-souled Kshatriyas. Do not grieve, O thou of restless glances, O girl of eyes like lotus-petals. Do thou cast thy eyes on Uttara who is quick with child. O blessed lady, do not yield to sorrow. This auspicious girl will soon bring forth a son to that hero.' Having comforted her in this way, Kunti, conversant with every duty, O perpetuator of Yadu's race, casting off her grief, O irresistible one, made arrangements for Abhimanyu's obsequial rites, with the acquiescence of king Yudhishthira and Bhima, and the twins (viz., Nakula and Sahadeva) who in prowess resembled Yama himself. She also made many presents unto the Brahmanas, and bestowed upon them many kine, O perpetuator of Yadu's race. Then the Vrishni dame (Kunti), comforted a little, addressed the daughter of Virata, saying,--'O faultless daughter of Virata, thou shouldst not indulge in grief. For the sake of thy husband, O thou of rotund hips, protect the child in thy womb.'--Having said these words, O thou of great splendour, Kunti ceased. With her permission I have brought Subhadra here. It was even thus, O giver of honours, that thy daughter's son met with his death. Cast off thy burning grief, O irresistible one. Indeed, do not set thy heart on sorrow."'" SECTION LXII "Vaisampayana said, 'Having heard these words of his son Vasudeva, that descendant of Sura, of righteous soul, casting off his grief, made excellent obsequial offerings (unto Abhimanyu). Vasudeva also performed those rites for the ascension (to Heaven) of his high-souled nephew, that hero who was ever the darling of his sire (Vasudeva). He duly fed six millions of Brahmanas, endued with great energy, with edibles possessed of every recommendation. Presenting many clothes unto them, Krishna gratified the thirst for wealth of those Brahmanas. Wonderful were the heaps of gold, the number of kine and of beds and clothes, that were then given away. The Brahmanas loudly declared--"Let (Krishna's wealth) increase." Then Vasudeva of Dasarha's race, and Valadeva, and Satyaki, and Satyaka, each performed the obsequial rites of Abhimanyu. Exceedingly afflicted with grief, they failed to attain comfort. The same was the case with the sons of Pandu in the city called after the elephant. Deprived of Abhimanyu, they failed to obtain peace of mind. The daughter of Virata, O monarch, for many days, totally abstained from all food, exceedingly afflicted by grief on account of the death of her husband. At this all her relatives became plunged into excess of grief. They all feared that the embryo in her womb might be destroyed. Then Vyasa, ascertaining the state of things by his spiritual vision, came there. The highly intelligent Rishi, endued with great energy, arrived (at the palace), addressed Pritha of large eyes, as also Uttara herself, saying,--"Let this grief be abandoned. O famous lady, a son endued with mighty energy will be born to thee, through the puissance of Vasudeva and at my word. That son will rule the Earth after the Pandavas (have departed from it)." Beholding Dhananjaya, he said unto him, in the hearing of king Yudhishthira the just, and gladdening him with his words, "O Bharata, thy grandson, O highly blessed one, will become a high-souled prince. He will righteously rule the whole Earth to the verge of the sea. Therefore, O foremost one of Kuru's race, cast off this grief, O mower of foes. Do not doubt this. This will truly happen. That which was uttered by the Vrishni hero on a former occasion, will, without doubt, happen. Do not think otherwise. As regards Abhimanyu, he has gone to the regions of the deities, conquered by him with his own acts. That hero should not be grieved for by thee or, indeed, by the other Kurus." Thus addressed by his grandsire, Dhananjaya of righteous soul, O king, cast off his grief and even became cheerful. Thy sire, O prince, that art conversant with all duties, began to grow in that womb, O thou of great intelligence, like the Moon in the lighted fortnight. Then Vyasa urged the royal son of Dharma for performing the horse-sacrifice. Having said so, he made himself invisible there and then. The intelligent king Yudhishthira the just, hearing the words of Vyasa, set his mind on the journey for bringing wealth (for the sacrifice).'" SECTION LXIII "Janamejaya said, 'Having heard these words, O regenerate one, that were spoken by the high-souled Vyasa in respect of the horse-sacrifice, what steps were taken by Yudhishthira? Do thou tell me, O foremost of regenerate ones, how the king succeeded in obtaining the wealth which Marutta had buried in the Earth.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Having heard the words of the Island-born ascetic, king Yudhishthira the just, summoned all his brothers, viz., Arjuna and Bhimasena and the twin sons of Madri, in proper time and then said unto them (the following words),--"Ye heroes, you have heard the words which the highly intelligent and high-souled Krishna has said from his friendship for and the desire of doing good to the Kurus![178] Verily, you have heard those words that have been uttered by that ascetic of abundant penances, that great sage desirous of bestowing prosperity on his friends, that preceptor of righteous behaviour, viz., Vyasa of wonderful feats. You have heard what Bhishma also said, and what Govinda too of great intelligence has uttered. Remembering those words, ye sons of Pandu, I desire to obey them duly. By obeying those words of theirs great blessedness will attach to all of you. Those words spoken by those utterers of Brahma are certain (if obeyed) to bring in their train considerable benefit. Ye perpetuators of Kuru's race, the Earth has become divested of her wealth. Ye kings, Vyasa, therefore, informed us of the wealth (that lies buried in the Earth) of Marutta. If you think that wealth abundant or sufficient, how shall we bring it (to our capital)? What, O Bhima, dost thou think as regards this?" When the king, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, said these words, Bhimasena, joining his hands, said these words in reply,--"The words thou hast said, O thou of mighty-arms, on the subject of bringing the wealth indicated by Vyasa, are approved by me. If, O puissant one, we succeed in getting the wealth kept there by the son of Avikshita, then this sacrifice, O king, purposed by us will be easily accomplished. Even this is what I think. We shall, therefore, bowing our heads unto the high-souled Girisa, and offering due worship unto that deity, bring that wealth. Blessed be thou. Gratifying that god of gods, as also his companions and followers, in words, thought, and deed, we shall, without doubt, obtain that wealth. Those Kinnaras of fierce mien who are protecting that treasure will certainly yield to us if the great deity having the bull for his sign become gratified with us!"--Hearing these words uttered by Bhima, O Bharata, king Yudhishthira the son of Dharma became highly pleased. The others, headed by Arjuna, at the same time, said, "So be it." The Pandavas then, having resolved to bring that wealth, ordered their forces to march under the constellation Dhruba and on the day called by the same name.[179] Causing the Brahmanas to utter benedictions on them, and having duly worshipped the great god Maheswara, the sons of Pandu set out (on their enterprise). Gratifying that high-souled deity with Modakas and frumenty and with cakes made of meat, the sons of Pandu set out with cheerful hearts. While they thus set out, the citizens, and many foremost of Brahmanas, with cheerful hearts, uttered auspicious blessings (on their heads). The Pandavas, circumambulating many Brahmanas that daily worshipped their fires, and bending their heads unto them, proceeded on their journey. Taking the permission of king Dhritarashtra who was afflicted with grief on account of the death of his sons, his queen (Gandhari), and Pritha also of large eyes, and keeping the Kaurava prince Yuyutsu, the son of Dhritarashtra, in the capital, they set out, worshipped by the citizens and by many Brahmanas possessed of great wisdom.'" SECTION LXIV "Vaisampayana said, 'They then set out, with cheerful hearts, and accompanied by men and animals all of whom and which were equally cheerful. They filled the whole Earth with the loud clatter of their wheels. Their praises hymned by eulogists and Sutas and Magadhas and bards, and supported by their own army, they looked like so many Adityas adorned with their own rays. With the white umbrella held over his head, king Yudhishthira shone with beauty like the lord of the stars on the night when he is at full. That foremost of men, the eldest son of Pandu, accepted, with due forms, the blessings and cheers of his gladdened subjects as he proceeded on his way. As regards the soldiers that followed the king, their confused murmurs seemed to fill the entire welkin. That host crossed many lakes and rivers and forests and pleasure gardens. They at last came upon the mountains. Arrived at that region where that wealth was buried, O king, the royal Yudhishthira fixed his camp with all his brothers and troops. The region selected for the purpose, O chief of Bharata's race, was perfectly level and auspicious. There the king pitched his camp, placing in his van such Brahmanas as were endued with penances and learning and self-restraint, as also his priest Agnivesya, O thou of Kuru's race, who was well-conversant with the Vedas and all their branches.[180] Then the royal sons of Pandu, and the other kings (who accompanied that expedition), and the Brahmanas and priests well-skilled in sacrificial rites, having duly performed some propitiatory ceremonies, spread themselves all over that spot. Having duly placed the king and his ministers in the middle, the Brahmanas caused the camp to be pitched by laying out six roads and nine divisions.[181] King Yudhishthira caused a separate encampment to be duly made for the infuriate elephants that accompanied his force. When everything was complete, he addressed the Brahmanas, saying, "Ye foremost of Brahmanas, let that be done which you think should be done in view of the matter at hand. Indeed, let an auspicious day and constellation be fixed for it. Let not a long time pass away over our heads as we wait in suspense here. Ye foremost of learned Brahmanas, having formed this resolution, let that be done which should be done after this." Hearing these words of the king, the Brahmanas with those amongst them that were well-skilled in the performance of religious rites, became filled with gladness and desirous of doing what was agreeable to king Yudhishthira the just, said these words in reply, "This very day is an auspicious one with an auspicious constellation. We shall, therefore, strive to accomplish those high rites we propose. We shall today, O king, live upon water alone. Do you all fast also today." Hearing those words of those foremost Brahmanas, the royal sons of Pandu passed that night, abstaining from all food, and lying confidently on beds of Kusa grass, like blazing fires in a sacrifice. And the night wore away as they listened to the discourses of the learned Brahmanas (on diverse subjects). When the cloudless morning came, those foremost of Brahmanas addressed the royal son of Dharma (saying as follows).'" SECTION LXV "'The Brahmanas said, "Let offerings be made unto the high-souled Mahadeva of three eyes. Having duly dedicated those offerings, O king, we shall then strive to gain our object." Hearing these words of those Brahmanas, Yudhishthira caused offerings to be duly made unto that deity who loved to lie down on mountain-breasts. Gratifying the (sacrificial) fire with (libations of) sanctified butter according to the ordinance, the priest (Dhaumya) cooked Charu with the aid of Mantras and performed the necessary rites. He took up many flowers and sanctified them with Mantras, O king. With Modakas and frumenty and meat, he made offerings to the deity. With diverse kinds of flowers and with fried paddy, of very superior kind, Dhaumya, well-versed in the Vedas, performed the remaining rites. He next presented offerings according to the ordinance unto those ghostly beings who formed Mahadeva's train. And offerings were next made to Kuvera, the chief of the Yakshas, and unto Manibhadra also. Unto the other Yakshas also and unto them that were the foremost ones among the ghostly companions of Mahadeva, the priest offered due worship, having filled many jugs with food, with Krisaras and meat and Nivapas mixed with sesame seeds. The king gave away unto the Brahmanas thousands of kine. He then directed the presentation, according to due rites, of offerings unto those night-wandering beings (who live with Mahadeva). Surcharged, as it were, with the scent of Dhupas, and filled with the fragrance of flowers, that region, sacred to the deity of deities, O king, became exceedingly delightful. Having performed the worship of Rudra and of all the Ganas, the king, placing Vyasa ahead, proceeded towards the place where the treasure was buried. Once more worshipping the Lord of treasures, and bowing unto him with reverence and saluting him properly, with diverse kinds of flowers and cakes and Krisara, having worshipped those foremost of gems, viz., Sankha and Nidhi, and those Yakshas who are the lords of gems, and having worshipped many foremost of Brahmanas and caused them to utter blessings, the king endued with great puissance, strengthened by the energy and the auspicious benedictions of those Brahmanas, caused that spot to be excavated. Then numerous vessels of diverse and delightful forms, and Bhringaras and Katahas and Kalasas and Bardhamanakas, and innumerable Bhajanas of beautiful forms, were dug out by king Yudhishthira the just. The wealth thus dug out was placed in large "Karaputas" for protection.[182] A portion of the wealth was caused to be borne upon the shoulders of men in stout balances of wood with baskets slung like scales at both ends. Indeed, O king, there were other methods of conveyance there for bearing away that wealth of the son of Pandu.[183] There were sixty thousands of camels and a hundred and twenty thousand horses, and of elephants, O monarch, there were one hundred thousand. Of cars there were as many, and of carts, too as many, and of she-elephants as many. Of mules and men the number was untold. That wealth which Yudhishthira caused to be dug out was even so much. Sixteen thousand coins were placed on the back of each camel; eight thousand on each car; four and twenty thousand on each elephant; (while proportionate loads were placed on horses and mules and on the backs, shoulder and heads of men). Having loaded these vehicles with that wealth and once more worshipping the great deity Siva, the son of Pandu set out for the city called after the elephant, with the permission of the Island-born Rishi, and placing his priest Dhaumya in the van. That foremost of men, viz., the royal son of Pandu, made short marches every day, measured by a Goyuta (4 miles). That mighty host, O king, afflicted with the weight they bore, returned, bearing that wealth, towards the capital, gladdening the hearts of all those perpetuators of the Kuru race.'" SECTION LXVI "Vaisampayana said, 'Meanwhile, Vasudeva of great energy accompanied by the Vrishnis, came to the city called after the elephant. While leaving that city for returning to his own Dwaraka, he had been requested by the son of Dharma to come back. Hence, knowing that the time fixed for the horse-sacrifice had come, that foremost of men came back (to the Kuru capital). Accompanied by the son of Rukmini, by Yuyudhana, by Charudeshna, by Samva, by Gada, by Kritavarman, by the heroic Sarana, by Nisatha, and by the Unmukha, Vasudeva came with Valadeva at the head of the train, with Subhadra also accompanying him. Indeed, that hero came for seeing Draupadi and Uttara and Pirtha and for comforting those Kshatriya ladies of distinction who had been bereft of many of their protectors. Beholding those heroes come, king Dhritarashtra, as also the high-souled Vidura, received them with due honours. That foremost of men, viz., Krishna of great energy, well adored by Vidura and Yuyutsu, continued to reside in the Kuru capital. It was while the Vrishni heroes, O Janamejaya, were residing in the Kuru city, O king, that thy sire, that slayer of hostile heroes, was born. The royal Parikshit, O monarch, afflicted by the Brahma weapon (of Aswatthaman), upon coming out of the womb, lay still and motionless, for life he had not. By his birth he had gladdened the citizens but soon plunged them into grief. The citizens, learning of the birth of the prince, uttered a leonine shout. That noise proceeded to the utmost verge of every point of the compass. Soon, however, (when it was known that the prince was bereft of life), that noise ceased. With great haste Krishna, his senses and mind considerably affected, with Yuyudhana in his company, entered the inner apartments of the palace. He beheld his own paternal aunt (Kunti) coming, loudly weeping and calling upon him repeatedly. Behind her were Draupadi and the famous Subhadra, and the wives of the relatives of the Pandavas, all weeping piteously. Meeting Krishna, Kunti, that daughter of the Bhoja race, said unto him, O foremost of monarchs, these words in a voice chocked with tears, "O Vasudeva, O mighty-armed hero, Devaki by having borne thee, has come to be regarded as an excellent genetrix. Thou art our refuge, and our glory. This race (of Pandu) depends upon thee for its protector. O Yadava hero, O puissant one, this child of thy sister's son, has come out of the womb, slain by Aswatthaman. O Kesava, do thou revive him. O delighter of the Yadavas, even this was vowed by thee, O puissant one, when Aswatthaman had inspired the blade of grass into a Brahma-weapon of mighty energy. Indeed, O Kesava, thy words were even these, 'I shall revive that child if he comes out of the womb dead.'--That child, O son, has been born dead. Behold him, O foremost of men. It behoveth thee, O Madhava, to rescue Uttara and Subhadra and Draupadi and myself, and Dharma's son (Yudhishthira), and Bhima and Phalguna, and Nakula, and the irresistible Sahadeva. In this child are bound the life-breaths of the Pandavas and myself. O thou of the Dasarha race, on him depends the obsequial cake of Pandu, as also of my father-in-law, and of Abhimanyu too, blessed be thou, that darling nephew of thine who was so very like unto thee. Do thou accomplish today what will be beneficial to all these. I urge thee earnestly, O Janarddana. Uttara, O slayer of foes, always repeats the words said unto her by Abhimanyu. Without doubt, O Krishna, those words were highly agreeable to her. O thou of the Dasarha race, Arjuna's son said unto this daughter of Virata,--'Thy son, O blessed girl, will go to my maternal uncles. Taking up his residence with the Vrishnis and Andhakas, he will obtain from them the science of arms, indeed, diverse wonderful weapons and the whole of the science of politics and morality.' Even these were the words, O son, that that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., the son of Subhadra, that irresistible hero, said unto Uttara, from his affection for her. O slayer of Madhu, bowing our heads unto thee, we pray thee for making those words of Abhimanyu true. In view also of the time that has come, do thou accomplish what is highly beneficial." Having said these words unto that hero of the Vrishni's race, Pritha of large eyes, raised her arms upwards and with the other ladies in her company, fell down on the Earth. All of them, with eyes rendered muddy by tears, repeatedly exclaimed, saying, "Alas, the son of Vasudeva's nephew has been born dead." After Kunti had said so, Janarddana took hold of her, O Bharata, and gently raising her from the Earth, comforted her as follows.'" SECTION LXVII "Vaisampayana said, 'After Kunti had sat up, Subhadra, beholding her brother, began to weep aloud, and afflicted with excessive grief, said,--"O thou of eyes like lotus petals, behold the grandson of Arjuna of great intelligence. Alas, the Kuru race having been thinned, a child has been born that is feeble and dead. The blade of grass (inspired into a weapon of great efficacy), uplifted by Drona's son for compassing the destruction of Bhimasena, fell upon Uttara and Vijaya and myself.[184] Alas, that blade, O Kesava, is still existing unextracted in me, after having pierced my heart, since I do not, O irresistible hero, behold this child with (his sire who was) my son. What will the righteous-souled king Yudhishthira the just say? What will Bhimasena and Arjuna and the two sons of Madravati also say? Hearing that Abhimanyu's son was born and found dead, the Pandavas, O thou of Vrishni's race, will regard themselves as cheated by Aswatthaman. Abhimanyu, O Krishna, was the favourite of all the Pandava brothers, without doubt. Hearing this intelligence, what will those heroes, vanquished by the weapon of Drona's son say? What grief, O Janarddana, can be greater than this viz., that Abhimanyu's son should be born dead! Bowing unto thee with my head, O Krishna, I seek to gratify thee today. Behold, O foremost of men, these two standing here, viz., Pritha and Draupadi. When, O Madhava, the son of Drona sought to destroy the embryos even in the wombs of the ladies of the Pandavas, at that time, O grinder of foes, thou saidst in wrath unto Drona's son (ever these words), 'O wretch of a Brahmana, O vilest of men, I shall disappoint thy wish. I shall revive the son of Kiritin's son.' Hearing these words of thine and well knowing thy puissance, I seek to gratify thee, O irresistible hero. Let the son of Abhimanyu be revived. If having pledged thyself previously thou dost not accomplish thy auspicious vow, do thou then know for certain, O chief of the Vrishni race, that I shall cast off my life. If, O hero, this son of Abhimanyu doth not revive when thou, O irresistible one, art alive and near, of what other use wilt thou be to me? Do thou, therefore, O irresistible one, revive this son of Abhimanyu,--this child possessed of eyes similar to his,--even as a rain-charged cloud revives the lifeless crops (on a field). Thou, O Kesava, art righteous-souled, truthful, and of prowess incapable of being baffled. It behoveth thee, O chastiser of foes, to make thy words truthful. If only thou wishest it, thou canst revive the three worlds (of being) if dead. What need I say, therefore, of this darling child, born but dead, of thy sister's son? I know thy puissance, O Krishna. Therefore, do I solicit thee. Do thou show this great favour to the sons of Pandu. It behoveth thee, O mighty-armed one, to show compassion to this Uttara or to me, thinking that I am thy sister or even a mother that hath lost her son, and one that hath thrown herself upon thy protection."'" SECTION LXVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed, O king, (by his sister and others), the slayer of Kesin, exceedingly afflicted by grief, answered,--"So be it!"--These words were uttered with sufficient loudness and they gladdened all the inmates of the inner apartments of the palace. The puissant Krishna, that foremost of men, by uttering these words, gladdened all the people assembled there, like one pouring cold water on a person afflicted with sweat. He then quickly entered the lying-in room in which thy sire was born. It was duly sanctified, O chief of men, with many garlands of white flowers, with many well-filled water pots arranged on every side; with charcoal, soaked in ghee, of Tinduka wood, and mustard seeds, O thou of mighty arms; with shining weapons properly arrayed, and several fires on every side. And it was peopled by many agreeable and aged dames summoned for waiting (upon thy grandmother). It was also surrounded by many well-skilled and clever physicians, O thou of great intelligence. Endued with great energy, he also saw there all articles that are destructive of Rakshasas, duly placed by persons conversant with the subject. Beholding the lying-in room in which thy sire was born thus equipt, Hrishikesa became very glad and said,--"Excellent, Excellent!" When he of Vrishni's race said so and presented such a cheerful countenance, Draupadi, repairing thither with great speed, addressed the daughter of Virata, saying,--"O blessed lady, here comes to thee thy father-in-law, the slayer of Madhu, that ancient Rishi of inconceivable soul, that unvanquished one."--Virata's daughter, checking her tears, said these words in a voice suffocated with grief. Covering herself properly, the princess waited for Krishna like the deities reverentially waiting for him. The helpless lady, with heart agitated by grief, beholding Govinda coming, indulged in these lamentations, "O lotus-eyed one, behold us two deprived of our child. O Janarddana, both Abhimanyu and myself have been equally slain. O thou of Vrishni's race, O slayer of Madhu, I seek to gratify thee by bending my head, O hero, unto thee. Do thou revive this child of mine that has been consumed by the weapon of Drona's son. If king Yudhishthira the just, or Bhimasena, or thyself, O lotus-eyed one, had, on that occasion, said, 'Let the blade of grass (inspired by Aswatthaman into a Brahma-weapon) destroy the unconscious mother'--O puissant one, then I would have been destroyed and this (sad occurrence) would not have happened. Alas, what benefit has been reaped by Drona's son by accomplishing this cruel deed, viz., the destruction of the child in the womb by his Brahma-weapon. The self-same mother now seeks to gratify thee, O slayer of foes, by bending her head. Surely, O Govinda, I shall cast off my life-breaths if this child does not revive. In him, O righteous one, were placed many expectations by me. Alas, when these have been frustrated by Drona's son, what need have I, O Kesava, to bear, the burden of life? The hope, O Krishna, was cherished by me that with my child on my lap, O Janarddana, I would salute thee with reverence. Alas, O Kesava, that hope has been destroyed. O foremost of all beings, at the death of this heir of Abhimanyu of restless eyes, all the hopes in my breast have been destroyed. Abhimanyu of restless eyes, O slayer of Madhu, was exceedingly dear to thee. Behold this child of his slain by the Brahma-weapon. This child is very ungrateful and very heartless, like his sire, for, behold, disregarding the prosperity and affluence of the Pandavas, he has gone to Yama's abode. I had, before this, vowed, O Kesava, that if Abhimanyu fell on the field of battle, O hero, I would follow him without any loss of time. I did not, however, keep my vow, cruel that I am and fond of life. If I repair to him now, what, indeed, will Phalguna's son say?"'" SECTION LXIX "Vaisampayana said, 'The helpless Uttara, desirous of getting back her child, having indulged in these piteous lamentations, fell down in affliction on the earth like a demented creature. Beholding the princess fallen on the earth deprived of her son and with her body uncovered, Kunti as also all the (other) Bharata ladies deeply afflicted, began to weep aloud. Resounding with the voice of lamentation, the palace of the Pandavas, O king, was soon converted into a mansion of sorrow where nobody could remain. Exceedingly afflicted by grief on account of her son, Virata's daughter, O king, seemed to be struck down for some time by sorrow and cheerlessness. Regaining consciousness, O chief of Bharata's race, Uttara took up her child on her lap and said these words: "Thou art the child of one who was conversant with every duty. Art thou not conscious then of the sin thou committest, since thou dost not salute this foremost one of the Vrishni's race? O son, repairing to thy sire tell him these words of mine, viz.,--it is difficult for living creatures to die before their time comes, since though reft of thee, my husband, and now deprived of my child also, I am yet alive when I should die, unendued as I am with everything auspicious and everything possessed of value.--O mighty-armed one, with the permission of king Yudhishthira the just I shall swallow some virulent poison or cast myself on the blazing fire. O sire, difficult of destruction is my heart since, though I am deprived of husband and child, that heart of mine does not yet break into a thousand pieces. Rise, O son and behold this thy afflicted great-grandmother. She is deeply afflicted with grief, bathed in tears, exceedingly cheerless, and plunged in an ocean of sorrow. Behold the reverend princess of Panchala, and the helpless princess of the Satwata race. Behold myself, exceedingly afflicted with grief, and resembling a deer pierced by a hunter. Rise, O child, and behold the face of this lord of the worlds, that is endued with great wisdom, and possessed of eyes like lotus-petals and resembling thy sire of restless glance." Beholding Uttara, who indulged in these lamentations, fallen on the earth, all those ladies, raising her, caused her to sit up. Having sat up, the daughter of the king of the Matsyas, summoning her patience, joined her hands in reverence and touched the earth with her head for saluting Kesava of eyes like the petals of the lotus. That foremost of beings, hearing those heart-rending lamentations of hers, touched water and withdrew the (force of the) Brahma-weapon.[185] That hero of unfading glory, belonging to the race of the Dasarhas, promised to give the child his life. Then he of pure soul, said these words in the hearing of the whole universe,--"O Uttara, I never utter an untruth. My words will prove true. I shall revive this child in the presence of all creatures. Never before have I uttered an untruth even in jest. Never have I turned back from battle. (By the merit of those acts) let this child revive! As righteousness is dear to me, as Brahmanas are specially dear to me, (by the merit of that disposition of mine) let Abhimanyu's son, who is born dead, revive! Never hath a misunderstanding arisen between me and my friend Vijaya. Let this dead child revive by that truth! As truth and righteousness are always established in me, let this dead child of Abhimanyu revive (by the merit of these)! As Kansa and Kesi have been righteously slain by me, let this child revive today by that truth!" After these words were uttered by Vasudeva, that child, O foremost one of Bharata's race, became animate and began gradually to move, O monarch.'" SECTION LXX "Vaisampayana said, 'When the Brahma-weapon was withdrawn by Krishna, at that time, the laying-in room was illumined by thy father with his energy. All the Rakshasas (that had come there) were forced to leave the room and many of them met with destruction. In the welkin a voice was heard, saying, "Excellent, O Kesava, Excellent!"--The blazing Brahma-weapon then returned to the Grandsire (of all the worlds). Thy sire got back his life-breaths, O king. The child began to move according to his energy and might. The Bharata ladies became filled with joy. At the command of Govinda, the Brahmanas were made to utter benedictions. All the ladies, filled with joy, praised Janarddana. Indeed, the wives of those Bharata lions, viz., Kunti and Drupada's daughter and Subhadra, and Uttara, and the wives of other lions among men, like (ship-wrecked) persons who have reached the shore after having obtained a boat, became exceedingly glad. Then wrestlers and actors and astrologers and those who enquire after the slumbers (of princes), and bands of bards and eulogists all uttered the praises of Janarddana, while uttering benedictions fraught with the praises of the Kuru race, O chief of the Bharatas. Uttara, rising up at the proper time, with a delighted heart and bearing her child in her arms, reverentially saluted the delighter of the Yadus. Rejoicing greatly, Krishna made gifts unto the child of many valuable gems. The other chiefs of the Vrishni race, did the same. Then the puissant Janarddana, firmly adhering to truth, bestowed a name on the infant who was thy sire, O monarch.--"Since this child of Abhimanyu has been born at a time when this race has become nearly extinct, let his name be Parikshit!" Even this is what he said. Then thy father, O king, began to grow, and gladden all the people, O Bharata. When thy father was a month old, O hero, the Pandavas came back to their capital, bringing with them a profusion of wealth. Hearing that the Pandavas were near, those foremost ones of the Vrishni race went out. The citizens decked the city called after the elephant with garlands of flowers in profusions, with beautiful pennons and standards of diverse kinds. The citizens also, O king, adorned their respective mansions. Desirous of doing what was beneficial to the sons of Pandu, Vidura ordered diverse kinds of worship to be offered to the deities established in their respective temples. The principal streets of the city were adorned with flowers. Indeed, the city was filled with the hum of thousands of voices which resembled the softened roar of distant ocean waves. With dancers all engaged in their vocation, and with the voice of singers, the (Kuru) city then resembled the mansion of Vaisravana himself.[186] Bards and eulogists, O king, accompanied by beautiful women were seen to adorn diverse retired spots in the city. The pennons were caused by the wind to float gaily on every part of the city, as if bent upon showing the Kurus the southern and the northern points of the compass. All the officers also of the government loudly proclaimed that that was to be a day of rejoicing for the entire kingdom as an indication of the success of the enterprise for bringing a profusion of gems and other valuables.'"[187] SECTION LXXI "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing that the Pandavas were near, that crusher of foes, viz., Vasudeva, accompanied by his ministers, went out for seeing them. "'The Pandavas then, uniting with the Vrishnis according to the usual formalities, together entered, O king, the city named after the elephant. With the hum of voices and the clatter of cars of that mighty host, the Earth and the welkin, and the firmament itself, became as it were entirely filled. The Pandavas, with rejoicing hearts, accompanied by their officers and friends entered the capital, placing that treasure in their van. Repairing, agreeably to custom, to king Dhritarashtra first, they worshipped his feet, announcing their respective names. Those foremost ones of Bharata's race, O chief of kings, then paid their respectful salutations to Gandhari, the daughter of Suvala and to Kunti. They next worshipped (their uncle) Vidura and met Yuyutsu, the son of Dhritarashtra by his Vaisya wife. Those heroes were then worshipped by others and they blazed forth in beauty, O king. After this, O Bharata, those heroes heard the tidings of that highly wonderful and marvellous and glad-some birth of thy father. Hearing of that feat of Vasudeva of great intelligence, they all worshipped Krishna, the delighter of Devaki, who was every way worthy of worship. Then, after a few days, Vyasa, the son of Satyavati, endued with great energy, came to the city named after the elephant. The perpetuators of Kuru's race worshipped the great Rishi according to the usual custom. Indeed, those heroes, with those foremost princes of the Vrishni and the Andhaka races, paid the sage their adorations. After having conversed on various subjects, Dharma's son Yudhishthira addressed Vyasa and said, "This treasure, O holy one, which has been brought through thy grace I wish to devote to that great sacrifice known by the name of the horse-sacrifice. O best of ascetics, I desire to have thy permission. We are all, O Rishi, at thy disposal, and at that of the high-souled Krishna." "'Vyasa said, "I give thee permission, O king. Do what should be done after this. Do thou worship the deities duly by performing the horse-sacrifice with profuse gifts. The horse-sacrifice, O king, is a cleanser of all sins. Without doubt, having worshipped the deities by that sacrifice thou wilt surely be cleansed of all sins."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, the Kuru king Yudhisthira of righteous soul then set his heart, O monarch, on making the necessary preparations for the horse-sacrifice. Having represented all this unto the Island-born Krishna, the king endued with great eloquence approached Vasudeva and said,--"O foremost of all beings, the goddess Devaki has, through thee, come to be regarded as the most fortunate of mothers! O thou of unfading glory, do thou accomplish that which I shall now tell thee, O mighty-armed one. O delighter of the Kurus, the diverse enjoyments we enjoy have all been acquired through thy puissance. The whole Earth has been subjugated by thee with the aid of thy prowess and intelligence. Do thou, therefore, cause thyself to undergo the rites of initiation. Thou art our highest preceptor and master. If thou performest the sacrifice, O thou of the Dasarha race, I shall be cleansed from every sin. Thou art Sacrifice. Thou art the Indestructible. Thou art this All. Thou art Righteousness. Thou art Prajapati. Thou art the goal of all creatures. Even this is my certain conclusion." "'Vasudeva said, "O mighty-armed one, it becomes thee to say so, O chastiser of foes. Thou art the goal of all creatures. Even this is my certain conclusion. Amongst the heroes of the Kuru race, in consequence of thy righteousness, thou shinest today in great glory. They have all been cast into the shade, O king, by thee. Thou art our king, and thou art our senior. With my approval freely granted, do thou adore the deities in the sacrifice suggested. Do thou, O Bharata, appoint us to whatever tasks thou likest. Truly, do I pledge myself that I shall accomplish all, O sinless one, that thou mayst bid me accomplish. Bhimasena and Arjuna and the two sons of Madravati will be sacrificing when thou, O king, sacrificest."'"[188] SECTION LXXII "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by Krishna, Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, endued with great intelligence, saluted Vyasa and said these words: "Do thou cause me to be initiated when the proper hour, as thou truly knowest, comes for that rite. This my sacrifice is entirely dependent on thee." "'Vyasa said, "Myself, O son of Kunti, and Paila and Yajnavalkya, shall without doubt, achieve every rite at the proper time. The rite of initiating thee will be performed on the day of full moon belonging to the month of Chaitra. Let all the necessaries of the sacrifice, O foremost of men, be got ready. Let Sutas well-versed in the science of horses, and let Brahmanas also possessed of the same lore, select, after examination, a worthy horse in order that thy sacrifice may be completed. Loosening the animal according to the injunctions of the scriptures, let him wander over the whole Earth with her belt of seas, displaying thy blazing glory, O king!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed (by the Rishi), Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, that lord of Earth, answered,--"So be it!"--and then, O monarch, he accomplished all that that utterer of Brahma had directed. All the articles necessary for the sacrifice, O king, were duly procured. The royal son of Dharma, possessed of immeasurable soul, having procured all the necessaries, informed the Island-born Krishna of it. Then Vyasa of great energy said unto the royal son of Dharma,--"As regards ourselves, we are all prepared to initiate thee in view of the sacrifice. Let the Sphya and the Kurcha and all the other articles that, O thou of Kuru's race, may be needed for thy sacrifice, be made of gold.[189] Let the horse also be loosened today, for roaming on the Earth, agreeably to the ordinances of the scriptures. Let the animal, duly protected, wander over the Earth." "'Yudhishthira said, "Let arrangements be made by thee, O regenerate one, about loosening this horse for enabling it to wander over the Earth at its will. It behoveth thee, O ascetic, to say who will protect this steed while roaming over the Earth freely according to its will."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed (by king Yudhishthira), O monarch, the Island-born Krishna said,--"He who is born after Bhimasena, who is the foremost of all bowmen, who is called Jishnu, who is endued with great patience and capable of overcoming all resistance,--he will protect the horse. That destroyer of the Nivatakavachas is competent to conquer the whole Earth. In him are all celestial weapons. His body is like that of a celestial in its powers of endurance. His bow and quivers are celestial. Even he will follow this horse.--He is well versed in both Religion and wealth. He is a master of all the sciences. O foremost of kings, he will agreeably to the scriptures, cause the steed to roam and graze at its will. This mighty-armed prince, of dark complexion, is endued with eyes resembling the petals of the lotus. That hero, the father of Abhimanyu, will protect the steed. Bhimasena also is endued with great energy. The son of Kunti is possessed of immeasurable might. He is competent to protect the kingdom, aided by Nakula, O monarch. Possessed of great intelligence and fame, Sahadeva will, O thou of Kuru's race, duly attend to all the relatives that have been invited to thy capital." Thus addressed by the Rishi, that perpetuator of Kuru's race, viz., Yudhishthira, accomplished every injunction duly and appointed Phalguna to attend to the horse. "'Yudhishthira said, "Come, O Arjuna, let the horse, O hero, be protected by thee. Thou alone art competent to protect it, and none else. Those kings, O mighty-armed hero, who will come forward to encounter thee, try, O sinless one, to avoid battles with them to the best of thy power. Thou shouldst also invite them all to this sacrifice of mine. Indeed, O mighty-armed one go forth but try to establish friendly relations with them."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The righteous-souled king Yudhishthira, having said so unto his brother Savyasachin, commanded Bhima and Nakula to protect the city. With the permission of king Dhritarashtra, Yudhishthira then set Sahadeva, that foremost of warriors, to wait upon all the invited guests.'" SECTION LXXIII "Vaisampayana said, 'When the hour for initiation came, all those great Ritwijas duly initiated the king in view of the horse-sacrifice. Having finished the rites of binding the sacrificial animals, the son of Pandu, viz., king Yudhishthira the just endued with great energy, the initiation being over, shone with great splendour along with those Ritwijas. The horse that was brought for the horse-sacrifice was let loose, agreeably to the injunctions of the scriptures, that utterer of Brahma, viz., Vyasa himself of immeasurable energy. The king Yudhishthira the just, O monarch, after his initiation, adorned with a garland of gold around his neck, shone in beauty like a blazing fire. Having a black deer skin for his upper garment, bearing a staff in hand, and wearing a cloth of red silk, the son of Dharma, possessed of great splendour, shone like a second Prajapati seated on the sacrificial altar. All his Ritwijas also, O king, were clad in similar robes. Arjuna also shone like a blazing fire. Dhananjaya, unto whose car were yoked white steeds, then duly prepared, O king, to follow that horse of the complexion of a black deer, at the command of Yudhishthira. Repeatedly drawing his bow, named Gandiva, O king, and casing his hand in a fence made of iguana skin, Arjuna, O monarch, prepared to follow that horse, O ruler of men, with a cheerful heart. All Hastinapore, O king, with very children, came out at that spot from desire of beholding Dhananjaya, that foremost of the Kurus on the eve of his journey. So thick was the crowd of spectators that came to behold the horse and the prince who was to follow it, that in consequence of the pressure of bodies, it seemed a fire was created. Loud was the noise that arose from that crowd of men who assembled together for beholding Dhananjaya the son of Kunti, and it seemed to fill all the points of the compass and the entire welkin. And they said,--"There goes the son of Kunti, and there that horse of blazing beauty. Indeed, the mighty-armed hero follows the horse, having armed himself with his excellent bow."--Even these were the words which Jishnu of noble intelligence heard. The citizens also blessed him, saying,--"Let blessings be thine! Go thou safely and come back, O Bharata." Others, O chief of men uttered these words--"So great is the press that we do not see Arjuna. His bow, however, is visible to us. Even that is celebrated bow Gandiva of terrible twang. Blessed be thou. Let all dangers fly from thy path. Let fear nowhere inspire thee. When he returns we shall behold him, for it is certain that he will come back." The high-souled Arjuna repeatedly heard these and similar other sweet words of men and women, O chief of the Bharatas. A disciple of Yajnavalkya, who was well-versed in all sacrificial rites and who was a complete master of the Vedas, proceeded with Partha for performing auspicious rites in favour of the hero. Many Brahmanas also, O king, all well-conversant with the Vedas, and many Kshatriyas too, followed the high-souled hero, at the command, O monarch, of Yudhishthira the just. The horse then roamed, O foremost of men, wherever he liked over the Earth already conquered by Pandavas with the energy of their weapons. In course of the horse's wanderings, O king, many great and wonderful battles were fought between Arjuna and many kings. These I shall describe to thee. The horse, O king, roamed over the whole Earth. Know, O monarch, that from the north it turned towards the East. Grinding the kingdoms of many monarchs that excellent horse wandered. And it was followed slowly by the great car-warrior Arjuna of white steeds. Countless, O monarch, was the fete of Kshatriyas,--of kings in myriads--who fought with Arjuna on that occasion, for having lost their kinsmen on the field of Kurukshetra. Innumerable Kiratas also, O king, and Yavanas, all excellent bowmen, and diverse tribes of Mlechcchas too, who had been discomfited before (by the Pandavas on the field of Kurukshetra), and many Aryan kings, possessed of soldiers and animals endued with great alacrity, and all irresistible in fight encountered the son of Pandu in battle. Thus occurred innumerable battles in diverse countries, O monarch, between Arjuna and the rulers of diverse realms who came to encounter him. I shall, O sinless king, narrate to thee those battles only which raged with great fury and which were the principal ones among all he fought.'" SECTION LXXIV "Vaisampayana said. 'A battle took place between the diadem-decked (Arjuna) and the sons and grandsons of the Trigartas whose hostility the Pandavas has incurred before and all of whom were well-known as mighty car-warriors. Having learnt that that foremost of steeds, which was intended for the sacrifice, had come to their realm, these heroes, casing themselves in mail, surrounded Arjuna. Mounted on their cars, drawn by excellent and well-decked horses, and with quivers on their backs, they surrounded that horse, O king, and endeavoured to capture it. The diadem-decked Arjuna, reflecting on that endeavour of theirs, forbade those heroes, with conciliatory speeches, O chastiser of foes. Disregarding Arjuna's message, they assailed him with their shafts. The diadem-decked Arjuna resisted those warriors who were under the sway of darkness and passion. Jishnu addressed them smilingly and said, "Desist, ye unrighteous ones. Life is a benefit (that should not be thrown away)." At the time of his setting out, he had been earnestly ordered by king Yudhishthira the just, not to slay those Kshatriyas whose kinsmen had been slain before on the field of Kurukshetra. Recollecting these commands of king Yudhishthira the just who was endued with great intelligence, Arjuna asked the Trigartas to forbear. But they disregarded Arjuna's injunction. Then Arjuna vanquished Suryavarman, the king of the Trigartas, in battle, by shooting countless shafts at him and laughed in scorn. The Trigarta warriors, however, filling the ten points with the clatter of their cars and car-wheels, rushed towards Dhananjaya. Then Suryavarman, displaying his great lightness of hand, pierced Dhananjaya with hundreds of straight arrows, O monarch. The other great bowmen who followed the king and who were all desirous of compassing the destruction of Dhananjaya, shot showers of arrows on him. With countless shafts shot from his own bow-string, the son of Pandu, O king, cut off those clouds of arrows; upon which they fell down. Endued with great energy, Ketuvarman, the younger brother of Suryavarman, and possessed of youthful vigour, fought, for the sake of his brother, against Pandu's son possessed of great fame. Beholding Ketuvarman approaching towards him for battle, Vibhatsu, that slayer of hostile heroes, slew him with many sharp-pointed arrows. Upon Ketuvarman's fall, the mighty car-warrior Dhritavarman, rushing on his car towards Arjuna, showered a perfect downpour of arrows on him. Beholding that lightness of hand displayed by the youth Dhritavarman, Gudakesa of mighty energy and great prowess became highly gratified with him. The son of Indra could not see when the young warrior took out his arrows and when he placed them on his bow-string aiming at him. He only saw showers of arrows in the air. For a brief space of time, Arjuna gladdened his enemy and mentally admired his heroism and skill. The Kuru hero, smiling the while, fought with that youth who resembled an angry snake. The mighty armed Dhananjaya, glad as he was in beholding the valour of Dhritavarman, did not take his life. While, however, Partha of immeasurable energy fought mildly with him without wishing to take his life, Dhritavarman shot a blazing arrow at him. Deeply pierced in the hand by that arrow, Vijaya became stupefied and his bow Gandiva fell down on the Earth from his relaxed grasp. The form of that bow, O king, when it fell from the grasp of Arjuna, resembled, O Bharata, that of the bow of Indra (that is seen in the welkin after a shower). When that great and celestial bow fell down, O monarch, Dhritavarman laughed loudly in battle. At this, Jishnu, excited with rage, wiped the blood from his hand and once more taking up his bow, showered a perfect downpour of arrows. Then a loud and confused noise arose, filling the welkin and touching the very heavens as it were, from diverse creatures who applauded that feat of Dhananjaya. Beholding Jishnu inflamed with rage and looking like Yama himself as he appears at the end of the Yuga, the Trigarta warriors hastily surrounded him, rushing from their posts and desirous of rescuing Dhritavarman. Seeing himself surrounded by his foes, Arjuna became more angry than before. He then quickly despatched eight and ten of their foremost warriors with many shafts of hard iron that resembled the arrows of the great Indra himself. The Trigarta warriors then began to fly. Seeing them retreat, Dhananjaya, with great speed, shot many shafts at them that resembled wrathful snakes of virulent poison, and laughed aloud. The mighty car-warriors of the Trigartas, with dispirited hearts, fled in all directions, exceedingly afflicted by Dhananjaya with his arrows. They then addressed that tiger among men, that slayer of the Samsaptaka host (on the field of Kurukshetra), saying, "We are your slaves. We yield to thee.[190] Do thou command us, O Partha. Lo, we wait here as the most docile of thy servants. O delighter of the Kurus, we shall execute all thy commands." Hearing these words expressive of their submission, Dhananjaya, said unto them, "Do ye, O kings, save your lives, and accept my dominion."'" SECTION LXXV "Vaisampayana said, 'That foremost of steeds then proceeded to the realm of Pragjyotisha and began to wander there. At this, Bhagadatta's son, who was exceedingly valorous in battle, came out (for encountering Arjuna). King Vajradatta, O chief of the Bharatas, finding the (sacrificial) steed arrived within his realm, fought (for detaining it). The royal son of Bhagadatta, issuing out of his city, afflicted the steed that was coming (and seizing it), marched back towards his own place. Marking this, the mighty-armed chief of the Kuru race, speedily stretched his Gandiva, and suddenly rushed towards his foe. Stupefied by the shafts sped from Gandiva, the heroic son of Bhagadatta, letting off loose the steed, fled from Partha.[191] Once more entering his capital, that foremost of kings, irresistible in battle, cased himself in mail, and mounting on his prince of elephants, came out. That mighty car-warrior had a white umbrella held over his head, and was fanned with a milk-white yak-tail. Impelled by childishness and folly, he challenged Partha, the mighty car-warrior of the Pandavas, famed for terrible deeds in battle, to an encounter with him. The enraged prince then urged towards Arjuna that elephant of his, which resembled a veritable mountain, and from whose temples and mouth issued streams of juice indicative of excitement. Indeed, that elephant showered its secretions like a mighty mass of clouds pouring rain. Capable of resisting hostile feats of its own species, it had been equipped agreeably to the ordinances of the treatises (on war-elephants). Irresistible in battle, it had become so infuriate as to be beyond control. Urged on by the prince with the iron-hook, that mighty elephant then seemed (as it advanced) as if it would cut through the welkin (like a flying hill). Beholding it advance towards him, O king, Dhananjaya, filled with rage and standing on the earth, O Bharata, encountered the prince on its back. Filled with wrath, Vajradatta quickly sped at Arjuna a number of broad-headed shafts endued with the energy of fire and resembling (as they coursed through the air) a cloud of speedily-moving locusts. Arjuna, however, with shafts sped from Gandiva, cut off those arrows, some into two and some into three pieces. He cut them off in the welkin itself with those shafts of his coursing through the welkin. The son of Bhagadatta, beholding his broad-headed shafts thus cut off, quickly sped at Arjuna a number of other arrows in a continuous line. Filled with rage at this, Arjuna, more quickly than before, shot at Bhagadatta's son a number of straightly coursing arrows equipt with golden wings. Vajradatta of mighty energy, struck with great force and pierced with these arrows in that fierce encounter, fell down on the Earth. Consciousness, however, did not desert him. Mounting on his prince of elephants again in the midst of that battle the son of Bhagadatta, desirous of victory, very coolly sped a number of shafts at Arjuna. Filled with wrath, Jishnu then sped at the prince a number of arrows that looked like blazing flames of fire and that seemed to be so many snakes of virulent poison. Pierced therewith, the mighty elephant, emitting a large quantity of blood, looked like a mountain of many springs discharging rills of water coloured with red chalk.'" SECTION LXXVI "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus waged that battle, O chief of the Bharatas, for three days between Arjuna and that prince like the encounter between him of a hundred sacrifices and Vritra. On the fourth day, Vajradatta of great might laughed loudly and, addressing Arjuna, said these words: "Wait, wait, O Arjuna. Thou shalt not escape me with life. Slaying thee I shall duly discharge the water-rite of my sire. My aged sire, Bhagadatta, who was the friend of thy sire, was slain by thee in consequence of his weight of years. Do thou, however, fight me that am but a boy!"[192] Having said these words, O thou of Kuru's race, king Vajradatta, filled with rage, urged his elephant towards the son of Pandu. Urged on by Vajradatta of great intelligence, that prince of elephants, as if desirous of cutting through the welkin, rushed towards Dhananjaya. That prince of elephants drenched Arjuna with a shower of juice emitted from the end of his trunk, like a mass of blue clouds drenching a hill with its downpour. Indeed, urged on by the king, the elephant, repeatedly roaring like a cloud, rushed towards Phalguna, with that deep noise emitted from its mouth. Verily, urged on by Vajradatta, that prince of elephants quickly moved towards the mighty car-warrior of the Kurus, with the tread of one that seemed to dance in excitement. Beholding that beast of Vajradatta advance towards him, that slayer of foes, viz., the mighty Dhananjaya, relying on Gandiva, stood his ground without shaking with fear. Recollecting what an obstacle Vajradatta was proving to the accomplishment of his task, and remembering the old enmity of the house (of Pragjyotisha towards the Pandavas), the son of Pandu became exceedingly inflamed with wrath against the king. Filled with rage, Dhananjaya impeded the course of that beast with a shower of arrows like the shore resisting the surging sea. That prince of elephants possessed of beauty (of form), thus impeded by Arjuna, stopped in its course, with body pierced with many an arrow, like a porcupine with its quills erect. Seeing his elephant impeded in its course, the royal son of Bhagadatta, deprived of sense by rage, shot many whetted arrows at Arjuna. The mighty-armed Arjuna baffled all those arrows with many foe-slaying shafts of his. The feat seemed to be exceedingly wonderful. Once more the king of the Pragjyotishas, inflamed with ire, forcibly urged his elephant, which resembled a mountain, at Arjuna. Beholding the beast once more advancing towards him, Arjuna shot with great strength a shaft at it that resembled a veritable flame of fire. Struck deeply in the very vitals, O king, by the son of Pandu, the beast suddenly fell down on the Earth like a mountain summit loosened by a thunder-bolt. Struck with Dhananjaya's shaft, the elephant, as it lay on the Earth, looked like a huge mountain cliff lying on the ground, loosened by the bolt of Indra. When the elephant of Vajradatta was prostrated on the ground, the son of Pandu, addressing the king who had fallen down with his beast, said,--"Do not fear. Indeed, Yudhishthira of mighty energy said unto me while commissioning me for this task even these words,--'Thou shouldst not, O Dhananjaya, slay those kings (who may encounter thee in battle). O tiger among men, thou shouldst regard thy task as accomplished if only thou disablest those hostile kings. Thou shouldst not also, O Dhananjaya, slay the warriors of those kings who may come forth to fight thee, with all their kinsmen and friends. They should be requested to come to the horse-sacrifice of Yudhishthira.'--Having heard these commands of my brother, I shall not slay thee, O king. Rise up; let no fear be thine; return to thy city safe and sound, O lord of Earth. When the day of full moon in the month of Chaitra comes, thou shalt, O great king, repair to that sacrifice of king Yudhishthira the just, for it takes place on that day." Thus addressed by Arjuna, the royal son of Bhagadatta, defeated by the son of Pandu, said,--"So be it."'" SECTION LXXVII "Vaisampayana said, 'There occurred a great battle between the diadem-decked Arjuna and the hundreds of Saindhavas who still lived after the slaughter of their clan (on the field of Kurukshetra). Hearing that he of white steeds had entered their territories, those Kshatriyas came out against him, unable to bear that foremost one of Pandu's race. Those warriors who were as terrible as virulent poison, finding the horse within their dominion, seized it without being inspired with any fear of Partha who was the younger brother of Bhimasena. Advancing against Vibhatsu who waited on foot, armed with his bow, upon the sacrificial steed, they assailed him from a near point. Defeated in battle before, those Kshatriyas of mighty energy, impelled by the desire of victory, surrounded that foremost of men. Proclaiming their names and families and their diverse feats, they showered their arrows on Partha. Pouring showers of arrows of such fierce energy as were capable of impeding the course of hostile elephants, those heroes surrounded the son of Kunti, desirous of vanquishing him in battle. Themselves seated on cars, they fought Arjuna of fierce feats who was on foot. From every side they began to strike that hero, that slayer of the Nivatakavachas, that destroyer of the Samasaptakas, that killer of the king of the Sindhus. Surrounding him on every side as within a cage by means of a thousand cars and ten thousand horses, those brave warriors expressed their exaltation. Recollecting the slaughter by Dhananjaya of Jayadratha in battle, O thou of Kuru's race, they poured heavy showers of arrows on that hero like a mass of clouds showering a heavy downpour. Overwhelmed with that arrowy shower, Arjuna looked like the sun covered by a cloud. That foremost son of Pandu, in the midst of that cloud of arrows, resembled a bird in the midst of an iron cage, O Bharata. Seeing the son of Kunti thus afflicted with shafts, cries of Oh and Alas were uttered by the three worlds and the Sun himself became shorn of his splendour. Then, O king, a terrible wind began to blow, and Rahu swallowed up both the Sun and the Moon at the same time. Many meteors struck the solar disc and then shot in different directions. The prince of mountains, viz., Kailasa, began to tremble. The seven (celestial) Rishis, as also the other Rishis of Heaven, penetrated with fear, and afflicted with grief and sorrow, breathed hot sighs. Piercing through the welkin, those meteors fell on the lunar disc as well. All the points of the compass became filled with smoke and assumed a strange aspect. Reddish clouds, with flashes of lightning playing in their midst and the bow of Indra measuring them from side to side, suddenly covered the welkin and poured flesh and bloods on the Earth. Even such was the aspect which all nature assumed when that hero was overwhelmed with showers of shafts. Indeed, when Phalguna, that foremost one among the Bharatas, was thus afflicted, those marvels were seen. Overwhelmed by that dense cloud of arrows, Arjuna became stupefied. His bow, Gandiva, fell down from his relaxed grip and his leathern fence also slipped down. When Dhananjaya became stupefied, the Saindhava warriors once more shot at that senseless warrior, without loss of time, innumerable other shafts. Understanding that the son of Pritha was deprived of consciousness, the deities, with hearts penetrated by fear, began to seek his welfare by uttering diverse benedictions. Then the celestial Rishis, the seven Rishis, and the regenerate Rishis, became engaged in silent recitations from desire of giving victory to Pritha's son of great intelligence. When at last the energy of Partha blazed forth through those acts of the denizens of Heaven, that hero, who was conversant with celestial weapons of high efficacy, stood immovable like a hill. The delighter of the Kurus then drew his celestial bow. And as he repeatedly stretched the bowstring, the twang that followed resembled the loud sound of some mighty machine. Like Purandara pouring rain, the puissant Arjuna then, with that bow of his, poured incessant showers of shafts on his foes. Pierced by those shafts the Saindhava warriors with their chiefs became invisible like trees when covered with locusts. They were frightened at the very sound of Gandiva, and afflicted by fear they fled away. In grief of heart they shed tears and uttered loud lamentations. The mighty warrior moved amidst that host of foes with the celerity of a fiery wheel, all the time piercing those warriors with his arrows. Like the great Indra, the wielder of the thunder-bolt, that slayer of foes, viz., Arjuna, shot from his bow in every direction that shower of arrows which resembled a sight produced by magic (instead of any human agency). The Kaurava hero, piercing the hostile host with showers of arrows, looked resplendent like the autumnal Sun when he disperses the clouds with his powerful rays.'" SECTION LXXVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'The irresistible wielder of Gandiva, addresst for battle, stood immovable on the field like Himavat himself. The Saindhava warriors, once more rallying, showered in great wrath repeated down-pours of shafts on him. The mighty-armed hero, laughing at his foes, who had once more rallied but who were on the point of death, addressed them in these soft words,--"Do ye fight to the best of your power and do ye endeavour to vanquish me. Do ye however, accomplish all necessary acts, for a great danger awaits you all. See, I fight all of you, baffling your clouds of arrows. Bent as you are on battle, tarry a little. I shall soon quell your pride." The wielder of Gandiva, having said these words in wrath, recollected, however, the words, O Bharata, of his eldest brother. Those words were,--"Thou shouldst not, O child, slay those Kshatriyas who will come against thee for battle. They should, however, be vanquished by thee." That foremost of men, Phalguna, had been thus addressed by king Yudhishthira the just, of great soul. He, therefore, began to reflect in this strain. "Even thus was I commissioned by my brother. Warriors advancing against me should not be slain. I must act in such a way as not to falsify the words of king Yudhishthira the just." Having arrived at this conclusion, Phalguna, that foremost of men, then said unto those Saindhavas who were all fierce in battle, these words:--"I say what is for your benefit. Though staying before me. I do not wish to slay you. He amongst you who will say unto me that he has been vanquished by me and that he is mine, will be spared by me. Having heard these words of mine, act towards me in that way which may best conduce to your benefit. By acting in a different way you will place yourselves in a situation of great fear and danger." Having said these words unto those heroic warriors the chief of the Kurus began to fight them. Arjuna was inflamed with wrath. His foes, desirous of victory, were equally enraged. The Saindhavas then, O king, shot hundreds and thousands of straight arrows at the wielder of Gandiva. Dhananjaya, with his own whetted shafts, cut off those arrows of sharp and terrible points, resembling snakes of virulent poison, before they could come up to him. Having cut off those sharp arrows equipt with Kanka feathers, Arjuna pierced each of the warriors opposed to him with a whetted shaft. The Saindhava Kshatriyas, recollecting that it was Dhananjaya who had slain their king Jayadratha, then hurled at him darts and javelins with great force. The diadem-decked Dhananjaya of great might baffled their intent by cutting off all those weapons before any of them could reach him. At length the son of Pandu became highly angry. With many straight and broad-headed arrows, he felled the heads of many of those warriors who were rushing at him from desire of victory. Many fled, many rushed at Arjuna; many moved not, all of them, however, uttered such a loud noise (of wrath and grief) that it resembled the roar of the ocean. As they were slain by Partha of immeasurable might, they fought him, each according to his strength and prowess. Their animals being all exhausted, Partha succeeded in depriving a large number of those warriors of their senses by means of his sharpest shafts in that battle. Then Dussala, their queen, the daughter of Dhritarashtra, knowing that they were rendered cheerless by Arjuna, took her grandson in her arms and repaired to Arjuna. The child was the son of Suratha (the son of Jayadratha). The brave prince proceeded to his maternal uncle on his car for the safety of all the Saindhava warriors. The queen, arrived at the presence of Dhananjaya, began to weep in sorrow. The puissant Dhananjaya, seeing her, cast off his bow. Abandoning his bow, Partha duly received his sister and enquired of her as to what he could do for her. The queen replied unto him, saying,--"O chief of the Bharatas, this child is the son of thy sister's son. He salutes thee, O Partha. Look at him, O foremost of men." Thus addressed by her, Partha enquired after his son (Suratha), saying--"Where is he?" Dussala then answered him, saying,--"Burning with grief on account of the slaughter of his sire, the heroic father of this child died in great affliction of heart. Listen to me how he met with his death. O Dhananjaya, he had heard before that his sire Jayadratha had been slain by thee, O sinless one. Exceedingly afflicted with grief at this, and hearing of thy arrival here as the follower and protector of the sacrificial horse, he at once fell down and gave up his life-breaths. Verily, deeply afflicted with grief as he was, as soon as he heard of thy arrival he gave up his life. Seeing him prostrate on the Earth, O lord, I took his infant son with me and have come to thee, desirous of thy protection." Having said these words, the daughter of Dhritarashtra began to lament in deep affliction. Arjuna stood before her in great cheerlessness of heart. His face was turned towards the Earth. The cheerless sister then said unto her brother, who was equally cheerless, these words: "Behold thy sister. Behold the child of thy sister's son. O perpetuator of Kuru's race, O thou that art fully conversant with every duty, it behoveth thee to show mercy to this child, forgetting the Kuru prince (Duryodhana) and the wicked Jayadratha. Even as that slayer of hostile heroes, Parikshit, has been born of Abhimanyu, so has this mighty-armed child, my grandson, sprung from Suratha. Taking him with me, O chief of men, I have come to thee, desirous of the safety of all the warriors. Do thou listen to these words of mine. This child of that wicked foe of thine hath now come to thee, O mighty-armed hero. It behoveth thee, therefore to show mercy to this infant. O chastiser of foes, this infant seeks to gratify thee by bending his head. He solicits thee for peace. O mighty-armed hero, be inclined to make peace. O thou that art conversant with every duty, be thou gratified with the child whose friends and kinsmen have all been slain and who himself knows nothing of what has happened. Do not yield to wrath. Forgetting his disreputable and cruel grandfather, who offended against thee so highly, it behoveth thee to show thy grace towards this child." Recollecting queen Gandhari and king Dhritarashtra, Dhananjaya, afflicted with grief, addressed Dussala who had said so unto him, and answered her, censuring Kshatriya practices the while. "Fie on Duryodhana, that mean wight, covetous of kingdom and full of vanity! Alas, it was for him that all my kinsmen have been despatched by me to the abode of Yama." Having said so, Dhananjaya comforted his sister and became inclined to make peace. Cheerfully he embraced her and then dismissed her, telling her to return to her palace. Dussala bade all her warriors desist from that great battle, and worshipping Partha, she of beautiful face retraced her steps towards her abode. Having vanquished those heroes, viz., the Saindhavas, thus, Dhananjaya began to follow that steed which roved at its will. The heroic Arjuna duly followed that sacrificial horse even as the divine wielder of Pinaka had in days of yore followed the deer through the firmament.[193] The steed, at its will, wandered through various realms one after another, enhancing the feats of Arjuna. In course of time, O chief of men, the horse wandering at its pleasure, at last arrived within the dominions of the ruler of Manipura, followed by the son of Pandu.'" SECTION LXXIX "Vaisampayana said, 'The ruler of Manipura, Vabhruvahana, hearing that his sire Arjuna had arrived within his dominions, went out with humility, with a number of Brahmanas and some treasure in his van.[194] Remembering, however, the duties of Kshatriyas, Dhananjaya of great intelligence, seeing the ruler of Manipura arrive in that guise, did not approve of it. The righteous-souled Phalguna angrily said, "This conduct of thine is not becoming. Thou hast certainly fallen away from Kshatriya duties. I have come here as the protector of Yudhishthira's sacrificial horse. Why, O son, wilt thou not fight me, seeing that I have come within thy dominions? Fie on thee, O thou of foolish understanding, fie on thee that hast fallen away from Kshatriya duties! Fie on thee that would receive me peacefully, even though I have come here for battling with thee. In thus receiving me peacefully thou actest like a woman. O thou of wretched understanding, if I had come to thee, leaving aside my arms, then would this behaviour of thine have been fit, O worst of men." Learning that these words were addressed by her husband, the daughter of the Snake-king, viz., Ulupi unable to tolerate it, pierced through the Earth and came up to that spot.[195] She beheld her son standing there perfectly cheerless and with face hanging down. Indeed, the prince was repeatedly rebuked by his sire who was desirous of battle with him, O monarch. The daughter of the snake, with every limb possessed of beauty, viz., Ulupi, said these words consistent with righteousness and duty unto the prince who was conversant with righteousness and duty,--"Know that I am thy mother Ulupi that am the daughter of a snake. Do thou accomplish my behest, O son, for thou wouldst then attain to great merit. Fight thy father, this foremost one of Kuru's race, this hero that is irresistible in battle. Without doubt, he will then be gratified with thee." In this way was king Vabhruvahana incited against his sire by his (step) mother. At last, endued as he was with great energy, he made up his mind, O chief of the Bharatas, to fight Dhananjaya. Putting on his armour of bright gold and his effulgent head-gear, he ascended an excellent car which had hundreds of quivers ready on it. That car was equipt with necessaries for battle and had steeds yoked to it that were endued with the speed of the mind. It had excellent wheels and a strong Upashkara, and was adorned with golden ornaments of every kind. Raising his standard which was decorated most beautifully and which bore the device of a lion in gold, the handsome prince Vabhruvahana proceeded against his sire for battle. Coming upon the sacrificial steed which was protected by Partha, the heroic prince caused it to be seized by persons well-versed in horse-lore. Beholding the steed seized, Dhananjaya became filled with joy. Standing on the Earth, that hero began to resist the advance of his son who was on his car. The king afflicted the hero with repeated showers of shafts endued with whetted points and resembling snakes of virulent poison. The battle that took place between sire and son was incomparable. It resembled the encounter between the deities and the Asuras of old. Each was gratified with obtaining the other for an antagonist. Then Vabhruvahana, laughing, pierced the diadem-decked Arjuna, that foremost of men, in the shoulder with a straight shaft. Equipt with feathers, that shaft penetrated Arjuna's body like a snake penetrating on an anthill. Piercing the son of Kunti through, the shaft went deep into the Earth. Feeling acute pain, the intelligent Dhananjaya rested awhile, supporting himself on his excellent bow. He stood, having recourse to his celestial energy and seemed to outward appearance like one deprived of life. That foremost of men, then regaining consciousness, praised his son highly. Possessed of great splendour, the son of Sakra said, "Excellent, Excellent, O mighty-armed one, O son of Chitrangada! O son, beholding this feat, so worthy of thee, I am highly gratified with thee. I shall now shoot these arrows at thee, O son. Stand for fight (without running away)." Having said these words, that slayer of foes shot a shower of arrows on the prince. King Vabhruvahana, however, with his own broad-headed shafts, cut all those arrows which were shot from Gandiva and which resembled the thunder-bolt of Indra in splendour, some in twain and some into three parts. Then the standard, decked with gold and resembling a golden palmyra, on the king's car was cut off by Partha with some excellent shafts of his. The son of Pandu, laughing, next slew the king's steeds endued with large size and great speed. Descending from his car, the king inflamed with rage, fought his sire on foot. Gratified with the prowess of his son, that foremost one of the sons of Pritha, viz., the son of the wielder of the thunder-bolt, began to afflict him greatly. The mighty Vabhruvahana, thinking that his father was no longer able to face him, again afflicted him with many shafts resembling snakes of virulent poison. From a spirit of boyishness he then vigorously pierced his father in the breast with a whetted shaft equipt with excellent wings. That shaft, O king, penetrated the body of Pandu's son and reaching his very vital caused him great pain. The delighter of the Kurus, Dhananjaya, deeply pierced therewith by his son, then fell down in a swoon on the Earth, O king. When that hero, that bearer of the burthens of the Kurus fell down, the son of Chitrangada also became deprived of his senses. The latter's swoon was due to his exertions in battle as also to his grief at seeing his sire slain. He had been pierced deeply by Arjuna with clouds of arrows. He, therefore, fell down at the van of battle embracing the Earth. Hearing that her husband had been slain and that her son had fallen down on the Earth, Chitrangada, in great agitation of mind, repaired to the field of battle. Her heart burning with sorrow, weeping piteously the while, and trembling all over, the mother of the ruler of Manipura saw her slain husband."' SECTION LXXX "Vaisampayana said, 'That lady of eyes like lotus petals, having indulged in copious lamentations, and burning with grief, at last lost her senses and fell down on the Earth. Regaining consciousness and seeing Ulupi, the daughter of the snake chief, queen Chitrangada endued with celestial beauty, said unto her these words, "Behold, O Ulupi, our ever-victorious husband slain in battle, through thee, by my son of tender years. Art thou conversant with the practices of the respectable? Art thou a wife devoted to thy lord? It is through thy deed that thy husband is laid low, slain in battle. If Dhananjaya hath offended against thee in every respect, do thou forgive him. I solicit thee, do thou revive that hero. O righteous lady, thou art conversant with piety. Thou art, O blessed one, known (for thy virtues) over the three worlds. How is it that having caused thy husband to be slain by my son, thou dost not indulge in grief? O daughter of the snake chief, I do not grieve for my slain son. I grieve for only my husband who has received this hospitality from his son." Having said these words unto the queenly Ulupi, the daughter of the snake chief, the illustrious Chitrangada proceeded to where her husband lay on the Earth and addressing him, said, "Rise, O dear lord, thou occupiest the foremost place in the affections of the Kuru king (Yudhishthira). Here is that steed of thine. It has been set free by me. Verily, O puissant one, this sacrificial steed of king Yudhishthira the just, should be followed by thee. Why then dost thou lie still on the Earth? My life-breaths depend on thee, O delighter of the Kurus. How is it that he who is the giver of other people's life-breaths casts off his own life-breaths today? Behold, O Ulupi, this goodly sight of thy husband lying prostrate on the ground. How is it that thou dost not grieve, having caused him to be slain through my son when thou didst excite with thy words? It is fit that this boy should succumb to the power of death and lie thus on the ground beside his own sire. Oh, let Vijaya, let him that is called Gudakesa, let this hero with reddish eyes, come back to life. O blessed lady, polygamy is not fault with men. Women only incur fault by taking more than one husband. Do not, therefore, harbour such thoughts (of vengeance).[196] This relationship was ordained by the Supreme ordainer himself. It is, besides, an eternal and unchangeable one. Do thou attend to that relationship. Let thy union (with Dhananjaya) be made true. If, having slain thy husband through my son, thou dost not revive him today before my eyes, I shall then cast off my life-breaths. Without doubt, O reverend lady, afflicted as I am with grief and deprived as I am of both husband and son, I shall sit here today in Praya in thy very sight!" Having said so unto the daughter of the snake chief, who was a co-wife with her to Arjuna, the princess Chaitravahini sat in Praya, O king, restraining speech.'[197] "Vaisampayana continued, 'Ceasing to lament, the cheerless queen, taking upon her lap the feet of her husband, sat there, sighing heavily and wishing also the restoration of her son to life. King Vabhruvahana then, regaining consciousness, saw his mother seated in that guise on the field of battle. Addressing her he said, "What can be more painful than the sight of my mother, who has been brought up in luxury, lying on the bare ground beside her heroic husband stretched thereon? Alas, this slayer of all foes, this foremost of all wielders of weapons, hath been slain by me in battle. It is evident that men do not die till their hour comes.[198] Oh, the heart of this princess seems to be very hard since it does not break even at the sight of her mighty-armed and broad-chested husband lying dead on the ground. It is evident that one does not die till one's hour comes, since neither myself, nor my mother is deprived of life (at even such a sight). Alas, alas, the golden coat of mail of this foremost hero of Kuru's race, slain by me, his son, knowingly, is lying on the ground, cut off from his body. Alas, ye Brahmanas, behold my heroic sire lying prostrate on the Earth, on a hero's bed, slain by his son. What benefit is done to this hero, slain by me in battle, by those Brahmanas who were commissioned to attend upon this foremost one of Kuru's race engaged in following the steed? Let the Brahmanas direct what expiation should now be undergone by me, a cruel and sinful wretch, that has slain his own sire in battle. Having slain my own sire, I should, suffering every kind of misery, wander over the Earth, cruel that I am, covering myself with his skin. Give me the two halves of my sire's head today, (so that I may wander over the Earth with them for that period), for there is no other expiation for me that have slain my own sire. Behold, O daughter of the foremost of snakes, thy husband slain by me. Verily, by slaying Arjuna in battle I have accomplished what is agreeable to thee. I shall today follow in the track by which my sire has gone. O blessed one, I am unable to comfort myself. Be happy today, O mother, seeing myself and the wielder of Gandiva both embrace death today. I swear to thee by truth itself (that I shall cast off my life-breaths)." Having said these words, the king, deeply afflicted with grief, O monarch, touched water, and exclaimed in sorrow, "Let all creatures, mobile and immobile, listen to me. Do thou also listen to me, O mother. I say the truth, O best of all daughters of the snakes. If this best of men, Jaya, my sire, does not rise up, I shall emaciate my own body, sitting on the field of battle. Having slain my sire, there is no rescue for me (from that dire sin). Afflicted as I am with the sin of slaying my sire, I shall without doubt have to sink in Hell. By slaying a heroic Kshatriya one becomes cleansed by making a gift of a hundred kine. By slaying my sire, however, so dire has been my sin that any rescue is impossible. This Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu, was the one hero endued with mighty energy. Possessed of righteous soul, he was the author of my being. How can I be rescued after having slain him?" Having uttered these lamentations, the high-souled son of Dhananjaya, king Vabhruvahana, touched water and became silent, vowing to starve himself to death.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'When the king of Manipura, that chastiser of foes, afflicted with grief, along with his mother, sat down to starve himself to death, Ulupi then thought of the gem that has the virtue of reviving a dead man. The gem, the great refuge of the snakes, thus thought of, came there. The daughter of the prince of snakes taking it up, uttered these words that highly gladdened the combatants standing on the field. "Rise up, O son. Do not grieve. Jishnu has not been vanquished by thee. This hero is incapable of being vanquished by men as also by the deities with Vasava himself at their head. I have exhibited this illusion, deceiving your senses, for the benefit of this foremost of men, viz., thy illustrious sire. O thou of Kuru's race, desirous of ascertaining the prowess of thyself, his son, this slayer of hostile heroes, O king, came here for battling with thee. It was for that reason, O son, that thou wert urged by me to do battle. O puissant king, O son, do not suspect that thou hast committed any, even the least, fault, by accepting his challenge. He is a Rishi, of a mighty soul, eternal and indestructible. O dear son, Sakra himself is incapable of vanquishing him in battle. This celestial gem has been brought by me, O king. It always revives the snakes as often as they die. O puissant king, do thou place this gem on the breast of thy sire. Thou shalt then see the son of Pandu revived." Thus addressed, the prince who had committed no sin, moved by affection for his sire, then placed that gem on the breast of Pritha's son of immeasurable energy. After the gem had been placed on his breast, the heroic and puissant Jishnu became revived. Opening his red eyes he rose up like one who had slept long. Beholding his sire, the high-souled hero of great energy, restored to consciousness and quite at his ease, Vabhruvahana worshipped him with reverence. When that tiger among men, O puissant one, awoke from the slumber of death with every auspicious sign of life, the chastiser of Paka rained down celestial flowers. Kettle-drums struck by nobody, produced their music deep as the roar of the cloud. A loud uproar was heard in the welkin consisting of the words--"Excellent, Excellent!" The mighty-armed Dhananjaya, rising up and well-comforted, embraced Vabhruvahana and smelled his head. He saw sitting at a distance from his son, this latter's mother afflicted with grief, in the company of Ulupi. Dhananjaya asked,--"Why is it that every thing in the field of battle seems to bear the indications of grief, wonder, and joy? If, O slayer of foes, the cause is known to thee, do thou then tell me. Why has thy mother come to the field of battle? Why also has Ulupi, the daughter of the prince of snakes, come here? I know that thou hadst fought this battle with me at my own command. I desire to know what the cause is that has brought out the ladies." The intelligent ruler of Manipura, thus questioned by Dhananjaya, gratified him by bending his head in reverence, and then said,--"Let Ulupi be questioned."'" SECTION LXXXI "'Arjuna said, "What business brought thee here, O daughter (-in-law) of Kuru's race, and what also is the cause of the arrival on the field of battle of her who is the mother of the ruler of Manipura? Dost thou entertain friendly motives towards this king, O daughter of a snake? O thou of restless glances, dost thou wish good to me too? I hope, O thou of ample hips, that neither I, nor this Vabhruvahana here, have, O beautiful lady, done any injury to thee unconsciously? Has Chitrangada of faultless limbs, descended from the race of Chitravahana, done thee any wrong?" Unto him, the daughter of the prince of snakes answered smilingly, "Thou hast not offended me, nor has Vabhruvahana done me any wrong; nor this prince's mother who is always obedient to me as a hand-maid. Listen, how all this has been brought about by me. Thou shouldst not be angry with me. Indeed, I seek to gratify thee by bending my head in reverence. O thou of Kuru's race, all this has been done by me for thy good, O puissant one. O mighty-armed Dhananjaya, hear all that I have done. In the great battle of the Bharata princes, thou hadst slain the royal son of Santanu by unrighteous ways. What I have done has expiated thy sin. Thou didst not overthrow Bhishma while battling with thee. He was engaged with Sikhandin. Relying on him as thy help, thou didst compass the overthrow of Santanu's son. If thou hadst died without having expiated thy sin, thou wouldst then have fallen without doubt into Hell in consequence of that sinful act of thine. Even this which thou hast got from thy son is the expiation of that sin. Formerly, O ruler of Earth, I heard this said by the Vasus while they were in the company of Ganga, O thou of great intelligence. After the fall of Santanu's son, those deities, viz., the Vasus, coming to the banks of Ganga, bathed in her waters, and calling the goddess of that stream, they uttered these terrible words having the sanction of Bhagirathi herself, viz.,--'Santanu's son Bhishma has been slain by Dhananjaya. Verily, O goddess, Bhishma then was engaged with another, and had ceased to fight. For this fault we shall today denounce a curse on Dhananjaya.'--To this, the goddess Ganga readily assented, saying,--'Be it so!'--Hearing these words I became very much afflicted and penetrating into the nether regions represented everything to my sire. Informed of what had happened, my sire became plunged in grief. Repairing to the Vasus, he solicited them for thy sake, repeatedly gratifying them by every means in his power. They then said unto him, 'Dhananjaya has a highly blessed son who, endued with youth, is the ruler of Manipura. He will, standing on the field of battle, cast Dhananjaya down on the Earth. When this will happen, O prince of snakes, Arjuna will be freed from our curse. Do thou go back.'--Thus addressed by the Vasus, he came back and informed me of what had happened. Having learnt all this, O hero, I have freed thee from the curse of the Vasus even in this way. The chief of the deities himself is incapable of vanquishing thee in battle. The son is one's own self. It is for this that thou hast been vanquished by him. I cannot be held, O puissant one, to have committed any fault. How, indeed, wouldst thou hold me censurable?"--Thus addressed (by Ulupi), Vijaya became cheerful of heart and said unto her, "All this that thou hast done, O goddess, is highly agreeable to me." After this, Jaya addressed his son, the ruler of Manipura, and said unto him in the hearing of Chitrangada, the daughter (-in-law) of Kuru's house, "the Horse-sacrifice of Yudhishthira will take place on the day of full moon in the coming month of Chaitra. Come there, O king, with thy mother and thy counsellors and officers." Thus addressed by Partha, king Vabhruvahana of great intelligence, with tearful eyes, said these words to his sire, "O thou that art conversant with every duty, I shall certainly repair, at thy command, to the great Horse-sacrifice, and take upon myself the task of distributing food among the regenerate ones. For, however, showing thy grace towards me, thou enter thy own city with thy two wives. Let no scruple be thine as regards this, O thou that art fully acquainted with every duty. O lord, having lived for one night in thy own mansion in happiness, thou mayst then follow the steed, O foremost of victorious warriors." The ape-bannered son of Kunti, thus addressed by his son, answered the child of Chitrangada, saying "Thou knowest, O mighty-armed one, what vow I am observing. O thou of large eyes, till the termination of this my vow, I cannot enter thy city. O foremost of men, this sacrificial horse wanders at will. (I have to follow it always.) Blessings on thee! I must go away. Place I have none wherein to rest for even a short while." The son of the chastiser of Paka then, duly worshipped by his son and obtaining the permission of his two wives, left the spot and proceeded on his way.'" SECTION LXXXII "Vaisampayana said, 'The (sacrificial) steed, having wandered over the whole Earth bounded by the ocean, then ceased and turned his face towards the city called after the elephant. Following as he did that horse, the diadem-decked Arjuna also turned his face towards the Kuru capital. Wandering at his will, the steed then came to the city of Rajagriha. Beholding him arrived within his dominion, O monarch, the heroic son of Sahadeva, observant of Kshatriya duties, challenged him to battle. Coming out of his city, Meghasandhi, mounted on his car and equipt with bow and arrows and leathern fence, rushed towards Dhananjaya who was on foot. Possessed of great energy, Meghasandhi approaching Dhananjaya, O king, said these words from a spirit of childishness and without any skill. "This steed of thine, O Bharata, seems to move about, protected by women only. I shall take away the horse. Do thou strive to free him. Although my sires did not teach thee in battle, I, however, shall do the duties of hospitality to you. Do thou strike me, for I shall strike thee." Thus addressed, the son of Pandu, smiling the while, answered him, saying, "To resist him who obstructs me is the vow cast on me by my eldest brother. Without doubt, O king, this is known to thee. Do thou strike me to the best of thy power. I have no anger." Thus addressed, the ruler of Magadha first struck the son of Pandu, showering his arrows on him like the thousand-eyed Indra showering heavy downpour of rain. Then, O chief of Bharata's race, the heroic wielder of Gandiva, with shafts sped from his excellent bow, baffled all the arrows shot carefully at him by his antagonist. Having thus baffled that cloud of arrows, the ape-bannered hero sped a number of blazing arrows at his foe that resembled snakes with fiery mouths. These arrows he shot at his flag and flag-staff and car and poles and yoke and the horses, sparing the body of his foe and his car-driver. Though Partha who was capable of shooting the bow with the left hand (as well as with the right) spared the body of the prince of Magadha, yet the latter thinking that his body was protected by his own prowess, shot many arrows at Partha. The wielder of Gandiva, deeply struck by the prince of Magadha, shone like a flowering Palasa (Butea frondosa) in the season of spring. Arjuna had no desire of slaying the prince of Magadha. It was for this that, having struck the son of Pandu, he succeeded in remaining before that foremost of heroes. Then Dhananjaya, becoming angry, drew his bow with great force, and slew his antagonist's steeds and then struck off the head of his car-driver. With a razor-headed shaft he then cut off Meghasandhi's large and beautiful bow, and then his leathern fence. Then cutting off his flag and flag-staff, he caused it to fall down. The prince of Magadha, exceedingly afflicted, and deprived of his steeds and bow and driver, took up a mace and rushed with great speed at the son of Kunti. Arjuna then with many shafts of his equipt with vulturine feathers cut off into fragments, that mace of his advancing foe which was adorned with bright gold. Thus cut off into fragments, that mace with its begemmed bonds and knots all severed, fell on the Earth like a she-snake helplessly hurled down by somebody. When his foe became deprived of his car, his bow, and his mace, that foremost of warriors, viz., the intelligent Arjuna, did not wish to strike him. The ape-bannered hero then, comforting his cheerless foe who had been observant of Kshatriya duties, said unto him these words, "O son, thou hast sufficiently displayed thy adherence to Kshatriya duties. Go now. Great have been the feats, O king, which thou hast accomplished in battle although thou art very young in years. The command I received from Yudhishthira was that kings who oppose me should not be slain. It is for this thou livest yet, O monarch, although thou hast offended me in battle." Thus addressed, the ruler of Magadha considered himself vanquished and spared. Thinking then that it was his duty to do so, he approached Arjuna and joining his hands in reverence worshipped him. And he said, "Vanquished have I been by thee. Blessed be thou, I do not venture to continue the battle. Tell me what I am to do now for thee. Regard thy behest as already accomplished." Comforting him again, Arjuna once more said unto him, "Thou shouldst repair to the Horse-sacrifice of our king which takes place at the coming full moon of Chaitra." Thus addressed by him, the son of Sahadeva said, "So be it,"--and then duly worshipped that horse as also Phalguna, that foremost of warriors. The sacrificial horse then, equipt with beautiful manes, proceeded at his will along the sea-coast, repairing to the countries of the Bangas, the Pundras, and the Kosalas. In those realms Dhananjaya, with his bow Gandiva, O king, vanquished innumerable Mlechccha armies one after another.'" SECTION LXXXIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Worshipped by the ruler of Magadha, Pandu's son having white steeds yoked unto his car, proceeded along the south, following the (sacrificial) steed. Turning round in course of his wanderings at will, the mighty steed came upon the beautiful city of the Chedis called after the oyster.[199] Sarabha, the son of Sisupala, endued with great strength, first encountered Arjuna in battle and then worshipped him with due honours. Worshipped by him, O king, that best of steeds then proceeded to the realms of the Kasis, the Angas, the Kosalas, the Kiratas, and the Tanganas. Receiving due honours in all those realms, Dhananjaya turned his course. Indeed, the son of Kunti then proceeded to the country of the Dasarnas. The ruler of that people was Chitrangada who was endued with great strength and was a crusher of foes. Between him and Vijaya occurred a battle exceedingly terrible. Bringing him under his sway the diadem-decked Arjuna, that foremost of men, proceeded to the dominions of the Nishada king, viz., the son of Ekalavya. The son of Ekalavya received Arjuna in battle. The encounter that took place between the Kuru hero and the Nishadas was so furious as to make the hair stand on end. Unvanquished in battle, the valiant son of Kunti defeated the Nishada king who proved an obstacle to the sacrifice. Having subjugated the son of Ekalavya, O king, the son of Indra, duly worshipped by the Nishadas, then proceeded towards the southern ocean. In those regions battle took place between the diadem-decked hero and the Dravidas and Andhras and the fierce Mahishakas and the hillmen of Kolwa. Subjugating those tribes without having to accomplish any fierce feats, Arjuna proceeded to the country of the Surashtras, his footsteps guided by the horse. Arrived at Gokarna, he repaired thence to Prabhasa. Next he proceeded to the beautiful city of Dwaravati protected by the heroes of the Vrishni race. When the beautiful sacrificial horse of the Kuru king reached Dwaravati, the Yadava youths, used force against that foremost of steeds. King Ugrasena, however, soon went out and forbade those youths from doing what they meditated. Then the ruler of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, issuing out of his palace, with Vasudeva, the maternal uncle of Arjuna, in his company, cheerfully met the Kuru hero and received him with due rites. The two elderly chiefs honoured Arjuna duly. Obtaining their permission, the Kuru prince then proceeded to where the horse he followed, led him. The sacrificial steed then proceeded along the coast of the western ocean and at last reached the country of the five waters which swelled with population and prosperity. Thence, O king, the steed proceeded to the country of Gandharas. Arrived there, it wandered at will, followed by the son of Kunti. Then occurred a fierce battle between the diadem-decked hero and the ruler of Gandharas, viz., the son of Sakuni, who had a bitter remembrance of the grudge his sire bore to the Pandavas.'" SECTION LXXXIV "Vaisampayana said, 'The heroic son of Sakuni, who was a mighty car-warrior among the Gandharas, accompanied by a large force, proceeded against the Kuru hero of curly hair.[200] That force was properly equipt with elephants and horses and cars, and was adorned with many flags and banners. Unable to bear and, therefore, burning to avenge, the slaughter of their king Sakuni, those warriors, armed with bows, rushed together at Partha. The unvanquished Vibhatsu of righteous soul addressed them peacefully, but they were unwilling to accept the beneficial words of Yudhishthira (through Arjuna). Though forbidden by Partha with sweet words, they still gave themselves up to wrath and surrounded the sacrificial steed. At this, the son of Pandu became filled with wrath. Then Arjuna, carelessly shooting from Gandiva many shafts with razor-like heads that blazed with splendour, cut off the heads of many Gandhara warriors. While thus slaughtered by Partha, the Gandharas, O king, exceedingly afflicted, set free the horse, moved by fear and desisted from battle. Resisted, however, by those Gandhara combatants who still surrounded him on every side, the son of Pandu, possessed of great energy, felled the heads of many, previously naming those whom he thus despatched. When the Gandhara warriors were thus being slain all around him in battle, the royal son of Sakuni came forward to resist the son of Pandu. Unto the Gandhara king who was fighting with him, impelled by Kshatriya duty, Arjuna said, "I do not intend to slay the kings who fight with me, in consequence of the commands of Yudhishthira. Cease, O hero, to fight with me. Do not court defeat." Thus addressed the son of Sakuni, stupefied by folly, disregarded that advice and covered with many swift arrows the Kuru hero who resembled Sakra himself in the feats he accomplished in battle. Then Partha, with a crescent-shaped arrow, cut off the head-gear of his foe. Of immeasurable soul, he also caused that head-gear to be borne along a great distance like the head of Jayadratha (after he had cut it off in the battle of Kurukshetra). Beholding this feat, all the Gandhara warriors became filled with wonder. That Arjuna voluntarily spared their king was well understood by them. The prince of the Gandharas then began to fly away from the field, accompanied by all his warriors who resembled a flock of frightened deer. The Gandharas, through fear, lost their senses and wandered over the field, unable to escape. Arjuna, with his broad-headed shafts, cut off the heads of many. Many there were who lost their arms in consequence of Arjuna's arrows, but so stupefied were they with fear that they were not aware of the loss of that limb. Verily, the Gandhara army was exceedingly afflicted with those large shafts which Partha sped from Gandiva. That army, which then consisted of frightened men and elephants and horses, which lost many warriors and animals, and which had been reduced to a rabble and put to rout, began to wander and wheel about the field repeatedly. Among those foes who were thus being slaughtered none could be seen standing in front of the Kuru hero famed for foremost of feats. No one could be seen who was able to bear the prowess of Dhananjaya. Then the mother of the ruler of the Gandharas, filled with fear, and with all the aged ministers of state, came out of her city, bearing an excellent Arghya for Arjuna. She forbade her brave son of steady heart from fighting any longer, and gratified Jishnu who was never fatigued with toil. The puissant Vibhatsu worshipped her and became inclined to show kindness towards the Gandharas. Comforting the son of Sakuni, he said, "Thou hast not, O mighty-armed hero, done what is agreeable to me by setting thy heart upon these measures of hostility. O slayer of heroes, thou art my brother, O sinless one.[201] Recollecting my mother Gandhari, and for the sake of Dhritarashtra also, I have not taken thy life. It is for this, O king, that thou livest still. Many of thy followers, however, have been slain by me. Let not such a thing happen again. Let hostilities cease. Let not thy understanding again go astray. Thou shouldst go to the Horse-sacrifice of our king which comes off on the day of full moon of the month of Chaitra."'" SECTION LXXXV "Vaisampayana said, 'Having said these words, Partha set out, following the horse which wandered at its will. The sacrificial steed then turned towards the road that led to the city called after the elephant. Yudhishthira heard from his intelligence-bearers that the steed had turned back. And hearing also that Arjuna was hale and hearty, he became filled with joy.[202] Hearing also the feats, accomplished by Vijaya in the country of the Gandharas as also in another realms, the king became exceedingly glad. Meanwhile, king Yudhishthira the just, seeing that the twelfth day of the lighted fortnight in the month of Magha had come, and noticing also that the constellation was favourable, summoned all his brothers, viz., Bhima and Nakula and Sahadeva. Endued with great energy, the king, O thou of Kuru's race, that foremost of all persons conversant with duties, said these words in proper time. Indeed, that foremost of all speakers, addressing Bhima, the first of all smiters, said;--"Thy younger brother (Arjuna), O Bhimasena, is coming back with the horse. I have learnt this from those men who had followed Arjuna. The time (for the sacrifice) is come. The sacrificial horse is near. The day of full moon of the month of Magha is at hand. The month is about to expire, O Vrikodara. Let, therefore, learned Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas look for a sacrificial spot for the successful accomplishment of the Horse-sacrifice." Thus addressed, Bhima obeyed the royal behest. He became very glad upon hearing that Arjuna of curly hair was about to come back. Then Bhima went out with a number of men well conversant with the rules of laying out sacrificial grounds and constructing buildings. And he took with him many Brahmanas well-versed in all the rites of sacrifices. Bhima selected a beautiful spot and caused it to be duly measured out for laying the sacrificial compound. Numerous houses and mansions were constructed on it and high and broad roads also were laid out. Soon enough the Kaurava hero caused that ground to teem with hundreds of excellent mansions. The surface was levelled and made smooth with jewels and gems, and adorned with diverse structures made of gold. Columns were raised, ornamented with bright gold, and high and wide triumphal arches also were constructed on that sacrificial compound. All these were made of pure gold. The righteous-souled prince also caused apartments to be duly constructed for the accommodation of ladies and of the numerous kings who, hailing from many realms, were expected to grace the sacrifice with their presence. The son of Kunti also caused many mansions to be duly erected for Brahmanas who were expected to come from diverse realms. Then the mighty-armed Bhimasena, at the command of the king, sent out messengers to the great kings of the Earth. Those best of kings, came to the Horse-sacrifice of the Kuru monarch for doing what was agreeable to him. And they brought many gems with them and many female slaves and horses and weapons. The sounds that arose from those high-souled kings who resided within those pavilions touched the very heavens and resembled the noise made by the roaring ocean. King Yudhishthira, the delighter of the Kurus, assigned unto the monarchs who thus came to his sacrifice diverse kinds of food and drink, and beds also of celestial beauty. The chief of the Bharatas, viz., king Yudhishthira the just, assigned several stables well filled with different kinds of corn and sugarcane and milk to the animals (that came with the guests). To that great sacrifice of king Yudhishthira the just who was possessed of high intelligence, there also came a large number of Munis all of whom were utterers of Brahman. Indeed, O lord of Earth, all the foremost ones among the regenerate class that were then alive, came to that sacrifice, accompanied by their disciples. The Kuru king received them all. King Yudhishthira of mighty energy, casting off all pride, himself followed all his guests to the pavilions that had been assigned for their residence. Then all the mechanics and engineers, having completed the arrangements of the sacrifice informed king Yudhishthira of it. Hearing that everything was ready, king Yudhishthira the just, full of alertness and attention, became highly glad along with his brothers all of whom honoured him duly.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'When the great sacrifice of Yudhishthira commenced, many eloquent dialecticians started diverse propositions and disputed thereon, desirous of vanquishing one another.[203] The (invited) kings beheld the excellent preparations of that sacrifice, resembling those of the chief himself of the deities, made, O Bharata, by Bhimasena. They beheld many triumphal arches made of gold, and many beds and seats and other articles of enjoyment and luxury, and crowds of men collected at different spots. There were also many jars and vessels and cauldrons and jugs and lids and covers. The invited kings saw nothing there that was not made of gold. Many sacrificial stakes also were set up, made, according to the directions of the scriptures of wood, and adorned with gold. Endued with great effulgence, these were duly planted and dedicated (with scriptural Mantras). The king saw all animals, again, which belong to land and all those which belong to water, collected there on the occasion. And they also beheld many kine and many buffaloes and many old women, and many aquatic animals, many beasts of prey and many species of birds, and many specimens of viviparous and oviparous creatures, and many that are filth-born, and many belonging to the vegetable kingdom, and many animals and plants that live or grow on mountains. Beholding the sacrificial compound thus adorned with animals and kine and corn, the invited kings became filled with wonder. Large heaps of costly sweet-meats were kept ready for both the Brahmanas and the Vaisyas. And when the feeding was over of a hundred thousand Brahmanas, drums and cymbals were beat. And so large was the number fed that the sounds of drums and cymbals were repeatedly heard, indeed, from day to day those sounds continued. Thus was performed that sacrifice of king Yudhishthira of great intelligence. Many hills of food, O king, were dedicated on the occasion. Many large tanks were seen of curds and many lakes of ghee. In that great sacrifice, O monarch, was seen the entire population of Jamvudwipa, with all its realms and provinces, collected together. Thousands of nations and races were there. A large number of men, O chief of Bharata's race, adorned with garlands and wearing bright ear-rings made of gold, taking innumerable vessels in their hands, distributed the food unto the regenerate classes by hundreds and thousands. The attendants of the Pandavas gave away unto the Brahmanas diverse kinds of food and drink which were, besides, so costly as to be worthy of being eaten and drunk by kings themselves.'" SECTION LXXXVI "Vaisampayana said, 'Beholding those kings--lords of Earth--all conversant with the Vedas, arrive, king Yudhishthira, addressing Bhimasena, said,--"O chief of men, let proper honours be paid to these kings who have come (to my sacrifice), for these foremost of men are all worthy of the highest honours." Thus addressed by king Yudhishthira of great fame Pandu's son Bhimasena of mighty energy did as he was enjoined, assisted by the twins. The foremost of all men, viz., Govinda, came there, accompanied by the Vrishnis, and with Valadeva in the van. He was accompanied by Yuyudhana and Pradyumna and Gada, and Nisatha and Samvo and Kritavarman. The mighty car-warrior Bhima offered them the most reverential worship. Those princes then entered the palaces, adorned with gems, that were assigned to them. At the end of a conversation he had with Yudhishthira, the slayer of Madhu referred to Arjuna who had been emaciated in consequence of many fights. The son of Kunti repeatedly asked Krishna, that chastiser of foes, about Arjuna. Unto Dharma's son, the lord of all the universe began to speak about Jishnu, the son of Sakra. "O king, a confidential agent of mine residing in Dwaraka came to me. He had seen Arjuna, that foremost of Pandu's sons. Indeed, the latter has been very much emaciated with the fatigue of many battles. O puissant monarch, that agent of mine informed me that the mighty-armed hero is very near to us. Do thou set thyself to accomplish thy Horse-sacrifice." Thus addressed, king Yudhishthira the just, said unto him,--"By good luck, O Madhava, Arjuna comes back safely. I desire to ascertain from thee, O delighter of the Yadavas, what has been said in this matter by that mightiest of heroes among the sons of Pandu." Thus addressed by king Yudhishthira the just, the lord of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, that foremost of eloquent men, said these words unto that monarch of righteous soul,--"My agent, recollecting the words of Partha, reported them thus to me, O great king,--'Yudhishthira, O Krishna, should be told these words of mine when the time comes. O chief of the Kauravas, many kings will come (to thy sacrifice). When they arrive, high honours should be paid unto them. This would, indeed, be worthy for us. O giver of honours, the king should further be informed at my request that he should do what is necessary for preventing a carnage similar to what took place at the time of presenting the Arghya (on the occasion of the Rajasuya-sacrifice). Let Krishna also approve of this. Let not, O king, through the ill-feeling of kings, the people be slaughtered.' My man further reported, O king, these words of Dhananjaya. Listen as I repeat them, 'O monarch, the ruler of Manipura, my dear son Vabhruvahana, will come at the sacrifice. Do thou honour him duly for my sake, O puissant one. He is always attached and deeply devoted to me.'"--Hearing these words, king Yudhishthira the just, approved of them and said as follows.'" SECTION LXXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "I have heard, O Krishna, thy agreeable words. They are such as deserve to be spoken by thee. Gladsome and sweet as nectar are they, indeed, they fill my heart with great pleasure, O puissant one. O Hrishikesa, I have heard that innumerable have been the battles which Vijaya has fought with the kings of the Earth. For what reason is Partha always dissociated from ease and comfort? Vijaya is exceedingly intelligent. This, therefore, pains my heart very much. I always, O Janarddana, think, when I am withdrawn from business, of Kunti's son Jishnu. The lot of that delighter of the Pandus is exceedingly miserable. His body has every auspicious mark. What, however, O Krishna, is that sign in his excellent body in consequence of which he has always to endure misery and discomfort? That son of Kunti has to bear an exceedingly large share of unhappiness. I do not see any censurable indication in his body. It behoves thee to explain the cause to me if I deserve to hear it." Thus addressed, Hrishikesa, that enhancer of the glory of the Bhoja princes, having reflected for a long time, answered as follows--"I do not see any censurable feature in this prince, except that the cheek bones of this lion among men are a little too high. It is in consequence of this that that foremost of men has always to be on the road. I really do not see anything else in consequence of which he could be made so unhappy." Thus answered by Krishna of great intelligence, that foremost of men, viz., king Yudhishthira, said unto the chief of the Vrishnis that it was even so. The princess Draupadi, however, looked angrily and askance at Krishna, (for she could not bear the ascription of any fault to Arjuna). The slayer of Kesi, viz., Hrishikesa, approved of that indication of love (for his friend) which the princess of Panchala, who also was his friend, displayed.[204] Bhimasena and the other Kurus, including the sacrificial priests, who heard of the agreeable triumphs of Arjuna in course of his following the horse, became highly gratified. While they were still engaged in discoursing on Arjuna, an envoy came from that high-souled hero bearing a message from him. Repairing to the presence of the Kuru king, the intelligent envoy bowed his head in reverence and informed him of the arrival of that foremost of men, viz., Phalguna. On receipt of this intelligence, tears of joy covered the king's eyes. Large gifts were made to the messenger for the very agreeable tidings he had brought. On the second day from that date, a loud din was heard when that foremost of men, that chief of the Kurus, came. The dust raised by the hoofs of that horse as it walked in close adjacence to Arjuna, looked as beautiful as that raised by the celestial steed Uchchaisravas. And as Arjuna advanced he heard many gladdening words uttered by the citizens. "By good luck, O Partha, thou art out of danger. Praise to you and king Yudhishthira! Who else than Arjuna could come back after having caused the horse to wander over the whole Earth and after having vanquished all the kings in battle? We have not heard of such a feat having been achieved by even Sagara and other high-souled kings of antiquity. Future kings also will never be able to accomplish so difficult a feat, O foremost one of Kuru's race, as this which thou hast achieved." Listening to such words, agreeable to the ear, of the citizens, the righteous-souled Phalguna entered the sacrificial compound. Then king Yudhishthira with all his ministers, and Krishna, the delighter of the Yadus, placing Dhritarashtra in their van, went out for receiving Dhananjaya. Saluting the feet of his sire (Dhritarashtra), and then of king Yudhishthira the just of great wisdom, and then worshipping Bhima and others, he embraced Kesava. Worshipped by them all and worshipping them in return according to due rites, the mighty-armed hero, accompanied by those princes, took rest like a ship-wrecked man tossed on the waves resting on reaching the shore. Meanwhile king Vabhruvahan of great wisdom, accompanied by his mothers (Chitrangada and Ulupi), came to the Kuru capital. The mighty-armed prince duly saluted all his seniors of Kuru's race and the other kings present there, and was honoured by them all in return. He then entered the excellent abode of his grand-mother Kunti.'" SECTION LXXXVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Entering the palace of the Pandavas the mighty-armed prince saluted his grand-mother in soothing and sweet accents. Then queen Chitrangada, and (Ulupi) the daughter of (the snake) Kauravya, together approached Partha and Krishna with humility. They then met Subhadra and the other ladies of the Kuru race with due formalities. Kunti gave them many gems and costly things. Draupadi and Subhadra and the other ladies of Kuru's race all made presents to them. The two ladies took up their residence there, using costly beds and seats, treated with affection and respect by Kunti herself from desire of doing what was agreeable to Partha. King Vabhruvahana of great energy, duly honoured (by Kunti), then met Dhritarashtra according to due rites. Repairing then to king Yudhishthira and Bhima and the other Pandavas, the mighty prince of Manipura saluted them all with humility. They all embraced him with great affection and honoured him duly. And those mighty car-warriors highly gratified with him, made large gifts of wealth unto him. The king of Manipura then humbly approached Krishna, that hero armed with the discus and the mace, like a second Pradyumna approaching his sire. Krishna gave unto the king a very costly and excellent car adorned with gold and unto which were yoked excellent steeds. Then king Yudhishthira the just, and Bhima, and Phalguna, and the twins, each separately honoured him and made costly presents unto him. On the third day, the sage Vyasa, the son of Satyavati, that foremost of eloquent men, approaching Yudhishthira said,--"From this day, O son of Kunti, do thou begin thy sacrifice. The time for it has come. The moment for commencing the rite is at hand. The priests are urging thee. Let the sacrifice be performed in such a way that no limb may become defective. In consequence of the very large quantity of gold that is required for this sacrifice, it has come to be called the sacrifice of profuse gold. Do thou also, O great king, make the Dakshina of this sacrifice three times of what is enjoined. Let the merit of thy sacrifice increase threefold. The Brahmanas are competent for the purpose.[205] Attaining to the merits then of three Horse-sacrifices, each with profuse presents, thou shalt be freed, O king, from the sin of having slain thy kinsmen. The bath that one performs upon completion of the Horse-sacrifice, O monarch, is highly cleansing and productive of the highest merit. That merit will be thine, O king of Kuru's race." Thus addressed by Vyasa of immeasurable intelligence, the righteous-souled Yudhishthira of great energy underwent the Diksha for performance of the Horse-sacrifice.[206] The mighty-armed monarch then performed the great Horse-sacrifice characterised by gifts of food and presents in profusion and capable of fructifying every wish and producing every merit. The priests, well conversant with the Vedas, did every rite duly, moving about in all directions. They were all well-trained, and possessed of omniscience. In nothing was there a swerving from the ordinances and nothing was done improperly. Those foremost of regenerate persons followed the procedure as laid down (in the scriptures) and as it should be followed in those points about which no directions are given.[207] Those best of regenerate ones, having first performed the rite called Pravargya, otherwise called Dharma, then duly went through the rite of Abhishava, O king.[208] Those foremost of Soma-drinkers, O monarch, extracting the juice of the Soma, then performed the Savana rite following the injunctions of the scriptures. Among those that came to that sacrifice none could be seen who was cheerless, none who was poor, none who was hungry, none who was plunged into grief, and none that seemed to be vulgar. Bhimasena of mighty energy at the command of the king, caused food to be ceaselessly distributed among those that desired to eat. Following the injunctions of the scriptures, priests, well-versed in sacrificial rites of every kind, performed every day all the acts necessary to complete the great sacrifice. Amongst the Sadasayas of king Yudhishthira of great intelligence there was none who was not well conversant with the six branches of (Vedic) learning. There was none among them that was not an observer of vows, none that was not an Upadhyaya, none that was not well versed in dialectical disputations. When the time came for erecting the sacrificial stake, O chief of Bharata's race, six stakes were set up that were made of Vilwa,[209] six that were made of Khadira, and six that were made of Saravarnin. Two stakes were set up by the priests that were made of Devadaru in that sacrifice of the Kuru king, and one that was made of Sleshmataka. At the command of the king, Bhima caused some other stakes to be set up, for the sake of beauty only, that were made of gold. Adorned with fine cloths supplied by the royal sage, those stakes shone there like Indra and the deities with the seven celestial Rishis standing around them in Heaven. A number of golden bricks were made for constructing therewith a Chayana. The Chayana made resembled in beauty that which had been made for Daksha, the lord of creatures (on the occasion of his great sacrifice). The Chayana measured eight and ten cubits and four stories or lairs. A golden bird, of the shape of Garuda, was then made, having three angles.[210] Following the injunctions of the scriptures, the priests possessed of great learning then duly tied to the stakes both animals and birds, assigning each to its particular deity.[211] Bulls, possessed of such qualifications as are mentioned in the scriptures, and aquatic animals were properly tied to the stakes after the rites relating to the sacrificial fire had been performed. In that sacrifice of the high-souled son of Kunti, three hundred animals were tied to the stakes set up, including that foremost of steeds. That sacrifice looked exceedingly beautiful as if adorned with the celestial Rishis, with the Gandharvas singing in chorus and the diverse tribes of Apsaras dancing in merriment. It teemed, besides, with Kimpurushas and was adorned with Kinnaras. All around it were abodes of Brahmanas crowned with ascetic success. There were daily seen the disciples of Vyasa, those foremost of regenerate ones, who are compilers of all branches of learning, and well conversant with sacrificial rites. There was Narada, and there was Tumvuru of great splendour. There were Viswavasu and Chitrasena and others, all of whom were proficient in music. At intervals of the sacrificial rites, those Gandharvas, skilled in music and well versed in dancing, used to gladden the Brahmanas who were engaged in the sacrifice.'" SECTION LXXXIX "Vaisampayana said, 'Having cooked, according to due rites, the other excellent animals that were sacrificed, the priests then sacrificed, agreeably to the injunctions of the scriptures, that steed (which had wandered over the whole world). After cutting that horse into pieces, conformably to scriptural directions, they caused Draupadi of great intelligence, who was possessed of the three requisites of mantras, things, and devotion, to sit near the divided animal. The Brahmanas then with cool minds, taking up the marrow of that steed, cooked it duly, O chief of Bharata's race. King Yudhishthira the just, with all his younger brothers, then smelled, agreeably to the scriptures, the smoke, capable of cleansing one from every sin, of the marrow that was thus cooked. The remaining limbs, O king, of that horse, were poured into the fire by the sixteen sacrificial priests possessed of great wisdom. Having thus completed the sacrifice of that monarch, who was endued with the energy of Sakra himself, the illustrious Vyasa with his disciples eulogised the king greatly. Then Yudhishthira gave away unto the Brahmanas a thousand crores of golden nishkas, and unto Vyasa he gave away the whole Earth. Satyavati's son Vyasa, having accepted the Earth, addressed that foremost one of Bharata's race, viz., king Yudhishthira the just, and said, "O best of kings, the Earth which thou hast given me I return unto thee. Do thou give me the purchasing value, for Brahmanas are desirous of wealth (and have no use with the Earth)." The high-souled Yudhishthira of great intelligence staying with his brothers in the midst of the kings invited to his sacrifice, said unto those Brahmanas, "The Dakshina ordained in the scriptures for the great Horse-sacrifice is the Earth. Hence, I have given away unto the sacrificial priests the Earth conquered by Arjuna. Ye foremost of Brahmanas, I shall enter the woods. Do ye divide the Earth among yourselves. Indeed, do you divide the Earth into four parts according to what is done in the Chaturhotra sacrifice. Ye best of regenerate ones I do not desire to appropriate what now belongs to the Brahmanas. Even this, ye learned Brahmanas, has been the intention always cherished by myself and my brothers." When the king said these words, his brothers and Draupadi also said, "Yes, it is even so." Great was the sensation created by this announcement. Then, O Bharata, an invisible voice was heard in the welkin, saying,--"Excellent, Excellent!" The murmurs also of crowds of Brahmanas as they spoke arose. The Island-born Krishna, highly applauding him, once more addressed Yudhishthira, in the presence of the Brahmanas, saying, "The Earth has been given by thee to me. I, however, give her back to thee. Do thou give unto these Brahmanas gold. Let the Earth be thine." Then Vasudeva, addressing king Yudhishthira the just, said, "It behoveth thee to do as thou art bid by the illustrious Vyasa." Thus addressed, the foremost one of Kuru's race, along with all his brothers, became glad of soul, and gave away millions of golden coins, in fact, trebling the Dakshina ordained for the Horse-sacrifice. No other king will be able to accomplish what the Kuru king accomplished on that occasion after the manner of Marutta. Accepting that wealth, the Island-born sage, Krishna, of great learning, gave it unto the sacrificial priests, dividing it into four parts. Having paid that wealth as the price of the Earth, Yudhishthira, cleansed of his sins and assured of Heaven rejoiced with his brothers. The sacrificial priests, having got that unlimited quantity of wealth, distributed it among the Brahmanas gladly and according to the desire of each recipient. The Brahmanas also divided amongst themselves, agreeably to Yudhishthira's permission, the diverse ornaments of gold that were in the sacrificial compound, including the triumphal arches, the stakes, the jars, and diverse kinds of vessels. After the Brahmanas had taken as much as they desired, the wealth that remained was taken away by Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras and diverse tribes of Mlechcchas. Thus gratified with presents by king Yudhishthira of great intelligence, the Brahmanas, filled with joy, returned to their respective abodes. The holy and illustrious Vyasa respectfully presented his own share, which was very large, of that gold unto Kunti. Receiving that gift of affection from her father-in-law, Pritha became glad of heart and devoted it to the accomplishment of diverse acts of merit. King Yudhishthira, having bathed at the conclusion of his sacrifice and become cleansed of all his sins, shone in the midst of his brothers, honoured by all, like the chief of the celestials in the midst of the denizens of Heaven. The sons of Pandu, surrounded by the assembled kings, looked as beautiful, O king, as the planets in the midst of the stars. Unto those kings they made presents of various jewels and gems, and elephants and horses and ornaments of gold, and female slaves and cloths and large measures of gold. Indeed, Pritha's son by distributing that untold wealth among the invited monarchs, shone, O king, like Vaisravana, the lord of treasures. Summoning next the heroic king Vabhruvahana, Yudhishthira gave unto him diverse kinds of wealth in profusion and gave him permission to return home. The son of Pandu, for gratifying his sister Dussala, established her infant grandson in his paternal kingdom. The Kuru king Yudhishthira, having a full control over his senses, then dismissed the assembled kings all of whom had been properly classed and honoured by him.[212] The illustrious son of Pandu, that chastiser of foes, then duly worshipped the high-souled Govinda and Valadeva of great might, and the thousands of other Vrishni heroes having Pradyumna for their first. Assisted by his brothers, he then dismissed them for returning to Dwaraka. Even thus was celebrated that sacrifice of king Yudhishthira the just, which was distinguished by a profuse abundance of food and wealth and jewels and gems, and oceans of wines of different kinds. There were lakes whose mire consisted of ghee, and mountains of food. There were also, O chief of Bharata's race, miry rivers made of drinks having the six kinds of taste. Of men employed in making and eating the sweetmeats called Khandavaragas, and of animals slain for food, there was no end.[213] The vast space abounded with men inebriated with wine, and with young ladies filled with joy. The extensive grounds constantly echoed with the sounds of drums and the blare of conches. With all these, the sacrifice became exceedingly delightful. "Let agreeable things be given away,"--"Let agreeable food be eaten,"--these were the sounds that were repeatedly heard day and night in that sacrifice. It was like a great festival, full of rejoicing and contented men. People of diverse realms speak of that sacrifice to this day. Having showered wealth in torrents, and diverse objects of desire, and jewels and gems, and drinks of various kinds, the foremost one of Bharata's race, cleansed of all his sins, and his purpose fulfilled, entered his capital.'" SECTION XC "Janamejaya said, 'It behoveth thee to tell me of any wonderful incident that occurred in the sacrifice of my grandsires.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Hear, O chief of kings of a most wonderful incident that occurred, O puissant monarch, at the conclusion of that great horse-sacrifice. After all the foremost of Brahmanas and all the kinsmen and relatives and friends, and all the poor, the blind, and the helpless ones had been gratified, O chief of Bharata's race, when the gifts made in profusion were being spoken of on all sides, indeed, when flowers were rained down on the head of king Yudhishthira the just, a blue-eyed mongoose, O sinless one, with one side of his body changed into gold, came there and spoke in a voice that was as loud and deep as thunder. Repeatedly uttering such deep sounds and thereby frightening all animals and birds, that proud denizen of a hole, with large body, spoke in a human voice and said, "Ye kings, this great sacrifice is not equal to a prastha of powdered barley given away by a liberal Brahmana of Kurukshetra who was observing the Unccha vow." Hearing these words of the mongoose, O king, all those foremost of Brahmanas became filled with wonder. Approaching the mongoose, they then asked him, saying, "Whence hast thou come to this sacrifice, this resort of the good and the pious? What is the extent of thy might? What thy learning? And what thy refuge? How should we know thee that thus censurest this our sacrifice? Without having disregarded any portion of the scriptures, everything that should be done has been accomplished here according to the scriptures and agreeably to reason, with the aid of diverse sacrificial rites. Those who are deserving of worship have been duly worshipped here according to the way pointed out by the scriptures. Libations have been poured on the sacred fire with the aid of proper mantras. That which should be given has been given away without pride. The regenerate class have been gratified with gifts of diverse kinds. The Kshatriyas have been gratified with battles fought according to just methods. The grandsires have been gratified with Sraddhas. The Vaisyas have been gratified by the protection offered to them, and many foremost of women have been gratified by accomplishing their desires. The Sudras have been gratified by kind speeches, and others with the remnants of the profuse wealth collected on the spot. Kinsmen and relatives have been gratified by the purity of behaviour displayed by our king. The deities have been gratified by libations of clarified butter and acts of merit, and dependants and followers by protection. That therefore, which is true, do thou truly declare unto these Brahmanas. Indeed, do thou declare what is agreeable to the scriptures and to actual experience, asked by the Brahmanas who are eager to know. Thy words seem to demand credit. Thou art wise. Thou bearest also a celestial form. Thou hast come into the midst of learned Brahmanas. It behoveth thee to explain thyself." Thus addressed by those regenerate persons, the mongoose, smiling, answered them as follows. "Ye regenerate ones, the words I have uttered are not false. Neither have I spoken them from pride. That which I have said may have been heard by you all. Ye foremost of regenerate persons, this sacrifice is not equal in merit to the gift of a prastha of powdered barley. Without doubt, I should say this, ye foremost of Brahmanas. Listen to me with undivided attention as I narrate what happened to thee truly. Wonderful and excellent was the occurrence that fell out. It was witnessed by me and its consequences were felt by me. The incident relates to a liberal Brahmana dwelling in Kurukshetra in the observance of the Unccha vow. In consequence of that incident he attained to Heaven, ye regenerate ones, along with his wife and son and daughter-in-law. And in consequence of what then happened half my body became transformed into gold." "'The Mongoose continued, "Ye regenerate ones, I shall presently tell you what the excellent fruit was of the gift, made by a Brahmana, of a very little measure (of powdered barley) obtained by lawful means. On that righteous spot of ground known by the name of Kurukshetra, which is the abode of many righteous persons, there lived a Brahmana in the observance of what is called the Unccha vow. That mode of living is like unto that of the pigeon.[214] He lived there with his wife and son and daughter-in-law and practised penances. Of righteous soul, and with senses under complete control, he adopted the mode of living that is followed by a parrot. Of excellent vows, he used to eat everyday at the sixth division.[215] If there was nothing to eat at the sixth division of the day, that excellent Brahmana would fast for that day and eat the next day at the sixth division. On one occasion, ye Brahmanas, there occurred a dreadful famine in the land. During that time there was nothing stored in the abode of that righteous Brahmana. The herbs and plants were all dried up and the whole realm became void of foodstore. When the accustomed hours came for eating, the Brahmana had nothing to eat. This occurred day after day. All the members of his family were afflicted with hunger but were obliged to pass the days as best they could. One day, in the month of Jaishtha, while the Sun was in the meridian, the Brahmana was engaged in picking up grains of corn. Afflicted by heat and hunger, he was practising even this penance. Unable to obtain grains of corn, the Brahmana soon became worn out with hunger and toil. Indeed, with all the members of his family, he had no food to eat. That best of Brahmanas passed the days in great suffering. One day, after the sixth division came, he succeeded in obtaining a prastha of barley. That barley was then reduced by those ascetics to powder for making what is called Saktu of it. Having finished their silent recitations and other daily rites, and having duly poured libations on the sacred fire, those ascetics divided that little measure of powdered barley amongst themselves so that the share of each came up to the measure of a Kudava.[216] As they were about to sit down for eating, there came unto their abode a guest. Beholding the person who came as a guest, all of them became exceedingly glad. Indeed, seeing him, they saluted him and made the usual enquiries of welfare. They were of pure minds, self-restrained, and endued with faith and control over the passions. Freed from malice, they had conquered wrath. Possessed of piety, they were never pained at the sight of other people's happiness. They had cast off pride and haughtiness and anger. Indeed, they were conversant with every duty, ye foremost of regenerate ones. Informing their guest of their own penances and of the race or family to which they belonged, and ascertaining from him in return those particulars, they caused that hungry guest of theirs to enter their cottage. Addressing him they said, 'This is the Arghya for thee. This water is for washing thy feet. There are scattered some Kusa grass for thy seat, O sinless one. Here is some clean Saktu acquired by lawful means, O puissant one. Given by us, O foremost of regenerate persons, do thou accept it,' Thus addressed by them, that Brahmana accepted the Kudava of powdered barley that was offered to him and ate it all. But his hunger, O king, was not appeased by what he ate. The Brahmana in the observance of the Unccha vow, seeing that his guest's hunger was still unappeased, began to think of what other food he could place before him for gratifying him. Then his wife said unto him,--'Let my share be given unto him. Let this foremost of regenerate persons be gratified and let him then go whithersoever he will.' Knowing that his chaste wife who said so was herself afflicted by hunger, that best of Brahmanas could not approve of her share of the powdered barley being given to the guest. Indeed, that best of Brahmanas possessed of learning, knowing from his own state that his aged, toil-worn, cheerless, and helpless wife was herself afflicted by hunger and seeing that lady who had been emaciated into mere skin and bone was quivering with weakness, addressed her and said, 'O beautiful one, with even animals, with even worms and insects, wives are fed and protected. It behoveth thee not, therefore, to say so. The wife treats her lord with kindness and feeds and protects him. Everything appertaining to religion, pleasure, and wealth, careful nursing, offspring for perpetuating the race, are all dependent on the wife. Indeed, the merits of a person himself as also of his deceased ancestors depend also on her. The wife should know her lord by his acts. Verily, that man who fails to protect his wife earns great infamy here and goes into Hell hereafter. Such a man falls down from even a position of great fame and never succeeds in acquiring regions of happiness hereafter.' Thus addressed, she answered him, saying, 'O regenerate one, our religious acts and wealth are united. Do thou take a fourth of this barley. Indeed, be gratified with me. Truth, pleasure, religious merit, and Heaven as acquirable, by good qualities, of women, as also all the objects of their desire, O foremost of regenerate ones, are dependent on the husband. In the production of offspring the mother contributes her blood. The father contributes his seed. The husband is the highest deity of the wife. Through the grace of the husband, women obtain both pleasure and offspring as the reward. Thou art my Pati (lord) for the protection thou givest me. Thou art my Bhartri for the means of sustenance thou givest me. Thou art, again, boon-giver to me in consequence of thy having presented me a son. Do thou, therefore, (in return for so many favours), take my share of the barley and give it unto the guest. Overcome by decrepitude, thou art of advanced years. Afflicted by hunger thou art exceedingly weakened. Worn out with fasts, thou art very much emaciated. (If thou couldst part with thy share, why should not I part with mine).' Thus addressed by her, he took her share of the powdered barley and addressing his guest said,--'O regenerate one, O best of men, do thou accept this measure of powdered barley as well.' The Brahmana, having accepted that quantity, immediately ate it up, but his hunger was not yet appeased. Beholding him ungratified, the Brahmana in the observance of the Unccha vow became thoughtful. His son then said unto him, 'O best of men, taking my share of the barley do thou give it to the guest. I regard this act of mine as one of great merit. Therefore, do it. Thou shouldst be always maintained by me with great care. Maintenance of the father is a duty which the good always covet. The maintenance of the father in his old age is the duty ordained for the son. Even this is the eternal sruti (audition) current in the three worlds, O learned Rishi. By barely living thou art capable of practising penances. The life-breath is the great deity that resides in the bodies of all embodied creatures.'[217] "'"The father, at this, said, 'If thou attainest to the age of even a thousand years, thou wilt still seem to me to be only a little child. Having begotten a son, the sire achieves success through him. O puissant one, I know that the hunger of children is very strong. I am old. I shall somehow succeed in holding my life-breaths. Do thou, O son, become strong (by eating the food that has fallen to thy share). Old and decrepit as I am, O son, hunger scarcely afflicts me. I have, again, for many years, practised penances. I have no fear of death.' "'"The son said, 'I am thy offspring. The Sruti declares that one's offspring is called putra because one is rescued by him. One's own self, again, takes birth as one's son. Do thou, therefore, rescue thyself by thy own self (in the form of thy son).' "'"The father said, 'In form thou art like me. In conduct and in self-restraint also thou art my like. Thou hast been examined on various occasions by me. I shall, therefore, accept thy share of the barley, O son.' Having said this, that foremost of regenerate persons cheerfully took his son's share of the barley and smilingly presented it to his regenerate guest. Having eaten that barley also, the guest's hunger was not appeased. The righteous-souled host in the observance of the unccha vow became ashamed (at the thought that he had nothing more to give). Desirous of doing what was agreeable to him, his chaste daughter-in-law then, bearing her share of the barley, approached him and said, 'Through thy son, O learned Brahmana, I shall obtain a son. Do thou, therefore, take my share of the barley and give it unto this guest. Through thy grace, numerous regions of beatitude will be mine for eternity. Through the grandson one obtains those regions repairing whither one has not to endure any kind of misery. Like the triple aggregate beginning with Religion, or the triple aggregate of sacred fires, there is a triple aggregate of everlasting Heavens, depending upon the son, the grandson, and the great-grandson. The son is called Putra because he frees his sires from debt. Through sons and grandsons one always enjoys the happiness of those regions which are reserved for the pious and the good.' "'"The father-in-law said, 'O thou of excellent vows and conduct, beholding thee wasted by wind and sun, deprived of thy very complexion, emaciated and almost destitute of consciousness through hunger, how can I be such a transgressor against the rules of righteousness as to take thy share of the barley? O auspicious damsel, it behoves thee not to say so, for the sake of those auspicious results for which every family must strive.[218] O auspicious damsel, how can I behold thee at even this, the sixth division of the day, abstaining from food and observing vows? Thou art endued with purity and good conduct and penances. Alas, even thou hast to pass thy days in so much misery. Thou art a child, afflicted by hunger, and belongest to the softer sex. Thou shouldst be always protected by me. Alas, I have to see thee worn out with fasts, O thou that art the delighter of all thy kinsmen.' "'"The daughter-in-law said, 'Thou art the senior of my senior since thou art the deity of my deity. Thou art verily the god of my god. Do thou, therefore, O puissant one, take my share of the barley. My body, life-breaths, and religious rites have all one purpose viz., the service of my senior. Through thy grace, O learned Brahmana, I shall obtain many regions of happiness hereafter. I deserve to be looked after by thee. Know, O regenerate one, that I am wholly devoted to thee. Cherishing also this thought, viz., that my happiness is thy concern, it behoveth thee to take this my share of the barley.' "'"The father-in-law said, 'O chaste lady, in consequence of such conduct of thine thou wilt for ever shine in glory, for endued with vows and steadiness in religious rites, thy eyes are directed to that conduct which should be observed towards seniors. Therefore, O daughter-in-law, I shall take thy share of the barley. Thou deservest not to be deceived by me, reckoning all thy virtues. Thou art truly, O blessed damsel, the foremost of all persons observing the duties of righteousness.' Having said so unto her, the Brahmana took her share of the barley and gave it unto his guest. At this the guest became gratified with the high-souled Brahmana endued with great piety. With gratified soul, that first of regenerate person, possessed of great eloquence, who was none else than the deity of Righteousness in a human form, then addressed that foremost of Brahmanas and said, 'O best of regenerate ones, I am exceedingly gratified with this pure gift of thine, this gift of what was acquired by lawful means by thee, and which thou didst freely part with, agreeably to the rules of righteousness. Verily, this gift of thine is being bruited about in Heaven by the denizens of that happy region. Behold, flowers have been rained down from the firmament on the Earth. The celestial Rishis, the deities, the Gandharvas, those who walk before the deities, and the celestial messengers, are all praising thee, struck with wonder at thy gift. The regenerate Rishis who dwell in the regions of Brahma, seated on their cars, are solicitous of obtaining thy sight. O foremost of regenerate persons, go to Heaven. The Pitris residing in their own region have all been rescued by thee. Others also who have not attained to the position of Pitris have equally been rescued by thee for countless Yugas. For thy Brahmacharyya, thy gifts, thy sacrifices, thy penances, and thy acts of piety done with a pure heart, go thou to Heaven. O thou of excellent vows, thou practisest penances with great devotion. Thy gifts have, therefore, gratified the deities highly, O best of regenerate ones. Since thou hast made this gift, in a season of great difficulty, with a pure heart, thou hast, by this act of thine, conquered Heaven. Hunger destroys one's wisdom and drives off one's righteous understanding. One whose intelligence is overwhelmed by hunger casts off all fortitude. He, therefore, that conquers hunger conquers Heaven without doubt. One's righteousness is never destroyed as long as one cherishes the inclination of making gifts. Disregarding filial affection, disregarding the affection one feels for one's wife, and reckoning righteousness as the foremost, thou hast paid no heed to the cravings of nature. The acquisition of wealth is an act of slight merit. Its gift to a deserving person is fraught with greater merit. Of still greater merit is the (proper) time. Lastly, devotion (in the matter of gift) is fraught with the highest merit. The door of Heaven is very difficult to see. Through heedlessness men fail to obtain a sight of it. The bar of Heaven's door has cupidity for its seed. That bar is kept fastened by desire and affection. Verily, Heaven's door is unapproachable. Those men who subdued wrath and conquered their passions, those Brahmanas who are endued with penances and who make gifts according to the measure of their ability, succeed in beholding it. It has been said that he that gives away a hundred, having a thousand, he that gives away ten, having a hundred, and he that gives a handful of water, having no wealth, are all equal in respect of the merit they earn. King Rantideva, when divested of all his wealth, gave a small quantity of water with a pure heart. Through this gift, O learned Brahmana, he went to Heaven. The deity of righteousness is never gratified so much with large gifts of costly things as with gifts of even things of no value, if acquired lawfully and given away with devotion and faith. King Nriga had made gifts of thousands of kine unto the regenerate class. By giving away only one cow that did not belong to him, he fell into Hell. Usinara's son Sivi of excellent vows, by giving away the flesh of his own body, is rejoicing in Heaven, having attained to the regions of the righteous. Mere wealth is not merit. Good men acquire merit by exerting to the best of their power and with the aid of pious meals. One does not acquire such merit by means of even diverse sacrifices as with even a little wealth that has been earned lawfully. Through wrath, the fruits of gifts are destroyed. Through cupidity one fails to go to Heaven. One conversant with the merits of gift, and leading a just course of conduct succeeds, through penances, in enjoying Heaven. The fruit, O Brahmana, of this gift made by thee (of a prastha of powdered barley) is much greater than what one acquires by many Rajasuya sacrifices with profuse gifts or many Horse-sacrifices. With this prastha of powdered barley thou hast conquered the eternal region of Brahman. Go thou in happiness, O learned Brahmana, to the abode of Brahman that is without the stain of darkness. O foremost of regenerate persons, a celestial car is here for all of you. Do thou ascend it as pleasest thee. O Brahmana, I am the deity of Righteousness. Behold me! Thou hast rescued thy body. The fame of thy achievement will last in the world. With thy wife, thy son, and thy daughter-in-law, go now to Heaven.'--After the deity of Righteousness had said these words, that Brahmana, with his wife, son and daughter-in-law, proceeded to Heaven. After that learned Brahmana, conversant with all duties, had thus ascended to Heaven with his son, daughter-in-law, and wife numbering the fourth, I came out of my hole. There with the scent of that powdered barley, with the mire caused by the water (which the Brahmana had given to his guest), with the contact (of my body) with the celestial flowers that had been rained down, with the particles of the barley-powder which that good man had given away, and the penances of that Brahmana, my head became gold. Behold, in consequence of the gift of that Brahmana who was firm in truth, and his penances, half of this my ample body has become golden. Ye regenerate ones, for converting the rest of my body into gold I repeatedly repair, with a cheerful heart, to the retreats of ascetics and the sacrifices performed by kings. Hearing of this sacrifice of the Kuru king endued with great wisdom, I came hither with high hopes. I have not, however, been made gold. Ye foremost of Brahmanas, it was for this that I uttered those words, viz., that this sacrifice can by no means compare with (the gift of) that prastha of powdered barley. With the grains of that prastha of powdered barley, I was made gold on that occasion. This great sacrifice however, is not equal to those grains. Even this is my opinion." Having said those words unto all those foremost of Brahmanas, the mongoose disappeared from their sight. Those Brahmanas then returned to their respective homes.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O conquerer of hostile towns, I have now told thee all relating to that wonderful incident which occurred in that great Horse-sacrifice. Thou shouldst not, O king, think highly of sacrifice. Millions of Rishis have ascended to Heaven with the aid of only their penances. Abstention from injury as regards all creatures, contentment, conduct, sincerity, penances, self-restraint, truthfulness, and gifts are each equal in point of merit to sacrifice.'" SECTION XCI "Janamejaya said, 'O puissant Rishi, kings are attached to sacrifices. The great Rishis are attached to penances. Learned Brahmanas are observant of tranquillity of mind, peacefulness of behaviour, and self-restraint. Hence it seems that nothing can be seen in this world which can compare with the fruits of sacrifices. Even this is my conviction. That conviction, again, seems to be undoubtedly correct. Innumerable kings, O best of regenerate persons, having worshipped the deities in sacrifices, earned high fame here and obtained Heaven hereafter. Endued with great energy, the puissant chief of the deities viz., Indra of a thousand eyes, obtained the sovereignty over the deities through the many sacrifices he performed with gifts in profusion and attained to the fruition of all his wishes. When king Yudhishthira, with Bhima and Arjuna by him, resembled the chief of the deities himself in prosperity and prowess, why then did that mongoose depreciate that great Horse-sacrifice of the high-souled monarch?' "Vaisampayana said, 'Do thou listen to me, O king, as I discourse to thee duly, O Bharata, on the excellent ordinances relating to sacrifice and the fruits also, O ruler of men, that sacrifice yields. Formerly, on one occasion Sakra performed a particular sacrifice. While the limbs of the sacrifice were spread out, the Ritwijas became busy in accomplishing the diverse rites ordained in the scriptures. The pourer of libations, possessed of every qualification, became engaged in pouring libations of clarified butter. The great Rishis were seated around. The deities were summoned one by one by contented Brahmanas of great learning uttering scriptural Mantras in sweet voices. Those foremost of Adhwaryyus, not fatigued with what they did, recited the Mantras of the Yajurveda in soft accents. The time came for slaughtering the animals. When the animals selected for sacrifice were seized, the great Rishis, O king, felt compassion for them. Beholding that the animals had all become cheerless, those Rishis, endued with wealth of penances, approached Sakra and said unto him, "This method of sacrifice is not auspicious. Desirous of acquiring great merit as thou art, this is verily an indication of thy unacquaintance with sacrifice. O Purandara, animals have not been ordained to be slaughtered in sacrifices. O puissant one, these preparations of thine are destructive of merit. This sacrifice is not consistent with righteousness. The destruction of creatures can never be said to be an act of righteousness. If thou wishest it, let thy priests perform thy sacrifice according to the Agama. By performing a sacrifice according to the (true import of the) scriptural ordinances, great will be the merit achieved by thee. O thou of a hundred eyes, do thou perform the sacrifice with seeds of grain that have been kept for three years. Even this, O Sakra, would be fraught with great righteousness and productive of fruits of high efficacy." The deity of a hundred sacrifices, however, influenced by pride and overwhelmed by stupefaction, did not accept these words uttered by the Rishis. Then, O Bharata, a great dispute arose in that sacrifice of Sakra between the ascetics as to how sacrifices should be performed, that is, should they be performed with mobile creatures or with immobile objects. All of them were worn out with disputation. The Rishis then, those beholders of truth, having made an understanding with Sakra (about referring the matter to arbitration) asked king Vasu, "O highly blessed one, what is the Vedic declaration about sacrifices? Is it preferable to perform sacrifices with animals or with seeds and juices?" Hearing the question, king Vasu, without all judging of the strength or weakness of the arguments on the two sides, at once answered, saying, "Sacrifices may be performed with whichever of the two kinds of objects is ready." Having answered the question thus, he had to enter the nether regions. Indeed the puissant ruler of the Chedis had to undergo that misery for having answered falsely. Therefore, when a doubt arises, no person, however wise, should singly decide the matter, unless he be the puissant and self-born Lord himself of creatures. Gifts made by a sinner with an impure understanding, even when they are very large, become lost. Such gifts go for nothing. By the gifts made by a person of unrighteous conduct,--one, that is, who is of sinful soul and who is a destroyer, just fame is never acquired either here or hereafter. That person of little intelligence who, from desire of acquiring merit, performs sacrifices with wealth acquired by unrighteous means, never succeeds in earning merit. That low wretch of sinful soul, who hypocritically assuming a garb of righteousness makes gifts unto Brahmanas, only creates the conviction in men about his own righteousness (without earning true merit). That Brahmana of uncontrolled conduct, who acquires wealth by sinful acts, ever overwhelmed by passion and stupefaction, attains at last to the goal of the sinful. Someone, overwhelmed by cupidity and stupefaction, becomes bent on strong wealth. He is seen to persecute all creatures, urged by a sinful and impure understanding. He who, having acquired wealth by such means, makes gifts or performs sacrifices therewith, never enjoys the fruits of those gifts or sacrifices in the other world in consequence of the wealth having been earned by unrighteous means. Men endued with wealth of penances, by giving away, to the best of their power, grains of corn picked up from the fields or roots or fruits or pot-herbs or water or leaves, acquire great merit and proceed to Heaven. Even such gifts, as also compassion to all creatures, and Brahmacharyya, truthfulness of speech and kindness, and fortitude, and forgiveness, constitute the eternal foundations of Righteousness which itself is eternal. We hear of Viswamitra and other kings of ancient times. Indeed, Viswamitra, and Asita, and king Janaka, and Kakshasena and Arshtisena, and king Sindhudwipa,--these and many other kings, endued with wealth of penances, having made gifts of articles acquired lawfully, have attained to high success. Those amongst Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras who betake themselves to penances, O Bharata, and who purify themselves by gifts and other acts of righteousness, proceed to Heaven.'" SECTION XCII "Janamejaya said, 'If, O illustrious one, Heaven is the fruit of wealth acquired by lawful means, do thou discourse to me fully on it. Thou art well-conversant with the subject and therefore, it behoveth thee to explain it. O regenerate one, thou hast said unto me what the high fruit was that accrued unto that Brahmana, who lived according to the Unccha mode, through his gift of powdered barley. Without doubt, all thou hast said is true. In what way, however, was the attainment held certain of the highest end in all sacrifices? O foremost of regenerate persons, it behoveth thee to expound this to me in all its details.' "Vaisampayana said, 'In this connection is cited this old narrative, O chastiser of foes, of what occurred in former days in the great sacrifice of Agastya. In olden days, O king, Agastya of great energy, devoted to the good of all creatures, entered into a Diksha extending for twelve years.[219] In that sacrifice of the high-souled Rishi many Hotris were engaged that resembled blazing fires in the splendour of their bodies. Among them were men that subsisted upon roots or fruits, or that used two pieces of stone only for husking their corn, or that were supported by only the rays (of the moon). Among them were also men who never took any food unless it was placed before them by others solicitous of feeding them, and those who never ate anything without having first served the deities, the Pitris, and guests, and those who never washed the food which they took. There were also Yatis and Bikshus among them, O king. All of them were men who had obtained a sight of the deity of Righteousness in his embodied form. They had subjugated wrath and acquired a complete mastery over all their senses. Living in the observance of self-restraint, they were freed from pride and the desire of injuring others. They were always observant of a pure conduct and were never obstructed (in the prosecution of their purposes) by their senses. Those great Rishis attended that sacrifice and accomplished its various rites. The illustrious Rishi (Agastya) acquired the food that was collected in that sacrifice and that came up to the required measure, by lawful means according to the best of his power. Numerous other ascetics at that time performed large sacrifices. As Agastya, however, was engaged in that sacrifice of his, the thousand-eyed Indra, O best of the Bharatas, ceased to pour rain (on the Earth). At the intervals, O king, of the sacrificial rites, this talk occurred among those Rishis of cleansed souls about the high-souled Agastya, viz., "This Agastya, engaged in sacrifice, is making gifts of food with heart purged of pride and vanity. The deity of the clouds, however, has ceased to pour rain. How, indeed, will food grow? This sacrifice of the Rishi, ye Brahmanas, is great and extends for twelve years. The deity will not pour rain for these twelve years. Reflecting on this, it behoveth you to do some favour unto this Rishi of great intelligence, viz., Agastya of severe penances." When these words were said, Agastya of great prowess, gratifying those ascetics by bending his head, said, "If Vasava does not pour rain for those twelve years, I shall then perform the mental sacrifice. Even this is the eternal ordinance. If Vasava does not pour rain for these twelve years, I shall then perform the Touch-sacrifice. Even this is the eternal sacrifice. If Vasava does not pour rain for these twelve years, I shall then, putting forth all my exertion, make arrangements for other sacrifices characterised by the observance of the most difficult and severe vows. This present sacrifice of mine, with seeds, has been arranged for by me with labour extending for many years.[220] I shall, with seeds, accomplish much good. No impediment will arise. This my sacrifice is incapable of being baffled. It matters little whether the deity pours rains or no downpours happen. Indeed, if Indra does not, of his own will, show any regard for me, I shall, in that case, transform myself into Indra and keep all creatures alive. Every creature, on whatever food he has been nourished, will continue to be nourished on it as before. I can even repeatedly create a different order of things. Let gold and whatever else of wealth there is, come to this place today. Let all the wealth that occurs in the three worlds come here today of its own accord. Let all the tribes of celestial Apsaras, all the Gandharvas along with the Kinnaras, and Viswavasu, and others there are (of that order), approach this sacrifice of mine. Let all the wealth that exists among the Northern Kurus, come of their own accord to these sacrifices. Let Heaven, and all those who have Heaven for their home, and Dharma himself, come hither."--After the ascetic had uttered these words, everything happened as he wished, in consequence of his penances, for Agastya was endued with a mind that resembled a blazing fire and was possessed of extraordinary energy. The Rishis who were there beheld the power of penances with rejoicing hearts. Filled with wonder they then said these words of grave import.' "'The Rishis said, "We have been highly gratified with the words thou hast uttered. We do not, however, wish that thy penances should suffer any diminution. Those sacrifices are approved by us which are performed by lawful means. Indeed, we desire duly those sacrifices which rest on lawful means.[221] Earning our food by lawful means and observant of our respective duties, we shall seek to go through sacrificial initiations and the pouring of libations on the sacred fire and the other religious rites. We should adore the deities, practising Brahmacharyya by lawful means. Completing the period of Brahmacharyya we have come out of our abode, observing lawful methods. That understanding, which is freed from the desire of inflicting any kind of injury on others, is approved by us. Thou shouldst always, O puissant one, command such abstention from injury in all sacrifices. We shall then be highly gratified, O foremast of regenerate ones. After the completion of thy sacrifice, when dismissed by thee, we shall then, leaving this place, go away." As they were saying these words, Purandara, the chief of the deities, endued with great energy, beholding the power of Agastya's penances, poured rain. Indeed, O Janamejaya, till the completion of the sacrifice of that Rishi of immeasurable prowess, the deity of rain poured rain that met the wishes of men in respect of both quantity and time. Placing Vrihaspati before him, the chief of the deities came there, O royal sage, and gratified the Rishi Agastya. On the completion of that sacrifice, Agastya, filled with joy, worshipped those great Rishis duly and then dismissed them all.' "Janamejaya said, 'Who was that mongoose with a golden head, that said all those words in a human voice? Asked by me, do thou tell me this.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Thou didst not ask me before and, therefore, I did not tell thee. Hear as I tell thee who that mongoose was and why he could assume a human voice. In former times, the Rishi Jamadagni proposed to perform a Sraddha. His Homa cow came to him and the Rishi milked her himself. He then placed the milk in a vessel that was new, durable and pure. The deity Dharma, assuming the form of Anger, entered that vessel of milk. Indeed, Dharma was desirous of ascertaining what that foremost of Rishis would do when seeing some injury done to him. Having reflected thus, Dharma spoiled that milk. Knowing that the spoiler of his milk was Anger, the ascetic was not at all enraged with him. Anger, then, assuming the form of a Brahmana lady, showed himself to the Rishi. Indeed, Anger, finding that he had been conquered by that foremost one of Bhrigu's race, addressed him, saying, "O chief of Bhrigu's race, I have been conquered by thee. There is a saying among men that the Bhrigus are very wrathful. I now find that that saying is false, since I have been subdued by thee. Thou art possessed of a mighty soul. Thou art endued with forgiveness. I stand here today, owning thy sway. I fear thy penances, O righteous one. Do thou, O puissant Rishi, show me favour." "'Jamadagni said, "I have seen thee, O Anger, in thy embodied form. Go thou whithersoever thou likest, without any anxiety. Thou hast not done me any injury today. I have no grudge against thee. Those for whom I had kept this milk are the highly blessed Pitris. Present thyself before them and ascertain their intentions." Thus addressed, penetrated with fear, Anger vanished from the sight of the Rishi. Through the curse of the Pitris he became a mongoose. He then began to gratify the Pitris in order to bring about an end of his curse. By them he was told these words, "By speaking disrespectfully of Dharma thou shalt attain to the end of thy curse." Thus addressed by them he wandered over places where sacrifices were performed and over other sacred places, employed in censuring great sacrifices. It was he that came to the great sacrifice of king Yudhishthira. Dispraising the son of Dharma by a reference to the prastha of powdered barley, Anger became freed from his curse, for Yudhishthira (as Dharma's son) was Dharma's self. Even this is what occurred in the sacrifice of that high-souled king. Mongoose disappeared there in our very sight.'"[222] The end of Aswamedha Parva FOOTNOTES 1. Mahavahu occurs twice in this passage. One of the epithets is left out on the score of redundancy. 2. i.e., human sacrifice. From this it appears that the sacrifice of human beings was in vogue at the time. 3. King Marutta celebrated a sacrifice in the Himalayas, bestowing gold on Brahmanas. Not being able to carry the entire quantity, they had carried as much as they could, throwing away the remainder. 4. Digambara, i.e., in naked state. 5. Nityada always, left out on the ground of redundancy. 6. Bhutanam etc. is explained by Nilakantha as no swasya, and the vocative vibho is taken as Paramatman. 7. Agatagamam implies, as explained by the commentator, praptasastrarahasyam. 8. Nirakarasritena is explained by Nilakantha as Asamprajnatas-samadhi-samadhigamya Brhamabhavasritena, implying reliance on Brahman by having recourse to Samadhi or a suspension of all functions of both body and mind (through Yoga) and arrival at that state which is one of perfect unconsciousness. 9. The dissolution here spoken of is the Mahapralaya and not the Khanda or Avantara Pralayas. Till then, the sage will look upon all beings, i.e., their repeated migrations. 10. The commentator explains that altogether seven questions are asked. The first is about the dissolution of the body. The second relates to the manner of re-acquiring a body. The third has reference to the manner in which rebirth may be avoided. The fourth relates to the causes that operate for giving a body to Jiva. By Prakriti is meant Nature or that Nescience which is the cause of body. The fifth relates to the Anyat or Param, viz., how final Emancipation or absorption into Brahman takes place. The sixth pertains to the manner in which the fruits of acts are enjoyed or endured. The seventh enquires after the way in which acts attach to Jiva even when devoid of a body. 11. Kala here means both the season of the year and the age of the person. Food that is beneficial in summer is not so in winter, or that which is beneficial in youth is otherwise at old age. All the texts that I have seen have viditwa and not aviditiwa which Telang takes in his version for the Sacred Books of the East. Kala is always interpreted by the commentators of Charaka as referring to either period of life or period of the year. This, as well as the following verses, relates to the laws of health as expounded by Charaka. 12. The faults are three, viz., Wind, Bile, and Phlegm. When existing in a state of harmony, they produce health. When one is excited or two, or all, indisposition sets in. They are called dosha or faults, because of their liability to be excited and produce disease. Telang, not suspecting that the whole passage is a reproduction of a passage in the ancient work edited by Charaka, misunderstands some expressions and wrongly renders doshan into 'disorders.' 13. Jivitam in the second line seems to be an objective of sariram in the first. 14. Garbha-sankramane is explained by Nilakantha as entering the foetus in the womb after casting off the body appertaining to the other world. I think Telang is not correct in his version of 19 and 20. Atisarpana can never imply 'exhaustion'; hence, karmanam can never be the reading he adopts. Besides tadrisam seems to settle the question. The tortures felt at death are similar to those at birth. 15. Sambutatwam is sanhatatwam. Niyachachati is nasyyati. Vayu is understood in the second line, or that in the first line of the next verse may be taken as the nom. of niyachachati. 16. Pachante is phalam prayachhanti. 17. Nilakantha explains this verse in a different way. According to him it means,--'in consequence of his subtlety and imperceptibility, Jiva does not become attached to anything. For this reason, one possessed of a knowledge of Brahman, having become cognisant of Brahman and attained the great object of his desire, succeeds in becoming so (i.e., dissociated from all things).' This interpretation seems to be a little far-fetched. 18. Chetasa indicates upadhibhutena, for previously, Jiva was without upadhi. Pranasthaneshu implies Indriyagolokeshu or those vital parts which constitute the seats of the senses. Chetana does not, I think, mean 'consciousness.' It implies mind. 19. Causes them to grow. I do not follow Nilakantha here. 20. Nilakantha points out that one of the cha's indicates the reason or cause. Hence, the use of 'therefore' in the text. 21. Vikrita does not necessarily mean degraded. It implies 'changed or altered.' Jiva, who is pure and immaculate, takes birth in this world, falling away from his true status of Brahman owing to his acts. Acts, again, are eternal, no beginning being conceivable. 22. Parantwa-maritam-aksharam indicates two things, viz., Amritam and Aksharam. The first line speaks of Kshara, or the material case, or body; then of that which is para or other. This other is of two kinds, viz., Amritam or suddha-chaitanyam, implying Brahman in its condition of purity; and Aksharamt or Jiva as existing in the material case. In the second line, trayanam refers to Kshara, Amrita, and Akshara. Mithunam is duality, referring to that which is composed of Kshara and Akshara. What is stated in this verse is that every Purusha is a duality, made up of Kshara and Akshara. Telang gives a different version of the verse. He ignores the word trayanam totally, and takes Mithunam as implying a couple (male and female). All the texts I have seen contain trayanam. 23. Atra purvajamnani (vishaye) yatha kaschit Medhavi etc., (vadet), seems to be the correct order of the words. Telang translates the first line differently. 24. Ekayana is the one receptacle of all things, viz., Brahman. Tushni implies ahamevedam sarvamasmityabhimanamapyakurvan i.e., 'without even retaining the consciousness of his own identity with everything.' Kinchikachintayan--i.e., not even thinking that he is existing. Purvam purvam parityajya implies the gradual merging of the grosser in the subtler, i.e., the successive stages of Yoga before absorption into Brahman. I follow Nilakantha. 25. The first half of the second line of 8 is read differently in the Bengal texts. Aswasthamavasam mudham implies 'without ease or happiness, endued with slavery and ignorance.' 26. The Soul being destitute of these becomes Chinmatra, i.e., a pure Chit without the attributes superinduced upon it by Nescience or ignorance. 27. Formlessness implies subtlety. 'Without cause' implies increate or as identical with eternal Brahman. Dissociation from attributes while enjoying them implies an emancipate condition. 28. Nirvana, according to orthodox commentators, implies the annihilation or cessation of separate or individual existence by absorption into universal and eternal Brahman. 29. The impressions caused by objects outside self are destroyed by those belonging to contemplation. The latter, again, should be destroyed before absorption into Brahman can occur. 30. Siddham is explained as 'destitute of the errors due to Nescience.' 31. Attnanam is Chittam; atmani is dehe; charayan is antarmukham kritwa; nityam is adyantasunyam. So Nilakantha. 32. 'Fixing the mind upon the soul' is that concentration which leads to Emancipation. This becomes possible in consequence of severe austerities undergone previously. 33. I expand the verse a little to make it intelligible. The sense is this: having seen the supreme Soul in Samadhi, upon awaking from it, he recognises it in the universe, i.e., regards the universe to be nothing else than the Supreme Soul. 34. This may also mean 'he has none superior to him; not even he that is the Lord of the universe.' 35. The first line seems to be doubtful. The sense, as I understand it, is,--such a person becomes the god of the very gods. The causal verb karayate may be taken as equivalent to karoti. 36. I follow Nilakantha in rendering the second line. The sense is clear, viz., that one should not fall away from the practice of Yoga, tempted by the puissance that Yoga brings. Telang renders the line 'one practising concentration should never become despondent.' I think, Nilakantha is right. 37. Nilakantha notes that this indicates that only that Yogin who has not advanced much may be tempted by the desire of enjoyment. He, however, who has adequately devoted himself to Yoga feels no regard for Indra himself but can turn him away like Diogenes dismissing Alexander the Great. 38. I have endeavoured to render verses 33 to 37 as literally as possible, under the guide of Nilakantha, omitting his inferences. The passage relates to the mysteries of Yoga. In the second line of 33, drishtapurvam disam, which has been rendered 'that point of the compass which has the Sun behind it,' means the instructions laid down in the Vedanta as based upon Srutis. Drishtam implies 'Sruti', for it is as authoritative as anything seen. 'Pura' implies a city, a citadel, or a mansion. Here it refers to the body. The avasatha within the pura refers to the chakra or nervous centres beginning with what is called the muladhara. At the time when Brahman is realised, the whole universe appears as Brahman and so nothing exists, besides Brahman, upon which the mind can then dwell. Telang, I think, is not correct in rendering manaschasya ... vahyatah as 'his mind should not any way wander outside'. The correct version would 'the mind is then nowhere,' implying that at that time the mind has nothing else to dwell upon. Kayamabhyantaram is kayamabhi and antaram, i.e., both within and without the body. The several parts of the body named, beginning with teeth, etc, refer to eating and other operations, all of which influence the mind and dispose it for purity and otherwise. 39. i.e., that from which the entire universe has been created. 40. Probably, 'by any of the senses'. The plural form occurs in the original. 41. This answers the questions respecting the form of the Soul, says Nilakantha. 42. I render this verse, following Nilakantha's gloss. The second line of 50, according to that commentator, refers to the ascension of the Yogin from Brahma vested with attributes to Brahma divested of all attributes. The tam does not refer to body, as Telang takes it, but to Brahma as endued with hands and feet on all sides, etc. Deheswam dharayan means 'restraining the mind within the body'. Kevalam Brahma is Brahma without attributes. 43. The speaker here is the regenerate visitor of Krishna. The latter is repeating the words of that visitor. In this verse, Krishna, forgetting that he is merely reciting the words of another, refers to himself as the Supreme Brahman in whom one must merge for attaining to Emancipation. 44. The second line of 56 is read variously. 45. Heaven is the reward of those who follow the religion of Pravritti or acts, such as sacrifices, religious observances, etc. The followers, however, of the religion of Nivritti or inaction, i.e., they who betake themselves to the path of knowledge, become emancipated. The deities derive their sustenance from the former and become even jealous of the latter, for the emancipate state is higher than that of the deities themselves. 46. Avichakshanam is undiscerning, in the sense of the husband's not knowing that the interrogatrix as wife, has no other refuge than her lord with all his defects. 47. I follow Nilakantha. Telang adopts the views of Arjuna Misra and renders the first line as 'whatever acts are seized (by the touch, or seen, or heard, etc.') Grahyam, according to Nilakantha, implies those acts, like Diksha, etc, which are adopted with the aid of others. 48. This seat, says Nilakantha, is called Avimukta and lies between the eyebrows and the nose. 49. Nilakantha interprets this mystically. By Soma he understands the artery or duct called Ida, and by Agni the duct called Pingala. Dhira is Buddipreraka; vyavayam is sancharam. Dhirobhutani dharayan nityam vyavayam kurute is the order of the words. The sense is this: in this spot is seated Brahman; there Ida and Pingala meet; and there also is Vayu which urges the understanding and upholds all living creatures. 50. Yatra is not to be taken as a locative here. It is equivalent to yatah or for which. 51. Tasmin is taken, by Nilakantha as Apana sahite Prane. 52. Utkarshena anayati, hence Udana, says Nilakantha. The sense of the whole passage seems to be this. Worldly life is regulated by the life-breaths. These are attached to the Soul and lead to its individual manifestations. Udana controls all the breaths. Udana is controlled by penance. It is penance then that destroys the round of rebirths and leads to absorption into Brahman. 53. The meaning seems to be this: they who renounce sensuous objects can create them when they like. One casting off smell that has earth for its object can create earth when he likes. 54. What is stated in this passage is, shortly, this: the ear, etc, are the Hotris or sacrificing priests who are to pour libations on the sacrificial fire. The perceptions and functions of those organs constitute the Havi or libations that are to be poured. The points, wind, etc, are the Agni or sacred fires on which they are to be poured. These statements are recapitulated in verse 5. The objects of the senses, of the same as those in verse 3, are the fuel, previously described as Havi or libations, which are to be burnt off by being cast into the fires. 55. The Hridaya or heart is the Garhapatya fire. From it is produced another fire, the Ahavaniya, viz., the mind. 'The heart was pierced. From the heart arose mind, for the mind arose Chandramas,' is the declaration of the Sruti cited by Nilakantha. The Ahavaniya fire or mind is the mouth. Asyam ahavaniya is the Sruti. Annamayam hi Somya manas, apomayah pranah, tejomayi vak is the Sruti that bears upon this. Food or fire, poured into the mouth develops into speech or word. Vachaspati implies the Veda or word. First arises the word, the mind sets itself upon it, desirous of creation. This corresponds with the Mosaic Genesis.--'God said, let there be light, and there was light.' The word was first. 56. The last question seems to be this: in dreamless slumber, the mind disappears totally. If it is the mind upon which Prana rests, why does not Prana also disappear? It is seen to separate itself from mind, for it continues to exist while mind does not exist. If so, i.e., if existing, as it must be admitted to do, why does it not apprehend objects? What is it that restrains its powers of apprehension? 57. Bhutatmanam is ordinary Prajapati. Nilakantha takes it to mean here individual Jiva or self. 58. It is through words that desirable fruits, visible and invisible, are acquired. Of course, word means both ordinary speech and Vedic Mantras. 59. The speaker is the Brahmana, which Nilakantha explains to mean 'the Brahmana named Manas or Mind'. Instead of such a learned interpretation, we may take it as implying that the Brahmana is repeating the answer which Bhutatman, i.e., Prajapati or Jiva, made to Word. The Brahmana is the real speaker. He recites the words of Jiva. Immovable, according to Nilakantha, means 'that which is seizable by the external senses'; and 'movable', that which is beyond the ken of the senses, such as heaven, etc. The external world being only a manifestation of the mind, it is spoken of here as identical with it. So, the ideas in the mind which are not due to the senses, are only the mind. This is the movable mind. That mind depends on word or the scriptures. 60. Telang gives a different version of this verse. I offer a verbal rendering, without attempting to explain it. 61. i.e., as noisy or noiseless. 62. I have given as close a verbal rendering of the passage as possible. The sense, however, is not very intelligible to me. The gloss of Nilakantha is as unintelligible as the text. Telang also has given a verbal rendering which differs from the above slightly. His foot-notes do not, I think, bring out the meaning at all. As regards the two vernacular versions, both are useless. 63. The correct reading is cha after arthan and not twam after it. Hence, the Senses say that, 'without ourselves and without those which are our objects, thou canst not have thy enjoyments.' 64. Thus creatures may exist through us, even though mind may be out of order. 65. Both mental purposes and dreams having failed to gratify him. 66. The reading sarvam in the second line is incorrect, though Nilakantha adopts it. The different portions of the fire are indicated as the different attributes. The smoke is of the form of Darkness (Tamas); the ashes are the attributes of Passion; while the blazing flame, that into which the oblation is thrown, is the attribute of Goodness. 67. I give a close rendering of these verses, without endeavouring to bring out the sense as explained by the commentators. The printed texts are not correct. The text adopted by Nilakantha differs from that of Arjuna Misra. The very order of the verses is not uniform in all the texts. 68. 'These' refers to action, agent and instrument. The qualities of which they are possessed are goodness, passion, and darkness. 69. What is stated in these two verses is this: it is the Senses that enjoy and not the Soul. This is well known to those that are learned. On the other hand, those that are not learned, regard this or that to be theirs, when in reality they are different from them. They are their selves, and not their senses, although they take themselves for the latter, ignorantly identifying themselves with things which they are not. 70. What is stated here is this: Restraining the senses and the mind, the objects of those senses and the mind should be poured as libations on the sacred fire of the Soul that is within the body. 71. i.e., truth is the Sastra of the Prasastri. 72. Narayana is taken by Nilakantha to stand here for either the Veda or the Soul. The animals offered up to Narayana in days of old were the senses offered up as sacrifices. 73. Srota here means preceptor or dispeller of doubts. Amaratwam is the status of the immortal head of all. 74. I think Telang is not correct in his rendering of this verse. What is stated here is plain, viz., that it is He who is the preceptor and the disciple. Ayam srinoti,--'prochyamanam grihnati,--tat prichcchatah ato bhuyas anye srinanti' is the grammar of the construction. The conclusion then comes--'gururanyo na vidyate'. 75. One who understands the truth. 76. The seven large trees are the five senses, the mind, and the understanding. The fruits are the pleasures and pains derived from or through them. The guests are the powers of each sense, for it is they that receive those pleasures and pains. The hermitages are those very trees under which the guests take shelter. The seven forms of Yoga are the extinctions of the seven senses. The seven forms of initiation are the repudiation, one after another, of the actions of the seven senses. 77. The correct reading is bhavantyanityah and vahuswabhavan. 78. Swabhava is explained by Nilakantha as sutaram abhava. 79. The sense seems to be this: the life-winds indicate the operations of the several organs of action; the tongue, which stands here for all the organs of perception, of the sensual perceptions; the mind, of all the internal operations; the quality of goodness, of all pleasure; and the quality of passion, of all kinds of pain. These, therefore include the whole external and the internal worlds. He that is free from these, transcends sin, for sin is destroyed by freedom from these, knowledge being the means of attaining to that freedom. 80. 'I have no fault etc.'--The sense seems to be that by doing these rites with the aid of Mantras I have done that which has been approved from ages past by those who have always been regarded wise. My eyes, however, have now been opened by thee. I should not be held responsible for what I did while I was ignorant. 81. Kshatriyas always require Brahmanas for assisting them in their acts. These particular Kshatriyas, through fear of Rama, fled to the forests and mountains. They could not, accordingly, find Brahmanas for assisting them. Their children, therefore, fell away from the status of Kshatriyas and became Vrishalas or Sudras. 82. Kshatriya-bandhu always implies low or inferior Kshatriyas, as Brahma-bandhu implies low or inferior Brahmanas. The expression, very probably, is similar to Brahman-sangat in current Bengali. It does not surely mean 'kinsmen of Kshatriyas'. 83. The vocative, 'O foremost of regenerate ones' applies to Jamadagni's son. The narration is that of the Pitris. All the copies, however, represent this as the Brahmana's speech to his wife. Indeed, the Brahmana is only reciting to his wife the speech of the Pitris to Rama. The Yoga here spoken of is, as Nilakantha explains the Raja-Yoga. Previously, Alarka had been bent upon Hatha-Yoga which frequently ends in the destruction of the person practising it. 84. Praharsha, rendered 'exultation', is explained by Nilakantha as the joy that is felt at the certainty of attaining what is desired. Priti is that satisfaction which is felt when the object desired is attained. Ananda is what arises while enjoying the attained object. 85. The sense seems to be this. Having first conquered the internal foes mentioned, the man of intelligence, bent on effecting his deliverance, should then seek to vanquish all external foes standing in his way. 86. Nilakantha explains that dosha here refers to attachment, cupidity and the rest; while Sadhu implies not men but the virtues of tranquillity and the rest. 87. I think Telang renders this verse wrongly. Samhatadehabandhanah does not mean 'with bodily frame destroyed' but 'with bodily frame united.' If samhata be taken as destroyed, the compound bhinna-vikirna-dehah in the second line would be a useless repetition. The meaning is that with bodily frame or the bonds of body united, he takes birth. When he dies, that frame becomes dismembered and scattered. 88. The conditions referred to are affluence and indigence, as explained by Nilakantha. 89. This is, rather, obscure. Nilakantha observes that the Vedic text referred to is: 'Do not covet anybody's property.' What Janaka says seems to be this: Thinking of this prohibition about coveting other people's property, I thought how could it be ascertained what belongs to others. 90. The sense seems to be this: the property of smell attaches to earth. I do not desire smell for my own enjoyment. If it is perceived, it is perceived by the organ of smell. The earth, therefore, is subject to me, not I to the earth. I have transcended my sensations, and, therefore, the objects to which they inhere. The whole world represents only the objects of the sensations. The latter being mastered, the whole world has been mastered by me. 91. i.e., I live and act for these and not my own self. 92. Nilakantha's reading is erroneous, Brahma-labhasya should be Brahmana-bhasya. So also durvarasya is incorrect. Nemi may also mean the line or track that is made by a wheel as it moves. If taken in this sense, it would mean 'that is confined to, or that cannot deviate from the track constituted by goodness'. The nave, Brahman, is, of course, the Vedas. 93. The sense seems to be this. The sovereignty of the whole Earth or of Heaven, and this knowledge of my identity with the universe--of these two alternatives, I would freely choose the latter. Hence, he says--'This knowledge is my wealth.' 94. These are different modes of life. 95. The sense is this: the knowledge to be acquired is that all is one. Diverse ways there are for acquiring it. Those, again, that have attained to tranquillity have acquired it. 96. Actions are perishable and can lead to no lasting result. It is by the understanding that that knowledge, leading to what is permanent, is to be attained. 97. I expand this verse a little for making it intelligible. A literal version would run as follows: Good means may be seen, perceived as by bees. Action is (cleansed) understanding; through folly it is invested with the symbols of knowledge. Karmabudhhi never means 'action and knowledge' as rendered by Telang. Abudhitwatt means 'through ignorance.' This ignorance is of those persons whose understandings have not been cleansed by action. 98. What is stated here is this. In the matter of achieving Emancipation, no ordinances have been laid down, positive or negative, like those in respect of other things. If one wishes to attain to Heaven, he should do this and abstain from the other. For achieving Emancipation, however, only seeing and hearing are prescribed. Seeing implies contemplation, and hearing, the receiving of instructions from the preceptor. Nilakantha explains hearing as Vedantadisravanam (vide his comment on the word 'srutam' in verse 3 above). 99. The speaker wishes to inculcate that one should first contemplate an object of direct perception, such as earth, etc. Then on such 'unperceived' objects as operations of the mind. Such contemplation will gradually lead to that which is Supreme. The abhyasa or practice referred to in the second line is the practice of sama, dama, etc. I do not think that Telang's version of 8 and 9 brings out the meaning clearly. 100. The sense is that when her individual soul became merged into the Supreme soul, she became identified with Brahman. This, was, of course, due to the knowledge of Kshetra as something separate from Kshetrajna. 101. Their origin is Brahman or Truth. They live, dissociated from their origin, in consequence of their acts. When their acts cease, they return to and become merged in Brahman. 102. i.e., that course of life which has for its object the acquisition of knowledge relating to the soul. This, of course, includes the knowledge that is needed for achieving identification with the Supreme Soul or Brahman. 103. The specific characteristics of the five elements are, as frequently referred before, smell attaching to earth, sound to ether, taste, to water, etc. The deities referred to in the last verse are probably the senses. 104. The total eleven is made up of the three qualities, the five elements, the group of organs and senses as one, egoism and understanding. 105. Anyatha pratipannah is explained by Nilakantha as 'born in other orders'. Telang takes it as 'Behaving in a contrary way.' 'How can goats and sheep behave otherwise?' The sense seems to be that those born as goats, succeed in ascending upwards through the efficacy of the religious acts of the Brahmanas. By becoming sacrificial victims they regain their true position. 106. Qualities abiding in Darkness etc, imply those qualities that are permanently attached to Darkness. 107. Some texts read Santapah and not Sanghatah. The meaning then will be grief or sorrow. 108. This may refer to the exposure of other people's weaknesses by tearing open their veils or covers. 109. Vibhajanti implies enjoyments in this connection. Telang starts a needless objection to this word. 110. 'From even a distance' implies that upon even a cursory view; without even being examined minutely. 111. What is said here is this: the three qualities exist in even the immobile objects of the universe. As regards Darkness, it predominates in them. As regards Passion, it dwells in such properties of theirs as pungency, sourness, sweetness, etc, which change with time or in consequence of cooking or through admixture. Their only properties are said to appertain to Goodness. Tiryagbhavagatam is explained by Nilakantha as adhikyam gatam. Telang thinks this is unwarrantable. His own version, however, of the first line is untenable. What can be the tiryagbhava or 'form of lower species' of immobile objects? Telang frequently forgets that Nilakantha represents a school of interpretation not founded by him but which existed from a time long anterior to him. 112. 'Conjunctions' are evidently the periods joining the seasons, i.e., the close of one season and the beginning of another. 113. This probably implies that the mind, through the aid of the senses, enters into all things or succeeds in knowing them. 114. The sense seems to be that through these one succeeds in taking birth as a Brahmana. 115. A repetition occurs here of about 5 verses. The passage is evidently an interpolation originally caused by carelessness. 116. Nilakantha explains that this implies that one should regard these as really undistinguished from the mind. Indeed, created by the mind itself, these should always be taken as having no real existence beyond the mind. 117. 'That' here refers to the attenuation of all things by absorption into the mind. 118. Gunagunam is treating the qualities as not qualities; i.e., regarding bravery, magnanimity, etc, as really not merits, for these lead to pride. Ekacharyyam is ekantavasam, i.e., life in seclusion, or living without depending upon others. Anantaram is nirastasamastabheda or non-recognition of all distinctions. Some texts read Brahmamatah meaning 'existing among Brahmanas'. Ekapadam sukham is samastasukhagarbham, i.e., the source or fountain of all happiness. 119. The two deities are Jiva and Iswara. 120. The correct reading, in 53 seems to be samsargabhiratam and not samsayabhiratam. 121. In the second line, the correct words are martya and sarva. The sense of the second line seems to be that this body is ceaselessly revolving, for Emancipation is difficult to achieve. Hence this body is, as it were, the wheel of Time. Nilakantha's explanation does not seem to be satisfactory. 122. I do not think that Telang is correct in his version of this verse. What is said here seems to be this. The body is, as it were the wheel of Time; the body is the ocean of delusion; the body is the creator, destroyer and reawakener of the universe. Through the body creatures act, and hence creation, destruction, and re-creation are due to the body. This accords with what is said elsewhere regarding the body. 123. It would be wrong to take satah as implying 'the good,' the finite verses in every text being singular. 124. The correct reading seems to be atmana as the last word of the first line, and not atman. 125. What is said here is that the quality of passion predominates in these. 126. Nyagrodha is the Ficus Bengalensis, Linn. Jamvu is Eugenia Jambolana, Lamk. Pippala is Ficus religiosa, Linn. Salmali is Bombax Malabaricum. Sinsapa is Dalbergia Sissoo, Roxb. Meshasringa is Asclepia geminata, Roxb. Kichaka is a variety of mountain bamboo. Here however it evidently implies the Nimba or Melia Azadirachta, Linn. 127. Nilakantha is for taking the second line as consisting of two propositions. It would be better to take satinam as referring to strinam, and vasumatyah, as an adjective of Apsarasah. 128. The sense seems to be that good men never allow others to know what their acts are. They are strangers to ostentation. 129. The sense seems to be that the knowledge of one's own identity and of things as discriminated from one another is presided over by Prakriti. If the question is asked whence is the knowledge--'I am so,' and that 'this is so,' the answer is that it comes from Prakriti or Nature. 130. As explained by Nilakantha, the word Savitri is used here to imply all forms of worship observed by Brahmanas, etc, and the Mlecchas as well. This turning back to explain a word used before is said to be an instance of "looking back like the lion." 131. Telang, I think, renders this verse wrongly. In the first line it is said that Brahman is superior to the Prajapatis. In the second it is pointed out that Vishnu is superior to Brahman. 132. It is difficult to understand which part of the wheel is intended to be expressedly 'bandhanam' or the bond; I take it for the spokes. Pariskandha is Samuha or the materials that together compose an object. Here it may be taken for the nave or centre. Home is called the circumference, because, as the circumference limits the wheel, even so home (wife and children) limits the affections and acts of life. 133. The words Kalachakram pravartate have been rendered in the first verse of this lesson. In verse 9, the words asaktaprabhavapavyam are explained by Nilakantha differently. Manas-krantam, I take, is equivalent to 'be bounded by the mind,' I do not know whence Telang gets 'never fatigued' as the substitute of this word. 134. Implying that he should go to the house of his preceptor, study and serve there, and after completing his course, return for leading a life of domesticity. 135. The sense seems to be that these last three duties are productive of merit and should, therefore, be performed. The first three however, are sources of living. 136. Havishya is food cooked in a particular way and offered to the deities. It must be free from meat. There may be milk or ghee in it, but the cooking must be done in a single pot or vessel continuously; no change of vessels is allowed. 137. Vilwa is the Aegle marmelos, and Palasa is the Butea frondosa of Roxburgh. 138. At first he should live on fruits and roots and leaves, etc. Next on water, and then on air. There are different sects of forests recluses. The course of life is settled at the time of the initiatory rites. 139. What is stated here is this. The Sannyasin should not ask for alms: or, if he ever seeks for alms, he should seek them in a village or house where the cooking has been already done and where every one has already eaten. This limitation is provided as otherwise the Sannyasin may be fed to his fill by the householder who sees him. 140. He should never plunge into a stream or lake or tank for bathing. 141. Kalakankhi implies, probably 'simply biding time', i.e., allowing time to pass indifferently over him. 142. The sense seems to be this: the self or soul is without qualities. He who knows the self, or rather he who pursues the self with the desire of knowing it, should practise the truths of Piety laid down above. They constitute the path that leads to the self. 143. 'That which has Brahman for its origin' implies the Vedas. 144. Commentators differ about what is implied by the ten or the twelve. Nilakantha thinks that the ten mean the eight characteristics of Yoga, viz., Yama, Niyama, Asana, Pranayama, Pratyahara, Dharana, Dhyana, Samadhi, and Tarka and Vairagya. The twelve would imply the first eight, and these four, viz., Maitri, Karuna, Mudita, and Upeksha. If ten plus twelve or two and twenty be taken, then that number would be made up by the five modes of Yama, the five of Niyama, the remaining six of Yoga (beginning with Asana and ending with Samadhi), the four beginning with Maitri, and the two, viz., Tarka and Vairagya. 145. What is said in this Lesson seems to be this: the Unmanifest or Prakriti is that condition in which all the three qualities of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness exist in a state of combination. The unmanifest is the condition existing before creation. When one particular quality, viz., Goodness prevails over the others, there arises Purusha, viz., that from whom everything flows. The relation of Purusha and Nature is both unity and diversity. The three illustrations of the Gnat and the Udumbara, the fish and water, and water drops and the lotus leaf, explain the relation between Purusha and Nature. He is in Nature, yet different from it. There is both association and dissociation. 146. The doubts appertain to duties, that is whether they should be done or not, and whether they have any effects here and hereafter. 147. The thinking or enjoying agent is subject, and that which is thought or enjoyed is object. Subject and object an two well known words in Sir W. Hamilton's philosophy. I follow Telang in adopting them. 148. Sattawa pradipa, rendered 'light of Nature,' implies, as Nilakantha explains, knowledge, which is a manifestation of Nature. Arjuna Misra's interpretation seems to be better. He says that knowledge,--that is, knowledge of truth,--is acquired by the self through Nature. 149. The sense seems to be this: one who proceeds, on a journey must provide oneself with the necessary means, otherwise one is sure to feel discomfort or meet with even destruction. So, in the journey of life, one must provide oneself with knowledge as the means. One may then avoid all discomfort and danger. Action does not constitute the proper means. It may or may not produce fruits. 150. i.e., one should not care for the external. 151. i.e., one need not do acts enjoined by the scriptures after one has attained to knowledge which is the highest seat. 152. The sense is this: riding on a car may not always be comfortable. As long as there is a car path, one should travel on one's car. If, however, the road be such as not to be fit for a car to proceed along it, one should avoid a car in going over it, for the car instead of conducing to comfort, would, on such a path, be productive of only discomfort. 153. i.e., first action with desire; then action without desire; then knowledge, according to Arjuna Misra. Nilakantha explains that action is first, then Yoga, then the state of Hansa or Paramahansa. 154. Katu is not bitter but pungent or sharp, as that which is attached to chillies. 155. These are the notes of the Hindu Gamut. 156. The understanding operates on what is placed before it by the mind. The understanding, therefore, is, as it were, the lord exercising power or sovereignty, being served by the mind. 157. Sarvan srijati i.e., creates all things by attaining to the condition of the universal cause, for the unmanifest is the universal cause. Between such a one and the Supreme Soul there is no difference. Even this is said in the last sentence. 158. The man who reads the book called Veda is not truly conversant with the Veda. He, however, who knows Kshetrajna, is regarded as truly knowing the Veda. 159. The argument is that Mrityu or death being of two syllables, the correspondence is justifiable between it and Mama or mineness which also is of two syllables. So in the case of Brahman and na-mama. Of course, what is meant by mineness being death and not-mineness being Brahman or emancipation, cannot be unintelligible to one who has carefully read the preceding sections. 160. i.e., the five great elements, four organs of knowledge with mind, and the four organs of action. 161. The word Purusha here is used in the sense of dehabhimani Jiva or individual self with consciousness of body. True knowledge destroys this condition of Jiva, for the man of knowledge identifies himself with the universe and thereby assimilates himself to Brahman. By eaters of Amrita are meant they who never take any food without offering portions thereof to the deities, Pitris, and guests. Of course, Yogins of piety are implied by it. 162. Purusha here implies Jiva divested of consciousness of body. 163. The meaning is this: in a dream what is seen is all unreal. So, when tranquillity has been attained, all the surroundings become unreal. Nilakantha gives a slightly different interpretation; it is this: when tranquillity has been attained, the Soul lives without attachment to the body and all external objects. Indeed, the Soul then lives completely in itself even as it works in course of a dream. 164. The sense is that they behold all worldly objects, present, past and future, which are, of course, due to development of previous causes. 165. This line is rather obscure. The sense seems to be this: no one can know the Supreme Deity if it is not the latter's pleasure to be known. One, therefore, understands Him in exactly that measure in which it is His pleasure to be known. 166. Krishna's father Vasudeva is maternal uncle. Yudhishthira asks Krishna to worship Vasudeva and Valadeva on his behalf, i.e., he charges Krishna to bear to them a message of respect and love from him. 167. The city of Hastinapura is sometimes called Nagapura, both Hasti and Naga being words expressive of the elephant. 'The city called after the elephant' is the usual description of the Kuru capital. 168. Mahyam is equal to 'mam uddisya' i.e., referring to my divine nature. 169. An ascetic loses his penances by cursing another rightly or wrongly. Hence, forgiveness was always practised by the Brahmanas who were ascetics. A Brahmana's strength consisted in forgiveness. The more forgiving he was, the more powerful he became. 170. The first asat or non-existent refers to such objects as the horns of the hare. The second, viz., sadasat, or existent and non-existent refers to such objects as exist and meet with destruction. Sadasat param or that which transcends the existent and non-existent, refers to the unmanifest. The universe consists of these three. All this is from Vasudeva. 171. To this day preceptors in India have to feed and teach their disciples without any pecuniary compensation. In fact, the sale of knowledge has been strictly forbidden. Pupils, however, after completing their studies, had to give the final Dakshina which varied according to their means. The kings and princes of India thought themselves honoured if solicited by pupils in search of the final Dakshina. What Gautama says here is that the object of the final present is to gratify the preceptor. He (Gautama), however, had already been gratified with the dutiful conduct of Utanka. There was no need, therefore, of any present. 172. These words of the king are intended to be reported to his queen who would understand the allusion. The sense is this: cursed by Vasishtha, I have become a cannibal. My condition is intolerable. By this gift of the ear-rings to a deserving Brahmana, much merit may arise. That merit may relieve me. 173. This also is an allusion to the dreadful curse of Vasishtha. The king refers to Madayanti as his only refuge. She may save him by doing an act or special merit, viz., giving away her costly ear-rings to a truly deserving Brahmana. 174. The sense is this: a Brahmana is never loose of tongue. He is truthful. Hence, having passed my word to thee about my return, thou mayst be sure that I would keep my word. One, again, that acts improperly towards a friend, comes to be regarded as a thief. By this, Utanka reminds the king that he should not inflict any wrong on him by carrying out his intention of eating him up. 175. Vilwa is the Aegle marmalos. 176. Chamu here is used in a general sense, viz., a division. Of course it stands for an Akshauhini. 177. Kavi or Kavya is another name of Sukra, the preceptor of the Daityas. 178. Krishna implies Vyasa here. The great Rishi was called 'the island-born Krishna'. 179. The commentator explains that by the constellation Dhruba is implied Rohini and the Uttaras numbering three. Sunday, again is called the Dhruba-day. 180. Agnivesya was another name of Dhaumya. 181. Three roads running north to south, and three running cast to west and intersecting the former, are the six roads that are directed to be laid out in pitching encampments. Those give nine squares with two boundary lines at right angles with each other. 182. Karaputa is made up of two wooden chests united with each other by chains or cords and intended to be borne by camels and bullocks. 183. The first line of 17 is exceedingly terse. Literally rendered, it runs,--'Each vessel was united with another, and became half the (total) weight slung on balance.' 184. Vilava is Arjuna. 185. Before performing any rite or act of a grave nature, Hindus are required to touch water or perform what is called the 'achamana'. A little quantity of water is taken on the palm of the right hand, and with it are touched the lips, the nostrils, the ears, and the eyes. 186. The abode of Vaisravana is called Alaka. Vaisravana is, of course, Kuvera, the lord of treasures, friend of Mahadeva, and chief of the Yakshas. 187. The last line is slightly expanded. 188. The sense is this: thou art the eldest brother of the Pandavas; if thou sacrificest, thy brothers also will come to be regarded as sacrificing with thee. 189. Sphya was a wooden sword or scimitar, used for slaying the sacrificial animal. Kurcha is a handful of Kusa grass. All these things are directed by Vyasa to be made of pure gold. 190. It will be remembered that the Samsaptaka host which had engaged Arjuna for several days on the field of Kurukshetra, all consisted of Trigarta warriors led by their king Susarman, Samsaptaka means 'sworn'. Those soldiers who took the oath that they would either conquer or die, wore called by that name. 191. The reading in every edition seems to be vicious. For obvious reasons, I read Parthadupadravat instead of Parthamupadravat. 192. Bhagadatta was the friend of Indra, the father of Arjuna. 193. The allusion is to Mahadeva's pursuing Sacrifice when the latter fled from him in the form of a deer. 194. The Brahmanas were to receive Arjuna duly and the treasure was intended as a present or offering of respect. 195. Ulupi was one of the wives of Arjuna. She was, therefore, the step-mother of Vabhruvahana. 196. Yahubharyyata, meaning polygamy in the first line, should, as the noun of reference for Eshah be taken as vahunam bharyyata, i.e., polyandry, in the second line. 197. To sit in Praya is to remain seated in a particular spot, abstaining from food and drink with a view to cast off one's life-breaths. 198. The sense is, that 'grief does not kill; one does not die till one's hour comes. If it were otherwise, I would have died, so heavy is the load of my affliction.' 199. The name of the city was Suktimati. 200. The etymology of Gudakesa as the lord of Gudaka or sleep, is fanciful. 201. Sakuni was the maternal uncle of Duryodhana and, therefore, of Arjuna also. Sakuni's son and Arjuna, hence, were cousins. 202. The word chara does not mean always a spy. The ancient kings of India had their spies it is true, but they had a regular intelligence department. It was the business of these men to send correct reports to the king of every important occurrence. The news letter-writers of the Mussalman time, or Harkaras, were the successors of the charas of Hindu times. 203. Hetuvadins are dialecticians or philosophers who dispute on the reasons of things. 204. It is worthy of note that Draupadi was always styled by Krishna as his sakhi or 'friend'. Krishna was highly chivalrous to the other sex at an age when women were universally regarded as the inferiors of men. 205. The sense is this: for a horse-sacrifice, the Dakshina or sacrificial present, payable to the principal Ritwija or to be distributed among all the Ritwijas including the other Brahmanas, is enjoined to be of a certain measure. Vyasa advises Yudhishthira to make that Dakshina triple of what the enjoined measure is. By thus increasing the Dakshina, the merit of the sacrificer will increase correspondingly. 206. The Diksha is the ceremony of initiation. Certain mantras are uttered in which the intention is declared of performing what is desired to be performed. 207. The Karma of a sacrifice or religious rite is the procedure. It is, of course, laid down in the scriptures on the ritual. There are certain acts, however, which, though not laid down, should be done agreeably to reasonable inferences. What is said, therefore, in the second line of 20 is that the procedure was fully followed, both as laid down and as consistent with inferences. 208. Pravargya is a special preliminary rite performed in a sacrifice. 'Abhishva' is the extraction of the juice of the Soma plant after its consecration with Mantras. 209. Vitwa is the Aegle marmelos, Linn. Khadira is Acacia catechu, Linn, or Mimosa catechu; Saravarnin is otherwise called, as explained by Nilakantha, Palasa. It is the Butea frondosa of Roxburgh. Devadaru is Pinus Deodara of Roxburgh, or Cedruz Deodara. Sleshmataka is a small tree identified with the Cordia latifolia. Here probably, some other tree is intended. 210. It is difficult to understand what these constructions or figures were. They were probably figures drawn on the sacrificial altar, with gold-dust. At the present day, powdered rice, coloured red, yellow, blue, etc, is used. 211. Each animal is supposed to be agreeable to a particular deity. 212. Suvibhaktan implies that they were properly classed or grouped so that there was no dispute or dissatisfaction among them regarding questions of precedence. 213. Nilakantha explains that Khandavaraga was made of piper longum and dried ginger (powdered), and the juice of Phaseolus Mungo, with sugar. Probably, it is identical with what is now called Mungka laddu in the bazars of Indian towns. 214. The unccha vow consists of subsisting upon grains of corn picked up after the manner of the pigeon from the field after the crops have been cut and removed by the owners. 215. The day of 12 hours is divided into 8 divisions. 216. A prastha is made up of four Kudavas. A Kudava is equal to about twelve double handfuls. 217. This verse is rather obscure. I am not sure that I have understood it correctly. The sense seems to be this: thou art capable of enduring much. Indeed, by barely living, thou art capable of earning religious merit, for life-breath is a great deity. He should not be cast off. Thy life is at stake, for if this guest be not gratified, the thought of it will kill thee. Do thou, therefore, protect thy life by gratifying this guest with my share of the barley. 218. The sense is this: for the sake of those auspicious results after which every family should strive, the daughter-in-law should be well treated. How then can I deprive thee of food? 219. The Diksha consists of the initiatory rites undergone by one desirous of performing a particular sacrifice or completing a particular vow. Some auspicious day is selected. Mantras are uttered and the purpose is expressed in words. There were many long-extending sacrifices which were partly of the nature of vows. Till their completion the performer or observer is said to undergo the period of Diksha. 220. The first line of 20 is differently read in the Bombay text. It runs,--'steadfastly observing my vow, I shall make arrangements for many sacrifices, creating the articles I want by thought alone (or fiats of my will).' 221. Probably, the sense is this: If a Brahmana produced extraordinary results by his penances, a portion of his penances was supposed to be destroyed. The Rishis did not like that any portion of Agastya's penances should be spent for completing his sacrifice. 222. It is difficult to resist the conviction that as much of this section as relates to the mongoose is an interpolation. The Brahmanas could not bear the idea of a sacrifice with such profusion of gifts, as that of Yudhishthira, being censurable. Hence the invention about the transformation of the mongoose. Truly speaking, the doctrine is noble of the gift of a small quantity of barley made under the circumstances being superior in point of merit to even a Horse-sacrifice performed by a king with gifts in profusion made to the Brahmanas. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 15 ASRAMAVASIKA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned at sacred-texts.com, 2003. Proofed by John Bruno Hare. SECTION I (Asramavasa Parva) OM! AFTER HAVING bowed down to Narayana, and Nara, the foremost of men, and unto the goddess Saraswati also, must the word Jaya be uttered. "Janamejaya said, 'After having acquired their kingdom, how did my grandsires, the high-souled Pandavas, conduct themselves towards the high-souled king Dhritarashtra? How, indeed, did that king who had all his counsellors and sons slain, who was without a refuge, and whose affluence had disappeared, behave? How also did Gandhari of great fame conduct herself? For how many years did my high-souled grandsires rule the kingdom? It behoveth thee to tell me all this.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Having got back their kingdom, the high-souled Pandavas, their foes all slain, ruled the Earth, placing Dhritarashtra at their head. Vidura, and Sanjaya and Yuyutsu of great intelligence, who was Dhritarashtra's son by his Vaisya wife, used to wait upon Dhritarashtra. The Pandavas used to take the opinion of that king in all matters. Indeed, for ten and five years, they did all things under the advice of the old king. Those heroes used very often to go to that monarch and sit beside him, after having worshipped his feet, agreeably to the wishes of king Yudhishthira the just. They did all things under the command of Dhritarashtra who smelt their heads in affection. The daughter of king Kuntibhoja also obeyed Gandhari in everything. Draupadi and Subhadra and the other ladies of the Pandavas behaved towards the old king and the queen as if they were their own father-in-law and mother-in-law. Costly beds and robes and ornaments, and food and drink and other enjoyable articles, in profusion and of such superior kinds as were worthy of royal use, were presented by king Yudhishthira unto Dhritarashtra. Similarly Kunti behaved towards Gandhari as towards a senior. Vidura, and Sanjaya, and Yuyutsu, O thou of Kuru's race, used to always wait upon the old king whose sons had all been slain. The dear brother-in-law of Drona, viz., the very superior Brahmana, Kripa, that mighty bowman, also attended upon the king. The holy Vyasa also used to often meet with the old monarch and recite to him the histories of old Rishis and celestial ascetics and Pitris and Rakshasas. Vidura, under the orders of Dhritarashtra, superintended the discharge of all acts of religious merit and all that related to the administration of the law. Through the excellent policy of Vidura, by the expenditure of even a small wealth, the Pandavas obtained numerous agreeable services from their feudatories and followers. King Dhritarashtra liberated prisoners and pardoned those that were condemned to death. King Yudhishthira the just never said anything to this. On those occasions when the son of Amvika went on pleasure excursions, the Kuru king Yudhishthira of great energy used to give him every article of enjoyment. Aralikas, and juice-makers, and makers of Ragakhandavas waited on king Dhritarashtra as before.[1] Pandu's son, collected costly robes and garlands of diverse kinds and duly offered them to Dhritarashtra. Maireya wines, fish of various kinds, and sherbets and honey, and many delightful kinds of food prepared by modifications (of diverse articles), were caused to be made for the old king as in his days of prosperity. Those kings of Earth who came there one after another, all used to wait upon the old Kuru monarch as before. Kunti, and Draupadi, and she of the Sattwata race, possessed of great fame, and Ulupi, the daughter of the snake chief, and queen Chitrangada, and the sister of Dhrishtaketu, and the daughter of Jarasandha,--these and many other ladies, O chief of men, used to wait upon the daughter of Suvala like maids of all work. That Dhritarashtra, who was deprived of all his children, might not feel unhappy in any matter, was what Yudhishthira often said unto his brothers to see. They also, on their part, listening to these commands of grave import from king Yudhishthira, showed particular obedience to the old king. There was one exception, however. It embraced Bhimasena. All that had followed from that match at dice which had been brought about by the wicked understanding of Dhritarashtra, did not disappear from the heart of that hero. (He remembered those incidents still).'" SECTION II "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus worshipped by the Pandavas, the royal son of Amvika passed his time happily as before, waited upon and honoured by the Rishis. That perpetuator of Kuru's race used to make those foremost of offerings which should be given to the Brahmanas. The royal son of Kunti always placed those articles under Dhritarashtra's control. Destitute of malice as king Yudhishthira was, he was always affectionate towards his uncle. Addressing his brothers and councillors, the king said, "King Dhritarashtra should be honoured both by myself and you all. He indeed, is a well-wisher of mine who is obedient to the commands of Dhritarashtra. He, on the other hand, who behaves otherwise towards him, is my enemy. Such a man should certainly be punished by me." On days of performing the rites ordained for the Pitris, as also in the Sraddhas performed for his sons and all well-wishers, the high-souled Kuru king Dhritarashtra, gave away unto Brahmanas, as each deserved, as profuse measures of wealth as he liked. King Yudhishthira the just, and Bhima, and Arjuna, and the twins, desirous of doing what was agreeable to the old king, used to execute all his orders. They always took care that the old king who was afflicted with the slaughter of his sons and grandsons,--with, that is, grief caused by the Pandavas themselves,--might not die of his grief. Indeed, the Pandavas bore themselves towards him in such a way that that Kuru hero might not be deprived of that happiness and all those articles of enjoyment which had been his while his sons lived. The five brothers, viz., the sons of Pandu, behaved themselves even thus towards Dhritarashtra, living under his command. Dhritarashtra also, seeing them so humble and obedient to his commands and acting towards him as disciples towards preceptors, adopted the affectionate behaviour of a preceptor towards them in return. Gandhari, by performing the diverse rites of the Sraddha and making gifts unto Brahmanas of diverse objects of enjoyment, became freed from the debt she owed to her slain children. Thus did that foremost of righteous men, viz., king Yudhishthira the just, possessed of great intelligence, along with his brothers, worship king Dhritarashtra.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Possessed of great energy, that perpetuator of Kuru's race, viz., the old king Dhritarashtra, could not notice any ill-will in Yudhishthira. Seeing that the high-souled Pandavas were in the observance of a wise and righteous conduct, king Dhritarashtra, the son of Amvika, became gratified with them. Suvala's daughter, Gandhari, casting off all sorrow for her (slain) children, began to show great affection for the Pandavas as if they were her own children. Endued with great energy, the Kuru king Yudhishthira, never did anything that was disagreeable to the royal son of Vichitraviryya. On the other hand, he always behaved towards him in a highly agreeable way. Whatever acts, grave or light, were directed by king Dhritarashtra, or the helpless Gandhari to be done, were all accomplished with reverence, O monarch, by that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., the Pandava king. The old king became highly gratified with such conduct of Yudhishthira. Indeed, he was grieved at the remembrance of his own wicked son. Rising every day at early dawn, he purified himself and went through his recitations, and then blessed the Pandavas by wishing them victory in battle. Making the usual gifts unto the Brahmanas and causing them to utter benedictions, and pouring libations on the sacred fire, the old king prayed for long life to the Pandavas. Indeed, the king had never derived that great happiness from his own sons which he always derived from the sons of Pandu. King Yudhishthira at that time became as agreeable to the Brahmanas as to the Kshatriyas, and the diverse bands of Vaisyas and Sudras of his realm. Whatever wrongs were done to him by the sons of Dhritarashtra, king Yudhishthira, forgot them all, and reverenced his uncle. If any man did anything that was not agreeable to the son of Amvika, he became thereby an object of hatred to the intelligent son of Kunti. Indeed, through fear of Yudhishthira, nobody could talk of the evil deeds of either Duryodhana or Dhritarashtra. Both Gandhari and Vidura also were well pleased with the capacity the king Ajatasatru showed for bearing wrongs. They were, however, not so pleased, O slayer of foes, with Bhima. Dharma's son, Yudhishthira, was truly obedient to his uncle. Bhima, however, at the sight of Dhritarashtra, became very cheerless. That slayer of foes, seeing Dharma's son reverencing the old king, reverenced him outwardly with a very unwilling heart.'" SECTION III "Vaisampayana said, 'The people who lived in the Kuru kingdom failed to notice any variance in the cordiality that subsisted between king Yudhishthira and the father of Duryodhana. When the Kuru king recollected his wicked son, he then could not but feel unfriendly, in his heart, towards Bhima. Bhimasena also, O king, impelled by a heart that seemed to be wicked, was unable to put up with king Dhritarashtra. Vrikodara secretly did many acts that were disagreeable to the old king. Through deceitful servitors he caused the commands of his uncle to be disobeyed. Recollecting the evil counsels of the old king and some acts of his, Bhima, one day, in the midst of his friends, slapped his armpits, in the hearing of Dhritarashtra and of Gandhari. The wrathful Vrikodara, recollecting his foes Duryodhana and Karna and Dussasana, gave way to a transport of passion, and said these harsh words: "The sons of the blind king, capable of fighting with diverse kinds of weapons, have all been despatched by me to the other world with these arms of mine that resemble a pair of iron clubs. Verily, these are those two arms of mine, looking like maces of iron, and invincible by foes, coming within whose clasp the sons of Dhritarashtra have all met with destruction. These are those two well-developed and round arms of mine, resembling a pair of elephantine trunks. Coming within their clasp, the foolish sons of Dhritarashtra have all met with destruction. Smeared with sandal-paste and deserving of that adornment are those two arms of mine by which Duryodhana has been despatched to the other world along with all his sons and kinsmen." Hearing these and many other words, O king, of Vrikodara, that were veritable darts, king Dhritarashtra gave way to cheerlessness and sorrow. Queen Gandhari, however, who was conversant with every duty and possessed of great intelligence, and who knew what Time brings on its course, regarded them as untrue. After five and ten years had passed away, O monarch, king Dhritarashtra afflicted (constantly) by the wordy darts of Bhima, became penetrated with despair and grief. King Yudhishthira the son of Kunti, however, knew it not; nor Arjuna of white steeds, nor Kunti; nor Draupadi possessed of great fame; nor the twin sons of Madri, conversant with every duty and who were always engaged in acting after the wishes of Dhritarashtra. Employed in doing the behests of the king, the twins never said anything that was disagreeable to the old king. Then Dhritarashtra one day honoured his friends by his confidence. Addressing them with tearful eyes, he said these words.' "'Dhritarashtra said, "How the destruction of the Kurus has happened is well known to you. All that was brought about by my fault though the Kauravas approved of all my counsels. Fool that I was, I installed the wicked minded Duryodhana, that enhancer of the terrors of kinsmen, to rule over the Kurus. Vasudeva had said unto me, 'Let this sinful wretch of wicked understanding be killed along with all his friends and counsellors.' I did not listen to those words of grave import. All wise men gave me the same beneficial advice. Vidura, and Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa, said the same thing. The holy and high-souled Vyasa repeatedly said the same, as also Sanjaya and Gandhari. Overwhelmed, however, by filial affection, I could not follow that advice. Bitter repentance is now my lot for my neglect. I also repent for not having bestowed that blazing prosperity, derived from sires and grand sires, on the high-souled Pandavas possessed of every accomplishment. The eldest brother of Gada foresaw the destruction of all the kings; Janarddana, however, regarded that destruction as highly beneficial.[2] So many Anikas of troops, belonging to me, have been destroyed. Alas, my heart is pierced with thousands of darts in consequence of all these results. Of wicked understanding as I am, now after the lapse of five and ten years, I am seeking to expiate my sins. Now at the fourth division of the day or sometimes at the eighth division, with the regularity of a vow, I eat a little food for simply conquering my thirst. Gandhari knows this. All my attendants are under the impression that I eat as usual. Through fear of Yudhishthira alone I concealed my acts, for if the eldest son of Pandu came to know of my vow, he would feel great pain. Clad in deer-skin, I lie down on the Earth, spreading a small quantity of Kusa grass, and pass the time in silent recitations. Gandhari of great fame passes her time in the observance of similar vows. Even thus do we both behave, we that have lost a century of sons none of whom ever retreated from battle. I do not, however, grieve for those children of mine. They have all died in the observance of Kshatriya duties." Having said these words, the old king then addressed Yudhishthira in particular and said, "Blessed be thou, O son of the princess of Yadu's race. Listen now to what I say. Cherished by thee, O son, I have lived these years very happily. I have (with thy help) made large gifts and performed Sraddhas repeatedly.[3] I have, O son, to the best of my power, achieved merit largely. This Gandhari, though destitute of sons, has lived with great fortitude, looking all the while at me. They whom inflicted great wrongs on Draupadi and robbed thee of thy affluence,--those cruel wights--have all left the world, slain in battle agreeably to the practice of their order. "'"I have nothing to do for them, O delighter of the Kurus. Slain with their faces towards battle, they have attained to those regions which are for wielders of weapons.[4] I should now accomplish what is beneficial and meritorious for me as also for Gandhari. It behoveth thee, O great king, to grant me permission. Thou art the foremost of all righteous persons. Thou art always devoted to righteousness. The king is the preceptor of all creatures. It is for this that I say so. With thy permission, O hero, I shall retire into the woods, clad in rags and barks. O king, alone with this Gandhari, I shall live in the woods, always blessing thee. It is meet, O son, for the members of our race, to make over sovereignty, when old age comes, to children and lead the forest mode of life. Subsisting there on air alone, or abstaining from all food, I shall, with this wife of mine, O hero, practise severe austerities. Thou shalt be a sharer of these penances, O son, for thou art the king. Kings are sharers of both auspicious and inauspicious acts done in their kingdom."[5] "'Yudhishthira said, "When thou, O king, art thus subject to grief, sovereignty does not please me at all. Fie on me that am of wicked understanding, devoted to the pleasures of rule, and utterly heedless of my true concerns. Alas, I, with all my brothers, was ignorant of thyself having so long been afflicted with grief, emaciated with fasts, abstaining from food, and lying on the bare ground. Alas, foolish that I am, I have been deceived by thee that hast deep intelligence, inasmuch as, having inspired me with confidence at first thou hast latterly undergone such grief. What need have I of kingdom or of articles of enjoyment, what need of sacrifices or of happiness, when thou, O king, hast undergone so much affliction? I regard my kingdom as a disease, and myself also as afflicted. Plunged though I am in sorrow, what, however, is the use of these words that I am addressing thee? Thou art our father, thou art our mother; thou art our foremost of superiors. Deprived of thy presence, how shall we live? O best of king, let Yuyutsu, the son of thy loins, be made king, or, indeed, anybody else whom thou mayst wish. I shall go into the woods. Do thou rule the kingdom. It behoveth thee not to burn me that am already burned by infamy. I am not the king. Thou art the king. I am dependent on thy will. How can I dare grant permission to thee that art my preceptor? O sinless one, I harbour no resentment in my heart on account of the wrongs done to us by Suyodhana. It was ordained that it should be so. Both ourselves and others were stupefied (by fate). We are thy children as Duryodhana and others were. My conviction is that Gandhari is as much my mother as Kunti. If thou, O king of kings, goest to the woods leaving me, I shall then follow thee. I swear by my soul. This Earth, with her belt of seas, so full of wealth, will not be a source of joy to me when I am deprived of thy presence. All this belongs to thee. I gratify thee, bending my head. We are all dependent on thee, O king of kings. Let the fever of thy heart be dispelled. I think, O lord of Earth, that all this that has come upon thee is due to destiny. By good luck, I had thought, that waiting upon thee and executing thy commands obediently, I would rescue thee from the fever of thy heart." "'Dhritarashtra said, "O delighter of the Kurus, my mind is fixed, O son, on penances. O puissant one, it is meet for our race that I should retire into the woods. I have lived long under thy protection, O son, I have for many years been served by thee with reverence. I am now old. It behoveth thee, O king, to grant me permission (to take up my abode in the woods)."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said these words unto king Yudhishthira, the just, king Dhritarashtra, the son of Amvika, trembling the while and with hands joined together, further said unto the high-souled Sanjaya and the great car-warrior Kripa, these words, "I wish to solicit the king through you. My mind has become cheerless, my mouth has become dry, through the weakness of age and the exertion of speaking." Having said so, that perpetuator of Kuru's race, viz., the righteous-souled old king, blessed with prosperity, leaned on Gandhari and suddenly looked like one deprived of life. Beholding him thus seated like one deprived of consciousness, that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., the royal son of Kunti, became penetrated by a poignant grief. "'Yudhishthira said, "Alas, he whose strength was equal to that of a hundred thousand elephants, alas, that king sitteth today, leaning on a woman. Alas! he by whom the iron image of Bhima on a former occasion was reduced to fragments, leaneth today on a weak woman. Fie on me that am exceedingly unrighteous! Fie on my understanding! Fie on my knowledge of the scripture! Fie on me for whom this lord of Earth lieth today in a manner that is not becoming of him! I also shall fast even as my preceptor. Verily, I shall fast if this king and Gandhari of great fame abstain from food."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The Pandava king, conversant with every duty, using his own hand, then softly rubbed with cold water the breast and the face of the old monarch. At the touch of the king's hand which was auspicious and fragrant, and on which were jewels and medicinal herbs, Dhritarashtra regained his senses.[6] "'Dhritarashtra said, "Do thou again touch me, O son of Pandu, with thy hand, and do thou embrace me. O thou of eyes like lotus petals, I am restored to my senses through the auspicious touch of thy hand. O ruler of men, I desire to smell thy head. The clasp of thy arms is highly gratifying to me. This is the eighth division of the day and, therefore, the hour of taking my food. For not having taken my food, O child of Kuru's race, I am so weak as to be unable to move. In addressing my solicitations to thee, great has been my exertion. Rendered cheerless by it, O son, I had fainted. O perpetuator of Kuru's race, I think that receiving the touch of thy hand, which resembles nectar in its vivifying effects I have been restored to my senses."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed, O Bharata, by the eldest brother of his father, the son of Kunti, from affection, gently touched every part of his body. Regaining his life-breaths, king Dhritarashtra embraced the son of Pandu with his arms and smelled his head. Vidura and others wept aloud in great grief. In consequence, however, of the poignancy of their sorrow, they said nothing to either the old king or the son of Pandu. Gandhari, conversant with every duty, bore her sorrow with fortitude, and loaded as her heart was, O king, said nothing. The other ladies, Kunti among them, became greatly afflicted. They wept, shedding copious tears, and sat surrounding the old king. Then Dhritarashtra, once more addressing Yudhishthira, said these words, "Do thou, O king, grant me permission to practise penances. By speaking repeatedly, O son, my mind becomes weakened. It behoveth thee not, O son, to afflict me after this." When that foremost one of Kuru's race was saying so unto Yudhishthira, a loud sound of wailing arose from all the warriors there present. Beholding his royal father of great splendour, emaciated and pale, reduced to a state unbecoming of him, worn out with fasts, and looking like a skeleton covered with skin, Dharma's son Yudhishthira shed tears of grief and once more said these words, "O foremost of men, I do not desire life and the Earth. O scorcher of foes, I shall employ myself in doing what is agreeable to thee. If I deserve thy favour, if I am dear to thee, do thou eat something. I shall then know what to do." Endued with great energy, Dhritarashtra then said to Yudhishthira,--"I wish, O son, to take some food, with thy permission." When Dhritarashtra said these words to Yudhishthira, Satyavati's son Vyasa came there and said as follows.'" SECTION IV "'Vyasa said, "O mighty-armed Yudhishthira, do without any scruple what Dhritarashtra of Kuru's race has said. This king is old. He has, again, been made sonless. I think he will not be able to bear his grief long. The highly blessed Gandhari, possessed of great wisdom and endued with kindly speech, bears with fortitude her excessive grief owing to the loss of her sons. I also tell thee (what the old king says). Do thou obey my words. Let the old king have thy permission. Let him not die an inglorious death at home. Let this king follow the path of all royal sages of old. Verily, for all royal sages, retirement into the woods comes at last."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed at that time by Vyasa of wonderful deeds, king Yudhishthira the just, possessed of mighty energy, said unto the great ascetic these words, "Thy holy self is held by us in great reverence. Thou alone art our preceptor. Thou alone art the refuge of this our kingdom as also of our race. I am thy son. Thou, O holy one, art my father. Thou art our king, and thou art our preceptor. The son should, agreeably to every duty, be obedient to the commands of his sire."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by the king, Vyasa, that foremost of poets, foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas, endued with great energy once more said unto Yudhishthira these words, "It is even so, O mighty-armed one. It is even as thou sayest, O Bharata. This king has reached old age. He is now in the last stage of life. Permitted both by me and thee, let this lord of Earth do what he proposes. Do not stand as an impediment in his way. Even this is the highest duty, O Yudhishthira, of royal sages. They should die either in battle or in the woods agreeably to the scriptures. Thy royal sire, Pandu, O king of kings, reverenced this old king as a disciple reverences his preceptor. (At that time) he adored the gods in many great sacrifices with profuse gifts consisting of hills of wealth and jewels, and ruled the Earth and protected his subjects wisely and well. Having obtained a large progeny and a swelling kingdom, he enjoyed great influence for thirteen years while you were in exile, and gave away much wealth. Thyself also, O chief of men, with thy servants, O sinless one, hast adored this king and the famous Gandhari with that ready obedience which a disciple pays to his preceptor. Do thou grant permission to thy father. The time has come for him to attend to the practice of penances. He does not harbour, O Yudhishthira, even the slightest anger against any of you."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said these words, Vyasa soothed the old king. Yudhishthira then answered him, saying, "So be it." The great ascetic then left the palace for proceeding to the woods. After the holy Vyasa had gone away, the royal son of Pandu softly said these words unto his old father, bending himself in humility,--"What the holy Vyasa has said, what is thy own purpose, what the great bowman Kripa has said, what Vidura has expressed, and what has been asked for by Yuyutsu and Sanjaya, I shall accomplish with speed. All these are worthy of my respect, for all of them are well-wishers of our race. This, however, O king, I beg of thee by bending my head. Do thou first eat and afterwards go to thy forest retreat."'" SECTION V "Vaisampayana said, 'Having received the king's permission, king Dhritarashtra of great energy then proceeded to his own palace, followed by Gandhari. With weakened strength and slow motion, that king of great intelligence walked with difficulty, like the leader, worn out with age, of an elephantine herd. He was followed by Vidura of great learning, and his charioteer Sanjaya, as also that mighty bowman Kripa, the son of Saradwata. Entering his mansion, O king, he went through the morning rites and after gratifying many foremost of Brahmanas he took some food. Gandhari conversant with every duty, as also Kunti of great intelligence, worshipped with offers of various articles by their daughters-in-law, then took some food, O Bharata. After Dhritarashtra had eaten, and Vidura also and others had done the same, the Pandavas, having finished their meals, approached and sat around the old king. Then the son of Amvika, O monarch, addressing Kunti's son who was seated near him and touching his back with his hand, said, "Thou shouldst always, O delighter of the Kurus, act without heedlessness as regards everything connected with thy kingdom consisting of eight limbs, O foremost of rulers, and in which the claims of righteousness should ever be kept foremost.[7] Thou art possessed, O son of Kunti, of intelligence and learning. Listen to me, O king, as I tell thee what the means are by which, O son of Pandu, the kingdom is capable of being righteously protected. Thou shouldst always, O Yudhishthira, honour those persons that are old in learning. Thou shouldst listen to what they would say, and act accordingly without any scruple. Rising at dawn, O king, worship them with due rites, and when the time comes for action, thou shouldst consult them about thy (intended) acts. When, led by the desire of knowing what would be beneficial to thee in respect of thy measures, thou honourest them, they will, O son, always declare what is for thy good, O Bharata. Thou shouldst always keep thy senses, as thou keepest thy horses. They will then prove beneficial to thee, like wealth that is not wasted. Thou shouldst employ only such ministers as have passed the tests of honesty, (i.e., as are possessed of loyalty, disinterestedness, continence, and courage), as are hereditary officers of state, possessed of pure conduct, self-restrained, clever in the discharge of business, and endued with righteous conduct. Thou shouldst always collect information through spies in diverse disguises, whose faithfulness have been tested, who are natives of thy kingdom, and who should not be known to thy foes. Thy citadel should be properly protected with strong walls and arched gates. On every side the walls, with watch-towers on them standing close to one another, should be such as to admit of six persons walking side by side on their top.[8] The gates should all be large and sufficiently strong. Kept in proper places those gates should be carefully guarded. Let thy purposes be accomplished through men whose families and conduct are well known. Thou shouldst always protect thy person also with care, in matters connected with thy food, O Bharata, as also in the hours of sport and eating and in matters connected with the garlands thou wearest and the beds thou liest upon. The ladies of thy household should be properly protected, looked over by aged and trusted servitors, of good behaviour, well-born, and possessed of learning, O Yudhishthira. Thou shouldst make ministers of Brahmanas possessed of learning, endued with humility, well-born, conversant with religion and wealth, and adorned with simplicity of behaviour. Thou shouldst hold consultations with them. Thou shouldst not, however, admit many persons into thy consultations. On particular occasions thou mayst consult with the whole of thy council or with a portion of it. Entering a chamber or spot that is well protected (from intruders) thou shouldst hold thy consultation. Thou mayst hold thy consultation in a forest that is divested of grass. Thou shouldst never consult at night time.[9] Apes and birds and other animals that can imitate human beings should all be excluded from the council chamber, as also idiots and lame and palsied individuals. I think that the evils that flow from the divulgence of the counsels of kings are such that they cannot be remedied. Thou shouldst repeatedly refer, in the midst of thy counsellors, to the evils that arise from the divulgence of counsels, O chastiser of foes, and to the merits that flow from counsels properly kept. Thou shouldst, O Yudhishthira, act in such a manner as to ascertain the merits and faults of the inhabitants of thy city and the provinces. Let thy laws, O king, be always administered by trusted judges placed in charge thereof, who should also be contented and of good behaviour. Their acts should also be ascertained by thee through spies. Let thy judicial officers, O Yudhishthira, inflict punishments, according to the law, on offenders after careful ascertainment of the gravity of the offences. They that are disposed to take bribes, they that are the violators of the chastity of other people's wives, they that inflict heavy punishments, they that are utterers of false speeches, they that are revilers, they that are stained by cupidity, they that are murderers, they that are doers of rash deeds, they that are disturbers of assemblies and the sports of others, and they that bring about a confusion of castes, should, agreeably to considerations of time and place, be punished with either fines or death.[10] In the morning thou shouldst see those that are employed in making thy disbursements. After that thou shouldst look to thy toilet and then to thy food. Thou shouldst next supervise thy forces, gladdening them on every occasion. Thy evenings should be set apart for envoys and spies. The latter end of the night should be devoted by thee to settle what acts should be done by thee in the day. Mid-nights and mid-days should be devoted to thy amusements and sports. At all times, however thou shouldst think of the means for accomplishing thy purposes. At the proper time, adorning thy person, thou shouldst sit prepared to make gifts in profusion. The turns for different acts, O son, ceaselessly revolve like wheels. Thou shouldst always exert thyself to fill thy treasuries of various kinds by lawful means. Thou shouldst avoid all unlawful means towards that end. Ascertaining through thy spies who thy foes are that are bent on finding out thy laches, thou shouldst, through trusted agents, cause them to be destroyed from a distance. Examining their conduct, thou shouldst O perpetuator of Kuru's race, appoint thy servants. Thou shouldst cause all thy acts to be accomplished through thy servitors: whether they are appointed for those acts or not. The commandant of thy forces should be of firm conduct, courageous, capable of bearing hardships, loyal, and devoted to thy good. Artisans and mechanics, O son of Pandu, dwelling in thy provinces, should always do thy acts like kine and asses.[11] Thou shouldst always, O Yudhishthira, be careful to ascertain thy own laches as also those of thy foes. The laches also of thy own men as also of the men of thy foes should equally be ascertained. Those men of thy kingdom, that are well skilled in their respective vocations, and are devoted to thy good, should be favoured by thee with adequate means of support. A wise king, O ruler of men, should always see that the accomplishments of his accomplished subjects might be kept up. They would then be firmly devoted to thee, seeing that they did not fall away from their skill."'" SECTION VI "'Dhritarashtra said, "Thou shouldst always ascertain the Mandalas that belong to thee, to thy foes, to neutrals, and to those that are disposed equally towards thee and thy foes, O Bharata.[12] The Mandalas also of the four kinds of foes, of these called Atatayins, and of allies, and the allies of foes, should be distinguished by thee, O crusher of foes.[13] The ministers of state, the people of the provinces, the garrisons of forts, and the forces, O foremost one of Kuru's race, may or may not be tampered with. (Thou shouldst, therefore, behave in such a manner that these may not be tampered with by thy foes). The twelve (enumerated above), O son of Kunti, constitute the principal concerns of kings. These twelve, as also sixty, having Ministers for their foremost, should be looked after by the king.[14] Professors conversant with the science of politics call these by the name of Mandala. Understand, O Yudhishthira, that the six incidents (of peace, war, march, halt, sowing dissensions, and conciliation) depend upon these. Growth and diminution should also be understood, as also the condition of being stationary. The attributes of the sixfold incidents, O thou of mighty arms, as resting on the two and seventy (already enumerated), should also be carefully understood. When one's own side has become strong and the side of the foe has become weak, it is then, O son of Kunti, that the king should war against the foe and strive to win victory. When the enemy is strong and one's own side is weak, then the weak king, if possessed of intelligence, should seek to make peace with the enemy. The king should collect a large store of articles (for his commissariat). When able to march out, he should on no account make a delay, O Bharata. Besides, he should on that occasion set his men to offices for which they are fit, without being moved by any other consideration. (When obliged to yield a portion of his territories) he should give his foe only such land as does not produce crops in abundance. (When obliged to give wealth), he should give gold containing much base metal. (When obliged to give a portion of his forces), he should give such men as are not noted for strength. One that is skilled in treaties should, when taking land or gold or men from the foe, take what is possessed of attributes the reverse of this.[15] In making treaties of peace, the son of the (defeated) king, should be demanded as a hostage, O chief of the Bharatas. A contrary course of conduct would not be beneficial, O son. If a calamity comes over the king, he should, with knowledge of means and counsels, strive to emancipate himself from it.[16] The king, O foremost of monarchs, should maintain the cheerless and the destitute (such as the blind, the deaf and dumb, and the diseased) among his people. Himself protecting his own kingdom, the king, possessed of great might, should direct all his efforts, either one after another or simultaneously, against his foes. He should afflict and obstruct them and seek to drain their treasury. The king that desires his own growth should never injure the subordinate chieftains that are under his sway. O son of Kunti, thou shouldst never seek to war with that king who desires to conquer the whole Earth. Thou shouldst seek to gain advantages by producing, with the aid of thy ministers, dissensions among his aristocracy and subordinate chieftains. A powerful king should never seek to exterminate weak kings, for these do good to the world by cherishing the good and punishing the wicked. O foremost of kings, thou shouldst live, adopting the behaviour of the cane.[17] If a strong king advances against a weak one, the latter should make him desist, by adopting conciliation and other modes. If unable to stop the invader in this way, then he, as also those that are disposed to do him good, should fall upon the foe for battling with him. Indeed, with his ministers and treasury and citizens, he should thus adopt force against the invader. If battling with the foe becomes hopeless, then he should fall, sacrificing his resources one after another. Casting off his life in this way, he will attain to liberation from all sorrow."'" SECTION VII "'Dhritarashtra said, "O best of kings, thou shouldst also reflect properly on war and peace. Each is of two kinds. The means are various, and the circumstances also, under which war or peace may be made, are various, O Yudhishthira.[18] O thou of Kuru's race, thou shouldst, with coolness, reflect on the two (viz., thy strength and weakness) with regard to thyself. Thou shouldst not suddenly march against a foe that is possessed of contented and healthy soldiers, and that is endued with intelligence. On the other hand, thou shouldst think carefully of the means of vanquishing him.[19] Thou shouldst march against a foe that is not provided with contented and healthy combatants. When everything is favourable, the foe may be beaten. After that, however, the victor should retire (and stay in a strong position). He should next cause the foe to be plunged into various calamities, and sow dissensions among his allies. He should afflict the foe and inspire terror in his heart, and attacking him weaken his forces. The king, conversant with the scriptures that marches against a foe, should think of the three kinds of strength, and, indeed, reflect on his own strength and of his foe.[20] Only that king, O Bharata, who is endued with alacrity, discipline, and strength of counsels, should march against a foe. When his position is otherwise, he should avoid defensive operations.[21] The king should provide himself with power of wealth, power of allies, power of foresters, power of paid soldiery, and power of the mechanical and trading classes, O puissant one.[22] Among all these, power of allies and power of wealth are superior to the rest. The power of classes and that of the standing army are equal. The power of spies is regarded by the king as equal in efficacy to either of the above, on many occasions, when the time comes for applying each. Calamity, O king, as it overtakes rulers should be regarded as of many forms. Listen, O thou of Kuru's race, as to what those diverge forms are. Verily of various kinds are calamities, O son of Pandu. Thou shouldst always count them, distinguishing their forms, O king, and strive to meet them by applying the well-known ways of conciliation and the rest (without concealing them through idleness). The king should, when equipt with a good force, march (out against a foe), O scorcher of enemies. He should attend also to the considerations of time and place, while preparing to march, as also to the forces he has collected and his own merits (in other respects). That king who is attentive to his own growth and advancement should not march unless equipt with cheerful and healthy warriors. When strong, O son of Pandu, he may march in even an unfavourable season. The king should make a river having quivers for its stones, steeds and cars for its current, and standards for the trees that cover its banks, and which is miry with foot-soldiers and elephants. Even such a river should the king apply for the destruction of his foe. Agreeably to the science known to Usanas, arrays called Sakata, Padma, and Vijra, should be formed, O Bharata, for fighting the enemy.[23] Knowing everything about the enemy's strength through spies, and examining his own strength himself the king should commence war either within his own territories or within those of his foe.[24] The king should always gratify his army, and hurl all his strongest warriors (against the enemy). First ascertaining the state of his kingdom, he should apply conciliation or the other well-known means. By all means, O king, should the body be protected. One should do that which is highly beneficial for one both here and hereafter. The king, O monarch, by behaving duly according to these ways, attains to Heaven hereafter, after ruling his subjects righteously in this world. O foremost one of Kuru's race, it is even thus that thou shouldst always seek the good of thy subjects for attaining to both the worlds.[25] Thou hast been instructed in all duties by Bhishma, by Krishna, and by Vidura, I should also, O best of kings, from the affection I bear thee, give thee these instructions. O giver of profuse presents in sacrifices, thou shouldst do all this duly. Thou shalt, by conducting thyself in this way, become dear to thy subjects and attain to felicity in Heaven. That king who adores the deities in a hundred horse-sacrifices, and he who rules his subjects righteously, acquire merit that is equal."'" SECTION VIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O lord of Earth, I shall do as thou biddest me. O foremost of kings, I should be further instructed by thee. Bhishma has ascended to Heaven. The slayer of Madhu has departed (for Dwaraka). Vidura and Sanjaya also will accompany thee to the forest. Who else, therefore, than thee will teach me? Those instructions which thou imparted today, desirous of doing good to me, I shall certainly follow, O lord of Earth. Be thou assured of this, O king."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by king Yudhishthira the just, of great intelligence, the royal sage, Dhritarashtra, O chief of the Bharatas, wished to obtain the king's permission (about his retirement to the forest). And he said, "Cease, O son, great has been my toil." Having said these words, the old king entered the apartments of Gandhari. Unto that husband of hers who resembled a second Lord of all creatures, while resting on a seat, Gandhari of righteous conduct, conversant with the opportuneness of everything, said these words, the hour being suited to them,--"Thou hast obtained the permission of that great Rishi, viz., Vyasa himself. When, however, wilt thou go to the forest, with the permission of Yudhishthira?" "'Dhritarashtra said, "O Gandhari, I have received the permission of my high-souled sire. With the permission of Yudhishthira (next obtained), I shall soon retire into the woods. I desire, however, to give away some wealth capable of following the status of Preta, in respect of all those sons of mine who were addicted to calamitous dice. Verily, I desire to make those gifts, inviting all the people to my mansion."'[26] "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said so (to Gandhari), Dhritarashtra sent for Yudhishthira. The latter, at his uncle's command, brought all the articles necessary. Many Brahmanas residing in Kuru-jangala, and many Kshatriyas, many Vaisyas, and many Sudras also, came to Dhritarashtra's mansion, with gratified hearts. The old king, coming out of the inner apartments, beheld them all, as also his subjects assembled together. Beholding all those assembled citizens and inhabitants of the provinces, and his well-wishers also thus gathered together, and the large number of Brahmanas arrived from diverge realms, king Dhritarashtra of great intelligence, O monarch, said these words,--"Ye all and the Kurus have lived together for many long years, well-wishers of each other, and each employed in doing good to the other. What I shall now say in view of the opportunity that has come, should be accomplished by you all even as disciples accomplish the biddings of their preceptors. I have set my heart upon retiring into the woods, along with Gandhari as my companion. Vyasa has approved of this, as also the son of Kunti. Let me have your permission too. Do not hesitate in this. That goodwill, which has always existed between you and us, is not to be seen, I believe, in other realms between the rulers and the ruled. I am worn out with this load of years on my head. I am destitute of children. Ye sinless ones, I am emaciated with fasts, along with Gandhari. The kingdom having passed to Yudhishthira, I have enjoyed great happiness. Ye foremost of men, I think that happiness has been greater than what I could expect from Duryodhana's sovereignty. What other refuge can I have, old as I am and destitute of children, save the woods? Ye highly blessed ones, it behoves you to grant me the permission I seek." Hearing these words of his, all these residents of Kurujangala, uttered loud lamentations, O best of the Bharatas, with voices choked with tears. Desirous of telling those grief-stricken people something more, Dhritarashtra of great energy, once more addressed them and said as follows.'" SECTION IX "'Dhritarashtra said, "Santanu duly ruled this Earth. Similarly, Vichitraviryya also, protected by Bhishma, ruled you. Without doubt, all this is known to you. It is also known to you how Pandu, my brother, was dear to me as also to you. He also ruled you duly. Ye sinless ones, I have also served you. Whether those services have come up to the mark or fallen short of it, it behoveth you to forgive me, for I have attended to my duties without heedlessness. Duryodhana also enjoyed this kingdom without a thorn in his side. Foolish as he was and endued with wicked understanding, he did not, however, do any wrong to you. Through the fault, however, of that prince of wicked understanding, and through his pride, as also through my own impolicy, a great carnage has taken place of persons of the royal order. Whether I have, in that matter, acted rightly or wrongly, I pray you with joined hands to dispel all remembrance of it from your hearts.--This one is old; this one has lost all his children; this one is afflicted with grief; this one was our king;--this one is a descendant of former kings;--considerations like these should induce you to forgive me. This Gandhari also is cheerless and old. She too has lost her children and is helpless. Afflicted with grief for the loss of her sons, she solicits you with me. Knowing that both of us are old and afflicted and destitute of children, grant us the permission we seek. Blessed be you, we seek your protection. This Kuru king, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, should be looked after by you all, in prosperity as well as in adversity. He will never fall into distress, he that has for his counsellors four such brothers of abundant prowess. All of them are conversant with both righteousness and wealth, and resemble the very guardians of the world. Like the illustrious Brahman himself, the Lord of the universe of creatures, this Yudhishthira of mighty energy will rule you. That which should certainly be said is now said by me. I make over to you it this Yudhishthira here as a deposit. I make you also a deposit in the hands of this hero. It behoves you all to forget and forgive whatever injury has been done to you by those sons of mine that are no longer alive, or, indeed, by any one else belonging to me. Ye never harboured any wrath against me on any previous occasion. I join my hands before you who are distinguished for loyalty. Here, I bow to you all. Ye sinless ones, I, with Gandhari by my side, solicit your pardon now for anything done to you by those sons of mine, of restless understandings, stained by cupidity, and ever acting as their desires prompted." Thus addressed by the old monarch, all those citizens and inhabitants of the provinces, filled with tears, said nothing but only looked at one another.'" SECTION X "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed, O thou of Kuru's race, by the old king, the citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces stood sometime like men deprived of consciousness. King Dhritarashtra, finding them silent, with their throats choked by grief, once more addressed them, saying, "Ye best of men, old as I am, sonless, and indulging, through cheerlessness of heart, in diverse lamentations along with this my wedded wife, I have obtained the permission, in the matter of my retirement into the forest, of my sire, the Island-born Krishna himself, as also of king Yudhishthira, who is conversant with every duty, ye righteous denizens of this kingdom. Ye sinless ones, I, with Gandhari, repeatedly solicit you with bent heads. It behoves you all to grant us permission." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these pitiable words of the Kuru king, O monarch, the assembled denizens of Kurujangala all began to weep. Covering their faces with their hands and upper garments, all those men burning with grief, wept for a while as fathers and mothers would weep (at the prospect of a dear son about to leave them for ever). Bearing in their hearts, from which every other thought had been dispelled, the sorrow born of Dhritarashtra's desire to leave the world, they looked like men deprived of all consciousness. Checking that agitation of heart due to the announcement of Dhritarashtra's desire of going to the forest, they gradually were able to address one another, expressing their wishes. Settling their words in brief, O king, they charged a certain Brahmana with the task of replying unto the old monarch. That learned Brahmana, of good behaviour, chosen by unanimous consent, conversant with all topics, master of all the Richs, and named Samba, endeavoured to speak. Taking the permission of the whole assembly and with its full approbation, that learned Brahmana of great intelligence, conscious of his own abilities, said these words unto the king,--"O monarch, the answer of this assembly has been committed to my care. I shall voice it, O hero. Do thou receive it, O king. What thou sayest, O king of kings, is all true, O puissant one. There is nothing in it that is even slightly untrue. Thou art our well-wisher, as, indeed, we are thine. Verily, in this race of kings, there never was a king who coming to rule his subjects became unpopular with them. Ye have ruled us like fathers or brothers. King Duryodhana never did us any wrong. Do that, O king, which that righteous-souled ascetic, the son of Satyavati, has said. He is, verily, our foremost of instructors. Left by thee, O monarch, we shall have to pass our days in grief and sorrow, filled with remembrance of thy hundreds of virtues. We were well protected and ruled by king Duryodhana even as we had been ruled by king Santanu, or by Chitrangada, or by thy father, O monarch, who was protected by the prowess of Bhishma, or by Pandu, that ruler of Earth, who was overlooked by thee in all his acts. Thy son, O monarch, never did us the slightest wrong. We lived, relying on that king as trustfully as on our own father. It is known to thee how we lived (under that ruler). After the same manner, we have enjoyed great happiness, O monarch, for thousands of years, under the rule of Kunti's son of great intelligence and wisdom[27]. This righteous-souled king who performs sacrifices with gifts in profusion, follows the conduct of the royal sages of old, belonging to thy race, of meritorious deeds, having Kuru and Samvara and others and Bharata of great intelligence among them. There is nothing, O monarch, that is even slightly censurable in the matter of this Yudhishthira's rule. Protected and ruled by thee, we have all lived in great happiness. The slightest demerit is incapable of being alleged against thee and thy son. Regarding what thou hast said about Duryodhana in the matter of this carnage of kinsmen, I beg thee, O delighter of the Kurus (to listen to me)." "'The Brahmana continued, "The destruction that has overtaken the Kurus was not brought about by Duryodhana. It was not brought about by thee. Nor was it brought about by Karna and Suvala's son. We know that it was brought about by destiny, and that it was incapable of being counteracted. Verily, destiny is not capable of being resisted by human exertion. Eight and ten Akshauhinis of troops, O monarch, were brought together. In eight and ten days that host was destroyed by the foremost of Kuru warriors, viz., Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and others, and the high-souled Karna, and the heroic Yuyudhana, and Dhrishtadyumna, and by the four sons of Pandu, that is, Bhima and Arjuna and twins. This (tremendous) carnage, O king, could not happen without the influence of destiny. Without doubt, by Kshatriyas in particular, should foes be slain and death encountered in battle. By those foremost of men, endued with science and might of arms, the Earth has been exterminated with her steeds and cars and elephants. Thy son was not the cause of that carnage of high-souled kings. Thou wert not the cause, nor thy servants, nor Karna, nor Suvala's son. The destruction of those foremost ones of Kuru's race and of kings by thousands, know, was brought about by destiny. Who can say anything else in this? Thou art regarded as the Guru and the master of the whole world. We, therefore, in thy presence, absolve thy righteous-souled son. Let that king, with all his associates, obtain the regions reserved for heroes. Permitted by foremost of Brahmanas, let him sport blissfully in heaven. Thou also shalt attain to great merit, and unswerving steadiness in virtue. O thou of excellent vows, follow thou fully the duties indicated in the Vedas. It is not necessary for either thee or ourselves to look after the Pandavas. They are capable of ruling the very Heavens, what need then be said of the Earth? O thou of great intelligence, in prosperity as in adversity, the subjects of this kingdom, O foremost one of Kuru's race, will be obedient to the Pandavas who have conduct for their ornament. The son of Pandu makes those valuable gifts which are always to be made to foremost of regenerate persons in sacrifices and in obsequial rites, after the manner of all the great kings of antiquity. The high-minded son of Kunti is mild, and self-restrained, and is always disposed to spend as if he were a second Vaisravana. He has great ministers that attend on him. He is compassionate to even his foes. Indeed, that foremost one of Bharata's race is of pure conduct. Endued with great intelligence, he is perfectly straight-forward in his dealings and rules and protects us like a father protecting his children. From association with him who is the son of Dharma, O royal sage, Bhima and Arjuna and others will never do us the least wrong. They are mild, O thou of Kuru's race, unto them that are mild, and fierce like snakes of virulent poison unto them that are fierce. Possessed of great energy, those high-souled ones are always devoted to the good of the people. Neither Kunti, nor thy (daughter-in-law) Panchali, nor Ulupi, nor the princess of the Sattwata race, will do the least wrong to these people.[28] The affection which thou hast shown towards us and which in Yudhishthira is seen to exist in a still larger measure is incapable of being forgotten by the people of the city and the provinces. Those mighty car-warriors, viz., the sons of Kunti, themselves devoted to the duties of the righteousness, will protect and cherish the people even if these happen to be unrighteous. Do thou, therefore, O king, dispelling all anxiety of heart on account of Yudhishthira, set thyself to the accomplishment of all meritorious acts, O foremost of men."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words, fraught with righteousness and merit, of that Brahmana and approving of them, every person in that assembly said, "Excellent, Excellent" and accepted them as his own. Dhritarashtra also, repeatedly applauding those words, slowly dismissed that assembly of his subjects. Thus honoured by them and looked upon with auspicious glances, the old king, O chief of Bharata's race, joined his hands and honoured them all in return. He then entered his own mansion with Gandhari. Listen now to what he did after that night had passed away.'" SECTION XI "Vaisampayana said, 'After that night had passed away, Dhritarashtra, the son of Amvika, despatched Vidura to Yudhishthira's mansion. Endued with great energy and the foremost of all persons possessed of intelligence, Vidura, having arrived at Yudhishthira's mansion, addressed that foremost of men, that king of unfading glory, in these words, "King Dhritarashtra has undergone the preliminary rites for accomplishing his purpose of retiring into the woods. He will set out for the woods, O king, on the coming day of full moon of the month of Kartika. He now solicits from thee, O foremost one of Kuru's race, some wealth. He wishes to perform the Sraddha of the high-souled son of Ganga, as also of Drona and Somadatta and Valhika of great intelligence, and of all his sons as also of all well-wishers of his that have been slain, and, if thou permittest it, of that wicked-souled wight, viz., the ruler of the Sindhus."[29] Hearing these words of Vidura, both Yudhishthira, and Pandu's son Arjuna of curly hair, became very glad and applauded them highly. Bhima, however, of great energy and unappeasable wrath, did not accept those words of Vidura in good spirits, recollecting the acts of Duryodhana. The diadem-decked Phalguna, understanding the thoughts of Bhimasena, slightly bending his face downwards, addressed that foremost of men in these words, "O Bhima, our royal father who is advancing in years, has resolved to retire into the woods. He wishes to make gifts for advancing the happiness of his slain kinsmen and well-wishers now in the other world. O thou of Kuru's race, he wishes to give away wealth that belongs to thee by conquest. Indeed, O mighty-armed one, it is for Bhishma and others that the old king is desirous of making those gifts. It behoves thee to grant thy permission. By good luck it is, O thou of mighty arms that Dhritarashtra today begs wealth of us, he who was formerly begged by us. Behold the reverse brought about by Time. That king who was before the lord and protector of the whole Earth, now desires to go into the woods, his kinsmen and associates all slain by foes. O chief of men, let not thy views deviate from granting the permission asked for. O mighty-armed one, refusal, besides bringing infamy, will be productive of demerit. Do thou learn your duty in this matter from the king, thy eldest brother, who is lord of all. It becometh thee to give instead of refusing, O chief of Bharata's race." Vibhatsu who was saying so was applauded by king Yudhishthira the just. Yielding to wrath, Bhimasena said these words, "O Phalguna, it is we that shall make gifts in the matter of Bhishma's obsequies, as also of king Somadatta and of Bhurisravas, of the royal sage Valhika, and of the high-souled Drona, and of all others. Our mother Kunti shall make such obsequial offerings for Karna. O foremost of men, let not Dhritarashtra perform those Sraddhas. Even this is what I think. Let not our foes be gladdened. Let Duryodhana and others sink from a miserable to a more miserable position. Alas, it was those wretches of their race that caused the whole Earth to be exterminated. How hast thou been able to forget that anxiety of twelve long years, and our residence in deep incognito that was so painful to Draupadi? Where was Dhritarashtra's affection for us then? Clad in a black deer-skin and divested of all thy ornaments, with the princess of Panchala in thy company, didst thou not follow this king? Where were Bhishma and Drona then, and where was Somadatta? Thou hadst to live for thirteen years in the woods, supporting thyself on the products of the wilderness. Thy eldest father did not then look at thee with eyes of parental affection. Hast thou forgotten, O Partha, that it was this wretch of our race, of wicked understanding, that enquired of Vidura, when the match at dice was going on,--'What has been won?'" Hearing thus far, king Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, endued with great intelligence, rebuked him and told him to be silent.'" SECTION XII "'Arjuna said, "O Bhima, thou art my elder brother and, therefore, my senior and preceptor. I dare not say anything more than what I have already said. The royal sage Dhritarashtra deserves to be honoured by us in every respect. They that are good, they that are distinguished above the common level, they that break not the distinctions which characterise the good, remember not the wrongs done to them but only the benefits they have received." Hearing these words of the high-souled Phalguna, the righteous-souled Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, addressed Vidura and said these words, "Instructed by me, O Kshattri, do thou say unto the Kuru king that I shall give him as much wealth from my treasury as he wishes to give away for the obsequies of his sons, and of Bhishma and others among his well-wishers and benefactors. Let not Bhima be cheerless at this!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said these words, king Yudhishthira the just, highly applauded Arjuna. Meanwhile Bhimasena began to cast angry glances at Dhananjaya. Then Yudhishthira, endued with great intelligence, once more addressed Vidura and said, "It behoves not king Dhritarashtra to be angry with Bhimasena. This Bhima of great intelligence was greatly afflicted by cold and rain and heat and by a thousand other griefs while residing in the woods. All this is not unknown to thee. Do thou, however, instructed by me, say unto the king, O foremost one of Bharata's race, that he may take from my house whatever articles he wishes and in whatever measure also he likes. Thou shalt also tell the king that he should not allow his heart to dwell on this exhibition of pride in which Bhima, deeply afflicted, has indulged. Whatever wealth I have and whatever Arjuna has in his house, the owner thereof is king Dhritarashtra. Even this thou shouldst tell him. Let the king make gifts unto the Brahmanas. Let him spend as largely as he likes. Let him free himself from the debt he owes to his sons and well-wishers. Let him be told besides,--O Monarch, this very body of mine is at thy disposal and all the wealth I have. Know this, and let there be no doubt in this."'" SECTION XIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by king Yudhishthira, Vidura, that foremost of all intelligent persons, returned to Dhritarashtra and said unto him these words of grave import. "I at first reported thy message to king Yudhishthira. Reflecting on thy words, Yudhishthira of great splendour applauded them highly. Vibhatsu also, of great energy, places all his mansions, with all the wealth therein, as also his very life-breaths, at thy disposal. Thy son, king Yudhishthira, too, offers thee, O royal sage, his kingdom and life-breath and wealth and all else that belongs to him. Bhima, however, of mighty arms, recollecting all his innumerable sorrows, has with difficulty given his consent, breathing many heavy sighs. That mighty-armed hero, O monarch, was solicited by the righteous king as also by Vibhatsu, and induced to assume relations of cordiality towards thee. King Yudhishthira the just, has prayed thee not to give way to dissatisfaction for the improper conduct which Bhima has displayed at the recollection of former hostilities. This is generally the behaviour of Kshatriyas in battle, O king, and this Vrikodara is devoted to battle and the practices of Kshatriyas. 'Both myself and Arjuna, O king, repeatedly beg thee for pardoning Vrikodara. Be gracious unto us. Thou art our lord. Whatever wealth we have, thou mayst give away as thou likest, O ruler of Earth. Thou, O Bharata, art the Master of this kingdom and of all lives in it. Let the foremost one of Kuru's race give away, for the obsequial rites of his sons, all those foremost of gifts which should be given to the Brahmanas. Indeed, let him make those gifts unto persons of the regenerate order, taking away from our mansions jewels and gems, and kine, and slaves both male and female, and goats and sheep. Let gifts be made unto also those that are poor or sightless or in great distress, selecting the objects of his charity as he likes. Let, O Vidura, large pavilions be constructed, rich with food and drink of diverse tastes collected in profusion. Let reservoirs of water be constructed for enabling kine to drink, and let other works of merit be accomplished.'--Even these were the words said unto me by the king as also by Pritha's son Dhananjaya. It behoveth thee to say what should be done next." After Vidura had said these words, O Janamejaya, Dhritarashtra his satisfaction at them and set his heart upon making large presents on the day of full moon in the month of Kartika.'" SECTION XIV "Vaisampayana said,--'Thus addressed by Vidura, king Dhritarashtra became highly pleased, O monarch, with the act of Yudhishthira and Jishnu. Inviting then, after proper examination, thousands of deserving Brahmanas and superior Rishis, for the sake of Bhishma, as also of his sons and friends, and causing a large quantity of food and drink to be prepared, and cars and other vehicles and clothes, and gold and jewels and gems, and slaves both male and female, and goats and sheep, and blankets and costly articles to be collected, and villages and fields, and other kinds of wealth to be kept ready, as also elephants and steeds decked with ornaments, and many beautiful maidens who were the best of their sex, that foremost of kings gave them away for the advancement of the dead, naming each of them in due order as the gifts were made. Naming Drona, and Bhishma, and Somadatta, and Valhika, and king Duryodhana, and each one of his other sons, and all his well-wishers with Jayadratha numbering first, those gifts were made in due order. With the approval of Yudhishthira, that Sraddha-sacrifice became characterised by large gifts of wealth and profuse presents of jewels and gems and other kinds of treasure. Tellers and scribes on that occasion, under the orders of Yudhishthira, ceaselessly asked the old king.--Do thou command, O monarch, what gifts should be made to these. All things are ready here.--As soon as the king spoke, they gave away what he directed.[30] Unto him that was to receive a hundred, a thousand was given, and unto him that was to receive a thousand was given ten thousand, at the command of the royal son of Kunti.[31] Like the clouds vivifying the crops with their downpours, that royal cloud gratified the Brahmanas by downpours of wealth. After all those gifts had been distributed, the king, O thou of great intelligence, then deluged the assembled guests of all the four orders with repeated surges of food and drink of diverse tastes. Verily, the Dhritarashtra-ocean, swelling high, with jewels and gems for its waters, rich with the villages and fields and other foremost of gifts constituting its verdant islands, heaps of diverse kinds of precious articles for its rich caves, elephants and steeds for its alligators and whirlpools, the sound of Mridangas for its deep roars, and clothes and wealth and precious stones for its waves, deluged the Earth. It was even in this way, O king, that that monarch made gifts for the advancement in the other world of his sons and grandsons and Pitris as also of himself and Gandhari. At last when he became tired with the task of making gifts in such profusion, that great Gift-sacrifice came to an end. Even thus did that king of Kuru's race perform his Gift-sacrifice. Actors and mimes continually danced and sang on the occasion and contributed to the merriment of all the guests. Food and drink of diverse tastes were given away in large quantities. Making gifts in this way for ten days, the royal son of Amvika, O chief of Bharata's race, became freed from the debts he owed to his sons and grandsons.'" SECTION XV "Vaisampayana said,--'The royal son of Amvika, viz., Dhritarashtra, having settled the hour of his departure for the woods, summoned those heroes, the Pandavas. Possessed of great intelligence, the old monarch, with Gandhari, duly accosted those princes. Having caused the minor rites to be performed, by Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas, on that day which was the day of full moon in the month of Kartika, he caused the fire which he worshipped daily to be taken up. Leaving his usual robes he wore deer-skins and barks, and accompanied by his daughters-in-law, he set out of his mansion. When the royal son of Vichitraviryya thus set out, a loud wail was uttered by the Pandava and the Kaurava ladies as also by other women belonging to the Kaurava race. The king worshipped the mansion in which he had lived with fried paddy and excellent flowers of diverse kinds. He also honoured all his servants with gifts of wealth, and then leaving that abode set out on his journey. Then O son, king Yudhishthira, trembling all over, with utterance choked with tears, said these words in a loud voice, viz.,--"O righteous monarch, where dost thou go?"--and fell down in a swoon. Arjuna, burning with great grief, sighed repeatedly. That foremost of Bharata princes, telling Yudhishthira that he should not behave in that manner, stood cheerlessly and with heart plunged into distress. Vrikodara, the heroic Phalguna, the two sons of Madri, Vidura, Sanjaya, Dhritarashtra's son by his Vaisya wife, and Kripa, and Dhaumya, and other Brahmanas, all followed the old monarch, with voices choked in grief. Kunti walked ahead, bearing on her shoulders the hand of Gandhari who walked with her bandaged eyes. King Dhritarashtra walked confidently behind Gandhari, placing his hand on her shoulder.[32] Drupada's daughter Krishna, she of the Sattwata race, Uttara the daughter-in-law of the Kauravas, who had recently become a mother, Chitrangada, and other ladies of the royal house-hold, all proceeded with the old monarch. The wail they uttered on that occasion, O king, from grief, resembled the loud lamentations of a swarm of she-ospreys. Then the wives of the citizens,--Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras,--also came out into the streets from every side. At Dhritarashtra's departure, O king, all the citizens of Hastinapore became as distressed as they had been, O monarch, when they had witnessed the departure of the Pandavas in former days after their defeat at the match at dice. Ladies that had never seen the sun or the moon, came out into the streets on the occasion, in great grief, when king Dhritarashtra proceeded towards the great forest.'" SECTION XVI "Vaisampayana said, 'Great was the uproar, at that time, O king, of both men and women standing on the terraces of mansions or on the Earth. Possessed of great intelligence, the old king, with joined hands, and trembling with weakness, proceeded with difficulty along the principal street which was crowded with persons of both sexes. He left the city called after the elephant by the principal gate and then repeatedly bade that crowd of people to return to their homes. Vidura had set his heart on going to the forest along with the king. The Suta Sanjaya also, the son of Gavalgani, the chief minister of Dhritarashtra, was of the same heart. King Dhritarashtra however, caused Kripa and the mighty car-warrior Yuyutsu to refrain from following him. He made them over into Yudhishthira's hands. After the citizens had ceased following the monarch, king Yudhishthira, with the ladies of his house-hold, prepared to stop, at the command of Dhritarashtra. Seeing that his mother Kunti was desirous of retiring into the woods, the king said unto her, "I shall follow the old monarch. Do thou desist. It behoveth thee, O queen, to return to the city, accompanied by these thy daughters-in-law. This monarch proceeds to the woods, firmly resolved to practise penances." Though king Yudhishthira said these words unto her, with his eyes bathed in tears, Kunti, however, without answering him, continued to proceed, catching hold of Gandhari. "'Kunti said, "O king, never show any disregard for Sahadeva. He is very much attached to me, O monarch, and to thee also always. Thou shouldst always bear in mind Karna who never retreated from battle. Through my folly that hero has been slain in the field of battle. Surely, my son, this heart of mine is made of steel, since it does not break into a hundred pieces at not seeing that child born of Surya. When such has been the case, O chastiser of foes, what can I now do? I am very much to blame for not having proclaimed the truth about the birth of Surya's child. O crusher of foes, I hope thou wilt, with all thy brothers, make excellent gifts for the sake of that son of Surya. O mower of foes, thou shouldst always do what is agreeable to Draupadi. Thou shouldst look after Bhimasena and Arjuna and Nakula and Sahadeva. The burthens of the Kuru race have now fallen on thee, O king. I shall live in the woods with Gandhari, besmearing my body with filth, engaged in the performance of penances, and devoted to the service of my father-in-law and mother-in-law."'[33] "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by her, the righteous-souled Yudhishthira, with passions under complete control, became, with all his brothers, plunged into great distress. Endued with great intelligence, the king said not a word. Having reflected for a little while, king Yudhishthira the Just, cheerless and plunged in anxiety and sorrow, addressed his mother, saying,--"Strange, indeed, is this purpose of thine. It behoves thee not to accomplish it. I can never grant thee permission. It behoves thee to show us compassion. Formerly, when we were about to set out of Hastinapore for the woods, O thou of agreeable features, it was thou who, reciting to us the story of Vidula's instructions to her son, excited us to exertion. It behoves thee not to abandon us now. Having slain the kings of Earth, I have won sovereignty, guided by thy words of wisdom communicated through Vasudeva. Where now is that understanding of thine about which I had heard from Vasudeva? Dost thou wish now to fall away from those Kshatriya practices about which thou hadst instructed us? Abandoning ourselves, this kingdom, and this daughter-in-law of thine who is possessed of great fame, how wilt thou live in the inaccessible woods? Do thou relent!" Kunti, with tears in her eyes, heard these words of her son, but continued to proceed on her way. Then Bhima addressed her, saying,--"When, O Kunti, sovereignty has been won, and when the time has come for thee to enjoy that sovereignty thus acquired by thy children, when the duties of royalty await discharge by thee, whence has this desire got hold of thy mind? Why then didst thou cause us to exterminate the Earth? For what reason wouldst thou leave all and wish to take up thy abode in the woods? We were born in the woods. Why then didst thou bring us from the woods while we were children? Behold, the two sons of Madri are overwhelmed with sorrow and grief. Relent, O mother, O thou of great fame, do not go into the woods now. Do thou enjoy that prosperity which acquired by might, has become Yudhishthira's today." Firmly resolved to retire into the woods, Kunti disregarded these lamentations of her sons. Then Draupadi with a cheerless face, accompanied by Subhadra, followed her weeping mother-in-law who was journeying on from desire of going into the woods. Possessed of great wisdom and firmly resolved on retirement from the world, the blessed dame walked on, frequently looking at her weeping children. The Pandavas, with all their wives and servitors, continued to follow her. Restraining then her tears, she addressed her children in these words.'" SECTION XVII "'Kunti said, "It is even so, O mighty-armed son of Pandu, as thou sayest. Ye kings, formerly when ye were cheerless, it was even in this way that I excited you all. Yes, seeing that your kingdom was wrested from you by a match at dice, seeing that you all fell from happiness, seeing that you were domineered over by kinsmen, I instilled courage and high thoughts into your minds. Ye foremost of men, I encouraged you in order that they that were the sons of Pandu might not be lost, in order that their fame might not be lost. You are all equal to Indra. Your prowess resembles that of the very gods. In order that you might not live, watching the faces of others, I acted in that way.[34] I instilled courage into thy heart in order that thou who art the foremost of all righteous persons, who art equal to Vasava, might not again go into the woods and live in misery. I instilled courage into your hearts in order that this Bhima who is possessed of the strength of ten thousand elephants and whose prowess and manliness are widely known, might not sink into insignificance and ruin. I instilled courage into your hearts in order that this Vijaya, who was born after Bhimasena, and who is equal unto Vasava himself might not be cheerless. I instilled courage into your hearts in order that Nakula and Sahadeva, who are always devoted to their seniors, might not be weakened and rendered cheerless by hunger. I acted in that way in order that this lady of well-developed proportions and of large expansive eyes might not endure the wrongs inflicted on her in the public hall without being avenged. In the very sight of you all, O Bhima, Dussasana, through folly, dragged her trembling all over like a plantain plant, during the period of her functional illness, and after she had been won at dice, as if she were a slave. All this was known to me. Indeed, the race of Pandu had been subjugated (by foes). The Kurus, viz., my father-in-law and others, were cheerless when she, desirous of a protector, uttered loud lamentations like a she-osprey. When she was dragged by her fair locks by the sinful Dussasana with little intelligence, I was deprived of my senses, O king. Know, that for enhancing your energy, I instilled that courage into your hearts by reciting the words of Vidula, O my sons. I instilled courage into your hearts, O my sons, in order that the race of Pandu, represented by my children, might not be lost. The sons and grandsons of that person who brings a race to infamy never succeed in attaining to the regions of the righteous. Verily, the ancestors of the Kaurava race were in danger of losing those regions of felicity which had become theirs. As regards myself, O my sons, I, before this, enjoyed the great fruits of that sovereignty which my husband had acquired. I made large gifts. I duly drank the Soma juice in sacrifice.[35] It was not for my own sake that I had urged Vasudeva with the stirring words of Vidula. It was for your sake that I had called upon you to follow that advice. O my sons, I do not desire the fruits of that sovereignty which has been won by my children. O thou of great puissance, I wish to attain, by my penances, to those regions of felicity which have been acquired by my husband. By rendering obedient service to my father-in-law and mother-in-law both of whom wish to take up their abode in the woods, and by penances, I desire, O Yudhishthira, to waste my body. Do thou cease to follow me, O foremost one of Kuru's race, along with Bhima and others. Let thy understanding be always devoted to righteousness. Let thy mind be always great."'" SECTION XVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of Kunti, the sinless Pandavas, O best of kings, became ashamed. They, therefore, desisted, along with the princess of Panchala, from following her.[36] Beholding Kunti resolved to go into the woods, the ladies of the Pandava household uttered loud lamentations. The Pandavas then circumambulated the king and saluted him duly. They ceased to follow further, having failed to persuade Pritha to return. Then Amvika's son of great energy, viz., Dhritarashtra, addressing Gandhari and Vidura and supporting himself on them, said, "Let the royal mother of Yudhishthira cease to go with us. What Yudhishthira has said is all very true. Abandoning this high prosperity of her sons, abandoning those high fruits that may be hers, why should she go into the inaccessible woods, leaving her children like a person of little intelligence? Living in the enjoyment of sovereignty, she is capable of practising penances and observing the high vow of gifts. Let her, therefore, listen to my words. O Gandhari, I have been much gratified with the services rendered to me by this daughter-in-law of mine. Conversant as thou art with all duties, it behoveth thee to command her return." Thus addressed by her lord, the daughter of Suvala repeated unto Kunti all those words of the old king and added her own words of grave import. She, however, failed to cause Kunti to desist inasmuch as that chaste lady, devoted to righteousness, had firmly set her heart upon residing in the woods. The Kuru ladies, understanding how firm her resolution was regarding her retirement into the woods, and seeing that those foremost ones of Kuru's race (viz., their own lords), had ceased to follow her, set up a loud wail of lamentation. After all the sons of Pritha and all the ladies had retraced their steps, king Yudhishthira of great wisdom continued his journey to the woods. The Pandavas, exceedingly cheerless and afflicted with grief and sorrow accompanied by their wives, returned to the city, on their cars. At that time the city of Hastinapura, with its entire population of men, both old and young, and women, became cheerless and plunged into sorrow. No festivals of rejoicing were observed. Afflicted with grief, the Pandavas were without any energy. Deserted by Kunti, they were deeply afflicted with grief, like calves destitute of their dams. Dhritarashtra reached that day a place far removed from the city. The puissant monarch arrived at last on the banks of the Bhagirathi and took rest there for the night. Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas duly ignited their sacred fires in that retreat of ascetics. Surrounded by those foremost of Brahmanas, those sacred fires blazed forth in beauty. The sacred fire of the old king was also ignited. Sitting near his own fire, he poured libations on it according to due rites, and then worshipped the thousand-rayed sun as he was on the point of setting. Then Vidura and Sanjaya made a bed for the king by spreading some blades of Kusa grass. Near the bed of that Kuru hero they made another for Gandhari. In close proximity to Gandhari, Yudhishthira's mother Kunti, observant of excellent vows, happily laid herself down. Within hearing distance of those three, slept Vidura and others. The Yajaka Brahmanas and other followers of the king laid themselves down on their respective beds. The foremost of Brahmanas that were there chanted aloud many sacred hymns. The sacrificial fires blazed forth all around. That night, therefore, seemed as delightful to them as a Brahmi night.[37] When the night passed away, they all arose from their beds and went through their morning acts. Pouring libations then on the sacred fire, they continued their journey. Their first day's experience of the forest proved very painful to them on account of the grieving inhabitants of both the city and the provinces of the Kuru kingdom.'" SECTION XIX "Vaisampayana said. 'Following the advice of Vidura, the king took up his abode on the banks of the Bhagirathi which were sacred and deserved to be peopled with the righteous. There many Brahmanas who had taken up their abode in the woods, as also many Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, came to see the old monarch. Sitting in their midst, he gladdened them all by his words. Having duly worshipped the Brahmanas with their disciples, he dismissed them all. As evening came, the king, and Gandhari of great fame, both descended into the stream of the Bhagirathi and duly performed their ablutions for purifying themselves. The king and the queen, and Vidura and others, O Bharata, having bathed in the sacred stream, performed the usual rites of religion. After the king had purified himself by a bath, the daughter of Kuntibhoja gently led both him, who was to her as her father-in-law and Gandhari from the water into the dry bank. The Yajakas had made a sacrificial altar there for the king. Devoted to truth, the latter poured libations then on the fire. From the banks of the Bhagirathi the old king, with his followers, observant of vows and with senses restrained, then proceeded to Kurukshetra. Possessed of great intelligence, the king arrived at the retreat of the royal sage Satayupa of great wisdom and had an interview with him. Satayupa, O scorcher of foes, had been the great king of the Kekayas. Having made over the sovereignty of his kingdom to his son he had come into the woods. Satayupa, received king Dhritarashtra with due rites. Accompanied by him, the latter proceeded to the retreat of Vyasa. Arrived at Vyasa's retreat, the delighter of the Kurus received his initiation into the forest mode of life. Returning he took up his abode in the retreat of Satayupa. The high-souled Satayupa, instructed Dhritarashtra in all the rites of the forest mode, at the command of Vyasa. In this way the high-souled Dhritarashtra set himself to the practice of penances, and all his followers also to the same course of conduct. Queen Gandhari also, O monarch, along with Kunti, assumed barks of trees and deer-skins for her robe, and set herself to the observance of the same vows as her lord. Restraining their senses in thought, words, and deeds, as well as by eye, they began to practise severe austerities. Divested of all stupefaction of mind, king Dhritarashtra began to practise vows and penances like a great Rishi, reducing his body to skin and bones, for his flesh was all dried up, bearing matted locks on head, and his person clad in barks and skins. Vidura, conversant with the true interpretations of righteousness, and endued with great intelligence, as also Sanjaya, waited upon the old king with his wife. Both of them with souls under subjection, Vidura and Sanjaya also reduced themselves, and wore barks and rags.'" SECTION XX "Vaisampayana said, 'Those foremost of ascetics, viz. Narada and Parvata and Devala of austere penances, came there to see king Dhritarashtra. The Island-born Vyasa with all his disciples, and other persons endued with great wisdom and crowned with ascetic success, and the royal sage Satayupa of advanced years and possessed of great merit, also came. Kunti worshipped them with due rites, O king. All those ascetics were highly gratified with the worship offered to them. Those great Rishis gladdened the high-souled king Dhritarashtra with discourses on religion and righteousness. At the conclusion of their converse, the celestial Rishi Narada, beholding all things as objects of direct perceptions, said the following words.' "'Narada said, "There was a ruler of the Kekayas, possessed of great prosperity and perfectly fearless. His name was Sahasrachitya and he was the grandfather of this Satayupa. Resigning his kingdom to his eldest son endued with a large measure of righteousness, the virtuous king Sahasrachitya retired into the woods. Reaching the other end of blazing penances, that lord of Earth, endued with great splendour, attained to the region of Purandara where he continued to live in his company. On many occasions, while visiting the region of Indra, O king, I saw the monarch, whose sins had all been burnt off by penances, residing in Indra's abode. After the same manner, king Sailalaya, the grandfather of Bhagadatta, attained to the region of Indra by the power alone of his penances. There was another king, O monarch, of the name of Prishadhra who resembled the wielder of the thunder-bolt himself. That king also, by his penances proceeded from the Earth to Heaven. In this very forest, O king, that lord of Earth, Purukutsa, the son of Mandhatri, attained to high success. That foremost of rivers, viz., Narmada, became the consort of that king. Having undergone penances in this very forest, that ruler of Earth proceeded to Heaven. There was another king, highly righteous, of the name of Sasaloman. He too underwent severe austerities in this forest and then ascended to Heaven. Thou also, O monarch, having arrived at this forest, shalt, through the grace of the Island-born, attain to a goal that is very high and that is difficult of attainment. Thou also, O foremost of kings, at the end of thy penances, become endued with great prosperity and, accompanied by Gandhari, attain to the goal reached by those high-souled ones. Dwelling in the presence of the slayer of Vala, Pandu thinks of thee always. He will, O monarch, certainly assist thee in the attainment of prosperity. Through serving thee and Gandhari, this daughter-in-law of thine, possessed of great fame, will attain to residence with her husband in the other world. She is the mother of Yudhishthira who is the eternal Dharma. We behold all this, O king, with our spiritual vision. Vidura will enter into the high-souled Yudhishthira. Sanjaya also, through meditation, will ascend from this world into Heaven."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'That high-souled chief of Kuru's race, possessed of learning, having, with his wife, heard these words of Narada, praised them and worshipped Narada with unprecedented honours. The conclave of Brahmanas there present became filled with great joy, and desirous of gladdening king Dhritarashtra, O monarch, themselves worshipped Narada with profound regards. Those foremost of regenerate persons also praised the words of Narada. Then the royal sage Satayupa, addressing Narada, said, "Thy holy self hath enhanced the devotion of the Kuru king, of all those people here, and of myself also, O thou of great splendour. I have, however, the wish to ask thee something. Listen to me as I say it. It has reference to the king Dhritarashtra, O celestial Rishi, that art worshipped by all the worlds. Thou art acquainted with the truth of every affair. Endued with celestial sight, thou beholdest, O regenerate Rishi, what the diverse goals are of human beings. Thou hast said what the goal has been of the kings mentioned by thee, viz., association with the chief of celestials. Thou hast not, however, O great Rishi, declared what those regions are that will be acquired by this king. O puissant one, I wish to hear from thee what region will be acquired by the royal Dhritarashtra. It behoveth thee to tell me truly the kind of region that will be his and the time when he will attain to it." Thus addressed by him, Narada of celestial sight and endued with austere penances, said in the midst of the assembly these words highly agreeable to the minds of all.' "'Narada said, "Repairing at my will to the mansion of Sakra, I have seen Sakra the lord of Sachi; and there, O royal sage, I have beheld king Pandu. There a talk arose, O monarch, regarding this Dhritarashtra and those highly austere penances which he is performing. There I heard from the lips of Sakra himself that there are three years yet of the period of life allotted to this king. After that, king Dhritarashtra, accompanied by his wife Gandhari, will go to the regions of Kuvera and be highly honoured by that king of kings. He will go there on a car moving at his will, his person adorned with celestial ornaments. He is the son of a Rishi; he is highly blessed; he has burnt all his sins by his penances. Endued with a righteous soul, he will rove at will through the regions of the deities, the Gandharvas, and the Rakshasas. That about which thou hast enquired is a mystery of the gods. Through my affection for you, I have declared this high truth. Ye all are possessed of the wealth of Srutis and have consumed all your sins by your penances."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these sweet words of the celestial Rishi, all the persons there assembled, as also king Dhritarashtra, became greatly cheered and highly pleased. Having cheered Dhritarashtra of great wisdom with such talk, they left the spot, wending away by the path that belongs to those who are crowned with success.'" SECTION XXI "Vaisampayana said, 'Upon the retirement of the chief of the Kurus into the forest, the Pandavas, O king, afflicted besides by grief on account of their mother, became very cheerless. The citizens also of Hastinapura were possessed by deep sorrow. The Brahmanas always talked of the old king. "How, indeed, will the king, who has become old, live in the solitary woods? How will the highly blessed Gandhari, and Pritha, the daughter of Kuntibhoja, live there? The royal sage has always lived in the enjoyment of every comfort. He will certainly be very miserable. Arrived in deep woods, what is now the condition of that personage of royal descent, who is, again, bereft of vision? Difficult is the feat that Kunti has achieved by separating herself from her sons. Alas casting off kingly prosperity, she chose a life in the woods. What, again, is the condition of Vidura who is always devoted to the service of his elder brother? How also is the intelligent son of Gavalgani who is so faithful to the food given him by his master?" Verily, the citizens, including those of even nonage meeting together, asked one another these questions. The Pandavas also, exceedingly afflicted with grief, sorrowed for their old mother, and could not live in their city long. Thinking also of their old sire, the king, who had lost all his children, and the highly blessed Gandhari, and Vidura of great intelligence, they failed to enjoy peace of mind. They had no pleasure in sovereignty, nor in women, nor in the study of the Vedas. Despair penetrated their souls as they thought of the old king and as they repeatedly reflected on that terrible slaughter of kinsmen. Indeed, thinking of the slaughter of the youthful Abhimanyu on the field of battle, of the mighty-armed Karna who never retreated from the fray, of the sons of Draupadi, and of other friends of theirs, those heroes became exceedingly cheerless. They failed to obtain peace of mind upon repeatedly reflecting that the Earth had become divested of both her heroes and her wealth. Draupadi had lost all her children, and the beautiful Subhadra also had become childless. They too were of cheerless hearts and grieved exceedingly. Beholding, however, the son of Virata's daughter, viz., thy sire Parikshit, thy grandsires somehow held their life-breaths.'" SECTION XXII "Vaisampayana said, 'Those foremost of men, the heroic Pandavas,--those delighters of their mother--became exceedingly afflicted with grief. They who had formerly been always engaged in kingly offices, did not at that time attend to those acts at all in their capital. Afflicted with deep grief, they failed to derive pleasure from anything. If any body accosted them, they never honoured him with an answer. Although those irresistible heroes were in gravity like the ocean, yet they were now deprived of their knowledge and their very senses by the grief they felt. Thinking of their mother, the sons of Pandu were filled with anxiety as to how their emaciated mother was serving the old couple. "How, indeed, is that king, whose sons have all been slain and who is without refuge, living alone, with only his wife, in the woods that are the haunt of beasts of prey? Alas, how does that highly blessed queen, Gandhari, whose dear ones have all been slain, follow her blind lord in the solitary woods?"--Even such was the anxiety manifested by the Pandavas when they talked with one another. They then set their hearts upon seeing the king in his forest retreat. Then Sahadeva, bowing down to the king, said, "I see thy heart to be set upon seeing our sire. From my respect for thee, however, I could not speedily open my mouth on the subject of our journey to the woods. The time for that sojourn is now come. By good luck I shall see Kunti living in the observance of penances, with matted locks on her head, practising severe austerities, and emaciated with sleeping on blades of Kusa and Kasa. She was brought up in palaces and mansions, and nursed in every comfort and luxury. Alas, when shall I see my mother who is now toil-worn and plunged into exceeding misery? Without doubt, O chief of Bharata's race, the ends of mortals are exceedingly uncertain, since Kunti, who is a princess by birth, is now living in misery in the woods." Hearing these words of Sahadeva, queen Draupadi, that foremost of all women duly honouring the king said, with proper salutations,--"Alas, when shall I see queen Pritha, if, indeed, she be yet alive. I shall consider my life as not passed in vain if I succeed in beholding her once more, O king. Let this sort of understanding be ever stable in thee. Let thy mind always take a pleasure in such righteousness as is involved, O king of kings, in thy desire of bestowing such a high boon on us. Know, O king, that all these ladies of thy house are staying with their feet raised for the journey, from desire of beholding Kunti, and Gandhari, and my father-in-law." Thus addressed by queen Draupadi, the king, O chief of Bharata's race, summoned all the leaders of his forces to his presence and told them,--"Cause my army, teeming with cars and elephants, to march out. I shall behold king Dhritarashtra who is now living in the woods." Unto those that supervised the concerns of the ladies, the king gave the order, "Let diverse kinds of conveyances be properly equipt, and all my closed litters that count by thousands. Let carriages and granaries, and wardrobes, and treasuries, be equipt and ordered out, and let mechanics have the command to march out. Let men in charge of treasuries go out on the way leading to the ascetic retreats on Kurukshetra. Whoever amongst the citizens wishes to see the king is allowed to do so without any restriction. Let him proceed, properly protected. Let cooks and superintendents of kitchens, and the whole culinary establishment, and diverse kinds of edibles and viands, be ordered to be borne out on carts and conveyances. Let it be proclaimed that we march out tomorrow. Indeed, let no delay occur (in carrying out the arrangements). Let pavilions and resting houses of diverse kinds be erected on the way." Even these were the commands which the eldest son of Pandu gave, with his brothers. When morning came, O monarch, the king set out, with a large train of women and old men. Going out of his city, king Yudhishthira waited five days for such citizens as might accompany him, and then proceeded towards the forest.'" SECTION XXIII "Vaisampayana said, 'That foremost one of Bharata's race, then ordered his troops, which were protected by heroes that were headed by Arjuna and that resembled the very guardians of the universe, to march out. Instantly, a loud clamour arose consisting of the words--Equip, Equip!--of horse-men, O Bharata, engaged in equipping and their steeds. Some proceeded on carriages and vehicles, some on horses of great speed, and some on cars made of gold endued with the splendour of blazing fires. Some proceeded on mighty elephants, and some on camels, O king. Some proceeded on foot, that belonged to that class of combatants which is armed with tiger-like claws.[38] The citizens and inhabitants of the provinces, desirous of seeing Dhritarashtra, followed the king on diverse kinds of conveyances. The preceptor Kripa also, of Gotama's race, that great leader of forces, taking all the forces with him, proceeded, at the command of the king, towards the old monarch's retreat. The Kuru king Yudhishthira, that perpetuator of Kuru's race, surrounded by a large number of Brahmanas, his praises sung by a large band of Sutas and Magadhas and bards, and with a white umbrella held over his head and encompassed around by a large number of cars, set out on his journey. Vrikodara, the son of the Wind-god, proceeded on an elephant as gigantic as a hill, equipt with strung bow and machines and weapons of attack and defence. The twin sons of Madri proceeded on two fleet steeds, well cased in mail, well protected, and equipt with banners. Arjuna of mighty energy, with senses under control, proceeded on an excellent car endued with solar effulgence and unto which were equipt excellent steeds of white hue. The ladies of the royal household, headed by Draupadi, proceeded in closed litters protected by the superintendents of women. They scattered copious showers of wealth as they proceeded. Teeming with cars and elephants and steeds, and echoing with the blare of trumpets and the music of Vinas, the Pandava host, O monarch, blazed with great beauty. Those chiefs of Kuru's race proceeded slowly, resting by delightful banks of rivers and lakes, O monarch. Yuyutsu of mighty energy, and Dhaumya, the priest at the command of Yudhishthira, were engaged in protecting the city. By slow marches, king Yudhishthira reached Kurukshetra, and then, crossing the Yamuna, that highly sacred river, he beheld from a distance the retreat, O thou of Kuru's race, of the royal sage of great wisdom and of Dhritarashtra. Then all the men became filled with joy and quickly entered the forest, filling it with loud sounds of glee, O chief of Bharata's race.'" SECTION XXIV "Vaisampayana said, 'The Pandavas alighted, at a distance, from their cars and proceeded on foot to the retreat of the king, bending themselves in humility. All the combatants also, and all the denizens of the kingdom, and the spouses of the Kuru chiefs, followed them on foot. The Pandavas then reached the sacred retreat of Dhritarashtra which abounded with herds of deer and which was adorned with plantain plants. Many ascetics of rigid vows, filled with curiosity, came there for beholding the Pandavas who had arrived at the retreat. The king, with tears in his eyes, asked them, saying,--"Where has my eldest sire, the perpetuator of Kuru's race, gone?" They answered, O monarch, telling him that he had gone to the Yamuna for his ablutions, as also for fetching flowers and waters. Proceeding quickly on foot along the path pointed out by them, the Pandavas beheld all of them from a distance. Desirous of meeting with their sire they walked with a rapid pace. Then Sahadeva ran with speed towards the spot where Pritha was. Touching the feet of his mother, he began to weep aloud. With tears gushing down her cheeks, she saw her darling child. Raising her son up and embracing him with her arms, she informed Gandhari of Sahadeva's arrival. Then seeing the king and Bhimasena and Arjuna, and Nakula, Pritha endeavoured to advance quickly towards them. She was walking in advance of the childless old couple, and was dragging them forward. The Pandavas, beholding her, fell down on the earth. The puissant and high-souled monarch, endued with great intelligence, recognising them by their voices and also by touch, comforted them one after another. Shedding tears, those high-souled princes, with due formalities, approached the old king and Gandhari, as also their own mother. Indeed, regaining their senses, and once more comforted by their mother, the Pandavas took away from the king and their aunt and mother the jars full of water which they had been carrying, forbearing them themselves. The ladies of those lions among men, and all the women of the royal household, as also all the inhabitants of the city and provinces, then beheld the old king. King Yudhishthira presented all those individuals one after another to the old king, repeating their names and races, and then himself worshipped his eldest sire with reverence. Surrounded by them all, the old monarch, with eyes bathed in tears of joy, regarded himself as once more staying in the midst of the city called after the elephant. Saluted with reverence by all his daughters-in-law headed by Krishna, king Dhritarashtra, endued with great intelligence, with Gandhari and Kunti, became filled with joy. He then reached his forest-retreat that was applauded by Siddhas and Charanas, and that then teemed with vast crowds of men all desirous of beholding him, like the firmament teeming with innumerable stars.'" SECTION XXV "Vaisampayana said, 'The king, O chief of Bharata's race, with those foremost of men, viz., his brothers, who were all possessed of eyes that resembled lotus-petals, took his seat in the retreat of his eldest sire. There sat around him many highly-blessed ascetics, hailing from diverse regions, from desire of beholding the sons of that lord of Kuru's race, viz., the Pandavas of wide chests. They said, "We wish to know who amongst these is Yudhishthira, who are Bhima and Arjuna, who the twins, and who is Draupadi of great fame." Then the Suta, Sanjaya, in answer to their queries, pointed out to them the Pandavas, naming each, and Draupadi too as also the other ladies of the Kuru household.' "'Sanjaya said, "This one that is as fair of complexion as pure gold, that is endued with a body which looks like that of a full-grown lion, that is possessed of a large aquiline nose, and wide and expansive eyes that are, again, of a coppery hue, is the Kuru king. This one, whose tread resembles that of an infuriate elephant, whose complexion is as fair as that of heated gold, whose frame is of large and expansive proportions and whose arms are long and stout, is Vrikodara. Behold him well! The mighty bowman who sits besides him, of darkish complexion and youthful frame, who resembles the leader of an elephantine herd, whose shoulders are as high as those of a lion, who walks like a sporting elephant, and whose eyes are as expansive as the petals of a lotus, is the hero called Arjuna. Those two foremost of men, that are sitting besides Kunti, are the twins, resembling Vishnu and Mahendra. In this whole world of men, they have not their equals in beauty and strength and excellence of conduct. This lady, of eyes as expansive as lotus petals, who seems to have touched the middle age of life, whose complexion resembles that of the blue lotus, and who looks like a goddess of Heaven, is Krishna, the embodied form of the goddess of prosperity.[39] She who sits besides her, possessed of the complexion of pure gold, who looks like the embodied rays of the moon, in the midst of the other ladies, is, ye foremost of regenerate ones, the sister of that unrivalled hero who wields the discus. This other, as fair as pure gold, is the daughter of the snake-chief and wife of Arjuna.[40] This other whose complexion is like that of pure gold or like that of Madhuka flowers, is the princess Chitrangada. This one, that is possessed of the complexion of an assemblage of blue lotuses, is the sister of that monarch, that lord of hosts, who used to always challenge Krishna. She is the foremost wife of Vrikodara. This is the daughter of the king of Magadha who was known by the name of Jarasandha. Possessed of the complexion of an assemblage of Champakas, she is the wife of the youngest son of Madravati. Possessed of a complexion as darkish as that of the blue lotus, she who sits there on the earth, and whose eyes are as expansive as lotus-petals, is the wife of the eldest son of Madravati. This lady whose complexion is as fair as that of heated gold and who sits with her child on her lap, is the daughter of king Virata. She is the wife of that Abhimanyu who, while divested of his car, was slain by Drona and others fighting from their cars.[41] These ladies, the hair on whose heads shows not the parted line, and who are clad in white, are the widows of the slain sons of Dhritarashtra. They are the daughters-in-law of this old king, the wives of his hundred sons, now deprived of both their husbands and children who have been slain by heroic foes. I have now pointed them out in the order of precedence. In consequence of their devotion to Brahmanas, their understandings and hearts are divested of every kind of crookedness. Possessed of pure souls, they have all been pointed out by me,--these princesses of the Kaurava house-hold,--in answer to your queries."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus that king of Kuru's race, of very advanced years, having met with those sons of him that was a deity among men, enquired about their welfare after all the ascetics had gone away. The warriors who had accompanied the Pandavas, leaving the retreat, sat themselves down at a little distance, alighting from their cars and the animals they rode. Indeed, after all the crowd, viz., the ladies, the old men, and the children, had been seated, the old king duly addressed them, making the usual enquiries of politeness.'" SECTION XXVI "'Dhritarashtra said, "O Yudhishthira, art thou in peace and happiness, with all thy brothers and the inhabitants of the city and the provinces? Are they that live in dependance on thee also happy? Are thy ministers, and servitors, and all thy seniors and preceptors also, happy? Are those also that live in thy dominions free from fear? Dost thou follow the old and traditional conduct of rulers of men? Is thy treasury filled without disregarding the restraints imposed by justice and equity? Dost thou behave as thou shouldst towards foes, neutrals, and allies? Dost thou duly look after the Brahmanas, always making them the first gifts (ordained in sacrifices and religious rites)? What need I say of the citizens, and thy servants, and kinsmen,--are thy foes, O chief of Bharata's race, gratified with thy behaviour? Dost thou, O king of kings, adore with devotion the Pitris and the deities? Dost thou worship guests with food and drink, O Bharata? Do the Brahmanas in thy dominions, devoted to the duties of their order, walk along the path of righteousness? Do the Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras also within thy kingdom, and all thy relatives, observe their respective duties? I hope the women, the children, and the old, among thy subjects, do not grieve (under distress) and do not beg (the necessaries of life). Are the ladies of thy household duly honoured in thy house, O best of men? I hope, O monarch, that this race of royal sages, having obtained thee for their king, have not fallen away from fame and glory."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Unto the old king who said so, Yudhishthira, conversant with morality and justice, and well-skilled in acts and speech, spoke as follows, putting some questions about his welfare.' "'Yudhishthira said, "Doth thy peace, O king, thy self-restraint, thy tranquillity of heart, grow? Is this my mother able to serve thee without fatigue and trouble? Will, O king, her residence in the woods be productive of fruits? I hope this queen, who is my eldest mother, who is emaciated with (exposure to) cold and wind and the toil of walking, and who is now devoted to the practice of severe austerities, no longer gives way, to grief for her children of mighty energy, all of whom, devoted to the duties of the Kshatriya order, have been slain on the field of battle. Does she accuse us, sinful wretches, that are responsible for their slaughter? Where is Vidura, O king? We do not see him here. I hope this Sanjaya, observant of penances, is in peace and happiness."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, Dhritarashtra answered king Yudhishthira, saying,--"O son, Vidura is well. He is performing austere penances, subsisting on air alone, for he abstains from all other food. He is emaciated and his arteries and nerves have become visible. Sometimes he is seen in this empty forest by Brahmanas." While Dhritarashtra was saying this Vidura was seen at a distance. He had matted locks on his head, and gravels in his mouth, and was exceedingly emaciated. He was perfectly naked. His body was besmeared all over with filth, and with the dust of various wild flowers. When Kshattri was beheld from a distance, the fact was reported to Yudhishthira. Vidura suddenly stopped, O king, casting his eyes towards the retreat (and seeing it peopled by so many individuals). King Yudhishthira pursued him alone, as he ran and entered the deep forest, sometimes not seen by the pursuer. He said aloud, "O Vidura, O Vidura, I am king Yudhishthira, thy favourite!"--Exclaiming thus, Yudhishthira, with great exertion, followed Vidura. That foremost of intelligent men, viz., Vidura, having reached a solitary spot in the forest, stood still, leaning against a tree. He was exceedingly emaciated. He retained only the shape of a human being (all his characteristic features having totally disappeared). Yudhishthira of great intelligence recognised him, however, (in spite of such change). Standing before him, Yudhishthira addressed him, saying, "I am Yudhishthira!" Indeed, worshipping Vidura properly, Yudhishthira said these words in the hearing of Vidura. Meanwhile Vidura eyed the king with a steadfast gaze. Casting his gaze thus on the king, he stood motionless in Yoga. Possessed of great intelligence, he then (by his Yoga-power) entered the body of Yudhishthira, limb by limb. He united his life-breaths with the king's life-breaths, and his senses with the king's senses. Verify, with the aid of Yoga-power, Vidura, blazing with energy, thus entered the body of king Yudhishthira the just. Meanwhile, the body of Vidura continued to lean against the tree, with eyes fixed in a steadfast gaze. The king soon saw that life had fled out of it. At the same time, he felt that he himself had become stronger than before and that he had acquired many additional virtues and accomplishments. Possessed of great learning and energy, O monarch, Pandu's son, king Yudhishthira the just, then recollected his own state before his birth among men.[42] Endued with mighty energy, he had heard of Yoga practice from Vyasa. King Yudhishthira the just, possessed of great learning, became desirous of doing the last rites to the body of Vidura, and wished to cremate it duly. An invisible voice was then heard,--saying,--"O king, this body that belonged to him called Vidura should not be cremated. In him is thy body also. He is the eternal deity of Righteousness. Those regions of felicity which are known by the name of Santanika will be his, O Bharata. He was an observer of the duties of Yatis. Thou shouldst not, O scorcher of foes, grieve for him at all." Thus addressed, king Yudhishthira the just, returned from that spot, and represented everything unto the royal son of Vichitraviryya. At this, that king of great splendour, all these men, and Bhimasena and others, became filled with wonder. Hearing what had happened, king Dhritarashtra became pleased and then, addressing the son of Dharma, said,--"Do thou accept from me these gifts of water and roots and fruits. It has been said, O king, that one's guest should take that which one takes oneself." Thus addressed, Dharma's son answered the king, saying,--"So be it." The mighty-armed king ate the fruits and roots which the monarch gave him. Then they all spread their beds under a tree and passed that night thus, having eaten fruits and roots and drunk the water that the old king had given them.'" SECTION XXVII "Vaisampayana said, 'They passed that night which was characterised by auspicious constellations even thus, O king, in that retreat of righteous ascetics. The conversation that occurred was characterised by many reflections on morality and wealth. Consisting of delightful and sweet words, it was graced with diverse citations from the Srutis. The Pandavas, O king, leaving costly beds, laid themselves down, near their mother, on the bare ground. Indeed, those heroes passed that night, having eaten the food which was the food of the high-souled king Dhritarashtra. After the night had passed away, king Yudhishthira, having gone through his morning acts, proceeded to survey that retreat in the company of his brothers. With the ladies of his household, the servants, and his priest, the king roved about the retreat in all directions, as he pleased, at the command of Dhritarashtra. He beheld many sacrificial altars with sacred fires blazing on them and with many ascetics seated on them, that had performed their oblations and poured libations in honour of the deities. Those altars were overspread with fruits and roots of the forest, and with heaps of flowers. The smoke of clarified butter curled upwards from them. They were graced, besides, with many ascetics possessed of bodies that looked like the embodied Vedas and with many that belonged to the lay brotherhood. Herds of deer were grazing, or resting here and there, freed from every fear. Innumerable birds also were there, engaged in uttering their melodious notes, O king. The whole forest seemed to resound with the notes of peacocks and Datyuhas and Kokilas and the sweet songs of other warblers.[43] Some spots echoed with the chant of Vedic hymns recited by learned Brahmanas. Some were adorned with large heaps of fruits and roots gathered from the wilderness. King Yudhishthira then gave those ascetics jars made of gold or copper which he had brought for them, and many deer-skins and blankets and sacrificial ladles made of wood, and Kamandalus and wooden platters, and pots and pans, O Bharata.[44] Diverse kinds of vessels, made of iron, and smaller vessels and cups of various sizes, were also given away by the king, the ascetics taking them away, each as many as he liked. King Yudhishthira of righteous soul, having thus roved through the woods and beheld the diverse retreats of ascetics and made many gifts, returned to the place where his uncle was. He saw king Dhritarashtra, that lord of Earth, at his ease, with Gandhari beside him, after having finished his morning rites. The righteous-souled monarch saw also his mother, Kunti, seated not much remote from that place, like a disciple with bent head, endued with humility. He saluted the old king, proclaiming his name. "Sit down" were the words the old king said. Receiving Dhritarashtra's permission, Yudhishthira sat himself down on a mat of Kusa grass. Then the other sons of Pandu with Bhima among them, O thou of Bharata's race, saluted the king and touched his feet and sat themselves down, receiving his permission. The old Kuru king, surrounded by them, looked exceedingly beautiful. Indeed, he blazed with a Vedic splendour like Vrihaspati in the midst of the celestials. After they had sat themselves down, many great Rishis, viz., Satayupa and others, who were denizens of Kurukshetra, came there. The illustrious and learned Vyasa, possessed of great energy, and reverenced by even the celestial Rishis, showed himself, at the head of his numerous disciples, unto Yudhishthira. The Kuru king Dhritarashtra, Kunti's son Yudhishthira of great energy, and Bhimasena and others, stood up and advancing a few steps, saluted those guests. Approaching near, Vyasa, surrounded by Satayupa and others, addressed king Dhritarashtra, saying,--"Be thou seated." The illustrious Vyasa then took an excellent seat made of Kusa grass placed upon a black deer-skin and covered with a piece of silken cloth. They had reserved that seat for him. After Vyasa had been seated, all those foremost of regenerate persons, endued with abundant energy, sat themselves down, having received the permission of the Island-born sage.'" SECTION XXVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'After the high-souled Pandavas had all been seated, Satyavati's son Vyasa said,--"O Dhritarashtra of mighty arms, hast thou been able to achieve penances? Is thy mind, O king, pleased with thy residence in the woods? Has the grief that was thine, born of the slaughter of thy sons in battle, disappeared from thy heart? Are all thy perceptions, O sinless one, now clear? Dost thou practise the ordinances of forest life after having made thy heart firm? Does my daughter-in-law, Gandhari, allow herself to be overwhelmed by grief? She is possessed of great wisdom. Endued with intelligence, that queen understands both Religion and Wealth. She is well conversant with the truths that relate to both prosperity and adversity. Does she still grieve? Does Kunti, O king, who in consequence of her devotion to the service of her seniors, left her children, attend to thy wants and serve thee with all humility? Have the high-minded and high-souled king, Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma and Bhima and Arjuna and the twins been sufficiently comforted? Dost thou feel delight at seeing them? Has thy mind become freed from every stain? Has thy disposition, O king, become pure in consequence of the increase of thy knowledge? This aggregate of three, O king, is the foremost of all concerns, O Bharata, viz., abstension from injury to any creature, truth, and freedom from anger. Does thy forest life any longer prove painful to thee? Art thou able to earn with thy own exertions the products of the wilderness for thy food? Do fasts give thee any pain now? Hast thou learnt, O king, how the high-souled Vidura, who was Dharma's self, left this world? Through the curse of Mandavya, the deity of Righteousness became born as Vidura. He was possessed of great intelligence. Endued with high penances, he was high-souled and high-minded. Even Vrihaspati among the celestials, and Sukra among the Asuras, was not possessed of such intelligence as that foremost of persons. The eternal deity of Righteousness was stupefied by the Rishi Mandavya with an expenditure of his penances earned for a long time with great care.[45] At the command of the Grandsire, and through my own energy, Vidura of great intelligence was procreated by me upon a soil owned by Vichitraviryya. A deity of deities, and eternal, he was, O king, thy brother. The learned know him to be Dharma in consequence of his practices of Dharana and Dhyana.[46] He grows with (the growth of) truth, self-restraint, tranquillity of heart, compassion, and gifts. He is always engaged in penances, and is eternal. From that deity of Righteousness, through Yoga-puissance, the Kuru king Yudhishthira also took his birth. Yudhishthira, therefore, O king, is Dharma of great wisdom and immeasurable intelligence. Dharma exists both here and hereafter, and is like fire or wind or water or earth or space. He is, O king of kings, capable of going everywhere and exists, pervading the whole universe. He is capable of being beheld by only those that are the foremost of the deities and those that are cleansed of every sin and crowned with ascetic success. He that is Dharma is Vidura; and he that is Vidura is the (eldest) son of Pandu. That son of Pandu. O king, is capable of being perceived by thee. He stays before thee as thy servitor. Endued with great Yoga-puissance, thy high-souled brother, that foremost of intelligent men, seeing the high-souled Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, has entered into his person. These also, O chief of Bharata's race, I shall unite with great benefit. Know, O son, that I am come here for dispelling thy doubts. Some feat that has never been accomplished before by any of the great Rishis, some wonderful effect of my penances,--I shall show thee. What object is that, O king, whose accomplishment thou desirest from me? Tell me what is that which thou wishest to see or ask or hear? O sinless one, I shall accomplish it."'" SECTION XXIX (Putradarsana Parva) "Janamejaya said, 'Tell me. O learned Brahmana, what that wonderful feat was which the great Rishi Vyasa of high energy accomplished after his promise to the old king, made when Dhritarashtra, that lord of Earth, that foremost one of Kuru's race, had taken up his abode in the forest, with his wife and with his daughter-in-law Kunti; and after, indeed, Vidura had left his own body and entered into Yudhishthira, and at the time when all the sons of Pandu were staying in the ascetic retreat. For how many days did the Kuru king Yudhishthira of unfading glory stay, with his men, in the woods? On what food, O puissant one, did the high-souled Pandavas support themselves, with their men, and wives, while they lived in the woods? O sinless one, do thou tell me this.' "Vaisampayana said, 'With the permission of the Kuru king, the Pandavas, O monarch, with their troops and the ladies of their household, supported themselves on diverse kinds of food and drink and passed about a month in great happiness in that forest. Towards the close of that period, O sinless one, Vyasa came there. While all those princes sat around Vyasa, engaged in conversation on diverse subjects, other Rishis came to that spot. They were Narada, and Parvata and Devala of austere penances, and Viswavasu and Tumvuru, and Chitrasena, O Bharata. Endued with severe penances, the Kuru king Yudhishthira, with the permission of Dhritarashtra, worshipped them according to due rites. Having obtained that worship from Yudhishthira, all of them sat down on sacred seats (made of Kusa grass), as also on excellent seats made of peacock feathers. After they had all taken their seats, the Kuru king of high intelligence took his seat there, surrounded by the sons of Pandu. Gandhari and Kunti and Draupadi, and she of the Sattwata race, and other ladies of the royal household also sat down. The conversation that then arose was excellent and had reference to topics connected with piety, and the Rishis of old, and the deities and the Asuras. At the close of that conversation Vyasa of great energy, that foremost of eloquent men, that first of all persons conversant with the Vedas, highly gratified, addressed the blind monarch and once more said,--"Burning as thou art with grief on account of thy children, I know, O king of kings, what object is cherished by thee in thy heart. The sorrow that always exists in the heart of Gandhari, that which exists in the heart of Kunti, and that also which is cherished by Draupadi in her heart, and that burning grief, on account of the death of her son, which Krishna's sister Subhadra also cherishes, are all known to me. Hearing of this meeting, O king, of thine with all these princes and princesses of thy house, I have come here, O delighter of the Kauravas, for dispelling thy doubts. Let the deities and Gandharvas, and all these great Rishis, behold today the energy of those penances which I have acquired for these long years. Therefore, O king, tell me what wish of thine I shall grant today. I am puissant enough to grant thee a boon. Behold the fruit of my penances." Thus addressed by Vyasa of immeasurable understanding, king Dhritarashtra reflected for a moment and then prepared to speak. He said,--"I am exceedingly fortunate. Lucky am I in obtaining thy favour. My life is crowned with success today,--since this meeting has happened between me and ye all of great piety. Today I shall attain to that highly happy goal which is reserved for me, since, ye ascetics endued with wealth of penances, ye who are equal to Brahma himself, I have succeeded in obtaining this meeting with you all. There is not the least doubt that this sight that I have obtained of you all has cleansed me of every sin. Ye sinless ones, I have no longer any fear in respect of my end in the next world. Full as I am of love for my children, I always cherish their remembrance. My mind, however, is always tortured by the recollection of the diverse acts of wrong which my wicked son of exceedingly evil understanding perpetrated. Possessed of a sinful understanding, he always persecuted the innocent Pandavas. Alas, the whole Earth has been devastated by him, with her steeds, elephants and men. Many high-souled kings, rulers of diverse realms, came for siding with my son and succumbed to death. Alas, leaving their beloved sires and wives and their very life-breaths, all those heroes have become guests of the king of the dead. What end, O regenerate one, has been attained by those men who have been slain, for the sake of their friend, in battle? What end also has been attained by my sons and grandsons who have fallen in the fray? My heart is always pained at the thought of my having brought about the slaughter of the mighty Bhishma, the son of Santanu, and of Drona, that foremost of Brahmanas, through my foolish and sinful son who was an injurer of his friends. Desirous of obtaining the sovereignty of the Earth, he caused the Kuru race, blazing with prosperity, to be annihilated. Reflecting on all this, I burn day and night with grief. Deeply afflicted with pain and grief, I am unable to obtain peace of mind. Indeed, O father, thinking of all this, I have no peace of mind."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these lamentations expressed in diverse ways, of that royal sage, the grief, O Janamejaya, of Gandhari, became fresh. The grief also of Kunti, of the daughter of Drupada, of Subhadra, and of the other members, male and female, and the daughters-in-law, of the Kuru race, became equally green. Queen Gandhari, with bandaged eyes, joining her hands, addressed her father-in-law. Deeply afflicted with grief on account of the slaughter of her sons, she said,--"O foremost of ascetics, sixteen years have passed over the head of this king grieving for the death of his sons and divested of peace of mind. Afflicted with grief on account of the slaughter of his children, this king Dhritarashtra, always breathes heavily, and never sleeps at night. O great Rishi, through the power of thy penances thou art competent to create new worlds. What need I say then about showing this king his children who are now in the other world? This Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, hath lost all her kinsmen and children. For this, she who is the dearest of my daughters-in-law grieves exceedingly. The sister of Krishna, viz., Subhadra of sweet speech, burning with the loss of her son, grieves as deeply. This lady that is respected by all, that is the wife of Bhurisravas, afflicted with grief on account of the fate that has overtaken her husband, always indulges in heart-rending lamentations. Her father-in-law was the intelligent Valhika of Kuru's race. Alas, Somadatta also was slain, along with his sire, in the great battle![47] Alas, a century of sons, heroes that never retreated from battle, belonging to this son of thine, this king of great intelligence and great prosperity, has been slain in battle. The hundred wives of those sons are all grieving and repeatedly enhancing the grief of both the king and myself. O great ascetic, stricken by that great slaughter, they have gathered round me. Alas, those high-souled heroes, those great car warriors, my fathers-in-law, Somadatta and others,--alas, what end has been theirs, O puissant one? Through thy grace, O holy one, that will happen in consequence of which this lord of Earth, myself, and this daughter-in-law of thine, viz., Kunti, shall all become freed from our grief." After Gandhari had said so, Kunti, whose face had become wasted through observance of many hard vows, began to think of her secret-born son endued with solar effulgence. The boon-giving Rishi Vyasa, capable of both beholding and hearing what happened at a remote distance, saw that the royal mother of Arjuna was afflicted with grief. Unto her Vyasa said,--"Tell me, O blessed one, what is in thy mind. Tell me what thou wishest to say." At this, Kunti, bending her head unto her father-in-law, and overcome with bashfulness, said these words unto him, relating to the occurrences of the past.'" SECTION XXX "'Kunti said, "O holy one, thou art my father-in-law and therefore, my deity of deities. Verily, thou art my god of gods. Hear my words of truth. An ascetic named Durvasas, who is of the regenerate order and who is full of wrath, came to my father's house for eleemosynary charity. I succeeded in gratifying him by the purity of my external behaviour and of my mind, as also by refusing to notice the many wrongs he did. I did not give way to wrath although there was much in his behaviour quite capable of exciting that passion. Served with care, the great ascetic became highly pleased with me and disposed to grant me a boon. 'Thou must accept the boon I shall give,' were his words to me. Fearing his curse, I answered him, saying,--'So be it.' The regenerate Rishi once more said unto me,--'O blessed damsel, O thou of beautiful face, thou wilt become the mother of Dharma. Those deities whom thou wilt summon will be obedient to thee.' Having said those words, the regenerate one vanished away from my sight. I became filled with wonder. The mantra, however, which the Rishi gave has dwelt in my memory at all times. One day, sitting within my chamber I beheld the sun rising. Desiring to bring the maker of day before me, I recollected the words of the Rishi. Without any consciousness of the fault I committed, I summoned the deity from mere girlishness. The deity, however, of a thousand rays, (summoned by me) came to my presence. He divided himself in twain. With one portion he was in the firmament, and with the other he stood on the Earth before me. With one he heated the worlds and with another he came to me. He told me, while I was trembling at his sight, these words,--'Do thou ask a boon of me.' Bowing unto him with my head, I asked him to leave me. He replied unto me, saying,--'I cannot bear the idea of coming to thee fruitlessly. I shall consume thee as also that Brahmana who gave thee the Mantra as a boon.' The Brahmana who had done no evil--I wished to protect from Surya's curse. I therefore, said--'Let me have a son like thee, O god.' The deity of thousand rays then penetrated me with his energy and stupefied me completely. He then said unto me,--'Thou wilt have a son,' and then went back to the firmament. I continued to live in the inner apartments and desirous of saving the honour of my sire, I cast into the waters my infant son named Karna who thus came into the world secretly. Without doubt, through the grace of that god, I once more became a virgin, O regenerate one, even as the Rishi Durvasas had said unto me. Foolish that I am, although he knew me for his mother when he grew up, I yet made no effort to acknowledge him. This burns me, O regenerate Rishi, as is well-known to thee. Whether it is sinful or not so, I have told thee truth. It behoveth thee, O holy one, to gratify the craving I feel for beholding that son of mine. O foremost of ascetics, let this king also, O sinless one, obtain the fruition today of that wish of his which he cherishes in his bosom and which has become known to thee." Thus addressed by Kunti, Vyasa, that foremost of all persons, said unto her in reply,--"Blessed be thou; all that thou hast said unto me will happen. (As regards the birth of Karna) no fault is ascribable to thee. Thou wert restored to virginity. The deities are possessed of (Yoga) puissance. They are able to penetrate human bodies.[48] There are deities. They beget (offspring) by thought alone. By word, by sight, by touch, and by sexual union, also, they beget children. These are the five methods. Thou belongest to the order of humanity. Thou hast no fault (in what happened). Know this, O Kunti. Let the fever of thy heart be dispelled. For those that are mighty, everything is becoming. For those that are mighty, everything is pure. For those that are mighty, everything is meritorious. For those that are mighty, everything is their own."'" SECTION XXXI "'Vyasa said, "Blessed be thou, O Gandhari, thou shalt behold thy sons and brothers and friends and kinsmen along with thy sires this night like men risen from sleep. Kunti also shall behold Karna, and she of Yadu's race shall behold her son Abhimanyu. Draupadi shall behold her five sons, her sires, and her brothers also. Even before ye had asked me, this was the thought in my mind. I entertained this purpose when I was urged to that effect by the king, by thee, O Gandhari, and by Kunti. Thou shouldst not grieve for those foremost of men. They met with death in consequence of their devotion to the established practices of Kshatriyas. O faultless one, the work of the gods could not but be accomplished. It was for accomplishing that object that those heroes came down on Earth. They were all portions of the deities. Gandharvas and Apsaras, and Pisachas and Guhyakas and Rakshasas, many persons of great sanctity, many individuals crowned with success (of penances), celestial Rishis, deities and Danavas and heavenly Rishis of spotless character, met with death on the battle-field of Kurukshetra.[49] It is heard that he that was the intelligent king of the Gandharvas, and named Dhritarashtra, took birth in the world of men as thy lord Dhritarashtra. Know that Pandu of unfading glory and distinguished above all others, sprung from the Maruts. Kshattri and Yudhishthira are both portions of the deity of Righteousness. Know that Duryodhana was Kali, and Sakuni was Dwapara. O thou of good features, know that Dussasana and others were all Rakshasas. Bhimasena of great might, that chastiser of foes, is from the Maruts. Know that this Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, is the ancient Rishi Nara. Hrishikesa is Narayana, and the twins are the Aswins. The foremost of heat-giving ones, viz., Surya, having divided his body in twain, continued with one portion to give heat to the worlds and with another to live (on Earth.) as Karna. He that took his birth as the son of Arjuna, that gladdener of all, that heir to the possessions of the Pandavas, who was slain by six great car-warriors (fighting together), was Soma. He was born of Subhadra. Through Yoga-puissance he had divided himself in twain. Dhrishtadyumna who sprung with Draupadi from the sacrificial fire, was an auspicious portion of the deity of fire. Sikhandin was a Rakshasa. Know that Drona was a portion of Vrihaspati, and that Drona's son is born of a portion of Rudra. Know that Ganga's son Bhishma was one of the Vasus that became born as a human being. Thus, O thou of great wisdom, the deities had taken birth as human beings, and after having accomplished their purposes have gone back to Heaven. That sorrow which is in the hearts of you all, relating to the return of these to the other world, I shall today dispel. Do you all go towards the Bhagirathi.--You will then behold all those that have been slain on the field of battle."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'All the persons there present, having heard the words of Vyasa, raised a loud leonine shout and then proceeded towards the Bhagirathi. Dhritarashtra with all his ministers and the Pandavas, as also with all those foremost of Rishis and Gandharvas that had come there, set out as directed. Arrived at the banks of Ganga, that sea of men took up their abode as pleased them. The king possessed of great intelligence, with the Pandavas, took up his abode in a desirable spot, along with the ladies and the aged ones of his household. They passed that day as if it were a whole year, waiting for the advent of the night when they would behold the deceased princes. The Sun then reached the sacred mountain in the west and all those persons, having bathed in the sacred stream, finished their evening rites.'" SECTION XXXII "Vaisampayana said, 'When night came, all those persons, having finished their evening rites, approached Vyasa. Dhritarashtra of righteous soul, with purified body and with mind solely directed towards it, sat there with the Pandavas and the Rishis in his company. The ladies of the royal household sat with Gandhari in a secluded spot. All the citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces ranged themselves according to their years. Then the great ascetic, Vyasa, of mighty energy, bathing in the sacred waters of the Bhagirathi, summoned all the deceased warriors, viz., those that had fought on the side of the Pandavas, those that had fought for the Kauravas, including highly blessed kings belonging to diverse realms. At this, O Janamejaya, a deafening uproar was heard to arise from within the waters, resembling that which had formerly been heard of the forces of the Kurus and the Pandavas. Then those kings, headed by Bhishma and Drona, with all their troops, arose by thousands from the waters of the Bhagirathi. There were Virata and Drupada, with their sons and forces. There were the sons of Draupadi and the son of Subhadra, and the Rakshasa Ghatotkacha. There were Karna and Duryodhana, and the mighty car-warrior Sakuni, and the other children, endued with great strength, of Dhritarashtra, headed by Dussasana. There were the son of Jarasandha, and Bhagadatta, and Jalasandha of great energy, and Bhurisravas, and Sala, and Salya, and Vrishasena with his younger brother. There were prince Lakshmana (the son of Duryodhana), and the son of Dhrishtadyumna, and all the children of Sikhandin, and Dhrishtaketu, with his younger brother. There were Achala and Vrishaka, and the Rakshasa Alayudha, and Valhika, and Somadatta, and king Chekitana. These and many others, who for their number cannot be conveniently named, appeared on that occasion. All of them rose from the waters of the Bhagirathi, with resplendent bodies. Those kings appeared, each clad in that dress and equipt with that standard and that vehicle which he had while fighting on the field. All of them were now robed in celestial vestments and all had brilliant ear-rings. They were free from all animosity and pride, and divested of wrath and jealousy. Gandharvas sang their praises, and bards waited on them, chanting their deeds. Robed in celestial vestments and wearing celestial garlands, each of them was waited upon by bands of Apsaras. At that time, through the puissance of his penances, the great ascetic, the son of Satyavati, gratified with Dhritarashtra, gave him celestial vision. Endued with celestial knowledge and strength, Gandhari of great fame saw all her children as also all that had been slain in battle. All persons assembled there beheld with steadfast gaze and hearts filled with wonder that amazing and inconceivable phenomenon which made the hair on their bodies stand on its end. It looked like a high carnival of gladdened men and women. That wondrous scene looked like a picture painted on the canvas. Dhritarashtra, beholding all those heroes, with his celestial vision obtained through the grace of that sage, became full of joy, O chief of Bharata's race.'" SECTION XXXIII "Vaisampayana said. 'Then those foremost of men divested of wrath and jealousy, and cleansed of every sin, met with one another, agreeably to those high and auspicious ordinances that have been laid down by regenerate Rishis. All of them were happy of hearts and looked like gods moving in Heaven. Son met with sire or mother, wives with husbands, brother with brother, and friend with friend, O king. The Pandavas, full of joy, met with the mighty bowman Karna as also with the son of Subhadra, and the children of Draupadi. With happy hearts the sons of Pandu approached Karna, O monarch, and became reconciled with him. All those warriors, O chief of Bharata's race, meeting with one another through the grace of the great ascetic, became reconciled with one another. Casting off all unfriendliness, they became established on amity and peace. It was even thus that all those foremost of men, viz., the Kauravas and other kings became united with the Kurus and other kinsmen of theirs as also with their children. The whole of that night they passed in great happiness. Indeed, the Kshatriya warriors, in consequence of the happiness they felt, regarded that place as Heaven itself. There was no grief, no fear, no suspicion, no discontent, no reproach in that region, as those warriors, O monarch, met with one another on that night. Meeting with their sires and brothers and husbands and sons, the ladies cast off all grief and felt great raptures of delight. Having sported with one another thus for one night, those heroes and those ladies, embracing one another and taking one another's leave returned to the places they had come from. Indeed, that foremost of ascetics dismissed that concourse of warriors. Within the twinkling of an eye that large crowd disappeared in the very sight of all those (living) persons. Those high-souled persons, plunging into the sacred river Bhagirathi proceeded, with their cars and standards, to their respective abodes. Some went to the regions of the gods, some to the region of Brahman, some to the region of Varuna, and some to the region of Kuvera. Some among those kings proceeded to the region of Surya. Amongst the Rakshasas and Pisachas some proceeded to the country of Uttara-Kurus. Others, moving in delightful attitudes, went in the company of the deities. Even thus did all those high-souled persons disappear with their vehicles and animals and with all their followers. After all of them had gone away, the great sage, who was standing in the waters of the sacred stream viz., Vyasa of great righteousness and energy, that benefactor of the Kurus, then addressed those Kshatriya ladies who had become widows, and said these words, "Let those amongst these foremost of women that are desirous of attaining to the regions acquired by their husbands cast away all sloth and quickly plunge into the sacred Bhagirathi."--Hearing these words of his, those foremost ladies, placing faith in them, took the permission of their father-in-law, and then plunged into the waters of the Bhagirathi. Freed from human bodies, those chaste ladies then proceeded, O king, with their husbands to the regions acquired by the latter. Even thus, those ladies of virtuous conduct, devoted to their husbands, entering the waters of the Bhagirathi, became freed from their mortal tenements and attained to the companionship of their husbands in the regions acquired by them. Endued with celestial forms, and adorned with celestial ornaments, and wearing celestial vestments and garlands, they proceeded to those regions where their husbands had found their abodes. Possessed of excellent behaviour and many virtues, their anxieties all dispelled, they were seen to ride on excellent cars, and endued with every accomplishment they found those regions of happiness which were theirs by right. Devoted to the duties of piety, Vyasa, at that time, becoming a giver of boons, granted unto all the men there assembled the fruition of the wishes they respectively cherished. People of diverse realms, hearing of this meeting between the hallowed dead and living human beings, became highly delighted. That man who duly listens to this narrative meets with everything that is dear to him. Indeed, he obtains all agreeable objects both here and hereafter. That man of learning and science, that foremost of righteous persons, who recites this narrative for the hearing of others acquires great fame here and an auspicious end hereafter, as also a union with kinsmen and all desirable objects. Such a man has not to undergo painful labour for his sustenance, and meets with all sorts of auspicious objects in life. Even these are the rewards reaped by a person who, endued with devotion to Vedic studies and with penances, recites this narrative in the hearing of others. Those persons who possessed of good conduct, devoted to self-restraint, cleansed of all sins by the gifts they make, endued with sincerity, having tranquil souls, freed from falsehood and the desire of injuring others, adorned with faith, belief in the scriptures, and intelligence, listen to this wonderful parvan, surely attain to the highest goal hereafter.'" SECTION XXXIV Sauti said, "Hearing this story of the re-appearance and departure of his forefathers, king Janamejaya of great intelligence became highly pleased. Filled with joy, he once more questioned Vaisampayana on the subject of the reappearance of dead men, saying,--'How is it possible for persons whose bodies have been destroyed to re-appear in those very forms?' Thus asked, that foremost of regenerate persons, viz., the disciple of Vyasa, that first of speakers, possessed of great energy, thus answered Janamejaya. "Vaisampayana said, 'This is certain, viz., that acts are never destroyed (without their consequences being enjoyed or endured). Bodies, O king, are born of acts; so also are features. The great primal elements are eternal (indestructible) in consequence of the union with them of the Lord of all beings. They exist with what is eternal. Accordingly, they have no destruction when the non-eternal are destroyed. Acts done without exertion are true and foremost, and bear real fruit. The soul, united however with such acts as require exertion for their accomplishment, enjoys pleasure and pain.[50] Though united so (that is, with pleasure and pain), yet it is a certain inference that the soul is never modified by them, like the reflection of creatures in a mirror. It is never destroyed.[51] As long as one's acts are not exhausted (by enjoyment or endurance of their fruits good and bad), so long does one regard the body to be oneself. The man, however, whose acts have been exhausted, without regarding the body to be self, takes the self to be something otherwise.[52] Diverse existent objects (such as the primal elements and the senses, etc.) attaining to a body, become united as one. To men of knowledge who understand the difference (between the body and self), those very objects become eternal.[53] In the Horse-sacrifice, this Sruti is heard in the matter of the slaying of the horse. Those which are the certain possessions of embodied creatures, viz., their life-breaths (and the senses, etc.), exist eternally even when they are borne to the other world. I shall tell thee what is beneficial, if it be agreeable to thee, O king. Thou hast, while employed in thy sacrifices, heard of the paths of the deities. When preparations were made for any sacrifice of thine, the deities became beneficially inclined to thee. When indeed, the deities were thus disposed and came to thy sacrifices, they were lords in the matter of the passage (from this to the next world) of the animals slain.[54] For this reason, the eternal ones (viz., Jivas), by adoring the deities in sacrifices, succeed in attaining to excellent goals. When the five primal elements are eternal, when the soul also is eternal, he called Purusha (viz., the soul invested with case) is equally so. When such is the case, he who beholds a creature as disposed to take diverse forms, is regarded as having an erroneous understanding. He who indulges in too much grief at separation is, I think, a foolish person. He who sees evil in separation should abandon union. By standing aloof, no unions are formed, and sorrow is cast off, for sorrow in the world is born of separation.[55] Only he who understands the distinction between body and self, and not another, becomes freed from the erroneous conviction. He that knows the other (viz., self) attains to the highest understanding and becomes freed from error.[56] As regards creatures. they appear from an invisible state, and once more disappear into invisibleness. I do not know him. He also does not know me. As regards myself, renunciation is not yet mine.[57] He that is not possessed of puissance enjoys or endures the fruits of all his acts in those too dies in which he does them. If the act be a mental one, its consequences are enjoyed or endured mentally; if it be done with the body, its consequences are to be enjoyed or endured in the body.'"[58] SECTION XXXV "Vaisampayana said, 'King Dhritarashtra had never beheld his own sons. Obtaining eye-sight through the grace of the Rishi, he beheld, for the first time, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, those children of his that were very like his own self. That foremost of men, viz., the Kuru monarch, had learnt all the duties of kings, as also the Vedas and the Upanishads, and had acquired certitude of understanding (from the same source). Vidura of great wisdom attained to high success through the power of his penances. Dhritarashtra also attained to great success in consequence of having met the ascetic Vyasa.' "Janamejaya said, 'If Vyasa, disposed to grant me a boon, kindly show me my sire in that form which he had, clad as he used to be clad, and as old as he was when he departed from this world, I may then believe all that thou hast told me. Such a sight will be most agreeable to me. Indeed, I shall regard myself crowned with success. I shall have gained a certainty of conclusion. O, let my wish be crowned with fruition through the grace of that foremost of Rishis.'" Sauti said,--"After king Janamejaya had said these words, Vyasa of great energy and intelligence showed his grace and brought Parikshit (from the other world). King Janamejaya beheld his royal father, possessed of great beauty, brought down from Heaven, in the same form that he had and of the same age as he was (at the time of leaving this world). The high-souled Samika also, and his son Sringin, were similarly brought there. All the counsellors and ministers of the king beheld them. King Janamejaya. performing the final bath in his sacrifice, became highly glad. He poured the sacred water on his father, even as he caused it to be poured on himself. Having undergone the final bath, the king addressed the regenerate Astika who had sprung from the race of the Yayavaras and who was the son of Jaratkaru, and said these words,--'O Astika, this sacrifice of mine is fraught with many wonderful incidents, since this my sire has been seen by me--he who has dispelled all my sorrows.' "Astika said, 'The performer of that sacrifice in which the ancient Rishi, the Island-born Vyasa, that vast receptacle of penances, is present, is sure, O foremost one of Kuru's race, to conquer both the worlds. O son of the Pandavas, thou hast heard a wonderful history. The snakes have been consumed into ashes and have followed the footsteps of thy sire. Through thy truthfulness, O monarch, Takshaka has with difficulty escaped a painful fate. The Rishis have all been worshipped. Thou hast seen also the end that has been attained by thy high-souled sire. Having heard this sin-cleansing history thou hast achieved abundant merit. The knots of thy heart have been untied through sight of this foremost of person. They that are the supporters of the wings of Righteousness, they that are of good conduct and excellent disposition, they at sight of whom sins become attenuated,--we should all bow to them.'" Sauti continued, "Having heard this from that foremost of regenerate ones, King Janamejaya worshipped that Rishi, repeatedly honouring him in every way. Conversant with all duties he then asked the Rishi Vaisampayana of unfading glory about the sequel, O best of ascetics, of king Dhritarashtra's residence in the woods." SECTION XXXVI "Janamejaya said, 'Having seen his sons and grandsons with all their friends and followers, what, indeed, did that ruler of men, viz., Dhritarashtra, and king Yudhishthira also, do?' "Vaisampayana said, 'Beholding that exceedingly wonderful sight, viz., the re-appearance of his children, the royal sage, Dhritarashtra, became divested of his grief and returned (from the banks of the Bhagirathi) to his retreat. The common people and all the great Rishis, dismissed by Dhritarashtra, returned to the places they respectively wished. The high-souled Pandavas, accompanied by their wives, and with a small retinue, went to the retreat of the high-souled monarch. Then Satyavati's son, who was honoured by regenerate Rishis and all other persons, arrived at the retreat, addressed Dhritarashtra, saying,--"O mighty-armed Dhritarashtra, O son of Kuru's race, listen to what I say. Thou hast heard diverse discourses from Rishis of great knowledge and sacred deeds, of wealth of penances and excellence of blood, of conversance with the Vedas and their branches, of piety and years, and of great eloquence. Do not set thy mind again on sorrow. He that is possessed of wisdom is never agitated at ill luck. Thou hast also heard the mysteries of the deities from Narada of celestial form. Thy children have all attained, through observance of Kshatriya practices, to that auspicious goal which is sanctified by weapons. Thou hast seen how they move about at will in great happiness. This Yudhishthira of great intelligence is awaiting thy permission, with all his brothers and wives and kinsmen. Do thou dismiss him. Let him go back to his kingdom and rule it. They have passed more than a month in thus residing in the woods. The station of sovereignty should always be well guarded. O king, O thou of Kuru's race, [thy] kingdom has many foes." Thus addressed by Vyasa of incomparable energy, the Kuru king, well-versed in words, summoned Yudhishthira and said unto him,--"O Ajatasatru, blessings on thee! Do thou listen to me, with all thy brothers. Through thy grace, O king, grief no longer stands in my way. I am living as happily, O son, with thee here as if I were in the city called after the elephant. With thee as my protector, O learned one, I am enjoying all agreeable objects. I have obtained from thee all those services which a son renders to his sire. I am highly gratified with thee. I have not the least dissatisfaction with thee, O mighty-armed one. Go now, O son, without tarrying here any longer. Meeting with thee, my penances are being slackened. This my body, endued with penances, I have been able to sustain only in consequence of my meeting with thee.[59] These two mothers of thine, subsisting now upon fallen leaves of trees, and observing vows similar to mine, will not live long. Duryodhana and others, who have become denizens of the other world, have been seen by us, through the puissance of Vyasa's penances and through (the merit of) this my meeting with thee. O sinless one, the purpose of my life has been attained. I now wish to set myself to the practice of the austerest of penances. It behoveth thee to grant me permission. On thee now the obsequial cake, the fame and achievements, and the race of our ancestors, rest. O mighty-armed one, do thou then depart either tomorrow or this very day. Do not tarry, O son. O chief of Bharata's race, thou hast repeatedly heard what the duties are of kings. I do not see what more I can say unto thee. I have no longer any need with thee, O thou of great puissance."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Unto the (old) monarch who said so, king Yudhishthira replied,--"O thou that art conversant with every rule of righteousness, it behoveth thee, not to cast me off in this way. I am guilty of no fault. Let all my brothers and followers depart as they like. With steadfast vows I shall wait upon thee and upon these two mothers of mine." Unto him Gandhari then said,--"O son, let it not be so. Listen, the race of Kuru is now dependant on thee. The obsequial cake also of my father-in-law depends on thee. Depart then, O son. We have been sufficiently honoured and served by thee. Thou shouldst do what the king says. Indeed, O son, thou shouldst obey the behests of thy sire."' "Vaisampayana continued,--'Thus addressed by Gandhari, King Yudhishthira, rubbing his eyes which were bathed in tears of affection, said these words of lament. "The king casts me off, as also Gandhari of great fame. My heart, however, is bound to thee. How shall I, filled as I am with grief, leave thee? I do not, however, at the same time, venture to obstruct thy penances, O righteous lady. There is nothing higher than penances. It is by penances that one attains to the Supreme. O queen, my heart no longer turns as of old towards kingdom. My mind is wholly set upon penances now. The whole Earth is empty now. O auspicious lady, she does not please me any longer. Our kinsmen have been reduced in number. Our strength is no longer what it was before. The Panchalas have been wholly exterminated. They exist in name only. O auspicious lady, I do not behold any one that may assist as their re-establishment and growth. All of them have been consumed to ashes by Drona on the field of battle. Those that remained were slain by Drona's son at night. The Chedis and the Matsyas, who were our friends, no longer exist. Only the tribes of the Vrishnis are all that remain, Vasudeva having upheld them. Beholding only the Vrishnis I wish to live. My desire of life, however, is due to my wish of acquiring merit and not wealth or enjoyment. Do thou cast auspicious looks upon us all. To obtain thy sight will be difficult for us. The king will commence to practise the most austere and unbearable of penances." Hearing these words, that lord of battle, the mighty-armed Sahadeva, with eyes bathed in tears, addressed Yudhishthira, saying,--"O chief of Bharata's race, I dare not leave my mother. Do thou return to the capital soon. I shall practise penances, O puissant one. Even here I shall emaciate my body by penances, engaged in serving the feet of the king and of these my mothers." Unto that mighty-armed hero, Kunti, after an embrace, said--"Depart, O son. Do not say so. Do my bidding. Do all of you go hence. Let peace be yours. Ye sons, let happiness be yours. By your stay here, our penances will be obstructed. Bound by the ties of my affection for thee, I shall fall off from my high penances. Therefore, O son, leave us. Short is the period that we have of life, O thou of great puissance." By these and diverse other speeches of Kunti, the minds of Sahadeva and king Yudhishthira were composed. Those foremost ones of Kuru's race, having received the permission of their mother as also of the (old) monarch, saluted the latter and began to take his leave. "'Yudhishthira said, "Gladdened by auspicious blessings, we shall return to the capital. Indeed, O king, having received thy permission, we shall leave this retreat, freed from every sin." Thus addressed by the high-souled king Yudhishthira the just, that royal sage, viz., Dhritarashtra, blessed Yudhishthira and gave him permission. The king comforted Bhima, that foremost of all persons endued with great strength. Endued with great energy and great intelligence, Bhima showed his submissiveness to the king. Embracing Arjuna and clasping those foremost of men, viz., the twins also, and blessing them repeatedly, the Kuru king gave them permission to depart. They worshipped the feet of Gandhari and received her blessings also. Their mother Kunti then smelt their heads, and dismissed them. They then circumambulated the king like calves, when prevented from sucking their dams. Indeed, they repeatedly walked round him, looking steadfastly at him.[60] Then all the ladies of the Kaurava household, headed by Draupadi, worshipped their father-in-law according to the rites laid down in the scriptures, and took his leave. Gandhari and Kunti embraced each of them, and blessing them bade them go. Their mothers-in-law instructed them as to how they should conduct themselves. Obtaining leave, they then departed, with their husbands. Then loud sounds were heard, uttered by the charioteers that said,--"Yoke, yoke,"--as also of camels that grunted aloud and of steeds that neighed briskly. King Yudhishthira, with his wives and troops and all his kinsmen, set out for Hastinapura.'" SECTION XXXVII (Naradagamana Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'After two years had elapsed from the date of the return of the Pandavas (from the retreat of their sire), the celestial Rishi, Narada, O king, came to Yudhishthira. The mighty-armed Kuru king, that foremost of speakers, viz., Yudhishthira, having duly worshipped him, caused him to take a seat. After the Rishi had rested awhile, the king asked him, saying,--"It is after a long time that I behold thy holy self arrived at my court. Art thou in peace and happiness, O learned Brahmana? What are those countries which thou hast passed through? What shall I do to thee? Do thou tell me. Thou art the foremost of regenerate ones, and thou art our highest refuge." "'Narada said, "I have not seen thee for a long while. Hence it is that I have come to thee from my ascetic retreat. I have seen many sacred waters, and the sacred stream Ganga also, O king." "'Yudhishthira said, "People dwelling on the banks of Ganga report that the high-souled Dhritarashtra is practising the austerest of penances. Hast thou seen him there? Is that perpetuator of Kuru's race in peace? Are Gandhari and Pritha, and the Suta's son Sanjaya also, in peace? How, indeed, is it faring with that royal sire of mine? I desire to hear this, O holy one, if thou hast seen the king (and knowest of his condition)." "'Narada said, "Listen, O king, with calmness to me as I tell thee what I have heard and seen in that ascetic retreat. After thy return from Kurukshetra, O delighter of the Kurus, thy sire, O king, proceeded towards Gangadwara. That intelligent monarch took with him his (sacred) fire, Gandhari and his daughter-in-law Kunti, as also Sanjaya of the Suta caste, and all the Yajakas. Possessed of wealth of penances, thy sire set himself to the practice of severe austerities. He held pebbles of stone in his mouth and had air alone for his subsistence, and abstained altogether from speech. Engaged in severe penances, he was worshipped by all the ascetics in the woods. In six months the king was reduced only to a skeleton. Gandhari subsisted on water alone, while Kunti took a little every sixth day. The sacred fire, O monarch, (belonging to the Kuru king) was duly worshipped by the sacrificing assistants that were with him, with libations of clarified butter poured on it. They did this whether the king saw the rite or not. The king had no fixed habitation. He became a wanderer through those woods. The two queens, as also Sanjaya, followed him. Sanjaya acted as the guide on even and uneven land. The faultless Pritha, O king, became the eye of Gandhari. One day, that best of kings proceeded to a spot on the margin of Ganga. He then bathed in the sacred stream and finishing his ablutions turned his face towards his retreat. The wind rose high. A fierce forest-conflagration set in. It began to burn that forest all around. When the herds of animals were being burnt all around, as also the snakes that inhabited that region, herds of wild boars began to take themselves to the nearest marshes and waters. When that forest was thus afflicted on all sides and such distress came upon all the living creatures residing there, the king, who had taken no food, was incapable of moving or exerting himself at all. Thy two mothers also, exceedingly emaciated, were unable to move. The king, seeing the conflagration approach him from all sides, addressed the Suta Sanjaya, that foremost of skilful charioteers, saying,--'Go, O Sanjaya, to such a place where the fire may not burn thee. As regards ourselves, we shall suffer our bodies to be destroyed by this fire and attain to the highest goal.' Unto him, Sanjaya, that foremost of speakers, said,--'O king, this death, brought on by a fire that is not sacred, will prove calamitous to thee. I do not, however, see any means by which thou canst escape from this conflagration. That which should next be done should be indicated by thee.' Thus addressed by Sanjaya the king once more said,--'This death cannot be calamitous to us, for we have left our home of our own accord. Water, fire, wind, and abstention from food,[61] (as means of death), are laudable for ascetics. Do thou, therefore, leave us, O Sanjaya, without any delay.' Having said these words to Sanjaya, the king concentrated his mind. Facing the east, he sat down, with Gandhari and Kunti. Beholding him in that attitude, Sanjaya walked round him. Endued with intelligence, Sanjaya said,--'Do thou concentrate thy soul, O puissant one.' The son of a Rishi, and himself possessed of great wisdom, the king acted as he was told. Restraining all the senses, he remained like a post of wood. The highly blessed Gandhari, and thy mother Pritha too, remained in the same attitude. Then thy royal sire was overtaken by the forest-conflagration. Sanjaya, his minister, succeeded in escaping from that conflagration. I saw him on the banks of Ganga in the midst of ascetics. Endued with great energy and great intelligence, he bade them farewell and then started for the mountains of Himavat. Even thus the high-souled Kuru king met with his death, and it was even thus that Gandhari and Kunti, thy two mothers, also met with death, O monarch. In course of my wanderings at will, I saw the bodies of that king and those two queens, O Bharata. Many ascetics came to that retreat, having heard of the end of king Dhritarashtra. They did not at all grieve for that end of theirs. There, O best of men, I heard all the details of how the king and the two queens, O son of Pandu, had been burnt. O king of kings, thou shouldst not grieve for him. The monarch, of his own will, as also Gandhari and thy mother, obtained that contact with fire."' "Vaisampayana continued,--'Hearing of the exit of Dhritarashtra from this world, the high-souled Pandavas all gave way to great grief. Loud sounds of wailing were heard within the inner apartments of the palace. The citizens also, hearing of the end of the old king, uttered loud lamentations. "O fie!" cried king Yudhishthira in great agony, raising his arms aloft. Thinking of his mother, he wept like a child. All his brothers too, headed by Bhimasena, did the same. Hearing that Pritha had met with such a fate, the ladies of the royal household tittered loud lamentations of grief. All the people grieved upon hearing that the old king, who had become childless, had been burnt to death and that the helpless Gandhari too had shared his fate. When those sounds of wailing ceased for a while, king Yudhishthira the just, stopping his tears by summoning all his patience, said these words.'" SECTION XXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "When such a fate overtook that high-souled monarch who was engaged in austere penances, notwithstanding the fact of his having such kinsmen as ourselves all alive, it seems to me, O regenerate one, that the end of human beings is difficult to guess. Alas, who would have thought that the son of Vichitraviryya would thus be burnt to death. He had a hundred sons each endued with mighty arms and possessed of great prosperity. The king himself had the strength of ten thousand elephants. Alas, even he has been burnt to death in a forest-conflagration! Alas, he who had formerly been fanned with palm leaves by the fair hands of beautiful women was fanned by vultures with their wings after he had been burnt to death in a forest-conflagration! He who was formerly roused from sleep every morning by bands of Sutas and Magadhas had to sleep on the bare ground through the acts of my sinful self. I do not grieve for the famous Gandhari who had been deprived of all her children. Observing the same vows as her husband, she has attained to those very regions which have become his. I grieve, however, for Pritha who, abandoning the blazing prosperity of her sons, became desirous of residing in the woods. Fie on this sovereignty of ours, fie on our prowess, fie on the practices of Kshatriyas! Though alive, we are really dead! O foremost of superior Brahmanas, the course of Time is very subtle and difficult to understand, inasmuch as Kunti, abandoning sovereignty, became desirous of taking up her abode in the forest. How is it that she who was the mother of Yudhishthira, of Bhima, of Vijaya, was burnt to death like a helpless creature. Thinking of this I become stupefied. In vain was the deity of fire gratified at Khandava by Arjuna. Ingrate that he is, forgetting that service he has burnt to death the mother of his benefactor! Alas, how could that deity burn the mother of Arjuna. Putting on the guise of a Brahmana, he had formerly come to Arjuna for soliciting a favour. Fie on the deity of fire! Fie on the celebrated success of Partha's shafts! This is another incident, O holy one, that appears to me to be productive of greater misery, for that lord of Earth met with death by union with a fire that was not sacred. How could such a death overtake that royal sage of Kuru's race who, after having ruled the whole Earth, was engaged in the practice of penances. In that great forest there were fires that had been sanctified with mantras. Alas, my father has made his exit from this world, coming in contact with an unsanctified fire! I suppose that Pritha, emaciated and reduced to a form in which all her nerves became visible, must have trembled in fear and cried aloud, saying,--'O son Yudhishthira,' and awaited the terrible approach of the conflagration. She must have also said,--'O Bhima, rescue me from this danger'--when she, my mother, was surrounded on all sides by that terrible conflagration. Among all her sons, Sahadeva, was her darling. Alas, that heroic son of Madravati did not rescue her." Hearing these lamentations of the king, those persons that were present there began to weep, embracing each other. In fact, the five sons of Pandu were so stricken with grief that they resembled living creatures at the time of the dissolution of the universe. The sound of lamentations uttered by those weeping heroes, filling the spacious chambers of the palace, escaped therefrom and penetrated the very welkin.'" SECTION XXXIX "'Narada said, "The king has not been burnt to death by an unsanctified fire. I have heard this there. I tell thee, O Bharata, such has not been the fate of Vichitraviryya. It has been heard by us that when the old king endued with great intelligence and subsisting on air alone entered the woods (after his return from Gangadwara), he caused his sacrificial fires to be duly ignited. Having performed his sacred rites therewith, he abandoned them all. Then the Yajaka Brahmanas he had with him cast off those fires in a solitary part of the woods and went away as they liked on other errands, O foremost one of Bharata's race. The fire thus cast off grew in the woods. It then produced a general conflagration in the forest. Even this is what I have heard from the ascetics dwelling on the banks of Ganga. United with that (sacred) fire of his own, O chief of the Bharatas, the king, as I have already said unto thee, met with death on the banks of Ganga. O sinless one, this is what the ascetics have told me,--those, viz., whom I saw on the banks of the sacred Bhagirathi, O Yudhishthira. Thus O lord of Earth, king Dhritarashtra, coming into contact with his own sacred fire, departed from this world and attained to that high goal that has been his. Through service rendered by her to her seniors, thy mother, O lord of men, has attained to very great success. There is not the slightest doubt of this. It behoveth thee, O king of kings, to now discharge the rites of water to their honour, with all thy brothers. Let, therefore, the necessary steps be taken towards that end."' "Vaisampayana continued,--'Then that lord of Earth, that foremost of men, that upholder of the burthens of the Pandavas, went out, accompanied by all his brothers as well as the ladies of his household. The inhabitants of the city as also those of the provinces, impelled by their loyalty, also went out. They all proceeded towards the banks of Ganga, every one clad in only single peace of raiment. Then all those foremost of men, having plunged into the stream, placed Yuyutsu at their head, and began to offer oblations of water unto the high-souled king. And they also gave similar oblations unto Gandhari and Pritha, naming each separately and mentioning their families. Having finished those rites that cleanse the living, they came back but without entering their capital took up their residence outside of it. They also despatched a number of trusted people well conversant with the ordinances relating to the cremation of the dead, to Gangadwara where the old king had been burnt to death. The king, having rewarded those men beforehand, commanded them to accomplish those rites of cremation which the bodies of Dhritarashtra and Gandhari and Kunti still awaited.[62] On twelfth day, the king, properly purified, duly performed the Sraddhas of his deceased relations, which were characterised by gifts in abundance. Referring to Dhritarashtra, Yudhishthira made many gifts of gold and silver, of kine and costly beds. Uttering the names of Gandhari and Pritha, the king, endued with great energy, made many excellent gifts. Every man received what thing he wished and as much of it as he wished. Beds and food, and cars and conveyances, and jewels and gems, and other wealth were given away in profusion. Indeed, the king referring to his two mothers, gave away cars and conveyances, robes and coverlets, various kinds of food, and female slaves adorned with diverse ornaments. Having thus made many kinds of gifts in profusion, that lord of Earth then entered his capital called after the elephant. Those men who had gone to the banks of Ganga at the command of the king, having disposed of (by cremation) the remains of the king and two queens, returned to the city. Having duly honoured those remains with garlands and scents of diverse kinds and disposed of them, they informed Yudhishthira of the accomplishment of their task. The great Rishi Narada, having comforted king Yudhishthira of righteous soul, went away to where he liked. Even thus did king Dhritarashtra make his exit from this world after having passed three years in the forest and ten and five years in the city. Having lost all his children in battle, he had many gifts in honour of his kinsmen, relatives, and friends, his brethren and own people. King Yudhishthira after the death of his uncle, became very cheerless. Deprived of his kinsmen and relatives, he somehow bore the burthen of sovereignty. "'One should listen with rapt attention to this Asramavasika Parvan, and having heard it recited, one should feed Brahmanas with Habishya, honouring them with scents and garlands.'" The end of Asramavasika Parvan. FOOTNOTES 1. The derivation of Aralikas is explained by Nilakantha thus; Potherbs cut off with a kind of weapon called Ara are called Aralu. They who were expert in cooking those potherbs were called Aralikas. Ragakhandava was manufactured from piper longum, dry ginger, sugar, and the juice of Phaseolus Mango. 2. It will be remembered, Earth, unable to bear her load of population, prayed to the Grandsire for lightening that load. The Grandsire urged Vishnu to do the needful. Hence Vishnu incarnated himself as Krishna and brought about a lightening of Earth's load. 3. Mahadana implies such gifts as elephants, boats, cars, horses, etc. Everybody does not accept these gifts, for their acceptance causes a Brahmana to fall away from his status. 4. Some of the Bengal texts read avimukham hatah for abhimukam hatah. The sense is the same. 5. The king gets a sixth share of the penances performed by the Rishis living under his protection. The demerit, again, of all evil deeds done within his realm is shared by the king, for such deeds become possible through absence of supervision by the king. 6. Formerly kings and noblemen wore jewels and medicinal herbs on their arms. The last were enclosed in drum-like capsules of gold, hermetically closed on both sides. It was believed that jewels and medicinal herbs are a great protection against many evils. 7. The eight limbs of a kingdom are the law, the judge, the assessors, the scribe, the astrologer, gold, fire, and water. 8. Atta is explained by Nilakantha as the space kept for the soldiers to tread upon. 9. Grass may conceal the spies of foes. The darkness of night also may do the same. 10. Adanaruchi is a very civil way of indicating corrupt officials and thieves. Inflictors of severe punishments were looked upon as tyrants deserving of being put down. Heavy fines were at one time interdicted in England. Sahasapriya is a doer of rash deeds, such as culpable homicide not amounting to murder, to adopt the terminology of the Indian Penal Code. 11. i.e., content to work on receiving their food only. Their wages should not be higher that what is needed to feed them. 12. The word Mandala has been explained below in verse 5. The distinction between Udasinas and Madhyasthas, as explained by Nilakantha, is that the former are neutrals, while the latter are those who cherish equal sentiments towards both the parties. 13. The four kinds of foes, as explained by the commentator, are (1) foes proper, (2) allies of foes, (3) those that wish victory to both sides, and (4) those that wish defeat to both sides. As regards Atatayins, they are six, viz., (1) he that sets fire to one's house, (2) he that mixes poison with one's food, (3) he that advances, weapon in hand, with hostile intent, (4) he that robs one of one's wealth, (5) he that invades one's fields, and (6) he that steals one's wife. 14. The sixty are thus made up. Eight consisting of agriculture and the rest; twenty-eight consisting of forces and the rest; fourteen consisting of atheists and the rest and eighteen consisting of counsels and the rest. 15. i.e., land that is fertile, gold that is pure, and men that are strong. 16. The wards Kasyanchidapadi should be construed with what follows. 17. The cane yields when pressure is directed towards it. In the Santi Parva occurs the detailed conversation between the Ocean and the Rivers. The former enquired why, when the Rivers washed down the largest trees, they could not wash into the Ocean a single cane. The answer was that the cane was yielding; the trees were not so. 18. War and peace are each of two kinds, i.e., war with a strong foe and that with a weak foe: peace with a strong foe and that with a weak foe. The Bengal texts wrongly read dividhopayam or vividhopayam. 19. I expand this verse a little, following the commentator. 20. Strength is of three kinds, as explained in the next verse. 21. Utsaha is readiness or alacrity, of the forces to attack the foe: prabhusakti is the complete mastery of the king over his forces, i.e., through discipline. By strength of counsels, in this connection, is meant well-formed plans of attack and defence. 22. Maulam is explained as the strength of money. In modern warfare also, money is called 'the sinews of war'. Atavivala or the force consisting of foresters, was, perhaps, the body of Irregulars that supported a regular army of combatants. Bhritavala implies the regular army, drawing pay from the state at all times. In India, standing armies have existed from remote times. Sreni-vala is, perhaps, the forces of artisans, mechanics, and engineers, who looked after the roads and the transport, as also of traders who supplied the army with provision. 23. A sakata array was an array after the form of a car. It is described in Sukraniti fully, and occurs in the Drona Parva, ante. The Padma is a circular array with angular projections. It is the same with what is now called the starry array, many modern forts being constructed on this plan. The Vajra is a wedge-like array. It penetrates into the enemy's divisions like a wedge and goes out, routing the foe. It is otherwise called suchivyuha. 24. i.e., meet the foe whether within his own kingdom or invade the foe's realm and thus oblige the foe to fall back for resisting him there. 25. i.e., for obtaining fame here and felicity hereafter. 26. Those who die become at first what is called Preta. They remain so for one year, till the Sapindikarana Sraddha is performed. They then become united with the Pitris. The gifts made in the first Sraddha as also in the monthly ones, have the virtue of rescuing the Preta or bringing him an accession of merit. The gifts in annual Sraddhas also have the same efficacy. 27. The text in verse 2, where mention is made of thousands of years as embracing the rule of Yudhishthira, is evidently vitiated. 28. The correct reading is jane and not kshane. 29. It is difficult to imagine why the ruler of the Sindhus, Jayadratha, only should be regarded as a wrong-doer to the Pandavas. In the matter of the slaying of Abhimanyu he played a very minor part, by only guarding the entrance of the array against the Pandava warriors. It is true he had attempted to abduct Draupadi from the forest retreat of the Pandavas, but even in this, the wrong was not so great as that which Duryodhana and others inflicted on the Pandavas by dragging Draupadi to the court of the Kurus. 30. The usual way in which gifts are made at the present day on occasions of Sraddhas and marriages or other auspicious rites very nearly resembles what is described here. Instead of dedicating each gift with mantras and water and making it over to the receiver, all the articles in a heap are dedicated with the aid of mantras. The guests are then assembled, and are called up individually. The Adhyaksha or superintendent, according to a list prepared, names the gifts to be made to the guest called up. The tellers actually make them over, the scribes noting them down. 31. Each gift that was indicated by Dhritarashtra was multiplied ten times at the command of Yudhishthira. 32. As Dhritarashtra was blind, his queen Gandhari, whose devotion to her lord was very great, had, from the days of her marriage, kept her eyes bandaged refusing to look on the world which her lord could not see. 33. Nilakantha explains that as Dhritarashtra is Pandu's elder brother, therefore, Kunti regards him as Pandu's father. Queen Gandhari therefore is Kunti's mother-in-law. The eldest brother is looked upon as a father. 34. To live watching the faces of others is to live in dependence on others. 35. It has been pointed out before that mahadana means gifts of such things as elephants, horses, cars and other vehicles, boats, etc. The giver wins great merit by making them, but the receiver incurs demerit by acceptance, unless he happens to be a person of exceptional energy. To this day, acceptors of such gifts are looked upon as fallen men. 36. The words that Kunti spoke were just. The opposition her sons offered was unreasonable. Hence, their shame. 37. 'Brahmi night' implies a night in course of which sacred hymns are sung. 38. Nakharaprasa-yodhina, Nilakantha explains, are those combatants who are armed with tiger-like claws made of iron and tied to their waists. 39. Suradevata is like karivringhati or govalivardda. 40. Ulupi is implied. 41. Implying the unfair character of the fight, for one on the earth should never be assailed by one on his car. 42. Yudhishthira was Dharma's self, Vidura also was Dharma born as a Sudra through the curse of the Rishi Animandavya. Both, therefore, were of the same essence. When Vidura left his human body, he entered the body of Yudhishthira and thus the latter felt himself strengthened greatly by the accession. 43. Nilakantha here implies the peacock and not the blue jay, for the word keka is applied to the notes of the peacock alone. Datyuhas are gallinules or a species of Chatakas whose cry resembles, Phatik jal--phatik jal--phatik jal! repeated very distinctly, the second syllable being lengthened greatly. 44. Audumvaran is an adjective of kalasan. It means 'made of copper'. Praveni is a kutha or blanket. Sruk is a ladle having the cup like cavity at one extremity only. Sruv is a ladle having cup-like cavities at both extremities. 45. Whenever a Brahmana cursed another, his penances underwent a diminution. Forgiveness was the highest virtue of the Brahmana. His power lay in forgiveness. Hence, when Mandavya cursed Dharma, he had to spend a portion of his hard-earned penances. Previously, the plea of minority or non-age could not be urged in the court of Dharma. Mandavya forced Dharma to admit that plea in the matter of punishment for offences. 46. Both Dharana and Dhyana are processes or, rather, stages of Yoga. The former implies the fixing of the mind on one thing; the latter is the abstraction of the mind from surrounding objects. 47. Valhika was the sire of Somadatta and the grandsire of Bhurisravas. Valhika, therefore, was the grand-father-in-law of the lady mentioned by Gandhari. 48. The puissance here referred to is that of Anima, Laghima, etc. i.e., the capacity of becoming minute and subtile, etc. 49. The sense is that those had been incarnated as human beings and fighting with one another met with death as regards their human existence. 50. Nilakantha explains that anayasakritani karma implies the religion of Nivritti, for the religion of Pravritti consists of acts that require ayasa or exertion for their accomplishment. The religion of Nivritti or abstention from acts is said hereto be true and superior, and productive of real fruit, in the form, that is, of Emancipation. The soul, however, in the generality of cases, united with ebhih, by which is meant ayasa-kritam karma, that is, the acts done in pursuance of the religion of Pravritti, becomes embodied and, therefore, enjoys happiness or endures misery as the case may be. 51. The sense seems to be this--when a creature stands before a mirror, its image is formed in the mirror; such reflection, however, never affects the mirror in the least, for when the object leaves the vicinity of the mirror, the image or reflection vanishes away. The soul is like the mirror. Pleasure and pain are like reflections in it. They come and go away without the soul being at all modified by them in anyway. Pleasure and pain are destructible, but not so the soul. 52. The ordinary man thinks this conglomeration of diverse objects to be his self. The man of wisdom who has exhausted his acts does not think so. He is freed from the obligation of taking a body. 53. The sense probably is this. In the case of ordinary men, the component parts of the body dissolve away, while Yogins can keep such parts from dissolution as long as they like. 54. The sense is, the deities bear away to the next world the animals slain in sacrifices. Though the bodies of such animals are apparently destroyed, yet their life-breaths and senses continue to exist. 55. The sense is that as wives etc., when lost, are sources of sorrow, wise men should abstain from contracting such relations. They might then be free from sorrow. 56. Paraparajnah is one that understands the distinction between body and sell. Apara is, therefore, one that is not possessed of such knowledge; hence, as Nilakantha explains, it implies one who has not attained to Jnana nishtha. What is said in the second line is that he that adores saguna Brahma, succeeds afterwards, through such adoration, in reaching to nirguna Brahma. 57. The sense seems to be this: we spring from the unmanifest and disappear once more in the unmanifest. The Bengal texts read the first line incorrectly. It is adarsanalapatitah. The second line is unintelligible. Naham tam vedini is taken by Nilakantha as implying 'I do not know him,' i.e., him that is Emancipate. Asau cha no vetti mam is explained as a due to karanabhat. But who is asau? 'I have no renunciation,' or 'renunciation is not yet mine,' implies that Emancipation, which directly flows from renunciation, is not mine. 58. What is stated here is that if a man does an act that is bad, its consequences he will have to endure in a human body. The same with regard to rewards. By doing a meritorious act in one's human form, one will enjoy its good consequences in one's human body. So acts done mentally affect the mind and those done with the body affect the body. It should be noted that the whole of the above translation is offered tentatively. A verbal rendering has been attempted. The chain of reasoning is not at all clear. The commentator has done much to elucidate the sense, but the original obscurities have scarcely been removed. 59. The Bengal reading manah is incorrect. It should be punah. 60. Nripam pradakshinam chakru is the construction. Nivarana has snanapanat understood after it. 61. Vikarshanam is emaciation of the body by abstention from all food. 62. The verb anvacat from root sas can govern two objectives. Here the two objectives are purushan and krityani. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 16 Mausala-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 Om! Having bowed down unto Narayana, and to Nara, the foremost of men, as also to the goddess Sarasvati, should the word "Jaya" be uttered. "Vaishampayana said: 'When the thirty-sixth year (after the battle) was reached, the delighter of the Kurus, Yudhishthira, beheld many unusual portents. Winds, dry and strong, and showering gravels, blew from every side. Birds began to wheel, making circles from right to left. The great rivers ran in opposite directions. The horizon on every side seemed to be always covered with fog. Meteors, showering (blazing) coals, fell on the Earth from the sky. The Sun's disc, O king, seemed to be always covered with dust. At its rise, the great luminary of day was shorn of splendour and seemed to be crossed by headless trunks (of human beings). Fierce circles of light were seen every day around both the Sun and the Moon. These circles showed three hues. Their edges seemed to be black and rough and ashy-red in colour. These and many other omens, foreshadowing fear and danger, were seen, O king, and filled the hearts of men with anxiety. A little while after, the Kuru king Yudhishthira heard of the wholesale carnage of the Vrishnis in consequence of the iron bolt. The son of Pandu, hearing that only Vasudeva and Rama had escaped with life, summoned his brothers and took counsel with them as to what they should do. Meeting with one another, they became greatly distressed upon hearing that the Vrishnis had met with destruction through the Brahmana's rod of chastisement. The death of Vasudeva, like the drying up of the ocean, those heroes could not believe. In fact the destruction of the wielder of Saranga was incredible to them. Informed of the incident about the iron bolt, the Pandavas became filled with grief and sorrow. In fact, they sat down, utterly cheerless and penetrated with blank despair.' "Janamejaya said: 'Indeed, O holy one, how was it that the Andhakas along with Vrishnis, and those great car-warriors, the Bhojas, met with destruction in the very sight of Vasudeva?' "Vaishampayana continued: 'When the thirty-sixth year was reached (after the great battle) a great calamity overtook the Vrishnis. Impelled by Time, they all met with destruction in consequence of the iron bolt.' "Janamejaya said: 'Cursed by whom did those heroes, the Vrishnis, the Andhakas, and the Bhojas, met with destruction? O foremost of regenerate persons, do thou tell me this in detail.' "Vaishampayana continued: 'One day, the Vrishni heroes numbering Samva amongst them, saw Vishvamitra and Kanwa and Narada arrived at Dwaraka. Afflicted by the rod of chastisement wielded by the deities, those heroes, causing Samva to be disguised like a woman, approached those ascetics and said, "This one is the wife of Vabhru of immeasurable energy who is desirous of having a son. Ye Rishis, do you know for certain what this one will bring forth?" "'Hear now, O king, what those ascetics, attempted to be thus deceived, said: "This heir of Vasudeva, by name Samva, will bring forth a fierce iron bolt for the destruction of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas. Ye wicked and cruel ones, intoxicated with pride, through that iron bolt ye will become the exterminators of your race with the exception of Rama and Janarddana. The blessed hero armed with the plough will enter the ocean, casting off his body, while a hunter of the name of Jara will pierce the high-souled Krishna while lying on the ground." "'Endeavoured to be deceived by those wicked ones, those ascetics, with eyes red in wrath, looked at each other and uttered those words. Having said so they then proceeded to see Keshava. The slayer of Madhu, informed of what had taken place, summoned all the Vrishnis and told them of it. Possessed of great intelligence and fully acquainted with what the end of his race would be, he simply said that that which was destined would surely happen. Hrishikesa having said so, entered his mansion. The Lord of the universe did not wish to ordain otherwise. When the next day came, Samva actually brought forth an iron bolt through which all the individuals in the race of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas became consumed into ashes. Indeed, for the destruction of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, Samva brought forth, through that curse, a fierce iron bolt that looked like a gigantic messenger of death. The fact was duly reported to the king. In great distress of mind, the king (Ugrasena) caused that iron bolt to be reduced into fine powder. Men were employed, O king, to cast that powder into the sea. At the command of Ahuka, of Janarddana, of Rama, and of the high-souled Vabhru, it was, again, proclaimed throughout the city that from that day, among all the Vrishnis and the Andhakas no one should manufacture wines and intoxicating spirits of any kind, and that whoever would secretly manufacture wines and spirits should be impaled alive with all his kinsmen. Through fear of the king, and knowing that it was the command of Rama also of unimpeachable deeds, all the citizens bound themselves by a rule and abstained from manufacturing wines and spirits.'" 2 "Vaishampayana said: 'While the Vrishnis and the Andhakas were thus endeavouring (to avoid the impending calamity), the embodied form of Time (death) every day wandered about their houses. He looked like a man of terrible and fierce aspect. Of bald head, he was black and of tawny complexion. Sometimes he was seen by the Vrishnis as he peered into their houses. The mighty bowmen among the Vrishnis shot hundreds and thousands of shafts at him, but none of these succeeded in piercing him, for he was none else than the Destroyer of all creatures. Day by day strong winds blew, and many were the evil omens that arose, awful and foreboding the destruction of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas. The streets swarmed with rats and mice. Earthen pots showed cracks or broke from no apparent cause. At night, the rats and mice ate away the hair and nails of slumbering men. Sarikas chirped, sitting within the houses of the Vrishnis. The noise made by those birds ceased not for even a short while by day or by night. The Sarashas were heard to imitate the hooting of the owl, and goats imitated the cries, O Bharata, of jackals. Many birds appeared, impelled by Death, that were pale of complexion but that had legs red of hue. Pigeons were seen to always disport in the houses of the Vrishnis. Asses were born of kine, and elephants of mules. Cats were born of bitches, and mouse of the mongoose. The Vrishnis, committing sinful acts, were not seen to feel any shame. They showed disregard for Brahmanas and the Pitris and the deities. They insulted and humiliated their preceptors and seniors. Only Rama and Janardana acted differently. Wives deceived their husbands, and husbands deceived their wives. Fires, when ignited, cast their flames towards the left. Sometimes they threw out flames whose splendour was blue and red. The Sun, whether when rising or setting over the city, seemed to be surrounded by headless trunks of human form. In cook rooms, upon food that was clean and well-boiled, were seen, when it was served out for eating, innumerable worms of diverse kinds. When Brahmanas, receiving gifts, blessed the day or the hour (fixed for this or that undertaking) or when high-souled men were engaged in silent recitations, the heavy tread was heard of innumerable men running about, but no one could be seen to whom the sound of such tread could be ascribed. The constellations were repeatedly seen to be struck by the planets. None amongst the Yadavas could, however, obtain a sight of the constellation of his birth. When the Panchajanya was blown in their houses, asses of dissonant and awful voice brayed aloud from every direction. Beholding these signs that indicated the perverse course of Time, and seeing that the day of the new moon coincided with the thirteenth (and the fourteenth) lunation, Hrishikesa, summoning the Yadavas, said unto them these words: "The fourteenth lunation has been made the fifteenth by Rahu once more. Such a day had happened at the time of the great battle of the Bharatas. It has once more appeared, it seems, for our destruction." The slayer of Keshi, Janardana, thinking upon the omens that Time showed, understood that the thirty-sixth year had come, and that what Gandhari, burning with grief on account of the death of her sons, and deprived of all her kinsmen, had said was about to transpire. "The present is exactly similar to that time when Yudhishthira noted at such awful omens when the two armies had been arrayed in order of battle." Vasudeva, having said so, endeavoured to bring about those occurrences which would make Gandhari's words true. That chastiser of foes commanded the Vrishnis to make a pilgrimage to some sacred water. The messengers forthwith proclaimed at the command of Keshava that the Vrishnis should make a journey to the sea-coast for bathing in the sacred waters of the ocean.'" 3 "Vaishampayana said: 'At that time the Vrishni ladies dreamed every night that a woman of black complexion and white teeth, entering their abodes, laughed aloud and ran through Dwaraka, snatching from them the auspicious threads in their wrists. The men dreamt that terrible vultures, entering their houses and fire-chambers, gorged themselves on their bodies. Their ornaments and umbrellas and standards and armour were seen to be taken away by terrible Rakshasas. In the very sight of the Vrishnis, the discus of Krishna, given by Agni, made of iron and having its nave composed of hardest adamant, ascended into the firmament. In the very sight of Daruka, the excellent car of Vasudeva, of solar effulgence, and properly equipped, was taken away by the horses yoked unto it. Those foremost of steeds, numbering four, (Saivya, Sugriva, Meghapushpa and Valahaka), and endued with the speed of thought, fled away, dragging the car after them along the surface of the ocean. The two great standards of Krishna's car and Valadeva's car, that with the device of Garuda and that bearing the device of the palmyra, which were reverently worshipped by those two heroes, were taken away by Apsaras who, day and night, called upon the Vrishnis and the Andhakas to set out on a pilgrimage to some sacred water. When these omens were seen and heard, those foremost of men, the mighty car-warriors of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, became desirous of setting out, with their whole families, on a pilgrimage to some sacred water. They prepared diverse kinds of viands and edibles and diverse kinds of wines and meat. The troops of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, blazing with beauty and endued with fierce energy, then set out from the city on cars and steeds and elephants. The Yadavas, then, with their wives, proceeded to Prabhasa and took up their residence there, each in the (temporary) habitation that was assigned to him, and all having an abundance of provisions consisting of edibles and drink. "'Hearing that they had taken up their abode on the sea-coast, Uddhava, the wisest of men, who was, besides, well-versed in Yoga, proceeded there and took his leave (for departing). Krishna, with joined hands, saluted Uddhava, and seeing him bent on departing (from the world) and knowing that the destructions of the Vrishnis was at hand, did not feel any disposition to prevent him. The mighty car-warriors among the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, whose hour had come, then saw Uddhava proceed on his great journey, filling the whole welkin with his splendour. The Vrishnis, mixing with wine the food that had been cooked for high-souled Brahmanas, gave it away unto monkeys and apes. Those heroes of fierce energy then began their high revels, of which drinking formed the chief feature, at Prabhasa. The entire field echoed with the blare of hundreds of trumpets and abounded with actors and dancers plying their vocations. In the very sight of Krishna, Rama began to drink, with Kritavarma, Yuyudhana and Gada; and Vabhru also did the same. Then Yuyudhana, inebriated with wine, derisively laughing at and insulting Kritavarma in the midst of that assembly, said, "What Kshatriya is there who, armed with weapons, will slay men locked in the embraces of sleep and, therefore, already dead? Hence, O son of Hridika, the Yadavas will never tolerate what thou hast done." When Yuyudhana had said these words, Pradyumna, that foremost of car-warriors, applauded them, expressing his disregard for the son of Hridika. "'Highly incensed at this, Kritavarma, emphasising his disregard for Satyaki, by pointing to him with his left hand, said these words: "Professing thyself to be a hero, how couldst thou so cruelly slay the armless Bhurishrava who, on the field of battle, (gave up all hostile intentions and) sat in praya?" "'Hearing these words of his, Keshava, that slayer of hostile heroes, giving way to wrath, cast an angry glance at Kritavarma. Then Satyaki informed the slayer of Madhu as to how Kritavarma had behaved towards Satrajit for taking away from him the celebrated gem Syamantaka. Hearing the narrative, Satyabhama, giving way to wrath and tears, approached Keshava and sitting on his lap enhanced his anger (for Kritavarma). Then rising up in a rage, Satyaki said, "I swear to thee by Truth that I shall soon cause this one to follow in the wake of the five sons of Draupadi, and of Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi, they that were slain by this sinful wretch, while they were asleep, with the assistance of Drona's son. O thou of slender waist, Kritavarma's period of life and fame have come to their end." "'Having said these words, Satyaki rushed at Kritavarma and severed his head with a sword in the very sight of Keshava. Yuyudhana, having achieved this feat, began to strike down others there present. Hrishikesa ran to prevent him from doing further mischief. At that time, however, O monarch, the Bhojas and Andhakas, impelled by the perverseness of the hour that had come upon them, all became as one man and surrounded the son of Sini. Janardana of mighty energy, knowing the character of the hour, stood unmoved without giving way to anger at the sight of those heroes rushing in wrath at Satyaki from every side. Urged by fate and inebriated with drink, they began to strike Yuyudhana with the pots from which they had been eating. When the son of Sini was being thus assaulted, Rukmini's son became highly enraged. He rushed forward for rescuing Satyaki who was engaged with the Bhojas and the Andhakas. Endued with might of arms and wealth of energy, those two heroes exerted themselves with great courage. But as the odds were overwhelming, both of them were slain in the very sight of Krishna. The delighter of the Yadus, beholding his own son, and the son of Sini too, slain, took up, in wrath, a handful of the Eraka grass that grew there. That handful of grass became a terrible bolt of iron endued with the energy of the thunderbolt. With it Krishna slew all those that came before him. Then the Andhakas and the Bhojas, the Saineyas and the Vrishnis, urged by Time, struck one another in that fearful melee. Indeed, O king, whoever amongst them took up in wrath a few blades of the Eraka grass, these, in his hands, became soon converted into a thunderbolt, O puissant one. Every blade of grass there was seen to be converted into a terrible iron bolt. All this, know, O king, was due to the curse denounced by Brahmanas. He who hurled a blade of grass saw that it pierced through even such things as were utterly impenetrable. In fact, every blade was seen to become a terrible bolt having the force of thunder. Son killed sire, and sire killed son, O Bharata. Inebriated with wine, they rushed and fell upon one another. The Kukuras and the Andhakas met with destruction like insects rushing at a blazing fire. As they were thus being slaughtered, no one among them thought of escaping by flight. Knowing that the hour of destruction had come, the mighty-armed Keshava stood there, eyeing everything. Indeed, the slayer of Madhu stood, raising a bolt of iron formed of a blade of grass. Beholding that Samva was slain, as also Charudeshna and Pradyumna and Aniruddha, Madhava became filled with rage. Beholding Gada lying dead on the ground, his wrath became enhanced. The wielder of Sarnga and the discus and the mace then exterminated the Vrishnis and the Andhakas. Hear, O king, what that conquerer of hostile towns, Vabhru of mighty energy and Daruka then said to Krishna, "O holy one, a very large number of men has been slain by thee. Turn now to where Rama has gone. We wish to go there where he has proceeded."'" 4 "Vaishampayana said: 'Then Daruka and Keshava and Vabhru left that spot, following in the wake of Rama (for discovering his retreat). They beheld that hero of infinite energy sitting thoughtfully, reclining his back against a tree, in a solitary spot of earth. Finding Rama of great soul, Krishna commanded Daruka, saying, "Going to the Kurus, inform Partha of this great slaughter of the Yadus. Let Arjuna come here quickly, hearing of the destruction of the Yadavas through the Brahmana's curse." "'Thus addressed, Daruka, deprived of his senses by grief, proceeded on a car to the (capital of the) Kurus. After Daruka had gone away, Keshava, seeing Vabhru waiting on him, told him these words: "Do thou go quickly for protecting the ladies. Let not robbers do them any injury, tempted by the wealth (that is with them)." Thus commanded by Keshava, Vabhru, still helpless with wine but cheerless at the slaughter of his kinsmen, departed. He had rested for a while by the side of Keshava, but as soon as he had proceeded to a distance, the iron-bolt, attaching itself to a mallet in the hands of a hunter, suddenly sprang of itself upon that solitary survivor of the Yadava race and slew him, who also had been included in the curse of the Brahmanas. Beholding Vabhru slain, Keshava of great energy addressed his elder brother and said, "Do thou, O Rama wait for me here till I place the ladies under the care of kinsmen." "'Entering the city of Dwaravati, Janardana said these words unto his father, "Do thou protect all the ladies of our house, till Dhananjaya comes. At the skirts of the forest Rama is waiting for me. I shall meet him today. This great carnage of the Yadus has been beheld by me even as I beheld before the carnage of those Kshatriyas who were the foremost ones of Kuru's race. It is impossible for me to see this city of the Yadavas without the Yadus beside me. Know that proceeding to the woods I shall practise penances with Rama in my company." Having said these words, Krishna touched the feet of his father with his head, and quickly left his presence. Then a loud wail of sorrow arose from the ladies and children of his house. Hearing that loud sound of wailing uttered by the weeping ladies, Keshava retraced his foot-steps and said unto them, "Arjuna will come here. That foremost of men will relieve you of your grief." "'Proceeding then to the forest, Keshava beheld Rama sitting in a solitary spot thereof. He also saw that Rama had set himself to Yoga and that from out his mouth was issuing a mighty snake. The colour of that snake was white. Leaving the human body (in which he had dwelt so long), that high-souled naga of a 1,000 heads and having a form as large as that of a mountain, endued besides with red eyes, proceeded along that way which led to the ocean. Ocean himself, and many celestial snakes, and many sacred Rivers were there, for receiving him with honour. There were Karkotaka and Vasuki and Takshaka and Prithusravas and Varuna and Kunjara, and Misri and Sankha and Kumuda and Pundarika, and the high-souled Dhritarashtra, and Hrada and Kratha and Sitikantha of fierce energy, and Chakramanda and Atishanda, and that foremost of Nagas called Durmukha, and Amvarisha, and king Varuna himself, O monarch. Advancing forward and offering him the Arghya and water to wash his feet, and with diverse other rites, they all worshipped the mighty Naga and saluted him by making the usual enquiries. "'After his brother had thus departed from the (human) world, Vasudeva of celestial vision, who was fully acquainted with the end of all things, wandered for some time in that lonely forest thoughtfully. Endued with great energy he then sat down on the bare earth. He had thought before this of everything that had been fore-shadowed by the words uttered by Gandhari in former days. He also recollected the words that Durvasas had spoken at the time his body was smeared by that Rishi with the remnant of the Payasa he had eaten (while a guest at Krishna's house). The high-souled one, thinking of the destruction of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, as also of the previous slaughter of the Kurus, concluded that the hour (for his own departure from the world) had come. He then restrained his senses (in Yoga). Conversant with the truth of every topic, Vasudeva, though he was the Supreme Deity, wished to die, for dispelling all doubts and establishing a certainty of results (in the matter of human existence), simply for upholding the three worlds and for making the words of Atri's son true. Having restrained all his senses, speech, and mind, Krishna laid himself down in high Yoga. "'A fierce hunter of the name of Jara then came there, desirous of deer. The hunter, mistaking Keshava, who was stretched on the earth in high Yoga, for a deer, pierced him at the heel with a shaft and quickly came to that spot for capturing his prey. Coming up, Jara beheld a man dressed in yellow robes, rapt in Yoga and endued with many arms. Regarding himself an offender, and filled with fear, he touched the feet of Keshava. The high-souled one comforted him and then ascended upwards, filling the entire welkin with splendour. When he reached Heaven, Vasava and the twin Ashvinis and Rudra and the Adityas and the Vasus and the Viswedevas, and Munis and Siddhas and many foremost ones among the Gandharvas, with the Apsaras, advanced to receive him. Then, O king, the illustrious Narayana of fierce energy, the Creator and Destroyer of all, that preceptor of Yoga, filling Heaven with his splendour, reached his own inconceivable region. Krishna then met the deities and (celestial) Rishis and Charanas, O king, and the foremost ones among the Gandharvas and many beautiful Apsaras and Siddhas and Saddhyas. All of them, bending in humility, worshipped him. The deities all saluted him, O monarch, and many foremost of Munis and Rishis worshipped him who was the Lord of all. The Gandharvas waited on him, hymning his praises, and Indra also joyfully praised him.'" 5 "Vaishampayana said: 'Meanwhile Daruka, going to the Kurus and seeing those mighty car-warriors, the son of Pritha, informed them of how the Vrishnis had slain one another with iron bolts. Hearing that the Vrishnis along with the Bhojas and Andhakas and Kukuras had all been slain, the Pandavas, burning with grief, became highly agitated. Then Arjuna, the dear friend of Keshava, bidding them farewell, set out for seeing his maternal uncle. He said that destruction would soon overtake everything. Proceeding to the city of the Vrishnis with Daruka in his company, O puissant king, that hero beheld that the city of Dwaraka looked like a woman bereft of her husband. Those ladies who had, before this, the very Lord of the universe for their protector, were now lordless. Seeing that Partha had come for protecting them, they all set up a loud wail. 16,000 ladies had been wedded to Vasudeva. Indeed, as soon as they saw Arjuna arrive, they uttered a loud cry of sorrow. As soon as the Kuru prince met those beauteous ones deprived of the protection of Krishna and of their sons as well, he was unable to look at them, his vision being obstructed by tears. The Dwaraka river had the Vrishnis and the Andhakas for its water, steeds for its fishes, cars for its rafts, the sound of musical instruments and the rattle of cars for its waves, houses and mansions and public squares for its lakes. Gems and precious stones were its abundant moss. The walls of adamant were the garlands of flowers that floated on it. The streets and roads were the strong currents running in eddies along its surface. The great open squares were the still large lakes in its course. Rama and Krishna were its two mighty alligators. That agreeable river now seemed to Arjuna to be the fierce Vaitarani bound up with Time's net. Indeed, the son of Vasava, endued with great intelligence, beheld the city to look even thus, reft as it was of the Vrishni heroes. Shorn of beauty, and perfectly cheerless, it presented the aspect of a lotus flower in the season of winter. Beholding the sight that Dwaraka presented, and seeing the numerous wives of Krishna, Arjuna wailed aloud with eyes bathed in tears and fell down on the earth. Then Satya, the daughter of Satrajit, and Rukmini too, O king, fell down beside Dhananjaya and uttered loud wails of grief. Raising him then they caused him to be seated on a golden seat. The ladies sat around that high-souled one, giving expression to their feelings. Praising Govinda and talking with the ladies, the son of Pandu comforted them and then proceeded to see his maternal uncle.'" 6 "Vaishampayana said: 'The Kuru prince beheld the heroic and high-souled Anakadundubhi lying on the ground and burning with grief on account of his sons. The broad-chested and mighty-armed son of Pritha, more afflicted than his uncle, with eyes bathed in tears, touched his uncle's feet, O Bharata. The mighty-armed Anakadundubhi wished to smell the head of his sister's son but failed to do it, O slayer of foes. The old man of mighty arms, deeply afflicted, embraced Partha with his arms and wept aloud, remembering his sons, brothers, grandsons, daughters' sons, and friends. "'Vasudeva said, "Without beholding those heroes, O Arjuna, who had subjugated all the kings of the Earth and the Daityas a hundred times, I am still alive! Methinks, I have no death! Through the fault of those two heroes who were thy dear disciples and who were much regarded by thee, also, O Partha, the Vrishnis have been destroyed. Those two who were regarded as Atirathas amongst the foremost of the Vrishnis, and referring to whom in course of conversation thou wert wont to indulge in pride, and who, O chief of Kuru's race, were ever dear to Krishna himself, alas, those two, O Dhananjaya, have been the chief causes of the destruction of the Vrishnis! I do not censure the son of Sini or the son of Hridika, O Arjuna. I do not censure Akrura or the son of Rukmini. No doubt, the curse (of the Rishis) is the sole cause. How is it that that lord of the universe, the slayer of Madhu, who had put forth his prowess for achieving the destruction of Kesin and Kansa, and Chaidya swelling with pride, and Ekalavya, the son of the ruler of the Nishadas, and the Kalingas and the Magadhas, and the Gandharas and the king of Kasi, and many rulers assembled together in the midst of the desert, many heroes belonging to the East and the South, and many kings of the mountainous regions, alas, how could he remain indifferent to such a calamity as the curse denounced by the Rishis? Thyself, Narada, and the Munis, knew him to be the eternal and sinless Govinda, the Deity of unfading glory. Alas, being puissant Vishnu himself, he witnessed, without interfering, the destruction of his kinsmen! My son must have himself allowed all this to happen. He was the Lord of the universe. He did not, however, wish to falsify the words of Gandhari and the Rishis, O scorcher of foes. In thy very sight, O hero, thy grandson, who had been slain by Ashvatthama, was revived through his energy. That friend, however, of yours did not wish to protect his kinsmen. Beholding his sons and grandsons and brothers and friends lying dead, he said unto me these words, O chief of Bharata's race, 'The destruction of this our race has at last come. Vibhatsu will come to this city, Dwaravati. Tell him what has occurred, this great carnage of the Vrishnis. I have no doubt that as soon as he will hear of the destruction of the Yadus, that hero of mighty energy will come here without any loss of time. Know, O father, that I am Arjuna and Arjuna is myself. That should be done by thee which he would say. The son of Pandu will do what is best for the women and the children. Even he will perform thy funeral rites. This city of Dwaravati, after Arjuna's departure, will, with its walls and edifices, be swallowed up by the ocean without any delay. As regards myself, retiring to some sacred place, I shall bide my hour, with the intelligent Rama in my company, observing strict vows all the while.' Having said these words unto me, Hrishikesa of inconceivable prowess, leaving me with the children, has gone away to some spot which I do not know. Thinking of those two high-souled brothers of thine, as also of the terrible carnage of my kinsmen, I have abstained from all food, and am emaciated with grief. I shall neither eat, nor live. By good luck thou meetest me, O son of Pandu. Do thou accomplish all, O Partha, that Krishna has said. This kingdom, with all these women, and all the wealth here, is thine now, O son of Pritha. As regards myself, O slayer of foes, I shall cast off my life-breaths dear though they be."'" 7 "Vaishampayana said: 'That scorcher of foes, Vibhatsu, thus addressed by his maternal uncle, replied, with great cheerlessness of heart, unto Vasudeva who was equally cheerless, saying, "O uncle, I am unable to look at this Earth when she is reft of that hero of Vrishni's race and those my other kinsmen. The king and Bhimasena and Sahadeva and Nakula and Yajnaseni, numbering the sixth, are of the same mind with myself in this matter. The time has come for the departure of the king also. Know this, that the hour of our departure too is at hand. Thou art the foremost of those that are well conversant with the course of time. I shall, however, O chastiser of foes, first remove to Indraprastha the women of the Vrishni race as also the children and the aged." Having said so unto his uncle, Arjuna next addressed Daruka, saying, "I wish to see without any delay the chief officers of the Vrishni heroes." Having uttered these words, the heroic Arjuna, grieving for those great car-warriors (who had been slain), entered the great hall of the Yadavas (where they used to hold their court), called Sudharma. When he had taken his seat there, all the citizens, including the Brahmanas, and all the ministers of state came and stood surrounding him. Then Partha, more grieved than they, addressed those grieving and cheerless citizens and officers who were more dead than alive, and said these words that were well suited to the occasion: "I shall take away with me the remnants of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas. The sea will soon engulf this city. Equip all your cars and place on them all your wealth. This Vajra (the grandson of Krishna) will be your king at Shakraprastha. On the seventh day from this, at sunrise, we shall set out. Make your preparations without delay." "'Thus addressed by Pritha's son of pure deeds, all of them hastened their preparations with eagerness for achieving their safety. Arjuna passed that night in the mansion of Keshava. He was suddenly overwhelmed with great grief and stupefaction. When morning dawned, Vasudeva of great energy and prowess attained, through the aid of Yoga, to the highest goal. A loud and heart-rending sound of wailing was heard in Vasudeva's mansion, uttered by the weeping ladies. They were seen with dishevelled hair and divested of ornaments and floral wreaths. Beating their breasts with their hands, they indulged in heart-rending lamentations. Those foremost of women, Devaki and Bhadra and Rohini and Madira threw themselves on the bodies of their lord. Then Partha caused the body of his uncle to be carried out on a costly vehicle borne on the shoulders of men. It was followed by all the citizens of Dwaraka and the people of the provinces, all of whom, deeply afflicted by grief, had been well-affected towards the deceased hero. Before that vehicle were borne the umbrella which had been held over his head at the conclusion of the horse-sacrifice he had achieved while living, and also the blazing fires he had daily worshipped, with the priests that had used to attend to them. The body of the hero was followed by his wives decked in ornaments and surrounded by thousands of women and thousands of their daughters-in-law. The last rites were then performed at that spot which had been agreeable to him while he was alive. The four wives of that heroic son of Sura ascended the funeral pyre and were consumed with the body of their lord. All of them attained to those regions of felicity which were his. The son of Pandu burnt the body of his uncle together with those four wives of his, using diverse kinds of scents and perfumed wood. As the funeral pyre blazed up, a loud sound was heard of the burning wood and other combustible materials, along with the clear chant of Samans and the wailing of the citizens and others who witnessed the rite. After it was all over, the boys of the Vrishni and Andhaka races, headed by Vajra, as also the ladies, offered oblations of water to the high-souled hero. "'Phalguna, who was careful in observing every duty, having caused this duty to be performed, proceeded, O chief of Bharata's race, next to the place where the Vrishnis were slaughtered. The Kuru prince, beholding them lying slaughtered all around, became exceedingly cheerless. He, however, did what was required to be done in view of that which had happened. The last rites were performed, according to the order of seniority, unto the bodies of those heroes slain by the iron bolts born, by virtue of the curse denounced by the Brahmanas, of the blades of Eraka grass. Searching out the bodies then of Rama and Vasudeva, Arjuna caused them to be burnt by persons skilled in that act. The son of Pandu, having next performed duly those sraddha rites that are done to the dead, quickly set out on the seventh day, mounting on his car. The widows of the Vrishni heroes, wailing aloud, followed the high-souled son of Pandu, Dhananjaya, on cars drawn by bullocks and mules and camels. All were in deep affliction. The servants of the Vrishnis, their horsemen, and their car-warriors too, followed the procession. The citizens and the inhabitants of the country, at the command of Pritha's son, set out at the same time and proceeded, surrounding that cavalcade destitute of heroes and numbering only women and the aged and the children. The warriors who fought from the backs of elephants proceeded on elephants as huge as hills. The foot-soldiers also set out, together with the reserves. The children of the Andhaka and the Vrishni races, all followed Arjuna. The Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, and Vaisyas, and wealthy Sudras, set out, keeping before them the 16,000 women that had formed Vasudeva's harem, and Vajra, the grandson of the intelligent Krishna. The widows of the other heroes of the Bhoja, the Vrishni, and the Andhaka races, lordless now, that set out with Arjuna, numbered many millions. That foremost of car-warriors, that conqueror of hostile towns, the son of Pritha, escorted this vast procession of Vrishnis, which still abounded with wealth, and which looked like a veritable ocean. "'After all the people had set out, the ocean, that home of sharks and alligators, flooded Dwaraka, which still teemed with wealth of every kind, with its waters. Whatever portion of the ground was passed over, ocean immediately flooded over with his waters. Beholding this wonderful sight, the inhabitants of Dwaraka walked faster and faster, saying, "Wonderful is the course of fate!" Dhananjaya, after abandoning Dwaraka, proceeded by slow marches, causing the Vrishni women to rest in pleasant forests and mountains and by the sides of delightful streams. Arrived at the country of the five waters, the puissant Dhananjaya planted a rich encampment in the midst of a land that abounded with corn and kine and other animals. Beholding those lordless widows escorted by Pritha's son alone O Bharata, the robbers felt a great temptation (for plunder). Then those sinful wretches, with hearts overwhelmed by cupidity, those Abhiras of ill omen, assembled together and held a consultation. They said, "Here there is only one bowman, Arjuna. The cavalcade consists of children and the old. He escorts them, transgressing us. The warriors (of the Vrishnis) are without energy." Then those robbers, numbering by thousands, and armed with clubs, rushed towards the procession of the Vrishnis, desirous of plunder. Urged by the perverse course of time they fell upon that vast concourse, frightening it with loud leonine shouts and desirous of slaughter. The son of Kunti, suddenly ceasing to advance along the path, turned, with his followers, towards the place where the robbers had attacked the procession. Smiling the while, that mighty-armed warrior addressed the assailants, saying, "You sinful wretches, forbear, if ye love your lives. Ye will rue this when I pierce your bodies with my shafts and take your lives." Though thus addressed by that hero, they disregarded his words, and though repeatedly dissuaded, they fell upon Arjuna. Then Arjuna endeavoured to string his large, indestructible, celestial bow with some effort. He succeeded with great difficulty in stringing it, when the battle had become furious. He then began to think of his celestial weapons but they would not come to his mind. Beholding that furious battle, the loss of the might of his arm, and the non-appearance of his celestial weapons, Arjuna became greatly ashamed. The Vrishni warriors including the foot-soldiers, the elephant-warriors, and the car-men, failed to rescue those Vrishni women that were being snatched away by the robbers. The concourse was very large. The robbers assailed it at different points. Arjuna tried his best to protect it, but could not succeed. In the very sight of all the warriors, many foremost of ladies were dragged away, while others went away with the robbers of their own accord. The puissant Arjuna, supported by the servants of the Vrishnis, struck the robbers with shafts sped from Gandiva. Soon, however, O king, his shafts were exhausted. In former days his shafts had been inexhaustible. Now, however, they proved otherwise. Finding his shafts exhausted, he became deeply afflicted with grief. The son of Indra then began to strike the robbers with the horns of his bow. Those Mlecchas, however, O Janamejaya, in the very sight of Partha, retreated, taking away with them many foremost ladies of the Vrishnis and Andhakas. The puissant Dhananjaya regarded it all as the work of destiny. Filled with sorrow he breathed heavy sighs at the thought of the non-appearance of his (celestial) weapons, the loss of the might of his arms, the refusal of his bow to obey him, and the exhaustion of his shafts. Regarding it all as the work of destiny, he became exceedingly cheerless. He then ceased, O king, to make further efforts, saying, he had not the power which he had before. The high-souled one, taking with him the remnant of the Vrishni women, and the wealth that was still with them, reached Kurukshetra. Thus bringing with him the remnant of the Vrishnis, he established them at different places. He established the son of Kritavarma at the city called Marttikavat, with the remnant of the women of the Bhoja king. Escorting the remainder, with children and old men and women, the son of Pandu established them, who were reft of heroes, in the city of Indraprastha. The dear son of Yuyudhana, with a company of old men and children and women, the righteous-souled Arjuna established on the banks of the Sarasvati. The rule of Indraprastha was given to Vajra. The widows of Akrura then desired to retire into the woods. Vajra asked them repeatedly to desist, but they did not listen to him. Rukmini, the princess of Gandhara, Saivya, Haimavati, and queen Jamvabati ascended the funeral pyre. Satyabhama and other dear wives of Krishna entered the woods, O king, resolved to set themselves to the practice of penances. They began to live on fruits and roots and pass their time in the contemplation of Hari. Going beyond the Himavat, they took up their abode in a place called Kalpa. Those men who had followed Arjuna from Dwaravati, were distributed into groups, and bestowed upon Vajra. Having done all these acts suited to the occasion, Arjuna, with eyes bathed in tears, then entered the retreat of Vyasa. There he beheld the Island-born Rishi seated at his ease.'" 8 "Vaishampayana said: 'As Arjuna entered the asylum of the truthful Rishi, he beheld the son of Satyavati seated in a secluded spot. "'Approaching that Rishi of high vows and endued with a knowledge of all duties, he said, "I am Arjuna," and then awaited his pleasure. Satyavati's son, endued with high penances, answered, saying "Welcome!" Of tranquil soul, the great Muni further said, "Take thy seat." Seeing that the son of Pritha was exceedingly cheerless and breathing heavy sighs repeatedly and filled with despair, Vyasa addressed him, saying, "Hast thou been sprinkled with water from anybody's nails or hair, or the end of anybody's cloth, or from the mouth of a jar? Hast thou had sexual congress with any woman before the cessation of her functional flow? Hast thou slain a Brahmana? Hast thou been vanquished in battle? Thou lookest like one shorn of prosperity. I do not know that thou hast been defeated by anyone. Why then, O chief of Bharata's race, this exceedingly dejected aspect? It behoveth thee, O son of Pritha, to tell me all, if, indeed, there be no harm in telling it." "'Arjuna said, "He whose complexion was like that of a (newly-risen) cloud, he whose eyes were like a pair of large lotus petals, Krishna, has, with Rama, cast off his body and ascended to Heaven. At Prabhasa, through iron bolts generated by the curse denounced by Brahmanas, the destruction has taken place of the Vrishni heroes. Awful hath that carnage been, and not even a single hero has escaped. The heroes of the Bhoja, the Andhaka, and the Vrishni races, O Brahmana, who were all endued with high souls, great might, and leonine pride, have slaughtered one another in battle. Possessed of arms that looked like maces of iron, and capable of bearing the strokes of heavy clubs and darts, alas, they have all been slain with blades of Eraka grass. Behold the perverse course of Time. 500,000 mighty-armed warriors have thus been laid low. Encountering one another, they have met with destruction. Thinking repeatedly of this carnage of the Yadava warriors of immeasurable energy and of the illustrious Krishna, I fail to derive peace of mind. The death of the wielder of Sarnga is as incredible as the drying up of the ocean, the displacement of a mountain, the falling down of the vault of heaven, or the cooling property of fire. Deprived of the company of the Vrishni heroes, I desire not to live in this world. Another incident has happened that is more painful than this, O thou that art possessed of wealth of penances. Repeatedly thinking of it, my heart is breaking. In my very sight, O Brahmana, thousands of Vrishni ladies were carried away by the Abhiras of the country of the five waters, who assailed us. Taking up my bow I found myself unequal to even string it. The might that had existed in my arms seemed to have disappeared on that occasion. O great ascetic, my weapons of diverse kinds failed to make their appearance. Soon, again, my shafts became exhausted. That person of immeasurable soul, of four arms, wielding the conch, the discus, and the mace, clad in yellow robes, dark of complexion, and possessing eyes resembling lotus-petals, is no longer seen by me. Alas, reft of Govinda, what have I to live for, dragging my life in sorrow? He who used to stalk in advance of my car, that divine form endued with great splendour and unfading puissance, consuming as he proceeded all hostile warriors, can no longer be seen by me. No longer beholding him who by his energy first burnt all hostile troops whom I afterwards despatched with shafts sped from Gandiva, I am filled with grief and my head swims, O best of men. Penetrated with cheerlessness and despair, I fail to obtain peace of mind. I dare not live, reft of the heroic Janardana. As soon as I heard that Vishnu had left the Earth, my eyes became dim and all things disappeared from my vision. O best of men, it behoveth thee to tell me what is good for me now, for I am now a wanderer with an empty heart, despoiled of my kinsmen and of my possession." "'Vyasa said, "The mighty car-warriors of the Vrishni and the Andhaka races have all been consumed by the Brahmana's curse. O chief of Kuru's race, it behoveth thee not to grieve for their destruction. That which has happened had been ordained. It was the destiny of those high-souled warriors. Krishna suffered it to take place although he was fully competent to baffle it. Govinda was able to alter the very course of the universe with all its mobile and immobile creatures. What need then be said of the curse of even high-souled Brahmanas? He who used to proceed in front of thy car, armed with discus and mace, through affection for thee, was the four-armed Vasudeva, that ancient rishi. That high-souled one of expansive eyes, Krishna, having lightened the burthen of the Earth and cast off his (human) body, has attained to his own high seat. By thee also, O foremost of men, with Bhima for thy helpmate and the twins, O mighty-armed hero, has the great work of the gods been accomplished. O foremost one of Kuru's race, I regard thee and thy brothers as crowned with success, for ye have accomplished the great purpose of your lives. The time has come for your departure from the world. Even this, O puissant one, is what is beneficial for you now. Even thus, understanding and prowess and foresight, O Bharata, arise when days of prosperity have not outrun. These very acquisitions disappear when the hour of adversity comes. All this has Time for its root. Time is, indeed, the seed of the universe, O Dhananjaya. It is Time, again, that withdraws everything at its pleasure. One becomes mighty, and, again, losing that might, becomes weak. One becomes a master and rules others, and, again, losing that position, becomes a servant for obeying the behests of others. Thy weapons, having achieved success, have gone away to the place they came from. They will, again, come into thy hands when the Time for their coming approaches. The time has come, O Bharata, for you all to attain to the highest goal. Even this is what I regard to be highly beneficial for you all, O chief of Bharata's race." "Vaishampayana continued: 'Having heard these words of Vyasa of immeasurable energy, the son of Pritha, receiving his permission, returned to the city named after the elephant. Entering it, the hero approached Yudhishthira and informed him of all that had taken place with reference to the Vrishnis.'" The end of Mausala-parva. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 17 Mahaprasthanika-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 Om! Having bowed down unto Narayana, and to Nara, the foremost of men, as also to the goddess Sarasvati, should the word "Jaya" be uttered. "Janamejaya said: 'Having heard of that encounter with iron bolts between the heroes of the Vrishni and the Andhaka races, and having been informed also of Krishna's ascension to Heaven, what did the Pandavas do?' "Vaishampayana said: 'Having heard the particulars of the great slaughter of the Vrishnis, the Kaurava king set his heart on leaving the world. He addressed Arjuna, saying, O thou of great intelligence, it is Time that cooks every creature (in his cauldron). I think that what has happened is due to the cords of Time (with which he binds us all). It behoveth thee also to see it. "'Thus addressed by his brother, the son of Kunti only repeated the word "Time, Time!" and fully endorsed the view of his eldest brother gifted with great intelligence. Ascertaining the resolution of Arjuna, Bhimasena and the twins fully endorsed the words that Arjuna had said. Resolved to retire from the world for earning merit, they brought Yuyutsu before them. Yudhishthira made over the kingdom to the son of his uncle by his Vaisya wife. Installing Parikshit also on their throne, as king, the eldest brother of the Pandavas, filled with sorrow, addressed Subhadra, saying, This son of thy son will be the king of the Kurus. The survivor of the Yadus, Vajra, has been made a king. Parikshit will rule in Hastinapura, while the Yadava prince, Vajra, will rule in Shakraprastha. He should be protected by thee. Never set thy heart on unrighteousness. "'Having said these words, king Yudhishthira the just, along with his brothers, promptly offered oblations of water unto Vasudeva of great intelligence, as also unto his old maternal uncle and Rama and others. He then duly performed the Sraddhas of all those deceased kinsmen of his. The king, in honour of Hari and naming him repeatedly, fed the Island-born Vyasa, and Narada, and Markandeya possessed of wealth of penances, and Yajnavalkya of Bharadwaja's race, with many delicious viands. In honour of Krishna, he also gave away many jewels and gems, and robes and clothes, and villages, and horses and cars, and female slaves by hundreds and thousands unto foremost of Brahmanas. Summoning the citizens, Kripa was installed as the preceptor and Parikshit was made over to him as his disciple, O chief of Bharata's race. "'Then Yudhishthira once more summoned all his subjects. The royal sage informed them of his intentions. The citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces, hearing the king's words, became filled with anxiety and disapproved of them. "This should never be done," said they unto the king. The monarch, well versed with the changes brought about by time, did not listen to their counsels. Possessed of righteous soul, he persuaded the people to sanction his views. He then set his heart on leaving the world. His brothers also formed the same resolution. Then Dharma's son, Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, casting off his ornaments, wore barks of trees. Bhima and Arjuna and the twins, and Draupadi also of great fame, similarly clad themselves in bark of trees, O king. Having caused the preliminary rites of religion, O chief of Bharata's race, which were to bless them in the accomplishment of their design, those foremost of men cast off their sacred fires into the water. The ladies, beholding the princes in that guise, wept aloud. They seemed to look as they had looked in days before, when with Draupadi forming the sixth in number they set out from the capital after their defeat at dice. The brothers, however, were all very cheerful at the prospect of retirement. Ascertaining the intentions of Yudhishthira and seeing the destruction of the Vrishnis, no other course of action could please them then. "'The five brothers, with Draupadi forming the sixth, and a dog forming the seventh, set out on their journey. Indeed, even thus did king Yudhishthira depart, himself the head of a party of seven, from the city named after the elephant. The citizens and the ladies of the royal household followed them for some distance. None of them, however, could venture to address the king for persuading him to give up his intention. The denizens of the city then returned; Kripa and others stood around Yuyutsu as their centre. Ulupi, the daughter of the Naga chief, O thou of Kunti's race, entered the waters of Ganga. The princess Chitrangada set out for the capital of Manipura. The other ladies who were the grandmothers of Parikshit centered around him. Meanwhile the high-souled Pandavas, O thou of Kuru's race, and Draupadi of great fame, having observed the preliminary fast, set out with their faces towards the east. Setting themselves on Yoga, those high-souled ones, resolved to observe the religion of Renunciation, traversed through various countries and reached diverse rivers and seas. Yudhishthira, proceeded first. Behind him was Bhima; next walked Arjuna; after him were the twins in the order of their birth; behind them all, O foremost one of Bharata's race, proceeded Draupadi, that first of women, possessed of great beauty, of dark complexion, and endued with eyes resembling lotus petals. While the Pandavas set out for the forest, a dog followed them. "'Proceeding on, those heroes reached the sea of red waters. Dhananjaya had not cast off his celestial bow Gandiva, nor his couple of inexhaustible quivers, actuated, O king, by the cupidity that attaches one to things of great value. The Pandavas there beheld the deity of fire standing before them like a hill. Closing their way, the god stood there in his embodied form. The deity of seven flames then addressed the Pandavas, saying, "Ye heroic sons of Pandu, know me for the deity of fire. O mighty-armed Yudhishthira, O Bhimasena that art a scorcher of foes, O Arjuna, and ye twins of great courage, listen to what I say! Ye foremost ones of Kuru's race, I am the god of fire. The forest of Khandava was burnt by me, through the puissance of Arjuna and of Narayana himself. Let your brother Phalguna proceed to the woods after casting off Gandiva, that high weapon. He has no longer any need of it. That precious discus, which was with the high-souled Krishna, has disappeared (from the world). When the time again comes, it will come back into his hands. This foremost of bows, Gandiva, was procured by me from Varuna for the use of Partha. Let it be made over to Varuna himself." "'At this, all the brothers urged Dhananjaya to do what the deity said. He then threw into the waters (of the sea) both the bow and the couple of inexhaustible quivers. After this, O chief of Bharata's race, the god of the fire disappeared then and there. The heroic sons of Pandu next proceeded with their faces turned towards the south. Then, by the northern coast of the salt sea, those princes of Bharata's race proceeded to the south-west. Turning next towards the west, they beheld the city of Dwaraka covered by the ocean. Turning next to the north, those foremost ones proceeded on. Observant of Yoga, they were desirous of making a round of the whole Earth.'" 2 "Vaishampayana said: 'Those princes of restrained souls and devoted to Yoga, proceeding to the north, beheld Himavat, that very large mountain. Crossing the Himavat, they beheld a vast desert of sand. They then saw the mighty mountain Meru, the foremost of all high-peaked mountains. As those mighty ones were proceeding quickly, all rapt in Yoga, Yajnaseni, falling of from Yoga, dropped down on the Earth. Beholding her fallen down, Bhimasena of great strength addressed king Yudhishthira the just, saying, "O scorcher of foes, this princess never did any sinful act. Tell us what the cause is for which Krishna has fallen down on the Earth!" "'Yudhishthira said: "O best of men, though we were all equal unto her she had great partiality for Dhananjaya. She obtains the fruit of that conduct today, O best of men."' "Vaishampayana continued: 'Having said this, that foremost one of Bharata's race proceeded on. Of righteous soul, that foremost of men, endued with great intelligence, went on, with mind intent on itself. Then Sahadeva of great learning fell down on the Earth. Beholding him drop down, Bhima addressed the king, saying, "He who with great humility used to serve us all, alas, why is that son of Madravati fallen down on the Earth?" "'Yudhishthira said, "He never thought anybody his equal in wisdom. It is for that fault that this prince has fallen down." "Vaishampayana continued: 'Having said this, the king proceeded, leaving Sahadeva there. Indeed, Kunti's son Yudhishthira went on, with his brothers and with the dog. Beholding both Krishna and the Pandava Sahadeva fallen down, the brave Nakula, whose love for kinsmen was very great, fell down himself. Upon the falling down of the heroic Nakula of great personal beauty, Bhima once more addressed the king, saying, "This brother of ours who was endued with righteousness without incompleteness, and who always obeyed our behests, this Nakula who was unrivalled for beauty, has fallen down." "'Thus addressed by Bhimasena, Yudhishthira said, with respect to Nakula, these words: "He was of righteous soul and the foremost of all persons endued with intelligence. He, however, thought that there was nobody that equalled him in beauty of person. Indeed, he regarded himself as superior to all in that respect. It is for this that Nakula has fallen down. Know this, O Vrikodara. What has been ordained for a person, O hero, must have to be endured by him." "'Beholding Nakula and the others fall down, Pandu's son Arjuna of white steeds, that slayer of hostile heroes, fell down in great grief of heart. When that foremost of men, who was endued with the energy of Shakra, had fallen down, indeed, when that invincible hero was on the point of death, Bhima said unto the king, "I do not recollect any untruth uttered by this high-souled one. Indeed, not even in jest did he say anything false. What then is that for whose evil consequence this one has fallen down on the Earth?" "'Yudhishthira said, "Arjuna had said that he would consume all our foes in a single day. Proud of his heroism, he did not, however, accomplish what he had said. Hence has he fallen down. This Phalguna disregarded all wielders of bows. One desirous of prosperity should never indulge in such sentiments."' "Vaishampayana continued: 'Having said so, the king proceeded on. Then Bhima fell down. Having fallen down, Bhima addressed king Yudhishthira the just, saying, "O king, behold, I who am thy darling have fallen down. For what reason have I dropped down? Tell me if thou knowest it." "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou wert a great eater, and thou didst use to boast of thy strength. Thou never didst attend, O Bhima, to the wants of others while eating. It is for that, O Bhima, that thou hast fallen down." "'Having said these words, the mighty-armed Yudhishthira proceeded on, without looking back. He had only one companion, the dog of which I have repeatedly spoken to thee, that followed him now.'" 3 "Vaishampayana said: 'Then Shakra, causing the firmament and the Earth to be filled by a loud sound, came to the son of Pritha on a car and asked him to ascend it. Beholding his brothers fallen on the Earth, king Yudhishthira the just said unto that deity of a 1,000 eyes these words: "My brothers have all dropped down here. They must go with me. Without them by me I do not wish to go to Heaven, O lord of all the deities. The delicate princess (Draupadi) deserving of every comfort, O Purandara, should go with us. It behoveth thee to permit this." "'Shakra said, "Thou shalt behold thy brothers in Heaven. They have reached it before thee. Indeed, thou shalt see all of them there, with Krishna. Do not yield to grief, O chief of the Bharatas. Having cast off their human bodies they have gone there, O chief of Bharata's race. As regards thee, it is ordained that thou shalt go thither in this very body of thine." "'Yudhishthira said, "This dog, O lord of the Past and the Present, is exceedingly devoted to me. He should go with me. My heart is full of compassion for him." "'Shakra said, "Immortality and a condition equal to mine, O king, prosperity extending in all directions, and high success, and all the felicities of Heaven, thou hast won today. Do thou cast off this dog. In this there will be no cruelty." "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou of a 1,000 eyes. O thou that art of righteous behaviour, it is exceedingly difficult for one that is of righteous behaviour to perpetrate an act that is unrighteous. I do not desire that union with prosperity for which I shall have to cast off one that is devoted to me." "'Indra said, "There is no place in Heaven for persons with dogs. Besides, the (deities called) Krodhavasas take away all the merits of such persons. Reflecting on this, act, O king Yudhishthira the just. Do thou abandon this dog. There is no cruelty in this." "'Yudhishthira said, "It has been said that the abandonment of one that is devoted is infinitely sinful. It is equal to the sin that one incurs by slaying a Brahmana. Hence, O great Indra, I shall not abandon this dog today from desire of my happiness. Even this is my vow steadily pursued, that I never give up a person that is terrified, nor one that is devoted to me, nor one that seeks my protection, saying that he is destitute, nor one that is afflicted, nor one that has come to me, nor one that is weak in protecting oneself, nor one that is solicitous of life. I shall never give up such a one till my own life is at an end." "'Indra said, "Whatever gifts, or sacrifices spread out, or libations poured on the sacred fire, are seen by a dog, are taken away by the Krodhavasas. Do thou, therefore, abandon this dog. By abandoning this dog thou wilt attain to the region of the deities. Having abandoned thy brothers and Krishna, thou hast, O hero, acquired a region of felicity by thy own deeds. Why art thou so stupefied? Thou hast renounced everything. Why then dost thou not renounce this dog?" Yudhishthira said, "This is well known in all the worlds that there is neither friendship nor enmity with those that are dead. When my brothers and Krishna died, I was unable to revive them. Hence it was that I abandoned them. I did not, however, abandon them as long as they were alive. To frighten one that has sought protection, the slaying of a woman, the theft of what belongs to a Brahmana, and injuring a friend, each of these four, O Shakra, is I think equal to the abandonment of one that is devoted."' "Vaishampayana continued: 'Hearing these words of king Yudhishthira the just, (the dog became transformed into) the deity of Righteousness, who, well pleased, said these words unto him in a sweet voice fraught with praise. "'Dharma said: "Thou art well born, O king of kings, and possessed of the intelligence and the good conduct of Pandu. Thou hast compassion for all creatures, O Bharata, of which this is a bright example. Formerly, O son, thou wert once examined by me in the woods of Dwaita, where thy brothers of great prowess met with (an appearance of) death. Disregarding both thy brothers Bhima and Arjuna, thou didst wish for the revival of Nakula from thy desire of doing good to thy (step-) mother. On the present occasion, thinking the dog to be devoted to thee, thou hast renounced the very car of the celestials instead of renouncing him. Hence, O king, there is no one in Heaven that is equal to thee. Hence, O Bharata, regions of inexhaustible felicity are thine. Thou hast won them, O chief of the Bharatas, and thine is a celestial and high goal."' "Vaishampayana continued: 'Then Dharma, and Shakra, and the Maruts, and the Ashvinis, and other deities, and the celestial Rishis, causing Yudhishthira to ascend on a car, proceeded to Heaven. Those beings crowned with success and capable of going everywhere at will, rode their respective cars. King Yudhishthira, that perpetuator of Kuru's race, riding on that car, ascended quickly, causing the entire welkin to blaze with his effulgence. Then Narada, that foremost of all speakers, endued with penances, and conversant with all the worlds, from amidst that concourse of deities, said these words: "All those royal sages that are here have their achievements transcended by those of Yudhishthira. Covering all the worlds by his fame and splendour and by his wealth of conduct, he has attained to Heaven in his own (human) body. None else than the son of Pandu has been heard to achieve this." "'Hearing these words of Narada, the righteous-souled king, saluting the deities and all the royal sages there present, said, "Happy or miserable, whatever the region be that is now my brothers', I desire to proceed to. I do not wish to go anywhere else." "'Hearing this speech of the king, the chief of the deities, Purandara, said these words fraught with noble sense: "Do thou live in this place, O king of kings, which thou hast won by thy meritorious deeds. Why dost thou still cherish human affections? Thou hast attained to great success, the like of which no other man has ever been able to attain. Thy brothers, O delighter of the Kurus, have succeeded in winning regions of felicity. Human affections still touch thee. This is Heaven. Behold these celestial Rishis and Siddhas who have attained to the region of the gods." "'Gifted with great intelligence, Yudhishthira answered the chief of the deities once more, saying, "O conqueror of Daityas, I venture not to dwell anywhere separated from them. I desire to go there, where my brothers have gone. I wish to go there where that foremost of women, Draupadi, of ample proportions and darkish complexion and endued with great intelligence and righteous of conduct, has gone."'" The end of Mahaprasthanika-parva. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 18 Svargarohanika-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 Om! Having bowed down into Narayana, and to Nara, the foremost of men, as also to the goddess Sarasvati, should the word "Jaya" be uttered. "Janamejaya said, 'Having attained to Heaven, what regions were respectively attained by my grandsires of old, viz., the Pandavas and the sons of Dhritarashtra? I desire to hear this. I think that thou art conversant with everything, having been taught by the great Rishi Vyasa of wonderful feats.' "Vaishampayana said, 'Listen now to what thy grandsires, Yudhishthira and others, did after having attained to Heaven, that place of the deities. Arrived at Heaven, king Yudhishthira the just, beheld Duryodhana endued with prosperity and seated on an excellent seat. He blazed with effulgence like the sun and wore all those signs of glory which belong to heroes. And he was in the company of many deities of blazing effulgence and of Sadhyas of righteous deeds. Yudhishthira, beholding Duryodhana and his prosperity, became suddenly filled with rage and turned back from the sight. "'He loudly addressed his companions, saying, "I do not desire to share regions of felicity with Duryodhana who was stained by cupidity and possessed of little foresight. It was for him that friends, and kinsmen, over the whole Earth were slaughtered by us whom he had afflicted greatly in the deep forest. It was for him that the virtuous princess of Panchala, Draupadi of faultless features, our wife, was dragged into the midst of the assembly before all our seniors. Ye gods, I have no desire to even behold Suyodhana. I wish to go there where my brothers are." "'Narada, smiling, told him, "It should not be so, O king of kings. While residing in Heaven, all enmities cease. O mighty-armed Yudhishthira, do not say so about king Duryodhana. Hear my words. Here is king Duryodhana. He is worshipped with the gods by those righteous men and those foremost of kings who are now denizens of Heaven. By causing his body to be poured as a libation on the fire of battle, he has obtained the end that consists in attainment of the region for heroes. You and your brothers, who were veritable gods on Earth, were always persecuted by this one. Yet through his observance of Kshatriya practices he has attained to this region. This lord of Earth was not terrified in a situation fraught with terror. "'"O son, thou shouldst not bear in mind the woes inflicted on thee on account of the match at dice. It behoveth thee not to remember the afflictions of Draupadi. It behoveth thee not to remember the other woes which were yours in consequence of the acts of your kinsmen, the woes, viz., that were due to battle or to other situations. Do thou meet Duryodhana now according to the ordinances of polite intercourse. This is Heaven, O lord of men. There can be no enmities here." "'Though thus addressed by Narada, the Kuru king Yudhishthira, endued with great intelligence, enquired about his brothers and said, "If these eternal regions reserved for heroes be Duryodhana's, that unrighteous and sinful wight, that man who was the destroyer of friends and of the whole world, that man for whose sake the entire Earth was devastated with all her horses and elephants and human beings, that wight for whose sake we were burnt with wrath in thinking of how best we might remedy our wrongs, I desire to see what regions have been attained by those high-souled heroes, my brothers of high vows, steady achievers of promises, truthful in speech, and distinguished for courage. The high-souled Karna, the son of Kunti, incapable of being baffled in battle, Dhrishtadyumna, Satyaki, the sons of Dhrishtadyumna and those other Kshatriyas who met with death in the observance of Kshatriya practices, where are those lords of Earth, O Brahmana? I do not see them here, O Narada. I desire to see, O Narada, Virata and Drupada and the other great Kshatriyas headed by Dhrishtaketu, as also Shikhandi, the Panchala prince, the sons of Draupadi, and Abhimanyu, irresistible in battle."'" 2 "'Yudhishthira said, "Ye deities, I do not see here Radha's son of immeasurable prowess, as also my high-souled brothers, and Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas, those great car-warriors that poured their bodies (as libations) on the fire of battle, those kings and princes that met with death for my sake in battle. Where are those great car-warriors that possessed the prowess of tigers? Have those foremost of men acquired this region? If those great car-warriors have obtained these regions, then only do you know, ye gods, that I shall reside here with those high-souled ones. If this auspicious and eternal region has not been acquired by those kings, then know, ye gods, that without those brothers and kinsmen of mine, I shall not live here. At the time of performing the water rites (after the battle), I heard my mother say, 'Do thou offer oblations of water unto Karna.' Since hearing those words of my mother, I am burning with grief. I grieve also incessantly at this, ye gods, that when I marked the resemblance between the feet of my mother and those of Karna of immeasurable soul, I did not immediately place myself under orders of that afflicter of hostile ranks. Ourselves joined with Karna, Shakra himself would have been unable to vanquish in battle. Wherever may that child of Surya be, I desire to see him. Alas, his relationship with us being unknown, I caused him to be slain by Arjuna. Bhima also of terrible prowess and dearer to me than my life-breaths, Arjuna too, resembling Indra himself, the twins also that resembled the Destroyer himself in prowess, I desire to behold. I wish to see the princess of Panchala, whose conduct was always righteous. I wish not to stay here. I tell you the truth. Ye foremost ones among the deities, what is Heaven to me if I am dissociated from my brothers? That is Heaven where those brothers of mine are. This, in my opinion, is not Heaven." "'The gods said, "If thou longest to be there, go then, O son, without delay. At the command of the chief of the deities, we are ready to do what is agreeable to thee."' "Vaishampayana continued: 'Having said so, the gods then ordered the celestial messenger, O scorcher of foes, saying, "Do thou show unto Yudhishthira his friends and kinsmen." Then the royal son of Kunti and the celestial messenger proceeded together, O foremost of kings, to that place where those chiefs of men (whom Yudhishthira had wished to see) were. The celestial messenger proceeded first, the king followed him behind. The path was inauspicious and difficult and trodden by men of sinful deeds. It was enveloped in thick darkness, and covered with hair and moss forming its grassy vesture. Polluted with the stench of sinners, and miry with flesh and blood, it abounded with gadflies and stinging bees and gnats and was endangered by the inroads of grisly bears. Rotting corpses lay here and there. Overspread with bones and hair, it was noisome with worms and insects. It was skirted all along with a blazing fire. It was infested by crows and other birds and vultures, all having beaks of iron, as also by evil spirits with long mouths pointed like needles. And it abounded with inaccessible fastnesses like the Vindhya mountains. Human corpses were scattered over it, smeared with fat and blood, with arms and thighs cut off, or with entrails torn out and legs severed. "'Along that path so disagreeable with the stench of corpses and awful with other incidents, the righteous-souled king proceeded, filled with diverse thoughts. He beheld a river full of boiling water and, therefore, difficult to cross, as also a forest of trees whose leaves were sharp swords and razors. There were plains full of fine white sand exceedingly heated, and rocks and stones made of iron. There were many jars of iron all around, with boiling oil in them. Many a Kuta-salmalika was there, with sharp thorns and, therefore, exceedingly painful to the touch. The son of Kunti beheld also the tortures inflicted upon sinful men. "'Beholding that inauspicious region abounding with every sort of foulness, Yudhishthira asked the celestial messenger, saying, "How far shall we proceed along a path like this? It behoveth thee to tell me where those brothers of mine are. I desire also to know what region is this of the gods?" "'Hearing these words of king Yudhishthira the just, the celestial messenger stopped in his course and replied, saying, "Thus far is your way. The denizens of Heaven commanded me that having come thus far, I am to stop. If thou art tired, O king of kings, thou mayst return with me." "'Yudhishthira, however, was exceedingly disconsolate and stupefied by the foul odour. Resolved to return, O Bharata, he retraced his steps. Afflicted by sorrow and grief, the righteous-souled monarch turned back. Just at that moment he heard piteous lamentations all around, "O son of Dharma, O royal sage, O thou of sacred origin, O son of Pandu, do thou stay a moment for favouring us. At thy approach, O invincible one, a delightful breeze hath begun to blow, bearing the sweet scent of thy person. Great hath been our relief at this. O foremost of kings, beholding thee, O first of men, great hath been our happiness. O son of Pritha, let that happiness last longer through thy stay here, for a few moments more. Do thou remain here, O Bharata, for even a short while. As long as thou art here, O thou of Kuru's race, torments cease to afflict us." These and many similar words, uttered in piteous voices by persons in pain, the king heard in that region, wafted to his ears from every side. "'Hearing those words of beings in woe, Yudhishthira of compassionate heart exclaimed aloud, "Alas, how painful!" And the king stood still. The speeches of those woe-begone and afflicted persons seemed to the son of Pandu to be uttered in voices that he had heard before although he could not recognise them on that occasion. "'Unable to recognise voices, Dharma's son, Yudhishthira, enquired, saying, "Who are you? Why also do you stay here?" "'Thus addressed, they answered him from all sides, saying, "I am Karna!" "I am Bhimasena!" "I am Arjuna!" "I am Nakula!" "I am Sahadeva!" "I am Dhrishtadyumna!" "I am Draupadi!" "We are the sons of Draupadi!" Even thus, O king, did those voices speak. "'Hearing those exclamations, O king, uttered in voices of pain suitable to that place, the royal Yudhishthira asked himself, "What perverse destiny is this? What are those sinful acts which were committed by those high-souled beings, Karna and the sons of Draupadi, and the slender-waisted princess of Panchala, so that their residence has been assigned in this region of foetid smell and great woe? I am not aware of any transgression that can be attributed to these persons of righteous deeds. What is that act by doing which Dhritarashtra's son, king Suyodhana, with all his sinful followers, has become invested with such prosperity? Endued with prosperity like that of the great Indra himself, he is highly adored. What is that act through the consequence of which these (high-souled ones) have fallen into Hell? All of them were conversant with every duty, were heroes, were devoted to truth and the Vedas; were observant of Kshatriya practices; were righteous in their acts; were performers of sacrifices; and givers of large presents unto brahmanas. Am I asleep or awake? Am I conscious or unconscious? Or, is all this a mental delusion due to disorders of the brain?" "'Overwhelmed by sorrow and grief, and with his senses agitated by anxiety, king Yudhishthira indulged in such reflections for a long time. The royal son of Dharma then gave way to great wrath. Indeed, Yudhishthira then censured the gods, as also Dharma himself. Afflicted by the very foul odour, he addressed the celestial messenger, saying, "Return to the presence of those whose messenger thou art. Tell them that I shall not go back to where they are, but shall stay even here, since, in consequence of my companionship, these afflicted brothers of mine have become comforted." Thus addressed by the intelligent son of Pandu, the celestial messenger returned to the place where the chief of the deities was, viz., he of a hundred sacrifices. He represented unto him the acts of Yudhishthira. Indeed, O ruler of men, he informed Indra of all that Dharma's son had said.'" 3 "Vaishampayana said, 'King Yudhishthira the just, the son of Pritha, had not stayed there for more than a moment when, O thou of Kuru's race, all the gods with Indra at their head came to that spot. The deity of Righteousness in his embodied form also came to that place where the Kuru king was, for seeing that monarch. Upon the advent of those deities of resplendent bodies and sanctified and noble deeds, the darkness that had overwhelmed that region immediately disappeared. The torments undergone by beings of sinful deeds were no longer seen. The river Vaitarani, the thorny Salmali, the iron jars, and the boulders of rock, so terrible to behold, also vanished from sight. The diverse repulsive corpses also, which the Kuru king had seen, disappeared at the same time. Then a breeze, delicious and fraught with pleasant perfumes, perfectly pure and delightfully cool, O Bharata, began to blow on that spot in consequence of the presence of the gods. The Maruts, with Indra, the Vasus with the twin Ashvinis, the Sadhyas, the Rudras, the Adityas, and the other denizens of Heaven, as also the Siddhas and the great Rishis, all came there where Dharma's royal son of great energy was. "'Then Shakra, the lord of the deities, endued with blazing prosperity, addressed Yudhishthira and comforting him, said, "O Yudhishthira of mighty arms, come, come, O chief of men. These illusions have ended, O puissant one. Success has been attained by thee, O mighty-armed one, and eternal regions (of felicity) have become thine. Thou shouldst not yield to wrath. Listen to these words of mine. Hell, O son, should without doubt be beheld by every king. Of both good and bad there is abundance, O chief of men. He who enjoys first the fruits of his good acts must afterwards endure Hell. He, on the other hand, who first endures Hell, must afterwards enjoy Heaven. He whose sinful acts are many enjoys Heaven first. It is for this, O king, that desirous of doing thee good, I caused thee to be sent for having a view of Hell. Thou hadst, by a pretence, deceived Drona in the matter of his son. Thou hast, in consequence thereof, been shown Hell by an act of deception. After the manner of thyself, Bhima and Arjuna, and Draupadi, have all been shown the place of sinners by an act of deception. Come, O chief of men, all of them have been cleansed of their sins. All those kings who had aided thee and who have been slain in battle, have all attained to Heaven. Come and behold them, O foremost one of Bharata's race. "'"Karna, the mighty bowman, that foremost of all wielders of weapons for whom thou art grieving, has also attained to high success. Behold, O puissant one, that foremost of men, viz., the son of Surya. He is in that place which is his own, O mighty-armed one. Kill this grief of thine, O chief of men. Behold thy brothers and others, those kings, that is, who had espoused thy side. They have all attained to their respective places (of felicity). Let the fever of thy heart be dispelled. Having endured a little misery first, from this time, O son of Kuru's race, do thou sport with me in happiness, divested of grief and all thy ailments dispelled. O mighty-armed one, do thou now enjoy, O king, the rewards of all thy deeds of righteousness of those regions which thou hast acquired thyself by thy penances and of all thy gifts. Let deities and Gandharvas, and celestial Apsaras, decked in pure robes and excellent ornaments, wait upon and serve thee for thy happiness. Do thou, O mighty-armed one, enjoy now those regions (of felicity) which have become thine through the Rajasuya sacrifice performed by thee and whose felicities have been enhanced by the sacrificial scimitar employed by thee. Let the high fruits of thy penances be enjoyed by thee. Thy regions, O Yudhishthira, are above those of kings. They are equal to those of Hariscandra, O son of Pritha. Come, and sport there in bliss. There where the royal sage Mandhatri is, there where king Bhagiratha is, there where Dushmanta's son Bharata is, there wilt thou sport in bliss. Here is the celestial river, sacred and sanctifying the three worlds. It is called Heavenly Ganga. Plunging into it, thou wilt go to thy own regions. Having bathed in this stream, thou wilt be divested of thy human nature. Indeed, thy grief dispelled, thy ailments conquered, thou wilt be freed from all enmities." "'While, O Kuru king, the chief of the gods was saying so unto Yudhishthira, the deity of Righteousness, in his embodied form, then addressed his own son and said, "O king, I am greatly pleased, O thou of great wisdom, with thee, O son, by thy devotion to me, by thy truthfulness of speech, and forgiveness, and self-restraint. This, indeed, is the third test, O king, to which I put thee. Thou art incapable, O son of Pritha, of being swerved from thy nature or reason. Before this, I had examined thee in the Dwaita woods by my questions, when thou hadst come to that lake for recovering a couple of fire sticks. Thou stoodst it well. Assuming the shape of a dog, I examined thee once more, O son, when thy brothers with Draupadi had fallen down. This has been thy third test; thou hast expressed thy wish to stay at Hell for the sake of thy brothers. Thou hast become cleansed, O highly blessed one. Purified of sin, be thou happy. "'"O son of Pritha, thy brothers, O king, were not such as to deserve Hell. All this has been an illusion created by the chief of the gods. Without doubt, all kings, O son, must once behold Hell. Hence hast thou for a little while been subjected to this great affliction. O king, neither Arjuna, nor Bhima, nor any of those foremost of men, viz., the twins, nor Karna, ever truthful in speech and possessed of great courage, could be deserving of Hell for a long time. The princess Krishna too, O Yudhishthira, could not be deserving of that place of sinners. Come, come, O foremost one of the Bharatas, behold Ganga who spreads her current over the three worlds." "'Thus addressed, that royal sage, viz., thy grandsire, proceeded with Dharma and all the other gods. Having bathed in the celestial river Ganga, sacred and sanctifying and ever adored by the Rishis, he cast off his human body. Assuming then a celestial form, king Yudhishthira the just, in consequence of that bath, became divested of all his enmities and grief. Surrounded by the deities, the Kuru king Yudhishthira then proceeded from that spot. He was accompanied by Dharma, and the great Rishis uttered his praises. Indeed, he reached that place where those foremost of men, those heroes, viz., the Pandavas and the Dhartarashtras, freed from (human) wrath, were enjoying each his respective status.'" 4 "Vaishampayana said, 'King Yudhishthira, thus praised by the gods, the Maruts and the Rishis, proceeded to that place where those foremost ones of Kuru's race were. He beheld Govinda endued with his Brahma-form. It resembled that form of his which had been seen before and which, therefore, helped the recognition. Blazing forth in that form of his, he was adorned with celestial weapons, such as the terrible discus and others in their respective embodied forms. He was being adored by the heroic Phalguna, who also was endued with a blazing effulgence. The son of Kunti beheld the slayer of Madhu also in his own form. Those two foremost of Beings, adored by all the gods, beholding Yudhishthira, received him with proper honours. "'In another place, the delighter of the Kurus beheld Karna, that foremost one among all wielders of weapons, resembling a dozen Suryas in splendour. In another part he beheld Bhimasena of great puissance, sitting in the midst of the Maruts, and endued with a blazing form. He was sitting by the side of the God of Wind in his embodied form. Indeed, he was then in a celestial form endued with great beauty, and had attained to the highest success. In the place belonging to the Ashvinis, the delighter of the Kurus beheld Nakula and Sahadeva, each blazing with his own effulgence. "'He also beheld the princess of Panchala, decked in garlands of lotuses. Having attained to Heaven, she was sitting there, endued with a form possessed of solar splendour. King Yudhishthira suddenly wished to question her. Then the illustrious Indra, the chief of the gods, spoke to him, "This one is Sree herself. It was for your sake that she took birth, as the daughter of Drupada, among human beings, issuing not from any mother's womb, O Yudhishthira, endued with agreeable perfume and capable of delighting the whole world. For your pleasure, she was created by the wielder of the trident. She was born in the race of Drupada and was enjoyed by you all. These five highly blessed Gandharvas endued with the effulgence of fire, and possessed of great energy, were, O king, the sons of Draupadi and yourself. "'"Behold Dhritarashtra, the king of the Gandharvas, possessed of great wisdom. Know that this one was the eldest brother of thy sire. This one is thy eldest brother, the son of Kunti, endued with effulgence of fire. The son of Surya, thy eldest brother, the foremost of men, even this one was known as the son of Radha. He moves in the company of Surya. Behold this foremost of Beings. Among the tribes of the Saddhyas, the gods, the Viswedevas, and the Maruts, behold, O king of kings, the mighty car-warriors of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, viz., those heroes having Satyaki for their first, and those mighty ones among the Bhojas. Behold the son of Subhadra, invincible in battle, now staying with Soma. Even he is the mighty bowman Abhimanyu, now endued with the gentle effulgence of the great luminary of the night. Here is the mighty bowman Pandu, now united with Kunti and Madri. Thy sire frequently comes to me on his excellent car. Behold the royal Bhishma, the son of Santanu, now in the midst of the Vasus. Know that this one by the side of Brihaspati is thy preceptor Drona. These and other kings, O son of Pandu, who had warred on thy side now walk with the Gandharvas or Yakshas or other sacred beings. Some have attained to the status of Guhyakas, O king. Having cast off their bodies, they have conquered Heaven by the merit they had acquired through word, thought and deed."'" 5 "Janamejaya said, 'Bhishma and Drona, those two high-souled persons, king Dhritarashtra, and Virata and Drupada, and Sankha and Uttara, Dhrishtaketu and Jayatsena and king Satyajit, the sons of Duryodhana, and Shakuni the son of Subala, Karna's sons of great prowess, king Jayadratha, Ghatotkaca and others whom thou hast not mentioned, the other heroic kings of blazing forms, tell me for what period they remained in Heaven. O foremost of regenerate persons, was theirs an eternal place in Heaven? What was the end attained to by those foremost of men when their acts came to an end? I desire to hear this, O foremost of regenerate persons, and therefore have I asked thee. Through thy blazing penances thou seest all things."' Sauti said: "Thus questioned, that regenerate Rishi, receiving the permission of the high-souled Vyasa, set himself to answer the question of the king. "Vaishampayana said, 'Every one, O king of men, is not capable of returning to his own nature at the end of his deeds. Whether this is so or not, is, indeed a good question asked by thee. Hear, O king, this which is a mystery of the gods, O chief of Bharata's race. It was explained (to us) by Vyasa of mighty energy, celestial vision and great prowess, that ancient ascetic, O Kauravya, who is the son of Parasara and who always observes high vows, who is of immeasurable understanding, who is omniscient, and who, therefore knows the end attached to all acts. "'Bhishma of mighty energy and great effulgence attained to the status of the Vasus. Eight Vasus, O chief of Bharata's race, are now seen. Drona entered into Brihaspati, that foremost one of Angirasa's descendants. Hridika's son Kritavarma entered the Maruts. Pradyumna entered Sanatkumara whence he had issued. Dhritarashtra obtained the regions, so difficult of acquisition, that belong to the Lord of treasures. The famous Gandhari obtained the same regions with her husband Dhritarashtra. With his two wives, Pandu proceeded to the abode of the great Indra. Both Virata and Drupada, the king Dhrishtaketu, as also Nishatha, Akrura, Samva, Bhanukampa, and Viduratha, and Bhurishrava and Sala and king Bhuri, and Kansa, and Ugrasena, and Vasudeva, and Uttara, that foremost of men, with his brother Sankha, all these foremost of persons entered the deities. Soma's son of great prowess, named Varchas of mighty energy, became Abhimanyu, the son of Phalguna, that lion among men. Having fought, agreeably to Kshatriya practices, with bravery such as none else had ever been able to show, that mighty-armed and righteous-souled being entered Soma. Slain on the field of battle, O foremost of men, Karna entered Surya. Shakuni obtained absorption into Dwapara, and Dhrishtadyumna into the deity of fire. The sons of Dhritarashtra were all Rakshasas of fierce might. Sanctified by death caused by weapons, those high-souled beings of prosperity all succeeded in attaining to Heaven. Both Kshattri and king Yudhishthira entered into the god of Righteousness. The holy and illustrious Ananta (who had taken birth as Balarama) proceeded to the region below the Earth. Through the command of the Grandsire, he, aided by his Yoga power, supported the Earth. Vasudeva was a portion of that eternal god of gods called Narayana. Accordingly, he entered into Narayana. 16,000 women had been married to Vasudeva as his wives. When the time came, O Janamejaya, they plunged into the Sarasvati. Casting off their (human) bodies there, they re-ascended to Heaven. Transformed into Apsaras, they approached the presence of Vasudeva. Those heroic and mighty car-warriors, Ghatotkaca and others, who were slain in the great battle, attained to the status, some of gods and some of Yakshas. Those that had fought on the side of Duryodhana are said to have been Rakshasas. Gradually, O king, they have all attained to excellent regions of felicity. Those foremost of men have proceeded, some to the abode of Indra, some to that of Kuvera of great intelligence, and some to that of Varuna. I have now told thee, O thou of great splendour, everything about the acts, O Bharata, of both the Kurus and the Pandavas.'" Sauti said: "Hearing this, ye foremost of regenerate ones, at the intervals of sacrificial rites, king Janamejaya became filled with wonder. The sacrificial priests then finished the rites that remained to be gone through. Astika, having rescued the snakes (from fiery death), became filled with joy. King Janamejaya then gratified all the Brahmanas with copious presents. Thus worshipped by the king, they returned to their respective abodes. Having dismissed those learned Brahmanas, king Janamejaya came back from Takshasila to the city named after the elephant. "I have now told everything that Vaishampayana narrated, at the command of Vyasa, unto the king at his snake sacrifice. Called a history, it is sacred, sanctifying and excellent. It has been composed by the ascetic Krishna, O Brahmana, of truthful speech. He is omniscient, conversant with all ordinances, possessed of a knowledge of all duties, endued with piety, capable of perceiving what is beyond the ken of the senses, pure, having a soul cleansed by penances, possessed of the six high attributes, and devoted to Sankhya Yoga. He has composed this, beholding everything with a celestial eye that has been cleansed (strengthened) by varied lore. He has done this, desiring to spread the fame, throughout the world, of the high-souled Pandavas, as also of other Kshatriyas possessed of abundant wealth of energy. "That learned man who recites this history of sacred days in the midst of a listening auditory becomes cleansed of every sin, conquers Heaven, and attains to the status of Brahma. Of that man who listens with rapt attention to the recitation of the whole of this Veda composed by (the Island-born) Krishna, a million sins, numbering such grave ones as Brahmanicide and the rest, are washed off. The Pitris of that man who recites even a small portion of this history at a Sraddha, obtain inexhaustible food and drink. The sins that one commits during the day by one's senses or the mind are all washed off before evening by reciting a portion of the Mahabharata. Whatever sins a Brahmana may commit at night in the midst of women are all washed off before dawn by reciting a portion of the Mahabharata. "The high race of the Bharatas is its topic. Hence it is called Bharata. And because of its grave import, as also of the Bharatas being its topic, it is called Mahabharata. He who is versed in interpretations of this great treatise, becomes cleansed of every sin. Such a man lives in righteousness, wealth, and pleasure, and attains to Emancipation also, O chief of Bharata's race. "That which occurs here occurs elsewhere. That which does not occur here occurs nowhere else. This history is known by the name of Jaya. It should be heard by every one desirous of Emancipation. It should be read by Brahmanas, by kings, and by women quick with children. He that desires Heaven attains to Heaven; and he that desires victory attains to victory. The woman quick with child gets either a son or a daughter highly blessed. The puissant Island-born Krishna, who will not have to come back, and who is Emancipation incarnate, made an abstract of the Bharata, moved by the desire of aiding the cause of righteousness. He made another compilation consisting of sixty lakhs of verses. Thirty lakhs of these were placed in the region of the deities. In the region of the Pitris fifteen lakhs, it should be known, are current; while in that of the Yakshas fourteen lakhs are in vogue. One lakh is current among human beings. "Narada recited the Mahabharata to the gods; Asita-Devala to the Pitris; Suka to the Rakshasas and the Yakshas; and Vaishampayana to human beings. This history is sacred, and of high import, and regarded as equal to the Vedas. That man, O Saunaka, who hears this history, placing a Brahmana before him, acquires both fame and the fruition of all his wishes. He who, with fervid devotion, listens to a recitation of the Mahabharata, attains (hereafter) to high success in consequence of the merit that becomes his through understanding even a very small portion thereof. All the sins of that man who recites or listens to this history with devotion are washed off. "In former times, the great Rishi Vyasa, having composed this treatise, caused his son Suka to read it with him, along with these four Verses. Thousands of mothers and fathers, and hundreds of sons and wives arise in the world and depart from it. Others will (arise and) similarly depart. There are thousands of occasions for joy and hundreds of occasions for fear. These affect only him that is ignorant but never him that is wise. With uplifted arms I am crying aloud but nobody hears me. From Righteousness is Wealth as also Pleasure. Why should not Righteousness, therefore, be courted? For the sake neither of pleasure, nor of fear, nor of cupidity should any one cast off Righteousness. Indeed, for the sake of even life one should not cast off Righteousness. Righteousness is eternal. Pleasure and Pain are not eternal. Jiva is eternal. The cause, however, of Jiva's being invested with a body is not so. "That man who, waking up at dawn, reads this Savittri of the Bharata, acquires all the rewards attached to a recitation of this history and ultimately attains to the highest Brahma. As the sacred Ocean, as the Himavat mountain, are both regarded as mines of precious gems, even so is this Bharata (regarded as a mine of precious gems). The man of learning, by reciting to others this Veda or Agama composed by (the Island-born) Krishna, earns wealth. There is no doubt in this that he who, with rapt attention, recites this history called Bharata, attains to high success. What need has that man of a sprinkling of the waters of Pushkara who attentively listens to this Bharata, while it is recited to him? It represents the nectar that fell from the lips of the Island-born. It is immeasurable, sacred, sanctifying, sin-cleansing, and auspicious." 6 "Janamejaya said, 'O holy one, according to what rites should the learned listen to the Bharata? What are the fruits (acquirable by hearing it)? What deities are to be worshipped during the several paranas? What should be the gifts that one should make, O holy one, at every parva or sacred day (during the continuance of the recitation)? What should be the qualification of the reciter to be engaged? Tell me all this!' "Vaishampayana said, 'Hear, O king, what the procedure is, and what the fruits, O Bharata, are that will spring from ones listening (to a recitation of the Bharata). Even this, O king of kings, is what thou askest me. The deities of Heaven, O ruler of Earth, came to this world for sport. Having achieved their task, they ascended once more to Heaven. Listen to what I shall tell thee in brief. In the Mahabharata is to be found the births of Rishis and deities on the Earth. In this treatise, called Bharata, O foremost one of Bharata's race, are to be seen in one place the eternal Rudras, the Saddhyas, and the Viswedevas; the Adityas, the two deities named the Ashvinis, the regents of the World, the great Rishis, the Guhyakas, the Gandharvas, the Nagas, the Vidyadharas, the Siddhas, the diverse deities, the Self-born visible in a body, with many ascetics; the Hills and Mountains, Oceans and Seas and Rivers, the diverse tribes of Apsaras; the Planets, the Years, the Half-years, and the Seasons; and the whole universe of mobile and immobile entities, with all the gods and Asuras. "'Hearing their celebrity, and in consequence of a recitation of their names and achievements, a man that has committed even terrible sins, will be cleansed. Having, with a concentrated soul and cleansed body, heard this history duly, from the beginning, and having reached its end, one should make Sraddha offerings, O Bharata, unto those (foremost of persons who have been mentioned in it). Unto the Brahmanas also, O chief of Bharata's race, should, with due devotion and according to ones power, be made large gifts and diverse kinds of gems, and kine, and vessels of white brass for milking kine, and maidens decked with every ornament, and possessed of every accomplishment suited to enjoyment, as also diverse kinds of conveyances, beautiful mansions, plots of land, and cloths. Animals also should be given, such as horses and elephants in rage, and beds, and covered conveyances borne on the shoulders of men, and well-decked cars. Whatever objects occur in the house, of the foremost kind, whatever wealth of great value occurs in it, should be given away unto Brahmanas. Indeed, one should give away one's own self, wives, and children. "'One desirous of hearing the Bharata, should hear it without a doubting heart, with cheerfulness and joy; and as he proceeds listening to its recitation, he should according to the extent of his power, make gifts with great devotion. "'Hear how a person that is devoted to truth and sincerity, that is self-restrained, pure (in mind), and observant of those acts which lead to purity of body, that is endued with faith, and that has subjugated wrath, attains to success (in the matter of a recitation of the Bharata). He should appoint as reciter one that is pure (of body), that is endued with good and pious conduct, that should be robed in white, that should have a complete mastery over his passions, that is cleansed of all offences, that is conversant with every branch of learning, that is endued with faith, that is free from malice, that is possessed of handsome features, that is blessed, self-restrained, truthful, and with passions under control, and that is beloved of all for the gifts he makes and the honours of which he is the possessor. "'The reciter, seated at his ease, free from all bodily complaints, and with rapt attention, should recite the text without too much slowness, without a labouring voice, without being fast or quick, quietly, with sufficient energy, without confusing the letters and words together, in a sweet intonation and with such accent and emphasis as would indicate the sense giving full utterance to the three and sixty letters of the alphabet from the eight places of their formation. Bowing unto Narayana, and to Nara, that foremost of men, as also to the goddess Sarasvati, should the word Jaya be uttered. "'Listening to the Bharata, O king, when recited, O thou of Bharata's race, by a reader of this kind, the listener, observant of vows all the while and cleansed by purificatory rites, acquires valuable fruits. When the first Parana is reached, the hearer should gratify Brahmanas with presents of all desirable objects. By doing this, one obtains the fruits of the Agnishtoma sacrifice. He acquires a large (celestial) car teeming with diverse orders of Apsaras (that wait upon him). With a glad heart, and with the deities in his company, he proceeds to Heaven, his heart rapt (in felicity). "'When the second Parana is reached, the hearer acquires the fruits of the Atiratra vow. Indeed, he ascends a celestial car made entirely of precious gems. Wearing celestial garlands and robes, and decked with celestial unguents and always shedding a celestial fragrance around, he receives high honours in Heaven. "'When the third Parana is reached, he acquires the fruits of the Dwadasaha vow. Indeed he resides in Heaven for myriads of years, like a god. "'At the fourth Parana he acquires the fruits of the Vajapeya sacrifice. "'At the fifth, twice those fruits are his. Ascending a celestial car that resembles the rising sun or a blazing fire, and with the deities for his companions, he goes to Heaven and sports in felicity for myriads of years in the abode of Indra. "'At the sixth Parana, twice, and at the seventh, thrice those fruits become his. Ascending a celestial car that resembles the summit of the Kailasa mountains (in beauty), that is equipt with an altar made of stones of lapis lazuli and other precious gems, that is surrounded by beautiful objects of diverse kinds, that is decked with gems and corals, that moves at the will of the rider, and that teems with waiting Apsaras, he roves through all the regions of felicity, like a second deity of the Sun. "'At the eight Parana, he acquires the fruits of the Rajasuya sacrifice. He ascends a car as beautiful as the rising moon, and unto which are yoked steeds white as the rays of the moon and endued with the speed of thought. He is served by women of the foremost beauty and whose faces are more charming than the moon. He hears the music of the garlands that encircle their waists and the Nupuras encircling their ankles. Sleeping with his head resting on the laps of women of transcendent beauty, he awakes greatly refreshed. "'At the ninth Parana, he acquires, O Bharata, the fruits of that foremost of sacrifices, viz., the Horse-sacrifice. Ascending on a car equipt with a chamber consisting of a top supported by columns of gold, furnished with a seat made of stones of lapis lazuli, with windows on all sides made of pure gold, and teeming with waiting Apsaras and Gandharvas and other celestials, he blazes forth in splendour. Wearing celestial garlands and robes, and decked with celestial unguents, he sports in bliss, with deities for his companions, in Heaven, like a second deity himself. "'Reaching the tenth Parana and gratifying Brahmanas, he acquires a car which tinkles with innumerable bells, which is decked with flags and banners, which is equipt with a seat made of precious gems, which has many arches made of lapis lazuli, which has a net-work of gold all round, which has turrets made of corals, which is adorned with Gandharvas and Apsaras well-skilled in singing, and which is fit for the residence of the Righteous. Crowned with a diadem of the complexion of fire, decked with ornaments of gold, his person smeared with celestial sandal paste, garnished with celestial wreaths, he roves through all celestial regions, enjoying all celestial objects of enjoyment, and endued with great splendour, through the grace of the deities. "'Thus accoutred, he receives high honours in Heaven for many long years. With Gandharvas in his company, for full 21,000 years, he sports in bliss with Indra himself in abode of Indra. He roves at pleasure every day through the diverse regions of the gods, riding on celestial cars and conveyances, and surrounded by celestial damsels of transcendent beauty. He is able to go to the abode of the solar deity, of the lunar deity, and of Siva, O king. Indeed, he succeeds in living in the same region with Vishnu himself. It is even so, O monarch. There is no doubt in this. A person listening with faith, becomes even so. My preceptor has said this. Unto the reciter should be given all such objects as he may wish. Elephants and steeds and cars and conveyances, especially animals and the vehicles they draw, a bracelet of gold, a pair of ear-rings, sacred threads, beautiful robes, and perfumes in especial (should be given). By worshipping him as a deity one attains to the regions of Vishnu. "'After this I shall declare what should be given away, as each parva is reached of the Bharata in course of its recitation, unto brahmanas, after ascertaining their birth, country, truthfulness, and greatness, O chief of Bharata's race, as also their inclination for piety, and unto Kshatriyas too, O king, after ascertainment of similar particulars. Causing the Brahmanas to utter benedictions, the business of recitation should be begun. When a parva is finished, the brahmanas should be worshipped to the best of one's power. At first, the reciter, clad in good robes and smeared with perfumed paste, should, O king, be duly fed with honey and frumenty of the best kind. "'When the Astika-parva is being recited, brahmanas should be entertained with fruits and roots, and frumenty, and honey and clarified butter, and rice boiled with raw sugar. "'When the Sabha-parva is being recited, brahmanas should be fed with habisya along with apupas and pupas and modakas, O king. "'When the Aranyaka-parva is being recited, superior brahmanas should be fed with fruits and roots. "'When the Arani-parva is reached, water-pots full of water should be given away. Many superior kinds of delicious food, also rice and fruits and roots, and food possessed of every agreeable attribute, should be presented unto the brahmanas. "'During the recitation of the Virata-parva diverse kinds of robes should be given away; and during that of the Udyoga-parva, O chief of the Bharatas, the twice-born ones, after being decked with perfumes and garlands, should be entertained with food possessed of every agreeable quality. "'During the recitation of the Bhishma-parva, O king of kings, after giving them excellent cars and conveyances, food should be given that is pure and well-cooked and possessed of every desirable attribute. "'During the Drona-parva food of very superior kind should be given to learned brahmanas, as also beds, O monarch, and bows and good swords. "'During the recitation of the Karna-parva, food of the foremost kind, besides being pure and well-cooked, should be presented unto the brahmanas by the house-holder with rapt mind. "'During the recitation of the Shalya-parva, O king of kings, food with confectionery and rice boiled with raw sugar, as also cakes of wheat and soothing and nutritive viands and drinks should be presented. "'During the recitation of the Gada-parva, brahmanas should be entertained with food mixed with mudga. "'During the recitation of the Stri-parva, foremost of brahmanas should be entertained with gems and precious stones; and during the recitation of the Aishika-parva, rice boiled in ghee should first be given, and then food pure and well-cooked, and possessed of every desirable quality, should be presented. "'During the recitation of the Shanti-parva, the brahmanas should be fed with havisya. "'When the Asvamedhika-parva is reached, food possessed of every agreeable quality should be given; and when the Asramvasika is reached, brahmanas should be entertained with havisya. "'When the Mausala is reached, scents and garlands possessed of agreeable qualities should be given away. "'During the Mahaprasthanika, similar presents should be made, possessed of every quality of an agreeable kind. "'When the Svarga-parva is reached, the brahmanas should be fed with havisya. "'Upon the conclusion of the Harivansa, a 1,000 brahmanas should be fed. Unto each of them should be presented a cow accompanied with a piece of gold. Half of this should be presented to each poor man, O king. "'Upon the conclusion of all the Parvas, the house-holder of wisdom should give unto the reciter a copy of the Mahabharata with a piece of gold. When the Harivansa Parva is being recited, Brahmanas should be fed with frumenty at each successive Parana, O king. Having finished all the Parvas, one versed in the scriptures, robing himself in white, wearing garlands, decked with ornaments, and properly purified, should place a copy of the Mahabharata on an auspicious spot and cover it with a piece of silken cloth and worship it, according to due rites, with scents and garlands, offering each at a time. Indeed, O king, the several volumes of this treatise should be worshipped by one with devotion and concentrated mind. Offerings should be made unto them of diverse kinds of food and garlands and drinks and diverse auspicious articles of enjoyment. Gold and other precious metals should be given as Dakshina. The names should then be taken of all the deities as also of Nara and Narayana. Then, adorning the persons of some foremost of Brahmanas with scents and garlands, they should be gratified with diverse kinds of gifts of enjoyable and very superior or costly articles. By doing this, one attains to the merits of the Atiratra sacrifice. Indeed, at each successive Parva, he acquires the merits that attach to the performance of a sacrifice. The reciter, O chief of the Bharatas, should be possessed of learning and endued with a good voice and a clear utterance respecting both letters and words. Even such a man should, O chief of the Bharatas, recite the Bharata. After entertaining a number of foremost Brahmanas, presents should be made unto them according to the ordinances. The reciter also, O chief of the Bharatas, should be decked with ornaments and fed sumptuously. The reciter being gratified, the house-holder attains to an excellent and auspicious contentment. If the Brahmanas are gratified, all the deities are gratified. After this, O chief of the Bharatas, Brahmanas should be duly entertained with diverse kinds of enjoyable articles and superior things. "'I have thus indicated the ordinances, O foremost of men, (about the manner of reciting these scriptures) in answer to thy enquiries. Thou shouldst observe them with faith. In listening to a recitation of the Bharata and at each Parana, O best of kings, one that desires to attain to the highest good should listen with the greatest care and attention. One should listen to the Bharata every day. One should proclaim the merits of the Bharata every day. One in whose house the Bharata occurs, has in his hands all those scriptures which are known by the name of Jaya. The Bharata is cleansing and sacred. In the Bharata are diverse topics. The Bharata is worshipped by the very gods. The Bharata is the highest goal. The Bharata, O chief of the Bharatas, is the foremost of all scriptures. One attains to Emancipation through the Bharata. This that I tell thee is certain truth. One that proclaims the merits of this history called the Mahabharata, of the Earth, of the cow, of Sarasvati (the goddess of speech), of Brahmanas, and of Keshava, has never to languish. "'In the Vedas, in the Ramayana, and in the sacred Bharata, O chief of Bharata's race, Hari is sung in the beginning, the middle, and at the end. That in which occur excellent statements relating to Vishnu, and the eternal Srutis, should be listened to by men desirous of attaining to the highest goal. This treatise is sanctifying. This is the highest indicator as regards duties; this is endued with every merit. One desirous of prosperity should listen to it. Sins committed by means of the body, by means of words, and by means of the mind, are all destroyed (through listening to the Bharata) as Darkness at sunrise. One devoted to Vishnu acquires (through this) that merit which is acquired by listening to the eighteen Puranas. There is no doubt in this. Men and women (by listening to this) would certainly attain to the status of Vishnu. Women desirous of having children should certainly listen to this which proclaims the fame of Vishnu. One desirous of attaining to the fruits that attach to a recitation of the Bharata should, according to one's power, give unto the reciter Dakshina, as also an honorarium in gold. One desirous of one's own good should give unto the reciter a Kapila cow with horns cased in gold and accompanied by her calf, covered with a cloth. Ornaments, O chief of Bharatas race, for the arms, as also those for the ears, should be given. Besides these, other kinds of wealth should be presented. Unto the reciter, O king of men, gift of land should be made. No gift like that of land could ever be or will be. The man that listens (to the Bharata) or that recites it to other people, becomes cleansed of all his sins and attains at last to the status of Vishnu. Such a man rescues his ancestors to the eleventh degree, as also himself with his wives and sons, O chief of Bharata's race. After concluding a recitation of the Bharata, one should, O king, perform a Homa with all its ten parts. "'I have thus, O chief of men, told everything in thy presence. He that listens with devotion to this Bharata from the beginning becomes cleansed of every sin even if he be guilty of Brahmanicide or the violation of his preceptor's bed, or even if he be a drinker of alcohol or a robber of other people's wares, or even if he be born in the Chandala order. Destroying all his sins like the maker of day destroying darkness, such a man, without doubt, sports in felicity in the region of Vishnu like Vishnu himself.'" The End of the Svargarohanika-parva The Eighteen parvas of the Mahabharata are thus complete. 
7166	----	Original html version created at eldritchpress.org by Eric Eldred. This eBook was produced by Chetan Jain, Viswas G and Anand Rao at Bharat Literature The Home and the World Rabindranath Tagore [1861-1941] Translated [from Bengali to English] by Surendranath Tagore London: Macmillan, 1919 [published in India, 1915, 1916] [Frontispiece: --see woman.jpg] Chapter One Bimala's Story I MOTHER, today there comes back to mind the vermilion mark [1] at the parting of your hair, the __sari__ [2] which you used to wear, with its wide red border, and those wonderful eyes of yours, full of depth and peace. They came at the start of my life's journey, like the first streak of dawn, giving me golden provision to carry me on my way. The sky which gives light is blue, and my mother's face was dark, but she had the radiance of holiness, and her beauty would put to shame all the vanity of the beautiful. Everyone says that I resemble my mother. In my childhood I used to resent this. It made me angry with my mirror. I thought that it was God's unfairness which was wrapped round my limbs--that my dark features were not my due, but had come to me by some misunderstanding. All that remained for me to ask of my God in reparation was, that I might grow up to be a model of what woman should be, as one reads it in some epic poem. When the proposal came for my marriage, an astrologer was sent, who consulted my palm and said, "This girl has good signs. She will become an ideal wife." And all the women who heard it said: "No wonder, for she resembles her mother." I was married into a Rajah's house. When I was a child, I was quite familiar with the description of the Prince of the fairy story. But my husband's face was not of a kind that one's imagination would place in fairyland. It was dark, even as mine was. The feeling of shrinking, which I had about my own lack of physical beauty, was lifted a little; at the same time a touch of regret was left lingering in my heart. But when the physical appearance evades the scrutiny of our senses and enters the sanctuary of our hearts, then it can forget itself. I know, from my childhood's experience, how devotion is beauty itself, in its inner aspect. When my mother arranged the different fruits, carefully peeled by her own loving hands, on the white stone plate, and gently waved her fan to drive away the flies while my father sat down to his meals, her service would lose itself in a beauty which passed beyond outward forms. Even in my infancy I could feel its power. It transcended all debates, or doubts, or calculations: it was pure music. I distinctly remember after my marriage, when, early in the morning, I would cautiously and silently get up and take the dust [3] of my husband's feet without waking him, how at such moments I could feel the vermilion mark upon my forehead shining out like the morning star. One day, he happened to awake, and smiled as he asked me: "What is that, Bimala? What __are__ you doing?" I can never forget the shame of being detected by him. He might possibly have thought that I was trying to earn merit secretly. But no, no! That had nothing to do with merit. It was my woman's heart, which must worship in order to love. My father-in-law's house was old in dignity from the days of the __Badshahs__. Some of its manners were of the Moguls and Pathans, some of its customs of Manu and Parashar. But my husband was absolutely modern. He was the first of the house to go through a college course and take his M.A. degree. His elder brother had died young, of drink, and had left no children. My husband did not drink and was not given to dissipation. So foreign to the family was this abstinence, that to many it hardly seemed decent! Purity, they imagined, was only becoming in those on whom fortune had not smiled. It is the moon which has room for stains, not the stars. My husband's parents had died long ago, and his old grandmother was mistress of the house. My husband was the apple of her eye, the jewel on her bosom. And so he never met with much difficulty in overstepping any of the ancient usages. When he brought in Miss Gilby, to teach me and be my companion, he stuck to his resolve in spite of the poison secreted by all the wagging tongues at home and outside. My husband had then just got through his B.A. examination and was reading for his M.A. degree; so he had to stay in Calcutta to attend college. He used to write to me almost every day, a few lines only, and simple words, but his bold, round handwriting would look up into my face, oh, so tenderly! I kept his letters in a sandalwood box and covered them every day with the flowers I gathered in the garden. At that time the Prince of the fairy tale had faded, like the moon in the morning light. I had the Prince of my real world enthroned in my heart. I was his queen. I had my seat by his side. But my real joy was, that my true place was at his feet. Since then, I have been educated, and introduced to the modern age in its own language, and therefore these words that I write seem to blush with shame in their prose setting. Except for my acquaintance with this modern standard of life, I should know, quite naturally, that just as my being born a woman was not in my own hands, so the element of devotion in woman's love is not like a hackneyed passage quoted from a romantic poem to be piously written down in round hand in a school-girl's copy-book. But my husband would not give me any opportunity for worship. That was his greatness. They are cowards who claim absolute devotion from their wives as their right; that is a humiliation for both. His love for me seemed to overflow my limits by its flood of wealth and service. But my necessity was more for giving than for receiving; for love is a vagabond, who can make his flowers bloom in the wayside dust, better than in the crystal jars kept in the drawing-room. My husband could not break completely with the old-time traditions which prevailed in our family. It was difficult, therefore, for us to meet at any hour of the day we pleased. [4] I knew exactly the time that he could come to me, and therefore our meeting had all the care of loving preparation. It was like the rhyming of a poem; it had to come through the path of the metre. After finishing the day's work and taking my afternoon bath, I would do up my hair and renew my vermilion mark and put on my __sari__, carefully crinkled; and then, bringing back my body and mind from all distractions of household duties, I would dedicate it at this special hour, with special ceremonies, to one individual. That time, each day, with him was short; but it was infinite. My husband used to say, that man and wife are equal in love because of their equal claim on each other. I never argued the point with him, but my heart said that devotion never stands in the way of true equality; it only raises the level of the ground of meeting. Therefore the joy of the higher equality remains permanent; it never slides down to the vulgar level of triviality. My beloved, it was worthy of you that you never expected worship from me. But if you had accepted it, you would have done me a real service. You showed your love by decorating me, by educating me, by giving me what I asked for, and what I did not. I have seen what depth of love there was in your eyes when you gazed at me. I have known the secret sigh of pain you suppressed in your love for me. You loved my body as if it were a flower of paradise. You loved my whole nature as if it had been given you by some rare providence. Such lavish devotion made me proud to think that the wealth was all my own which drove you to my gate. But vanity such as this only checks the flow of free surrender in a woman's love. When I sit on the queen's throne and claim homage, then the claim only goes on magnifying itself; it is never satisfied. Can there be any real happiness for a woman in merely feeling that she has power over a man? To surrender one's pride in devotion is woman's only salvation. It comes back to me today how, in the days of our happiness, the fires of envy sprung up all around us. That was only natural, for had I not stepped into my good fortune by a mere chance, and without deserving it? But providence does not allow a run of luck to last for ever, unless its debt of honour be fully paid, day by day, through many a long day, and thus made secure. God may grant us gifts, but the merit of being able to take and hold them must be our own. Alas for the boons that slip through unworthy hands! My husband's grandmother and mother were both renowned for their beauty. And my widowed sister-in-law was also of a beauty rarely to be seen. When, in turn, fate left them desolate, the grandmother vowed she would not insist on having beauty for her remaining grandson when he married. Only the auspicious marks with which I was endowed gained me an entry into this family-- otherwise, I had no claim to be here. In this house of luxury, but few of its ladies had received their meed of respect. They had, however, got used to the ways of the family, and managed to keep their heads above water, buoyed up by their dignity as __Ranis__ of an ancient house, in spite of their daily tears being drowned in the foam of wine, and by the tinkle of the "dancing girls" anklets. Was the credit due to me that my husband did not touch liquor, nor squander his manhood in the markets of woman's flesh? What charm did I know to soothe the wild and wandering mind of men? It was my good luck, nothing else. For fate proved utterly callous to my sister-in-law. Her festivity died out, while yet the evening was early, leaving the light of her beauty shining in vain over empty halls--burning and burning, with no accompanying music! His sister-in-law affected a contempt for my husband's modern notions. How absurd to keep the family ship, laden with all the weight of its time-honoured glory, sailing under the colours of his slip of a girl-wife alone! Often have I felt the lash of scorn. "A thief who had stolen a husband's love!" "A sham hidden in the shamelessness of her new-fangled finery!" The many-coloured garments of modern fashion with which my husband loved to adorn me roused jealous wrath. "Is not she ashamed to make a show-window of herself--and with her looks, too!" My husband was aware of all this, but his gentleness knew no bounds. He used to implore me to forgive her. I remember I once told him: "Women's minds are so petty, so crooked!" "Like the feet of Chinese women," he replied. "Has not the pressure of society cramped them into pettiness and crookedness? They are but pawns of the fate which gambles with them. What responsibility have they of their own?" My sister-in-law never failed to get from my husband whatever she wanted. He did not stop to consider whether her requests were right or reasonable. But what exasperated me most was that she was not grateful for this. I had promised my husband that I would not talk back at her, but this set me raging all the more, inwardly. I used to feel that goodness has a limit, which, if passed, somehow seems to make men cowardly. Shall I tell the whole truth? I have often wished that my husband had the manliness to be a little less good. My sister-in-law, the Bara Rani, [5] was still young and had no pretensions to saintliness. Rather, her talk and jest and laugh inclined to be forward. The young maids with whom she surrounded herself were also impudent to a degree. But there was none to gainsay her--for was not this the custom of the house? It seemed to me that my good fortune in having a stainless husband was a special eyesore to her. He, however, felt more the sorrow of her lot than the defects of her character. ------ 1. The mark of Hindu wifehood and the symbol of all the devotion that it implies. 2. The __sari__ is the dress of the Hindu woman. 3. Taking the dust of the feet is a formal offering of reverence and is done by lightly touching the feet of the revered one and then one's own head with the same hand. The wife does not ordinarily do this to the husband. 4. It would not be reckoned good form for the husband to be continually going into the zenana, except at particular hours for meals or rest. 5. __Bara__ = Senior; __Chota__ = Junior. In joint families of rank, though the widows remain entitled only to a life-interest in their husbands' share, their rank remains to them according to seniority, and the titles "Senior" and "Junior" continue to distinguish the elder and younger branches, even though the junior branch be the one in power. II My husband was very eager to take me out of __purdah__. [6] One day I said to him: "What do I want with the outside world?" "The outside world may want you," he replied. "If the outside world has got on so long without me, it may go on for some time longer. It need not pine to death for want of me." "Let it perish, for all I care! That is not troubling me. I am thinking about myself." "Oh, indeed. Tell me what about yourself?" My husband was silent, with a smile. I knew his way, and protested at once: "No, no, you are not going to run away from me like that! I want to have this out with you." "Can one ever finish a subject with words?" "Do stop speaking in riddles. Tell me..." "What I want is, that I should have you, and you should have me, more fully in the outside world. That is where we are still in debt to each other." "Is anything wanting, then, in the love we have here at home?" "Here you are wrapped up in me. You know neither what you have, nor what you want." "I cannot bear to hear you talk like this." "I would have you come into the heart of the outer world and meet reality. Merely going on with your household duties, living all your life in the world of household conventions and the drudgery of household tasks--you were not made for that! If we meet, and recognize each other, in the real world, then only will our love be true." "If there be any drawback here to our full recognition of each other, then I have nothing to say. But as for myself, I feel no want." "Well, even if the drawback is only on my side, why shouldn't you help to remove it?" Such discussions repeatedly occurred. One day he said: "The greedy man who is fond of his fish stew has no compunction in cutting up the fish according to his need. But the man who loves the fish wants to enjoy it in the water; and if that is impossible he waits on the bank; and even if he comes back home without a sight of it he has the consolation of knowing that the fish is all right. Perfect gain is the best of all; but if that is impossible, then the next best gain is perfect losing." I never liked the way my husband had of talking on this subject, but that is not the reason why I refused to leave the zenana. His grandmother was still alive. My husband had filled more than a hundred and twenty per cent of the house with the twentieth century, against her taste; but she had borne it uncomplaining. She would have borne it, likewise, if the daughter-in-law [7] of the Rajah's house had left its seclusion. She was even prepared for this happening. But I did not consider it important enough to give her the pain of it. I have read in books that we are called "caged birds". I cannot speak for others, but I had so much in this cage of mine that there was not room for it in the universe--at least that is what I then felt. The grandmother, in her old age, was very fond of me. At the bottom of her fondness was the thought that, with the conspiracy of favourable stars which attended me, I had been able to attract my husband's love. Were not men naturally inclined to plunge downwards? None of the others, for all their beauty, had been able to prevent their husbands going headlong into the burning depths which consumed and destroyed them. She believed that I had been the means of extinguishing this fire, so deadly to the men of the family. So she kept me in the shelter of her bosom, and trembled if I was in the least bit unwell. His grandmother did not like the dresses and ornaments my husband brought from European shops to deck me with. But she reflected: "Men will have some absurd hobby or other, which is sure to be expensive. It is no use trying to check their extravagance; one is glad enough if they stop short of ruin. If my Nikhil had not been busy dressing up his wife there is no knowing whom else he might have spent his money on!" So whenever any new dress of mine arrived she used to send for my husband and make merry over it. Thus it came about that it was her taste which changed. The influence of the modern age fell so strongly upon her, that her evenings refused to pass if I did not tell her stories out of English books. After his grandmother's death, my husband wanted me to go and live with him in Calcutta. But I could not bring myself to do that. Was not this our House, which she had kept under her sheltering care through all her trials and troubles? Would not a curse come upon me if I deserted it and went off to town? This was the thought that kept me back, as her empty seat reproachfully looked up at me. That noble lady had come into this house at the age of eight, and had died in her seventy-ninth year. She had not spent a happy life. Fate had hurled shaft after shaft at her breast, only to draw out more and more the imperishable spirit within. This great house was hallowed with her tears. What should I do in the dust of Calcutta, away from it? My husband's idea was that this would be a good opportunity for leaving to my sister-in-law the consolation of ruling over the household, giving our life, at the same time, more room to branch out in Calcutta. That is just where my difficulty came in. She had worried my life out, she ill brooked my husband's happiness, and for this she was to be rewarded! And what of the day when we should have to come back here? Should I then get back my seat at the head? "What do you want with that seat?" my husband would say. "Are there not more precious things in life?" Men never understand these things. They have their nests in the outside world; they little know the whole of what the household stands for. In these matters they ought to follow womanly guidance. Such were my thoughts at that time. I felt the real point was, that one ought to stand up for one's rights. To go away, and leave everything in the hands of the enemy, would be nothing short of owning defeat. But why did not my husband compel me to go with him to Calcutta? I know the reason. He did not use his power, just because he had it. ------ 6. The seclusion of the zenana, and all the customs peculiar to it, are designated by the general term "Purdah", which means Screen. 7. The prestige of the daughter-in-law is of the first importance in a Hindu household of rank [Trans.]. III IF one had to fill in, little by little, the gap between day and night, it would take an eternity to do it. But the sun rises and the darkness is dispelled--a moment is sufficient to overcome an infinite distance. One day there came the new era of __Swadeshi__ [8] in Bengal; but as to how it happened, we had no distinct vision. There was no gradual slope connecting the past with the present. For that reason, I imagine, the new epoch came in like a flood, breaking down the dykes and sweeping all our prudence and fear before it. We had no time even to think about, or understand, what had happened, or what was about to happen. My sight and my mind, my hopes and my desires, became red with the passion of this new age. Though, up to this time, the walls of the home--which was the ultimate world to my mind--remained unbroken, yet I stood looking over into the distance, and I heard a voice from the far horizon, whose meaning was not perfectly clear to me, but whose call went straight to my heart. From the time my husband had been a college student he had been trying to get the things required by our people produced in our own country. There are plenty of date trees in our district. He tried to invent an apparatus for extracting the juice and boiling it into sugar and treacle. I heard that it was a great success, only it extracted more money than juice. After a while he came to the conclusion that our attempts at reviving our industries were not succeeding for want of a bank of our own. He was, at the time, trying to teach me political economy. This alone would not have done much harm, but he also took it into his head to teach his countrymen ideas of thrift, so as to pave the way for a bank; and then he actually started a small bank. Its high rate of interest, which made the villagers flock so enthusiastically to put in their money, ended by swamping the bank altogether. The old officers of the estate felt troubled and frightened. There was jubilation in the enemy's camp. Of all the family, only my husband's grandmother remained unmoved. She would scold me, saying: "Why are you all plaguing him so? Is it the fate of the estate that is worrying you? How many times have I seen this estate in the hands of the court receiver! Are men like women? Men are born spendthrifts and only know how to waste. Look here, child, count yourself fortunate that your husband is not wasting himself as well!" My husband's list of charities was a long one. He would assist to the bitter end of utter failure anyone who wanted to invent a new loom or rice-husking machine. But what annoyed me most was the way that Sandip Babu [9] used to fleece him on the pretext of __Swadeshi__ work. Whenever he wanted to start a newspaper, or travel about preaching the Cause, or take a change of air by the advice of his doctor, my husband would unquestioningly supply him with the money. This was over and above the regular living allowance which Sandip Babu also received from him. The strangest part of it was that my husband and Sandip Babu did not agree in their opinions. As soon as the __Swadeshi__ storm reached my blood, I said to my husband: "I must burn all my foreign clothes." "Why burn them?" said he. "You need not wear them as long as you please." "As long as I please! Not in this life ..." "Very well, do not wear them for the rest of your life, then. But why this bonfire business?" "Would you thwart me in my resolve?" "What I want to say is this: Why not try to build up something? You should not waste even a tenth part of your energies in this destructive excitement." "Such excitement will give us the energy to build." "That is as much as to say, that you cannot light the house unless you set fire to it." Then there came another trouble. When Miss Gilby first came to our house there was a great flutter, which afterwards calmed down when they got used to her. Now the whole thing was stirred up afresh. I had never bothered myself before as to whether Miss Gilby was European or Indian, but I began to do so now. I said to my husband: "We must get rid of Miss Gilby." He kept silent. I talked to him wildly, and he went away sad at heart. After a fit of weeping, I felt in a more reasonable mood when we met at night. "I cannot," my husband said, "look upon Miss Gilby through a mist of abstraction, just because she is English. Cannot you get over the barrier of her name after such a long acquaintance? Cannot you realize that she loves you?" I felt a little ashamed and replied with some sharpness: "Let her remain. I am not over anxious to send her away." And Miss Gilby remained. But one day I was told that she had been insulted by a young fellow on her way to church. This was a boy whom we were supporting. My husband turned him out of the house. There was not a single soul, that day, who could forgive my husband for that act--not even I. This time Miss Gilby left of her own accord. She shed tears when she came to say good-bye, but my mood would not melt. To slander the poor boy so--and such a fine boy, too, who would forget his daily bath and food in his enthusiasm for __Swadeshi__. My husband escorted Miss Gilby to the railway station in his own carriage. I was sure he was going too far. When exaggerated accounts of the incident gave rise to a public scandal, which found its way to the newspapers, I felt he had been rightly served. I had often become anxious at my husband's doings, but had never before been ashamed; yet now I had to blush for him! I did not know exactly, nor did I care, what wrong poor Noren might, or might not, have done to Miss Gilby, but the idea of sitting in judgement on such a matter at such a time! I should have refused to damp the spirit which prompted young Noren to defy the Englishwoman. I could not but look upon it as a sign of cowardice in my husband, that he should fail to understand this simple thing. And so I blushed for him. And yet it was not that my husband refused to support __Swadeshi__, or was in any way against the Cause. Only he had not been able whole-heartedly to accept the spirit of __Bande Mataram__. [10] "I am willing," he said, "to serve my country; but my worship I reserve for Right which is far greater than my country. To worship my country as a god is to bring a curse upon it." ------ 8. The Nationalist movement, which began more as an economic than a political one, having as its main object the encouragement of indigenous industries [Trans.]. 9. "Babu" is a term of respect, like "Father" or "Mister," but has also meant in colonial days a person who understands some English. [on-line ed.] 10. Lit.: "Hail Mother"; the opening words of a song by Bankim Chatterjee, the famous Bengali novelist. The song has now become the national anthem, and __Bande Mataram__ the national cry, since the days of the __Swadeshi__ movement [Trans.]. Chapter Two Bimala's Story IV THIS was the time when Sandip Babu with his followers came to our neighbourhood to preach __Swadeshi__. There is to be a big meeting in our temple pavilion. We women are sitting there, on one side, behind a screen. Triumphant shouts of __Bande Mataram__ come nearer: and to them I am thrilling through and through. Suddenly a stream of barefooted youths in turbans, clad in ascetic ochre, rushes into the quadrangle, like a silt-reddened freshet into a dry river-bed at the first burst of the rains. The whole place is filled with an immense crowd, through which Sandip Babu is borne, seated in a big chair hoisted on the shoulders of ten or twelve of the youths. __Bande Mataram! Bande Mataram! Bande Mataram__! It seems as though the skies would be rent and scattered into a thousand fragments. I had seen Sandip Babu's photograph before. There was something in his features which I did not quite like. Not that he was bad- looking--far from it: he had a splendidly handsome face. Yet, I know not why, it seemed to me, in spite of all its brilliance, that too much of base alloy had gone into its making. The light in his eyes somehow did not shine true. That was why I did not like it when my husband unquestioningly gave in to all his demands. I could bear the waste of money; but it vexed me to think that he was imposing on my husband, taking advantage of friendship. His bearing was not that of an ascetic, nor even of a person of moderate means, but foppish all over. Love of comfort seemed to ... any number of such reflections come back to me today, but let them be. When, however, Sandip Babu began to speak that afternoon, and the hearts of the crowd swayed and surged to his words, as though they would break all bounds, I saw him wonderfully transformed. Especially when his features were suddenly lit up by a shaft of light from the slowly setting sun, as it sunk below the roof-line of the pavilion, he seemed to me to be marked out by the gods as their messenger to mortal men and women. From beginning to end of his speech, each one of his utterances was a stormy outburst. There was no limit to the confidence of his assurance. I do not know how it happened, but I found I had impatiently pushed away the screen from before me and had fixed my gaze upon him. Yet there was none in that crowd who paid any heed to my doings. Only once, I noticed, his eyes, like stars in fateful Orion, flashed full on my face. I was utterly unconscious of myself. I was no longer the lady of the Rajah's house, but the sole representative of Bengal's womanhood. And he was the champion of Bengal. As the sky had shed its light over him, so he must receive the consecration of a woman's benediction ... It seemed clear to me that, since he had caught sight of me, the fire in his words had flamed up more fiercely. Indra's [11] steed refused to be reined in, and there came the roar of thunder and the flash of lightning. I said within myself that his language had caught fire from my eyes; for we women are not only the deities of the household fire, but the flame of the soul itself. I returned home that evening radiant with a new pride and joy. The storm within me had shifted my whole being from one centre to another. Like the Greek maidens of old, I fain would cut off my long, resplendent tresses to make a bowstring for my hero. Had my outward ornaments been connected with my inner feelings, then my necklet, my armlets, my bracelets, would all have burst their bonds and flung themselves over that assembly like a shower of meteors. Only some personal sacrifice, I felt, could help me to bear the tumult of my exaltation. When my husband came home later, I was trembling lest he should utter a sound out of tune with the triumphant paean which was still ringing in my ears, lest his fanaticism for truth should lead him to express disapproval of anything that had been said that afternoon. For then I should have openly defied and humiliated him. But he did not say a word ... which I did not like either. He should have said: "Sandip has brought me to my senses. I now realize how mistaken I have been all this time." I somehow felt that he was spitefully silent, that he obstinately refused to be enthusiastic. I asked how long Sandip Babu was going to be with us. "He is off to Rangpur early tomorrow morning," said my husband. "Must it be tomorrow?" "Yes, he is already engaged to speak there." I was silent for a while and then asked again: "Could he not possibly stay a day longer?" "That may hardly be possible, but why?" "I want to invite him to dinner and attend on him myself." My husband was surprised. He had often entreated me to be present when he had particular friends to dinner, but I had never let myself be persuaded. He gazed at me curiously, in silence, with a look I did not quite understand. I was suddenly overcome with a sense of shame. "No, no," I exclaimed, "that would never do!" "Why not!" said he. "I will ask him myself, and if it is at all possible he will surely stay on for tomorrow." It turned out to be quite possible. I will tell the exact truth. That day I reproached my Creator because he had not made me surpassingly beautiful--not to steal any heart away, but because beauty is glory. In this great day the men of the country should realize its goddess in its womanhood. But, alas, the eyes of men fail to discern the goddess, if outward beauty be lacking. Would Sandip Babu find the __Shakti__ of the Motherland manifest in me? Or would he simply take me to be an ordinary, domestic woman? That morning I scented my flowing hair and tied it in a loose knot, bound by a cunningly intertwined red silk ribbon. Dinner, you see, was to be served at midday, and there was no time to dry my hair after my bath and do it up plaited in the ordinary way. I put on a gold-bordered white __sari__, and my short-sleeve muslin jacket was also gold-bordered. I felt that there was a certain restraint about my costume and that nothing could well have been simpler. But my sister-in-law, who happened to be passing by, stopped dead before me, surveyed me from head to foot and with compressed lips smiled a meaning smile. When I asked her the reason, "I am admiring your get-up!" she said. "What is there so entertaining about it?" I enquired, considerably annoyed. "It's superb," she said. "I was only thinking that one of those low-necked English bodices would have made it perfect." Not only her mouth and eyes, but her whole body seemed to ripple with suppressed laughter as she left the room. I was very, very angry, and wanted to change everything and put on my everyday clothes. But I cannot tell exactly why I could not carry out my impulse. Women are the ornaments of society-- thus I reasoned with myself--and my husband would never like it, if I appeared before Sandip Babu unworthily clad. My idea had been to make my appearance after they had sat down to dinner. In the bustle of looking after the serving the first awkwardness would have passed off. But dinner was not ready in time, and it was getting late. Meanwhile my husband had sent for me to introduce the guest. I was feeling horribly shy about looking Sandip Babu in the face. However, I managed to recover myself enough to say: "I am so sorry dinner is getting late." He boldly came and sat right beside me as he replied: "I get a dinner of some kind every day, but the Goddess of Plenty keeps behind the scenes. Now that the goddess herself has appeared, it matters little if the dinner lags behind." He was just as emphatic in his manners as he was in his public speaking. He had no hesitation and seemed to be accustomed to occupy, unchallenged, his chosen seat. He claimed the right to intimacy so confidently, that the blame would seem to belong to those who should dispute it. I was in terror lest Sandip Babu should take me for a shrinking, old-fashioned bundle of inanity. But, for the life of me, I could not sparkle in repartees such as might charm or dazzle him. What could have possessed me, I angrily wondered, to appear before him in such an absurd way? I was about to retire when dinner was over, but Sandip Babu, as bold as ever, placed himself in my way. "You must not," he said, "think me greedy. It was not the dinner that kept me staying on, it was your invitation. If you were to run away now, that would not be playing fair with your guest." If he had not said these words with a careless ease, they would have been out of tune. But, after all, he was such a great friend of my husband that I was like his sister. While I was struggling to climb up this high wave of intimacy, my husband came to the rescue, saying: "Why not come back to us after you have taken your dinner?" "But you must give your word," said Sandip Babu, "before we let you off." "I will come," said I, with a slight smile. "Let me tell you," continued Sandip Babu, "why I cannot trust you. Nikhil has been married these nine years, and all this while you have eluded me. If you do this again for another nine years, we shall never meet again." I took up the spirit of his remark as I dropped my voice to reply: "Why even then should we not meet?" "My horoscope tells me I am to die early. None of my forefathers have survived their thirtieth year. I am now twenty-seven." He knew this would go home. This time there must have been a shade of concern in my low voice as I said: "The blessings of the whole country are sure to avert the evil influence of the stars." "Then the blessings of the country must be voiced by its goddess. This is the reason for my anxiety that you should return, so that my talisman may begin to work from today." Sandip Babu had such a way of taking things by storm that I got no opportunity of resenting what I never should have permitted in another. "So," he concluded with a laugh, "I am going to hold this husband of yours as a hostage till you come back." As I was coming away, he exclaimed: "May I trouble you for a trifle?" I started and turned round. "Don't be alarmed," he said. "It's merely a glass of water. You might have noticed that I did not drink any water with my dinner. I take it a little later." Upon this I had to make a show of interest and ask him the reason. He began to give the history of his dyspepsia. I was told how he had been a martyr to it for seven months, and how, after the usual course of nuisances, which included different allopathic and homoeopathic misadventures, he had obtained the most wonderful results by indigenous methods. "Do you know," he added, with a smile, "God has built even my infirmities in such a manner that they yield only under the bombardment of __Swadeshi__ pills." My husband, at this, broke his silence. "You must confess," said he, "that you have as immense an attraction for foreign medicine as the earth has for meteors. You have three shelves in your sitting-room full of..." Sandip Babu broke in: "Do you know what they are? They are the punitive police. They come, not because they are wanted, but because they are imposed on us by the rule of this modern age, exacting fines and-inflicting injuries." My husband could not bear exaggerations, and I could see he disliked this. But all ornaments are exaggerations. They are not made by God, but by man. Once I remember in defence of some untruth of mine I said to my husband: "Only the trees and beasts and birds tell unmitigated truths, because these poor things have not the power to invent. In this men show their superiority to the lower creatures, and women beat even men. Neither is a profusion of ornament unbecoming for a woman, nor a profusion of untruth." As I came out into the passage leading to the zenana I found my sister-in-law, standing near a window overlooking the reception rooms, peeping through the venetian shutter. "You here?" I asked in surprise. "Eavesdropping!" she replied. ------ 11. The Jupiter Pluvius of Hindu mythology. V When I returned, Sandip Babu was tenderly apologetic. "I am afraid we have spoilt your appetite," he said. I felt greatly ashamed. Indeed, I had been too indecently quick over my dinner. With a little calculation, it would become quite evident that my non-eating had surpassed the eating. But I had no idea that anyone could have been deliberately calculating. I suppose Sandip Babu detected my feeling of shame, which only augmented it. "I was sure," he said, "that you had the impulse of the wild deer to run away, but it is a great boon that you took the trouble to keep your promise with me." I could not think of any suitable reply and so I sat down, blushing and uncomfortable, at one end of the sofa. The vision that I had of myself, as the __Shakti__ of Womanhood, incarnate, crowning Sandip Babu simply with my presence, majestic and unashamed, failed me altogether. Sandip Babu deliberately started a discussion with my husband. He knew that his keen wit flashed to the best effect in an argument. I have often since observed, that he never lost an opportunity for a passage at arms whenever I happened to be present. He was familiar with my husband's views on the cult of __Bande Mataram__, and began in a provoking way: "So you do not allow that there is room for an appeal to the imagination in patriotic work?" "It has its place, Sandip, I admit, but I do not believe in giving it the whole place. I would know my country in its frank reality, and for this I am both afraid and ashamed to make use of hypnotic texts of patriotism." "What you call hypnotic texts I call truth. I truly believe my country to be my God. I worship Humanity. God manifests Himself both in man and in his country." "If that is what you really believe, there should be no difference for you between man and man, and so between country and country." "Quite true. But my powers are limited, so my worship of Humanity is continued in the worship of my country." "I have nothing against your worship as such, but how is it you propose to conduct your worship of God by hating other countries in which He is equally manifest?" "Hate is also an adjunct of worship. Arjuna won Mahadeva's favour by wrestling with him. God will be with us in the end, if we are prepared to give Him battle." "If that be so, then those who are serving and those who are harming the country are both His devotees. Why, then, trouble to preach patriotism?" "In the case of one's own country, it is different. There the heart clearly demands worship." "If you push the same argument further you can say that since God is manifested in us, our __self__ has to be worshipped before all else; because our natural instinct claims it." "Look here, Nikhil, this is all merely dry logic. Can't you recognize that there is such a thing as feeling?" "I tell you the truth, Sandip," my husband replied. "It is my feelings that are outraged, whenever you try to pass off injustice as a duty, and unrighteousness as a moral ideal. The fact, that I am incapable of stealing, is not due to my possessing logical faculties, but to my having some feeling of respect for myself and love for ideals." I was raging inwardly. At last I could keep silent no longer. "Is not the history of every country," I cried, "whether England, France, Germany, or Russia, the history of stealing for the sake of one's own country?" "They have to answer for these thefts; they are doing so even now; their history is not yet ended." "At any rate," interposed Sandip Babu, "why should we not follow suit? Let us first fill our country's coffers with stolen goods and then take centuries, like these other countries, to answer for them, if we must. But, I ask you, where do you find this 'answering' in history?" "When Rome was answering for her sin no one knew it. All that time, there was apparently no limit to her prosperity. But do you not see one thing: how these political bags of theirs are bursting with lies and treacheries, breaking their backs under their weight?" Never before had I had any opportunity of being present at a discussion between my husband and his men friends. Whenever he argued with me I could feel his reluctance to push me into a corner. This arose out of the very love he bore me. Today for the first time I saw his fencer's skill in debate. Nevertheless, my heart refused to accept my husband's position. I was struggling to find some answer, but it would not come. When the word "righteousness" comes into an argument, it sounds ugly to say that a thing can be too good to be useful. All of a sudden Sandip Babu turned to me with the question: "What do __you__ say to this?" "I do not care about fine distinctions," I broke out. "I will tell you broadly what I feel. I am only human. I am covetous. I would have good things for my country. If I am obliged, I would snatch them and filch them. I have anger. I would be angry for my country's sake. If necessary, I would smite and slay to avenge her insults. I have my desire to be fascinated, and fascination must be supplied to me in bodily shape by my country. She must have some visible symbol casting its spell upon my mind. I would make my country a Person, and call her Mother, Goddess, Durga--for whom I would redden the earth with sacrificial offerings. I am human, not divine." Sandip Babu leapt to his feet with uplifted arms and shouted "Hurrah!"--The next moment he corrected himself and cried: "__Bande Mataram__." A shadow of pain passed over the face of my husband. He said to me in a very gentle voice: "Neither am I divine: I am human. And therefore I dare not permit the evil which is in me to be exaggerated into an image of my country--never, never!" Sandip Babu cried out: "See, Nikhil, how in the heart of a woman Truth takes flesh and blood. Woman knows how to be cruel: her virulence is like a blind storm. It is beautifully fearful. In man it is ugly, because it harbours in its centre the gnawing worms of reason and thought. I tell you, Nikhil, it is our women who will save the country. This is not the time for nice scruples. We must be unswervingly, unreasoningly brutal. We must sin. We must give our women red sandal paste with which to anoint and enthrone our sin. Don't you remember what the poet says: /* Come, Sin, O beautiful Sin, Let thy stinging red kisses pour down fiery red wine into our blood. Sound the trumpet of imperious evil And cross our forehead with the wreath of exulting lawlessness, O Deity of Desecration, Smear our breasts with the blackest mud of disrepute, unashamed. */ Down with that righteousness, which cannot smilingly bring rack and ruin." When Sandip Babu, standing with his head high, insulted at a moment's impulse all that men have cherished as their highest, in all countries and in all times, a shiver went right through my body. But, with a stamp of his foot, he continued his declamation: "I can see that you are that beautiful spirit of fire, which burns the home to ashes and lights up the larger world with its flame. Give to us the indomitable courage to go to the bottom of Ruin itself. Impart grace to all that is baneful." It was not clear to whom Sandip Babu addressed his last appeal. It might have been She whom he worshipped with his __Bande Mataram__. It might have been the Womanhood of his country. Or it might have been its representative, the woman before him. He would have gone further in the same strain, but my husband suddenly rose from his seat and touched him lightly on the shoulder saying: "Sandip, Chandranath Babu is here." I started and turned round, to find an aged gentleman at the door, calm and dignified, in doubt as to whether he should come in or retire. His face was touched with a gentle light like that of the setting sun. My husband came up to me and whispered: "This is my master, of whom I have so often told you. Make your obeisance to him." I bent reverently and took the dust of his feet. He gave me his blessing saying: "May God protect you always, my little mother." I was sorely in need of such a blessing at that moment. Nikhil's Story I One day I had the faith to believe that I should be able to bear whatever came from my God. I never had the trial. Now I think it has come. I used to test my strength of mind by imagining all kinds of evil which might happen to me--poverty, imprisonment, dishonour, death--even Bimala's. And when I said to myself that I should be able to receive these with firmness, I am sure I did not exaggerate. Only I could never even imagine one thing, and today it is that of which I am thinking, and wondering whether I can really bear it. There is a thorn somewhere pricking in my heart, constantly giving me pain while I am about my daily work. It seems to persist even when I am asleep. The very moment I wake up in the morning, I find that the bloom has gone from the face of the sky. What is it? What has happened? My mind has become so sensitive, that even my past life, which came to me in the disguise of happiness, seems to wring my very heart with its falsehood; and the shame and sorrow which are coming close to me are losing their cover of privacy, all the more because they try to veil their faces. My heart has become all eyes. The things that should not be seen, the things I do not want to see--these I must see. The day has come at last when my ill-starred life has to reveal its destitution in a long-drawn series of exposures. This penury, all unexpected, has taken its seat in the heart where plenitude seemed to reign. The fees which I paid to delusion for just nine years of my youth have now to be returned with interest to Truth till the end of my days. What is the use of straining to keep up my pride? What harm if I confess that I have something lacking in me? Possibly it is that unreasoning forcefulness which women love to find in men. But is strength mere display of muscularity? Must strength have no scruples in treading the weak underfoot? But why all these arguments? Worthiness cannot be earned merely by disputing about it. And I am unworthy, unworthy, unworthy. What if I am unworthy? The true value of love is this, that it can ever bless the unworthy with its own prodigality. For the worthy there are many rewards on God's earth, but God has specially reserved love for the unworthy. Up till now Bimala was my home-made Bimala, the product of the confined space and the daily routine of small duties. Did the love which I received from her, I asked myself, come from the deep spring of her heart, or was it merely like the daily provision of pipe water pumped up by the municipal steam-engine of society? I longed to find Bimala blossoming fully in all her truth and power. But the thing I forgot to calculate was, that one must give up all claims based on conventional rights, if one would find a person freely revealed in truth. Why did I fail to think of this? Was it because of the husband's pride of possession over his wife? No. It was because I placed the fullest trust upon love. I was vain enough to think that I had the power in me to bear the sight of truth in its awful nakedness. It was tempting Providence, but still I clung to my proud determination to come out victorious in the trial. Bimala had failed to understand me in one thing. She could not fully realize that I held as weakness all imposition of force. Only the weak dare not be just. They shirk their responsibility of fairness and try quickly to get at results through the short- cuts of injustice. Bimala has no patience with patience. She loves to find in men the turbulent, the angry, the unjust. Her respect must have its element of fear. I had hoped that when Bimala found herself free in the outer world she would be rescued from her infatuation for tyranny. But now I feel sure that this infatuation is deep down in her nature. Her love is for the boisterous. From the tip of her tongue to the pit of her stomach she must tingle with red pepper in order to enjoy the simple fare of life. But my determination was, never to do my duty with frantic impetuosity, helped on by the fiery liquor of excitement. I know Bimala finds it difficult to respect me for this, taking my scruples for feebleness--and she is quite angry with me because I am not running amuck crying __Bande Mataram__. For the matter of that, I have become unpopular with all my countrymen because I have not joined them in their carousals. They are certain that either I have a longing for some title, or else that I am afraid of the police. The police on their side suspect me of harbouring some hidden design and protesting too much in my mildness. What I really feel is this, that those who cannot find food for their enthusiasm in a knowledge of their country as it actually is, or those who cannot love men just because they are men--who needs must shout and deify their country in order to keep up their excitement--these love excitement more than their country. To try to give our infatuation a higher place than Truth is a sign of inherent slavishness. Where our minds are free we find ourselves lost. Our moribund vitality must have for its rider either some fantasy, or someone in authority, or a sanction from the pundits, in order to make it move. So long as we are impervious to truth and have to be moved by some hypnotic stimulus, we must know that we lack the capacity for self- government. Whatever may be our condition, we shall either need some imaginary ghost or some actual medicine-man to terrorize over us. The other day when Sandip accused me of lack of imagination, saying that this prevented me from realizing my country in a visible image, Bimala agreed with him. I did not say anything in my defence, because to win in argument does not lead to happiness. Her difference of opinion is not due to any inequality of intelligence, but rather to dissimilarity of nature. They accuse me of being unimaginative--that is, according to them, I may have oil in my lamp, but no flame. Now this is exactly the accusation which I bring against them. I would say to them: "You are dark, even as the flints are. You must come to violent conflicts and make a noise in order to produce your sparks. But their disconnected flashes merely assist your pride, and not your clear vision." I have been noticing for some time that there is a gross cupidity about Sandip. His fleshly feelings make him harbour delusions about his religion and impel him into a tyrannical attitude in his patriotism. His intellect is keen, but his nature is coarse, and so he glorifies his selfish lusts under high-sounding names. The cheap consolations of hatred are as urgently necessary for him as the satisfaction of his appetites. Bimala has often warned me, in the old days, of his hankering after money. I understood this, but I could not bring myself to haggle with Sandip. I felt ashamed even to own to myself that he was trying to take advantage of me. It will, however, be difficult to explain to Bimala today that Sandip's love of country is but a different phase of his covetous self-love. Bimala's hero-worship of Sandip makes me hesitate all the more to talk to her about him, lest some touch of jealousy may lead me unwittingly into exaggeration. It may be that the pain at my heart is already making me see a distorted picture of Sandip. And yet it is better perhaps to speak out than to keep my feelings gnawing within me. II I have known my master these thirty years. Neither calumny, nor disaster, nor death itself has any terrors for him. Nothing could have saved me, born as I was into the traditions of this family of ours, but that he has established his own life in the centre of mine, with its peace and truth and spiritual vision, thus making it possible for me to realize goodness in its truth. My master came to me that day and said: "Is it necessary to detain Sandip here any longer?" His nature was so sensitive to all omens of evil that he had at once understood. He was not easily moved, but that day he felt the dark shadow of trouble ahead. Do I not know how well he loves me? At tea-time I said to Sandip: "I have just had a letter from Rangpur. They are complaining that I am selfishly detaining you. When will you be going there?" Bimala was pouring out the tea. Her face fell at once. She threw just one enquiring glance at Sandip. "I have been thinking," said Sandip, "that this wandering up and down means a tremendous waste of energy. I feel that if I could work from a centre I could achieve more permanent results." With this he looked up at Bimala and asked: "Do you not think so too?" Bimala hesitated for a reply and then said: "Both ways seem good --to do the work from a centre, as well as by travelling about. That in which you find greater satisfaction is the way for you." "Then let me speak out my mind," said Sandip. "I have never yet found any one source of inspiration suffice me for good. That is why I have been constantly moving about, rousing enthusiasm in the people, from which in turn I draw my own store of energy. Today you have given me the message of my country. Such fire I have never beheld in any man. I shall be able to spread the fire of enthusiasm in my country by borrowing it from you. No, do not be ashamed. You are far above all modesty and diffidence. You are the Queen Bee of our hive, and we the workers shall rally around you. You shall be our centre, our inspiration." Bimala flushed all over with bashful pride and her hand shook as she went on pouring out the tea. Another day my master came to me and said: "Why don't you two go up to Darjeeling for a change? You are not looking well. Have you been getting enough sleep?" I asked Bimala in the evening whether she would care to have a trip to the Hills. I knew she had a great longing to see the Himalayas. But she refused ... The country's Cause, I suppose! I must not lose my faith: I shall wait. The passage from the narrow to the larger world is stormy. When she is familiar with this freedom, then I shall know where my place is. If I discover that I do not fit in with the arrangement of the outer world, then I shall not quarrel with my fate, but silently take my leave ... Use force? But for what? Can force prevail against Truth? Sandip's Story I The impotent man says: "That which has come to my share is mine." And the weak man assents. But the lesson of the whole world is: "That is really mine which I can snatch away." My country does not become mine simply because it is the country of my birth. It becomes mine on the day when I am able to win it by force. Every man has a natural right to possess, and therefore greed is natural. It is not in the wisdom of nature that we should be content to be deprived. What my mind covets, my surroundings must supply. This is the only true understanding between our inner and outer nature in this world. Let moral ideals remain merely for those poor anaemic creatures of starved desire whose grasp is weak. Those who can desire with all their soul and enjoy with all their heart, those who have no hesitation or scruple, it is they who are the anointed of Providence. Nature spreads out her riches and loveliest treasures for their benefit. They swim across streams, leap over walls, kick open doors, to help themselves to whatever is worth taking. In such a getting one can rejoice; such wresting as this gives value to the thing taken. Nature surrenders herself, but only to the robber. For she delights in this forceful desire, this forceful abduction. And so she does not put the garland of her acceptance round the lean, scraggy neck of the ascetic. The music of the wedding march is struck. The time of the wedding I must not let pass. My heart therefore is eager. For, who is the bridegroom? It is I. The bridegroom's place belongs to him who, torch in hand, can come in time. The bridegroom in Nature's wedding hall comes unexpected and uninvited. Ashamed? No, I am never ashamed! I ask for whatever I want, and I do not always wait to ask before I take it. Those who are deprived by their own diffidence dignify their privation by the name of modesty. The world into which we are born is the world of reality. When a man goes away from the market of real things with empty hands and empty stomach, merely filling his bag with big sounding words, I wonder why he ever came into this hard world at all. Did these men get their appointment from the epicures of the religious world, to play set tunes on sweet, pious texts in that pleasure garden where blossom airy nothings? I neither affect those tunes nor do I find any sustenance in those blossoms. What I desire, I desire positively, superlatively. I want to knead it with both my hands and both my feet; I want to smear it all over my body; I want to gorge myself with it to the full. The scrannel pipes of those who have worn themselves out by their moral fastings, till they have become flat and pale like starved vermin infesting a long-deserted bed, will never reach my ear. I would conceal nothing, because that would be cowardly. But if I cannot bring myself to conceal when concealment is needful, that also is cowardly. Because you have your greed, you build your walls. Because I have my greed, I break through them. You use your power: I use my craft. These are the realities of life. On these depend kingdoms and empires and all the great enterprises of men. As for those __avatars__ who come down from their paradise to talk to us in some holy jargon--their words are not real. Therefore, in spite of all the applause they get, these sayings of theirs only find a place in the hiding corners of the weak. They are despised by those who are strong, the rulers of the world. Those who have had the courage to see this have won success, while those poor wretches who are dragged one way by nature and the other way by these ava tars, they set one foot in the boat of the real and the other in the boat of the unreal, and thus are in a pitiable plight, able neither to advance nor to keep their place. There are many men who seem to have been born only with an obsession to die. Possibly there is a beauty, like that of a sunset, in this lingering death in life which seems to fascinate them. Nikhil lives this kind of life, if life it may be called. Years ago, I had a great argument with him on this point. "It is true," he said, "that you cannot get anything except by force. But then what is this force? And then also, what is this getting? The strength I believe in is the strength of renouncing." "So you," I exclaimed, "are infatuated with the glory of bankruptcy." "Just as desperately as the chick is infatuated about the bankruptcy of its shell," he replied. "The shell is real enough, yet it is given up in exchange for intangible light and air. A sorry exchange, I suppose you would call it?" When once Nikhil gets on to metaphor, there is no hope of making him see that he is merely dealing with words, not with realities. Well, well, let him be happy with his metaphors. We are the flesh-eaters of the world; we have teeth and nails; we pursue and grab and tear. We are not satisfied with chewing in the evening the cud of the grass we have eaten in the morning. Anyhow, we cannot allow your metaphor-mongers to bar the door to our sustenance. In that case we shall simply steal or rob, for we must live. People will say that I am starting some novel theory just because those who are moving in this world are in the habit of talking differently though they are really acting up to it all the time. Therefore they fail to understand, as I do, that this is the only working moral principle. In point of fact, I know that my idea is not an empty theory at all, for it has been proved in practical life. I have found that my way always wins over the hearts of women, who are creatures of this world of reality and do not roam about in cloud-land, as men do, in idea-filled balloons. Women find in my features, my manner, my gait, my speech, a masterful passion--not a passion dried thin with the heat of asceticism, not a passion with its face turned back at every step in doubt and debate, but a full-blooded passion. It roars and rolls on, like a flood, with the cry: "I want, I want, I want." Women feel, in their own heart of hearts, that this indomitable passion is the lifeblood of the world, acknowledging no law but itself, and therefore victorious. For this reason they have so often abandoned themselves to be swept away on the flood-tide of my passion, recking naught as to whether it takes them to life or to death. This power which wins these women is the power of mighty men, the power which wins the world of reality. Those who imagine the greater desirability of another world merely shift their desires from the earth to the skies. It remains to be seen how high their gushing fountain will play, and for how long. But this much is certain: women were not created for these pale creatures--these lotus-eaters of idealism. "Affinity!" When it suited my need, I have often said that God has created special pairs of men and women, and that the union of such is the only legitimate union, higher than all unions made by law. The reason of it is, that though man wants to follow nature, he can find no pleasure in it unless he screens himself with some phrase--and that is why this world is so overflowing with lies. "Affinity!" Why should there be only one? There may be affinity with thousands. It was never in my agreement with nature that I should overlook all my innumerable affinities for the sake of only one. I have discovered many in my own life up to now, yet that has not closed the door to one more--and that one is clearly visible to my eyes. She has also discovered her own affinity to me. And then? Then, if I do not win I am a coward. Chapter Three Bimala's Story VI I WONDER what could have happened to my feeling of shame. The fact is, I had no time to think about myself. My days and nights were passing in a whirl, like an eddy with myself in the centre. No gap was left for hesitation or delicacy to enter. One day my sister-in-law remarked to my husband: "Up to now the women of this house have been kept weeping. Here comes the men's turn. "We must see that they do not miss it," she continued, turning to me. "I see you are out for the fray, Chota [12] Rani! Hurl your shafts straight at their hearts." Her keen eyes looked me up and down. Not one of the colours into which my toilet, my dress, my manners, my speech, had blossomed out had escaped her. I am ashamed to speak of it today, but I felt no shame then. Something within me was at work of which I was not even conscious. I used to overdress, it is true, but more like an automaton, with no particular design. No doubt I knew which effort of mine would prove specially pleasing to Sandip Babu, but that required no intuition, for he would discuss it openly before all of them. One day he said to my husband: "Do you know, Nikhil, when I first saw our Queen Bee, she was sitting there so demurely in her gold- bordered __sari__. Her eyes were gazing inquiringly into space, like stars which had lost their way, just as if she had been for ages standing on the edge of some darkness, looking out for something unknown. But when I saw her, I felt a quiver run through me. It seemed to me that the gold border of her __sari__ was her own inner fire flaming out and twining round her. That is the flame we want, visible fire! Look here, Queen Bee, you really must do us the favour of dressing once more as a living flame." So long I had been like a small river at the border of a village. My rhythm and my language were different from what they are now. But the tide came up from the sea, and my breast heaved; my banks gave way and the great drumbeats of the sea waves echoed in my mad current. I could not understand the meaning of that sound in my blood. Where was that former self of mine? Whence came foaming into me this surging flood of glory? Sandip's hungry eyes burnt like the lamps of worship before my shrine. All his gaze proclaimed that I was a wonder in beauty and power; and the loudness of his praise, spoken and unspoken, drowned all other voices in my world. Had the Creator created me afresh, I wondered? Did he wish to make up now for neglecting me so long? I who before was plain had become suddenly beautiful. I who before had been of no account now felt in myself all the splendour of Bengal itself. For Sandip Babu was not a mere individual. In him was the confluence of millions of minds of the country. When he called me the Queen Bee of the hive, I was acclaimed with a chorus of praise by all our patriot workers. After that, the loud jests of my sister-in-law could not touch me any longer. My relations with all the world underwent a change. Sandip Babu made it clear how all the country was in need of me. I had no difficulty in believing this at the time, for I felt that I had the power to do everything. Divine strength had come to me. It was something which I had never felt before, which was beyond myself. I had no time to question it to find out what was its nature. It seemed to belong to me, and yet to transcend me. It comprehended the whole of Bengal. Sandip Babu would consult me about every little thing touching the Cause. At first I felt very awkward and would hang back, but that soon wore off. Whatever I suggested seemed to astonish him. He would go into raptures and say: "Men can only think. You women have a way of understanding without thinking. Woman was created out of God's own fancy. Man, He had to hammer into shape." Letters used to come to Sandip Babu from all parts of the country which were submitted to me for my opinion. Occasionally he disagreed with me. But I would not argue with him. Then after a day or two--as if a new light had suddenly dawned upon him--he would send for me and say: "It was my mistake. Your suggestion was the correct one." He would often confess to me that wherever he had taken steps contrary to my advice he had gone wrong. Thus I gradually came to be convinced that behind whatever was taking place was Sandip Babu, and behind Sandip Babu was the plain common sense of a woman. The glory of a great responsibility filled my being. My husband had no place in our counsels. Sandip Babu treated him as a younger brother, of whom personally one may be very fond and yet have no use for his business advice. He would tenderly and smilingly talk about my husband's childlike innocence, saying that his curious doctrine and perversities of mind had a flavour of humour which made them all the more lovable. It was seemingly this very affection for Nikhil which led Sandip Babu to forbear from troubling him with the burden of the country. Nature has many anodynes in her pharmacy, which she secretly administers when vital relations are being insidiously severed, so that none may know of the operation, till at last one awakes to know what a great rent has been made. When the knife was busy with my life's most intimate tie, my mind was so clouded with fumes of intoxicating gas that I was not in the least aware of what a cruel thing was happening. Possibly this is woman's nature. When her passion is roused she loses her sensibility for all that is outside it. When, like the river, we women keep to our banks, we give nourishment with all that we have: when we overflow them we destroy with all that we are. ------ 12. Bimala. the younger brother's wife, was the __Chota__ or Junior Rani. Sandip's Story II I can see that something has gone wrong. I got an inkling of it the other day. Ever since my arrival, Nikhil's sitting-room had become a thing amphibious--half women's apartment, half men's: Bimala had access to it from the zenana, it was not barred to me from the outer side. If we had only gone slow, and made use of our privileges with some restraint, we might not have fallen foul of other people. But we went ahead so vehemently that we could not think of the consequences. Whenever Bee comes into Nikhil's room, I somehow get to know of it from mine. There are the tinkle of bangles and other little sounds; the door is perhaps shut with a shade of unnecessary vehemence; the bookcase is a trifle stiff and creaks if jerked open. When I enter I find Bee, with her back to the door, ever so busy selecting a book from the shelves. And as I offer to assist her in this difficult task she starts and protests; and then we naturally get on to other topics. The other day, on an inauspicious [13] Thursday afternoon, I sallied forth from my room at the call of these same sounds. There was a man on guard in the passage. I walked on without so much as glancing at him, but as I approached the door he put himself in my way saying: "Not that way, sir." "Not that way! Why?" "The Rani Mother is there." "Oh, very well. Tell your Rani Mother that Sandip Babu wants to see her." "That cannot be, sir. It is against orders." I felt highly indignant. "I order you!" I said in a raised voice. "Go and announce me." The fellow was somewhat taken aback at my attitude. In the meantime I had neared the door. I was on the point of reaching it, when he followed after me and took me by the arm saying: "No, sir, you must not." What! To be touched by a flunkey! I snatched away my arm and gave the man a sounding blow. At this moment Bee came out of the room to find the man about to insult me. I shall never forget the picture of her wrath! That Bee is beautiful is a discovery of my own. Most of our people would see nothing in her. Her tall, slim figure these boors would call "lanky". But it is just this lithesomeness of hers that I admire--like an up-leaping fountain of life, coming direct out of the depths of the Creator's heart. Her complexion is dark, but it is the lustrous darkness of a sword-blade, keen and scintillating. "Nanku!" she commanded, as she stood in the doorway, pointing with her finger, "leave us." "Do not be angry with him," said I. "If it is against orders, it is I who should retire." Bee's voice was still trembling as she replied: "You must not go. Come in." It was not a request, but again a command! I followed her in, and taking a chair fanned myself with a fan which was on the table. Bee scribbled something with a pencil on a sheet of paper and, summoning a servant, handed it to him saying: "Take this to the Maharaja." "Forgive me," I resumed. "I was unable to control myself, and hit that man of yours. "You served him right," said Bee. "But it was not the poor fellow's fault, after all. He was only obeying his orders." Here Nikhil came in, and as he did so I left my seat with a rapid movement and went and stood near the window with my back to the room. "Nanku, the guard, has insulted Sandip Babu," said Bee to Nikhil. Nikhil seemed to be so genuinely surprised that I had to turn round and stare at him. Even an outrageously good man fails in keeping up his pride of truthfulness before his wife--if she be the proper kind of woman. "He insolently stood in the way when Sandip Babu was coming in here," continued Bee. "He said he had orders ..." "Whose orders?" asked Nikhil. "How am I to know?" exclaimed Bee impatiently, her eyes brimming over with mortification. Nikhil sent for the man and questioned him. "It was not my fault," Nanku repeated sullenly. "I had my orders." "Who gave you the order?" "The Bara Rani Mother." We were all silent for a while. After the man had left, Bee said: "Nanku must go!" Nikhil remained silent. I could see that his sense of justice would not allow this. There was no end to his qualms. But this time he was up against a tough problem. Bee was not the woman to take things lying down. She would have to get even with her sister-in-law by punishing this fellow. And as Nikhil remained silent, her eyes flashed fire. She knew not how to pour her scorn upon her husband's feebleness of spirit. Nikhil left the room after a while without another word. The next day Nanku was not to be seen. On inquiry, I learnt that he had been sent off to some other part of the estates, and that his wages had not suffered by such transfer. I could catch glimpses of the ravages of the storm raging over this, behind the scenes. All I can say is, that Nikhil is a curious creature, quite out of the common. The upshot was, that after this Bee began to send for me to the sitting-room, for a chat, without any contrivance, or pretence of its being an accident. Thus from bare suggestion we came to broad hint: the implied came to be expressed. The daughter-in- law of a princely house lives in a starry region so remote from the ordinary outsider that there is not even a regular road for his approach. What a triumphal progress of Truth was this which, gradually but persistently, thrust aside veil after veil of obscuring custom, till at length Nature herself was laid bare. Truth? Of course it was the truth! The attraction of man and woman for each other is fundamental. The whole world of matter, from the speck of dust upwards, is ranged on its side. And yet men would keep it hidden away out of sight, behind a tissue of words; and with home-made sanctions and prohibitions make of it a domestic utensil. Why, it's as absurd as melting down the solar system to make a watch-chain for one's son-in-law! [14] When, in spite of all, reality awakes at the call of what is but naked truth, what a gnashing of teeth and beating of breasts is there! But can one carry on a quarrel with a storm? It never takes the trouble to reply, it only gives a shaking. I am enjoying the sight of this truth, as it gradually reveals itself. These tremblings of steps, these turnings of the face, are sweet to me: and sweet are the deceptions which deceive not only others, but also Bee herself. When Reality has to meet the unreal, deception is its principal weapon; for its enemies always try to shame Reality by calling it gross, and so it needs must hide itself, or else put on some disguise. The circumstances are such that it dare not frankly avow: "Yes, I am gross, because I am true. I am flesh. I am passion. I am hunger, unashamed and cruel." All is now clear to me. The curtain flaps, and through it I can see the preparations for the catastrophe. The little red ribbon, which peeps through the luxuriant masses of her hair, with its flush of secret longing, it is the lolling tongue of the red storm cloud. I feel the warmth of each turn of her __sari__, each suggestion of her raiment, of which even the wearer may not be fully conscious. Bee was not conscious, because she was ashamed of the reality; to which men have given a bad name, calling it Satan; and so it has to steal into the garden of paradise in the guise of a snake, and whisper secrets into the ears of man's chosen consort and make her rebellious; then farewell to all ease; and after that comes death! My poor little Queen Bee is living in a dream. She knows not which way she is treading. It would not be safe to awaken her before the time. It is best for me to pretend to be equally unconscious. The other day, at dinner, she was gazing at me in a curious sort of way, little realizing what such glances mean! As my eyes met hers, she turned away with a flush. "You are surprised at my appetite," I remarked. "I can hide everything, except that I am greedy! Anyhow, why trouble to blush for me, since I am shameless?" This only made her colour more furiously, as she stammered: "No, no, I was only..." "I know," I interrupted. "Women have a weakness for greedy men; for it is this greed of ours which gives them the upper hand. The indulgence which I have always received at their hands has made me all the more shameless. I do not mind your watching the good things disappear, not one bit. I mean to enjoy every one of them." The other day I was reading an English book in which sex-problems were treated in an audaciously realistic manner. I had left it lying in the sitting-room. As I went there the next afternoon, for something or other, I found Bee seated with this book in her hand. When she heard my footsteps she hurriedly put it down and placed another book over it--a volume of Mrs Hemans's poems. "I have never been able to make out," I began, "why women are so shy about being caught reading poetry. We men--lawyers, mechanics, or what not--may well feel ashamed. If we must read poetry, it should be at dead of night, within closed doors. But you women are so akin to poesy. The Creator Himself is a lyric poet, and Jayadeva [15] must have practised the divine art seated at His feet." Bee made no reply, but only blushed uncomfortably. She made as if she would leave the room. Whereupon I protested: "No, no, pray read on. I will just take a book I left here, and run away." With which I took up my book from the table. "Lucky you did not think of glancing over its pages," I continued, "or you would have wanted to chastise me." "Indeed! Why?" asked Bee. "Because it is not poetry," said I. "Only blunt things, bluntly put, without any finicking niceness. I wish Nikhil would read it." Bee frowned a little as she murmured: "What makes you wish that?" "He is a man, you see, one of us. My only quarrel with him is that he delights in a misty vision of this world. Have you not observed how this trait of his makes him look on __Swadeshi__ as if it was some poem of which the metre must be kept correct at every step? We, with the clubs of our prose, are the iconoclasts of metre." "What has your book to do with __Swadeshi__?" "You would know if you only read it. Nikhil wants to go by made- up maxims, in __Swadeshi__ as in everything else; so he knocks up against human nature at every turn, and then falls to abusing it. He never will realize that human nature was created long before phrases were, and will survive them too." Bee was silent for a while and then gravely said: "Is it not a part of human nature to try and rise superior to itself?" I smiled inwardly. "These are not your words", I thought to myself. "You have learnt them from Nikhil. You are a healthy human being. Your flesh and blood have responded to the call of reality. You are burning in every vein with life-fire--do I not know it? How long should they keep you cool with the wet towel of moral precepts?" "The weak are in the majority," I said aloud. "They are continually poisoning the ears of men by repeating these shibboleths. Nature has denied them strength--it is thus that they try to enfeeble others." "We women are weak," replied Bimala. "So I suppose we must join in the conspiracy of the weak." "Women weak!" I exclaimed with a laugh. "Men belaud you as delicate and fragile, so as to delude you into thinking yourselves weak. But it is you women who are strong. Men make a great outward show of their so-called freedom, but those who know their inner minds are aware of their bondage. They have manufactured scriptures with their own hands to bind themselves; with their very idealism they have made golden fetters of women to wind round their body and mind. If men had not that extraordinary faculty of entangling themselves in meshes of their own contriving, nothing could have kept them bound. But as for you women, you have desired to conceive reality with body and soul. You have given birth to reality. You have suckled reality at your breasts." Bee was well read for a woman, and would not easily give in to my arguments. "If that were true," she objected, "men would not have found women attractive." "Women realize the danger," I replied. "They know that men love delusions, so they give them full measure by borrowing their own phrases. They know that man, the drunkard, values intoxication more than food, and so they try to pass themselves off as an intoxicant. As a matter of fact, but for the sake of man, woman has no need for any make-believe." "Why, then, are you troubling to destroy the illusion?" "For freedom. I want the country to be free. I want human relations to be free." ------ 13. According to the Hindu calendar [Trans.]. 14. The son-in-law is the pet of a Hindu household. 15. A Vaishnava poet (Sanskrit) whose lyrics of the adoration of the Divinity serve as well to express all shades of human passion [Trans.]. III I was aware that it is unsafe suddenly to awake a sleep-walker. But I am so impetuous by nature, a halting gait does not suit me. I knew I was overbold that day. I knew that the first shock of such ideas is apt to be almost intolerable. But with women it is always audacity that wins. Just as we were getting on nicely, who should walk in but Nikhil's old tutor Chandranath Babu. The world would have been not half a bad place to live in but for these schoolmasters, who make one want to quit in disgust. The Nikhil type wants to keep the world always a school. This incarnation of a school turned up that afternoon at the psychological moment. We all remain schoolboys in some corner of our hearts, and I, even I, felt somewhat pulled up. As for poor Bee, she at once took her place solemnly, like the topmost girl of the class on the front bench. All of a sudden she seemed to remember that she had to face her examination. Some people are so like eternal pointsmen lying in wait by the line, to shunt one's train of thought from one rail to another. Chandranath Babu had no sooner come in than he cast about for some excuse to retire, mumbling: "I beg your pardon, I..." Before he could finish, Bee went up to him and made a profound obeisance, saying: "Pray do not leave us, sir. Will you not take a seat?" She looked like a drowning person clutching at him for support--the little coward! But possibly I was mistaken. It is quite likely that there was a touch of womanly wile in it. She wanted, perhaps, to raise her value in my eyes. She might have been pointedly saying to me: "Please don't imagine for a moment that I am entirely overcome by you. My respect for Chandranath Babu is even greater." Well, indulge in your respect by all means! Schoolmasters thrive on it. But not being one of them, I have no use for that empty compliment. Chandranath Babu began to talk about __Swadeshi__. I thought I would let him go on with his monologues. There is nothing like letting an old man talk himself out. It makes him feel that he is winding up the world, forgetting all the while how far away the real world is from his wagging tongue. But even my worst enemy would not accuse me of patience. And when Chandranath Babu went on to say: "If we expect to gather fruit where we have sown no seed, then we ..." I had to interrupt him. "Who wants fruit?" I cried. "We go by the Author of the Gita who says that we are concerned only with the doing, not with the fruit of our deeds." "What is it then that you do want?" asked Chandranath Babu. "Thorns!" I exclaimed, "which cost nothing to plant." "Thorns do not obstruct others only," he replied. "They have a way of hurting one's own feet." "That is all right for a copy-book," I retorted. "But the real thing is that we have this burning at heart. Now we have only to cultivate thorns for other's soles; afterwards when they hurt us we shall find leisure to repent. But why be frightened even of that? When at last we have to die it will be time enough to get cold. While we are on fire let us seethe and boil." Chandranath Babu smiled. "Seethe by all means," he said, "but do not mistake it for work, or heroism. Nations which have got on in the world have done so by action, not by ebullition. Those who have always lain in dread of work, when with a start they awake to their sorry plight, they look to short-cuts and scamping for their deliverance." I was girding up my loins to deliver a crushing reply, when Nikhil came back. Chandranath Babu rose, and looking towards Bee, said: "Let me go now, my little mother, I have some work to attend to." As he left, I showed Nikhil the book in my hand. "I was telling Queen Bee about this book," I said. Ninety-nine per cent of people have to be deluded with lies, but it is easier to delude this perpetual pupil of the schoolmaster with the truth. He is best cheated openly. So, in playing with him, the simplest course was to lay my cards on the table. Nikhil read the title on the cover, but said nothing. "These writers," I continued, "are busy with their brooms, sweeping away the dust of epithets with which men have covered up this world of ours. So, as I was saying, I wish you would read it." "I have read it," said Nikhil. "Well, what do you say?" "It is all very well for those who really care to think, but poison for those who shirk thought." "What do you mean?" "Those who preach 'Equal Rights of Property' should not be thieves. For, if they are, they would be preaching lies. When passion is in the ascendant, this kind of book is not rightly understood." "Passion," I replied, "is the street lamp which guides us. To call it untrue is as hopeless as to expect to see better by plucking out our natural eyes." Nikhil was visibly growing excited. "I accept the truth of passion," he said, "only when I recognize the truth of restraint. By pressing what we want to see right into our eyes we only injure them: we do not see. So does the violence of passion, which would leave no space between the mind and its object, defeat its purpose." "It is simply your intellectual foppery," I replied, "which makes you indulge in moral delicacy, ignoring the savage side of truth. This merely helps you to mystify things, and so you fail to do your work with any degree of strength." "The intrusion of strength," said Nikhil impatiently, "where strength is out of place, does not help you in your work ... But why are we arguing about these things? Vain arguments only brush off the fresh bloom of truth." I wanted Bee to join in the discussion, but she had not said a word up to now. Could I have given her too rude a shock, leaving her assailed with doubts and wanting to learn her lesson afresh from the schoolmaster? Still, a thorough shaking-up is essential. One must begin by realizing that things supposed to be unshakeable can be shaken. "I am glad I had this talk with you," I said to Nikhil, "for I was on the point of lending this book to Queen Bee to read." "What harm?" said Nikhil. "If I could read the book, why not Bimala too? All I want to say is, that in Europe people look at everything from the viewpoint of science. But man is neither mere physiology, nor biology, nor psychology, nor even sociology. For God's sake don't forget that. Man is infinitely more than the natural science of himself. You laugh at me, calling me the schoolmaster's pupil, but that is what you are, not I. You want to find the truth of man from your science teachers, and not from your own inner being." "But why all this excitement?" I mocked. "Because I see you are bent on insulting man and making him petty." "Where on earth do you see all that?" "In the air, in my outraged feelings. You would go on wounding the great, the unselfish, the beautiful in man." "What mad idea is this of yours?" Nikhil suddenly stood up. "I tell you plainly, Sandip," he said, "man may be wounded unto death, but he will not die. This is the reason why I am ready to suffer all, knowing all, with eyes open." With these words he hurriedly left the room. I was staring blankly at his retreating figure, when the sound of a book, falling from the table, made me turn to find Bee following him with quick, nervous steps, making a detour to avoid passing too near me. A curious creature, that Nikhil! He feels the danger threatening his home, and yet why does he not turn me out? I know, he is waiting for Bimal to give him the cue. If Bimal tells him that their mating has been a misfit, he will bow his head and admit that it may have been a blunder! He has not the strength of mind to understand that to acknowledge a mistake is the greatest of all mistakes. He is a typical example of how ideas make for weakness. I have not seen another like him--so whimsical a product of nature! He would hardly do as a character in a novel or drama, to say nothing of real life. And Bee? I am afraid her dream-life is over from today. She has at length understood the nature of the current which is bearing her along. Now she must either advance or retreat, open-eyed. The chances are she will now advance a step, and then retreat a step. But that does not disturb me. When one is on fire, this rushing to and fro makes the blaze all the fiercer. The fright she has got will only fan her passion. Perhaps I had better not say much to her, but simply select some modern books for her to read. Let her gradually come to the conviction that to acknowledge and respect passion as the supreme reality, is to be modern--not to be ashamed of it, not to glorify restraint. If she finds shelter in some such word as "modern", she will find strength. Be that as it may, I must see this out to the end of the Fifth Act. I cannot, unfortunately, boast of being merely a spectator, seated in the royal box, applauding now and again. There is a wrench at my heart, a pang in every nerve. When I have put out the light and am in my bed, little touches, little glances, little words flit about and fill the darkness. When I get up in the morning, I thrill with lively anticipations, my blood seems to course through me to the strains of music ... There was a double photo-frame on the table with Bee's photograph by the side of Nikhil's. I had taken out hers. Yesterday I showed Bee the empty side and said: "Theft becomes necessary only because of miserliness, so its sin must be divided between the miser and the thief. Do you not think so?" "It was not a good one," observed Bee simply, with a little smile. "What is to be done?" said I. "A portrait cannot be better than a portrait. I must be content with it, such as it is." Bee took up a book and began to turn over the pages. "If you are annoyed," I went on, "I must make a shift to fill up the vacancy." Today I have filled it up. This photograph of mine was taken in my early youth. My face was then fresher, and so was my mind. Then I still cherished some illusions about this world and the next. Faith deceives men, but it has one great merit: it imparts a radiance to the features. My portrait now reposes next to Nikhil's, for are not the two of us old friends? Chapter Four Nikhil's Story III I WAS never self-conscious. But nowadays I often try to take an outside view--to see myself as Bimal sees me. What a dismally solemn picture it makes, my habit of taking things too seriously! Better, surely, to laugh away the world than flood it with tears. That is, in fact, how the world gets on. We relish our food and rest, only because we can dismiss, as so many empty shadows, the sorrows scattered everywhere, both in the home and in the outer world. If we took them as true, even for a moment, where would be our appetite, our sleep? But I cannot dismiss myself as one of these shadows, and so the load of my sorrow lies eternally heavy on the heart of my world. Why not stand out aloof in the highway of the universe, and feel yourself to be part of the all? In the midst of the immense, age-long concourse of humanity, what is Bimal to you? Your wife? What is a wife? A bubble of a name blown big with your own breath, so carefully guarded night and day, yet ready to burst at any pin-prick from outside. My wife--and so, forsooth, my very own! If she says: "No, I am myself"--am I to reply: "How can that be? Are you not mine?" "My wife"--Does that amount to an argument, much less the truth? Can one imprison a whole personality within that name? My wife!--Have I not cherished in this little world all that is purest and sweetest in my life, never for a moment letting it down from my bosom to the dust? What incense of worship, what music of passion, what flowers of my spring and of my autumn, have I not offered up at its shrine? If, like a toy paper-boat, she be swept along into the muddy waters of the gutter--would I not also... ? There it is again, my incorrigible solemnity! Why "muddy"? What "gutter" names, called in a fit of jealousy, do not change the facts of the world. If Bimal is not mine, she is not; and no fuming, or fretting, or arguing will serve to prove that she is. If my heart is breaking--let it break! That will not make the world bankrupt--nor even me; for man is so much greater than the things he loses in this life. The very ocean of tears has its other shore, else none would have ever wept. But then there is Society to be considered ... which let Society consider! If I weep it is for myself, not for Society. If Bimal should say she is not mine, what care I where my Society wife may be? Suffering there must be; but I must save myself, by any means in my power, from one form of self-torture: I must never think that my life loses its value because of any neglect it may suffer. The full value of my life does not all go to buy my narrow domestic world; its great commerce does not stand or fall with some petty success or failure in the bartering of my personal joys and sorrows. The time has come when I must divest Bimala of all the ideal decorations with which I decked her. It was owing to my own weakness that I indulged in such idolatry. I was too greedy. I created an angel of Bimala, in order to exaggerate my own enjoyment. But Bimala is what she is. It is preposterous to expect that she should assume the rôle of an angel for my pleasure. The Creator is under no obligation to supply me with angels, just because I have an avidity for imaginary perfection. I must acknowledge that I have merely been an accident in Bimala's life. Her nature, perhaps, can only find true union with one like Sandip. At the same time, I must not, in false modesty, accept my rejection as my desert. Sandip certainly has attractive qualities, which had their sway also upon myself; but yet, I feel sure, he is not a greater man than I. If the wreath of victory falls to his lot today, and I am overlooked, then the dispenser of the wreath will be called to judgement. I say this in no spirit of boasting. Sheer necessity has driven me to the pass, that to secure myself from utter desolation I must recognize all the value that I truly possess. Therefore, through the, terrible experience of suffering let there come upon me the joy of deliverance--deliverance from self-distrust. I have come to distinguish what is really in me from what I foolishly imagined to be there. The profit and loss account has been settled, and that which remains is myself--not a crippled self, dressed in rags and tatters, not a sick self to be nursed on invalid diet, but a spirit which has gone through the worst, and has survived. My master passed through my room a moment ago and said with his hand on my shoulder. "Get away to bed, Nikhil, the night is far advanced." The fact is, it has become so difficult for me to go to bed till late--till Bimal is fast asleep. In the day-time we meet, and even converse, but what am I to say when we are alone together, in the silence of the night?--so ashamed do I feel in mind and body. "How is it, sir, you have not yet retired?" I asked in my turn. My master smiled a little, as he left me, saying: "My sleeping days are over. I have now attained the waking age." I had written thus far, and was about to rise to go off bedwards when, through the window before me, I saw the heavy pall of July cloud suddenly part a little, and a big star shine through. It seemed to say to me: "Dreamland ties are made, and dreamland ties are broken, but I am here for ever--the everlasting lamp of the bridal night." All at once my heart was full with the thought that my Eternal Love was steadfastly waiting for me through the ages, behind the veil of material things. Through many a life, in many a mirror, have I seen her image--broken mirrors, crooked mirrors, dusty mirrors. Whenever I have sought to make the mirror my very own, and shut it up within my box, I have lost sight of the image. But what of that. What have I to do with the mirror, or even the image? My beloved, your smile shall never fade, and every dawn there shall appear fresh for me the vermilion mark on your forehead! "What childish cajolery of self-deception," mocks some devil from his dark corner--"silly prattle to make children quiet!" That may be. But millions and millions of children, with their million cries, have to be kept quiet. Can it be that all this multitude is quieted with only a lie? No, my Eternal Love cannot deceive me, for she is true! She is true; that is why I have seen her and shall see her so often, even in my mistakes, even through the thickest mist of tears. I have seen her and lost her in the crowd of life's market-place, and found her again; and I shall find her once more when I have escaped through the loophole of death. Ah, cruel one, play with me no longer! If I have failed to track you by the marks of your footsteps on the way, by the scent of your tresses lingering in the air, make me not weep for that for ever. The unveiled star tells me not to fear. That which is eternal must always be there. Now let me go and see my Bimala. She must have spread her tired limbs on the bed, limp after her struggles, and be asleep. I will leave a kiss on her forehead without waking her--that shall be the flower-offering of my worship. I believe I could forget everything after death--all my mistakes, all my sufferings--but some vibration of the memory of that kiss would remain; for the wreath which is being woven out of the kisses of many a successive birth is to crown the Eternal Beloved. As the gong of the watch rang out, sounding the hour of two, my sister-in-law came into the room. "Whatever are you doing, brother dear?" [16] she cried. "For pity's sake go to bed and stop worrying so. I cannot bear to look on that awful shadow of pain on your face." Tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed as she entreated me thus. I could not utter a word, but took the dust of her feet, as I went off to bed. ------ 16. When a relationship is established by marriage, or by mutual understanding arising out of special friendship or affection, the persons so related call each other in terms of such relationship, and not by name. [Trans.]. Bimala's Story VII At first I suspected nothing, feared nothing; I simply felt dedicated to my country. What a stupendous joy there was in this unquestioning surrender. Verily had I realized how, in thoroughness of self-destruction, man can find supreme bliss. For aught I know, this frenzy of mine might have come to a gradual, natural end. But Sandip Babu would not have it so, he would insist on revealing himself. The tone of his voice became as intimate as a touch, every look flung itself on its knees in beggary. And, through it all, there burned a passion which in its violence made as though it would tear me up by the roots, and drag me along by the hair. I will not shirk the truth. This cataclysmal desire drew me by day and by night. It seemed desperately alluring--this making havoc of myself. What a shame it seemed, how terrible, and yet how sweet! Then there was my overpowering curiosity, to which there seemed no limit. He of whom I knew but little, who never could assuredly be mine, whose youth flared so vigorously in a hundred points of flame--oh, the mystery of his seething passions, so immense, so tumultuous! I began with a feeling of worship, but that soon passed away. I ceased even to respect Sandip; on the contrary, I began to look down upon him. Nevertheless this flesh-and-blood lute of mine, fashioned with my feeling and fancy, found in him a master- player. What though I shrank from his touch, and even came to loathe the lute itself; its music was conjured up all the same. I must confess there was something in me which ... what shall I say? ... which makes me wish I could have died! Chandranath Babu, when he finds leisure, comes to me. He has the power to lift my mind up to an eminence from where I can see in a moment the boundary of my life extended on all sides and so realize that the lines, which I took from my bounds, were merely imaginary. But what is the use of it all? Do I really desire emancipation? Let suffering come to our house; let the best in me shrivel up and become black; but let this infatuation not leave me--such seems to be my prayer. When, before my marriage, I used to see a brother-in-law of mine, now dead, mad with drink--beating his wife in his frenzy, and then sobbing and howling in maudlin repentance, vowing never to touch liquor again, and yet, the very same evening, sitting down to drink and drink--it would fill me with disgust. But my intoxication today is still more fearful. The stuff has not to be procured or poured out: it springs within my veins, and I know not how to resist it. Must this continue to the end of my days? Now and again I start and look upon myself, and think my life to be a nightmare which will vanish all of a sudden with all its untruth. It has become so frightfully incongruous. It has no connection with its past. What it is, how it could have come to this pass, I cannot understand. One day my sister-in-law remarked with a cutting laugh: "What a wonderfully hospitable Chota Rani we have! Her guest absolutely will not budge. In our time there used to be guests, too; but they had not such lavish looking after--we were so absurdly taken up with our husbands. Poor brother Nikhil is paying the penalty of being born too modern. He should have come as a guest if he wanted to stay on. Now it looks as if it were time for him to quit ... O you little demon, do your glances never fall, by chance, on his agonized face?" This sarcasm did not touch me; for I knew that these women had it not in them to understand the nature of the cause of my devotion. I was then wrapped in the protecting armour of the exaltation of sacrifice, through which such shafts were powerless to reach and shame me. VIII For some time all talk of the country's cause has been dropped. Our conversation nowadays has become full of modern sex-problems, and various other matters, with a sprinkling of poetry, both old Vaishnava and modern English, accompanied by a running undertone of melody, low down in the bass, such as I have never in my life heard before, which seems to me to sound the true manly note, the note of power. The day had come when all cover was gone. There was no longer even the pretence of a reason why Sandip Babu should linger on, or why I should have confidential talks with him every now and then. I felt thoroughly vexed with myself, with my sister-in- law, with the ways of the world, and I vowed I would never again go to the outer apartments, not if I were to die for it. For two whole days I did not stir out. Then, for the first time, I discovered how far I had travelled. My life felt utterly tasteless. Whatever I touched I wanted to thrust away. I felt myself waiting--from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes --waiting for something, somebody; my blood kept tingling with some expectation. I tried busying myself with extra work. The bedroom floor was clean enough but I insisted on its being scrubbed over again under my eyes. Things were arranged in the cabinets in one kind of order; I pulled them all out and rearranged them in a different way. I found no time that afternoon even to do up my hair; I hurriedly tied it into a loose knot, and went and worried everybody, fussing about the store-room. The stores seemed short, and pilfering must have been going on of late, but I could not muster up the courage to take any particular person to task-- for might not the thought have crossed somebody's mind: "Where were your eyes all these days!" In short, I behaved that day as one possessed. The next day I tried to do some reading. What I read I have no idea, but after a spell of absentmindedness I found I had wandered away, book in hand, along the passage leading towards the outer apartments, and was standing by a window looking out upon the verandah running along the row of rooms on the opposite side of the quadrangle. One of these rooms, I felt, had crossed over to another shore, and the ferry had ceased to ply. I felt like the ghost of myself of two days ago, doomed to remain where I was, and yet not really there, blankly looking out for ever. As I stood there, I saw Sandip come out of his room into the verandah, a newspaper in his hand. I could see that he looked extraordinarily disturbed. The courtyard, the railings, in front, seemed to rouse his wrath. He flung away his newspaper with a gesture which seemed to want to rend the space before him. I felt I could no longer keep my vow. I was about to move on towards the sitting-room, when I found my sister-in-law behind me. "O Lord, this beats everything!" she ejaculated, as she glided away. I could not proceed to the outer apartments. The next morning when my maid came calling, "Rani Mother, it is getting late for giving out the stores," I flung the keys to her, saying, "Tell Harimati to see to it," and went on with some embroidery of English pattern on which I was engaged, seated near the window. Then came a servant with a letter. "From Sandip Babu," said he. What unbounded boldness! What must the messenger have thought? There was a tremor within my breast as I opened the envelope. There was no address on the letter, only the words: __An urgent matter--touching the Cause. Sandip__. I flung aside the embroidery. I was up on my feet in a moment, giving a touch or two to my hair by the mirror. I kept the __sari__ I had on, changing only my jacket--for one of my jackets had its associations. I had to pass through one of the verandahs, where my sister-in- law used to sit in the morning slicing betel-nut. I refused to feel awkward. "Whither away, Chota Rani?" she cried. "To the sitting-room outside." "So early! A matinée, eh?" And, as I passed on without further reply, she hummed after me a flippant song. IX When I was about to enter the sitting-room, I saw Sandip immersed in an illustrated catalogue of British Academy pictures, with his back to the door. He has a great notion of himself as an expert in matters of Art. One day my husband said to him: "If the artists ever want a teacher, they need never lack for one so long as you are there." It had not been my husband's habit to speak cuttingly, but latterly there has been a change and he never spares Sandip. "What makes you suppose that artists need no teachers?" Sandip retorted. "Art is a creation," my husband replied. "So we should humbly be content to receive our lessons about Art from the work of the artist." Sandip laughed at this modesty, saying: "You think that meekness is a kind of capital which increases your wealth the more you use it. It is my conviction that those who lack pride only float about like water reeds which have no roots in the soil." My mind used to be full of contradictions when they talked thus. On the one hand I was eager that my husband should win in argument and that Sandip's pride should be shamed. Yet, on the other, it was Sandip's unabashed pride which attracted me so. It shone like a precious diamond, which knows no diffidence, and sparkles in the face of the sun itself. I entered the room. I knew Sandip could hear my footsteps as I went forward, but he pretended not to, and kept his eyes on the book. I dreaded his Art talks, for I could not overcome my delicacy about the pictures he talked of, and the things he said, and had much ado in putting on an air of overdone insensibility to hide my qualms. So, I was almost on the point of retracing my steps, when, with a deep sigh, Sandip raised his eyes, and affected to be startled at the sight of me. "Ah, you have come!" he said. In his words, in his tone, in his eyes, there was a world of suppressed reproach, as if the claims he had acquired over me made my absence, even for these two or three days, a grievous wrong. I knew this attitude was an insult to me, but, alas, I had not the power to resent it. I made no reply, but though I was looking another way, I could not help feeling that Sandip's plaintive gaze had planted itself right on my face, and would take no denial. I did so wish he would say something, so that I could shelter myself behind his words. I cannot tell how long this went on, but at last I could stand it no longer. "What is this matter," I asked, "you are wanting to tell me about?" Sandip again affected surprise as he said: "Must there always be some matter? Is friendship by itself a crime? Oh, Queen Bee, to think that you should make so light of the greatest thing on earth! Is the heart's worship to be shut out like a stray cur?" There was again that tremor within me. I could feel the crisis coming, too importunate to be put off. Joy and fear struggled for the mastery. Would my shoulders, I wondered, be broad enough to stand its shock, or would it not leave me overthrown, with my face in the dust? I was trembling all over. Steadying myself with an effort I repeated: "You summoned me for something touching the Cause, so I have left my household duties to attend to it." "That is just what I was trying to explain," he said, with a dry laugh. "Do you not know that I come to worship? Have I not told you that, in you, I visualize the __Shakti__ of our country? The Geography of a country is not the whole truth. No one can give up his life for a map! When I see you before me, then only do I realize how lovely my country is. When you have anointed me with your own hands, then shall I know I have the sanction of my country; and if, with that in my heart, I fall fighting, it shall not be on the dust of some map-made land, but on a lovingly spread skirt--do you know what kind of skirt?--like that of the earthen-red __sari__ you wore the other day, with a broad blood-red border. Can I ever forget it? Such are the visions which give vigour to life, and joy to death!" Sandip's eyes took fire as he went on, but whether it was the fire of worship, or of passion, I could not tell. I was reminded of the day on which I first heard him speak, when I could not be sure whether he was a person, or just a living flame. I had not the power to utter a word. You cannot take shelter behind the walls of decorum when in a moment the fire leaps up and, with the flash of its sword and the roar of its laughter, destroys all the miser's stores. I was in terror lest he should forget himself and take me by the hand. For he shook like a quivering tongue of fire; his eyes showered scorching sparks on me. "Are you for ever determined," he cried after a pause, "to make gods of your petty household duties--you who have it in you to send us to life or to death? Is this power of yours to be kept veiled in a zenana? Cast away all false shame, I pray you; snap your fingers at the whispering around. Take your plunge today into the freedom of the outer world." When, in Sandip's appeals, his worship of the country gets to be subtly interwoven with his worship of me, then does my blood dance, indeed, and the barriers of my hesitation totter. His talks about Art and Sex, his distinctions between Real and Unreal, had but clogged my attempts at response with some revolting nastiness. This, however, now burst again into a glow before which my repugnance faded away. I felt that my resplendent womanhood made me indeed a goddess. Why should not its glory flash from my forehead with visible brilliance? Why does not my voice find a word, some audible cry, which would be like a sacred spell to my country for its fire initiation? All of a sudden my maid Khema rushed into the room, dishevelled. "Give me my wages and let me go," she screamed. "Never in all my life have I been so ..." The rest of her speech was drowned in sobs. "What is the matter?" Thako, the Bara Rani's maid, it appeared, had for no rhyme or reason reviled her in unmeasured terms. She was in such a state, it was no manner of use trying to pacify her by saying I would look into the matter afterwards. The slime of domestic life that lay beneath the lotus bank of womanhood came to the surface. Rather than allow Sandip a prolonged vision of it, I had to hurry back within. X My sister-in-law was absorbed in her betel-nuts, the suspicion of a smile playing about her lips, as if nothing untoward had happened. She was still humming the same song. "Why has your Thako been calling poor Khema names?" I burst out. "Indeed? The wretch! I will have her broomed out of the house. What a shame to spoil your morning out like this! As for Khema, where are the hussy's manners to go and disturb you when you are engaged? Anyhow, Chota Rani, don't you worry yourself with these domestic squabbles. Leave them to me, and return to your friend." How suddenly the wind in the sails of our mind veers round! This going to meet Sandip outside seemed, in the light of the zenana code, such an extraordinarily out-of-the-way thing to do that I went off to my own room, at a loss for a reply. I knew this was my sister-in-law's doing and that she had egged her maid on to contrive this scene. But I had brought myself to such an unstable poise that I dared not have my fling. Why, it was only the other day that I found I could not keep up to the last the unbending hauteur with which I had demanded from my husband the dismissal of the man Nanku. I felt suddenly abashed when the Bara Rani came up and said: "It is really all my fault, brother dear. We are old-fashioned folk, and I did not quite like the ways of your Sandip Babu, so I only told the guard ... but how was I to know that our Chota Rani would take this as an insult?--I thought it would be the other way about! Just my incorrigible silliness!" The thing which seems so glorious when viewed from the heights of the country's cause, looks so muddy when seen from the bottom. One begins by getting angry, and then feels disgusted. I shut myself into my room, sitting by the window, thinking how easy life would be if only one could keep in harmony with one's surroundings. How simply the senior Rani sits in her verandah with her betel-nuts and how inaccessible to me has become my natural seat beside my daily duties! Where will it all end, I asked myself? Shall I ever recover, as from a delirium, and forget it all; or am I to be dragged to depths from which there can be no escape in this life? How on earth did I manage to let my good fortune escape me, and spoil my life so? Every wall of this bedroom of mine, which I first entered nine years ago as a bride, stares at me in dismay. When my husband came home, after his M.A. examination, he brought for me this orchid belonging to some far-away land beyond the seas. From beneath these few little leaves sprang such a cascade of blossoms, it looked as if they were pouring forth from some overturned urn of Beauty. We decided, together, to hang it here, over this window. It flowered only that once, but we have always been in hope of its doing so once more. Curiously enough I have kept on watering it these days, from force of habit, and it is still green. It is now four years since I framed a photograph of my husband in ivory and put it in the niche over there. If I happen to look that way I have to lower my eyes. Up to last week I used regularly to put there the flowers of my worship, every morning after my bath. My husband has often chided me over this. "It shames me to see you place me on a height to which I do not belong," he said one day. "What nonsense!" "I am not only ashamed, but also jealous!" "Just hear him! Jealous of whom, pray?" "Of that false me. It only shows that I am too petty for you, that you want some extraordinary man who can overpower you with his superiority, and so you needs must take refuge in making for yourself another 'me'." "This kind of talk only makes me angry," said I. "What is the use of being angry with me?" he replied. "Blame your fate which allowed you no choice, but made you take me blindfold. This keeps you trying to retrieve its blunder by making me out a paragon." I felt so hurt at the bare idea that tears started to my eyes that day. And whenever I think of that now, I cannot raise my eyes to the niche. For now there is another photograph in my jewel case. The other day, when arranging the sitting-room, I brought away that double photo frame, the one in which Sandip's portrait was next to my husband's. To this portrait I have no flowers of worship to offer, but it remains hidden away under my gems. It has all the greater fascination because kept secret. I look at it now and then with doors closed. At night I turn up the lamp, and sit with it in my hand, gazing and gazing. And every night I think of burning it in the flame of the lamp, to be done with it for ever; but every night I heave a sigh and smother it again in my pearls and diamonds. Ah, wretched woman! What a wealth of love was twined round each one of those jewels! Oh, why am I not dead? Sandip had impressed it on me that hesitation is not in the nature of woman. For her, neither right nor left has any existence--she only moves forward. When the women of our country wake up, he repeatedly insisted, their voice will be unmistakably confident in its utterance of the cry: "I want." "I want!" Sandip went on one day--this was the primal word at the root of all creation. It had no maxim to guide it, but it became fire and wrought itself into suns and stars. Its partiality is terrible. Because it had a desire for man, it ruthlessly sacrificed millions of beasts for millions of years to achieve that desire. That terrible word "I want" has taken flesh in woman, and therefore men, who are cowards, try with all their might to keep back this primeval flood With their earthen dykes. They are afraid lest, laughing and dancing as it goes, it should wash away all the hedges and props of their pumpkin field. Men, in every age, flatter themselves that they have secured this force within the bounds of their convenience, but it gathers and grows. Now it is calm and deep like a lake, but gradually its pressure will increase, the dykes will give way, and the force which has so long been dumb will rush forward with the roar: "I want!" These words of Sandip echo in my heart-beats like a war-drum. They shame into silence all my conflicts with myself. What do I care what people may think of me? Of what value are that orchid and that niche in my bedroom? What power have they to belittle me, to put me to shame? The primal fire of creation burns in me. I felt a strong desire to snatch down the orchid and fling it out of the window, to denude the niche of its picture, to lay bare and naked the unashamed spirit of destruction that raged within me. My arm was raised to do it, but a sudden pang passed through my breast, tears started to my eyes. I threw myself down and sobbed: "What is the end of all this, what is the end?" Sandip's Story IV When I read these pages of the story of my life I seriously question myself: Is this Sandip? Am I made of words? Am I merely a book with a covering of flesh and blood? The earth is not a dead thing like the moon. She breathes. Her rivers and oceans send up vapours in which she is clothed. She is covered with a mantle of her own dust which flies about the air. The onlooker, gazing upon the earth from the outside, can see only the light reflected from this vapour and this dust. The tracks of the mighty continents are not distinctly visible. The man, who is alive as this earth is, is likewise always enveloped in the mist of the ideas which he is breathing out. His real land and water remain hidden, and he appears to be made of only lights and shadows. It seems to me, in this story of my life, that, like a living plant, I am displaying the picture of an ideal world. But I am not merely what I want, what I think--I am also what I do not love, what I do not wish to be. My creation had begun before I was born. I had no choice in regard to my surroundings and so must make the best of such material as comes to my hand. My theory of life makes me certain that the Great is cruel To be just is for ordinary men--it is reserved for the great to be unjust. The surface of the earth was even. The volcano butted it with its fiery horn and found its own eminence--its justice was not towards its obstacle, but towards itself. Successful injustice and genuine cruelty have been the only forces by which individual or nation has become millionaire or monarch. That is why I preach the great discipline of Injustice. I say to everyone: Deliverance is based upon injustice. Injustice is the fire which must keep on burning something in order to save itself from becoming ashes. Whenever an individual or nation becomes incapable of perpetrating injustice it is swept into the dust-bin of the world. As yet this is only my idea--it is not completely myself. There are rifts in the armour through which something peeps out which is extremely soft and sensitive. Because, as I say, the best part of myself was created before I came to this stage of existence. From time to time I try my followers in their lesson of cruelty. One day we went on a picnic. A goat was grazing by. I asked them: "Who is there among you that can cut off a leg of that goat, alive, with this knife, and bring it to me?" While they all hesitated, I went myself and did it. One of them fainted at the sight. But when they saw me unmoved they took the dust of my feet, saying that I was above all human weaknesses. That is to say, they saw that day the vaporous envelope which was my idea, but failed to perceive the inner me, which by a curious freak of fate has been created tender and merciful. In the present chapter of my life, which is growing in interest every day round Bimala and Nikhil, there is also much that remains hidden underneath. This malady of ideas which afflicts me is shaping my life within: nevertheless a great part of my life remains outside its influence; and so there is set up a discrepancy between my outward life and its inner design which I try my best to keep concealed even from myself; otherwise it may wreck not only my plans, but my very life. Life is indefinite--a bundle of contradictions. We men, with our ideas, strive to give it a particular shape by melting it into a particular mould--into the definiteness of success. All the world-conquerors, from Alexander down to the American millionaires, mould themselves into a sword or a mint, and thus find that distinct image of themselves which is the source of their success. The chief controversy between Nikhil and myself arises from this: that though I say "know thyself", and Nikhil also says "know thyself", his interpretation makes this "knowing" tantamount to "not knowing". "Winning your kind of success," Nikhil once objected, "is success gained at the cost of the soul: but the soul is greater than success." I simply said in answer: "Your words are too vague." "That I cannot help," Nikhil replied. "A machine is distinct enough, but not so life. If to gain distinctness you try to know life as a machine, then such mere distinctness cannot stand for truth. The soul is not as distinct as success, and so you only lose your soul if you seek it in your success." "Where, then, is this wonderful soul?" "Where it knows itself in the infinite and transcends its success." "But how does all this apply to our work for the country?" "It is the same thing. Where our country makes itself the final object, it gains success at the cost of the soul. Where it recognizes the Greatest as greater than all, there it may miss success, but gains its soul." "Is there any example of this in history?" "Man is so great that he can despise not only the success, but also the example. Possibly example is lacking, just as there is no example of the flower in the seed. But there is the urgence of the flower in the seed all the same." It is not that I do not at all understand Nikhil's point of view; that is rather where my danger lies. I was born in India and the poison of its spirituality runs in my blood. However loudly I may proclaim the madness of walking in the path of self- abnegation, I cannot avoid it altogether. This is exactly how such curious anomalies happen nowadays in our country. We must have our religion and also our nationalism; our __Bhagavadgita__ and also our __Bande Mataram__. The result is that both of them suffer. It is like performing with an English military band, side by side with our Indian festive pipes. I must make it the purpose of my life to put an end to this hideous confusion. I want the western military style to prevail, not the Indian. We shall then not be ashamed of the flag of our passion, which mother Nature has sent with us as our standard into the battlefield of life. Passion is beautiful and pure--pure as the lily that comes out of the slimy soil. It rises superior to its defilement and needs no Pears' soap to wash it clean. V A question has been worrying me the last few days. Why am I allowing my life to become entangled with Bimala's? Am I a drifting log to be caught up at any and every obstacle? Not that I have any false shame at Bimala becoming an object of my desire. It is only too clear how she wants me, and so I look on her as quite legitimately mine. The fruit hangs on the branch by the stem, but that is no reason why the claim of the stem should be eternal. Ripe fruit cannot for ever swear by its slackening stem-hold. All its sweetness has been accumulated for me; to surrender itself to my hand is the reason of its existence, its very nature, its true morality. So I must pluck it, for it becomes me not to make it futile. But what is teasing me is that I am getting entangled. Am I not born to rule?--to bestride my proper steed, the crowd, and drive it as I will; the reins in my hand, the destination known only to me, and for it the thorns, the mire, on the road? This steed now awaits me at the door, pawing and champing its bit, its neighing filling the skies. But where am I, and what am I about, letting day after day of golden opportunity slip by? I used to think I was like a storm--that the torn flowers with which I strewed my path would not impede my progress. But I am only wandering round and round a flower like a bee--not a storm. So, as I was saying, the colouring of ideas which man gives himself is only superficial. The inner man remains as ordinary as ever. If someone, who could see right into me, were to write my biography, he would make me out to be no different from that lout of a Panchu, or even from Nikhil! Last night I was turning over the pages of my old diary ... I had just graduated, and my brain was bursting with philosophy. Even so early I had vowed not to harbour any illusions, whether of my own or other's imagining, but to build my life on a solid basis of reality. But what has since been its actual story? Where is its solidity? It has rather been a network, where, though the thread be continuous, more space is taken up by the holes. Fight as I may, these will not own defeat. Just as I was congratulating myself on steadily following the thread, here I am badly caught in a hole! For I have become susceptible to compunctions. "I want it; it is here; let me take it"--This is a clear-cut, straightforward policy. Those who can pursue its course with vigour needs must win through in the end. But the gods would not have it that such journey should be easy, so they have deputed the siren Sympathy to distract the wayfarer, to dim his vision with her tearful mist. I can see that poor Bimala is struggling like a snared deer. What a piteous alarm there is in her eyes! How she is torn with straining at her bonds! This sight, of course, should gladden the heart of a true hunter. And so do I rejoice; but, then, I am also touched; and therefore I dally, and standing on the brink I am hesitating to pull the noose fast. There have been moments, I know, when I could have bounded up to her, clasped her hands and folded her to my breast, unresisting. Had I done so, she would not have said one word. She was aware that some crisis was impending, which in a moment would change the meaning of the whole world. Standing before that cavern of the incalculable but yet expected, her face went pale and her eyes glowed with a fearful ecstasy. Within that moment, when it arrives, an eternity will take shape, which our destiny awaits, holding its breath. But I have let this moment slip by. I did not, with uncompromising strength, press the almost certain into the absolutely assured. I now see clearly that some hidden elements in my nature have openly ranged themselves as obstacles in my path. That is exactly how Ravana, whom I look upon as the real hero of the __Ramayana__, met with his doom. He kept Sita in his Asoka garden, awaiting her pleasure, instead of taking her straight into his harem. This weak spot in his otherwise grand character made the whole of the abduction episode futile. Another such touch of compunction made him disregard, and be lenient to, his traitorous brother Bibhisan, only to get himself killed for his pains. Thus does the tragic in life come by its own. In the beginning it lies, a little thing, in some dark under-vault, and ends by overthrowing the whole superstructure. The real tragedy is, that man does not know himself for what he really is. VI Then again there is Nikhil. Crank though he be, laugh at him as I may, I cannot get rid of the idea that he is my friend. At first I gave no thought to his point of view, but of late it has begun to shame and hurt me. Therefore I have been trying to talk and argue with him in the same enthusiastic way as of old, but it does not ring true. It is even leading me at times into such a length of unnaturalness as to pretend to agree with him. But such hypocrisy is not in my nature, nor in that of Nikhil either. This, at least, is something we have in common. That is why, nowadays, I would rather not come across him, and have taken to fighting shy of his presence. All these are signs of weakness. No sooner is the possibility of a wrong admitted than it becomes actual, and clutches you by the throat, however you may then try to shake off all belief in it. What I should like to be able to tell Nikhil frankly is, that happenings such as these must be looked in the face--as great Realities--and that which is the Truth should not be allowed to stand between true friends. There is no denying that I have really weakened. It was not this weakness which won over Bimala; she burnt her wings in the blaze of the full strength of my unhesitating manliness. Whenever smoke obscures its lustre she also becomes confused, and draws back. Then comes a thorough revulsion of feeling, and she fain would take back the garland she has put round my neck, but cannot; and so she only closes her eyes, to shut it out of sight. But all the same I must not swerve from the path I have chalked out. It would never do to abandon the cause of the country, especially at the present time. I shall simply make Bimala one with my country. The turbulent west wind which has swept away the country's veil of conscience, will sweep away the veil of the wife from Bimala's face, and in that uncovering there will be no shame. The ship will rock as it bears the crowd across the ocean, flying the pennant of __Bande Mataram__, and it will serve as the cradle to my power, as well as to my love. Bimala will see such a majestic vision of deliverance, that her bonds will slip from about her, without shame, without her even being aware of it. Fascinated by the beauty of this terrible wrecking power, she will not hesitate a moment to be cruel. I have seen in Bimala's nature the cruelty which is the inherent force of existence--the cruelty which with its unrelenting might keeps the world beautiful. If only women could be set free from the artificial fetters put round them by men, we could see on earth the living image of Kali, the shameless, pitiless goddess. I am a worshipper of Kali, and one day I shall truly worship her, setting Bimala on her altar of Destruction. For this let me get ready. The way of retreat is absolutely closed for both of us. We shall despoil each other: get to hate each other: but never more be free. Chapter Five Nikhil's Story IV EVERYTHING is rippling and waving with the flood of August. The young shoots of rice have the sheen of an infant's limbs. The water has invaded the garden next to our house. The morning light, like the love of the blue sky, is lavished upon the earth ... Why cannot I sing? The water of the distant river is shimmering with light; the leaves are glistening; the rice- fields, with their fitful shivers, break into gleams of gold; and in this symphony of Autumn, only I remain voiceless. The sunshine of the world strikes my heart, but is not reflected back. When I realize the lack of expressiveness in myself, I know why I am deprived. Who could bear my company day and night without a break? Bimala is full of the energy of life, and so she has never become stale to me for a moment, in all these nine years of our wedded life. My life has only its dumb depths; but no murmuring rush. I can only receive: not impart movement. And therefore my company is like fasting. I recognize clearly today that Bimala has been languishing because of a famine of companionship. Then whom shall I blame? Like Vidyapati I can only lament: /* It is August, the sky breaks into a passionate rain; Alas, empty is my house. */ My house, I now see, was built to remain empty, because its doors cannot open. But I never knew till now that its divinity had been sitting outside. I had fondly believed that she had accepted my sacrifice, and granted in return her boon. But, alas, my house has all along been empty. Every year, about this time, it was our practice to go in a house-boat over the broads of Samalda. I used to tell Bimala that a song must come back to its refrain over and over again. The original refrain of every song is in Nature, where the rain- laden wind passes over the rippling stream, where the green earth, drawing its shadow-veil over its face, keeps its ear close to the speaking water. There, at the beginning of time, a man and a woman first met--not within walls. And therefore we two must come back to Nature, at least once a year, to tune our love anew to the first pure note of the meeting of hearts. The first two anniversaries of our married life I spent in Calcutta, where I went through my examinations. But from the next year onwards, for seven years without a break, we have celebrated our union among the blossoming water-lilies. Now begins the next octave of my life. It was difficult for me to ignore the fact that the same month of August had come round again this year. Does Bimala remember it, I wonder?--she has given me no reminder. Everything is mute about me. /* It is August, the sky breaks into a passionate rain; Alas, empty is my house. */ The house which becomes empty through the parting of lovers, still has music left in the heart of its emptiness. But the house that is empty because hearts are asunder, is awful in its silence. Even the cry of pain is out of place there. This cry of pain must be silenced in me. So long as I continue to suffer, Bimala will never have true freedom. I must free her completely, otherwise I shall never gain my freedom from untruth ... I think I have come to the verge of understanding one thing. Man has so fanned the flame of the loves of men and women, as to make it overpass its rightful domain, and now, even in the name of humanity itself, he cannot bring it back under control. Man's worship has idolized his passion. But there must be no more human sacrifices at its shrine ... I went into my bedroom this morning, to fetch a book. It is long since I have been there in the day-time. A pang passed through me as I looked round it today, in the morning light. On the clothes rack was hanging a __sari__ of Bimala's, crinkled ready for wear. On the dressing-table were her perfumes, her comb, her hair-pins, and with them, still, her vermilion box! Underneath were her tiny gold-embroidered slippers. Once, in the old days, when Bimala had not yet overcome her objections to shoes, I had got these out from Lucknow, to tempt her. The first time she was ready to drop for very shame, to go in them even from the room to the verandah. Since then she has worn out many shoes, but has treasured up this pair. When first showing her the slippers, I chaffed her over a curious practice of hers; "I have caught you taking the dust of my feet, thinking me asleep! These are the offerings of my worship to ward the dust off the feet of my wakeful divinity." "You must not say such things," she protested, "or I will never wear your shoes!" This bedroom of mine--it has a subtle atmosphere which goes straight to my heart. I was never aware, as I am today, how my thirsting heart has been sending out its roots to cling round each and every familiar object. The severing of the main root, I see, is not enough to set life free. Even these little slippers serve to hold one back. My wandering eyes fall on the niche. My portrait there is looking the same as ever, in spite of the flowers scattered round it having been withered black! Of all the things in the room their greeting strikes me as sincere. They are still here simply because it was not felt worth while even to remove them. Never mind; let me welcome truth, albeit in such sere and sorry garb, and look forward to the time when I shall be able to do so unmoved, as does my photograph. As I stood there, Bimal came in from behind. I hastily turned my eyes from the niche to the shelves as I muttered: "I came to get Amiel's Journal." What need had Ito volunteer an explanation? I felt like a wrong-doer, a trespasser, prying into a secret not meant for me. I could not look Bimal in the face, but hurried away. V I had just made the discovery that it was useless to keep up a pretence of reading in my room outside, and also that it was equally beyond me to busy myself attending to anything at all--so that all the days of my future bid fair to congeal into one solid mass and settle heavily on my breast for good--when Panchu, the tenant of a neighbouring __zamindar__, came up to me with a basketful of cocoa-nuts and greeted me with a profound obeisance. "Well, Panchu," said I. "What is all this for?" I had got to know Panchu through my master. He was extremely poor, nor was I in a position to do anything for him; so I supposed this present was intended to procure a tip to help the poor fellow to make both ends meet. I took some money from my purse and held it out towards him, but with folded hands he protested: "I cannot take that, sir!" "Why, what is the matter?" "Let me make a clean breast of it, sir. Once, when I was hard pressed, I stole some cocoa-nuts from the garden here. I am getting old, and may die any day, so I have come to pay them back." Amiel's Journal could not have done me any good that day. But these words of Panchu lightened my heart. There are more things in life than the union or separation of man and woman. The great world stretches far beyond, and one can truly measure one's joys and sorrows when standing in its midst. Panchu was devoted to my master. I know well enough how he manages to eke out a livelihood. He is up before dawn every day, and with a basket of __pan__ leaves, twists of tobacco, coloured cotton yarn, little combs, looking-glasses, and other trinkets beloved of the village women, he wades through the knee- deep water of the marsh and goes over to the Namasudra quarters. There he barters his goods for rice, which fetches him a little more than their price in money. If he can get back soon enough he goes out again, after a hurried meal, to the sweetmeat seller's, where he assists in beating sugar for wafers. As soon as he comes home he sits at his shell-bangle making, plodding on often till midnight. All this cruel toil does not earn, for himself and his family, a bare two meals a day during much more than half the year. His method of eating is to begin with a good filling draught of water, and his staple food is the cheapest kind of seedy banana. And yet the family has to go with only one meal a day for the rest of the year. At one time I had an idea of making him a charity allowance, "But," said my master, "your gift may destroy the man, it cannot destroy the hardship of his lot. Mother Bengal has not only this one Panchu. If the milk in her breasts has run dry, that cannot be supplied from the outside." These are thoughts which give one pause, and I decided to devote myself to working it out. That very day I said to Bimal: "Let us dedicate our lives to removing the root of this sorrow in our country." "You are my Prince Siddharta, [17] I see," she replied with a smile. "But do not let the torrent of your feelings end by sweeping me away also!" "Siddharta took his vows alone. I want ours to be a joint arrangement." The idea passed away in talk. The fact is, Bimala is at heart what is called a "lady". Though her own people are not well off, she was born a Rani. She has no doubts in her mind that there is a lower unit of measure for the trials and troubles of the "lower classes". Want is, of course, a permanent feature of their lives, but does not necessarily mean "want" to them. Their very smallness protects them, as the banks protect the pool; by widening bounds only the slime is exposed. The real fact is that Bimala has only come into my home, not into my life. I had magnified her so, leaving her such a large place, that when I lost her, my whole way of life became narrow and confined. I had thrust aside all other objects into a corner to make room for Bimala--taken up as I was with decorating her and dressing her and educating her and moving round her day and night; forgetting how great is humanity and how nobly precious is man's life. When the actualities of everyday things get the better of the man, then is Truth lost sight of and freedom missed. So painfully important did Bimala make the mere actualities, that the truth remained concealed from me. That is why I find no gap in my misery, and spread this minute point of my emptiness over all the world. And so, for hours on this Autumn morning, the refrain has been humming in my ears: /* It is the month of August, and the sky breaks into a passionate rain; Alas, my house is empty. */ ------ 17. The name by which Buddha was known when a Prince, before renouncing the world. Bimala's Story XI The change which had, in a moment, come over the mind of Bengal was tremendous. It was as if the Ganges had touched the ashes of the sixty thousand sons of Sagar [18] which no fire could enkindle, no other water knead again into living clay. The ashes of lifeless Bengal suddenly spoke up: "Here am I." I have read somewhere that in ancient Greece a sculptor had the good fortune to impart life to the image made by his own hand. Even in that miracle, however, there was the process of form preceding life. But where was the unity in this heap of barren ashes? Had they been hard like stone, we might have had hopes of some form emerging, even as Ahalya, though turned to stone, at last won back her humanity. But these scattered ashes must have dropped to the dust through gaps in the Creator's fingers, to be blown hither and thither by the wind. They had become heaped up, but were never before united. Yet in this day which had come to Bengal, even this collection of looseness had taken shape, and proclaimed in a thundering voice, at our very door: "Here I am." How could we help thinking that it was all supernatural? This moment of our history seemed to have dropped into our hand like a jewel from the crown of some drunken god. It had no resemblance to our past; and so we were led to hope that all our wants and miseries would disappear by the spell of some magic charm, that for us there was no longer any boundary line between the possible and the impossible. Everything seemed to be saying to us: "It is coming; it has come!" Thus we came to cherish the belief that our history needed no steed, but that like heaven's chariot it would move with its own inherent power--At least no wages would have to be paid to the charioteer; only his wine cup would have to be filled again and again. And then in some impossible paradise the goal of our hopes would be reached. My husband was not altogether unmoved, but through all our excitement it was the strain of sadness in him which deepened and deepened. He seemed to have a vision of something beyond the surging present. I remember one day, in the course of the arguments he continually had with Sandip, he said: "Good fortune comes to our gate and announces itself, only to prove that we have not the power to receive it--that we have not kept things ready to be able to invite it into our house." "No," was Sandip's answer. "You talk like an atheist because you do not believe in our gods. To us it has been made quite visible that the Goddess has come with her boon, yet you distrust the obvious signs of her presence." "It is because I strongly believe in my God," said my husband, "that I feel so certain that our preparations for his worship are lacking. God has power to give the boon, but we must have power to accept it." This kind of talk from my husband would only annoy me. I could not keep from joining in: "You think this excitement is only a fire of drunkenness, but does not drunkenness, up to a point, give strength?" "Yes," my husband replied. "It may give strength, but not weapons." "But strength is the gift of God," I went on. "Weapons can be supplied by mere mechanics." My husband smiled. "The mechanics will claim their wages before they deliver their supplies," he said. Sandip swelled his chest as he retorted: "Don't you trouble about that. Their wages shall be paid." "I shall bespeak the festive music when the payment has been made, not before," my husband answered. "You needn't imagine that we are depending on your bounty for the music," said Sandip scornfully. "Our festival is above all money payments." And in his thick voice he began to sing: /* "My lover of the unpriced love, spurning payments, Plays upon the simple pipe, bought for nothing, Drawing my heart away." */ Then with a smile he turned to me and said: "If I sing, Queen Bee, it is only to prove that when music comes into one's life, the lack of a good voice is no matter. When we sing merely on the strength of our tunefulness, the song is belittled. Now that a full flood of music has swept over our country, let Nikhil practise his scales, while we rouse the land with our cracked voices: /* "My house cries to me: Why go out to lose your all? My life says: All that you have, fling to the winds! If we must lose our all, let us lose it: what is it worth after all? If I must court ruin, let me do it smilingly; For my quest is the death-draught of immortality. */ "The truth is, Nikhil, that we have all lost our hearts. None can hold us any longer within the bounds of the easily possible, in our forward rush to the hopelessly impossible. /* "Those who would draw us back, They know not the fearful joy of recklessness. They know not that we have had our call From the end of the crooked path. All that is good and straight and trim-- Let it topple over in the dust." */ I thought that my husband was going to continue the discussion, but he rose silently from his seat and left us. The thing that was agitating me within was merely a variation of the stormy passion outside, which swept the country from one end to the other. The car of the wielder of my destiny was fast approaching, and the sound of its wheels reverberated in my being. I had a constant feeling that something extraordinary might happen any moment, for which, however, the responsibility would not be mine. Was I not removed from the plane in which right and wrong, and the feelings of others, have to be considered? Had I ever wanted this--had I ever been waiting or hoping for any such thing? Look at my whole life and tell me then, if I was in any way accountable. Through all my past I had been consistent in my devotion--but when at length it came to receiving the boon, a different god appeared! And just as the awakened country, with its __Bande Mataram__, thrills in salutation to the unrealized future before it, so do all my veins and nerves send forth shocks of welcome to the unthought-of, the unknown, the importunate Stranger. One night I left my bed and slipped out of my room on to the open terrace. Beyond our garden wall are fields of ripening rice. Through the gaps in the village groves to the North, glimpses of the river are seen. The whole scene slept in the darkness like the vague embryo of some future creation. In that future I saw my country, a woman like myself, standing expectant. She has been drawn forth from her home corner by the sudden call of some Unknown. She has had no time to pause or ponder, or to light herself a torch, as she rushes forward into the darkness ahead. I know well how her very soul responds to the distant flute-strains which call her; how her breast rises and falls; how she feels she nears it, nay it is already hers, so that it matters not even if she run blindfold. She is no mother. There is no call to her of children in their hunger, no home to be lighted of an evening, no household work to be done. So; she hies to her tryst, for this is the land of the Vaishnava Poets. She has left home, forgotten domestic duties; she has nothing but an unfathomable yearning which hurries her on--by what road, to what goal, she recks not. I, also, am possessed of just such a yearning. I likewise have lost my home and also lost my way. Both the end and the means have become equally shadowy to me. There remain only the yearning and the hurrying on. Ah! wretched wanderer through the night, when the dawn reddens you will see no trace of a way to return. But why return? Death will serve as well. If the Dark which sounded the flute should lead to destruction, why trouble about the hereafter? When I am merged in its blackness, neither I, nor good and bad, nor laughter, nor tears, shall be any more! ------ 18. The condition of the curse which had reduced them to ashes was such that they could only be restored to life if the stream of the Ganges was brought down to them. [Trans.]. XII In Bengal the machinery of time being thus suddenly run at full pressure, things which were difficult became easy, one following soon after another. Nothing could be held back any more, even in our corner of the country. In the beginning our district was backward, for my husband was unwilling to put any compulsion on the villagers. "Those who make sacrifices for their country's sake are indeed her servants," he would say, "but those who compel others to make them in her name are her enemies. They would cut freedom at the root, to gain it at the top." But when Sandip came and settled here, and his followers began to move about the country, speaking in towns and market-places, waves of excitement came rolling up to us as well. A band of young fellows of the locality attached themselves to him, some even who had been known as a disgrace to the village. But the glow of their genuine enthusiasm lighted them up, within as well as without. It became quite clear that when the pure breezes of a great joy and hope sweep through the land, all dirt and decay are cleansed away. It is hard, indeed, for men to be frank and straight and healthy, when their country is in the throes of dejection. Then were all eyes turned on my husband, from whose estates alone foreign sugar and salt and cloths had not been banished. Even the estate officers began to feel awkward and ashamed over it. And yet, some time ago, when my husband began to import country- made articles into our village, he had been secretly and openly twitted for his folly, by old and young alike. When __Swadeshi__ had not yet become a boast, we had despised it with all our hearts. My husband still sharpens his Indian-made pencils with his Indian-made knife, does his writing with reed pens, drinks his water out of a bell-metal vessel, and works at night in the light of an old-fashioned castor-oil lamp. But this dull, milk-and- water __Swadeshi__ of his never appealed to us. Rather, we had always felt ashamed of the inelegant, unfashionable furniture of his reception-rooms, especially when he had the magistrate, or any other European, as his guest. My husband used to make light of my protests. "Why allow such trifles to upset you?" he would say with a smile. "They will think us barbarians, or at all events wanting in refinement." "If they do, I will pay them back by thinking that their refinement does not go deeper than their white skins." My husband had an ordinary brass pot on his writing-table which he used as a flower-vase. It has often happened that, when I had news of some European guest, I would steal into his room and put in its place a crystal vase of European make. "Look here, Bimala," he objected at length, "that brass pot is as unconscious of itself as those blossoms are; but this thing protests its purpose so loudly, it is only fit for artificial flowers." The Bara Rani, alone, pandered to my husband's whims. Once she comes panting to say: "Oh, brother, have you heard? Such lovely Indian soaps have come out! My days of luxury are gone by; still, if they contain no animal fat, I should like to try some." This sort of thing makes my husband beam all over, and the house is deluged with Indian scents and soaps. Soaps indeed! They are more like lumps of caustic soda. And do I not know that what my sister-in-law uses on herself are the European soaps of old, while these are made over to the maids for washing clothes? Another time it is: "Oh, brother dear, do get me some of these new Indian pen-holders." Her "brother" bubbles up as usual, and the Bara Rani's room becomes littered with all kinds of awful sticks that go by the name of __Swadeshi__ pen-holders. Not that it makes any difference to her, for reading and writing are out of her line. Still, in her writing-case, lies the selfsame ivory pen-holder, the only one ever handled. The fact is, all this was intended as a hit at me, because I would not keep my husband company in his vagaries. It was no good trying to show up my sister-in-law's insincerity; my husband's face would set so hard, if I barely touched on it. One only gets into trouble, trying to save such people from being imposed upon! The Bara Rani loves sewing. One day I could not help blurting out: "What a humbug you are, sister! When your 'brother' is present, your mouth waters at the very mention of __Swadeshi__ scissors, but it is the English-made article every time when you work." "What harm?" she replied. "Do you not see what pleasure it gives him? We have grown up together in this house, since he was a boy. I simply cannot bear, as you can, the sight of the smile leaving his face. Poor dear, he has no amusement except this playing at shop-keeping. You are his only dissipation, and you will yet be his ruin!" "Whatever you may say, it is not right to be double-faced," I retorted. My sister-in-law laughed out in my face. "Oh, our artless little Chota Rani!--straight as a schoolmaster's rod, eh? But a woman is not built that way. She is soft and supple, so that she may bend without being crooked." I could not forget those words: "You are his dissipation, and will be his ruin!" Today I feel--if a man needs must have some intoxicant, let it not be a woman. XIII Suksar, within our estates, is one of the biggest trade centres in the district. On one side of a stretch of water there is held a daily bazar; on the other, a weekly market. During the rains when this piece of water gets connected with the river, and boats can come through, great quantities of cotton yarns, and woollen stuffs for the coming winter, are brought in for sale. At the height of our enthusiasm, Sandip laid it down that all foreign articles, together with the demon of foreign influence, must be driven out of our territory. "Of course!" said I, girding myself up for a fight. "I have had words with Nikhil about it," said Sandip. "He tells me, he does not mind speechifying, but he will not have coercion." "I will see to that," I said, with a proud sense of power. I knew how deep was my husband's love for me. Had I been in my senses I should have allowed myself to be torn to pieces rather than assert my claim to that, at such a time. But Sandip had to be impressed with the full strength of my __Shakti__. Sandip had brought home to me, in his irresistible way, how the cosmic Energy was revealed for each individual in the shape of some special affinity. Vaishnava Philosophy, he said, speaks of the __Shakti__ of Delight that dwells in the heart of creation, ever attracting the heart of her Eternal Lover. Men have a perpetual longing to bring out this __Shakti__ from the hidden depths of their own nature, and those of us who succeed in doing so at once clearly understand the meaning of the music coming to us from the Dark. He broke out singing: /* "My flute, that was busy with its song, Is silent now when we stand face to face. My call went seeking you from sky to sky When you lay hidden; But now all my cry finds its smile In the face of my beloved." */ Listening to his allegories, I had forgotten that I was plain and simple Bimala. I was __Shakti__; also an embodiment of Universal joy. Nothing could fetter me, nothing was impossible for me; whatever I touched would gain new life. The world around me was a fresh creation of mine; for behold, before my heart's response had touched it, there had not been this wealth of gold in the Autumn sky! And this hero, this true servant of the country, this devotee of mine--this flaming intelligence, this burning energy, this shining genius--him also was I creating from moment to moment. Have I not seen how my presence pours fresh life into him time after time? The other day Sandip begged me to receive a young lad, Amulya, an ardent disciple of his. In a moment I could see a new light flash out from the boy's eyes, and knew that he, too, had a vision of __Shakti__ manifest, that my creative force had begun its work in his blood. "What sorcery is this of yours!" exclaimed Sandip next day. "Amulya is a boy no longer, the wick of his life is all ablaze. Who can hide your fire under your home-roof? Every one of them must be touched up by it, sooner or later, and when every lamp is alight what a grand carnival of a __Dewali__ we shall have in the country!" Blinded with the brilliance of my own glory I had decided to grant my devotee this boon. I was overweeningly confident that none could baulk me of what I really wanted. When I returned to my room after my talk with Sandip, I loosed my hair and tied it up over again. Miss Gilby had taught me a way of brushing it up from the neck and piling it in a knot over my head. This style was a favourite one with my husband. "It is a pity," he once said, "that Providence should have chosen poor me, instead of poet Kalidas, for revealing all the wonders of a woman's neck. The poet would probably have likened it to a flower-stem; but I feel it to be a torch, holding aloft the black flame of your hair." With which he ... but why, oh why, do I go back to all that? I sent for my husband. In the old days I could contrive a hundred and one excuses, good or bad, to get him to come to me. Now that all this had stopped for days I had lost the art of contriving. Nikhil's Story VI Panchu's wife has just died of a lingering consumption. Panchu must undergo a purification ceremony to cleanse himself of sin and to propitiate his community. The community has calculated and informed him that it will cost one hundred and twenty-three rupees. "How absurd!" I cried, highly indignant. "Don't submit to this, Panchu. What can they do to you?" Raising to me his patient eyes like those of a tired-out beast of burden, he said: "There is my eldest girl, sir, she will have to be married. And my poor wife's last rites have to be put through." "Even if the sin were yours, Panchu," I mused aloud, "you have surely suffered enough for it already." "That is so, sir," he naïvely assented. "I had to sell part of my land and mortgage the rest to meet the doctor's bills. But there is no escape from the offerings I have to make the Brahmins." What was the use of arguing? When will come the time, I wondered, for the purification of the Brahmins themselves who can accept such offerings? After his wife's illness and funeral, Panchu, who had been tottering on the brink of starvation, went altogether beyond his depth. In a desperate attempt to gain consolation of some sort he took to sitting at the feet of a wandering ascetic, and succeeded in acquiring philosophy enough to forget that his children went hungry. He kept himself steeped for a time in the idea that the world is vanity, and if of pleasure it has none, pain also is a delusion. Then, at last, one night he left his little ones in their tumble-down hovel, and started off wandering on his own account. I knew nothing of this at the time, for just then a veritable ocean-churning by gods and demons was going on in my mind. Nor did my master tell me that he had taken Panchu's deserted children under his own roof and was caring for them, though alone in the house, with his school to attend to the whole day. After a month Panchu came back, his ascetic fervour considerably worn off. His eldest boy and girl nestled up to him, crying: "Where have you been all this time, father?" His youngest boy filled his lap; his second girl leant over his back with her arms around his neck; and they all wept together. "O sir!" sobbed Panchu, at length, to my master. "I have not the power to give these little ones enough to eat--I am not free to run away from them. What has been my sin that I should be scourged so, bound hand and foot?" In the meantime the thread of Panchu's little trade connections had snapped and he found he could not resume them. He clung on to the shelter of my master's roof, which had first received him on his return, and said not a word of going back home. "Look here, Panchu," my master was at last driven to say. "If you don't take care of your cottage, it will tumble down altogether. I will lend you some money with which you can do a bit of peddling and return it me little by little." Panchu was not excessively pleased--was there then no such thing as charity on earth? And when my master asked him to write out a receipt for the money, he felt that this favour, demanding a return, was hardly worth having. My master, however, did not care to make an outward gift which would leave an inward obligation. To destroy self-respect is to destroy caste, was his idea. After signing the note, Panchu's obeisance to my master fell off considerably in its reverence--the dust-taking was left out. It made my master smile; he asked nothing better than that courtesy should stoop less low. "Respect given and taken truly balances the account between man and man," was the way he put it, "but veneration is overpayment." Panchu began to buy cloth at the market and peddle it about the village. He did not get much of cash payment, it is true, but what he could realize in kind, in the way of rice, jute, and other field produce, went towards settlement of his account. In two month's time he was able to pay back an instalment of my master's debt, and with it there was a corresponding reduction in the depth of his bow. He must have begun to feel that he had been revering as a saint a mere man, who had not even risen superior to the lure of lucre. While Panchu was thus engaged, the full shock of the __Swadeshi__ flood fell on him. VII It was vacation time, and many youths of our village and its neighbourhood had come home from their schools and colleges. They attached themselves to Sandip's leadership with enthusiasm, and some, in their excess of zeal, gave up their studies altogether. Many of the boys had been free pupils of my school here, and some held college scholarships from me in Calcutta. They came up in a body, and demanded that I should banish foreign goods from my Suksar market. I told them I could not do it. They were sarcastic: "Why, Maharaja, will the loss be too much for you?" I took no notice of the insult in their tone, and was about to reply that the loss would fall on the poor traders and their customers, not on me, when my master, who was present, interposed. "Yes, the loss will be his--not yours, that is clear enough," he said. "But for one's country . ." "The country does not mean the soil, but the men on it," interrupted my master again. "Have you yet wasted so much as a glance on what was happening to them? But now you would dictate what salt they shall eat, what clothes they shall wear. Why should they put up with such tyranny, and why should we let them?" "But we have taken to Indian salt and sugar and cloth ourselves." "You may do as you please to work off your irritation, to keep up your fanaticism. You are well off, you need not mind the cost. The poor do not want to stand in your way, but you insist on their submitting to your compulsion. As it is, every moment of theirs is a life-and-death struggle for a bare living; you cannot even imagine the difference a few pice means to them--so little have you in common. You have spent your whole past in a superior compartment, and now you come down to use them as tools for the wreaking of your wrath. I call it cowardly." They were all old pupils of my master, so they did not venture to be disrespectful, though they were quivering with indignation. They turned to me. "Will you then be the only one, Maharaja, to put obstacles in the way of what the country would achieve?" "Who am I, that I should dare do such a thing? Would I not rather lay down my life to help it?" The M.A. student smiled a crooked smile, as he asked: "May we enquire what you are actually doing to help?" "I have imported Indian mill-made yarn and kept it for sale in my Suksar market, and also sent bales of it to markets belonging to neighbouring __zamindars__." "But we have been to your market, Maharaja," the same student exclaimed, "and found nobody buying this yarn." "That is neither my fault nor the fault of my market. It only shows the whole country has not taken your vow." "That is not all," my master went on. "It shows that what you have pledged yourselves to do is only to pester others. You want dealers, who have not taken your vow, to buy that yarn; weavers, who have not taken your vow, to make it up; then their wares eventually to be foisted on to consumers who, also, have not taken your vow. The method? Your clamour, and the __zamindars'__ oppression. The result: all righteousness yours, all privations theirs!" "And may we venture to ask, further, what your share of the privation has been?" pursued a science student. "You want to know, do you?" replied my master. "It is Nikhil himself who has to buy up that Indian mill yarn; he has had to start a weaving school to get it woven; and to judge by his past brilliant business exploits, by the time his cotton fabrics leave the loom their cost will be that of cloth-of-gold; so they will only find a use, perhaps, as curtains for his drawing-room, even though their flimsiness may fail to screen him. When you get tired of your vow, you will laugh the loudest at their artistic effect. And if their workmanship is ever truly appreciated at all, it will be by foreigners." I have known my master all my life, but have never seen him so agitated. I could see that the pain had been silently accumulating in his heart for some time, because of his surpassing love for me, and that his habitual self-possession had become secretly undermined to the breaking point. "You are our elders," said the medical student. "It is unseemly that we should bandy words with you. But tell us, pray, finally, are you determined not to oust foreign articles from your market?" "I will not," I said, "because they are not mine." "Because that will cause you a loss!" smiled the M.A. student. "Because he, whose is the loss, is the best judge," retorted my master. With a shout of __Bande Mataram__ they left us. Chapter Six Nikhil's Story VIII A FEW days later, my master brought Panchu round to me. His __zamindar__, it appeared, had fined him a hundred rupees, and was threatening him with ejectment. "For what fault?" I enquired. "Because," I was told, "he has been found selling foreign cloths. He begged and prayed Harish Kundu, his __zamindar__, to let him sell off his stock, bought with borrowed money, promising faithfully never to do it again; but the __zamindar__ would not hear of it, and insisted on his burning the foreign stuff there and then, if he wanted to be let off. Panchu in his desperation blurted out defiantly: "I can't afford it! You are rich; why not buy it up and burn it?" This only made Harish Kundu red in the face as he shouted: "The scoundrel must be taught manners, give him a shoe-beating!" So poor Panchu got insulted as well as fined. "What happened to the cloth?" "The whole bale was burnt." "Who else was there?" "Any number of people, who all kept shouting __Bande Mataram__. Sandip was also there. He took up some of the ashes, crying: 'Brothers! This is the first funeral pyre lighted by your village in celebration of the last rites of foreign commerce. These are sacred ashes. Smear yourselves with them in token of your __Swadeshi__ vow.'" "Panchu," said I, turning to him, "you must lodge a complaint." "No one will bear me witness," he replied. "None bear witness?--Sandip! Sandip!" Sandip came out of his room at my call. "What is the matter?" he asked. "Won't you bear witness to the burning of this man's cloth?" Sandip smiled. "Of course I shall be a witness in the case," he said. "But I shall be on the opposite side." "What do you mean," I exclaimed, "by being a witness on this or that side? Will you not bear witness to the truth?" "Is the thing which happens the only truth?" "What other truths can there be?" "The things that ought to happen! The truth we must build up will require a great deal of untruth in the process. Those who have made their way in the world have created truth, not blindly followed it." "And so--" "And so I will bear what you people are pleased to call false witness, as they have done who have created empires, built up social systems, founded religious organizations. Those who would rule do not dread untruths; the shackles of truth are reserved for those who will fall under their sway. Have you not read history? Do you not know that in the immense cauldrons, where vast political developments are simmering, untruths are the main ingredients?" "Political cookery on a large scale is doubtless going on, but--" "Oh, I know! You, of course, will never do any of the cooking. You prefer to be one of those down whose throats the hotchpotch which is being cooked will be crammed. They will partition Bengal and say it is for your benefit. They will seal the doors of education and call it raising the standard. But you will always remain good boys, snivelling in your corners. We bad men, however, must see whether we cannot erect a defensive fortification of untruth." "It is no use arguing about these things, Nikhil," my master interposed. "How can they who do not feel the truth within them, realize that to bring it out from its obscurity into the light is man's highest aim--not to keep on heaping material outside?" Sandip laughed. "Right, sir!" said he. "Quite a correct speech for a schoolmaster. That is the kind of stuff I have read in books; but in the real world I have seen that man's chief business is the accumulation of outside material. Those who are masters in the art, advertise the biggest lies in their business, enter false accounts in their political ledgers with their broadest-pointed pens, launch their newspapers daily laden with untruths, and send preachers abroad to disseminate falsehood like flies carrying pestilential germs. I am a humble follower of these great ones. When I was attached to the Congress party I never hesitated to dilute ten per cent of truth with ninety per cent of untruth. And now, merely because I have ceased to belong to that party, I have not forgotten the basic fact that man's goal is not truth but success." "True success," corrected my master. "Maybe," replied Sandip, "but the fruit of true success ripens only by cultivating the field of untruth, after tearing up the soil and pounding it into dust. Truth grows up by itself like weeds and thorns, and only worms can expect to get fruit from it!" With this he flung out of the room. My master smiled as he looked towards me. "Do you know, Nikhil," he said, "I believe Sandip is not irreligious--his religion is of the obverse side of truth, like the dark moon, which is still a moon, for all that its light has gone over to the wrong side." "That is why," I assented, "I have always had an affection for him, though we have never been able to agree. I cannot contemn him, even now; though he has hurt me sorely, and may yet hurt me more." "I have begun to realize that," said my master. "I have long wondered how you could go on putting up with him. I have, at times, even suspected you of weakness. I now see that though you two do not rhyme, your rhythm is the same." "Fate seems bent on writing __Paradise Lost__ in blank verse, in my case, and so has no use for a rhyming friend!" I remarked, pursuing his conceit. "But what of Panchu?" resumed my master. "You say Harish Kundu wants to eject him from his ancestral holding. Supposing I buy it up and then keep him on as my tenant?" "And his fine?" "How can the __zamindar__ realize that if he becomes my tenant?" "His burnt bale of cloth?" "I will procure him another. I should like to see anyone interfering with a tenant of mine, for trading as he pleases!" "I am afraid, sir," interposed Panchu despondently, "while you big folk are doing the fighting, the police and the law vultures will merrily gather round, and the crowd will enjoy the fun, but when it comes to getting killed, it will be the turn of only poor me!" "Why, what harm can come to you?" "They will burn down my house, sir, children and all!" "Very well, I will take charge of your children," said my master. "You may go on with any trade you like. They shan't touch you." That very day I bought up Panchu's holding and entered into formal possession. Then the trouble began. Panchu had inherited the holding of his grandfather as his sole surviving heir. Everybody knew this. But at this juncture an aunt turned up from somewhere, with her boxes and bundles, her rosary, and a widowed niece. She ensconced herself in Panchu's home and laid claim to a life interest in all he had. Panchu was dumbfounded. "My aunt died long ago," he protested. In reply he was told that he was thinking of his uncle's first wife, but that the former had lost no time in taking to himself a second. "But my uncle died before my aunt," exclaimed Panchu, still more mystified. "Where was the time for him to marry again?" This was not denied. But Panchu was reminded that it had never been asserted that the second wife had come after the death of the first, but the former had been married by his uncle during the latter's lifetime. Not relishing the idea of living with a co-wife she had remained in her father's house till her husband's death, after which she had got religion and retired to holy Brindaban, whence she was now coming. These facts were well known to the officers of Harish Kundu, as well as to some of his tenants. And if the __zamindar's__ summons should be peremptory enough, even some of those who had partaken of the marriage feast would be forthcoming! IX One afternoon, when I happened to be specially busy, word came to my office room that Bimala had sent for me. I was startled. "Who did you say had sent for me?" I asked the messenger. "The Rani Mother." "The Bara Rani?" "No, sir, the Chota Rani Mother." The Chota Rani! It seemed a century since I had been sent for by her. I kept them all waiting there, and went off into the inner apartments. When I stepped into our room I had another shock of surprise to find Bimala there with a distinct suggestion of being dressed up. The room, which from persistent neglect had latterly acquired an air of having grown absent-minded, had regained something of its old order this afternoon. I stood there silently, looking enquiringly at Bimala. She flushed a little and the fingers of her right hand toyed for a time with the bangles on her left arm. Then she abruptly broke the silence. "Look here! Is it right that ours should be the only market in all Bengal which allows foreign goods?" "What, then, would be the right thing to do?" I asked. "Order them to be cleared out!" "But the goods are not mine." "Is not the market yours?" "It is much more theirs who use it for trade." "Let them trade in Indian goods, then." "Nothing would please me better. But suppose they do not?" "Nonsense! How dare they be so insolent? Are you not ..." "I am very busy this afternoon and cannot stop to argue it out. But I must refuse to tyrannize." "It would not be tyranny for selfish gain, but for the sake of the country." "To tyrannize for the country is to tyrannize over the country. But that I am afraid you will never understand." With this I came away. All of a sudden the world shone out for me with a fresh clearness. I seemed to feel it in my blood, that the Earth had lost the weight of its earthiness, and its daily task of sustaining life no longer appeared a burden, as with a wonderful access of power it whirled through space telling its beads of days and nights. What endless work, and withal what illimitable energy of freedom! None shall check it, oh, none can ever check it! From the depths of my being an uprush of joy, like a waterspout, sprang high to storm the skies. I repeatedly asked myself the meaning of this outburst of feeling. At first there was no intelligible answer. Then it became clear that the bond against which I had been fretting inwardly, night and day, had broken. To my surprise I discovered that my mind was freed from all mistiness. I could see everything relating to Bimala as if vividly pictured on a camera screen. It was palpable that she had specially dressed herself up to coax that order out of me. Till that moment, I had never viewed Bimala's adornment as a thing apart from herself. But today the elaborate manner in which she had done up her hair, in the English fashion, made it appear a mere decoration. That which before had the mystery of her personality about it, and was priceless to me, was now out to sell itself cheap. As I came away from that broken cage of a bedroom, out into the golden sunlight of the open, there was the avenue of bauhinias, along the gravelled path in front of my verandah, suffusing the sky with a rosy flush. A group of starlings beneath the trees were noisily chattering away. In the distance an empty bullock cart, with its nose on the ground, held up its tail aloft--one of its unharnessed bullocks grazing, the other resting on the grass, its eyes dropping for very comfort, while a crow on its back was pecking away at the insects on its body. I seemed to have come closer to the heartbeats of the great earth in all the simplicity of its daily life; its warm breath fell on me with the perfume of the bauhinia blossoms; and an anthem, inexpressibly sweet, seemed to peal forth from this world, where I, in my freedom, live in the freedom of all else. We, men, are knights whose quest is that freedom to which our ideals call us. She who makes for us the banner under which we fare forth is the true Woman for us. We must tear away the disguise of her who weaves our net of enchantment at home, and know her for what she is. We must beware of clothing her in the witchery of our own longings and imaginings, and thus allow her to distract us from our true quest. Today I feel that I shall win through. I have come to the gateway of the simple; I am now content to see things as they are. I have gained freedom myself; I shall allow freedom to others. In my work will be my salvation. I know that, time and again, my heart will ache, but now that I understand its pain in all its truth, I can disregard it. Now that I know it concerns only me, what after all can be its value? The suffering which belongs to all mankind shall be my crown. Save me, Truth! Never again let me hanker after the false paradise of Illusion. If I must walk alone, let me at least tread your path. Let the drum-beats of Truth lead me to Victory. Sandip's Story VII Bimala sent for me that day, but for a time she could not utter a word; her eyes kept brimming up to the verge of overflowing. I could see at once that she had been unsuccessful with Nikhil. She had been so proudly confident that she would have her own way--but I had never shared her confidence. Woman knows man well enough where he is weak, but she is quite unable to fathom him where he is strong. The fact is that man is as much a mystery to woman as woman is to man. If that were not so, the separation of the sexes would only have been a waste of Nature's energy. Ah pride, pride! The trouble was, not that the necessary thing had failed of accomplishment, but that the entreaty, which had cost her such a struggle to make, should have been refused. What a wealth of colour and movement, suggestion and deception, group themselves round this "me" and "mine" in woman. That is just where her beauty lies--she is ever so much more personal than man. When man was being made, the Creator was a schoolmaster-- His bag full of commandments and principles; but when He came to woman, He resigned His headmastership and turned artist, with only His brush and paint-box. When Bimala stood silently there, flushed and tearful in her broken pride, like a storm-cloud, laden with rain and charged with lightning, lowering over the horizon, she looked so absolutely sweet that I had to go right up to her and take her by the hand. It was trembling, but she did not snatch it away. "Bee," said I, "we two are colleagues, for our aims are one. Let us sit down and talk it over." I led her, unresisting, to a seat. But strange! at that very point the rush of my impetuosity suffered an unaccountable check --just as the current of the mighty Padma, roaring on in its irresistible course, all of a sudden gets turned away from the bank it is crumbling by some trifling obstacle beneath the surface. When I pressed Bimala's hand my nerves rang music, like tuned-up strings; but the symphony stopped short at the first movement. What stood in the way? Nothing singly; it was a tangle of a multitude of things--nothing definitely palpable, but only that unaccountable sense of obstruction. Anyhow, this much has become plain to me, that I cannot swear to what I really am. It is because I am such a mystery to my own mind that my attraction for myself is so strong! If once the whole of myself should become known to me, I would then fling it all away--and reach beatitude! As she sat down, Bimala went ashy pale. She, too, must have realized what a crisis had come and gone, leaving her unscathed. The comet had passed by, but the brush of its burning tail had overcome her. To help her to recover herself I said: "Obstacles there will be, but let us fight them through, and not be down- hearted. Is not that best, Queen?" Bimala cleared her throat with a little cough, but simply to murmur: "Yes." "Let us sketch out our plan of action," I continued, as I drew a piece of paper and a pencil from my pocket. I began to make a list of the workers who had joined us from Calcutta and to assign their duties to each. Bimala interrupted me before I was through, saying wearily: "Leave it now; I will join you again this evening" and then she hurried out of the room. It was evident she was not in a state to attend to anything. She must be alone with herself for a while--perhaps lie down on her bed and have a good cry! When she left me, my intoxication began to deepen, as the cloud colours grow richer after the sun is down. I felt I had let the moment of moments slip by. What an awful coward I had been! She must have left me in sheer disgust at my qualms--and she was right! While I was tingling all over with these reflections, a servant came in and announced Amulya, one of our boys. I felt like sending him away for the time, but he stepped in before I could make up my mind. Then we fell to discussing the news of the fights which were raging in different quarters over cloth and sugar and salt; and the air was soon clear of all fumes of intoxication. I felt as if awakened from a dream. I leapt to my feet feeling quite ready for the fray--Bande Mataram! The news was various. Most of the traders who were tenants of Harish Kundu had come over to us. Many of Nikhil's officials were also secretly on our side, pulling the wires in our interest. The Marwari shopkeepers were offering to pay a penalty, if only allowed to clear their present stocks. Only some Mahomedan traders were still obdurate. One of them was taking home some German-made shawls for his family. These were confiscated and burnt by one of our village boys. This had given rise to trouble. We offered to buy him Indian woollen stuffs in their place. But where were cheap Indian woollens to be had? We could not very well indulge him in Cashmere shawls! He came and complained to Nikhil, who advised him to go to law. Of course Nikhil's men saw to it that the trial should come to nothing, even his law-agent being on our side! The point is, if we have to replace burnt foreign clothes with Indian cloth every time, and on the top of that fight through a law-suit, where is the money to come from? And the beauty of it is that this destruction of foreign goods is increasing their demand and sending up the foreigner's profits--very like what happened to the fortunate shopkeeper whose chandeliers the nabob delighted in smashing, tickled by the tinkle of the breaking glass. The next problem is--since there is no such thing as cheap and gaudy Indian woollen stuff, should we be rigorous in our boycott of foreign flannels and memos, or make an exception in their favour? "Look here!" said I at length on the first point, "we are not going to keep on making presents of Indian stuff to those who have got their foreign purchases confiscated. The penalty is intended to fall on them, not on us. If they go to law, we must retaliate by burning down their granaries!--What startles you, Amulya? It is not the prospect of a grand illumination that delights me! You must remember, this is War. If you are afraid of causing suffering, go in for love-making, you will never do for this work!" The second problem I solved by deciding to allow no compromise with foreign articles, in any circumstance whatever. In the good old days, when these gaily coloured foreign shawls were unknown, our peasantry used to manage well enough with plain cotton quilts--they must learn to do so again. They may not look as gorgeous, but this is not the time to think of looks. Most of the boatmen had been won over to refuse to carry foreign goods, but the chief of them, Mirjan, was still insubordinate. "Could you not get his boat sunk?" I asked our manager here. "Nothing easier, sir," he replied. "But what if afterwards I am held responsible?" "Why be so clumsy as to leave any loophole for responsibility? However, if there must be any, my shoulders will be there to bear it." Mirjan's boat was tied near the landing-place after its freight had been taken over to the market-place. There was no one on it, for the manager had arranged for some entertainment to which all had been invited. After dusk the boat, loaded with rubbish, was holed and set adrift. It sank in mid-stream. Mirjan understood the whole thing. He came to me in tears to beg for mercy. "I was wrong, sir--" he began. "What makes you realize that all of a sudden?" I sneered. He made no direct reply. "The boat was worth two thousand rupees," he said. "I now see my mistake, and if excused this time I will never ..." with which he threw himself at my feet. I asked him to come ten days later. If only we could pay him that two thousand rupees at once, we could buy him up body and soul. This is just the sort of man who could render us immense service, if won over. We shall never be able to make any headway unless we can lay our hands on plenty of money. As soon as Bimala came into the sitting-room, in the evening, I said as I rose up to receive her: "Queen! Everything is ready, success is at hand, but we must have money. "Money? How much money?" "Not so very much, but by hook or by crook we must have it!" "But how much?" "A mere fifty thousand rupees will do for the present." Bimala blenched inwardly at the figure, but tried not to show it. How could she again admit defeat? "Queen!" said I, "you only can make the impossible possible. Indeed you have already done so. Oh, that I could show you the extent of your achievement--then you would know it. But the time for that is not now. Now we want money!" "You shall have it," she said. I could see that the thought of selling her jewels had occurred to her. So I said: "Your jewels must remain in reserve. One can never tell when they may be wanted." And then, as Bimala stared blankly at me in silence, I went on: "This money must come from your husband's treasury." Bimala was still more taken aback. After a long pause she said: "But how am Ito get his money?" "Is not his money yours as well?" "Ah, no!" she said, her wounded pride hurt afresh. "If not," I cried, "neither is it his, but his country's, whom he has deprived of it, in her time of need!" "But how am Ito get it?" she repeated. "Get it you shall and must. You know best how. You must get it for Her to whom it rightfully belongs. __Bande Mataram__! These are the magic words which will open the door of his iron safe, break through the walls of his strong-room, and confound the hearts of those who are disloyal to its call. Say __Bande Mataram__, Bee!" "__Bande Mataram__!" Chapter Seven Sandip's Story VIII WE are men, we are kings, we must have our tribute. Ever since we have come upon the Earth we have been plundering her; and the more we claimed, the more she submitted. From primeval days have we men been plucking fruits, cutting down trees, digging up the soil, killing beast, bird and fish. From the bottom of the sea, from underneath the ground, from the very jaws of death, it has all been grabbing and grabbing and grabbing--no strong-box in Nature's store-room has been respected or left unrifled. The one delight of this Earth is to fulfil the claims of those who are men. She has been made fertile and beautiful and complete through her endless sacrifices to them. But for this, she would be lost in the wilderness, not knowing herself, the doors of her heart shut, her diamonds and pearls never seeing the light. Likewise, by sheer force of our claims, we men have opened up all the latent possibilities of women. In the process of surrendering themselves to us, they have ever gained their true greatness. Because they had to bring all the diamonds of their happiness and the pearls of their sorrow into our royal treasury, they have found their true wealth. So for men to accept is truly to give: for women to give is truly to gain. The demand I have just made from Bimala, however, is indeed a large one! At first I felt scruples; for is it not the habit of man's mind to be in purposeless conflict with itself? I thought I had imposed too hard a task. My first impulse was to call her back, and tell her I would rather not make her life wretched by dragging her into all these troubles. I forgot, for the moment, that it was the mission of man to be aggressive, to make woman's existence fruitful by stirring up disquiet in the depth of her passivity, to make the whole world blessed by churning up the immeasurable abyss of suffering! This is why man's hands are so strong, his grip so firm. Bimala had been longing with all her heart that I, Sandip, should demand of her some great sacrifice-- should call her to her death. How else could she be happy? Had she not waited all these weary years only for an opportunity to weep out her heart--so satiated was she with the monotony of her placid happiness? And therefore, at the very sight of me, her heart's horizon darkened with the rain clouds of her impending days of anguish. If I pity her and save her from her sorrows, what then was the purpose of my being born a man? The real reason of my qualms is that my demand happens to be for money. That savours of beggary, for money is man's, not woman's. That is why I had to make it a big figure. A thousand or two would have the air of petty theft. Fifty thousand has all the expanse of romantic brigandage. Ah, but riches should really have been mine! So many of my desires have had to halt, again and again, on the road to accomplishment simply for want of money. This does not become me! Had my fate been merely unjust, it could be forgiven--but its bad taste is unpardonable. It is not simply a hardship that a man like me should be at his wit's end to pay his house rent, or should have to carefully count out the coins for an Intermediate Class railway ticket--it is vulgar! It is equally clear that Nikhil's paternal estates are a superfluity to him. For him it would not have been at all unbecoming to be poor. He would have cheerfully pulled in the double harness of indigent mediocrity with that precious master of his. I should love to have, just for once, the chance to fling about fifty thousand rupees in the service of my country and to the satisfaction of myself. I am a nabob born, and it is a great dream of mine to get rid of this disguise of poverty, though it be for a day only, and to see myself in my true character. I have grave misgivings, however, as to Bimala ever getting that fifty thousand rupees within her reach, and it will probably be only a thousand or two which will actually come to hand. Be it so. The wise man is content with half a loaf, or any fraction for that matter, rather than no bread. I must return to these personal reflections of mine later. News comes that I am wanted at once. Something has gone wrong ... It seems that the police have got a clue to the man who sank Mirjan's boat for us. He was an old offender. They are on his trail, but he should be too practised a hand to be caught blabbing. However, one never knows. Nikhil's back is up, and his manager may not be able to have things his own way. "If I get into trouble, sir," said the manager when I saw him, "I shall have to drag you in!" "Where is the noose with which you can catch me?" I asked. "I have a letter of yours, and several of Amulya Babu's." I could not see that the letter marked "urgent" to which I had been hurried into writing a reply was wanted urgently for this purpose only! I am getting to learn quite a number of things. The point now is, that the police must be bribed and hush-money paid to Mirjan for his boat. It is also becoming evident that much of the cost of this patriotic venture of ours will find its way as profit into the pockets of Nikhil's manager. However, I must shut my eyes to that for the present, for is he not shouting __Bande Mataram__ as lustily as I am? This kind of work has always to be carried on with leaky vessels which let as much through as they fetch in. We all have a hidden fund of moral judgement stored away within us, and so I was about to wax indignant with the manager, and enter in my diary a tirade against the unreliability of our countrymen. But, if there be a god, I must acknowledge with gratitude to him that he has given me a clear-seeing mind, which allows nothing inside or outside it to remain vague. I may delude others, but never myself. So I was unable to continue angry. Whatever is true is neither good nor bad, but simply true, and that is Science. A lake is only the remnant of water which has not been sucked into the ground. Underneath the cult of __Bande Mataram__, as indeed at the bottom of all mundane affairs, there is a region of slime, whose absorbing power must be reckoned with. The manager will take what he wants; I also have my own wants. These lesser wants form a part of the wants of the great Cause--the horse must be fed and the wheels must be oiled if the best progress is to be made. The long and short of it is that money we must have, and that soon. We must take whatever comes the readiest, for we cannot afford to wait. I know that the immediate often swallows up the ultimate; that the five thousand rupees of today may nip in the bud the fifty thousand rupees of tomorrow. But I must accept the penalty. Have I not often twitted Nikhil that they who walk in the paths of restraint have never known what sacrifice is? It is we greedy folk who have to sacrifice our greed at every step! Of the cardinal sins of man, Desire is for men who are men--but Delusion, which is only for cowards, hampers them. Because delusion keeps them wrapped up in past and future, but is the very deuce for confounding their footsteps in the present. Those who are always straining their ears for the call of the remote, to the neglect of the call of the imminent, are like Sakuntala [19] absorbed in the memories of her lover. The guest comes unheeded, and the curse descends, depriving them of the very object of their desire. The other day I pressed Bimala's hand, and that touch still stirs her mind, as it vibrates in mine. Its thrill must not be deadened by repetition, for then what is now music will descend to mere argument. There is at present no room in her mind for the question "why?" So I must not deprive Bimala, who is one of those creatures for whom illusion is necessary, of her full supply of it. As for me, I have so much else to do that I shall have to be content for the present with the foam of the wine cup of passion. O man of desire! Curb your greed, and practise your hand on the harp of illusion till you can bring out all the delicate nuances of suggestion. This is not the time to drain the cup to the dregs. ------ 19. Sakuntala, after the king, her lover, went back to his kingdom, promising to send for her, was so lost in thoughts of him, that she failed to hear the call of her hermit guest who thereupon cursed her, saying that the object of her love would forget all about her. [Trans.]. IX Our work proceeds apace. But though we have shouted ourselves hoarse, proclaiming the Mussulmans to be our brethren, we have come to realize that we shall never be able to bring them wholly round to our side. So they must be suppressed altogether and made to understand that we are the masters. They are now showing their teeth, but one day they shall dance like tame bears to the tune we play. "If the idea of a United India is a true one," objects Nikhil, "Mussulmans are a necessary part of it." "Quite so," said I, "but we must know their place and keep them there, otherwise they will constantly be giving trouble." "So you want to make trouble to prevent trouble?" "What, then, is your plan?" "There is only one well-known way of avoiding quarrels," said Nikhil meaningly. I know that, like tales written by good people, Nikhil's discourse always ends in a moral. The strange part of it is that with all his familiarity with moral precepts, he still believes in them! He is an incorrigible schoolboy. His only merit is his sincerity. The mischief with people like him is that they will not admit the finality even of death, but keep their eyes always fixed on a hereafter. I have long been nursing a plan which, if only I could carry it out, would set fire to the whole country. True patriotism will never be roused in our countrymen unless they can visualize the motherland. We must make a goddess of her. My colleagues saw the point at once. "Let us devise an appropriate image!" they exclaimed. "It will not do if you devise it," I admonished them. "We must get one of the current images accepted as representing the country--the worship of the people must flow towards it along the deep-cut grooves of custom." But Nikhil's needs must argue even about this. "We must not seek the help of illusions," he said to me some time ago, "for what we believe to be the true cause." "Illusions are necessary for lesser minds," I said, "and to this class the greater portion of the world belongs. That is why divinities are set up in every country to keep up the illusions of the people, for men are only too well aware of their weakness." "No," he replied. "God is necessary to clear away our illusions. The divinities which keep them alive are false gods." "What of that? If need be, even false gods must be invoked, rather than let the work suffer. Unfortunately for us, our illusions are alive enough, but we do not know how to make them serve our purpose. Look at the Brahmins. In spite of our treating them as demi-gods, and untiringly taking the dust of their feet, they are a force going to waste. "There will always be a large class of people, given to grovelling, who can never be made to do anything unless they are bespattered with the dust of somebody's feet, be it on their heads or on their backs! What a pity if after keeping Brahmins saved up in our armoury for all these ages--keen and serviceable --they cannot be utilized to urge on this rabble in the time of our need." But it is impossible to drive all this into Nikhil's head. He has such a prejudice in favour of truth--as though there exists such an objective reality! How often have I tried to explain to him that where untruth truly exists, there it is indeed the truth. This was understood in our country in the old days, and so they had the courage to declare that for those of little understanding untruth is the truth. For them, who can truly believe their country to be a goddess, her image will do duty for the truth. With our nature and our traditions we are unable to realize our country as she is, but we can easily bring ourselves to believe in her image. Those who want to do real work must not ignore this fact. Nikhil only got excited. "Because you have lost the power of walking in the path of truth's attainment," he cried, "you keep waiting for some miraculous boon to drop from the skies! That is why when your service to the country has fallen centuries into arrears all you can think of is, to make of it an image and stretch out your hands in expectation of gratuitous favours." "We want to perform the impossible," I said. "So our country needs must be made into a god." "You mean you have no heart for possible tasks," replied Nikhil. "Whatever is already there is to be left undisturbed; yet there must be a supernatural result:" "Look here, Nikhil," I said at length, thoroughly exasperated. "The things you have been saying are good enough as moral lessons. These ideas have served their purpose, as milk for babes, at one stage of man's evolution, but will no longer do, now that man has cut his teeth. "Do we not see before our very eyes how things, of which we never even dreamt of sowing the seed, are sprouting up on every side? By what power? That of the deity in our country who is becoming manifest. It is for the genius of the age to give that deity its image. Genius does not argue, it creates. I only give form to what the country imagines. "I will spread it abroad that the goddess has vouchsafed me a dream. I will tell the Brahmins that they have been appointed her priests, and that their downfall has been due to their dereliction of duty in not seeing to the proper performance of her worship. Do you say I shall be uttering lies? No, say I, it is the truth--nay more, the truth which the country has so long been waiting to learn from my lips. If only I could get the opportunity to deliver my message, you would see the stupendous result." "What I am afraid of," said Nikhil, "is, that my lifetime is limited and the result you speak of is not the final result. It will have after-effects which may not be immediately apparent." "I only seek the result," said I, "which belongs to today." "The result I seek," answered Nikhil, "belongs to all time." Nikhil may have had his share of Bengal's greatest gift-- imagination, but he has allowed it to be overshadowed and nearly killed by an exotic conscientiousness. Just look at the worship of Durga which Bengal has carried to such heights. That is one of her greatest achievements. I can swear that Durga is a political goddess and was conceived as the image of the __Shakti__ of patriotism in the days when Bengal was praying to be delivered from Mussulman domination. What other province of India has succeeded in giving such wonderful visual expression to the ideal of its quest? Nothing betrayed Nikhil's loss of the divine gift of imagination more conclusively than his reply to me. "During the Mussulman domination," he said, "the Maratha and the Sikh asked for fruit from the arms which they themselves took up. The Bengali contented himself with placing weapons in the hands of his goddess and muttering incantations to her; and as his country did not really happen to be a goddess the only fruit he got was the lopped-off heads of the goats and buffaloes of the sacrifice. The day that we seek the good of the country along the path of righteousness, He who is greater than our country will grant us true fruition." The unfortunate part of it is that Nikhil's words sound so fine when put down on paper. My words, however, are not meant to be scribbled on paper, but to be scored into the heart of the country. The Pandit records his Treatise on Agriculture in printer's ink; but the cultivator at the point of his plough impresses his endeavour deep in the soil. X When I next saw Bimala I pitched my key high without further ado. "Have we been able," I began, "to believe with all our heart in the god for whose worship we have been born all these millions of years, until he actually made himself visible to us? "How often have I told you," I continued, "that had I not seen you I never would have known all my country as One. I know not yet whether you rightly understand me. The gods are invisible only in their heaven--on earth they show themselves to mortal men." Bimala looked at me in a strange kind of way as she gravely replied: "Indeed I understand you, Sandip." This was the first time she called me plain Sandip. "Krishna," I continued, "whom Arjuna ordinarily knew only as the driver of his chariot, had also His universal aspect, of which, too, Arjuna had a vision one day, and that day he saw the Truth. I have seen your Universal Aspect in my country. The Ganges and the Brahmaputra are the chains of gold that wind round and round your neck; in the woodland fringes on the distant banks of the dark waters of the river, I have seen your collyrium-darkened eyelashes; the changeful sheen of your __sari__ moves for me in the play of light and shade amongst the swaying shoots of green corn; and the blazing summer heat, which makes the whole sky lie gasping like a red-tongued lion in the desert, is nothing but your cruel radiance. "Since the goddess has vouchsafed her presence to her votary in such wonderful guise, it is for me to proclaim her worship throughout our land, and then shall the country gain new life. 'Your image make we in temple after temple.' [20] But this our people have not yet fully realized. So I would call on them in your name and offer for their worship an image from which none shall be able to withhold belief. Oh give me this boon, this power." Bimala's eyelids drooped and she became rigid in her seat like a figure of stone. Had I continued she would have gone off into a trance. When I ceased speaking she opened wide her eyes, and murmured with fixed gaze, as though still dazed: "O Traveller in the path of Destruction! Who is there that can stay your progress? Do I not see that none shall stand in the way of your desires? Kings shall lay their crowns at your feet; the wealthy shall hasten to throw open their treasure for your acceptance; those who have nothing else shall beg to be allowed to offer their lives. O my king, my god! What you have seen in me I know not, but I have seen the immensity of your grandeur in my heart. Who am I, what am I, in its presence? Ah, the awful power of Devastation! Never shall I truly live till it kills me utterly! I can bear it no longer, my heart is breaking!" Bimala slid down from her seat and fell at my feet, which she clasped, and then she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. This is hypnotism indeed--the charm which can subdue the world! No materials, no weapons--but just the delusion of irresistible suggestion. Who says "Truth shall Triumph"? [21] Delusion shall win in the end. The Bengali understood this when he conceived the image of the ten-handed goddess astride her lion, and spread her worship in the land. Bengal must now create a new image to enchant and conquer the world. __Bande Mataram__! I gently lifted Bimala back into her chair, and lest reaction should set in, I began again without losing time: "Queen! The Divine Mother has laid on me the duty of establishing her worship in the land. But, alas, I am poor!" Bimala was still flushed, her eyes clouded, her accents thick, as she replied: "You poor? Is not all that each one has yours? What are my caskets full of jewellery for? Drag away from me all my gold and gems for your worship. I have no use for them!" Once before Bimala had offered up her ornaments. I am not usually in the habit of drawing lines, but I felt I had to draw the line there. [22] I know why I feel this hesitation. It is for man to give ornaments to woman; to take them from her wounds his manliness. But I must forget myself. Am I taking them? They are for the Divine Mother, to be poured in worship at her feet. Oh, but it must be a grand ceremony of worship such as the country has never beheld before. It must be a landmark in our history. It shall be my supreme legacy to the Nation. Ignorant men worship gods. I, Sandip, shall create them. But all this is a far cry. What about the urgent immediate? At least three thousand is indispensably necessary--five thousand would do roundly and nicely. But how on earth am I to mention money after the high flight we have just taken? And yet time is precious! I crushed all hesitation under foot as I jumped up and made my plunge: "Queen! Our purse is empty, our work about to stop!" Bimala winced. I could see she was thinking of that impossible fifty thousand rupees. What a load she must have been carrying within her bosom, struggling under it, perhaps, through sleepless nights! What else had she with which to express her loving worship? Debarred from offering her heart at my feet, she hankers to make this sum of money, so hopelessly large for her, the bearer of her imprisoned feelings. The thought of what she must have gone through gives me a twinge of pain; for she is now wholly mine. The wrench of plucking up the plant by the roots is over. It is now only careful tending and nurture that is needed. "Queen!" said I, "that fifty thousand rupees is not particularly wanted just now. I calculate that, for the present, five thousand or even three will serve." The relief made her heart rebound. "I shall fetch you five thousand," she said in tones which seemed like an outburst of song--the song which Radhika of the Vaishnava lyrics sang: /* For my lover will I bind in my hair The flower which has no equal in the three worlds! */ --it is the same tune, the same song: five thousand will I bring! That flower will I bind in my hair! The narrow restraint of the flute brings out this quality of song. I must not allow the pressure of too much greed to flatten out the reed, for then, as I fear, music will give place to the questions "Why?" "What is the use of so much?" "How am I to get it?"--not a word of which will rhyme with what Radhika sang! So, as I was saying, illusion alone is real--it is the flute itself; while truth is but its empty hollow. Nikhil has of late got a taste of that pure emptiness--one can see it in his face, which pains even me. But it was Nikhil's boast that he wanted the Truth, while mine was that I would never let go illusion from my grasp. Each has been suited to his taste, so why complain? To keep Bimala's heart in the rarefied air of idealism, I cut short all further discussion over the five thousand rupees. I reverted to the demon-destroying goddess and her worship. When was the ceremony to be held and where? There is a great annual fair at Ruimari, within Nikhil's estates, where hundreds of thousands of pilgrims assemble. That would be a grand place to inaugurate the worship of our goddess! Bimala waxed intensely enthusiastic. This was not the burning of foreign cloth or the people's granaries, so even Nikhil could have no objection--so thought she. But I smiled inwardly. How little these two persons, who have been together, day and night, for nine whole years, know of each other! They know something perhaps of their home life, but when it comes to outside concerns they are entirely at sea. They had cherished the belief that the harmony of the home with the outside was perfect. Today they realize to their cost that it is too late to repair their neglect of years, and seek to harmonize them now. What does it matter? Let those who have made the mistake learn their error by knocking against the world. Why need I bother about their plight? For the present I find it wearisome to keep Bimala soaring much longer, like a captive balloon, in regions ethereal. I had better get quite through with the matter in hand. When Bimala rose to depart and had neared the door I remarked in my most casual manner: "So, about the money ..." Bimala halted and faced back as she said: "On the expiry of the month, when our personal allowances become due ..." "That, I am afraid, would be much too late." "When do you want it then?" "Tomorrow. "Tomorrow you shall have it." ------ 20. A line from Bankim Chatterjee's national song __Bande Mataram__. 21. A quotation from the Upanishads. 22. There is a world of sentiment attached to the ornaments worn by women in Bengal. They are not merely indicative of the love and regard of the giver, but the wearing of them symbolizes all that is held best in wifehood--the constant solicitude for her husband's welfare, the successful performance of the material and spiritual duties of the household entrusted to her care. When the husband dies, and the responsibility for the household changes hands, then are all ornaments cast aside as a sign of the widow's renunciation of worldly concerns. At any other time the giving up of omaments is always a sign of supreme distress and as such appeals acutely to the sense of chivalry of any Bengali who may happen to witness it [Trans.]. Chapter Eight Nikhil's Story X PARAGRAPHS and letters against me have begun to come out in the local papers; cartoons and lampoons are to follow, I am told. Jets of wit and humour are being splashed about, and the lies thus scattered are convulsing the whole country. They know that the monopoly of mud-throwing is theirs, and the innocent passer- by cannot escape unsoiled. They are saying that the residents in my estates, from the highest to the lowest, are in favour of __Swadeshi__, but they dare not declare themselves, for fear of me. The few who have been brave enough to defy me have felt the full rigour of my persecution. I am in secret league with the police, and in private communication with the magistrate, and these frantic efforts of mine to add a foreign title of my own earning to the one I have inherited, will not, it is opined, go in vain. On the other hand, the papers are full of praise for those devoted sons of the motherland, the Kundu and the Chakravarti __zamindars__. If only, say they, the country had a few more of such staunch patriots, the mills of Manchester would have, had to sound their own dirge to the tune of __Bande Mataram__. Then comes a letter in blood-red ink, giving a list of the traitorous __zamindars__ whose treasuries have been burnt down because of their failing to support the Cause. Holy Fire, it goes on to say, has been aroused to its sacred function of purifying the country; and other agencies are also at work to see that those who are not true sons of the motherland do cease to encumber her lap. The signature is an obvious __nom-de- plume__. I could see that this was the doing of our local students. So I sent for some of them and showed them the letter. The B.A. student gravely informed me that they also had heard that a band of desperate patriots had been formed who would stick at nothing in order to clear away all obstacles to the success of __Swadeshi__. "If," said I, "even one of our countrymen succumbs to these overbearing desperadoes, that will indeed be a defeat for the country!" "We fail to follow you, Maharaja," said the history student. "'Our country," I tried to explain, "has been brought to death's door through sheer fear--from fear of the gods down to fear of the police; and if you set up, in the name of freedom, the fear of some other bogey, whatever it may be called; if you would raise your victorious standard on the cowardice of the country by means of downright oppression, then no true lover of the country can bow to your decision." "Is there any country, sir," pursued the history student, "where submission to Government is not due to fear?" "The freedom that exists in any country," I replied, "may be measured by the extent of this reign of fear. Where its threat is confined to those who would hurt or plunder, there the Government may claim to have freed man from the violence of man. But if fear is to regulate how people are to dress, where they shall trade, or what they must eat, then is man's freedom of will utterly ignored, and manhood destroyed at the root." "Is not such coercion of the individual will seen in other countries too?" continued the history student. "Who denies it?" I exclaimed. "But in every country man has destroyed himself to the extent that he has permitted slavery to flourish." "Does it not rather show," interposed a Master of Arts, "that trading in slavery is inherent in man--a fundamental fact of his nature?" "Sandip Babu made the whole thing clear," said a graduate. "He gave us the example of Harish Kundu, your neighbouring __zamindar__. From his estates you cannot ferret out a single ounce of foreign salt. Why? Because he has always ruled with an iron hand. In the case of those who are slaves by nature, the lack of a strong master is the greatest of all calamities." "Why, sir!" chimed in an undergraduate, "have you not heard of the obstreperous tenant of Chakravarti, the other __zamindar__ close by--how the law was set on him till he was reduced to utter destitution? When at last he was left with nothing to eat, he started out to sell his wife's silver ornaments, but no one dared buy them. Then Chakravarti's manager offered him five rupees for the lot. They were worth over thirty, but he had to accept or starve. After taking over the bundle from him the manager coolly said that those five rupees would be credited towards his rent! We felt like having nothing more to do with Chakravarti or his manager after that, but Sandip Babu told us that if we threw over all the live people, we should have only dead bodies from the burning-grounds to carry on the work with! These live men, he pointed out, know what they want and how to get it--they are born rulers. Those who do not know how to desire for themselves, must live in accordance with, or die by virtue of, the desires of such as these. Sandip Babu contrasted them--Kundu and Chakravarti-- with you, Maharaja. You, he said, for all your good intentions, will never succeed in planting __Swadeshi__ within your territory." "It is my desire," I said, "to plant something greater than __Swadeshi__. I am not after dead logs but living trees--and these will take time to grow." "I am afraid, sir," sneered the history student, "that you will get neither log nor tree. Sandip Babu rightly teaches that in order to get, you must snatch. This is taking all of us some time to learn, because it runs counter to what we were taught at school. I have seen with my own eyes that when a rent-collector of Harish Kundu's found one of the tenants with nothing which could be sold up to pay his rent, he was made to sell his young wife! Buyers were not wanting, and the __zamindar's__ demand was satisfied. I tell you, sir, the sight of that man's distress prevented my getting sleep for nights together! But, feel it as I did, this much I realized, that the man who knows how to get the money he is out for, even by selling up his debtor's wife, is a better man than I am. I confess it is beyond me--I am a weakling, my eyes fill with tears. If anybody can save our country it is these Kundus and these Chakravartis and their officials!" I was shocked beyond words. "If what you say be true," I cried, "I clearly see that it must be the one endeavour of my life to save the country from these same Kundus and Chakravartis and officials. The slavery that has entered into our very bones is breaking out, at this opportunity, as ghastly tyranny. You have been so used to submit to domination through fear, you have come to believe that to make others submit is a kind of religion. My fight shall be against this weakness, this atrocious cruelty!" These things, which are so simple to ordinary folk, get so twisted in the minds of our B.A.'s and M.A.'s, the only purpose of whose historical quibbles seems to be to torture the truth! XI I am worried over Panchu's sham aunt. It will be difficult to disprove her, for though witnesses of a real event may be few or even wanting, innumerable proofs of a thing that has not happened can always be marshalled. The object of this move is, evidently, to get the sale of Panchu's holding to me set aside. Being unable to find any other way out of it, I was thinking of allowing Panchu to hold a permanent tenure in my estates and building him a cottage on it. But my master would not have it. I should not give in to these nefarious tactics so easily, he objected, and offered to attend to the matter himself. "You, sir!" I cried, considerably surprised. "Yes, I," he repeated. I could not see, at all clearly, what my master could do to counteract these legal machinations. That evening, at the time he usually came to me, he did not turn up. On my making inquiries, his servant said he had left home with a few things packed in a small trunk, and some bedding, saying he would be back in a few days. I thought he might have sallied forth to hunt for witnesses in Panchu's uncle's village. In that case, however, I was sure that his would be a hopeless quest ... During the day I forget myself in my work. As the late autumn afternoon wears on, the colours of the sky become turbid, and so do the feelings of my mind. There are many in this world whose minds dwell in brick-built houses--they can afford to ignore the thing called the outside. But my mind lives under the trees in the open, directly receives upon itself the messages borne by the free winds, and responds from the bottom of its heart to all the musical cadences of light and darkness. While the day is bright and the world in the pursuit of its numberless tasks crowds around, then it seems as if my life wants nothing else. But when the colours of the sky fade away and the blinds are drawn down over the windows of heaven, then my heart tells me that evening falls just for the purpose of shutting out the world, to mark the time when the darkness must be filled with the One. This is the end to which earth, sky, and waters conspire, and I cannot harden myself against accepting its meaning. So when the gloaming deepens over the world, like the gaze of the dark eyes of the beloved, then my whole being tells me that work alone cannot be the truth of life, that work is not the be-all and the end-all of man, for man is not simply a serf-- even though the serfdom be of the True and the Good. Alas, Nikhil, have you for ever parted company with that self of yours who used to be set free under the starlight, to plunge into the infinite depths of the night's darkness after the day's work was done? How terribly alone is he, who misses companionship in the midst of the multitudinousness of life. The other day, when the afternoon had reached the meeting-point of day and night, I had no work, nor the mind for work, nor was my master there to keep me company. With my empty, drifting heart longing to anchor on to something, I traced my steps towards the inner gardens. I was very fond of chrysanthemums and had rows of them, of all varieties, banked up in pots against one of the garden walls. When they were in flower, it looked like a wave of green breaking into iridescent foam. It was some time since I had been to this part of the grounds, and I was beguiled into a cheerful expectancy at the thought of meeting my chrysanthemums after our long separation. As I went in, the full moon had just peeped over the wall, her slanting rays leaving its foot in deep shadow. It seemed as if she had come a-tiptoe from behind, and clasped the darkness over the eyes, smiling mischievously. When I came near the bank of chrysanthemums, I saw a figure stretched on the grass in front. My heart gave a sudden thud. The figure also sat up with a start at my footsteps. What was to be done next? I was wondering whether it would do to beat a precipitate retreat. Bimala, also, was doubtless casting about for some way of escape. But it was as awkward to go as to stay! Before I could make up my mind, Bimala rose, pulled the end of her __sari__ over her head, and walked off towards the inner apartments. This brief pause had been enough to make real to me the cruel load of Bimala's misery. The plaint of my own life vanished from me in a moment. I called out: "Bimala!" She started and stayed her steps, but did not turn back. I went round and stood before her. Her face was in the shade, the moonlight fell on mine. Her eyes were downcast, her hands clenched. "Bimala," said I, "why should I seek to keep you fast in this closed cage of mine? Do I not know that thus you cannot but pine and droop?" She stood still, without raising her eyes or uttering a word. "I know," I continued, "that if I insist on keeping you shackled my whole life will be reduced to nothing but an iron chain. What pleasure can that be to me?" She was still silent. "So," I concluded, "I tell you, truly, Bimala, you are free. Whatever I may or may not have been to you, I refuse to be your fetters." With which I came away towards the outer apartments. No, no, it was not a generous impulse, nor indifference. I had simply come to understand that never would I be free until I could set free. To try to keep Bimala as a garland round my neck, would have meant keeping a weight hanging over my heart. Have I not been praying with all my strength, that if happiness may not be mine, let it go; if grief needs must be my lot, let it come; but let me not be kept in bondage. To clutch hold of that which is untrue as though it were true, is only to throttle oneself. May I be saved from such self-destruction. When I entered my room, I found my master waiting there. My agitated feelings were still heaving within me. "Freedom, sir," I began unceremoniously, without greeting or inquiry, "freedom is the biggest thing for man. Nothing can be compared to it-- nothing at all!" Surprised at my outburst, my master looked up at me in silence. "One can understand nothing from books," I went on. "We read in the scriptures that our desires are bonds, fettering us as well as others. But such words, by themselves, are so empty. It is only when we get to the point of letting the bird out of its cage that we can realize how free the bird has set us. Whatever we cage, shackles us with desire whose bonds are stronger than those of iron chains. I tell you, sir, this is just what the world has failed to understand. They all seek to reform something outside themselves. But reform is wanted only in one's own desires, nowhere else, nowhere else!" "We think," he said, "that we are our own masters when we get in our hands the object of our desire--but we are really our own masters only when we are able to cast out our desires from our minds." "When we put all this into words, sir," I went on, "it sounds like some bald-headed injunction, but when we realize even a little of it we find it to be __amrita__--which the gods have drunk and become immortal. We cannot see Beauty till we let go our hold of it. It was Buddha who conquered the world, not Alexander--this is untrue when stated in dry prose--oh when shall we be able to sing it? When shall all these most intimate truths of the universe overflow the pages of printed books and leap out in a sacred stream like the Ganges from the Gangotrie?" I was suddenly reminded of my master's absence during the last few days and of my ignorance as to its reason. I felt somewhat foolish as I asked him: "And where have you been all this while, sir?" "Staying with Panchu," he replied. "Indeed!" I exclaimed. "Have you been there all these days?" "Yes. I wanted to come to an understanding with the woman who calls herself his aunt. She could hardly be induced to believe that there could be such an odd character among the gentlefolk as the one who sought their hospitality. When she found I really meant to stay on, she began to feel rather ashamed of herself. 'Mother,' said I, 'you are not going to get rid of me, even if you abuse me! And so long as I stay, Panchu stays also. For you see, do you not, that I cannot stand by and see his motherless little ones sent out into the streets?' "She listened to my talks in this strain for a couple of days without saying yes or no. This morning I found her tying up her bundles. 'We are going back to Brindaban,' she said. 'Let us have our expenses for the journey.' I knew she was not going to Brindaban, and also that the cost of her journey would be substantial. So I have come to you." "The required cost shall be paid," I said. "The old woman is not a bad sort," my master went on musingly. "Panchu was not sure of her caste, and would not let her touch the water-jar, or anything at all of his. So they were continually bickering. When she found I had no objection to her touch, she looked after me devotedly. She is a splendid cook! "But all remnants of Panchu's respect for me vanished! To the last he had thought that I was at least a simple sort of person. But here was I, risking my caste without a qualm to win over the old woman for my purpose. Had I tried to steal a march on her by tutoring a witness for the trial, that would have been a different matter. Tactics must be met by tactics. But stratagem at the expense of orthodoxy is more than he can tolerate! "Anyhow, I must stay on a few days at Panchu's even after the woman leaves, for Harish Kundu may be up to any kind of devilry. He has been telling his satellites that he was content to have furnished Panchu with an aunt, but I have gone the length of supplying him with a father. He would like to see, now, how many fathers of his can save him!" "We may or may not be able to save him," I said; "but if we should perish in the attempt to save the country from the thousand-and-one snares--of religion, custom and selfishness-- which these people are busy spreading, we shall at least die happy." Bimala's Story XIV Who could have thought that so much would happen in this one life? I feel as if I have passed through a whole series of births, time has been flying so fast, I did not feel it move at all, till the shock came the other day. I knew there would be words between us when I made up my mind to ask my husband to banish foreign goods from our market. But it was my firm belief that I had no need to meet argument by argument, for there was magic in the very air about me. Had not so tremendous a man as Sandip fallen helplessly at my feet, like a wave of the mighty sea breaking on the shore? Had I called him? No, it was the summons of that magic spell of mine. And Amulya, poor dear boy, when he first came to me--how the current of his life flushed with colour, like the river at dawn! Truly have I realized how a goddess feels when she looks upon the radiant face of her devotee. With the confidence begotten of these proofs of my power, I was ready to meet my husband like a lightning-charged cloud. But what was it that happened? Never in all these nine years have I seen such a far-away, distraught look in his eyes--like the desert sky--with no merciful moisture of its own, no colour reflected, even, from what it looked upon. I should have been so relieved if his anger had flashed out! But I could find nothing in him which I could touch. I felt as unreal as a dream--a dream which would leave only the blackness of night when it was over. In the old days I used to be jealous of my sister-in-law for her beauty. Then I used to feel that Providence had given me no power of my own, that my whole strength lay in the love which my husband had bestowed on me. Now that I had drained to the dregs the cup of power and could not do without its intoxication, I suddenly found it dashed to pieces at my feet, leaving me nothing to live for. How feverishly I had sat to do my hair that day. Oh, shame, shame on me, the utter shame of it! My sister-in-law, when passing by, had exclaimed: "Aha, Chota Rani! Your hair seems ready to jump off. Don't let it carry your head with it." And then, the other day in the garden, how easy my husband found it to tell me that he set me free! But can freedom--empty freedom--be given and taken so easily as all that? It is like setting a fish free in the sky--for how can I move or live outside the atmosphere of loving care which has always sustained me? When I came to my room today, I saw only furniture--only the bedstead, only the looking-glass, only the clothes-rack--not the all-pervading heart which used to be there, over all. Instead of it there was freedom, only freedom, mere emptiness! A dried-up watercourse with all its rocks and pebbles laid bare. No feeling, only furniture! When I had arrived at a state of utter bewilderment, wondering whether anything true was left in my life, and whereabouts it could be, I happened to meet Sandip again. Then life struck against life, and the sparks flew in the same old way. Here was truth--impetuous truth--which rushed in and overflowed all bounds, truth which was a thousand times truer than the Bara Rani with her maid, Thako and her silly songs, and all the rest of them who talked and laughed and wandered about ... "Fifty thousand!" Sandip had demanded. "What is fifty thousand?" cried my intoxicated heart. "You shall have it!" How to get it, where to get it, were minor points not worth troubling over. Look at me. Had I not risen, all in one moment, from my nothingness to a height above everything? So shall all things come at my beck and call. I shall get it, get it, get it --there cannot be any doubt. Thus had I come away from Sandip the other day. Then as I looked about me, where was it--the tree of plenty? Oh, why does this outer world insult the heart so? And yet get it I must; how, I do not care; for sin there cannot be. Sin taints only the weak; I with my __Shakti__ am beyond its reach. Only a commoner can be a thief, the king conquers and takes his rightful spoil ... I must find out where the treasury is; who takes the money in; who guards it. I spent half the night standing in the outer verandah peering at the row of office buildings. But how to get that fifty thousand rupees out of the clutches of those iron bars? If by some __mantram__ I could have made all those guards fall dead in their places, I would not have hesitated--so pitiless did I feel! But while a whole gang of robbers seemed dancing a war-dance within the whirling brain of its Rani, the great house of the Rajas slept in peace. The gong of the watch sounded hour after hour, and the sky overhead placidly looked on. At last I sent for Amulya. "Money is wanted for the Cause," I told him. "Can you not get it out of the treasury?" "Why not?" said he, with his chest thrown out. Alas! had I not said "Why not?" to Sandip just in the same way? The poor lad's confidence could rouse no hopes in my mind. "How will you do it?" I asked. The wild plans he began to unfold would hardly bear repetition outside the pages of a penny dreadful. "No, Amulya," I said severely, "you must not be childish." "Very well, then," he said, "let me bribe those watchmen." "Where is the money to come from?" "I can loot the bazar," he burst out, without blenching. "Leave all that alone. I have my ornaments, they will serve. "But," said Amulya, "it strikes me that the cashier cannot be bribed. Never mind, there is another and simpler way." "What is that?" "Why need you hear it? It is quite simple." "Still, I should like to know." Amulya fumbled in the pocket of his tunic and pulled out, first a small edition of the __Gita__, which he placed on the table-- and then a little pistol, which he showed me, but said nothing further. Horror! It did not take him a moment to make up his mind to kill our good old cashier! [23] To look at his frank, open face one would not have thought him capable of hurting a fly, but how different were the words which came from his mouth. It was clear that the cashier's place in the world meant nothing real to him; it was a mere vacancy, lifeless, feelingless, with only stock phrases from the __Gita--Who kills the body kills naught! __ "Whatever do you mean, Amulya?" I exclaimed at length. "Don't you know that the dear old man has got a wife and children and that he is ..." "Where are we to find men who have no wives and children?" he interrupted. "Look here, Maharani, the thing we call pity is, at bottom, only pity for ourselves. We cannot bear to wound our own tender instincts, and so we do not strike at all--pity indeed! The height of cowardice!" To hear Sandip's phrases in the mouth of this mere boy staggered me. So delightfully, lovably immature was he--of that age when the good may still be believed in as good, of that age when one really lives and grows. The Mother in me awoke. For myself there was no longer good or bad--only death, beautiful alluring death. But to hear this stripling calmly talk of murdering an inoffensive old man as the right thing to do, made me shudder all over. The more clearly I saw that there was no sin in his heart, the more horrible appeared to me the sin of his words. I seemed to see the sin of the parents visited on the innocent child. The sight of his great big eyes shining with faith and enthusiasm touched me to the quick. He was going, in his fascination, straight to the jaws of the python, from which, once in, there was no return. How was he to be saved? Why does not my country become, for once, a real Mother--clasp him to her bosom and cry out: "Oh, my child, my child, what profits it that you should save me, if so it be that I should fail to save you?" I know, I know, that all Power on earth waxes great under compact with Satan. But the Mother is there, alone though she be, to contemn and stand against this devil's progress. The Mother cares not for mere success, however great--she wants to give life, to save life. My very soul, today, stretches out its hands in yearning to save this child. A while ago I suggested robbery to him. Whatever I may now say against it will be put down to a woman's weakness. They only love our weakness when it drags the world in its toils! "You need do nothing at all, Amulya, I will see to the money," I told him finally. When he had almost reached the door, I called him back. "Amulya," said I, "I am your elder sister. Today is not the Brothers' Day [24] according to the calendar, but all the days in the year are really Brothers' Days. My blessing be with you: may God keep you always." These unexpected words from my lips took Amulya by surprise. He stood stock-still for a time. Then, coming to himself, he prostrated himself at my feet in acceptance of the relationship and did me reverence. When he rose his eyes were full of tears ... O little brother mine! I am fast going to my death--let me take all your sin away with me. May no taint from me ever tarnish your innocence! I said to him: "Let your offering of reverence be that pistol!" "What do you want with it, sister?" "I will practise death." "Right, sister. Our women, also, must know how to die, to deal death!" with which Amulya handed me the pistol. The radiance of his youthful countenance seemed to tinge my life with the touch of a new dawn. I put away the pistol within my clothes. May this reverence-offering be the last resource in my extremity ... The door to the mother's chamber in my woman's heart once opened, I thought it would always remain open. But this pathway to the supreme good was closed when the mistress took the place of the mother and locked it again. The very next day I saw Sandip; and madness, naked and rampant, danced upon my heart. What was this? Was this, then, my truer self? Never! I had never before known this shameless, this cruel one within me. The snake-charmer had come, pretending to draw this snake from within the fold of my garment--but it was never there, it was his all the time. Some demon has gained possession of me, and what I am doing today is the play of his activity--it has nothing to do with me. This demon, in the guise of a god, had come with his ruddy torch to call me that day, saying: "I am your Country. I am your Sandip. I am more to you than anything else of yours. __Bande Mataram__!" And with folded hands I had responded: "You are my religion. You are my heaven. Whatever else is mine shall be swept away before my love for you. __Bande Mataram__!" Five thousand is it? Five thousand it shall be! You want it tomorrow? Tomorrow you shall have it! In this desperate orgy, that gift of five thousand shall be as the foam of wine--and then for the riotous revel! The immovable world shall sway under our feet, fire shall flash from our eyes, a storm shall roar in our ears, what is or is not in front shall become equally dim. And then with tottering footsteps we shall plunge to our death--in a moment all fire will be extinguished, the ashes will be scattered, and nothing will remain behind. ------ 23. The cashier is the official who is most in touch with the ladies of a __zamindar's__ household, directly taking their requisitions for household stores and doing their shopping for them, and so he becomes more a member of the family than the others. [Trans.]. 24. The daughter of the house occupies a place of specially tender affection in a Bengali household (perhaps in Hindu households all over India) because, by dictate of custom, she must be given away in marriage so early. She thus takes corresponding memories with her to her husband's home, where she has to begin as a stranger before she can get into her place. The resulting feeling, of the mistress of her new home for the one she has left, has taken ceremonial form as the Brothers' Day, on which the brothers are invited to the married sisters' houses. Where the sister is the elder, she offers her blessing and receives the brother's reverence, and vice versa. Presents, called the offerings of reverence (or blessing), are exchanged. [Trans.]. Chapter Nine Bimala's Story XV FOR a time I was utterly at a loss to think of any way of getting that money. Then, the other day, in the light of intense excitement, suddenly the whole picture stood out clear before me. Every year my husband makes a reverence-offering of six thousand rupees to my sister-in-law at the time of the Durga Puja. Every year it is deposited in her account at the bank in Calcutta. This year the offering was made as usual, but it has not yet been sent to the bank, being kept meanwhile in an iron safe, in a corner of the little dressing-room attached to our bedroom. Every year my husband takes the money to the bank himself. This year he has not yet had an opportunity of going to town. How could I fail to see the hand of Providence in this? The money has been held up because the country wants it--who could have the power to take it away from her to the bank? And how can I have the power to refuse to take the money? The goddess revelling in destruction holds out her blood-cup crying: "Give me drink. I am thirsty." I will give her my own heart's blood with that five thousand rupees. Mother, the loser of that money will scarcely feel the loss, but me you will utterly ruin! Many a time, in the old days, have I inwardly called the Senior Rani a thief, for I charged her with wheedling money out of my trusting husband. After her husband's death, she often used to make away with things belonging to the estate for her own use. This I used to point out to my husband, but he remained silent. I would get angry and say: "If you feel generous, make gifts by all means, but why allow yourself to be robbed?" Providence must have smiled, then, at these complaints of mine, for tonight I am on the way to rob my husband's safe of my sister-in-law's money. My husband's custom was to let his keys remain in his pockets when he took off his clothes for the night, leaving them in the dressing-room. I picked out the key of the safe and opened it. The slight sound it made seemed to wake the whole world! A sudden chill turned my hands and feet icy cold, and I shivered all over. There was a drawer inside the safe. On opening this I found the money, not in currency notes, but in gold rolled up in paper. I had no time to count out what I wanted. There were twenty rolls, all of which I took and tied up in a corner of my __sari__. What a weight it was. The burden of the theft crushed my heart to the dust. Perhaps notes would have made it seem less like thieving, but this was all gold. After I had stolen into my room like a thief, it felt like my own room no longer. All the most precious rights which I had over it vanished at the touch of my theft. I began to mutter to myself, as though telling __mantrams: Bande Mataram, Bande Mataram__, my Country, my golden Country, all this gold is for you, for none else! But in the night the mind is weak. I came back into the bedroom where my husband was asleep, closing my eyes as I passed through, and went off to the open terrace beyond, on which I lay prone, clasping to my breast the end of the __sari__ tied over the gold. And each one of the rolls gave me a shock of pain. The silent night stood there with forefinger upraised. I could not think of my house as separate from my country: I had robbed my house, I had robbed my country. For this sin my house had ceased to be mine, my country also was estranged from me. Had I died begging for my country, even unsuccessfully, that would have been worship, acceptable to the gods. But theft is never worship--how then can I offer this gold? Ah me! I am doomed to death myself, must I desecrate my country with my impious touch? The way to put the money back is closed to me. I have not the strength to return to the room, take again that key, open once more that safe--I should swoon on the threshold of my husband's door. The only road left now is the road in front. Neither have I the strength deliberately to sit down and count the coins. Let them remain behind their coverings: I cannot calculate. There was no mist in the winter sky. The stars were shining brightly. If, thought I to myself, as I lay out there, I had to steal these stars one by one, like golden coins, for my country-- these stars so carefully stored up in the bosom of the darkness-- then the sky would be blinded, the night widowed for ever, and my theft would rob the whole world. But was not also this very thing I had done a robbing of the whole world--not only of money, but of trust, of righteousness? I spent the night lying on the terrace. When at last it was morning, and I was sure that my husband had risen and left the room, then only with my shawl pulled over my head, could I retrace my steps towards the bedroom. My sister-in-law was about, with her brass pot, watering her plants. When she saw me passing in the distance she cried: "Have you heard the news, Chota Rani?" I stopped in silence, all in a tremor. It seemed to me that the rolls of sovereigns were bulging through the shawl. I feared they would burst and scatter in a ringing shower, exposing to all the servants of the house the thief who had made herself destitute by robbing her own wealth. "Your band of robbers," she went on, "have sent an anonymous message threatening to loot the treasury." I remained as silent as a thief. "I was advising Brother Nikhil to seek your protection," she continued banteringly. "Call off your minions, Robber Queen! We will offer sacrifices to your __Bande Mataram__ if you will but save us. What doings there are these days!--but for the Lord's sake, spare our house at least from burglary." I hastened into my room without reply. I had put my foot on quicksand, and could not now withdraw it. Struggling would only send me down deeper. If only the time would arrive when I could hand over the money to Sandip! I could bear it no longer, its weight was breaking through my very ribs. It was still early when I got word that Sandip was awaiting me. Today I had no thought of adornment. Wrapped as I was in my shawl, I went off to the outer apartments. As I entered the sitting-room I saw Sandip and Amulya there, together. All my dignity, all my honour, seemed to run tingling through my body from head to foot and vanish into the ground. I should have to lay bare a woman's uttermost shame in sight of this boy! Could they have been discussing my deed in their meeting place? Had any vestige of a veil of decency been left for me? We women shall never understand men. When they are bent on making a road for some achievement, they think nothing of breaking the heart of the world into pieces to pave it for the progress of their chariot. When they are mad with the intoxication of creating, they rejoice in destroying the creation of the Creator. This heart-breaking shame of mine will not attract even a glance from their eyes. They have no feeling for life itself--all their eagerness is for their object. What am I to them but a meadow flower in the path of a torrent in flood? What good will this extinction of me be to Sandip? Only five thousand rupees? Was not I good for something more than only five thousand rupees? Yes, indeed! Did I not learn that from Sandip himself, and was I not able in the light of this knowledge to despise all else in my world? I was the giver of light, of life, of __Shakti__, of immortality--in that belief, in that joy, I had burst all my bounds and come into the open. Had anyone then fulfilled for me that joy, I should have lived in my death. I should have lost nothing in the loss of my all. Do they want to tell me now that all this was false? The psalm of my praise which was sung so devotedly, did it bring me down from my heaven, not to make heaven of earth, but only to level heaven itself with the dust? XVI "The money, Queen?" said Sandip with his keen glance full on my face. Amulya also fixed his gaze on me. Though not my own mother's child, yet the dear lad is brother to me; for mother is mother all the world over. With his guileless face, his gentle eyes, his innocent youth, he looked at me. And I, a woman--of his mother's sex--how could I hand him poison, just because he asked for it? "The money, Queen!" Sandip's insolent demand rang in my ears. For very shame and vexation I felt I wanted to fling that gold at Sandip's head. I could hardly undo the knot of my __sari__, my fingers trembled so. At last the paper rolls dropped on the table. Sandip's face grew black ... He must have thought that the rolls were of silver ... What contempt was in his looks. What utter disgust at incapacity. It was almost as if he could have struck me! He must have suspected that I had come to parley with him, to offer to compound his claim for five thousand rupees with a few hundreds. There was a moment when I thought he would snatch up the rolls and throw them out of the window, declaring that he was no beggar, but a king claiming tribute. "Is that all?" asked Amulya with such pity welling up in his voice that I wanted to sob out aloud. I kept my heart tightly pressed down, and merely nodded my head. Sandip was speechless. He neither touched the rolls, nor uttered a sound. My humiliation went straight to the boy's heart. With a sudden, feigned enthusiasm he exclaimed: "It's plenty. It will do splendidly. You have saved us." With which he tore open the covering of one of the rolls. The sovereigns shone out. And in a moment the black covering seemed to be lifted from Sandip's countenance also. His delight beamed forth from his features. Unable to control his sudden revulsion of feeling, he sprang up from his seat towards me. What he intended I know not. I flashed a lightning glance towards Amulya--the colour had left the boy's face as at the stroke of a whip. Then with all my strength I thrust Sandip from me. As he reeled back his head struck the edge of the marble table and he dropped on the floor. There he lay awhile, motionless. Exhausted with my effort, I sank back on my seat. Amulya's face lightened with a joyful radiance. He did not even turn towards Sandip, but came straight up, took the dust of my feet, and then remained there, sitting on the floor in front of me. O my little brother, my child! This reverence of yours is the last touch of heaven left in my empty world! I could contain myself no longer, and my tears flowed fast. I covered my eyes with the end of my __sari__, which I pressed to my face with both my hands, and sobbed and sobbed. And every time that I felt on my feet his tender touch trying to comfort me my tears broke out afresh. After a little, when I had recovered myself and taken my hands from my face, I saw Sandip back at the table, gathering up the sovereigns in his handkerchief, as if nothing had happened. Amulya rose to his seat, from his place near my feet, his wet eyes shining. Sandip coolly looked up at my face as he remarked: "It is six thousand." "What do we want with so much, Sandip Babu?" cried Amulya. "Three thousand five hundred is all we need for our work." "Our wants are not for this one place only," Sandip replied. "We shall want all we can get." "That may be," said Amulya. "But in future I undertake to get you all you want. Out of this, Sandip Babu, please return the extra two thousand five hundred to the Maharani." Sandip glanced enquiringly at me. "No, no," I exclaimed. "I shall never touch that money again. Do with it as you will." "Can man ever give as woman can?" said Sandip, looking towards Amulya. "They are goddesses!" agreed Amulya with enthusiasm. "We men can at best give of our power," continued Sandip. "But women give themselves. Out of their own life they give birth, out of their own life they give sustenance. Such gifts are the only true gifts." Then turning to me, "Queen!" said he, "if what you have given us had been only money I would not have touched it. But you have given that which is more to you than life itself!" There must be two different persons inside men. One of these in me can understand that Sandip is trying to delude me; the other is content to be deluded. Sandip has power, but no strength of righteousness. The weapon of his which rouses up life smites it again to death. He has the unfailing quiver of the gods, but the shafts in them are of the demons. Sandip's handkerchief was not large enough to hold all the coins. "Queen," he asked, "can you give me another?" When I gave him mine, he reverently touched his forehead with it, and then suddenly kneeling on the floor he made me an obeisance. "Goddess!" he said, "it was to offer my reverence that I had approached you, but you repulsed me, and rolled me in the dust. Be it so, I accept your repulse as your boon to me, I raise it to my head in salutation!" with which he pointed to the place where he had been hurt. Had I then misunderstood him? Could it be that his outstretched hands had really been directed towards my feet? Yet, surely, even Amulya had seen the passion that flamed out of his eyes, his face. But Sandip is such an adept in setting music to his chant of praise that I cannot argue; I lose my power of seeing truth; my sight is clouded over like an opium-eater's eyes. And so, after all, he gave me back twice as much in return for the blow I had dealt him--the wound on his head ended by making me bleed at heart. When I had received Sandip's obeisance my theft seemed to gain a dignity, and the gold glittering on the table to smile away all fear of disgrace, all stings of conscience. Like me Amulya also was won back. His devotion to Sandip, which had suffered a momentary check, blazed up anew. The flower-vase of his mind filled once more with offerings for the worship of Sandip and me. His simple faith shone out of his eyes with the pure light of the morning star at dawn. After I had offered worship and received worship my sin became radiant. And as Amulya looked on my face he raised his folded hands in salutation and cried __Bande Mataram__! I cannot expect to have this adoration surrounding me for ever; and yet this has come to be the only means of keeping alive my self- respect. I can no longer enter my bedroom. The bedstead seems to thrust out a forbidding hand, the iron safe frowns at me. I want to get away from this continual insult to myself which is rankling within me. I want to keep running to Sandip to hear him sing my praises. There is just this one little altar of worship which has kept its head above the all-pervading depths of my dishonour, and so I want to cleave to it night and day; for on whichever side I step away from it, there is only emptiness. Praise, praise, I want unceasing praise. I cannot live if my wine-cup be left empty for a single moment. So, as the very price of my life, I want Sandip of all the world, today. XVII When my husband nowadays comes in for his meals I feel I cannot sit before him; and yet it is such a shame not to be near him that I feel I cannot do that either. So I seat myself where we cannot look at each other's face. That was how I was sitting the other day when the Bara Rani came and joined us. "It is all very well for you, brother," said she, "to laugh away these threatening letters. But they do frighten me so. Have you sent off that money you gave me to the Calcutta bank?" "No, I have not yet had the time to get it away," my husband replied. "You are so careless, brother dear, you had better look out..." "But it is in the iron safe right inside the inner dressing- room," said my husband with a reassuring smile. "What if they get in there? You can never tell!" "If they go so far, they might as well carry you off too!" "Don't you fear, no one will come for poor me. The real attraction is in your room! But joking apart, don't run the risk of keeping money in the room like that." "They will be taking along the Government revenue to Calcutta in a few days now; I will send this money to the bank under the same escort." "Very well. But see you don't forget all about it, you are so absent-minded." "Even if that money gets lost, while in my room, the loss cannot be yours, Sister Rani." "Now, now, brother, you will make me very angry if you talk in that way. Was I making any difference between yours and mine? What if your money is lost, does not that hurt me? If Providence has thought fit to take away my all, it has not left me insensible to the value of the most devoted brother known since the days of Lakshman." [25] "Well, Junior Rani, are you turned into a wooden doll? You have not spoken a word yet. Do you know, brother, our Junior Rani thinks I try to flatter you. If things came to that pass I should not hesitate to do so, but I know my dear old brother does not need it!" Thus the Senior Rani chattered on, not forgetting now and then to draw her brother's attention to this or that special delicacy amongst the dishes that were being served. My head was all the time in a whirl. The crisis was fast coming. Something must be done about replacing that money. And as I kept asking myself what could be done, and how it was to be done, the unceasing patter of my sister-in-law's words seemed more and more intolerable. What made it all the worse was, that nothing could escape my sister-in-law's keen eyes. Every now and then she was casting side glances towards me. What she could read in my face I do not know, but to me it seemed that everything was written there only too plainly. Then I did an infinitely rash thing. Affecting an easy, amused laugh I said: "All the Senior Rani's suspicions, I see, are reserved for me--her fears of thieves and robbers are only a feint." The Senior Rani smiled mischievously. "You are right, sister mine. A woman's theft is the most fatal of all thefts. But how can you elude my watchfulness? Am I a man, that you should hoodwink me?" "If you fear me so," I retorted, "let me keep in your hands all I have, as security. If I cause you loss, you can then repay yourself." "Just listen to her, our simple little Junior Rani!" she laughed back, turning to my husband. "Does she not know that there are losses which no security can make good, either in this world or in the next?" My husband did not join in our exchange of words. When he had finished, he went off to the outer apartments, for nowadays he does not take his mid-day rest in our room. All my more valuable jewels were in deposit in the treasury in charge of the cashier. Still what I kept with me must have been worth thirty or forty thousand. I took my jewel-box to the Bara Rani's room and opened it out before her, saying: "I leave these with you, sister. They will keep you quite safe from all worry." The Bara Rani made a gesture of mock despair. "You positively astound me, Chota Rani!" she said. "Do you really suppose I spend sleepless nights for fear of being robbed by you?" "What harm if you did have a wholesome fear of me? Does anybody know anybody else in this world?" "You want to teach me a lesson by trusting me? No, no! I am bothered enough to know what to do with my own jewels, without keeping watch over yours. Take them away, there's a dear, so many prying servants are about." I went straight from my sister-in-law's room to the sitting-room outside, and sent for Amulya. With him Sandip came along too. I was in a great hurry, and said to Sandip: "If you don't mind, I want to have a word or two with Amulya. Would you..." Sandip smiled a wry smile. "So Amulya and I are separate in your eyes? If you have set about to wean him from me, I must confess I have no power to retain him." I made no reply, but stood waiting. "Be it so," Sandip went on. "Finish your special talk with Amulya. But then you must give me a special talk all to myself too, or it will mean a defeat for me. I can stand everything, but not defeat. My share must always be the lion's share. This has been my constant quarrel with Providence. I will defeat the Dispenser of my fate, but not take defeat at his hands." With a crushing look at Amulya, Sandip walked out of the room. "Amulya, my own little brother, you must do one thing for me," I said. "I will stake my life for whatever duty you may lay on me, sister." I brought out my jewel-box from the folds of my shawl and placed it before him. "Sell or pawn these," I said, "and get me six thousand rupees as fast as ever you can." "No, no, Sister Rani," said Amulya, touched to the quick. "Let these jewels be. I will get you six thousand all the same." "Oh, don't be silly," I said impatiently. "There is no time for any nonsense. Take this box. Get away to Calcutta by the night train. And bring me the money by the day after tomorrow positively." Amulya took a diamond necklace out of the box, held it up to the light and put it back gloomily. "I know," I told him, "that you will never get the proper price for these diamonds, so I am giving you jewels worth about thirty thousand. I don't care if they all go, but I must have that six thousand without fail." "Do you know, Sister Rani," said Amulya, "I have had a quarrel with Sandip Babu over that six thousand rupees he took from you? I cannot tell you how ashamed I felt. But Sandip Babu would have it that we must give up even our shame for the country. That may be so. But this is somehow different. I do not fear to die for the country, to kill for the country--that much __Shakti__ has been given me. But I cannot forget the shame of having taken money from you. There Sandip Babu is ahead of me. He has no regrets or compunctions. He says we must get rid of the idea that the money belongs to the one in whose box it happens to be-- if we cannot, where is the magic of __Bande Mataram__?" Amulya gathered enthusiasm as he talked on. He always warms up when he has me for a listener. "The Gita tells us," he continued, "that no one can kill the soul. Killing is a mere word. So also is the taking away of money. Whose is the money? No one has created it. No one can take it away with him when he departs this life, for it is no part of his soul. Today it is mine, tomorrow my son's, the next day his creditor's. Since, in fact, money belongs to no one, why should any blame attach to our patriots if, instead of leaving it for some worthless son, they take it for their own use?" When I hear Sandip's words uttered by this boy, I tremble all over. Let those who are snake-charmers play with snakes; if harm comes to them, they are prepared for it. But these boys are so innocent, all the world is ready with its blessing to protect them. They play with a snake not knowing its nature, and when we see them smilingly, trustfully, putting their hands within reach of its fangs, then we understand how terribly dangerous the snake is. Sandip is right when he suspects that though I, for myself, may be ready to die at his hands, this boy I shall wean from him and save. "So the money is wanted for the use of your patriots?" I questioned with a smile. "Of course it is!" said Amulya proudly. "Are they not our kings? Poverty takes away from their regal power. Do you know, we always insist on Sandip Babu travelling First Class? He never shirks kingly honours--he accepts them not for himself, but for the glory of us all. The greatest weapon of those who rule the world, Sandip Babu has told us, is the hypnotism of their display. To take the vow of poverty would be for them not merely a penance--it would mean suicide." At this point Sandip noiselessly entered the room. I threw my shawl over the jewel-case with a rapid movement. "The special-talk business not yet over?" he asked with a sneer in his tone. "Yes, we've quite finished," said Amulya apologetically. "It was nothing much." "No, Amulya," I said, "we have not quite finished." "So exit Sandip for the second time, I suppose?" said Sandip. "If you please." "And as to Sandip's re-entry." "Not today. I have no time." "I see!" said Sandip as his eyes flashed. "No time to waste, only for special talks!" Jealousy! Where the strong man shows weakness, there the weaker sex cannot help beating her drums of victory. So I repeated firmly: "I really have no time." Sandip went away looking black. Amulya was greatly perturbed. "Sister Rani," he pleaded, "Sandip Babu is annoyed." "He has neither cause nor right to be annoyed," I said with some vehemence. "Let me caution you about one thing, Amulya. Say nothing to Sandip Babu about the sale of my jewels--on your life." "No, I will not." "Then you had better not delay any more. You must get away by tonight's train." Amulya and I left the room together. As we came out on the verandah Sandip was standing there. I could see he was waiting to waylay Amulya. To prevent that I had to engage him. "What is it you wanted to tell me, Sandip Babu?" I asked. "I have nothing special to say--mere small talk. And since you have not the time . . " "I can give you just a little." By this time Amulya had left. As we entered the room Sandip asked: "What was that box Amulya carried away?" The box had not escaped his eyes. I remained firm. "If I could have told you, it would have been made over to him in your presence!" "So you think Amulya will not tell me?" "No, he will not." Sandip could not conceal his anger any longer. "You think you will gain the mastery over me?" he blazed out. "That shall never be. Amulya, there, would die a happy death if I deigned to trample him under foot. I will never, so long as I live, allow you to bring him to your feet!" Oh, the weak! the weak! At last Sandip has realized that he is weak before me! That is why there is this sudden outburst of anger. He has understood that he cannot meet the power that I wield, with mere strength. With a glance I can crumble his strongest fortifications. So he must needs resort to bluster. I simply smiled in contemptuous silence. At last have I come to a level above him. I must never lose this vantage ground; never descend lower again. Amidst all my degradation this bit of dignity must remain to me! "I know," said Sandip, after a pause, "it was your jewel-case." "You may guess as you please," said I, "but you will get nothing out of me. "So you trust Amulya more than you trust me? Do you know that the boy is the shadow of my shadow, the echo of my echo--that he is nothing if I am not at his side?" "Where he is not your echo, he is himself, Amulya. And that is where I trust him more than I can trust your echo!" "You must not forget that you are under a promise to render up all your ornaments to me for the worship of the Divine Mother. In fact your offering has already been made." "Whatever ornaments the gods leave to me will be offered up to the gods. But how can I offer those which have been stolen away from me?" "Look here, it is no use your trying to give me the slip in that fashion. Now is the time for grim work. Let that work be finished, then you can make a display of your woman's wiles to your heart's content--and I will help you in your game." The moment I had stolen my husband's money and paid it to Sandip, the music that was in our relations stopped. Not only did I destroy all my own value by making myself cheap, but Sandip's powers, too, lost scope for their full play. You cannot employ your marksmanship against a thing which is right in your grasp. So Sandip has lost his aspect of the hero; a tone of low quarrelsomeness has come into his words. Sandip kept his brilliant eyes fixed full on my face till they seemed to blaze with all the thirst of the mid-day sky. Once or twice he fidgeted with his feet, as though to leave his seat, as if to spring right on me. My whole body seemed to swim, my veins throbbed, the hot blood surged up to my ears; I felt that if I remained there, I should never get up at all. With a supreme effort I tore myself off the chair, and hastened towards the door. From Sandip's dry throat there came a muffled cry: "Whither would you flee, Queen?" The next moment he left his seat with a bound to seize hold of me. At the sound of footsteps outside the door, however, he rapidly retreated and fell back into his chair. I checked my steps near the bookshelf, where I stood staring at the names of the books. As my husband entered the room, Sandip exclaimed: "I say, Nikhil, don't you keep Browning among your books here? I was just telling Queen Bee of our college club. Do you remember that contest of ours over the translation of those lines from Browning? You don't? /* "She should never have looked at me, If she meant I should not love her, There are plenty ... men you call such, I suppose ... she may discover All her soul to, if she pleases, And yet leave much as she found them: But I'm not so, and she knew it When she fixed me, glancing round them. */ "I managed to get together the words to render it into Bengali, somehow, but the result was hardly likely to be a 'joy forever' to the people of Bengal. I really did think at one time that I was on the verge of becoming a poet, but Providence was kind enough to save me from that disaster. Do you remember old Dakshina? If he had not become a Salt Inspector, he would have been a poet. I remember his rendering to this day ... "No, Queen Bee, it is no use rummaging those bookshelves. Nikhil has ceased to read poetry since his marriage--perhaps he has no further need for it. But I suppose 'the fever fit of poesy', as the Sanskrit has it, is about to attack me again." "I have come to give you a warning, Sandip," said my husband. "About the fever fit of poesy?" My husband took no notice of this attempt at humour. "For some time," he continued, "Mahomedan preachers have been about stirring up the local Mussulmans. They are all wild with you, and may attack you any moment." "Are you come to advise flight?" "I have come to give you information, not to offer advice." "Had these estates been mine, such a warning would have been necessary for the preachers, not for me. If, instead of trying to frighten me, you give them a taste of your intimidation, that would be worthier both of you and me. Do you know that your weakness is weakening your neighbouring __zamindars__ also?" "I did not offer you my advice, Sandip. I wish you, too, would refrain from giving me yours. Besides, it is useless. And there is another thing I want to tell you. You and your followers have been secretly worrying and oppressing my tenantry. I cannot allow that any longer. So I must ask you to leave my territory." "For fear of the Mussulmans, or is there any other fear you have to threaten me with?" "There are fears the want of which is cowardice. In the name of those fears, I tell you, Sandip, you must go. In five days I shall be starting for Calcutta. I want you to accompany me. You may of course stay in my house there--to that there is no objection." "All right, I have still five day's time then. Meanwhile, Queen Bee, let me hum to you my song of parting from your honey-hive. Ah! you poet of modern Bengal! Throw open your doors and let me plunder your words. The theft is really yours, for it is my song which you have made your own--let the name be yours by all means, but the song is mine." With this Sandip struck up in a deep, husky voice, which threatened to be out of tune, a song in the Bhairavi mode: /* "In the springtime of your kingdom, my Queen, Meetings and partings chase each other in their endless hide and seek, And flowers blossom in the wake of those that droop and die in the shade. In the springtime of your kingdom, my Queen, My meeting with you had its own songs, But has not also my leave-taking any gift to offer you? That gift is my secret hope, which I keep hidden in the shadows of your flower garden, That the rains of July may sweetly temper your fiery June." */ His boldness was immense--boldness which had no veil, but was naked as fire. One finds no time to stop it: it is like trying to resist a thunderbolt: the lightning flashes: it laughs at all resistance. I left the room. As I was passing along the verandah towards the inner apartments, Amulya suddenly made his appearance and came and stood before me. "Fear nothing, Sister Rani," he said. "I am off tonight and shall not return unsuccessful." "Amulya," said I, looking straight into his earnest, youthful face, "I fear nothing for myself, but may I never cease to fear for you." Amulya turned to go, but before he was out of sight I called him back and asked: "Have you a mother, Amulya?" "I have." "A sister?" "No, I am the only child of my mother. My father died when I was quite little." "Then go back to your mother, Amulya." "But, Sister Rani, I have now both mother and sister." "Then, Amulya, before you leave tonight, come and have your dinner here." "There won't be time for that. Let me take some food for the journey, consecrated with your touch." "What do you specially like, Amulya?" "If I had been with my mother I should have had lots of Poush cakes. Make some for me with your own hands, Sister Rani!" ------ 25. Of the __Ramayana__. The story of his devotion to his elder brother Rama and his brother's wife Sita, has become a byword. Chapter Ten Nikhil's Story XII I LEARNT from my master that Sandip had joined forces with Harish Kundu, and there was to be a grand celebration of the worship of the demon-destroying Goddess. Harish Kundu was extorting the expenses from his tenantry. Pandits Kaviratna and Vidyavagish had been commissioned to compose a hymn with a double meaning. My master has just had a passage at arms with Sandip over this. "Evolution is at work amongst the gods as well," says Sandip. "The grandson has to remodel the gods created by the grandfather to suit his own taste, or else he is left an atheist. It is my mission to modernize the ancient deities. I am born the saviour of the gods, to emancipate them from the thraldom of the past." I have seen from our boyhood what a juggler with ideas is Sandip. He has no interest in discovering truth, but to make a quizzical display of it rejoices his heart. Had he been born in the wilds of Africa he would have spent a glorious time inventing argument after argument to prove that cannibalism is the best means of promoting true communion between man and man. But those who deal in delusion end by deluding themselves, and I fully believe that, each time Sandip creates a new fallacy, he persuades himself that he has found the truth, however contradictory his creations may be to one another. However, I shall not give a helping hand to establish a liquor distillery in my country. The young men, who are ready to offer their services for their country's cause, must not fall into this habit of getting intoxicated. The people who want to exact work by drugging methods set more value on the excitement than on the minds they intoxicate. I had to tell Sandip, in Bimala's presence, that he must go. Perhaps both will impute to me the wrong motive. But I must free myself also from all fear of being misunderstood. Let even Bimala misunderstand me ... A number of Mahomedan preachers are being sent over from Dacca. The Mussulmans in my territory had come to have almost as much of an aversion to the killing of cows as the Hindus. But now cases of cow-killing are cropping up here and there. I had the news first from some of my Mussulman tenants with expressions of their disapproval. Here was a situation which I could see would be difficult to meet. At the bottom was a pretence of fanaticism, which would cease to be a pretence if obstructed. That is just where the ingenuity of the move came in! I sent for some of my principal Hindu tenants and tried to get them to see the matter in its proper light. "We can be staunch in our own convictions," I said, "but we have no control over those of others. For all that many of us are Vaishnavas, those of us who are Shaktas go on with their animal sacrifices just the same. That cannot be helped. We must, in the same way, let the Mussulmans do as they think best. So please refrain from all disturbance." "Maharaja," they replied, "these outrages have been unknown for so long." "That was so," I said, "because such was their spontaneous desire. Let us behave in such a way that the same may become true, over again. But a breach of the peace is not the way to bring this about." "No, Maharaja," they insisted, "those good old days are gone. This will never stop unless you put it down with a strong hand." "Oppression," I replied, "will not only not prevent cow-killing, it may lead to the killing of men as well." One of them had had an English education. He had learnt to repeat the phrases of the day. "It is not only a question of orthodoxy," he argued. "Our country is mainly agricultural, and cows are ..." "Buffaloes in this country," I interrupted, "likewise give milk and are used for ploughing. And therefore, so long as we dance frantic dances on our temple pavements, smeared with their blood, their severed heads carried on our shoulders, religion will only laugh at us if we quarrel with Mussulmans in her name, and nothing but the quarrel itself will remain true. If the cow alone is to be held sacred from slaughter, and not the buffalo, then that is bigotry, not religion." "But are you not aware, sir, of what is behind all this?" pursued the English-knowing tenant. "This has only become possible because the Mussulman is assured of safety, even if he breaks the law. Have you not heard of the Pachur case?" "Why is it possible," I asked, "to use the Mussulmans thus, as tools against us? Is it not because we have fashioned them into such with our own intolerance? That is how Providence punishes us. Our accumulated sins are being visited on our own heads." "Oh, well, if that be so, let them be visited on us. But we shall have our revenge. We have undermined what was the greatest strength of the authorities, their devotion to their own laws. Once they were truly kings, dispensing justice; now they themselves will become law-breakers, and so no better than robbers. This may not go down to history, but we shall carry it in our hearts for all time ..." The evil reports about me which are spreading from paper to paper are making me notorious. News comes that my effigy has been burnt at the river-side burning-ground of the Chakravartis, with due ceremony and enthusiasm; and other insults are in contemplation. The trouble was that they had come to ask me to take shares in a Cotton Mill they wanted to start. I had to tell them that I did not so much mind the loss of my own money, but I would not be a party to causing a loss to so many poor shareholders. "Are we to understand, Maharaja," said my visitors, "that the prosperity of the country does not interest you?" "Industry may lead to the country's prosperity," I explained, "but a mere desire for its prosperity will not make for success in industry. Even when our heads were cool, our industries did not flourish. Why should we suppose that they will do so just because we have become frantic?" "Why not say plainly that you will not risk your money?" "I will put in my money when I see that it is industry which prompts you. But, because you have lighted a fire, it does not follow that you have the food to cook over it." XIII What is this? Our Chakua sub-treasury looted! A remittance of seven thousand five hundred rupees was due from there to headquarters. The local cashier had changed the cash at the Government Treasury into small currency notes for convenience in carrying, and had kept them ready in bundles. In the middle of the night an armed band had raided the room, and wounded Kasim, the man on guard. The curious part of it was that they had taken only six thousand rupees and left the rest scattered on the floor, though it would have been as easy to carry that away also. Anyhow, the raid of the dacoits was over; now the police raid would begin. Peace was out of the question. When I went inside, I found the news had travelled before me. "What a terrible thing, brother," exclaimed the Bara Rani. "Whatever shall we do?" I made light of the matter to reassure her. "We still have something left," I said with a smile. "We shall manage to get along somehow." "Don't joke about it, brother dear. Why are they all so angry with you? Can't you humour them? Why put everybody out?" "I cannot let the country go to rack and ruin, even if that would please everybody." "That was a shocking thing they did at the burning-grounds. It's a horrid shame to treat you so. The Chota Rani has got rid of all her fears by dint of the Englishwoman's teaching, but as for me, I had to send for the priest to avert the omen before I could get any peace of mind. For my sake, dear, do get away to Calcutta. I tremble to think what they may do, if you stay on here." My sister-in-law's genuine anxiety touched me deeply. "And, brother," she went on, "did I not warn you, it was not well to keep so much money in your room? They might get wind of it any day. It is not the money--but who knows..." To calm her I promised to remove the money to the treasury at once, and then get it away to Calcutta with the first escort going. We went together to my bedroom. The dressing-room door was shut. When I knocked, Bimala called out: "I am dressing." "I wonder at the Chota Rani," exclaimed my sister-in-law, "dressing so early in the day! One of their __Bande Mataram__ meetings, I suppose. Robber Queen!" she called out in jest to Bimala. "Are you counting your spoils inside?" "I will attend to the money a little later," I said, as I came away to my office room outside. I found the Police Inspector waiting for me. "Any trace of the dacoits?" I asked. "I have my suspicions." "On whom?" "Kasim, the guard." "Kasim? But was he not wounded?" "A mere nothing. A flesh wound on the leg. Probably self- inflicted." "But I cannot bring myself to believe it. He is such a trusted servant." "You may have trusted him, but that does not prevent his being a thief. Have I not seen men trusted for twenty years together, suddenly developing..." "Even if it were so, I could not send him to gaol. But why should he have left the rest of the money lying about?" "To put us off the scent. Whatever you may say, Maharaja, he must be an old hand at the game. He mounts guard during his watch, right enough, but I feel sure he has a finger in all the dacoities going on in the neighbourhood." With this the Inspector proceeded to recount the various methods by which it was possible to be concerned in a dacoity twenty or thirty miles away, and yet be back in time for duty. "Have you brought Kasim here?" I asked. "No," was the reply, "he is in the lock-up. The Magistrate is due for the investigation." "I want to see him," I said. When I went to his cell he fell at my feet, weeping. "In God's name," he said, "I swear I did not do this thing." "I do not doubt you, Kasim," I assured him. "Fear nothing. They can do nothing to you, if you are innocent." Kasim, however, was unable to give a coherent account of the incident. He was obviously exaggerating. Four or five hundred men, big guns, numberless swords, figured in his narrative. It must have been either his disturbed state of mind or a desire to account for his easy defeat. He would have it that this was Harish Kundu's doing; he was even sure he had heard the voice of Ekram, the head retainer of the Kundus. "Look here, Kasim," I had to warn him, "don't you be dragging other people in with your stories. You are not called upon to make out a case against Harish Kundu, or anybody else." XIV On returning home I asked my master to come over. He shook his head gravely. "I see no good in this," said he--"this setting aside of conscience and putting the country in its place. All the sins of the country will now break out, hideous and unashamed." "Who do you think could have ..." "Don't ask me. But sin is rampant. Send them all away, right away from here." "I have given them one more day. They will be leaving the day after tomorrow." "And another thing. Take Bimala away to Calcutta. She is getting too narrow a view of the outside world from here, she cannot see men and things in their true proportions. Let her see the world--men and their work--give her abroad vision." "That is exactly what I was thinking." "Well, don't make any delay about it. I tell you, Nikhil, man's history has to be built by the united effort of all the races in the world, and therefore this selling of conscience for political reasons--this making a fetish of one's country, won't do. I know that Europe does not at heart admit this, but there she has not the right to pose as our teacher. Men who die for the truth become immortal: and, if a whole people can die for the truth, it will also achieve immortality in the history of humanity. Here, in this land of India, amid the mocking laughter of Satan piercing the sky, may the feeling for this truth become real! What a terrible epidemic of sin has been brought into our country from foreign lands..." The whole day passed in the turmoil of investigation. I was tired out when I retired for the night. I left over sending my sister-in-law's money to the treasury till next morning. I woke up from my sleep at dead of night. The room was dark. I thought I heard a moaning somewhere. Somebody must have been crying. Sounds of sobbing came heavy with tears like fitful gusts of wind in the rainy night. It seemed to me that the cry rose from the heart of my room itself. I was alone. For some days Bimala had her bed in another room adjoining mine. I rose up and when I went out I found her in the balcony lying prone upon her face on the bare floor. This is something that cannot be written in words. He only knows it who sits in the bosom of the world and receives all its pangs in His own heart. The sky is dumb, the stars are mute, the night is still, and in the midst of it all that one sleepless cry! We give these sufferings names, bad or good, according to the classifications of the books, but this agony which is welling up from a torn heart, pouring into the fathomless dark, has it any name? When in that midnight, standing under the silent stars, I looked upon that figure, my mind was struck with awe, and I said to myself: "Who am Ito judge her?" O life, O death, O God of the infinite existence, I bow my head in silence to the mystery which is in you. Once I thought I should turn back. But I could not. I sat down on the ground near Bimala and placed my hand on her head. At the first touch her whole body seemed to stiffen, but the next moment the hardness gave way, and the tears burst out. I gently passed my fingers over her forehead. Suddenly her hands groping for my feet grasped them and drew them to herself, pressing them against her breast with such force that I thought her heart would break. Bimala's Story XVIII Amulya is due to return from Calcutta this morning. I told the servants to let me know as soon as he arrived, but could not keep still. At last I went outside to await him in the sitting-room. When I sent him off to sell the jewels I must have been thinking only of myself. It never even crossed my mind that so young a boy, trying to sell such valuable jewellery, would at once be suspected. So helpless are we women, we needs must place on others the burden of our danger. When we go to our death we drag down those who are about us. I had said with pride that I would save Amulya--as if she who was drowning could save others. But instead of saving him, I have sent him to his doom. My little brother, such a sister have I been to you that Death must have smiled on that Brothers' Day when I gave you my blessing--I, who wander distracted with the burden of my own evil-doing. I feel today that man is at times attacked with evil as with the plague. Some germ finds its way in from somewhere, and then in the space of one night Death stalks in. Why cannot the stricken one be kept far away from the rest of the world? I, at least, have realized how terrible is the contagion--like a fiery torch which burns that it may set the world on fire. It struck nine. I could not get rid of the idea that Amulya was in trouble, that he had fallen into the clutches of the police. There must be great excitement in the Police Office--whose are the jewels?--where did he get them? And in the end I shall have to furnish the answer, in public, before all the world. What is that answer to be? Your day has come at last, Bara Rani, you whom I have so long despised. You, in the shape of the public, the world, will have your revenge. O God, save me this time, and I will cast all my pride at my sister-in-law's feet. I could bear it no longer. I went straight to the Bara Rani. She was in the verandah, spicing her betel leaves, Thako at her side. The sight of Thako made me shrink back for a moment, but I overcame all hesitation, and making a low obeisance I took the dust of my elder sister-in-law's feet. "Bless my soul, Chota Rani," she exclaimed, "what has come upon you? Why this sudden reverence?" "It is my birthday, sister," said I. "I have caused you pain. Give me your blessing today that I may never do so again. My mind is so small." I repeated my obeisance and left her hurriedly, but she called me back. "You never before told me that this was your birthday, Chotie darling! Be sure to come and have lunch with me this afternoon. You positively must." O God, let it really be my birthday today. Can I not be born over again? Cleanse me, my God, and purify me and give me one more trial! I went again to the sitting-room to find Sandip there. A feeling of disgust seemed to poison my very blood. The face of his, which I saw in the morning light, had nothing of the magic radiance of genius. "Will you leave the room," I blurted out. Sandip smiled. "Since Amulya is not here," he remarked, "I should think my turn had come for a special talk." My fate was coming back upon me. How was Ito take away the right I myself had given. "I would be alone," I repeated. "Queen," he said, "the presence of another person does not prevent your being alone. Do not mistake me for one of the crowd. I, Sandip, am always alone, even when surrounded by thousands." "Please come some other time. This morning I am ..." "Waiting for Amulya?" I turned to leave the room for sheer vexation, when Sandip drew out from the folds of his cloak that jewel-casket of mine and banged it down on the marble table. I was thoroughly startled. "Has not Amulya gone, then?" I exclaimed. "Gone where?" "To Calcutta?" "No," chuckled Sandip. Ah, then my blessing had come true, in spite of all. He was saved. Let God's punishment fall on me, the thief, if only Amulya be safe. The change in my countenance roused Sandip's scorn. "So pleased, Queen!" sneered he. "Are these jewels so very precious? How then did you bring yourself to offer them to the Goddess? Your gift was actually made. Would you now take it back?" Pride dies hard and raises its fangs to the last. It was clear to me I must show Sandip I did not care a rap about these jewels. "If they have excited your greed," I said, "you may have them." "My greed today embraces the wealth of all Bengal," replied Sandip. "Is there a greater force than greed? It is the steed of the great ones of the earth, as is the elephant, Airauat, the steed of Indra. So then these jewels are mine?" As Sandip took up and replaced the casket under his cloak, Amulya rushed in. There were dark rings under his eyes, his lips were dry, his hair tumbled: the freshness of his youth seemed to have withered in a single day. Pangs gripped my heart as I looked on him. "My box!" he cried, as he went straight up to Sandip without a glance at me. "Have you taken that jewel-box from my trunk?" "Your jewel-box?" mocked Sandip. "It was my trunk!" Sandip burst out into a laugh. "Your distinctions between mine and yours are getting rather thin, Amulya," he cried. "You will die a religious preacher yet, I see." Amulya sank on a chair with his face in his hands. I went up to him and placing my hand on his head asked him: "What is your trouble, Amulya?" He stood straight up as he replied: "I had set my heart, Sister Rani, on returning your jewels to you with my own hand. Sandip Babu knew this, but he forestalled me." "What do I care for my jewels?" I said. "Let them go. No harm is done. "Go? Where?" asked the mystified boy. "The jewels are mine," said Sandip. "Insignia bestowed on me by my Queen!" "No, no, no," broke out Amulya wildly. "Never, Sister Rani! I brought them back for you. You shall not give them away to anybody else." "I accept your gift, my little brother," said I. "But let him, who hankers after them, satisfy his greed." Amulya glared at Sandip like a beast of prey, as he growled: "Look here, Sandip Babu, you know that even hanging has no terrors for me. If you dare take away that box of jewels ..." With an attempt at a sarcastic laugh Sandip said: "You also ought to know by this time, Amulya, that I am not the man to be afraid of you." "Queen Bee," he went on, turning to me, "I did not come here today to take these jewels, I came to give them to you. You would have done wrong to take my gift at Amulya's hands. In order to prevent it, I had first to make them clearly mine. Now these my jewels are my gift to you. Here they are! Patch up any understanding with this boy you like. I must go. You have been at your special talks all these days together, leaving me out of them. If special happenings now come to pass, don't blame me. "Amulya," he continued, "I have sent on your trunks and things to your lodgings. Don't you be keeping any belongings of yours in my room any longer." With this parting shot, Sandip flung out of the room. XIX "I have had no peace of mind, Amulya," I said to him, "ever since I sent you off to sell my jewels." "Why, Sister Rani?" "I was afraid lest you should get into trouble with them, lest they should suspect you for a thief. I would rather go without that six thousand. You must now do another thing for me--go home at once, home to your mother." Amulya produced a small bundle and said: "But, sister, I have got the six thousand." "Where from?" "I tried hard to get gold," he went on, without replying to my question, "but could not. So I had to bring it in notes." "Tell me truly, Amulya, swear by me, where did you get this money?" "That I will not tell you." Everything seemed to grow dark before my eyes. "What terrible thing have you done, Amulya?" I cried. "Is it then ..." "I know you will say I got this money wrongly. Very well, I admit it. But I have paid the full price for my wrong-doing. So now the money is mine." I no longer had any desire to learn more about it. My very blood-vessels contracted, making my whole body shrink within itself. "Take it away, Amulya," I implored. "Put it back where you got it from." "That would be hard indeed!" "It is not hard, brother dear. It was an evil moment when you first came to me. Even Sandip has not been able to harm you as I have done." Sandip's name seemed to stab him. "Sandip!" he cried. "It was you alone who made me come to know that man for what he is. Do you know, sister, he has not spent a pice out of those sovereigns he took from you? He shut himself into his room, after he left you, and gloated over the gold, pouring it out in a heap on the floor. 'This is not money,' he exclaimed, 'but the petals of the divine lotus of power; crystallized strains of music from the pipes that play in the paradise of wealth! I cannot find it in my heart to change them, for they seem longing to fulfil their destiny of adorning the neck of Beauty. Amulya, my boy, don't you look at these with your fleshly eye, they are Lakshmi's smile, the gracious radiance of Indra's queen. No, no, I can't give them up to that boor of a manager. I am sure, Amulya, he was telling us lies. The police haven't traced the man who sank that boat. It's the manager who wants to make something out of it. We must get those letters back from him.' "I asked him how we were to do this; he told me to use force or threats. I offered to do so if he would return the gold. That, he said, we could consider later. I will not trouble you, sister, with all I did to frighten the man into giving up those letters and burn them--it is a long story. That very night I came to Sandip and said: 'We are now safe. Let me have the sovereigns to return them tomorrow to my sister, the Maharani.' But he cried, 'What infatuation is this of yours? Your precious sister's skirt bids fair to hide the whole country from you. Say __Bande Mataram__ and exorcize the evil spirit.' "You know, Sister Rani, the power of Sandip's magic. The gold remained with him. And I spent the whole dark night on the bathing-steps of the lake muttering __Bande Mataram__. "Then when you gave me your jewels to sell, I went again to Sandip. I could see he was angry with me. But he tried not to show it. 'If I still have them hoarded up in any box of mine you may take them,' said he, as he flung me his keys. They were nowhere to be seen. 'Tell me where they are,' I said. 'I will do so,' he replied, 'when I find your infatuation has left you. Not now.' "When I found I could not move him, I had to employ other methods. Then I tried to get the sovereigns from him in exchange for my currency notes for six thousand rupees. 'You shall have them,' he said, and disappeared into his bedroom, leaving me waiting outside. There he broke open my trunk and came straight to you with your casket through some other passage. He would not let me bring it, and now he dares call it his gift. How can I tell how much he has deprived me of? I shall never forgive him. "But, oh sister, his power over me has been utterly broken. And it is you who have broken it!" "Brother dear," said I, "if that is so, then my life is justified. But more remains to be done, Amulya. It is not enough that the spell has been destroyed. Its stains must be washed away. Don't delay any longer, go at once and put back the money where you took it from. Can you not do it, dear?" "With your blessing everything is possible, Sister Rani." "Remember, it will not be your expiation alone, but mine also. I am a woman; the outside world is closed to me, else I would have gone myself. My hardest punishment is that I must put on you the burden of my sin." "Don't say that, sister. The path I was treading was not your path. It attracted me because of its dangers and difficulties. Now that your path calls me, let it be a thousand times more difficult and dangerous, the dust of your feet will help me to win through. Is it then your command that this money be replaced?" "Not my command, brother mine, but a command from above." "Of that I know nothing. It is enough for me that this command from above comes from your lips. And, sister, I thought I had an invitation here. I must not lose that. You must give me your __prasad__ [26] before I go. Then, if I can possibly manage it, I will finish my duty in the evening." Tears came to my eyes when I tried to smile as I said: "So be it." ------ 26. Food consecrated by the touch of a revered person. Chapter Eleven Bimala's Story XX WITH Amulya's departure my heart sank within me. On what perilous adventure had I sent this only son of his mother? O God, why need my expiation have such pomp and circumstance? Could I not be allowed to suffer alone without inviting all this multitude to share my punishment? Oh, let not this innocent child fall victim to Your wrath. I called him back--"Amulya!" My voice sounded so feebly, it failed to reach him. I went up to the door and called again: "Amulya!" He had gone. "Who is there?" "Rani Mother!" "Go and tell Amulya Babu that I want him." What exactly happened I could not make out--the man, perhaps, was not familiar with Amulya's name--but he returned almost at once followed by Sandip. "The very moment you sent me away," he said as he came in, "I had a presentiment that you would call me back. The attraction of the same moon causes both ebb and flow. I was so sure of being sent for, that I was actually waiting out in the passage. As soon as I caught sight of your man, coming from your room, I said: 'Yes, yes, I am coming, I am coming at once!'--before he could utter a word. That up-country lout was surprised, I can tell you! He stared at me, open-mouthed, as if he thought I knew magic. "All the fights in the world, Queen Bee," Sandip rambled on, "are really fights between hypnotic forces. Spell cast against spell --noiseless weapons which reach even invisible targets. At last I have met in you my match. Your quiver is full, I know, you artful warrior Queen! You are the only one in the world who has been able to turn Sandip out and call Sandip back, at your sweet will. Well, your quarry is at your feet. What will you do with him now? Will you give him the coup de grâce, or keep him in your cage? Let me warn you beforehand, Queen, you will find the beast as difficult to kill outright as to keep in bondage. Anyway, why lose time in trying your magic weapons?" Sandip must have felt the shadow of approaching defeat, and this made him try to gain time by chattering away without waiting for a reply. I believe he knew that I had sent the messenger for Amulya, whose name the man must have mentioned. In spite of that he had deliberately played this trick. He was now trying to avoid giving me any opening to tell him that it was Amulya I wanted, not him. But his stratagem was futile, for I could see his weakness through it. I must not yield up a pin's point of the ground I had gained. "Sandip Babu," I said, "I wonder how you can go on making these endless speeches, without a stop. Do you get them up by heart, beforehand?" Sandip's face flushed instantly. "I have heard," I continued, "that our professional reciters keep a book full of all kinds of ready-made discourses, which can be fitted into any subject. Have you also a book?" Sandip ground out his reply through his teeth. "God has given you women a plentiful supply of coquetry to start with, and on the top of that you have the milliner and the jeweller to help you; but do not think we men are so helpless ..." "You had better go back and look up your book, Sandip Babu. You are getting your words all wrong. That's just the trouble with trying to repeat things by rote." "You!" shouted Sandip, losing all control over himself. "You to insult me thus! What is there left of you that I do not know to the very bottom? What ..." He became speechless. Sandip, the wielder of magic spells, is reduced to utter powerlessness, whenever his spell refuses to work. From a king he fell to the level of a boor. Oh, the joy of witnessing his weakness! The harsher he became in his rudeness, the more did this joy well up within me. His snaky coils, with which he used to snare me, are exhausted--I am free. I am saved, saved. Be rude to me, insult me, for that shows you in your truth; but spare me your songs of praise, which were false. My husband came in at this juncture. Sandip had not the elasticity to recover himself in a moment, as he used to do before. My husband looked at him for a while in surprise. Had this happened some days ago I should have felt ashamed. But today I was pleased--whatever my husband might think. I wanted to have it out to the finish with my weakening adversary. Finding us both silent and constrained, my husband hesitated a little, and then took a chair. "Sandip," he said, "I have been looking for you, and was told you were here." "I am here," said Sandip with some emphasis. "Queen Bee sent for me early this morning. And I, the humble worker of the hive, left all else to attend her summons." "I am going to Calcutta tomorrow. You will come with me. "And why, pray? Do you take me for one of your retinue?" "Oh, very well, take it that you are going to Calcutta, and that I am your follower." "I have no business there." "All the more reason for going. You have too much business here." "I don't propose to stir." "Then I propose to shift you." "Forcibly?" "Forcibly." "Very well, then, I will make a move. But the world is not divided between Calcutta and your estates. There are other places on the map." "From the way you have been going on, one would hardly have thought that there was any other place in the world except my estates." Sandip stood up. "It does happen at times," he said, "that a man's whole world is reduced to a single spot. I have realized my universe in this sitting-room of yours, that is why I have been a fixture here." Then he turned to me. "None but you, Queen Bee," he said, "will understand my words--perhaps not even you. I salute you. With worship in my heart I leave you. My watchword has changed since you have come across my vision. It is no longer __Bande Mataram__ (Hail Mother), but Hail Beloved, Hail Enchantress. The mother protects, the mistress leads to destruction--but sweet is that destruction. You have made the anklet sounds of the dance of death tinkle in my heart. You have changed for me, your devotee, the picture I had of this Bengal of ours--'the soft breeze-cooled land of pure water and sweet fruit.' [27] You have no pity, my beloved. You have come to me with your poison cup and I shall drain it, either to die in agony or live triumphing over death. "Yes," he continued. "The mother's day is past. O love, my love, you have made as naught for me the truth and right and heaven itself. All duties have become as shadows: all rules and restraints have snapped their bonds. O love, my love, I could set fire to all the world outside this land on which you have set your dainty feet, and dance in mad revel over the ashes ... These are mild men. These are good men. They would do good to all--as if this all were a reality! No, no! There is no reality in the world save this one real love of mine. I do you reverence. My devotion to you has made me cruel; my worship of you has lighted the raging flame of destruction within me. I am not righteous. I have no beliefs, I only believe in her whom, above all else in the world, I have been able to realize." Wonderful! It was wonderful, indeed. Only a minute ago I had despised this man with all my heart. But what I had thought to be dead ashes now glowed with living fire. The fire in him is true, that is beyond doubt. Oh why has God made man such a mixed creature? Was it only to show his supernatural sleight of hand? Only a few minutes ago I had thought that Sandip, whom I had once taken to be a hero, was only the stage hero of melodrama. But that is not so, not so. Even behind the trappings of the theatre, a true hero may sometimes be lurking. There is much in Sandip that is coarse, that is sensuous, that is false, much that is overlaid with layer after layer of fleshly covering. Yet--yet it is best to confess that there is a great deal in the depths of him which we do not, cannot understand-- much in ourselves too. A wonderful thing is man. What great mysterious purpose he is working out only the Terrible One [28] knows--meanwhile we groan under the brunt of it. Shiva is the Lord of Chaos. He is all Joy. He will destroy our bonds. I cannot but feel, again and again, that there are two persons in me. One recoils from Sandip in his terrible aspect of Chaos--the other feels that very vision to be sweetly alluring. The sinking ship drags down all who are swimming round it. Sandip is just such a force of destruction. His immense attraction gets hold of one before fear can come to the rescue, and then, in the twinkling of an eye, one is drawn away, irresistibly, from all light, all good, all freedom of the sky, all air that can be breathed--from lifelong accumulations, from everyday cares--right to the bottom of dissolution. From some realm of calamity has Sandip come as its messenger; and as he stalks the land, muttering unholy incantations, to him flock all the boys and youths. The mother, seated in the lotus- heart of the Country, is wailing her heart out; for they have broken open her store-room, there to hold their drunken revelry. Her vintage of the draught for the immortals they would pour out on the dust; her time-honoured vessels they would smash to pieces. True, I feel with her; but, at the same time, I cannot help being infected with their excitement. Truth itself has sent us this temptation to test our trustiness in upholding its commandments. Intoxication masquerades in heavenly garb, and dances before the pilgrims saying: "Fools you are that pursue the fruitless path of renunciation. Its way is long, its time passing slow. So the Wielder of the Thunderbolt has sent me to you. Behold, I the beautiful, the passionate, I will accept you--in my embrace you shall find fulfilment." After a pause Sandip addressed me again: "Goddess, the time has come for me to leave you. It is well. The work of your nearness has been done. By lingering longer it would only become undone again, little by little. All is lost, if in our greed we try to cheapen that which is the greatest thing on earth. That which is eternal within the moment only becomes shallow if spread out in time. We were about to spoil our infinite moment, when it was your uplifted thunderbolt which came to the rescue. You intervened to save the purity of your own worship--and in so doing you also saved your worshipper. In my leave-taking today your worship stands out the biggest thing. Goddess, I, also, set you free today. My earthen temple could hold you no longer-- every moment it was on the point of breaking apart. Today I depart to worship your larger image in a larger temple. I can gain you more truly only at a distance from yourself. Here I had only your favour, there I shall be vouchsafed your boon." My jewel-casket was lying on the table. I held it up aloft as I said: "I charge you to convey these my jewels to the object of my worship--to whom I have dedicated them through you." My husband remained silent. Sandip left the room. ------ 27. Quotation from the National song--__Bande Mataram__. 28. Rudra, the Terrible, a name of Shiva. [Trans.]. XXI I had just sat down to make some cakes for Amulya when the Bara Rani came upon the scene. "Oh dear," she exclaimed, "has it come to this that you must make cakes for your own birthday?" "Is there no one else for whom I could be making them?" I asked. "But this is not the day when you should think of feasting others. It is for us to feast you. I was just thinking of making something up [29] when I heard the staggering news which completely upset me. A gang of five or six hundred men, they say, has raided one of our treasuries and made off with six thousand rupees. Our house will be looted next, they expect." I felt greatly relieved. So it was our own money after all. I wanted to send for Amulya at once and tell him that he need only hand over those notes to my husband and leave the explanations to me. "You are a wonderful creature!" my sister-in-law broke out, at the change in my countenance. "Have you then really no such thing as fear?" "I cannot believe it," I said. "Why should they loot our house?" "Not believe it, indeed! Who could have believed that they would attack our treasury, either?" I made no reply, but bent over my cakes, putting in the cocoa-nut stuffing. "Well, I'm off," said the Bara Rani after a prolonged stare at me. "I must see Brother Nikhil and get something done about sending off my money to Calcutta, before it's too late." She was no sooner gone than I left the cakes to take care of themselves and rushed to my dressing-room, shutting myself inside. My husband's tunic with the keys in its pocket was still hanging there--so forgetful was he. I took the key of the iron safe off the ring and kept it by me, hidden in the folds of my dress. Then there came a knocking at the door. "I am dressing," I called out. I could hear the Bara Rani saying: "Only a minute ago I saw her making cakes and now she is busy dressing up. What next, I wonder! One of their __Bande Mataram__ meetings is on, I suppose. I say, Robber Queen," she called out to me, "are you taking stock of your loot?" When they went away I hardly know what made me open the safe. Perhaps there was a lurking hope that it might all be a dream. What if, on pulling out the inside drawer, I should find the rolls of gold there, just as before? ... Alas, everything was empty as the trust which had been betrayed. I had to go through the farce of dressing. I had to do my hair up all over again, quite unnecessarily. When I came out my sister-in-law railed at me: "How many times are you going to dress today?" "My birthday!" I said. "Oh, any pretext seems good enough," she went on. "Many vain people have I seen in my day, but you beat them all hollow." I was about to summon a servant to send after Amulya, when one of the men came up with a little note, which he handed to me. It was from Amulya. "Sister," he wrote, "you invited me this afternoon, but I thought I should not wait. Let me first execute your bidding and then come for my __prasad__. I may be a little late." To whom could he be going to return that money? into what fresh entanglement was the poor boy rushing? O miserable woman, you can only send him off like an arrow, but not recall him if you miss your aim. I should have declared at once that I was at the bottom of this robbery. But women live on the trust of their surroundings--this is their whole world. If once it is out that this trust has been secretly betrayed, their place in their world is lost. They have then to stand upon the fragments of the thing they have broken, and its jagged edges keep on wounding them at every turn. To sin is easy enough, but to make up for it is above all difficult for a woman. For some time past all easy approaches for communion with my husband have been closed to me. How then could I burst on him with this stupendous news? He was very late in coming for his meal today--nearly two o'clock. He was absent-minded and hardly touched any food. I had lost even the right to press him to take a little more. I had to avert my face to wipe away my tears. I wanted so badly to say to him: "Do come into our room and rest awhile; you look so tired." I had just cleared my throat with a little cough, when a servant hurried in to say that the Police Inspector had brought Panchu up to the palace. My husband, with the shadow on his face deepened, left his meal unfinished and went out. A little later the Bara Rani appeared. "Why did you not send me word when Brother Nikhil came in?" she complained. "As he was late I thought I might as well finish my bath in the meantime. However did he manage to get through his meal so soon?" "Why, did you want him for anything?" "What is this about both of you going off to Calcutta tomorrow? All I can say is, I am not going to be left here alone. I should get startled out of my life at every sound, with all these dacoits about. Is it quite settled about your going tomorrow?" "Yes," said I, though I had only just now heard it; and though, moreover, I was not at all sure that before tomorrow our history might not take such a turn as to make it all one whether we went or stayed. After that, what our home, our life would be like, was utterly beyond my ken--it seemed so misty and phantom-like. In a very few hours now my unseen fate would become visible. Was there no one who could keep on postponing the flight of these hours, from day to day, and so make them long enough for me to set things right, so far as lay in my power? The time during which the seed lies underground is long--so long indeed that one forgets that there is any danger of its sprouting. But once its shoot shows up above the surface, it grows and grows so fast, there is no time to cover it up, neither with skirt, nor body, nor even life itself. I will try to think of it no more, but sit quiet--passive and callous--let the crash come when it may. By the day after tomorrow all will be over--publicity, laughter, bewailing, questions, explanations--everything. But I cannot forget the face of Amulya--beautiful, radiant with devotion. He did not wait, despairing, for the blow of fate to fall, but rushed into the thick of danger. In my misery I do him reverence. He is my boy-god. Under the pretext of his playfulness he took from me the weight of my burden. He would save me by taking the punishment meant for me on his own head. But how am Ito bear this terrible mercy of my God? Oh, my child, my child, I do you reverence. Little brother mine, I do you reverence. Pure are you, beautiful are you, I do you reverence. May you come to my arms, in the next birth, as my own child--that is my prayer. ------ 29. Any dainties to be offered ceremonially should be made by the lady of the house herself. [Trans.]. XXII Rumour became busy on every side. The police were continually in and out. The servants of the house were in a great flurry. Khema, my maid, came up to me and said: "Oh, Rani Mother! for goodness" sake put away my gold necklace and armlets in your iron safe." To whom was I to explain that the Rani herself had been weaving all this network of trouble, and had got caught in it, too? I had to play the benign protector and take charge of Khema's ornaments and Thako's savings. The milk-woman, in her turn, brought along and kept in my room a box in which were a Benares __sari__ and some other of her valued possessions. "I got these at your wedding," she told me. When, tomorrow, my iron safe will be opened in the presence of these--Khema, Thako, the milk-woman and all the rest ... Let me not think of it! Let me rather try to think what it will be like when this third day of Magh comes round again after a year has passed. Will all the wounds of my home life then be still as fresh as ever? ... Amulya writes that he will come later in the evening. I cannot remain alone with my thoughts, doing nothing. So I sit down again to make cakes for him. I have finished making quite a quantity, but still I must go on. Who will eat them? I shall distribute them amongst the servants. I must do so this very night. Tonight is my limit. Tomorrow will not be in my hands. I went on untiringly, frying cake after cake. Every now and then it seemed to me that there was some noise in the direction of my rooms, upstairs. Could it be that my husband had missed the key of the safe, and the Bara Rani had assembled all the servants to help him to hunt for it? No, I must not pay heed to these sounds. Let me shut the door. I rose to do so, when Thako came panting in: "Rani Mother, oh, Rani Mother!" "Oh get away!" I snapped out, cutting her short. "Don't come bothering me." "The Bara Rani Mother wants you," she went on. "Her nephew has brought such a wonderful machine from Calcutta. It talks like a man. Do come and hear it!" I did not know whether to laugh or to cry. So, of all things, a gramophone needs must come on the scene at such a time, repeating at every winding the nasal twang of its theatrical songs! What a fearsome thing results when a machine apes a man. The shades of evening began to fall. I knew that Amulya would not delay to announce himself--yet I could not wait. I summone d a servant and said: "Go and tell Amulya Babu to come straight in here." The man came back after a while to say that Amulya was not in--he had not come back since he had gone. "Gone!" The last word struck my ears like a wail in the gathering darkness. Amulya gone! Had he then come like a streak of light from the setting sun, only to be gone for ever? All kinds of possible and impossible dangers flitted through my mind. It was I who had sent him to his death. What if he was fearless? That only showed his own greatness of heart. But after this how was Ito go on living all by myself? I had no memento of Amulya save that pistol--his reverence- offering. It seemed to me that this was a sign given by Providence. This guilt which had contaminated my life at its very root--my God in the form of a child had left with me the means of wiping it away, and then vanished. Oh the loving gift-- the saving grave that lay hidden within it! I opened my box and took out the pistol, lifting it reverently to my forehead. At that moment the gongs clanged out from the temple attached to our house. I prostrated myself in salutation. In the evening I feasted the whole household with my cakes. "You have managed a wonderful birthday feast--and all by yourself too!" exclaimed my sister-in-law. "But you must leave something for us to do." With this she turned on her gramophone and let loose the shrill treble of the Calcutta actresses all over the place. It seemed like a stable full of neighing fillies. It got quite late before the feasting was over. I had a sudden longing to end my birthday celebration by taking the dust of my husband's feet. I went up to the bedroom and found him fast asleep. He had had such a worrying, trying day. I raised the edge of the mosquito curtain very very gently, and laid my head near his feet. My hair must have touched him, for he moved his legs in his sleep and pushed my head away. I then went out and sat in the west verandah. A silk-cotton tree, which had shed all its leaves, stood there in the distance, like a skeleton. Behind it the crescent moon was setting. All of a sudden I had the feeling that the very stars in the sky were afraid of me--that the whole of the night world was looking askance at me. Why? Because I was alone. There is nothing so strange in creation as the man who is alone. Even he whose near ones have all died, one by one, is not alone-- companionship comes for him from behind the screen of death. But he, whose kin are there, yet no longer near, who has dropped out of all the varied companionship of a full home--the starry universe itself seems to bristle to look on him in his darkness. Where I am, I am not. I am far away from those who are around me. I live and move upon a world-wide chasm of separation, unstable as the dew-drop upon the lotus leaf. Why do not men change wholly when they change? When I look into my heart, I find everything that was there, still there--only they are topsy-turvy. Things that were well-ordered have become jumbled up. The gems that were strung into a necklace are now rolling in the dust. And so my heart is breaking. I feel I want to die. Yet in my heart everything still lives-- nor even in death can I see the end of it all: rather, in death there seems to be ever so much more of repining. What is to be ended must be ended in this life--there is no other way out. Oh forgive me just once, only this time, Lord! All that you gave into my hands as the wealth of my life, I have made into my burden. I can neither bear it longer, nor give it up. O Lord, sound once again those flute strains which you played for me, long ago, standing at the rosy edge of my morning sky--and let all my complexities become simple and easy. Nothing save the music of your flute can make whole that which has been broken, and pure that which has been sullied. Create my home anew with your music. No other way can I see. I threw myself prone on the ground and sobbed aloud. It was for mercy that I prayed--some little mercy from somewhere, some shelter, some sign of forgiveness, some hope that might bring about the end. "Lord," I vowed to myself, "I will lie here, waiting and waiting, touching neither food nor drink, so long as your blessing does not reach me." I heard the sound of footsteps. Who says that the gods do not show themselves to mortal men? I did not raise my face to look up, lest the sight of it should break the spell. Come, oh come, come and let your feet touch my head. Come, Lord, and set your foot upon my throbbing heart, and at that moment let me die. He came and sat near my head. Who? My husband! At the first touch of his presence I felt that I should swoon. And then the pain at my heart burst its way out in an overwhelming flood of tears, tearing through all my obstructing veins and nerves. I strained his feet to my bosom--oh, why could not their impress remain there for ever? He tenderly stroked my head. I received his blessing. Now I shall be able to take up the penalty of public humiliation which will be mine tomorrow, and offer it, in all sincerity, at the feet of my God. But what keeps crushing my heart is the thought that the festive flutes which were played at my wedding, nine years ago, welcoming me to this house, will never sound for me again in this life. What rigour of penance is there which can serve to bring me once more, as a bride adorned for her husband, to my place upon that same bridal seat? How many years, how many ages, aeons, must pass before I can find my way back to that day of nine years ago? God can create new things, but has even He the power to create afresh that which has been destroyed? Chapter Twelve Nikhil's Story XV TODAY we are going to Calcutta. Our joys and sorrows lie heavy on us if we merely go on accumulating them. Keeping them and accumulating them alike are false. As master of the house I am in an artificial position--in reality I am a wayfarer on the path of life. That is why the true Master of the House gets hurt at every step and at last there comes the supreme hurt of death. My union with you, my love, was only of the wayside; it was well enough so long as we followed the same road; it will only hamper us if we try to preserve it further. We are now leaving its bonds behind. We are started on our journey beyond, and it will be enough if we can throw each other a glance, or feel the touch of each other's hands in passing. After that? After that there is the larger world-path, the endless current of universal life. How little can you deprive me of, my love, after all? Whenever I set my ear to it, I can hear the flute which is playing, its fountain of melody gushing forth from the flute-stops of separation. The immortal draught of the goddess is never exhausted. She sometimes breaks the bowl from which we drink it, only to smile at seeing us so disconsolate over the trifling loss. I will not stop to pick up my broken bowl. I will march forward, albeit with unsatisfied heart. The Bara Rani came and asked me: "What is the meaning, brother, of all these books being packed up and sent off in box-loads?" "It only means," I replied, "that I have not yet been able to get over my fondness for them." "I only wish you would keep your fondness for some other things as well! Do you mean you are never coming back home?" "I shall be coming and going, but shall not immure myself here any more." "Oh indeed! Then just come along to my room and see how many things __I__ have been unable to shake off __my__ fondness for." With this she took me by the hand and marched me off. In my sister-in-law's rooms I found numberless boxes and bundles ready packed. She opened one of the boxes and said: "See, brother, look at all my __pan__-making things. In this bottle I have catechu powder scented with the pollen of screw-pine blossoms. These little tin boxes are all for different kinds of spices. I have not forgotten my playing cards and draught-board either. If you two are over-busy, I shall manage to make other friends there, who will give me a game. Do you remember this comb? It was one of the __Swadeshi__ combs you brought for me..." "But what is all this for, Sister Rani? Why have you been packing up all these things?" "Do you think I am not going with you?" "What an extraordinary idea!" "Don't you be afraid! I am not going there to flirt with you, nor to quarrel with the Chota Rani! One must die sooner or later, and it is just as well to be on the bank of the holy Ganges before it is too late. It is too horrible to think of being cremated in your wretched burning-ground here, under that stumpy banian tree--that is why I have been refusing to die, and have plagued you all this time." At last I could hear the true voice of home. The Bara Rani came into our house as its bride, when I was only six years old. We have played together, through the drowsy afternoons, in a corner of the roof-terrace. I have thrown down to her green amras from the tree-top, to be made into deliciously indigestible chutnies by slicing them up with mustard, salt and fragrant herbs. It was my part to gather for her all the forbidden things from the store-room to be used in the marriage celebration of her doll; for, in the penal code of my grandmother, I alone was exempt from punishment. And I used to be appointed her messenger to my brother, whenever she wanted to coax something special out of him, because he could not resist my importunity. I also remember how, when I suffered under the rigorous régime of the doctors of those days--who would not allow anything except warm water and sugared cardamom seeds during feverish attacks--my sister-in-law could not bear my privation and used to bring me delicacies on the sly. What a scolding she got one day when she was caught! And then, as we grew up, our mutual joys and sorrows took on deeper tones of intimacy. How we quarrelled! Sometimes conflicts of worldly interests roused suspicions and jealousies, making breaches in our love; and when the Chota Rani came in between us, these breaches seemed as if they would never be mended, but it always turned out that the healing forces at bottom proved more powerful than the wounds on the surface. So has a true relationship grown up between us, from our childhood up till now, and its branching foliage has spread and broadened over every room and verandah and terrace of this great house. When I saw the Bara Rani make ready, with all her belongings, to depart from this house of ours, all the ties that bound us, to their wide-spreading ends, felt the shock. The reason was clear to me, why she had made up her mind to drift away towards the unknown, cutting asunder all her lifelong bonds of daily habit, and of the house itself, which she had never left for a day since she first entered it at the age of nine. And yet it was this real reason which she could not allow to escape her lips, preferring rather to put forward any other paltry excuse. She had only this one relationship left in all the world, and the poor, unfortunate, widowed and childless woman had cherished it with all the tenderness hoarded in her heart. How deeply she had felt our proposed separation I never realized so keenly as when I stood amongst her scattered boxes and bundles. I could see at once that the little differences she used to have with Bimala, about money matters, did not proceed from any sordid worldliness, but because she felt that her claims in regard to this one relationship of her life had been overridden and its ties weakened for her by the coming in between of this other woman from goodness knows where! She had been hurt at every turn and yet had not the right to complain. And Bimala? She also had felt that the Senior Rani's claim over me was not based merely on our social connection, but went much deeper; and she was jealous of these ties between us, reaching back to our childhood. Today my heart knocked heavily against the doors of my breast. I sank down upon one of the boxes as I said: "How I should love, Sister Rani, to go back to the days when we first met in this old house of ours." "No, brother dear," she replied with a sigh, "I would not live my life again--not as a woman! Let what I have had to bear end with this one birth. I could not bear it over again." I said to her: "The freedom to which we pass through sorrow is greater than the sorrow." "That may be so for you men. Freedom is for you. But we women would keep others bound. We would rather be put into bondage ourselves. No, no, brother, you will never get free from our toils. If you needs must spread your wings, you will have to take us with you; we refuse to be left behind. That is why I have gathered together all this weight of luggage. It would never do to allow men to run too light." "I can feel the weight of your words," I said laughing, "and if we men do not complain of your burdens, it is because women pay us so handsomely for what they make us carry." "You carry it," she said, "because it is made up of many small things. Whichever one you think of rejecting pleads that it is so light. And so with much lightness we weigh you down ... When do we start?" "The train leaves at half past eleven tonight. There will be lots of time." "Look here, do be good for once and listen to just one word of mine. Take a good nap this afternoon. You know you never get any sleep in the train. You look so pulled down, you might go to pieces any moment. Come along, get through your bath first." As we went towards my room, Khema, the maid, came up and with an ultra-modest pull at her veil told us, in deprecatingly low tones, that the Police Inspector had arrived with a prisoner and wanted to see the Maharaja. "Is the Maharaja a thief, or a robber," the Bara Rani flared up, "that he should be set upon so by the police? Go and tell the Inspector that the Maharaja is at his bath." "Let me just go and see what is the matter," I pleaded. "It may be something urgent." "No, no," my sister-in-law insisted. "Our Chota Rani was making a heap of cakes last night. I'll send some to the Inspector, to keep him quiet till you're ready." With this she pushed me into my room and shut the door on me. I had not the power to resist such tyranny--so rare is it in this world. Let the Inspector while away the time eating cakes. What if business is a bit neglected? The police had been in great form these last few days arresting now this one, now that. Each day some innocent person or other would be brought along to enliven the assembly in my office-room. One more such unfortunate, I supposed, must have been brought in that day. But why should the Inspector alone be regaled with cakes? That would not do at all. I thumped vigorously on the door. "If you are going mad, be quick and pour some water over your head--that will keep you cool," said my sister-in-law from the passage. "Send down cakes for two," I shouted. "The person who has been brought in as the thief probably deserves them better. Tell the man to give him a good big helping." I hurried through my bath. When I came out, I found Bimal sitting on the floor outside. [30] Could this be my Bimal of old, my proud, sensitive Bimal? What favour could she be wanting to beg, seated like this at my door? As I stopped short, she stood up and said gently with downcast eyes: "I would have a word with you." "Come inside then," I said. "But are you going out on any particular business?" "I was, but let that be. I want to hear ..." "No, finish your business first. We will have our talk after you have had your dinner." I went off to my sitting-room, to find the Police Inspector's plate quite empty. The person he had brought with him, however, was still busy eating. "Hullo!" I ejaculated in surprise. "You, Amulya?" "It is I, sir," said Amulya with his mouth full of cake. "I've had quite a feast. And if you don't mind, I'll take the rest with me." With this he proceeded to tie up the remaining cakes in his handkerchief. "What does this mean?" I asked, staring at the Inspector. The man laughed. "We are no nearer, sir," he said, "to solving the problem of the thief: meanwhile the mystery of the theft deepens." He then produced something tied up in a rag, which when untied disclosed a bundle of currency notes. "This, Maharaja," said the Inspector, "is your six thousand rupees!" "Where was it found?" "In Amulya Babu's hands. He went last evening to the manager of your Chakna sub-office to tell him that the money had been found. The manager seemed to be in a greater state of trepidation at the recovery than he had been at the robbery. He was afraid he would be suspected of having made away with the notes and of now making up a cock-and-bull story for fear of being found out. He asked Amulya to wait, on the pretext of getting him some refreshment, and came straight over to the Police Office. I rode off at once, kept Amulya with me, and have been busy with him the whole morning. He refuses to tell us where he got the money from. I warned him he would be kept under restraint till he did so. In that case, he informed me he would have to lie. Very well, I said, he might do so if he pleased. Then he stated that he had found the money under a bush. I pointed out to him that it was not quite so easy to lie as all that. Under what bush? Where was the place? Why was he there?--All this would have to be stated as well. 'Don't you worry,' he said, 'there is plenty of time to invent all that.'" "But, Inspector," I said, "why are you badgering a respectable young gentleman like Amulya Babu?" "I have no desire to harass him," said the Inspector. "He is not only a gentleman, but the son of Nibaran Babu, my school-fellow. Let me tell you, Maharaja, exactly what must have happened. Amulya knows the thief, but wants to shield him by drawing suspicion on himself. That is just the sort of bravado he loves to indulge in." The Inspector turned to Amulya. "Look here, young man," he continued, "I also was eighteen once upon a time, and a student in the Ripon College. I nearly got into gaol trying to rescue a hack driver from a police constable. It was a near shave." Then he turned again to me and said: "Maharaja, the real thief will now probably escape, but I think I can tell you who is at the bottom of it all." "Who is it, then?" I asked. "The manager, in collusion with the guard, Kasim." When the Inspector, having argued out his theory to his own satisfaction, at last departed, I said to Amulya: "If you will tell me who took the money, I promise you no one shall be hurt." "I did," said he. "But how can that be? What about the gang of armed men?..." "It was I, by myself, alone!" What Amulya then told me was indeed extraordinary. The manager had just finished his supper and was on the verandah rinsing out his mouth. The place was somewhat dark. Amulya had a revolver in each pocket, one loaded with blank cartridges, the other with ball. He had a mask over his face. He flashed a bull's-eye lantern in the manager's face and fired a blank shot. The man swooned away. Some of the guards, who were off duty, came running up, but when Amulya fired another blank shot at them they lost no time in taking cover. Then Kasim, who was on duty, came up whirling a quarterstaff. This time Amulya aimed a bullet at his legs, and finding himself hit, Kasim collapsed on the floor. Amulya then made the trembling manager, who had come to his senses, open the safe and deliver up six thousand rupees. Finally, he took one of the estate horses and galloped off a few miles, there let the animal loose, and quietly walked up here, to our place. "What made you do all this, Amulya?" I asked. "There was a grave reason, Maharaja," he replied. "But why, then, did you try to return the money?" "Let her come, at whose command I did so. In her presence I shall make a clean breast of it." "And who may 'she' be?" "My sister, the Chota Rani!" I sent for Bimala. She came hesitatingly, barefoot, with a white shawl over her head. I had never seen my Bimal like this before. She seemed to have wrapped herself in a morning light. Amulya prostrated himself in salutation and took the dust of her feet. Then, as he rose, he said: "Your command has been executed, sister. The money is returned." "You have saved me, my little brother," said Bimal. "With your image in my mind, I have not uttered a single lie," Amulya continued. "My watchword __Bande Mataram__ has been cast away at your feet for good. I have also received my reward, your __prasad__, as soon as I came to the palace." Bimal looked at him blankly, unable to follow his last words. Amulya brought out his handkerchief, and untying it showed her the cakes put away inside. "I did not eat them all," he said. "I have kept these to eat after you have helped me with your own hands." I could see that I was not wanted here. I went out of the room. I could only preach and preach, so I mused, and get my effigy burnt for my pains. I had not yet been able to bring back a single soul from the path of death. They who have the power, can do so by a mere sign. My words have not that ineffable meaning. I am not a flame, only a black coal, which has gone out. I can light no lamp. That is what the story of my life shows--my row of lamps has remained unlit. ------ 30. Sitting on the bare floor is a sign of mourning, and so, by association of ideas, of an abject attitude of mind. [Trans.]. XVI I returned slowly towards the inner apartments. The Bara Rani's room must have been drawing me again. It had become an absolute necessity for me, that day, to feel that this life of mine had been able to strike some real, some responsive chord in some other harp of life. One cannot realize one's own existence by remaining within oneself--it has to be sought outside. As I passed in front of my sister-in-law's room, she came out saying: "I was afraid you would be late again this afternoon. However. I ordered your dinner as soon as I heard you coming. It will be served in a minute." "Meanwhile," I said; "let me take out that money of yours and have it kept ready to take with us." As we walked on towards my room she asked me if the Police Inspector had made any report about the robbery. I somehow did not feel inclined to tell her all the details of how that six thousand had come back. "That's just what all the fuss is about," I said evasively. When I went into my dressing-room and took out my bunch of keys, I did not find the key of the iron safe on the ring. What an absurdly absent-minded fellow I was, to be sure! Only this morning I had been opening so many boxes and things, and never noticed that this key was not there. "What has happened to your key?" she asked me. I went on fumbling in this pocket and that, but could give her no answer. I hunted in the same place over and over again. It dawned on both of us that it could not be a case of the key being mislaid. Someone must have taken it off the ring. Who could it be? Who else could have come into this room? "Don't you worry about it," she said to me. "Get through your dinner first. The Chota Rani must have kept it herself, seeing how absent-minded you are getting." I was, however, greatly disturbed. It was never Bimal's habit to take any key of mine without telling me about it. Bimal was not present at my meal-time that day: she was busy feasting Amulya in her own room. My sister-in-law wanted to send for her, but I asked her not to do so. I had just finished my dinner when Bimal came in. I would have preferred not to discuss the matter of the key in the Bara Rani's presence, but as soon as she saw Bimal, she asked her: "Do you know, dear, where the key of the safe is?" "I have it," was the reply. "Didn't I say so!" exclaimed my sister-in-law triumphantly. "Our Chota Rani pretends not to care about these robberies, but she takes precautions on the sly, all the same." The look on Bimal's face made my mind misgive me. "Let the key be, now," I said. "I will take out that money in the evening." "There you go again, putting it off," said the Bara Rani. "Why not take it out and send it to the treasury while you have it in mind?" "I have taken it out already," said Bimal. I was startled. "Where have you kept it, then?" asked my sister-in-law. "I have spent it." "Just listen to her! Whatever did you spend all that money on?" Bimal made no reply. I asked her nothing further. The Bara Rani seemed about to make some further remark to Bimala, but checked herself. "Well, that is all right, anyway," she said at length, as she looked towards me. "Just what I used to do with my husband's loose cash. I knew it was no use leaving it with him-- his hundred and one hangers-on would be sure to get hold of it. You are much the same, dear! What a number of ways you men know of getting through money. We can only save it from you by stealing it ourselves! Come along now. Off with you to bed." The Bara Rani led me to my room, but I hardly knew where I was going. She sat by my bed after I was stretched on it, and smiled at Bimal as she said: "Give me one of your pans, Chotie darling-- what? You have none! You have become a regular mem-sahib. Then send for some from my room." "But have you had your dinner yet?" I anxiously enquired. "Oh long ago," she replied--clearly a fib. She kept on chattering away there at my bedside, on all manner of things. The maid came and told Bimal that her dinner had been served and was getting cold, but she gave no sign of having heard it. "Not had your dinner yet? What nonsense! It's fearfully late." With this the Bara Rani took Bimal away with her. I could divine that there was some connection between the taking out of this six thousand and the robbing of the other. But I have no curiosity to learn the nature of it. I shall never ask. Providence leaves our life moulded in the rough--its object being that we ourselves should put the finishing touches, shaping it into its final form to our taste. There has always been the hankering within me to express some great idea in the process of giving shape to my life on the lines suggested by the Creator. In this endeavour I have spent all my days. How severely I have curbed my desires, repressed myself at every step, only the Searcher of the Heart knows. But the difficulty is, that one's life is not solely one's own. He who would create it must do so with the help of his surroundings, or he will fail. So it was my constant dream to draw Bimal to join me in this work of creating myself. I loved her with all my soul; on the strength of that, I could not but succeed in winning her to my purpose--that was my firm belief. Then I discovered that those who could simply and naturally draw their environment into the process of their self-creation belonged to one species of the genus "man",--and I to another. I had received the vital spark, but could not impart it. Those to whom I have surrendered my all have taken my all, but not myself with it. My trial is hard indeed. Just when I want a helpmate most, I am thrown back on myself alone. Nevertheless, I record my vow that even in this trial I shall win through. Alone, then, shall I tread my thorny path to the end of this life's journey ... I have begun to suspect that there has all along been a vein of tyranny in me. There was a despotism in my desire to mould my relations with Bimala in a hard, clear-cut, perfect form. But man's life was not meant to be cast in a mould. And if we try to shape the good, as so much mere material, it takes a terrible revenge by losing its life. I did not realize all this while that it must have been this unconscious tyranny of mine which made us gradually drift apart. Bimala's life, not finding its true level by reason of my pressure from above, has had to find an outlet by undermining its banks at the bottom. She has had to steal this six thousand rupees because she could not be open with me, because she felt that, in certain things, I despotically differed from her. Men, such as I, possessed with one idea, are indeed at one with those who can manage to agree with us; but those who do not, can only get on with us by cheating us. It is our unyielding obstinacy, which drives even the simplest to tortuous ways. In trying to manufacture a helpmate, we spoil a wife. Could I not go back to the beginning? Then, indeed, I should follow the path of the simple. I should not try to fetter my life's companion with my ideas, but play the joyous pipes of my love and say: "Do you love me? Then may you grow true to yourself in the light of your love. Let my suggestions be suppressed, let God's design, which is in you, triumph, and my ideas retire abashed." But can even Nature's nursing heal the open wound, into which our accumulated differences have broken out? The covering veil, beneath the privacy of which Nature's silent forces alone can work, has been torn asunder. Wounds must be bandaged--can we not bandage our wound with our love, so that the day may come when its scar will no longer be visible? It is not too late? So much time has been lost in misunderstanding; it has taken right up to now to come to an understanding; how much more time will it take for the correcting? What if the wound does eventually heal?--can the devastation it has wrought ever be made good? There was a slight sound near the door. As I turned over I saw Bimala's retreating figure through the open doorway. She must have been waiting by the door, hesitating whether to come in or not, and at last have decided to go back. I jumped up and bounded to the door, calling: "Bimal." She stopped on her way. She had her back to me. I went and took her by the hand and led her into our room. She threw herself face downwards on a pillow, and sobbed and sobbed. I said nothing, but held her hand as I sat by her head. When her storm of grief had abated she sat up. I tried to draw her to my breast, but she pushed my arms away and knelt at my feet, touching them repeatedly with her head, in obeisance. I hastily drew my feet back, but she clasped them in her arms, saying in a choking voice: "No, no, no, you must not take away your feet. Let me do my worship." I kept still. Who was I to stop her? Was I the god of her worship that I should have any qualms? Bimala's Story XXIII Come, come! Now is the time to set sail towards that great confluence, where the river of love meets the sea of worship. In that pure blue all the weight of its muddiness sinks and disappears. I now fear nothing--neither myself, nor anybody else. I have passed through fire. What was inflammable has been burnt to ashes; what is left is deathless. I have dedicated myself to the feet of him, who has received all my sin into the depths of his own pain. Tonight we go to Calcutta. My inward troubles have so long prevented my looking after my things. Now let me arrange and pack them. After a while I found my husband had come in and was taking a hand in the packing. "This won't do," I said. "Did you not promise me you would have a sleep?" "I might have made the promise," he replied, "but my sleep did not, and it was nowhere to be found." "No, no," I repeated, "this will never do. Lie down for a while, at least." "But how can you get through all this alone?" "Of course I can." "Well, you may boast of being able to do without me. But frankly I can't do without you. Even sleep refused to come to me, alone, in that room." Then he set to work again. But there was an interruption, in the shape of a servant, who came and said that Sandip Babu had called and had asked to be announced. I did not dare to ask whom he wanted. The light of the sky seemed suddenly to be shut down, like the leaves of a sensitive plant. "Come, Bimal," said my husband. "Let us go and hear what Sandip has to tell us. Since he has come back again, after taking his leave, he must have something special to say." I went, simply because it would have been still more embarrassing to stay. Sandip was staring at a picture on the wall. As we entered he said: "You must be wondering why the fellow has returned. But you know the ghost is never laid till all the rites are complete." With these words he brought out of his pocket something tied in his handkerchief, and laying it on the table, undid the knot. It was those sovereigns. "Don't you mistake me, Nikhil," he said. "You must not imagine that the contagion of your company has suddenly turned me honest; I am not the man to come back in slobbering repentance to return ill-gotten money. But..." He left his speech unfinished. After a pause he turned towards Nikhil, but said to me: "After all these days, Queen Bee, the ghost of compunction has found an entry into my hitherto untroubled conscience. As I have to wrestle with it every night, after my first sleep is over, I cannot call it a phantom of my imagination. There is no escape even for me till its debt is paid. Into the hands of that spirit, therefore, let me make restitution. Goddess! From you, alone, of all the world, I shall not be able to take away anything. I shall not be rid of you till I am destitute. Take these back!" He took out at the same time the jewel-casket from under his tunic and put it down, and then left us with hasty steps. "Listen to me, Sandip," my husband called after him. "I have not the time, Nikhil," said Sandip as he paused near the door. "The Mussulmans, I am told, have taken me for an invaluable gem, and are conspiring to loot me and hide me away in their graveyard. But I feel that it is necessary that I should live. I have just twenty-five minutes to catch the North-bound train. So, for the present, I must be gone. We shall have our talk out at the next convenient opportunity. If you take my advice, don't you delay in getting away either. I salute you, Queen Bee, Queen of the bleeding hearts, Queen of desolation!" Sandip then left almost at a run. I stood stock-still; I had never realized in such a manner before, how trivial, how paltry, this gold and these jewels were. Only a short while ago I was so busy thinking what I should take with me, and how I should pack it. Now I felt that there was no need to take anything at all. To set out and go forth was the important thing. My husband left his seat and came up and took me by the hand. "It is getting late," he said. "There is not much time left to complete our preparations for the journey." At this point Chandranath Babu suddenly came in. Finding us both together, he fell back for a moment. Then he said, "Forgive me, my little mother, if I intrude. Nikhil, the Mussulmans are out of hand. They are looting Harish Kundu's treasury. That does not so much matter. But what is intolerable is the violence that is being done to the women of their house." "I am off," said my husband. "What can you do there?" I pleaded, as I held him by the hand. "Oh, sir," I appealed to his master. "Will you not tell him not to go?" "My little mother," he replied, "there is no time to do anything else." "Don't be alarmed, Bimal," said my husband, as he left us. When I went to the window I saw my husband galloping away on horseback, with not a weapon in his hands. In another minute the Bara Rani came running in. "What have you done, Chotie darling," she cried. "How could you let him go?" "Call the Dewan at once," she said, turning to a servant. The Ranis never appeared before the Dewan, but the Bara Rani had no thought that day for appearances. "Send a mounted man to bring back the Maharaja at once," she said, as soon as the Dewan came up. "We have all entreated him to stay, Rani Mother," said the Dewan, "but he refused to turn back." "Send word to him that the Bara Rani is ill, that she is on her death-bed," cried my sister-in-law wildly. When the Dewan had left she turned on me with a furious outburst. "Oh, you witch, you ogress, you could not die yourself, but needs must send him to his death! ..." The light of the day began to fade. The sun set behind the feathery foliage of the blossoming __Sajna__ tree. I can see every different shade of that sunset even today. Two masses of cloud on either side of the sinking orb made it look like a great bird with fiery-feathered wings outspread. It seemed to me that this fateful day was taking its flight, to cross the ocean of night. It became darker and darker. Like the flames of a distant village on fire, leaping up every now and then above the horizon, a distant din swelled up in recurring waves into the darkness. The bells of the evening worship rang out from our temple. I knew the Bara Rani was sitting there, with palms joined in silent prayer. But I could not move a step from the window. The roads, the village beyond, and the still more distant fringe of trees, grew more and more vague. The lake in our grounds looked up into the sky with a dull lustre, like a blind man's eye. On the left the tower seemed to be craning its neck to catch sight of something that was happening. The sounds of night take on all manner of disguises. A twig snaps, and one thinks that somebody is running for his life. A door slams, and one feels it to be the sudden heart-thump of a startled world. Lights would suddenly flicker under the shade of the distant trees, and then go out again. Horses' hoofs would clatter, now and again, only to turn out to be riders leaving the palace gates. I continually had the feeling that, if only I could die, all this turmoil would come to an end. So long as I was alive my sins would remain rampant, scattering destruction on every side. I remembered the pistol in my box. But my feet refused to leave the window in quest of it. Was I not awaiting my fate? The gong of the watch solemnly struck ten. A little later, groups of lights appeared in the distance and a great crowd wound its way, like some great serpent, along the roads in the darkness, towards the palace gates. The Dewan rushed to the gate at the sound. Just then a rider came galloping in. "What's the news, Jata?" asked the Dewan. "Not good," was the reply. I could hear these words distinctly from my window. But something was next whispered which I could not catch. Then came a palanquin, followed by a litter. The doctor was walking alongside the palanquin. "What do you think, doctor?" asked the Dewan. "Can't say yet," the doctor replied. "The wound in the head is a serious one." "And Amulya Babu?" "He has a bullet through the heart. He is done for." The Home and the World by Rabindranath Tagore. Translated [from Bengali to English] by Surendranath Tagore. 
7965	----	Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. Editorial comment: Part 1 of THE MAHABHARATA OF KRISHNA-DWAIPAYANA VYASA can be found in the Project Gutenberg EBook#7864. This E-text was prepared by John B. Hare, David King, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. Scanned at sacred-texts.com, 2003. Redaction at Distributed Proofing, Juliet Sutherland, Project Manager. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare. This text is in the public domain. These files may be used for any non-commercial purpose, provided this notice of attribution is left intact. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 2 SABHA PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] SECTION I (Sabhakriya Parva) Om! After having bowed down to Narayana, and Nara, the most exalted male being, and also to the goddess Saraswati, must the word Jaya be uttered. Vaisampayana said,--"Then, in the presence of Vasudeva, Maya Danava, having worshipped Arjuna, repeatedly spoke unto him with joined hands and in amiable words,--'O son of Kunti, saved have I been by thee from this Krishna in spate and from Pavaka (fire) desirous of consuming me. Tell me what I have to do for thee.' "Arjuna said,--'O great Asura, everything hath already been done by thee (even by this offer of thine). Blest be thou. Go whithersoever thou likest. Be kind and well-disposed towards me, as we are even kind to and well-pleased with thee!' "Maya said,--'O bull amongst men, what thou hast said is worthy of thee, O exalted one. But O Bharata, I desire to do something for thee cheerfully. I am a great artist, a Viswakarma among the Danavas. O son of Pandu, being what I am, I desire to do something for thee.' "Arjuna said,--'O sinless one, thou regardest thyself as saved (by me) from imminent death. Even if it hath been so, I cannot make thee do anything for me. At the same time, O Danava, I do not wish to frustrate thy intentions. Do thou something for Krishna. That will be a sufficient requital for my services to thee.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Then, O bull of the Bharata race, urged by Maya, Vasudeva reflected for a moment as to what he should ask Maya to accomplish. Krishna, the Lord of the universe and the Creator of every object, having reflected in his mind, thus commanded Maya,--'Let a palatial sabha (meeting hall) as thou choosest, be built (by thee), if thou, O son of Diti, who art the foremost of all artists, desirest to do good to Yudhishthira the just. Indeed, build thou such a palace that persons belonging to the world of men may not be able to imitate it even after examining it with care, while seated within. And, O Maya, build thou a mansion in which we may behold a combination of godly, asuric and human designs.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Having heard those words, Maya became exceedingly glad. And he forthwith built a magnificent palace for the son of Pandu like unto the palace of the celestials themselves. Then Krishna and Partha (Arjuna) after having narrated everything unto king Yudhishthira the just, introduced Maya unto him. Yudhishthira received Maya with respect, offering him the honour he deserved. And, O Bharata, Maya accepted that honour thinking highly of it. O monarch of the Bharata race, that great son of Diti then recited unto the sons of Pandu the history of the Danava Vrisha-parva, and that foremost of artists then, having rested awhile, set himself after much thoughtful planning to build a palace for the illustrious sons of Pandu. Agreeably to the wishes of both Krishna and the sons of Pritha, the illustrious Danava of great prowess, having performed on an auspicious day the initial propitiatory rites of foundation and having also gratified thousands of well-versed Brahmanas with sweetened milk and rice and with rich presents of various kinds, measured out a plot of land five thousand cubits square, which was delightful and exceedingly handsome to behold and which was favourable for construction of a building well-suited to the exigencies of every season." SECTION II Vaisampayana said,--"Janardana deserving the worship of all, having lived happily at Khandavaprastha for some time, and having been treated all the while with respectful love and affection by the sons of Pritha, became desirous one day of leaving Khandavaprastha to behold his father. That possessor of large eyes, unto whom was due the obeisance of the universe, then saluted both Yudhishthira and Pritha and made obeisance with his head unto the feet of Kunti, his father's sister. Thus revered by Kesava, Pritha smelt his head and embraced him. The illustrious Hrishikesa approached his own sister Subhadra affectionately, with his eyes filled with tears, and spoke unto her words of excellent import and truth, terse proper, unanswerable and fraught with good. The sweet-speeched Subhadra also, saluting him in return and worshipping him repeatedly with bent head, told him all that she wished to be conveyed to her relatives on the paternal side. And bidding her farewell and uttering benedictions on his handsome sister, he of the Vrishni race, next saw Draupadi and Dhaumya. That best of men duly made obeisance unto Dhaumya, and consoling Draupadi obtained leave from her. Then the learned and mighty Krishna, accompanied by Partha, went to his cousins. And surrounded by the five brothers, Krishna shone like Sakra in the midst of the celestials. He whose banner bore the figure of Garuda, desirous of performing the rites preparatory to the commencement of a journey, purified himself by a bath and adorned his person with ornaments. The bull of the Yadu race then worshipped the gods and Brahmanas with floral wreaths, mantras, bows of the head, and excellent perfumes. Having finished all these rites, that foremost of steady and virtuous persons then thought of setting out. The chief of the Yadu race then came out of the inner to the outer apartment, and issuing thence he made unto Brahmanas, deserving of worship, offerings of vessel-fulls of curd and fruits, and parched-grain and caused them to pronounce benedictions upon him. And making unto them presents also of wealth, he went round them. Then ascending his excellent car of gold endued with great speed and adorned with banner bearing the figure of Tarkhya (Garuda) and furnished also with mace, discus, sword, his bow Sharnga and other weapons, and yoking thereunto his horses Saivya and Sugriva, he of eyes like lotuses set out at an excellent moment of a lunar day of auspicious stellar conjunction. And Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, from affection, ascended the chariot after Krishna, and causing that best charioteer Daruka to stand aside, himself took the reins. And Arjuna also, of long arms, riding on that car, walked round Krishna and fanned him with a white chamara furnished with a handle of gold. And the mighty Bhimasena accompanied by the twin brothers Nakula and Sahadeva and the priests and citizens all followed Krishna from behind. And Kesava, that slayer of hostile heroes, followed by all the brothers, shone like a preceptor followed by his favourite pupils. Then Govinda spoke unto Arjuna and clasped him firmly, and worshipping Yudhisthira and Bhima, embraced the twins. And embraced in return by the three elder Pandavas, he was reverentially saluted by the twins. After having gone about half a Yojana (two miles), Krishna, that subjugator of hostile towns, respectfully addressed Yudhishthira and requested him, O Bharata, to stop following him further. And Govinda, conversant with every duty, then reverentially saluted Yudhishthira and took hold of his feet. But Yudhishthira soon raised Kesava and smelt his head. King Yudhishthira the just, the son of Pandu, having raised Krishna endued with eyes like lotus-petals and the foremost of the Yadava race, gave him leave, saying,--'Good bye!' Then the slayer of Madhu, making an appointment with them (about his return) in words that were proper, and preventing with difficulty the Pandavas from following him further on foot, gladly proceeded towards his own city, like Indra going towards Amravati. Out of the love and affection they bore him, the Pandavas gazed on Krishna as long as he was within sight, and their minds also followed him when he got out of sight. And Kesava of agreeable person soon disappeared from their sight, unsatiated though their minds were with looking at him. Those bulls among men, the sons of Pritha, with minds fixed on Govinda, desisted (from following him further) and unwillingly returned to their own city in haste. And Krishna in his car soon reached Dwaraka followed by that hero Satyaki. Then Sauri, the son of Devaki, accompanied by his charioteer Daruka reached Dwaraka with the speed of Garuda." Vaisampayana continued,--"Meanwhile king Yudhishthira of unfading glory, accompanied by his brothers and surrounded by friends, entered his excellent capital. And that tiger among men, dismissing all his relatives, brothers, and sons, sought to make himself happy in the company of Draupadi. And Kesava also, worshipped by the principal Yadavas including Ugrasena, entered with a happy heart his own excellent city. And worshipping his old father and his illustrious mother, and saluting (his brother) Valadeva, he of eyes like lotus-petals took his seat. Embracing Pradyumna, Shamva, Nishatha, Charudeshna, Gada, Aniruddha and Bhanu, and obtaining the leave of all the elderly men, Janardana entered the apartments of Rukmini." SECTION III Vaisampayana said,--"Then Maya Danava addressed Arjuna, that foremost of successful warriors, saying,--'I now go with thy leave, but shall come back soon. On the north of the Kailasa peak near the mountains of Mainaka, while the Danavas were engaged in a sacrifice on the banks of Vindu lake, I gathered a huge quantity of delightful and variegated vanda (a kind of rough materials) composed of jewels and gems. This was placed in the mansion of Vrishaparva ever devoted to truth. If it be yet existing, I shall come back, O Bharata, with it. I shall then commence the construction of the delightful palace of the Pandavas, which is to be adorned with every kind of gems and celebrated all over the world. There is also, I think, O thou of the Kuru race, a fierce club placed in the lake Vindu by the King (of the Danavas) after slaughtering therewith all his foes in battle. Besides being heavy and strong and variegated with golden knobs, it is capable of bearing great weight, and of slaying all foes, and is equal in strength unto an hundred thousand clubs. It is a fit weapon for Bhima, even as the Gandiva is for thee. There is also (in that lake) a large conch-shell called Devadatta of loud sound, that came from Varuna. I shall no doubt give all these to thee.' Having spoken thus unto Partha, the Asura went away in a north-easterly direction. On the north of Kailasa in the mountains of Mainaka, there is a huge peak of gems and jewels called Hiranya-sringa. Near that peak is a delightful lake of the name of Vindu. There, on its banks, previously dwelt king Bhagiratha for many years, desiring to behold the goddess Ganga, since called Bhagirathee after that king's name. And there, on its banks, O thou best of the Bharatas, Indra the illustrious lord of every created thing, performed one hundred great sacrifices. There, for the sake of beauty, though not according to the dictates of the ordinance, were placed sacrificial stakes made of gems and altars of gold. There, after performing those sacrifices, the thousand-eyed lord of Sachi became crowned with success. There the fierce Mahadeva, the eternal lord of every creature, has taken up his abode after having created all the worlds and there he dwelleth, worshipped with reverence by thousands of spirits. There Nara and Narayana, Brahma and Yama and Sthanu the fifth, perform their sacrifices at the expiration of a thousand yugas. There, for the establishment of virtue and religion, Vasudeva, with pious devotion, performed his sacrifices extending for many, many long years. There were placed by Keshava thousands and tens of thousands of sacrificial stakes adorned with golden garlands and altars of great splendour. Going thither, O Bharata, Maya brought back the club and the conch-shell and the various crystalline articles that had belonged to king Vrishaparva. And the great Asura, Maya, having gone thither, possessed himself of the whole of the great wealth which was guarded by Yakshas and Rakshasas. Bringing them, the Asura constructed therewith a peerless palace, which was of great beauty and of celestial make, composed entirely of gems and precious stones, and celebrated throughout the three worlds. He gave unto Bhimasena that best of clubs, and unto Arjuna the most excellent conch-shell at whose sound all creatures trembled in awe. And the palace that Maya built consisted of columns of gold, and occupied, O monarch, an area of five thousand cubits. The palace, possessing an exceedingly beautiful form, like unto that of Agni or Suryya, or Soma, shone in great splendour, and by its brilliance seemed to darken even the bright rays of the sun. And with the effulgence it exhibited, which was a mixture of both celestial and terrestrial light, it looked as if it was on fire. Like unto a mass of new clouds conspicuous in the sky, the palace rose up coming into view of all. Indeed, the palace that the dexterous Maya built was so wide, delightful, and refreshing, and composed of such excellent materials, and furnished with such golden walls and archways, and adorned with so many varied pictures, and was withal so rich and well-built, that in beauty it far surpassed Sudharma of the Dasarha race, or the mansion of Brahma himself. And eight thousand Rakshasas called Kinkaras, fierce, huge-bodied and endued with great strength, of red coppery eyes and arrowy ears, well-armed and capable of ranging through the air, used to guard and protect that palace. Within that palace Maya placed a peerless tank, and in that tank were lotuses with leaves of dark-coloured gems and stalks of bright jewels, and other flowers also of golden leaves. And aquatic fowls of various species sported on its bosom. Itself variegated with full-blown lotuses and stocked with fishes and tortoises of golden hue, its bottom was without mud and its water transparent. There was a flight of crystal stairs leading from the banks to the edge of the water. The gentle breezes that swept along its bosom softly shook the flowers that studded it. The banks of that tank were overlaid with slabs of costly marble set with pearls. And beholding that tank thus adorned all around with jewels and precious stones, many kings that came there mistook it for land and fell into it with eyes open. Many tall trees of various kinds were planted all around the palace. Of green foliage and cool shade, and ever blossoming, they were all very charming to behold. Artificial woods were laid around, always emitting a delicious fragrance. And there were many tanks also that were adorned with swans and Karandavas and Chakravakas (Brahminy ducks) in the grounds lying about the mansion. And the breeze bearing the fragrance of lotuses growing in water and (of those growing on land) ministered unto the pleasure and happiness of the Pandavas. And Maya having constructed such a palatial hall within fourteen months, reported its completion unto Yudhishthira." SECTION IV Vaisampayana said,--"Then that chief of men, king Yudhishthira, entered that palatial sabha having first fed ten thousand Brahmanas with preparations of milk and rice mixed with clarified butter and honey with fruits and roots, and with pork and venison. The king gratified those superior Brahmanas, who had come from various countries with food seasoned with seasamum and prepared with vegetables called jibanti, with rice mixed with clarified butter, with different preparations of meat--with indeed various kinds of other food, as also numberless viands that are fit to be sucked and innumerable kinds of drinks, with new and unused robes and clothes, and with excellent floral wreaths. The king also gave unto each of those Brahmanas a thousand kine. And, O Bharata, the voice of the gratified Brahmanas uttering,--'What an auspicious day is this!' became so loud that it seemed to reach heaven itself. And when the Kuru king entered the palatial sabha having also worshipped the gods with various kinds of music and numerous species of excellent and costly perfumes, the athletes and mimes and prize-fighters and bards and encomiasts began to gratify that illustrious son of Dharma by exhibiting their skill. And thus celebrating his entry into the palace, Yudhishthira with his brothers sported within that palace like Sakra himself in heaven. Upon the seats in that palace sat, along with the Pandavas, Rishis and kings that came from various countries, viz., Asita and Devala, Satya, Sarpamali and Mahasira; Arvavasu, Sumitra, Maitreya, Sunaka and Vali; Vaka, Dalvya, Sthulasira, Krishna-Dwaipayana, and Suka Sumanta, Jaimini, Paila, and the disciples of Vyasa, viz., ourselves; Tittiri, Yajanavalkya, and Lomaharshana with his son; Apsuhomya, Dhaumya, Animandavya; and Kausika; Damoshnisha and Traivali, Parnada, and Varayanuka, Maunjayana, Vayubhaksha, Parasarya, and Sarika; Valivaka, Silivaka, Satyapala, and Krita-srama; Jatukarna, and Sikhavat. Alamva and Parijataka; the exalted Parvata, and the great Muni Markandeya; Pavitrapani, Savarna, Bhaluki, and Galava. Janghabandhu, Raibhya, Kopavega, and Bhrigu: Harivabhru, Kaundinya, Vabhrumali, and Sanatana, Kakshivat, and Ashija, Nachiketa, and Aushija, Nachiketa, and Gautama; Painga, Varaha, Sunaka, and Sandilya of great ascetic merit: Kukkura, Venujangha, Kalapa and Katha;--these virtuous and learned Munis with senses and souls under complete control, and many others as numerous, all well-skilled in the Vedas and Vedangas and conversant with (rules of) morality and pure and spotless in behaviour, waited on the illustrious Yudhishthira, and gladdened him by their sacred discourses. And so also numerous principal Kshatriyas, such as the illustrious and virtuous Mujaketu, Vivarddhana, Sangramjit, Durmukha, the powerful Ugrasena; Kakshasena, the lord of the Earth, Kshemaka the invincible; Kamatha, the king of Kamvoja, and the mighty Kampana who alone made the Yavanas to ever tremble at his name just as the god that wieldeth the thunder-bolt maketh those Asuras, the Kalakeyas, tremble before him; Jatasura, and the king of the Madrakas, Kunti, Pulinda the king of the Kiratas, and the kings of Anga and Vanga, and Pandrya, and the king of Udhara, and Andhaka; Sumitra, and Saivya that slayer of foes; Sumanas, the king of the Kiratas, and Chanur the King of the Yavanas, Devarata, Bhoja, and the so called Bhimaratha, Srutayudha--the king of Kalinga, Jayasena the king of Magadha; and Sukarman, and Chekitana, and Puru that slayer of foes; Ketumata, Vasudana, and Vaideha and Kritakshana: Sudharman, Aniruddha, Srutayu endued with great strength; the invincible Anuparaja, the handsome Karmajit; Sisupala with his son, the king of Karusha; and the invincible youths of the Vrishni race, all equal in beauty unto the celestials, viz., Ahuka, Viprithu, Sada, Sarana, Akrura, Kritavarman, and Satyaka, the son of Sini; and Bhismaka, Ankriti, and the powerful Dyumatsena, those chief of bowmen viz., the Kaikeyas and Yajnasena of the Somaka race; these Kshatriyas endued with great might, all well-armed and wealthy, and many others also regarded as the foremost, all waited upon Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, in that Sabha, desirous of ministering to his happiness. And those princes also, endued with great strength, who dressing themselves in deer-skins learnt the science of weapons under Arjuna, waited upon Yudhishthira. And O king, the princes also of the Vrishni race, viz., Pradyumna (the son of Rukmini) and Samva, and Yuyudhana the son of Satyaki and Sudharman and Aniruddha and Saivya that foremost of men who had learnt the science of arms under Arjuna these and many other kings, O lord of the Earth, used to wait on Yudhishthira on that occasion. And that friend of Dhananjaya, Tumvuru, and the Gandharva Chittasena with his ministers, any many other Gandharvas and Apsaras, well-skilled in vocal and instrumental music and in cadence and Kinnaras also well-versed in (musical) measures and motions singing celestial tunes in proper and charming voices, waited upon and gladdened the sons of Pandu and the Rishis who sat in that Sabha. And seated in that Sabha, those bull among men, of rigid vows and devoted to truth, all waited upon Yudhishthira like the celestials in heaven waiting upon Brahma." SECTION V (Lokapala Sabhakhayana Parva) Vaisampayana said,--"While the illustrious Pandavas were seated in that Sabha along with the principal Gandharvas, there came, O Bharata, unto that assembly the celestial Rishi Narada, conversant with the Vedas and Upanishadas, worshipped by the celestials acquainted with histories and Puranas, well-versed in all that occurred in ancient kalpas (cycles), conversant with Nyaya (logic) and the truth of moral science, possessing a complete knowledge of the six Angas (viz., pronunciation, grammar, prosody, explanation of basic terms, description of religious rites, and astronomy). He was a perfect master in reconciling contradictory texts and differentiating in applying general principles to particular cases, as also in interpreting contraries by reference to differences in situation, eloquent, resolute, intelligent, possessed of powerful memory. He was acquainted with the science of morals and politics, learned, proficient in distinguishing inferior things from superior ones, skilled in drawing inference from evidence, competent to judge of the correctness or incorrectness of syllogistic statements consisting of five propositions. He was capable of answering successively Vrihaspati himself while arguing, with definite conclusions properly framed about religion, wealth, pleasure and salvation, of great soul and beholding this whole universe, above, below, and around, as if it were present before his eyes. He was master of both the Sankhya and Yoga systems of philosophy, ever desirous of humbling the celestials and Asuras by fomenting quarrels among them, conversant with the sciences of war and treaty, proficient in drawing conclusions by judging of things not within direct ken, as also in the six sciences of treaty, war, military campaigns, maintenance of posts against the enemy and stratagems by ambuscades and reserves. He was a thorough master of every branch of learning, fond of war and music, incapable of being repulsed by any science or any course of action, and possessed of these and numberless other accomplishments. The Rishi, having wandered over the different worlds, came into that Sabha. And the celestial Rishi of immeasurable splendour, endued with great energy was accompanied, O monarch, by Parijata and the intelligent Raivata and Saumya and Sumukha. Possessing the speed of the mind, the Rishi came thither and was filled with gladness upon beholding the Pandavas. The Brahmana, on arriving there, paid homage unto Yudhishthira by uttering blessings on him and wishing him victory. Beholding the learned Rishi arrive, the eldest of the Pandavas, conversant with all rules of duty, quickly stood up with his younger brothers. Bending low with humility, the monarch cheerfully saluted the Rishi, and gave with due ceremonies a befitting seat unto him. The king also gave him kine and the usual offerings of the Arghya including honey and the other ingredients. Conversant with every duty the monarch also worshipped the Rishi with gems and jewels with a whole heart. Receiving that worship from Yudhishthira in proper form, the Rishi became gratified. Thus worshipped by the Pandavas and the great Rishis, Narada possessing a complete mastery over the Vedas, said unto Yudhishthira the following words bearing upon religion, wealth, pleasures and salvation. "Narada said--'Is the wealth thou art earning being spent on proper objects? Doth thy mind take pleasure in virtue? Art thou enjoying the pleasures of life? Doth not thy mind sink under their weight? O chief of men, continuest thou in the noble conduct consistent with religion and wealth practised by thy ancestors towards the three classes of subjects, (viz., good, indifferent, and bad)? Never injurest thou religion for the sake of wealth, or both religion and wealth for the sake of pleasure that easily seduces? O thou foremost of victorious men ever devoted to the good of all, conversant as thou art with the timeliness of everything, followest thou religion, wealth, pleasure and salvation dividing thy time judiciously? O sinless one, with the six attributes of kings (viz., cleverness of speech, readiness in providing means, intelligence in dealing with the foe, memory, and acquaintance with morals and politics), dost thou attend to the seven means (viz., sowing dissensions, chastisement, conciliation, gifts, incantations, medicine and magic)? Examinest thou also, after a survey of thy own strength and weakness, the fourteen possessions of thy foes? These are the country, forts, cars, elephants, cavalry, foot-soldiers, the principal officials of state, the zenana, food supply, computations of the army and income, the religious treatises in force, the accounts of state, the revenue, wine-shops and other secret enemies. Attendest thou to the eight occupations (of agriculture, trade, &c), having examined, O thou foremost of victorious monarchs, thy own and thy enemy's means, and having made peace with thy enemies? O bull of the Bharata race, thy seven principal officers of state (viz., the governor of the citadel, the commander of forces, the chief judge, the general in interior command, the chief priest, the chief physician, and the chief astrologer), have not, I hope, succumbed to the influence of thy foes, nor have they, I hope, become idle in consequence of the wealth they have earned? They are, I hope, all obedient to thee. Thy counsels, I hope, are never divulged by thy trusted spies in disguise, by thyself or by thy ministers? Thou ascertainest, I hope, what thy friends, foes and strangers are about? Makest thou peace and makest thou war at proper times? Observest thou neutrality towards strangers and persons that are neutral towards thee? And, O hero, hast thou made persons like thyself, persons that are old, continent in behaviour, capable of understanding what should be done and what should not, pure as regards birth and blood, and devoted to thee, thy ministers? O Bharata, the victories of kings can be attributed to good counsels. O child, is thy kingdom protected by ministers learned in Sastras, keeping their counsels close? Are thy foes unable to injure it? Thou hast not become the slave of sleep? Wakest thou at the proper time? Conversant with pursuits yielding profit, thinkest thou, during the small hours of night, as to what thou shouldst do and what thou shouldst not do the next day? Thou settlest nothing alone, nor takest counsels with many? The counsels thou hast resolved upon, do not become known all over thy kingdom? Commencest thou soon to accomplish measures of great utility that are easy of accomplishment? Such measures are never obstructed? Keepest thou the agriculturists not out of thy sight? They do not fear to approach thee? Achievest thou thy measures through persons that are trusted incorruptible, and possessed of practical experience? And, O brave king, I hope, people only know the measures already accomplished by thee and those that have been partially accomplished and are awaiting completion, but not those that are only in contemplation and uncommenced? Have experienced teachers capable of explaining the causes of things and learned in the science of morals and every branch of learning, been appointed to instruct the princes and the chiefs of the army? Buyest thou a single learned man by giving in exchange a thousand ignorant individuals? The man that is learned conferreth the greatest benefit in seasons of distress. Are thy forts always filled with treasure, food, weapons, water, engines and instruments, as also with engineers and bowmen? Even a single minister that is intelligent, brave, with his passions under complete control, and possessed of wisdom and judgment, is capable of conferring the highest prosperity on a king or a king's son. I ask thee, therefore, whether there is even one such minister with thee? Seekest thou to know everything about the eighteen Tirthas of the foe and fifteen of thy own by means of three and three spies all unacquainted with one another? O slayer of all foes, watchest thou all thy enemies with care and attention, and unknown to them? Is the priest thou honourest, possessed of humility, and purity of blood, and renown, and without jealousy and illiberality? Hath any well-behaved, intelligent, and guileless Brahmana, well-up in the ordinance, been employed by thee in the performance of thy daily rites before the sacred fire, and doth he remind thee in proper time as to when thy homa should be performed? Is the astrologer thou hast employed skilled in reading physiognomy, capable of interpreting omens, and competent to neutralise the effect of the disturbances of nature? Have respectable servants been employed by thee in offices that are respectable, indifferent ones in indifferent offices, and low ones in offices that are low? Hast thou appointed to high offices ministers that are guileless and of well conduct for generations and above the common run? Oppressest thou not thy people with cruel and severe punishment? And, O bull of the Bharata race, do thy ministers rule thy kingdom under thy orders? Do thy ministers ever slight thee like sacrificial priests slighting men that are fallen (and incapable of performing any more sacrifices) or like wives slighting husbands that are proud and incontinent in their behaviour? Is the commander of thy forces possessed of sufficient confidence, brave, intelligent, patient, well-conducted, of good birth, devoted to thee, and competent? Treatest thou with consideration and regard the chief officers of thy army that are skilled in every kind of welfare, are forward, well-behaved, and endued with prowess? Givest thou to thy troops their sanctioned rations and pay in the appointed time? Thou dost not oppress them by withholding these? Knowest thou that the misery caused by arrears of pay and irregularity in the distribution of rations driveth the troops to mutiny, and that is called by the learned to be one of the greatest of mischiefs? Are all the principal high-born men devoted to thee, and ready with cheerfulness to lay down their lives in battle for thy sake? I hope no single individual of passions uncontrolled is ever permitted by thee to rule as he likes a number of concerns at the same time appertaining to the army? Is any servant of thine, who hath accomplished well a particular business by the employment of special ability, disappointed in obtaining from thee a little more regard, and an increase of food and pay? I hope thou rewardest persons of learning and humility, and skill in every kind of knowledge with gifts of wealth and honour proportionate to their qualifications. Dost thou support, O bull in the Bharata race, the wives and children of men that have given their lives for thee and have been distressed on thy account? Cherishest thou, O son of Pritha, with paternal affection the foe that hath been weakened, or him also that hath sought thy shelter, having been vanquished in battle? O lord of Earth, art thou equal unto all men, and can every one approach thee without fear, as if thou wert their mother and father? And O bull of the Bharata race, marchest thou, without loss of time, and reflecting well upon three kinds of forces, against thy foe when thou hearest that he is in distress? O subjugator of all foes beginnest thou thy march when the time cometh, having taken into consideration all the omens you might see, the resolutions thou hast made, and that the ultimate victory depends upon the twelve mandalas (such as reserves, ambuscades, &c, and payment of pay to the troops in advance)? And, O persecutor of all foes, givest thou gems and jewels, unto the principal officers of enemy, as they deserve, without thy enemy's knowledge? O son of Pritha, seekest thou to conquer thy incensed foes that are slaves to their passions, having first conquered thy own soul and obtained the mastery over thy own senses? Before thou marchest out against thy foes, dost thou properly employ the four arts of reconciliation, gift (of wealth) producing disunion, and application of force? O monarch, goest thou out against thy enemies, having first strengthened thy own kingdom? And having gone out against them, exertest thou to the utmost to obtain victory over them? And having conquered them, seekest thou to protect them with care? Are thy army consisting of four kinds of forces, viz., the regular troops, the allies, the mercenaries, and the irregulars, each furnished with the eight ingredients, viz., cars, elephants, horses, offices, infantry, camp-followers, spies possessing a thorough knowledge of the country, and ensigns led out against thy enemies after having been well trained by superior officers? O oppressor of all foes, O great king, I hope thou slayest thy foes without regarding their seasons of reaping and of famine? O king, I hope thy servants and agents in thy own kingdom and in the kingdoms of thy foes continue to look after their respective duties and to protect one another. O monarch, I hope trusted servants have been employed by thee to look after thy food, the robes thou wearest and the perfumes thou usest. I hope, O king, thy treasury, barns, stables arsenals, and women's apartments, are all protected by servants devoted to thee and ever seeking thy welfare. I hope, O monarch, thou protectest first thyself from thy domestic and public servants, then from those servants of thy relatives and from one another. Do thy servants, O king, ever speak to thee in the forenoon regarding thy extravagant expenditure in respect of thy drinks, sports, and women? Is thy expenditure always covered by a fourth, a third or a half of thy income? Cherishest thou always, with food and wealth, relatives, superiors, merchants, the aged, and other proteges, and the distressed? Do the accountants and clerks employed by thee in looking after thy income and expenditure, always appraise thee every day in the forenoon of thy income and expenditure? Dismissest thou without fault servants accomplished in business and popular and devoted to thy welfare? O Bharata, dost thou employ superior, indifferent, and low men, after examining them well in offices they deserve? O monarch, employest thou in thy business persons that are thievish or open to temptation, or hostile, or minors? Persecutest thou thy kingdom by the help of thievish or covetous men, or minors, or women? Are the agriculturists in thy kingdom contented. Are large tanks and lakes constructed all over thy kingdom at proper distances, without agriculture being in thy realm entirely dependent on the showers of heaven? Are the agriculturists in thy kingdom wanting in either seed or food? Grantest thou with kindness loans (of seed-grains) unto the tillers, taking only a fourth in excess of every measure by the hundred? O child, are the four professions of agriculture, trade, cattle-rearing, and lending at interest, carried on by honest men? Upon these O monarch, depends the happiness of thy people. O king, do the five brave and wise men, employed in the five offices of protecting the city, the citadel, the merchants, and the agriculturists, and punishing the criminals, always benefit thy kingdom by working in union with one another? For the protection of thy city, have the villages been made like towns, and the hamlets and outskirts of villages like villages? Are all these entirely under thy supervision and sway? Are thieves and robbers that sack thy town pursued by thy police over the even and uneven parts of thy kingdom? Consolest thou women and are they protected in thy realm? I hope thou placest not any confidence in them, nor divulgest any secret before any of them? O monarch, having heard of any danger and having reflected on it also, liest thou in the inner apartments enjoying every agreeable object? Having slept during the second and the third divisions of the night, thinkest thou of religion and profit in the fourth division wakefully. O son of Pandu, rising from bed at the proper time and dressing thyself well, showest thou thyself to thy people, accompanied by ministers conversant with the auspiciousness or otherwise of moments? O represser of all foes, do men dressed in red and armed with swords and adorned with ornaments stand by thy side to protect thy person? O monarch! behavest thou like the god of justice himself unto those that deserve punishment and those that deserve worship, unto those that are dear to thee and those that thou likest not? O son of Pritha, seekest thou to cure bodily diseases by medicines and fasts, and mental illness with the advice of the aged? I hope that the physicians engaged in looking after thy health are well conversant with the eight kinds of treatment and are all attached and devoted to thee. Happeneth it ever, O monarch, that from covetousness or folly or pride thou failest to decide between the plaintiff and the defendant who have come to thee? Deprivest thou, through covetousness or folly, of their pensions the proteges who have sought thy shelter from trustfulness or love? Do the people that inhabit thy realm, bought by thy foes, ever seek to raise disputes with thee, uniting themselves with one another? Are those amongst thy foes that are feeble always repressed by the help of troops that are strong, by the help of both counsels and troops? Are all the principal chieftains (of thy empire) all devoted to thee? Are they ready to lay down their lives for thy sake, commanded by thee? Dost thou worship Brahmanas and wise men according to their merits in respect of various branches of learning? I tell thee, such worship is without doubt, highly beneficial to thee. Hast thou faith in the religion based on the three Vedas and practised by men who have gone before thee? Dost thou carefully follow the practices that were followed by them? Are accomplished Brahmanas entertained in thy house and in thy presence with nutritive and excellent food, and do they also obtain pecuniary gifts at the conclusion of those feasts? Dost thou, with passions under complete control and with singleness of mind, strive to perform the sacrifices called Vajapeya and Pundarika with their full complement of rites? Bowest thou unto thy relatives and superiors, the aged, the gods, the ascetics, the Brahmanas, and the tall trees (banian) in villages, that are of so much benefit to people? O sinless one, causest thou ever grief or anger in any one? Do priests capable of granting thee auspicious fruits ever stand by thy side? O sinless one, are thy inclinations and practices such as I have described them, and as always enhance the duration of life and spread one's renown and as always help the cause of religion, pleasure, and profit? He who conducteth himself according to this way, never findeth his kingdom distressed or afflicted; and that monarch, subjugating the whole earth, enjoyeth a high degree of felicity. O monarch, I hope, no well-behaved, pure-souled, and respected person is ever ruined and his life taken, on a false charge or theft, by thy ministers ignorant of Sastras and acting from greed? And, O bull among men, I hope thy ministers never from covetousness set free a real thief, knowing him to be such and having apprehended him with the booty about him? O Bharata, I hope, thy ministers are never won over by bribes, nor do they wrongly decide the disputes that arise between the rich and the poor. Dost thou keep thyself free from the fourteen vices of kings, viz., atheism, untruthfulness, anger, incautiousness, procrastination, non-visit to the wise, idleness, restlessness of mind, taking counsels with only one man, consultation with persons unacquainted with the science of profit, abandonment of a settled plan, divulgence of counsels, non-accomplishment of beneficial projects, and undertaking everything without reflection? By these, O king, even monarchs firmly seated on their thrones are ruined. Hath thy study of the Vedas, thy wealth and knowledge of the Sastras and marriage been fruitful?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"After the Rishi had finished, Yudhishthira asked,--'How, O Rishi, do the Vedas, wealth, wife, and knowledge of the Sastras bear fruit?' "The Rishi answered,--'The Vedas are said to bear fruit when he that hath studied them performeth the Agnihotra and other sacrifices. Wealth is said to bear fruit when he that hath it enjoyeth it himself and giveth it away in charity. A wife is said to bear fruit when she is useful and when she beareth children. Knowledge of the Sastras is said to bear fruit when it resulteth in humility and good behaviour.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The great ascetic Narada, having answered Yudhishthira thus, again asked that just ruler,--'Do the officers of thy government, O king, that are paid from the taxes levied on the community, take only their just dues from the merchants that come to thy territories from distant lands impelled by the desire of gain? Are the merchants, O king, treated with consideration in thy capital and kingdom, capable of bringing their goods thither without being deceived by the false pretexts of (both the buyers and the officers of government)? "'Listenest thou always, O monarch, to the words, fraught with instructions in religion and wealth, of old men acquainted with economic doctrines? Are gifts of honey and clarified butter made to the Brahmanas intended for the increase of agricultural produce, of kine, of fruits and flowers, and for the sake of virtue? Givest thou always, O king, regularly unto all the artisans and artists employed by thee the materials of their works and their wages for periods not more than four months? Examinest thou the works executed by those that are employed by thee, and applaudest thou them before good men, and rewardest thou them, having shewn them proper respect? O bull of the Bharata race, followest thou the aphorisms (of the sage) in respect of every concern particularly those relating to elephants, horses, and cars? O bull of the Bharata race, are the aphorisms relating to the science of arms, as also those that relate to the practice of engines in warfare--so useful to towns and fortified places, studied in thy court? O sinless one, art thou acquainted with all mysterious incantations, and with the secrets of poisons destructive of all foes? Protectest thou thy kingdom from the fear of fire, of snakes and other animals destructive of life, of disease, and Rakshasas? As acquainted thou art with every duty, cherishest thou like a father, the blind, the dumb, the lame, the deformed, the friendless, and ascetics that have no homes. Hast thou banished these six evils, O monarch, viz., sleep, idleness, fear, anger, weakness of mind, and procrastination?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The illustrious bull among the Kurus, having heard these words of that best of Brahmanas, bowed down unto him and worshipped his feet. And gratified with everything he heard, the monarch said unto Narada of celestial form,--'I shall do all that thou hast directed, for my knowledge hath expanded under thy advice!' Having said this the king acted conformably to that advice, and gained in time the whole Earth bounded by her belt of seas. Narada again spoke, saying,--'That king who is thus employed in the protection of four orders, Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Sudras, passeth his days here happily and attaineth hereafter to the region of Sakra (heaven).'" SECTION VI Vaisampayana said,--"At the conclusion of Narada's words, king Yudhishthira the just worshipped him duly; and commanded by him the monarch began to reply succinctly to the questions the Rishi had asked. "Yudhishthira said--'O holy one, the truths of religion and morality thou hast indicated one after another, are just and proper. As regards myself, I duly observe those ordinances to the best of my power. Indeed, the acts that were properly performed by monarchs of yore are, without doubt, to be regarded as bearing proper fruit, and undertaken from solid reasons for the attainment of proper objects. O master, we desire to walk in the virtuous path of those rulers that had, besides, their souls under complete control.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, possessed of great glory, having received with reverence the words of Narada and having also answered the Rishi thus, reflected for a moment. And perceiving a proper opportunity, the monarch, seated beside the Rishi, asked Narada sitting at his ease and capable of going into every world at will, in the presence of that assembly of kings, saying,--'Possessed of the speed of mind, thou wanderest over various and many worlds created in days of yore by Brahma, beholding everything. Tell me, I ask thee, if thou hast, O Brahmana, ever beheld before anywhere an assembly room like this of mine or superior to it!' Hearing these words of Yudhishthira the just, Narada smilingly answered the son of Pandu in these sweet accents,-- "Narada said,--'O child, O king I did neither see nor hear of ever before amongst men, any assembly room built of gems and precious stones like this of thine, O Bharata. I shall, however, describe unto thee the rooms of the king of the departed (Yama), of Varuna (Neptune) of great intelligence, of Indra, the King of Gods and also of him who hath his home in Kailasha (Kuvera). I shall also describe unto thee the celestial Sabha of Brahma that dispelleth every kind of uneasiness. All these assembly rooms exhibit in their structure both celestial and human designs and present every kind of form that exists in the universe. And they are ever worshipped by the gods and the Pitris, the Sadhyas, (under-deities called Gana), by ascetics offering sacrifices, with souls under complete command, by peaceful Munis engaged without intermission in Vedic sacrifices with presents to Brahmanas. I shall describe all these to you if, O bull of the Bharata race, thou hast any inclinations to listen to me!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thus addressed by Narada, the high-souled king Yudhishthira the just, with his brothers and all those foremost of Brahmanas (seated around him), joined his hands (in entreaty). And the monarch then asked Narada, saying,--'Describe unto us all those assembly rooms. We desire to listen to thee. O Brahmana, what are the articles with which each of the Sabhas are made of? What is the area of each, and what is the length and breadth of each? Who wait upon the Grandsire in that assembly room? And who also upon Vasava, the Lord of the celestials and upon Yama, the son of Vivaswana? Who wait upon Varuna and upon Kuvera in their respective assembly rooms. O Brahmana Rishi, tell us all about these. We all together desire to hear thee describe them. Indeed, our curiosity is great.'" Thus addressed by the son of Pandu, Narada replied, saying,--"O monarch, hear ye all about those celestial assembly rooms one after another." SECTION VII "Narada said,--'the celestial assembly room of Sakra is full of lustre. He hath obtained it as the fruit of his own acts. Possessed of the splendour of the sun, it was built, O scion of the Kuru race, by Sakra himself. Capable of going everywhere at will, this celestial assembly house is full one hundred and fifty yojanas in length, and hundred yojanas in breadth, and five yojanas in height. Dispelling weakness of age, grief, fatigue, and fear, auspicious and bestowing good fortune, furnished with rooms and seats and adorned with celestial trees, it is delightful in the extreme. There sitteth in that assembly room, O son of Pritha, on an excellent seat, the Lord of celestials, with his wife Sachi endowed with beauty and affluence. Assuming a form incapable of description for its vagueness, with a crown on his head and bright bracelets on the upper arms, attired in robes of pure white and decked with floral wreaths of many hues, there he sitteth with beauty, fame, and glory by his side. And the illustrious deity of a hundred sacrifices is daily waited upon, O monarch, in that assembly by the Marutas in a body, each leading the life of a householder in the bosom of his family. And the Siddhyas, celestial Rishis, the Sadhyas in all, the gods, and Marutas of brilliant complexion and adorned with golden garlands,--all of them in celestial form and decked in ornaments, always wait upon and worship the illustrious chief of the immortals, that mighty represser of all foes. And O son of Pritha, the celestial Rishis also, all of pure souls, with sins completely washed off and resplendent as the fire, and possessed of energy, and without sorrow of any kind, and freed from the fever of anxiety, and all performers of the Soma sacrifice, also wait upon and worship Indra. And Parasara and Parvata and Savarni and Galava; and Sankha, and the Muni, Gaursiras, and Durvasa, and Krodhana and Swena and the Muni Dhirghatamas; and Pavitrapani, Savarni, Yajnavalkya and Bhaluki; and Udyalaka, Swetaketu, and Tandya, and also Bhandayani; and Havishmat, and Garishta, and king Harischandra; and Hridya, Udarshandilya. Parasarya, Krishivala; Vataskandha, Visakha, Vidhatas and Kala. Karaladanta, Tastri, and Vishwakarman, and Tumuru; and other Rishis, some born of women and others living upon air, and others again living upon fire, these all worship Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt, the lord of all the worlds. And Sahadeva, and Sunitha, and Valmiki of great ascetic merit; and Samika of truthful speech, and Prachetas ever fulfilling their promises, and Medhatithi, and Vamadeva, and Pulastya, Pulaha and Kratu; and Maruta and Marichi, and Sthanu of great ascetic merit; and Kakshivat, and Gautama, and Tarkhya, and also the Muni Vaishwanara; and the Muni Kalakavrikhiya and Asravya, and also Hiranmaya, and Samvartta, and Dehavya, and Viswaksena of great energy; and Kanwa, and Katyayana, O king, and Gargya, and Kaushika;--all are present there along with the celestial waters and plants; and faith, and intelligence, and the goddess of learning, and wealth, religion, and pleasure; and lightning, O son of Pandu; and the rain-charged clouds, and the winds, and all the loud-sounding forces of heaven; the eastern point, the twenty seven fires conveying the sacrificial butter, Agni and Soma, and the fire of Indra, and Mitra, and Savitri, and Aryaman; Bhaga, Viswa the Sadhyas, the preceptor (Vrihaspati), and also Sukra; and Vishwavasu and Chitrasena, and Sumanas, and also Taruna; the Sacrifices, the gifts to Brahmanas, the planets, and the stars, O Bharata, and the mantras that are uttered in sacrifices--all these are present there. And, O King, many Apsaras and Gandharvas, by various kinds of dances and music both instrumental and vocal, and by the practice of auspicious rites, and by the exhibition of many feats of skill, gratify the lord of the celestials--Satakratu--the illustrious slayer of Vala and Vritra. Besides these, many other Brahmanas and royal and celestial Rishis, all resplendent as the fire, decked in floral wreaths and ornaments, frequently come to and leave that assembly, riding on celestial cars of various kinds. And Vrihaspati and Sukra are present there on all occasions. These and many other illustrious ascetics of rigid vows, and Bhrigu and the seven Rishis who are equal, O king, unto Brahma himself, come to and leave that assembly house, riding on cars beautiful as the car of Soma, and themselves looking as bright therein as Soma himself. This, O mighty armed monarch, is the assembly house, called Pushkaramalini, of Indra of a hundred sacrifices that I have seen. Listen now to the account of Yama's assembly house.' SECTION VIII "Narada said,--'O Yudhisthira, I shall now describe the assembly house of Yama, the son of Vivaswat, which, O son of Pritha, was built by Viswakarma. Listen now to me. Bright as burnished gold, that assembly house, O monarch, covers an area of much more than a hundred yojanas. Possessed of the splendour of the sun, it yieldeth everything that one may desire. Neither very cool nor very hot, it delighteth the heart. In that assembly house there is neither grief nor weakness of age, neither hunger nor thirst. Nothing disagreeable findeth a place there, nor any kind of evil feelings there. Every object of desire, celestial or human, is to be found in that mansion. And all kinds of enjoyable articles, as also of sweet, juicy, agreeable, and delicious edibles in profusion that are licked, sucked, and drunk, are there, O chastiser of all enemies. The floral wreaths in that mansion are of the most delicious fragrance, and the trees that stand around it yield fruits that are desired of them. There are both cold and hot waters and these are sweet and agreeable. In that mansion many royal sages of great sanctity and Brahmana sages also of great purity, cheerfully wait upon, O child, and worship Yama, the son of Vivaswat. And Yayati, Nahusha, Puru, Mandhatri, Somaka, Nriga; the royal sage Trasadasyu, Kritavirya, Sautasravas; Arishtanemi, Siddha, Kritavega, Kriti, Nimi, Pratarddana, Sivi, Matsya, Prithulaksha, Vrihadratha, Vartta, Marutta, Kusika, Sankasya, Sankriti, Dhruva, Chaturaswa, Sadaswormi and king Kartavirya; Bharata and Suratha, Sunitha, Nisatha, Nala, Divodasa, and Sumanas, Amvarisha, Bhagiratha; Vyaswa, Vadhraswa, Prithuvega, Prithusravas, Prishadaswa, Vasumanas, Kshupa, and Sumahavala, Vrishadgu, and Vrishasena, Purukutsa, Dhwajin and Rathin; Arshtisena, Dwilipa, and the high-souled Ushinara; Ausinari, Pundarika, Saryati, Sarava, and Suchi; Anga, Rishta, Vena, Dushmanta, Srinjaya and Jaya; Bhangasuri, Sunitha, and Nishada, and Bahinara; Karandhama, Valhika, Sudymna, and the mighty Madhu; Aila and the mighty king of earth Maruta; Kapota, Trinaka, and Shadeva, and Arjuna also. Vysawa; Saswa and Krishaswa, and king Sasavindu; Rama the son of Dasaratha, and Lakshmana, and Pratarddana; Alarka, and Kakshasena, Gaya, and Gauraswa; Rama the son of Jamadagnya, Nabhaga, and Sagara; Bhuridyumna and Mahaswa, Prithaswa, and also Janaka; king Vainya, Varisena, Purujit, and Janamejaya; Brahmadatta, and Trigarta, and king Uparichara also; Indradyumna, Bhimajanu, Gauraprishta, Nala, Gaya; Padma and Machukunda, Bhuridyumna, Prasenajit; Aristanemi, Sudymna, Prithulauswa, and Ashtaka also; a hundred kings of the Matsya race and hundred of the Vipa and a hundred of the Haya races; a hundred kings of the name of Dhritarashtra, eighty kings of the name of Janamejaya; a hundred monarchs called Brahmadatta, and a hundred kings of the name of Iri; more than two hundred Bhishmas, and also a hundred Bhimas; a hundred Prativindhyas, a hundred Nagas, and a hundred Palasas, and a hundred called Kasa and Kusa; that king of kings Santanu, and thy father Pandu, Usangava, Sata-ratha, Devaraja, Jayadratha; the intelligent royal sage Vrishadarva with his ministers; and a thousand other kings known by the name of Sasa-vindu, and who have died, having performed many grand horse-sacrifices with large presents to the Brahmanas--these holy royal sages of grand achievements and great knowledge of the Sastras, wait upon, O King, and worship the son of Vivaswat in that assembly house. And Agastya and Matanga, and Kala, and Mrityu (Death), performers of sacrifices, the Siddhas, and many Yogins; the Prtris (belonging to the classes--called Agniswattas, Fenapa, Ushampa, Swadhavat, and Verhishada), as also those others that have forms; the wheel of time, and the illustrious conveyer himself of the sacrificial butter; all sinners among human beings, as also those that have died during the winter solstice; these officers of Yama who have been appointed to count the allotted days of everybody and everything; the Singsapa, Palasa, Kasa, and Kusa trees and plants, in their embodied forms, these all, O king, wait upon and worship the god of justice in that assembly house of his. These and many others are present at the Sabha of the king of the Pitris (manes). So numerous are they that I am incapable of describing them either by mentioning their names or deeds. O son of Pritha, the delightful assembly house, moving everywhere at the will of its owner, is of wide extent. It was built by Viswakarma after a long course of ascetic penances. And, O Bharata, resplendent with his own effulgence, it stands glorified in all its beauty. Sannyasis of severe ascetic penance, of excellent vows, and of truthful speech, peaceful and pure and sanctified by holy deeds, of shining bodies and attired in spotless robes, decked with bracelets and floral garlands, with ear-rings of burnished gold, and adorned with their own holy acts as with the marks of their order (painted over their bodies), constantly visit that Sabha (Assembly). Many illustrious Gandharvas, and many Apsaras fill every part of that mansion with music; both instrumental and vocal and with sounds of laughter and dance. And, O son of Pritha, excellent perfumes, and sweet sounds and garlands of celestial flowers always contribute towards making that mansion supremely blest. And hundreds of thousands of virtuous persons, of celestial beauty and great wisdom, always wait upon and worship the illustrious Yama, the lord of created beings in that assembly house. Such, O monarch, is the Sabha, of the illustrious king of the Pitris! I shall now describe unto the assembly house of Varuna also called Pushkaramalini!' SECTION IX "Narada said--'O Yudhishthira, the celestial Sabha of Varuna is unparalleled in splendour. In dimensions it is similar to that of Yama. Its walls and arches are all of pure white. It hath been built by Viswakarma (the celestial architect) within the waters. It is surrounded on all sides by many celestial trees made of gems and jewels and yielding excellent fruits and flowers. And many plants with their weight of blossoms, blue and yellow, and black and darkish, and white and red, that stand there, or excellent bowers around. Within those bowers hundreds and thousands of birds of diverse species, beautiful and variegated, always pour forth their melodies. The atmosphere of that mansion is extremely delightful, neither cold nor hot. Owned by Varuna, that delightful assembly house of pure white consists of many rooms and is furnished with many seats. There sitteth Varuna attired in celestial robe, decked in celestial ornaments and jewels, with his queen, adorned with celestial scents and besmeared with paste of celestial fragrance. The Adityas wait upon and worship the illustrious Varuna, the lord of the waters. And Vasuki and Takshaka, and the Naga called Airavana; Krishna and Lohita; Padma and Chitra endued with great energy; the Nagas called Kamvala and Aswatara; and Dhritarashtra and Valahaka; Matimat and Kundadhara and Karkotaka and Dhananjaya; Panimat and the mighty Kundaka, O lord of the Earth; and Prahlada and Mushikada, and Janamejaya,--all having auspicious marks and mandalas and extended hoods;--these and many other snakes, O Yudhishthira, without anxiety of any kind, wait upon and worship the illustrious Varuna. And, O king, Vali the son of Virochana, and Naraka the subjugator of the whole Earth; Sanghraha and Viprachitti, and those Danavas called Kalakanja; and Suhanu and Durmukha and Sankha and Sumanas and also Sumati; and Ghatodara, and Mahaparswa, and Karthana and also Pithara and Viswarupa, Swarupa and Virupa, Mahasiras; and Dasagriva, Vali, and Meghavasas and Dasavara; Tittiva, and Vitabhuta, and Sanghrada, and Indratapana--these Daityas and Danavas, all bedecked with ear-rings and floral wreaths and crowns, and attired in the celestial robes, all blessed with boons and possessed of great bravery, and enjoying immortality, and all well of conduct and of excellent vows, wait upon and worship in that mansion the illustrious Varuna, the deity bearing the noose as his weapon. And, O king, there are also the four oceans, the river Bhagirathee, the Kalindi, the Vidisa, the Venwa, the Narmada of rapid current; the Vipasa, the Satadu, the Chandrabhaga, the Saraswati; the Iravati, the Vitasta, the Sindhu, the Devanadi; the Godavari, the Krishnavenwa and that queen of rivers the Kaveri; the Kimpuna, the Visalya and the river Vaitarani also; the Tritiya, the Jeshthila, and the great Sone (Soane); the Charmanwati and the great river Parnasa; the Sarayu, the Varavatya, and that queen of rivers the Langali, the Karatoya, the Atreyi, the red Mahanada, the Laghanti, the Gomati, the Sandhya, and also the Trisrotasi--these and other rivers which are all sacred and are world-renowned places of pilgrimage, as also other rivers and sacred waters and lakes and wells and springs, and tanks, large or small, in their personified form, O Bharata, wait upon and worship the lord Varuna. The points of the heavens, the Earth, and all the Mountains, as also every species of aquatic animals, all worship Varuna there. And various tribes of Gandharvas and Apsaras, devoted to music, both vocal and instrumental, wait upon Varuna, singing eulogistic hymns unto him. And all those mountains that are noted for being both delightful and rich in jewels, wait (in their personified forms) in that Sabha, enjoying sweet converse with one another. And the chief minister of Varuna, Sunabha by name, surrounded by his sons and grandsons, also attend upon his master, along with (the personified form) of a sacred water called go. These all, in their personified forms, worship the deity. O bull of the Bharata race, such is the assembly room of Varuna seen by me before, in the course of my wanderings. Listen now to the account I give of the assembly room of Kuvera.' SECTION X "Narada said,--'Possessed of great splendour, the assembly house of Vaisravana, O king, is a hundred yojanas in length and seventy yojanas in breadth. It was built, O king, by Vaisravana himself using his ascetic power. Possessing the splendour of the peaks of Kailasa, that mansion eclipses by its own the brilliance of the Moon himself. Supported by Guhyakas, that mansion seems to be attached to the firmament. Of celestial make, it is rendered extremely handsome with high chambers of gold. Extremely delightful and rendered fragrant with celestial perfumes, it is variegated with numberless costly jewels. Resembling the peaks of a mass of white clouds, it seems to be floating in the air. Painted with colours of celestial gold, it seems to be decked with streaks of lightning. Within that mansion sitteth on an excellent seat bright as the sun and covered with celestial carpets and furnished with a handsome footstool, king Vaisravana of agreeable person, attired in excellent robes and adorned with costly ornaments and ear-rings of great brilliance, surrounded by his thousand wives. Delicious and cooling breezes murmuring through forests of tall Mandaras, and bearing fragrance of extensive plantations of jasmine, as also of the lotuses on the bosom of the river Alaka and of the Nandana-gardens, always minister to the pleasure of the King of the Yakshas. There the deities with the Gandharvas surrounded by various tribes of Apsaras, sing in chorus, O king, notes of celestial sweetness. Misrakesi and Rambha, and Chitrasena, and Suchismita; and Charunetra, and Gritachi and Menaka, and Punjikasthala; and Viswachi Sahajanya, and Pramlocha and Urvasi and Ira, and Varga and Sauraveyi, and Samichi, and Vududa, and Lata--these and a thousand other Apsaras and Gandharvas, all well-skilled in music and dance, attend upon Kuvera, the lord of treasures. And that mansion, always filled with the notes of instrumental and vocal music, as also with the sounds of dance of various tribes of Gandharvas, and Apsaras hath become extremely charming and delicious. The Gandharvas called Kinnaras, and others called Naras, and Manibhadra, and Dhanada, and Swetabhadra and Guhyaka; Kaseraka, Gandakandu, and the mighty Pradyota; Kustumvuru, Pisacha, Gajakarna, and Visalaka, Varaha-Karna, Tamraushtica, Falkaksha, and Falodaka; Hansachuda, Sikhavarta, Vibhishana, Pushpanana, Pingalaka, Sonitoda and Pravalaka; Vrikshavaspa-niketa, and Chiravasas--these O Bharata, and many other Yakshas by hundred and thousands always wait upon Kuvera. The goddess Lakshmi always stayeth there, also Kuvera's son Nalakuvera. Myself and many others like myself often repair thither. Many Brahmana Rishis and celestial Rishis also repair there often. Many Rakshasas, and many Gandharvas, besides those that have been named, wait upon the worship, in that mansion, the illustrious lord of all treasures. And, O tiger among kings, the illustrious husband of Uma and lord of created things, the three-eyed Mahadeva, the wielder of the trident and the slayer of the Asura called Bhaga-netra, the mighty god of the fierce bow, surrounded by multitudes of spirits in their hundreds and thousands, some of dwarfish stature, some of fierce visage, some hunch-backed, some of blood-red eyes, some of frightful yells, some feeding upon fat and flesh, and some terrible to behold, but all armed with various weapons and endued with the speed of wind, with the goddess (Parvati) ever cheerful and knowing no fatigue, always waiteth here upon their friend Kuvera, the lord of treasures. And hundreds of Gandharva chiefs, with cheerful hearts and attired in their respective robes and Viswavasu, and Haha and Huhu; and Tumvuru and Parvatta, and Sailusha; and Chitrasena skilled in music and also Chitraratha,--these and innumerable Gandharvas worship the lord of treasures. And Chakradhaman, the chief of the Vidyadharas, with his followers, waiteth in that mansion upon the lord of treasures. And Kinnaras by hundreds and innumerable kings with Bhagadatta as their chief, and Druma, the chief of the Kimpurushas, and Mahendra, the chief of the Rakshasas, and Gandhamadana accompanied by many Yakshas and Gandharvas and many Rakshasas wait upon the lord of treasures. The virtuous Vibhishana also worshippeth there his elder brother the lord Kuvera (Croesus). The mountains of Himavat, Paripatra, Vindhya, Kailasa, Mandara, Malaya, Durdura, Mahendra, Gandhamadana, Indrakila, Sunava, and Eastern and the Western hills--these and many other mountains, in their personified forms, with Meru standing before all, wait upon and worship the illustrious lord of treasures. The illustrious Nandiswaras, and Mahakala, and many spirits with arrowy ears and sharp-pointed mouths, Kaksha, Kuthimukha, Danti, and Vijaya of great ascetic merit, and the mighty white bull of Siva roaring deep, all wait in that mansion. Besides these many other Rakshasas and Pisachas (devils) worship Kuvera in that assembly house. The son of Pulastya (Kuvera) formerly used always to worship in all the modes and sit, with permission obtained, beside the god of gods, Siva, the creator of the three worlds, that supreme Deity surrounded by his attendants. One day the exalted Bhava (Siva) made friendship with Kuvera. From that time, O king, Mahadeva always sitteth on the mansion of his friend, the lord of treasures. Those best of all jewels, those princes of all gems in the three worlds, viz., Sankha and Padma, in their personified forms, accompanied by all the jewels of the earth (also in their personified forms) worship Kuvera.' "'This delightful assembly house of Kuvera that I have seen, attached to the firmament and capable of moving along it, is such, O king. Listen now to the Sabha I describe unto thee, belonging to Brahma the Grandsire.' SECTION XI "Narada said,--'Listen to me, O child, as I tell thee of the assembly house of the Grandsire, that house which none can describe, saying it is such. In the Krita (golden) age of old, O king, the exalted deity Aditya (once) came down from heaven into the world of men. Having seen before the assembly-house of Brahma the Self-created, Aditya was cheerfully wandering over the Earth in human form, desirous of beholding what could be seen here. It was on that occasion, O son of Pandu, that the god of day spoke unto me, O bull of the Bharata race, of that celestial Sabha (assembly) of the Grandsire, immeasurable and immaterial and indescribable, as regards form and shape, and capable of delighting the heart of every creature by its splendour. Hearing, O bull of the Bharata race, of the merits of that Sabha, I became, O king, desirous of beholding it. I then asked Aditya, saying,--"O exalted one, I desire to behold the sacred Sabha of the Grandsire. O lord of light, tell me, O exalted one, by what ascetic penances, or by what acts, or by what charms or by what rites, I may be enabled to behold that excellent sin-cleaning Sabha."--Hearing these words of mine, Aditya the god of day, the deity of a thousand rays, answered me, "O chief of the Bharata race, thus: Observe thou, with mind rapt in meditation, the Brahma vow extending for a thousand years." Repairing then to the breast of the Himavat, I commenced that great vow, and after I had completed it the exalted and sinless deity Surya endued with great energy, and knowing no fatigue, took me with him to the Sabha of the Grandsire. O king, it is impossible to describe that Sabha, saying--it is such, for within a moment it assumes a different form that language fails to paint. O Bharata, it is impossible to indicate its dimensions or shape. I never saw anything like it before. Ever contributing to the happiness of those within it, its atmosphere is neither cold nor warm. Hunger and thirst or any kind of uneasiness disappear as soon as one goeth thither. It seems to be made up of brilliant gems of many kinds. It doth not seem to be supported on columns, it knoweth no deterioration, being eternal. That self effulgent mansion, by its numerous blazing, celestial indications of unrivalled splendour, seems to surpass the moon, the sun and the fire in splendour. Stationed in heaven, it blazes forth, censuring as it were the maker of the day. In that mansion O king, the Supreme Deity, the Grand-sire of all created things, having himself created everything by virtue of his creative illusion, stayeth ever. And Daksha, Prachetas, Pulaha, Marichi, the master Kasyapa, Bhrigu, Atri, and Vasistha and Gautama, and also Angiras, and Pulastya, Kraut, Prahlada, and Kardama, these Prajapatis, and Angirasa of the Atharvan Veda, the Valikhilyas, the Marichipas; Intelligence, Space, Knowledge, Air, Heat, Water, Earth, Sound, Touch, Form, Taste, Scent; Nature, and the Modes (of Nature), and the elemental and prime causes of the world,--all stay in that mansion beside the lord Brahma. And Agastya of great energy, and Markandeya, of great ascetic power, and Jamadagni and Bharadwaja, and Samvarta, and Chyavana, and exalted Durvasa, and the virtuous Rishyasringa, the illustrious Sanatkumara of great ascetic merit and the preceptor in all matters affecting Yoga; Asita and Devala, and Jaigishavya acquainted with truth; Rishava, Ajitasatru, and Mani of great energy; and the Science of healing with its eight branches--all in their personified forms, O Bharata; the moon with all the stars and the stellar conjunctions; Aditya with all his rays; the winds; the Sacrifices, the Declarations of purpose (in sacrifices), the Vital principles,--these illustrious and vow-observing beings in their personified forms, and many others too numerous to mention, attend all upon Brahma in that mansion. Wealth and Religion and Desire, and Joy, and Aversion, and Asceticism and Tranquillity--all wait together upon the Supreme Deity in that palace. The twenty tribes of the Gandharvas and Apsaras, as also their seven other tribes, and all the Lokapalas (chief protectors of several regions), and Sukra, and Vrihaspati, and Vudha, and Angaraka (Mangala), Sani, Rahu, and the other planets; the Mantras (of the Sama Veda), the special Mantras (of the same Veda); (the rites of) Harimat and Vasumat, the Adityas with Indra, the two Agnis mentioned by name (viz. Agnisoma and Indragni), the Marutas, Viswakarman, and the Vasus, O Bharata; the Pitris, and all kinds of sacrificial libations, the four Vedas. viz., Rig, Sama, Yajuh, and Atharva; all Sciences and branches of learning; Histories and all minor branches of learning; the several branches of the Vedas; the planets, the Sacrifices, the Soma, all the deities; Savitri (Gayatri), the seven kinds of rhyme; Understanding, Patience, Memory, Wisdom, Intelligence, Fame, Forgiveness; the Hymns of the Sama Veda; the Science of hymns in general, and various kinds of Verses and Songs; various Commentaries with arguments;--all in their personified forms, O king, and various Dramas and Poems and Stories and abridged Glosses--these also, and many others wait upon the Supreme Deity in that Sabha, Kshanas, Lavas, Muhurtas, Day, Night, Fortnights, Months, the six Seasons, O Bharata, Years, Yugas, the four kinds of Days and Nights (viz., appearing to man, to the Pitris, to the gods, and to Brahma) and that eternal, indestructible, undeteriorating, excellent Wheel of Time and also the Wheel of Virtue,--these always wait there, O Yudhishthira; and Aditi, Diti, Danu, Surasa, Vinata, Ira, Kalika, Suravi, Devi, Sarama, Gautami and the goddesses Pradha, and Kadru;--these mothers of the celestials, and Rudrani, Sree, Lakshmi, Bhadra, Shashthi, the Earth, Ganga, Hri, Swaha, Kriti, the goddess Sura, Sachi Pushti, Arundhati, Samvritti, Asa, Niyati, Srishti, Rati,--these and many other goddesses wait upon the Creator of all. The Adityas, Vasus, Rudras, Marutas, Aswinas, the Viswadevas Sadhyas, and the Pitris gifted with the speed of the mind; these all wait there upon the Grandsire. And, O bull amongst men, know thou that there are seven classes of Pitris, of which four classes have embodied forms and the remaining three without embodied forms. It is well known that the illustrious Vairajas and Agniswattas and Garhapattyas (three classes of Pitris) range in heaven. And those amongst the Pitris that are called the Somapas, the Ekasringras, the Chaturvedas, and the Kalas, are ever worshipped amongst the four orders of men. Gratified with the Soma (juice), first, these gratify Soma afterwards. All these tribes of Pitris wait upon the Lord of the creation and cheerfully worship the Supreme Deity of immeasurable energy. And Rakshasas, Pisachas, the Danavas and Guhyakas; Nagas, Birds, and various animals; and all mobile and immobile great beings;--all worship the Grandsire. And Purandara the chief of the celestials, and Varuna and Kuvera and Yama, and Mahadeva accompanied by Uma, always repair thither. And, O king of kings, Mahasena (Kartikeya) also adoreth there the Grandsire. Narayana himself, and the celestial Rishis, and those Rishis called Valakhillyas, and all beings born of females and all those not born of females, and whatever else is seen in the three worlds--both mobile and immobile, were all seen by me there, know O king. And eighty thousand Rishis with vital seed drawn up, and O Pandu, fifty thousand Rishis having sons, were all seen by me there. And all the dwellers in heaven repairing thither behold the Supreme Deity when they please, and worshipping him with a bow of their head return whence they came. And, O king of men, the Grandsire of all created beings, the Soul of the universe, the Self create Brahma of immeasurable intelligence and glory, equally kind unto all creatures, honoureth as they deserve, and gratifieth with sweet speech and gift of wealth and other enjoyable articles, the gods, the Daityas, the Nagas, the Brahmanas, the Yakshas, the Birds, the Kaleyas, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, and all other exalted beings that came to him as his guests. And that delicious Sabha, O child, is always crowded with persons coming and going. Filled with every kind of energy, and worshipped by Brahmarshis, that celestial Sabha blazes forth with the graceful possessions of Brahma and looks extremely handsome, O tiger among kings as this Sabha of yours is unrivalled in the world of men, so is that Sabha of Brahma, seen by me unrivalled in all the worlds. I have seen these Sabhas, O Bharata, in regions of the celestials. This thy Sabha is unquestionably the foremost in the world of men!' SECTION XII "Yudhishthira said,--'O thou foremost of eloquent men, as thou hast described the different Sabhas unto me, it appeareth that almost all the monarchs of the earth are to be found in the Sabha of Yama. And, O master, almost all the Nagas, and principal Daityas, and rivers, and oceans, are to be found in the Sabha of Varuna. And so the Yakshas, the Guhyakas, the Rakshasas, the Gandharvas and Apsaras and the Deity (Yama) having the bull for his vehicle, are to be found in the Sabha of the lord of treasures. Thou hast said that in the Sabha of the Grandsire are to be seen all the great Rishis, all the gods, all the branches of learning. As regards the Sabha of Sakra, however, thou hast named, O Muni, all the gods, the Gandharvas, and various Rishis. But, O great Muni, thou hast mentioned one and only one king, viz., the royal Rishi Harishchandra as living in the Sabha of the illustrious chief of the gods. What act was performed by that celebrated king, or what ascetic penances with steady vows, in consequence of which he hath been equal to Indra himself? O Brahmana, how didst thou also meet with my father, the exalted Pandu, now a guest in the region of the Pitris? O exalted one of excellent vows hath he told thee anything? O tell me all as I am exceedingly curious to hear all this from thee.' "Narada said,--'O king of kings, I shall tell thee all that thou askest me about Harischandra, I shall presently tell thee of his high excellence. He was a powerful king, in fact, an emperor over all the kings of the earth. Indeed, all the kings of the earth obeyed his sway. O monarch, mounted alone upon a victorious car adorned with gold, that king by the prowess of his weapons brought the whole earth with her seven islands under his sway. And, O monarch, having subjugated the whole earth with her mountains, forests, and woods, he made preparations for the great sacrifice called the Rajasuya. And all the kings of the earth brought at his command wealth unto that sacrifice. All of them consented to become distributors of food and gifts unto the Brahmanas that were fed on the occasion. At that sacrifice king Harishchandra gave away unto all who asked, wealth that was five times what each had solicited. At the conclusion of the sacrifice, the king gratified the Brahmanas that came from various countries with large presents of various kinds of wealth. The Brahmanas gratified with various kinds of food and enjoyable articles, given away unto them to the extent of their desires, and with the heaps of jewels distributed amongst them, began to say,--"King Harischandra is superior to all kings in energy and renown."--And know, O monarch, O bull of the Bharata race, it was for this reason that Harischandra shone more brightly than thousands of other kings. The powerful Harischandra having concluded his great sacrifice, became installed, O king, in the sovereignty of the earth and looked resplendent on his throne. O bull of the Bharata race, all those monarchs that perform the sacrifice of Rajasuya, (attaining to the region of Indra) pass their time in felicity in Indra's company. And, O bull of the Bharata race, those kings also that yield up their lives without turning their backs on the field of battle attain to the mansion of Indra and live in joy with him. Those again that yield up their bodies after severe ascetic penances also attain to the same region and shine brightly there for ages. O king of the Kuru race, O son of Kunti, thy father Pandu, beholding the good fortune of Harischandra and wondering much thereat, hath told thee something. Knowing that I was coming to the world of men, he bowed unto me and said,--"Thou shouldst tell Yudhishthira, O Rishi, that he can subjugate the whole Earth inasmuch as his brothers are all obedient to him. And having done this let him commence the grand sacrifice called Rajasuya. He is my son; if he performeth that sacrifice, I may, like Harischandra, soon attain to the region of Indra, and there in his Sabha pass countless years in continuous joy." I told him in reply,--"O King, I shall tell thy son all this, if I go to the world of man." I have now told thee what he said, O tiger among men. Accomplish then, O son of Pandu, the desires of thy father. If thou performest that sacrifice, thou shall then be able to go, along with thy deceased ancestors, into the same region that is inhabited by the chief of the immortals. It hath been said,--O king, that the performance of this great sacrifice is attended with many obstacles. A class of Rakshasas called Brahma Rakshasas, employed in obstructing all sacrifices, always search for loop-holes when this great sacrifice is commenced. On the commencement of such a sacrifice a war may take place destroying the Kshatriyas and even furnishing occasion for the destruction of the whole Earth. A slight obstacle may involve the whole Earth in ruin. Reflecting upon all this, O king of kings do what is for thy good. Be thou watchful and ready in protecting the four orders of thy subjects. Grow, thou in prosperity, and enjoy thou felicity. Gratify thou the Brahmanas with gifts of wealth. I have now answered in detail all that thou hast asked me. With thy leave I will now go to the city (Dwaravati) of that Dasarhas.'" Vaisampayana said,--"O Janamejaya, having said this unto the son of Pritha, Narada went away, accompanied by those Rishis with whom he had come. And after Narada had gone away, king Yudhishthira, O thou of the Kuru race, began to think, along with his brothers, of that foremost of sacrifices called Rajasuya." SECTION XIII Vaisampayana said,--"Yudhishthira, having heard these words of Narada, began to sigh heavily. And, O Bharata, engaged in his thoughts about the Rajasuya, the king had no peace of mind. Having heard of this glory of the illustrious monarchs (of old) and being certain about the acquisition of regions of felicity by performers of sacrifices in consequence of their sacred deeds, and thinking especially of that royal sage Harischandra who had performed the great sacrifice king Yudhishthira desired to make preparations for the Rajasuya sacrifice. Then worshipping his counsellors and others present at his Sabha, and worshipped by them in return, he began to discuss with them about that sacrifice. Having reflected much, that king of kings, that bull amongst the Kurus, inclined his mind towards making preparations for the Rajasuya. That prince of wonderful energy and prowess, however, reflecting upon virtue and righteousness, again set his heart to find out what would be for the good of all his people. For Yudhishthira, that foremost of all virtuous men, always kind unto his subjects, worked for the good of all without making any distinctions. Indeed, shaking off both anger and arrogance, Yudhishthira always said,--'Give unto each what is due to each,'--and the only sounds that he could hear were,--'Blessed be Dharma! Blessed be Dharma!' Yudhishthira conducting himself thus and giving paternal assurance to everybody, there was none in the kingdom who entertained any hostile feelings towards him. He therefore came to be called Ajatasatru (one with no enemy at all). The king cherished every one as belonging to his family, and Bhima ruled over all justly. Arjuna, used to employing both his hands with equal skill, protected the people from (external) enemies. And the wise Sahadeva administered justice impartially. And Nakula behaved towards all with humility that was natural to him. Owing to all this, the kingdom became free from disputes and fear of every kind. And all the people became attentive to their respective occupations. The rain became so abundant as to leave no room for desiring more; and the kingdom grew in prosperity. And in consequence of the virtues of the king, money-lenders, the articles required for sacrifices, cattle-rearing, tillage, and traders, all and everything grew in prosperity. Indeed, during the reign of Yudhishthira who was ever devoted to truth, there was no extortion, no stringent realisation of arrears of rent, no fear of disease, of fire, or of death by poisoning and incantations, in the kingdom. It was never heard at that time that thieves or cheats or royal favourites ever behaved wrongfully towards the king or towards one another amongst themselves. Kings conquered on the six occasions (of war, treaty, &c) were wont to wait upon him in order to do good unto the monarch and worship him ever, while the traders of different classes came to pay him the taxes leviable on their respective occupations. And accordingly during the reign of Yudhishthira who was ever devoted to virtue, his dominion grew in prosperity. Indeed, the prosperity of the kingdom was increased not by these alone but even by persons wedded to voluptuousness and indulging in all luxuries to their fill. And the king of kings, Yudhishthira, whose sway extended over all, was possessed of every accomplishment and bore everything with patience. And, O king, whatever countries the celebrated and illustrious monarch conquered, the people everywhere, from Brahmanas to swains, were all more attached to him than to their own fathers and mothers." Vaisampayana said,--"King Yudhishthira, then, that foremost of speakers, summoning together his counsellors and brothers, asked them repeatedly about the Rajasuya sacrifice. Those ministers in a body, thus asked by the wise Yudhishthira desirous of performing the sacrifice, then told him these words of grave import,--'One already in possession of a kingdom desireth all the attributes of an emperor by means of that sacrifice which aideth a king in acquiring the attributes of Varuna. O prince of Kuru race, thy friends think that as thou art worthy of the attributes of an emperor, the time is even come for thee for the performance of the Rajasuya sacrifice. The time for the performance of that sacrifice in which Rishis of austere vows kindle six fires with mantras of the Sama Veda, is come for thee in consequence of thy Kshatriya possessions. At the conclusion of the Rajasuya sacrifice when the performer is installed in the sovereignty of the empire, he is rewarded with the fruits of all sacrifices including the Agnihotra. It is for this that he is called the conqueror of all. Thou art quite able, O strong-armed one, to perform this sacrifice. All of us are obedient to thee. Soon will you be able, O great king, to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice. Therefore, O great king, let thy resolution be taken to perform this sacrifice without further discussion.' Thus spoke unto the king all his friends and counsellors separately and jointly. And, O king, Yudhishthira that slayer of all enemies, having heard these virtuous, bold, agreeable and weighty words of theirs, accepted them mentally. And having heard those words of his friends and counsellors, and knowing his own strength also, the king, O Bharata, repeatedly thought over the matter. After this the intelligent and virtuous Yudhishthira, wise in counsel, again consulted with his brothers, with the illustrious Ritwijas about him, with his ministers and with Dhaumya and Dwaipayana and others." "Yudhishthira said,--'How may this wish that I entertain of performing the excellent sacrifice of Rajasuya that is worthy of an emperor, bear fruit, in consequence of my faith and speech alone.'" Vaisampayana said,--"O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, thus asked by the king, they replied at that time unto Yudhishthira the just in these words,--'Being conversant with the dictates of morality, thou art, O king, worthy to perform the grand sacrifice of Rajasuya.' After the Ritwijas and the Rishis had told these words unto the king, his ministers and brothers highly approved of the speech. The king, however, possessed of great wisdom, and with mind under complete control, actuated by the desire of doing good unto the world, again resolved the matter in his mind, thinking of his own strength and means, the circumstances of time and place and his income and expenditure. For he knew that the wise never come to grief owing to their always acting after full deliberation. Thinking that the sacrifice should not be commenced, pursuant to his own resolution only, Yudhishthira, carefully bearing upon his shoulder the weight of affairs thought of Krishna that persecutor of all sinners as the fittest person to decide the matter, in as much as he knew him to be the foremost of all persons, possessed of immeasurable energy, strong-armed, without birth but born amongst men from Will alone. Reflecting upon his god-like feats the son of Pandu concluded that there was nothing that was unknown to him, nothing that he could not achieve, and nothing that he could not bear, and Yudhishthira, the son of Pritha, having come to this settled resolution soon sent a messenger unto that master of all beings, conveying through him blessings and speeches such as one senior in age might send to one that is younger. And that messenger riding in a swift car arrived amongst the Yadavas and approached Krishna who was then residing in Dwaravati. And Achyuta (Krishna) hearing that the son of Pritha had become desirous of seeing him, desired to see his cousin. And quickly passing over many regions, being drawn by his own swift horses, Krishna arrived at Indraprastha, accompanied by Indrasena. And having arrived at Indraprastha, Janardana approached Yudhisthira without loss of time. And Yudhisthira received Krishna with paternal-affection, and Bhima also received him likewise. And Janardana then went with a cheerful heart to his father's sister (Kunti). And worshipped then with reverence by the twins, he began to converse cheerfully with his friend Arjuna who was overjoyed at seeing him. And after he had rested awhile in a pleasant apartment and had been fully refreshed, Yudhishthira approached him at his leisure and informed him all about the Rajasuya sacrifice. "Yudhishthira said,--'I have wished to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice. That sacrifice, however, cannot be performed by one's wishing alone to perform it. Thou knowest, O Krishna, even thing about the means by which it may be accomplished. He alone can achieve this sacrifice in whom everything is possible, who is worshipped everywhere and who is the king of kings. My friends and counsellors approaching me have said that I should perform that sacrifice. But, O Krishna, in respect of that matter, thy words shall be my guide. Of counsellers some from friendship do not notice the difficulties; others from motives of self-interest say only what is agreeable. Some again regard that which is beneficial to themselves as worthy of adoption. Men are seen to counsel thus on matters awaiting decision. But thou, O Krishna, art above such motives. Thou hast conquered both desire and anger. It behoveth thee to tell me what is most beneficial to the world.' SECTION XIV (Rajasuyarambha Parva) "Krishna said,--'O great king, thou art a worthy possessor of all the qualities essential for the performance of the Rajasuya sacrifice. Thou knowest everything, O Bharata. I shall, however, still tell thee something. Those persons in the world that now go by the name of Kshatriyas are inferior (in everything) to those Kshatriyas that Rama, the son of Jamadagnya, exterminated. O lord of the earth, O bull of the Bharata race, thou knowest what form of rule these Kshatriyas, guided by the instructions traditionally handed down from generation to generation, have established amongst their own order, and how far they are competent to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice. The numerous royal lines and other ordinary Kshatriyas all represent themselves to be the descendants of Aila and Ikshwaku. The descendants of Aila, O king, as, indeed, the kings of Ikshwaku's race, are, know O bull of the Bharata race, each divided into a hundred separate dynasties. The descendants of Yayati and the Bhojas are great, both in extent (number) and accomplishments. O king, these last are to-day scattered all over the earth. And all the Kshatriyas worship the prosperity of those monarchs. At present, however, O monarch, king Jarasandha, overcoming that prosperity enjoyed by their whole order, and overpowering them by his energy hath set himself over the heads of all these kings. And Jarasandha, enjoying the sovereignty over the middle portion of the earth (Mathura), resolved to create a disunion amongst ourselves. O monarch, the king who is the lord paramount of all kings, and in whom alone the dominion of the universe is centered, properly deserves to be called an emperor. And, O monarch, king Sisupala endued with great energy, hath placed himself under his protection and hath become the generalissimo of his forces. And, O great king, the mighty Vaka, the king of the Karushas, capable of fighting by putting forth his powers of illusion, waiteth, upon Jarasandha, as his disciple. There are two others, Hansa and Dimvaka, of great energy and great soul, who have sought the shelter of the mighty Jarasandha. There are others also viz., Dantavakra, Karusha, Karava, Meghavahana, that wait upon Jarasandha. He also that beareth on his head that gem which is known as the most wonderful on earth, that king of the Yavanas, who hath chastised Muru and Naraka, whose power is unlimited, and who ruleth the west like another Varuna, who is called Bhagadatta, and who is the old friend of thy father, hath bowed his head before Jarasandha, by speech and specially by act. In his heart, however, tied as he is by affection to thee, he regardeth thee as a father regardeth his child. O king, that lord of the earth who hath his dominions on the west and the south, who is thy maternal uncle and who is called Purujit, that brave perpetuator of the Kunti race, that slayer of all foes, is the single king that regardeth thee from affection. He whom I did not formerly slay, that wicked wretch amongst the Chedis, who represented himself in this world as a divine personage and who hath become known also as such, and who always beareth, from foolishness, the signs that distinguish me that king of Vanga Pundra and the Kiratas, endowed with great strength, and who is known on earth by the names of Paundraka and Vasudeva hath also espoused the side of Jarasandha. And, O king of kings, Bhishmaka, the mighty king of the Bhojas--the friend of Indra--the slayer of hostile heroes--who governs a fourth part of the world, who by his learning conquered the Pandyas and the Kratha-Kausikas, whose brother the brave Akriti was like Rama, the son of Jamdagni, hath become a servitor to the king of Magadha. We are his relatives and are, therefore, engaged everyday in doing what is agreeable unto him. But although we regard him much, still he regardeth us not and is engaged in doing us ill. And, O king, without knowing his own strength and the dignity of the race to which he belongeth, he hath placed himself under Jarasandha's shelter at sight of the latter's blazing fame alone. And, O exalted one, the eighteen tribes of the Bhojas, from fear of Jarasandha, have all fled towards the west; so also have the Surasenas, the Bhadrakas, the Vodhas, the Salwas, the Patachchavas, the Susthalas, the Mukuttas, and the Kulindas, along with the Kuntis. And the king of the Salwayana tribe with their brethren and followers; and the southern Panchalas and the eastern Kosalas have all fled to the country of the Kuntis. So also the Matsyas and the Sannyastapadas, overcome with fear, leaving their dominions in the north, have fled into the southern country. And so all the Panchalas, alarmed at the power of Jarasandha, have left their own kingdom and fled in all directions. Some time before, the foolish Kansa, having persecuted the Yadavas, married two of the daughters of Jarasandha. They are called Asti and Prapti and are the sister of Sahadeva. Strengthened by such an alliance, the fool persecuting his relatives gained an ascendency over them all. But by this conduct he earned great obloquy. The wretch also began to oppress the old kings of the Bhoja tribe, but they, to protect themselves from the persecution of their relative, sought our help. Having bestowed upon Akrura the handsome daughter of Ahuka, with Sankarshana as my second I did a service to my relatives, for both Kansa and Sunaman were slain by me assisted by Rama. But after the immediate cause of fear was removed (by the death of Kansa), Jarasandha, his father-in-law, took up arms. Ourselves consisting of the eighteen younger branches of the Yadavas arrived at the conclusion that even if we struck our enemies continually with excellent weapons capable of taking the lives of the foes, we should still be unable to do anything unto him even in three hundred years. He hath two friends that are like unto the immortals, and in point of strength the foremost of all men endued with might. They are called Hansa and Dimvaka who are both incapable of being slain by weapons. The mighty Jarasandha, being united with them, becomes incapable, I think, of being vanquished by even the three worlds. O thou foremost of all intelligent men, this is not our opinion alone but all other kings also are of the same mind. There lived, O monarch, a king of the name of Hansa, who was slain by Rama (Valadeva) after a battle of eighteen days. But, O Bharata, hearing people say that Hansa had been killed, Dimvaka, O king, thought that he could not live without Hansa. He accordingly jumped into the waters of the Yamuna and killed himself. Afterwards when Hansa, the subjugator of hostile heroes, heard that Dimvaka, had killed himself, he went to the Yamuna and jumped into its waters. Then, O bull of the Bharata race, king Jarasandha, hearing that both Hansa and Dimvaka had been killed, returned to his kingdom with an empty heart. After Jarasandha had returned, O slayer of all foes, we were filled with pleasure and continued to live at Mathura. Then the widow of Hansa and the daughter of Jarasandha, that handsome woman with eyes like lotus-petals, grieved at the death of her lord, went unto her father, and repeatedly urged, O Monarch, the king of Magadha, saying,--O slayer of all foes, kill thou the slayer of my husband.--Then, O great king, remembering the conclusion to which we had come of old we became exceedingly cheerless and fled from Mathura. Dividing our large wealth into small portions so as to make each portion easily portable, we fled from fear of Jarasandha, with our cousins and relatives. Reflecting upon everything, we fled towards the west. There is a delightful town towards the west called Kusasthali, adorned by the mountains of Raivata. In that city, O monarch, we took up our abode. We rebuilt its fort and made it so strong that it has become impregnable even to the Gods. And from within it even the women might fight the foe, what to speak of the Yadava heroes without fear of any kind? O slayer of all foes, we are now living in that city. And, O tiger of the Kuru race, considering the inaccessibility of that first of mountains and regarding themselves as having already crossed the fear of Jarasandha, the descendants of Madhu have become exceedingly glad. Thus, O king, though possessed of strength and energy, yet from the oppressions of Jarasandha we have been obliged to repair to the mountains of Gomanta, measuring three Yojanas in length. Within each yojana have been established one and twenty posts of armed men. And at intervals of each yojana are hundred gates with arches which are defended by valourous heroes engaged in guarding them. And innumerable Kshatriyas invincible in war, belonging to the eighteen younger branches of the Yadavas, are employed in defending these works. In our race, O king, there are full eighteen thousand brothers and cousins. Ahuka hath had a hundred sons, each of whom is almost like a god (in prowess), Charudeshna with his brother Chakradeva, Satyaki, myself, Valadeva the son of Rohini, and my son Samva who is equal unto me in battle--these seven, O king are Atirathas. Besides these, there are others, O king, whom I shall presently name. They are Kritavarman, Anadhrishti, Samika, Samitinjaya, Kanka, Sanku and Kunti. These seven are Maharathas. There are also two sons of Andhakabhoja, and the old king himself. Endued with great energy these are all heroes, each mighty as the thunderbolt. These Maharathas, choosing the middle country, are now living amongst the Vrishnis. O thou best of the Bharata line, thou alone art worthy of being an emperor. It behoveth thee, O Bharata, to establish thy empire over all the Kshatriyas. But this is my judgment, O king, that thou wilt not be able to celebrate the Rajasuya sacrifice as long as the mighty Jarasandha liveth. By him have been immured in his hillfort numerous monarchs, like a lion that hath deposited the slain bodies of mighty elephants within a cave of the king of mountains. O slayer of all enemies, king Jarasandha, desirous of offering in sacrifice hundred monarchs, adored for his fierce ascetic penances the illustrious god of gods, the lord of Uma. It is by this means that the kings of the earth have been vanquished by Jarasandha. And, O best of monarchs, he hath by that means been able to fulfil the vow he had made relative to his sacrifice. By defeating the kings with their troops and bringing all of them as captives into this city, he had swelled its crowds enormously. We also, O king, from fear of Jarasandha, at one time had to leave Mathura and fly to the city of Dwaravati. If, O great king, thou desirest to perform this sacrifice, strive to release the kings confined by Jarasandha, as also to compass his death, O son of the Kuru race, otherwise this undertaking of thine can never be completed. O thou foremost of intelligent men if the Rajasuya is to be performed by thee, you must do this in this way and not otherwise. This, O king, is my view (on the matter). Do, O sinless one, as thou thinkest. Under these circumstances, O king, having reflected upon everything, taking note of causes, tell us what thou thyself thinkest proper." SECTION XV "Yudhishthira said,--'Intelligent as thou art, thou hast said what none else is capable of saying. There is none else on earth who is settler of all doubts. Behold, there are kings in every province employed in benefiting their respective selves. But no one amongst them hath been able to achieve the imperial dignity. Indeed, the title emperor is difficult of acquisition. He that knoweth the valour and strength of others never applaudeth himself. He, indeed, is really worthy of applause (worship) who, engaged in encounters with his enemies, beareth himself commendably. O thou supporter of the dignity of the Vrishni race, man's desires and propensities, like the wide earth itself adorned with many jewels, are varied and extensive. As experience can seldom be gained but by travelling in regions remote from one's home, so salvation can never be attained except by acting according to principles that are very high, compared with the ordinary level of our desire and propensities. I regard peace of mind as the highest object here, for from that quality may proceed my prosperity. In my judgment, if I undertake to celebrate this sacrifice, I shall never win the highest reward. O Janardana, endued with energy and intelligence, these that have been born in our race think that some one amongst them will at one time become the foremost amongst all Kshatriyas. But, O exalted one, we also were all frightened by the fear of Jarasandha and, O sinless one, by the wickedness of that monarch. O thou invincible in battle, the might of thy arm is my refuge. When, therefore, thou taken fright at Jarasandha's might, how should I regard myself strong in comparison with him? Madhava, O thou of the Vrishni race, I am repeatedly depressed by the thought whether Jarasandha is capable or not of being slain by thee, by Rama, by Bhimasena, or by Arjuna. But what shall I say, O Keshava? Thou art my highest authority on everything.' "On hearing these words, Bhima well-skilled in speech said,--'That king who is without exertion, or who being weak and without resources entereth into hostility with one that is strong, perisheth like an ant-hill. It may be generally seen, however, that even a king that is weak may vanquish an enemy that is strong and obtain the fruition of all his wishes, by wakefulness and by the application of policy. In Krishna is policy, in myself strength, in Arjuna triumphs. So like the three (sacrificial) fires that accomplish a sacrifice, we shall accomplish the death of the king of Magadha.' "Krishna then said,--'One that is immature in understanding seeketh the fruition of his desire without an eye to what may happen to him in future. It is seen that no one forgiveth for that reason a foe that is of immature understanding and inclined to serve his own interests. It hath been heard by us that in the krita age, having brought every one under their subjection, Yauvanaswin by the abolition of all taxes, Bhagiratha by his kind treatment to his subjects, Kartavirya by the energy of his asceticism, the lord Bharata by his strength and valour, and Maruta by his prosperity, all these five became emperors. But, O Yudhishthira, thou who covetest the imperial dignity deserves it, not by one but by all these qualities, viz., victory, protection afforded to thy people, virtue, prosperity, and policy. Know, O bull of the Kuru race, that Jarasandha, the son of Vrihadratha, is even such (i.e., a candidate for the imperial dignity). A hundred dynasties of kings have become unable to oppose Jarasandha. He, therefore, may be regarded to be an emperor for his strength. Kings that are wearers of jewels worship Jarasandha (with presents of jewels). But, wicked from his childhood, he is scarcely satisfied with such worship. Having become the foremost among all, he attacketh yet with violence kings with crowns on their heads. Nor is there seen any king from whom he taketh not tribute. Thus hath he brought under his sway nearly a hundred kings. How can, O son of Pritha, any weak monarch approach him with hostile intentions? Confined in the temple of Shiva and offered as sacrifice unto him like so many animals, do not these monarchs dedicated unto that god feel the most poignant misery, O bull of the Bharata race? A Kshatriya that dieth in battle is ever regarded with respect. Why shall we not, therefore, meet together and oppose Jarsandha in battle? He hath already brought eighty-six kings; fourteen only are wanting to complete one hundred. As soon as he obtaineth those fourteen, he will begin his cruel act. He that shall be to obstruct that act will surely win blazing renown. And he that will vanquish Jarasandha will surely become the emperor of all the Kshatriyas.' SECTION XVI "Yudhishthira said,--'Desirous of the imperial dignity but acting from selfish motives and relying upon courage alone, how, O Krishna, can I despatch ye (unto Jarasandha)? Both Bhima and Arjuna, I regard as my eyes, and thee, O Janardana as my mind. How shall I live, deprived of my eyes and mind. Yama himself cannot vanquish in battle the mighty host of Jarasandha that is endued, besides, with terrible valour. What valour can ye exhibit against it. This affair that promises to terminate otherwise may lead to great mischief. It is my opinion, therefore, that the proposed task should not be undertaken. Listen, O Krishna, to what I for one think. O Janardana, desisting from this act seemeth to me to be beneficial. My heart to-day is afflicted. The Rajasuya appeareth to me difficult of accomplishment.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Arjuna who had obtained that excellent of bows and that couple of inexhaustible quivers, and that car with that banner, as also that assembly room, now addressed Yudhishthira and said,--'I have obtained, O king, a bow and weapons and arrows and energy and allies and dominions and fame and strength. Those are always difficult of acquisition, however much they may be desired. Learned men of repute always praise in good society nobleness of descent. But nothing is equal to might. Indeed, O monarch, there is nothing I like more than prowess. Born in a race noted for its valour, one that is without valour is scarcely worthy of regard. One, however, possessed of valour, that is born in a race not noted for it, is much superior to the former. He, O king, is a Kshatriya in every thing who increaseth his fame and possessions by the subjugation of his enemies. And he that is possessed of valour, though destitute of all (other) merits, will vanquish his foes. One, however, that is destitute of valour, though possessed of every (other) merit, can scarcely accomplish anything. Every merit exists by the side of valour in an incipient state. Concentration of attention, exertion and destiny exist as the three causes of victory. One, however, that is possessed of valour doth not yet deserve success if he acts carelessly. It is for this that an enemy endued with strength sometimes suffers death at the hands of his foes. As meanness overtakes the weak, so folly sometimes overtakes the strong. A king, therefore, that is desirous of victory, should avoid both these causes of destruction. If, for the purpose of our sacrifice, we endeavour to slay Jarasandha and rescue the kings kept by him for a cruel purpose, there is no higher act which we could employ ourselves in. If, however, we do not undertake the task, the world will always think us incompetent. We have certainly the competence, O king! Why should you, therefore, regard us as incompetent? Those that have become Munis desirous of achieving tranquillity of souls, obtain yellow robes with ease. So if we vanquish the foe, the imperial dignity will easily be ours. We shall, therefore fight the foe.' SECTION XVII "Vasudeva said,--'Arjuna hath indicated what the inclination should be of one that is born in the Bharata race, especially of one who is the son of Kunti. We know not when death will overtake us, in the night or in the day. Nor have we ever heard that immortality hath been achieved by desisting from fight. This, therefore, is the duty of men, viz., to attack all enemies in accordance with the principles laid down in the ordinance. This always gives satisfaction to the heart. Aided by good policy, if not frustrated by Destiny, an undertaking becomes crowned with success. If both parties aided by such means encounter each other, one must obtain ascendency over the other, for both cannot win or lose. A battle however, if directed by bad policy which again is destitute of the well-known arts, ends in defeat or destruction. If, again, both parties are equally circumstanced, the result becomes doubtful. Both, however, cannot win. When such is the case, why should we not, aided by good policy, directly approach the foe; and destroy him, like the current of the river uprooting a tree? If, disguising our own faults, we attack the enemy taking advantage of his loopholes, why should we not succeed? Indeed, the policy of intelligent men, is that one should not fight openly with foes that are exceedingly powerful and are at the head of their well-arrayed forces. This too is my opinion. If, however, we accomplish our purpose secretly entering the abode of our foe and attacking his person, we shall never earn obloquy. That bull among men--Jarasandha--alone enjoyeth unfaded glory, like unto him who is the self in the heart of every created being. But I see his destruction before me. Desirous of protecting our relatives we will either slay him in battle or shall ascend to heaven being ourselves slain in the end by him.' "Yudhishthira said--'O Krishna, who is this Jarasandha? What is his energy and what is his prowess, that having touched thee he hath not been burnt like an insect at the touch of fire?' "Krishna said,--'Hear, O monarch, who Jarasandha is; what his energy; and what is his prowess; and why also he hath been spared by us, even though he hath repeatedly offended us. There was a mighty king of the name of Vrihadratha, the lord of the Magadhas. Proud in battle, he had three Akshauhinis of troops. Handsome and endued with energy, possessed of affluence and prowess beyond measure, and always bearing on his person marks indicating installation at sacrifices. He was like a second Indra. In glory he was like unto Suryya, in forgiveness like unto the Earth, in wrath like unto the destroyer Yama and in wealth like unto Vaisravana. And O thou foremost of the Bharata race, the whole earth was covered by his qualities that descended upon him from a long line of ancestors, like the rays emerging from the sun. And, O bull of the Bharata race, endued with great energy that monarch married two twin daughters of the king of Kasi, both endued with the wealth of beauty. And that bull among men made an engagement in secret with his wives that he would love them equally and would never show a preference for either. And the lord of the earth in the company of his two dearly loved wives, both of whom suited him well, passed his days in joy like a mighty elephant in the company of two cow-elephants, or like the ocean in his personified form between Ganga and Yamuna (also in their personified forms). The monarch's youth however, passed away in the enjoyment of his possessions, without any son being born unto him to perpetuate his line. The best of monarch failed to obtain a son to perpetuate his race, even by means of various auspicious rites, and homas, and sacrifices performed with the desire for having an offspring. One day the king heard that the high-souled Chanda-kausika, the son of Kakshivat of the illustrious Gautama race, having desisted from ascetic penances had come in course of his wanderings to his capital and had taken his seat under the shade of a mango tree. The king went unto that Muni accompanied by his two wives, and worshipping him with jewels and valuable presents gratified him highly. That best of Rishis truthful in speech and firmly attached to truth, then told the king,--"O king of kings, I have been pleased with thee. O thou of excellent vows, solicit thou a boon." King Vrihadratha then, with his wives, bending low unto that Rishi, spoke these words choked with tears in consequence of his despair of obtaining a child.--"O holy one forsaking my kingdom I am about to go into the woods to practise ascetic penances. I am very unfortunate for I have no son. What shall I do, therefore, with my kingdom or with a boon?"' "Krishna continued,--'Hearing these words (of the king), the Muni controlling his outer senses entered into meditation, sitting in the shade of that very mango tree where he was. And there fell upon the lap of the seated Muni a mango that was juicy and untouched by the beak of a parrot or any other bird. That best of Munis, taking up the fruit and mentally pronouncing certain mantras over it, gave it unto the king as the means of his obtaining an incomparable offspring. And the great Muni, possessed also of extraordinary wisdom, addressing the monarch, said,--"Return, O king, thy wish is fulfilled. Desist, O king, from going (into the woods)".--Hearing these words of the Muni and worshipping his feet, the monarch possessed of great wisdom, returned to his own abode. And recollecting his former promise (unto them) the king gave, O bull of the Bharata race, unto his two wives that one fruit. His beautiful queens, dividing that single fruit into two parts, ate it up. In consequence of the certainty of the realisation of the Muni's words and his truthfulness, both of them conceived, as an effect of their having eaten that fruit. And the king beholding them in that state became filled with great joy. Then, O wise monarch, some time after, when the time came, each of the queens brought forth a fragmentary body. And each fragment had one eye, one arm, one leg, half a stomach, half a face, and half an anus. Beholding the fragmentary bodies, both the mothers trembled much. The helpless sisters then anxiously consulted each other, and sorrowfully abandoned those fragments endued with life. The two midwives (that waited upon the queens) then carefully wrapping up the still-born (?) fragments went out of the inner apartments (of the palace) by the back door and throwing away the bodies, returned in haste. A little while after, O tiger among men, a Rakshasa woman of the name of Jara living upon flesh and blood, took up the fragments that lay on a crossing. And impelled by force of fate, the female cannibal united the fragments for facility of carrying them away. And, O bull among men, as soon as the fragments were united they formed a sturdy child of one body (endued with life). Then, O king, the female cannibal, with eyes expanded in wonder, found herself unable to carry away that child having a body as hard and strong as the thunder-bolt. That infant then closing his fists red as copper and inserting them into its mouth, began to roar terribly as rain-charged clouds. Alarmed at the sound, the inmates of the palace, O tiger among men, suddenly came out with the king, O slayer of all foes. The helpless and disappointed and sad queens also, with breasts full of milk, also came out suddenly to recover their child. The female cannibal beholding the queens in that condition and the king too so desirous of an offspring, and the child was possessed of such strength thought within herself--I live within dominions of the king who is so desirous of an offspring. It behoveth not me, therefore, to kill the infant child of such an illustrious and virtuous monarch. The Rakshasa woman then, holding the child in her arms like the clouds enveloping the sun, and assuming a human form, told the king these words,--"O Vrihadratha, this is thy child. Given to thee by me, O, take it. It hath been born of both thy wives by virtue of the command of the great Brahmana. Cast away by the midwives, it hath been protected by me!"' "Krishna continued,--'O thou foremost of the Bharata race, the handsome daughters of the king of Kasi, having obtained the child, soon drenched it with their lacteal streams. The king ascertaining everything, was filled with joy, and addressing that female cannibal disguised as a human being possessing the complexion of gold, asked,--O thou of the complexion of the filament of the lotus, who art thou that givest me this child? O auspicious one, thou seemest to me as a goddess roaming at thy pleasure!' SECTION XVIII "Krishna continued,--'Hearing these words of the king, the Rakshasa woman answered--"Blessed be thou, O king of kings. Capable of assuming any form at will, I am a Rakshasa woman called Jara. I am living, O king, happily in thy house, worshipped by all. Every day I wander from house to house of men. Indeed, I was created of old by the Self-create and was named Grihadevi (the household goddess). Of celestial beauty I was placed (in the world) for the destruction of the Danavas. He that with devotion painteth on the walls (of his house) a likeness of myself endued with youth and in the midst of children, must have prosperity in his abode; otherwise a household must sustain decay and destruction. O lord, painted on the walls of thy house is a likeness of myself surrounded by numerous children. Stationed there I am daily worshipped with scents and flowers, with incense and edibles and various objects of enjoyment. Thus worshipped in thy house, I daily think of doing thee some good in return. It chanced, O virtuous king, that I beheld the fragmentary bodies of thy son. When these happened to be united by me, a living child was formed of them. O great king, it hath been so owing to thy good fortune alone. I have been only the instrument, I am capable of swallowing the mountain of Meru itself, what shall I say of the child? I have, however, been gratified with thee in consequence of the worship I receive in thy house. It is, therefore, O king, that I have bestowed this child on thee."' "Krishna continued,--'Having spoken these words, O king, Jara disappeared there and then. The king having obtained the child then entered the palace. And the king then caused all the rites of infancy to be performed on that child, and ordered a festival to be observed by his people in honour of that Rakshasa woman. And the monarch equal unto Brahma himself then bestowed a name on his child. And he said that because the child had been united by Jara, he should be called (Jarasandha i.e., united by Jara). And the son of the king of Magadha endued with great energy, began to grow up in bulk and strength like a fire into which hath been poured libation of clarified butter. And increasing day by day like the moon in the bright fortnight, the child began to enhance the joy of his parents.' SECTION XIX "Krishna said,--'some time after this, the great ascetic, the exalted Chandakausika, again came into the country of the Magadhas. Filled with joy at the advent of the Rishi, king Vrihadratha, accompanied by his ministers and priest and wives and son, went out to receive him. And, O Bharata, worshipping the Rishi with water to wash his feet and face, and with the offerings of Arghya the king then offered his whole kingdom along with his son for the acceptance of the Rishi. The adorable Rishi accepting that worship offered by the king, addressing the ruler of Magadha, O monarch, said with well-pleased heart,--"O king, I knew all this by spiritual insight. But hear, O king of kings, what this son of thine will be in future, as also what his beauty, excellence, strength, and valour will be. Without doubt this son of thine, growing in prosperity and endued with prowess, will obtain all these. Like other birds that can never imitate the speed of Vinata's son (Garuda), the other monarchs of the earth will not be able to equal in energy this thy son, who will be endued with great valour. And all those that will stand in his way will certainly be destroyed. Like the force of the current that can never make the slightest impression upon the rocky breast of a mountain, weapons hurled at him even by the celestials will fail to produce the least pain in him. He will blaze forth above the heads of all that wear crowns on their brows. Like the sun that dims the lustre of all luminous bodies, this son of thine will rob all monarchs of their splendour. Even kings that are powerful and own large armies and numberless vehicles and animals, upon approaching this son of thine, will all perish as insects upon fire. This child will seize the growing prosperity of all kings like the ocean receiving the rivers swollen with the water of the rainy season. Like the huge earth that bears all kinds of produce, supporting things that are both good and evil, this child endued with great strength will support all the four orders of men. And all the kings of the earth will live in obedience to the commands of this child just as every creature endued with body live in dependence upon Vayu that is dear as self unto beings. This prince of Magadha--the mightiest of all men in the world--will behold with his physical eyes the god of gods called Rudra or Hara, the slayer of Tripura." O thou slayer of all foes, saying this, the Rishi, thinking of his own business, dismissed king Vrihadratha. The lord of the Magadhas then, re-entering his capital, and calling together his friends and relations, installed Jarasandha, on the throne. King Vrihadratha then came to feel a great distaste for worldly pleasures. And after the installation of Jarasandha king Vrihadratha followed by his two wives became an inmate of an ascetic asylum in the woods. And, O king, after his father and mothers had retired into the woods, Jarasandha by his valour brought numerous kings under his sway.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"King Vrihadratha, having lived for some time in the woods and practised ascetic penances, ascended to heaven at last with his wives. King Jarasandha, also, as uttered by Kausika, having received those numerous boons ruled his kingdom like a father. Some time after when king Kansa was slain by Vasudeva, an enmity arose between him and Krishna. Then, O Bharata, the mighty king of Magadha from his city of Girivraja, whirling a mace ninety-nine times, hurled it towards Mathura. At that time Krishna of wonderful deeds was residing at Mathura. The handsome mace hurled by Jarasandha fell near Mathura at a distance of ninety-nine yojanas from Gririvraja. The citizens beholding the circumstance well, went unto Krishna and informed him of the fall of the mace. The place where the mace fell is adjacent to Mathura and is called Gadavasan. Jarasandha had two supporters called Hansa and Dimvaka, both of whom were incapable of being slain by weapons. Well-conversant with the science of politics and morality, in counsel they were the foremost of all intelligent men. I have already told thee everything about that mighty pair. They two and Jarasandha, I believe, are more than a match for three worlds. O brave king, it was for this reason that the powerful Kukkura, Andhaka and Vrishni tribes, acting from motives of policy, did not deem it proper to fight with him. SECTION XX (Jarasandhta-badha Parva) "Krishna said,--'both Hansa and Dimvaka have fallen; Kansa also with all his followers has been slain. The time hath, therefore come for the destruction of Jarasandha. He is incapable of being vanquished in battle even by all the celestials and the Asuras (fighting together). We think, however, that he should be vanquished in a personal struggle with bare arms. In me is policy, in Bhima is strength and in Arjuna is triumph; and therefore, as prelude to performing the Rajasuya, we will certainly achieve the destruction of the ruler of Magadha. When we three approach that monarch in secret, and he will, without doubt, be engaged in an encounter with one of us. From fear of disgrace, from covetousness, and from pride of strength he will certainly summon Bhima to the encounter. Like death himself that slays a person however swollen with pride, the long-armed and mighty Bhimasena will effect the destruction of the king. If thou knowest my heart, if thou hast any faith in me, then make over to me, as a pledge, Bhima and Arjuna without loss of time!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thus addressed by the exalted one, Yudhishthira, beholding both Bhima and Arjuna standing with cheerful faces, replied, saying--'O Achyuta, O Achyuta, thou slayer of all enemies, say not so. Thou art the lord of the Pandavas! We are dependent on thee. What thou sayest, O Govinda, is consistent with wise counsels. Thou never leadest those upon whom Prosperity hath turned her back. I who stay under thy command regard that Jarasandha is already slain, that the monarchs confined by him have already been set free, that the Rajasuya hath already been accomplished by me. O lord of the universe, O thou best of persons, watchfully act thou so that this task may be accomplished. Without ye then I dare not live, like a sorrowful man afflicted with disease, and bereft of the three attributes of morality, pleasure and wealth. Partha cannot live without Sauri (Krishna), nor can Sauri live without Partha. Nor is there anything in the world that is unconquerable by these two, viz., Krishna and Arjuna. This handsome Bhima also is the foremost of all persons endued with might. Of great renown, what can he not achieve when with ye two? Troops, when properly led, always do excellent service. A force without a leader hath been called inert by the wise. Forces, therefore, should always be led by experienced commanders. Into places that are low, the wise always conduct the water. Even fishermen cause the water (of tank) to run out through holes. (Experienced leaders always lead their forces noting the loopholes and assailable points of the foe). We shall, therefore, strive to accomplish our purpose following the leadership of Govinda conversant with the science of politics, that personage whose fame hath spread all over the world. For the successful accomplishment of one's purposes one should ever place Krishna in the van, that foremost of personages whose strength consists in wisdom and policy and who possesseth a knowledge of both method and means. For the accomplishment of one's purpose let, therefore, Arjuna, the son of Pritha, follow Krishna the foremost of the Yadavas and let Bhima follow Arjuna. Policy and good fortune and might will (then) bring about success in a matter requiring valour.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, the trio Krishna, Arjuna and Bhima, all possessed of great energy, set out for Magadha attired in the garb of Snataka Brahmanas of resplendent bodies, and blessed by the agreeable speeches of friends and relatives. Possessed of superior energy and of bodies already like the Sun, the Moon, and the Fire, inflamed with wrath at the sad lot of their relative kings, those bodies of theirs became much more blazing. And the people, beholding Krishna and Arjuna, both of whom had never before been vanquished in battle, with Bhima in the van, all ready to achieve the same task, regarded Jarasandha as already slain. For the illustrious pair (Krishna and Arjuna) were masters that directed every operation (in the universe), as also all acts relating to the morality, wealth, and pleasure of every being. Having set out from the country of the Kurus, they passed through Kuru-jangala and arrived at the charming lake of lotuses. Passing over the hills of Kalakuta, they then went on crossing the Gandaki, the Sadanira (Karatoya), and the Sarkaravarta and the other rivers taking their rise in the same mountains. They then crossed the delightful Sarayu and saw the country of Eastern Kosala. Passing over that country they went to Mithila and then crossing the Mala and Charamanwati, the three heroes crossed the Ganges and the Sone and went on towards the east. At last those heroes of unfaded glory arrived at Magadha in the heart of (the country of) Kushamva. Reaching then the hills of Goratha, they saw the city of Magadha that was always filled with kine and wealth and water and rendered handsome with the innumerable trees standing there. SECTION XXI "Vasudeva said,--'behold, O Partha, the great capital of Magadha, standing in all its beauty. Filled with flocks and herds and its stock of water never exhausted, and adorned also with fine mansions standing in excellent array, it is free from every kind of calamity. The five large hills of Vaihara, Varaha, Vrishava, Rishigiri, and the delightful Chaitya, all of high peaks and overgrown with tall trees of cool shade and connected with one another, seem to be jointly protecting the city of Girivraja. The breasts of the hills are concealed by forests of delightful and fragrant Lodhras having the ends of their branches covered with flowers. It was here that the illustrious Gautama of rigid vows begat on the Sudra woman Ausinari (the daughter of Usinara) Kakshivat and other celebrated sons. That the race sprung from Gautama doth yet live under the sway of an ordinary human race (of monarchs) is only evidence of Gautama's kindness to kings. And, O Arjuna, it was here that in olden times the mighty monarchs of Anga, and Vanga and other countries, came to the abode of Gautama, and passed their days in joy and happiness. Behold, O Partha, those forests of delightful Pippalas and beautiful Lodhras standing near the side of Gautama's abode. There dwelt in old days those Nagas, Arvuda and Sakravapin, those persecutors of all enemies, as also the Naga Swastika and that other excellent Naga called Manu. Manu himself had ordered the country of the Magadhas to be never afflicted with drought, and Kaushika and Manimat also have favoured the country. Owning such a delightful and impregnable city, Jarasandha is ever bent on seeking the fruition of his purposes unlike other monarchs. We shall, however, by slaying him to-day humble his pride.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Thus saying those brothers of abundant energy, viz., he of the Vrishni race and the two Pandavas entered the city of Magadha. They then approached towards the impregnable city of Girivraja that was full of cheerful and well-fed inhabitants belonging to all the four orders, and where festivities were perennial. On arriving then at the gate of the city, the brothers (instead of passing through it) began to pierce (with their shafts) the heart of the high Chaityaka peak that was worshipped by the race of Vrihadratha, as also by the citizens and which delighted the hearts of all the Magadhas. There Vrihadratha had slain a cannibal called Rishava and having slain the monster made of his hide three drums which he placed in his own city. And those drums were such that once beaten their sound lasted one full month. And the brothers broke down the Chaityaka peak that was delightful to all the Magadhas, at that point where those drums covered with celestial flowers used to yield their continuous sound. And desirous of slaying Jarasandha they seemed by that act of theirs to place their feet upon the head of their foe. And attacking with their mighty arms that immovable and huge and high and old and celebrated peak always worshipped with perfumes and floral wreaths, those heroes broke it down. And with joyful hearts they then entered the city. And it so happened that the learned Brahmanas residing within the city saw many evil omens which they reported to Jarasandha. And the priest making the king mount an elephant whirled lighted brands about him. And king Jarasandha also, possessed of great prowess, with a view to warding of those evils, entered upon the celebration of a sacrifice, with proper vows and fasts. Meanwhile, O Bharata, the brothers unarmed, or rather with their bare arms as their only weapons, desirous of fighting with Jarasandha, entered the capital in the guise of Brahmanas. They beheld the extraordinary beauty of the shops full of various edibles and floral wreaths, and supplied with articles of every variety of various qualities that man can desire. Those best of men, Krishna, Bhima, and Dhananjaya, beholding in those shops their affluence, passed along the public road. And endued with great strength they snatched forcibly from the flower-vendors the garlands they had exposed for sale. And attired in robes of various colours and decked in garlands and ear-rings the heroes entered the abode of Jarasandha possessed of great intelligence, like Himalayan lions eyeing cattle-folds. And the arms of those warriors, O king, besmeared with sandal paste, looked like the trunks of sala trees. The people of Magadha, beholding those heroes looking like elephants, with necks broad like those of trees and wide chests, began to wonder much. Those bull among men, passing through three gates that were crowded with men, proudly and cheerfully approached the king. And Jarasandha rising up in haste received them with water to wash their feet with, and honey and the other ingredients of the Arghya--with gifts of kine, and with other forms of respect. The great king addressing them said,--'Ye are welcome'! And, O Janamejaya, both Partha and Bhima remained silent at this. And addressing the monarch Krishna said,--'O king of kings these two are now in the observance of a vow. Therefore they will not speak. Silent they will remain till midnight. After that hour they will speak with thee!' The king then quartering his guests in the sacrificial apartments retired into his private chambers. And when midnight arrived, the monarch arrived at the place where his guests attired as Brahmanas were. For, O King, that ever victorious monarch observed this vow which was known throughout the Worlds that as soon as he should hear of the arrival of Snataka Brahmanas at his place, should it be even at midnight, he would immediately, O Bharata, come out and grant them an audience. Beholding the strange attire of his guests that best of kings wondered much. For all that, however, he waited on them respectfully. Those bulls among men, those slayers of all foes, on the other hand, O thou best of the Bharata race, beholding king Jarasandha, said,--'Let salvation be attained by thee, O king, without difficulty.' And, O tiger among kings, having said this unto the monarch, they stood looking at each other. And, O king of kings, Jarasandha then said unto those sons of Pandu and him of the Yadu race, all disguised as Brahmanas--'Take your seats.' And those bulls among men sat themselves down, and like the three priests of a great sacrifice blazed forth in their beauty. And king Jarasandha, O thou of the Kuru race, firmly devoted to truth, censuring the disguised guests, said unto them,--'It is well known to me that in the whole world Brahmanas in the observance of Snataka vow never deck their persons with garlands and fragrant paste unseasonably. Who are ye, therefore, thus decked with flowers, and with hands bearing the marks of the bow-string? Attired in coloured robes and decked unseasonably with flowers and paste, ye give me to understand that ye are Brahmanas, although ye bear Kshatriya energy. Tell me truly who ye are. Truth decks even kings. Breaking down the peak of the Chaityaka hill, why have ye, in disguise, entered (the city) by an improper gate without fear of the royal wrath? The energy of a Brahmana dwelleth in his speech, (not in act). This your feat is not suited to the order to which ye profess to belong. Tell us therefore, the end ye have in view. Arrived here by such an improper way, why accept ye not the worship I offer? What is your motive for coming to me?' Thus addressed by the king, the high-souled Krishna, well-skilled in speech, thus replied unto the monarch in a calm and grave voice. "Krishna said,--'O king, know us for Snataka Brahmanas. Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaishyas are all, O monarch, competent to observe the vow of Snataka. This vow, besides, hath (many) especial and general rules. A Kshatriya observing this vow with especial rules always achieve prosperity. Therefore, have we decked ourselves with flowers. Kshatriyas again, O king, exhibit their energy by their arms and not in speech. It is, therefore, O son of Vrihadratha, that the speeches uttered by a Kshatriya are never audacious. O monarch, the creator hath planted his own energy in the aim of the Kshatriya. If thou wishest to behold it, thou shalt certainly behold it today. These are the rules of the ordinance, viz., that an enemy's abode should be entered through a wrong gate and a friend's abode through the right one. And know, O monarch, that this also is our eternal vow that having entered the foe's abode for the accomplishment of our purpose, we accept not the worship offered to us!' SECTION XXII "Jarasandha said,--'I do not recollect if I ever acted injuriously towards ye! Even upon a careful mental scrutiny I fail to see the injury I did unto ye. When I have never done ye an injury, why, ye Brahmanas do ye regard me, who am innocent, as your foe? O, answer me truly, for this, indeed, is the rule followed by the honest. The mind is pained at the injury to one's pleasure and morality. That Kshatriya who injures an innocent man's (sources of) pleasure and morality even if he be otherwise a great warrior and well-versed in all rules of morality, obtains, without any doubt the fate of sinners (hereafter) and falls off from prosperity. The practices of the Kshatriyas are the best of those that are honest in the three worlds. Indeed, those that are acquainted with morality applaud the Kshatriya practices. Adhering to those practices of my order with steady soul, I never injure those that are under me. In bringing this charge, therefore, against me, it appears that ye speak erroneously!' "Krishna said,--'O thou of mighty arms, there is a certain person of the head of a (royal) line who upholdeth the dignity of his race. At his command have we come against thee. Thou hast brought, O king, many of the Kshatriyas of the world as captives (to thy city.) Having perpetrated that wicked wrong how dost thou regard thyself as innocent? O best of monarchs, how can a king act wrongfully towards other virtuous kings? But thou, O king, treating other kings with cruelty, seekest to offer them as sacrifice unto the god Rudra! O son of Vrihadratha, this sin committed by thee may touch even us, for as we are virtuous in our practices, we are capable of protecting virtue. The slaughter of human being as sacrifice unto the gods is never seen. Why dost thou, therefore, seek to perform a sacrifice unto god Sankara by slaughtering human beings? Thou art addressing persons belonging to thy own order as animals (fit for sacrifice)! Fool as thou art, who else, O Jarasandha, is capable of behaving in this way? One always obtaineth the fruits of whatever acts one performeth under whatever circumstances. Therefore, desirous as we are of helping all distressed people, we have, for the prosperity of our race, come hither to slay thee, the slaughterer of our relatives. Thou thinkest that there is no man among the Kshatriyas (equal to thee). This, O king, is a great error of judgment on thy part. What Kshatriya is there, O king, who endued with greatness of soul and recollecting the dignity of his own parentage, would not ascend to eternal heaven that hath not its like anywhere, falling in open fight? Know O bull among men, that Kshatriyas engage themselves in battle, as persons installed in sacrifices, with heaven in view, and vanquish the whole world! Study of the Vedas, great fame, ascetic penances, and death in battle, are all acts that lead to heaven. The attainment of heaven by the three other acts may be uncertain, but death in battle hath that for its certain consequence. Death in battle is the sure cause of triumph like Indra's. It is graced by numerous merits. It is for this reason that he of a hundred sacrifices (Indra) hath become what he is, and by vanquishing the Asuras he ruleth the universe. Hostility with whom else than thee is so sure of leading to heaven, proud as thou art of the excessive strength of thy vast Magadha host? Don't disregard others, O king. Valour dwelleth in every man. O king of men, there are many men whose valour may be equal or superior to thine. As long as these are not known, so long only art thou noted for thy valour. Thy prowess, O king, can be borne by us. It is, therefore, that I say so. O king of Magadha, cast off thy superiority and pride in the presence of those that are thy equals. Go not, O king, with thy children and ministers and army, into the regions of Yama. Damvodhava, Kartavirya, Uttara, and Vrihadratha, were kings that met with destruction, along with all their forces, for having disregarded their superiors. Desirous of liberating the captive monarchs from thee, know that we are certainly not Brahmanas. I am Hrishesha otherwise called Sauri, and these two heroes among men are the sons of Pandu. O king of Magadha, we challenge thee. Fight standing before us. Either set free all the monarchs, or go thou to the abode of Yama.' "Jarasandha said,--'I never make a captive of a king without first vanquishing him. Who hath been kept here that hath not been defeated in war? This, O Krishna, it hath been said, is the duty that should be followed by the Kshatriyas, viz., to bring others under sway by the exhibition of prowess and then to treat them as slaves. Having gathered these monarchs with the intention of offering them as sacrifices unto the god, how shall I, O Krishna, from fear liberate them to-day, when I recollect also the duty I have recited of a Kshatriya? With troops against troops arrayed in order of battle, or alone against one, or against two, or against three, at the same time or separately, I am ready to fight.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Having spoken thus, and desiring to fight with those heroes of terrible achievements, king Jarasandha ordered (his son) Sahadeva to be installed on the throne. Then, O bull of the Bharata race, the king, on the eve of battle, thought of his two generals Kausika and Chitrasena. These two, O king, were formerly called by everybody in the world of men by the respectful appellations of Hansa and Dimvaka. And, O monarch, that tiger among men, the lord Sauri ever devoted to truth, the slayer of Madhu, the younger brother of Haladhara, the foremost of all persons having their senses under complete control, keeping in view the command of Brahma and remembering that the ruler of Magadha was destined to be slain in battle by Bhima and not by the descendant of Madhu (Yadavas), desired not to slay himself king Jarasandha, that foremost of all men endued with strength, that hero possessed of the prowess of a tiger, that warrior of terrible valour." SECTION XXIII Vaisampayana said,--"then that foremost of all speakers, Krishna of the Yadava race, addressing king Jarasandha who was resolved upon fighting, said,--'O king, with whom amongst us three dost thou desire to fight? Who amongst us shall prepare himself for battle (with thee)?' Thus addressed, the ruler of Magadha, king Jarasandha of great splendour, expressed his desire for fighting with Bhima. The priest then, bringing with him the yellow pigment obtained from the cow and garlands of flowers and other auspicious articles, as also various excellent medicines for restoring lost consciousness and alleviating pain, approached Jarasandha, panting for battle. The king Jarasandha, on whose behalf propitiatory ceremonies with benedictions were performed by a renowned Brahmana, remembering the duty of a Kshatriya dressed himself for battle. Taking off his crown and binding his hair properly, Jarasandha stood up like an ocean bursting its continents. Then the monarch possessed of terrible prowess, addressing Bhima, said, 'I will fight with thee. It is better to be vanquished by a superior person.' And saying this, Jarasandha, that represser of all foes endued, rushed with great energy at Bhimasena like the Asura Vala of old who rushed at the chief of the celestials. And the mighty Bhimasena, on whose behalf the gods had been invoked by Krishna, that cousin of his, having consulted with advanced towards Jarasandha, impelled by the desire of fight. Then those tigers among men, those heroes of great prowess, with their bare arms as their only weapons, cheerfully engaged themselves in the encounter, each desirous of vanquishing the other. And seizing each other's arms and twining each other's legs, (at times) they slapped their arm-pits, causing the enclosure to tremble at the sound. And frequently seizing each other's necks with their hands and dragging and pushing it with violence, and each pressing every limb of his body against every limb of the other, they continued, O exalted one, to slap their arm-pits (at time). And sometimes stretching their arms and sometimes drawing them close, and now raising them up and now dropping them down, they began to seize each other. And striking neck against neck and forehead against forehead, they caused fiery sparks to come out like flashes of lightning. And grasping each other in various ways by means of their arms, and kicking each other with such violence as to affect the innermost nerves, they struck at each other's breasts with clenched fists. With bare arms as their only weapons roaring like clouds they grasped and struck each other like two mad elephants encountering each other with their trunks. Incensed at each other's blow, they fought on dragging and pushing each other and fiercely looking at each other like two wrathful lions. And each striking every limb of the other with his own and using his arms also against the other, and catching hold of each other's waist, they hurled each other to a distance. Accomplished in wrestling, the two heroes clasping each other with their arms and each dragging the other unto himself, began to press each other with great violence. The heroes then performed those grandest of all feats in wrestling called Prishtabhanga, which consisted in throwing each other down with face towards the earth and maintaining the one knocked down in that position as long as possible. And employing his arms, each also performed the feats called Sampurna-murchcha and Purna-kumbha. At times they twisted each other's arms and other limbs as if these were vegetable fibres that were to be twisted into chords. And with clenched fists they struck each other at times, pretending to aim at particular limbs while the blows descended upon other parts of the body. It was thus that those heroes fought with each other. The citizens consisting of thousands, of Brahmanas, Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, and even women and the aged, O tiger among men, came out and gathered there to behold the fight. And the crowd became so great that it was one solid mass of humanity with no space between body and body. The sound the wrestlers made by the slapping of their arms, the seizing of each other's necks for bringing each other down, and the grasping of each other's legs for dashing each other to the ground, became so loud that it resembled the roar of thunder or of falling cliffs. Both of them were foremost of mighty men, and both took great delight in such encounter. Desirous of vanquishing the other, each was on the alert for taking advantage of the slightest lapse of the other. And, O monarch, the mighty Bhima and Jarasandha fought terribly on in those lists, driving the crowd at times by the motions of their hands like Vritra and Vasava of old. Thus two heroes, dragging each other forward and pressing each other backward and with sudden jerks throwing each other face downward and sideways, mangled each other dreadfully. And at times they struck each other with their knee-joints. And addressing each other loudly in stinging speeches, they struck each other with clenched fists, the blows descending like a mass of stone upon each other. With broad shoulders and long arms and both well-skilled in wrestling encounters, they struck each other with those long arms of theirs that were like maces of iron. That encounter of the heroes commenced on the first (lunar) day of the month of Kartic (October) and the illustrious heroes fought on without intermission and food, day and night, till the thirteenth lunar day. It was on the night of the fourteenth of the lunar fortnight that the monarch of Magadha desisted from fatigue. And O king, Janardana beholding the monarch tired, addressed Bhima of terrible deeds, and as if to stimulate him said,--'O son of Kunti, a foe that is fatigued cannot be pressed for if pressed at such a time he may even die. Therefore, O son of Kunti, this king should not be oppressed by thee. On the other hand, O bull of the Bharata race, fight with him with thy arms, putting forth as much strength only as thy antagonist hath now left!' Then that slayer of hostile heroes, the son of Pandu, thus addressed by Krishna, understood the plight of Jarasandha and forthwith resolved upon taking his life. And that foremost of all men endued with strength, that prince of the Kuru race, desirous of vanquishing the hitherto unvanquished Jarasandha, mustered all his strength and courage." SECTION XXIV Vaisampayana said,--"thus addressed, Bhima firmly resolved upon slaying Jarasandha, replied unto Krishna of the Yadu race, saying,--'O tiger of the Yadu race, O Krishna, this wretch that yet stayeth before me with sufficient strength and bent upon fight, should not be forgiven by me.' Hearing these words of Vrikodara (Bhima), that tiger among men, Krishna, desiring to encourage that hero to accomplish the death of Jarasandha without any delay, answered,--'O Bhima, exhibit today upon Jarasandha the strength thou hast luckily derived, the might thou hast obtained from (thy father), the god Maruta.' Thus addressed by Krishna, Bhima, that slayer of foes, holding up in the air the powerful Jarasandha, began to whirl him on high. And, O bull of the Bharata race, having so whirled him in the air full hundred times, Bhima pressed his knee against Jarasandha's backbone and broke his body in twain. And having killed him thus, the mighty Vrikodara uttered a terrible roar. And the roar of the Pandava mingling with that death knell of Jarasandha, while he was being broken on Bhima's knee, caused a loud uproar that struck fear into the heart of every creature. And all the citizens of Magadha became dumb with terror and many women were even prematurely delivered. And hearing those roars, the people of Magadha thought that either the Himavat was tumbling down or the earth itself was being rent asunder. And those oppressors of all foes then, leaving the lifeless body of the king at the palace gate where he lay as one asleep, went out of the town. And Krishna, causing Jarasandha's car furnished with an excellent flagstaff to be made ready and making the brothers (Bhima and Arjuna) ride in it, went in and released his (imprisoned) relatives. And those kings rescued from terrible fate, rich in the possession of jewels, approaching Krishna made presents unto him of jewels and gems. And having vanquished his foe, Krishna furnished with weapons and unwounded and accompanied by the kings (he had released), came out of Girivraja riding in that celestial car (of Jarasandha). And he also who could wield the bow with both hands (Arjuna), who was incapable of being vanquished by any of the monarchs on earth, who was exceedingly handsome in person and well-skilled in the destruction of the foe, accompanied by the possessor of great strength (Bhima), came out of that fort with Krishna driving the car whereon he rode. And that best of cars, incapable of being vanquished by any king, ridden in by those warriors Bhima and Arjuna, and driven by Krishna, looked exceedingly handsome. Indeed, it was upon that car that Indra and Vishnu had fought of old in the battle (with the Asuras) in which Taraka (the wife of Vrihaspati) had become the immediate cause of much slaughter. And riding upon that car Krishna now came out of the hill-fort. Possessed of the splendour of heated gold, and decked with rows of jingling bells and furnished with wheels whose clatter was like the roar of clouds, and ever victorious in battle, and always slaughtering the foe against whom it was driven, it was that very car riding upon which Indra had slain ninety-nine Asuras of old. And those bulls among men (the three cousins) having obtained that car became exceedingly glad. The people of Magadha, behold the long-armed Krishna along with the two brothers, seated in that car (of Jarasandha) wondered much. O Bharata, that car, whereunto were yoked celestial horses and which possessed the speed of the wind, thus ridden upon by Krishna, looked exceedingly beautiful. And upon that best of cars was a flag-staff without being visibly attached thereto, and which was the product of celestial skill. And the handsome flag-staff, possessed of the splendour of the rainbow, could be seen from the distance of a yojana. And Krishna while coming out, thought of Garuda. And Garuda, thought of by his master, came thither in no time, like a tree of vast proportions standing in a village worshipped by all. Garuda of immense weight of body and living upon snakes sat upon that excellent car along with the numberless open-mouthed and frightfully-roaring creatures on its flag-staff. And thereupon that best of cars became still more dazzling with its splendour and was as incapable of being looked at by created being as the midday sun surrounded by a thousand rays. And, O king, such was that best of flag-staffs of celestial make that it never struck against any tree nor could any weapon injure it at all even though visible to men's eyes. And Achyuta, that tiger among men, riding with the two sons of Pandu upon that celestial car, the clatter of whose wheels was like the roar of the clouds, came out of Girivraja. The car upon which Krishna rode had been obtained by king Vasu from Vasava, and from Vasu by Vrihadratha, and from the latter in due course by king Jarasandha. And he of long arms and eyes like lotus-petals and possessed of illustrious reputation, coming out of Girivraja, stopped (for some time) on a level plain outside the town. And, O king, all the citizens then, with the Brahmanas at their head, hastened thither to adore him with due religious rites. And the kings who had been released from confinement worshipped the slayer of Madhu with reverence, and addressing him with eulogies said,--'O thou of long arms, thou hast to-day rescued us, sunk in the deep mire of sorrow in the hand of Jarasandha. Such an act of virtue by thee, O son of Devaki, assisted by the might of Bhima and Arjuna, is most extraordinary. O Vishnu, languishing as we all were in the terrible hill-fort of Jarasandha, it was verily from sheer good fortune alone that thou hast rescued us, O son of the Yadu race, and achieved thereby a remarkable reputation. O tiger among men, we bow down to thee. O, command us what we shall do. However difficult of accomplishment, thy command being made known to us, O lord (Krishna), it will at once be accomplished by us.' Thus addressed by the monarchs, the high-souled Hrishikesa gave them every assurance and said,--'Yudhishthira is desirous of performing the sacrifice of Rajasuya. That monarch, ever guided by virtue, is solicitous of acquiring the imperial dignity. Having known this from me assist ye him in his endeavours.' Then, O king, all those monarchs with joyous hearts accepted the words of Krishna, saying,--'So be it!' And saying this, those lords of earth made presents of jewels unto him of the Dasarha race. And Govinda, moved by kindness towards them, took a portion of those presents. "Then the son of Jarasandha, the high-souled Sahadeva, accompanied by his relatives and the principal officers of state, and with his priest in front came thither. And the prince, bending himself low and making large presents of jewels and precious stones, worshipped Vasudeva, that god among men. Then that best of men, Krishna, giving every assurance unto the prince afflicted with fear, accepted those presents of his of great value. And Krishna joyfully installed the prince there and then in the sovereignty of Magadha. And the strong-armed and illustrious son of Jarasandha, thus installed on the throne by those most exalted of men and having obtained the friendship of Krishna and treated with respect and kindness by the two sons of Pritha, re-entered the city of his father. And that bull amongst men, Krishna, accompanied by the sons of Pritha and graced with great good fortune, left the city of Magadha, laden with numerous jewels. Accompanied by the two sons of Pandu, Achyuta (Krishna) arrived at Indraprastha, and approaching Yudhishthira joyfully addressing that monarch said,--'O best of kings, from good fortune, the mighty Jarasandha hath been slain by Bhima, and the kings confined (at Girivraja) have been all set free. From good fortune also, these two, Bhima and Dhananjaya, are well and arrived, O Bharata, at their own city unwounded.' Then Yudhishthira worshipped Krishna as he deserved and embraced Bhima and Arjuna in joy. And the monarch who had no enemy, having obtained victory through the agency of his brothers in consequence of the death of Jarasandha, gave himself up to pleasure and merriment with all his brothers. And the oldest son of Pandu (Yudhisthira) together with his brothers approached the kings who had come to Indraprastha and entertaining and worshipping them, each according to his age, dismissed them all. Commanded by Yudhishthira those kings with joyful hearts, set out for their respective countries without loss of time, riding upon excellent vehicles. Thus, O king, did that tiger among men, Janardana of great intelligence, caused his foe Jarasandha to be slain through the instrumentality of the Pandavas. And, O Bharata, that chastiser of all foes having thus caused Jarasandha to be slain, took leave of Yudhishthira and Pritha, and Draupadi and Subhadra, and Bhimasena and Arjuna and the twins Nakula and Sahadeva. After taking leave of Dhananjaya also, he set out for his own city (of Dwarka), riding upon that best of cars of celestial make, possessed of the speed of the mind and given unto him by Yudhishthira, filling the ten points of the horizon with the deep rattle of its wheels. And, O bull of the Bharata race, just as Krishna was on the point of setting out, the Pandavas with Yudhishthira at their head walked round that tiger among men who was never fatigued with exertion. "And after the illustrious Krishna, the son of Devaki, had departed (from Indraprastha) having acquired that great victory and having also dispelled the fears of the kings, that feat, O Bharata, swelled the fame of the Pandavas. And, O king, the Pandavas passed their days, continuing to gladden the heart of Draupadi. And at that time, whatever was proper and consistent with virtue, pleasure, and profit, continued to be properly executed by king Yudhishthira in the exercise of his duties of protecting his subjects." SECTION XXV (Digvijaya Parva) Vaisampayana said,--"Arjuna, having obtained that best of bows and that couple of inexhaustible quivers and that car and flag-staff, as also that assembly-house, addressing Yudhisthira said,--'Bow, weapons, great energy, allies, territory, fame, army--those, O king, difficult of acquisition however desirable, have all been obtained by me. I think, therefore, that what should now be done is for the swelling up of our treasury. I desire, O best of monarchs, to make the kings (of the earth) pay tributes to us. I desire to set out, in an auspicious moment of a holy day of the moon under a favourable constellation for the conquest of the direction that is presided over by the Lord of treasures (viz. the North).'" Vaisampayana continued,--"King Yudhisthira the just, hearing these words of Dhananjaya, replied unto him in a grave and collected tone, saying,--'O bull of the Bharata race, set thou out, having made holy Brahmanas utter benedictions on thee, to plunge thy enemies in sorrow and to fill thy friend with joy. Victory, O son of Pritha, will surely be thine, and thou wilt surely obtain thy desires fulfilled.' "Thus addressed, Arjuna, surrounded by a large host, set out in that celestial car of wonderful achievements he had obtained from Agni. And Bhimasena also, and those bull among men, the twins, dismissed with affection by Yudhishthira the just set out, each at the head of a large army. And Arjuna, the son of the chastiser of Paka then brought under subjugation that direction (the North) which was presided over by the Lord of treasures. And Bhimasena overcome by force the East and Sahadeva the South, and Nakula, O king, acquainted with all the weapons, conquered the West. Thus while his brothers were so employed, the exalted king Yudishthira the just stayed within Khandavaprastha in the enjoyment of great affluence in the midst of friends and relatives." "Bhagadatta, hearing this, said,--'O thou who hast Kunto for thy mother, as thou art to me, so is Yudhishthira also. I shall do all this. Tell me, what else I may do for thee.'" SECTION XXVI Vaisampayana continued,--"thus addressed, Dhananjaya replied unto Bhagadatta, saying,--'If thou wilt give thy promise to do this, thou hast done all I desire.' And having thus subjugated the king of Pragjyotisha, Dhananjaya of long arms, the son of Kunti, then marched towards the north--the direction presided over by the lord of treasures. That bull amongst men, that son of Kunti, then conquered the mountainous tracts and their outskirts, as also the hilly regions. And having conquered all the mountains and the kings that reigned there, and bringing them under his sway, he exacted tributes from all. And winning the affections of those kings and uniting himself with them, he next marched, O king, against Vrihanta, the king of Uluka, making this earth tremble with the sound of his drums, the clatter of his chariot-wheels, and the roar of the elephants in his train. Vrihanta, however, quickly coming out of his city followed by his army consisting of four kinds of troops, gave battle to Falguna (Arjuna). And the fight that took place between Vrihanta and Dhananjaya was terrible. It so happened that Vrihanta was unable to bear the prowess of the son of Pandu. Then that invincible king of the mountainous region regarding the son of Kunti irresistible, approached him with all his wealth. Arjuna snatched out the kingdom from Vrihanta, but having made peace with him marched, accompanied by that king, against Senavindu whom he soon expelled from his kingdom. After this he subjugated Modapura, Vamadeva, Sudaman, Susankula, the Northern Ulukas, and the kings of those countries and peoples. Hereafter at the command of Yudhishthira, O monarch, Arjuna did not move from the city of Senavindu but sent his troops only and brought under his sway those five countries and peoples. For Arjuna, having arrived at Devaprastha, the city of Senavindu, took up his quarters there with his army consisting of four kinds of forces. Thence, surrounded by the kings and the peoples he had subjugated, the hero marched against king Viswagaswa--that bull of Puru's race. Having vanquished in battle the brave mountaineers, who were all great warriors, the son of Pandu, O king, then occupied with the help of his troops, the town protected by the Puru king. Having vanquished in battle the Puru king, as also the robber tribes of the mountains, the son of Pandu brought under his sway the seven tribes called Utsava-sanketa. That bull of the Kshatriya race then defeated the brave Kshatriyas of Kashmira and also king Lohita along with ten minor chiefs. Then the Trigartas, the Daravas, the Kokonadas, and various other Kshatriyas, O king, advanced against the son of Pandu. That Prince of the Kuru race then took the delightful town of Avisari, and then brought under his sway Rochamana ruling in Uraga. Then the son of Indra (Arjuna), putting forth his might, pressed the delightful town of Singhapura that was well-protected with various weapons. Then Arjuna, that bull amongst the son of Pandu, at the head of all his troops, fiercely attacked the regions called Suhma and Sumala. Then the son of Indra, endued with great prowess, after pressing them with great force, brought the Valhikas always difficult of being vanquished, under his sway. Then Falguna, the son of Pandu, taking with him a select force, defeated the Daradas along with the Kambojas. Then the exalted son of Indra vanquished the robber tribes that dwelt in the north-eastern frontier and those also that dwelt in the woods. And, O great king, the son of Indra also subjugated the allied tribes of the Lohas, the eastern Kambojas, and northern Rishikas. And the battle with the Rishikas was fierce in the extreme. Indeed, the fight that took place between them and the son of Pritha was equal to that between the gods and the Asuras in which Taraka (the wife of Vrihaspati) had become the cause of so much slaughter. And defeating, O king, the Rishikas in the field of battle, Arjuna took from them as tribute eight horses that were of the colour of the parrot's breast, as also other horses of the hues of the peacock, born in northern and other climes and endued with high speed. At last having conquered all the Himalayas and the Nishkuta mountains, that bull among men, arriving at the White mountains, encamped on its breast." SECTION XXVII Vaisampayana said,--"that heroic and foremost of the Pandavas endued with great energy, crossing the White mountains, subjugated the country of the Limpurushas ruled by Durmaputra, after a collision involving a great slaughter of Kshatriyas, and brought the region under his complete sway. Having reduced that country, the son of Indra (Arjuna) with a collected mind marched at the head of his troops to the country called Harataka, ruled by the Guhakas. Subjugating them by a policy of conciliation, the Kuru prince beheld (in that region) that excellent of lakes called Manasa and various other lakes and tanks sacred to the Rishis. And the exalted prince having arrived at the lake Manasa conquered the regions ruled by the Gandharvas that lay around the Harataka territories. Here the conqueror took, as tribute from the country, numerous excellent horses called Tittiri, Kalmasha, Manduka. At last the son of the slayer of Paka, arriving in the country of North Harivarsha desired to conquer it. Thereupon certain frontier-guards of huge bodies and endued with great strength and energy, coming to him with gallant hearts, said, 'O son of Pritha, this country can be never conquered by thee. If thou seekest thy good, return hence. He that entereth this region, if human, is sure to perish. We have been gratified with thee; O hero, thy conquests have been enough. Nor is anything to be seen here, O Arjuna, that may be conquered by thee. The Northern Kurus live here. There cannot be war here. Even if thou enterest it, thou will not be able to behold anything, for with human eyes nothing can be seen here. If, however thou seekest anything else, O Bharata tell us, O tiger among men, so that we may do thy bidding.' Thus addressed by them, Arjuna smilingly addressing them, said,--'I desire the acquisition of the imperial dignity by Yudhishthira the just, of great intelligence. If your land is shut against human beings, I shall not enter it. Let something be paid unto Yudhishthira by ye as tribute.' Hearing these words of Arjuna, they gave him as tribute many cloths and ornaments of celestial make, silks of celestial texture and skins of celestial origin. "It was thus that tiger among men subjugated the countries that lay to the North, having fought numberless battles with both Kshatriya and robber tribes. And having vanquished the chiefs and brought them under his sway he exacted from them much wealth, various gems and jewels, the horses of the species called Tittiri and Kalmasha, as also those of the colour of the parrot's wings and those that were like the peacocks in hue and all endued with the speed of the wind. And surrounded, O king, by a large army consisting of the four kinds of forces, the hero came back to the excellent city of Sakraprastha. And Partha offered the whole of that wealth, together with the animals he had brought, unto Yudhishthira the just. And commanded by the monarch, the hero retired to a chamber of the palace for rest." SECTION XXVIII Vaisampayana said,--"in the meantime, Bhimasena also endued with great energy, having obtained the assent of Yudhishthira the just marched towards the eastern direction. And the tiger among the Bharatas, possessed of great valour and ever increasing the sorrows of his foes, was accompanied by a mighty host with the full complement of elephants and horses and cars, well-armed and capable of crushing all hostile kingdoms. That tiger among men, the son of Pandu, going first into the great country of the Panchalas, began by various means to conciliate that tribe. Then that hero, that bull of the Bharata race, within a short time, vanquished the Gandakas and the Videhas. That exalted one then subjugated the Dasarnas. There in the country of the Dasarnas, the king called Sudharman with his bare arms fought a fierce battle with Bhimasena. And Bhimasena, beholding that feat of the illustrious king, appointed the mighty Sudharman as the first in command of his forces. Then Bhima of terrible prowess marched towards the east, causing the earth itself to tremble with the tread of the mighty host that followed him. Then that hero who in strength was the foremost of all strong men defeated in battle Rochamana, the king of Aswamedha, at the head of all his troops. And the son of Kunti, having vanquished that monarch by performing feats that excelled in fierceness, subjugated the eastern region. Then that prince of the Kuru race, endued with great prowess going into the country of Pulinda in the south, brought Sukumara and the king Sumitra under his sway. Then, O Janamejaya, that bull in the Bharata race, at the command of Yudhishthira the just marched against Sisupala of great energy. The king of Chedi, hearing of the intentions of the son of Pandu, came out of his city. And that chastiser of all foes then received the son of Pritha with respect. Then, O king, those bulls of the Chedi and the Kuru lines, thus met together, enquired after each other's welfare. Then, O monarch, the king of Chedi offered his kingdom unto Bhima and said smilingly,--'O sinless one, upon what art thou bent?' And Bhima thereupon represented unto him the intentions of king Yudhishthira. And Bhima dwelt there, O king, for thirty nights, duly entertained by Sisupala. And after this he set out from Chedi with his troops and vehicles." SECTION XXIX Vaisampayana said,--"that chastiser of all foes then vanquished king Srenimat of the country of Kumara, and then Vrihadvala, the king of Kosala. Then the foremost of the sons of Pandu, by performing feats excelling in fierceness, defeated the virtuous and mighty king Dirghayaghna of Ayodhya. And the exalted one then subjugated the country of Gopalakaksha and the northern Kosalas and also the king of Mallas. And the mighty one, arriving then in the moist region at the foot of the Himalayas soon brought the whole country under his sway. And that bull of Bharata race brought under control in this way diverse countries. And endued with great energy and in strength the foremost of all strong men, the son of Pandu next conquered the country of Bhallata, as also the mountain of Suktimanta that was by the side of Bhallata. Then Bhima of terrible prowess and long arms, vanquishing in battle the unretreating Suvahu the king of Kasi, brought him under complete sway. Then that bull among the sons of Pandu overcame in battle, by sheer force, the great king Kratha reigning in the region lying about Suparsa. Then the hero of great energy vanquished the Matsya and the powerful Maladas and the country called Pasubhumi that was without fear or oppression of any kind. And the long-armed hero then, coming from that land, conquered Madahara, Mahidara, and the Somadheyas, and turned his steps towards the north. And the mighty son of Kunti then subjugated, by sheer force, the country called Vatsabhumi, and the king of the Bhargas, as also the ruler of the Nishadas and Manimat and numerous other kings. Then Bhima, with scarcely any degree of exertion and very soon, vanquished the southern Mallas and the Bhagauanta mountains. And the hero next vanquished, by policy alone, the Sarmakas and the Varmakas. And that tiger among men then defeated with comparative ease that lord of earth, Janaka the king of the Videhas. And the hero then subjugated strategically the Sakas and the barbarians living in that part of the country. And the son of Pandu, sending forth expeditions from Videha, conquered the seven kings of the Kiratas living about the Indra mountain. The mighty hero then, endued with abundant energy, vanquished in battle the Submas and the Prasuhmas. And winning them over to his side, the son of Kunti, possessed of great strength, marched against Magadha. On his way he subjugated the monarchs known by the names of Danda and Dandadhara. And accompanied by those monarchs, the son of Pandu marched against Girivraja. After bringing the son of Jarasandha under his sway by conciliation and making him pay tribute, the hero then accompanied by the monarchs he had vanquished, marched against Kansa. And making the earth tremble by means of his troops consisting of the four kinds of forces, the foremost of the Pandavas then encountered Karna that slayer of foes. And, O Bharata, having subjugated Karna and brought him under his sway, the mighty hero then vanquished the powerful king of the mountainous regions. And the son of Pandu then slew in a fierce encounter, by the strength of his arms, the mighty king who dwelt in Madagiri. And the Pandava then, O king, subjugated in battle those strong and brave heroes of fierce prowess, viz., the heroic and mighty Vasudeva, the king of Pundra and king Mahaujah who reigned in Kausika-kachchha, and then attacked the king of Vanga. And having vanquished Samudrasena and king Chandrasena and Tamralipta, and also the king of the Karvatas and the ruler of the Suhmas, as also the kings that dwelt on the sea-shore, that bull among the Bharatas then conquered all Mlechchha tribes. The mighty son of the wind-god having thus conquered various countries, and exacting tributes from them all advanced towards Lohity. And the son of Pandu then made all the Mlechchha kings dwelling in the marshy regions on the sea-coast, pay tributes and various kinds of wealth, and sandal wood and aloes, and clothes and gems, and pearls and blankets and gold and silver and valuable corals. The Mlechchha kings showered upon the illustrious son of Kunti a thick downpour of wealth consisting of coins and gems counted by hundreds of millions. Then returning to Indraprastha, Bhima of terrible prowess offered the whole of that wealth unto king Yudhisthira the just." SECTION XXX Vaisampayana said,--"thus also Sahadeva, dismissed with affection by king Yudhisthira the just, marched towards the southern direction accompanied by a mighty host. Strong in strength, that mighty prince of the Kuru race, vanquishing completely at the outset the Surasenas, brought the king of Matsya under his sway. And the hero then, defeating Dantavakra, the mighty king of the Adhirajas and making him pay tribute, re-established him on his throne. The prince then brought under his sway Sukumara and then king Sumitra, and he next vanquished the other Matsyas and then the Patacharas. Endued with great intelligence, the Kuru warrior then conquered soon enough the country of the Nishadas and also the high hill called Gosringa, and that lord of earth called Srenimat. And subjugating next the country called Navarashtra, the hero marched against Kuntibhoja, who with great willingness accepted the sway of the conquering hero. And marching thence to the banks of the Charmanwati, the Kuru warrior met the son of king Jamvaka, who had, on account of old hostilities, been defeated before by Vasudeva. O Bharata, the son of Jamvaka gave battle to Sahadeva. And Sahadeva defeating the prince marched towards the south. The mighty warrior then vanquished the Sekas and others, and exacted tributes from them and also various kinds of gems and wealth. Allying himself with the vanquished tribes the prince then marched towards the countries that lay on the banks of the Narmada. And defeating there in battle the two heroic kings of Avanti, called Vinda and Anuvinda, supported by a mighty host, the mighty son of the twin gods exacted much wealth from them. After this the hero marched towards the town of Bhojakata, and there, O king of unfading glory, a fierce encounter took place between him and the king of that city for two whole days. But the son of Madri, vanquishing the invincible Bhismaka, then defeated in battle the king of Kosala and the ruler of the territories lying on the banks of the Venwa, as also the Kantarakas and the kings of the eastern Kosalas. The hero then defeating both the Natakeyas and the Heramvaks in battle, and subjugating the country of Marudha, reduced Munjagrama by sheer strength. And the son of Pandu then vanquished the mighty monarchs of the Nachinas and the Arvukas and the various forest king of that part of the country. Endued with great strength the hero then reduced to subjection king Vatadhipa. And defeating in battle the Pulindas, the hero then marched southward. And the younger brother of Nakula then fought for one whole day with the king of Pandrya. The long-armed hero having vanquished that monarch marched further to the south. And then he beheld the celebrated caves of Kishkindhya and in that region fought for seven days with the monkey-kings Mainda and Dwivida. Those illustrious kings however, without being tired in the encounter, were gratified with Sahadeva. And joyfully addressing the Kuru prince, they said,--'O tiger among the sons of Pandu, go hence, taking with the tribute from us all. Let the mission of the king Yudhishthira the just possessed of great intelligence, be accomplished without hindrance.' And taking jewels and gems from them all, the hero marched towards the city of Mahishmati, and there that bull of men did battle with king Nila. The battle that took place between king Nila and the mighty Sahadeva the son of Pandu, that slayer of hostile heroes, was fierce and terrible. And the encounter was an exceedingly bloody one, and the life of the hero himself was exposed to great risk, for the god Agni himself assisted king Nila in that fight. Then the cars, heroes, elephants, and the soldiers in their coats of mail of Sahadeva's army all appeared to be on fire. And beholding this the prince of the Kuru race became exceedingly anxious. And, O Janamejaya, at sight of this the hero could not resolve upon what he should do." Janamejaya said,--"O regenerate one, why was it that the god Agni become hostile in battle unto Sahadeva, who was fighting simply for the accomplishment of a sacrifice (and therefore, for the gratification of Agni himself)?" Vaisampayana said,--"It is said, O Janamejaya, that the god Agni while residing in Mahishmati, earned the reputation of a lover. King Nila had a daughter who was exceedingly beautiful. She used always to stay near the sacred fire of her father, causing it to blaze up with vigour. And it so happened that king Nila's fire, even if fanned, would not blaze up till agitated by the gentle breath of that girl's fair lips. And it was said in King Nila's palace and in the house of all his subjects that the god Agni desired that beautiful girl for his bride. And it so happened that he was accepted by the girl herself. One day the deity assuming the form of a Brahmana, was happily enjoying the society of the fair one, when he was discovered by the king. And the virtuous king thereupon ordered the Brahmana to be punished according to law. At this the illustrious deity flamed up in wrath. And beholding this, the king wondered much and bent his head low on the ground. And after some time the king bowing low bestowed the daughter of his upon the god Agni, disguised as a Brahmana. And the god Vibhabasu (Agni) accepting that fair-browed daughter of king Nila, became gracious unto that monarch. And Agni, the illustrious gratifier of all desires also asked the monarch to beg a boon of him. And the king begged that his troops might never be struck with panic while engaged in battle. And from that time, O king, those monarchs who from ignorance of this, desire to subjugate king Nila's city, are consumed by Hutasana (Agni). And from that time, O perpetuator of the Kuru race, the girls of the city of Mahishmati became rather unacceptable to others (as wives). And Agni by his boon granted them sexual liberty, so that the women of that town always roam about at will, each unbound to a particular husband. And, O bull of the Bharata race, from that time the monarchs (of other countries) forsake this city for fear of Agni. And the virtuous Sahadeva, beholding his troops afflicted with fear and surrounded by flames of fire, himself stood there immovable as a mountain. And purifying himself and touching water, the hero (Sahadeva) then addressed Agni, the god that sanctifieth everything, in these words,-- "'I bow unto thee, O thou whose track is always marked with smoke. These my exertions are all for thee. O thou sanctifier of all, thou art the mouth of the gods and thou art Sacrifice personified. Thou art called Pavaka because thou sanctifiest everything, and thou art Havyavahana, because thou carriest the clarified butter that is poured on thee. The Veda have sprung for ministering unto thee, and, therefore, thou art called Jataveda. Chief of the gods as thou art, thou art called Chitrabhanu, Anala, Vibhavasu, Hutasana, Jvalana, Sikhi, Vaiswanara, Pingesa, Plavanga, Bhuritejah. Thou art he from whom Kumara (Kartikeya) had his origin; thou art holy; thou art called Rudragarva and Hiranyakrit. Let thee, O Agni, grant me energy, let Vayu grant me life, let Earth grant me nourishment and strength, and let Water grant me prosperity. O Agni, thou who art the first cause of the waters, thou who art of great purity, thou for ministering unto whom the Vedas have sprung, thou who art the foremost of the deities, thou who art their mouth, O purify me by thy truth. Rishis and Brahmanas, Deities and Asuras pour clarified butter every day, according to the ordinance into thee during sacrifices. Let the rays of truth emanating from thee, while thou exhibitest thyself in those sacrifices, purify me. Smoke-bannered as thou art and possessed of flames, thou great purifier from all sins born of Vayu and ever present as thou art in all creatures, O purify me by the rays of thy truth. Having cleansed myself thus cheerfully, O exalted one, do I pray unto thee. O Agni, grant me now contentment and prosperity, and knowledge and gladness.'" Vaisampayana continued.--"He that will pour clarified butter into Agni reciting these mantras, will ever be blessed with prosperity, and having his soul under complete control will also be cleansed from all his sins. "Sahadeva, addressing Agni again, said,--'O carrier of the sacrificial libations, it behoveth thee not to obstruct a sacrifice!' Having said this, that tiger among men--the son of Madri--spreading some kusa grass on earth sat down in expectation of the (approaching) fire and in front of those terrified and anxious troops of his. And Agni, too, like the ocean that never transgresseth its continents, did not pass over his head. On the other hand approaching Sahadeva quietly and addressing that prince of the Kuru race, Agni that god of men gave him every assurance and said,--'O thou of the Kuru race, rise up from this posture. O rise up, I was only trying thee. I know all thy purpose, as also those of the son of Dharma (Yudhisthira). But, O best of the Bharata race, as long as there is a descendant of king Nila's line, so long should this town be protected by me. I will, however O son of Pandu, gratify the desires of thy heart.' And at these words of Agni, O bull of the Bharata race, the son of Madri rose up with a cheerful heart, and joining his hands and bending his head worshipped that god of fire, sanctifier of all beings. And at last, after Agni had disappeared, king Nila came there, and at the command of that deity, worshipped with due rites Sahadeva, that tiger among men--that master of battle. And Sahadeva accepted that worship and made him pay tribute. And having brought king Nila under his sway thus, the victorious son of Madri then went further towards the south. The long-armed hero then brought the king of Tripura of immeasurable energy under his sway. And next turning his forces against the Paurava kingdom, he vanquished and reduced to subjection the monarch thereof. And the prince, after this, with great efforts brought Akriti, the king of Saurashtra and preceptor of the Kausikas under his sway. The virtuous prince, while staying in the kingdom of Saurashtra sent an ambassador unto king Rukmin of Bhishmaka within the territories of Bhojakata, who, rich in possessions and intelligence, was the friend of Indra himself. And the monarch along with his son, remembering their relationship with Krishna, cheerfully accepted, O king, the sway of the son of Pandu. And the master of battle then, having exacted jewels and wealth from king Rukmin, marched further to the south. And, endued with great energy and great strength, the hero then reduced to subjection, Surparaka and Talakata, and the Dandakas also. The Kuru warrior then vanquished and brought under his subjection numberless kings of the Mlechchha tribe living on the sea coast, and the Nishadas and the cannibals and even the Karnapravarnas, and those tribes also called the Kalamukhas who were a cross between human beings and Rakshasas, and the whole of the Cole mountains, and also Surabhipatna, and the island called the Copper island, and the mountain called Ramaka. The high-souled warrior, having brought under subjection king Timingila, conquered a wild tribe known by the name of the Kerakas who were men with one leg. The son of Pandu also conquered the town of Sanjayanti and the country of the Pashandas and the Karahatakas by means of his messengers alone, and made all of them pay tributes to him. The hero brought under his subjection and exacted tributes from the Paundrayas and the Dravidas along with the Udrakeralas and the Andhras and the Talavanas, the Kalingas and the Ushtrakarnikas, and also the delightful city of Atavi and that of the Yavanas. And, O king of kings, that slayer of all foes, the virtuous and intelligent son of Madri having arrived at the sea-shore, then despatched with great assurance messengers unto the illustrious Vibhishana, the grandson of Pulastya. And the monarch willingly accepted the sway of the son of Pandu, for that intelligent and exalted king regarded it all as the act of Time. And he sent unto the son of Pandu diverse kinds of jewels and gems, and sandal and also wood, and many celestial ornaments, and much costly apparel, and many valuable pearls. And the intelligent Sahadeva, accepting them all, returned to his own kingdom. "Thus it was, O king, that slayer of all foes, having vanquished by conciliation and war numerous kings and having also made them pay tribute, came back to his own city. The bull of the Bharata race, having presented the whole of that wealth unto king Yudhisthira the just regarded himself, O Janamejaya, as crowned with success and continued to live happily." SECTION XXXI Vaisampayana said,--"I shall now recite to you the deeds and triumphs of Nakula, and how that exalted one conquered the direction that had once been subjugated by Vasudeva. The intelligent Nakula, surrounded by a large host, set out from Khandavaprastha for the west, making this earth tremble with the shouts and the leonine roars of the warriors and the deep rattle of chariot wheels. And the hero first assailed the mountainous country called Rohitaka that was dear unto (the celestial generalissimo) Kartikeya and which was delightful and prosperous and full of kine and every kind of wealth and produce. And the encounter the son of Pandu had with the Mattamyurakas of that country was fierce. And the illustrious Nakula after this, subjugated the whole of the desert country and the region known as Sairishaka full of plenty, as also that other one called Mahetta. And the hero had a fierce encounter with the royal sage Akrosa. And the son of Pandu left that part of the country having subjugated the Dasarnas, the Sivis, the Trigartas, the Amvashtas, the Malavas, the five tribes of the Karnatas, and those twice born classes that were called the Madhyamakeyas and Vattadhanas. And making circuitous journey that bull among men then conquered the (Mlechcha) tribes called the Utsava-sanketas. And the illustrious hero soon brought under subjection the mighty Gramaniya that dwelt on the shore of the sea, and the Sudras and the Abhiras that dwelt on the banks of the Saraswati, and all those tribes that lived upon fisheries, and those also that dwelt on the mountains, and the whole of the country called after the five rivers, and the mountains called Amara, and the country called Uttarayotisha and the city of Divyakutta and the tribe called Dwarapala. And the son of Pandu, by sheer force, reduced to subjection the Ramathas, the Harahunas, and various kings of the west. And while staying there Nakula sent, O Bharata, messengers unto Vasudeva. And Vasudeva with all the Yadavas accepted his sway. And the mighty hero, proceeding thence to Sakala, the city of the Madras, made his uncle Salya accept from affection the sway of the Pandavas. And, O monarch, the illustrious prince deserving the hospitality and entertainment at his uncle's hands, was well entertained by his uncle. And skilled in war, the prince, taking from Salya a large quantity of jewels and gems, left his kingdom. And the son of Pandu then reduced to subjection the fierce Mlechchas residing on the sea coast, as also the wild tribes of the Palhavas, the Kiratas, the Yavanas, and the Sakas. And having subjugated various monarchs, and making all of them pay tributes, Nakula that foremost of the Kurus, full of resources, retraced his way towards his own city. And, O king, so great was the treasure which Nakula brought that ten thousand camels could carry it with difficulty on their backs. And arriving at Indraprastha, the heroic and fortunate son of Madri presented the whole of that wealth unto Yudhishthira. "Thus, O king, did Nakula subjugate the countries that lay to the west--the direction that is presided over by the god Varuna, and that had once before been subjugated by Vasudeva himself!" SECTION XXXII (Rajasuyika Parva) Vaisampayana said,--"in consequence of the protection afforded by Yudhisthira the just, and of the truth which he ever cherished in his behaviour, as also of the check under which he kept all foes, the subjects of that virtuous monarch were all engaged in their respective avocations. And by reason of the equitable taxation and the virtuous rule of the monarch, clouds in his kingdom poured as much rain as the people desired, and the cities and the town became highly prosperous. Indeed as a consequence of the monarch's acts every affair of the kingdom, especially cattle breeding, agriculture and trade prospered highly. O king, during those days even robbers and cheats never spoke lies amongst themselves, nor they that were the favourites of the monarch. There were no droughts and floods and plagues and fires and premature deaths in those days of Yudhishthira devoted to virtue. And it was only for doing agreeable services, or for worshipping, or for offering tributes that would not impoverish, that other kings used to approach Yudhisthira (and not for hostility or battle.) The large treasure room of the king became so much filled with hoards of wealth virtuously obtained that it could not be emptied even in a hundred years. And the son of Kunti, ascertaining the state of his treasury and the extent of his possessions, fixed his heart upon the celebration of a sacrifice. His friends and officers, each separately and all together, approaching him said,--'The time hath come, O exalted one, for thy sacrifice. Let arrangements, therefore, be made without loss of time.' While they were thus talking, Hari (Krishna), that omniscient and ancient one, that soul of the Vedas, that invincible one as described by those that have knowledge, that foremost of all lasting existences in the universe, that origin of all things, as also that in which all things come to be dissolved, that lord of the past, the future, and the present Kesava--the slayer of Kesi, and the bulwark of all Vrishnis and the dispeller of all fear in times of distress and the smiter of all foes, having appointed Vasudeva to the command of the (Yadava) army, and bringing with him for the king Yudhishthira just a large mass of treasure; entered that excellent city of cities. Khandava, himself surrounded by a mighty host and filling the atmosphere with the rattle of his chariot-wheels. And Madhava, that tiger among men enhancing that limitless mass of wealth the Pandavas had by that inexhaustible ocean of gems he had brought, enhanced the sorrows of the enemies of the Pandavas. The capital of the Bharata was gladdened by Krishna's presence just as a dark region is rendered joyful by the sun or a region of still air by a gentle breeze. Approaching him joyfully and receiving him with due respect, Yudhishthira enquired of his welfare. And after Krishna had been seated at ease, that bull among men, the son of Pandu, with Dhaumya and Dwaipayana and the other sacrificial priests and with Bhima and Arjuna and the twins, addressed Krishna thus,-- "'O Krishna it is for thee that the whole earth is under my sway. And, O thou of the Vrishni race, it is through thy grace that vast wealth had been got by me. And, O son of Devaki, O Madhava, I desire to devote that wealth according to the ordinance, unto superior Brahmanas and the carrier of sacrificial libations. And, O thou of the Dasarha race, it behoveth thee, O thou of mighty arms, to grant me permission to celebrate a sacrifice along with thee and my younger brothers. Therefore, O Govinda, O thou of long arms, install thyself at that sacrifice; for, O thou of the Dasarha race, if thou performed the sacrifice, I shall be cleansed of sin. Or, O exalted one, grant permission for myself being installed at the sacrifice along with these my younger brothers, for permitted by thee, O Krishna, I shall be able to enjoy the fruit of an excellent sacrifice.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Unto Yudhisthira after he had said this, Krishna, extolling his virtues, said.--'Thou, O tiger among kings, deservest imperial dignity. Let, therefore, the great sacrifice be performed by thee. And if thou performest that sacrifice and obtainest its fruit we all shall regard ourselves as crowned with success. I am always engaged in seeking good. Perform thou then the sacrifice thou desirest. Employ me also in some office for that purpose, for I should obey all thy commands. Yudhisthira replied--O Krishna, my resolve is already crowned with fruit, and success also is surely mine, when thou, O Harishikesa, hast arrived here agreeably to my wish!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Commanded by Krishna, the son of Pandu along with his brothers set himself upon collecting the materials for the performance of the Rajasuya sacrifice. And that chastiser of all foes, the son of Pandu, then commanded Sahadeva that foremost of all warriors and all ministers also, saying,--'Let persons be appointed to collect without loss of time, all those articles which the Brahmanas have directed as necessary for the performance of this sacrifice, and all materials and auspicious necessaries that Dhaumya may order as required for it, each of the kind needed and one after another in due order. Let Indrasena and Visoka and Puru with Arjuna for his charioteer be engaged to collect food if they are to please me. Let these foremost of the Kurus also gather every article of agreeable taste and smell that may delight and attract the hearts of the Brahmanas.' "Simultaneously with these words of king Yudhisthira the just, Sahadeva that foremost of warriors, having accomplished everything, represented the matter to the king. And Dwaipayana, O king, then appointed as sacrificial priests exalted Brahmanas that were like the Vedas themselves in embodied forms. The son of Satyavati became himself the Brahma of that sacrifice. And that bull of the Dhananjaya race, Susaman, became the chanter of the Vedic (Sama) hymns. Yajnavalkya devoted to Brahma became the Adhyaryu, and Paila--the son of Vasu and Dhaumya became the Hotris. And O bull of the Bharata race, the disciples and the sons of these men, all well-acquainted with the Vedas and the branches of the Vedas, became Hotragis. And all of them, having uttered benedictions and recited the object of the sacrifice, worshipped, according to the ordinance the large sacrificial compound. Commanded by the Brahmanas, builders and artificers erected numerous edifices there that were spacious and well-perfumed like unto the temples of the gods. After these were finished, that best of kings and that bull among men Yudhishthira commanded his chief adviser Sahadeva, saying,--'Despatch thou, without loss of time, messengers endued with speed to invite all to the sacrifice. And Sahadeva, hearing these words of the king, despatched messengers telling them,--"Invite ye all the Brahmanas in the kingdom and all the owners of land (Kshatriyas) and all the Vaisyas and also all the respectable Sudras, and bring them hither!"'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Endued with speed, these messengers then, thus commanded, invited everybody according to the orders of the Pandava, without losing any time, and brought with them many persons, both friends and strangers. Then, O Bharata, the Brahmanas at the proper time installed Yudhishthira the son of Kunti at the Rajasuya sacrifice. And after the ceremony of installation was over, that foremost of men, the virtuous king Yudhishthira the just like the god Dharma himself in human frame, entered the sacrificial compound, surrounded by thousands of Brahmanas and his brothers and the relatives and friends and counsellors, and by a large number of Kshatriya kings who had come from various countries, and by the officers of State. Numerous Brahmanas, well-skilled in all branches of knowledge and versed in the Vedas and their several branches, began to pour in from various countries. Thousands of craftsmen, at the command of king Yudhishthira the just, erected for those Brahmanas with their attendants separate habitations well-provided with food and clothes and the fruits and flowers of every season. And, O king, duly worshipped by the monarch the Brahmanas continued to reside there passing their time in conversation on diverse topics and beholding the performances of actors and dancers. And the clamour of high-souled Brahmanas, cheerfully eating and talking, was heard there without intermission. 'Give,' and 'Eat' were the words that were heard there incessantly and every day. And, O Bharata, king Yudhishthira the just gave unto each of those Brahmanas thousands of kine and beds and gold coins and damsels. "Thus commenced on earth the sacrifice of that unrivalled hero, the illustrious son of Pandu, like the sacrifice in heaven of Sakra himself. Then that bull among men, king Yudhishthira despatched Nakula the son of Pandu unto Hastinapura to bring Bhishma and Drona, Dhritarashtra and Vidura and Kripa and those amongst his cousins that were well-disposed towards him." SECTION XXXIII Vaisampayana said,--"the ever-victorious Nakula, the son of Pandu, having reached Hastinapura, formally invited Bhishma and Dhritarashtra. The elder of the Kuru race with the preceptor at their head, invited with due ceremonies, came with joyous hearts to that sacrifice, with Brahmanas walking before them. And, O bull of the Bharata race, having heard of king Yudhishthira's sacrifice, hundreds of other Kshatriyas acquainted with the nature of the sacrifice, with joyous hearts came there from various countries, desiring to behold king Yudhishthira the son of Pandu and his sacrificial mansion, and brought with them many costly jewels of various kinds. And Dhritarashtra and Bhishma and Vidura of high intelligence; and all Kaurava brothers with Duryyodhana at their head; and Suvala the king of Gandhara and Sakuni endued with great strength; and Achala, and Vrishaka, and Karna that foremost of all charioteers; and Salya endued with great might and the strong Valhika; and Somadatta, and Bhuri of the Kuru race, and Bhurisravas and Sala; and Aswatthama, Kripa, Drona, and Jayadratha, the ruler of Sindhu; and Yajnasena with his sons, and Salya that lord of earth and that great car warrior king Bhagadatta of Pragjyotisha accompanied by all Mlechcha tribes inhabiting the marshy regions on the sea-shore; and many mountain kings, and king Vrihadvala; and Vasudeva the king of the Paundrayas, and the kings of Vanga and Kalinga; and Akastha and Kuntala and the kings of the Malavas and the Andhrakas; and the Dravidas and the Singhalas and the king of Kashmira, and king Kuntibhoja of great energy and king Gauravahana, and all the other heroic kings of Valhika; and Virata with his two sons, and Mavella endued with great might; and various kings and princes ruling in various countries; and, O Bharata king Sisupala endued with great energy and invincible in battle accompanied by his son--all of them came to the sacrifice of the son of Pandu. And Rama and Aniruddha and Kanaka and Sarana; and Gada, Pradyumna, Shamva, and Charudeshna of great energy; and Ulmuka and Nishatha and the brave Angavaha; and innumerable other Vrishnis--all mighty car-warriors--came there. "These and many other kings from the middle country came, O monarch, to that great Rajasuya sacrifice of the son of Pandu. And, O king, at the command of king Yudhishthira the just, mansions were assigned to all those monarchs, that were full of various kinds of edibles and adorned with tanks and tall trees. And the son of Dharma worshipped all those illustrious monarchs as they deserved. Worshipped by the king they retired to mansions that were assigned to them. Those mansions were (white and high) like the cliffs of Kailasa, and delightful to behold, and furnished with every kind of furniture. They were enclosed on all sides with well-built and high white-washed walls; their windows were covered with net-works of gold and their interiors were furnished with rows of pearls. Their flights of stairs were easy of ascent and the floors were all laid over with costly carpets. They were all hung over with garlands of flowers and perfumed with excellent aloes. White as snow or the moon, they looked extremely handsome even from the distance of a yojana. Their doors and entrances were set uniformly and were wide enough to admit a crowd of persons. Adorned with various costly articles and built with various metals, they looked like peaks of the Himavat. Having rested a while in those mansions the monarchs beheld king Yudhishthira the just surrounded by numerous Sadasyas (sacrificial priests) and ever performing sacrifices distinguished by large gifts to Brahmanas. That sacrificial mansion wherein were present the kings and Brahmanas and great Rishis looked, O king, as handsome as heaven itself crowded with the gods!" Thus ends the thirty-fourth section in the Rajasuyika Parva of the Sabha Parva. SECTION XXXIV Vaisampayana said,--"then, O king, Yudhishthira, having approached and worshipped his grandfather and his preceptor, addressed Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and the son of Drona and Duryyodhana and Vivingsati, and said,--'Help me ye all in the matter of this sacrifice. This large treasure that is here is yours. Consult ye with one another and guide me as ye desire.' "The eldest of the sons of Pandu, who had been installed at the sacrifice, having said this unto all, appointed every one of them to suitable offices. He appointed Dussasana to superintend the department of food and other enjoyable articles. Aswatthama was asked to attend on the Brahmanas. Sanjaya was appointed to offer return-worship unto the kings. Bhishma and Drona, both endued with great intelligence, were appointed to see what was done and what was left undone. And the king appointed Kripa to look after the diamonds and gold and the pearls and gems, as also after the distribution of gifts to Brahmanas. And so other tigers among men were appointed to similar offices. Valhika and Dhritarashtra and Somadatta and Jayadratha, brought thither by Nakula, went about, enjoying themselves as lords of the sacrifice. Vidura otherwise called Kshatta, conversant with every rule of morality, became the disburser. Duryyodhana became the receiver of the tributes that were brought by the kings. Krishna who was himself the centre of all worlds and round whom moved every creature, desirous of acquiring excellent fruits, was engaged at his own will in washing the feet of the Brahmanas. "And desirous of beholding that sacrificial mansion, as also king Yudhishthira the just, none came there with tribute less than a thousand (in number, weight or measure). Everyone honoured the king Yudhishthira the just with large presents of jewels. And each of the kings made a present of his wealth, flattering himself with the proud belief that the jewels he gave would enable the Kuru king Yudhisthira to complete his sacrifice. And, O monarch, the sacrificial compound of the illustrious son of Kunti looked extremely handsome--with the multitude of palaces built so as to last for ever and crowded with guards and warriors. These were so high that their tops touched the cars of the gods that came to behold that sacrifice; as also with the cars themselves of the celestials, and with the dwelling of the Brahmanas and the mansions made there for the kings resembling the cars of the celestials and adorned with gems and filled with every kind of wealth, and lastly with crowds of the kings that came there all endued with beauty and wealth. Yudhisthira, as though vying with Varuna himself in wealth, commenced the sacrifice (of Rajasuya) distinguished by six fires and large gifts to Brahmanas. The King gratified everybody with presents of great value and indeed with every kind of object that one could desire. With abundance of rice and of every kind of food, as also with a mass of jewels brought as tribute, that vast concourse consisted of persons every one of whom was fed to the full. The gods also were gratified at the sacrifice by the Ida, clarified butter, Homa and libations poured by the great Rishis versed in mantras and pronunciation. Like the gods, the Brahmanas also were gratified with the sacrificial gifts and food and great wealth. And all the other orders of men also were gratified at that sacrifice and filled with joy." SECTION XXXV (Arghyaharana Parva) Vaisampayana said,--"On the last day of the sacrifice when the king was to be sprinkled over with the sacred water, the great Brahmana Rishis ever deserving of respectful treatment, along with the invited kings, entered together the inner enclosure of the sacrificial compound. And those illustrious Rishis with Narada as their foremost, seated at their ease with those royal sages within that enclosure, looked like the gods seated in the mansion of Brahma in the company of the celestial Rishis. Endued with immeasurable energy those Rishis, having obtained leisure, started various topics of conversation. 'This is so,' 'This is not so,' 'This is even so.' 'This cannot be otherwise,'--thus did many of them engage in discussions with one another. Some amongst the disputants, by well-chosen arguments made the weaker position appear the stronger and the stronger the weaker. Some disputants endued with great intelligence fell upon the position urged by others like hawks darting at meat thrown up into the air, while some amongst them versed in the interpretations of religious treatises and others of rigid vows, and well-acquainted with every commentary and gloss engaged themselves in pleasant converse. And, O king, that platform crowded with gods, Brahmanas and great Rishis looked extremely handsome like the wide expanse of the firmament studded with stars. O monarch, there was then no Sudra near that platform of Yudhisthira's mansion, nor anybody that was without vows. "And Narada, beholding the fortunate Yudhisthira's prosperity that was born of that sacrifice, became highly gratified. Beholding that vast concourse all the Kshatriyas, the Muni Narada, O king of men, became thoughtful. And, O bull amongst men, the Rishi began to recollect the words he had heard of old in the mansion of Brahma regarding the incarnation on earth of portions of every deity. And knowing, O son of the Kuru race, that that was a concourse (of incarnate) gods, Narada thought in his mind of Hari with eyes like lotus-petals. He knew that that creator himself of every object one, that exalted of all gods--Narayana--who had formerly commanded the celestials, saying,--'Be ye born on earth and slay one another and come back to heaven'--that slayer of all the enemies of the gods, that subjugator of all hostile towns, in order to fulfil his own promise, had been born in the Kshatriya order. And Narada knew that the exalted and holy Narayana, also called Sambhu the lord of the universe, having commanded all the celestials thus, had taken his birth in the race of Yadus and that foremost of all perpetuator of races, having sprung from the line of the Andhaka-Vrishnis on earth was graced with great good fortune and was shining like the moon herself among stars. Narada knew that Hari the grinder of foes, whose strength of arm was ever praised by all the celestials with Indra among them, was then living in the world in human form. Oh, the Self-Create will himself take away (from the earth) this vast concourse of Kshatriyas endued with so much strength. Such was the vision of Narada the omniscient who knew Hari or Narayana to be that Supreme Lord whom everybody worshipped with sacrifice. And Narada, gifted with great intelligence and the foremost of all persons and conversant with morality, thinking of all this, sat at that sacrifice of the wise king Yudhisthira the just with feelings of awe. "Then Bhishma, O king, addressing king Yudhisthira the just, said, 'O Bharata, let Arghya (an article of respect) be offered unto the kings as each of them deserveth. Listen, O Yudhishthira, the preceptor, the sacrificial priest, the relative, the Snataka, the friend, and the king, it hath been said are the six that deserve Arghya. The wise have said that when any of these dwell with one for full one year he deserveth to be worshipped with Arghya. These kings have been staying with us for some time. Therefore, O king, let Arghyas be procured to be offered unto each of them. And let an Arghya be presented first of all unto him among those present who is the foremost.' "Hearing these words of Bhishma, Yudhishthira said--'O Grandsire, O thou of the Kuru race, whom thou deemest the foremost amongst these and unto whom the Arghya should be presented by us, O tell me.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Then, O Bharata, Bhishma the son of Santanu, judged it by his intelligence that on earth Krishna was the foremost of all. And he said--'As is the sun among all luminous objects, so is the one (meaning Krishna) (who shines like the sun) among us all, in consequence of his energy, strength and prowess. And this our sacrificial mansion is illuminated and gladdened by him as a sunless region by the sun, or a region of still air by a gust of breeze. Thus commanded by Bhishma, Sahadeva endued with great prowess duly presented the first Arghya of excellent ingredients unto Krishna of the Vrishni race. Krishna also accepted it according to the forms of the ordinance. But Sisupala could not bear to see that worship offered unto Vasudeva. And this mighty king of Chedi, reproving in the midst of that assembly both Bhishma and. Yudhishthira, censured Vasudeva thereafter.' SECTION XXXVI "Sisupala said--'O thou of the Kuru race, this one of the Vrishni race doth not deserve royal worship as if he were a king, in the midst of all these illustrious monarchs. O son of Pandu, this conduct of thine in thus willingly worshipping him with eyes like lotus-petals is not worthy of the illustrious Pandavas. Ye sons of Pandu. Ye are children. Ye know not what morality is, for that is very subtle. Bhishma, this son also of Ganga is of little knowledge and hath transgressed the rules of morality (by giving ye such counsel). And, O Bhishma, if one like thee, possessed of virtue and morality acteth from motives of interest, he is deserving of censure among the honest and the wise. How doth he of the Dasarha race, who is not even a king, accept worship before these kings and how is it that he hath been worshipped by ye? O bull of the Kuru race, if thou regardest Krishna as the oldest in age, here is Vasudeva, and how can his son be said so in his presence? Or, if thou regardest Vasudeva as your well-wisher and supporter, here is Drupada; how then can Madhava deserve the (first) worship? Or, O son of Kuru, regardest thou Krishna as preceptor? When Drona is here, how hast thou worshipped him of the Vrishni race? Or, O son of Kuru, regardest thou Krishna as the Ritwija? When old Dwaipayana is here, how hath Krishna been worshipped by thee? Again when old Bhishma, the son of Santanu, that foremost of men who is not to die save at his own wish is here, why, O king, hath Krishna been worshipped by thee? When the brave Aswatthaman, versed in every branch of knowledge is here, why, O king, hath Krishna, O thou of the Kuru race, been worshipped by thee? When that King of kings, Duryyodhana, that foremost of men, is here, as also Kripa the preceptor of the Bharata princes, why hath Krishna been worshipped by thee? How, O son of Pandu, passing over Druma, the preceptor of the Kimpurusas, hast thou worshipped Krishna? When the invincible Bhishmaka and king Pandya possessed of every auspicious mark, and that foremost of kings--Rukmi and Ekalavya and Salya, the king of the Madras, are here, how, O son of Pandu, hast thou offered the first worship unto Krishna? Here also is Karna ever boasting of his strength amongst all kings, and (really) endued with great might, the favourite disciple of the Brahmana Jamadagnya, the hero who vanquished in battle all monarchs by his own strength alone. How, O Bharata, hast thou, passing him over, offered the first worship unto Krishna? The slayer of Madhu is neither a sacrificial priest nor a preceptor, nor a king. That thou hast notwithstanding all these worshipped him, O chief of the Kurus, could only have been from motives of gain. If, O Bharata, it was your wish to offer the first worship unto the slayer of Madhu, why were these monarchs brought here to be insulted thus? We have not paid tributes to the illustrious son of Kunti from fear, from desire of gain, or from having been won over by conciliation. On the other hand, we have paid him tribute simply because he hath been desirous of the imperial dignity from motives of virtue. And yet he it is that thus insulteth us. O king, from what else, save motives of insult, could it have been that thou hast worshipped Krishna, who possesseth not the insignia of royalty, with the Arghya in the midst of the assembled monarchs? Indeed, the reputation for virtue that the son of Dharma hath acquired, hath been acquired by him without cause, for who would offer such undue worship unto one that hath fallen off from virtue. This wretch born in the race of the Vrishnis unrighteously slew of old the illustrious king Jarasandha. Righteousness hath today been abandoned by Yudhishthira and meanness only hath been displayed by him in consequence of his having offered the Arghya to Krishna. If the helpless sons of Kunti were affrighted and disposed to meanness, thou, O Madhava, ought to have enlightened them as to thy claims to the first worship? Why also, O Janarddana, didst thou accept the worship of which thou art unworthy, although it was offered unto thee by those mean-minded princes? Thou thinkest much of the worship unworthily offered unto thee, like a dog that lappeth in solitude a quantity of clarified butter that it hath obtained. O Janarddana, this is really no insult offered unto the monarchs; on the other hand it is thou whom the Kurus have insulted. Indeed, O slayer of Madhu, as a wife is to one that is without virile power, as a fine show is to one that is blind, so is this royal worship to thee who art no king. What Yudhishthira is, hath been seen; what Bhishma is, hath been seen; and what this Vasudeva is hath been seen. Indeed, all these have been seen as they are!' "Having spoken these words, Sisupala rose from his excellent seat, and accompanied by the kings, went out of that assembly." SECTION XXXVII Vaisampayana said,--"Then the king Yudhishthira hastily ran after Sisupala and spoke unto him sweetly and in a conciliating tone the following words,--'O lord of earth, what thou hast said is scarcely proper for thee. O king, it is highly sinful and needlessly cruel. Insult not Bhishma, O king, by saying that he doth not know what virtue is. Behold, these many kings, older than thou art, all approve of the worship offered unto Krishna. It behoveth thee to bear it patiently like them. O ruler of Chedi, Bhishma knoweth Krishna truly. Thou knowest him not so well as this one of the Kuru race.' "Bhishma also, after this, said,--'He that approveth not the worship offered unto Krishna, the oldest one in the universe, deserveth neither soft words nor conciliation. The chief of warriors of the Kshatriya race who having overcome a Kshatriya in battle and brought him under his power, setteth him free, becometh the guru (preceptor or master) of the vanquished one. I do not behold in this assembly of kings even one ruler of men who hath not been vanquished in battle by the energy of this son of the Satwata race. This one (meaning Krishna) here, of undefiled glory, deserveth to be worshipped not by ourselves alone, but being of mighty arms, he deserveth to be worshipped by the three worlds also. Innumerable warriors among Kshatriyas have been vanquished in battle by Krishna. The whole universe without limit is established in him of the Vrishni race. Therefore do we worship Krishna amongst the best and the oldest, and not others. It behoveth thee not to say so. Let thy understanding be never so. I have, O king, waited upon many persons that are old in knowledge. I have heard from all those wise men, while talking; of the numerous much-regarded attributes of the accomplished Sauri. I have also heard many times all the acts recited by people that Krishna of great intelligence hath performed since his birth. And, O king of Chedi, we do not from caprice, or keeping in view our relationship or the benefits he may confer on us, worship Janarddana who is worshipped by the good on earth and who is the source of the happiness of every creature. We have offered unto him the first worship because of his fame, his heroism, his success. There is none here of even tender years whom we have not taken into consideration. Passing over many persons that are foremost for their virtues, we have regarded Hari as deserving of the first worship. Amongst the Brahmanas one that is superior in knowledge, amongst the Kshatriyas one that is superior in strength, amongst the Vaisyas one that is superior in possessions and wealth, and amongst the Sudras one that is superior in years, deserveth to be worshipped. In the matter of the worship offered unto Govinda, there are two reasons, viz., knowledge of the Vedas and their branches, and also excess of strength. Who else is there in the world of men save Kesava that is so distinguished? Indeed, liberality, cleverness, knowledge of the Vedas, bravery, modesty, achievements, excellent intelligence, humility, beauty, firmness, contentment and prosperity--all dwell for ever in Achyuta. Therefore, ye kings, it behoveth ye to approve of the worship that hath been offered unto Krishna who is of great accomplishments, who as the preceptor, the father, the guru, is worthy of the Arghya and deserving of (everybody's) worship. Hrishikesa is the sacrificial priest, the guru, worthy of being solicited to accept one's daughter in marriage, the Snataka, the king, the friend: therefore hath Achyuta been worshipped by us. Krishna is the origin of the universe and that in which the universe is to dissolve. Indeed, this universe of mobile and immobile creatures hath sprung into existence from Krishna only. He is the unmanifest primal cause (Avyakta Prakriti), the creator, the eternal, and beyond the ken of all creatures. Therefore doth he of unfading glory deserve highest worship. The intellect, the seat of sensibility, the five elements, air, heat, water, ether, earth, and the four species of beings (oviparous, viviparous, born of filthy damp and vegetal) are all established in Krishna. The sun, the moon, the constellations, the planets, all the principal directions, the intermediate directions, are all established in Krishna. As the Agnihotra is the foremost among all Vedic sacrifices, as the Gayatri is the foremost among metres, as the king is the foremost among men, as the ocean is the foremost among all rivers, as the moon is the foremost among all constellations, as the sun is the foremost among all luminous bodies, as the Meru is the foremost among all mountains, as Garuda is the foremost among all birds, so as long as the upward, downward, and sideway course of the universe lasteth, Kesava is the foremost in all the worlds including the regions of the celestials. This Sisupala is a mere boy and hence he knoweth not Krishna, and ever and everywhere speaketh of Krishna thus. This ruler of Chedi will never see virtue in that light in which one that is desirous of acquiring high merit will see it. Who is there among the old and the young or among these illustrious lords of earth that doth not regard Krishna as deserving of worship or that doth not worship Krishna? If Sisupala regardeth this worship as undeserved, it behoveth him to do what is proper in this matter.'" SECTION XXXVIII Vaisampayana said,--"The mighty Bhishma ceased, having said this. Sahadeva then answered (Sisupala) in words of grave import, saying,--'If amongst ye there be any king that cannot bear to see Kesava of dark hue, the slayer of Kesi, the possessor of immeasurable energy, worshipped by me, this my foot is placed on the heads of all mighty ones (like him). When I say this, let that one give me an adequate reply. And let those kings that possess intelligence approve the worship of Krishna who is the preceptor, the father, the guru, and deserveth the Arghya and the worship (already offered unto him).' "When Sahadeva thus showed his foot, no one among those intelligent and wise and proud and mighty monarchs said anything. And a shower of flowers fell on Sahadeva's head, and an incorporeal voice said--'Excellent, excellent.' Then Narada clad in black deer-skin, speaking of both the future and the past, that dispeller of all doubts, fully acquainted with all the worlds, said in the midst of innumerable creatures, these words of the clearest import,--'Those men that will not worship the lotus-eyed Krishna should be regarded as dead though moving, and should never be talked to on any occasion.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Then that god among men, Sahadeva cognisant of the distinction between a Brahmana and a Kshatriya, having worshipped those that deserved worship, completed that ceremony. But upon Krishna having received the first worship, Sunitha (Sisupala) that mower of foes--with eyes red as copper from anger, addressed those rulers of men and said,--'When I am here to head ye all, what are ye thinking of now? Arrayed let us stand in battle against the assembled Vrishnis and the Pandavas?' And the bull of the Chedis, having thus stirred the kings up, began to consult with them how to obstruct the completion of the sacrifice. All the invited monarchs who had come to the sacrifice, with Sunitha as their chief, looked angry and their faces became pale. They all said, 'We must so act that the final sacrificial rite performed by Yudhishthira and the worship of Krishna may not be regarded as having been acquiesced in by us.' And impelled by a belief in their power and great assurance, the kings, deprived of reason through anger, began to say this. And being moved by self-confidence and smarting under the insult offered unto them, the monarchs repeatedly exclaimed thus. Though their friends sought to appease them, their faces glowed with anger like those of roaring lions driven away from their preys. Krishna then understood that the vast sea of monarchs with its countless waves of troops was preparing for a terrific rush." SECTION XXXIX (Sisupala-badha Parva) Vaisampayana said,--"Beholding that vast assembly of kings agitated with wrath, even like the terrific sea agitated by the winds that blow at the time of the universal dissolution, Yudhishthira addressing the aged Bhishma, that chief of intelligent men and the grandsire of the Kurus, even like Puruhita (Indra) that slayer of foes, of abundant energy addressing Vrihaspati, said,--'This vast ocean of kings, hath been agitated by wrath. Tell me, O Grandsire, what I should do in view of this. O Grandsire, now what I should do that my sacrifice may not be obstructed and my subjects may not be injured.' "When king Yudhishthira the just, conversant with morality, said this, Bhishma the grandsire of the Kurus, spoke these words in reply,--'Fear not, O tiger of the Kurus. Can the dog slay the lion? I have before this found out a way that is both beneficial and comfortable to practise. As dogs in a pack approaching the lion that is asleep bark together, so are all these lords of earth. Indeed, O child, like dogs before the lion, these (monarchs) are barking in rage before the sleeping lion of the Vrishni race. Achyuta now is like a lion that is asleep. Until he waketh up, this chief of the Chedis--this lion among men--maketh these monarchs look like lions. O child, O thou foremost of all monarchs, this Sisupala possessed of little intelligence is desirous of taking along with him all these kings, through the agency of him who is the soul of the universe, to the regions of Yama. Assuredly, O Bharata Vishnu hath been desirous of taking back unto himself the energy that existeth in this Sisupala. O Chief of all intelligent men, O son of Kunti, the intelligence of this wicked-minded king of the Chedis, as also of all these monarchs, hath become perverse. Indeed, the intelligence of all those whom this tiger among men desireth to take unto himself, becometh perverse even like that of this king of the Chedis. O Yudhishthira, Madhava is the progenitor as also the destroyer of all created beings of the four species, (oviparous, etc.,) existing in the three worlds.'" Vaisampayana continued--"Then the ruler of Chedis, having heard these words of Bhishma, addressed the latter, O Bharata, in words that were stern and rough. SECTION XL "Sisupala said,--'Old and infamous wretch of thy race, art thou not ashamed of affrighting all these monarchs with these numerous false terrors! Thou art the foremost of the Kurus, and living as thou dost in the third state (celibacy) it is but fit for thee that thou shouldst give such counsel that is so wide of morality. Like a boat tied to another boat or the blind following the blind, are the Kurus who have thee for their guide. Thou hast once more simply pained our hearts by reciting particularly the deeds of this one (Krishna), such as the slaying of Putana and others. Arrogant and ignorant as thou art, and desirous of praising Kesava, why doth not this tongue of thine split up into a hundred parts? How dost thou, superior as thou art in knowledge, desire to praise that cow-boy in respect of whom even men of little intelligence may address invectives? If Krishna in his infancy slew a vulture, what is there remarkable in that, or in that other feat of his, O Bhishma, viz., in his slaughter of Aswa and Vrishava, both of whom were unskilled in battle? If this one threw drown by a kick an inanimate piece of wood, viz., a car, what is there, O Bhishma, wonderful in that? O Bhishma, what is there remarkable in this one's having supported for a week the Govardhan mount which is like an anthill? "While sporting on the top of a mountain this one ate a large quantity of food,"--hearing these words of thine many have wondered exceedingly. But, O thou who art conversant with the rules of morality, is not this still more wrongful that that great person, viz., Kansa, whose food this one ate, hath been slain by him? Thou infamous one of the Kuru race, thou art ignorant of the rules of morality. Hast thou not ever heard, from wise men speaking unto thee, what I would now tell thee? The virtuous and the wise always instruct the honest that weapons must never be made to descend upon women and kine and Brahmanas and upon those whose food hath been taken, as also upon those whose shelter hath been enjoyed. It seemeth, O Bhishma, that all these teachings hath been thrown away by thee. O infamous one of the Kuru race, desiring to praise Kesava, thou describest him before me as great and superior in knowledge and in age, as if I knew nothing. If at thy word, O Bhishma, one that hath slain women (meaning Putana) and kine be worshipped, then what is to become of this great lesson? How can one who is such, deserve praise, O Bhishma? "This one is the foremost of all wise men,"--"This one is the lord of the universe"--hearing these words of thine, Janarddana believeth that these are all true. But surely, they are all false. The verses that a chanter sings, even if he sings them often, produce no impression on him. And every creature acts according to his disposition, even like the bird Bhulinga (that picks the particles of flesh from between the lion's teeth, though preaching against rashness). Assuredly thy disposition is very mean. There is not the least doubt about it. And so also, it seemeth, that the sons of Pandu who regard Krishna as deserving of worship and who have thee for their guide, are possessed of a sinful disposition. Possessing a knowledge of virtue, thou hast fallen off from the path of the wise. Therefore thou art sinful. Who, O Bhishma, knowing himself to be virtuous and superior in knowledge, will so act as thou hast done from motives of virtue? If thou knowest the ways of the morality, if thy mind is guided by wisdom, blessed be thou. Why then, O Bhishma, was that virtuous girl Amva, who had set her heart upon another, carried off by thee, so proud of wisdom and virtue? Thy brother Vichitravirya conformably to the ways of the honest and the virtuous, knowing that girl's condition, did not marry her though brought by thee. Boasting as thou dost of virtue, in thy very sight, upon the widow of thy brother were sons begotten by another according to the ways of the honest. Where is thy virtue, O Bhishma? This thy celibacy, which thou leadest either from ignorance or from impotence, is fruitless. O thou who art conversant with virtue, I do not behold thy well-being. Thou who expoundest morality in this way dost not seem to have ever waited upon the old. Worship, gift, study,--sacrifices distinguished by large gifts to the Brahmanas,--these all equal not in merit even one-sixteenth part of that which is obtainable by the possession of a son. The merit, O Bhishma, that is acquired by numberless vows and fasts assuredly becomes fruitless in the case of one that is childless. Thou art childless and old and the expounder of false morality. Like the swan in the story, thou shalt now die at the hands of thy relatives. Other men possessed of knowledge have said this of old. I will presently recite it fully in thy hearing. "'There lived of yore an old swan on the sea-coast. Ever speaking of morality, but otherwise in his conduct, he used to instruct the feathery tribe. "Practise ye virtue and forego sin,"--these were the words that other truthful birds, O Bhishma, constantly heard him utter. And the other oviparous creatures ranging the sea, it hath been heard by us, O Bhishma use for virtue's sake to bring him food. And, O Bhishma, all those other birds, keeping their eggs, with him, ranged and dived in the waters of the sea. And the sinful old swan, attentive to his own pursuits, used to eat up the eggs of all those birds that foolishly trusted in him. After a while when the eggs were decreasing in number, a bird of great wisdom had his suspicions roused and he even witnessed (the affair) one day. And having witnessed the sinful act of the old swan, that bird in great sorrow spoke unto all the other birds. Then, O thou best of the Kurus, all those birds witnessing with their own eyes the act of the old swan, approached that wretch of false conduct and slew him. "'Thy behaviour, O Bhishma, is even like that of the old swan. These lords of earth might slay thee in anger like those creatures of the feathery tribe slaying the old swan. Persons conversant with the Puranas recite a proverb, O Bhishma, as regards this occurrence, I shall, O Bharata, repeat it to thee fully. It is even this: O thou that supportest thyself on thy wings, though thy heart is affected (by the passions), thou preachest yet (of virtue); but this thy sinful act of eating up the eggs transgresseth thy speech!' SECTION XLI "Sisupala said,--'That mighty king Jarasandha who desired not to fight with Krishna, saying "He is a slave," was worthy of my greatest esteem. Who will regard as praiseworthy the act which was done by Kesava, as also by Bhima and Arjuna, in the matter of Jarasandha's death? Entering by an improper gate, disguised as a Brahmana, thus Krishna observed the strength of king Jarasandha. And when that monarch offered at first unto this wretch water to wash his feet, it was then that he denied his Brahmanahood from seeming motives of virtue. And when Jarasandha, O thou of the Kuru race, asked Krishna and Bhima and Dhananjaya to eat, it was this Krishna that refused that monarch's request. If this one is the lord of the universe, as this fool representeth him to be, why doth he not regard himself as a Brahmana? This, however, surpriseth me greatly that though thou leadest the Pandavas away from the path of the wise, they yet regard thee as honest. Or, perhaps, this is scarcely a matter of surprise in respect of those that have thee, O Bharata, womanish in disposition and bent down with age, for their counsellor in everything.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of Sisupala, harsh both in import and sound, that foremost of mighty men, Bhimasena endued with energy became angry. And his eyes, naturally large and expanding and like unto lotus leaves became still more extended and red as copper under the influence of that rage. And the assembled monarchs beheld on his forehead three lines of wrinkles like the Ganga of treble currents on the treble-peaked mountain. When Bhimasena began to grind his teeth in rage, the monarchs beheld his face resembling that of Death himself, at the end of the Yuga, prepared to swallow every creature. And as the hero endued with great energy of mind was about to leap up impetuously, the mighty-armed Bhishma caught him like Mahadeva seizing Mahasena (the celestial generalissimo). And, O Bharata, Bhima's wrath was soon appeased by Bhishma, the grand-sire of the Kurus, with various kinds of counsel. And Bhima, that chastiser of foes, could not disobey Bhishma's words, like the ocean that never transgresseth (even when swollen with the waters of the rainy season) its continents. But, O king, even though Bhima was angry, the brave Sisupala depending on his own manhood, did not tremble in fear. And though Bhima was leaping up impetuously every moment, Sisupala bestowed not a single thought on him, like a lion that recks not a little animal in rage. The powerful king of Chedi, beholding Bhima of terrible prowess in such rage, laughingly said,--'Release him, O Bhishma! Let all the monarchs behold him scorched by my prowess like an insect in fire.' Hearing these words of the ruler of the Chedis, Bhishma, that foremost of the Kurus and chief of all intelligent men, spoke unto Bhima these words. SECTION XLII "Bhishma said,--'This Sisupala was born in the line of the king of Chedi with three eyes and four hands. As soon as he was born, he screamed and brayed like an ass. On that account, his father and mother along with their relatives, were struck with fear. And beholding these extraordinary omens, his parents resolved to abandon him. But an incorporeal voice, about this time, said unto the king and his wife with their ministers and priest, all with hearts paralysed by anxiety, those words,--"This thy son, O king, that hath been born will become both fortunate and superior in strength. Therefore thou hast no fear from him. Indeed cherish the child without anxiety. He will not die (in childhood). His time is not yet come. He that will slay him with weapons hath also been born." Hearing these words, the mother, rendered anxious by affection for her son, addressed the invisible Being and said,--"I bow with joined hands unto him that hath uttered these words respecting my son; whether he be an exalted divinity or any other being, let him tell me another word. I desire to hear who will be the slayer of this my son." The invisible Being then said,--"He upon whose lap this child being placed the superfluous arms of his will fall down upon the ground like a pair of five-headed snakes, and at the sight of whom his third eye on the forehead will disappear, will be his slayer?" Hearing of the child's three eyes and four arms as also of the words of the invisible Being, all the kings of the earth went to Chedi to behold him. The king of Chedi worshipping, as each deserved, the monarchs that came, gave his child upon their laps one after another. And though the child was placed upon the laps of a thousand kings, one after another, yet that which the incorporeal voice had said came not to pass. And having heard of all this at Dwaravati, the mighty Yadava heroes Sankarshana and Janarddana also went to the capital of the Chedis, to see their father's sister--that daughter of the Yadavas (the queen of Chedi). And saluting everybody according to his rank and the king and queen also, and enquiring after every body's welfare, both Rama and Kesava took their seats. And after those heroes had been worshipped, the queen with great pleasure herself placed the child on the lap of Damodara. As soon as the child was placed on his lap, those superfluous arms of his fell down and the eye on his forehead also disappeared. And beholding this, the queen in alarm and anxiety begged of Krishna a boon. And she said,--"O mighty-armed Krishna, I am afflicted with fear; grant me a boon. Thou art the assurer of all afflicted ones and that the dispeller of everybody's fear." Thus addressed by her, Krishna, that son of the Yadu race, said--"Fear not, O respected one. Thou art acquainted with morality. Thou needest have no fear from me. What boon shall I give thee? What shall I do, O aunt? Whether able or not, I shall do thy bidding."--Thus spoken to by Krishna, the queen said, "O thou of great strength, thou wilt have to pardon the offences of Sisupala for my sake. O tiger of the Yadu race. Know O lord, even this is the boon that I ask." Krishna then said, "O aunt, even when he will deserve to be slain, I will pardon an hundred offences of his. Grieve thou not."' "Bhishma continued,--'Even thus, O Bhima, is this wretch of a king--Sisupala of wicked heart, who, proud of the boon granted by Govinda, summons thee to battle!' SECTION XLIII "Bhishma said,--'The will under which the ruler of Chedi summoneth thee to fight though thou art of strength that knoweth no deterioration, is scarcely his own intention. Assuredly, this is the purpose of Krishna himself, the lord of the universe. O Bhima, what king is there on earth that would dare abuse me thus, as this wretch of his race, already possessed by Death, hath done to-day? This mighty-armed one is, without doubt, a portion of Hari's energy. And surely, the Lord desireth to take back unto himself that energy of his own.' In consequence of this, O tiger of the Kuru race, this tiger-like king of Chedi, so wicked of heart, roareth in such a way caring little for us all." Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of Bhishma, the king of Chedi could bear no more. He then replied in rage unto Bhishma in these words.-- "'Let our foes, O Bhishma, be endued with that prowess which this Kesava hath, whom thou like a professional chanter of hymns praisest, rising repeatedly from thy seat. If thy mind, O Bhishma, delighteth so in praising others, then praise thou these kings, leaving off Krishna. Praise thou this excellent of kings, Darada, the ruler of Valhika, who rent this earth as soon as he was born. Praise thou, O Bhishma, this Karna, the ruler of the territories of Anga and Vanga, who is equal in strength unto him of a thousand eyes, who draweth a large bow, who endued with mighty arms owneth celestial ear-rings of heavenly make with which he was born and this coat of mail possessing the splendour of the rising sun, who vanquished in a wrestling encounter the invincible Jarasandha equal unto Vasava himself, and who tore and mangled that monarch. O Bhishma, praise Drona and Aswatthaman, who both father and son, are mighty warriors, worthy of praise, and the best of Brahmanas, and either of whom, O Bhishma, if enraged could annihilate this earth with its mobile and immobile creatures, as I believe. I do not behold, O Bhishma, the king that is equal in battle unto Drona or Aswatthaman. Why wishest thou not to praise them? Passing over Duryyodhana, that mighty-armed king of kings, who is unequalled in whole earth girt with her seas and king Jayadratha accomplished in weapons and endued with great prowess, and Druma the preceptor of the Kimpurushas and celebrated over the world for prowess, and Saradwata's son, old Kripa, the preceptor of the Bharata princes and endued with great energy, why dost thou praise Kesava? Passing over that foremost of bowmen--that excellent of kings, Rukmin of great energy, why praisest thou Kesava? Passing over Bhishmaka of abundant energy, and king Dantavakra, and Bhagadatta known for his innumerable sacrificial stakes, and Jayatsena the king of the Magadha, and Virata and Drupada, and Sakuni and Vrihadvala, and Vinda and Anuvinda of Avant Pandya, Sweta Uttama Sankhya of great prosperity, the proud Vrishasena, the powerful Ekalavya, and the great charioteer Kalinga of abundant energy, why dost thou praise Kesava? And, O Bhishma, if thy mind is always inclined to sing the praises of others, why dost thou not praise Salya and other rulers of the earth? O king, what can be done by me when (it seemeth) thou hast not heard anything before from virtuous old men giving lessons in morality? Hast thou never heard, O Bhishma, that reproach and glorification, both of self and others, are not practices of those that are respectable? There is no one that approveth thy conduct, O Bhishma, in unceasingly praising with devotion, from ignorance alone, Kesava so unworthy of praise. How dost thou, from thy wish alone, establish the whole universe in the servitor and cowherd of Bhoja (Kansa)? Perhaps, O Bharata, this thy inclination is not conformable to thy true nature, like to what may be in the bird Bhulinga, as hath already been said by me. There is a bird called Bhulinga living on the other side of the Himavat. O Bhishma, that bird ever uttereth words of adverse import. "Never do anything rash,"--this is what she always sayeth, but never understandeth that she herself always acteth very rashly. Possessed of little intelligence that bird picketh from the lion's mouth the pieces of flesh sticking between the teeth, and at a time when the lion is employed in eating. Assuredly, O Bhishma, that bird liveth at the pleasure of the lion. O sinful wretch, thou always speakest like that bird. And assuredly, O Bhishma, thou art alive at the pleasure only of these kings. Employed in acts contrary to the opinions of all, there is none else like thee!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these harsh words of the ruler of Chedi, Bhishma, O king, said in the hearing of the king of Chedi,--'Truly am I alive at the pleasure of these rulers of earth. But I do regard these kings as not equal to even a straw.' As soon as these words were spoken by Bhishma, the kings became inflamed with wrath. And the down of some amongst them stood erect and some began to reprove Bhishma. And hearing those words of Bhishma, some amongst them, that were wielders of large bows exclaimed, 'This wretched Bhishma, though old, is exceedingly boastful. He deserveth not our pardon. Therefore, ye kings, incensed with rage as this Bhishma is, it is well that this wretch were slain like an animal, or, mustering together, let us burn him in a fire of grass or straw.' Hearing these words of the monarchs, Bhishma the grand-sire of the Kurus, endued with great intelligence, addressing those lords of earth, said,--'I do not see the end of our speeches, for words may be answered with words. Therefore, ye lords of earth, listen ye all unto what I say. Whether I be slain like an animal or burnt in a fire of grass and straw, thus do I distinctly place my foot on the heads of ye all. Here is Govinda, that knoweth no deterioration. Him have we worshipped. Let him who wisheth for speedy death, summon to battle Madhava of dark hue and the wielder of the discus and the mace; and falling enter into and mingle with the body of this god!'" SECTION XLIV Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing these words of Bhishma, the ruler of Chedi endued with exceeding prowess, desirous of combating with Vasudeva addressed him and said,--'O Janarddana, I challenge thee. Come, fight with me until I slay thee today with all the Pandavas. For, O Krishna, the sons of Pandu also, who disregarding the claims of all these kings, have worshipped thee who art no king, deserve to be slain by me along with thee. Even this is my opinion, O Krishna, that they who from childishness have worshipped thee, as if thou deservest it, although thou art unworthy of worship, being only a slave and a wretch and no king, deserve to be slain by me.' Having said this, that tiger among kings stood there roaring in anger. And after Sisupala had ceased, Krishna addressing all the kings in the presence of the Pandavas, spoke these words in a soft voice.--'Ye kings, this wicked-minded one, who is the son of a daughter of the Satwata race, is a great enemy of us of the Satwata race; and though we never seek to injure him, he ever seeketh our evil. This wretch of cruel deeds, ye kings, hearing that we had gone to the city of Pragjyotisha, came and burnt Dwaraka, although he is the son of my father's sister. While king Bhoja was sporting on the Raivataka hill, this one fell upon the attendants of that king and slew and led away many of them in chains to his own city. Sinful in all his purpose, this wretch, in order to obstruct the sacrifice of my father, stole the sacrificial horse of the horse-sacrifice that had been let loose under the guard of armed men. Prompted by sinful motives, this one ravished the reluctant wife of the innocent Vabhru (Akrura) on her way from Dwaraka to the country of the Sauviras. This injurer of his maternal uncle, disguising himself in the attire of the king of Karusha, ravished also the innocent Bhadra, the princess of Visala, the intended bride of king Karusha. I have patiently borne all these sorrows for the sake of my father's sister. It is, however, very fortunate that all this hath occurred today in the presence of all the kings. Behold ye all today the hostility this one beareth towards me. And know ye also all that he hath done me at my back. For the excess of that pride in which he hath indulged in the presence of all these monarchs, he deserveth to be slain by me. I am ill able to pardon today the injuries that he hath done me. Desirous of speedy death, this fool had desired Rukmini. But the fool obtained her not, like a Sudra failing to obtain the audition of the Vedas.' Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of Vasudeva, all the assembled monarchs began to reprove the ruler of Chedi. But the powerful Sisupala, having heard these words, laughed aloud and spoke thus,--'O Krishna, art thou not ashamed in saying in this assembly, especially before all these kings that Rukmini (thy wife) had been coveted by me? O slayer of Madhu, who else is there than thee, who regarding himself a man would say in the midst of respectable men that his wife had been intended for some body else? O Krishna, pardon me if thou pleasest, or pardon me not. But angry or friendly, what canst thou do unto me?' "And while Sisupala was speaking thus, the exalted slayer of Madhu thought in his mind of the discus that humbleth the pride of the Asuras. And as soon as the discus came into his hands, skilled in speech the illustrious one loudly uttered these words,--'Listen ye lords of earth, why this one had hitherto been pardoned by me. As asked by his mother, a hundred offences (of his) were to be pardoned by me. Even this was the boon she had asked, and even this I granted her. That number, ye kings, hath become full. I shall now slay him in your presence, ye monarchs.' Having said this, the chief of the Yadus, that slayer of all foes, in anger, instantly cut off the head of the ruler of Chedi by means of his discus. And the mighty-armed one fell down like a cliff struck with thunder. And, O monarch, the assembled kings then beheld a fierce energy, like unto the sun in the sky, issue out of the body of the king of Chedi, and O king, that energy then adored Krishna, possessed of eyes like lotus leaves and worshipped by all the worlds, and entered his body. And all the kings beholding the energy which entered that mighty-armed chief of men regarded it as wonderful. And when Krishna had slain the king of Chedi, the sky, though cloudless, poured showers of rain, and blasting thunders were hurled, and the earth itself began to tremble. There were some among the kings who spoke not a word during those unspeakable moments but merely sat gazing at Janarddana. And some there were that rubbed in rage their palms with their forefingers. And there were others who deprived of reason by rage bit their lips with their teeth. And some amongst the kings applauded him of the Vrishni race in private. And some there were that became excited with anger; while others became mediators. The great Rishis with pleased hearts praised Kesava and went away. And all the high-souled Brahmanas and the mighty kings that were there, beholding Krishna's prowess, became glad at heart and praised him. "Yudhishthira then commanded his brothers to perform without delay the funeral rites of king Sisupala, the brave son of Damaghosha, with proper respect. The sons of Pandu obeyed the behest of their brother. And Yudhishthira then, with all the kings, installed the son of king Sisupala in the sovereignty of the Chedis. "Then that sacrifice, O monarch, of the king of the Kurus possessed of great energy, blessed with every kind of prosperity, became exceedingly handsome and pleasing unto all young men. And commenced auspiciously, and all impediments removed, and furnished with abundance of wealth and corn, as also with plenty of rice and every kind of food, it was properly watched by Kesava. And Yudhishthira in due time completed the great sacrifice. And the mighty-armed Janarddana, the exalted Sauri, with his bow called Saranga and his discus and mace, guarded that sacrifice till its completion. And all the Kshatriya monarchs, having approached the virtuous Yudhishthira who had bathed after the conclusion of the sacrifice, said these words: 'By good fortune thou hast come out successful. O virtuous one, thou hast obtained the imperial dignity. O thou of the Ajamida race, by thee hath been spread the fame of thy whole race. And, O king of kings, by this act of thine, thou hast also acquired great religious merit. We have been worshipped by thee to the full extent of our desires. We now tell thee that we are desirous of returning to our own kingdoms. It behoveth thee to grant us permission.' "Hearing these words of the monarchs, king Yudhishthira the just, worshipping each as he deserved, commanded his brothers, saying, 'These monarchs had all come to us at their own pleasure. These chastisers of foes are now desirous of returning to their own kingdoms, bidding me farewell. Blest be ye, follow ye these excellent kings to the confines of our own dominions.' Hearing these words of their brother, the virtuous Pandava princes followed the kings, one after another as each deserved. The powerful Dhrishtadyumna followed without loss of time king Virata: and Dhananjaya followed the illustrious and mighty charioteer Yajnasena; and the mighty Bhimasena followed Bhishma and Dhritarashtra: and Sahadeva, that master of battle, followed the brave Drona and his son; and Nakula, O king, followed Suvala with his son; and the sons of Draupadi with the son of Subhadra followed those mighty warriors--the kings of the mountainous countries. And other bulls among Kshatriyas followed other Kshatriyas. And the Brahmanas by thousands also went away, duly worshipped. "After all the Kings and the Brahmanas had gone away, the powerful Vasudeva addressing Yudhishthira said,--'O son of the Kuru race, with thy leave, I also desire to go to Dwaraka. By great good fortune, thou hast accomplished the foremost of sacrifices--Rajasuya!' Thus addressed by Janarddana, Yudhishthira replied, 'Owing to thy grace, O Govinda, I have accomplished the great sacrifice. And it is owing to thy grace that the whole Kshatriya world having accepted my sway, had come hither with valuable tribute. O hero, without thee, my heart never feeleth any delight. How can I, therefore, O hero, give thee, O sinless one, leave to go? But thou must have to go to the city of Dwaraka.' The virtuous Hari of worldwide fame, thus addressed by Yudhishthira, cheerfully went with his cousin to Pritha and said,--'O aunt, thy sons have now obtained the imperial dignity. They have obtained vast wealth and been also crowned with success. Be pleased with all this. Commanded by thee, O aunt, I desire to go to Dwaraka.' After this, Kesava bade farewell to Draupadi and Subhadra. Coming out then of the inner apartments accompanied by Yudhishthira, he performed his ablutions and went through the daily rites of worship, and then made the Brahmanas utter benedictions. Then the mighty armed Daruka came there with a car of excellent design and body resembling the clouds. And beholding that Garuda-bannered car arrived thither, the high-souled one, with eyes like lotus leaves, walked round it respectfully and ascending on it set out for Dwaravati. And king Yudhishthira the just, blessed with prosperity, accompanied by his brothers, followed on foot the mighty Vasudeva. Then Hari with eyes like lotus leaves, stopping that best of cars for a moment, addressing Yudhishthira the son of Kunti, said,--'O king of kings, cherishest thou thy subjects with ceaseless vigilance and patience. And as the clouds are unto all creatures, as the large tree of spreading bough is unto birds, as he of a thousand eyes is unto the immortals, be thou the refuge and support of thy relatives.' And Krishna and Yudhishthira having thus talked unto each other took each other's leave and returned to their respective homes. And, O king, after the chief of the Satwata race had gone to Dwaravati, king Duryodhana alone, with king Suvala's son, Sakuni,--these bulls among men,--continued to live in that celestial assembly house." SECTION XLV (Dyuta Parva) Vaisampayana said,--"when that foremost of sacrifices, the Rajasuya so difficult of accomplishment, was completed, Vyasa surrounded by his disciples presented himself before Yudhishthira. And Yudhishthira, upon beholding him quickly rose from his seat, surrounded by his brothers, and worshipped the Rishi who was his grand-father, with water to wash his feet and the offer of a seat. The illustrious one having taken his seat on a costly carpet inlaid with gold, addressed king Yudhishthira the just and said.--'Take thy seat'. And after the king had taken his seat surrounded by his brothers, the illustrious Vyasa, truthful in speech said,--'O son of Kunti, thou growest from good fortune. Thou hast obtained imperial sway so difficult of acquisition. And O perpetuator of the Kuru race, all the Kauravas have prospered in consequence of thee. O Emperor, I have been duly worshipped. I desire now to go with thy leave!' King Yudhishthira the just, thus addressed by the Rishi of dark hue, saluted (him) his grandfather and touching his feet said,--'O chief of men, a doubt difficult of being dispelled, hath risen within me. O bull among regenerate ones, save thee there is none to remove it. The illustrious Rishi Narada said that (as a consequence of the Rajasuya sacrifice) three kinds of portents, viz., celestial, atmospherical and terrestrial ones happen. O grandsire, have those portents been ended by the fall of the king of the Chedis?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of the king, the exalted son of Parasara, the island-born Vyasa of dark hue, spoke these words,--'For thirteen years, O king, those portents will bear mighty consequences ending in destruction, O king of kings, of all the Kshatriyas. In course of time, O bull of the Bharata race, making thee the sole cause, the assembled Kshatriyas of the world will be destroyed, O Bharata, for the sins of Duryodhana and through the might of Bhima and Arjuna. In thy dream, O king of kings thou wilt behold towards the end of this might the blue throated Bhava, the slayer of Tripura, ever absorbed in meditation, having the bull for his mark, drinking off the human skull, and fierce and terrible, that lord of all creatures, that god of gods, the husband of Uma, otherwise called Hara and Sarva, and Vrisha, armed with the trident and the bow called Pinaka, and attired in tiger skin. And thou wilt behold Siva, tall and white as the Kailasa cliff and seated on his bull, gazing unceasingly towards the direction (south) presided over by the king of the Pitris. Even this will be the dream thou wilt dream today, O king of kings. Do not grieve for dreaming such a dream. None can rise superior to the influence of Time. Blest be thou! I will now proceed towards the Kailasa mountain. Rule thou the earth with vigilance and steadiness, patiently bearing every privation!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Having said this, the illustrious and island-born Vyasa of dark hue, accompanied by his disciples ever following the dictates of the Vedas, proceeded towards Kailasa. And after the grand-father had thus gone away, the king afflicted with anxiety and grief, began to think continuously upon what the Rishi hath said. And he said to himself, 'Indeed what the Rishi hath said must come to pass. We will succeed in warding off the fates by exertion alone?' Then Yudhishthira endued with great energy addressing all his brothers, said, 'Ye tigers among men, ye have heard what the island-born Rishi hath told me. Having heard the words of the Rishi, I have arrived at this firm resolution viz., that I should die, as I am ordained to be the cause of the destruction of all Kshatriyas. Ye my dear ones, if Time hath intended so what need is there for me to live?' Hearing these words of the king, Arjuna replied, 'O king, yield not thyself to this terrible depression that is destructive of reason. Mustering fortitude, O great king, do what would be beneficial.' Yudhishthira then, firm in truth, thinking all the while of Dwaipayana's words answered his brothers thus,--'Blest be ye. Listen to my vow from this day. For thirteen years, what ever purpose have I to live for, I shall not speak a hard word to my brothers or to any of the kings of the earth. Living under the command of my relatives, I shall practise virtue, exemplifying my vow. If I live in this way, making no distinction between my own children and others, there will be no disagreement (between me and others). It is disagreement that is the cause of war in the world. Keeping war at a distance, and ever doing what is agreeable to others, evil reputation will not be mine in the world, ye bulls among men.' Hearing these words of their eldest brother, the Pandavas, always engaged in doing what was agreeable to him, approved of them. And Yudhishthira the just, having pledged so, along with his brothers in the midst of that assembly, gratified his priests as also the gods with due ceremonies. And, O bull of the Bharata race, after all the monarchs had gone away, Yudhishthira along with his brothers, having performed the usual auspicious rites, accompanied by his ministers entered his own palace. And, O ruler of men, king Duryodhana and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, continued to dwell in that delightful assembly house." SECTION XLVI Vaisampayana said,--"That bull among men, Duryodhana, continued to dwell in that assembly house (of the Pandavas). And with Sakuni, the Kuru prince slowly examined the whole of that mansion, and the Kuru prince beheld in it many celestial designs, which he had never seen before in the city called after the elephant (Hastinapore). And one day king Duryodhana in going round that mansion came upon a crystal surface. And the king, from ignorance, mistaking it for a pool of water, drew up his clothes. And afterwards finding out his mistake the king wandered about the mansion in great sorrow. And sometime after, the king, mistaking a lake of crystal water adorned with lotuses of crystal petals for land, fell into it with all his clothes on. Beholding Duryodhana fallen into the lake, the mighty Bhima laughed aloud as also the menials of the palace. And the servants, at the command of the king, soon brought him dry and handsome clothes. Beholding the plight of Duryodhana, the mighty Bhima and Arjuna and both the twins--all laughed aloud. Being unused to putting up with insults, Duryodhana could not bear that laugh of theirs. Concealing his emotions he even did not cast his looks on them. And beholding the monarch once more draw up his clothes to cross a piece of dry land which he had mistaken for water, they all laughed again. And the king sometime after mistook a closed door made of crystal as open. And as he was about to pass through it his head struck against it, and he stood with his brain reeling. And mistaking as closed another door made of crystal that was really open, the king in attempting to open it with stretched hands, tumbled down. And coming upon another door that was really open, the king thinking it as closed, went away from it. And, O monarch, king Duryodhana beholding that vast wealth in the Rajasuya sacrifice and having become the victim of those numerous errors within the assembly house at last returned, with the leave of the Pandavas, to Hastinapore." "And the heart of king Duryodhana, afflicted at sight of the prosperity of the Pandavas, became inclined to sin, as he proceeded towards his city reflecting on all he had seen and suffered. And beholding the Pandavas happy and all the kings of the earth paying homage to them, as also everybody, young and old, engaged in doing good unto them, and reflecting also on the splendour and prosperity of the illustrious sons of Pandu, Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, became pale. In proceeding (to his city) with an efflicted heart, the prince thought of nothing else but that assembly house and that unrivalled prosperity of the wise Yudhishthira. And Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, was so taken up with his thoughts then that he spoke not a word to Suvala's son even though the latter addressed him repeatedly. And Sakuni, beholding him absent-minded, said,--'O Duryodhana, why art thou proceeding thus'? "Duryodhana replied,--'O uncle, beholding this whole earth owning the sway of Yudhishthira in consequence of the might of the illustrious Arjuna's weapons and beholding also that sacrifice of the son of Pritha like unto the sacrifice of Sakra himself of great glory among the celestials, I, being filled with jealousy and burning day and night, am being dried up like a shallow tank in the summer season. Behold, when Sisupala was slain by the chief of the Satwatas, there was no man to take the side of Sisupala. Consumed by the fire of the Pandava, they all forgave that offence; otherwise who is there that could forgive it? That highly improper act of grave consequence done by Vasudeva succeeded in consequence of the power of the illustrious son of Pandu. And so many monarchs also brought with them various kinds of wealth for king Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, like tribute-paying Vaisyas! Beholding Yudhishthira's prosperity of such splendour, my heart burneth, efflicted with jealously, although it behoveth me not to be jealous.' "Having reflected in this way, Duryodhana, as if burnt by fire, addressed the king of Gandhara again and said,--'I shall throw myself upon a flaming fire or swallow poison or drown myself in water. I cannot live. What man is there in the world possessed of vigour who can bear to see his foes in the enjoyment of prosperity and himself in destitution? Therefore I who bear to see that accession of prosperity and fortune (in my foes) am neither a woman nor one that is not a woman, neither also a man nor one that is not a man. Beholding their sovereignty over the world and vast affluence, as also that sacrifice, who is there like me that would not smart under all that? Alone I am incapable of acquiring such royal prosperity; nor do I behold allies that could help me in the matter. It is for this that I am thinking of self-destruction. Beholding that great and serene prosperity of the son of Kunti, I regard Fate as supreme and exertions fruitless. O son of Suvala, formerly I strove to compass his destruction. But baffling all my efforts he hath grown in prosperity even like the lotus from within a pool of water. It is for this that I regard Fate as supreme and exertions fruitless. Behold, the sons of Dhritarashtra are decaying and the sons of Pritha are growing day by day. Beholding that prosperity of the Pandavas, and that assembly house of theirs, and those menials laughing at me, my heart burneth as if it were on fire. Therefore, O uncle, know me now as deeply grieved and filled with jealousy, and speak of it to Dhritarashtra.' SECTION XLVII "Sakuni said.--'O Duryodhana, thou shouldst not be jealous of Yudhishthira. The sons of Pandu are enjoying what they deserve in consequence of their own good fortune. O slayer of foes, O great king, thou couldst not destroy them by repeatedly devising numberless plans, many of which thou hadst even put to practice. Those tigers among men out of sheer luck escaped all those machinations. They have obtained Draupadi for wife and Drupada with his sons as also Vasudeva of great prowess as allies, capable of helping them in subjugating the whole world. And O king, having inherited the paternal share of the kingdom without being deprived of it they have grown in consequence of their own energy. What is there to make thee sorry for this? Having gratified Hustasana, Dhananjaya hath obtained the bow Gandiva and the couple of inexhaustible quivers and many celestial weapons. With that unique bow and by the strength of his own arms also he hath brought all the kings of the world under his sway. What is there to make thee sorry for this? Having saved the Asura Maya from a conflagration, Arjuna, that slayer of foes, using both his hands with equal skill, caused him to build that assembly house. And it is for this also that commanded by Maya, those grim Rakshasas called Kinkaras supported that assembly house. What is there in this to make thee sorry? Thou hast said, O king, that thou art without allies. This, O Bharata, is not true. These thy brothers are obedient to thee. Drona of great prowess and wielding the large bow along with his son, Radha's son Karna, the great warrior Gautama (Kripa), myself with my brothers and king Saumadatti--these are thy allies. Uniting thyself with these, conquer thou the whole of the earth.' "Duryodhana said,--'O king, with thee, as also with these great warriors, I shall subjugate the Pandavas, if it pleases thee. If I can now subjugate them, the world will be mine and all the monarchs, and that assembly house so full of wealth.' "Sakuni replied,--'Dhananjaya and Vasudeva, Bhimasena and Yudhishthira, Nakula and Sahadeva and Drupada with his sons,--these cannot be vanquished in battle by even the celestials, for they are all great warriors wielding the largest bows, accomplished in weapons, and delighting in battle. But, O king, I know the means by which Yudhishthira himself may be vanquished. Listen to me and adopt it.' "Duryodhana said,--'without danger to our friends and other illustrious men, O uncle, tell me if there is any way by which I may vanquish him.' "Sakuni said,--'The son of Kunti is very fond of dice-play although he doth not know how to play. That king if asked to play, is ill able to refuse. I am skillful at dice. There is none equal to me in this respect on earth, no, not even in the three worlds, O son of Kuru. Therefore, ask him to play at dice. Skilled at dice, I will win his kingdom, and that splendid prosperity of his for thee, O bull among men. But, O Duryodhana, represent all this unto the king (Dhritarashtra). Commanded by thy father I will win without doubt the whole of Yudhishthira's possessions.' "Duryodhana said 'O son of Suvala, thou thyself represent properly all this to Dhritarashtra, the chief of the Kurus. I shall not be able to do so.'" SECTION XLVIII Vaisampayana said--"O king, impressed with the great Rajasuya sacrifice of king Yudhishthira, Sakuni, the son of Suvala, having learnt before the intentions of Duryodhana, while accompanying him in the way from the assembly house, and desirous of saying what was agreeable to him, approached Dhritarashtra endued with great wisdom, and finding the monarch deprived of his eye seated (in his throne), told him these words,--'Know, O great king, O bull of the Bharata race, that Duryodhana, having lost colour, hath become pale and emaciated and depressed and a prey to anxiety. Why dost thou not, after due enquiry, ascertain the grief that is in the heart of thy eldest son, the grief that is caused by the foe?' "Dhritarashtra said,--'Duryodhana, what is the reason of thy great affliction, O son of the Kuru race? If it is fit for me to hear it, then tell me the reason. This Sakuni here says that thou hast lost colour, become pale and emaciated, and a prey to anxiety. I do not know what can be the reason of the sorrow. This vast wealth of mine is at thy control. Thy brothers and all our relations never do anything that is disagreeable to thee. Thou wearest the best apparel and eatest the best food that is prepared with meat. The best of horse carries thee. What it is, therefore, that hath made thee pale and emaciated? Costly beds, beautiful damsels, mansions decked with excellent furniture, and sport of the delightful kind, without doubt these all wait but at thy command, as in the case of the gods themselves. Therefore, O proud one, why dost thou grieve, O son, as if thou wert destitute.' "Duryodhana said,--'I eat and dress myself like a wretch and pass my time all the while a prey to fierce jealousy. He indeed is a man, who incapable of bearing the pride of the foe, liveth having vanquished that foe with the desire of liberating his own subjects from the tyranny of the foe. Contentment, as also pride, O Bharata, are destructive of prosperity; and those other two qualities also, viz., compassion and fear. One who acteth under the influence of these, never obtaineth anything high. Having beheld Yudhishthira's prosperity, whatever I enjoy brings me no gratification. The prosperity of Kunti's son that is possessed of such splendour maketh me pale. Knowing the affluence of the foe and my own destitution, even though that affluence is not before me, I yet see it before me. Therefore, have I lost colour and become melancholy, pale and emaciated. Yudhishthira supporteth eighty-eight thousand Snataka Brahmanas leading domestic lives, giving unto each of them thirty slave-girls. Beside this, thousand other Brahmanas daily eat at his palace the best of food on golden plates. The king of Kambhoja sent unto him (as tribute) innumerable skins, black, darkish, and red, of the deer Kadali, as also numberless blankets of excellent textures. And hundreds and thousands and thousands of she-elephants and thirty thousand she-camels wander within the palace, for the kings of the earth brought them all as tribute to the capital of the Pandavas. And, O lord of earth, the kings also brought unto this foremost of sacrifices heaps upon heaps of jewels and gems for the son of Kunti. Never before did I see or hear of such enormous wealth as was brought unto the sacrifice of the intelligent sons of Pandu. And, O king, beholding that enormous collection of wealth belonging to the foe, I can not enjoy peace of mind. Hundreds of Brahmanas supported by the grants that Yudhishthira hath given them and possessing wealth of kine, waited at the palace gate with three thousands of millions of tribute but were prevented by the keepers from entering the mansion. Bringing with them clarified butter in handsome Kamandalus made of gold, they did not obtain admission into the palace, and Ocean himself brought unto him in vessels of white copper the nectar that is generated within his waters and which is much superior to that which flowers and annual plants produce for Sakra. And Vasudeva (at the conclusion of the sacrifice) having brought an excellent conch bathed the Sun of Pritha with sea water brought in thousand jars of gold, all well adorned with numerous gems. Beholding all this I became feverish with jealousy. Those jars had been taken to the Eastern and the Southern oceans. And they had also been taken on the shoulders of men to the Western ocean, O bull among men. And, O father, although none but birds only can go to the Northern region Arjuna, having gone thither, exacted as tribute a vast quantity of wealth. There is another wonderful incident also which I will relate to thee. O listen to me. When a hundred thousand Brahmanas were fed, it had been arranged that to notify this act every day conches would be blown in a chorus. But, O Bharata, I continually heard conches blown there almost repeatedly. And hearing those notes my hair stood on end. And, O great king, that palatial compound, filled with innumerable monarchs that came there as spectators, looked exceedingly handsome like the cloudless firmament with stars. And, O king of men, the monarchs came into that sacrifice of the wise son of Pandu bringing with them every kind of wealth. And the kings that came there became like Vaisyas the distributors of food unto the Brahmanas that were fed. And O king, the prosperity that I beheld of Yudhishthira was such that neither the chief himself of the celestials, nor Yama or Varuna, nor the lord of the Guhyakas owneth the same. And beholding that great prosperity of the son of Pandu, my heart burneth and I cannot enjoy peace.' "Hearing these words of Duryodhana, Sakuni replied,--'Hear how thou mayest obtain this unrivalled prosperity that thou beholdest in the son of Pandu, O thou that hast truth for thy prowess. O Bharata, I am an adept at dice, superior to all in the world. I can ascertain the success or otherwise of every throw, and when to stake and when not. I have special knowledge of the game. The Son of Kunti also is fond of dice playing though he possesseth little skill in it. Summoned to play or battle, he is sure to come forward, and I will defeat him repeatedly at every throw by practising deception. I promise to win all that wealth of his, and thou, O Duryodhana, shalt then enjoy the same.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"King Duryodhana, thus addressed by Sakuni, without allowing a moment to elapse, said unto Dhritarashtra,--'This, Sakuni, an adept at dice, is ready to win at dice, O king, the wealth of the sons of Pandu. It behoveth thee to grant him permission to do so.' "Dhritarashtra replied,--'I always follow the counsels of Kshatta, my minister possessed of great wisdom. Having consulted with him, I will inform thee what my judgment is in respect of this affair. Endued with great foresight, he will, keeping morality before his eyes, tell us what is good and what is proper for both parties, and what should be done in this matter.' "Duryodhana said,--'If thou consultest with Kshatta he will make thee desist. And if thou desist, O king, I will certainly kill myself. And when I am dead, O king, thou wilt become happy with Vidura. Thou wilt then enjoy the whole earth; what need hast thou with me?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Dhritarashtra, hearing these words of affliction uttered by Duryodhana from mixed feeling, himself ready to what Duryodhana had dictated, commanded his servant, saying,--'Let artificers be employed to erect without delay a delightful and handsome and spacious palace with an hundred doors and a thousand columns. And having brought carpenters and joiners, set ye jewels and precious stones all over the walls. And making it handsome and easy of access, report to me when everything is complete.' And, O monarch, king Dhritarashtra having made this resolution for the pacification of Duryodhana, sent messengers unto Vidura for summoning him. For without taking counsel with Vidura never did the monarch form any resolution. But as regards the matter at hand, the king although he knew the evils of gambling, was yet attracted towards it. The intelligent Vidura, however, as soon as he heard of it, knew that the arrival of Kali was at hand. And seeing that the way to destruction was about to open, he quickly came to Dhritarashtra. And Vidura approaching his illustrious eldest brother and bowing down unto his feet, said these words: "'O exalted king, I do not approve of this resolution that thou hast formed. It behave thee, O king, to act in such a way that no dispute may arise between thy children on account of this gambling match.' "Dhritarashtra replied,--'O Kshatta, if the gods be merciful unto us, assuredly no dispute will ever arise amongst my sons. Therefore, auspicious or otherwise, beneficial or otherwise, let this friendly challenge at dice proceed. Even this without doubt is what fate hath ordained for us. And, O son of the Bharata race, when I am near, and Drona and Bhishma and thou too, nothing evil that even Fate might have ordained is likely to happen. Therefore, go thou on a car yoking thereto horses endued with the speed of the wind, so that thou mayest reach Khandavaprastha even today and bring thou Yudhishthira with thee. And, O Vidura, I tell that even this is my resolution. Tell me nothing. I regard Fate as supreme which bringeth all this.' Hearing these words of Dhritarashtra and concluding that his race was doomed, Vidura in great sorrow went unto Bhishma with great wisdom." SECTION XLIX Janamejaya said,--"O thou foremost of all conversant with the Vedas, how did that game at dice take place, fraught with such evil to the cousins and through which my grand-sires, the son of Pandu, were plunged into such sorrow? What kings also were present in that assembly, and who amongst them approved of the gambling match and who amongst them forbade it? O sinless one, O chief of regenerate ones, I desire thee to recite in detail all about this, which, indeed, was the cause of the destruction of the world." Santi said,--"Thus addressed by the king, the disciple of Vyasa, endued with great energy and conversant with the entire Vedas, narrated everything that had happened." Vaisampayana said,--"O best of the Bharatas, O great king, if thou desirest to hear, then listen to me as I narrate to thee everything again in detail. "Ascertaining the opinion of Vidura, Dhritarashtra the son of Amvika, calling Duryodhana told him again in private--'O son of Gandhari, have nothing to do with dice. Vidura doth not speak well of it. Possessed of great wisdom, he will never give me advice that is not for my good. I also regard what Vidura sayeth as exceedingly beneficial for me. Do that, O son, for I regard it all as for thy good also. Indeed, Vidura knoweth with all its mysteries the science (of political morality) that the illustrious and learned and wise Vrihaspati, the celestial Rishi who is the spiritual guide of Vasava--had unfolded unto the wise chief of the immortals. And O son, I always accept what Vidura adviseth. O king, as the wise Uddhava is ever regarded amongst the Vrishnis, so is Vidura possessed of great intelligence esteemed as the foremost of the Kurus. Therefore, O son, have nothing to do with dice. It is evident that dice soweth dissensions. And dissensions are the ruin of the kingdom. Therefore, O son, abandon this idea of gambling. O son, thou hast obtained from us what, it hath been ordained, a father and a mother should give unto their son, viz., ancestral rank and possessions. Thou art educated and clever in every branch of knowledge, and hast been brought up with affection in thy paternal dwelling. Born the eldest among all thy brothers, living within thy own kingdom, why regardest thou thyself as unhappy? O thou of mighty arms, thou obtainest food and attire of the very best kind and which is not obtainable by ordinary men. Why dost thou grieve yet. O son, O mighty-armed one, ruling thy large ancestral kingdom swelling with people and wealth, thou shinest as splendidly as the chief of the celestials in heaven. Thou art possessed of wisdom. It behoveth thee to tell me what can be the root of this grief that hath made thee so melancholy.' "Duryodhana replied,--'I am a sinful wretch, O king, because I eat and dress beholding (the prosperity of the foes). It hath been said that man is a wretch who is not filled with jealousy at the sight of his enemy's prosperity. O exalted one, this kind of prosperity of mine doth not gratify me. Beholding that blazing prosperity of the son of Kunti, I am very much pained. I tell thee strong must be my vitality, in as much as I am living even at the sight of the whole earth owning the sway of Yudhishthira. The Nipas, the Chitrakas, the Kukkuras, the Karaskaras, and the Lauha-janghas are living in the palace of Yudhishthira like bondsmen. The Himavat, the ocean, the regions on the sea-shore, and the numberless other regions that yield jewels and gems, have all acknowledged superiority of the mansion of Yudhishthira in respect of wealth it containeth. And, O Monarch, regarding me as the eldest and entitled to respect, Yudhishthira having received me respectfully, appointed me in receiving the jewels and gems (that were brought as tribute). O Bharata, the limit and the like of the excellent and invaluable jewels that were brought there have not been seen. And O king, my hands were fatigued in receiving that wealth. And when I was tired, they that brought those valuable articles from distant regions used to wait till I was able to resume my labour. Bringing jewels from the lake Vindu, the Asura architect Maya constructed (for the Pandavas) a lake-like surface made of crystal. Beholding the (artificial) lotuses with which it was filled, I mistook it, O king for water. And seeing me draw up my clothes (while about to cross it), Vrikodara (Bhima) laughed at me, regarding me as wanting in jewels and having lost my head at the sight of the affluence of my enemy. If I had the ability, I would, O king, without the loss of a moment, slay Vrikodara for that. But, O monarch, if we endeavour to slay Bhima now, without doubt, ours will be the fate of Sisupala. O Bharata, that insult by the foe burneth me. Once again, O king, beholding a similar lake that is really full of water but which I mistook for a crystal surface, I fell into it. At that, Bhima with Arjuna once more laughed derisively, and Draupadi also accompanied by other females joined in the laughter. That paineth my heart exceedingly. My apparel having been wet, the menials at the command of the king gave me other clothes. That also is my great sorrow. And O king, hear now of another mistake that I speak of. In attempting to pass through what is exactly of the shape of a door but through which there was really no passage, I struck my forehead against stone and injured myself. The twins Nakula and Sahadeva beholding from a distance that I was so hit at the head came and supported me in their arms, expressing great concern for me. And Sahadeva repeatedly told me, as if with a smile,--"This O king, is the door. Go this way!" And Bhimasena, laughing aloud, addressed me and said,--"O son of Dhritarashtra, this is the door." And, O king I had not even heard of the names of those gems that I saw in that mansion. And it is for these reasons that my heart so acheth.' SECTION L "Duryodhana said,--'Listen now, O Bharata, about all the most costly articles I saw, belonging unto the sons of Pandu, and brought one after another by the kings of the earth. Beholding that wealth of the foe, I lost my reason and scarcely knew myself. And, O Bharata, listen as I describe that wealth consisting of both manufactures and the produce of the land. The king of Kamboja gave innumerable skins of the best kind, and blankets made of wool, of the soft fur of rodents and other burroughers, and of the hair of cats,--all inlaid with threads of gold. And he also gave three hundred horses of the Titteti and the Kalmasha species possessing noses like parrots. And he also gave three hundred camels and an equal number of she-asses, all fattened with the olives and the Pilusha. And innumerable Brahmanas engaged in rearing cattle and occupied in low offices for the gratification of the illustrious king Yudhishthira the just waited at the gate with three hundred millions of tribute but they were denied admission into the palace. And hundred upon hundreds of Brahmanas possessing wealth of kine and living upon the lands that Yudhishthira had given them, came there with their handsome golden Kamandalus filled with clarified butter. And though they had brought such tribute, they were refused admission into the palace. And the Sudra kings that dwelt in the regions on the seacoast, brought with them, O king, hundred thousands of serving girls of the Karpasika country, all of beautiful features and slender waist and luxuriant hair and decked in golden ornaments; and also many skins of the Ranku deer worthy even of Brahmanas as tribute unto king Yudhishthira. And the tribes Vairamas, Paradas, Tungas, with the Kitavas who lived upon crops that depended on water from the sky or of the river and also they who were born in regions on the sea-shore, in woodlands, or countries on the other side of the ocean waited at the gate, being refused permission to enter, with goats and kine and asses and camels and vegetable, honey and blankets and jewels and gems of various kinds. And that great warrior king Bhagadatta, the brave ruler of Pragjyotisha and the mighty sovereign of the mlechchas, at the head of a large number of Yavanas waited at the gate unable to enter, with a considerable tribute comprising of horses of the best breed and possessing the speed of the wind. And king Bhagadatta (beholding the concourse) had to go away from the gate, making over a number of swords with handles made of the purest ivory and well-adorned with diamonds and every kind of gems. And many tribes coming from different regions, of whom some possess two eyes, some three and some had eyes on their foreheads, and those also called Aushmikas, and Nishadas, and Romakas, some cannibals and many possessing only one leg, I say, O king, standing at the gate, being refused permission to enter. And these diverse rulers brought as tribute ten thousand asses of diverse hues and black necks and huge bodies and great speed and much docility and celebrated all over the world. And these asses were all of goodly size and delightful colour. And they were all bred on the coast of Vankhu. And there were many kings that gave unto Yudhishthira much gold and silver. And having given much tribute they obtained admission into the palace of Yudhishthira. The people that came there possessing only one leg gave unto Yudhishthira many wild horses, some of which were as red as the cochineal, and some white, and some possessing the hues of the rainbow and some looking like evening clouds, and some that were of variegated colour. And they were all endued with the speed of the mind. And they also gave unto the king enough gold of superior quality. I also saw numberless Chins and Sakas and Uddras and many barbarous tribes living in the woods, and many Vrishnis and Harahunas, and dusky tribes of the Himavat, and many Nipas and people residing in regions on the sea-coast, waiting at the gate being refused permission to enter. And the people of Valhika gave unto him as tribute ten thousand asses, of goodly size and black necks and daily running two hundred miles, And those asses were of many shapes. And they were well-trained and celebrated all over the world. And possessed of symmetrical proportion and excellent colour, their skins were pleasant to the touch. And the Valhikas also presented numerous blankets of woollen texture manufactured in Chin and numerous skins of the Ranku deer, and clothes manufactured from jute, and others woven with the threads spun by insects. And they also gave thousands of other clothes not made of cotton, possessing the colour of the lotus. And these were all of smooth texture. And they also gave soft sheep-skins by thousands. And they also gave many sharp and long swords and scimitars, and hatchets and fine-edged battle-axes manufactured in the western countries. And having presented perfumes and jewels and gems of various kinds by thousands as tribute, they waited at the gate, being refused admission into the palace. And the Sakas and Tukhatas and Tukharas and Kankas and Romakas and men with horns bringing with them as tribute numerous large elephants and ten thousand horses, and hundreds and hundreds of millions of gold waited at the gate, being refused permission to enter. And the kings of the eastern countries having presented numerous valuable articles including many costly carpets and vehicles and beds, and armours of diverse hues decked with jewels and gold and ivory, and weapons of various kinds, and cars of various shapes and handsome make and adorned with gold, with well-trained horses trimmed with tiger skins, and rich and variegated blankets for caprisoning elephants, and various kinds of jewels and gems, arrows long and short and various other kinds of weapons, obtained permission to enter the sacrificial palace of the illustrious Pandava!' SECTION LI "Duryodhana said,--'O sinless one, listen to me as I describe that large mass of wealth consisting of various kinds of tribute presented unto Yudhishthira by the kings of the earth. They that dwell by the side of the river Sailoda flowing between the mountains of Mer and Mandara and enjoy the delicious shade of topes of the Kichaka bamboo, viz., the Khashas, Ekasanas, the Arhas, the Pradaras, the Dirghavenus, the Paradas, the Kulindas, the Tanganas, and the other Tanganas, brought as tribute heaps of gold measured in dronas (jars) and raised from underneath the earth by ants and therefore called after these creatures. The mountain tribes endued with great strength having brought as tribute numerous Chamaras (long brushes) soft and black and others white as moon-beam and sweet honey extracted from the flowers growing on the Himavat as also from the Mishali champaka and garlands of flowers brought from the region of the northern Kurus, and diverse kinds of plants from the north even from Kailasa, waited with their heads bent down at the gate of king Yudhishthira, being refused permission to enter. I also beheld there numberless chiefs of the Kiratas armed with cruel weapons and ever engaged in cruel deeds, eating of fruits and roots and attired in skins and living on the northern slopes of the Himavat and on the mountain from behind which the sun rises and in the region of Karusha on the sea-coast and on both sides of the Lohitya mountains. And, O king, having brought with them as tribute loads upon loads of sandal and aloe as also black aloe, and heaps upon heaps of valuable skins and gold and perfumes, and ten thousand serving-girls of their own race, and many beautiful animals and birds of remote countries, and much gold of great splendour procured from mountains, the Kiratas waited at the gate, being refused permission to enter. The Kairatas, the Daradas, the Darvas, the Suras, the Vaiamakas, the Audumvaras, the Durvibhagas, the Kumaras, the Paradas along with the Vahlikas, the Kashmiras, the Ghorakas, the Hansakayanas, the Sivis, the Trigartas, the Yauddheyas, the ruler of Madras and the Kaikeyas, the Amvashtas, the Kaukuras, the Tarkshyas, the Vastrapas along with the Palhavas, the Vashatayas, the Mauleyas along with the Kshudrakas, and the Malavas, the Paundrayas, the Kukkuras, the Sakas, the Angas, the Vangas, the Punras, the Sanavatyas, and the Gayas--these good and well-born Kshatriyas distributed into regular clans and trained to the use of arms, brought tribute unto king Yudhishthira by hundreds and thousands. And the Vangas, the Kalingas, the Magadhas, the Tamraliptas, the Supundrakas, the Dauvalikas, the Sagarakas, the Patrornas, the Saisavas, and innumerable Karnapravaranas, who presented themselves at the gate, were told by the gate-keepers at the command of the king, that if they could wait and bring good tribute they could obtain admission. Then the kings of those nations each gave a thousand elephants furnished with tusks like unto the shafts of ploughs and decked with girdles made of gold, and covered with fine blankets and therefore, resembling the lotus in hue. And they were all darkish as rocks and always musty, and procured from the sides of the Kamyaka lake, and covered with defensive armour. And they were also exceedingly patient and of the best breed. And having made these presents, those kings were permitted to enter. O king, these and many others, coming from various regions, and numberless other illustrious kings, brought jewels and gems unto this sacrifice. And Chitraratha, also the king of Gandharvas, the friend of Indra, gave four hundred horses gifted with the speed of the wind. And the Gandharva Tumvuru gladly gave a hundred horses of the colour of mango leaf and decked in gold. And, O thou of the Kuru race, the celebrated king of the Mlechcha tribe, called the Sukaras, gave many hundreds of excellent elephants. And Virata, the king of Matsya, gave as tribute two thousand elephants decked in gold. And king Vasudana from the kingdom of Pansu presented unto the son of Pandu six and twenty elephants and two thousand horses, O king, all decked in gold and endued with speed and strength and in full vigour of youth, and diverse other kinds of wealth. And Yajnasena presented unto the sons of Pandu for the sacrifice, fourteen thousand serving-girls and ten thousand serving-men with their wives, many hundreds of excellent elephants, six and twenty cars with elephants yoked unto them, and also his whole kingdom. And Vasudeva of the Vrishni race, in order to enhance the dignity of Arjuna, gave fourteen thousands of excellent elephants. Indeed, Krishna is the soul of Arjuna and Arjuna is the soul of Krishna, and whatever Arjuna may say Krishna is certain to accomplish. And Krishna is capable of abandoning heaven itself for the sake of Arjuna, and Arjuna also is capable of sacrificing his life for the sake of Krishna. And the Kings of Chola and Pandya, though they brought numberless jars of gold filled with fragrant sandal juice from the hills of Malaya, and loads of sandal and aloe wood from the Dardduras hills, and many gems of great brilliancy and fine cloths inlaid with gold, did not obtain permission (to enter). And the king of the Singhalas gave those best of sea-born gems called the lapis lazuli, and heaps of pearls also, and hundreds of coverlets for elephants. And numberless dark-coloured men with the ends of their eyes red as copper, attired in clothes decked with gems, waited at the gate with those presents. And numberless Brahmanas and Kshatriyas who had been vanquished, and Vaisyas and serving Sudras, from love of Yudhishthira, brought tribute unto the son of Pandu. And even all the Mlechchas, from love and respect, came unto Yudhishthira. And all orders of men, good, indifferent and low, belonging to numberless races, coming from diverse lands made Yudhishthira's habitation the epitome of the world.' "'And beholding the kings of the earth to present unto the foes such excellent and valuable presents, I wished for death out of grief. And O king, I will now tell thee of the servants of the Pandavas, people for whom Yudhishthira supplieth food, both cooked and uncooked. There are a hundred thousand billions of mounted elephants and cavalry and a hundred millions of cars and countless foot soldiers. At one place raw provisions are being measured out; at another they are being cooked; and at another place the foods are being distributed. And the notes of festivity are being heard everywhere. And amongst men of all orders I beheld not a single one in the mansion of Yudhishthira that had not food and drink and ornaments. And eighty-eight thousands of Snataka Brahmanas leading domestic lives, all supported by Yudhishthira, with thirty serving-girls given unto each, gratified by the king, always pray with complacent hearts for the destruction of his foes. And ten thousands of other ascetics with vital seed drawn up, daily eat of golden plates in Yudhishthira's palace. And, O king, Yajnaseni, without having eaten herself, daily seeth whether everybody, including even the deformed and the dwarfs, hath eaten or not. And, O Bharata, only two do not pay tribute unto the son of Kunti, viz., the Panchalas in consequence of their relationship by marriage, and the Andhakas and Vrishnis in consequence of their friendship.' SECTION LII "Duryodhana said,--'Those kings that are revered over all the world, who are devoted to truth and who are pledged to the observance of rigid vows, who are possessed of great learning and eloquence, who are fully conversant with the Vedas and their branches as also with sacrifices, who have piety and modesty, whose souls are devoted to virtue, who possess fame, and who have enjoyed the grand rites of coronation, all wait upon and worship Yudhishthira. And, O king, I beheld there many thousands of wild kine with as many vessels of white copper for milking them, brought thither by the kings of the earth as sacrificial presents to be given away by Yudhishthira unto the Brahmana. And, O Bharata, for bathing Yudhishthira at the conclusion of the sacrifice, many kings with the greatest alacrity, themselves brought there in a state of purity many excellent jars (containing water). And king Vahlika brought there a car decked with pure gold. And king Sudakshina himself yoked thereto four white horses of Kamboja breed, and Sunitha of great might fitted the lower pole and the ruler of Chedi with his own hands took up and fitted the flag-staff. And the king of the Southern country stood ready with the coat of mail; the ruler of Magadha, with garlands of flowers and the head-gear; the great warrior Vasudana with a sixty years old elephant, the king of Matsya, with the side-fittings of the car, all encased in gold; king Ekalavya, with the shoes; the king of Avanti, with diverse kinds of water for the final bath; king Chekitana, with the quiver; the king of Kasi, with the bow; and Salya, with a sword whose hilt and straps were adorned with gold. Then Dhaumya and Vyasa, of great ascetic merit, with Narada and Asita's son Devala, standing before performed the ceremony of sprinkling the sacred water over the king. And the great Rishis with cheerful hearts sat where the sprinkling ceremony was performed. And other illustrious Rishis conversant with the Vedas, with Jamadagni's son among them, approached Yudhishthira, the giver of large sacrificial presents, uttering mantras all the while, like the seven Rishis, approaching the great Indra in heaven. And Satyaki of unbaffled prowess held the umbrella (over the king's head). And Dhananjaya and Bhima were engaged in tanning the king; while the twins held a couple of chamaras in their hands. And the Ocean himself brought in a sling that big conch of Varuna which the celestial artificer Viswakarman had constructed with a thousand Nishkas of gold, and which Prajapati had in a former Kalpa, presented unto Indra. It was with that conch that Krishna bathed Yudhishthira after the conclusion of the sacrifice, and beholding it, I swooned away. People go to the Eastern or the Western seas and also to the Southern one. But, O father, none except birds can ever go to the Northern sea. But the Pandavas have spread their dominion even there, for I heard hundreds of conches that had been brought thence blown (in the sacrificial mansion) indicative of auspicious rejoicing. And while those conches blew simultaneously, my hair stood on end. And those among the kings, who were weak in strength fell down. And Dhrishtadyumna and Satyaki and the sons of Pandu and Kesava,--those eight, endued with strength and prowess and handsome in person, beholding the kings deprived of consciousness and myself in that plight, laughed outright. Then Vibhatsu (Arjuna) with a cheerful heart gave, O Bharata, unto the principal Brahmanas five hundred bullocks with horns plated with gold. And king Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, having completed the Rajasuya sacrifice, obtained like the exalted Harishchandra such prosperity that neither Rantideva nor Nabhaga, nor Jauvanaswa, nor Manu, nor king Prithu the son of Vena, nor Bhagiratha, Yayati, nor Nahusha, had obtained its like. And beholding, O exalted one, such prosperity, in the son of Pritha which is even like that which Harishchandra had, I do not see the least good in continuing to live, O Bharata! O ruler of men, a yoke that is tied (to the bullock's shoulders) by a blind man becomes loosened. Even such is the case with us. The younger ones are growing while the elder ones are decaying. And beholding all this, O chief of the Kurus, I cannot enjoy peace even with the aid of reflection. And it is for this, O king, that I am plunged into grief and becoming pale and emaciated.' SECTION LIII "Dhritrashtra said,--'Thou art my eldest son and born also of my eldest wife. Therefore, O son, be not jealous of the Pandavas. He that is jealous is always unhappy and suffereth the pangs of death. O bull of the Bharata race, Yudhishthira knoweth not deception, possesseth wealth equal unto thine, hath thy friends for his, and is not jealous of thee. Why shouldst thou, therefore, be jealous of him? O king, in respect of friends and allies thou art equal unto Yudhishthira. Why shouldst thou, therefore, covet, from folly, the property of thy brother? Be not so. Cease to be jealous. Do not grieve. O bull of the Bharata race, if thou covetest the dignity attaching to the performance of a sacrifice, let the priests arrange for thee the great sacrifice, called the Saptatantu. The kings of the earth will then, cheerfully and with great respect, bring for thee also much wealth and gems and ornaments. O child, coveting other's possessions is exceedingly mean. He, on the other hand, enjoyeth happiness, who is content with his own being engaged in the practices of his own order. Never striving to obtain the wealth of others, persevering in one's own affairs, and protecting what hath been earned,--these are the indications of true greatness. He that is unmoved in calamity, skilled in his own business, ever exerting vigilance and humble, always beholdeth prosperity. The sons of Pandu are as thy arms. Do not lop off those arms of thine. Plunge not into internal dissensions for the sake of that wealth of thy brothers. O king, be not jealous of the sons of Pandu. Thy wealth is equal unto that of thy brothers in his entirety. There is great sin in quarrelling with friends. They that are thy grandsires are theirs also. Give away in charity on occasions of sacrifices, gratify every dear object of thy desire, disport in the company of women freely, and enjoy thou peace.' SECTION LIV "Duryodhana said,--'He that is devoid of intellect but hath merely heard of many things, can scarcely understand the real import of the scriptures, like the spoon that hath no perception of the taste of the soup it toucheth. Thou knowest everything, but yet confoundest me. Like a boat fastened to another, thou and I are tied to each other. Art thou unmindful of thy own interests? Or, dost thou entertain hostile feeling towards me? These thy sons and allies are doomed to destruction, inasmuch as they have thee for their ruler, for thou describest as attainable in the future what is to be done at the present moment. He often trippeth whose guide acts under the instructions of others. How then can his followers expect to come across a right path? O king, thou art of mature wisdom; thou hast the opportunity to listen to the words of old, and thy senses also are under thy control. It behoveth thee not to confound us who are ready to seek our own interests. Vrihaspati hath said that the usage of kings are different from those of common people. Therefore kings should always attend to their own interests with vigilance. The attainment of success is the sole criterion that should guide the conduct of a Kshatriya. Whether, therefore, the means is virtuous or sinful, what scruples can there be in the duties of one's own order? He that is desirous of snatching the blazing prosperity of his foe, should, O bull of the Bharata race, bring every direction under his subjection like the charioteer taming the steeds with his whip. Those used to handling weapons say that, a weapon is not simply an instrument that cuts but is a means, whether covert or overt, that can defeat a foe. Who is to be reckoned a foe and who a friend, doth not depend on one's figure or dimensions. He that paineth another is, O king, to be regarded a foe by him that is pained. Discontent is the root of prosperity. Therefore, O king, I desire to be discontented. He that striveth after the acquisition of prosperity is, O king, a truly politic person. Nobody should be attached to wealth and affluence, for the wealth that hath been earned and hoarded may be plundered. The usages of kings are even such. It was during a period of peace that Sakra cut off the head of Namuchi after having given a pledge to the contrary, and it was because he approved of this eternal usage towards the enemy that he did so. Like a snake that swalloweth up frogs and other creatures living in holes, the earth swalloweth up a king that is peaceful and a Brahmana that stirreth not out of home. O king, none can by nature be any person's foe. He is one's foe, and not anybody else, who hath common pursuits with one. He that from folly neglecteth a growing foe, hath his vitals cut off as by a disease that he cherished without treatment. A foe, however insignificant, if suffered to grow in prowess, swalloweth one like the white ants at the root of a tree eating off the tree itself. O Bharata, O Ajamida, let not the prosperity of the foe be acceptable to thee. This policy (of neglecting the foe) should always be borne on their heads by the wise even like a load. He that always wisheth for the increase of his wealth, ever groweth in the midst of his relatives even like the body naturally growing from the moment of birth. Prowess conferreth speedy growth. Coveting as I do the prosperity of the Pandavas, I have not yet made it my own. At present I am a prey to doubts in respect of my ability. I am determined to resolve those doubts of mine. I will either obtain that prosperity of theirs, or lie down having perished in battle. O king when the state of my mind is such, what do I care now for life, for the Pandavas are daily growing while our possessions know no increase?' SECTION LV "Sakuni said,--'O thou foremost of victorious persons, I will snatch (for thee) this prosperity of Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, at the sight of which thou grievest so. Therefore, O king, let Yudhishthira the son of Kunti be summoned. By throwing dice a skilful man, himself uninjured, may vanquish one that hath no skill. Know, O Bharata, that betting is my bow, the dice are my arrows, the marks on them my bow-string, and the dice-board my car.' "Duryodhana said,--'This Sukuni skilled at dice, is ready, O king, to snatch the prosperity of the son of Pandu by means of dice. It behoveth thee to give him permission.' "Dhritarashtra said,--'I am obedient to the counsels of my brother, the illustrious Vidura. Consulting with him, I shall tell what should be done in this matter.' "Duryodhana said,--'Vidura is always engaged in doing good to the sons of Pandu. O Kaurava, his feelings towards us are otherwise. He will, therefore, without doubt, withdraw thy heart from the proposed act. No man should set himself to any task depending upon the counsels of another, for, O son of Kuru's race, the minds of two persons seldom agree in any particular act. The fool that liveth shunning all causes of fear wasteth himself like an insect in the rainy season. Neither sickness nor Yama waiteth till one is in prosperity. So long, therefore, as there is life and health, one should (without waiting for prosperity) accomplish his purpose.' "Dhritarashtra said,--'O son, hostility with those that are strong, is what never recommendeth itself to me. Hostility bringeth about a change of feelings, and that itself is a weapon though not made of steel. Thou regardest, O Prince, as a great blessing what will bring in its train the terrible consequences of war. What is really fraught with mischief. If once it beginneth, it will create sharp swords and pointed arrows.' "Duryodhana replied,--'Men of the most ancient times invented the use of dice. There is no destruction in it, nor is there any striking with weapons. Let the words of Sakuni, therefore, be acceptable to thee, and let thy command be issued for the speedy construction of the assembly house. The door of heaven, leading us to such happiness, will be opened to us by gambling. Indeed, they that betake to gambling (with such aid) deserve such good fortune. The Pandavas then will become thy equals (instead of, as now, superiors); therefore, gamble thou with the Pandavas.' "Dhritarashtra said.--'The words uttered by thee do not recommend themselves to me. Do what may be agreeable to thee, O ruler of men. But thou shall have to repent for acting according to these words; for, words that are fraught with such immorality can never bring prosperity in the future. Even this was foreseen by the learned Vidura ever treading the path of truth and wisdom. Even the great calamity, destructive of the lives of the Kshatriyas, cometh as destined by fate.'" Vaisampayana continued--"Having said this, the weak-minded Dhritarashtra regarded fate as supreme and unavoidable. And the king deprived of reason by Fate, and obedient to the counsels of his son, commanded his men in loud voice, saying--'Carefully construct, without loss of time, an assembly house of the most beautiful description, to be called the crystal-arched palace with a thousand columns, decked with gold and lapis lazuli, furnished with a hundred gates, and full two miles in length and in breadth the same.' Hearing those words of his, thousands of artificers endued with intelligence and skill soon erected the palace with the greatest alacrity, and having erected it brought thither every kind of article. And soon after they cheerfully represented unto the king that the palace had been finished, and that it as delightful and handsome and furnished with every kind of gems and covered with many-coloured carpets inlaid with gold. Then king Dhritarashtra, possessed of learning, summoning Vidura the chief of his ministers, said:--'Repairing, (to Khandavaprastha), bring prince Yudhishthira here without loss of time. Let him come hither with his brothers, and behold this handsome assembly house of mine, furnished with countless jewels and gems, and costly beds and carpets, and let a friendly match at dice commence here.'" SECTION LVI Vaisampayana said,--"King Dhritarashtra, ascertaining the inclinations of his son and knowing that Fate is inevitable, did what I have said. Vidura, however, that foremost of intelligent men, approved not his brother's words and spoke thus, 'I approve not, O king, of this command of thine. Do not act so. I fear, this will bring about the destruction of our race. When thy sons lose their unity, dissension will certainly ensue amongst them. This I apprehend, O king, from this match at dice.' "Dhritarashtra said,--'If Fate be not hostile, this quarrel will not certainly grieve me. The whole universe moveth at the will of its Creator, under the controlling influence of Fate. It is not free. Therefore, O Vidura, going unto king Yudhishthira at my command, bring thou soon that invincible son of Kunti.'" SECTION LVII Vaisampayana said,--"Vidura then, thus commanded against his will by king Dhritarashtra, set out, with the help of horses of high mettle and endued with great speed and strength, and quiet and patient, for the abode of the wise sons of Pandu. Possessed of great intelligence, Vidura proceeded by the way leading to the capital of the Pandavas. And having arrived at the city of king Yudhishthira, he entered it and proceeded towards the palace, worshipped by numberless Brahmanas. And coming to the palace which was even like unto the mansion of Kuvera himself, the virtuous Vidura approached Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma. Then the illustrious Ajamida devoted to truth and having no enemy on earth, reverentially saluted Vidura, and asked him about Dhritarashtra and his sons. And Yudhishthira said, 'O Kshatta, thy mind seemeth to be cheerless. Dost thou come here in happiness and peace? The sons of Dhritarashtra, I hope, are obedient to their old father. The people also, I hope, are obedient to Dhritarashtra's rule.' "Vidura said,--'The illustrious king, with his sons, is well and happy, and surrounded by his relatives he reigneth even like Indra himself. The king is happy with his sons who are all obedient to him and hath no grief. The illustrious monarch is bent on his own aggrandisement. The king of the Kurus hath commanded me to enquire after thy peace and prosperity, and to ask thee to repair to Hastinapore with thy brothers and to say, after beholding king Dhritarashtra's newly erected palace, whether that one is equal to thy own. Repairing thither, O son of Pritha, with thy brothers, enjoy ye in that mansion and sit to a friendly match at dice. We shall be glad if thou goest, as the Kurus have already arrived there. And thou wilt see there those gamblers and cheats that the illustrious king Dhritarashtra hath already brought thither. It is for this, O king, that I have come hither. Let the king's command be approved by thee.' "Yudhishthira said,--'O Kshatta, if we sit to a match at dice, we may quarrel. What man is there, who knowing all this, will consent to gamble? What dost thou think fit for us? We all are obedient to thy counsels.' "Vidura said,--'I know that gambling is the root of misery, and I strove to dissuade the king from it. The king, however, hath sent me to thee. Having known all this, O learned one, do what is beneficial.' "Yudhishthira said,--'Besides the sons of Dhritarashtra what other dishonest gamblers are there ready for play? Tell us, O Vidura, who they are and with whom we shall have to play, staking hundreds upon hundreds of our possessions.' "Vidura said,--'O monarch, Sakuni, the king of Gandhara, an adept at dice, having great skill of hand and desperate in stakes, Vivingati, king Chitrasena, Satyavrata, Purumitra and Jaya, these, O king, are there.' "Yudhishthira said,--'It would seem then that some of the most desperate and terrible gamblers always depending upon deceit are there. This whole universe, however, is at the will of its Maker, under the control of fate. It is not free. O learned one, I do not desire, at the command of king Dhritarashtra to engage myself in gambling. The father always wisheth to benefit his son. Thou art our master, O Vidura. Tell me what is proper for us. Unwilling as I am to gamble, I will not do so, if the wicked Sakuni doth not summon me to it in the Sabha? If, however, he challengeth me, I will never refuse. For that, as settled, is my eternal vow.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"King Yudhishthira the just having said this unto Vidura, commanded that preparations for his journey might be made without loss of time. And the next day, the king accompanied by his relatives and attendants and taking with him also the women of the household with Draupadi in their midst, set out for the capital of the Kurus. 'Like some brilliant body falling before the eyes, Fate depriveth us of reason, and man, tied as it were with a cord, submitteth to the sway of Providence,' saying this, king Yudhishthira, that chastiser of the foe, set out with Kshatta, without deliberating upon that summons from Dhritarashtra. And that slayer of hostile heroes, the son of Pandu and Pritha, riding upon the car that had been given him by the king of Valhika, and attired also in royal robes, set out with his brothers. And the king, blazing as it were with royal splendour, with Brahmanas walking before him, set out from his city, summoned by Dhritarashtra and impelled by what hath been ordained by Kala (Time). And arriving at Hastinapore he went to the palace of Dhritarashtra. And going there, the son of Pandu approached the king. And the exalted one then approached Bhishma and Drona and Karna, and Kripa, and the son of Drona, and embraced and was embraced by them all. And the mighty-armed one, endued with great prowess, then approached Somadatta, and then Duryodhana and Salya, and the son of Suvala, and those other kings also that had arrived there before him. The king then went to the brave Dusshasana and then to all his (other) brothers and then to Jayadratha and next to all the Kurus one after another. And the mighty-armed one, then surrounded by all his brothers, entered the apartment of the wise king Dhritarashtra. And then Yudhishthira beheld the reverend Gandhari, ever obedient to her lord, and surrounded by her daughters-in-law like Rohini by the stars. And saluting Gandhari and blessed by her in return, the king then beheld his old uncle, that illustrious monarch whose wisdom was his eye. King Dhritarashtra then, O monarch, smelt his head as also the heads of those four other princes of the Kuru race, viz., the sons of Pandu with Bhimasena as their eldest. And, O king, beholding the handsome Pandava those tigers among men, all the Kurus became exceedingly glad. And commanded by the king, the Pandavas then retired to the chambers allotted to them and which were all furnished with jewels and gems. And when they had retired into the chambers, the women of Dhritarashtra's household with Dussala taking the lead visited them. And the daughters-in-law of Dhritarashtra beholding the blazing and splendid beauty and prosperity of Yajnaseni, became cheerless and filled with jealousy. And those tigers among men, having conversed with the ladies went through their daily physical exercises and then performed the religious rites of the day. And having finished their daily devotions, they decked their persons with sandal paste of the most fragrant kind. And desiring to secure good luck and prosperity they caused (by gifts) the Brahmanas to utter benedictions. And then eating food that was of the best taste they retired to their chambers for the night. And those bulls among the Kurus then were put to sleep with music by handsome females. And obtaining from them what came in due succession, those subjugators of hostile towns passed with cheerful hearts that delightful night in pleasure and sport. And waked by the bards with sweet music, they rose from their beds, and having passed the night thus in happiness, they rose at dawn and having gone through the usual rites, they entered into the assembly house and were saluted by those that were ready there for gambling." SECTION LVIII Vaisampayana said,--"The sons of Pritha with Yudhishthira at their head, having entered that assembly house, approached all the kings that were present there. And worshipping all those that deserved to be worshipped, and saluting others as each deserved according to age, they seated themselves on seats that were clean and furnished with costly carpets. After they had taken their seats, as also all the kings, Sakuni the son of Suvala addressed Yudhishthira and said, 'O king, the assembly is full. All had been waiting for thee. Let, therefore, the dice be cast and the rules of play be fixed, O Yudhishthira.' "Yudhishthira replied, 'Deceitful gambling is sinful. There is no Kshatriya prowess in it. There is certainly no morality in it. Why, then, O king, dost thou praise gambling so? The wise applaud not the pride that gamesters feel in deceitful play. O Sakuni, vanquish us, not like a wretch, by deceitful means.' "Sakuni said,--'That high-souled player who knoweth the secrets of winning and losing, who is skilled in baffling the deceitful arts of his confrere, who is united in all the diverse operations of which gambling consisteth, truly knoweth the play, and he suffereth all in course of it. O son of Pritha, it is the staking at dice, which may be lost or won that may injure us. And it is for that reason that gambling is regarded as a fault. Let us, therefore, O king, begin the play. Fear not. Let the stakes be fixed. Delay not!' "Yudhishthira said,--'That best of Munis, Devala, the son of Asita, who always instructeth us about all those acts that may lead to heaven, hell, or the other regions, hath said, that it is sinful to play deceitfully with a gamester. To obtain victory in battle without cunning or stratagem is the best sport. Gambling, however, as a sport, is not so. Those that are respectable never use the language of the Mlechchas, nor do they adopt deceitfulness in their behaviour. War carried on without crookedness and cunning, this is the act of men that are honest. Do not, O Sakuni, playing desperately, win of us that wealth with which according to our abilities, we strive to learn how to benefit the Brahmanas. Even enemies should not be vanquished by desperate stakes in deceitful play. I do not desire either happiness or wealth by means of cunning. The conduct of one that is a gamester, even if it be without deceitfulness, should not be applauded.' "Sakuni said,--'O Yudhishthira, it is from a desire of winning, which is not a very honest motive, that one high-born person approacheth another (in a contest of race superiority). So also it is from a desire of defeating, which is not a very honest motive, that one learned person approacheth another (in a contest of learning). Such motives, however, are scarcely regarded as really dishonest. So also, O Yudhishthira, a person skilled at dice approacheth one that is not so skilled from a desire of vanquishing him. One also who is conversant with the truths of science approacheth another that is not from desire of victory, which is scarcely an honest motive. But (as I have already said) such a motive is not really dishonest. And, O Yudhishthira, so also one that is skilled in weapons approacheth one that is not so skilled; the strong approacheth the weak. This is the practice in every contest. The motive is victory, O Yudhishthira. If, therefore, thou, in approaching me, regardest me to be actuated by motives that are dishonest, if thou art under any fear, desist then from play.' "Yudhishthira said,--'Summoned, I do not withdraw. This is my established vow. And, O king, Fate is all powerful. We all are under the control of Destiny. With whom in this assembly am I to play? Who is there that can stake equally with me? Let the play begin.' "Duryodhana said,--'O monarch, I shall supply jewels and gems and every kind of wealth. And it is for me that this Sakuni, my uncle, will play.' "Yudhishthira said,--'Gambling for one's sake by the agency of another seemeth to me to be contrary to rule. Thou also, O learned one, will admit this. If, however, thou art still bent on it, let the play begin.'" SECTION LIX Vaisampayana said,--"When the play commenced, all those kings with Dhritarashtra at their head took their seats in that assembly. And, O Bharata, Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and the high-souled Vidura with cheerless hearts sat behind. And those kings with leonine necks and endued with great energy took their seats separately and in pairs upon many elevated seats of beautiful make and colour. And, O king, that mansion looked resplendent with those assembled kings like heaven itself with a conclave of the celestials of great good fortune. And they were all conversant with the Vedas and brave and of resplendent countenances. And, O great king, the friendly match at dice then commenced. "Yudhishthira said,--'O king, this excellent wealth of pearls of great value, procured from the ocean by churning it (of old), so beautiful and decked with pure gold, this, O king, is my stake. What is thy counter stake, O great king,--the wealth with which thou wishest to play with me?' "Duryodhana said,--'I have many jewels and much wealth. But I am not vain of them. Win thou this stake.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Then Sakuni, well-skilled at dice, took up the dice and (casting them) said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won!' SECTION LX "Yudhishthira said,--'Thou hast won this stake of me by unfair means. But be not so proud, O Sakuni. Let us play staking thousands upon thousands. I have many beautiful jars each full of a thousand Nishkas in my treasury, inexhaustible gold, and much silver and other minerals. This, O king, is the wealth with which I will stake with thee!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thus addressed, Sakuni said unto the chief of the perpetuators of the Kuru race, the eldest of the sons of Pandu, king Yudhishthira, of glory incapable of sustaining any diminution. 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'This my sacred and victorious and royal car which gladdeneth the heart and hath carried us hither, which is equal unto a thousand cars, which is of symmetrical proportions and covered with tiger-skin, and furnished with excellent wheels and flag-staffs which is handsome, and decked with strings of little bells, whose clatter is even like the roar of the clouds or of the ocean, and which is drawn by eight noble steeds known all over the kingdom and which are white as the moon-beam and from whose hoofs no terrestrial creature can escape--this, O king, is my wealth with which I will stake with thee!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words, Sakuni ready with the dice, and adopting unfair means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have a hundred thousand serving-girls, all young, and decked with golden bracelets on their wrists and upper arms, and with nishkas round their necks and other ornaments, adorned with costly garlands and attired in rich robes, daubed with the sandal paste, wearing jewels and gold, and well-skilled in the four and sixty elegant arts, especially versed in dancing and singing, and who wait upon and serve at my command the celestials, the Snataka Brahmanas, and kings. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words, Sakuni ready with the dice, adopting unfair means, said unto Yudhishthira. 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have thousands of serving-men, skilled in waiting upon guests, always attired in silken robes, endued with wisdom and intelligence, their senses under control though young, and decked with ear-rings, and who serve all guests night and day with plates and dishes in hand. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words, Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting unfair means said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have, O son of Suvala, one thousand musty elephants with golden girdles, decked with ornaments, with the mark of the lotus on their temples and necks and other parts, adorned with golden garlands, with fine white tusks long and thick as plough-shafts, worthy of carrying kings on their backs, capable of bearing every kind of noise on the field of battle, with huge bodies, capable of battering down the walls of hostile towns, of the colour of new-formed clouds, and each possessing eight she-elephants. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Unto Yudhishthira who had said so, Sakuni, the son of Suvala, laughingly said, 'Lo, I have won it!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have as many cars as elephants, all furnished with golden poles and flag-staffs and well-trained horses and warriors that fight wonderfully and each of whom receiveth a thousand coins as his monthly pay whether he fighteth or not. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"When these words had been spoken, the wretch Sakuni, pledged to enmity, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won it.' "Yudhishthira said.--'The steeds of the Tittiri, Kalmasha, and Gandharva breeds, decked with ornaments, which Chitraratha having been vanquished in battle and subdued cheerfully gave unto Arjuna, the wielder of the Gandiva. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee.'" Vaisampayana continued, "Hearing this, Sakuni, ready at dice, adopting unfair means, said unto Yudhishthira: 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have ten thousand cars and vehicles unto which are yoked draught animals of the foremost breed. And I have also sixty thousand warriors picked from each order by thousands, who are all brave and endued with prowess like heroes, who drink milk and eat good rice, and all of whom have broad chests. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing this, Sakuni ready at dice, adopting unfair means said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have four hundred Nidis (jewels of great value) encased in sheets of copper and iron. Each one of them is equal to five draunikas of the costliest and purest leaf gold of the Jatarupa kind. With this wealth, O king, I will stake with thee.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing this, Sakuni ready at dice, adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won it!'" SECTION LXI Vaisampayana said,--"During the course of this gambling, certain to bring about utter ruin (on Yudhishthira), Vidura, that dispeller of all doubts, (addressing Dhritarashtra) said, 'O great king, O thou of the Bharata race, attend to what I say, although my words may not be agreeable to thee, like medicine to one that is ill and about to breathe his last. When this Duryodhana of sinful mind had, immediately after his birth, cried discordantly like a jackal, it was well known that he had been ordained to bring about the destruction of the Bharata race. Know, O king, that he will be the cause of death of ye all. A jackal is living in thy house, O king, in the form of Duryodhana. Thou knowest it not in consequence of thy folly. Listen now to the words of the Poet (Sukra) which I will quote. They that collect honey (in mountains), having received what they seek, do not notice that they are about to fall. Ascending dangerous heights, abstracted in the pursuit of what they seek, they fall down and meet with destruction. This Duryodhana also, maddened with the play at dice, like the collector of honey, abstracted in what he seeketh, marketh not the consequences. Making enemies of these great warriors, he beholdeth not the fall that is before him. It is known to thee, O thou of great wisdom, that amongst the Bhojas, they abandoned, for the good of the citizens a son that was unworthy of their race. The Andhakas, the Yadavas, and the Bhojas uniting together, abandoned Kansa. And afterwards, when at the command of the whole tribe, the same Kansa had been slain by Krishna that slayer of foes, all the men of the tribe became exceedingly happy for a hundred years. So at thy command, let Arjuna slay this Suyodhana. And in consequence of the slaying of this wretch, let the Kurus be glad and pass their days in happiness. In exchange of a crow, O great king, buy these peacocks--the Pandavas; and in exchange of a jackal, buy these tigers. For the sake of a family a member may be sacrificed; for the sake of a village a family may be sacrificed, for the sake of a province a village may be sacrificed and for the sake of one's own soul the whole earth may be sacrificed. Even this was what the omniscient Kavya himself, acquainted with the thoughts of every creature, and a source of terror unto all foes, said unto the great Asuras to induce them to abandon Jambha at the moment of his birth. It is said that a certain king, having caused a number of wild birds that vomited gold to take up their quarters in his own house, afterwards killed them from temptation. O slayer of foes, blinded by temptation and the desire of enjoyment, for the sake of gold, the king destroyed at the same time both his present and future gains. Therefore, O king, prosecute not the Pandavas from desire of profit, even like the king in story. For then, blinded by folly thou wilt have to repent afterwards, even like the person that killed the birds. Like a flower-seller that plucketh (many flowers) in the garden from trees that he cherisheth with affection from day to day, continue, O Bharata, to pluck flowers day by day from the Pandavas. Do not scorch them to their roots like a fire-producing breeze that reduceth everything to black charcoal. Go not, O king, unto the region of Yama, with thy sons and troops, for who is there that is capable of fighting with the sons of Pritha, together? Not to speak of others, is the chief of the celestials at the head of the celestials themselves, capable of doing so?' SECTION LXII "Vidura said,--'Gambling is the root of dissensions. It bringeth about disunion. Its consequences are frightful. Yet having recourse to this, Dhritarashtra's son Duryodhana createth for himself fierce enmity. The descendants of Pratipa and Santanu, with their fierce troops and their allies the Vahlikas, will, for the sins of Duryodhana meet with destruction. Duryodhana, in consequence of this intoxication, forcibly driveth away luck and prosperity from his kingdom, even like an infuriate bull breaking his own horns himself. That brave and learned person who disregarding his own foresight, followeth, O king, (the bent of) another man's heart, sinketh in terrible affliction even like one that goeth into the sea in a boat guided by a child. Duryodhana is gambling with the son of Pandu, and thou art in raptures that he is winning. And it is such success that begeteth war, which endeth in the destruction of men. This fascination (of gambling) that thou has well-devised only leadeth to dire results. Thus hast thou simply brought on by these counsels great affliction to thy heart. And this thy quarrel with Yudhishthira, who is so closely related to thee, even if thou hadst not foreseen it, is still approved by thee. Listen, ye sons of Santanu, ye descendants of Pratipa, who are now in this assembly of the Kauravas, to these words of wisdom. Enter ye not into the terrible fire that hath blazed forth following the wretch. When Ajatasatru, the son of Pandu, intoxicated with dice, giveth way to his wrath, and Vrikodara and Arjuna and the twins (do the same), who, in that hour of confusion, will prove your refuge? O great king, thou art thyself a mine of wealth. Thou canst earn (by other means) as much wealth as thou seekest to earn by gambling. What dost thou gain by winning from the Pandavas their vast wealth? Win the Pandavas themselves, who will be to thee more than all the wealth they have. We all know the skill of Suvala in play. This hill-king knoweth many nefarious methods in gambling. Let Sakuni return whence he came. War not, O Bharata, with the sons of Pandu!' SECTION LXIII "Duryodhana said,--'O Kshatta, thou art always boasting of the fame of our enemies, deprecating the sons of Dhritarashtra. We know, O Vidura, of whom thou art really fond. Thou always disregardest us as children. That man standeth contest, who wisheth for success unto those that are near to him and defeat unto those that are not his favourites. His praise and blame are applied accordingly. Thy tongue and mind betray thy heart. But the hostility thou showeth in speech is even greater than what is in thy heart. Thou hast been cherished by us like a serpent on our lap. Like a cat thou wishest evil unto him that cherisheth thee. The wise have said that there is no sin graver than that of injuring one's master. How is it, O Kshatta, that thou dost not fear this sin? Having vanquished our enemies we have obtained great advantages. Use not harsh words in respect of us. Thou art always willing to make peace with the foes. And it is for this reason that thou hatest us always. A man becometh a foe by speaking words that are unpardonable. Then again in praising the enemy, the secrets of one's own party should not be divulged. (Thou however, transgressest this rule). Therefore, O thou parasite, why dost thou obstruct us so? Thou sayest whatever thou wishest. Insult us not. We know thy mind. Go and learn sitting at the feet of the old. Keen up the reputation that thou hast won. Meddle not with the affairs of other men. Do not imagine that thou art our chief. Tell us not harsh words always, O Vidura. We do not ask thee what is for our good. Cease, irritate not those that have already borne too much at thy hands. There is only one Controller, no second. He controlleth even the child that is in the mother's womb. I am controlled by Him. Like water that always floweth in a downward course, I am acting precisely in the way in which He is directing me. He that breaketh his head against a stone-wall, and he that feedeth a serpent, are guided in those acts of theirs by their own intellect. (Therefore, in this matter I am guided by my own intelligence). He becometh a foe who seeketh to control others by force. When advice, however, is offered in a friendly spirit, the learned bear with it. He again that hath set fire to such a highly inflammable object as camphor, beholdeth not its ashes, if he runneth immediately to extinguish it. One should not give shelter to another who is the friend of his foes, or to another who is ever jealous of his protector or to another who is evil-minded. Therefore, O Vidura, go whither-so-ever thou pleasest. A wife that is unchaste, however well-treated, forsaketh her husband yet.' "Vidura addressing Dhritarashtra, said, 'O monarch, tell us (impartially) like a witness what thou thinkest of the conduct of those who abandon their serving-men thus for giving instruction to them. The hearts of kings are, indeed, very fickle. Granting protection at first, they strike with clubs at last. O prince (Duryodhana), thou regardest thyself as mature in intellect, and, O thou of bad heart, thou regardest me as a child. But consider that he is a child who having first accepted one for a friend, subsequently findeth fault with him. An evil-hearted man can never be brought to the path of rectitude, like an unchaste wife in the house of a well-born person. Assuredly, instruction is not agreeable to this bull of the Bharata race like a husband of sixty years to a damsel that is young. After this, O king, if thou wishest to hear words that are agreeable to thee, in respect of all acts good or bad, ask thou women and idiots and cripples or persons of that description. A sinful man speaking words that are agreeable may be had in this world. But a speaker of words that are disagreeable though sound as regimen, or a hearer of the same, is very rare. He indeed, is a king's true ally who disregarding what is agreeable or disagreeable to his master beareth himself virtuously and uttereth what may be disagreeable but necessary as regimen. O great king, drink thou that which the honest drink and the dishonest shun, even humility, which is like a medicine that is bitter, pungent, burning, unintoxicating, disagreeable, and revolting. And drinking it, O king, regain thou thy sobriety. I always wish Dhritarashtra and his sons affluence and fame. Happen what may unto thee, here I bow to thee (and take my leave). Let the Brahmanas wish me well. O son of Kuru, this is the lesson I carefully inculcate, that the wise should never enrage such as adders as have venom in their very glances!' SECTION LXIV "Sakuni said,--'Thou hast, O Yudhishthira, lost much wealth of the Pandavas. If thou hast still anything that thou hast not yet lost to us, O son of Kunti, tell us what it is!' "Yudhishthira said,--'O son of Suvala, I know that I have untold wealth. But why is it, O Sakuni, that thou askest me of my wealth? Let tens of thousands and millions and millions and tens of millions and hundreds of millions and tens of billions and hundreds of billions and trillions and tens of trillions and hundreds of trillions and tens of quadrillions and hundreds of quadrillions and even more wealth be staked by thee. I have as much. With that wealth, O king, I will play with thee.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this, Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting unfair means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have, O son of Suvala, immeasurable kine and horses and milch cows with calves and goats and sheep in the country extending from the Parnasa to the eastern bank of the Sindu. With this wealth, O king, I will play with thee.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting unfair means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo, I have won!' "Yudhishthira said,--'I have my city, the country, land, the wealth of all dwelling therein except of the Brahmanas, and all those persons themselves except Brahmanas still remaining to me. With this wealth, O king, I will play with thee.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this, Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo! I have won.' "Yudhishthira said,--'These princes here, O king, who look resplendent in their ornaments and their ear-rings and Nishkas and all the royal ornaments on their persons are now my wealth. With this wealth, O king, I play with thee.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this, Sakuni, ready with his dice, adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo! I have won them.' "Yudhishthira said,--'This Nakula here, of mighty arms and leonine neck, of red eyes and endued with youth, is now my one stake. Know that he is my wealth.' "Sakuni said,--'O king Yudhishthira, prince Nakula is dear to thee. He is already under our subjection. With whom (as stake) wilt thou now play?'" Vaisampayana said,--"Saying this, Sakuni cast those dice, and said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo! He hath been won by us.' "Yudhishthira said,--'This Sahadeva administereth justice. He hath also acquired a reputation for learning in this world. However undeserving he may be to be staked in play, with him as stake I will play, with such a dear object as it, indeed, he were not so!'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this, Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo! I have won.' "Sakuni continued,--'O king, the sons of Madri, dear unto thee, have both been won by me. It would seem, however, that Bhimasena and Dhananjaya are regarded very much by thee.' "Yudhishthira said,--'Wretch! thou actest sinfully in thus seeking to create disunion amongst us who are all of one heart, disregarding morality.' "Sakuni said,--'One that is intoxicated falleth into a pit (hell) and stayeth there deprived of the power of motion. Thou art, O king, senior to us in age, and possessed of the highest accomplishments. O bull of the Bharata race, I (beg my pardon and) bow to thee. Thou knowest, O Yudhishthira, that gamesters, while excited with play, utter such ravings that they never indulge in the like of them in their waking moments nor even in dream.' "Yudhishthira said,--'He that taketh us like a boat to the other shore of the sea of battle, he that is ever victorious over foes, the prince who is endued with great activity, he who is the one hero in this world, (is here). With that Falguna as stake, however, undeserving of being made so, I will now play with thee.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this, Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo! I have won.' "Sakuni continued,--'This foremost of all wielders of the bow, this son of Pandu capable of using both his hands with equal activity hath now been won by me. O play now with the wealth that is still left unto thee, even with Bhima thy dear brother, as thy stake, O son of Pandu.' "Yudhishthira said,--'O king, however undeserving he may be of being made a stake, I will now play with thee by staking Bhimasena, that prince who is our leader, who is the foremost in fight,--even like the wielder of the thunder-bolt--the one enemy of the Danavas,--the high-souled one with leonine neck and arched eye-brows and eyes looking askance, who is incapable of putting up with an insult, who hath no equal in might in the world, who is the foremost of all wielders of the mace, and who grindeth all foes,'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this, Sakuni, ready with the dice adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira. 'Lo! I have won.' "Sakuni continued,--'Thou hast, O son of Kunti, lost much wealth, horses and elephants and thy brothers as well. Say, if thou hast anything which thou hast not lost.' "Yudhishthira, said--'I alone, the eldest of all my brothers and dear unto them, am still unwon. Won by thee, I will do what he that is won will have to do.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Hearing this Sakuni, ready with the dice, adopting foul means, said unto Yudhishthira, 'Lo! I have won.' "Sakuni continued,--'Thou hast permitted thyself to be won. This is very sinful. There is wealth still left to thee, O king. Therefore, thy having lost thyself is certainly sinful.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Having said this, Sakuni, well-skilled at dice, spoke unto all the brave kings present there of his having won, one after another, all the Pandavas. The son of Suvala then, addressing Yudhishthira said,--'O king, there is still one stake dear to thee that is still unwon. Stake thou Krishna, the princess of Panchala. By her, win thyself back.' "Yudhishthira said,--'With Draupadi as stake, who is neither short nor tall, neither spare nor corpulent, and who is possessed of blue curly locks, I will now play with thee. Possessed of eyes like the leaves of the autumn lotus, and fragrant also as the autumn lotus, equal in beauty unto her (Lakshmi) who delighteth in autumn lotuses, and unto Sree herself in symmetry and every grace she is such a woman as a man may desire for wife in respect of softness of heart, and wealth of beauty and of virtues. Possessed of every accomplishment and compassionate and sweet-speeched, she is such a woman as a man may desire for wife in respect of her fitness for the acquisition of virtue and pleasure and wealth. Retiring to bed last and waking up first, she looketh after all down to the cowherds and the shepherds. Her face too, when covered with sweat, looketh as the lotus or the jasmine. Of slender waist like that of the wasp, of long flowing locks, of red lips, and body without down, is the princess of Panchala. O king, making the slender-waisted Draupadi, who is even such as my stake, I will play with thee, O son of Suvala.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"When the intelligent king Yudhishthira the just has spoken thus,--'Fie!' 'Fie!' were the words that were uttered by all the aged persons that were in the assembly. And the whole conclave was agitated, and the kings who were present there all gave way to grief. And Bhishma and Drona and Kripa were covered with perspiration. And Vidura holding his head between his hands sat like one that had lost his reason. He sat with face downwards giving way to his reflections and sighing like a snake. But Dhritarashtra glad at heart, asked repeatedly, 'Hath the stake been won?' 'Hath the stake been won?' and could not conceal his emotions. Karna with Dussassana and others laughed aloud, while tears began to flow from the eyes of all other present in the assembly. And the son of Suvala, proud of success and flurried with excitement and repeating. Thou hast one stake, dear to thee, etc. said,--'Lo! I have won' and took up the dice that had been cast. SECTION LXV "Duryodhana said,--'Come, Kshatta, bring hither Draupadi the dear and loved wife of the Pandavas. Let her sweep the chambers, force her thereto, and let the unfortunate one stay where our serving-women are.' "Vidura said,--'Dost thou not know, O wretch, that by uttering such harsh words thou art tying thyself with cords? Dost thou not understand that thou art hanging on the edge of a precipice? Dost thou not know that being a deer thou provokest so many tigers to rage? Snakes of deadly venom, provoked to ire, are on thy head! Wretch, do not further provoke them lest thou goest to the region of Yama. In my judgement, slavery does not attach to Krishna, in as much as she was staked by the King after he had lost himself and ceased to be his own master. Like the bamboo that beareth fruit only when it is about to die, the son of Dhritarashtra winneth this treasure at play. Intoxicated, he perceiveth not in these his last moments that dice bring about enmity and frightful terrors. No man should utter harsh speeches and pierce the hearts of the others. No man should subjugate his enemies by dice and such other foul means. No one should utter such words as are disapproved by the Vedas and lead to hell and annoy others. Some one uttereth from his lips words that are harsh. Stung by them another burneth day and night. These words pierce the very heart of another. The learned, therefore, should never utter them, pointing them at others. A goat had once swallowed a hook, and when it was pierced with it, the hunter placing the head of the animal on the ground tore its throat frightfully in drawing it out. Therefore, O Duryodhana, swallow not the wealth of the Pandavas. Make them not thy enemies. The sons of Pritha never use words such as these. It is only low men that are like dogs who use harsh words towards all classes of people, viz., those that have retired to the woods, those leading domestic lives, those employed in ascetic devotions and those that are of great learning. Alas! the son of Dhritarashtra knoweth not that dishonesty is one of the frightful doors of hell. Alas! many of the Kurus with Dussasana amongst them have followed him in the path of dishonesty in the matter of this play at dice. Even gourds may sink and stones may float, and boats also may always sink in water, still this foolish king, the son of Dhritarashtra, listeneth not to my words that are even as regimen unto him. Without doubt, he will be the cause of the destruction of the Kurus. When the words of wisdom spoken by friends and which are even as fit regimen are not listened to, but on the other hand temptation is on the increase, a frightful and universal destruction is sure to overtake all the Kurus.'" SECTION LXVI Vaisampayana said,--"Intoxicated with pride, the son of Dhritarashtra spake,--'Fie on Kshatta! and casting his eyes upon the Pratikamin in attendance, commanded him, in the midst of all those reverend seniors, saying,--'Go Pratikamin, and bring thou Draupadi hither. Thou hast no fear from the sons of Pandu. It is Vidura alone that raveth in fear. Besides, he never wisheth our prosperity!'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thus commanded, the Pratikamin, who was of the Suta caste, hearing the words of the king, proceeded with haste, and entering the abode of the Pandavas, like a dog in a lion's den, approached the queen of the sons of Pandu. And he said,--'Yudhishthira having been intoxicated with dice, Duryodhana, O Draupadi, hath won thee. Come now, therefore, to the abode of Dhritarashtra. I will take thee, O Yajnaseni, and put thee in some menial work.' "Draupadi said,--'Why, O Pratikamin, dost thou say so? What prince is there who playeth staking his wife? The king was certainly intoxicated with dice. Else, could he not find any other object to stake?' "The Pratikamin said,--'When he had nothing else to stake, it was then that Ajatasatru, the son of Pandu, staked thee. The king had first staked his brothers, then himself, and then thee, O princess.' "Draupadi said,--'O son of the Suta race, go, and ask that gambler present in the assembly, whom he hath lost first, himself, or me. Ascertaining this, come hither, and then take me with thee, O son of the Suta race.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The messenger coming back to the assembly told all present the words of Draupadi. And he spoke unto Yudhishthira sitting in the midst of the kings, these words,--'Draupadi hath asked thee, Whose lord wert thou at the time thou lost me in play? Didst thou lose thyself first or me?' Yudhishthira, however sat there like one demented and deprived of reason and gave no answer good or ill to the Suta. "Duryodhana then said,--'Let the princess of Panchala come hither and put her question. Let every one hear in this assembly the words that pass between her and Yudhishthira.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The messenger, obedient to the command of Duryodhana, going once again to the palace, himself much distressed, said unto Draupadi,--'O princess, they that are in the assembly are summoning thee. It seemeth that the end of the Kauravas is at hand. When Duryodhana, O princess, is for taking thee before the assembly, this weak-brained king will no longer be able to protect his prosperity.' "Draupadi said,--'The great ordainer of the world hath, indeed, ordained so. Happiness and misery pay their court to both the wise and unwise. Morality, however, it hath been said, is the one highest object in the world. If cherished, that will certainly dispense blessings to us. Let not that morality now abandon the Kauravas. Going back to those that are present in that assembly, repeat these my words consonant with morality. I am ready to do what those elderly and virtuous persons conversant with morality will definitely tell me.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The Suta, hearing these words of Yajnaseni, came back to the assembly and repeated the words of Draupadi. But all sat with faces downwards, uttering not a word, knowing the eagerness and resolution of Dhritarashtra's son. "Yudhishthira, however, O bull of the Bharata race, hearing of Duryodhana's intentions, sent a trusted messenger unto Draupadi, directing that although she was attired in one piece of cloth with her navel itself exposed, in consequence of her season having come, she should come before her father-in-law weeping bitterly. And that intelligent messenger, O king, having gone to Draupadi's abode with speed, informed her of the intentions of Yudhishthira. The illustrious Pandavas, meanwhile, distressed and sorrowful, and bound by promise, could not settle what they should do. And casting his eyes upon them, king Duryodhana, glad at heart, addressed the Suta and said,--'O Pratikamin, bring her hither. Let the Kauravas answer her question before her face.' The Suta, then, obedient to his commands, but terrified at the (possible) wrath of the daughter of Drupada, disregarding his reputation for intelligence, once again said to those that were in the assembly,--'what shall I say unto Krishna?' "Duryodhana, hearing this, said,--'O Dussasana, this son of my Suta, of little intelligence, feareth Vrikodara. Therefore, go thou thyself and forcibly bring hither the daughter of Yajnasena. Our enemies at present are dependent on our will. What can they do thee?' Hearing the command of his brother, prince Dussasana rose with blood-red eyes, and entering the abode of those great warriors, spake these words unto the princess, 'Come, come, O Krishna, princess of Panchala, thou hast been won by us. And O thou of eyes large as lotus leaves, come now and accept the Kurus for thy lords. Thou hast been won virtuously, come to the assembly.' At these words, Draupadi, rising up in great affliction, rubbed her pale face with her hands, and distressed she ran to the place where the ladies of Dhritarashtra's household were. At this, Dussasana roaring in anger, ran after her and seized the queen by her locks, so long and blue and wavy. Alas! those locks that had been sprinkled with water sanctified with mantras in the great Rajasuya sacrifice, were now forcibly seized by the son of Dhritarashtra disregarding the prowess of the Pandavas. And Dussasana dragging Krishna of long long locks unto the presence of the assembly--as if she were helpless though having powerful protectors--and pulling at her, made her tremble like the banana plant in a storm. And dragged by him, with body bent, she faintly cried--'Wretch! it ill behoveth thee to take me before the assembly. My season hath come, and I am now clad in one piece of attire.' But Dussasana dragging Draupadi forcibly by her black locks while she was praying piteously unto Krishna and Vishnu who were Narayana and Nara (on earth), said unto her--'Whether thy season hath come or not, whether thou art attired in one piece of cloth or entirely naked, when thou hast been won at dice and made our slave, thou art to live amongst our serving-women as thou pleasest.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"With hair dishevelled and half her attire loosened, all the while dragged by Dussasana, the modest Krishna consumed with anger, faintly said--'In this assembly are persons conversant with all the branches of learning devoted to the performance of sacrifices and other rites, and all equal unto Indra, persons some of whom are really my superiors and others who deserve to be respected as such. I can not stay before them in this state. O wretch! O thou of cruel deeds, drag me not so. Uncover me not so. The princes (my lords) will not pardon thee, even if thou hast the gods themselves with Indra as thy allies. The illustrious son of Dharma is now bound by the obligations of morality. Morality, however, is subtle. Those only that are possessed of great clearness of vision can ascertain it. In speech even I am unwilling to admit an atom of fault in my lord forgetting his virtues. Thou draggest me who am in my season before these Kuru heroes. This is truly an unworthy act. But no one here rebuketh thee. Assuredly, all these are of the same mind with thee. O fie! Truly hath the virtue of the Bharata gone! Truly also hath the usage of those acquainted with the Kshatriya practice disappeared! Else these Kurus in this assembly would never have looked silently on this act that transgresseth the limits of their practices. Oh! both Drona and Bhishma have lost their energy, and so also hath the high-souled Kshatta, and so also this king. Else, why do these foremost of the Kuru elders look silently on this great crime?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thus did Krishna of slender waist cry in distress in that assembly. And casting a glance upon her enraged lords--the Pandavas--who were filled with terrible wrath, she inflamed them further with that glance of hers. And they were not so distressed at having been robbed of their kingdom, of their wealth, of their costliest gems, as with that glance of Krishna moved by modesty and anger. And Dussasana, beholding Krishna looking at her helpless lords, dragging her still more forcibly, and addressed her, 'Slave, Slave' and laughed aloud. And at those words Karna became very glad and approved of them by laughing aloud. And Sakuni, the son of Suvala, the Gandhara king, similarly applauded Dussasana. And amongst all those that were in the assembly except these three and Duryodhana, every one was filled with sorrow at beholding Krishna thus dragged in sight of that assembly. And beholding it all, Bhishma said, 'O blessed one, morality is subtle. I therefore am unable to duly decide this point that thou hast put, beholding that on the one hand one that hath no wealth cannot stake the wealth belonging to others, while on the other hand wives are always under the orders and at the disposal of their lords. Yudhishthira can abandon the whole world full of wealth, but he will never sacrifice morality. The son of Pandu hath said--"I am won." Therefore, I am unable to decide this matter. Sakuni hath not his equal among men at dice-play. The son of Kunti still voluntarily staked with him. The illustrious Yudhishthira doth not himself regard that Sakuni hath played with him deceitfully. Therefore, I can not decide this point.' "Draupadi said,--'The king was summoned to this assembly and though possessing no skill at dice, he was made to play with skilful, wicked, deceitful and desperate gamblers. How can he said then to have staked voluntarily? The chief of the Pandavas was deprived of his senses by wretches of deceitful conduct and unholy instincts, acting together, and then vanquished. He could not understand their tricks, but he hath now done so. Here, in this assembly, there are Kurus who are the lords of both their sons and their daughters-in-law! Let all of them, reflecting well upon my words, duly decide the point that I have put.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Unto Krishna who was thus weeping and crying piteously, looking at times upon her helpless lord, Dussasana spake many disagreeable and harsh words. And beholding her who was then in her season thus dragged, and her upper garments loosened, beholding her in that condition which she little deserved, Vrikodara afflicted beyond endurance, his eyes fixed upon Yudhishthira, gave way to wrath. "Bhima said,--'O Yudhishthira, gamblers have in their houses many women of loose character. They do not yet stake those women having kindness for them even. Whatever wealth and other excellent articles the king of Kasi gave, whatever, gems, animals, wealth, coats of mail and weapons that other kings of the earth gave, our kingdom, thyself and ourselves, have all been won by the foes. At all this my wrath was not excited for thou art our lord. This, however, I regard as a highly improper act--this act of staking Draupadi. This innocent girl deserveth not this treatment. Having obtained the Pandavas as her lords, it is for thee alone that she is being thus persecuted by the low, despicable, cruel, and mean-minded Kauravas. It is for her sake, O king, that my anger falleth on thee. I shall burn those hands of thine. Sahadeva, bring some fire.' "Arjuna hearing this, said,--'Thou hast never, O Bhimasena, before this uttered such words as these. Assuredly thy high morality hath been destroyed by these cruel foes. Thou shouldst not fulfil the wishes of the enemy. Practise thou the highest morality. Whom doth it behave to transgress his virtuous eldest brother? The king was summoned by the foe, and remembering the usage of the Kshatriyas, he played at dice against his will. That is certainly conducive to our great fame.' "Bhima said,--'If I had not known, O Dhananjaya, that the king had acted according to Kshatriya usage, then I would have, taking his hands together by sheer force, burnt them in a blazing fire.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Beholding the Pandavas thus distressed and the princess of Panchala also thus afflicted, Vikarna the son of Dhritarashtra said--'Ye kings, answer ye the question that hath been asked by Yajnaseni. If we do not judge a matter referred to us, all of us will assuredly have to go to hell without delay. How is that Bhishma and Dhritarashtra, both of whom are the oldest of the Kurus, as also the high-souled Vidura, do not say anything! The son of Bharadwaja who is the preceptor of us, as also Kripa, is here. Why do not these best of regenerate ones answer the question? Let also those other kings assembled here from all directions answer according to their judgment this question, leaving aside all motives of gain and anger. Ye kings, answer ye the question that hath been asked by this blessed daughter of king Drupada, and declare after reflection on which side each of ye is.' Thus did Vikarna repeatedly appeal to those that were in that assembly. But those kings answered him not one word, good or ill. And Vikarna having repeatedly appealed to all the kings began to rub his hands and sigh like a snake. And at last the prince said--'Ye kings of the earth, ye Kauravas, whether ye answer this question or not, I will say what I regard as just and proper. Ye foremost of men, it hath been said that hunting, drinking, gambling, and too much enjoyment of women, are the four vices of kings. The man, that is addicted to these, liveth forsaking virtue. And people do not regard the acts done by a person who is thus improperly engaged, as of any authority. This son of Pandu, while deeply engaged in one of these vicious acts, urged thereto by deceitful gamblers, made Draupadi a stake. The innocent Draupadi is, besides, the common wife of all the sons of Pandu. And the king, having first lost himself offered her as a stake. And Suvala himself desirous of a stake, indeed prevailed upon the king to stake this Krishna. Reflecting upon all these circumstances, I regard Draupadi as not won.' "Hearing these words, a loud uproar rose from among those present in that assembly. And they all applauded Vikarna and censured the son of Suvala. And at that sound, the son of Radha, deprived of his senses by anger, waving his well-shaped arms, said these words,--'O Vikarna, many opposite and inconsistent conditions are noticeable in this assembly. Like fire produced from a faggot, consuming the faggot itself, this thy ire will consume thee. These personages here, though urged by Krishna, have not uttered a word. They all regard the daughter of Drupada to have been properly won. Thou alone, O son of Dhritarashtra in consequence of thy immature years, art bursting with wrath, for though but a boy thou speakest in the assembly as if thou wert old. O younger brother of Duryodhana, thou dost not know what morality truly is, for thou sayest like a fool that this Krishna who hath been (justly) won as not won at all. O son of Dhritarashtra, how dost thou regard Krishna as not won, when the eldest of the Pandavas before this assembly staked all his possessions? O bull of the Bharata race, Draupadi is included in all the possessions (of Yudhishthira). Therefore, why regardest thou Krishna who hath been justly won as not won? Draupadi had been mentioned (by Suvala) and approved of as a stake by the Pandavas. For what reason then dost thou yet regard her as not won? Or, if thou thinkest that bringing her hither attired in a single piece of cloth, is an action of impropriety, listen to certain excellent reasons I will give. O son of the Kuru race, the gods have ordained only one husband for one woman. This Draupadi, however, hath many husbands. Therefore, certain it is that she is an unchaste woman. To bring her, therefore, into this assembly attired though she be in one piece of cloth--even to uncover her is not at all an act that may cause surprise. Whatever wealth the Pandavas had--she herself and these Pandavas themselves,--have all been justly won by the son of Suvala. O Dussasana, this Vikarna speaking words of (apparent) wisdom is but a boy. Take off the robes of the Pandavas as also the attire of Draupadi.' Hearing these words the Pandavas, O Bharata, took of their upper garments and throwing them down sat in that assembly. Then Dussasana, O king, forcibly seizing Draupadi's attire before the eyes of all, began to drag it off her person." Vaisampayana continued,--"When the attire of Draupadi was being thus dragged, the thought of Hari, (And she herself cried aloud, saying), 'O Govinda, O thou who dwellest in Dwaraka, O Krishna, O thou who art fond of cow-herdesses (of Vrindavana). O Kesava, seest thou not that the Kauravas are humiliating me. O Lord, O husband of Lakshmi, O Lord of Vraja (Vrindavana), O destroyer of all afflictions, O Janarddana, rescue me who am sinking in the Kaurava Ocean. O Krishna, O Krishna, O thou great yogin, thou soul of the universe, Thou creator of all things, O Govinda, save me who am distressed,--who am losing my senses in the midst of the Kurus.' Thus did that afflicted lady resplendent still in her beauty, O king covering her face cried aloud, thinking of Krishna, of Hari, of the lord of the three worlds. Hearing the words of Draupadi, Krishna was deeply moved. And leaving his seat, the benevolent one from compassion, arrived there on foot. And while Yajnaseni was crying aloud to Krishna, also called Vishnu and Hari and Nara for protection, the illustrious Dharma, remaining unseen, covered her with excellent clothes of many hues. And, O monarch as the attire of Draupadi was being dragged, after one was taken off, another of the same kind, appeared covering her. And thus did it continue till many clothes were seen. And, O exalted one, owing to the protection of Dharma, hundreds upon hundreds of robes of many hues came off Draupadi's person. And there arose then a deep uproar of many many voices. And the kings present in that assembly beholding that most extraordinary of all sights in the world, began to applaud Draupadi and censure the son of Dhritarashtra. And Bhima then, squeezing his hands, with lips quivering in rage, swore in the midst of all those kings a terrible oath in a loud voice. "And Bhima said,--'Hear these words of mine, ye Kshatriyas of the world. Words such as these were never before uttered by other men, nor will anybody in the future ever utter them. Ye lords of earth, if having spoken these words I do not accomplish them hereafter, let me not obtain the region of my deceased ancestors. Tearing open in battle, by sheer force, the breast of this wretch, this wicked-minded scoundrel of the Bharata race, if I do not drink his life-blood, let me not obtain the region of my ancestors.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these terrible words of Bhima that made the down of the auditors to stand on end, everybody present there applauded him and censured the son of Dhritarashtra. And when a mass of clothes had been gathered in that assembly, all dragged from the person of Draupadi, Dussasana, tired and ashamed, sat down. And beholding the sons of Kunti in that state, the persons--those gods among men--that were in that assembly all uttered the word 'Fie!' (on the son of Dhritarashtra). And the united voices of all became so loud that they made the down of anybody who heard them stand on end. And all the honest men that were in that assembly began to say,--'Alas! the Kauravas answer not the question that hath been put to them by Draupadi.' And all censuring Dhritarashtra together, made a loud clamour. Then Vidura, that master of the science of morality, waving his hands and silencing every one, spake these words;--'Ye that are in this assembly, Draupadi having put her question is weeping helplessly. Ye are not answering her. Virtue and morality are being persecuted by such conduct. An afflicted person approacheth an assembly of good men, like one that is being consumed by fire. They that are in the assembly quench that fire and cool him by means of truth and morality. The afflicted person asketh the assembly about his rights, as sanctioned by morality. They that are in the assembly should, unmoved by interest and anger, answer the question. Ye kings, Vikarna hath answered the question, according to his own knowledge and judgment. Ye should also answer it as ye think proper. Knowing the rules of morality, and having attended an assembly, he that doth not answer a query that is put, incurreth half the demerit that attacheth to a lie. He, on the other hand, who, knowing the rules of morality and having joined an assembly answereth falsely, assuredly incurreth the sin of a lie. The learned quote as an example in this connection the old history of Prahlada and the son of Angirasa. "'There was of old a chief of the Daityas of the name Prahlada. He had a son named Virochana. And Virochana, for the sake of obtaining a bride, quarrelled with Sudhanwan, the son of Angiras. It hath been heard by us that they mutually wagered their lives, saying--"I am superior,"--"I am superior,"--for the sake of obtaining a bride. And after they had thus quarrelled with each other, they both made Prahlada the arbitrator to decide between them. And they asked him, saying;--"Who amongst us is superior (to the other)? Answer this question. Speak not falsely." Frightened at this quarrel, Prahlada cast his eyes upon Sudhanwan. And Sudhanwan in rage, burning like unto the mace of Yama, told him,--"If thou answerest falsely, or dost not answer at all thy head will then be split into a hundred pieces by the wielder of the thunderbolt with that bolt of his."--Thus addressed by Sudhanwan, the Daitya, trembling like a leaf of the fig tree, went to Kasyapa of great energy, for taking counsel with him. And Prahlada said,--"Thou art, O illustrious and exalted one, fully conversant with the rules of morality that should guide both the gods and the Asuras and the Brahmanas as well. Here, however, is a situation of great difficulty in respect of duty. Tell me, I ask thee, what regions are obtainable by them who upon being asked a question, answer it not, or answer it falsely." Kasyapa thus asked answered.--"He that knoweth, but answereth not a question from temptation, anger or fear, casteth upon himself a thousand nooses of Varuna. And the person who, cited as a witness with respect to any matter of ocular or auricular knowledge, speaketh carelessly, casteth a thousand nooses of Varuna upon his own person. On the completion of one full year, one such noose is loosened. Therefore, he that knoweth, should speak the truth without concealment. If virtue, pierced by sin, repaireth to an assembly (for aid), it is the duty of every body in the assembly to take off the dart, otherwise they themselves would be pierced with it. In an assembly where a truly censurable act is not rebuked, half the demerit of that act attacheth to the head of that assembly, a fourth to the person acting censurably and a fourth unto those others that are there. In that assembly, on the other hand, when he that deserveth censure is rebuked, the head of the assembly becometh freed from all sins, and the other members also incur none. It is only the perpetrator himself of the act that becometh responsible for it. O Prahlada, they who answer falsely those that ask them about morality destroy the meritorious acts of their seven upper and seven lower generations. The grief of one who hath lost all his wealth, of one who hath lost a son, of one who is in debt, of one who is separated from his companions, of a woman who hath lost her husband, of one that hath lost his all in consequence of the king's demand, of a woman who is sterile, of one who hath been devoured by a tiger (during his last struggles in the tiger's claws), of one who is a co-wife, and of one who hath been deprived of his property by false witnesses, have been said by the gods to be uniform in degree. These different sorts of grief are his who speaketh false. A person becometh a witness in consequence of his having seen, heard, and understood a thing. Therefore, a witness should always tell the truth. A truth-telling witness never loseth his religious merits and earthly possessions also." Hearing these words of Kasyapa, Prahlada told his son, "Sudhanwan is superior to thee, as indeed, (his father) Angiras is superior to me. The mother also of Sudhanwan is superior to thy mother. Therefore, O Virochana, this Sudhanwan is now the lord of the life." At these words of Prahlada, Sudhanwan said, "Since unmoved by affection for thy child, thou hast adhered to virtue, I command, let this son of thine live for a hundred years."' "Vidura continued,--'Let all the persons, therefore, present in this assembly hearing these high truths of morality, reflect upon what should be the answer to the question asked by Draupadi.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The kings that were there hearing these words of Vidura, answered not a word, yet Karna alone spoke unto Dussasana, telling him. Take away this serving-woman Krishna into the inner apartments. And thereupon Dussasana began to drag before all the spectators the helpless and modest Draupadi, trembling and crying piteously unto the Pandavas her lords. SECTION LXVIII "Draupadi said,--'Wait a little, thou worst of men, thou wicked-minded Dussasana. I have an act to perform--a high duty that hath not been performed by me yet. Dragged forcibly by this wretch's strong arms, I was deprived of my senses. I salute these reverend seniors in this assembly of the Kurus. That I could not do this before cannot be my fault.'" Vaisampayana said,--"Dragged with greater force than before, the afflicted and helpless Draupadi, undeserving of such treatment, falling down upon the ground, thus wept in that assembly of the Kurus,-- "'Alas, only once before, on the occasion of the Swayamvara, I was beheld by the assembled kings in the amphitheatre, and never even once beheld afterwards. I am to-day brought before this assembly. She whom even the winds and the sun had seen never before in her palace is to-day before this assembly and exposed to the gaze of the crowd. Alas, she whom the sons of Pandu could not, while in her palace, suffer to be touched even by the wind, is to-day suffered by the Pandavas to be seized and dragged by this wretch. Alas, these Kauravas also suffer their daughter-in-law, so unworthy of such treatment, to be thus afflicted before them. It seemeth that the times are out of joint. What can be more distressing to me, than that though high-born and chaste, I should yet be compelled to enter this public court? Where is that virtue for which these kings were noted? It hath been heard that the kings of ancient days never brought their wedded wives into the public court. Alas, that eternal usage hath disappeared from among the Kauravas. Else, how is it that the chaste wife of the Pandavas, the sister of Prishata's son, the friend of Vasudeva, is brought before this assembly? Ye Kauravas, I am the wedded wife of king Yudhishthira the just, hailing from the same dynasty to which the King belonged. Tell me now if I am a serving-maid or otherwise. I will cheerfully accept your answer. This mean wretch, this destroyer of the name of the Kurus, is afflicting me hard. Ye Kauravas, I cannot bear it any longer. Ye kings, I desire ye to answer whether ye regard me as won or unwon. I will accept your verdict whatever it be.' "Hearing these words, Bhishma answered, 'I have already said, O blessed one that the course of morality is subtle. Even the illustrious wise in this world fail to understand it always. What in this world a strong man calls morality is regarded as such by others, however otherwise it may really be; but what a weak man calls morality is scarcely regarded as such even if it be the highest morality. From the importance of the issue involved, from its intricacy and subtlety, I am unable to answer with certitude the question thou hast asked. However, it is certain that as all the Kurus have become the slaves of covetousness and folly, the destruction of this our race will happen on no distant date. O blessed one, the family into which thou hast been admitted as a daughter-in-law, is such that those who are born in it, however much they might be afflicted by calamities, never deviate from the paths of virtue and morality. O Princess of Panchala, this conduct of thine also, viz. that though sunk in distress, thou still easiest thy eyes on virtue and morality, is assuredly worthy of thee. These persons, Drona and others, of mature years and conversant with morality, sit heads downwards like men that are dead, with bodies from which life hath departed. It seemeth to me, however, that Yudhishthira is an authority on this question. It behoveth him to declare whether thou art won or not won.'" SECTION LXIX Vaisampayana said,--"The kings present in that assembly, from fear of Duryodhana, uttered not a word, good or ill, although they beheld Draupadi crying piteously in affliction like a female osprey, and repeatedly appealing to them. And the son of Dhritarashtra beholding those kings and sons and grand sons of kings all remaining silent, smiled a little, and addressing the daughter of the king of Panchala, said,--'O Yajnaseni, the question thou hast put dependeth on thy husbands--on Bhima of mighty strength, on Arjuna, on Nakula, on Sahadeva. Let them answer thy question. O Panchali, let them for thy sake declare in the midst of these respectable men that Yudhishthira is not their lord, let them thereby make king Yudhishthira the just a liar. Thou shalt then be freed from the condition of slavery. Let the illustrious son of Dharma, always adhering to virtue, who is even like Indra, himself declare whether he is not thy lord. At his words, accept thou the Pandavas or ourselves without delay. Indeed, all the Kauravas present in this assembly are floating in the ocean of thy distress. Endued with magnanimity, they are unable to answer thy question, looking at thy unfortunate husbands.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of the Kuru king, all who were present in the assembly loudly applauded them. And shouting approvingly, they made signs unto one another by motions of their eyes and lips. And amongst some that were there, sounds of distress such as 'O!' and 'Alas!' were heard. And at these words of Duryodhana, so delightful (to his partisans), the Kauravas present in that assembly became exceedingly glad. And the kings, with faces turned sideways, looked upon Yudhishthira conversant with the rules of morality, curious to hear what he would say. And every one present in that assembly became curious to hear what Arjuna, the son of Pandu never defeated in battle, and what Bhimasena, and what the twins also would say. And when that busy hum of many voices became still, Bhimasena, waving his strong and well-formed arms smeared with sandalpaste spake these words,--'If this high-souled king Yudhishthira the just, who is our eldest brother, had not been our lord, we would never have forgiven the Kuru race (for all this). He is the lord of all our religious and ascetic merits, the lord of even our lives. If he regardeth himself as won, we too have all been won. If this were not so, who is there amongst creatures touching the earth with their feet and mortal, that would escape from me with his life after having touched those locks of the princess of Panchala? Behold these mighty, well-formed arms of mine, even like maces of iron. Having once come within them, even he of a hundred sacrifices is incapable of effecting an escape. Bound by the ties of virtue and the reverence that is due to our eldest brother, and repeatedly urged by Arjuna to remain silent, I am not doing anything terrible. If however, I am once commanded by king Yudhishthira the just, I would slay these wretched sons of Dhritarashtra, making slaps do the work of swords, like a lion slaying a number of little animals.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Unto Bhima who had spoken these words Bhishma and Drona and Vidura said, 'Forbear, O Bhima. Everything is possible with thee.' SECTION LXX "Karna said,--'Of all the persons in the assembly, three, viz., Bhishma, Vidura, and the preceptor of the Kurus (Drona) appear to be independent; for they always speak of their master as wicked, always censure him, and never wish for his prosperity. O excellent one, the slave, the son, and the wife are always dependent. They cannot earn wealth, for whatever they earn belongeth to their master. Thou art the wife of a slave incapable of possessing anything on his own account. Repair now to the inner apartments of king Dhritarashtra and serve the king's relatives. We direct that that is now thy proper business. And, O princess, all the sons of Dhritarashtra and not the sons of Pritha are now thy masters. O handsome one, select thou another husband now,--one who will not make thee a slave by gambling. It is well-known that women, especially that are slaves, are not censurable if they proceed with freedom in electing husbands. Therefore let it be done by thee. Nakula hath been won, as also Bhimasena, and Yudhishthira also, and Sahadeva, and Arjuna. And, O Yajnaseni, thou art now a slave. Thy husbands that are slaves cannot continue to be thy lords any longer. Alas, doth not the son of Pritha regards life, prowess and manhood as of no use that he offereth this daughter of Drupada, the king of Panchala, in the presence of all this assembly, as a stake at dice?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words, the wrathful Bhima breathed hard, a very picture of woe. Obedient to the king and bound by the tie of virtue and duty, burning everything with his eyes inflamed by anger, he said,--'O king, I cannot be angry at these words of this son of a Suta, for we have truly entered the state of servitude. But O king, could our enemies have said so unto me, it thou hadst not played staking this princess?'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of Bhimasena king Duryodhana addressed Yudhishthira who was silent and deprived of his senses, saying,--'O king, both Bhima and Arjuna, and the twins also, are under thy sway. Answer thou the question (that hath been asked by Draupadi). Say, whether thou regardest Krishna as unwon.' And having spoken thus unto the son of Kunti, Duryodhana desirous of encouraging the son of Radha and insulting Bhima, quickly uncovered his left thigh that was like unto the stem of a plantain tree or the trunk of an elephant and which was graced with every auspicious sign and endued with the strength of thunder, and showed it to Draupadi in her very sight. And beholding this, Bhimasena expanding his red eyes, said unto Duryodhana in the midst of all those kings and as if piercing them (with his dart-like words),--'Let not Vrikodara attain to the regions, obtained by his ancestors, if he doth not break that thigh of thine in the great conflict.' And sparkles of fire began to be emitted from every organ of sense of Bhima filled with wrath, like those that come out of every crack and orifice in the body of a blazing tree. "Vidura then, addressing everybody, said,--'Ye kings of Pratipa's race, behold the great danger that ariseth from Bhimasena. Know ye for certain that this great calamity that threatens to overtake the Bharatas hath been sent by Destiny itself. The sons of Dhritarashtra have, indeed, gambled disregarding every proper consideration. They are even now disputing in this assembly about a lady (of the royal household). The prosperity of our kingdom is at an end. Alas, the Kauravas are even now engaged in sinful consultations. Ye Kauravas, take to your heart this high precept that I declare. If virtue is persecuted, the whole assembly becometh polluted. If Yudhishthira had staked her before he was himself won, he would certainly have been regarded as her master. If, however a person staketh anything at a time when he himself is incapable of holding any wealth, to win it is very like obtaining wealth in a dream. Listening to the words of the king of Gandhara, fall ye not off from this undoubted truth.' "Duryodhana, hearing Vidura thus speak, said,--'I am willing to abide by the words of Bhima, of Arjuna and of the twins. Let them say that Yudhishthira is not their master. Yajnaseni will then be freed from her state of bondage.' "Arjuna at this, said,--'This illustrious son of Kunti, king Yudhishthira the just, was certainly our master before he began to play. But having lost himself, let all the Kauravas judge whose master he could be after that.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Just then, a jackal began to cry loudly in the homa-chamber of king Dhritarashtra's palace. And, O king, unto the jackal that howled so, the asses began to bray responsively. And terrible birds also, from all sides, began to answer with their cries. And Vidura conversant with everything and the daughter of Suvala, both understood the meaning of those terrible sounds. And Bhishma and Drona and the learned Gautama loudly cried,--Swashti! Swashti! [Footnote 1] Then Gandhari and the learned Vidura beholding that frightful omen, represented everything, in great affliction, unto the king. And the king (Dhritarashtra) thereupon said,-- [Footnote 1. A word of benediction, similar to 'Amen.'] "'Thou wicked-minded Duryodhana, thou wretch, destruction hath all ready overtaken thee when thou insultest in language such as this the wife of these bulls among the Kurus, especially their wedded wife Draupadi.' And having spoken those words, the wise Dhritarashtra endued with knowledge, reflecting with the aid of his wisdom and desirous of saving his relatives and friends from destruction, began to console Krishna, the princess of Panchala, and addressing her, the monarch said,--'Ask of me any boon, O princess of Panchala, that thou desirest. Chaste and devoted to virtue, thou art the first of all my daughters-in-law.' "Draupadi said,--'O bull of the Bharata race, if thou will grant me a boon, I ask the handsome Yudhishthira, obedient to every duty, be freed from slavery. Let not unthinking children call my child Prativindhya endued with great energy of mind as the son of a slave. Having been a prince, so superior to all men, and nurtured by kings it is not proper that he should be called the child of a slave.' "Dhritarashtra said unto her,--'O auspicious one, let it be as thou sayest. O excellent one, ask thou another boon, for I will give it. My heart inclineth to give thee a second boon. Thou dost not deserve only one boon.' "Draupadi said,--'I ask, O king, that Bhimasena and Dhananjaya and the twins also, with their cars and bows, freed from bondage, regain their liberty.' "Dhritarashtra said,--'O blessed daughter, let it be as thou desirest. Ask thou a third boon, for thou hast not been sufficiently honoured with two boons. Virtuous in thy behaviour, thou art the foremost of all my daughters-in-law.' "Draupadi said,--'O best of kings, O illustrious one, covetousness always bringeth about loss of virtue. I do not deserve a third boon. Therefore I dare not ask any. O king of kings, it hath been said that a Vaisya may ask one boon; a Kshatriya lady, two boons; a Kshatriya male, three, and a Brahmana, a hundred. O king, these my husbands freed from the wretched state of bondage, will be able to achieve prosperity by their own virtuous acts!' SECTION LXXI "Karna said,--'We have never heard of such an act (as this one of Draupadi), performed by any of the women noted in this world for their beauty. When the sons of both Pandu and Dhritarashtra were excited with wrath, this Draupadi became unto the sons of Pandu as their salvation. Indeed the princess of Panchala, becoming as a boat unto the sons of Pandu who were sinking in a boatless ocean of distress, hath brought them in safety to the shore.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of Karna in the midst of the Kurus,--viz., that the sons of Pandu were saved by their wife,--the angry Bhimasena in great affliction said (unto Arjuna),--'O Dhananjaya, it hath been said by Devala three lights reside in every person, viz., offspring, acts and learning, for from these three hath sprung creation. When life becometh extinct and the body becometh impure and is cast off by relatives, these three become of service to every person. But the light that is in us hath been dimmed by this act of insult to our wife. How, O Arjuna, can a son born from this insulted wife of ours prove serviceable to us?' "Arjuna replied,--'Superior persons, O Bharata, never prate about the harsh words that may or may not be uttered by inferior men. Persons that have earned respect for themselves, even if they are able to retaliate, remember not the acts of hostility done by their enemies, but, on the other hand, treasure up only their good deeds.' "Bhima said,--'Shall I, O king, slay, without loss of time all these foes assembled together, even here, or shall I destroy them, O Bharata, by the roots, outside this palace? Or, what need is there of words or of command? I shall slay all these even now, and rule thou the whole earth, O king, without a rival.' And saying this, Bhima with his younger brothers, like a lion in the midst of a herd of inferior animals, repeatedly cast his angry glances around. But Arjuna, however, of white deeds, with appealing looks began to pacify his elder brother. And the mighty-armed hero endued with great prowess began to burn with the fire of his wrath. And, O king, this fire began to issue out of Vrikodara's ears and other senses with smoke and sparks and flames. And his face became terrible to behold in consequence of his furrowed brows like those of Yama himself at the time of the universal destruction. Then Yudhishthira forbade the mighty hero, embracing him with his arms and telling him 'Be not so. Stay in silence and peace.' And having pacified the mighty-armed one with eyes red in wrath, the king approached his uncle Dhritarashtra, with hands joined in entreaty. SECTION LXXII "Yudhishthira said,--'O king, thou art our master. Command us as to what we shall do. O Bharata, we desire to remain always in obedience to thee.' "Dhritarashtra replied.--'O Ajatasatru, blest be thou. Go thou in peace and safety. Commanded by me, go, rule thy own kingdom with thy wealth. And, O child, take to heart this command of an old man, this wholesome advice that I give, and which is even a nutritive regimen. O Yudhishthira, O child, thou knowest the subtle path of morality. Possessed of great wisdom, thou art also humble, and thou waitest also upon the old. Where there is intelligence, there is forbearance. Therefore, O Bharata, follow thou counsels of peace. The axe falleth upon wood, not upon stone. (Thou art open to advice, not Duryodhana). They are the best of men that remember not the acts of hostility of their foes; that behold only the merits, not the faults, of their enemies; and that never enter into hostilities themselves. They that are good remember only the good deeds of their foes and not the hostile acts their foes might have done unto them. The good, besides, do good unto others without expectation of any good, in return. O Yudhishthira, it is only the worst of men that utter harsh words in quarrelling; while they that are indifferent reply to such when spoken by others. But they that are good and wise never think of or recapitulate such harsh words, little caring whether these may or may not have been uttered by their foes. They that are good, having regard to the state of their own feelings, can understand the feelings of others, and therefore remember only the good deeds and not the acts of hostility of their foes. Thou hast acted even as good men of prepossessing countenance do, who transgress not the limits of virtue, wealth, pleasure and salvation. O child, remember not the harsh words of Duryodhana. Look at thy mother Gandhari and myself also, if thou desirest to remember only what is good. O Bharata, look at me, who am thy father unto you and am old and blind, and still alive. It was for seeing our friends and examining also the strength and weakness of my children, that I had, from motives of policy, suffered this match at dice to proceed. O king those amongst the Kurus that have thee for their ruler, and the intelligent Vidura conversant with every branch of learning for their counsellor, have, indeed, nothing to grieve for. In thee is virtue, in Arjuna is patience, in Bhimasena is prowess, and the twins, those foremost of men, is pure reverence for superiors. Blest be thou, O Ajatasatru. Return to Khandavaprastha, and let there be brotherly love between thee and thy cousins. Let thy heart also be ever fixed on virtue.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"That foremost of the Bharatas--king Yudhishthira the just--then, thus addressed by his uncle, having gone through every ceremony of politeness, set out with his brothers for Khandavaprastha. And accompanied by Draupadi and ascending their cars which were all of the hue of the clouds, with cheerful hearts they all set out for that best of cities called Indraprastha." SECTION LXXIII Janamejaya said,--"How did the sons of Dhritarashtra feel, when they came to know that the Pandavas had, with Dhritarashtra's leave, left Hastinapore with all their wealth and jewels?" Vaisampayana said,--"O king, learning that the Pandavas had been commanded by the wise Dhritarashtra to return to their capital, Dussasana went without loss of time unto his brother. And, O bull of the Bharata race, having arrived before Duryodhana with his counsellor, the prince, afflicted with grief, began to say,--'Ye mighty warriors, that which we had won after so much trouble, the old man (our father) hath thrown away. Know ye that he hath made over the whole of that wealth to the foes.' At these words, Duryodhana and Karna and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, all of whom were guided by vanity, united together, and desirous of counteracting the sons of Pandu, approaching in haste saw privately the wise king Dhritarashtra--the son of Vichitravirya and spake unto him these pleasing and artful words. Duryodhana said,-- "'Hast thou not heard, O king, what the learned Vrihaspati the preceptor of the celestials, said in course of counselling Sakra about mortals and politics? Even these, O slayer of foes, were the words of Vrihaspati, "Those enemies that always do wrong by stratagem or force, should be slain by every means." If, therefore, with the wealth of the Pandavas, we gratify the kings of the earth and then fight with the sons of Pandu, what reverses can overtake us? When one hath placed on the neck and back of venomous snakes full of wrath for encompassing his destruction, is it possible for him to take them off? Equipped with weapon and seated on their cars, the angry sons of Pandu like wrathful and venomous snakes will assuredly annihilate us, O father. Even now Arjuna proceedeth, encased in mail and furnished with his couple of quivers, frequently taking up the Gandiva and breathing hard and casting angry glances around. It hath (also) been heard by us that Vrikodara, hastily ordering his car to be made ready and riding on it, is proceeding along, frequently whirling his heavy mace. Nakula also is going along, with the sword in his grasp and the semi-circular shield in his hand. And Sahadeva and the king (Yudhishthira) have made signs clearly testifying to their intentions. Having ascended their cars that are full of all kinds of arms, they are whipping their horses (for going to Khandava soon) and assembling their forces. Persecuted thus by us they are incapable of forgiving us those injuries. Who is there among them that will forgive that insult to Draupadi? Blest be thou. We will again gamble with the son of Pandu for sending them to exile. O bull among men, we are competent to bring them thus under our sway. Dressed in skins, either we or they defeated at dice, shall repair to the woods for twelve years. The thirteenth year shall have to be spent in some inhabited country unrecognised; and, if recognised, an exile for another twelve years shall be the consequence. Either we or they shall live so. Let the play begin, casting the dice, let the sons of Pandu once more play. O bull of the Bharata race, O king, even this is our highest duty. This Sakuni knoweth well the whole science of dice. Even if they succeed in observing this vow for thirteen years, we shall be in the meantime firmly rooted in the kingdom and making alliances, assemble a vast invincible host and keep them content, so that we shall, O king, defeat the sons of Pandu if they reappear. Let this plan recommend itself to thee, O slayer of foes.' "Dhritarashtra said,--'Bring back the Pandavas then, indeed, even if they have gone a great way. Let them come at once again to cast dice.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Then Drona, Somadatta and Valhika, Gautama, Vidura, the son of Drona, and the mighty son of Dhritarashtra by his Vaisya wife, Bhurisravas, and Bhishma, and that mighty warrior Vikarna,--all said, 'Let not the play commence. Let there be peace.' But Dhritarashtra, partial to his sons, disregarding the counsels of all his wise friends and relatives, summoned the sons of Pandu." SECTION LXXIV Vaisampayana said,--"O monarch, it was then that the virtuous Gandhari, afflicted with grief on account of her affection for her sons, addressed king Dhritarashtra and said, 'When Duryodhana was born, Vidura of great intelligence had said, "It is well to send this disgrace of the race to the other world. He cried repeatedly and dissonantly like a jackal. It is certain he will prove the destruction of our race." Take this to heart, O king of the Kurus. O Bharata, sink not, for thy own fault, into an ocean of calamity. O lord, accord not thy approbation to the counsels of the wicked ones of immature years. Be not thou the cause of the terrible destruction of this race. Who is there that will break an embankment which hath been completed, or re-kindle a conflagration which hath been extinguished? O bull of the Bharata race, who is there that will provoke the peaceful sons of Pritha? Thou rememberest, O Ajamida, everything, but still I will call thy attention to this. The scriptures can never control the wicked-minded for good or evil. And, O king, a person of immature understanding will never act as one of mature years. Let thy sons follow thee as their leader. Let them not be separated from thee for ever (by losing their lives). Therefore, at my word, O king, abandon this wretch of our race. Thou couldst not, O king, from parental affection, do it before. Know that the time hath come for the destruction of race through him. Err not, O king. Let thy mind, guided by counsels of peace, virtue, and true policy, be what it naturally is. That prosperity which is acquired by the aid of wicked acts, is soon destroyed; while that which is won by mild means taketh root and descendeth from generation to generation.' "The king, thus addressed by Gandhari who pointed out to him in such language the path of virtue, replied unto her, saying,--'If the destruction of our race is come, let it take place freely. I am ill able to prevent it. Let it be as they (these my sons) desire. Let the Pandavas return. And let my sons again gamble with the sons of Pandu.'" SECTION LXXV Vaisampayana said,--"The royal messenger, agreeably to the commands of the intelligent king Dhritarashtra, coming upon Yudhishthira, the son of Pritha who had by that time gone a great way, addressed the monarch and said,--'Even these are the words of thy father-like uncle, O Bharata, spoken unto thee, "The assembly is ready. O son of Pandu, O king Yudhisthira, come and cast the dice."' "Yudhishthira said,--'Creatures obtain fruits good and ill according to the dispensation of the Ordainer of the creation. Those fruits are inevitable whether I play or not. This is a summons to dice; it is, besides the command of the old king. Although I know that it will prove destructive to me, yet I cannot refuse.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Although (a living) animal made of gold was an impossibility, yet Rama suffered himself to be tempted by a (golden) deer. Indeed, the minds of men over whom calamities hang, became deranged and out of order. Yudhishthira, therefore, having said these words, retraced his steps along with his brothers. And knowing full well the deception practised by Sakuni, the son of Pritha came back to sit at dice with him again. These mighty warriors again entered that assembly, afflicting the hearts of all their friends. And compelled by Fate they once more sat down at ease for gambling for the destruction of themselves. "Sakuni then said,--'The old king hath given ye back all your wealth. That is well. But, O bull of the Bharata race, listen to me, there is a stake of great value. Either defeated by ye at dice, dressed in deer skins we shall enter the great forest and live there for twelve years passing the whole of the thirteenth year in some inhabited region, unrecognised, and if recognised return to an exile of another twelve years; or vanquished by us, dressed in deer skins ye shall, with Krishna, live for twelve years in the woods passing the whole of the thirteenth year unrecognised, in some inhabited region. If recognised, an exile of another twelve years is to be the consequence. On the expiry of the thirteenth year, each is to have his kingdom surrendered by the other. O Yudhishthira, with this resolution, play with us, O Bharata, casting the dice.' "At these words, they that were in that assembly, raising up their arms said in great anxiety of mind, and from the strength of their feelings these words,--'Alas, fie on the friends of Duryodhana that they do not apprise him of his great danger. Whether he, O bull among the Bharatas, (Dhritarashtra) understandeth or not, of his own sense, it is thy duty to tell him plainly.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"King Yudhishthira, even hearing these various remarks, from shame and a sense of virtue again sat at dice. And though possessed of great intelligence and fully knowing the consequences, he again began to play, as if knowing that the destruction of the Kurus was at hand. "And Yudhishthira said,--'How can, O Sakuni, a king like me, always observant of the uses of his own order, refuse, when summoned to dice? Therefore I play with thee.' "Sakuni answered,--'We have many kine and horses, and milch cows, and an infinite number of goats and sheep; and elephants and treasures and gold and slaves both male and female. All these were staked by us before but now let this be our one stake, viz., exile into the woods,--being defeated either ye or we will dwell in the woods (for twelve years) and the thirteenth year, unrecognised, in some inhabited place. Ye bulls among men, with this determination, will we play.' "O Bharata, this proposal about a stay in the woods was uttered but once. The son of Pritha, however, accepted it and Sakuni took up the dice. And casting them he said unto Yudhishthira,--'Lo, I have won.'" SECTION LXXVI Vaisampayana said,--"Then the vanquished sons of Pritha prepared for their exile into the woods. And they, one after another, in due order, casting off their royal robes, attired themselves in deer-skins. And Dussasana, beholding those chastisers of foes, dressed in deer-skins and deprived of their kingdom and ready to go into exile, exclaimed 'The absolute sovereignty of the illustrious king Duryodhana hath commenced. The sons of Pandu have been vanquished, and plunged into great affliction. Now have we attained the goal either by broad or narrow paths. For today becoming superior to our foes in point of prosperity as also of duration of rule have we become praiseworthy of men. The sons of Pritha have all been plunged by us into everlasting hell. They have been deprived of happiness and kingdom for ever and ever. They who, proud of their wealth, laughed in derision at the son of Dhritarashtra, will now have to go into the woods, defeated and deprived by us of all their wealth. Let them now put off their variegated coats of mail, their resplendent robes of celestial make, and let them all attire themselves in deer-skins according to the stake they had accepted of the son of Suvala. They who always used to boast that they had no equals in all the world, will now know and regard themselves in this their calamity as grains of sesame without the kernel. Although in this dress of theirs the Pandavas seem like unto wise and powerful persons installed in a sacrifice, yet they look like persons not entitled to perform sacrifices, wearing such a guise. The wise Yajnasena of the Somake race, having bestowed his daughter--the princess of Panchala--on the sons of Pandu, acted most unfortunately for the husbands of Yajnaseni--these sons of Pritha are as eunuchs. And O Yajnaseni, what joy will be thine upon beholding in the woods these thy husbands dressed in skins and thread-bare rags, deprived of their wealth and possessions. Elect thou a husband, whomsoever thou likest, from among all these present here. These Kurus assembled here, are all forbearing and self-controlled, and possessed of great wealth. Elect thou one amongst these as thy lord, so that these great calamity may not drag thee to wretchedness. The sons of Pandu now are even like grains of sesame without the kernel, or like show-animals encased in skins, or like grains of rice without the kernel. Why shouldst thou then longer wait upon the fallen sons of Pandu? Vain is the labour used upon pressing the sesame grain devoid of the kernel!' "Thus did Dussasana, the son of Dhritarashtra, utter in the hearing of the Pandavas, harsh words of the most cruel import. And hearing them, the unforbearing Bhima, in wrath suddenly approaching that prince like a Himalayan lion upon a jackal, loudly and chastisingly rebuked him in these words,--'Wicked-minded villain, ravest thou so in words that are uttered alone by the sinful? Boastest thou thus in the midst of the kings, advanced as thou art by the skill of the king of Gandhara. As thou piercest our hearts here with these thy arrowy words, so shall I pierce thy heart in battle, recalling all this to thy mind. And they also who from anger or covetousness are walking behind thee as thy protectors,--them also shall I send to the abode of Yama with their descendants and relatives.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Unto Bhima dressed in deer-skins and uttering these words of wrath without doing any thing, for he could not deviate from the path of virtue, Dussasana abandoning all sense of shame, dancing around the Kurus, loudly said, 'O cow! O cow!' "Bhima at this once more said,--'Wretch darest thou, O Dussasana, use harsh words as these? Whom doth it behove to boast, thus having won wealth by foul means? I tell thee that if Vrikodara, the son of Pritha, drinketh not thy life-blood, piercing open thy breast in battle, let him not attain to regions of blessedness, I tell thee truly that by slaying the sons of Dhritarashtra in battle, before the very eyes of all the warriors, I shall pacify this wrath of mine soon enough.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"And as the Pandavas were going away from the assembly, the wicked king Duryodhana from excess of joy mimiced by his own steps the playful leonine trade of Bhima. Then Vrikodara, half turning towards the king said, 'Think not ye fool that by this thou gainest any ascendency over me; slay thee shall I soon with all thy followers, and answer thee, recalling all this to thy mind.' And beholding this insult offered to him, the mighty and proud Bhima, suppressing his rising rage and following the steps of Yudhishthira, also spake these words while going out of the Kaurava court, 'I will slay Duryodhana, and Dhananjaya will slay Karna, and Sahadeva will slay Sakuni that gambler with dice. I also repeat in this assembly these proud words which the gods will assuredly make good, if ever we engage in battle with the Kurus, I will slay this wretched Duryodhana in battle with my mace, and prostrating him on the ground I will place my foot on his head. And as regards this (other) wicked person--Dussasana who is audacious in speech, I will drink his blood like a lion.' "And Arjuna said,--'O Bhima, the resolutions of superior men are not known in words only. On the fourteenth year from this day, they shall see what happeneth.' "And Bhima again said,--'The earth shall drink the blood of Duryodhana, and Karna, and the wicked Sakuni, and Dussasana that maketh the fourth.' "And Arjuna said,--'O Bhima, I will, as thou directest, slay in battle this Karna so malicious and jealous and harsh-speeched and vain. For doing what is agreeable to Bhima, Arjuna voweth that he will slay in battle with his arrows this Karna with all his followers. And I will send unto the regions of Yama also all those other kings that will from foolishness fight against me. The mountains of Himavat might be removed from where they are, the maker of the day lose his brightness, the moon his coldness, but this vow of mine will ever be cherished. And all this shall assuredly happen if on the fourteenth year from this, Duryodhana doth not, with proper respect, return us our kingdom.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"After Arjuna had said this, Sahadeva the handsome son of Madri, endued with great energy, desirous of slaying Sakuni, waving his mighty arms and sighing like snake, exclaimed, with eyes red with anger--'Thou disgrace of the Gandhara kings, those whom thou thinkest as defeated are not really so. Those are even sharp-pointed arrows from whose wounds thou hast run the risk in battle. I shall certainly accomplish all which Bhima hath said adverting to thee with all thy followers. If therefore thou hast anything to do, do it before that day cometh. I shall assuredly slay thee in battle with all thy followers soon enough, it thou, O son of Suvala, stayest in the light pursuant to the Kshatriya usage.' "Then, O monarch hearing these words of Sahadeva, Nakula the handsomest of men spake these words,--'I shall certainly send unto the abode of Yama all those wicked sons of Dhritarashtra, who desirous of death and impelled by Fate, and moved also by the wish of doing what is agreeable to Duryodhana, have used harsh and insulting speeches towards this daughter of Yajnasena at the gambling match. Soon enough shall I, at the command of Yudhishthira and remembering the wrongs to Draupadi, make the earth destitute of the sons of Dhritarashtra.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"And those tigers among men, all endued with long arms, having thus pledged themselves to virtuous promises approached king Dhritarashtra. SECTION LXXVII "Yudhishthira said,--'I bid farewell unto all the Bharatas, unto my old grand-sire (Bhishma), king Somadatta, the great king Vahlika, Drona, Kripa, all the other kings, Aswathaman, Vidura, Dhritarashtra, all the sons of Dhritarashtra, Yayutsu, Sanjaya, and all the courtiers, I bid fare well, all of ye and returning again I shall see you."" Vaisampayana continued,--"Overcome with shame none of those that were present there, could tell Yudhishthira anything. Within their hearts, however, they prayed for the welfare of that intelligent prince. "Vidura then said,--'The reverend Pritha is a princess by birth. It behoveth her not to go into the woods. Delicate and old and ever known to happiness the blessed one will live, respected by me, in my abode. Known this, ye sons of Pandu. And let safety be always yours.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The Pandavas thereupon said,--'O sinless one, let it be as thou sayest. Thou art our uncle, and, therefore like as our father. We also are all obedient to thee. Thou art, O learned one, our most respected superior. We should always obey what thou choosest to command. And, O high-souled one, order thou whatever else there is that remaineth to be done.' "Vidura replied,--'O Yudhishthira, O bull of the Bharata race, know this to be my opinion, that one that is vanquished by sinful means need not be pained by such defeat. Thou knowest every rule of morality; Dhananjaya is ever victorious in battle; Bhimasena is the slayer of foes; Nakula is the gatherer of wealth; Sahadeva hath administrative talents, Dhaumya is the foremost of all conversant with the vedas; and the well-behaved Draupadi is conversant with virtue and economy. Ye are attached to one another and feel delight at one another's sight and enemies can not separate you from one another, and ye are contented. Therefore, who is there that will not envy ye? O Bharata, this patient abstraction from the possession of the world will be of great benefit to thee. No foe, even if he were equal to sakra himself, will be able to stand it. Formerly thou wert instructed on the mountains of Himavat by Meru Savarni; in the town of Varanavata by Krishna Dwaipayana; on the cliff of Bhrigu by Rama; and on the banks of the Dhrishadwati by Sambhu himself. Thou hast also listened to the instruction of the great Rishi Asita on the hills of Anjana; and thou becamest a disciple of Bhrigu on the banks of the Kalmashi. Narada and this thy priest Dhaumya will now become thy instructors. In the matter of the next world, abandon not these excellent lessons thou hast obtained from the Rishis. O son of Pandu, thou surpassest in intelligence even Pururavas, the son of Ila; in strength, all other monarchs; and in virtue, even the Rishis. Therefore, resolve thou earnestly to win victory, which belongeth to Indra; to control thy wrath, which belongeth to Yama; to give in charity, which belongeth to Kuvera; and to control all passions, which belongeth to Varuna. And, O Bharata, obtain thou the power of gladdening from the moon, the power of sustaining all from water; forbearance from the earth; energy from the entire solar disc; strength from the winds, and affluence from the other elements. Welfare and immunity from ailment be thine; I hope to see thee return. And, O Yudhishthira, act properly and duly in all seasons,--in those of distress--in those of difficulty,--indeed, in respect of everything, O son of Kunti, with our leave go hence. O Bharata, blessing be thine. No one can say that ye have done anything sinful before. We hope to see thee, therefore, return in safety and crowned with success.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Thus addressed by Vidura, Yudhishthira the son of Pandu, of prowess incapable of being baffled, saying, 'So be it,' bowing low unto Bhishma and Drona, went away." SECTION LXXVIII Vaisampayana said,--"Then when Draupadi was about to set out she went unto the illustrious Pritha and solicited her leave. And she also asked leave of the other ladies of the household who had all been plunged into grief. And saluting and embracing every one of them as each deserved, she desired to go away. Then there arose within the inner apartments of the Pandavas a loud wail of woe. And Kunti, terribly afflicted upon beholding Draupadi on the eve of her journey, uttered these words in a voice choked with grief,-- "'O child, grieve not that this great calamity hath overtaken thee. Thou art well conversant with the duties of the female sex, and thy behaviour and conduct also are as they should be. It behoveth me not, O thou of sweet smiles, to instruct thee as to thy duties towards thy lords. Thou art chaste and accomplished, and thy qualities have adorned the race of thy birth as also the race into which thou hast been admitted by marriage. Fortunate are the Kauravas that they have not been burnt by thy wrath. O child, safely go thou blest by my prayers. Good women never suffer their hearts to the unstung at what is inevitable. Protected by virtue that is superior to everything, soon shalt thou obtain good fortune. While living in the woods, keep thy eye on my child Sahadeva. See that his heart sinketh not under this great calamity.' "Saying 'So be it!' the princess Draupadi bathed in tears, and clad in one piece of cloth, stained with blood, and with hair dishevelled left her mother-in-law. And as she went away weeping and wailing Pritha herself in grief followed her. She had not gone far when she saw her sons shorn of their ornaments and robes, their bodies clad in deerskins, and their heads down with shame. And she beheld them surrounded by rejoicing foes and pitied by friends. Endued with excess of parental affection, Kunti approached her sons in that state, and embracing them all, and in accents choked by woe, She said these words,-- "'Ye are virtuous and good-mannered, and adorned with all excellent qualities and respectful behaviour. Ye are all high-minded, and engaged in the service of your superiors. And ye are also devoted to the gods and the performance of sacrifices. Why, then, hath this calamity overtaken you. Whence is this reverse of fortune? I do not see by whose wickedness this sin hath overtaken you. Alas I have brought you forth. All this must be due to my ill fortune. It is for this that ye have been overtaken by this calamity, though ye all are endued with excellent virtues. In energy and prowess and strength and firmness and might, ye are not wanting. How shall ye now, losing your wealth and possessions, live poor in the pathless woods? If I had known before that ye were destined to live in the woods, I would not have on Pandu's death come from the mountains of Satasringa to Hastinapore. Fortunate was your father, as I now regard, for he truly reaped the fruit of his asceticism, and he was gifted with foresight, as he entertained the wish of ascending heaven, without having to feel any pain on account of his sons. Fortunate also was the virtuous Madri, as I regard her today, who had, it seems, a fore-knowledge of what would happen and who on that account, obtained the high path of emancipation and every blessing therewith. Ah, Madri looked upon me as her stay, and her mind and her affections were ever fixed on me. Oh, fie on my desire of life, owing to which suffer all this woe. Ye children, ye are all excellent and dear unto me. I have obtained you after much suffering. I cannot leave you. Even I will go with you. Alas, O Krishna, (Draupadi), why dost thou leave me so? Everything endued with life is sure to perish. Hath Dhata (Brahma) himself forgotten to ordain my death? Perhaps, it is so, and, therefore, life doth not quit me. O Krishna, O thou who dwellest in Dwaraka, O younger brother of Sankarshana, where art thou? Why dost thou not deliver me and these best of men also from such woe? They say that thou who art without beginning and without end deliverest those that think of thee. Why doth this saying become untrue. These my sons are ever attached to virtue and nobility and good fame and prowess. They deserve not to suffer affliction. Oh, show them mercy. Alas, when there are such elders amongst our race as Bhishma and Drona and Kripa, all conversant with morality and the science of worldly concerns, how could such calamity at all come? O Pandu, O king, where art thou? Why sufferest thou quietly thy good children to be thus sent into exile, defeated at dice? O Sahadeva, desist from going. Thou art my dearest child, dearer, O son of Madri, than my body itself. Forsake me not. It behoveth thee to have some kindness for me. Bound by the ties of virtue, let these thy brothers go. But then, earn thou that virtue which springeth from waiting upon me.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"The Pandavas then consoled their weeping mother and with hearts plunged in grief set out for the woods. And Vidura himself also much afflicted, consoling the distressed Kunti with reasons, and led her slowly to his house. And the ladies of Dhritarashtra's house, hearing everything as it happened, viz., the exile (of the Pandavas) and the dragging of Krishna into the assembly where the princes had gambled, loudly wept censuring the Kauravas. And the ladies of the royal household also sat silent for a long time, covering their lotus-like faces with their fair hands. And king Dhritarashtra also thinking of the dangers that threatened his sons, became a prey to anxiety and could not enjoy peace of mind. And anxiously meditating on everything, and with mind deprived of its equanimity through grief, he sent a messenger unto Vidura, saying, 'Let Kshatta come to me without a moment's delay.' "At this summons, Vidura quickly came to Dhritarashtra's palace. And as soon as he came, the monarch asked him with great anxiety how the Pandavas had left Hastinapore." SECTION LXXIX Vaisampayana said,--"As soon as Vidura endued with great foresight came unto him king Dhritarashtra, the son of Amvika, timidly asked his brother,--'How doth Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, proceed along? And how Arjuna? And how the twin sons of Madri? And how, O Kshatta, doth Dhaumya proceed along? And how the illustrious Draupadi? I desire to hear everything, O Kshatta; describe to me all their acts.' "Vidura replied,--'Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, hath gone away covering his face with his cloth. And Bhima, O king, hath gone away looking at his own mighty arms. And Jishnu (Arjuna) hath gone away, following the king spreading sand-grains around. And Sahadeva, the son of Madri, hath gone away besmearing his face, and Nakula, the handsomest of men, O king, hath gone away, staining himself with dust and his heart in great affliction. And the large-eyed and beautiful Krishna hath gone away, covering her face with her dishevelled hair following in the wake of the king, weeping and in tears. And O monarch, Dhaumya goeth along the road, with kusa grass in hand, and uttering the aweful mantras of Sama Veda that relate to Yama.' "Dhritarashtra asked,--'Tell me, O Vidura, why is it that the Pandavas are leaving Hastinapore in such varied guise.' "Vidura replied,--'Though persecuted by thy sons and robbed of his kingdom and wealth the mind of the wise king Yudhishthira the just hath not yet deviated from the path of virtue. King Yudhishthira is always kind, O Bharata, to thy children. Though deprived (of his kingdom and possessions) by foul means, filled with wrath as he is, he doth not open eyes. "I should not burn the people by looking at them with angry eyes,"--thinking so, the royal son of Pandu goeth covering his face. Listen to me as I tell thee, O bull of the Bharata race, why Bhima goeth so. "There is none equal to me in strength of arms," thinking so Bhima goeth repeatedly stretching forth his mighty arms. And, O king, proud of the strength of his arms, Vrikodara goeth, exhibiting them and desiring to do unto his enemies deeds worthy of those arms. And Arjuna the son of Kunti, capable of using both his arms (in wielding the Gandiva) followeth the footsteps of Yudhishthira, scattering sand-grains emblematical of the arrows he would shower in battle. O Bharata, he indicateth that as the sand-grains are scattered by him with ease, so will he rain arrows with perfect ease on the foe (in time of battle). And Sahadeva goeth besmearing his face, thinking "None may recognise me in this day of trouble." And, O exalted one, Nakula goeth staining himself with dust thinking, "Lest otherwise I steal the hearts of the ladies that may look at me." And Draupadi goeth, attired in one piece of stained cloth, her hair dishevelled, and weeping, signifying--"The wives of those for whom I have been reduced to such a plight, shall on the fourteenth year hence be deprived of husbands, sons and relatives and dear ones and smeared all over with blood, with hair dishevelled and all in their feminine seasons enter Hastinapore having offered oblations of water (unto the manes of those they will have lost)." And O Bharata, the learned Dhaumya with passions under full control, holding the kusa grass in his hand and pointing the same towards the south-west, walketh before, singing the mantras of the Sama Veda that relate to Yama. And, O monarch, that learned Brahamana goeth, also signifying, "When the Bharatas shall be slain in battle, the priests of the Kurus will thus sing the Soma mantras (for the benefit of the deceased)." And the citizens, afflicted with great grief, are repeatedly crying out, "Alas, alas, behold our masters are going away! O fie on the Kuru elders that have acted like foolish children in thus banishing heirs of Pandu from covetousness alone. Alas, separated from the son of Pandu we all shall become masterless. What love can we bear to the wicked and avaricious Kurus?" Thus O king, have the sons of Kunti, endued with great energy of mind, gone away,--indicating, by manner and signs, the resolutions that are in their hearts. And as those foremost of men had gone away from Hastinapore, flashes of lightning appeared in the sky though without clouds and the earth itself began to tremble. And Rahu came to devour the Sun, although it was not the day of conjunction. And meteors began to fall, keeping the city to their right. And jackals and vultures and ravens and other carnivorous beasts and birds began to shriek and cry aloud from the temples of the gods and the tops of sacred trees and walls and house-tops. And these extraordinary calamitous portents, O king, were seen and heard, indicating the destruction of the Bharatas as the consequence of thy evil counsels.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"And, O monarch, while king Dhritarashtra and the wise Vidura were thus talking with each other, there appeared in that assembly of the Kauravas and before the eyes of all, the best of the celestial Rishis. And appearing before them all, he uttered these terrible words, On the fourteenth year hence, the Kauravas, in consequence of Duryodhana's fault, will all be destroyed by the might of Bhima and Arjuna. And having said this, that best of celestial Rishis, adorned with surpassing Vedic grace, passing through the skies, disappeared from the scene. Then Duryodhana and Karna and Sakuni, the son of Suvala regarding Drona as their sole refuge, offered the kingdom to him. Drona then, addressing the envious and wrathful Duryodhana and Dussasana and Karna and all the Bharata, said, 'The Brahamanas have said that the Pandavas being of celestial origin are incapable of being slain. The sons of Dhritarashtra, however, having, with all the kings, heartily and with reverence sought my protection, I shall look after them to the best of my power. Destiny is supreme, I cannot abandon them. The sons of Pandu, defeated at dice, are going into exile in pursuance of their promise. They will live in the woods for twelve years. Practising the Brahmacharyya mode of life for this period, they will return in anger and to our great grief take the amplest vengeance on their foes. I had formerly deprived Drupada of his kingdom in a friendly dispute. Robbed of his kingdom by me, O Bharata, the king performed a sacrifice for obtaining a son (that should slay me). Aided by the ascetic power of Yaja and Upayaja, Drupada obtained from the (sacrificial) fire a son named Dhrishtadyumna and a daughter, viz., the faultless Krishna, both risen from the sacrificial platform. That Dhrishtadyumna is the brother-in-law of the sons of Pandu by marriage, and dear unto them. It is for him, therefore that I have much fear. Of celestial origin and resplendent as the fire, he was born with bow, arrows, and encased in mail. I am a being that is mortal. Therefore it is for him that I have great fear. That slayer of all foes, the son of Parshatta, hath taken the side of the Pandavas. I shall have to lose my life, if he and I ever encounter each other in battle. What grief can be greater to me in this world than this, ye Kauravas that Dhrishtadyumna is the destined slayer of Drona--this belief is general. That he hath been born for slaying me hath been heard by me and is widely known also in the world. For thy sake, O Duryodhana, that terrible season of destruction is almost come. Do without loss of time, what may be beneficial unto thee. Think not that everything hath been accomplished by sending the Pandavas into exile. This thy happiness will last for but a moment, even as in winter the shadow of the top of the palm tree resteth (for a short time) at its base. Perform various kinds of sacrifices, and enjoy, and give O Bharata, everything thou likest. On the fourteenth year hence, a great calamity will overwhelm thee.'" Vaisampayana continued,--"Hearing these words of Drona, Dhritarashtra said,--'O Kshatta, the preceptor hath uttered what is true. Go thou and bring back the Pandavas. If they do not come back, let them go treated with respect and affection. Let those my sons go with weapons, and cars, and infantry, and enjoying every other good thing.'" SECTION LXXX Vaisampayana said,--"defeated at dice, after the Pandavas had gone to the woods, Dhritarashtra, O king, was overcome with anxiety. And while he was seated restless with anxiety and sighing in grief, Sanjaya approaching him said, 'O lord of the earth having now obtained the whole earth with all its wealth and sent away the sons of Pandu into exile, why is it, O king, that thou grievest so?' "Dhritarashtra said,--'What have they not to grieve for who will have to encounter in battle those bulls among warriors--the sons of Pandu--fighting on great cars and aided by allies?' "Sanjaya said,--'O king, all this great hostility is inevitable on account of thy mistaken action, and this will assuredly bring about the wholesale destruction of the whole world. Forbidden by Bhishma, by Drona, and by Vidura, thy wicked-minded and shameless son Duryodhana sent his Suta messenger commanding him to bring into court the beloved and virtuous wife of the Pandavas. The gods first deprive that man of his reason unto whom they send defeat and disgrace. It is for this that such a person seeth things in a strange light. When destruction is at hand, evil appeareth as good unto the understanding polluted by sin, and the man adhereth to it firmly. That which is improper appeareth as proper, and that which is proper appeareth as improper unto the man about to be overwhelmed by destruction, and evil and impropriety are what he liketh. The time that bringeth on destruction doth not come with upraised club and smash one's head. On the other hand the peculiarity of such a time is that it maketh a man behold evil in good and good in evil. The wretches have brought on themselves this terrible, wholesale, and horrible destruction by dragging the helpless princess of Panchala into the court. Who else than Duryodhana--that false player of dice could bring into the assembly, with insults, the daughter of Drupada, endued with beauty and intelligence, and conversant with every rule of morality and duty, and sprung not from any woman's womb but from the sacred fire? The handsome Krishna, then in her season, attired in one piece of stained cloth when brought into the court cast her eyes upon the Pandavas. She beheld them, however, robbed of their wealth, of their kingdom, of even their attire, of their beauty, of every enjoyment, and plunged into a state of bondage. Bound by the tie of virtue, they were then unable to exert their prowess. And before all the assembled kings Duryodhana and Karna spake cruel and harsh words unto the distressed and enraged Krishna undeserving of such treatment. O monarch, all this appeareth to me as foreboding fearful consequences.' "Dhritarashtra said,--'O Sanjaya, the glances of the distressed daughter of Drupada might consume the whole earth. Can it be possible that even a single son of mine will live? The wives of the Bharatas, uniting with Gandhari upon beholding virtuous Krishna, the wedded wife of the Pandavas, endued with beauty and youth, dragged into the court, set up frightful wail. Even now, along with all my subjects, they weep every day. Enraged at the ill treatment of Draupadi, the Brahmanas in a body did not perform that evening their Agnihotra ceremony. The winds blew mightily as they did at the time of the universal dissolution. There was a terrible thunder-storm also. Meteors fell from the sky, and Rahu by swallowing the Sun unseasonably alarmed the people terribly. Our war-chariots were suddenly ablaze, and all their flagstaffs fell down foreboding evil unto the Bharatas. Jackals began to cry frightfully from within the sacred fire-chamber of Duryodhana, and asses from all directions began to bray in response. Then Bhishma and Drona, and Kripa, and Somadatta and the high-souled Vahlika, all left the assembly. It was then that at the advice of Vidura I addressed Krishna and said, "I will grant thee boons, O Krishna, indeed, whatever thou wouldst ask?" The princess of the Panchala there begged of me the liberation of the Pandavas. Out of my own motion I then set free the Pandavas, commanding them to return (to their capital) on their cars and with their bows and arrows. It was then that Vidura told me, "Even this will prove the destruction of the Bharata race, viz., this dragging of Krishna into the court. This daughter of the King of Panchala is the faultless Sree herself. Of celestial origin, she is the wedded wife of the Pandavas. The wrathful sons of Pandu will never forgive this insult offered unto her. Nor will the mighty bowmen of the Vrishni race, nor the mighty warriors amongst the Panchalas suffer this in silence. Supported by Vasudeva of unbaffled prowess, Arjuna will assuredly come back, surrounded by the Panchala host. And that mighty warrior amongst them, Bhimasena endued with surpassing strength, will also come back, whirling his mace like Yama himself with his club. These kings will scarcely be able to bear the force of Bhima's mace. Therefore, O king, not hostility but peace for ever with the sons of Pandu is what seemeth to me to be the best. The sons of Pandu are always stronger than the Kurus. Thou knowest, O king, that the illustrious and mighty king Jarasandha was slain in battle by Bhima with his bare arms alone. Therefore, O bull of the Bharata race, it behoveth thee to make peace with the sons of Pandu. Without scruples of any kind, unite the two parties, O king. And if thou actest in this way, thou art sure to obtain good luck, O king." It was thus, O son of Gavalgani, that Vidura addressed me in words of both virtue and profit. And I did not accept this counsel, moved by affection for my son.'" The End of Sabha Parva 
46531	----	THE YOGA-VASISHTHA MAHARAMAYANA OF VALMIKI in 4 vols. in 7 pts. (Bound in 4.) Vol. 3 (In 2 pts.) Bound in one. Containing Upasama Khanda and Nirvána Khanda _Translated from the original Sanskrit_ _By_ VIHARI-LALA MITRA CONTENTS OF NIRVÁNA-PRAKARANA. BOOK VI. (ON ULTIMATE EXTINCTION.) CHAPTER I. PAGE. Description of the Evening and Breaking of the assembly 1 CHAPTER II. On the perfect calm and composure of the mind 7 CHAPTER III. On the unity and Universality of Brahma 15 CHAPTER IV. Want of anxiety in the way of Salvation 18 CHAPTER V. The narration of Ráma's perfect rest 20 CHAPTER VI. The narration of Delirium (moha) 22 CHAPTER VII Magnitude or preponderance of ignorance 29 CHAPTER VIII. Allegory of the spreading arbour of Ignorance 39 CHAPTER IX. Ascertainment of True knowledge 44 CHAPTER X. Removal of Ignorance 50 CHAPTER XI. Ascertainment of Living Liberation 58 CHAPTER XII. Reasoning on the doubts of the living liberation 69 CHAPTER XIII. The Two Yogas of Knowledge and Reasoning 73 CHAPTER XIV. Narration of Bhusunda and description of Mount Meru 75 CHAPTER XV. Vasishtha's visit to Bhusunda 79 CHAPTER XVI. Conversation of Vasishtha and Bhusunda 84 CHAPTER XVII. Description of Bhusunda's Person 87 CHAPTER XVIII. Manners of the Mátrika Goddesses 88 CHAPTER XIX. Bhusunda's nativity and habitation 93 CHAPTER XX. Explication of the mysterious character of Bhusunda 99 CHAPTER XXI. Explanation of the cause of the crow's longevity 105 CHAPTER XXII. Account of past ages 112 CHAPTER XXIII. Desire of Tranquillity and Quiescence of the Mind 119 CHAPTER XXIV. Investigation of the Living Principle 124 CHAPTER XXV. On Samádhi 129 CHAPTER XXVI. Relation of the cause of Longevity 137 CHAPTER XXVII. Conclusion of the narrative of Bhusunda 143 CHAPTER XXVIII. Lecture on Theopathy or spiritual meditation 146 CHAPTER XXIX. Pantheism or Description of the world as full with the Supreme Soul 158 CHAPTER XXX. Inquiry into the nature of the Intellect 176 CHAPTER XXXI. Identity of the mind and living soul 189 CHAPTER XXXII. On the sustentation and dissolution of the body 197 CHAPTER XXXIII. Resolution of duality into unity 204 CHAPTER XXXIV. Sermon of Siva on the same subject 211 CHAPTER XXXV. Adoration of the great god Mahádeva 216 CHAPTER XXXVI. Description of the supreme Deity Parameswara 220 CHAPTER XXXVII. The stage play and dance of destiny 223 CHAPTER XXXVIII. On the external worship of the Deity 227 CHAPTER XXXIX. Mode of the Internal worship of the Deity 231 CHAPTER XXXX. Inquiry into the nature of the Deity 238 CHAPTER XXXXI. Vanity of world and worldly things 240 CHAPTER XXXXII. The supreme soul and its phases and names 247 CHAPTER XXXXIII. On rest and Tranquillity 251 CHAPTER XXXXIV. Inquiry into the essence of the mind 256 CHAPTER XXXXV. Story of the vilva or Belfruit 261 CHAPTER XXXXVI. Parable of the stony sheath of the soul 266 CHAPTER XXXXVII. Lecture on the density of the Intellect 272 CHAPTER XXXXVIII. On the Unity and Identity of Brahmá and the world 277 CHAPTER XXXXIX. Contemplation of the course of the world 280 CHAPTER L. On sensation and the objects of senses 285 CHAPTER LI. On the perception of the sensible objects 291 CHAPTER LII. Story of Arjuna, as the Incarnation of Nara-Naráyana 299 CHAPTER LIII. Admonition of Arjuna 304 CHAPTER LIV. Admonition of Arjuna in the spiritual knowledge 313 CHAPTER LV. Lecture on the Living soul or Jívatatwa 316 CHAPTER LVI. Description of the mind 324 CHAPTER LVII. On Abandonment of desire and its result of Tranquillity 329 CHAPTER LVIII. Arjuna's satisfaction at the sermon 331 CHAPTER LIX. Knowledge of the latent and inscrutable soul 334 CHAPTER LX. Knowledge of the majesty and grandeur of God 340 CHAPTER LXI. Description of the world as a passing dream 343 CHAPTER LXII. In the narration of Jívata an example of domestic and mendicant life 344 CHAPTER LXIII. Dream of Jívata 349 CHAPTER LXIV. On the attainment of attendantship on the God Rudra 359 CHAPTER LXV. Ráma's wonder at the error of men 364 CHAPTER LXVI. The wonderings of the mendicant 367 CHAPTER LXVII. Unity of God 371 CHAPTER LXVIII. On the virtue of Taciturnity 376 CHAPTER LXIX. Union of the mind with the breath of life 380 CHAPTER LXX. Interrogatories of Vitála 388 CHAPTER LXXI. The prince's reply to the first question of the Vitála 391 CHAPTER LXXII. Answers to the remaining questions 394 CHAPTER LXXIII. End of the story of the Vitála Demon 396 CHAPTER LXXIV. Account and admonition of Bhagíratha 398 CHAPTER LXXV. Supineness of Bhagíratha 403 CHAPTER LXXVI. The Descent of Gangá on earth 406 CHAPTER LXXVII. Narrative of Chúdálá and Sikhidhwaja 409 CHAPTER LXXVIII. Beautification of Chúdálá 416 CHAPTER LXXIX. Princess coming to the sight of the supreme soul 423 CHAPTER LXXX. Display of the quintuple Elements 427 CHAPTER LXXXI. Inquiry into Agni, Soma or fire and moon 438 CHAPTER LXXXII. Yoga instructions for acquirement of the supernatural powers of Animá-minuteness &c. 454 CHAPTER LXXXIII. Story of the miserly Kiráta 455 CHAPTER LXXXIV. Pilgrimage of prince Sikhidhwaja 463 CHAPTER LXXXV. Investigation into true happiness 471 CHAPTER LXXXVI. The production of the Pot (or the embryonic cell) 488 CHAPTER LXXXVII. Continuation of the same and enlightenment of 492 Sikhidhwaja CHAPTER LXXXVIII. The tale of the Crystal gem 498 CHAPTER LXXXIX. The Parable of an Elephant 502 CHAPTER LXXXX. Way to obtain the Philosopher's stone 506 CHAPTER LXXXXI. Interpretation of the parable of the Elephant 510 CHAPTER LXXXXII. The Prince's Abjuration of his Asceticism 513 CHAPTER LXXXXIII. Admonition of Sikhidhwaja 518 CHAPTER LXXXXIV. Enlightenment of Sikhidhwaja 526 CHAPTER LXXXXV. The anaesthetic Platonism of Sikhidhwaja 534 CHAPTER LXXXXVI. Enlightenment of Sikhidhwaja 537 CHAPTER LXXXXVII. Enlightenment of the prince in Theosophy 544 CHAPTER LXXXXVIII. Admonition of Sikhidhwaja continued 547 CHAPTER LXXXXIX. Remonstration of Sikhidhwaja 551 CHAPTER C. Continuation of the same subject 555 CHAPTER CI. Admonition of Chúdálá 559 CHAPTER CII. Repose of Sikhidhwaja in the divine spirit 566 CHAPTER CIII. Return of Kumbha to the Hermitage of Sikhidhwaja 568 CHAPTER CIV. On the conduct of living-liberated men 575 CHAPTER CV. Metamorphoses of Kumbha to a female form 580 CHAPTER CVI. Marriage of Chúdálá with Sikhidhwaja 586 CHAPTER CVII. The advent of false Indra in the cottage of the happy pair 593 CHAPTER CVIII. Manifestation of Chúdálá in her own form 597 CHAPTER CIX. Appearance of Chúdálá in her presence of her Lord 601 CHAPTER CX. Final extinction of Sikhidhwaja 610 CHAPTER CXI. Story of Kacha and his enlightment by the Brihaspati 614 CHAPTER CXII. A fanciful Being and his occupation of air drawn and air-built abodes 619 CHAPTER CXIII. The parable of the vain man continued 623 CHAPTER CXIV. Sermon on Divine and Holy knowledge 626 CHAPTER CXV. Description of the triple conduct of men 630 CHAPTER CXVI. Melting down of the mind 636 CHAPTER CXVII. Dialogue between Manu and Ikshaku 638 CHAPTER CXVIII. Continuation of the same 640 CHAPTER CXIX. The same subject continued 643 CHAPTER CXX. Continuation of the same. On the seven stages of Edification 645 CHAPTER CXXI. Continuation of the same 649 CHAPTER CXXII. The same. Manu's admonition to Ikshaku 652 CHAPTER CXXIII. On the difference between the knowing and unknowing 655 CHAPTER CXXIV. The story of the stag and the huntsman 656 CHAPTER CXXV. The means of attaining the steadiness of the Turya state 661 CHAPTER CXXVI. Description of the spiritual state 663 CHAPTER CXXVII. Admonition to Bharadwája 675 CHAPTER CXXVIII. Resuscitation of Ráma 683 YOGA VASISHTHA BOOK VI. NIRVÁNA-PRAKARANA. ON ULTIMATE EXTINCTION. PÚRVÁRDHA. OR THE FORMER OR FIRST HALF. PART I. CHAPTER I. DESCRIPTION OF THE EVENING AND BREAKING OF THE ASSEMBLY. Argument.--The close of the day, its announcement, the court breaks for Evening service, and the effect of the Sage's sermon on the Audience. Válmíki says:--You have heard the relation of the subject of Stoicism or composure of the soul; attend now to that of Nirvána, which will teach you how to attain the final liberation of yourselves[A]. [A] Note. Nirvána or ultimate annihilation of the living or animal soul, being the aim and end of Buddhism, it is doubtful whether Vasishtha had derived his doctrine from the Buddhists or they from him. 2. As the chief of Sages was saying his magniloquent speech in this manner, and the princes remained mute with their intense attention to the ravishing oration of the Sage: 3. The assembled chiefs remained there as silent and motionless portraits, and forgot their devotions and duties, by being impressed in their minds with the sense and words of the Sage's speech. 4. The assemblage of Saints, was reverently pondering upon the deep sense of the words of the Sage, with their curled brows and signs of their index fingers (indicating their wonder). 5. The ladies in the Seraglio were lost in wonder, and turned upward their wondering eyes, resembling a cluster of black bees, sucking intently the nectarious honey of the new blown flowers (of the Sage's speech). 6. The glorious sun sank down in the sky, at the fourth or last watch of the day; and was shorn of his radiant beams as he was setting in the west (as a man becomes mild with his knowledge, of truth at the end of his journey through life). 7. The winds blew softly at the eve of the day, as if to listen to the sermon of the Sage, and wafted about the sweets of his moving speech, like the fragrance of the gently shaking mandara flowers. 8. All other sounds were drowned in the deep meditation of the audience, as when the humming of the bumble bees, is pushed in their repose, amidst the cell of blooming flowers at night. 9. The bubbling waters of the pearly lakes, sparkled unmoved amidst their embordered beds; as if they were intently attentive to listen to the words of the Sage, which dropped as strings of pearls from his flippant lips. (So the verse of Hafiz affixed to the title page of Sir William Jones' Persian grammar: "Thou hast spoken thy verse, and strung a string of pearls"). 10. The pencil of the declining ray penetrating the windows of the palace, bespoke the halting of the departing sun, under the cooling shade of the royal canopy, after his weary journey all along the livelong day. 11. The pearly rays (or bright beams) of the parting day, being covered by the dust and mist of the dusk, it seemed to be besmeared as the body of a dervish with dust and ashes; and had gained its coolness after its journey under the burning sun (The cool and dusky eve of the day is compared with the dust-sprinkled body of the ascetic approaching to his cell). 12. The chiefs of men with their heads and hands decorated with flowers, were so regaled with the sweet speech of the Sage, that they altogether remained enrapt in their senses and minds. 13. The ladies listening to the sage, were now roused by the cries of their infants and the birds in their cages, to get up from the place and to give them their suck and food. (It means that the birds and boys, were alone insensible of the Sage's discourse). 14. Now the dust flung by the pinions of fluttering bees, covered the petals of the night blooming kumuda flowers; and the flapping _chouries_ were now at rest, with the tremulous eyelids of the princes. 15. The rays of the sun, fearing to be waylaid by the dark night shade, which had now got loose from the dark mountain caves, fled through the windows to the inner apartment of the palace (which was already lighted with lamps). 16. The time watches of the royal palace, knowing it to be passed the fourth watch of the day, sounded aloud their drums and trumpets, mingled with the sound of conch-shells, loudly resounding on all sides. 17. The high-sounding speech of the sage, was drowned under the loud peal of the jarring instruments; as the sonorous sound of the peacock, is hushed under the uproar of roaring clouds. 18. The birds in the cages, began to quake and shake their wings with fear; and the leaves and branches of the lofty palm trees, shook in the gardens, as by a tremendous earthquake. 19. The babes sleeping on the breasts of their nurses, trembled with fear at the loud uproar; and they cried as the smoking clouds of the rainy season, resounding between the two mountain craigs resembling the breasts. (It is common in Indian poetry to compare the swelling breasts to rising hills, and say _Kucha giri_). 20. This noise made the helmets of the chieftains, shed the dust of their decorating flowers all about the hall; as the moving waves of the lake, sprinkle the drops of water upon the land.[A] [A] In this verse there is the continuation of the world shaking understood through the intermediate steps. Thus the noise startled the chiefs, which shook their bodies, and these shook their heads, which caused their helmets to shake: these again shook the garlands of flowers upon them, and at last shed their dust on the ground. This kind of figure is called Krama mála corresponding with Metalepsis gradation; as we have in the following instance of Dido's exclamation in Virgil. "Happy, Oh truly happy had I been; if Trojan ships these coasts had never seen." Here the first seeing is that of the ships and then of the Trojans in them, and afterwards of Æneas as one among them, and then of her seeing him, and his seeing her, and lastly of her passion at his sight. 21. Thus the palace of Dasharatha being full of trepidation at the close of the day, regained its quiet at the gradual fall of the fanfare of sounding conch shells, and the hubbub of drum beatings at the advance of night. 22. The Sage put a stop to his present discourse, and addressed Ráma then sitting in the midst of the assembly, in a sweet voice and graceful language. (Mudhura-Vritti is the middle or graceful style between the high and low). 23. Vasishtha said:--O Rághava! I have already spread before you the long net of my verbosity; do you entrap your flying mind in the same way, and bring it to your bosom and under your subjection. 24. Take the purport of my discourse in such manner, as to leave out what is unintelligible, and lay hold on its substance; as the swan separates and sucks the milk which is mixed with water. 25. Ponder upon it repeatedly, and consider it well in thy mind, and go on in this way to conduct yourself in life (_viz_ by suppression of your desires, weakening the mind, restraining the breathing, and acquiring of knowledge). 26. By going on in this manner, you are sure to evade all dangers; or else you must fall ere long like the heavy elephant, in some pitfall of the Vindhya mountain. (Pitfalls are the only means of catching elephants). 27. If you do not receive my words with attention, and act accordingly, you are sure to fall into the pit like a blind man left to go alone in the dark; and to be blown away like a lighted lamp, exposed in the open air. 28. In order to derive the benefit of my lectures, you must continue in the discharge of your usual duties with indifference, and knowing _insouciance_ to be the right dictum of the _sástras_, be you regardless of everything besides. 29. Now I bid you, O mighty monarch, and ye, princes and chiefs, and all ye present in this place, to get up and attend to the evening services of your daily ritual. (Abnika). 30. Let all attend to this much at present, as the day is drawing to its close; and we shall consider the rest, on our meeting in the next morning. 31. Válmíki related:--After the Sage had said so far, the assembly broke, off; and the assembled chiefs and princes rose up, with their faces blooming as the full blown lotuses at the end of the day. 32. The Chiefs having paid their obeisance to the monarch, and made their salutation to Ráma, they did their reverence to the sage, and departed to their respective abodes. 33. Vasishtha rose up from his seat with the royal sage Viswámitra, and they were saluted on their departure by the aerial spirits, who had attended the audience all along. 34. The Sages were followed closely, by the king and chieftains a long way, and they parted after accosting them, according to their rank and dignity on the way; 35. The celestials took their leave of the sage, and betook to their heavenward journey; and the _munis_ repaired to their hermitages in the woods, when some of the saints turned about the palace, like bees flying in about the lotus bush (different directions). 36. The king having offered handfuls of fresh flowers at the feet of Vasishtha, entered the royal seraglio with his royal consorts. 37. But Ráma and his brother princes, kept company with the sage to his hermitage; and having prostrated themselves at his feet, they returned to their princely mansions. 38. The hearers of the sage having arrived at their houses made their ablutions; then worshipped the gods, and offered their offerings to the manes of their ancestors. They then treated their guests and gave alms to beggars. 39. Then they took their meals with their Brahman guests, and members of the family; and their dependants and servants were fed one after the other, according to the rules and customs of their order and caste. 40. After the sun had set down, with the diurnal duties of men, there rose the bright moon on high, with impositions of many nocturnal duties on mankind. 41. At last the great king and the princes, and chiefs of men and the _munis_, together with the sages and saints, and all other terrestrial beings, betook themselves to their several beds, with silken coverlets and bed cloths of various kinds. 42. They lay thinking intensely in themselves, on the admonitions of the sage Vasishtha; on the mode of their passing over the boisterous gulf of this world, by means of this spiritual knowledge. 43. Then they slept and lay with their closed eyelids, for one watch of the night only; and then opened their eyes, like the opening buds of lotuses, to see the light of the day. 44. Ráma and his brother princes, passed full three watches of the night in waking; and pondering over the deep sense of the lectures, of their spiritual guide--Vasishtha. (The present ritual allots three watches of the night to sleep, while formerly they gave but one watch to it). 45. They slept only one and a half watch of the night, with their closed eye lids; and then they shook off the dullness of their sleep, after driving the lassitude of their bodies by a short nap. 46. Now the minds of these, being full of good will, raised by the rising reason in their souls, and knowledge of truth; they felt the crescent of spiritual light lightening their dark bosoms, as the sextant of the moon, illumes the gloom of night; which afterwards disappeared at the approach of daylight, and the gathering broils of daytime. CHAPTER II. ON THE PERFECT CALM AND COMPOSURE OF THE MIND. Argument.--The sages joining the assembly the next morning, and preaching of Divine knowledge to it. Válmíki related: Then the shade of night, with her face as dark as that of the darkened moon, began to waste and wane away; as the darkness of ignorance and the mists of human wishes, vanish before the light of reason. 2. Now the rising sun showed his crown of golden rays, on the top of the eastern mountain, by leaving his rival darkness to take its rest, beyond the western or his setting mount of _astáchala_ (the two mountains mean the eastern and western horizons). 3. Now the morning breeze began to blow, being moistened by the moon-beams, and bearing the particles of ice, as if to wash the face and eyes of the rising sun. 4. Now rose Ráma and Lakshmana, with their attendants also, from their beds and couches; and after discharging their morning services, they repaired to the holy hermitage of Vasishtha. 5. There they saw the Sage coming out of his closet, after discharge of his morning devotion; and worshipped his feet with offerings of _arghya_ (or flowers and presents worthy of him). 6. In a moment afterwards, the hermitage of the Sage was thronged by _munis_ and Bráhmans, and the other princes and chiefs, whose vehicles and cars and horses and elephants, blocked the pathways altogether. 7. Then the Sage being accompanied by these, and attended by their suite and armies; and followed by Ráma and his brothers, was escorted to the palace of the Sovereign King Dasaratha. 8. The king who had discharged his morning service, hastened to receive the Sage before hand; and walked a great way to welcome him, and do him honour and pay his homage. 9. They entered the court hall, which was adorned with flowers and strings of gems and pearls; and there they seated themselves on the rich sofas and seats, which were set in rows for their reception. 10. In a short time the whole audience of the last day, composed both of the terrestrial men and celestial spirits, were all assembled at the spot, and seated in their respective seats of honor. 11. All these entered that graceful hall, and saluted one another with respect; and then the royal court shone as brilliant as a bed of blooming lotuses, gently moved by the fanning breeze. 12. The mixed assemblage of the _munis_ and _rishis_ or the saints and Sages, and the _Vipras_ and _Rájas_ or the Bráhmans and Kshatriyas, sat in proper order, on seats appropriated for all of them. 13. The soft sounds of their mutual greetings and welcomes, gradually faded away; and the sweet voice of the panegyrists and encomiasts, sitting in a corner of the hall, was all hushed and lulled to silence. 14. The sun-beams appearing through the chinks in the windows, seemed to be waiting in order to join the audience, and to listen to the lectures of the Sage. (Another translation has it thus:--The audience crept in the hall, no sooner the sun-beams peeped through the windows). 15. The jingling sound of bracelets, caused by the shaking of hands of the visitors in the hall; was likely to lull to sleep the hearers of the sage. (It was a custom in olden times, to make a tinkling sound to ear, in order to lull one to sleep, as by a kind of mesmerism). 16. Then as Kumára looked reverently on the countenance of his sire Siva, and as Kacha looked with veneration upon the face of the preceptor of the God or Brihaspati; and as Prahlada gazed upon the face of Shukra--the preceptor of demons, and as Suparna viewed the visage of Krishna. 17. So did Ráma gloat upon the countenance of Vasishtha, and his eye-balls rolled upon it, like the black bees fluttering about a full blown lotus. 18. The sage resumed the link of his last lecture, and delivered his eloquent speech to Ráma, who was well versed in eloquence also. 19. Vasishtha said:--Do you remember Ráma! the lecture that I gave yesterday, which was fraught with deep sense and knowledge of transcendental truth? 20. I will now tell you of some other things for your instruction, and you shall have to hear it with attention, for consummation of your spiritual wisdom. 21. Whereas it is the habit of dispassionateness, and the knowledge of truth; whereby we are enabled to ford over the boisterous ocean of the world, you must learn therefore, O Ráma! to practice and gain these betimes. 22. Your full knowledge of all truth, will drive away your bias in untruth; and your riddance from all desire, will save you from all sorrow. (Desire is a burning fire, but want of yearning is want of pain and sorrowing). 23. There exists but one Brahma, unbounded by space and time; He is never limited by either of them; and is the world himself, though it appears to be a distinct duality beside Him. 24. Brahma abides in all infinity and eternity, and is not limited in any thing; He is tranquil and shines with equal effulgence on all bodies; He cannot be any particular thing, beside his nature of universality. 25. Knowing the nature of Brahma as such, be you freed from the knowledge of your egoism (personality); and knowing yourself as the same with him, think yourself as bodiless and as great as he; and thus enjoy the tranquillity and felicity of your soul. 26. There is neither the mind nor the _avidyá_ (or ignorance), nor the living principle, as distinct things in reality; they are all fictitious terms (for the one and same nameless Brahma himself). 27. It is the self-same Brahma, that exhibits himself in the forms of our enjoyments, in the faculties of enjoying them, in our desires and appetites for the same, and in the mind also for their perception. The great Brahma that is without beginning and end, underlies them all, as the great ocean surrounds the earth (and supplies its moisture to every thing upon it). 28. The same Brahma is seen in the form of his intellect (or wisdom) in heavens, on earth and in the infernal regions, as also in the vegetable and animal creations; and there is nothing else beside him. 29. The same Brahma, who has no beginning nor end, spreads himself like the boundless and unfathomable ocean, under all bodies and things; and in whatever we deem as favourable and unfavourable to us, as our friends and our enemies. 30. The fiction of the mind, like that of a dragon, continues so long, as we are subject to the error and ignorance of taking these words for real things; and are unacquainted with the knowledge of Brahma (as pervading all existence). 31. The error of the mind and its perceptibles, continues as long as one believes his personality to consist in his body; and understands the phenomenal world as a reality; and has the selfishness to think such and such things to be his (since there is nothing which actually belongs to any body, besides its temporary use). 32. So long as you do not raise yourself, by the counsel and in the society of the wise and good; and as long as you do not get rid of your ignorance; you cannot escape from the meanness of your belief in the mind. 33. So long as you do not get loose of your worldly thoughts, and have the light of the universal spirit before your view; you cannot get rid of the contracted thoughts of your mind, yourself and the world. 34. As long as there is the blindness of ignorance, and one's subjection to worldly desires; so long there is the delusion of falsehood also, and the fictions of the fallacious mind. 35. As long as the exhalation of yearnings infest the forest of the heart, the _chakora_ or parrot of reason will never resort to it; but fly far away from the infected air. 36. The errors of thought disappear from that mind, which is unattached to sensual enjoyments; which is cool with its pure inappetency, and which has broken loose from its net of avarice. 37. He who has got rid of his thirst and delusion of wealth, and who is conscious of the inward coolness of his soul, and who possesses the tranquillity of his mind; such a person is said to have fled from the province of his anxious thought. 38. He who looks upon unsubstantial things, as unworthy of his regard and _reliance_; and who looks upon his body as extraneous to himself; is never misled by the thoughts of his mind. 39. He who meditates on the infinite mind, and sees all forms of things as ectypes of the universal soul; and who views the world absorbed in himself; is never misled by the erroneous conception of the living principle. 40. The partial view of a distinct mind and a living principle, serves but to mislead a man (to the knowledge of erroneous particulars); all which vanish away, at the sight of the rising sun of the one universal soul. 41. Want of the partial view of the mind, gives the full view of one undivided soul; which consumes the particulars, as the vivid fire burns away the dry leaves of trees, and as the sacrificial fire consumes the oblations of ghee or clarified butter. 42. Those men of great souls, who have known the supreme one, and are self-liberated in their lifetime; have their minds without their essences, and which are therefore called _asatwas_ or nonentities. (These minds, says the gloss, are as the watermarks on the sand, after a channel is dried up (or its waters have receded); meaning that the mind remains in its print but not in its substance). 43. The body of the living liberated man, has a mind employed in its duties, but freed from its desires; such minds are not _chittas_ or active agents, but mere _sattwas_ or passive objects. They are no more self-volitive free agents, but are acted upon by their paramount duties. (Free will is responsible for its acts, but compulsion has no responsibility). 44. They that know the truth, are mindless and unmindful of everything save their duty; they rove about at pleasure and discharge their duties by rote and practice, in order any object to gain. 45. They are calm and cold with all their actions and in all their dealings; they have the members of their bodies and their senses under full control, and know no desire nor duality. 46. The saint having his sight fixed upon his inner soul, sees the world burnt down as straws by the fire of his intellect; and finds his erroneous conceptions of the mind, to fly far away from it, like flitting flies from a conflagration. 47. The mind which is purified by reason, is called the _sattwa_ as said above, and does not give rise to error; as the fried paddy seed, is not productive of the plant (The sattwa mind is spiritless and dead in itself). 48. The word Sattwa means the contrary of Chitta, which latter is used in lexicons to mean the mind, that has the quality of being reborn on account of its actions and desires. (The chitta is defined as the living seed of the mind, and productive of acts and future regenerations, which the Sattwa or deadened mind cannot do). 49. You have to attain the attainable _Sattwa_ or torpid state of your mind, and to have the seed of your active mind or _chitta_, singed by the blaze of your spiritual mind or sattwa. 50. The minds of the learned, which are lighted by reason, are melted down at once to liquidity; but those of the ignorant which are hardened by their worldly desires, will not yield to the force of fire and steel; but continue still to sprout up as the grass, the more they are mowed and put on fire. (The over-growing grass in the fields, though set on fire, will grow again from their unburnt roots, and became as rank as before). 51. Brahma is vast expanse, and such being the vastness of the universe too there is no difference between them; and the intellect of Brahma is as full as the fulness of his essence. 52. The Divine Intellect contains the three worlds, as the pepper has its pungency within itself. Therefore the triple world is not a distinct thing from Brahma, and its existence and inexistence (_i.e._, its creation and dissolution), are mere fictions of human mind. (It is ever existent in the eternal mind). 53. It is the use of popular language, to speak of existence and non-existence as different things; but they are never so in reality to the right understanding. Since whatever is or is not in being, is ever present in the Divine Mind. 53a. This being a vacuity, contains all things in their vacuous state (which is neither the state of sensible existence, nor that of intellectual inexistence either). God as the Absolute, Eternal, and Spiritual substance, is as void as Thought. (The universe is a thought in the mind of God, and existence is thought and activity in the Divine Mind. Aristotle). 54. If you disbelieve in the intellectual, you can have no belief in your spirituality also; then why fear to die for fear of future retribution, when you leave your body behind to turn to dust. Tell me Ráma! how can you imagine the existence of the world in absence of the intellectual principle. (There can be no material world, without the immaterial mind; nor can you think of it, if you have no mind in you). 55. But if you find by the reasoning of your mind, all things to be mere intellections of the intellect at all times; then say why do you rely on the substantiality of your body. 56. Remember Ráma, your pellucid intellectual and spiritual form, which has no limit nor part of it, but is an unlimited and undivided whole; and mistake not yourself for a limited being by forgetting your true nature. 57. Thinking yourself as such, take all the discreet parts of the universe as forming one concrete whole; and this is the substantial intellect of Brahma. 58. Thou abidest in the womb of thy intellect, and art neither this nor that nor any of the many discrete things interspersed in the universe. Thou art as thou art and last as the _End_ and _Nil_ in thy obvious and yet thy hidden appearances. 59. Thou art contained under no particular category, nor is there any predicable which may be predicated of thee. Yet thou art the substance of every predicament in thy form of the solid, ponderous and calm intellect; and I salute thee in that form of thine. 60. Thou art without beginning and end, and abidest with thy body of solid intellect, amidst the crystal sphere of thy creation, and shining as the pure and transparent sky. Thou art calm and quiet, and yet displayest the wondrous world, as the seed vessel shows the wooden of vegetation. CHAPTER III. ON THE UNITY AND UNIVERSALITY OF BRAHMA. Argument.--Showing the identity of Brahma with the Mind, Living Soul, the body and the world and all things and extirpation of all dualisms, by the establishment of one universality. Vasishtha continued:--As the countless waves, which are continually rising and falling in the Sea, are no other than its water assuming temporary forms to view; so the intellect exhibits the forms of endless worlds heaving in itself; and know, O sinless Ráma! this intellect to be thy very self or soul. (All personal souls are selfsame with the impersonal Self; because it is in the power of both the finite and infinite souls to produce and reduce the appearance of the worlds in them, which proves them beyond any doubt as the Chidátmá or the Intellectual soul). 2. Say thou that hast the intellectual soul, what relation doth thy immaterial soul bear to the material world, and being freed from thy earthly cares, how canst thou entertain any earthly desire or affection in it. (The spiritual soul has no concern with the material world). 3. It is the Intellect which manifests itself in the forms of living soul or jíva, mind and its desires, and the world and all things; say then what else can it be, to which all these properties are to be attributed (if not to the eternal intellect). 4. The intellect of the Supreme Spirit, is as a profound sea with its huge surges; and yet, O Ráma! it is as calm and cool as thy soul, and as bright and clear, as the transparent firmament. 5. As the heat is not separate from fire, and the fragrance not apart from the flower; and as blackness is inseparable from collyrium, and whiteness from the ice; and as sweet is inborn in the sugarcane, so is intellection inherent in, and unseparated from the intellect. 6. As the light is nothing distinct from the sun-beams, so is intellection no other than the intellect itself; and as the waves are no way distinct from the water; so the universe is in no ways different or disjoined from the nature of the intellect, which contains the universe. (The noumenon contains the phenomenon, and become manifest as the world). 7. The ideas are not apart from the intellect, nor is the ego distinct from the idea of it; the mind is not different from the ego, nor is the living soul any other than the mind. 8. The senses are not separate from the mind, and the body is not unconnected with the senses; the world is the same as the body, and there is nothing apart from the world. (The body is the microcosm of the cosmos [Sanskrit: shuddhabrahmánanda]). 9. Thus the great sphere of universe, is no other than the unbounded sphere of intellect; and they are nothing now done or made, or ever created before (for whatever there is or comes to pass, continues forever in the presence of the intellect). 10. Our knowledge of every thing, is but our reminiscence of the same; and this is to continue for evermore, in the manner of all partial spaces, being contained in infinity, without distinction of their particular localities. (All spaces of place occupied by bodies, are contained in the infinite and unoccupied vacuity of Mind). 11. As all spaces are contained in the endless vacuity, so the vastness of Brahma is contained in the immensity of Brahma; and as truth resides in verity, so in this plenum contained, is the plenitude of Divine mind. (Here Brahma the great means by figure of metonymy, the Brahmánda or vastness of his creation). 12. Seeing the forms of outward things, the intelligent man never takes them to his mind; it is the ignorant only, that set their minds to the worthless things of this world. 13. They are glad to long after what they approve of, for their trouble only in this world; but he who takes these things as nothing, remains free from the pleasure and pain of having or not having them. (So said the wise Socrates:--How many things are here, which I do not want). 14. The apparent difference of the world and the soul of the world, is as false in reality, as the meaning of the words sky and skies, which though taken in their singular and plural senses, still denote the same uniform vacuity. (So the one soul is viewed as many in appearance only). 15. He who remains with the internal purity of his vacant mind, although he observes the customary differences of external things, remains yet as unaffected by the feelings of pain and pleasure, as the insensible block of wood and stone (with his stoical indifference in joy and grief). 16. He who sees his blood-thirsty enemy in the light of a true friend, is the person that sees rightly into the nature of things. (Because the killers of our lives, are the givers of our immortality). 17. As the river uproots the big trees on both its sides, by its rapid currents and deluge; so doth the dispassionate man destroys the feelings of his joy and grief to their very roots. 18. The sage that knows not the nature of the passions and affections, and does not guard himself from their impulse and emotions, is unworthy of the veneration, which awaits upon the character of saints and sages. 19. He who has not the sense of his egoism, and whose mind is not attached to this world; saves his soul from death and confinement, after his departure from this world. (There is a similar text in the Bhagavadgítá, and it is hard to say which is the original one and which is the copy). 20. The belief in one's personality, is as false as one's faith in an unreality, which does not exist; and this wrong notion of its existence, is removed only by one's knowledge of the error, and his riddance from it. 21. He who has extinguished the ardent desire of his mind, like the flame of an oilless lamp; and who remains unshaken under all circumstances, stands as the image of a mighty conqueror of his enemies in painting or statue. 22. O Ráma! that man is said to be truly liberated, who is unmoved under all circumstances, and has nothing to gain or lose in his prosperity or adversity, nor any thing to elate or depress him in either state. CHAPTER IV. Argument.--Vasishtha exposes the evils of selfish views _parág-drishti_, and exalts the merit of elevated views _pratyag-drishti_. Vasishtha continued:--Ráma! knowing your mind, understanding, egoism and all your senses, to be insensible of themselves, and deriving their sensibility from the intellect; say how can your living soul and the vital breaths, have any sensation of their own. 2. It is the one great soul, that infuses its power to those different organs; as the one bright sun dispenses his light, to all the various objects in their diverse colours. 3. As the pangs of the poisonous thirst after worldly enjoyments, come to an end; so the insensibility of ignorance, flies away like darkness at the end of the night. 4. It is the incantation of spiritual knowledge only, that is able to heal the pain of baneful avarice; as it is in the power of autumn only, to dispel the clouds of the rainy-season. 5. It is the dissipation of ignorance, which washes the mind of its attendant desires; as it is the disappearance of the rainy weather, which scatters the clouds in the sky. 6. The mind being weakened to unmindfulness, loses the chain of its desires from it; as a necklace of pearls being loosened from its broken string, tosses the precious gems all about the ground. 7. Ráma! they that are unmindful of the sástras, and mind to undermine them; resemble the worms and insects, that mine the ground wherein they remain. 8. The fickle eye-sight of the idle and curious gazer on all things, becomes motionless after their ignorant curiosity is over and has ceased to stir; as the shaking lotus of the lake becomes steady, after the gusts of wind have passed away and stopped. 9. You have got rid, O Ráma! of your thought of all entities and non-entities, and found your steadiness in the ever-steady unity of God; as the restless winds mix at last with the calm vacuum (after their blowing and breathing over the solid earth, and in the hollow sky). 10. I ween you have been awakened to sense, by these series of my sermons to you; as kings are awakened from their nightly sleep, by the sound of their eulogists and the music of timbrels. 11. Seeing that common people of low understandings, are impressed by the preachings of their parish parsons; I have every reason to believe that my sermons must make their impression, upon the good understanding of Ráma. 12. As you are in the habit of considering well, the good counsel of others in your mind; so I doubt not, that my counsel will penetrate your mind, as the cool rain-water enters into the parched ground of the earth. 13. Knowing me as your family priest, and my family as the spiritual guides of Raghus race for ever; you must receive with regard my good advices to you, and set my words as a neck-chain to your heart. CHAPTER V. Argument.--Ráma's relation to Vasishtha, of his perfect rest in godliness. Ráma said:--O my venerable guide! My retrospection of your sermons, has set my mind to perfect rest, and I see the traps and turmoils of this world before me, with a quite indifferent and phlegmatic mind. 2. My soul has found its perfect tranquillity in the Supreme Spirit, is as the parched ground is cooled by a snow or of rainfall after a long and painful drought. 3. I am as cool as coldness itself, and feel the felicity of an entire unity in myself; and my mind has become as tranquil and transparent, as the limpid lake that is undisturbed by elephants. 4. I see the whole plenum of the universe, O sage! in its pristine pure light; and as clear as the face of the wide extended firmament, without the dimness of frost or mist. 5. I am now freed from my doubts, and exempted from the mirage of the world; I am equally aloof from affections, and have become as pure and serene, as the lake and sky in autumn. 6. I have found that transport in my inmost soul, which knows no bound nor decay; and have the enjoyment of that _gusto_, which defies the taste of the ambrosial draught of gods. 7. I am now set in the truth of actual existence, and my repose in the joyous rest of my soul. I have become the delight of mankind and my own joy in myself, which makes me thank my felicitous self, and you also for giving me this blessing. (The Sruti says, Heavenly bliss is the delight of men, and the heartfelt joy of every body). 8. My heart has become as expanded and pure, as the expanse of limpid lakes in autumn; and my mind hath become as cold and serene, as the clear and humid sky in the season of autumn. 9. Those doubts and coinings of imagination, which mislead the blind, have now fled afar from me; as the fear of ghosts appearing in the dark, disappear at the light of day-break. 10. How can there be the speck or spot of impurity, in the pure and enlightened soul; and how can the doubts of the objective nature, arise in the subjective mind? All these errors vanish to naught, like darkness before moon light. 11. All these appearances appearing in various forms, are but the diverse manifestations of the self-same soul; it is therefore a fallacy to suppose, this is one thing and that another, by our misjudgment of them. 12. I smile to think in myself, the miserable slave of my desires that I had been before; that am now so well satisfied without them. (The privation of desire gives greater satisfaction than its fulfilment). 13. I remember now how my single and solitary self, is one and all with the universal soul of the world; since I received my baptism with the ambrosial fluid of thy words. 14. O the highest and holiest station, which I have now attained to; and from where I behold the sphere of the sun, to be situated as low as the infernal region. 15. I have arrived at the world of sober reality and existence, from that of unreality and seeming existence. I therefore thank my soul, that has became so elevated and adorable with its fulness of the Deity. 16. O venerable Sage:--I am now situated in everlasting joy, and far removed from the region of sorrow; by the sweet sound of the honeyed words, which have crept like humming bees, into the pericarp of my lotus-like heart. CHAPTER VI. Argument:--Prevalence and influence of delirium (moha). Vasishtha Continued--Hear me moreover to tell you, my dear Ráma, some excellent sayings for your good, and also for the benefit of every one of my audience here. 2. Though you are unlike others, in the greater enlightenment of your understanding; yet my lecture will equally edify your knowledge, as that of the less enlightened men than yourself. 3. He who is so senseless as to take his body for the soul, is soon found to be upset by his unruly senses; as a charioteer is thrown down by his head-strong and restive horses. (So says the Sruti also. "The soul is the charioteer of the vehicle of the body, and the senses are as its horses"). 4. But the Sapient man who knows the bodiless soul and relies therein, has all his senses under the subjection of his soul; and they do not overthrow him, as obstinate horses do their riders. 5. He who praises no object of enjoyment, but rather finds fault with all of them, and discerns well their evils; enjoys the health of his body without any complaint. (The voluptuary is subject to diseases, but the abstinent is free from them; for in the midst of pleasure there is pain). 6. The soul has no relation with the body, nor is the body related with the soul; they are as unrelated to each other as the light and shade. (And are opposed to one another as sun-light and darkness). 7. The discrete soul is distinct from concrete matter, and free from material properties and accidents; the soul is ever shining and does not rise or set as the material sun and moon (and it never changes as the everchanging objects of changeful nature and mind). 8. The body is a dull mass of vile matter, it is ignorant of itself and its own welfare; it is quite ungrateful to the soul, that makes it sensible; therefore it well deserves its fate of diseases and final dissolution. (The body is frail, and is at best but a fading flower). 9. How can the body be deemed an intelligent thing, when the knowledge of the one (_i.e._, the soul) as intelligence, proves the other (_i.e._, the body) to be but a dull mass. They cannot both be intelligent, when the nature of the one is opposite to that of the other; and if there is no difference between them, they would become one and the same thing (_i.e._ the soul equal with the body, which is impossible). 10. But how is it then, that they mutually reciprocate their feelings of pain and pleasure to one another, unless they are the one and the same thing, and participating of the same properties? (This is a presumptive objection of the antagonistic doctrine, touching the co-relation of the mind and body). 11. It is impossible, Ráma, for the reciprocation of their feelings, that never agree in their natures; the gross body has no connection with the subtile soul, nor has the rarefied soul any relation with the solid body. (It is the gross mind that sympathises with the body, and not the unconnected spirit or soul). 12. The presence of the one, nullifies the existence of the opposite other; as in the cases of day and night, of darkness and light, and of knowledge and ignorance (which are destructive of their opposites). 13. The unbodied soul presides over all bodies, without its adherence to any; as the omnipresent spirit of Brahma, pervades throughout all nature, without coalescing with any visible object. (The spirit of God resides in all, and is yet quite detached from everything). 14. The embodied soul is as unattached to the body, as the dew drop on the lotus leaf is disjoined with the leaf; and as the divine spirit is quite unconnected with everything, which it fills and supports. 15. The Soul residing in the body, is as unaffected by its affections, as the sky remains unmoved, by the motion of the winds raging in its bosom. It is figuratively said, that tempests rend the skies, and the passions rend their recipient bosom; but nothing can disturb the empty vacuity of the sky or soul. 16. Knowing your soul to be no part of your body, rest quietly in it to eternity; but believing yourself as the body, be subject to repeated transmigrations of it in endless forms. 17. The visibles are viewed as the rising and falling waves, in the boundless ocean of the Divine soul; but reliance in the supreme soul, will show the light of the soul only. 18. This bodily frame is the product of the Divine soul, as the wave is produced of the water of the sea; and though the bodies are seen to move about as waves, yet their receptacle the soul is ever as steady as the sea;--the reservoir of the moving waves. 19. The body is the image of the soul, as the sun seen in the waves is the reflection of that luminary; and though the body like the reflected sun, is seen to be moving and waving, yet its archetype--the soul, is ever as steady as the fixed and unfluctuating sun in the sky. 20. The error of the substantiality and stability of the body is put to flight, no sooner the light of the permanent and spiritual Substratum of the soul, comes to shine over our inward sight. (Knowledge of the immaterial and immortal soul, removes the blunder of the material and mortal body). 21. The body appears to be in the act of constant motion and rotation like a wheel, to the partial and unspiritual observers of materialism; and it is believed by them to be perpetually subject to birth and death, like the succession of light and darkness. (Lit.:--As candle light and darkness follow each other, so is the body produced and dissolved by turns). 22. These unspiritual men, that are unconscious of their souls; are as shallow and empty minded, as _arjuna_ trees; which grow without any pith and marrow within them. 23. Dull headed men that are devoid of intelligence, are as contemptible as the grass on the ground; and they move their limbs like the blades of grass, which are moved by force of the passing wind (and by direction of the Judging mind). Those that are unacquainted with the intelligent soul, resemble the senseless and hollow bamboos, which shake and whistle by breath of the winds alone. (The internal air moves the body and the limbs, as the external breeze shakes the trees). 24. The unintelligent body and limbs, are actuated to perform and display their several acts, by action of the vital breath; as the vacillation of the insensible trees and leaves, is caused by the motion of the breeze; and both of them cease to move, no sooner the current airs cease to agitate them. 25. These dull bodies are as the boisterous waves of the sea, heaving with huge shapes with tremendous noise; and appearing to sight as the figures of drunken men, staggering with draughts of the luscious juice of Vine. 26. These witless men resemble the rapid currents of rivers, which without a jot of sense in them, keep up on their continual motion, to no good to themselves or others. 27. It is from their want of wit, that they are reduced to utmost meanness and misery; which make them groan and sigh like the blowing bellows of the blacksmith. 28. Their continued motion is of no real good to themselves, but brings on their quietus like the calm after the storm; they clash and clang like the twang of the bowstring, without the dart to hit at the mark. 29. The life of the unintelligent man, is only for its extinction or death; and its desire of fruition is as false, as the fruit of an unfruitful tree in the woody forest. 30. Seeking friendliness in unintelligent men, is as wishing to rest or sleep on a burning mountain; and the society of the unintellectual, is as associating with the headless trunks of trees in a forest (The weak headed man like the headless tree, can neither afford any sheltering shade, nor nourishing fruit to the passenger. So the verse: It is vain to expect any good or gain, from men of witless and shallow brain). 31. Doing any service to the ignorant and lack witted men goes for nothing; and is as vain as beating the bush or empty air with a stick: and any thing given to the senseless, is as something thrown into the mud. (Or as casting pearls before the swine, or scattering grains in the bushes). 32. Talking with the ignorant, is as calling the dogs from a distance (which is neither heard nor heeded by them). Ignorance is the seat of evils, which never betide the sensible and the wise. (So the Hitopadesa--A hundred evils and thousand fears, daily befall to the fool, and not to the heedful wise). 33. The wise pass over all errors in their course amidst the world; but the ignorant are exposed to incessant troubles, in their ceaseless ardour to thrive in the pleasures of life. 34. As the carriage wheel revolves incessantly, about the axle to which it is fixed; so the body of man turns continually about the wealthy family, to which the foolish mind is fixed for gain. 35. The ignorant fool can never get rid of his misery, so long as he is fast bound to the belief of taking his body as his soul, and knowing no spiritual soul besides. 36. How is it possible for the infatuated, to be freed from their delusion; when their minds are darkened by illusion, and their eyes are blind-folded, by the hood-wink of unreal appearance. 37. The seeing man or looker on sights, that regales his eyes with the sight of unrealities; is at last deluded by them, as a man is moonstruck by fixing his eyes on the moon, and becomes giddy with the profuse fragrance of flowers. 38. As the watering of the ground, tends to the growth of grass and thorns and thistles; so the fostering of the body, breeds the desires in the heart, as thick as reptiles grow in the hollow of trees; and they invigorate the mind in the form of a rampant lion or elephant. 39. The ignorant foster their hopes of heaven on the death of their bodies; as the farmer expects a plenteous harvest, from his well cultivated fields (_i.e._ expectation of future heaven is vain, by means of ceremonial acts in life). 40. The greedy hell-hounds are glad to look upon the ignorant, that are fast-bound in the coils of their serpentine desires; as the thirsty peacocks are pleased to gaze on the black clouds, that rise before their eyes in the rainy season. 41. These beauties with their glancing eyes, resembling the fluttering bees of summer, and with lips blooming as the new blown leaves of flowers; are flaunting to catch hold of ignorant men; as poisonous plants are displayed, to lay hold on ignorant flies. 42. The plant of desire, which shoots out of the goodly soil of ignorant minds, shelters the flying passions under its shady foliage; as the coral plants foster the coral insects in them. (The corallines are known to be the formation of coral insects). 43. Enmity is like a wild fire, it consumes the arbour of the body, and lets out the smoke through the orifice of the mouth in the desert land of the heart, and exhibits the rose of the heath as the burning cinders. 44. The mind of the ignorant is as a lake of envy, covered with the leaves of spite and calumny: jealousy is its lotus-bed, and the anxious thoughts are as the bees continually fluttering thereupon. 45. The ignorant man that is subjected to repeated births, and is rising and falling as waves in the tumultuous ocean of this world, is exposed also to repeated deaths: and the burning fire which engulphs his dead body, is as in the submarine fire of this sea. 46. The ignorant are exposed to repeated births, attended by the vicissitudes of childhood, youth, manhood and old age, and followed at last by a painful death and cremation of the beloved body on the funeral pile. 47. The ignorant body is like a diving bucket, tied by the rope of transmigration to the Hydraulic machine of acts; to be plunged and lifted over again, in and over the dirty pool of this world. 48. This world which is a plane pavement and but narrow hole (lit., a cow foot-cave) to the wise, by their unconsciousness of it; appears as a boundless and unfathomable sea to the ignorant, owing to their great concern about it. (The wise think lightly of the world; but the worldly take it heavily upon themselves). 49. The ignorant are devoid of their eye-sight, to look out beyond their limited circle; as the birds long confined in their cages, have no mind to fly out of them. 50. The revolution of repeated births, is like the constant rotation of the wheel of a chariot; and there is no body that is able to stop their motion, by restraining his earthly desires; which are ever turning as the spokes affixed to nave of the heart. 51. The ignorant wander at large, about the wide extended earth; as huntsmen rove amidst the forest, in search of their prey; until they become a prey at the hand of death, and make the members of their bodies as morsels, to the vultures of their sensual appetites. 52. The sights of these mountainous bodies, and of these material forms made of earthly flesh, are mistaken by the ignorant for realities; as they mistake the figures in painting for real persons. 53. How flourishing is the arbour of this delusion, which is fraught with the endless objects of our erroneous imagination; and hath stretched out these innumerable worlds from our ignorance of them. 54. How flourishing is the _kalpa_ tree or all fruitful arbour of delusion; which is ever fraught with endless objects of our imaginary desire, and stretches out the infinite worlds to our erroneous conception as its leaves. 55. Here our prurient minds like birds of variegated colours, rest and remain and sit and sport, in and all about this arbour. 56. Our acts are the roots of our repeated births as the stem of the tree is of its shoots; our prosperity and properties are the flowers of this arbor, and our virtues and vices are as its fruits of good and evil. 57. Our wives are as the tender plants, that thrive best under the moon-light of delusion; and are the most beautiful things to behold in this desert land of the earth. 58. As the darkness of ignorance prevails over the mind, soon after the setting of the sun light of reason; there rises the full moon of errors in the empty mind, with all her changing phases of repeated births. (This refers to the dark ages of Puránic or mythological fictions, and also to the Dárshanic or philosophical systems which succeeded the age of Vedántic light, and were full of changeable doctrines, like the phases of the moon; whence she is styled _dwija_ or _mistress_ of digits. There is another figure of equivocation in the word _doshah_, meaning the night as well as the defect of ignorance). 59. It is under the influence of the cooling moon-light of ignorance; that our minds foster the fond desire of worldly enjoyments; and like the _chakora_ birds of night, drink their fill of delight as ambrosial moon-beams. (The ignorant are fond of pleasures, and where ignorance is bliss, it is foolish to be wise). 60. It is under this delusion, that men view their beloved ones as buds of roses and lotuses, and their loose glancing eyes, as the black bees fluttering at random; they see the sable clouds in the braids and locks of their hair, and a glistening fire in their glowing bosoms and breasts. 61. It is delusion, O Ráma! that depicts the fairies with the beams of fair moon-light nights; though they are viewed by the wise, in their true light of being as foul as the darkest midnight. 62. Know Ráma, the pleasures of the world, to be as the pernicious fruits of ignorance; which are pleasant to taste at first, but prove to be full of bitter gall at last. It is therefore better to destroy this baneful arbour, than to lose the life and soul by the mortal taste of its fruits. (It is the fruit of the tree of ignorance rather than that of knowledge, which brought death into the world and all our woe. Milton). CHAPTER VII. Argument:--The effects of ignorance, shown in the evils brought on by our vain desires and fallacies or erroneous judgments. Vasishtha continued. These beauties that are so decorated with precious gems and jewels, and embellished with the strings of brilliant pearls, are as the playful billows in the milky ocean of the moon-beams of our fond desires. 2. The sidelong looks of the beautiful eyes in their faces, look like a cluster of black bees, sitting on the pericarp of a full blown lotus. 3. These beauties appear as charming, to the enslaved minds of deluded men; and as the vernal flowers which are strewn upon the ground in forest lands. 4. Their comely persons which are compared with the moon, the lotus flower, and sandal paste for their coolness by fascinated minds; are viewed as indifferently by the wise, as by the insensible beasts which make a prey of them. (Lit. by the rapacious wolves and dogs and vultures which devour them). 5. Their swollen breasts which are compared with lotus-buds, ripe pomegranates and cups of gold, are viewed by the wise as a lump of flesh and blood and nauseous liquor. 6. Their fleshy lips, distilling the impure saliva and spittle, are said to exude with ambrosial honey, and to bear resemblance with the ruby and coral and vimba fruits. 7. Their arms with the crooked joints of the wrists and loins, and composed of hard bones in the inside, are compared with creeping plants, by their infatuated admirers and erotic poets. 8. Their thick thighs are likened to the stems of lumpish plantain trees, and the decorations of their protuberant breasts, are resembled to the strings of flowers, hung upon the turrets of temples. 9. Women are pleasant at first, but become quarrelsome afterwards; and then fly away in haste, like the goddess of fortune; and yet they are desired by the ignorant. (But when the old woman frets, let her go alone). 10. The minds of the ignorant, are subject to many pains and pleasures in this life; and the forest of their misdeeds, shoots forth in a thousand branches, bearing the woeful fruits of misery only. (The tree of sin brought death into the world and all our woe. Milton). 11. The ignorant are fast bound in the net of their folly, and their ritual functions are the ropes, that lead them to the prison-house of the world. The words of their lips, like the _mantras_ and musical words of their mouths, are the more for their bewilderment. (The ignorant are enslaved by their ritualistic rites; but the Sages are enfranchised by their spiritual knowledge). 12. The overspreading mist of ignorance, stretches out a maze of ceremonial rites, and envelopes the minds of common people in utter darkness; as the river Yamuná overflows its banks with its dark waters. 13. The lives of the ignorant, which are so pleasant with their tender affections, turn out as bitter as the juice of hemlock, when the affections are cut off by the strong hand of death (_i.e._, the pleasures of life are embittered by the loss of relatives). 14. The senseless rabble are driven and carried away, like the withered and shattered leaves of trees, by the ever blowing winds of their pursuits; which scatter them all about as the dregs of earth, and bespatter them with the dirt and dust of their sins. 15. All the world is as a ripe fruit in the mouth of death, whose voracious belly is never filled with all its ravages, for millions and millions of kalpa ages. (The womb of death is never full). 16. Men are as the cold bodies and creeping reptiles of the earth, and they crawl and creep continually in their crooked course, by breathing the vital air, as the snakes live upon the current air. (Serpents are said to live a long time without food, simply by inhaling the open air). 17. The time of youth passes as a dark night, without the moon-light of reason; and is infested by the ghosts of wicked thoughts and evil desires. 18. The flippant tongue within the mouth, becomes faint with cringing flattery; as the pistil rising from the seed vessel, becomes languid under the freezing frost. 19. Poverty branches out like the thorny Sálmali tree, in a thousand branches of misery, distress, sorrow, sickness, and all kinds of woe to human beings. (Poverty is the root of all evils in life). 20. Concealed covetousness like the unseen bird of night, is hidden within the hollow cavity of the human heart, resembling the stunted _chaitya_ trees of mendicants; and then it shrieks and hoots out from there, during the dark night of delusion which has overspread the sphere of the mind. 21. Old age lays hold on youth by the ears, as the old cat seizes on the mouse, and devours its prey after sporting with it for a long while. 22. The accumulation of unsubstantial materials, which causes the formation of the stupendous world, is taken for real substantiality by the unwise; as the foaming froths and ice-bergs in the sea, are thought to be solid rocks by the ignorant sailor. (So all potential existences of the Vedantist, are sober realities of the positive philosophy). 23. The world appears as a beautiful arbour, glowing with the blooming blossoms of Divine light; which is displayed over it; and the belief of its reality, is the plant which is fraught with the fruitage of all our actions and duties. (The world is believed as the garden of the actions of worldly men, but the wise are averse to actions and their results). 24. The great edifice of the world, is supported by the pillars of its mountains, under its root of the great vault of heaven; and the sun and moon are the great gateways to this pavilion. (The sun and moon are believed by some as the doors leading the pious souls to heaven). 25. The world resembles a large lake, over which the vital breaths are flying as swarms of bees on the lotus-beds of the living body; and exhaling the sweets which are stored in the cell of the heart (_i.e._, the breath of life wafts away the sweets of the immortal soul). 26. The blue vault of heaven appears as a spacious and elevated dome to the ignorant who think it to contain all the worlds, which are enlightened by the light of the sun situated in the midst. But it is an empty sphere, and so the other worlds beyond the solar system, to which the solar light doth never reach. 27. All worldly minded men, are as old birds tied down on earth by the strong strings of their desires; and their heart moves about the confines of their bodies, and their heart strings throb with hopes in the confines of their bodies, as birds in cages in the hope of getting their release. 28. The lives of living beings are continually dropping down, like the withered leaves of trees, from the fading arbours of their decayed bodies, by the incessant breathing of their breath of life. (The respiration of breath called _ajapá_, is said to be the measure of life). 29. The respectable men, that are joyous of their worldly grandeur for a short time, are entirely forgetful of the severe torments of hell, awaiting on them afterwards. 30. But the godly people enjoy their heavenly delights as gods, in the cooling orb of the moon; or range freely under the azure sky, like heavenly cranes about the limpid lakes. 31. There they taste the sweet fruits of their virtuous deeds on earth; and inhale the fragrance of their various desires, as the bees sip the sweetness of the opening lotus. 32. All worldly men are as little fishes (shrimps), swimming on the surface of this pool of the earth; while the sly and senile death pounces upon them as a kite, and bears them away as his prey without any respite or remorse. 33. The changeful events of the world, are passing on every day, like the gliding waves and the foaming froths of the sea, and the ever changing digits of the moon. 34. Time like a potter, continually turns his wheel, and makes an immense number of living beings as his pots; and breaks them every moment, as the fragile play-things of his own whim. 35. Innumerable _kalpa_ ages have been incessantly rolling on, over the shady quiescence of eternity; and multitudes of created worlds have been burnt down, like thick woods and forests, by the all desolating conflagrations of desolation. (According to the Hindus the universal destruction, takes place by the Violent concussion of all the elements, and by the diluvian floods also). 36. All worldly things are undergoing incessant changes, by their appearance and disappearance by turns; and the vicissitudes of our states and circumstances, from these of pleasure and prosperity to the state of pain and misery and _vice versa_, in endless succession. (Pain and pleasure succeed one another). 37. Notwithstanding the instability of nature, the ignorant are fast bound by the chain of their desire, which is not to be broken even by the thunder bolt of heaven. (Man dies, but his desires never die, they keep their company wherever he may fly). 38. Human desire bears the invulnerable body of the Jove and Indra, which being wounded on all sides by the Titans of disappointment, resumed fresh vigour at every stroke. (So our desires grow stronger by their failure, than when they are allayed by their satisfaction). 39. All created beings are as particles of dust in the air, and are flying with the currents of wind into the mouth of the dragon-like death, who draws all things to his bowels by the breath of his mouth. (Huge snakes are said to live upon air, and whatever is borne with it into his belly). 40. As all the crudities of the earth, and its raw fruits and vegetables, together with the froth of the sea and other marine productions, are carried by the currents to be consumed by the submarine heat, so all existence is borne to the intestinal fire of death to be dissolved into nothing. 41. It is by a fortuitous combination of qualities, that all things present themselves unto us with their various properties; and it is the nature of these which exhibits them with those forms as they present to us; as she gives the property of vibration to the elementary bodies, which show themselves in the forms of water and air unto us. 42. Death like a ferocious lion, devours the mighty and opulent men; as the lion kills the big elephant with his frontal pearls. 43. Ambitious men are as greedy birds of air upon earth, who like the voracious vultures on the tops of high hills, are born to live and die in their aerial exploits, as on the wings of clouds in search of their prey. 44. Their minds liken painter's paintings on the canvas of their intellects, showing all the variegated scenes of the world, with the various pictures of things perceptible by the five senses (_i.e._, the images of all sensible objects are portrayed in the intellect). 45. But all these moving and changeful scenes, are breaking up and falling to pieces at every moment; and producing our vain sorrow and griefs upon their loss, in this passing and aerial city of the world. 46. The animal creations and the vegetable world, are standing as passive spectators, to witness and meditate in themselves the marvelous acts of time, in sparing them from among his destruction of others. 47. How these moving creatures are subject every moment, to the recurrent emotions of passions and affections, and to the alterations of affluence and want; and how they are incessantly decaying under age and infirmity, disease and death from which their souls are entirely free. (Hence the state of torpid immobility is reckoned as a state of bliss, by the Hindu and Buddhistic Yogis and ascetics). 48. So the reptiles and insects on the surface of the earth, are continually subjected to their tortuous motions by their fate, owing to their want of quiet inaction, of which they are capable in their subterranean cells. (The Yogis are wont to confine themselves in their under-ground retreats, in order to conduct their abstract meditations without disturbance. So Demosthenes perfected himself in his art of eloquence in his subterrene cave). 49. But all these living bodies are devoured every moment, by the all destructive time in the form of death; which like the deadly and voracious dragon lies hidden in his dark-some den (Here the word _kála_ is used in its triple sense of time, death, and snake all which being equally destructive and hidden in darkness, it is difficult to distinguish the subject from its comparison. Hence we may say, time like death and snake or death like time and snake or the snake like time and death, devours all living creatures, insects and other reptiles also). 50. The trees however are not affected by any of these accidents, because they stand firm on their roots, and though suffering under heat and cold and the blasts of heaven, yet they yield their sweet fruits and flowers for the supportance and delight of all living creatures. (So the Yogis stand firm on their legs, and while they suffer the food and rest privations of life and the inclemencies of weather, they impart the fruits of divine knowledge to the rest of mankind, who would otherwise perish like the insects of the earth, without their knowledge of truth and hope of future bliss). 51. The meek Yogis that dwell in their secluded and humble cells, are seen also to move about the earth, and imparting the fruits of their knowledge to others; as the bees residing in the cells of lotuses, distribute their stores of honey after the rains are over. (The Yogis and the bees remain in their cells during the four months of the rainy season (varshá-chátur másya), after which they be-take to their peregrinations abroad). 52. They preach about the lectures as the bees chaunt their rhyme all about, saying; that the earth which is as a big port; it supplies the wants of the needy, for making them a morsel in the mouth of the goddess of death (_i.e._, the earth supports all beings for their falling into the bowels of death). 53. The dreaded goddess Káli wearing the veil of darkness over her face, and eying all with her eyeballs, as bright as the orbs of the sun and moon, gives to all beings all their wants, in order to grasp and gorge them in herself. (The black goddess Káli or Hecate, nourishes all as _mátriká_ or _matres_, and then devours them as death, like the carnivorous glutton, that fattens the cattle to feed and feast upon them). 54. Her protuberant and exuberant breasts are as bountiful as the bounty of God, to suckle the gods and men and all beings on earth and hills and in the waters below. (But how can death be the sustainer of all). 55. It is the energy of the Divine intellect, which is the _mátriká-mater_ or mother (mater or materia of all, and assumes the forms of density and tenuity and also of motion and mobility; the clusters of stars are the rows of her teeth, and the morning and evening twilights, are the redness of her two lips). (She is called Ushá and sandhyá or the dawning and evening lights, because of her existence in the form of the twilights, before the birth of the solar and lunar lights. The Vedas abound with hymns to _ushá_ and _sandhyá_ and these form the daily ritual of the Brahmans to this day under the title of their _Tri-sandyá_--the triple litany at sun-rise, sun-set and vertical sun). 56. Her palms are as red as the petals of lotuses, and her countenance is as bright as the paradise of Indra; she is decorated with the pearls of all the seas, and clad with an azure mantle all over her body (Hence the goddess Kálí is represented as all black from her blue vest). 57. The Jambudwípa or Asia forms her naval or midmost spot, and the woods and forests form the hairs of her body. She appears in many shapes and again disappears from view, and plays her part as the most veteran sorceress in all the three worlds. (The text calls her an old hag, that often changes her paints and garments to entice and delude all men to her). 58. She dies repeatedly and is reborn again, and then passes into endless transformations, she is now immerged in the great ocean or bosom of Kála or Death her consort, and rises up to assume other shapes and forms again. (Hence the mother-goddess is said to be the producer and destroyer of all by their repeated births and deaths in their everchanging shapes and forms). 59. The great Kalpa ages are as transitory moments in the infinite duration of Eternity, and the mundane eggs (or planetary bodies in the universe); are as passing bubbles upon the unfathomable ocean of infinity; they rise and last and are lost by turns. 60. It is at the will of God, that the creative powers rise and fly about as birds in the air; and it is by his will also, that the uprisen creation becomes extinct like the burning flash of the lightning. (The flaming worlds shoot forth, and are blown out as sparks of fire). 61. It is in the sunshine of the divine Intellect, and under the canopy of everlasting time, that the creations are continually rising and falling like the fowls of forestlands, flying up and down under the mist of an all encompassing cloud of ignorance. 62. As the tall palm tree lets to fall its ripened fruits incessantly upon the ground; so the over topping arbor of time, drops down the created worlds and the lords of Gods perpetually into the abyss of perdition. (There is an alliteration and homonym of the words, tála and páttála meaning both tall and the tála or palm tree). 63. The gods also are dying away like the twinklings of their eyes, and old time is wearing away with all its ages, by its perpetual tickings. (The ever wakeful eyes of gods are said to have no twinkling; but time is said to be continually twinkling in its ticking moments). 64. There are many Rudras existing in the essence of Brahma, and they depend on the twinkling of that Deity for their existence. (The immortal gods are mortal, before the Eternal God). 65. Such is Brahmá the lord of gods, under whom these endless acts of evolutions and involutions are for ever taking place, in the infinite space of his eternal Intellect and omnipotent will. 66. What wonderous powers are there that cannot possibly reside in the Supreme spirit, whose undecaying will gives rise to all positive and possible existences. It is ignorance therefore to imagine the world as a reality of itself. 67. All these therefore is the display of the deep darkness of ignorance, that appears to you as the vicissitudes of prosperity and adversity, and as the changes of childhood, youth, old-age and death; as also the occurrences of pain and pleasure and of sorrow and grief. (All of which are unrealities in their nature). CHAPTER VIII. ALLEGORY OF THE SPREADING ARBOUR OF IGNORANCE. Argument:--Description of ignorance as a wide spreading tree. Vasishtha continued. Hear me now relate to you Ráma, how this poisonous tree of ignorance has come to grow in this forest of the world, and to be situated by the side of the intellect, and how and when it came to blossom and bloom. (The Divine intellect is the stupendous rock, and the creation is the forest about it, in which there grew the plant of error also). 2. This plant encompasses all the three worlds, and has the whole creation for its rind, and the mountains for its joints (Here is a play of the word _parva_ and _parvata_ which are paronymous terms, signifying a joint and mountain; Hence every mountain is reckoned as the joint or land-mark of a country dividing it from another tract of land). 3. It is fraught with its leaves and roots, and its flowers and fruits, by the continuous births and lives and pleasures and pains and the knowledge and error of mankind. (All these are the productions of human ignorance). 4. Prosperity gives rise to our ignorance of desiring to be more prosperous in this or in our next lives (by means of our performance of ceremonial rites), which are productive of future welfare also. So doth adversity lead us to greater error of practising many malpractices to get rid of it; but which on the contrary expose us to greater misfortunes. (Hence it is folly to make choice of either, which is equally pernicious). 5. One birth gives rise to another and that leads to others without end; hence it is foolishness in us to wish to be reborn again. (All births are subject to misery; it is ignorance therefore to desire a higher or lower one, by performance of _páratrika_ acts for future lives). 6. Ignorance produces greater ignorance, and brings on unconsciousness as its effect: so knowledge leads on to higher knowledge, and produces self-consciousness as its result. (Good tends to best, and bad to the worst. Better tends to best, and worse to the worst). 7. The creeping plant of ignorance, has the passion for its leaves, and the desires for its odours; and it is continually shaking and shuffling with the leafy garment on its body. 8. This plant falls sometimes in its course, on the way of the elephant of Reason; it then shakes with fear, and the dust which covers its body, is all blown away by the breath of the elephant's trunk; but yet the creeper continues to creep on by the byways according to its wont. 9. The days are its blossoms, and the nights are the swarms of black bees, that overshadow its flowers; and the continued shaking of its boughs, darts down the dust of living bodies from it, both by day and night. (_i.e._, Men that live upon their desires and hopes, are daily dying away). 10. It is overgrown with its leaves of relatives, and overloaded with the shooting buds of its offspring; it bears the blossoms of all seasons, and yields the fruits of all kinds of flowers. 11. All its joints are full of the reptiles of diseases, and its stem is perforated by the cormorants of destruction; yet it yields the luscious juice of delight to those that are bereft of their reason and good sense. 12. Its flowers are the radiant planets, that shine with the sun and moon every day in the sky; the vacuum is the medium of their light, and the rapid winds are vehicles, that bear their rays as odours unto us. (Vacuity is the receptacle of light, but the vibrations of air transmit it to our sight). 12a. Ignorance blossoms every day in the clusters of the bright planetary bodies, that shine with the sun and moon by day and night; and the winds playing in the air, bear their light like perfumes to us. (_i.e._ It is the spirit that glows in the stars, and breathes in the air, but ignorance attributes these to the planets and breezes, and worships them as the _navagrahas_ and _marut ganas_, both in the vedas and the popular Puranic creeds). 12b. Ignorance blossoms in the clusters of stars and planets, shining about the sun and moon every day; and breathes in the breezes blowing at random amidst the vacuous firmament. (Hence the ignorant alone adore the stars and winds in the vedas, but the sapient know the light of God to glow in the stars, and his spirit to breathe in the air). 13. These innumerable stars that you see scattered in the vault of heaven, O son of Raghu's race, are the blooming blossoms of this arbor of ignorance (_i.e._ ignorance shows them as twinkling stars to us, while they are numberless shining worlds in reality). 14. The beams of the sun and moon, and the flames of fire, which are scattered about us like the crimson dust of flowers; resemble the red paint on the fair body of ignorance, with which this delusive lady attracts our minds to her. 15. The wild elephant of the mind, ranges at large under the arbour of Ignorance; and the birds of our desires, are continually hovering and warbling upon it; while the vipers of sensual appetites, are infesting its stem, and avarice settles as a huge snake at the root. (The text has the words "and greediness decorates its bark" which bear no meaning). 16. It stretches with its head to the blue vault of the sky, forming as a canopy of black arbour of black Tamála trees over it. The earth supports its trunk, and sky overtops its top; and it makes a garden of the universe (with its out stretched arms). 17. It is deeply rooted underneath the ground, and is watered with milk and curds, in the canals of the milky and other oceans, which are dug around its trunk. 18. The rituals of the three vedas, are fluttering like the bees over the tree, blooming with the blossoms of beauteous women, and shaking with the oscillations of the mind; while it is corroded in the inside by the cankering worms of cares and actions. (It means to say, that the vedic rites, the love of women, the thoughts of the mind and the bodily actions, are all attendants of ignorance; and he is wise who refrains from them in toto). 19. The tree of ignorance, blossoming like the flowers of the garden of paradise, exhales the sweet odours of pleasure around; and the serpent of vice twining round it, leads the living souls perpetually to evil deeds, for the supportance of their lives. 20. It blooms with various flowers, to attract the hearts of wise; and it is fraught with various fruits, distilling their sweets all around. (These fruits and flowers are the sensual pleasures, which allure the ignorant to them). 21. With the aqueducts about, it invites the birds of the air to drink of them; and being besmeared with the dust of its flowers, it appears to stand as a rock of red earth or granite to sight. (The water beds below it, are mistaken for the _salsabil_ or streams of Paradise, and its rock-like appearance, shows the grossness of _ignorance crasse_ or _tabula rasa_). 22. It shoots out with buds of mistakes, and is beset by the briars of error; it grows luxuriant in hilly districts, with exuberance of its leafy branches. (Meaning that the hill people are most ignorant). 23. It grows and dies and grows again, and being cut down it springs out anon; so there is no end of it. (It is hard to extirpate ignorance at once). 24. Though past and gone, yet it is present before us, and though it is all hollow within, it appears as thick and sound to sight. It is an ever fading and ever green tree, and the more it is lopped and cropt, the more it grows and expands itself. 25. It is a poisonous tree, whose very touch benumbs the senses in a moment; but being pressed down by reasoning, it dies away in a trice. 26. All distinctions of different objects, are dissolved in the crucible of the reasoning mind; but they remain undissolved in their crude forms in the minds of the ignorant, who are employed in differentiating the various natures of men and brutes, and of terrene and aquatic animals. 27. They distinguish the one as the nether world, and the other as the upper sky; and make distinctions between the solar and lunar planets, and the fixed starry bodies. (But there are no ups and downs, nor any thing as fixed in infinite vacuity). 28. Here there is light, and there is darkness on the other side, and this is empty space and that is the solid ground; these are the sástras and these are the Vedas, are distinctions unknown to the wise. 29. It is the same spirit that flies upward in the bodies of birds, or remains above in the form of gods; the same spirit remains fixed in the forms of fixed rocks or moves in continued motion with the flying winds. 30. Sometimes it resides in the infernal regions, and at others it dwells in the heavens above; sometimes it is exalted to the dignity of gods, and some where it remains in the state of mean insects and worms. 31. In one place it appears as glorious as the god Vishnu, and in another it shows itself in the forms of Brahmá and Siva. Now it shines in the sun, and then it brightens in the moon; here it blows in the blowing winds, and there it sways in the all-subduing _yama_. (Some Europeans have conjectured and not without good reason, the relentless god of death the _yama_ of Hindus, to be same with as the ruthless king _Jamshed_ of prehistoric Persia. So says Hafiz Ayineye, Sekendar Jame jamast bingars). 32. Whatever appears as great and glorious, and all that is seen as mean and ignoble in their form, from the biggest and bright sun down to the most contemptible grass and straw; are all pervaded by the universal spirit: it is ignorance that dwells upon the external forms; but knowledge that looks into the inner soul, obtains its sight up the present state. CHAPTER IX. ASCERTAINMENT OF TRUE KNOWLEDGE. Argument.--Division of the three _gunas_ or qualities. Pure essence of the Gods Hara and others, nature of knowledge and ignorance, and other subjects. Ráma said, You said sir, that all formal bodies are representations of illusion or ignorance (Avidyá); but how do you account for the pure bodies of Hari, Hara and other divinities, and god-heads who are of pure essence in their embodied forms, and which cannot be the creation of our error or delusion. Please, sir, explain these clearly to (spun) me and remove my doubts and difficulties on the subject (The exhibition of gross bodies is the deception of our sense, but the appearance of pure spiritual forms, can not be production of ignorance or sensible deception. We may ignore the forms of material substances, but not those immaterial essences which are given in the sástras. gloss). 2. Vasishtha replied,--The perceptible world represents the manifestation of the one quiescent and all inherent soul, and exhibits the glory (_ábhásha_) of the essential intellect (_sach-chit_), which is beyond conception or thought divine. 3. This gives rise to the shape of a partial hypostasis, or there rises of itself hypostatics ([Sanskrit: kalákalarúpiní]), resembling the rolling fragment of a cloud appearing as a watery substance or filled with water. (This original fiction of the glory of God giving rise to the watery mist like a lighted lamp emitting the inky smoke, is represented in the common belief of dark ignorance ([Sanskrit: avidyá]) proceeding from the bright light of divine knowledge ([Sanskrit: vidyá]), and exhibited by the allegory of the black goddess of ignorance and illusion ([Sanskrit: avidyá] and [Sanskrit: máyá]) gushing out of the white and fair god lying inactive and dormant under her; she is hence designated by the various epithets of ([Sanskrit: shyámá, kálí, jaladha] and [Sanskrit: níradavaraná]) and so forth, and this is the whole mystery of the Sákta faith). 4. This hypostatic fragment is also conceived in its three different lights or phases, of rarity, density and rigidity or grossness, ([Sanskrit: sukhsmá; madhyá, sthúlá]) resembling the twilight, midday light, and darkness of the solar light. The first of these is called the mind or creative will, the second styled the Brahmá Hiranyagarbha or the creative power, and the third is known as Virát, the framer of the material frame, and as identic with creation itself. 5. These are again denominated the three qualities (trigunas), according to their different states, and these are the qualities of reality, brightness and darkness _satva_, _rajas_ and _tamas_, which are designated also as the triple nature of things or their _swabhávas_ or _prakriti_. 6. Know all nature to be characterised by ignorance of the triple states of the _positive and comparative and superlative degrees_; these _are inbred in all living_ beings, except the Being that is beyond them, and which is the supreme one. 7. Again the three qualities of _satva_, _rajas_, and _tamas_ or the positive, comparative and superlative, which are mentioned in this place, have each of them its subdivisions also into three kinds of the same name. 8. Thus the original Ignorance ([Sanskrit: avidyá]), becomes of nine kinds by difference of its several qualities; and whatever is seen or known here below, is included under one or of the various kinds. (Hence the saktas reckon ten different forms of [Sanskrit: mahávidyá], comprising the primary ignorance and its nine fold divisions). 9. Now Ráma, know the positive or satwika quality of ignorance, to comprise the several classes of living beings known as the Rishis, Munis, the Siddhas and Nágas, the Vidyádharas and Suras. (All of these are marked by the positive quality of goodness inborn in their nature). 10. Again this quality of positive goodness comprises the Suras or gods Hara and others of the first class that are purely and truly good. The sages and Siddhas forming the second or intermediate class, are endued with a less share of goodness in them, while Nágas or Vidyádharas making the last class possess it in the least degree. 11. The gods being born with the pure essence of goodness, and remaining unmixed with the properties of other natures, have attained the state of purity (Holiness) like the divine Hari Hara and others. (_i.e._ So long the divine nature of a god is not shrouded under the veil of ignorance (avidyá _ávarana_), he is to be held in the light of a divinity as a Christ or Buddha); otherwise rajasha or qualified states of Hari Hara as they are represented by the vulgar, are neither to be regarded as such. 12. Ráma! whoever is fraught with the quality of goodness in his nature, and acquainted with divine knowledge in his mind, such a one is said to be liberated in this life, and freed from further transmigration. 13. It is for this reason, O high minded Ráma! that the gods Rudra and others who possess the properties of goodness in them, are said to continue in their liberated state to the final end of the world. (Hence the immortals never die and being released from their earthly coil, their good spirits rove at large in open air; last and until the last doomsday rorqucamat or final resurrection of the dead). 14. Great souls remain liberated, as long as they continue to live in their mortal bodies; and after the shuffling of their frail bodies, they become free as their disembodied spirits; and then reside in the supreme spirit. (_i.e._ They return to the source from which they had proceeded). 15. It is the part of ignorance to lead men to the performance of acts, which after their death, become the roots of producing other acts also in all successive states of transmigration. (Ignorance leads one to interminable action in repeated births, by making the acts of the prior life to become the source of others in the next, so the acts of ignorance, become the seeds and fruits of themselves by turns, and there is no cessation nor liberation from them). 16. Ignorance rises from knowledge, as the hollow bubble bursts out of the level of liquid water; and it sets and sinks in knowledge likewise, as the bubble subsides to rest in the same water. (Ignorance and its action which are causes of creation, have both their rise from the omniscience and inaction of God until they are dissolved at the dissolution of the world. Physical force rises from and rests in the spiritual. Ignorance--_avidyá_ being but a negation of knowledge--vidyá, is said to proceed from:--the negative being but privation of the positive). 17. And as there is no such thing as a wave; but a word coined to denote the heaving of water; so there is nothing as ignorance but a word fabricated to express the want of knowledge. (Hence the believers in ignorance are mistaken in relying their faith in a power which has no existence whatever). 18. As the water and waves are identic in their true sense, and there is no material difference between them; so both knowledge and ignorance relating to the same thing, and expressing either its presence or absence, there can be no essential difference in their significance. 19. Leaving aside the sights of knowledge and ignorance, there remains that which always exists of itself (that is, the self-existent God exists, beyond both the knowledge and ignorance of men, or whether they know him or not). It is only the contradiction of adverse parties ([Sanskrit: pratiyogi byavaccheda]) that has introduced these words. (_i.e._, calling the opponents as ignorant and themselves as the knowing, in their mutual altercation with one another). 20. The sights of knowledge and ignorance are nothing; (_i.e._, they are both blind to the sight of truth): therefore be firm in what is beyond these, and which can neither be known nor ignored by imagination of it. 21. There is some thing which is not any thing, except that it exists in the manner of the intellect and consciousness _chit-samvit_, and this again has no representation of it, and therefore that ens or sat is said to be inevident avidyá the unknowable. 22. That One Sat being known as this or such, is said to be the destroyer of ignorance; whereas it is want of this knowledge, that gives rise to the false conception of an _Avidyá_ or ignorance. (Avidyá, mithyá, kalpaná signifies ignorance to be a false imagination and personification also, as it is seen in the images of the ten Avidyás here). 23. When knowledge and ignorance are both lost in oblivion within one in the intellect as when both the sun-shine and its shadow are lost in shade of night. (_i.e._, both the knowledge of the subjective _ego_ and objective _non-ego_ which is caused by ignorance being concentrated in the consciousness of the intellect only within one's self). 24. Then there remains the one only that is to be gained and known, and thus it is, that the loss of ignorance tends to the dissipation of self-knowledge likewise (which is caused by it); just as the want of oil extinguishes the lamp. (Egoism and ignorance being akin to one another, both of them rise and remain and die together [Sanskrit: ajnánahámkarayoreko satitayorút pattináshau yúgavadeba]). 25. That what remains afterwards, is either nullity or the whole plenum, in which all these things appear to subsist, or it is nothing at all. (The one is the view of atheists who deny all existence, and the other of máyikas who maintain the visible nature as mere illusion. ([Sanskrit: máyámayamidamakhilam])). 26. As the minute grain of the Indian fig-tree contains within it the future arbor and its undeveloped state, so the almighty power of omnipotence is lodged in the minute receptacle of the spirit before its expansion into immensity. (The developed and undeveloped states of the supreme power, are called its vyákrita and avyákrita forces). 27. The divine spirit is more rarefied than the subtile air, and yet is not a vacuity having the chit or intellect in itself. It is as the sun-stone with its inherent fire and the milk with the latent butter unborn in it. (Hence the spirit of God is said to be embryonic seed of the universe. [Sanskrit: brahmándavíjam]). 28. All space and time reside in that spirit for their development, as the spark proceeds from the fire and light issues from the sun in which they are contained. (The will or word of God produces all things from his spiritual essence). 29. So all things are settled in the Supreme intellect, and show themselves unto us as the waves of the sea and as the radiance of gems: and so our understandings also are reflexions of the same. 30. The Divine intellect is the store-house of all things, and the reservoir of all consciousness (_i.e._, the fountain-head of the understandings of all living beings). It is the Divine essence which pervades the inside and outside of every thing. (All things are dependent to the entity of God for their existence, and there is no independent particle whatever). 31. The Divine soul is as imperishable as the air within a pot which is not destroyed by breaking of the vessel, but mixes and continues forever with the common and its surrounding air. Know also the lives and actions of living beings to be dependent upon the will of the God, as the mobility of the iron depends upon the attraction of the loadstone. (This passage negatives the free agency of man, and allows him an activity in common with that of all living beings, under the direction of the great magnet of the Divine spirit and will). 32. The action of the inactive or quiescent spirit of God, is to be understood in the same manner, as the motion of the lead is attributed to the causality of magnetic attraction, which moves the immovable iron. So the inert bodies of living beings, are moved by force of the intellectual soul. 33. The world is situated in that mundane seed of the universe, which is known under the name of intellect attributed to it by the wise. It is as void and formless as empty air, it is nothing nor has any thing in it except itself, and represents all and everything by itself, like the playful waves of the boundless ocean. CHAPTER X. REMOVAL OF IGNORANCE. Argument.--Ignorance and its bonds of Erroneous conceptions, and reliance on temporal objects, and the ways of getting release from them, by means of good understanding and right reasoning. Vasishtha continued:--Therefore this world with all its moving and unmoving beings is nothing (or no being at all). There is nothing that has its real being or entity, except the one true _Ens_ that thou must know. (all beings are not being except the one self-existing Being. So says Sadi. All this is not being and thyself art the only being. _Haman nestand anchi hastitue_, so also the sruti _Toam asi nányadasti_. _Tu est nullum est_). 2. Seek him O Ráma! who is beyond our thought and imagination, and comprises all entity and non-entity in himself, and cease to seek any living being or any thing in existence. (In Him is all life and every thing, that is or is not in Being and he is the source of life and light). 3. I would not have my heart to be enticed and deceived by the false attachments and affections of this world; all which are as delusive, as our misconception of a snake in a rope. (All our earthly relations with our relatives and properties, are deception that are soon detected by our good sense and reason, and they vanish as soon as our mistake of the snake in rope. Therefore let no worldly tie bind down thy heart to this earth). 4. Ignorance of the soul is the cause of our error of conceiving the distinctions of things; but the knowledge of the selfsame soul puts an end to all distinctions of knowledge of the reality of things, distinctive knowledge of existences--bheda jnána is erroneous; but their generalization--abheda jnána leads to right reasoning. 5. They call it ignorance _avidyá_, when the intellect is vitiated by its intellection of the intelligibles or chetyas, but the intelligibles being left out, it comes to know the soul which is free from all attributes. 6. The understanding only is the embodied soul _purusha_, which is lost upon the loss of the understanding; but the soul is said to last as long as there is understanding in the body, like the _ghatambare_ or air in the pot lasts with the lasting of the pot, and vanishes upon the loss or breaking of the vessel. (The soul lasts with the intellect in the body, but flies away upon the intellect's desertion of it. This is maintained by sruti). 7. The wandering intellect sees the soul to be wandering, and the sedate understanding thinks, it to be stationary, as one perceives his breath of life to be slow or quick, according as he sits still or runs about. In this manner the bewildered understanding finds the soul to be distracted also. (The temperament of the mind is attributed to the soul, which is devoid of all modality). 8. The mind wraps the inward soul with the coverlet of its various desires, as the silkworm twines the thin thread of its desires round about itself; which its wants of reason prevent it from understanding. (The word in the text is _bálavat_ boyishness, which is explained in the gloss to mean _nirvivekatwa_ or want of reason, and applied to the mind, means puerile foolishness). 9. Ráma said:--I see sir, that when our ignorance becomes too gross and solid, it becomes as dull and solid as stone; but tell me O venerable sir, how it becomes as a fixed tree or any other immovable substance. 10. Vasishtha replied:--The human intellect not having attained its perfect state of mindlessness, wherein it may have its supreme happiness and yet falling from its state of mindfulness, remains in the midmost position of a living and immovable plant or of an insensible material substance. (The middle state is called tatastha bháva, which is neither one of perfect sensibility nor impassivity). 11. It is impossible for them to have their liberation, whose organs of the eight senses lie as dormant and dumb and blind and inert in them as in any dull and dirt matter: and if they have any perception, it is that pain only. (The _puryastaka_ are the eight internal and external organs of sense instead of the ten organs _casandria_. By dormancy is meant their want of reason, and muteness and blindness express respectively the want of their faculties of sensation and action, inertness means here the want of mental action). 12. Ráma rejoined:--O sir, that best knowest the knowables! that the intellect which remains as unshaken as a fixed tree, with its reliance in the unity and without its knowledge of duality, approximates its perfection and approaches very near to its liberation (contrary to what thou sayest now, regarding impossibility of the dormant minds arriving to its freedom). 13. Vasishtha replied: Ráma! we call that to be the perpetual liberation of the soul, which follows persuasion of one common entity, after its rational investigation into the natures of all other things and their false appearances. (or else the blind torpidity of the irrational yogi, amounts rather to his bondage to ignorance than the liberation of his soul from it). 14. A man is then only said to have reached to his state of solity _kaivalya_, when he understands the community of all existence in the unity, and forsakes his desire for this thing and that. (But is said in sundry places of this work that the abandonment of the knowledge of the subjective and as well as of the objective, which constitutes the true liberation of the soul; which means the taking of the subject and object of thought and all other duties in nature in one self-existent unity and not to forget them all at once). (So says Sadi, when I turned out duality from my door I came to knowledge of one in all). 15. One is then said to recline in Brahma who is inclined to his spiritual Contemplation, after his investigation of divine knowledge in the sástras, and his discussion on the subject in the company of the learned doctors in divinity. (The unlearned religionist is either a zealot or an _opiniatre--abhakta tatwa jnáni_). 16. One who is dormant in his mind and has the seed of his desire lying latent in his heart, resembles an unmoving tree, bearing the vegetative seed of future regenerations (transmigrations) within its bosom. 17. All those men are called blocks who liken the blocks of wood and stone, and to be like brains who lack their brain work, and whose desires are gone to the rack. These men possessing the property of dulness as of dull matter, are subject to the pains of repeated births, recurring like the repetends of their remaining desires. (The doctrine of transmigration is, that the wish being father to the thought, every one meets with his lot in his next birth, as it is thought of or fostered by him in his present life. [Sanskrit: vásaná eva pratyávrittikáranam]). 18. All stationary and immovable things, which are endowed with the property of dull matter, are subject to repeated reproductions. (Owing to the reproductive seed which is inborn in them, like the inbred desire of living beings), though they may long continue in their dormant state (like images of saints in their trance). 19. Know O pure hearted Ráma! the seed of desire is as inbred in the breasts of plants, as the flowers are inborn in the seeds and the earthenwares are contained in the clay. (The statue says, Aristotle lies hid in the wood, and the gem in the stone, and require only the chisel of the carver and statuary to bring them out). 20. The heart that contains the fruitful seed of desire in it, can never have its rest or consummation even in its dormant state; but this seed being burnt and fried to its unproductiveness (by means of divine knowledge), it becomes productive of sanctity, though it may be in its full activity. 21. The heart that preserves the slightest remnant of any desire in it, it again filled with its full growth to luxuriance; as the little remainder of fire or the enemy, and of a debt and disease, and also of love and hatred, is enough to involve one in his ruin as a single drop of poison kills a man. (This stanza occurs in Chánakyá's Excerpta in another form, meaning to say that, "No wise man should leave their relic, lest they grow as big as before" [Sanskrit: punasva bhavati tasmádyasmát sesam na kárayet]). 22. He who has burnt away the seed of his desire from any thing, and looks upon the world with an even eye of indifference, is said to be perfectly liberated both in his embodied state in this earth, as also in his disembodied or spiritual form of the next world, and is no more subjected to any trouble: (Subjection to desire is deadly pain and freedom from it is perfect bliss. Or as it is said:--Desire is a disease and its want is ease. [Sanskrit: áshabhai param dukham nairáshyam paramamsukham]. Again our hopes and fears in constant strife, are both the bane of pig man life [Sanskrit: bhayáshá jívapásháh] &c.) 23. The intellectual power which enveloped by the seed of mental desire, supplies it with moisture for its germinating both in the forms of animals and vegetables every where (_i.e._ The divine power which inheres in the embryos of our desires, causes them to develope in their various forms). 24. This inherent power resides in the manner of productive power in the seeds of living beings, and in that of inertness in dull material bodies. It is of the nature of hardness in all solid substances, and that of tenuity in soft and liquid things. (_i.e._ The divine power forms the particular properties of things, and causes them to grow and remain in their own ways). 25. It exhibits the ash colour in ashes, and shows the particles in the dust of the earth; it shows the sableness of all swarthy things, and flashes in the whiteness of the glittering blade. 26. It is the spiritual power which assumes the communal form and figure, in which it resides in the community of material things, as a picture, a pot (ghata-pata) and the like. (The vanity of the unity is expressed in the words of Veda "the one in many." [illegible Sanskrit]) 27. It is in this manner that the divine spirit fills the whole phenomenal world, in its universally common nature, as overspreading cloud, fills the whole firmament in the rainy season. 28. I have thus expounded to you the true nature swarúpa--of the unknown Almighty power, according to my best understanding, and as far as it had been ascertained by the reasoning of the wise: that it fills all and is not the all itself, and is the true entity appearing as no entity at all. 29. It is our want of the sight of this invisible spiritual power, that leads us to erroneous conception of the entity of the external world, but a slight sight of this almighty Ens, removes all our pains in this scene of vanity. 30. It is our dimsightedness of Almighty power, which is styled our blindness or ignorance [Sanskrit: avidyá] by the wise. It is this ignorance which give rise to the belief of the existence of the world, and thereby produces all our errors and misery. 31. Who is so freed from this ignorance and beholds the glorious light of God full in his view; he finds his darkness disappear from his sight, as the icicles of night melt away at the appearance of solar light. 32. The ignorance of a man flies off like his dream, after he wakes from his sleep, and wishes to recall his past vision of the night. 33. Again when a man betakes himself to ponder well the properties of the object before him, his ignorance flies away from before his face, as darkness flies at the approach of light. 34. As darkness recedes from a man, that advances to explore into it with a lamp in his hand, and as butter is melted down by application of heat, so is one's ignorance dispelled and dissolved by application of the light and the rise of reason. 35. As one pursuing after darkness sees a lighted torch in his hand, sees but a blaze of light before, and no shadow of darkness about him; so the inquirer after truth perceives the light of truth, shining to his face and no vestige of untruth left behind him. 36. In this manner doth ignorance (Avidyá) fly away and disappear at the sight of the light of reason; and although an unreal nothing, she appears as something real, wherever there is the want of reason. (Hence all unreasoning men are the most ignorant). 37. As the great mass of thick darkness, disappears into nothing at the advance of light; it is in the same manner that the substantiality of gross ignorance, is dissolved into unsubstantiality at the advancement of knowledge. (so the advancement of inductive science, has put flight the dogmatic doctrines of old). 38. Unless one condescends to examine in a thing, it is impossible for him to distinguish it from another (as the shell from silver and rope for the snake); but upon his due examination of it, he comes to detect the fallacy of his prejudgment (as those of the silver and snake in the shell and the rope). 39. He who stoops to consider whether the flesh or blood or bones of his bodily frame, constitutes his personality, will at once perceive that he is none of these, and all these are distinct from himself. (The personality of a man consisting in his soul, and not in any part or whole of his body). 40. And as nothing belonging to the person makes the persons, but something beyond it that forms one's personality; so nothing in the world from its first to last is that spirit, but some thing which has neither its beginning nor end, is the eternal and infinite spirit. (The same is the universal soul). 41. Thus ignorance being got over there remains nothing whatever, except the one eternal soul which is the adorable Brahma and substantial whole. 42. The unreality of ignorance is evident from the negative term of negation and ignoring of its essentiality, and requires no other proof to disprove its essence; as the relish of a thing is best proved by the tongue and no other organ of sense. (The term Avidyá signifying the want of _vidyá_--knowledge and existence [Sanskrit: vidyámánatá]). 43. There is no ignorance nor inexistence except the intelligence and existence of God, who pervade over all visible and invisible natures, which are attributed with the appellations of existence and inexistence. (The whole being God (to Pan--the All) there is no existence or inexistence without Him). 44. So far about Avidyá, which is not the knowledge but ignorance of Brahma; and it is the dispersion of this ignorance which brings us to the knowledge of God. 45. The belief of this, that and all other things in the world, are distant and distinct from Brahma, is what is called _Avidyá_ or ignorance of him; but the belief that all things visible in the world, is the manifestation of omnipresence, causes the removal of ignorance, by presenting us to the presence of God. NOTE TO CHAPTER X. The following lines of the English poet, will be found fully to illustrate the divine attribute of omnipresence in the pantheistic _doctrine_ of Vedánta and Vasishtha, as shown in this chapter _et passen_. All are but parts, of one stupendous whole, Whose body nature is, and God the soul; That, changed through all, and yet in all the same; Great in the earth, as in the etherial frame; Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze; Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees; Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent; Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part. As full as perfect, in a pair as heart: As full as perfect, in vile man that mourns, As in the rapt seraph, that adores and burns; To him no high, now, no great, no small; He fills, he bounds, connects and equals all. Pope's Mortal Essays I. IX. CHAPTER XI. ASCERTAINMENT OF LIVING LIBERATION. Argument.--Instances of Living Liberation in Hari, Hara and others, and its consisting in the oecumenical knowledge of the one Brahma in all and every thing. Vasishtha said:--I tell you again and repeatedly O pious Ráma! for your understanding, that you can never know the spirit without your constant habit, of contemplating on it in your self-cogitation. (So the Sruti. _Atmá vára, mant avyam_, "the soul is to be constantly thought upon" and so also the Vedánta aphorism "asakrit upadesat" the soul is known by repeated instructions on spiritual knowledge). 2. It is gross ignorance which is known as nescience, and it becomes compact by the accumulated erroneous knowledge of previous births and past life (namely; the errors of the dualities of matter and spirit and of the living and Supreme soul, and the plurality of material and sensible objects). 3. The perceptions of the external and internal senses of body, both in the states of sensibility and insensibility, are also the causes of great errors or ignorance _crasse_ of embodied beings. (_i.e._ The sensible perceptions are preventives of spiritual knowledge which transcends the senses and is called [Sanskrit: atíndriya]). 4. Spiritual knowledge is far beyond the cognizance of the senses, and is only to be arrived at after subjection of the five external organs of sense, as also of the mind which is the sixth organ of sensation. 5. How then is it possible to have a sensible knowledge of the spirit, whose essence is beyond the reach of our faculties of sense, and whose powers transcend those of all our sensible organs? (_i.e._ Neither is the spirit perceptible by our senses, nor does it perceive all things by senses like ours). So the Srutis He is not to be perceived by the faculties of our sense, who does and perceives all with our organs. ([Sanskrit: na tatra vaggacchati namani ápanipádau yavanagtahítá]). 6. You must cut off this creeper of ignorance, which has grown up in the hollow of the tree of your heart, with the sharp sword of your knowledge, if you should have your consummation as an adept in divine wisdom. 7. Conduct yourself Ráma! in the same manner in the practice of your spiritual knowledge, as the king Janaka does with his full knowledge of all that is knowable to man. 8. He is quite confident in his certain knowledge of the main truth, both when he is employed in his active duties, in his waking state as well as when he remains quiet at his leisure. (The end of knowledge is to know God, and to rely on him both in busy and in active life). 9. It was by his reliance on this certain truth, that Hari was led to the performance of his various acts in his repeated births or incarnations. (A god in human flesh does his works as a god). 10. May you, Ráma! be certain of the main truth, which conducted the three-eyed god Siva in the company of his fair consort; and which led the dispassionate Brahmá to the act of creation. (_i.e._ the passionate and unimpassioned and those that are active or inactive are equally assured of this truth). 11. It was the assurance of this eternal verity, which led the preceptors of the gods and demons, even Brihaspati and Bhargava, in their duties; and which guide the sun and moon in their courses, and even directs the elements of fire and air in the wonted ways. 12. This truth was well known to the host of Sages, including Narada and Pulastya, Angira and Pracheta, and Bhrigu Krutu, Atri and Suka, as it is known to me also. 13. This is the certainty which has been arrived at by all other learned Brahmans and Sages, and this is the firm belief of every body, that has been liberated in his life time. 14. Ráma said:--Tell me truly, O venerable sir, the true nature of the truth, on which the great gods and wisest sages, have grounded their belief, and became freed from their sorrow and grief (in this world of sorrow and tears). 15. Vasishtha replied:--Hear me tell you! O worthy prince that art great in arms as in thy knowledge of all things, the plain truth in reply to your question, and the certitude arrived at by all of them (named above). 16. All these spacious worlds, that you behold to be spread all about you, they are all that One or _on_, and are situated in the immensity of Brahma. (In their real or spiritual nature, and after obliteration of the erroneous forms in which they appear to you. Their phenomenal appearances, being but the misconceptions of our errors). 17. Brahma is the intellect, and the same is this world and all its animate and inanimate creatures also; Myself and Brahma and so art thou thyself, and such are all our friends and foes beside us. 18. Brahma is the tripletime of the past, present and future, all which are comprehended in his eternity; in the manner of the continuity of waves, billows and surges, contained in the immensity of the ocean. 19. It is thus the same Brahma that appears to us in all the various forms of our perception, and in the different shapes of the actor, action and its act, as those of the feeder, feeding and the food, and of the receiver, reception and the thing received. (There being but the only unity of God, the same is changed to all forms of action and passion and so says the poet "that change through all and yet in all the same" and also unvaried in all with a varied name. This the vedánta says to be the _vivarta rúpa_ or the one changed in many form _vividha_ many, and varta let vertuus changed [Sanskrit: paribatta].) 20. Brahma expands in himself by his power of evolution, or unfolding himself by his vivarta sakti; Hence He would be our enemy if he would do any thing unfavourable into us. (God is good and never does any evil to any one: all he does in and to himself)? 21. Thus Brahma being situated and employed with himself, does nothing aught of good or evil to any other. The attribution of passions to him, is as the planting of a tree in empty air. (God is not capable of any human attribute, as it is usual with anthropomorphists to load him with). 22. How very delighted are they that are dead to their desires, to reflect on this truth, that they are continually living and moving in the all pervading Brahma. (In Him we live and move). 23. All things are full of Brahma, and there is naught of pleasure or pain herein; Brahma resides in his self-same all and is pleased with all in himself. (The one is full of bliss with all in himself). 24. The Lord is manifest in his Lordship, and I am no other person beside himself; this pot and that painting and I myself, are full with the self-same Brahma. 25. Hence it is in vain to speak of our attachment or aversion to worldliness, since we bear our bodies and dare to die in Brahma only. (It is that something, for which we bear to live, and dare to die, Pope). 26. Our bodies being the abodes of Brahma, it is as false to think to our bodily pains, as also of our pleasure in bodily enjoyments, as to take a rope for a serpent. (Hence we can have no sense of our pleasure or pain, as long we know ourselves to be situated in Brahma and He in us). 27. How say you, that this or that is your doing, when you have the power of doing nothing. (The fluctuation of the billows on the surface of the sea, cannot agitate the waters of the deep below.) 28. Myself, thyself and himself, and all others, are but the breaths of the universal spirit; and they heave and then subside to rest as waves of the sea; but the spirit of God, like the water of the deep, neither rises nor falls as ourselves or the fleeting waves at any time. 29. All persons returning to Brahma after their death, have their bodies also reduced into Him and retain their personal identity in Him in the same manner, as the moving and unmoving waters rest alike in the sea. 30. All moving and unmoving souls and bodies, rest alike in the supreme Brahma; as the _Jíva_ and its form reside in God, and the whirling and still waters remain in the same sea. 31. The soul and the body, are the two states of the likeness and unlikeness of Brahma, the one is the living soul of bodies, and the other is the gross body itself. 32. Irrational souls, that are ignorant of this truth, are verily subject to delusion; but the rational souls are not so, but enjoy their full bliss on earth, while the other is ever doomed to misery. 33. The blind behold the world all dark, while the eye-sighted find it fully bright and shining; so the wise are blessed with the knowledge of the one soul of the whole, while the ignorant are immerged in misery, by their want of such knowledge. 34. As the darkness of the night, presents its goblins and spectres, to the sight of children only, and not those of the grown up and adult; so the world presents its delusions to ignorant and never to the wise, who behold one Brahma only in all things before them. 35. There is nothing here that lives of itself, nor dies away to nothing; all equally exist in God at all time, and nothing is doomed to be born or perish herein to happiness or misery. 36. All beings are situated in the universal soul, as the waves in the vast expanse of the ocean, therefore it is erroneous to say the one reside in the spirit, and another to be beside it. 37. As there is an inborn light in the crystal, which is capable of reflecting a variety of rays, so the spirit of God dwells in his own spirit in the form of the universe, showing various shapes to view by the inner light of the spirit. 38. As the particles of water flying from the waves, fall into the sea and mix with its body of water; so the bodies of dying people, fall into the body of Brahma, wherein they subsisted in their life time. (So there is neither an increase or diminution of the essence of Brahma, by the birth or death or increase or decrease of beings in the world). 39. There is nobody nor being beside the being of Brahma, as there is no wave nor foam or froth of the sea beside the water of the deep. 40. As the billows and waves, the surges and eddies, and their froths and foams, and bubbles and minute particles, are all formations of water in the great body of waters; so are all beings but productions of the spirit in the Infinite spirit. (All matter is reduced to the spirits, and the spirits are consolidated to material substances by chemical process). 41. All bodies with their various modes, and organs of sense and their several functions, and all visible objects and their growth and decay, together with every thing conducing to our happiness and misery, and all other energies and their gains, are the works of Brahma in himself. (_i.e._ they are the self reflective acts of gods and not done for the sake of others). 42. The production of these various beings in _esse_, is from the essence of Brahma; as the formation of different ornaments, is from the substance of gold. There is no other formal cause or formation distinct from Brahma, and the distinction of the cause and its creation, is the erroneous conception of the ignorant. 43. The mind, understanding, egoism, and the elemental atoms, and the organs of sense, are all the various forms of Brahma; wherefore there is cause of our joy or grief. 44. The words I, thou, he, and this and that, as also the terms of the mind and matter, are all significant of the self-same Brahma _átmátmani_, in the same manner as the roaring of a cloud in the hills, resounds in a hundred echoes through their caverns. (All words applied to every thing, relate to the one self-same Brahma who is all in all _to pan_). 45. Brahma appears as an unknown stranger to us, through our ignorance of him, as the visions seen in a dream by our mind itself, appear foreign to us. (_i.e._ Our belief in the visibles is the cause of our disbelief in the invisible God; as our familiarity with the objects of our waking state, makes us reject our visionary dreams as false). 46. Ignorance of Brahmá as Brahma or what he is, makes men to reject divine knowledge altogether; as our ignorance of the quality of gold causes us to cast it off dross. (Brahma to the brute is, as the gem in the dung hill cast away by the silly cock). 47. Brahma is known as the Supreme spirit and sole Lord, by those who are acquainted with divine knowledge; but he is said to be unknown and involved in ignorance by them that are ignorant of Him. 48. Brahma being known as Brahma, becomes manifested such in a moment; just as gold when known as such, is taken in due esteem. 49. Those who are versed in divine knowledge, know Brahma as without a cause and causing nothing by himself, and that he is free from decay, and is the Supreme spirit and sole Lord of all. 50. He who can meditate in himself, on the omnipotence of Supreme spirit of Brahma; comes to behold him as such in a short time, even without a leader to guide him in his spiritual knowledge (one's own faith in Divine Omnipotence, is the surest means to the sight of his Maker). 51. The want of divine knowledge, that is called the ignorance of the ignorant; whereas it is the knowledge of God, that constitutes the true knowledge which removes the ignorance. 52. As an unknown friend is no friend at all, until he is recognized as such, after removal of one's forgetfulness; so God is no God to one, as long he continues in ignorance of Him. 53. We can then only know God, when the mind comes to perceive the unconnection of the soul with the body; and whereby it alienates itself from all worldly connections in disgust. 54. It is then that we come to know the one true God, when the mind is freed from its knowledge of duality; and by its distaste of dualism, it abandons its attachment to the world. 55. We then come to the knowledge of God, when we come to know ourselves to be other than our persons; and when by getting rid of our personal egoism, we forsake our affection for this unkindred world. 56. It is then that the thought of God rises in our minds, when we come to the true knowledge of thinking ourselves the same with Brahma; and when the mind is absorbed in the meditation of the divine truth in one's self. (This is the sublimation of the Yogi to the divine state; or when the Yogi loses himself, in his rapturous vision on the one God. This kind of meditation is indicated in the formula "Soham" in Vedánta and _an ald Huq_ in sufism). 57. God being known as the _tout ensemble_ or comprising the whole _plenum_, we come to believe the same as Brahma; and losing our egoism and tuism in the same, we come to the knowledge of that entity only comprising the entire universe. (This belief of the entirety of the Deity, is expressed in the words "_Tat Sat_" corresponding with _to on_, _idest_, _alast_, that is, He in the creeds of other people). 58. When I come to know this true and omniform Brahma, as all in all, and forming the entire whole; I become released from all my sorrow and grief, and am set free from all my delusion and desire, and the responsibility of my duties (from the belief of God's agency in all things). 59. I am quite calm and at ease and without any sorrow or grief, by my knowledge of the truth, that I am no other than Brahma Himself; I am as cool as the moon, without her spots and phases in me, and I am the all entire, without any disease, decay or diminution in me. (This is said with regard to the universal soul, which engrosses all souls and things in itself). 60. It is true that I am the all pervading Brahma, and therefore I can neither wish to have or leave any thing from me; being of myself the blood, bones and flesh of my body. (The soul is the source of the body, and the spirit its life, without which it decays and dies away). 61. It is true that I am Brahma the universal soul, and therefore the intellect, mind and sensibility also; I am the heaven and sky with their luminaries and quarters and the nether worlds also. 62. It is true that I am Brahma, composing this pot and painting, these bushes and brambles, these forests and their grass, as also the seas and their waves. (One God is manifest in many forms). 63. The unity of Brahma is a certain truth, and it is the ego which is manifest in the seas and mountains and all living beings; and in the qualities of reception and emission, and of extension and contraction in all material bodies. (It is the Divinity that actuates the physical powers in nature). 64. All things of extended forms situated in the intellectual spirit of Brahma, who is the cause of the growth of creepers and plants, and of the germination of vegetative seeds. 65. The supreme Brahma resides in his sheath of the intellectual soul, in the manner of flavour in the cup of the flower; and thence diffuses itself on all sides in the form of everything everywhere. 66. He that is known as only soul of all, and who is ascertained as the supreme spirit, and who is designated by the appellations of the intellectual soul, Brahma the great, the only entity and reality, the Truth and Intelligence and apart from all. 67. He is said to be the all-inhering element, and Intelligence only without the intelligibles in it; He is the pure light that gives every being its consciousness of itself. 68. He appears to the spiritualist to be existent everywhere, as the tranquil and intelligent Brahma; and contains in himself the powers of all the faculties of the mind and body, such as the understanding and the organs of sense, so the sruti; "He is the mind of the mind, the sight of the eye." [Sanskrit: yascat?u sascat?unmanásá manoyadityádi]. 69. Give up the thought of thy difference from Brahma by knowing thyself as the reflexion of the intelligent soul; which is the cause of the causes of the existence of the world. Such as vacuum and others, which are causes of sound and are caused by vacuous spirit of God (and not as the vacuists and materialists belief them, to be increate essences from eternity). 70. The intellect of Brahma is the transparent receptacle of all essences, and my ego is of the same essence, which exudes continually as a shower of rain, from the transparent spirit of God. 71. I am that light which shines in the souls of yogis, and I am that silent spirit which is supported by the ambrosial drops of Divine Intellect; which continually distils its nectarious juice into our souls, as we may feel in ourselves. 72. I am as a wheel or circle without having the beginning or end of myself, and by having the pure intellect of Brahma in me. I am quiet in my deep sleep of samádhi meditation, and I perceive holy light shining within me. (The yogi in his devotion is absorbed in the calmness of his soul and is wrapt in divine light). 73. The thought that I am Brahma, affords afar greater delight to the soul, than the taste of any sweet meat, which gives but a momentary delight, so the sruti:--God is all sweetness [Sanskrit: rasobetat] (sweet is the memory of a friend, and sweeter far must be the thought of God, who is best and greatest friend). 74. One knowing his soul and intellect, knows the indestructible Brahma and himself as identic with the same; as one whose mind is possessed with the image of his beloved, beholds her bright countenance in the shining orb of the moon. 75. As the sights of earthly people are fixed in the etherial moon, so the sight of intellectual beings, is fixed in the supreme and indestructible soul, which he knows as self-same with himself. 76. The intellectual power which is situated in the vacuity of the heart, is verily the verity of the immaculate Brahma himself. Its pleasure and pain, and mutability and divisibility, are attributed to by ignorance only. 77. The soul that has known the truth, knows himself as the supreme Intellect, as the pilgrim on the way sees only his saint before him, and no intermediate object besides. 78. The belief that I am the pure and all pervading intellect, is attended with the purity and holiness of the soul, and the knowledge of the Divine power as the cause of the union of earth, air and water in the production of the germ of creation, is the main creed of all creeds. 79. I am that intellect of Brahma which is inherent in all things as their productive power; and I am that soul which causes the sweetness of the _beal_ and bitterness of _nimba_ fruits. 80. I am that divine intellect which inheres alike in all flavours, which is devoid of pain and pleasure and which I perceived in my mind by my consciousness. 81. I am the undecaying intellect of Brahma, and deem my gain and loss in equal light of indifference; while I view this earth and sky, and the sun and moon displayed before my eyes in all their glory. 82. I am that pure and serenely bright Brahma, whose glory is displayed alike in all of these, and which I behold to shine vividly before me, whether when I am awake or asleep or whenever I am in the state of dreaming or profound sleep. 83. I am that Brahma who is without beginning and end, who is known by his four fold hypostases, and is ever indestructible and undecaying. He resides in the souls of men in the form of sweetness in the sugarcane through all their transmigrations. 84. I am that intellect of Brahma, which like the sunshine pervades equally in the form of transparent light in and above all created beings. 85. I am that all pervasive intellect of Brahma, which like the charming moon light fills the whole universe; and which we feel and taste in our hearts, as the delicious draught of ambrosia. 86. I am that intellect of Brahma, which extends undivided over the whole and all parts of the universe, and which embraces all existence as the moving clouds of heaven encompasses the firmament. CHAPTER XII. Argument.--Investigation in the doubts respecting living liberation. Vasishtha said:--Great minded men that are certain of these truths, are purified from their sins, and finding their tranquillity in the reliance on truth, enjoy the delight of the even equanimity of their souls, both in their prosperity and adversity. (Truthfulness and equanimity are god-like attributes). 2. So the wise men of perfect understandings, being evenly dispassionate in their minds; feel themselves neither glad nor sad, either in the enjoyment or deprivation of their lives (which are alike to them, because death is but the beginning or continuance of life in another state or world). 3. They remain as unseen and marvelously mighty, as the arms of Náráyana (god); and as straight and firm and yet as low and fragile as the body and broken rocks of mount Meru on earth. 4. They roam about at pleasure in woodlands and over islands and amidst cities also, and like the gods of paradise they wander about the beautiful groves and sceneries of nature. 5. They roved in flowery gardens shaken by the playful breezes, and also in the romantic forests on the skirts and tops of mountains. 6. They conquer also their enemies, and reign in their realms with the chouri and umbrella ensigns of their royalty; they enjoy the various produce and wealth of their kingdom, and observe the various customs and usages of their country. (The wise man freely enjoy all things without being bound into them). 7. They follow all the rules and rites, established by the laws of their countries; and inculcated as duties for the observance of all. 8. They do not disdain to taste the pleasures, that would make the beauties smile at; nor are they averse to the enjoyment of luxuries, that they can rightly use and enjoy. 9. They smell the fragrance of mandara-flowers, and taste the sweet juice of mango-fruits; they regale themselves with the sweet songs of Apsaras, and revel in the arbours of Nandara or pleasure garden. 10. They never disregard the duties that bind all mankind to them, nor neglect to perform the sacrifices and observe the ordinances that are imperious on domestic life. 11. But they are saved from falling into dangers and evils of all kinds, and escape the danger of falling under the feet of murderous elephants, and avoid the uproar of trumpets and the imminent death in battle-fields (_i.e._ Wise men avoid the dangers to which the ignorant are liable). 12. They abide with those that are afflicted in their hearts, as among the marauding plunderers of the country; they dwell among the oppressed cowardly people, as also amongst their oppressors. Thus they are conversant with the practices of all opposing parties, without mixing with any one of them. 13. But their minds are clear of doubts and free from errors unaffected by passions and affections, and unattached to any person or thing. They are quite discrete and disengaged, free and liberated, tranquil and serene, inclined to goodness reclining and resting in Supreme spirit. 14. They are never immerged in great dangers, nor are they ever involved in very great difficulties. But remain as the boundary mountains, remaining unimmersed amidst the water of a circumjacent lake. 15. They are never elated with joy, at the fluctuating favours of fond and fascinating fortune; nor are they swollen, like the sea at the increasing digits of the moon. 16. They do not fade away under sorrow or sickness, like plants under the scorching sun beams, nor are they refreshed by refreshments, like medicinal plants under the refreshing dews of night. 17. They are employed calmly and without anxiety in the discharge of their duties and in the acts of fruition karma, and neither long for nor relinquish the fruition, which is attendant upon them (_i.e._ They do what is to be done, not for reward but as a matter of course). 18. They are neither elated with the success of their undertakings, nor are they depressed by the mishap of their efforts, they are not joyous at their joy and hey-day, nor do they sink under in danger and difficulty. 19. They do not droop down under despondence, nor are they dejected in despair, they are not merry in their prosperity, nor do they wail and weep in their adversity. 20. They discharge their customary duties as prescribed by law and usage, but their minds remain as firm and unmoved, as a mountain at all the efforts of the body. 21. Now Ráma! Remove your sight for thy own egoism, and keep it fixed on the true ego which is a destroyer of all sins; and then go on with your ordinary course of conduct as thou mayest like. 22. Look at these creations and their various creatures, as they have existed in their successive stages and phases; but do you remain as firm as rock and as deep as the sea, and get rid of your errors. (_i.e._ Your observation of nature can only remove your errors). 23. Know this grand whole as the reflexion of one sole Intellect, beside which there is nothing as a reality or unreality, or as some thing or nothing. (_Jo kuch hai ohi hai, nehinaur kuch'he_. Whatever there is, is he himself, and there is _nil_ beside his _ens_ or self). 24. Ráma! have thy greatness as the great Brahma, and preserve the dignity of human nature about thee; reject all whatever as unworthy of thee, and with an unattached heart to every thing, manage thyself with gentleness every where, and thus pass the days here. (As an heir of eternity). 25. Why dost thou weep with thy heart full of sorrow and grief, and why dost thou lament like the deluded, and why rovest thou with thy wandering mind, like a swimming straw to the whistling eddy. 26. Ráma replied--Verily sir, the dart of my doubts is now rubbed out of my mind, and my heart is awakened to its good senses by thy kindness, as the lotus is enlivened by thy rising sun-light. 27. My errors are dispersed as the morning fog in autumn; and my doubts are set down by your lectures; which I will always adhere to. 28. I am now set free from the follies of pride, vanity, envy and insensibility; and I feel lasting spiritual joy rising within me after the subsidence of all my sorrows. And now if you are not tired, please deliver your lectures with your clear understanding, and I will follow and practice them without fear or hesitation. CHAPTER XIII. THE TWO YOGAS OF KNOWLEDGE AND REASONING. Argument.--The two yogas or Habits of restraining the Desires and Respiration herein before described, are followed by two others: viz. the Acquisition of knowledge and the Training to reasoning which are yogas also. Ráma said:--I am verily becalmed and set at ease, O Brahman! by relinquishing all my desires, from my full knowledge of their impropriety; and by my being staid in the state of the liberated, even in this my present life. (The heaven of the holy, commences in their earthly life). 2. But tell me, sir, how a man can have his liberation, by restraining his respirations for a time; and how the restraint of one's breathings, can put a restriction to his desires, which reside and rise from the mind; while it belongs to the body and comes in and out of the heart and lungs. (Nostrils). 3. Vasishtha said:--The means of fording over the ocean of this earth is known, O Ráma! by the word Yoga or union, which is composed of the quality of pacifying the mind in either of the two ways or processes (as shown below). 4. The one is the acquisition of religious instruction, leading to the knowledge of the soul and of the Supreme soul, and the other is the restraining of respiration, which you will learn from the lecture that I am about to deliver. 5. Here Ráma interrupted and said:--Tell me, sir, which of the two is more delectable, owing to its facility and unpainfulness; and the knowledge or practice whereof, releases us from all fear and trouble whatsoever. 6. Vasishtha replied:--Ráma! although I have mentioned here of two kinds of Yoga, yet the common acceptation of the term, restricts it to the restriction of breathing. (The vulgar have no idea of esoteric occultism or _jnana Yoga_, but call him a Yogi, who is employed in his exoteric practices, of asceticism and austerities, suppression of breath; and all kinds of wilful pains). 7. The true Yoga is the concentration of the mind in God, which is the only means of our salvation in this world; and this is achieved in either way of the regulation of breathing, or perfection in learning, both of which tend to the one and same effect, of fixing the attention in divine meditation. 8. The practical yoga by the regulation of respiration, appears as too arduous a task to some persons, while proficiency in knowledge seems to be too difficult of attainment to others. But to my understanding the ascertainment of truth by theoretical knowledge seems to be far better than practice. (The theoretical meditation is known as the _rája yoga_, and the forced contraction of the breath is called the _hatha yoga_ or forced devotion, and is the device of Dattátreya who was an ancient Rishi also). 9. Ignorance is ever ignorant of truth, which does not lend its light to us in either our walking or sleeping states. So the ignorant practiser is always in ignorance both when he is in his meditative trance [Sanskrit: yogavidyá] or otherwise; but knowledge is always knowing, both when the knower is awake or asleep. 10. The practical yoga which stands in need of fixed attention, painful postures, and proper times and places, is impossible to be practiced, owing to the difficulty of getting all these advantages at all times. 11. I have thus described to you, O Ráma! both the two kinds of yoga propounded in the sástras, and the superiority of the pure knowledge, which fills the intellect with its unfading light. 12. The regulation of the breathings, the firmness of the body and dwelling in sequestered cells, are all I ween as pregnant of consummation--_siddhi_; but say, which of these is capable of giving knowledge [Sanskrit: vritti] to the understanding, which is the greatest perfection in human nature. 13. Now Ráma! if you think it possible for you, to sit quiet with utter suppression of your breaths and thoughts; then can you attempt to sit in your sedate posture of meditation without uttering a single word. CHAPTER XIV. NARRATIVE OF BHUSUNDA AND DESCRIPTION OF MOUNT MERU. Argument.--Vasishtha's visit to Meru in expectation of seeing Bhusunda and his description of the Mountain. Vasishtha related:--The vast universe, O Ráma! is but an evolution of the will of the Infinite Brahmá, just as the various representations in the mirage, are but eversions of solar rays. (Or these are the reflexions of the self-same Deity, as the Fata Morgana are the reflex of solar light). 2. Here the divine Brahmá that is born of the lotiform navel of Brahmá, takes the title of the creator and preserver of all, that has been produced by the supreme spirit; and is called also the great father of all, for his producing the prime progenitors of mankind. (Here Brahmá resembles Adam of the scriptures). 3. This divine being brought me forth from his mind, where fore I am called the _mánasaputra_ or progeny of the mind, of the mind of this holy personage. He made me settle first in the fixed polar circle of the starry frame, I viewed the revolutions of the planetary spheres, and the successive Manvantaras before me. (The Manus were all the progeny of the divine mind, whence they bear their name of Manu or mind-born). 4. Residing once in the imperial court of the lord of gods--Indra, I heard the accounts of many long living persons and people, from the mouths of Nárada and other messengers of the gods. (Nárada is the Mercury of Hindu mythology, and answers an angel of the scriptures). 5. There was once on a time the sage Sálatapá among them; who was a person of great understanding, a man of honor and taciturn in his speech; and said by way of conversation:-- 6. That there was in the north east summit of Mount Meru, a spot full of sparkling gems, where there was a _kalpa_ tree of the _chuta_ or _mango_ kind, which yielded its fruits in all seasons of the year. 7. The tree was covered all over with fresh and beautiful creepers, and a branch of it extending towards the south, had a large hollow in its top, containing the nest of birds of various kinds. 8. Among them there was a crow's nest, belonging to one old raven by name of Bhusunda, who lived quite happy with himself; as the god Brahmá dwells content in his lotus-bed. 9. There is no one in the womb of this world so long lived as he, nor even the gods in heaven, can boast a greater longevity than he among the feathered tribe; and it is doubtful whether there may be another as old as he in times to come. (Old as Adam and as old as Methuselah). 10. This crony crow was beauteous even in old age, and had become passionless and great-minded by his long experience. He remained quiet with the tranquillity of his mind, and was as graceful as he was full of knowledge of all times. (Achromatic as old Nestor of the present, past and future--_trikálajna_). 11. If any one may have the long life of this crow, his life becomes meritorious, and his old age is crowned with sapience. (The vigour of life is productive of meritorious works, and its decay is fraught with wisdom). 12. In this manner, he related the virtues of the bird in full, at the request of the gods in heaven; and did not utter any thing more or less, before the assembly of the deities who knew all things. 13. After the gods had been satisfied with the narration of the veteran crow, I felt a great curiosity in me, to see and know more of this superannuated bird (for who is it that has not an eager desire to learn the art of longevity). 14. With this desire, I hastened to the spot, where the crow was said to rest in his happy nest; and I reached in a short time, to the summit of Meru, which was shining with its precious stones. (The descent from heaven to the lofty top of Meru could not be long, since the gods are said to be all situated on this high mountain. ([Sanskrit: tasminnadrau trayasvimsat vasatihiga nadevatah]), and again ([Sanskrit: yávatmerausyitadeváh]).) 15. The peak of the mountain was flaming as fire, with the glare of its gems and red earth--_gairika_, and these painted the upper sky, with the bright hue of florid honey and sparkling wine. 16. The mountain shone as brightly as it were burning with the blaze of the last conflagration, and the sky was reddened by their reflexion with shades of clouds; appearing as the smoke of fire or the blue lustre of sapphire. 17. The mountain appeared to be formed by a collection of all kinds of colours on earth, which gave it the appearance of the variegated sky in west at the time of the setting sun. 18. The flame of fire proceeding from its crater, and emitted through the crevice on its top, seemed as the culinary fire of the Yogi, carried up from his bowels to the cranium in Yoga. (This is styled the Utkranti Yoga or lifting the physical powers, and concentrating them all in the head--the seat of intellect). 19. The ruddy peaks and pinnacles of Sumeru, resembled his arms and fingers painted with lac-dye; in order to lay hold on his consort the fair moon by way of sport. (It means the mountain tops reaching to and touching the orb of the moon. So Kálidása makes his Himalaya transcend the sphere of the sun). 20. The lurid flame of wild fire on this mountain, seemed as the burning blaze of sacrificial fires, which are fed with clarified butter were rising to heaven. (Hence fire is styled the bearer of our offerings to the gods above--_havya-váhana_, because there is nothing on the earth except the flames of fire--that has the power of rising upwards, whence they are termed _Urdha--jwalana--havir--bhujas_. ([Sanskrit: urdha jvalana havirbhujam]).) 21. The mount with its elevated summit seemed to kiss the face of the sky, and to raise its fingers in the form of its peaks and pinnacles, with their blazing gems resembling the nails of the fingers, in order to count the scattered stars. 22. The clouds were roaring on one side of it with the loud noise of the drums, and the young plants and creepers were dancing in the happy arbours on another, clusters of flowers were smiling as blooming beauties on this side, and the swarms of humming bees were hovering on them on that. 23. Here the lofty palm trees seemed to be smiling with shewing their teeth in their denticulated leaves, on seeing the giddy groups of Apsaras, swinging and strolling about loosely in their amorous dalliances under their shade. 24. There the celestials were resorting in pairs to their grottos in the mountain, in order to relieve themselves of their trouble of trudging over the rugged paths of the craggy mountain; and they were clothed in the white vest of the open sky (nudity), and having the stream of Ganges falling from high for their sacred thread. (Here Meru means any mountain and Ganga is put for any stream descending from it). 25. The hoary mountain stood as a grey headed hermit, holding the reeds (with which it abounded) as canes in his hand; and the celestial inhabitants of the mount, rested in the coverts of the creepers, being lulled to sleep by gurgling sound of the waters falling from precipice to precipice. 26. The mountain king was crowned by the full blown lotuses that grow on its top, and was regaled by the sweet fragrance; which the odoriferous breezes bore from them. It was decorated with the gems of the starry frame on its crown, and charmed with the sweet songs of the _gandharvas_ playing their strains on it. 27. His hoary head pierced the silvery region of heaven, and was one with it in being the abode of the gods. 28. The many coloured tops of Meru, emitting the various colours of the red, white, black, blue, yellow, and gray stones that are embodied in its body, lent the sky its variegated hues in the morning and evening, while the versicolor blossoms on its tops, invited the Heavenly nymphs to their rambles and sports over them. CHAPTER XV. VASISHTHA'S VISIT TO BHUSANDA. Argument.--Description of the scenery on the top of Mount Meru. Allegory of the arbour of desire, the resort of all living beings. Description of Birds of the mountainous region, and lastly the character of _káka bhusanda_. Vasishtha continued:--I saw the _kalpa_ tree on the top of one of these peaks, which was girt by its branches on all sides; and covered with flowers appearing as tufts of hairs on its head. 2. This tree was covered with the dust of its flowers, which shrouded it as a thick mist or cloud; and its flowers shown as bright as brilliant gems upon it; its great height reaching to the sky, made it appear as a steeple or pinnacle standing upon the peak. (Allegorically the Kalpatree is the tree of Desire, which branches out into the various objects of our wish. Its flowers are all our sanguine hopes and expectations, which are hidden under the dark mist of futurity. The crown dwelling in its dark hollow, is the undwelling obscure soul, which is hid under the impervious gloom of our ignorant minds and false egoism. Its nest is in the highest divinity, and it is immortal because it is a particle of Eternal spirit). 3. Its flowers were twice as much as the number of stars in heaven, and its leaves redoubled the clouds in their bulk and thickness. Its filaments were more shining than the flash of lightnings, and the pollen of the flowers were brighter far than the circumambient beams of the radiant sun. (The flowers of the tree of Desire being our hopes and expectations, they are of course more numerous than the countless stars in the sky, but it is to say, what things are meant under the allegory of their leaflets farina and pistils). 4. The songs of the sylphs dwelling on the branches of this tree, resounded to the buzz of the humming bees, and the nimble feet and waving palms of the Apsaras in their sportive dance on every leaflet, reduplicated the number of the leaves as much again. (The feet and palms are always compared with the leaves of trees, so these meeting on every leaf is the lightsome leaping and skipping of the airy sylphs over them, increased the number of leaves to more than ever so many). 5. The spirits of the aerial siddhas and gandharvas hovering on this tree, far out-numbered the number of birds that flocked and fluttered about it; and the greyish frost which wrapped it as a gemming mantle, out-shone the glossy rind which served for its raiment of fine linen. 6. The top of this tree touches the lunar sphere, and by deriving its moisture from that humid planet, yields its fruits of larger size than the orb of the moon itself. And the clouds gathering about its trunk, have doubled the size of its joints. (i.e. The fruits of high desire are fairer and larger and more cooling than even the orb of the moon, and its sections are as bright as the bodies of clouds). 7. The gods rested on the trunk of this tree, and the Kinnaras reposed themselves on its leaves, the clouds covered its arbours, and the Asuras slept on its banks. 8. The Fairies repelled their mates by the sound of their bracelets, as the bees put the beetles to flight by their busy buzzing, and sucked the honey from the flowercup to their fill. (It means that females very often taste the sweets of their desire, while men are driven to labour). 9. The arbour of desire extends on all sides of the sky, and fills the space of the whole world, by embodying the gods and demigods and men and all kinds of living beings in it. (It is some desire or other that tends both the mortals and immortals in the course of their lives. Desire is the in-being of active life, and its want is either dulness or death). 10. It was full of its blooming buds and blossoms, and was covered with its tender leaves and leaflets, it was fraught with its flourishing flowers, and had graced the forest all around. 11. It flushed with its filaments, and abounded with its gemming florets; it was replete with its radiant vestures and ornamented trappings, to afford to the wants of its votaries, and it was ever in a flurry with sportive dance of the tender plants and creepers all around it. 12. It was full laden with flowers on all aides, and was abundant with its fruits on all its branches, and being fraught with the copious farina of its flowers, which it lavished and scattered on all its sides, it became charming and attractive of all hearts towards it. 13. I saw flock of the feathered tribe fluttering about the happy bowers, or resting about the broad boughs and branches of the tree; some of these were reposing in the coverts of the leafy arbour, and others pecking the flowers and fruits with their bills. 14. I saw the storks and geese which are the vehicles of Brahmá, feeding on fragments of lotus-stalks, resembling the digits of the bright moon in whiteness; and picking the bulbous roots of the _arjuna_ and lotus plants in the lakes. 15. The goslings of the geese of Brahmá, muttered the _omkára_, the initial syllable of the Veda, as they were addicted in it by their preceptor the god--Brahmá himself. 16. I saw the parrots with their blue pinions resembling the blue clouds of heaven, and beheld their red dusk beaks shining as the flash of lightnings, and uttering their shrill sound in the manner of the _swáhá_ of the veda. (The parrot is the vehicle of the god of fire, wherefore it is fit for him to utter the syllable _swáhá_; which is used in the invocation of fire: as _swáhá agnaye_). 17. I saw also the green parrots of the god of fire, scattered all about like the green _kusa_ grass lying scattered on the sacrificial alter of the gods; and I beheld the young peacocks with their crests glowing as the glistening flames of fire. 18. I saw there the groups of peacocks fostered by the goddess Gaurí (The peacocks of Juno), as also the big peacocks belonging to the god Kumára; I beheld likewise the vehicle of skanda, which are versed in knowledge. (One of these is said to be the expounder of a grammar, known by the name of Kaumári Kalápa Vyakarana). 19. I saw there many bulky and big bodied birds, that are born to live and breed and die away in their natal air, and never alight on the nether ground. These were as white as the clouds of autumn and nestles with their mates in air, and are commonly known under the name of Aerial Birds. 20. I saw the goslings of the breed of Brahma's geese, and the younglings of the brood of Agni's parrots. I beheld the big breed of the peacocks forming the vehicles of war god; (Skanda, Alexander)? 21. I saw the _Bharadwája_ and I saw there many other kinds of big birds. (Charui, birds with two mouths and gold finches with their golden crests). I saw also kalavinca sparrows, the little cranes and pelicans and cuckoos and vultures likewise and cranes and cocks. 22. I saw likewise a great variety of other birds as the Bhushus, Chushus and partridges of many kinds, whose numbers are no less than all the living animals of this earth taken together. (That is to say, the air and water abound with fowls and fishes of as great a variety and number as the animals on earth, and all of them dwell in tree of Desire as mankind and other terrestrial animals. _Nemo sine desiderium_). 23. I then began to pray from my etherial seat, and through the thickening leaves of the tree to the nest of the bird; amidst the hollows of far distant boughs towards the south. 24. After some time I came to descry at a distance a body of ravens, sitting in rows like leaves of the branches, and resembling the streaks of sable clouds on either sides of the _Lokáloka_--horizon. (The _Lokáloka_ mountain is a fictitious name for the horizon, which has light and darkness ever attendant on its either side. The term _lokáloka_ or light and shade, is also used to represent vicissitudes of life). 25. Here I beheld awhile afterwards, a lonely branch with a spacious hollow in it. It was strewn over with various flowers and redolent with a variety of perfumes. (The houses of great men are always scented with odours. ([Sanskrit: subásit harmmatalam manoramam]).) 26. It was as the happy abode of virtuous women in heaven, which are perfumed with sweet scenting clusters of flowers, and there the crows were sitting in rows, as they were perfectly freed from all cares and sorrows. 27. Their great group appeared as the big body of a cloud, separated from the tumultuous air of the lower atmosphere and resting on the calm firmament of the upper sky; and the venerable Bhusunda was seen sitting quietly with his exalted body. 28. He sat there as an entire sapphire shining prominent amongst fragments of glass, and seemed to be of a stout heart and mind, and of a dignified mien and graceful appearance. 29. Being heedful of the rule of the restriction of his respiration and suppression of his voice, he was quite happy with his long longevity, and was renowned every where as a long lived passe (seer). 30. He witnessed the course of ages and periods, and marked their advent and exodus in repeated succession; and was thereby known as the time worn Bhusunda in this world, and a being of stout and unflinching mind. 31. He was weary with counting the revolutions of the Kalpa cycles, and with recounting the returns of the preserving divinities of the world; such as the Sivas, Indras, the gods of the winds and other. 32. He was the chronicler of all antiquity, and the recorder of the wars of the gods and demons, and the hurling of the high hills in heaven; and yet he was of a clear countenance and profound mind; he was complacent to all, and his words are as sweet as honey. 33. This old seer related distinctly all that was unknown and indistinct to others, he was wanting in his egotism and selfishness, and was the lord over all his friends and children, and his servants and their seniors and he was the true narrator of all things at all times. 34. His speech was clear and graceful, sweet and pleasing, and his heart was as tender as the cooling lake, and as soft as the lotus-flower; he was acquainted with all usages and customs and the depth and profoundness of his knowledge, ever the serenity of his appearance. CHAPTER XVI. CONVERSATION OF VASISHTHA AND BHUSUNDA. Argument.--Reception of Vasishtha by Bhusunda, and the Inquiries of the sage regarding the life and acts of the crow. Vasishtha Continued:--I then alighted before the veteran crow with my brilliant etherial body, as a bright meteor falling from the sky on the top of a mountain; and this my sudden appearance startled the assembly, as if they were disturbed by my intrusion. 2. The assembly of the black birds trembled like the lotuses of the lake, at the shaking of the gentle breeze; and the agitation of the air at my slow descent, troubles them as much as an earthquake troubles the waters of the deep. 3. But Bhusunda who was a seer of the three times, was not at all disturbed at my arrival; but know me as Vasishtha, now in attendance upon him. (Like a flimsy cloud from the mount). 4. He then rose from his leafy seat, and advancing slowly before me, he said with sweet sounds distilling as honey. I welcome thee great sage to my humble cell. 5. Then he stretched both hands to me, holding clusters of flowers that he had at his will and then strewed them in hand-fulls upon me, as a cloud scatters the dewdrops over the ground. (The comparison of raindrops with the shedding of flowers is common in India and well known by the compound term _pushpa-vrishti_). 6. Take this seat said he, and stretched with his hand a newly shorn rind of the Kalpa tree; this he had plucked with his own hand, nor needed the help of his attendant crows in this gladsome task. 7. On the rising of Bhusunda, the menials also arose from their seats, and then on seeing the sage seated on his seat, they looked to and betook themselves to their respective seats and posts. 8. Then having refreshed myself with the sweet scent of the Kalpa creepers all about me, I was surrounded by all the birds that gathered round me, and had their chief sitting face to face in front of me. (This time worn etiquette of old India is still in vogue in the politest courts of the world). 9. Having offered me the water and honey for my refreshment, together with the honorarium worthy of me, the high minded Bhusunda felt the cheer of his mind, and then accosted me with complaisance and in words sweet as honey. (The serving of honey and water to guests of yore served the offering of brandy and water of modern fashion). 10. Bhusunda said:--O lord! thou hast after long favoured us with your kind visit, which has by its ambrosial influence resuscitated our arbor and ourselves. (Such is the visit of a superior to an inferior). 11. I ween, O great Muni! that art honoured of the honourable, that it is by virtue of my long earned virtues that you are now brought to this place, and want to be informed from where your course is bent to my humble abode. 12. You sir, that have long wandered amidst the great gloom of this world, and know its errors by your infallible experience, must have at last in the peace of your mind. (Peace after broils and strife. _Pax post turba_). 13. What is it that makes you take this trouble on yourself today, is what we wished to be informed at present; and your answer to those that are expectant of it, will be deemed as a great favour by them. 14. It is by the sight of your holy feet, O venerable sage! that we are put to the knowledge of every thing; and yet our obligation at this uncalled for call of yours here, emboldens us to ask this farther favour of yours. (Nobody asks nobody, that has nothing to do with him). 15. We know that it is your remembrance of us among the long living, that has directed your attention towards us, and made your holiness to sanctify this place by your gratuitous visit to us. 16. Though thus we know this as the cause of your calling into us; yet it is our desire of satisfying ourselves with the sweetness of your nectarious words, that has prompted to propose this query to you at present. 17. In this manner did the longival crow, that was clear sighted with his knowledge of the three times, deliver his inquiry by way of formality. 18. Vasishtha answered--Yes, O king of birds! it is true as thou sayst, that I have come here thus to see thy diuturnal self; (because the aged are honoured as sages, and their shrines are visited as those of saints). 19. You are verily very fortunate with your cold heartedness, and your sagacity has haply saved you from falling into the dangerous snares of this world. 20. Now sir, deign to remove my doubt regarding to your anility, and tell me truly of what family you are born, and how you come to know what is worth knowing (respecting the origin and end of beings, and their good or bad lot afterwards). 21. Tell me sir, if you remember the length of life that you have passed, and if you recollect by your long sightedness how you came to be settled in this lodging. (Lit. who appointed this place for your habitation). 22. Bhusunda replied, I will relate to you all, O great sage! that you ask of me, and your great soul shall have to hear it attentively without any inadvertence of your mind. 23. It is certain, O venerable sir! that the topics, which deserve the attention of great minded souls like yourselves; will prove effective of destroying the evils of the world, as the influence of the clouds and their propitious rains remove the heat of the sun. CHAPTER XVII. DESCRIPTION OF BHUSUNDA'S PERSON. Argument.--Vasishtha relates to Ráma of the perfections of Bhusunda's Body and Mind, which entitled him to the enjoyment of his liberation in his living time. Vasishtha said:--Now Ráma, know this Bhusunda, who was of a complexion as black as that of a cloud heavy with water in the rainy season; to have a countenance which neither merry nor sorry, and a mind free from guile and cunning. 2. His voice was grave and mild, and his words were accompanied by a gentle smile, and he spoke of the three worlds, as if he balanced three _beal_ fruits in his hands. (His knowledge of the worlds, was as that of the globe in his hands). 3. He looked on all things as they were mere straws before him, and weighted the lives of men in proportion to their enjoyments, and by the ratio of their rations on earth, he had the knowledge of the knowables and the unknowable one (called the common and transcendental knowledge-_paránara_). 4. He was big bodied grave and quiet, and sedate as the mount Mandara; and his mind was as full and clear as the calm ocean after a storm. 5. His mind was perfectly tranquil and quite at ease; and full of joy within itself; and acquainted with the appearance and dis-appearance of all beings born in this world. 6. His countenance was delightsome with his inward delight, and his voice was as sweet as the melody of a sweet song; he seemed to have taken a new born form on himself, and his joyfulness dispelled the fears of men. 7. After he had respectfully received and accosted me, with his pure and dulciate words; he began to recite to me his own narration, as the rumbling of a rainy cloud, delights the hearts of the thirsty world. CHAPTER XVIII. MANNERS OF THE MÁTRIKA GODDESSES. Argument.--Bhusunda traces his origin from the Mátres, whose manners and revelries he describes in length. Bhusunda related:--There is in this world, the god of gods Hara (Horus?) by name; who is the chief among the celestials, and honoured by all the divinities of heaven. 2. He had his consort Gaurí constituting the better half of his body, and by whom he is embraced in the manner of an ivy clasping the young Amra tree. Her bosom likened a cluster of blooming blossom, and her eyes resembled the lines of black bees fluttering in the summer sky. 3. The hoary locks of hair on the braided head of Hara, were entwined as with a white lace, by the snow white stream of Ganges, whose billows and waves as clusters of flowers on the hair-band. 4. The crown of his head was decorated with the gemming milk-white disk of the moon, which sprung from the bosom of the milky ocean; and spread her bright radiance and ambrosial dews about his person. (The streams of ganguari are represented as consorts of Hara, and the moon as forming the discus on the braces of the hairs on his head). 5. The incessant effusion of ambrosial draughts, from the disk of the moon on his crest, has made him immortal by assuaging the heat of the deadly poison which he swallowed, and has marked his throat with the bluish hue of the sapphire or _lapis lazuli_, whence he named the blue gulletted Níla Kantha. (Hara is said to have swallowed the kála-kuta poison, as Hercules drank his full bowl of henbane). 6. The god is besmeared with powdered ashes on his body, as emblematical of the particles of dust, to which the world was reduced by the flame of his all destructive conflagration; while the stream of water flowing from the Ganges on his head, is typical of the current of his clear knowledge of all things. (Others make the burning fire of his frontal eye _bhála netra_ to represent the flash of his cognoscence--jnánágni). 7. His body is decorated with strings of blanched bones, which are brighter far than the silvery beams of fair moon, and these serve as necklaces of argent and pearly gems about his person. (Hence he is named as Jala-padda-málika). 8. His vest is the open sky with its plates of folded clouds, which are washed by the milk white beam of the moon, and studded with the variegated spots of the stars. (This means the nudity of the god, hence called Digamvara or sky attired). 9. He is beset by the prowling shakals, devouring the burnt carcasses on funeral grounds, and holds his abode beyond the habitations of men, in cemeteries and mortuaries in the outer skirts of cities. (Whence his name of Smashána sáyí). 10. The god is accompanied by the Mátres, who are decorated with strings of human skulls about their necks, and girt with the threads of their entrails on their bodies; while the fat and flesh of dead bodies, and the blood and moisture of putrid carcasses, form their delectable food and drink. 11. Their bodies are soft and shining as gold, and moving about with sparkling gem on their heads and bracelets of snakes curled round their wrists. 12. The acts of this god are dreadful to relate, and strike terror in hearts of the gods and demons, and all beings beside. One glance of his eye (coup d'oeil) is enough to set the mountains in a blaze, and his hunger grasps the whole world in one morsel. 13. The perpetual rest of his meditative mind in holy trance samádhi, hath restored the world to rest; and the movement of his arms at intervals, is attended with the destruction of demons. 14. His forms of the elements are intently lent on their fixed purposes, without being deterred from them by the impulses of his anger, enmity or affection; and the wind of his breath makes the mountains to tremble, and turn the humid earth to arid ground. 15. His playmates are the devils with their heads and faces, resembling those of bears and camels, goats and serpents; and such as have their heads for hoofs, and their hoofs as their hands, and whose hands serve as their teeth, and who have their faces and mouths set upon their bellies and breasts. 16. His face shone brightly with the rays of his three eyes (whereby he is denominated the triple eyed god _trinetra_); and the _mátres_ were dependant on him as his dependant demoniac bands--_gana-devatás_. 17. The Mátres joined with the bands of demons, dance about him lowly at his bidding, and feed upon the living bodies, that are born and dead in all the fourteen regions of creation. 18 The Mátres having their faces as those of asses and camels, rove at great distances from him; and are fond of feeding on the flesh and fat, and drinking the red hot blood of bodies as their wine. They have the fragments and members of dead bodies, hanging about their persons as strings of pearls. 19. They reside in the hollows of hills, in the open sky and in other regions also; they dwell also in the holes underneath the grounds, and like to abide in cemeteries and in the holes and pores of human and brute bodies. 20. There are the goddesses known under the names of Jayá and Vijayá, jayantí and Aparajitá; and again siddha Raktá and Alambushá, and also another bearing the name of utpatá. 21. These eight are denominated the Nayikai of leaders, of the whole body of Mátrikas; the others are subordinate to these, and there are others again subordinate to them. 22. Among all these venerable Mátres, there one by name of Alambushá, that is the source of my birth; and this I have revealed to you on account of your great favour to me, by your kind call to my cell. 23. She had the crow by name of Chanda for her vehicle, which had its bones and bills as strong as the bolts of Indra's thunder; it was as dark as a mountain of jetblack or blue agate, and served her goddess as Garuda served the consort of Vishnu. 24. This octad of Mátri goddess were once assembled together, and bent their course in the ethereal firmament on some of their malevolent purposes. 25. They made their merry makings and religious revels in the air, and then turned their course to the left side where they halted at the shrine of Tumburu, which was sacred to Siva. 26. They there worshipped the forms of Tumburu and Bhairava, which are adored in all the worlds; and then regaled themselves with a variety of discourses, seasoned with drinking and to ping. 27. Then they look up the topic among other subjects of their conversation, as to whether they were slighted and disliked by their paramour--the spouse of Umá, who is taken to share one half of his body. (In the shape of androgyne--Umá--Maheswara or Hara--Gaurí; having the male and female bodies joined in two halves in one bisex forms). 28. We shall now show him our prowess, that he may never think of despising our great powers even by a contemptuous look, for though the god feigns to be single and naked, yet we know he is bipartite with his consorts Umá forming his better half. 29. Thus determined the goddesses overpowered on Umá by some potent charm of theirs, and by sprinkling a little water upon her, as they do to captivate a beast, which they are going to sacrifice before the altar, and by this spell they succeeded both to change the fine features of Durga, as also to enervate her frame. 30. They succeeded also by their power of enchantment, to detach Umá from the body of Hara, and set her before them, with an imprecation of converting her fair form to their meat food. 31. They made great rejoicings on the day of their execration of Párvati; when they all joined in dancing and singing, and making their giddy revelries before her. 32. The shouts of their great joy and loud laughter resounded in the sky, and the jumping and hopping of their big bodies, laid open their backs and bellies to sight. 33. Some laughed as loudly with the deafening clappings of their palms, that they rebounded in the sky as the roarings of lions and clouds. They showed the gestures of their bodies in their warlike dance, and the sound of their singing rang through the forests and reached in the mountains. 34. Others sang as loud as it rang through the mountain caves, and ran to the depth of the ocean; which rebillowed with its surges as at the time of the full-moon tide. 35. Others drank their bowls, and daubed their bodies from head to foot with liquor; and muttered their drunken chatters, that chattered in the sky. 36. They drank over and sang louder and louder, they turned about as tops, and uttered and muttered as sots. They laughed and sipped and chopped and fell down and rolled and prattled aloud. Thus they reeled in fits, and bit the bits of their flesh meats, till these Bacchanal goddesses did all their orgies in their giddy revels. CHAPTER XIX. BHUSUNDA'S NATIVITY AND HABITATION. Argument.--Account of the birth of Bhusunda. Bhusunda continued. Thus while the goddesses were in the acts of their merriment, their bonny vehicles or carrier birds also caught the infection, and indulged themselves in their giddy jigs and giggles, and in tippling the red blood of their victims for their liquor. 2. Then giddy with their drink the gabbling geese, that were fit vehicles for Brahmá's consorts, danced and frolicked in the air, in company with the crow Chanda the carrying bird of Alambushá. 3. Then as the geese darted down, and kept dancing and drinking and tittling on the banks of streams, they felt impassioned and inflamed by lust: because the borders of waters are excitants of concupiscence. 4. Thus the geese being each and all excited by their carnal desire, dallied with that crow in their state of giddiness, which is often the cause of unnatural appetites. 5. Thus that single crow--Chanda by name, became spoused to seven geese at once on that bank; and cohabited one by one with every one of them, according to their desire. 6. Thus the geese became pregnant after gratification of their lust, and the goddesses being satisfied by their merry dance, held their quiet and took to their rest. 7. Then these goddesses of great delusion (mahá máyá), advanced towards their consort Siva, and presented unto him his favorite Umá for his food. 8. The god bearing the crescent moon on his fore-head, and holding the trident spike in his hand; coming to know that they had offered his beloved one for his meat, became highly incensed on the Mátres. 9. Then they brought out the parts of the body of Umá, which they had taken in as their food from their bodies; and presented her entire for her remarriage with the moon-headed deity. 10. At last the god Hara and his consorts being all reconciled to one another together with their dependants and vehicles, retired to their respective quarters with gladness of their minds. 11. The geese of Brahmá perceiving their pregnancy, repaired to the presence of their goddess, and represented to bear their case, as I have, O chief of sages! already related unto you. 12. The Devi on hearing their words, spake kindly unto them and said:--you my menials, cannot now be capable of bearing my car in the air as before; but must have the indulgence of moving about at your pleasure, until you have delivered of your burthens. 13. After the kind goddess had said these words to her geese, that were ailing under the load foetuses, she betook herself to her wonted meditation, and remained in her irreversible rest with the gladness of her mind. 14. The geese that were now big with the burden of their embryos, grazed in the lotus bed of Vishnu's navel, which had been the birth place of the great Brahmá before. (Brahmá the creative power, owed his birth to the lotiform navel of Vishnu, and the same place was all owed for the pasture of the geese and the nativity of the goslings). 15. The geese then being matured in their pregnancy, by feeding upon the lotus-like navel of Vishnu, brought forth their tender eggs in time, as the calmly creepers shoot out in sprouts in the spring. 16. They laid thrice seven eggs in their proper time, which afterwards split in twain, like so many mundane eggs in their upper and lower valves or canals. 17. It was these eggs, O great sage! that gave birth to thrice seven brethren of ours, all of whom are known under the appellation of the fraternity of chanda crows. 18. These being born in the lotus bed of Vishnu navel, were fostered and bred up in the same place, till they were fledged and enabled to fly and flutter in the air. 19. We then joined with our mother geese in the service of our Mátri-goddess, who after our long services unto her, was roused from her intense meditation at last. 20. Now sir, it was in course of time, that the goddess inclined of her own complaisance, to receive us into her good grace, and favour us with the gift (of foresight), whereby we are quite liberated in this life. (It is over one's blindness of the future, that is the cause of the error and mischief of life). 21. Thought in ourselves of remaining in peace, and in the tranquillity of our minds; and being determined to betake ourselves to solitary contemplation, we went to our sire the old crow Chanda for his advice. (In the Vindhyan mountain). 22. We were received into the embrace of our father, and favoured with the presence of his goddess Alumbusha; they looked on us with kindness, and allowed us to remain near them with our self restricted conduct. 23. Chanda said:--O my darlings! Have ye obtained your release from weaving the web of your desires? You are then set free from the snare of this world, which binds fast all beings in it. 24. If not so, then I will pray unto this goddess of mine, who is always propitious to her devotees, to confer on you the blessing of consummate knowledge (which alone can save you from all worldly evils). 25. The crows replied--O sir! we have known whatever is knowable, by the good grace of the Goddess Brahmá, it is only a good solitary place, which we now seek for the sake of undisturbed meditation. 26. Chanda returned--I will point it out to you, in the high mountain of Meru in the polar region; which is the seat of all the celestials, and the great receptacle of all the treasures and gems on earth. 27. This mountain stands as the lofty pillar of gold, in the midst of the great dome of the universe; it is lightet by the luminous orbs of the sun and moon as its two lamps, and is the residence of all kinds of animals. 28. This lofty mountain stands as the lifted arm of this orb of the earth, with its gemming peaks and pinnacles resembling its fingers and their jewels, and having the moonbeam, as a golden canopy raised over its head, and the sounding main girding the islands for its bracelets. 29. The mount Meru is situated in the midst of the Jambudwípa (Asia) as its sole monarch, and is beset by the boundary mountains as its chieftains on all sides. With its two eye balls of the rolling sun and moon, it glances over the surrounding hillocks, as the king seated in the centre, looks on the courtiers sitting all about him. 30. The clusters of stars in the sky, hangs as wreaths of málati flowers around his neck, and the bright moon that leads the train of stars, forms the crowning jewels over his head, the firmament on the ten sides girds him as his vest, and the nágas of both kinds (_i.e._ the elephants and serpents) are warders at his gates. 31. The nymphs of heaven are employed in fanning him with the breeze from all quarters, and flapping over him their _chouries_ of the passing clouds, with their hands decorated with the variegated hues of heaven as their ornaments. 32. His huge body stretched over many leagues, and his feet are rooted fast many fathoms underneath the earth; where they are worshipped by the nágas, Asuras and large serpents. (That dwell at the foot of the mount, while the races of gods are situated on its top). 33. It has thousands of ridges and steeps, craigs and cliffs, below its two eyes of sun and moon; and these are lauded as celestial regions by the Gods, gandharvas and kinnaras that inhabit in them. 34. There are fourteen kinds of superior beings, inhabiting the supernal sphere of this mountain; and these dwell there with their households and relatives, in their respective circles, without ever seeing the city or citadel of another. (This means the great extent and distance of the several separate ridges from one another. Its fourteen ridges or regions are known as the chaturdasa--vhuvanas, and fourteen peoples are included under the title of thirteen classes of celestials--_troadasa-gana-devatás_. These are the brahmarshis, Rajarshis, Devarshis, Devas, Pitris, Gandharvas, Kinnaras, Apsaras, Vidyádharas, Yakshas, Rakshas, Pramathas, Guhyakas and Nágas (the last of whom are not recognized among celestial beings).) 35. There is a large ridge on the north east corner of this mount, with its gemming summit rising as high and bright as the shining sun. 36. There stands a large _kalpa_ tree on the out side of that ridge, which is peopled with living beings of various kinds; and appears to present a picture of the whole world in miniature. 37. The southern stem of this tree has a protruding branch with its aureate leaves, and its blossoms blooming as clusters of brilliant gems; and presenting its fruit as lucid and luscious to view, as the bright and cooling orb of the moon. 38. I had formerly built my nest on that branch, and decorated it with all sorts of shining gems; and there it was, oh my offspring! that I sported and enjoyed myself, as long as my goddess sat in her meditative mood. 39. My nest was hid under the gemming flowers, and stored with luscious fruits, and its door was fastened with bolts of precious gems. 40. It was full of young crows, who knew how to behave properly with one another; Its inside was strewn over with flowers, and was cooling at all times and seasons. 41. Repair therefore, my children! to that nest, which is inaccessible even to the gods; because by remaining there, you will obtain both your livelihood and liberation without any molestation. (Livelihood with liberty, is the best blessing on earth). 42. Saying so, our father kissed and embraced everyone of us; and presented to us the meat food, which he had got from his goddess. 43. After taking our repast, we prostrated ourselves at the feet of our father and his goddess, and then flew in the air, from the Vindhyan range which is sacred to the divinity of Alumbusha. 44. We passed over the nether sky, entered into the region of the clouds; then coming out of their hollow caves, we flew aloft on the wings of the winds to the vacuous void of the etherial gods to whom we paid our homage. 45. Having then passed the solar world, we arrived at another sphere of the fixed stars above, where we saw the heaven of the immortals and thence reached the empyrean of Brahmá. 46. There we bowed down to the goddess Bráhmí, and our mother (the goose) which was her vehicle; and related in length to them the behest of our father unto us. 47. They endeared and embraced us with kind affection, and then bade us to do as we were bid by our sire. At this we bowed down to them, and took our departure from the seat of Brahmá. 48. We then directed our flight to Meru where we found out this _kalpa tree_ and our appointed nest in it. Here we line apart and remote from all, and hold our silence in all matters. 49. We passed the region of the regents of the skies, which shone to a great distance with the blaze of solar rays; we fled through the empty air with the velocity of winds. 50. I have thus related to you in length in answer to your query, regarding the manner of our birth and how we are settled in this place; I have told you also how we came to the knowledge of truth, whereby we have come to this state of undisturbed peace and tranquillity, now bid us, O great Sage! what more can we relate to satisfy your curiosity about us. CHAPTER XX. EXPLICATION OF THE MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER OF BHUSUNDA. Argument.--The stability of the world even at the change and dissolution of the worldly objects; and the immortality of Bhusunda even after the Demise of his Brethren. Bhusunda continued. This world has existed by the prior and bygone kalpa, in the very same state as it does at present, and there is no variation in the formation or location of any thing in any wise. (The ante-diluvean world alike the post-diluvean). 2. Therefore O great Sage! I am accustomed to look to the past and present with an equal eye, and will relate the events of my passed life and by gone ages for your information, as if they are existent with me even at present. (It is the fashion of the old chroniclers, to describe the long past as if it is actually present before them). 3. I find to-day, O great Sage! the fruit of my pious acts of my passed life, that have rewarded me with your blessed presence in this my humble cell. 4. This nest of mine, this branch of the tree, this _kalpa_ arbour and this myself, are all blessed by your propitious presence in this place. (The sight of a superior is a great favour). 5. Deign Sir, to accept of this seat and this honorarium, which are here offered to you by a suppliant bird; and having purified us by your kind acceptance of our poor offerings, please command what other service can we render unto you. (_i.e._, what more can I relate to you). 6. Vasishtha said:--Ráma! after Bhusunda had again presented the seat and honorarium to me, I proffered to him another request in the following words. 7. I said, tell me, O thou senior among birds, why don't I see here those brethren of yours, who must be equally senile and strong in their bodies and intellects, as thou showest thyself to be. 8. Bhusunda answered and said:--I am here destined to remain alone, O Muni! to witness the continuous course of time, and to count and recount the revolutions of ages, as they reckon the succession of days and nights. 9. During this length of time, I had the misfortune to witness all my juniors and younger brothers, to their mortal frames as trifling straws, and find their rest in the blessed state (Of eternity). 10. I saw, O great Sage! the very long lived, and the very great indignity, the very strong and very wise, to be all gorged in the unconscious bowels of bodiless death. (The great and small equally fall; and time at last devours them all. Non semper erit æstas). 11. Vasishtha said:--Say, O venerable father! how you remained unmolested by the deluvian tempest, which outstripped the winds in its velocity, and bore the great bodies of the sun and moon and stars as jewels hanging about its neck. 12. (The deluvian tempest is called _tufani nuh_ or hurricane of Noah in the Koran. The Khandapralaya is a partial deluge of the earth, but the mahápralaya is the aggregate of all the cosmic revolutions of the whole world). 12a. Say, O primeval seer! how you escaped unscorched by the burning flame of solar rays, which melted down the uprising mountains, and consumed there the woods in one all devouring conflagration. (The burning sun on the day of the last dissolution, is said in the Koran, to come down and stand at a lance's distance above the heads of men). 13. Say, O senile sire, how you remained unfrozen under the cold moon beams, that froze the limpid waters to hard stone; and how you fled unhurt from the showers of hail, which were poured in profusion by the deluvian clouds. 14. Say, O ancient bird! why you were not crushed under the snows, which fell from the deluvian clouds as thickly as huge trees, when they are felled by axes from the tops of high hills. 15. Say, why this _kalpa tree_ which rises higher than all other forests, was not broken down, when all other arbors on earth, were levelled to the ground by the universal tornado. 16. Bhusunda replied:--Our station, O Bráhman! in the open and empty air, is quite supportless and without any solid or fixed support. It is either unnoticed or looked upon with disregard and contempt by all, and our living and livelihood is the most despicable among all living beings. (All this is meant of the soul, which is here personified as a bird--a dark crow, and named as the _amara_ Bhusunda, a contemptuous word often applied to senile people). 17. Thus has the Lord of beings appointed these aerial beings, to remain free from disease and death in these forests, or fly about in the empty air in their aerial course. (The forests mean the living bodies, and the empty air is the field for the rambles of disembodied spirits). 18. How then, O venerable sir, can any sorrow or sickness betide us here, where we are born to be immortal, and rove freely in open air; and are free from those pains and sorrows, which betake those birds that are bound in snares of their desires, and are subject to their hopes and fears. 19. We sir, have always placed our reliance on the peace and contentment of our souls, and never allow ourselves to fall into error, of taking the insubstantials for substantial. 20. We are quite content with what simple nature requires and affords, and are entirely free from those cares and endeavours which are attended with pain. We live only to pass our time in this our own and lonely lodging (which is allotted to us by providence). 21. We neither wish to live long to wallow in our bodily enjoyments nor desire death to avoid the retribution of our acts; but live as long as we have to live, and die when death comes upon us. (Neither love thy life nor hate, but live well how long or short permit to heaven. Milton). 22. We have seen the changeful states of mankind, and witnessed many instances of the vicissitudes of human affairs, and have thereby banished all sorts of levity from our bodies and minds. (Lit. the restlessness of body and mind). 23. By the constant light of our internal spirit, we are kept from the sight of all sorrow and grief; and from our seat on the height of the kalpa tree, we clearly see the course of the world and the changes of time. (The kalpa tree of desire is at once the tree of life and knowledge of the garden of paradise, because both of them are equally desirable to man; and any one who is seated above this tree, must know all things by his all knowingness and immortality as the soul of Bhusunda). 24. Though we are wholly unacquainted with the changes of days and nights, on this high pinnacle of our heavenly mountain (where there is the eternal sunshine of Divine presence); yet we are not ignorant of the vicissitudes of the times and events, in the solar and sublunary worlds which roll incessantly below us. 25. Though our habitation in the cell of this Kalpatree, is ever illumined by the light of gems which are inlaid in it; yet we can know the course of time by the respirations of our breath, which as a chronometer informs us with the regular course of time. (The ajapá or breathings indicate the succession of time, as any time piece or the course of days and nights). 26. Knowing what is real from all that is unreal, I have desisted from my pursuit after unrealities, and settled in my knowledge of the true reality; and by forsaking its natural fickleness, my mind is practised to rest at all times in its perfect peace and tranquillity. (The mind is no more troubled with the tempting trifles of the world, after it has come to know their falsity and vanity). 27. We are not led to the snare of false worldly affairs, nor frightened like earthly crows in our hankering after food by the hissings of men. 28. It is by the serene light of the supreme felicity of our souls, and by the virtue of the unalterable patience of our minds, that we look into the errors and delusions of the world, with out falling in them ourselves. 29. Know great sage, that our minds remain unruffled, even under the shock of those dangers and perils, which ruffle the tempers and understandings of ordinary people; just as the pure crystal remains unstained by the blackest hues that environ it all around. 30. The course of the world, appears very smooth and pleasant in its first beginning; but upon mature consideration, it proves to be frail, fickle and false, as one goes on in it. 31. Thus all living beings are seen to pass away, and whether to return here again or not, no body can tell; what then is it that we must fear (knowing death and demise to be the unavoidable doom of nature). 32. As the course of streams runs continually to the ocean, so the progress of life tends incessantly to the depth of eternity; but we that stand on the border of the great ocean of eternity, have escaped from being carried away by the current of time. 33. We neither cling to our life nor fling it away, but bear it as well as we may, and remain as airy orchids, lightly touching and unattached to their supporting arbour. 34. It is more over by the good of the best sort of men, who are beyond the reach of fear, sorrow and pain like yourself; that we have been set free from all sorts of malady. 35. From the examples of such persons, our minds have become cold, and unconcerned about the affairs of busy life; and are employed only in scanning truth and the true nature of things. (Blessed are they that meditate on the laws of God both day and night). 36. Our souls finding their rest in their unchangeable and unperturbed state, have the fullness of their light and delight, as the sea has its flux of floodtide at the rising of the full and new moon upon its bosom. (The flood of spiritual light in the soul, resembling the flood of hightide in the sea). 37. Sir, we were as highly pleased at your presence here at this time, as the milky ocean was overflown at its churning by the Mandara mountain. (The Mandara mountain is said to have been the resort of the remnants of men at the great deluge, and was used by them as their churning stick, to recover their lost properties from the depth of the waters. The recovery was rather joyous to the men than it could be to the sea). 38. Sir, We do not account any thing as more precious and more favourable unto us, than that the holy saints that have nothing to desire, should take pains to pay their kind visit to our humble cell. 39. What do we gain from our enjoyments, which are pleasant for the time being, and lose their zest the next moment; it is the company of the great and good only, that gives the best gifts like the philosopher's stone. 40. You sir, who are cool and grave in your nature, and soft and sweet and slow in your speech, are like the beneficent bee, that sits and sips the juice from the flowers in the three worlds, and converts it to the sweet balm of honey. 41. I ween, O spiritual Sage! all my sins to be removed at your blessed sight, and the tree of my life to be blest with its best fruit of spiritual bliss, which results from the society of the virtuous, and whose taste removes all diseases and dangers. CHAPTER XXI. EXPLANATION OF THE CAUSE OF THE CROW'S LONGEVITY. Argument.--The eminence of the kalpa tree, and its durability in all ages. The doings of destiny, and the results of past reminiscence. Vhusunda continued. This kalpa tree whereon we dwell remains firm and unshaken amidst the revolutions of ages and the blasts of all destroying cyclones and hurricanes. (Figuratively said of human desires, which continue with the soul through all the vicissitudes of life, and all its endless transmigrations, so says ([Sanskrit: kálah krínati gacchatyáyustadapi namunchatyásárbayuh]).) 2. This arbor of desire is inaccessible to other people dwelling in all worlds; it is therefore that we reside here in perfect peace and delight, and without disturbance of any kind. (_i.e._ We dwell on the firm rock of our secret hopes and expectations, where no body can obtrude upon us, and of which no external accident has the power to despoil us). 3. When Heranyákha the gigantic demon of antediluvian race, strove to hurl this earth with all its septuple continents into the lowest abyss, even then did this tree remain firm on its roots, and on the summit of this mountains. 4. And then as this mountainous abode of the gods, stood trembling with all other mountains of this earth (on the tusk of the divine Varáha or boar), even then did this tree remain unshaken on its firm basis. 5. When Náráyana supported this seat of the gods on his two arms (_i.e._ the Meru), and uplifted the mandara mount on the other two, even then did this tree remain unshaken. 6. When the orbs of the sun and moon, shook with fear, at the tremendous warfare of the gods and demons, and the whole earth was in a state of commotion and confusion, even then did this tree stand firm on its root. 7. When the mountains were up-rooted by the hail-storms blowing with tremendous violence, and sweeping away the huge forest trees of this mount of Meru, even then was this tree unshaken by the blast. 8. When the mount Mandara rolled into the milky ocean, and gusts of wind filling its caverns (like canvases of a vessel), bore it afloat on the surface of the water; and the great masses of diluvian clouds rolled about in the vault of heaven, even then did this tree remain steadfast as a rock. 9. When this mount of Meru was under the grasp of Kálanemi and was going to crush by his gigantic might (with its inhabitants of the gods), even then this tree remained steady on its roots. 10. When the siddhas were blown away by the flapping wings of Garuda--the king of birds, in their mutual warfare for this ambrosial fare, even then this remained unmoved by the wind. 11. When the snake which upholds the earth, was assailed by Rudra in the form of Garuda, who shook the world by the blast of his wings, even then was this tree unshaken by the wind. 12. When the flame of the last conflagration, threatened to consume the world with the seas and mountains; and made the snake which supported the earth on his hoods, throw out living fire from all his many mouths, even then this tree was neither shaken nor burnt down by the gorgeous and all devouring fire. 13. Such being the stability of this tree, there is no danger O Sage! that can betake us here, as there is no evil than can ever betide the inhabitants of heaven. How can we, O great Sage! be ever exposed to any danger, who are thus situated in this tree which defies all casualties. We are out of all fear and danger as those that are situated in heaven. (The object of one's desire is in a manner his highest heaven). 14. Vasishtha rejoined: But tell me, O Sagely bird! that has borne with the blasts of dissolution, how could you remain unhurt and unimpaired, when many a sun and moon and stars have fallen and faded away. 15. Bhusunda said: When at the end of a kalpa period, the order of the world and laws of nature are broken and dissolved; we are then compelled to forsake our nest as an ungrateful man alienates his best friend. 16. We then remain in the air freed from our fancies, the members of the body become defunct of their natural functions, and the mind is released from its volitions. 17. When the zodiacal suns shine in their full vigour, and melt down the mountains by there intense heat, I then remain with my understanding; under the influence of Varuna's mantra or power. (Varuna the god of water is said to be allied with the human soul, which is a watery substance). 18. When the diluvian winds blow with full force, and shatter and scatter the huge mountains all around, it is then by minding the párvatí mantra, that I remain as fixed as a rock. (Vasishtha has explained the meaning of this mantra in the latter part of the _Nirvána prakarana_). 19. When the earth with its mountains is dissolved into water, and presents the face of an universal ocean over its surface; it is then by virtue of the _váyu mantra_ or my volatile power, that I keep myself aloft in the air. 20. I then convey myself across this visible world, and rest in the holy state of the spotless spirit; and remain in a state of profound sleep, without any agitation of the body and mind. 21. I remain in this torpid state, until the lotus-born Brahmà is again employed in his work of creation, and then I re-enter into the limits of the re-created world, where I settled again on this arbour of desire. (The departed soul is free from desire, which it re-assumes to itself upon its re-entrance into life). 22. Vasishtha said: Tell me, O lord of birds, why the other Yogis do not remain as steady as you do by your dháraná or fixed attention. 23. Bhusunda replied, O venerable sir! It is because of the inseparable and overruling power of destiny, which no body can prevent or set aside; that I am doomed to live in this wise and others in their particular modes of life. 24. None can oppose or remodel what must come to pass on him; it is nature's law that all things must be as they are ordained to be. (There is no helping for what is destined to happen, what is allotted, can not be averted). 25. It is because of my firm desire that things are so fixed and allotted to my share, that they must so come to pass to my lot at each kalpa and over again, and that this tree must grow on the summit of this mountain, and I must have my nest in its hollow. (The heart is the hollow of the tree of the body, and the soul is the bird that is confined there of its own desire). 26. Vasishtha said: You sir, are as longeval as our salvation is diuturnal, and are able to guide us in the paths of truth; because you are sapient in true wisdom, and sedate in your purpose of Yoga or deep meditation. 27. Sir, you have seen the many changes of the world, and have been experienced in all things in the repeated course of creations; must be best able to tell me the wonders that you have witnessed during the revolution of ages. 28. Bhusunda replied--I remember, O great sage! the earth beneath this mount of Meru to have been once a desolate land, and having no hill or rock, nor trees, plants or even grass upon it. (This was the primeval state of the earth, when nothing grew upon it, and agrees with what the Persian sophist thinks with regard to the priority of the soul to all other created things, as "_manan wakt budam ke nechak nabud_" I existed when there is nothing in existence). 29. I remember also the earth under me, to have been full of ashes for a period of myriads and centuries of years. (This was the age after the all devouring conflagration on earth). 30. I remember a time when the lord of day--the sun was unproduced, and when the orb of the moon was not yet known, and when the earth under me was not divided by day and light, but was lighted by the light of this mount of Meru. 31. I remember this mountain throwing the light of its gems on one side of the valley below it, and leaving the other in utter darkness; and resembling the lokáloka mount presenting its light and dark side to the people on either side of the horizon. (The sun is said to turn round the Meru, and the day and night as he is on one or the other side of this mountain). 32. I remember to have seen the war rising high between the gods and demons, and the flight and slaughter of people on all sides of the earth. 33. I remember to have witnessed the revolution of the four yuga-ages of the world, and the revolt of the haughty and giddy assyrians--asuras all along; I have also seen the Daitya--demons driven back to the wall. 34. I remember the spot of the earth, which was borne away beyond the boundaries of the universal flood; and recollect the cottage of the world, to have only the increate three (the Holy triad) left in it. 35. I remember to have seen no other creature on earth, except the vegetable creation for the long duration of one half of the four yuga-ages. (The earth was covered with jungle for a long period after the great flood). 36. I also remember this earth to be full of mountains and mountainous tracts, for the space of full four yugas; when there were no men peopled on earth, nor their customs and usages got their ground in it. 37. I remember to have seen this earth filled with the bones of dead Daityas and other fossil remains, rising in heaps like mountains, and continuing in their dilapidated and crumbling state for myriads of years. (These are the fossil remains of the monsters of the former world). 38. I remember that formless state of the world, when darkness prevailed over the face of the deep, when the serpentine support of the earth fled for fear, and the celestials left their etherial courses; and the sky presented neither a bird or the top of a tree in it. 39. I remember the time when the northern and southern divisions (of India), were both included under the one boundary mountain (of Himalaya); and I remember also when the proud vindhyan vied to equal the great Meru. 40. I remember these and many other events, which will be too long to relate; but what is the use of long narrations, if you will but attend to my telling you the main substance in brief. 41. I have beheld innumerable Munis and manwantaras pass away before me, and I have known hundreds of the quadruple yugas glide away one after the other, all of which were full of great deeds and events; but which are now buried in oblivion. 42. I remember the creation of one sole body named Virát in this world, when it was entirely devoid of men and asuras in it. 43. I remember that age of the world, when the Brahmans were addicted to wine and drunkenness, when the Sudras were out casted by the Suras (Aryans); and when women had the privilege of polyandry (which is still practised among the Pariahs of Deccan). 44. When the surface of the earth presented the sight of one great sheet of water (after the deluge), and entirely devoid of any vegetable produce upon it; and when men were produced without cohabitation of man and woman, I remember that time also (when Bhrigu and the patriarchs were born in this manner). 45. I remember that age of the world, when the world was a void, and there was no earth or sky nor any of their inhabitants in it, neither men nor mountains were in existence, nor were there the sun and moon to divide the days and nights. 46. I remember the sphere of heaven shrouded under a sheet of darkness, and when there was no Indra nor king to rule in heaven or earth, which had not yet its high and low and middle classes of men. 47. It was after that, the Brahmá thought of creating the worlds, and divided them into the three spheres of the upper, lower and the intermediate regions. He then settled the boundary mountains, and distinguished the Jambudvípa or the continent of Asia from the rest. 48. Then the earth was not divided into different countries and provinces, nor was there, the distinctions of cast and creed, nor institutions for the various orders of its people. There was then no name for the starry frame, nor any denomination for the polar star or its circle. 49. It was then that the sun and moon had their birth, and the gods Indra and Upendra had their dominions. After this occurred the slaughter of Hiranya-Kasipu, and the restoration of the earth by the great Varaha or boar like incarnation of Vishnu. 50. Then there was the establishment of kings over the peoples on earth, and the revelation of the Vedas given to mankind; after this the Mandara mountain was uprooted from the earth, and the ocean was churned by the gods and giant races of men. 51. I have seen the unfledged Garuda or bird of heaven, that bore Vishnu on his back; and I have seen the seas breaking in bays and gulfs. All these events are remembered by me as the latest occurrences in the course of the world, and must be in the memory of my youngsters and yourself likewise. 52. I have known in former ages the god Vishnu with his vehicle of Garuda, to have become Brahmá with his vehicle of swan, and the same transformed to Siva having the bull for his bearer and so the vice-versa. (This passage shows the unity of the Hindu trinity, and the interchangeableness of their persons, forms and attributes). CHAPTER XXII. ACCOUNT OF PAST AGES. Argument.--The various Events of bygone days, and the changes in the order of things in the world. Bhusunda continued:--Moreover I will tell you sir, many other things that I remember to have occurred in the course of the world, and under the flight of by gone times. I remember the births of the seers Bharadwája, Pulasta, Atri, Nárada, Indra, the Maríchis and yourselves also. 2. I bear in my mind the venerable Pulaha, Uddálaka, kratu, Bhrigu, Angiras and Sanatkumára, Bhringi and Ganesa, and Skanda and others in their train, who were known as Siddharshis or consummate sages of yore. 3. I retain the memory of Guarí, Sarasvatí, Laxmí, Gayatrí and many more famous females, who are reckoned as female personifications of divine attributes. I have seen the mountains Meru, Mandara, Kailása, the Himalayas and the Dardura hills. 4. I carry in my memory the exploits of the demons Hiranyáksha, Kálanimí, Hayagríva, Hiranya Kasipu, Vati and Prahláda and many others of the Dánava or Demoniac race. 5. I keep in my mind the remembrance of the renowned Sibi, Nyanku, Prithu, Vainya, Nala, Nábhága, Mandháta, Sagara, Dilipa and Nahusa kings of men and rulers of earth. 6. I know by heart the names of Atriya, Vyasa, Válmíki, Sukadeva, Vátsyayana and other sages, and know by rote the names of Upamanyu, Manimanki, Bhagíratha and other pious princes of old. 7. So there are many things of remote past times, and others of later ages and some relating to the present age; all of which are imprinted in the memory, wherefore it is needless to recount them over again. 8. O thou Sagely son of Brahmá! I remember thy eight births, in the eight different epochs of the world, and this is verily thy eight births in which thou hast become a guest to my nest. 9. You are at one time born of air, and at another of heavenly fire; you are some time produced from water, and at others from empty vacuity or of the solid rock. (_i.e._, formed of one or other of these elementary bodies at different periods of the world). 10. The constitution of created bodies, conforms us with the nature of the principle elements of which they are formed; and the positions of heavenly bodies, have a great influence on their production. I have witnessed three such formations of the world composed of igneous, aqueous and terrene substances at different times. 11. I remember ten repeated creations, in which the usages of people were uniform and alike; and the gods were settled in their abodes (_i.e._, the Aryans led nomadic life). They were coeval with the Asuras whom they braved in battle, and were located in their homestead. 12. I saw the earth sinking five times under, and lifted up as many times by the divine _Kurmamanantara_, or incarnation of Vishnu in the form of the tortoise, from below the overflowing ocean. 13. I witnessed the great tumult of Suras and Asuras or the Gods and demi-gods, in uprooting and uplifting the Mandara mountain, for churning out the last ambrosia from underneath the ocean for twelve times over. (The meaning of _Samudara manthana_ or churning of the sea, seems to be the refining of the salt water of the deluging sea). 14. Thrice have seen the imposing Hiranyáksha, that levied his tax upon the gods in heaven, hurling the fruitful earth with all her balmy and medicinal plants underneath the ocean. 15. I beheld Hari to have come down six times in the shape of Renuka's son or Parashuráma, and extirpate the Kshetriya race at the intervals of very long periods. 16. I remember, O Sage! the return of a hundred _kaliyuga_ ages, and a hundred incarnations of Hari in the form of Buddha, and as the son of royal Suka or Suddhadana in the land of Kirata. 17. I bear in my remembrance the overthrow of _tripura_ thrice ten times by Siva, and the discomfiture of Dakhas' ceremony for more than once by the irritated Hara; and I recall to my mind the downfall of ten Indras by the offending God, who bears the crescent moon on his forehead (and the confinement of their thunder-bolts within the caverns of volcanoes glass). 18. I recollect the battle that has been fought eight times between Hari and Hara, and the first appearance of Vishnu and Siva, jvaras or the cold typhoid fevers in these conflicts. (This means the rising of the malarious fevers of Dinajpur, which raged among the belligerent forces on both sides). 19. I remember, O silent Sage! the difference in the intellects of men at every succeeding age, and the various readings of vedas at the ceremonial observances of mankind. (This means the varieties of reading of the vedas as pointed in the prati sákha, and the difference of phonetic intonation as shown in the sikshas, have greatly tended to the depravity of vedic recitation, and consequently to their inefficacy in producing their desired consequence also). 20. O sinless saint! The Puránas also though they agree in the main substance, are so full of interpolations, that they have been greatly multiplied in successive ages. (It is quite true of works in manuscript and without their gloss). 21. I remember also many historical works, which have been composed by authors learned in the vedas in the succeeding ages. (These works are called Itihásas or legendary accounts, as the epics of Rámáyana and Mahábhárata by Válmíki and Vyása respectively). 22. I have the recollection of the other wondrous composition of legendary accounts, under the title of the Mahárámáyana a work comprising one hundred thousand slokas or tetrastichs, and replete with sound wisdom. (This was revealed by Brahmá to Vasishtha and Viswámitra). 23. This work presents the conduct of Ráma for the imitation of the men, and sets the misbehaviour of Rávana to the opprobrium of mankind. This precept contains the essence of all wisdom, and serves as the luscious fruit of the tree of knowledge, placed in the palm of all people. (The substance of these instances is, that virtue is true happiness below and vice is bane of life). 24. This work is composed by Válmíki, who will compose some others also in time; and these you will come to know, when they will be presented to world in time (as I have known them before hand by my foreknowledge of things, gloss) (This work is called Vasishtha Ráma samváda in the form of a dialogue as those of Socrates and Plato). 25. This work whether it is a composition of Válmíki, or the composition of some other person, is published for the twelve times, and is now going to be almost forgotten by men. 26. The other work of like importance, is known under the name of Bhárata; I remember it to have been written by Vyása at first, but is becoming obsolete at present. 27. Whether it is the composition of person known by the name of Vyása, or a compilation of some other person, it has up to this time undergone its seventh edition, and is now going fastly to be forgotten. 28. I remember also, O chief of Sages! many tales and novels and other sástras, composed in every age and Yuga; which have been written in a variety of styles and diction. 29. O good sage! I remember to have seen also many new productions and inventions, following one another in succeeding age; and it is impossible to enumerate this innumerable series of things. 30. I remember the Lord Vishnu descending many times on earth, for the destruction of ferocious Ráksasas, and is now to appear here the eleventh time under the appellation of Ráma. 31. I know the lord Hari to have thrice come down in his form of Nrisinha or leonine man, and thrashed the demon Hiranyakasipu as many times, as a lion kills a gigantic elephant. (_i.e._ Although the gods are of smaller forms and figures, yet they got the better of the giants, by means of their better arms and knowledge of warfare). 32. Vishnu is yet to be born in his sixteenth incarnation at Vasudeva's abode, for the purpose of rescuing the earth from the burthen of the oppression of its tyrannic lords and despots. 33. This cosmic phenomenon is no reality, nor it is even in existence; it is but a temporary illusion, and appears as bubble of water to disappear in next moment. 34. This temporary illusion of the phenomenals, rises and sets in the conscious soul of its own accord; as the boisterous billows heave and subside themselves in the bosom of the waters. 35. I have known the world to be sometimes uniform in its course and in the state of things, at others there is a partial difference in their nature and order, and again total change has also been observed to take place in the constitution of things. (Nature is never uniform, but all are subject to change more or less from its original state). 36. I remember the former nature and state of things, and the manner and actions of bygone people and the usages of those times; I saw them give room to others in their turn and those again to be displaced by others. (He that wants an even uniformity to see, expects what never had been, nor ever will be). 37. Every Manwantara or revolution of time; is attended O Brahman! with a reversion in the course of the world; and a new generation is born to supplant the old men of renown. 38. I have then a new set of friends and a new train of relatives; I get a new batch of servants, and a new habitation for my dwelling. 39. I had to remain some times in my solitary retreat by the side of the Vindhyan range, and some times on the ridge of the Sahya Mountain. I had at other times my residence on the Dardura Hills, and so my lodging is ever shifting from one place to another and never fixed in any spot forever. (The Dardura is the Dardue Hill in Afghanistan). 40. I have often been a resident of the Himalayas, and of the Malaya Mountain in the South of India, and then led by destiny as described before, I have found my last abode on this mount of Meru. 41. By getting to it, I built my nest on the branch of an Amra or mango tree, and continued to live there, O chief of the Munis! for ages and time without end. 42. It is by my pristine destiny that this tree has grown here for my residence, therefore, O sage! I can have no release from this body of mine to come to my desirable end. (_i.e._ the soul like a bird is destined by its prior acts, to endless transmigrations in material bodies, which are compared to its habitable trees, and from which it can have no release, although it pines for its dis-embodied liberation, as a decrepit old man wishes to get loose of his loathsome body). 43. It is by appointment of the predestination, that the same tree has grown here in the form of the _kalpa_ arbour, which preserves the beauty even now, as it did at the time when my father Chanda had been living. 44. Being thus pre-ordained by destiny I was settled in this place, when there had been no distinction of the quarters of heaven as the north or east, nor of the sky or mountain. 45. Then the north was on another side, and this Meru was in another place; I was then one and alone, and devoid of any form or body, and was as bright as the essence, which is never shrouded by the darkness of night. 46. After awaking from the insensibility of my trance (at the beginning of another _kalpa_ creation or of my generation), I saw and recognized all the objects of creation (as one comes to see and know the things about him after waking from the forgetfulness of his sleep); and knew the situations of the Meru and other hills and dales from the positions of the stars, and the motions of heavenly bodies. 47. The site of the polar circle of Meru and the course of the planets being changed in different creations, there ensues an alteration of the points of the compass, and a difference in the sides of the quarters; therefore there is nothing as a positive truth, except our conception of it such and such. 48. It is the vibration of the soul, that displays these wonderful conceptions in the mind; and excites the various phenomena in nature. It converts a son to a father and makes a son of the father, and represents a friend as a foe and again shows a foe in the light of a friend. (Hence there is no such thing as a positive certainty, but becomes transmutable to one in opposite nature, as the father supports the child in its youth, and is supported by the boy in his dotage). 49. I remember many men to become effeminate, and many women also to grow quite masculine; and I have seen the good manners of the golden age to prevail in Kali [yuga], and those of Iron-age gaining ground in its preceding ages. 50. I have seen also many men in the Tretá and Dwápara Yugas or the silver and brazen ages of the world, that were ignorant of the Vedas and unacquainted with their precepts; and followed the fictions of their own invention which led them to heterodoxy. 51. I remember also O Brahman! the laxity of manners and morals among the gods, demi gods and men since the beginning of the world. 52. I remember after the lapse of a thousand cycles of the four Yuga ages, that Brahmá created from his mind some aerial beings of unearthly forms; and these spiritual beings occupied a space extending over ten cycles of creations. 53. I remember likewise the varying positions and boundaries of countries, and also the very changing and diversified actions and occupations of their people. I remember too the various costumes and fashions and amusements of men, during the ceaseless course of days and nights in the endless duration of time. CHAPTER XXIII. DESIRE OF TRANQUILLITY AND QUIESCENCE OF THE MIND. Argument.--Relation of the vices and virtues which hasten and prevent death, and the peace and rest of the mind which is sought after by mankind. Vasishtha rejoined:--I then besought the chief of the crows, that was stationed on one end of a branch of the _kalpa_ tree, to tell me how he was not liable to fall into the hands of death, when all other animals moving about the expanse of the world, are doomed to be crushed under its all devouring jaws. 2. Bhusunda replied, You sir, that know all things and would yet ask me to tell that you know full well. Such bidding of my master emboldens your servant to speak out where he should otherwise hold his tongue. 3. Yet when you desire me to tell, I must do it as well as I can, because it is deemed to be the duty of a dependant, to carry out the commands of their kind masters. 4. Death will not demolish the man, who does not wear on his bosom the pearl-necklace of his vicious desires; as a robber does not kill a traveller that has not the pernicious chain of gold hanging on his breast. 5. Death will not destroy the man whose heart is not broken down by sorrows, whose breast is not sawed as a timber by the friction of his sighs, and whose body is not worsted by toil like a tree by canker worms. 6. Death will not overtake the man, whose body is not beset by cares like a tree by poisonous snakes, lifting their hoods above its head; and whose heart is not burnt by its anxieties, like a wood by its enraging fire. 7. Death will not prey upon the person, which is not vitiated by the poison of anger and enmity, and cavity of whose heart does not foster the dragon of avarice in its darkness, and whose heart is not corroded by the canker of cares. 8. He is not carried away by the cruel hand of death, whose body is not already fried by the fire of his resentment, which like hidden heat of the submarine fire, sucks up the waters of reason in the reservoir of the mind. 9. Death will not kill the person whose body is not inflamed by the fiery passion of love; which like the wild fire consumes the hoarded corn of good sense, and as a pair of sharp scissors rives the heart strings of reason. 10. Death doth not approach the man, that puts his trust in the one pure and purifying spirit of God, and hath the rest of his soul in the lap of the supreme soul. 11. Death does not lay hold on the person that is firm and sedate in the same posture and position, and does not ramble like an ape from one tree to another, and whose mind is a foreigner to fickleness. 12. Thus then the mind being settled in unalterable state of calm repose in its Maker, it is no more possible for the evils and diseases of this world, to overtake it at any time. 13. The fixed and tranquil mind, is never overtaken by the sorrows and diseases of the world; nor it is liable to fall into the errors and dangers, which betide the restless mob here below. 14. The well composed mind, hath neither its rising nor setting, nor its recollection nor forgetfulness at any time or other. It has not its sleeping or waking state, but has its heavenly revery which is quite distinct from dreaming. 15. The vexatious thought which take their rise from vitiated desire and feelings of resentment and other passions, and darken the region of the heart and mind, can never disturb the serenity of those souls, which have their repose in the Supreme Spirit. 16. He whose mind is enrapt in holy meditation, neither gives away to nor receives anything from others, nor does he seek or forsake whatever he has or has not at any time. He does his duties always by rote as he ought without expectation of their reward or merit. 17. He whose mind has found its repose in holy meditation, has no cause of his repentance, for doing any misdeed for his gain or pleasure at any time. 18. He has enough of his gain and an excess of his delight and a good deal of every good, whose mind has met with the grace of his God. (He that has the grace of God, has every thing given and added to him). 19. Therefore employ your mind, to what is attended with your ultimate good and lasting welfare; and wherein there is nothing of doubt or difficulty, and which is exempt from false expectation. 20. Exalt your mind above the multiplicities of worldly possessions, which the impure and unseen demon of evil presents for the allurement of your heart, and settle it in the unity of the Divinity. (So did Satan attempt in vain to tempt our Lord to worldly vanities and all its possessions). 21. Set your heart to that supreme felicity which is pleasant both in the beginning and end, and even delectable to taste; that is pleasant to sight, sweet to relish, and is wholesome in its effect. 22. Fix your mind to what is sought by all the good and godly people, which is the eternal truth and the best diet of the soul, from its beginning and during its course in the middle and end and throughout its immortality. 23. Apply your mind to what is beyond your comprehension, which is the holy light, which is the root and source of all, and wherein consists all our best fortune and the ambrosial food for our souls. 24. There is no other thing so very permanent or auspicious among immortals or mortals, and among the gods and demigods, Asuras and Gandharvas, and Kinnaras and Vidyádharas, nor among the heavenly nymphs, as the spiritual bliss of the soul. 25. There is nothing so very graceful or lasting, to be found in cities and mountains and in the vegetable creation, nor among mankind and their king, nor any where in earth or heaven as this spiritual felicity. 26. There is nothing steady or graceful, among the Nága-snake or Asura races and their females, and in the whole circles of infernal region. 27. There is nothing so lovely and lasting in the regions above and below and all around us, and in the spheres of all other worlds, so very graceful and durable as the lasting peace of mind. 28. There is nothing that is felicitous or persistent in this world, amidst all its sorrows and sicknesses and troubles which encompass all about. All our actions are for trivial matters and all our gains are but trifles at best. 29. There is nothing of any lasting good, in all those thoughts which employ the minds of men and gladden their hearts, and which serve at best to delude the sapient to the fickleness of their spirits. 30. No permanent good is derived from the ever busy thoughts and volitions and nolitions of mankind, which tend at best to trouble their minds, as the Mandara mountain disturbed the waters of the deep, at the time of its churning by the gods and demons. 31. No lasting good results to any body from his continuous exertions, and various efforts about his gain and loss even at the edge of the sword (_i.e._, even at the peril of one's life). 32. Neither is the sovereignty of the whole earth so great a boon, nor is one's elevation to the rank of a deity in heaven so great a blessing; nor even is the exaltation of one to the position of the world supporting serpent so great a gain, as the sweet peace of mind of the good. 33. It is of no good to trouble the mind, with its attention to all the branches of learning, nor is it of any advantage to one to employ his wits and enslave his mind to the service of another, nor of any use to any body, to learn the histories of other people, when he is ignorant of himself and his own welfare. 34. It is of no good to live long, under the trouble of disease and the sorrow of life. Neither is life or death, nor learning nor ignorance, nor heaven or hell any advantage or disadvantage to any body, until there is an end of his desires within himself. 35. Thus these various states of the world and all worldly things, may appear gratis to the ignorant vulgar, but they afford no pleasure to the learned who knows their instability. (Hence longevity and stability depend on one's reliance in the eternal God, and not on the transient world). CHAPTER XXIV. INVESTIGATION OF THE LIVING PRINCIPLE. Argument.--Disquisition of the Arteries and organs of the body. The seat of life and its actions. Bhusunda continued:--All things being thus unstable, unprofitable and unpleasant to man, there is one reality only in the view of the wise, which is beyond all error and imperishable, and which though present in all things and all places, transcends the knowledge of all. 2. This essence is the soul or self, and its meditation is the remover of all sorrow and affliction. It is also the destroyer of the erroneous vision of the world, which has passed every man, and biased his understanding by his long habit of thinking this phantom of his dream as a sober reality. 3. Spiritual contemplation dawns in the clear atmosphere of the unpolluted mind, and traverses amidst its whole area like the solar light, and it destroys the darkness of all sorrows and erroneous thought which over spreads it. 4. Divine meditation being unaccompanied by any desire or selfish view, penetrates like the moon-beams through the darkness of the night of ignorance. 5. This spiritual light is easily obtainable by Sages like you, and too difficult to be retained (dháraná) by brutes like ourselves. Because it is beyond all imaginable resemblance, and is known by the ravished Sages as the transcendent light. 6. How can a man of common understanding come to the knowledge of that thing, which is an associate to the clear understanding of the meditative Sage only. 7. There is a little resemblance of this spiritual light, with the intellectual light of philosophers, whose minds are enlightened by the cooling moon-beams of philosophy, as those of the inspired saints are illumed with spiritual light. 8. Among the associates of spiritual knowledge, there is one particularly friendly to me, which alleviates all my sorrows, and advances my prosperity, and this relates to the investigation of the vital breath which is the cause of life. 9. Vasishtha said: After speaking in this manner the Sagely bird Bhusunda held his silence, when I calmly joined my rejoinder, and adduced my question to him by way of amusement, though I was full well acquainted with the subject. 10. I addressed him saying, O thou long living bird, and remover of all my doubts, tell me truly, my good friend, what you mean by meditation of the vital breath (which you say to be the cause of vitality). 11. Bhusunda replied: You sir, who are learned in the knowledge of Vedánta, and sure remover of all doubts in spiritual science, are now by way of joke only, putting this question to me who am but a brute bird and an ignorant crow. 12. Or it may be to sound my shallow knowledge of the subject, and to instruct me the rest in which I am imperfect, that you like to have my answer to the question, wherein I can lay no objection (as no body is unprepared to know more and better of a subject). 13. Hear me, tell you some thing relating to cogitation of vital breath, which has the cause of Bhusunda's longevity and the giver of Bhusunda's spiritual knowledge. 14. You see sir, this beautiful fabric of the body, supported upon the three strong pillars or posts of the three humours; and having nine doorways about it. (The three humours are the bile, phlegm and wind, and the nine openings are the earholes, nostrils, the sockets of the eyes, the mouth). 15. This abode is occupied by its owner or the haughty house holder--Ahankára or egoism, who dwells in it with his favourite consort _Puryashtaká_, and his dependants of the Tanmátras at all times. (These terms have been explained before). 16. You well know the inside of this house which I need not describe, its two ears are as its two upper storied rooms, the two eyes are as its two windows, and the hairs on the head are as its thatched covering on the top of the house. 17. The opening of the mouth is the great door way to the house, the two arms are as its two wings; and the two sets of teeth answer the strings of flowers, which are hung on the gate way for its decoration. 18. The organs of sense are the porters to this house, and convey the sights and sounds, flavours and feelings of things in to it. These are enclosed by the great wall of the body, and the two pupils keep watch on tower of this edifice. 19. The blood, fat and flesh form the plaster of this wall, and the veins and arteries answer the strings to bind the bamboos of the bones together, and the thick bones are the big posts that uphold this fabric. 20. There are two tender nerves called _Idá_ and _Pingalá_, which lie and stretch along the two sides of this building. 21. There are three pairs of lotus like organs formed of soft flesh and bones, and these stretch up and down perpendicularly in the body, and are attached to one stalk like artery connecting them with one another. 22. Then the etherial air which is inhaled through the nostrils, supplies these lotiform organs with moisture, as if it poured water at their roots, and makes them shoot out in soft leaflets, shaking gently at the breath of air, passing incessantly through the lungs and nostrils. 23. The shaking leaves agitate the vital air, as the moving leaves of the trees in the forest, increase the force of the current air in the firmament. 24. The inflated vital air then passes in many ways, through the holes of the entrails inside the body, and extends to and fills all the pores and canals of the frame from top to bottom. 25. These then receive different appellations, according to their course through the several, and are denominated as the five fold vital airs of _prána_, _apána_, _samána_, _udána_, and _vyána_; by them that are skilled in science of pneumatic. (The _prána-váyu_ is the breathing of the nostrils, the _apána_ is the wind in _ano_, _samána_ is the air circulating through the whole body, _udána_ is the air of speech, and the _vyána_ is the air let out through the pores of the whole body). 26. All the vital powers reside in the triple lotiform organ of the heart, and thence extend up and down and on all sides like beams from the lunar disk. 27. These vital powers are employed in passing in and out, in taking in and letting out, in rising and falling, and also in moving throughout the body. 28. The prána or air of life is said by the learned to be situated in the lotus formed organ of the heart, which has also the power of moving the eyelids in their twinklings. (Hence one's life time is measured both by the numbers of his breathings, as also by that of the twinklings of his eye). 29. This power some times assumes the form of touch or the feeling of perception, and at others it takes the shape of breath by blowing through the nostrils. Some times it is seated in the stomach for culinary action, and oft-times it gives utterance to speech. 30. What more shall I say, than that it is our lord--the air, that moves the whole machine of the body, as a mechanic models everything by means of his machinery. 31. Among these there are two principal airs, by name of _prána_ and _apána_, which take their two different courses upward and downward, the one is the breath of life and the other is the vitiated which is let out. 32. It is by watching the course of these airs that I remain quiet at this place, and undergo the vicissitudes of heat and cold, as it is destined to the lot of the feathered tribe. 33. The body is a great machine, and the two airs are its indefatigable mover. It has the sun and moon or the fire and moonlight, shining in the midst of its heart. 34. The body is a city and the mind is its ruler, the two airs are as the car and wheel of the body; while Egoism is the monarch of this city, and the eight members are as so many horses attached to the car of the body. 35. Thus by watching the motion of those airs (_i.e._ of the _prána_ and _apána_--inspiration and expiration for the whole of my lifetime); I find the course of my life to be as interminable, as that of the continuity of my breathings. (The thought of continuity prolongs the course of life). 36. The airs serve the body alike in all its states of waking, dreaming, and sound sleep, and his days glide on imperceptibly who remains in his state of profound sleep. (so the yogi remaining in his trance is utterly insensible of the course of time). 37. These breaths being divided into a thousand threads, according as they pass through the many canals of the body, are as imperceptible as the white fibres passing inside the stalks of lotus plants. 38. By watching the incessant course of vital airs, as also by attending to the continued course of time, and thinking in one self of the interminable course of his respirations, and the moments of time and train of his thoughts, as also by attempting to restrain their course by the habit and practice of _pránáyáma_, that he is sure to lengthen the duration of his life in this world; and attain to his eternal life in the next. CHAPTER XXV. ON SAMÁDHI. Argument.--On the Breathings of Inspiration, Respiration and Expiration, and their rise and fall from and in the spirit of Brahma the origin and end of all. Vasishtha said:--Hear Ráma, when the bird had said so far, I interrupted him and said, tell me, O ancient seer, how and what is the nature of the course of vital airs. 2. Bhusunda replied:--How is it, O sage! that you who know everything, should propose this question to me as if it were in jest, but as you ask this of me, I must tell you all I know about it. 3. The vital breath, O Brahman! is a moving force by its nature, and is always suo motu in its own motion, and pervades both in the inside and outside of bodies which its animates. 4. The _apána_ or the emitting air also is a self motive power, and in its incessant motion; and is both within and without the living body, in its downward or receding direction. 5. It is good for livings being to restrain these vitals breaths both in their waking and sleeping states, and now hear me tell you, O learned sage, how it is to be effected for their best gain. 6. The internal vital air (prána), extends from the lotus-like heart to the crevice in the cranium, its effort to come out (by the mouth and nostrils), is termed by the wise as rechaka or exhaled air. (The expiration coming out of the heart, and reaching the cerebrum is called the rechaka breath). 7. The meeting of breaths at the distance of twelve inches from and below the nostrils, is called the _puraka_ or inhaling-breath. (This is termed the [Sanskrit: váhyapúraka] or external inspiration). 8. It is also called _Puraka_, when the breath passes from without, and enters within the inner _apána_ without any effort, and fills the inside from the heart to the cerebrum. 9. When the apána air has subsided in the heart, and _prána_ breath does not circulate in the breast, it is called the _Kumbhaka_ state, and is known to the yogis only. 10. All these three sorts of breaths, are perceived at the place from where the _apána_ takes its rise, and this is at the distance of twelve inches below on the outside of the tip of the nose. 11. Hear now, O great minded sage! what the clear minded adepts have said, respecting the natures of the ever continuative and effortless. (_i.e._ self respiring) breathings. 12. Know sir, that the air which is inhaled from the distance of twelve inches on the out side of the tip of the nose, the same receives of its own nature the name of puraka or that of another. 13. As the outer part of a pot planted in the earth appears to sight, so the apána breath stretching to the distance of twelve inches just opposite to the tip of the nose in the air on the out side, is perceptible to the yogi, and is called Kumbhaka by the learned. 14. The exhaling air which rises from the heart, and extends to the tip of the nose, is styled the primary and external _puraka_ breath ([Sanskrit: ádyah váhyapúrakam]) by the adepts in Yoga practice. 15. There is another (or secondary) external _puraka_ air known to the wise, which takes its rise from the tip of the nose, and extends to the distance of twelve inches out-side of it. 16. After the prána breath sets out-side the nostrils, and before the apána breath has yet its rise, this interval of the entire abeyance of both, is known as the state of perfect equalization, and termed the external Kumbhaka. 17. The air which breathes out in the heart or pulsates within it, and without the rising of the _apána_ breath; is styled the external _rechaka_ in the Yoga system; and its reflection confers perfect liberation to man. 18. And this rising at the distance of twelve inches, in another kind of it and called the strong _rechaka_. 19. There is another kind of _puraka_, which is on the outside of the _apána_; and when it stretches to the inside of the navel within, it is known under the names of Kumbhaka &c. 20. The intelligent man who meditates by day and night on the octuple nature, and course of the _prána_ and _apána_ or the inhaling and exhaling airs, is not doomed to be reborn any more in this miserable earth. 21. I have thus related to you the various courses of the bodily airs, a restraint of which in the waking and sleeping states of man, as also in his states of sitting and waking, is productive of his liberation. 22. Though these are very fleeting in their natures, yet they are restrained by the good understanding of man, even when he is employed in his work or is in his act of eating. 23. The man that practises the _Kumbhaka_ or suppression of his breathing within himself, cannot be employed in any action; but must remain calmly in this act of suppression, by giving all external thoughts and actions. (_i.e._, as in a state of torpidity). 24. A few days practice of this Yoga, by abnegation of all outward objects from the mind, enables a man to attain to the state of his solity, or his unity with the sole entity of the Deity. 25. Intelligent men have no fondness for worldly things, but bear an aversion to them as a holy Brahmán has against the sweet milk contained in a flask of skin. They remain regardless of visible objects, with his eyes closed against them, as a blind man takes no heed of out-ward appearances. 26. They are in possession of all, which is the sum total (tout ensemble) of what is to be had as the best gain; and whether when they are awake or asleep or walking or sitting, they never lose sight of that true light which leads them to the other world. 27. Those who have obtained the knowledge of the course of his breathings, have got rid of all delusion and rest in quiet within themselves (_i.e._ In watching their inspirations and over-looking the external phenomena). 28. And whether the intelligent people are employed in busy life, or sit inactive at home; they are always quiet and at rest by following the course of their respiration (neither breathing hard or being out breath). 29. I know, O Brahman! the exhaling breath, to rise from its source of the lotus like heart, and stretch to the distance of twelve inches out of it, where it sets or stops. (As is mixed up with the current air). 30. The _apána_ or inhaling breath is taking in from the same distance of twelve inches, and is deposited in the cup of the lotus situated in the human heart. 31. As the _prána_ respiration is exhaled out in the air, to the distance of twelve inches from the heart, so the inhaled air of _apána_ is taken into the breast, from the same distance of the open sky. 32. The _prána_ or exhaling breath runs towards the open air, in the form of a flame of fire, and the inhaled breath turns inward to the region of the heart, and goes downward like a current of water. 33. The apána or inhaled breath is like the cooling moon light, and refreshes the body from without; while prána respiration resembling the sunshine or a flame of fire, warms the inside of the body. 34. The _prána_ breath warms every moment the region of the heart, as the sunshine inflames the region of the sky; and then it torrifies the atmosphere before it, by the exhalation of breath through the mouth. 35. The _apána_ air is as the moonlight before the moon, and being inhaled inward, it washes the sphere of the heart as by a deluge; then it refreshes the whole inside in a moment. 36. When the last digit of the moon-like _apána_ or inhaling breath, is swallowed by the sun of the _prána_ or exhaling breath; it meets with the sight of supreme spirit, and has no more any cause of affliction. 37. So also when the last portion of the sunlike _prána_ or exhaling breath, is swallowed by the moon-like _apána_ or inhaling breath; then there ensues the same visitation of Brahmá in the inside, and the soul is emancipated from further transmigration in this world. (The meeting of the two is a _yoga_ or junction of the human and Divine spirits). 38. The _prána_ or exhaling breath assumes the nature of the solar heat, both in the inside and outside of the body; and afterwards it becomes and remains as the cooling moonlight. (It is the one and same breath of air, that takes the two names, according to its two different natures of inspiration and expiration. gloss). 39. The _prána_ expiration forsakes its nature of the cooling moon, and turns in a moment to assume the nature of the hot sun, that dries and sucks up everything before it. 40. As long as the _prána_ exhalation is not converted to the nature of the moon, after forsaking its solarity, it is so long considered as unconditioned by time and place, and freed from pain and grief. (The _prána_ being peculiarised by time, place and number, is long or short and subject to misery; but its extinction in the interval, is instinct with the supreme spirit. Patanjali Yoga sutra II 50). 41. He who sees the seat of his soul in the mind situated within his heart, and at the confluence of the sol-luni _prána_ and _apána_ breathings in the Kumbhaka or retained breath, is no more subjected to be reborn and die. 41_a_. He who feels the sun and moon of his _prána_ and _apána_ breaths, ever rising and setting in the _kumbhaka_ or retained breath with his heart, verily sees the seat of his mind and soul placed at their confluence, and is freed from further birth and death. (The plain meaning is that, the mind and soul consist in the air deposited in the heart by the two inhaling and exhaling breaths of _prána_ and _apána_). 42. He verily sees the soul in its full light, who beholds this bright sun [Sanskrit: prána] shining in the sphere of his heart, in conjunction with the rising and setting moon beams _apána_ in his mind. 43. This light never fades nor grows faint at any time, but dispels the darkness of the heart, and produces the consummation--_Siddhi_ of the meditative mind. 44. As the dispersion of outward darkness presents the world to view, so the disappearance of inward obscurity gives out the light of the spirit before the mental sight. 45. The removal of intellectual darkness, produces the liberation of the soul, and shows the rising and setting sun of the vital breath vividly to view. 46. When the moon of the _apána_ or inspired breath, sets in the cavity of the heart, the sun of the _prána_ or expiratory breathing, rises immediately to gush out of the same. 47. The _apána_ or inhaling breath having set in the cell of the lotus like heart, the exhaling breath of _prána_ rises at the very moment to come out of it, as the shadow of the night being dispersed from sight, the bright sun of the day ushers his light. 48. As the _prána_ expiration expires in the open air, the inhaling breath rises and rushes in a moment; just as the light having fled from the horizon, is succeeded immediately by deep darkness. 49. Know ye intelligent men, that the _apána_ breath becomes extinct, where the _prána_ comes to be born; and the _prána_ respiration is lost, where the _apána_ takes its rise. 50. When the _prána_ breathing has ceased and the _apána_ has its rise, it is then that one supports himself upon the Kumbhaka retained air, and does not depend on two other passing breaths. 51. On the extinction of _apána_, and the rise of the _prána_ breath, one relying on the Kumbhaka air which is deposited within himself, is exempted from his pain and sorrow. 52. By depending on the _rechaka_ breath, and practicing the suppression of Kumbhaka breath, at the great distance of sixteen inches from the _apána_; a man has no more to be sorry for any thing. 53. By making the _apána_ a receptacle of _rechaka_, and filling the _prána_ in the inside, and finding himself filled with the _puraka_ all within his body, a man has no more to be born on earth. 54. When a man finds the perfect tranquillity of his soul, by subsidence of both the _prána_ and _apána_ within himself; he has no longer to sorrow for any thing whatever. 55. When a man reflects his _prána_ breath to be devoured by the _apána_ air both within as well as without himself, and loses his thoughts of time and space, he has no more any cause for sorrow. 56. He who sees his _prána_ breath devouring the _apána_ air, both within and without himself, together with his sense of space and time, has no more his mind to be reborn on earth. 57. When the _prána_ is swallowed up by the _apána_, or the _apána_ by the _prána_, both in the in-side and out-side of the adept; together with his thoughts of time and place; 58. At this moment the Yogi finds his _prána_ to set down, and his _apána_ to rise no more, and the interval between the two, is common to all animals though it is known to Yogis alone. 59. The Kumbhaka taking place of itself on the out-side, is known as the divine state, but when it happens to occur in the in-side, and without any efforts on the part of the adept, it is said to be the state of the most supreme. (Because God does not breathe). 60. This is the nature of the divine soul, and this is the state of the supreme intellect, this is the representation of the eternal spirit, and one attaining to this state, is never subject to sorrow. 61. Like fragrance in the flower, there is an essence indwelling within the vital breath also, and this is neither the _prána_ nor _apána_, but the intellectual soul which I adore. (As the true God). 62. As taste indwells in the water, so is there an essence immanent in the _apána_; and this is neither the _apána_ nor the not _apána_, but the intelligent soul which I adore. 63. There is at the end of the extinction of _prána_, and beyond the limit of the exhaustion of _apána_, and situated in the interval between the extremities of both of these, which I ever adore. 64. That which forms the breathing of breath, and is the life of life, what is the support and bearer of the body, is the intellectual spirit which I ever adore. 65. That which causes the thinking (_power_) of the mind, and the cogitation of the understanding; as also the egotism of egoism, is the intellectual soul, which I have learnt to adore. 66. That which contains and produces all things, which is all (or permeated in all things, as every thing is (evolved from) itself; and what is changed to all at all times, is that mind which I adore for ever.) 67. What is the light of lights, what is holiness and the holy of holies, and what is unchangeable in its nature, is the intellect which I adore. 68. I adore that pencil of pure intellectual light, which rises at the juncture of the setting of the _apána_ and springing up of the _prána_ breath. (This sloka occurs in the Kashmere Mss). 68_a_. I adore that intellect which trolls on the tip of the nose, at the point where the _prána_ sets in, and the _apána_ has not yet taken its rise. 69. I adore the intellect which rises at the time when both the _prána_ and _apána_ breaths have stopped, and when neither of them has taken its rise. 70. I adore that intellect which appears before the Yogi, and supports him at the point which he has reached unto upon the setting of the _prána_ and _apána_ breaths, both within and without himself. 71. I adore that intellect which is force of all forces, and rides in the car of _prána_ and _apána_ breaths, and when both of them are compressed in the heart of the yogi. 72. I adore the lord intellect, which is the Kumbhaka breath in the heart, and the _apána_ Kumbhaka on the outside; and a part of the _puraka_ left behind. 73. I adore the essence of that intellect, which is attainable by reflection of the breathings, and which is the formless cause of our intelligence of the natures of the _prána_ and _apána_ breaths, as also the motive principle of their actions. 74. I adore the essence of that intellect, which is the cause of the causes, and the main spring of the oscillations of vital airs, and giver of the felicity derived from the vibrations of breath. 75. I adore that prime and supreme Being Brahma, who is worshipped by the gods bowing down before him, who makes himself known to us by his own power, and who is, by the particles of vital breaths, under the name of Spirit. CHAPTER XXVI. RELATION OF THE CAUSE OF LONGEVITY. Argument.--Reflection and Restraint of Respiration leading to the tranquillity of the soul, and the steadiness of the _spirit_, conducing to long life and felicity on earth. Bhusunda continued. This is the tranquillity of the mind, which I have attained by degrees, by means of my meditation of the nature and course of the vital breath in myself. 2. I sit quiet at all times, with view fixed at the movement of my breath; and never stir a moment from my meditative mood, though the mount Meru may shake under me. 3. Whether I am awake or asleep, or move about or remain unmoved in my seat, I am never at a loss of this meditation even in dream, nor does it slide a moment from my steadfast mind. (For who can ever live without breathing, or be unconscious of its ceaseless course, or that the breath is both the cause and measure of life). 4. I am always calm and quiet and ever steady and sedate, in this ever varying and unsteady world; I remain always with my face turned inward in myself, and fixed firmly in the object I have at heart. (This is the soul--the life of the life situated in the heart). 5. The breeze may cease to blow, and the waters may stop to flow but nothing can prevent my breathing and meditation of them, nor do I remember ever to live without them. (The gloss explains by metonymy the air to mean the planetary sphere, which rests and moves in it, the _waters_ as the ever flowing [Sanskrit: váyu] currents of rivers, and the _samádhi_ [Sanskrit: jyotichakraha] meditation as composed of breath and thought, to be in continuous motion and resistless in their course). 6. By attending to the course of my inhaling and exhaling breaths of life, I have come to the sight of the soul (which is their life), and have thereby become freed from sorrow by seeing the prime soul of all souls. (_i.e._ The highest soul of God). 7. The earth has been sinking and rising repeatedly, since the great deluge, and I have been witnessing the submersion and immersion of things, and the perdition and reproduction of beings, without any change of the sedateness of my soul and mind. 8. I never think of the past and future, my sight is fixed only on the present, and my mind sees the remote past and future as ever present before it. (Meditation makes a man a seer of all time). 9. I am employed in the business that presents itself to me, and never care for their toil nor care for their reward. I live as one in sleep and solely with myself. (This is the state of Kaivalya or solity). 10. I examine all what is and is not, and what we have or have not, and consider likewise all our desires and their objects; and finding them to be but frailties and vanities, I refrain from their pursuit and remain unvexed by their cares for ever. 11. I watch the course of my inspiration and expiration, and behold the presence of the super excellent (Brahma) at their confluence; whereby I rest satisfied in myself, and enjoy my long life without any sorrow or sickness. 12. This boon have I gained this day, and that better one shall I have on another, are the ruinous thoughts of mortal men, and unknown to me whereby I have so long living and unailing. 13. I never praise or dispraise any act of myself or others, and this indifference of mine to all concerns; hath brought me to this happy state of careless longevity. (Platonic imperturbability). 14. My mind is neither elated by success, nor it is depressed by adversity, but preserves its equanimity at all times, and is what has brought this happy state on me. (A sane and sound old age). 15. I have resorted to my religious relinquishment of the world, and to my apathy to all things at all times; I have also abandoned the desire of sensuous life and sensible objects, and these have set me free from death and disease. 16. I have freed my mind, O great muni! from its faults of fickleness and curiosity, and have set it above sorrow and anxiety, it has become deliberate calm and quiet, and this has made me longlived and unsickly. 17. I see all things in an equal light, whether it be a beauty or a spectre, a piece of wood or stone, a straw or a rock, or whether it is the air, water or fire, and it is this equanimity of mine that has made me sane and sound in every state of life. 18. I do not think about what I have done today, and what I shall have to do tomorrow, nor do I ail under the fever of vain thoughts regarding the past and future, and this has kept me forever sound and sane. 19. I am neither afraid of death, disease or old age, nor am I elated with the idea of getting a kingdom in my possession; and this indifference of mine to aught of good or evil, is the cause of my length of my life and the soundness of my body and mind. 20. I do not regard, O Brahman! any one either in the light of a friend or foe to me; and this equality of my knowledge of all persons, is the cause of my long life and want of my complaint. 21. I regard all existence as the reflexion of the self-existent one, who is all in all and without his beginning and end; I know myself as the very intellect, and this is the cause of my diuturnity and want of disease and decay. 22. Whether when I get or give away any thing, or when I walk or sit, or rise and breathe, or am asleep or awake; I never think myself as the gross body but its pure intelligence, and this made me diuturnal and durable for ever. (The intelligent soul never dies). 23. I think myself as quite asleep, and believe this world with all its bustle to be nothing in reality (but the false appearance of a dream); and this has made me long-lived and undecaying. 24. I take the good and bad accidents of life, occurring at their stated times, to be all alike to me, like my two arms both of which are serviceable to me; and has made me longeval and imperishable. 25. With my fixed attention, and the cool clearness of my mental vision, I see all things in their favourable light (that they are all good, and adapted to their various uses); I see all things as even and equal, and this view of them in the same light, has made me lasting and wasteless. (So says the Bharata: "All crookedness leads to death, and evenness to the one even Brahma"). 26. This material body of mine to which I bear my moiety, is never viewed by me in the light of my ego; and this has made me undying and undecaying. (The deathless soul is the ego, and the dying body the non-ego). 27. Whatever I do and take to my food, I never take them to my heart; my mind is freed from the acts of my body, and this freedom of myself from action, has caused my undecaying longevity. (Because action being the measure of life, its want must make it measureless and imperishable). 28. Whenever, O Sage, I come to know the truth, I never feel proud of my knowledge, but desire to learn more about it; and this increasing desire of knowledge, has increased my life without its concomitant infirmity. (Knowledge is unlimited, and one needs be immortal in order to know all). 29. Though possessed of power, I never use it to do wrong or injure to another; and though wronged by any one, I am never sorry for the same; and though ever so poor, I never crave any thing of any body; this hath prolonged my life and kept me safe and sound. (It is the Christian charity not to retaliate an injury, but rather to turn to him the right cheek who has slapped on the left). 30. I see in these visible forms the intellect that abides all bodies, and as I behold all these existent bodies in an equal light, I enjoy an undecaying longevity. 31. I am so composed in my mind, that I never allow its faculties, to be entangled in the snare of worldly desires and expectations; nor do I allow these to touch even my heart, and this conferred on me the bliss of my unfading longevity. 32. I examine both worlds as two globes placed in my hands, and I find the non-existence of the visible world as it appears to a sleeping man; while the spiritual and invisible world appear full open to my view, as it does to a waking person, and this sight of mine has made me as immortal as the world of immortality. 33. I behold the past, present and future as set before me; and I see all that is dead and decayed, and all that is gone and forgotten, as presented anew in my presence. This prospect of all keeps me alive and afresh to them alike. 34. I feel myself happy at the happiness of others, and am sorry to see the misery of other people; and this universal fellow feeling of mine with the weal and woe of my fellow creatures, has kept me alive and afresh at all times. 35. I remain unmoved as a rock in my adversity, and am friendly to every one in my prosperity; I am never moved by want or affluence, and this steadiness of mine is the cause of my undecayed longevity. 36. That I am neither related to nor belong to any body, nor that any one is either related or belongeth to me; is the firm conviction that has laid hold of my mind, and made me live long without feeling sick or sorry for another. 37. It is my belief that I am the one Ego with the world, and with all its space and time also, and that I am the same with the living soul and all its actions; and this faith of mine has made me longeval and undecaying. 38. It is my belief that I am the same Intelligence, which shows itself in the pot and picture; and which dwells in the sky above and in the woods below. That all this is full of intelligence is my firm reliance, and this has made me long abiding and free from decay. 39. It is thus, O great sage! that I reside amidst the receptacle of the three worlds, as a bee abides in the cell of a lotus flower, and am renowned in the world as the perennial crow Bhusunda by name. 40. I am destined to dwell here forever in order to behold the visible world, rising and falling in tumultuous confusion, in the infinite ocean of the immense Brahma, and assuming their various forms like the waves of the sea at their alternate rise and fall for all eternity. CHAPTER XXVII. CONCLUSION OF THE NARRATIVE OF BHUSUNDA. Argument.--Vasishtha's praise of Bhusunda, and his homage to the sage, Whose return to Heaven through the midway-sky is described at length. Bhusunda added:--I have thus far related to you, O sage! what I am and how I am situated at this place. It was by your behest only, that I was lead to the arrogance of speaking so far to one of superior intelligence. 2. Vasishtha replied:--O sir, it is a wondrous relation that you have given of yourself; O excellent! it is a jewel to my ears and fills me with admiration. (It beggars description, and is _mirabile dictu_). 3. Blessed are those eminent souls (great men), that have the good fortune to behold your most venerable person, which in respect of antiquity is next to none, expect the great grandfather of the gods the lotus born Brahmá himself. 4. Blest are my eyes, that are blessed this day with the sight of your holy person, and thrice blest are my ears that are filled with the full recital of your sacred knowledge and all purifying sermon. 5. I have in my peregrinations all about the world, witnessed the dignity and grandeur of the great knowledge of gods and learned men; but have never come to see any where, so holy a seer as yourself. 6. It may be possible by long travel and search, to meet with a great soul some where or other; but it is hard to find a holy soul like yourself any where. (Man may be very learned and wise as a sapient (savant), but never so holy and godly as a saint). 7. We rarely come to find the grain of a precious pearl in the hollow of a lonely bamboo tree, but it is rarer still to come across a holy personage, like yourself in any part of this world. 8. I have verily achieved an act of great piety, and of sanctity also at the same time; that I have paid a visit to your holy shrine, and seen your sacred person and liberated soul this very day. 9. Now please to enter your cell, and fare you well in this place; it is now the time of midday devotion, and the duties of my noontide service, call my presence to my heavenly seat. 10. Hearing this Bhusunda rose from his arborescent seat, and held out a golden twig of the tree with his two fictitious hands. (Holy persons have the power to add to the members of their bodies). 11. The accomplished (lit. full knowing) crow made a vessel with his beak and hands, and filled it with the snow-white leaves, and flowers and pistils of the Kalpa plant, and put a brilliant pearl in it to be offered as an honorarium--_arghya_ worthy of the divine sage. 12. The prime-born (ancient) bird, then took the arghya with some water and flowers; and sprinkled and scattered them over me even from my head to foot, in as great a veneration, as when they adore the three eyed god Siva. 13. Then said I, it is enough, and you need not take the pains to walk after me (in token of your respect). So saying I rose from my seat and made a lift, as when a bird puts to its wings for its aerial flight. (_Bishtára_--a seat, means also a bedding like the Persian _bistar_ and Urdu _bistara_ derived from the root _strí_ to spread). 14. Yet the bird followed me a few miles (yojana) in the air, when I hindered his proceeding farther by compelling him to return after shaking our hands. (The custom of shaking hands both on meeting and parting; is mentioned to have been in fashion with the ancients). 15. The chief of birds looked up for some time, as I soared upward in my ethereal journey, and then he returned with reluctance, because it is difficult to part from the company of the good (or of good people). 16. Then both of us lost the sight of one another in the intermediate air, as the sight of the waves is lost after they sink down in the sea; and I full with the thoughts of the bird and his sayings, proceeded upward to meet the munis there. I arrived at last at the sphere of the Pleiades, where I was honorably received by Arundhatí my wife. 17. It was in the beginning of the golden age (satya yuga) before, and after two hundred years of it had passed away that I had been at Bhusunda's, and sat with him upon the tree on the summit of Sumeru. 18. Now, O Ráma! that golden age has gone by, and the Tretá or silver age has taken its place; and it is now the middle of this age, that thou art born to subdue thy enemies. 19. It is now only eight years past that (or the eight years since) I met with him again on the same mountain, and found him as sound and same as I had seen him long before. 20. Now I have related unto you the whole of the exemplary character of Bhusunda; and as you have heard it with patience, so should you consider it with diligence, and act according to his sayings. (In order to be as longlived as he). 21. Válmíki says:--The man of pure heart, that considers well the narrative of the virtuous Bhusunda, will undoubtedly pass over the unstable gulf of this world, which is full of formidable dangers on all sides. CHAPTER XXVIII. LECTURE ON THEOPATHY OR SPIRITUAL MEDITATION. Argument.--Learning from examples and parables. Falsity of phenomenal and reliance in the noumenal. Vasishtha said:--I have thus far related to you, O sinless Ráma! the narrative of Bhusunda; who had passed over the perilous sea of delusion, by means of his intelligence and wisdom. 2. Keeping this instance in view, and following his practice of pránáyáma or regulation of breath; you will also, O mighty armed Ráma! pass over the wide ocean of this hazardous ocean. 3. As Bhusunda has obtained the obtainable one, by means of his knowledge and by virtue of his continued practice of yoga; so do you strive to gain the same by imitation of his example. 4. Men of uninfatuated understanding may attain the stability of Bhusunda, and their reliance in the transcendental truth like him by their attending to the practice of _pránáyáma_ or restraining of their breath. 5. Thus you have heard me relate to you many things, relating to true knowledge; it now depends on your own understanding to do as you may like to choose for yourself. (Either to betake yourself to spiritual knowledge or the practice of _pránáyáma_ or either as the gloss explains it, either to esoteric contemplation yoga or exoteric adoration _upasana_). 6. Ráma replied:--you sir, that are the luminous sun of spiritual light on earth, have dispelled the thick gloom of unspiritual knowledge from my mind at once (by transcendental light of your holy lectures). 7. I am fully awake to and joyous in my divine knowledge, and have entered into my state of spirituality; I have known the knowable, and am seated in my divine state like yourself. 8. O the wondrous memoir of Bhusunda that you have narrated! It fills me with admiration, and is fraught with the best instruction. (Lit. it is instructive of the highest wisdom). 9. In the account that you have given of Bhusunda, you have said that the body is the abode of the soul, and is composed of flesh and blood, and of the inner bones and outer skin (as its materials and plaster). 10. Please tell me sir, who made this fabric and how it came to be formed; how it is made to last, and who abides therein. 11. Vasishtha answered: Listen now Ráma, to what I will relate to you for the instruction of the supreme knowledge, as also for removal of the evils which have taken root instead of true knowledge. 12. This dwelling of the body, Ráma! which has the bones for its posts, and the blood and flesh for its mortar, and the nine holes for so many windows, is built by no one: (but is formed of itself). 13. It is a mere reflection, and reflects itself so to our vision; as the appearance of two moons in the sky by illusion, is both real as well as unreal. (This vedantic doctrine is opposed to the popular faith of the creatorship of God). 14. It may be right to speak of two moons from their double appearance to our sight, but in reality there is but one moon and the other its reflection. (So are all phenomenal bodies but reflections of the noumenal). 15. The belief of the existence of body makes it a reality, the unreal seems as real, and therefore it is said to be both real and unreal at the same time. (The perception is real but the object of perception an unreality. Just so the perception of a snake in the rope may be true, though the snake in the rope is quite untrue). 16. Any thing seen in a dream is true as a dream, and appears to be so in the state of dreaming, but afterwards it proves to be untrue, so a bubble of water is true as a bubble, which comes to be known afterwards to be false in reality. (So all things appearing to be true to sight, vanish into nothing when they are judged aright, and even a judge may deem a thing as just, which upon further and right investigation is known as unjust). 17. The body seems to be substantiality in the doing of bodily actions, but it proves otherwise when we view the essentiality of the spirit only; so the reflection of the sun on the sandy desert, makes the mirage appear as water, whose reality proves to be unreal the next moment: (so it is of the body). 18. The body existing as a reflexion disappears the next moment. It is no more than a reflexion, and so it reflects itself. 19. It is your error to think that you are the material body which is made of flesh and bones. It is the inward thought of your mind that is situated in the body, and makes you to think yourself as so and so and such a one. (The reminiscence of the mind of its former body, causes to think itself as an embodied being, in all its repeated transmigrations. Gloss). 20. Forsake therefore the body that you build for yourself at your own will, and be not like them, who while they are asleep on their pleasant beds, deport themselves to various countries with their dreaming bodies: (which are all false and unreal). 21. See, O Ráma! how you deport yourself to the kingdom of heaven even in your waking state, in the fanciful reverie of your mind; say then where is your body situated. (It neither accompanies the mind to heaven, nor is it on earth being unperceived and unaccompanied by the mind). 22. Say Ráma, where is your body situated, when your mind wanders on the Meru in your dream, and when you dream to ramble with your body about the skirts of this earth. 23. Think Ráma, how you seem to saunter about the rich domains (of the gods) in the fancied kingdom of your mind, and tell me whether you are then and there accompanied with your body, or is it left behind. 24. Tell me, where is that body of yours situated; when you think of doing many of your bodily and worldly acts without your body, in the fancied realm of your mind. 25. Tell me, O strong armed Ráma! where are those members of your body situated; with which you think to coquette and caress your loving courtezans in the court of your painful mind. 26. Where is that body of yours, with which you seem to enjoy anything; the enjoyment belongs to the mind and not to the body, and both of them are real as well as unreal, owing to their presence at one time and absence at another. 27. The body and the mind are known to be present with coeval with their actions, and they participate with one another in their mutual acts (without which they are said to be inexistent). Therefore it is erroneous to say that, I am this body and am situated here, and these things are mine, all which are illusory and caused by illusion. (Egoism and meity are illusive ideas). 28. All this is the manifestation of the will or energy of the mind, and you must know it either as a long dream or lengthened fallacy of the mind. 29. Know this world, O son of Raghu's race, to be a display of the vast kingdom of your imagination, and will vanish into nothing, when you will come to your good understanding by the grace of your God. 30. You will then see the whole as clearly as in the light of the rising sun, and know this world to be like a creation of your dream or volition. (_i.e._ as you wish to have a thing for yourself). 31. So is this world a display of the will of the lotus-born Brahmá, as I have said before in length in the book of creation. 32. There rises of itself a willful creation within the mind, and out of its own accord as if it were so ordained by destiny; and the mind being fully possest of the great variety of forms, is lost at last into the error of taking them for true. 33. It is a creation of the will only and a display of it in the same manner, as the fancied chimera of Brahmanship had possessed the minds of the sons of Indu. (See the narrative of Indu's sons in the upasama Prakarana). 34. After the soul has passed from its former frame, it receives the same form which it has in view before it after the fancy of the mind, which is either of the kind, to which it has been long used and accustomed, or what it fondly longs in the mind. 35. The body shows itself in the form as it is shaped by the prior acts of a person, and is also convertible to the intellect by the manly exertions of some: (whose corporeal bodies may become intellectual beings, as some persons have mere brutal, while others are highly intellectual). 36. He that thinks himself as another, is transformed to the nature of that air (as it is the pattern that moulds a thing after its own model): and the thought that you are this or that, and have this thing or others for yourself, is what actually makes you so in this world. (The metamorphose of the natures and forms of things and persons to other kinds in Ovid, were all owing to their tendencies and inclinations towards them). 37. Whatever is thought upon keenly and firmly, the same comes to take place accordingly; and whatever is thought of with intense and great force of thought, the same must occur in a short time: (so are all things done to which we set our minds). 38. We see every day the objects of our desire, presenting their fair forms to our view, like the comely faces of our beloved ones present before our sight, in the same manner as the sights in a dream and distant objects, are recalled to the mind of men; with their closed and half-shut eyes. (This is the doctrine of reminiscence which reproduces our long remembered bodies to us). 39. This world is said to be a creation of the thoughts of men, and appears to sight from habitual reflection of it, in the same manner as the sights in a dream, appear to the mind of a man in the day time. 40. The temporary world appears to be as lasting, as the river which appears in the sky under the burning sunshine. (Though in fact both of them are equally evanescent). 41. This inexistent earth also appears as existent in our cogitation, as there appears bundles of peacock's feathers in the sky to the vitiated or purblind eye. 42. It is only the vitiated understanding that dwells upon the beauties of creation, as the vitiated eye sight looks upon the various tinges in the sky. But to the clear sighted understanding the one is as evanescent, as the other is to the clear sighted eye. 43. The sharp sighted man is never led away by the display of worldly grandeur, as even the most timid man is never afraid of a tiger in his imagination. 43a. This great show of worldly grandeur can never mislead the penetrating sight of the wise, as a monstrous creature of imagination cannot terrify even the most timid. (Because the one knows the falsity of the show as well as the other does that of imaginary monster). 44. The wise man is never afraid of his imaginary world, which he knows to be the production of his own mind, from its nature of self-evolution _bahir mukhata_. (The mind is naturally possessed of both its power of self involution in the interior soul, as also that of its evolving itself in the form of the exterior world). 45. He that has stood in the path of this world, needs not fear for any thing in it, and he that is afraid of it for fear of falling into its errors, should learn to purify his understanding from all its dross and impurity. (Stretch your mind, and the world will appear to light, curb it in yourself and every thing will disappear from view). 46. Know Ráma, that the soul is free from the erroneous conception of the world, and from the errors which pervade all over it. Look well into these things, and you will have a nature as pure as your inward soul. 47. The soul is not soiled by impurity, as a pure gold is not spoiled by dirt; and though it may sometimes appear to be tarnished as copper, yet it soon resumes its colour after its dirt is cleansed or burnt away. Thus the world being a reflexion of the omnipresent Brahma, is neither an entity nor a nonentity of its own nature. 48. Thus the abandonment of all other thoughts, besides that of the universal soul or Brahma, is called the true discernment of the mind; which derives the thoughts of life and death, heaven and hell into nothing, and proves all knowledge to be ignorance alone. 49. The knowledge of the nullity of everything, except its being a reflexion of the Intellect, is called the individuality and right discernment of the mind, which removes the thought of the separate and independent existence of the ego and tu, and also of this world and its ten sides: (_i.e._ of the subjective as well as the objective). 50. That all things are but reflexions of the soul, is what is known as the true and right discernment of the mind; and is derived from its observation of true nature of things in this real and unreal world. (The real is the spiritualistic view of the world, and the unreal is illusory phenomenal appearance). 51. That nothing rises or sets or appears or disappears in this world, is what the mind perceives by its right discernment of things; and by its investigation into the true and apparent natures of all. (In their true light all things are in a state of continued revolution, and nothing rises anew to view or disappears into nothing). 52. Right discernment gives the mind its peace and tranquillity, and its freedom from all desires; and makes it indifferent to joy and grief, and callous to all praise and censure. 53. The mind comes to find this truth as the cooling balsam of the heart, that we are all doomed to die one day or other, with all our friends and relations in this world of mortality. 54. Why therefore should we lament at the demise of our friends, when it is certain that we must die one day sooner or later (and without the certainty of when or where). 55. Thus when we are destined to die ourselves also, without having any power in us to prevent the same; why then should we be sorry for others when we can never prevent also. 56. It is certain that any one who has come to be born herein, must have some state and property for his supportance here; but what is the cause of rejoicing in it (when neither our lives nor their means are lasting for ever). 57. All men dealing in worldly affairs, gain wealth with toil and pain for their trouble and danger only; what is the reason therefore for pining at its want, or repining at its loss. 58. These spheres of worlds enlarge, expand and rise to our view, like bubbles of water in the sea which swell and float and shine for a time, and then burst and subside in the water of eternity. 59. The nature of reality (the entity of Brahma), is real at all times, and the condition of the unreal world is unsubstantial for ever, and can never be otherwise or real, though it may? appear as such for a time. Why then sorrow for what is nil and unreal. 60. I am not of this body nor was I in it, nor shall I remain in it; nor is it any thing, even at present, except a picture of the imagination. Why then lament at its loss. 61. If I am something else beside this body, that is a reflexion of the pure intellect; then tell me of what avail are these states of reality and unreality to me, and wherefore shall I rejoice or regret. 62. The Sage who is fully conscious of the certainty of this truth in himself, does not feel any rise or fall of his spirits at his life or death, nor doth he rejoice or wail at either in having or losing his life. 63. Because he gains after the loss of his gross body, his residence in the transcendental state of Brahma or spiritual existence; as the little bird _tittera_ builds its nest of tender blades, after its grassy habitation is broken down or blown away. 64. Therefore we should never rely in our frail and fragile bodies, but bind our souls to the firm rock of Brahma by the strong rope of our faith, as they bind a bull to the post with a strong cord. 65. Having thus ascertained the certitude of this truth, rely thy faith on the reality of thy spiritual essence, and by giving up thy reliance on thy frail body, manage thyself with indifference in this unreal world. 66. Adhere to what is thy duty here, and avoid whatever is prohibited to thee; and thus proceed in thy course with an even tenor of thy mind, without minding at all about thy reliance on the one and miscreance of the other. 67. He gets a cool composure of his mind; like the coolness at the close of a hot summer-day, who shuts out from his view the reflexions of all worldly objects. 68. Look on this universe, O sinless Ráma, as one common display of Divine light, like the appearance of day light which is common to all; it is the mind which taints it with various forms, as the sun-beams are reflected in sundry piece by objects. 69. Therefore forsake all reflexions, and be without any impression in thy mind, be of the form of pure intellectual light, which passes through all without being contaminated by any. 70. You will be quite stainless by your dismissal of all taints and appearances from your mind, and by your thinking yourself as nothing and having no true enjoyment in this world. 71. That these phenomena are nothing in reality, but they show themselves unto us for our delusion only; and that yourself also are nothing will appear to you, by your thinking the whole as a display of the Divine Intellect. 72. Again the thought that these phenomena are not false, nor do they lead to our illusion since they are the manifestation of the supreme Intellect, is also very true and leads to your consummation. 73. It is well Ráma, and for your good also if you know either of these; because both of these views will tend equally to your felicity. 74. Conduct yourself in this manner, O blessed Ráma! and lessen gradually all your affection and dislike to this world and all worldly things. (_i.e._ Neither love nor hate aught at any time). 75. Whatever there exists in this earth, sky and heaven, is all obtainable by you, by means of the relinquishment of your eager desire and hatred. 76. Whatever a man endeavours to do, with his mind freed from his fondness for or hatred to it, the same comes shortly, to take place, contrary to the attempts of the ignorant: (whose excessive desire and dislike turn to their disadvantage). 77. No good quality can have its abode in the heart that is troubled by the waves of faults; as no stag will set its foot on the ground, heated by burning sands and wild fires. 78. What acquisitions does he not make, in whose heart there grows the kalpa tree of desire, and which is not infested by the snakes of ardent desire or dislike (the two cankers of human breast). 79. Those men who are wise and discreet, learned and attentive to their duties, and at the same time influenced by the feelings of love and hatred, are no better than jackals (or jack asses) in human shape, and are accursed with all their qualifications. 80. Look at the effects of these passions in men, who repine both at the use of their wealth by others, as also in leaving their hard earned money behind them. (This proceeds from excessive love of wealth on the one hand, and hatred of family and heirs on the other as is said [Sanskrit: putrádapi ghanabhajam bháti], the monied miser, dislikes even his son). 81. All our riches, relatives and friends, are as transitory as the passing winds: why then should a wise man rejoice or repine at their gain or loss. 82. All our gains and wants and enjoyments in life, are mere illusion or máyá, which is spread as a net by Divine power, all over the works of creation, and entraps all the worldlings in it. 83. There is no wealth, nor any person, that is real or lasting to any one in this temporary world; it is all frail and fleeting, and stretched out as a false magic show to sight. 84. What wise man is there that will place his attachment on anything, which is an unreality both in its beginning and end, and is quite unsteady in the midst. No one has any faith in the arbour of his imagination or aerial castle. 85. As one fancies he sees a fairy in a passing cloud, and is pleased with the sight of what he can never enjoy, but passes from his view to the sight of distant peoples; so is this passing world, which passes from the sight of some to that of others, without its being fully enjoyed or long retained in the possession of any one. (The passing world passes from hand to hand, without its standing still at any one's command). 86. The bustle of these fleeting bodies in the world, resembles the commotion of an aerial castle, and the appearance of a city in an evanescent dream and fancy. 87. I see the world as a city in my protracted dream, with all its movables and immovable things, lying as quiet and still as in profound sleep. 88. Ráma, you are wandering in this world, as one rolling in his bed of indolence, and lulled to the long sleep of ignorance; which lends you from one error to another, as if dragged by a chain of continuous dreaming. 89. Now Ráma, break off your long chain of indolent ignorance, forsake the idol of your errors, and lay hold on the inestimable gem of your spiritual and divine knowledge. 90. Return to your right understanding, and behold your soul in its clear light as a manifestation of the unchangeable luminary of the Intellect; in the same manner as the unfolding lotus beholds the rising sun. 91. I exhort you repeatedly, O Ráma! to wake from your drowsiness, and by remaining ever wakeful to your spiritual concerns; see the undecaying and undeclining sun of your soul at all times. 92. I have roused you from your indolent repose, and awakened you to the light of your understanding, by the cooling breeze of spiritual knowledge, and the refreshing showers of my elegant diction. 93. Delay not Ráma, to enlighten your understanding even now, and attain your highest wisdom in the knowledge of the supreme being, to come to the light of truth and shun the errors of the delusive world. 94. You will not be subject to any more birth or pain, nor will you be exposed to any error or evil, if you will but remain steady in your soul, by forsaking all your worldly desires. 95. Remain steadfast, O high minded Ráma, in your trust in the tranquil and all soul of Brahma, for attainment of the purity and holiness of your own soul, and you will thereby be freed from the snare of your earthly desires, and get a clear sight of that true reality, wherein you will rest in perfect security, as were in profound sleep. CHAPTER XXIX. PANTHEISM. or DESCRIPTION OF THE WORLD AS FULL WITH THE SUPREME SOUL. Argument.--Elucidation of the same subject, and further Instruction to Ráma. Válmíki relates:--Hearing this discourse of the sage, Ráma remained sedate with the coma (sama) of his mind, his spirits were tranquil, and his soul was full of rapture. 2. The whole audience also that was present at the place, being all quiet, calm and silent (comatose-upasánta), the sage withheld his speech for fear of disturbing their spiritual repose: (which converted them to stock and stone). 3. The sage stopped from distilling the drops of his ambrosial speech any more, after the hearts of the audience were lulled to rest by their draughts, as the clouds cease to rain drops, having penetrated into the hearts of ripened grains. 4. As Ráma (with the rest of the assembly) came to be rose from their torpor after a while; the eloquent Vasishtha resumed his discourse in elucidation of his former lecture. (On spirituality). 5. Vasishtha said:--Ráma! you are now fully awakened to light, and have come to and obtained the knowledge of thyself; remain hence forward fixed to the only true object, wherein you must rely your faith, and never set your feet on the field of the false phenomenal world. 6. The wheel of the world is continually revolving round the centre of desire, put a peg to its axis, and it will stop from turning about its pole. 7. If you be slack to fasten the nave (nábhi) of your mind, by your manly efforts (purushártha; it will be hard for you to stop the wheel of the world, which runs faster as you slacken your mind.) 8. Exert your manly strength (courage), with the aid of your mental powers and wisdom, stop the motion of your heart, which is the centre of the wheeling course of the world. 9. Know, that everything is obtainable by means of manly exertion, joined with good sense and good nature, and assisted by a knowledge of the sástras; and whatever is not obtained by these, is to be had nowhere by any other. 10. Relinquish your reliance on destiny which is a coinage of puerile imagination; and by relying on your own exertions, govern your heart and mind for your lasting good. 11. The unsubstantial mind which appears as a substantiality, has had its rise since the creation of Brahmá; and taken a wrong and erroneous course of its own. (The human understanding is frail from first to beginning, it is a power, and no positive reality). 12. The unreal and erroneous mind, weaves and stretches out a lengthening web of its equally unreal and false conceptions, which it is led afterwards to mistake for the substantial world. 13. All these bodies that are seen to move about us, are the products of the fancies and fond desires of the mind; and though these frail and false bodies cease to exist forever, yet the mind and its wishes are imperishable; and either show themselves in their reproduction in various forms, or they become altogether extinct in their total absorption in the supreme spirit. (The doctrine of eternal ideas, is the source of their perpetual appearance in various forms about bodies). 14. The wise man must not understand the pain or pleasure of the soul from the physiognomy of man, that a sorrowful and weeping countenance is the indication of pain; and a clear (cheerful) and tearless face is the sign of pleasure. (Because it is the mind which moulds the face in any form it likes). 15. You see a man in two ways, the one with his body and the other in his representation in a picture or statues, of these the former kind is more frail than the latter; because the embodied man is beset by troubles and diseases in his fading and mouldering, decaying and dying body, whereby the other is not. (The frame of the living man, is frailer than his dead resemblance). 16. The fleshy body is assuredly doomed to die, notwithstanding all our efforts for its preservation; but a body in the portrait being taken good care of, lasts for ages with its undiminished beauty. 17. As the living body is sure to die in despite of all your care for it, the pictured body must be deemed far better, than the false and fancied fleshy body, produced by will of the mind (sankalpa deha). 18. The quality and stability which abide in a pictured body, are not to be found in the body of the mind; wherefore the living body of flesh, is more insignificant than its semblance in a picture or statue. 19. Think now, O sinless Ráma, what reliance is there in this body of flesh; which is a production of your long fostered desire, and a creature of your brain (Your mind makes it seem as such). 20. This body of flesh is more contemptible than those ideal forms, which our dreams and desires produce in our sleeping and waking states; because the creature of a momentary desire, is never attended with a long or lasting happiness or misery. (Because the products of the variable will, are of short duration, and so are their pains and pleasures also). 21. The bodies that are produced by our long desire, continue for a longer time, and are subjected to a longer series of miseries in this world. (So it is said, a "long life is a long term of woes and calamities"). 22. The body is a creature of our fancy, and is neither a reality or unreality in itself; and yet are the ignorant people fondly attached to it, for the prolongation of their misery only. 23. As the destruction of the portrait of a man, does no harm to his person; and as the loss of a fancied city is no loss to the city, so the loss of the much desired body of any one, is no loss to his personality in any wise. 24. Again as the dis-appearance of the secondary moon (halo), is no deprivation of the primary satellite (moon), and as the evanescence of the visionary world, is no annihilation of the external world. (So there is no loss of the soul, as the loss of the shadow, is no loss of the substance). 25. As the dis-appearance of water in the sunny banks of rivers, is no deprivation of the river's water; so the creations of fancy which are not negative in their nature, cannot be destructive of what is positive, nor any damage done to the machine of the body, can ever injure the dis-embodied soul. 26. The body is a piece of work wrought by the architect of the mind, in its dreaming somnambulation over the sleeping world; wherefore its decoration or disfigurement, is of no essential advantage or dis-advantage to inward soul. 27. There is no end of the Intellect in its extent, nor any motion of the soul from its place; there is no change in the Divine spirit of Brahma, nor do any of these decay with the decline of the body. 28. As the inner and smaller wheel, makes the outer and larger wheel to turn about it, so the inner _annulus_ of the mind, sees in its delirium spheres over spheres revolving in empty air. 29. The mind views by its primitive and causeless error, the constant rotation of bodies both in the inside and out side of it; and some as moving forward and others as falling down, and many as dropped below. 30. Seeing the rise and fall of these rotatory bodies, the wise man must rely on the firmness of his mind, and not himself to be led away by these rotations in repeated succession. 31. Fancy forms the body and it is error that makes the unreal appear as real; but the formation of fancy, and the fabrications of untruth, cannot have any truth or reality in them. 32. The unreal body appearing as real, is like the appearance of a snake in a rope; and so are all the affairs of the world quite untrue and false, and appearing as true for the time being. 33. Whatever is done by an insensible being, is never accounted as its action (or doing); hence all what is done by the senseless bodies (of man), is not recounted as done by it. (But by the impulse of the actuating mind). 34. It is the will which is the active agent of its actions, and this being so, neither the inactive body nor the unchanging soul is the actor of any action. (The soul being the witness of the bodily actions done by the impelling mind. gloss). 35. The inert body being without any effort, is never the doer of any act, which is desired by its presiding soul; it is only a viewer of the soul, which witnesses it also. (The body is attendant or dependant to the soul, as the other is a resident in it, they are both devoid of action, and unstained by those done by the will of the mind). 36. As the lamp burns unshaken and with its unflickering flame, in the breathless air and in itself only; so doth the silent and steady soul dwell as a witness, in all things and of all acts existing and going on in the world. (So doth the human soul abide and inflame itself in the body, unless it is shaken and moved by the airy mind). 37. As the celestial and luminous orb of the day, regulates the daily works of the living world from his seat on high, so do you, O Ráma, administer the affairs of thy state from thy elevated seat on the royal throne. 38. The knowledge of one's entity or egoism, in the unsubstantial abode of his body, is like the sight of a spirit by boys in the empty space of a house or in empty air. (The substantiality of the unsubstantial body, is as false as the corporeality of an incorporeal spirit). 39. Whence comes this unsubstantial egoism in the manner of an inane ghost, and takes possession of the inner body under the name of the mind, is what the learned are at a loss to explain. 40. Never enslave yourself, O wise Ráma! to this spectre of your egoism, which like the _ignis fatuus_ leads you with limbo lake or bog of hell. (The sense of one's personality is the cause of his responsibility). 41. The mad and giddy mind, accompanied with its capricious desires and whims, plays its foolish pranks in its abode of the body, like a hideous demon dancing in a dreary desert. 42. The demoniac mind having made its way, into the hollow heart of the human body; plays its fantastic parts in so odd a manner, that wise men shut their eyes against the sight, and sit in their silent contemplation of the secluded soul. (It is good to fly from the fields, where fools make a prominent figure). 43. After the demon of the mind, is driven out of the abode of the body, there is no more any fear for any one to dwell in it in peace; as no body is afraid of living in a deserted and desolate city. 44. It is astonishing that men should place any reliance in their bodies, and consider them as their own, when they had had thousands of such bodies in their repeated births before, and when they were invariably infested by the demon of the mind. 45. They that die in the grasp and under the clutches of the cannibal of the mind, have their minds like those of the pisácha cannibals in their future births, and never of any other kind of being. (The will ever accompanies a man, in all his future states). 46. The body which is taken possession of by the demon of egoism, is being consumed by the burning fires of the triple afflictions; occurring from local, natural and accidental evils, and is not to be relied upon as a safe and lasting abode of any body. 47. Do you therefore desist to dance your attendance on, and follow the dictates of your egoism (or selfishness). Be of an extended and elevated mind, and by forgetting your egotism in your magnanimity, rely only on the supreme spirit. 48. Those hellish people that are seized and possessed by the devils of Egotism, are blinded in their self-delusion and giddiness; and are unbefriended by their fellows and friends, as they are unfriendly to others in this world. (Egotism is explained in its double sense of selfishness and pride, both of which are hated and shunned by men as they hate and shun others). 49. Whatever action is done by one bewitched by egoism in his mind, the same grows up as a poisonous plant, and produces the fatal fruit of death. (The fruits are mutual quarrels, enmity and the like). 50. The ignorant man that is elated by his egoistic pride, is lost both to his reason and patience; and one who is attached to the former by his neglect of the latter, is to be known as approaching fast to his perdition. (Pride goes before destruction). 51. The simpleton that is seized by the devil of Egoism, is made as fuel to the fire of hell (where he is doomed to burn with ceaseless torment). 52. When the snake of Egoism hisses hard in the hollow heart of the tree of the body, it is sure to be cut down by the inexorable hand of death, who fells the noxious tree like a wood cutter to the ground. 53. O Ráma! that are the greatest among the great, never look at the demon of egoism, whether it may reside in your body or not; because the very look of it, is sure to delude any one. 54. If you disregard deride or drive away the demon of egoism, from the recess of your mind, there is no damage or danger, that it can ever bring upon you in any wise. 55. Ráma! what though the demon of Egoism, may play all its freaks in its abode of the body, it can in no way affect the soul which is quite aloof of it. (Egoism contaminates the mind, and cannot touch the soul that contemns it). 56. Egoism brings a great many evils, upon them that have their minds vitiated by its influence, and it requires hundreds of years, to count and recount their baneful effects. 57. Know Ráma, that it is the despotic power of egoism, that makes men to groan under its thraldom, and incessantly uttering the piteous exclamations, "Oh! we are dying and burning and such other bitter cries." 58. The soul is ubiquitous and free to rove every where, without its having any connection with the ego of any body; just as the ubiquity of the all pervading sky, is unconnected with every thing in the world. 59. Whatever is done or taken in by the body, in its connection with the airy thread of life; know Ráma, all this to be the doing of egoism, which empties and impels the body to all its various actions. 60. Know thus quiescent soul impels also, to be the cause of all the exertions of the mind or mental operations, as the inactive vacuum is the material cause of the growth of trees. (_i.e._ the circumambient air affords room for the expansion of the plant). 61. It is owing to the presence of the soul, that the mind developes itself in the form of the body and all its members; as it is the presence of the light, that makes the room display its contained objects to sight. (The soul is the light of the mind--nous the container of infinite ideas). 62. Think now Ráma, on the relation between the ever unconnected soul and mind, to resemble the irrelation subsisting between the dis-connected earth and sky, and betwixt light and darkness and betwixt the intellect and gross bodies. 63. Those that are ignorant of the soul, view the quiet mind as such, after its motion and fluctuation are stopped by the restraint of respiration--Pránáyáma. (This is the doctrine of the Sánkhya and Buddhist, that view the becalmed and quiescent mind as the soul). 64. But the soul is self-luminous and ever lasting, omnipresent and super-eminent, while the mind is deceptive and egoism. It is situated in the heart with too much of its pride and vanity. 65. You are in reality the all-knowing soul, and not the ignorant and deluded mind; therefore drive afar your delusive mind from the seat of the soul, as they can never meet nor agree together. 66. Ráma! the mind has also like a demon, taken possession of the empty house of the body, and has like an evil spirit, silenced and overpowered upon the intangible soul in it. 67. Whatever thou art, remain but quiet in thyself, by driving away the demon of thy mind from thee; because it robs thee of thy best treasure of patience, and loads all kinds of evils upon thee. (_i.e._ the impatient mind is the source of all evil). 68. The man that is seized by the voracious yaksha of his own mind, has no change of his release from his grasp, either by the lessons of the sástras or by the advice of his friends, relatives and preceptors. (Greediness devours the greedy that desire to glut all things). 69. The man who has appeased the demon of his mind, is capable of being released from its clutches, by means of the dictates of sástras, and the admonitions of his friends, as it is possible to liberate a deer from a shallow quagmire. 70. All things that are seen to be stored in this vacant city, of the vacuous world, are all of them polluted by the lickerishness of the mind, licking at them from inside the house of its body. 71. Say who is not afraid in this dreary wilderness of the world, which is infested in every corner of it by the demoniac mind. (The rapacity of the ambitious, converts the fair creation to a scene of horror). 72. There are some wise men in this city of the world, who enjoy the abodes of their bodies in peace, having tranquilized the demon of their minds in them. (A peaceful mind makes a peaceful abode). 73. Ráma! All the countries that we hear of in any part of the world, are found to be full of senseless bodies, in which the giddy demon of delusion are Raving (and Ranging) as the sepulchral grounds. (The bodies of ignorant people, are as sepulchres of dead bodies. gloss). 74. Let people rely on their patience, and redeem their souls by their own exertions; which are otherwise seen to be wandering about in the forest of this world, like lost and stray boys: (that know not how to return to their homes). 75. Men are wandering in this world, as herds of stags are roving in burning deserts; but take care Ráma, never to live contented with a grazing on the sapless grass, like a young and helpless deer. 76. Foolish men are seen to graze as young stags, in their pastures amidst the wilderness of this world; but you Ráma must stir yourself to kill the great Elephant of Ignorance, and pursue the leonine course of subduing every thing in your way. 77. Do not allow yourself, O Ráma, to ramble about like other men, who wander like senseless beasts in their native forests of the Jambudwípa. 78. Do not plunge yourself like the foolish buffets, in the bog of your relatives and friends; it appears to you as a cold bath for a while, but daubs you with its mud and mire afterwards. (The circle of relatives may appear as a limpid lake at first; but dive in it, and you will be daubed with its dirt afterwards). 79. Drive afar your desire of bodily enjoyments from you, and follow the steps of respectable men; and having well considered thy sole object of the soul (from the great sayings of the sástras), attend to thyself or soul only. (Consider the objective soul in thy subjective self). 80. It is not proper that you should plunge yourself, into a sea of intolerable cares and troubles, for the sake of your impure and frail body, which is but a trifle in comparison with the inestimable soul. 81. The body which is the production of one thing (_i.e._ the product of past deeds), and is possessed by another (_i.e._ the demon of egoism); which puts another one (_i.e._ the mind) to the pain of its supportance, and affords its enjoyment to a fourth one (_i.e._ the living soul), as a complicate machinery of many powers to the ignorant. (The human frame is a mechanism of the body and mind, its egoism and living principle). 82. As solidity is the only property of the stone, so the soul has the single property of its entity alone; and its existence being common in all objects, it is impossible for any thing else to subsist beside it. (The soul being the only _ens_, it is of its nature the all in all; the minds etc. being but its attributes). 83. As thickness is the property of stone, so are the mind and others but properties of the soul; and there being nothing which is distinct from the common entity of the soul, it is impossible for any thing to have a separate existence. 84. As density relates to the stone, and dimension bears its relation to the pot; so the mind and other are not distinct from one common existence of the soul: (which pervades and constitutes the whole). 85. Hear now of another view of spiritual light, for dispelling the darkness of delusion; as it was revealed to me of yore, in a cavern of mount Kailása. (The former seat of my devotion). 86. There is a mountain peak, bright as the collected mass of moon-beams, and penetrating the vault of heaven, where the god with the semi-circular moon on his fore-head, delivered this doctrine to me for appeasing the miseries of the world. 87. This mountain peak is famed by the name of Kailása, on which the god Hara--the consort of Gouri, wearing the crescent moon on his head, holds his residence. 88. It was to worship this great god, that I had once dwelt on that mountain long ago; and constructed my hermit-cell on the bank of the holy stream of Ganges. (Which ran down by its side). 89. I remained there in the practice of ascetic austereties, for the performance of my holy devotion; and was beset by bodies of adepts, dis-coursing on subjects of the sacred sástras. 90. I made baskets for filling them with flowers for my worship, and for keeping the collection of my books in them; and was employed in such other sacred tasks, in the forest groves of the Kailása mountain. 91. While thus I had been passing my time, in discharging the austereties of my devotion; it happened to turn out once on the eighth day of the dark side of the moon of the month of _srávana_. 92. And after its evening twilight was over, and the sun light had faded in the face of the four quarters of the sky, that all objects became invisible to sight, and stood rapt in their saint like silence. 93. It was then after half of the first watch of the night had fled away, there spread a thick darkness over the groves and wood lands, and required a sharp sword to sever it. (Asich' hedyá tami-srá-tenebra ensis encesibelia). 94. My intense meditation was broken at this instant, and my trance gave way to the sight of outward objects, which I kept looking upon for sometime; when I observed a flaming fire suddenly rising in the forest to my view. 95. It was as bright as a big white cloud, and as brilliant as the shining orb of the moon; It illumed the groves on all sides, and struck with amazement at the vision. 96. As I viewed it by the sight of my understanding, or the mental vision which was glowing in my mind; I came to see the god Siva with the crescent of the moon on his fore-head, standing on the table land and manifest to view. 97. With his hand clasping the hand of Gaurí, he was led on ward by his brace attendant Nandí walking before him; when I after informing my pupils about it, proceeded forward with the due honorarium in my hand. 98. Led by the sight, I came to the presence of the god with a gladsome mind; and then I offered handfuls of flowers to the three eyed-god from a distance, in token of my reverence to him. 99. After giving the honor (Arghya), which was worthy of him, I bowed down before the god, and accosted him; when he cast his kind look upon me, from his moon-bright and clear sighted eyes. 100. Being blest by his benign look, which took away all my pain and sin from me; I did my homage to the god that was seated on the flowery level land, and viewed the three worlds lying open before him. 101. Then advancing forward, I offered unto him the honorarium, flowers and water that I had with me, and scattered before him heaps of mandára flowers, that grew there abouts. 102. I then worshipped the god with repeated obeisances and various eulogiums; and next adored the goddess Gaurí with the same kind of homage together with her attendant goddesses and demigods. 103. After my adoration was over, the god having the crescent moon on his head, spoke to me that was seated by him, with his speech as mild as the cooling beams of the full-moon. 104. Say O Bráhman, whether thy affections are at peace within thyself, and have found their rest in supreme spirit, and whether your felicitous feelings are settled in the true object of divine essence. 105. Whether your devotion is spading unobstructed by the demons of your passions, and whether felicity attends on you. 106. Have you obtained the obtainable one, that is alone to be obtained, and are you set above the fears, that incessantly hunt after all mankind? 107. After the Lord of gods and the sole cause of all created beings, had spoken in this manner; I replied to him submissively in the following words. 108. O Lord! there is nothing unattainable, nor is there anything to be feared by any one, who remembers the three eyed god at all times in his mind; and whose hearts are filled with rapture by their constant remembrance of thee. 109. There is no one in the womb of this world, in any country or quarter, or in the mountains or forests, that does not bow down his head before thee. 110. Those whose minds are entirely devoted to their remembrance of thee, get the rewards of the meritorious acts of their past lives; and water the trees of their present lives, in order to produce their manifold fruit in future births and lives. 111. Lord! thy remembrance expands the seed of our desire, thou art the jar of the nectar of our knowledge, and thou art the reservoir of patience, as the moon is the receptacle of cooling beams. 112. Thy remembrance, Lord! is the gate way to the city of salvation, and it is thy remembrance which I deem as the invaluable gem of my thoughts. 113. O Lord of creation! thy remembrance sets its foot on the head of all our calamities (_i.e._ tramples over them). (Because Siva is called Sankara for his doing good to all, by removal of their misfortunes). 114. I said thus far, and then bowing down lowly before the complacent deity, I addressed him, O Ráma, in the manner as you shall hear from me. 115. Lord! it is by thy favour that I have the fulness of my heart's content on every side; yet as there is one doubt lurking in my mind, I will request thee to explain it fully to me. 116. Say with your clear understanding, and without hesitation and weariness, regarding the manner of the adoration of gods, which removes all our sins and confers all good unto us. (The query was quite appropriate as the Tantras of Siva treat principally of such formularies). 117. The god replied:--Hear me, O Brahman, that art best acquainted with the knowledge of Brahma; tell you about the best mode of worshipping the gods, and the performance of which is sure to set the worshipper free. (From the bonds of the world all at once). 118. Tell me first, O great armed Brahman, if you know at all who is that god, whom you make the object of your worship, if it be not the lotus-eyed Vishnu or the three-eyed Siva neither. 119. It is not the god born of the lotus Brahmá, nor he who is the lord of the thirteen classes of god--the great Indra himself; it is not the god of winds--Pavana, nor the god of fire, nor the regents of the sun and moon. 120. The Brahman (called an earthly god _bhudeva_) is no god at all, nor the king called the shadow of god, is any god likewise, neither I or thou--the ego and tu (or the subjective self and objective unself) are gods; nor the body or any embodied being, or the mind or any conception or creation of the mind is the true god also. 121. Neither Laxmí the goddess of fortune, nor Sarasvatí the goddess of intelligence are true goddesses, nor is there any one that may be called a god, except the one unfictitious god, who is without beginning and end, that is the true god. (The Viswasaratantra of Siva treats of the one infinite and eternal God). 122. How can a body measured by a form and its dimensions, or having a definite measure be the immeasurable deity! it is the inartificial and unlimited Intellect, that is known as the Siva or the felicitous one. 123. It is that which is meant by the word God--Deva--Deus, and that is the object of adoration; that is the only _ens_ or _on_, _est_ or Esteor Esten, out of which all other beings have proceeded, and in which they have their existence, and wherein they subsist with their formal parts. 124. Those unacquainted with the true nature of the felicitous Siva, worship the formal idols and images; as a weary traveller thinks the distance of a mile, to be as long as the length of a league. 125. It is possible to have the reward of one's adoration of the Rudras and other gods; but the reward of the meditation of the true God, is the unbounded felicity of the soul. 126. He who forsakes the reward of true felicity, for that of fictitious pleasures; is like one who quits a garden of mandara flower, and repairs to a furze of thorny _karanja_ plants. 127. The true worshippers know the purely intellectual and felicitous Siva, to be the only adorable god; to whom the understanding and tranquillity and equanimity of the soul are, the most acceptable offerings than wreaths of flowers. 128. Know that to be the true worship of God, when the Deity of the spirit (or spiritual Divinity), is worshipped with the flowers of the understanding and tranquillity of the spirit. (Worship God in spirit and with the contriteness of thy spirit). 129. The soul is of the form of consciousness (and is to be worshipped as such), by forsaking the adoration of idols; Those that are devoted to any form of fictitious cult, are subject to endless misery. 130. Those knowing the knowable one are called as saints; but those who slighting the meditation of the soul, betake themselves to the adoration of idols, are said to liken little boys playing with their dolls. 131. The Lord Siva is the spiritual god, and the supreme cause of all; He is to be worshipped always and without fail, with the understanding only. (So the sruti: The vipras adore him in their knowledge, but others worship him with sacrifices &c.) 132. You should know the soul as the intellectual and living spirit, undecaying as the very nature herself; there is no other that is to be worshipped, the true puja is the worship of the spirit. (God is to be worshipped in spirit only). 133. Vasishtha said:--The soul being of the nature of intellectual void, as this world is an empty void also; please tell me, my lord, how the Intellect could become the living soul etc., as you have declared. 134. The god replied:--There being an only vacuous Intellect in existence, which is beyond all limit; it is impossible for an intelligible object to exist anywhere which may continue to all eternity. (The subjective only is self-existent, and the objective is a nullity; it being impossible for two self-existent things to co-exist together). 135. That which shines of itself, is the self-shining Being; and it is the self or spontaneous agitation of that Being, which has stretched out the universe. 136. Thus the world appears as a city in dream before the intellectual soul, and this soul is only a form of the inane intellect, and this world is but a baseless fabric. 137. It is altogether impossible for aught of the thinkables and visibles, to exist anywhere except in the empty sphere of the intellect, and whatever shone forth in the beginning in the plenitude of the Divine intellect, the same is called its creation or the world from the first. 138. Therefore this world which shows itself in the form of a fairy land in dream, is only an appearance in the empty sphere of the intellect; and cannot be any other in reality. 139. The Intellect is the human speech, and the firmament that supports the world; the intellect becomes the soul and the living principle, and it is this which forms the chain of created beings. (The seeming appearances being null and void; the Intellect is all and everything). 140. Tell me, what other thing is there that could know all things in the beginning and before creation of the universe, except it were the Intellect which saw and exhibited everything, in heaven and earth as contained in itself. 141. The words sky, firmament, and the vacuum of Brahma and the world, are all applicable to the Intellect, as the words arbour and tree are but synonymous expressions for the same thing. 142. And as both our dreams and desires arise in us by our delusion, so it is our illusion only which makes us perceive the existence of the outer world; in the empty space of the intellect. 143. And as it is our empty consciousness, that shows the sight of the external world in our dream; so it is that very thing that shows us the same, in the waking dream of ourselves. 144. As it is not possible for the city in a dream, to be represented any where except in the hollow space of our intellect; so it is impossible for the waking dream of the world, to be shown elsewhere except in the emptiness of the same. 145. As it is not possible for any thing that is thinkable to exist any where except in the thinking mind, so it is impossible for this thinkable world to exist any other place beside the divine mind. 146. The triple world rose of itself at the will and in the empty space of the supreme Intellect, as it was a dream rising and setting in the self same mind, and not as any thing other than it, or a duality beside itself. 147. As one sees the diverse appearances of _ghatas_ and _patas_, pots and painting in his dream, and all lying within the hollowness of his mind; so the world appears of itself, in the vacuity of the Divine Intellect, at the beginning of creation. 147_a_. As there is no substantiality of anything in the fairy land of one's dream, except his pure consciousness of the objects; so there is no substantiality of the things which are seen in this triple world, except our consciousness of them. 148. What ever is visible to sight, and all that is existent and inexistent, in the three times of the present, past and future; and all space, time and mind, are no other than appearances of vacuous intellect (of Brahma). 149. He is verily the god of whom I have told you, who is supreme in the highest degree (lit. in its transcendental sense). Who is all and unbounded and includes me, thee and the endless world in Himself. 150. The bodies of all created beings, of thine, mine, and others, and of all in this world, are all full with the intellectuality of the supreme soul and no other. 151. As there is nothing, O sage, except the bodies that are produced from the vacuous intellect or intellectual vacuity of Brahma, and resembling the images produced in the fairy land of one's dream; so there is no form or figure in this world, other than what was made in the beginning of creation. CHAPTER XXX. INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE OF THE INTELLECT. Argument.--Description of the Pervasion and Supervision of the Intellect; and its transformation into the mind in living beings. Or Intellect as universal soul and mind of living beings. The god said:--Thus the Intellect is all this plenum, it is the sole supreme soul (of all); it is Brahma the Immense and the transcendent vacuum, and it said to be the supreme god. 2. Therefore its worship is of the greatest good, and confers all blessings to men; it is source of creation, and all this world is situated on it. (The Divine Mind or omniscience). 3. It is unmade and increate, and without its beginning and end; it is boundless and without a second, it is to be served without external service (_i.e._ by spiritual adoration), and all felicity is obtained thereby. (Hence Solomon's choice of Wisdom). 4. You are enlightened, O chief of sages! and there I tell you this; that the worship of gods is not worthy to the wise, and offering of flowers and frankincense is of no use to them. 5. Those who are unlearned, and have their minds as simple as those of boys; are the persons that are mostly addicted to false worship, and devoted to the adoration of gods. 6. These being devoid of the quietness of their understandings, are led to ceremonious observances, and to the false attribution of a soul, to the images of their own making. 7. It is for boys only to remain contented with their act of offering flowers and incense to gods, whom they honour in the modes of worship, which they have adopted of their own hobby-choice. 8. It is in vain that men worship the gods for gaining the objects of their desire, for nothing that is false of itself; can ever give the required fruit. 9. Adoration with flowers and incense, is inculcated to childish understandings (and not for the wise). I will tell you now, the worship that is worthy of men enlightened like yourself. 10. Know, O most intelligent sage, that the god whom we adore is the true god, who is the receptacle of the three worlds, the supreme spirit and no other. 11. He is Siva--the felicity, who is above the ranks of all other gods, and beyond all fictions and fictitious images of men; He is accompanied with all desires (will or volition), and is neither the enjoyer of all or any part of the production of his will. He is full with the imaginations of all things, but is neither the all or any one of the objects in his mind. 12. He encompasses all space and time, and is neither divided nor circumscribed by either of them. He is the manifester of all events and things, and is nothing except the image of pure Intellect Himself. 13. He is consciousness without parts, and situated in the heart of every thing. He is the producer of every thing, and their absorber also in himself. 14. Know Brahma to be situated between existence and inexistence and it is He who styled the God, the supreme soul, the transcendental, the Tat sat--Id Est, and the syllable Om--on or ens. 15. By his nature of immensity, he spreads alike in all space, and being the great Intellect himself, he is said to be transcendent and supreme being. 16. He remains as all in all places, as the sap circulates through the bodies of plants; thus the great soul of the supreme being, extends alike as the common entity of all things. 17. It is He who abides in the heart of your spouse Arundhatí as in yours, the same also dwells in the heart of Párvatí as in those of her attendants. 18. That intellection which is one and in every one in all the three worlds is verily the god, by the best knowing among philosophers: (that god is the universal mind). 19. Tell me O Brahman! how they may be called as gods, who having their hands and feet, are yet devoid of their consciousness; which is the pith of the body. (This is said of idols and images). 20. The Intellect is the pith and marrow of the world, and contains the sap which it supplies to every thing in it. It is the _one and all--ego-sarvam_ and therefore all things are obtained from it. (The god Siva is also called the all _to pan-sarva_ and Ego, that is I am the universal ego and giver of all gifts to all). 21. He is not situated at a distance, O Bráhman! nor is He unobtainable by any body; He resides always in all bodies, and abides alike in all places, as also in all empty space and sky. (This omnipresence of the divine spirit, sets aside the belief of a _swarga_-heaven or _bihesht_ as the special seat of God). 22. He does, he eats, he supports all, and moves every where; He breathes and feels and knows every member of the body. (This is according to the sruti; He fills and directs every part of the body to the end of the nails-ánakhágrat. [Sanskrit: puryyámáste | sa eva pravishta ánakhágrebhyah]). 23. Know him, O chief of sages! to be seated in the city of the body; and directing the various functions that are manifest by it, under his direct appointment. 24. He is the lord of the cavity of the heart, and the several hidden sheaths--_Koshas_, which are contained within the cavity of the body; which is made by his moving abodes and moves as he pleases to move it. 25. The immaculate soul is beyond the essence and actions of the mind, and the six organs of sense; it is for our use and understanding only, the word chit--intellect is applied to him. 26. That intellectual spirit is too minute and subtile, immaculate and all-pervading; and it is his option and volition, to manifest this visible representation of himself or not. 27. This intellect is too fine and pure, and yet manages the whole machinery for beautifying the world, as the subtle and intelligent season of spring, beautifies the vegetable world with freshness and moisture. 28. The beautiful and wonderous properties that reside in the divine Intellect, are astonishing to behold in their display into the various form as the sky. 29. Some of these take the name of the living soul, and some others assume the title of the mind; some take the general name of space, and others are known as its parts and divisions. (These are but parts of one stupendous whole &c. Popes Moral Essays). 30. Some of these pass under the name of substance, and others of their action; and some under the different categories of mode and condition, genus, species and adjuncts. 31. Some of them shine as light, and others stand as mountains and hills; some brighten as the sun and moon and the gods above, and others are as the dark yakshas below. 32. All these continue in their own states, without any option on their parts; and they evolve of their own nature, and causation of the divine spirit, as the sprouts of trees grow of their own accord, under the influence of the vernal spring (season). 33. It is the intellect alone which extends over all the works of nature, and fills all bodies which overspread the vast ocean of the world, as the aquatic plants swim over the surface of waters. 34. The deluded mind wanders like a roving bee, and collects the sweets of its desire from the lotus of the body, and the intellect sitting as its Mistress, relishes their essence from within. (Spiritual substances can taste the essence of sweets. Milton). 35. The world with all the gods and gandharvas, and the seas and hills that are situated in it; rolls about in the circuit of the Intellect, as the waters whirl in a whirlpool. 36. Human minds resembling the spokes of a wheel, are bound to the axles of their worldly affairs; and turn about in the rotatory wheel of the ever revolving world, within the circumference of the Intellect. 37. It was the Intellect which in the form of the four-armed Vishnu, destroys the whole host of the demoniac asuras; as the rainy season dispels the solar heat, with its thundering clouds and rainbows. 38. It is the Intellect, which in the form of the three-eyed Siva, accompanied by his ensigns of the bull and the crescent of the moon, continues to dote like a fond bee, on the lotus-like lovely face of Gaurí (his consort). 39. It was the intellect which was born as a bee in the lotus-like navel of Vishnu in the form of Brahmá, and was settled in his meditation upon the lotus of the triple vedas; (revealed to the sage afterwards). 40. In this manner the Intellect appears in various forms, like the unnumbered leaves of trees, and the different kind of ornaments made of the same metal of gold. 41. The Intellect assumes of its own pleasure, the paramount dignity of Indra; who is the crown jewel over the three worlds, and whose feet are honoured by the whole body of gods. 42. The Intellect expands, rises and falls, and circulates everywhere in the womb of the triple world; as the waters of the deep overflow and recede and move about in itself. 43. The full moon beams of intellect, scatter their widespread brightness on all sides; and display to the full view the lotus lake of all created beings in the world. 44. The translucent brightness of the mirror of the Intellect, shows the reflexions of the world in it, and receives benignantly the images of all things in its bosom; as if it were pregnant with them. 45. The Intellect gives existence to the circles of the fourteen great regions (of creation) above and below; and it plants them in the watery expanse of the sea on earth, and in the etherial expanse of the waters in heaven. (The fourteen regions are the seven continents--_sapta dwípas_, beset by the seven watery oceans, sapta-samudras on earth; and the seven planets revolving in the etherial ocean of the skies. Manu says the god Brahmá planted his seed in the waters; and the Bible says--God divided the waters above from the waters below by the midway sky). 46. Intellect spreads itself like a creeper in the vacuous field of air, and became fruitful with multitudes of created beings; it blossomed in the variety of the different peoples; and shooted forth in the leaves of its dense desires. 47. These throngs of living beings are its farina flying about, and their desires are as the juice which gives them their different colours; their understandings are their covering cuticles and the efforts of their minds are buds that unfold with flowers and fruits of their desire. 48. The lightsome pistils of these florets are countless in the three worlds, and their incessant undulation in the air, expressed their gaysome dance with the sweet smiling of the opening buds. 49. It is the Intellect which stretches out all these real and unreal bodies, which expand like the gentle and good looking flowers for a time, but never endure for ever. (The body like a fading flower is soon blown away.) 50. It produces men like moon bright flowers in all places, and these flush and blush, and sing and dance about, deeming themselves as real bodies. 51. It is by the power of this great Intellect, that the sun and other luminous bodies shining over the sky as the two bodies in a couple, are attracted to one another to taste the fruit of their enjoyment as that of gross bodies. 52. All other visible bodies that are seen to move about in this phenomenal world, are as flakes of dust dancing about on eddy. (_i.e._ All things move about and tend towards their central point the Intellect). 53. The Intellect is like a luminary of the universe, and manifests unto us all the phenomena of the three worlds, as the flame of a lamp shows us the various colours of things: (which are reflected by light on dark and opaque matter). 54. All worldly things exhibit their beauty to our sight, by their being immerged in the light of the Intellect, as the dark spot on the disk of the moon, becomes fully apparent to view by its immersion in the lunar beams. (The black spot on the moon's surface, becomes white by the brightness of the moon-beams, so the dark world becomes illumined by the presence of the Intellect in it). 55. It is by receiving the gilding of the Intellect, that all material bodies are tinctured in their various hues; as the different trees receive their freshness, foliage and fruitage from the influence of the rainy weather. 56. It is the shadow (or absence of intellect), which causes the dullness of an object; and all bodies are inanimate without it, as a house becomes dark in absence of light or a lamp. (Intellect gives life to dull matter). 57. The wondrous powers of the intellect (which gives a shape and form to every thing), are wanting in any thing; it becomes a shapeless thing, and cannot possibly have any form or figure in the world, over its dull materiality. (Even inanimate nature of all forms and kinds, receives its figure from the power of intellect). 58. The intellect is as the skylight, wherein its active power or energy resembling its consort, resides with her offspring of desire in the abode of the body, and is ever restless and busy in her actions. (This active power is personified as the goddess _sakti_ or Energy, and her offspring-desire is the personification of Brahmá). 59. Without the presence of the Intellect, it is no way possible for any one to perceive the taste of any flavour though it is set on the tip of his tongue, or see it with his eyes? (Intellect is the cause of all perception). 60. Hear me and say, how can this _arboretum_ of the body subsist, with its branching arms and hairy filaments, without being supplied with the sap of the intellect. 61. Know hence the intellect to be the cause of all moving and immovable things in nature, by its growing and feeding and supporting them all; and know also that the intellect is the only thing in existence, and all else is inexistent without it. 62. Vasishtha said:--Ráma! after the moon-bright and three-eyed god had spoken to me in his perspicuous speech, I interrogated again the moon-bright god in a clear and audible voice and said. 63. O lord! If the intellect alone is all pervading and the soul of all, then I have not yet been able to know this visible earth in its true light. 64. Say why is it that people call a living person, to be endowed with intellect so long as he is alive, and why they say him to be devoid of intellect, when he is layed down as a dead and lifeless mass. 65. The god replied--Hear me tell you all: O Brahman, about what you have asked me; it is a question of great importance, and requires, O greatest of theists! a long explication. 66. The intellect resides in every body, as also in all things as their inherent soul; the one is viewed (by shallow understandings) as the individual and active spirit, and the other is known (to comprehensive mind) as unchanging and universal soul. 67. The mind that is misled by its desires, views the inward spirit as another or the living soul, as the cupidinous person takes his (or her) consort for another, in the state of sleep or dreaming. (The unsettled mind takes every individual soul for the universal one). 68. And as the same man seems to be changed to another, during his fit of anger; so the sober intellect is transformed to a changeable spirit, by one's mistake of its true nature. (The _nirvi kalpa_ or immutable spirit, is changed to a _savi kalpa_ or mutable one). 69. The intellect being attributed with many variable qualities and desires, is made to lose its state of purity; and by thinking constantly of its gross nature, it is at last converted to the very gross object of thought. 70. Then the subjective intellect _chit_, becomes itself the _chetya_ or object of thought, and having assumed the subtile form of a minute etherial atom, becomes the element of sound; and is afterwards transformed to the rudimental particle of air _vata tan mátra_. 71. This aerial particle then bearing relation to the parts of time and place, becomes the vital principle (as existing some where for a certain period of time); which next turns to the understanding and finally to the mind. 72. The intellect being thus transformed into the mind, dwells on its thoughts of the world, and is then amalgamated with it, in the same manner as a Brahman is changed to chandala, by constantly thinking himself as such. (Thus this creation is a display of the divine mind and identic with it). 73. Thus the divine Intellect forgets its universality by its thoughts of particulars; and assumes the gross forms of the objects of its thoughts and desires. (Hence we say a man to be of such and such a mind, according to the thought or desire that he entertains in it, _i.e._ the whole being taken for a part and the part for the whole). 74. The Intellect being thus replete with its endless thoughts and desires, grows as dull as the gross objects it dwells upon; till at last the subtile intellect grows as stony dull, as the pure water is converted to massive stones and hails. 75. So the stolid intellect takes the names of the mind and sense, and becomes subject to ignorance and illusion; by contracting a gross stolidity restrained from its flight upwards, and have to grovel forever in the regions of sense. 76. Being subjected to ignorance at first, it is fast bound to the fetters of its cupidity afterwards, and then being pinched by its hankerings and angry frettings, it is tormented alike by the pleasure of affluence and the pains of penury. 77. By forsaking the endless felicity (of spirituality), it is subjected to the incessant vicissitudes of mortality, it now sets dejected in despair, and lamenting over its griefs and sorrow, and then burns amidst the conflagration of its woes and misery. 78. See how it is harassed with the vain thought of its personality--that I am such a one; and look at the miseries to which it is exposed, by its reliance on the frail and false body. 79. See how it is worried by its being hushed to and fro, in the alternate swinging beds of prosperity and adversity; and see how it is plunged in the deep and muddy puddle of misery, like a worn out elephant sinking in the mire. 80. Look at this deep and unfordable ocean of the world, all hollow within and rolling with the eventful waves of casualties; it emits the submarine fire from within its bosom, as the human heart flashes forth with its hidden fire of passions and affections. 81. Human heart staggers between hope and fear, like a stray deer in the forest; and is alternately cheered and depressed at the prospects of affluence and want. 82. The mind that is led by its desire, is always apprehensive of disappointment; and it coils back for fear of a reverse, as a timorous girl flies afar from the sight of a spectre. 83. Man encounters all pains for a certain pleasure in prospect, as the camel browses the thorny furze in expectation of honey at a honey comb in it; but happening to slip from his intermediate standpoint, he is hurled headlong to the bottom. 84. One meeting with a reverse falls from one danger to another; and so he meets with fresh calamities, as if one evil invited or was the harbinger of the other. 85. The mind that is captivated by its desires, and led onward by its exertions, meets with one difficulty after another, and has cause to repent and grieve at every step (or is the cause of remorse and grief). (All toil and moil, tend to the vexation of the spirit). 86. As a man advances in life, so he improves in his learning; but alas! all his worldly knowledge serves at best, but to bind down the soul fast to the earth. 87. Cowards are in constant fear of everything, until they die away in their fear; as the little shrimp being afraid of the waterfall, falls on dry land, and there perishes with flouncing. 88. The helplessness of childhood, the anxieties of manhood, the miserableness of old age; are preliminaries to the sad demise of men engaged in busy life. (The last catastrophe of human life). 89. The propensities of past life cause some to be born as celestial nymphs in heaven, and others as venomous serpents in subterranean cells; while some become as fierce demons, and many are reborn as men and women on earth. 90. The past actions of men make to be born again as Rákshas among savages, and others as monkeys in forests; while some become as Kinnaras on mountains, and many as lions on mountain tops. (All these are depraved races of men _viz_; the anthropophagi cannibals, the pigmy apes--_banars_, the ugly mountaneers _Kinnaras_ and the leonine men _narasinhas_). 91. The Vidyádharas of the Devagiri mountains, and the Nagas of the forest caves (are degenerations of men); and so are the fowls of air, the quadrupeds of wood lands, the trees and plants of forests, and the bushes on hills and orchides on trees; (are all but transformation of the perverted intellect). 92. It is self same intellect which causes Náráyana to float on the surface of the sea, and makes the lotus born Brahmá to remain in his meditation; It keeps Hara in the company of his consort Uma, and places Hari over the gods in heaven. 93. It is this which makes the sun to make the day and the clouds to give the rain (or pour in rains); It makes the sea to breathe out in waves, and the volcanic mountains to blow out in fire and flame. 94. It makes the curricle of time to revolve continually in the circle of the seasons; and causes the day and night to rotate in their cycles of light and darkness. 95. Here it causes the seeds to vegetate with the juice contained in them; and there it makes the stones and minerals lie down in mute silence. 96. Some times it blooms in fruits ripened by the solar heat, and at others maturated by the burning fuel; some where it gives us the cold and icy water; and at others the spring water which cannot be lasted. 97. Here it glows in luminous bodies, and there it shows itself of impenetrable thickets and in accessible rocks; It shines as bright and white in one place, and is as dark and blue in another; It sparkles in the fire and dwindles in the earth, it blows in the air and spreads in the water. 98. Being the all-pervading, omnipresent and omnipotent power itself, it is the one in all and the whole plenum. It is therefore more subtile and transparent, than the rarefied and translucent air. 99. As the intellect spreads out and contracts itself, in any manner in any place or time; so it conceives and produces the same within and without itself, as the agitation of waters produces both the little billows and huge surges of the sea. (The intellect is the immanent cause of all phenomena). 100. The intellect stretches itself in the various forms of ducks and geese, of cranes and crows, of storks, wolves and horses also; it becomes the heron and partridge, the parrot, the dog, the stag, the ape and Kinnara likewise. 101. It is the abstract quality of the understanding, beauty and modesty, and of love and affections also; it is the power of illusion and the shadow and brightness of night and of moonlight likewise. 102. It stretches itself in these and all other forms of bodies, and is born and reborn in all kinds and species of things. It roves and rolls all about the revolving world, in the manner of a straw whirling in a whirlpool. 103. It is afraid of its own desires, as the she-ass is seen to shudder at its own brayings; and it has no one like itself. ([Sanskrit: mugva bálá-calá-valá]). 104. I have told you already, O great sage! how this principle of the living spirit, becomes vitiated by its animal propensities, and is afterwards debased to the nature and condition of brute creatures. 105. The supreme soul receiving the appellation of the living soul or principle of action, becomes a pitiable object, when it becomes subject to error and illusion, and is subjected to endless pains and miseries. 106. The deluded soul is then overpowered by its connate sin, which causes it to choose the wrong unreality--asat for itself, which being frail and perishable, makes the active soul to perish with itself. (This passage appears to allude to the original sin of man, which became the cause of the death and woes of human life. The connate sin is compared to the husk which is born with the rice, and not coming from without. It is otherwise called the inborn sinfulness or frailty of human nature--Man is to err &c.). 107. The soul being thus degraded from its state of endless felicity, to the miserable condition of mortal life, laments over its fallen state, as a widow wails over her fate. 108. Look on the deplorable condition of intellect--_chit_; which having forgotten its original state (of purity), is subjected to the impotent Ignorance, which has been casting it to the miseries of degradation, as they cast a bucket in the well by a string, which lowers it lower and lower till it sinks in the bottom of the pit. (This string _araghatta_ is said to be the action of human life, which the more it is lengthened, the more it tends to our degradation, unless we prevent by our good action. So the sruti! [Sanskrit: yathákárí yatháchárí tathá bhalati | sághukárí sádhurbhabati | prápakárí papíbhavati | punyo bai punyema karmmana bhavati | pápah pápereti |]). CHAPTER XXXI IDENTITY OF THE MIND AND LIVING SOUL. Argument--The pure Intellect shown to be without vitality; and the mind to consist in the vital power in connection with the sensations and external Perceptions. The god continued:--When the intellect collects (takes) the vanities of the world to itself (and relies on them) and thinks to be a miserable being; it is said to have fallen into error, (by forgetting the reality and its true nature); it then resembles a man that is deluded to think himself for another, in his dream or ebriety. (The living soul is forgetful of its spiritual nature). 2. Though immortal yet it is deceived to believe itself as mortal, by its infatuated understanding; as a sick man weeps to think himself dead when he is still alive. 3. As the ignorant man views the revolving spheres to be at a stand still, so the deluded intellect sees the world and thinks its personality as sober realities. 4. The mind alone is said to be the cause of the perception of the exterior world in the intellect; but the mind can be no such cause of it, from the impossibility of its separate existence independent of the intellect. (The intellect is the cause of guiding and informing the mind, and not this of that). 5. Thus there being no causality of the mind, there cannot be its causations of the thinkable world also. Therefore the intellect only is the cause of thought, and neither the mind nor the thinkable world (which produces or impresses the thought). The gloss says that, "the intellect whereby the mind thinks, is not the mind nor its dependant or the objective thinkable world; but it is the pure subjective self-same intellect only." 6. There is no spectacle, spectator (or sight of) of anything anywhere, unless it be a delusion, as that which appears oiliness in a stone; and there is no matter, making or work of any kind; unless it be a mistake like that of blackness in the moon. (The oily glossiness of the marble and the shade in the moon, are no other but the inherent properties of those things). 7. The terms measure, measurer, and measurable are as negative in nature, as the privation of forest plants in the sky; and the words intellect, intellection and intelligible are as meaningless in themselves, as the absence of thorns and thistles in the garden of Paradise. (gloss. The intellect _chit_ is the subjective intellection, _chetana_ is _chitta vritti_--the property of _chit_, is the attribute, and the intelligible _chetya_ is the object of thought. The meaning is that, there is no separate subject, object or attribute in nature, but they all blend in the essentiality of God, who is all in all. The words subjective, objective and attributive, are therefore mere human inventions, and so are the words thinker, thinking and the thought ([Sanskrit: mantri, mati, mantavya],) and knower, knowing and knowledge ([Sanskrit: víha, vuhvi, víhavya],) and the ego, egoism and egotist ([Sanskrit: ahamkára, ahamkarttá, ahamkáryya]) all which refer to the same individual soul). 8. The personalities of egoism, tuism and illism; [Sanskrit: ahantvam tvantvam, tatvam], are as false as mountains in the firmament; and the difference of persons (as this is my body and that another's), is as untrue as to find whiteness in ink. 9. The Divine spirit is neither the same nor different in all bodies; because it is as impossible for the universal soul to be confined in any body, as it is impracticable for the mount Meru to be contained in an atom of dust. And it is as impossible to express it in words and their senses as it is incapable for the sandy soil to grow the tender herbs. 10. The dictum _netineti_.--It is neither this nor any other, is as untrue as the belief of the darkness of night subsisting in company with the day light: and substantiality and unsubstantiality are both as wanting in the supreme spirit, as heat is wanting in ice. 11. It is as wrong to call it either as empty or solid, as it is to say a tree growing in the womb of a stone to call it either the one or the other; is to have it for the infinite _vacuum_ or the full _plenum_. 12. It is the sole unity that remains in its state of pure transparency forever; and being unborn from the thought or mind of any body, it is not subject to the misrepresentation of any body. (The gloss says: Not being born from the mind of Brahmá as this creation, the Intellect is free from the imperfections of both). 13. It is however imputed with many faults and failings, in the thoughts and opinions of men; but all these imputations and false attributes, vanish before one knowing its true nature. 14. The learned devoid of indifference, are employed in many other thoughts and things; though not a straw of all this vast world, is under the command of any body. 15. It is in the power of every body to get rid of his thoughts, but very difficult to get the object of his thought; How then is it possible for one to have, what it is impracticable for him to try for? (_i.e._ The full object of desire). 16. The one sole and immutable Intellect which pervades all nature, is the supreme one and without an equal, and is more pellucid than the translucent light of a lamp and all other lights. 17. It is this intellectual light which enlightens every thing, it is ubiquious and ever translucent; it is ever shining without a shade, and immutable in its nature and mind. 18. It is situated every where and in all things, as in pots and pictures, in trees and huts, and houses in quadrupeds, demons and devils, in men and beasts, in the sea, earth and air. 19. It remains as the all witnessing spirit, without any oscillation or motion of its own to any place; and enlightens all objects, without flickering or doing any action by itself. 20. It remains unsullied with by its connection with the impure body, and continues unchangeable in its relation with the changeful mind. It does not become dull by being joined with the dull body, and is never changed to anything by its extension over all things. 21. The extremely minute and immutable intellect, retains its consciousness in itself; and by rolling itself like a rundle of thread, enters the body in the form of a particle of air (or the vital breath or air pránáyáma). 22. It is then accompanied with the powers of vision and reflexion, which are wakeful in the waking state and lie dormant in sleep; whence it is said to be existent and inexistent by turns. 23. The clear and pure intellect, comes then to think of many things in its waking state, and is thus perverted from its purity; as an honest man turns to dishonesty in the company of the dishonest. (The perversion of the intellect is owing to its attachment to the flesh, and its entertaining to worldly thoughts). 24. As the pure gold is converted to copper by its alloy, and is again restored to its purity by removal of the base metal; such is the case of the intellect owing to its contracting and distracting of vicious thoughts. 25. As a good looking glass being cleansed of its dirt, shows the countenance in a clear light; so the intellect being born in the human body, attains its divine nature by means of its good understanding. 26. Its want of the knowledge of itself as the all, presents the sight of the false world to it as a true reality; but upon coming to know its true nature, it attains the divine state. 27. When the mind thinks of itself of its difference (from the intellect), and the existence of the unrealities (in nature), it gets the sense of its egoism, and then it perishes though it originally imperishable in its nature. (The sruti [Sanskrit: tasya bhayam, bhavati], "it then fears to die" because the personal soul is subject to death, and not the impersonal or universal soul which never dies. So the phrase: "Forget yourself and you'll never fear to die"). 28. As a slight wind scatters the fruits of trees growing on the sides of mountain, so the consciousness of self, drops down at the gust of a slight disease, like a large tree. 29. The existence of the qualities of form and colour and others, is owing to that of intellect; as the position of subalterns--_adhyasta_ is dependent on the station of the superior--_adhishthata_. And the pure intellect--infinite and indefinite in itself, is designated as a unity, duality and plurality by want of right understanding. 30. It is from the essence of the intellect only, that the mind and senses derive their faculties of thinking and perception; as it is presence of day light, which gives rise to the routine of daily business. 31. It is the action of the vital air, which gives pulsation to the pupils of the eye, and whose light is called the sight, which is the instrument of perceiving the forms and colours of things that are placed without it, but the perception belongs to the power and action of the intellect. 32. The air and skin are both of them contemptible and insensible things, yet their union gives the perception of touch or feeling; the mind becomes conscious of that feeling, but its consciousness is dependent on and caused by the intellect. 33. The particles of scent being carried by the particles of air to the nostrils, give the sense of smelling to the mind; but it is intellect which has the consciousness of smelling. 34. The particles of sound are conveyed by the particles of air to the organ of hearing for the perception of the mind, and the intellect is conscious of this as in its sleep. (And as a silent witness of the same). 35. The mind is the volitive principle of action from some desire or to some end and aim of its own, and the thoughts of the mind are all mixed with foulness, while the nature of the intellectual soul is quite pure and simple. (The difference between the sensuous mind and the conscious intellect, is that the one is the volitive and active agents of its actions, the other is the passive and neutral witness of all and every thing that is and comes to take place, without its interference in any). 36. The intellect is manifest by itself, and is situated of itself in itself; it contains the world within itself, as the crystalline stone retains the images of all things in its bosom. (The subjective soul bears in it the objective world, which is not different but self-same with itself. Hence the nullity of the objective duality, which is identic with the subjective unity). 37. It is the single and sole intellect which contains the whole, without dividing or transforming itself to parts or forms other than itself. It neither rises or sets, nor moves nor grows at any place or time (but occupies all space and time, in its infinity and eternity). 38. It becomes the living soul by fostering its desires, and remains as the pure intellect by forsaking them for ever; and then seated in itself, it reflects on its two gross and pure states. (The two gross states are the gross world, and the gross mind that dwells only on gross bodies of the world). 39. The intellect has the living soul for its vehicle, and egoism is the vehicle of the living principle; the understanding is the car of egotism and the mind the seat of the understanding. 40. The mind again has the vital breath for its curricle, and the senses are vehicles of the vital airs; the body is the carriage of the senses, and the organs of action are the wheels of the body. 41. The motion of these curricles forms the course of this world (which is hence called _karma_ Kshetra or world of activity); and the continued rotation of the body (called the cage of bird of life); until its old age and demise, which is the dispensation of the Almighty power. (That man must toil and moil till he is worn out and goes to his grave). 42. The world is shown unto us as a phantasmagoria of the supreme soul, or as a scene in our dream; it is a pseudoscope and wholly untrue as the water in a mirage. 43. Know, O sage, that the vital breath is called the vehicle of the mind by fiction only; because wherever there is the breath of vitality, there is also the process of thinking carried on along with it. 44. Wherever the breath of life circulates like a thread, and acts as spring, there the body is made to shake with it; as the forms and colours of bodies, present themselves to view at the appearance of light. 45. The mind being employed with its desires, perturbs the vital breath and body as a tempest shakes the forest; but being confined in the cavity of the heart, it stops their motion as when the winds are confined in the upper skies. (The mind being fixed to some particular object of meditation, stops the course of life and gives longevity to man). 46. Again the confinement of the vital breath in the vacuity of the heart, stops the course of the mind (thoughts); as the hiding of a light, removes the sight of the objects from view. (No thought without breathing, and no sight without light). 47. As the dusts cease to fly after the winds are over; so the mind (thought) ceases to move, when the breath is pent up in the heart. (These are subjects of _Pránáyáma_ or restraint of breath, treated at large in chapter XXV of this book). 48. As the carriage is driven wherever the driver wishes to drive it; so the mind being driven by the vital breath, runs from country to country in a moment. 49. As the stone flung from a fling is lost forever, so the thoughts of the mind are dispersed in the air, unless they are fixed upon some object. The thoughts are accompaniments of the mind and vitality, as fragrance is attendant on flowers and heat upon fire. 50. Wherever there is vital breath breathing (in any animal being), there is the principle of the mind with its train of thoughts likewise; as whenever the moon appears to view, it is accompanied with its beams also. Our consciousness is the result of the vibrations of the vital air, like our perception of the perceptibles; and this air is the sustainer of the body also, by supplying the juice of the food to all the nerves and arteries. 51. The mind and consciousness both belong to the body, the one residing in the hollow of the vital air, and the other is as clear as the intellect, and resides alike in all gross and subtile bodies, like the all pervading and transparent vacuum. 52. It remains in the form of conscious self-existence in dull inanimate bodies; and appears to be afraid of the vibrations of animal life (_i.e._ The vegetables and minerals are conscious of their own existence, without having their vital and animal actions of breathing and locomotion). 53. The dull body being enlivened by the vital breath, is recognized by the mind as belonging to itself; and plays many parts and frolics with it, as in its prior state of existence. 54. The mind vibrates no longer, after the extinction of breathing; and then, O sage! the pure intellect is reflected in the eight fold receptacle of vacuum. (These are termed the puryashtakas and consist of the mind, life, knowledge, the organs of action, illusion, desire, activity and the subtile body). 55. As it is the mirror only that can reflect an image, and no other stone; so it is the mind alone these as their octuple receptacle--_puryashtaka_, and which is the agent of all actions, and is termed by different names according to the views of different divine teachers. 56. That which gives rise to the net work of our imaginary visible world, and that in which it appears to be situated, and whereby the mind is made to revolve in various bodies, know that supreme substance to be the Immensity of Brahma, and source of all this world (or as diffused as all in all which is thence called the visvam--the all _to pan_). CHAPTER XXXII ON THE SUSTENTATION AND DISSOLUTION OF THE BODY. Argument.--Exposition of the animation of the complicate Body, and its ultimate decomposition at death. The god continued:--Hear me, holy sage! now relate to you, how the active and oscillating principle of the intellect, acts on the human body and actuates it to all its actions, whereby it receives the noble title of its active agent. (The disembodied and nameless intellect, gets many appellations in its embodied state, according to its various temporal and spiritual avocations and occupations in life. gloss). 2. But the mind of man which is impelled by its former (or pristine) propensities, prevails over the (good) intellect; and being hardened in its vicious deeds, pursues its changeful wishes and desires. (The former evil propensities refer to those of past lives, and allude to the original depravity of human nature and will). 3. The mind being strengthened by illusion (máyá), the intellect becomes dull and stultified as stone; and this power of delusion growing stronger by divine dispensation, displayed the universe to view. (The máyá is otherwise called _Brahma Sakti_ Divine omnipotence, which overpowers on the omniscience of God in the acts of creation, &c. Hence the neutral omniscience is called the Intellect _chit_, and the active omnipotence is styled the mind). 4. It is by the good grace of this power, that the intellect is allowed to perceive sometimes, the fallacy of the aerial city of this world, and at others to think it as a reality. (_i.e._ It comes to detect the fallacy by exercise of its intellection, and thinks it real by its subjection-illusion). 5. The body remains as dumb as stone, without the presence of the intellect, the mind and its egoism in it; and it moves about with their presence in it, as when a stone is flung in the air. 6. As the dull iron is made to move, by its contiguity to or attraction of the loadstone; so doth the living soul _jíva_ act its parts, by the presence of the omnipresent soul in it. (The actions of the living soul are its respirations, and direction of the organs of action to their respective function). 7. It is by the power of the all pervading soul, that the living principle shoots out in infinity forever, as the germs of trees sprout forth the seed in all places. And as the recipient mirror receives the reflexion of objects situated at a distance from it, so the living soul gets the reflex or image of the distant supreme spirit in itself. (God made man in his own image). 8. It is by forgetfulness of its own and real nature, that the living soul contracts its foul gross object, as a legitimate twice-born man mistakes himself for a sudra by forgetting his birth by such error or illusion. 9. It is by unmindfulness of its own essence, that the intellect is transformed to the sensuous mind; as some great souls are deceived to believe their miserableness in the distractedness of their intellect percipience. (Men are often misled to believe themselves otherwise than what they are, as it was the case with the princes Lavana, Gádhi, and Harischandra mentioned before and as it turns out with all miserable mortals, who forget their immortal and celestial natures). 10. It is the intellect which moves the dull and inert body, as the force of the winds shakes the waters of the deep to roll and range about in chains and trains of waves. 11. The active mind which is always prone to action, leads the machine of the body together, with the passive and helpless living soul at random, as the winds drive about in different directions, together with the inert stones (ballast) contained in it. (_i.e._ The mind is the mover of both the body and soul, but the intellect is the primum mobile of all). 12. The body is the vehicle, and God has employed the mind and the vital breath, as the two horses or bullocks for driving it. (The mind is said also to be its driver, the soul its rider, and the breaths are its coursers). 13. Others say, that the rarefied intellect assumes a compact form, which becomes the living soul; and this riding on the car of the mind, drives it by the vital airs as its racers. (Hence the course of the mind and its thoughts, are stopped with the stoppage of respiratory breaths). 14. Sometimes the intellect seems as something born and to be in being, as in its state of waking and witnessing the objects all around; at others it seems to be dead and lost as in the state of its profound sleep. Again it appears as many, as in its dreaming state; and at last it comes to know itself as one and a unit, when it comes to the knowledge of truth and of its identity with the sole unity. 15. Sometimes it seems to be of a different form, without forsaking its own nature; as the milk becomes the butter and curd etc. and as the water appears in the shape of a billow or wave or of its foam or froth. (That changed in all, yet in all the same &c. Pope). 16. As all things depend upon light, to show their different forms and colours to view, so the mental powers and faculties, do all of them depend upon the intellectual soul for their several actions. (The intellect in the form of the soul, directs and exhibits the actions of the mind). 17. Again the Supreme Spirit being situated in the mind within the body, the animal soul has its life and action; as all things appear to sight, while the lighted lamp shines inside the room. (As the silent soul directs the mind, so the active mind keeps the soul alive). 18. The ungoverned mind gives rise to all diseases and difficulties, that rise as fastly and thickly, as the perturbed waters rise in waves, which foam out with thickening froth. 19. The living soul dwelling like the bee in the lotus-bed of the body, is also subject to diseases and difficulties as the bee to the rains and flood; and it is as disturbed by the casualties of life, as the calm sea-water are perturbed to waves by the blowing winds. 20. The dubitation that, "the divine soul is omnipotent, and the living soul is impotent and limited in its powers; and therefore the human soul is not the same with the Divine"; is the cause of our woe, and serves to darken the understanding; as the clouds raised by the sunlight, serve to obscure the solar disk (this doubt leading to dualism, cuts us from God and exposes us to all the calamities of life). 21. The sentient soul passes under many transmigrations in its insensibility, and in utter want of its self consciousness; like one subdued to dull obtuseness by some morphia drug, which makes him insensible of the pain inflicted upon his own person, (This drug is some anaesthetic agent as opium, chloroform and the like). 22. But as it comes to know itself afterwards by some means or other, it recovers from its dull insensibility, and regains its state of original purity; as a drunken or deluded person turns to his duty, after he comes to remember himself. (So the lost and stray sheep, returns to its fold and master). 23. The sentient soul that fills the body, and is employed in enlivening all its members, does not strive to know the cause of its consciousness; as a leper never attempts to make use of any part of his body, which he is incapable to raise. (So the soul that is drowned in ignorance and dead in its sin, will never rise to reclaim its redemption by reproving itself). 24. When the soul is devoid of its consciousness, it does not enable the tube of the lotus-like heart to beat and vibrate with the breath of respiration; but makes it as motionless as a sacrificial vessel unhandled by the priest. 25. The action of the lotiform heart having ceased, the motion of the vital breaths is stopped also; as the fanning of the palmleaf fan being over, there is no more the current of the outer air. 26. The cessation of the vital air in the body, and its flight to some other form, sets the life to silence and sink in the original soul; just as the suspension of the blowing winds, sets the flying dusts to rest on the ground. 27. At this time, O sage, the mind alone remains on its unsullied state and without its support; until it gets another body, wherein it rests as the embryonic seed lies in the earth and water. 28. Thus the causes of life being deranged on all sides, and the eight principles of the body inert and extinct (in their actions); the body droops down and becomes defunct and motionless. (The eight principles called the _puryashtakas_). 29. Forgetfulness of the intellect, the intelligible (truth) and intelligence, produces the desires of them to vibrate; these give to remembrances of the past, and their want buries them to oblivion. 30. The expansion of the lotus-like heart, causes the _puryashtaka_ body to expand also; but when the organ of the heart ceases to blow and breathe, the body ceases to move. 31. As long as the puryashtaka elements remain in the body, so long it lives and breathes; but these elementary powers being quiet and still, the body becomes inert and is said to be dead. 32. When the contrary humours, the feelings and passions and sensible perceptions, and the outward wounds and strokes, cause the inward action of the organic heart to stop:-- 33. Then the puryashtaka forces are pent up in the cavity of the heart, as the force of the blowing winds, is lost in the hollow of a pair of blowing bellows. 34. When a living body has its inward consciousness, and becomes inert and motionless in its outer parts and members, it is still alive by the action of breathing in the inner organ of the heart. 35. Those whose pure and holy desires never forsake their hearts, they live in one quiet and even state of life, and are known as the living liberated and long living seers. (The pure desires are free from the influence of passions, and tendency to earthly enjoyments; which cause holy life and give longevity to man). (An unperturbed mind is the best preservative of health). 36. When the action of the lotus like machine of the heart has ceased, and the breath ceases to circulate in the body, it loses its steadiness, and falls unsupported on the ground as a block of wood or stone. 37. As the octuple body mixes with the air in the vacuum of the sky, so is the mind also absorbed in it at the same time. 38. But being accompanied with the thoughts, to which it has been long accustomed, it continues to wander about in the air, and amidst the regions of heaven and hell, which it has long believed to await on its exit from the body. 39. The body becomes a dead corpse, after the mind has fled from it in the air; and it remains as an empty house, after its occupant has departed from it. 40. The all pervading intellect, becomes by its power of intellection both the living soul as well as the mind; and after passing from its embodied form (of puryashtaka), it assumes its spiritual (átiváhika) nature afterwards. 41. It fosters in its bosom the quintessence (pancha tan mátram) of the subtile elemental mind, which assumes a grosser form afterwards, as the thoughts of things appear in dream. 42. Then as the intensity of its thoughts, makes the unreal world and all its unrealities, appear as real before it, it comes to forget and forsake its spiritual nature, and transform itself to a gross body. 43. It thinks by mistake the unreal body as substantial, and believes the unreal as real and the real as unreal. (_i.e._ It takes the unreal material as real; and the real spiritual as nothing). 44. It is but a particle of the all pervading Intellect, that makes the living soul, which reflects itself afterwards in the form of the intelligent mind. (The understanding is a partial reflection of the Intellect. Gloss). The mind then ascends on the vehicle of the octuple body, and surveys the phenomenal world as a sober reality. (_i.e._ The senses of the body, represent the universe as real). 45. The intellect is the prime mobile power, that gives force to the octuple material (puryashtaka) body to move itself; and the action of the breath in the heart which is called life, resembles the spiritual force of a ghost raising an inert body. (The power of spirits entering and moving inert bodies, forms a firm belief in India). 46. When the aerial mind flies into the vacuous air, after the material frame is weakened and worn out; then the lifeless body remains as a block of wood or stone, and is called a dead mass by those that are living. 47. As the living soul forgets its spiritual nature, and becomes decayed in course of time and according to the frail nature of material things; so it fades and falls away in the manner of the withered leaves of trees. 48. When the vital power forsakes the body, and the action of the pericardium is stopped; the breath of life becomes extinct, and the animated being is said to die away. 49. As all beings that are born and have come to life, fade away in time like all created things in the world; so do human bodies also fade and fall away in time, like the withered leaves of trees. 50. The bodies of all embodied beings, are equally doomed to be born and die also in their time; as the leaves of trees, are seen to be incessantly growing and falling off at all seasons; why then should we lament at the loss of what is surely to be lost. 51. Look at these chains of living bodies, which are indiscriminately and incessantly rising and falling like bubbles and billows, in the vast ocean of the divine Intellect, and there is no difference of any one of them from another; why then should the wise make any distinction between objects that are equally frail in their nature, and proceed from and return to the same source. 52. The all-pervading intellect reflects itself only in the mind of man, and no where else; as it is the mirror only that receives the reflexions of objects, and no other opaque substance besides. 53. The acts and fates of men are all imprinted in the spacious and clear page of the Divine intellect, and yet are all embodied beings loud in their cries and complaints against the decrees of Heaven which is owing to their ignorance, and tending to their bitter grief and vain lamentation. CHAPTER XXXIII. RESOLUTION OF DUALITY INTO UNITY. Argument.--Unity, the source, substance, and ultimum of plurality, which is resolved to unity. The Doctrine of monotheism. One in all and all into one. Vasishtha said:--Tell me, my lord, that bearest the crescent of the moon on thy fore-head, how the pure and simple essence of the intellect, which is an infinite unity and ever uniform and immutable in its nature, is transmuted to the finite dualities of the variable and impure soul and mind. (Moreover the whole equal to a part is quite absurd and impossible). 2. Tell me, O great god! how this uncaused prime cause, becomes diffused in endless Varieties, and how can we get rid of the plurality of our creeds by our wisdom, for putting an end to our miseries. (By means of our belief in the true unity). 3. The god replied--When the omnipotent God (sad), remains as one unity of immensity (Eka Brahma); it is then of course absurd, to speak of his duality or plurality, and of the manifestation of a part or minim of himself. (The whole cannot be a part). 4. Taking the monad for a duad, is to ascribe duality to unity; and the imputation of dualism or bipartition to the simple intellect, is wholly futile from its nature of indivisibility. (So says the sruti: The one is no dual nor a bipartite thing. In Him there is no plurality, diversity or any particularity whatever. [Sanskrit: natu taddvitíyamasti tati-nya hvibhaktam | nanuneha nánástikincana.]) 5. The want of the number one, causes the absence both of unity, duality; because there can be no dual without the singular, nor a single one unless there be the number two above it. (_i.e._ There can be no duality without the prime and preceding unity; nor even the unity unless it is followed by duality; because the prime number would be indefinite and indetermined without the succeeding ones). 6. The cause and its effect being of one nature (or essence), they are both of the same kind, as the fruit and the seed contained in it. The difference which is attributed to them from the change of one thing to the other, is a mere fiction of imagination. 7. The mind itself evolves in its thoughts at its own will; the changes occurring in itself, are no way different from its own nature; as the mutual productions of seed and fruit, are of the same nature, the same fruit produces the same seeds, and these again bring forth the same fruits &c. (So the mind and its thoughts, are the same things and of the self-same nature). 8. Many modifications incessantly rise in the infinite mind of the almighty Maker as its eternal will, and these taking place in actu in positive existences, and substantive forms bear the relation of causes and their effects in this world. 9. These productions are likened to the waves of waters in the sea, and mirage to the progeny of a barren woman, and the horns of a hare--all which are _nil_ and not in being. They are all as negative as the water on the mountaintop, and as the barley corn growing on the head of a hare. (In all these instances the producer or container is a reality; but the produced or contained waves etc. are false; and so is Brahma the producer and container of all as positive entity, but the production of the world is null and void). 10. Herein enquiring into the real truth, we must refrain from logomachy; and find that though all things tend to stablish the unity, yet it is difficult even in thought to do away with the difference of things, as that of words and their senses. (that is to say, though unity is the result of right reason, yet duality is inseparable from common sense). 11. The essence of divine omnipotence, is not divisible into portions or their fractions, like the waves of the sea, that are broken into bubbles and particles of waters. 12. As the leaves and stalks and branches and flowers of trees, are no other than the same substance; so unity and duality, meity and tuity and the objectivity of the phenomenal world, are not different from the essence of the subjective intellect, which contains and puts forth itself in all these forms. 13. All time and place and variety of figures and forms, being but modifications of the intellect, it is improper for us to question the reality of those, and assert the certainty of this intellect. 14. The entities of time and space, and the powers of action and destiny (divine ordinance), are all derived from and directed by the intellect and bear their intellectual natures also. 15. As the power of thinking, the thought and its object, jointly compose the principle of mind; so the whole universe and every thing that bears a name, are all included under the term chit or intellect; as the water and its rise and fall, are all included under the word wave. 16. The thoughts which continually rise and fall, in the great ocean of the intellect; are like the waves which heave and set down, on the surface of the boisterous sea. 17. It is this supreme intellect which is known by the various appellations of the Lord, God, Truth, Siva and others; as also by the various names of vacuum, unity and the supreme spirit. 18. Such is the nature of God, whom no words can express; and who is styled the Ego or the subjective "I am that I am" and whom it is beyond the power of speech to describe. 19. All that is seen all around, are but the leaves, fruits, flowers and branches of the all creeping plant of the intellect; which being diffused in all, leaves nothing that is different from it. 20. The divine intellect [Sanskrit: chit] being omniscient [Sanskrit: mahávidyá] has the great nescience or ignorance [Sanskrit: mahá avidyá] underlying it (as the lighted lamp is accompanied by the shadow under it); and then looking at this side of itself it takes the name of the living soul, and beholds this shadowy world stretched outside the divine mind, as we see another moon in the reflexion of that luminary, cast upon a nebular circle beyond it. 21. Then thinking itself as another or a living being _Jíva_, and other wise than what it is (_i.e._ the immortal spirit paramátma); it becomes just of the same nature, as it thinks and forms itself by its own will. 22. Being thus transformed from its perfect and immaculate state, to that of an imperfect and impure nature; it is made to wade amidst the stream of this world, without ever thinking (of its fall from the state of original purity). 23. The intellectual form being then assimilated with the elemental (puryashtaka) body, receives its vital or mortal life and living soul, which lives by reflexion of the essence of the supreme intellect. 24. The spiritual body is also transformed to the frail living body, which being joined with quintessence of quintuple elements, comes to know itself as material substance (dravymas miti). 25. This substance being next infused with the vital breath, receives soon after its vigor and strength like the seed of a plant; and then it feels itself to be endued with life, and to be conceived in the uterus in its own conception. 26. The same erroneous conception of its gross materiality, misleads to the belief of its own egoism and personality. It conceives also its state of a moving or unmoving being, and this conception of it converts it instantly into the like form. (We have the forms, as we picture to ourselves in our minds). 27. Again the simultaneous meeting of former reminiscence with the later desire of a person, changes its former habitual and meaner form, to that of a larger and grosser kind. (Thus one that had been a contemptible gnat in its previous state of existence, is come to a big elephant in its next birth, not from its remembrance of its former state of life, but from its settled desire of becoming the would be being in the next. So it is the will [Sanskrit: vásaná] that supersedes the former impression [Sanskrit: samskára] of what one had been before, and transforms it to what it wishes to be afterwards. Hence the will is the parent of thoughts). 28. The difference and duality of one from its identity and unity, are results of one's thinking himself other wise than what he really is; as a man becomes a devil by thinking himself possessed by a ghost. 29. The thought of the duality of one self-same soul, in its two aspects of the supreme and human souls; is driven away by the persuasion that I do nothing, and the agency of all actions rests in the great God himself. 30. The unity is considered as a duality, by the dualistic opinions of men; while on the other hand the belief in unity, destroys the conviction of dualism and plurality from the minds of men. 31. There is no duality or secondary being in the soul, which may be regarded as the supreme soul, because there is but one soul only, which is unchangeable and unperishable at all times and every where. (All other changing and finite beings, are but reflexions of the supreme). 32. All works of imagination are dispersed, with the dispersion of the fumes of fancy; as one's aerial castle and the fairy city, vanish after the flight of the phrenzy and the visionary dream. 33. It is painful to raise a fabric of imagination, but there is no pain whatever in breaking it down; because the chimera of imagination is well skilled in building the aerial cities, and not in demolishing them. (Which belongs to the province of reason only). 34. If the fullness of one's desires and fancies, is fraught with the pains and troubles of life, it must be the want of such wishes and views, that will serve to set him free from these pains for ever. 35. If even a slight desire is enough to expose a man to many cares in life, then its utter privation must afford him complete rest and quiet, in his transient state of being. 36. When your mind has got loose, from the manifold folds of your serpentine desires; you will then come to enjoy the sweets of the garden of paradise. (Had it not been for the serpent's insinuation to taste the fatal fruit, our first parents would be left to enjoy all the sweets of Paradise). 37. Drive away and disperse the clouds of your desire, by the breeze of your reason; and come and enjoy your rest, under the calm and clear autumnal sky of your indifference--_nonchalance_. 38. Dry the impetuous current of your rapid desires, by the charms of amulets and mantras; and then restrain yourself from being borne away by the flood, and restrict your mind to its dead inaction. 39. Rely thy trust in the intellectual soul _chidátmá_, seated in the cavity of thy heart, and look on mankind driven to and fro by the gusts of their desire, like fragments of straw flying at random in the perturbed air. 40. Wash out the dirt of thy desires from thy mind, by the pure water of thy spiritual knowledge; and after securing the perfect tranquillity of thy soul, continue to enjoy the highest bliss of a holy life. 41. God is all powerful and omnipresent, and displays himself in all forms every where (He is seen in the same manner as one desires to behold him in a temporal or spiritual light. [Sanskrit: vrashma káranena bhogmakáranena bá yathá bhávayate tatha pashyati]). 42. It is the thought or imagination, that makes the false world appear as true; and it depends upon the thought also, that the world vanishes into nothing. (The existence and inexistence of the world; depend alike on the thoughts of divine and human minds; the positive and negative are all creations of the mind). 43. It is the net work of our thoughts and desires, that is interwoven with the threads of our repeated births; but the winds of our apathy and indifference blow off this web, and settle us in the state of supreme felicity. 44. Avarice is a thorny plant, that has taken deep root in the human heart; it is fostered under the shade of the arbor of desire, root out this tree of desire, and the thorny bush of avarice will fade away of itself. 45. The world is a shadow and a pseudoscope, and rises to view and disappears by turns; it is an error of the brain that presents the sight of the course of nature (sansriti), like that of the fairy land presented to us in a dream. 46. The king that forgets his nature of the Lord, mistakes himself for a prince, or that he is born or become the ruler of the land; this concept of his which springs from ignorance of his divine nature, vanishes soon after he comes to the real knowledge of himself. 47. The king in possession of his present royalty, has no reminiscence of his past and former state; as we do not recollect the foulness of the past rainy weather, in the serenity of the present autumn. 48. The thought that is predominant in the mind, naturally prevails over the fainter and weaker ones, as the highest pitch in music suppresses the _bass_ tones, and takes possession of the ear. 49. Think in yourself that you are one (unit or the unity), and that you are the soul (or supreme soul); keep this single reflection before you, and holding fast to it, you will become the object of your meditation. (This is called [Sanskrit: átmapújá] spiritual adoration, or assimilating one's self to the supreme soul). 50. Such is the spiritual meditation of spiritualists like yourself, who aspire to the highest felicity of the supreme Being; while the external form of worship, is fit only for ungoverned minds, that rapt only for their temporal welfare. In formal worship composed of the worshipper, the formalities of the ritual and the articles of offerings, are symbolical of ignorant minds, and too insignificant to the wise. CHAPTER XXXIV. SERMON OF SIVA ON THE SAME SUBJECT. Argument.--The divine state, above the quadruple conditions of waking, sleeping, dreaming and profound sleep. The god continued:--Such is the constitution of this world, composed of reality and unreality, and bearing the stamp of the almighty; it is composed both of unity and duality, and yet it is free from both. (To the ignorant it appears as a duality, composed of the mind and matter; but the wise take it neither as the one or the other, but the whole _to pan_--the root of pantheism). 2. It is the disfigurement of the intellect by foul ignorance, that views the outer world as distinct from its maker; but to the clear sighted there is no separate outer world, but both blend together in the unity. 3. The perverted intellect which considers itself as the body, is verily confined in it; but when it considers itself to be a particle of and identic with the divine, it is liberated from its confinement. (In the mortal and material frame). 4. The intellect loses its entity, by considering the duality of its form and sense; and be combined with pleasure and pain, it retains no longer its real essence. 5. Its true nature is free from all designation, and application of any significant term or its sense to it; and the words pure, undivided, real or unreal, bear no relation to what is an all pervasive vacuity. 6. Brahma the all and full (to pans plenum), who is perfect tranquillity, and without a second, equal or comparison, expands himself by his own power as the infinite and empty air; and stretches his mind in three different directions of the three triplicates. (Namely 1 of creation, preservation and destruction of the universe--2 the three states of waking, sleeping, and dreaming--3 the union of the three powers--the supernal, natural and material agencies. [Sanskrit: srishti, sthiti, pralaya, jágrat, nidra, sapta | ádhidaiva, ádhibhautika, ádhibhauvikanca].) 7. The mind being curbed with all its senses and organs in the great soul, there appears a dazzling light before it, and the false world flies away from it, as the shade of night disappears before the sunlight. (This verse is explained in the gloss to refer both to the supreme spirit before creation, as also to the yogi who distracts his mind and senses from the outer world, and sees a blazing light stretched over his soul). 8. The imaginary world recedes from view, and falls down like a withered leaf; and the living soul remains like a fried grain, without its power of vegetation or reproduction. 9. The intellect being cleared from the cloud of illusion, overhanging the deluded mind, shines as clearly as the vault of the autumnal sky; and is then called _pashyanti_ or seeing from its sight of the supernatural, and _utsrijanti_ also from its renunciation of all worldly impressions. (This is called also the cognoscent soul, from its cognition of recondite and mysterious truths). 10. The Intellect being settled in its original, pure and sedate state, after it has passed under the commotions of worldly thoughts; and when it views all things in an equal and indifferent light, it is said to have crossed over the ocean of the world. (The course of worldly life is compared to a perilous sea voyage, and perfect apathy and indifference to the world, is said to secure the salvation of the soul). 11. When the intellect is strong in its knowledge of perfect _susupti_ or somnolence over worldly matters; it is said to have obtained its rest in the state of supreme felicity, and to be freed from the doom of transmigration in future births. (The perfect rest of the next world, is begun with one's _ecstasis_ in this). 12. I have now told you, O great Vipra, all about the curbing and weakening of the mind, which is the first step towards the beatification of the soul by yoga; now attend to me to tell you, concerning the second step of the edification and strengthening of the intellect. 13. That is called the unrestricted power of the intellect, which is fraught with perfect peace and tranquillity; which is full of light, clear of the darkness of ignorance, and as wide stretched as the clear vault of heaven. 14. It is as deep as our consciousness in profound sleep, as hidden as a mark in the heart of a stone; as sweet as the flavour in salt, and as the breath of wind after a storm. (All these examples show the strength of the soul, to consist in its close compactness). 15. When the living principle comes to its end at any place, in course of time; the intellect takes it flight like some invisible force in open air, and mixes with the transcendent vacuum. 16. It gets freed from all its thoughts and thinkables, as when the calm sea is freed from its fluctuation; it becomes as sedate as when the winds are still, and as imperceptible as when the flower-cup emits its fragrance. 17. It is liberated from the bonds and ideas of time and place (by its assimilation to infinity and immortality); it is freed from the thought of its appertaining to or being a part of anything in the world; it is neither a gross or subtile substance, and becomes a nameless essence. (The intellect or soul bears distinctive mark or peculiarity of its own, except that it is some thing which has nothing in common with anything in the world). 18. It is not limited by time and space, and is of the nature of the unlimited essence of God; it is a form and fragment of the quadruple state of Brahma or Virát [Sanskrit: túryya túryyamása], and is without any stain, disease or decay. 19. It is some thing witnessing all things with its far seeing sight, it is the all at all times and places, it is full light in itself, and sweeter far than the sweetest thing in the world. (Nothing sweeter than one's self). 20. This is what I told you the second stage of yoga meditation, attend now, O sage! that art true to your vows, and dost well understand the process of yoga, to what I will relate to you regarding its third stage. 21. This sight of intellect is without a name, because it contains like the Divine Intellect all the thinkables (or objects of thought) within its ample sphere, as the great ocean of the world, grasps all parts of the globe within its spacious circumference. It extends beyond the meaning of the word _Brahmátma_ or the ample spirit of the god Brahmá in its extension _ad infinitum_. (It resembles the comprehensive mind of God). 22. It is by great enduring patience, that the soul attains in course of a long time, this steady and unsullied state of its perfection _purushártha_; and it is after passing this and the fourth stage, that the soul reaches to its supreme and ultimate state of felicity. 23. After passing the successive grades and until reaching the ultimate state, one must practice his yoga in the manner of Siva the greatest of the yogis; and then he will obtain in himself the unremitting holy composure of the third stage. 24. By long continuance in this course, the pilgrim is led to a great distance, which transcends all my description, but may be felt by the holy devotee who advances in his course. 25. I have told you already of the state, which is beyond these three stages; and do you, O divine sage! ever remain in that state, if you wish to arrive to the state of the eternal God. 26. This world which seems as material, will appear to be infused with the spirit of God when it is viewed in its spiritual light, but upon right observation of it, it is neither the one nor the other (but a reflexion of divine mind). 27. This what neither springs into being nor ceases to exist; but is ever calm and quiet and of one uniform lustre, and swells and extends as the embryo in the womb. (The embryo is to be understood in a spiritual sense from God's conception of the world in his mind). 28. The undualistic unity of God, his motionlessness and the solidity of his intelligence, together with the unchangeableness of his nature, prove the eternity of the world, although appearing as instantaneous and evanescent. (The solid intelligence is shown in the instances of solidified water in ice and snow, and in the froth and salt of sea water). 29. The solidity of the intellect produces the worlds in the same manner as the congealed water causes the hail-stones, and there is no difference between the existent and nonexistent, since all things are ever existent in the divine mind. (Though appearing now and then to me or you as something new). 30. All is good (siva or solus) and quiet, and perfect beyond the power of description; the syllable _om_ is the symbol of the whole, and its components compose the four stages for our salvation. (All is good. And God pronounced all was good. See the quadruple stages comprised in the letter _om_, in our introduction to the first volume of this work). CHAPTER XXXV. ADORATION OF THE GREAT GOD MAHÁ-DEVA. Argument.--Of Mahádeva, the father of Brahmá, Vishnu and Siva and the manner of his worship. Vasishtha said:--Then Hara, who is the lake of the lotus of Gaurí (_i.e._ her husband), being desirous of my enlightenment, glanced on me for a minute, and gave utterance to his lecture. 2. His eyes flashed with light under his heavenly forehead, and were as two caskets of his understanding, which scattered its rays about us. (The eyes are the indexes of men's understanding in Physiognomy). 3. The god said:--O sage, call your thoughts home, and employ them soon to think of your own essence; and to bring about your ends, as the breezes of heaven convey the fragrance to the nostrils. (The mind is usually compared in its fleetness with the winds, and therefore the task of the breezes is imposed upon the thoughts, which are as vagaries unless they answer one's purposes). 4. When the object long sought for is got in one's possession, what else is there for one to desire any more. I who have known and come to the truth, have nothing to expect as desirable nor any thing to reject as despicable. (When one is possest of his sole object, he is indifferent about all others, whether they be good or bad). 5. When you have got your mastery over yourself, both in the states of your peace and disquiet; you should apply yourself to the investigation of yourself or soul, without attending to any thing besides. (Nothing better than self-culture, and the advancement and salvation of one's own soul). 6. You may at first depend on your observations of the phenomenal, (as preparatory to your knowledge of the noumenal), which you will now learn from my lecture, if you will attend to it with diligence. 7. After saying in this manner, the holder of the trident told me, not to rely on my knowledge of the externals, but to attend to the internal breathings, which move this abode of the body, as the physical forces move a machine. 8. The lifeless body being without its breathing, becomes dull and dull and dumb as a block; its power of movement being derived from the air of breath, but its powers of thought and knowledge are attributed to the intellect. 9. This intellect has a form more rare and transparent than the vacuous air, it is an _ens_ which is the cause of all entities; and is not destroyed by destruction of the living body for want of vital breath. 10. The intellectual is more rarefied and translucent than the ethereal air, and never perishes with the body; because it remains as the power of intellection, in the mental (percipient) and living body. (The sruti says: it is the life of life, and mind of the mind). 11. As the clear shining mirror, receives the reflexion of external things; so the mind of God reflects all images from within itself, and from nothing situated without. 12. As the soiled glass receives no reflexion of outward things, so the lifeless body has no reflexion of any thing, though it is preserved to our view. (And so are all thoughtless persons considered as dead bodies). 13. The all-pervasive intellect, though it is formless itself, is yet prone towards the movement of sensible objects owing to its sensuous perceptions; but coming to the pure understanding of its spiritual nature, it becomes the supreme Siva again. 14. The sages then called this immaculate intellect by the several names of Hari, Siva, Brahmá, and Indra, who are the givers of the objects of desire to all living beings. 15. It is also styled the fire and air, the sun and moon, and the supreme Lord; and it is this which is known as the ubiquious soul and the intellect, which is the mine of all intelligence. 16. It is the lord of gods, the source of celestials, the Dháta or Brahmá, the lord of gods, and the lord of heaven. Any body who feels the influence of this great intellect in himself, is never subject to illusion. 17. Those great souls that are known in this world, under the names of Brahmá, Vishnu, Hara and others, are all but offspring of the supreme Intellect, and endowed with a greater portion of it. 18. They are all as sparks of hot iron, and as particles of water in the immense ocean of creation; so all those that are mistaken for gods, have sprung from the source of the supreme Intellect. 19. As long as there exist the seeds of error, and the sources of endless networks of imagination; so long the arbour of gross illusion does not cease, to sprout in endless ramifications. 20. The veda, its exposition and the vedic literature, are but tufts of the tree of ignorance for the bondage of men; and these again produce many other clumps, to hold men fast in their ignorance. 21. Who can describe the productions of nature, in the course of time and place; the gods Hari, Hara, and Brahmá are among the number, and have all their origin in the supreme Being--their common father. (So says the Atharva Sera Sruti: [Sanskrit: sarvvamidram brahmávishnurudrendráste sampamúyate sarvvani cíndráyánisahamúteh sakáranam káranánáma.]) 22. Mahádeva the great god is the root of all, as the seed is the source of the branches of trees; He is called the All (sarva), because He is the essence of all things, and the sole cause of our knowledge of all existence. (The Purána says to the same effect). [Sanskrit: trayaste káranátmánah játáh máhámaheshvarát | tapasá topathitvá tam pitaram parameshvaram |] 23. He is the giver of strength to all beings, he is self manifest in all, and is adorable and hallowed by all. He is the object of perception to them that know him, and is ever present in all places. (The word Mahádeva commonly applied to Siva, originally meant the great god, as in the definition of the term in the gloss. [Sanskrit: mahatyaparicchinne átmajnána yogaishvartye mahíyate pújyate iti mahádevah] So the sruti also: [Sanskrit: yo átmajnána yogaishvaryye mahati mahívate tasmáducyate mahádevah].) 24. There is no need of addressing invocatory mantras unto the Lord, who being omniscient and omnipresent, knows and sees all things as present before him at all places and times. 25. But being always invoked (or prayed unto) in the mind, this god who resides in every thing is attainable by us in every place; and in whatever form doth one's intellect appear to him, it is all for his good. (This passage means the visible form in which the deity makes his manifestation to the devotee). 26. He takes upon him the visible form, according to the thought in the mind of the worshipper, and this form is to be worshipped first of all with proper homage, as the most adorable Lord of gods. 27. Know this as the ultimate of the knowables of the greatest minds; and whoso has beheld this self-same soul, is freed from fears and sorrows and the complaints of old age, and is released from future transmigration, like a fried grain which vegetates no more. 28. By worshipping this well known and unborn first cause in one's self and at ease (_i.e._ without the formal rite); every one is freed from his fears, and attains his supreme felicity, why then do you bewilder yourselves amidst the visible vanities of the world. CHAPTER XXXVI. DESCRIPTION OF THE SUPREME DEITY PARAMESWARA. Argument.--Description of god as the Producer of all, and present in every form; his purity from his intangibleness and his great grandeur. The god added:--Know now the lord god Rudra, who in the form of one self-same intellect, is situated within every form of being, as is of the nature of self-conscious (Swanubhiati) in every one. 2. He is the seed of seeds, and the pith and marrow of the course of nature; know it also as the agent of all actions, and the pure gist of the intellect also. 3. He is the pure cause of all causes, without any cause of himself; he is the producer and sustainer of all, without being produced or supported himself by another. 4. He is the sensation of all sensible beings, and the sense of all sensitive things; he is the sensibility of all sensuous objects, and the highest object of our sensuousness, and the source of endless varieties. 5. He is the pure light of all lights (of the sight, luminaries &c.), and yet invisible by all of them. He is the increate and supernatural light, the source of all sources of light and the great mass of the light of Intellect. 6. He is no positive (or material) existence, but the real (or essential) entity; he is all quiet and beyond the common acceptations of reality and unreality (Being no absolute or relative entity or non-entity). And among the positive ideas of the great entity &c. (mahásattwádi), know him as the Intellect alone and no other. (Many kinds of Entities are enumerated in Indian philosophy, such as:--[Sanskrit: matyena chávahárikena | satyena prátibha sikenábasthátva yena |] Again [Sanskrit: mahásatta, jagat satta, ádisattá karana vyáktatasattá |]) 7. He becomes the colour, colouring and colouror; He becomes as high as the lofty sky, and as low as the lowly hut. (The colour--_rága_ means the passion and feelings also; and the sky and hut mean the empty space and decorated cottage). 8. There are in the expanded mind of this Intellect millions of worlds like sands in the desert, likewise many of these like blossoms of trees, have blown away, others are full blown, and many more will come to blow here after. 9. It is ever burning, as an inextinguishable flame by its own inherent fire; and though it is ever emitting innumerable sparks of its essence all about, yet there is no end of its light and heat and fire. 10. It contains in its bowels the great mountains, likening the particles of dust (or rather as the roes of a fish); it covers also the highest mountains, as the lofty sky hides the dusts on earth. So the sruti--Greater than the greatest and smaller than the smallest. [Sanskrit: aníraníyan mahatimahiyát] 11. It comprehends the great--_mahákalpa_ millennium, like a twinkling of the eye; and is also contained in a kalpa age, in its quick motion of a twinkling. (_i.e._ He is eternity as well as jot of time). 12. Though minuter than the point of a hair, yet it encompasses the whole earth (as its boundary line); and the seven oceans that encircle the earth with their vests, cannot gird the great Infinity. 13. He is called the great creator of the universe, though he creates nothing (Like the makers of other things); and though he does all actions, yet he remains as doing nothing (by his calm quietness). 14. Though the deity is included under the category of substance, yet he is no substance at all; and though there be no substantiality in him, yet his spirit is the substratum of all things. (All along he is the figure of _vaiparitya_ or opposition, which well applies to Brahma who is all and nil or the _omnium et nullum_, _Sarvamasarvam_. (Though bodiless, he is the great body of the universe _corpus mundi_--_viswarúpa_ or _virát_).) 15. He is _adya_--(hodie) today, and _prátar_--practer tomorrow, and though the preter and future, yet he is always present. Wherefore he is neither now or then, but sempiternal and for ever. 16. He is not in the babbling and prattling of babes and boys, nor in the bawling of beasts and brutes, nor in the jargon of savages; but equally understood by all in their peculiar modes of speech. (This is the interpretation of the gloss; but the words of the text are unintelligible and meaningless). 17. These words are meaningless and are yet true, like the obsolete words occurring in the vedas. Therefore no words can truly express what is God, because they are not what he is (but mere emblems). These difficult passages are not explained in the gloss and left out in the Calcutta edition. 18. I bow down to him who is all, in whom all reside and from whom they all proceed, and who is in all place and time, and who is diffused through all and called the one and all--_to pan_. 19. In this verbiology of obscure words, there will be found some fully expressive of the meaning, as in a forest of thick wood we happen to fragrant flowers, which we pluck and bear with us in handfuls. (The entangled phraseology of the stanza will bear no literal translation). CHAPTER XXXVII. THE STAGE PLAY AND DANCE OF DESTINY. Argument.--Of the endless powers or saktis of Siva, among whom the power of Destiny is described in this. The God joined:--The beauty of the words said before is palpable, and their senses all allude to the truth, that the Lord of all is the rich chest of gems of all things in existence. (The gloss is too verbose in the explanation of this passage). 2. How very bright are the rays of the gems contained in the receptacle of the supreme Intellect, that shines forth with the collected light of all the luminous worlds in it. (It means to say, that the Divine intellect must be brighter far than all the orbs of light contained in it). 3. The essence of the intellect flies in the air in the form of the granular farina, and becomes the embryotic corpuscula; which in the manner of the vegetable seed, sprouts forth into the germ in its proper time, soil, moisture and temperature. (The gloss explains the essence _satta_ to mean the energy--_sakti_, which is represented as the female attribute of the Divinity). 4. This power of the intellect, moves in the forms of froth and foam, and eddies and whirl pools in the sea; and rolls its waters against the hard stones of the beach. (The liquid waters are moving things that are hard to touch). 5. It is settled in the form of flavour in the clusters of flowers; it makes them full blown, and carries their fragrance to the nostrils. 6. Seated on bodies of stone (stony rocks), it makes them produce unstone-like substances (as the trees and their foliage and flowers of various hues); and makes the mountains to support the earth without their actually upholding it. (The mountains are called _bhudharas_ or supports of the earth.) 7. The intellect takes the form of the air, which is the source of all vibrations, and touches the organ of touch (skin); with as much tenderness as a father touches the body of his child. 8. As the divine power extends itself in every thing, so it contracts the essences of all things in a mass within itself; and having absorbed the whole in the divine entity, makes all nature a vacuous nullity. 9. It casts the reflexion of its own clear image, in the transparent mirror of vacuum; and takes upon itself the pellucid body of eternity, containing all divisions of time. 10. Then there issues the power of Destiny, which predominates over the five principal divinities; and determines the ultimate fate of all that "this is to be so, and this other wise." 11. It is in the presence of the bright light of the all witnessing eye of the great God, that the picture of the universe presents itself to our sight; as the presence of the lighted lamp in the room, shows us the lights of the things contained in it. 12. The universal vacuum contains the great theatre of the universe, wherein the Divine powers and energies are continually playing their parts, and the spirit of God is the witness there of. 13. Vasishtha asked--What are the powers of that Siva (Jove), my lord! who are they and where are they situated; what is number, and how are they employed and who is their witness. 14. The god replied--The god Siva is the benignant, incomprehensible and tranquil supreme soul; He is gracious and formless and of the nature of the pure intellect only. 15. His essences are volition, vacuity, duration and destiny; and also the qualities of infinity and fulness. 16. Beside these he has the properties of intelligence and action, as also of causality and quietude; and there are many other powers in the spirit of Siva, of which there is no reckoning nor end. 17. Vasishtha rejoined--Whence came these powers to him, and how had they their variety and plurality; tell me, my lord! whence they arose, and how they were separated (from omnipotence which comprehends them all). 18. The god replied:--The god Siva who is intellect only of himself, has endless forms also (according to his endless attributes), and the powers that I have said to belong to him, are little and no way different essentiality. (The properties that are predicated of god, belong to his intrinsical nature and not derived from without). 19. It is the discrimination of the powers of intelligence, action, passion, vision and others; that the powers of God are said to be many and different from one another, like the waves of the sea (which appears in the different shapes of billows, surges &c.). 20. Thus do those different powers act their several parts for ever, in the grand stage of the universe; as the ages, years, months and weeks and days, play their parts under direction of time--the manager of the stage. 21. That power which appears as the one or another, is called the divine powers of destiny; and is distinguished by the several appellations of action, energy or will of God, or the dispensation of his Time. (Time is said to be the producer, sustainer and leveller of all things. [Sanskrit: kálí prabhavati dháryyte, pralíyate sarvvam tasmát kálí hi valavattarah]). 22. That power which determines the states of gods, and those of the great Rudras as so and so, and what regulates the conduct of all things from a mean straw to the great Brahmá, is called the predominant doom or destiny. 23. This destiny continues to dance about the great arena of the universe, until the mind is cleared of her bugbear and freed from anxiety by the knowledge of truth (that it is the Divine will which destines the destiny). 24. The play of destiny is very pleasing to behold, owing to the variety of its characters and contrivances, and the quick changes of the scenes, and the repeated entrances and exits of its players and actors. It is conducted all along with the music of the drums and trumpets of the roaring clouds of the Kalpánta-doomsday. (_i.e._ On the last day of universal dissolution, when the dance of destiny and her play are over). 25. The vault of heaven is the canopy over this stage, the season flowers are its decorations, and the showers of rain serve for the sprinkling of rose waters in it. 26. The dark clouds hung about the heavens are, the blue hanging screens around this stage, and the sexcentenary as of the earth with the shining gems in their bosom, serve for the ornamented pits and galleries of this playhouse. 27. The shining sky with its sight of the days and watches, and its eyes of the twinkling stars; is witnessing the continual rise and fall of all being, and the plunging and up heaving of mountaintops at the great deluge. 28. The revolving luminaries of the sun and moon, and the rolling currents of the Ganges, appear as the pearly jewels on the person of this actress, and the lustre of the twilight seems as the red red-dye of her palms. 29. The incessant motion of the upper and nether worlds, with the continued gingling of their peoples; resemble the footsteps of this dancing destiny, with the ringing trinkets and anklets fastened to her feet. 30. The sunshine and moonbeams, represent the lustre of her smiling face; and the twinkling stars in the sky, resemble the drops of sweat trickling on her face. 31. These very many worlds are supposed as so many apartments of this great theatre. 32. The two states of pleasure and pain or joy and grief, which are destined to the lot of all living beings, show the different shows of comic and tragic representations. 33. The changing scenes, that are always seen to take place in the play of destiny, at the great stage of this world; are continually witnessed by the great God himself, who is neither distant, or distinct from this, nor is this so from that. CHAPTER XXXVIII. ON THE EXTERNAL WORSHIP OF THE DEITY. Argument.--The External worship of God in his outward temple, with bodily acts and service. And also of Internal adoration in spirit or the Way to Liberation. The god continued:--This god who is the supreme Lord, is the adorable one of the wise; in the form of the intellect and conscious soul, and as all pervading and support of all. 2. He is situated alike in the pot and painting, in the tree and hut, in the vehicle and in all men and brute animals; under the several names of Siva, Hara, and Hari, as also of Brahmá, Indra, Agni, and Yama. 3. He is in the inside and outside of all as the universal soul, and always dwells in spirit and in the soul of every wise person. This Lord is worshipped in various forms by different people in the many modes as described below. 4. Hear me first relate to you, O great sage! how this god is worshipped in the outward form and formulas; and you will next hear me relate unto you, the inward form in which he is worshipped in spirit. 5. In all forms of worship you must cease to think of your body, and separate your mind from your person, however purified it may be (By your ablution and the like). You must then apply your mind diligently to think of the pure and bodiless soul, which witnesseth the operations of the body from its inside. 6. His worship consists in his inward meditation only, and in no other mode of outward worshipping, therefore apply your mind in the adoration of the universal soul, in its meditation in your soul only. 7. He is of the form of the intellect, the source of all light and glorious as millions of suns; He is the light of the inward intellect, and the receptacle (origin) of egoism and tuism. (_i.e._ of the subjective and objective). 8. His head and shoulders reach above the heaven of heavens, and lotus like feet descend far below the lowest abyss of vacuity. 9. His arms extend to the endless bounds of all sides and space; and hold in them the many worlds in the infinite firmament as their wielding weapons and arms. 10. The worlds rolling over one another, rest in a corner of his capacious bosom; His effulgence passes beyond the limit of the unlimited vacuum, and his person stretches beyond all imaginable bounds. (Extends through all extent, Pope). 11. Above, below, in all four quarters and in all sides of the compass, he extends unspent and without end; and is beset in all sides by the host of gods, Brahmá, Rudra, Hari and Indra, and the demi gods also. 12. These series of creatures are to be considered as the rows of hairs on his body; and the different courses of their actions, are as the strings binding the machines of the world together. 13. His will and destiny are powers proceeding from his person, as his active agencies in nature, such is the Lord--the supreme one, who is always to be worshipped by the best of men. 14. He is the intellect only and the conscious soul, the all pervading and the all supporting spirit; and resides alike in the pot and painting, as in the moving car as also in living animals. 15. He is Siva, Hari, and Hara, Brahmá, Indra, Fire, and Yama; He is the receptacle of endless beings, and the aggregate body of all essences or the sole entity of entities. 16. He contains this mundane sphere, together with all the worlds with their mountains and all other contents in himself; and the all powerful time which hurls them ever onward, is the warder at the doorway of his eternity. 17. The great god Mahádeva, is to be thought upon as dwelling in some part of this body of eternity and infinity, with his body and its members, and with a thousand ears and eyes. (This is same with the macrocosm of virát in the vedas). 18. This figure has moreover a thousand heads and a thousand hands with their decorations. It has as many eyes all over its body with their powers of sight and so many ears also with their power of hearing. 19. It has the powers of feeling or touch and taste all over its person, as also, the power of hearing in the whole body, and that of thinking in its mind within. 20. It is however wholly beyond all conception, and is perfectly good and gracious to all. It is always the doer of all things that are done, and the bestower of every blessing on all beings. 21. It is always situated in the inside of all beings; and is the giver of strength and energy to all. Having thought upon the Lord of Gods in this manner, the devotee is to worship him in the usual method of the ritual. 22. Now hear me tell you, that are best acquainted with Brahma, of the mode of worshipping him in spirit; which consists only in adoring him in the conscious soul, and not in presenting offerings unto him. 23. It requires no illumination nor fumigation of incense; It has no need of flowers or decorations, nor does require the oblations of rice or sprinkling of perfumes or sandal paste. 24. It needs no exhalation of saffron or camphor, nor any painting or other things (as chouriflappers and the like); nor has it any need of pouring the water, which is easily obtainable every where. 25. It is only by effusion of the nectareous juice of the understanding, that the god is worshipped; and this is styled the best kind of meditation and adoration of deity by the wise. 26. The pure intellect which is known to be always present within one's self, is to be constantly looked into and sought after, heard about, and felt both when one is sleeping or sitting or moving about. 27. By constantly talking on the subject, and resuming the inquiry after leaving it off, one becomes fully conscious of himself; and then he should worship his lord the self-same soul in his meditation of it. 28. The offering of the heart in meditation of the Lord, is more delectable to him than the sweetest articles of food, offered with the choices and most fragrant flowers. 29. Meditation joined with self-consciousness or contriteness of soul, is the best _pádya_ and _arghya_ water and offering that is worthy of the Lord; because the best meditation is that which is accompanied with the flower--self offering to the Lord. (For naught avails the most intense meditation of the mind, when the heart and soul are not devoted to the service of the Lord). 30. Without this kind of meditation, it is impossible the supreme soul in one's self; and therefore spiritual meditation is said to abound with the grace of God and the greatest enjoyment of happiness and prosperity. (So the sruti:--Meditation in spirit is attended with all enjoyment and felicity). 31. As the animal or irrational soul enjoys all its pleasures, in the abode of its body; so the rational and spiritual soul derives all its happiness from meditation. (Because the Lord being full of felicity, pours out the same into the spirit of his devotee). 32. The ignorant man that meditates on the Lord, for a hundred twinklings of the eye; obtains in reward thereof, the merit of making the gift of a milch-cow to a Brahman. 33. The man who worships the Lord in his soul, for half an hour in this manner; reaps the reward of making a horse sacrifice (according to law). 34. He who meditates on the Lord in spirit and in his own spirit, and presents the offering of his reflections unto him, is entitled to the merit of making a thousand horse sacrifices. 35. Whoso worships the Lord in this manner for a full hour, receives the reward of making the Raj sacrifice; and by worshipping him in this form in the midday; he obtains the merit of making many thousands sacrifices of such kind. 36. The man who worships him in this way for a whole day, settles in the abode of the deity. 37. This is called the superior yoga meditation, and the best service of the Lord, as also the external adoration of the soul. 38. This mode of holy adoration destroys all sins; and whoso practices it for a minute with a steady mind, he is certainly entitled to the venerations of gods and demigods, and placed in the rank of emancipated spirits like myself. CHAPTER XXXIX. MODE OF THE INTERNAL WORSHIP OF THE DEITY. Argument.--The inward form in which, He is worshipped in spirit. The God resumed:--I will now relate to you, the form of the inward worship of the spirit in spirit; which is reckoned as the holy of holies, and dispeller of all darkness. 2. This mode of worship depends also on mental meditation, and is conducted in every state of life, whether when one is sitting or walking, or waking or sleeping. 3. It requires the supreme Siva, who is always situated in the body of man; and who is the cause of the perception of all things, to be worshipped in spirit and in the spirit of man. 4. Whether you think him, as sleeping or rising, walking or sitting; or whether conceive him touching or intangible contact with any thing, or quite unconnected and aloof from every thing about him. 5. Or whether you take him as enjoying the gross objects, or shunning them all by his spiritual nature; or as the maker of all outward objects, and the ordainer of all forms of action.-- 6. Or whether you consider him as remaining quiescent in all material bodies, or that he is quite apart from all substantial forms; you may worship him in whatever form your understanding presents him to you, or what you can best conceive of him in your consciousness. 7. Whoever has fallen in and is carried away by the current of his desires and who is purified from his worldliness by the sacred ablution of his good sense; should worship the _Siva lingam_ as the emblem of understanding with the offering of his knowledge of it. (The Lingam is the type of unity, represented by the figure, as the syllable om is the type of trinity expressed by its three letters). 8. He may be contemplated in the form of the sun, shining brightly in the sky; as also in that of the moon, which cools the sky with its benign moon beams. (Because the sun and moon are included under the eight forms of [God] as we see in the Prologue to Sakuntala. [Sanskrit: ye he kálah vidharttah] etc.). 9. He is always conscious in himself of all sensible objects, which are ever brought under his cognizance by means of his senses, as the breath brings fragrance to the nostrils. 10. He gives flavour to all sweets, and enjoys the sweetness of his felicity (ánanda) in himself; and employs the breathings as his horses, and borne in the car of respiration, sleeps in the cell of the heart. 11. Siva is the witness of all sights, and actor of all actions; he enjoys all enjoyments, and remembers all what is known. 12. He is well acquainted with all the members of his body, and knows all that is in existence and inexistence; he is brighter than all luminous objects, and is to be thought upon as the all-pervading spirit. 13. He is without parts and the totality of all parts, and being situated in the body, he resides in the vacuity of the heart; he is colourless himself and yet paints all things in their variegated colours, and is the sensation of every member of the body. 14. He dwells in the faculty of the mind, and breathes in the respirations of the beings; he resides within the heart, throat and palate of the mouth, and has his seat amidst the eyebrows and nostrils (as intelligence and breath of life). 15. He is situated beyond the limit of the thirty six categories of the saiva sástras, as also of the ten saktis ([Sanskrit: dashamahávidyá]) that are known to the saktas; he moves the heart and gives articulation to sounds, and makes the mind to fly about as a bird of the air. 16. He resides both in equivocal and alterative words, and is situated in all things as the oil in sesame seeds. 17. He is without the blemish of parts (being a complete whole in himself), and is compact with all the parts of the world taken together. He is situated alike in a part of the lotus-like heart of the wise, as well as in all bodies in general. 18. He is as clear as the pure and spotless intellect, and the imputation of parts to him is the work of mere imagination only. He is as palpably seen in everything at all places, as he is perceptible to us in our inward perception of him. 19. Though originally of the nature of universal intelligence yet he appears in the form of the individual soul according to the desire of men; and residing in every individual, he is divided into endless dualities (of universal and particular souls). 20. Then this God (the intelligent individual soul) thinks himself as an embodied being, endued with hands and legs, and the other parts and members of the body, with its hairs, nails, and teeth. 21. He thinks of being possest of manifold and various powers and faculties, and is employed in a variety of actions according to the desires of the mind. He feels glad on being served by his wives and servants (and thinking himself as their master). 22. He thinks the mind as a porter at the gate, and conductor of the information of the three worlds unto him; and his thoughts are as the chambermaids, waiting at his door with their pure attires. 23. He believes his knowledge of egoism as his greatest power and consort (sakti), and his power of action as his mistress; he thinks his knowledge of various lores to be his decorations only. 24. He knows his organs of sense and action to be the doors of the abode of his body, and is conscious of his being the infinite soul and inseparable from the same. 25. He knows himself to be full of the universal spirit; filled by and filling others with the same; and bears his admirable figure of the body, by his dependance on the Divine spirit. 26. That he is filled with the god-head within him, and is therefore no contemptible soul himself. He never rises nor sets nor is he glad or displeased at any time. (But enjoys the serenity of the Eternal soul). 27. He never feels himself satiate or hungry, nor longs after nor forsakes anything; he is ever the same and of an even tenor, temper and conduct and form at all times. 28. He retains the gracefulness of his person, the clearness of his mind, and the calmness of his views at all times; he is ever the same since his birth, and the equanimity of his soul never forsakes him at any time. 29. He is devoted to the adoration of his God, for longsome days and nights, and the mind abstracted from his body, becomes the object of his worship. (The gloss explains it otherwise, and makes the mindless body the worshipped object). 30. This God is worshipped with whatever offerings are available by the devotee, and with all the powers of the understanding, employed in the adoration of the sole Intellectual spirit. 31. He is to be worshipped with all things agreeably to the received ritual, and no attempt is to be made to make any offering, which was never made at any time before. 32. Man being endued with the body, should worship the Lord with his bodily actions (as prostration, genuflexion &c.); and with all things that conduce to bodily enjoyment. 33. So is Siva to be worshipped with eatables and victuals, food and drink of the best and richest kind; and with beddings and seats and vehicles as one may afford to offer. 34. Men must also entertain their souls, which are the abodes of the Divine spirit in their bodies; with all kinds of things that they think pleasurable to themselves; such as excellent food and drink and all things affording enjoyment and pleasure. 35. They must diligently serve the supreme soul in their souls, under any calamity, difficulty, danger or disease that may befall on them, as also when they are overtaken by illusions of their understandings. 36. The ends of all the attempts of mankind in this world, being no more than life, death and sleep, they are all to be employed in the service of the soul of nature. 37. Whether reduced to poverty or elevated to royalty, or carried by the currents of casualty; men must always serve their souls, with the flowers of their best endeavours. 38. Whether overwhelmed by broils, or buffeting in the waves of mishaps, whether undergoing the troubles or enjoying the comforts of domestic life, men must serve their souls at all times. 39. When the gentle beams of fellow feeling, overspread the breast of kind hearted men, and when the sweet influence of sympathy melts the heart, it is then must meet to serve the soul seated in it. 40. When a man has restrained the turbulent passions of his breast, by the power of his right judgment; and spread the vest of soft tenderness and sweet content over his heart and mind; let him then worship in its serene aspect within himself. 41. Let men worship the soul, on the sudden changes of their fortunes; both when they come to the possession, or loss of their enjoyments. (Because the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken them away). 42. The soul should be adhered to and adored, both when you lose or abandon your legal or illegal possession and enjoyment, of anything on earth. 43. Isha--the lord of wealth is to be worshipped with relinquishment of all wealth, which one may have got by his own exertion or otherwise. (Give your all to the giver of all). 44. Regret not for what is lost, and make use of what you have got; and adore the supreme soul without any inconstancy in your mind and soul. 45. Retain your constancy amidst the scene of the wicked pursuits of men, and maintain your vow of the holy devotion of the supreme spirit at all times. 46. Every thing appears as good in the sight of the Godly, who view all things in God; and they all seem to be mixed with good and evil to the worshipper of God and Mammon. Therefore look on all things as situated in the divine spirit, and continue in your vow of the adoration of the supreme soul. 47. Things which appear as pleasant or unpleasant at first sight, are all to be taken in an equal light, by those that are firm in their vow of the adoration of the one universal soul. 48. Give up thinking yourself as such or not such a one, forsake all particularities, and knowing that all is the universal One, continue in your vow of adoring the supreme soul. 49. Worship the supreme spirit as it always resides in all things, in their various forms and multifarious changes, and that it is all and all in their modifications also. 50. Forsake both your pursuit after or avoidance of any thing, and remaining in your indifference of both extremes, continue in your adoration of the soul at all times. 51. Neither seek nor forsake any thing, but receive what comes to thee of itself or by thy own lot; and enjoy all things as the sea does the streams of water, which fall to it of their own accord. 52. Fallen (placed) in this wide world of misery, man should take no heed of the lesser or greater sights of woe, that incessantly present themselves to his view. They are as the fleeting tincts and hues that paint the vacuous vault of the skies, and soon vanish into nothing. 53. All good and evil betide us by turns at the junction of their proper time, place and action; therefore take them with unconcern to you, and serve your own soul. (Which is same with the soul of souls). 54. Whatever things are mentioned as fit offerings of the service of the supreme spirit, it is the equanimity of your soul which is deemed the best and fittest offering. (A contrite spirit is most acceptable unto the Lord). 55. Things of different tastes, as the sour, bitter, acid, sharp and pungent, are useless in the service of the spirit; it is the calm and sweet composure of the soul, which is delectable to the holy spirit. 56. Equanimity is sweet to taste, and has the supernatural power of transforming every thing to ambrosia. (The man of an even mind, enjoys the sweetness of contentment in every state of life). 57. Whatever a man thinks upon with the ambrosial sweetness of his disposition, the same is immediately changed to ambrosia, as the nectarious dew drops under the moon beams. 58. Equanimity expands the soul, and gladdens the minds, as the sunlight fills the vault of heaven; and it is the unchangeable sedateness of the mind, which is reckoned as the highest devotion. 59. The mind of man must shine with an even lustre, as the bright moon beams in their fullness, and it must blaze with the transparent light of the intellect, as a bright crystal in the sunlight. 60. He who is employed in his outward actions of life, with his mind as bright as the clear sky; and which is freed from the mist of worldly affections, is said to be the full knowing devotee. 61. The true devotee shines as brightly, as the clear autumnal sky, when the worldly impressions are quite effaced from the heart, and are not seen even in dream, when the cloud of ignorance is cleared away, and the fog of egoism is utterly scattered. 62. Let your mind be as clear as the moon, and as spotless as the blazing sun; let it hide the thoughts, of the measurer and measured (_i.e._ of the creator and created) in it; let it have the simple consciousness of itself, like a newborn child (without its innate ideas); and perceiving only the steady light of the intellect the seed of all intelligence; you will then come to attain the state of highest perfection in your life time. 63. Living amidst the fluctuations of pain and pleasure, attending on the lot of all living beings, and occurring at their fixed times and places and actions of man, do you remain in the steady service of your soul--the leader of your body, by tranquilizing all the passions and desires of your heart and mind. CHAPTER XXXX. INQUIRY INTO THE NATURE OF THE DEITY. Argument--That the God Siva is beyond his formular adoration and his nature as that of the pure Intellectual soul. The God continued:--It is of no consequence, whether the spiritualist observe formal adoration in its proper time and manner or not; it is enough if he adore Siva in his form of the intellect within himself, which is equivalent to the worship of the _átmá_ or soul. (_i.e._ Worshipping the spirit in spirit). 2. This is attended with a delight, which becomes manifest within himself; and thus full of spiritual light and delight, the devotee is assimilated to and self same with his God. (This is the state of ecstacy, in which the adept loses himself in his God). 3. The meanings of the words affection and hatred, do not belong to the holy soul as separate properties of it; but they blend together and die in it as sparks in fire. 4. The knowledge that the dignity and poverty of men, as also the happiness and misery of one's self or others, proceed from God, is deemed as the worship of the supreme spirit, which ordains them all. (The gloss explains, that the attribution of all accidents of life to God, in his adoration also, as it is done by the offering of flowers unto him). 5. The consciousness of the world as manifestation of the Divine spirit, is reckoned as his devotion also, as a pot or other taken for the spirit of God, owing to its residence in it, forms his worship also. 6. The quiet and lightless spirit of Siva, being manifest in his works of creation, the whole sensible world is believed to be the form of the supreme spirit. 7. It is astonishing that every soul should forget its own nature, and think itself as a living soul residing in the body, as they believe the supreme soul to be confined in a pot or painting. 8. It is astonishing also, how they should attribute false ideas of worship, worshipper and the worshipped to the god Siva, who is the infinite soul of all and a pure spirit. 9. The ritual of worship and adoration, which applies to the finite forms of gods (their idols); cannot be applied to the worship of the infinite spirit of God. 10. The pure spirit of the eternal, infinite and all powerful, cannot be the object of ritualistic worship, which relates to finite gods or idols. 11. Know, O Brahman! that the spirit of God, which pervades the three worlds, and is of the nature of pure intellect, is not to be circumscribed by any form or figure. (As that of an idol or any natural object). 12. Know, O wisest of the wise! that those that have their god, as circumscribed by time and place (_i.e._ represented as limited and finite beings), are not regarded by us among the wise. 13. Therefore O sage! retract your sight from idols and idolatrous worship, and adopt your view to spiritual adoration; and be of an even, cool and clear mind, be dispassionate and freed from decay and disease. 14. Do you continue to worship the supreme spirit with an unshaken mind, by making him offerings of your desires, and all the good and evil that occur to you at any time. (_i.e._ submit to the dispensations of Providence). 15. O sage, that art acquainted with the sole unity, in the one uniform tenor of thy soul and mind, thou art thereby set above the reach of the miseries attending his frail life, as the pure crystal is clear of the shade and dross of all worldly things. CHAPTER XXXXI. VANITY OF WORLD AND WORLDLY THINGS. Argument.--Refutation of Received Doctrines. Vasishtha asked:--What is called the god Siva, and is meant by supreme Brahma; and what is the meaning of soul, and what is its difference from the supreme soul? 2. That the _tat sat_--_Id. est_ is the true entity, and all else is non entity; what is vacuum that is nothing, and what is philosophy that knows everything. Explain to me these differences, for thou lord! knowest them all. 3. The god replied:--There exist a _sat ens_, which is without beginning and end; and without any appearance, or reflexion of its own; and this entity appears as a non entity, owing to its imperceptibility by the senses. 4. Vasishtha rejoined--If this entity, lord! is not perceptible by the organs of sense, and unknowable by the understanding, how then, O Isána! is it to be known at all. 5. The god replied:--The man that desires his salvation, and yet sticks to his ignorance, is a sage by name only; and such men are subjected to greater ignorance, by the sástras they are guided by. 6. Let one ignorance removes another, as washerman cleanses one dirt by another. (_i.e._ Let the erroneous and mutually discordant theories of the sástras, refute the errors of one another). 7. When the error of ignorance, are removed by the opposition to each other; it is then that the soul appears of itself to view as a matter of course. 8. As a child daubs his fingers by rubbing one piece of coat against another (so is a man darkened the more by the tenets of contradictory sástras); but gets them cleansed by washing off his hands from both of them. 9. As they examine both sides of a question in a learned discussion, and the truth comes out from amidst them both, so the knowledge of the soul, appears from midst of the mist of ignorance. 10. When the soul perceives the soul, and scans it by itself; and as it comes to know it in itself, it is said to get rid of its ignorance, which is then said to be utterly destroyed. 11. The paths of learning and the lectures of a preceptor, are not the proper means to the knowledge of the soul, until one comes to know the unity of this thing by his own intuition. 12. All the preceptors of sástras, place the soul amidst the bodily senses; but Brahmá is situated beyond the senses, and is known after subjection of sensible organs. So the thing which is obtainable in absence of something, is never to be had in the presence of that thing (such is the antipathy of the soul and senses against one another). 13. It is seen however, that many things are used as causes of what they are no causes at all; as they make use of the lectures of the preceptor and the like, as means for the attainment of spiritual knowledge. 14. A course of lectures is of course calculated, to throw light on the student's knowledge of the knowables; but in matters of abstract knowledge and invisible soul, it is the soul itself that must throw its own light. 15. No explanation of the sástras, nor the lectures of the preceptor, are calculated to give light on spiritual knowledge, unless it is understood by the intuitive knowledge of the spirit itself. 16. Again the soul is never to be known without learning and lectures, and therefore both of them must combine with our inquiry to bring us to the light of the soul. 17. It is therefore the combination of bookish knowledge with the instruction of the preceptor, joined with the investigation of the inquirer, that is calculated to enlighten us on spiritual knowledge, as the appearance of the day with the rising sun and waking world, gives an impetus to the rise of duties of the rising world. 18. After subsidence of the senses and actions of bodily organs, together with the imperceptibility of our sensations of pain and pleasure; that we come to the knowledge of Siva, other wise known as the soul, the _tat sat_, He that is, and under many other designations. 19. When there was not this plenum of the world, or it existed in its spiritual or ideal forms; it is since then that this infinite entity has existed, in its vacuous form which is rarer than the ether. 20. Who is continually meditated upon by the nice discernment of the seekers of salvation, and is variously represented by the pure minded and those of vitiated minds. 21. There are others who are situated in the sight of, and not far from the path of living liberation, who are employed in leading others to salvation, and in the exposition of the sástras in their works. 22. There have been many thinking and learned men, who have used the words Brahmá, Indra, Rudra, and the names of the regents of worlds (for God), in order to justify the doctrines of the Puránas, Vedas and Siddhántas. 23. Others have applied the fictitious titles of chit or intellect, Brahmá, Siva, Átmá the soul or spirit, Ísha--the Lord, the supreme spirit and Íshvara-god, to the nameless god head that is apart and aloof from all. 24. Such is the truth of nature and of thyself also, which is styled the siva of felicitous; and which always confers all felicity to the world and to thyself also. (The word siva means jovus or solas and is meant to express the joviality and soliety which always attends on all beings). 25. The words siva, soul, supreme Brahmá and some others, have been coined by the ancients to express the supreme being; and though they differ in sound, there is no difference of them in sense and signification. 26. Know, O chief of sages! that wise men always adore this god whom we serve also, and unto when we return as the best and ultimate states of all. (Siva is a _hypostasis_ of the infinite deity). 27. Vasishtha said:--Please Lord! explain to me in short, how the ever existent Deity remains as non-existent, and could it come to existence from its prior state of nihility? 28. The god replied:--Know the meaning of the words Brahmá &c. to bear relation to our consciousness only, and this though it is as clear as the sky, and as minute as an atom, has the great bulk of the mount Meru contained in it. 29. Although this is unintelligible to us, and far beyond our conception and comprehension of it; yet it becomes intelligible to us when we take it the form of our intellect. 30. By taking it objectively, it becomes intelligible to us in the manner of our Egoism; and by thinking on its personality we have the same idea of it, as one has of a wild elephant from its sight in a dream. 31. These ideas of its egoism and personality, being limited by time and space, give rise to many aerial forms as attendants upon it. (These aerial forms are the different attributes of God). 32. Accompanied with these, there proceeds the entity called the _Jíva_ or living spirit, which is conversant with its oscillation and respiration, in the form of a pencil of air. 33. After the power of vitality is established and has come in force; there follows the faculty of understanding; which remains in utter ignorance at first. 34. It is followed by the faculties of bearing, action and perceptions; all of which operate inward by without their development in outward organs. 35. All these powers uniting together, conduce to the excitement of memory, which exhibits itself soon in the form of the mind; which is the tree of desires. 36. Hear now what is called the spiritual body by the learned, it is the inward power of God of the form of the conscious soul, and seeing the divine soul in itself. 37. There rise afterwards the following powers in the mind; which develop themselves in the outer organs, although their powers may be wanting in them. (Such as the blind eyes, deaf ears &c.). 38. These are the essences of air and motion, and of feeling also, together with the senses of touch and heat emitted by the eyes. 39. There are the essences of colour, water and taste also, and likewise the essences of smell and flavour too. 40. There are the essences of earth and gold, and the essences of thick mass; and also the essences of time and space, all of which are without form and shape. 41. The spiritual body contains all these essences in itself as its component parts, as the seed of a fruit contains the leaves and germ of the future tree in its cell. 42. Know this to be _ativáhika_ or spiritual body, and containing the eight elementary senses, wherefore it is called the _puryashtaka_ also; and these are developed afterwards in the organs of sense. 43. The primary or spiritual body which is formed in this manner, is actually nobody at all; since it is devoid of understanding, intellect, senses and sensibility. 44. It is the supreme Being only, which contains the essence of the soul, as it is the sea which contains the limpid waters. 45. The soul is that which is possessed of its consciousness and knowledge, all besides this is dull and insensible matter; and which is viewed by the soul, as the sight of a fairy land in the dream. 46. It is therefore by consciousness and knowledge that Siva can be known, and what is not to be known by these can be nothing at all. 47. The supreme soul sees all things within itself, as parts of itself (produced from its will of becoming or dividing itself into many); and beholds particles of his atomic self, formed into innumerable bodies. 48. These soon increased in bulk and became big bodies, and bore the marks of the organs upon them. 49. Then it became of the form of a man, from his thought of being so; and this soon grew up in its size of a full grown man. 50. So do our bodies appear to us in our living state, as the fairyland appears to one in his dream. 51. Vasishtha said:--I see the appearance of the human body, to resemble the vision of the fairyland in the dream; and I see also the miseries awaiting on human life in this world. Now tell me, my Lord! how all this misery is to be removed from it. 52. The god replied--All human woe is owing to their desires, and belief of the reality of the world; but it must be known to be all as unreal, as waves of water seen in a sea in the mirage. 53. There why such desire, and for what good and use, and why should the dreaming man be deluded to drink the show of water in the mirage? 54. The viewer of truth, who is freed from his views of egoism and tuism, and has got off from the deluded and its delusive thoughts, doth verily behold the true entity of God in his presence, in the utter absence of all worldly thoughts from his mind. 55. Where there is no desirer or desire or the desired object, but the only thought of the one unity, there is an end of all error and misery. 56. He whose mind is freed from the true and false bugbears of common and imaginary error, and is settled in the thought of one unity alone, sees nothing but the unity before him. 57. The desires of the mind, rise as goblins in the midway sky; and the thoughts of the world rove about the sphere of the mind, as the numerous worlds revolve in the sky hence there is no peace of the soul, unless these subside to rest. 58. It is useless to advise the man to wisdom, who is elated by his egoism, and is deluded by the waters of the mirage of this evanescent world. 59. Wise men should advise the prudent only, and throw away their instruction to boys that are wandering in error, and are shunned by good people. To give good counsel to the ignorant, is as offering a fair daughter in marriage to the spectre of man seen in a dream. CHAPTER XXXXII. THE SUPREME SOUL AND ITS PHASES AND NAMES Argument.--The various Processes whereby the supreme soul becomes the animal soul; and this again extending in all beings. Vasishtha said:--Tell me Lord! what is the state of the living soul, after its situation in the open air, and its observation of the vanity of the elemental and material body on its first creation. 2. The god replied--The living soul having sprung from the supreme, and being situated in the open firmament, views the body formed in the aforesaid manner, as a man sees a vision in his dream. 3. The living soul being ubiquitous, enters and acts in every part of this body, according to the behest of the embodied intellect, as a sleeping man acts his parts in a dream, and bears his body still. 4. It was the indiscrete infinite soul before, and then became the discrete spirit called the first male, and this spirit was the primary cause of creation in itself. 5. Thus this animated spirit became as Siva, at the beginning of the first creation; it was called Vishnu in another, and became the lotus born Brahmá or the great patriarch in the other. 6. This great progenitor of one creation, became the intellect in another, this became the volitive male agent of creation afterwards, and at last look upon it a male form according to its volition. 7. The primary volition of ideal creation becoming compact in time, it takes the form of the mind; which feels itself able to effect in act, whatsoever it wills in itself. (This form of the Mind is called Hiranyagarbha or Brahmá--the creative power of God). 8. This creation of the world by Brahmá is mere visionary, as the sight of a spectre in the air or in a dream; but it appears as a positive reality, to the erroneous sight of the realist. (_i.e._ The world is ideal to the idealist, but a sober reality to the positivist). 9. The prime male agent that becomes the beholder of his creation, retains in him the power of exhibiting himself (or displaying his will) in the empty air every moment, or to retract them in himself into time. 10. To him a Kalpa or great Kalpa age, is a mere twinkling of his eye; and it is by the expansion or contraction of himself, that the world makes its appearance or disappearance. 11. Worlds come to appear and disappear at his will, at each moment of time, in each particle of matter, and in every pore of space, and there is no end of this successions in all eternity. 12. Many things are seen to occur one after another, in conformity with the course of our desires; but we never find any thing to take place, in concurrence with our sight of the holy spirit. (_i.e._ Nothing is both temporally as well as spiritually good). 13. All things are created (and vanish) with this creation, which do not occur to the unchanging Siva; and these are like the shadowy appearances in empty air, which rise of themselves and disappear in air. 14. All real and unreal appearances vanish of themselves, like mountains appearing in dreams; all these creations have no command over their causality, space or time. 15. Therefore all these phenomenals are neither real, potential or imaginary or temporary appearances; nor is there any thing, that is produced or destroyed at any time. 16. All these are the wondrous phenomena of our ideas and wishes (sankalpas), exhibited by the intellect in itself; and this world is like the appearance of an aerial castle in the dream, and subject to its rise and fall by turns. 17. The visible which appears to be moving about in time and space, has actually no motion whatever in either; but remains as fixed as an ideal rock in the mind for ever. (The unreal world can have no actual motion). 18. So also the extension of the unreal world, is no extension at all; as the magnitude of an ideal rock has no dimension whatever. (Things in the abstract, have no imaginable measure). 19. The situation and duration of the unreal world, conform exactly with the ideas of its time and place, which exist in the mind of the maker of all (or the great Archetype). 20. It is in this manner that he is instantly changed to a worm (from his idea of it), and so are all the four orders of living beings born in this world. 21. Thus the curative power becomes all things, from the great Rudras down to the mean straws in a minute (from his ideas of these); and even such as are as minute as atoms and particles of matter (_i.e._ in the forms of the protozoa and small animalcula). 22. This is the course of the production of the past and present creations, and it is the reminiscence of the past, which is the cause of the delusion of taking the world for a real existence. 23. After giving away the thought of the difference between the creator and the created, and by the habit of thinking all as the unity, one becomes Siva in a minute, and by thinking so for a longer period, one is assimilated to the nature of the supreme Intellect. 24. The intellect proceeds from the original intellect (of God), and rises without occupying any place. It is of the nature of understanding, and resides in the soul in the manner of empty air in the midst of a stone. 25. The soul which is of the manner of eternal light, is known under the denomination of Brahmá and the intellect which seated in this (soul), becomes weakened as the creative power increase, and strengthens in it. (_i.e._ The power of the thinking intellect decreases in proportion, as the power of the creative mind is on its increase). 26. Next the particles of time and place, join together in the formation of minute atoms; which by forming the elementary bodies, have the living principle added to them. (These are called the protozoa or animalcules). 27. These then become vegetables and insects, and beasts, brutes and the forms of gods and demigods; and these being stretched out in endless series, remain as a long chain of being, connected by the strong and lengthening line of the soul, (called the sútrátmá). 28. Thus the great god that pervades over all his works in the world, connects all things in being and not being, as pearls in a necklace by the thread of his soul. He is neither near us nor even far from us; nor is he above or below anything whatever. He is neither the first nor last but ever lasting (having neither his beginning nor end). He is neither the reality or unreality, nor is he in the midst of these. 29. He is beyond all alternatives and antitheses, and is not to be known beyond our imaginary ideas of him. He has no measure or dimension, nor any likeness, form or form to represent him. Whatever greatness and majesty are attributed to him by men, they are all extinguished in his glory as the fire is cooled in the water. 30. Now, I have related to you all what you asked me about, and will now proceed to my desired place. Be you happy, O sage, and go your way; and rise, O Párvatí and let us take our way. 31. Vasishtha said:--When the god with his blue throat had spoken in this manner, I honoured him with throwing handfuls of flowers upon him. He then rose with his attendants, and pierced into the vacuity of heaven. 32. After departure of the lord of Umá, and master of the three worlds, I remained for some time reflecting on all I had heard from the god, and then having received the new doctrine with the purity of my heart, I gave up the external form of my worshipping the Deity. CHAPTER XXXXIII. ON REST AND TRANQUILLITY. Argument.--Ráma admits before Vasishtha the removal of his doubt in dualistic doctrine. Vasishtha said:--I well understand what the god said, and you too, O Ráma! know very well the course of the world. 2. When the false world appears in a false light to the fallacious understanding of man, and all proves to be but vanity of vanities, say what thing is there that may be called true and good and what as untrue and bad. (There is nothing what ever which is really good). 3. As the alternative of something is not that thing itself, so the optional form of the soul, though not the soul itself, yet it serves to convey some idea of the soul. (As the explanation of the gloss is;--The similitude of a thing though not the thing itself, yet it gives some idea of the original). 4. As fluidity is the nature of liquids, and fluctuation is that of the winds, and as vacuity is the state of the sky, so is creation the condition of the spirit or divine soul. 5. I have ever since (hearing the lecture of Sivá), betaken myself to the worship of the spirit in spirit; and have since then, given up my eagerness for the outward adoration of gods. 6. It is by this rule that I have passed these days of my life, though I am tamely employed in the observance of the prescribed and popular ritual. 7. I have worshipped the Divine spirit, in all modes and forms and offering of flowers, as they presented of themselves to me; and notwithstanding the interruptions, I have uninterruptedly adored my god at all times, both by day and night. 8. All people in general, are concerned in making their offerings acceptable to their receiver (god), but it is the meditation of the yogi, which is the true adoration of the spirit. 9. Having known this, O lord of Raghu's race, do you abandon the society of men in your heart, and walk in your lonely path amidst the wilderness of the world, and thereby remain without sorrow and remorse. 10. And when exposed or reduced to distress, or aggrieved at the loss or separation of friends, rely on this truth, and think on the vanity of the world. 11. We should neither rejoice nor regret, at the acquisition or loss of friends and relations; because all things almost are so frail and unstable, in this transitory world. 12. You well know, Ráma! the precarious state of worldly possessions and their pernicious effects also; they come and go away of their own accord, but overpower on the man in both states (of prosperity and adversity). 13. So uncertain are the favours of friends and fortune, and so unforeseen is their loss also, that it is no way possible for any body to account for them. (_i.e._ to assign any plausible cause to either). 14. O sinless Ráma! such is the course of the world, that you have no command over it nor is it ever subject to you; if the world is so insubordinate to you, why is it then that you should be sorry for so unmanageable a thing? 15. Ráma! mind your spiritual nature, and know yourself as an expanded form of your intellect. See how you are pent up in your earthly frame, and forsake your joy and grief at the repeated reiterations and exits of your corporeal body. 16. Know my boy, that you are of the form of your intellect only, and inherent throughout all nature; therefore there is nothing that you can resume to or reject from you in the world. 17. What cause of joy or grief is there in the vicissitudes of things in the world, which are occasioned by the revolutions of the mind on the pivot of the intellect; and resemble the whirling waters of the sea, caused by an eddy or vortex in it. 18. Do you, O Ráma! betake yourself to the fourth stage of _susupta_ or hypnotism hence forth, as the even tenor of the intellect, is attended by its trance at the end. 19. Be you as cold and composed with your placid countenance and expanded mind, as the quiet spirit of God is diffused and displayed through out all nature; and remains as full as the vast ocean, in the contemplation of that soul, whose fulness fills the whole. 20. You have heard all this already, Ráma! and are fraught with the fulness of your understanding, now if you have any thing else to ask with regard to your former question, you can propose the same. (This was a question regarding the observance of ceremonial rites). 21. Ráma said:--Sir, my former doubts are all dispersed at present, and I have nothing more to ask you regarding the same (_i.e._ the dualistic doctrine that raised the doubts). 22. I have known all that is to be known, and felt a heartfelt satisfaction at this, and now I am free from the foulness of the objective, and of dualism and fictions. (Knowledge of the objective being unspiritual, the dualism of matter and mind as unscriptual, and the fictions of the gods etc., as mere vagaries of imagination). 23. The foulness of the soul, proceeds from ignorance of the soul; and this ignorance (of the subjective self), which had darkened my soul, is now removed by the light of spirituality. 24. I was under the error (of the mortality and materiality of the soul), which I have now come to understand, is neither foul matter, nor is it born or dies at any time. (_i.e._ It is immaterial, unproduced and immortal). 25. I am now confirmed in my belief, that all this is Brahmá diffused through out nature (in his all pervasive form _vivartarúpá_); and I have ceased from all doubts and questions on the subject, nor have I the desire of knowing any thing more about it. (He desires to know nothing, who beholds the lord in every thing). 26. My mind is now as pure, as the purified water of filtering machine; and am no more in need of learning any thing, from the preachings and moral lessons of the wise. 27. I am unconcerned with all worldly affairs, as the mount Sumeru is insensible of the golden ores in its bosom and having all things about me, I am quite indifferent to them; because I have not what I expect to have, nor do I possess the object of my fond desire. 28. I expect nothing that is desirable, nor reject any thing which is exceptionable; nor is there a mean in the interim of the two in this world, because there is nothing that is really acceptable or avoidable in it, nor anything which is truly good or bad herein. 29. Thus, O sage, the erroneous thought of these contraries, is entirely dissipated from me; wherefore I neither care for a seat in heaven, nor fear the terrors of the infernal regions. 30. I am as fixed in the selfsame spirit, as the mount Mandárá is firmly seated amidst the sea, and which scatters its particles throughout the three worlds, as that mountain splashed the particles of water in its state of churning the ocean. 31. I am as firm as the fixed Mandárá, while others are wandering in their errors of discriminating the positive and negative and the true and false, in their wrong estimation. 32. The heart of that man must be entangled with the weeds of doubts, who thinks in his mind the world to be one thing, and the Divine spirit as another. (This duality is the root of doubts in the one ultimate unity). 33. He that seeks for his real good in any thing in this world, never finds the same in the unsubstantial material world, which is full of the confused waves of the eternity. 34. It is by your favour, O venerable sir, that I have got over the boisterous ocean of this world; and having the limits of its perilous coasts, have come to the shore of safety and found the path of my future prosperity. 35. I am no more wanting in that supreme felicity, which is the summum bonum of all things; and am full in myself as the lord of all. And I am quite indomitable by any body, since I have defeated the wild elephant of my covetousness. 36. Being loosened from the chain of desire, and freed from the fetters of option, I am rich and blest with the best of all things, and this is the internal satisfaction of my soul and mind, which gives me a cheerful appearance in all the triple world. CHAPTER XXXXIV. INQUIRY INTO THE ESSENCE OF THE MIND. Argument.--On the means of forsaking all connections and desires, and the subjection of the mind by spiritual knowledge. Vasishtha said:--Ráma! whatever acts you do with your organs of action and without application of the mind to the work in hand, know such work to be no doing of yours. (An involuntary action is not accounted as the act of one, in absence of his will in it). 2. Who does not feel a pleasure at the time of his achieving an action, which he did not feel a moment before, nor is likely to perceive the next moment after he has done the work. (Therefore it is the attention of the mind which gives pleasure to an action, and which is not to be felt in absence of that attention, both before and after completion of the act). 3. The pleasure of a thing is accompanied only with the desire of its passion, and not either prior or posterior to the same; therefore it is boyish and not manliness to take any delight in a momentary pleasure. (All pleasure and pain are concomitant with their thoughts only; and these being fleeting there is no lasting pleasure or pain in anything). 4. Whatever is pleasant during its desire, has that desire only for the cause of its pleasantness: hence the pleasurableness of a thing lasting till its unpleasurableness is no real pleasure; wherefore this frail pleasure must be forsaken together with its temporary cause of desire by the wise. 5. If you have arrived to that high state (of knowing the universality of the soul); then be careful for the future, and merge yourself no more in the narrow pit of your personality. 6. You who have now found your rest and repose, in being seated in the highest pinnacle of spiritual knowledge (by cognoscence of yourself); must not allow your soul any more, to plunge in the deep and dark cave of your egoistic individuality. 7. Thus seated on the pitch of your knowledge, as on the top of the Meru mountain; and remembering the glorious prospect all around you; you cannot choose to fall down into the hellpit of this earth, and to be reborn in the darksome cave of a mother's womb. (Because the living soul is doomed to transmigration and regeneration until its final liberation). 8. It appears to me, O Ráma! that you are of an even temperament, and have the quality of truth (satyaguna) full in your nature; I understand you have weakened your desires, and have entirely got over your ignorance. 9. You appear to be settled in your nature of purity, and the temperament of your mind appears to me to be as calm and quiet as the sea, when it is full and untroubled by the rude and rough winds of heaven. 10. May your expectations set at ease, and your wants terminate in contentment, let your dementation turn to rightmindedness, and live unconnected with and aloof from all. 11. Whatever objects you come to see placed before you, know the same as full of the Divine intellect, which is consolidated and extended through all, as their common essence. (The solid intellect forming the body, and its rarity the mind. "That extended through all yet in all the same; great in the earth as in the etherial frame", Pope). 12. One ignorant of the soul, is fast bound to his ignorance; and one acquainted with the soul, is liberated from his bondage. Hence, O Ráma! learn to meditate constantly and intensely, the supreme soul in your own soul. 13. It is indifference which wants to enjoy nothing, nor yet refuses the enjoyment of whatever presents of itself to any body; and know inappetency to consist in the cool calmness of the mind, resembling the serenity of the sky. (_Insouciance_ is the want of desire and renunciation of prurience and not the abdication of enjoyment). 14. Preserve the cold listlessness of your mind, and discharge your duties with the cool application of your organs of action; and this unconcernedness of your mind, will render you as steady as the sky at all accidents of life. 15. If you can combine the knower, knowable and the knowledge (_i.e._ all the three states of the subjective, objective and the intermediate percipience) in your soul alone; you will then feel the tranquillity of your spirit and shall have no more to feel the troubles of sublunary life. 16. It is the expansion and contraction of the mind, that causes the display and dissolution of the world; try therefore to stop the action of thy mind, by restraining the breaths of thy desire in thyself. 17. So it is the breath of life, which conducts and stops the business of the world, by its respiration and rest; restrain therefore the breathing of the vital air, by thy practice of the regulation of thy breathing (as dictated before). 18. So also it is the act of ignorance to give rise to ceremonious works, as it is that of knowledge to repress them; Do you therefore boldly put them down by your own forbearance, and the instructions you derive from the sástras and your preceptors. 19. As the winds flying with dust, darken the fair face of the sky; so the intellect being daubed with the intelligibles (the subjective soiled with the objective), obscure the clear visage of the soul. 20. The action of the relation between the vision and visibles (_i.e._ the mutual of the eyesight and outward objects on one another), causes the appearance of the world and its course; as the relation that there exists between the solar rays and formations of things, makes them appear in various colours to the eye. (Neither the course of the world, nor the appearance of colour is in real being, but is owing to the relative combination of things). 21. But the want of this relativity removes the phenomenals from sight, as the want of light takes away the colours of things. (The former is an instance of the affirmative kind (anvayi); and the latter a vyatireki or negative one). 22. The oscillation of the mind causes the illusions, as the palpitation of the heart raises the affections, and they are all at a stop at the suspension of the actions of these organs. So the waves raised by motion of waters and action of the winds, subside in the deep, by cessation of the actions of these elements. (The question is whether the affections are not causes of the palpitation of the heart?). 23. The abandonment of every jot of desire, the suspension of respiration, and the exercise of intellection, will contract the actions of the heart and mind, and thereby prevent the rise of the passions and affections and of illusions also. (Entire dispassionateness is the perfection of yoga asceticism). 24. The unconsciousness which follows the inaction of the heart and mind, in consequence of the suspension of the vital breath is the highest perfection (of yoga philosophy). 25. There is a pleasure in respect to the vision of visibles, which is common to all living being; but this being felt spiritually, amounts to holy pleasure _paramánanda_. But the sight of God in one's consciousness, which is beyond the province of the mind; transcends the mental pleasure, and affords a divine ecstacy, called the Brahmánanda. 26. The mind being dormant and insensible, affords the true rapture of the soul; and such as it is not to be had even in heaven, as it is not possible to have a refrigeratory or cooling bath in the sandy desert. 27. The inertness of the heart and mind is attended with a delight, which is felt in the inmost soul and cannot be uttered in words; it is an everlasting joy that has neither its rise nor fall, nor its increase or decrease. (It is the lasting sunshine and unchanging moonlight of the soul). 28. Right understanding weakens the sensuous mind (by the blaze of rationality), but wrong understanding serves to increase its irrational sensuousness only. It then sees the thickening mists of error, rising as spectres and apparitions before the sight of boys. 29. Though the sensational mind is existent in us, yet it seems as quite inexistent and extinct before the light of our rationality, as the substance of copper appears to disappear by being melted with gold. (The carnal mind is converted to the rational understanding by its association with it). 30. The mind of the wise is not the sensuous mind, because the wise mind is an essence of purity by itself; thus the sensible mind is changed in its name and nature to that of the understanding, as the copper is converted to the name and nature of gold. 31. But it is not possible for the mind to be absorbed at once in the intellect, its errors only are moved by right understanding, but its essence is never annihilated. (As the alloy of copper in gold). 32. Things taken as symbols of the soul, are all unsubstantial as the mind and vital principle; all which are as unreal as the horns of a hare (which are never known to grow). They are but reflexions of the soul, and vanish from view after the soul is known. (The mind is said to be an expansion of the soul [Sanskrit: átmanívivartta rúpam|]). 33. The mind has its being for a short time only, during its continuance in the world; but after it has passed its fourth stage of insensibility, it arrives to the state of comatosity which is beyond the fourth stage. 34. Brahmá is all even and one, though appearing as many amidst the errors that reign over the world; He is the soul of all and has no partial or particular form of any kind. He is not the mind or any thing else, nor is He situated in the heart (as a finite being). (Gloss:--The Divine Soul like the human mind has conceptions of endless things, which are neither situated in it nor parts of itself, but are as empty phantoms in the air). CHAPTER XXXXV. STORY OF THE VILVA OR BELFRUIT. Argument.--God represented as the Belfruit or Wood apple; containing the Worlds as its seeds. Vasishtha said:--Attend now, O Ráma! to a pleasant story, which was never told before, and which I will briefly narrate to you for your instruction and wondrous amusement. 2. There is a big and beautiful _vilva_ or _bel_ fruit, as large as the distance of many myriads of miles, and as solid as not to ripen or rot in the course of as many many ages. 3. It bears a lasting flavour as that of sweet honey or celestial ambrosia; and though grown old yet it increases day by day like the crescent new moon, with its fresh and beautiful foliage. 4. This tree is situated in the midst of the universe, as the great Meru is placed in the middle of the earth; it is as firm and fixed as the Mandara mountain, and is immovable even by the force of the diluvian winds. 5. Its root is the basis of the world, and it stretches to the distance of immeasurable extent on all sides. 6. There were millions of worlds all within this fruit as its un-countable seeds; and they were as minute in respect to the great bulk of the fruit, that they appeared as particles of dust at foot of a mountain. 7. It is filled and fraught with all kinds of delicacies, that are tasteful and delicious to the six organs of sense; and there is not one even of the six kinds of savoury articles, that is wanting in this fruit. 8. The fruit is never found in its green or unripe state, nor is it ever known to fall down ever over-ripened on the ground; it is ever ripe of itself, and is never rotten or dried or decayed at any time by age or accident. 9. The gods Brahmá, Vishnu and Rudra, are not sempiternal with this tree in their age, nor do they know aught of the origin and root of this tree, nor anything about its extent and dimensions. 10. None knows the germ and sprout of this tree, and its buds and flowers are invisible to all. There is no stem or trunk or bough or branch, of the tree that bears this great fruit. 11. This fruit is a solid mass of great bulk, and there is no body that has seen its growth, change or fall. (It is ever ripe without ripening or rotting at any time). 12. This is the best and largest of all fruits, and having no pith nor seed, is always sound and unsoiled. 13. It is as dense as the inside of a stone in its fullness, and as effluent of bliss as the disk of the moon, drizzling with its cooling beams; it is full of flavour and distils its ambrosial draughts to the conscious souls of men. 14. It is source of delight in all beings, and it is the cause of the cooling moon-beams by its own brightness; It is the solid rock of all security, the stupendous body of felicity, and contains the pith and marrow that support and sustain all living souls, which are the fruits of the prior acts of people. (_i.e._ The souls of all beings are as fruits formed according to the nature and merit of their previous acts--karma, and all these souls are filled with delight by the great soul of God). 15. Therefore that transcendent pith which is the wonder of souls, is contained in the Infinite spirit of God, and deposited and preserved in that auspicious fruit--_sriphala_--the bel or wood apple. 16. It is deposited with its wondrous power in that small _bel_ fruit, which represents the human as well as the divine soul, without losing its properties of thinness and thickness and freshness for ever. (_i.e._ All the divine powers--of evolution are lodged in the soul). 17. The thought that 'I am this', clothes the unreality with a gross form (as the thought of a devil gives the unreal phantom a foul figure); and though it is absurd to attribute differences to nullities, yet the mind makes them of itself and then believes its fictitious creatures as real ones. 18. The Divine ego contains in itself the essential parts of all things set in their proper order, as the vacuity of the sky is filled with the minute atoms, out of which the three worlds did burst forth with all their varieties. (So the substance of the bel fruit, contains the seeds of the future trees and all their several parts in it). 19. In this manner there grew the power of consciousness in its proper form, and yet the essence of the soul retains its former state without exhausting itself. (It means that notwithstanding the endless evolutions of the Divine soul, its substance ever continues the same and is never exhausted). 20. The power of consciousness being thus stretched about (from its concentration in itself), makes it perceive the fabric of the world and its great bustle in its tranquil self. (It means how the subjective consciousness is changed to the objective). 21. It views the great vacuum on all sides, and counts the parts of time as they pass away; it conceives a destiny which directs all things, and comes to know what is action by its operation. 22. It finds the world stretching as the wish of one, and the sides of heaven extending as far as the desires of men; it comes to know the feelings of love and hatred, and the objects of its liking and dislike. 23. It understands its egoism and non-egoism or tuism, or the subjective and objective and views itself in an objective light, by forgetting its subjectivity. It views the worlds above and being itself as high as any one of them, finds itself far below them. (The human soul though as elevated as the stars of heaven, becomes as low as a sublunary being by its baseness). 24. It perceives one thing to be placed before, and another to be situated beside it; it finds some thing to be behind, and others to be near or afar from it; and then it comes to know some things as present and others as past or yet to come before it. (The soul losing its omniscience has a partial view of things). 25. Thus the whole world is seen to be situated as a play house in it, with various imaginary figures brightening as lotuses in a lake. 26. Our consciousness is seated in the pericarp of the lotus of our hearts, with the knowledge of our endless desires budding about it, and viewing the countless worlds turning round like a rosary of lotus seeds. 27. Its hollow cell like the firmaments is filled with the great Rudras, who rove about in the distant paths of the midway sky, like comets falling from above with their flaming tails. (The vedas describe the Rudras as blue necked &c. (nílagríváh). These worshipful gods of the vedas are found to be no other than wondrous phenomena of the vacuity which are deified in the Elementary religion of the ancients). 28. It has the great mount of Meru situated in its midst, like the bright pericarp amidst the cell of the lotus flower. The moon capt summit of this mount is frequented by the immortals, who wander about it like wanton bees in quest of the ambrosial honey distilled by the moon beams on high. (The gloss places the Meru in the northern region of the distant pole, while the Puránas place it in the midst of the earth). It was the resort of the gods as also the early cradle of the pristine Aryans, who are represented as gods. 29. Here is the tree of the garden of Paradise with its clusters of beautiful flowers, diffusing their fragrance all around; and there is the deadly tree of the old world, scattering its pernicious farina for culling us to death and hell. (The gloss explains _rajas_ or flower dust as our worldly acts, which lead us to the hell torments of repeated transmigrations). 30. Here the stars are shining, like the bright filaments of flowery arbors, growing on the banks of the wide ocean of Brahma; and there is the pleasant lake of the milky path, in the boundless space of vacuity. 31. Here roll the uncontrolled waves of the ceremonial acts, fraught with frightful sharks in their midst, and there are the dreadful whirlpools of worldly acts, that whirl mankind in endless births for ever more. 32. Here runs the lake of time in its meandering course for ever, with the broad expanse of heaven for its blooming blossom; and having the moments and ages for its leaves and petals, and the luminaries of sun, moon and stars for its bright pistils and filaments. 33. Here it sees the bodies of living beings fraught with health and disease, and teeming with old age, decay and the torments of death; and there it beholds the jarring expositions of the sástras, some delighting in their knowledge of spiritual Vidyá, and others rambling in the gloom of Ignorance--Avidyá (which leads them from error to error). 34. In this manner doth our inner consciousness, represent the wonders contained in the pulp of the _vilva_ fruit; which is full of the unsubstantial substance of our desires and wishes, and the pithless marrow of our false imagination. 35. It sees many that are tranquil, calm, cool and dispassionate, and who are free from their restraints and desires; they are heedless of both their activity and inactivity, and do not care for works whether done or left undone by them. 36. Thus this single consciousness presents her various aspects, though she is neither alone nor many of herself, except that she is what she is. She has in reality but one form of peaceful tranquillity; though she is possest of the vast capacity of conceiving in herself all the manifold forms of things at liberty. CHAPTER XXXXVI. PARABLE OF THE STONY SHEATH OF THE SOUL. Argument.--The divine mind is the substratum of the totality of existence. Ráma said:--Venerable sir, that knowest the substance of all truths; I understand the parable of bel fruit which you have just related to me to bear relation to the essence of the compact intellect, which is the only unit and identic with itself. 2. The whole plenitude of existence together with the personalities of I, thou, this and that form the plenum (or substance), of the intellect; and there is not the least difference between them, as this is one thing and that another. (All this is but one undivided whole, whose body nature is and God the soul. Pope). 3. Vasishtha answered--As this mundane egg or universe is likened to a gourd fruit, containing the mountains and all other things as its inner substance; so doth the intellect resemble the bel fruit or the grand substratum, that contains even the universe as the kernel inside it. 4. But though the world has no other receptacle beside the Divine intellect, yet it is not literally the kernel inside that crust (_i.e._ the substance of that substratum in its literal sense). Because the world has its decay, decline and dissolution also in time, but none of these belong to the nature of the everlasting mind of God. 5. The intellect resembles the hard coating of the pepper seed, containing the soft substance of its pith inside it, and is likened also to block of stone, bearing the sculptured figures peacefully sleeping in it. (All things are engraven in the divine mind). 6. Here me relate to you, O moon faced Ráma! another pleasant story in this place which will appear equally charming as well as wondrous to you. (It is the story of stone like Brahma). 7. There is a huge block of stone somewhere, which is as big as it is thick and solid; it is bright and glossy, and cold and smooth to touch; it never wastes or wears out, nor becomes dark and dim. 8. There are many full blown lotuses, and unnumbered buds of water lilies, growing amidst the limpid lake of water, contained within the bosom of this wondrous stone. (It means that the mind of God has all these images of things engraved in it as in a stone). 9. There are many other plants growing also in that lake, some with their long and broad caves and others with their alternate and joint foliums likewise. 10. There are many flowers with their up lifted and down cast heads, and others with their petals hanging before them; some having a combined or common footstalk, and others growing separate and apart from one another; some are concealed and others manifest to view. 11. Some have their roots formed of the fibres of the pericarp, and some have their pericarps growing upon the roots (as orchids), some have their roots on the tops and others at the foot of trees, while there are many without their roots at all: (as the parasite plants). 12. There are a great many conch shells about these, and unnumbered diseases also strewn all about. 13. Ráma said:--All this is true, and I have seen this large stone of sálgráma in my travels; and I remember it to be placed in the shrine of Vishnu, amidst a bed of lotus flowers. (The sálgráma stone is perforated by the vajra-kíta, and contains many marks inside it, resembled to the map of the world in the mundane egg of the divine mind. See vajra-kíta in the works of Sir William Jones). 14. Vasishtha replied:--You say truly, that you have seen that great stone and know its inside also; but do you know the unperforated and hollowless stone of the divine mind, that contains the universe in its concavity, and is the life of all living beings (and not the dull, lifeless and hollow sálagráma stone which they worship as an emblem of the divine mind). 15. The stone of which I have been speaking to you, is of a marvelous and supernatural kind; and contains in its voidless bosom all things as nothing. (_i.e._ the ideas and not substances of things). 16. It is the stone like intellect of which I have spoken to you, and which contains all these massive worlds within its spacious sphere. It is figuratively called a stone from its solidity, cohesive impenetrability and indivisibility like those of a block. 17. This solid substance of the intellect, notwithstanding its density and unporousness, contains all the worlds in itself, as the infinite space of heaven is filled with the subtile and atmospheric air. (The divine mind like external nature, is devoid of a vacuity in it, according to the common adage: "Nature abhors a vacuum"). 18. The mind is occupied with all its various thoughts, as the world is filled by the earth and sky, the air and atmosphere, and the mountains and rivers on all sides, there is not hole or hollow, which is not occupied by some thing or other in it. 19. The solid soul of God which resembles this massive stone, contains in it all these worlds which are displayed (to our deluded sight), as so many beds of lotuses in their blooming beauty; and yet there is nothing so very pure and unsullied as this solid crystalline soul. (The soul like a crystal, reflects its light in various forms). 20. As it is the practice of men to paint blocks of stones, with the figures of lotuses, conch shells and the like images; so it is the tendency of the fanciful mind, to picture many fantastic of all times in the solid rock of the soul. (The soul like a crystal stone is wholly blank in itself, it is only the imaginative mind, that tinges it in different shades and colours). 21. All things in the world appear to be situated exactly in the same state, as the various figures carved on the breast of a stone, seem to be separate though they are bellied in the same relief. (All distinctions blend in the same receptacle). 22. As the carved lotus is not distinct from the body of the stone, so no part of existence is set apart from the substantiality of the divine intellect; which represents its subtile ideas in their condensed forms. 23. This formal creation is as inseparable from the formless intellect of God, as the circular forms of lotus flowers which are carved in a stone, are not separate from the great body of the shapeless stone. 24. These endless chains of worlds, are all linked up in the boundless intellect of the Deity; in the same manner as the clusters of lotus flowers are carved together in a stone; and as a great many seeds, are set together in the inside of a long pepper. 25. These revolving worlds have neither their rise nor fall in the sphere of the infinite intellect, but they remain as firm as the kernel of a _bel_ fruit, and as fixed as the fidelity of a faithful wife. 26. The revolution of worlds and their changing scenes, that are seen to take place in their situation in the Divine Intellect, do not prove the changeableness of the all containing Infinite Mind, because its contents of finite things are so changeable in their nature. (The container is not necessarily of the nature of its contents). 27. All these changes and varieties subside at last in the divine intellect, as the waves and drops of water sink down in the Sea; and the only change which is observable in the Supreme Intellect, is its absorption of all finite changes into its infinity. (All finite forms and their temporary transformations, terminate finally into infinity). 28. The word (Fiat) that has produced this all, causes their changes and dissolutions also in itself. Know then that Brahma from whom this _fiat_ and these changes have sprung, and all these being accompanied with Brahma and the original fiat, the word change is altogether meaningless. (There is no new change from what is ordained from the beginning). 29. Brahma being both the mainspring as well as the main stay of all changes in nature; He is neither excluded from or included under any change, which occur in the sphere of his immensity (_i.e._ the spirit of God being the unchanging source of all phenomenal changes, is not exempted from the mutations that occur in his infinity. So says the poet: "These as they change are but the varied God &c." Thompson). 30. And know this in one or other of the two senses, that the change of the divine spirit in the works of creation, resembles the change or development of the seed into its stem, fruits and flowers and other parts; or that it is a display of delusion _máyá_ like the appearance of water in the mirage. (Here the changing scenes of nature, are viewed in both lights of evolution and illusion). 31. As the substance of seed goes on gradually transforming itself into the various states of its development, so the density of the divine intellect (or spirit) condenses itself the more and more in its production of solid and compact world, and this is the course of the formation of the cosmos by slow degrees. 32. The union of the seed with the process of its development forms the duality, that is destroyed by the loss of either of these. It is imagination only that paints the world as a dull material thing, when there is no such grossness in the pure intellect. (The gloss explains this passage to mean that, It is the doctrine of dualists to maintain the union of the productive seed or spirit of God, with the act of producing the material world to be coeternal, and the one becomes null without the other, but this tenet is refuted on the ground of the impossibility of the Combination of the immaterial with the material, whence the material world is proved to be a nullity and mere illusion). 33. The intellect and dull matter cannot both combine together, nor can the one be included under the other, therefore the ideal world resembles the marks inscribed in the stone and no way different in their natures. 34. As the pith and marrow of a fruit, is no other than the fruit itself; so the cosmos forms the gist of the solid intellect, and no way separable from the same; which is like a thick stone containing marks, undermarks, underlined under one another. 35. So we see the three worlds lying under one another, in the womb of the unity of God; as we behold the sleeping and silent marks of lotuses and conch shells, inscribed in the hollow of a stone. 36. There is no rising nor setting (_i.e._ the beginning or end), of the course of the world (in the mind of God); but every thing is as fixed and immovable in it, as the inscription carved in a stone. 37. It is the pith and marrow of the divine intellect, that causes the creative power and the act of creation; as it is the substance of the stone, that produces and reduces the figures in the stone. 38. As the figures in the stone, have no action or motion of their own; so the agents of the world have no action of theirs, nor is this world ever created or destroyed at any time (but it continues for ever as carved in the mind of God). 39. Every thing stands as fixed in the mind of God, as if they were the firm and immovable rocks; and all have their forms and positions in the same manner as they are ordained and situated in the Divine Mind. 40. All things are filled with the essence of God, and remain as somnolent in the Divine mind; the various changes and conditions of things that appear to us in this world, are the mere vagaries of our erroneous fancy; for every thing is as fixed and unchanged in the mind of God, as the dormant images on a stone. 41. All actions and motions of things are as motionless in mind of God, as the carved lie asleep in the hollow of a stone. It is the wrong superfluous view of things, that presents to us all these varieties and changes; but considered in the true and spiritual light, there is neither body nor any change that presents itself to our sight. CHAPTER XXXXVII. LECTURE ON THE DENSITY OF THE INTELLECT. Argument.--Interpretation of the Intellect compared with the Belfruit and carved stone and its further comparison with the Egg of a Peahen. Vasishtha continued:--The great category of the Intellect which is compared with the _bel_ fruit or wood apple, contains the universe as its own matter and marrow within itself; and it broods upon the same: as in its dream (by forgetfulness of its own nature of omniscience before which everything is present). 2. All space and time and action and motion being but forms of itself, there can be no distinction of them in the intellect. (Hence every part of creation and all created things, are but composite parts of the intellect). 3. All words and their senses, and all acts of volition, imagination and perception, being actions of the intellect, they can not be unrealities in any respect. (Nothing proceeding from the real one is ever unreal). 4. As the substance contained in a fruit, passes under the several names of the kernel, pith and marrow and seeds; so the pith and marrow of the solid intellect being but one and the same thing, takes many names according to their multifarious forms. 5. A thing though the same, has yet different names according to its different states and changes of form; and as it is with the contents of a fruit, so it is with the subjects included under the intellect. 6. The intellect reflects its image in the mirror of the world, as these sculptured images are exprest in a slab of stone. 7. The brilliant gem of the supreme intellects produces myriads of worlds in itself; as the gem of your minds casts the reflection of every object of our desire and imagination. 8. The casket of the intellect contains the spacious world, which is set in it as a big pearl of vast size; it is but a part of the other, though appearing as distinct and different from the other. 9. The intellect is situated as the shining sun, to illumine all things in the world; it brings on the days and nights by turns, to show and hide them to and from our view. 10. As the waters of an eddy whirl and hurl down into the vortex of the sea, so do these worlds roll and revolve in the cavity of the intellect; and though its contents are of the same kind, yet they appear as different from one another as the pulps and seeds of fruits. 11. The body of the stone like intellect contains the marks of whatever is existent in present creation; as also of all that is inexistent at present (_i.e._ the marks of all past and future creation. The omniscience of the divine intellect has all thing present before it, whether they are past and gone or to come to being hereafter). 12. All real essence is the substance of the apple-like Intellect, whether it is in being or not being and all objects whether _in esse_ or _non esse_, obtain their form and figure according to the pith and marrow of that intellectual fruit. (All outward forms are the types of the intellectual archetype). 13. As the lotus loses its own and separate entity by its being embodied in the stone, so do all these varieties of existence lose their difference by their being engrossed into the unity of the intellectual substance. 14. As the diversity of the lotus changes to the identity of the stone, by its union with and entrance into its cavity; so the varieties of creation, become all one in the solid mass of the Divine Intellect. 15. As the mirage appears to be a sheet of water to the thirsty deer, while it is known to the intelligence to be the reflexion of the solar rays on the sandy desert; so does the reality appear as unreal and the unreal as real to the ignorant; while in truth there is neither the one nor the other here, except the images of the Divine Mind. 16. As the body of waters fluctuates itself (owing to the fluidity of the element); so is there oscillation in the solidity of the Divine Intellect (owing to its spiritual nature). 17. The lotuses and conch-shells are of the same substance, as the stone in which they are carved and engraved; but the world and all its contents that contained in the intellect, are neither of the same substance nor of the same nature (because of their perishableness). 18. Again the big block of stone which serves for the comparison of the divine Intellect, is itself contained in the same; and while the figures of the former are carved out of its body, those of the latter are eternally inherent in it. 19. This creation of God is as bright as the autumnal sky, and it is as fair as the liquid beams of the moon. (It means to say, says the gloss, that God shines in his form of the world jagat-Brahmá or God identified with the world which is the doctrine of cosmotheism). 20. The world is eternally situated in God, as the figures in the stone which are never effaced; the world is as inseparably connected with the Deity, as the god head of god with himself. 21. There is no difference of these, as there is none between the tree and its plant; all the worlds that are seen all abouts, are not disjoined from Divine Intellect. 22. These as well as the Intellect have neither their production nor destruction at any time, because of their subsistence in the spirit of God, which shows them in their various forms, as the heat of the sun exhibits a sheet of water in the sandy desert. 23. The world with all its solid rocks, trees and plants, dissolves into the Divine Intellect at the sight of the intelligent, as the hard hail stones are seen to melt into the liquid and pure water. (All solids vanish into subtle air). 24. As the water vanishes into the air, and that again into vacuum, so do all things pass away to the supreme spirit; and again it is the consolidation of the Intellect, that forms the solid substances of hills, plants and all tangible things. (Condensation as well as rarefaction, are both of them but acts of the great mind of God). 25. The pith that is hidden in the minute substance, becomes the marrow in its enlarged state; so the flavor of things which is concealed in the atoms, becomes perceptible in their density with their growth. 26. The power of God resides in the same manner in all corporeal things, as the properties of flavours and moisture are inherent in the vegetable creation. (Hence Brahmá is said to be the pith or moisture of all--_rasovaitata_). 27. The same power of God manifests itself in many forms in things, as the self same light of the sun shows itself in variegated colours of things, according to the constitution of their component particles. 28. The supreme soul shows itself in various ways in the substance and properties of things, as the Divine Intellect represents the forms of mountains and all other things in the changeful mind. 29. As the soft and liquid yolk of the egg of a peahen, contains in it the toughness and various colours of the future quills and feathers; so there are varieties of all kinds inhering in the Divine Intellect, and requiring to be developed in time. 30. As the versicolour feathers of a peacock's train, are contained in the moisture within the egg; so the diversity of creation is ingrained in the Divine mind (as it is said in the parable of the Peahen's egg). 31. The judicious observer will find the one self same Brahmá, to be present every where before his sight; and will perceive his unity amidst all diversity, as in the yolk of the peahen. 32. The knowledge of the unity and duality of God, and that of his containing the world in himself; is also as erroneous as the belief in the entity and nonentity of things. Therefore all these are to be considered as the one and same thing and identic with one another. (This is cosmotheism). 33. Know him as the supreme, who is the source of all entity and non-entity, and on whose entity they depend; whose unity comprises all varieties, which appear as virtual and are no real existences. (Hence the gloss deduces the corollary, that the unreal or negative is subordinate to the positive, and the variety to the unity). 34. Know the world to be compressed under the category of the Intellect, as the Intellect also is assimilated with the works of creation; in the same manner as is the relation of the feather and moisture, the one being the production and the other the producer of one another. 35. The mundane egg resembles the peahen's egg, and the spirit of God is as the yolk of that egg; it abounds with many things like the variegated feathers of the peacocks, all which serve but to mislead us to error. Know therefore there is no difference in outward form and internal spirit of the world, as there is none in the outer peacock and the inner-yolk. CHAPTER XXXXVIII. ON THE UNITY AND IDENTITY OF BRAHMÁ AND THE WORLD. Argument.--He whose essence is the source of all our enjoyments; is ascertained as the _Sachchidánanda_ or Entity of the Felicitous Intellect or the blissful spirit of God. Vasishtha continued:--That which contains this wide extended universe within itself, and without manifesting its form unto us, is very like the egg of the peahen and contains all space and individual bodies in its yolk. (The mind of God contains the mundane egg). 2. That which has nothing in reality in it, appears yet to contain everything in itself; as the spotless mirror reflects the image of the moon, and the hollow egg bears the figure of the future peacock. 3. It is in this manner that the gods and sages, saints and holy-men, the siddhas and great Rishis, meditate on the true and self subsistent form of God, as find themselves seated in their fourth state of bliss above the third heaven. 4. These devout personages sit with their half shut eyes, and without the twinkling of their eyelids; and continue to view in their inward souls, the visible glory of God shining in its full light. 5. Thus enrapt in their conscious presence of God, they are unconscious of any other thought in their minds; though when employed in the acts of life, remain without the respiration of their vital breath. 6. They sit quiet as figures in a painting, without respiration of their breath, and remain as silent as sculptured statues, without the action of their minds. (They forget themselves to stones in their excess of devotion). 7. They remain in their state of holy rapture, without the employment of their minds in their fleeting thoughts, and whenever they have any agitation they can effect anything, as the Lord God works all things at the slightest nod. 8. Even when their minds are employed in meditative thoughts, they are usually attended with a charming gladness, like that of the charming moonbeams falling on and gladding the leafy branches of trees. 9. The soul is as enraptured with the view of the holy light of God, as the mind is delighted at the sight of the cooling moonbeams, emitted afar from the lunar disc. (The gloss explains the distant moonlight to be less dazzling than the bright disc of that luminary). 10. The aspect of pure conscience is as clear, as the fair face of the bright moon; it is neither visible nor in need of admonition, nor is it too near nor far from us. (The gloss is silent on the inappropriateness of the simile). 11. It is by one's self cogitation alone that the pure intellect can be known, and not by the bodily organs, or living spirit or mind, or by our desire of knowing it. 12. It is not the living soul nor its consciousness, nor the vibrations of the body, mind, or breath. It is not the world nor its reality or unreality, or its vacuity or solidity, or the centre of any thing. 13. It is not time or space or any substance at all, nor is it a god or any other being, whatever is quite free from all these and unconfined in the heart or any of the sheaths inside the body. 14. That is called the soul in which all things are moving, and which is neither the beginning nor end of any thing, but exists from eternity to eternity, and is not characterised by any of the elementary bodies of air and the rest. 15. The soul is an entity that is never annihilated in this or the next world, though the sentient bodies may be born and die away a thousand times like earthen pots here below. 16. There is no removal of this vacuous spirit from its seat, both in the inside and outside of every body; for know, O thou best of spiritualists, all bodies to be equally situated in the all pervading spirit. 17. It is the imperfection of our understanding, that creates the difference between the spirit and the body; but it shows the perfection of our judgement, when we believe the universal soul, to be diffused throughout the universe. 18. Though warmly engaged in business, yet remain unaddicted to worldliness by your indifference to the world, and to all moving and unmoving things that there exists on earth. 19. Know all those as the great Brahma--the immaculate soul, that is without the properties and attributes of mortal beings; it is without change and beginning and end, and is always tranquil and in the same state. 20. Now Ráma! as you have known by your spiritual vision (clairvoyance), all things including time and action, and all causality, causation and its effect, together with the production, sustentation and dissolution of all, to be composed of the spirit of God, you are freed from your wanderings in the world in your bodily form. CHAPTER XXXXIX. CONTEMPLATION OF THE COURSE OF THE WORLD. Argument.--Consideration of the changes in the state of things; and their origination from Ignorance and extinction in the true knowledge of their nature. Ráma said:--Sir, if there is no change in the immutable spirit of God; say how do these various changes constantly appear to occur in the state of things in this world. (Because it is the change of cause that produces a change in the effect, as also a change in the state of any thing, argues a change in its cause likewise). 2. Vasishtha replied:--Hear Ráma! that it is the alteration of a thing that does not revert to its former state, that is called its change, as it occurs in the instance of milk, and its conversion to curd and butter, which never become the pure milk again. 3. The milk is converted to curd, but the curd never reverts to its former state of milk, such is the nature of change in the state of things; but it can never affect the great God, who remains alike all along the first, intermediate and last states of things. 4. There is no such change as that of milk or any other things in the immutable Brahma, who having no beginning nor end, can neither have any age or stage of life assigned to him. (_i.e._ The Infinite God is neither young nor old as any finite being). 5. The states of beginning and end which are attributed to eternal God, are the false imputations of ignorance and error, as there can be no change of changeless one. (To say therefore that God is the first and last, the alpha and omega of all, means that the beginning and end of all things, are comprised in his everlasting existence). 6. Brahma is not our consciousness, nor the object of our consciousness. He is as unconnected with us as our soul and intellect, and is only known to us by the word. 7. A thing is said to be the same, with what it is in the beginning and end; the difference that takes place in the form is only a mist of error, and is taken into no account by the wise. (The identity of a thing consists in its unalterable part). 8. It is the soul only that remains self same with itself, both in the beginning, middle and end of it, and in all places and times, and never changes with the change of the body or mind and therefore forms the identity of the person. 9. The soul which is formless and self-same with itself, forms the personality and individuality of a being, and because it is not subject to any modality or mutation at any time, it constitutes the essential identity of every body. 10. Ráma rejoined:--If the divine soul is always the same and perfectly pure in itself, when proceeds our error of its changeableness, and what is the cause of the avidyá or ignorance that shows these changes unto us? 11. Vasishtha replied:--The category of Brahma implies that, He is all what is, what was, and what will be in future; that He is without change and without beginning and end, and there is no _avidyá_ ignorance in him. 12. The signification that is meant to be expressed by the significant term Brahma, does not include any other thing as what is inexistent, or the negative idea of ignorance under it (_i.e._ God is what is and not what is not). 13. Thyself and myself, this earth and sky, the world and all its sides, together with the elementary of fire and others, are all the everlasting and infinite Brahma, and there is not the least misunderstanding in it. 14. Avidyá or Ignorance is a mere name and Error, and is but another word for unreality; nor can you Ráma, ever call that a reality, which is never existent of itself. (The words ignorance and error are both of them but negative terms). 15. Ráma said:--Why sir, you have said yourself of Ignorance in the chapter on Upasama or Tranquillity, and told me to know all these as products of error. 16. Vasishtha answered:--Ráma! you had been all this time immerged in your ignorance, and have at last come to your right understanding by your own reasoning. 17. It is the practice of glossologists and men of letters, to adopt the use of the word ignorance, living soul and the like, for awakening the unenlightened to their enlightenment only. 18. So long as the mind is not awakened to the knowledge of truth, it remains in the darkness of error for ever; and is not to its right understanding; even by its traversing a hundred miles. 19. When the living soul is awakened to its right sense by the force of reason, it learns to unite itself to the supreme soul, but being led without the guidance of reason, it is successful in nothing with all its endeavours. 20. He who tells the unenlightened vile man, that all this world is the great Brahma himself, does no more than communicate his sorrows to the headless trunk of a tree. (A lecture to the listless man, is not listened to). 21. The fool is brought to sense by reasoning, and the wise man knows the truth from the nature of the subject; but the ignorant never learn wisdom, without the persuasion of reason. (The wise learn by intuition, but the unwise by no instruction). 22. You had been unwise so long as you depended on your own reasoning (judgment); but being guided by me, you are now awakened to truth. (No body is wise of his own conceit without the guidance of his preceptor). 23. That I am Brahma, thou art Brahma, and so the visible world is Brahma himself; know this truth and naught otherwise, and do as you please. (All inventions and imaginations of Him are false). 24. Inconceivable is the conception of God, and the visible world is all that is known of him; know him as one, and the infinite, and you will not be misled into error. 25. Ráma, think in yourself whether when you are sitting or walking, or waking or sleeping, that you are this supreme spirit, which is of the form of light and intelligence, and pervades all things. 26. Ráma! if you are without your egoism and meity or selfishness, and if you are intelligent and honest, then be as oecumenical and tranquil as Brahma himself, who is equally situated in all things. 27. Know your self as the pure consciousness, which is situated as one in all; which is without beginning and end, and is the essence of light and the most transcendent of all being. 28. What you call, Brahma the universal soul and the fourth or transcendent state; know the same to be _materia_ or matter and _natura_ or nature also. It is the inseparable one in all, as the mud is the essential substance of a thousand water pots. 29. Nature is not different from the nature of the soul, as the clay is no other than the pot itself; the Divine essence is as the intrinsic clay, and the divine spirit extends as the inward matter of all things. 30. The soul has its pulsation like the whirling of the whirlpool, and this is termed _Prakriti_ force or matter, which is no other than an effort of the spirit. 31. As pulsation and ventilation, mean the same thing under different names; so the soul and nature express the same substance, which are not different in their essence. 32. It is mere ignorance which makes their difference, and which is removed by their knowledge; as it is sheer ignorance which represents a snake in the rope, and which is soon removed by knowledge of their nature. 33. As the seed of imagination falls in the field of the intellect, it shoots forth in the sprout of the mind, which becomes the germ of the wide spreading arbor of the universe. 34. The seed of false imagination (of _avidyá_ or personified Ignorance), being scorched by the flames of spiritual knowledge; will be able to vegetate no more, though it is sprinkled with the water of fond desire. (_i.e._ Fancy is fed by desire, but fly away at the appearance of reason). 35. If you do not sow the seed of imagination in the soil of your intellect, you will stop the germination of the plants of pain and pleasure in the field of your mind. (Pain and pleasure are imaginary ideas and not really so in their nature). 36. Ráma! as you have come to know the truth, you must forsake your false conception of such a thing as ignorance or error existing in the world; and know that there is no duality in the unity of God. Being thus full with the knowledge of one supreme soul, you must repudiate your ideas of pain and pleasure in anything here below. Pain turns to pleasure, and pleasure to pain, know them both as unreal, as they are vain. CHAPTER L. ON SENSATIONS AND THE OBJECTS OF SENSES. Argument.--The production of the eight signs or senses in the vital soul, and their development into the External organs for the perception of outward objects. Ráma said:--Sir, I have known whatever is to be known, and seen all that is to be seen; I am filled with the ambrosial draught of divine knowledge, which you have kindly imparted to me. 2. I see the world full with the fulness of Brahma, I know the plenitude of God that has produced this plenary creation; it is the fulness of God that fills the universe, and all its amplitude depends on the plenum of the all pervading Deity. 3. It is now with much fondness that I like to propose to you another question, for the improvement of my understanding; and hope you will not be enraged at it, but communicate to me the instruction as a kind father does to his fondling boy. 4. We see the organs of sense, as the ears, nose, eyes, mouth and touch, existing alike in all animals (whether when they are alive or dead). 5. Why is it then that the dead do not perceive the objects of their sense, as well as the living who know the objects in their right manner? 6. How is it that the dull organs perceive the outward objects, as a pot and other objects of sense which are imperceptible to the inward heart, notwithstanding its natural sensibility and sensitiveness. 7. The relation between outward objects and the organs, is as that of the magnet and iron, which attract one another without their coming in contact together. But how is it that the small cavities of the organs could let into the mind such prodigious objects that surround us on all sides. 8. If you well know these secrets of nature, then please to communicate them to me in a hundred ways, in order to satisfy my curiosity regarding them. 9. Vasishtha answered--Now Ráma, I tell you in short, that neither the organs nor the heart and mind, nor the pots and pictures, are the things in reality; because it is impossible for any thing to exist apart and independent of the pure and intelligent spirit of God. 10. The Divine Intellect which is purer than air, takes the form of the mind by itself; which then assumes its elemental form of the organic body, and exhibits all things agreeably to the ideas which are engraven in the mind. 11. The same elements being afterwards stretched out into matter or _máyá_ and nature or _prakriti_, exhibit the whole universe as its _ensemble_, and the organs and their objects as its parts. (This passage rests on the authority of the sruti which says--[Sanskrit: máyántu prakritim vidyánamáyinantu maheshvaram | ashábayavabhutestu váptamsarvva midamjagat]). 12. The mind which takes the elemental form of its own nature, reflects itself in all the parts of nature in the forms of pots and all the rest of things. (It is repeatedly said that the mind is the maker of all things by reminiscence of the past). 13. Ráma rejoined--Tell me sir, what is the form of that elementary body, which reflects itself in a thousand shapes on the face of the _puryastaka_ or elemental world, as it were on the surface of a mirror. 14. Vasishtha replied--This elementary body which is the seed of the world, is the undecaying Brahma, who is without beginning and end, and of the form of pure light and intellect, and devoid of parts and attributes. 15. The same being disposed to its desires, becomes the living soul; and this being desirous of collecting all its desires and the parts of the body together, becomes the palpitating heart in the midst of it. (The word heart _hrid_ is derived from its _harana_ or receiving the blood and all bodily sensations into it; it, is called the _chitta_ also, from its _chinoti_ or collecting and distributing these in itself and to all parts of the body). 16. It becomes the ego from its thought of its egoism, and is called the mind from its minding--_manana_ of many things in itself; it takes the name of _buddhi_ or understanding from its _bodha_ or understanding and ascertainment of things, and that of sense also from its sensation of external objects. 17. It thinks of taking a body and becomes the very body, as a potter having the idea of a pot forms it in the same manner. Such being the nature of the soul of being and doing all what it likes, it is thence styled the _puryashtaka_ or manifest in its said eight different forms. 18. The Intellect is also called the _puryashtaka_ or octuple soul, from its presiding over the eight fold functions of a person; as those of perception, action and passion and inspection or witnessing of all things and the like; as also from its inward consciousness and the power of vitality. (The gloss gives the following explanations of these words, _viz._--Perception of what is derived by the organs of sense. Action of what is done by the organs of action [Sanskrit: karmendriya]. Passion or the feelings of pleasure or pain that is so derived. Inspection or the silent witnessing of all things by the isolated soul. And so on). 19. The living soul takes upon it different forms at different times, according as it is employed in any one of these octuple functions; and also as it is actuated by the various desires, that rise in it by turns. 20. The octuple nature of the soul causes it to put forth itself, in the same form, as it is led to by its varying desire at any time; in the same manner as a seed shoots forth in its leaves, according to the quantity of water with which it is watered. 21. The soul forgets its intellectual nature, and thinks it's a mortal and material being, embodied in the form of a living creature or some inanimate being, and ever remains insensible of itself under the influence of its erroneous belief. 22. Thus the living soul wanders about in the world, as it is dragged to and fro by the halter of desire tied about its neck; now it soars high and then it plunges below like a plank, rising up and sinking below the waves and currents of the sea. 23. There is some one, who after being released from his imprisonment in this world, comes to know the supreme soul, and attains to that state which has neither its beginning nor end. 24. There are others also, who being weary and worried by their transmigrations in multitudinous births, come after the lapse of a long period to their knowledge of the soul, and obtain thereby their state of final bliss at last. 25. It is in this manner, O intelligent Ráma, that the living soul passes through many bodily forms, and you shall hear now, how it comes to perceive the outward objects of the pots &c. by means of the external organs of perception--the vision and others. 26. After the intellect has taken the form of the living soul, and the same has received its vitality; the action of the heart sends its feelings to the mind, which forms the sixth organ of the body. 27. As the living soul passes into the air, through the organs of the body it comes in contact with the external objects of the senses; and then joining with the intellect it perceives the external sensations within itself. (The gloss says--The organs of sense like canals of water, carry the sensations to the seat of the mind). 28. It is the union of the living soul with the outward objects, that causes and carries the sensations to the mind; but the soul being defunct and the mind being dormant, there is no more any perception of the externals. 29. Whatever outward object which is set in the open air, casts its reflexion on the subtile senses of living beings, the same comes intact with the living soul which feels the sensation; but the soul being departed, the dead body has neither its life nor feeling of aught in existence. 30. When the form of the outward object, comes in contact with the gemming eye sight of a person; it casts its picture on the same, which is instantly conveyed to the inward soul. 31. The image that is cast on the retina of the eye, is reflected thence to the clearer mirror of the soul, which perceives it by contact with the same; and it is thus that outer things come to the knowledge of the living soul. 32. Even babes can know whatever comes in taction with them, and so do brutes and vegetables have the power of feeling the objects of their touch; how then is it possible for the sensuous soul to be ignorant of its tangible objects? 33. The clear rays of the eyesight which surround the soul, present to it the pictures of visible objects which they bear in their bosom, and whereby the soul comes to know him. 34. There is the same relation of sensuous contact, between the perceptive soul and the perceptible objects of the other senses also; the taste, smell, sound, the touch of things, are all the effects of their contact with the soul. 35. The sound remaining in its receptacle of the air, passes in a moment in the cavity of the ear; and thence entering into the hollow space of the soul, gives it the sensation of its nature. 36. Ráma said:--I see that the reflexions of things are cast in the mirror of the mind, like the images of things carved on wooden tablets and slabs of stone; but tell me sir, how the reflexion of the image of God is cast on the mirror of the mind. 37. Vasishtha replied:--know, O best of gnostics that know the knowable, that the gross images of the universal and particular souls, which are reflected in the mirror of the mind, are as false as the images of God and deities which are carved in stones and wood. 38. Never rely, O Ráma, in the substantiality of this false world; know it as a great vortex of whirling waters, and ourselves as the waves rolling upon it. 39. There is no limitation of space or time or any action, in the boundless ocean of the infinity and eternity of the Deity; and you must know your soul to be identic with the Supreme, which is ubiquitous and omnipresent. 40. Remain always with a calm and quiet mind, unaddicted to anything in this world; know the vanity of worldly pleasures and pains, and go on with a contented mind where ever you will. Preserve your equality, and commit yourself to an indifferent apathy to every thing. CHAPTER LI. ON THE PERCEPTION OF THE SENSIBLE OBJECTS. Argument.--Erroneous Belief in the Reality of the Body and Mind; instead of believing the unity and Entity of Brahma as All in All. Vasishtha resumed:--Ráma, you have heard me relate unto you that, even the lotus-born Brahmá who was born long before you, had been without his organs of sense at first (_i.e._ Brahmá the creative power of God, was purely a spiritual Being, and had necessarily neither a gross body nor any of its organs as we possess). 2. As Brahmá--the collective agents of creation was endued only with his consciousness--_Samvid_ for the performance of all his functions; so are all individual personalities endowed with their self-consciousness only, for the discharge of all their necessary duties. 3. Know that as the living soul, dwelling in its body in the mother's womb, comes to reflect on the actions of the senses, it finds their proper organ supplied to its body immediately. 4. Know the senses and the organs of sense to be the forms of consciousness itself, and this I have fully explained to you in the case of Brahma, who represents the collective body of all individual souls. 5. At first there was the pure consciousness in its collective-form in the Divine Intellect, and this afterwards came to be diffused in millions of individual souls from its sense of egoism. At first was the Divine soul "the I am all that I am" and afterwards became many as expressed in the Vedic text "_aham bahusyam_". 6. It is no stain to the pure universal, undivided and subjective Divine spirit, to be divided into the infinity of individual and objective souls; since the universal and subjective unity comprises in it the innumerable objective individualities which it evolves of itself. (in its self manifestation in the universe). 7. The objectivity of God does not imply his becoming either the thinking mind or the living soul; nor his assuming upon him the organic body or any elemental form. (Because the Lord becomes the object of our meditation and adoration in his spirit only). 8. He does not become the Vidyá or Avidyá--the intelligible or unintelligible, and is ever existent as appearing non-existent to the ignorant; this is called the supreme soul, which is beyond the comprehension of the mind and apprehension of the senses. 9. From Him rises the living soul as well as the thinking mind; which are resembled for the instruction of mankind, as sparks emitted from fire. 10. From whatever source ignorance (Avidyá) may have sprung, you have no need of inquiring into the cause thereof; but taking ignorance as a malady, you should seek the remedy of reasoning for its removal. 11. After all forms of things and the erroneous knowledge of particulars, are removed from your mind; there remains that knowledge of the unity, in which the whole firmament is lost, as a mountain is concealed in an atom. (The infinity of Deity, envelopes all existence in it). 12. That in which all the actions and commotions of the world, remain still and motionless; [as] if they were buried in dead silence and nihility; is the surest rock of your rest and resort, after feeling from the bustle of all worldly business. 13. The unreal or negative idea of ignorance, has also a form, as inane as it is nothing; look at her and she becomes a nullity, touch her and she perishes and vanishes from sight. (Avidyá like Ignorantia is of the feminine gender, and delusive and fleeting as a female). 14. Seek after her, and what can you find but her nothingness; and if by your endeavour you can get anything of her, it is as the water in the mirage (which kills by decoying the unwary traveller). 15. As it is ignorance alone that creates her reality, her unreality appears as a reality, and destroys the seeming reality at once. (Avidyá or Ignorance is the Goddess of the agnostic sáktas, who worship her, under the name of Máyá or Illusion also). 16. Agnosticism imputes false attributes to the nature of the Deity, and it is the doctrine of the agnostics to misrepresent the universal spirit, under the forms of the living soul and the perishable body. (from their ignorance of the supreme). 17. Now hear me attentively to tell you the sástras that they have invented, in order to propagate their agnostic religion or belief in this avidyá, by setting up the living soul and others in lieu of the supreme spirit. 18. Being fond of representing the Divine Intellect in a visible form, they have stained the pure spirit with many gross forms, such as the elemental and organic body, which is enlivened by the vital spirit dwelling in it. 19. Whatever they think a thing to be, they believe in the same; they make truth of an untruth, and its reverse likewise; as children make a devil of a doll, and afterwards break it to nothing. 20. They take the frail body formed of the five elements as a reality, and believe its holes of the organs as the seats of the sensuous soul. 21. They employ these five fold organs in the perception of the pentuple objects of the senses; which serve at best to represent their objects in different light than what they are, as the germ of a seed produces its leaves of various colours. (This means the false appearances which are shown by the deceptive senses). 22. They reckon some as the internal senses, as the faculties of the mind and the feelings of the heart, and others as external, as the outward organs of action and sensation; and place their belief in whatever their souls and minds suggest to them either as false or true. 23. They believe the moonlight to be hot or cold, according as they feel by their outward perception. (_i.e._ Though the moon-beams appear cooling to the weary, yet they seem to be warm to the love lorn _amorosa_). 24. The pungency of the pepper and the vacuity of the firmament, are all according to one's knowledge and perception of them, and do not belong to the nature of things. For sweet is sour to some, and sour is sweet to others; and the firmament is thought to be a void by many, but is found to be full of air by others, who assert the dogma of natures abhorrence of vacuum. 25. They have also ascertained certain actions and rituals, which are in common practice, as the articles of their creed, and built their faith of a future heaven, on the observance of those usages. 26. The living soul which is full of its desires, is led by two different principles of action through life; the one is its natural tendency to some particular action, and the other is the direction of some particular law or other. It is however the natural propensity of one, that gets the better of the other. 27. It is the soul which has produced all the objective duality from the subjective unity only; as it is the sweet sap of the sugarcane that produces the sugarcandy; and the serum of the earth, that forms and fashions the water pot. (The objective is the production of the subjective.) 28. In these as well as in all other cases, the changes that take place in the forms of things, are all the results of time and place and other circumstances; but none of these has any relation in the nature of God, in his production of the universe. 29. As the sugarcane produces its leaves and flowers from its own sap, so the living soul produces the dualities from sap of its own unity, which is the supreme soul itself. (The spirit of God that dwells in all souls. (_Swátmani Brahmasatwa_), produces all these varieties in them.) 30. It is the God that is seated in all souls, that views the dualities of a pot, picture, a cot and its egoism in itself; and so they appear to every individual soul in the world. 31. The living soul appears to assume to itself, the different forms of childhood, youth, and age at different times; as a cloud in the sky appears as an exhalation, a watery cloud and the sap of the earth and all its plants, at the different times of the hot and rainy seasons of the year. 32. The living soul perceives all these changes, as they are exhibited before it by the supreme soul in which they are all present; and there is no being in the world, that is able to alter this order of nature. 33. Even the sky which is as clear as the looking glass, and is spread all about and within every body, is not able to represent unto us, all the various forms which are presented to the soul by the great soul of souls (in which they appear to be imprinted). Here Vasishtha is no more an _ákása-vádi_--vacuist, in as much as he finds a difference in the nature and capacity of the one from those of the other or the supreme soul. 34. The soul which is situated in the universal soul of Brahmá, shines as the living soul (Jíva) of living beings; but it amounts to a duality, to impute even an incorporeal idea of _Avidyá_ or Ignorance to it; because the nature of God is pure Intelligence, and cannot admit an ignorant spirit in it (as the good spirit of God cannot admit the evil spirit of a demon in itself). 35. Whatever thing is ordained to manifest itself in any manner, the same is its nature and stamp (swabháva and neyati); and though such appearance is no reality, yet you can never undo what is ordained from the beginning. 36. As a golden ornament presents to you the joint features of its reality and unreality at the same time (in that it is gold and jewellery, the one being real and the other changeable and therefore unreal); so are all things but combinations of the real and unreal, in their substantial essence and outward appearance. But both of these dissolve at last to the Divine spirit, as the gold ornament is melted down to liquid gold in the crucible. 37. The Divine Intellect being all-pervasive by reason of its intellectuality, it diffuses also over the human mind; as the gold of the jewel settles and remains dull in the crucible. 38. The heart having the passive nature of dull intellectuality, receives the fleeting impressions of the active mind, and takes upon it the form that it feels strongly impressed upon it at any time. (The heart is the passive receptacle of the impression of the active mind and reverberates to the tone of its thoughts). 39. The soul also assumes many shapes to itself at different times, according to the ever changing prospects, which various desires always present before it. 40. The body likewise takes different forms upon it, according to its inward thoughts and feelings; as a city seen in a dream varies considerably from what is seen with naked eyes. So we shape our future forms by the tenor of our minds (because our life is but a dream and our bodies but its shadows--_prathibas_). 41. As a dream presents us the shadows of things, that disappear on our waking, so these living bodies that we see all about, must vanish into nothing upon their demise. 42. What is unreal is doomed to perish, and those that die are destined to be born again, and the living soul takes another form in another body, as it sees itself in its dream. 43. This body does not become otherwise, though it may change from youth to age in course of time; because the natural form of a person retains its identity in every stage of life through which it has to pass. 44. A man sees in his dream all that he has seen or heard or thought of at any time, and the whole world being comprised in the state of dreaming, the living soul becomes the knower of all that is knowable in his dream. (The sruti says, the soul comprises the three worlds in itself, which it sees expanded before in its dream). 45. That which is not seen in the sight of a waking man, but is known to him only by name (as the indefinite form of Brahma); can never be seen in dream also, as the pure soul and the intellect of God. (Abstract thoughts are not subjects of dream). 46. As the living soul sees in its dream the objects that it has seen before, so the intellectual part of the soul sees also many things, which were unknown to it. 47. Subdue your former desires and propensities, by your manly efforts at present; and exert your utmost to change your habitual misconduct to your good behaviour for the future. 48. You can never subdue your senses, nor prevent your transmigrations, without gaining your liberation; but must continue to rise and plunge in the stream of life forever more and in all places. 49. The imagination of your mind, causes the body to grasp your soul as a shark, and the desire of your soul is as a ghost, that lays hold on children in the dark. 50. It is the mind, the understanding and egoism, joined with the five elements or tanmátras, that form the puryastaka or ativáhika body, composed of the octuple subtile properties. 51. The bodiless or intellectual soul, is finer than the vacuous air; the air is its great arbor, and the body is as its mountain. (_i.e._ It is more subtile than the empty air and sky). 52. One devoid of his passions and affections, and exempt from all the conditions of life, is entitled to his liberation; he remains in a state of profound sleep (hypnotism), wherein the gross objects and desires of life, lie embosomed and buried for ever. 53. The state of dreaming is one, in which the dreamer is conscious of his body and self-existence; and has to rove about or remain fixed in some place, until his attainment of final liberation. Such is the state of living beings and vegetables (both of which are conscious of their lives). 54. Some times the sleeping and often the dreaming person, have both to bear and carry with them their _ativáhika_ or moveable bodies, until they obtain their final emancipation from life. 55. When the sleeping soul does not rise of itself (by its intellectual knowledge), but is raised from the torpor of its sleep by some ominous dream, it then wakes to the fire of a conflagration from its misery only. (Here waking to a conflagration is opposed to the waking to a seas of woes of Dr. Young. The gloss says, that it is a structure on the unintelligent waking of the Nyáyikas). 56. The state of the unmoving minerals, including even that of the fixed arbor of the _Kalpa_ tree (that is in its torpid hypnotism of susupti), exhibits no sign of intelligence except gross dulness. 57. The dull sleep of _susupta_ being dispelled by some dream, leads the waker to the miseries of life in this world; but he that awakes from his trance with full intelligence, finds the perfect felicity of the fourth (turya) states open fully to his view. 58. The living soul finds liberation by means of its intelligence, and it is by this means that it gets its spirituality also; just as copper being cleansed of its rust by some acid, assumes the brightness of pure gold. 59. The liberation that the living soul has by means of its intelligence, is again of two kinds, namely;--the one is termed emancipation from life or _Jívan mukta_, and the other is known as the release from the burden of the body or _deha mukta_. 60. Emancipation from life means the attainment of the fourth state of perfection, and intelligence signifies the enlightenment of the soul, and this is obtainable by cultivation of the understanding. 61. The soul that is acquainted with sástra, and knows the supreme spirit in itself, becomes full of the Deity; but the unintelligent soul sees only horrors rising before it, like spectres of his troublesome dreams. 62. The horrors rising in the heart of man, serve only to disturb the rest of the breast; or else there is nothing in the heart of man, except a particle of the Divine Intellect. 63. Men are verily subjected to misery, by looking at the Deity in any other light, than the Divine light which shines in the soul of man, and beside which there is no other light in it. 64. Look at the world whenever you will, and you will find it full of illusion everywhere; as you find nothing in a pot full of foul water except the sediments of dirt. 65. In the same manner you see the atoms of human souls, full with the vanities of this world; it is by the fetters of its worldly desires, and gets its release by the breaking off those bonds of its desire. 66. The soul sleeps under the spell of its desires, and sees those objects in its dream, it wakes after their dispersion to the state of turya-felicity. The spell of gross desire, extends over all animate as well as in-animate creation. 67. The desire of superior beings is of a pure nature, and that of intermediate natures is of less pure form. The desires of inferior beings are of a gross nature, and there are others without them as the pots and blocks. 68. The living soul (passing through the doors of bodily organs) becomes united with the outward object, when the one becomes the percipient and the other the object of its percipience; and then the entity of both of these, namely of the inward soul and the outward object being pervaded by the all pervasive Intellect of God, they both become one and the same with the common receptacle of all. (I.e. All things blend in the Divine unity). 69. Hence the belief of the receiver, received and reception, are as false as the water in the mirage; and there is nothing that we can shun or lay hold upon as desirable or disgusting, when they are all the same in the sight of God. 70. All things whether internal or external, are manifested to us as parts of the one universal and intellectual soul; and all the worlds being but manifestations of the Divine Intellect, it is in vain to attribute any difference to them. All of us are displayed in the Intellect, which contains the inner and outer worlds for ever. 71. As the ocean is an even expanse of water, after the subsidence of all its various waves and billows, and shows itself as clear as sky with its pure watery expanse to view; so the whole universe appears as the reflexion of one glorious and ever lasting Deity, after we lose sight of the diversities that are presented to our superficial view. CHAPTER LII. STORY OF ARJUNA, AS THE INCARNATION OF NARA-NÁRÁYANA. Argument.--The Narrative of Arjuna given in Illustration of the truth, that the world is a dream and unworthy of our reliance. Vasishtha said:--Know Ráma, this world to be as a dream, which is common to all living beings, and is fraught with many agreeable scenes, so as to form the daily romance of their lives, which is neither true nor entirely false. 2. But as it is not likely that the living souls of men should be always asleep; therefore their waking state is to be accounted as one of dreaming also. (Life is a dream. Addison). 3. Life is a longer dream than the short lived ones in our sleep; and know it, intelligent Ráma, to be as untrue as it is unsubstantial and airy in its nature. 4. The living souls of the living world, continually pass from dream to dream, and they view the unrealities of the world as positive realities in their nature. (The unreal is thought as real by the Realists). 5. They ascribe solidity to the subtile, and subtilty to what is solid; they see the unreal as real, and think the unliving as living in their ignorance. 6. They consider the revolution of all worlds, to be confined in the solar system; and rove about like somnambulists and fleeting bees about the living soul, which they differentiate from the supreme. 7. They consider and meditate in their minds, the living soul as a separate reality, owing to its ubiquity and immortality, and as the source of their own lives. (This is the living liberation--Jívanmukti of Buddhists, who consider their living souls as absolute agent of themselves). 8. Hear me to relate to you the best lesson of indifference (_i.e._ the unattachment to the world and life), which the lotus-eyed lord (Krishna) taught to Arjuna, and whereby that sagely prince became liberated in life time. (Here is an anachronism of antedating Krishnárjuna prior to Ráma). 9. Thus Arjuna the son of Pandu will happily pass his life, and which I hope you will imitate, if you want to pass your days without any grief or sorrow. 10. Ráma said:--Tell me sir, when will this Arjuna the son of Pandu, come to be born on earth, and who is this Hari of his, that is to deliver this lesson of indifference to the world to him? 11. Vasishtha replied:--There is only the entity of one soul, to whom this appellation is applied by fiction only. He remains in himself from time without beginning and end, as the sky is situated in a vacuum. 12. We behold in him the phantasmagoria of this extended world, as we see the different ornaments in gold, and the waves and billows in the sea. (Identity of the cause and effect of the producer and produced). 13. The fourteen kinds of created beings display themselves in him; and in him is the network of this universe, wherein all these worlds are suspended, as birds hanging in the net in which they are caught. 14. In him reside the deities Indra and Yama and the sun and moon, who are renowned and hallowed in the scriptures; and in him abide the five elemental creation, and they that have become the regents (of heaven and earth). 15. That the one thing is virtue and therefore expedient, and the other is vice and therefore improper, are both placed in him as his ordinances (or eternal laws); and depending on the free agency (sankalpa) of men, to accept or reject the one or the other for good or evil. (Hence there is no positive virtue or vice, nor God the author of good and evil; but it is the obedience or disobedience to his fixed laws, that amounts to the one or other). 16. It is obedience to the Divine ordinance, that the gods are still employed in their fixed charges with their steady minds. 17. The lord Yama is accustomed to make his penance, at the end of every four yugas (or kalpa age), on account of his greatness in destruction of the creatures of God. (Yama the Indian Pluto and god of death.) 18. Sometimes he sat penitent for eight years, and all others for a dozen of years, often times he made his penance for five or seven years, and many times for full sixteen years. 19. On a certain occasion as Yama sat observant of his austerity, and indifferent to his duty, death ceased to hunt after living beings in all the worlds. 20. Hence the multitude of living beings filled the surface of the earth, and made ground pathless and impassable by others. They multiplied like the filth born gnats in the rainy weather, that obstruct the passage of elephants. 21. Then the gods sat together in council, and after various deliberations came to determine the extirpation of all living beings, for relieving the over burdened earth. (This was to be done by the Bharata war celebrated in the great epic of the Mahábhárata). 22. In this way many ages have passed away, and many changes have taken place in the usages of the people, and unnumbered living beings have passed and gone with the revolutions of the worlds. 23. Now it will come to pass, that this Yama--the son of the sun and the lord of the regions of the dead; will again perform his penance in the aforesaid manner after the expiration of many ages to come. 24. He will again resume his penitence for a dozen of years, for the atonement of his sin of destroying the living; when he will abstain from his wonted conduct of destroying the lives of human beings. 25. At that time, will the earth be filled with deathless mortals, so as this wretched earth will be covered and overburthened with them, as with dense forest trees. 26. The earth groaning under her burden, and oppressed by tyranny and lawlessness, will have recourse to Hari for her redress, as when a virtuous wife resorts to her husband from the aggression of Dasyus. 27. For this reason, Hari will be incarnate in two bodies, joined with the powers of all the gods, and will appear on earth in two persons of Nara and Náráyana, the one a man and the other the lord Hari himself. 28. With one body Hari will become the son of Vasudeva, and will thence be called Vasudeva; and with the other he will be the son of Pandu and will thereby be named the Pándava Arjuna or Arjuna the Pándava. 29. Pandu will have another son by name of Yudhisthira, who will adopt the title of the son of Dharma or righteousness, for his acquaintance with politics, and he will reign over the earth to its utmost limit of the ocean. 30. He will have his rival with Duryodhana his cousin by his paternal uncle, and there will be a dreadful war between them as between a snake and weasel. 31. The belligerent princes will wage a furious war for the possession of the earth, with forces of eighteen legions on both sides. (Those of Duryodhana were eleven legions, and Yudhisthira were seven). 32. The God Vishnu will cause Arjuna to slay them all by his great bow of Gándíva, and thereby relieve the earth of her burden of riotous peoples. 33. The incarnation of Vishnu in the form of Arjuna, will comprise all the qualities incident to humanity; and will be fraught with the feelings of joy and vengeance, which are connatural with mankind. 34. Seeing the battle array on both sides, and friends and kinsmen ready to meet their fate, pity and grief will seize the heart of Arjuna, and he will cease from engaging in the war. 35. Hari will then with his intelligent form of Krishna, persuade his insensible person of Arjuna, to perform his part of a hero for crowning his valour with success. 36. He taught him the immortality of the soul by telling him that, the soul is never born nor does it die at any time, nor had it a prior birth, nor is it new born to be born again on earth, it is unborn and ever lasting, and is indestructible with the destruction of the body. 37. He who thinks the soul to be the slayer of or slain by any body, is equally ignorant of its nature, never kills nor is ever killed by any body. 38. It is immortal and uniform with itself, and more rare and subtile than the air and vacuity; the soul which is the form of the great God himself, is never and in no way destroyed by any body. 39. O Ráma, that art conscious of yourself, know your soul to be immortal and unknown, and without its beginning, middle and end; it is of the form of consciousness and clear without any soil, so by thinking yourself as such, you become the unborn, eternal and undecaying soul yourself. CHAPTER LIII. ADMONITION OF ARJUNA. Argument.--Abandonment of Egoism, knowledge of the Adorable one and its different stages. The Lord said:--Arjuna, you are not the killer (of any soul), it is a false conceit of yours which you must shun; the soul is ever lasting and free from death and decay. 2. He who has no egoism in him, and whose mind is not moved (by joy or grief), is neither the killer of nor killed by any body, though he may kill every one in the world. (This is an attribute of the supreme soul). 3. Whatever is known in our consciousness, the same is felt within us; shun therefore your inward consciousness of egoism and meity, as this is I and these are mine, and these are others and theirs. 4. The thought that you are connected with such and such persons and things, and that of your being deprived of them, and the joy and grief to which you are subjected thereby, must affect your soul in a great measure. 5. He who does his works with the parts or members of his body, and connects the least attention of his soul there with; becomes infatuated by his egoism and believes himself as the doer of his action. (here is a lesson of perfect indifference enjoined to any act or thought that a man does by or entertains in himself). 6. Let the eyes see, the ears hear, and your touch feel their objects, let your tongue also taste the relish of a thing, but why take them to your soul and where is your egoism situated in these? 7. The minds of even the great, are verily employed in the works that they have undertaken to perform, but where is your egoism or soul in these, that you should be sorry for its pains. (The soul is aloof from pain). 8. Your assumption to yourself to any action, which has been done by the combination of many, amounts only to a conceit of your vanity, and exposes you not only to ridicule, but to frustrate the merit of your act. (So is the assuming of a joint action of all the organs and members of the mind, and the achievement of a whole army to one's self. So also many masters arrogate to themselves the merit of the deeds of their servants). 9. The yogis and hermits do their ritual and ordinary actions with attention of their minds and senses, and often times with the application of the members and organs of their bodies only, in order to acquire and preserve the purity of their souls. 10. Those who have not subdued their bodies with the morphia of indifference, are employed in the repetition of their actions, without ever being healed of their disease (of anxiety). 11. No person is graceful whose mind is tinged with his selfishness, as no man however learned and wise is held in honour, whose conduct is blemished with unpoliteness and misbehaviours. 12. He who is devoid of his selfishness and egotism, and is alike patient both in prosperity and adversity, is neither affected nor dejected, whether he does his business or not. 13. Know this, O son of Pandu as the best field for your martial action; which is worthy of your great good, glory and ultimate happiness. (War in a just cause is attended with glory). 14. Though you reckon it as heinous on the one hand and unrighteous on the other; yet you must acknowledge the super excellence and imperiousness of the duties required of your martial race, so do your duty and immortalize yourself. 15. Seeing even the ignorant stick fast to the proper duties of their race, no intelligent person can neglect or set them at naught; and the mind that is devoid of vanity, cannot be ashamed or dejected, even if one fails or falls in the discharge of his duty. 16. Do you duty, O Arjuna, with your yoga or fixed attention to it, and avoid all company (in order to keep company with the object of your pursuit only). If you do your works as they come to you by yourself alone, you will never fail nor be foiled in any. _i.e._ thy object thou canst never gain, unless from all others you refrain. 17. Be as quiet as the person of Brahma, and do your works as quietly as Brahma does leave his result (whether good or bad) to Brahma (because you can have no command over the consequence), and by doing so, assimilate thyself into the nature of Brahma (who is all in all). 18. Commit yourself and all your actions and objects to God, remain as unaltered as God himself, and know him as the soul of all, and be thus the decoration of the world. (The gloss says, it is no blasphemy to think one's self as God, when there is no other personality besides that of Deity). 19. If you can lay down all your desires, and become as even and cool mind as a muni--monk; if you can join your soul to the yoga of sannyasa or contemplative coldness, you can do all your actions with a mind unattached to any. 20. Arjuna said:--Please lord, explain to me fully, what is meant by the renunciation of all connections, commitment of our actions to Brahma; dedication of ourselves to God and abdication of all concerns. 21. Tell me also about the acquisition of true knowledge and divisions of Yoga meditation, all which I require to know in their proper order, for the removal of my gross ignorance on those subjects. 22. The Lord replied:--The learned know that as the true form of Brahma, of which we can form no idea or conception, but which may be known after the restraining of our imagination, and the pacification of our desires. 23. Promptitude after these things constitutes our wisdom or knowledge, and perseverance in these practices is what is called Yoga. Self dedication to Brahma rests on the belief that, Brahma is all this world and myself also. 24. As a stone statue is all hollow both in its inside and outside, so is Brahma as empty, tranquil and transparent as the sky, which is neither to be seen by us nor is it beyond our sight. 25. It then bulges out a little from itself, and appears as something, other than what it is. It is this reflexion of the universe, but all as empty as this inane vacuity. 26. What is again this idea of your egoism, when every thing is evolved out of the Supreme Intellect, of what account is the personality of any body, which is but an infinitesimal part of the universal soul. 27. The Egoism of the individual soul, is not apart from the universal spirit, although it seems to be separate from the same; because there is no possibility of exclusion or separation of anything from the Omnipresent and all comprehensive soul of God, and therefore a distinct egoism is a nullity. 28. As it is the case with our egoism, so is it with the individuality of a pot and of a monkey also. (_i.e._ of all insensible and brute creatures too), none of which is separate from the universal whole. All existences being as drops of water in the sea, it is absurd to presume an egoism to any body. 29. Things appearing as different to the conscious soul, are to be considered as the various imageries represented in the self-same soul (like the sundry scenes shown in the soul in a dream). 30. So also is the knowledge of the particulars and species, lost in the idea of the general and the _summum genus_. Now by _sannyása_ or renunciation of the world is meant, the resignation of the fruition of the fruits of our actions. (The main teaching of Krishna to Arjuna in the Bhagavadgítá, tends to the renunciation of the fruits of our actions). 31. Unattachment signifies the renunciation of all our worldly desires, and the intense application of the mind to the one sole God of the multifarious creation, and the variety of his imaginary representations. 32. The want of all dualism in the belief of his self-existence as distinct from that of God, constitutes his dedication of himself to God; it is ignorance that creates the distinction, by applying various names and attributes to the one intellectual soul. 33. The meaning of the word intelligent soul, is undoubtedly that it is one with the universe; and that the Ego is the same with all space, and its contents of the worlds and their motions. 34. The Ego is the unity of Eternity, and the Ego is duality and plurality in the world, and the variety of its multifarious productions. Therefore be devoted to the sole Ego, and drown your own egoism in the universal Ego. (Here the purport is given instead of the literal version of the too verbose tetrastich verse). 35. Arjuna said:--There being two forms of the Deity, the one transcendent or spiritual and the other transpicuous or material; tell me to which of these I shall resort for my ultimate perfection. 36. The lord replied:--There are verily two forms of the all pervading Vishnu, the exoteric and the other esoteric; that having a body and hands holding the conch-shell, the discus, and the mace and lotus, is the common form for public worship. 37. The other is the esoteric or spiritual form, which is undefined and without its beginning and end; and is usually expressed by the term Brahma--great. 38. As long as you are unacquainted with the nature of the supreme soul, and are not awakened to the light of the spirit; so long should you continue to adore the form of the God with its four arms. (or the form of the four armed God). 39. By this means you will be awakened to light, by your knowledge of the supreme; and when you come to comprehend the Infinite in yourself, you shall have no more to be born in any mortal form. 40. When you are acquainted with the knowledge of the knowable soul, then will your soul find its refuge in eternal soul of Hari, who absorbs all souls in him. 41. When I tell you that this is I and I am that, mind that I mean to say that, this and that is the Ego of the supreme soul, which I assume to myself for your instruction. 42. I understand you to be enlightened to truth, and to rest in the state of supreme felicity; and now that you are freed from all your temporal desires, I wish you to be one with the true and holy spirit. 43. View in yourself the soul of all beings and those beings themselves; think your own self or soul as the microcosm of the great universe, and be tolerant and broad sighted in your practice of Yoga. (The word _Sama darsi_, here rendered broad sighted, means one who sees every[one] in one and [the] same light; whence it is synonymous with universal benevolence and fellow feeling). 44. He who worships the universal soul that resides in all beings, as the one self-same and undivided spirit; is released from the doom of repeated births, whether he leads a secular or holy life in this world. 45. The meaning of the word "all" is unity (in its collective sense), and the meaning of the word "one" is the unity of the soul; as in the phrase "All is one" it is meant to say that the whole universe is collectively but one soul. (The soul also is neither a positive entity, nor a negative non-entity, but it is as it is known in the spirit. (of the form of ineffable light and delight).) 46. He who shines as light within the minds of all persons, and dwells in the inward consciousness or percipience of every being, is no other than the very soul that dwells within myself also. 47. That which is settled in shape of savour in the waters all over the three worlds. (_i.e._ in the earth, heaven, and underneath the ground); and what gives flavour to the milk, curd and the butter of the bovine kind, and dwells as sapidity in the marine salt and other saline substances, and imparts its sweetness to saccharine articles, the same is this savoury soul, which gives a gust to our lives, and a good taste to all the objects of our enjoyment. 48. Know your soul to be that percipience, which is situated in the hearts of all corporeal beings, whose rarity eludes our perception of it, and which is quite removed from all perceptibles; and is therefore ubiquitous in every thing and omnipresent every where. 49. As the butter is inbred in all kinds of milk, and the sap of all sappy substances is inborn in them, so the supreme soul is intrinsical and immanent in every thing. 50. As all the gems and pearls of the sea, have a lustre inherent in them, and which shines forth both in their inside and outside; so the soul shines in and out of every body without being seated in any part of it, whether in or out or where about it. 51. As the air pervades both in the inside and outside of all empty pots, so the spirit of God is diffused in and about all bodies in all the three worlds. (This is the meaning of omnipresence). 52. As hundreds of pearls are strung together by a thread in the necklace, so the soul of God extends through and connects these millions of beings, without its being known by any. (This all connecting attribute of God, is known as sútrátmá in the Vedánta). 53. He who dwells in the hearts of every body in the world, commencing from Brahma to the object grass that grows on the earth; the essence which is common in all of them, is the Brahma the unborn and undying. 54. Brahmá is a slightly developed form of Brahma, and resides in the spirit of the great Brahma, and the same dwelling in us, makes us conceive of our egoism by mistake of the true Ego. 55. The divine soul being manifest in the form of the world, say what can it be that destroys or is destroyed in it; and tell me, Arjuna, what can it be that is subject to or involved in pleasure or pain. 56. The divine soul is as a large mirror, showing the images of things upon its surface, like reflexions on the glass; and though these reflexions disappear and vanish in time, yet the mirror of the soul is never destroyed, but looks as it looked before. 57. When I say I am this and not the other (of my many reflexions in a prismatic glass, or of my many images in many pots of water), I am quite wrong and inconsistent with myself; so is it to say, that the human soul is the spirit or image of God, and not that of any other being, when the self-same Divine spirit is present and immanent in all. (The catholic spirit of the Hindu religion, views all beings to partake of the Divine spirit, which is in all as in a prismatic glass). 58. The revolutions of creation, sustentation and final dissolution, take place in an unvaried and unceasing course in the spirit of God, and so the feelings on surface of the waters of the sea. (Egoistic feelings rising from the boisterous mind, subside in the calmness of the soul). 59. As the stone is the constituent essence of rocks, the wood of trees and the water of waves; so is the soul the constituent element of all existence. 60. He who sees the soul (as inherent) in all substances, and every substance (to be contained) in the soul; and views both as the component of one another, sees the uncreating God as the reflector and reflexion of Himself. 61. Know Arjuna, the soul to be the integrant part of every thing, and the constituent element of the different forms and changes of things; as the water is of the waves, and the gold is of jewelleries. (The spirit of God is believed as the material cause of all). 62. As the boisterous waves are let loose in the waters, and the jewels are made of gold; so are all things existent in and composed of the spirit of God. 63. All material beings of every species, are forms of the Great Brahma himself; know this one as all, and there is nothing apart or distinct from him. 64. How can there be an independent existence, or voluntary change of anything in the world; where can they or the world be, except in the essence and omnipresence of God, and wherefore do you think of them in vain? 65. By knowing all this as I have told you, the saints live fearless in this world by reflecting on the supreme Being in themselves; they move about as liberated in their lifetime, with the equanimity of their souls. 66. The enlightened saints attain to their imperishable states, by being invincible to the errors of fiction, and unsubdued by the evils of worldly attachment; they remain always in their spiritual and holy states, by being freed from temporal desires, and the conflicts of jarring passions, doubts and dualities. CHAPTER LIV. ADMONITION OF ARJUNA IN SPIRITUAL KNOWLEDGE. Arguments--The causes of the feelings of Pleasure and Pain, and Happiness and Misery in this world, and the modes and means of their prevention and avoidance. The lord continued:--Listen moreover, O mighty armed Arjuna, to the edifying speech, which I am about to deliver unto you, for the sake of your lasting good and welfare. 2. Know O progeny of Kunti, that the perception of the senses, or the feelings conveyed to our minds by the organic sense, such as those of cold and heat and the like, are the causes of our bodily pleasure and pain; but as these are transitory, and come to us and pass away by turns, you must remain patient under them. 3. Knowing neither the one nor the other to be uniform and monotonous, what is it thou callest as real pleasure or pain? A thing having no form or figure of its own, can have no increase or decrease in it. 4. Those who have suppressed the feelings of their senses, by knowing the illusory nature of sensible perceptions; are content to remain quiet with an even tenor of their minds, both in their prosperity and adversity; are verily the men that are thought to taste the ambrosial draught of immortality in their mortal state. 5. Knowing the soul to be the same in all states, and alike in all places and times; they view all differences and accidents of life with indifference, and being sure of the unreality of unrealities, they retain their endurance under all the varying circumstances of life. 6. Never can joy or grief take possession of the common soul, which being ecumenical in its nature, can never be exceptional or otherwise. 7. The unreal has no existence, nor is the positive a negative at any time; so there can be nothing as a positive felicity or infelicity either in any place, when God himself is present in his person every where. (They are all alike to God and Godly soul). 8. Abandon the thoughts of felicity or infelicity of the world (nor be like the laughing or crying philosopher with your one sided view of either the happiness or misery of life), and seeing there is no such difference in the mind of God, stick fast in this last state of indifference to both. 9. Though the intelligent soul, and the external phenomena, are closely situated in the inside and outside of the body; Yet the internal soul is neither delighted nor depressed, by the pleasure or pain which environ the external body. 10. All pleasure and pain relating the material body, touch the mind which is situated in it; but no bodily hurt or debility affects the soul, which is seated beyond it. 11. Should the soul be supposed to participate, in the pleasure or pain which affect the gross body, it is to be understood as caused by the error, rising from our ignorance only. 12. The gross is no reality, and its feelings of pain or pleasure are never real ones, as to touch the intangible soul; for who is so senseless, as not to perceive the wide separation of the soul from the body? 13. What I tell you here, O progeny of Bhárata, will surely destroy the error arising from ignorance, by the full understanding of my lectures. 14. As knowledge removes the error and fear of the snake, arising from one's ignorance in a rope; so our misconception of the reality of our bodies and their pleasures and pains, is dispelled by our knowledge of truth. 15. Know the whole universe to be identic with increate Brahma, and is neither produced nor dissolved by itself, knowing this as a certain truth, believe in Brahma only, as the most supreme source of all tree knowledge. 16. You are but a little billow in the sea of Brahma's essence; you rise and roll for a little while, and then subside to rest. You foam and froth in the whirlpool of Brahma's existence, and art no other than a drop of water in the endless ocean of Brahma. 17. As long as we are in action under the command of our general, we act our parts like soldiers in the field; we all live and move in Brahma alone, and there is no mistake of right or wrong in this. (Act well our part and there all honour lies). 18. Abandon your pride and haughtiness, your sorrow and fear, and your desire of pain or pleasure; it is bad to have any duality or doubt in you, be good with your oneness or integrity at all times. 19. Think this in yourself from the destruction of these myriads of forces under your arms, that all these are evolved out of Brahma, and you do more than evolve or reduce them to Brahma himself. 20. Do not care for your pleasure or pain, your gain or loss, and your victory or defeat; but resort only to the unity of Brahma, and know the world as the vast ocean of Brahma's entity. 21. Being alike in or unchanged by your loss or gain, and thinking yourself as nobody; and go on in your proper course of action, as a gust of wind takes its own course. 22. Whatever you do or take to your food, whatever sacrifices you make or any gift that you give to any one, commit them all to Brahma, and remain quiet in yourself. (With an assurance of their happy termination by the help of God). 23. Whoever thinks in his mind, of becoming anything in earnest; he undoubtedly becomes the same in process of time; if therefore you wish to become as Brahma himself, learn betimes to assimilate yourself to the nature of Brahma, in all your thoughts and deeds. (It is imitation of perfection, that gives perfection to man). 24. Let one who knows the great Brahma, be employed in doing his duties as occur unto him, without any expectation and any reward; and as God does his works without any aim, so should the Godly do their works without any object. 25. He who sees the inactive God in all his active duties, and sees also all his works in the inactive Gods; that man is called the most intelligent among men, and he is said the readiest discharger of his deeds and duties. 26. Do not do thy works in expectation of their rewards, nor engage thyself to do any thing that is not thy duty or improper for thee. Go on doing thy duties as in thy yoga or fixed meditation, and not in connection with other's or their rewards. 27. Neither be addicted to active duties, nor recline in your inactivity either; never remain ignorant or negligent of thy duties in life, but continue in thy work with an even temper at all times. 28. That man though employed in business, is said to be doing nothing at all; who does not foster the hope of a reward of his acts, and is ever contented in himself, even without a patron or refuge. 29. It is the addictedness of one's mind to anything, that makes it his action, and not the action itself without such addiction; it is ignorance which is the cause of such tendency, therefore ignorance is to be avoided by all means. 30. The great soul that is settled in divine knowledge; and is freed from its wont or bent to any thing, may be employed in all sorts of works, without being reckoned as the doer of any. (One is named by the work of his profession, and not by his attendance to a thousand other callings in life). 31. He who does nothing, is indifferent about its result (whether of good or evil), this indifference amounts to his equanimity, which leads to his endless felicity, which is next to the state of God-head. (The sentence is climacteric rising from inactivity to the felicity of the Deity). 32. By avoiding the dirt of duality and plurality (of beliefs), betake yourself to your belief in the unity of the supreme spirit, and then whether you do or not do your ceremonial acts, you will not be accounted as the doer. 33. He is called a wise man by the learned, whose acts in life are free from desire or some object of desire; and whose ceremonial acts are burnt away by the fire of spiritual knowledge. (It is said that the merit of ceremonial observances, leads a man only to reward in repeated births; but divine knowledge removes the doom of transmigration, by leading the soul at once to divine felicity, from which no one has to return to revisit the earth.) 34. He who remains with a peaceful, calm, quiet and tranquil equanimity of the soul, and without any desire or avarice for anything in this world, may be doing his duties here, without any disturbance or anxiety of his mind. 35. The man who has no dispute with any one, but is ever settled with calm and quiet rest of his soul; which is united with the supreme soul, without its Yoga or Ceremonial observance, and is satisfied with whatever is obtained of itself; such a man is deemed as a decoration of this earth. 36. They are called ignorant hypocrites, who having repressed their organs of actions, still indulge themselves in dwelling upon sensible pleasures, by recalling their thoughts in this mind. 37. He who has governed his outward and inward senses, by the power of his sapient mind; and employs his organs of action, in the performance of his bodily functions and discharges of his ceremonial observances without his addictedness to them, is quite different from the one described before. 38. As the overflowing waters of rivers, fall into the profound and motionless body of waters in the sea; so the souls of holy men enter into the ocean of eternal God, where they are attended with a peaceful bliss, which is never to be obtained by avaricious worldlings. CHAPTER LV. LECTURE ON THE LIVING SOUL OR _Jívatatwa_. Arguments.--The unity and reality is the causal subjective, and the duality and unreality is the objective worlds; and the situation of God between the two, means his witnessing both of these without being either of them, because the conditions of the cause and the caused do not apply to God who is beyond all attributes. The Lord said:--Neither relinquish or abstain from your enjoyments, nor employ your minds about them or in the acquisition of the object thereof. Remain with an even tenor of your mind, and be content with what comes to thee. 2. Never be so intimately related to thy body, that is not intimately related with thee; but remain intimately connected with thyself, which is thy increate and imperishable soul. 3. We suffer no loss by the loss of our bodies (which are but adscititious garments of our souls); but we lose every thing, by the loss of our souls which last forever and never perish. 4. The soul is not weakened like the sentient mind, by the loss of the sensible objects of enjoyment, and incessantly employed in action, yet it does nothing by itself. 5. It is one's addictedness to an action that makes it his act, and this even when one is no actor of the same; it is ignorance only that incites the mind to action, and therefore this ignorance is required to be removed from it by all means. 6. The great minded man that is acquainted with the superior knowledge of spirituality, forsakes his tendency to action, and does everything that comes to him without his being the actor thereof. 7. Know thy soul to be without its beginning and end, and undecaying and imperishable in its nature; the ignorant think it perishable, and you must not fall into this sad error like them. 8. The best of men that are blest with spiritual knowledge, do not look the soul in the same light as the ignorant vulgar; who either believe the soulless matter as the soul, or think themselves as incorporate souls by their egoistic vanity. 9. Arjuna said:--If it is so, O lord of worlds! then I ween that the loss of the body is attended with no loss or gain to the ignorant (because they have nothing to care for an immortal soul like the learned). 10. The lord replied:--so it is, O mighty armed Arjuna! they lose nothing by the loss of the perishable body, but they know that the soul is imperishable, and its loss is the greatest of all losses. 11. How be it, I see no greater mistake of men in this world; than when they say, that they have lost anything or gained something that never belongs to them. It appears like the crying of a barren woman for her child, which she never had, nor is expected to have at any time. 12. That it is axiomatic truth established by the learned, and well known to all men of common sense, though the ignorant may not perceive it verily, that an unreality can not come to reality, nor a reality go to nothing at any time. (This equivalent to the definite propositions, "what is, is; and what is not, is naught; or that, positive can not be the negative, not the negative an affirmative"). 13. Now know that to be imperishable, that has spread out this perishable and frail world; and there is no one that can destroy the indestructible (or the entity of the immortal soul). 14. The finite bodies are said to be the abode of the infinite soul, and yet the destruction of the finite and frail, entails no loss upon the infinite and imperishable soul. Know therefore the difference between the two. 15. The soul is a unity without a duality, and there is no possibility of its nihility. (because the unity is certain reality, and duality is a nullity). The eternal and infinite reality of the soul, can never be destroyed with the destruction of the body. 16. Leaving aside the unity and duality, take that which remains, and know that state of tranquillity which is situated between the reality and unreality, to be the state of the transcendental Deity. 17. Arjuna rejoined:--such being the nature of the soul, then tell me, O lord, what is the cause of this certainty in man that he is dying, and what makes him think, that he is either going to heaven above or to the hell below. (What is the cause of heavenly bliss and the torments of hell). 18. The lord replied:--know Arjuna! There is a living soul dwelling in the body, and composed of the elements of earth, air, water, fire and vacuum, as also of the mind and understanding: (all of which being destructible in their nature, cause the destructibility of the living principle, and its subjection to pain and pleasure in this life and in the next. gloss). 19. The embodied and living soul is led by its desire, as the young of a beast is carried about tied by a rope on its neck; and it dwells in the recess of the body, like a bird in the cage. (Both states of its living and moving about in the body, are as troublesome as they are compulsory to it). 20. Then as the body is worn out and becomes infirm in course of time, the living soul leaves it like the moisture of a dried leaf, and flies to where it is led by its inborn desire. (The difference of desire causes the difference of new births and bodies. gloss). 21. It carries with it the senses of hearing, seeing, feeling, taste, touch and smell from its body, as the breeze wafts the fragrance from the cells of flowers (or as a wayfarer carries his valuables with him). 22. The body is the production of one's desire, and has no other assignable cause to it; it weakens by the weakening of its desire, and being altogether weak and wasted, it becomes extinct in its final absorption in the god-head (because the want of desire and dislike, makes a man to become like his god; or as perfect as god, who has nothing to desire and dislike). 23. The avaricious man, being stanch with his concupiscence, passes through many wombs into many births; like a magician is skilled in leaping up and down in earth and air. (The magician _máyá_, _purusha_, means also a juggler or athlete who shows his feats in air as an aeronaut). 24. The parting soul carries with her the properties of the senses from the sensible organs of the body; just as the flying breeze bears with him the fragrance of flowers, in his flight through the sky. 25. The body becomes motionless, after the soul has fled from it; just as the leaves and branches of trees, remain unruffled after the winds are still. (_i.e._ As the breeze shakes the tree, so the vital breath moves the body, and this being stopped, the body becomes quiescent which is called its death). 26. When the body becomes inactive, and insensible to the incision and wounds that are inflicted upon it, it is then called to be dead, or to have become lifeless. 27. As this soul resides in any part of the sky, in its form of the vital air, it beholds the very same form of things manifested before it, as it was wont to desire when living. (The departed soul dwells either in spiritual or elemental sphere of the sky, and views itself and all other things in the same state as they are imprest in it, in their relation to time, place and form. Gloss. This passage will clear Locke's and Parker's question, as to the form which the soul is to have after its resurrection). 28. The soul comes to find all these forms and bodies, to be as unreal as those it has left behind; and so must you reckon all bodies after they are destroyed, unless you be so profoundly asleep as to see and know nothing. 29. Brahmá--the lord of creation, has created all beings according to the images, that were impressed in his mind in the beginning. He sees them still to continue and die in the same forms. (So the soul gets its body as it thinks upon, and then lives and dies in the same form). 30. Whatever form or body the soul finds on itself, on its first and instantaneous springing to life; the same is invariably impressed in its consciousness, until its last moment of death. (This fixed impression of the past, produces its reminiscence in the future, which forms and frames the being according to its own model). 31. The pristine desire of a man, is the root of his present manliness, which becomes the cause of his future success. So also the present exertion of one, is able to correct and make up not only his past mistakes and deficits; but also to edify upon his rugged hut of old. (_i.e._ that is to improve his dilapidated state and build the fabric of his future fame and fortune). 32. Whatever is pursued with ardent exertion and diligence for a while, the same in particular is gained among all other objects of one's former and future pursuit (which are reckoned under the four predicaments (_Chaturvarga_) of wealth and pleasure for this life, and virtue and salvation for the next). 33. Whether a man is exposed on the barren rock of Vindhya, or blown and borne away by the winds, he is yet supported by his manhood; therefore the wise man should never decline to discharge the legal duties, that are required of him at all times. 34. Know the heaven and hell of which you ask, to be creatures of the old prejudices of men; they are the productions of human wish, and exist in the customary bias of the populace. 35. Arjuna said:--Tell me, O lord of the world! what is that cause, which gave rise to the prejudice of a heaven and hell. (A future state of reward and retribution, is a common belief of all mankind on earth). 36. The Lord replied:--These prejudices are as false as airy dreams, and have their rise from our desire (of future retribution); which waxing strong by our constant habit of thinking them as true, make us believe them as such, as they mislead us to rely on the reality of the unreal world. Therefore we must shun our desires for our real good. 37. The Lord replied:--Ignorance is the source of our desires, as it is the main spring of our error of taking the unself for the true self; it is the knowledge of the self therefore combined with right understanding, that can dispel the error of our desires. (_i.e._ Ignorance of the nature of a thing, excites our desire for it, as our knowledge of the same, serves to suppress it). 38. You are best acquainted with the self, O Arjuna! and well know the truth also; therefore try to get off your error of yourself and not yourself, as this I and that another, as also of your desires for yourself and other. 39. Arjuna said:--But I ween that the living soul dies away, with the death of its desires; because the desire is the support of the soul, which must languish and droop down for want of a desire. (So says sir Hamilton: Give me something to do and desire, and so I live or else I pine away and die). 40. Tell me moreover, what thing is it that is subject to future births and deaths, after the living soul perishes with its body at any time or place (or after it has fled from it to some other region). 41. The Lord replied:--Know the wistful soul, O intelligent Arjuna! to be of the form of the desire of the heart, as also of the form that anyone has framed for himself in his imagination. (_i.e._ The form of individual soul, is according to the figure that one has of himself in his mind and heart). 42. The soul that is self-same with itself, and unaltered in all circumstances; that is never subject to body or any desire on earth, but is freed from all desires by its own discretion, is said to be liberated in this life. 43. Living in this manner (or self-independence), you must always look to and be in search of truth; and being released from the snare of worldly cares, you are said to be liberated in this life. 44. The soul that is not freed from its desires, is said to be pent up as a bird in its cage; and though a man may be very learned, and observant of all his religious rites and duties, yet he is not said to be liberated, as long as he labours in the chains of his desires. 45. The man who sees the train of desires, glimmering in the recess of his heart and mind, is like a purblind man who sees the bespangled train of peacocks tail in the spotless sky. He is said to be liberated whose mind is not bound to the chain of desire, and it is one's release from this chain that is called his liberation in this life and in the next. CHAPTER LVI. DESCRIPTION OF THE MIND. Argument:--On the liberation of the living soul, and description of the mind as the miniature of the world. The Lord continued:--Now Arjuna, forsake your sympathy for your friends, by the coldheartedness that you have acquired from the abandonment of your desires and cares, and the liberation that you have attained to in this your living state. 2. Be dispassionate, O sinless Arjuna! by forsaking your fear of death and decay of the body; and be as clear as the unclouded sky in your mind, by driving away the clouds of your cares from it, and dispelling all your aims and attempts either of good or evil for yourself or others. 3. Discharge your duties as they come to you in the course of your life, and do well whatever is proper to be done, that no action of yours may go for nothing (_i.e._ Do well or do nothing). 4. Whoso does any work that comes to him of itself in the course of his life, that man is called to be liberated in his life time; and the discharge of such deeds, belongs to the condition of living liberation. 5. That I will do this and not that, or accept of this one and refuse the other, are the conceits of foolishness; but they are all alike to the wise (who have no choice in what is fit and proper for them). 6. Those who do the works which occur to them, with the cool calmness of their minds, are said to be the living liberated; and they continue in their living state, as if they are in their profound sleep. 7. He who has contracted the members of his body, and curbed the organs of his senses in himself, from their respective outward objects, resembles a tortoise, that rests in quiet by contracting its limbs within itself. 8. The universe resides in the universal soul, and continues therein in all the three present, past and future times, as the painting-master of the mind, draws the picture of the world in the aerial canvas. 9. The variegated picture of the world, which is drawn by the painter of the mind in the empty air, is as void as the vacant air itself, and yet appearing as prominent as a figure in relief, and as plain as a pikestaff. 10. Though the formless world rests on the plane of vacuity, yet the wonderous error of our imagination shows it as conspicuous to view; as a magician shows his aerial cottage to our deluded sight. 11. As there is no difference in the plane surface of the canvas, which shows the swelling and depression of the figures in the picture to our sight; so there is no convexity or concavity in the dead flat of the spirit, which presents the uneven world to view. (_i.e._ All things are even in the spirit of God, however uneven they may appear to us). 12. Know, O red eyed Arjuna! the picture of the world in the empty vacuum is as void as the vacuity itself; it rises and sets in the mind, as the temporary scenes which appear in imagination at the fit of a delirium. 13. So is this world all hollow both in the inside and outside of it, though it appears as real as an air drawn city of our imagination, by our prejudice or long habit of thinking it so. (A deep rooted prejudice cannot soon be removed). 14. Without cogitation the truth appears as false, and the false as true as in a delirium; but by excogitation of it, the truth comes to light, and the error or untruth vanishes in nubila. 15. As the autumnal sky, though it appears bright and clear to the naked eye, has yet the flimsy clouds flying over it, so the picture drawn over the plane of the inane mind, presents the figures of our fancied objects in it. (Such is the appearance of our imaginary world and our fancied friends in the perspective of the mind). 16. The baseless and unsubstantial world which appears on the outside, is but a phantasy and has no reality in it; and when there is nothing as you or I or any one in real existence, say who can destroy one or be destroyed by another. 17. Drive away your false conception of the slayer and slain from your mind, and rest in the pure and bright sphere of the Divine spirit; because there is no stir or motion in the intellectual sphere of God, which is ever calm and quiet. All commotions appertain to the mental sphere, and the action of the restless mind. 18. Know the mind to contain every thing in its clear sphere, such as time and space, the clear sky, and all actions and motions and positions of things; as the area of a map presents the sites of all places upon its surface. 19. Know the mind to be more inane and rarefied than the empty air, and it is upon that basis the painter of the intellect, has drawn the picture of this immense universe. 20. But the infinite vacuum being wholly inane, it has not that diversity and divisibility in it, as they exhibit themselves in the mind, in the rearing up and breaking down of its aerial castle. (The imagination of the mind raises and erases its fabrics; but those of vacuum are fixed and firm for ever). 21. So the earthly mortals seem to be born and die away every moment, as the chargeful thoughts of the all-engrossing mind, are ever rising and subsiding in it. 22. Though the erroneous thoughts of the mind, are so instantaneous and temporary; yet it has the power of stretching out the ideas of the length and duration of the world, as it has of producing new ideas of all things from nothing. (So God created every thing out of nothing). 23. The mind has moreover the power of prolonging a moment to a kalpa age; as of enlarging a minim to a mountain, and of increasing a little to a multitude. 24. It has the power also of producing a thing from nothing, and of converting one to another in a trice; it is this capacity of it, which gives rise to the erroneous conception of the world, in the same manner, as it raises the airy castle and fairy lands of its own nature in a moment. 25. It has likewise brought this wonderous world into existence, which rose out in the twinkling of an eye, as a reflexion and not creation of it. (Because the disembodied mind can not create any material thing). 26. All these are but ideal forms and shadowy shapes of imagination, though they appear as hard and solid as adamant; they are the mistaken ideas of some unknown form and substance. 27. Whether you desire or dislike your worldly interests, show me where lies its solidity, both in your solicitude as well as indifference about it; the mind being itself situated in the intellect of the Divine contriver, the picture of the world, can not have its place any where else. (The world being in the mind, and this again in the Divine intellect, the world must be situated also in the same, which is the main receptacle of the world also). 28. O how very wonderous bright is this prominent picture, which is drawn on no base or coating, and which is so conspicuous before us, in various pieces without any paint or color whereof it is made. 29. O how pleasant is this perspicuous picture of the world, and how very attractive to our sight. It was drawn on the inky coating of chaotic darkness, and exhibited to the full blaze of various lights (of the sun, moon, stars and primeval light). 30. It is fraught in diverse colors, and filled with various objects of our desire in all its different parts; it exhibits many shows which are pleasant to sight, and presents all things to view of which have the notions in our minds. 31. It presents many planets and stars before us, shining in their different shapes and spheres all about. The blue vault of heaven resembling a cerulean lake, brightens with the shining sun, moon and stars liking its blooming and blossoming lotuses. 32. There are the bodies of variegated clouds, pendant as the many coloured leaves of trees on the azure sky; and appearing as pictures of men, gods and demons, drawn over the domes of the three regions (of earth, heaven and hell below, in their various appearances of white, bright and dark). 33. The fickle and playful painter of the mind, has sketched and stretched out the picture of the sky, as an arena for the exhibition of the three worlds, as its three different stages; where all deluded peoples are portrayed as joyful players, acting their parts under the encircling light of the supreme Intellect. (The world is a stage, and all men and women its players, Shakespeare). 34. Here is the actress with her sedate body of golden hue, and her thick braids of hair; her eyes glancing on the people with flashes of sunshine and moon-beams, the rising ground is her back and her feet reaching the infernal regions; and being, clothed with the robe of the sástra, she acts the plays of morality, opulence and the farce of enjoyments. 35. The Gods Brahmá, Indra, Hari and Hara, form her four arms of action, the property of goodness is her bodice, and the two virtues of discretion and apathy, are her prominent breasts. The earth resting on the head of the infernal Serpent, is her lotus like foot-stool upheld by its stalk; She is decorated on the face and forehead with the paints of mineral mountains, whose valleys and caves form belly and bowels. 36. The fleeting glances of her eyes dispelling the gloom of night, and the twinkling of stars are as the erection of hairs on her body; the two rows of her teeth emitted the rays of flashing lightnings, and all earthly beings are as the hairs on her person, and rising as piles about the bulb of a _Kadamba_ flower. 37. This earth is filled with living souls, subsisting in the spacious vacuum of the Universal soul, and appearing as figures in painting drawn in it. This the skilful artist of the mind, that has displayed this illusive actress of the Universe, to show her various features as in a puppet show. CHAPTER LVII. ON ABANDONMENT OF DESIRE AND ITS RESULT OF TRANQUILLITY. Argument:--The final lecture to Arjuna on the Peace of mind resulting from its want of desire. The Lord said:--Look here, O Arjuna! The great wonder which is manifest in this subject; it is the appearance of the picture, prior to that of the plane of the plan upon which it is drawn. (The appearance of the mind or painting, before that of Viráj or the spirit of God which exhibits the painting. Gloss). 2. The prominence of the painting and the non-appearance of its basis, must be as wonderous as the buoyancy of a block of stone, and the sinking down of gourd shell as is shown in a magic play. 3. The Universe resting in the vacuity of the Divine spirit, appears as a picture on the tablet of the mind; say then how does this egoism or self knowledge of your substantiality, arise from the bosom of the vacuous nullity. (_i.e._ How can substantial spring from the unsubstantial, or some thing come out of nothing). 4. All these being the vacant production of vacuum, are swallowed up likewise in the vacuous womb of an infinite vacuity; they are no more than hollow shadows of emptiness, and stretched out in empty air. 5. This empty air is spread over with the snare of our desires, stretching as wide as the sphere of these outstretched worlds; it is the band of our desire that encircles the worlds as their great belt. 6. The world is situated in Brahmá as a reflexion in the mirror, and is not subject to partition or obliteration; owing to its inherence in its receptacle, and its identity with the same. 7. The indissoluble vacuum being the nature of Brahma, is inseparable from his essence; for nobody is ever able to divide the empty air in twain or remove it from its place. 8. It is owing to your ignorance of this, that your concupiscence has become congenial with your nature; which it is hard for it to get rid of, notwithstanding its being fraught with every virtue. 9. He who has sown the smallest seed of desire in the soul of his heart, is confined as a lion in the cage, though he may be very wise and learned in all things. 10. The desire which is habitual to one, grows as rank as a thick wood in his breast; unless it is burnt away in the seed by the knowledge of truth, when it cannot vegetate any more. 11. This mind is no more inclined to any thing, who has burnt away the seed of his desire at once; he remains untouched by pleasure and pain, like the lotus-leaf amidst the water. 12. Now therefore, O Arjuna! do you remain calm and quiet in your spirit, be undaunted and devoid of all desire in your mind; melt down the mist of your mental delusion by the heat of your _nirvána_ devotion, and from all that you have learnt from my holy lecture to you, remain in perfect tranquillity with your reliance in the Supreme spirit. CHAPTER LVIII. ARJUNA'S SATISFACTION AT THE SERMON. Argument:--The knowledge of truth dispels the doubts, and leads to display his valorous deeds in warfare. Arjuna said:--Lord! it is by thy kindness, that I am freed from my delusion, and have come to the reminiscence of myself. I am now placed above all doubts, and will act as you have said. 2. The Lord replied:--when you find the feelings and faculties of your heart and mind, to be fully pacified by means of your knowledge; then understand your soul to have attained its tranquillity, and the property of goodness or purity of its nature. (Sattwa Swabháva). 3. In this state, the soul becomes insensible of all mental thoughts, and full of intelligence in itself; and being freed from all inward and outward perceptions, it perceives in itself the one Brahma who is all and everywhere. 4. No worldly being can observe this elevated state of the soul, as no body can see the bird that has fled from the earth into the upper sky. 5. The pure soul which is devoid of desire, becomes full of intelligence and spiritual light; and it is not to be perceived by even the foresighted observer. (It is the soul's approximation to the Divine state). 6. No body can perceive this transcendental and transparent state of the soul, without purifying his desires at first; it is a state as imperceptible to the impure, as the minutest particle of an atom, is unperceivable by the naked eye. 7. Attainment of this state, drives away the knowledge of all sensible objects as of pots, plates, and others. What thing therefore is so desirable, as to be worth desiring before the Divine presence. 8. As the frost and ice melt away before a volcanic mountain, so doth our ignorance fly afar, from the knowledge of the intellectual soul. (_i.e._ Intellectual knowledge drives away all ignorance before it). 9. What are these mean desires of us, that blow away like the dust of the earth, and what are our possessions and enjoyments but snares to entangle our souls? 10. So long doth our ignorance (avidyá) flaunt herself in her various shapes, as we remain ignorant of the pure and modest nature of our inmost souls in ourselves. (Self-knowledge is shy and modest, while ignorance is full of vanity and boast). 11. All outward appearances fade away and faint (before the naked eye), and appear in their pellucid forms in the inmost soul, which grasps the whole in itself, as the vacuum contains the plenum in it. 12. That which shows all forms in it, without having or showing any form of itself; is that transcendent substance which is beyond description, and transcends our comprehension of it. 13. Now get rid of the poisonous and cholic pain of your desire of gain, as also of the permanence of your own existence; mutter to yourself the mantra of your resignation of desirables, and thus prosper in the world without fear for anything. 14. Vasishtha said:--After the Lord of the three worlds had spoken the words, Arjuna remained silent for a moment before him; and then like a bee sitting beside a blue lotus, uttered the following words to the sable bodied Krishna. 15. Arjuna said:--Lord! Thy words have dispelled all grief from my heart, and the light of truth is rising in my mind; as when the sun rises to awaken the closed and sleeping lotus. 16. Vasishtha said:--After saying so, Arjuna being cleared of all his doubts, laid hold on his Gándíva bow, and rose with Hari for his charioteer, in order to proceed to his warlike exploits. 17. He will transform the face of the earth to a sea of blood, gushing out of the bodies of combatants, their charioteers and horses and elephants that will be wounded by him; the flights of his arrows and thickening darts, will hide the disk of the sun in the sky, and darken the face of the earth with flying dust. CHAPTER LIX. KNOWLEDGE OF THE LATENT AND INSCRUTABLE SOUL. Argument:--The incomprehensible nature of God, expressed by indefinite predicates, and his Latency in the works of creation. Vasishtha continued:--Keep this lesson in view, O Ráma! and know it as the purifier of all sins; remain in your resignation of all attachments, and resign yourself to God. 2. Know the Supreme soul, in which all things reside, from which everything has issued, and which is everything itself on all sides of us; it is changed through all, and is ever the same in itself. 3. It seems to be afar though it is nearest to us, it appears to be ubiquitous though ever situated in everything. It is by that essence thou livest, and it is undoubtedly what thou art thyself. (There is but one unity pervading over all varieties). 4. Know that to be the highest predicament, which is above the knowables, and is knowledge or intelligence by itself; which is beyond our thoughts and thinkables, and is the thinking principle or intellect itself. (Beyond thought Divine. Milton). 5. It is preeminent consciousness and that supreme felicity, and passing wonder of our sight; which surpasses the majesty of majesties, and is the most venerable of venerables. 6. This thing is the soul and its cognition, it is vacuum which is the immensity of the supreme Brahma; it is the chief good (summum Bonum) which is felicity and tranquillity itself; and it is full knowledge or omniscience, and the highest of all states. 7. The soul that abides in the intellect, and is of the form of the conception of all things: that which feels and perceives every thing, and remains by its own essence. 8. It is the soul of the universe, like the oil of the sesame seed; it is the pith of the arbor of the world, its light and life of all its animal beings. 9. It is the thread connecting all beings together like pearls in a necklace, which is suspended on the breast of empty air; (the sutrátma that connects all nature). It is the flavour of all things like the pungency of pepper. 10. It is the essence of all substance (ens entium) and a verity which is the most excellent of all the truth of truths; it is the goodness of whatever is good, and the great or greatest good in itself. 11. Which by its omniscience becomes the all that is present in its knowledge, and which we take by our misjudgment for real entities in this world (when our ignorance mistakes the manifest world for its latent cause). 12. We take ourselves the world in mistake of the soul, but all these mistaken entities vanish away before the light of reason. 13. The vacuum of Brahma or the space occupied by the Divine spirit, is without its beginning and end, and cannot be comprehended within the limited space of our souls; knowing this for certain, the wise are employed in their outward duties. 14. That man is freed from his rising and setting (ups and downs), who rests always in the equanimity of his soul, and whose mind is never elated nor dejected at any event, but ever retains the evenness of its tenor. 15. He whose mind is as vacant as the empty air, is called a mahátmá or great soul, and his mind resting in the state of unity, remains with the body in a state of sound sleep. (But this evenness is inadmissible in business and behaviour to a preceptor. So it is said, [Sanskrit: mostly illegible].) 16. The man of business also who preserves the evenness of his mind, remains as undisturbed under the press of his duties, as the reflexion of one in a mirror. They are both the same, being but shadows of reality. 17. He who retains the impression in his mind, in their even and unvaried state, like images in a mirror, is himself as a reflexion in the Divine Intellect. (All beings live and move inseparably in the intellect of God. Gloss). 18. So let a man discharge the customary duties of life as they occur to him, with the pure transparent of his mind; as all the creatures of God perform their several parts, like images imprinted in the divine intellect. 19. There is no unity nor duality in the divine intellect, (where the images are neither inseparably attached to nor detached from it); the application of the words I and thou to one or the other is all relate to the same, and they have come to use from the instruction of our elders. (Human language is learned by imitation). 20. The intellect which of itself is tranquil in itself (_i.e._ in its own nature), acts its wonders in itself (_i.e._ displays or developes itself in the very intellect); it is the pulsation of intellect which displays the universe, as its _vivarta_ or development, and this pulsation is the Omnipotence of God. 21. The pulsation of the Divine Intellect being put to a stop, there ensues a cessation of the course of the universe, and as it with the supreme Intellect, so it is with its parts of individual intellects, whose action and inaction spread out and curb the sphere of their thoughts. 22. What is called consciousness or its action, is a non entity in nature; and that which is a mere vacuum, is said to be the subtile body of the Intellect. (_i.e._ The intellectual powers have no material forms). 23. The world appears as an entity, by our thinking it as such; but it vanishes upon our ceasing to think as such, like the disappearance of figures in a picture, when it is burnt down to ashes. 24. The world appears as one with the Deity, to one who sees the unity only in himself; it is the vibration of the intellect only, that caused the revolution of worlds, as the turning of a potters wheel (is caused by the rotatory motion given to it). 25. As the measure, shape and form of the ornament are not different from the gold, so the action of the intellect, is not separate from it; and it is this which forms the world, as the gold, becomes the ornament and the world and intellect are the same thing, as the ornament and its gold. 26. The mind is the pulsation of the intellect, and it is want of this knowledge that frames a separate world; as it is ignorance of the gold work, that makes the jewel appear as another thing. 27. The mind being wholly absorbed in the intellect, there remains this pure intellect alone; as the nature of one's self or soul being known, there is an end of worldly enjoyments. (He that has known the intellectual world, is not deluded by his sensuous mind; and whoever has tasted his spiritual bliss, does not thirst for sensual pleasures). 28. Disregard of enjoyments is an education of the highest wisdom; hence no kind of enjoyments is acceptable to the wise: (cursed are they that hunger and thirst for enjoyments of this world). 29. Know this to be another indication of wisdom, that no man that has eaten to satiety has ever a zest for any bad food that is offered to him. (_i.e._ No sensual pleasure is delectable before spiritual bliss). 30. Another sign of wisdom is our natural aversion, to enjoyments, and is the sense of one's perception of all pleasures, in the vibrations of his intellect (_i.e._ the mind is the store house of all pleasures). 31. He is known as a wise man, who has this good habit of his deeply rooted in his mind, and he is said to be an intelligent man, who refrains from enjoying whatever is enjoyable in this world. (For thy shall hunger hereafter, who stuff themselves with plenty here below. St. Mathew Ch. v). 32. Again whoso pursues after his perfection, in pursuance of the examples of others, doth strike the air with a stick, or beat the bush in vain in search of the same, because it requires sincerity of purpose to be successful in anything (and not the bodily practices of the ignorant, as they do in _Hatha Yoga_). 33. Some times they emaciate and torture the body in order to have a full view of the inner soul (because they think to be an envelope of the soul, and an obstruction to its full sight); but the intellectual soul, being settled in a thousand objects of its intelligence, it sees only errors instead of the light of the soul. (So the hermits, ascetics, monks, and friars emaciate their bodies, and the religious fanatics torture their persons in vain). 34. So long doth the unconscious spirit flutter in its fickleness, and goes on roving from one object to another; as the light of the understanding do not rise and shine within it. (The ignorant are strangers to rest and quiet). 35. But no sooner doth the light of the tranquil intellect, appear in its brightness within the inward soul; than the flattering of the fickle spirit is put to flight, like the flickering of a lamp after it is extinguished. 36. There is no such thing as vibration nor suspension of the tranquil spirit; because the quiescent soul neither moves forward or backward, nor has its motion in any direction. 37. The soul that is neither unconscious of itself, nor has any vibration in it, is said to be calm and quiet; and as it remains in the state of its indifference to vibrations, and gains its forms of pure transparence, it is no more liable to its bondage in life, nor inquires its _moksha_ liberation to set it free from regeneration. 38. The soul that is settled in itself (or the supreme soul), has no fear of bondage nor need of its liberation also; and the intellect being without its intellection, or having no object to dwell upon, becomes unconscious both of its Existence as well as extinction. (One that is absorbed in his self meditation, is unconscious of everything _in-esse et non-esse_). 39. He that is full in himself with the spirit of God, is equally ignorant both of his bondage and liberation; because the desire of being liberated, indicates want of one's self sufficiency and perfection (or rather the sense of his bondage, from which he wants to be liberated). 40. "Let me then have my equanimity and not my liberation." This desire is also a bondage in itself; and it is the unconsciousness of these, which is reckoned as our chief good. For know the Supreme state to be that, which is pure intelligence and without a shadow. 41. The restoration of the intellect to its proper form consists in divesting it of all its intelligibles; and that form of it (which is marked by desire or the prurient soul), is no more than the oscillation of the great Intellect. (All animal souls are vibrations of the Divine spirit). 42. That only is subject to bondage and liberation, which is seen and destructible in its nature (_i.e._ the visible and perishable body); and not the invisible soul, which take the name of ego, and has no position nor form or figure of itself. 43. We know not what thing it is, that is brought under or loosened from bondage by any one. It is not the pure desire which the wise form for themselves, and does not affect the body. (It is the vibration of mind acting upon the body, and causing its actions that subjects to Bondage). 44. It is therefore, that the wise practise the restraint of their respiring breath, in order to restraint their desires and actions; and being devoid of these, they become as the pure Intellect. 45. These being suppressed, the idea of the world is lost in the density of the intellect; because the thoughts of the mind, are caused by the vibration of the intellect only (and set in also in the same). 46. Thus there remains nothing, nor any action of the body or mind, except the vibration of the intellect; and the phenomenal world is no other, than a protracted dream from one sight to another. The learned are not deluded by these appearances, which they know to be exhibitions of their own minds. 47. Know in thy meditation within thyself that recondite soul, which gives rise to our consciousness of the essences of things, appearing incessantly before us; and in which all these phantasms of our brain, dissolve as dirt in the water; and in which all our perceptions and conceptions of the passing world are flowing on as in a perpetual stream. CHAPTER LX. OF THE MAJESTY AND GRANDEUR OF GOD. Argument.--Manifestation of mysterious magic of the one, uniform and pure Monad in multiform shapes, as a display of his all Comprehensive plenitude fullness. Vasishtha continued:--Such is the first great truth concerning the solidity or of the Divine Intellect, that contains the gigantic forms of Brahmá, Vishnu and Siva in it. 2. It is by means of the greatness of God, that all people are as gaudy as great princes in their several spheres; and are ever exulting in their power of floating and traversing in the regions of open air. (This means both the flight of bird, as well as aerial rambles of Yogis). The Taittiríya Upanishad says:--God has filled the world with joy, and the minute insect is as joyous as the victorious prince: meaning hereby, that God has given to every being its particular share of happiness. 3. It is by their dwelling in the spirit of God, that the earth born mortals are as happy as the inhabitants of heaven; (That have nothing to desire); nay they are free from the pain of sorrow and released from the pangs of death, that have come unto the Lord--(O death where is thy sting, O grave where thy victory? Pope). 4. Yes, they live in Him that have found him, and are not to be restrained by any body; provided they have but taken their refuge under the overspreading umbrage of the supreme spirit. 5. He who meditates for a moment, on the universal essence of all (as the ens entium); he becomes liberated in an instant, and lives as a liberal minded sage or _muni_ on earth. (The sage that sees his God in all and every where through out all nature). 6. He does what are his duties in this world, and never grieves in discharging them. Ráma said:--How is it possible, Sir, to meditate on the universal soul in all things, when the sage has buried his mind, understanding and his egoism and himself in the unity of God? And how can the soul be viewed in the plurality, when all things have been absorbed in the unity? 7. Vashistha replied:--The God that dwells in all bodies, moves them to their actions, and receives their food and drink in himself, that produces all things and annihilates them at last, is of course unknowable to our consciousness (which is conscious of itself only). 8. Now it is this indwelling principle in every thing, that is without beginning and end, and inherent in the nature of all; is called the common essence of all, because it constitutes the _tattwa_ identity (or essential nature or the abstract property) of everything in the world. 9. It dwells as vacuity in the vacuum, and as sonorousness in sound; it is situated as feeling in whatever is felt, and as taction in the objects of touch. 10. It is the taste of all tastables, and the tasting of the tongue; it is the light of all objects of sight, and vision of the organs of seeing. 11. It is the sense of smell in the act of smelling, and the odour in all odorous substance; it is the plumpness of the body, and the solidity and stability of the earth. 12. It is the fluidity of liquids and the flatulence of air; it is the flame and flash of fire, and the cogitation of the understanding. 13. It is the thinking principle of the thoughtful mind, and the ego of our egoism; it is the consciousness of the conscious soul, and the sensible heart. 14. It is the power of vegetation in vegetables, and the perspective in all pictures and paintings; it is the capacity of all pots and vessels, and the tallness of stately trees. 15. It is the immobility of immovables, and the mobility of movable bodies; it is the dull insensibility of stones and blocks, and the intelligence of intelligent beings. 16. It is the immortality and god-head of the immortal gods, and humanity of human beings; it is the curvedness of crooked beasts, and the supine proneness of crawling and creeping insects. 17. It is the current in the course of time, and the revolution and aspects of the seasons; it is the fugacity of fleeting moments, and the endless duration of eternity. 18. It is the whiteness of whatever is white, and blackness of all that is black; it is activity in all actions, and it is stern fixity in the doings of destiny. 19. The supreme spirit is quiescent in all that is sedate, and lasting and evanescent in whatever is passing and perishing; and he shows his productiveness in the production of things. 20. He is the childhood of children, and the youth of young men; he shows himself as fading in the decay and decline of beings, and as his extinction in their death and demise. 21. Thus the all pervading soul, is not apart from anything, as the waves and froths of the foaming sea, are no way distinct from its body of waters. 22. These multiformities of things are all unrealities, and taken for true in our ignorance of the unity; which multiplies itself in our imagination, as children create and produce false apparitions from their unsound understandings. (These as they change are not the varied god as it is generally supposed to be, but various workings of the intellect). 23. It is I, says the lord, that am situated every where, and it is I that pervade the whole; and fill it with all varieties at pleasure; know therefore, O high minded Ráma! that all these varieties are but creatures of imagination in the mind of God, and are thence reflected into the mirror of our minds. Knowing this rest in the calm tranquillity of your soul, and enjoy the undisturbed solace and happiness of your high mind. 24. Válmíki said:--As the sage was saying these things, the day passed away under its evening shade; the sun sank down in its evening devotion, and the assembly broke with mutual salutations to the performance of their eventide ablutions, until they reassembled on the next morning. CHAPTER LXI. DESCRIPTION OF THE WORLD AS A PASSING DREAM. Argument:--How our firm faith arises over this entity, and its answer. Ráma said:--As we are, Oh sage! a dream drawn house, the body of the lotus-born Brahmá--the first progenitor, is the same no doubt. 2. And if this world is a non-entity--_asat_, we must know our existence the same, then how is it possible to arise the firm faith over this entity--_sat_. 3. Vasishtha responded:--We are shining here as a created being by the previous birth of Brahmá, but in fact, the reflexion of soul shines for ever, nothing besides. 4. Owing to the omnipresence of consciousness, all beings exist as reality every where, and if she rises from unreal knowledge, she as real knowledge destroys the unreal one. (vice-versa). 5. Therefore whatever comes from these five elements, is but transitory, but owing to the firm belief on _ego_, we enjoy a firm faith for the same. 6. In a dream, we see good many things as reality; but as soon the dream is over, we do not find the things dreamt of; so we see the reality of the world; as long we remain in ignorance. 7. Oh Ráma! as the dreaming man counts his dream as reality, owing to his faith on it; so this world appears a reality, like the supreme God who has no beginning and end. 8. That which is to be created by the dreaming man, is to be called his own; as we can say by guessing knowledge, what is in the seed, is in the fruit. 9. Whatever comes from non-entity, is to be called non-entity; and that which is unreal though it can be workable, is not reasonable to think good. 10. As the thinking result of unreality is to be given up, so the firm faith which is arising by the dreaming man; is to be given up likewise. 11. Whatever soul creates in dream is our firm belief, but that remains only for a time being (hence it is _asat_--non-entity). 12. Brahmá's long drawn portion is this entity, hence we think also the same, but in fact, this entity is a moment to Brahmá. 13. Consciousness is the creator of all elements, she creates every thing according to her model, hence creator and creation are one and the same. 14. As the backward and forward whirling motion of water, makes the deep to swell, and as also fairy comes near in a dream, so all these are in reality nothing. 15. So this entity with its change (of creation, sustentation and destruction) is nothing. In whatever manner we look [at the] object, that will appear in return in the same manner. 16. The rule of the erroneous dream is not to reproduce (in waking state, what it produces in sleeping state, though it has a power to create something out of nothing) as the production is not in the world, but owing to ignorance it appears so. 17. In the three worlds we see wondrous objects, as we see fire burning in the water like a sub-marine fire. 18. Good many cities exist in vacuity, as birds and stars remain in the sky. We find lotus in a stone like trees growing without an earth. 19. One country gives every kind of object to the seeker, like a tree that gives all objects to the seeker (Kalpa taru) and also we see in a stone and rows of jewels (that is counting beads) giving fruits like fruitful trees. 20. Life exists within a stone (Sálgram) as frog exists. Stone gives water as moon-stone gives. 21. In a dream within a minute good many things can be made and unmade, which in fact, are unreal like one's death in a dream. 22. The natural water of the elements remains in the sky, (that is, in the cloud), when the heavenly river _Mandákiní_ remains in vacuity. 23. The heavy stone flies in the air, when the winged mountain does so. Every thing to be got in stone, when every thing can be secured from the philosopher's stone. 24. In the garden of bliss of Indra every desired object to be got, but in salvation such kind of desired object is wanting. 25. Even dull matter acts like machine, hence every object acts like wonderful erroneous magic. 26. By magical art (that is, Gandharva vidyá) we see even impossible objects such as two moons, Kavandhas, mantras, drugs, and pishacha. All these are the works of wonderful erroneous magic, which are in fact nothing. 27. We see impossibility as real as we see possibility, hence impossibility becomes real by our erroneous ideas only. 28. The erroneous dream though it appears as real is in fact unreal, as that which is not real does not exist, which is real does exist (unity is real, duality is unreal, hence existence and non-existence are one and the same). 29. So this dreaming creation is looked by all worldly being here as real, as dreamer takes his dream a reality. 30. By passing from one error to another error, from one dream to another, one firm faithful being comes out. 31. As a stray deer falls into the pit repeatedly for green grass, so ignorant man repeatedly falls into the pit of this world, owing to his ignorance. CHAPTER LXII. IN THE NARRATION OF JIVATA AN EXAMPLE OF DOMESTIC AND MENDICANT LIFE Argument:--Narration of the mendicant Jiváta, in illustration of the transmigration of the soul in various births, according to the variety of its insatiable Desire. Vasishtha resumed:--Hear me relate to you, Ráma, the story of a certain mendicant, who fostered some desire in his mind, and wandered through many migrations of his soul. 2. There lived a great mendicant at one time, who devoted his life to holy devotion, and passed his days in the observance of the rules of his mendicancy. (The state of mendicancy is the third stage of life of a Brahman, which is devoted to devotion, and supported by begging of the simple subsistence of life. This story applies to all men, who are in some way or other devoted to some profession for acquiring the necessaries of life and the more so, as all men have some ultimate object of desire, which is an obstruction to their _Nirvána_ or final extinction in the Deity. For the lord says in the Gospel, He that loveth anything more than me, is not worthy of me). 3. In the intensity of his _Samádhi_ devotion, his mind was purged of all its desires; and it became assimilated to the object of its meditation, as the sea water, is changed to the form of waves. (_Samádhi_ is defined by Patanjali, as the forgetting of one's self in the object of his meditation). 4. Once as he was sitting on his seat after termination of his meditation, and was intent upon discharging some sacred functions of his order, there chanced to pass a thought over his clear mind (like the shadow of cloud over the midday sky). 5. He looked into the reflexion of the thought, that rose of itself in his mind; that he should reflect for his pleasure, upon the various conditions of common people, and the different modes of their life. (the proper study of man is man, and the manner of each rightly). 6. All this thought his mind passed from the reflexion of himself and his God, to that of another person; and he lost the calm composure of his mind, as when the quiet sea is disturbed by whirlpool or whirl wind. (This desire of the sage disturbed his breast, like the doubt of Parnell's Hermit). 7. Then he thought in himself to become an ideal man of his own accord, and became in an instant the imagined person Jivátá by name. (Imagination shapes one to what he imagines himself to be). 8. Jivátá, the ideal man, now roved about like a dreaming person, through the walks of the imaginary city, which he had raised to himself, as a sleeping man, builds his aerial abodes in dream. (So every man thinks himself as some one, and moves about in his air built city). 9. He drank his fill at pleasure, as a giddy bee sips the honey from lotus cups; he became plump and hearty with his sports, and enjoyed sound sleep from his want of care. 10. He saw himself in the form of a Brahman in his dream, who was pleased with his studies and the discharge of his religious duties; and as he reflected himself as such he was transformed to the same state, as a man is transplanted from one place to another at a thought. (He makes the man, and places him in every state and place). 11. The good Brahman who was observant of his daily ritual, fell asleep one day into a deep trance, and dreamt himself doing the duties of the day, as the seed hid in shell, performs inwardly its act of vegetation. 12. The same Brahman saw himself changed to a chieftain in his dream, and the same chief ate and drank and slept as any other man in general. 13. The chief again thought himself as a king in his dream, who ruled over the earth extending to the horizon; and was beset by all kinds of enjoyments, as a creeper is studded with flowers. 14. Once as this prince felt himself at ease, he fell into a sound sleep free from all cares, and saw the future consequences of his actions, as the effect is attached to the cause, or the flowers are the forth-comings of the tree. 15. He saw his soul assuming the form of a heavenly maid, as the pith of a plant puts forth itself in its flowers and fruits, (what is at the bottom, comes out on the top; and what is the root, sprouts forth in the tree). 16. As this heavenly maid was lulled to sleep by her weariness and fatigue, she beheld herself turn into a deer, as the calm ocean finds itself disturbed into eddies and waves (by its inner caves and outward winds). 17. As this timorous fawn with her fickle eyes, fell into a sound sleep at one time; she beheld herself transformed to a creeping plant (which she likes to browse upon so fondly in her pasture). 18. The crooked beasts of the field and the creeping plants of forest, have also their sleep and dream of their own nature; the dreams being caused by what they saw and heard and felt in their waking states. 19. This creeper came to be beautified in times, with its beautiful fruits, flowers and leaves, and formed a bower for the seat of the floral goddess of the woods. 20. It hid in its heart the wishes that grew in it, in the same manner as the seed conceals in its embryo the germ of the would be tree; and at last saw itself in its inward consciousness, to be full of frailty and failings. 21. It had remained long in its sleep and rest, but being disgusted with its drowsy dullness, it thought of being the fleeting bee its constant guest, and found itself to be immediately changed to a fluttering bee (which it had fed with its farinaceous food). 22. The bee roved at pleasure over the tender and blossoming creepers in the forest, and let on the petals of blooming lotuses, as a fond lover courts his mistresses. 23. It roved about the blossoms, blooming as brightening pearls in the air; and drank the nectarious Juice from the flower cups, as a lover sips the nectar from the rubied lips of the beloved. 24. He became enamoured of the lotus of the lake, and sat silent upon its thorny stalk on the water; for such is the fondness of fools, even for what is painful to them. 25. The lake was often infested by elephants, who tore and trampled over the beds of lotus bushes; because it is a pleasure to the malignant base, to lay waste the fair works of God. (The black big and bulky elephants, are said to be invidious of the fair and pretty lotuses; hence the elephant is used as symbolical of the devil, the destroyer of all good). 26. The fond bee meets the fate of its fondling lotus, and is crushed under the tusk of the elephant, as the rice is ground under the teeth. (Such is the fate of overfondness for the fair). 27. The little bee seeing the big body and might of the mighty elephant, took a fancy of being as such; and by his imagining himself as so, he was instantly converted to one of the like kind (not in its person but in the mind). (Thus is a lesson, that no one is content with himself, but wishes to be the envied or desired being). 28. At last the elephant fell down into a hollow pit, which was as deep and dry as the dried bed of a gulf; as a man falls into the profound and inane ocean of this world, which is overcast by an impervious darkness around. (The troublesome world is always compared with a turbulent and darksome ocean). 29. The elephant was a favourite of the prince for his defeating the forces of his adversaries; and he routed about at random with his giddy might, as the lawless Daitya robbers wander about at night. 30. He fell afterwards under the sword of the enemy, and pierced all over his body by their deadly darts; as the haughty egoism of the living body, drops down in the soul under the wound of right reason. 31. The dying elephant having been accustomed to see swarms of bees, fluttering over the proboscis of elephants, and sipping the ichor exuding from them, had long cherished the desire of becoming a bee, which he now came to be in reality. 32. The bee rambled at large amidst the flowery creepers of the forest, and resorted again to the bed of lotuses in the lake; because it is hard for fools to get rid of their fond desire, though it is attended with danger and peril. 33. At last the sportive bee was trampled down and crushed under the feet of an elephant, and become a goose, by its long association with one in the lake. 34. The goose passed through many lives, till it became gander at last, and sported with the geese in the lake. 35. Here it came to bear, the name of the gander that served as the vehicle of Brahmá, and thenceforth fostered the idea of his being so, as the yolk of an egg fosters a feathered fowl in it. 36. As it was fostering this strong desire in itself, it grew old and decayed by disease, as a piece of wood is eaten up by inbred worms; then as he died with his consciousness of being the bird of Brahmá, he was born as the great stork of that God in his next birth. 37. The stork lived there in the company of the wise, he became enlightened from the views of worldly beings; he continued for ages in his disembodied liberation, and cared for nothing in future. (The soul that rests in the spirit of God, has nothing better to desire). CHAPTER LXIII. DREAM OF JÍVÁTA. Arguments:--All living souls are occupied with the thought of their present state, forgetful of the past, and altogether heedless of the future. Vasishtha continued:--This bird that sported beside the stalk of the lotus seat of Brahmá, once went to the city of Rudra with his god on his back, and there beheld the God Rudra face to face. (The inferior Gods waited upon the superior deities). 2. Seeing the God Rudra he thought himself to be so, and the figure of the God was immediately imprest upon his mind, like the reflexion of an outward object in the mirror. 3. Being full of Rudra in himself, he quitted his body of the bird, as the fragrance of a flower forsakes the calyx, as it mixes with the breeze and flies in the open air. 4. He passed his time happily at that place, in the company with the attendants and different classes of the dependant divinities of Rudra. 5. This Rudra being then full of the best knowledge of divinity and spirituality; looked back in his understanding into the passed accounts of his prior lives, that were almost incalculable. 6. Being then gifted with clear sightedness and clairvoyance, he was astonished at the view of naked truths, that appeared to him as sights in a dream, which he recounted to him as follows. 7. O! how wonderful is this over spreading illusion, which is stretched all about us, and fascinates the world by its magic _wand_; it exhibits the palpable untruth as positive truth, as the dreary desert presents the appearance of limpid waters, in the sun beams spreading over its sterile sands. 8. I well remember my primary state of the pure intellect, and its conversion to the state of the mind; and how it was changed from its supremacy and omniscience, to the bondage of the limited body. 9. It was by its own desire that the living soul assumed to itself a material body, formed and fashioned agreeably to its fancy, like a picture drawn in a painting; and became a mendicant in my person in one of its prior births, when it was unattached to the objects exposed to view all around. 10. The same mendicant sat in his devotion, by controlling the actions of the members of his body, and began to reflect on outward objects, with great pleasure in his mind. 11. He buried all his former thoughts in oblivion, and thought only of the object that he was employed to reflect upon; and this thought so engrossed and worked upon his mind, that it prevented the rise of any other thought in it. 12. The phenomenon which appears in the mind, offers itself solely to the view also (by supplanting the traces of the past); as the brownness of fading autumn, supercedes the vernal verdure of leaves and plants, so the man coming to his maturity, forgets the helpless state of his boyhood, and is thoughtless of his approaching decay and decline. 13. Thus the mendicant became the Brahman Jivátá by his fallible and fickle desire, which laid him to wander from one body to another, as little ants enter into the holes of houses and things. 14. Being fond of Brahmahood and reverential to Bráhmans in his mind, he became the wished for person in his own body; because the reality and unreality have the power of mutually displacing one another, according to the greater influence of either. (The weaker yields and makes room to the stronger, like the survival of the fittest). 15. The Bráhman next obtained the chieftainship, from his strong predilection for the same; just as the tree becomes fruitful by its continuous suction of the moisture of earth. (The common mother of all). 16. Being desirous of dispensing justice, and discharging all legal affairs, the general wished for royalty, and had his wishes fulfilled by this becoming a prince; but as the prince was over fond of his courtesans, he was transformed to a heavenly nymph that he prized above all in his heart. 17. But as the celestial dame prized the tremulous eye sight of the timorous deer, above her heavenly form and station; she was soon metamorphosed to an antelope in the woods, and destined to graze as a miserable beast for her foolish choice. 18. The fawn that was very fond of browzing the tender blades and leaves, became at last the very creeping plant, that had crept into the crevice of her lickerish mind. 19. The creeper being long accustomed to dote on the bee, that used to be in its company; found in its consciousness to be that insect, after the destruction of its vegetable form. 20. Though well aware of its being crushed under the elephant, together with the lotus flower in which it dwelt, yet it was foolish to take the form of the bee, for its pleasure of roving about the world. (So the living soul enters into various births and bodies only to perish with them). 21. Being thus led into a hundred different forms, said he, I am at last become the self-same Rudra; and it is because of the capriciousness of my erratic mind in this changeful world. 22. Thus have I wandered through the variegated paths of life, in this wilderness of the world; and I have roamed in many aerial regions, as if I trod on solid and substantial ground. 23. In some one of my several births under the name of _Jiváta_, and in another I became a great and respectable Bráhman, I became quite another person again, and then found myself as a ruler and lord of the earth. (So every man thinks and acts himself, now as one person and in the stage of his life. Shakespeare). 24. I had been a drake in the lotus-bush; and an elephant in the vales of Vindhya; I then became a stag in the form of my body, and fleetness of my limbs (and in the formation of mind also). 25. After I had deviated at first from my state of godliness, I was still settled in the state of a devotee with devotedness to divine knowledge; and practicing the rites befitting my position (such as listening to holy lectures, meditating on the mysteries of nature and so forth). 26. In this state I passed very many years and ages, and many a day and night and season and century, glided on imperceptibly in their courses over me. (It is said that the sedate and meditative are generally long living men, as we learn in the accounts of the ancient patriarchs, and in those of the _yogis_ and _lamas_ in our own times). 27. But I deviated again and again from my wonted course, and was as often subjected to new births and forms; until at last I was changed to Brahmá's vehicles of the _hansa_--or _anser_, and this was by virtue of my former good conduct and company. 28. The firm or wonted habit of a living being, must come out unobstructed by any hindrance whatsoever; and though it may be retarded in many intermediate births for even a millennium; yet it must come and lay hold on the person some time or other. (Habit is second nature, and is inbred in every being; and what is bred in the bone, must run in the blood). 29. It is by accident only, that one has the blessing of some good company in his life; and then his inborn want may be restrained for a time, but it is sure to break out with violence in the end, in utter defiance of every check and rule. 30. But he who betakes himself to good society only, and strives always for his edification in what is good and great, is able to destroy the evil propensities which are inbred in him; because the desire to be good, is what actually makes one so. (Discipline conquers nature). 31. Whatever a man is accustomed to do or think upon constantly, in this life or in the next state of his being; the same appears as a reality to him in his waking state of day dream, as unreality appears as real in the sleeping or night dream of a man. (It is the imagination that figures unrealities in divers forms both in the day as also in the night dreams of men). 32. Now the thoughts that employ our minds, appoint our bodies also to do their wished for works; and as these works are attended with some temporary good as well as evil also; it is better therefore to restrain and repress the rise of those tumultuous thoughts, than cherish them for our pleasure or pain. 33. It is only the thought in our minds, that makes us to take our bodies for ourselves or souls; and that stretches wide this world of unrealities, as the incased seed sprouts forth and spreads itself into a bush. (The thought bears the world in it, as the will brings it to view). 34. The world is but the thought in sight or a visible form of their visible thought, and nothing more in reality besides this phantasm of it, and an illusion of our sight. 35. The illusive appearance of the world, presents itself to our sight, like the variegated hues of the sky, it is therefore by our ignoring of it, that we may be enabled to wipe off those tinges from our minds. 36. It is an unreal appearance, displayed by the supreme Essence (of God or His intelligence); as a real existence at his pleasure only, and can not therefore do any harm to any body. 37. I rise now and then to look into all these varieties in nature, for the sake of my pleasure and curiosity; but I have the true light of reason in me, whereby I discern the one unity quite apart from all varieties. 38. After all these recapitulations, the incarnate Rudra returned to his former state, and reflected on this condition of the mendicant, whose body was now lying as a dead corpse on the barren ground. 39. He awakened the mendicant and raised his prostrate body, by infusing his intelligence into it; when the resuscitated _Bhikshu_ came to understand, that all his wanderings were but hallucinations of his mind. 40. The mendicant finding himself the same with Rudra standing in his presence, as also with the bygone ones that he recollected in his remembrance; was astonished to think how he could be one and so many, though it is no wonder to the intelligent, who well know that one man acts many parts in life. 41. Afterwards both Rudra and the mendicant got up from their seats, and proceeded to the abode of the _Jivátá_, situated in corner of the intellectual sphere (_i.e._ the mundane world which lies in the divine intellect). 42. They then passed over many Continents, Islands, provinces and districts, until they arrived at the abode of _Jívata_, where they found him lying down with a sword in hand. 43. They saw _Jivátá_ lying asleep and insensible as a dead body, when _Rudra_ laid aside his bright celestial form, in order to enter into the earthly abode of the deceased. (The Gods are said to assume human shapes in order to mix with mankind). 44. They brought him back to life and intelligence, by imparting to him portion of their spirit and intellect; and thus was this one soul exhibited in the triple forms of _Rudra_, _Jivátá_ and the mendicant. 45. They with all their intelligence, remained ignorant of one another, and they marvelled to look on each other in mute astonishment, as if they were the figures in painting. 46. Then the three went together in their aerial course, to the air built abode of the _Brahman_; who had erected his baseless fabric in empty air, and which resounded with empty sounds all around. (The open air being the receptacle of sounds, the aerial abodes of celestials are incessantly infested by the sounds and cries of peoples rising upwards from the nether world). 47. They passed through many aerial regions, and barren and populous tracts of air; until they found out at last the heavenly residence of the Brahman. 48. They saw him sleeping in his house; beset by the members of his family about him; while his Brahmaní folded her arms about his neck, as if unwilling to part with her deceased husband. (The Brahman in heaven, was seen in the state of his parting life). 49. They awakened his drowsy intelligence, by means of their own intelligence, as a waking man raises a sleeping soul, by means of his own sensibility. 50. Thence they went on in their pleasant journey to the realms of the chief and the prince mentioned before; and these were situated in the bright regions of their intellectual sphere, and illumined by their effulgence of the intellect. (It means to say, that all these journeys, places and persons, were but reveries of the mind, and creations of fancy). 51. Having arrived at that region and that very spot, they observed the haughty chief lying on his lotus like bed. 52. He lay with his gold coloured body, in company with the partner of his bed of golden hue; as the honey sucking bee lies in the lotus cell, enfolded in the embrace of his mate. 53. He was beset by his mistresses, hanging about him, like the tender stalks and tufts of flowers pendent upon a tree; and was encircled by a belt of lighted lamps, as when a golden plate is studded about by brilliant gems. 54. They awakened him shortly by infusing their own spirit and intelligence in his body and mind, and then they sat together marvelling at each other, as the self-same man in so many forms (or the self-same person in so many bodies). 55. They next repaired to the palace of the prince, and after awakening him with their intelligence, they all roamed about the different parts of the world. 56. They came at last to the _hansa_ of Brahmá, and being all transformed to that form in their minds (_i.e._ having come to know the _ahamsa_ I am he or their self-identity); They all became the one Rudra Personality in a hundred persons. 57. Thus the one intellect is represented in different forms and shapes, according to the various inclinations of their minds, like so many figures in a painting. Such is the unity of the deity represented as different personalities, according to the various tendencies of individual minds. (There is the same intellect and soul in all living beings, that differ from one another in their minds only). 58. There a hundred Rudras, who are the forms of the uncovered intellect (_i.e._ unclouded by mists of error); and they are acquainted with the truths of all things in the world, and the secrets of all hearts (_antaryámin_). 59. There are a hundred and some hundreds of Rudras, who are known as very great beings in the world; among whom there are eleven only (Ekádasa Rudras), that are situated in so many worlds (Ekádasa Bhubanas). (The Vedas have thousands and thousands of Rudras in their hymns as to them, as, [Sanskrit: sahashrena sahashrasah ye rudrá adhibhúmyá]). 60. All living beings that are not awakened to reason, are ignorant of the identity of one another; and view them in different and not in the same light; they are not farsighted to see any other world. That which is the most proximate to them. 61. Wise men see the minds of others and all things to rise in their minds, like the wave rising in the sea; but unenlightened minds remain dormant in themselves, like the inert stones and blocks. (Another explanation of it is, that all wise men are of the same mind as Birbal said to Akbar:--Sao Siyane ekmatá). 62. As the waves mix with themselves, by the fluidity of their waters; so the minds of wise unite with one another, by the solubility of their understandings, like elastic fluids and liquids. (So says Mrityunjaya:--the oily or serous understanding ([Sanskrit: tailavat vunvih]) readily penetrates into the minds of others). 63. Now in all these multitudes of living beings, that are presented to our sight in this world; We find the one invariable element of the intellect to be diffused in all of them, and making unreal appear as real ones to view. 64. This real but invisible entity of the Divine intellect remains for ever, after all the unreal but visible appearances disappear into nothing; as there remains an empty space or hollow vacuity, after the removal of a thing from its place, and the excavation of the ground by digging it. (This empty vacuum with the _chit_ or Intellect in it, is the universal God of the vacuist Vasishtha). 65. As you can well conceive the idea of existence, of the quintuple elemental principles in nature; so you can comprehend also the notion of the Omnipresence of the Divine intellect, which is the substratum of the elemental principles. 66. As you see various statues and images, carved in stone and woods, and set in the hollows of rocks and trees; so should you see all these figures in the hollow space of the universe, to be situated in the self-same intellect of the Omnipresent Deity. 67. The knowledge of the known and the visible world, in the pure intellect of the unknown and invisible deity, resembles the view of the variegated skies, with their uncaused and insensible figures, in the causeless substratum of ever lasting and all pervading vacuity. 68. The knowledge of the phenomenal is the bondage of the soul, and the ignoring of this conduces to its liberation; do therefore as you like, either towards this or that (_i.e._ for your liberation and bondage). 69. The cognition and nescience of the world, are the causes of the bondage and liberation of the soul, and these again are productive of the transmigration and final emancipation of the animal spirit. It is by your indifference to them that you can avoid them both, do therefore as you may best choose for yourself. (Here are three things offered to view, namely, the desire of heaven and liberation, and the absence of all desires. [Sanskrit: svargakáma mokshakámau nishkámashchatra yah]). 70. What is lost at its disappearance (as our friends and properties), is neither worth seeking or searching after, nor sorrowing for when it is lost and gone from us. That which is gained of itself in our calm and quiet without any anxiety or assiduity on our part, is truly reckoned to be our best gain. (so says the Moha-Mudgura:--Be content with what offers of itself to thee. [Sanskrit: yatvabhase nijakarnmípáttam| bittam tena vinodaya chittam|]). 71. That which is no more than our knowledge of it (as the object of our senses and the objective world), is no right knowledge but mere fallacy; the true knowledge is that of the subjective consciousness, which is always to be attended to. 72. As the wave is the agitation of the water, so is this creation but an oscillation of the divine intellect; and this is the only difference between them, that the one is the production of the elements in nature, and the other is that of the divine will. 73. Again the undulation of waves occurs, in conjunction with the existing elements at certain spots and times; but the production of the world is wholly without the junction of the elemental bodies, which were not in existence at its creation. (It means to say, that the world is only an ideal formation of the divine mind). 74. The shining worlds shine with the light of the divine intellect, in which they are situated as the thoughts in its consciousness. It transcends the power of speech to define what it is, and yet it is expressed in the veda in the words that, "It is the supreme soul and perfect felicity" (Siva Parátmá). 75. Thus the world is the form of its consciousness in the divine intellect, and they are not different from one another, as words are never separable from their senses. It is said that the world is the undulation of the Divine spirit, and none but the ignorant inveigh against, by saying that the wave and water are two different things. (Kálidása in the commencement of Raghuvansa, uses the same simile of words and their meanings, to denote the intimate union of Párvatí and Siva, which is done to express the inseparability of the world with its maker; corresponding with the well known line of Pope: "whose body nature is, and God the soul"). CHAPTER LXIV. ON THE ATTAINMENT OF ATTENDANTSHIP ON THE GOD RUDRA. Argument:--The remainder of the former story; and the manner of becoming the attendant Rudras on Siva. Ráma said:--Tell me sir, what became of the many forms, which the mendicant saw in his dream; and whether the several forms of _Jívata_, the Brahman, the gander and others return to themselves, or remained as Rudras for ever more. 2. Vasishtha replied:--They all remained with Rudra, as parts and compositions of himself; and being enlightened by him, they wandered all about the world, and rested contented with themselves. 3. They all beheld with Rudra, the magic scenes which were displayed before them; till at last they were dismissed from his company, to return to their own states and places. 4. Rudra said:--Go you now to your own places, and there enjoy your fill with your family; and return to me after some time, having completed the course of your enjoyments and sufferings in the world. 5. You will then become as parts of myself, and remain as my attendants to grace my residence; till at last we return to the supreme at the end of time, and be absorbed in last _Omega_ of all. 6. Vasishtha said:--So saying, the Lord Rudra vanished from their sight, and mixed in the midst of the Rudras, who viewed all the worlds in their enlightened intellects. (These are celestial and angelic beings). 7. Then did _Jívata_ and others return to their respective residences, where they have to share their shares of domestic felicity in the company of their families, during their allotted times. 8. Having then wasted and shuffled off their mortal coil, at the end of their limited periods, they will be promoted to the rank of Rudras in heaven, and will appear as luminous stars in the firmament. 9. Ráma rejoined:--All those forms of _Jiváta_ and others, being but creations of the empty imagination of the mendicant; I cannot understand, how they could be beings, as there is no substantiality in imaginary things. 10. Vasishtha replied:--The truth of the imagination lies partly in our consciousness, and partly in our representation of the image; though the imagery or giving a false shape to anything, is as untrue as any nihility in nature. But what we are conscious of must be true, because our consciousness comprehends everything in it. 11. Thus what is seen in the dream, and represented to us by imagination, are all impressed in our consciousness at all times and for ever. (Therefore neither is our consciousness nor the images we are conscious of are untrue, though the imagery and the work of imagination are utterly false). 12. As a man when going or carried from one country to another, and there again to some other place, has no knowledge of the distance of his journey, unless he is conscious of its length and duration in space and time; so we are ignorant of the duration of our dream, and our passing from one dream to another, without our consciousness of it in our sleeping state. 13. Therefore it is our consciousness that contains all things, that are represented to it by the intellect; and it is from our intellection that we have the knowledge of everything, because the intellect is full of knowledge and pervades everywhere. 14. Imagination, desire and dream, are the one and same thing, the one producing the other and all lodged in the cell of the intellect. Their objects are obtained by our intense application to them. Desire produces imagination which is the cause of dream; they are the phenomena of mind, and their objects are the results of deep meditation. 15. Nothing is to be had without its practice and meditation of it, and men of enlightened minds gain the objects by their _Yoga_ or meditation of them alone. (These are the _Yoga_ siddhas or adepts in _Yoga_ as _Siva_ &c). 16. These adepts view the objects of their pursuit in all places, such as the _god Siva_ and others of the Siddha Yogis, such was my aim and attempt also, but it was not attended with success. 17. I was unsuccessful in want of my fixed resolvedness, but failed in both for my attending to both sides. It is only the firm resolution of one in one point, that gives him success in any undertaking. 18. As one going in southerly direction, cannot arrive at his house in the north, so it is the case with the pursuers after their aims; which they well know to be unattainable without their firm determination in it. 19. Whoever is resolved to gain his desired objects, must fix his view on the object before him; the mind being fixed on the object in view, brings the desire into effect. (So says Hafiz: If thou want the presence of the object, never be absent from it). 20. So the mendicant having the demi God Rudra, for the sole object in his view, became assimilated to the very form of his wish; because whoso is intent on one object, must remove all duality from before him. (So says the mystic Sadi: I drove the duality from my door, in order to have the unity alone before my view). 21. The other imaginary forms of the mendicant, were all different persons in their different spheres; and had obtained their several forms, according to their respective desires from one state to another (as said before). 22. They did not know or look on one another, but had all their thoughts and sights fixed on Rudra alone; because those that are awakened to their spiritual knowledge, have their sight fixed on their final liberation, while the unenlightened mortals are Subjected to repeated births, by the repetition of their wishes (to be born in some form or other). 23. It was accordingly to the will of Rudra, that he took this one form and many others upon him, such as he wills to become a Vidhyadhara in one place and a pandit in another. 24. This instance of Rudra serves for an example, of the efficacy of intense thought and practice of all men; who may become one or another or many more, as also learned or ignorant, agreeably to their thought and conduct. (One to be many, means the versatility of parts, to act as many). 25. So one has his manhood and Godhead also (_i.e._ acts as a man and a God likewise), by his manly and Godlike actions at different times and places; and to be both at the one and same time, requires much greater ability and energy both of the mind and body (as it is seen in the persons of deified heroes). 26. The living soul being one with the Divine, has all the powers of the same implanted in it; the infinite being ingrafted in the finite, It is of the same nature by innate nature. 27. The living soul has its expansion and contraction in its life and death, as the Divine soul has its evolution and involution; in the acts of creation and dissolution; but the Divine soul destroys no soul, because it is the soul of souls and the aggregate of all souls; therefore any one that would be godly, must refrain from slaughter. 28. So the yogis and yoginís continue in the discharge of their sacred rites, as enjoined by law and usage, and either remain in this or rove about in other worlds at large at the free will and liberty. 29. A yogi is seen in several forms at once, both in this world and in the next, according to his desert and the merit of his actions; as the great yogi and warrior Karta Vírya Arjuna, became the terror of the world as if he were ubiquitous, while he remained quite at home. (_i.e._ though confined in one place, yet he seemed to be present every where). 30. So also doth the god Vishnu appear in human forms on earth, while he sleeps at ease in the milky ocean; and the yoginis of heaven hover over animal sacrifices on earth, while they reside in their groups in the etherial sphere. 31. Indra also appears on earth, to receive the oblations of men, when he is sitting in his heavenly seat on high, and Náráyana takes the forms of a thousand Rámas upon him, in his conflict with the myriads of Rakhasa legions. 32. So did one Krishna become a hundred, to receive the obeisance of his reverential princes; and he appears as a thousand in the company of many thousand monarchs in the Kuru assembly. 33. So the god became incarnate in many forms, with parts and particles of his own spirit for the preservation of the world; and the one lord became many in the company of his mistresses in a moment. (This was the company of milk maids in the rásalílá sport of Krishna). 34. In this manner did the forms of _Jívata_ and others, which were the creatures of the mendicant's imagination, retire at the behest of Rudra, to the particular abodes of their own and respective desires. 35. There they enjoyed all their delights for a long time, until they entered the abode of Rudra; where they became the attendants of the demigod, and remained in his train for a great length of time. 36. They remained in the company of Rudra, dwelling in the groves of the evergreen and ever blossoming Kalpa creepers of paradise, blooming with clusters of their gemming florets; and roving at pleasure to different worlds, and to the celestial city of Siva on the _Kailása_ mountain, and sporting in the company of heavenly nymphs, and bearing the crowns of immortality on their heads. (This is the description of the heaven of Hindus). CHAPTER LXV. RÁMA'S WONDER AT THE ERROR OF MEN. Argument.--Application of the mendicant's case to all men, who are equally mistaken in their choice. Vasishtha Continued:--As the mendicant saw this transient scene of error in his mind; so it is the case with all living beings, to look on their past lives and actions apart from themselves, and in the persons of other men. 2. The past lives, actions and demise of all reflective souls, are as fast imprinted in them, as any thought is preserved in the retentive mind and vacuous intellect. 3. Distant and separate things are mingled together, in the present sphere of one's soul; and all persons appear as distinct figures in the dream. 4. And the human soul, though it is a form of the divine, yet being enclosed in its frail and mortal body, is doomed to misery until its final liberation from birth and body. Thus I have related to you the fate of all living souls, in the state and tale of the mendicant _Bhikshu_. 5. Now know, O Ráma! that the souls of all of us like that of the mendicant, are vibrated and moved by the impulse of the supreme spirit; and are yet fallible in their nature, and falling from error to error every moment (as we find in our dreams). 6. As a stone falling from a rock, falls lower and lower to the nether ground; so the living soul once fallen from its height of supreme spirit, descends lower and lower to the lowest pit. 7. Now it sees one dream, and then passes from it to another; and thus rolling for ever in its dreaming sleep, it never finds any substantiality whatsoever. 8. The soul thus obscured under the illusion of errors, happens some times to come to the light of truth, either by the guidance of some good instructor, or by the light of its own intuition; and then it is released from the wrong notion of its personality in the body, and comes to the true knowledge of itself. 9. Ráma said:--O! the impervious gloom of error that ever spreads on the human soul, causes it to rely in the mist of its errors, as a sleeping man enjoys the scenery of his dreams. 10. It is shrouded by the thick darkness of the night of erroneous knowledge, and falls into the pit of illusion which over spreads the world (máyá or error is the fruit of the forbidden tree whose mortal taste brought death into the world, while knowledge is the fruit of the tree of immortality, which liberates the soul from the bonds of birth and death). 11. O the egregious error of taking a thing for our own, which in reality belongs to no body but the lord and master of all. 12. It behoves you, sir, to explain to me, whence this error takes its rise, and how the mendicant with his share of good and right understanding, could fall into the error (of wishing himself to become another, that was as frail and mortal as himself). Tell me also that knowest all, whether he is still living or not. 13. Vasishtha replied:--I will explore into the regions of the three worlds in my _samádhi_ meditation this night, and tell you tomorrow morning, whether the mendicant is living or not, and where he may be at present. 14. Válmíki said:--As the sage was saying in this manner, the royal garrison tolled the trumpet of the departing day with beat of drum; which filled the sky with the loud roar of diluvian clouds. 15. The princes and the citizens assembled in the court, threw handfuls of flowers at his feet, as the trees drop down their flowers in the ground, wafted by the odoriferous breeze. 16. They honoured the great sages also, and rose from their respective seats; and the assembly broke afterwards, with mutual salutations to one another. 17. Then all the residents of the earth and air, went to their respective residences with the setting sun; and discharged their duties of the departing day, in obedience to the ordinance of the sástras. 18. They all performed their services as prescribed in their liturgies, in which they placed their strong faith and veneration. (This shows the division of caste and creed even in the heroic age of Ráma; which being more marked in later ages, prevented the people from participating in a common cause). 19. All the mortals and celestials, that formed the audience of "Vasishtha", began now to reflect on the lecture of the sage, and the night passed as short as a moment with some, and as long as an age with others. (Gloss. They that took the subject for study, found time too short for their deep meditation of it, while those that were light minded and eager to hear more, felt time to roll on heavily on them. A very good lesson for lightening time by the practice of patient enquiry, and avoiding the troublesomeness of impatience). 20. As the morning rose with the returning duties of men, and employed all beings of heaven and earth to discharge their matin in services; the court reopened for the reception of the audience, who assembled there with mutual greetings and salutations to their superiors. CHAPTER LXVI. THE WANDERINGS OF THE MENDICANT. Arguments:--The wanderings of men agreeably to their pursuits, described in the character of the mendicant. Válmíki related:--After the sages Vasishtha and Viswámitra had taken their seats in the court hall, there met the groups of celestials and siddhas of air, and the monarch of earth and chiefs of men. 2. Then came Ráma and Lakshmana with their companions in the court; which shone as a clear lake of lotus-beds unshaken by the gentle breeze, and brightened by the moonbeams glistening amidst it. 3. The sire of sages opened his mouth unasked by any body, and not waiting for the request of any one; because wise men are always kind hearted, and ready to communicate their knowledge to others of their own accord. (Here the sage spoke impromptu, to keep his promise of answering to Ráma's query in the preceding chapter, on a future occasion. Gloss). 4. Vasishtha said:--O. Ráma! that art the moon in the sphere of Raghu's family, I have yesternight came to see the mendicant, with the all seeing eye of my intellectual vision after a long time. 5. I revolved over in my mind, and wandered wide and afar to find out where that man was, and so I traversed through all the continents and islands, and passed over all the hills and mountains on earth. 6. I had my head running upon the search, but could not meet anywhere a mendicant of that description; because it is impossible to find in the outer world, the fictions of our air built castle. 7. I then ran in my mind at the last watch of the night, and passed over the regions on the north, as the fleet winds fly over the waves of the ocean. 8. There I saw the extensive and populous country of _Jina_ (China) lying beyond the utmost boundaries of Valmika (Bhalika or Bulkh); where there is a beautiful city, called as Vihara by the inhabitants. 9. There lives a mendicant, named Dírgha drik or foresighted whose head was silvered over with age, and who continues in his close meditation confined in his homely and lovely cottage. 10. He is used to sit there in his meditative mood, for three weeks together at a time, and keep the door of his cell quite fast, for fear of being disturbed in his silent devotion, by the intrusion of outsiders. 11. His dependants are thus kept out of doors for the time, that he is absorbed in meditation. 12. He thus passed his three weeks of deep meditation in seclusion, and it is now a thousand years, that he has been sitting in this manner, in communion with his own mind only. 13. It was in olden times, that there had been a mendicant of his kind, as I have already related unto you; this is the living instance of that sort, and we know not where and when a third or another like this may be found to exist. 14. I was long in quest like a bee in search of flowers, to find such another, in the womb of this lotus like earth, with all possible inquiry on my part. 15. I passed beyond the limit of the present world, and pierced through the mist of future creations, and there I met with what I sought of the resemblance of the present one. 16. As I looked into the world lying in the womb of futurity, and deposited in the intellectual sphere of Brahma; I met with a third one resembling to Brahmá in his conduct. 17. So passing through many worlds one after another, I saw many things in futures, which are not in esse in the present world. 18. There I beheld the sages that are now sitting in this assembly, and many more Brahmans also, that are of the nature of these present, as also different from them. 19. There will be this Nárada with his present course of life, as also differing from the same; so likewise there will be many others also, with their various modes of life. 20. So likewise there will appear this _Vyása_ and this _Suka_; and these Saunaka, Pulaha and Krutu, will reappear in future creations, with their very same natures and characters. (This doctrine of reappearance in a future world, is disbelieved in the sense of the transmigration of souls, but it is taken as strict article of faith by all Christians and Moslems, in the name of regeneration and resurrection which imply the same thing). 21. The same Agastya and Pulastya and the self-same Bhrigu and Angirasa, all of them and all others, will come to re-existence, with their very forms and traits of character. (The dead will rise again in their very bodies &c. Gospel). 22. They will be born and reborn sooner and later, so long as they are under the subjection of this delusion of regeneration and resuscitation; and will retain their similar births and modes of life, like all others to be reborn in this or the future world. (As a Brahman who is twice born on earth, retains his habits as before). 23. So the souls of men revolve repeatedly in the world, like waves rolling for ever in the waters of the sea; some of which retain their very same forms, while others are very nearly so in their reappearance. 24. Some are slightly altered in their figures, and others varying entirely in their forms, never regain their original likeness; so doth this prevailing error of regeneration, delude even the wise to repeated births (from which can never get their liberations). (The desire of revivification or regeneration, is so deeply implanted in all living souls, that no body wants to die but with desire to live again in some future state. "Ye shall not die." Gospel). 25. But what means the long meditation, of twenty days and nights of the mendicant, when a moment's thought of ours, and the results of our bodily actions, are productive of endless births and transformations. 26. Again where is the reality of these forms, which are mere conceptions of the mind; and these ideas and reflexions, growing ripe with their recapitulation, appear as full blown flowers to sight; and resemble the water lily at morn, beset by the busy murmur of humming bees. 27. The gross form is produced from pure thought (_i.e._ the material from the immaterial mind); as a pile of flaming fire is kindled by a minute spark or a ray of sun beam. Such is the formation of the whole fabric of the world. 28. All things are manifest as particles of divine reflexion, and each particle exhibiting in it a variety of parts (in its atoms and animalcules); nor are these nor those together are nothing at all, but they all exist in the universal, which is the cause of all cause, and the source of all sources. CHAPTER LXVII. UNITY OF GOD. Argument.--The liberation of the mendicant's soul and destruction of his body, and the application of this instance in the cases of the confinement and liberation of all souls in and from the bondage of their bodies. Dasaratha said:--O great sage, let these attendants of mine, repair immediately to the cells of the mendicant, and having roused him from his hypnotism, bring him hither in my presence. 2. Vasishtha replied:--Great king! the body of that mendicant, is now lying lifeless on the ground; it is now pale and cold and daubed with dirt, and has no jot of its vitality left in it. 3. His life has fled from his body, like odour from the lotus of the lake; he is now liberated from the bond of this life, and is no more subject to the cares of this world. 4. It is now a whole month that his servants have opened the latch of his door, and standing at a distance looking at his emaciated frame. 5. They will afterwards take out the body and immerge it in water, and then having anointed it, they will place it for their adoration, as they do a deified idol. (The bodies of saints are sanctified by their votaries among all nations, and their tombs are visited with religious veneration). 6. The mendicant being in this manner freed from his body, cannot be brought back to his senses, which have entirely quitted their functions in his mortal frame. 7. It is hard to evade the enchanting delusion of the world, so long as one labours under the darkness of his ignorance; but it is easily avoided by one's knowledge of truth at all times. 8. The fabrication of the world is untrue, as the making of ornaments from gold; it is the error of taking the form for the substance, that appears as the cause of creation. 9. This delusion of the world, appears to be so situated in the supreme soul, as the rows of waves are seen to roll upon the surface of the calm waters of the sea. So it is said in the very words of the Vedas, that the moving worlds are as the fluctuation of the Divine Soul. 10. The intelligent soul, taking the form of the living or human soul, sees the phenomenal world, as one sees one dream after another, but all these vanish away upon his waking to sense and right reason. 11. As every man of understanding sees the original in its image, so the man of reason views the archetype of the soul in its representation of the creation; while the ignorant man that sees the world as a thorny bush or confused jungle, can have no idea of the all designing framer of his frame work of the universe. (Right reason points out to spiritual source of the world). 12. The world is represented to the view of every living being, as it was seen in the vision of the dreaming mendicant, in the form of the undulations of the supreme spirit, like the fluctuation of waves on the surface of the sea. 13. As the world appeared to be presented at first in its visionary form, before the view of the universal or collective mind of the creative Brahmá; so does it rise in its shadowy form in the opacous minds of all individual persons. (The world appears in its unspiritual form, to the minds of the great Brahmá and all other living beings). 14. But to the clear mind this world appears as an evanescent dream, as it appeared to Brahmá at first; and the multitudes of worlds that are discovered one after the other, are no more than the successive scenes of passing dreams in the continuous sleep of ignorance. 15. So do all living beings in their various forms, are subject to the error of believing the unreal world as a reality, though they well know it in their minds, to be no better than a continuous dream or delusion. (The varieties of living souls are included under the unintelligible terms of universal and individual:--general and particular &c.). 16. The animal soul, though possessed of intellego (or the property of the intellect); is yet liable to transgress from its original nature (of holiness and purity); and thereby becomes subject to decay, disease and death and all kinds of awe. (It is the _chyuty_ of the fall of man from his primary purity, that brought on him all his miseries on earth). 17. The godly intellect frames the celestial and infernal regions in our dreams, by the slight vibration of the mind at its pleasure; and then takes a delight in rambling over and dwelling in them. 18. It is this divine intellect, which by its own motion, takes the form of living soul upon itself; and wanders from itself to rummage over the false objects of the deceptive senses. 19. The mind also is the supreme soul, and if it is not so it is nothing; the living and embodied is likewise a designation of the same, likening to the shadow of the substance. 20. So the supreme Brahma is said to reside in the universal Brahmá, according to the distinct view of men, with regard to the one Brahma, in whom all these attributes unite, like the water with water and the sky with air. (All these attributive words apply to and unite in the unity of Brahma). 21. Men residing in this mundane form of Brahma, and yet think it otherwise than a reflexion of the deity; just as a child looking at its own shadow in a glass, startles to think it as an apparition standing before it. 22. It is the wavering understanding that causes these differences, which disappear of themselves, after the mind resumes its steadiness in the unity of the Deity, wherein it is lost at last, as the oblation of butter is consumed in the sacred fire. 23. There is no more any vacillation or dogmatism, nor the unity or duality, after the true knowledge of the deity is gained; when all distinctions are dissolved in an indistinct intellect, which is as it is and all in all. 24. When it is known from the sum and substance of all reasoning, that it is the one Intellect, which is the subject of all appellations which are applied to it; there remains no more any difference of religious faith in the world. (That is one and all, is the catholic religion of all). 25. Difference of faith, creates difference in men; but want of distinction in creed, destroys all difference, and brings on the union of all to one common faith in the supreme being. 26. Ráma, you see the variety from your want of understanding, and you will get rid of the same (and recognise their identity), as you come to your right understanding; ask this of any body and you will find the truth of what I say and be fearless at any party feeling and enmity. (Confession of faith in one Divinity, that is acknowledged and adored by all alike, is the root of catholicity, and brings on unity in philosophy of religion). 27. In that state of fearlessness, the Brahmavádí finds no difference in the states of waking, dreaming, sound sleep or the fourth stage of devotion; nor in his earthly bondage or liberation from it, all which are equal to him. (So says the sruti:--The Brahmavádí is ever blest and is afraid of nothing in any state of life, in all of which he sees the presence of his God). 28. Tranquillity is another name of the universe, and God has given his peace to everything in the world; therefore all schisms are the false creations of ignorance, as none of them has ever seen the invisible God. 29. The action of the heart and the motion of the vital air, cannot move the contented mind to action; because the mind which is devoid of its desire, is indifferent about the vibrations of his breath and heart strings. 30. The intellect which is freed from the dubitation of unity and duality, and got rid of its anxious cares and desires; has approached to a state, which is next to that of the deity. 31. But the pure desire which subsists in the intellect, like the stain which sticks to the disk of the moon; is no speck upon it, but the coagulation of the condensed intellect. (As the fluid water is congealed in the forms of snow and ice). 32. Do you, Ráma! ever remain in the state of your collected intellect, because it concentrates (the knowledge of) everything (that is _sat_) in itself, and leaves nothing (that is not _asat_) beyond it. (This is the most faultless undefective form of faith, that I have abstracted from all religions). 33. The moon like disk of the intellect, having the mark of inappetency in it, is a vessel of ambrosia, a draught of which drowns the thoughts of all that is and is not (in esse--et non-esse) into oblivion. (Contentment is the ambrosial draught for oblivion of all cares). 34. Refer thy thoughts of whatever thou hast or wantest, to the province of thy intellect (_i.e._ think of thy intellectual parts and wants only); and taste thy inward delight as much as thou dost like. (Pleasure of intellectual culture, is better than physical enjoyments). 35. Know Ráma, that the words vibration and inaction, desire and inappetency and such others of the theological glossary, serve only to burden and mislead the mind to error; do you therefore keep yourself from thinking on these, and betake yourself to your peace and quiet, whether you attain to your perfection or otherwise. CHAPTER LXVIII. ON THE VIRTUES OF TACITURNITY. Argument:--Four kinds of Reticence, and their respective qualities. Vasishtha said:--Ráma! remain as taciturn as in your silent sleep, and shun at a distance the musings of your mind; get rid of the vagaries of your imagination, and remain firm in the state Brahma. 2. Ráma said:--I know what is meant by the reticence of speech, and the quietness of the organs, and the muteness of a block of wood; but tell me what is sleep like silence, which you well know by practice. 3. Vasishtha replied:--It is said to be of two kinds, by the mute like munis and the reserved sages of old; the practiced by the wood like statues of saints, and the other observed by those that are liberated in their life time (jívan mukta). 4. The wood like devotee is that austere ascetic, who is not meditative in his mind, and is firmly employed in the discharge of the rigorous rites of religion; he practises the painful restraints of his bodily organs, and remains speechless as a wooden statue. 5. The other kind of living liberated Yogi is one, who looks at the world ever as before (with his usual unconcern); who delights in his meditation of the soul, and passes as any ordinary man without any distinctive mark of his religious order or secular rank. 6. The condition of these two orders of saintly and holy men, which is the fixedness of their minds and sedateness of their souls, is what passes under the title of taciturnity and saintliness (_mauna_ and muni) (who hold their tongue and their peace, and walk _sub silentio_ and _incognito_ on earth). 7. Thus the taciturn sages reckon four kinds of latitancy, which they style severally by the names of reservedness in speech, restriction of the organs, woodlike speechlessness and dead like silence as in one's sleep. 8. Oral silence consists in keeping one's mouth and lips close, and the closeness of the senses implies the keeping of the members of the body under strict control; the rigorous muteness means the abandonment of all efforts, and the sleepy silence is as silent as the grave. 9. There is a fifth kind of dead-like silence, which occurs in the austere ascetic in his state of insensibility; in the profound meditation of the dormant _Yogi_, and in the mental abstraction of the living liberated. 10. All the three prior states of reticence, occur in the austere devotee, and the sleepy or dead silence is what betakes the living liberated only. 11. Though speechlessness is called silence, yet it does not constitute pure reticence, in as much as the mute tongue may brood evil thoughts in the mind, which lead to the bondage of men. 12. The austere devotee continues in his reticence, without minding his own egoism, or seeing the visibles or listening to the speech of others; and seeing nothing beside him, he sees all in himself, like living fire covered under ashes. 13. The mind being busy in these three states of silence, and indulging its fancies and reveries at liberty; makes munis of course in outward appearance, but there is no one, who understands the nature of God. 14. There is nothing of that blessed divine knowledge in any of these, which is so very desirable to all mankind; I vouch it freely that they are not knowers of God, be they angry at it or not as they may. (Vasishtha being a theoretic philosopher, finds fault with every kind of practical Yoga or pseudo hypnotism). 15. But this dormant or meditative silent sage, who is liberated from all bonds and cares in his life time, is never to be born in any shape in this world, and it is interesting to know much of them as I will recite to you. 16. He does not require to restrain his respiration, nor needs the triple restraint of his speech; he does not rejoice at his prosperity, nor is he depressed in adversity, but preserves his equanimity and the evenness of his sensibility at all times. (He sticks to what is natural, and does not resort to anything artificial). 17. His mind is under the guidance of his reason, and is neither excited by nor restrained from its fancies, it is neither restless nor dormant, and exists as it is not in existence. (owing to its even mindedness). 18. His attention is neither divided nor pent up, but fixed in the infinite and eternal one, and his mind cogitates unconfined the nature of things. Such a one is said to be the sleeping silent sage. 19. He who knows the world as it is, and is not led to error by its deluding varieties, and whoso scans everything as it is without being led to scepticism, is the man that is styled the sleeping silent sage. 20. He who relies his faith and trust, on the one endless and ever felicitous Siva, as the aggregate of all knowledge, and the displayer of this universe, is the one who is known as the sleeping silent sage. 21. He who sees the _vacuum_ as the _plenum_, and views this all _omnium_ as the null and nullum; and whose mind is even and tranquil, is the man who is called the sleeping silent sage. 22. Again he who views the universe as neither reality nor unreality either, but all an empty vacuum and without a substratum, but full of peace and divine wisdom, is said to be in the best state of his taciturnity. 23. The mind that is unconscious of the effects, of the different states of its prosperity and adversity and of its plenty and wants, is said to rest in its highest state of rest and quiet. 24. That perfect equanimity of the mind and evenness of temper, which is not liable to change or fluctuation; with a clear conscience and unflinching self-consciousness, are the source of an unimpairing reticence. 25. The consciousness that I am nothing, nor is there anything besides; and that the mind and its thoughts, are no other in reality (than fictions of the intellect); is the real source of taciturnity. 26. The knowledge that the ego pervades this universe, which is the representation of the "one that is"; and whose essence is displayed equally in all things, is what is meant by the state of sleepy silence. (_i.e._ the man that has known this grand truth, remains dumb and mute and has nothing to say). 27. Now as it is the consciousness which constitutes all and everything, how can you conceive your distinction from others, who are actuated by the same power, dwelling alike in all? It is this knowledge which is called the ever lasting sleep, and forms the ground work of every kind of silence. 28. This is the silence of profound sleep, and because it is an endless sleep in the ever wakeful God, this sleep is alike to waking. Know this as the fourth stage of _Yoga_, or rather a stage above the same. 29. This profound trance is called hypnotism or the fourth state of entranced meditation; and the tranquillity which is above this state, is to be had in one's waking state. 30. He that is situated in his fourth stage of yoga, has a clear conscience and quiet peace attending on him. This is practicable by the adept even in his waking state, and is obtainable by the righteous soul, both in its embodied as well as disembodied states. 31. Yes, O Ráma! Be you desirous to be settled in this state, and know that neither I or you nor any other person is any real being in this world, which exists only as a reflexion of our mind, and therefore the wise man should rely only in the bosom of the vacuous intellect, which comprehends all things in it. CHAPTER LXIX. UNION OF THE MIND WITH THE BREATH OF LIFE. Argument.--Willful existence of the attendants of Rudra, and the elevation of yogis after their Demise. Ráma said:--Tell me, O chief of sages, how the Rudras came to be a hundred in their number, and whether the attendants of Rudra, are Rudras also or otherwise. 2. Vasishtha replied:--The mendicant saw himself in a hundred forms in a hundred dreams, which he dreamt one after another; these I have told you on the whole before, though I have not specially mentioned them to you. 3. All the forms that he saw in the dream, became so many Rudras, and all these hundred Rudras remained as so many attendants on the principal Rudra. 4. Ráma asked:--But how could the one mind of the mendicant, be divided into a hundred in so many bodies of the Rudras; or was it undivided like a lamp, that lightens a hundred lamps, without any diminution of its own light. 5. Vasishtha answered:--Know Ráma, that disembodied or spiritual beings of pure natures, are capable of assuming to themselves any form of their fancy, from the aqueous nature of their souls (which readily unite with other liquids). (The Sruti says, "the soul is a fluid"; corresponding with the psychic fluid of Stahl). 6. The soul being omnipresent and all pervading (like the all diffusive psychic fluid); takes upon it any form whatever, and whenever and wherever it likes, by virtue of its intelligence: (which the ignorant spirit is unable to do). 7. Ráma rejoined:--But tell me Sir, why the Lord Rudra or Siva wore the string of human skulls about his neck, daubed his body with ashes, and stark naked; and why he dwelt in funeral ground, and was libidinous in the greatest degree. 8. Vasishtha replied:--The Gods and perfect beings as the siddhas &c. are not bound down by the laws, which the weak and ignorant men have devised for their own convenience. 9. The ignorant cannot go on without the guidance of law, on account of their ungovernable minds; or else they are subject to every danger and fear, like poor fishes (which are quite helpless, and entirely at the mercy of all voracious animals). 10. Intelligent people are not exposed to those evils in life, as the ignorant people of ungoverned minds and passions, meet with by their restless and vagrant habits. 11. Wise men discharge their business as they occur to them at times, and never undertake to do any thing of their own accord, and are therefore exposed to no danger. (Graha in the text means a shark and calamities also). 12. It was on the impulse of the occasion that the God Vishnu, engaged himself in action, and so did the God with the three eyes (_i.e._ Siva), as also the God that was born of the lotus (_i.e._ The great Brahmá). (All of them took human forms on them, whenever the Daityas invaded the Bráhmans, and never of their own will). 13. The acts of wise men are neither to be praised or blamed nor are they praiseworthy or blameable; because they are never done from private or public motives (but on the expediency of the occasion). 14. As light and heat are the natural properties, of fire and sun shine; so are the actions of Siva and the Gods, ordained as such from the beginning, as the caste customs of the twice born dwijas (Aryans). 15. Though the natures of all mankind are the same, as they are ordained in the beginning; yet the ignorant have created differences among them, by institution of the distinction of castes and customs; and as their institutions are of their own making, they are subjected by them to the evils of future retribution and transmigration. (Men are bound down by their own laws, from which the brute creation is entirely free). 16. I have related to you, Ráma! the quadruple reticence of embodied beings, and have not as yet expounded the nature of the silence of disembodied souls (as those of the Gods, siddhas and departed saints). 17. Hear now how men are to obtain this chief good (summum bonum) of theirs, by their knowledge of the intellectual souls in the clear sphere of their own intellect, which is clearer far than the etherial sphere of the sky. 18. It is by the knowledge of all kinds of knowledge, and constant devotion to meditation; and by the study of the numerical philosophy of particulars in the sánkhya system, that men became renowned as _Sánkhya yogis_ or categorical philosopher. (The Sánkhya is opposed to the Vedánta, in as much as it rises from particulars to general truths). 19. The yoga consists in the meditation of Yogis, of the form of the eternal and undecaying One; by suppression of their breathings, and union with that state, which presents itself to their mind. 20. That unfeigned and undisguised state of felicity and tranquillity, which is desired as the most desirable thing by all, is obtainable by some by means of the Sánkhya Yoga, and by the Jnána Yoga by others. 21. The result of both these forms of Yoga, is the same, and this is known to anybody that has felt the same; because the state arrived at by the one, is alike to that of the other also. 22. And this supreme state is one, in which the actions of the mental faculties and vital breath, are altogether imperceptible; and the network of desires is entirely dispersed. 23. The desire constitutes the mind, which again is the cause of creation; it is therefore by the destruction of both of these, that one becomes motionless and inactive. (Forgets himself to a stone. Pope). 24. The mind forgets its inward soul, and never looks towards it for a moment; it is solely occupied with its body, and looks at the phantom of the body, as a child looks at a ghost. (Thinking it a reality). 25. The mind itself is a false apparition, and an unsubstantial appearance of our mistake; and shows itself as the death of some body in his dream, which is found to be false upon his waking. 26. The world is the production of the mind, else what am I and who is mine or my offspring; it is custom and our education that have caused the _bugbears_ of our bondage and liberation, which are nothing in reality. 27. There is one thing however, on which is based the bias of both systems; that it is the suppression of breath, and the restriction of mind, which form the sum and substance of what they call their liberation. 28. Ráma rejoined:--Now sir, if it is suppression which constitutes the liberation of these men; then I may as well say that all dead men are liberated, as well as all dead animals also. 29. Vasishtha replied:--Of the three practices of the restriction of the breath, body and mind, I ween the repression of the mind and its thoughts to be the best; because it is easily practicable and I will tell you how it is to be done to our good. 30. When the vital breaths of the liberated souls, quit this mortal frame; it perceives the same in itself, and flies in the shape of a particle in the open sky, and mixes at last with etherial air. 31. The parting soul accompanies with its _tanmátras_ or elementary principles; which comprise the desires of its mind, and which are closely united with breath, and nothing besides. 32. As the vital breath quits one body to enter into another, so it carries with it the desires of the heart, with which it was in the breast of man, as the winds of the air bear the fragrance of flowers. These are reproduced in the future body for its misery only. 33. As a water pot thrown in the sea, does not lose its water, so the vital breath mixing with the etherial air, does not lose the desires of the mind, which it bears with it. They are as closely united with it, as the sun-beams with the sun. 34. The mind cannot be separated from the vital breath (_i.e._ the desires are inseparable from life), without the aid of the knowledge; and as the bird _Titterí_ cannot be removed from one nest without an other (so the soul never passes from one body without finding and entering into another). 35. Knowledge removes the desires, and the disappearance of desires destroys the mind; this produces the suppression of breath, and thence proceeds the tranquillity of the soul. 36. Knowledge shows us the unreality of things, and the vanity of human desires. Hence know O Ráma, that the extinction of desires, brings on the destruction of both the mind and vitality. 37. The mind being with its desires, which form its soul and life, it can no more see the body in which it took so much delight; and then the tranquil soul attains its holiest state. 38. The mind is another name for desire, and this extirpated and wanting, the soul comes to the discrimination of truth, which leads to the knowledge of the supreme. 39. In this manner, O Ráma, we came to the end of our erroneous knowledge of the world, as it is by means of our reason, that we come to detect our error of the snake in the rope. 40. Learn this one lesson, that the restraining of the mind and suppression of breath, mean the one and same thing; and if you succeed in restraining the one, you succeed in the restraint of other also. (So it is said, that our thoughts and respirations go together). 41. As the waving of the palm leaved fan being stopped, there is a stop of the ventilation of air in the room; so the respiration of the vital breath being put to a stop, there ensues a total stoppage of the succession of our thoughts. (It is believed that our time is measured by succession of our breath and thoughts _ajápas_, and the more are they suppressed, the greater is the duration of our life prolonged). 42. The body being destroyed, the breath passes into the vacuous air; where it sees everything according to the desires, which it has wafted along with it, from the cells of the heart and mind. 43. As the living souls find the bodies (of various animals) in which they are embodied, and act according to their different natures; so the departed and disembodied spirits--_pránas_, see many forms and figures presented before them, according to their several desires. They enter into the same, and act agreeably to the nature of that being. 44. As the fragrance of flowers ceases to be diffused in the air, when the breezes have ceased to blow; so the vital breath, ceases to breathe, when the action of the mind is at a stop. (Hence is the concentration of the mind, to one object only strongly enjoyed in the _yoga_ practice).[A] [A] ON THE SIMULTANEOUSNESS OF THOUGHT AND BREATH. Swedenborg saw the intimate connection between thought and vital life. He says:--Thought commences with respiration. The reader has before attended to the presence of heaving over the body; now let him feel his thoughts, and he will see that they too heave with the mass. When he entertains a long thought, he draws a long breath, when he thinks quickly, his breath vibrates with rapid alternations; when the tempest of anger shakes his mind, his breath is tumultuous; when his soul is deep and tranquil, so is his respiration; when success inflates him, his lungs are as timid as his concepts. Let him make trial of the accuracy, let him endeavour to think in long stretches, at the same time that he breathes in fits, and he will find that it is impossible; that in this case the chopping will needs mince his thoughts. Now this mind dwells in the brains, and it is the brain, therefore, which spares the varying fortunes of the breathing. It is strange that this correspondence between the states of the brain or mind and the lungs has not been admitted in science, for it holds in every case, at every moment. "He says moreover--Inward thoughts have inward breaths, and purer spiritual thoughts have spiritual breaths hardly mixed with material." * * * * * See Col. Olcott's Yoga Philosophy Page 283. 45. Hence the course of the thoughts, and respiration of all animals, is known too closely united with one another; as the fragrance is inseparable from the flower, and the oil from the oily seeds. 46. The breath is vacillation of the mind, as the mind is the fluctuation of the breath; and these two go together for ever, as the chariot and its charioteer. 47. These perish together without the assemblage of one another, as the container and the contained are both lost at the loss of either (like that of the fire and its heat). Therefore it is better to lose them for the liberation of the soul, than losing the soul for the sake of the body. 48. Keeping only one object or the unity in view will stop the course of the mind; and the mind being stopped, there will follow as a matter of course, an utter suppression of the breath as its consequence. 49. Investigate well into the truth of the immortality of thy soul, and try to assimilate thyself into the eternal spirit of God; and having absorbed thy mind in the divine mind, be one with the same. 50. Distinguish between thy knowledge and ignorance, and lay hold on what is more expedient for you; settle yourself on what remains after disappearance of both, and live while you live relying on the Intellect alone. 51. Continue to meditate on the existence of all things in one firm and ever existent entity alone, until by your constant habit of thinking so, you find all outward existence disappear into non existence (and present the form of the self-existent only to view). 52. The minds of the abstinent are mortified, with their bodies and vitality, for want of food and enjoyments; and then there remains the consciousness of the transcendent one alone. 53. When the mind is of one even tenor, and is habituated to it by its constant practice; it will put an end to the thought of the endless varieties and particulars, which will naturally disappear of themselves. 54. There is an end of our ignorance and delusion (avidyá), as we attempt to the words of wisdom and reason; we gain our best knowledge by learning, but it is by practice alone, that we can have the object of our knowledge. 55. The mirage of the world will cease to exist, after the mind has become calm and quiet in itself; as the darkness of the sky is dispersed, upon disappearance of the raining clouds. 56. Know your mind alone as the cause of your delusion, and strive therefore to weaken its force and action; but you must not Ráma! weaken it so much, as to lose the sight of the supreme spirit, which shines as the soul of the mind. 57. When the mind is settled with the supreme soul for a moment, know that to be the mature state of thy mind, and will soon yield the sweets of its ripeness. 58. Whether you have your tranquillity, by the _Sánkhya_ or Vedánta Yoga; it is both the same if you can reduce yourself to the supreme soul; and by doing so for a moment, you are no more to be reborn in this nether world. 59. The word divine essence, means the mind devoid of its ignorance; and which like a fried seed is unable to reproduce the arbor of the world, and has no interruption in its meditation of God. 60. The mind that is devoid of ignorance, and freed from its desires, and is settled in its pure essence; comes to see in an instant, a full blaze of light filling the sphere of the firmament in which it rests and which absorbs it quite. 61. The mind is said to be its pure essence, which is insensible of itself, and settled in the supreme soul; it never relapses into the foulness of its nature, as the copper which is mixed with gold, never becomes dirty again. CHAPTER LXX. INTERROGATORIES OF VETÁLA. Arguments:--Conversation of a prince and a Vetála, and Dissipation of Error and manifestation of truth. Vasishtha resumed:--Life becomes no life (becomes immortal), and the mind turns to no mind, immerges in the soul; no sooner is the cloud of ignorance dispersed by the bright sun beams of right reason. This is the state which is termed _moksha_ or liberation (from error) by the wise. 2. The mind and its egoism and tuism (subjectivity and objectivity), appear as water in the mirage, but all these unrealities vanish away, no sooner we come to our right reason; 3. Attend now to the queries of a vetála, which I come to remember at present, concerning our erroneous and dreaming conception of the phenomenal world, and which will serve to example by the subject of our last lecture. 4. There lived a gigantic vetála in the vast wilderness of the Vindhya mountains, who happened to come out on an excursion to the adjoining districts in search of his prey of human beings. 5. He used to live before in the neighbourhood of a populous city, where he lived quite happy and well satisfied with the victims; which were daily offered to him by the good citizens. 6. He never killed a human being without some cause or harm, although he roved through the city, pinched by hunger and thirst. He walked in the ways of the honest and equitable men in the place. 7. It came to pass in course of time that he went out of the city, to reside in his woody retreat; where he never killed any man, except when pressed by excessive hunger, and when he thought it was equitable for him to do so. 8. He happened to meet there once a ruler of the land, strolling about in his nightly round; to whom he cried out in a loud and appalling voice. 9. The vetála exclaimed:--Where goest thou, O prince, said he, thou art now caught in the clutches of a hideous monster, thou art now a dead man, and hast become my ration of this day. 10. The ruler replied:--Beware, O nocturnal fiend! that I will break thy skull into a thousand pieces, if you will unjustly attempt to kill me by force at this spot, and make thy ration of me. 11. The vetála rejoined:--I do not tell thee unjustly, and speak it rightly unto thee; that as thou art a ruler, it is thy duty to attend to the petition of every body (wherein if thou failest, thou surely diest before me). 12. I request thee, O prince! to solve the questions that I propose to thee; because I believe thou art best able to give a full and satisfactory answer to every one of them. (These questions are dark enigmas, which are explained in the next chapter). 13. Who is that glorious sun, the particles of whose rays, are seen to glitter in the surrounding worlds: and what is that wind (or force), which wafts these dusts of stars, in the infinite space of vacuum. 14. What is that self-same thing, which passes from one dream to another, and assumes different forms by hundreds and thousands, and yet does not forsake its original form. 15. Tell me what is that pithy particle in bodies, which is enveloped under a hundred folds or sheaths, which are laid over and under one another, like the coats or lamina of a plantain tree. 16. What is that minute atom which is imperceptible to the eye, and yet produces this immeasurable universe, with its stupendous worlds and skies, and the prodigious planets on high and mountains below, which are the minutest of that minute particle. 17. What is that shapeless and formless thing atom, which remains as the pith and marrow under the rocks of huge mountains, and which is the substratum of the triple world (of heaven, earth and infernal regions). 18. If you, O wicked soul, fail to answer to these queries, then shalt thou be a killer of thyself, by your being made my food this moment. And know that at the end, I will devour all thy people, as the regent of death destroys every body in the world. CHAPTER LXXI. THE PRINCE'S REPLY TO THE FIRST QUESTION OF THE VETÁLA. Arguments:--Answer to the first question regarding the Prime cause of all, shows the infinite worlds to be the trees and fruits of that original root. Vasishtha related:--The Rájá smiled at hearing these questions of the Demon, and as he opened his mouth to give the reply, the lustre of his pearly teeth, shed a brightness on the white vault of the sky. (This shows how much the early Hindus prized their white teeth, though latterly they tinged them with blue vitriol). 2. This world was at first a rudimentary granule (in the Divine mind), and was afterwards encrusted by a dozen of elemental sheaths as its pellicles, skin and bark. (Does it mean the component elements or layers _Bhúta-tatwa_ or _Bhú-tatwa_). 3. The tree which bears thousands of such fruits, is very high also with its equally out stretching branches, and very long and broad leaves likewise. 4. This great tree is of a huge size and very astounding to sight; it has thousands of prodigious branches spreading wide on every side. 5. There are thousands of such trees, and a dense forest of many other large trees and plants in that person. 6. Thousands of such forests stretch over it, abounding in thousands of mountains with their elevated peaks. 7. The wide extended tracts which contain these mountains, have also very large valleys and dales amidst in them. 8. These wide spread tracts contain also many countries, with their adjacent islands and lakes and rivers too. 9. These thousands of islands also contain many cities, with varieties of edifices and works of art. 10. These thousands tracts of lands, which are sketched out as so many continents, are as so many earths and worlds in their extent. 11. That which contains thousands of such worlds, as the mundane eggs, is as unlimited as the spacious womb of the firmament. 12. That which contains thousands of such eggs in its bosom, bears also many thousands of seas and oceans resting calmly in its ample breast. 13. That which displays the boisterous waves of seas, is the sprightly and sportive soul, heaving as the clear waters of the ocean. 14. That which contains thousands of such oceans, with all their waters in his unconscious womb, is the God Vishnu who filled the universal ocean with his all pervasive spirit. (And the spirit of God floated on the face of the waters, Moses. The waters were the first abode of Náráyana). 15. That which bears thousands of such Gods, as a string of pearls about the neck, is the Great God Rudra. 16. That which bears thousands of such Great Gods Mahádevas, in the manner of the hairs on his person; is the supreme Lord God of all. 17. He is that great sun that he shines in a hundred such persons of the Gods, all of whom are but frictions of the rays of that Great source of light and life. 18. All things in the universe are but particles of that uncreated sun; and thus have I explained to you that Intellectual sun, who fills the world with his rays, and shows them light. 19. The all knowing soul is the supreme sun that enlightens the world, and fills all things in it with particles of its rays. (The soul is the sun, whose light of knowledge manifests all things unto us). 20. It is the Omniscient soul, which is that surpassing sun, whose rays produce and show everything to light; and without which as in the absence of the solar light, nothing would grow nor be visible in the outer world. (The sun's heat and light are the life and shower of the sight of the world). 21. All living beings who have their souls enlightened by the light of philosophy, behold the sphere of the universe to be a blaze of the gemming sun of the intellect; and there is not the least tinge of the erroneous conceptions of the material world in it. Know this and hold your peace.[A] [A] By a figure of speech light and knowledge are synonymous terms, and so are their sources the sun and soul interchangeable to one another. And as the Divine spirit is the creator of all things, so is the sun producer and grower of everything in the visible world. Hence has risen the mistake of taking the sun--the savitar or producer for the Divine soul the creator among the sun worshippers, who believe the sun to be the soul of the universe. (Súrya atmájagatah in the sruti). Hence has grown the popular error of address in the Gáyatrí hymn to the sun, which was used as an invocation of the supreme soul, and is still understood as such by theists. CHAPTER LXXII. ANSWERS TO THE REMAINING QUESTIONS. Argument:--The Rájah's replies to the five remaining questions of the Demon. The Rájah replied:--The essences of time, vacuum and of force, are all of intellectual origin; it is the pure intellect which is the source of all, as the air is the receptacle of odours and dusts. (The mind contains all things). 2. The supreme soul is as the universal air, which breathes out the particles contained in the intellect; as the etherial air bears the fragrance from the cells of flowers. (The soul is called _átmá_ corresponding with the Greek _atmos_ air, in which sense it is the same with the spirit). (This is the answer to the second question). 3. The great Brahma of the conscious soul, passing through the dreaming world (it being but a dream only passes from one scene to another without changing its form). (The soul is conscious of the operations of the mind, but never changes with the mental phenomena). 4. As the stem (stambha) of plantain tree, is a folding of its pellicles plaited over one another, and having its pith hidden in the inside; so everything in the world presents its exterior coats to the view, while its substance of Brahma is deeply hid in the interior. 5. The words ens, soul and Brahma by which God is designated, are not significant of his nature, who is devoid of all designations like the empty void, and indescribable (avyapadesa) in any word in use. (So the sruti: na tatra vak gachchhate, to Him no words can approach; _i.e._ no words can express Him). 6. Whatever essence is perceived by one as the product of another, is like the upper fold or plait of the plantain tree, produced by the inner one; and all such coating are but developments of the Divine Intellect lying at the bottom. (As the essence of the cloth is the thread, which is the product of cotton produced by the pod of the cotton plant, which is produced from the seed grown by the moisture of the water &c., the last of which has the Divine essence for its prime cause and source.) 7. The supreme soul is said to be a minute atom, on account of the subtility and imperceptibility of its nature; and it is said also to be the base of mountains and all other bodies, owing to the unboundedness of its extent. (This is in answer to the fifth question). 8. The endless being though likened to a minute atom, is yet as large as to contain all these worlds as its minutest particles; which are as evident to us as the very many aerial scenes appearing in our minds in the state of dreaming. (The small grain of the soul contains the universe, as the particle of the mind contains the worlds in it). 9. This being is likened to an atom owing to its imperceptibleness, and is also represented as a mountain on account of its filling all space; though it is the figure of all formal existence, yet it is without any form or figure of its own. (The Sruti says: "_neti-neti_, He is neither this nor that"). 10. The three worlds are as the fatty bulb of that pithy intelligence; for know thou righteous soul! that it is that Intelligence which dwells in and acts in all the worlds. (The Sruti says: the vacuity of the heart is the seat of intelligence, which is the pith of the _mássa_ or muscular body, and the vacuous air is the seat of the soul, whose body is the triple world). 11. All these worlds are fraught with design of Intelligence, which is quiet in its nature, and exhibits endless kinds of beautiful forms of its own, know, O young vetála, that irresistible power, reflect this in thyself and keep thy quiet. CHAPTER LXXIII. END OF THE STORY OF THE VETÁLA DEMON. Arguments:--After part of Vetála's tale and Preamble to the tale of Bhagíratha. Vasishtha resumed:--After hearing these words from the mouth of the prince, the vetála held his peace and quiet, and remained reflecting on them in his mind, which was capable of reasoning. 2. Being then quite calm in his mind, he reflected on the pure doctrines of the prince; and being quite absorbed in his fixed meditation, he forgot at once his hunger and thirst. 3. I have thus related to you, Ráma, about the questions of the vetála, and the manner in which these worlds are situated in the atom of the intellect and no where else. 4. The world residing in the cell of the atomic intellect, ceases to subsist by itself upon right reasoning; so the body of a ghost exists in the fancy of boys only, and there remains nothing at last except the everlasting one. 5. Curb and contract thy thought and heart from every thing, and enclose thy inward soul in itself; do what thou hast to do at any time, without desiring or attempting any thing of thy own will, and thus have the peace of thy mind. 6. Employ your mind, O silent sage! to keep itself as clean as the clear firmament, remain in one even and peaceful tenor of thy soul, and view all things in one and the same light (of tolerance and catholicism). 7. A steady and dauntless mind with its promptness in action, is successful in most arduous undertakings, as was the prince Bhagíratha with his unsevering perseverance. 8. It was by his perfectly peaceful and contended mind, and by the lasting felicity of the equanimity of his soul, that this prince succeeded to bring down the heavenly Ganges on earth, and the princes of Sagar's line were enabled to perform the arduous task of digging the bay of Bengal. (Where they were buried alive by curse of the sage Kapila, for disturbing his silent meditations). CHAPTER LXXIV. ACCOUNT AND ADMONITION OF BHAGÍRATHA. Argument:--Conduct and character of Bhagíratha, his private reflexion and the Instructions of his tutor. Ráma said:--Please sir, to relate unto me, the wonderful narrative of prince Bhagíratha, how he succeeded to bring down the heavenly stream of Gangá on the earth below. 2. Vasishtha replied:--The prince Bhagíratha was a personage of eminent virtues, and was distinguished as a crowning mark (_Tilaka_), over all countries of this terraqueous earth and its seas. 3. All his suitors received their desired boons, even without their asking; and their hearts were as gladdened at the sight of his moon-bright countenance, as were it at the sight of a precious and brilliant gem. 4. His charities were always profusely lavished upon all good people, for their maintenance and supportance; while he carefully collected even straws (for his revenue), and prized them as they were gems unto him. (_i.e._ He earned as he gave). 5. He was as bright in his person, as the blazing fire without its smoke, and was never weak even when he was tired in the discharge of his duties. He drove away poverty from the abodes of men, as the rising sun dispels the darkness of night from within their houses. 6. He spread all around him the effulgence of his valour, as the burning fire scatters about its sparks; and he burned as the blazing midday sun, among all his hostile bands. 7. Yet he was gentle and soft in the society of wisemen, and cooled their hearts with his cooling speech. He shone amidst the learned, as the moon-stone glistens under the moon light. 8. He decorated the world with its triple cord of the sacrificial thread, by stretching out the three streams of the Ganges, along the three regions of heaven, earth and infernal regions. (Hence Gangá is called the tripathagá or running in the trivium in heaven, earth and hell). 9. He filled the ocean that had been dried up by the sage Agastya, with the waters of Ganges; as the bounteous man fills the greedy beggar with his unbounded bounty. 10. This benefactor of mankind, redeemed his ancestral kinsmen from the infernal region (in which they were accursed by the indignant sage;) and led them to the heaven of Brahmá, by the passage of the sacred Gangá (which ran through the three worlds of heaven, earth and hell). 11. He overcame by his resolute perseverance, all his manifold obstacles and troubles, in his alternate propitiations of the god Brahmá and Siva and the sage Jahnu, for their discharging the course of the stream. (The holy Gangá was first confined in Brahmá's water pot, and then restricted in Hara's crown, and lastly locked up under Jahnu's seat, whence the river has the nickname of Jáhnaví). 12. Though he was yet in the vigour of his youth, he seemed even then to feel the decay of age, coming fastly upon him, at his incessant thoughts on the miseries of human life. 13. His excogitation of the vanities of the world, produced in him a philosophical apathy to them; and this _sang froid_ or cold heartedness of his in the prime of his youth, was like the shooting forth of a tender sprout on a sudden in a barren desert. (So great was the early abstractedness from the world, prized by the ancient Aryans, that many monarchs are mentioned to have became religious recluses in their youth). 14. The prince thought in his retired moments on the impropriety of his worldly conduct, and made the following reflections, on the daily duties of life in his silent soliloquy. 15. I see the return of day and night, in endless succession after one another; and I find the repetition of the same acts of giving and taking (receipts and disbursements), and lasting the same enjoyments, to have grown tedious and insipid to me. (So it was with Rasselas the prince of Abyssinia, who felt disgusted at the daily rotation of the same pleasures and enjoyments and one unvaried course of life). 16. I think that only to be worth my seeking and doing, which being obtained and done, there is nothing else to desire or do in this transitory life of troubles and cares. 17. Is it not shameful for a sensible being, to be employed in the same circuit of business every day, and is it not laughable to be doing and undoing the same thing, like silly boys day by day? 18. Being thus vexed with the world, and afraid of the consequence of his worldly course, Bhagíratha repaired in silence to the solitary cell of his preceptor Tritala, and bespoke to him in the following manner. 19. Bhagíratha said:--My Lord! I am entirely tired and disgusted with the long course of my worldly career, which I find to be all hollow and empty within it, and presenting a vast wilderness without. 20. Tell me lord, how can I get over the miseries of this world, and get freed from my fear of death and disease and from the fetters of errors and passions, to which I am so fast enchained. (The Hindu mind is most sensible of the baneful effects of the primeval curse pronounced on man, and the accursedness of his posterity and of this earth for his sake; and is always in eager search of salvation, redemption or liberation from the same by _mukti_, _moksha_, and _paritrána_). 21. Tritala replied:--It is to be effected by means of the continued evenness of one's disposition (obtained by his quadruple practice of devotion _sádhana_); the uninterrupted joyousness of his soul (arising from its communion with the Holy spirit); by his knowledge of the knowable true one, and by his self sufficiency in everything (tending to his perfection). (The quadruple devotion consists in one's attendance to holy lectures and in his understanding, reflection and practice of the same lessons, called the _sádhana chatushtaya_). 22. By these means the man is released from misery, his worldly bonds are relaxed, his doubts are dissipated, and all his actions tend to his well being in both worlds. 23. That which is called the knowable, is the pure soul of the nature of intelligence; it is always present in everything in all places and is eternal--having neither its rising or setting (_i.e._ its beginning or end). The animating soul of the world, is identified with the supreme and universal soul of God. The vedánta knows no duality of the animal and animating souls. 24. Bhagíratha rejoined:--I know, O great sage! the pure intelligent soul to be perfectly calm and tranquil, undecaying and devoid of all attributes and qualities; and neither the embodied spirit, nor the animal soul, nor the indwelling principle of material bodies. 25. I cannot understand sir, how I can be that intelligence, when I am so full of errors, or if I be the selfsame soul, why is it not so manifest in me as the pure divine soul itself. 26. Tritala replied:--It is by means of knowledge only, that the mind can know the truly knowable one in the sphere of one's own intellect, and then the animal soul finding itself as the all-pervading spirit, is released from future birth and transmigration. (The belief of the difference of one's soul from the eternal one, is the cause of his regeneration). 27. It is our unattachment to earthly relations, and unaccompaniment of our wives, children and other domestic concerns, together with the equanimity of our minds, in whatsoever is either advantageous or disadvantageous to us, that serve to widen the sphere of our souls and cause their universality. 28. It is also the union of our souls with the supreme spirit, and our continual communion with God; as also our seclusion from society and remaining in retirement that widen the scope of our souls. 29. It is the continued knowledge of spirituality, and insight into the sense of the unity and identity of God, which are said to constitute our true knowledge; all besides is mere ignorance and false knowledge. 30. It is the abatement of our love and hatred, that is the only remedy for our malady of worldliness; and it is the extinction of our egoistic feelings, that leads to the knowledge of truth. 31. Bhagíratha responded:--Tell me, O reverend sir, how is it possible for any body to get rid of his egoism, which is deep rooted in our constitution, and has grown as big with our bodies as lofty trees on mountain tops. 32. Tritala replied:--All egoistic feelings subside of themselves under the abandonment of worldly desires, which is to be done by the very great efforts of fortitude, in our exercise of the virtues of self-abnegation and self-command, and by the expansion of our souls to universal benevolence. 33. We are so long subjected to the reign of our egoism, as we have not the courage to break down the painful prison house of shame at our poverty, and the fear at our exposure to the indignity of others. (Poverty is shameful to worldly people, but graceful to holy men). 34. If you can therefore renounce all your worldly possessions and remain unmoved in your mind (although in actual possession of them); you may then get rid of your egoism, and attain to the state of supreme bliss. 35. Bereft of all titular honors, and freed from the fear of falling into poverty (and its consequent indignity); being devoid of every endeavour of rising, and remaining as poor and powerless among invidious enemies; and rather living in contemptible beggary among them, without the egoistic pride of mind and vanity of the body; if you can thus remain in utter destitution of all, you are then greater than the greatest. CHAPTER LXXV. SUPINENESS OF BHAGÍRATHA. Argument:--Great bounty of Bhagíratha and his indigence in consequence; and his recourse to asceticism with his tutor. Vasishtha related:--Having heard these monitions from the mouth of his religious monitor, he determined in his mind what he was about to do, and set about the execution of his purpose. 2. He passed a few days in devising his project, and then commenced his _agnishtoma_ sacrifice to the sacred fire, for consecrating his all to it, for the sake of obtaining his sole object (of Nirvána or being extinct in the essence of God). 3. He gave away his kine and lands, his horses and jewels, and his monies without number, to the twice born classes of men and his relatives, without distinction of their merit or demerit. 4. During three days he gave away profusely all what he had, till at last he had nothing for himself, except his life and flesh and bones. 5. When his exhaustless treasures were all exhausted, he gave up his great realm like a straw to his neighbouring enemies, to the great mortification of his subjects and citizens (paurakas). 6. As the enemy overran his territories and kingdom, and seized his royal palace and properties; he girt himself in his undergarb, and went away beyond the limits of his kingdom. 7. He wandered afar through distant villages and desert lands, till at last he settled himself where he was quite unknown to all, and nobody knew his person or face or his name and title. 8. Remaining there retired for some time, he became quite composed and blunt to all feelings from within and without himself; and he obtained his rest and repose in the serene tranquillity of his soul. 9. He then roved about different countries and went to distant islands (to see the various manners of men); till at last he turned unawares to his natal land and city, which was in the grasp of his enemies. 10. There while he was wandering from door to door, as he was led about by the current of time; he was observed by the citizens and ministers to be begging their alms. 11. All the citizens and ministers recognized their ex-king Bhagíratha, whom they honoured with their due homage, and whom they were very sorry to behold in that miserable plight. 12. His enemy (the reigning prince) came out to meet him, and implored him to receive back his neglected estate and self-abandoned kingdom; but he slighted all their offers as trifling straws, except taking his slender repast at their hands. 13. He passed a few days there and then bent his course to another way, when the people loudly lamented at his sad condition saying: "Ah! what has become of the unfortunate Bhagíratha". 14. Then the prince walked about with the calmness of his soul, and with his contended mind and placid countenance; and he amused himself with his wandering habits and thoughts, until he came to meet his tutor Tritala on the way. 15. They welcomed one another, and then joining together, they both began to wander about the localities of men, and to pass over hills and deserts in their holy peregrinations. 16. Once on a time as both the dispassionate pupil and his preceptor, were sitting together in the cool calmness of their dispositions, their conversations turned on the interesting subject of human life. 17. What good is there in our bearing the frail body, and what do we lose by our loss of it. (Since neither reap nor lose any real advantage, either by our having or losing of it at any time, yet we should bear with it as it is, in the discharge of the duties that have come down unto us by the custom of the country). 18. They remained quiet with this conclusion, and passed their time in passing from one forest to another; without feeling any joy above their inward bliss, or knowing any sorrow or the intermediate state of joy and grief (which is the general lot of humanity), and the rotatory course of pleasure and pain in this world. 19. They spurned all riches and properties, the possession of horses and cattle, and even the eight kinds of supernatural powers (Siddhis) as rotten straws before the contentedness of their minds. 20. This body which is the result of our past acts, must be borne with fortitude, whether we wish it or not, as long as it lasts; with his continued conviction in the discharge of their duties (of asceticism). 21. They like silent sages, hailed with complaisance, whatever of good or evil, or desirable or undesirable befell to their lot, as the unavoidable results of their prior deeds; and had their repose in the heavenly felicity, to which they had assimilated themselves. (So the sruti: The Divine are one with Divine felicity). CHAPTER LXXVI THE DESCENT OF GANGÁ ON EARTH. Argument:--Reinstatement of Bhagíratha in his Kingdom, and his bringing down the heavenly stream by means of his austere Devotion. Vasishtha continued:--It came to pass at one time as Bhagíratha was passing through a large metropolis, he beheld the ruler of that province, who was childless to be snatched away by the hand of death, as a shark seizes a fish for its prey. 2. The people being afraid of anarchy and lawlessness for want of a ruler, were in search of a proper person joined with noble endowments and signs to be made their future king. 3. They met with the silent and patient prince in the act of begging alms, and knowing him as the king Bhagíratha himself, they took him with them escorted by their own regiments, to install him on the throne as their king. 4. Bhagíratha instantly mounted on an elephant, and was led by a large body of troops, who assembled about him as thickly, as the drops of rain water fall into and fill a lake. 5. The people then shouted aloud, "Here is Bhagíratha our lord; may he be victorious for ever", and the noise thereof reached to the furthest mountains, and filled their hollow caves (which reached to the sound). 6. Then as Bhagíratha remained to reign over that realm, the subjects of his own and former kingdom came reverently to him, and thus prayed unto their king saying:-- 7. The people said:--Great king! the person who thou didst appoint to rule over us, is lately devoured by death as a little fish by a large one. 8. Therefore deign to rule over thy realm, nor refuse to accept an offer which comes unasked to thee (so it is said:--It is not right to slight even a mite, that comes of itself to any body, but it is to be deemed as a God-sent blessing). 9. Vasishtha said:--The king being so besought accepted their prayer, and thus became the sole manager of the earth, bounded by the seven seas on all sides. 10. He continued to discharge the duties of royalty without the least dismay or disquietude, though he was quite calm and serene in his mind, quiet in his speech, and devoid of passions and envy or selfishness. 11. He then thought of the redemption of his ancestors, who excavated the coast of the sea (and made this bay of Bengal); and were burned alive underneath the ground (by the curse of sage Kapila); by laving their bones and dead bodies with the waves of Ganges, which he heard, had the merit of purity and saving all souls and bodies. (The ancestors of Bhagíratha were the thousand sons of sagara, who were masters of Saugar islands in the bay of Bengal). 12. The heavenly stream of the Ganges did not till then run over the land, it was Bhagíratha that brought it down, and first washed his ancestral remains with its holy waters. The stream was thence forth known by his name as Bhagíratha. 13. The king Bhagíratha was thenceforward resolved, to bring down the holy Gangá of heaven to the nether world. (The triple Ganges is called the Tripathagá or fluvium trivium or running in three directions). 14. The pious prince then resigned his kingdom to the charge of his ministers, and went to the solitary forest with the resolution of making his austere devotion, for the success of his undertaking. 15. He remained there for many years and under many rains, and worshipped the Gods Brahmá and Siva and the sage Jahnu by turns, until he succeeded to bring down the holy stream on the earth below. (It is said that Gangá was pent-up at first in the water pot of Brahmá, and then in the crown of Siva and lastly under the thighs of Jahnu, all which are allegorical of the fall of the stream from the cascade of Gangotri in Haridwar). 16. It was then that the crystal wave of the Ganges, gushed out of the basin of Brahmá the lord of the world and rushed into the moony crest of Hara; and falling on earth below it took a triple course, like the meritorious acts of great men (which were lauded in all three worlds of their past, present and future lives). 17. It was thus the trivium river of Gangá, came to flow over this earth, as the channel to bear the glory of Bhagíratha to distant lands. Behold her running fast with her upheaving waves, and smiling all along with her foaming froths; she sprinkles purity all along with the drizzling drops of her breakers, and scatters plenty over the land as the reward of the best deserts of men. CHAPTER LXXVII. NARRATIVE OF CHÚDÁLÁ AND SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--Story of the _Princess Chúdálá and her marriage_ with Sikhidhwaja and their youthful sports. Vasishtha related:--Ráma! do you keep your view fixed to one object, as it was kept in the mind of Bhagíratha; and do you pursue your calling with a calm and quiet understanding, as it was done by that steady minded prince in the accomplishment of his purpose! (For he that runs many ways, stands in the middle and gets to the end of none). 2. Give up your thoughts of this and that (shilly-shallying), and confine the flying bird of your mind within your bosom, and remain in full possession of yourself after the example of the resolute prince Sikhidhwaja of old. 3. Ráma asked:--Who was this Sikhidhwaja, sir, and how did he maintain the firmness of his purpose? Please explain this fully to me for the edification of my understanding. 4. Vasishtha replied:--It was in a former _Dwápara age_, that there lived a loving pair of consorts who are again to be born in a future period, in the same manner and at the same place. 5. Ráma rejoined:--Tell me, O great preacher! how the past could be the same as at present, and how can these again be alike in future also. (Since there can be no cause of the likeness of past ages and their productions with those of the present or future. It is reasonable to believe the recurrence of such other things, but not of the same and very things as of yore). 6. Vasishtha replied:--Such is the irreversible law of destiny and the irreversible course of nature, that the creation of the world must continue in the same manner by the invariable will of the creative Brahmá and others. (_i.e._ The repeated creation of worlds must go on in the same rotation by the inevitable will (Satya Sankalpa) of the creative power; wherefore bygone things are to return and be re-born over and over again). 7. As those which had been plentiful before come to be as plenteous again, so the past appears at present and in future also. Again many things come to being that had not been before, and so many others become extinct in course of time (_e. g._ as past crops return again and again and vegetables grow where there were none, and as a lopped off branch grows no more). 8. Some reappear in their former forms and some in their resemblance also; others are changed in their forms, and many more disappear altogether (see, for example, the different shapes of the waves of the ocean). 9. These and many other things are seen in the course of the world; and therefore the character of the subject of the present narrative will be found to bear exact resemblance to that of the bygone prince of the same name. 10. Hear me tell you, also, that there is yet to be born such another prince, as valiant as the one that had been in the former _dwápara age_ of the past seventh manvantara period. 11. It will be after the four _yugas_ of the fourth creation, past and gone, that he will be born again of the Kuru family in the vicinity of the Vindhyan mountains in the Jambudwípa continent. (This extravagant sloka is omitted in other editions of this work). 12. There lived a prince by name of Sikhidhwaja in the country of Malava, who was handsome in his person, and endowed with firmness and magnanimity in his nature, and the virtues of patience and self control in his character. 13. He was brave but silent, and even inclined to good acts with all his great virtues; he was engaged in the performance of the religious sacrifices, as also in defeating bowyers in archery. 14. He did many acts (of public endowments), and supported the poor people of the land; he was of a graceful appearance and complacent in his countenance, and loved all men with his great learning in the sástras. 15. He was handsome, quiet and fortunate, and equally as valiant as he was virtuous. He was a preacher of morality and bestower of all benefits to his suitors. 16. He enjoyed all luxuries in the company of good people, and listened to the lessons of the Srutis. He knew all knowledge without any boast on his part, and he hated to touch women as straws. 17. His father departed to the next world, leaving him a lad of sixteen years in age; and yet he was able at that tender age to govern his realm, by defeating his adversaries on all sides. 18. He conquered all other provinces of the country by means of the resources of his empire; and he remained free from all apprehension by ruling his subjects with justice and keeping them in peace. 19. He brightened all sides by his intelligence and the wisdom of his ministers, till in the course of years he came to his youth, as in the gaudy spring of the year. 20. It was the vernal season, and he beheld the blooming flowers glistening brightly under the bright moon-beams; and he saw the budding blossoms, hanging down the arbours in the inner apartments. 21. The door ways of the bowers were overhung with twining branches, decorated with florets scattering their fragrant dust like the hoary powder of camphor; and the rows of the _guluncha_ flowers wafted their odours all around. 22. There was the loud hum of bees, buzzing with their mates upon the flowery bushes; and the gentle zephyrs were wafting the sweet scent amidst the cooling showers of moonbeams. 23. He saw the banks decorated with the _kadalí_ shrubbery glistening with their gemming blossoms under the sable shade of _kadalí_ (plantain) leaves; which excited his yearning after the dear one that was seated in his heart. 24. Giddy with the intoxication of the honey draughts of fragrant flowers, his mind was fixed on his beloved object, and did not depart from it, as the spring is unwilling to quit the flowery garden (so says Hapiz,--no pleasant sight is gladsome to the mind without the face of the fair possessor of the heart: see Sir Wm. Jones' version of it). 25. When shall I in this swinging cradles of my pleasure garden, and when will I in my sports in this lake of lotuses, play with my love-smitten maid with her budding breasts resembling the two unblown blossoms of golden lotuses? 26. When shall I embrace my beloved one to my bosom on my bed daubed with the dust of powdered frankincense, and when shall we on cradles of lotus stalks, like a pair of bees sucking the honey from flower cups? 27. When shall I see that maiden lying relaxed in my arms, with her slender body resembling a tender stalk, and as fair as a string of milk-white _kunda_ flowers, or as a plant formed of moon-beams? 28. When will that moonlike beauty be inflamed with her love to me? With these and the like thoughts and ravings he roved about the garden looking at the variety of flowers. 29. He then went on rambling in the flowery groves and skirts of forests, and thence strayed onward from one forest to another, and by the side of purling lakes blooming with the full blown lotuses. (The lotus is the emblem of beauty in the east, as the rose is in the west). 30. He entered in the alcoves formed by the twining creepers, and walked over the avenues of many garden grounds and forest lands, seeing and hearing the descriptions of woodland sceneries (from his associates). 31. He was distracted in his mind, and took much delight in hearing discourses on erotic subjects, and the bright form of his necklaced and painted beloved was the sole idol in his breast. 32. He adored the maiden in his heart, with her breasts resembling two golden pots on her person; and this ween was soon found by the sagacious ministers of the state. 33. As it is the business of ministership to dive into matters by their signs and prognosis, so these officers met together to deliberate on his marriage. 34. They proposed the youthful daughter of the king of Syrastra (Surat) for his marriage, and thought her as a proper match for him, on account of her coming to the full age of puberty (_lit._ to the prime of her youth). 35. The prince was married to her who was a worthy image (or like co-partner) of himself; and this fair princess was known by the name of _Chúdálá_ all over the land. 36. She was as joyous in having him, as the new blown lotus at the rising sun; and he made the black-eyed maid to bloom, as the moon opens the bud of the blue lotus. (Lotuses are known as helio-solenus, the white ones opening at sun rise and the blue kind blooming with the rising moon). 37. He delighted her with his love, as gives the white lotus to bloom; and they both inflamed their mutual passions by their abiding in the heart of one another. 38. She flourished with her youthful wiles and dalliance, like a new grown creeper blooming with its flowers, and he was happy, and careless in her company by leaving the state affairs to the management of the ministers. (The words háv Chavavilasa, implying amorous dalliance, are all comprised in the couplet "quips and cranks and wanton wiles, nods and becks and wreathed smiles".--Pope). 39. He disported in the company of his lady love, as the swan sports over a bed of lotuses in a large lake; and indulged his frolics in his swinging cradles and pleasure ponds in the inner apartments. 40. They reveled in the gardens and groves, and in the bowers of creepers and flowering plants; and amused themselves in the woods and in walks under the sandalwood and a _gulancha_ shades. 41. They sported by the rows of _mandára_ trees, and beside the lines of plantain and kadalí plants; and regaled themselves wandering in the harem, and by the sides of the woods and lakes in the skirts of the town. 42. He roved afar in distant forests and deserts, and in jungles of _Jám_ and _Jám bira_ trees; they passed by paths bordered by Játí or jasmine plants, and, in short they took delight in everything in the company of one another. 43. The mutual attachment to one another was as delightsome to the people as the union of the raining sky with the cultivated ground; both tending to the welfare of mankind by the productiveness of the general weal. (This far-fetched simile and the mazy construction of the passage is incapable of a literal version). 44. They were both skilled in the arts of love and music, and were so united together by their mutual attachment, that the one was a counterpart of the other. 45. Being seated in each others heart, they were as two bodies with one soul; so that the learning of the sástras of the one, and the skill in painting and fine arts of the other, were orally communicated to and learnt by one another. 46. She from her childhood was trained in every branch of learning, and he learned the arts of dancing and playing on musical instruments, from the oral instructions of _Chúdálá_. 47. They learned and became learned in the respective arts and parts of one another; as the sun and moon being set in conjunction (amavasyá), impart to and partake of the qualities of each other. 48. Being mutually situated in the heart of one another, they became the one and the same person and both being in the same inclination and pursuit, were the more endeared to one another (as a river running to the milky ocean is assimilated to the ocean of milk, so all souls mixing with the supreme soul form one universal and only soul). 49. They were joined in one person, as the _androgyne_ body of Umá and Siva on earth; and were united in one soul, as the different fragrances of flowers are mixed up with the common air. Their clearness of understanding and learning of the sástras led them both in the one and same way. 50. They were born on earth to perform their parts, like the God _Vishnu_ and his consort Lakshmí; they were equally frank and sweet by their mutual affection, and were as informed as communicative of their learning to others. 51. They followed the course of the laws and customs, and attended to the affairs of the people; they delighted in the arts and sciences, and enjoyed their sweet pleasures also. They appeared as the two moons, shining with their beams. 52. They tasted all their sweet enjoyments of life, in the quiet and solitary recesses of their private apartments, as a couple of giddy swans sporting merrily in the lake of the azure sky. CHAPTER LXXVIII. BEATIFICATION OF CHÚDÁLÁ. Argument:--The distaste and indifference of the happy pair to worldly enjoyments. Vasishtha continued:--In this manner did this happy pair, revel for many years in the pleasures of their youth, and tasted with greater zest, every new delight that came on their way day by day. 2. Years repeated their reiterated revolutions over their protracted revelries till by and by their youth began to give way to the decay of age; as the broken pitcher gives way to its waters out (or rather as the leaky vessel gives way to the waters in). 3. They then thought that their bodies are as frail as the breakers on the sea; and as liable to fall as the ripened fruits of trees, and that death is not to be averted by any body. 4. As the arrowy snows rend the lotus leaves, so is our old age ready to batter and shatter our frames; and the cup of our life is drizzling away day by day, as the water held in the palm falls away by sliding drops. 5. While our avarice is increasing on our hand, like the gourd plant in the rainy weather, so doth our youth glide away as soon as the torrent falls from the mountain cliffs to the ground. 6. Our life is as false as a magic play, and the body a heap of rotting things; our pleasures are few and painful, and as fleeting as the flying arrows from the archers bow. 7. Afflictions pounce upon our hearts, as vultures and kites dart upon fish and flesh; and these our bodies are as momentary as the bursting bubbles of dropping rains (or of rain drops). 8. All reasoning and practice are as unsound, as the unsolid stem of the plantain tree; and our youth is as evanescent, as a fugacious woman that is in love with many men. 9. The taste of youthful pleasure, is soon succeeded by a distaste to it in old age; just as the vernal freshness of plants, gives room to the dryness of autumn; where then is that permanent pleasure and lasting good in this world; which never grows stale, and is ever sweet and lovely. 10. Therefore should we seek that thing, which will support us in all conditions of life, and which will be a remedy of all the maladies (evils), which circumvent us in this world. 11. Being thus determined, they were both employed in the investigation of spiritual philosophy; because they thought their knowledge of the soul to be the only healing balm of the cholic pain of worldliness. (Because spiritual knowledge extricates the soul from its earthly bondage). 12. Thus resolved, they were both devoted to their spiritual culture, and employed their head and heart, their lives and souls in the inquiry, and placed all their hope and trust in the same. 13. They remained long in the study and mutual communication of their spiritual knowledge; and continued to meditate upon and worship the soul of souls in their own souls. 14. They both rejoiced in their investigations into Divine knowledge, and she took a great delight in attending incessantly, to the admonitions and sermons of the Divine prelates. 15. Having heard the words of salvation, from the mouths of the spiritual doctors, and from their exposition of the Sástras; she continued thus to reflect about the soul by day and night. (Blessed is the man, that meditates on the laws of God by day and night. Psalm.) 16. Whether when engaged in action or not, I see naught but the one soul in my enlightened and clear understanding; what then, am I that very self, and is it my own self? (The yogi, when enrapt in holy light, loses the sense of his own personality. So lost in Divine light, the saints themselves forget). 17. Whence comes this error of my personality, why does it grow up and where does it subsist (in the body or in the mind)? It cannot consist in the gross body which knows not itself and is ignorant of everything. Surely I am not this body, and my egoism lies beyond my corporeality. 18. The error then rises in the mind and grows from boyhood to old age, to think one's self as lean or fat as if he were the very body. Again it is usual to say I act, I see &c., as if the personality of one consists in his action; but the acts of the bodily organs, being related with the body, are as insensible and impersonal as the dull body itself. 19. The part is not different from the whole, nor is the product of the one otherwise than that of the others. (As the branch and the tree are the same thing, and the fruit of the one the same as that of the other. Hence the actions of both the outward and inward organs of the body, are as passive and impersonal as the body itself). 20. The mind moves the body as the bat drives the ball, and therefore it must be dull matter also, being apart of the material body, and differing from it in its power of volition only. (The mind is called the _antah-karana_ or an inward organ of the material body, and also material in its nature). 21. The determination of the mind impels the organs to their several actions, as the sling sends the pebble in any direction; and this firmness of resolution is no doubt a property of matter. (Like the solidity of current). 22. The egoism which leads the body forward in its action, is like the channel that carries the current of a stream in its onward course. This egoism also has no essence of its own and is therefore as inert and inactive as a dead body. (The ego [Sanskrit: aham] is subjective and really existent in Western philosophy). But egoism or egotism [Sanskrit: ahamkára] is the false conception of the mind as the true ego. 23. The living principle (Jíva or zoa) is a false idea, as the phantom of a ghost; the living soul is one principle of intelligence and resides in the form of air in the heart. (That life is a produce of organism, acted by external physical stimuli). 24. The life or living principle lives by another inner power, which is finer and more subtile than itself, and it is by means of this internal witness (the soul), that all things are known to us, and not by means of this gross animal life. (Because there is a brute life, and a vegetable life also, which are as insensible as dull matter. Hence there is a distinct principle to direct vitality to all vital functions). 25. The living soul lives in its form of vitality, by the primordial power of the intellect, the vital soul which is misunderstood as an intelligent principle, subsists by means of this intellectual power. (Life is the tension of the power, imparted by the intellect). 26. The living soul carries with it the power, which is infused in it by the intellect; as the wind wafts in its course the fragrance of flowers, and the channel carries the current of the stream to a great distance. (Hence life also is an organism and no independent active power by itself). 27. The heart which is the body or seat of the intellect, is nothing essential by itself; it is called _chitta_ or centre for concentrating _chayana_ of the powers of the intellect, and also the _hrid_ or heart, for its bearing _harana_ of these powers to the other parts of the body; and therefore it is a dull material substance. (The heart is the receiver and distributor of force to the members of the body, and therefore a mere organism of itself). 28. All these and the living soul also, and anything that appears real or unreal, disappear in the meditation of the intellect, and are lost in it as the fire when it is immerged in water. (So the appearances at a ghata or pot and that of a _pata_ or cloth, are lost in their substances of the clay and thread). 29. It is our intelligence _Chaitanya_ alone, that awakens us to the knowledge of the unreality and inanity of gross material bodies. With such reflections as these, Chúdálá thought only how to gain a knowledge of the all-enlightening Intellect. 30. Long did she cogitate and ponder in this manner in herself; till at last she came to know what she sought and then exclaimed, "O! I have after long known the imperishable one, that is only to be known". (The knowledge of all things else, is as false as they are false in themselves). 31. No one is disappointed in knowing the knowable, and what is worth knowing; and this is the knowledge of the intellectual soul and our contemplation of it. All other knowledge of the mind, understanding and the senses and all other things, are but leading steps to that ultimate end. (The end of learning is to know God, Milton, or: nosce te ipsum; know thyself which is of the supreme self or soul). 32. All things besides are mere nullities, as a second moon in the sky; there is only one Intellect in existence, and this is called the great entity or the _ens entium_ or the sum total of all existence. 33. The one purely immaculate and holy, without an equal or personality of the form of pure intelligence, the sole existence and felicity and everlasting without decay. 34. This intellectual power is ever pure and bright, always on the zenith without its rise or fall, and is known among mankind under the appellations of Brahma--supreme soul, and other attributes. (Because beyond conception can have no designation beside what is attributed to Him). 35. The triple appellations of the Intellect, Intelligence, and Intelligible, are not exactly definitive of His nature; because He is the cause of these faculties, and witness of the functions of Intellections. 36. This unthinkable intellect which is in me, is the exact and undecaying ectype of the supreme intellect; and evolves itself in the different forms of the mind, and the senses of perception. 37. The intellect involves in itself the various forms of things in the world, as the sea rolls and unrolls the waves in its bosom. (The intellect either means the Divine intellect, or it is the subjective view of the intellect, as evolving the objective world from itself). 38. This world is verily the semblance of that great intellect, which is like the pure crystal stone and is manifest in this form. (The world reflects the image of the intellect, which again reflects the image of the mundane world, the one in the form of its visible appearance _múrta_; and the other, in its invisible form _amúrta_. Gloss). 39. The same power is manifest in the form of the world, which has no separate existence except in the mind of the ignorant; because it is impossible for any other thing to exist except the self-existing one. 40. As it is the gold which represents the various forms of jewels, so the intellect represents everything in the world as it sees in itself. (The Divine is the source and store house of all figures and forms). 41. As it is the thought of fluidity in the mind, that causes us to perceive the wave in the water, whether it really exists or not (as in our dream or magic); so is the thought in the Divine mind, which shows the picture of the world, whether it is in being or in not _esse_. 42. And as the divine soul appears as the wave of the sea, from its thought of fluidity; so am I the same intellect without any personality of myself. (Because the one impersonal soul pervades everywhere). 43. This soul has neither its birth nor death, nor has it a good or bad future state (Heaven or Hell); it has no destruction at any time; because it is of the form of the various intellect, which is indestructible in its nature. 44. It is not to be broken or burnt (_i.e._ though every where, yet it is an entire whole, and though full of light; yet it is not inflammable); and it is the unclouded luminary of the intellect. By meditating on the soul in this manner, I am quite at rest and peace. 45. I live free from error and rest as calm as the untroubled ocean; and meditate on the invisible one, who is quite clear to me, as the unborn, undecaying and infinite soul of all. 46. It is the vacuous soul, unrestricted by time or place, immaculate by any figure or form, eternal and transcending our thought and knowledge. It is the infinite void, and all attempts to grasp it, are as vain as to grasp the empty air in the hand. 47. This soul pervades equally over all the Sura as well as the Asura races of the earth; but is none of those artificial forms, in which the people represent it in their images of clay, likening the dolls of children. 48. The essences of both the viewer and the view (_i.e._ of both the subjective and the objective), reside at once in the unity of the intellect; though men are apt to make the distinctions of unity and duality, and of the ego and _non ego_ through their error only. 49. But what error or delusion is there, and how, when and whence can it overtake me, when I have attained my truly spiritual and immortal form, and seated in my easy and quiet state. (This is calmness of the soul attending the thought of one's immortality begun in this life). 50. I am absorbed and extinct in eternity, and all my cares are extinct with my own extinction in it. My soul is in its entranced state between sensibility and insensibility, and feels what is reflected upon it. (_i.e._ the inspiration which is communicated to the ravished soul). 51. The soul settled in the great intellect of God, and shining with the light of the supreme soul, as the sky is illumed by the luminary of the day. There is no thought of this or that or even of one's self or that of any other being or not being; all is calm and quiet and having no object in view, except the one transcendent spirit. 52. With these excogitations, she remained as calm and quiet as a white cloudy spot in the autumnal sky; her soul was awake to the inspiration of Divine truth, but her mind was cold to the feelings of love and fear, of pride and pleasure, and quite insusceptible of delusion. CHAPTER LXXIX. PRINCESS COMING TO THE SIGHT OF THE SUPREME SOUL. Argument:--The prince's wonder of the sight of the princess, and her relation of her Abstract meditation. Vasishtha continued:--Thus did the princess live day by day in the rapture of her soul; and with her views concentrated within herself, she lived as in her own and proper element. 2. She had no passion nor affection, nor any discord nor desire in her heart; she neither coveted nor hated anything, and was indifferent to all; but persistent in her course, and vigilant in her pursuit (after her self perfection). 3. She had got over the wide gulf of the world, and freed herself from the entangling snare of doubts (and the horns of dilemmas); she had gained the great good of knowing the supreme soul, which filled her inward soul. 4. She found her rest in God after her weariness of the world, and in her state of perfect bliss and felicity; and her name sounded in the lips of all men, as the model of incomparable perfection. 5. Thus this lady--the princess Chúdálá, became in a short time, acquainted with the true God (lit. knowing the knowable one), by the earnestness of her inquiry. 6. The errors of the world subside in the same manner, under the knowledge of truth, as they rise in the human mind by its addictedness to worldliness. (The world is an abode of errors and illusion. Persian Proverb). 7. After she had found her repose in that state of perfect blessedness, wherein the sight of all things is lost in its dazzling blaze, she appeared as bright as a fragment of autumnal cloud, that is ever steady in its place. 8. Apart from and irrelated with all, she continued in the meditation of the spirit in her own spirit, as the aged bull remained careless on the mountain top, where he happened to find a verdant meadow for his pasture. 9. By her constant habit of loneliness, and the elevation of her soul in her solitude, she became as fresh as the new grown plant, with her blooming face shining as the new blown flower. 10. It happened to pass at one time, that the prince Sikhidhwaja came in sight of the unblamable beauty, and being struck with wonder at seeing her unusual gracefulness of her person, he addressed her saying:-- 11. How is it, my dear one, that you are again your youthful bloom like the flowery plant of the vernal season; you appear more brilliant than the lightsome world under the bright beams of full moon. 12. You shine more brightly, my beloved, than one drinking the ambrosia or elixir of life, and as one obtaining the object of her desire, and filled with perfect delight in herself. 13. You seem quite satisfied and lovely with your graceful person, and surpass the bright moon in the beauty of thy body; methinks you are approaching to me as when the Goddess of love or _Laxmí_ draws near her favourite Káma. 14. I see thy mind disdaining all enjoyments and is parsimonious of its pleasures; it is tranquil and cool, and elated with spiritual ardour, and is as deep as it is tranquil in its nature. 15. I see thy mind spurning the three worlds as if they were straws before it, and tasted all their sweets to its full satisfaction; it is above the endless broils of the world, and is quite charming in itself. 16. O fortunate princess, there are no such gratifications in the enjoyment of earthly possessions, which may equal the spiritual joy of thy tranquil mind. The one is as dry as the dryness of the sandy desert, compared with the refreshing water of the milky ocean. 17. Being born with thy tender limbs resembling the tendrils of young plantains, and the soft shoots of lotus stalks, thou seemest now to have grown strong and stout in thy frame of body and mind. (It is the spirit and spiritual power that strengthens both the body and mind). 18. With the same features and figure of thy body as before, thou hast became as another being, like a plant growing up to a tree, under the influence of the revolving seasons. 19. Tell me, whether thou hast drunk the ambrosial draught of the Gods, or obtained thy sovereignty over an empire; or whether thou hast gained thy immorality by drinking the elixir of life, or by means of thy practice of yoga meditation in either of its forms of _Hatha_ or _Rája yoga_. 20. Hast thou got a Kingdom or found out the philosopher's stone (which converts everything to gold); hast thou gained aught that is more precious than the three worlds, or that thou hast obtained, O my blue eyed lady! something that is not attainable to mankind. 21. Chúdálá responded:--I have not lost my former form, nor am I changed to a new one to come before thee at present; but am as ever thy fortunate lady and wife. (There is a far fetched meaning of this passage given in the gloss). 22. I have forsaken all that is untrue and unreal, and have laid hold of what is true and real; and it is thus that I remain thy fortunate consort as ever before. 23. I have come to know whatever is something, as also all that which is nothing at all; and how all these nothings come to appearance, and ultimately disappear into nothing, and it is thus that I remain thy fortunate lady as ever. 24. I am as content with my enjoyments as I am without them, as also with those that are long past and gone away; I am never delighted nor irritated at anything whether good or bad, but preserve my equanimity at all events and thus I remain for ever thy fortunate consort. 25. I delight only in one vacuous entity, that has taken possession of my heart, and I take no pleasure in the royal gardens and sports, and thence I am thy fortunate princess as ever. 26. I rely constantly in myself (or soul) only, whether when sitting on my seat or walking about in the royal gardens or palaces; I am not fond of enjoyments nor ashamed at their want, and in this manner I continue thy fortunate wife as ever. 27. I think myself as the sovereign of the world, and having no form of my own; thus I am delighted in myself, and appear as thy fortunate and beauteous lady. 28. I am this and not this likewise, I am the reality yet nothing real of any kind; I am the ego and no ego myself, I am the all and nothing in particular, and thus I remain your charming lady. 29. I neither wish for pleasure nor fear any pain, I covet no riches nor hail poverty; I am constant with what I get (knowing my god is the great giver of all), and hence I seem so very gladsome to thee. 30. I disport in the company of my associates, who have governed their passions by the light of knowledge, and by the directions of the sástras, and therefore I seem so very pleasing to thee. 31. I know, my lord, that all that I see by the light of my eyes, or perceive by my senses, or conceive in my mind, to be nothing in reality; I therefore see something within myself, which is beyond the perception of the sensible organs, and the conception of the mind; and this bright vision of the spirit, hath made me appear so very brightsome to thy sight. CHAPTER LXXX. DISPLAY OF THE QUINTUPLE ELEMENTS. Argument:--Description of the five siddhis or modes of consummation. Vasishtha related:--Hearing these words of the beauteous lady, her husband had not the wit to dive into the meaning of what she said, or to understand what she meant by her reliance in the soul, but jestingly told to her. 2. Sikhidhwaja said:--How incongruous is thy speech, and how unbecoming it is to thy age, that being but a girl you speak of great things, go on indulging your regal pleasures and sports as you do in your royal state. 3. Leaving all things you live in the meditation of a nothing (_i.e._ leaving all formal worship, you adore a formless Deity); and if you have all what is real to sense, how is it possible for you to be so graceful with an unreal nothing? (Nothing is nothing, and can effect nothing). 4. Whoso abandons the enjoyments of life, by saying he can do without them; is like an angry man refraining from his food and rest for a while, and then weakens himself in his hunger and restlessness, and can never retain the gracefulness of his person. 5. He who abstains from pleasures and enjoyments, and subsists upon empty air, is as a ghost devoid of a material form and figure, and lives a bodiless shadow in the sky. 6. He that abandons his food and raiment, his bedstead and sleep, and all things besides; and remains devoutly reclined in one soul only, cannot possibly preserve the calmness of his person. (The yogis are emaciated in their bodies, and never look so fresh and plump as the princess). 7. That I am not the body nor bodiless, that I am nothing yet everything; are words so contradictory, that they bespeak no sane understanding. 8. Again the saying, that I do not see what I see, but see something that is quite unseen; is so very inconsistent in itself, that it indicates no sanity of the mind. 9. From these I find thee an ignorant and unsteady lass still, and my frolicsome playmate as before; it is by way of jest that I speak so to you, as you jestingly said these things to me. 10. The prince finished his speech with a loud laughter, and finding it was the noon time of going to bath, he rose up and left the apartment of his lady. 11. At this the princess thought with regret in herself and said, O fie! that the prince has quite misunderstood my meaning, and has not understood what I meant to say by my rest in the spirit, she then turned to her usual duties of the day. 12. Since then the happy princess continued in her silent meditation in her retired seclusion, but passed her time in the company of the prince in the enjoyments of their royal sports and amusements. 13. It came to pass one day, that the self-satisfied princess pondered in her mind, upon the method of flying in the air; and though she was void of every desire in her heart, wished to soar into the sky on an aerial journey. 14. She then retired to a secluded spot, and there continued to contemplate about her aerial journey by abstaining from her food, and shunning the society of her comrades and companions. (During the absence of the prince from home. Gloss). 15. She sat alone in her retirement keeping her body steadily on her seat, and restraining her upheaving breath in the midst of her eye-brows (this is called the Khecharí mudrá or the posture of aerial journey). 16. Ráma asked:--All motions of bodies in this world whether of moving or unmoving things, are seen to take place by means of the action of their bodies and the impulse of their breathing; how is it possible then to rise upwards by restraint of both of them at once? 17. Tell me sir; by what exercise of breathing or the force of oscillation, one attempts the power of volitation; and in consequence of which he is enabled to make his aerial journey (as an aeronaut). 18. Tell me how the adept in spirituality or _yoga_ philosophy, succeeds to attend his consummation in this respect, and what processes he resorts to obtain this end of his arduous practice. 19. Vasishtha replied:--There are three ways, Ráma, of attaining the end of one's object, namely; the _upádeya_ or effort for obtaining the object of pursuit; second, _heya_ or disdain or detestation of the thing sought for; and the third is _upeksha_ or indifference to the object of desire. (These technical terms answer the words positive, negative and neutrality in western terminology, all which answer the same end; such as the having, not having of and unconcernedness about a thing, are attended with the same result of rest and content to everybody). 20. The first or attainment of the desirable _upádeya_, is secured by employing the means for its success, the second heya or detestation hates and slights the thing altogether; and the third or indifference is the intermediate way between the two (in which one is equally pleased with its gain or loss. It is a curious _dogma_, that the positive, negative and the intermediate tend all to the same end). 21. Whatever is pleasable is sought after by all good people, and anything that is contrary to this (_i.e._ painful), is avoided by every one; and the intermediate one is neither sought nor shunned by any body. (Pleasure is either immediate or mediate, as also that which keeps or wards off pain at present or in future). 22. But no sooner doth the intelligent, learned devotee, come to the knowledge of his soul and become spiritualized in himself, than all these three states vanished from his sight, and he feels them all the same to him. 23. As he comes to see these worlds full with the presence of God, and his intellect takes its delight in this thought, he then remains in the midmost state of indifference or loses sight of that also. 24. All wise men remain in the course of neutrality (knowing that an eternal fate overrules all human endeavours), which the ignorant are in eager pursuit of their objects in vain, but the dispassionate and recluse shun every thing (finding the same satisfaction in having of a thing as in its want). Hear me now tell you the ways to consummation. 25. All success is obtained in course of proper time, place, action and its instruments (called the quadruple instrumentalities to success); and this gladdens the hearts of a person, as the vernal season renovates the earth. 26. Among these four, preference is given to actions, because it is of highest importance in the bringing about of consummation. (The place of success _siddhi_ is a holy spot, its time--a happy conjunction of planets and events, action is the intensity of practice, and its instruments are yoga, yantra, tantra, mantra, japa &c.). 27. There are many instruments of aerostation, such as the use of Gutika pills, application of collyrium, the wielding of sword and the like; but all these are attended with many evils, which are prejudicial to holiness. 28. There are some gems and drugs, as also some mantras or mystic syllables, and likewise some charms and formulas prescribed for this purpose; but these being fully explained, will be found prejudicial to holy _yoga_. (These magical practices and artifices are violations of the rules of righteousness). 29. The mount Meru and Himálaya, and some sacred spots and holy places, are mentioned as the seats of divine inspiration; but a full description of them, will tend to the violation of holy meditation or yoga. (Because all these places are full of false yogis, who practice many fulsome arts for their gain). 30. Therefore hear me now relate unto you, something regarding the practice of restraining the breath, which is attended with its consequence of consummation; and is related with the narrative of Sikhidhwaja, and is the subject of the present discourse. (Here Vasishtha treats of the efficacy of the regulation of breath towards the attaining of consummation for satisfaction of Ráma, in disregard of false and artificial practices). 31. It is by driving away all desires from the heart, beside the only object in view, and by contracting all the orifices of the body; as also by keeping the stature, the head and neck erect, that one should attend the practices enjoined by the yoga sástra (namely: fixing the sight on the top of the nose and concentrating it between the eye-brows and the like). 32. Moreover it is by the habit of taking pure food and sitting on clean seats, that one should ponder into the deep sense and sayings of the sástras, and continue in the course of good manners and right conduct in the society of the virtues, by refraining from worldliness and all earthly connections. 33. It is also by refraining from anger and avarice, and abstaining from improper food and enjoyments, that one must be accustomed to constrain his breathings in the course of a long time. 34. The wise man that knows the truth, and has his command over his triple breathings of inspiration, expiration and retention (púraka, rechaka and kumbhaka), has all his actions under his control, as a master has all his servants under his complete subjection. (because breath is life, and the life has command over all the bodily actions, as well as mental operations of a person). 35. Know Ráma, that all the well being of a man being under the command of his vital breath; it is equally possible for every one, both to gain his sovereignty on earth, as also to secure his liberation for the future by means of his breath. (So says the proverb, "as long as there is breath, there every hope with it" [Sanskrit: yábat shusah tábat áshah] So in Hindi:--_jan hai to Jehan hai_ _i.e._ the life is all in all &c. So it is said in regard to the _kumbhaka_ or retentive breath, "repress your breath and you repress all," because every action is done by the repression of the breath). 36. The breath circulates through the inner lung of the breast, which encircles the entrails (antra) of the whole inner frame; it supplies all the arteries with life, and is joined to by all the intestines in the body as if they to that common channel. 37. There is the curved artery resembling the disc at the top of lute, and the eddy of waters in the sea; it likens the curved half of the letter _Om_, and is situated as a cypher or circlet in the base or lower most gland. (It is called the kundaliní or kula kundaliní nárhí in the original). 38. It is deep seated at the base of the bodies of the Gods and demi Gods, of men and beasts, of fishes and fowls, of insects and worms, and of all aquatic molluscs and animals at large. 39. It continues curved and curbed in the form of a folded snake in winter, until it unfolds its twisted form under the summer heat (or the intestinal heat of its hunger _Jatharágní_), and lifts its hood likening the disk of the moon. (The moon in the yoga sástra, means the loti-form gland under the upper most crown of the head). 40. It extends from the lower base, and passing through the cavity of the heart, touches the holes between the eye brows; and remains in its continued vibration by the wind of the breath. 41. In the midst of that curvilineal artery (kundaliní nárhí), there dwells a mighty power like the pith within the soft cell of the plantain tree, which is continually vibrating, like thrilling wires of the Indian lute (or as the pendulum of a machine). 42. This is called the curvilineal artery (kundaliní) on account of its curviform shape, and the power residing in it is that prime mobile force, which sets to motion all the parts and powers of the animal body. 43. It is incessantly breathing like hissing of an infuriate snake and with its open mouths, it keeps continually blowing upwards, in order to give force to all the organs. 44. When the vital breath enters into the heart, and is drawn in by the curved _Kundaliní_; it then produces the consciousness of the mind, which is the ground of the seeds of all its faculties. 45. As the _Kundaliní_ thrills in the body, in the manner of a bee fluttering over a flower; so doth our consciousness throb in the mind, and has the perception of the nice and delicate sensations. (Such as the lungs and arteries receive the crude food and drink; so doth our consciousness perceive their various tastes and flavour). 46. The _Kundaliní_ artery stirs as quickly to grasp its gross objects, as our consciousness is roused at the perception of the object of the finer senses of sight &c. These come in contact with one another, as an instrument lays hold of some material. 47. All the veins in the body are connected with this grand artery, and flow together like so many cellular vessels into the cavity of the heart, where they rise and fall like rivers in the sea. (It shows the concentration of blood in the heart by all the veins and arteries, and its distribution to them in perpetual succession, to have been long known to the sages of India, before its discovery by Harvey in Europe). 48. From the continued rise and fall (or heaving and sinking) of this artery, it is said to be the common root or source of all the sensations and perceptions in the consciousness. (It rises and falls with the inhaling and exhaling breaths up to the pericranium and thence down to the fundament). 49. Ráma regained:--How is it sir, that our consciousness coming from the infinite intellect at all times and places, is confined like a minute particle of matter, in the cellular vessel of the curved _Kundaliní_ artery, and there it rises and falls by turns. 50. Vasishtha replied:--It is true, O sinless Ráma, that consciousness is the property of the infinite intellect, and is always present in all places and things with the all pervading intellect; yet it is sometimes compressed in the form of a minute atom of matter in material and finite bodies. 51. The consciousness of the infinite intellect, is of course as infinite as infinity itself; but being confined in corporeal bodies, it is fused as a fluid to diffuse over a small space. So the sunshine that lightens the universe, appears to flush over a wall or any circumscribed place. (Such as human consciousness, which is but a flush of the Divine omniscience). 52. In some bodies it is altogether lost, as in mineral substances which are unconscious of their own existence; and in others it is fully developed, as in the Gods and human species; while in some it is imperfectly developed, as in the vegetable creation, and in others it appears in its perverted form, as in the inferior animals. So everything is found to have its consciousness in some form or other. 53. Hear me moreover to explain you, the manner in which consciousness (or other), appears in its various forms and degrees, in the different bodies of animated beings. 54. As all cavities and empty spaces are comprised under the term air, so are all intelligent as well as unintelligent beings comprehended under the general category of the one ever existent intellect, which pervades all things in the manner of vacuum. (Here is another proof of the vacuistic theory of the theosophy of Vasishtha). 55. The same undecaying and unchanging entity of the intellect, is situated some where in the manner of pure consciousness, and elsewhere in the form of the subtile form of the quintuple elements. (_i.e._ As the simple soul and the gross body or the mundane soul. So says Pope: Whose body nature is, and God the soul). 56. This quintuple element of consciousness is reduplicate into many other quintuples, as a great many lamps are lighted from one lamp; these are the five vital airs, the mind and its five fold faculties of the understanding; the five internal and the five external senses and their five fold organs, together with the five elementary bodies; and all having the principles of their growth, rise and decay, as also their states of waking, dreaming and sleeping ingrained in them. 57. All these quintuples abide in the different bodies of the Gods and mortals, according to their respective natures and inclinations (which are the causes of their past and present and future lives in different forms). 58. Some taking the forms of places, and others of the things situated in them; while some take the forms of minerals, and others of the animals dwelling on earth. 59. Thus is this world the production of the action of the said quintuples, having the principle of intellectual consciousness, presiding over the whole and every part of it. 60. It is the union of these quintuples in gross bodies, that gives them their intelligence; hence we see the mobility of some dull material bodies, as also the immobility of others (as of mineral and vegetable creations). 61. As the wave of the sea is seen to roll in one place, and to be dull and at a lull in another; so is this intellectual power in full force in some bodies, and quite quiescent in others. 62. As the sea is calm and still in one place, and quite boisterous in another; so is the quintuple body either in motion or at rest in different places. (Hence rest and motion are properties of gross bodies and not of the intellectual soul, which is ever quiescent). 63. The quintuple body is mobile by means of the vital airs, and the vital life (_jíva_) is intelligent by cause of its intelligence; the rocks are devoid of both, but the trees have their sensibility by reason of their being moved by the breath of winds; and such is the nature of the triple creation of animals, minerals and vegetables. 64. Different words are used to denote the different natures of things (or else the same word is used for things of the same kind); thus fire is the general name for heat, and frost is that of coldness in general. 65. (Or if it is not the difference in the disposition of the quintuple elements in bodies, that causes the difference in their natures and names). It is the difference in the desires of the mind, which by being matured in time, dispose the quintuple elements in the forms of their liking. 66. The various desires of the mind, that run in their divers directions, are capable of being collected together by the sapient, and employed in the way of their best advantage and well being. 67. The desires of men tending either to their good or evil, are capable of being roused or suppressed, and employed to their purposes by turns. (The changeful desires always run in their several courses). 68. Man must direct his desires to that way, which promises him the objects of his desires; or else it will be as fruitless, as his throwing the dust at the face of the sky. 69. The great mountains are but heaps of the pentuples, hanging on the tender and slender blade of consciousness, and these moving and unmoving bodies, appear as worms on the tree of knowledge (_i.e._ before the intelligent mind). 70. There are some beings with their desires lying dormant in them, as the unmoving vegetable and mineral productions of the earth; while there are others with their ever wakeful desires, as the _deities_, _daityas_ and _men_. 71. Some are cloyed with their desires, as the worms and insects in the dirt; and others are devoid of their desires as the emancipate yogis, and the heirs of salvation. 72. Now every man is conscious in himself of his having the mind and understanding, and being joined with his hands, feet and other members of his body, formed by the assemblage of the quintuple materials. 73. The inferior animals have other senses, with other members of their bodies; and so the immoveables also have some kind of sensibility, with other sorts of their organs. (The members of brute bodies are, the four feet, horns and tails of quadrupeds; the birds are biped and have their feathers, bills and their tails also; the snakes have their hoods and tails; the worms have their teeth, and the insects their stings &c. And all these they have agreeably to the peculiar desire of their particular natures. Gloss). 74. Thus my good Ráma! do these quintuple elements, display themselves in these different forms in the beginning, middle and end of all sensible and insensible and moving and unmoving beings. 75. The slightest desire of any of these, be it as minute as an atom, becomes the seed of aerial trees producing the fruits of future births in the forms of the desired objects. (Every one's desire is the root of his future fate). 76. The organs of sense are the flowers of this tree (of the body), and the sensations of their objects are as the fragrance of those flowers, our wishes are as the bees fluttering about the pistils and filaments of our fickle efforts and exertions. 77. The clear heavens are the hairy tufts, resting on the stalks of the lofty mountains; its leaves are the cerulean clouds of the sky, and the ten sides of the firmament, are as the straggling creepers stretching all about it. 78. All beings now in being, and those coming into existence in future, are innumerable in their number, and are as the fruits of this tree, growing and blooming and falling off by turns. 79. The five seeds of these trees, grow and perish of their own nature and spontaneity, also perish of themselves in their proper time. 80. They become many from their sameness, and come to exhaust their powers after long inertness; and then subside to rest of their own accord like the heaving waves of the ocean. 81. On one side, there swelling as huge surges, and on the other sinking low below the deep, excited by the heat of the dullness on the one hand, and hushed by the coolness of reason on the other (like the puffing and bursting of the waves in the sea). 82. These multitudes of bodies, that are the toys or play things of the quintuple essences, are destined to remain and rove for ever in this world, unless they come under the dominion of reason, and are freed from further transmigration. CHAPTER LXXXI. INQUIRY INTO _AGNI_, _SOMA_ OR FIRE AND MOON Argument:--Investigation into the Kundaliní artery, as the source of consummation. Vasishtha continued:--The seeds of these pentuples are contained in the inside of the great artery, and are expanding every moment by the vibration of the vital breath in the beings. 2. The vibration of the Kundaliní being stopped, it roused the intellect by its touch, and the rising of the intellect is attended with rising of the intellectual powers as follows. 3. This intellect is the living principle from its vitality, and the mind from its mental powers; it is the volitive principle from its volition, and is called the understanding, from its understanding of all things. 4. It becomes egoism with its octuple properties called the _puryashtakas_, and remains as the principle of vitality in the body in the form of the Kundaliní artery. (The gloss gives no explanation of the psychological truths). 5. The intellect abides in _Kundaliní_ entrails in the form of triple winds. Being deposited in the bowels and passing downwards, it takes the name of the apána wind; moving about the abdomen it is called the samána wind; and when seated in the chest it rises upwards, it is known by the name of the _udána_ wind. 6. The apána wind passing downward evacuates the bowels, but the samána wind of the abdominal part serves to sustain the body; and the udána rising upward and being let out, inflates and invigorates the frame. 7. If after all your efforts, you are unable to repress the passing off of the downward wind; then the person is sure to meet his death, by the forcible and irrepressible egress of the _apána_ wind (this irrepressible egress is called _abishtambhá_). (The translator regrets for his inability to give the English terminology of these psychological words in the original). 8. And when one with all his attempts, is unable to suppress his rising breath of life; but it forces of his mouth or nostrils, it is sure to be followed by his expiration. 9. If one by his continual attention, can succeed to repress the outward and inward egress of his vital breath, and preserve calm quiet of his disposition, he is sure to have his longevity accompanied with his freedom from all diseases. 10. Know that the decomposure of the smaller arteries, is attended with distempers of the body, but the disturbance of the greater arteries is followed by serious consequences. (There are a hundred great arteries, attached to the main conduit of Kundaliní, besides hundreds of small veins and nerves diverging from them throughout the body. The yogi has the power of stopping the current of his breath and blood into these by his restraint of respiration--pránáyáma). 11. Ráma said:--Tell me, O holy sage! how our health and sickness connected with the organs and arteries of the body (rather than with the blood and humours circulating through them). 12. Vasishtha replied:--Know Ráma, that uneasiness and sickness, are both of them the causes of pain to the body; their healing by medicine is their remedy, which is attended with our pleasure; but the killing of them at once by our liberation (from the sensations of pain and pleasure), is what conduces to our true felicity. (Because both health and sickness are attended with but short lived pleasure and pain, and cannot give us the lasting felicity to our souls). 13. Some times the body is subject both to uneasiness and sickness also, as the causes of one another; sometimes they are both alleviated to give us pleasure, and at others they come upon us by turns to cause our pain only. 14. It is ailing of the body, that we call our sickness, and it is the trouble of the mind that we term our uneasiness. Both of them take their rise from our inordinate desires, and it is our ignorance only of the nature of things, that is the source of both. (Our intemperance and covetousness, which are dispelled by our right knowledge). 15. Without the knowledge of the natures and virtues of things, and the want of the government of our desires and appetites, that the heart string loses its tenuity and even course; and is swollen and hurried on by the impulse of passions and inordinate desires. 16. The exultation at having obtained something, and ardour for having more; equally boil the blood of the heart, and shroud the mind under a shadow of infatuation, as an impervious cloud in the rainy weather. 17. The ever increasing greediness of the mind, and the subjection of the intellect under the dominion of foolhardiness, drives men to distant countries in search of a livelihood. (One's natal land is enough to supply him with a simple living). 18. Again the working at improper seasons (as at night and in rain and heat), and the doing of improper actions; the company of infamous men, and aptitude to wicked habits and practices. 19. The weakness and fulness of the intestines caused by sparing food on the one hand, and its excess on the other, cause the derangement of the humours and the disorder of the constitution. 20. It is by cause of this disordered state of the body, that a great many diseases grow in it, both by reason of the deficit as well as the excess of its humours; as a river becomes foul both in its fulness and low water in the rain and summer heat. 21. As the good or bad proclivities of men, are the results of their actions of prior and present births, so the anxieties and diseases of the present state, are the effects of the good and bad deeds both of this life as also those of the past. 22. I have told you Ráma, about the growth of the diseases and anxieties in the _quintessential_ bodies of men; now hear me tell you the mode of extirpating them from the human constitution. 23. There are two sorts of diseases here common to human nature, namely--the ordinary ones and the essential; the ordinary ones are the occurrences of daily life, and the essential is what is inborn in our nature. (The ordinary cares for supplying our natural wants are of the first sort, and the inbred errors and affections of the mind are of other kind). 24. The ordinary anxieties are removed by the attainments of the objects in want; and the diseases growing out of them, are also removed by the removal of our anxious cares. 25. But the essential infirmities of one's dispositions, being bred in the blood and bone, cannot be removed from the body, without the knowledge of the soul; as the error of the snake in the rope, is removed only by examination of the rope. (So the affection will be found to rise in the mind and not rooted in the soul). 26. The erroneous affections of the mind, being known as the source of the rise of all our anxious cares and maladies; it is enough to put a stop to this main spring in order to prevent their outlets, so the stream that breaks its banks in the rains, carries away the arbours that grew by it in its rapid course. (The fissures of stopping the source, and breaking out of the course, are quite opposed to one another). 27. The non-essential or extrinsical diseases that are derived from without, are capable of being removed by the application of drugs, the spell of mantras and propitiating as well as obviating charms; as also by medicaments and treatments, according to the prescriptions of medical science and the practice of medical men. 28. You will know Ráma, the efficacy of baths and bathing in holy rivers, and are acquainted with the expiatory mantras and prescriptions of experienced practitioners; and as you have learnt the medical Sástras, I have nothing further to direct you in this matter. 29. Ráma rejoined:--But tell me sir, how the intrinsic causes produce the external diseases; and how are they removed by other remedies than those of medicinal drugs, as the muttering of mantra incantations and observance of pious acts and ceremonies. 30. Vasishtha replied:--The mind being disturbed by anxieties the body is disordered also in its functions, as the man that is overtaken by anger, loses the sight of whatever is present before his eyes. 31. He loses sight of the broad way before him, and takes a devious course of his own; and like a stag pierced with arrows, flies from the beaten path and enters himself amidst the thickest. 32. The spirit being troubled, the vital spirits are disturbed and breathe out by fits and snatches; as the waters of a river being disturbed by a body of elephants, rise above its channel and over flow the banks. (Violent passions raging in the breast burst out of and break down their bounds). 33. The vital airs breathing irregularly, derange the lungs and nerves and all the veins and arteries of the body; as the misrule in the government, puts the laws of the realm into disorder. 34. The breathings being irregular, unsettles the whole body; by making the blood vessels quite empty and dry in some parts, and full and stout in others, resembling the empty and full flowing channels of rivers. 35. The want of free breathing is attended both with indigestion and bad digestion of the food, and also evaporation of the chyle and blood that it produces; and these defects in digestion, bring forth a great many maladies in the system. 36. The vital breaths carry the essence of the food we take to the inferior organs, as the currents of a river carry the floating woods down the stream. 37. The crude matter which remains in the intestines, for want of its assimilation into blood, and circulation in the frame by restraint of breathing; turn at the end to be sources of multifarious maladies in the constitution. 38. Thus it is that the perturbed states of the mind and spirit, produce the diseases of the body, and are avoided and removed by want of mental anxiety. Now hear me tell you, how the mantra-exorcism serve to drive away the diseases of the body. 39. As the _karitakí_ fruit (chebule myrobalan) is purgative of its own nature, and purges out the crudities from the bodies; so the headwork into the mysterious meaning of the mantras, removes the crude diseases from the frame. (Such are the mystic letters ya, ra, la, va, in the liquids y, r, l, v), signifying the four elements of earth, water, air and fire; curative of many diseases by reflection on their hidden meaning. 40. I have told you Ráma, that pious acts, holy service, virtuous deeds and religious observances, serve also to drive the diseases from the body; by their purifying the mind from its impurities, as the gold is depurated by the touch stone. 41. The purity of the mind produces a delight in the body; as the rising of the full moon, spreads the gentle moonbeams on earth. (Every good act is attended with a rapture, recompenses the deed; or as the maxim goes "virtue has its own reward"). 42. The vital airs breathe freely from the purity of the mind, and these tending to help the culinary process in the stomach, produce the nutrition of the body, and destroy the germ of its diseases. (The germs of growth and decay and of life and death, are both connate in the nature of all living beings; and the increase of the one, is the cause of the decrease of the other). 43. I have thus far related to you, Ráma! concerning the causes of the rise and fall of the diseases and distempers of the living body, in connection with the subject of the main artery of Kundaliní; now hear me relate to you regarding the main point of one's attainment of consummation or siddhi by mean of his yoga practice. 44. Now know the life of the _puryashtaka_ or octuple human body, to be confined in the Kundaliní artery, as the fragrance of the flower is contained in its inner filament. 45. It is when one fills the channel of this great artery with his inhaling breath, and shuts it at its mouth (called the Kurma opening), and becomes as sedate as a stone; he is then said to have attained his rock like fixity and firmness, and his siddhi or consummation of _garima_ or inflation. 46. Again when the body is thus filled with the inflated air, and the wind confined in the Kundaliní artery, is carried upwards by the vital breath (of respiration), from the base or fundamental tube at the bottom, to the cell of the cranium in the head, it touches the consciousness seated in the brain, and drives away the fatigue of the process. (This is called the ascent of the vital air in its heavenward journey). 47. Thence the wind rises upward as smoke into the air, carrying with it the powers of all the arteries attached to it like creepers clinging to a tree; and then stands as erect as a stick, with its head lifted upwards like the hood of a snake. (The art of mounting in the air, is as the act of jumping and leaping into it). 48. Then this uprising force carries the whole body, filled with wind from its top to toe into the upper sky; as an aerosol floats upon the water, or as air balloon rises in the air. (The early Hindus are thus recorded to have made their aerial journeys by force of the inflated air, instead of the compressed gas smoke of modern discovery). 49. It is thus that the yogis make their aerial excursions, by means of the compression of air in the wind pipes in their bodies; and are as happy (in their descrying the scattered worlds all about), as poor people feel themselves at having the dignity of the king of Gods. (Indra). 50. When the force of the exhaling breath (rechaka prabáha) of the cranial tube, constrains the power of the Kundaliní, to stand at the distance of twelve inches in the out side of the upper valve between eye-brows. 51. And as the same exhaling makes it remain there for a moment by preventing its entering into any other passage, it is at that instant that one comes to see the supernatural beings before his sight. (It is said in phrenology, that fixed attention, farsightedness and supernatural vision, are seated between the eye-brows). 52. Ráma said:--Tell me sir, how we may be able to see the supernatural siddhas, without feeling them by the rays and light of our eye sight, and without having any supernatural organ of perception of our own. 53. Vasishtha replied:--It is true, Ráma, as you say, that the aerial spirit of siddhas, are invisible to earthly mortals with the imperfect organs of their bodies, and without the aid of supernatural organs. 54. It is by means of the clairvoyance obtained by the practice of yoga, that the aerial and beneficent siddhas became visible to us like the appearances in our dreams. 55. The sight of the siddhas is like that of persons in our dream, with this difference only, that the sight of a siddha is fraught with many real benefits and blessings accruing thereby unto the beholder. 56. It is by the practice of posting the exhaled breath, at the distance of twelve inches on the outside of the mouth, that it may be made to enter into the body of another person. (This is the practice of imparting one's spirit into the body of another person, and of enlivening and raising the dead). 57. Ráma said:--But tell me sir, how you maintain the immutability of nature (when everything is seen to be in the course of its incessant change at all times). I know you will not be displeased at this interruption to your discourse, because good preachers are kindly disposed, to solve even the intricate of their hearers. 58. Vasishtha replied:--It is certain that the power known as nature, is manifest in the volition of the spirit, in its acts of the creation and preservation of the world. (Here nature is identified with eternal will of God). 59. Nature being nothing in reality, but the states and powers of things; and these are seen some times to differ from one another, as the autumnal fruits are found to grow in the spring at Assam (these varieties also called their nature). 60. Vasishtha replied:--All this universe is one Brahma or the immensity of God, and all its variety is the unity of the same. (_i.e._ the various modalities of the unvaried one); these different existences and appearances, are only our verbal distinctions for ordinary purposes, and proceeding from our ignorance of the true nature of Brahmá. We know not why these words concerning divine nature, which are irrelevant to the main subject, are introduced in this place. 61. Ráma rejoined:--Tell me sir, how our bodies are thinned as well as thickened, in order to enter into very narrow passages as also to feel and occupy large spaces (by means of the _anima_ and _garima_ yogas, of minimizing the body to an atomic spright and of magnifying it to a stalwart giant). 62. Vasishtha replied:--As the attrition of the wood and saw, causes a split in the midst; and as the friction of two things (as of a flint and stone) produces a fire between them, in the same manner doth the confrication of the inhaling and exhaling breath, divide the two prána and apána gases, and produce the jatharágni in the abdomen. (The prána air is explained elsewhere as passing from the heart through the mouth and nostrils, and the apána as that which passes from the region of the navel to the great toe. The jatharágni is rendered some where as gastric fire). 63. There is a muscle in the abdominal part of these ugly machine of the internal body, which extends as a pair of bellows both above and below the navel, with their mouths joined together and shaking to and fro like a willow moved by the water and air. 64. It is under this bladder that the kundaliní artery rest in her quiescent state; and ties as a string of pears in a casket of the yellow padmariya james. (This place under the navel is called the múládhára, whence the aorta strength upwards and downwards). 65. Here the kundaliní string turns and twirls round like a string beads counted about the finger; and coils also with its reflected head and a hissing sound like the hood of a snake stricken by a stick (it requires too much anatomy to show these operations of the arteries). 66. It thrills in the string of the lotus like heart, as a bee flutters over the honey cup of the lotus flower; and it kindles our knowledge in the body like the luminous sun amidst the earth and sky. (It gives action to the heart string, which arises its cognitive faculties). 67. It is then that the action of the heart, moves all the blood vessels in the body to their several functions; as the breeze of the outer air, shakes the leaves of trees. 68. As the high winds rage in the sky and break down the weaker leaves of the branches of trees, so do the vital airs coil in the body and crush the soft food, that has been taken in the stomach. 69. As the winds of the air batter the lotus leaves, and at last dissolve them into the native element; so the internal winds break down the food like the leaves of trees, and convert the food ingested in the stomach into chyle, blood, flesh, skin, fat, marrow and bones one after another. 70. The internal airs clash against one another the produce of the gastric fire, as the bamboos in the wood produce the living fire by their friction. 71. The body which is naturally cold and cold-blooded, becomes heated in all its parts by this internal heat, as every part of the world becomes warmed by the warmth of the sun. 72. This internal fire which pervades throughout the frame and flutters like golden bees over the loti-form heart, is meditated upon as twinkling stars in the minds of the ascetic yogis. 73. Reflections of these lights are attended with the full blaze of intellectual light, whereby the meditative yogi sees in his heart objects, which are situated at the distance of millions of miles from him. (This is called the consummation of clairvoyance or divyadrishti). 74. This culinary fire being continually fed by the fuel of food, continues to burn in the lake of the lotus-like muscle of the heart, as the submarine fire burns latent in the waters of the seas. 75. But the clear and cold light which is the soul of the body, bears the name of the serene moon; and because it is the product of the other fire of the body, thence called the _sumágni_ or the residence of the moon and fire (its two presiding divinities). 76. All hotter lights in the world are known by the names of suns (as the planetary and cometary bodies); and all colder lights are designated as moons (as the stars and satellites) and as these two lights cherish the world, it is named as the _suryágni_ and _somágni_ also. 77. Know after all the world to be a manifestation of the combination of intelligence and ignorance (_i.e._ of the intellect and soul matter), as also of an admixture of reality and unreality among who has made it as such in himself manifest in this form. 78. The learned call the light of intelligence, by the terms knowledge, sun and fire, and designate the unrealities of ignorance, by the names of dullness and darkness, ignorance and the coldness of the moon. (_i.e._ There are antithetical words expressive of Intelligence and ignorance; the former designated as the light of knowledge and reason, the daylight and the light of lamp &c., and the latter as the darkness of night, and the coldness of frost &c.). 79. Ráma said:--I well understand that the product of the air of breath &c. (by their friction as said before); and that the air proceeds from the moon, but tell me sir, whence comes the moon into existence? 80. Vasishtha replied:--The fire and moon are the mutual causes and effects of one another, as they are mutually productive as well as destructive of each other by turns. 81. Their production is by alternation as that of the seed and its sprout (of which no body knows is the cause or effect of the other). Their reiteration is as the return of day and night, (of which we know not which precedes the other). They last awhile and are lost instantly like the succession of light and shade (the one producing as also destroying the other). 82. When these opposites come to take place at the one and same time, you see them stand side by side as in the case of the light and shade occurring into the daytime, but when they occur at different times, you then see the one only at a time without any trace of the other, as in the occurrence of the daylight and nocturnal gloom by turns. (These two are instances of the simultaneous and separate occurrence of the opposites. Gloss). 83. I have also told you of two kinds of causality; namely, the one in which the cause is co-existent with its effect, and the other wherein the effect comes to appearance after disappearance of its cause or the antecedent. 84. It is called the synchronous causation which is coeval with its effect, as the seed is coexistent with its germ, and the tree is contemporaneous with the produced seed. 85. The other is named the antecedent or preterite cause, which disappears before the appearance of its consequent effect; as the disappearance of the day is the cause of its subsequent night; and the preteriteness of the night, causes the retardation of the following day. (In plain words it is the concurrence and distance of the cause and effect, called the [Sanskrit: samaváyo] and [Sanskrit: amasáváyo kárana] or the united or separate causality in Nyáya-terminology). 86. The former kind of the united cause and effect (called the [Sanskrit: sadrúpa parináma] _i.e._ the presence of both causality and its effectuality); is exemplified in the instance of the doer and the earthen pot, both of which are in existence; and this being evident to sight, requires no example to elucidate it. 87. The kind of the disunited cause and effect (called the [Sanskrit: binásharúpa parináma]) in which the effect is unassociated with its (cause); the succession of day and night to one another, is a sufficient proof of the absence of its antecedent causality. (This serves as an instance of an unknown cause, and hence we infer the existence of a pristine darkness, prior to the birth of day-light [Sanskrit: tame ásít] _teomerant_). 88. The rationalists that deny the causality of an unevident cause, are to be disregarded as fools for ignoring their own convictions, and must be spurned with contempt. (They deny the causality of the day and night to bring one another by their rotation which no sensible being (can ignore). They say [Sanskrit: dinasá rátri nirmmasa katritamsti]) 89. Know Ráma, that an unknown and absent cause is as evident as any present and palpable cause, which is perceptible to the senses; for who can deny the fact, that it is the absence of fire that produces the cold, and which is quite evident to every living body. 90. See Ráma, how the fire ascends upward in the air in form of fumes, which take the shape of clouds in the azure sky, which being transformed afterwards into fire (electricity); becomes the immediate cause of the moon (by its presence [Sanskrit: ájnát kárana]). 91. Again the fire being extinguished by cold, sends its watery particles upwards, and this moisture produces the moon, as the absent or remote cause of the same. ([Sanskrit: mauna kárana]). 92. The submarine fire likewise that falls into the feeding on the foulness of the seven oceans, and swallows their briny waters, disgorges their gases and fumes in the open air, and these flying to the upper sky in the form of clouds, drop down their purified waters in the form of sweet milky fluids in the milky ocean (which gives birth to the milk white moon). (It is said that there is an apparatus in the bosom of the clouds, for purifying the impure waters rising in vapours in the atmosphere from the earth and seas below). 93. The hot sun also devours the frigid ball of the moon or (the moon beams), in the conjunction at the dark fortnight (amávasya), and then ejects her out in their opposition in the bright half of every month, as the stork throws off the tender stalk of the lotus which it has taken. (The sun is represented to feed on, and let out the moon beams by turns in every month). 94. Again the winds that suck up the heat and moisture of the earth in the vernal and hot weather, drop them down as rain water in the rainy season, which serves to renovate the body of exhausted nature. (This passage is explained in many ways from the homonymous word some of which it is composed; and which severally means the moon, the handsome, the _soma_ plant and its juice). 95. The earthly water being carried up by the sun beams, which are called his _karas_ or hands, are converted into the solar rays, which are the immediate cause of fire. (Here the water which is by its nature opposed to fire, becomes the cause of that element also). 96. Here the water becomes fire both by privation of its fluidity and frigidity, which is the remote cause of its formation as also by its acquirement of aridity or dryness and calidity or warmth; which is the immediate of its transformation to the igneous element. (This is an instance of the double or mixed causality of water in the production of fire. Gloss). 97. The fire being absent, there remains the presence of the moon; and the absence of the moon, presents the presence of fire. 98. Again the fire being destroyed, the moon takes its place; in the same manner, as the departure of the day introduces the night in lieu of it. 99. Now in the interval of day and night, and in the interim of daylight and darkness, and in the midst of shade and light, there is a midmost point and a certain figure in it, which is unknown to the learned. (This point which is neither this nor that, nor this thing or any other, is the state of the inscrutable Brahma). 100. That point is no nullity nor an empty vacuity (because it is neither the one or the other). Nor it is a positive entity and the real pivot and connecting link of both sides. It never changes its central place between both extremes of this and that, or the two states of being and not being. 101. It is by means of the two opposite principles of the intelligent soul and inert matter, that all things exist in the universe; in the same manner, as the two contraries of light and darkness bring on the day and night in regular succession. (so the self moving and self shining sun is followed by the dull and dark moon, which moves and shines with her borrowed force and light). 102. As the course of the world commenced with the union of mind and matter, or the mover and the moved from the beginning; so the body of the moon, came to be formed by an admixture of aqueous and nectarious particles in the air. (The body of the moon formed of the frozen waters, were early impregnated with the ambrosial beams of the sun). (This bespeaks of the creation of the solar orb prior to the formation of the satellite of the earth). 103. Know Ráma, the beams of the sun to be composed of fire or igneous particles, and the solar light to be the effulgence of the intellect; and the body of the moon to be but a mass of dull darkness (unless it is lighted by its borrowed light from the sun). (The sun is said to shine with intellectual light, because it disperses the outer gloom of the world, as the other removes the darkness of the mind. Gloss). 104. The sight of the outward sun in the sky, destroys the out spreading darkness of night; but the appearance of the intellectual luminary, dispels the overspreading gloom of the world from the mind. 105. But if you behold your intellect in the form of the cooling moon, it becomes as dull and cold as that satellite itself; just as if you look at a lotus at night, you will not find it to be as blooming as at sunshine (but may be at the danger of contracting lunacy or stupefaction of the intellect by looking long at the cold luminary). 106. Fire in the form of sun light enlightens the moon, in the same manner as the light of the intellect illumes the inner body (lingadeha); our consciousness is as the moonlight of the inner soul, and is the product of the sun beams of our intellect. (So says the Bharata:--As the sun illumes the worlds so doth the intellect enlighten the soul). 107. The intellect has no action, it is therefore without attribute or appellation; it is like light on the lamp of the soul, and is known as any common light from the lantern which shows it to the sight. 108. The avidity of this intellectual after the knowledge of the intelligibles, brings it to the intelligence of the sensible world; but its thirst after the unintelligible one, is attended with the precious gain of its _Kaivalya_ or oneness with the self same one. (Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for spiritual knowledge, for they shall verily be satisfied therewith). 109. The two powers of the fire and moon (agni-soma), are to be known as united with one another in the form of the body and its soul, and their union is expressed in the scriptures as the contact of the light and lighted room with one another, as the reflexion of the sunshine on the wall. (The two powers of igneous and lunar lights are represented in the conjoined bodies of the Agni soma deities). 110. They are also known to be separately of themselves, in different bodies and at different times; such as bodies addicted to dullness, are said to be actuated by the lunar influence; and persons advancing in their spirituality, are said to be led on by force of the solar power. 111. The rising breath (prána) which of its nature hot and warm, is said to be Agni's or igneous; and setting breath of _apána_ which is cold and slow is termed the soma or lunar, they abide as the light and shade in every body, the one rising upward and passing by the mouth, and the other going down by the anus. 112. The apána being cooled gives rise to the fiery hot breath of _prána_, which remains in the body like the reflexion of something in a mirror. 113. The light of the intellect produces the brightness of consciousness, and the sun-beams reflect themselves as lunar orbs; in the dew drops on lotus leaves at early dawn. 114. There was a certain consciousness in the beginning of creation, which with its properties of heat and cold as those of agni and soma; came to be combined together in the formation of human body and mind. 115. Strive Ráma, to settle yourself at that position of the distance of out side the mouth apána, where the sun and moon of the body (_i.e._ the prána and apána breaths) meet in conjunction--amávasya. CHAPTER LXXXII. YOGA INSTRUCTIONS FOR ACQUIREMENT OF THE SUPERNATURAL POWERS OF ANIMA-MINUTENESS &C. Argument:--Means of acquiring the Quadruple Capacities of Anima minima, Mahima-maxima, Laghima-lightness and Garima-heaviness, together with the power of entering into the bodies of others. Vasishtha continued:--Hear me now tell you, how the bodies of yogis are capable of expansion and contraction at will; as to be _multum in parvo_; and _parvum in multo_. 2. There is above the lotus-like diaphragm of the heart, a blazing fire emitting its sparks, like gold coloured butterflies flirting about it, and flaring as flashes of lightning in the evening clouds. (This is the _jatharágni_ or culinary fire). 3. It is fanned and roused by the enkindling animal spirit, which blows over it as with the breath of the wind; it pervades the whole body without burning it, and shines as brightly as the sun in the form of our consciousness. 4. Being then kindled into a blaze in an instant, like the early raise of the rising sun gleaming upon the morning clouds; it melts down the whole body (to its toes and nails), as the burning furnace dissolves the gold in the crucible. (It is impossible to make out anything of this allegory). 5. Being unextinguishable by water, it burns the whole outer body down to the feet; and then it coils inside the body, and remains in the form of the mind in the ativáhika or spiritual body of man. (It is hard to find out the hidden sense of this passage also). 6. Having then reduced the inner body likewise, it becomes lifeless of itself; and becomes extinct as the frost at the blowing of winds (or blast of a tempest). 7. The force of the Kundaliní or intestinal canal, being put out to the fundamental artery of the rectum; remains in the vacuity of the spiritual body, like a shadow of the smoke of fire. 8. This smoky shade parades over the heart like a swarthy maiden, and encloses in her bosom the subtile body composed of its mind and understanding, the living principle and its egoism. 9. It has the power to enter into the porous fibres of lotuses to penetrate the rocks, to stretch over the grass, to pop into houses and stones, to pry in the sky and ply in the ground, and remain and move about everywhere in the manner it likes of its own will. (This power is called sakti or energy which is omnipotent). 10. This power produces consciousness and sensibility, by the sap and serum which it supplies to the whole body; and is itself filled with juice, like a leather bag that is dipped into a well or water. 11. This great artery of Kundaliní being filled with gastric juice, forms the body in any shape it likes; as an artist draws the lines of a picture in any form, as it is pictured in his mind. (Hence it depends on the gastric artery to extend and sketch out the body according to its own plan). 12. It supplies the embryonic seed placed in the foetus of the mother, with the power of its evolution into the fleshy and bony parts of its future body; as the tender sprout of the vegetative seed, waxes in time to a hard woody tree. (The act of evolution is attributed in the text to the triple causality of the physical nutrition in the stomach, the metaphysical cause of the intensity of thought in the growing mind, and the psychological tendency of the soul, produced from the fourth and prime cause of its prior propensity, which is inbred in grain and essential nature of every being, the intense thought is called [Sanskrit: hridaya bhávná]). 13. Know Ráma, this certain truth which is acknowledged by the wise, that the living principles acquire its desired state and stature, be it that of a mountain or bit of straw. (This passage supports the free agency of man to go in either way in opposition to the doctrine of blind fatalism, and the arbitrary power of the Divine will). 14. You have heard, O Ráma! of certain powers as of diminishing and increasing the bulk and stature of the body, attainable by the practice of yoga; you will now hear me give you an interesting lecture, regarding the attainment of these capacities by means of knowledge or _jnána_. (This is the theory or theoretical part of the practice or practical art of yoga). 15. Know for certain that there is but only one intelligent principle of the Intellect, which is inscrutable, pure and most charming; which is minuter than the minutest, perfectly tranquil and is nothing of the mundane world or any of its actions or properties. 16. The same chit--intellect being collected in itself into an individuality (by its power of _chayana_ integration) from the undivided whole, and assuming the power of will or volition--_sankalpa_ itself, becomes the living soul by transformation of its pure nature to an impure one. (This power of integration is said to be a fallacy _adhyása_ or misconception--adhyáropa of human mind, which attributes a certain quality to a thing by mistake or _áropa_ as [Sanskrit: paratra parábabhásah]: or mistaking a thing for another _e. g._ [Sanskrit: shuktau ratrátávadábhásah]: _i.e._ taking the shell for silver from its outward appearance.) 17. The will is a fallacy, and the body is a mistake; (because there is no mutation of volition or personality of the infinite intellect); and the ignorant alone distinguish the living soul from the universal spirit, as the ignorant boy sees the demon in a shadow. (All these are false attributes of the true one). 18. When the lamp of knowledge brings the mind to the full light of truth, then the error of volition is removed from the living soul, as the cloud of the rainy weather are dissipated in Autumn. 19. The body has its rest, after the wishes have subsided in the mind; just as the lamp is extinguished after its oil is exhausted. (Mental anxieties cause the restlessness of the body). 20. The soul that sees the truth, has no more the knowledge of his body; as the man awakened from his sleep, has no longer the apparitions of his dream appearing before him. 21. It is the mistaking of the unreal for the real or what is the same, the ascribing of reality to the unreality that gives the colour of reality to false material bodies; but the knowledge of the truth removes the error of the corporal body, and restore the soul to its wonted splendour and true felicity. 22. But the error of taking the material body for the immaterial soul, is so deep rooted in the mind; that it is as difficult to remove, as it is for the strongest sun beams to perceive the mental gloom of men. 23. This impervious darkness of the mind, is only to be perceived by the sun-shine of knowledge; that our soul is the seat of immaculate and all pervading spirit of God, and that I myself am no other than the pure intellect which is in me. (The _anal Huq_ of Mansur). 24. Those that have known the supreme soul meditate on it in this manner in their own souls, until they find themselves to be assimilated to the same by their extensive thought of it. (Here we have the curious doctrine of strong thought _drirha-bhávaná_ of Vasishtha again which inculcates the possibility of one's being whatever he strongly thinks himself to be. It is allied to the doctrine of the strength of belief--faith and _bhakti_ of others). 25. It is hence, O Ráma! that some men convert the deadly poison to sweet ambrosial food, and change the delicious nectar to bitter gall. (Thus Siva the God and yogi converts the snake poison to his food and the sweets offered to his topmost mouth to the bitterest bane). 26. So whatever is thought upon with intensity in any manner and on any occasion, the same comes to take place as it is seen in many instances. 27. The body when seen in the light of a reality, is found to be a real existence; but being looked upon as an unreality, it vanishes into nothing (or it mixes in the vacuity of Brahma). 28. You have thus heard from me, o righteous Ráma! the theoretical mode (jnána-yukti) of attaining the capacities of magnifying and minimizing one's person at will; I will now tell you of another method of gaining these powers, to which you shall have now to attend. 29. You can practice by exhalation of your _rechaka_ breath, to extract your vital power (life) from the cell of your Kundaliní artery, and infuse it into another body; as the winds of the air, carry the fragrance of flowers into the nostrils. (This is the mode of ones forsaking its own body in order to enliven another). 30. The former body is left lifeless like a log of wood or block of stone, and such is the relation between the body and life; as that of a bucket and its water, which is powered out to enliven the plants. 31. Thus is the life infused in all movable and immovable things, in order to enjoy the pleasures of their particular states at its pleasure. 32. The living soul having relished the bliss of its consummate state, returns to its former body if it is still in existence, or it goes and settles some where else, as it may best suit its taste. 33. The yogis thus pass into all bodies and live with their conscious souls, and fill the world also by magnifying their spirits over all space. 34. The yogi who is lord of himself by his enlightened understanding, and his knowledge of all things beside their accompanying evils; obtains in an instant whatever he wants to have, and which is present before the effulgence of divine light (anávarana Brahma jyoti). CHAPTER LXXXIII. STORY OF THE MISERLY KIRÁTA. Argument:--Perfection of Chúdálá and the imbecility of the Prince; efficacy of instruction and its elucidation in the tale of niggardly Kiráta. Vasishtha continued:--Thus the royal dame was possest of the qualities of contracting and expanding herself to any form, and became so expert in these by their continued practice of them; 2. That she made her aerial journey and navigated at pleasure over the expanse of waters; she moved on the surface of the earth, as the river Ganges glides on in her silent course. 3. She dwelt in the bosom of her lord, as the goddess of prosperity abides in the heart of Hari, and travelled in a moment with her mind over every city and country over the earth. 4. This fairy lady fled in the air, and flashed like the lightning with the flashes of her twinkling eyes; she passed as a shadow over the earth, as a body of clouds passes over a range of mountains. 5. She passed without any hazard through the grass and wood, stones and clods of earth, and through fire and water and air and vacuum, as a thread passes through hole of a heart. (Milton says:--That with no middle flight, to the heaven of heavens I have presented through an earthly quest). 6. She lightly skimmed over the mountain peaks, and pryed through the regions of the regents of all the sides of heaven; she penetrated into the cavities of the empty womb of vacuity, and have a pleasant trip whatever she directed in her flight. (All this is brain action and no reality at all). 7. She conversed freely with all living beings, whether they move or prone on the ground as the beast of earth, or crawl upon it as the snakes and insects. She talked with the savage Pisácha tribes and communicated with men and the immortal Gods and demi-gods also. (The clever princess like the far-seeing seer saw every thing with her mind's eye, and held her converse (vyavahára) with all). 8. She tried much to communicate her knowledge to her ignorant husband, but he was no way capable of receiving her spiritual instruction. (Átmajnána means also her intuitive or self taught knowledge). 9. He understood her as no other than his young princess and the mistress of his house, and skilled only in the arts of coquetry and house wifery (and quite ignorant of higher things because the ladies of India were barred from spiritual knowledge). 10. Until this time the prince had been ignorant of the qualifications of the princess Chúdálá, and knew not that she had made her progress in the spiritual science, as a young student makes his proficiency in the different branches of learning. 11. She also was as reserved to show her consummate learning to her unenlightened husband; as a Brahman declines to show his secret rites to a vile sudra. 12. Ráma said:--If it was impossible, sir, for the seeress of consummate wisdom to communicate her knowledge to her husband Sikhidhwaja, with all her endeavours to enlighten him on the subject; how can it be possible for others, to be conversant in spiritual knowledge in any other means. 13. Vasishtha answered:--Ráma, it is obedience to the rule of attending to the precepts of the preceptor, joined with the intelligence of the pupil, which is the only means of gaining instruction. 14. The hearing of sermon nor the observance of any religious rite, is of any efficacy towards the knowledge of the soul; unless one will employ his own soul, to have the light of the supreme soul shine upon it. It is the spirit alone that can know the spirit, as it is the serpent only that can trace out the path of another serpent. 15. Ráma rejoined:--If such is the course of the world, that we can learn nothing without the instruction of our preceptors; then tell me, O sage! how the precepts of the wise lead to our spiritual knowledge also. 16. Vasishtha replied:--Hear me Ráma, relate to you a tale to this effect. There lived an old Kiráta of yore, who was miserly in his conduct as he was rich in his possessions of wealth and grains. He dwelt with his family by the side of the Vindhyan woods, as a poor Brahman lives apart from his kith and kin. 17. He happened to pass by his native forest at one time, and slip a single _couri_ from his purse, which fell in a grassy furze and was lost under the grass. 18. He ran on every side, and beat at the bush for three days to find out his lost _couri_, and impelled by his niggardliness to leave no fallen leaf unturned over the ground. 19. As he searched and turned about, he ran and turned it ever in his mind, saying:--Ah! this single _couri_ would make four by its commerce, and that would bring me eight in time, and this would make a hundred and a thousand, and more and more by repetition, so I have lost a treasure in this. 20. Thus he counted over and over, over the gains he would gain, and sighed as often at the loss he did sustain; and took into no account of the rustic peasantry on his foolish penury. 21. At the end of the third day he came across a rich jewel, as brilliant as the bright moon in the same forest; which compensated for the loss of his paltry _couri_ by a thousand fold. 22. He returned gladly with his great gain to his homely dwelling, and was highly delighted with the thought of keeping off poverty for ever from his door. (The word _Kerate_ is commonly used for Kiráta--the miser). 23. Now as the Kiráta was quite satisfied, with his unexpected gain of the great treasure, in the search of his trifling _couri_; and passed his days without any care or fear of the changeful world. 24. So the student comes to obtain his spiritual knowledge from his preceptor, while he has been in quest of his temporal learning, which is but a trifle in comparison to his eternal concern. 25. But then, O sinless Ráma! it is not possible to attain to divine knowledge, by the mere lectures of the preceptor; because the lord is beyond the perception of senses, and can neither be expressed by nor known from the words of the instructor's mouth. (It requires one's intuition and spiritual inspiration also to see the spirit in one's own spirit). 26. Again it is not possible to arrive to spiritual knowledge, without the guidance of the spiritual guide; for can one gain the rich gem without his search after the _couri_ like the miserly Kiráta? (This means that it is impossible to attain the esoteric or abstract knowledge of the soul, without a prior acquaintance of the exoteric and concrete). 27. As the search of _couri_ became the cause of or was attended with the gain of the gem, so our attendance on secular instructions of the preceptor, becomes an indirect cause to our acquirement of the invaluable treasure of spiritual knowledge. 28. Ráma, look at this wonderful eventualities of nature, which brings forth events otherwise than the necessary results of our pursuits (as the search of _couri_ resulted the gain of the gem). 29. As it often comes to pass, that our attempts are attended with other result than those which are ought; it is better for us to remain indifferent with regard to the result of our act. CHAPTER LXXXIV. PILGRIMAGE OF PRINCE SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--Sikhidhwaja's abandonment of the world, and remaining as religious Recluse on the Mandara mountain; followed by the visit of the Princess and her admonition to him. Vasishtha related:--The prince Sikhidhwaja continued in utter darkness, without the sight of his spiritual knowledge; and groped his way amidst the gloom of the world, as a childless man passes his woeful days, in utter despair of any glimpse of hope. (As son is the hope of a man both in this world as well as in the next). 2. His heart burned disconsolate in the flame of his anxieties, without the consolation of his salvation; and the great affluence of his fortune, served as full to feed the fire of his hopelessness, for want of the cooling shower of religion. 3. He found his consolation in lonely retreats, in the caves of mountains and beside their falling waters; where he strayed at large, like the beasts of prey flying from the arrows of huntsmen. 4. Ráma, he became as distracted as you had been before; and discharged his daily rituals, at the humble request and repeated solicitations of his attending servants. 5. He was as inexcitable and cold blooded, as a religious recluse; he desisted from the enjoyments of his princely pleasures, and abstained also from his usual food. 6. He gave his homage with large largesses of lands and gifts of gold and kine to the gods, Brahmans and his relatives also. 7. He went on performing the austerities of the religious rites, and the rigorous ceremonies of the chandáryana and others; he travelled through wilds and deserts and inhabited tracts, to his pilgrimages far and near. 8. Yet he found nowhere the consolation of his mind, which he kept seeking all-abouts; as a miner digs the sterile soil in quest of some mineral, where there is no such thing to be found. 9. He was pining away under the ardour of his anxiety, as it were under the fiery heat of the sun; in search of some remedy for his worldly cares, which hunted him incessantly both by day and night. 10. Being absorbed in his thoughts, he sought not for aught of the poisonous pleasures of his realm; and with the meekness of his spirit and mind, he did not look at the grand estate which lay before him. 11. It happened one day, as he was sitting with his beloved princess reclining on his lap; that he spoke to her as follows, in his mellifluent speech. 12. Sikhidhwaja said:--I have long tasted the pleasures of my realm, and enjoyed the sweet and bitter of my large property and landed possessions. I am now grown as weary of them, as they are both the same and stale to me. 13. Know my delighted lady, that the silent sage is exempt from pleasure and pain; and no prosperity nor adversity, can ever betide the lonely hermit of the forest. 14. Neither the fear of the loss of lives in battle, nor the dread of losing the territory in the reverse of victory, can ever betake the lonely hermit of the forest; wherefore I ween his helpless state, to be happier far than the dignity of royalty. 15. The woodland parterres are as pleasing to me, as thyself with the clusters of their blossoms in spring, and with their ruddy leaves resembling thy rosy palms; their twisted filaments are as the fillets of thy curling hairs, and the hoary and flimsy clouds in the air, are as their white and clean vests and raiments. 16. The blooming flowers resemble their ornaments, and their pollen is the scented powder on their persons; and the seats of reddish stones, bear resemblance to the protruberances on their posteriors. 17. The ambient and pearly rills flowing amidst them, resemble the pendant strings of pearls on their necks; and their foaming waves seen as clusters of pearls, tied as the knots of their vestures. The tender creepers are as their playful daughters, and the frisking fawns are as their playsome darlings. 18. Perfumed with the natural fragrance of flowers, and having the swarming bees for their eye-lids and eyebrows; and wearing the flowery garment of flowers, they are offering an abundance of fruits for the food of the passengers. 19. The pure waters of the falling cascades are sweet to taste, and cool the body as thy company gratifies my senses. I foster therefore an equal fondness for these woodland scenes, as I bear for thy company also. 20. But the calm composures which these solitudes seem to afford to the soul, are in my estimation far superior to the delight, that I derive from the cooling moon light, and the bliss that I might enjoy in the paradise of India and in the heaven of Brahmá himself. 21. Now my dear one, you ought to put no obstacle to these designs of mine; because no faithful wife ever presents any obstructions to the desire of her lord. 22. Chúdálá replied:--The work done in its proper time, is commendable as seasonable and not that which is unseasonable or intempestive; it is as delightful to see the blossoming of flowers in the vernal season, as it is pleasant to find the ripened fruits and grains in autumn. 23. It is for the old and decrepit and those broken down in their bodies by age, to resort in their retirement in the woods; and does not befit a young man as yourself to fly from the world, wherefore I do not approve your choice. (So says the poet, "O that my weary age may find a peaceful hermitage"). 24. Let us remain at home, O young prince, so long as we have not passed our youth, and flourish here as flowers which do not forsake the parent tree, until the flowering time is over. 25. Let us like flowery creepers grow hoary with grey hairs on our heads, and then get out together from our home; as a pair of fond herons fly from the dried lake for ever. 26. Mind also my noble lord, the great sin that awaits on the person of that disgraceful prince of the royal race, who forsakes to seek after the welfare of his people during the time of his rule and reign. (Abdication of the crown was not allowable without an apparent heir). 27. More over mind the opposition you will have to meet with from your subjects, who are authorized to check your unseasonable and unworthy act, as you are empowered to put a check to theirs. (The Hindu law is opposed to the spirit of despotism and lawlessness of the ruling power). 28. Sikhidhwaja rejoined:--Know my royal dame, that thy application is all in vain to my determination of going away from here; and know me as already gone from thee and thy realm to the retreat woods afar from hence. 29. Thou art young and handsome, and aught not accompany me to dreary deserts and forests; which are in many respects dreadful to and impassable by men. 30. Women however hardy they may be, are never able to endure the hardships of forest life; as it is impossible for the tender tendril to withstand the stroke of the felling axe. 31. Do thou remain here, O excellent lady, to rule over this realm in my absence; and take upon thee the burden of supporting thy dependants, which is the highest and best duty of women. 32. Vasishtha related:--Saying so to the moon-faced princess, the self governed prince rose from his seat; to make his daily ablution and discharge his multitudinous duties of the day. 33. Afterwards the prince took leave of his subjects, notwithstanding all their entreaties to detain him; and departed like the setting sun towards his sylvan journey, which was unknown to and impassable by every one. 34. He set out like the setting sun shorn of his glory, and disappeared like the sun from the sight of every body; veil of melancholy covered the face of the princess, as she saw the egress of her lord from the recess of her chamber; as the face of nature is obscured from the shadow of darkness, upon the disappearance of day light below the horizon. (Here is a continued simile between the parting sun and the departing prince, and the face of nature and that of the princess). 35. Now the dark night advanced, veiling the world under her mantle of the ash-coloured dusk; as when the God Hara forsakes the fair Gangá, and takes the nigrescent Yamuná to his embrace. (The day and night representing the two consorts of the sun). 36. The sides of heaven seemed to smile all around, with the denticulated clumps of evening clouds; and with the brightness of the moon beams, glittering on the shoots of Támala trees. (_i.e._ The skies seemed to smile with their glittering teeth of the evening clouds, and smiling moon beams all around). 37. And as the lord of the day departed towards the setting mountain of Sumeru on the other side of the horizon, in order to rove over the elysian garden or paradise of the gods on the north; so the brightness of the day began to fail, as the shade of evening prevailed over the face of the forsaken world. 38. Now sable night accompanied by her lord the nocturnal luminary, advanced on this side of the southern hemisphere; to sport as a loving couple with this cooling light and shade. 39. Then were the clusters of stars seen spangled in the etherial sphere under the canopy of heaven, and appeared as handfuls of _lájas_ or fried rice scattered by the hands of celestial maiden on the auspicious occasion. 40. The sable night gradually advanced to her puberty, with the buds of lotuses as her budding breasts; she then smiled with her moony face, and littered in the opening of the nightly flowers. 41. The prince returned to his beloved princess after performing his evening services, and was drowned in deep sleep; as the mount Mainaka has drowned in the depth of the sea. (Mainaka is a hidden rock in the sea). 42. It was now the time of midnight, when all was still and quiet all about; and the people were all as fast asleep, as if they were pent up in the bosom of stones. 43. He finding her fast asleep in her soft and downy bed, and lolling in the lap of indolence like the female bee in the cup of the lotus. 44. The prince started from his sleep, and parted the sleeping partner of his bed from his cold embrace; as the ascending node of ráhu slowly lets off from its mouth, the eclipsed moon in the east. 45. He got up from one-half of the bed cloth, while the supine princess lay on the other-half of it; as when the God Hari rises from his bed of the waters of the milky ocean, leaving the lonely Lakshmí roll in the waves after him. 46. He walked out of the palace, and bade the guards to stand at their places; while he was going, he said to arrest a gang of robbers beyond the skirts of the city, with his full confidence in himself. 47. Farewell my royalty, said he, and then passed onward out of his princedom; and passed through inhabited tracts and forest lands, as the course of a river runs to the sea. 48. He passed amidst the gloom of night and through the thickets of the forest beset by thorny bushes; and full of heinous beasts and reptiles, with his firm fortitude. 49. In the morning he arrived at an open tract of land which was free from woods and jungles, and ran the course of the day with his peregrination on foot from sun rise to the setting sun; when he took refuge under the bower of the grove. 50. The sun departing from sight left him to the darkness of night, when he performed his bathing and the daily rite; and having eaten some root or fruit which he could get, he passed the night resting on the barren ground under him. (The custom of evening bath, is now falling into disuse). 51. Again and again the morning appeared and brought to light many new cities and districts, and many hills and rivers; which he passed over bravely for twelve repeated days and nights. 52. He then reached at the foot of the Mandara mountain, which was covered by a dense and immense forest which no human foot could penetrate; and lay (stood) afar from the reach of man and the boundaries of human habitation. 53. There appeared a spot beset by sounding rills amidst it, and set with rows of trees with aqueducts under them; here the relics of a dilapidated dwelling came to sight, and seemed to bear the appearance of the deserted mansion of some holy hermit. 54. It was clear of all heinous reptiles and small insects, and was planted with sacred plants and creepers for the sacerdotal purposes of the holy siddhas; while it was full of fruit trees which supplied its occupant with ample food. 55. There was seen a level and pure spot of ground with a water course, and presenting the green verdure and verdant trees; loaded with luxuriant fruits and stretching a cooling shade all over it. 56. The prince built here a bower of verdant creepers and leafy branches, which with their blooming blossoms glistened; as the blue vault of heaven under the lightnings of the rainy season. 57. He made for himself a staff of bamboo and some vessels for his food and drink, as also some plates to put his offerings of fruits and flowers in them; and a jar for the presentation of holy water. He likewise strung some seeds together for the purpose of his saintly rosary. 58. He procured the hides of dead animals and the deerskin for his seat and cover let in cold, and placed them carefully in his holy hermit's cell. 59. He also collected all other things, which were of use in the discharge of his sacerdotal functions; and preserved in his sacred cell, as the Lord of creatures has stored the earth, with every provisions requisite for living beings. 60. He made his morning devotion, and turned his beads with the muttering of his mantras in the hours of his forenoon; and then performed his sacred ablution, and offered the flowers in the service of the Gods in the afternoon. 61. He afterwards took some wild fruits and ground roots, and the soft lotus stalks for his food in the evening, and then passed the night with his lonely self-possession, and in the meditation of his Maker. 62. Thus did the prince of Malwa pass his days with perfect cheer of his heart in the cottage cell, which he had constructed at the foot of the Mandara mountain; and thought no more of his princely pleasures which were utterly lost under the influence of the resignation, which had now taken full possession of his entire soul and mind. CHAPTER LXXXV INVESTIGATION INTO TRUE HAPPINESS. Argument:--The princess goes in quest of the Prince. Their Meeting and the Admonition of the _Princess_. Vasishtha continued:--In this manner, the prince Sikhidhwaja remained in his monastery in the forest, in his state of perfect felicity; while the princess remained at home, and did as you shall now hear from me. 2. After the prince had gone away from the palace at midnight, Chúdálá started from her sleep; as a timid fawn lying in the village, is startled by fear. 3. She found the bed vacated by her husband and thought it as dreary as the sky, without the sun and moon. (A deserted wife is as forlorn as a deserted village or desolate country). 4. She rose up with a melancholy face, and with her heart full of sorrow and sadness; and her limbs were as lank as the leaves of plants, without being well watered in summer. 5. Sorrow sat heavy in her heart, and drove the charm and cheerfulness off her countenance; and she remained as a winter day, over cast by a cloud or covered by a hoar-frost over its face. 6. She sat awhile on the bedstead, and thought with sorrow in herself; saying, "Ah woe unto me" that my lord is gone away from here, and abandoned a kingdom for a retreat in the woods. 7. What then can I do now, than repair to my husband; where he is, because it is appointed both by the law of nature and God, that the husband is the only resort and support of the wife. 8. Having thought so, Chúdálá rose up to follow her husband and she fled by the door of a window into the open air. (This means that her spirit fled into air, by the power of her yoga). 9. She roamed in her aerial course, and by the force of her breath on the wings of air; and appeared before the face of the aerial spirits (siddhas), as a second moon moving in the skies. 10. As she was passing at the night time, she happened to behold her lord roving about with a sword in his hand; and appearing as a ghost of a vetála or demon wandering in the solitary forest. 11. The princess seeing her husband in this manner from her aerial seat, she began to reflect on the future state which awaited on her husband; and which she foresaw by power of her yoga. 12. It is certain, O Ráma! that whatever is allotted in the book of fate to befall on any body at any time or place or manner, the same is sure to take place at the very moment and spot and in the same way (and all this is well known to the holy seer and seeress by the prophetic power, which they acquire by their knowledge and practice of yoga). 13. The princess seeing plainly in her presence, whatever is to take place on her husband; and knowing it to be averted by no means, she stopped from going to him to communicate the same. 14. Be my visit postponed to him to a future occasion, when it is destined for me to be in his company again. 15. Thinking so in her mind Chúdálá turned her course from him, and returned to her inner apartment and reclined on her milk white pillow; as the crescent of the moon lies recumbent on the hoary forehead of Hara. 16. She proclaimed to her people, that the prince was gone on some important occasion; and having relieved with the consolation of his quick return, she took the reins of the government in her own hands. 17. She managed the state in the manner of her husband, according to the established rules of toleration; and with the same care and vigilance, as the husband-woman guards her ripening cornfields. 18. In this manner they passed their days without seeing one another, and the conjugal pair lived separated from each other; in their respective habitations of the royal palace and the solitary forest. 19. And in this manner passed on their days and nights, their weeks and fortnights, their months and seasons in regular succession over one and another; the one counting his days in the woods and the other in her princely palace. 20. What is the use of a lengthy description of full eighteen years, which glided on slowly over the separated couple, the one dwelling in her palatial dome, and the other in his woodland retreat. 21. Many more years elapsed in this manner, until the hermit prince Sikhidhwaja was overtaken by the hoary old age; in his holy hermitage in a cell of the great Mandara mountain. 22. Knowing the passions of the prince to be on the wane, with his declining age and grey hairs, and finding herself not yet too old to overtake him in the distant forest. 23. And believing that it was the proper time for her to prevail on him, and to bring him back to the palace, she thought of joining her husband where he was. 24. With these thoughts, she made up her mind of going towards the Mandara mountain; and started from her home at night, and mounted on the wings of air to the upper sky. 25. As she was moving onward on the pinions of air, she beheld in the upper sky some Siddhawomen, wearing the thin bark of the kalpa tree and girt with jewels of clustering gems. 26. These were the inhabitants of the garden of paradise, and going out to meet their Siddha husbands; and sprinkled over with perfumeries, shedding their dews as bright moon beams. 27. She breathed the air perfumed by the flowers of the garden of paradise, and worn by the Siddhas of Eden; and wallowed in the moon beams, waving like the billows of the milky ocean. 28. She felt a purer moon light, as she ascended the higher atmosphere; and she passed amidst the clouds, as the flashing lightning moves in their midst. (The fair princess flashed as the lightning). 29. She said, this flashing lightning though situated in the bosom of her cloudy spouse, is yet looking at him repeatedly with the winkling of her eyes; so must I look out for my absent lord, as I pass like the lightning in the midway sky. 30. It is true, she said, that nature is irrepressible during the life time of a person; hence it is impossible for my disquieted mind, to have its quiet without the sight of my loving and lion like lord. 31. My mind roves and runs mad, when I say, I will see my lord, and when I will see these creepers turning round and clasping their supporting tree. (And all my philosophy avails me naught against my nature). 32. My mind loses its patience to see the contraction of these senseless creepers, and the excursion of the superior siddha females in quest of their consorts. (All animated nature from the vegetable to the immortal are bound by conjugal love). 33. How then and when, shall I like them come to meet the man that is situated in my heart. 34. These gentle breezes, and these cooling moon-beams and those plants of the forest, do all continue to disquiet my heart and set it on fire (instead of cooling its fervour). 35. O my simple heart, why dost thou throb in vain and thrill at every vein within me? and oh my faithful mind, that art pure as air, why dost thou lose thy reason and right discretion? 36. It is thou O faithless mind! that dost excite my heart to run after its spouse; better remain with thy yearnings in thyself, than torment my quiet spirit with thy longings. 37. Or why is it, O silly woman! that thou dost long in vain after thy husband, who possibly became too old (to require thee any more); he is now an ascetic and too weak in his bodily frame, and devoid of all his earthly desires. 38. I think these desires of the enjoyment of his princely honors and pleasures, have now been utterly rooted out of his mind; and the plant of his fondness for sensual gratifications, is now as dry as a channel that pours forth its waters into a large river or sea. 39. I think my husband, who was as fond of me as to form one soul with myself; has become as callous to soft passions, as a dried and withered tree. 40. Or I will try the power of my yoga to waken his mind to sense, and infuse the eager longings and throbbings of my heart into his. 41. I will collect the thoughts of the ascetic devotee to one focus, and employ them towards the government of his realm; where we may be settled for ever to our hearts content. 42. O I have after long discovered the way to my object, and it is by infusing my very thoughts into the mind of thy husband. 43. The unanimity of the minds of the wedded pair, and the pleasure of their constant union; contribute to the highest happiness of human beings on earth. 44. Revolving in this manner in her mind, the princess Chúdálá passed onward in her aerial journey; now mounting on mountains and mountainous clouds, and then passing the bounds of lands and visible horizons; she reached the sight of Mandara, and found the glen and cavern in it. 45. She entered the grove as an aerial spirit invisible to sight, and passed as the air amidst it known by the shaking of the leaves of trees. (The spirits like winds have motion and the power of moving other bodies). 46. She beheld a leafy hut in one corner of the wood, and knew her husband by the power of her yoga; though appeared to be transformed to another person. 47. She found his body that was decorated before by a variety of jewels, and glittered as the mount of Meru with its gold; to have grown as lean and thin and as dark and dry, as a withered and dried leaf. 48. He wore a vest of rays, and seemed as if he had dipped in a fountain of ink; he sat alone in one spot, and appeared as the god Siva to be wholly devoid of all desire. 49. He was sitting on the barren ground, and stringing the flowers to his braided hairs; when the beauteous princess approached before him. 50. She was moved to sorrow at the sight of his miserable plight, and thus bespoke to herself inaudibly in her mind. Alas, how painful it is to behold this piteous sight! 51. O! the great stupidity that rises from ignorance of spiritual knowledge, and which has brought on this miserable condition on this self-deluded prince. 52. I must not call him unfortunate, as long as he is my husband; though the deep darkness of his mind (ignorance) hath brought to this miserable plight. (The living husband however miserable, is always to be called true fortunate by the faithful wife.) 53. I must try my best to bring him to the knowledge of truth, which will no doubt restore him to his sense of enjoyment here, and of his liberation hereafter; and change his figure to another form altogether. 54. I must advance nearer to him to instil understanding in his mind, or else my words will make no effect in him; who treats me always as his young and silly wife. 55. I will therefore admonish my husband in the figure of a devotee, and it is possible that my admonition delivered in this manner, will make its effect in him; who is now grown hoary with age (old age must have abated the ardour of youth). 56. It is possible that good senses may dawn in the clear understanding, which is not perverted from its nature; saying so the princess Chúdálá took the shape of a Bráhman boy on herself. 57. She reflected a little on the Agni-soma-mantra, and changed her form as the water turns to a wave; and then alighted on the earth, in the shape of a Brahman's lad. 58. She advanced toward her lord with a smiling countenance, and the prince Sikhidhwaja beheld the Bráhman boy advancing towards him. 59. He appeared to come from some other forest, and stood before him in the form of devotion itself; his body was as bright as the molten gold, and his person was ornamented with a string of pearls. 60. The white sacrificial thread graced his neck, and his body was covered with two pieces of milk white vests; he held the sacred water pot on one hand, and with his pupils staff in the other, he made his approach to the prince. (The order of the students was called _dandi_ from their holding the sacred stick in one hand, like the pilgrim staff in Europe). 61. His wrist was entwined by a string of beads, and a long and double chain of rosary hang from his neck to the ground. (Double and triple threads of sacred seeds worn about the necks of saints). 62. His head was covered over by long and flowing jet black hairs, in the manner of the strings of black bees, fluttering about the tops of white lotuses; and the radiance of his, shed a lustre on the spot. 63. His face ornamented with earrings, glowed as the rising sun with his lustre of rosy rays, and the knotted hair on the top of his head with the mandára flower fastened on it, appeared as pinnacle of a mountain with the rising moon above it. 64. The husband that sat quiet with his tall stature, and his limbs and senses under his subjection; appeared as a mount of ice with the ashes rubbed all over his body. 65. He saw the Bráhman boy appearing before him, as the full moon rising on the aureate mount of Meru; and rose before him with the respect. (Which is paid to that luminary by her worshippers). 66. Thinking his guest as the son of some God, the prince stood with his bare feet before him; and addressed him saying, obeisance to thee O thou son of a God, take this seat and sit thyself there. 67. He pointed out to him with his hand the leafy bed that was spread before him, and offered him a handful of flowers which he poured into his hands. 68. The Bráhman boy responded to him saying: "I greet thee in return, O thou son of a king! that lookest like a dew drop or the beaming moon-light sparkling on a lotus leaf." He then received the flowers from his hand and sat upon the leafy bed. 69. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me O thou heaven born boy, whence thou comest and whither thou goest, as for me it is lucky day that has brought thee to my sight. 70. Please accept this pure water, and fragrant flowers and this honorarium also; and receive this string of flowers, that I have strung with my hands; and so be all well with thee. 71. Vasishtha related:--So saying, Sikhidhwaja offered the flowers, the wreathed blossoms, the honorariums and other offerings; as directed by the ceremonial law to his worshipful lady. 72. Chúdálá said:--I have travelled far and wide over many countries on the surface of this earth, and have never met with so hearty a reception and such honors; as I have now received from thee. 73. Thy humility, courtesy and complacence bespeak thee to be highly favoured of the Gods, and betoken thee to be attended with long life on earth. (Because the meek and gentle are said to be long lived on earth). 74. Tell me O devotee, whether you have ever applied your mind towards the acquirement of your final liberation and extinction; after the abandonment of all your earthly desires, by the magnanimity and tranquillization of your soul for a long time. (It is true you have long forsaken the vanities of the world, but have you set your heart to seek the eternal emancipation of your soul?). 75. You have, my dear Sir, chosen a very painful alternative for your final liberation, that you have made the vow of your undergoing the hardship of this forest life, by forsaking the care of your large dominion. (The care of the state is painful, but the pains of hermitage are much more so). 76. Sikhidhwaja replied:--I wonder not that thou must know all things, being a God thyself and thou wearest this form of the Bráhman boy, yet the supernatural beauty of thy person, bespeaks thee to be an all-knowing deity. 77. Methinks these members of the body, are bedewed with the ambrosial beam of moonlight, or how could thy very appearance shed such nectarious peace even at the first sight. 78. O handsome boy! I see in thy person a great resemblance of the features of my beloved one, who is now reigning over my kingdom (and whom perhaps I will see no more in this life). 79. Please now to refresh thy fair and fatigued frame, with wearing these flowery chaplet from the head to foot; as the vest of a hoary cloud, invests a mountain from its top to bottom. 80. I see thy face as beautiful, as the stainless moon; and thy limbs as delicate, as tender petals of flowers; and I find them now waning and fading under the solar gleams. 81. Know pretty youth that it was for the service of the gods, that I had wreathed the flowers together; and now I offer and bequeath them to thee, that art no less a God to me. 82. My life is crowned today with its best luck by its service of a guest like thyself, for it is said by the wise that attendance on guests is meritorious than the merit of attending on the Gods. (Hence the law of Hospitality is not less binding on the Hindu than it is with the Bedouin Arabs). 83. Now deign O moon faced deva (deity) to reveal unto me what God thou art, and the progeny of what deity that dost deign to dignify me with thy visit; please tell me all this and remove the doubts that disturb my breast. 84. The Bráhman boy replied:--Hear me, prince, relate to thee all that thou requirest to know of me; for who is there so uncivil, that will deceive and not comply to the request of his humble suppliant. 85. There lives in this world, the well known, the holy saint Nárada by name; who is the snowy spot of pure camphor, on the face of those that are famed for the purity of their lives. 86. It was at one time that this Godly saint sat in his devotion in a cavern of the golden mountain; where the holy river of Gangá, fast flows with her running current and huge billows dashing against the shore. 87. The saint stepped out once to the beach of the river, to see how it glided on in its course; like a necklace of gems torn down from the mountain on high. 88. He heard there at once the tinkling sound of trinkets and bracelets, and a mixed murmur of vocal voice; and felt the curiosity to know what it was and whence it came. 89. He lightly looked towards the sacred stream and observed there an assemblage of young ladies, who equalled the celestial nymphs Rambhá and Tilottamá in the beauty of their persons; who had come out to sport by and bathe in the clear waters of the holy river. 90. They plunged and played in the waters removed from the sight of men, and were all naked with their uncovered breasts; blooming as the buds of golden lotuses in the lake. 91. These were jogging to and fro and dashing against one another like the ripened fruits of trees, and seemed to be filled with flavoured liquor for the giddiness of their observers. 92. Their swollen bosoms formed the sanctuary of the God of love, and were washed by the pure waters of the sacred river. 93. Their fullness with luscious liquor, put to blush the sweet waters of the sacred river of Gangá; they were as mound in the garden of paradise, and as the wheels of the car for the God Káma to ride upon. 94. Their buttocks were as pillars of the bridge in water, obstructing and dividing the free passage of the waters of the Ganges; and their upper part of the body, gives a lustre of world's beauty. 95. The shadow of one another's body was clearly visible to the naked eye, on the limpid waters of the Gangá; like a Kalpa tree in rainy season, with all its branches. 96. The thick verdure of the verdant season, had put to shade the light of the day; and the flying dust of flowers, had filled the forest air with fragrance. 97. Water-fowls of various kinds were sporting on the banks, as they do by the sea side and about the watering places round the trees; while the budding breasts of these dames, had put to blush the blooming buds of lotuses. 98. They held up their faces, which were as beautiful as a bud of lotuses; while their loosened hairs hung by them, like swarms of bees; and the loose glances of their eye-balls, were playing as the fluttering black-bees. 99. Their swollen breasts resembling the aureate lotuses, which were used by the Gods as golden cups to hide their ambrosial nectar; therein for fear of its being ravished by the demons and demi-Gods. 100. They were now seen to be hiding themselves in the secret bowers and caverns of the mountain, like lotuses hidden under foliage; and now hastening to the cooling beach of the river, to leave their lovely limbs in its limpid stream. 101. The saint saw the bevy of the young ladies, resembling the body of the full moon complete with all its digits; and his mind was ravished with their beauty (as the minds of men are turned to the delirium of lunacy by looking at the moon-light). 102. He lost the balance of his reason, and became elated with giddiness; and his breath of his life throbbed in his heart, by impulse of the delight that raged and boiled in his breast. 103. At last the excess of his rapture, gave effusion of his passion; as the fullness of a cloud in summer, breaks out in water in the rainy weather. 104. The saint turned as wan as a waning moon, and as the pale moon-light in frost; and like a fading plant, torn from its supporting tree. 105. He faded as the stalk of a creeper parted in two, and withered away as a sapling after it has lost its juicy sap. 106. Sikhidhwaja asked:--How is it that the pure and peerless saint, who is liberated in his life time and acquainted with all knowledge; who is void of desires and devoid of passions, and who is as pure as the clear air both in the inside as well as outside of his body? 107. How is it that even he the holy Nárada himself, could lose his patience and countenance who leads his life of celibacy all along? 108. Chúdálá replied:--Know, O princely sage! that all living beings in the three worlds not excepting even the Gods; have their bodies composed of both ingredients (of good and evil) by their very nature. 109. Some remain in ignorance, and others in knowledge to the end of their lives; and some remaining in happiness, and others in misery to the end of their days. 110. Some thrive in happiness with their virtue of contentment and the like, and are enlightened in their minds like a room by the light of the lamps; and as the bosom of the sea by the light of the luminaries of heaven. 111. Some are tormented by their hunger and poverty, and are involved in misery like the face of nature under the darkness of clouds. 112. The true and pure reality of the soul (divine spirit), being once lost to one's sight (the visible or phenomenal world): makes its appearance before him, like a dark and thick cloud of rainy weather. 113. Though one may be employed in his continuous investigation into spirituality, yet a moment's neglect of his spiritualism is sure to darken his spiritual light; as the apparition of the world appears to sight. 114. As the succession of light and darkness makes the course of the day and night, so the return of the pain and pleasure indicates the progress of life. (This variety kills the monotony of life). 115. Thus the two states of pleasure and pain, are known to accompany over lives from birth to death; as the results of our prior acts (of merit and demerit). 116. This impression of past life marks the lives of the ignorant entirely, as the red colouring sticks for ever in a cloth; but it is not so with the intelligent, whose knowledge of truth wipes off the stigma of their pristine acts. 117. As the eternal hue of a gem, whether it be good or bad, is exhibited on the outside of it; and also as a crystal stone, however clear it may be, takes the colour of the outward object in it (so the ignorant exhibit their inherent nature in their outward conduct, and partake also the qualities of their surroundings). 118. But it is not so with the intelligent knower of truth (tatwajna), whose soul is free from all inward and outward impressions in his life time; and whose mind is never tinged like that of the ignorant, by the reflexion of anything about him. (Knowledge of truth is vitiated by nothing). 119. It is not only the contiguity or presence of things or pleasures, that taint the minds of the ignorant; but the absence and loss also are causes of great regret, from the stain they leave in the memory; as it is not only a new paint that paints a thing, but also the vestiges that it leaves behind, give it also a colouring. (The remembrance of past things, gives a colouring to the character of man). 120. Thus as the minds of the ignorant are never cleansed from the taint of their favourite objects, so they are never free from their bondage in this world; like the liberated sage by his want of earthly attachment. Because it is the parvitude of our desires that contributes to our liberation, while the amplitudes of our wishes lead us to our continued bondage in this world. (This passage presents us with the pains of memory, instead of the pleasures which some poets have portrayed on its face). 121. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me my lord, why men feel sorry or joyous at their pain or pleasure, to which they are bound by their birth in this world; and for what is far off from them (either as past or gone and what is in their expectation in future, since both the past and future are absent from us)? 122. I find your words my lord to be as clear as they are pretty and full of meaning, and the more I hear them so much the more do I thirst to listen to them; as the peacock is insatiate with the roarings of clouds. 123. Chúdálá answered:--It is pleasant to inquire into the cause of our birth, and how the soul being accompanied with the body, derives its knowledge through the senses, and feels thereby a delight which is apparent in babes. (We see by observation how babies are pleased with the exercise of their limbs and senses). 124. But the living soul (or the vital principle), which is contained in the heart and runs through the Kundaliní artery as the breath of life; is subject to pain and sorrow by its very birth. (Hence we see, new born child coming to cry out no sooner it comes to life after its birth). 125. The living soul or vital spirit (which is as free as air), comes to be confined in the arterial chains of the prison houses of the different bodies; by its entering into the lungs breathing with the breath of life. (The spirit of God was breathed into the nostrils of man). 126. The breath of life circulating through the body, and touching its different parts or the organs of sense, raise their sensations in the soul; and as the moisture of the ground grows the trees and shrubs on earth, so doth our vitality produce the sensations of the pleasure and pain in the soul. 127. The living soul being confined in the arteries of different bodies, gives a degree of happiness and steadiness to some, which the miserable can never enjoy. (The poor are bereft to the comforts of high life). 128. Know that the living soul, is said to be liberated in the same proportion as it manifests its tranquilized state; and know also that it is bounden bondage in the same degree, as it appears to be sorry in the face and choked in its breathing. (The dejected and depressed spirit does not breathe out freely). 129. The alternate feeling of pain and pleasure, is likewise the bondage of the soul and no other, but this and it is the want of these alternations, that constitutes its liberation; and these are the two states of the living soul. 130. As long as the deceptive senses, do not bring the false sensations of pain and pleasure unto the soul; so long does it rest in its state of sweet composure, and the calm tranquillity of the positive rest. 131. The invisible soul coming in sight of some transient pleasure or want of pain, becomes as joyous as the cheerful sea passing the reflexion of the bright moon-beams in its bosom. 132. The soul equally exults at the sight of pleasure, as it grieves at the knowledge of its unsteadiness; as a foolish cat rejoices to see of fish, which it has not the power to catch or hold fast in its clutches. 133. When the soul, has the pure knowledge of the intelligibles and the cognition of itself; it comes to know, that there is no such thing as positive pain or pleasure; and has thereby its calm and quiet composure for ever, and under every circumstance. 134. When it comes to know that it has no concern with any pain or pleasure, and that its living is to no purpose at all; it is then said to be awakened in itself, and to rest in its quietude of nirvána-extinction (unconsciousness of one's self or its consciousness of itself as a cypher, is termed the state of its nirvána-annihilation). 135. When the living soul comes to know by its internal intuition, that pain and pleasure are unreal in their nature; it is no longer concerned about them, but rests quietly within itself. 136. When the soul comes to the belief, that the visible world is no other than the vacuity of Intellect or Brahma himself; it gets its rest in its quietness, and becomes as cool as an oilless and extinguished lamp. (Here is the vacuism of Vasishtha again). 137. The belief that all nature is vacuity, and all existence is the one unity together with the thought of an infinite inanity; is what leads the soul to its unconsciousness of pain and pleasure. (All is but void and vacancy, and mere air-drawn phantasy). 138. The thoughts of pleasure and pain therefore are as false, as the false appearance of the world; and this error is inherited by the living soul from Brahmá the first of living beings in the world. (The error of taking the unreal for real began with Brahmá himself). 139. Whatever was thought and ordained by the first creative power in the beginning, the same has taken root in the living soul; and is going on even to the present time as its nature. 140. Sikhidhwaja asked:--It is only when one feels some pleasure in his mind, that it runs in the blood through his veins and arteries; but the holy Nárada could not be affected by the sight, nor drop his semen from him. 141. Chúdálá replied:--The animal soul being exited (by the existent sight of women), excites the living breath of _prána_ to motion; and the whole body obeys the dictate of the mind, as the body of soldier obeys the command of their commander. 142. The vital airs being put to motion, they move the internal sap and serum from their seats; as the blowing winds bear away the fragrance of flowers and the dust of leaves, and drop down the fruits and flowers and leaves of trees. 143. The semen being put to motion falls downwards, as the clouds being driven together burst into the rain water. 144. The semen then passes out of the body by the canals of the veins and arteries, as the running waters pass through the channels and canals of a river. 145. Sikhidhwaja said:--O thou divine boy! that knowest both the past and present states of things, as it appears from thy instructive discourse; please to instruct me at present, what you mean by the nature of things by the Brahmic power of Brahma. 146. Chúdálá replied:--Nature is that intrinsic character, which is implanted in the constitution of things at the beginning of their creation; and the same which continues to this day the essential part of the ghata, pata, and all other things. 147. It comes on by a _kákátálya_ or accidental course of its own, as it is compared by the learned with the rise and fall of waves and bubbles in the water; and the marks of the lacuna in wood and iron. (The fortuitous combination of the atomic principles, is the cause of the formation of concrete bodies; according to the Atomic philosophy of Leucippus, Democritus and the Epicureans of old). 148. It is under the power of this nature, that all things move about in the world in the various forms; and with all their properties of change and persistence. It is only the indifferent and inappetent soul that is liberated from the subjection of nature, while the apparent is fast bound to its chains and wander with their prurient nature in repeated transmigrations. CHAPTER LXXXVI. THE PRODUCTION OF THE POT (OR THE EMBRYONIC CELL). Argument:--The birth of the Bráhman boy from the seed of Nárada, preserved in a pot whereby he was called the pot-born, and his education. Chúdálá continues:--It is the nature of everything in the extensive world to be born in its own kind (_i.e._ the similar only springs from the similar and nothing of a dissimilar kind). All persons and things continue to go on in it by their desires and tendencies, whether it be in the directions of virtue or vice or good or evil. (Nature is the invariable quiddity of a thing; but its desire or inclination is a variable property or quality of it). 2. When this desire or want of the mind of a man is either diminished or brought under his control, he is no longer subject to the acts of goodness or vice but becomes exempt both from merit and demerit; and their consequences of reiterated births and deaths by the utter indifference. (Neutrality in action is the way to one's inanity in both worlds. This is not a right rule since the commission of a good action is as commendable, as an omission in the discharge of duty is held culpable in law and morality). 3. Sikhidhwaja rejoined:--O eloquent speaker! your words are as full of sense as they are of great import to me, they bespeak your great penetration into the depths of wisdom. 4. My audience of the sweet exultance of your speech has given me a satisfaction, equal to that of my draught of a large dose of the ambrosial water. 5. Now be pleased to give me a brief narration of the story of your birth and pedigree, and I will hear with all my attention your words of sound sense and wisdom. 6. Please sir to relate unto me, what the son of lotus-Brahmá--the venerable sage Nárada, did with the seminal strength, which unconsciously fell from him on the ground. 7. Chúdálá related:--The _muni_ then curbed back the infuriate elephant of his beastly mind by the strong bridle of prudence; and bound it fast in the iron chain of the great intelligence. 8. His virile strength which was as hot as fire, resembled the molten moon melted down by the flame of the final conflagration; and as liquified as the fluid quick-silver or other metallic solution. 9. The sage who had a water-pot of crystal stone fast by his side, laid hold of the same and put the fluid semen in it, in the manner of his depositing the liquid moon-beams in the disc of the moon. 10. There was on one side of the mount of Meru, a projected rock with a deep cavern in it; the passage of which was not obstructed by the heaps of stones which lay before it. 11. The _muni_ placed the pot inside that cave as the embryo is situated in the belly, and he filled the pot with milk which he produced by his will; as the lord of creation has filled the milky ocean with its watery milk. (The sages are said to have miraculous powers by force of their yoga). 12. The _muni_ neglected his sacred offering and brooded over the pot, as a bird hatches over its egg; and it was in a course of a month that the foetus grew up in the pot of milk, as the reflexion of the crescent moon increases in the bosom of the milky ocean. 13. At the end of the month the pot bore a full formed foetus, as the orb of the moon becomes full in the course of a month; and as the season of spring produces the lotus bud with its blushing petals. 14. The foetus came out in the fullness of its time, and with the full possession of all the members of its body; as the full moon rises from the milky ocean without diminution of any of its digits. 15. The body became fully developed in time, and the limbs were as beautiful as the horns of the moon shine brightly in the lighted fortnight. 16. After performance of the initiatory ceremonies (of tonsure and investiture of the sacred thread); and the sage instructed him in whatever he knew, as one pours out the contents of one vessel into another. 17. In course of a short time the boy became acquainted with all the oral instructions (Vangmaya) of his father, and became an exact ectype of the venerable sage. (The best son likens his father). 18. The old sage became as illustrious with his brilliant boy, as the orb of the moon shines brightly with its train of resplendent stars. 19. Once on a time the sage Nárada went to the empyrean of his father Brahmá accompanied by his young progeny, and there made his obeisance to the prime progenitor of mankind. 20. The boy also bowed down before his grandsire, who knowing him to be versed in the vedas and sciences; took him up and set him on his lap. 21. The lord Brahmá pronounced his blessings on the boy, and knowing him to be born of the pot and acquainted with the vedas; gave him the name of Kumbha or the pot. 22. Know me O hermit! to be the son of the sage Nárada, and grand son of the great lotus-born Brahmá himself; and know by the appellation of Kumbha from my birth into the pot. 23. I have the four vedas for my companions and playmates, and I always delighted with their company; in the heavenly abode of my lotus-born grandsire--the Divine Brahmá. 24. Know the Goddess Sarasvatí to be my mother, and the Gáyatrí hymn as my maternal aunt; my habitation is in the heaven of Brahmá where I dwell as the grand-child of the lord of creatures. 25. I wonder at my pleasure, throughout the wide extended world; I rove about with a soul full of felicity, and not on any errand or business whatever. 26. I walk over the earth without touching it with my feet, and its flying dust do not approach my person; nor is my body ever fatigued in all its rambles. (The spiritual body is intangible and unwearied). 27. It happened this day, that I came to behold thy hermitage in the course of my etherial journey; and so directed my course this way, to see thee in this place. (This is the substance of my life, as I have now related unto thee). 28. Thus O forester! I have given you the whole account of my life as you have heard just now; because it is a pleasure to good people, to hold conversation with the good and wise. 29. Válmíki said:--As they were talking in this manner the day past away to its evening service, and the sun set down below the horizon; the court broke and every one repaired to his evening ablution, and met again with the rising sun on the next morning. CHAPTER LXXXVII. CONTINUATION OF THE SAME AND ENLIGHTENMENT OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--Sikhidhwaja's praise of Kumbha and expression of his sorrow, he turns to be a disciple of the same and professes his faith in the vedánta doctrines. Sikhidhwaja said:--Sir, it appears to me that the hoarded merits of all my former lives, have brought you today to my presence here; as an unforeseen hurricane drives the waters of the sea on the dry mountain tops. (_i.e._ thy speech is as cooling draught to my perished soul). 2. I reckon myself as highly blest among the blessed today to be thus favoured by your presence, and cooled by your speech distilling as ambrosial dews from your lips. 3. Never did a more sensible speech, touch and cool my soul to such a degree as yours ere this; wherefore I deem your holy presence as more precious to me, than the gaining of a kingdom. 4. The unrestrained delight which is felt in general (from the words of the wise), which are free from self-interest and selfish motives; is far superior to the self-restricted pleasure of sovereignty, which is delightful once in imagination only (and not in its actual possession). 5. Vasishtha said:--As the prince was uttering these encomiums, the Bráhman boy Kumbha passed over them in silence; and interrupted him by saying:-- 6. Chúdálá said:--Please put a stop, sir, to these words of yours, and give me an account of yourself as I have given mine to you; and tell me who you are, and what you do in this lonely mountain. 7. How long is it that you have passed in this forester's life of yours, and what is your main object in view. Tell me the bare truth, because it is beyond the probity of an ascetic, to utter anything but the plain truth. (The ascetics are names of _satyavrata_ or vowed to truth). 8. Sikhidhwaja replied:--Lord as you are the offspring of a God, everything must be well known to you; and as the Gods are full well acquainted with the secrets and circumstances of all people, I have very little to relate to you about me. 9. It is from my fear of the world (and its temptations), that I have abandoned it and taken my abode amidst this forest; and this though you well know, will I now briefly state unto you. 10. I am Sikhidhwaja the ruler of a country, which I have long relinquished for a seat in the forest; and know, O knower of all truths, that it is my fear of the trap-doors of the world and future transmigration in it, that has driven me to this retired wilderness. 11. It is no more than the reiteration of pain and pleasure, and of life and death in this accursed world; and it is to evade all these, that I have betaken myself to my austerities in these solitary woods. 12. I wander about on all sides, and perform my rigorous austerities without any respite; and I give no rest to myself, but keep my vigils like a miser over his little stock. 13. I am without any effort or attempt, and so without any fruit and fruition also; I am lonely, and so helpless likewise; I am poor and therefore friendless also, and know me Divine personage! to be pining in this forest like a withered tree perforated by worms. 14. I observe strictly all my sacred rites without any fail or failure, and yet I fall from one sorrow into a sea of sorrows; and have grown too pensive, that even the ambrosial draught is unpleasant to me. 15. Chúdálá said:--It was once on a time that I had my great progenitor (Brahmá) to tell me which of the two, the observance of duties or their non-observance for the sake of knowledge (_i.e._ whether practice or theoretical knowledge); is the more useful to and preferable by mankind. 16. Brahmá replied:--Knowledge is no doubt the supreme Good, as it leads to ones acquaintance with the unity of the Deity and the oneness of himself; but action is inculcated to man at the duty of his life, both for the pleasure and passing of his life time. 17. Let them that have not acquired their intellectual light and the sight of the soul, be employed in their duties by their offsprings and fellow creatures; for who that is devoid of a silken robe, will go about naked and not wrap himself with a blanket or coarse cloth. 18. The ignorant that are actuated by their desires and live upon their hopes, meet with their objects as the reward of their action; but the knowing and speculative theorist, having neither any desire in his mind nor action of his body, meets with no reward of either. 19. An action without its object goes to naught and for nothing, as the fruit bearing plants become fruitless and die away without being properly watered in their time. (There it is doubtful whether the comparison of watering refers to the desire or action. The gloss refers it to the action without which no desire is successful). 20. As the effect of a certain season on plants &c., is displaced by that of the succeeding one; so the fruit of an action, is frustrated by its want of its desire (of the object). 21. As it is the nature of kusa-grass never to fructify, though they bear the flowers in time; so my son, no action can produce any fruit without the desire of the main object (as its final cause). (Here Chúdálá addresses her husband as her son). 22. As the boy possest the idea of a ghost in his mind, sees the apparition of a devil before him; and as a sick man having hypochondria of his malady, is soon attacked by it (so everyone meets with what he has in his mind). 23. As the kusa-grass presents the fair flowers to view, without ever bearing their fruits; so does the speculative theorist meditate on the beauty of his theory, without producing its results by its practice. 24. Sikhidhwaja said:--But it is said that all human desire is vain, and its accompanying egoism is a fallacy; and that they are the creatures of our ignorance, like our error of a sea in the burning sands of a desert. 25. So it is to the gnostic theist, whose ignorance is altogether removed by his knowledge of all things as the Divine spirit; such a man of course has no desire rising in his mind, as there is no appearance of the sea in the sands before the eyes of the wise. 26. It is by forsaking his desires, that a person is freed from his bonds of his disease and death; and his internal soul arriving to the perfection of the Deity, is exempted from future birth. 27. But know the human mind to be fraught with desires, from which the learned few are only exempt; it is by their transcendental knowledge of the knowable one, that the Divinely wise alone are exempted from their regeneration in this mortal world. 28. Chúdálá replied--It is true, O princely sage! that knowledge is said to be the chief good (summum bonum), by the Gods Brahmá and others and also by all sapient sages; and notwithstanding thy knowing of this, why is it that thou remainest in this state of thy gross ignorance? 29. What mean these pots and staffs, these wooden stools and those seats of kusa-grass; and why is it, O royal prince! that you delight in these false playings of fools? 30. Why is it that you do not employ your mind to inquire into the questions as to what thou art, and how has this world came to existence, and how and when will cease to exist (in your consciousness of reality). Instead of making inquiries in these solemn truths, you are passing your time like the ignorant in your fooleries only? 31. Why don't you discuss about the natures of bondage and liberation in the company of the learned, and pay your homage at their venerable feet? 32. Do you want, O prince to pass your life in the discharge of your painful austerities, as some insects finish their days in perforating the stones in which they live? 33. You can easily obtain the delight you seek, if you will but betake yourself to the service of holy man; and keep company with the tolerant and wise souls, arguing with them on spiritual subjects. 34. Or you may continue to remain in your grotto, in this forest living on the simple food of holy men; and by forsaking the evil propensities of your mind, abide here as an insect in a hole under the ground. 35. Vasishtha related:--Being thus awakened to sense by his wife--the Divine boy--Sikhidhwaja, melted into tears; and with his face bathed in water, spoke to the lad as follows:-- 36. Sikhidhwaja said:--O Divine child! it is after a long time, that I am awakened by thee to my senses; and I perceive now that it was my weak-headedness, which drove me from the society of respectable to this lonely forest. 37. Ah! I find now that my mind is purged to-day of its endless sins, which has brought thee to my presence here, and remonstrate with me on my past misconduct. 38. O beauteous boy! I deem thee henceforward as my monitor and father and my best friend forever, and acknowledge myself as thy pupil; wherefore I bow down at thy feet and pray thee to take piety on me. 39. Please admonish me now on the subject of Divine knowledge, as you are best acquainted with it; and whereby I may be freed from all my sorrows, and be settled with perfect peace and bliss of my mind. 40. You said at first, that knowledge is the supreme bliss or summum bonum of mankind; now tell me, which is that knowledge which saves us from misery; whether it is the knowledge of particulars which lead us to the acquaintance of specials, or that of the general which brings us to the transcendental. (The former is the inductive knowledge of ascending from particulars to the universal, and the latter is deductive knowledge of deducing everything from the primitive one). 41. Chúdálá replied:--I will tell thee prince as far as I know about it, and what may be best acceptable to thee; and not throw away my words in vain, like crowing ravens about a headless trunk. 42. Because the words that are uttered to the impertinent questions of a person and not heeded by him, are thrown in vain; and become as useless to him, as her eye sight in the dark. 43. Sikhidhwaja said:--Sir, your words are as acceptable to me as the ordinances of veda (gospel truth); and though you utter them without previous meditation (extempore), yet I have full faith in them. 44. Chúdálá replied:--As a boy obeys the words of his father, knowing it to be pronounced for his certain good; so must you receive my words (knowing them to tend to your best welfare). 45. Think my advices to be all good for you, after you hear them with proper attention; and hear unto my words, as you hear music without inquiring into their reason or rhyme. 46. Hear me now relate to you an interesting story of a certain person, whose conduct and character resembled in every way to thine; and who was brought back to his sense after his long aberration. This is a tale to dispel the worldly cares and fears of the intelligent. CHAPTER LXXXVIII. THE TALE OF THE CRYSTAL GEM. Argument:--The slipping of a precious stone in ignorance, and picking of a glossy glass in view of it. Chúdálá related:--There lived once a rich man, combined with opposite qualities (of charity and penury) in his character; as the sea contains the water and the submarine fire in its depth. 2. He was as skilled in arts, as he was practiced in arms; and was trained up in all dealings, as he was expert in business. But his great ambition in all his pursuits, kept him from the knowledge of the most high. (His excess of worldliness, was a preventive to spiritual knowledge). 3. He employed all his endeavours to obtain the imaginary gem of the philosopher's stone _chintámani_ (by means of his pujas and prayers and other sacred rites); as the submarine fire wants to devour the waters, and dries up the bed of the sea. 4. His great avidity and persevering patience, succeeded after a lapse of a long time to obtain the precious gem at last; because there is nothing which may not be effected by the ardent zeal of man. (Omnia vincit labor). 5. He succeeded in his attempts by his unwearied labour, joined with his firm resolution and well directed plan; as the meanest man is favoured with a fortune, by his employment of these means. (Fortune crowns all strenuous efforts with success). 6. He saw the stone as lying before him, and ready to be grasped in his hand; as a hermit sitting on the peak of a mountain, thinks the rising moon as easy to be grasped by his hand. (Too ardent desire presents the shadow of the object to one's view). 7. He saw the brilliant gem before him, but became mistrustful of his sight and the reality of the object before it; as a poor man hearing of his sudden elevation to royalty, mistrusts the report and doubts its being meant for him. 8. He was then immerged in himself to think with amazement for a long time, he overlooked and neglected to lay hold on his great gain, and kept dubitating in his mind in the following manner. 9. Whether this stone is gem or not, and if so, whether it be the philosopher's stone or any other; shall I touch it or not, for I fear lest it fly away from my touch or be soiled by it. 10. No one hath until this time obtained the long sought philosopher's stone, and if ever it was obtained by any one, it was, says the sastra, in his next life. 11. It is no doubt that my miserliness only, that makes me view aslant this brilliant gem before me with my eyes; as a purblind man sees a flashing fire-brand and deep-laid moon in the sky. 12. How could the tide of my fortune run so high at once, that I should succeed so soon to obtain the precious stone, that is the pink and acme of perfection and productive of all treasure. 13. There must be few and very few indeed of those fortunate men, who can expect their good fortune to court and wait on them; at a little pains in a short time. 14. I am but a poor and honest man, and one possest of very little qualification nor of any worth and account among mankind; and it is impossible that so miserable a wretch, could ever be blessed with this masterpiece of perfection. 15. The incredulous man hung for a long time in a state of suspense, between his certainty and uncertainty; and was infatuated by his mental blindness, that he did not even stretch out his hand to lay hold on the jewel lying open before him. 16. Hence whatever is obtainable by anyone at any time, is often missed and lost sight of by either his ignorance or negligence of it; as the precious gem in the parable, which was proffered and lay palpable in full view. 17. As the undetermined man hung in the balance of his suspicion, the precious gem flew away and vanished from his sight; as the merited man avoids his slighter, and as the shaft flies from its string or the stone from its sling. (Fly from the fool as the arrow flies from the bow-string). 18. When prosperity appears to one, she confers on him her blessings of wisdom and prudence &c.; but as she forsakes her foolish votary, she deprives him of all his discretion. (Such is the case with this once wise and afterwards foolish devotee of prosperity). 19. The man tried again to invoke and recall the precious gem to his presence, because the persevering spirit is never tired to try again and again for his expected success. 20. He came to behold before him a brittle piece of glass, shining with its false glare as the former gem; and this was placed in his presence by the invisible hands of the _siddha_ that had come to tempt him and deride his folly. 21. The fool thought this brittle thing to be the real gem now lying before him, as the ignorant sot believes the sparkling sands to be the dusts of the purest gold. 22. Such is the case with the deluded mind, that it mistakes the eight for six and a foe for a friend; it sees the serpent in the rope and views the desert land as the watery expanse, it drinks the poison for the nectar and spies another moon in the sky in the reflexion of the true one. 23. He took up that sham trumpery for a real gem, and thought it as the philosopher's stone that would confer on him whatever he desired; with this belief he gave up in charity all he had, as they were no more of any use to him. 24. He thought his country to be devoid of all that was delightsome to him and its people as debasing to his society; he thought his lost house was of no use to him, and his relatives and friends to be averse to his happiness. 25. Thus thinking in his mind, he determined to remove himself to a distant country and enjoy his rest there; and then taking his false gem with him, he went out and entered an uninhabited forest. 26. There his deceptive gem proving of no use to him loaded him all imaginable calamities, likening to the gloomy shadow of the black mountain and the horrid gloom of deep ignorance. 27. The affections which are brought to one by his own ignorance, are by far greater than those which are caused by his old age and the torments of death. The calamity of ignorance supercedes all other earthly affections, as the black hairs rise on the top of the body and cover the crown of the head. CHAPTER LXXXIX. THE PARABLE OF AN ELEPHANT. Argument:--Freedom of the Incarcerated Elephant; and his falling again into the Pit. Chúdálá said:--Hear O holy hermit! another very interesting story of mine, which well applies to your case; as the ruler of a land and to serve to awaken your understandings: (from its present theory). 2. There lived a large elephant in the Vindhya mountains, which was the head and leader of a great number of elephants; and had as clear an understanding in its big and elevated head, as the lofty summit of the mountain was humbled down at the bidding of Agastya--the sage. (Agastya is recorded as the first Aryan emigrant, who crossed the Vindhya and settled in southern India, and civilized the wild mountainous and rude people of Deccan by his wise law and instructions). 3. His two tusks were as strong as the thunderbolts of heaven, and as long and stunning as the far reaching flashes of lightning; they were as destructive as the flames of final desolation (kalpánta), and as piercing as to bore and uproot a mountain. 4. He came to be caught by an iron trap laid by elephant catchers in his way, and was fast held in it as the Vindhya by the Muni's charm; and as the giant Bali was bound in the chains of India. (Vindhya and its people were spell bound by the Agastya sage). 5. The captive and patient elephant was tormented by the iron goad in his proboscis, and suffered the excruciating pains of his torture; like the Tripura giant under the burning fire of Hara. (Siva is called Tripura-hara for his quelling that giant by his fire arms). 6. The elephant lay in this sad plight in the net for three days together, and was thus watched over by his hunter for a distance. (See the paper of elephant catching in the Asiatic Researches). 7. The great suffering of the elephant made him open his mouth widely, and utter a loud scream that growled about like the loud noise of roaring clouds. 8. Then he exerted the force of both his tusks, and succeeded thereby to break asunder the iron bar; as the Titan of old, broke open the bolts at the gate of heaven. 9. The hunter saw the breaking of his hard fetters by the infuriate beast from a distance, as Hara beheld the breaking of the demon Bali (Belos) from his subterranean cell beneath the mountain, in order to invade his heaven on high. 10. The elephant catcher then mounted a tall _tála_ (palm) tree, and leaped from its top in order to fall down on its head; but haplessly he fell down on the ground, as the demon was hurled down to hell by victorious Hara. 11. The hunter missed the head of the huge animal, and fell headlong upon his legs on the ground; as a ripe fruit, is dropped down by the hurrying winds. 12. The great elephant took pity in seeing him falling, and lying prostrate before him; as the mind of the noble, is compassionate on others even in their own piteous state. 13. The noble animal thought in his mind, that it was no valour on his part to trample over the self-fallen; and had thus the magnanimity of sparing the life of his own enemy. 14. He broke only the chains in two pieces, and took his way before him; leaving away all obstacles and barriers, as the rushing waters bear down the strongest bridge. 15. His strength broke the strong net, but his piety spared the life of the weak man; he went off as the sun sets, after dispelling the evening clouds. 16. The hunter rose up from the ground after he saw the elephant had gone away; and he found himself to be as same and sound after his fall as he had been before it; and as the elephant was relieved from his pains, after his liberation from the chains. 17. Notwithstanding with great shock which the man had felt by his fall from the tall palm tree, he felt no hurt with any part of his body; whence I ween, the bodies of scoundrels are fortified against every harm. 18. The wicked gain greater strength by execution of their repeated crimes, as the rainy clouds gather the more by their frequent showers. Thus the hunter went after his fresh excursion. 19. The elephant catcher felt very sorry, at the escape of the elephant and unsuccessfulness of his attempt; as one in dejected mind, is to lose a treasure that has fallen into his hand. 20. He sought about and beat the forest, to find out the hiding elephant amidst the thickets; as the ascending node of Rahu rises in the sky, to lay hold on the moon covered under the clouds. 21. After a long search, he came in sight of the elephant halting under a tree; as when a warrior returns from the battlefield, and breathes the air under a shady arbour. 22. The cunning huntsman collected a great many tools, capable to entrap the elephant at his resting place. 23. He dug a circular ditch round about that place in the forest, as the great creator of the world had stretched the ocean encircling this earth. 24. He then covered the great pit, with green branches and soft leaves of trees; as the season of autumn covers the face of the empty sky with fleecy and flimsy clouds. 25. The elephant roaming at large in the forest, happened to fall down into the pit one day; as the fragment of a rock on the coast, falls headlong on the dried bed of the sea. 26. The big elephant was thus caught in the circular pit, which was as deep as the dreadful depth of the sea; and lay confined in it, as some treasure is shut up in the hollow womb of a chest. 27. Being thus confined at the bottom of that far extending pit, still passes his time in endless trouble and anxiety; like the demon Bali in his dark cave under the grounds. 28. This is the effect of the silly elephant, letting unhurt his cruel hunter who had fallen ere long before him; or else he would not be thus pent up in the pit, if he made an end of him in time. 29. Hence all foolish people that had not foresight to prevent their future mishaps, and provide against their coming mischances by their precautions at present, are surely to be exposed like the calamity as the vindhyan elephant. (Hence all unforeseeing men are designated as _gaja murkha_ or elephantine fools). 30. The elephant was glad with the thought of his freedom from the hunter's chains, and thought no more of any future mishap; which was the sole cause of his being by another mischance, which lay at a long distance from him. 31. Know, O great soul! that there is no bondage of man except his own ignorance; and the jail prisoners are not under such thraldom, as the intellectual servitude of freemen under their errors and prejudice. The enlightenment of the soul and the knowledge of the cosmos as one universal soul, is the greatest freedom of man; while the ignorance of this truth, is the root of the slavery of mankind to the errors of this world. CHAPTER LXXXX. WAY TO OBTAIN THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. Argument:--Chúdálá's Interpretation of the Parable of the Precious stone and the Glassy Gewgaw. Sikhidhwaja said:--Please explain unto me, O Divine boy! the purport of the parables of the true and false gems; and the unfettered and pent up elephant, which you have spoken before to me. 2. Chúdálá replied:--Hear me now expound to you the meaning of my stories, and the purport of the words and their senses; which I have stored in your heart and mind, for the enlightenment of your understanding. 3. That searcher after the philosopher's stone, was undoubtedly acquainted with science, but had no knowledge of the truth (tatwajnána); he searched the gem but knew not what it was, and the same man is thyself. 4. You are versed in the sciences as he, and shinest above others as the shining sun on the mountain tops; but you have not that rest and quiet, which is derived from the knowledge of truth; and are immerged in your errors, as a block of stone in the water. 5. Know O holy man! that it is relinquishing of errors, which is said to be the philosopher's stone (because they are the only men that have set themselves above the reach of error). Try to get that O holy man! in your possession, and set yourself thereby above the reach of misery. 6. It is the relinquishment of gross objects, that produces the pure joy of holiness; it is the abandonment of the world, that gives one the sovereignty over his soul, and which is reckoned as the true philosopher's stone. 7. Abandonment of all is the highest perfection, which you must practice betimes; because it is contemning of worldly grandeur, that shows the greatest magnanimity of the soul. 8. You have O prince! forsaken your princedom together with your princess, riches, relatives and friends, and have rested in your resignation; as Brahmá the lord of creatures, rested at the night of cessation of the act of his creation. 9. You have come out too far from your country, to this distant hermitage of mine; as the bird of heaven the great _Garuda_ lighted with his prey of the tortoise, on the farthest mount of the earth. (The legend of Gaja-_kachchhapa_ borne by _Garuda_, is narrated at length in the _Purána_). 10. You have relinquished your egotism, with your abandonment of all worldly goods; and you purged your nature from every stain, as autumnal winds disperse the clouds from the sky. 11. Know that it is only by driving away the egoism of the mind as well as all desires from the heart, that one gets his perfection and has the fulness of the world or perfect bliss in himself. But you have been labouring under the ignorance of what is to be abandoned and what is to be retained, as the sky labours under the clouds. (It is not the abandonment of the world, but the greedy desires of the mind, that is attended with true felicity). 12. It is not your abandonment of the world, which can give you that highest felicity the _summum bonum_ that you seek; it is something else that must be yet sought after by you. (True happiness is a thing of heavenly growth, and is to be obtained by the grace of God only). 13. When the mind is overflown by its thoughts, and the heart is corroded by the canker of its desire; all its resignation flies from it, as the stillness of a forest flies before the tempest. 14. Of what avail is the abandonment of the world to one, whose mind is ever infested by his troublesome thoughts; it is impossible for a tree to be at rest, that is exposed to the tempests of the sky. (Inward passions disturb the breast, as tempests rend the sky). 15. The thoughts constitute the mind, which is but another name for will or desire; and so long as these are found to be raging in one, it is in vain to talk of the subjection of the mind. 16. The mind being occupied by its busy thoughts, finds the three worlds to present themselves before it in an instant; of what avail therefore is the abandonment of this world to one, when the infinite worlds of the universe are present before his mind. 17. Resignation flies on its swift pinions, soon as it sees a desire to be entertained in it; as a bird puts on its wings, no sooner it hears a noise below. 18. It is _insouciance_ and want of care, which is the main object of the abandonment of the world; but when you allow a care to rankle in your breast, you bid a fair adieu to your resignation; as one bid farewell to his honoured and invited guest. 19. After you have let slip the precious gem of resignation from your hand, you have chosen the false glossy gewgaw of austerity for some fond wish in your view. (All outward observances of rites and austerities proceed from some favourite object fostered in the mind, while the pure bliss of holiness is obtained from the purity of the heart only, and without any need of outward acts). 20. I see thy mind is fixed in wilful pains of thy austerities, as the sight of a deluded man is settled on the reflexion of the moon in the waters (from his error of its being the true moon). 21. Forsaking the indifference of your mind, you have become a follower of the prurience of your heart; and chosen for yourself the mortification of an anchorite, which is full of from its first to last. 22. He who forsakes the easy task of his devotion to God, which is fraught with infinite bliss; and betakes himself to the difficult duties of painful austerity, is said to make a suicide of his own soul. (The sruti calls them self-suicides (_átmaghanojánah_); who neglect the felicity of their souls). 23. You betook yourself to the vow of self-resignation, by your relinquishment of all earthly possessions; but instead of observing the forbearance of resignation, you are bound to the painful austerities of your asceticism in this dreary wilderness. 24. You broke the bonds of your princedom, and decamped from the bounds of your realm thinking them as too painful to you; but say are you not constrained here to the faster and far more irksome toils of your asceticism, and the unbearable chains of its rigid incarceration. 25. I think you are involved in much more care to defend yourself from heat and cold in the defenceless forest, and have come to find yourself to be more fast bound to your rigours than you had any idea of this before. 26. You thought in vain to have obtained the philosopher's stone before, but must have come to find at last; that your gain is not worth even a grain of glassy bauble. 27. Now sir, I have given you a full interpretation of the avidity of a man to pocket the invaluable gem; you have no doubt comprehended its right meaning in your mind, and will now store its purport in the casket of your breast. CHAPTER LXXXXI. INTERPRETATION OF THE PARABLE OF THE ELEPHANT. Argument:--Ignorance which is the cause of worldly desire, flies with loss of wishes. Chúdálá continued:--Hear me, O great prince! now explain to you the meaning of the story of the Vindhyan elephant, which will be as useful as it will appear wonderful to you. 2. That elephant of the vindhyan range, is thy very self in this forest; and his two strong tusks are no other than the two virtues of reasoning and resignation, on which you lay your strength. (_Viveka_ and _vairágya_ _i.e._ reason and resignation are the most potent arms of men). 3. The hunter that was the enemy of the elephant and waylaid him in his free rambles, is the personification of that great ignorance, which hath laid hold of thee for thy misery only. 4. Even the strong is foiled by weak, and lead from one danger to another and from woe to woe; as the strong elephant was led to by the weak huntsman, and as you O mighty prince! are exposed by your imbecile ignorance in this forest. 5. As the mighty elephant was caught in the strong iron chain, so are you held fast in the snare of your desire (of a future reward); which has brought all this calamity on you. 6. The expectation of man is the iron chain, that is stronger and harder and more durable than the other; the iron rusts and wastes away in time, but our expectations rise high and hold us faster. 7. As it was in the hostility of the huntsman, that he marked the elephant by his remaining unseen in his hiding place, so thy ignorance which lurks after thee, marks thee for his prey from a distance. 8. As the elephant broke the bonds of the iron chains of his enemy, so have you broken asunder the ties of your peaceful reign and the bonds of your royalty and enjoyments. 9. It is sometimes possible, O pious prince! to break down the bonds of iron fetters; but is impossible, O holy prince, to put a stop to our growing desires and fond expectations. 10. As the huntsman that had caught the elephant in the trap, fell down himself from on high to the ground; so was thy ignorance also levelled to the ground, seeing thee deprived of thy royalty and all thy former dignity. (The pride and ignorance of a man sinks down with his misfortune). 11. When the man who is disgusted with the world, wants to relinquish his desire of enjoyment, he makes his ignorance tremble in himself, as the demon that dwells on a tree, quakes with fear when the tree is felled. 12. When the self-resigned man, remains devoid of his desire for temporal enjoyments; he bids farewell to his ignorance, which quits him as the demon departs from the fallen tree. 13. A man getting rid of his animal gratifications, demolishes the abode of his ignorance from the mind; as a woodcutter destroys the bird-nests of the tree, which he has sawn or cut down on the ground. 14. You have no doubt put down your ignorance, by your resignation of royalty and resorting to this forest; your mind is of course cast down by it, but it is not yet destroyed by the sword of your resignation. (A cast down or sunken spirit or mind is not really killed, but revives and lives again in time). 15. It rises again and gains renewed strength and minding its former defeat, it has at last over powered on you by confining you in this wilderness; and restraining you in the painful dungeon of your false asceticism. 16. If you can but now kill your fallen ignorance in any way, it will not be able to destroy you at once in your rigorous penance; though it has reduced you to this plight by your abdication of royalty. 17. The ditch that the huntsman had dug to circumvent the elephant, is verily this painful pit of austerity, which thy ignorance has scooped to enthral you in. 18. The many provisions and supplies with which the huntsman had filled the hollow, in order to entice the elephant; are the very many expectations of future reward, which your ignorance presents before you, as the recompense of your penitence. 19. O prince, though you are not the witless elephant (gaja-murkha); yet you are not unlike the same, by your being cast in this forest by your incorrigible ignorance. 20. The ditch of the elephant, was verily filled with the tender plants and leaves for the fodder of the elephant; but your cave is full of rigorous austerities, which no humanity can bear or tolerate. 21. You are still encaged in this prison house of the ascetic's cell, and doomed to undergo all the imaginative torments of your penance and martyrdom. You verily resemble the fallen Bali, that is confined in his subterranean cell. 22. You are no doubt the empty headed elephant, that art fast bound in the chain of false rigours, and incarcerated in this cave of your ignorance; thus I have given the full exposition of the parable of the elephant of Vindhyan mountain, and now glean the best lesson for thyself from this. CHAPTER LXXXXII. THE PRINCE'S ABJURATION OF HIS ASCETICISM. Argument.--The prince coming to his sense, took all his relics of asceticism and set them on fire. Chúdálá continued:--Tell me prince, what made you decline to accept the advice of the princess _Chúdálá_, who is equally skilled in morality, as well as in Divine knowledge. 2. She is an adept among the knowers of truth, and actually practices all what she preaches to others; her words are the dictates of truth, and deserved to be received with due deference. 3. If you rejected her advice, by your over confidence in your own judgment; yet let me know, why she prevented you not, from parting with your all to others. (There is a proverb that men should rely on their own judgment and that of their elders; but never on those of other people and women). 4. Sikhidhwaja replied:--But I ask you another question, and hope you will reply to it, _i.e._ how do you say that I have not relinquished my all, when I have resigned my realm, my habitation and my country all together; and when I left my wife and all my wealth behind. 5. Chúdálá replied:--You say truly O prince! that you have forsaken your kingdom and habitation, and your lands and relatives, and even your wife and wealth, but that does not make your relinquishment of all, since none of these truly belong to thee; they come of themselves and go away from man; it is your egoism only which is yours, and which you have not yet got rid of. 6. You have not yet abandoned your egoism, which is the greatest delight of your soul; you cannot get rid of your sorrows, until you are quite freed from your egoistic feelings. 7. Sikhidhwaja said:--If you say that my kingdom and possession, were not my all, and that this forest which I have resorted to forms my all at present; and these rocks and trees and shrubs form my present possessions, then I am willing to quit all these even, if that would constitute resignation of all. 8. Vasishtha said:--Hearing these words of the Bráhman boy--Kumbha, the cold blooded prince Sikhidhwaja held silence for a while, and returned no answer. 9. He wiped off his attachment to the forest from his heart, and made up his mind to slide away from it; as the current of a stream in the rainy weather, glides along and carries down the dust and dirt of the beach. 10. Sikhidhwaja said:--Now sir, I am resolved to leave this forest, and bid adieu to all its caves and arbours; say now does not this relinquishment of all, form my absolute abnegation of all things. 11. Kumbha replied:--The foot of this mountain with all its wood-lands, arbours and caverns are no properties of yours, but the common fells and dales of all; how then can your forsaking of them, form your self-abnegation at all? 12. The best boon of your egoism which has fallen to your lot, is still unforsaken by you; you must get rid of this, in order to be freed from the cares and sorrows of this sublunary world of woes. 13. If none of these things is mine, then my hermit's cell and grove, which I own as mine are what I am willing to resign, if that would make my total abnegation. 14. Vasishtha said:--The self-governed Sikhidhwaja being awaked to his sense, by these admonitions of Kumbha--the Bráhman boy; he remained silent for a moment, with the light that shone within him. 15. His pure conscience returned to his mind, and the blaze of his right knowledge, burnt away the dross of his attachment to the hermitage; as a gust of wind drives the dusts from the ground. 16. Sikhidhwaja said:--Know me sir, to have now taken away my heart from this hermitage, and forsaken my attachment to all its sacred bowers and arbours; now therefore consider me to have resigned my all and every thing in world. 17. Kumbha replied:--How can I consider you as fully resigned, by your resigning these groves and arbours and everything appertaining to them; none of which belong to you, nor are you their master or deserter in anyway. (Know there is but one being, who is the sole master of all). 18. Thou hast another thing to be forsaken by thee, and that is the greatest and best thing that has fallen to thy lot in this world; it must be by your resignation of that thing, that you can set yourself free from all. (The prince was so very infatuated with his knowledge of the gross sensibles, that he would never come to know what egoism meant). 19. Sikhidhwaja said:--If this even be not the all that I have, and which you want me to resign; then take these earthen pots and basins, these hides and skins and this my cell also, and know me to forgo all these forever and betake myself elsewhere. 20. Vasishtha said:--So saying the dispassionate prince rose from his seat, with his composed and quiet mind; as when an autumnal cloud rises on the top of a mountain, and disperses elsewhere. 21. Kumbha saw from his seat, the motions and movements of the prince, with her smiles and amazement, as when the sun laughs from above, to see the foolish attempts of men on the earth below. 22. Kumbha looked steadfastly on Sikhidhwaja, and sat silently with the thought, "Ah! let him do whatever he likes for his sanctification and renunciation of the temporal articles of this world, which do not serve for his spiritual edification at all." 23. Sikhidhwaja then brought out all his sacred vessels and seats from his grotto, and collected them all in one spot; as the great ocean yielded up all her submerged treasures, after the diluvian flood was over. 24. Having collecting them in a pile, he set fire to them with dried fuel; as the sun-stone or sun-glass burns down the combustible by its fire. 25. The sacred vessels and chattels which were set on fire and burnt down by it, were left behind by the prince who sat on a seat beside Kumbha; as the sun sets on the mount Meru, after he had burnt down in the world by the fire of dissolution. 26. He said to his rosary, you have been confident to me your master, as long as I turn you on my fingers as my counting beads. 27. And though I have turned you over and over, with my sacred mantras in this forests; yet you have been of no service to me at all. 28. And though I have travelled with you, Oh my reliquary! and seen many holy places in thy company; but as you proved of no good to me, I now resign you to the flames. 29. The burning fire rose in flames and flashes in the sky, and they appeared as stars glittering in it; he then cast his seat of the deer's skin on the fire, and said: I have borne you about me so long on my back as an ignorant stag. 30. It was by my ignorance, that I held you so long with me; and now you are at liberty to go your own way; where may peace and bliss attend on you forever. 31. Ascend with the rising fire to heaven, and twinkle there as the stars on high; so saying he took off his hide garment from his body with his hands, and committed it to the flames. 32. The funeral pyre of the prince spread as a sea of fire and it was driven about as a conflagration by the winds blowing from the mountains; when the prince thought of throwing his water pot also into the fire. 33. And said to it, you sir, that bore the sacred water for all my sacerdotal functions; O my good water pot, it is true that I have not the power of rendering the proper recompense of your past services. 34. You were the best model of true friendship, good nature, benevolence and constancy to me; and the best exemplar of goodness and all good qualities in thy great bounty. 35. O thou! (my water pot), that wast the receptacle of all goodness to me; now depart your own way, by your purification in the same sacred fire, as thou wast at first found by me (from the potter's fire). Be thy ways all blissful to thee! so saying he cast his water pot into the consecrated fire. 36. Because all good things are to be given to the good or to the fire; but all bad things are cast off, like the dust of the earth; and as foolish men fall to the ground, by their secret craft. 37. It is well for thee, my low mattress, to be put to fire and reduced to worthless ashes; so saying, he took up his wet matted seat, and cast it into the flaming fire. 38. The seat on which he used to sit in his pure meditation on God (_i.e._ his _kusásana_ or his seat made of kusa-grass), he soon committed to the flames; because it is better to give up a thing betimes, of which one must get rid shortly afterwards. 39. This my alms-pot which contained the best articles of food, which were presented to me by good people; I now commit to this flame with whatever it has in it. 40. The fire burns a thing but once, and the burnt article ceases to burn any more; hence I shun all the implements to my ceremonial rites, in order to set me free from the bondage of all actions for ever more. 41. Be ye not sorry therefore, that I forsake you thus; for who is there, that will bear about him things that are unworthy of himself. 42. So saying, he threw into the fire all his cooking vessels, and the plates and dishes of his kitchen; and all things whatever he had need of in his hermitage. And these began to burn in a blaze, us the world was burnt down by the all destructive fire of the kalpánta. CHAPTER LXXXXIII. ADMONITION OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--As the prince was going to immolate himself after this, he is recalled from his rashness by the wisdom of his young monitor, who admonishes him to the relinquishment of his mind and not of the body. Vasishtha said:--He then rose up and set fire to his hut of dry leaves and grass, as it is the case with foolish men very often to demolish the structure of their own fancy and caprice. (_i.e._ To undo the doings of their own hobbies and wild imagination). 2. Whatever else there was left beside aught of the chattels and goods of the hermit Sikhidhwaja took them all one after another, and set fire to them with his composed and unconcerned mind, and observing a strict taciturnity all the while. 3. He burnt and broke down every thing, and then flung away from him his eatables and preserved condiments; his clothings and all, with a quite content state of his mind. (This unconcerned state of the mind is called _avahittha_ or insouciance; which cares for no mortal thing). 4. The hermitage was now turned to a desolation, for its having been a human habitation awhile before; and resembled the relics of the sacrificial pavilion of Daksha, after its devastation by the all-devouring fire of Vírabhadra. (The legend of _Daxa-yajna-bhanga_, forms the subject of many Puránas, poems and dramas, but the mystery and allegory of the fable remains as dark and inexplicable as the Runic characters). 5. The timorous fawns being affrighted at the lighted fire, left their lairs where they lay chewing the cud at their ease; and fled afar to distant deserts, as the townsmen free from a burning quarter to distant abodes. 6. Seeing the vessels and utensils to be all in a blaze, with the fuel of the dry woods on all sides; the prince seemed to remain quite content and careless amidst the scene, with the possession of his body only. 7. Sikhidhwaja said:--I am now become an all abandoning saint, by my abandonment of all desire and every object; and wonder that I should after so long a period of my life, be awakened to my right knowledge, by the holy lectures of my heavenly child. 8. I have now become a pure and perfect unit, and quite conscious of the ineffable joy in myself; of what use and to what good, are all these appendages of my ever varying desires to me. (No temporal object, leads to our permanent good; save our own bodies, which feel the inward bliss of the soul). 9. As the knots of the chain that bind the soul to this world, are cut asunder and fall off one after another; so the mind comes to feel its quiet composure, until it attains to its ultimate rest and inaction. 10. I am quite composed, and in perfect ease with the extinction of my desires; I am joyous and rejoice in myself, that my ties are all broken and fallen off from me; and that I have at last, fully accomplished the abandonment of all things (_sarva tyaga_). 11. I am become as nude as the open sky, and as roofless as the vault of vacuity; I view the wide world as an expanse of vacuum, and myself as a nullity within the whole inanity; say, O divine boy! is there anything still wanting to my complete renouncement of all. 12. Kumbha replied:--Yet you must be aware! O prince Sikhidhwaja! that you are never released from all the bonds of this life, by your renunciation of every mortal thing; appertaining to this your mortal and transitory state of your being. 13. I see the gravity and purity of the nature of your soul, which is placed far above the reach and track of the commonality; by its abandonment of the innumerable seeds and sprouts of fond desires, which incessantly rise as thistles and thorns on the human breast. (If virtue we plant not, vice will fill the place; and the rankest weeds, the richest soils deface). 14. Vasishtha said:--On hearing these words of Kumbha, the prince Sikhidhwaja reflected on its purport within himself for a short while; he spoke these words in reply as you shall, oh mighty armed Ráma, now hear from me. (_i.e._ The prince was not so very easily prevailed upon by his eloquent monitor). 15. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me, O heaven born child! what else dost thou see remaining in me; except the serpentine entrails within myself, and supporting the body composed of a heap of flesh, blood and bones. 16. And if this body reckoned an appendage to myself, I will then ascend to the top of this mountain, and let it fall to be dashed to pieces on the ground; and thus get rid of my mortal part for ever. 17. Saying so, as he was proceeding to immolate his body on the craggy hill before him; he was interrupted by his monitor Kumbha, who spoke to him as follows:-- 18. Kumbha said:--What is it prince that you are going to do, why do you attempt to destroy this innocent body of yours from this hideous height, as the enraged bull hurls its calf below the hill? 19. What is this body, but a lump of dull and gross matter, a dumb and poor painstaking thing; it never does you any harm, nor can you ever find any fault in it; why then do you wish in vain to destroy so harmless and faultless a thing? 20. It is of itself a dull and dumb thing (as your beast of burden); it ever remains in its torpid meditative mood, and is moved to and fro by other agencies; as a plank is tossed up and down, by the adverse current and waves in the sea. 21. He who hurts or annoys his inoffensive body, deserves to be put to torturous punishment; like the ruffian rogue who robs and annoys the holy saint, sitting in his solitary cell. 22. The body is quite guiltless of all the pain and pleasure, which betide the living soul by turns; as the tree is wholly unconcerned with the fall of its fruits and leaves, which are dropped down by the blowing winds. 23. You see the gusts of winds dropping down the fruits, flowers and leaves of trees; then tell me, O holy men! how you can charge your innocent tree, with the fault of letting fall its best produce. 24. Know it for certain, O lotus eyed prince! that the immolation of your body even, is not enough to make your total renouncement of all things, _sarva tyága_ you must know is not an easy matter. 25. It is in vain that you intend, to destroy this inoffensive body of yours on this rock; your quitting or getting rid of your body, does not cause your renunciation and freedom from all. (Death releases us from the bondage of the body, but not from the stings of conscience). 26. There is an enemy of this body which agitates it, as an elephant shakes a huge tree; if you can but get rid of that mortal enemy of your body and soul, you are then said to be freed from all. 27. Now prince, it is by avoiding this inveterate enemy of yours, that you are freed from the bondage of your body, and everything besides in this world; or else however you may kill your body, you can never put a stop to its regrowth (in some form or other). 28. Sikhidhwaja rejoined:--What is it then that agitates the body and what is the root of our transmigrations and of the doings and sufferings of our future lives? And what is it by the avoidance of which, we avoid and forsake everything in the world? 29. Kumbha replied:--Know, holy prince, that it is neither the forsaking of your realm nor that of your body, nor the burning of your hut and chattels, nor all these things taken together, that can constitute your renouncement of all and everything. 30. That which is all and every where, is the one only cause of all; it is by resigning everything in that sole existent being, that one becomes the renouncer of all. 31. Sikhidhwaja said:--You say that there is an all--_to-pan_, which is situated in all to whom all things are to be resigned at all times. Now sir, you that know all, what this all or omnium can be. 32. Kumbha replied:--Know, O holy man, this all pervading being is known under the various appellations of the living soul jíva, the life Prána and many more also; it is neither an active or inactive principle, and is called the mind which is ever liable to error. 33. Know the mind to be the seat of illusion, and to make the man by itself; it is the essential constituent of every person, and the speculum of all these worlds in itself. 34. Know the mind, as the source of your body and estates; and know it also, as the root of your hermitage and everything else; just as one tree bears the seed of another. (The ingrained desire of the mind is the seed of all extraneous accidents). 35. It is therefore by your giving up this seed of all events, that you really resign everything in the world, which is contained in and depends on this primary seed and mainspring of the mind. All possible as well as impossible renunciations, depend on the resignation of the mind. 36. The man that is under the subjection of his mind, is ever subject to cares, both when he is attentive to his duties or negligent of them; as also when he rules his realm, or flies from it to a forest; but the man of a well governed mind, is quite content in every condition of life. 37. It is the mind which revolves incessantly in the manner of the rotatory world, and evolves itself in the form of the body and its limbs; as the minute seed displays itself in the shape of a tree and its branches and leaves. 38. As the trees are shaken by the blowing winds, and as the mountains are shook by the bursting earthquakes; and as the bellows are blown by the inflated air, so is the animated body moved about by the mobile force of the mind. 39. These miserable mortals that are born to death and decay, and those happy few that live to enjoy the pleasures of life; and the great sages of staunch hearts and souls, are all of them bound alike to the thraldom of their minds. (The mind governs all, and there are few to govern it). 40. The mind acts its several parts, in all the various forms and figures of the stage of the world; it shows its gestures in the motions of the body, it lives and breathes in the shape of the living spirit, and it thinks and cogitates in the form of the mind. (The mind and the heart, the living soul and the active body, are all the one and same thing). 41. It takes the different epithets of the understanding _buddhi_, consciousness _mahat_, egoism _ahamkára_, the life or _prána_ and the intellect, agreeably to its sundry internal functions in the body, or else it is the silent soul, when it is without any action to be assigned to it. 42. The mind is said to be all in all, and by getting release of this, we are released of all diseases and dangers; and then we are said to have avoided and abandoned all and every thing. 43. O ye, that want to know what resignation is, must know that it is the resignation of the mind, which makes your renunciation of all things. If you succeed in the abnegation of your mind, you come to know the truth, and feel the true felicity of your soul. 44. With the riddance of your mind, you get rid of the unity and duality of creeds, and come to perceive all diversities and pluralities blend in one universal whole; which is transcendental tranquillity, transparent purity and undiminished felicity: (which is _anámaya_ without alloy). 45. The mind is the field for the course of every body, in his career in this world; but if this field be over grown with thorns and brambles, how can you expect to grow rice in it? 46. The mind shows its manifold aspects, and plays its many parts at will; it turns and moves in the forms of things, as the waters roll in the shapes of waves. 47. Know young prince, that your abandonment of all things by the resignation of your mind, will redound to your joy, not unequal to that of your gaining a kingdom to your self. 48. In the matter of self-abnegation, you are on the same footing with other men; in that you resign whatever you dislike, and want to have some thing that you have a liking for. 49. He who connects all the worlds with himself, as the thread that connects the pearls in a necklace, is the man that possesses everything, by renouncing all things from himself. (This is the attribute of _sutrátmá_--the connecting thread of the supreme soul, which unites all units to it, by living all things as apart from it). 50. The soul that is unattached to all things, doth yet connect and pass alike through them all; as the thread of the divine soul, connects the world as a string of pearls. (It spreads unspent). 51. The soul that bears no attachment to the world, is like an oilless lamp that is soon extinguished to darkness; but the spirit that is warm with its affections, likens an oily lamp, that burns with universal love, and enlightens all objects about it. 52. The lord that lives aloof from all, resembles the oilless lamp in dark obscurity; but the same Lord manifesting himself in all things, resembles the oily lamp that lights every object. (The two hypostases of the supreme spirit--the unknowable and the Manifest, the aprakásátmá and the saprakásátmá). 53. As after the relinquishment of all your possessions (both in your estate as also in this forest), you still remain by yourself; so after your resignation of your body, mind and all, you have still your consciousness by you, which you can never get rid of. 54. As by the burning of your articles, you have burnt no part of your body; so by your resignation of all things, you can not resign yourself or your soul, which would then amount to _nirvána_ or utter extinction (which is tantamount to _moksha_ or ultimate absorption in the supreme spirit). 55. Sarvatyága or total abnegation, means the voidance of the soul of all its worldly attachment, when it becomes the seat of all knowledge; and likens to the etherial paradise of the hosts of celestial beings. 56. Sarvatyága or self-abnegation is like the water immortality, which drives away all fear of disease and death by a single draught of it; and it remains untouched by the cares of the world, as the clear firmament is untinged by the spots of clouds. 57. Sarvatyága again is the entire abandonment of all affections, gives a man his true greatness and glory; and as you get rid of your temporary affections, so you get the stability of your understanding, and the firmness of your determination. 58. Sarvatyága or abandonment of all, is fraught with perfect delight; as its contrary is attended with extreme misery. This is a certain truth, and knowing as such, choose what you think best for you. 59. He who gives away his all in this life, comes to be in possession of them in his future state; as the rivers which pour their waters into the sea, are again filled by its flood tide. 60. After resignation of all things from the mind, its hollowness is filled with full knowledge of them, which is highly gratifying to the soul; as an empty box, is stored with rich gems and jewels in it. 61. It was by virtue of his resignation of all things, that Sákyamuni became dauntless amidst the troubles of the Kali-age, and sat as firm as a rock. (Hence the yogis of prior ages, have remained as pure air). 62. Total resignation of all things, is tantamount to the acquisition of all prosperity; because the lord gives every thing to him, who dedicates and devotes his all unto Him. 63. You have now, O prince, become as quiet as the calm atmosphere, after your abandonment of all things; now try to be as graceful as the lightsome moon, by the complaisance of your manners. 64. Now, O high minded prince, forget at once your past abdication of your crown and kingdom, as also your subsequent of all things in this hermitage; drive away the pride of your total abandonment of all you had, and be of a clear and complacent countenance. CHAPTER LXXXXIV. ENLIGHTENMENT OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--On the abandonment of the affections of the mind. Vasishtha continued:--As the disguised boy was admonishing in this manner on the relinquishment of mind (_i.e._ the mental passions and affections); the prince ruminated inwardly on its sense, and then spoke as follows. 2. Sikhidhwaja said:--I find my mind fluttering always, as a bird in the open sky of my bosom; and lurking incessantly as an ape, in the wilderness of my heart. 3. I know how to restrain my mind, as they do the fishes in the net; but know not how to get rid of it, when it is so much engaged with the objects of sense. 4. Please sir acquaint me first with the nature of the mind, and then teach me the method of relinquishing it for ever from me. 5. Kumbha replied:--Know great prince, cupidity to be the intrinsic nature of the mind; and know the word desire to be used as a synonym for the mind. (The mind and will are synonymous terms). 6. The abandonment of the mind is very easy, and more facile than the stirring of it; it is attended with a greater delight, than the possession of a kingdom can afford, and is more pleasant than the scent of fragrant flowers. 7. But it is very difficult for the ignorant, to get rid of or forsake the desires of their minds; it is as hard to them as it is for a boor to wield the reins of a kingdom, and for a heap of grass to be as high as a mountain. 8. Sikhidhwaja said:--I understand the nature of the mind, to be replete with its desires; but I find my riddance from it, to be as impossible as the swallowing of an iron-bolt by anybody. 9. I find the mind as the fragrant flower in the great garden of the world, and the crater of the fire of all our woes; it is the stalk of the lotus of the world, and it is the bag that bears and blows the gusts of delusion all over the world. Now tell me how this thing may be easily removed from us. 10. The mind is the locomotive engine of the body, it is the bee that flutters about the lotus of the heart; now tell me how I may with ease get rid of this mind. 11. Kumbha answered:--The total extirpation of the mind, consists in the entire extinction of the world from it; the learned and the men of long foresight, call this to be the abandonment of the mind (_i.e._ when it is cast out with all its thoughts and cares). 12. Sikhidhwaja rejoined:--I think the extinction of the mind, is better than our abandonment of it, on account of securing the success of our purposes; but how can we know the gradual expurgation of the mind, from the hundreds of diseases to which it is subject. 13. Kumbha replied:--Egoism is the root (seed) of the arbour of the mind, with all its branches and leaves and fruits and flowers; therefore root out the mind with its very root of egoism, and have thy breast as clear as the empty and lurid sky. 14. Sikhidhwaja rejoined:--Tell me, O sage, what is the root of the mind, what are its sprouts and fruits; tell me also how many stems and branches it has, and how is it possible to root it out at once. 15. Kumbha replied:--Know prince that egoism and all the words expressive of the self as meity &c., and indicative of the mind, are the seeds of the tree of the mind. 16. The field of its growth is the supreme soul, which is the common source of all entities; but that field being filled with illusion, the mind is deluded to believe itself as the first born sprout springing out of this field. (The first born germ of the Divine spirit being the living soul, which originates in the mind). 17. The certain knowledge of the mind in its discrete state, is called its understanding (which in its concrete state is known as sensation); the _buddhi_ or understanding is the state of maturity of the germ or sprout of the mind. (The infant mind is ripens into the understanding). 18. The understanding or _buddhi_, being subject to various desires, takes the name of chitta or wasteful mind; and this mind makes the living being, which is as hollow within it, as a carved image of stone (or moulded metal), and a mere false conception. 19. The body is the stem of this tree of the mind, and is composed of the skin and bones and juicy matters. 20. The branches of the tree of the mind, extend to a great distance all about it; and so the sensible organs of the body, protruding wide about it, perish at last in seeking for its enjoyment. 21. Now try to lop off the branches of the tree of thy mind, and try also to root out the noxious tree at once. 22. Sikhidhwaja said:--I can some how or other lop off the branches of the tree of mind, but tell me, O my sagely monitor, how I may be able to pull it out by its very root at once. 23. Kumbha replied:--All our desires are the several branches of this tree, which are hanging with loads of fruits; and are lopped off by the axe of our reason. 24. He alone is able to lop off the plant of his mind, who is unattached to the world, who hold his taciturnity and inward tranquillity, who is judicious in all discussions, and does whatever offers of itself to him at any time. 25. He who lops off the branches and brambles of the arbour of his mind, by his manliness of reason and discretion; is able also to root out this tree at once from his heart. 26. The first thing to be done with the mind, is to root it out at once from the heart and the next process is to lop off its branches; therefore employ thyself more to its eradication, than to the severing of its boughs and branches. 27. You may also burn it as the first step, instead of lopping the branches; and thus the great trunk of the tree of mind being reduced to ashes, there remains an entire mindlessness at last. 28. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me O my sagely guide, what is that fire which is able to burn away the seed of the tree of mind, which is covered all over with the cuticle of egoism. 29. Kumbha replied:--Prince, the fire which is able to consume the seed of the noxious plant of the mind, is the expostulation of the question, "what am I that bear this corporeal form upon me." 30. Sikhidhwaja said:--O sage! I have repeatedly considered the questions in my own understanding, and found that my egoism does not consist in aught of this world, or this earth, or the woods which form its garniture. 31. That my ego lay no where in the hills and forests where I resided, nor in the shaking of the leaves before me; nor did it lie in any part of my gross body, or in its flesh, bones or blood. 32. It does not lie in any of the organs of action, nor in the organs of sensation; it does not consist in the mind or in the understanding, or in any part of the gross body. 33. As we see the form of the bracelet in gold, so do I conceive my egoism to consist in the intelligent soul; because it is impossible for any material substance, to have anything as intelligence (as I perceive my egoism to be possest of). 34. All real existence depends on the supreme soul for its subsistence, so all real entities subsist in the supreme essence; or else it is impossible for any thing to exist in a nullity, as there is no possibility for a forest to subsist in a vacuity (without a firm ground). 35. Thus sir, knowing it full well, that my egoism is an aspect or shadow of my internal soul and worthy to be wiped off from it; yet I regret at my ignorance of the intrinsic spirit from which it is to be wiped off, and the internal soul be set in full light. 36. Kumbha replied:--If you are none of these material objects as you say, nor doth your egoism consist in materiality; then tell me prince, what you think yourself to be in reality. 37. Sikhidhwaja answered:--I feel myself O most learned sir, to be that intelligent and pure soul, which is of the form of intelligence, which acquaints me of all existence, and which discriminates their different natures. 38. I perceive thus my egoism to be attached to my body, but whether it is a caused or causeless principle, is what I am perfectly ignorant of. 39. I am unable O sage, to rub out this sense of my egoism as an unreality and unessentiality; and it is on that I greatly regret in myself (for my inability to get rid of my egoism as you led). 40. Kumbha said:--Tell me O prince, what is that great foulness, which thou feelest to be attached to thee, which makes thee act as a man of the world, and whether thou thinkest it as something or a mere delusion. 41. Sikhidhwaja replied:--The sense of my egoism, which is the root of the tree of my mind, is the great foulness that attaches to me; I know not how to get rid of it, for however I try to shun it, the more it clings about me. 42. Kumbha said:--Every effect is produced from some cause or other, and this is the general law of nature everywhere; anything otherwise is as false as the sight of a second moon in the sky, which is nothing but a reflexion of the true moon. 43. It is the cause which produces the effect, whether it be a big one or the small rudiment of it; therefore explore into the cause of your egoism, and tell me what it is. 44. Sikhidhwaja replied:--I know my sagely guide, that it is mere illusion--_máyá_, which is the cause of the fallacy of my egoism; but tell me sir, how this error of mine is to subside and vanish away from one. 45. It is from the proclivity of the mind towards the thinkables, that I am suffering all these pains and pangs within myself; now tell me O muni, about the means of suppressing my thoughts, in regard to external objects. 46. Kumbha said:--Tell me whether your thinking and knowing, are the causes of your thinkables and knowables, or these latter actuate your thinking and knowing powers. If you can tell me this, then shall I be able to explain to you the process of the cause and effect. 47. Now tell me which do you think to be the cause and not the cause, of knowing and knowable, and of thinking and the thinkable, which are the subjects of my question to you. 48. Sikhidhwaja answered:--I think, O sage, that the sensible objects of the body &c., are the causes of the thinking and thinkable (thoughts), and of knowing and the knowables or knowledge. (Because unless there be things in actual existence, we can neither think of or know anything, nor have any idea or knowledge of it at all). 49. Our knowledge of the entity of things, appears only in the sensible forms of bodies; or else the mere abstract thought of a thing, is as empty as an airy nothing. 50. As I can not conceive the non-entity of a positive entity, nor the abstract nature of a concrete body; so I know not how my egoism, which is the seed of my mind, can be at once ignored by me. 51. Kumbha said:--If thou rely on thy material body as a real existence, then tell me, on what does your knowledge depend, when your soul is separated from the body. 52. Sikhidhwaja replied:--The body which is evident to view, and a real entity, cannot be taken for an unreality by any body; as the palpable sun light, cannot be called darkness by any man of common sense. 53. Who can ignore the body, which is replete with its hands and feet and other members; which is full of activity and vivacity, and whose actions are so palpable to sight; and which is so evident to our perception and conception. 54. Kumbha said:--Know prince, that nothing can be said to exist, which is not produced by some cause; and the knowledge or consciousness that we have of it, cannot be but the product of mistake and error. 55. There can be no product without a similar cause, and no material form can come out from a formless and immaterial agent. How can any thing come to existence, without having its seed of the like nature? 56. Whatever product appears to present itself to anyone without its true cause, is as false an appearance as the mirage in the sand, before its deluded observer. 57. Know thyself to be no real existence, but a false shape of your error only; and with whatever earnestness you took to it, you will never get any water from this delusive mirage. 58. Sikhidhwaja said:--It is as useless to inquire the cause of a nonentity, as it is fruitless to look into the origin of the secondary moon which is but false reflex of the true one. Believing in a nullity, is as decorating the person of a barren woman's son. 59. Kumbha replied:--The body with its bones and ribs, are products of no assignable cause; therefore know it as no entity, because it is impossible for the frail body to be the work of an Everlasting Maker. 60. Sikhidhwaja said:--Now tell me sir, why we should not reckon our fathers the causes and producers of our bodies, with all their members and parts, since they are known as the immediate causes of these. 61. Kumbha replied:--The father can be nothing and no cause, without his having another cause for himself; because whatever is without a cause is nothing in itself. 62. The causes of all things and effects are called as their seeds, and when there is no seed in existence, it is impossible for a germ to be produced in the earth from nothing. (Ex nihilo nihil fit). 63. So when you cannot trace out the cause of an event, account the event as no event at all; because there can be no thing without its seed, and the knowledge of a causeless effect or eventuality, is an utter impossibility and fallacy of the understanding. 64. It is an egregious error to suppose the existence of a thing without its cause or seed, such as to suppose the existence of two moons in the sky, of water in the mirage and of the son of a barren woman. 65. Sikhidhwaja said:--Now tell me sir, why should not our parents be taken as the causes of our production, who had our grandfathers and grandmothers for the causes or seeds of their birth likewise; and why should we not reckon our first great grandfather (Brahmá), as the prime progenitor of the human race? 66. Kumbha replied:--The prime great grandfather, O prince, cannot be the original cause, since he also requires a cause for his birth, or else he could not come into existence. 67. The great grandfather of creation even Brahmá himself, is the cause of production by means of the seeds of the supreme spirit which produced him; or else the visible form in which he appeared, was no more than a mere delusion. 68. Know the form of the visible world, to be as great a fallacy as the appearance of water in the mirage; and so the creativeness of the great grandfather Brahmá, is no more than an erroneous misconception. 69. I will now wipe off the dark cloud of your error, that our great grandfather Brahmá was conceived in the womb of the supreme spirit (whereby he is styled the _padma_-yoni or born of the lotus like navel string of God); and this will be the salvation of your soul. (And Adam's ancestors without end. Young). 70. Now therefore know, O prince, that the lord God shines forever with his intelligent soul and mind in Himself; it is from him that the lotus born Brahmá and the whole universe, are manifest to our view, and that there is nothing which exhibits itself without Him. CHAPTER LXXXXV. THE _anaesthetic_ PLATONISM OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--Dispersion of the gloom of ignorance from the mind of Sikhidhwaja. His coming to the Light of Truth and the Tranquillity of his soul. Sikhidhwaja said:--If the view of the whole universe is but a phantom, and our knowledge of myself, thyself and of this and that, is but an error of our mind, then why is it that we should be concerned about or sorry for anything. 2. Kumbha replied:--The erroneous impression of the existence of the world, has so firmly laid hold of the minds of men; as the frozen water appearing as crystal, is believed as dry land by people. 3. It is said by the learned, that the knowledge of gross matter is lost with the dispersion of ignorance; and that there is no other way of getting rid of this long contracted prejudice, without our riddance from ignorance. 4. It is the acuteness of the understanding, which is the only means of our coming to the knowledge of truth; that the creation and dissolution of the world, are dependant on the will and causality of the supreme Being. 5. He whose understanding becomes, is sure to lose his rooted prejudice by degrees; and come to the knowledge of the nihility of the material world. 6. In this way of refining your mind from its prepossession of gross ideas, you will come to find the erroneous conception of a prime male (ádipurusha), as that of Brahmá (or Adam) as the first creative power, to be as false as the water in the mirage. 7. The great grandfather of the world being a nullity, the creation of all creatures by him (who is thence called _Prajápatih_ or lord of creatures); is likewise as false and null, as it is absurd for an impossibility to come into being. 8. The perception of a thing _in esse_, is as false as the conception of water in the mirage; a little reflexion is enough to remove this error, like the mistake of silver in cockles and conch-shells. 9. Any work which appears to exist without its cause, is only a phantom of fallacy, and has no essential form whatever in reality. 10. Whatever is done by one's erroneous knowledge or mistake of a thing, comes to be of no use to him; as the attempt to fill a pot with the water of the mirage, proves to be utterly vain. 11. Sikhidhwaja said:--Why can't we call the supreme Brahma, to be the cause of Brahmá--the first creator of the world who is called the son of God, the one unborn and without end, and the inexpressible and everlasting. 12. Kumbha replied:--The God Brahma, being neither the cause nor the effect of any action, is but an invariable unity and transcendent spirit, and is never the cause or effect of anything. 13. How can the incomprehensible and unknowable Brahma, be designated as the creator, when he is not predicable by any of the predicates of the creator or created or as the instrument or cause of anything. 14. The world having no separate cause, is no separate product of any causality whatever; it is no duality but one with the unity, without its beginning or end, and co-eternal with the eternal one. (_To pan_--God is all in all). 15. He that is inconceivable and unknowable, is perfect felicity, tranquillity and ever undecaying, and can never be the active or passive agent of anything, on account of the immutability of his nature. 16. Hence there is nothing as a creation, and the visible world is but a nihility, and the Lord God is neither an active nor passive agent, but quite still and full of bliss. 17. There being no causal power, the world is not the production of any body; it is our error only that this world as a production without any assignable cause. 18. The uncaused world is the product of nothing, and therefore nothing in itself; for if it be the production of nobody, it is a nullity like its cause also. 19. The non-existence of anything or the not being of everything (except that of the supreme Being), being proved as a certain truth; we can have no conception of anything, and the absence of such conception, it is in vain to suppose the existence of an egoism or tuism. 20. Sikhidhwaja said:--Sir, I now perceive the truth, and find the reasonableness of all that you have said; I see now that I am the pure and free soul, and quite aloof of any bondage or its liberation from bonds. 21. I understand Brahma as no cause of anything, for his entire want of causality; and the world is a nullity for its want of a cause, and therefore there is no being whatever which we reckon as a category. 22. Thence there is no such category as the mind or its seed, nor its growth nor decay; I therefore bow down to myself of which alone I have a consciousness in me. 23. I am alone conscious of myself, existence in myself and have no real knowledge of any thing else beside me, and which appear as fleeting clouds in the womb of the sky. 24. The distinct knowledge of the different categories of time, place, action in the world, is now entirely blended in the knowledge of the unity of the tranquil spirit of Brahma (which composes all varieties in itself). 25. I am tranquil, calm and quiet and settled in the spirit of God; I do not rise nor fall from nor move about this prop. I remain as you do in immovable spirit of God, which is all quiet, holiness and felicity in itself. CHAPTER LXXXXVI. ENLIGHTENMENT OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--Kumbha's Lecture on Effacing the Impression of Phenomenals from the mind of Sikhidhwaja or vanity of the visible world. Vasishtha said:--Sikhidhwaja having thus found his rest in the spirit of Brahma, remained quiet for some moments, as the steady and unflagging flame of a lamp in a calm. 2. And as he was about to be absorbed in his unwavering meditation, he was suddenly roused from his trance by the diverting voice of Kumbha. 3. Kumbha said:--Prince, I see you are not to wake from the sleep of your entranced meditation, wherein you are situated in your perfect bliss; you must neither be absorbed in your contemplation, nor be a stranger to your abstract meditation altogether (but must observe your middle course between Platonism and perturbation). 4. The mind that is undivided in its attention, is cleansed from all duplicity; and being freed from its knowledge of parts and particulars, becomes emancipated in its living states. 5. Being thus enlightened by Kumbha, the prince became full of enlightenment; and being roused from his trance, he shone as brightly as a rich gem when taken out of its cover. 6. The prince who in his state of quietism, beheld the unreality of visible things; and now perceived them spread all about him, thus spoke about them to Kumbha. 7. Sikhidhwaja said:--Though I know full well about all these things, yet I want to propose some queries regarding them; to which I hope you will give your answers, for my correct and perfect knowledge of them. 8. Tell me, how can we intermingle the impure conception of the universal or mundane soul representing the _mundees_ or universe, with the pure idea of the supreme soul, which is ever calm, quiet and transparent. (The universal soul, is called _viswátmá_, viswarúpa and viráta, and is opaque with its contents; while the supreme is quite pure and clear, and untinged with the shade of creation). 9. Kumbha replied:--You have asked well, O prince, and this shows the clearness of your understanding; and if this is all that you want to know, hear me then explain it fully to you. 10. Whatever is seen here and every where together, with all the moving and unmoving beings which it contains, are all of them perishable, and are extinct at the end of every kalpa age (in which the creator wishes to create a new world). 11. Then there remains the true and essential reality at the end of the kalpa age, amidst an obscure chaotic state, which is deprived both of light and darkness. 12. This essential reality is the divine intellect, which is pure and quiet and as clear as the transparent air; it is free from all attributes and imputations, and full of transcendental intelligence. 13. The one that remains at the end of a kalpa, is the supreme soul which extends over all space, and is purely bright, transparent and quiet; it is enveloped in light and is pure intelligence. 14. It is inscrutable and unknowable, it is even and quiet, and full of bliss; it is called Brahma--the great, the final extinction of all bodies and is full of all knowledge. 15. It is the minutest of the minute, and the largest of whatever is large in the universe; it is the greatest and greatest of aught that is great and heavy, and it is the best of whatever is good and excellent. 16. It is so very small, that if you place this sky beside it, the latter will appear as big as the great mount of Meru by the side of a small mite. 17. It is again so very big and bulky, that this stupendous world being placed side by side to it, the latter must appear as an atom before it or vanish into nothing. 18. This is attributed with the epithet of universal soul, for its pervading all over the universe and being its intrinsic soul; while its extrinsic appearance, is called by the title of Virát. 19. There is no difference between this attribute and its attributive, as there is none between the air and the wind or the air in motion; and as the sky and vacuum are synonymous words, so the very same intellect is the phenomenal world, and the same consciousness is manifested in the forms of egoism and tuism. 20. As the water becomes the wave at a certain time and place, by cause of the current wind; so the world rises and falls at times in the supreme soul, without any external cause (except the will of the supreme spirit). 21. As gold is transformed to bracelets at certain times and place, by means of some or other; so the spirit of God is transformed to the visible world at certain times, without any other assignable cause whatever (save by the supreme will). 22. The most glorious God, is the Lord of his Kingdom of the world; He is one with his creation, ever pure, quiet and undecaying, and pervades over all these worlds which are scattered as turfs of grass all around us. 23. This transcendentally good and great God is the only real existence, and comprises all temporary and finite existences within himself; and we know by our reason, that this glorious creation of the universe is all derived from him. 24. Know him, O prince, to be the essence of the extended universe, and to extend over all in his form of an entire intellect, and an unity that never admits of a duality (under all the varieties and diversities in nature). 25. There is no reason therefore, for our conceiving a duality beside his unity; since it is the sole principle of the supreme soul, that is fully manifest in all in its ever undiminished and unextinguished state. 26. The Lord always remains as the all in all, and as manifest in all the various forms; and being neither visible nor perceptible by us, he can neither be said to be the cause or effect of anything (but is the unknown all in himself). 27. The Lord being neither perceptible nor conceivable by us is something super-eminently good and superfine; He is all and the soul of all, too fine and transparent, and is known only by our conception of him; and no sensible perception whatever. (The knowledge of God, is innate and inborn in us. Locke). 28. Being inexpressible by words, and manifest in all without manifestation or appearance of himself; cannot be the cause of whatever is real or unreal. (Anything that is indefinite in itself, cannot cause another of a definite or indefinite form). 29. That which has no name of itself, cannot be the seed of another; no nameless nothing can grow anything, nor can a commensurable world spring out of an incommensurable spirit. (A material and measurable thing, must have a material mensurator for its origin. Hence it is wrong to say: God measured the seas without a measuring rod). 30. The exhaustless mass of divine intellect, is indeed no cause or casual instrument or effect of any thing; because the product of the divine soul, must be some thing of the form of the invisible soul, which is its everlasting consciousness or intelligence. 31. So, O sage, nothing is produced by the supreme Brahma nor does anything arise from Him, like the waves from water which have their winds for their causality. (But the spirit of Brahma, is as the still water and has no stir or perturbation in it). 32. All distinction of time and place, being absent in the uniform and unchanging spirit of Brahma, there can be no creation or destruction of the world from him, and hence the world is increate and without any cause. 33. Sikhidhwaja said:--I know that the waves of water, have their cause in the winds of the air, and so I understand this world and our egoism &c., have their causality in the supreme spirit (which produces the worlds by its will, and acquaints me of my egoism by its intelligence). 34. Kumbha replied:--Know now the positive truth, O prince as I tell you after all, that there is nothing as a separate world or our egoism &c. existent in supreme spirit; though the world and the Ego exist as one with the divine spirit, without bearing their distinct names and personalities at all. (_i.e._ The world and its gods as one and the same thing). 35. As the subtile ether, contains the subtle element of vacuum in its bosom; so the divine soul entertains in itself, the fine spun idea of the mundane system without its substance. 36. Whether you behold this world in its true form of divine intelligence, or in any other form of gross matter; it is to be understood rightly as no other than a representation of the divine intellect. 37. The full knowledge of a thing, makes it sweet to the understanding, though it be as bitter as gall to taste; but the imperfect knowledge of a thing, as that of the world makes it appear as full of woe, though it is no such thing in reality. (Hence the crying and laughing philosophers took two different views of the world). 38. Ambrosia the water of life being taken in the light of poison, will act as poison in the constitution of the patient; so the lord of the intellect appears in a favourable or unfavourable light, as knowledge and ignorance of him represents him to our understanding. 39. The blessed lord God appears to us in the propitious or unpropitious aspect, as our true and false knowledge paints him to our minds, just as the blinding eye sees many a false sight in the light of the sun. 40. The essence of Brahma, always remains the same in his essential form of the intellect; though the turpitude of our understanding, will now represent him in one form and then in another at a different time and under different circumstances. 41. In fact the body and the embodied soul, appear as any other sensible object in the world; but being viewed in reality in their abstract light, they blend in the spiritual form of God. 42. Therefore it is in vain to make any inquiry, concerning the nature of the world and our egoism &c.; because what is really existent is to be inquired into, and not that which is a nullity in itself. 43. It is vain to ask about an appearance, which being looked into vanishes into nothing; as it is in vain to speak of the essence of gold, when it presents us no figure of it. 44. Therefore there is no entity of the world and our egoism, without the existence of God, these things having no cause, are self-same with the one self-existent Deity. 45. The world does not appear to be prominent, and to rest by itself to view; it rests in relief in the spirit of God, and shows itself as separate to us by illusion only. 46. These existences being composed of the five elements, produce many other beings; as the copulations of the male and female, produce their offspring in infinity; so the divine intellect being joined with the illusory intelligence, presents endless form to our view. 47. It is by the inherent knowledge of the divine soul, that it represents itself the shapes of many things that are comprised in his omniscience. He is full in himself and manifests his fullness in himself, and is never wanting in his fullness which always subsist in Him. (So the sea is ever full with its waves and waters, which roll for ever in its bosom). 48. The fullness or plenum of the world is derived from the fullness of God; and yet the divine fullness remains entire, as when you deduct the infinite, that remains the infinite also as the remainder. 49. The divine intellect though forever the same and serene, appears to shine forth in the creation with our knowledge of the same, and set at its dissolution with our imperceptibility of it; so our egoism being the same with the divine ego, appears to be different from it, as our fluctuating minds depict it in various lights. 50. The ego never becomes many, nor forsake its undecaying state; it is of a luminous form and having no beginning nor end of its essence; but assumes as many forms, as the ever varying mind imposes upon it. (The unchanging soul assumes many forms with the changeful mind). 51. The self-same soul believes itself as _Virát_--the lord of the world at one time, and as contemptible being at another; it sometimes sees itself in its true form of a divinity, and its thought makes it think as some other thing at another time. 52. The world appears as a vast and extended space, perfectly quiet in its nature, inexpressible by words and their senses, (as its real nature). All its objects are of wonderful shape to view, and appear to us according to our conceptions or without showing their real nature's unto us. (The true nature of things is hidden from our knowledge). CHAPTER LXXXXVII. ENLIGHTENMENT OF THE PRINCE IN THEOSOPHY. Argument:--Effacing the impression of visibles from the mind continued. Kumbha continued:--Know that nothing is produced from, nor destroyed by the ever tranquil spirit of God at any time; but everything appears as the panorama of the one all (_topan_) God; like the various kinds of ornaments made of the same metal of gold. 2. Brahma remains forever in his own essence, and never becomes the seed or cause of any other thing; he is ever of the form of our innate conception of him, and therefore never becomes any other than our simple idea of him. 3. Sikhidhwaja said:--I grant, Oh sagely monitor, that there subsists no separate world nor any other egoism in the one pure Siva (Zeus or Jove), except his own essence of omniscience; but please to tell me, what thing is this world and individual egoisms that seem to be infinite in number, and appear as distinct creations of God? 4. Kumbha replied:--The essence of God is without its beginning and end, and extends to infinite space and time. 5. The same also is this transparent cosmos, and the very same is the body of this world; which is simple and of the form of divine intelligence, and neither a void nor any extraneous thing. 6. The essential property of God being his intelligence, he is said to be of essence of intellect; and as fluidity is the property of water, so is intelligence the essential property of everything; and there is no reason to suppose an unintelligent principle as the prime cause of all. 7. The Lord is infinite in himself and is so situated in his infinitude for ever, without the grossness of the infinitesimals ever attaching to their pure intelligence in the subjective soul. 8. We cannot attribute the creation of the impure world, to the pure essence of the divine spirit; because the purity of the divine soul, cannot admit the impurity of creation, which would amount to a duality of purity and impurity in the supreme soul: (which is altogether absurd to believe). 9. The Lord can never be supposed as the seed or cause of the universe, since his nature is inscrutable and beyond our conception, and cannot be thought of as the root of anything whatever. 10. Therefore there is no creation or production of an effect, without its cause or seed; nor does reason point out to us, any other source of creation. 11. Therefore there is no gross creation whatsoever, except of the form of the intellect itself; and hence all that is visible to us, is no other than the solid intellect itself. 12. The feeling of egoism and the term world, are meaningless words and mere inventions of men; because nothing whatever can be called an effect or product, which has no cause assigned to it. 13. The duality of the world appears in the unity of God, in the same manner as a flower called the sky flower appears in the hollow vacuum of the sky (by mere delusion). And all things being perishable in their nature, exist only in the intellect in which they live and die. (If the world be of the solid intellect, then the very intellect becomes the cause of the same, by means of the solidification of its own substance; but it is not so, because it is impossible for the same thing to be both the cause and effect of something by itself). 14. Destruction is not the giver of life to destruction, nor is it a giver of life to perishable things; hence intellect is the giver of light to all: but you may call whatever you like the best. 15. What difficulty you have, provided all things are to be called one, when all have come from the intellect; the duality what you call, that is the mystery of intellect-chit only. 16. The intellect therefore is the only true entity, which admits no unity nor duality in it. And therefore, O prince, you must know the nullity of all other entities beside it. 17. The feeling of thy egoism, is as false as thy conception of any other thing; and thus the idea of egoism proving to be false, what else can there be except the only entity of the intellect. 18. Thus egoism (being) no other than a form of the intellect, there is no difference whatever between them; hence the words I, thou &c. are mere human inventions to distinguish one from another (when there is in reality no difference in the personality of any body). 19. Whether you remain in your embodied or disembodied state, continue to remain always as firm as a rock; by knowing yourself only as the pure intellect, and the nullity of all things besides. 20. By thinking yourself always as the intellect, you will lose the sense of your egoism and personality; and so will your reflexion on the contexts of the texts of the vedas, lead you to the same conclusion. (There are numerous texts to the effect that God is the only entity, and this all is naught but God). 21. From all these know thyself as the pure essence, which is uncaused and unmade, and the same with the first and original principle; that thou art same with the emancipate and everlasting Brahma, and multiform in thy unity; that thou art as void as vacuity, having neither thy beginning, middle or end; and that this world is the intellect and that intellect is the very Brahma himself. CHAPTER LXXXXVIII. ADMONITION OF SIKHIDHWAJA CONTINUED. Argument:--The non-entity of the mind, proved from the non-existence of sensible objects, and the want of these proving only the entity of one Brahma only. Sikhidhwaja said:--I understand, that there is no such thing as the mind also; but as I have no clear and correct knowledge of this subject, I beg of you to tell me, whether it is so (as I believe) or not. 2. Kumbha replied:--You have truly said, O prince, that there is no such real entity as the mind at any time and in any space whatever; and that which appears as the mind, is no other than a faculty of the only one everlasting Brahma. 3. Anything besides which is fallible or unconscious of itself, as the mind or anything of this world, can never be a positive or self-existence substance; therefore the words I, thou and this or that are only coinings of our imagination, and have no existence in reality. 4. There is no reality of the cosmos or any of its contents; and all that seem to be in existence, are no more than the various representations of the one self-existent Brahma himself. (Because there is no duality beside the unity of Brahma). 5. It is said that there was no mind or its personification of Brahmá, and the final dissolution of the world, and this proves the unreality of both of them. Again it is said that the mind took the form of Brahmá and created the world in the beginning, which proves also the mind to be the divine mind, and represented by substitution of the metaphor of Brahmá. 6. As there can be no material object without the prior existence of a material cause, so it is impossible to believe the existence of the sensible mind and the myriads of the sensible objects in absence of their material cause, which never existed from before. (The spirit alone was the pre-existent thing, which could not create anything except in its own immaterial form). 7. Hence there is no such thing, as a dull and unconscious world; and all that appears to exist as such, is no other than a representation of the Divine spirit (which reflects itself in various ways) as the gold exhibits its ornaments to view. 8. It is entirely false to believe, that the nameless and formless Deity does this all; and because the world is visible, yet there is no proof of its reality in our subjective knowledge of it. 9. That the nameless and formless spirit of God, which has no shelter nor support for itself, should make this world for the abode of others, is a laughable assumption of the ignorant only (therefore this world is his own abode and the stage of his own action). 10. From these reasons it is plain that there is no world in existence, nor even the mind, which is but a part of it; the world being a non-entity, there can be no mind which is conversant alone with it. 11. The mind means no more than the wish, and then only there is said to be a wish in any one, when there is an object to be wished for; but this world which appears to be so very desirable, being a nullity itself, how can there be the mind to desire it. (The mind is a nullity for want of any of its objects to dwell upon or engage its attention). 12. That which is manifested unto us under the name of the Mind, is no other than a manifestation of the spirit of God in itself, and is designated by various appellations. 13. This visible which is so desirable to everybody, is no production of any one; it is an uncaused entity ever existent in the divine mind, from before its production by the mind of Brahmá the creator. (Being prior to the mind, it is no production of it). 14. Therefore the divine soul, is of the form of an intellectual vacuum, and is a void as the transcendent air; it is full with the light of its intelligence, and having no shadow of the gross world in it. 15. The slight light which shines in the divine soul, is like the twilight that fills the etherial sphere; is the reflexion of the mirror of the supreme intellect, and is neither the dim light of the mind, nor any reflexion of the phenomenal world. (The nature of spiritual light, as quite distinct from the mental and physical lights). 16. Our knowledge of I, thou and this world (_i.e._ of the subjective and objective), are never real nor reliable; it is like the appearance of our dreams, that serve only to delude us to mistake. 17. As the absence of the desirable world, removes our desire of it; so the privation of our desire, displaces the mind which is the seat of our wishes. 18. The ignorant believe that this visible world is the mind, (because it is the display of the divine mind and the mind dwells upon it); but the unreal and formless mind had not this visible form, before it developed itself in the form of creation. (The world is not the mind because it is posterior in the order of creation, being created by the mind of the great Brahmá). 19. But this world is said to be coeval with the eternal mind, which is altogether impossible; because we read nowhere in the sástras, nor find in the ordinary course of nature, that a visible object has ever come into existence without some cause or other, either in the beginning of creation or at any time afterwards. (Hence the visible world is not coeval with the mind its maker). 20. How can eternity, uncreatedness and everlastingness be predicated of this visible world, which is a gross material substance, and subject to decay and dissolution. 21. There is no testimony of the sástras, nor ocular evidence nor any reasonable inference, to show any material thing to be uncaused by some agent or other, and to survive the final dissolution of the world. 22. There is no written testimony of the vedas, and of other sástras and Siddhántas to show, that any material thing is ever exempt from its three conditions of birth, growth and decay, and is not perishable at the last dissolution. 23. He that is not guided by the evidence and dictates of the sástras and vedas, is the most foolish among fools, and is never to be relied upon by good and sensible men. 24. It is never possible for any one to prevent the accidents, that are incidentals to perishable things, nor can there be any cause to render a material object an immaterial one. 25. But the immaterial view of this world, identifies it with the unchangeable Brahma, and exempts it from the accidents of action and passion, and of growth and decay. 26. Therefore know this world to be contained, in the undivided and unutterable vacuity of the Divine Intellect; which is infinite and formless void, and is for ever more in its undivided and undivisible state. 27. Brahma who is omniform and ever tranquil in himself, manifests his own self in this manner in the forms of creation and dissolution all in himself. 28. The lord now shows himself to our understanding, as embodied in his body of the world, and now manifests himself unto us, as the one Brahma in his spiritual form. 29. Know after all, that this world is the essence of the one Brahma only, beside which there is no separate world or any thing else in existence; and it is our imagination only which represents it sometimes in one form and then in another. 30. All this is one, eternal and ever tranquil soul, which is unborn and without any support and situated as it is. It shows itself as various without any variation in its nature, and so learn to remain thyself with thyself as motionless as a block of wood, and with thy dumb silence in utter amazement at all this. (The principles of vedánta philosophy being abstraction and generalisation, it takes the world and all things in their abstract light, and generalises them all under the general spirit of God). CHAPTER LXXXXIX. REMONSTRATION OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument.--Further exhortations to spiritual knowledge and its confirmations. Sikhidhwaja said:--O sage, it is by thy good grace, that I am freed from my ignorance, and brought under the light of truth; my doubts are removed, and I am situated with my tranquillity of my spirit. 2. I have become as one knowing the knowable, and sits taciturn after crossing over the sea of delusion; I am quiet by quitting my egoism, and am set out of all disquiet by my knowledge of true self. 3. O! how long a time have I wandered, amidst the mazy depths of the world; after which I have now arrived to the safe harbour of my peace and security. 4. Being so situated, O sage, I perceive neither my egoism, nor the existence of the three worlds; it is ignorance to believe in their existence, but I am taught to believe in Brahma alone. 5. Kumbha replied:--How is it possible for the egoism, tuism or suism of any body, to exist anywhere; when this universe, this air and sky, have not their existence anywhere. 6. Sit quiet as usual be calm and as silent as a sage; and remain as still as the calm ocean, without the perturbation of the waves and whirl pools within its bosom. 7. Such is the quiet and tranquil state of Brahma, who is always one and the same as he is; and the words I, thou, this and that, and the world, are as void of meaning, as the universal vacuity, is devoid of anything. 8. What you call the world is a thing, having neither its beginning nor its end; it is the wonder of the Intellect, to shine as the clear light, which fills the etherial firmament. 9. The changes that appear to take place in the spirit of God, are as extraneous as the different colours that paint the vault of heaven, and the various jewelleries which are wrought upon gold; these have no intrinsic essentiality, and never affect the tranquillity of the divine spirit, nor the uniform serenity of the empty sky, nor the nature of the pure metal of gold. 10. As the Lord is self-born, so is his eternal will inherent in and born with himself; and what we call as free will or fate, depend on the nature of our knowledge of them. 11. Think yourself as something, and you become a bondsman to your desires; but believe yourself as nothing, and you are as free and enfranchised as free air itself. 12. It is the certain knowledge or conviction of thyself as a reality, and that thou art subject either to bondage or freedom, that constitutes thy personality. 13. It is the privation of thy knowledge of thyself or thy egoistic personality, that leads thee to thy consummation; whereas thy knowledge of thy personality exposes thee to danger; therefore think thyself as himself and not thyself (according to the formula ("so ham ana ham," _i.e._ I am he and not myself) and thou art safe from all calamity. (This is no more than one's self resignation to God)). 14. No sooner you get rid of the conviction of yourself, than your soul is enlightened by the light of true knowledge; and you lose the sense of your personality, and become consummated in your knowledge of yourself as one with the Holy spirit. 15. The inscrutable nature of God admits of no cause, because causality refers only to what is caused and cannot come to existence without a cause, and not to the uncaused cause of all. 16. As we have no knowledge of an object which is not in existence, so we cease to have any knowledge of our personality, if we but cease to consider ourselves as caused and created beings. (The sophists to think themselves as increate and say--_man an wakt budam ke hichak nabud_, _i.e._ I exist from a time when there was nothing in existence). 17. What is this world to us if we are unconscious of ourselves, and if we are freed from our knowledge of the objective world, we see but the supreme soul remaining after all. 18. Whatever is manifest here before us, is all situated in the spirit of the lord; all these are transcendent, and are situated as such and same with the full and transcendental spirit of God. (The fulness of the world, abides in the fulness of the divine spirit). 19. Therefore all these that are protuberant to view, are as figures carved on a rock; and the light that pervades the whole, is but the glory of the great God. 20. In absence of this visionary world from view, its light which is more pellucid than that of the transparent firmament will vanish away into nothing. 21. The insensible world seems to move about as a shadow or phantom in the air, whence it is called _jagat_ or the moving world; but he alone sees it in its true light, who views it as motionless and without its sense of mobility, and as perfectly sedate and stationary in the spirit of God. 22. When the sight of the visibles, together with the sense of sensibles and the feelings of the mind, become insipid to the torpid soul that is absorbed in divine meditation; it is then called by the wise as _nirvána_ absorption or the full light and knowledge of God. 23. As the breezeless winds sink in the air, and the jewellery melts in its gold; so doth the protruding form of the world, subside in the even spirit of God. 24. The sight of the world and the perceptions of the mind, which testify the existence of the world unto us, are but the representations of Brahma; as the false mirage, represents the water in the desert sands. 25. As when the vast body of water subsists without a wave to ruffle its surface, so doth the spirit of God remain in its state of calmness, when it is free from its operation of creation. 26. The creation is identic with Brahma, as the lord is the same with his creation, and this is true from the dictum of the veda, which says, "All this is Brahma, and Brahma is this (_to pan_)". 27. The meaning of the word Brahma or immensity, equally establishes the existence of the world; as the signification of the word world or cosmos, establishes the entity of Brahma. 28. The meaning of all words taken collectively, expresses a multitude; which is synonymous with Brahma--the great and immense aggregate of the whole. 29. And if we reject the sense of the greatness of God and of the world, as they are usually meant to express, yet the little or minuteness of God that remains at last, is so very minute that words cannot express it. (So the sruti, neither the greatness nor minuteness of God is expressible by words). 30. The lord that remains as the inherent and silent soul of all bodies, is yet but one soul in the aggregate; he remains as a huge mountain of his intelligence, as in the form of the whole of this universal cosmos. CHAPTER C. CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT. Argument:--Difference of Brahma from the world, consisting in the indestructibility of his essence. Sikhidhwaja said:--If it is so, O most intelligent sir, that the work is alike to the nature of its maker; and therefore the world resembles Brahma in every respect. 2. Kumbha replied:--Where there exists a causality, there is an effectuality also accompanied with it; so where there is no cause whatever, there can be no effect also following the same. 3. Therefore there is no possibility of any cause or its effect in this world, which is manifest before us as the self-same essence of the ever tranquil and the unborn spirit of God. 4. The effect that comes to pass from a cause, is of course alike to the nature of its causality; but what similarity can there exist between one, which is neither the cause nor effect of the other? 5. Say how can a tree grow which has no seed for its growth, and how can God have a seed whose nature is inscrutable in thought, and inexpressible in words. 6. All things that have their causality at any time or place, are of course of the nature of their causal influence; but how can there be a similarity of anything with God who is never the cause of an effect? 7. Brahma the uncausing uncaused cause of all, has no causality in him; therefore the meaning of the word world, is something that has no cause whatever. (Jagat means what is going on forever). 8. Therefore think thyself as Brahma, according to the view of the intelligent; but the world appears as some thing extended in the sight of men of imperfect understandings. 9. When the world is taken as one and the same with the tranquil intellect of God, it must be viewed in the light of the transparent spirit of Brahma. (_i.e._ spiritually and intellectually they are both the same). 10. Any other notion, Oh prince, which the mind may entertain about the nature of God, is said by the intelligent, to be the destruction of the right concept of the Deity. 11. Know O prince, that the destruction of the mind (or mental error), is tantamount to the destruction of the soul; and slight forgetfulness of the spirit, is hard to be retrieved in a whole kalpa. (He that loses the sight of his Lord for a moment, loses it forever). 12. No sooner you are freed from your personality, than you find yourself to be full of Divine knowledge, and your false personality flies away for your consummation in spirituality. 13. If you think the world to be existent from the meaning of the word _viswa_ or all, then tell me how and whence could all this come into existence. 14. How can you call one to be a Brahman, who lifts up his arms and proclaims himself about to be a sudra? 15. He who cries himself saying that he is dead, after the sinking of his pulsation; take him for the dead, and his living to be mistaken for life. 16. All these erroneous appearances, that present themselves before us, are as false as a circle described by the whirling flame of a torch; and as delusive as the water in the mirage, a secondary moon in the mist, and the spectre of boys. 17. What then is the true name of this erroneous substance, misleading us to the wrong, which is commonly designated as the mind, and is wrapped in ignorance and error. 18. The mind is another name for ignorance, and an unreality appearing as a real entity. Here ignorance takes the name of the mind, and unreality passes under the title of reality. Ignorance is the want of true knowledge, as knowledge is the privation of ignorance. 19. Ignorance or false knowledge, is driven by our knowledge of truth; as the error of water in the desert, is dispelled by the knowledge of mirage. 20. As the knowledge of mirage removes the error of water in the sandy desert, so the knowledge of the mind as gross ignorance, removes the erroneous mind from the inward seat of the heart. (The heart and mind are often used for one another). 21. The knowledge of the want of a mind, serves to root out its prejudice at once; as the knowledge of the rope as no snake, removes the fear of the reptile in the rope. 22. As the knowledge of the privation of the snake in the rope, removes its bias from the mind; so the knowledge of the want of the mind, removes this offspring of error and ignorance from within us. 23. The knowledge of there being no such thing as the mind, removes its false impressions from the heart; because the mind and our egoism, are the brood of our ignorance only. 24. There is no mind nor egoism, seated in us as we commonly believe to be; there is one pure intelligence only both with and without us, which we can hardly perceive. 25. You who had so long the sense of your desire, your mind and your personality from your ignorance only; are quite set free from all of them at this moment, by your being awakened to the light of knowledge. 26. All the troubles that you have to meet with, owing to your fostering the inborn desire of your heart; are all driven away by your want of desire, as the wind disperses the flaming conflagration of the forest. 27. It is the dense essence of the Divinity that pervades the whole universe, as it is this circumambient ocean which surrounds all the continents of the earth. 28. There is nothing in existence as I, thou, this, or that or any other; there is no mind nor the senses, nor the earth nor sky; but they are all as the manifestations of the Divine spirit. 29. As the visibles appear in the forms of the frail pot and other fragile bodies on earth; so the many false invisible things appear to us in the forms of the mind, egoism and the like. 30. There is nothing, that is either born or dies away in all these three worlds; it is only the display of the Divine intellect, that gives rise to the ideas of existence and non-existence. 31. All these are but representations of the supreme soul, now evolved and now spread out from it; and there is no room for unity or duality, nor any error or fallibility in its nature. 32. Mind, O friend, that you are the true one, in the shape of your senses; and these will never be burnt at your cremation, nor will you be utterly destroyed by your death. 33. No part of thyself is ever increased or annihilated at any time, the entirety of thy pure self is immortal, and must remain entire for ever. 34. The powers of thy volition and nolition, and the other faculties of thy body and mind, are attributes of thyself; as the beams of moon, are the significant properties of that luminary. (The attributes are denotative of the subject). 35. Always remember the nature of thy soul, to be unborn and increate, without its beginning and end, never decaying and ever remaining the same; it is indivisible and without parts, it is the true essence, and existing from the beginning and never to have its end. (The immortality of the soul). CHAPTER CI. ADMONITION OF CHÚDÁLÁ. Argument.--Obligation of the Prince for the instructions of his Monitor. And his attaining the Jívan-mukta emancipation in lifetime. Vasishtha said:--After the prince had so far attended to the lectures of Kumbha, he remained for some time in silent and deep meditation of his soul as if in a state of trance. 2. He continued with his intent-mind and fixed eyes and quite speechless all the while, and resembled the figure of a silent sage, and a carved statue without its motion and sensation. 3. And then as he awoke after a while with his twinkling eyes, he was thus accosted by Chúdálá in her disguised form of Kumbha the Bráhman youth. 4. Kumbha said:--Say prince, how you enjoyed yourself in your short lived trance; did you feel in it that sweet composure of thy soul, as the yogis experience in their bed of steadfast meditation and unshaken hypnotism? 5. Say, were you awakened in your inmost soul, and set at large beyond the region of error and darkness; say, have you known the knowable one, and seen what is to be seen? 6. Sikhidhwaja replied--O Sir, it was by your good grace, that I have beheld a great glory in the most high heaven of heavens. 7. I have beheld a state of bliss which is full of ambrosial delight, never yet known to mortals, and whose sight is the most ultimate reward of the wishes of the best and most intelligent men, and of saints and mahátmas of great and high souls. 8. It is in your society today, that I have felt a delight, to which I have never experienced in my life before. 9. O lotus eyed sage! I have heretofore, never enjoyed such a degree of spiritual bliss which knows no bounds and is a sea of ambrosial delight. 10. Kumbha said:--The mind becomes composed and tranquil, after subordination of its desire of enjoyments, and its indifference to the taste of sweet and bitter, and its full control over the organs of sense. 11. There arises a peace in the mind, which is purer than any earth born delight; and is as delightsome as the dew drops falling from flowers under the bright beams of cooling moonlight night. 12. It is today, O prince, that your bad desires like the bitter taste of bodies, are bettered by your advancement in knowledge. 13. It is by your holiness, O lotus-eyed prince, that the filth of your person is purged out; like the fruits of trees, falling off after they are ripened. 14. As the desire of the impure heart, becomes purified by reason it is then only capable of receiving the instructions of the wise, as the pipe draws the water inside. (Else, advising the fool is folly or spreading pearls before swines). 15. After the bitterness of your disposition, was tempered by my lectures; you have been awakened today to your spiritual knowledge by me. 16. You are just now cleansed from your impurity, and immediately purified by your pure knowledge; even now it is that you have received my admonition, and have been instantly awakened to your knowledge. 17. You are purged today, from the merits and demerits of your good and bad conduct; and it is by the influence of good society, that you have got a new life in you. 18. It was before the midday of this day, that I have come to know the edification and regeneration of your soul to spiritual light. 19. I find you now, O prince, to be wakened in your mind, by your taking my words to your heart; and having now got rid of the feelings of your mind, you are awakened to your spiritual knowledge. 20. As long as the mind has its seat and operations in the heart of man, so long does it retain its companion of ignorance by its side; but no sooner doth the mind forsake its residence in the heart, than pure knowledge comes to shine forth in it as the midday light. 21. It is the suspense of the mind between unity and duality, that is called its ignorance; and it is the subsidence of these that is known as knowledge, and the way to the salvation of the soul. 22. You are now awakened and emancipated, and your mind is driven away from your heart; you are now the reality and rescued from your unreality, and are set beyond this world of unreality. (The spiritual state is held to be real and all else as unreal). 23. Rest in the pure state of thy soul, by being devoid of cares and anxieties; forsaking all society and relying your soul in no body and in nothing here; and by your becoming as the devout and Divine and silent sage or saint or _muni_. 24. Sikhidhwaja said:--So I see sir, that all ignorant people rely mostly on their minds; but the few that are awakened to the knowledge of God, do not mind their minds (_i.e._ they are not led away by the inclinations of their minds). 25. Now sir, please tell me, how the living liberated men conduct themselves in their lifetime in this world; and how do these unmindful men like yourself, manage yourselves herein. 26. O! tell me fully and dispel by the lustre of your glowing words, the deep darkness that is seated in my heart. 27. Kumbha replied:--All that you say prince, is exact and incontrovertible truth; the minds of the living liberated men are dead in themselves, and like blocks of stone, never vegetate nor sprout forth in the wishes. 28. The gross desire that germinates in its wishes, which become the causes of the regeneration of men in some form or other, is known by the name of mind; and which becomes altogether extinct in men, knowing the truly knowable one. 29. The desire which guides the knowers of truth, in this life of action (or the active life) in the world; is known by the name of goodness (satva), and which is unproductive of future birth. 30. The great-souled and living liberated men, being placed in their quality of goodness and having their organs under control; do not place any reliance in their minds. 31. The darkened mind is called the mind, but the enlightened one is known as the principle of goodness; the unenlightened rely in their minds, but enlightened men of great understanding confide in their goodness only. 32. The mind is repeatedly born with the body, but the nature of goodness is never reborn any more; the unawakened mind is under perpetual bondage, but the enlightened soul is under no restraint. 33. Now sir, you are become of the nature of goodness, and deserves the title of the forsaker of all things; and I understand you to have quite got rid of the propensities of your mind. 34. I find you today as brilliant as the full moon, freed from the shadows of the eclipse; and your mind to have become as lucid as the clear firmament, without any tinge in it. 35. You have got that equanimity, which is characteristic of the consummate yogi; this is called that total renunciation of all, which you exhibit in yourself. 36. The enlightened understanding is freed from the trammels, of its desire of heaven and future rewards, and its observance of austerities and charity, by means of its superior knowledge. (The divine knowledge is called the superior or _parávidyá_ in opposition to the worldly or _aparávidyá_). 37. All austerities and mortifications, serve but to procure a short lived cessation of pain; but the happiness which is wholly free from its decay, is to be found only in one's equanimity and indifference under all circumstances of life. (The original word is _samatá_ or the sameness or evenness of disposition at all times). 38. That thing must be truly good, which is different from the enjoyment of temporary bliss of heaven, and altogether different from an existent pleasure, which is both preceded as well as followed by pain. 39. We are all doubtful of the happiness, that most await on us hereafter in heaven; and what are our religious acts, but for the purpose of procuring some happiness to those, who are unacquainted with the consummate felicity of their souls, derived from their spiritual knowledge. 40. Let them use their ornaments of brass, who have no gold ornaments for their persons; so let the ignorant adhere to their ritual and not the wise who are quite happy in their knowledge. But you, O prince, have happily come both to your knowledge and happiness in the company of Chúdálá and others. 41. Why therefore are you devoted in vain, to the observance of your austerities; because the mortifications and penance of asceticism, are prescribed for the expiation of the prior misdeeds of men (and neither for their salvation or eternal felicity of the souls). 42. The beginning and end of asceticism are both attended with pain, the middle alone promises a short and temporary happiness; and as mortifications are mere preparatory to the purification of the soul. (it is better to acquire this purity by divine knowledge, than by the painful practices of hermitage). 43. Remain steady in that pure knowledge, which is said to be the result of penitence; and the purity of the soul being had with the clearness of the intellectual sphere, all things and thoughts will be as perspicuous to view as in the clear light of the sky. 44. All things are seen to rise and disappear in the vacuous sphere of the divine intellect, and the thoughts of our good and bad actions, are as the drops of rain which mix with the waters of the immeasurable ocean of the Divine soul. 45. Therefore, O Sikhidhwaja, abandon the barren soil (of rituals), and resort to the abundant field (of divine knowledge); and ask of me to know your best good, as men desire to know of their best friends. 46. As a wife that requires her husband, refrains from asking petty things of him; so should you refrain from asking of trifling blessings from thy God, if thou dost require thy communion with him. And know the objects of thy desire, are not always for thy good. (Therefore let his will be done and not theirs). 47. As no wise man runs to grasp the sun, in his reflexion in the water; so should you never pursue after the pleasures of heaven or felicity of liberation, after thou hast found him in thy own spirit. (Better to posses the whole God than pray for a partial blessing). 48. Forsake what is unstable, though it may appear as stable to thee; and thou always stable, by leaving the unstable to perish by itself. (_i.e._ All adscititious properties are unstable). 49. Knowing the instability of things, preserve the stability of thy mind, because the motionless mind perceives no fluctuation of its thoughts, nor the changes and motions of things (as in sound sleep). 50. All our evils proceed from the acts of our bodies, as well as from the thoughts and action of our minds; these two are main springs of the miseries of men, in all places and times. 51. Curb the fickleness of your mind, and be ever calm and quiet; if you desire to enjoy the happiness of quiet and rest. 52. Know all motions and its want to dwindle into perfect rest, in the mind of the truly wise men; hold them therefore in equal light and be happy forever. 53. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me sir, how can the motion and force of a thing be one and the same with its immobility and rest; and you who are the remover of my doubts, will I dare say quickly clear this point to me. 54. Kumbha replied:--There is one thing only, which also the all and whole of this universe; it is as the water of the sea, and is agitated by its intelligence, as the sea water is agitated into billows. 55. The immensity of Brahma, which is named the only essence and is of the form of the pure intellect; is beheld in the shape of the formal world by the ignorant. 56. The agitation of the intellect is all in all in the world and constitute the moving principle of the universe (or the main spring of the cosmos). 57. The agitation of the intellect being concomitant with the divine spirit, it is alike to its stillness, and the unity of these two forms the spirit of God called Siva or Zeus. 58. The agitation of the divine spirit in the work of creation, vanishes before the sight of perfect understandings; though it appears to be in active operation to the ignorant, who view it as they do a false snake in the rope. 59. The intellect is ever busy and active, from which it derives its name (chit--intellect). But the inactive spirit which is all pervasive, is both inexpressible as well as inconceivable, owing to its devoid of all attributes (turíyátíta). 60. It is by long study of the sástras and association with the wise, as also by continued practice of yoga, that the light of the supreme spirit dawns in the inner soul, like the rising moon with her benign beams. 61. The supreme spirit is only to be perceived by our understanding, from the benign rays which it spreads over it; and this says by the wise to be the light of the holy spirit. 62. You have now known the essence of your soul, which is without its beginning, middle and end, and must for ever continue in it as your real and true state; there is no other distinct form of the great intellectual soul, wherefore know this as yourself, and remain from all sorrow and pain. CHAPTER CII. REPOSE OF SIKHIDHWAJA IN THE DIVINE SPIRIT. Argument:--Anxiety of the Prince at the Disappearance of Kumbha, and his falling to a trance in his deep and hypnotic meditation. Kumbha continued:--I have already related to you, O prince, how have all this phenomenon of the world sprung from Brahma, and how it disappears also in him. 2. Having thus heard from me, and understood and reflected in yourself all what I have said; you are at liberty, O sagely prince, to repose in the supreme bliss, which you have well known and felt within yourself. 3. I am now to repair to my heavenly abode, at this time of the conjunction of the moon, when it is very likely that the sage Nárada, may have come before the assemblage of the gods from his seat in the high heaven of Brahmá. 4. He may be angry in not finding me there, and it is not mannerly in youth to tease their superiors at any time. 5. May you ever abide at your ease, by your utter abandonment of every tint of desire, and by your firm reliance in these holy precepts, which the wise have always in their view. 6. Vasishtha said:--At hearing these words, as Sikhidhwaja was about to throw his handful of flowers, and make his obeisance to his departing monitor, he vanished immediately from his sight and mixed in the etherial air. 7. As one absorbed in meditation, does not see the things present before him even in his waking state; so the prince lost sight of Kumbha from before his presence. 8. The prince was plunged in deep sorrow, after the departure of Kumbha from before him; and remained as a painted picture, with his thoughts dwelling on his vanished friend. 9. He thought how marvellous it was, and how very inscrutable are the ways of providence, that it should bring him to the light of the self-manifest Lord, through the means of strange person of Kumbha. 10. Where is this sage Nárada, said he, and who is his son this Kumbha to me; and how came it to happen after so long, that I should come to be awakened by him. 11. O! how very fully has that son of the divine sage, explained every thing to me with his good reasons; and O how I am now awakened from my long slumber in ignorance. 12. How had I been plunged in the mud of my acts for such a long time, and was rolling on the wheels of distinguishing between what was right or wrong to be done. 13. O how very pure and cold, tranquil and quiet is my present state; and I find my essence to be as cooling to me, as I am washed in the cold bath of refrigeratory. 14. I am quite calm and lost in my trance, and sit alone as one with the unity; I have no desire for even a straw, but remain solely by myself. 15. Thinking thus in himself, he sat as quiet as a statue carved in wood or stone. 16. He then became silent, and had no desire nor refuge for his reliance; and remained in his immovable posture, like the peak of mountain. 17. Being then freed from fear in an instant, he remained a long time with the tranquillity of his soul and mind; and being united with the holy spirit in his hypnotism, he continued long in his sleepy trance, with his soul shining as the rising sun. CHAPTER CIII. RETURN OF KUMBHA TO THE HERMITAGE OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument.--Chúdálá's return after three days, and her rousing the Prince from his trance. Vasishtha said:--Now hear me relate to you about Sikhidhwaja, sitting a block of wood on one side, and the reappearance of Chúdálá to him from the other. 2. After Chúdálá had hypnotized her husband Sikhidhwaja, in her guise of the sagely Kumbha; she disappeared from her, and traversed into the regions of air. 3. She forsook her form of the son of the Divine sage in the empty sky, and which she had took upon her by her magic spell. The enchanted form melted away in the air, and she appeared in her female form of beauteous fair. 4. She bent her airy course to her palace in the city, where she showed herself as their queen, before her assembled attendants and courtiers, and discharged the royal duties of her absent lord. 5. After three days she took again to her aerial journey, retook her enchanted form of Kumbha, and advanced to the hermitage of Sikhidhwaja in the forest. 6. She saw there the prince in his woodland retreat, and sitting in his posture of deep meditation and resembling a figure carved in wood. 7. Seeing him thus, she exclaimed repeatedly in herself; O heyday! that he is reposing here in his own soul, and is sitting quiet and tranquil in himself. 8. I must now awaken him from his trance in the supreme Being, or else his soul will soon forsake its mortal frame, owing to his disregard of it, and the end of his worldly bondage by his excessive devotion. 9. It is desirable that he should live some time longer, either with his royalty in the palace or with devotion in this forest; and then we both of us will depart together, by shuffling our mortal coils. 10. It would be difficult to instruct him, in all (seven) stages of devotion (saptama bhumi); and as there is no end of these things, I will try to train him in the practical part of yoga only. 11. Thus pondering in herself she made a loud shout, which startled the wild beasts; but did not rouse the entranced prince, though she repeated her loud shouts before him. 12. When neither her shouts and shrieks could rouse him, who remained unshaken as a stone in the rock; she shook him with her hands, to bring him back to his sense. 13. Though shaken and moved and thrown down on the ground, yet the prince neither awoke nor came to his senses; then Chúdálá thought on another expedient in his guise of Kumbha. 14. She said, Ah! I see my lord is absorbed in his prophetic trance, and I must find some expedient to rouse him to his sense. 15. Or why should I try to rouse him deified spirit back to its sensation, when he so well absorbed in his state of disembodied or abstract meditation (in which he enjoys himself and has forgotten his embodiment in the material frame and become as the disembodied or _videha_ spirit). 16. I also wish to get rid of my female form, and to reach that state of supreme beatitude like him, which is free from further births and transmigrations. 17. Thus thinking in herself, Chúdálá was about to abandon her own body; when her better understanding recalled her undertaking that attempt. 18. Let me feel the body of the prince at first, she said, whether there is an end of his life, or there is any feeling or pulsation in his heart. 19. Should he be alive, he must come back to his sense; as the juicy root of trees, recalls the flowers in the flowering season of spring. 20. If he is alive he will walk about like myself, in his state of a living liberated soul; but if he be found to be no longer living, then I shall follow him to the next world. 21. With this mind Chúdálá felt his person, and examined it with her eyes; and then perceiving him to be living, she thus said rejoicingly to herself: 22. He has still the relic of his life, pulsating in his breast, the beating of the pulse and the throbbing of his breast, show his life to be not yet extinct. 23. Ráma said:--How can the little spark of the vital flame, be known to reside in the body of the self distracted yogi; whose mind is as cold as stone, and whose body becomes as callous as a clod of earth or a block of wood. 24. Vasishtha replied:--The relic of life remains in the heart, as an imperceptible atom and in the manner of sensibility; just as the future fruits and flowers, are contained in their seeds. 25. The calm and cold yogi, who is devoid of his knowledge of unity and duality, and views all things in the same light; who remains as quiet as a rock and without the pulsation of his heart, has yet the vibration of his intellect within him; (which keeps him alive). 26. The body of the temperate and tranquil minded man, never wastes or swells in bulk; it never decays nor grows up in heights, but ever remains in the same state. 27. The man whose mind vibrates with its thoughts of unity and duality (_i.e._ which perceives the difference of things); has the change and decay of his body, which is never the case with the yogi of unchangeful mind. (The action of the mind impairs the body, but its inaction preserves it entire). 28. The action of the heart, is the spring of the life of every body in this world, just as the honey in the flower cup, is the cause of its future fruit. 29. These frail bodies of mortals, are notwithstanding subject to the fits of joy and anger, and of the quickness and dulness every moment; and these, O Ráma! are the seeds of repeated births, and are hard to be checked or subdued. 30. The mind being still and quiet, the body becomes as dull as it were lifeless; when it is subject to no passion nor change whatever; but remains as even as the still and clear firmament which nothing can disturb. 31. The man of even and dispassionate mind, is never ruffled nor tainted by any fault; but remains as calm as the waters of the billowless and breezeless ocean. 32. The body is never lifeless, nor is its life ever imperceptible, unless the mind is defunct in its action; and is in course of long practice, that the mind becomes inexcitable and numb in itself. 33. The body which is without the action of its mind and vitality, quickly melts away to rottenness; as the snow melts away under the solar heat. 34. The body of Sikhidhwaja was felt to be hot, though it was without its active mind; it was therefore known to be possessed of its vitality, which prevented it from wasting and rotting away. 35. The noble lady, having perceived the body of her husband to be in that plight; held it fastly with her hands, and began to consider what to do with it. 36. She said, I will try to raise him by infusion of my intellection into his mind; and this will no doubt bring him back to his senses. 37. If I do not raise him now, he must rise himself after sometime; but why should I wait till then, and must remain alone all the while. 38. Having thought so, Chúdálá left her body--the frame work of the senses; and entered into the body of the body and joined with the intellectual essence of the same. 39. She then gave a vibration to the intellection of her living lord, and after putting it in its action and motion, she returned to her own body; as a bird flits on the twig of a tree which is shaken thereby, it comes back to its own nest again. 40. She rose in her figure of the Bráhman boy Kumbha, and sat upon a flowery bed, where she began to chaunt her hymns of the sáma veda (psalmody); with her soft tunes resembling the melodious chime of buzzing bees. 41. The prince felt an intellectual exhilaration, on hearing the tuneful chime of the psalms; and his dormant life was awakened to its sensibility, as the lotus bud comes to bloom by the breath of the vernal season. 42. His eyelids oped to light, as the lotus bud blooms at the sunlight; and the whole body of the prince, became vivid with his renewed life. 43. He beheld the Bráhman boy Kumbha, singing sáma psalms before him; and appeared in his divinely fair form, as the divinity of music was present in person. 44. O fortunate am I, said he, to have found my friendly Kumbha again before me; and so saying, he picked up some flowers and offered them to him. 45. O how great is my good fortune, said he to his guest, to be thus recalled to your gracious memory; or what else is it, that could cause a divine personage like yourself, to be so favourably disposed towards me. 46. It is only the cause of my salvation, that has caused you to come to and call at mine, or else what else can it be to bring a godson down to revisit me. 47. Kumbha spoke:--O sinless prince, my mind was ever intent on thee, ever since I departed from thee; and now it has come back to me, to have found thee well in this place. 48. I do not reap so much delight in the ever delightful region of heaven, as I do here in your presence; because I have the great work of your redemption not pending before me. 49. I have no friend or companion, that is dearer to my soul than yourself; nor have I any faithful pupil, nor confidential disciple like you in this world. 50. Sikhidhwaja replied:--Ah! I see now that the arbours of this mountain, are about to yield the fruits of my meritorious acts, that have made a retired recluse like yourself to condescend to desire my company. 51. If these woods and trees and myself who am so devoted to you, should find favour in your sight than the bliss of your heavenly abode, then may you please to take your residence with me in this lonely forest. 52. For my part who am so blest with the gift of thy _samádhi_, that I have always my perfect repose in God even in this place; have no desire for heavenly delights (which cannot be better than my absorption in the Divine spirit). 53. Reclining in that state of pure effulgence, I enjoy my fill of heavenly bliss even in this earth below. 54. Kumbha interrogated:--Have you ever had your repose in the state of supreme felicity, and were you ever freed from the infelicity, which is ever attendant on the knowledge of duality. 55. Have you ever felt a disgust to all temporary enjoyments, and have rooted out your taste for insipid pleasures of this earth. 56. Has your mind ever rested in that state of even indifference, which has no liking for the desirable nor dislike to what is undesirable, but is ever content with whatever awaits upon it at any time? 57. Sikhidhwaja replied:--It is by your favour sir, that I have seen all what transcends human sights; that I have reached beyond the verge of the universe, and obtained the best obtainable and most certain bliss. 58. It is after long that I am freed from decay and disease, and gained all which is to be gained, and wherewith I am quite content. 59. I require no further advice, from anyone for my edification; I feel fully gratified with every thing in all places, and am quite at ease and out of disease everywhere. 60. I have nothing to know that is unknown to me, and nothing to obtain that is not obtained by one; I have forsaken whatever is not worth having, and my soul has its reliance in the supreme essence. 61. I rest quite aloof of all, being devoid of my fear and error and apathy at any thing; I am always manifest in the even and equal tenor of my mind, and in the equality of my soul with all others; I am free from all imagination, as the clear sky is free from all taint and cloud. CHAPTER CIV. ON THE CONDUCT OF LIVING-LIBERATED MEN. Argument:--Kumbha and Sikhidhwaja's travel, and their conversation on various subjects; Kumbha's ideas of the predestined law of nature. Vasishtha related:--In this manner did these knowers of the knowable God, continue in their mutual conversation on spiritual matters, until the third watch of the day in that forest. 2. Then rising together they wandered in the delightful dales, and about in cooling lakes and pleasant rills. 3. In this manner they kept roving in that forest for full eight days, and passed their time in conversations on various subjects. 4. Then said Kumbha to the prince, let us walk to some other forest to which he gave his consent, with uttering the word om, and then they walked forward in each other's company. 5. In this manner they walked over many forest lands, and passed beside many jungles and shores; and they saw many lakes and thick woods, and rising hills and their thickets of dense woods and plants. 6. They traversed many woodland tracts and rivers, and saw many villages, towns and woods on their way; they passed by many sweet sounding rivers and groves, and many holy places and the abodes of men. 7. They were united together in equal love and friendship, and being of equal age and the same tenor of mind, they were of equal vivacity; and both walked or stayed together with their unanimity. 8. They worshipped the gods and the manes of their ancestors in the holy places, and ate what they got at any place; and lived together both in marshy and dry lands in concord and peace. 9. The loving pair bearing equal affection to one another in their hearts, dwelt together in mutual concord amidst the _tamála_ woods and in the forests of the _Mandara_ hills. 10. To them no place was their home or own, but they alike in all; nothing occurred to disturb their minds, which were always as undisturbed as a mountain amidst the winds. 11. They walked sometimes amidst the flying dust, and at others amidst the far stretching fragrance of sandal wood forests. They were now daubed with ashes, and then besmeared with the sandal paste. 12. They were sometimes clad in good garments, and sometimes in variegated raiments; now they were covered with the leaves of trees, and were decorated with flowers at another. 13. Remaining thus in mutual company for some days, and having the unanimity of their hearts and minds; the prince turned to be as perfected in his nature, as another Kumbha himself. 14. The holy and faithful Chúdálá, seeing the divine form of her husband Sikhidhwaja, began to reflect within herself in the following manner. 15. How divinely fair has my husband become, and how very charming are these wood-land scenes; by living long in this place, we must be an easy prey to the God of love. 16. I see that although one is liberated in his life time, yet the sense of his liberation, cannot give him freedom from his obligation of tasting the pleasures that are presented before him. I think it is ignorance to refuse the king of a proffered enjoyment. 17. Seeing the husband to be noble minded, and free from all bodily disease and debility; and having a flowery grove before, it must be a wretched woman, that rejects to advance to her lord at such a time. 18. That wretched woman is verily undone, who is seated in her bower of flowers and has her husband presented before her; and yet fails to approach to him for her satisfaction. 19. Accursed is the woman, who being wedded to a handsome husband, and having him alone in her company fails to associate with him. 20. Of what good is it to one acquainted with true knowledge, to reject a lawful pleasure that presents itself before that person. 21. So I must contrive some artifice in this forest, whereby I may be successful to make my husband join with me. 22. Having thought so in her mind, Chúdálá who was disguised in the from of Kumbha, thus uttered to the prince, as the female _kokila_ mutters to her mate from her flowery bower in the forest. 23. This is the first day of the new moon of the lunar month of _chaitra_, and this is a day of great festivity in the court of Indra in heaven. 24. So I must have to repair to the synod of the gods, and present myself before my father in that assembly. So my departure is ordained by destiny, nor can it be averted by any means. 25. You shall have to expect my return till eve in this forest, and spend the meantime, by diverting yourself in these flowery arbours, which will lull your anxiety for me to rest. 26. I shall positively return here from the azure sky, by the dusk of this day; and soon join your company, which is ever delightful to me. 27. So saying, she gave a stalk of flowers of the Nandana forest to her beloved, to serve as a token of her affection for him (and as a pledge of her return to him before it fades away). 28. The prince said "you must return soon" to me; and she instantly, disappeared from his sight, and mixed with the air, as the light autumnal cloud vanishes in the empty sky. 29. He flung flowers after her, as she mounted in the sky; and these floated in the air, like icicles in the cold season. 30. Sikhidhwaja standing on the spot, first beheld her flight, and then her disappearance from him; as the peacock looks at the flight of a cloud with uplifted eyes (so immutable is the friendship of a true friend). 31. At last the body of Kumbha vanished from the sight of Sikhidhwaja, and mixed in the open air, as the waves of the sea subside in the still and smooth waters. 32. Chúdálá then reached her celestial city, resembling the garden of paradise with its Kalpa arbours in full bloom, and its shining turrets waving with flags, hoisted on both sides of its charming paths. 33. She entered secretly her private apartment, and met the company of the maids waiting for her; as the graceful beauty of the vernal season, meets the long expectant arbours of the forest. 34. She attended to her state affairs, and discharged them quickly; and then flew aloft in the air and dropped at Sikhidhwaja's abode, as the autumnal fruits and flowers drop on the ground. 35. She appeared there with a melancholy face, and as deeply dejected in her mind; just as the fair moon is darkened under the mist, and the beauteous lotus are hid under a fog. 36. Believing her as his Kumbha, Sikhidhwaja rose up and stood in his presence; but being troubled in his mind to see him so sad and sorry, he asked the cause and thus addressed him saying:-- 37. I greet thee, O Kumbha, but why appearest thou so sad today; thou art the son of a deity and must not be sorry at anything, but please to take thy seat here. 38. Holy saints and the knowers of the knowable one like you, are never moved by joy or grief; but remain untouched by them, as the lotuses remain intact in the water. 39. Vasishtha said:--Being thus accosted by the prince, Kumbha sat on his seat, and then said in reply, with a voice as thin and soft as the sound of a bamboo flute. 40. I know that the knowers of truth, who are not patient under all bodily accidents and mental anxieties, are not truthful men, but cheats who cheat people by their pretended truthfulness. 41. Know prince that the most learned are the most ignorant, who expect foolishly to evade the condition in which they are exposed by their nature. 42. The sesame seed has naturally the oil inherent in it, and the body has also its incidents connatural with it; he who is not subject to his bodily accidents, is able to sever the wind and air with his sword. 43. It is of course to evade the evils that are incidental to the body, but it is to undergo patiently what is unavoidable by our bodily powers. 44. Again as long as we have our bodies, we must exert our bodily organs to their proper actions; and never attempt to suppress by our understanding, as it is done by many wise men. 45. Even the great Brahmá and the gods, are subject to the conditions of their bodily frames; nor have they with their great understandings, the power to avoid what is determined by irrevocable destiny. 46. It is beyond the power of both the wise and unwise, to deter the power of destiny; which makes all things to run in their destined course, as the waters of rivers run into the sea. 47. The same irrevocable destiny, determines equally the fates of the wise and unwise, and guides them as by her fingers to the same goal, until they get their release from the body. 48. The ignorant however, whether exposed to their states of prosperity and adversity, are always destined to undergo their effects upon their bodies. 49. Thus therefore it must be known by both the wise and unwise, that all beings are destined to roll in their re-iterated rotations of pleasure and pain (according to the results of their prior merits and demerits); and that there is no power to change the ever changeful ordinances of unchanging destiny. CHAPTER CV. METAMORPHOSES OF KUMBHA TO A FEMALE FORM. Argument:--Kumbha's relation of her transformation to a woman by right, and her attachment to the prince. Sikhidhwaja said:--If such is the case, sir, that destiny over rules all events, why should you be sorry for aught that has befallen to you, knowing that you are a godson and knowing the knowable also. 2. Kumbha replied:--Hear, O prince, the wonderful accident that has befallen on me; and I will relate to you all that has happened to me in body. 3. The heart becomes light when its griefs are imparted to a friend, as the thickened gloominess of the cloudy atmosphere, is dissipated after discharge of its waters in rains. 4. The troubled mind is restored to its serenity, by its communication with a sincere friend, as the turbid waters of a jar is cleared by its being filtered with _kata_ seeds. 5. Hear now that after I departed from here, by handing over the spike of flowers to you; I traversed though the regions of air, till I reached the heavenly abode of the God. 6. There I met my father, and accompanied him to the court of the great Indra, where having sat a while, I got up with my father and then parted from him at his abode. 7. Leaving the seat of the Gods in order to come down on earth, I entered the region of air; and kept my pace with the fleet steeds of the chariot of the sun, in the airy paths of the skies. 8. Thus wafted together with the sun, I reached the point of my separation from him; and there took my path through the midway sky, as if I were sailing in the sea. 9. I saw there in a track before me, a path stretching amidst the watery clouds of air, and marked the indignant sage Durvása gliding swiftly by it. 10. He was wrapt in the vest of clouds, and girt with girdles of flashing lightnings; the sandal taints on his body were washed off by showering rains, and he seemed as a maiden making her way in haste, to meet her lover at the appointed place. 11. Or as a devotee he hastened to discharge in due time his fond devotion, on the beach of the river (Ganges), flowing under the shade of the beaching boughs of the rows of trees on the shore. (This refers to the custom of hastening to perform the _sandhyá_ rites on the river side in the evening, as it is customary with other nations to hasten to the mosque or church at the call to prayers and the striking of the church-bell). 12. I saluted the sage from my aerial seat, and said, you, wrapt as you are in your blue vest of the cloud, seem to advance in haste, as an amorous woman to meet her lover (by hiding herself in her black mantle in the darkness of night). 13. Hearing this, the reverend sage was incensed and pronounced his curse upon me; saying, "Be thou transformed to an amorous woman as thou thinkest me to be." 14. "Go thy way, and bear my curse, that every night thou shall become a woman, with thy protuberant breasts and long braids of hairs on thy head, and fraught with all womanish grace and dalliance (and seek about thy lover)". 15. As I was thunderstruck and deeply dejected at this imprecation, I found the old _muni_ had already disappeared from before me; and then I bent my course this way from the upper sky, being quite sick in my heart (at this direful fulmination). 16. Thus I have related to you all, regarding my being changed to a damsel at the approach of night; and my constant thought of the manner, how I shall manage myself under my womanhood. 17. How shall I divulge to my father, the shame of my being a swollen breasted maid at night; and can I reconcile myself to my dire fate, throughout the course of my life. O how wonderful is the decree of fate, that we are fated to bear in this world in the course of time! 18. I am now ill-fated to become a prey to young men, and the subject of fighting among them, like a piece of flesh among ravenous vultures. 19. O what a fun have I become to the ludicrous boys of the Gods in heaven, and ah! how shameful have I been before the sages, who must be quite ashamed of me, and how shall I remain anywhere and before any body in my female form at night. 20. Vasishtha said:--After saying so far, Chúdálá became as mute as a silent _muni_; and remained as quiet as if she were in a swoon. 21. The pretended Kumbha then, seeming to recover his senses and his patience also, thus spoke out to himself; ah! why do I wail like the ignorant (for this change in my changeful body), when my soul suffers no change by this? 22. Sikhidhwaja spoke:--Why sorrow you sir for the body, that art the son of a God; let it become whatever may become of it, it can never affect the intangible soul. 23. Whatever pain or pleasure betides us in this life, is all concomitant with the changing body, and can never touch the unchanging soul. 24. If you who are acquainted with the vedas, and fortified against all events; should allow yourself to be so much moved by these accidents, say what will be the case with others, at all the casualties of life, to which they are incessantly subject. 25. To be sorry in sorrow; is very sorrowful in the wise; and therefore you who have yourself spoken these precepts before, should now be overwhelmed in sorrow, but remain as unmoved, as you are wont to be unshaken all along. 26. Vasishtha related:--In this did the two hearty friends, continue to condole with one another; and console themselves by turns, under the cooling shade of the grove where they sat together. 27. At last the bright sun who is the light of the world, set down in darkness like an oilless lamp, by involving Kumbha under despondency of her female form. 28. The full blown lotuses closed their folia, like the closing eyelids of the busy worldlings; and the footpaths became as deserted by their passengers, as the hearts of loving wives are forlorn in the absence of their husbands, devoted to travelling and staying in distant countries. 29. The upper sky borrowed the semblance of the lower earth, by its spreading the curtain of darkness over the groups of its twinkling stars, like the outstretched nets of fishermen enfolding the finny tribe. (The similarity of the dark curtain of the sky overspreading its shining stars, to the black nets of fishers enveloping the silvery fishes under them). 30. The black vault of the sky, was smiling above with its train of shining stars, as the blue bed of lakes was rejoicing with its chain of blooming lilies below; and the sounding black bees and beetles on the land, resounded to the cries of the ruddy geese in the water. 31. The two friends then rose and offered their evening prayers at the rising of the moon, and chanted their hymns and muttered their _mantras_, and took their shelter under the sylvan retreat. 32. Afterwards Kumbha, changed as he was in the female form, and sitting before Sikhidhwaja, lisped his faltering speech to him in the following manner. 33. Sir, I seem to fall down and cry out and melt away in my tears, to see myself even now changed to my feminine figure in your presence. 34. See Sir, how quickly are the hairs on my head lengthened to curling locks, and to how they sparkle with strings of pearls fastened to them, like the brilliant clusters of stars in the azure sky. 35. Look here at these two snowy balls bulging out of my bosom, like two white lotus-buds rising on the surface of waters in the vernal season. 36. Look how my long robe is stretched down to the heels, and how it mantles my whole body, like the person of a female. 37. Look at these gemming ornaments and wreathes of flowers decorating my person, like the blooming blossoms of spring ornamenting the forest tree. 38. Lo! the moon-bright vest covering the crown of my head (like the disk of the moon resting on the hairy crest of Siva); and the necklaces hanging about my body (like the flowery wreathes of Káma). 39. Look at my features, how they are converted to their effeminate comeliness, and see how my whole frame, graced all over with feminine loveliness. 40. O! how very great is my sorrow, at this sudden change of mine to a woman; and ah! tell me friend, what am I to do, and where to go with this my female form. 41. I perceive also the change to take place in my inner parts, and in my thighs and posteriors; Kumbha said so far to her friend, and then remained quite mute and silent. 42. The prince also, seeing him thus, remained in his mute gaze and silence, and then after a while, he oped his mouth and spoke as follows:-- 43. It is of course very sorrowful and pitiable, to see you thus transformed to a female; but you, sir, who know the truth, know also that there is no contending with fate. 44. Whatever is destined, must come to pass; and wise men must not be startled at or feel sorry for the same; because all those events betake the body only, and cannot affect the inward soul. 45. Kumbha replied--So it is, and I must bear with my feminine form, with an unfeminine soul. (So it is no disgrace to be an effeminate female, combined with the grace of a manly soul). 46. I will no more sorrow for, what is never to be averted; but must endure with patience what I cannot abjure. Relying on this principle, they alleviated their sorrow for what was impossible to avoid. 47. They passed their nights in peace, and slept in the same bed without touching one another; and Kumbha rose in the morning in his masculine form again, without any trace of his female features and feminine beauty or grace. 48. Kumbha was Kumbha again, by being shorn of his female form; and thus he passed as bisexual and biform being of the Bráhman boy Kumbha by day, and of Chúdálá the princess by night. 49. In his male form, Kumbha continued as a friend to the prince in the day time; and in female form of Chúdálá, he lived as a virgin maid with him at night. 50. Thus did Chúdálá cling to her husband, as a string of necklace hangs upon the neck and breast of a person. They then continued to wander in the company of one another, to different countries and over distant hills, to satisfy their curiosity. CHAPTER CVI. MARRIAGE OF CHÚDÁLÁ WITH SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument.--The Gandharva form of marriage, its Courtship and ceremonial rites. Vasishtha resumed:--After the lapse of some days in this manner, Chúdálá thus bespoke to her husband, in her guise of the pretended Bráhman boy (or Kumbha). 2. Hear me, O lotus eyed prince, she said, what I tell you in good earnest; that since I am obliged to become a woman every night, and continue to be so for ever more. 3. I wish to fulfill the part of my womanhood, by joining myself to a husband by legal marriage for all that time. 4. I want to taste the pleasure of conjugal union, with a dear friend, who is of his own accord so very friendly to me, and without any endeavour on my part: so I hope you will interpose no difficulty in my way. 5. So I choose you sir, as my husband, of all others in the three worlds: therefore be pleased to accept me for your wife every night. 6. The delightsome pleasure of conjugal union, has come down to us ever since the commencement of creation; and therefore our obedience to the ordinance of nature, can entail no guilt on our part. 7. I desire this that we may do as we like, without desiring or disliking anything; and be far from expecting the consequence of what we like or dislike. 8. Sikhidhwaja answered:--I see friend, neither any good nor evil, of accepting your proposal; so you are at liberty to do as you like. 9. Being possessed of the indifference of my mind, at every thing in the world; I see everything in the same and in an equal light: so I let you have your option as you may like. 10. Kumbha replied:--If so, then I say that this day is very favourable for celebrating the marriage ceremony; it is the full moon of Srávana, and all lucky asterism according to my best calculation. 11. On this day of the full moon, our marriage may take place both in the day as well as night-time in the Gándharva form (by mutual choice and consent). 12. It will be celebrated either on the summit of the Mahendra mountain, or on the delightful table-land there abouts; or in the grotto of some mineral mine, and in the light of the shining gems and mineral ores in the mountain; (serving as lamps and candle lights in the festivity). 13. The rows of stately trees all around, will shed their flowers at the nuptial ceremony; and the twining creepers on them, will represent the dance of _nanch_ girls by their tremulous shaking. (Dance and music being necessary accompaniments of marriage festivities). 14. Let the bright luminary of the night, accompanied by his consort train of shining stars, witness our marriage from the high sky with their wide open and glaring eyes. 15. Rise, O prince, for your marriage; and let us both hie to cull the forest flowers, and prepare the sandal paste and collect the scattered gems, in order to deck our nuptial seats therewith. 16. Saying so, they both rose together, and culled the flowers and collected the gems. 17. Then in a short time, they repaired to the gemming steppe, and heaped it with flowers of various kinds. 18. They had their marriage vests and necklaces ready on the spot, and the God of love helped with the supply of every thing required on the occasion. 19. Having thus prepared the paraphernalia of their nuptials, and stored them in a golden grotto of the mountain, they both repaired to the sacred stream of the heavenly Ganges Mandákiní, for making their holy ablutions therein. 20. Here Kumbha served as the priest, to lave the holy water profusely on the lofty head and elevated shoulders of the prince; as the elephantine clouds of Indra, pour the rain water in plenteous showers, on the towering tops and height of hills. 21. So also did the prince act the part of the ministering prince, and washed the body of his beloved princess now in the form of Kumbha. Thus did the two friends anoint and absterge by turns, the persons of their quondam and future consorts. 22. Bathed and purified, they adored the gods, the munis and the manes of their ancestors, for the sake of their honour, and without any desire of getting any good or gain from them: for they well knew that they could benefit nothing their service, as the deities, the deified spirits and the divine sages. 23. They took their frugal and repast, as their nature and the course of the world required; and seasoned with the nectarine juice of their good and refined intelligence. 24. They wore the whitish barks of Kalpa trees, as their clean marriage raiments, and ate its fruits as their wedding cakes; then they repaired to the altar for their nuptial ceremony. 25. At this time the sun descended below his setting mountain, as if to consummate their conjugal union in secret. 26. As it now became dark and dusk they discharged their evening service and offered their prayers; and groups of stars now appeared on the plain of the firmament, to witness their union in marriage. 27. Then came the sable night the only friend of the happy pair, spreading the veil of darkness over the face of nature, and smiling with the blushing of snow white lotuses and lilies of the valley. 28. Kumbha collected the rich stones, and placed those gemming on the table land of the mountain, while Brahmá lighted his two lamps of the sun and moon together in the heavens. 29. Being then changed to the female form, Kumbha anointed the prince with the fragrant sandal paste, agallochum, camphor powder and pulverised musk. 30. She adorned his person with strings, bracelets and wristlets of flowers, and dressed in a robe of the thin bark of Kalpa tree. 31. His body was also decorated with the filaments of Kalpa plant, and clusters of _párijáta_ flowers and with many other flowers and gems from his head to foot. 32. She appeared also at this time in her bridal garb and maiden like figure, with her big and swollen breasts, and with all her youthful grace and blandishments. 33. She thought that as she was now attired and appeared as a nuptial bride, she must now offer herself to a husband worthy to her. 34. Here am I as a lovely bride, said she to herself, and there is my husband in my presence; I must ask him to accept my hand, nor is this time to be slipped from hand. 35. So saying, she approached her husband sitting apart from her in the wood; and appeared as Rati--the goddess of love, was advancing towards her loving Káma. 36. She went to him and said:--"I am Madaniká by name and thy loving wife I therefore bow down at your feet, with the regard due to a husband." 37. So saying, the beauteous lady, bent down her head with female bashfulness; and made her obeisance to her lord, with the pendant locks on her head. 38. And then she said to him:--"O thou my lord! do thou adorn me with ornaments also, and then light the nuptial fire, to attest thy acceptance of my hand." 39. Thou appearest as exceedingly fair to my eyes, and makest me quite fond of thee; and thou seemest to me to surpass the God of love in the beauty of person, even when he wedded his Rati at first in his youthful bloom. 40. O prince, these wreathed flowers on thy person, appear as the brightsome beams in the body of the moon; and those strings of flowers pendant on thy bosom, seem to me as the stream of Ganges, gliding on the breast of the Sumeru mountain. 41. With the flowing braided hairs on thy head, thou appearest as the mount of Mandara, with the clusters of creepers hanging down from its top; while thy head itself appears as golden lotus, with its hanging hairs resembling the filaments of the flower, and studded with strings of blackening bees. 42. The gemming ornaments and flowery decorations of thy person, add to it the lustre and gracefulness of the mount Meru, with its mineral ores on one side and its floral beauty on the other. 43. After her flattering speech was over, the new bride and bridegroom, and future husband and wife sat contented together, unmindful and forgetful of their past conjugal relation. 44. The brave princess now Madaniká by name, and the noble prince Sikhidhwaja the saint, both sat together on a golden seat (of the mineral mountain); which added fresh lustre to the beauty and decoration of their persons. 45. They were bedecked with their head dresses, garlands of flowers and ornaments of gems and pearls, and were furnished with flowers and ointments, and clad in fine cloths all over their bodies. 46. The young lady Madaniká blazed as Venus with her maddening beauty, and appeared as the goddess Gowrí--the surpassing paragon of beauty, at her wedding festivity. 47. The noble lord having embellished his noble lady with his own hands, thus spoke to her after her toilet; "O thou fawn eyed fairy, thou art as graceful as the goddess of grace and prosperity". 48. I pray for all that prosperity to attend on thee, as it does with Sachí.--The queen of heaven, in the company of her lord Indra; and as it subsisted between the mutual pairs of Hara and Gowrí; and Hari and his consort Lakshmí--the goddess of fortune. 49. Thou appearest as a limpid lake of lotuses, with thy breasts blooming like lotus buds; and thy black blue eyes resembling the cerulean lotuses (nilumbiums); and the sweet fragrance of thy lotus like person, inviting the buzzing bees fluttering all about thee. 50. Thou appearest likewise as a tender shoot of the Kalpa plant of Cupid, with thy rubicund palms resembling its reddish leaves; and thy swollen breasts likening to its blooming buds, and every part of thy body, is as delicate as its delicious fruits. 51. With thy cold and cooling body, and thy moon like face and its smiles as moon beams, thou art as beautiful as the full-moon, and equally delightful to sight. 52. Rise therefore my beauteous lady and ascend on the matrimonial altar, and there perform the marriage ceremony, standing on the slab of stone, marked with creeping plants and their fruits. (The gloss says, that this stone or stool, is also painted with the colours of the nine sorts of precious gems _nava-ratna_, that are sacred to the nine planets). 53. Vasishtha said:--The altar was studded with strings of pearls, and bunches of flowers suspended on all sides; and it had four large cocoanut fruits, hang over the four sides of its square. 54. There were pots filled with the holy water of Gangá set about it, and the sacred matrimonial fire was lighted amidst it, and fed with the fuel of the sandal wood and other fragrances. 55. They turned round the flaming fire by the right hand side, and then sat on seats of leaves with their faces turned towards the east. 56. After sitting on the altar, the matrimonial couple kindled the nuptial fire, and made offerings of sesame seeds, and fried rice upon its flames. 57. The married pair turned again about the sacred fire, and offered to each other their own selves and loves as their marriage dowries. 58. They showed to one another their shining faces, as their nuptial presents; and completed the ceremony by going round the fire, and scattering the fried rice upon it. 59. The husband and wife now parted other hands, from their hold of the palms of one another; and their smiling faces, appeared as the lunar disk on the new moon. 60. After this they went to sleep on a flowery bedstead which they had newly prepared before, when the moon had already run her course of the first watch of the night. 61. She cast her beams to fall aslant on the bedstead, as when the attendant women cast their glances askance on the bridal bed. 62. She next spread her bright beams all about the leafy bower of the pair; as if to listen to the pleasant conversation, of the new married couple. 63. The pair having sat there awhile, in the light of the mineral lamps, retired to their sleeping bed, which they had prepared beforehand in a secluded spot. 64. It was a bedding of flowers, and beset by heaps of flowers of various kinds. (It is called the pushpa-talpa and is still in vogue even in the present form of marriage). 65. There were heaps of lotuses of golden hue, as also mandára and other sorts of flowers, to drive away fatigue by their fragrance. 66. The flat of the flowery bed of the bridal pair, resembled the plane of the broad and bright moon, and a level surface covered by the cooling ice. 67. It bore likewise the resemblance of the wide sea, whose waters are impregnated by the bright moon, and whose surface supplies a bed to Ananta--the sleeping spirit of the endless God. 68. The loving pair then lay themselves down, and rolled upon their snow white bed of flowers; as when Mandara mountain, rolled about and churned the Milky ocean. 69. They passed their bridal night in mutual caresses and conversation on topics of love, and the live long night glided before them as a few moments only. CHAPTER CVII. THE ADVENT OF FALSE INDRA IN THE COTTAGE OF THE HAPPY PAIR. Argument.--The travels of the pair, and their meeting the false Indra, and their call to Heaven. Now as the orient sun, gilded the world with his golden rays; the queen consort of Sikhidhwaja, changed her form of Madaniká to that of the Bráhman boy Kumbha. 2. She stood confest as such before her friend, sitting in the cavern of Mandara, where they lived in conjugal union together, as a pair of sylvan deities by night. 3. They roved about in the daytime, amidst the sylvan forests and amongst the trees and plants loaded with fruits, and flowers of various hues. 4. They passed the day as the two loving friends together, and spent the night as a wedded couple; and never separated from the company of one another either by day or night. 5. They rambled about the caverns and arbours of the mountain, and sported under the bowers of _támala_ and _mandára_ trees. 6. They roved about the skirts of Dardura, Kailása, Mahendra, Malaya, Gandhamádana, Vindhádri and Lokáloka. 7. On every third day or night, when Chúdálá found the prince to be fast asleep; she used to take upon herself her former form of the princess, and repair to her royal palace, whence she returned to her husband in the forest, soon after her discharge of the state affairs as before. 8. Thus the loving pair lived as two friends by day, and as husband and wife at night; both decked in flowers, and sleeping on their flowery bed. 9. They remained for a month in a gemming grotto of the Mahendra, and under the shade of the delightful _sarala_ trees; where they were greatly endeared by the sylvan deities and the Kinnara foresters. 10. They lived a fortnight in the arbour of Suktimat mountain, beset by mandára trees and Kalpa plants; and feasted upon the fruits which they could reach with their hands. 11. They passed two months on the southern ridge of the winged mountain of Maináka, and its bowers overhung by the fruits and flowers of the celestial _párijata_ trees. 12. They dwelt a month in the valley of Jammu, at the foot of Himálayan range and beside the Jambu river; they regaled on the fruits of _Jám_, which gave its name to the whole country (Jambudwípa). 13. They travelled through the northern Kuru country for ten days, and for seven and twenty days, they sojourned in the districts lying north of Kosalá. (Oudh). 14. In this manner they passed over many countries and hilly districts, living together as two friends by day, and as a conjugal pair at night. 15. Thus many months rolled away in their travels through many places, till there arose a thought in the mind of Chúdálá, to make a trial of her associate, and said:-- 16. I will make a trial of the heart of my partner, and see whether it is liable to have any attraction toward beauty and pleasurable objects. 17. Thinking so, Chúdálá showed by her magic skill the god Indra, sporting in the company of celestial nymphs in that forest. 18. Sikhidhwaja seeing the god with his companion there, advanced before him and worshipped him, as he deserved, and said:-- 19. "O lord of gods!" will you deign to reveal unto me, the cause of your advent to this forest from your seat in the high and far distant heaven. 20. Indra replied:--It is the attraction of the virtues, that has brought us down to these woods, as the flying kites of the air are drawn on earth, by the string fastened in their breasts. 21. Now rise from here, and proceed with us to heaven; where the celestial nymphs are in eager expectation of seeing thee, since they have heard of your wondrous virtues. 22. Wear these sandals and hold the sword, and anoint thy body with the ointment of these pills, and ascend to the upper sky and thence to heaven, in the manner of _siddhas_ and perfect _yogis_. 23. On reaching to the region of the gods, you will enjoy all sorts of delights, which awaits on the living liberated souls in this world and the next, and to which I come to invite you at present. 24. No holy man like yourself, doth ever neglect the proffered occasion to their prosperity, nor should you scorn to take your heavenward course with ourselves at his moment. 25. Let there be no impediment to your ascent to and enjoyment of heaven, where you will enjoy your full bliss, and which will be blessed by your presence as the three worlds by that of Hari. 26. Sikhidhwaja said:--I know O lord of gods, the delights that there abound in heaven; but I have my heaven every where, and there is no particular place which I deem as heaven. 27. I am content every where, and am pleased with every place; and my soul being desirous of nothing from its fulness in itself, I am fully satisfied every where. 28. O God! if it be forever to remain in one place and in the same state, what you call heaven; then pardon me for I decline to it (because I am at liberty here to go wherever I like). 29. Indra answered:--I know, O holy saint! that those that have known the knowable, and are perfect in their understandings, are indifferent to their sensual gratification; it is however not the part of the wise to reject an enjoyment, which offers itself unto him by the gracious allotment of his destiny. 30. After the God had said so, the prince remained silent and returned no answer; when the God told him saying, "If you are resolved not to leave this place, then I must leave you here, and take my way to heaven". 31. Sikhidhwaja said:--I must not go there now ("though I may do so on some future occasion"). Upon this the God made farewell to Kumbha (who had invoked him down by his spell, and disappeared from the spot). 32. All the other Gods that were in the train of Indra, vanished also from view upon the disappearance of their chief; as the huge surges of the sea, subside in the deep together with their foaming froths, and the shoals of whales and fishes that played and lashed about the main, after a lull of the gales that had raised them. CHAPTER CVIII. MANIFESTATION OF CHÚDÁLÁ IN HER OWN FORM. Argument:--Chúdálá's artifices to deceive Sikhidhwaja, and Sikhidhwaja's strength of mind. Vasishtha related:--The princess retracted the enchantment by which she had presented the God Indra before the prince; and was glad to find, that he had subdued (_lit._--put to blush) his desire of enjoyment. 2. He remained with perfect tranquillity and equanimity of his mind, at the advent and in the presence of the God Indra, and was fearless and indifferent to and unmoved even by the persuasion of that God. 3. I will again try to know by some artifice or other, whether this prince is subject to the passions of anger or annoyment or any other feeling, which serve at best but to blind-fold the understanding. 4. With this intention she took upon her the form of the chaste Madaniká, at the approach of night; and when the moon had already appeared above that forest land. 5. The wind was blowing gently, bearing the sweet fragrance of flowers; and Sikhidhwaja was sitting by the side of a river, to perform his evening devotion. 6. At this time she entered her bower formed by the twining creepers, and decorated with garlands of flowers, resembling the covert of a sylvan goddesses. 7. She slept there on the bed of flowers decked by herself, and adorned with wreaths of flowers on her own person; she had her beloved one seated in her heart; and laid her on a pillow. 8. Sikhidhwaja sought for her in the gardens and groves, and found her out at last sleeping in the bower, with the pretty paramour enfolding her neck in his arms. 9. He had his hairs hanging on his neck and shoulders, and his beauteous body daubed with pasted sandal wood. He had a chaplet of flowers on his head, which was distorted from his crown, and lay loose on the pillow over which it rolled. 10. The flowing tresses of the mistress, fell in two fold braids, on her shoulder blades of golden hue; and hung over her ears and eye-brows and her cheeks and face. 11. He beheld the amorous pair, with their smiling faces; and both kissing and embracing one another, as when the ivy entwines a large tree. (Their bodies and lip-like leaves are joined together). 12. They lay with their wreathed flowers, hanging loosely on their persons; and both were enamoured of one another by the mutual contact of their bodies, which infused their reciprocal passion in the heart of each other. 13. They were both infatuated and ravished by their mutual love, and were both bruising their breasts on the bosoms of one another. 14. Seeing this, Sikhidhwaja felt no change in his disposition; but was rather pleased to find them sleeping so very happily in one another's embrace. 15. "Remain ye lovers, he said, as you are in your hearts' content; and I will put no obstacle in your way, nor make you afraid of me by my presence in this place." Saying so, he withdrew from there. 16. Immediately at this time, she also withdrew her charm, and disclosed herself as the beauteous Venus, and loving spouse of the prince. 17. She came out and saw the prince sitting in a crag of the mountain, in the posture of his intense meditation, and with both his eyes open. 18. The lady Madaniká advanced towards him with a bashful countenance, and then sat silent by his side with her down cast look and melancholy appearance; as if abashed and ashamed of her past misconduct. 19. Then as Sikhidhwaja was released after a moment from his meditation, he cast his eyes upon her; and spoke to her with an exceedingly sweet voice, which bespoke the frankness of his mind. 20. Lady, said he why do you come so soon to me, and leave off the enjoyment of thy happiness? Oh! happiness is the end and aim of all beings on earth. (Oh happiness! our being's end and aim. Pope). 21. Go, return to thy lover, and gratify him with all thy endearments; because mutual love which is so much desired by all, and is hard to be had by any in this world. 22. Think not, madam, that I am at all angry or sorry for this affair; as I am always contented in myself, with knowing the True One, that is only to be known. 23. Myself and my companion Kumbha, are always dispassionate in our dispositions; but thou that art sprung from the curse of Durvása as a woman, art ever at liberty to do whatever thou likest, without incurring any displeasure of ours. 24. Madaniká replied:--So it is! Oh highly favoured one of Heaven, who knowest that women by their nature are ten times more passionate than men, and should not therefore be chid on account of their gratification of their natural passions. 25. I am but a frail woman, and find you absorbed in deep meditation, I could not choose other wise than take me a partner as you saw, in the depth of the forest and in the night: (Solitude and the darkness of night, being so very favourable to love affairs). 26. The weak sex in general, and the maidens in particular, are ever fond of paramour by their very nature for the gratification of their lust, which they can never have the power to check. 27. A woman becomes graceful in the company of man, and no anathema or prohibition, nor the menaces of men, nor regard of chastity, is of any avail to retard them from it. 28. I am a damsel and a weaker vessel and an ignorant and independent lass, therefore sir, it becomes you to forgive my fickleness, because forgiveness is the most prominent feature of holiness. 29. Sikhidhwaja replied:--Know my belle, that anger has no seat in my heart, as there grows no plant in the sky; and it is only for fear of incurring the ignominy of good people, that I must decline to take thee as my spouse. 30. But I can associate with thee as before in mutual friendship for ever more, without bearing any yearning or grudge in our hearts, either for or against one another (but remain in disinterested amity for life). 31. Vasishtha replied:--After Sikhidhwaja had consented to continue in his indifference and disinterested friendship, with his only companion in the forest; Chúdálá was highly pleased to wit the nobleness of his mind, and thus said to herself. 32. O the transcendent tranquillity, which this lord of mine has gained, and whose dispassionateness has set him above anger, and his living liberation hath attained. 33. No delight doth attract his heart, nor any excellence ever allures his soul; whose mind is not elated by pleasure or prosperity, nor depressed by pain or calamity. 34. Methinks all the imaginable perfections, have jointly met in his person; as the goddess of prosperity, is united with the personage of Náráyana. (The Lord is the model of all excellence and perfection). 35. It is now the proper time for me, to bring to his remembrance all and every thing relating to myself; by relinquishing my figure of Kumbha, and disclosing myself to him in my form of Chúdálá. 36. With this thought, she shuffled off her shape of Madaniká, and took the complexion of Chúdálá upon herself. 37. She then issued forth as Chúdálá, from out of the body of Madaniká, and stood confest before him, as a jewel when taken out of the chest and exposed to view. 38. The prince beheld her unblemished and lovely figure, and found his beloved Madaniká transformed to his wedded spouse Chúdálá again. 39. He saw his own wife present before him, like a lotus flower blooming in the spring; and as the goddess of prosperity rising out of the earth, or as a brilliant gem laid open from its casket. CHAPTER CIX. APPEARANCE OF CHÚDÁLÁ IN THE PRESENCE OF HER LORD. Argument:--Recognisance of Chúdálá, relation of her adventures and reunion with her lord. Vasishtha related:--Sikhidhwaja was surprised to see princess, so suddenly appearing before him; he looked upon her with his eyes staring with mute astonishment, and then broke his silence, with uttering the following words in his faltering speech. 2. What art thou, O lotus eyed maid, and whence comest thou to this place? why comest thou here, and how long hast thou been herein? say for what purpose dost thou abide in this forest. 3. Thy gait and figure, thy features and thy form, thy sweet smiles, manners and courtesy, bespeak thee plainly, to be an ectype or counterpart of the image of my wedded wife. 4. Chúdálá replied:--So it is my lord, as thou thinkest me to be thy lawful consort; I am no doubt thy princess Chúdálá, who has met thee today in her natural and undisguised form, as thou also hast found her as the same. 5. I assumed to me the counterfeit forms of Kumbha and others, only to remonstrate with thee on thy mistaken course; and used every art and stratagem to recall thee only to the right path. 6. Ever since thy foolish renunciation of thy kingdom, for the purpose of the performance of thy ascetic austerities in the forest. I have had recourse to the employment of every art, in order to reclaim thee to the right path of religion. 7. I awakened to the light of truth in my form of Kumbha, and all the other forms which I took upon myself, were chiefly intended for thy instruction (and rousing thee from thy lethargy). 8. The forms of Kumbha and others, were no real but magical appearance before thee; and thou that knowest the knowable, can very well discern the whole affair in your meditation. 9. You will be convinced of all this, if you will but look into it by the light of your meditation and not otherwise. After Chúdálá said so far, the prince sat in his meditative mood and in the posture of his meditation--_yogásana_. 10. He saw the whole affair, rising and exhibiting itself plainly before his mental vision; ever since the renunciation of his royalty, until his meeting with Chúdálá at the end (from first to last). 11. All these he saw rising in his soul, in one moment of his meditation; and the successive events appeared before it, since the resignation of his kingdom to the present instant. 12. The prince felt glad in himself, at seeing all these in his meditation; and he greatly rejoiced with his full open eyes, when his meditation was over at the end of the scene. 13. He extended both his arms with the hairs standing at an end of his body through joy, and his countenance shining with the gladness of his heart; while the fondness of his heart had its vent, in the tears trickling in his eyes, and his limbs slackened by his want of self-control. 14. And then embraced her to his bosom, as a weasel does its mate for a long time; and this continued embrace of theirs, indicated the permanency of their passion for one another. 15. No body nor even the hundred hooded Vásuki serpent, can express with its hundred tongues, the height of the happiness which the happy pair felt on this occasion of their reunion; when their two bodies met together, like the two orbs of the sun and moon in their conjunction; or as their two disks were joined in one, by adhesion of some paste or clay. 16. The two constant lovers continued in their close contact, like two contiguous rocks sticking to one another; till at last they parted apart, with the profuse perspiration of their bodies. 17. They then gradually relaxed their arms from their mutual embraces, and their hearts which had ere long over flowed with delight, became now as light as two empty pots of water. 18. They loosened their arms, and stared at one another with their fixed and mute gaze of amazement; and they sat silent with their deep felt love, after the fervour of their delight was over. 19. Then did the prince lay his hand under the chin of his legal and royal consort, and bespoke to her in soft and sweet words distilling with honey. 20. Matrimonial love, is righteous and sweeter far than the celestial ambrosia itself; how then was it, O my moon faced love, that thou couldst continue so long without tasting its sweets? 21. Thou hast doubtless undergone much privation, and suffered great pains in the absence of thy husband, and so also was the toil exceedingly great, that thou hast taken on thyself, in order to redeem me from the dungeon of the world. 22. I know not with whom to compare thee, for the great wisdom that thou hast displayed in thine act of my redemption, for even the pious ladies Sachí and Arundhatí and the great goddesses Gourí, Gáyatrí and Sri (Ceres) and Sarasvatí, fall short of thy admirable qualities. 23. I see, my love, that even the personified powers of understanding and prosperity, the persons of the graces and clemency, and the virtues of forgiveness, sympathy and universal love, are unequal to thy unequalled virtues and beauty. 24. I know no adequate recompense, that will compensate thy labour and repay my gratitude to thee, that hast spared no patience nor persevering pains, in the cause of my instruction and redemption. 25. O say, what retribution will requite thy pains, and gladden thy mind; for thy redeeming me from the dark pit of ignorance, and reclaiming me from the boundless wilderness of errors. 26. It is the true virtue of faithful wives, to raise their fallen husbands much more than the sástras or learning, riches, the spiritual guide and his teaching, can serve to save a man from his degradation. (Such accomplished wife, is very hard to be in India found in these days of degeneration). 27. Faithful and affectionate wives, are by far more serviceable to their husbands, than a brother or relation or any friend or servant, or even a _guru_ or one's riches ever can be. 28. The faithful wife is the best guide of man, and her person serves to be his best abode and attendant than anything else in this world. Therefore the wife deserves to be always regarded above all others, with utmost diligence and attention. 29. The happiness of both worlds depends entirely on the person of the disinterested and virtuous wife, who serves as a raft to her husband, for his going across the wide ocean of the perilous world. 30. How shall I, O virtuous lady! repay the recompense of what thou hast done for me, and whom I now regard as the wisest and best of all the virtuous ladies in the whole world. 31. Thy name must ever afterwards remain foremost of virtuous women in the world, in all future narratives of female virtues and respectable character among female sex. 32. Methinks the virtuous lady Arundhatí and others, whose names are immortalized for their virtues, in the record of sacred history, will feel jealous of thee as they came to learn thy chastity and other admirable qualities. So my dear, let me embrace thee again to my bosom. 33. Vasishtha related:--Saying so, Sikhidhwaja again held Chúdálá to his fast embrace, as the weasel does his mate in their mutual fondness. 34. Chúdálá said:--My lord, I was sorry to find you entirely devoted to your dry ceremonial duties, and it was for that reason, that I took so much pains to dissuade you from them, and lead you to the knowledge of the intelligent soul. 35. Now tell me, my lord, what shall we do in this place and what is the use of your extolling my virtues so far. 36. Sikhidhwaja replied:--O you most excellent among women, you are here at your liberty to do whatever you think best; as it is the prerogative of respectable ladies, to manage everything in their own way. 37. Chúdálá answered:--Now my lord! as you have come to know, that you are released from the network of this world, and are set free on the shore from all its broils: you must have perceived now that your past austerities were all in vain and gone for nothing. 38. You must have known that it is all in vain, when you say "I do this or that, and will get its reward, and will thus be settled in life etc."; say, do you smile to think of these and other vagaries of your simple understanding. 39. Do you know that these vagaries are the creatures of your avarice, and mere creations of your fancy? (because there is nothing that can do or bring out of your will or by your own power). 40. Don't you yet perceive that these false creations of your imagination, are as unreal as the situation or appearance of mountains in the empty air? 41. Say what is it that you have learnt after all, what is it that you depend upon, and what is the object that you seek at present, and in what light you view all your bodily acts either of your past or future life. 42. Sikhidhwaja replied:--O dear lady, with thy blooming eyes, resembling the leaves of a full blown blue lotus, I am likewise situated in and at the same place, wherein thou art located also. 43. I am tranquil and alike (or likened to) the object of my meditation, and am situated in the true ego long after leaving the sense of my personality: I am arrived to that state (of rapturous delight) which is known to and felt by the heart only (lit, by way of the heart). 44. There is no power any where, nor even that of Hari and Hara, that is able to obstruct that heart-felt joy of mine, which makes me think myself as nothing else or less than the very intellect (or a particle--chinmátra) itself. 45. I am now free from errors, and liberated from the trammels of the world; I am neither this nor that, nor am I glad nor sorry at any thing or at any event in the world. 46. I am neither any gross or subtile matter, nor am I like a ray of the solar light, that emanates from the body of the sun, and falls below by traversing through the midday sky. (_i.e._ The human soul is the image of God, and not a particle of the undivided essence of the Deity). 47. I am of the essence of that glorious light, which is ever without its increase or decrease; I am always tranquil and ever even in my nature, and I am quite at ease, having no desire of mine own, nor anything to expect from any body. 48. O thou most chaste lady, know me to be of that essence, which exists as extinct every where; I am what I am and what I cannot describe, and no other than this. 49. O beauteous lady, with thy eye balls glancing like the flitting waves of rivulets! I bow down to thee as my instructor; because it is by thy good grace that I have come across the turbulent ocean of the world. 50. I shall no more be soiled with the dirt of the earth, after being cleansed from it like a bit of gold from its alloy by repeated burnings. 51. I am quite calm and easy, quiet and free from passions, and never divided in my attention nor distracted in my mind. I am beyond all things, I am ubiquitous and all pervading, and am situated as I am (without any change in me). 52. Chúdálá said:--If you remain in this manner, O thou lord of my life, and dearly beloved one of my heart, then tell me, my lord, what is it that is now best agreeable to your most noble disposition. 53. Sikhidhwaja answered:--I know of nothing, O good lady, that is either delectable or detestable to me; I do the same as you do, and am exactly of the same mind like yours in every thing. 54. O thou that art as fair as the firmament, know that I have nothing to choose for myself, beyond what I am possest of; and leave it to you to choose and do whatever you think proper for us. 55. I will act as you will do, like your shadow or reflexion in the mirror; because my mind being devoid of its desire and effort, I will patiently bear with whatever comes to pass on me. 56. I will neither excite nor prevent, nor praise or blame thee for aught thou doest; but leave thee at thy full liberty, to do whatever thou best choosest for thyself. 57. Chúdálá replied:--If it is so as you say, then hear me tell you what is best to be done by you at present; you are to set yourself to imitate the conduct of living-liberated persons, and set yourself released from your ignorance, by knowing the unity of the Deity, pervading all things in every place. 58. We are both as devoid of desires, as the empty void of the sky is without its population; but that which I wish to do is what you do not wish at all. (_i.e._ I wish to manage the state, which you dislike to do). 59. Say what man is there, who neglects his life and livelihood, and remains only, in his intellect? (No one can make his intellectual culture without having his life and living). And as there are three stages of human life, namely, its beginning or boyhood, its middle or youth, and its end or old age, and we being situated in the midst of it, must do the duties appertaining to this state, before we proceed to the last stage of our being. 60. And as we are by birth the prince and princess of a realm, it is paramount on us to rule our state, and pass our days in the discharge of the duties of our royalty until our end. 61. Sikhidhwaja said:--Tell me, O fickle minded lady, what you mean by the three stages; and how we stand at the midmost one, without having a whit to care for the final one. 62. Chúdálá replied:--Know prince, that we are royal personages by births, and must all along continue as such from the first to the last stage of our lives. 63. Why then do you allow the imbecility and hermitage of old age, to overtake you in the prime of your youth; when it is your duty to remain in your city and palace, and govern your princely state. 64. And then I will reign there as thy consort queen, and crown the ladies in the royal apartment; and all young maidens of the city will dance about in jovialty, to see their prince and princess again in the royal palace. 65. And then the city glittering with its uplifted flags, and resounding with its loud beating drums, and decorated with wreaths of flowers hanging all about it; will resemble a vernal garden, smiling with its verdant plants, blooming buds and blushing flowers all around. 66. Vasishtha related:--Hearing these words of the princess, the king smilingly spoke to her in his mellifluous words, which bespoke them to proceed from the simplicity and frankness of his soul. 67. If such is your pleasure, O long sighted (eyed) lady, to incite me to earthly pleasures, then tell me what cause had I to slight the heavenly happiness, which was proffered to me by god Indra. 68. Chúdálá replied:--Know prince, that I also have no taste in earthly enjoyments, nor any great zest for its grandeur or greatness. I depend upon the bounty of nature, and live as I receive from her hand. 69. Hence I have no relish for heavenly joys or earthly royalty, nor do I derive any pleasure from the performance of virtuous and manly acts. My delight is in the undisturbed equanimity of my mind, and the positive rest of my position. 70. It is only after I have lost my feeling of pleasure in something, and that of pain in another, that I gain my equanimity and indifference to both, and am settled in my perfect rest and tranquillity. 71. Sikhidhwaja responded:--You have rightly said, O large eyed dame, with your calm and cool understanding; that it is all alike, whether we get or lose a kingdom, since we derive no lasting good nor suffer great evil, either from its gain or loss. 72. Let us remain in perfect ease, by shunning all thoughts of pleasure or pain; and getting release of the envy, emulation and jealousy; and continue in the same state of thoughtlessness as we are at present. (Lovely lasting peace of mind, sweet delight of human kind; that neither envy nor ambition knows &c. see ode on contentment). 73. In this manner did the conjugal pair, pass the day in their sweet endearments and mutual conversation; and the day glided on swiftly and sweetly over their feast of reason and flow of the soul. 74. They rose on the departure of the day, to discharge their duties on the parting days; and though they were ill provided for the emergencies of night, yet they well knew how to suit themselves to every occasions in every place. 75. Disdaining heavenly bliss, the loving pair lived together in perfect contentment with their conjugal bliss; and they both slept in the same bed-stead, loving and loved by one another. 76. The live long night passed away swiftly in their heaven like happiness of conjugal enjoyment, and upon their conferral of reciprocal love and affection; and by exciting their anxiety for mutual embrace. CHAPTER CX. FINAL EXTINCTION OF SIKHIDHWAJA. Argument:--Return of the Royal pair and retinue to their realm, their long reign therein until their ultimate extinction in the Divine source. Vasishtha related:--Then rose the orient sun above the horizon, like a brilliant gem appearing out of its containing casket; and dispelled the darkness of the sky, as the blazing gem enlightens the room with its rays. 2. His dawning rays pierced the eyes of sleeping men, and oped their eyelids, as they open the folia of the closed lotuses; and they roused the lazy world to activity, as if the sun beams gave the sound of the morning bell. (The _áráti_ bell is rung at dawn, like the matin cry of the Muezzin, to raise the sleeping men to their morning service). 3. The loving pair rose from their bed of flowers, in the grotto of the mount brightened by its mineral gold; and sat on their soft and cool leafy seats, to make their morning prayers and discharge their matin functions. 4. Then rose Chúdálá and stood before a golden urn of water, where she made the presence to take his solemn oath by the names of seven oceans of the earth. (This oath is more binding than swearing by the water of Ganges). 5. She then made him sit by the sacred water pot, and facing towards the rising sun in the east; and performed the rite of his installation to his kingdom, in this sequestered retreat. 6. After the solemnity of the ceremony was over, they both sat on the same bedding (vishtara), when the god like Chúdálá spoke to her husband in the following manner:-- 7. Now my lord, leave off your quiet character of a _muni_ or hermit, and assume the vigour of the eight rulers of the upper skies and nether world. (These ruling powers are Indra, Varuna &c.). 8. After Chúdálá had done speaking in this manner, the prince assented to what she said; and told her that he will do as she bade him, and return to my realm with you. 9. He then said to the princess, who was standing at the post of the warder (_i.e._ who was in attendance); on her inaugurated lord. "Now will I, my dear, install you in the rank of the queen regent in my turn and return for yours." 10. Saying so, he caused holy lavation in an adjacent pool, and inaugurated as the regnant Regina of his royalty and realm. 11. Then the prince requested her to exert the powers, of her consummation in yoga meditation; and to produce and bring to their presence a large force and retinue, as they wanted and thought suitable to their royal dignity. 12. Hearing these words of prince, the praiseworthy princess produced by the power of her yoga, a body of forces, as large and over-spreading as bodies of out-stretching clouds in the rainy season. 13. They beheld their cloud like forces, to be composed of lines of horses and elephants, and flags flying in the air in the form of scattered clouds, while the forest land was covered over by the feet of foot-soldiers. 14. The sound of music, resounded in the hollow caves of mountains and woods; and the flash of the coronets on the head of the soldiers, drove away the darkness of the sky. 15. Then the royal pair mounted upon a royal elephant, which exuded with the perfume of its ichor; escorted by the army on both sides of their procession. 16. The prince Sikhidhwaja sat with the princess on the same seat, and was accompanied by a mighty force composed of foot-soldiers and chariots, that furrowed the ground as they drove on forward. 17. The mighty force gushed out like a rolling mountain, and seemed to blow off and break down the rock and highlands, as the cyclone carries off every thing in its way. 18. The prince then proceeded from the Mahendra mountain, seeing on both sides the mountains and flatlands, rivers, forests and habitations of men, as he went onward with his great array. 19. He showed and pointed out to his royal consort, the places where he sojourned before, on his way from out of his city, which he now beheld in his heavenly brightness, upon his arrival there in a little time. 20. All his chiefs and chieftains, advanced to meet their prince; and welcomed with shouts of his victory, from their heart felt joy or from the revival of their hopes; on the occasion of his happy return. 21. The prince entered the city, accompanied by his two regiments on both sides, and attended by bands of musicians playing in concord with the singing and dancing party. 22. He passed through the market place, and beheld the beauty of the shops one after the other; and was hailed by groups of the city women, who pelted their handfuls of flowers and fried rice at him, as he passed on by them. 23. He saw numbers of flags and banners hoisted on every side, and beheld strings of pearls hung over the doorways of houses. The women of the city were singing and dancing in merriment all around, and giving it the appearance of Kailasa--the happy abode of gods. 24. He entered his royal palace with all his retinue, and was welcomed by the congratulations of his courtiers and attendants. He gave due honors to all his servants, and then dismissed the train, as he entered the inner apartment. 25. He ordered a festivity to be observed for a week, and then employed himself to the management of the state affairs, and in conducting his meditation in the inner apartment. 26. He reigned over his realm, for the period of a thousand and ten rains; and desisted from bearing the burthen of their bodies, and expired together with his royal consort about the same time. 27. Having quitted his mortal frame, he obtained his extinction like an oilless and extinguished lamp, and attained the state, whence the high minded soul, has no more to return and be reborn on earth. 28. It was by his observance of equanimity, that he enjoyed the peaceful reign of above a thousand years; and had the good fortune to live and die together with the princess, with whom he became extinct in the deity at last. 29. It was by his _sama-drishti_ or view of all persons and things with an even sight and in the same light, and his avoidance of fear and sorrow, together with his want of pride, envy and enmity, and the dispassionateness of his disposition, also his observance of the duties to which he was bound by his birth, that made him put off his death for more than a thousand cold seasons (years), and a peaceful reign for all time, with the co-partner of his felicity. 30. Now Ráma, try to imitate this prince, and be like him in every thing; whose virtues had made him the crown of all other Kings on earth; who enjoyed all the enjoyments of life, and lived a long life until he attended his final state of immortality. Do you, O Ráma! pursue your own callings, and never be sorry at any accident in life. Be ever prompt and vigilant in your duties, and enjoy the prosperity both of temporal enjoyments and spiritual liberations at once. CHAPTER CXI. STORY OF KACHA AND HIS ENLIGHTENMENT BY THE BRIHASPATI Argument:--His coming to knowledge of himself by the instruction of his father Brihaspati. Vasishtha related:--Now I have narrated to you fully, and finished my relation of the narrative of Sikhidhwaja; and hope you will imitate his example, to set you free from all sorrow and misery. 2. Shut out the visible world from thy sight, and shut in thy passions and affections in close confinement within thy heart; and continue with the dispassionateness of thy mind, for ever attached to the supreme spirit. 3. Reign in thy kingdom with the leteration of Sikhidhwaja, and conduct yourself in a manner, that may secure to you the fruition of both worlds (namely--the peace and tranquillity of thy mind in this and the liberation of the soul in the next). 4. As Sikhidhwaja came by degrees to attain his enlightenment, so also did Kacha the son of Brihaspati receive the light of his reason, as I shall now relate unto you. 5. Ráma said, please to tell me sir, in short, how this Kacha the saintly son of the sage Brihaspati, came to his reason and right understanding, after he was deluded before by error as Sikhidhwaja. 6. Vasishtha began by saying:--Hear Ráma, another tale as interesting as that of Sikhidhwaja, and the manner in which Kacha the progeny of the god like Brihaspati was awakened to the light of truth. 7. As he has passed the period of his youth, and was about to enter the career of worldly life, and had ere this acquired the full knowledge of worlds and things, he proposed the following query to his father. 8. He said, tell me, O father, that knowest all righteousness, how the animal spirit that is bound to the body by means of the too thin thread of life, is released from the bondage of it in this temporary world. 9. Brihaspati replied:--The soul, my son, is well able to fly away easily and swiftly over the perilous ocean of the world, by means of its abandonment of concerns with it. 10. Vasishtha added:--Kacha hearing this holy dictum of his father, abandoned all his earthly properties and expectations, and left his house and went to the forest where he took his shelter. 11. Brihaspati was filled with sorrow at his departure; because it is the nature of good hearted men, to feel equal anxiety both at the union as well as the separation of their friends and inmates. 12. After the sinless Kacha had passed three and five years in his solitude, he came to meet unawares his reverent father, seeking for him in the wood. 13. The son rose and did homage to his venerable father, who embraced him in his arms and to his breast; and then bespoke to his father--the lord of speech, in words that flowed like honey from his lips. 14. Kacha said:--You see father, that I have for these full eight years, forsaken every thing and betaken myself to this solitary retreat, and still why is it, that I do not enjoy the lovely and lasting peace of mind which I have been seeking so long? 15. Vasishtha related--Upon hearing these sorrowful words of Kacha, the lord of speech for Brihaspati told him again to abandon his all, and then left him and made his way to the upper sky. 16. After his father's departure, Kacha cast off his mantle made of the bark and leaves of trees; when his frail body appeared out of it like the clear autumnal sky, after the setting of the sun and the stars of heaven. 17. He then removed to another forest, where he took shelter in the cave of a rock, that defended him from rains and rainy clouds, as the autumnal sky protects the landscape from the floods of rain. 18. He lived afterwards all apart on one side of a wood, with his naked body and tranquil and vacant mind, and breathed only the breath of his life; and as he was afflicted on one occasion in this state of his body and mind, he happened to see his father standing before him. 19. The pious son rose from his seat, and did reverence to his sire with all the marks of filial piety; being then clasped in his close embrace, he asked him in his faltering words as follows:-- 20. Kacha said:--Behold my father how I have forsaken every thing, and have even cast away my ragged wrapper and my shelter of reeds and weeds; and yet why is that I do not find my rest in my god, and what must I yet do to attain to that state. 21. Brihaspati said:--I told you my son, to forsake your all, and this all means the mind, which comprehends all things in it; it is by forsaking your mind that you can gain your perfect felicity, because the learned know the mind to be all in all, on account of its being the container of every thing in itself, and there being nothing, besides the ideas of them in our minds. 22. Vasishtha related:--Saying so, the lord of speech--Brihaspati flew hastily into the sky; and his son Kacha, strove henceforth to relinquish the thoughts and operations of his mind. 23. But as found it impossible to subdue his mind, as also to suppress its action and motion; he then recalled his father to his mind, and thought in himself to be got into his presence. 24. He considered in himself, the mind to be no part of his body, nor anything among the known categories in nature; It is quite aloof and apart from all, and therefore perfectly guiltless in itself, why should I then abandon so innocent and constant a companion of mine. 25. I shall therefore have recourse to my father, to learn how and why the mind is accounted as the greatest enemy of men. Learning this fully from him, I will forthwith forsake it from me, and purchase my felicity thereby. 26. Vasishtha related:--Having thought so, Kacha went upward to the upper sky, and meeting the lord of speech there, he bowed down to him, and did his homage with filial love and affection. 27. He then called him aside, and asked him to tell him the true nature and form of the mind, so that he could be enabled to detect it thereby, and forsake it accordingly from him. 28. Brihaspati answered:--The mind is known as the egoism of a man, by men acquainted with the mental science or psychology; the inward feeling of one's egoism, takes the name of his mind and no more. 29. Kacha rejoined and said:--O sire of unlimited understanding, that art the preceptor of thirty-three millions of gods; explain to me this intricate point of identity of the mind or intellect or egoism. 30. I see the difficulty both of forsaking his mind, as also of his forgetting his egoism or self-personality; and own also the impossibility of one's consummation, without his relinquishing both of these; tell me now, O thou greatest of yogi thinkers, how is it possible to get rid of them in any wise. 31. Brihaspati answered:--Why my son, the demolition of our egoism is as easy as the twinkling of our eyelids, and easier far than the crushing of flowers; and there is not the least pain in your rejecting this feeling. 32. Now hear my boy tell you how this is to be done in a trice, and how it is to be removed like long standing bias of ignorance, by the true knowledge of the nature of a thing. 33. There is no such thing in reality my son, as what you call your egoism or personality; it is an unreality appearing as reality, and a false chimera like the ghost of little boys. (Men fear death as children fear to go in the dark, thinking there are ghost and goblins lurking therein of Bacon's Essays). 34. Like the fallacy of water in the mirage, and the mistake of a serpent in the rope; and alike all other errors appearing as truths, the misconception of egoism is a mere delusion of the understanding. 35. As it is the delusion of our vision, that represents a couple of moons in the sky, and shows many things as their doubles; so it is the error of our understanding that presents to us our false egoism, instead of the one real and everlasting ego. 36. There is one real Ego alone, which is without beginning and end, and quite pellucid in itself; it is more transparent than the clear atmosphere, and an Intelligence that knows all things. (Pure omniscience). 37. He is always every where, as the light of all things and the life of all living beings; It is his essence only that spreads throughout all nature and shines in all her phenomena, as the same essence of water, displays itself in all the rolling surges and waves and moving bubbles in the sea. 38. Such being the case, tell me what is this special egoism of ours, and how and whence could a separate personality come to exist; where can you find dust to raise from water, or behold water to spring from fire. (Things of the same kind spring from the same source, and the product is never different from the original). 39. Shun my son your false belief of the difference of this one and that another, and thyself a quite another person (a tertium quid); and abstain to think thyself as a mean and contemptible being confined within the limits of space and time. (_i.e._ Know thyself as identic with the boundless and everlasting spirit and no other). 40. Know thyself (soul) as unbounded by space and time, and ever overspread all over in thy essential transparency, which is always the same in all seeming varieties, the one invariable, pure and simple Intellect. 41. Thyself (soul) is situated, in the fruits, flowers and leaves of all the trees on every side of thee; and abides in every thing like the pith and marrow for its subsistence, and as moisture for its growth. The pure intellect eternally inheres in every thing as its soul and essence, tell me then O Kacha, whence you derive the belief of your egoism and personal existence (as an embodied person). CHAPTER CXII. A FANCIFUL BEING AND HIS OCCUPATION OF AIR DRAWN AND AIR BUILT ABODES. Argument:--Man likened to a fantastic being, his egoism a mere phantasm, and his repeated births and bodies compared to aerial castles. Vasishtha related:--Kacha the son of the divine preceptor Brihaspati, being thus advised by his venerable sire in the best kind of yoga meditation; began to muse in himself as one liberated from his personal entity, and lost and absorbed in essence of the sole and self-existent Deity. So says the sufi Sadi:--"_Dui rachum badar kardam Eke binan Eke danam. &c._" When I kept the duality of my personality out of my sight, I saw before me all blending in one, ineffable blaze of light. 2. Kacha remained quite freed from his egoism and meism, with the tranquillity of his mind, and cut off from all the ties of nature, and all apart from the bonds of worldly life. So I advise you, Ráma, to remain unchanged and unmoved amidst all the changes and movements of earthly bodies and vicissitudes of a mortal life. 3. Know all egoistic personality to total nihility, and never hesitate to remove yourself from this asylum of unreality, whose essence is as nothing at all as the horns of a hare whether you lay hold on it or lose your grasp of it (and as inextricable and inexplicable as the horns of a dilemma). 4. If it is impossible for your egoism to be a reality, why then talk of your birth and demise or your existence and inexistence; which is as it were planting a tree in the sky, of which you can neither reap the fruits or flowers. 5. After annihilation of your egoism there remains the sole ego, which is of the form of intellect only and not that of fickle mind; It is tranquil and without any desire, and extends through all existence; it is minuter and more subtile than the smallest atom, and is only the power of intellection and understanding. (_i.e._ the omniscience). 6. As the waves are raised upon the waters and the ornaments are made of gold; so our egoism springing from the original ego appears to be something different from it. 7. It is our ignorance or imperfect knowledge only that represents the visible world as a magic show, but the light of right knowledge, brings us to see the one and self-same Brahma in all forms of things. 8. Avoid your dubiety of the unity and duality (_i.e._ of the singleness of the prime cause, and variety of its products); but remain firm in your belief of that state, which lasts after the loss of both (_i.e._ the one and all the same). Be happy with this belief, and never trouble yourself with thinking any thing otherwise like the false man in the tale. 9. There is an inexplicable magic enveloping the whole, and this world is an impervious mass of theurgy or sorcery, which enwraps as thickly, as the autumnal mists obscure the firmament, and which is scattered by the light of good understanding. 10. Ráma said:--Sir, your learned lectures, like draughts of nectar, have given me entire satisfaction; and I am as refreshed by your cooling speeches, as the parching swallow is refrigerated by a shower of rain water. 11. I feel as cold within myself, as if I were anointed with heavenly ambrosia; and I think myself raised above all beings, in my possession of unequalled riches and greatness, by the grace of God. 12. I am never satiated to the fullness of my heart, at hearing the orations of thy mouth; and am like chakora or swallow that is never satiate with swallowing dewy moon-beams by night. 13. I confess to thee that I am never surfeited by drinking the sweet of thy speech, and the more I hearken to thee, the more am I disposed to learn from and listen to thee; for who is there so cloyed with the ambrosial honey, that he declines to taste the nectarine juice again? 14. Tell me sir, what do you mean by the false men of the tale; who thought the real entity as a nonentity, and look at the unreal world as a solar and solid reality. 15. Vasishtha related:--Now attend to me, Ráma, to relate unto you the story of the false and fanciful man; which is pleasant to hear, and quite ludicrous and laughable from first to last. 16. There lived once a man, like a magical machine somewhere; who lived like an idiot with the imbecility of his infantine simplicity, and was full of gross ignorance as a fool or block-head. 17. He was born somewhere in some remote region of the sky, and was doomed to wander in his etherial sphere, like a false apparition in the air, or a mirage in the sandy desert. (as a phantom or phantasmagoria). 18. There was no other person beside himself, and whatever else there was in that place, it was but his self or an exact likeness of itself. He saw naught but himself, and aught that he saw he thought to be but his self. 19. As he grew up to manhood in this lonely retreat, he pondered in himself saying: I am airy and belong to the aerial sphere; the air is my province, and I will therefore rule over this region as mine. 20. The air is my proprietory right, and therefore I must preserve it with all diligence, then with this thought he built an aerial house for his abode, in order to protect and rule his etherial dominion. 21. He placed his reliance inside that aerial castle, from where he could manage to rule his aerial domain, and lived quite content amidst the sphere of his airy habitation for a long time. 22. But in course of time his air built castle came to be dilapidated, and to be utterly destroyed at last; as the clouds of heaven are driven and blown away in autumn, and the waves of the sea are dispersed by the breeze, and sunken down in a calm. 23. He then cried out in sorrow, saying; O my air built mansion, why art thou broken down and blown away so soon; and, O my air drawn habitation, where art thou withdrawn from me. In this manner, he wailed in his excessive grief and said; Ah, now I see, that an aerial something must be reduced to an aerial nothing. 24. After lamenting in this manner for a long time, this simpleton dug a cave in the vacuity of the atmosphere; and continued to dwell in that hollow cavity, in order to look up to his aerial realm from below. Thus he remained quite content in the closed air of the cave for a long period of time. 25. In process of time his cell was wasted and washed away, and he became immerged in deep sorrow upon the immersion of his empty cave. 26. He then constructed a hollow pot, and took his residence in its open bowel, and adapted his living to its narrow limits. 27. Know that his brittle earthen pot also, was broken down in course of a short time; and he came to know the frailty of all his habitations, as an unfortunate man finds the fickleness of all the hopes and helps, which he fondly lays hold upon. 28. After the breaking of his pot, he got a tub for his residence (like the tub of Diogenes); and from there he surveyed the heavenly sphere; as any one beholds it from his particular habitation. 29. His tub also was broken down in course of time, by some wild animal; and thus he lost all his stays, as the darkness and the dews of night, are dispelled and sucked up by the solar light and heat. 30. After he had sorrowed in vain for the loss of his tub, he took his asylum in an enclosed cottage, with an open space in the midst, for his view of the upper skies. 31. The all devouring time, destroyed also that habitation of his; and scattered it all about, as the winds of heaven dispersed the dried leaves of trees, and left him to bewail the loss of his last retreat and flitting shelter. 32. He then built a hut in the form of a barn house in the field, and thence watched over his estate of the air, as farmers keep watch and take care of their granaries in the farms. 33. But the driving winds of the air, drove away and dispersed his hovel, as they do the gathering clouds of heaven; and the roofless man had once more to deplore at the loss of his last refuge. 34. Having thus lost all his abodes, in the pool and pot, in the cottage and hut; the aerial man was left to bemoan over his losses, in his empty abode of the air. 35. Being thus situated in his helpless state, the aerial man reflected upon the narrow confines of the abodes, which he had chosen for himself of his own accord; and thought on the multifarious pains and troubles, that he had repeatedly to undergo, in the erection and destruction of all his aerial castles by his own ignorance only. CHAPTER CXIII. THE PARABLE OF THE VAIN MAN CONTINUED. Argument.--Interpretation of the parable of the Aerial man. Ráma said:--Please sir, give me the interpretation of your parable of the false man, and tell me the allusion it bears to the fanciful man, whose business it was to watch the air or sky (and to make his new posts for that purpose). 2. Vasishtha replied:--Hear me, Ráma, now expound to you the meaning of my parable of the false man, and the allusion which it bears to every fanciful man in this world. 3. The man that I have represented to you, as a magical engine (máyá yantra), means the egoistic man, who is led by the magic of his egoism, to look upon the empty air of his personality as a real entity (and whose sole care it is to preserve its vital air as its only property). 4. The vault of the sky, which contains all these orbs of worlds; is but an infinite space of empty void, as it was ere this creation came into existence, and before it becomes manifest to view. 5. There is the spirit of the inscrutable and impersonal Brahma, immanent in this vacuity and becomes apparent in the personality of Brahmá, in the manner of the audible sound issuing out of the empty air, which is its receptacle and support. 6. It is from this also that there rises the subtle individual soul with the sense of its egoism, as the vibration of current winds springs from the motionless air; and then as it grows up in time in the same element, it comes to believe its having an individual soul and a personality of its own. 7. Thus the impersonal soul being imbibed with the idea of its personality, tries to preserve its egoism for ever; it enters into many bodies of different kinds, and creates new ones for its abode upon the loss of the former ones. 8. This egoistic soul, is called the false and magical man; because it is a false creation of unreality, and a production of vain ignorance and imagination. 9. The pit and the pot, and the cottage and the hut, represent the different bodies, the empty vacuity of which, supplies the egoistic soul with a temporary abode. 10. Now listen to me to relate to you the different names, under which our ignorant spirit passes in this world, and begins itself under one or other of these appellations. 11. It takes the various names of the living soul, the understanding, mind, the heart, and ignorance and nature also; and is known among men, by the words imagination, fancy and time, which are also applied to it. 12. In these and a thousand other names and forms, doth this vain egoism appear to us in this world; but all these powers and faculties are mere attributives of the true ego which is imperceptible to us. 13. The world is verily known to rest without its basis, in the extended and vacuous womb of the visible firmament; and the imaginary soul of the egoist is supposed to dwell in it, and feel all its pain and pleasure in vain. (But the sense of the unreality of the world, as also of one's personality, exempts from the sensations of pleasure and pain). 14. Therefore O Ráma, do not like the imaginary man in the fable, place any reliance in your false personality; nor subject yourself like the egoistic man, to the fancied pleasure and misery of this world. 15. Do not trouble yourself, like the erroneous man, with the vain care of preserving your vacuous soul; nor suffer like him the pain of your confinement in the hollow of the pit, pot and others. 16. How is it possible for any body, to preserve or confine the vacuous spirit in the narrow limit of a pot and the like; when it is more extended than the boundless sky, and more subtile and purer than the all pervading air. 17. The soul is supposed to dwell in the cavity of the human heart, and is thought to perish with the decay and destruction of the body; hence people are seen to lament at the loss of their frail bodies, as if it entailed the destruction of their indestructible soul. 18. As the destruction of the pot or any other hollow vessel, does not destroy the subtile air, which is contained in the same; so the dissolution of the body, does not dissolve the embodied and intangible soul. 19. Know Ráma, the nature of the soul, to be as that of the pure intellect; it is more subtile than the circumambient air, and minuter far than the minutest atom; it is a particle of our consciousness only, and indestructible as the all pervasive air, which is never to be nullified. 20. The soul is never born, nor does it die as any other thing at any place or time; it extends over the whole universe, as the universal soul of Brahma, which encompasses and comprehends all space, and manifests itself in all things. 21. Know this spirit as one entire unit, and the only real entity; it is always calm and quiet, and without its beginning, middle and end. Know it as beyond the positive and negative, and be happy with thy knowledge of its transcendental nature. 22. Now extricate your mind from the false cogitation of your egoism, which is the abode of all evils and dangers, and is an unstable thing depending on the life of a man; it is full of ignorance and vanity, and its own destruction and final perdition (in hell fire). Therefore get rid of your egoistic feeling, and rely only on the ultimate and optimum state of the one everlasting Deity. CHAPTER CXIV. SERMON ON DIVINE AND HOLY KNOWLEDGE. Argument:--Consideration of the Real and unreal, and of good and evil; Exhortation to the former and Dehortation from the latter. Vasishtha said:--The mind sprang at first from the supreme spirit of Brahma, and being possest of its power of thinking, it was situated in the Divine soul, and was styled as the Divine mind or intellect. 2. The fickle mind resides in the spirit of God as the feeling of fragrance abides in the cup of a flower; and as the fluctuating waves roll about in a river. Know, Ráma! the mind to radiate from its central point in Brahma, as the rays of the sun extend to the circumference of creation. 3. Men forget the reality of the invisible spirit of God, and view the unreal world as a reality; as deluded persons are apt to believe a serpent in a rope (as they do in magic play). 4. He who beholds the solar beams, without seeing the sun whence they proceed; views them in a different light than the light of the sun. (Whoso sees the world without its God, is an ungodly man, and sees a Godless world). 5. He who looks at the jewel without looking into the gold whereof it is made, is deluded by the finery of the jewellery, without knowing the value of the precious metal of which it is made. 6. He who looks at the sun together with his glory, or sees the sun-beams as not without the sun whence they proceed, verily beholds the unity of the sun with his light, and not his duality by viewing them separately. (The monotheism of vedánta comprises everything in the unity of the Divinity). 7. He who looks on the waves without seeing the sea, wherein they rise and fall, has only the knowledge of the turbulent billows disturbing his mind; and no idea of the calm waters underlying them (like the tranquil spirit of Brahma). 8. But who looks on the waves, without exception of the water of which they are composed; he sees the same water to be in common in all its swellings, and has the knowledge of its unity and commonalty in all its varieties. 9. In this manner, seeing the same gold in its transformation into sundry sorts of jewels; we have the knowledge of the common essence of gold in all of them, notwithstanding their formal distinctions to sight. 10. He who sees the flames only, and is unmindful of the fire which emits the flashes; is said to be ignorant of the material element, and conversant with its transient and evanescent flash only. 11. The phenomenal world presents its aspect in various forms and colours, as the multiform and variegated clouds in the sky; and whoso places his faith and reliance on their reality and stability, has his mind always busied with those changeful appearances. 12. He who views the flame as the same with its fire, has the knowledge of the fire only in his mind, and does not know the duality of the flame, as a thing distinct from its unity. 13. He who is freed from his knowledge of dualities, has his mind restricted to the one and sole unity; he has a great soul that has obtained the obtainable one, and is released from the trouble of diving into the depth of the duality and plurality of all visible objects. 14. Get rid of thy thoughts of the endless multiplicities and varieties of things, and keep thy mind fixed steadily within the cavity of thy pure intellect, and there employ it in the meditation of the supreme Intellect, in privation of the thoughts of all sensible objects. (This is the Buddhistic meditation of the soul only, by abstraction of the mind from all objects of sense). 15. When the silent soul forms in itself its effort of volition, then there rises in it the power of its versatile desires, like the force of the fluctuating winds rising from the bosom of the quiet air. 16. Then there rises the wilful mind from it, as a distinct and independent thing of itself, and thinks in itself as the undivided and universal Mind of the mundane world. 17. Whatever the volitive mind wills to do in this world, the same comes to take place immediately, agreeably to the type formed in its volition. 18. This mind passes under the various names of the living principle, the understanding, the egoism, the heart &c.; and becomes as minute as an animalcule and an aquatic mollusc, and as big as a mountain and fleeter than the swiftest winds. 19. It forms and sustains the world at its own will, and becomes the unity and plurality at its own option; it extends itself to infinity, and shows itself in the endless diversity of objects which fill its ample space. 20. The whole scenery of the universe, is nothing otherwise than a display of the eternal and infinite mind; it is neither a positive reality nor a negative unreality of itself, but appears to our view like the visionary appearance in a dream. 21. The phenomenal world is a display of the realm of the divine mind, in the same manner as the Utopia and Elysium, display the imaginary dominions formed in the minds of men; and as every man builds the airy castle of his mind. 22. As our knowledge of the existence of the world in the divine mind alone, serves to remove our fallacy of the entity of the visible world; so if we look into the phenomenal in its true light, it speedily vanishes into nothing. 23. When we do not consider the visibles in their true colour, but take them in their false colour as they present themselves to view; we find them to ramify themselves into a thousand shapes, as we see the same sea-water in its diversities of the various forms of foam and froth, of bubbles and billows, of waves and surges, and of tides and whirlpools. 24. As the sea bears its body of waters, so doth the mind show itself in the shape of its various faculties (which are in constant motion like the waves of water); the mental powers are always busy with their manifold functions under the influence of the supreme intellect, without affecting its tranquillity. (The movements of the mental powers, can never move the quiet intellect to action). 25. Yet the mind doth nothing otherwise of itself and apart from the dictates of the intellect, whether in its state of sleeping or waking, or in its bodily or mental actions. 26. Know that there is nothing anew, in whatever thou dost or seest or thinkest upon; all of which proceed from the inherent intellect which is displayed in all things, and in all the actions and thoughts of men. 27. Know all these to be contained in the immensity of Brahma, and besides whom there is nothing in existence; He abides in all things and categories, and remains as the essence of the inward consciousness of all. 28. It is the divine consciousness that exhibits the whole of the imaginary world, and it is the evolution of the consciousness, that takes the name of the universe with all its myriads of worlds. 29. Say how and whence rises your supposition of the difference of things from one another, and wherefore you take this thing as distinct from the other; when you will know that it is your consciousness alone that assumes these various forms, and represents itself to you under the various shapes and colours. (If therefore there is no other object of which you are conscious besides our consciousness itself (_i.e._ if there be nothing objective beside the subjective itself); then you have nothing to fear about the bondage of your soul to any object whatsoever; nor anything to care for your liberation from such bondage). 30. Ráma, relinquish at once the vanity of your egotism, together with all its concomitants of pride, self-esteem and others, and give up altogether your thoughts of bondage and liberation (proceeding from the belief of your objectivity and subjectivity); and remain quiet and self subdued in the continued discharge of your duties, like the holy Mahátmás of elevated souls and minds. CHAPTER CXV. DESCRIPTION OF THE TRIPLE CONDUCT OF MEN. Argument.--Siva's interpretations of the three duties of action, Enjoyment and charity to his suppliant Bhringi. Vasishtha said:--Take my advise, Ráma, and strive to be an example or the greatest man in thy deeds, enjoyments, and bounty; and rely in thy unshaken endurance, by bidding defiance to all thy cares and fears. (_i.e._ Remain as a rock against all accidents of life). 2. Ráma asked:--Tell me sir, what is the deed that makes the greatest actor, and what is that thing which constitutes the highest enjoyments; tell me also what is the great bounty, which you advise me to practice. 3. These three virtues were explained long before by the God Siva, who holds the semi-circular disc of the crescent moon on his forehead; to the lord of the Bhringis, who was thereby released from all disease and disquiet. (Were the fair Bhringis the Fringis or Franks of modern times? If not, then who were this class of demigods?). 4. The God who has the horn of the moon as a crown on his head, used to hold his residence of yore, on a northern peak of the north polar mountain, together with all his family and attendants. 5. It happened that the mighty, but little knowing lord of the Bhringis, asked him one day, with his folded palms, and his body lowly bending down in suppliant mood before the godlike lord of Umá. (Umá is the same in sound and sense with Ushá the dawn, appearing from the eastern ridge of the northmost mountain). 6. Bhringi said:--Deign to explain to me, my lord, what I ask thee to tell for my knowledge; for thou knowest all things, and art the God of Gods. 7. Lord! I am overwhelmed in sorrow, to see the boisterous waves of this deep and dark world in which we have been buffeting for ever, without finding the calm and quiet harbour of truth. 8. Tell me, my lord, what is that certain truth and inward assurance, whereon we may rely with confidence, and whereby we may find our rest and repose in this our shattered mansion of this world. 9. The lord replied:--Place always your reliance in your unshaken patience, and neither care nor fear for anything else, and ever strive to be foremost in your action and passion and in your relinquishment of everything (passion and relinquishment here are used in the senses of passivity and liberality). 10. Bhringi rejoined:--Explain to me fully, my lord, what is meant by being the greatest in action and passion; and what are we to understand from the greatest liberality or abandonment of every thing here. 11. The lord replied:--He is said to be the greatest actor, who does his deeds as they occur to him, whether of goodness or of evil, without any fear or desire of fruition. (_i.e._ Who expects no reward of his acts of goodness, nor fears for the retribution of some heinous deed, which he could not avoid to do). 12. He who does his acts of goodness or otherwise, who gives vent to his hatred and affection and feels both pleasure and pain, without reference to any person or thing, and without the expectation of their consequences, is said to be the greatest actor in the theatre of this world. 13. He is said to act his part well, who does his business without any ado or anxiety, and maintains his taciturnity and purity of heart without any taint of egoism or envy. 14. He is said to act his part well, who does not trouble his mind with the thoughts of actions, that are accounted as auspicious or inauspicious, or deemed as righteous or unrighteous, according to common opinion. (_i.e._ Best is the man that relies on his own probity, and is not guided by public opinion). 15. He is said to perform well his part, who is not affected towards any person or thing, but witnesses all objects as a mere witness; and goes on doing his business, without his desiring or deep engagement in it. 16. He is the best actor of his part, who is devoid of care and delight, and continues in the same tone and tenor of his mind, and retains the clearness of his understanding at all times, without feeling any joy or sorrow at anything. 17. He does his duties best, who has the readiness of his wits at the fittest time of action; and sits unconcerned with it at other times, as a retired and silent sage or saint (_i.e._ discharge your business promptly, but be no slave to service). 18. He who does his works with unconcern and without assuming to himself the vanity of being the doer of it, is accounted as the best actor, that acts his part with his body, but keeps his mind quite unattached to it. 19. He is reckoned as the best actor, who is naturally quiet in his disposition and never loses the evenness of his temper; who does good to his friends and evil to his enemies; without taking them to his heart. 20. He is the greatest actor, who looks at his birth, life and death, and upon his rising and falling in the same light; and does not lose the equanimity of his mind under any circumstance whatever. 21. Again he is said to enjoy himself and his life the best, who neither envies anybody nor pines for any thing; but enjoys and acquiesces to whatever is allotted to his lot, with cool composure and submission of his mind. 22. He also is said to enjoy every thing well, who receives with his hands what his mind does not perceive; and acts with his body without being conscious of it and enjoys everything without taking it to his heart. 23. He is said to enjoy himself best, who looks on at the conduct and behaviour of mankind, as an unconcerned and indifferent spectator; and looks upon every thing without craving anything for himself. 24. He whose mind is not moved with pleasure or pain, nor elated with success and gain, nor dejected by his failure and loss; and who remains firm in all his terrible tribulations, is the man who is said to be in the perfect enjoyment of himself. 25. He is said to be in the best enjoyment of himself, who hails with an equal eye of complaisance his decay and demise, his danger and difficulty, his affluence and poverty, and looks on their returns and revolutions, with an eye of delight and cheerfulness. 26. He is called the man of greatest gratification, who sustains all the ups and downs of fortune with equal fortitude, as deep sea contains its boisterous waves in its fathomless depth. 27. He is said to have the highest gratifications who is possest of the virtues of contentment, equanimity and benevolence (lit. want of malice); and which always accompany his person, as the cooling beams cling to the disk of the moon. 28. He too is greatly gratified in himself, who tastes the sour and sweet, the bitter and pungent with equal zest; and relishes a savoury and an unsavoury dish with the same taste. 29. He who tastes the tasteful and juicy, as also the untasteful and dry food with equal zest, and beholds the pleasant as well as unpleasant things with equal delight, is the man that is ever gratified in himself. 30. He to whom salt and sugar are both alike, and to whom both saline as well as saccharine victuals are equally palatable; and who remains unaltered both in his happy and adverse circumstances; is the man who enjoys the best bliss of his life in this world. 31. He is in the enjoyment of his highest bliss, who makes no distinction of one kind of his food from another; and who yearns for nothing that he can hardly earn. (Happy is he, who does not itch beyond his reach). 32. He enjoys his life best, who braves his misfortune with calmness, and brooks his good fortune, his joyous days and better circumstances with moderation and coolness. 33. He is said to have abandoned his all, who has given up the thoughts of his life and death, of his pleasure and pain, and those of his merits and demerits at once from his mind. 34. He who has abandoned all his desires and exertions, and forsaken all his hopes and fears, and effaced all his determinations from the tablet of his mind, is said to have relinquished every thing in this world, and to have freed himself from all. 35. He who does not take to his mind the pains, which invade his body, mind and the senses, is said to have cast away from himself, all the troubles of his mortal state. (Because the mind only feels the bodily and sensuous pains, and its unfeelingness of them is its exemption from troubles). 36. He is accounted as the greatest giver (forsaker) of his all, who gives up the cares of his body and birth (life); and has abandoned the thoughts of acts, deemed to be proper or improper for himself. (These are the social, civil, ceremonial and religious acts, which are binding on worldly people). 37. He is said to have made his greatest sacrifice, who has sacrificed his mind and all his mental functions and endeavours, before the shrine of his self-abnegation. 38. He who has given up the sight of the visibles from his view, and does not allow the sensibles to obtrude upon his senses, is said to have renounced all and every thing from himself. 39. It was in this manner that the lord of gods Mahádeva, gave his instructions to the lord of the Bhringis; and it is by your acting according to these precepts, that you must, O Ráma! attain to the perfection of your self-abnegation. 40. Meditate always on the everlasting and immaculate spirit, that is without its beginning and end; which is wholly this entire immensity and has no part nor partner, nor representative nor representation of itself. By thinking in this way you become immaculate yourself, and come to be extinct in the self-same Brahma, where there is all peace and tranquillity. 41. Know one undecaying Brahma, as the soul and seed of all various works or productions that are proceeded from him. It is his immensity which spreads unopened throughout the whole existence; as it is the endless sky which comprehends and manifests all things in itself. 42. It is not possible for anything at all, whether of positive or potential existence, to subsist without and apart from this universal essence of all, rely secure with this firm belief in your mind, and be free from all fears in the world. 43. O most righteous Ráma, look always to the inner soul within thyself, and perform all thy outward actions with the outer members of thy body, by forsaking the sense of thy egoism and personality; and being thereby freed from all care and sorrow, thou shalt attain to thy supreme felicity. CHAPTER CXVI. MELTING DOWN OF THE MIND. Argument.--The Dissolation of the Mind and its Affections, as the only way for salvation of the soul. Ráma said:--O all-knowing sage please to tell me, what becomes of the essence of the soul after one's egoism is lost in his mind, and both of them are dissolved into nothing. 2. Vasishtha replied:--However great and predominant is one's egoism over himself, and how much so ever its concomitant evils of pride and ignorance, may overpower on man; yet they can never touch the pure essence of the soul, as the water of the lake can not come in contact with the lotus-leaf. 3. The purity of the soul appears vividly in the bright and placid countenance of a man, after his egoism and its accompanying faults are all melted down in his mortified mind. 4. All the ties of our passions and affections are cut asunder and fall off, upon breaking the string of our desires, our anger becomes weakened, and our ignorance wears out by degrees (our desire or greediness being the root of all evils). 5. Our cupidity is weakened and wearied, and our covetousness flies away far from us; our limbs become slackened, and our sorrows subside to rest. 6. It is then that our afflictions fail to afflict as our joys cease to elate us; we have then a calm every where and a coldness in our heart. 7. Joy and grief now and then overcast his countenance, (as a cloud and sunbeam hide the face of the sky); but they cannot over shadow his soul, which is bright as eternal day. 8. The virtuous man becomes a favourite of the Gods, after his mind is melted down with its passions; and then there rises the calm evenness of his soul, resembling the cooling beams of the moon. 9. He bears a calm and quiet disposition, offending and opposing to none, and therefore loved and honored by everyone; he remains retired and assiduous to his task, and enjoys the serenity of his soul at all times. 10. Neither wealth nor poverty, nor prosperity or adversity, however opposite they are to one another; can ever affect or mislead or elate or depress the minds of the virtuous (who have already melted them down in themselves). 11. Accursed is the man that is drowned in his ignorance, and does not seek the salvation of his soul, which is easily obtainable by the light of reason, and which serves to save him from all the difficulties of this world. (Reliance in the immortality of the soul, supports a man amidst all earthly calamities). 12. He that wants to obtain his longed for felicity, by getting over the waves of his miserable transmigrations in the vast ocean of this world; must always inquire in himself as what am I, and what is this world and what am I to be afterwards; what means this short lived enjoyments here, and what are the fruitions of my future state. These inquiries are the best expedients towards the salvation of the soul. CHAPTER CXVII. DIALOGUE BETWEEN MANU AND IKSHAKU. Argument:--Manu's Exposition of the Inquiries what am I &c. to Ikshaku. Vasishtha said:--Know Ráma, that the renowned king Ikshaku was the first founder of your race; and learn O thou progeny of that monarch, the manner in which he obtained his liberation. 2. Once on a time when this monarch was reigning over his kingdom, he came to think upon the state of humanity in one of his solitary hours. 3. He thought in himself as to, what might be the cause of the decay, disease, and death, as also of the sorrow, pleasure and pain, and likewise of the errors to which all living beings are subject in this mortal world. 4. He pondered long upon these thoughts, but was unable to find out the cause he so earnestly sought, and happening to meet the sage Manu one day, coming to him from Brahmá-loka or the seat of Bráhmans, he proposed the same queries to him. 5. Having honoured the lord of creatures, as he took his seat in his court; he said to him to be excused for asking him some questions to which he was impelled by his impatience. 6. It is by thy favour sir, that I take the liberty of asking thee the question, regarding the origin of this creation, and the original state in which it was made. 7. Tell me, what is the number of these worlds, and who is the master and owner thereof; and when and by whom is it said to be created in the vedas. 8. Tell me, how I may be extricated from my doubts and erroneous opinions regarding this creation, and how I may be released from them like a bird from its net. 9. Manu replied:--I see O king, that you have after a long time come to exercise of your reasoning, as it is shown by your proposing to me so important a question as this. 10. All this that you see nothing real (they are merely phenomenal and unsubstantial); they resemble the fairy castles in the air, and the water in the mirage of sandy deserts. So also anything which is not seen in reality, is accounted nothing in existence. 11. The mind also which lies beyond the six senses, is reckoned as nothing in reality; but that which is indestructible, is the only thing that is said to exist, and is called the _Tatsat_ the only being in reality. 12. All these visible worlds and successive creations, are but unsubstantial appearances in the mirror of that real substance. 13. The inherent powers of Brahma, evolve themselves as shining sparks of fire; and some of these assume the forms of the luminous worlds; while others appear in the shapes of living souls. 14. Others again take many other forms, which compose this universe; and there is nothing as bondage or liberation here, except that the undecaying Brahma is all in all; nor is there any unity or duality in nature, except the diversity displayed by the Divine Mind, from the essence of his own consciousness (samvid). 15. As it is the same water of the sea, which itself is in the various forms of its waves; so doth the Divine Intellect display itself in every thing, and there is nothing else beside this. Therefore leave aside your thoughts of bondage and liberation and rest, secure in this belief from the fears of the world. (This is pantheistic belief of one God in all). CHAPTER CXVIII. CONTINUATION OF THE SAME. Argument:--Manu's answers to the other questions of Ikshaku as "Whence is this creation &c." Manu continued:--It is by the divine will, that the living souls of beings are evolved from the original intellect, (in which they are contained), as the waves rise from the main body of waters contained in the ocean. 2. These living souls, retain the tendencies of their prior states in former births, and are thereby led to move in their course of light or ignorance etc. in this world, and to accordingly subject either to happiness or misery, which is felt by the mind and never affects the soul itself. 3. The invisible soul is known in the knowable mind, which is actuated by it (the soul); as the invisible node of Rahu, becomes visible to us in the eclipse of the moon (which is affected by it): (so the mind acting under the impulse of the soul, becomes liable to pain or pleasure according to its desert). 4. Neither the preceptor of sástras nor the lectures of our spiritual preceptors, can show the supreme spirit before our sight; but it is our spirit which shows us the holy spirit, when our understanding rests in its own true essence (apart from its egoism and meism). 5. As travellers are seen to be journeying abroad with their minds, free from all attainment and aversion to any particular object or spot; so the self-liberated souls are found to sojourn in this world, quite unconcerned even with their bodies and the objects of their senses. 6. It is not for good and Godly men either to pamper or famish their bodies, or quicken or weaken their senses; but to allow them to be employed with their objects at their own option. 7. Be of an indifferent mind (udásina) with regard to your bodies and all external objects; and enjoy the cool composure of your soul, by betaking yourself entirely to your spirituality. 8. The knowledge that "I am an embodied being" is the cause of our bondage in this world; and therefore it is never to be entertained by them, that are seekers of their liberation. 9. But the firm conviction that "I am no other than an intellectual being, and as rarefied as the pure air"; is the only belief that is able to extricate our souls from their bondage in this world. 10. As the light of the sun pierces and shines, both within and without the surface of a clear sheet of water; so doth the light of the Holy spirit, penetrate and shine both inside and outside of the pure souls of men, as well as in everything else. 11. As it is the variety of formation, that makes the various kinds of ornaments out of the same substance of gold; so it is the various dispositions of the one soul, that makes the difference of things in the world. (The same soul exhibiting itself in sundry forms). 12. The world resembles the vast ocean, and all its created are like the waves upon its surface; they rise for a moment, only to be succumbed to the latent flame of their insatiable desires. 13. Know all the worlds to be absorbed in the vast ocean of the universal soul of God, as all things are devoured by death or time (Kála), and lie buried like the ocean itself in the insatiable womb of Agastya or Eternity. 14. Cease to consider the bodies of men as their souls, and to behold the visibles in a spiritual light; rely solely in thy spiritual self, and sit retired from all except alone with thyself. 15. Men are seen foolishly to wail for the loss of their souls, though lying within themselves; as a fond mother moans on missing her child, forgetful of its sleeping upon her lap. (We miss our souls though situated within ourselves). 16. Men bewail for themselves as lost upon the loss of their bodies, and exclaim as it saying "Oh I am dead and gone" and so on, not knowing that their souls are ever undecaying and imperishable. 17. As the fluctuation of water shows many forms upon its surface, so the will of God exhibits the forms of all things in the divine Intellect. (Just as the active principle of our imagination, represents endless varieties of scenes in the mirror of our minds). 18. Now king, keep the steadiness of your mind, repress thy imagination and the flights of thy fancy; call thy thoughts home and confine them to thyself; remain calm and cool and unperturbed amidst all perturbations, and go and rule thy realm with thy self possession. CHAPTER CXIX. THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. Argument.--On the Expansion of Divine Powers, and the Perfection of Human Soul. Manu resumed:--The Lord with his creative power exerts his active energy, and plays the part of a restless boy (in his formation of the worlds); and again by his power of re-absorption he engulphs all into himself, and remains in his lonesome solity. 2. As it is his volition that gives rise to his active energy for action, so it is his nolition that causes the cessation of his exertion, and the intromission of the whole creation in himself. 3. As the light of the luminous sun, moon and fire, and as the lustre of brilliant gems spread themselves on all sides; and as the leaves of trees put forth of themselves, and as the waters of a cataract scatter their liquid particles all about. 4. So it is the lustration of divine glory, which displays itself in the works of creation; which appears to be intolerable to the ignorant, who know not that it is the self-same god though appearing to be otherwise. 5. O! it is a wondrous illusion that has deluded the whole world, which does not perceive the divine spirit, that pervades every part of the universe. 6. He who looks on the world as a scenery painted in the tablet of the Divine Intellect, and remains unimpressible and undesirous of every thing, and quite content in his soul, has put an invulnerable armour upon himself (which no dart of error has the power to pierce). 7. How happy is he who having nothing, no wealth nor support, has yet his all by thinking himself as the all intelligent soul. 8. The idea that this is pleasurable and the other is painful, being the sole cause of all pains and anxiety, it is the consuming of these feelings by the fire of our indifference to them, that prevents the access of pain and affliction unto us. 9. Use, Oh King! the weapon of your restless anaesthesia (samádhi), and cut in twain the feeling of the agreeable and disagreeable, and pare asunder your sensation of love and hatred by the sword of your manly equanimity. 10. Clear the entangled jungle of ceremonious rites (karma kanda), by the tool of your disregard of the merit or demerit of acts (dharma adharma); and relying in the tenuity of your soul (as rarer than the rarefied air), shake off all sorrow and grief from you. 11. Knowing thy soul to be full of all worldly possessions, and driving all differences from thy mind, bind thyself solely to reason (viveka) and be free from all fabrications (kalpaná) of mankind; know the supreme bliss of the soul, and be as perfect and unfailing as itself, and being embodied in the intellectual mind, remain quite calm and transparent, and aloof from all the fears and cares of the world. CHAPTER CXX. CONTINUATION OF THE SAME. ON THE SEVEN STAGES OF EDIFICATION. Argument:--The three stages of the seekers of Liberation, and the three others of the Liberated. Manu continued:--Enlightenment of the understanding by the study of the sástras and attendance on holy and wise men, is said to be the first stage of yoga by yogis. (These seven stages have been spoken of before in other words in the Utpatti-prakarana). 2. Discussion and reconsideration of what has been learnt before, is second stage of yoga; the third is the rumination of the same in one's self and is known under the name of _nididhyásana_ or self-communion of meditation. The fourth is silent meditation in which one loses his desires and darkness in his presence before the light of God. (This is called the atmásakshyat kara also; and all these four stages are expressed in the vedic text. [Sanskrit: átmáváre svítavá mantabá nididhyásitava karttavasveti]). 3. The fifth stage is one of pure consciousness and felicity, wherein the living-liberated-devotee remains in his partly waking and partly sleeping state. (This is half hypnotism). 4. The sixth stage in one's consciousness of ineffable bliss, in which he is absorbed in a state of trance or sound sleep. (This is known as samádhi or hypnotism). 5. One's resting in the fourth and succeeding stages, is called his liberation, and then the seventh stage is the state of an even and transparent light, in which the devotee loses his self consciousness. 6. The state above turya or fourth stage, is called _nirvána_ or extinction in God; and the seventh stage of perfection relates to disembodied souls only and not to those of living beings. 7. The first three stages relate to the waking state of man, and the fourth stage concerns the sleeping state, in which the world appears in the manner of a dream. 8. The fifth stage is the stage of sound sleep, in which the soul is drowned in deep felicity; and the unconsciousness of one's self in the sixth stage, is also called his turya or fourth state: (because it is beyond the three states of waking, sleeping or dreaming and sound sleep [Sanskrit: jagatnidrasusuptáh]). 9. The seventh stage is still above the _turya_ state of self-unconsciousness; and which is full of divine effulgence, whose excellence no words can express nor the mind can conceive. 10. In this state the mind being withdrawn from its functions, it is freed from all thoughts of the thinkables, and all its doubts and cares are drowned in the calm composure of its even temperament. 11. The mind that remains unmoved amidst its passions and enjoyments, and is unchanged in prosperity and adversity, and retains full possession of itself under all circumstances, becomes of this nature both in its embodied and disembodied states of life and death. 12. The man that does not think himself to be alive or dead, or to be a reality or otherwise; but always remains joyous in himself, is one who is verily called to be liberated in his life time. (The happy minded are accounted as liberated in life). 13. Whether engaged in business or retired from it, whether living with a family or leading a single life (_i.e._ whether leading a social or solitary mode of life), the man that thinks himself as naught but the intellect, and has nothing to fear or care or to be sorry for in this world, is reckoned as liberated in this life. 14. The man who thinks himself to be unconnected with any one, and to be free from disease, desire, and affections; and who believes himself to be a pure aerial substance of the divine intellect, has no cause to be sorry for anything. 15. He who knows himself to be without beginning and end, and decay and demise, and to be of the nature of pure intelligence; remains always quiet and composed in himself, and has no cause for sorrow at all. 16. He that deems himself to belong to that intellect, which dwells alike in the minute blade of grass, as well as in the infinite space of the sky, and in the luminous sun, moon and stars, and as also in the various races of beings, as men, Nágas and immortals; has no cause whatever for his sorrow. 17. Whoso knows the majesty of the divine intellect, to fill all the regions both above and below and on all sides of him, and reflects himself as a display of his endless diversity, how can he be sorry at all for his decay and decline. 18. The man that is bound to (or enslaved by his desire), is delighted to have the objects he seeks; but the very things tending to his pleasure by their gain, prove to be painful to his heart at their loss. (Hence the wise are never elated or dejected, at either gain or loss of temporal things, but are ever pleased and content with their spiritual souls only which they can never lose). 19. The presence or absence of some thing, is the cause of the pleasure or pain of men in general; but it is either the curtailment or want of desires that is practiced by the wise. (The diminishing of desires is practiced by yogis in the fourth and its two succeeding stages; but its utter annihilation occurs only in the seventh and last stage of yoga). 20. No act of ours nor its result (whether good or bad), conduces either to our joy or grief, which we do with unconcern or little desire or expectation of its reward. 21. Whatever act is done with ardent employment of the members of the body, and the application of the whole heart, mind and soul to it, such an act tends to bind a man; otherwise an indifferent action like a fried grain, does not germinate into any effect. 22. The thought that I am the doer and owner of a deed, overpowers all bodily exertions, and sprouts fourth with results, that are forever binding on the doer (_i.e._ an indifferent action may pass for nothing, but a conscious and meditated act is binding on the actor). 23. As the moon is cool with her cooling beams; and the sun is hot by his burning heat; so a man is either good or bad according as the work he does. 24. All acts which are done or left undone, are as fugacious as the flying cotton on cotton trees; they are easily put to flight by the breath of understanding (Jnána or wisdom). All the acts of men are lost by discontinuance of their practice (as in Jnána khanda). 25. The germ of knowledge growing in the mind, increases itself day by day, as the corn sown in good ground soon shoots forth into the paddy plant. 26. There is one universal soul, that sparkles through all things in the world, as it is the same translucent water, that glistens in lake and large oceans and seas. 27. Withhold sir, your notions of the varieties and multiplicities of things, and know these as parts of one undivided whole, which stretches through them as their essence and soul. CHAPTER CXXI. CONTINUATION OF THE SAME. Argument.--The causes of the Elevation and degradation of living being. Manu continued:--The soul is originally full of bliss by its nature, but being subject to ignorance, it fosters its vain desire for temporal enjoyment, whence it has the name of the living soul (which is subjected to misery). This corresponds with the scriptural doctrine, that man was originally made in the image of his Maker (_i.e._ full of bliss); but being tempted by delusion to taste the forbidden sweetness, became the mortal and miserable human soul. 2. But when the desire of pleasure, is lessened by the _viveka_ or discriminative knowledge of man, he forsakes his nature of a living and mortal being, and his soul becomes one with the supreme spirit. (Man by his knowledge retrieves his godly nature). 3. Do not therefore allow your desire of earthly enjoyment, to draw your soul up and down to heaven and hell; as a bucket tied in its neck with a cord, is cast down and again lifted up from a well. 4. Those selfish folks who claim something as theirs from that of another, are grossly mistaken and led into error, and are destined like the dragging bucket to descend lower and lower. (The more niggardliness the more degradation or the more selfishness the greater baseness). 5. He who gets rid of his knowledge that, this is I and that is another, and that this is mine and that is the others, gradually rises higher and higher according to his greater disinterestedness. (Disinterestedness characterises an elevated mind). 6. Delay not to rely your dependance in your enlightened and elevated soul, stretching over and filling the whole space of the sky, end comprehending all the worlds in it. (This magnanimity is characteristic of the catholicity of Hindu religion). 7. When the human mind is thus elevated and expanded beyond all limits, it then approaches the divine mind, and is assimilated to it. (This extinction is called its nirvána). 8. Any one who has arrived to this state, may well think in himself to be able to effect whatever was done by the Gods Brahmá, Vishnu, Indra (by his intellectual body Varuna and others; who were of such elevated souls and minds). 9. Whatever acts are attributed to any of the Gods or other persons, is no more than the display of divine pleasure in that form. 10. Whoso is assimilated to the divine intellect, and has become deathless and unmindful of his mortal state, has a share of supreme felicity for his enjoyment, which bears no comparison: (unspeakable delight attends on the soul of the spiritualist). 11. Continue to think this world as neither a vacuum nor a plenum; nor a material or spiritual substance. It is neither an intellectual being, nor a quite insensible thing.[A] [A] Should you think it a nullity by the Sruti which says _neti-neti_ it is naught, you deny the creatorship of God, who has created it as something substantial and tangible. Again on the other hand, if you consider it as a hypostatic reality, you introduce in that case positive duality, beside the reality of one unity alone. So every other position being liable to objection, you must think it as neither the one nor the other, but as something incomprehensible, or reflexion of the Divine Mind. 12. By thinking in this way, you will have composure of your disposition, or else there is no separate place or time or condition for your liberation or salvation. 13. It is by the absence of our egoism and ignorance, that we get rid of our personal existence, and it is our contemplation of the nature of God, and his presence before us in our meditation (sákshat kára) of him, that constitutes our _moksha_ or liberation. 14. It is the even delight and perpetual tranquillity of the soul, that constitutes our bliss and liberation; and these are to be obtained by means of calm and cool reasoning in the sense of sástras, avoiding all impatience and fickleness of our mind and temper, and the pleasure derived from our taste in poetry and light studies and trifling amusement. (It requires us to be free from the fluctuations of our desires and options of which there is no end). CHAPTER CXXII. THE SAME. MANU'S ADMONITION TO IKSHAKU. Argument.--On the Elevation of Humanity and its ultimate liberation. Manu continued:--Now the living liberated yogi, in whatever manner he is clad, and however well or ill fed he may be, and wherever he may sleep or lay down his humble head, he rests with the joy of his mind, and in a state of perfect ease and blissfulness, as if he were the greatest emperor of the world. (Hence the fakirs are called _shah sahibs_ by people). 2. He breaks down all the bonds of his caste and creed, and the rites and restraints of his order by the battery of the sástra; and roves freed from the snare of society, as a lion breaking loose from his cage, and roaming rampant every where. (Here the sástra means the upanishads on the esoteric faith of spiritual freedom). 3. He has his mind abstracted from all sensible objects, and fixed on an object which no words can express (_i.e._ the unspeakable rapture of his mind); and he shines forth with a grace in his face, resembling the clearness of an autumnal sky. 4. He is always as deep and clear (_i.e._ grave in his mind and clear headed), as a large lake in a valley; and being rapt in holy and heavenly joy, he is always cheerful in himself, without his care for or want of anything else. 5. He is ever content in his mind without having anything for his dependance, or any expectation of the reward of his actions; and is neither addicted to any meritorious or unworthy acts, nor subject to joy or grief for aught of pleasure or pain. 6. As a piece of crystal does not receive or emit any other colour in its reflexion, excepting that of its pure whiteness; so the spiritualist is not imbued with the tinge of the effects of his actions. (_i.e._ The spiritualist does not benefit by the retribution of his acts). 7. He remains indifferent in human society, and is not affected either by the torture or subministration of his body; he deems his pain and pleasure as passing on his shadow, and never takes them to his heart, as they do not touch his intangible soul. (It was by virtue of this indifference, that the holy saints did not shrink under their persecutions and martyrdom). 8. Whether honoured or slighted by men, he neither praises nor is displeased with them; and remains himself either connected or unconnected with the customs and rules of society. 9. He hurts no body, nor is hurt by any; and may be free from the feelings of anger or affection, fear and joy (and other passions which are allotted to humanity). 10. No one can have the greatness of mind of his own nature, but it is possible for the author of nature, to raise the greatness of mind even in a boy. 11. Whether a man quits his body (dies) in a holy place, or in the house of a low chandála; or whether one dies at this moment (in youth), or many years afterwards (in old age). 12. He is released from his bondage to life, no sooner he comes to his knowledge of the soul and gets rid of his desires; because the error of his egoism is the cause of his bondage, and the wasting of it by his knowledge, is the means of his liberation. 13. He the living liberated man is to be honoured and praised, and to be bowed down to with veneration, and regarded with every attention, by every one who is desirous of his prosperity and elevation. (Because we honour ourselves by honouring the great). 14. No religious sacrifice nor wilful austerity, no charity nor pilgrimage, can lead us to that supremely holy state of human dignity; which is attainable by us only by our respectful attendance upon the godly, who have got rid of the troubles of the world. (Hence attendance on saints and at their holy shrines, is accounted as productive of our sanctity). 15. Vasishtha said:--The venerable sage Manu, having spoken in this manner, departed to the celestial abode of his sire Brahmá; and Ikshaku continued to act according to the precepts, which were delivered to him by the sacred seer. CHAPTER CXXIII. ON THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE KNOWING AND UNKNOWING. Argument.--Theoretical and Practical Yogas and the practices of Aerial journey &c. Ráma said:--Tell me sir, that art most learned in spiritual knowledge, whether the living liberated man of this kind (as you have described) attains to any extraordinary power; (or remains neutral with his theoretical knowledge of yoga only). 2. Vasishtha replied:--The all-knowing sage, has sometimes a greater knowledge of one thing than another, and has his mind directed in one particular way than any other; but the learned seer of a contented mind, has his soul quite at rest in itself. 3. There are many that have by their consummate knowledge of particular mantras, tantras, and the virtues of certain minerals, attained the power of aerial flight &c.; but what is there that is extraordinary in these (when these powers are in constant practice in the flight of ordinary birds and flies?). 4. So the powers of self-expansion and contraction &c., have been acquired by others by their constant practice of the same, (anima, laghima and the like), which are disregarded by other seers in spiritual knowledge. 5. There is this difference of these knowing seers, from the bulk of idle practitioners in yoga, that they are content with their dispassionate mind, without placing any reliance in practice. 6. This is verily the sign of the unconspicuous seer in yoga, that he is always cool and calm in his mind, and freed from all the errors of the world; and in whom the traces of the passions of love and anger, sorrow and illusion and the mischances of life are scarcely visible. CHAPTER CXXIV. THE STORY OF THE STAG AND THE HUNTSMAN. Argument.--Degradation of the divine soul of man to the state of the animal soul. Vasishtha said:--Know now that the Lord (Divine soul), stops to take upon itself of the nature of the living or animal soul, as a Brahman (by birth) assumes the character of a vile sudra for some mean purpose, by disregarding the purity of its original nature. (This is the degradation of the lordly and blissful soul, to the state of the sensitive animal soul, by reason of its meaner propensity). 2. There are two kinds of living beings, that come into existence in the beginning of the repeated creations; the one coming into existence without any causality, and are thence called to be causeless or uncaused (such as that is they are not made like pots and the like (_ghatádi_)), by means of the instrumental causality of the potters wheel, stick &c. 3. Thus the soul emanating from the Divine, is subjected to various transmigrations, and becomes many kinds of beings (in succession), according to its previous acts and propensities. (Thus it is the tendency of the soul towards good or evil, that is the cause of its rise and fall or elevation or degradation). 4. All beings emanate originally without any cause, from the source of the divine essence; and then their actions become the secondary cause of continuous transmigrations (until the end of the world). (All souls are bound to their revolutions in repeated births, until their final extinction in the deity on the last day of resurrection, or by their prior liberation by _mukti_ or _nirvána_). 5. The personal acts of men, are the causes both of their happiness as well as misery; and again the will which is produced by the conscious knowledge of one's self, becomes the cause of the action (_i.e._ the will proceeding from one's consciousness of himself, is the cause of his action, which again becomes the cause of his pleasure or pain as its result). 6. Now this will or desire of any action or fruition, being likewise the cause of one's bondage to this world, it is to be got rid of for his liberation from it; and this what they call _moksha_, is no more than our release from the bond of our desire. (Every wish enchains the soul to earth, and drags it along to repeated birth). 7. Be therefore careful to make your choice of what is right and proper, from whatever is wrong and improper; and try betimes to contract your wishes within the narrowest scale. 8. Do not let yourself to be possessor or possest of any thing or person, but give up thinking on anything, beside what remains after the thoughts of all other things. (_i.e._ Think alone of thine and the supreme soul, which remains in the absence of everything else). 9. Anything to which the senses are addicted at all times, serves to bind the soul the more that it has its zest for the same; as also to unbind and release the mind in proportion to the distaste which it bears to it. (_i.e._ Love a thing to be enslaved to it, and hate the same to be saved from it). 10. If there is anything which is pleasing to thy soul, know the same as thy binding string to the earth; if on the contrary thou findest nothing to thy liking here, you are then freed from the trammels of all the trifles on earth. 11. Therefore let nothing whatever tempt or beguile thy mind, to anything existent in either the animate or inanimate kind; and regard everything from a mean straw to a great idol as unworthy of thy regard. 12. Think not thyself to be either the doer or giver, or eater or offerer, of whatsoever thou doest or givest, or eatest or offerest in thy holy oblations of the Gods; but art quite aloof from all thy bodily actions, owing to the immaterial nature of thy self or soul. 13. Concern not thyself with thy past acts, or thy cares for future, over which thou hast no command; but discharge well thy present duties, as they are and come to thy hand. 14. All the feelings and passions of men, as their appetites, desires and the rest, are strung together with their hearts; and therefore it is requisite to sever these heart strings with the weapon of a brave and strong heart (because the feelings are fostered in weak hearts and minds only). 15. Now break your sensuous mind by the power of your reasoning mind, and restrain its rage of running into errors; as they break the iron pegs by force of iron hammers (and remove one thing by another of the same kind--similia similibus curantur.) 16. So intelligent men rub out one dirt by another, and remove one poison by another poisonous substance; and so do soldiers oppose one steel by a weapon of the same metal. 17. All living beings have a triple form, composed of the subtile, solid and the imperceptible spiritual bodies; now lay hold and rely on the last, in utter disregard of the two former. 18. The solid or gross body, is composed of the hands, feet and other members and limbs; and subsist in this nether world upon its subsistence of food only. 19. The living being has an intrinsic body also, which is derived from within; and is composed of all its wishes in the world, and is known as the mental or intellectual part of the body. 20. Know the third form to be the transcendental or spiritual body, which assumes all forms, and is the simple intellectual soul; which is without its beginning or end, and without any alteration in its nature. 21. This is the pure turya state, wherein you must remain steadfast as in that of your living liberation; and reject the two others, in which you must place no reliance. 22. Ráma said:--I have understood the three definite states, of waking, dreaming, and sound sleep, as they have been defined to me; but the fourth state of _turya_ is yet left undefined, and I beg you to explain it clearly unto me. 23. Vasishtha answered:--It is that state of the mind, in which the feelings of one's egoism and non-egoism, and those of his existence and inexistence are utterly drowned under a total impassibility; and the mind is settled in one invariable and uniform tenor of tranquillity and transparency. 24. It is that state in which the selfish feelings of mine and thine, are altogether wanting; and in which one remains as a mere witness and spectator of the affairs of life. This is the _turya_ state of living liberation. (It is the state of a philosopher who lives to see and philosophise and mix with nothing). 25. This is neither the state of waking, owing to its want of any wish or concern, nor it is the state of sound sleep, which is one of perfect insensibility. 26. It is that calmness in which the wise man sees every thing, to be going on in the world; and it is like the state of insensibility of the ignorant, in which they perceive no stir in the course of the world. (The calmness of the wise like the dullness of others is their _turya_ also). 27. The evenness of the mind after subsidence of every jot of its egotism in it, like the setting of the turbid waters underneath, is the _turya_ state of the _insouciance_ of the soul. 28. Hear me relate to you an instance on this subject, which will confer as clear a light to your enlightened mind, as that of all seeing Gods. 29. It happened once that a huntsman, roaming for his prey in some part of a forest, chanced to see a sage sitting silent in his solitude; and thinking it as something strange, he accosted him saying:-- 30. Have you seen, O sage, a wounded stag flying before me this way, with an arrow fixed in its back? 31. The sage replied:--You ask me, where your stag has fled; but my friend, know that sages like ourselves and living in the forest, are as cool as blocks of stone (and insensible of every occurrence on earth). 32. We want that egoism which enables one, in conducting the transactions of the world; and know my friend, that it is the mind, which conducts all the actions of the senses. (All actions of the organs of senses being under the direction of the mind, as well as all sensible perceptions under its attention). 33. Know that the feeling of my egoism, has been long before dissolved in my mind; and I have no perception whatever of the three states of waking, dreaming and sound sleep. But I rest quiet in my fourth state of impossibility, wherein there is no vision of the visibles. 34. The huntsman heard these words of the sage, but being quite at a loss to comprehend its meaning, he departed to his own way without uttering a word. 35. I tell you therefore, O Ráma, there is no other state beyond the fourth or _turya_ quietism; it is that unalterable impassivity of the mind, which is not to be found in any other. 36. The waking, dreaming and sound sleep, are the three palpable conditions of the mind; and these are respectively the dark, quiet and insensible states, in which the mind is situated in this world. 37. The waking state presents us the dark complexion of the mind, for its susceptibility of all the passions and evils of life; and the sleeping state shows us its quiet aspect, for want of its cares and anxieties. 38. The state of sound sleep is one of insensibility, and the state beyond these three bears the feature of death in it. Yet this dead like figure possesses the principle of life in it, which is diligently preserved by yogis from harm and decay. 39. Now Ráma, the soul which remains in its quiet rest, after its renunciation of all desire, is said by sages to be in the coma or cool calmness of itself, and the liberated state of the holy and devout yogi on earth. CHAPTER CXXV. THE MEANS OF ATTAINING THE STEADINESS OF THE TURYA STATE. Argument.--The means of attaining stability on Insouciance. Vasishtha resumed:--Know Ráma, that the conclusion which is arrived at in all works on spiritual philosophy, is the negation of every thing except the entity of the supreme soul; and that there is no principle of ignorance (avidyá) nor that of delusion (máyá), as a secondary agent under one quiescent Brahma, who is ever without a second. 2. The spirit of the Lord is always calm, with the serene brightness of the divine Intellect in itself; it is full of its omnipotence, and is attributed with the appellation of Brahma. 3. The Divine Spirit is ascertained by some as the formless vacuum itself, and by others as omniscience, and is called as the Lord God by most people in the world. 4. Do you avoid all these, O sinless Ráma, and remain quite silent in yourself, and be extinct in the divine essence, by restraining the actions of your heart and mind and by the tranquillity of your soul. 5. Have a quiet soul in yourself, and remain as a deaf and dumb man in your outward appearance; look always within yourself, and be full with the Divine Spirit. 6. Discharge the duties of your waking state, as if you are doing them in your sound sleep; forsake every thing in your inward mind, and do whatever comes to thee outwardly, without taking any into thy heart. 7. The essence of the mind is only for one's misery, as its want is for his highest felicity; therefore the mind must be drowned in the intelligent soul, by destroying the action of the mental powers altogether. 8. Remain as cold as a stone, at the sight of anything, which is either delightsome or disgusting to thee; and by this means learn to subdue everything in the world under thy control. 9. The objective is neither for our pleasure or pain, nor is it the intermediate state of the two; therefore it is by diligent attention to the subjective, that we can attain the end of all our misery. (Live to thyself alone and unmindful of all others, in order to be completely blest). 10. He who has known the supreme soul, has found within himself a delight; resembling the cooling beams of the full bright moon; and being possest of the full knowledge of the essence of all things in the three worlds, performs his parts in a manner as he did not attend to them. CHAPTER CXXVI. DESCRIPTION OF THE SPIRITUAL STATE. Argument:--The seven stages of yoga Meditation, and the true state of spirituality. Ráma said:--Tell me sir, the practices of the seven stages of yoga; and the characteristics of yogis in every stage. 2. Vasishtha related:--Know Ráma, mankind to be divided into two classes of the zealous and resigned (_i.e._ the active and the inactive); the one expectant of heavenly reward, and the other inclined to supreme felicity. Know now their different characters as follows:-- 3. Those that are addicted to enjoyments, think the quietude of _nirvána_ as nothing to their purpose, and give preference to worldliness above the final bliss of others; and he that acts his part on this sense, is styled an active and energetic man. 4. Such a man of the world bears his resemblance to a tortoise, which though it has its neck well hid in its shell, still stretches it out to drink the salt water of the sea it inhabits; until after many births, he gets a better life for his salvation (as when the tortoise is removed to a lake of fresh water). 5. But he who reflects on the nothingness of the world, and the uselessness of his situation in it; such a man does not allow himself to be carried on, by the current of his old and rotatory course of duties here in day after day. 6. And he who reflects in himself, after being released from the burden of his business, on the delight of his rest after labour, he is the man who is said to repose in his quiescence. 7. When a man comes to reconnoitre in himself, how he shall become dispassionate, and get over the boisterous ocean of the world; such a man is said to have come to his good and right sense, and to stand on the way to his tolerance. 8. He who has an unfeelingness in his heart, of the very many thoughts that daily rise in his mind; and manages his gravest and greatest concerns, without being much concerned about them in his mind; each a man is said to taste the delight of his stayedness day by day. 9. He who condemns the rustic amusements and mean employments of men; and instead of taking up the faults and failings of others for his merry talk, employs himself to meritorious acts. 10. Whose mind, is engaged in agreeable tasks and unpainsome acts; who is afraid of sin, and disdains all pleasures and bodily enjoyments. 11. Whose discourses are full of love and tenderness, and appropriate without any harshness; and whose speeches are suitable to the time and place in which they are delivered. 12. Such a man is said to stand on the first step of yoga, when he makes it his duty to attend the society of the good and great, whom he learns to imitate in his thoughts, words, and actions. 13. He collects also the work on divine learning from every where, and reads with attention and diligence; he then considers their contexts, and lays hold on the tenets, which serve to save him from this sinful world. 14. Such a man is said to have come upon the (first) stage of yoga, or else he is a hypocrite who assumes the guise of a yogi for his own interest only. The yogi then comes to the next step of yoga, which is styled the stage of investigation--_Vichára_. 15. He then hears from the mouths of the best pandits, the explanations of the srutis and smritis, the rules of good conduct, and the manner of meditation and conduct of yoga practice. 16. He then learns the divisions of categories and distinction of things, together with the difference between actions that are to be done or avoided; all which being heard from the mouth of an adept in yoga, will facilitate his course through the other stages, in like manner as the master of a house enters with facility into every apartment of his dwelling. (The guidance of a _guru_ or spiritual guide, is essential to the practice of yoga). 17. He wears off his outer habit of pride and vanity, his jealousy and avarice, and the other passions which formed as it were an outer garment of his person, as a snake casts off his slough from him. 18. Having thus purified his mind (from the vile passions), he attends to the service of his spiritual preceptors and holy persons, and makes himself acquainted with the mysteries of religion. (This is the second stage of yoga, which is one of moral discipline and search after truth). 19. He then enters into the third stage of unsociality or avoidance of all company, which he finds to be as agreeable to him as a bed of flowers. (Lit.: a bedstead be strewn with flowers). 20. Here he learns to fix his mind to its steadiness, according to the dictates of the sástras; and passes his time in talking on spiritual subjects, in society of hermits and devotees. 21. He sits also with the dispassionate _Vairágis_, and religious recluses _sanyásis_ who are disgusted with the world; and relying on the firm rock of his faith, he wears out his long life with ease. 22. He passes his moral life with cheerful delight of his loneliness, and pleasing tranquillity of his mind in his woodland retreat and wanderings. 23. By study of holy books and performance of religious acts, he gets a clear view of things, as it generally attends upon the virtuous lives of men. 24. The sensible man who has arrived to the third stage of his yoga practice, perceives in himself two kinds of his unconnectedness with the world, as you will now hear from me. 25. Now this disconnection of one with all others is of two sorts, one of which is his ordinary disassociation with all persons and things, and the other is his absolute unconnection with every thing including himself. (_i.e._ One's entire irrelation with both the subjective and objective). 26. The ordinary unconnection is the sense of one's being neither the subject or object of his action, nor of his being the slayer of or slain by anybody; but that all accidents are incidental to his prior acts (of past lives), and all dependant to the dispensations of Providence. 27. It is the conviction that, I have no control over my happiness or misery or pain or pleasure; and that all prosperity and adversity, employment and privation, and health and disease, ever betide me of their own accord. 28. All union is for its disunion, and all gain is for its loss; so the health and disease and pain and pleasure come by turns, and there is nothing which is not succeeded by its reverse. Because time with its open jaws, is ever ready to devour all things. 29. The negative idea of inexistence, which is produced in the mind, from our want of reliance in the reality of things; is the very sense which is conveyed by the phrase of our ordinary unconnection with all things. 30. With this sort of the disunion of every thing in the mind, and our union with the society of high minded men; and disassociation with the vile and unrighteous, and association with spiritual knowledge:-- 31. These joined with the continual exertion of our manliness in our habitual practice of these virtues, one assuredly arrives to the certain knowledge of what he seeks (_i.e._ his god), as clearly as he sees a globe set in his hands. 32. The knowledge of the supreme author of creation, sitting beyond the ocean of the universe, and watching over its concerns; impresses us with the belief, that it is not I but God that does every thing in the world, and that there is nothing that is done here by me, but by the great God Himself. 33. Having left aside the thought of one's self agency on any act, whoso sits quiet silent and tranquil in himself, such a one is said to be absolutely unconnected with every thing in the world. 34. He that does not reside within or without anything, nor dwells above or beneath any object; who is not situated in the sky, or in any side or part of the all surrounding air and space; who is not in anything or in nothing, and neither in gross matter nor in the sensible spirit. 35. Who is present and manifest in every thing, without being expressed in any; and who pervades all things like the clear firmament, who is without beginning and end and birth and death. Whoso seeks this Lord of all, is said to be set in the best part of this stage. 36. Contentment is as sweet fragrance in the mind, and virtuous acts are as handsome as the leaves of a flower; the heart string is as stalk beset by the thorns of cares and anxieties, and thralls with the gusts of dangers and difficulties. 37. The flower of inward discrimination, is expanded like the lotus-bud, by the sun-beams of reason, and produces the fruit of resignation in the garden of the third stage of yoga-practice. 38. As it is by association with holy men, and by means of the assemblage of virtuous acts, that one arrives on a sudden to the first stage of yoga:-- 39. So is this first step to be preserved with care, and grown up like a tender sprout, with the watering of reasoning at its root (in order to lead it to the succeeding steps or stages). 40. The yoga practitioner like a good gardener, must foster the rising plant of spiritual knowledge, by the daily application of reasoning to every part of it. (The parts of the plant of spirituality, are its dispassionateness, unworldliness and the like, which require to be reared up by proper reasoning). 41. This stage being well managed, and all its parts being properly performed, introduces the succeeding stages (all of which depend on the first as their basis). 42. Now the better state of the third stage, as it has been already described, is one of all desires and arrogations in the mind of the yogi. 43. Ráma said:--Now tell me sir, what is the way of the salvation of an ignorant man, of one of a base birth, and addicted to baseness himself; who has never associated with the yogis, nor received any spiritual instruction. 44. Who has never ascended on any of the first, second or succeeding stages of yoga, and is dead in the like state of ignorance in which he was born. 45. Vasishtha replied:--The ignorant man that has never attained to any of the states of yoga in his whole life, is carried by the current of his transmigration to rove in a hundred births, until he happens by some chance or other, to get some glimpse of spiritual light in any one of them. 46. Or it may be that one happens to be dissatisfied with the world, by his association with holy men; and the resignation which springs thereby, becomes the ground of one of the stages of his yoga. 47. By this means, the man is saved from this miserable world; because it is the united voice of all the sástras, that an embodied being is released from death, no sooner he has passed through any one stage of yoga (or union with his maker). 48. The performance of a part only of some of the stages of yoga, is enough for the remission of past sins; and for conducting the expurgated person to the celestial abode in a heavenly car. (The wicked man turning from his wickedness, and doing what is right and saveth his soul). 49. He enjoys the Parnassian groves of Sumeru in company with his beloved, when the weight of his righteous acts, outweighs those of unrighteousness. 50. The yogi, released from the trap of his temporal enjoyments, and has passed his allotted period; expires in due time, to be reborn in the houses of yogis and rich men, or in the private mansions of learned, good and virtuous people. 51. Being thus born, he betakes himself to the habitual practice of the yoga of his former birth; and has the wisdom to begin at once at the stage to which he was practiced, and which was left unfinished before (hence arises the difference in the capacities of youth). 52. These three stages, Ráma, are designated the waking state; because the yogi retains in them his perception of the differences of things, as a waking man perceives the visible to differ from one another. 53. Men employed in yoga acquire a venerable dignity (in their very appearance), which induce the ignorant to wish for their liberation also (in order to attain to the same rank). 54. He is reckoned a venerable man, who is employed in all honorable deeds, and refrains from what is dishonourable, who is steadfast in the discharge of all his social duties, whether they are of the ordinary kind or occasional ones. 55. He who acts according to customary usage, and the ordinances of sástras; who act conscientiously and according to his position; and thus dispenses all his affairs in the world, is verily called a venerable man. 56. The venerableness of yogis germinates in the first stage, it blossoms in the second, and becomes fruitful in the third stage of yoga. 57. The venerable yogi dying in state of yoga, comes first to enjoy the fruition of good desires for a long time (in his next birth); and then becomes a yogi again (for the completion of his yoga). 58. The practice of the parts enjoyed in the three first stages of yoga, serves to destroy at first the ignorance of the yogi, and then sheds the light of true knowledge in his mind, as brightly as the beams of full-moon illume the sky at night. 59. He who devotes his mind to yoga, with his undivided attention from first to last, and sees all things in one even and same light, is said to have arrived to the fourth stage of yoga. 60. As the mistake of duality disappears from sight, and the knowledge of unity shines supremely bright; the yogi is said in this state to have reached the fourth stage of yoga, when he sees the world as a vision in his dream. 61. The first three stages, are represented as the waking state of the yogi; but the fourth is said to be the state of his dreaming, when the visibles disappear from his sight; as the dispersed clouds of autumn gradually vanish from sight, and as the scenes in a dream recede to nothingness. 62. They are said to be in the fifth stage, who have their minds lying dormant in them, and insensible of their bodily sensations. This is called the sleeping state or hypnotism of yoga meditation. 63. In this state there is an utter stop of feelings, of the endless varieties of things and their different species, in the mind of the yogi, who relies in his consciousness of an undivided unity only; and whose sense of a duality is entirely melted down and lost in the cheerfulness of his wakeful mind. 64. The fifth stage is likewise a state of sound sleep, when the yogi loses all his external perceptions, and sits quiet with his internal vision within himself. 65. The continued sedateness of his posture, gives him the appearance of his dormancy, and the yogi continues in this position, the practice of the mortification of all his desires. 66. This step leads gradually to the sixth stage, which is a state of insensibility both of the existence and inexistence of things as also of one's egoism and non-egoism (of his own entity and non-entity). 67. The yogi remains unmindful of everything, and quite unconscious of the unity or duality, and by being freed from every scruple and suspicion in his mind, he arrives to the dignity of living liberation. (This tetrastich is based on the sruti which says, [Sanskrit: bhidyate hadayagranyi, chidyate svvammshyayah tasmindvashte parávare]). 68. The yogi of this sort though yet inextinct or living, is said to be extinct or dead to his sensibility; he sits as a pictured lamp which emits no flame, and remains with a vacant heart and mind like an empty cloud hanging in the empty air. 69. He is full within and without him, with and amidst the fulness of divine ecstasy, like a full pot in a sea; and possest of some higher power, yet he appears as worthless on the outside. 70. After passing his sixth grade, the yogi is led to the seventh stage; which is styled a state of disembodied liberation, from its purely spiritual nature. 71. It is a state of quietude which is unapproachable (_i.e._ inexpressible) by words, and extends beyond the limits of this earth; it is said to resemble the state of Siva by some, and that of Brahmá by others. (The two views of the Tántrikas and Vedántists). 72. By some it is said to be the state of the androgyne deity, or the indiscriminate of the male and female powers; while others have given many other denominations to it, according to their respective fancies. (The other systems have different appellations to designate this state). 73. The seventh is the state of the eternal and incomprehensible God, and which no words can express nor explain in any way. Thus Ráma, have I mentioned to you the seven stages of yoga (each branding the other in its perfections). 74. By practice of these perfections, one evades the miseries of this world; and it is by subjection of the indomitably elephantine senses, that one can arrive to these perfections. 75. Hear me relate to you Ráma, of a furious elephant, which with its protruded tusks, was ever ready to attack others. 76. And as this elephant was about to kill many men, unless it could be killed by some one of them; so are the senses of men like ferocious elephants of destruction to them. 77. Hence every man becomes victorious in all the stages of yoga, who has the valour of destroying this elephant of its sensuality the very first step of it. 78. Ráma said:--Tell me sir, who is this victorious hero in the field of battle, and what is the nature of this elephant that is his enemy, and what are these grounds of combat where he encounters him, and the manner how he foils and kills this great foe of his. 79. Vasishtha replied:--Ráma! it is our concupiscence which has the gigantic figure of this elephant, and which roams at random in the forest of our bodies, and sports in the demonstrations of all our passions and feelings. 80. It hides itself in the covert of our hearts, and has our acts for its great tusks; its fury is our ardent desire of anything, and our great ambition is its huge body. 81. All the scenes on earth are the fields for its battle, where men are often foiled in their pursuit of any. 82. The elephant of concupiscence kills members of miserly and covetous men, in the state of their wish or desire, or exertions and effort, or longing and hankering after anything. 83. In this manner does this fierce greediness, lurk in the sheath of human breast under the said several names, and it is only our forbearance from those desires, that serves as the great weapon of their destruction. 84. This ubiquious desire of our possession of everything in the world, is conquered by reflection on the ubiquity of the soul in all of them; and that the unity of my soul, stretches over and grasps all things that I covet. 85. He is doomed to suffer under the colic pain of this venomous avarice, who minds to continue in this world, in the manner as it goes on with the rest of mankind. 86. It is the mitigation of the smart poison of avarice, that is our highest wisdom, and it is our liberation, when the calm and cooling countenance of inappetency appears to our sight. 87. Words of advice stick to the sapient mind, as drops of oil adhere on glass mirror; and that our indifference to the world is the only preventive of its thorns, and is the best advice to the wise. 88. It is as advisable to destroy a desire by the weapon of indifference, no sooner it rises in the breast, as it is proper to root out the sprout of a poisonous plant, before it spreads itself on the ground. 89. The concupiscent soul, is never freed from its miserliness; while the mere effort of one's indifference, makes it set quiet in itself (without cringing at others). 90. It is by your carelessness about everything, and by your lying down as supine as a dead carcass, that you can kill your desire by the weapon of your indifference, as they catch and kill fishes with hooks (by sitting silent beside some pond or lake). 91. Let this be mine or that I may have it, is what is called desire by the wise; and the want of every desire for wealth &c., is called resignation by them. 92. Know that the remembrance of some thing, is alike the desire of having the same in one's possession again; and it includes both what was enjoyed before or next. 93. O high minded Ráma, you must learn to remain as a block in your mind, by forgetting whatever you think of or otherwise; all of which must be buried in oblivion, for your estrangement from the world. (Retire, the world shut out, imagination's airy wing repress--Young). 94. Who will not lift up his arms, and have his hairs standing at their end, to hear and reflect in himself that, want of desire is the summum bonum of every one's desire. (Desire of nothing is the most desirable thing, is a paralogism in logic). 95. It is by sitting quite silent and quiet, that one attains to the state of his supreme felicity, a state before which the sovereignty of the world seems as a straw. 96. As a traveller traverses on foot through many regions, in order to reach to his destination, so the yogi passes through all his ordinary acts, to reach his goal of final bliss. 97. What is the good of using many words, when it can be expressed in a few; that our desire is our strongest bondage, and its want our complete liberation. 98. Now Ráma, rest quiet in your joy, with knowing that all this creation is full of the increate, everlasting, undecaying and tranquil spirit of God; and sit quiet and delighted in yourself with viewing the visibles in their spiritual sense. 99. Know that it is the ignoring of every thing and the quiet posture of the yogi, which is called as yoga by the spiritual; and continue to discharge your duties even in your yoga state, until you get rid of them by the privation of your desires. 100. It is also the unconsciousness of one's self, which is likewise styled yoga by the wise; and it consists of the entire absorption of one's self in the supreme, by wasting away his mind and all its operations. 101. Again this self absorption is the conceiving of one's self, as he is the all pervasive spirit of Siva, which is increate, self-conscious and ever benevolent to all. This conception of one's self is tantamount to his renunciation of every thing besides himself. 102. He who has the sense of his egoism and meism (_i.e._ that this is I and these are mine), is never released from the miseries of life; it is the negation of this sensation that produces our liberation, and therefore it is at the option of every body, to do either this or that for his bondage or salvation. CHAPTER CXXVII. ADMONITION TO BHARADWÁJA. Argument:--Relation of the Quietude of Ráma, and the Queries of Bharadwája; with further description of states of waking and others, and of the ultimate turíya condition of the fourth stage of yoga. Bharadwája asked:--Válmíki saying:--Tell me sir, what did Ráma do after hearing the lecture of the sage; whether he with his enlightened understanding put any other question, or remained in his ecstatic quietude with his full knowledge of yoga and the supreme soul. 2. And what did next that supremely blest yogi (Vasishtha) do, who is adored by all and honoured even by Gods; who is a personification of pure understanding, and free from the state of birth and death; who is fraught with every good quality and kindly disposed for ever to the welfare and preservation of the peoples in all the three worlds. 3. Válmíki replied:--After hearing the lecture of Vasishtha, combining the essence of the vedánta philosophy, the lotus-eyed Ráma became perfectly acquainted with the full knowledge of yoga. 4. He felt the failing of his bodily strength, and the falling of the members of his body, he stared with his glaring eyes, and his clear intellect was shrouded under a cloud. He awoke in a moment from his entranced state, and felt a flood of rapturous joy within himself. 5. He forgot the fashion of putting his questions, and hearing their answers; his mind was full with the ambrosial draught of delight, and the hairs of his body stood up like prickles in his horripilation. 6. An inexpressibly ineffable light overspreads his intellect with its unusual glare; which cast the bright prospects of the eight dignities of yoga into utter shade. (The eight dignities--(_ashta-siddhis_) are so many perfections arrived at by practice of yoga). 7. In this way did Ráma attain the supereminent state of Siva, in which he sat sedate without uttering a word. 8. Bharadwája said:--Oh! how much I wonder at such a high dignity, which Ráma had attained; and how much I regret at the impossibility of its attainment, by a dull and ignorant sinner as myself. 9. Tell me, O great sage, how it may be possible for me to attain to that stage of perfection, which it is impossible for the gods Brahmá and others to arrive at any time; and tell me likewise, how I may get over the unfordable ocean of earthly troubles. 10. Válmíki replied:--It is by your perusal of the history of Ráma from its first to last, and by your following the dictates of Vasishtha as given in these lectures; as also by your consideration of their true sense and purport in your understanding, that you may be able to attain to the state that you desire. This is all that I can tell you at present. 11. The world is an exhibition of our ignorance, and there is no truth in aught that we see in it; it is a display of our error only, wherefore it is entirely disregarded by the wise, and so much regarded by fools. 12. There is no entity of anything here, beside that of the divine Intellect; why then are you deluded by the visibles, learn their secrets and have a clear understanding. (or have the clearness of your understanding). 13. The perception of the delusive phenomenals, resembles the waking dream of day dreamers; and he alone is said to be waking, who has the lamp of his intellect ever burning within himself. 14. The world is based on vacuity, and it ends in vacuum also; its midmost part being vacuous likewise, there is no reliance placed upon it by the intelligent and wise. 15. Our primeval ignorance (avidyá) being accompanied by our primordial desires, it presents all what is inexistent as existing in our presence; just as our fancy paints an Utopia or fairy city to our view, and as our sleep shows its multifarious dreams before us. 16. Being unpracticed to taste the sweet plantain of your beneficent intellect, you are deluded greedily to devour the delirious drug of your desire, and make yourself giddy with draughts of its poisonous juice. 17. He who lays hold on true knowledge for his support, never falls down into the pit of ignorance during his wakeful state; and those who depend on their subjective consciousness alone (as in the _turíya_ or fourth stage of yoga), stand above all the other states (of fallibility). 18. So long as the adepts in yoga, do not plunge themselves (lit.--their souls), in the fresh and sweet waters of the great fountain of their consciousness; they must be exposed to the boisterous waves of the dangerous ocean of this world. (Spiritual knowledge alone saves a man from the troubles of life). 19. That which has no existence before, nor will remain to exist afterwards (such as all created and perishable things in the world); must be understood to be inexistent in the interim also, as our night dreams and fleeting thoughts that are never in being, and so is this world and whatever is seen in it. 20. All things are born of our ignorance, as the bubbles are swollen by the air; they glisten and move about for a moment, and then melt into the sea of our knowledge. 21. Find out the stream of the cooling waters of your consciousness, and plunge yourself deep into it; and drive out all external things from you, as they shut out the warm and harmful sun-beams from their houses. 22. The one ocean of ignorance surrounds and over floods the world, as the single salt sea girds and washes the whole island; and the distinctions of ego and tu etc., are the waves of this salt sea of our erroneousness. 23. The emotions of the mind, and its various feelings and passions, are the multiform billows of this sea of ignorance; our egoism or selfishness is the great whirlpool, in which the self willed man is hurled of his own accord. 24. His love and hatred are the two sharks, that lay hold of him in their jaws; and drag him at last into the depth (or to his death), which no body can prevent. 25. Go and plunge yourself in the calm and cooling sea of your solitude, and wash your soul in the nectareous waters of your ambrosial solity; dive and dive deep in the depth of unity, and fly from the salt sea of duality, and the brackish waves of diversities. 26. Who is lasting in this world, and who is passing from it, who is related to anyone, and what does one derive from another; why are you drowned in your delusion, rise and be wakeful (to your spiritual concerns). 27. Know thyself as that one and very soul, which is said to be diffused all over the world; say what other thing is there except that and beside thee, that you should regret or lament for (since the one soul is all and that is thyself, thou hast all in thee, and there is nothing for thee to regret that thou hast not or dost require to have). 28. Brahma appears to the ignorant boys, to be diffused through all the worlds; but the learned always rely on the undiffused felicitous soul of God. 29. It is the case of unreasonable men, to grieve as well as to be pleased on a sudden and without cause; but the learned are always joyous, and it is a sad thing to find them in error. 30. The truth of the nice subtility of the divine soul, is hid from eyes of the ignorant; and they are as doubtful about its nature, as men are suspicious of land and water where they are not. (Water appears as ground in dark, and sand seems as water in the barren desert). 31. See the great bodies of the earth, air, water and sky, which are composed of atomic particles, to be so durable as to last for ever; why then mourn at the loss of anything in the world (which is never lost at all). 32. From nothing comes nothing, and something cannot become nothing; it is only the appearance of the form, which takes place in the substance of things. 33. But it is by virtue of the prior acts in the former births of men, that they are reborn in different shapes to enjoy or suffer the results of those acts; adore therefore the lord God and author of the worlds, who is always bountiful and bestower of all blessings. 34. The worship of this God destroys all our sins, and cuts off the knots of snares of this world. 35. You may worship Him in some form or other, until your mind is cleared and your nature is purified; and then you can resort to the transcendent spirit of the formless Deity. 36. Having overcome the impervious gloom of ignorance, by force of the purity of thy nature; you may pursue the course of the yoga, with the contrition of your inner soul, and belief in the sástras (and in the dictates of your spiritual guide). 37. Then sit a moment in your fixed meditation (samádhi), and behold the transcendent spirit in thy own spirit; in this state the dark night of your former ignorance, will break forth into open and bright daylight. 38. It must be by one's manly exertion or by virtue of the meritorious acts of former births only, as also by grace of the great God, that men may obtain the obtainable one. (The unknown God is said to be knowable and obtainable by yoga only). 39. It is neither the birth nor character, nor the good manners nor valour of a man, that ensures him his success in any undertaking, except it be by the merit of his acts in former births. 40. Why sit you so sad to think of the events of inscrutable and unavoidable fate, since there is no power nor that of God himself to efface what has been already written destined in the forehead (or luck) of anybody. (Fate overrules even _Jove_ himself). 41. Where is the expounder of intellectual science, and where is the pupil that can comprehend it fully; what is this creeping plant of ignorance, and what is this inscrutable destiny, that joins two things together, are questions too difficult to be solved. 42. O Bharadwája! Let your reason assist you to overcome your illusion, and then you will no doubt gain an uncommon share of wisdom. 43. See how a high mettled hero overpowers on all his imminent dangers, and stretches his conquest far and wide; and behold on the other hand, how a mean spirited man is tried and grieves at the ordinary casualties of life. 44. A good understanding is the result of, and attendant upon the meritorious deeds of many lives; as it appears in the acts of wise men, and in the lives of all living liberated persons. 45. Know my son, that the same action is fraught both with your freedom as well as bondage, accordingly as it proves favourable or adverse to you. (As true faith is attended with salvation, but false faith or hypocrisy with damnation). 46. The righteous acts of virtuous men, serve to destroy the sins of their past lives; as the showers of rain water, extinguish the flame of a conflagration in the forest. 47. But my friend, I would advise you rather to avoid your religious acts, and attach your mind to the meditation of Brahma, if you want to avoid your falling into the deep eddy of this world. (Because all actions bind a man to the world over and over again). 48. So long as one is attached to the outer world, being led to it by his insatiable desires, or so long as one is led by the insatiable desires of his mind, to attach himself to the outer world; he is exposed to the contrary wind and waves of the sea, and has only to find his rest in the calm water of his loneliness. 49. Why do you lean so much upon your sorrow only to blind your understanding, rather support yourself on the strong staff of your good understanding, and it will never break under you. 50. Those who are reckoned in the number of the great men, never allow themselves to be altered and moved by their joy or grief; and to be carried away like straws by the current of the river. 51. Why do you sorrow, friend, for these people, who are swinging in the cradle of the circumstance of life in the dark night of this world, and playing their several parts with giddy amusement. 52. Look at the gamesome time, that sports joyously in this world, with the slaughter and production of endless beings by turns. 53. There is no body of any age or sex for his game in particular, he chases all in general like the all devouring dragon. 54. Why talk of mortal men and other animals, that live to die in a moment; even the whole body of gods (said to be immortals), are under the clutches of the remorseless and relentless death. 55. Why do you dance and make yourself merry in your amusement, when you are in danger of losing by degrees the powers of your body and limbs; sit but silently for a while, and see the drama of the course of this world (combining its comedy and tragedy together). 56. Seeing the ever varying scenes of this changeful theatre of the world, the wise spectator, O good Bharadwája, never shrinks nor shudders for a moment (knowing such to be its nature). 57. Shun your unwelcomed sorrow, and seek for the favourable amidst all that is unfavourable; nor sadden the clear and cheerful countenance of your soul, which is of the nature of the perfectly blissful intellect of God. 58. Bear always your reverence towards the gods, Bráhmans and your superiors; and be a friend even to irrational animals; in order to meet with the grace of God, according to the dicta of the vedas (that the grace is the leader to the light of truth, and thereby to the way of liberation). 59. Bharadwája rejoined:--I have known by your kindness all these and much more of such truths, and come to find that, there is not a greater friend to us than our indifference to the world, nor a greater enemy than this world itself to us. 60. I want to learn at present the substance of all the knowledge, which was imparted by the sage Vasishtha, in many works of great verbosity. 61. Válmíki answered:--Hear now, Bharadwája, of the highest knowledge (which is taught by that sage) for the salvation of mankind; and the hearing of which will save you from your drowning in the iniquities of the world. 62. First bow down to that supreme being, who is of the nature of the sole entity combined with intellect and felicity; (all which are his forms in the abstract), and who is ever existent with his attributes of creation, sustentation and destruction: (which are said to be so many states of himself). 63. I will tell you in short, and upon the authority of the sruti; how you may come to the knowledge of the first principle, and the manner in which it exhibits itself in the acts of creation, preservation and destruction of the universe. 64. But tell me first, how you have lost your remembrance of what I have told you on this subject; since it is possible by your reconsideration of all that from first to last, to know every thing from your own memory, as they have a survey of the earth from a small globe in their hand. 65. Now consider all this in your own mind, and you will get the truth which will prevent all your sorrows; associate moreover with the learned and study the best books, which with the help of your reasoning and resignation, may lead you to endless felicity. CHAPTER CXXVIII. RESUSCITATION OF RÁMA. Argument.--Bharadwája's Enlightenment and the duties of the Enlightened. Válmíki continued:--The yogi should be peaceful and tranquil, and exempt from all forbidden acts and those proceeding from a desire of fruition; he must avoid all sensual gratifications, and have his belief in God and his holy religion of the vedas. 2. He must rest quiet in his seat, and have his mind and members of the body under his control; and continue to repeat the syllable Om, until his mind is cleared (from all its doubts). 3. He must then restrain his respiration, for the purification of his inner organs (the heart and mind); and then restrict his senses by degrees, from their respective outward objects. 4. He must think on the natures and causes of its body and its organs of sense, of his mind and its understanding, as also of his soul and its consciousness; and repeat the srutis or the holy texts which relate to these subjects. 5. Let him sit reclined in the meditation of Virát, the God of visible nature at first, and then in the internal soul of nature; next to this he must meditate on the formless spirit, as a part and abstracted from all; and at last fix his mind in the supreme cause alone. (Rising from the concrete to the discrete deity). 6. Let him cast off in his mind, the earthly substance of his flesh and bones to the earth; and commit the liquid part of his blood to the water, and the heat of his body to fire. 7. He is then to consign the airy and vacuous parts of his body to air and vacuum, and after having thus made over his elemental parts to the five elements; he shall deliver the organs of his sense to the particular divinities from whom they are derived. 8. The ears and other organs, which are for the reception of their respective from all sides, being cast aside on all sides, he is to give the skin of his body to electricity (which imparts to it the sensations of heat and cold by the electric shock). 9. Let him then resign his eye sight to the solar disc, and his tongue to water, he must next give up his breath to air, his voice to fire, and his palms to the god Indra (water and fire mean Varuna and Agni--the regent gods of these elements). 10. He must then offer his feet to the god Vishnu, and his anus to Mithra; and after giving up his penis to Kasyapa, he should dedicate his mind to the moon. 11. He must afterwards lay down his understanding to Brahmá, and the other inward faculties to special divinities, and at last abdicate his outer senses also to their presiding duties. 12. Having thus resigned his whole body to the gods, he should think himself as the all comprehending Viráta; and this he must do in pursuance to the dictates of the veda, and not of his own will or fabrication. 13. The lord that embodies the whole universe in himself, in his androgynous form of half-male and half-female, is said to be the source and support of all sorts of beings. 14. He was born in the form of creation, and it is he that is settled in everything in the universe; and caused this earth to appear from the bipartite mundane egg, as also the water which is twice as much as the land. 15. He produced the heat twice as much as the water, and the air also which is double in its volume to that of heat, and lastly the vacuum which is twice more in its extent than the air which it contains. Each latter one lying next above the former. (So the sruti:--each succeeding one is above its preceding element). 16. These form the world whether they are divided or undivided from their succeeding and surrounding ones; the earth being girt by the sea, and the same by submarine fire. 17. Thus the yogi by contracting his thought of the former one under the latter, will engross his thought of heat under that of air, and this again under his idea of vacuum, which last is swallowed up by his thought of the great cause of all. 18. In this manner must the yogi remain for a moment in his spiritual form only, by contraction of his corporeal body (composed of the elemental particles, his desires and prior acts and his primeval ignorance--avidyá), under the same (because the material part is contained under the spiritual, and not the latter under the former as it is erroneously supposed by materialist). 19. The spiritual body is represented by the wise, to be composed of the ten senses of perception and conception, the mind or memory and the understanding faculties; which is above and outside the corporeal half of the mundane egg. The yogi must think himself to be this supermundane spiritual being. (This form is styled Hiranyagarbha). 20. The former or intramundane half, which is composed of the quadruple subtile elements, is represented by the figure of the four faced Brahmá; and differs from the former by its being an evolution of unevolved spirit. 21. That nameless and formless being in which the world subsists, is called Prakriti or matter by some, and Máyá or delusion by others, and also as atoms by atomic philosophers. 22. The same is said to be ignorance--_avidyá_, by agnostics, whose minds are confused by false reasoning; and it is after all that hidden and unknowable something, in which all things are dissolved at the ultimate dissolution of the world. 23. Again everything which is quite unrelated with the divine spirit and intellect (_i.e._ material substance); comes to existence at the recreation of the world; and retains and remains in its primary form to the end of the world. 24. Think of creation in the direct method, and of its destruction in the reversed order; and then betake yourself to the fourth stage of turíya, after you have passed over the three preceding steps. (The direct method of creation is the procedure from vacuity to air, and thence to heat, water and earth; or the meditation of the creative power under the three hypostasis or substantiality of Hiranyagarbha, Brahmá and Prakriti; and the reversed order is the annihilation of these in the quiet state of the unpredicable Deity). 25. And in order to that state of blissfulness, you must enter into the supreme spirit by removing from your mind all its impressions (lingas), of matter and sense, mind and understanding and all desires and acts; that lie unexpanded and hidden in it. 26. Bharadwája responded:--I am now quite released from the fetters of my impressions, as my intellectual part has found its entrance into the sea of _turíya_ or transcendent blissfulness. 27. The indistinct nature of my soul from the supreme spirit, makes me identic to it; and I find myself to be devoid of all attributes, and only an intellectual power like the same (the human soul being as intelligent a principle as the divine). 28. As the vacuity contained in the hollow of a pot, becomes one with the universal and all pervading vacuum after the pitcher is broken; so the human soul vanishes into the supreme spirit, after it flies from the confines of the body after its destruction. 29. As a fire brand being cast into the burning furnace, becomes the one and same fire with it; so the kind mixing with its kind, becomes indistinctly known under common name, one: (Here we have the axiom, the even being added to the even, whole is even). 30. Again as straws swimming in the salt sea, are transformed to the sea salt; so all animal souls and the inanimate even mixing with the divine soul, become animated also. (Here is opposite dogma of unequals being equal; because the greater includes the less under it). 31. As saltpetre being thrown into the sea, looses its name and nature and becomes the sea salt; so everything is swallowed in the universal soul and assimilated to it. 32. As water mixing with water, salt with salt, and butter with butter; lose their distinctions and not their substances; so my self and all other substances mixing with the divine spirit, lose our distinct appellations without losing our substantialities. 33. All bodies being absorbed in the all-knowing and ever blissful intellect of the great creator of all; become equally all pervading and tranquil and everlasting and blessed for ever. 34. So I think myself as that eminently transcendent being, which is without any part or partner, without action or passion, without the organs of sense, and neither loving nor hating any one. 35. I think myself as that sole entity, which is of the form of truth and immutable in its nature and desires, which is devoid of virtue and vice, perfectly pure and the supreme cause of all worlds. 36. I am that blissful Brahma, who is without a second and without decay, and of the form of pure light; who is expressed by these negative properties, and is beyond the three degrees of quality; as the _satva_, _rajas_ and _tamas_--the positive, comparative, and superlative, which do not relate to him as they do to others. 37. Thus should one meditate himself as Brahma, even when he is employed in discharging the duties destined to his station in life: and his continued practice of this kind of meditation, will gradually wear out all other impressions from his mind. 38. The mind being thus set down, the soul will then appear of itself within the man; and the appearance of the inward spirit, serves to destroy all his internal grief, and fill its place with his heart felt joy. 39. He also perceives the height of the truth shining in himself, that there is no other blissful God beside his own intellect; and this is what he calls his ego and the supreme Brahma likewise. 40. Válmíki said:--Friend, give up your observance of religious acts; and be devoted yourself to the meditation of Brahma, if you want to stop the revolution of the wheel of this world upon you. 41. Bharadwája replied:--I have well understood the drift of the knowledge, you have imparted to me; I have acquired clearness of my understanding, and I have no more any reliance in the world. 42. I am now desirous of knowing about the duties of those, who have gained the spiritual knowledge of God; as to whether they are subject to or freed from the performance of meritorious acts (_i.e._ whether their knowledge is sufficient to to save them or requires their acts also). 43. Válmíki said:--The seekers of liberation are not liberated from the doing of those duties, whose avoidance entails the guilt of the omission of duty upon them; but he must refrain from doing the acts of his desire (of fruition), and those which he is prohibited to do. 44. When the living soul comes to feel the spiritual bliss in itself, and to find his sensuous appetites disappear from his mind; as also when he perceives his organs of sense lying quite calm and quiet under him; he may then consider himself as one with the all pervading spirit of the lord (and therefore freed from the bonds of action and all earthly duties). 45. When the sentient soul conceives in itself, the sense of its conversion to the essence of God (as conveyed by the formula _Soham_ He ego, I am He); and beyond the bounds of his body and its senses, and the reach of his mind and understanding; it is then freed from its obligation of worldly duties. 46. When the soul is free from all its action and passions, and remains aloof from all titles and attributes; when it gets rid of the feelings of pain and pleasure, he is then exonerated from the burthen of his duties. 47. When one sees the supreme soul to pervade over all beings, and beholds all creation to exist in the universal spirit; and when he finds no difference between the mundane soul and the supreme spirit, he is then released from the bonds of his action. 48. When the living soul has passed over the three states, of waking, dreaming, and sound sleep; and enters into the fourth or turya state of perfect bliss, he is then freed from the binding of his earthly duties. 49. The fourth state of turíya, which consists in the residence of the living soul, in the lap of the universal soul of God, is the state of the soul's liberation from its condition of sleep or hypnotism, and is full of its spiritual blissfulness. 50. This _turya_ state or the consciousness of one's felicity, derived from the fixedness of the soul in the supreme; is the great end of yoga meditation. 51. After the mental operations of a man have ceased in a man, he perceives nothing within himself except the turya state; which is a calm quiescence of the soul, in the sea of the ambrosial waters of one sole unity. 52. Why are you plunging yourself, under the waves of the briny waters of the sea of duality; fly to the Lord of worlds and adore the great God, who is abundant of all blessings. 53. I have thus related to you my son, all the doctrines of Vasishtha, as the best means to the way of your knowledge and practice of yoga meditation. 54. You will verily be able, O wise Bharadwája, to learn everything from these, by means of your digesting the substance of this sástra, and reconsidering the purport of the precepts of this great preceptor. 55. It is by continued practice, that we attain to the perfection of any thing, according to the dictum of the vedas; therefore must you avoid to attend to all things besides, and concentrate your mind to the object of your practice. 56. Bharadwája rejoined:--Tell me O sage, the course of conduct which Ráma followed, after he had received his knowledge of yoga or uniting his soul with the supreme spirit. 57. By knowing this I will also try to practice upon the same model, that I may succeed to attain to the same state of spiritual elevation and rapture like him. 58. Válmíki said:--When the virtuous and high minded Ráma, was absorbed and sat entranced in the divine essence, it was then that Viswámitra addressed the venerable Vasishta and said. 59. Viswámitra said:--O highly endowed son of Brahmá--wise Vasishtha, you have even now shown the efficacy of your preceptorship, by hypnotising and laying dormant the powers of Ráma. 60. He is verily the best to yoga, who mesmerises the body of his pupil, by his kind look, touch and sound; and causes his inspiration by the infusion of the holy spirit of Siva in him. 61. So it was with Ráma, whose pure soul was dispassionate by its own nature; and whose earnest desire of hebetude led him to that happy state, by means of his conversation with his _guru_ or spiritual guide. 62. It is the intelligence of the student which is the cause of his understanding, by means of the guidance of his spiritual preceptor; but when these three roots or principles are imperfect, how can the understanding arrive to its perfection. 63. It is evident, that knowledge is in need of both the pupil and preceptor for its communication; where both of them are competent and worthy of one another; it is certain that the result will be so likewise (as in Ráma's case). (The commentary adds the good sástras, as the third means of gaining knowledge). 64. Now be pleased to rouse Ráma from his torpor, which you alone can do, by your beatification in the apathy; whilst we being employed in worldly affairs, are too far from it. 65. Please sir, remember the cause that calls us hither, and the business to which we are invited at earnest request of king Dasaratha himself (for the performance of a certain sacrifice). 66. Therefore O sage, do not frustrate that object of ours, by the purity of thy mind; we have a service to perform to the Gods, and which is the cause of Ráma's incarnation on earth. 67. Ráma is to be conducted by me to the abode of the siddhas, and then shall he be called to the destruction of the Rákshasas; after which he will be led to the salvation of Ahalyá and to his marriage with Sitá. 68. He will break the great bow of Siva in a chivalrous feat at that marriage, and then he shall encounter the furious Parusha-Ráma, and restrain his way to heaven. 69. The fearless Ráma will then forsake his uncared for paternal and ancestral realms, and under pretext of his banishment, betake himself to the Dandaka woods of foresters. 70. He will restore the sanctity of many places of pilgrimage, and will thereby save the lives and souls of beings from sin and its wages of death. He will show to the world the sorrows of men at the loss of their wives, from his own example of the loss of accompanying Sitá by Rávana. 71. He will set the lesson of the husband's duty of recovering the wives from the hands of their ravishers, by his recovery of Sitá by slaughter of Rávana, and by his assembling the ape-savages of the forest in his favour. 72. He will prove the purity of Sitá to please his plea, and will be employed in the observance of all religious acts, with his entire liberation in this world, and want of the desire of fruition in the next. 73. But in order to secure the future welfare of men, he will encourage the practice both of spiritual devotion and ritual acts, according to the instruction of those best acquainted with those subjects. 74. He will liberally bestow his liberation to every living being of every kind. These and many others are the duties of Ráma to this world and to myself also. (Viswámitra means a friend to the world, and the good services of Ráma done to it were reckoned by the sage as done to the sage himself). 75. Such are the acts that are to be performed by Ráma, wherefore he is to be thanked by every one here for all his conquests which no one else can make. So fare you well. 76. Válmíki resumed:--After these words of the sage, were listened to by the princes in the court and by the assembled siddhas and great yogis as Vasishtha and others; they thanked the hero, and remained to think of his lotus-like feet with respect and esteem. 77. But the sages Vasishtha and others, were not to be satisfied until they could hear further about the lord of Sitá; whose virtues they all eagerly expected to hear those fully and recite in their carols. 78. Vasishtha then said to Viswámitra:--Tell me sir, who was this lotus-eyed Ráma in his past life, whether he had been a god or sage or an ordinary man. 79. Viswámitra replied:--Believe what I say, that this Ráma is that primary Male, who had churned the sea for the good of the world, and is known only by the deepest learning of the vedas. 80. He is full of spiritual joy, meek and gentle, and has the mark of the auspicious calf (lamb) upon his person; he is bountiful to all living beings, and is soon appeased by all (that rely in him). 81. He destroys every one in his rage, and abandons all the frail trifles of this world; he is the first male and creator of all, and is the supporter and nourisher and kind friend of all. 82. He has passed over the unsubstantial and illusory things of this world; he is the sea of felicity, and is dived in by the dispassionate. 83. He is some times known as a liberated soul, and relying in himself; at others he is seen to be settled in his _turya_ state of hypnotism, and sometimes as a male or female agent of creation. 84. He is the God of the triple veda, and beyond the reach of the three qualities of things; he is the soul of the veda and the wondrous male (Virát), that is displayed in the six branches of veda. 85. He is the four armed and four-faced Brahmá--the creator of the world, he is also the great Mahádeva with his three eyes, who is the destroyer of the world. 86. He is the uncreated creator, that is born by his yoga or union with the power of delusion (máyá). He is the ever wakeful and the ever great spirit of God, which though it is formless doth yet form and support this frame of this universe, by transforming himself to the form of a man-lion. 87. As victory is borne upon the wings of valour, and as light is borne upon the flame of fire; and as learning bears and conveys the fruit of good understanding, so is this god-like Ráma borne upon the wings of the bird of heaven (_i.e._ as Garuda bears Vishnu upon his back). 88. Blessed in this king Dasaratha, who has the supreme prime male for his son, and fortunate is the ten headed Rávana, for his finding a place in the mind of Ráma (as his enemy). (The enemies of the gods are not less fortunate than the godly; because their fall under the blessed hands of gods, secures to them the blissful seats of heaven and not of hell). 89. Oh! how lamentable is the state of heaven by the absence of Ráma from it; and how pitiable is the infernal region from its loss of Lakshmana who is present here. Happy is this midland of Oudh at present, from the presence of the two gods from those two regions in this place. 90. This Ráma is an incarnation of the god Vishnu, who sleeps in the midst of the sea; he is the incarnate and undecaying supreme soul, and is a consolidation of the divine intellect and felicity in his person. 91. The yogis of subdued organs discern Ráma in spirit, but we of ordinary understanding can see him only in his outward figure. 92. We hear that he has come down to blot out the iniquities of the race of Raghu, and hope that the venerable Vasishtha will kindly guide him to the affairs of the world. 93. Válmíki said:--Saying so far, the great sage Viswámitra held his silence, when the vehement Vasishtha oped his mouth and addressed Ráma saying:-- 94. Vasishtha said:--O great armed Ráma! O highly intellectual prince! it is not the time for you thus to slumber in yoga, rise and rejoice the hearts of your people. 95. Until you satisfy the wants of men and their expectations of you, you are not filled to attain the acme of your pure _samádhi_ meditation. 96. Therefore attend to the temporal affairs of your state for some time, and discharge the onus of your duties to the gods; and then betake yourself to the state of your entrancement, and be happy forever. 97. Notwithstanding Ráma was addressed in this manner, yet as he remained transfixed in his trance and uttered not a word in reply; then the spirit of Vasishtha entered into the heart of Ráma, through dormitory passage of _susumná_. 98. It infused its force to the respiratory beings, mental faculties, organs and to the vital spirit of Ráma, it ran through the veins and arteries and inflated the organs of sense; then Ráma slowly oped his eyelids, and saw before him the sage Vasishtha with the learned men about him. He remained gazing upon all without any wish or effort of his own; and without considering aught of his duties, or what he was to avoid. 99. He heard the voice, which his preceptor Vasishtha had uttered to him; and in reply respectfully answered him saying:-- 100. Ráma said:--By your kindness sir, I am taught to have no concern with aught of the injunctions or prohibitions of the law; yet it is my duty to abide by all, what my preceptor bids me to do. 101. I ween, O great sage! that of all the sayings of the vedas, Ágamas, Puránas, and smritis, it is the word of the preceptor, is the highest law, his bidding is commandment and its opposite a positive prohibition. 102. So saying, the virtuous Ráma bowed down his head at the feet of the venerable Vasishtha, and then bespoke of his indifference to the world, to all present in the assembly. 103. Ráma said:--May ye all prosper, and know the most certain truth to which I have arrived; that there is nothing better than the knowledge of the self, and none superior to the preceptor from whom it is derived. 104. The siddhas and others responded saying:--Such is the impression of Ráma, in our minds also; and it is by your favour and conversions also, that this belief is ratified in us. 105. We thank you, Ráma Chandra, and wish all happiness to attend on our great prince; and beg leave of the sage Vasishtha for our departure as we are called here (to attend to his lecture). 106. Válmíki said:--so saying they rose with giving praises to Ráma, and blessing him with showers of flowers falling upon his head from their hands. 107. Thus have I related to you the whole narrative of Ráma, do you now, O Bharadwája, follow the same course of yoga, and be happy forever. 108. Now this relation of mine of the consummation to which Ráma had arrived, together with my rehearsal of the varied sayings of the sage which are as so many strings of gems to be worn on the breasts of yogis and poets, will serve by the grace of the sage, to give you liberation (from the troubles of the world). 109. Whoever hears and attends to these discourses of Ráma and Vasishtha, is sure to be relieved in every state of life; to be united with Brahma after his release. 110. End of the Mahá Rámáyana of the sage Vasishtha and spoken by Válmíki, relating the boyhood of Ráma and consisting of thirty-two thousand sloka stanzas. * * * * * END OF THE THIRD VOLUME. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical errors. The somewhat erratic use of brackets has been corrected where possible. Words in italics are represented thus; _italic_ while words in bold are represented thus; =bold=. Chapter LXII has been wrongly headed as LXI in the original text. The heading and sub-heading have been corrected. Decent has been changed to descent in para 14, chapter XIV. In chapter XXXIX, para 8, "the eight forms of as we see" has been changed to "the eight forms of [God] as we see" In chapter LI para 12, "remain still and motionless; if they were buried" has been changed to "remain still and motionless; [as] if they were buried" In chapter LIII, para 43,"one who sees every in one and same light" has been changed to "one who sees every[one] in one and [the] same light" In chapter LXI, para 15. "In whatever manner we look object," has been changed to "In whatever manner we look [at the] object," Two paragraphs of text duplicated in the table of contents have been removed. The sanskrit is frequently unclear, and in some places illegible (represented by ?). 
7864	----	Franks, John B. Hare and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned at sacred-texts.com, 2003. Redaction at Distributed Proofing, Juliet Sutherland, Project Manager. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare. This text is in the public domain. These files may be used for any non-commercial purpose, provided this notice of attribution is left intact. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE The object of a translator should ever be to hold the mirror up to his author. That being so, his chief duty is to represent so far as practicable the manner in which his author's ideas have been expressed, retaining if possible at the sacrifice of idiom and taste all the peculiarities of his author's imagery and of language as well. In regard to translations from the Sanskrit, nothing is easier than to dish up Hindu ideas, so as to make them agreeable to English taste. But the endeavour of the present translator has been to give in the following pages as literal a rendering as possible of the great work of Vyasa. To the purely English reader there is much in the following pages that will strike as ridiculous. Those unacquainted with any language but their own are generally very exclusive in matters of taste. Having no knowledge of models other than what they meet with in their own tongue, the standard they have formed of purity and taste in composition must necessarily be a narrow one. The translator, however, would ill-discharge his duty, if for the sake of avoiding ridicule, he sacrificed fidelity to the original. He must represent his author as he is, not as he should be to please the narrow taste of those entirely unacquainted with him. Mr. Pickford, in the preface to his English translation of the Mahavira Charita, ably defends a close adherence to the original even at the sacrifice of idiom and taste against the claims of what has been called 'Free Translation,' which means dressing the author in an outlandish garb to please those to whom he is introduced. In the preface to his classical translation of Bhartrihari's Niti Satakam and Vairagya Satakam, Mr. C.H. Tawney says, "I am sensible that in the present attempt I have retained much local colouring. For instance, the ideas of worshipping the feet of a god or great men, though it frequently occurs in Indian literature, will undoubtedly move the laughter of Englishmen unacquainted with Sanskrit, especially if they happen to belong to that class of readers who revel their attention on the accidental and remain blind to the essential. But a certain measure of fidelity to the original even at the risk of making oneself ridiculous, is better than the studied dishonesty which characterises so many translations of oriental poets." We fully subscribe to the above although, it must be observed, the censure conveyed to the class of translators last indicated is rather undeserved, there being nothing like a 'studied dishonesty' in their efforts which proceed only from a mistaken view of their duties and as such betray only an error of the head but not of the heart. More than twelve years ago when Babu Pratapa Chandra Roy, with Babu Durga Charan Banerjee, went to my retreat at Seebpore, for engaging me to translate the Mahabharata into English, I was amazed with the grandeur of the scheme. My first question to him was,--whence was the money to come, supposing my competence for the task. Pratapa then unfolded to me the details of his plan, the hopes he could legitimately cherish of assistance from different quarters. He was full of enthusiasm. He showed me Dr. Rost's letter, which, he said, had suggested to him the undertaking. I had known Babu Durga Charan for many years and I had the highest opinion of his scholarship and practical good sense. When he warmly took Pratapa's side for convincing me of the practicability of the scheme, I listened to him patiently. The two were for completing all arrangements with me the very day. To this I did not agree. I took a week's time to consider. I consulted some of my literary friends, foremost among whom was the late lamented Dr. Sambhu C. Mookherjee. The latter, I found, had been waited upon by Pratapa. Dr. Mookherjee spoke to me of Pratapa as a man of indomitable energy and perseverance. The result of my conference with Dr. Mookherjee was that I wrote to Pratapa asking him to see me again. In this second interview estimates were drawn up, and everything was arranged as far as my portion of the work was concerned. My friend left with me a specimen of translation which he had received from Professor Max Muller. This I began to study, carefully comparing it sentence by sentence with the original. About its literal character there could be no doubt, but it had no flow and, therefore, could not be perused with pleasure by the general reader. The translation had been executed thirty years ago by a young German friend of the great Pundit. I had to touch up every sentence. This I did without at all impairing faithfulness to the original. My first 'copy' was set up in type and a dozen sheets were struck off. These were submitted to the judgment of a number of eminent writers, European and native. All of them, I was glad to see, approved of the specimen, and then the task of translating the Mahabharata into English seriously began. Before, however, the first fasciculus could be issued, the question as to whether the authorship of the translation should be publicly owned, arose. Babu Pratapa Chandra Roy was against anonymity. I was for it. The reasons I adduced were chiefly founded upon the impossibility of one person translating the whole of the gigantic work. Notwithstanding my resolve to discharge to the fullest extent the duty that I took up, I might not live to carry it out. It would take many years before the end could be reached. Other circumstances than death might arise in consequence of which my connection with the work might cease. It could not be desirable to issue successive fasciculus with the names of a succession of translators appearing on the title pages. These and other considerations convinced my friend that, after all, my view was correct. It was, accordingly, resolved to withhold the name of the translator. As a compromise, however, between the two views, it was resolved to issue the first fasciculus with two prefaces, one over the signature of the publisher and the other headed-- 'Translator's Preface.' This, it was supposed, would effectually guard against misconceptions of every kind. No careful reader would then confound the publisher with the author. Although this plan was adopted, yet before a fourth of the task had been accomplished, an influential Indian journal came down upon poor Pratapa Chandra Roy and accused him openly of being a party to a great literary imposture, viz., of posing before the world as the translator of Vyasa's work when, in fact, he was only the publisher. The charge came upon my friend as a surprise, especially as he had never made a secret of the authorship in his correspondence with Oriental scholars in every part of the world. He promptly wrote to the journal in question, explaining the reasons there were for anonymity, and pointing to the two prefaces with which the first fasciculus had been given to the world. The editor readily admitted his mistake and made a satisfactory apology. Now that the translation has been completed, there can no longer be any reason for withholding the name of the translator. The entire translation is practically the work of one hand. In portions of the Adi and the Sabha Parvas, I was assisted by Babu Charu Charan Mookerjee. About four forms of the Sabha Parva were done by Professor Krishna Kamal Bhattacharya, and about half a fasciculus during my illness, was done by another hand. I should however state that before passing to the printer the copy received from these gentlemen I carefully compared every sentence with the original, making such alterations as were needed for securing a uniformity of style with the rest of the work. I should here observe that in rendering the Mahabharata into English I have derived very little aid from the three Bengali versions that are supposed to have been executed with care. Every one of these is full of inaccuracies and blunders of every description. The Santi in particular which is by far the most difficult of the eighteen Parvas, has been made a mess of by the Pundits that attacked it. Hundreds of ridiculous blunders can be pointed out in both the Rajadharma and the Mokshadharma sections. Some of these I have pointed out in footnotes. I cannot lay claim to infallibility. There are verses in the Mahabharata that are exceedingly difficult to construe. I have derived much aid from the great commentator Nilakantha. I know that Nilakantha's authority is not incapable of being challenged. But when it is remembered that the interpretations given by Nilakantha came down to him from preceptors of olden days, one should think twice before rejecting Nilakantha as a guide. About the readings I have adopted, I should say that as regards the first half of the work, I have generally adhered to the Bengal texts; as regards the latter half, to the printed Bombay edition. Sometimes individual sections, as occurring in the Bengal editions, differ widely, in respect of the order of the verses, from the corresponding ones in the Bombay edition. In such cases I have adhered to the Bengal texts, convinced that the sequence of ideas has been better preserved in the Bengal editions than the Bombay one. I should express my particular obligations to Pundit Ram Nath Tarkaratna, the author of 'Vasudeva Vijayam' and other poems, Pundit Shyama Charan Kaviratna, the learned editor of Kavyaprakasha with the commentary of Professor Mahesh Chandra Nayaratna, and Babu Aghore Nath Banerjee, the manager of the Bharata Karyalaya. All these scholars were my referees on all points of difficulty. Pundit Ram Nath's solid scholarship is known to them that have come in contact with him. I never referred to him a difficulty that he could not clear up. Unfortunately, he was not always at hand to consult. Pundit Shyama Charan Kaviratna, during my residence at Seebpore, assisted me in going over the Mokshadharma sections of the Santi Parva. Unostentatious in the extreme, Kaviratna is truly the type of a learned Brahman of ancient India. Babu Aghore Nath Banerjee also has from time to time, rendered me valuable assistance in clearing my difficulties. Gigantic as the work is, it would have been exceedingly difficult for me to go on with it if I had not been encouraged by Sir Stuart Bayley, Sir Auckland Colvin, Sir Alfred Croft, and among Oriental scholars, by the late lamented Dr. Reinhold Rost, and Mons. A. Barth of Paris. All these eminent men knew from the beginning that the translation was proceeding from my pen. Notwithstanding the enthusiasm, with which my poor friend, Pratapa Chandra Roy, always endeavoured to fill me. I am sure my energies would have flagged and patience exhausted but for the encouraging words which I always received from these patrons and friends of the enterprise. Lastly, I should name my literary chief and friend, Dr. Sambhu C. Mookherjee. The kind interest he took in my labours, the repeated exhortations he addressed to me inculcating patience, the care with which he read every fasciculus as it came out, marking all those passages which threw light upon topics of antiquarian interest, and the words of praise he uttered when any expression particularly happy met his eyes, served to stimulate me more than anything else in going on with a task that sometimes seemed to me endless. Kisari Mohan Ganguli Calcutta THE MAHABHARATA ADI PARVA SECTION I Om! Having bowed down to Narayana and Nara, the most exalted male being, and also to the goddess Saraswati, must the word Jaya be uttered. Ugrasrava, the son of Lomaharshana, surnamed Sauti, well-versed in the Puranas, bending with humility, one day approached the great sages of rigid vows, sitting at their ease, who had attended the twelve years' sacrifice of Saunaka, surnamed Kulapati, in the forest of Naimisha. Those ascetics, wishing to hear his wonderful narrations, presently began to address him who had thus arrived at that recluse abode of the inhabitants of the forest of Naimisha. Having been entertained with due respect by those holy men, he saluted those Munis (sages) with joined palms, even all of them, and inquired about the progress of their asceticism. Then all the ascetics being again seated, the son of Lomaharshana humbly occupied the seat that was assigned to him. Seeing that he was comfortably seated, and recovered from fatigue, one of the Rishis beginning the conversation, asked him, "Whence comest thou, O lotus-eyed Sauti, and where hast thou spent the time? Tell me, who ask thee, in detail." Accomplished in speech, Sauti, thus questioned, gave in the midst of that big assemblage of contemplative Munis a full and proper answer in words consonant with their mode of life. Sauti said, "Having heard the diverse sacred and wonderful stories which were composed in his Mahabharata by Krishna-Dwaipayana, and which were recited in full by Vaisampayana at the Snake-sacrifice of the high-souled royal sage Janamejaya and in the presence also of that chief of Princes, the son of Parikshit, and having wandered about, visiting many sacred waters and holy shrines, I journeyed to the country venerated by the Dwijas (twice-born) and called Samantapanchaka where formerly was fought the battle between the children of Kuru and Pandu, and all the chiefs of the land ranged on either side. Thence, anxious to see you, I am come into your presence. Ye reverend sages, all of whom are to me as Brahma; ye greatly blessed who shine in this place of sacrifice with the splendour of the solar fire: ye who have concluded the silent meditations and have fed the holy fire; and yet who are sitting--without care, what, O ye Dwijas (twice-born), shall I repeat, shall I recount the sacred stories collected in the Puranas containing precepts of religious duty and of worldly profit, or the acts of illustrious saints and sovereigns of mankind?" The Rishi replied, "The Purana, first promulgated by the great Rishi Dwaipayana, and which after having been heard both by the gods and the Brahmarshis was highly esteemed, being the most eminent narrative that exists, diversified both in diction and division, possessing subtile meanings logically combined, and gleaned from the Vedas, is a sacred work. Composed in elegant language, it includeth the subjects of other books. It is elucidated by other Shastras, and comprehendeth the sense of the four Vedas. We are desirous of hearing that history also called Bharata, the holy composition of the wonderful Vyasa, which dispelleth the fear of evil, just as it was cheerfully recited by the Rishi Vaisampayana, under the direction of Dwaipayana himself, at the snake-sacrifice of Raja Janamejaya." Sauti then said, "Having bowed down to the primordial being Isana, to whom multitudes make offerings, and who is adored by the multitude; who is the true incorruptible one, Brahma, perceptible, imperceptible, eternal; who is both a non-existing and an existing-non-existing being; who is the universe and also distinct from the existing and non-existing universe; who is the creator of high and low; the ancient, exalted, inexhaustible one; who is Vishnu, beneficent and the beneficence itself, worthy of all preference, pure and immaculate; who is Hari, the ruler of the faculties, the guide of all things moveable and immoveable; I will declare the sacred thoughts of the illustrious sage Vyasa, of marvellous deeds and worshipped here by all. Some bards have already published this history, some are now teaching it, and others, in like manner, will hereafter promulgate it upon the earth. It is a great source of knowledge, established throughout the three regions of the world. It is possessed by the twice-born both in detailed and compendious forms. It is the delight of the learned for being embellished with elegant expressions, conversations human and divine, and a variety of poetical measures. "In this world, when it was destitute of brightness and light, and enveloped all around in total darkness, there came into being, as the primal cause of creation, a mighty egg, the one inexhaustible seed of all created beings. It is called Mahadivya, and was formed at the beginning of the Yuga, in which we are told, was the true light Brahma, the eternal one, the wonderful and inconceivable being present alike in all places; the invisible and subtile cause, whose nature partaketh of entity and non- entity. From this egg came out the lord Pitamaha Brahma, the one only Prajapati; with Suraguru and Sthanu. Then appeared the twenty-one Prajapatis, viz., Manu, Vasishtha and Parameshthi; ten Prachetas, Daksha, and the seven sons of Daksha. Then appeared the man of inconceivable nature whom all the Rishis know and so the Viswe-devas, the Adityas, the Vasus, and the twin Aswins; the Yakshas, the Sadhyas, the Pisachas, the Guhyakas, and the Pitris. After these were produced the wise and most holy Brahmarshis, and the numerous Rajarshis distinguished by every noble quality. So the water, the heavens, the earth, the air, the sky, the points of the heavens, the years, the seasons, the months, the fortnights, called Pakshas, with day and night in due succession. And thus were produced all things which are known to mankind. "And what is seen in the universe, whether animate or inanimate, of created things, will at the end of the world, and after the expiration of the Yuga, be again confounded. And, at the commencement of other Yugas, all things will be renovated, and, like the various fruits of the earth, succeed each other in the due order of their seasons. Thus continueth perpetually to revolve in the world, without beginning and without end, this wheel which causeth the destruction of all things. "The generation of Devas, in brief, was thirty-three thousand, thirty-three hundred and thirty-three. The sons of Div were Brihadbhanu, Chakshus, Atma, Vibhavasu, Savita, Richika, Arka, Bhanu, Asavaha, and Ravi. Of these Vivaswans of old, Mahya was the youngest whose son was Deva-vrata. The latter had for his son, Su-vrata who, we learn, had three sons,--Dasa- jyoti, Sata-jyoti, and Sahasra-jyoti, each of them producing numerous offspring. The illustrious Dasa-jyoti had ten thousand, Sata-jyoti ten times that number, and Sahasra-jyoti ten times the number of Sata-jyoti's offspring. From these are descended the family of the Kurus, of the Yadus, and of Bharata; the family of Yayati and of Ikshwaku; also of all the Rajarshis. Numerous also were the generations produced, and very abundant were the creatures and their places of abode. The mystery which is threefold--the Vedas, Yoga, and Vijnana Dharma, Artha, and Kama--also various books upon the subject of Dharma, Artha, and Kama; also rules for the conduct of mankind; also histories and discourses with various srutis; all of which having been seen by the Rishi Vyasa are here in due order mentioned as a specimen of the book. "The Rishi Vyasa published this mass of knowledge in both a detailed and an abridged form. It is the wish of the learned in the world to possess the details and the abridgement. Some read the Bharata beginning with the initial mantra (invocation), others with the story of Astika, others with Uparichara, while some Brahmanas study the whole. Men of learning display their various knowledge of the institutes in commenting on the composition. Some are skilful in explaining it, while others, in remembering its contents. "The son of Satyavati having, by penance and meditation, analysed the eternal Veda, afterwards composed this holy history, when that learned Brahmarshi of strict vows, the noble Dwaipayana Vyasa, offspring of Parasara, had finished this greatest of narrations, he began to consider how he might teach it to his disciples. And the possessor of the six attributes, Brahma, the world's preceptor, knowing of the anxiety of the Rishi Dwaipayana, came in person to the place where the latter was, for gratifying the saint, and benefiting the people. And when Vyasa, surrounded by all the tribes of Munis, saw him, he was surprised; and, standing with joined palms, he bowed and ordered a seat to be brought. And Vyasa having gone round him who is called Hiranyagarbha seated on that distinguished seat stood near it; and being commanded by Brahma Parameshthi, he sat down near the seat, full of affection and smiling in joy. Then the greatly glorious Vyasa, addressing Brahma Parameshthi, said, 'O divine Brahma, by me a poem hath been composed which is greatly respected. The mystery of the Veda, and what other subjects have been explained by me; the various rituals of the Upanishads with the Angas; the compilation of the Puranas and history formed by me and named after the three divisions of time, past, present, and future; the determination of the nature of decay, fear, disease, existence, and non-existence, a description of creeds and of the various modes of life; rule for the four castes, and the import of all the Puranas; an account of asceticism and of the duties of a religious student; the dimensions of the sun and moon, the planets, constellations, and stars, together with the duration of the four ages; the Rik, Sama and Yajur Vedas; also the Adhyatma; the sciences called Nyaya, Orthoephy and Treatment of diseases; charity and Pasupatadharma; birth celestial and human, for particular purposes; also a description of places of pilgrimage and other holy places of rivers, mountains, forests, the ocean, of heavenly cities and the kalpas; the art of war; the different kinds of nations and languages: the nature of the manners of the people; and the all-pervading spirit;--all these have been represented. But, after all, no writer of this work is to be found on earth.' "Brahma said, 'I esteem thee for thy knowledge of divine mysteries, before the whole body of celebrated Munis distinguished for the sanctity of their lives. I know thou hast revealed the divine word, even from its first utterance, in the language of truth. Thou hast called thy present work a poem, wherefore it shall be a poem. There shall be no poets whose works may equal the descriptions of this poem, even, as the three other modes called Asrama are ever unequal in merit to the domestic Asrama. Let Ganesa be thought of, O Muni, for the purpose of writing the poem.'" Sauti said, "Brahma having thus spoken to Vyasa, retired to his own abode. Then Vyasa began to call to mind Ganesa. And Ganesa, obviator of obstacles, ready to fulfil the desires of his votaries, was no sooner thought of, than he repaired to the place where Vyasa was seated. And when he had been saluted, and was seated, Vyasa addressed him thus, 'O guide of the Ganas! be thou the writer of the Bharata which I have formed in my imagination, and which I am about to repeat.' "Ganesa, upon hearing this address, thus answered, 'I will become the writer of thy work, provided my pen do not for a moment cease writing.' And Vyasa said unto that divinity, 'Wherever there be anything thou dost not comprehend, cease to continue writing.' Ganesa having signified his assent, by repeating the word Om! proceeded to write; and Vyasa began; and by way of diversion, he knit the knots of composition exceeding close; by doing which, he dictated this work according to his engagement. "I am" (continued Sauti) "acquainted with eight thousand and eight hundred verses, and so is Suka, and perhaps Sanjaya. From the mysteriousness of their meaning, O Muni, no one is able, to this day, to penetrate those closely knit difficult slokas. Even the omniscient Ganesa took a moment to consider; while Vyasa, however, continued to compose other verses in great abundance. "The wisdom of this work, like unto an instrument of applying collyrium, hath opened the eyes of the inquisitive world blinded by the darkness of ignorance. As the sun dispelleth the darkness, so doth the Bharata by its discourses on religion, profit, pleasure and final release, dispel the ignorance of men. As the full-moon by its mild light expandeth the buds of the water-lily, so this Purana, by exposing the light of the Sruti hath expanded the human intellect. By the lamp of history, which destroyeth the darkness of ignorance, the whole mansion of nature is properly and completely illuminated. "This work is a tree, of which the chapter of contents is the seed; the divisions called Pauloma and Astika are the root; the part called Sambhava is the trunk; the books called Sabha and Aranya are the roosting perches; the books called Arani is the knitting knots; the books called Virata and Udyoga the pith; the book named Bhishma, the main branch; the book called Drona, the leaves; the book called Karna, the fair flowers; the book named Salya, their sweet smell; the books entitled Stri and Aishika, the refreshing shade; the book called Santi, the mighty fruit; the book called Aswamedha, the immortal sap; the book denominated Asramavasika, the spot where it groweth; and the book called Mausala, is an epitome of the Vedas and held in great respect by the virtuous Brahmanas. The tree of the Bharata, inexhaustible to mankind as the clouds, shall be as a source of livelihood to all distinguished poets." Sauti continued, "I will now speak of the undying flowery and fruitful productions of this tree, possessed of pure and pleasant taste, and not to be destroyed even by the immortals. Formerly, the spirited and virtuous Krishna-Dwaipayana, by the injunctions of Bhishma, the wise son of Ganga and of his own mother, became the father of three boys who were like the three fires by the two wives of Vichitra-virya; and having thus raised up Dhritarashtra, Pandu and Vidura, he returned to his recluse abode to prosecute his religious exercise. "It was not till after these were born, grown up, and departed on the supreme journey, that the great Rishi Vyasa published the Bharata in this region of mankind; when being solicited by Janamejaya and thousands of Brahmanas, he instructed his disciple Vaisampayana, who was seated near him; and he, sitting together with the Sadasyas, recited the Bharata, during the intervals of the ceremonies of the sacrifice, being repeatedly urged to proceed. "Vyasa hath fully represented the greatness of the house of Kuru, the virtuous principles of Gandhari, the wisdom of Vidura, and the constancy of Kunti. The noble Rishi hath also described the divinity of Vasudeva, the rectitude of the sons of Pandu, and the evil practices of the sons and partisans of Dhritarashtra. "Vyasa executed the compilation of the Bharata, exclusive of the episodes originally in twenty-four thousand verses; and so much only is called by the learned as the Bharata. Afterwards, he composed an epitome in one hundred and fifty verses, consisting of the introduction with the chapter of contents. This he first taught to his son Suka; and afterwards he gave it to others of his disciples who were possessed of the same qualifications. After that he executed another compilation, consisting of six hundred thousand verses. Of those, thirty hundred thousand are known in the world of the Devas; fifteen hundred thousand in the world of the Pitris: fourteen hundred thousand among the Gandharvas, and one hundred thousand in the regions of mankind. Narada recited them to the Devas, Devala to the Pitris, and Suka published them to the Gandharvas, Yakshas, and Rakshasas: and in this world they were recited by Vaisampayana, one of the disciples of Vyasa, a man of just principles and the first among all those acquainted with the Vedas. Know that I, Sauti, have also repeated one hundred thousand verses. "Yudhishthira is a vast tree, formed of religion and virtue; Arjuna is its trunk; Bhimasena, its branches; the two sons of Madri are its full-grown fruit and flowers; and its roots are Krishna, Brahma, and the Brahmanas. "Pandu, after having subdued many countries by his wisdom and prowess, took up his abode with the Munis in a certain forest as a sportsman, where he brought upon himself a very severe misfortune for having killed a stag coupling with its mate, which served as a warning for the conduct of the princes of his house as long as they lived. Their mothers, in order that the ordinances of the law might be fulfilled, admitted as substitutes to their embraces the gods Dharma, Vayu, Sakra, and the divinities the twin Aswins. And when their offspring grew up, under the care of their two mothers, in the society of ascetics, in the midst of sacred groves and holy recluse-abodes of religious men, they were conducted by Rishis into the presence of Dhritarashtra and his sons, following as students in the habit of Brahmacharis, having their hair tied in knots on their heads. 'These our pupils', said they, 'are as your sons, your brothers, and your friends; they are Pandavas.' Saying this, the Munis disappeared. "When the Kauravas saw them introduced as the sons of Pandu, the distinguished class of citizens shouted exceedingly for joy. Some, however, said, they were not the sons of Pandu; others said, they were; while a few asked how they could be his offspring, seeing he had been so long dead. Still on all sides voices were heard crying, 'They are on all accounts welcome! Through divine Providence we behold the family of Pandu! Let their welcome be proclaimed!' As these acclamations ceased, the plaudits of invisible spirits, causing every point of the heavens to resound, were tremendous. There were showers of sweet-scented flowers, and the sound of shells and kettle-drums. Such were the wonders that happened on the arrival of the young princes. The joyful noise of all the citizens, in expression of their satisfaction on the occasion, was so great that it reached the very heavens in magnifying plaudits. "Having studied the whole of the Vedas and sundry other shastras, the Pandavas resided there, respected by all and without apprehension from any one. "The principal men were pleased with the purity of Yudhishthira, the courage of Arjuna, the submissive attention of Kunti to her superiors, and the humility of the twins, Nakula and Sahadeva; and all the people rejoiced in their heroic virtues. "After a while, Arjuna obtained the virgin Krishna at the swayamvara, in the midst of a concourse of Rajas, by performing a very difficult feat of archery. And from this time he became very much respected in this world among all bowmen; and in fields of battle also, like the sun, he was hard to behold by foe-men. And having vanquished all the neighbouring princes and every considerable tribe, he accomplished all that was necessary for the Raja (his eldest brother) to perform the great sacrifice called Rajasuya. "Yudhishthira, after having, through the wise counsels of Vasudeva and by the valour of Bhimasena and Arjuna, slain Jarasandha (the king of Magadha) and the proud Chaidya, acquired the right to perform the grand sacrifice of Rajasuya abounding in provisions and offering and fraught with transcendent merits. And Duryodhana came to this sacrifice; and when he beheld the vast wealth of the Pandavas scattered all around, the offerings, the precious stones, gold and jewels; the wealth in cows, elephants, and horses; the curious textures, garments, and mantles; the precious shawls and furs and carpets made of the skin of the Ranku; he was filled with envy and became exceedingly displeased. And when he beheld the hall of assembly elegantly constructed by Maya (the Asura architect) after the fashion of a celestial court, he was inflamed with rage. And having started in confusion at certain architectural deceptions within this building, he was derided by Bhimasena in the presence of Vasudeva, like one of mean descent. "And it was represented to Dhritarashtra that his son, while partaking of various objects of enjoyment and diverse precious things, was becoming meagre, wan, and pale. And Dhritarashtra, some time after, out of affection for his son, gave his consent to their playing (with the Pandavas) at dice. And Vasudeva coming to know of this, became exceedingly wroth. And being dissatisfied, he did nothing to prevent the disputes, but overlooked the gaming and sundry other horried unjustifiable transactions arising therefrom: and in spite of Vidura, Bhishma, Drona, and Kripa, the son of Saradwan, he made the Kshatriyas kill each other in the terrific war that ensued. "And Dhritarashtra hearing the ill news of the success of the Pandavas and recollecting the resolutions of Duryodhana, Karna, and Sakuni, pondered for a while and addressed to Sanjaya the following speech:-- "'Attend, O Sanjaya, to all I am about to say, and it will not become thee to treat me with contempt. Thou art well-versed in the shastras, intelligent and endowed with wisdom. My inclination was never to war, not did I delight in the destruction of my race. I made no distinction between my own children and the children of Pandu. My own sons were prone to wilfulness and despised me because I am old. Blind as I am, because of my miserable plight and through paternal affection, I bore it all. I was foolish after the thoughtless Duryodhana ever growing in folly. Having been a spectator of the riches of the mighty sons of Pandu, my son was derided for his awkwardness while ascending the hall. Unable to bear it all and unable himself to overcome the sons of Pandu in the field, and though a soldier, unwilling yet to obtain good fortune by his own exertion, with the help of the king of Gandhara he concerted an unfair game at dice. "'Hear, O Sanjaya, all that happened thereupon and came to my knowledge. And when thou hast heard all I say, recollecting everything as it fell out, thou shall then know me for one with a prophetic eye. When I heard that Arjuna, having bent the bow, had pierced the curious mark and brought it down to the ground, and bore away in triumph the maiden Krishna, in the sight of the assembled princes, then, O Sanjaya I had no hope of success. When I heard that Subhadra of the race of Madhu had, after forcible seizure been married by Arjuna in the city of Dwaraka, and that the two heroes of the race of Vrishni (Krishna and Balarama the brothers of Subhadra) without resenting it had entered Indraprastha as friends, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Arjuna, by his celestial arrow preventing the downpour by Indra the king of the gods, had gratified Agni by making over to him the forest of Khandava, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the five Pandavas with their mother Kunti had escaped from the house of lac, and that Vidura was engaged in the accomplishment of their designs, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Arjuna, after having pierced the mark in the arena had won Draupadi, and that the brave Panchalas had joined the Pandavas, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Jarasandha, the foremost of the royal line of Magadha, and blazing in the midst of the Kshatriyas, had been slain by Bhima with his bare arms alone, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that in their general campaign the sons of Pandu had conquered the chiefs of the land and performed the grand sacrifice of the Rajasuya, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Draupadi, her voice choked with tears and heart full of agony, in the season of impurity and with but one raiment on, had been dragged into court and though she had protectors, she had been treated as if she had none, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the wicked wretch Duhsasana, was striving to strip her of that single garment, had only drawn from her person a large heap of cloth without being able to arrive at its end, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Yudhishthira, beaten by Saubala at the game of dice and deprived of his kingdom as a consequence thereof, had still been attended upon by his brothers of incomparable prowess, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the virtuous Pandavas weeping with affliction had followed their elder brother to the wilderness and exerted themselves variously for the mitigation of his discomforts, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. "'When I heard that Yudhishthira had been followed into the wilderness by Snatakas and noble-minded Brahmanas who live upon alms, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Arjuna, having, in combat, pleased the god of gods, Tryambaka (the three-eyed) in the disguise of a hunter, obtained the great weapon Pasupata, then O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the just and renowned Arjuna after having been to the celestial regions, had there obtained celestial weapons from Indra himself then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that afterwards Arjuna had vanquished the Kalakeyas and the Paulomas proud with the boon they had obtained and which had rendered them invulnerable even to the celestials, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Arjuna, the chastiser of enemies, having gone to the regions of Indra for the destruction of the Asuras, had returned thence successful, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Bhima and the other sons of Pritha (Kunti) accompanied by Vaisravana had arrived at that country which is inaccessible to man then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that my sons, guided by the counsels of Karna, while on their journey of Ghoshayatra, had been taken prisoners by the Gandharvas and were set free by Arjuna, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Dharma (the god of justice) having come under the form of a Yaksha had proposed certain questions to Yudhishthira then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that my sons had failed to discover the Pandavas under their disguise while residing with Draupadi in the dominions of Virata, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the principal men of my side had all been vanquished by the noble Arjuna with a single chariot while residing in the dominions of Virata, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Vasudeva of the race of Madhu, who covered this whole earth by one foot, was heartily interested in the welfare of the Pandavas, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the king of Matsya, had offered his virtuous daughter Uttara to Arjuna and that Arjuna had accepted her for his son, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Yudhishthira, beaten at dice, deprived of wealth, exiled and separated from his connections, had assembled yet an army of seven Akshauhinis, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard Narada, declare that Krishna and Arjuna were Nara and Narayana and he (Narada) had seen them together in the regions of Brahma, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Krishna, anxious to bring about peace, for the welfare of mankind had repaired to the Kurus, and went away without having been able to effect his purpose, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Karna and Duryodhana resolved upon imprisoning Krishna displayed in himself the whole universe, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. Then I heard that at the time of his departure, Pritha (Kunti) standing, full of sorrow, near his chariot received consolation from Krishna, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Vasudeva and Bhishma the son of Santanu were the counsellors of the Pandavas and Drona the son of Bharadwaja pronounced blessings on them, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When Karna said unto Bhishma--I will not fight when thou art fighting--and, quitting the army, went away, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Vasudeva and Arjuna and the bow Gandiva of immeasurable prowess, these three of dreadful energy had come together, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that upon Arjuna having been seized with compunction on his chariot and ready to sink, Krishna showed him all the worlds within his body, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Bhishma, the desolator of foes, killing ten thousand charioteers every day in the field of battle, had not slain any amongst the Pandavas then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Bhishma, the righteous son of Ganga, had himself indicated the means of his defeat in the field of battle and that the same were accomplished by the Pandavas with joyfulness, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Arjuna, having placed Sikhandin before himself in his chariot, had wounded Bhishma of infinite courage and invincible in battle, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the aged hero Bhishma, having reduced the numbers of the race of shomaka to a few, overcome with various wounds was lying on a bed of arrows, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that upon Bhishma's lying on the ground with thirst for water, Arjuna, being requested, had pierced the ground and allayed his thirst, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When Vayu together with Indra and Suryya united as allies for the success of the sons of Kunti, and the beasts of prey (by their inauspicious presence) were putting us in fear, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When the wonderful warrior Drona, displaying various modes of fight in the field, did not slay any of the superior Pandavas, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the Maharatha Sansaptakas of our army appointed for the overthrow of Arjuna were all slain by Arjuna himself, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that our disposition of forces, impenetrable by others, and defended by Bharadwaja himself well-armed, had been singly forced and entered by the brave son of Subhadra, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that our Maharathas, unable to overcome Arjuna, with jubilant faces after having jointly surrounded and slain the boy Abhimanyu, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the blind Kauravas were shouting for joy after having slain Abhimanyu and that thereupon Arjuna in anger made his celebrated speech referring to Saindhava, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Arjuna had vowed the death of Saindhava and fulfilled his vow in the presence of his enemies, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that upon the horses of Arjuna being fatigued, Vasudeva releasing them made them drink water and bringing them back and reharnessing them continued to guide them as before, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that while his horses were fatigued, Arjuna staying in his chariot checked all his assailants, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Yuyudhana of the race of Vrishni, after having thrown into confusion the army of Drona rendered unbearable in prowess owing to the presence of elephants, retired to where Krishna and Arjuna were, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Karna even though he had got Bhima within his power allowed him to escape after only addressing him in contemptuous terms and dragging him with the end of his bow, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Drona, Kritavarma, Kripa, Karna, the son of Drona, and the valiant king of Madra (Salya) suffered Saindhava to be slain, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the celestial Sakti given by Indra (to Karna) was by Madhava's machinations caused to be hurled upon Rakshasa Ghatotkacha of frightful countenance, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that in the encounter between Karna and Ghatotkacha, that Sakti was hurled against Ghatotkacha by Karna, the same which was certainly to have slain Arjuna in battle, then, O Sanjaya. I had no hope of success. When I heard that Dhristadyumna, transgressing the laws of battle, slew Drona while alone in his chariot and resolved on death, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Nakula, the son of Madri, having in the presence of the whole army engaged in single combat with the son of Drona and showing himself equal to him drove his chariot in circles around, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When upon the death of Drona, his son misused the weapon called Narayana but failed to achieve the destruction of the Pandavas, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Bhimasena drank the blood of his brother Duhsasana in the field of battle without anybody being able to prevent him, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the infinitely brave Karna, invincible in battle, was slain by Arjuna in that war of brothers mysterious even to the gods, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Yudhishthira, the Just, overcame the heroic son of Drona, Duhsasana, and the fierce Kritavarman, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the brave king of Madra who ever dared Krishna in battle was slain by Yudhishthira, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the wicked Suvala of magic power, the root of the gaming and the feud, was slain in battle by Sahadeva, the son of Pandu, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Duryodhana, spent with fatigue, having gone to a lake and made a refuge for himself within its waters, was lying there alone, his strength gone and without a chariot, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the Pandavas having gone to that lake accompanied by Vasudeva and standing on its beach began to address contemptuously my son who was incapable of putting up with affronts, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that while, displaying in circles a variety of curious modes (of attack and defence) in an encounter with clubs, he was unfairly slain according to the counsels of Krishna, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard the son of Drona and others by slaying the Panchalas and the sons of Draupadi in their sleep, perpetrated a horrible and infamous deed, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that Aswatthaman while being pursued by Bhimasena had discharged the first of weapons called Aishika, by which the embryo in the womb (of Uttara) was wounded, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that the weapon Brahmashira (discharged by Aswatthaman) was repelled by Arjuna with another weapon over which he had pronounced the word "Sasti" and that Aswatthaman had to give up the jewel-like excrescence on his head, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. When I heard that upon the embryo in the womb of Virata's daughter being wounded by Aswatthaman with a mighty weapon, Dwaipayana and Krishna pronounced curses on him, then, O Sanjaya, I had no hope of success. "'Alas! Gandhari, destitute of children, grand-children, parents, brothers, and kindred, is to be pitied. Difficult is the task that hath been performed by the Pandavas: by them hath a kingdom been recovered without a rival. "'Alas! I have heard that the war hath left only ten alive: three of our side, and the Pandavas, seven, in that dreadful conflict eighteen Akshauhinis of Kshatriyas have been slain! All around me is utter darkness, and a fit of swoon assaileth me: consciousness leaves me, O Suta, and my mind is distracted.'" Sauti said, "Dhritarashtra, bewailing his fate in these words, was overcome with extreme anguish and for a time deprived of sense; but being revived, he addressed Sanjaya in the following words. "'After what hath come to pass, O Sanjaya, I wish to put an end to my life without delay; I do not find the least advantage in cherishing it any longer.'" Sauti said, "The wise son of Gavalgana (Sanjaya) then addressed the distressed lord of Earth while thus talking and bewailing, sighing like a serpent and repeatedly fainting, in words of deep import. "'Thou hast heard, O Raja, of the greatly powerful men of vast exertions, spoken of by Vyasa and the wise Narada; men born of great royal families, resplendent with worthy qualities, versed in the science of celestial arms, and in glory emblems of Indra; men who having conquered the world by justice and performed sacrifices with fit offerings (to the Brahmanas), obtained renown in this world and at last succumbed to the sway of time. Such were Saivya; the valiant Maharatha; Srinjaya, great amongst conquerors; Suhotra; Rantideva, and Kakshivanta, great in glory; Valhika, Damana, Saryati, Ajita, and Nala; Viswamitra the destroyer of foes; Amvarisha, great in strength; Marutta, Manu, Ikshaku, Gaya, and Bharata; Rama the son of Dasaratha; Sasavindu, and Bhagiratha; Kritavirya, the greatly fortunate, and Janamejaya too; and Yayati of good deeds who performed sacrifices, being assisted therein by the celestials themselves, and by whose sacrificial altars and stakes this earth with her habited and uninhabited regions hath been marked all over. These twenty-four Rajas were formerly spoken of by the celestial Rishi Narada unto Saivya when much afflicted for the loss of his children. Besides these, other Rajas had gone before, still more powerful than they, mighty charioteers noble in mind, and resplendent with every worthy quality. These were Puru, Kuru, Yadu, Sura and Viswasrawa of great glory; Anuha, Yuvanaswu, Kakutstha, Vikrami, and Raghu; Vijava, Virihorta, Anga, Bhava, Sweta, and Vripadguru; Usinara, Sata-ratha, Kanka, Duliduha, and Druma; Dambhodbhava, Para, Vena, Sagara, Sankriti, and Nimi; Ajeya, Parasu, Pundra, Sambhu, and holy Deva- Vridha; Devahuya, Supratika, and Vrihad-ratha; Mahatsaha, Vinitatma, Sukratu, and Nala, the king of the Nishadas; Satyavrata, Santabhaya, Sumitra, and the chief Subala; Janujangha, Anaranya, Arka, Priyabhritya, Chuchi-vrata, Balabandhu, Nirmardda, Ketusringa, and Brhidbala; Dhrishtaketu, Brihatketu, Driptaketu, and Niramaya; Abikshit, Chapala, Dhurta, Kritbandhu, and Dridhe-shudhi; Mahapurana-sambhavya, Pratyanga, Paraha and Sruti. These, O chief, and other Rajas, we hear enumerated by hundreds and by thousands, and still others by millions, princes of great power and wisdom, quitting very abundant enjoyments met death as thy sons have done! Their heavenly deeds, valour, and generosity, their magnanimity, faith, truth, purity, simplicity and mercy, are published to the world in the records of former times by sacred bards of great learning. Though endued with every noble virtue, these have yielded up their lives. Thy sons were malevolent, inflamed with passion, avaricious, and of very evil disposition. Thou art versed in the Sastras, O Bharata, and art intelligent and wise; they never sink under misfortunes whose understandings are guided by the Sastras. Thou art acquainted, O prince, with the lenity and severity of fate; this anxiety therefore for the safety of thy children is unbecoming. Moreover, it behoveth thee not to grieve for that which must happen: for who can avert, by his wisdom, the decrees of fate? No one can leave the way marked out for him by Providence. Existence and non-existence, pleasure and pain all have Time for their root. Time createth all things and Time destroyeth all creatures. It is Time that burneth creatures and it is Time that extinguisheth the fire. All states, the good and the evil, in the three worlds, are caused by Time. Time cutteth short all things and createth them anew. Time alone is awake when all things are asleep: indeed, Time is incapable of being overcome. Time passeth over all things without being retarded. Knowing, as thou dost, that all things past and future and all that exist at the present moment, are the offspring of Time, it behoveth thee not to throw away thy reason.'" Sauti said, "The son of Gavalgana having in this manner administered comfort to the royal Dhritarashtra overwhelmed with grief for his sons, then restored his mind to peace. Taking these facts for his subject, Dwaipayana composed a holy Upanishad that has been published to the world by learned and sacred bards in the Puranas composed by them. "The study of the Bharata is an act of piety. He that readeth even one foot, with belief, hath his sins entirely purged away. Herein Devas, Devarshis, and immaculate Brahmarshis of good deeds, have been spoken of; and likewise Yakshas and great Uragas (Nagas). Herein also hath been described the eternal Vasudeva possessing the six attributes. He is the true and just, the pure and holy, the eternal Brahma, the supreme soul, the true constant light, whose divine deeds wise and learned recount; from whom hath proceeded the non-existent and existent-non-existent universe with principles of generation and progression, and birth, death and rebirth. That also hath been treated of which is called Adhyatma (the superintending spirit of nature) that partaketh of the attributes of the five elements. That also hath been described who is purusha being above such epithets as 'undisplayed' and the like; also that which the foremost yatis exempt from the common destiny and endued with the power of meditation and Tapas behold dwelling in their hearts as a reflected image in the mirror. "The man of faith, devoted to piety, and constant in the exercise of virtue, on reading this section is freed from sin. The believer that constantly heareth recited this section of the Bharata, called the Introduction, from the beginning, falleth not into difficulties. The man repeating any part of the introduction in the two twilights is during such act freed from the sins contracted during the day or the night. This section, the body of the Bharata, is truth and nectar. As butter is in curd, Brahmana among bipeds, the Aranyaka among the Vedas, and nectar among medicines; as the sea is eminent among receptacles of water, and the cow among quadrupeds; as are these (among the things mentioned) so is the Bharata said to be among histories. "He that causeth it, even a single foot thereof, to be recited to Brahmanas during a Sraddha, his offerings of food and drink to the manes of his ancestors become inexhaustible. "By the aid of history and the Puranas, the Veda may be expounded; but the Veda is afraid of one of little information lest he should learn it. The learned man who recites to other this Veda of Vyasa reapeth advantage. It may without doubt destroy even the sin of killing the embryo and the like. He that readeth this holy chapter of the moon, readeth the whole of the Bharata, I ween. The man who with reverence daily listeneth to this sacred work acquireth long life and renown and ascendeth to heaven. "In former days, having placed the four Vedas on one side and the Bharata on the other, these were weighed in the balance by the celestials assembled for that purpose. And as the latter weighed heavier than the four Vedas with their mysteries, from that period it hath been called in the world Mahabharata (the great Bharata). Being esteemed superior both in substance and gravity of import it is denominated Mahabharata on account of such substance and gravity of import. He that knoweth its meaning is saved from all his sins. "Tapa is innocent, study is harmless, the ordinance of the Vedas prescribed for all the tribes are harmless, the acquisition of wealth by exertion is harmless; but when they are abused in their practices it is then that they become sources of evil." SECTION II The Rishis said, "O son of Suta, we wish to hear a full and circumstantial account of the place mentioned by you as Samanta-panchaya." Sauti said, "Listen, O ye Brahmanas, to the sacred descriptions I utter. O ye best of men, ye deserve to hear of the place known as Samanta-panchaka. In the interval between the Treta and Dwapara Yugas, Rama (the son of Jamadagni) great among all who have borne arms, urged by impatience of wrongs, repeatedly smote the noble race of Kshatriyas. And when that fiery meteor, by his own valour, annihilated the entire tribe of the Kshatriyas, he formed at Samanta-panchaka five lakes of blood. We are told that his reason being overpowered by anger he offered oblations of blood to the manes of his ancestors, standing in the midst of the sanguine waters of those lakes. It was then that his forefathers of whom Richika was the first having arrived there addressed him thus, 'O Rama, O blessed Rama, O offspring of Bhrigu, we have been gratified with the reverence thou hast shown for thy ancestors and with thy valour, O mighty one! Blessings be upon thee. O thou illustrious one, ask the boon that thou mayst desire.' "Rama said, 'If, O fathers, ye are favourably disposed towards me, the boon I ask is that I may be absolved from the sins born of my having annihilated the Kshatriyas in anger, and that the lakes I have formed may become famous in the world as holy shrines.' The Pitris then said, 'So shall it be. But be thou pacified.' And Rama was pacified accordingly. The region that lieth near unto those lakes of gory water, from that time hath been celebrated as Samanta-panchaka the holy. The wise have declared that every country should be distinguished by a name significant of some circumstance which may have rendered it famous. In the interval between the Dwapara and the Kali Yugas there happened at Samanta-panchaka the encounter between the armies of the Kauravas and the Pandavas. In that holy region, without ruggedness of any kind, were assembled eighteen Akshauhinis of soldiers eager for battle. And, O Brahmanas, having come thereto, they were all slain on the spot. Thus the name of that region, O Brahmanas, hath been explained, and the country described to you as a sacred and delightful one. I have mentioned the whole of what relateth to it as the region is celebrated throughout the three worlds." The Rishis said, "We have a desire to know, O son of Suta, what is implied by the term Akshauhini that hath been used by thee. Tell us in full what is the number of horse and foot, chariots and elephants, which compose an Akshauhini for thou art fully informed." Sauti said, "One chariot, one elephant, five foot-soldiers, and three horses form one Patti; three pattis make one Sena-mukha; three sena-mukhas are called a Gulma; three gulmas, a Gana; three ganas, a Vahini; three vahinis together are called a Pritana; three pritanas form a Chamu; three chamus, one Anikini; and an anikini taken ten times forms, as it is styled by those who know, an Akshauhini. O ye best of Brahmanas, arithmeticians have calculated that the number of chariots in an Akshauhini is twenty-one thousand eight hundred and seventy. The measure of elephants must be fixed at the same number. O ye pure, you must know that the number of foot- soldiers is one hundred and nine thousand, three hundred and fifty, the number of horse is sixty-five thousand, six hundred and ten. These, O Brahmanas, as fully explained by me, are the numbers of an Akshauhini as said by those acquainted with the principles of numbers. O best of Brahmanas, according to this calculation were composed the eighteen Akshauhinis of the Kaurava and the Pandava army. Time, whose acts are wonderful assembled them on that spot and having made the Kauravas the cause, destroyed them all. Bhishma acquainted with choice of weapons, fought for ten days. Drona protected the Kaurava Vahinis for five days. Karna the desolator of hostile armies fought for two days; and Salya for half a day. After that lasted for half a day the encounter with clubs between Duryodhana and Bhima. At the close of that day, Aswatthaman and Kripa destroyed the army of Yudishthira in the night while sleeping without suspicion of danger. "O Saunaka, this best of narrations called Bharata which has begun to be repeated at thy sacrifice, was formerly repeated at the sacrifice of Janamejaya by an intelligent disciple of Vyasa. It is divided into several sections; in the beginning are Paushya, Pauloma, and Astika parvas, describing in full the valour and renown of kings. It is a work whose description, diction, and sense are varied and wonderful. It contains an account of various manners and rites. It is accepted by the wise, as the state called Vairagya is by men desirous of final release. As Self among things to be known, as life among things that are dear, so is this history that furnisheth the means of arriving at the knowledge of Brahma the first among all the sastras. There is not a story current in this world but doth depend upon this history even as the body upon the foot that it taketh. As masters of good lineage are ever attended upon by servants desirous of preferment so is the Bharata cherished by all poets. As the words constituting the several branches of knowledge appertaining to the world and the Veda display only vowels and consonants, so this excellent history displayeth only the highest wisdom. "Listen, O ye ascetics, to the outlines of the several divisions (parvas) of this history called Bharata, endued with great wisdom, of sections and feet that are wonderful and various, of subtile meanings and logical connections, and embellished with the substance of the Vedas. "The first parva is called Anukramanika; the second, Sangraha; then Paushya; then Pauloma; the Astika; then Adivansavatarana. Then comes the Sambhava of wonderful and thrilling incidents. Then comes Jatugrihadaha (setting fire to the house of lac) and then Hidimbabadha (the killing of Hidimba) parvas; then comes Baka-badha (slaughter of Baka) and then Chitraratha. The next is called Swayamvara (selection of husband by Panchali), in which Arjuna by the exercise of Kshatriya virtues, won Draupadi for wife. Then comes Vaivahika (marriage). Then comes Viduragamana (advent of Vidura), Rajyalabha (acquirement of kingdom), Arjuna-banavasa (exile of Arjuna) and Subhadra-harana (the carrying away of Subhadra). After these come Harana-harika, Khandava-daha (the burning of the Khandava forest) and Maya-darsana (meeting with Maya the Asura architect). Then come Sabha, Mantra, Jarasandha, Digvijaya (general campaign). After Digvijaya come Raja-suyaka, Arghyaviharana (the robbing of the Arghya) and Sisupala-badha (the killing of Sisupala). After these, Dyuta (gambling), Anudyuta (subsequent to gambling), Aranyaka, and Krimira- badha (destruction of Krimira). The Arjuna-vigamana (the travels of Arjuna), Kairati. In the last hath been described the battle between Arjuna and Mahadeva in the guise of a hunter. After this Indra- lokavigamana (the journey to the regions of Indra); then that mine of religion and virtue, the highly pathetic Nalopakhyana (the story of Nala). After this last, Tirtha-yatra or the pilgrimage of the wise prince of the Kurus, the death of Jatasura, and the battle of the Yakshas. Then the battle with the Nivata-kavachas, Ajagara, and Markandeya-Samasya (meeting with Markandeya). Then the meeting of Draupadi and Satyabhama, Ghoshayatra, Mirga-Swapna (dream of the deer). Then the story of Brihadaranyaka and then Aindradrumna. Then Draupadi-harana (the abduction of Draupadi), Jayadratha-bimoksana (the release of Jayadratha). Then the story of 'Savitri' illustrating the great merit of connubial chastity. After this last, the story of 'Rama'. The parva that comes next is called 'Kundala- harana' (the theft of the ear-rings). That which comes next is 'Aranya' and then 'Vairata'. Then the entry of the Pandavas and the fulfilment of their promise (of living unknown for one year). Then the destruction of the 'Kichakas', then the attempt to take the kine (of Virata by the Kauravas). The next is called the marriage of Abhimanyu with the daughter of Virata. The next you must know is the most wonderful parva called Udyoga. The next must be known by the name of 'Sanjaya-yana' (the arrival of Sanjaya). Then comes 'Prajagara' (the sleeplessness of Dhritarashtra owing to his anxiety). Then Sanatsujata, in which are the mysteries of spiritual philosophy. Then 'Yanasaddhi', and then the arrival of Krishna. Then the story of 'Matali' and then of 'Galava'. Then the stories of 'Savitri', 'Vamadeva', and 'Vainya'. Then the story of 'Jamadagnya and Shodasarajika'. Then the arrival of Krishna at the court, and then Bidulaputrasasana. Then the muster of troops and the story of Sheta. Then, must you know, comes the quarrel of the high-souled Karna. Then the march to the field of the troops of both sides. The next hath been called numbering the Rathis and Atirathas. Then comes the arrival of the messenger Uluka which kindled the wrath (of the Pandavas). The next that comes, you must know, is the story of Amba. Then comes the thrilling story of the installation of Bhishma as commander-in-chief. The next is called the creation of the insular region Jambu; then Bhumi; then the account about the formation of islands. Then comes the 'Bhagavat-gita'; and then the death of Bhishma. Then the installation of Drona; then the destruction of the 'Sansaptakas'. Then the death of Abhimanyu; and then the vow of Arjuna (to slay Jayadratha). Then the death of Jayadratha, and then of Ghatotkacha. Then, must you know, comes the story of the death of Drona of surprising interest. The next that comes is called the discharge of the weapon called Narayana. Then, you know, is Karna, and then Salya. Then comes the immersion in the lake, and then the encounter (between Bhima and Duryodhana) with clubs. Then comes Saraswata, and then the descriptions of holy shrines, and then genealogies. Then comes Sauptika describing incidents disgraceful (to the honour of the Kurus). Then comes the 'Aisika' of harrowing incidents. Then comes 'Jalapradana' oblations of water to the manes of the deceased, and then the wailings of the women. The next must be known as 'Sraddha' describing the funeral rites performed for the slain Kauravas. Then comes the destruction of the Rakshasa Charvaka who had assumed the disguise of a Brahmana (for deceiving Yudhishthira). Then the coronation of the wise Yudhishthira. The next is called the 'Grihapravibhaga'. Then comes 'Santi', then 'Rajadharmanusasana', then 'Apaddharma', then 'Mokshadharma'. Those that follow are called respectively 'Suka-prasna-abhigamana', 'Brahma- prasnanusana', the origin of 'Durvasa', the disputations with Maya. The next is to be known as 'Anusasanika'. Then the ascension of Bhishma to heaven. Then the horse-sacrifice, which when read purgeth all sins away. The next must be known as the 'Anugita' in which are words of spiritual philosophy. Those that follow are called 'Asramvasa', 'Puttradarshana' (meeting with the spirits of the deceased sons), and the arrival of Narada. The next is called 'Mausala' which abounds with terrible and cruel incidents. Then comes 'Mahaprasthanika' and ascension to heaven. Then comes the Purana which is called Khilvansa. In this last are contained 'Vishnuparva', Vishnu's frolics and feats as a child, the destruction of 'Kansa', and lastly, the very wonderful 'Bhavishyaparva' (in which there are prophecies regarding the future). "The high-souled Vyasa composed these hundred parvas of which the above is only an abridgement: having distributed them into eighteen, the son of Suta recited them consecutively in the forest of Naimisha as follows: "In the Adi parva are contained Paushya, Pauloma, Astika, Adivansavatara, Samva, the burning of the house of lac, the slaying of Hidimba, the destruction of the Asura Vaka, Chitraratha, the Swayamvara of Draupadi, her marriage after the overthrow of rivals in war, the arrival of Vidura, the restoration, Arjuna's exile, the abduction of Subhadra, the gift and receipt of the marriage dower, the burning of the Khandava forest, and the meeting with (the Asura-architect) Maya. The Paushya parva treats of the greatness of Utanka, and the Pauloma, of the sons of Bhrigu. The Astika describes the birth of Garuda and of the Nagas (snakes), the churning of the ocean, the incidents relating to the birth of the celestial steed Uchchaihsrava, and finally, the dynasty of Bharata, as described in the Snake-sacrifice of king Janamejaya. The Sambhava parva narrates the birth of various kings and heroes, and that of the sage, Krishna Dwaipayana: the partial incarnations of deities, the generation of Danavas and Yakshas of great prowess, and serpents, Gandharvas, birds, and of all creatures; and lastly, of the life and adventures of king Bharata--the progenitor of the line that goes by his name--the son born of Sakuntala in the hermitage of the ascetic Kanwa. This parva also describes the greatness of Bhagirathi, and the births of the Vasus in the house of Santanu and their ascension to heaven. In this parva is also narrated the birth of Bhishma uniting in himself portions of the energies of the other Vasus, his renunciation of royalty and adoption of the Brahmacharya mode of life, his adherence to his vows, his protection of Chitrangada, and after the death of Chitrangada, his protection of his younger brother, Vichitravirya, and his placing the latter on the throne: the birth of Dharma among men in consequence of the curse of Animondavya; the births of Dhritarashtra and Pandu through the potency of Vyasa's blessings (?) and also the birth of the Pandavas; the plottings of Duryodhana to send the sons of Pandu to Varanavata, and the other dark counsels of the sons of Dhritarashtra in regard to the Pandavas; then the advice administered to Yudhishthira on his way by that well-wisher of the Pandavas--Vidura--in the mlechchha language--the digging of the hole, the burning of Purochana and the sleeping woman of the fowler caste, with her five sons, in the house of lac; the meeting of the Pandavas in the dreadful forest with Hidimba, and the slaying of her brother Hidimba by Bhima of great prowess. The birth of Ghatotkacha; the meeting of the Pandavas with Vyasa and in accordance with his advice their stay in disguise in the house of a Brahmana in the city of Ekachakra; the destruction of the Asura Vaka, and the amazement of the populace at the sight; the extra-ordinary births of Krishna and Dhrishtadyumna; the departure of the Pandavas for Panchala in obedience to the injunction of Vyasa, and moved equally by the desire of winning the hand of Draupadi on learning the tidings of the Swayamvara from the lips of a Brahmana; victory of Arjuna over a Gandharva, called Angaraparna, on the banks of the Bhagirathi, his contraction of friendship with his adversary, and his hearing from the Gandharva the history of Tapati, Vasishtha and Aurva. This parva treats of the journey of the Pandavas towards Panchala, the acquisition of Draupadi in the midst of all the Rajas, by Arjuna, after having successfully pierced the mark; and in the ensuing fight, the defeat of Salya, Karna, and all the other crowned heads at the hands of Bhima and Arjuna of great prowess; the ascertainment by Balarama and Krishna, at the sight of these matchless exploits, that the heroes were the Pandavas, and the arrival of the brothers at the house of the potter where the Pandavas were staying; the dejection of Drupada on learning that Draupadi was to be wedded to five husbands; the wonderful story of the five Indras related in consequence; the extraordinary and divinely-ordained wedding of Draupadi; the sending of Vidura by the sons of Dhritarashtra as envoy to the Pandavas; the arrival of Vidura and his sight to Krishna; the abode of the Pandavas in Khandava-prastha, and then their rule over one half of the kingdom; the fixing of turns by the sons of Pandu, in obedience to the injunction of Narada, for connubial companionship with Krishna. In like manner hath the history of Sunda and Upasunda been recited in this. This parva then treats of the departure of Arjuna for the forest according to the vow, he having seen Draupadi and Yudhishthira sitting together as he entered the chamber to take out arms for delivering the kine of a certain Brahmana. This parva then describes Arjuna's meeting on the way with Ulupi, the daughter of a Naga (serpent); it then relates his visits to several sacred spots; the birth of Vabhruvahana; the deliverance by Arjuna of the five celestial damsels who had been turned into alligators by the imprecation of a Brahmana, the meeting of Madhava and Arjuna on the holy spot called Prabhasa; the carrying away of Subhadra by Arjuna, incited thereto by her brother Krishna, in the wonderful car moving on land and water, and through mid- air, according to the wish of the rider; the departure for Indraprastha, with the dower; the conception in the womb of Subhadra of that prodigy of prowess, Abhimanyu; Yajnaseni's giving birth to children; then follows the pleasure-trip of Krishna and Arjuna to the banks of the Jamuna and the acquisition by them of the discus and the celebrated bow Gandiva; the burning of the forest of Khandava; the rescue of Maya by Arjuna, and the escape of the serpent,--and the begetting of a son by that best of Rishis, Mandapala, in the womb of the bird Sarngi. This parva is divided by Vyasa into two hundred and twenty-seven chapters. These two hundred and twenty- seven chapters contain eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-four slokas. "The second is the extensive parva called Sabha or the assembly, full of matter. The subjects of this parva are the establishment of the grand hall by the Pandavas; their review of their retainers; the description of the lokapalas by Narada well-acquainted with the celestial regions; the preparations for the Rajasuya sacrifice; the destruction of Jarasandha; the deliverance by Vasudeva of the princes confined in the mountain-pass; the campaign of universal conquest by the Pandavas; the arrival of the princes at the Rajasuya sacrifice with tribute; the destruction of Sisupala on the occasion of the sacrifice, in connection with offering of arghya; Bhimasena's ridicule of Duryodhana in the assembly; Duryodhana's sorrow and envy at the sight of the magnificent scale on which the arrangements had been made; the indignation of Duryodhana in consequence, and the preparations for the game of dice; the defeat of Yudhishthira at play by the wily Sakuni; the deliverance by Dhritarashtra of his afflicted daughter-in-law Draupadi plunged in the sea of distress caused by the gambling, as of a boat tossed about by the tempestuous waves. The endeavours of Duryodhana to engage Yudhishthira again in the game; and the exile of the defeated Yudhishthira with his brothers. These constitute what has been called by the great Vyasa the Sabha Parva. This parva is divided into seventh-eight sections, O best of Brahmanas, of two thousand, five hundred and seven slokas. "Then comes the third parva called Aranyaka (relating to the forest). This parva treats of the wending of the Pandavas to the forest and the citizens following the wise Yudhishthira, Yudhishthira's adoration of the god of day, according to the injunctions of Dhaumya, to be gifted with the power of maintaining the dependent Brahmanas with food and drink: the creation of food through the grace of the Sun: the expulsion by Dhritarashtra of Vidura who always spoke for his master's good; Vidura's coming to the Pandavas and his return to Dhritarashtra at the solicitation of the latter; the wicked Duryodhana's plottings to destroy the forest-ranging Pandavas, being incited thereto by Karna; the appearance of Vyasa and his dissuasion of Duryodhana bent on going to the forest; the history of Surabhi; the arrival of Maitreya; his laying down to Dhritarashtra the course of action; and his curse on Duryodhana; Bhima's slaying of Kirmira in battle; the coming of the Panchalas and the princes of the Vrishni race to Yudhishthira on hearing of his defeat at the unfair gambling by Sakuni; Dhananjaya's allaying the wrath of Krishna; Draupadi's lamentations before Madhava; Krishna's cheering her; the fall of Sauva also has been here described by the Rishi; also Krishna's bringing Subhadra with her son to Dwaraka; and Dhrishtadyumna's bringing the son of Draupadi to Panchala; the entrance of the sons of Pandu into the romantic Dwaita wood; conversation of Bhima, Yudhishthira, and Draupadi; the coming of Vyasa to the Pandavas and his endowing Yudhishthira with the power of Pratismriti; then, after the departure of Vyasa, the removal of the Pandavas to the forest of Kamyaka; the wanderings of Arjuna of immeasurable prowess in search of weapons; his battle with Mahadeva in the guise of a hunter; his meeting with the lokapalas and receipt of weapons from them; his journey to the regions of Indra for arms and the consequent anxiety of Dhritarashtra; the wailings and lamentations of Yudhishthira on the occasion of his meeting with the worshipful great sage Brihadaswa. Here occurs the holy and highly pathetic story of Nala illustrating the patience of Damayanti and the character of Nala. Then the acquirement by Yudhishthira of the mysteries of dice from the same great sage; then the arrival of the Rishi Lomasa from the heavens to where the Pandavas were, and the receipt by these high-souled dwellers in the woods of the intelligence brought by the Rishi of their brother Arjuna staying in the heavens; then the pilgrimage of the Pandavas to various sacred spots in accordance with the message of Arjuna, and their attainment of great merit and virtue consequent on such pilgrimage; then the pilgrimage of the great sage Narada to the shrine Putasta; also the pilgrimage of the high-souled Pandavas. Here is the deprivation of Karna of his ear-rings by Indra. Here also is recited the sacrificial magnificence of Gaya; then the story of Agastya in which the Rishi ate up the Asura Vatapi, and his connubial connection with Lopamudra from the desire of offspring. Then the story of Rishyasringa who adopted Brahmacharya mode of life from his very boyhood; then the history of Rama of great prowess, the son of Jamadagni, in which has been narrated the death of Kartavirya and the Haihayas; then the meeting between the Pandavas and the Vrishnis in the sacred spot called Prabhasa; then the story of Sukanya in which Chyavana, the son of Bhrigu, made the twins, Aswinis, drink, at the sacrifice of king Saryati, the Soma juice (from which they had been excluded by the other gods), and in which besides is shown how Chyavana himself acquired perpetual youth (as a boon from the grateful Aswinis). Then hath been described the history of king Mandhata; then the history of prince Jantu; and how king Somaka by offering up his only son (Jantu) in sacrifice obtained a hundred others; then the excellent history of the hawk and the pigeon; then the examination of king Sivi by Indra, Agni, and Dharma; then the story of Ashtavakra, in which occurs the disputation, at the sacrifice of Janaka, between that Rishi and the first of logicians, Vandi, the son of Varuna; the defeat of Vandi by the great Ashtavakra, and the release by the Rishi of his father from the depths of the ocean. Then the story of Yavakrita, and then that of the great Raivya: then the departure (of the Pandavas) for Gandhamadana and their abode in the asylum called Narayana; then Bhimasena's journey to Gandhamadana at the request of Draupadi (in search of the sweet-scented flower). Bhima's meeting on his way, in a grove of bananas, with Hanuman, the son of Pavana of great prowess; Bhima's bath in the tank and the destruction of the flowers therein for obtaining the sweet-scented flower (he was in search of); his consequent battle with the mighty Rakshasas and the Yakshas of great prowess including Hanuman; the destruction of the Asura Jata by Bhima; the meeting (of the Pandavas) with the royal sage Vrishaparva; their departure for the asylum of Arshtishena and abode therein; the incitement of Bhima (to acts of vengeance) by Draupadi. Then is narrated the ascent on the hills of Kailasa by Bhimasena, his terrific battle with the mighty Yakshas headed by Hanuman; then the meeting of the Pandavas with Vaisravana (Kuvera), and the meeting with Arjuna after he had obtained for the purpose of Yudhishthira many celestial weapons; then Arjuna's terrible encounter with the Nivatakavachas dwelling in Hiranyaparva, and also with the Paulomas, and the Kalakeyas; their destruction at the hands of Arjuna; the commencement of the display of the celestial weapons by Arjuna before Yudhishthira, the prevention of the same by Narada; the descent of the Pandavas from Gandhamadana; the seizure of Bhima in the forest by a mighty serpent huge as the mountain; his release from the coils of the snake, upon Yudhishthira's answering certain questions; the return of the Pandavas to the Kamyaka woods. Here is described the reappearance of Vasudeva to see the mighty sons of Pandu; the arrival of Markandeya, and various recitals, the history of Prithu the son of Vena recited by the great Rishi; the stories of Saraswati and the Rishi Tarkhya. After these, is the story of Matsya; other old stories recited by Markandeya; the stories of Indradyumna and Dhundhumara; then the history of the chaste wife; the history of Angira, the meeting and conversation of Draupadi and Satyabhama; the return of the Pandavas to the forest of Dwaita; then the procession to see the calves and the captivity of Duryodhana; and when the wretch was being carried off, his rescue by Arjuna; here is Yudhishthira's dream of the deer; then the re-entry of the Pandavas into the Kamyaka forest, here also is the long story of Vrihidraunika. Here also is recited the story of Durvasa; then the abduction by Jayadratha of Draupadi from the asylum; the pursuit of the ravisher by Bhima swift as the air and the ill-shaving of Jayadratha's crown at Bhima's hand. Here is the long history of Rama in which is shown how Rama by his prowess slew Ravana in battle. Here also is narrated the story of Savitri; then Karna's deprivation by Indra of his ear-rings; then the presentation to Karna by the gratified Indra of a Sakti (missile weapon) which had the virtue of killing only one person against whom it might be hurled; then the story called Aranya in which Dharma (the god of justice) gave advice to his son (Yudhishthira); in which, besides is recited how the Pandavas after having obtained a boon went towards the west. These are all included in the third Parva called Aranyaka, consisting of two hundred and sixty-nine sections. The number of slokas is eleven thousand, six hundred and sixty-four. "The extensive Parva that comes next is called Virata. The Pandavas arriving at the dominions of Virata saw in a cemetery on the outskirts of the city a large shami tree whereon they kept their weapons. Here hath been recited their entry into the city and their stay there in disguise. Then the slaying by Bhima of the wicked Kichaka who, senseless with lust, had sought Draupadi; the appointment by prince Duryodhana of clever spies; and their despatch to all sides for tracing the Pandavas; the failure of these to discover the mighty sons of Pandu; the first seizure of Virata's kine by the Trigartas and the terrific battle that ensued; the capture of Virata by the enemy and his rescue by Bhimasena; the release also of the kine by the Pandava (Bhima); the seizure of Virata's kine again by the Kurus; the defeat in battle of all the Kurus by the single-handed Arjuna; the release of the king's kine; the bestowal by Virata of his daughter Uttara for Arjuna's acceptance on behalf of his son by Subhadra--Abhimanyu --the destroyer of foes. These are the contents of the extensive fourth Parva--the Virata. The great Rishi Vyasa has composed in these sixty-seven sections. The number of slokas is two thousand and fifty. "Listen then to (the contents of) the fifth Parva which must be known as Udyoga. While the Pandavas, desirous of victory, were residing in the place called Upaplavya, Duryodhana and Arjuna both went at the same time to Vasudeva, and said, 'You should render us assistance in this war.' The high-souled Krishna, upon these words being uttered, replied, 'O ye first of men, a counsellor in myself who will not fight and one Akshauhini of troops, which of these shall I give to which of you?' Blind to his own interests, the foolish Duryodhana asked for the troops; while Arjuna solicited Krishna as an unfighting counsellor. Then is described how, when the king of Madra was coming for the assistance of the Pandavas, Duryodhana, having deceived him on the way by presents and hospitality, induced him to grant a boon and then solicited his assistance in battle; how Salya, having passed his word to Duryodhana, went to the Pandavas and consoled them by reciting the history of Indra's victory (over Vritra). Then comes the despatch by the Pandavas of their Purohita (priest) to the Kauravas. Then is described how king Dhritarashtra of great prowess, having heard the word of the purohita of the Pandavas and the story of Indra's victory decided upon sending his purohita and ultimately despatched Sanjaya as envoy to the Pandavas from desire for peace. Here hath been described the sleeplessness of Dhritarashtra from anxiety upon hearing all about the Pandavas and their friends, Vasudeva and others. It was on this occasion that Vidura addressed to the wise king Dhritarashtra various counsels that were full of wisdom. It was here also that Sanat- sujata recited to the anxious and sorrowing monarch the excellent truths of spiritual philosophy. On the next morning Sanjaya spoke, in the court of the King, of the identity of Vasudeva and Arjuna. It was then that the illustrious Krishna, moved by kindness and a desire for peace, went himself to the Kaurava capital, Hastinapura, for bringing about peace. Then comes the rejection by prince Duryodhana of the embassy of Krishna who had come to solicit peace for the benefit of both parties. Here hath been recited the story of Damvodvava; then the story of the high-souled Matuli's search for a husband for his daughter: then the history of the great sage Galava; then the story of the training and discipline of the son of Bidula. Then the exhibition by Krishna, before the assembled Rajas, of his Yoga powers upon learning the evil counsels of Duryodhana and Karna; then Krishna's taking Karna in his chariot and his tendering to him of advice, and Karna's rejection of the same from pride. Then the return of Krishna, the chastiser of enemies from Hastinapura to Upaplavya, and his narration to the Pandavas of all that had happened. It was then that those oppressors of foes, the Pandavas, having heard all and consulted properly with each other, made every preparation for war. Then comes the march from Hastinapura, for battle, of foot-soldiers, horses, charioteers and elephants. Then the tale of the troops by both parties. Then the despatch by prince Duryodhana of Uluka as envoy to the Pandavas on the day previous to the battle. Then the tale of charioteers of different classes. Then the story of Amba. These all have been described in the fifth Parva called Udyoga of the Bharata, abounding with incidents appertaining to war and peace. O ye ascetics, the great Vyasa hath composed one hundred and eighty- six sections in this Parva. The number of slokas also composed in this by the great Rishi is six thousand, six hundred and ninety-eight. "Then is recited the Bhishma Parva replete with wonderful incidents. In this hath been narrated by Sanjaya the formation of the region known as Jambu. Here hath been described the great depression of Yudhishthira's army, and also a fierce fight for ten successive days. In this the high- souled Vasudeva by reasons based on the philosophy of final release drove away Arjuna's compunction springing from the latter's regard for his kindred (whom he was on the eve of slaying). In this the magnanimous Krishna, attentive to the welfare of Yudhishthira, seeing the loss inflicted (on the Pandava army), descended swiftly from his chariot himself and ran, with dauntless breast, his driving whip in hand, to effect the death of Bhishma. In this, Krishna also smote with piercing words Arjuna, the bearer of the Gandiva and the foremost in battle among all wielders of weapons. In this, the foremost of bowmen, Arjuna, placing Shikandin before him and piercing Bhishma with his sharpest arrows felled him from his chariot. In this, Bhishma lay stretched on his bed of arrows. This extensive Parva is known as the sixth in the Bharata. In this have been composed one hundred and seventeen sections. The number of slokas is five thousand, eight hundred and eighty-four as told by Vyasa conversant with the Vedas. "Then is recited the wonderful Parva called Drona full of incidents. First comes the installation in the command of the army of the great instructor in arms, Drona: then the vow made by that great master of weapons of seizing the wise Yudhishthira in battle to please Duryodhana; then the retreat of Arjuna from the field before the Sansaptakas, then the overthrow of Bhagadatta like to a second Indra in the field, with the elephant Supritika, by Arjuna; then the death of the hero Abhimanyu in his teens, alone and unsupported, at the hands of many Maharathas including Jayadratha; then after the death of Abhimanyu, the destruction by Arjuna, in battle of seven Akshauhinis of troops and then of Jayadratha; then the entry, by Bhima of mighty arms and by that foremost of warriors-in-chariot, Satyaki, into the Kaurava ranks impenetrable even to the gods, in search of Arjuna in obedience to the orders of Yudhishthira, and the destruction of the remnant of the Sansaptakas. In the Drona Parva, is the death of Alambusha, of Srutayus, of Jalasandha, of Shomadatta, of Virata, of the great warrior-in-chariot Drupada, of Ghatotkacha and others; in this Parva, Aswatthaman, excited beyond measure at the fall of his father in battle, discharged the terrible weapon Narayana. Then the glory of Rudra in connection with the burning (of the three cities). Then the arrival of Vyasa and recital by him of the glory of Krishna and Arjuna. This is the great seventh Parva of the Bharata in which all the heroic chiefs and princes mentioned were sent to their account. The number of sections in this is one hundred and seventy. The number of slokas as composed in the Drona Parva by Rishi Vyasa, the son of Parasara and the possessor of true knowledge after much meditation, is eight thousand, nine hundred and nine. "Then comes the most wonderful Parva called Karna. In this is narrated the appointment of the wise king of Madra as (Karna's) charioteer. Then the history of the fall of the Asura Tripura. Then the application to each other by Karna and Salya of harsh words on their setting out for the field, then the story of the swan and the crow recited in insulting allusion: then the death of Pandya at the hands of the high-souled Aswatthaman; then the death of Dandasena; then that of Darda; then Yudhishthira's imminent risk in single combat with Karna in the presence of all the warriors; then the mutual wrath of Yudhishthira and Arjuna; then Krishna's pacification of Arjuna. In this Parva, Bhima, in fulfilment of his vow, having ripped open Dussasana's breast in battle drank the blood of his heart. Then Arjuna slew the great Karna in single combat. Readers of the Bharata call this the eighth Parva. The number of sections in this is sixty-nine and the number of slokas is four thousand, nine hundred and sixty-tour. "Then hath been recited the wonderful Parva called Salya. After all the great warriors had been slain, the king of Madra became the leader of the (Kaurava) army. The encounters one after another, of charioteers, have been here described. Then comes the fall of the great Salya at the hands of Yudhishthira, the Just. Here also is the death of Sakuni in battle at the hands of Sahadeva. Upon only a small remnant of the troops remaining alive after the immense slaughter, Duryodhana went to the lake and creating for himself room within its waters lay stretched there for some time. Then is narrated the receipt of this intelligence by Bhima from the fowlers: then is narrated how, moved by the insulting speeches of the intelligent Yudhishthira, Duryodhana ever unable to bear affronts, came out of the waters. Then comes the encounter with clubs, between Duryodhana and Bhima; then the arrival, at the time of such encounter, of Balarama: then is described the sacredness of the Saraswati; then the progress of the encounter with clubs; then the fracture of Duryodhana's thighs in battle by Bhima with (a terrific hurl of) his mace. These all have been described in the wonderful ninth Parva. In this the number of sections is fifty-nine and the number of slokas composed by the great Vyasa--the spreader of the fame of the Kauravas--is three thousand, two hundred and twenty. "Then shall I describe the Parva called Sauptika of frightful incidents. On the Pandavas having gone away, the mighty charioteers, Kritavarman, Kripa, and the son of Drona, came to the field of battle in the evening and there saw king Duryodhana lying on the ground, his thighs broken, and himself covered with blood. Then the great charioteer, the son of Drona, of terrible wrath, vowed, 'without killing all the Panchalas including Drishtadyumna, and the Pandavas also with all their allies, I will not take off armour.' Having spoken those words, the three warriors leaving Duryodhana's side entered the great forest just as the sun was setting. While sitting under a large banian tree in the night, they saw an owl killing numerous crows one after another. At the sight of this, Aswatthaman, his heart full of rage at the thought of his father's fate, resolved to slay the slumbering Panchalas. And wending to the gate of the camp, he saw there a Rakshasa of frightful visage, his head reaching to the very heavens, guarding the entrance. And seeing that Rakshasa obstructing all his weapons, the son of Drona speedily pacified by worship the three-eyed Rudra. And then accompanied by Kritavarman and Kripa he slew all the sons of Draupadi, all the Panchalas with Dhrishtadyumna and others, together with their relatives, slumbering unsuspectingly in the night. All perished on that fatal night except the five Pandavas and the great warrior Satyaki. Those escaped owing to Krishna's counsels, then the charioteer of Dhrishtadyumna brought to the Pandavas intelligence of the slaughter of the slumbering Panchalas by the son of Drona. Then Draupadi distressed at the death of her sons and brothers and father sat before her lords resolved to kill herself by fasting. Then Bhima of terrible prowess, moved by the words of Draupadi, resolved, to please her; and speedily taking up his mace followed in wrath the son of his preceptor in arms. The son of Drona from fear of Bhimasena and impelled by the fates and moved also by anger discharged a celestial weapon saying, 'This is for the destruction of all the Pandavas'; then Krishna saying. 'This shall not be', neutralised Aswatthaman's speech. Then Arjuna neutralised that weapon by one of his own. Seeing the wicked Aswatthaman's destructive intentions, Dwaipayana and Krishna pronounced curses on him which the latter returned. Pandava then deprived the mighty warrior-in-chariot Aswatthaman, of the jewel on his head, and became exceedingly glad, and, boastful of their success, made a present of it to the sorrowing Draupadi. Thus the tenth Parva, called Sauptika, is recited. The great Vyasa hath composed this in eighteen sections. The number of slokas also composed (in this) by the great reciter of sacred truths is eight hundred and seventy. In this Parva has been put together by the great Rishi the two Parvas called Sauptika and Aishika. "After this hath been recited the highly pathetic Parva called Stri, Dhritarashtra of prophetic eye, afflicted at the death of his children, and moved by enmity towards Bhima, broke into pieces a statue of hard iron deftly placed before him by Krishna (as substitute of Bhima). Then Vidura, removing the distressed Dhritarashtra's affection for worldly things by reasons pointing to final release, consoled that wise monarch. Then hath been described the wending of the distressed Dhritarashtra accompanied by the ladies of his house to the field of battle of the Kauravas. Here follow the pathetic wailings of the wives of the slain heroes. Then the wrath of Gandhari and Dhritarashtra and their loss of consciousness. Then the Kshatriya ladies saw those heroes,--their unreturning sons, brothers, and fathers,--lying dead on the field. Then the pacification by Krishna of the wrath of Gandhari distressed at the death of her sons and grandsons. Then the cremation of the bodies of the deceased Rajas with due rites by that monarch (Yudhishthira) of great wisdom and the foremost also of all virtuous men. Then upon the presentation of water of the manes of the deceased princes having commenced, the story of Kunti's acknowledgment of Karna as her son born in secret. Those have all been described by the great Rishi Vyasa in the highly pathetic eleventh Parva. Its perusal moveth every feeling heart with sorrow and even draweth tears from the eyes. The number of sections composed is twenty-seven. The number of slokas is seven hundred and seventy-five. "Twelfth in number cometh the Santi Parva, which increaseth the understanding and in which is related the despondency of Yudhishthira on his having slain his fathers, brothers, sons, maternal uncles and matrimonial relations. In this Parva is described how from his bed of arrows Bhishma expounded various systems of duties worth the study of kings desirous of knowledge; this Parva expounded the duties relative to emergencies, with full indications of time and reasons. By understanding these, a person attaineth to consummate knowledge. The mysteries also of final emancipation have been expatiated upon. This is the twelfth Parva the favourite of the wise. It consists of three hundred and thirty-nine sections, and contains fourteen thousand, seven hundred and thirty-two slokas. "Next in order is the excellent Anusasana Parva. In it is described how Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, was reconciled to himself on hearing the exposition of duties by Bhishma, the son of Bhagirathi. This Parva treats of rules in detail and of Dharma and Artha; then the rules of charity and its merits; then the qualifications of donees, and the supreme ride-regarding gifts. This Parva also describes the ceremonials of individual duty, the rules of conduct and the matchless merit of truth. This Parva showeth the great merit of Brahmanas and kine, and unraveleth the mysteries of duties in relation to time and place. These are embodied in the excellent Parva called Anusasana of varied incidents. In this hath been described the ascension of Bhishma to Heaven. This is the thirteenth Parva which hath laid down accurately the various duties of men. The number of sections, in this is one hundred and forty-six. The number of slokas is eight thousand. "Then comes the fourteenth Parva Aswamedhika. In this is the excellent story of Samvarta and Marutta. Then is described the discovery (by the Pandavas) of golden treasuries; and then the birth of Parikshit who was revived by Krishna after having been burnt by the (celestial) weapon of Aswatthaman. The battles of Arjuna the son of Pandu, while following the sacrificial horse let loose, with various princes who in wrath seized it. Then is shown the great risk of Arjuna in his encounter with Vabhruvahana the son of Chitrangada (by Arjuna) the appointed daughter of the chief of Manipura. Then the story of the mongoose during the performance of the horse-sacrifice. This is the most wonderful Parva called Aswamedhika. The number of sections is one hundred and three. The number of slokas composed (in this) by Vyasa of true knowledge is three thousand, three hundred and twenty. "Then comes the fifteenth Parva called Asramvasika. In this, Dhritarashtra, abdicating the kingdom, and accompanied by Gandhari and Vidura went to the woods. Seeing this, the virtuous Pritha also, ever engaged in cherishing her superiors, leaving the court of her sons, followed the old couple. In this is described the wonderful meeting through the kindness of Vyasa of the king (Dhritarashtra) with the spirits of his slain children, grand- children, and other princes, returned from the other world. Then the monarch abandoning his sorrows acquired with his wife the highest fruit of his meritorious actions. In this Parva, Vidura after having leaned on virtue all his life attaineth to the most meritorious state. "The learned son of Gavalgana, Sanjaya, also of passions under full control, and the foremost of ministers, attained, in the Parva, to the blessed state. In this, Yudhishthira the just met Narada and heard from him about the extinction of the race of Vrishnis. This is the very wonderful Parva called Asramvasika. The number of sections in this is forty-two, and the number of slokas composed by Vyasa cognisant of truth is one thousand five hundred and six. "After this, you know, comes the Maushala of painful incidents. In this, those lion-hearted heroes (of the race of Vrishni) with the scars of many a field on their bodies, oppressed with the curse of a Brahmana, while deprived of reason from drink, impelled by the fates, slew each other on the shores of the Salt Sea with the Eraka grass which (in their hands) became (invested with the fatal attributes of the) thunder. In this, both Balarama and Kesava (Krishna) after causing the extermination of their race, their hour having come, themselves did not rise superior to the sway of all-destroying Time. In this, Arjuna the foremost among men, going to Dwaravati (Dwaraka) and seeing the city destitute of the Vrishnis was much affected and became exceedingly sorry. Then after the funeral of his maternal uncle Vasudeva the foremost among the Yadus (Vrishnis), he saw the heroes of the Yadu race lying stretched in death on the spot where they had been drinking. He then caused the cremation of the bodies of the illustrious Krishna and Balarama and of the principal members of the Vrishni race. Then as he was journeying from Dwaraka with the women and children, the old and the decrepit--the remnants of the Yadu race--he was met on the way by a heavy calamity. He witnessed also the disgrace of his bow Gandiva and the unpropitiousness of his celestial weapons. Seeing all this, Arjuna became despondent and, pursuant to Vyasa's advice, went to Yudhishthira and solicited permission to adopt the Sannyasa mode of life. This is the sixteenth Parva called Maushala. The number of sections is eight and the number of slokas composed by Vyasa cognisant of truth is three hundred and twenty. "The next is Mahaprasthanika, the seventeenth Parva. "In this, those foremost among men the Pandavas abdicating their kingdom went with Draupadi on their great journey called Mahaprasthana. In this, they came across Agni, having arrived on the shore of the sea of red waters. In this, asked by Agni himself, Arjuna worshipped him duly, returned to him the excellent celestial bow called Gandiva. In this, leaving his brothers who dropped one after another and Draupadi also, Yudhishthira went on his journey without once looking back on them. This the seventeenth Parva is called Mahaprasthanika. The number of sections in this is three. The number of slokas also composed by Vyasa cognisant of truth is three hundred and twenty. "The Parva that comes after this, you must know, is the extraordinary one called Svarga of celestial incidents. Then seeing the celestial car come to take him, Yudhishthira moved by kindness towards the dog that accompanied him, refused to ascend it without his companion. Observing the illustrious Yudhishthira's steady adherence to virtue, Dharma (the god of justice) abandoning his canine form showed himself to the king. Then Yudhishthira ascending to heaven felt much pain. The celestial messenger showed him hell by an act of deception. Then Yudhishthira, the soul of justice, heard the heart-rending lamentations of his brothers abiding in that region under the discipline of Yama. Then Dharma and Indra showed Yudhishthira the region appointed for sinners. Then Yudhishthira, after leaving the human body by a plunge in the celestial Ganges, attained to that region which his acts merited, and began to live in joy respected by Indra and all other gods. This is the eighteenth Parva as narrated by the illustrious Vyasa. The number of slokas composed, O ascetics, by the great Rishi in this is two hundred and nine. "The above are the contents of the Eighteen Parvas. In the appendix (Khita) are the Harivansa and the Vavishya. The number of slokas contained in the Harivansa is twelve thousand. "These are the contents of the section called Parva-sangraha." Sauti continued, "Eighteen Akshauhinis of troops came together for battle. The encounter that ensued was terrible and lasted for eighteen days. He who knows the four Vedas with all the Angas and Upanishads, but does not know this history (Bharata), cannot be regarded as wise. Vyasa of immeasurable intelligence, has spoken of the Mahabharata as a treatise on Artha, on Dharma, and on Kama. Those who have listened to his history can never bear to listen to others, as, indeed, they who have listened to the sweet voice of the male Kokila can never hear the dissonance of the crow's cawing. As the formation of the three worlds proceedeth from the five elements, so do the inspirations of all poets proceed from this excellent composition. O ye Brahman, as the four kinds of creatures (viviparous, oviparous, born of hot moisture and vegetables) are dependent on space for their existence, so the Puranas depend upon this history. As all the senses depend for their exercise upon the various modifications of the mind, so do all acts (ceremonials) and moral qualities depend upon this treatise. There is not a story current in the world but doth depend on this history, even as body upon the food it taketh. All poets cherish the Bharata even as servants desirous of preferment always attend upon masters of good lineage. Even as the blessed domestic Asrama can never be surpassed by the three other Asramas (modes of life) so no poets can surpass this poem. "Ye ascetics, shake off all inaction. Let your hearts be fixed on virtue, for virtue is the one only friend of him that has gone to the other world. Even the most intelligent by cherishing wealth and wives can never make these their own, nor are these possessions lasting. The Bharata uttered by the lips of Dwaipayana is without a parallel; it is virtue itself and sacred. It destroyeth sin and produceth good. He that listeneth to it while it is being recited hath no need of a bath in the sacred waters of Pushkara. A Brahmana, whatever sins he may commit during the day through his senses, is freed from them all by reading the Bharata in the evening. Whatever sins he may commit also in the night by deeds, words, or mind, he is freed from them all by reading Bharata in the first twilight (morning). He that giveth a hundred kine with horns mounted with gold to a Brahmana well-posted up in the Vedas and all branches of learning, and he that daily listeneth to the sacred narrations of the Bharata, acquireth equal merit. As the wide ocean is easily passable by men having ships, so is this extensive history of great excellence and deep import with the help of this chapter called Parva sangraha." Thus endeth the section called Parva-sangraha of the Adi Parva of the blessed Mahabharata. SECTION III (Paushya Parva) Sauti said, "Janamejaya, the son of Parikshit, was, with his brothers, attending his long sacrifice on the plains of Kurukshetra. His brothers were three, Srutasena, Ugrasena, and Bhimasena. And as they were sitting at the sacrifice, there arrived at the spot an offspring of Sarama (the celestial bitch). And belaboured by the brothers of Janamejaya, he ran away to his mother, crying in pain. And his mother seeing him crying exceedingly asked him, 'Why criest thou so? Who hath beaten thee?' And being thus questioned, he said unto his mother, 'I have been belaboured by the brothers of Janamejaya.' And his mother replied, 'Thou hast committed some fault for which hast thou been beaten!' He answered, 'I have not committed any fault. I have not touched the sacrificial butter with my tongue, nor have I even cast a look upon it.' His mother Sarama hearing this and much distressed at the affliction of her son went to the place where Janamejaya with his brothers was at his long-extending sacrifice. And she addressed Janamejaya in anger, saying, 'This my son hath committed no fault: he hath not looked upon your sacrificial butter, nor hath he touched it with his tongue. Wherefore hath he been beaten?' They said not a word in reply; whereupon she said, 'As ye have beaten my son who hath committed no fault, therefore shall evil come upon ye, when ye least expect it.' "Janamejaya, thus addressed by the celestial bitch, Sarama, became exceedingly alarmed and dejected. And after the sacrifice was concluded returned to Hastinapura, and began to take great pains in searching for a Purohita who could by procuring absolution for his sin, neutralise the effect of the curse. "One day Janamejaya, the son of Parikshit, while a-hunting, observed in a particular part of his dominions a hermitage where dwelt a certain Rishi of fame, Srutasrava. He had a son named Somasrava deeply engaged in ascetic devotions. Being desirous of appointing that son of the Rishi as his Purohita, Janamejaya, the son of Parikshit, saluted the Rishi and addressed him, saying, 'O possessor of the six attributes, let this thy son be my purohita.' The Rishi thus addressed, answered Janamejaya, 'O Janamejaya, this my son, deep in ascetic devotions, accomplished in the study of the Vedas, and endued with the full force of my asceticism, is born of (the womb of) a she-snake that had drunk my vital fluid. He is able to absolve thee from all offences save those committed against Mahadeva. But he hath one particular habit, viz. he would grant to any Brahmana whatever might be begged of him. If thou canst put up with it, then thou take him.' Janamejaya thus addressed replied to the Rishi, 'It shall be even so.' And accepting him for his Purohita, he returned to his capital; and he then addressed his brothers saying, 'This is the person I have chosen for my spiritual master; whatsoever he may say must be complied with by you without examination.' And his brothers did as they were directed. And giving these directions to his brothers, the king marched towards Takshyashila and brought that country under his authority. "About this time there was a Rishi, Ayoda-Dhaumya by name. And Ayoda- Dhaumya had three disciples, Upamanyu, Aruni, and Veda. And the Rishi bade one of these disciples, Aruni of Panchala, to go and stop up a breach in the water-course of a certain field. And Aruni of Panchala, thus ordered by his preceptor, repaired to the spot. And having gone there he saw that he could not stop up the breach in the water-course by ordinary means. And he was distressed because he could not do his preceptor's bidding. But at length he saw a way and said, 'Well, I will do it in this way.' He then went down into the breach and lay down himself there. And the water was thus confined. "And some time after, the preceptor Ayoda-Dhaumya asked his other disciples where Aruni of Panchala was. And they answered, 'Sir, he hath been sent by yourself saying, "Go, stop up the breach in the water-course of the field."' Thus reminded, Dhaumya, addressing his pupils, said, 'Then let us all go to the place where he is.' "And having arrived there, he shouted, 'Ho Aruni of Panchala! Where art thou? Come hither, my child.' And Aruni hearing the voice of his preceptor speedily came out of the water-course and stood before his preceptor. And addressing the latter, Aruni said, 'Here I am in the breach of the water- course. Not having been able to devise any other means, I entered myself for the purpose of preventing the water running out. It is only upon hearing thy voice that, having left it and allowed the waters to escape, I have stood before thee. I salute thee, Master; tell me what I have to do.' "The preceptor, thus addressed, replied, 'Because in getting up from the ditch thou hast opened the water-course, thenceforth shalt thou be called Uddalaka as a mark of thy preceptor's favour. And because my words have been obeyed by thee, thou shalt obtain good fortune. And all the Vedas shall shine in thee and all the Dharmasastras also.' And Aruni, thus addressed by his preceptor, went to the country after his heart. "The name of another of Ayoda-Dhaumya's disciples was Upamanyu. And Dhaumya appointed him saying, 'Go, my child, Upamanyu, look after the kine.' And according to his preceptor's orders, he went to tend the kine. And having watched them all day, he returned in the evening to his preceptor's house and standing before him he saluted him respectfully. And his preceptor seeing him in good condition of body asked him, 'Upamanyu, my child, upon what dost thou support thyself? Thou art exceedingly plump.' And he answered, 'Sir, I support myself by begging.' And his preceptor said, 'What is obtained in alms should not be used by thee without offering it to me.' And Upamanyu, thus told, went away. And having obtained alms, he offered the same to his preceptor. And his preceptor took from him even the whole. And Upamanyu, thus treated, went to attend the cattle. And having watched them all day, he returned in the evening to his preceptor's abode. And he stood before his preceptor and saluted him with respect. And his preceptor perceiving that he still continued to be of good condition of body said unto him, 'Upamanyu, my child, I take from thee even the whole of what thou obtainest in alms, without leaving anything for thee. How then dost thou, at present, contrive to support thyself?' And Upamanyu said unto his preceptor, 'Sir, having made over to you all that I obtain in alms, I go a-begging a second time for supporting myself.' And his preceptor then replied, 'This is not the way in which thou shouldst obey the preceptor. By this thou art diminishing the support of others that live by begging. Truly having supported thyself so, thou hast proved thyself covetous.' And Upamanyu, having signified his assent to all that his preceptor said, went away to attend the cattle. And having watched them all day, he returned to his preceptor's house. And he stood before his preceptor and saluted him respectfully. And his preceptor observing that he was still fat, said again unto him, 'Upamanyu, my child, I take from thee all thou obtainest in alms and thou dost not go a-begging a second time, and yet art thou in healthy condition. How dost thou support thyself?' And Upamanyu, thus questioned, answered, 'Sir, I now live upon the milk of these cows.' And his preceptor thereupon told him, 'It is not lawful for thee to appropriate the milk without having first obtained my consent.' And Upamanyu having assented to the justice of these observations, went away to tend the kine. And when he returned to his preceptor's abode, he stood before him and saluted him as usual. And his preceptor seeing that he was still fat, said, 'Upamanyu, my child, thou eatest no longer of alms, nor dost thou go a-begging a second time, not even drinkest of the milk; yet art thou fat. By what means dost thou contrive to live now?' And Upamanyu replied, 'Sir, I now sip the froth that these calves throw out, while sucking their mother's teats.' And the preceptor said, 'These generous calves, I suppose, out of compassion for thee, throw out large quantities of froth. Wouldst thou stand in the way of their full meals by acting as thou hast done? Know that it is unlawful for thee to drink the froth.' And Upamanyu, having signified his assent to this, went as before to tend the cows. And restrained by his preceptor, he feedeth not on alms, nor hath he anything else to eat; he drinketh not of the milk, nor tasteth he of the froth! "And Upamanyu, one day, oppressed by hunger, when in a forest, ate of the leaves of the Arka (Asclepias gigantea). And his eyes being affected by the pungent, acrimonious, crude, and saline properties of the leaves which he had eaten, he became blind. And as he was crawling about, he fell into a pit. And upon his not returning that day when the sun was sinking down behind the summit of the western mountains, the preceptor observed to his disciples that Upamanyu was not yet come. And they told him that he had gone out with the cattle. "The preceptor then said, 'Upamanyu being restrained by me from the use of everything, is, of course, tired, and therefore, doth not come home until it be late. Let us then go in search of him.' And having said this, he went with his disciples into the forest and began to shout, saying, 'Ho Upamanyu, where art thou?' And Upamanyu hearing his preceptor's voice answered in a loud tone, 'Here I am at the bottom of a well.' And his preceptor asked him how he happened to be there. And Upamanyu replied, 'Having eaten of the leaves of the Arka plant I became blind, and so have I fallen into this well.' And his preceptor thereupon told him, 'Glorify the twin Aswins, the joint physicians of the gods, and they will restore thee thy sight.' And Upamanyu thus directed by his preceptor began to glorify the twin Aswins, in the following words of the Rig Veda: "'Ye have existed before the creation! Ye first-born beings, ye are displayed in this wondrous universe of five elements! I desire to obtain you by the help of the knowledge derived from hearing, and of meditation, for ye are Infinite! Ye are the course itself of Nature and intelligent Soul that pervades that course! Ye are birds of beauteous feathers perched on the body that is like to a tree! Ye are without the three common attributes of every soul! Ye are incomparable! Ye, through your spirit in every created thing, pervade the Universe! "'Ye are golden Eagles! Ye are the essence into which all things disappear! Ye are free from error and know no deterioration! Ye are of beauteous beaks that would not unjustly strike and are victorious in every encounter! Ye certainly prevail over time! Having created the sun, ye weave the wondrous cloth of the year by means of the white thread of the day and the black thread of the night! And with the cloth so woven, ye have established two courses of action appertaining respectively to the Devas and the Pitris. The bird of Life seized by Time which represents the strength of the Infinite soul, ye set free for delivering her unto great happiness! They that are in deep ignorance, as long as they are under delusions of their senses, suppose you, who are independent of the attributes of matter, to be gifted with form! Three hundred and sixty cows represented by three hundred and sixty days produce one calf between them which is the year. That calf is the creator and destroyer of all. Seekers of truth following different routes, draw the milk of true knowledge with its help. Ye Aswins, ye are the creators of that calf! "'The year is but the nave of a wheel to which is attached seven hundred and twenty spokes representing as many days and nights. The circumference of this wheel represented by twelve months is without end. This wheel is full of delusions and knows no deterioration. It affects all creatures whether to this or of the other worlds. Ye Aswins, this wheel of time is set in motion by you! "'The wheel of Time as represented by the year has a nave represented by the six seasons. The number of spokes attached to that nave is twelve as represented by the twelve signs of the Zodiac. This wheel of Time manifests the fruits of the acts of all things. The presiding deities of Time abide in that wheel. Subject as I am to its distressful influence, ye Aswins, liberate me from that wheel of Time. Ye Aswins, ye are this universe of five elements! Ye are the objects that are enjoyed in this and in the other world! Make me independent of the five elements! And though ye are the Supreme Brahma, yet ye move over the Earth in forms enjoying the delights that the senses afford. "'In the beginning, ye created the ten points of the universe! Then have ye placed the Sun and the Sky above! The Rishis, according to the course of the same Sun, perform their sacrifices, and the gods and men, according to what hath been appointed for them, perform their sacrifices also enjoying the fruits of those acts! "'Mixing the three colours, ye have produced all the objects of sight! It is from these objects that the Universe hath sprung whereon the gods and men are engaged in their respective occupations, and, indeed, all creatures endued with life! "'Ye Aswins, I adore you! I also adore the Sky which is your handiwork! Ye are the ordainers of the fruits of all acts from which even the gods are not free! Ye are yourselves free from the fruits of your acts! "'Ye are the parents of all! As males and females it is ye that swallow the food which subsequently develops into the life creating fluid and blood! The new-born infant sucks the teat of its mother. Indeed it is ye that take the shape of the infant! Ye Aswins, grant me my sight to protect my life!' "The twin Aswins, thus invoked, appeared and said, 'We are satisfied. Here is a cake for thee. Take and eat it.' And Upamanyu thus addressed, replied, 'Your words, O Aswins, have never proved untrue. But without first offering this cake to my preceptor I dare not take it.' And the Aswins thereupon told him, 'Formerly, thy preceptor had invoked us. We thereupon gave him a cake like this; and he took it without offering it to his master. Do thou do that which thy preceptor did.' Thus addressed, Upamanyu again said unto them, 'O Aswins, I crave your pardon. Without offering it to my preceptor I dare not apply this cake.' The Aswins then said, 'O, we are pleased with this devotion of thine to thy preceptor. Thy master's teeth are of black iron. Thine shall be of gold. Thou shall be restored to sight and shall have good fortune.' "Thus spoken to by the Aswins he recovered his sight, and having gone to his preceptor's presence he saluted him and told him all. And his preceptor was well-pleased with him and said unto him, 'Thou shalt obtain prosperity even as the Aswins have said. All the Vedas shall shine in thee and all the Dharma-sastras.' And this was the trial of Upamanyu. "Then Veda the other disciple of Ayoda-Dhaumya was called. His preceptor once addressed him, saying, 'Veda, my child, tarry some time in my house and serve thy preceptor. It shall be to thy profit.' And Veda having signified his assent tarried long in the family of his preceptor mindful of serving him. Like an ox under the burthens of his master, he bore heat and cold, hunger and thirst, at all times without a murmur. And it was not long before his preceptor was satisfied. And as a consequence of that satisfaction, Veda obtained good fortune and universal knowledge. And this was the trial of Veda. "And Veda, having received permission from his preceptor, and leaving the latter's residence after the completion of his studies, entered the domestic mode of life. And while living in his own house, he got three pupils. And he never told them to perform any work or to obey implicitly his own behests; for having himself experienced much woe while abiding in the family of his preceptor, he liked not to treat them with severity. "After a certain time, Janamejaya and Paushya, both of the order of Kshatriyas, arriving at his residence appointed the Brahman, Veda, as their spiritual guide (Upadhyaya). And one day while about to depart upon some business related to a sacrifice, he employed one of his disciples, Utanka, to take charge of his household. 'Utanka', said he, 'whatsoever should have to be done in my house, let it be done by thee without neglect.' And having given these orders to Utanka, he went on his journey. "So Utanka always mindful of the injunction of his preceptor took up his abode in the latter's house. And while Utanka was residing there, the females of his preceptor's house having assembled addressed him and said, 'O Utanka, thy mistress is in that season when connubial connection might be fruitful. The preceptor is absent; then stand thou in his place and do the needful.' And Utanka, thus addressed, said unto those women, 'It is not proper for me to do this at the bidding of women. I have not been enjoined by my preceptor to do aught that is improper.' "After a while, his preceptor returned from his journey. And his preceptor having learnt all that had happened, became well-pleased and, addressing Utanka, said, 'Utanka, my child, what favour shall I bestow on thee? I have been served by thee duly; therefore hath our friendship for each other increased. I therefore grant thee leave to depart. Go thou, and let thy wishes be accomplished!' "Utanka, thus addressed, replied, saying, 'Let me do something that you wish, for it hath been said, "He who bestoweth instruction contrary to usage and he who receiveth it contrary to usage, one of the two dieth, and enmity springeth up between the two." I, therefore, who have received thy leave to depart, am desirous of bringing thee some honorarium due to a preceptor.' His master, upon hearing this, replied, 'Utanka, my child, wait a while.' Sometime after, Utanka again addressed his preceptor, saying, 'Command me to bring that for honorarium, which you desire.' And his preceptor then said, 'My dear Utanka, thou hast often told me of your desire to bring something by way of acknowledgment for the instruction thou hast received. Go then in and ask thy mistress what thou art to bring. And bring thou that which she directs.' And thus directed by his preceptor Utanka addressed his preceptress, saying, 'Madam, I have obtained my master's leave to go home, and I am desirous of bringing something agreeable to thee as honorarium for the instruction I have received, in order that I may not depart as his debtor. Therefore, please command me what I am to bring.' Thus addressed, his preceptress replied, 'Go unto King Paushya and beg of him the pair of ear-rings worn by his Queen, and bring them hither. The fourth day hence is a sacred day when I wish to appear before the Brahmanas (who may dine at my house) decked with these ear-rings. Then accomplish this, O Utanka! If thou shouldst succeed, good fortune shall attend thee; if not, what good canst thou expect?' "Utanka thus commanded, took his departure. And as he was passing along the road he saw a bull of extraordinary size and a man of uncommon stature mounted thereon. And that man addressed Utanka and said, 'Eat thou of the dung of this bull.' Utanka, however, was unwilling to comply. The man said again, 'O Utanka, eat of it without scrutiny. Thy master ate of it before.' And Utanka signified his assent and ate of the dung and drank of the urine of that bull, and rose respectfully, and washing his hands and mouth went to where King Paushya was. "On arriving at the palace, Utanka saw Paushya seated (on his throne). And approaching him Utanka saluted the monarch by pronouncing blessings and said, 'I am come as a petitioner to thee.' And King Paushya, having returned Utanka's salutations, said, 'Sir, what shall I do for thee?' And Utanka said, 'I came to beg of thee a pair of ear-rings as a present to my preceptor. It behoveth thee to give me the ear-rings worn by the Queen.' "King Paushya replied, 'Go, Utanka, into the female apartments where the Queen is and demand them of her.' And Utanka went into the women's apartments. But as he could not discover the Queen, he again addressed the king, saying, 'It is not proper that I should be treated by thee with deceit. Thy Queen is not in the private apartments, for I could not find her.' The king thus addressed, considered for a while and replied, 'Recollect, Sir, with attention whether thou art not in a state of defilement in consequence of contact with the impurities of a repast. My Queen is a chaste wife and cannot be seen by any one who is impure owing to contact with the leavings of a repast. Nor doth she herself appear in sight of any one who is defiled.' "Utanka, thus informed, reflected for a while and then said, 'Yes, it must be so. Having been in a hurry I performed my ablutions (after meal) in a standing posture.' King Paushya then said, 'Here is a transgression, purification is not properly effected by one in a standing posture, nor by one while he is going along.' And Utanka having agreed to this, sat down with his face towards the east, and washed his face, hands, and feet thoroughly. And he then, without a noise, sipped thrice of water free from scum and froth, and not warm, and just sufficient to reach his stomach and wiped his face twice. And he then touched with water the apertures of his organs (eyes, ears, etc.). And having done all this, he once more entered the apartments of the women. And this time he saw the Queen. And as the Queen perceived him, she saluted him respectfully and said, 'Welcome, Sir, command me what I have to do.' And Utanka said unto her, 'It behoveth thee to give me those ear-rings of thine. I beg them as a present for my preceptor.' And the Queen having been highly pleased with Utanka's conduct and, considering that Utanka as an object of charity could not be passed over, took off her ear-rings and gave them to him. And she said, 'These ear-rings are very much sought after by Takshaka, the King of the serpents. Therefore shouldst thou carry them with the greatest care.' "And Utanka being told this, said unto the Queen, 'Lady, be under no apprehension. Takshaka, Chief of the serpents, is not able to overtake me.' And having said this, and taking leave of the Queen, he went back into the presence of Paushya, and said, 'Paushya, I am gratified.' Then Paushya said to Utanka, 'A fit object of charity can only be had at long intervals. Thou art a qualified guest, therefore do I desire to perform a sraddha. Tarry thou a little.' And Utanka replied, 'Yes, I will tarry, and beg that the clean provisions that are ready may be soon brought in.' And the king having signified his assent, entertained Utanka duly. And Utanka seeing that the food placed before him had hair in it, and also that it was cold, thought it unclean. And he said unto Paushya, 'Thou givest me food that is unclean, therefore shalt thou lose thy sight.' And Paushya in answer said, 'And because dost thou impute uncleanliness to food that is clean, therefore shalt thou be without issue.' And Utanka thereupon rejoined, 'It behoveth thee not, after having offered me unclean food, to curse me in return. Satisfy thyself by ocular proof.' "And Paushya seeing the food alleged to be unclean satisfied himself of its uncleanliness. And Paushya having ascertained that the food was truly unclean, being cold and mixed with hair, prepared as it was by a woman with unbraided hair, began to pacify the Rishi Utanka, saying, 'Sir, the food placed before thee is cold, and doth contain hair, having been prepared without sufficient care. Therefore I pray thee pardon me. Let me not become blind.' And Utanka answered, 'What I say must come to pass. Having become blind, thou mayst, however, recover the sight before long. Grant that thy curse also doth not take effect on me.' And Paushya said unto him, 'I am unable to revoke my curse. For my wrath even now hath not been appeased. But thou knowest not this. For a Brahmana's heart is soft as new-churned butter, even though his words bear a sharp-edged razor. It is otherwise in respect of these with the Kshatriya. His words are soft as new-churned butter, but his heart is like a sharp-edged tool, such being the case, I am unable, because of the hardness of my heart, to neutralise my curse. Then go thou thy own way.' To this Utanka made answer, 'I showed thee the uncleanliness of the food offered to me, and I was even now pacified by thee. Besides, saidst thou at first that because I imputed uncleanliness to food that was clean I should be without issue. But the food truly unclean, thy curse cannot affect me. Of this I am sure.' And Utanka having said this departed with the ear-rings. "On the road Utanka perceived coming towards him a naked idle beggar sometimes coming in view and sometimes disappearing. And Utanka put the ear-rings on the ground and went for water. In the meantime the beggar came quickly to the spot and taking up the ear-rings ran away. And Utanka having completed his ablutions in water and purified himself and having also reverently bowed down to the gods and his spiritual masters pursued the thief with the utmost speed. And having with great difficulty overtaken him, he seized him by force. But at that instant the person seized, quitting the form of a beggar and assuming his real form, viz., that of Takshaka, speedily entered a large hole open in the ground. And having got in, Takshaka proceeded to his own abode, the region of the serpents. "Now, Utanka, recollecting the words of the Queen, pursued the Serpent, and began to dig open the hole with a stick but was unable to make much progress. And Indra beholding his distress sent his thunder-bolt (Vajra) to his assistance. Then the thunder-bolt entering that stick enlarged that hole. And Utanka began to enter the hole after the thunder-bolt. And having entered it, he beheld the region of the serpents infinite in extent, filled with hundreds of palaces and elegant mansions with turrets and domes and gate-ways, abounding with wonderful places for various games and entertainments. And Utanka then glorified the serpents by the following slokas: "'Ye Serpents, subjects of King Airavata, splendid in battle and showering weapons in the field like lightning-charged clouds driven by the winds! Handsome and of various forms and decked with many coloured ear-rings, ye children of Airavata, ye shine like the Sun in the firmament! On the northern banks of the Ganges are many habitations of serpents. There I constantly adore the great serpents. Who except Airavata would desire to move in the burning rays of the Sun? When Dhritarashtra (Airavata's brother) goes out, twenty-eight thousand and eight serpents follow him as his attendants. Ye who move near him and ye who stay at a distance from him, I adore all of you that have Airavata for your elder brother. "'I adore thee also, to obtain the ear-rings, O Takshaka, who formerly dwelt in Kurukshetra and the forest of Khandava! Takshaka and Aswasena, ye are constant companions who dwell in Kurukshetra on the banks of the Ikshumati! I also adore the illustrious Srutasena, the younger brother of Takshaka, who resided at the holy place called Mahadyumna with a view to obtaining the chiefship of the serpents.' "The Brahmana Rishi Utanka having saluted the chief serpents in this manner, obtained not, however, the ear-rings. And he thereupon became very thoughtful. And when he saw that he obtained not the ear-rings even though he had adored the serpents, he then looked about him and beheld two women at a loom weaving a piece of cloth with a fine shuttle; and in the loom were black and white threads. And he likewise saw a wheel, with twelve spokes, turned by six boys. And he also saw a man with a handsome horse. And he began to address them the following mantras: "'This wheel whose circumference is marked by twenty-four divisions representing as many lunar changes is furnished with three hundred spokes! It is set in continual motion by six boys (the seasons)! These damsels representing universal nature are weaving without intermission a cloth with threads black and white, and thereby ushering into existence the manifold worlds and the beings that inhabit them! Thou wielder of the thunder, the protector of the universe, the slayer of Vritra and Namuchi, thou illustrious one who wearest the black cloth and displayest truth and untruth in the universe, thou who ownest for thy carrier the horse which was received from the depths of the ocean, and which is but another form of Agni (the god of fire), I bow to thee, thou supreme Lord, thou Lord of the three worlds, O Purandara!' "Then the man with the horse said unto Utanka, 'I am gratified by this thy adoration. What good shall I do to thee?' And Utanka replied, 'Even let the serpents be brought under my control.' Then the man rejoined, 'Blow into this horse.' And Utanka blew into that horse. And from the horse thus blown into, there issued, from every aperture of his body, flames of fire with smoke by which the region of the Nagas was about to be consumed. And Takshaka, surprised beyond measure and terrified by the heat of the fire, hastily came out of his abode taking the ear-rings with him, and said unto Utanka, 'Pray, Sir, take back the ear-rings.' And Utanka took them back. "But Utanka having recovered his ear-rings thought, 'O, this is that sacred day of my preceptress. I am at a distance. How can I, therefore, show my regard for her?' And when Utanka was anxious about this, the man addressed him and said, 'Ride this horse, Utanka, and he will in a moment carry thee to thy master's abode.' And Utanka having signified his assent, mounted the horse and presently reached his preceptor's house. "And his preceptress that morning after having bathed was dressing her hair sitting, thinking of uttering a curse on Utanka if he should not return within time. But, in the meantime, Utanka entered his preceptor's abode and paid his respects to his preceptress and presented her the ear- rings. 'Utanka', said she, 'thou hast arrived at the proper time at the proper place. Welcome, my child; thou art innocent and therefore I do not curse thee! Good fortune is even before thee. Let thy wishes be crowned with success!' "Then Utanka waited on his preceptor. And his preceptor said, 'Thou art welcome! What hath occasioned thy long absence?' And Utanka replied to his preceptor, 'Sir, in the execution of this my business obstruction was offered by Takshaka, the King of serpents. Therefore I had to go to the region of the Nagas. There I saw two damsels sitting at a loom, weaving a fabric with black and white threads. Pray, what is that? There likewise I beheld a wheel with twelve spokes ceaselessly turned by six boys. What too doth that import? Who is also the man that I saw? And what the horse of extraordinary size likewise beheld by me? And when I was on the road I also saw a bull with a man mounted thereon, by whom I was endearingly accosted thus, "Utanka, eat of the dung of this bull, which was also eaten by thy master?" So I ate of the dung of that bull according to his words. Who also is he? Therefore, enlightened by thee, I desire to hear all about them.' "And his preceptor thus addressed said unto him, 'The two damsels thou hast seen are Dhata and Vidhata; the black and white threads denote night and day; the wheel of twelve spokes turned by the six boys signified the year comprising six seasons. The man is Parjanya, the deity of rain, and the horse is Agni, the god of fire. The bull that thou hast seen on the road is Airavata, the king of elephants; the man mounted thereon is Indra; and the dung of the bull which was eaten by thee was Amrita. It was certainly for this (last) that thou hast not met with death in the region of the Nagas; and Indra who is my friend having been mercifully inclined showed thee favour. It is for this that thou returnest safe, with the ear- rings about thee. Then, O thou amiable one, I give thee leave to depart. Thou shall obtain good fortune.' "And Utanka, having obtained his master's leave, moved by anger and resolved to avenge himself on Takshaka, proceeded towards Hastinapura. That excellent Brahmana soon reached Hastinapura. And Utanka then waited upon King Janamejaya who had some time before returned victorious from Takshashila. And Utanka saw the victorious monarch surrounded on all sides by his ministers. And he pronounced benedictions on him in a proper form. And Utanka addressed the monarch at the proper moment in speech of correct accent and melodious sounds, saying, 'O thou the best of monarchs! How is it that thou spendest thy time like a child when there is another matter that urgently demandeth thy attention?'" Sauti said, "The monarch Janamejaya, thus addressed, saluting that excellent Brahmana replied unto him, 'In cherishing these my subjects I do discharge the duties of my noble tribe. Say, what is that business to be done by me and which hath brought thee hither.' "The foremost of Brahmanas and distinguished beyond all for good deeds, thus addressed by the excellent monarch of large heart, replied unto him, 'O King! the business is thy own that demandeth thy attention; therefore do it, please. O thou King of kings! Thy father was deprived of life by Takshaka; therefore do thou avenge thy father's death on that vile serpent. The time hath come, I think, for the act of vengeance ordained by the Fates. Go then avenge the death of thy magnanimous father who, being bitten without cause by that vile serpent, was reduced to five elements even like a tree stricken by thunder. The wicked Takshaka, vilest of the serpent race, intoxicated with power committed an unnecessary act when he bit the King, that god-like father, the protector of the race of royal saints. Wicked in his deeds, he even caused Kasyapa (the prince of physicians) to run back when he was coming for the relief of thy father. It behoveth thee to burn the wicked wretch in the blazing fire of a snake- sacrifice. O King! Give instant orders for the sacrifice. It is thus thou canst avenge the death of thy father. And a very great favour shall have also been shown to me. For by that malignant wretch, O virtuous Prince, my business also was, on one occasion, obstructed, while proceeding on account of my preceptor.'" Sauti continued, "The monarch, having heard these words, was enraged with Takshaka. By the speech of Utanka was inflamed the prince, even as the sacrificial fire with clarified butter. Moved by grief also, in the presence of Utanka, the prince asked his ministers the particulars of his father's journey to the regions of the blessed. And when he heard all about the circumstances of his father's death from the lips of Utanka, he was overcome with pain and sorrow." And thus endeth the section called Paushya of the Adi Parva of the blessed Mahabharata. SECTION IV (Pauloma Parva) Ugrasrava Sauti, the son of Lomaharshana, versed in the Puranas, while present in the forest of Naimisha, at the twelve years' sacrifice of Saunaka, surnamed Kulapati, stood before the Rishis in attendance. Having studied Puranas with meticulous devotion and thus being thoroughly acquainted with them, he addressed them with joined hands thus, "I have graphically described to you the history of Utanka which is one of the causes of King Janamejaya's Snake-sacrifice. What, revered Sirs, do ye wish to hear now? What shall I relate to you?" The holy men replied, "O son of Lomaharshana, we shall ask thee about what we are anxious to hear and thou wilt recount the tales one by one. Saunaka, our revered master, is at present attending the apartment of the holy fire. He is acquainted with those divine stories which relate to the gods and asuras. He adequately knoweth the histories of men, serpents, and Gandharvas. Further, O Sauti, in this sacrifice that learned Brahmana is the chief. He is able, faithful to his vows, wise, a master of the Sastras and the Aranyaka, a speaker of truth, a lover of peace, a mortifier of the flesh, and an observer of the penances according to the authoritative decrees. He is respected by us all. It behoveth us therefore to wait for him. And when he is seated on his highly respected seat, thou wilt answer what that best of Dwijas shall ask of thee." Sauti said, "Be it so. And when the high-souled master hath been seated I shall narrate, questioned by him, sacred stories on a variety of subjects." After a while that excellent Brahmana (Saunaka) having duly finished all his duties, and having propitiated the gods with prayers and the manes with oblations of water, came back to the place of sacrifice, where with Sauti seated before was the assembly of saints of rigid vows sitting at ease. And when Saunaka was seated in the midst of the Ritwiks and Sadhyas, who were also in their seats, he spake as followeth. SECTION V (Pauloma Parva continued) Saunaka said, "Child, thy father formerly read the whole of the Puranas, O son of Lomaharshana, and the Bharata with Krishna-Dwaipayana. Hast thou also made them thy study? In those ancient records are chronicled interesting stories and the history of the first generations of the wise men, all of which we heard being rehearsed by thy sire. In the first place, I am desirous of hearing the history of the race of Bhrigu. Recount thou that history, we shall attentively listen to thee." Sauti answered, "By me hath been acquired all that was formerly studied by the high-souled Brahmanas including Vaisampayana and repeated by them; by me hath been acquired all that had been studied by my father. O descendant of the Bhrigu race, attend then to so much as relateth to the exalted race of Bhrigu, revered by Indra and all the gods, by the tribes of Rishis and Maruts (Winds). O great Muni, I shall first properly recount the story of this family, as told in the Puranas. "The great and blessed saint Bhrigu, we are informed, was produced by the self-existing Brahma from the fire at the sacrifice of Varuna. And Bhrigu had a son, named Chyavana, whom he dearly loved. And to Chyavana was born a virtuous son called Pramati. And Pramati had a son named Ruru by Ghritachi (the celestial dancer). And to Ruru also by his wife Pramadvara, was born a son, whose name was Sunaka. He was, O Saunaka, thy great ancestor exceedingly virtuous in his ways. He was devoted to asceticism, of great reputation, proficient in law, and eminent among those having a knowledge of the Vedas. He was virtuous, truthful, and of well-regulated fare." Saunaka said, "O son of Suta, I ask thee why the illustrious son of Bhrigu was named Chyavana. Do tell me all." Sauti replied, "Bhrigu had a wife named Puloma whom he dearly loved. She became big with child by Bhrigu. And one day while the virtuous continent Puloma was in that condition, Bhrigu, great among those that are true to their religion, leaving her at home went out to perform his ablutions. It was then that the Rakshasa called Puloma came to Bhrigu's abode. And entering the Rishi's abode, the Rakshasa saw the wife of Bhrigu, irreproachable in everything. And seeing her he became filled with lust and lost his senses. The beautiful Puloma entertained the Rakshasa thus arrived, with roots and fruits of the forest. And the Rakshasa who burnt with desire upon seeing her, became very much delighted and resolved, O good sage, to carry her away who was so blameless in every respect. "'My design is accomplished,' said the Rakshasa, and so seizing that beautiful matron he carried her away. And, indeed, she of agreeable smiles, had been betrothed by her father himself, to him, although the former subsequently bestowed her, according to due rites, on Bhrigu. O thou of the Bhrigu race, this wound rankled deep in the Rakshasa's mind and he thought the present moment very opportune for carrying the lady away. "And the Rakshasa saw the apartment in which the sacrificial fire was kept burning brightly. The Rakshasa then asked the flaming element 'Tell me, O Agni, whose wife this woman rightfully is. Thou art the mouth of gods; therefore thou art bound to answer my question. This lady of superior complexion had been first accepted by me as wife, but her father subsequently bestowed her on the false Bhrigu. Tell me truly if this fair one can be regarded as the wife of Bhrigu, for having found her alone, I have resolved to take her away by force from the hermitage. My heart burneth with rage when I reflect that Bhrigu hath got possession of this woman of slender waist, first betrothed to me.'" Sauti continued, "In this manner the Rakshasa asked the flaming god of fire again and again whether the lady was Bhrigu's wife. And the god was afraid to return an answer. 'Thou, O god of fire,' said he, 'residest constantly within every creature, as witness of her or his merits and demerits. O thou respected one, then answer my question truly. Has not Bhrigu appropriated her who was chosen by me as my wife? Thou shouldst declare truly whether, therefore, she is my wife by first choice. After thy answer as to whether she is the wife of Bhrigu, I will bear her away from this hermitage even in sight of thee. Therefore answer thou truly.'" Sauti continued, "The Seven flamed god having heard these words of the Rakshasa became exceedingly distressed, being afraid of telling a falsehood and equally afraid of Bhrigu's curse. And the god at length made answer in words that came out slowly. 'This Puloma was, indeed, first chosen by thee, O Rakshasa, but she was not taken by thee with holy rites and invocations. But this far-famed lady was bestowed by her father on Bhrigu as a gift from desire of blessing. She was not bestowed on thee O Rakshasa, this lady was duly made by the Rishi Bhrigu his wife with Vedic rites in my presence. This is she--I know her. I dare not speak a falsehood. O thou best of the Rakshasas, falsehood is never respected in this world.'" SECTION VI (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti said, "O Brahmana, having heard these words from the god of fire, the Rakshasa assumed the form of a boar, and seizing the lady carried her away with the speed of the wind--even of thought. Then the child of Bhrigu lying in her body enraged at such violence, dropped from his mother's womb, for which he obtained the name of Chyavana. And the Rakshasa perceiving the infant drop from the mother's womb, shining like the sun, quitted his grasp of the woman, fell down and was instantly converted into ashes. And the beautiful Pauloma, distracted with grief, O Brahmana of the Bhrigu race, took up her offspring Chyavana, the son of Bhrigu and walked away. And Brahma, the Grandfather of all, himself saw her, the faultless wife of his son, weeping. And the Grandfather of all comforted her who was attached to her son. And the drops of tears which rolled down her eyes formed a great river. And that river began to follow the foot-steps of the wife of the great ascetic Bhrigu. And the Grandfather of the worlds seeing that river follow the path of his son's wife gave it a name himself, and he called it Vadhusara. And it passeth by the hermitage of Chyavana. And in this manner was born Chyavana of great ascetic power, the son of Bhrigu. "And Bhrigu saw his child Chyavana and its beautiful mother. And the Rishi in a rage asked her, 'By whom wast thou made known to that Rakshasa who resolved to carry thee away? O thou of agreeable smiles, the Rakshasa could not know thee as my wife. Therefore tell me who it was that told the Rakshasa so, in order that I may curse him through anger.' And Pauloma replied, 'O possessor of the six attributes! I was identified to the Rakshasa by Agni (the god of fire). And he (the Rakshasa) bore me away, who cried like the Kurari (female osprey). And it was only by the ardent splendour of this thy son that I was rescued, for the Rakshasa (seeing this infant) let me go and himself falling to the ground was turned into ashes.'" Sauti continued, "Bhrigu, upon hearing this account from Pauloma, became exceedingly enraged. And in excess of passion the Rishi cursed Agni, saying, 'Thou shalt eat of all things.'" So ends the sixth section called "the curse on Agni" in the Adi Parva. SECTION VII (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti said, "the god of fire enraged at the curse of Bhrigu, thus addressed the Rishi, 'What meaneth this rashness, O Brahmana, that thou hast displayed towards me? What transgression can be imputed to me who was labouring to do justice and speak the truth impartially? Being asked I gave the true answer. A witness who when interrogated about a fact of which he hath knowledge, representeth otherwise than it is, ruineth his ancestors and descendants both to the seventh generation. He, too, who, being fully cognisant of all the particulars of an affair, doth not disclose what he knoweth, when asked, is undoubtedly stained with guilt. I can also curse thee, but Brahmanas are held by me in high respect. Although these are known to thee, O Brahmana, I will yet speak of them, so please attend! Having, by ascetic power, multiplied myself, I am present in various forms, in places of the daily homa, at sacrifices extending for years, in places where holy rites are performed (such as marriage, etc.), and at other sacrifices. With the butter that is poured upon my flame according to the injunctions prescribed in the Vedas, the Devas and the Pitris are appeased. The Devas are the waters; the Pitris are also the waters. The Devas have with the Pitris an equal right to the sacrifices called Darshas and Purnamasas. The Devas therefore are the Pitris and the Pitris, the Devas. They are identical beings, worshipped together and also separately at the changes of the moon. The Devas and the Pitris eat what is poured upon me. I am therefore called the mouth of the Devas and the Pitris. At the new moon the Pitris, and at the full moon the Devas, are fed through my mouth, eating of the clarified butter that is poured on me. Being, as I am, their mouth, how am I to be an eater of all things (clean and unclean)?' "Then Agni, after reflecting for a while, withdrew himself from all places; from places of the daily homa of the Brahmanas, from all long-extending sacrifices, from places of holy rites, and from other ceremonies. Without their Oms and Vashats, and deprived of their Swadhas and Swahas (sacrificial mantras during offerings), the whole body of creatures became much distressed at the loss of their (sacrificial) fire. The Rishis in great anxiety went to the gods and addressed them thus, 'Ye immaculate beings! The three regions of the universe are confounded at the cessation of their sacrifices and ceremonies in consequence of the loss of fire! Ordain what is to be done in this matter, so that there may be no loss of time.' Then the Rishis and the gods went together to the presence of Brahma. And they represented to him all about the curse on Agni and the consequent interruption of all ceremonies. And they said, 'O thou greatly fortunate! Once Agni hath been cursed by Bhrigu for some reason. Indeed, being the mouth of the gods and also the first who eateth of what is offered in sacrifices, the eater also of the sacrificial butter, how will Agni be reduced to the condition of one who eateth of all things promiscuously?' And the creator of the universe hearing these words of theirs summoned Agni to his presence. And Brahma addressed Agni, the creator of all and eternal as himself, in these gentle words, 'Thou art the creator of the worlds and thou art their destroyer! Thou preserves the three worlds and thou art the promoter of all sacrifices and ceremonies! Therefore behave thyself so that ceremonies be not interrupted. And, O thou eater of the sacrificial butter, why dost thou act so foolishly, being, as thou art, the Lord of all? Thou alone art always pure in the universe and thou art its stay! Thou shall not, with all thy body, be reduced to the state of one who eateth of all things promiscuously. O thou of flames, the flame that is in thy viler parts shall alone eat of all things alike. The body of thine which eateth of flesh (being in the stomach of all carnivorous animals) shall also eat of all things promiscuously. And as every thing touched by the sun's rays becometh pure, so shall everything be pure that shall be burnt by thy flames. Thou art, O fire, the supreme energy born of thy own power. Then, O Lord, by that power of thine make the Rishi's curse come true. Continue to receive thy own portion and that of the gods, offered at thy mouth.'" Sauti continued, "Then Agni replied to the Grandfather, 'So be it.' And he then went away to obey the command of the supreme Lord. The gods and the Rishis also returned in delight to the place whence they had come. And the Rishis began to perform as before their ceremonies and sacrifices. And the gods in heaven and all creatures of the world rejoiced exceedingly. And Agni too rejoiced in that he was free from the prospect of sin. "Thus, O possessor of the six attributes, had Agni been cursed in the days of yore by Bhrigu. And such is the ancient history connected with the destruction of the Rakshasa, Pauloma and the birth of Chyavana." Thus endeth the seventh section of the Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva of the blessed Mahabharata. SECTION VIII (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti said, "O Brahmana, Chyavana, the son of Bhrigu, begot a son in the womb of his wife Sukanya. And that son was the illustrious Pramati of resplendent energy. And Pramati begot in the womb of Ghritachi a son called Ruru. And Ruru begot on his wife Pramadvara a son called Sunaka. And I shall relate to you in detail, O Brahmana, the entire history of Ruru of abundant energy. O listen to it then in full! "Formerly there was a great Rishi called Sthulakesa possessed of ascetic power and learning and kindly disposed towards all creatures. At that time, O Brahmana sage, Viswavasu, the King of the Gandharvas, it is said, had intimacy with Menaka, the celestial dancing-girl. And the Apsara, Menaka, O thou of the Bhrigu race, when her time was come, brought forth an infant near the hermitage of Sthulakesa. And dropping the newborn infant on the banks of the river, O Brahmana, Menaka, the Apsara, being destitute of pity and shame, went away. And the Rishi, Sthulakesa, of great ascetic power, discovered the infant lying forsaken in a lonely part of the river- side. And he perceived that it was a female child, bright as the offspring of an Immortal and blazing, as it were, with beauty: And the great Brahmana, Sthulakesa, the first of Munis, seeing that female child, and filled with compassion, took it up and reared it. And the lovely child grew up in his holy habitation, the noble-minded and blessed Rishi Sthulakesa performing in due succession all the ceremonies beginning with that at birth as ordained by the divine law. And because she surpassed all of her sex in goodness, beauty, and every quality, the great Rishi called her by the name of Pramadvara. And the pious Ruru having seen Pramadvara in the hermitage of Sthulakesa became one whose heart was pierced by the god of love. And Ruru by means of his companions made his father Pramati, the son of Bhrigu, acquainted with his passion. And Pramati demanded her of the far-famed Sthulakesa for his son. And her foster-father betrothed the virgin Pramadvara to Ruru, fixing the nuptials for the day when the star Varga-Daivata (Purva-phalguni) would be ascendant. "Then within a few days of the time fixed for the nuptials, the beautiful virgin while at play with companions of her own sex, her time having come, impelled by fate, trod upon a serpent which she did not perceive as it lay in coil. And the reptile, urged to execute the will of Fate, violently darted its envenomed fangs into the body of the heedless maiden. And stung by that serpent, she instantly dropped senseless on the ground, her colour faded and all the graces of her person went off. And with dishevelled hair she became a spectacle of woe to her companions and friends. And she who was so agreeable to behold became on her death what was too painful to look at. And the girl of slender waist lying on the ground like one asleep--being overcome with the poison of the snake--once more became more beautiful than in life. And her foster-father and the other holy ascetics who were there, all saw her lying motionless upon the ground with the splendour of a lotus. And then there came many noted Brahmanas filled with compassion, and they sat around her. And Swastyatreya, Mahajana, Kushika, Sankhamekhala, Uddalaka, Katha, and Sweta of great renown, Bharadwaja, Kaunakutsya, Arshtishena, Gautama, Pramati, and Pramati's son Ruru, and other inhabitants of the forest, came there. And when they saw that maiden lying dead on the ground overcome with the poison of the reptile that had bitten her, they all wept filled with compassion. But Ruru, mortified beyond measure, retired from the scene." So ends the eighth section of the Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva of the blessed Mahabharata. SECTION IX (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti said, "While those illustrious Brahmanas were sitting around the dead body of Pramadvara, Ruru, sorely afflicted, retired into a deep wood and wept aloud. And overwhelmed with grief he indulged in much piteous lamentation. And, remembering his beloved Pramadvara, he gave vent to his sorrow in the following words, 'Alas! The delicate fair one that increaseth my affliction lieth upon the bare ground. What can be more deplorable to us, her friends? If I have been charitable, if I have performed acts of penance, if I have ever revered my superiors, let the merit of these arts restore to life my beloved one! If from my birth I have been controlling my passions, adhered to my vows, let the fair Pramadvara rise from the ground.' "And while Ruru was indulging in these lamentations for the loss of his bride, a messenger from heaven came to him in the forest and addressed him thus, 'The words thou utterest, O Ruru, in thy affliction are certainly ineffectual. For, O pious man, one belonging to this world whose days have run out can never come back to life. This poor child of a Gandharva and Apsara has had her days run out! Therefore, O child, thou shouldst not consign thy heart to sorrow. The great gods, however, have provided beforehand a means of her restoration to life. And if thou compliest with it, thou mayest receive back thy Pramadvara.' "And Ruru replied, 'O messenger of heaven! What is that which the gods have ordained. Tell me in full so that (on hearing) I may comply with it. It behoveth thee to deliver me from grief!' And the celestial messenger said unto Ruru, 'Resign half of thy own life to thy bride, and then, O Ruru of the race of Bhrigu, thy Pramadvara shall rise from the ground.' 'O best of celestial messengers, I most willingly offer a moiety of my own life in favour of my bride. Then let my beloved one rise up once more in her dress and lovable form.'" Sauti said, "Then the king of Gandharvas (the father of Pramadvara) and the celestial messenger, both of excellent qualities, went to the god Dharma (the Judge of the dead) and addressed him, saying, 'If it be thy will, O Dharmaraja, let the amiable Pramadvara, the betrothed wife of Ruru, now lying dead, rise up with a moiety of Ruru's life.' And Dharmaraja answered, 'O messenger of the gods, if it be thy wish, let Pramadvara, the betrothed wife of Ruru, rise up endued with a moiety of Ruru's life.'" Sauti continued, "And when Dharmaraja had said so, that maiden of superior complexion, Pramadvara, endued with a moiety of Ruru's life, rose as from her slumber. This bestowal by Ruru of a moiety of his own span of life to resuscitate his bride afterwards led, as it would be seen, to a curtailment of Ruru's life. "And on an auspicious day their fathers gladly married them with due rites. And the couple passed their days, devoted to each other. And Ruru having obtained such a wife, as is hard to be found, beautiful and bright as the filaments of the lotus, made a vow for the destruction of the serpent-race. And whenever he saw a serpent he became filled with great wrath and always killed it with a weapon. "One day, O Brahmana, Ruru entered an extensive forest. And there he saw an old serpent of the Dundubha species lying stretched on the ground. And Ruru thereupon lifted up in anger his staff, even like to the staff of Death, for the purpose of killing it. Then the Dundubha, addressing Ruru, said, 'I have done thee no harm, O Brahmana! Then wherefore wilt thou slay me in anger?'" So ends the ninth section of the Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva of the blessed Mahabharata. SECTION X (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti said, "And Ruru, on hearing those words, replied, 'My wife, dear to me as life, was bit by a snake; upon which, I took, O snake, a dreadful vow, viz., that I would kill every snake that I might come across. Therefore shall I smite thee and thou shalt be deprived of life.' "And the Dundubha replied, 'O Brahmana, the snakes that bite man are quite different in type. It behoveth thee not to slay Dundubhas who are serpents only in name. Subject like other serpents to the same calamities but not sharing their good fortune, in woe the same but in joy different, the Dundubhas should not be slain by thee under any misconception.'" Sauti continued, "And the Rishi Ruru hearing these words of the serpent, and seeing that it was bewildered with fear, albeit a snake of the Dundubha species, killed it not. And Ruru, the possessor of the six attributes, comforting the snake addressed it, saying, 'Tell me fully, O snake, who art thou thus metamorphosed?' And the Dundubha replied, 'O Ruru! I was formerly a Rishi by name Sahasrapat. And it is by the curse of a Brahmana that I have been transformed into a snake.' And Ruru asked, 'O thou best of snakes, for what wast thou cursed by a Brahmana in wrath? And how long also will thy form continue so?'" And so ends the tenth section of the Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XI (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti continued "The Dundubha then said, 'In former times, I had a friend Khagama by name. He was impetuous in his speech and possessed of spiritual power by virtue of his austerities. And one day when he was engaged in the Agni-hotra (Fire-sacrifice), I made a mock snake of blades of grass, and in a frolic attempted to frighten him with it. And anon he fell into a swoon. On recovering his senses, that truth-telling and vow-observing ascetic, burning with wrath, exclaimed, "Since thou hast made a powerless mock snake to frighten me, thou shalt be turned even into a venomless serpent thyself by my curse." O ascetic, I well knew the power of his penances; therefore with an agitated heart, I addressed him thus, bending low with joined hands, "Friend, I did this by way of a joke, to excite thy laughter. It behoveth thee to forgive me and revoke thy curse." And seeing me sorely troubled, the ascetic was moved, and he replied, breathing hot and hard. "What I have said must come to pass. Listen to what I say and lay it to thy heart. O pious one! when Ruru the pure son of Pramati, will appear, thou shall be delivered from the curse the moment thou seest him." Thou art the very Ruru and the son of Pramati. On regaining my native form, I will tell thee something for thy good.' "And that illustrious man and the best of Brahmanas then left his snake- body, and attained his own form and original brightness. He then addressed the following words to Ruru of incomparable power, 'O thou first of created beings, verily the highest virtue of man is sparing the life of others. Therefore a Brahmana should never take the life of any creature. A Brahmana should ever be mild. This is the most sacred injunction of the Vedas. A Brahmana should be versed in the Vedas and Vedangas, and should inspire all creatures with belief in God. He should be benevolent to all creatures, truthful, and forgiving, even as it is his paramount duty to retain the Vedas in his memory. The duties of the Kshatriya are not thine. To be stern, to wield the sceptre and to rule the subjects properly are the duties of the Kshatriya. Listen, O Ruru, to the account of the destruction of snakes at the sacrifice of Janamejaya in days of yore, and the deliverance of the terrified reptiles by that best of Dwijas, Astika, profound in Vedic lore and might in spiritual energy.'" And so ends the eleventh section of the Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XII (Pauloma Parva continued) Sauti continued, "Ruru then asked, 'O best of Dwijas, why was king Janamejaya bent upon destroying the serpents?--And why and how were they saved by the wise Astika? I am anxious to hear all this in detail.' "The Rishi replied, 'O Ruru, the important history of Astika you will learn from the lips of Brahmanas.' Saying this, he vanished." Sauti continued, "Ruru ran about in search of the missing Rishi, and having failed to find him in all the woods, fell down on the ground, fatigued. And revolving in his mind the words of the Rishi, he was greatly confounded and seemed to be deprived of his senses. Regaining consciousness, he came home and asked his father to relate the history in question. Thus asked, his father related all about the story." So ends the twelfth section in the Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XIII (Astika Parva) Saunaka said, "For what reason did that tiger among kings, the royal Janamejaya, determine to take the lives of the snakes by means of a sacrifice? O Sauti, tell us in full the true story. Tell us also why Astika, that best of regenerate ones, that foremost of ascetics, rescued the snakes from the blazing fire. Whose son was that monarch who celebrated the snake-sacrifice? And whose son also was that best of regenerate ones?" Sauti said, "O best of speakers, this story of Astika is long. I will duly relate it in full, O listen!" Saunaka said, "I am desirous of hearing at length the charming story of that Rishi, that illustrious Brahmana named Astika." Sauti said, "This history (first) recited by Krishna-Dwaipayana, is called a Purana by the Brahmanas. It was formerly narrated by my wise father, Lomaharshana, the disciple of Vyasa, before the dwellers of the Naimisha forest, at their request. I was present at the recital, and, O Saunaka, since thou askest me, I shall narrate the history of Astika exactly as I heard it. O listen, as I recite in full that sin-destroying story. "The father of Astika was powerful like Prajapati. He was a Brahmacharin, always engaged in austere devotions. He ate sparingly, was a great ascetic, and had his lust under complete control. And he was known by the name of Jaratkaru. That foremost one among the Yayavaras, virtuous and of rigid vows, highly blessed and endued with great ascetic power, once undertook a journey over the world. He visited diverse places, bathed in diverse sacred waters, and rested where night overtook him. Endued with great energy, he practised religious austerities, hard to be practised by men of unrestrained souls. The sage lived upon air only, and renounced sleep for ever. Thus going about like a blazing fire, one day he happened to see his ancestors, hanging heads down in a great hole, their feet pointing upwards. On seeing them, Jaratkaru addressed them, saying: "'Who are you thus hanging heads down in this hole by a rope of virana fibres that is again secretly eaten into on all sides by a rat living here?' "The ancestors said, 'We are Rishis of rigid vows, called Yayavaras. We are sinking low into the earth for want of offspring. We have a son named Jaratkaru. Woe to us! That wretch hath entered upon a life of austerities only! The fool doth not think of raising offspring by marriage! It is for that reason, viz., the fear of extinction of our race, that we are suspended in this hole. Possessed of means, we fare like unfortunates that have none! O excellent one, who art thou that thus sorrowest as a friend on our account? We desire to learn, O Brahmana, who thou art that standest by us, and why, O best of men, thou sorrowest for us that are so unfortunate.' "Jaratkaru said, 'Ye are even my sires and grandsires; I am that Jaratkaru! O, tell me, how I may serve you.' "The fathers then answered, 'Try thy best, O child, to beget a son to extend our line. Thou wilt then, O excellent one, have done a meritorious act for both thyself and us. Not by the fruits of virtue, not by ascetic penances well hoarded up, acquireth the merit which one doth by becoming a father. Therefore, O child, by our command, set thy heart upon marriage and offspring. Even this is our highest good.' "Jaratkaru replied, 'I shall not marry for my sake, nor shall I earn wealth for enjoyment, but I shall do so for your welfare only. According to this understanding, I shall, agreeably to the Sastric ordinance, take a wife for attaining the end. I shall not act otherwise. If a bride may be had of the same name with me, whose friends would, besides, willingly give her to me as a gift in charity, I shall wed her duly. But who will give his daughter to a poor man like me for wife. I shall, however, accept any daughter given to me as alms. I shall endeavour, ye sires, even thus to wed a girl! Having given my word, I will not act otherwise. Upon her I will raise offspring for your redemption, so that, ye fathers, ye may attain to eternal regions (of bliss) and may rejoice as ye like.'" So ends the thirteenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XIV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "That Brahmana of rigid vows then wandered over the earth for a wife but a wife found he not. One day he went into the forest, and recollecting the words of his ancestors, he thrice prayed in a faint voice for a bride. Thereupon Vasuki rose and offered his sister for the Rishi's acceptance. But the Brahmana hesitated to accept her, thinking her not to be of the same name with himself. The high-souled Jaratkaru thought within himself, 'I will take none for wife who is not of the same name with myself.' Then that Rishi of great wisdom and austere penances asked him, saying, 'Tell me truly what is the name of this thy sister, O snake.' "Vasuki replied, 'O Jaratkaru, this my younger sister is called Jaratkaru. Given away by me, accept this slender-waisted damsel for thy spouse. O best of Brahmanas, for thee I reserved her. Therefore, take her.' Saying this, he offered his beautiful sister to Jaratkaru who then espoused her with ordained rites." So ends the thirteenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "O foremost of persons acquainted with Brahma, the mother of the snakes had cursed them of old, saying, 'He that hath the Wind for his charioteer (viz., Agni) shall burn you all in Janamejaya's sacrifice!' It was to neutralise that curse that the chief of the snakes married his sister to that high-souled Rishi of excellent vows. The Rishi wedded her according to the rites ordained (in the scriptures), and from them was born a high-souled son called Astika. An illustrious ascetic, versed in the Vedas and their branches, he regarded all with an even eye, and removed the fears of both his parents. "Then, after a long space of time, a king descending from the Pandava line celebrated a great sacrifice known as the Snake-sacrifice. After that sacrifice had commenced for the destruction of the snakes, Astika delivered the Nagas, viz., his brothers and maternal uncles and other snakes (from a fiery death). And he delivered his fathers also by begetting offspring. And by his austerities, O Brahmana, and various vows and study of the Vedas, he freed himself from all his debts. By sacrifices, at which various kinds of offerings were made, he propitiated the gods. By practising the Brahmacharya mode of life he conciliated the Rishis; and by begetting offspring he gratified his ancestors. "Thus Jaratkaru of rigid vows discharged the heavy debt he owed to his sires who being thus relieved from bondage ascended to heaven. Thus having acquired great religious merit, Jaratkaru, after a long course of years, went to heaven, leaving Astika behind. There is the story of Astika that I have related duly. Now, tell me, O tiger of Bhrigu's race, what else I shall narrate." So ends the fifteenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XVI (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "O Sauti, relate once more in detail this history of the learned and virtuous Astika. Our curiosity for hearing it is great. O amiable one, thou speakest sweetly, with proper accent and emphasis; and we are well-pleased with thy speech. Thou speakest even as thy father. Thy sire was ever ready to please us. Tell us now the story as thy father had related it." Sauti said, "O thou that art blest with longevity, I shall narrate the history of Astika as I heard it from my father. O Brahmana, in the golden age, Prajapati had two daughters. O sinless one, the sisters were endowed with wonderful beauty. Named Kadru and Vinata, they became the wives of Kasyapa. Kasyapa derived great pleasure from his two wedded wives and being gratified he, resembling Prajapati himself, offered to give each of them a boon. Hearing that their lord was willing to confer on them their choice blessings, those excellent ladies felt transports of joy. Kadru wished to have for sons a thousand snakes all of equal splendour. And Vinata wished to bring forth two sons surpassing the thousand offsprings of Kadru in strength, energy, size of body, and prowess. Unto Kadru her lord gave that boon about a multitude of offspring. And unto Vinata also, Kasyapa said, 'Be it so!' Then Vinata, having obtained her prayer, rejoiced greatly. Obtaining two sons of superior prowess, she regarded her boon fulfilled. Kadru also obtained her thousand sons of equal splendour. 'Bear the embryos carefully,' said Kasyapa, and then he went into the forest, leaving his two wives pleased with his blessings." Sauti continued, "O best of regenerate ones, after a long time, Kadru brought forth a thousand eggs, and Vinata two. Their maid-servants deposited the eggs separately in warm vessels. Five hundred years passed away, and the thousand eggs produced by Kadru burst and out came the progeny. But the twins of Vinata did not appear. Vinata was jealous, and therefore she broke one of the eggs and found in it an embryo with the upper part developed but the lower one undeveloped. At this, the child in the egg became angry and cursed his mother, saying. 'Since thou hast prematurely broken this egg, thou shall serve as a slave. Shouldst thou wait five hundred years and not destroy, or render the other egg half- developed, by breaking it through impatience, then the illustrious child within it will deliver thee from slavery! And if thou wouldst have the child strong, thou must take tender care of the egg for all this time!' Thus cursing his mother, the child rose to the sky. O Brahmana, even he is the charioteer of Surya, always seen in the hour of morning! "Then at the expiration of the five hundred years, bursting open the other egg, out came Garuda, the serpent-eater. O tiger of Bhrigu's race, immediately on seeing the light, that son of Vinata left his mother. And the lord of birds, feeling hungry, took wing in quest of the food assigned to him by the Great Ordainer of all.". So ends the sixteenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XVII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "O ascetic, about this time the two sisters saw approaching near, that steed of complacent appearance named Uchchaihsravas who was worshipped by the gods, that gem of steeds, who arose at the churning of the Ocean for nectar. Divine, graceful, perpetually young, creation's master-piece, and of irresistible vigour, it was blest with every auspicious mark." Saunaka asked, "Why did the gods churn the Ocean for nectar, and under what circumstances and when as you say, did that best of steeds so powerful and resplendent spring?" Sauti said, "There is a mountain named Meru, of blazing appearance, and looking like a heap of effulgence. The rays of the Sun falling on its peaks of golden lustre are dispersed by them. Decked with gold and exceedingly beautiful, that mountain is the haunt of the gods and the Gandharvas. It is immeasurable and unapproachable by men of manifold sins. Dreadful beasts of prey wander over its breasts, and it is illuminated by many divine life-giving herbs. It stands kissing the heavens by its height and is the first of mountains. Ordinary people cannot even think of ascending it. It is graced with trees and streams, and resounds with the charming melody of winged choirs. Once the celestials sat on its begemmed peak in conclave. They who had practised penances and observed excellent vows for amrita now seemed to be eager seekers after amrita (celestial ambrosia). Seeing the celestial assembly in anxious mood Narayana said to Brahman, 'Do thou churn the Ocean with the gods and the Asuras. By doing so, amrita will be obtained as also all drugs and gems. O ye gods, churn the Ocean, ye will discover amrita.'" So ends the seventeenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XVIII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "There is a mountain called Mandara adorned with cloud-like peaks. It is the best of mountains, and is covered all over with intertwining herbs. There countless birds pour forth their melodies, and beasts of prey roam about. The gods, the Apsaras and the Kinnaras visit the place. Upwards it rises eleven thousand yojanas, and descends downwards as much. The gods wanted to tear it up and use it as a churning rod but failing to do so came to Vishnu and Brahman who were sitting together, and said unto them, 'Devise some efficient scheme, consider, ye gods, how Mandara may be dislodged for our good.'" Sauti continued, "O son of Bhrigu! Vishnu with Brahman assented to it. And the lotus-eyed one (Vishnu) laid the hard task on the mighty Ananta, the prince of snakes. The powerful Ananta, directed thereto both by Brahman and Narayana, O Brahmana, tore up the mountain with the woods thereon and with the denizens of those woods. And the gods came to the shore of the Ocean with Ananta and addressed the Ocean, saying, 'O Ocean, we have come to churn thy waters for obtaining nectar.' And the Ocean replied, 'Be it so, as I shall not go without a share of it. I am able to bear the prodigious agitation of my waters set up by the mountain.' The gods then went to the king of tortoises and said to him, 'O Tortoise-king, thou wilt have to hold the mountain on thy back!' The Tortoise-king agreed, and Indra contrived to place the mountain on the former's back. "And the gods and the Asuras made of Mandara a churning staff and Vasuki the cord, and set about churning the deep for amrita. The Asuras held Vasuki by the hood and the gods held him by the tail. And Ananta, who was on the side of the gods, at intervals raised the snake's hood and suddenly lowered it. And in consequence of the stretch Vasuki received at the hands of the gods and the Asuras, black vapours with flames issued from his mouth. These, turned into clouds charged with lightning, poured showers that refreshed the tired gods. And flowers that also fell on all sides of the celestials from the trees on the whirling Mandara, refreshed them. "Then, O Brahmana, out of the deep came a tremendous roar like unto the roar of the clouds at the Universal Dissolution. Diverse aquatic animals being crushed by the great mountain gave up the ghost in the salt waters. And many denizens of the lower regions and the world of Varuna were killed. Large trees with birds on the whirling Mandara were torn up by the roots and fell into the water. The mutual friction of those trees also produced fires that blazed up frequently. The mountain thus looked like a mass of dark clouds charged with lightning. O Brahmana, the fire spread, and consumed the lions, elephants and other creatures that were on the mountain. Then Indra extinguished that fire by pouring down heavy showers. "After the churning, O Brahmana, had gone on for some time, gummy exudations of various trees and herbs vested with the properties of amrita mingled with the waters of the Ocean. And the celestials attained to immortality by drinking of the water mixed with those gums and with the liquid extract of gold. By degrees, the milky water of the agitated deep turned into clarified butter by virtue of those gums and juices. But nectar did not appear even then. The gods came before the boon-granting Brahman seated on his seat and said, 'Sire, we are spent up, we have no strength left to churn further. Nectar hath not yet arisen so that now we have no resource save Narayana.' "On hearing them, Brahman said to Narayana, 'O Lord, condescend to grant the gods strength to churn the deep afresh.' "Then Narayana agreeing to grant their various prayers, said, 'Ye wise ones, I grant you sufficient strength. Go, put the mountain in position again and churn the water.' "Re-established thus in strength, the gods recommenced churning. After a while, the mild Moon of a thousand rays emerged from the Ocean. Thereafter sprung forth Lakshmi dressed in white, then Soma, then the White Steed, and then the celestial gem Kaustubha which graces the breast of Narayana. Then Lakshmi, Soma and the Steed, fleet as the mind, all came before the gods on high. Then arose the divine Dhanwantari himself with the white vessel of nectar in his hand. And seeing him, the Asuras set up a loud cry, saying, 'It be ours.' "And at length rose the great elephant, Airavata, of huge body and with two pair of white tusks. And him took Indra the wielder of the thunderbolt. But with the churning still going on, the poison Kalakuta appeared at last. Engulfing the Earth it suddenly blazed up like a fire attended with fumes. And by the scent of the fearful Kalakuta, the three worlds were stupefied. And then Siva, being solicited by Brahman, swallowed that poison for the safety of the creation. The divine Maheswara held it in his throat, and it is said that from that time he is called Nilakantha (blue-throated). Seeing all these wondrous things, the Asuras were filled with despair, and got themselves prepared for entering into hostilities with the gods for the possession of Lakshmi and Amrita. Thereupon Narayana called his bewitching Maya (illusive power) to his aid, and assuming the form of an enticing female, coquetted with the Danavas. The Danavas and the Daityas charmed with her exquisite beauty and grace lost their reason and unanimously placed the Amrita in the hands of that fair damsel." So ends the eighteenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XIX (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then the Daityas and the Danavas equipped with first-class armours and various weapons attacked the gods. In the meantime the valiant Lord Vishnu in the form of an enchantress accompanied by Nara deceived the mighty Danavas and took away the Amrita from their hands. "And all the gods at that time of great fright drank the Amrita with delight, receiving it from Vishnu. And while the gods were partaking of it, after which they had so much hankered, a Danava named Rahu was also drinking it among them in the guise of a god. And when the Amrita had reached Rahu's throat only, Surya and Soma (recognised him and) intimated the fact to the gods. And Narayana instantly cut off with his discus the well-adorned head of the Danava who was drinking the Amrita without permission. And the huge head of the Danava, cut off by the discus and resembling a mountain peak, then rose up to the sky and began to utter dreadful cries. And the Danava's headless trunk, falling upon the ground and rolling thereon, made the Earth tremble with her mountains, forests and islands. And from that time there is a long-standing quarrel between Rahu's head and Surya and Soma. And to this day it swalloweth Surya and Soma (during solar and lunar eclipses). "Then Narayana quitting his enchanting female form and hurling many terrible weapons at the Danavas, made them tremble. And thus on the shores of the salt-water sea, commenced the dreadful battle of the gods and the Asuras. And sharp-pointed javelins and lances and various weapons by thousands began to be discharged on all sides. And mangled with the discus and wounded with swords, darts and maces, the Asuras in large numbers vomited blood and lay prostrate on the earth. Cut off from the trunks with sharp double-edged swords, heads adorned with bright gold, fell continually on the field of battle. Their bodies drenched in gore, the great Asuras lay dead everywhere. It seemed as if red-dyed mountain peaks lay scattered all around. And when the Sun rose in his splendour, thousands of warriors struck one another with weapons. And cries of distress were heard everywhere. The warriors fighting at a distance from one another brought one another down by sharp iron missiles, and those fighting at close quarters slew one another with blows of their fists. And the air was filled with shrieks of distress. Everywhere were heard the alarming sounds,--'cut', 'pierce', 'at them', 'hurl down', 'advance'. "And when the battle was raging fiercely, Nara and Narayana entered the field. And Narayana seeing the celestial bow in the hand of Nara, called to mind his own weapon, the Danava-destroying discus. And lo! the discus, Sudarsana, destroyer of enemies, like to Agni in effulgence and dreadful in battle, came from the sky as soon as thought of. And when it came, Narayana of fierce energy, possessing arms like the trunk of an elephant, hurled with great force that weapon of extraordinary lustre, effulgent as blazing fire, dreadful and capable of destroying hostile towns. And that discus blazing like the fire that consumeth all things at the end of Yuga, hurled with force from the hands of Narayana, and falling constantly everywhere, destroyed the Daityas and the Danavas by thousands. Sometimes it blazed like fire and consumed them all; sometimes it struck them down as it coursed through the sky; and sometimes, falling on the earth, it drank their life-blood like a goblin. "On the other hand, the Danavas, white as the clouds from which the rain hath dropped, possessing great strength and bold hearts, ascended the sky, and by hurling down thousands of mountains, continually harassed the gods. And those dreadful mountains, like masses of clouds, with their trees and flat tops, falling from the sky, collided with one another and produced a tremendous roar. And when thousands of warriors shouted without intermission in the field of battle and mountains with the woods thereon began to fall around, the earth with her forests trembled. Then the divine Nara appeared at the scene of the dreadful conflict between the Asuras and the Ganas (the followers of Rudra), and reducing to dust those rocks by means of his gold-headed arrows, he covered the heavens with dust. Thus discomfited by the gods, and seeing the furious discus scouring the fields of heaven like a blazing flame, the mighty Danavas entered the bowels of the earth, while others plunged into the sea of salt-waters. "And having gained the victory, the gods offered due respect to Mandara and placed him again on his own base. And the nectar-bearing gods made the heavens resound with their shouts, and went to their own abodes. And the gods, on returning to the heavens, rejoiced greatly, and Indra and the other deities made over to Narayana the vessel of Amrita for careful keeping." And so ends the nineteenth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XX (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Thus have I recited to you the whole story of how Amrita was churned out of the Ocean, and the occasion on which the horse Uchchaihsravas of great beauty and incomparable prowess was obtained. It was this horse about which Kadru asked Vinata, saying, 'Tell me, amiable sister, without taking much time, of what colour Uchchaishravas is.' And Vinata answered, 'That prince of steeds is certainly white. What dost thou think, sister? Say thou what is its colour. Let us lay a wager upon it.' Kadru replied, then, 'O thou of sweet smiles, I think that horse is black in its tail. Beauteous one, bet with me that she who loseth will become the other's slave.'" Sauti continued, "Thus wagering with each other about menial service as a slave, the sisters went home, and resolved to satisfy themselves by examining the horse next day. And Kadru, bent upon practising a deception, ordered her thousand sons to transform themselves into black hair and speedily cover the horse's tail in order that she might not become a slave. But her sons, the snakes, refusing to do her bidding, she cursed them, saying, 'During the snake-sacrifice of the wise king Janamejaya of the Pandava race, Agni shall consume you all.' And the Grandsire (Brahman) himself heard this exceedingly cruel curse pronounced by Kadru, impelled by the fates. And seeing that the snakes had multiplied exceedingly, the Grandsire, moved by kind consideration for his creatures, sanctioned with all the gods this curse of Kadru. Indeed, as the snakes were of virulent poison, great prowess and excess of strength, and ever bent on biting other creatures, their mother's conduct towards them--those persecutors of all creatures,--was very proper for the good of all creatures. Fate always inflicts punishment of death on those who seek the death of other creatures. The gods, having exchanged such sentiments with one another, supported Kadru's action (and went away). And Brahman, calling Kasyapa to him, spake unto him these words, 'O thou pure one who overcomest all enemies, these snakes begotten by you, who are of virulent poison and huge bodies, and ever intent on biting other creatures, have been cursed by their mother. O son, do not grieve for it in the least. The destruction of the snakes in the sacrifice hath, indeed, been ordained long ago.' Saying this, the divine Creator of the Universe comforted Kasyapa and imparted to that illustrious one the knowledge of neutralising poison." And so ends the twentieth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXI (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then when the night had passed away and the sun had risen in the morning, O thou whose wealth is asceticism, the two sisters Kadru and Vinata, having laid a wager about slavery, went with haste and impatience to view the steed Uchchaishravas from a near point. On their way they saw the Ocean, that receptacle of waters, vast and deep, rolling and tremendously roaring, full of fishes large enough to swallow the whale, and abounding with huge makaras and creatures of various forms by thousands, and rendered inaccessible by the presence of other terrible, monster-shaped, dark, and fierce aquatic animals, abounding with tortoises and crocodiles, the mine of all kinds of gems, the home of Varuna (the water-God), the excellent and beautiful residence of the Nagas, the lord of all rivers, the abode of the subterranean fire, the friend (or asylum) of the Asuras, the terror of all creatures, the grand reservoir of water, and ever immutable. It is holy, beneficial to the gods, and is the great source of nectar; without limits, inconceivable, sacred, and highly wonderful. It is dark, terrible with the sound of aquatic creatures, tremendously roaring, and full of deep whirl-pools. It is an object of terror to all creatures. Moved by the winds blowing from its shores and heaving high, agitated and disturbed, it seems to dance everywhere with uplifted hands represented by its surges. Full of swelling billows caused by the waxing and waning of the moon the parent of Vasudeva's great conch called Panchajanya, the great mine of gems, its waters were formerly disturbed in consequence of the agitation caused within them by the Lord Govinda of immeasurable prowess when he had assumed the form of a wild boar for raising the (submerged) Earth. Its bottom, lower than the nether regions, the vow observing regenerate Rishi Atri could not fathom after (toiling for) a hundred years. It becomes the bed of the lotus-naveled Vishnu when at the termination of every Yuga that deity of immeasurable power enjoys yoga-nidra, the deep sleep under the spell of spiritual meditation. It is the refuge of Mainaka fearful of falling thunder, and the retreat of the Asuras overcome in fierce encounters. It offers water as sacrificial butter to the blazing fire issuing from the mouth of Varava (the Ocean-mare). It is fathomless and without limits, vast and immeasurable, and the lord of rivers. "And they saw that unto it rushed mighty rivers by thousands with proud gait, like amorous competitors, each eager for meeting it, forestalling the others. And they saw that it was always full, and always dancing in its waves. And they saw that it was deep and abounding with fierce whales and makaras. And it resounded constantly with the terrible sounds of aquatic creatures. And they saw that it was vast, and wide as the expanse of space, unfathomable, and limitless, and the grand reservoir of water." And so ends the twenty-first section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "The Nagas after consultation arrived at the conclusion that they should do their mother's bidding, for if she failed in obtaining her desire she might withdraw her affection and burn them all. If, on the other hand, she were graciously inclined, she might free them from her curse. They said, 'We will certainly render the horse's tail black.' And it is said that they then went and became hairs in the horse's tail. "Now the two co-wives had laid the wager. And having laid the wager, O best of Brahmanas, the two sisters Kadru and Vinata, the daughters of Daksha, proceeded in great delight along the sky to see the other side of the Ocean. And on their way they saw the Ocean, that receptacle of waters, incapable of being easily disturbed, mightily agitated all of a sudden by the wind, and roaring tremendously; abounding with fishes capable of swallowing the whale and full of makaras; containing also creatures of diverse forms counted by thousands; frightful from the presence of horrible monsters, inaccessible, deep, and terrible, the mine of all kinds of gems, the home of Varuna (the water-god), the wonderful habitations of the Nagas, the lord of rivers, the abode of the subterranean fire; the residence of the Asuras and of many dreadful creatures; the reservoir of water, not subject to decay, aromatic, and wonderful, the great source of the amrita of the celestials; immeasurable and inconceivable, containing waters that are holy, filled to the brim by many thousands of great rivers, dancing as it were in waves. Such was the Ocean, full of rolling waves, vast as the expanse of the sky, deep, of body lighted with the flames of subterranean fire, and roaring, which the sisters quickly passed over." And so ends the twenty-second section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXIII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Having crossed the Ocean, Kadru of swift speed, accompanied by Vinata, soon alighted near the horse. They then both beheld that foremost of steeds of great speed, with body white as the rays of the moon but having black hairs (in the tail). And observing many black hairs in the tail, Kadru put Vinata, who was deeply dejected, into slavery. And thus Vinata having lost the wager, entered into a state of slavery and became exceedingly sorry. "In the meantime, when his time came, burst forth from the egg without (the help of his) mother, Garuda of great splendour, enkindling all the points of the universe, that mighty being endued with strength, that bird capable of assuming at will any form, of going at will everywhere, and of calling to his aid at will any measure of energy. Effulgent like a heap of fire, he shone terribly. Of lustre equal to that of the fire at the end of the Yuga, his eyes were bright like the lightning-flash. And soon after birth, that bird grew in size and increasing his body ascended the skies. Fierce and vehemently roaring, he looked as terrible as second Ocean-fire. And all the deities seeing him, sought the protection of Vibhavasu (Agni). And they bowed down to that deity of manifold forms seated on his seat and spake unto him these words, 'O Agni, extend not thy body! Wilt thou consume us? Lo, this huge heap of thy flames is spreading wide!' And Agni replied, 'O, ye persecutors of the Asuras, it is not as ye imagine. This is Garuda of great strength and equal to me in splendour, endued with great energy, and born to promote the joy of Vinata. Even the sight of this heap of effulgence hath caused this delusion in you. He is the mighty son of Kasyapa, the destroyer of the Nagas, engaged in the well-being of the gods, and the foe of the Daityas and the Rakshasas. Be not afraid of it in the least. Come with me and see.' Thus he addressed the gods from a distance. "The gods said, 'Thou art a Rishi (i.e., one cognisant of all mantras), sharer of the largest portion in sacrifices, ever resplendent, the controller along with the Rishi wended their way towards Garuda and adored him of birds, the presiding spirit of the animate and the inanimate universe. Thou art the destroyer of all, the creator of all; thou art the very Hiranyagarbha; thou art the progenitor of creation in the form of Daksha and the other Prajapatis; thou art Indra (the king of the gods), thou art Hayagriva the steed necked incarnation of Vishnu; thou art the arrow (Vishnu himself, as he became such in the hands of Mahadeva at the burning of Tripura); thou art the lord of the universe; thou art the mouth of Vishnu; thou art the four-faced Padmaja; thou art the Brahmana (i.e., wise), thou art Agni, Pavana, etc. (i.e., the presiding deity of every object in the universe). Thou art knowledge, thou art the illusion to which we are all subject; thou art the all-pervading spirit; thou art the lord of the gods; thou art the great Truth; thou art fearless; thou art ever unchanged; thou art Brahma without attributes; thou art the energy of the Sun; thou art the intellectual functions; thou art our great protector; thou art the ocean of holiness; thou art purity; thou art bereft of the attributes of darkness; thou art the possessor of the six high attributes; thou art he who cannot be withstood in contest. From thee have emanated all things; thou art of excellent deeds; thou art all that hath not been and all that hath been. Thou art pure knowledge; thou displayest to us, as Surya does by his rays, this animate and inanimate universe; thou darkenest the splendour of Surya at every moment, and thou art the destroyer of all; thou art all that is perishable and all that is imperishable. O thou resplendent as Agni, thou burnest all even as Surya in his anger burneth all creatures. O terrible one, thou resistest even as the fire that destroys everything at the time of the Universal Dissolution. O mighty Garuda who movest in the skies, we seek thy protection. O lord of birds thy energy is extraordinary, thy splendour is that of fire, thy brightness is like that of the lightning that no darkness can approach. Thou reachest the very clouds, and art both the cause and the effect; the dispenser of boons and invincible in prowess. O Lord, this whole universe is rendered hot by thy splendour, bright as the lustre of heated gold. Protect these high-souled gods, who overcome by thee and terrified withal, are flying along the heavens in different directions on their celestial cars. O thou best of birds, thou Lord of all, thou art the son of the merciful and high-souled Rishi Kasyapa; therefore, be not wroth but have mercy on the universe. Thou art Supreme. O pacify thy anger and preserve us. At thy voice, loud as the roar of the thunder, the ten points, the skies, the heavens, the Earth and our hearts, O bird, thou art continuously shaking. O, diminish this thy body resembling Agni. At the sight of the splendour resembling that of Yama when in wrath, our hearts lose all equanimity and quake. O thou lord of birds, be propitious to us who solicit thy mercy! O illustrious one, bestow on us good fortune and joy.' "And that bird of fair feathers, thus adored by the deities and diverse sections of Rishis, reduced his own energy and splendour." And thus ends the twenty-third section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXIV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then hearing of and beholding his own body, that bird of beautiful feathers diminished its size. "And Garuda said, 'Let no creature be afraid; as ye are in a fright at the sight of my terrible form, I shall diminish my energy.'" Sauti continued, "Then that bird capable of going everywhere at will, that ranger of the skies capable of calling to his aid any measure of energy, bearing Aruna on his back, wended from his father's home and arrived at his mother's side on the other shore of the great ocean. And he placed Aruna of great splendour in the eastern regions, just at a time when Surya had resolved to burn the worlds with his fierce rays." Saunaka said, "When did the revered Surya resolve at the time to burn the worlds? What wrong was done to him by the gods that provoked his ire?" Sauti said, "O sinless one, when Rahu was drinking nectar among the gods at the time of the churning of the ocean he was pointed out to the gods by Surya and Soma, and from that time he conceived an enmity towards those deities. And upon this Rahu sought to devour his afflictor (Surya), became wroth, and thought, 'Oh, this enmity of Rahu towards me hath sprung from my desire of benefiting the gods. And this dire consequence I alone have to sustain. Indeed, at this pass help I obtain not. And before the very eyes of the denizens of heaven I am going to be devoured and they brook it quietly. Therefore, for the destruction of the worlds must I strive.' And with this resolution he went to the mountains of the west. "And from that place he began to radiate his heat around for the destruction of the world. And then the great Rishis, approaching the gods, spake unto them, 'Lo, in the middle of the night springeth a great heat striking terror into every heart, and destructive of the three worlds.' Then the gods, accompanied by the Rishis, wended to the Grandsire, and said unto him, 'O what is this great heat today that causeth such panic? Surya hath not yet risen, still the destruction (of the world) is obvious. O Lord, what will happen when he doth rise?' The Grandsire replied, 'Indeed, Surya is prepared to rise today for the destruction of the world. As soon as he will appear he will burn everything into a heap of ashes. By me, however, hath the remedy been provided beforehand. The intelligent son of Kasyapa is known to all by the name of Aruna. He is huge of body and of great splendour; he shall stay in front of Surya, doing the duty of his charioteer and taking away all the energy of the former. And this will ensure the welfare of the worlds, of the Rishis, and of the dwellers in heaven.'" Sauti continued, "Aruna, at the behest of the Grandsire, did all that he was ordered to do. And Surya rose veiled by Aruna's person. I have told thee now why Surya was in wrath, and how Aruna, the brother of Garuda, was appointed as his charioteer. Hear next of that other question asked by thee a little while ago." And so ends the twenty-fourth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then that bird of great strength and energy and capable of going at will to every place repaired to his mother's side on the other shore of the great ocean. Thither lived Vinata in affliction, defeated in wager and put into a state of slavery. Once Kadru calling Vinata who had prostrated herself before the former, addressed her these words in the presence of her son, 'O gentle Vinata, there is in the midst of the ocean, in a remote quarter, a delightful and fair region inhabited by the Nagas. Bear me thither!' At this that mother of the bird of fair feathers bore (on her shoulders) the mother of the snakes. And Garuda also, directed by his mother's words, carried (on his back) the snakes. And that ranger of the skies born of Vinata began to ascend towards the Sun. And thereupon the snakes, scorched by the rays of the Sun, swooned away. And Kadru seeing her sons in that state prayed to Indra, saying, 'I bow to thee, thou Lord of all the gods! I bow to thee, thou slayer of Vritra! I bow to thee, thou slayer of Namuchi! O thou of a thousand eyes, consort of Sachi! By thy showers, be thou the protector of the snakes scorched by the Sun. O thou best of the deities, thou art our great protector. O Purandara, thou art able to grant rain in torrents. Thou art Vayu (the air), the clouds, fire, and the lightning of the skies. Thou art the propeller of the clouds, and hast been called the great cloud (i.e., that which will darken the universe at the end of Yuga). Thou art the fierce and incomparable thunder, and the roaring clouds. Thou art the Creator of the worlds and their Destroyer. Thou art unconquered. Thou art the light of all creatures, Aditya, Vibhavasu, and the wonderful elements. Thou art the ruler of all the gods. Thou art Vishnu. Thou hast a thousand eyes. Thou art a god, and the final resource. Thou art, O deity, all amrita, and the most adored Soma. Thou art the moment, the lunar day, the bala (minute), thou art the kshana (4 minutes). Thou art the lighted fortnight, and also the dark fortnight. Thou art kala, thou kashtha, and thou Truti. Thou art the year, the seasons, the months, the nights, and the days. Thou art the fair Earth with her mountains and forests. Thou art also the firmament, resplendent with the Sun. Thou art the great Ocean with heaving billows and abounding with whales, swallowers of whales, and makaras, and various fishes. Thou art of great renown, always adored by the wise and by the great Rishis with minds rapt in contemplation. Thou drinkest, for the good of all creatures, the Soma juice in sacrifices and the clarified butter offered with sacred invocation. Thou art always worshipped at sacrifices by Brahmanas moved by desire of fruit. O thou of incomparable mass of strength, thou art sung in the Vedas and Vedangas. It is for that reason that learned Brahmanas bent upon performing sacrifices, study the Vedas with every care.'" And so ends the twenty-fifth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXVI (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "And then Indra, the king of gods, having the best of horses for his bearer, thus adored by Kadru, covered the entire firmament with masses of blue clouds. And he commanded the clouds, saying, 'Pour ye, your vivifying and blessed drops!' And those clouds, luminous with lightning, and incessantly roaring against each other in the welkin, poured abundant water. And the sky, in consequence of those wonderful and terribly-roaring clouds that were incessantly begetting vast quantities of water, looked as if the end of Yuga had come. And in consequence of the myriads of waves caused in the falling torrents, the deep roar of the clouds, the flashes of lightning, the violence of the wind, and the general agitation, the sky looked as if dancing in madness. The sky became overcast, and the rays of the Sun and the Moon totally disappeared in consequence of that incessant downpour. "And upon Indra's causing that downpour, the Nagas became exceedingly delighted. And the Earth was filled with water all around. And the cool, clear water reached even the nether regions. And there were countless waves of water all over the Earth. And the snakes with their mother reached (in safety) the island called Ramaniyaka." And so ends the twenty-sixth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXVII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "And then the Nagas drenched by that shower, became exceedingly glad. And borne by that bird of fair feathers, they soon arrived at the island. That island had been fixed by the Creator of the Universe as the abode of the makaras. There they saw the terrible Lavana Samudra (ocean of salt). On arriving there with Garuda, they saw there a beautiful forest washed by the waters of the sea and resounding with the music of winged choirs. And there were clusters of trees all around laden with various fruits and flowers. And there were also fair mansions all around; and many tanks full of lotuses. And it was also adorned with many lakes of pure water. And it was refreshed with pure incense-breathing breezes. And it was adorned with many a tree that grew only on the hills of Malaya, and seemed by their tallness to reach the very heavens. And there were also various other trees whose flowers were scattered all around by the breeze. And that forest was charming and dear to the Gandharvas and always gave them pleasure. And it was full of bees maddened with the honey they sucked. And the sight of all this was exceedingly delightful. And in consequence of many things there, capable of charming everybody, that forest was fair, delightful, and holy. And, echoing with the notes of various birds, it delighted greatly the sons of Kadru. "And the snakes, after arriving at that forest, began to enjoy themselves. And they commanded the lord of birds, viz., Garuda, of great energy, saying, 'Convey us to some other fair island with pure water. Thou ranger of the skies, thou must have seen many fair regions while coursing (through the air).' Garuda, after reflecting for a few moments, asked his mother Vinata, saying, 'Why, mother, have I to do the bidding of the snakes?' Vinata thus questioned by him spake unto that ranger of the skies, her son, invested with every virtue, of great energy, and great strength, as follows. Vinata said, 'O thou best of birds, I have become, from misfortune, the slave of my co-wife. The snakes, by an act of deception, caused me to lose my bet and have made me so.' When his mother had told him the reason, that ranger of the skies, dejected with grief, addressed the snakes, saying, 'Tell me, ye snakes, by bringing what thing, gaining a knowledge of what thing, or doing what act of prowess, we may be freed from this state of bondage to you.'" Sauti continued, "The snakes, hearing him, said, 'Bring thou amrita by force. Then O bird, shall you be freed from bondage.'" And so ends the twenty-seventh section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXVIII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Garuda, thus addressed by the snakes, then said unto his mother, 'I shall go to bring amrita. I desire to eat something in the way. Direct me to it.' Vinata replied, 'In a remote region in the midst of the ocean, the Nishadas have their fair home. Having eaten the thousands of Nishadas that live there, bring thou amrita. But let not thy heart be ever set on taking the life of a Brahmana. Of all creatures a Brahmana must not be slain. He is, indeed, like fire. A Brahmana, when angry, becomes like fire or the Sun, like poison or an edged weapon. A Brahmana, it has been said, is the master of all creatures. For these and other reasons, a Brahmana is the adored of the virtuous. O child, he is never to be slain by thee even in anger. Hostility with Brahmanas, therefore, would not be proper under any circumstances. O sinless one, neither Agni nor Surya truly can consume so much as does a Brahmana of rigid vows, when angry. By these various indications must thou know a good Brahmana. Indeed, a brahmana is the first-born of all creatures, the foremost of the four orders, the father and the master of all.' Garuda then asked, 'O mother, of what form is a Brahmana, of what behaviour, and of what prowess? Doth he shine like fire, or is he of tranquil mien? And, O mother, it behoveth thee to tell my inquiring self, those auspicious signs by which I may recognise a Brahmana.' Vinata replied, saying, 'O child, him shouldst thou know as the best amongst Brahmanas who having entered thy throat would torture thee as a fish-hook or burn thee as blazing charcoal. A Brahmana must never be slain by thee even in anger.' And Vinata out of affection for her son, again told him these words, 'Him shouldst thou know as a good Brahmana who would not be digested in thy stomach.' Although she knew the incomparable strength of her son, yet she blessed him heartily, for, deceived by the snakes, she was very much afflicted by woe. And she said. 'Let Marut (the god of the winds) protect thy wings, and Surya and Soma thy vertebral regions; let Agni protect thy head, and the Vasus thy whole body. I also, O child (engaged in beneficial ceremonies), shall sit here for your welfare. Go then, O child, in safety to accomplish thy purpose.'" Sauti continued, "Then Garuda, having heard the words of his mother, stretched his wings and ascended the skies. And endued with great strength, he soon fell upon the Nishadas, hungry and like another Yama. And bent upon slaying the Nishadas, he raised a great quantity of dust that overspread the firmament, and sucking up water from amid the ocean, shook the trees growing on the adjacent mountains. And then that lord of birds obstructed the principal thoroughfares of the town of the Nishadas by his mouth, increasing its orifice at will. And the Nishadas began to fly in great haste in the direction of the open mouth of the great serpent-eater. And as birds in great affliction ascend by thousand into the skies when the trees in a forest are shaken by the winds, so those Nishadas blinded by the dust raised by the storm entered the wide-extending cleft of Garuda's mouth open to receive them. And then the hungry lord of all rangers of the skies, that oppressor of enemies, endued with great strength, and moving with greatest celerity to achieve his end, closed his mouth, killing innumerable Nishadas following the occupation of fishermen." So ends the twenty-eighth section in the Astika Parva of Adi Parva. SECTION XXIX (Astika Parva continued) Sauti continued, "A certain Brahmana with his wife had entered the throat of that ranger of the skies. The former began to burn the bird's throat like a piece of flaming charcoal. Him Garuda addressed, saying, 'O best of Brahmanas, come out soon from my mouth which I open for thee. A Brahmana must never be slain by me, although he may be always engaged in sinful practices.' Unto Garuda who had thus addressed him that Brahmana said, 'O, let this woman of the Nishada caste, who is my wife, also come out with me.' And Garuda said, 'Taking the woman also of the Nishada caste with thee, come out soon. Save thyself without delay since thou hast not yet been digested by the heat of my stomach.'" Sauti continued, "And then that Brahmana, accompanied by his wife of the Nishada caste, came out, and praising Garuda wended whatever way he liked. And when that Brahmana had come out with his wife, that lord of birds, fleet as the mind, stretching his wings ascended the skies. He then saw his father, and, hailed by him, Garuda, of incomparable prowess made proper answers. And the great Rishi (Kasyapa) then asked him, 'O child, is it well with thee? Dost thou get sufficient food every day? Is there food in plenty for thee in the world of men?' "Garuda replied, 'My mother is ever well. And so is my brother, and so am I. But, father, I do not always obtain plenty of food, for which my peace is incomplete. I am sent by the snakes to fetch the excellent amrita. Indeed, I shall fetch it today for emancipating my mother from her bondage. My mother command me, saying, "Eat thou the Nishadas." I have eaten them by thousands, but my hunger is not appeased. Therefore, O worshipful one, point out to me some other food, by eating which, O master, I may be strong enough to bring away amrita by force. Thou shouldst indicate some food wherewith I may appease my hunger and thirst.' "Kasyapa replied, 'This lake thou seest is sacred. It hath been heard, of even in the heavens. There is an elephant, with face downwards, who continually draggeth a tortoise, his elder brother. I shall speak to you in detail of their hostility in former life. Just listen as I tell you why they are here. "'There was of old a great Rishi of the name of Vibhavasu. He was exceedingly wrathful. He had a younger brother of the name of Supritika. The latter was averse to keeping his wealth jointly with his brother's. And Supritika would always speak of partition. After some time his brother Vibhavasu told Supritika, "It is from great foolishness that persons blinded by love of wealth always desire to make a partition of their patrimony. After effecting a partition they fight with each other, deluded by wealth. Then again, enemies in the guise of friends cause estrangements between ignorant and selfish men after they become separated in wealth, and pointing out faults confirm their quarrels, so that the latter soon fall one by one. Absolute ruin very soon overtakes the separated. For these reasons the wise never speak approvingly of partition amongst brothers who, when divided, do not regard the most authoritative Sastras and live always in fear of each other. But as thou, Supritika, without regarding my advice impelled by desire of separation, always wishest to make an arrangement about your property, thou shall become an elephant." Supritika, thus cursed, then spake unto Vibhavasu, "Thou also shall become a tortoise moving in the midst of the waters." "'And thus on account of wealth those two fools, Supritika and Vibhavasu, from each other's curse, have become an elephant and a tortoise respectively. Owing to their wrath, they have both become inferior animals. And they are engaged in hostilities with each other, proud of their excessive strength and the weight of their bodies. And in this lake those two beings of huge bodies are engaged in acts according to their former hostility. Look here, one amongst them, the handsome elephant of huge body, is even now approaching. Hearing his roar, the tortoise also of huge body, living within the waters, cometh out, agitating the lake violently. And seeing him the elephant, curling his trunk, rusheth into the water. And endued with great energy, with motion of his tusks and fore-part of his trunk and tail and feet, he agitates the water of the lake abounding with fishes. And the tortoise also of great strength, with upraised head, cometh forward for an encounter. And the elephant is six yojanas in height and twice that measure in circumference. And the height of the tortoise also is three yojanas and his circumference ten. Eat thou up both of them that are madly engaged in the encounter and bent upon slaying each other, and then accomplish the task that thou desirest. Eating that fierce elephant which looketh like a huge mountain and resembleth a mass of dark clouds, bring thou amrita.'" Sauti continued, "Having said so unto Garuda, he (Kasyapa) blessed him, saying, 'Blest be thou when thou art in combat with the gods. Let water pitchers filled to the brim, Brahmanas, kine, and other auspicious objects, bless thee, thou oviparous one. And, O thou of great strength, when thou art engaged with the gods in combat, let the Riks, the Yajus, the Samas, the sacred sacrificial butter, all the mysteries (Upanishads), constitute thy strength.' "Garuda, thus addressed by his father, wended to the side of that lake. He saw that expanse of clear water with birds of various kinds all around. And remembering the words of his father, that ranger of the skies possessed of great swiftness of motion, seized the elephant and the tortoise, one in each claw. And that bird then soared high into the air. And he came upon a sacred place called Alamva and saw many divine trees. And struck by the wind raised by his wings, those trees began to shake with fear. And those divine trees having golden boughs feared that they would break. And the ranger of the skies seeing that those trees capable of granting every wish were quaking with fear, went to other trees of incomparable appearance. And those gigantic trees were adorned with fruits of gold and silver and branches of precious gems. And they were washed with the water of the sea. And there was a large banian among them, which had grown into gigantic proportions, that spoke unto that lord of bird coursing towards it with the fleetness of the mind, 'Sit thou on this large branch of mine extending a hundred yojanas and eat the elephant and the tortoise.' When that best of birds, of great swiftness and of body resembling a mountain, quickly alighted upon a bough of that banian tree, the resort of thousands of winged creatures--that bough also full of leaves shook and broke down." So ends the twenty-ninth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXX (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "At the very touch by Garuda of great might with his feet, the branch of the tree broke as it was caught by Garuda. Casting his eyes around in wonder he saw Valakhilya Rishis hanging therefrom with heads downwards and engaged in ascetic penances. Reflecting that if that bough fell down, the Rishis would be slain, the mighty one held the elephant and the tortoise still more firmly with his claws. And from fear of slaying the Rishis and desire of saving them, held that bough in his beaks, and rose on his wings. The great Rishis were struck with wonder at the sight of that act of his which was beyond even the power of the gods, and gave that mighty bird a name. And they said, 'As this ranger of the skies rises on its wings bearing a heavy burden, let this foremost of birds having snakes for his food be called Garuda (bearer of heavy weight).' "And shaking the mountains by his wings, Garuda leisurely coursed through the skies. And as he soared with the elephant and the tortoise (in his claws), he beheld various regions underneath. Desiring as he did to save the Valakhilyas, he saw not a spot whereon to sit. At last he went to that foremost of mountains called Gandhamadana. There he saw his father Kasyapa engaged in ascetic devotions. Kasyapa also saw his son, that ranger of the skies, of divine form, possessed of great splendour, and energy and strength, and endued with the speed of the wind or the mind, huge as a mountain peak, a ready smiter like the curse of a Brahmana, inconceivable, indescribable, frightful to all creatures, possessed of great prowess, terrible, of the splendour of Agni himself, and incapable of being overcome by the deities, Danavas, and invincible Rakshasas, capable of splitting mountain summits and sucking the ocean itself and destroying the three worlds, fierce, and looking like Yama himself. The illustrious Kasyapa, seeing him approach and knowing also his motive, spoke unto him these words: "Kasyapa said, 'O child, do not commit a rash act, for then thou wouldst have to suffer pain. The Valakhilyas, supporting themselves by drinking the rays of the sun, might, if angry, blast thee.'" Sauti continued, "Kasyapa then propitiated, for the sake of his son, the Valakhilyas of exceeding good fortune and whose sins had been destroyed by ascetic penances. And Kasyapa said, 'Ye whose wealth is asceticism, the essay of Garuda is for the good of all creatures. The task is great that he is striving to accomplish. It behoveth you to accord him your permission.'" Sauti continued, "Those ascetics thus addressed by the illustrious Kasyapa, abandoned that bough and went to the sacred mountain of Himavat for purposes of ascetic penances. After those Rishis had gone away, the son of Vinata, with voice obstructed by the bough in his beaks, asked his father Kasyapa saying, 'O illustrious one, where shall I throw this arm of the tree? O illustrious one, indicate to me some region without human beings.' Then Kasyapa spoke of a mountain without human beings with caves and dales always covered with snow and incapable of approach by ordinary creatures even in thought. And the great bird bearing that branch, that elephant, and that tortoise, proceeded with great speed towards that mountain. The great arm of the tree with which that bird of huge body flew away could not be girt round with a cord made of a hundred (cow) hides. Garuda, the lord of birds, then flew away for hundreds of thousand of yojanas within the shortest time. And going according to the directions of his father to that mountain almost in a moment, that ranger of the skies let fall the gigantic bough. And it fell with a great noise. And that Prince of mountains shook, struck with the storm raised by Garuda's wings. And the trees thereon dropped showers of flowers. And the peaks decked with gems and gold adorning that great mountain itself, were loosened and fell down on all sides. And the falling bough struck down numerous trees which, with golden flowers amid dark foliage, shone there like clouds charged with lightning. And those trees, bright as gold, falling down upon the ground and, dyed with mountain metals, shone as if they were bathed in the rays of the sun. "Then that best of birds, Garuda, perching on the summit of that mountain, ate both the elephant and the tortoise, rose on his wings with great speed from the top of the mountain. "And various omens began to appear among the gods foreboding fear. Indra's favourite thunderbolt blazed up in a fright. Meteors with flames and smoke, loosened from the welkin, shot down during the day. And the weapons of the Vasus, the Rudras, the Adityas, the Sabhyas, the Maruts, and other gods, began to spend their force against one another. Such a thing had never happened even during the war between the gods and the Asuras. And the winds blew accompanied with thunder, and meteors fell by thousands. And the sky, though cloudless, roared tremendously. And even he who was the god of gods shed showers of blood. And the flowery garlands on the necks of the gods faded and their prowess suffered diminution. And terrible masses of clouds dropped thick showers of blood. And the dust raised by the winds darkened the splendour of the very coronets of the gods. And He of a thousand sacrifices (Indra), with the other gods, perplexed with fear at the sight of those dark forebodings spoke unto Vrihaspati thus, 'Why, O worshipful one, have these natural disturbances suddenly arisen? No foe do I behold who would oppress us in war.' Vrihaspati answered, 'O chief of the gods, O thou of a thousand sacrifices, it is from thy fault and carelessness, and owing also to the ascetic penance of the high-souled great Rishis, the Valakhilyas, that the son of Kasyapa and Vinata, a ranger of the skies endued with great strength and possessing the capacity of assuming at will any form, is approaching to take away the Soma. And that bird, foremost among all endued with great strength, is able to rob you of the Soma. Everything is possible with him; the unachievable he can achieve.'" Sauti continued, "Indra, having heard these words, then spoke unto those that guarded the amrita, saying, 'A bird endued with great strength and energy has set his heart on taking away the amrita. I warn you beforehand so that he may not succeed in taking it away by force. Vrihaspati has told me that his strength is immeasurable.' And the gods hearing of it were amazed and took precautions. And they stood surrounding the amrita and Indra also of great prowess, the wielder of the thunder, stood with them. And the gods wore curious breastplates of gold, of great value, and set with gems, and bright leathern armour of great toughness. And the mighty deities wielded various sharp-edged weapons of terrible shapes, countless in number, emitting, even all of them, sparks of fire with smoke. And they were also armed with many a discus and iron mace furnished with spikes, and trident, battle-axe, and various kinds of sharp-pointed missiles and polished swords and maces of terrible form, all befitting their respective bodies. And decked with celestial ornaments and resplendent with those bright arms, the gods waited there, their fears allayed. And the gods, of incomparable strength, energy, and splendour, resolved to protect the amrita. Capable of splitting the towns of the Asuras, all displayed themselves in forms resplendent as the fire. And in consequence of the gods standing there, that (would be) battle-field, owing to hundreds of thousands of maces furnished with iron spikes, shone like another firmament illumined by the rays of the Sun." So ends the thirtieth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXI (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "O son of Suta, what was Indra's fault, what his act of carelessness? How was Garuda born in consequence of the ascetic penances of the Valakhilyas? Why also Kasyapa--a Brahman--had the king of birds for a son? Why, too, was he invincible of all creatures and unslayable of all? Why also was that ranger of the skies capable of going into every place at will and of mustering at will any measure of energy? If these are described in the Purana, I should like to hear them." Sauti said, "What thou askest me is, indeed, the subject of the Purana. O twice-born one, listen as I briefly recite it all. "Once upon a time, when the lord of creation, Kasyapa, was engaged in a sacrifice from desire of offspring, the Rishis, the gods, and the Gandharvas, all gave him help. And Indra was appointed by Kasyapa to bring the sacrificial fuel; and with him those ascetics the Valakhilyas, and all the other deities. And the lord Indra, taking up according to his own strength, a weight that was mountain-like, brought it without any fatigue. And he saw on the way some Rishis, of bodies of the measure of the thumb, all together carrying one single stalk of a Palasa (Butea frondosa) leaf. And those Rishis were, from want of food, very lean and almost merged in their own bodies. And they were so weak that they were much afflicted when sunk in the water that collected in an indentation on the road produced by the hoof of a cow. And Purandara, proud of his strength, beheld them with surprise, and laughing at them in derision soon left them behind insulting them, besides, by passing over their heads. And those Rishis being thus insulted were filled with rage and sorrow. And they made preparations for a great sacrifice at which Indra was terrified. Hear, O Saunaka, of the wish for accomplishment of which those vow-observing wise, and excellent ascetics poured clarified butter on the sacrificial fire with loudly uttered mantras, 'There shall be another Indra of all gods, capable of going everywhere at will, and of mustering at will any measure of energy, and striking fear into the (present) king of the gods. By the fruit of our ascetic penance, let one arise, fleet as the mind, and fierce withal.' And the lord of the celestials of a hundred sacrifices, having come to know of this, became very much alarmed and sought the protection of the vow- observing Kasyapa. And the Prajapati Kasyapa, hearing everything from Indra, went to the Valakhilyas and asked them if their sacrifice had been successful. And those truth-speaking Rishis replied to him, saying, 'Let it be as thou sayest!' And the Prajapati Kasyapa pacifying them, spake unto them as follows, 'By the word of Brahman, this one (Indra) hath been made the Lord of the three worlds. Ye ascetics, ye also are striving to create another Indra! Ye excellent ones, it behoveth you not to falsify the word of Brahman. Let not also this purpose, for (accomplishing) which ye are striving, be rendered futile. Let there spring an Indra (Lord) of winged creatures, endued with excess of strength! Be gracious unto Indra who is a suppliant before you.' And the Valakhilyas, thus addressed by Kasyapa, after offering reverence to that first of the Munis, viz., the Prajapati Kasyapa, spake unto him: "The Valakhilyas said, 'O Prajapati, this sacrifice of us all is for an Indra! Indeed this hath also been meant for a son being born unto thee! Let this task be now left to thee. And in this matter do whatsoever thou seest to be good and proper.'" Sauti continued, "Meanwhile, moved by the desire of offspring, the good daughter of Daksha, the vow-observing, amiable, and fortunate Vinata, her ascetic penances over, having purified herself with a bath in that season when connubial companionship might prove fruitful, approached her lord. And Kasyapa spake unto her, 'Respected one, the sacrifice commenced by me hath borne fruit. What hath been desired by thee shall come to pass. Two heroic sons, shall be born unto thee, who shall be the lords of the three worlds. By the penances of the Valakhilyas and by virtue of the desire with which I commenced my sacrifice, those sons shall be of exceedingly good fortune and worshipped in the three worlds!' And the illustrious Kasyapa spake unto her again, 'Bear thou these auspicious seeds with great care. These two will be the lords of all winged creatures. These heroic rangers of the skies will be respected in all the worlds, and capable of assuming any form at will.' "And the Prajapati, gratified with all that took place, then addressed Indra of a hundred sacrifices, saying, 'Thou shalt have two brothers of great energy and prowess, who shall be to thee even as the helpmates. From them no injury shall result unto thee. Let thy sorrow cease; thou shalt continue as the lord of all. Let not, however, the utterers of the name of Brahma be ever again slighted by thee. Nor let the very wrathful ones, whose words are even the thunderbolt, be ever again insulted by thee.' Indra, thus addressed, went to heaven, his fears dispelled. And Vinata also, her purpose fulfilled, was exceedingly glad. And she gave birth to two sons, Aruna and Garuda. And Aruna, of undeveloped body, became the fore-runner of the Sun. And Garuda was vested with the lordship over the birds. O thou of Bhrigu's race, hearken now to the mighty achievement of Garuda." So ends the thirty-first section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "O foremost of Brahmanas, the gods having prepared for battle in that way, Garuda, the king of birds, soon came upon those wise ones. And the gods beholding him of excessive strength began to quake with fear, and strike one another with all their weapons. And amongst those that guarded the Soma was Brahmana (the celestial architect), of measureless might, effulgent as the electric fire and of great energy. And after a terrific encounter lasting only a moment, managed by the lord of birds with his talons, beak, and wings, he lay as dead on the fields. And the ranger of the skies making the worlds dark with the dust raised by the hurricane of his wings, overwhelmed the celestials with it. And the latter, overwhelmed with that dust, swooned away. And the immortals who guarded the amrita, blinded by that dust, could no longer see Garuda. Even thus did Garuda agitate the region of the heavens. And even thus he mangled the gods with the wounds inflicted by his wings and beak. "Then the god of a thousand eyes commanded Vayu (the god of wind), saying, 'Dispel thou this shower of dust soon. O Maruta, this is indeed, thy task.' Then the mighty Vayu soon drove away that dust. And when the darkness had disappeared, the celestials attacked Garuda. And as he of great might was attacked by the gods, he began to roar aloud, like the great cloud that appeareth in the sky at the end of the Yuga, frightening every creature. And that king of birds, of great energy, that slayer of hostile heroes, then rose on his wings. All the wise ones (the celestials) with Indra amongst them armed with double-edged broad swords, iron maces furnished with sharp spikes, pointed lances, maces, bright arrows, and many a discus of the form of the sun, saw him over head. And the king of birds, attacked them on all sides with showers of various weapons and fought exceedingly hard without wavering for a moment. And the son of Vinata, of great prowess blazing in the sky, attacked the gods on all sides with his wings and breast. And blood began to flow copiously from the bodies of the gods mangled by the talons and the beak of Garuda. Overcome by the lord of birds, the Sadhyas with the Gandharvas fled eastwards, the Vasus with the Rudras towards the south, the Adityas towards the west, and the twin Aswins towards the north. Gifted with great energy, they retreated fighting, looking back every moment on their enemy. "And Garuda had encounters with the Yakshas, Aswakranda of great courage, Rainuka, the bold Krathanaka, Tapana, Uluka, Swasanaka, Nimesha, Praruja, and Pulina. And the son of Vinata mangled them with his wings, talons, and beak, like Siva himself, that chastiser of enemies, and the holder of Pinaka in rage at the end of the Yuga. And those Yakshas of great might and courage, mangled all over by that ranger of the skies, looked like masses of black clouds dropping thick showers of blood. "And Garuda, depriving them of life, and then went to where the amrita was. And he saw that it was surrounded on all sides by fire. And the terrible flames of that fire covered the entire sky. And moved by violent winds, they seemed bent on burning the Sun himself. The illustrious Garuda then assumed ninety times ninety mouths and quickly drinking the waters of many rivers with those mouths and returning with great speed, that chastiser of enemies, having wings for his vehicle extinguished that fire with that water. And extinguishing that fire, he assumed a very small form, desirous of entering into (the place where the Soma was)." So ends the thirty-second section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXIII (Astika Parva continued) Santi said, "And that bird, assuming a golden body bright as the rays of the Sun, entered with great force (the region where the Soma was), like a torrent entering the ocean. And he saw, placed near the Soma, a wheel of steel keen-edged, and sharp as the razor, revolving incessantly. And that fierce instrument, of the splendour of the blazing sun and of terrible form, had been devised by the gods for cutting in pieces all robbers of the Soma. Garuda, seeing a passage through it, stopped there for a moment. Diminishing his body, in an instant he passed through the spokes of that wheel. Within the line of the wheel, he beheld, stationed there for guarding the Soma two great snakes of the effulgence of blazing fire, with tongues bright as the lightning-flash, of great energy, with mouth emitting fire, with blazing eyes, containing poison, very terrible, always in anger, and of great activity. Their eyes were ceaselessly inflamed with rage and were also winkless. He who may be seen by even one of the two would instantly be reduced to ashes. The bird of fair feathers suddenly covered their eyes with dust. And unseen by them he attacked them from all sides. And the son of Vinata, that ranger of the skies, attacking their bodies, mangled them into pieces. He then approached the Soma without loss of time. Then the mighty son of Vinata, taking up the Amrita from the place where it was kept, rose on his wings with great speed, breaking into pieces the machine that had surrounded it. And the bird soon came out, taking the Amrita but without drinking it himself. And he then wended on his way without the least fatigue, darkening the splendour of the Sun. "And the son of Vinata then met Vishnu on his way along the sky. And Narayana was gratified at that act of self-denial on the part of Garuda. And that deity, knowing no deterioration, said unto the ranger of the skies, 'O, I am inclined to grant thee a boon.' The ranger of the skies thereupon said, 'I shall stay above thee.' And he again spake unto Narayana these words, 'I shall be immortal and free from disease without (drinking) Amrita.' Vishnu said unto the son of Vinata, 'Be it so.' Garuda, receiving those two boons, told Vishnu, 'I also shall grant thee a boon; therefore, let the possessor of the six attributes ask of me.' Vishnu then asked the mighty Garuda to become his carrier. And he made the bird sit on the flagstaff of his car, saying, 'Even thus thou shalt stay above me.' And the ranger of the skies, of great speed, saying unto Narayana, 'Be it so,' swiftly wended on his way, mocking the wind with his fleetness. "And while that foremost of all rangers of the skies, that first of winged creatures, Garuda, was coursing through the air after wresting the Amrita, Indra hurled at him his thunderbolt. Then Garuda, the lord of birds, struck with thunderbolt, spake laughingly unto Indra engaged in the encounter, in sweet words, saying, 'I shall respect the Rishi (Dadhichi) of whose bone the Vajra hath been made. I shall also respect the Vajra, and thee also of a thousand sacrifices. I cast this feather of mine whose end thou shalt not attain. Struck with thy thunder I have not felt the slightest pain.' And having said this, the king of birds cast a feather of his. And all creatures became exceedingly glad, beholding that excellent feather of Garuda so cast off. And seeing that the feather was very beautiful, they said, 'Let this bird be called Suparna (having fair feathers).' And Purandara of a thousand eyes, witnessing this wonderful incident, thought that bird to be some great being and addressed him thus. "And Indra said, 'O best of birds, I desire to know the limit of thy great strength. I also desire eternal friendship with thee.'" So ends the thirty-third section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXIV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti continued, "Garuda then said, 'O Purandara, let there be friendship between thee and me as thou desirest. My strength, know thou, is hard to bear. O thou of a thousand sacrifices, the good never approve of speaking highly of their own strength, nor do they speak of their own merits. But being made a friend, and asked by thee, O friend, I will answer thee, although self-praise without reason is ever improper. I can bear, on a single feather of mine, O Sakra, this Earth, with her mountains and forests and with the waters of the ocean, and with thee also stationed thereon. Know thou, my strength is such that I can bear without fatigue even all the worlds put together, with their mobile and immobile objects.'" Sauti continued, "O Saunaka, after Garuda of great courage had thus spoken, Indra the chief of the gods, the wearer of the (celestial) crown, ever bent upon the good of the worlds, replied, saying, 'It is as thou sayest. Everything is possible in thee. Accept now my sincere and hearty friendship. And if thou hast no concern with the Soma, return it to me. Those to whom thou wouldst give it would always oppose us.' Garuda answered, 'There is a certain reason for which the Soma is being carried by me. I shall not give the Soma to any one for drink. But, O thou of a thousand eyes, after I have placed it down, thou, O lord of the heavens, canst then, taking it up, instantly bring it away.' Indra then said, 'O oviparous one, I am highly gratified with these words now spoken by thee. O best of all rangers of the skies, accept from me any boon that thou desirest.'" Sauti continued, "Then Garuda, recollecting the sons of Kadru and remembering also the bondage of his mother caused by an act of deception owing to the well-known reason (viz., the curse of Aruna), said, 'Although I have power over all creatures, yet I shall do your bidding. Let, O Sakra, the mighty snakes become my food.' The slayer of the Danavas having said unto him, 'Be it so,' then went to Hari, the god of gods, of great soul, and the lord of Yogins. And the latter sanctioned everything that had been said by Garuda. And the illustrious lord of heaven again said unto Garuda, 'I shall bring away the Soma when thou placest it down.' And having said so, he bade farewell to Garuda. And the bird of fair feathers then went to the presence of his mother with great speed. "And Garuda in joy then spake unto all the snakes, 'Here have I brought the Amrita. Let me place it on some Kusa grass. O ye snakes, sitting here, drink of it after ye have performed your ablutions and religious rites. As said by you, let my mother become, from this day, free, for I have accomplished your bidding.' The snakes having said unto Garuda, 'Be it so,' then went to perform their ablutions. Meanwhile, Sakra taking up the Amrita, wended back to heaven. The snakes after performing their ablutions, their daily devotions, and other sacred rites, returned in joy, desirous of drinking the Amrita. They saw that the bed of kusa grass whereon the Amrita had been placed was empty, the Amrita itself having been taken away by a counter-act of deception. And they began to lick with their tongues the kusa grass, as the Amrita had been placed thereon. And the tongues of the snakes by that act became divided in twain. And the kusa grass, too, from the contact with Amrita, became sacred thenceforth. Thus did the illustrious Garuda bring Amrita (from the heavens) for the snakes, and thus were the tongues of snakes divided by what Garuda did. "Then the bird of fair feathers, very much delighted, enjoyed himself in those woods accompanied by his mother. Of grand achievements, and deeply reverenced by all rangers of the skies, he gratified his mother by devouring the snakes. "That man who would listen to this story, or read it out to an assembly of good Brahmanas, must surely go to heaven, acquiring great merit from the recitation of (the feats of) Garuda." And so ends the thirty-fourth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXV (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "O son of Suta, thou hast told us the reason why the snakes were cursed by their mother, and why Vinata also was cursed by her son. Thou hast also told us about the bestowal of boons, by their husband, on Kadru and Vinata. Thou hast likewise told us the names of Vinata's sons. But thou hast not yet recited to us the names of the snakes. We are anxious to hear the names of the principal ones." Sauti said, "O thou whose wealth is asceticism, from fear of being lengthy, I shall not mention the names of all the snakes. But I will recite the names of the chief ones. Listen to me! "Sesha was born first, and then Vasuki. (Then were born) Airavata, Takshaka, Karkotaka, Dhananjaya, Kalakeya, the serpent Mani, Purana, Pinjaraka, and Elapatra, Vamana, Nila, Anila, Kalmasha, Savala, Aryaka, Ugra, Kalasapotaka, Suramukha, Dadhimukha, Vimalapindaka, Apta, Karotaka, Samkha, Valisikha, Nisthanaka, Hemaguha, Nahusha, Pingala, Vahyakarna, Hastipada, Mudgarapindaka, Kamvala Aswatara, Kaliyaka, Vritta, Samvartaka, Padma, Mahapadma, Sankhamukha, Kushmandaka, Kshemaka, Pindaraka, Karavira, Pushpadanshtraka, Vilwaka, Vilwapandara, Mushikada, Sankhasiras, Purnabhadra, Haridraka, Aparajita, Jyotika, Srivaha, Kauravya, Dhritarashtra, Sankhapinda, Virajas, Suvahu, Salipinda, Prabhakara, Hastipinda, Pitharaka, Sumuksha, Kaunapashana, Kuthara, Kunjara, Kumuda, Kumudaksha, Tittri, Halika, Kardama, Vahumulaka, Karkara, Akarkara, Kundodara, and Mahodara. "Thus, O best of regenerate ones, have I said the names of the principal serpents. From fear of being tedious I do not give names of the rest. O thou whose wealth is asceticism, the sons of these snakes, with their grandsons, are innumerable. Reflecting upon this, I shall not name them to thee. O best ascetics, in this world the number of snakes baffles calculation, there being many thousands and millions of them." So ends the thirty-fifth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXVI (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "O child, thou hast named many of the serpents gifted with great energy and incapable of being easily overcome. What did they do after hearing of that curse?" Sauti said, "The illustrious Sesha amongst them, of great renown, leaving his mother practised hard penances, living upon air and rigidly observing his vows. He practised these ascetic devotions, repairing to Gandhamadana, Vadri, Gokarna, the woods of Pushkara, and the foot of Himavat. And he passed his days in those sacred regions, some of which were sacred for their water and others for their soil in the rigid observance of his vows, with singleness of aim, and his passions under complete control. And the Grandsire of all, Brahma, saw that ascetic with knotted hair, clad in rags, and his flesh, skin, and sinews dried up owing to the hard penances he was practising. And the Grandsire addressing him, that penance-practising one of great fortitude, said, 'What is that thou doest, O Sesha? Let the welfare of the creatures of the worlds also engage thy thoughts. O sinless one, thou art afflicting all creatures by thy hard penances. O Sesha, tell me the desire implanted in thy breast.' "And Sesha replied, 'My uterine brothers are all of wicked hearts. I do not desire to live amongst them. Let this be sanctioned by thee. Like enemies they are always jealous of one another. I am, therefore, engaged in ascetic devotions. I will not see them even. They never show any kindness for Vinata and her son. Indeed, Vinata's son capable of ranging through the skies, is another brother of ours. They always envy him. And he, too, is much stronger owing to the bestowal of that boon by our father, the high-souled Kasyapa. For these, I engaged in ascetic penances, and I will cast off this body of mine, so that I may avoid companionship with them, even in another state of life.' "Unto Sesha who had said so, the Grandsire said, 'O Sesha, I know the behaviour of all thy brothers and their great danger owing to their offence against their mother. But O Snake, a remedy (for this) hath been provided by me even beforehand. It behoveth thee not to grieve for thy brothers. O Sesha, ask of me the boon thou desirest. I have been highly gratified with thee and I will grant thee today a boon. O best of snakes, it is fortunate that thy heart hath been set on virtue. Let thy heart be more and more firmly set on virtue.' "Then Sesha replied, 'O divine Grandsire, this is the boon desired by me; viz., may my heart always delight in virtue and in blessed ascetic penances, O Lord of all!' "Brahman said, 'O Sesha, I am exceedingly gratified with this thy self- denial and love of peace. But, at my command, let this act be done by thee for the good of my creatures. Bear thou, O Sesha, properly and well this Earth so unsteady with her mountains and forests, her seas and towns and retreats, so that she may be steady.' "Sesha said, 'O divine Lord of all creatures, O bestower of boons, O lord of the Earth, lord of every created thing, lord of the universe, I will, even as thou sayest hold the Earth steady. Therefore, O lord of all creatures, place her on my head.' "Brahman said, 'O best of snakes, go underneath the Earth. She will herself give thee a crevice to pass through. And, O Sesha, by holding the Earth, thou shalt certainly do what is prized by me very greatly.'" Sauti continued, "Then the elder brother of the king of the snakes, entering a hole, passed to the other side of the Earth, and holding her, supported with his head that goddess with her belt of seas passing all round. "Brahman said, 'O Sesha, O best of snakes, thou art the god Dharma, because alone, with thy huge body, thou supportest the Earth with everything on her, even as I myself, or Valavit (Indra), can.'" Sauti continued, "The snake, Sesha, the lord Ananta, of great prowess, lives underneath the Earth, alone supporting the world at the command of Brahman. And the illustrious Grandsire, the best of the immortals, then gave unto Ananta the bird of fair feathers, viz., the son of Vinata, for Ananta's help." So ends the thirty-sixth section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXVII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "That best of snakes, viz., Vasuki, hearing the curse of his mother, reflected how to render it abortive. He held a consultation with all his brothers, Airavata and others, intent upon doing what they deemed best for themselves. "And Vasuki said, 'O ye sinless ones, the object of this curse is known to you. It behoveth us to strive to neutralise it. Remedies certainly exist for all curses, but no remedy can avail those cursed by their mother. Hearing that this curse hath been uttered in the presence of the Immutable, the Infinite, and the True one, my heart trembleth. Surely, our annihilation hath come. Otherwise why should not the Immutable Lord prevent our mother while uttering the curse? Therefore, let us consult today how we may secure the safety of the snakes. Let us not waste time. All of you are wise and discerning. We will consult together and find out the means of deliverance as (did) the gods of yore to regain lost Agni who had concealed himself within a cave, so that Janamejaya's sacrifice for the destruction of the snakes may not take place, and so that we may not meet with destruction.'" Sauti continued, "Thus addressed all the offspring of Kadru assembled together, and, wise in counsels, submitted their opinions to one another. One party of the serpents said, 'We should assume the guise of superior Brahmanas, and beseech Janamejaya, saying, "This (intended) sacrifice of yours ought not to take place."' Other snakes thinking themselves wise, said, 'We should all become his favourite counsellors. He will then certainly ask for our advice in all projects. And we will then give him such advice that the sacrifice may be obstructed. The king, the foremost of wise men, thinking us of sterling worth will certainly ask us about his sacrifice. We will say, "It must not be!" And pointing to many serious evils in this and the next worlds, we will take care that the sacrifice may not take place. Or, let one of the snakes, approaching, bite the person who, intending the monarch's good, and well-acquainted with the rites of the snake-sacrifice, may be appointed as the sacrificial priest, so that he will die. The sacrificial priest dying, the sacrifice will not be completed. We will also bite all those who, acquainted with the rites of the snake-sacrifice, may be appointed Ritwiks of the sacrifice, and by that means attain our object.' Other snakes, more virtuous and kind, said, 'O, this counsel of yours is evil. It is not meet to kill Brahmanas. In danger, that remedy is proper, which is blessed on the practices of the righteous. Unrighteousness finally destroyeth the world.' Other serpents said, 'We will extinguish the blazing sacrificial fire by ourselves becoming clouds luminous with lightning and pouring down showers.' Other snakes, the best of their kind, proposed, 'Going, by night, let us steal away the vessel of Soma juice. That will disturb the rite. Or, at that sacrifice, let the snakes, by hundreds and thousands, bite the people, and spread terror around. Or, let the serpents defile the pure food with their food-defiling urine and dung.' Others said, 'Let us become the king's Ritwiks, and obstruct his sacrifice by saying at the outset, "Give us the sacrificial fee." He (the king), being placed in our power, will do whatever we like.' Others there said, 'When the king will sport in the waters, we will carry him to our home and bind him, so that that sacrifice will not take place!' Other serpents who deemed themselves wise, said, 'Approaching the king, let us bite him, so that our object will be accomplished. By his death the root of all evil will be torn up. This is the final deliberation of us all, O thou who hearest with thy eyes! Then, do speedily what thou deemest proper.' Having said this, they looked intently at Vasuki, that best of snakes. And Vasuki also, after reflecting, answered saying, 'Ye snakes, this final determination of you doth not seem worthy of adoption. The advice of you all is not to my liking. What shall I say which would be for your good? I think the grace of the illustrious Kasyapa (our father) can alone do us good. Ye snakes, my heart doth not know which of all your suggestions is to be adopted for the welfare of my race as also of me. That must be done by me which would be to your weal. It is this that makes me so anxious, for the credit or the discredit (of the measure) is mine alone.'" So ends the thirty-seventh section in the Astika Parva of the Adi Parva. SECTION XXXVIII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Hearing the respective speeches of all the snakes, and hearing also the words of Vasuki, Elapatra began to address them, saying, 'That sacrifice is not one that can be prevented. Nor is king Janamejaya of the Pandava race from whom this fear proceedeth, such that he can be hindered. The person, O king, who is afflicted by fate hath recourse to fate alone; nothing else can be his refuge. Ye best of snakes, this fear of ours hath fate for its root. Fate alone must be our refuge in this. Listen to what I say. When that curse was uttered, ye best of snakes, in fear I lay crouching on the lap of our mother. Ye best of snakes, and O lord (Vasuki) of great splendour, from that place I heard the words the sorrowing gods spake unto the Grandsire. The gods said, "O Grandsire, thou god of gods who else than the cruel Kadru could thus, after getting such dear children, curse them so, even in thy presence? And, O Grandsire, by thee also hath been spoken, with reference to those words of hers, 'Be it so.' We wish to know the reason why thou didst not prevent her." Brahman replied, "The snakes have multiplied. They are cruel, terrible in form and highly poisonous. From desire of the good of my creatures, I did not prevent Kadru then. Those poisonous serpents and others who are sinful, biting others for no faults, shall, indeed, be destroyed, but not they who are harmless and virtuous. And hear also, how, when the hour comes, the snakes may escape this dreadful calamity. There shall be born in the race of the Yayavaras a great Rishi known by the name of Jaratkaru, intelligent, with passions under complete control. That Jaratkaru shall have a son of the name of Astika. He shall put a stop to that sacrifice. And those snakes who shall be virtuous shall escape therefrom." The gods said, "O thou truth-knowing one, on whom will Jaratkaru, that foremost Muni, gifted with great energy and asceticism, beget that illustrious son?" Brahman answered, "Gifted with great energy, that best Brahmana shall beget a son possessed of great energy on a wife of the same name as his. Vasuki, the king of the snakes, hath a sister of the name of Jaratkaru; the son, of whom I speak, shall be born of her, and he shall liberate the snakes."' "Elapatra continued, 'The gods then said unto the Grandsire, "Be it so." And the lord Brahman, having said so unto the gods, went to heaven. O Vasuki, I see before me that sister of thine known by the name of Jaratkaru. For relieving us from fear, give her as alms unto him (i.e., the Rishi), Jaratkaru, of excellent vows, who shall roam abegging for a bride. This means of release hath been heard of by me!'" SECTION XXXIX (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "O best of regenerate ones, hearing these words of Elapatra, all the serpents, in great delight, exclaimed, 'Well said, well said!' And from that time Vasuki set about carefully bringing up that maiden, viz., his sister Jaratkaru. And he took great delight in rearing her. "And much time did not elapse from this, when the gods and the Asuras, assembling together, churned the abode of Varuna. And Vasuki, the foremost of all gifted with strength, became the churning-cord. And directly the work was over, the king of the snakes presented himself before the Grandsire. And the gods, accompanied by Vasuki, addressed the Grandsire, saying, 'O lord, Vasuki is suffering great affliction from fear of (his mother's curse). It behoveth thee to root out the sorrow, begotten of the curse of his mother, that hath pierced the heart of Vasuki desirous of the weal of his race. The king of the snakes is ever our friend and benefactor. O Lord of the gods, be gracious unto him and assuage his mind's fever.' "Brahman replied, 'O ye immortals, I have thought, in my mind, of what ye have said. Let the king of the snakes do that which hath been communicated to him before by Elapatra. The time hath arrived. Those only shall be destroyed that are wicked, not those that are virtuous. Jaratkaru hath been born, and that Brahmana is engaged in hard ascetic penances. Let Vasuki, at the proper time, bestow on him his sister. Ye gods, what hath been spoken by the snake Elapatra for the weal of the snakes is true and not otherwise.'" Sauti continued, "Then the king of the snakes, Vasuki, afflicted with the curse of his mother, hearing these words of the Grandsire, and intending to bestow his sister on the Rishi Jaratkaru, commanded all the serpents, large numbers of whom were ever attentive to their duties, to watch the Rishi Jaratkaru, saying, 'When the lord Jaratkaru will ask for a wife, come immediately and inform me of it. The weal of our race depends upon it.'" SECTION XL (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "O son of Suta, I desire to know the reason why the illustrious Rishi whom thou hast named Jaratkaru came to be so called on earth. It behoveth thee to tell us the etymology of the name Jaratkaru." Sauti said, "Jara is said to mean waste, and Karu implies huge. This Rishi's body had been huge, and he gradually reduced it by severe ascetic penances. For the same reason, O Brahmanas, the sister of Vasuki was called Jaratkaru." The virtuous Saunaka, when he heard this, smiled and addressing Ugrasravas said, "It is even so." Saunaka then said, "I have heard all that thou hast before recited. I desire to know how Astika was born." Sauti, on hearing these words, began to relate according to what was written in the Sastras. Sauti said, "Vasuki, desirous of bestowing his sister upon the Rishi Jaratkaru, gave the snakes (necessary) orders. But days went on, yet that wise Muni of rigid vows, deeply engaged in ascetic devotions, did not seek for a wife. That high-souled Rishi, engaged in studies and deeply devoted to asceticism, his vital seed under full control, fearlessly wandered over the whole earth and had no wish for a wife. "Afterwards, once upon a time, there was a king, O Brahmana, of the name of Parikshit, born in the race of the Kauravas. And, like his great- grandfather Pandu of old, he was of mighty arms, the first of all bearers of bows in battle, and fond of hunting. And the monarch wandered about, hunting deer, and wild boars, and wolves, and buffaloes and various other kinds of wild animals. One day, having pierced a deer with a sharp arrow and slung his bow on his back, he penetrated into the deep forest, searching for the animal here and there, like the illustrious Rudra himself of old pursuing in the heavens, bow in hand, the deer which was Sacrifice, itself turned into that shape, after the piercing. No deer that was pierced by Parikshit had ever escaped in the wood with life. This deer, however wounded as before, fled with speed, as the (proximate) cause of the king's attainment to heaven. And the deer that Parikshit--that king of men--had pierced was lost to his gaze and drew the monarch far away into the forest. And fatigued and thirsty, he came across a Muni, in the forest, seated in a cow-pen and drinking to his fill the froth oozing out of the mouths of calves sucking the milk of their dams. And approaching him hastily, the monarch, hungry and fatigued, and raising his bow, asked that Muni of rigid vows, saying, 'O Brahmana, I am king Parikshit, the son of Abhimanyu. A deer pierced by me hath been lost. Hast thou seen it?' But that Muni observing then the vow of silence, spoke not unto him a word. And the king in anger thereupon placed upon his shoulder a dead snake, taking it up with the end of his bow. The Muni suffered him to do it without protest. And he spoke not a word, good or bad. And the king seeing him in that state, cast off his anger and became sorry. And he returned to his capital but the Rishi continued in the same state. The forgiving Muni, knowing that the monarch who was a tiger amongst kings was true to the duties of his order, cursed him not, though insulted. That tiger amongst monarchs, that foremost one of Bharata's race, also did not know that the person whom he had so insulted was a virtuous Rishi. It was for this that he had so insulted him. "That Rishi had a son by name Sringin, of tender years, gifted with great energy, deep in ascetic penances, severe in his vows, very wrathful, and difficult to be appeased. At times, he worshipped with great attention and respect his preceptor seated with ease on his seat and ever engaged in the good of creatures. "And commanded by his preceptor, he was coming home when, O best of Brahmanas, a companion of his, a Rishi's son named Krisa in a playful mood laughingly spoke unto him. And Sringin, wrathful and like unto poison itself, hearing these words in reference to his father, blazed up in rage. "And Krisa said, 'Be not proud, O Sringin, for ascetic as thou art and possessed of energy, thy father bears on his shoulders a dead snake. Henceforth speak not a word to sons of Rishis like ourselves who have knowledge of the truth, are deep in ascetic penances, and have attained success. Where is that manliness of thine, those high words of thine begotten of pride, when thou must have to behold thy father bearing a dead snake? O best of all the Munis, thy father too had done nothing to deserve this treatment, and it is for this that I am particularly sorry as if the punishment were mine.'" SECTION XLI (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Being thus addressed, and hearing that his sire was bearing a dead snake, the powerful Sringin burned with wrath. And looking at Krisa, and speaking softly, he asked him, 'Pray, why doth my father bear today a dead snake?' And Krisa replied, 'Even as king Parikshit was roving, for purpose of hunting, O dear one, he placed the dead snake on the shoulder of thy sire.' "And Sringin asked, 'What wrong was done to that wicked monarch by my father? O Krisa, tell me this, and witness the power of my asceticism.' "And Krisa answered, 'King Parikshit, the son of Abhimanyu, while hunting, had wounded a fleet stag with an arrow and chased it alone. And the king lost sight of the animal in that extensive wilderness. Seeing then thy sire, he immediately accosted him. Thy sire was then observing the vow of silence. Oppressed by hunger, thirst and labour, the prince again and again asked thy sire sitting motionless, about the missing deer. The sage, being under the vow of silence, returned no reply. The king thereupon placed the snake on thy sire's shoulder with the end of his bow. O Sringin, thy sire engaged in devotion is in the same posture still. And the king also hath gone to his capital which is named after the elephant!'" Sauti continued, "Having heard of a dead snake placed upon his (father's) shoulders, the son of the Rishi, his eyes reddened with anger, blazed up with rage. And possessed by anger, the puissant Rishi then cursed the king, touching water and overcome with wrath. "And Sringin said, 'That sinful wretch of a monarch who hath placed a dead snake on the shoulders of my lean and old parent, that insulter of Brahmanas and tarnisher of the fame of the Kurus, shall be taken within seven nights hence to the regions of Yama (Death) by the snake Takshaka, the powerful king of serpents, stimulated thereto by the strength of my words!'" Sauti continued, "And having thus cursed (the king) from anger, Sringin went to his father, and saw the sage sitting in the cow-pen, bearing the dead snake. And seeing his parent in that plight, he was again inflamed with ire. And he shed tears of grief, and addressed his sire, saying, 'Father, having been informed of this thy disgrace at the hands of that wicked wretch, king Parikshit, I have from anger even cursed him; and that worst of Kurus hath richly deserved my potent curse. Seven days hence, Takshaka, the lord of snakes, shall take the sinful king to the horrible abode of Death.' And the father said to the enraged son, 'Child, I am not pleased with thee. Ascetics should not act thus. We live in the domains of that great king. We are protected by him righteously. In all he does, the reigning king should by the like of us be forgiven. If thou destroy Dharma, verily Dharma will destroy thee. If the king do not properly protect us, we fare very ill; we cannot perform our religious rites according to our desire. But protected by righteous sovereigns, we attain immense merit, and they are entitled to a share thereof. Therefore, reigning royalty is by all means to be forgiven. And Parikshit like unto his great-grandsire, protecteth us as a king should protect his subjects. That penance- practising monarch was fatigued and oppressed with hunger. Ignorant of my vow (of silence) he did this. A kingless country always suffereth from evils. The king punisheth offenders, and fear of punishments to peace; and people do their duties and perform their rites undisturbed. The king establisheth religion--establisheth the kingdom of heaven. The king protecteth sacrifices from disturbance, and sacrifices to please the gods. The gods cause rain, and rain produceth grains and herbs, which are always useful to man. Manu sayeth, a ruler of the destinies of men is equal (in dignity) to ten Veda-studying priests. Fatigued and oppressed with hunger, that penance-practising prince hath done this through ignorance of my vow. Why then hast thou rashly done this unrighteous action through childishness? O son, in no way doth the king deserve a curse from us.'" SECTION XLII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "And Sringin then replied to his father, saying, 'Whether this be an act of rashness, O father, or an improper act that I have done, whether thou likest it or dislikest it, the words spoken by me shall never be in vain. O father, I tell thee (a curse) can never be otherwise. I have never spoken a lie even in jest.' "And Samika said, 'Dear child, I know that thou art of great prowess, and truthful in speech. Thou hast never spoken falsehood before, so that thy curse shall never be falsified. The son, even when he attaineth to age, should yet be always counselled by the father, so that crowned with good qualities he may acquire great renown. A child as thou art, how much more dost thou stand in need of counsel? Thou art ever engaged in ascetic penances. The wrath of even the illustrious ones possessing the six attributes increaseth greatly. O thou foremost of ordinance-observing persons, seeing that thou art my son and a minor too, and beholding also thy rashness, I see that I must counsel thee. Live thou, O son, inclined to peace and eating fruits and roots of the forest. Kill this thy anger and destroy not the fruit of thy ascetic acts in this way. Wrath surely decreaseth the virtue that ascetics acquire with great pains. And then for those deprived of virtue, the blessed state existeth not. Peacefulness ever giveth success to forgiving ascetics. Therefore, becoming forgiving in thy temper and conquering thy passions, shouldst thou always live. By forgiveness shalt thou obtain worlds that are beyond the reach of Brahman himself. Having adopted peacefulness myself, and with a desire also for doing good as much as lies in my power, I must do something; even must I send to that king, telling him, "O monarch, thou hast been cursed by my son of tender years and undeveloped intellect, in wrath, at seeing thy act of disrespect towards myself."'" Sauti continued, "And that great ascetic, observer of vows, moved by kindness, sent with proper instructions a disciple of his to king Parikshit. And he sent his disciple Gaurmukha of good manners and engaged also in ascetic penances, instructing him to first enquire about the welfare of the king and then to communicate the real message. And that disciple soon approached that monarch, the head of the Kuru race. And he entered the king's palace having first sent notice of his arrival through the servant in attendance at the gate. "And the twice-born Gaurmukha was duly worshipped by the monarch. And after resting for a while, he detailed fully to the king, in the presence of his ministers, the words of Samika, of cruel import, exactly as he had been instructed. "And Gaurmukha said, 'O king of kings, there is a Rishi, Samika, by name, of virtuous soul, his passions under control, peaceful, and given up to hard ascetic devotions, living in thy dominions! By thee, O tiger among men, was placed on the shoulders of that Rishi observing at present the vow of silence, a dead snake, with the end of thy bow! He himself forgave thee that act. But his son could not. And by the latter hast thou today been cursed, O king of kings, without the knowledge of his father, to the effect that within seven nights hence, shall (the snake) Takshaka cause thy death. And Samika repeatedly asked his son to save thee, but there is none to falsify his son's curse. And because he hath been unable to pacify his son possessed by anger, therefore have I been sent to thee, O king, for thy good!' "And that king of the Kuru race, himself engaged in ascetic practices, having heard these cruel words and recollecting his own sinful act, became exceedingly sorry. And the king, learning that foremost of Rishis in the forest had been observing the vow of silence, was doubly afflicted with sorrow and seeing the kindness of the Rishi Samika, and considering his own sinful act towards him, the king became very repentant. And the king looking like a very god, did not grieve so much for hearing of his death as for having done that act to the Rishi. "And then the king sent away Gaurmukha, saying, 'Let the worshipful one (Samika) be gracious to me!' And when Gaurmukha had gone away, the king, in great anxiety, without loss of time, consulted his ministers. And having consulted them, the king, himself wise in counsels, caused a mansion to be erected upon one solitary column. It was well-guarded day and night. And for its protection were placed there physicians and medicines, and Brahmanas skilled in mantras all around. And the monarch, protected on all sides, discharged his kingly duties from that place surrounded by his virtuous ministers. And no one could approach that best of kings there. The air even could not go there, being prevented from entering. "And when the seventh day had arrived, that best of Brahmanas, the learned Kasyapa was coming (towards the king's residence), desirous of treating the king (after the snake-bite). He had heard all that had taken place, viz., that Takshaka, that first of snakes, would send that best of monarchs to the presence of Yama (Death). And he thought, 'I would cure the monarch after he is bit by that first of snakes. By that I may have wealth and may acquire virtue also.' But that prince of snakes, Takshaka, in the form of an old Brahmana, saw Kasyapa approaching on his way, his heart set upon curing the king. And the prince of snakes then spake unto that bull among Munis, Kasyapa, saying, 'Whither dost thou go with such speed? What, besides, is the business upon which thou art intent?' "And Kasyapa, thus addressed, replied, 'Takshaka, by his poison, will today burn king Parikshit of the Kuru race, that oppressor of all enemies. I go with speed, O amiable one, to cure, without loss of time, the king of immeasurable prowess, the sole representative of the Pandava race, after he is bit by the same Takshaka like to Agni himself in energy.' And Takshaka answered, 'I am that Takshaka, O Brahmana, who shall burn that lord of the earth. Stop, for thou art unable to cure one bit by me.' And Kasyapa rejoined, 'I am sure that, possessed (that I am) of the power of learning, going thither I shall cure that monarch bit by thee.'" SECTION XLIII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "And Takshaka, after this, answered, 'If, indeed, thou art able to cure any creature bitten by me, then, O Kasyapa, revive thou this tree bit by me. O best of Brahmanas, I burn this banian in thy sight. Try thy best and show me that skill in mantras of which thou hast spoken.' "And Kasyapa said, 'If thou art so minded, bite thou then, O king of snakes, this tree. O snake, I shall revive it, though bit by thee.'" Sauti continued, "That king of snakes, thus addressed by the illustrious Kasyapa, bit then that banian tree. And that tree, bit by the illustrious snake, and penetrated by the poison of the serpent, blazed up all around. And having burnt the banian so, the snake then spake again unto Kasyapa, saying, 'O first of Brahmanas, try thy best and revive this lord of the forest.'" Sauti continued, "The tree was reduced to ashes by the poison of that king of snakes. But taking up those ashes, Kasyapa spoke these words. 'O king of snakes, behold the power of my knowledge as applied to this lord of the forest! O snake, under thy very nose I shall revive it.' And then that best of Brahmanas, the illustrious and learned Kasyapa, revived, by his vidya, that tree which had been reduced to a heap of ashes. And first he created the sprout, then he furnished it with two leaves, and then he made the stem, and then the branches, and then the full-grown tree with leaves and all. And Takshaka, seeing the tree revived by the illustrious Kasyapa, said unto him, 'It is not wonderful in thee that thou shouldst destroy my poison or that of any one else like myself. O thou whose wealth is asceticism, desirous of what wealth, goest thou thither? The reward thou hopest to have from that best of monarchs, even I will give thee, however difficult it may be to obtain it. Decked with fame as thou art, thy success may be doubtful on that king affected by a Brahmana's curse and whose span of life itself hath been shortened. In that case, this blazing fame of thine that hath overspread the three worlds will disappear like the Sun when deprived of his splendour (on the occasion of the eclipse).' "Kasyapa said, 'I go there for wealth, give it unto me, O snake, so that taking thy gold, I may return.' Takshaka replied, 'O best of regenerate ones, even I will give thee more than what thou expectest from that king. Therefore do not go.'" Sauti continued, "That best of Brahmanas, Kasyapa, of great prowess and intelligence, hearing those words of Takshaka, sat in yoga meditation over the king. And that foremost of Munis, viz., Kasyapa, of great prowess and gifted with spiritual knowledge, ascertaining that the period of life of that king of the Pandava race had really run out, returned, receiving from Takshaka as much wealth as he desired. "And upon the illustrious Kasyapa's retracing his steps, Takshaka at the proper time speedily entered the city of Hastinapura. And on his way he heard that the king was living very cautiously, protected by means of poison-neutralising mantras and medicines." Sauti continued, "The snake thereupon reflected thus, 'The monarch must be deceived by me with power of illusion. But what must be the means?' Then Takshaka sent to the king some snakes in the guise of ascetics taking with them fruits, kusa grass, and water (as presents). And Takshaka, addressing them, said, 'Go ye all to the king, on the pretext of pressing business, without any sign of impatience, as if to make the monarch only accept the fruits and flowers and water (that ye shall carry as presents unto him).'" Sauti continued, "Those snakes, thus commanded by Takshaka, acted accordingly. And they took to the king, Kusa grass and water, and fruits. And that foremost of kings, of great prowess, accepted those offerings. And after their business was finished, he said upto them, 'Retire.' Then after those snakes disguised as ascetics had gone away, the king addressed his ministers and friends, saying, 'Eat ye, with me, all these fruits of excellent taste brought by the ascetics.' Impelled by Fate and the words of the Rishi, the king, with his ministers, felt the desire of eating those fruits. The particular fruit, within which Takshaka had entered, was taken by the king himself for eating. And when he was eating it, there appeared, O Saunaka, an ugly insect out of it, of shape scarcely discernible, of eyes black, and of coppery colour. And that foremost of kings, taking that insect, addressed his councillors, saying, 'The sun is setting; today I have no more fear from poison. Therefore, let this insect become Takshaka and bite me, so that my sinful act may be expiated and the words of the ascetic rendered true.' And those councillors also, impelled by Fate, approved of that speech. And then the monarch smiled, losing his senses, his hour having come. And he quickly placed that insect on his neck. And as the king was smiling, Takshaka, who had (in the form of that insect) come out of the fruit that had been offered to the king, coiled himself round the neck of the monarch. And quickly coiling round the king's neck and uttering a tremendous roar, Takshaka, that lord of snakes, bit that protector of the earth." SECTION XLIV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then the councillors beholding the king in the coils of Takshaka, became pale with fear and wept in exceeding grief. And hearing the roar of Takshaka, the ministers all fled. And as they were flying away in great grief, they saw Takshaka, the king of snakes, that wonderful serpent, coursing through the blue sky like a streak of the hue of the lotus, and looking very much like the vermilion-coloured line on a woman's crown dividing the dark masses of her hair in the middle. "And the mansion in which the king was living blazed up with Takshaka's poison. And the king's councillors, on beholding it, fled away in all directions. And the king himself fell down, as if struck by lightning. "And when the king was laid low by Takshaka's poison, his councillors with the royal priest--a holy Brahmana--performed all his last rites. All the citizens, assembling together, made the minor son of the deceased monarch their king. And the people called their new king, that slayer of all enemies, that hero of the Kuru race, by the name of Janamejaya. And that best of monarchs, Janamejaya, though a child, was wise in mind. And with his councillors and priest, the eldest son Parikshita, that bull amongst the Kurus, ruled the kingdom like his heroic great-grand-father (Yudhishthira). And the ministers of the youthful monarch, beholding that he could now keep his enemies in check, went to Suvarnavarman, the king of Kasi, and asked him his daughter Vapushtama for a bride. And the king of Kasi, after due inquiries, bestowed with ordained rites, his daughter Vapushtama on that mighty hero of Kuru race. And the latter, receiving his bride, became exceedingly glad. And he gave not his heart at any time to any other woman. And gifted with great energy, he wandered in pursuit of pleasure, with a cheerful heart, on expanses of water and amid woods and flowery fields. And that first of monarchs passed his time in pleasure as Pururavas of old did, on receiving the celestial damsel Urvasi. Herself fairest of the fair, the damsel Vapushtama too, devoted to her lord and celebrated for her beauty having gained a desirable husband, pleased him by the excess of her affection during the period he spent in the pursuit of pleasure." SECTION XLV (Astika Parva continued) "Meanwhile the great ascetic Jaratkaru wandered over the whole earth making the place where evening fell his home for the night. And gifted with ascetic power, he roamed, practising various vows difficult to be practised by the immature, and bathing also in various sacred waters. And the Muni had air alone for his food and was free from desire of worldly enjoyment. And he became daily emaciated and grew lean-fleshed. And one day he saw the spirits of his ancestors, heads down, in a hole, by a cord of virana roots having only one thread entire. And that even single thread was being gradually eaten away by a large rat dwelling in that hole. And the Pitris in that hole were without food, emaciated, pitiable, and eagerly desirous of salvation. And Jaratkaru, approaching the pitiable ones, himself in humble guise, asked them, 'Who are ye hanging by this cord of virana roots? The single weak root that is still left in this cord of virana roots already eaten away by the rat, dwelling in this hole, is itself being gradually eaten away by the same rat with his sharp teeth. The little that remains of that single thread will soon be cut away. It is clear ye shall then have to fall down into this pit with faces downwards. Seeing you with faces downwards, and overtaken by this great calamity, my pity hath been excited. What good can I do to you. Tell me quickly whether this calamity can be averted by a fourth, a third, or even by the sacrifice of a half of this my asceticism, O, relieve yourselves even with the whole of my asceticism. I consent to all this. Do ye as ye please.' "The Pitris said, 'Venerable Brahmacharin, thou desirest to relieve us. But, O foremost of Brahmanas, thou canst not dispel our affliction by thy asceticism. O child, O first of speakers, we too have the fruits of our asceticism. But, O Brahmana, it is for the loss of children that we are falling down into this unholy hell. The grandsire himself hath said that a son is a great merit. As we are about to be cast in this hole, our ideas are no longer clear. Therefore, O child, we know thee not, although thy manhood is well-known on earth. Venerable thou art and of good fortune, thou who thus from kindness grievest for us worthy of pity and greatly afflicted. O Brahmana, listen, who we are. We are Rishis of the Yayavara sect, of rigid vows. And, O Muni, from loss of children, we have fallen down from a sacred region. Our severe penances have not been destroyed; we have a thread yet. But we have only one thread now. It matters little, however, whether he is or is not. Unfortunate as we are, we have a thread in one, known as Jaratkaru. The unfortunate one has gone through the Vedas and their branches and is practising asceticism alone. He being one with soul under complete control, desires set high, observant of vows, deeply engaged in ascetic penances, and free from greed for the merits of asceticism, we have been reduced to this deplorable state. He hath no wife, no son, no relatives. Therefore, do we hang in this hole, our consciousness lost, like men having none to take care of them. If thou meetest him, O, tell him, from thy kindness to ourselves. "Thy Pitris, in sorrow, are hanging with faces downwards in a hole. Holy one, take a wife and beget children. O thou of ascetic wealth, thou art, O amiable one, the only thread that remaineth in the line of thy ancestors." O Brahmana, the cord of virana roots that thou seest we are hanging by, is the cord representing our multiplied race. And, O Brahmana, these threads of the cord of virana roots that thou seest as eaten away, are ourselves who have been eaten up by Time. This root thou seest hath been half-eaten and by which we are hanging in this hole is he that hath adopted asceticism alone. The rat that thou beholdest is Time of infinite strength. And he (Time) is gradually weakening the wretch Jaratkaru engaged in ascetic penances tempted by the merits thereof, but wanting in prudence and heart. O excellent one, his asceticism cannot save us. Behold, our roots being torn, cast down from higher regions, deprived of consciousness by Time, we are going downwards like sinful wretches. And upon our going down into this hole with all our relatives, eaten up by Time, even he shall sink with us into hell. O child, whether it is asceticism, or sacrifice, or whatever else there be of very holy acts, everything is inferior. These cannot count with a son. O child, having seen all, speak unto that Jaratkaru of ascetic wealth. Thou shouldst tell him in detail everything that thou hast beheld. And, O Brahmana, from thy kindness towards us, thou shouldst tell him all that would induce him to take a wife and beget children. Amongst his friends, or of our own race, who art thou, O excellent one, that thus grievest for us all like a friend? We wish to hear who thou art that stayest here.'" SECTION XLVI (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Jaratkaru, hearing all this, became excessively dejected. And from sorrow he spoke unto those Pitris in words obstructed by tears. And Jaratkaru said, 'Ye are even my fathers and grand-fathers gone before. Therefore, tell me what I must do for your welfare. I am that sinful son of yours, Jaratkaru! Punish me for my sinful deeds, a wretch that I am.' "The Pitris replied, saying, 'O son, by good luck hast thou arrived at this spot in course of thy rambles. O Brahmana, why hast thou not taken a wife?' "Jaratkaru said. 'Ye Pitris, this desire hath always existed in my heart that I would, with vital seed drawn up, carry this body to the other world. My mind hath been possessed with the idea that I would not take a wife. But ye grandsires, having seen you hanging like birds, I have diverted my mind from the Brahmacharya mode of life. I will truly do what you like. I will certainly marry, if ever I meet with a maiden of my own name. I shall accept her who, bestowing herself of her own accord, will be as alms unto me, and whom I shall not have to maintain. I shall marry if I get such a one; otherwise, I shall not. This is the truth, ye grandsires! And the offspring that will be begot upon her shall be your salvation. And ye Pitris of mine, ye shall live for ever in blessedness and without fear.'" Sauti continued, "The Muni, having said so unto the Pitris, wandered over the earth again. And, O Saunaka, being old, he obtained no wife. And he grieved much that he was not successful. But directed (as before) by his ancestors, he continued the search. And going into the forest, he wept loudly in great grief. And having gone into the forest, the wise one, moved by the desire of doing good to his ancestors, said, 'I will ask for a bride,' distinctly repeating these words thrice. And he said, 'Whatever creatures are here, mobile and immobile, so whoever there be that are invisible, O, hear my words! My ancestors, afflicted with grief, have directed me that am engaged in the most severe penances, saying, "Marry thou for (the acquisition of) a son." O ye, being directed by my ancestors, I am roaming in poverty and sorrow, over the wide world for wedding a maiden that I may obtain as alms. Let that creature, amongst those I have addressed, who hath a daughter, bestow on me that am roaming far and near. Such a bride as is of same name with me, to be bestowed on me as alms, and whom, besides, I shall not maintain, O bestow on me!' Then those snakes that had been set upon Jaratkaru's track, ascertaining his inclination, gave information to Vasuki. And the king of the snakes, hearing their words, took with him that maiden decked with ornaments, and went into the forest unto that Rishi. And, O Brahmana, Vasuki, the king of the snakes, having gone there, offered that maiden as alms unto that high- souled Rishi. But the Rishi did not at once accept her. And the Rishi, thinking her not to be of the same name with himself, and seeing that the question of her maintenance also was unsettled, reflected for a few moments, hesitating to accept her. And then, O son of Bhrigu, he asked Vasuki the maiden's name, and also said unto him, 'I shall not maintain her.'" SECTION XLVII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then Vasuki spake unto the Rishi Jaratkaru these words, 'O best of Brahmanas, this maiden is of the same name with thee. She is my sister and hath ascetic merit. I will maintain thy wife; accept her. O thou of ascetic wealth, I shall protect her with all my ability. And, O foremost of the great Munis, she hath been reared by me for thee.' And the Rishi replied, 'This is agreed between us that I shall not maintain her; and she shall not do aught that I do not like. If she do, I leave her!'" Sauti continued, "When the snake had promised, saying, 'I shall maintain my sister,' Jaratkaru then went to the snake's house. Then that first of mantra-knowing Brahmanas, observing rigid vows, that virtuous and veteran ascetic, took her hand presented to him according to shastric rites. And taking his bride with him, adored by the great Rishi, he entered the delightful chamber set apart for him by the king of the snakes. And in that chamber was a bed-stead covered with very valuable coverlets. And Jaratkaru lived there with his wife. And the excellent Rishi made an agreement with his wife, saying, 'Nothing must ever be done or said by thee that is against my liking. And in case of thy doing any such thing, I will leave thee and no longer continue to stay in thy house. Bear in mind these words that have been spoken by me.' "And then the sister of the king of the snakes in great anxiety and grieving exceedingly, spoke unto him, saying, 'Be it so.' And moved by the desire of doing good to her relatives, that damsel, of unsullied reputation, began to attend upon her lord with the wakefulness of a dog, the timidity of a deer, and knowledge of signs possessed by the crow. And one day, after the menstrual period, the sister of Vasuki, having purified herself by a bath according to custom, approached her lord the great Muni. And thereupon she conceived. And the embryo was like unto a flame of fire, possessed of great energy, and resplendent as fire itself. And it grew like the moon in the bright fortnight. "And one day, within a short time, Jaratkaru of great fame, placing his head on the lap of his wife, slept, looking like one fatigued. And as he was sleeping, the sun entered his chambers in the Western mountain and was about to set. And, O Brahmana, as the day was fading, she, the excellent sister of Vasuki, became thoughtful, fearing the loss of her husband's virtue. And she thought, 'What should I now do? Shall I wake my husband or not? He is exacting and punctilious in his religious duties. How can I act as not to offend him? The alternatives are his anger and the loss of virtue of a virtuous man. The loss of virtue, I ween, is the greater of the two evils. Again, if I wake him, he will be angry. But if twilight passeth away without his prayers being said, he shall certainly sustain loss of virtue.' "And having resolved at last, the sweet-speeched Jaratkaru, the sister of Vasuki, spake softly unto that Rishi resplendent with ascetic penances, and lying prostrate like a flame of fire, 'O thou of great good fortune, awake, the sun is setting. O thou of rigid vows, O illustrious one, do your evening prayer after purifying yourself with water and uttering the name of Vishnu. The time for the evening sacrifice hath come. Twilight, O lord, is even now gently covering the western side.' "The illustrious Jaratkaru of great ascetic merit, thus addressed, spake unto his wife these words, his upper lip quivering in anger, 'O amiable one of the Naga race, thou hast insulted me. I shall no longer abide with thee, but shall go where I came from. O thou of beautiful thighs, I believe in my heart that the sun hath no power to set in the usual time, if I am asleep. An insulted person should never live where he hath met with the insult, far less should I, a virtuous person, or those that are like me.' Jaratkaru, the sister of Vasuki, thus addressed by her lord, began to quake with terror, and she spake unto him, saying, 'O Brahmana, I have not waked thee from desire of insult; but I have done it so that thy virtue may not sustain any loss.' "The Rishi Jaratkaru, great in ascetic merit, possessed with anger and desirous of forsaking his spouse, thus addressed, spake unto his wife, saying, 'O thou fair one, never have I spoken a falsehood. Therefore, go I shall. This was also settled between ourselves. O amiable one, I have passed the time happily with thee. And, O fair one, tell thy brother, when I am gone, that I have left thee. And upon my going away, it behoveth thee not to grieve for me.' "Thus addressed Jaratkaru, the fair sister of Vasuki, of faultless features, filled with anxiety and sorrow, having mustered sufficient courage and patience, though her heart was still quaking, then spake unto Rishi Jaratkaru. Her words were obstructed with tears and her face was pale with fear. And the palms of her hands were joined together, and her eyes were bathed in tears. And she said, 'It behoveth thee not to leave me without a fault. Thou treadest over the path of virtue. I too have been in the same path, with heart fixed on the good of my relatives. O best of Brahmanas, the object for which I was bestowed on thee hath not been accomplished yet. Unfortunate that I am, what shall Vasuki say unto me? O excellent one, the offspring desired of by my relatives afflicted by a mother's curse, do not yet appear! The welfare of my relatives dependeth on the acquisition of offspring from thee. And in order that my connection with thee may not be fruitless, O illustrious Brahmana, moved by the desire of doing good to my race do I entreat thee. O excellent one, high- souled thou art; so why shall thou leave me who am faultless? This is what is not just clear to me.' "Thus addressed, the Muni of great ascetic merit spake unto his wife Jaratkaru these words that were proper and suitable to the occasion. And he said, 'O fortunate one, the being thou hast conceived, even like unto Agni himself is a Rishi of soul highly virtuous, and a master of the Vedas and their branches.' "Having said so, the great Rishi, Jaratkaru of virtuous soul, went away, his heart firmly fixed on practising again the severest penances." SECTION XLVIII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "O thou of ascetic wealth, soon after her lord had left her, Jaratkaru went to her brother. And she told him everything that had happened. And the prince of snakes, hearing the calamitous news, spake unto his miserable sister, himself more miserable still. "And he said, 'Thou knowest, O amiable one, the purpose of thy bestowal, the reason thereof. If, from that union, for the welfare of the snakes, a son be born, then he, possessed of energy, will save us all from the snake- sacrifice. The Grandsire had said so, of old, in the midst of the gods. O fortunate one, hast thou conceived from thy union with that best of Rishis? My heart's desire is that my bestowal of thee on that wise one may not be fruitless. Truly, it is not proper for me to ask thee about this. But from the gravity of the interests I ask thee this. Knowing also the obstinacy of thy lord, ever engaged in severe penances, I shall not follow him, for he may curse me. Tell me in detail all that thy lord, O amiable one, hath done, and extract that terribly afflicting dart that lies implanted for a long time past in my heart.' "Jaratkaru, thus addressed, consoling Vasuki, the king of the snakes, at length replied, saying, 'Asked by me about offspring, the high-souled and mighty ascetic said, "There is,"--and then he went away. I do not remember him to have ever before speak even in jest aught that is false. Why should he, O king, speak a falsehood on such a serious occasion? He said, "Thou shouldst not grieve, O daughter of the snake race, about the intended result of our union. A son shall be born to thee, resplendent as the blazing sun." O brother, having said this to me, my husband of ascetic wealth went away--Therefore, let the deep sorrow cherished in thy heart disappear.'" Sauti continued, "Thus addressed, Vasuki, the king of the snakes, accepted those words of his sister, and in great joy said, 'Be it so!' And the chief of the snakes then adored his sister with his best regards, gift of wealth, and fitting eulogies. Then, O best of Brahmanas, the embryo endued with great splendour, began to develop, like the moon in the heavens in the bright fortnight. "And in due time, the sister of the snakes, O Brahmana, gave birth to a son of the splendour of a celestial child, who became the reliever of the fears of his ancestors and maternal relatives. The child grew up there in the house of the king of the snakes. He studied the Vedas and their branches with the ascetic Chyavana, the son of Bhrigu. And though but a boy, his vows were rigid. And he was gifted with great intelligence, and with the several attributes of virtue, knowledge, freedom from the world's indulgences, and saintliness. And the name by which he was known to the world was Astika. And he was known by the name of Astika (whoever is) because his father had gone to the woods, saying. 'There is', when he was in the womb. Though but a boy, he had great gravity and intelligence. And he was reared with great care in the palace of the snakes. And he was like the illustrious lord of the celestials, Mahadeva of the golden form, the wielder of the trident. And he grew up day by day, the delight of all the snakes." SECTION XLIX (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "Tell me again, in detail,--all that king Janamejaya had asked his ministers about his father's ascension to heaven." Sauti said, "O Brahmana, hear all that the king asked his ministers, and all that they said about the death of Parikshit. "Janamejaya asked, 'Know ye all that befell my father. How did that famous king, in time, meet with his death? Hearing from you the incidents of my father's life in detail, I shall ordain something, if it be for the benefit of the world. Otherwise, I shall do nothing.' "The minister replied, 'Hear, O monarch, what thou hast asked, viz., an account of thy illustrious father's life, and how also that king of kings left this world. Thy father was virtuous and high-souled, and always protected his people. O monarch, hear, how that high-souled one conducted himself on earth. Like unto an impersonation of virtue and justice, the monarch, cognisant of virtue, virtuously protected the four orders, each engaged in the discharge of their specified duties. Of incomparable prowess, and blessed with fortune, he protected the goddess Earth. There was none who hated him and he himself hated none. Like unto Prajapati (Brahma) he was equally disposed towards all creatures. O monarch, Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, all engaged contentedly in the practice of their respective duties, were impartially protected by that king. Widows and orphans, the maimed and the poor, he maintained. Of handsome features, he was unto all creatures like a second Soma. Cherishing his subjects and keeping them contented, blessed with good fortune, truth- telling, of immense prowess, he was the disciple of Saradwat in the science of arms. And, O Janamejaya, thy father was dear unto Govinda. Of great fame, he was loved by all men. And he was born in the womb of Uttara when the Kuru race was almost extinct. And, therefore, the mighty son of Abhimanyu came to be called Parikshit (born in an extinct line). Well- versed in the interpretation of treatises on the duties of kings, he was gifted with every virtue. With passions under complete control, intelligent, possessing a retentive memory, the practiser of all virtues, the conqueror of his six passions of powerful mind, surpassing all, and fully acquainted with the science of morality and political science, thy father had ruled over these subjects for sixty years. And he then died, mourned by all his subjects. And, after him, O first of men, thou hast acquired this hereditary kingdom of the Kurus for the last thousand years. Thou wast installed while a child, and art thus protecting every creature.' "Janamejaya said, 'There hath not been born in our race a king who hath not sought the good of his subjects or been loved by them. Behold especially the conduct of my grandsires ever engaged in great achievements. How did my father, blessed with many virtues, meet with his death? Describe everything to me as it happened. I am desirous of hearing it from you!'" Sauti continued, "Thus directed by the monarch, those councillors, ever solicitous of the good of the king, told him everything exactly as it had occurred. "And the councillors said, 'O king, that father of thine, that protector of the whole earth, that foremost of all persons obedient to the scriptures, became addicted to the sports of the field, even as Pandu of mighty arms, that foremost of all bearers of the bow in battle. He made over to us all the affairs of state from the most trivial to the most important. One day, going into the forest, he pierced a deer with an arrow. And having pierced it he followed it quickly on foot into the deep woods, armed with sword and quiver. He could not, however, come upon the lost deer. Sixty years of age and decrepit, he was soon fatigued and became hungry. He then saw in the deep woods a high-souled Rishi. The Rishi was then observing the vow of silence. The king asked him about the deer, but, though asked, he made no reply. At last the king, already tired with exertion and hunger, suddenly became angry with that Rishi sitting motionless like a piece of wood in observance of his vow of silence. Indeed, the king knew not that he was a Muni observing the vow of silence. Swayed by anger, thy father insulted him. O excellent one of the Bharata race, the king, thy father taking up from the ground with the end of his bow a dead snake placed it on the shoulders of that Muni of pure soul. But the Muni spake not a word good or bad and was without anger. He continued in the same posture, bearing the dead snake.'" SECTION L (Astika Parva continued) Sauti continued, "The ministers said, 'That king of kings then, spent with hunger and exertion, and having placed the snake upon the shoulders of that Muni, came back to his capital. The Muni had a son, born of a cow, of the name of Sringin. He was widely known, possessed of great prowess and energy, and very wrathful. Going (every day) to his preceptor he was in the habit of worshipping him. Commanded by him, Sringin was returning home, when he heard from a friend of his about the insult of his father by thy parent. And, O tiger among kings, he heard that his father, without having committed any fault, was bearing, motionless like a statue, upon his shoulders a dead snake placed thereon. O king, the Rishi insulted by thy father was severe in ascetic penances, the foremost of Munis, the controller of passions, pure, and ever engaged in wonderful acts. His soul was enlightened with ascetic penances, and his organs and their functions were under complete control. His practices and his speech were both very nice. He was contented and without avarice. He was without meanness of any kind and without envy. He was old and used to observe the vow of silence. And he was the refuge whom all creatures might seek in distress. "'Such was the Rishi insulted by thy father. The son, however, of that Rishi, in wrath, cursed thy father. Though young in years, the powerful one was old in ascetic splendour. Speedily touching water, he spake, burning as it were with spiritual energy and rage, these words in allusion to thy father, "Behold the power of my asceticism! Directed by my words, the snake Takshaka of powerful energy and virulent poison, shall, within seven nights hence, burn with his poison the wretch that hath placed the dead snake upon my un-offending father." And having said this, he went to where his father was. And seeing his father he told him of his curse. The tiger among Rishis thereupon sent to thy father a disciple of his, named Gaurmukha, of amiable manners and possessed of every virtue. And having rested a while (after arrival at court) he told the king everything, saying in the words of his master, "Thou hast been cursed, O king, by my son. Takshaka shall burn thee with his poison! Therefore, O king, be careful." O Janamejaya, hearing those terrible words, thy father took every precaution against the powerful snake Takshaka. "'And when the seventh day had arrived, a Brahmana Rishi, named Kasyapa, desired to come to the monarch. But the snake Takshaka saw Kasyapa. And the prince of snakes spake unto Kasyapa without loss of time, saying, "Where dost thou go so quickly, and what is the business on which thou goest?" Kasyapa replied, saying, "O Brahmana, I am going whither king Parikshit, that best of the Kurus, is. He shall today be burnt by the poison of the snake Takshaka. I go there quickly in order to cure him, in fact, in order that, protected by me, the snake may not bite him to death." Takshaka answered, saying, "Why dost thou seek to revive the king to be bitten by me? I am that Takshaka. O Brahmana, behold the wonderful power of my poison. Thou art incapable of reviving that monarch when bit by me." So saying, Takshaka, then and there, bit a lord of the forest (a banian tree). And the banian, as soon as it was bit by the snake, was converted into ashes. But Kasyapa, O king, revived it. Takshaka thereupon tempted him, saying, "Tell me thy desire." And Kasyapa, too, thus addressed, spake again unto Takshaka, saying, "I go there from desire of wealth." And Takshaka, thus addressed, then spake unto the high-souled Kasyapa in these soft words, "O sinless one, take from me more wealth than what thou expectest from that monarch, and go back!" And Kasyapa, that foremost of men, thus addressed by the snake, and receiving from him as much wealth as he desired, wended his way back. "'And Kasyapa going back, Takshaka, approaching in disguise, blasted, with the fire of his poison, thy virtuous father, the first of kings, then staying in his mansion with all precautions. And after that, thou hast, O tiger among men, been installed (on the throne). And, O best of monarchs, we have thus told thee all that we have seen and heard, cruel though the account is. And hearing all about the discomfiture of thy royal father, and of the insult to the Rishi Utanka, decide thou that which should follow!'" Sauti continued, "King Janamejaya, that chastiser of enemies, then spake upto all his ministers. And he said, 'When did ye learn all that happened upon that banian reduced to ashes by Takshaka, and which, wonderful as it is, was afterwards revived by Kasyapa? Assuredly, my father could not have died, for the poison could have been neutralised by Kasyapa with his mantras. That worst of snakes, of sinful soul, thought within his mind that if Kasyapa resuscitated the king bit by him, he, Takshaka, would be an object of ridicule in the world owing to the neutralisation of his poison. Assuredly, having thought so, he pacified the Brahmana. I have devised a way, however, of inflicting punishment upon him. I like to know, however, what ye saw or heard, what happened in the deep solitude of the forest,--viz., the words of Takshaka and the speeches of Kasyapa. Having known it, I shall devise the means of exterminating the snake race.' "The ministers said, 'Hear, O monarch of him who told us before of the meeting between that foremost Brahmana and that prince of snakes in the woods. A certain person, O monarch, had climbed up that tree containing some dry branches with the object of breaking them for sacrificial fuel. He was not perceived either by the snake or by the Brahmana. And, O king, that man was reduced to ashes along with the tree itself. And, O king of kings, he was revived with the tree by the power of the Brahmana. That man, a Brahmana's menial, having come to us, represented fully everything as it happened between Takshaka and the Brahmana. Thus have we told thee, O king, all that we have seen and heard. And having heard it, O tiger among kings, ordain that which should follow.'" Sauti continued, "King Janamejaya, having listened to the words of his ministers, was sorely afflicted with grief, and began to weep. And the monarch began to squeeze his hands. And the lotus-eyed king began to breathe a long and hot breath, shed tears, and shrieked aloud. And possessed with grief and sorrow, and shedding copious tears, and touching water according to the form, the monarch spake. And reflecting for a moment, as if settling something in his mind, the angry monarch, addressing all ministers, said these words. "'I have heard your account of my father's ascension to heaven. Know ye now what my fixed resolve is. I think no time must be lost in avenging this injury upon the wretch Takshaka that killed my father. He burnt my father making Sringin only a secondary cause. From malignity alone he made Kasyapa return. If that Brahmana had arrived, my father assuredly would have lived. What would he have lost if the king had revived by the grace of Kasyapa and the precautionary measures of his ministers? From ignorance of the effects of my wrath, he prevented Kasyapa--that excellent of Brahmanas--whom he could not defeat, from coming to my father with the desire of reviving him. The act of aggression is great on the part of the wretch Takshaka who gave wealth unto that Brahmana in order that he might not revive the king. I must now avenge myself on my father's enemy to please myself, the Rishi Utanka and you all.'" SECTION LI (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "King Janamejaya having said so, his ministers expressed their approbation. And the monarch then expressed his determination to perform a snake-sacrifice. And that lord of the Earth--that tiger of the Bharata race--the son of Parikshit, then called his priest and Ritwiks. And accomplished in speech, he spake unto them these words relating to the accomplishment of his great task. 'I must avenge myself on the wretch Takshaka who killed my father. Tell me what I must do. Do you know any act by which I may cast into the blazing fire the snake Takshaka with his relatives? I desire to burn that wretch even as he burnt, of yore, by the fire of his poison, my father.' "The chief priest answered, 'There is, O king, a great sacrifice for thee devised by the gods themselves. It is known as the snake-sacrifice, and is read of in the Puranas. O king, thou alone canst accomplish it, and no one else. Men versed in the Puranas have told us, there is such a sacrifice.'" Sauti continued, "Thus addressed, the king, O excellent one, thought Takshaka to be already burnt and thrown into the blazing mouth of Agni, the eater of the sacrificial butter. The king then said unto those Brahmanas versed in mantras, 'I shall make preparations for that sacrifice. Tell me the things that are necessary.' And the king's Ritwiks, O excellent Brahmana, versed in the Vedas and acquainted with the rites of that sacrifice measured, according to the scriptures, the land for the sacrificial platform. And the platform was decked with valuable articles and with Brahmanas. And it was full of precious things and paddy. And the Ritwika sat upon it at ease. And after the sacrificial platform had been thus constructed according to rule and as desired, they installed the king at the snake-sacrifice for the attainment of its object. And before the commencement of the snake-sacrifice that was to come, there occurred this very important incident foreboding obstruction to the sacrifice. For when the sacrificial platform was being constructed, a professional builder of great intelligence and well-versed in the knowledge of laying foundations, a Suta by caste, well-acquainted with the Puranas, said, 'The soil upon which and the time at which the measurement for the sacrificial platform has been made, indicate that this sacrifice will not be completed, a Brahmana becoming the reason thereof.' Hearing this, the king, before his installation, gave orders to his gate-keepers not to admit anybody without his knowledge." SECTION LII (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "The snake-sacrifice then commenced according to due form. And the sacrificial priests, competent in their respective duties according to the ordinance, clad in black garments and their eyes red from contact with smoke, poured clarified butter into the blazing fire, uttering the appropriate mantras. And causing the hearts of all the snakes to tremble with fear, they poured clarified butter into the mouth of Agni uttering the names of the snakes. And the snakes thereupon began to fall into the blazing fire, benumbed and piteously calling upon one another. And swollen and breathing hard, and twining each other with their heads and tails, they came in large numbers and fell into the fire. The white, the black, the blue, the old and the young--all fell alike into the fire, uttering various cries. Those measuring a krosa, and those measuring a yojana, and those of the measure of a gokarna, fell continuously with great violence into that first of all fires. And hundreds and thousands and tens of thousands of snakes, deprived of all control over their limbs, perished on that occasion. And amongst those that perished, there were some that were like horses, other like trunks of elephants, and others of huge bodies and strength like maddened elephants Of various colours and virulent poison, terrible and looking like maces furnished with iron- spikes, of great strength, ever inclined to bite, the snakes, afflicted with their mother's curse, fell into the fire." SECTION LIII (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka asked, "What great Rishis became the Ritwiks at the snake- sacrifice of the wise king Janamejaya of the Pandava line? Who also became the Sadasyas in that terrible snake-sacrifice, so frightful to the snakes, and begetting such sorrow in them? It behoveth thee to describe all these in detail, so that, O son of Suta, we may know who were acquainted with the rituals of the snake-sacrifice." Sauti replied, "I will recite the names of those wise ones who became the monarch's Ritwiks and Sadasyas. The Brahmana Chandabhargava became the Hotri in that sacrifice. He was of great reputation, and was born in the race of Chyavana and was the foremost of those acquainted with the Vedas. The learned old Brahmana, Kautsa, became the Udgatri, the chanter of the Vedic hymns. Jaimini became the Brahmana, and Sarngarva and Pingala the Adhvaryus, Vyasa with his son and disciples, and Uddalaka, Pramataka, Swetaketu, Pingala, Asita, Devala, Narada, Parvata, Atreya, Kundajathara, the Brahmana Kalaghata, Vatsya, old Srutasravas ever engaged in japa and the study of the Vedas, Kohala Devasarman, Maudgalya, Samasaurava, and many other Brahmanas who had got through the Vedas became the Sadasyas at that sacrifice of the son of Parikshit. "When the Ritwiks in that snake-sacrifice began to pour clarified butter into the fire, terrible snakes, striking fear into every creature, began to fall into it. And the fat and the marrow of the snakes thus falling into the fire began to flow in rivers. And the atmosphere was filled with an insufferable stench owing to the incessant burning of the snakes. And incessant also were the cries of the snakes fallen into the fire and those in the air about to fall into it. "Meanwhile, Takshaka, that prince of snakes, as soon as he heard that king Janamejaya was engaged in the sacrifice, went to the palace of Purandara (Indra). And that best of snakes, having represented all that had taken place, sought in terror the protection of Indra after having acknowledged his fault. And Indra, gratified, told him, 'O prince of snakes, O Takshaka, here thou hast no fear from that snake-sacrifice. The Grandsire was pacified by me for thy sake. Therefore, thou hast no fear. Let this fear of thy heart be allayed.'" Sauti continued, "Thus encouraged by him, that best of snakes began to dwell in Indra's abode in joy and happiness. But Vasuki, seeing that the snakes were incessantly falling into the fire and that his family was reduced to only a few, became exceedingly sorry. And the king of the snakes was afflicted with great grief, and his heart was about to break. And summoning his sister, he spake unto her, saying, 'O amiable one, my limbs are burning and I no longer see the points of the heavens. I am about to fall down from loss of consciousness. My mind is turning, my sight is falling and my heart is breaking. Benumbed, I may fall today into that blazing fire! This sacrifice of the son of Parikshit is for the extermination of our race. It is evident I also shall have to go to the abode of the king of the dead. The time is come, O my sister, on account of which thou wert bestowed by me on Jaratkaru to protect us with our relatives. O best of the women of the snake race, Astika will put an end to the sacrifice that is going on. The Grandsire told me this of old. Therefore, O child, solicit thy dear son who is fully conversant with the Vedas and regarded even by the old, for the protection of myself and also of those dependent on me."' SECTION LIV (Astika Parva continued) Sauti said, "Then the snake-dame Jaratkaru, calling her own son, told him the following words according to the directions of Vasuki, the king of the snakes. 'O son, the time is come for the accomplishment of that object for which I was bestowed on thy father by my brother. Therefore, do thou that which should be done.' "Astika asked, 'Why wert thou, O mother, bestowed on my father by my uncle? Tell me all truly so that on hearing it, I may do what is proper.' "Then Jaratkaru, the sister of the king of the snakes, herself unmoved by the general distress, and even desirous of the welfare of her relatives, said unto him, 'O son, it is said that the mother of all the snakes is Kadru. Know thou why she cursed in anger her sons. Addressing the snakes she said, "As ye have refused to falsely represent Uchchaihsravas, the prince of horses, for bringing about Vinata's bondage according to the wager, therefore, shall he whose charioteer is Vayu burn you all in Janamejaya's sacrifice. And perishing in that sacrifice, ye shall go to the region of the unredeemed spirits." The Grandsire of all the worlds spake unto her while uttering this curse, "Be it so," and thus approved of her speech. Vasuki, having heard that curse and then the words of the Grandsire, sought the protection of the gods, O child, on the occasion when the amrita was being churned for. And the gods, their object fulfilled, for they had obtained the excellent amrita, with Vasuki ahead, approached the Grandsire. And all the gods, with king Vasuki, sought to incline Him who was born of the lotus to be propitious, so that the curse might be made abortive. "'And the gods said, "O Lord, Vasuki, the king of the snakes, is sorry on account of his relatives. How may his mother's curse prove abortive?" "'Brahman thereupon replied, saying, "Jaratkaru will take unto himself a wife of the name of Jaratkaru; the Brahmana born of her will relieve the snakes." "'Vasuki, the best of snakes, hearing those words, bestowed me, O thou of godlike looks, on thy high-souled father some time before the commencement of the sacrifice. And from that marriage thou art born of me. That time has come. It behoveth thee to protect us from this danger. It behoveth thee to protect my brother and myself from the fire, so that the object, viz., our relief, for which I was bestowed on thy wise father, may not be unfulfilled. What dost thou think, O son?'" Sauti continued, "Thus addressed, Astika said unto his mother, 'Yes, I will.' And he then addressed the afflicted Vasuki, and as if infusing life into him, said, 'O Vasuki, thou best of snakes, thou great being, truly do I say, I shall relieve thee from that curse. Be easy, O snake! There is no fear any longer. I shall strive earnestly so that good may come! Nobody hath ever said that my speech, even in jest, hath proved false. Hence on serious occasions like this, I need not say anything more, O uncle, going thither today I shall gratify, with words mixed with blessings, the monarch Janamejaya installed at the sacrifice, so that, O excellent one, the sacrifice may stop. O highminded one, O king of the snakes, believe all that I say. Believe me, my resolve can never be unfulfilled.' "And Vasuki then said, 'O Astika, my head swims and my heart breaks. I cannot discern the points of the earth, as I am afflicted with a mother's curse.' "And Astika said, 'Thou best of snakes, it behoveth thee not to grieve any longer. I shall dispel this fear of thine from the blazing fire. This terrible punishment, capable of burning like the fire at the end of the Yuga, I shall extinguish. Nurse not thy fear any longer.'" Sauti continued, "Then that best of Brahmanas, Astika, quelling the terrible fear of the Vasuki's heart, and taking it, as it were, on himself, wended, for the relief of the king of the snakes, with speed to Janamejaya's sacrifice blessed with every merit. And Astika having gone thither, beheld the excellent sacrificial compound with numerous Sadasyas on it whose splendour was like unto that of the Sun or Agni. But that best of Brahmanas was refused admittance by the door-keepers. And the mighty ascetic gratified them, being desirous of entering the sacrificial compound. And that best of Brahmanas, that foremost of all virtuous men, having entered the excellent sacrificial compound, began to adore the king of infinite achievements, Ritwiks, the Sadasyas, and also the sacred fire." SECTION LV (Astika Parva continued) "Astika said, 'Soma and Varuna and Prajapati performed sacrifices of old in Prayaga. But thy sacrifice, O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Parikshit, is not inferior to any of those. Let those dear unto us be blessed! Sakra performed a hundred sacrifices. But this sacrifice of thine, O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Parikshit, is fully equal to ten thousand sacrifices of Sakra. Let those dear unto us be blessed! Like the sacrifice of Yama, of Harimedha, or of king Rantideva, is the sacrifice of thine, O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Parikshit. Let those dear unto us be blessed! Like the sacrifice of Maya, of king Sasavindu, or of king Vaisravana, is this sacrifice of thine, O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Satyavati, in which he himself was the chief priest, is this sacrifice of Nriga, of Ajamida, of the son of Dasaratha, is this sacrifice of thine, O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Parikshit. Let those dear unto us be blessed! Like the sacrifice of king Yudhishthira, the son of a god and belonging to Ajamida race, heard of (even) in the heavens, is this sacrifice of thine. O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Parikshit, let those dear unto us be blessed! Like the sacrifice of Krishna (Dwaipayana), the son of Satyavati, in which he himself was the chief priest, is this sacrifice of thine, O foremost one of Bharata's race, O son of Parikshit. Let those dear unto us be blessed! These (Ritwiks and Sadasyas) that are here engaged in making thy sacrifice, like unto that of the slayer of Vritra, are of splendour equal to that of the sun. There now remains nothing for them to know, and gifts made to them become inexhaustible (in merit). It is my conviction that there is no Ritwik in all the worlds who is equal to thy Ritwik, Dwaipayana. His disciples, becoming Ritwiks, competent for their duties, travel over the earth. The high-souled bearer of libation (viz., Agni), called also Vibhavasu and Chitrabhanu, having gold for his vital seed and having his path, marked by black smoke, blazing up with flames inclined to the right, beareth these thy libations of clarified butter to the gods. In this world of men there is no other monarch equal to thee in the protection of subjects. I am ever well-pleased with thy abstinence. Indeed, thou art either Varuna, or Yama, the god of Justice. Like Sakra himself, thunderbolt in hand, thou art, in this world, the protector of all creatures. In this earth there is no man so great as thou and no monarch who is thy equal in sacrifice. Thou art like Khatwanga, Nabhaga, and Dilipa. In prowess thou art like Yayati and Mandhatri. In splendour equal to the sun, and of excellent vows, thou art O monarch, like Bhishma! Like Valmiki thou art of energy concealed. Like Vasishtha thou hast controlled thy wrath. Like Indra is thy lordship. Thy splendour also shines like that of Narayana. Like Yama art thou conversant with the dispensation of justice. Thou art like Krishna adorned with every virtue. Thou art the home of the good fortune that belongs to the Vasus. Thou art also the refuge of the sacrifices. In strength thou art equal to Damvodbhava. Like Rama (the son of Jamadagni) thou art conversant with the scriptures and arms. In energy thou art equal to Aurva and Trita. Thou inspirest terror by thy looks like Bhagiratha.'" Sauti said, "Astika, having thus adored them, gratified them all, viz., the king, the Sadasyas, the Ritwiks and the sacrificial fire. And king Janamejaya beholding the signs and indications manifested all around, addressed them as follows." SECTION LVI (Astika Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'Though this one is but a boy, he speaks yet like a wise old man. He is not a boy but one wise and old. I think, I desire to bestow on him a boon. Therefore, ye Brahmanas, give me the necessary permission.' "The Sadasyas said, 'A Brahmana, though a boy, deserves the respect of kings. The learned ones do more so. This boy deserves every desire of his being fulfilled by thee, but not before Takshaka comes with speed.'" Sauti continued, "The king, being inclined to grant the Brahmana a boon, said 'Ask thou a boon.' The Hotri, however, being rather displeased, said, 'Takshaka hath not come as yet into this sacrifice.' "Janamejaya replied, 'Exert ye to the best of your might, so that this sacrifice of mine may attain completion, and Takshaka also may soon come here. He is my enemy.' "The Ritwiks replied, 'As the scriptures declare unto us, and as the fire also saith, O monarch, (it seems that) Takshaka is now staying in the abode of Indra, afflicted with fear.'" Sauti continued, "The illustrious Suta named Lohitaksha also, conversant with the Puranas, had said so before. "Asked by the king on the present occasion he again told the monarch, 'Sire, it is even so as the Brahmanas have said--Knowing the Puranas, I say, O monarch, that Indra hath granted him this boon, saying, "Dwell with me in concealment, and Agni shall not burn thee."'" Sauti continued, "Hearing this, the king installed in the sacrifice became very sorry and urged the Hotri to do his duty. And as the Hotri, with mantras, began to pour clarified butter into the fire Indra himself appeared on the scene. And the illustrious one came in his car, adorned by all the gods standing around, followed by masses of clouds, celestial singers, and the several bevies of celestial dancing girls. And Takshaka anxious with fear, hid himself in the upper garment of Indra and was not visible. Then the king in his anger again said unto his mantra-knowing Brahmanas these words, bent upon the destruction of Takshaka, 'If the snake Takshaka be in the abode of Indra, cast him into the fire with Indra himself.'" Sauti continued, "Urged thus by the king Janamejaya about Takshaka, the Hotri poured libations, naming that snake then staying there. And even as the libations were poured, Takshaka, with Purandara himself, anxious and afflicted, became visible in a moment in the skies. Then Purandara, seeing that sacrifice, became much alarmed, and quickly casting Takshaka off, went back to his own abode. After Indra had gone away, Takshaka, the prince of snakes, insensible with fear, was by virtue of the mantras, brought near enough the flames of the sacrificial fire. "The Ritwiks then said, 'O king of kings, the sacrifice of thine is being performed duly. It behoveth thee, O Lord, to grant a boon now to this first of Brahmanas.' "Janamejaya then said, 'Thou immeasurable one of such handsome and child- like features, I desire to grant thee a worthy boon. Therefore, ask thou that which thou desirest in thy heart. I promise thee, that I will grant it even if it be ungrantable.' "The Ritwiks said, 'O monarch, behold, Takshaka is soon coming under thy control! His terrible cries, and loud roar is being heard. Assuredly, the snake hath been forsaken by the wielder of thunder. His body being disabled by your mantras, he is falling from heaven. Even now, rolling in the skies, and deprived of consciousness, the prince of snakes cometh, breathing loudly.'" Sauti continued, "While Takshaka, the prince of snakes was about to fall into the sacrificial fire, during those few moments Astika spoke as follows, 'O Janamejaya, if thou wouldst grant me a boon, let this sacrifice of thine come to an end and let no more snakes fall into the fire.' "O Brahmana, the son of Parikshit, being thus addressed by Astika, became exceedingly sorry and replied unto Astika thus, 'O illustrious one, gold, silver, kine, whatever other possessions thou desirest I shall give unto thee. But let not my sacrifice come to an end.' "Astika thereupon replied, 'Gold, silver or kine, I do not ask of thee, O monarch! But let thy sacrifice be ended so that my maternal relations be relieved.'" Sauti continued, "The son of Parikshit, being thus addressed by Astika, repeatedly said this unto that foremost of speakers, 'Best of the Brahmanas, ask some other boon. O, blessed be thou!' But, O thou of Bhrigu's race, he did not beg any other boon. Then all the Sadasyas conversant with the Vedas told the king in one voice, 'Let the Brahmana receive his boon!'" SECTION LVII (Astika Parva continued) Saunaka said, "O son of a Suta, I desire to hear the names of all those snakes that fell into the fire of this snake-sacrifice!" Sauti replied, "Many thousands and tens of thousands and billions of snakes fell into the fire. O most excellent Brahmana, so great is the number that I am unable to count them all. So far, however, as I remember, hear the names I mention of the principal snakes cast into the fire. Hear first the names of the principal ones of Vasuki's race alone, of colour blue, red and white of terrible form and huge body and deadly poison. Helpless and miserable and afflicted with their mother's curse, they fell into the sacrificial fire like libations of butter. "Kotisa, Manasa, Purna, Cala, Pala Halmaka, Pichchala, Kaunapa, Cakra, Kalavega, Prakalana, Hiranyavahu, Carana, Kakshaka, Kaladantaka--these snakes born of Vasuki, fell into the fire. And, O Brahmana, numerous other snakes well-born, and of terrible form and great strength, were burnt in the blazing fire. I shall now mention those born in the race of Takshaka. Hear thou their names. Puchchandaka, Mandalaka, Pindasektri, Ravenaka; Uchochikha, Carava, Bhangas, Vilwatejas, Virohana; Sili, Salakara, Muka, Sukumara, Pravepana, Mudgara and Sisuroman, Suroman and Mahahanu. These snakes born of Takshaka fell into the fire. And Paravata, Parijata, Pandara, Harina, Krisa, Vihanga, Sarabha, Meda, Pramoda, Sauhatapana-- these born in the race of Airavata fell into the fire. Now hear, O best of Brahmanas, the names of the snakes I mention born in the race of Kauravya: Eraka, Kundala Veni, Veniskandha, Kumaraka, Vahuka, Sringavera, Dhurtaka, Pratara and Astaka. These born in the race of Kauravya fell into the fire. Now hear the names I mention, in order, of those snakes endued with the speed of the wind and with virulent poison, born in the race of Dhritarashtra: Sankukarna, Pitharaka, Kuthara, Sukhana, and Shechaka; Purnangada, Purnamukha, Prahasa, Sakuni, Dari, Amahatha, Kumathaka, Sushena, Vyaya, Bhairava, Mundavedanga, Pisanga, Udraparaka, Rishabha, Vegavat, Pindaraka; Raktanga, Sarvasaranga, Samriddha, Patha and Vasaka; Varahaka, Viranaka, Suchitra, Chitravegika, Parasara, Tarunaka, Maniskandha and Aruni. "O Brahmana, thus I have recited the names of the principal snakes known widely for their achievements--I have not been able to name all, the number being countless. The sons of these snakes, the sons of those sons, that were burnt having fallen into the fire, I am unable to mention. They are so many! Some of three heads, some of seven, others of ten, of poison like unto the fire at the end of the yuga and terrible in form,--they were burnt by thousands! "Many others, of huge bodies, of great speed, tall as mountain summits, of the length of a yama, of a yojana, and of two yojanas, capable of assuming at will any form and of mastering at will any degree of strength, of poison like unto blazing fire, afflicted by the curse of a mother, were burnt in that great sacrifice." SECTION LVIII (Astika Parva, continued) Sauti said, "Listen now to another very wonderful incident in connection with Astika. When king Janamejaya was about to gratify Astika by granting the boon, the snake (Takshaka), thrown off Indra's hands, remained in mid without actually falling. King Janamejaya thereupon became curious, for Takshaka, afflicted with fear, did not at once fall into the fire although libations were poured in proper form into the blazing sacrificial Agni in his name." Saunaka said, "Was it, O Suta, that the mantras of those wise Brahmanas were not potent; since Takshaka did not fall into the fire?" Sauti replied, "Unto the unconscious Takshaka, that best of snakes, after he had been cast off Indra's hands, Astika had thrice said, 'Stay,' 'Stay,' 'Stay.' And he succeeded in staying in the skies, with afflicted heart, like a person somehow staying between the welkin and the earth. "The king then, on being repeatedly urged by his Sadasyas, said, 'Let it be done as Astika hath said. Let the sacrifice be ended, let the snakes be safe, let this Astika also be gratified, O Suta, thy words also be true.' When the boon was granted to Astika, plaudits expressive of joy rang through the air. Thus the sacrifice of the son of Parikshit--that king of the Pandava race--came to an end. The king Janamejaya of the Bharata race was himself pleased, and on the Ritwiks with the Sadasyas, and on all who had come there, the king, bestowed money by hundreds and thousands. And unto Suta Lohitaksha--conversant with the rules of building and foundations--who had at the commencement said that a Brahmana would be the cause of the interruption of the snake-sacrifice, the king gave much wealth. The king, of uncommon kindness, also gave him various things, with food and wearing apparel, according to his desire, and became very much pleased. Then he concluded his sacrifice according to the prescribed rites, and after treating him with every respect, the king in joy sent home the wise Astika exceedingly gratified, for he had attained his object. And the king said unto him, 'Thou must come again to become a Sadasya in my great Horse-sacrifice.' And Astika said, 'yes' and then returned home in great joy, having achieved his great end after gratifying the monarch. And returning in joy to his uncle and mother and touching their feet, he recounted to them everything as it had happened." Sauti continued, "Hearing all he had said, the snakes that had come thither became very much delighted, and their fears were allayed. They were much pleased with Astika and asked him to solicit a boon, saying, 'O learned one, what good shall we do unto thee? We have been very much gratified, having been all saved by thee. What shall we accomplish for thee, O child!' "Astika said, 'Let those Brahmanas, and other men, who shall, in the morning or in the evening, cheerfully and with attention, read the sacred account of this my act, have no fear from any of you.' And the snakes in joy thereupon said, 'O nephew, in the nature of thy boon, let it be exactly as thou sayest. That which thou askest we all shall cheerfully do, O nephew! And those also that call to mind Astika, Artiman and Sunitha, in the day or in the night, shall have no fear of snakes. He again shall have no fear of snakes who will say, "I call to mind the famous Astika born of Jaratkaru, that Astika who saved the snakes from the snake-sacrifice. Therefore, ye snakes of great good fortune, it behoveth you not to bite me. But go ye away, blessed be ye, or go away thou snake of virulent poison, and remember the words of Astika after the snake sacrifice of Janamejaya. That snake who does not cease from biting after hearing such mention of Astika, shall have his hood divided a hundredfold like the fruit of Sinsa tree."'" Sauti continued, "That first of Brahmanas, thus addressed by the foremost of the chief snakes assembled together, was very much gratified. And the high-souled one then set his heart upon going away. "And that best of Brahmanas, having saved the snakes from the snake- sacrifice, ascended to heaven when his time came, leaving sons and grandsons behind him. "Thus have I recited to thee this history of Astika exactly as it happened. Indeed, the recitation of this history dispelleth all fear of snakes." Sauti continued, "O Brahmanas, O foremost one of Bhrigu's race, as thy ancestor Pramati had cheerfully narrated unto his inquiring son Ruru, and as I had heard it, thus have I recited this blessed history, from the beginning, of the learned Astika. And, O Brahmana, O oppressor of all enemies, having heard this holy history of Astika that increaseth virtue, and which thou hadst asked me about after hearing the story of the Dundubha, let thy ardent curiosity be satisfied." SECTION LIX (Adivansavatarana Parva) Saunaka said, "O son, thou hast narrated to me this extensive and great history commencing from the progeny of Bhrigu. O son of Suta, I have been much gratified with thee. I ask thee again, to recite to me, O son of a Suta, the history composed by Vyasa. The varied and wonderful narrations that were recited amongst those illustrious Sadasyas assembled at the sacrifice, in the intervals of their duties of that long-extending ceremony, and the objects also of those narrations, I desire to hear from thee, O son of a Suta! Recite therefore, all those to me fully." Sauti said, "The Brahmanas, in the intervals of the duties, spoke of many things founded upon the Vedas. But Vyasa recited the wonderful and great history called the Bharata." Saunaka said, "That sacred history called the Mahabharata, spreading the fame of the Pandavas, which Krishna-Dwaipayana, asked by Janamejaya, caused to be duly recited after the completion of the sacrifice, I desire to hear duly. That history hath been born of the ocean-like mind of the great Rishi of soul purified by yoga. Thou foremost of good men, recite it unto me, for, O son of a Suta, my thirst hath not been appeased by all thou hast said." Sauti said, "I shall recite to thee from the beginning of that great and excellent history called the Mahabharata composed by Vyasa. O Brahmana, listen to it in full, as I recite it. I myself feel a great pleasure in reciting it." SECTION LX (Adivansavatarana Parva continued) Sauti said, "Hearing that Janamejaya was installed in the snake-sacrifice, the learned Rishi Krishna-Dwaipayana went thither on the occasion. And he, the grand-father of the Pandavas, was born in an island of the Yamuna, of the virgin Kali by Sakti's son, Parasara. And the illustrious one developed by his will alone his body as soon as he was born, and mastered the Vedas with their branches, and all the histories. And he readily obtained that which no one could obtain by asceticism, by the study of the Vedas, by vows, by fasts, by progeny, and by sacrifice. And the first of Veda-knowing ones, he divided the Vedas into four parts. And the Brahmana Rishi had knowledge of the supreme Brahma, knew the past by intuition, was holy, and cherished truth. Of sacred deeds and great fame, he begot Pandu and Dhritarashtra and Vidura in order to continue the line of Santanu. "And the high-souled Rishi, with his disciples all conversant with the Vedas and their branches, entered the sacrificial pavilion of the royal sage, Janamejaya. And he saw that the king Janamejaya was seated in the sacrificial region like the god Indra, surrounded by numerous Sadasyas, by kings of various countries whose coronal locks had undergone the sacred bath, and by competent Ritwiks like unto Brahman himself. And that foremost one of Bharata's race, the royal sage Janamejaya, beholding the Rishi come, advanced quickly with his followers and relatives in great joy. And the king with the approval of his Sadasyas, gave the Rishi a golden seat as Indra did to Vrihaspati. And when the Rishi, capable of granting boons and adored by the celestial Rishis themselves, had been seated, the king of kings worshipped him according to the rites of the scriptures. And the king then offered him--his grandfather Krishna--who fully deserved them, water to wash his feet and mouth, and the Arghya, and kine. And accepting those offerings from the Pandava Janamejaya and ordering the kine also not to be slain, Vyasa became much gratified. And the king, after those adorations bowed to his great-grandfather, and sitting in joy asked him about his welfare. And the illustrious Rishi also, casting his eyes upon him and asking him about his welfare, worshipped the Sadasyas, having been before worshipped by them all. And after all this, Janamejaya with all his Sadasyas, questioned that first of Brahmanas, with joined palms as follows: "'O Brahmana, thou hast seen with thy own eyes the acts of the Kurus and the Pandavas. I am desirous of hearing thee recite their history. What was the cause of the disunion amongst them that was fruitful of such extraordinary deeds? Why also did that great battle, which caused the death of countless creatures occur between all my grandfathers--their clear sense over-clouded by fate? O excellent Brahmana, tell me all this in full as everything had happened.' "Hearing those words of Janamejaya, Krishna-Dwaipayana directed his disciple Vaisampayana seated by his side, saying, 'The discord that happened between the Kurus and the Pandavas of old, narrate all to the king even as thou hast heard from me.' "Then that blessed Brahmana, at the command of his preceptor recited the whole of that history unto the king, the Sadasyas, and all the chieftains there assembled. And he told them all about the hostility and the utter extinction of the Kurus and the Pandavas." SECTION LXI (Adivansavatarana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Bowing down in the first place to my preceptor with the eight parts of my body touching the ground, with devotion and reverence, and with all my heart, worshipping the whole assembly of Brahmanas and other learned persons, I shall recite in full what I have heard from the high-souled and great Rishi Vyasa, the first of intelligent men in the three worlds. And having got it within thy reach, O monarch, thou also art a fit person to hear the composition called Bharata. Encouraged by the command of my preceptor my heart feeleth no fear. "'Hear, O monarch, why that disunion occurred between the Kurus and the Pandavas, and why also that exile into the woods immediately proceeding from the game at dice prompted by the desire (of the Kurus) for rule. I shall relate all to thee who askest it thou best of the Bharata race! "'On the death of their father those heroes (the Pandavas) came to their own home. And within a short time they became well-versed in archery. And the Kurus beholding the Pandavas gifted with physical strength, energy, and power of mind, popular also with the citizens, and blessed with good fortune, became very jealous. Then the crookedminded Duryodhana, and Karna, with (the former's uncle) the son of Suvala began to persecute them and devise means for their exile. Then the wicked Duryodhana, guided by the counsels of Sakuni (his maternal uncle), persecuted the Pandavas in various ways for the acquirement of undisputed sovereignty. The wicked son of Dhritarashtra gave poison to Bhima, but Bhima of the stomach of the wolf digested the poison with the food. Then the wretch again tied the sleeping Bhima on the margin of the Ganges and, casting him into the water, went away. But when Bhimasena of strong arms, the son of Kunti woke, he tore the strings with which he had been tied and came up, his pains all gone. And while asleep and in the water black snakes of virulent poison bit him in every part of his body. But that slayer of foes did not still perish. And in all those persecutions of the Pandavas by their cousins, the Kurus, the high-minded Vidura attentively engaged himself neutralising those evil designs and rescuing the persecuted ones. And as Sakra from the heavens keeps in happiness the world of men, so did Vidura always keep the Pandavas from evil. "'When Duryodhana, with various means, both secret and open, found himself incapable of destroying the Pandavas who were protected by the fates and kept alive for grave future purposes (such as the extermination of the Kuru race), then called together his counsellors consisting of Vrisha (Karna), Duhsasana and others, and with the knowledge of Dhritarashtra caused a house of lac to be constructed. And king Dhritarashtra, from affection for his children, and prompted by the desire of sovereignty, sent the Pandavas tactfully into Varanavata. And the Pandavas then went away with their mother from Hastinapura. And when they were leaving the city, Vidura gave them some idea of impending danger and how they could come out of it. "'The sons of Kunti reached the town of Varanavata and lived there with their mother. And, agreeably to the command of Dhritarashtra, those illustrious slayers of all enemies lived in the palace of lac, while in that town. And they lived in that place for one year, protecting themselves from Purochana very wakefully. And causing a subterranean passage to be constructed, acting according to the directions of Vidura, they set fire to that house of lac and burnt Purochana (their enemy and the spy of Duryodhana) to death. Those slayers of all enemies, anxious with fear, then fled with their mother. In the woods beside a fountain they saw a Rakshasa. But, alarmed at the risk they ran of exposure by such an act the Pandavas fled in the darkness, out of fear from the sons of Dhritarashtra. It was here that Bhima gained Hidimva (the sister of the Rakshasa he slew) for a wife, and it was of her that Ghatotkacha was born. Then the Pandavas, of rigid vows, and conversant with the Vedas wended to a town of the name of Ekachakra and dwelt there in the guise of Brahmacharins. And those bulls among men dwelt in that town in the house of a Brahmana for some time, with temperance and abstinence. And it was here that Bhima of mighty arms came upon a hungry and mighty and man- eating Rakshasa of the name of Vaka. And Bhima, the son of Pandu, that tiger among men, slew him speedily with the strength of his arms and made the citizens safe and free from fear. Then they heard of Krishna (the princess of Panchala) having become disposed to select a husband from among the assembled princes. And, hearing of it, they went to Panchala, and there they obtained the maiden. And having obtained Draupadi (as their common wife) they then dwelt there for a year. And after they became known, those chastisers of all enemies went back to Hastinapura. And they were then told by king Dhritarashtra and the son of Santanu (Bhishma) as follows: 'In order, O dear ones, dissensions may not take place between you and your cousins, we have settled that Khandavaprastha should be your abode. Therefore, go ye, casting off all jealousy, to Khandavaprastha which contains many towns served by many broad roads, for dwelling there.' And accordingly the Pandavas went, with all their friends and followers, to Khandavaprastha taking with them many jewels and precious stones. And the sons of Pritha dwelt there for many years. And they brought, by force of arms, many a prince under their subjection. And thus, setting their hearts on virtue and firmly adhering to truth, unruffled by affluence, calm in deportment, and putting down numerous evils, the Pandavas gradually rose to power. And Bhima of great reputation subjugated the East, the heroic Arjuna, the North, Nakula, the West, Sahadeva that slayer of all hostile heroes, the South. And this having been done, their domination was spread over the whole world. And with the five Pandavas, each like unto the Sun, the Earth looked as if she had six Suns. "'Then, for some reason, Yudhishthira the just, gifted with great energy and prowess, sent his brother Arjuna who was capable of drawing the bow with the left hand, dearer unto him than life itself, into the woods. And Arjuna, that tiger among men, of firm soul, and gifted with every virtue, lived in the woods for eleven years and months. And during this period, on a certain occasion, Arjuna went to Krishna in Dwaravati. And Vibhatsu (Arjuna) there obtained for a wife the lotus-eyed and sweet-speeched younger sister of Vasudeva, Subhadra by name. And she became united, in gladness, with Arjuna, the son of Pandu, like Sachi with the great Indra, or Sri with Krishna himself. And then, O best of monarchs, Arjuna, the son of Kunti, with Vasudeva, gratified Agni, the carrier of the sacrificial butter, in the forest of Khandava (by burning the medicinal plants in that woods to cure Agni of his indigestion). And to Arjuna, assisted as he was by Kesava, the task did not at all appear heavy even as nothing is heavy to Vishnu with immense design and resources in the matter of destroying his enemies. And Agni gave unto the son of Pritha the excellent bow Gandiva and a quiver that was inexhaustible, and a war-chariot bearing the figure of Garuda on its standard. And it was on this occasion that Arjuna relieved the great Asura (Maya) from fear (of being consumed in the fire). And Maya, in gratitude, built (for the Pandavas) a celestial palace decked with every sort of jewels and precious stones. And the wicked Duryodhana, beholding that building, was tempted with the desire of possessing it. And deceiving Yudhishthira by means of the dice played through the hands of the son of Suvala, Duryodhana sent the Pandavas into the woods for twelve years and one additional year to be passed in concealment, thus making the period full thirteen. "'And the fourteenth year, O monarch, when the Pandavas returned and claimed their property, they did not obtain it. And thereupon war was declared, and the Pandavas, after exterminating the whole race of Kshatriyas and slaying king Duryodhana, obtained back their devastated kingdom. "'This is the history of the Pandavas who never acted under the influence of evil passions; and this the account, O first of victorious monarchs of the disunion that ended in the loss of their kingdom by the Kurus and the victory of the Pandavas.'" SECTION LXII (Adivansavatarana Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O excellent Brahmana, thou hast, indeed, told me, in brief, the history, called Mahabharata, of the great acts of the Kurus. But, O thou of ascetic wealth, recite now that wonderful narration fully. I feel a great curiosity to hear it. It behoveth thee to recite it, therefore, in full. I am not satisfied with hearing in a nutshell the great history. That could never have been a trifling cause for which the virtuous ones could slay those whom they should not have slain, and for which they are yet applauded by men. Why also did those tigers among men, innocent and capable of avenging themselves upon their enemies, calmly suffer the persecution of the wicked Kurus? Why also, O best of Brahmanas, did Bhima of mighty arms and of the strength of ten thousand elephants, control his anger, though wronged? Why also did the chaste Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, wronged by those wretches and able to burn them, not burn the sons of Dhritarashtra with her wrathful eyes? Why also did the two other sons of Pritha (Bhima and Arjuna) and the two sons of Madri (Nakula and Sahadeva), themselves injured by the wretched Kurus, follow Yudhishthira who was greatly addicted to the evil habit of gambling? Why also did Yudhishthira, that foremost of all virtuous men, the son of Dharma himself, fully acquainted with all duties, suffer that excess of affliction? Why also did the Pandava Dhananjaya, having Krishna for his charioteer, who by his arrows sent to the other world that dauntless host of fighting men (suffer such persecution)? O thou of ascetic wealth, speak to me of all these as they took place, and everything that those mighty charioteers achieved.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O monarch, appoint thou a time for hearing it. This history told by Krishna-Dwaipayana is very extensive. This is but the beginning. I shall recite it. I shall repeat the whole of the composition in full, of the illustrious and great Rishi Vyasa of immeasurable mental power, and worshipped in all the worlds. This Bharata consists of a hundred thousand sacred slokas composed by the son of Satyavati, of immeasurable mental power. He that reads it to others, and they that hear it read, attain to the world of Brahman and become equal to the very gods. This Bharata is equal unto the Vedas, is holy and excellent; is the worthiest of all to be listened to, and is a Purana worshipped by the Rishis. It contains much useful instruction on Artha and Kama (profit and pleasure). This sacred history maketh the heart desire for salvation. Learned persons by reciting this Veda of Krishna-Dwaipayana to those that are liberal, truthful and believing, earn much wealth. Sins, such as killing the embryo in the womb, are destroyed assuredly by this. A person, however cruel and sinful, by hearing this history, escapes from all his sins like the Sun from Rahu (after the eclipse is over). This history is called Jaya. It should be heard by those desirous of victory. A king by hearing it may bring the whole world under subjection and conquer all his foes. This history in itself is a mighty act of propitiation, a mighty sacrifice productive of blessed fruit. It should always be heard by a young monarch with his queen, for then they beget a heroic son or a daughter to occupy a throne. This history is the high and sacred science of Dharma, Artha, and also of Moksha; it hath been so said by Vyasa himself of mind that is immeasurable. This history is recited in the present age and will be recited in the future. They that hear it read, have sons and servants always obedient to them and doing their behests. All sins that are committed by body, word, or mind, immediately leave them that hear this history. They who hear, without the spirit of fault finding, the story of the birth of the Bharata princes, can have no fear of maladies, let alone the fear of the other world. "'For extending the fame of the high-souled Pandavas and of other Kshatriyas versed in all branches of knowledge, high spirited, and already known in the world for their achievements, Krishna-Dwaipayana, guided also by the desire of doing good to the world, hath composed this work. It is excellent, productive of fame, grants length of life, is sacred and heavenly. He who, from desire of acquiring religious merit, causeth this history to be heard by sacred Brahmanas, acquireth great merit and virtue that is inexhaustible. He that reciteth the famous generation of the Kurus becometh immediately purified and acquireth a large family himself, and becometh respected in the world. That Brahmana who regularly studies this sacred Bharata for the four months of the rainy season, is cleansed from all his sins. He that has read the Bharata may be regarded as one acquainted with the Vedas. "'This work presents an account of the gods and royal sages and sacred regenerate Rishis, the sinless Kesava; the god of gods, Mahadeva and the goddess Parvati; the birth of Kartikeya who sprang from union of Parvati with Mahadeva and was reared by many mothers; the greatness of Brahmanas and of kine. This Bharata is a collection of all the Srutis, and is fit to be heard by every virtuous person. That learned man who reciteth it to Brahmanas during the sacred lunations, becometh cleansed of all sins, and, not caring for heaven as it were, attaineth to a union with Brahma. He that causeth even a single foot of this poem to be heard by Brahmanas during the performance of a Sraddha, maketh that Sraddha inexhaustible, the Pitris becoming ever gratified with the articles once presented to them. The sins that are committed daily by our senses or the mind, those that are committed knowingly or unknowingly by any man, are all destroyed by hearing the Mahabharata. The history of the exalted birth of the Bharata princes is called the Mahabharata. He who knoweth this etymology of the name is cleansed of all his sins. And as this history of the Bharata race is so wonderful, that, when recited, it assuredly purifieth mortals from all sins. The sage Krishna-Dwaipayana completed his work in three years. Rising daily and purifying himself and performing his ascetic devotions, he composed this Mahabharata. Therefore, this should be heard by Brahmanas with the formality of a vow. He who reciteth this holy narration composed by Krishna (Vyasa) for the hearing of others, and they who hear it, in whatever state he or they may be, can never be affected by the fruit of deeds, good or bad. The man desirous of acquiring virtue should hear it all. This is equivalent to all histories, and he that heareth it always attaineth to purity of heart. The gratification that one deriveth from attaining to heaven is scarcely equal to that which one deriveth from hearing this holy history. The virtuous man who with reverence heareth it or causeth it to be heard, obtaineth the fruit of the Rajasuya and the horse-sacrifice. The Bharata is said to be as much a mine of gems as the vast Ocean or the great mountain Meru. This history is sacred and excellent, and is equivalent to the Vedas, worthy of being heard, pleasing to the ear, sin-cleansing, and virtue-increasing. O monarch, he that giveth a copy of the Bharata to one that asketh for it doth indeed make a present of the whole earth with her belt of seas. O son of Parikshit, this pleasant narration that giveth virtue and victory I am about to recite in its entirety: listen to it. The sage Krishna-Dwaipayana regularly rising for three years, composed this wonderful history called Mahabharata. O bull amongst the Bharata monarchs, whatever is spoken about virtue, wealth, pleasure, and salvation may be seen elsewhere; but whatever is not contained in this is not to be found anywhere.'" SECTION LXIII (Adivansavatarana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'There was a king of the name of Uparichara. That monarch was devoted to virtue. He was very much addicted also to hunting. That king of the Paurava race, called also Vasu, conquered the excellent and delightful kingdom of Chedi under instructions from Indra. Some time after, the king gave up the use of arms and, dwelling in a secluded retreat, practised the most severe austerities. The gods with Indra at their head once approached the monarch during this period, believing that he sought the headship of the gods, by those severe austerities of his. The celestials, becoming objects of his sight, by soft speeches succeeded in winning him away from his ascetic austerities. "'The gods said, "O lord of the earth, thou shouldst take care so that virtue may not sustain a diminution on earth! Protected by thee, virtue itself will in return protect the universe." And Indra said, "O king, protect virtue on earth attentively and rigidly. Being virtuous, thou shalt, for all time, behold (in after life) many sacred regions. And though I am of Heaven, and thou art of earth, yet art thou my friend and dear to me. And, O king of men, dwell thou in that region on earth which is delightful, and aboundeth in animals, is sacred, full of wealth and corn, is well-protected like heaven, which is of agreeable climate, graced with every object of enjoyment, and blessed with fertility. And, O monarch of Chedi, this thy dominion is full of riches, of gems and precious stones, and containeth, besides, much mineral wealth. The cities and towns of this region are all devoted to virtue; the people are honest and contented; they never lie even in jest. Sons never divide their wealth with their fathers and are ever mindful of the welfare of their parents. Lean cattle are never yoked to the plough or the cart or engaged in carrying merchandise; on the other hand, they are well-fed and fattened. In Chedi the four orders are always engaged in their respective vocations. Let nothing be unknown to thee that happens in the three worlds. I shall give thee a crystal car such as the celestials alone are capable of carrying the car through mid air. Thou alone, of all mortals on earth, riding on that best of cars, shall course through mid-air like a celestial endued with a physical frame. I shall also give thee a triumphal garland of unfading lotuses, with which on, in battle, thou shall not be wounded by weapons. And, O king, this blessed and incomparable garland, widely known on earth as Indra's garland, shall be thy distinctive badge." "'The slayer of Vritra (Indra) also gave the king, for his gratification, a bamboo pole for protecting the honest and the peaceful. After the expiry of a year, the king planted it in the ground for the purpose of worshipping the giver thereof, viz., Sakra. From that time forth, O monarch, all kings, following Vasu's example, began to plant a pole for the celebration of Indra's worship. After erecting the pole they decked it with golden cloth and scents and garlands and various ornaments. And the god Vasava is worshipped in due form with such garlands and ornaments. And the god, for the gratification of the illustrious Vasu, assuming the form of a swan, came himself to accept the worship thus offered. And the god, beholding the auspicious worship thus made by Vasu, that first of monarchs, was delighted, and said unto him, "Those men, and kings also, who will worship me and joyously observe this festival of mine like the king of Chedi, shall have glory and victory for their countries and kingdom. Their cities also shall expand and be ever in joy." "'King Vasu was thus blessed by the gratified Maghavat, the high-souled chief of the gods. Indeed, those men who cause this festivity of Sakra to be observed with gifts of land, of gems and precious stones, become the respected of the world. And king Vasu, the lord of Chedis bestowing boons and performing great sacrifices and observing the festivity of Sakra, was much respected by Indra. And from Chedi he ruled the whole world virtuously. And for the gratification of Indra, Vasu, the lord of the Chedis, observed the festivity of Indra. "'And Vasu had five sons of great energy and immeasurable prowess. And the emperor installed his sons as governors of various provinces. "'And his son Vrihadratha was installed in Magadha and was known by the name of Maharatha. Another son of his was Pratyagraha; and another, Kusamva, who was also called Manivahana. And the two others were Mavella, and Yadu of great prowess and invincible in battle. "'These, O monarch, were the sons of that royal sage of mighty energy. And the five sons of Vasu planted kingdoms and towns after their own names and founded separate dynasties that lasted for long ages. "'And when king Vasu took his seat in that crystal car, with the gift of Indra, and coursed through the sky, he was approached by Gandharvas and Apsaras (the celestial singers and dancers). And as he coursed through the upper regions, he was called Uparichara. And by his capital flowed a river called Suktimati. And that river was once attacked by a life-endued mountain called Kolahala maddened by lust. And Vasu, beholding the foul attempt, struck the mountain with his foot. And by the indentation caused by Vasu's stamp, the river came out (of the embraces of Kolahala). But the mountain begat on the river two children that were twins. And the river, grateful to Vasu for his having set her free from Kolahala's embraces, gave them both to Vasu. And the son was made the generalissimo to his forces by Vasu, that best of royal sages and giver of wealth and punisher of enemies. And the daughter called Girika, was wedded by Vasu. "'And Girika, the wife of Vasu, after her menstrual course, purifying herself by a bath, represented her state unto her lord. But that very day the Pitris of Vasu came unto that best of monarchs and foremost of wise men, and asked him to slay deer (for their Sraddha). And the king, thinking that the command of the Pitris should not be disobeyed, went a- hunting thinking of Girika alone who was gifted with great beauty and like unto another Sri herself. And the season being the spring, the woods within which the king was roaming, had become delightful like unto the gardens of the king of the Gandharvas himself. There were Asokas and Champakas and Chutas and Atimuktas in abundance: and there were Punnagas and Karnikaras and Vakulas and Divya Patalas and Patalas and Narikelas and Chandanas and Arjunas and similar other beautiful and sacred trees resplendent with fragrant flowers and sweet fruits. And the whole forest was maddened by the sweet notes of the kokila and echoed with the hum of maddened bees. And the king became possessed with desire, and he saw not his wife before him. Maddened by desire he was roaming hither and thither, when he saw a beautiful Asoka decked with dense foliage, its branches covered with flowers. And the king sat at his ease in the shade of that tree. And excited by the fragrance of the season and the charming odours of the flowers around, and excited also by the delicious breeze, the king could not keep his mind away from the thought of the beautiful Girika. And beholding that a swift hawk was resting very near to him, the king, acquainted with the subtle truths of Dharma and Artha, went unto him and said, "Amiable one, carry thou this seed (semen) for my wife Girika and give it unto her. Her season hath arrived." "'The hawk, swift of speed, took it from the king and rapidly coursed through the air. While thus passing, the hawk was seen by another of his species. Thinking that the first one was carrying meat, the second one flew at him. The two fought with each other in the sky with their beaks. While they were fighting, the seed fell into the waters of the Yamuna. And in those waters dwelt an Apsara of the higher rank, known by the name of Adrika, transformed by a Brahmana's curse into a fish. As soon as Vasu's seed fell into the water from the claws of the hawk, Adrika rapidly approached and swallowed it at once. That fish was, some time after, caught by the fishermen. And it was the tenth month of the fish's having swallowed the seed. From the stomach of that fish came out a male and a female child of human form. The fishermen wondered much, and wending unto king Uparichara (for they were his subjects) told him all. They said, "O king, these two beings of human shape have been found in the body of a fish!" The male child amongst the two was taken by Uparichara. That child afterwards became the virtuous and truthful monarch Matsya. "'After the birth of the twins, the Apsara herself became freed from her curse. For she had been told before by the illustrious one (who had cursed her) that she would, while living in her piscatorial form, give birth to two children of human shape and then would be freed from the curse. Then, according to these words, having given birth to the two children, and been killed by the fishermen, she left her fish-form and assumed her own celestial shape. The Apsara then rose up on the path trodden by the Siddhas, the Rishis and the Charanas. "'The fish-smelling daughter of the Apsara in her piscatorial form was then given by the king unto the fishermen, saying, "Let this one be thy daughter." That girl was known by the name of Satyavati. And gifted with great beauty and possessed of every virtue, she of agreeable smiles, owing to contact with fishermen, was for some time of the fishy smell. Wishing to serve her (foster) father she plied a boat on the waters of the Yamuna. "'While engaged in this vocation, Satyavati was seen one day by the great Rishi Parasara, in course of his wanderings. As she was gifted with great beauty, an object of desire even with an anchorite, and of graceful smiles, the wise sage, as soon as he beheld her, desired to have her. And that bull amongst Munis addressed the daughter of Vasu of celestial beauty and tapering thighs, saying, "Accept my embraces, O blessed one!" Satyavati replied, "O holy one, behold the Rishis standing on either bank of the river. Seen by them, how can I grant thy wish?" "'Thus addressed by her, the ascetic thereupon created a fog (which existed not before and) which enveloped the whole region in darkness. And the maiden, beholding the fog that was created by the great Rishi wondered much. And the helpless one became suffused with the blushes of bashfulness. And she said, "O holy one, note that I am a maiden under the control of my father. O sinless one, by accepting your embraces my virginity will be sullied. O best of Brahmanas, my virginity being sullied, how shall I, O Rishi, be able to return home? Indeed, I shall not then be able to bear life. Reflecting upon all this, O illustrious one, do that which should be done." That best of Rishis, gratified with all she said, replied, "Thou shall remain a virgin even if thou grantest my wish. And, O timid one, O beauteous lady, solicit the boon that thou desirest. O thou of fair smiles, my grace hath never before proved fruitless." Thus addressed, the maiden asked for the boon that her body might emit a sweet scent (instead of the fish-odour that it had). And the illustrious Rishi thereupon granted that wish of her heart. "'Having obtained her boon, she became highly pleased, and her season immediately came. And she accepted the embraces of that Rishi of wonderful deeds. And she thenceforth became known among men by the name of Gandhavati (the sweet-scented one). And men could perceive her scent from the distance of a yojana. And for this she was known by another name which was Yojanagandha (one who scatters her scent for a yojana all around). And the illustrious Parasara, after this, went to his own asylum. "'And Satyavati gratified with having obtained the excellent boon in consequence of which she became sweet-scented and her virginity remained unsullied conceived through Parasara's embraces. And she brought forth the very day, on an island in the Yamuna, the child begot upon her by Parasara and gifted with great energy. And the child, with the permission of his mother, set his mind on asceticism. And he went away saying, "As soon as thou rememberest me when occasion comes, I shall appear unto thee." "'And it was thus that Vyasa was born of Satyavati through Parasara. And because he was born in an island, he was called Dwaipayana (Dwaipa or islandborn). And the learned Dwaipayana, beholding that virtue is destined to become lame by one leg each yuga (she having four legs in all) and that the period of life and the strength of men followed the yugas, and moved by the desire of obtaining the favour of Brahman and the Brahmanas, arranged the Vedas. And for this he came to be called Vyasa (the arranger or compiler). The boon-giving great one then taught Sumanta, Jaimini, Paila, his son Suka, and Vaisampayana, the Vedas having the Mahabharata for their fifth. And the compilation of the Bharata was published by him through them separately. "'Then Bhishma, of great energy and fame and of immeasurable splendour, and sprung from the component parts of the Vasus, was born in the womb of Ganga through king Santanu. And there was a Rishi of the name of Animandavya of great fame. And he was conversant with the interpretations of the Vedas, was illustrious, gifted with great energy, and of great reputation. And, accused of theft, though innocent, the old Rishi was impaled. He thereupon summoned Dharma and told him these words, "In my childhood I had pierced a little fly on a blade of grass, O Dharma! I recollect that one sin: but I cannot call to mind any other. I have, however, since practised penances a thousandfold. Hath not that one sin been conquered by this my asceticism? And because the killing of a Brahmana is more heinous than that of any other living thing, therefore, hast thou, O Dharma, been sinful. Thou shalt, therefore, be born on earth in the Sudra order." And for that curse Dharma was born a Sudra in the form of the learned Vidura of pure body who was perfectly sinless. And the Suta was born of Kunti in her maidenhood through Surya. And he came out of his mother's womb with a natural coat of mail and face brightened by ear- rings. And Vishnu himself, of world-wide fame, and worshipped of all the worlds, was born of Devaki through Vasudeva, for the benefit of the three worlds. He is without birth and death, of radiant splendour, the Creator of the universe and the Lord of all! Indeed, he who is the invisible cause of all, who knoweth no deterioration, who is the all-pervading soul, the centre round which everything moveth, the substance in which the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas and Tamas co-inhere, the universal soul, the immutable, the material out of which hath been created this universe, the Creator himself, the controlling lord, the invisible dweller in every object, progenitor of this universe of five elements, who is united with the six high attributes, is the Pranava or Om of the Vedas, is infinite, incapable of being moved by any force save his own will, illustrious, the embodiment of the mode of life called Sannyasa, who floated on the waters before the creation, who is the source whence hath sprung this mighty frame, who is the great combiner, the uncreate, the invisible essence of all, the great immutable, bereft of those attributes that are knowable by the senses, who is the universe itself, without beginning, birth, and decay,--is possessed of infinite wealth, that Grandsire of all creatures, became incarnate in the race of the Andhaka-Vrishnis for the increase of virtue. "'And Satyaki and Kritavarma, conversant with (the use of) weapons possessed of mighty energy, well-versed in all branches of knowledge, and obedient to Narayana in everything and competent in the use of weapons, had their births from Satyaka and Hridika. And the seed of the great Rishi Bharadwaja of severe penances, kept in a pot, began to develop. And from that seed came Drona (the pot-born). And from the seed of Gautama, fallen upon a clump of reeds, were born two that were twins, the mother of Aswatthaman (called Kripi), and Kripa of great strength. Then was born Dhrishtadyumna, of the splendour of Agni himself, from the sacrificial fire. And the mighty hero was born with bow in hand for the destruction of Drona. And from the sacrificial altar was born Krishna (Draupadi) resplendent and handsome, of bright features and excellent beauty. Then was born the disciple of Prahlada, viz., Nagnajit, and also Suvala. And from Suvala was born a son, Sakuni, who from the curse of the gods became the slayer of creatures and the foe of virtue. And unto him was also born a daughter (Gandhari), the mother of Duryodhana. And both were well-versed in the arts of acquiring worldly profits. And from Krishna was born, in the soil of Vichitravirya, Dhritarashtra, the lord of men, and Pandu of great strength. And from Dwaipayana also born, in the Sudra caste, the wise and intelligent Vidura, conversant with both religion and profit, and free from all sins. And unto Pandu by his two wives were born five sons like the celestials. The eldest of them was Yudhishthira. And Yudhishthira was born (of the seed) of Dharma (Yama, the god of justice); and Bhima of the wolf's stomach was born of Marut (the god of wind), and Dhananjaya, blessed with good fortune and the first of all wielders of weapons, was born of Indra; and Nakula and Sahadeva, of handsome features and ever engaged in the service of their superiors, were born of the twin Aswins. And unto the wise Dhritarashtra were born a hundred sons, viz., Duryodhana and others, and another, named Yuyutsu, who was born of a vaisya woman. And amongst those hundred and one, eleven, viz., Duhsasana, Duhsaha, Durmarshana, Vikarna, Chitrasena, Vivinsati, Jaya, Satyavrata, Purumitra, and Yuyutsu by a Vaisya wife, were all Maharathas (great car-warriors). And Abhimanyu was born of Subhadra, the sister of Vasudeva through Arjuna, and was, therefore, the grandson of the illustrious Pandu. And unto the five Pandavas were born five sons by (their common wife) Panchali. And these princes were all very handsome and conversant with all branches of knowledge. From Yudhishthira was born Pritivindhya; from Vrikodara, Sutasoma; from Arjuna, Srutakirti; from Nakula, Satanika; and from Sahadeva, Srutasena of great prowess; and Bhima, in the forest begot on Hidimva a son named Ghatotkacha. And from Drupada was born a daughter Sikhandin who was afterwards transformed into a male child. Sikhandini was so transformed into a male by Yaksha named Sthuna from the desire of doing her good. "'In that great battle of the Kurus came hundreds of thousands of monarchs for fighting against one another. The names of the innumerable host I am unable to recount even in ten thousand years. I have named, however, the principal ones who have been mentioned in this history.'" SECTION LXIV (Adivansavatarana Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O Brahmana, those thou hast named and those thou hast not named, I wish to hear of them in detail, as also of other kings by thousands. And, O thou of great good fortune, it behoveth thee to tell me in full the object for which those Maharathas, equal unto the celestials themselves, were born on earth.' "Vaisampayana said, 'It hath been heard by us, O monarch, that what thou askest is a mystery even to the gods. I shall, however, speak of it unto thee, after bowing down (to the self-born). The son of Jamadagni (Parasurama), after twenty-one times making the earth bereft of Kshatriyas wended to that best of mountains Mahendra and there began his ascetic penances. And at that time when the earth was bereft of Kshatriyas, the Kshatriya ladies, desirous of offspring, used to come, O monarch, to the Brahmanas and Brahmanas of rigid vows had connection with them during the womanly season alone, but never, O king, lustfully and out of season. And Kshatriya ladies by thousands conceived from such connection with Brahmanas. Then, O monarch, were born many Kshatriyas of greater energy, boys and girls, so that the Kshatriya race, might thrive. And thus sprang the Kshatriya race from Kshatriya ladies by Brahmanas of ascetic penances. And the new generation, blessed with long life, began to thrive in virtue. And thus were the four orders having Brahmanas at their head re- established. And every man at that time went in unto his wife during her season and never from lust and out of season. And, O bull of the Bharata race, in the same way, other creatures also, even those born in the race of birds went in unto their wives during the season alone. And, O protector of the earth, hundreds of thousands of creatures were born, and all were virtuous and began to multiply in virtue, all being free from sorrow and disease. And, O thou of the elephant's tread, this wide earth having the ocean for her boundaries, with her mountains and woods and towns, was once more governed by the Kshatriyas. And when the earth began to be again governed virtuously by the Kshatriyas, the other orders having Brahmanas for their first were filled with great joy. And the kings giving up all vices born of lust and anger and justly awarding punishments to those that deserved them protected the earth. And he of a hundred sacrifices, possessed also of a thousand eyes, beholding that the Kshatriya monarchs ruled so virtuously, poured down vivifying showers at proper times and places and blessed all creatures. Then, O king, no one of immature years died, and none knew a woman before attaining to age. And thus, O bull of the Bharata race, the earth, to the very coasts of the ocean, became filled with men that were all long-lived. The Kshatriyas performed great sacrifices bestowing much wealth. And the Brahmanas also all studied the Vedas with their branches and the Upanishads. And, O king, no Brahmana in those days ever sold the Vedas (i.e., taught for money) or ever read aloud the Vedas in the presence of a Sudra. The Vaisyas, with the help of bullocks, caused the earth to be tilled. And they never yoked the cattle themselves. And they fed with care all cattle that were lean. And men never milked kine as long as the calves drank only the milk of their dams (without having taken to grass or any other food). And no merchant in those days ever sold his articles by false scales. And, O tiger among men, all persons, holding to the ways of virtue, did everything with eyes set upon virtue. And, O monarch, all the orders were mindful of their own respective duties. Thus, O tiger among men, virtue in those days never sustained any diminution. And, O bull of the Bharata race, both kine and women gave birth to their offspring at the proper time. And trees bore flowers and fruit duly according to the seasons. And thus, O king, the krita age having then duly set in, the whole earth was filled with numerous creatures. "'And, O bull of the Bharata race, when such was the blessed state of the terrestrial world, the Asuras, O lord of men, began to be born in kingly lines. And the sons of Diti (Daityas) being repeatedly defeated in war by the sons of Aditi (celestials) and deprived also of sovereignty and heaven, began to be incarnated on the earth. And, O king, the Asuras being possessed of great powers, and desirous of sovereignty began to be born on earth amongst various creatures, such as kine, horses, asses, camels, buffaloes, among creatures such as Rakshasas and others, and among elephants and deer. And, O protector of the earth, owing to those already born and to those that were being born, the earth became incapable of supporting herself. And amongst the sons of Diti and of Danu, cast out of heaven, some were born on the earth as kings of great pride and insolence. Possessed of great energy, they covered the earth in various shapes. Capable of oppressing all foes, they filled the earth having the ocean for its boundaries. And by their strength they began to oppress Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras and all other creatures also. Terrifying and killing all creatures, they traversed the earth, O king, in bands of hundreds and thousands. Devoid of truth and virtue, proud of their strength, and intoxicated with (the wine of) insolence, they even insulted the great Rishis in their hermitages. "'And the earth, thus oppressed by the mighty Asuras endued with great strength and energy and possessed of abundant means, began to think of waiting on Brahman. The united strength of the creatures (such as Sesha, the Tortoise, and the huge Elephant), and of many Seshas too, became capable of supporting the earth with her mountains, burdened as she was with the weight of the Danavas. And then, O king, the earth, oppressed with weight and afflicted with fear, sought the protection of the Grandsire of all creatures. And she beheld the divine Brahman--the Creator of the worlds who knoweth no deterioration--surrounded by the gods, Brahmanas, and great Rishis, of exceeding good fortune, and adored by delighted Gandharvas and Apsaras always engaged in the service of the celestials. And the Earth, desirous of protection, then represented everything to him, in the presence, O Bharata, of all the Regents of the worlds. But, O king, the Earth's object had been known beforehand to the Omniscient, Self-create, and Supreme Lord. And, O Bharata, Creator as he is of the universe, why should he not know fully what is in the minds of his creatures including the very gods and the Asuras? O king, the Lord of the Earth, the Creator of all creatures, also called Isa, Sambhu, Prajapati, then spake unto her. And Brahman said, "O holder of wealth, for the accomplishment of the object for which thou hast approached me, I shall appoint all the dwellers in the heavens."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said so unto the Earth, O king, the divine Brahman bade her farewell. And the Creator then commanded all the gods saying, "To ease the Earth of her burden, go ye and have your births in her according to your respective parts and seek ye strife (with the Asuras already born there)". And the Creator of all, summoning also all the tribes of the Gandharvas and the Apsaras, spake unto them these words of deep import, "Go ye and be born amongst men according to your respective parts in forms that ye like." "'And all the gods with Indra, on hearing these words of the Lord of the celestials--words that were true, desirable under the circumstances, and fraught with benefit,--accepted them. And they all having resolved to come down on earth in their respected parts, then went to Narayana, the slayer of all foes, at Vaikunth--the one who has the discus and the mace in his hands, who is clad in purple, who is of great splendour, who hath the lotus on his navel, who is the slayer of the foes of the gods, who is of eyes looking down upon his wide chest (in yoga attitude), who is the lord of the Prajapati himself, the sovereign of all the gods, of mighty strength, who hath the mark of the auspicious whirl on his breast, who is the mover of every one's faculties and who is adored by all the gods. Him, Indra the most exalted of persons, addressed, saying, "Be incarnate." And Hari replied,--"Let it be."'" SECTION LXV (Sambhava Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Indra had a consultation with Narayana about the latter's descent on the earth from heaven with all the gods according to their respective parts. And, having commanded all the dwellers in heaven, Indra returned from the abode of Narayana. And the dwellers in heaven gradually became incarnate on earth for the destruction of the Asuras and for the welfare of the three worlds. And then, O tiger among kings, the celestials had their births, according as they pleased, in the races of Brahmarshis and royal sages. And they slew the Danavas, Rakshasas, Gandharvas and Snakes, other man-eaters, and many other creatures. And, O bull in the Bharata race, the Danavas, Rakshasas and Gandharvas and Snakes, could not slay the incarnate celestials even in their infancy, so strong they were.' "Janamejaya said, 'I desire to hear from the beginning of the births of the gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, men, Yakshas and Rakshasas. Therefore, it behoveth thee to tell me about the births of all creatures.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Indeed, I shall, having bowed down to the Self-create, tell thee in detail the origin of the celestials and other creatures. It is known that Brahman hath six spiritual sons, viz., Marichi, Atri, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha and Kratu. And Marichi's son is Kasyapa, and from Kasyapa have sprung these creatures. Unto Daksha (one of the Prajapatis) were born thirteen daughters of great good fortune. The daughters of Daksha are, O tiger among men and prince of the Bharata race, Aditi, Diti, Danu, Kala, Danayu, Sinhika, Krodha, Pradha, Viswa, Vinata, Kapila, Muni, and Kadru. The sons and grandsons of these, gifted with great energy, are countless. From Aditi have sprung the twelve Adityas who are the lords of the universe. And, O Bharata, as they are according to their names, I shall recount them to thee. They are Dhatri, Mitra, Aryaman, Sakra, Varuna, Ansa, Vaga, Vivaswat, Usha, Savitri, Tvashtri, and Vishnu. The youngest, however, is superior to them all in merit. Diti had one son called Hiranyakasipu. And the illustrious Hiranyakasipu had five sons, all famous throughout the world. The eldest of them all was Prahlada, the next was Sahradha; the third was Anuhrada; and after him were Sivi and Vashkala. And, O Bharata, it is known everywhere that Prahlada had three sons. They were Virochana, Kumbha, and Nikumbha. And unto Virochana was born a son, Vali, of great prowess. And the son of Vali is known to be the great Asura, Vana. And blessed with good fortune, Vana was a follower of Rudra, and was known also by the name of Mahakala. And Danu had forty sons, O Bharata! The eldest of them all was Viprachitti of great fame, Samvara, and Namuchi and Pauloman; Asiloman, and Kesi and Durjaya; Ayahsiras, Aswasiras, and the powerful Aswasanku; also Gaganamardhan, and Vegavat, and he called Ketumat; Swarbhanu, Aswa, Aswapati, Vrishaparvan, and then Ajaka; and Aswagriva, and Sukshama, and Tuhunda of great strength, Ekapada, and Ekachakra, Virupaksha, Mahodara, and Nichandra, and Nikumbha, Kupata, and then Kapata; Sarabha, and Sulabha, Surya, and then Chandramas; these in the race of Danu are stated to be well-known. The Surya and Chandramas (the Sun and the Moon) of the celestials are other persons, and not the sons of Danu as mentioned above. The following ten, gifted with great strength and vigour, were also, O king, born in the race of Danu;--Ekaksha, Amritapa of heroic courage, Pralamva and Naraka, Vatrapi, Satrutapana, and Satha, the great Asura; Gavishtha, and Vanayu, and the Danava called Dirghajiva. And, O Bharata, the sons and the grandsons of these were known to be countless. And Sinhika gave birth to Rahu, the persecutor of the Sun and the Moon, and to three others, Suchandra, Chandrahantri, and Chandrapramardana. And the countless progeny of Krura (krodha) were as crooked and wicked as herself. And the tribe was wrathful, of crooked deeds, and persecutors of their foes. And Danayu also had four sons who were bulls among the Asuras. They were Vikshara, Vala, Vira, and Vritra the great Asura. And the sons of Kala were all like Yama himself and smiter of all foes. And they were of great energy, and oppressors of all foes. And the sons of Kala were Vinasana and Krodha, and then Krodhahantri, and Krodhasatru. And there were many others among the sons of Kala. And Sukra, the son of a Rishi, was the chief priest of the Asuras. And the celebrated Sukra had four sons who were priests of the Asuras. And they were Tashtadhara and Atri, and two others of fierce deeds. They were like the Sun himself in energy, and set their hearts on acquiring the regions of Brahman. "'Thus hath been recited by me, as heard in the Purana, of progeny of the gods and the Asuras, both of great strength and energy. I am incapable, O king, of counting the descendants of these, countless as they are, are not much known to fame. "'And the sons of Vinata were Tarkhya and Arishtanemi, and Garuda and Aruna, and Aruni and Varuni. And Sesha of Ananta, Vasuki, Takshaka, Kumara, and Kulika are known to be the sons of Kadru; and Bhimasena, Ugrasena, Suparna, Varuna, Gopati, and Dhritarashtra, and Suryavarchas the seventh, Satyavachas, Arkaparna, Prayuta, Bhima, and Chitraratha known to fame, of great learning, and a controller of his passions, and then Kalisiras, and, O king, Parjanya, the fourteenth in the list, Kali, the fifteenth, and Narada, the sixteenth--these Devas and Gandharvas are known to be the sons of Muni (Daksha's daughter as mentioned before). I shall recount many others, O Bharata! Anavadya Manu, Vansa, Asura, Marganapria, Anupa, Subhaga, Vasi, were the daughters brought forth by Pradha, Siddha, and Purna, and Varhin, and Purnayus of great fame, Brahmacharin, Ratiguna, and Suparna who was the seventh; Viswavasu, Bhanu, and Suchandra who was the tenth, were also the sons of Pradha. All these were celestial Gandharvas. And it is also known that this Pradha of great fortune, through the celestial Rishi (Kasyapa, her husband), brought forth the sacred of the Apsaras, Alamvusha, Misrakesi, Vidyutparna, Tilottama, Aruna, Rakshita, Rambha, Manorama, Kesini, Suvahu, Surata, Suraja, and Supria were the daughters, and Ativahu and the celebrated Haha and Huhu, and Tumvuru were the sons--the best of Gandharvas--of Pradha and Amrita. The Brahmanas, kine, Gandharvas, and Apsaras, were born of Kapila as stated in the Purana. "'Thus hath been recited to thee by me the birth of all creatures duly--of Gandharvas and Apsaras, of Snakes, Suparnas, Rudras, and Maruts; of kine and of Brahmanas blessed with great good fortune, and of sacred deeds. And this account (if read) extendeth the span of life, is sacred, worthy of all praise, and giveth pleasure to the ear. It should be always heard and recited to others, in a proper frame of mind. "'He who duly readeth this account of the birth of all high-souled creatures in the presence of the gods and Brahmanas, obtaineth large progeny, good fortune, and fame, and attaineth also to excellent worlds hereafter.'" SECTION LXVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'It is known that the spiritual sons of Brahman were the six great Rishis (already mentioned). There was another of the name of Sthanu. And the sons of Sthanu, gifted with great energy, were, it is known, eleven. They were Mrigavayadha, Sarpa, Niriti of great fame: Ajaikapat, Ahivradhna, and Pinaki, the oppressor of foes; Dahana and Iswara, and Kapali of great splendour; and Sthanu, and the illustrious Bharga. These are called the eleven Rudras. It hath been already said, that Marichi, Angiras, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, and Kratu--these six great Rishis of great energy--are the sons of Brahman. It is well-known in the world that Angiras's sons are three,--Vrihaspati, Utathya, and Samvarta, all of rigid vows. And, O king, it is said that the sons of Atri are numerous. And, being great Rishis, they are all conversant with the Vedas, crowned with ascetic success, and of souls in perfect peace. And, O tiger among kings, the sons of Pulastya of great wisdom are Rakshasas, Monkeys, Kinnaras (half-men and half-horses), and Yakshas. And, O king, the sons of Pulaha were, it is said, the Salabhas (the winged insects), the lions, the Kimpurushas (half-lions and half-men), the tigers, bears, and wolves. And the sons of Kratu, sacred as sacrifices, are the companions of Surya, the Valikhilyas, known in three worlds and devoted to truth and vows. And, O protector of the Earth, the illustrious Rishi Daksha, of soul in complete peace, and of great asceticism, sprung from the right toe of Brahman. And from the left toe of Brahman sprang the wife of the high-souled Daksha. And the Muni begat upon her fifty daughters; and all those daughters were of faultless features and limbs and of eyes like lotus-petals. And the lord Daksha, not having any sons, made those daughters his Putrikas (so that their sons might belong both to himself and to their husbands). And Daksha bestowed, according to the sacred ordinance, ten of his daughters on Dharma, twenty-seven on Chandra (the Moon), and thirteen on Kasyapa. Listen as I recount the wives of Dharma according to their names. They are ten in all--Kirti, Lakshmi, Dhriti, Medha, Pushti, Sraddha, Kria, Buddhi, Lajja, and Mali. These are the wives of Dharma as appointed by the Self- create. It is known also throughout the world that the wives of Soma (Moon) are twenty-seven. And the wives of Soma, all of sacred vows, are employed in indicating time; and they are the Nakshatras and the Yoginis and they became so for assisting the courses of the worlds. "'And Brahman had another son named Manu. And Manu had a son of the name of Prajapati. And the sons of Prajapati were eight and were called Vasus whom I shall name in detail. They were Dhara, Dhruva, Soma, Aha, Anila, Anala, Pratyusha, and Prabhasa. These eight are known as the Vasus. Of these, Dhara and the truth-knowing Dhruva were born of Dhumra; Chandramas (Soma) and Swasana (Anila) were born of the intelligent Swasa; Aha was the son of Rata; and Hutasana (Anala) of Sandilya; and Pratyusha and Prabhasa were the sons of Prabhata. And Dhara had two sons, Dravina and Huta-havya-vaha. And the son of Dhruva is the illustrious Kala (Time), the destroyer of the worlds. And Soma's son is the resplendent Varchas. And Varchas begot upon his wife Manohara two sons--Sisira, and Ramana. And the sons of Aha were Jyotih, Sama, Santa, and also Muni. And the son of Agni is the handsome Kumara born in a forest of reeds. And, he is also called Kartikeya because he was reared by Krittika and others. And, after Kartikeya, there were born his three brothers Sakha, Visakha, Naigameya. And the wife of Anila is Siva, and Siva's son were Manojava and Avijnataagati. These two were the sons of Anila. The son of Pratyusha, you must know, is the Rishi named Devala; and Devala had two sons who were both exceedingly forgiving and of great mental power. And the sister of Vrihaspati, the first of women, uttering the sacred truth, engaged in ascetic penances, roamed over the whole earth; and she became the wife of Prabhasa, the eighth Vasu. And she brought forth the illustrious Viswakarman, the founder of all arts. And he was the originator of a thousand arts, the engineer of the immortals, the maker of all kinds of ornaments, and the first of artists. And he it was who constructed the celestial cars of the gods, and mankind are enabled to live in consequence of the inventions of that illustrious one. And he is worshipped, for that reason, by men. And he is eternal and immutable, this Viswakarman. "'And the illustrious Dharma, the dispenser of all happiness, assuming a human countenance, came out through the right breast of Brahman. And Ahasta (Dharma) hath three excellent sons capable of charming every creature. And they are Sama, Kama, Harsha (Peace, Desire, and Joy). And by their energy they are supporting the worlds. And the wife of Kama is Rati, of Sama is Prapti; and the wife of Harsha is Nanda. And upon them, indeed, are the worlds made to depend. "'And the son of Marichi is Kasyapa. And Kasyapa's offspring are the gods and the Asuras. And, therefore, is Kasyapa, the Father of the worlds. And Tvashtri, of the form of Vadava (a mare), became the wife of Savitri. And she gave birth, in the skies, to two greatly fortunate twins, the Aswins. And, O king, the sons of Aditi are twelve with Indra heading them all. And the youngest of them all was Vishnu upon whom the worlds depend. "'These are the thirty-three gods (the eight Vasus, the eleven Rudras, the twelve Adityas, Prajapati, and Vashatkara). I shall now recount their progeny according to their Pakshas, Kulas, and Ganas. The Rudras, the Saddhyas, the Maruts, the Vasus, the Bhargavas, and the Viswedevas are each reckoned as a Paksha. Garuda the son of Vinata and the mighty Aruna also, and the illustrious Vrihaspati are reckoned among the Adityas. The twin Aswins, all annual plants, and all inferior animals, are reckoned among the Guhyakas. "'These are the Ganas of the gods recited to thee, O king! This recitation washes men of all sins. "'The illustrious Bhrigu came out, ripping open the breast of Brahman. The learned Sukra is Bhrigu's son. And the learned Sukra becoming a planet and engaged according to the command of the Self-existent in pouring and withholding rain, and in dispensing and remitting calamities, traverses, for sustaining the lives of all the creatures in the three worlds, through the skies. And the learned Sukra, of great intelligence and wisdom, of rigid vows, leading the life of a Brahmacharin, divided himself in twain by power of asceticism, and became the spiritual guide of both the Daityas and the gods. And after Sukra was thus employed by Brahman in seeking the welfare (of the gods and the Asuras), Bhrigu begot another excellent son. This was Chyavana who was like the blazing sun, of virtuous soul, and of great fame. And he came out of his mother's womb in anger and became the cause of his mother's release, O king (from the hands of the Rakshasas). And Arushi, the daughter of Manu, became the wife of the wise Chyavana. And on her was begotten Aurva of great reputation. And he came out, ripping open the thigh of Arushi. And Aurva begot Richika. And Richika even in his boyhood became possessed of great power and energy, and of every virtue. And Richika begot Jamadagni. And the high-souled Jamadagni had four sons. And the youngest of them all was Rama (Parasurama). And Rama was superior to all his brothers in the possession of good qualities. And he was skilful in all weapons, and became the slayer of the Kshatriyas. And he had his passions under complete control. And Aurva had a hundred sons with Jamadagni the eldest. And these hundred sons had offspring by thousands spread over this earth. "'And Brahman had two other sons, viz., Dhatri and Vidhatri who stayed with Manu. Their sister is the auspicious Lakshmi having her abode amid lotuses. And the spiritual sons of Lakshmi are the sky-ranging horses. And the daughter born of Sukra, named Divi, became the eldest wife of Varuna. Of her were born a son named Vala and a daughter named Sura (wine), to the joy of the gods. And Adharma (Sin) was born when creatures (from want of food) began to devour one another. And Adharma always destroys every creature. And Adharma hath Niriti for his wife, whence the Rakshasas who are called Nairitas (offspring of Niriti). And she hath also three other cruel sons always engaged in sinful deeds. They are Bhaya (fear), Mahabhaya (terror), and Mrityu (Death) who is always engaged in slaying every created thing. And, as he is all-destroying, he hath no wife, and no son. And Tamra brought forth five daughters known throughout the worlds. They are Kaki (crow), Syeni (hawk), Phasi (hen), Dhritarashtri (goose), and Suki (parrot). And Kaki brought forth the crows; Syeni, the hawks, the cocks and vultures; Dhritarashtri, all ducks and swans; and she also brought forth all Chakravakas; and the fair Suki, of amiable qualities, and possessing all auspicious signs brought forth all the parrots. And Krodha gave birth to nine daughters, all of wrathful disposition. And their names were Mrigi, Mrigamanda, Hari, Bhadramana, Matangi, Sarduli, Sweta, Surabhi, and the agreeable Surasa blessed with every virtue. And, O foremost of men, the offspring of Mrigi are all animals of the deer species. And the offspring of Mrigamanda are all animals of the bear species and those called Srimara (sweet-footed). And Bhadramana begot the celestial elephants, Airavata. And the offspring of Hari are all animals of the simian species endued with great activity, so also all the horses. And those animals also, that are called Go-langula (the cow-tailed), are said to be the offspring of Hari. And Sarduli begot lions and tigers in numbers, and also leopards and all other strong animals. And, O king, the offspring of Matangi are all the elephants. And Sweta begat the large elephant known by the name of Sweta, endued with great speed. And, O king, Surabhi gave birth to two daughters, the amiable Rohini and the far-famed Gandharvi. And, O Bharata, she had also two other daughters named Vimala and Anala. From Rohini have sprung all kine, and from Gandharvi all animals of the horse species. And Anala begat the seven kinds of trees yielding pulpy fruits. (They are the date, the palm, the hintala, the tali, the little date, the nut, and the cocoanut.) And she had also another daughter called Suki (the mother of the parrot species). And Surasa bore a son called Kanka (a species of long-feathered birds). And Syeni, the wife of Aruna, gave birth to two sons of great energy and strength, named Sampati and the mighty Jatayu. Surasa also bore the Nagas, and Kadru, the Punnagas (snakes). And Vinata had two sons Garuda and Aruna, known far and wide. And, O king of men, O foremost of intelligent persons, thus hath the genealogy of all the principal creatures been fully described by me. By listening to this, a man is fully cleansed of all his sins, and acquireth great knowledge, and finally attaineth to the first of states in after- life!'" SECTION LXVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O worshipful one, I wish to hear from thee in detail about the birth, among men, of the gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Rakshasas, the lions, the tigers, and the other animals, the snakes, the birds, and in fact, of all creatures. I wish also to hear about the acts and achievements of those, in due order, after they became incarnate in human forms.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O king of men, I shall first tell thee all about those celestials and Danavas that were born among men--The first of Danavas, who was known by the name of Viprachitti, became that bull among men, noted as Jarasandha. And, O king, that son of Diti, who was known as Hiranyakasipu, was known in this world among men as the powerful Sisupala. He who had been known as Samhlada, the younger brother of Prahlada, became among men the famous Salya, that bull amongst Valhikas. The spirited Anuhlada who had been the youngest became noted in the world as Dhrishtaketu. And, O king, that son of Diti who had been known as Sivi became on earth the famous monarch Druma. And he who was known as the great Asura Vashkala became on earth the great Bhagadatta. The five great Asuras gifted with great energy, Ayahsira, Aswasira, the spirited Aysanku, Gaganamurdhan, and Vegavat, were all born in the royal line of Kekaya and all became great monarchs. That other Asura of mighty energy who was known by the name of Ketumat became on earth the monarch Amitaujas of terrible deeds. That great Asura who was known as Swarbhanu became on earth the monarch Ugrasena of fierce deeds. That great Asura who was known as Aswa became on earth the monarch Asoka of exceeding energy and invincible in battle. And, O king, the younger brother of Aswa who was known as Aswapati, a son of Diti, became on earth the mighty monarch Hardikya. The great and fortunate Asura who was known as Vrishaparvan became noted on earth as king Dirghaprajna. And, O king, the younger brother of Vrishaparvan who was known by the name of Ajaka became noted on earth as king Salwa. The powerful and mighty Asura who was known as Aswagriva became noted on earth as king Rochamana. And, O king, the Asura who was known as Sukshma, endued with great intelligence and whose achievements also were great, became on earth the famous king Vrihadratha. And that first of Asuras who was known by the name of Tuhunda, became noted on earth as the monarch, Senavindu. That Asura of great strength who was known as Ishupa became the monarch Nagnajita of famous prowess. The great Asura who was known as Ekachakra became noted on earth as Pritivindhya. The great Asura Virupaksha capable of displaying various modes of fight became noted on earth as king Chitravarman. The first of Danavas, the heroic Hara, who humbled the pride of all foes became on earth the famous and fortunate Suvahu. The Asura Suhtra of great energy and the destroyer of foemen, became noted on earth as the fortunate monarch, Munjakesa. That Asura of great intelligence called Nikumbha, who was never vanquished in battle was born on earth as king Devadhipa, the first among monarchs. That great Asura known amongst the sons of Diti by the name of Sarabha became on earth the royal sage called Paurava. And, O king, the great Asura of exceeding energy, the fortunate Kupatha, was born on earth as the famous monarch Suparswa. The great Asura, O king, who was called Kratha, was born on earth as the royal sage Parvateya of form resplendent like a golden mountain. He amongst the Asura who was known as Salabha the second, became on earth the monarch Prahlada in the country of the Valhikas. The foremost, among the sons of Diti known by the name of Chandra and handsome as the lord of the stars himself, became on earth noted as Chandravarman, the king of the Kamvojas. That bull amongst the Danavas who was known by the name of Arka became on earth, O king, the royal sage Rishika. That best of Asuras who was known as Mritapa became on earth, O best of kings, the monarch, Pascimanupaka. That great Asura of surpassing energy known as Garishtha became noted on earth as king Drumasena. The great Asura who was known as Mayura became noted on earth as the monarch Viswa. He who was the younger brother of Mayura and called Suparna became noted on earth as the monarch, Kalakirti. The mighty Asura who was known as Chandrahantri became on earth the royal sage Sunaka. The great Asura who was called Chandravinasana became noted on earth as the monarch, Janaki. That bull amongst the Danavas, O prince of the Kuru race, who was called Dhirghajihva, became noted on earth as Kasiraja. The Graha who was brought forth by Sinhika and who persecuted the Sun and the Moon became noted on earth as the monarch Kratha. The eldest of the four sons of Danayu, who was known by the name of Vikshara, became known on earth the spirited monarch, Vasumitra. The second brother of Vikshara, the great Asura, was born on earth as the king of the country, called Pandya. That best of Asuras who was known by the name of Valina became on earth the monarch Paundramatsyaka. And, O king, that great Asura who was known as Vritra became on earth the royal sage known by the name of Manimat. That Asura who was the younger brother of Vritra and known as Krodhahantri became noted on earth as king Danda. That other Asura who was known by the name Krodhavardhana became noted on earth as the monarch, Dandadhara. The eight sons of the Kaleyas that were born on earth all became great kings endued with the prowess of tigers. The eldest of them all became king Jayatsena in Magadha. The second of them, in prowess, like Indra, became noted on earth as Aparajita. The third of them, endued with great energy and power of producing deception, was born on earth as the king of the Nishadas gifted with great prowess. That other amongst them who was known as the fourth was noted on earth as Srenimat, that best of royal sages. That great Asura amongst them who was the fifth, became noted on earth as king Mahanjas, the oppressor of enemies. That great Asura possessing great intelligence who was the sixth of them became noted on earth as Abhiru, that best of royal sages. The seventh of them became known throughout earth, from the centre to the sea, as king Samudrasena well acquainted with the truths of the scriptures. The eighth of the Kaleyas known as Vrihat became on earth a virtuous king ever engaged in the good of all creatures. The mighty Danava known by the name of Kukshi became on earth as Parvatiya from his brightness as of a golden mountain. The mighty Asura Krathana gifted with great energy became noted on earth as the monarch Suryaksha. The great Asura of handsome features known by the name of Surya, became on earth the monarch of the Valhikas by name Darada, that foremost of all kings. And, O king, from the tribe of Asuras called Krodhavasa, of whom I have already spoken to thee, were born many heroic kings on earth. Madraka, and Karnaveshta, Siddhartha, and also Kitaka; Suvira, and Suvahu, and Mahavira, and also Valhika, Kratha, Vichitra, Suratha, and the handsome king Nila; and Chiravasa, and Bhumipala; and Dantavakra, and he who was called Durjaya; that tiger amongst kings named Rukmi; and king Janamejaya, Ashada, and Vayuvega, and also Bhuritejas; Ekalavya, and Sumitra, Vatadhana, and also Gomukha; the tribe of kings called the Karushakas, and also Khemadhurti; Srutayu, and Udvaha, and also Vrihatsena; Kshema, Ugratirtha, the king of the Kalingas; and Matimat, and he was known as king Iswara; these first of kings were all born of the Asura class called Krodhavasa. "'There was also born on earth a mighty Asura known amongst the Danavas by the name of Kalanemi, endued with great strength, of grand achievements, and blessed with a large share of prosperity. He became the mighty son of Ugrasena and was known on earth by the name of Kansa. And he who was known among the Asuras by the name of Devaka and was besides in splendour like unto Indra himself, was born on earth as the foremost king of the Gandharvas. And, O monarch, know thou that Drona, the son of Bharadwaja, not born of any woman, sprung from a portion of the celestial Rishi Vrihaspati of grand achievements. And he was the prince of all bowmen, conversant with all weapons, of mighty achievements, of great energy. Thou shouldst know he was also well-acquainted with the Vedas and the science of arms. And he was of wonderful deeds and the pride of his race. And, O king, his son the heroic Aswatthaman, of eyes like the lotus-petals, gifted with surpassing energy, and the terror of all foes, the great oppressor of all enemies, was born on earth, of the united portions of Mahadeva, Yama, Kama, and Krodha. And from the curse of Vasishtha and the command also of Indra, the eight Vasus were born of Ganga by her husband Santanu. The youngest of them was Bhishma, the dispeller of the fears of the Kurus, gifted with great intelligence, conversant with the Vedas, the first speakers, and the thinner of the enemy's ranks. And possessed of mighty energy and the first of all persons acquainted with weapons, he encountered the illustrious Rama himself, the son of Jamadagni of the Bhrigu race. And, O king, that Brahman sage who, on earth, was known by the name of Kripa and was the embodiment of all manliness was born of the tribe of the Rudras. And the mighty chariot-fighter and king who on earth was known by the name of Sakuni, that crusher of foes, thou shouldst know, O king, was Dwapara himself (the third yuga). And he who was Satyaki of sure aim, that upholder of the pride of Vrishni race, that oppressor of foes, begotten of the portion of gods called the Maruts. And that royal sage Drupada who on earth was a monarch, the first among all persons bearing arms, was also born of the same tribe of the celestials. And, O king, thou shouldst also know that Kritavarman, that prince among men, of deeds unsurpassed by any one, and the foremost of all bulls amongst Kshatriyas, was born of the portion of the same celestials. And that royal sage also, Virata by name, the scorcher of the kingdoms of others, and the great oppressor of all foes, was born of the portion of the same gods. That son of Arishta who was known by the name of Hansa, was born in the Kuru race and became the monarch of the Gandharvas. He who was known as Dhritarashtra born of the seed of Krishna-Dwaipayana, and gifted with long arms and great energy, also a monarch, of the prophetic eye, became blind in consequence of the fault of his mother and the wrath of the Rishi. His younger brother who was possessed of great strength and was really a great being known as Pandu, devoted to truth and virtue, was Purity's self. And, O king, thou shouldst know that he who was known on earth as Vidura, who was the first of all virtuous men, who was the god of Justice himself, was the excellent and greatly fortunate son of the Rishi Atri. The evil-minded and wicked king Duryodhana, the destroyer of the fair fame of the Kurus, was born of a portion of Kali on earth. He it was who caused all creatures to be slain and the earth to be wasted; and he it was who fanned the flame of hostility that ultimately consumed all. They who had been the sons of Pulastya (the Rakshasas) were born on earth among men of Duryodhana's brothers, that century of wicked individuals commencing with Duhsasana as their first. And, O bull among the Bharata princes, Durmukha, Duhsaha, and others whose names I do not mention, who always supported Duryodhana (in all his schemes), were, indeed, the sons of Pulastya. And over and above these hundred, Dhritarashtra had one son named Yuyutsu born of a Vaisya wife.' "Janamejaya said, 'O illustrious one, tell me the names of Dhritarashtra's sons according to the order of their birth beginning from the eldest.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O king, they are as follows: Duryodhana, and Yuyutsu, and also Duhsasana; Duhsaha and Duhshala, and then Durmukha; Vivinsati, and Vikarna, Jalasandha, Sulochna, Vinda and Anuvinda, Durdharsha, Suvahu, Dushpradharshana; Durmarshana, and Dushkarna, and Karna; Chitra and Vipachitra, Chitraksha, Charuchitra, and Angada, Durmada, and Dushpradharsha, Vivitsu, Vikata, Sama; Urananabha, and Padmanabha, Nanda and Upanandaka; Sanapati, Sushena, Kundodara; Mahodara; Chitravahu, and Chitravarman, Suvarman, Durvirochana; Ayovahu, Mahavahu, Chitrachapa and Sukundala, Bhimavega, Bhimavala, Valaki, Bhimavikrama, Ugrayudha, Bhimaeara, Kanakayu, Dridhayudha, Dridhavarman, Dridhakshatra Somakirti, Anadara; Jarasandha, Dridhasandha, Satyasandha, Sahasravaeh; Ugrasravas, Ugrasena, and Kshemamurti; Aprajita, Panditaka, Visalaksha, Duradhara, Dridhahasta, and Suhasta, Vatavega, and Suvarchasa; Adityaketu, Vahvasin, Nagadatta and Anuyaina; Nishangi, Kuvachi, Dandi, Dandadhara, Dhanugraha; Ugra, Bhimaratha, Vira, Viravahu, Alolupa; Abhaya, and Raudrakarman, also he who was Dridharatha; Anadhrishya, Kundaveda, Viravi, Dhirghalochana; Dirghavahu; Mahavahu; Vyudhoru, Kanakangana; Kundaja and Chitraka. There was also a daughter named Duhsala who was over and above the hundred. And Yuyutsu who was Dhritarashtra's son by a Vaisya wife, was also over and above the hundred. Thus, O king, have I recited the names of the hundred sons and also that of the daughter (of Dhritarashtra). Thou hast now known their names according to the order of their births. All of them were heroes and great car-warriors, and skilled in the art of warfare. Besides, all of them were versed in the Vedas, and, O king, all of them had got through the scriptures. All of them were mighty in attack and defence, and all were graced with learning. And, O monarch, all of them had wives suitable to them in grace and accomplishments. And, O king, when the time came, the Kaurava monarch bestowed his daughter Duhsala on Jayadratha, the king of the Sindhus, agreeably to the counsels of Sakuni. "'And, O monarch, learn that king Yudhishthira was a portion of Dharma; that Bhimasena was of the deity of wind; that Arjuna was of Indra, the chief of the celestials; and that Nakula and Sahadeva, the handsomest beings among all creatures, and unrivalled for beauty on earth, were similarly portions of the twin Aswins. And he who was known as the mighty Varchas, the son of Soma, became Abhimanyu of wonderful deeds, the son of Arjuna. And before his incarnation, O king, the god Soma had said these words to the celestials, "I cannot give (part with) my son. He is dearer to me than life itself. Let this be the compact and let it be not transgressed. The destruction of the Asuras on earth is the work of the celestials, and, therefore, it is our work as well. Let this Varchas, therefore, go thither, but let him not stay there long. Nara, whose companion is Narayana, will be born as Indra's son and indeed, will be known as Arjuna, the mighty son of Pandu. This boy of mine shall be his son and become a mighty car-warrior in his boyhood. And let him, ye best of immortals, stay on earth for sixteen years. And when he attaineth to his sixteenth year, the battle shall take place in which all who are born of your portions shall achieve the destruction of mighty warriors. But a certain encounter shall take place without both Nara and Narayana (taking any part in it). And, indeed, your portions, ye celestials, shall fight, having made that disposition of the forces which is known by the name of the Chakra-vyuha. And my son shall compel all foes to retreat before him. The boy of mighty arms having penetrated the impenetrable array, shall range within it fearlessly and send a fourth part of the hostile force, in course of half a day, unto the regions of the king of the dead. Then when numberless heroes and mighty car-warriors will return to the charge towards the close of the day, my boy of mighty arms, shall reappear before me. And he shall beget one heroic son in his line, who shall continue the almost extinct Bharata race." Hearing these words of Soma, the dwellers in heaven replied, "So be it." And then all together applauded and worshipped (Soma) the king of stars. Thus, O king, have I recited to thee the (particulars of the) birth of thy father's father. "'Know also, O monarch, that the mighty car-warrior Dhrishtadyumna was a portion of Agni. And know also that Sikhandin, who was at first a female, was (the incarnation of) a Rakshasa. And, O bull in Bharata's race, they who became the five sons of Draupadi, those bulls amongst the Bharata princes, were the celestials known as the Viswas. Their names were Pritivindhya, Sutasoma, Srutakirti, Satanika, Nakula, and Srutasena, endued with mighty energy. "'Sura, the foremost of the Yadus, was the father of Vasudeva. He had a daughter called Pritha, who for her beauty, was unrivalled on earth. And Sura, having promised in the presence of fire that he would give his firstborn child to Kuntibhoja, the son of his paternal aunt, who was without offspring, gave his daughter unto the monarch in expectation of his favours. Kuntibhoja thereupon made her his daughter. And she became, thenceforth, in the house of her (adoptive) father, engaged in attending upon Brahmanas and guests. One day she had to wait upon the wrathful ascetic of rigid vows, Durvasa by name, acquainted with truth and fully conversant with the mysteries of religion. And Pritha with all possible care gratified the wrathful Rishi with soul under complete control. The holy one, gratified with the attentions bestowed on him by the maiden, told her, "I am satisfied, O fortunate one, with thee! By this mantra (that I am about to give thee), thou shall be able to summon (to thy side) whatever celestials thou likest. And, by their grace, shall thou also obtain children." Thus addressed, the girl (a little while after), seized with curiosity, summoned, during the period of her maiden-hood, the god Surya. And the lord of light thereupon made her conceive and begot on her a son who became the first of all wielders of weapons. From fear of relatives she brought forth in secrecy that child who had come out with ear-rings and coat of mail. And he was gifted with the beauty of a celestial infant, and in splendour was like unto the maker of day himself. And every part of his body was symmetrical and well-adorned. And Kunti cast the handsome child into the water. But the child thus thrown into the water was taken up by the excellent husband of Radha and given by him to his wife to be adopted by her as their son. And the couple gave him the name of Vasusena, by which appellation the child soon became known all over the land. And, as he grew up, he became very strong and excelled in all weapons. The first of all successful persons, he soon mastered the sciences. And when the intelligent one having truth for his strength recited the Vedas, there was nothing he would not then give to the Brahmanas. At that time Indra, the originator of all things, moved by the desire of benefiting his own son Arjuna, assumed the guise of a Brahmana, came to him, and begged of the hero his ear-rings and natural armour. And the hero taking off his ear-rings and armour gave them unto the Brahmana. And Sakra (accepting the gift) presented to the giver a dart, surprised (at his open handedness), and addressed him in these words, "O invincible one, amongst the celestials, Asuras, men, Gandharvas, Nagas, and Rakshasas, he at whom thou hurlest (this weapon), that one shall certainly be slain." And the son of Surya was at first known in the world by the name of Vasusena. But, for his deeds, he subsequently came to be called Karna. And because that hero of great fame had taken off his natural armour, therefore was he--the first son of Pritha--called Karna. And, O best of kings, the hero began to grow up in the Suta caste. And, O king, know thou that Karna--the first of all exalted men--the foremost of all wielders of weapons--the slayer of foes--and the best portion of the maker of day--was the friend and counsellor of Duryodhana. And he, called Vasudeva, endued with great valour, was among men a portion of him called Narayana--the god of gods--eternal. And Valadeva of exceeding strength was a portion of the Naga, Sesha. And, O monarch, know that Pradyumna of great energy was Sanatkumara. And in this way the portion of various other dwellers in heaven became exalted men in the race of Vasudeva, increasing the glory thereof. And, O king, the portions of the tribe of Apsaras which I have mentioned already, also became incarnate on earth according to Indra's commands--And sixteen thousand portions of those goddesses became, O king, in this world of men, the wives of Vasudeva. And a portion of Sri herself became incarnate on earth, for the gratification of Narayana, in the line of Bhishmaka. And she was by name the chaste Rukmini. And the faultless Draupadi, slender-waisted like the wasp, was born of a portion of Sachi (the queen of the celestials), in the line of Drupada. And she was neither low nor tall in stature. And she was of the fragrance of the blue lotus, of eyes large as lotus-petals, of thighs fair and round, of dense masses of black curly hair. And endued with every auspicious feature and of complexion like that of the emerald, she became the charmer of the hearts of five foremost of men. And the two goddesses Siddhi and Dhriti became the mothers of those five, and were called Kunti and Madri. And she who was Mati became the daughter (Gandhari) of Suvala. "'Thus, O king, have I recited to thee all about the incarnation, according to their respective portions, of the gods, the Asuras, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, and of the Rakshasas. They who were born on earth as monarchs invincible in battle, those high-souled ones who were born in the wide extended line of the Yadus, they who were born as mighty monarchs in other lines, they who were born as Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas, have all been recited by me duly. And this account of the incarnation (of superior beings according to their respective portions) capable of bestowing wealth, fame, offspring, long life, and success, should always be listened to in a proper frame of mind. And having listened to this account of incarnation, according to their portions, of gods, Gandharvas, and Rakshasas, the hearer becoming acquainted with the creation, preservation, and destruction of the universe and acquiring wisdom, is never cast down even under the most engrossing sorrows.'" SECTION LXVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O Brahmana, I have, indeed, heard from thee this account of the incarnation, according to their portions, of the gods, the Danavas, the Rakshasas, and also of the Gandharvas and the Apsaras. I however, again desire to hear of the dynasty of the Kurus from the very beginning. Therefore, O Brahmana, speak of this in the presence of all these regenerate Rishis.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O exalted one of Bharata's race, the founder of the Paurava line was Dushmanta gifted with great energy. And he was the protector of the earth bounded by the four seas. And that king had full sway over four quarters of this world. And he was the lord also of various regions in the midst of the sea. And that great oppressor of all foes had sway over the countries even of the Mlechchhas. "'And during his rule there were no men of mixed castes, no tillers of the soil (for the land, of itself, yielded produce), no workers of mines (for the surface of the earth yielded in abundance), and no sinful men. All were virtuous, and did everything from virtuous motives, O tiger among men. There was no fear of thieves, O dear one, no fear of famine, no fear of disease. And all four orders took pleasure in doing their respective duties and never performed religious acts for obtaining fruition of desires. And his subjects, depending upon him, never entertained any fear. And Parjanya (Indra) poured showers at the proper time, and the produce of the fields was always pulpy and juicy. And the earth was full of all kinds of wealth and all kinds of animals. And the Brahmanas were always engaged in their duties and they were always truthful. And the youthful monarch was endued with wonderful prowess and a physical frame hard as the thunderbolt, so that he could, taking up the mountain Mandara with its forests and bushes, support it on his arms. And he was well-skilled in four kinds of encounters with the mace (hurling it at foes at a distance, striking at those that are near, whirling it in the midst of many, and driving the foe before). And he was skilled also in the use of all kinds of weapons and in riding elephants and horses. And in strength he was like unto Vishnu, in splendour like unto the maker of day, in gravity like unto the ocean, and in patience, like unto the earth. And the monarch was loved by all his subjects, and he ruled his contented people virtuously.'" SECTION LXIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'I desire to hear from thee about the birth and life of the high-souled Bharata and of the origin of Sakuntala. And, O holy one, I also desire to hear all about Dushmanta--that lion among men--and how the hero obtained Sakuntala. It behoveth thee, O knower of truth and the first of all intelligent men, to tell me everything.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Once on a time (king Dushmanta) of mighty arms, accompanied by a large force, went into the forest. And he took with him hundreds of horses and elephants. And the force that accompanied the monarch was of four kinds (foot-soldiers, car-warriors, cavalry, and elephants)--heroes armed with swords and darts and bearing in their hands maces and stout clubs. And surrounded by hundreds of warriors with lances and spears in their hands, the monarch set out on his journey. And with the leonine roars of the warriors and the notes of conchs and sound of drums, with the rattle of the car-wheels and shrieks of huge elephants, all mingling with the neighing of horses and the clash of weapons of the variously armed attendants in diverse dresses, there arose a deafening tumult while the king was on his march. And ladies gifted with great beauty beheld from the terraces of goodly mansions that heroic monarch, the achiever of his own fame. And the ladies saw that he was like unto Sakra, the slayer of his enemies, capable of repulsing the elephants of foes--And they believed that he was the wielder of the thunderbolt himself. And they said, "This is that tiger among men who in battle is equal unto the Vasus in prowess, and in consequence of the might of whose arms no foes are left." And saying this, the ladies from affection gratified the monarch by showering flowers on his head. And followed by foremost of Brahmanas uttering blessings all the way, the king in great gladness of heart went towards the forest, eager for slaying the deer. And many Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras, followed the monarch who was like unto the king of the celestials seated on the back of a proud elephant. The citizens and other classes followed the monarch for some distance. And they at last refrained from going farther at the command of the king. And the king, then, ascending his chariot of winged speed, filled the whole earth and even the heavens, with the rattle of his chariot wheels. And, as he went, he saw around him a forest like unto Nandana itself (the celestial garden). And it was full of Vilwa, Arka, Khadira (catechu), Kapittha (wood-apple) and Dhava trees. And he saw that the soil was uneven and scattered over with blocks of stone loosened from the neighbouring cliffs. And he saw that it was without water and without human beings and lay extended for many Yojanas around. And it was full of deer, and lions, and other terrible beasts of prey. "'And king Dushmanta, that tiger among men, assisted by his followers and the warriors in his train, agitated that forest, killing numerous animals. And Dushmanta, piercing them with his arrows, felled numerous tigers that were within shooting range. And the king wounded many that were too distant, and killed many that were too near with his heavy sword. And that foremost of all wielders of darts killed many by hurling his darts at them. And well-conversant with the art of whirling the mace, the king of immeasurable prowess fearlessly wandered over the forest. And the king roamed about, killing the denizens of the wilderness sometimes with his sword and sometimes by fast-descending blows of his mace and heavy club. "'And when the forest was so disturbed by the king possessed of wonderful energy and by the warriors in his train delighting in warlike sports, the lions began to desert it in numbers. And herds of animals deprived of their leaders, from fear and anxiety began to utter loud cries as they fled in all directions. And fatigued with running, they began to fall down on all sides, unable to slake their thirst, having reached river-beds that were perfectly dry. And many so falling were eaten up by the hungry warriors, while others were eaten up after having been duly quartered and roasted in fires lit up by them. And many strong elephants, maddened with the wounds they received and alarmed beyond measure, fled with trunks raised on high. And those wild elephants, betraying the usual symptoms of alarm by urinating and ejecting the contents of their stomachs and vomiting blood in large quantities, trampled, as they ran, many warriors to death. And that forest which had been full of animals, was by the king with his bands of followers and with sharp weapons soon made bereft of lions and tigers and other monarchs of the wilderness.'" SECTION LXX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then the king with his followers, having killed thousands of animals, entered another forest with a view to hunting. And attended by a single follower and fatigued with hunger and thirst, he came upon a large desert on the frontiers of the forest. And having crossed this herbless plain, the king came upon another forest full of the retreats of ascetics, beautiful to look at, delightful to the heart and of cool agreeable breezes. And it was full of trees covered with blossoms, the soil overgrown with the softest and greenest grass, extending for many miles around, and echoing with the sweet notes of winged warblers. And it resounded with the notes of the male Kokila and of the shrill cicala. And it was full of magnificent trees with outstretched branches forming a shady canopy overhead. And the bees hovered over flowery creepers all around. And there were beautiful bowers in every place. And there was no tree without fruits, none that had prickles on it, none that had no bees swarming around it. And the whole forest resounded with the melody of winged choristers. And it was decked with the flowers of every season. And there were refreshing shades of blossoming trees. "'Such was the delicious and excellent forest that the great bowman entered. And trees with branches beautified with clusters began to wave gently at the soft breeze and rain their flowers over the monarch's head. And the trees, clad in their flowery attires of all colours, with sweet- throated warblers perched on them, stood there in rows with heads touching the very heavens. And around their branches hanging down with the weight of flowers the bees tempted by the honey hummed in sweet chorus. And the king, endued with great energy, beholding innumerable spots covered with bowers of creepers decked with clusters of flowers, from excess of gladness, became very much charmed. And the forest was exceedingly beautiful in consequence of those trees ranged around with flowery branches twining with each other and looking like so many rainbows for gaudiness and variety of colour. And it was the resort of bands of Siddhas, of the Charanas, of tribes of Gandharvas, and Apsaras, of monkeys and Kinnaras drunk with delight. Delicious cool, and fragrant breezes, conveying the fragrance from fresh flowers, blew in all directions as if they had come there to sport with the trees. And the king saw that charming forest gifted with such beauties. And it was situated in a delta of the river, and the cluster of high trees standing together lent the place the look of a gaudy pole erected to Indra's honour. "'And in that forest which was the resort of ever cheerful birds, the monarch saw a delightful and charming retreat of ascetics. And there were many trees around it. And the sacred fire was burning within it. And the king worshipped that unrivalled retreat. And he saw seated in it numerous Yotis, Valakhilyas and other Munis. And it was adorned with many chambers containing sacrificial fire. And the flowers dropping from the trees had formed a thick carpet spread over the ground. And the spot looked exceedingly beautiful with those tall trees of large trunks. And by it flowed, O king, the sacred and transparent Malini with every species of water-fowl playing on its bosom. And that stream infused gladness into the hearts of the ascetics who resorted to it for purposes of ablutions. And the king beheld on its banks many innocent animals of the deer species and was exceedingly delighted with all that he saw. "'And the monarch, the course of whose chariot no foe could obstruct, then entered that asylum which was like unto the region of the celestials, being exceedingly beautiful all over. And the king saw that it stood on the margin of the sacred stream which was like the mother of all the living creatures residing in its vicinage. And on its bank sported the Chakravaka, and waves of milkwhite foam. And there stood also the habitations of Kinnaras. And monkeys and bears too disported themselves in numbers. And there lived also holy ascetics engaged in studies and meditation. And there could be seen also elephants and tigers and snakes. And it was on the banks of that stream that the excellent asylum of the illustrious Kasyapa stood, offering a home to numerous Rishis of great ascetic merit. And beholding that river, and also the asylum washed by that river which was studded with many islands and which possessed banks of so much beauty,--an asylum like unto that of Nara and Narayana laved by the water of the Ganga--the king resolved to enter into that sacred abode. And that bull among men, desirous of beholding the great Rishi of ascetic wealth, the illustrious Kanwa of the race of Kasyapa, one who possessed every virtue and who, for his splendour, could be gazed at with difficulty, approached that forest resounding with the notes of maddened peacocks and like unto the gardens of the great Gandharva, Chitraratha, himself. And halting his army consisting of flags, cavalry, infantry, and elephants at the entrance of the forest, the monarch spoke as follows, "I shall go to behold the mighty ascetic of Kasyapa's race, one who is without darkness. Stay ye here until my return!" "'And the king having entered that forest which was like unto Indra's garden, soon forgot his hunger and thirst. And he was pleased beyond measure. And the monarch, laying aside all signs of royalty, entered that excellent asylum with but his minister and his priest, desirous of beholding that Rishi who was an indestructible mass of ascetic merit. And the king saw that the asylum was like unto the region of Brahman. Here were bees sweetly humming and there were winged warblers of various species pouring forth their melodies. At particular places that tiger among men heard the chanting of Rik hymns by first-rate Brahmanas according to the just rules of intonation. Other places again were graced with Brahmanas acquainted with ordinances of sacrifice, of the Angas and of the hymns of the Yajurveda. Other places again were filled with the harmonious strains of Saman hymns sung by vow-observing Rishis. At other places the asylum was decked with Brahmanas learned in the Atharvan Veda. At other places again Brahmanas learned in the Atharvan Veda and those capable of chanting the sacrificial hymns of the Saman were reciting the Samhitas according to the just rules of voice. And at other places again, other Brahmanas well-acquainted with the science of orthoepy were reciting mantras of other kinds. In fact, that sacred retreat resounding with these holy notes was like unto a second region of Brahman himself. And there were many Brahmanas skilled in the art of making sacrificial platforms and in the rules of Krama in sacrifices, conversant with logic and the mental sciences, and possessing a complete knowledge of the Vedas. There were those also who were fully acquainted with the meanings of all kinds of expressions; those that were conversant with all special rites, those also that were followers of Moksha-Dharma; those again that were well-skilled in establishing propositions, rejecting superfluous causes, and drawing right conclusions. There were those having a knowledge of the science of words (grammar), of prosody, of Nirukta; those again that were conversant with astrology and learned in the properties of matter and the fruits of sacrificial rites, possessing a knowledge of causes and effects, capable of understanding the cries of birds and monkeys, well-read in large treatises, and skilled in various sciences. And the king, as he proceeded, heard their voices. And the retreat resounded also with voice of men capable of charming human hearts. And the slayer of hostile heroes also saw around him learned Brahmanas of rigid vows engaged in Japa (the repeated muttering of the names of gods) and Homa (burnt-offering). And the king wondered much on beholding the beautiful carpets which those Brahmanas offered to him respectfully. And that best of monarchs, at the sight of the rites with which those Brahmanas worshipped the gods and the great Rishis, thought within himself that he was in the region of Brahman. And the more the king saw that auspicious and sacred asylum of Kasyapa protected by that Rishi's ascetic virtues and possessing all the requisites of a holy retreat, the more he desired to see it. In fact, he was not satisfied with his short survey. And the slayer of heroes at last, accompanied by his minister and his priest, entered that charming and sacred retreat of Kasyapa inhabited all around by Rishis of ascetic wealth and exalted vows.'" SECTION LXXI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The monarch then, as he proceeded, left even his reduced retinue at the entrance of the hermitage. And entering quite alone he saw not the Rishi (Kanwa) of rigid vows. And not seeing the Rishi and finding that the abode was empty, he called loudly, saying, "What ho, who is here?" And the sound of his voice was echoed back. And hearing the sound of his voice, there came out of the Rishi's abode a maiden beautiful as Sri herself but dressed as an ascetic's daughter. And the black-eyed fair one, as she saw king Dushmanta, bade him welcome and received him duly. And, showing him due respect by the offer of a seat, water to wash his feet, and Arghya, she enquired about the monarch's health and peace. And having worshipped the king and asked him about his health and peace, the maiden reverentially asked, "What must be done, O king! I await your commands." The king, duly worshipped by her, said unto that maiden of faultless features and sweet speech, "I have come to worship the highly- blessed Rishi Kanwa. Tell me, O amiable and beautiful one, where has the illustrious Rishi gone?" "'Sakuntala then answered, "My illustrious father hath gone away from the asylum to fetch fruit. Wait but a moment and thou wilt see him when he arrives."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The king not seeing the Rishi and addressed thus by her, beheld that the maiden was exceedingly beautiful and endued with perfect symmetry of shape. And he saw that she was of sweet smiles. And she stood decked with the beauty of her faultless features, her ascetic penances, and her humility. And he saw that she was in the bloom of youth. He therefore asked her, "Who art thou? And whose daughter, O beautiful one? Why hast thou come into the woods also? O handsome one, gifted with so much beauty and such virtues, whence hast thou come? O charming one, at the very first glance hast thou stolen my heart! I desire to learn all about thee; therefore tell me all." And thus addressed by the monarch, the maiden smilingly replied in these sweet words, "O Dushmanta, I am the daughter of the virtuous, wise, high-souled, and illustrious ascetic Kanwa." "'Dushmanta, hearing this, replied, "The universally-worshipped and highly- blessed Rishi is one whose seed hath been drawn up. Even Dharma himself might fall off from his course but an ascetic of rigid vows can never fall off so. Therefore, O thou of the fairest complexion, how hast thou been born as his daughter? This great doubt of mine it behoveth thee to dispel." "'Sakuntala then replied, "Hear, O king, what I have learnt regarding all that befell me of old and how I became the daughter of the Muni. Once on a time, a Rishi came here and asked about my birth. All that the illustrious one (Kanwa) told him, hear now from me, O king! "'"My father Kanwa, in answer to that Rishi's enquiries, said, 'Viswamitra, of old, having been engaged in the austerest penances alarmed Indra, the chief of the celestials, who thought that the mighty ascetic of blazing energy would, by his penances, hurl him down from his high seat in heaven. Indra, thus alarmed, summoned Menaka and told her, "Thou, O Menaka, art the first of celestial Apsaras. Therefore, O amiable one, do me this service. Hear what I say. This great ascetic Viswamitra like unto the Sun in splendour, is engaged in the most severe of penances. My heart is trembling with fear. Indeed, O slender-waisted Menaka, this is thy business. Thou must see that Viswamitra of soul rapt in contemplation and engaged in the austerest penances, who might hurl me down from my seat. Go and tempt him and frustrating his continued austerities accomplish my good. Win him away from his penances, O beautiful one, by tempting him with thy beauty, youth, agreeableness, arts, smiles and speech." Hearing all this, Menaka replied, "The illustrious Viswamitra is endued with great energy and is a mighty ascetic. He is very short-tempered too, as is known to thee. The energy, penances, and wrath of the high-souled one have made even thee anxious. Why should I not also be anxious? He it was who made even the illustrious Vasishtha bear the pangs of witnessing the premature death of his children. He it was who, though at first born as Kshatriya, subsequently became a Brahmana by virtue of his ascetic penances. He it was who, for purposes of his ablutions, created a deep river that can with difficulty be forded, and which sacred stream is known by the name of the Kausiki. It was Viswamitra whose wife, in a season of distress, was maintained by the royal sage Matanga (Trisanku) who was then living under a father's curse as a hunter. It was Viswamitra who, on returning after the famine was over, changed the name of the stream having his asylum from Kausik into Para. It was Viswamitra who in return for the services of Matanga, himself became the latter's priest for purposes of a sacrifice. The lord of the celestials himself went through fear to drink the Soma juice. It was Viswamitra who in anger created a second world and numerous stars beginning with Sravana. He it was who granted protection to Trisanku smarting under a superior's curse. I am frightened to approach him of such deeds. Tell me, O Indra, the means that should be adopted so that I may not be burnt by his wrath. He can burn the three worlds by his splendour, can, by a stamp (of his foot), cause the earth to quake. He can sever the great Meru from the earth and hurl it to any distance. He can go round the ten points of the earth in a moment. How can a woman like me even touch such a one full of ascetic virtues, like unto a blazing fire, and having his passions under complete control? His mouth is like unto a blazing fire; the pupils of his eyes are like the Sun and the Moon; his tongue is like unto Yama himself. How shall, O chief of the celestials, a woman like me even touch him? At the thought of his prowess Yama, Soma, the great Rishis, the Saddhyas, the Viswas, Valakhilyas, are terrified! How can a woman like me gaze at him without alarm? Commanded, however, by thee, O king of the celestials, I shall somehow approach that Rishi. But, O chief of the gods, devise thou some plan whereby protected by thee, I may safely move about that Rishi. I think that when I begin to play before the Rishi, Marut (the god of wind) had better go there and rob me of my dress, and Manmatha (the god of love) had also, at thy command, better help me then. Let also Marut on that occasion bear thither fragrance from the woods to tempt the Rishi." Saying this and seeing that all she had spoken about had been duly provided, Menaka went to the retreat of the great Kausika.'"' SECTION LXXII (Sambhava Parva continued) "'"Kanwa continued, 'And Sakra, thus addressed by her, then commanded him who could approach every place (viz., the god of the wind) to be present with Menaka at the time she would be before the Rishi. And the timid and beautiful Menaka then entered the retreat and saw there Viswamitra who had burnt, by his penances, all his sins, and was engaged still in ascetic penances. And saluting the Rishi, she then began to sport before him. And just at that time Marut robbed her of her garments that were white as the Moon. And she thereupon ran, as if in great bashfulness, to catch hold of her attire, and as if she was exceedingly annoyed with Marut. And she did all this before the very eyes of Viswamitra who was endued with energy like that of fire. And Viswamitra saw her in that attitude. And beholding her divested of her robes, he saw that she was of faultless feature. And that best of Munis saw that she was exceedingly handsome, with no marks of age on her person. And beholding her beauty and accomplishments that bull amongst Rishis was possessed with lust and made a sign that he desired her companionship. And he invited her accordingly, and she also of faultless features expressed her acceptance of the invitation. And they then passed a long time there in each other's company. And sporting with each other, just as they pleased, for a long time as if it were only a single day, the Rishi begat on Menaka a daughter named Sakuntala. And Menaka (as her conception advanced) went to the banks of the river Malini coursing along a valley of the charming mountains of Himavat. And there she gave birth to that daughter. And she left the new-born infant on the bank of that river and went away. And beholding the new-born infant lying in that forest destitute of human beings but abounding with lions and tigers, a number of vultures sat around to protect it from harm. No Rakshasas or carnivorous animals took its life. Those vultures protected the daughter of Menaka. I went there to perform my ablution and beheld the infant lying in the solitude of the wilderness surrounded by vultures. Bringing her hither I have made her my daughter. Indeed, the maker of the body, the protector of life, the giver of food, are all three, fathers in their order, according to the scriptures. And because she was surrounded in the solitude of the wilderness, by Sakuntas (birds), therefore, hath she been named by me Sakuntala (bird-protected). O Brahman, learn that it is thus that Sakuntala hath become my daughter. And the faultless Sakuntala also regards me as her father.' "'"This is what my father had said unto the Rishi, having been asked by him. O king of men, it is thus that thou must know I am the daughter of Kanwa. And not knowing my real father, I regard Kanwa as my father. Thus have I told thee, O king, all that hath been heard by me regarding my birth!"'" SECTION LXXIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'King Dushmanta, hearing all this, said, "Well- spoken, O princess, this that thou hast said! Be my wife, O beautiful one! What shall I do for thee? Golden garlands, robes, ear-rings of gold, white and handsome pearls, from various countries, golden coins, finest carpets, I shall present thee this very day. Let the whole of my kingdom be thine today, O beautiful one! Come to me, O timid one, wedding me, O beautiful one, according to the Gandharva form. O thou of tapering thighs, of all forms of marriage, the Gandharva one is regarded as the first." "'Sakuntala, hearing this, said, "O king, my father hath gone away from this asylum to bring fruit. Wait but a moment; he will bestow me on thee." "'Dushmanta replied, "O beautiful and faultless one, I desire that thou shouldst be my life's companion. Know thou that I exist for thee, and my heart is in thee. One is certainly one's own friend, and one certainly may depend upon one's own self. Therefore, according to the ordinance, thou canst certainly bestow thyself. There are, in all, eight kinds of marriages. These are Brahma, Daiva, Arsha, Prajapatya, Asura, Gandharva, Rakshasa, and Paisacha, the eighth. Manu, the son of the self-create, hath spoken of the appropriateness of all these forms according to their order. Know, O faultless one, that the first four of these are fit for Brahmanas, and the first six for Kshatriyas. As regards kings, even the Rakshasa form is permissible. The Asura form is permitted to Vaisyas and Sudras. Of the first five the three are proper, the other two being improper. The Paisacha and the Asura forms should never be practised. These are the institutes of religion, and one should act according to them. The Gandharva and the Rakshasa form are consistent with the practices of Kshatriyas. Thou needst not entertain the least fear. There is not the least doubt that either according to any one of these last-mentioned forms, or according to a union of both of them, our wedding may take place. O thou of the fairest complexion, full of desire I am, thou also in a similar mood mayst become my wife according to the Gandharva form." "'Sakuntala, having listened to all this, answered, "If this be the course sanctioned by religion, if, indeed, I am my own disposer, hear, O thou foremost one of Puru's race, what my terms are. Promise truly to give me what I ask thee. The son that shall be begotten on me shall become thy heir-apparent. This, O king, is my fixed resolve. O Dushmanta, if thou grant this, then let our union take place."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The monarch, without taking time to consider at once told her, "Let it be so. I will even take thee, O thou of agreeable smiles, with me to my capital. I tell thee truly. O beautiful one, thou deservest all this." And so saying, that first of kings wedded the handsome Sakuntala of graceful gait, and knew her as a husband. And assuring her duly, he went away, telling her repeatedly, "I shall send thee, for thy escort, my troops of four classes. Indeed, it is even thus that I shall take thee to my capital, O thou of sweet smiles!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O Janamejaya, having promised so unto her, the king went away. And as he retraced his way homewards, he began to think of Kasyapa. And he asked himself, "What will the illustrious ascetic say, after he has known all?" Thinking of this, he entered his capital. "'The moment the king had left, Kanwa arrived at his abode. But Sakuntala, from a sense of shame, did not go out to receive her father. That great ascetic, however, possessed of spiritual knowledge, knew all. Indeed beholding everything with his spiritual eye, the illustrious one was pleased, and addressing her, said, "Amiable one, what hath been done by thee today in secret, without having waited for me--viz., intercourse with a man--hath not been destructive of thy virtue. Indeed, union according to the Gandharva form, of a wishful woman with a man of sensual desire, without mantras of any kind, it is said, is the best for Kshatriyas. That best of men, Dushmanta, is also high-souled and virtuous. Thou hast, O Sakuntala, accepted him for thy husband. The son that shall be born of thee shall be mighty and illustrious in this world. And he shall have sway over the sea. And the forces of that illustrious king of kings, while he goeth out against his foes shall be irresistible." "'Sakuntala then approached her fatigued father and washed his feet. And taking down the load he had with him and placing the fruits in proper order, she told him, "It behoveth thee to give thy grace to that Dushmanta whom I have accepted for my husband, as well as his ministers!" "'Kanwa replied, "O thou of the fairest complexion, for thy sake I am inclined to bless him. But receive from me, O blessed one, the boon that thou desirest."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Sakuntala, thereupon, moved by desire of benefiting Dushmanta, asked the boon that the Paurava monarchs might ever be virtuous and never deprived of their thrones.'" SECTION LXXIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After Dushmanta had left the asylum having made those promises unto Sakuntala, the latter of tapering thighs brought forth a boy of immeasurable energy. And when the child was three years old, he became in splendour like the blazing fire. And, O Janamejaya, he was possessed of beauty and magnanimity and every accomplishment. And that first of virtuous men, Kanwa, caused all the rites of religion to be performed in respect of that intelligent child thriving day by day. And the boy gifted with pearly teeth and shining locks, capable of slaying lions even then, with all auspicious signs on his palm, and broad expansive forehead, grew up in beauty and strength. And like unto a celestial child in splendour, he began to grow up rapidly. And when he was only six years of age, endued with great strength he used to seize and bind to the trees that stood around that asylum, lions and tigers and bears and buffaloes and elephants. And he rode on some animals, and pursued others in sportive mood. The dwellers at Kanwa's asylum thereupon bestowed on him a name. And they said, because he seizes and restrains an animals however strong, let him be called Sarvadamana (the subduer of all). And it was thus that the boy came to be named Sarvadamana, endued as he was with prowess, and energy and strength. And the Rishi seeing the boy and marking also his extraordinary acts, told Sakuntala that the time had come for his installation as the heir-apparent. And beholding the strength of the boy, Kanwa commanded his disciples, saying, "Bear ye without delay this Sakuntala with her son from this abode to that of her husband, blessed with every auspicious sign. Women should not live long in the houses of their paternal or maternal relations. Such residence is destructive of their reputation, their good conduct, their virtue. Therefore, delay not in bearing her hence." These disciples of the Rishi thereupon, saying "So be it," went towards the city named after an elephant (Hastinapura) with Sakuntala and her son ahead of them. And then she of fair eye-brows, taking with her that boy of celestial beauty, endued with eyes like lotus petals, left the woods where she had been first known by Dushmanta. And having approached the king, she with her boy resembling in splendour the rising sun was introduced to him. And the disciples of the Rishi having introduced her, returned to the asylum. And Sakuntala having worshipped the king according to proper form, told him, "This is thy son, O king! Let him be installed as thy heir- apparent. O king, this child, like unto a celestial, hath been begotten by thee upon me. Therefore, O best of men, fulfil now the promise thou gavest me. Call to mind, O thou of great good fortune, the agreement thou hadst made on the occasion of thy union with me in the asylum of Kanwa." "'The king, hearing these her words, and remembering everything said, "I do not remember anything. Who art thou, O wicked woman in ascetic guise? I do not remember having any connection with thee in respect of Dharma, Kama and Arthas. Go or stay or do as thou pleasest." Thus addressed by him, the fair-coloured innocent one became abashed. Grief deprived her of consciousness and she stood for a time like an wooden post. Soon, however, her eyes became red like copper and her lips began to quiver. And the glances she now and then cast upon the king seemed to burn the latter. Her rising wrath however, and the fire of her asceticism, she extinguished within herself by an extraordinary effort. Collecting her thoughts in a moment, her heart possessed with sorrow and rage, she thus addressed her lord in anger, looking at him, "Knowing everything, O monarch, how thou, like an inferior person, thus say that thou knowest it not? Thy heart is a witness to the truth or falsehood of this matter. Therefore, speak truly without degrading thyself. He who being one thing representeth himself as another thing to others, is like a thief and a robber of his own self. Of what sin is he not capable? Thou thinkest that thou alone hast knowledge of thy deed. But knowest thou not that the Ancient, Omniscient one (Narayana) liveth in thy heart? He knoweth all thy sins, and thou sinnest in His presence. He that sins thinks that none observes him. But he is observed by the gods and by Him also who is in every heart. The Sun, the Moon, the Air, the Fire, the Earth, the Sky, Water, the heart, Yama, the day, the night, both twilights, and Dharma, all witness the acts of man. Yama, the son of Surya, takes no account of the sins of him with whom Narayana the witness of all acts, is gratified. But he with whom Narayana is not gratified is tortured for his sins by Yama. Him who degradeth himself by representing his self falsely, the gods never bless. Even his own soul blesseth him not. I am a wife devoted to my husband. I have come of my own accord, it is true. But do not, on that account, treat me with disrespect. I am thy wife and, therefore, deserve to be treated respectfully. Wilt thou not treat me so, because I have come hither of my own accord? In the presence of so many, why dost thou treat me like an ordinary woman? I am not certainly crying in the wilderness. Dost thou not hear me? But if thou refuse to do what I supplicate thee for, O Dushmanta, thy head this moment shall burst into a hundred pieces! The husband entering the womb of the wife cometh out himself in the form of the son. Therefore is the wife called by those cognisant of the Vedas as Jaya (she of whom one is born). And the son that is so born unto persons cognisant of the Vedic Mantras rescueth the spirits of deceased ancestors. And because the son rescueth ancestors from the hell called Put, therefore, hath he been called by the Self-create himself as Puttra (the rescuer from Put). By a son one conquereth the three worlds. By a son's son, one enjoyeth eternity. And by a grandson's son great-grand-fathers enjoy everlasting happiness. She is a true wife who is skilful in household affairs. She is a true wife who hath borne a son. She is a true wife whose heart is devoted to her lord. She is a true wife who knoweth none but her lord. The wife is a man's half. The wife is the first of friends. The wife is the root of religion, profit, and desire. The wife is the root of salvation. They that have wives can perform religious acts. They that have wives can lead domestic lives. They that have wives have the means to be cheerful. They that have wives can achieve good fortune. Sweet-speeched wives are friends on occasions of joy. They are as fathers on occasions of religious acts. They are mothers in sickness and woe. Even in the deep woods to a traveller a wife is his refreshment and solace. He that hath a wife is trusted by all. A wife, therefore, is one's most valuable possession. Even when the husband leaving this world goeth into the region of Yama, it is the devoted wife that accompanies him thither. A wife going before waits for the husband. But if the husband goeth before, the chaste wife followeth close. For these reasons, O king, doth marriage exist. The husband enjoyeth the companionship of the wife both in this and in the other worlds. It hath been said by learned persons that one is himself born as one's son. Therefore, a man whose wife hath borne a son should look upon her as his mother. Beholding the face of the son one hath begotten upon his wife, like his own face in a mirror, one feeleth as happy as a virtuous man, on attaining to heaven. Men scorched by mental grief, or suffering under bodily pain, feel as much refreshed in the companionship of their wives as a perspiring person in a cool bath. No man, even in anger, should ever do anything that is disagreeable to his wife, seeing that happiness, joy, and virtue,--everything dependeth on the wife. A wife is the sacred field in which the husband is born himself. Even Rishis cannot create creatures without women. What happiness is greater than what the father feeleth when the son running towards him, even though his body be covered with dust, claspeth his limbs? Why then dost thou treat with indifference such a son, who hath approached thee himself and who casteth wistful glances towards thee for climbing thy knees? Even ants support their own eggs without destroying them; then why shouldst not thou, a virtuous man that thou art, support thy own child? The touch of soft sandal paste, of women, of (cool) water is not so agreeable as the touch of one's own infant son locked in one's embrace. As a Brahmana is the foremost of all bipeds, a cow, the foremost of all quadrupeds, a protector, the foremost of all superiors, so is the son the foremost of all objects, agreeable to the touch. Let, therefore, this handsome child touch thee in embrace. There is nothing in the world more agreeable to the touch than the embrace of one's son. O chastiser of foes, I have brought forth this child, O monarch, capable of dispelling all thy sorrows after bearing him in my womb for full three years. O monarch of Puru's race, 'He shall perform a hundred horse-sacrifices'--these were the words uttered from the sky when I was in the lying-in room. Indeed, men going into places remote from their homes take up there others' children on their laps and smelling their heads feel great happiness. Thou knowest that Brahmanas repeat these Vedic mantras on the occasion of the consecrating rites of infancy.--Thou art born, O son, of my body! Thou art sprung from my heart. Thou art myself in the form of a son. Live thou to a hundred years! My life dependeth on thee, and the continuation of my race also, on thee. Therefore, O son, live thou in great happiness to a hundred years. He hath sprung from thy body, this second being from thee! Behold thyself in thy son, as thou beholdest thy image in the clear lake. As the sacrificial fire is kindled from the domestic one, so hath this one sprung from thee. Though one, thou hast divided thyself. In course of hunting while engaged in pursuit of the deer, I was approached by thee, O king, I who was then a virgin in the asylum of my father. Urvasi, Purvachitti, Sahajanya, Menaka, Viswachi and Ghritachi, these are the six foremost of Apsaras. Amongst them again, Menaka, born of Brahman, is the first. Descending from heaven on Earth, after intercourse with Viswamitra, she gave birth to me. That celebrated Apsara, Menaka, brought me forth in a valley of Himavat. Bereft of all affection, she went away, cast me there as if I were the child of somebody else. What sinful act did I do, of old, in some other life that I was in infancy cast away by my parents and at present am cast away by thee! Put away by thee, I am ready to return to the refuge of my father. But it behoveth thee not to cast off this child who is thy own." "'Hearing all this, Dushmanta said, "O Sakuntala, I do not know having begot upon thee this son. Women generally speak untruths. Who shall believe in thy words? Destitute of all affection, the lewd Menaka is thy mother, and she cast thee off on the surface of the Himavat as one throws away, after the worship is over, the flowery offering made to his gods. Thy father too of the Kshatriya race, the lustful Viswamitra, who was tempted to become a Brahmana, is destitute of all affection. However, Menaka is the first of Apsaras, and thy father also is the first of Rishis. Being their daughter, why dost thou speak like a lewd woman? Thy words deserve no credit. Art thou not ashamed to speak them, especially before me? Go hence, O wicked woman in ascetic guise. Where is that foremost of great Rishis, where also is that Apsara Menaka? And why art thou, low as thou art, in the guise of an ascetic? Thy child too is grown up. Thou sayest he is a boy, but he is very strong. How hath he soon grown like a Sala sprout? Thy birth is low. Thou speakest like a lewd woman. Lustfully hast thou been begotten by Menaka. O woman of ascetic guise, all that thou sayest is quite unknown to me. I don't know thee. Go withersoever thou choosest." "'Sakuntala replied, "Thou seest, O king, the fault of others, even though they be as small as a mustard seed. But seeing, thou noticest not thy own faults even though they be as large as the Vilwa fruit. Menaka is one of the celestials. Indeed, Menaka is reckoned as the first of celestials. My birth, therefore, O Dushmanta, is far higher than thine. Thou walkest upon the Earth, O king, but I roam in the skies! Behold, the difference between ourselves is as that between (the mountain) Meru and a mustard seed! Behold my power, O king! I can repair to the abodes of Indra, Kuvera, Yama, and Varuna! The saying is true which I shall refer to before thee, O sinless one! I refer to it for example's sake and not from evil motives. Therefore, it behoveth thee to pardon me after thou hast heard it. An ugly person considereth himself handsomer than others until he sees his own face in the mirror. But when he sees his own ugly face in the mirror, it is then that he perceiveth the difference between himself and others. He that is really handsome never taunts anybody. And he that always talketh evil becometh a reviler. And as the swine always look for dirt and filth even when in the midst of a flower-garden, so the wicked always choose the evil out of both evil and good that others speak. Those, however, that are wise, on hearing the speeches of others that are intermixed with both good and evil, accept only what is good, like geese that always extract the milk only, though it be mixed with water. As the honest are always pained at speaking ill of others, so do the wicked always rejoice in doing the same thing. As the honest always feel pleasure in showing regard for the old, so do the wicked always take delight in aspersing the good. The honest are happy in not seeking for faults. The wicked are happy in seeking for them. The wicked ever speak ill of the honest. But the latter never injure the former, even if injured by them. What can be more ridiculous in the world than that those that are themselves wicked should represent the really honest as wicked? When even atheists are annoyed with those that have fallen off from truth and virtue and who are really like angry snakes of virulent poison, what shall I say of myself who am nurtured in faith? He that having begotten a son who is his own image, regardeth him not, never attaineth to the worlds he coveteth, and verily the gods destroy his good fortune and possessions. The Pitris have said that the son continueth the race and the line and is, therefore, the best of all religious acts. Therefore, none should abandon a son. Manu hath said that there are five kinds of sons: those begotten by one's self upon his own wife, those obtained (as gift) from others, those purchased for a consideration, those reared with affection and those begotten upon other women than upon wedded wives. Sons support the religion and achievements of men, enhance their joys, and rescue deceased ancestors from hell. It behoveth thee not, therefore, O tiger among kings, to abandon a son who is such. Therefore, O lord of Earth, cherish thy own self, truth, and virtue by cherishing thy son. O lion among monarchs, it behoveth thee not to support this deceitfulness. The dedication of a tank is more meritorious than that of a hundred wells. A sacrifice again is more meritorious than the dedication of a tank. A son is more meritorious than a sacrifice. Truth is more meritorious than a hundred sons. A hundred horse-sacrifices had once been weighed against Truth, and Truth was found heavier than a hundred horse-sacrifices. O king, Truth, I ween, may be equal to the study of the entire Vedas and ablutions in all holy places. There is no virtue equal to Truth: there is nothing superior to Truth. O king, Truth is God himself; Truth is the highest vow. Therefore, violate not thy pledge, O monarch! Let Truth and thee be even united. If thou placest no credit in my words, I shall of my own accord go hence. Indeed, thy companionship should be avoided. But thou, O Dushmanta, that when thou art gone, this son of mine shall rule the whole Earth surrounded by the four seas and adorned with the king of the mountains."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Sakuntala having spoken to the monarch in this wise, left his presence. But as soon as she had left, a voice from the skies, emanating from no visible shape, thus spoke unto Dushmanta as he was sitting surrounded by his occasional and household priests, his preceptors, and ministers. And the voice said, "The mother is but the sheath of flesh; the son sprung from the father is the father himself. Therefore, O Dushmanta, cherish thy son, and insult not Sakuntala. O best of men, the son, who is but a form of one's own seed, rescueth (ancestors) from the region of Yama. Thou art the progenitor of this boy. Sakuntala hath spoken the truth. The husband, dividing his body in twain, is born of his wife in the form of son. Therefore, O Dushmanta, cherish, O monarch, thy son born of Sakuntala. To live by forsaking one's living son is a great misfortune. Therefore, O thou of Puru's race, cherish thy high- souled son born of Sakuntala--And because this child is to be cherished by thee even at our word, therefore shall this thy son be known by the name of Bharata (the cherished)." Hearing these words uttered by the dwellers in heaven, the monarch of Puru's race became overjoyed and spoke as follows unto his priests and ministers, "Hear ye these words uttered by the celestial messenger? I myself know this one to be my son. If I had taken him as my son on the strength of Sakuntala's words alone, my people would have been suspicious and my son also would not have been regarded as pure." "Vaisampayana continued, 'The monarch, then, O thou of Bharata's race, seeing the purity of his son established by the celestial messenger, became exceedingly glad. And he took unto him that son with joy. And the king with a joyous heart then performed all those rites upon his son that a father should perform. And the king smelt his child's head and hugged him with affection. And the Brahmanas began to utter blessings upon him and the bards began to applaud him. And the monarch then experienced the great delight that one feeleth at the touch of one's son. And Dushmanta also received that wife of his with affection. And he told her these words, pacifying her affectionately, "O goddess, my union with thee took place privately. Therefore, I was thinking of how best to establish thy purity. My people might think that we were only lustfully united and not as husband and wife, and therefore, this son that I would have installed as my heir apparent would only have been regarded as one of impure birth. And dearest, every hard word thou hast uttered in thy anger, have I, O large-eyed one, forgiven thee. Thou art my dearest!" And the royal sage Dushmanta, having spoken thus unto his dear wife, O Bharata, received her with offerings of perfume, food, and drink. And king Dushmanta, then, bestowed the name of Bharata upon his child, and formally installed him as the heir apparent. And the famous and bright wheels of Bharata's car, invincible and like unto the wheels of the cars owned by the gods, traversed every region, filling the whole Earth with their rattle. And the son of Dushmanta reduced to subjection all kings of the Earth. And he ruled virtuously and earned great fame. And that monarch of great prowess was known by the titles of Chakravarti and Sarvabhauma. And he performed many sacrifices like Sakra, the lord of the Maruts. And Kanwa was the chief priest at those sacrifices, in which the offerings to Brahmanas were great. And the blessed monarch performed both the cow and the horse- sacrifices. And Bharata gave unto Kanwa a thousand gold coins as the sacerdotal fee. It is that Bharata from whom have emanated so many mighty achievements. It is from him that the great race called after him in his race are called after him. And in the Bharata race there have been born many godlike monarchs gifted with great energy, and like unto Brahman himself. Their number cannot be counted. But, O thou of Bharata's race, I shall name the principal ones that were blessed with great good fortune, like unto the gods, and devoted to truth and honesty.'" SECTION LXXV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hear now, as I recite the recorded genealogy, that is sacred and subservient to religion, profit and pleasure, of these royal sages--Daksha, the lord of creation, Manu, the son of Surya, Bharata, Ruru, Puru, and Ajamidha. I shall also recite to thee, O sinless one, the genealogies of the Yadavas and of the Kurus and of the king of the Bharata line. These genealogies are sacred and their recitation is a great act of propitiation. That recitation conferreth wealth, fame and long life. And, O sinless one, all these I have named shone in their splendour and were equal unto the great Rishis in energy. "'Prachetas had ten sons who were all devoted to asceticism and possessed of every virtue. They burnt, of old, by the fire emanating from their mouths, several plants of poisonous and innumerable large trees that had covered the Earth and became a source of great discomfort to man. After these ten, was born another named Daksha. It is from Daksha that all creatures have sprung. Therefore is he, O tiger among men, called the Grandfather. Born of Prachetas the Muni Daksha, uniting himself with Virini, begat a thousand sons of rigid vows, all like himself. And Narada taught these thousand sons of Daksha the excellent philosophy of Sankhya as a means of salvation. And, O Janamejaya, the lord of creation, Daksha, then, from the desire of making creatures, begat fifty daughters. And he made all of them his appointed daughters (so that their sons might be his sons also for the performance of all religious acts). And he bestowed ten of his daughters on Dharma, and thirteen on Kasyapa. And he gave twenty- seven to Chandra, who are all engaged in indicating time. And Kasyapa, the son of Marichi, begat on the eldest of his thirteen wives, the Adityas, the celestials endued with great energy and having Indra as their head and also Vivaswat (the Sun). And of Vivaswat was born the lord Yama. And Martanda (Vivaswat) also begat another son after Yama, gifted with great intelligence and named Manu. And Manu was endued with great wisdom and devoted to virtue. And he became the progenitor of a line. And in Manu's race have been born all human beings, who have, therefore, been called Manavas. And it is of Manu that all men including Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, and others have been descended, and are, therefore, all called Manavas. Subsequently, O monarch, the Brahmanas became united with the Kshatriyas. And those sons of Manu that were Brahmanas devoted themselves to the study of the Vedas. And Manu begat ten other children named Vena, Dhrishnu, Narishyan, Nabhaga, Ikshvaku, Karusha, Saryati, the eighth, a daughter named Ila, Prishadhru the ninth, and Nabhagarishta, the tenth. They all betook themselves to the practices of Kshatriyas. Besides these, Manu had fifty other sons on Earth. But we heard that they all perished, quarrelling with one another. The learned Pururavas was born of Ila. It hath been heard by us that Ila was both his mother and father. And the great Pururavas had sway over thirteen islands of the sea. And, though a human being, he was always surrounded by companions that were superhuman. And Pururavas intoxicated with power quarrelled with the Brahmanas and little caring for their anger robbed them of their wealth. Beholding all this Sanatkumara came from the region of Brahman and gave him good counsel, which was, however, rejected by Pururavas. Then the wrath of the great Rishis was excited, and the avaricious monarch, who intoxicated with power, had lost his reason, was immediately destroyed by their curse. "'It was Pururavas who first brought from the region of the Gandharvas the three kinds of fire (for sacrificial purpose). And he brought thence, the Apsara Urvasi also. And the son of Ila begat upon Urvasi six sons who were called Ayus, Dhimat, Amavasu and Dhridhayus, and Vanayus, and Satayus. And it is said that Ayus begat four sons named Nahusha, Vriddhasarman, Rajingaya, and Anenas, on the daughter of Swarbhanu. And, O monarch, Nahusha, of all the sons of Ayus, being gifted with great intelligence and prowess ruled his extensive kingdom virtuously. And king Nahusha supported evenly the Pitris, the celestials, the Rishis, the Brahmanas, the Gandharvas, the Nagas, the Rakshasas, the Kshatriyas, and the Vaisyas. And he suppressed all robber-gangs with a mighty hand. But he made the Rishis pay tribute and carry him on their backs like bests of burden. And, conquering the very gods by the beauty of his person, his asceticism, prowess, and energy, he ruled as if he were Indra himself. And Nahusha begat six sons, all of sweet speech, named Yati, Yayati, Sanyati, Ayati, and Dhruva. Yati betaking himself to asceticism became a Muni like unto Brahman himself. Yayati became a monarch of great prowess and virtue. He ruled the whole Earth, performed numerous sacrifices, worshipped the Pitris with great reverence, and always respected the gods. And he brought the whole world under his sway and was never vanquished by any foe. And the sons of Yayati were all great bowmen and resplendent with every virtue. And, O king, they were begotten upon (his two wives) Devayani and Sarmishtha. And of Devayani were born Yadu and Turvasu, and of Sarmishtha were born Drahyu, Anu, and Puru. And, O king, having virtuously ruled his subjects for a long time, Yayati was attacked with a hideous decrepitude destroying his personal beauty. And attacked by decrepitude, the monarch then spoke, O Bharata, unto his sons Yadu and Puru and Turvasu and Drahyu and Anu these words, "Ye dear sons, I wish to be a young man and to gratify my appetites in the company of young women. Do you help me therein." To him his eldest son born of Devayani then said, "What needest thou, O king? Dost thou want to have your youth?" Yayati then told him, "Accept thou my decrepitude, O son! With thy youth I would enjoy myself. During the time of a great sacrifice I have been cursed by the Muni Usanas (Sukra). O son, I would enjoy myself with your youth. Take any of you this my decrepitude and with my body rule ye my kingdom. I would enjoy myself with a renovated body. Therefore, ye my sons, take ye my decrepitude." But none of his sons accepted his decrepitude. Then his youngest son Puru said unto him, "O king, enjoy thyself thou once again with a renovated body and returned youth! I shall take thy decrepitude and at thy command rule thy kingdom." Thus addressed, the royal sage, by virtue of his ascetic power then transferred his own decrepitude unto that high-souled son of his and with the youth of Puru became a youth; while with the monarch's age Puru ruled his kingdom. "'Then, after a thousand years had passed away, Yayati, that tiger among kings, remained as strong and powerful as a tiger. And he enjoyed for a long time the companionship of his two wives. And in the gardens of Chitraratha (the king of Gandharvas), the king also enjoyed the company of the Apsara Viswachi. But even after all this, the great king found his appetites unsatiated. The king, then recollected the following truths contained in the Puranas, "Truly, one's appetites are never satiated by enjoyment. On the other hand, like sacrificial butter poured into the fire, they flame up with indulgence. Even if one enjoyed the whole Earth with its wealth, diamonds and gold, animals and women, one may not yet be satiated. It is only when man doth not commit any sin in respect of any living thing, in thought, deed, or speech, it is then that he attaineth to purity as that of Brahman. When one feareth nothing, when one is not feared by anything, when one wisheth for nothing, when one injureth nothing, it is then that one attaineth to the purity of Brahman." The wise monarch seeing this and satisfied that one's appetites are never satiated, set his mind at rest by meditation, and took back from his son his own decrepitude. And giving him back his youth, though his own appetites were unsatiated, and installing him on the throne, he spoke unto Puru thus, "Thou art my true heir, thou art my true son by whom my race is to be continued. In the world shall my race be known by thy name."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then that tiger among kings, having installed his son Puru on the throne, went away to the mount of Bhrigu for devoting himself to asceticism. And, having acquired great ascetic merit, after long years, he succumbed to the inevitable influence of Time. He left his human body by observing the vow of fasting, and ascended to heaven with his wives.'" SECTION LXXVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O thou of the wealth of asceticism, tell me how our ancestor Yayati, who is the tenth from Prajapati, obtained for a wife the unobtainable daughter of Sukra. I desire to hear of it in detail. Tell me also, one after another, of those monarchs separately who were the founders of dynasties.' "Vaisampayana said, 'The monarch Yayati was in splendour like unto Indra himself. I will tell thee, in reply to thy question, O Janamejaya, how both Sukra and Vrishaparvan bestowed upon him, with due rites, their daughters, and how his union took place with Devayani in special. "'Between the celestials and the Asuras, there happened, of yore, frequent encounters for the sovereignty of the three worlds with everything in them. The gods, then, from desire of victory, installed the son of Angiras (Vrihaspati) as their priest to conduct their sacrifices; while their opponents installed the learned Usanas as their priest for the same purpose. And between those two Brahmanas there are always much boastful rivalry. Those Danavas assembled for encounter that were slain by the gods were all revived by the seer Sukra by the power of his knowledge. And then starting again, into life,--these fought with the gods. The Asuras also slew on the field of battle many of the celestials. But the open-minded Vrihaspati could not revive them, because he knew not the science called Sanjivani (re-vivification) which Kavya endued with great energy knew so well. And the gods were, therefore, in great sorrow. And the gods, in great anxiety of heart and entertaining a fear of the learned Usanas, then went to Kacha, the eldest son of Vrihaspati, and spoke unto him, saying, "We pay court to thee, be kind to us and do us a service that we regard as very great. That knowledge which resides in Sukra, that Brahmana of immeasurable prowess, make thy own as soon as thou canst. Thou shalt find the Brahmana in the court of Vrishaparvan. He always protects the Danavas but never us, their opponents. Thou art his junior in age, and, therefore, capable of adoring him with reverence. Thou canst also adore Devayani, the favourite daughter of that high-souled Brahmana. Indeed, thou alone art capable of propitiating them both by worship. There is none else that can do so. By gratifying Devayani with thy conduct, liberality, sweetness, and general behaviour, thou canst certainly obtain that knowledge." The son of Vrihaspati, thus solicited by the gods, said "So be it," and went to where Vrishaparvan was. Kacha, thus sent by the gods, soon went to the capital of the chief of the Asuras, and beheld Sukra there. And beholding him, he thus spoke unto him, "Accept me as thy disciple. I am the grandson of the Rishi Angiras and son of Vrihaspati. By name I am known as Kacha. Thyself becoming my preceptor, I shall practise the Brahmacharya mode of life for a thousand years. Command me, then, O Brahmana!" "'Sukra (hearing this) said, 'Welcome art thou, O Kacha! I accept thy speech. I will treat thee with regard; for by so doing, it is Vrihaspati who will be regarded.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Kacha commanded by Kavya or Usanas himself, called also Sukra, then said, "So be it," and took the vow he had spoken of. And, O Bharata, accepting the vow of which he had spoken, at the proper time, Kacha began to conciliate regardfully both his preceptor and (his daughter) Devayani. Indeed, he began to conciliate both. And as he was young, by singing and dancing and playing on different kinds of instruments, he soon gratified Devayani who was herself in her youth. And, O Bharata, with his whole heart set upon it, he soon gratified the maiden Devayani who was then a young lady, by presents of flowers and fruits and services rendered with alacrity. And Devayani also with her songs and sweetness of manners used, while they were alone, to attend upon that youth carrying out his vow. And when five hundred years had thus passed of Kacha's vow, the Danavas came to learn his intention. And having no compunctions about slaying a Brahmana, they became very angry with him. And one day they saw Kacha in a solitary part of the woods engaged in tending (his preceptor's) kine. They then slew Kacha from their hatred of Vrihaspati and also from their desire of protecting the knowledge of reviving the dead from being conveyed by him. And having slain him, they hacked his body into pieces and gave them to be devoured by jackals and wolves. And (when twilight came) the kine returned to the fold without him who tended them. And Devayani, seeing the kine returned from the woods without Kacha, spoke, O Bharata, unto her father thus: "'"Thy evening-fire hath been kindled. The Sun also hath set, O father! The kine have returned without him who tendeth them. Kacha is, indeed, not to be seen. It is plain that Kacha hath been lost, or is dead. Truly do I say, O father, that without him I will not live." "'Sukra hearing this said, "I will revive him by saying, 'Let this one come.'" Then having recourse to the science of reviving the dead, Sukra summoned Kacha. And summoned by his preceptor, Kacha appeared before him in the gladness of heart tearing by virtue of his preceptor's science the bodies of the wolves (that had devoured him). And asked about the cause of his delay, he thus spoke unto Bhargava's daughter. Indeed, asked by that Brahman's daughter, he told her, "I was dead. O thou of pure manners, burdened with sacrificial fuel, Kusa grass, and logs of wood, I was coming towards our abode. I sat under a banian tree. The kine also, having been brought together, were staying under the shade of that same banian tree. The Asuras, beholding me, asked 'Who art thou?' They heard me answer, 'I am the son of Vrihaspati.' As soon as I said this, the Danavas slew me, and hacking my body into pieces gave my remains to jackals and wolves. And they then went home in the gladness of heart. O amiable one, summoned by the high-souled Bhargava, I after all come before thee fully revived." "'On another occasion, asked by Devayani, the Brahmana Kacha went into the woods. And as he was roving about for gathering flowers, the Danavas beheld him. They again slew him, and pounding him into a paste they mixed it with the water of the ocean. Finding him long still (in coming), the maiden again represented the matter unto her father. And summoned again by the Brahmana with the aid of his science, Kacha appearing before his preceptor and his daughter told everything as it had happened. Then slaying him for the third time and burning him and reducing him to ashes, the Asuras gave those ashes to the preceptor himself, mixing them with his wine. And Devayani again spoke unto her father, saying, "O father, Kacha was sent to gather flowers. But he is not to be seen. It is plain he hath been lost, or has died. I tell thee truly, I would not live without him." "'Sukra hearing this said, "O daughter, the son of Vrihaspati hath gone to the region of the dead. Though revived by my science, he is thus slain frequently. What, indeed, am I to do? O Devayani, do not grieve, do not cry. One like thee should not grieve for one that is mortal. Thou art indeed, O daughter, in consequence of my prowess, worshipped thrice a day during the ordained hours of prayer, by Brahmanas, the gods with Indra, the Vasus, the Aswins, the Asuras, in fact, by the whole universe. It is impossible to keep him alive, for revived by me he is often killed." To all this Devayani replied, "Why shall I, O father, not grieve for him whose grandfather is old Angiras himself, whose father is Vrihaspati who is an ocean of ascetic merit, who is the grandson of a Rishi and the son also of a Rishi? He himself too was a Brahmacharin and an ascetic; always wakeful and skilled in everything. I will starve and follow the way Kacha has gone. The handsome Kacha is, O father, dear unto me."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The great Rishi Kavya, then, afflicted by what Devayani said, cried in anger, "Certainly, the Asuras seek to injure me, for they slay my disciple that stayeth with me. These followers of Rudra desire to divest me of my character as a Brahmana by making me participate in their crime. Truly, this crime hath a terrible end. The crime of slaying a Brahmana would even burn Indra himself." Having said this, the Brahmana Sukra, urged by Devayani, began to summon Kacha who had entered the jaws of Death. But Kacha, summoned with the aid of science, and afraid of the consequence to his preceptor, feebly replied from within the stomach of his preceptor, saying, "Be graceful unto me, O lord! I am Kacha that worshippeth thee. Behave unto me as to thy own dearly-loved son."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Sukra then said, "By what path, O Brahmana, hast thou entered my stomach, where thou stayest now? Leaving the Asuras this very moment, I shall go over to the gods." Kacha replied, "By thy grace, memory hath not failed me. Indeed, I do recollect everything as it hath happened. My ascetic virtues have not been destroyed. It is, therefore, that I am able to bear this almost insufferable pain. O Kavya, slain by the Asuras and burnt and reduced to powder, I have been given to thee with thy wine. When thou art present, O Brahmana, the art of the Asuras will never be able to vanquish, the science of the Brahmana." "'Hearing this, Sukra said, "O daughter, what good can I do to thee? It is with my death that Kacha can get his life back. O Devayani, Kacha is even within me. There is no other way of his coming out except by ripping open my stomach." Devayani replied, "Both evils shall, like fire, burn me! The death of Kacha and thy own death are to me the same! The death of Kacha would deprive me of life. If thou also diest, I shall not be able to bear my life." Then Sukra said, "O son of Vrihaspati, thou art, indeed, one already crowned with success, because Devayani regards thee so well. Accept the science that I will today impart to thee, if, indeed, thou be not Indra in the form of Kacha. None can come out of my stomach with life. A Brahmana, however, must not be slain, therefore, accept thou the science I impart to thee. Start thou into life as my son. And possessed of the knowledge received from me, and revived by me, take care that, on coming out of my body, thou dost act gracefully."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Receiving the science imparted to him by his preceptor the handsome Kacha, ripped open his stomach, came out like the moon at evening on the fifteenth day of the bright fort-night. And beholding the remains of his preceptor lying like a heap of penances, Kacha revived him, aided by the science he had learned. Worshipping him with regard, Kacha said unto his preceptor, "Him who poureth the nectar of knowledge into one's ears, even as thou hast done into those of myself who was void of knowledge, him do I regard both as my father and mother. And remembering the immense service done by him, who is there so ungrateful as to injure him? They that, having acquired knowledge, injure their preceptor who is always an object of worship, who is the giver of knowledge, who is the most precious of all precious objects on Earth, come to be hated on Earth and finally go to the regions of the sinful."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The learned Sukra, having been deceived while under the influence of wine, and remembering the total loss of consciousness that is one of the terrible consequences of drink, and beholding too before him the handsome Kacha whom he had, in a state of unconsciousness, drunk with his wine, then thought of effecting a reform in the manners of Brahmanas. The high-souled Usanas rising up from the ground in anger, then spoke as follows: "The wretched Brahmana who from this day, unable to resist the temptation, will drink wine shall be regarded as having lost his virtue, shall be reckoned to have committed the sin of slaying a Brahmana, shall be hated both in this and the other worlds. I set this limit to the conduct and dignity of Brahmanas everywhere. Let the honest, let Brahmanas, let those with regard for their superiors, let the gods, let the three worlds, listen!" Having said these words that high-souled one, that ascetic of ascetics, then summoning the Danavas who had been deprived by fate of the good sense, told them these words, "Ye foolish Danavas, know ye that Kacha hath obtained his wishes. He will henceforth dwell with me. Having obtained the valuable knowledge of reviving the dead, that Brahmana hath, indeed, become in prowess even as Brahman himself!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Bhargava having said so much cut short his speech. The Danavas were surprised and went away to their homes. Kacha, too, having stayed with his preceptor for a full thousand years, then prepared to return to the abode of the celestials, after having obtained his preceptor's permission.'" SECTION LXXVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After the expiry of the period of his vow, Kacha, having obtained his preceptor's leave, was about to return to the abode of the celestials, when Devayani, addressing him, said, "O grandson of the Rishi Angiras, in conduct and birth, in learning, asceticism and humility, thou shinest most brightly. As the celebrated Rishi Angiras is honoured and regarded by my father, so is thy father regarded and worshipped by me. O thou of ascetic wealth, knowing this, listen to what I say. Recollect my conduct towards thee during the period of thy vow (Brahmacharya). Thy vow hath now been over. It behoveth thee to fix thy affections on me. O accept my hand duly with ordained mantras." "'Kacha replied, "Thou art to me an object of regard and worship even as thy father! O thou of faultless features, thou art, indeed, even an object of greater reverence! Thou art dearer than life to the high-souled Bhargava, O amiable one! As the daughter of my preceptor, thou art ever worthy of my worship! As my preceptor Sukra, thy father, is ever deserving of my regards, so art thou, O Devayani! Therefore, it behoveth thee not to say so." Hearing this, Devayani replied, "Thou, too, art the son of my father's preceptor's son. Therefore, O best of Brahmanas, thou art deserving of my regards and worship. O Kacha, when thou wert slain so many times by the Asuras, recollect today the affection I showed for thee. Remembering my friendship and affection for thee, and, indeed, my devoted regard also, O virtuous one, it behoveth thee not to abandon me without any fault. I am truly devoted to thee." "'Hearing all this, Kacha said, "O thou of virtuous vows, do not urge me into such a sinful course. O thou of fair eye-brows, be gracious unto me. Beautiful one, thou art to me an object of greater regard than my preceptor. Full of virtuous resolves, O large-eyed one, of face as handsome as the moon, the place where thou hadst resided, viz., the body of Kavya, hath also been my abode. Thou art truly my sister. Amiable one, happily have we passed the days that we have been together. There is perfect good understanding between us. I ask thy leave to return to my abode. Therefore, bless me so that my journey may be safe. I must be remembered by thee, when thou recallest me in connection with topics of conversation, as one that hath not transgressed virtue. Always attend upon my preceptor with readiness and singleness of heart." To all this, Devaniya answered, "Solicited by me, if, indeed, thou truly refusest to make me thy wife, then, O Kacha, this thy knowledge shall not bear fruit." "'Hearing this, Kacha said, "I have refused thy request only because thou art the daughter of my preceptor, and not because thou hast any fault. Nor hath my preceptor in this respect issued any command. Curse me if it please thee. I have told thee what the behaviour should be of a Rishi. I do not deserve thy curse, O Devayani. But yet thou hast cursed me! Thou hast acted under the influence of passion and not from a sense of duty. Therefore, thy desire will not be fulfilled. No Rishi's son shall ever accept thy hand in marriage. Thou hast said that my knowledge shall not bear fruit. Let it be so. But in respect of him it shall bear fruit to whom I may impart it."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'That first of Brahmanas, Kacha, having said so unto Devayani speedily wended his way unto the abode of the chief of the celestials. Beholding him arrived, the celestials with Indra ahead, having first worshipped him, spoke unto him as follows, "Thou hast indeed, performed an act of great benefit for us. Wonderful hath been thy achievement! Thy fame shall never die! Thou shall be a sharer with us in sacrificial offerings."'" SECTION LXXVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The dwellers in heaven became exceedingly glad in welcoming Kacha who had mastered the wonderful science. And, O bull of Bharata's race, the celestials then learnt that science from Kacha and considered their object already achieved. And assembling together, they spoke unto him of a hundred sacrifices, saying, "The time hath come for showing prowess. Slay thy foes, O Purandara!" And thus addressed, Maghavat, then accompanied by the celestials, set out, saying, "So be it." But on his way he saw a number of damsels. These maidens were sporting in a lake in the gardens of the Gandharva Chitraratha. Changing himself into wind, he soon mixed up the garments of those maidens which they had laid on the bank. A little while after, the maidens, getting up from the water, approached their garments that had, indeed, got mixed up with one another. And it so happened that from the intermingled heap, the garments of Devayani were appropriated by Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan, from ignorance that it was not hers. And, O king, thereupon, between them, Devayani and Sarmishtha, then ensued a dispute. And Devayani said, "O daughter of the Asura (chief), why dost thou take my attire, being, as thou art, my disciple? As thou art destitute of good behaviour, nothing good can happen to thee!" Sarmishtha, however, quickly replied, "Thy father occupying a lower seat, always adoreth with downcast looks, like a hired chanter of praises, my father, whether he sitteth at his ease or reclineth at full length! Thou art the daughter of one that chanteth the praises of others, of one that accepteth alms. I am the daughter of one who is adored, of one who bestoweth alms instead of ever accepting them! Beggar-woman as thou art, thou art free to strike thy breast, to use ill words, to vow enmity to me, to give way to thy wrath. Acceptress of alms, thou weepest tears of anger in vain! If so minded, I can harm thee, but thou canst not. Thou desirest to quarrel. But know thou that I do not reckon thee as my equal!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words, Devayani became exceedingly angry and began to pull at her clothes. Sarmishtha thereupon threw her into a well and went home. Indeed, the wicked Sarmishtha believing that Devayani was dead, bent her steps home-wards in a wrathful mood. "'After Sarmishtha had left, Yayati the son of Nahusha soon came to that spot. The king had been out a-hunting. The couple of horses harnessed to his car and the other single horse with him were all fatigued. And the king himself was thirsty. And the son of Nahusha saw a well that was by. And he saw that it was dry. But in looking down into it, he saw a maiden who in splendour was like a blazing fire. And beholding her within it, the blessed king addressed that girl of the complexion of the celestials, soothing her with sweet words. And he said, "Who art thou, O fair one, of nails bright as burnished copper, and with ear-rings decked with celestial gems? Thou seemest to be greatly perturbed. Why dost thou weep in affliction? How, indeed, hast thou fallen into this well covered with creepers and long grass? And, O slender-waisted girl, answer me truly whose daughter thou art." "'Devayani then replied, "I am the daughter of Sukra who brings back into life the Asuras slain by the gods. He doth not know what hath befallen me. This is my right hand, O king, with nails bright as burnished copper. Thou art well-born; I ask thee, to take and raise me up! I know thou art of good behaviour, of great prowess, and of wide fame! It behoveth thee, therefore, to raise me from this well."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'King Yayati, learning that she was a Brahmana's daughter, raised her from that well by catching hold of her right hand. And the monarch promptly raising her from the pit and squinting to her tapering thighs, sweetly and courteously returned to his capital. "'When the son of Nahusha had gone away, Devayani of faultless features, afflicted with grief, then spoke unto her maid, Ghurnika by name, who met her then. And she said, "O Ghurnika, go thou quickly and speak to my father without loss of time of everything as it hath happened. I shall not now enter the city of Vrishaparvan."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Ghurnika, thus commanded, repaired quickly to the mansion, of the Asura chief, where she saw Kavya and spoke unto him with her perception dimmed by anger. And she said, "I tell thee, O great Brahmana, that Devayani hath been ill-used, O fortunate one, in the forest by Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan." And Kavya, hearing that his daughter had been ill-used by Sarmishtha speedily went out with a heavy heart, seeking her in the woods. And when he found her in the woods, he clasped her with affection and spoke unto her with voice choked with grief, "O daughter, the weal or woe that befalleth people is always due to their own faults. Thou hast therefore some fault, I ween, which hath been expiated thus." Hearing this Devayani replied, "Be it a penalty or not, listen to me with attention. O, hear that all Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan, hath said unto me. Really hath she said that thou art only the hired chanter of the praises of the Asura king! Even thus hath she-- that Sarmishtha, Vrishaparvan's daughter,--spoken to me, with reddened eyes, these piercing and cruel words, 'Thou art the daughter of one that ever chanteth for hire the praises of others, of one that asketh for charities, of one that accepteth alms; whereas I am the daughter of one that receiveth adorations, of one that giveth, of one that never accepteth anything as gift!' These have been the words repeatedly spoken unto me by the proud Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan, with eyes red with anger. If, O father, I am really the daughter of a hired chanter of praises, of one that accepteth gifts, I must offer my adorations in the hope of obtaining her grace! Oh, of this I have already told her!" "'Sukra replied, "Thou art, O Devayani, no daughter of a hired adorer, of one that asketh for alms and accepteth gifts. Thou art the daughter of one that adores none, but of one that is adored by all! Vrishaparvan himself knoweth it, and Indra, and king Yayati too. That inconceivable Brahma, that unopposable Godhead, is my strength! The self-create, himself, gratified by me, hath said that I am for aye the lord of that which is in all things on Earth or in Heaven! I tell thee truly that it is I who pour rain for the good of creatures and who nourish the annual plants that sustain all living things!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'It was by such sweet words of excellent import that the father endeavoured to pacify his daughter afflicted with woe and oppressed by anger.'" SECTION LXXIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Sukra continued, "Know, then, O Devayani, that he that mindeth not the evil speeches of others, conquereth everything! The wise say that he is a true charioteer who without slackening holdeth tightly the reins of his horses. He, therefore, is the true man that subdueth, without indulging in his rising wrath. Know thou, O Devayani, that by him is everything conquered, who calmly subdueth his rising anger. He is regarded as a man who by having recourse to forgiveness, shaketh off his rising anger like a snake casting off its slough. He that suppresseth his anger, he that regardeth not the evil speeches of others, he that becometh not angry, though there be cause, certainly acquireth the four objects for which we live (viz., virtue, profit, desire, and salvation). Between him that performeth without fatigue sacrifices every month for a hundred years, and him that never feeleth angry at anything, he that feeleth not wrath is certainly the higher. Boys and girls, unable to distinguish between right and wrong, quarrel with each other. The wise never imitate them." Devayani, on hearing this speech of her father, said, "O father, I know, also what the difference is between anger and forgiveness as regards the power of each. But when a disciple behaveth disrespectfully, he should never be forgiven by the preceptor if the latter is really desirous of benefiting the former. Therefore, I do not desire to live any longer in a country where evil behaviour is at a premium. The wise man desirous of good, should not dwell among those sinfully inclined men who always speak ill of good behaviour and high birth. But there should one live,--indeed, that hath been said to be the best of dwelling places,--where good behaviour and purity of birth are known and respected. The cruel words uttered by Vrishaparvan's daughter burn my heart even as men, desirous of kindling a fire, burn the dry fuel. I do not think anything more miserable for a man in the three worlds than to adore one's enemies blessed with good fortune, himself possessing none. It hath been indeed said by the learned that for such a man even death would be better."'" SECTION LXXX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Kavya, the foremost of Bhrigu's line, became angry himself. And approaching Vrishaparvan where the latter was seated, began to address him without weighing his words, "O king," he said, "sinful acts do not, like the Earth, bear fruit immediately! But gradually and secretly do they extirpate their doers. Such fruit visiteth either in one's own self, one's son, or one's grandson. Sins must bear their fruit. Like rich food they can never be digested. And because ye slew the Brahmana Kacha, the grandson of Angiras, who was virtuous, acquainted with the precepts of religion, and attentive to his duties, while residing in my abode, even for this act of slaughter--and for the mal-treatment of my daughter too, know, O Vrishaparvan, I shall leave thee and thy relatives! Indeed, O king, for this, I can no longer stay with thee! Dost thou, O Asura chief, think that I am a raving liar? Thou makest light of thy offence without seeking to correct it!" "'Vrishaparvan then said, "O son of Bhrigu, never have I attributed want of virtue, of falsehood, to thee. Indeed, virtue and truth ever dwell in thee. Be kind to me! O Bhargava, if, leaving us, thou really goest hence, we shall then go into the depths of the ocean. Indeed, there is nothing else for us to do." "'Sukra then replied, "Ye Asuras, whether ye go into the depths of the ocean or fly away to all directions, I care little. I am unable to bear my daughter's grief. My daughter is ever dear to me. My life dependeth on her. Seek ye to please her. As Vrihaspati ever seeketh the good of Indra, so do I always seek thine by my ascetic merits." "'Vrishaparvan then said, "O Bhargava, thou art the absolute master of whatever is possessed by the Asura chiefs in this world-their elephants, kine and horses, and even my humble self!" "'Sukra then answered, "If it is true, O great Asura, that I am the lord of all the wealth of the Asuras, then go and gratify Devayani."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'when the great Kavya was so addressed by Vrishaparvan, he then went to Devayani and told her all. Devayani, however, quickly replied, "O Bhargava, if thou art truly the lord of the Asura king himself and of all his wealth, then let the king himself come to me and say so in my presence." Vrishaparvan then approached Devayani and told her, "O Devayani of sweet smiles, whatever thou desirest I am willing to give thee, however difficult it may be to grant the same." Devayani answered, "I desire Sarmishtha with a thousand maids to wait on me! She must also follow me to where my father may give me away." "'Vrishaparvan then commanded a maid-servant in attendance on him, saying, "Go and quickly bring Sarmishtha hither. Let her also accomplish what Devayani wisheth."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The maid-servant then repaired to Sarmishtha and told her, "O amiable Sarmishtha, rise and follow me. Accomplish the good of thy relatives. Urged by Devayani, the Brahmana (Sukra) is on the point of leaving his disciples (the Asuras). O sinless one, thou must do what Devayani wisheth." Sarmishtha replied, "I shall cheerfully do what Devayani wisheth. Urged by Devayani Sukra is calling me. Both Sukra and Devayani must not leave the Asuras through my fault." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Commanded by her father, then, Sarmishtha, accompanied by a thousand maidens, soon came, in a palanquin, out of her father's excellent mansion. And approaching Devayani she said, "With my thousand maids, I am thy waiting-maid! And I shall follow thee where thy father may give thee away." Devayani replied, "I am the daughter of one who chanteth the praises of thy father, and who beggeth and accepteth alms; thou, on the other hand, art the daughter of one who is adored. How canst thou be my waiting-maid?" "'Sarmishtha answered, "One must by all means contribute to the happiness of one's afflicted relatives. Therefore shall I follow thee wherever thy father may give thee away."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'When Sarmishtha thus promised to be Devayani's waiting-maid the latter, O king, then spoke unto her father thus, "O best of all excellent Brahmanas, I am gratified. I shall now enter the Asura capital! I now know that thy science and power of knowledge are not futile!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'That best of Brahmanas, of great reputation, thus addressed by his daughter, then, entered the Asura capital in the gladness of his heart. And the Danavas worshipped him with great reverence.'" SECTION LXXXI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After some length of time, O best of monarchs, Devayani of the fairest complexion went into the same woods for purposes of pleasure. And accompanied by Sarmishtha with her thousand maids she reached the same spot and began to wander freely. And waited upon by all those companions she felt supremely happy. And sporting with light hearts, they began drinking the honey in flowers, eating various kinds of fruit and biting some. And just at that time, king Yayati, the son of Nahusha, again came there tired and thirsty, in course of his wanderings, in search of deer. And the king saw Devayani and Sarmishtha, and those other maidens also, all decked with celestial ornaments and full of voluptuous languor in consequence of the flower-honey they drank. And Devayani of sweet smiles, unrivalled for beauty and possessed of the fairest complexion amongst them all, was reclining at her ease. And she was waited upon by Sarmishtha who was gently kneading her feet. "'And Yayati seeing all this, said, "O amiable ones, I would ask you both your names and parentage. It seems that these two thousand maids wait on you two." Hearing the monarch, Devayani then answered, "Listen to me, O best of men. Know that I am the daughter of Sukra, the spiritual guide of the Asuras. This my companion is my waiting-maid. She attendeth on me wherever I go. She is Sarmishtha, the daughter of the Asura king Vrishaparvan." "'Yayati then asked, "I am curious to know why is this thy companion of fair eye-brows, this maiden of the fairest complexion, the daughter of the Asura chief thy waiting-maid!" Devayani replied, "O best of king, everything resulteth from Fate. Knowing this also to be the result of Fate, wonder not at it. Thy feature and attire are both like a king's. Thy speech also is fair and correct as that of the Vedas. Tell me thy name, whence thou art and whose son also." "'The monarch replied, "During my vow of Brahmacharya, the whole Vedas entered my ears. I am known as Yayati, a king's son and myself a king." Devayani then enquired, "O king, what hast thou come here for? Is it to gather lotuses or to angle or to hunt?" Yayati said, "O amiable one, thirsty from the pursuit of deer, I have come hither in search of water. I am very much fatigued. I await but your commands to leave this spot." "'Devayani answered, "With my two thousand damsels and my waiting-maid Sarmishtha, I wait but your commands. Prosperity to thee. Be thou my friend and lord." "'Yayati, thereupon, replied, "Beautiful one, I do not deserve thee. Thou art the daughter of Sukra far superior to me. Thy father cannot bestow thee even on a great king." To this Devayani replied, "Brahmanas had before this been united with the Kshatriyas, and Kshatriyas with Brahmanas. Thou art the son of a Rishi and thyself a Rishi. Therefore, O son of Nahusha, marry me." Yayati, however, replied, "O thou of the handsomest features, the four orders have, indeed, sprung from one body. But their duties and purity are not the same, the Brahmana being truly superior to all." Devayani answered, "This hand of mine hath never been touched before by any man save thee. Therefore, do I accept thee for my lord. How, indeed, shall any other man touch my hand which had before been touched by thyself who art a Rishi?" Yayati then said, "The wise know that a Brahmana is more to be avoided than an angry snake of virulent poison, or a blazing fire of spreading flames." Devayani then told the monarch, "O bull amongst men, why dost thou, indeed, say that Brahmana should be more avoided than an angry snake of virulent poison or a blazing fire of spreading flames?" The monarch answered, "The snake killeth only one. The sharpest weapon slayeth but a single person. The Brahmana, when angry destroyeth whole cities and kingdoms! Therefore, O timid one, do I deem a Brahmana as more to be avoided than either. I cannot hence wed thee, O amiable one, unless thy father bestoweth thee on me." Devayani then said, "Thou art, indeed, chosen by me. And, O king, it is understood that thou wilt accept me if my father bestoweth me on thee. Thou needst not fear to accept my poor self bestowed on thee. Thou dost not, indeed, ask for me."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After this, Devayani quickly sent a maidservant to her father. The maid represented to Sukra everything as it had happened. And as soon as he had heard all, Bhargava came and saw Yayati. And beholding Bhargava come, Yayati worshipped and adored that Brahmana, and stood with joined palms in expectation of his commands. "'And Devayani then said, "This O father, is the son of Nahusha. He took hold of my hand, when I was in distress. I bow to thee. Bestow me upon him. I shall not wed any other person in the world." Sukra exclaimed, "O thou of splendid courage, thou hast, indeed, been accepted as her lord by this my dear daughter. I bestow her on thee. Therefore, O son of Nahusha, accept her as thy wife." "'Yayati then said, "I solicit the boon, O Brahmana, that by so doing, the sin of begetting a half-breed might not touch me." Sukra, however, assured him by saying, "I shall absolve thee from the sin. Ask thou the boon that thou desirest. Fear not to wed her. I grant thee absolution. Maintain virtuously thy wife--the slender-waisted Devayani. Transports of happiness be thine in her company. This other maiden, Vrishaparvan's daughter, Sarmishtha should ever be regarded by thee. But thou shall not summon her to thy bed."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Sukra, Yayati then walked round the Brahmana. And the king then went through the auspicious ceremony of marriage according to the rites of the scriptures. And having received from Sukra this rich treasure of the excellent Devayani with Sarmishtha and those two thousand maidens, and duly honoured also by Sukra himself and the Asuras, the best of monarchs, then, commanded by the high-souled Bhargava, returned to his capital with a joyous heart.'" SECTION LXXXII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Yayati then, on returning to his capital which was like unto the city of Indra, entered his inner apartments and established there his bride Devayani. And the monarch, directed by Devayani, established Vrishaparvan's daughter Sarmishtha in a mansion especially erected near the artificial woods of Asokas in his gardens. And the king surrounded Vrishaparvan's daughter Sarmishtha with a thousand maids and honoured her by making every arrangement for her food and garments. But it was with Devayani that the royal son of Nahusha sported like a celestial for many years in joy and bliss. And when her season came, the fair Devayani conceived. And she brought forth as her first child a fine boy. And when a thousand years had passed away, Vrishaparvan's daughter Sarmishtha having attained to puberty saw that her season had come. She became anxious and said to herself, "My season hath arrived. But I have not yet chosen a husband. O, what hath happened, what should I do? How am I to obtain the fruition of my wishes? Devayani hath become mother. My youth is doomed to pass away in vain. Shall I choose him also for my husband whom Devayani hath chosen? This is, indeed, my resolve: that monarch should give me a son. Will not the virtuous one grant me a private interview?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'While Sarmishtha was thus busy with her thoughts, the king wandering listlessly came to that very wood of Asokas, and beholding Sarmishtha before him, stood there in silence. Then Sarmishtha of sweet smiles seeing the monarch before her with nobody to witness what might pass, approached him and said with joined palms, "O son of Nahusha, no one can behold the ladies that dwell in the inner apartments of Soma, of Indra, of Vishnu, of Yama, of Varuna, and of thee! Thou knowest, O king, that I am both handsome and well-born. I solicit thee, O king! My season hath arrived. See that it goeth not in vain." "'Yayati answered, "Well do I know that honour of birth is thine, born as thou art in the proud race of the Danavas. Thou art also gifted with beauty. I do not, indeed, see even the speck of a fault in thy feature. But Usanas commanded me, while I was united with Devayani, that never should Vrishaparvan's daughter be summoned to my bed." "'Sarmishtha then said, "It hath been said, O king, that it is not sinful to lie on the occasion of a joke, in respect of women sought to be enjoyed, on occasions of marriage, in peril of immediate death and of the loss of one's whole fortune. Lying is excusable on these five occasions. O king, it is not true that he is fallen who speaks not the truth when asked. Both Devayani and myself have been called hither as companions to serve the same purpose. When, therefore, thou hadst said that you wouldst confine thyself to one only amongst as, that was a lie thou hadst spoken." Yayati replied, "A king should ever be a model in the eyes of his people. That monarch certainly meets with destruction who speaks an untruth. As for myself, I dare not speak an untruth even if the greatest loss threatens me!" Sarmishtha answered, "O monarch, one may look upon her friend's husband as her own. One's friend's marriage is the same as one's own. Thou hast been chosen by my friend as her husband. Thou art as much my husband, therefore." Yayati then said, "It is, indeed my vow always to grant what one asketh. As thou askest me, tell me then what I am to do." Sarmishtha then said, "Absolve me, O king, from sin. Protect my virtue. Becoming a mother by thee, let me practise the highest virtue in this world. It is said, O king, that a wife, a slave, and a son can never earn wealth for themselves. What they earn always belongeth to him who owneth them. I am, indeed, the slave of Devayani. Thou art Devayani's master and lord. Thou art, therefore, O king, my master and lord as much as Devayani's! I solicit thee! O, fulfil my wishes!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Sarmishtha, the monarch was persuaded into the truth of all she spoke. He therefore, honoured Sarmishtha by protecting her virtue. And they passed some time together. And taking affectionate farewell of each other, they then parted, each returning to whence he or she had come. "'And it came to pass that Sarmishtha of sweet smiles and fair eyebrows conceived in consequence of that connection of hers with that best of monarchs. And, O king, that lotus-eyed lady then in due course of time brought forth a son of the splendour of a celestial child and of eyes like lotus-petals.'" SECTION LXXXIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'When Devayani of sweet smiles heard of the birth of this child, she became jealous, and O Bharata, Sarmishtha became an object of her unpleasant reflections. And Devayani, repairing to her, addressed her thus, "O thou of fair eye-brows, what sin is this thou hast committed by yielding to the influence of lust?" Sarmishtha replied, "A certain Rishi of virtuous soul and fully conversant with the Vedas came to me. Capable of granting boons he was solicited by me to grant my wishes that were based on considerations of virtue. O thou of sweet smiles, I would not seek the sinful fulfilment of my desires. I tell thee truly that this child of mine is by that Rishi!" Devayani answered, "It is all right if that be the case, O timid one! But if the lineage, name, and family of that Brahmana be known to thee, I should like to hear them." Sarmishtha replied, "O thou of sweet smiles, in asceticism and energy, that Rishi is resplendent like the Sun himself. Beholding him, I had not, any need to make these enquiries--" Devayani then said, "If this is true, if indeed, thou hast obtained thy child from such a superior Brahmana, then, O Sarmishtha, I have no cause of anger." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having thus talked and laughed with each other, they separated, Devayani returning to the palace with the knowledge imparted to her by Sarmishtha. And, O king, Yayati also begot on Devayani two sons called Yadu and Turvasu, who were like Indra and Vishnu. And Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan, became through the royal sage the mother of three sons in all, named Drahyu, Anu, and Puru. "'And, O king, it so came to pass that one day Devayani of sweet smiles, by Yayati, went into a solitary part of the woods, (in the king's extensive park). And there she saw three children of celestial beauty playing with perfect trustfulness. And Devayani asked in surprise, "Whose children are they, O king, who are so handsome and so like unto the children of the celestials? In splendour and beauty they are like thee, I should think."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'And Devayani without waiting for a reply from the king, asked the children themselves, "Ye children, what is your lineage? Who is your father? Answer me truly. I desire to know all." Those children then pointed at the king (with their forefingers) and spoke of Sarmishtha as their mother. "'And having so said, the children approached the king to clasp his knees. But the king dared not caress them in the presence of Devayani. The boys then left the place, and made towards their mother, weeping in grief. And the king, at this conduct of the boys, became very much abashed. But Devayani, marking the affection of the children for the king learnt the secret and addressing Sarmishtha, said, "How hast thou dared to do me an injury, being, as thou art, dependent on me? Dost thou not fear to have recourse once more to that Asura custom of thine?" "'Sarmishtha said, "O thou of sweet smiles, all that I told thee of a Rishi is perfectly true. I have acted rightly and according to the precepts of virtue, and therefore, do I not fear thee. When thou hadst chosen the king for thy husband, I, too, chose him as mine. O beautiful one, a friend's husband is, according to usage, one's own husband as well. Thou art the daughter of a Brahmana and, therefore, deservest my worship and regard. But dost thou not know that this royal sage is held by me in greater esteem still?"' "Vaisampayana said, 'Devayani then, hearing those words of hers, exclaimed, O king, thus, "Thou hast wronged me, O monarch! I shall not live here any longer." And saying this, she quickly rose, with tearful eyes, to go to her father. And the king was grieved to see her thus, and alarmed greatly, followed in her foot-steps, endeavouring to appease her wrath. But Devayani, with eyes red with anger, would not desist. Speaking not a word to the king, with eyes bathed in tears, she soon reached the side of her father Usanas, the son of Kavi. And beholding her father, she stood before him, after due salutations. And Yayati also, immediately after, saluted and worshipped Bhargava. "'And Devayani said, "O father, virtue hath been vanquished by vice. The low have risen, and the high have fallen. I have been offended again by Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan. Three sons have been begotten upon her by this king Yayati. But, O father, being luckless I have got only two sons! O son of Bhrigu, this king is renowned for his knowledge of the precepts of religion. But, O Kavya, I tell thee that he hath deviated from the path of rectitude." "'Sukra, hearing all this, said, "O monarch, since thou hast made vice thy beloved pursuit, though fully acquainted with the precepts of religion, invincible decrepitude shall paralyse thee!" Yayati answered, "Adorable one, I was solicited by the daughter of the Danava king to fructify her season. I did it from a sense of virtue and not from other motives. That male person, who being solicited by a woman in her season doth not grant her wishes, is called, O Brahmana, by those conversant with the Vedas, a slayer of the embryo. He who, solicited in secret by a woman full of desire and in season, goeth not in unto her, loseth virtue and is called by the learned a killer of the embryo. O son of Bhrigu, for these reasons, and anxious to avoid sin, I went into Sarmishtha." Sukra then replied, "Thou art dependent on me. Thou shouldst have awaited my command. Having acted falsely in the matter of thy duty, O son of Nahusha, thou hast been guilty of the sin of theft."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Yayati, the son of Nahusha, thus cursed by the angry Usanas, was then divested of his youth and immediately overcome by decrepitude. And Yayati said, "O son of Bhrigu, I have not yet been satiated with youth or with Devayani. Therefore, O Brahmana, be graceful unto me so that decrepitude might not touch me." Sukra then answered, "I never speak an untruth. Even now, O king, art thou attacked by decrepitude. But if thou likest, thou art competent to transfer this thy decrepitude to another." Yayati said, "O Brahmana, let it be commanded by thee that that son of mine who giveth me his youth shall enjoy my kingdom, and shall achieve both virtue and fame." Sukra replied, "O son of Nahusha, thinking of me thou mayst transfer this thy decrepitude to whomsoever thou likest. That son who shall give thee his youth shall become thy successor to the throne. He shall also have long life, wide fame, and numerous progeny!"'" SECTION LXXXIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Yayati, then, overcome with decrepitude, returned to his capital and summoning his eldest son Yadu who was also the most accomplished, addressed him thus, "Dear child, from the curse of Kavya called also Usanas, decrepitude and wrinkles and whiteness of hair have come over me. But I have not been gratified yet with the enjoyment of youth. Do thou, O Yadu, take this my weakness along with my decrepitude. I shall enjoy with thy youth. And when a full thousand years will have elapsed, returning to thee thy youth, I shall take back my weakness with this decrepitude!" "'Yadu replied, "There are innumerable inconveniences in decrepitude, in respect of drinking and eating. Therefore, O king, I shall not take thy decrepitude. This is, indeed, my determination. White hair on the head, cheerlessness and relaxation of the nerves, wrinkles all over the body, deformities, weakness of the limbs, emaciation, incapacity to work, defeat at the hands of friends and companions--these are the consequences of decrepitude. Therefore, O king, I desire not to take it. O king, thou hast many sons some of whom are dearer to thee. Thou art acquainted with the precepts of virtue. Ask some other son of thine to take thy decrepitude." "'Yayati replied, "Thou art sprung from my heart, O son, but thou givest me not thy youth. Therefore, thy children shall never be kings." And he continued, addressing another son of his, "O Turvasu, take thou this weakness of mine along with my decrepitude. With thy youth, O son, I like to enjoy the pleasure of life. After the lapse of a full thousand years I shall give back to thee thy youth, and take back from thee my weakness and decrepitude." "'Turvasu replied, "I do not like decrepitude, O father, it takes away all appetites and enjoyments, strength and beauty of person, intellect, and even life." Yayati said to him, "Thou art sprung from my heart, O son! But thou givest me not thy youth! Therefore, O Turvasu, thy race shall be extinct. Wretch, thou shall be the king of those whose practices and precepts are impure, amongst whom men of inferior blood procreate children upon women of blue blood, who live on meat, who are mean, who hesitate not to appropriate the wives of their superiors, whose practices are those of birds and beasts, who are sinful, and non-Aryan."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Yayati, having thus cursed his son Turvasu, then, addressed Sarmishtha's son Drahyu thus, "O Drahyu, take thou for a thousand years my decrepitude destructive of complexion and personal beauty and give me thy youth. When a thousand years have passed away, I shall return thee thy youth and take back my own weakness and decrepitude." To this Drahyu replied, "O king, one that is decrepit can never enjoy elephants and cars and horses and women. Even his voice becometh hoarse. Therefore, I do not desire (to take) thy decrepitude." Yayati said to him, "Thou art sprung from my heart, O son! But thou refusest to give me thy youth. Therefore, thy most cherished desires shall never be fulfilled. Thou shalt be king only in name, of that region where there are no roads for (the passage of) horses and cars and elephants, and good vehicles, and asses, and goats and bullocks, and palanquins; where there is swimming only by rafts and floats." Yayati next addressed Anu and said, "O Anu, take my weakness and decrepitude. I shall with thy youth enjoy the pleasures of life for a thousand years." To this Anu replied, "Those that are decrepit always eat like children and are always impure. They cannot pour libations upon fire in proper times. Therefore, I do not like to take thy decrepitude." Yayati said to him, "Thou art sprung from my heart, thou givest not thy youth. Thou findest so many faults in decrepitude. Therefore, decrepitude shall overcome thee! And, O Anu, thy progeny also as soon as they attain to youth, shall die. And thou shalt also not be able to perform sacrifices before fire." "'Yayati at last turned to his youngest child, Puru, and addressing him said, "Thou art, O Puru, my youngest son! But thou shall be the first of all! Decrepitude, wrinkles, and whiteness of hair have come over me in consequence of the curse of Kavya called also Usanas. I have not yet however, been satiated with my youth. O Puru, take thou this my weakness and decrepitude! With thy youth I shall enjoy for some years the pleasures of life. And when a thousand years have passed away, I shall give back to thee thy youth and take back my own decrepitude."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by the king, Puru answered with humility, "I shall do, O monarch, as thou bidest me. I shall take, O king, thy weakness and decrepitude. Take thou my youth and enjoy as thou listest the pleasures of life. Covered with thy decrepitude and becoming old, I shall, as thou commandest, continue to live, giving thee my youth." Yayati then said, "O Puru, I have been gratified with thee. And being gratified, I tell thee that the people in thy kingdom shall have all their desires fulfilled." "'And having said this, the great ascetic Yayati, then thinking of Kavya, transferred his decrepitude unto the body of the high-souled Puru.'" SECTION LXXXV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The excellent monarch Yayati, the son of Nahusha, having received Puru's youth, became exceedingly gratified. And with it he once more began to indulge in his favourite pursuits to the full extent of his desires and to the limit of his powers, according to seasons, so as to derive the greatest pleasure therefrom. And, O king, in nothing that he did, he acted against the precepts of his religion as behoved him well. He gratified the gods by his sacrifices; the pitris, by Sraddhas; the poor, by his charities; all excellent Brahmanas, by fulfilling their desires; all persons entitled to the rites of hospitality, with food and drink; the Vaisyas, by protection; and the Sudras, by kindness. And the king repressed all criminals by proper punishments. And Yayati, gratifying all sections of his subjects, protected them virtuously like another Indra. And the monarch possessed of the prowess of a lion, with youth and every object of enjoyment under control, enjoyed unlimited happiness without transgressing the precepts of religion. And the king became very happy in thus being able to enjoy all the excellent objects of his desires. And he was only sorry when he thought that those thousand years would come to an end. And having obtained youth for a thousand years, the king acquainted with the mysteries of time, and watching proper Kalas and Kashthas sported with (the celestial damsel) Viswachi, sometimes in the beautiful garden of Indra, sometimes in Alaka (the city of Kuvera), and sometimes on the summit of the mountain Meru on the north. And when the virtuous monarch saw that the thousand years were full, he summoned his son, Puru, and addressed him thus, "O oppressor of foes, with thy youth, O son, I have enjoyed the pleasures of life, each according to its season to the full extent of my desires, to the limit of my powers. Our desires, however, are never gratified by indulgence. On the other hand, with indulgence, they only flame up like fire with libations of sacrificial butter. If a single person were owner of everything on Earth--all her yields of paddy and barley, her silver, gold, and gems, her animals and women, he would not still be content. Thirst of enjoyment, therefore, should be given up. Indeed, true happiness belongeth to them that have cast off their thirst for worldly objects--a thirst which is difficult to be thrown off by the wicked and the sinful, which faileth not with the failing life, and which is truly the fatal disease of man. My heart hath for a full thousand years been fixed upon the objects of desires. My thirst for these, however, increaseth day by day without abating. Therefore, I shall cast it off, and fixing my mind on Brahma I shall pass the rest of my days with the innocent deer in the forest peacefully and with no heart for any worldly objects. And O Puru, I have been exceedingly gratified with thee! Prosperity be thine! Receive back this thy youth! Receive thou also my kingdom. Thou art, indeed, that son of mine who has done me the greatest services."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Yayati, the son of Nahusha, received back his decrepitude. And his son Puru received back his own youth. And Yayati was desirous of installing Puru, his youngest son, on the throne. But the four orders, with the Brahmanas at their head, then addressed the monarch thus, "O king, how shall thou bestow thy kingdom on Puru, passing over thy eldest son Yadu born of Devayani, and, therefore, the grandson of the great Sukra? Indeed, Yadu is thy eldest son; after him hath been born Turvasu; and of Sarmishtha's sons, the first is Drahyu, then Anu and then Puru. How doth the youngest deserve the throne, passing all his elder brothers over? This we represent to thee! O, conform to virtuous practice." "'Yayati then said, "Ye four orders with Brahmanas at their head, hear my words as to why my kingdom should not be given to my eldest son. My commands have been disobeyed by my eldest son, Yadu. The wise say that he is no son who disobeyeth his father. That son, however, who doth the bidding of his parents, who seeketh their good, who is agreeable to them, is indeed, the best of sons. I have been disregarded by Yadu and by Turvasu, too. Much I have been disregarded by Drahyu and by Anu also. By Puru alone hath my word been obeyed. By him have I been much regarded. Therefore, the youngest shall be my heir. He took my decrepitude. Indeed, Puru is my friend. He did what was so agreeable to me. It hath also been commanded by Sukra himself, the son of Kavi, that, that son of mine who should obey me will become king after me and bring the whole Earth under his sway. I, therefore, beseech thee, let Puru be installed on the throne." "'The people then said, "True it is, O king, that, that son who is accomplished and who seeketh the good of his parents, deserveth prosperity even if he be the youngest. Therefore, doth Puru, who hath done thee good, deserve the crown. And as Sukra himself hath commanded it, we have nothing to say to it."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The son of Nahusha, thus addressed by the contented people, then installed his son, Puru, on the throne. And having bestowed his kingdom on Puru, the monarch performed the initiatory ceremonies for retiring into the woods. And soon after he left his capital, followed by Brahmanas and ascetics. "'The sons of Yadu are known by the name of the Yadavas: while those of Turvasu have come to be called the Yavanas. And the sons of Drahyu are the Bhojas, while those of Anu, the Mlechchhas. The progeny of Puru, however, are the Pauravas, amongst whom, O monarch, thou art born, in order to rule for a thousand years with thy passions under complete control.'" SECTION LXXXVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'King Yayati, the son of Nahusha, having thus installed his dear son on the throne, became exceedingly happy, and entered into the woods to lead the life of a hermit. And having lived for some time into forest in the company of Brahmanas, observing many rigid vows, eating fruits and roots, patiently bearing privations of all sorts, the monarch at last ascended to heaven. And having ascended to heaven he lived there in bliss. But soon, however, he was hurled down by Indra. And it hath been heard by me, O king, that, though hurled from heaven, Yayati, without reaching the surface of the Earth, stayed in the firmament. I have heard that some time after he again entered the region of the celestials in company with Vasuman, Ashtaka, Pratarddana, and Sivi.' "Janamejaya said, 'I desire to hear from thee in detail why Yayati, having first obtained admission into heaven, was hurled therefrom, and why also he gained re-admittance. Let all this, O Brahmana, be narrated by thee in the presence of these regenerate sages. Yayati, lord of Earth, was, indeed, like the chief of the celestials. The progenitor of the extensive race of the Kurus, he was of the splendour of the Sun. I desire to hear in full the story of his life both in heaven and on Earth, as he was illustrious, and of world-wide celebrity and of wonderful achievements.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Indeed, I shall recite to thee the excellent story of Yayati's adventures on Earth and in heaven. That story is sacred and destroyeth the sins of those that hear it. "'King Yayati, the son of Nahusha, having installed his youngest son, Puru, on the throne after casting his sons with Yadu for their eldest amongst the Mlechchhas, entered the forest to lead the life of a hermit. And the king eating fruits and roots lived for some time in the forest. Having his mind and passions under complete control, the king gratified by sacrifices the Pitris and the gods. And he poured libations of clarified butter upon the fire according to the rites prescribed for those leading the Vanaprastha mode of life. And the illustrious one entertained guests and strangers with the fruit of the forest and clarified butter, while he himself supported life by gleaning scattered corn seeds. And the king led this sort of life for a full thousand years. And observing the vow of silence and with mind under complete control he passed one full year, living upon air alone and without sleep. And he passed another year practising the severest austerities in the midst of four fires around and the Sun overhead. And, living upon air alone, he stood erect upon one leg for six months. And the king of sacred deeds ascended to heaven, covering heaven as well as the Earth (with the fame of his achievements).'" SECTION LXXXVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'While that king of kings dwelt in heaven--the home of the celestials, he was reverenced by the gods, the Sadhyas, the Maruts, and the Vasus. Of sacred deeds, and mind under complete control, the monarch used to repair now and then from the abode of the celestials unto the region of Brahman. And it hath been heard by me that he dwelt for a long time in heaven. "'One day that best of kings, Yayati, went to Indra and there in course of conversation the lord of Earth was asked by Indra as follows: "'"What didst thou say, O king, when thy son Puru took thy decrepitude on Earth and when thou gavest him thy kingdom?" "'Yayati answered, "I told him that the whole country between the rivers Ganga and Yamuna was his. That is, indeed, the central region of the Earth, while the out-lying regions are to be the dominions of thy brothers. I also told him that those without anger were ever superior to those under its sway, those disposed to forgive were ever superior to the unforgiving. Man is superior to the lower animals. Among men again the learned are superior to the un-learned. If wronged, thou shouldst not wrong in return. One's wrath, if disregarded, burneth one's own self; but he that regardeth it not taketh away all the virtues of him that exhibiteh it. Never shouldst thou pain others by cruel speeches. Never subdue thy foes by despicable means; and never utter such scorching and sinful words as may torture others. He that pricketh as if with thorns men by means of hard and cruel words, thou must know, ever carrieth in his mouth the Rakshasas. Prosperity and luck fly away at his very sight. Thou shouldst ever keep the virtuous before thee as thy models; thou shouldst ever with retrospective eye compare thy acts with those of the virtuous; thou shouldst ever disregard the hard words of the wicked. Thou shouldst ever make the conduct of the wise the model upon which thou art to act thyself. The man hurt by the arrows of cruel speech hurled from one's lips, weepeth day and night. Indeed, these strike at the core of the body. Therefore the wise never fling these arrows at others. There is nothing in the three worlds by which thou canst worship and adore the deities better than by kindness, friendship, charity and sweet speeches unto all. Therefore, shouldst thou always utter words that soothe, and not those that scorch. And thou shouldst regard those that deserve thy regards, and shouldst always give but never beg!"'" SECTION LXXXVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After this Indra again asked Yayati, "Thou didst retire into the woods, O king, after accomplishing all thy duties. O Yayati, son of Nahusha, I would ask thee to whom thou art equal in ascetic austerities." Yayati answered, "O Vasava, I do not, in the matter of ascetic austerities, behold my equal among men, the celestials, the Gandharvas, and the great Rishis." Indra then said, "O monarch, because thou disregardest those that are thy superiors, thy equals, and even thy inferiors, without, in fact, knowing their real merits, thy virtues have suffered diminution and thou must fall from heaven." Yayati then said, "O Sakra, if, indeed, my virtues have really sustained diminution and I must on that account fall down from heaven, I desire, O chief of the celestials, that I may at least fall among the virtuous and the honest." Indra replied, "O king, thou shall fall among those that are virtuous and wise, and thou shall acquire also much renown. And after this experience of thine, O Yayati, never again disregard those that are thy superiors or even thy equals."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Upon this, Yayati fell from the region of the celestials. And as he was falling, he was beheld by that foremost of royal sages, viz., Ashtaka, the protector of his own religion. Ashtaka beholding him, enquired, "Who art thou, O youth of a beauty equal to that of Indra, in splendour blazing as the fire, thus falling from on high? Art thou that foremost of sky-ranging bodies--the sun--emerging from, dark masses of clouds? Beholding thee falling from the solar course, possessed of immeasurable energy and the splendour of fire or the sun, every one is curious as to what it is that is so falling, and is, besides, deprived of consciousness! Beholding thee in the path of the celestials, possessed of energy like that of Sakra, or Surya, or Vishnu, we have approached thee to ascertain the truth. If thou hadst first asked us who we were, we would never have been guilty of the incivility of asking thee first. We now ask thee who thou art and why thou approachest hither. Let thy fears be dispelled; let thy woes and afflictions cease. Thou art now in the presence of the virtuous and the wise. Even Sakra himself--the slayer of Vala--cannot here do thee any injury. O thou of the prowess of the chief of the celestials, the wise and the virtuous are the support of their brethren in grief. Here there are none but the wise and virtuous like thee assembled together. Therefore, stay thou here in peace. Fire alone hath power to give heat. The Earth alone hath power to infuse life into the seed. The sun alone hath power to illuminate everything. So the guest alone hath power to command the virtuous and the wise."'" SECTION LXXXIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Yayati said, "I am Yayati, the son of Nahusha and the father of Puru. Cast off from the region of the celestials and of Siddhas and Rishis for having disregarded every creature, I am falling down, my righteousness having sustained diminution. In years I am older than you; therefore, I have not saluted you first. Indeed, the Brahmanas always reverence him who is older in years or superior in learning or in ascetic merit." "'Ashtaka then replied, "Thou sayest, O monarch, that he who is older in years is worthy of regard. But it is said that he is truly worthy of worship who is superior in learning and ascetic merit." "'Yayati replied to this, "It is said that sin destroyeth the merits of four virtuous acts. Vanity containeth the element of that which leadeth to hell. The virtuous never follow in the footsteps of the vicious. They act in such a way that their religious merit always increaseth. I myself had great religious merit, but all that, however, is gone. I will scarcely be able to regain it even by my best exertions. Beholding my fate, he that is bent upon (achieving) his own good, will certainly suppress vanity. He who having acquired great performeth meritorious sacrifices, who having acquired all kinds of learning remaineth humble, and who having studied the entire Vedas devoteth himself to asceticism with a heart withdrawn from all mundane enjoyments, goeth to heaven. None should exult in having acquired great wealth. None should be vain of having studied the entire Vedas. In the world men are of different dispositions. Destiny is supreme. Both power and exertion are all fruitless. Knowing Destiny to be all- powerful, the wise, whatever their portions may be, should neither exult nor boast. When creatures know that their weal and woe are dependent on Destiny and not on their own exertion or power, they should neither grieve nor exult, remembering that Destiny is all powerful. The wise should ever live contented, neither grieving at woe nor exulting at weal. When Destiny is supreme, both grief and exultation are one. O Ashtaka, I never suffer myself to be overcome by fear, nor do I ever entertain grief, knowing for certain that I shall be in the world what the great disposer of all hath ordained. Insects and worms, all oviparous creatures, vegetable existences, all crawling animals, vermin, the fish in the water, stones, grass, wood--in fact, all created things, when they are freed from the effects of their acts, are united with the Supreme Soul. Happiness and misery are both transient. Therefore, O Ashtaka, why should I grieve? We can never know how we are to act in order to avoid misery. Therefore, none should grieve for misery." "'Possessed of every virtue, king Yayati who was the maternal grandfather of Ashtaka, while staying in the welkin, at the conclusion of his speech, was again questioned by Ashtaka. The latter said, "O king of kings, tell me, in detail, of all those regions that thou hast visited and enjoyed, as well as the period for which thou hast enjoyed each. Thou speakest of the precepts of religion even like the clever masters acquainted with the acts and sayings of great beings!" Yayati replied, "I was a great king on Earth, owning the whole world for my dominion. Leaving it, I acquired by dint of religious merit many high regions. There I dwelt for a full thousand years, and then I attained to a very high region the abode of Indra, of extraordinary beauty having a thousand gates, and extending over a hundred yojanas all round. There too, I dwelt a full thousand years and then attained to a higher region still. That is the region of perfect beatitude, where decay never exists, the region, viz., that of the Creator and the Lord of Earth, so difficult of attainment. There also I dwelt for a full thousand years, and then attained to another very high region viz., that of the god of gods (Vishnu) where, too, I had lived in happiness. Indeed, I dwelt in various regions, adored by all the celestials, and possessed of prowess and splendour equal unto those of the celestials themselves. Capable of assuming any form at will, I lived for a million years in the gardens of Nandana sporting with the Apsaras and beholding numberless beautiful trees clad in flowery vesture and sending forth delicious perfume all round. And after many, many years had elapsed, while still residing there in enjoyment of perfect beatitude, the celestial messenger of grim visage, one day, in a loud and deep voice, thrice shouted to me-- Ruined! Ruined! Ruined!--O lion among kings, this much do I remember. I was then fallen from Nandana, my religious merits gone! I heard in the skies, O king, the voices of the celestials exclaiming in grief,--Alas! What a misfortune! Yayati, with his religious merits destroyed, though virtuous and of sacred deeds, is falling!--And as I was falling, I asked them loudly, 'Where, ye celestials, are those wise ones amongst whom I am to fall?' They pointed out to me this sacred sacrificial region belonging to you. Beholding the curls of smoke blackening the atmosphere and smelling the perfume of clarified butter poured incessantly upon fire, and guided thereby, I am approaching this region of yours, glad at heart that I come amongst you."'" SECTION XC (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Ashtaka said, "Capable of assuming any form at will, thou hast lived for a million years in the gardens of Nandana. For what cause, O foremost of those that flourished in the Krita age, hast thou been compelled to leave that region and come hither?" Yayati answered, "As kinsmen, friends, and relatives forsake, in this world, those whose wealth disappears so, in the other world, the celestials with Indra as their chief, forsake him who hath lost his righteousness." Ashtaka said, "I am extremely anxious to know how in the other world men can lose virtue. Tell me also, O king, what regions are attainable by what courses of action. Thou art acquainted, I know, with the acts and sayings of great beings." "'Yayati answered, "O pious one, they that speak of their own merits are doomed to suffer the hell called Bhauma. Though really emaciated and lean, they appear to grow on Earth (in the shape of their sons and grandsons) only to become food for vultures, dogs, and jackals. Therefore, O king, this highly censurable and wicked vice should be repressed. I have now, O king, told thee all. Tell me what more I shall say." "'Ashtaka said, "When life is destroyed with age, vultures, peacocks, insects, and worms eat up the human body. Where doth man then reside? How doth he also come back to life? I have never heard of any hell called Bhauma on Earth!" "'Yayati answered, "After the dissolution of the body, man, according to his acts, re-entereth the womb of his mother and stayeth there in an indistinct form, and soon after assuming a distinct and visible shape reappeareth in the world and walketh on its surface. This is that Earth- hell (Bhauma) where he falleth, for he beholdeth not the termination of his existence and acteth not towards his emancipation. Some dwell for sixty thousand years, some, for eighty thousand years in heaven, and then they fall. And as they fall, they are attacked by certain Rakshasas in the form of sons, grandsons, and other relatives, that withdraw their hearts from acting for their own emancipation." "'Ashtaka asked, "For what sin are beings, when they fall from heaven, attacked by these fierce and sharp-toothed Rakshasas? Why are they not reduced to annihilation? How do they again enter the womb, furnished with senses?" "'Yayati answered, "After falling from heaven, the being becometh a subtile substance living in water. This water becometh the semen whence is the seed of vitality. Thence entering the mother's womb in the womanly season, it developeth into the embryo and next into visible life like the fruit from the flower. Entering trees, plants, and other vegetable substances, water, air, earth, and space, that same watery seed of life assumeth the quadrupedal or bipedal form. This is the case with all creatures that you see." "'Ashtaka said, "O tell me, I ask thee because I have my doubts. Doth a being that hath received a human form enter the womb in its own shape or in some other? How doth it also acquire its distinct and visible shape, eyes and ears and consciousness as well? Questioned by me, O, explain it all! Thou art, O father, one acquainted with the acts and sayings of great beings." Yayati answered, "According to the merits of one's acts, the being that in a subtile form co-inheres in the seed that is dropped into the womb is attracted by the atmospheric force for purposes of re-birth. It then developeth there in course of time; first it becomes the embryo, and is next provided with the visible physical organism. Coming out of the womb in due course of time, it becometh conscious of its existence as man, and with his ears becometh sensible of sound; with his eyes, of colour and form; with his nose, of scent; with his tongue, of taste; by his whole body, of touch; and by his mind, of ideas. It is thus, O Ashtaka, that the gross and visible body developeth from the subtile essence." "'Ashtaka asked, "After death, the body is burnt, or otherwise destroyed. Reduced to nothing upon such dissolution, by what principle is one revived?" Yayati said, "O lion among kings, the person that dies assumes a subtil form; and retaining consciousness of all his acts as in a dream, he enters some other form with a speed quicker than that of air itself. The virtuous attain to a superior, and the vicious to an inferior form of existence. The vicious become worms and insects. I have nothing more to say, O thou of great and pure soul! I have told thee how beings are born, after development of embryonic forms, as four-footed, six-footed creatures and others with more feet. What more wilt thou ask me?" "'Ashtaka said, "How, O father, do men attain to those superior regions whence there is no return to earthly life? Is it by asceticism or by knowledge? How also can one gradually attain to felicitous regions? Asked by me, O answer it in full." "'Yayati answered, "The wise say that for men there are seven gates through which admission may be gained into Heaven. There are asceticism, benevolence, tranquillity of mind, self-command, modesty, simplicity, and kindness to all creatures. The wise also say that a person loseth all these in consequence of vanity. That man who having acquired knowledge regardeth himself as learned, and with his learning destroyed the reputation of others, never attaineth to regions of indestructible felicity. That knowledge also doth not make its possessor competent to attain to Brahma. Study, taciturnity, worship before fire, and sacrifices, these four remove all fear. When, however, these are mixed with vanity, instead of removing it, they cause fear. The wise should never exult at (receiving) honours nor should they grieve at insults. For it is the wise alone that honour the wise; the wicked never act like the virtuous. I have given away so much--I have performed so many sacrifices,--I have studied so much,--I have observed these vows,--such vanity is the root of fear. Therefore, thou must not indulge in such feelings. Those learned men who accept as their support the unchangeable, inconceivable Brahma alone that ever showereth blessings on persons virtuous like thee, enjoy perfect peace here and hereafter."'" SECTION XCI (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Ashtaka said, "Those cognisant of the Vedas differ in opinion as to how the followers of each of the four modes of life, viz., Grihasthas, Bhikshus, Brahmacharins, and Vanaprashthas, should conduct themselves in order to acquire religious merit." "'Yayati answered, "These are what a Brahmacharin must do. While dwelling in the abode of his preceptor, he must receive lessons only when his preceptor summons him to do so; he must attend to the service of his preceptor without waiting for the latter's command; he must rise from his bed before his preceptor riseth, and go to bed after his preceptor hath gone to bed. He must be humble, must have his passions under complete control, must be patient, vigilant, and devoted to studies. It is then only that he can achieve success. It hath been said in the oldest Upanishad that a grihastha, acquiring wealth by honest means, should perform sacrifices; he should always give something in charity, should perform the rites of hospitality unto all arriving at his abode, and should never use anything without giving a portion thereof to others. A Muni, without search for woods, depending on his own vigour, should abstain from all vicious acts, should give away something in charity, should never inflict pain on any creature. It is then only that he can achieve success. He, indeed, is a true Bhikshu who doth not support himself by any manual arts, who possesseth numerous accomplishments, who hath his passions under complete control, who is unconnected with worldly concerns, who sleepeth not under the shelter of a householder's roof, who is without wife, and who going a little way every day, travelleth over a large extent of the country. A learned man should adopt the Vanaprastha mode of life after performance of the necessary rites, when he hath been able to control his appetites for enjoyment and desire of acquiring valuable possessions. When one dieth in the woods while leading the Vanaprastha mode of life, he maketh his ancestors and the successors, numbering ten generations including himself, mix with the Divine essence." "'Ashtaka asked, "How many kinds of Munis are there (observers of the vow of the silence)?" "'Yayati answered, "He is, indeed, a Muni who, though dwelling in the woods, hath an inhabited place near, or who, though dwelling in an inhabited place, hath the woods near." "'Ashtaka enquired what is meant by Muni. Yayati replied, "A Muni withdrawing himself from all worldly objects liveth in the woods. And though he might never seek to surround himself with those objects that are procurable in an inhabited place, he might yet obtain them all by virtue of his ascetic power. He may truly be said to dwell in the woods having an inhabited place near to himself. Again a wise man withdrawn from all earthly objects, might live in a hamlet leading the life of a hermit. He may never exhibit the pride of family, birth or learning. Clad in the scantiest robes, he may yet regard himself as attired in the richest vestments. He may rest content with food just enough for the support of life. Such a person, though dwelling in an inhabited place, liveth yet in the woods. "'"The person again, who, with passions under complete control, adopteth the vow of silence, refraining from action and entertaining no desire, achieveth success. Why shouldst thou not, indeed, reverence the man who liveth on clean food, who refraineth from ever injuring others, whose heart is ever pure, who stands in the splendour of ascetic attributes, who is free from the leaden weight of desire, who abstaineth from injury even when sanctioned by religion? Emaciated by austerities and reduced in flesh, marrow and blood, such a one conquereth not only this but the highest world. And when the Muni sits in yoga meditation, becoming indifferent to happiness and misery, honour and insult, he then leaveth the world and enjoyeth communion with Brahma. When the Muni taketh food like wine and other animals, i. e., without providing for it beforehand and without any relish (like a sleeping infant feeding on the mother's lap), then like the all-pervading spirit he becometh identified with the whole universe and attaineth to salvation."'" SECTION XCII (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Ashtaka asked, "Who amongst these, O king, both exerting constantly like the Sun and the Moon, first attaineth to communion with Brahma, the ascetic or the man of knowledge?" "'Yayati answered, "The wise, with the help of the Vedas and of Knowledge, having ascertained the visible universe to be illusory, instantly realises the Supreme Spirit as the sole existent independent essence. While they that devote themselves to Yoga meditation take time to acquire the same knowledge, for it is by practice alone that these latter divest themselves of the consciousness of quality. Hence the wise attain to salvation first. Then again if the person devoted to Yoga find not sufficient time in one life to attain success, being led astray by the attractions of the world, in his next life he is benefited by the progress already achieved, for he devoteth himself regretfully to the pursuit of success. But the man of knowledge ever beholdeth the indestructible unity, and is, therefore, though steeped in worldly enjoyments, never affected by them at heart. Therefore, there is nothing to impede his salvation. He, however, who faileth to attain to knowledge, should yet devote himself to piety as dependent on action (sacrifices). But he that devoteth himself to such piety, moved thereto by desire of salvation, can never achieve success. His sacrifices bear no fruit and partake of the nature of cruelty. Piety which is dependent on action that proceedeth not from the desire of fruit, is, in case of such men Yoga itself." "'Ashtaka said, "O king, thou lookest like a young man; thou art handsome and decked with a celestial garland. Thy splendour is great! Whence dost thou come and where dost thou go? Whose messenger art thou? Art thou going down into the Earth?" "'Yayati said, "Fallen from heaven upon the loss of all my religious merits, I am doomed to enter the Earth-hell. Indeed, I shall go there after I have finished my discourse with you. Even now the regents of the points of the universe command me to hasten thither. And, O king, I have obtained it as a boon from Indra that though fall I must upon the earth, yet I should fall amidst the wise and the virtuous. Ye are all wise and virtuous that are assembled here." "'Ashtaka said, "Thou art acquainted with everything. I ask thee, O king, are there any regions for myself to enjoy in heaven or in the firmament? If there be, then, thou shalt not fall, though falling." "'Yayati answered, "O king, there are as many regions for thee to enjoy in heaven even as the number of kine and horses on Earth with the animals in the wilderness and on the hills." "'Ashtaka said, "If there are worlds for me to enjoy, as fruits of my religious merits, in heaven, O king, I give them all unto thee. Therefore, though falling, thou shalt not fall. O, take thou soon all those, wherever they be, in heaven or in the firmament. Let thy sorrow cease." "'Yayati answered, "O best of kings, a Brahma-knowing Brahmana alone can take in gift, but not one like ourselves. And, O monarch, I myself have given away to Brahmanas as one should. Let no man who is not a Brahmana and let not the wife of a learned Brahmana ever live in infamy by accepting gifts. While on earth, I ever desired to perform virtuous acts. Having never done so before, how shall I now accept a gift?" "'Pratardana who was amongst them asked, "O thou of the handsomest form, I am Pratardana by name. I ask thee if there are any worlds for me to enjoy as fruits of my religious merits, in heaven or the firmament? Answer me, thou art acquainted with everything." "'Yayati said, "O king, numberless worlds, full of felicity, effulgent like the solar disc, and where woe can never dwell, await thee. If thou dwellest in each but for seven days, they would not yet be exhausted." "'Pratardana said, "These then I give unto thee. Therefore, though falling, thou must not fall. Let the worlds that are mine be thine, whether they be in the firmament or heaven. O, soon take them. Let thy woes cease." "'Yayati answered, "O monarch, no king of equal energy should ever desire to receive as gift the religious merits of another king acquired by Yoga austerities. And no king who is afflicted with calamity through the fates should, if wise, act in a censurable way. A king keeping his eye fixed for ever on virtue should walk along the path of virtue like myself and, knowing what his duties are, should not act so meanly as thou directest. When others desirous of acquiring religious merits do not accept gifts, how can I do what they themselves do not?" On the conclusion of this speech, that best of kings, Yayati, was then addressed by Vasumat in the following words.'" SECTION XCIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Vasumat said, "I am Vasumat, the son of Oshadaswa. I would ask thee, O king, whether there are any worlds for me to enjoy as fruits of my religious merits, in heaven or the firmament. Thou art, O high-souled one, acquainted with all holy regions." "'Yayati answered, "There are as many regions for thee to enjoy in heaven as the number of places in the firmament, the Earth and the ten points of the universe illumined by the Sun." "'Vasumat then said, "I give them to thee. Let those regions that are for me be thine. Therefore, though falling, thou shall not fall. If to accept them as gift be improper for thee, then, O monarch, buy them for a straw?" "'Yayati answered, "I do not remember having ever bought and sold anything unfairly. This has never been done by other kings. How shall I therefore do it?" "'Vasumat said, "If buying them, O king, be regarded by thee as improper, then take them as gift from me. For myself I answer that I will never go to those regions that are for me. Let them, therefore, be thine." "'Sivi then addressed the king thus, "I am, O king, Sivi by name, the son of Usinara. O father, are there in the firmament or in heaven any worlds for me to enjoy? Thou knowest every region that one may enjoy as the fruit of his religious merit." "'Yayati said, "Thou hast never, by speech or in mind, disregarded the honest and the virtuous that applied to thee. There are infinite worlds for thee to enjoy in heaven, all blazing like lightning." Sivi then said, "If thou regardest their purchase as improper, I give them to thee. Take them all, O king! I shall never take them, viz., those regions where the wise never feel the least disquiet." "'Yayati answered, "O Sivi, thou hast indeed, obtained for thyself, possessed of the prowess of Indra, infinite worlds. But I do not desire to enjoy regions given to me by others. Therefore, I accept not thy gift." "'Ashtaka then said, "O king, each of us has expressed his desire to give thee worlds that each of us has acquired by his religious merits. Thou acceptest not them. But leaving them for thee, we shall descend into the Earth-hell." "'Yayati answered, "Ye all are truth-loving and wise. Give me that which I deserve. I shall not be able to do what I have never done before." "'Ashtaka then said, "Whose are those five golden cars that we see? Do men that repair to these regions of everlasting bliss ride in them?" "'Yayati answered, "Those five golden cars displayed in glory, and blazing as fire, would indeed, carry you to regions of bliss." "'Ashtaka said, "O king, ride on those cars thyself and repair to heaven. We can wait. We follow thee in time." "'Yayati said, "We can now all go together. Indeed, all of us have conquered heaven. Behold, the glorious path to heaven becomes visible." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then all those excellent monarchs riding in those cars set out for heaven for gaining admittance into it, illuminating the whole firmament by the glory of their virtues. "'Then Ashtaka, breaking the silence asked, "I had always thought that Indra was my especial friend, and that I, of all others, should first obtain admittance into heaven. But how is it that Usinara's son, Sivi hath already left us behind?" "'Yayati answered, "This Usinara's son had given all he possessed for attaining to the region of Brahman. Therefore is he the foremost among us. Besides, Sivi's liberality, asceticism, truth, virtue, modesty, forgiveness, amiability, desire of performing good acts, have been so great that none can measure them!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After this, Ashtaka, impelled by curiosity, again asked his maternal grandfather resembling Indra himself, saying, "O king, I ask thee, tell me truly, whence thou art, who thou art, and whose son? Is there any other Brahmana or Kshatriya who hath done what thou didst on earth?" Yayati answered, "I tell thee truly, I am Yayati, the son of Nahusha and the father of Puru. I was lord of all the Earth. Ye are my relatives; I tell thee truly, I am the maternal grandfather of you all. Having conquered the whole earth, I gave clothes to Brahmanas and also a hundred handsome horses fit for sacrificial offering. For such acts of virtue, the gods became propitious to those that perform them. I also gave to Brahmanas this whole earth with her horses and elephants and kine and gold, all kinds of wealth, along with a hundred Arbudas of excellent milch cows. Both the earth and the firmament exist owing to my truth and virtue; fire yet burneth in the world of men owing to my truth and virtue. Never hath a word spoken by me been untrue. It is for this that the wise adore Truth. O Ashtaka, all I have told thee, Pratardana, and Vasumat, is Truth itself. I know it for certain that the gods and the Rishis and all the mansions of the blessed are adorable only because of Truth that characteriseth them all. He that will without malice duly read unto good Brahmanas his account of our ascension to heaven shall himself attain to the same worlds with us."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'It was thus that the illustrious king Yayati of high achievements, rescued by his collateral descendants, ascended to heaven, leaving the earth and covering the three worlds with the fame of his deeds.'" SECTION XCIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O adorable one, I desire to hear the histories of those kings who were descended from Puru. O tell me of each as he was possessed of prowess and achievements. I have, indeed, heard that in Puru's line there was not a single one who was wanting in good behaviour and prowess, or who was without sons. O thou of ascetic wealth, I desire to hear the histories in detail of those famous monarchs endued with learning and all accomplishments.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Asked by thee, I shall tell thee all about the heroic kings in Puru's line, all equal unto Indra in prowess, possessing great affluence and commanding the respect of all for their accomplishments. "'Puru had by his wife Paushti three sons, Pravira, Iswara, and Raudraswa, all of whom were mighty car-warriors. Amongst them, Pravira was the perpetuator of the dynasty. Pravira had by his wife Suraseni a son named Manasyu. And the latter of eyes like lotus-petals had his sway over the whole Earth bounded by the four seas. And Manasyu had for his wife Sauviri. And he begat upon her three sons called Sakta, Sahana, and Vagmi. And they were heroes in battle and mighty car-warriors. The intelligent and virtuous Kaudraswa begat upon the Apsara Misrakesi ten sons who were all great bowmen. And they all grew up into heroes, performing numerous sacrifices in honour of the gods. And they all had sons, were learned in all branches of knowledge and ever devoted to virtue. They are Richeyu, and Kaksreyu and Vrikeyu of great prowess; Sthandileyu, and Vaneyu, and Jaleyu of great fame; Tejeyu of great strength and intelligence; and Satyeyu of the prowess of Indra; Dharmeyu, and Sannateyu the tenth of the prowess of the celestials. Amongst them all, Richeyu became the sole monarch of the whole earth and was known by the name of Anadhrishti. And in prowess he was like unto Vasava amongst the celestials. And Anadhristi had a son of the name of Matinara who became a famous and virtuous king and performed the Rajasuya and the horse-sacrifice. And Matinara had four sons of immeasurable prowess, viz., Tansu, Mahan, Atiratha, and Druhyu of immeasurable glory. (Amongst them, Tansu of great prowess became the perpetrator of Puru's line). And he subjugated the whole earth and acquired great fame and splendour. And Tansu begat a son of great prowess named Ilina. And he became the foremost of all conquerors and brought the whole world under his subjection. And Ilina begat upon his wife Rathantara five sons with Dushmanta at their head, all equal in might unto the five elements. They were Dushmanta, Sura, Bhima, Pravasu, and Vasu. And, O Janamejaya, the eldest of them, Dushmanta, became king. And Dushmanta had by his wife Sakuntala an intelligent son named Bharata who became king. And Bharata gave his name to the race of which he was the founder. And it is from him that the fame of that dynasty hath spread so wide. And Bharata begat upon his three wives nine sons in all. But none of them were like their father and so Bharata was not at all pleased with them. Their mothers, therefore, became angry and slew them all. The procreation of children by Bharata, therefore, became vain. The monarch then performed a great sacrifice and through the grace of Bharadwaja obtained a son named Bhumanyu. And then Bharata, the great descendant of Puru, regarding himself as really possessing a son, installed, O foremost one of Bharata's race, that son as his heir-apparent. And Bhumanyu begat upon his wife, Pushkarini, six sons named Suhotra, Suhotri, Suhavih, Sujeya, Diviratha and Kichika. The eldest of them all, Suhotra, obtained the throne and performed many Rajasuyas and horse-sacrifices. And Suhotra brought under his sway the whole earth surrounded by her belt of seas and full of elephants, kine and horses, and all her wealth of gems and gold. And the earth afflicted with the weight of numberless human beings and elephants, horses, and cars, was, as it were, about to sink. And during the virtuous reign of Suhotra the surface of the whole earth was dotted all over with hundreds and thousands of sacrificial stakes. And the lord of the earth, Suhotra, begat, upon his wife Aikshaki three sons, viz., Ajamidha, Sumidha, and Purumidha. The eldest of them, Ajamidha, was the perpetuator of the royal line. And he begat six sons,--Riksha was born of the womb of Dhumini, Dushmanta and Parameshthin, of Nili, and Jahnu, Jala and Rupina were born in that of Kesini. All the tribes of the Panchalas are descended from Dushmanta and Parameshthin. And the Kushikas are the sons of Jahnu of immeasurable prowess. And Riksha who was older than both Jala and Rupina became king. And Riksha begat Samvarana, the perpetuator of the royal line. And, O king, it hath been heard by us that while Samvarana, the son of Riksha, was ruling the earth, there happened a great loss of people from famine, pestilence, drought, and disease. And the Bharata princes were beaten by the troops of enemies. And the Panchalas setting out to invade the whole earth with their four kinds of troops soon brought the whole earth under their sway. And with their ten Akshauhinis the king of the Panchalas defeated the Bharata prince. Samvarana then with his wife and ministers, sons and relatives, fled in fear, and took shelter in the forest on the banks of the Sindhu extending to the foot of the mountains. There the Bharatas lived for a full thousand years, within their fort. And after they had lived there a thousand years, one day the illustrious Rishi Vasishtha approached the exiled Bharatas, who, on going out, saluted the Rishi and worshipped him by the offer of Arghya. And entertaining him with reverence, they represented everything unto that illustrious Rishi. And after he was seated on his seat, the king himself approached the Rishi and addressed him, saying, "Be thou our priest, O illustrious one! We will endeavour to regain our kingdom." And Vasishtha answered the Bharatas by saying, "Om" (the sign of consent). It hath been heard by us that Vasishtha then installed the Bharata prince in the sovereignty of all the Kshatriyas on earth, making by virtue of his Mantras this descendant of Puru the veritable horns of the wild bull or the tusks of the wild elephants. And the king retook the capital that had been taken away from him and once more made all monarchs pay tribute to him. The powerful Samvarana, thus installed once more in the actual sovereignty of the whole earth, performed many sacrifices at which the presents to the Brahmanas were great. "'Samvarana begat upon his wife, Tapati, the daughter of Surya, a son named Kuru. This Kuru was exceedingly virtuous, and therefore, he was installed on the throne by his people. It is after his name that the field called Kuru-jangala has become so famous in the world. Devoted to asceticism, he made that field (Kurukshetra) sacred by practising asceticism there. And it has been heard by us that Kuru's highly intelligent wife, Vahini, brought forth five sons, viz., Avikshit, Bhavishyanta, Chaitraratha, Muni and the celebrated Janamejaya. And Avikshit begat Parikshit the powerful, Savalaswa, Adhiraja, Viraja, Salmali of great physical strength, Uchaihsravas, Bhangakara and Jitari the eighth. In the race of these were born, as the fruit of their pious acts seven mighty car-warriors with Janamejaya at their head. And unto Parikshit were born sons who were all acquainted with (the secrets of) religion and profit. And they were named Kakshasena and Ugrasena, and Chitrasena endued with great energy, and Indrasena and Sushena and Bhimasena. And the sons of Janamejaya were all endued with great strength and became celebrated all over the world. And they were Dhritarashtra who was the eldest, and Pandu and Valhika, and Nishadha endued with great energy, and then the mighty Jamvunada, and then Kundodara and Padati and then Vasati the eighth. And they were all proficient in morality and profit and were kind to all creatures. Among them Dhritarashtra became king. And Dhritarashtra had eight sons, viz., Kundika, Hasti, Vitarka, Kratha the fifth, Havihsravas, Indrabha, and Bhumanyu the invincible, and Dhritarashtra had many grandsons, of whom three only were famous. They were, O king, Pratipa, Dharmanetra, Sunetra. Among these three, Pratipa became unrivalled on earth. And, O bull in Bharata's race, Pratipa begat three sons, viz., Devapi, Santanu, and the mighty car-warrior Valhika. The eldest Devapi adopted the ascetic course of life, impelled thereto by the desire of benefiting his brothers. And the kingdom was obtained by Santanu and the mighty car-warrior Valhika. "'O monarch, besides, there were born in the race of Bharata numberless other excellent monarchs endued with great energy and like unto the celestial Rishis themselves in virtue and ascetic power. And so also in the race of Manu were born many mighty car-warriors like unto the celestials themselves, who by their number swelled the Aila dynasty into gigantic proportions.'" SECTION XCV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O Brahmana, I have now heard from thee this great history of my ancestors. I had also heard from thee about the great monarchs that were born in this line. But I have not been gratified, this charming account being so short. Therefore, be pleased, O Brahmana, to recite the delightful narrative just in detail commencing from Manu, the lord of creation. Who is there that will not be charmed with such an account, as it is sacred? The fame of these monarchs increased by their wisdom, virtue, accomplishments, and high character, hath so swelled as to cover the three worlds. Having listened to the history, sweet as nectar, of their liberality, prowess, physical strength, mental vigour, energy, and perseverance, I have not been satiated!' "Vaisampayana said, 'Hear then, O monarch, as I recite in full the auspicious account of thy own race just as I had heard it from Dwaipayana before. "'Daksha begat Aditi, and Aditi begat Vivaswat, and Vivaswat begat Manu, and Manu begat Ha and Ha begat Pururavas. And Pururavas begat Ayus, and Ayus begat Nahusha, and Nahusha begat Yayati. And Yayati had two wives, viz., Devayani, the daughter of Usanas, and Sarmishtha the daughter of Vrishaparvan. Here occurs a sloka regarding (Yayati's) descendants, "Devayani gave birth to Yadu and Turvasu; and Vrishaparvan's daughter Sarmishtha gave birth to Druhyu, Anu, and Puru." And the descendants of Yadu are the Yadavas and of Puru are the Pauravas. And Puru had a wife of the name of Kausalya, on whom he begat a son named Janamejaya who performed three horse-sacrifices and a sacrifice called Viswajit. And then he entered into the woods. And Janamejaya had married Ananta, the daughter of Madhava, and begat upon her a son called Prachinwat. And the prince was so called because he had conquered all the eastern countries up to the very confines of the region where the Sun rises. And Prachinwat married Asmaki, a daughter of the Yadavas and begat upon her a son named Sanyati. And Sanyati married Varangi, the daughter of Drishadwata and begat upon her a son named Ahayanti. And Ahayanti married Bhanumati, the daughter of Kritavirya and begat upon her a son named Sarvabhauma. And Sarvabhauma married Sunanda, the daughter of the Kekaya prince, having obtained her by force. And he begat upon her a son named Jayatsena, who married Susrava, the daughter of the Vidarbha king and begat upon her Avachina. And Avachina also married another princess of Vidarbha, Maryada by name. And he begat on her a son named Arihan. And Arihan married Angi and begat on her Mahabhauma. And Mahabhauma married Suyajna, the daughter of Prasenajit. And of her was born Ayutanayi. And he was so called because he had performed a sacrifice at which the fat of an Ayuta (ten thousands) of male beings was required. And Ayutanayi took for a wife Kama, the daughter of Prithusravas. And by her was born a son named Akrodhana, who took to wife Karambha, the daughter of the king of Kalinga. And of her was born Devatithi, and Devatithi took for his wife Maryada, the princess of Videha. And of her was born a son named Arihan. And Arihan took to wife Sudeva, the princess of Anga, and upon her he begat a son named Riksha. And Riksha married Jwala, the daughter of Takshaka, and he begat upon her a son of the name of Matinara, who performed on the bank of Saraswati the twelve years' sacrifice said to be so efficacious. On conclusion of the sacrifice, Saraswati appeared in person before the king and chose him for husband. And he begat upon her a son named Tansu. Here occurs a sloka descriptive of Tansu's descendants. "'"Tansu was born of Saraswati by Matinara. And Tansu himself begat a son named Ilina on his wife, the princess Kalingi." "'Ilina begat on his wife Rathantari five sons, of whom Dushmanta was the eldest. And Dushmanta took to wife Sakuntala, the daughter of Viswamitra. And he begat on her a son named Bharata. Here occurs two slokas about (Dushmanta's) descendants. "'"The mother is but the sheath of flesh in which the father begets the son. Indeed the father himself is the son. Therefore, O Dushmanta, support thy son and insult not Sakuntala. O god among men, the father himself becoming the son rescueth himself from hell. Sakuntala hath truly said that thou art the author of this child's being." "'It is for this (i.e., because the king supported his child after hearing the above speech of the celestial messenger) that Sakuntala's son came to be called Bharata (the supported). And Bharata married Sunanda, the daughter of Sarvasena, the king of Kasi, and begat upon her the son named Bhumanyu. And Bhumanyu married Vijaya, the daughter of Dasarha. And he begat upon her a son Suhotra who married Suvarna, the daughter of Ikshvaku. To her was born a son named Hasti who founded this city, which has, therefore, been called Hastinapura. And Hasti married Yasodhara, the princess of Trigarta. And of her was born a son named Vikunthana who took for a wife Sudeva, the princess of Dasarha. And by her was born a son named Ajamidha. And Ajamidha had four wives named Raikeyi, Gandhari, Visala and Riksha. And he begat on them two thousand and four hundred sons. But amongst them all, Samvarana became the perpetuator of the dynasty. And Samvarana took for his wife Tapati, the daughter of Vivaswat. And of her was born Kuru, who married Subhangi, the princess of Dasarha. And he begat on her a son named Viduratha, who took to wife Supriya, the daughter of the Madhavas. And he begat upon her a son named Anaswan. And Anaswan married Amrita, the daughter of the Madhavas. And of her was born a son named Parikshit, who took for his wife Suvasa, the daughter of the Vahudas, and begat upon her a son named Bhimasena. And Bhimasena married Kumari, the princess of Kekaya and begat upon her Pratisravas whose son was Pratipa. And Pratipa married Sunanda, the daughter of Sivi, and begat upon her three sons, viz., Devapi, Santanu and Valhika. And Devapi, while still a boy, entered the woods as a hermit. And Santanu became king. Here occurs a sloka in respect of Santanu. "'"Those old men that were touched by this monarch not only felt an indescribable sensation of pleasure but also became restored to youth. Therefore, this monarch was called Santanu." "'And Santanu married Ganga, who bore him a son Devavrata who was afterwards called Bhishma. And Bhishma, moved by the desire of doing good to his father, got him married to Satyavati who was also called Gandhakali. And in her maidenhood she had a son by Parasara, named Dwaipayana. And upon her Santanu begat two other sons named Chitrangada and Vichitravirya. And before they attained to majority, Chitrangada had been slain by the Gandharvas. But Vichitravirya became king, and married the two daughters of the king of Kasi, named Amvika and Amvalika. But Vichitravirya died childless. Then Satyavati began to think as to how the dynasty of Dushmanta might be perpetuated. Then she recollected the Rishi Dwaipayana. The latter coming before her, asked, "What are thy commands?" She said, "Thy brother Vichitravirya hath gone to heaven childless. Beget virtuous children for him." Dwaipayana, consenting to this, begat three children, viz., Dhritarashtra, Pandu, and Vidura. King Dhritarashtra had a hundred sons by his wife, Gandhari, in consequence of the boon granted by Dwaipayana. And amongst those hundred sons of Dhritarashtra, four became celebrated. They are Duryodhana, Duhsasana, Vikarna, and Chitrasena. And Pandu had two jewels of wives, viz., Kunti, also called Pritha, and Madri. One day Pandu, while out a-hunting, saw a deer covering its mate. That was really a Rishi in the form of a deer. Seeing the deer in that attitude, he killed it with his arrows, before its desire was gratified. Pierced with the king's arrow, the deer quickly changed its form and became a Rishi, and said unto Pandu, "O Pandu, thou art virtuous and acquainted also with the pleasure derived from the gratification of one's desire. My desire unsatisfied, thou hast slain me! Therefore, thou also, when so engaged and before thou art gratified, shalt die!" Pandu, hearing this curse, became pale, and from that time would not go in unto his wives. And he told them these words, "Through my own fault, I have been cursed! But I have heard that for the childless there are no regions hereafter." Therefore, he solicited Kunti to have offspring raised for him. And Kunti said, "Let it be." So she raised up offspring. By Dharma she had Yudhishthira; by Maruta, Bhima: and by Sakra, Arjuna. And Pandu, well-pleased with her, said, "This thy co-wife is also childless. Therefore, cause her also to bear children." Kunti saying, "So be it," imparted unto Madri the mantra of invocation. And on Madri were raised by the twin Aswins, the twins Nakula and Sahadeva. And (one day) Pandu, beholding Madri decked with ornaments, had his desire kindled. And, as soon as he touched her, he died. Madri ascended the funeral pyre with her lord. And she said unto Kunti, "Let these twins of mine be brought up by thee with affection." After some time those five Pandavas were taken by the ascetics of the woods to Hastinapura and there introduced to Bhishma and Vidura. And after introducing them, the ascetics disappeared in the very sight of all. And after the conclusion of the speech of those ascetics, flowers were showered down upon the spot, and the celestial drums also were beaten in the skies. The Pandavas were then taken (by Bhishma). They then represented the death of their father and performed his last honours duly. And as they were brought up there, Duryodhana became exceedingly jealous of them. And the sinful Duryodhana acting like Rakshasa tried various means to drive them away. But what must be can never be frustrated. So all Duryodhana's efforts proved futile. Then Dhritarashtra sent them, by an act of deception to Varanavata, and they went there willingly. There an endeavour was made to burn them to death; but it proved abortive owing to the warning counsels of Vidura. After that the Pandavas slew Hidimva, and then they went to a town called Ekachakra. There also they slew a Rakshasa of the name of Vaka and then went to Panchala. And there obtaining Draupadi for a wife they returned to Hastinapura. And there they dwelt for some time in peace and begat children. And Yudhishthira begat Prativindhya; Bhima, Sutasoma; Arjuna, Srutakriti; Nakula, Satanika; and Sahadeva, Srutakarman. Besides these, Yudhishthira, having obtained for his wife Devika, the daughter of Govasana of the Saivya tribe, in a self-choice ceremony, begat upon her a son named Yaudheya. And Bhima also obtaining for a wife Valandhara, the daughter of the king of Kasi, offered his own prowess as dower and begat upon her a son named Sarvaga. And Arjuna also, repairing to Dwaravati, brought away by force Subhadra, the sweet-speeched sister of Vasudeva, and returned in happiness to Hastinapura. And he begat upon her a son named Abhimanyu endued with all accomplishments and dear to Vasudeva himself. And Nakula obtaining for his wife Karenumati, the princess of Chedi, begat upon her a son named Niramitra. And Sahadeva also married Vijaya, the daughter of Dyutimat, the king of Madra, obtaining her in a self-choice ceremony and begat upon her a son named Suhotra. And Bhimasena had some time before begat upon Hidimva a son named Ghatotkacha. These are the eleven sons of the Pandavas. Amongst them all, Abhimanyu was the perpetuator of the family. He married Uttara, the daughter of Virata, who brought forth a dead child whom Kunti took up on her lap at the command of Vasudeva who said, "I will revive this child of six months." And though born before time, having been burnt by the fire of Aswatthaman's weapon and, therefore, deprived of strength and energy he was revived by Vasudeva and endued with strength, energy and prowess. And after reviving him, Vasudeva said, "Because this child hath been born in an extinct race, therefore, he shall be called Parikshit." And Parikshit married Madravati, thy mother, O king, and thou art born to her, O Janamejaya! Thou hast also begotten two sons on thy wife Vapushtama, named Satanika and Sankukarna. And Satanika also hath begotten one son named Aswamedhadatta upon the princess of Videha. "'Thus have I, O king, recited the history of the descendants of Puru and of the Pandavas. This excellent, virtue-increasing, and sacred history should ever be listened to by vow-observing Brahmanas, by Kshatriyas devoted to the practices of their order and ready to protect their subjects; by Vaisyas with attention, and by Sudras with reverence, whose chief occupation is to wait upon the three other orders. Brahmanas conversant in the Vedas and other persons, who with attention and reverence recite this sacred history or listen to it when recited, conquer the heavens and attain to the abode of the blessed. They are also always respected and adored by the gods, Brahamanas, and other men. This holy history of Bharata hath been composed by the sacred and illustrious Vyasa. Veda-knowing Brahmanas and other persons who with reverence and without malice hear it recited, earn great religious merits and conquer the heavens. Though sinning, they are not disregarded by any one. Here occurs a sloka, "This (Bharata) is equal unto the Vedas: it is holy and excellent. It bestoweth wealth, fame, and life. Therefore, it should be listened to by men with rapt attention."'" SECTION XCVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'There was a king known by the name of Mahabhisha born in the race of Ikshvaku. He was the lord of all the earth, and was truthful (in speech) and of true prowess. By a thousand horse-sacrifices and a hundred Rajasuyas he had gratified the chief of the celestials and ultimately attained to heaven. "'One day the celestials had assembled together and were worshipping Brahman. Many royal sages and king Mahabhisha also were present on the spot. And Ganga, the queen of rivers, also came there to pay her adorations to the Grandsire. And her garments white as the beams of the moon was displaced by the action of the wind. And as her person became exposed, the celestials bent down their heads. But the royal sage Mahabhisha rudely stared at the queen of rivers. And Mahabhisha was for this cursed by Brahman, who said, "Wretch, as thou hast forgotten thyself at the sight of Ganga, thou shalt be re-born on earth. But thou shall again and again attain to these regions. And she, too, shall be born in the world of men and shall do thee injuries. But when thy wrath shall be provoked, thou shalt then be freed from my curse."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'King Mahabhisha then recollecting all the monarchs and ascetics on earth, wished to be born as son to Pratipa of great prowess. And the queen of rivers, too, seeing king Mahabhisha lose his firmness, went away, thinking of him wishfully. And on her way, she saw those dwellers in heaven, the Vasus, also pursuing the same path. And the queen of rivers beholding them in the predicament, asked them, "Why look ye so dejected? Ye dwellers in heaven, is everything right with you?" Those celestials, the Vasus, answered her, saying, "O queen of rivers, we have been cursed, for a venial fault, by the illustrious Vasishtha in anger. The foremost of excellent Rishis, Vasishtha, had been engaged in his twilight adorations and seated as he was, he could not be seen by us. We crossed him in ignorance. Therefore, in wrath he hath cursed us, saying, 'Be ye born among men!' It is beyond our power to frustrate what hath been said by that utterance of Brahma. Therefore, O river, thyself becoming a human female make us the Vasus, thy children. O amiable one, we are unwilling to enter the womb of any human female." Thus addressed, the queen of rivers told them, "Be it so" and asked them, "On earth, who is that foremost of men whom ye will make your father?" "'The Vasus replied, "On earth, unto Pratipa shall be born a son, Santanu, who will be a king of world-wide fame." Ganga then said, "Ye celestials, that is exactly my wish which ye sinless ones have expressed. I shall, indeed, do good to that Santanu. That is also your desire as just expressed." The Vasus then said, "It behoveth thee to throw thy children after birth, into the water, so that, O thou of three courses (celestial, terrestrial, and subterranean) we may be rescued soon without having to live on earth for any length of time." Ganga then answered, "I shall do what ye desire. But in order that his intercourse with me may not be entirely fruitless, provide ye that one son at least may live." The Vasus then replied, "We shall each contribute an eighth part of our respective energies. With the sum thereof, thou shall have one son according to thy and his wishes. But this son shall not begat any children on earth. Therefore, that son of thine endued with great energy, shall be childless." "'The Vasus, making this arrangement with Ganga, went away without waiting to the place they liked.'" SECTION XCVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said. 'There was a king of the name of Pratipa, who was kind to all creatures. He spent many years in ascetic penances at the source of the river Ganga. The accomplished and lovely Ganga, one day, assuming the form of a beautiful female, and rising from the waters, made up to the monarch. The celestial maiden, endued with ravishing beauty, approached the royal sage engaged in ascetic austerities, and sat upon his right thigh that was, for manly strength, a veritable Sala tree. When the maiden of handsome face had so sat upon his lap, the monarch said unto her, "O amiable one, what dost thou desire? What shall I do?" The damsel answered, "I desire thee, O king, for my husband! O foremost one of the Kurus, be mine! To refuse a woman coming of her own accord is never applauded by the wise." Pratipa answered, "O thou of the fairest complexion, moved by lust, I never go in unto others' wives or women that are not of my order. This, indeed, is my virtuous vow." The maiden rejoined, "I am not inauspicious or ugly. I am every way worthy of being enjoyed. I am a celestial maiden of rare beauty; I desire thee for my husband. Refuse me not, O king." To this Pratipa answered, "I am, O damsel, abstaining from that course to which thou wouldst incite me. If I break my vow, sin will overwhelm and kill me. O thou of the fairest complexion, thou hast embraced me, sitting on my right thigh. But, O timid one, know that this is the seat for daughters and daughters-in-law. The left lap is for the wife, but thou hast not accepted that. Therefore, O best of women, I cannot enjoy thee as an object of desire. Be my daughter-in-law. I accept thee for my son!" "'The damsel then said, "O virtuous one, let it be as thou sayest. Let me be united with thy son. From my respect for thee, I shall be a wife of the celebrated Bharata race. Ye (of the Bharata race) are the refuge of all the monarchs on earth! I am incapable of numbering the virtues of this race even within a hundred years. The greatness and goodness of many celebrated monarchs of this race are limitless. O lord of all, let it be understood now that when I become thy daughter-in-law, thy son shall not be able to judge of the propriety of my acts. Living thus with thy son, I shall do good to him and increase his happiness. And he shall finally attain to heaven in consequence of the sons I shall bear him, and of his virtues and good conduct."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O king, having said so, the celestial damsel disappeared then and there. And the king, too, waited for the birth of his son in order to fulfil his promise. "'About this time Pratipa, that light of the Kuru race, that bull amongst Kshatriyas, was engaged, along with his wife, in austerities from desire of offspring. And when they had grown old, a son was born unto them. This was no other than Mahabhisha. And the child was called Santanu because he was born when his father had controlled his passions by ascetic penances. And the best of Kurus, Santanu, knowing that region of indestructible bliss can be acquired by one's deeds alone, became devoted to virtue. When Santanu grew up into a youth, Pratipa addressed him and said, "Some time ago, O Santanu, a celestial damsel came to me for thy good. If thou meetest that fair-complexioned one in secret and if she solicit thee for children, accept her as thy wife. And, O sinless one, judge not of the propriety or impropriety of her action and ask not who she is, or whose or whence, but accept her as thy wife at my command!"' Vaisampayana continued, "Pratipa, having thus commanded his son Santanu and installed him on his throne, retired into the woods. And king Santanu endued with great intelligence and equal unto Indra himself in splendour, became addicted to hunting and passed much of his time in the woods. And the best of monarchs always slew deer and buffaloes. And one day, as he was wandering along the bank of the Ganges, he came upon a region frequented by Siddhas and Charanas. And there he saw a lovely maiden of blazing beauty and like unto another Sri herself; of faultless and pearly teeth and decked with celestial ornaments, and attired in garments of fine texture that resembled in splendour the filaments of the lotus. And the monarch, on beholding that damsel, became surprised, and his raptures produced instant horripilation. With steadfast gaze he seemed to be drinking her charms, but repeated draughts failed to quench his thirst. The damsel also beholding the monarch of blazing splendour moving about in great agitation, was moved herself and experienced an affection for him. She gazed and gazed and longed to gaze on him evermore. The monarch then in soft words addressed her and said, "O slender-waisted one, be thou a goddess or the daughter of a Danava, be thou of the race of the Gandharvas, or Apsaras, be thou of the Yakshas or the Nagas, or be thou of human origin, O thou of celestial beauty, I solicit thee to be my wife!"'" SECTION XCVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The maiden then, hearing those soft and sweet words of the smiling monarch, and remembering her promise to the Vasus, addressed the king in reply. Of faultless features, the damsel sending a thrill of pleasure into the heart by every word she uttered, said, "O king, I shall become thy wife and obey thy commands. But, O monarch, thou must not interfere with me in anything I do, be it agreeable or disagreeable. Nor shall thou ever address me unkindly. As long as thou shalt behave kindly I promise to live with thee. But I shall certainly leave thee the moment thou interferest with me or speakest to me an unkind word." The king answered, "Be it so." And thereupon the damsel obtaining that excellent monarch, that foremost one of the Bharata race for her husband, became highly pleased. And king Santanu also, obtaining her for his wife, enjoyed to the full the pleasure of her company. And adhering to his promise, he refrained from asking her anything. And the lord of earth, Santanu, became exceedingly gratified with her conduct, beauty, magnanimity, and attention to his comforts. And the goddess Ganga also, of three courses (celestial, terrestrial, and subterranean) assuming a human form of superior complexion and endued with celestial beauty, lived happily as the wife of Santanu, having as the fruit of her virtuous acts, obtained for her husband, that tiger among kings equal unto Indra himself in splendour. And she gratified the king by her attractiveness and affection, by her wiles and love, by her music and dance, and became herself gratified. And the monarch was so enraptured with his beautiful wife that months, seasons, and years rolled on without his being conscious of them. And the king, while thus enjoying himself with his wife, had eight children born unto him who in beauty were like the very celestials themselves. But, O Bharata, those children, one after another, as soon as they were born, were thrown into the river by Ganga who said, "This is for thy good." And the children sank to rise no more. The king, however, could not be pleased with such conduct. But he spoke not a word about it lest his wife should leave him. But when the eighth child was born, and when his wife as before was about to throw it smilingly into the river, the king with a sorrowful countenance and desirous of saving it from destruction, addressed her and said, "Kill it not! Who art thou and whose? Why dost thou kill thy own children? Murderess of thy sons, the load of thy sins is great!" His wife, thus addressed, replied, "O thou desirous of offspring, thou hast already become the first of those that have children. I shall not destroy this child of thine. But according to our agreement, the period of my stay with thee is at an end. I am Ganga, the daughter of Jahnu. I am ever worshipped by the great sages; I have lived with thee so long for accomplishing the purposes of the celestials. The eight illustrious Vasus endued with great energy had, from Vasishtha's curse, to assume human forms. On earth, besides thee, there was none else to deserve the honour of being their begetter. There is no woman also on earth except one like me, a celestial of human form, to become their mother. I assumed a human form to bring them forth. Thou also, having become the father of the eight Vasus, hast acquired many regions of perennial bliss. It was also agreed between myself and the Vasus that I should free them from their human forms as soon as they would be born. I have thus freed them from the curse of the Rishi Apava. Blest be thou; I leave thee, O king! But rear thou this child of rigid vows. That I should live with thee so long was the promise I gave to the Vasus. And let this child be called Gangadatta."'" SECTION XCIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Santanu asked, "What was the fault of the Vasus and who was Apava, through whose curse the Vasus had to be born among men? What also hath this child of thine, Gangadatta, done for which he shall have to live among men? Why also were the Vasus, the lords of the three worlds, condemned to be born amongst men? O daughter of Jahnu, tell me all."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, the celestial daughter of Jahnu, Ganga, then replied unto the monarch, her husband, that bull amongst men, saying, "O best of Bharata's race, he who was obtained as son by Varuna was called Vasishtha, the Muni who afterwards came to be known as Apava. He had his asylum on the breast of the king of mountains called Meru. The spot was sacred and abounded with birds and beasts. And there bloomed at all times of the year flowers of every season. And, O best of Bharata's race, that foremost of virtuous men, the son of Varuna, practised his ascetic penances in those woods abounding with sweet roots and water. "'"Daksha had a daughter known by the name of Surabhi, who, O bull of Bharata's race, for benefiting the world, brought forth, by her connection with Kasyapa, a daughter (Nandini) in the form of a cow. That foremost of all kine, Nandini, was the cow of plenty (capable of granting every desire). The virtuous son of Varuna obtained Nandini for his Homa rites. And Nandini, dwelling in that hermitage which was adored by Munis, roamed about fearlessly in those sacred and delightful woods. "'"One day, O bull of Bharata's race, there came into those woods adored by the gods and celestial Rishis, the Vasus with Prithu at their head. And wandering there with their wives, they enjoyed themselves in those delightful woods and mountains. And as they wandered there, the slender- waisted wife of one of the Vasus, O thou of the prowess of Indra, saw in those woods Nandini, the cow of plenty. And seeing that cow possessing the wealth of all accomplishments, large eyes, full udders, fine tail, beautiful hoofs, and every other auspicious sign, and yielding much milk, she showed the animal to her husband Dyu. O thou of the prowess of the first of elephants, when Dyu was shown that cow, he began to admire her several qualities and addressing his wife, said, 'O black-eyed girl of fair thighs, this excellent cow belongeth to that Rishi whose is this delightful asylum. O slender-waisted one, that mortal who drinketh the sweet milk of this cow remaineth in unchanged youth for ten thousand years.' O best of monarchs, hearing this, the slender-waisted goddess of faultless features then addressed her lord of blazing splendour and said, 'There is on earth a friend of mine, Jitavati by name, possessed of great beauty and youth. She is the daughter of that god among men, the royal sage Usinara, endued with intelligence and devoted to truth. I desire to have this cow, O illustrious one, with her calf for that friend of mine. Therefore, O best of celestials, bring that cow so that my friend drinking of her milk may alone become on earth free from disease and decrepitude. O illustrious and blameless one, it behoveth thee to grant me this desire of mine. There is nothing that would be more agreeable to me.' On hearing these words of his wife, Dyu, moved by the desire of humouring her, stole that cow, aided by his brothers Prithu and the others. Indeed, Dyu, commanded by his lotus-eyed wife, did her bidding, forgetting at the moment the high ascetic merits of the Rishi who owned her. He did not think at the time that he was going to fall by committing the sin of stealing the cow. "'"When the son of Varuna returned to his asylum in the evening with fruits he had collected, he beheld not the cow with her calf there. He began to search for them in the woods, but when the great ascetic of superior intelligence found not his cow on search, he saw by his ascetic vision that she had been stolen by the Vasus. His wrath was instantly kindled and he cursed the Vasus, saying, 'Because the Vasus have stolen my cow of sweet milk and handsome tail, therefore, shall they certainly be born on earth!' "'"O thou bull of Bharata's race, the illustrious Rishi Apava thus cursed the Vasus in wrath. And having cursed them, the illustrious one set his heart once more on ascetic meditation. And after that Brahmarshi of great power and ascetic wealth had thus in wrath cursed the Vasus, the latter, O king, coming to know of it, speedily came into his asylum. And addressing the Rishi, O bull among kings, they endeavoured to pacify him. But they failed, O tiger among men, to obtain grace from Apava--that Rishi conversant, with all rules of virtue. The virtuous Apava, however, said, 'Ye Vasus, with Dhava and others, ye have been cursed by me. But ye shall be freed from my curse within a year of your birth among men. But he for whose deed ye have been cursed by me he, viz., Dyu, shall for his sinful act, have to dwell on earth for a length of time. I shall not make futile the words I have uttered in wrath. Dyu, though dwelling on Earth, shall not beget children. He shall, however, be virtuous and conversant with the scriptures. He shall be an obedient son to his father, but he shall have to abstain from the pleasure of female companionship.' "'"Thus addressing the Vasus, the great Rishi went away. The Vasus then together came to me. And, O king, they begged of me the boon that as soon as they would be born, I should throw them into the water. And, O best of kings, I did as they desired, in order to free them from their earthly life. And O best of kings, from the Rishi's curse, this one only, viz., Dyu, himself, is to live on earth for some time."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said this, the goddess disappeared then and there. And taking with her the child, she went away to the region she chose. And that child of Santanu was named both Gangeya and Devavrata and excelled his father in all accomplishments. "'Santanu, after the disappearance of his wife, returned to his capital with a sorrowful heart. I shall now recount to thee the many virtues and the great good fortune of the illustrious king Santanu of the Bharata race. Indeed, it is this splendid history that is called the Mahabharata.'" SECTION C (Sambhava Parva continued ) "Vaisampayana said, 'The monarch Santanu, the most adored of the gods and royal sages, was known in all the worlds for his wisdom, virtues, and truthfulness (of speech). The qualities of self-control, liberality, forgiveness, intelligence, modesty, patience and superior energy ever dwelt in that bull among men, viz., Santanu, that great being endued with these accomplishments and conversant with both religion and profit, the monarch was at once the protector of the Bharata race and all human beings. His neck was marked with (three) lines, like a conch-shell; his shoulders were broad, and he resembled in prowess an infuriated elephant. It would seem that all the auspicious signs of royalty dwelt in his person, considering that to be their fittest abode. Men, seeing the behaviour of that monarch of great achievements came to know that virtue was ever superior to pleasure and profit. These were the attributes that dwelt in that great being--that bull among men--Santanu. And truly there was never a king like Santanu. All the kings of the earth, beholding him devoted to virtue, bestowed upon that foremost of virtuous men the title of King of kings. And all the kings of the earth during the time of that lord- protector of the Bharata race, were without woe and fear and anxiety of any kind. And they all slept in peace, rising from bed every morning after happy dreams. And owing to that monarch of splendid achievements resembling Indra himself in energy, all the kings of the earth became virtuous and devoted to liberality, religious acts and sacrifices. And when the earth was ruled by Santanu and other monarchs like him, the religious merits of every order increased very greatly. The Kshatriyas served the Brahmanas; the Vaisyas waited upon the Kshatriyas, and the Sudras adoring the Brahmanas and the Kshatriyas, waited upon the Vaisyas. And Santanu residing in Hastinapura, the delightful capital of the Kurus, ruled the whole earth bounded by seas. He was truthful and guileless, and like the king of the celestials himself conversant with the dictates of virtue. And from the combination in him of liberality, religion and asceticism, he acquired a great good fortune. He was free from anger and malice, and was handsome in person like Soma himself. In splendour he was like the Sun and in impetuosity of valour like Vayu. In wrath he was like Yama, and in patience like the Earth. And, O king, while Santanu ruled the earth, no deer, boars, birds, or other animals were needlessly slain. In his dominions the great virtue of kindness to all creatures prevailed, and the king himself, with the soul of mercy, and void of desire and wrath, extended equal protection unto all creatures. Then sacrifices in honour of the gods, the Rishis, and Pitris commenced, and no creature was deprived of life sinfully. And Santanu was the king and father of all--of those that were miserable and those that had no protectors, of birds and beasts, in fact, of every created thing. And during the rule of the best of Kurus-- of that king of kings--speech became united with truth, and the minds of men were directed towards liberality and virtue. And Santanu, having enjoyed domestic felicity for six and thirty years, retired into the woods. "'And Santanu's son, the Vasu born of Ganga, named Devavrata resembled Santanu himself in personal beauty, in habits and behaviour, and in learning. And in all branches of knowledge worldly or spiritual his skill was very great. His strength and energy were extraordinary. He became a mighty car-warrior. In fact he was a great king. "'One day, while pursuing along the banks of the Ganges a deer that he had struck with his arrow, king Santanu observed that the river had become shallow. On observing this, that bull among men, viz., Santanu, began to reflect upon this strange phenomenon. He mentally asked why that first of rivers ran out so quickly as before. And while seeking for a cause, the illustrious monarch beheld that a youth of great comeliness, well-built and amiable person, like Indra himself, had, by his keen celestial weapon, checked the flow of the river. And the king, beholding this extraordinary feat of the river Ganga having been checked in her course near where that youth stood, became very much surprised. This youth was no other than Santanu's son himself. But as Santanu had seen his son only once a few moments after his birth, he had not sufficient recollection to identify that infant with the youth before his eyes. The youth, however, seeing his father, knew him at once, but instead of disclosing himself, he clouded the king's perception by his celestial powers of illusion and disappeared in his very sight. "'King Santanu, wondering much at what he saw and imagining the youth to be his own son then addressed Ganga and said, "Show me that child." Ganga thus addressed, assuming a beautiful form, and holding the boy decked with ornaments in her right arm, showed him to Santanu. And Santanu did not recognise that beautiful female bedecked with ornaments and attired in fine robes of white, although he had known her before. And Ganga said, "O tiger among men, that eighth son whom thou hadst some time before begat upon me is this. Know that this excellent child is conversant with all weapons. O monarch, take him now. I have reared him with care. And go home, O tiger among men, taking him with thee. Endued with superior intelligence, he has studied with Vasishtha the entire Vedas with their branches. Skilled in all weapons and a mighty bowman, he is like Indra in battle. And, O Bharata, both the gods and the Asuras look upon him with favour. Whatever branches of knowledge are known to Usanas, this one knoweth completely. And so is he the master of all those Sastras that the son of Angiras (Vrihaspati) adored by the gods and the Asuras, knoweth. And all the weapons known to the powerful and invincible Rama, the son of Jamadagni are known to this thy son of mighty arms. O king of superior courage, take this thy own heroic child given unto thee by me. He is a mighty bowman and conversant with the interpretation of all treatises on the duties of a king." Thus commanded by Ganga, Santanu took his child resembling the Sun himself in glory and returned to his capital. And having reached his city that was like unto the celestial capital, that monarch of Puru's line regarded himself greatly fortunate. And having summoned all the Pauravas together, for the protection of his kingdom he installed his son as his heir-apparent. And O bull of Bharata's race, the prince soon gratified by his behaviour his father and the other members of the Paurava race: in fact, all the subjects of the kingdom. And the king of incomparable prowess lived happily with that son of his. "'Four years had thus passed away, when the king one day went into the woods on the bank of the Yamuna. And while the king was rambling there, he perceived a sweet scent coming from an unknown direction. And the monarch, impelled by the desire of ascertaining the cause, wandered hither and thither. And in course of his ramble, he beheld a black-eyed maiden of celestial beauty, the daughter of a fisherman. The king addressing her, said, "Who art thou, and whose daughter? What dost thou do here, O timid one?" She answered, "Blest be thou! I am the daughter of the chief of the fishermen. At his command, I am engaged for religious merit, in rowing passengers across this river in my boat." And Santanu, beholding that maiden of celestial form endued with beauty, amiableness, and such fragrance, desired her for his wife. And repairing unto her father, the king solicited his consent to the proposed match. But the chief of the fishermen replied to the monarch, saying, "O king, as soon as my daughter of superior complexion was born, it was of course, understood that she should be bestowed upon a husband. But listen to the desire I have cherished all along in my heart. O sinless one, thou art truthful: if thou desirest to obtain this maiden as a gift from me, give me then this pledge. If, indeed, thou givest the pledge, I will of course bestow my daughter upon thee for truly I can never obtain a husband for her equal to thee." "'Santanu, hearing this, replied, "When I have heard of the pledge thou askest, I shall then say whether I would be able to grant it. If it is capable of being granted, I shall certainly grant it. Otherwise how shall I grant it." The fisherman said, "O king, what I ask of thee is this: the son born of this maiden shall be installed by thee on thy throne and none else shall thou make thy successor."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O Bharata, when Santanu heard this, he felt no inclination to grant such a boon, though the fire of desire sorely burnt him within. The king with his heart afflicted by desire returned to Hastinapura, thinking all the way of the fisherman's daughter. And having returned home, the monarch passed his time in sorrowful meditation. One day, Devavrata approaching his afflicted father said, "All is prosperity with thee; all chiefs obey thee; then how is it that thou grievest thus? Absorbed in thy own thoughts, thou speakest not a word to me in reply. Thou goest not out on horse-back now; thou lookest pale and emaciated, having lost all animation. I wish to know the disease thou sufferest from, so that I may endeavour to apply a remedy." Thus addressed by his son, Santanu answered, "Thou sayest truly, O son, that I have become melancholy. I will also tell thee why I am so. O thou of Bharata's line, thou art the only scion of this our large race. Thou art always engaged in sports of arms and achievements of prowess. But, O son, I am always thinking of the instability of human life. If any danger overtake thee, O child of Ganga, the result is that we become sonless. Truly thou alone art to me as a century of sons. I do not, therefore, desire to wed again. I only desire and pray that prosperity may ever attend thee so that our dynasty may be perpetuated. The wise say that he that hath one son hath no son. Sacrifices before fire and the knowledge of the three Vedas yield, it is true, everlasting religious merit, but all these, in point of religious merit, do not come up to a sixteenth part of the religious merit attainable on the birth of a son. Indeed, in this respect, there is hardly any difference between men and the lower animals. O wise one, I do not entertain a shadow of doubt that one attains to heaven in consequence of his having begotten a son. The Vedas which constitute the root of the Puranas and are regarded as authoritative even by the gods, contain numerous proof of this. O thou of Bharata's race, thou art a hero of excitable temper, who is always engaged in the exercise of arms. It is very probable that thou wilt be slain on the field of battle. If it so happen, what then will be the state of the Bharata dynasty? It is this thought that hath made me so melancholy. I have now told thee fully the causes of my sorrow."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Devavrata who was endued with great intelligence, having ascertained all this from the king, reflected within himself for a while. He then went to the old minister devoted to his father's welfare and asked him about the cause of the king's grief. O bull of Bharata's race, when the prince questioned the minister, the latter told him about the boon that was demanded by the chief of the fishermen in respect of his daughter Gandhavati. Then Devavrata, accompanied by many Kshatriya chiefs of venerable age, personally repaired to the chief of the fishermen and begged of him his daughter on behalf of the king. The chief of the fishermen received him with due adorations, and, O thou of Bharata's race, when the prince took his seat in the court of the chief, the latter addressed him and said, "O bull among the Bharatas, thou art the first of all wielders of weapons and the only son of Santanu. Thy power is great. But I have something to tell thee. If the bride's father was Indra himself, even then he would have to repent of rejecting such an exceedingly honourable and desirable proposal of marriage. The great man of whose seed this celebrated maiden named Satyavati was born, is, indeed, equal to you in virtue. He hath spoken to me on many occasions of the virtues of thy father and told me that, the king alone is worthy of (marrying) Satyavati. Let me tell you that I have even rejected the solicitations of that best of Brahmarshis--the celestial sage Asita--who, too, had often asked for Satyavati's hand in marriage. I have only one word to say on the part of this maiden. In the matter of the proposed marriage there is one great objection founded on the fact of a rival in the person of a co-wife's son. O oppressor of all foes, he hath no security, even if he be an Asura or a Gandharva, who hath a rival in thee. There is this only objection to the proposed marriage, and nothing else. Blest be thou! But this is all I have to say in the matter of the bestowal or otherwise, of Satyavati."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O thou of Bharata's race, Devavrata, having heard these words, and moved by the desire of benefiting his father thus answered in the hearing of the assembled chiefs, "O foremost of truthful men, listen to the vow I utter! The man has not been or will not be born, who will have the courage to take such a vow! I shall accomplish all that thou demandest! The son that may be born of this maiden shall be our king." Thus addressed, the chief of the fishermen, impelled by desire of sovereignty (for his daughter's son), to achieve the almost impossible, then said, "O thou of virtuous soul, thou art come hither as full agent on behalf of thy father Santanu of immeasurable glory; be thou also the sole manager on my behalf in the matter of the bestowal of this my daughter. But, O amiable one, there is something else to be said, something else to be reflected upon by thee. O suppressor of foes, those that have daughters, from the very nature of their obligations, must say what I say. O thou that art devoted to truth, the promise thou hast given in the presence of these chiefs for the benefit of Satyavati, hath, indeed, been worthy of thee. O thou of mighty arms, I have not the least doubt of its ever being violated by thee. But I have my doubts in respect of the children thou mayst beget."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O king, the son of Ganga, devoted to truth, having ascertained the scruples of the chief of the fishermen, then said, moved thereto by the desire of benefiting his father, "Chief of fishermen, thou best of men, listen to what I say in the presence of these assembled kings. Ye kings, I have already relinquished my right to the throne, I shall now settle the matter of my children. O fisherman, from this day I adopt the vow of Brahmacharya (study and meditation in celibacy). If I die sonless, I shall yet attain to regions of perennial bliss in heaven!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Upon these words of the son of Ganga, the hair on the fisherman's body stood on end from glee, and he replied, "I bestow my daughter!" Immediately after, the Apsaras and the gods with diverse tribes of Rishis began to rain down flowers from the firmament upon the head of Devavrata and exclaimed, "This one is Bhishma (the terrible)." Bhishma then, to serve his father, addressed the illustrious damsel and said, "O mother, ascend this chariot, and let us go unto our house."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said this, Bhishma helped the beautiful maiden into his chariot. On arriving with her at Hastinapura, he told Santanu everything as it had happened. And the assembled kings, jointly and individually, applauded his extraordinary act and said, "He is really Bhishma (the terrible)!" And Santanu also, hearing of the extraordinary achievements of his son, became highly gratified and bestowed upon the high-souled prince the boon of death at will, saying, "Death shall never come to thee as long as thou desirest to live. Truly death shall approach thee, O sinless one, having first obtained thy command."'" SECTION CI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'O monarch, after the nuptials were over, king Santanu established his beautiful bride in his household. Soon after was born of Satyavati an intelligent and heroic son of Santanu named Chitrangada. He was endued with great energy and became an eminent man. The lord Santanu of great prowess also begat upon Satyavati another son named Vichitravirya, who became a mighty bowman and who became king after his father. And before that bull among men, viz., Vichitravirya, attained to majority, the wise king Santanu realised the inevitable influence of Time. And after Santanu had ascended to heaven, Bhishma, placing himself under the command of Satyavati, installed that suppressor of foes, viz., Chitrangada, on the throne, who, having soon vanquished by his prowess all monarchs, considered not any man as his equal. And beholding that he could vanquish men, Asuras, and the very gods, his namesake, the powerful king of the Gandharvas, approached him for an encounter. Between that Gandharva and that foremost one of the Kurus, who were both very powerful, there occurred on the field of Kurukshetra a fierce combat which lasted full three years on the banks of the Saraswati. In that terrible encounter characterised by thick showers of weapons and in which the combatants ground each other fiercely, the Gandharva, who had greater prowess or strategic deception, slew the Kuru prince. Having slain Chitrangada--that first of men and oppressor of foes--the Gandharva ascended to heaven. When that tiger among men endued with great prowess was slain, Bhishma, the son of Santanu, performed, O king, all his obsequies. He then installed the boy Vichitravirya of mighty arms, still in his minority, on the throne of the Kurus. And Vichitravirya, placing himself under the command of Bhishma, ruled the ancestral kingdom. And he adored Santanu's son Bhishma who was conversant with all the rules of religion and law; so, indeed, Bhishma also protected him that was so obedient to the dictates of duty.'" SECTION CII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'O thou of Kuru's race, after Chitrangada was slain, his successor Vichitravirya being a minor, Bhishma ruled the kingdom, placing himself under the command of Satyavati. When he saw that his brother, who was the foremost of intelligent men, attained to majority, Bhishma set his heart upon marrying Vichitravirya. At this time he heard that the three daughters of the king of Kasi, all equal in beauty to the Apsaras themselves, would be married on the same occasion, selecting their husbands at a self-choice ceremony. Then that foremost of car-warriors, that vanquisher of all foes, at the command of his mother, went to the city of Varanasi in a single chariot. There Bhishma, the son of Santanu, saw that innumerable monarchs had come from all directions; and there he also saw those three maidens that would select their own husbands. And when the (assembled) kings were each being mentioned by name, Bhishma chose those maidens (on behalf of his brother). And taking them upon his chariot, Bhishma, that first of smiters in battle, addressed the kings, O monarch, and said in a voice deep as the roar of the clouds, "The wise have directed that when an accomplished person has been invited, a maiden may be bestowed on him, decked with ornaments and along with many valuable presents. Others again may bestow their daughters by accepting a couple of kine. Some again bestow their daughters by taking a fixed sum, and some take away maidens by force. Some wed with the consent of the maidens, some by drugging them into consent, and some by going unto the maidens' parents and obtaining their sanction. Some again obtain wives as presents for assisting at sacrifices. Of these, the learned always applaud the eighth form of marriage. Kings, however, speak highly of the Swyamvara (the fifth form as above) and themselves wed according to it. But the sages have said that, that wife is dearly to be prized who is taken away by force, after the slaughter of opponents, from amidst the concourse of princes and kings invited to a self-choice ceremony. Therefore, ye monarchs, I bear away these maidens hence by force. Strive ye, to the best of your might, to vanquish me or to be vanquished. Ye monarchs, I stand here resolved to fight!" The Kuru prince, endued with great energy, thus addressing the assembled monarchs and the king of Kasi, took upon his car those maidens. And having taken them up, he sped his chariot away, challenging the invited kings to a fight. "'The challenged monarchs then all stood up, slapping their arms and biting their nether lips in wrath. And loud was the din produced, as, in a great hurry, they began to cast off their ornaments and put on their armour. And the motion of their ornaments and armour, O Janamejaya, brilliant as these were, resembled meteoric flashes in the sky. And with brows contracted and eyes red with rage, the monarchs moved in impatience, their armour and ornaments dazzling or waving with their agitated steps. The charioteers soon brought handsome cars with fine horses harnessed thereto. Those splendid warriors then, equipped with all kinds of weapons, rode on those cars, and with uplifted weapons pursued the retreating chief of the Kurus. Then, O Bharata, occurred the terrible encounter between those innumerable monarchs on one side and the Kuru warrior alone on the other. And the assembled monarchs threw at their foe ten thousand arrows at the same time. Bhishma, however speedily checked those numberless arrows before they could come at him by means of a shower of his own arrows as innumerable as the down on the body. Then those kings surrounded him from all sides and rained arrows on him like masses of clouds showering on the mountain- breast. But Bhishma, arresting with his shafts the course of that arrowy downpour, pierced each of the monarchs with three shafts. The latter, in their turn pierced Bhishma, each with five shafts. But, O king, Bhishma checked those by his prowess and pierced each of the contending kings with two shafts. The combat became so fierce with that dense shower of arrows and other missiles that it looked very much like the encounter between the celestials and the Asuras of old, and men of courage who took no part in it were struck with fear even to look at the scene. Bhishma cut off, with his arrows, on the field of battle, bows, and flagstaffs, and coats of mail, and human heads by hundreds and thousands. And such was his terrible prowess and extraordinary lightness of hand, and such the skill with which he protected himself, that the contending car-warriors, though his enemies, began to applaud him loudly. Then that foremost of all wielders of weapons having vanquished in battle all those monarchs, pursued his way towards the capital of the Bharatas, taking those maidens with him. "'It was then, O king, that mighty car-warrior, king Salya of immeasurable prowess, from behind summoned Bhishma, the son of Santanu, to an encounter. And desirous of obtaining the maidens, he came upon Bhishma like a mighty leader of a herd of elephants rushing upon another of his kind, and tearing with his tusks the latter's hips at the sight of a female elephant in heat. And Salya of mighty arms, moved by wrath addressed Bhishma and said, "Stay, Stay." Then Bhishma, that tiger among men, that grinder of hostile armies, provoked by these words, flamed up in wrath like a blazing fire. Bow in hand, and brow furrowed into wrinkles, he stayed on his car, in obedience to Kshatriya usage having checked its course in expectation of the enemy. All the monarchs seeing him stop, stood there to become spectators of the coming encounter between him and Salya. The two then began to exhibit their prowess (upon each other) like roaring bulls of great strength at the sight of a cow in rut. Then that foremost of men, king Salya covered Bhishma, the son of Santanu with hundreds and thousands of swift-winged shafts. And those monarchs seeing Salya thus covering Bhishma at the outset with innumerable shafts, wondered much and uttered shouts of applause. Beholding his lightness of hand in combat, the crowd of regal spectators became very glad and applauded Salya greatly. That subjugator of hostile towns, Bhishma, then, on hearing those shouts of the Kshatriyas, became very angry and said, "Stay, Stay." In wrath, he commanded his charioteer, saying, "Lead thou my car to where Salya is, so that I may slay him instantly as Garuda slays a serpent." Then the Kuru chief fixed the Varuna weapon on his bow-string, and with it afflicted the four steeds of king Salya. And, O tiger among kings, the Kuru chief, then, warding off with his weapons those of his foe, slew Salya's charioteer. Then that first of men, Bhishma, the son of Santanu, fighting for the sake of those damsels, slew with the Aindra weapon the noble steeds of his adversary. He then vanquished that best of monarchs but left him with his life. O bull of Bharata's race, Salya, after his defeat, returned to his kingdom and continued to rule it virtuously. And O conqueror of hostile towns, the other kings also, who had come to witness the self-choice ceremony returned to their own kingdoms. "'That foremost of smiters, viz., Bhishma, after defeating those monarchs, set out with those damsels, for Hastinapura whence the virtuous Kuru prince Vichitravirya ruled the earth like that best of monarchs, viz., his father Santanu. And, O king, passing through many forests, rivers, hills, and woods abounding with trees, he arrived (at the capital) in no time. Of immeasurable prowess in battle, the son of the ocean-going Ganga, having slain numberless foes in battle without a scratch on his own person, brought the daughters of the king of Kasi unto the Kurus as tenderly if they were his daughters-in-law, or younger sisters, or daughters. And Bhishma of mighty arms, impelled by the desire of benefiting his brother, having by his prowess brought them thus, then offered those maidens possessing every accomplishment unto Vichitravirya. Conversant with the dictates of virtue, the son of Santanu, having achieved such an extraordinary feat according to (kingly) custom, then began to make preparations for his brother's wedding. And when everything about the wedding had been settled by Bhishma in consultation with Satyavati, the eldest daughter of the king of Kasi, with a soft smile, told him these words, "At heart I had chosen the king of Saubha for my husband. He had, in his heart, accepted me for his wife. This was also approved by my father. At the self-choice ceremony also I would have chosen him as my lord. Thou art conversant with all the dictates of virtue, knowing all this, do as thou likest." Thus addressed by that maiden in the presence of the Brahmanas, the heroic Bhishma began to reflect as to what should be done. As he was conversant with the rules of virtue, he consulted with the Brahmanas who had mastered the Vedas, and permitted Amba, the eldest daughter of the ruler of Kasi to do as she liked. But he bestowed with due rites the two other daughters, Ambika and Ambalika on his younger brother Vichitravirya. And though Vichitravirya was virtuous and abstemious, yet, proud of youth and beauty, he soon became lustful after his marriage. And both Ambika and Ambalika were of tall stature, and of the complexion of molten gold. And their heads were covered with black curly hair, and their finger-nails were high and red; their hips were fat and round, and their breasts full and deep. And endued with every auspicious mark, the amiable young ladies considered themselves to be wedded to a husband who was every way worthy of themselves, and extremely loved and respected Vichitravirya. And Vichitravirya also, endued with the prowess of the celestials and the beauty of the twin Aswins, could steal the heart of any beautiful woman. And the prince passed seven years uninterruptedly in the company of his wives. He was attacked while yet in the prime of youth, with phthisis. Friends and relatives in consultation with one another tried to effect a cure. But in spite of all efforts, the Kuru prince died, setting like the evening sun. The virtuous Bhishma then became plunged into anxiety and grief, and in consultation with Satyavati caused the obsequial rites of the deceased to be performed by learned priests and the several of the Kuru race.'" SECTION CIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The unfortunate Satyavati then became plunged in grief on account of her son. And after performing with her daughters-in- law the funeral rites of the deceased, consoled, as best she could, her weeping daughters-in-law and Bhishma, that foremost of all wielders of weapons. And turning her eyes to religion, and to the paternal and maternal lines (of the Kurus), she addressed Bhishma and said "The funeral cake, the achievements, and the perpetuation of the line of the virtuous and celebrated Santanu of Kuru's race, all now depend on thee. As the attainment of heaven is inseparable from good deeds, as long life is inseparable from truth and faith, so is virtue inseparable from thee. O virtuous one, thou art well-acquainted, in detail and in the abstract, with the dictates of virtue, with various Srutis, and with all the branches of the Vedas; know very well that thou art equal unto Sukra and Angiras as regards firmness in virtue, knowledge of the particular customs of families, and readiness of inventions under difficulties. Therefore, O foremost of virtuous men, relying on thee greatly, I shall appoint thee in a certain matter. Hearing me, it behoveth thee to do my bidding. O bull among men, my son and thy brother, endued with energy and dear unto thee, hath gone childless to heaven while still a boy. These wives of thy brother, the amiable daughters of the ruler of Kasi, possessing beauty and youth, have become desirous of children. Therefore, O thou of mighty arms, at my command, raise offspring on them for the perpetuation of our line. It behoveth thee to guard virtue against loss. Install thyself on the throne and rule the kingdom of the Bharatas. Wed thou duly a wife. Plunge not thy ancestors into hell." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by his mother and friends and relatives, that oppressor of foes, the virtuous Bhishma, gave this reply conformable to the dictates of virtue, "O mother, what thou sayest is certainly sanctioned by virtue. But thou knowest what my vow is in the matter of begetting children. Thou knowest also all that transpired in connection with thy dower. O Satyavati, I repeat the pledge I once gave, viz., I would renounce three worlds, the empire of heaven, anything that may be greater than that, but truth I would never renounce. The earth may renounce its scent, water may renounce its moisture, light may renounce its attribute of exhibiting forms, air may renounce its attribute of touch, the sun may renounce his glory, fire, its heat, the moon, his cooling rays, space, its capacity of generating sound, the slayer of Vritra, his prowess, the god of justice, his impartiality; but I cannot renounce truth." Thus addressed by her son endued wealth of energy, Satyavati said unto Bhishma, "O thou whose prowess is truth, I know of thy firmness in truth. Thou canst, if so minded, create, by the help of thy energy, three worlds other than those that exist. I know what thy vow was on my account. But considering this emergency, bear thou the burden of the duty that one oweth to his ancestors. O punisher of foes, act in such a way that the lineal link may not be broken and our friends and relatives may not grieve." Thus urged by the miserable and weeping Satyavati speaking such words inconsistent with virtue from grief at the loss of her son, Bhishma addressed her again and said, "O Queen, turn not thy eyes away from virtue. O, destroy us not. Breach of truth by a Kshatriya is never applauded in our treatises on religion. I shall soon tell thee, O Queen, what the established Kshatriya usage is to which recourse may be had to prevent Santanu's line becoming extinct on earth. Hearing me, reflect on what should be done in consultation with learned priests and those that are acquainted with practices allowable in times of emergency and distress, forgetting not at the same time what the ordinary course of social conduct is."'" SECTION CIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Bhishma continued, "In olden days, Rama, the son of Jamadagni, in anger at the death of his father, slew with his battle axe the king of the Haihayas. And Rama, by cutting off the thousand arms of Arjuna (the Haihaya king), achieved a most difficult feat in the world. Not content with this, he set out on his chariot for the conquest of the world, and taking up his bow he cast around his mighty weapons to exterminate the Kshatriyas. And the illustrious scion of Bhrigu's race, by means of his swift arrows annihilated the Kshatriya tribe one and twenty times. "'"And when the earth was thus deprived of Kshatriyas by the great Rishi, the Kshatriya ladies all over the land had offspring raised by Brahmanas skilled in the Vedas. It has been said in the Vedas that the sons so raised belongeth to him that had married the mother. And the Kshatriya ladies went in unto the Brahamanas not lustfully but from motives of virtue. Indeed, it was thus that the Kshatriya race was revived. "'"In this connection there is another old history that I will recite to you. There was in olden days a wise Rishi of the name of Utathya. He had a wife of the name Mamata whom he dearly loved. One day Utathya's younger brother Vrihaspati, the priest of the celestials, endued with great energy, approached Mamata. The latter, however, told her husband's younger brother--that foremost of eloquent men--that she had conceived from her connection with his elder brother and that, therefore, he should not then seek for the consummation of his wishes. She continued, 'O illustrious Vrihaspati, the child that I have conceived hath studied in his mother's womb the Vedas with the six Angas, Semen tuum frustra perdi non potest. How can then this womb of mine afford room for two children at a time? Therefore, it behoveth thee not to seek for the consummation of thy desire at such a time.' Thus addressed by her, Vrihaspati, though possessed of great wisdom, succeeded not in suppressing his desire. Quum auten jam cum illa coiturus esset, the child in the womb then addressed him and said, 'O father, cease from thy attempt. There is no space here for two. O illustrious one, the room is small. I have occupied it first. Semen tuum perdi non potest. It behoveth thee not to afflict me.' But Vrihaspati without listening to what that child in the womb said, sought the embraces of Mamata possessing the most beautiful pair of eyes. Ille tamen Muni qui in venture erat punctum temporis quo humor vitalis jam emissum iret providens, viam per quam semen intrare posset pedibus obstruxit. Semen ita exhisum, excidit et in terram projectumest. And the illustrious Vrihaspati, beholding this, became indignant, and reproached Utathya's child and cursed him, saying, 'Because thou hast spoken to me in the way thou hast at a time of pleasure that is sought after by all creatures, perpetual darkness shall overtake thee.' And from this curse of the illustrious Vrishaspati Utathya's child who was equal unto Vrihaspati in energy, was born blind and came to be called Dirghatamas (enveloped in perpetual darkness). And the wise Dirghatamas, possessed of a knowledge of the Vedas, though born blind, succeeded yet by virtue of his learning, in obtaining for a wife a young and handsome Brahmana maiden of the name of Pradweshi. And having married her, the illustrious Dirghatamas, for the expansion of Utathya's race, begat upon her several children with Gautama as their eldest. These children, however, were all given to covetousness and folly. The virtuous and illustrious Dirghatamas possessing complete mastery over the Vedas, soon after learnt from Surabhi's son the practices of their order and fearlessly betook himself to those practices, regarding them with reverence. (For shame is the creature of sin and can never be where there is purity of intention). Then those best of Munis that dwelt in the same asylum, beholding him transgress the limits of propriety became indignant, seeing sin where sin was not. And they said, 'O, this man, transgresseth the limit of propriety. No longer doth he deserve a place amongst us. Therefore, shall we all cast this sinful wretch off.' And they said many other things regarding the Muni Dirghatamas. And his wife, too, having obtained children, became indignant with him. "'"The husband then addressing his wife Pradweshi, said, 'Why is it that thou also hast been dissatisfied with me?' His wife answered, 'The husband is called the Bhartri because he supporteth the wife. He is called Pati because he protecteth her. But thou art neither, to me! O thou of great ascetic merit, on the other hand, thou hast been blind from birth, it is I who have supported thee and thy children. I shall not do so in future.' "'"Hearing these words of his wife, the Rishi became indignant and said unto her and her children, 'Take me unto the Kshatriyas and thou shalt then be rich.' His wife replied (by saying), 'I desire not wealth that may be procured by thee, for that can never bring me happiness. O best of Brahmanas, do as thou likest. I shall not be able to maintain thee as before.' At these words of his wife, Dirghatamas said, 'I lay down from this day as a rule that every woman shall have to adhere to one husband for her life. Be the husband dead or alive, it shall not be lawful for a woman to have connection with another. And she who may have such connection shall certainly be regarded as fallen. A woman without husband shall always be liable to be sinful. And even if she be wealthy she shall not be able to enjoy that wealth truly. Calumny and evil report shall ever dog her.' Hearing these words of her husband Pradweshi became very angry, and commanded her sons, saying, 'Throw him into the waters of Ganga!' And at the command of their mother, the wicked Gautama and his brothers, those slaves of covetousness and folly, exclaiming, 'Indeed, why should we support this old man?' tied the Muni to a raft and committing him to the mercy of the stream returned home without compunction. The blind old man drifting along the stream on that raft, passed through the territories of many kings. One day a king named Vali conversant with every duty went to the Ganges to perform his ablutions. And as the monarch was thus engaged, the raft to which the Rishi was tied, approached him. And as it came, the king took the old man. The virtuous Vali, ever devoted to truth, then learning who the man was that was thus saved by him, chose him for raising up offspring. And Vali said, 'O illustrious one, it behoveth thee to raise upon my wife a few sons that shall be virtuous and wise.' Thus addressed, the Rishi endued with great energy, expressed his willingness. Thereupon king Vali sent his wife Sudeshna unto him. But the queen knowing that the latter was blind and old went not unto him, she sent unto him her nurse. And upon that Sudra woman the virtuous Rishi of passions under full control begat eleven children of whom Kakshivat was the eldest. And beholding those eleven sons with Kakshivat as the eldest, who had studied all the Vedas and who like Rishis were utterers of Brahma and were possessed of great power, king Vali one day asked the Rishi saying, 'Are these children mine?' The Rishi replied, 'No, they are mine. Kakshivat and others have been begotten by me upon a Sudra woman. Thy unfortunate queen Sudeshna, seeing me blind and old, insulted me by not coming herself but sending unto me, instead, her nurse.' The king then pacified that best of Rishis and sent unto him his queen Sudeshna. The Rishi by merely touching her person said to her, 'Thou shalt have five children named Anga, Vanga, Kalinga, Pundra and Suhma, who shall be like unto Surya (Sun) himself in glory. And after their names as many countries shall be known on earth. It is after their names that their dominions have come to be called Anga, Vanga, Kalinga, Pundra and Suhma.' "'"It was thus that the line of Vali was perpetuated, in days of old, by a great Rishi. And it was thus also that many mighty bowmen and great car- warriors wedded to virtue, sprung in the Kshatriya race from the seed of Brahmanas. Hearing this, O mother, do as thou likest, as regards the matter in hand."'" SECTION CV (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Bhishma continued, "Listen, O mother, to me as I indicate the means by which the Bharata line may be perpetuated. Let an accomplished Brahmana be invited by an offer of wealth, and let him raise offspring upon the wives of Vichitravirya."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Satyavati, then, smiling softly and in voice broken in bashfulness, addressed Bhishma saying, "O Bharata of mighty arms, what thou sayest is true. From my confidence in thee I shall now indicate the means of perpetuating our line. Thou shall not be able to reject it, being conversant, as thou art, with the practices permitted in seasons of distress. In our race, thou art Virtue, and thou art Truth, and thou art, too, our sole refuge. Therefore hearing what I say truly, do what may be proper. "'"My father was a virtuous man. For virtue's sake he had kept a (ferry) boat. One day, in the prime of my youth, I went to ply that boat. It so happened that the great and wise Rishi Parasara, that foremost of all virtuous men, came, and betook himself to my boat for crossing the Yamuna. As I was rowing him across the river, the Rishi became excited with desire and began to address me in soft words. The fear of my father was uppermost in my mind. But the terror of the Rishi's curse at last prevailed. And having obtained from him a precious boon, I could not refuse his solicitations. The Rishi by his energy brought me under his complete control, and gratified his desire then and there, having first enveloped the region in a thick fog. Before this there was a revolting fishy odour in my body; but the Rishi dispelled it and gave me my present fragrance. The Rishi also told me that by bringing forth his child in an island of the river, I would still continue (to be) a virgin. And the child of Parasara so born of me in my maidenhood hath become a great Rishi endued with large ascetic powers and known by the name of Dwaipayana (the island- born). That illustrious Rishi having by his ascetic power divided the Vedas into four parts hath come to be called on earth by the name of Vyasa (the divider or arranger), and for his dark colour, Krishna (the dark). Truthful in speech, free from passion, a mighty ascetic who hath burnt all his sins, he went away with his father immediately after his birth. Appointed by me and thee also, that Rishi of incomparable splendour will certainly beget good children upon the wives of thy brother. He told me when he went away, 'Mother, think of me when thou art in difficulty.' I will now call him up, if thou, O Bhishma of mighty arms so desirest. If thou art willing, O Bhishma, I am sure that great ascetic will beget children upon Vichitravirya's field."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Mention being made of the great Rishi, Bhishma with joined palms said, "That man is truly intelligent who fixes his eyes judiciously on virtue, profit, and pleasure, and who after reflecting with patience, acteth in such a way that virtue may lead to future virtue, profit to future profit and pleasure to future pleasure. Therefore, that which hath been said by thee and which, besides being beneficial to us, is consistent with virtue, is certainly the best advice and hath my full approval." And when Bhishma had said this, O thou of Kuru's race, Kali (Satyavati) thought of the Muni Dwaipayana and Dwaipayana who was then engaged in interpreting the Vedas, learning that he was being called up by his mother, came instantly unto her without anybody's knowing it. Satayavati then duly greeted her son and embraced him with arms, bathing him in her tears, for the daughter of the fisherman wept bitterly at the sight of her son after so long a time. And her first son, the great Vyasa, beholding her weeping, washed her with cool water, and bowing unto her, said, "I have come, O mother, to fulfil thy wishes. Therefore, O virtuous one, command me without delay. I shall accomplish thy desire." The family priest of the Bharatas then worshipped the great Rishi duly, and the latter accepted the offerings of worship, uttering the usual mantras. And gratified with the worship he received, he took his seat. Satyavati, beholding him seated at his ease, after the usual inquiries, addressed him and said, "O learned one, sons derive their birth both from the father and the mother. They are, therefore, the common property of both parents. There cannot be the least doubt about it that the mother hath as much power over them as the father. As thou art, indeed, my eldest son according to the ordinance, O Brahmarshi, so is Vichitravirya my youngest son. And as Bhishma is Vichitravirya's brother on the father's side, so art thou his brother on the same mother's side. I do not know what you may think, but this is what, O son, I think. This Bhishma, the son of Santanu, devoted to truth, doth not, for the sake of truth, entertain the desire of either begetting children or ruling the kingdom. Therefore, from affection for thy brother Vichitravirya, for the perpetuation of our dynasty, for the sake of this Bhishma's request and my command, for kindness to all creatures, for the protection of the people and from the liberality of thy heart, O sinless one, it behoveth thee to do what I say. Thy younger brother hath left two widows like unto the daughters of the celestials themselves, endued with youth and great beauty. For the sake of virtue and religion, they have become desirous of offspring. Thou art the fittest person to be appointed. Therefore beget upon them children worthy of our race and for the continuance of our line." "'Vyasa, hearing this, said, "O Satyavati, thou knowest what virtue is both in respect of this life and the other. O thou of great wisdom, thy affections also are set on virtue. Therefore, at thy command, making virtue my motive, I shall do what thou desirest. Indeed, this practice that is conformable to the true and eternal religion is known to me. I shall give unto my brother children that shall be like unto Mitra and Varuna. Let the ladies then duly observe for one full year the vow I indicate. They shall then be purified. No women shall ever approach me without having observed a rigid vow." "'Satyavati then said, "O sinless one, it must be as thou sayest. Take such steps that the ladies may conceive immediately. In a kingdom where there is no king, the people perish from want of protection; sacrifices and other holy acts are suspended; the clouds send no showers; and the gods disappear. How can a kingdom be protected that hath no king? Therefore, see thou that the ladies conceive. Bhishma will watch over the children as long as they are in their mother's wombs." "'Vyasa replied, "If I am to give unto my brother children so unseasonably, then let the ladies bear my ugliness. That in itself shall, in their case, be the austerest of penances. If the princess of Kosala can bear my strong odour, my ugly and grim visage, my attire and body, she shall then conceive an excellent child."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having spoken thus unto Satyavati, Vyasa of great energy addressed her and said, "Let the princess of Kosala clad in clean attire and checked with ornaments wait for me in her bed-chamber." Saying this, the Rishi disappeared. Satyavati then went to her daughter-in- law and seeing her in private spoke to her these words of beneficial and virtuous import, "O princess of Kosala, listen to what I say. It is consistent with virtue. The dynasty of the Bharatas hath become extinct from my misfortune. Beholding my affliction and the extinction of his paternal line, the wise Bhishma, impelled also by the desire of perpetuating our race, hath made me a suggestion, which suggestion, however, for its accomplishment is dependent on thee. Accomplish it, O daughter, and restore the lost line of the Bharatas. O thou of fair hips, bring thou forth a child equal in splendour unto the chief of the celestials. He shall bear the onerous burden of this our hereditary kingdom." "'Satyavati having succeeded with great difficulty in procuring the assent of her virtuous daughter-in-law to her proposal which was not inconsistent with virtue, then fed Brahmanas and Rishis and numberless guests who arrived on the occasion.'" SECTION CVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Soon after the monthly season of the princess of Kosala had been over, Satyavati, purifying her daughter-in-law with a bath, led her into the sleeping apartment. There seating her upon a luxurious bed, she addressed her, saying, "O Princess of Kosala, thy husband hath an elder brother who shall this day enter thy womb as thy child. Wait for him tonight without dropping off to sleep." Hearing these words of her mother- in-law, the amiable princess, as she lay on her bed, began to think of Bhishma and the other elders of the Kuru race. Then the Rishi of truthful speech, who had given his promise in respect of Amvika (the eldest of the princesses) in the first instance, entered her chamber while the lamp was burning. The princess, seeing his dark visage, his matted locks of copper hue, blazing eyes, his grim beard, closed her eyes in fear. The Rishi, from desire of accomplishing his mother's wishes, however knew her. But the latter, struck with fear, opened not her eyes even once to look at him. And when Vyasa came out, he was met by his mother, who asked him, "Shall the princess have an accomplished son?" Hearing her, he replied, "The son of the princess she will bring forth shall be equal in might unto ten thousand elephants. He will be an illustrious royal sage, possessed of great learning and intelligence and energy. The high-souled one shall have in his time a century of sons. But from the fault of his mother he shall be blind." At these words of her son, Satyavati said, "O thou of ascetic wealth, how can one that is blind become a monarch worthy of the Kurus? How can one that is blind become the protector of his relatives and family, and the glory of his father's race? It behoveth thee to give another king unto the Kurus." Saying, "So be it," Vyasa went away. And the first princess of Kosala in due time brought forth a blind son. "'Soon after Satyavati, O chastiser of foes, summoned Vyasa, after having secured the assent of her daughter-in-law. Vyasa came according to his promise, and approached, as before, the second wife of his brother. And Ambalika beholding the Rishi, became pale with fear. And, O Bharata, beholding her so afflicted and pale with fear, Vyasa addressed her and said, "Because thou hast been pale with fear at the sight of my grim visage, therefore, thy child shall be pale in complexion. O thou of handsome face, the name also thy child shall bear will be Pandu (the pale)." Saying this, the illustrious and best of Rishis came out of her chamber. And as he came out, he was met by his mother who asked him about the would-be-child. The Rishi told her that the child would be of pale complexion and known by the name of Pandu. Satyavati again begged of the Rishi another child, and the Rishi told her in reply, "So be it." Ambalika, then, when her time came, brought forth a son of pale complexion. Blazing with beauty the child was endued with all auspicious marks. Indeed, it was this child who afterwards became the father of those mighty archers, the Pandavas. "'Some time after, when the oldest of Vichitravirya's widows again had her monthly season, she was solicited by Satyavati to approach Vyasa once again. Possessed of beauty like a daughter of a celestial, the princess refused to do her mother-in-law's bidding, remembering the grim visage and strong odour of the Rishi. She, however, sent unto him a maid of hers, endued with the beauty of an Apsara and decked with her own ornaments. And when the Vyasa arrived, the maid rose up and saluted him. And she waited upon him respectfully and took her seat near him when asked. And, O king, the great Rishi of rigid vows, was well-pleased with her, and when he rose to go away, he addressed her and said, "Amiable one, thou shalt no longer be a slave. Thy child also shall be greatly fortunate and virtuous, and the foremost of all intelligent men on earth!" And, O king, the son thus begotten upon her by Krishna-Dwaipayana was afterwards known by the name of Vidura. He was thus the brother of Dhritarashtra and the illustrious Pandu. And Vidura was free from desire and passion and was conversant with the rules of government, and was the god of justice born on earth under the curse of the illustrious Rishi Mandavya. And Krishna-Dwaipayana, when he met his mother as before, informed her as to how he had been deceived by the seniormost of the princesses and how he had begotten a son upon a Sudra woman. And having spoken thus unto his mother the Rishi disappeared from her sight. "'Thus were born, in the field of Vichitravirya, even of Dwaipayana those sons of the splendour of celestial children, those propagators of the Kuru race.'" SECTION CVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'What did the god of justice do for which he was cursed? And who was the Brahmana ascetic from whose curse the god had to be born in the Sudra caste?' "Vaisampayana said, 'There was a Brahmana known by the name of Mandavya. He was conversant with all duties and was devoted to religion, truth and asceticism. The great ascetic used to sit at the entrance of his hermitage at the foot of a tree, with his arms upraised in the observance of the vow of silence. And as he sat there for years together, one day there came into his asylum a number of robbers laden with spoil. And, O bull in Bharata's race, those robbers were then being pursued by a superior body as guardians of the peace. The thieves, on entering that asylum, hid their booty there, and in fear concealed themselves thereabout before the guards came. But scarcely had they thus concealed themselves when the constables in pursuit came to the spot. The latter, observing the Rishi sitting under the tree, questioned him, O king, saying, "O best of Brahmanas, which way have the thieves taken? Point it out to us so that we may follow it without loss of time." Thus questioned by the guardians of peace the ascetic, O king, said not a word, good or otherwise, in reply. The officers of the king, however, on searching that asylum soon discovered the thieves concealed thereabout together with the plunder. Upon this, their suspicion fell upon the Muni, and accordingly they seized him with the thieves and brought him before the king. The king sentenced him to be executed along with his supposed associates. And the officers, acting in ignorance, carried out the sentence by impaling the celebrated Rishi. And having impaled him, they went to the king with the booty they had recovered. But the virtuous Rishi, though impaled and kept without food, remained in that state for a long time without dying. And the Rishi by his ascetic power not only preserved his life but summoned other Rishi to the scene. And they came there in the night in the forms of birds, and beholding him engaged in ascetic meditation though fixed on that stake, became plunged into grief. And telling that best of Brahmanas who they were, they asked him saying, "O Brahmana, we desire to know what hath been thy sin for which thou hast thus been made to suffer the tortures of impalement!"'" SECTION CVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus asked, the tiger among Munis then answered those Rishis of ascetic wealth, "Whom shall I blame for this? In fact, none else (than my own self) hath offended against me!" After this, O monarch, the officers of justice, seeing him alive, informed the king of it. The latter hearing what they said, consulted with his advisers, and came to the place and began to pacify the Rishi, fixed on the stake. And the king said, "O thou best of Rishis, I have offended against thee in ignorance. I beseech thee to pardon me for the same. It behoveth thee not to be angry with me." Thus addressed by the king, the Muni was pacified. And beholding him free from wrath, the king took him up with the stake and endeavoured to extract it from his body. But not succeeding therein, he cut it off at the point just outside the body. The Muni, with a portion of the stake within his body, walked about, and in that state practised the austerest of penances and conquered numberless regions unattainable by others. And for the circumstances of a part of the stake being within his body, he came to be known in the three worlds by the name of Ani-Mandavya (Mandavya with the stake within). And one day that Brahamana acquainted with the highest truth of religion went unto the abode of the god of justice. And beholding the god there seated on his throne, the Rishi reproached him and said, "What, pray, is that sinful act committed by me unconsciously, for which I am bearing this punishment? O, tell me soon, and behold the power of my asceticism." "'The god of justice, thus questioned, replied, "O thou of ascetic wealth, a little insect was once pierced by thee on a blade of grass. Thou bearest now the consequence of the act. O Rishi, as a gift, however small, multiplieth in respect of its religious merits, so a sinful act multiplieth in respect of the woe it bringeth in its train." On hearing this, Ani-Mandavya asked, "O tell me truly when this act was committed by me." Told in reply by the god of justice that he had committed it when a child, the Rishi said, "That shall not be a sin which may be done by a child up to the twelfth year of his age from birth. The scriptures shall not recognise it as sinful. The punishment thou hast inflicted on me for such a venial offence hath been disproportionate in severity. The killing of a Brahmana involves a sin that is heavier than the killing of any other living being. Thou shall, therefore, O god of justice, have to be born among men even in the Sudra order. And from this day I establish this limit in respect of the consequence of acts that an act shall not be sinful when committed by one below the age of fourteen. But when committed by one above that age, it shall be regarded as sin."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Cursed for this fault by that illustrious Rishi, the god of justice had his birth as Vidura in the Sudra order. And Vidura was well-versed in the doctrines of morality and also politics and worldly profit. And he was entirely free from covetousness and wrath. Possessed of great foresight and undisturbed tranquillity of mind, Vidura was ever devoted to the welfare of the Kurus.'" SECTION CIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Upon the birth of those three children, Kurujangala, Kurukshetra, and the Kurus grew in prosperity. The earth began to yield abundant harvest, and the crops also were of good flavour. And the clouds began to pour rain in season and trees became full of fruits and flowers. And the draught cattle were all happy and the birds and other animals rejoiced exceedingly. And the flowers became fragrant and the fruits became sweet; the cities and towns became filled with merchants, artisans, traders and artists of every description. And the people became brave, learned, honest and happy. And there were no robbers then, nor anybody who was sinful. And it seemed that the golden age had come upon every part of the kingdom. And the people devoted to virtuous acts, sacrifices and truth, and regarding one another with love and affection grew in prosperity. And free from pride, wrath and covetousness, they rejoiced in perfectly innocent sports. And the capital of the Kurus, full as the ocean, was a second Amaravati, teeming with hundreds of palaces and mansions, and possessing gates and arches dark as the clouds. And men in great cheerfulness sported constantly on rivers, lakes and tanks, and in fine groves and charming woods. And the southern Kurus, in their virtuous rivalry with their northern kinsmen, walked about in the company of Siddhas and Charanas and Rishis. And all over that delightful country whose prosperity was thus increased by the Kurus, there were no misers and no widowed women. And the wells and lakes were ever full; the groves abounded with trees, and the houses and abodes of Brahmanas were full of wealth and the whole kingdom was full of festivities. And, O king, virtuously ruled by Bhishma, the kingdom was adorned with hundreds of sacrificial stakes. And the wheel of virtue having been set in motion by Bhishma, and the country became so contented that the subjects of other kingdoms, quitting their homes, came to dwell there and increase its population. And the citizens and the people were filled with hope, upon seeing the youthful acts of their illustrious princes. And, O king, in the house of the Kuru chiefs as also of the principal citizens, "give", "eat" were the only words constantly heard. And Dhritarashtra and Pandu and Vidura of great intelligence were from their birth brought up by Bhishma, as if they were his own sons. And the children, having passed through the usual rites of their order, devoted themselves to vows and study. And they grew up into fine young men skilled in the Vedas and all athletic sports. And they became well-skilled in the practice of bow, in horsemanship, in encounters with mace, sword and shield, in the management of elephants in battle, and in the science of morality. Well-read in history and the Puranas and various branches of learning, and acquainted with the truths of the Vedas and their branches they acquired knowledge, which was versatile and deep. And Pandu, possessed of great prowess, excelled all men in archery while Dhritarashtra excelled all in personal strength, while in the three worlds there was no one equal to Vidura in devotion to virtue and in the knowledge of the dictates of morality. And beholding the restoration of the extinct line of Santanu, the saying became current in all countries that among mothers of heroes, the daughters of the king of Kasi were the first; that among countries Kurujangala was the first; that among virtuous men, Vidura was the first; that among cities Hastinapura was the first. Pandu became king, for Dhritarashtra, owing to the blindness, and Vidura, for his birth by a Sudra woman, did not obtain the kingdom. One day Bhishma, the foremost of those acquainted with the duties of a statesman and dictates of morality, properly addressing Vidura conversant with the truth of religion and virtue, said as follows.'" SECTION CX (Sambhava Parva continued) "'Bhishma said, "This our celebrated race, resplendent with every virtue and accomplishment, hath all along sovereignty over all other monarchs on earth. Its glory maintained and itself perpetuated by many virtuous and illustrious monarchs of old, the illustrious Krishna (Dwaipayana) and Satyavati and myself have raised you (three) up, in order that it may not be extinct. It behoveth myself and thee also to take such steps that this our dynasty may expand again as the sea. It hath been heard by me that there are three maidens worthy of being allied to our race. One is the daughter of (Surasena of) the Yadava race; the other is the daughter of Suvala; and the third is the princess of Madra. O son, all these maidens are of course of blue blood. Possessed of beauty and pure blood, they are eminently fit for an alliance with our family. O thou foremost of intelligent men, I think we should choose them for the growth of our race. Tell me what thou thinkest." Thus addressed, Vidura replied, "Thou art our father and thou art our mother, too. Thou art our respected spiritual instructor. Therefore, do thou what may be best for us in thy eyes."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Soon after Bhishma heard from the Brahmanas that Gandhari, the amiable daughter of Suvala, having worshipped Hara (Siva) had obtained from the deity the boon that she should have a century of sons. Bhishma, the grandfather of the Kurus, having heard this, sent messengers unto the king of Gandhara. King Suvala at first hesitated on account of the blindness of the bridegroom, but taking into consideration the blood of the Kurus, their fame and behaviour, he gave his virtuous daughter unto Dhritarashtra and the chaste Gandhari hearing that Dhritarashtra was blind and that her parents had consented to marry her to him, from love and respect for her future husband, blindfolded her own eyes. Sakuni, the son of Suvala, bringing unto the Kurus his sister endued with youth and beauty, formally gave her away unto Dhritarashtra. And Gandhari was received with great respect and the nuptials were celebrated with great pomp under Bhishma's directions. And the heroic Sakuni, after having bestowed his sister along with many valuable robes, and having received Bhishma's adorations, returned to his own city. And, O thou of Bharata's race, the beautiful Gandhari gratified all the Kurus by her behaviour and respectful attentions. And Gandhari, ever devoted to her husband, gratified her superiors by her good conduct; and as she was chaste, she never referred even by words to men other than her husband or such superiors.'" SECTION CXI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'There was amongst the Yadavas a chief named Sura. He was the father of Vasudeva. And he had a daughter called Pritha, who was unrivalled for beauty on earth. And, O thou of Bharata's race, Sura, always truthful in speech, gave from friendship this his firstborn daughter unto his childless cousin and friend, the illustrious Kuntibhoja-- the son of his paternal aunt--pursuant to a former promise. And Pritha in the house of her adoptive father was engaged in looking after the duties of hospitality to Brahmanas and other guests. Once she gratified by her attentions the terrible Brahmana of rigid vows, who was known by the name of Durvasa and was well-acquainted with the hidden truths of morality. Gratified with her respectful attentions, the sage, anticipating by his spiritual power the future (season of) distress (consequent upon the curse to be pronounced upon Pandu for his unrighteous act of slaying a deer while serving its mate) imparted to her a formula of invocation for summoning any of the celestials she liked to give her children. And the Rishi said, "Those celestials that thou shall summon by this Mantra shall certainly approach thee and give thee children." Thus addressed by the Brahmana, the amiable Kunti (Pritha) became curious, and in her maidenhood summoned the god Arka (Sun). And as soon as she pronounced the Mantra, she beheld that effulgent deity--that beholder of everything in the world-- approaching her. And beholding that extraordinary sight, the maiden of faultless features was overcome with surprise. But the god Vivaswat (Sun) approaching her, said, "Here I am, O black-eyed girl! Tell me what I am to do for thee." "'Hearing this, Kunti said, "O slayer of foes, a certain Brahamana gave me this formula of invocation as a boon, and, O lord, I have summoned thee only to test its efficacy. For this offence I bow to thee. A woman, whatever be her offence, always deserveth pardon." Surya (Sun) replied, "I know that Durvasa hath granted this boon. But cast off thy fears, timid maiden, and grant me thy embraces. Amiable one, my approach cannot be futile; it must bear fruit. Thou hast summoned me, and if it be for nothing, it shall certainly be regarded as thy transgression."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Vivaswat thus spoke unto her many things with a view to allay her fears, but, O Bharata, the amiable maiden, from modesty and fear of her relatives, consented not to grant his request. And, O bull of Bharata's race, Arka addressed her again and said, "O princess, for my sake, it shall not be sinful for thee to grant my wish." Thus speaking unto the daughter of Kuntibhoja, the illustrious Tapana--the illuminator of the universe--gratified his wish. And of this connection there was immediately born a son known all over the world as Karna accoutred with natural armour and with face brightened by ear-rings. And the heroic Karna was the first of all wielders of weapons, blessed with good fortune, and endued with the beauty of a celestial child. And after the birth of this child, the illustrious Tapana granted unto Pritha her maidenhood and ascended to heaven. And the princess of the Vrishni race beholding with sorrow that son born of her, reflected intently upon what was then the best for her to do. And from fear of her relatives she resolved to conceal that evidence of her folly. And she cast her offspring endued with great physical strength into the water. Then the well-known husband of Radha, of the Suta caste, took up the child thus cast into the water, and he and his wife brought him up as their own son. And Radha and her husband bestowed on him the name of Vasusena (born with wealth) because he was born with a natural armour and ear-rings. And endued as he was born with great strength, as he grew up, he became skilled in all weapons. Possessed of great energy, he used to adore the sun until his back was heated by his rays (i.e., from dawn to midday), and during the hours of worship, there was nothing on earth that the heroic and intelligent Vasusena would not give unto the Brahmanas. And Indra desirous of benefiting his own son Phalguni (Arjuna), assuming the form of a Brahmana, approached Vasusena on one occasion and begged of him his natural armour. Thus asked Karna took off his natural armour, and joining his hands in reverence gave it unto Indra in the guise of a Brahmana. And the chief of the celestials accepted the gift and was exceedingly gratified with Karna's liberality. He therefore, gave unto him a fine dart, saying, "That one (and one only) among the celestials, the Asuras, men, the Gandharvas, the Nagas, and the Rakshasas, whom thou desirest to conquer, shall be certainly slain with this dart." "'The son of Surya was before this known by the name of Vasusena. But since he cut off his natural armour, he came to be called Karna (the cutter or peeler of his own cover).'" SECTION CXII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said. 'The large-eyed daughter of Kuntibhoja, Pritha by name, was endued with beauty and every accomplishment. Of rigid vows, she was devoted to virtue and possessed of every good quality. But though endued with beauty and youth and every womanly attribute, yet it so happened that no king asked for her hand. Her father Kuntibhoja seeing this, invited, O best of monarchs, the princes and kings of other countries and desired his daughter to select her husband from among her guests. The intelligent Kunti, entering the amphitheatre, beheld Pandu--the foremost of the Bharatas--that tiger among kings--in that concourse of crowned heads. Proud as the lion, broad-chested, bull-eyed, endued with great strength, and outshining all other monarchs in splendour, he looked like another Indra in that royal assemblage. The amiable daughter of Kuntibhoja, of faultless features, beholding Pandu--that best of men--in that assembly, became very much agitated. And advancing with modesty, all the while quivering with emotion, she placed the nuptial garland about Pandu's neck. The other monarchs, seeing Kunti choose Pandu for her lord, returned to their respective kingdoms on elephants, horses and cars, as they had come. Then, O king, the bride's father caused the nuptial rites to be performed duly. The Kuru prince blessed with great good fortune and the daughter of Kuntibhoja formed a couple like Maghavat and Paulomi (the king and queen of the celestials). And, O best of Kuru monarchs, king Kuntibhoja, after the nuptials were over, presented his son-in-law with much wealth and sent him back to his capital. Then the Kuru prince Pandu, accompanied by a large force bearing various kinds of banners and pennons, and eulogised by Brahmanas and great Rishis pronouncing benedictions, reached his capital. And after arriving at his own palace, he established his queen therein.'" SECTION CXIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'Some time after, Bhishma the intelligent son of Santanu set his heart upon getting Pandu married to a second wife. Accompanied by an army composed of four kinds of force, and also by aged councillors and Brahmanas and great Rishis, he went to the capital of the king of Madra. And that bull of the Valhikas--the king of Madra--hearing that Bhishma had arrived, went out to receive him. And having received him with respect, he got him to enter his palace. Arriving there, the king of Madra offered unto Bhishma a white carpet for a seat, water to wash his feet with, and usual oblation of various ingredients indicative of respect. And when he was seated at ease, the king asked him about the reason of his visit. Then Bhishma--the supporter of the dignity of the Kurus--addressed the king of Madra and said, "O oppressor of all foes, know that I have come for the hand of a maiden. It hath been heard by us that thou hast a sister named Madri celebrated for her beauty and endued with every virtue; I would chose her for Pandu. Thou art, O king, in every respect worthy of an alliance with us, and we also are worthy of thee. Reflecting upon all this, O king of Madra, accept us duly." The ruler of Madra, thus addressed by Bhishma, replied, "To my mind, there is none else than one of thy family with whom I can enter into an alliance. But there is a custom in our family observed by our ancestors, which, be it good or bad, I am incapable of transgressing. It is well-known, and therefore is known to thee as well, I doubt not. Therefore, it is not proper for thee to say to me,--Bestow thy sister. The custom to which I allude is our family custom. With us that is a virtue and worthy of observance. It is for this only, O slayer of foes, I cannot give thee any assurance in the matter of thy request." On hearing this, Bhishma answered the king of Madra, saying, "O king, this, no doubt, is a virtue. The self-create himself hath said it. Thy ancestors were observant of custom. There is no fault to find with it. It is also well-known, O Salya, that this custom in respect of family dignity hath the approval of the wise and the good." Saying this Bhishma of great energy gave unto Salya much gold both coined and uncoined, and precious stones of various colours by thousands, and elephants and horses and cars, and much cloth and many ornaments, and gems and pearls and corals. And Salya accepting with a cheerful heart those precious gifts then gave away his sister decked in ornaments unto that bull of the Kuru race. Then the wise Bhishma, the son of the oceangoing Ganga, rejoiced at the issue of his mission, took Madri with him, and returned to the Kuru capital named after the elephant. "'Then selecting an auspicious day and moment as indicated by the wise for the ceremony, King Pandu was duly united with Madri. And after the nuptials were over, the Kuru king established his beautiful bride in handsome apartments. And, O king of kings, that best of monarchs then gave himself up to enjoyment in the company of his two wives as best he liked and to the limit of his desires. And after thirty days had elapsed, the Kuru king, O monarch, started from his capital for the conquest of the world. And after reverentially saluting and bowing to Bhishma and the other elders of the Kuru race, and with adieus to Dhritarashtra and others of the family, and obtaining their leave, he set out on his grand campaign, accompanied by a large force of elephants, horses, and cars, and well- pleased with the blessings uttered by all around and the auspicious rites performed by the citizens for his success. And Pandu, accompanied by such a strong force marched against various foes. And that tiger among men-- that spreader of the fame of the Kurus--first subjugated the robber tribes of asarna. He next turned his army composed of innumerable elephants, cavalry, infantry, and charioteers, with standards of various colours against Dhirga--the ruler of the kingdom of Maghadha who was proud of his strength, and offended against numerous monarchs. And attacking him in his capital, Pandu slew him there, and took everything in his treasury and also vehicles and draught animals without number. He then marched into Mithila and subjugated the Videhas. And then, O bull among men, Pandu led his army against Kasi, Sumbha, and Pundra, and by the strength and prowess of his arms spread the fame of the Kurus. And Pandu, that oppressor of foes, like unto a mighty fire whose far-reaching flames were represented by his arrows and splendour by his weapons, began to consume all kings that came in contact with him. These with their forces, vanquished by Pandu at the head of his army, were made the vassals of the Kurus. And all kings of the world, thus vanquished by him, regarded him as the one single hero on earth even as the celestials regard Indra in heaven. And the kings of earth with joined palms bowed to him and waited on him with presents of various kinds of gems and wealth, precious stones and pearls and corals, and much gold and silver, and first-class kine and handsome horses and fine cars and elephants, and asses and camels and buffaloes, and goats and sheep, and blankets and beautiful hides, and cloths woven out of furs. And the king of Hastinapura accepting those offerings retraced his steps towards his capital, to the great delight of his subjects. And the citizens and others filled with joy, and kings and ministers, all began to say, "O, the fame of the achievements of Santanu, that tiger among kings, and of the wise Bharata, which were about to die, hath been revived by Pandu. They who robbed before the Kurus of both territory and wealth have been subjugated by Pandu--the tiger of Hastinapura--and made to pay tribute." And all the citizens with Bhishma at their head went out to receive the victorious king. They had not proceeded far when they saw the attendants of the king laden with much wealth, and the train of various conveyances laden with all kinds of wealth, and of elephants, horses, cars, kine, camels and other animals, was so long that they saw not its end. Then Pandu, beholding Bhishma, who was a father to him, worshipped his feet and saluted the citizens and others as each deserved. And Bhishma, too, embracing Pandu as his son who had returned victorious after grinding many hostile kingdoms, wept tears of joy. And Pandu, instilling joy into the hearts of his people with a flourish of trumpets and conchs and kettle- drums, entered his capital.'" SECTION CXIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Pandu, then, at the command of Dhritarashtra, offered the wealth he had acquired by the prowess of his arms to Bhishma, their grand-mother Satyavati and their mothers. And he sent portion of his wealth to Vidura also. And the virtuous Pandu gratified his other relatives also with similar presents. Then Satyavati and Bhishma and the Kosala princes were all gratified with the presents Pandu made out of the acquisitions of his prowess. And Ambalika in particular, upon embracing her son of incomparable prowess, became as glad as the queen of heaven upon embracing Jayanta. And with the wealth acquired by that hero Dhritarashtra performed five great sacrifices that were equal unto a hundred great horse-sacrifices, at all of which the offerings to Brahmanas were by hundreds and thousands. "'A little while after, O bull of Bharata's race, Pandu who had achieved a victory over sloth and lethargy, accompanied by his two wives, Kunti and Madri, retired into the woods. Leaving his excellent palace with its luxurious beds, he became a permanent inhabitant of the woods, devoting the whole of his time to the chase of the deer. And fixing his abode in a delightful and hilly region overgrown with huge sala trees, on the southern slope of the Himavat mountains, he roamed about in perfect freedom. The handsome Pandu with his two wives wandered in those woods like Airavata accompanied by two she-elephants. And the dwellers in those woods, beholding the heroic Bharata prince in the company of his wives, armed with sword, arrows, and bow, clad with his beautiful armour, and skilled in all excellent weapons, regarded him as the very god wandering amongst them. "'And at the command of Dhritarashtra, people were busy in supplying Pandu in his retirement with every object of pleasure and enjoyment. "'Meanwhile the son of the ocean-going Ganga heard that king Devaka had a daughter endued with youth and beauty and begotten upon a Sudra wife. Bringing her from her father's abode, Bhishma married her to Vidura of great wisdom. And Vidura begot upon her many children like unto himself in accomplishments.'" SECTION CXV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Meanwhile, O Janamejaya, Dhritarashtra begat upon Gandhari a hundred sons, and upon a Vaisya wife another besides those hundred. And Pandu had, by his two wives Kunti and Madri, five sons who were great charioteers and who were all begotten by the celestials for the perpetuation of the Kuru line.' "Janamejaya said, 'O best of Brahmanas, how did Gandhari bring forth those hundred sons and in how many years? What were also the periods of life allotted to each? How did Dhritarashtra also beget another son in a Vaisya wife? How did Dhritarashtra behave towards his loving, obedient, and virtuous wife Gandhari? How were also begotten the five sons of Pandu, those mighty charioteers, even though Pandu himself laboured under the curse of the great Rishi (he slew)? Tell me all this in detail, for my thirst for hearing everything relating to my own ancestor hath not been slaked.' "Vaisampayana said, 'One day Gandhari entertained with respectful attention the great Dwaipayana who came to her abode, exhausted with hunger and fatigue. Gratified with Gandhari's hospitality, the Rishi gave her the boon she asked for, viz., that she should have a century of sons each equal unto her lord in strength and accomplishments. Some time after Gandhari conceived and she bore the burden in her womb for two long years without being delivered. And she was greatly afflicted at this. It was then that she heard that Kunti had brought forth a son whose splendour was like unto the morning sun. Impatient of the period of gestation which had prolonged so long, and deprived of reason by grief, she struck her womb with great violence without the knowledge of her husband. And thereupon came out of her womb, after two years' growth, a hard mass of flesh like unto an iron ball. When she was about to throw it away, Dwaipayana, learning everything by his spiritual powers, promptly came there, and that first of ascetics beholding that ball of flesh, addressed the daughter of Suvala thus, "What hast thou done?" Gandhari, without endeavouring to disguise her feelings, addressed the Rishi and said, "Having heard that Kunti had brought forth a son like unto Surya in splendour, I struck in grief at my womb. Thou hadst, O Rishi, granted me the boon that I should have a hundred sons, but here is only a ball of flesh for those hundred sons!" Vyasa then said, "Daughter of Suvala, it is even so. But my words can never be futile. I have not spoken an untruth even in jest. I need not speak of other occasions. Let a hundred pots full of clarified butter be brought instantly, and let them be placed at a concealed spot. In the meantime, let cool water be sprinkled over this ball of flesh."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'That ball of flesh then, sprinkled over with water, became, in time, divided into a hundred and one parts, each about the size of the thumb. These were then put into those pots full of clarified butter that had been placed at a concealed spot and were watched with care. The illustrious Vyasa then said unto the daughter of Suvala that she should open the covers of the pots after full two years. And having said this and made these arrangements, the wise Dwaipayana went to the Himavat mountains for devoting himself to asceticism. "'Then in time, king Duryodhana was born from among those pieces of the ball of flesh that had been deposited in those pots. According to the order of birth, king Yudhishthira was the oldest. The news of Duryodhana's birth was carried to Bhishma and the wise Vidura. The day that the haughty Duryodhana was born was also the birth-day of Bhima of mighty arms and great prowess. "'As soon as Duryodhana was born, he began to cry and bray like an ass. And hearing that sound, the asses, vultures, jackals and crows uttered their respective cries responsively. Violent winds began to blow, and there were fires in various directions. Then king Dhritarashtra in great fear, summoning Bhishma and Vidura and other well-wishers and all the Kurus, and numberless Brahmanas, addressed them and said, "The oldest of those princes, Yudhishthira, is the perpetuator of our line. By virtue of his birth he hath acquired the kingdom. We have nothing to say to this. But shall this my son born after him become king? Tell me truly what is lawful and right under these circumstances." As soon as these words were spoken, O Bharata, jackals and other carnivorous animals began to howl ominously. And marking those frightful omens all around, the assembled Brahmanas and the wise Vidura replied, "O king, O bull among men, when these frightful omens are noticeable at the birth of thy eldest son, it is evident that he shall be the exterminator of thy race. The prosperity of all dependeth on his abandonment. Calamity there must be in keeping him. O king, if thou abandonest him, there remain yet thy nine and ninety sons. If thou desirest the good of thy race, abandon him, O Bharata! O king, do good to the world and thy own race by casting off this one child of thine. It hath been said that an individual should be cast off for the sake of the family; that a family should be cast off for the sake of a village; that a village may be abandoned for the sake of the whole country; and that the earth itself may be abandoned for the sake of the soul." When Vidura and those Brahmanas had stated so, king Dhritarashtra out of affection for his son had not the heart to follow that advice. Then, O king, within a month, were born a full hundred sons unto Dhritarashtra and a daughter also in excess of this hundred. And during the time when Gandhari was in a state of advanced pregnancy, there was a maid servant of the Vaisya class who used to attend on Dhritarashtra. During that year, O king, was begotten upon her by the illustrious Dhritarashtra a son endued with great intelligence who was afterwards named Yuyutsu. And because he was begotten by a Kshatriya upon a Vaisya woman, he came to be called Karna. "'Thus were born unto the wise Dhritarashtra a hundred sons who were all heroes and mighty chariot-fighters, and a daughter over and above the hundred, and another son Yuyutsu of great energy and prowess begotten upon a Vaisya woman.'" SECTION CXVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O sinless one, thou hast narrated to me from the beginning all about the birth of Dhritarashtra's hundred sons owing to the boon granted by the Rishi. But thou hast not told me as yet any particulars about the birth of the daughter. Thou hast merely said that over and above the hundred sons, there was another son named Yuyutsu begotten upon a Vaisya woman, and a daughter. The great Rishi Vyasa of immeasurable energy said unto the daughter of the king of Gandhara that she would become the mother of a hundred sons. Illustrious one, how is that thou sayest Gandhari had a daughter over and above her hundred sons? If the ball of flesh was distributed by the great Rishi only into a hundred parts, and if Gandhari did not conceive on any other occasion, how was then Duhsala born. Tell me this, O Rishi! my curiosity hath been great.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O descendant of the Pandavas, thy question is just, and I will tell thee how it happened. The illustrious and great Rishi himself, by sprinkling water over that ball of flesh, began to divide it into parts. And as it was being divided into parts, the nurse began to take them up and put them one by one into those pots filled with clarified butter. While this process was going on, the beautiful and chaste Gandhari of rigid vows, realising the affection that one feeleth for a daughter, began to think within herself, "There is no doubt that I shall have a hundred sons, the Muni having said so. It can never be otherwise. But I should be very happy if a daughter were born of me over and above these hundred sons and junior to them all. My husband then may attain to those worlds that the possession of a daughter's sons conferreth. Then again, the affection the women feel for their sons-in-law is great. If, therefore, I obtain a daughter over and above my hundred sons, then, surrounded by sons and daughter's sons, I may feel supremely blest. If I have ever practised ascetic austerities, if I have ever given anything in charity, if I have ever performed the homa (through Brahamanas), if I have ever gratified my superiors by respectful attentions, then (as the fruit of those acts) let a daughter be born unto me." All this while that illustrious and best of Rishis, Krishna-Dwaipayana himself was dividing the ball of flesh; and counting a full hundred of the parts, he said unto the daughter of Suvala, "Here are thy hundred sons. I did not speak aught unto thee that was false. Here, however, is one part in excess of the hundred, intended for giving thee a daughter's son. This part shall develop into an amiable and fortunate daughter, as thou hast desired." Then that great ascetic brought another pot full of clarified butter, and put the part intended for a daughter into it. "'Thus have I, O Bharata, narrated unto thee all about the birth of Duhsala. Tell me, O sinless one, what more I am now to narrate.'" SECTION CXVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'Please recite the names of Dhritarashtra's sons according to the order of their birth.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Their names, O king, according to the order of birth, are Duryodhana, Yuyutsu, Duhsasana, Duhsaha, Duhsala, Jalasandha, Sama, Saha, Vinda and Anuvinda, Durdharsha, Suvahu, Dushpradharshana, Durmarshana and Durmukha, Dushkarna, and Karna; Vivinsati and Vikarna, Sala, Satwa, Sulochana, Chitra and Upachitra, Chitraksha, Charuchitra, Sarasana, Durmada and Durvigaha, Vivitsu, Vikatanana; Urnanabha and Sunabha, then Nandaka and Upanandaka; Chitravana, Chitravarman, Suvarman, Durvimochana; Ayovahu, Mahavahu, Chitranga, Chitrakundala, Bhimavega, Bhimavala, Balaki, Balavardhana, Ugrayudha; Bhima, Karna, Kanakaya, Dridhayudha, Dridhavarman, Dridhakshatra, Somakitri, Anudara; Dridhasandha, Jarasandha, Satyasandha, Sada, Suvak, Ugrasravas, Ugrasena, Senani, Dushparajaya, Aparajita, Kundasayin, Visalaksha, Duradhara; Dridhahasta, Suhasta, Vatavega, and Suvarchas; Adityaketu, Vahvashin, Nagadatta, Agrayayin; Kavachin, Krathana, Kunda, Kundadhara, Dhanurdhara; the heroes, Ugra and Bhimaratha, Viravahu, Alolupa; Abhaya, and Raudrakarman, and Dridharatha; Anadhrishya, Kundabhedin, Viravi, Dhirghalochana Pramatha, and Pramathi and the powerful Dhirgharoma; Dirghavahu, Mahavahu, Vyudhoru, Kanakadhvaja; Kundasi and Virajas. Besides these hundred sons, there was a daughter named Duhsala. All were heroes and Atirathas, and were well- skilled in warfare. All were learned in the Vedas, and all kinds of weapons. And, O, king, worthy wives were in time selected for all of them by Dhritarashtra after proper examination. And king Dhritarashtra, O monarch, also bestowed Duhsala, in proper time and with proper rites, upon Jayadratha (the king of Sindhu).'" SECTION CXVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O utterer of Brahma, thou hast recited (everything about) the extraordinary birth among men, of the sons of Dhritarashtra in consequence of the Rishi's grace. Thou hast also said what their names are, according to the order of their birth. O Brahmana, I have heard all these from thee. But tell me now all about the Pandavas. While reciting the incarnations on earth of the celestial, the Asuras, and the beings of other classes, thou saidst that the Pandavas were all illustrious and endued with the prowess of gods, and that they were incarnate portion of the celestials themselves. I desire, therefore, to hear all about those beings of extraordinary achievements beginning from the moment of their birth. O Vaisampayana, recite thou their achievements.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O king, one day Pandu, while roaming about in the woods (on the southern slopes of the Himavat) that teemed with deer and wild animals of fierce disposition, saw a large deer, that seemed to be the leader of a herd, serving his mate. Beholding the animals, the monarch pierced them both with five of his sharp and swift arrows winged with golden feathers. O monarch, that was no deer that Pandu struck at, but a Rishi's son of great ascetic merit who was enjoying his mate in the form of a deer. Pierced by Pandu, while engaged in the act of intercourse, he fell down to the ground, uttering cries that were of a man and began to weep bitterly. "'The deer then addressed Pandu and said, "O king, even men that are slaves to lust and wrath, and void of reason, and ever sinful, never commit such a cruel act as this. Individual judgment prevaileth not against the ordinance, the ordinance prevaileth against individual judgment. The wise never sanction anything discountenanced by the ordinance. Thou art born, O Bharata, in a race that hath ever been virtuous. How is it, therefore, that even thou, suffering thyself to be overpowered by passion and wrath losest thy reason?" Hearing this, Pandu replied, "O deer, kings behave in the matter of slaying animals of thy species exactly as they do in the matter of slaying foes. It behoveth thee not, therefore, to reprove me thus from ignorance. Animals of thy species are slain by open or covert means. This, indeed, is the practice of kings. Then why dost thou reprove me? Formerly, the Rishi Agastya, while engaged in the performance of a grand sacrifice, chased the deer, and devoted every deer in the forest unto the gods in general. Thou hast been slain, pursuant to the usage sanctioned by such precedent. Wherefore reprovest us then? For his especial sacrifices Agastya performed the homa with fat of the deer." "'The deer then said, "O king, men do not let fly their arrows at their enemies when the latter are unprepared. But there is a time for doing it (viz., after declaration of hostilities). Slaughter at such a time is not censurable." "'Pandu replied, "It is well-known that men slay deer by various effective means without regarding whether the animals are careful or careless. Therefore, O deer, why dost thou reprove me?" "'The deer then said, "O, king, I did not blame thee for thy having killed a deer, or for the injury thou hast done to me. But, instead of acting so cruelly, thou shouldst have waited till the completion of my act of intercourse. What man of wisdom and virtue is there that can kill a deer while engaged in such an act? The time of sexual intercourse is agreeable to every creature and productive of good to all. O king, with this my mate I was engaged in the gratification of my sexual desire. But that effort of mine hath been rendered futile by thee. O king of the Kurus, as thou art born in the race of the Pauravas ever noted for white (virtuous) deeds, such an act hath scarcely been worthy of thee. O Bharata, this act must be regarded as extremely cruel, deserving of universal execration, infamous, and sinful, and certainly leading to hell. Thou art acquainted with the pleasures of sexual intercourse. Thou art acquainted also with the teaching of morality and dictates of duty. Like unto a celestial as thou art, it behoveth thee not to do such an act as leadeth to hell. O best of kings, thy duty is to chastise all who act cruelly, who are engaged in sinful practices and who have thrown to the winds religion, profit, and pleasure as explained in the scriptures. What hast thou done, O best of men, in killing me who have given thee no offence? I am, O king, a Muni who liveth on fruits and roots, though disguised as a deer. I was living in the woods in peace with all. Yet thou hast killed me, O king, for which I will curse thee certainly. As thou hast been cruel unto a couple of opposite sexes, death shall certainly overtake thee as soon as thou feelest the influence of sexual desire. I am a Muni of the name of Kindama, possessed of ascetic merit. I was engaged in sexual intercourse with this deer, because my feelings of modesty did not permit me to indulge in such an act in human society. In the form of a deer I rove in the deep woods in the company of other deer. Thou hast slain me without knowing that I am a Brahmana, the sin of having slain a Brahmana shall not, therefore, be thine. But senseless man, as you have killed me, disguised as a deer, at such a time, thy fate shall certainly be even like mine. When, approaching thy wife lustfully, thou wilt unite with her even as I had done with mine, in that very state shalt thou have to go to the world of the spirits. And that wife of thine with whom thou mayst be united in intercourse at the time of thy death shall also follow thee with affection and reverence to the domains of the king of the dead. Thou hast brought me grief when I was happy. So shall grief come to thee when thou art in happiness."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Saying this, that deer, afflicted with grief gave up the ghost; and Pandu also was plunged in woe at the sight.'" SECTION CXIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After the death of that deer, king Pandu with his wives was deeply afflicted and wept bitterly. And he exclaimed, "The wicked, even if born in virtuous families, deluded by their own passions, become overwhelmed with misery as the fruit of their own deeds. I have heard that my father, though begotten by Santanu of virtuous soul, was cut off while still a youth, only because he had become a slave to his lust. In the soil of that lustful king, the illustrious Rishi Krishna-Dwaipayana himself, of truthful speech, begot me. A son though I am of such a being, with my wicked heart wedded to vice, I am yet leading a wandering life in the woods in the chase of the deer. Oh, the very gods have forsaken me! I shall seek salvation now. The great impediments to salvation are the desire to beget children, and other concerns of the world. I shall now adopt the Brahmacharya mode of life and follow in the imperishable wake of my father. I shall certainly bring my passions under complete control by severe ascetic penances. Forsaking my wives and other relatives and shaving my head, alone shall I wander over the earth, begging for my subsistence from each of these trees standing here. Forsaking every object of affection and aversion, and covering my body with dust, I shall make the shelter of trees or deserted houses my home. I shall never yield to influence of sorrow or joy, and I shall regard slander and eulogy in the same light. I shall not seek benedictions or bows. I shall be at peace with all, and shall not accept gifts. I shall not mock anybody, nor shall I knit my brows at any one, but shall be ever cheerful and devoted to the good of all creatures. I shall not harm any of the four orders of life gifted with power of locomotion or otherwise, viz., oviparous and viviparous creatures and worms and vegetables. But on the contrary, preserve an equality of behaviour towards all, as if they were, my own children. Once a day shall I beg of five or ten families at the most, and if I do not succeed in obtaining alms, I shall then go without food. I shall rather stint myself than beg more than once of the same person. If I do not obtain anything after completing my round of seven or ten houses, moved by covetousness, I shall not enlarge my round. Whether I obtain or fail to obtain alms, I shall be equally unmoved like a great ascetic. One lopping off an arm of mine with a hatchet, and one smearing another arm with sandal-paste, shall be regarded by me equally. I shall not wish prosperity to the one or misery to the other. I shall not be pleased with life or displeased with death. I shall neither desire to live nor to die. Washing my heart of all sins, I shall certainly transcend those sacred rites productive of happiness, that men perform in auspicious moments, days, and periods. I shall also abstain from all acts of religion and profit and also those that lead to the gratification of the senses. Freed from all sins and snares of the world, I shall be like the wind subject to none. Following the path of fearlessness and bearing myself in this way I shall at last lay down my life. Destitute of the power of begetting children, firmly adhering to the line of duty I shall not certainly deviate therefrom in order to tread in the vile path of the world that is so full of misery. Whether respected or disrespected in the world that man who from covetousness casteth on others a begging look, certainly behaveth like a dog. (Destitute as I am of the power of procreation, I should not certainly, from desire of offspring, solicit others to give me children.)"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The king, having thus wept in sorrow, with a sigh looked at his two wives Kunti and Madri, and addressing them said, "Let the princess of Kosala (my mother), Vidura, the king with our friends, the venerable Satyavati, Bhishma, the priests of our family, illustrious Soma-drinking Brahmanas of rigid vows and all elderly citizens depending on us be informed, after being prepared for it, that Pandu hath retired into the woods to lead a life of asceticism." Hearing these words of their lord who had set his heart on a life of asceticism in the woods, both Kunti and Madri addressed him in these proper words, "O bull of Bharata's race, there are many other modes of life which thou canst adopt and in which thou canst undergo the severest penances along with us, thy wedded wives--in which for the salvation of thy body (freedom from re-birth), thou mayest obtain heaven. We also, in the company of our lord, and for his benefit, controlling our passions and bidding adieu to all luxuries, shall subject ourselves to the severest austerities. O king, O thou of great wisdom, if thou abandonest us, we shall then this very day truly depart from this world." "'Pandu replied, "If, indeed, this your resolve springeth from virtue, then with you both I shall follow the imperishable path of my fathers. Abandoning the luxuries of cities and towns, clad in barks of trees, and living on fruits and roots, I shall wander in deep woods, practising the severest penances. Bathing morning and evening, I shall perform the homa. I shall reduce my body by eating very sparingly and shall wear rags and skins and knotted locks on my head. Exposing myself to heat and cold and disregarding hunger and thirst, I shall reduce my body by severe ascetic penances. I shall live in solitude and I shall give myself up to contemplation; I shall eat fruit, ripe or green, that I may find. I shall offer oblations to the Pitris (manes) and the gods with speech, water and the fruits of the wilderness. I shall not see, far less harm, any of the denizens of the woods, or any of my relatives, or any of the residents of cities and towns. Until I lay down this body, I shall thus practise the severe ordinances of the Vanaprastha scriptures, always searching for severer ones that they may contain."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The Kuru king, having said this unto his wives, gave away to Brahmanas the big jewel in his diadem, his necklace of precious gold, his bracelets, his large ear-rings, his valuable robes and all the ornaments of his wives. Then summoning his attendants, he commended them, saying, "Return ye to Hastinapura and proclaim unto all that Pandu with his wives hath gone into the woods, foregoing wealth, desire, happiness, and even sexual appetite." Then those followers and attendants, hearing these and other soft words of the king, set up a loud wail, uttering, "Oh, we are undone!" Then with hot tears trickling down their cheeks they left the monarch and returned to Hastinapura with speed carrying that wealth with them (that was to be distributed in charity). Then Dhritarashtra, that first of men, hearing from them everything that had happened in the woods, wept for his brother. He brooded over his affliction continually, little relishing the comfort of beds and seats and dishes. "'Meanwhile, the Kuru prince Pandu (after sending away his attendants) accompanied by his two wives and eating fruits and roots went to the mountains of Nagasata. He next went to Chaitraratha, and then crossed the Kalakuta, and finally, crossing the Himavat, he arrived at Gandhamadana. Protected by Mahabhutas, Siddhas, and great Rishis, Pandu lived, O king, sometimes on level ground and sometimes on mountain slopes. He then journeyed on to the lake of Indradyumna, whence crossing the mountains of Hansakuta, he went to the mountain of hundred peaks (Sata-sringa) and there continued to practise ascetic austerities.'" SECTION CXX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Pandu, possessed of great energy, then devoted himself to asceticism. Within a short time he became the favourite of the whole body of the Siddhas and Charanas residing there. And, O Bharata, devoted to the service of his spiritual masters, free from vanity, with mind under complete control and the passions fully subdued, the prince, becoming competent to enter heaven by his own energy, attained to great (ascetic) prowess. Some of the Rishis would call him brother, some friend, while others cherished him as their son. And, O bull of Bharata's race, having acquired after a long time great ascetic merit coupled with complete singleness, Pandu became even like a Brahmarshi (though he was a Kshatriya by birth). "'On a certain day of the new moon, the great Rishis of rigid vows assembled together, and desirous of beholding Brahman were on the point of starting on their expedition. Seeing them about to start, Pandu asked those ascetics, saying, "Ye first of eloquent men, where shall we go?" The Rishis answered, "There will be a great gathering today, in the abode of Brahman, of celestials, Rishis and Pitris. Desirous of beholding the Self- create we shall go there today."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing this, Pandu rose up suddenly, desirous of visiting heaven along with the great Rishis. Accompanied by his two wives, when he was on the point of following the Rishis in the northerly direction from the mountain of hundred peaks, those ascetics addressed him saying, "In our northward march, while gradually ascending the king of mountains, we have seen on its delightful breast many regions inaccessible to ordinary mortals; retreats also of the gods, and Gandharvas and Apsaras, with palatial mansions by hundreds clustering thick around and resounding with the sweet notes of celestial music, the gardens of Kuvera laid out on even and uneven grounds, banks of mighty rivers, and deep caverns. There are many regions also on those heights that are covered with perpetual snow and are utterly destitute of vegetable and animal existence. In some places the downpour of rain is so heavy that they are perfectly inaccessible and incapable of being utilised for habitation. Not to speak of other animals, even winged creatures cannot cross them. The only thing that can go there is air, and the only beings, Siddhas and great Rishis. How shall these princesses ascend those heights of the king of mountains? Unaccustomed to pain, shall they not droop in affliction? Therefore, come not with us, O bull of Bharata's race!" "'Pandu replied, "Ye fortunate ones, it is said that for the sonless there is no admittance into heaven. I am sonless! In affliction I speak unto you! I am afflicted because I have not been able to discharge the debt I owe to my ancestors. It is certain that with the dissolution of this my body my ancestors perish! Men are born on this earth with four debts, viz. those due unto the (deceased) ancestors, the gods, the Rishis, and other men. In justice these must be discharged. The wise have declared that no regions of bliss exist for them that neglect to pay these debts in due time. The gods are paid (gratified) by sacrifices, the Rishis, by study, meditation, and asceticism, the (deceased) ancestors, by begetting children and offering the funeral cake, and lastly other men, by leading a humane and inoffensive life. I have justly discharged my obligations to the Rishis, the gods, and other men. But those others than these three are sure to perish with the dissolution of my body! Ye ascetics, I am not yet freed from the debt I owe to my (deceased) ancestors. The best of men are born in this world to beget children for discharging that debt. I would ask you, should children be begotten in my soil (upon my wives) as I myself was begotten in the soil of my father by the eminent Rishi?" "'The Rishis said, "O king of virtuous soul, there is progeny in store for thee, that is sinless and blest with good fortune and like unto the gods. We behold it all with our prophetic eyes. Therefore, O tiger among men, accomplish by your own acts that which destiny pointeth at. Men of intelligence, acting with deliberation, always obtain good fruits; it behoveth thee, therefore, O king, to exert thyself. The fruits thou wouldst obtain are distinctly visible. Thou wouldst really obtain accomplished and agreeable progeny."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of the ascetics, Pandu, remembering the loss of his procreative powers owing to the curse of the deer, began to reflect deeply. And calling his wedded wife the excellent Kunti, unto him, he told her in private, "Strive thou to raise offspring at this time of distress. The wise expounders of the eternal religion declare that a son, O Kunti, is the cause of virtuous fame in the three worlds. It is said that sacrifices, charitable gifts, ascetic penances, and vows observed most carefully, do not confer religious merit on a sonless man. O thou of sweet smiles, knowing all this, I am certain that as I am sonless, I shall not obtain regions of true felicity. O timid one, wretch that I was and addicted to cruel deeds, as a consequence of the polluted life I led, my power of procreation hath been destroyed by the curse of the deer. The religious institutes mention six kinds of sons that are heirs and kinsmen, and six other kinds that are not heirs but kinsmen. I shall speak of them presently. O Pritha, listen to me. They are: 1st, the son begotten by one's own self upon his wedded wife; 2nd, the son begotten upon one's wife by an accomplished person from motives of kindness; 3rd, the son begotten upon one's wife by a person for pecuniary consideration; 4th, the son begotten upon the wife after the husband's death; 5th, the maiden-born son; 6th, the son born of an unchaste wife; 7th, the son given; 8th, the son bought for a consideration; 9th, the son self-given; 10th, the son received with a pregnant bride; 11th, the brother's son; and 12th, the son begotten upon a wife of lower caste. On failure of offspring of a prior class, the mother should desire to have offspring of the next class. In times of distress, men solicit offspring from accomplished younger brothers. The self-born Manu hath said that men failing to have legitimate offspring of their own may have offspring begotten upon their wives by others, for sons confer the highest religious merit. Therefore, O Kunti, being destitute myself of the power of procreation, I command thee to raise good offspring through some person who is either equal or superior to me. O Kunti, listen to the history of the daughter of Saradandayana who was appointed by her lord to raise offspring. That warrior-dame, when her monthly season arrived, bathed duly and in the night went out and waited on a spot where four roads met. She did not wait long when a Brahmana crowned with ascetic success came there. The daughter of Saradandayana solicited him for offspring. After pouring libations of clarified butter on the fire (in the performance of the sacrifice known by the name of Punsavana) she brought forth three sons that were mighty car-warriors and of whom Durjaya was the eldest, begotten upon her by that Brahmana. O thou of good fortune, do thou follow that warrior-dame's example at my command, and speedily raise offspring out of the seed of some Brahmana of high ascetic merit."'" SECTION CXXI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed, Kunti replied unto her heroic lord, king Pandu, that bull amongst the Kurus, saying, "O virtuous one, it behoveth thee not to say so unto me. I am, O thou lotus-eyed one, thy wedded wife, devoted to thee. O, Bharata of mighty arms, thyself shalt, in righteousness, beget upon me children endued with great energy. Then I shall ascend to heaven with thee; O prince of Kuru's race, receive me in thy embrace for begetting children. I shall not certainly, even in imagination, accept any other man except thee in my embraces. What other man is there in this world superior to thee? O virtuous one, listen to this Pauranic narrative that hath been, O thou of large eyes, heard by me, and that I shall presently narrate. "'"There was, in ancient times, a king in the race of Puru, known by the name of Vyushitaswa. He was devoted to truth and virtue. Of virtuous soul and mighty arms, on one occasion, while he was performing a sacrifice the gods with Indra and the great Rishis came to him, and Indra was so intoxicated with the Soma juice he drank and the Brahmanas with the large presents they received, that both the gods and the great Rishis began themselves to perform everything appertaining to that sacrifice of the illustrious royal sage. And thereupon Vyushitaswa began to shine above all men like the Sun appearing in double splendour after the season of frost is over. And the powerful Vyushitaswa, who was endued with the strength of ten elephants very soon performed the horse-sacrifice, overthrowing, O best of monarchs, all the kings of the East, the North, the West and the South, and exacted tributes from them all. There is an anecdote, O best of the Kurus, that is sung by all reciters of the Puranas, in connection with that first of all men, the illustrious Vyushitaswa.--Having conquered the whole Earth up to the coast of the sea, Vyushitaswa protected every class of his subjects as a father does his own begotten sons.--Performing many great sacrifices he gave away much wealth to the Brahmanas. After collecting unlimited jewels and precious stones he made arrangements for performing still greater ones. And he performed also the Agnishtoma, and other special Vedic sacrifices, extracting great quantities of Soma juice. And, O king, Vyushitaswa had for his dear wife, Bhadra, the daughter of Kakshivat, unrivalled for beauty on earth. And it hath been heard by us that the couple loved each other deeply. King Vyushitaswa was seldom separated from his wife. Sexual excess, however, brought on an attack of phthisis and the king died within a few days, sinking like the Sun in his glory. Then Bhadra, his beautiful queen, was plunged into woe, and as she was sonless, O tiger among men, she wept in great affliction. Listen to me, O king, as I narrate to you all that Bhadra said with bitter tears trickling down her cheeks. 'O virtuous one', she said, 'Women serve no purpose when their husbands are dead. She who liveth after her husband is dead, draggeth on a miserable existence that can hardly be called life. O bull of the Kshatriya order, death is a blessing to women without husbands. I wish to follow the way thou hast gone. Be kind and take me with thee. In thy absence, I am unable to bear life even for a moment. Be kind to me, O king and take me hence pretty soon. O tiger among men, I shall follow thee over the even and uneven ground. Thou hast gone away, O lord, never to return. I shall follow thee, O king, as thy own shadow. O tiger among men, I will obey thee (as thy slave) and will ever do what is agreeable to thee and what is for thy good. O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, without thee, from this day, mental agonies will overwhelm me and eat into my heart. A wretch that I am, some loving couple had doubtless been separated by me in a former life, for which, in this life, I am made to suffer the pangs of separation from thee. O king, that wretched woman who liveth even for a moment separated from her lord, liveth in woe and suffereth the pangs of hell even here. Some loving couple had doubtless been separated by me in a former life, for which sinful act I am suffering this torture arising from my separation from thee. O king, from this day I will lay myself down on a bed of Kusa grass and abstain from every luxury, hoping to behold thee once more. O tiger among men, show thyself to me. O king, O lord, command once more thy wretched and bitterly weeping wife plunged in woe.'" "'Kunti continued, "It was thus, O Pandu, that the beautiful Bhadra wept over the death of her lord. And the weeping Bhadra clasped in her arms the corpse in anguish of heart. Then she was addressed by an incorporeal voice in these words, "Rise up, O Bhadra, and leave this place. O thou of sweet smiles, I grant thee this boon. I will beget offspring upon thee. Lie thou down with me on thy own bed, after the catamenial bath, on the night of the eighth or the fourteenth day of the moon." Thus addressed by the incorporeal voice, the chaste Bhadra did as she was directed, for obtaining offspring. And, O bull of the Bharatas, the corpse of her husband begat upon her seven children viz., three Salwas and four Madras. O bull of the Bharatas, do thou also beget offspring upon me, like the illustrious Vyushitaswa, by the exercise of that ascetic power which thou possessest.'" SECTION CXXII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by his loving wife, king Pandu, well- acquainted with all rules of morality, replied in these words of virtuous import, "O Kunti, what thou hast said is quite true. Vyushitaswa of old did even as thou hast said. Indeed he was equal unto the celestials themselves. But I shall now tell thee about the practices of old indicated by illustrious Rishis, fully acquainted with every rule of morality. O thou of handsome face and sweet smiles, women formerly were not immured within houses and dependent on husbands and other relatives. They used to go about freely, enjoying themselves as best as they liked. O thou of excellent qualities, they did not then adhere to their husbands faithfully, and yet, O handsome one, they were not regarded sinful, for that was the sanctioned usage of the times. That very usage is followed to this day by birds and beasts without any (exhibition of) jealousy. That practice, sanctioned by precedent, is applauded by great Rishis. O thou of tapering thighs, the practice is yet regarded with respect amongst the Northern Kurus. Indeed, that usage, so lenient to women, hath the sanction of antiquity. The present practice, however (of women's being confined to one husband for life) hath been established but lately. I shall tell thee in detail who established it and why. "'"It hath been heard by us that there was a great Rishi of the name of Uddalaka, who had a son named Swetaketu who also was an ascetic of merit. O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, the present virtuous practice hath been established by that Swetaketu from anger. Hear thou the reason. One day, in the presence of Swetaketu's father a Brahmana came and catching Swetaketu's mother by the hand, told her, 'Let us go.' Beholding his mother seized by the hand and taken away apparently by force, the son was greatly moved by wrath. Seeing his son indignant, Uddalaka addressed him and said, 'Be not angry, O son! This is the practice sanctioned by antiquity. The women of all orders in this world are free, O son; men in this matter, as regards their respective orders, act as kine.' The Rishi's son, Swetaketu, however, disapproved of the usage and established in the world the present practice as regards men and women. It hath been heard by us, O thou of great virtue, that the existing practice dates from that period among human beings but not among beings of other classes. Accordingly, since the establishment of the present usage, it is sinful for women not to adhere to their husbands. Women transgressing the limits assigned by the Rishi became guilty of slaying the embryo. And, men, too, violating a chaste and loving wife who hath from her maidenhood observed the vow of purity, became guilty of the same sin. The woman also who, being commanded by her husband to raise offspring, refuses to do his bidding, becometh equally sinful. "'"Thus, O timid one, was the existing usage established of old by Swetaketu, the son of Uddalaka, in defiance of antiquity. O thou of tapering thighs, it hath also been heard by us that Madayanti, the wife of Saudasa, commanded by her husband to raise offspring went unto Rishi Vasishtha. And on going in unto him, the handsome Madayanti obtained a son named Asmaka. She did this, moved by the desire of doing good to her husband. O thou of lotus-eyes, thou knowest, O timid girl, how we ourselves, for the perpetuation of the Kuru race, were begotten by Krishna-Dwaipayana. O faultless one, beholding all these precedents it behoveth thee to do my bidding, which is not inconsistent with virtue. O princess, who is devoted to her husband, it hath also been said by those acquainted with the rules of morality that a wife, when her monthly season cometh, must ever seek her husband, though at other times she deserveth liberty. The wise have declared this to be the ancient practice. But, be the act sinful or sinless, those acquainted with the Vedas have declared that it is the duty of wives to do what their husbands bid them do. Especially, O thou of faultless features, I, who am deprived of the power of procreation, having yet become desirous of beholding offspring, deserve the more to be obeyed by thee. O amiable one, joining my palms furnished with rosy fingers, and making of them a cup as of lotus leaves, I place them on my head to propitiate thee. O thou of fair looks, it behoveth thee to raise offspring, at my command, through some Brahmana possessed of high ascetic merit. For then, owing to thee, O thou of fair hips, I may go the way that is reserved for those that are blessed with children." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Pandu, that subjugator of hostile cities, the handsome Kunti, ever attentive to what was agreeable and beneficial to her lord, then replied unto him, saying, "In my girlhood, O lord, I was in my father's house engaged in attending upon all guests. I used to wait respectfully upon Brahmanas of rigid vows and great ascetic merit. One day I gratified with my attentions that Brahmana whom people call Durvasa, of mind under full control and possessing knowledge of all the mysteries of religion. Pleased with my services, that Brahmana gave me a boon in the form of a mantra (formula of invocation) for calling into my presence any one of the celestials I liked. And the Rishi, addressing me, said, 'Anyone among the celestials whom thou callest by this shall, O girl, approach thee and be obedient to thy will, whether he liketh it or not. And, O princess, thou shall also have offspring through his grace.' O Bharata, that Brahmana told me this when I lived in my father's house. The words uttered by the Brahmana can never be false. The time also hath come when they may yield fruit. Commanded by thee, O royal sage, I can by that mantra summon any of the celestials, so that we may have good children. O foremost of all truthful men, tell me which of the celestials I shall summon. Know that, as regards this matter, I await your commands." "'Hearing this, Pandu replied, "O handsome one, strive duly this very day to gratify our wishes. Fortunate one, summon thou the god of justice. He is the most virtuous of the celestials. The god of justice and virtue will never be able to pollute us with sin. The world also, O beautiful princess, will then think that what we do can never be unholy. The son also that we shall obtain from him shall in virtue be certainly the foremost among the Kurus. Begotten by the god of justice and morality, he would never set his heart upon anything that is sinful or unholy. Therefore, O thou of sweet smiles, steadily keeping virtue before thy eyes, and duly observing holy vows, summon thou the god of justice and virtue by the help of thy solicitations and incantations."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Kunti, that best of women, thus addressed by her lord, said, "So be it." And bowing down to him and reverently circumambulating his person, she resolved to do his bidding.'" SECTION CXXIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'O Janamejaya, when Gandhari's conception had been a full year old, it was then that Kunti summoned the eternal god of justice to obtain offspring from him. And she offered without loss of time, sacrifices unto the god and began to duly repeat the formula that Durvasa had imparted to her some time before. Then the god, overpowered by her incantations, arrived at the spot where Kunti was seated in his car resplendent as the Sun. Smiling, he asked, "O Kunti, what am I to give thee?" And Kunti too smiling in her turn, replied, "Thou must even give me offspring." Then the handsome Kunti was united (in intercourse) with the god of justice in his spiritual form and obtained from him a son devoted to the good of all creatures. And she brought his excellent child, who lived to acquire a great fame, at the eighth Muhurta called Abhijit, of the hour of noon of that very auspicious day of the seventh month (Kartika), viz., the fifth of the lighted fortnight, when the star Jyeshtha in conjunction with the moon was ascendant. And as soon as the child was born, an incorporeal voice (from the skies) said, "This child shall be the best of men, the foremost of those that are virtuous. Endued with great prowess and truthful in speech, he shall certainly be the ruler of the earth. And this first child of Pandu shall be known by the name of Yudhishthira. Possessed of prowess and honesty of disposition, he shall be a famous king, known throughout the three worlds." "'Pandu, having obtained that virtuous son, again addressed his wife and said, "The wise have declared that a Kshatriya must be endued with physical strength, otherwise he is no Kshatriya. Therefore, ask thou for an offspring of superior strength." Thus commanded by her lord, Kunti then invoked Vayu. And the mighty god of wind, thus invoked, came unto her, riding upon a deer, and said, "What, O Kunti, am I to give thee? Tell me what is in thy heart." Smiling in modesty, she said to him, "Give me, O best of celestials, a child endued with great strength and largeness of limbs and capable of humbling the pride of every body." The god of wind thereupon begat upon her the child afterwards known as Bhima of mighty arms and fierce prowess. And upon the birth of that child endued with extraordinary strength, an incorporeal voice, O Bharata, as before, said, "This child shall be the foremost of all endued with strength." I must tell you, O Bharata, of another wonderful event that occurred after the birth of Vrikodara (Bhima). While he fell from the lap of his mother upon the mountain breast, the violence of the fall broke into fragments the stone upon which he fell without his infant body being injured in the least. And he fell from his mother's lap because Kunti, frightened by a tiger, had risen up suddenly, unconscious of the child that lay asleep on her lap. And as she had risen, the infant, of body hard as the thunderbolt, falling down upon the mountain breast, broke into a hundred fragments the rocky mass upon which he fell. And beholding this, Pandu wondered much. And it so happened that that very day on which Vrikodara was born, was also, O best of Bharatas, the birthday of Duryodhana who afterwards became the ruler of the whole earth. "'After the birth of Vrikodara, Pandu again began to think, "How am I to obtain a very superior son who shall achieve world-wide fame? Every thing in the world dependeth on destiny and exertion. But destiny can never be successful except by timely exertion. We have heard it said that Indra is the chief of the gods. Indeed, he is endued with immeasurable might and energy and prowess and glory. Gratifying him with my asceticism, I shall obtain from him a son of great strength. Indeed, the son he giveth me must be superior to all and capable of vanquishing in battle all men and creatures other than men. I shall, therefore, practise the severest austerities, with heart, deed and speech." "'After this, the Kuru king Pandu, taking counsel with the great Rishis commanded Kunti to observe an auspicious vow for one full year, while he himself commenced, O Bharata, to stand upon one leg from morning to evening, and practise other severe austerities with mind rapt in meditation, for gratifying the lord of the celestials. "'It was after a long time that Indra (gratified with such devotion) approached Pandu and, addressing him, said, "I shall give thee, O king, a son who will be celebrated all over the three worlds and who will promote the welfare of Brahmanas, kine and all honest men. The son I shall give thee will be the smiter of the wicked and the delight of friends and relatives. Foremost of all men, he will be an irresistible slayer of all foes." Thus addressed by Vasava (the king of the celestials), the virtuous king of the Kuru race, well-recollecting those words, said unto Kunti, "O fortunate one, thy vow hath become successful. The lord of the celestials hath been gratified, and is willing to give thee a son such as thou desirest, of superhuman achievements and great fame. He will be the oppressor of all enemies and possessed of great wisdom. Endued with a great soul, in splendour equal unto the Sun, invincible in battles, and of great achievements, he will also be extremely handsome. O thou of fair hips and sweet smiles, the lord of the celestials hath become gracious to thee. Invoking him, bring thou forth a child who will be the very home of all Kshatriya virtues."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The celebrated Kunti, thus addressed by her lord, invoked Sakra (the king of the gods) who thereupon came unto her and begat him that was afterwards called Arjuna. And as soon as this child was born, an incorporeal voice, loud and deep as that of the clouds and filling the whole welkin, distinctly said, addressing Kunti in the hearing of every creature dwelling in that asylum, "This child of thine, O Kunti, will be equal unto Kartavirya in energy and Siva in prowess. Invincible like Sakra himself he will spread thy fame far and wide. As Vishnu (the youngest of Aditi's sons) had enhanced Aditi's joy, so shall this child enhance thy joy. Subjugating the Madras, the Kurus along with the Somakas, and the people of Chedi, Kasi and Karusha, he will maintain the prosperity of the Kurus. (Surfeited with libations at the sacrifice of king Swetaketu), Agni will derive great gratification from the fat of all creatures dwelling in the Khandava woods (to be burnt down) by the might of this one's arms. This mighty hero, vanquishing all the monarchs of the earth, will with his brothers perform three great sacrifices. In prowess, O Kunti, he will be even as Jamadagnya or Vishnu. The foremost of all men endued with prowess, he will achieve great fame. He will gratify in battle (by his heroism) Sankara, the god of gods (Mahadeva), and will receive from him the great weapon named Pasupata. This thy son of mighty arms will also slay, at the command of Indra, those Daityas called the Nivatakavachas who are the enemies of the gods. He will also acquire all kinds of celestial weapons, and this bull among men will also retrieve the fortunes of his race." "'Kunti heard these extraordinary words, while lying in the room. And hearing those words uttered so loudly, the ascetics dwelling on the mountain of a hundred peaks, and the celestials with Indra sitting in their cars, became exceedingly glad. The sounds of the (invisible) drum filled the entire welkin. There were shouts of joy, and the whole region was covered with flowers showered down by invisible agents. The various tribes of celestials assembled together, began to offer their respectful adorations to the son of Pritha. The sons of Kadru (Nagas), the son of Vinata, the Gandharvas, the lords of the creation, and the seven great Rishis, viz., Bharadwaja, Kasyapa, Gautama, Viswamitra, Jamadagni, Vasishtha, and the illustrious Atri who illumined the world of old when the Sun was lost, all came there. And Marichi, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Daksha the lord of creation, the Gandharvas, and Apsaras, came there also. The various tribes of Apsaras, decked with celestial garlands and every ornament, and attired in fine robes, came there and danced in joy, chanting the praises of Vibhatsu (Arjuna). All around, the great Rishis began to utter propitiatory formulas. And Tumvuru accompanied by the Gandharvas began to sing in charming notes. And Bhimasena and Ugrasena, Urnayus and Anagha, Gopati and Dhritarashtra and Suryavarchas the eighth, Yugapa and Trinapa, Karshni, Nandi, and Chitraratha, Salisirah the thirteenth, Parjanya the fourteenth, Kali the fifteenth, and Narada the sixteenth in this list, Vrihatta, Vrihaka, Karala of great soul, Brahmacharin, Vahuguna, Suvarna of great fame, Viswavasu, Bhumanyu, Suchandra, Sam and the celebrated tribes of Haha and Huhu gifted with wonderful melody of voice,--these celestial Gandharvas, O king, all went there. Many illustrious Apsaras also of large eyes, decked with every ornament came there to dance and sing. And Anuchana and Anavadya, Gunamukhya and Gunavara, Adrika and Soma, Misrakesi and Alambusha, Marichi and Suchika, Vidyutparna and Tilottama and Ambika, Lakshmana, Kshema Devi, Rambha, Manorama, Asita, Suvahu, Supriya, Suvapuh, Pundarika, Sugandha, Surasa, Pramathini, Kamya and Saradwati, all danced there together. And Menaka, Sahajanya, Karnika, Punjikasthala, Ritusthala, Ghritachi, Viswachi, Purvachiti, the celebrated Umlocha, Pramlocha the tenth and Urvasi the eleventh,--these large-eyed dancing girls of heaven,--came there and sang in chorus. And Dharti and Aryaman and Mitra and Varuna, Bhaga and Indra, Vivaswat, Pushan, Tvastri and Parjanya or Vishnu, these twelve Adityas came there to glorify Pandu's son. And, O king, Mrigavyadha, Sarpa, the celebrated Niriti, Ajaikapada, Ahivradhna, Pinakin, Dahana, Iswara, Kapalin, Sthanu and the illustrious Bhaga--these eleven Rudras,--also came there. And the twin Aswins, the eight Vasus, the mighty Maruts, the Viswedevas, and the Sadhyas, also came there. And Karkotaka, Vasuki, Kachchhapa, Kunda and the great Naga Takshaka,--these mighty and wrathful snakes possessed of high ascetic merit also came there. And Tarkshya, Arishtanemi, Garuda, Asitadvaja,--these and many other Nagas, came there, so also Aruna and Aruni of Vinata's race also came there. And only great Rishis crowned with ascetic success and not others saw those celestials and other beings seated in their cars or waiting on the mountain peaks. Those best of Munis beholding that wonderful sight, became amazed, and their love and affection for the children of Pandu was in consequence enhanced. "'The celebrated Pandu, tempted by the desire of having more children wished to speak again unto his wedded wife (for invoking some other god). But Kunti addressed him, saying, "The wise do not sanction a fourth delivery even in a season of distress. The woman having intercourse with four different men is called a Swairini (wanton), while she having intercourse with five becometh a harlot. Therefore, O learned one, as thou art well-acquainted with the scripture on this subject, why dost thou, beguiled by desire of offspring, tell me so in seeming forgetfulness of the ordinance?"'" SECTION CXXIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After the birth of Kunti's sons and also of the hundred sons of Dhritarashtra the daughter of the king of the Madras privately addressed Pandu, saying, "O slayer of foes, I have no complaint even if thou beest unpropitious to me. I have, O sinless one, also no complaint that though by birth I am superior to Kunti yet I am inferior to her in station. I do not grieve, O thou of Kuru's race, that Gandhari hath obtained a hundred sons. This, however, is my great grief that while Kunti and I are equal, I should be childless, while it should so chance that thou shouldst have offspring by Kunti alone. If the daughter of Kuntibhoja should so provide that I should have offspring, she would then be really doing me a great favour and benefiting thee likewise. She being my rival, I feel a delicacy in soliciting any favour of her. If thou beest, O king, propitiously disposed to me, then ask her to grant my desire." "'Hearing her, Pandu replied, "O Madri, I do revolve this matter often in my own mind, but I have hitherto hesitated to tell thee anything, not knowing how thou wouldst receive it. Now that I know what your wishes are, I shall certainly strive after that end. I think that, asked by me, Kunti will not refuse."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After this, Pandu addressed Kunti in private, saying, "O Kunti, grant me some more offspring for the expansion of my race and for the benefit of the world. O blessed one, provide thou that I myself, my ancestors, and thine also, may always have the funeral cake offered to us. O, do what is beneficial to me, and grant me and the world what, indeed, is the best of benefits. O, do what, indeed, may be difficult for thee, moved by the desire of achieving undying fame. Behold, Indra, even though he hath obtained the sovereignty of the celestials, doth yet, for fame alone, perform sacrifices. O handsome one, Brahmanas, well-acquainted with the Vedas, and having achieved high ascetic merit, do yet, for fame alone, approach their spiritual masters with reverence. So also all royal sages and Brahmanas possessed of ascetic wealth have achieved, for fame only, the most difficult of ascetic feat. Therefore, O blameless one, rescue this Madri as by a raft (by granting her the means of obtaining offspring), and achieve thou imperishable fame by making her a mother of children." "'Thus addressed by her lord, Kunti readily yielded, and said unto Madri, "Think thou, without loss of time, of some celestial, and thou shall certainly obtain from him a child like unto him." Reflecting for a few moments. Madri thought of the twin Aswins, who coming unto her with speed begat upon her two sons that were twins named Nakula and Sahadeva, unrivalled on earth for personal beauty. And as soon as they were born, an incorporeal voice said, "In energy and beauty these twins shall transcend even the twin Aswins themselves." Indeed possessed of great energy and beauty, they illumined the whole region. "'O king, after all the children were born the Rishis dwelling on the mountain of a hundred peaks uttering blessings on them and affectionately performing the first rites of birth, bestowed appellations on them. The eldest of Kunti's children was called Yudhishthira, the second Bhimasena, and the third Arjuna, and of Madri's sons, the first-born of the twins was called Nakula and the next Sahadeva. And those foremost sons born at an interval of one year after one another, looked like an embodied period of five years. And king Pandu, beholding his children of celestial beauty and of super-abundant energy, great strength and prowess, and of largeness of soul, rejoiced exceedingly. And the children became great favourites of the Rishis, as also of their wives, dwelling on the mountain of a hundred peaks. "'Some time after, Pandu again requested Kunti on behalf of Madri. Addressed, O king, by her lord in private, Kunti replied, "Having given her the formula of invocation only once, she hath, O king, managed to obtain two sons. Have I not been thus deceived by her, I fear, O king, that she will soon surpass me in the number of her children. This, indeed, is the way of all wicked women. Fool that I was, I did not know that by invoking the twin gods I could obtain at one birth twin children. I beseech thee, O king, do not command me any further. Let this be the boon granted (by thee) to me." "'Thus, O king, were born unto Pandu five sons who were begotten by celestials and were endued with great strength, and who all lived to achieve great fame and expand the Kuru race. Each bearing every auspicious mark on his person, handsome like Soma, proud as the lion, well-skilled in the use of the bow, and of leonine tread, breast, heart, eyes, neck and prowess, those foremost of men, resembling the celestials themselves in might, began to grow up. And beholding them and their virtues growing with years, the great Rishis dwelling on that snowcapped sacred mountain were filled with wonder. And the five Pandavas and the hundred sons of Dhritarashtra--that propagator of the Kuru race--grew up rapidly like a cluster of lotuses in a lake.'" SECTION CXXV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Beholding his five handsome sons growing up before him in that great forest on the charming mountain slope, Pandu felt the vast might of his arms revive once more. One day in the season of spring which maddens every creature the king accompanied by his wife (Madri), began to rove in the woods where every tree had put forth new blossoms. He beheld all around Palasas and Tilakas and Mangoes and Champakas and Parihadrakas and Karnikaras, Asokas and Kesaras and Atimuktas and Kuruvakas with swarms of maddened bees sweetly humming about. And there were flowers of blossoming Parijatas with the Kokilas pouring forth their melodies from under every twig echoing with the sweet hums of the black bees. And he beheld also various other kinds of trees bent down with the weight of their flowers and fruits. And there were also many fine pools of water overgrown with hundreds of fragrant lotuses. Beholding all these, Pandu felt the soft influence of desire. Roving like a celestial with a light heart amidst such scenery, Pandu was alone with his wife Madri in semi-transparent attire. And beholding the youthful Madri thus attired, the king's desire flamed up like a forest-fire. And ill-able to suppress his desire thus kindled at the sight of his wife of eyes like lotus-petals, he was completely overpowered. The king then seized her against her will, but Madri trembling in fear resisted him to the best of her might. Consumed by desire, he forgot everything about his misfortune. And, O thou of Kuru's race, unrestrained by the fear of (the Rishi's) curse and impelled by fate, the monarch, overpowered by passion, forcibly sought the embraces of Madri, as if he wished to put an end to his own life. His reason, thus beguiled by the great Destroyer himself by intoxicating his senses, was itself lost with his life. And the Kuru king Pandu, of virtuous soul, thus succumbed to the inevitable influence of Time, while united in intercourse with his wife. "'Then Madri, clasping the body of her senseless lord, began to weep aloud. And Kunti with her sons and the twins of Madri, hearing those cries of grief, came to the spot where the king lay in that state. Then, O king, Madri addressing Kunti in a piteous voice, said, "Come hither alone, O Kunti, and let the children stay there." Hearing these words, Kunti, the children leaving, ran with speed, exclaiming, "Woe to me!" And beholding both Pandu and Madri lying prostrate on the ground she went in grief and affliction, saying, "Of passions under complete control, this hero, O Madri, had all along been watched by me with care. How did he then forgetting the Rishi's curse, approach thee with enkindled desire? O Madri, this foremost of men should have been protected by thee. Why didst thou tempt him into solitude? Always melancholy at the thought of the Rishi's curse, how came he to be merry with thee in solitude? O princess of Valhika, more fortunate than myself, thou art really to be envied, for thou hast seen the face of our lord suffused with gladness and joy." "'Madri then replied, saying, "Revered sister, with tears in my eyes, I resisted the king, but he could not control himself, bent on, as it were making the Rishi's curse true." "'Kunti then said, "I am the older of his wedded wives; the chief religious merit must be mine. Therefore, O Madri, prevent me not from achieving that which must be achieved. I must follow our lord to the region of the dead. Rise up, O Madri, and yield me his body. Rear thou these children." Madri replied, saying, "I do clasp our lord yet, and have not allowed him to depart; therefore, I shall follow him. My appetite hath not been appeased. Thou art my older sister, O let me have thy sanction. This foremost one of the Bharata princes had approached me, desiring to have intercourse. His appetite unsatiated, shall I not follow him in the region of Yama to gratify him? O revered one, if I survive thee, it is certain I shall not be able to rear thy children as if they were mine. Will not sin touch me on that account? But thou, O Kunti, shall be able to bring my sons up as if they were thine. The king, in seeking me wishfully, hath gone to the region of spirits; therefore, my body should be burnt with his. O revered sister, withhold not thy sanction to this which is agreeable to me. Thou wilt certainly bring up the children carefully. That indeed, would be very agreeable to me. I have no other direction to give!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said this, the daughter of the king of Madras, the wedded wife of Pandu, ascended the funeral pyre of her lord, that bull among men.'" SECTION CXXVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The godlike Rishis, wise in counsels, beholding the death of Pandu, consulted with one another, and said, "The virtuous and renowned king Pandu, abandoning both sovereignty and kingdom came hither for practising ascetic austerities and resigned himself to the ascetics dwelling on this mountain. He hath hence ascended to heaven, leaving his wife and infant sons as a trust in our hands. Our duty now is to repair to his kingdom with these his offspring, and his wife."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then those godlike Rishis of magnanimous hearts, and crowned with ascetic success, summoning one another, resolved to go to Hastinapura with Pandu's children ahead, desiring to place them in the hands of Bhishma and Dhritarashtra. The ascetics set out that very moment, taking with them those children and Kunti and the two dead bodies. And though unused to toil all her life, the affectionate Kunti now regarded as very short the really long journey she had to perform. Having arrived at Kurujangala within a short time, the illustrious Kunti presented herself at the principal gate. The ascetics then charged the porters to inform the king of their arrival. The men carried the message in a trice to the court. And the citizens of Hastinapura, hearing of the arrival of thousands of Charanas and Munis, were filled with wonder. And it was soon after sunrise that they began to come out in numbers with their wives and children to behold those ascetics. Seated in all kinds of cars and conveyances by thousands, vast numbers of Kshatriyas with their wives, and Brahmanas with theirs came out. And the concourse of Vaisyas and Sudras too was as large on the occasion. The vast assemblage was very peaceful, for every heart then was inclined to piety. And there also came out Bhishma, the son of Santanu, and Somadatta or Valhika and the royal sage (Dhritarashtra) endued with the vision of knowledge and Vidura himself and the venerable Satyavati and the illustrious princess of Kosala and Gandhari accompanied by the other ladies of the royal household. And the hundred sons of Dhritarashtra, decked with various ornaments, also came out. "'The Kauravas, then, accompanied by their priest, saluted the Rishis by lowering their heads, and took their seats before them. The citizens also saluting the ascetics and bowing down unto them with touching the ground, took their seats there. Then Bhishma, seeing that vast concourse perfectly still, duly worshipped, O king, those ascetics by offering them water to wash their feet with and the customary Arghya. And having done this, he spoke unto them about the sovereignty and the kingdom. Then the oldest of the ascetics with matted locks on head and loins covered with animal skin, stood up, and with the concurrence of the other Rishis, spoke as follows, "You all know that that possessor of the sovereignty of the Kurus who was called king Pandu, had, after abandoning the pleasures of the world, repaired hence to dwell on the mountain of a hundred peaks. He adopted the Brahmacharya mode of life, but for some inscrutable purpose the gods have in view, this his eldest son, Yudhishthira, was born there, begotten by Dharma himself. Then that illustrious king obtained from Vayu this other son--the foremost of all mighty men--called Bhima. This other son, begotten upon Kunti by Indra, is Dhananjaya whose achievements will humble all bowmen in the world. Look here again at these tigers among men, mighty in the use of the bow, the twin children begotten upon Madri by the twin Aswins. Leading in righteousness the life of a Vanaprastha in the woods, illustrious Pandu hath thus revived the almost extinct line of his grandfather. The birth, growth, and Vedic studies of these children of Pandu, will, no doubt, give you great pleasure. Steadily adhering to the path of the virtuous and the wise, and leaving behind him these children, Pandu departed hence seventeen days ago. His wife Madri, beholding him placed in the funeral pyre and about to be consumed, herself ascended the same pyre, and sacrificing her life thus, hath gone with her lord to the region reserved for chaste wives. Accomplish now whatever rites should be performed for their benefit. These are (the unburnt portions of) their bodies. Here also are their children--these oppressors of foes--with their mother. Let these be now received with due honours. After the completion of the first rites in honour of the dead, let the virtuous Pandu, who had all along been the supporter of the dignity of the Kurus, have the first annual Sraddha (sapindakarana) performed with a view to installing him formally among the Pitris."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The ascetics with Guhyakas, having said this unto the Kurus, instantly disappeared in the very sight of the people. And beholding the Rishis and the Siddhas thus vanish in their sight like vapoury forms appearing and disappearing in the skies, the citizens filled with wonder returned to their homes.'" SECTION CXXVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'Dhritarashtra then said, "O Vidura, celebrate the funeral ceremonies of that lion among kings viz., Pandu, and of Madri also, in right royal style. For the good of their souls, distribute cattle, cloths, gems and diverse kinds of wealth, every one receiving as much as he asketh for. Make arrangements also for Kunti's performing the last rites of Madri in such a style as pleaseth her. And let Madri's body be so carefully wrapped up that neither the Sun nor Vayu (god of wind) may behold it. Lament not for the sinless Pandu. He was a worthy king and hath left behind him five heroic sons equal unto the celestials themselves."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Vidura, O Bharata, saying, "So be it," in consultation with Bhishma, fixed upon a sacred spot for the funeral rites of Pandu. The family priests went out of the city without loss of time, carrying with them the blazing sacred fire fed with clarified butter and rendered fragrant therewith. Then friends, relatives, and adherents, wrapping it up in cloth, decked the body of the monarch with the flowers of the season and sprinkled various excellent perfumes over it. And they also decked the hearse itself with garlands and rich hangings. Then placing the covered body of the king with that of his queen on that excellent bier decked out so brightly, they caused it to be carried on human shoulders. With the white umbrella (of state) held over the hearse with waving yak-tails and sounds of various musical instruments, the whole scene looked bright and grand. Hundreds of people began to distribute gems among the crowd on the occasion of the funeral rites of the king. At length some beautiful robes, and white umbrellas and larger yak-tails, were brought for the great ceremony. The priests clad in white walked in the van of the procession pouring libations of clarified butter on the sacred fire blazing in an ornamental vessel. And Brahmanas, and Kshatriyas, and Vaisyas, and Sudras by thousands followed the deceased king, loudly wailing in these accents, "O prince, where dost thou go, leaving us behind, and making us forlorn and wretched for ever?" And Bhishma, and Vidura, and the Pandavas, also all wept aloud. At last they came to a romantic wood on the banks of the Ganga. There they laid down the hearse on which the truthful and lion-hearted prince and his spouse lay. Then they brought water in many golden vessels, washed the prince's body besmeared before with several kinds of fragrant paste, and again smeared it over with sandal paste. They then dressed it in a white dress made of indigenous fabrics. And with the new suit on, the king seemed as if he was living and only sleeping on a costly bed. "'When the other funeral ceremonies also were finished in consonance with the directions of the priests, the Kauravas set fire to the dead bodies of the king and the queen, bringing lotuses, sandal-paste, and other fragrant substances to the pyre. "'Then seeing the bodies aflame, Kausalya burst out, "O my son, my son!"-- and fell down senseless on the ground. And seeing her down the citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces began to wail from grief and affection for their king. And the birds of the air and the beasts of the field were touched by the lamentations of Kunti. And Bhishma, the son of Santanu, and the wise Vidura, and the others also that were there, became disconsolate. "'Thus weeping, Bhishma, Vidura, Dhritarashtra, the Pandavas and the Kuru ladies, all performed the watery ceremony of the king. And when all this was over, the people, themselves filled with sorrow, began to console the bereaved sons of Pandu. And the Pandavas with their friends began to sleep on the ground. Seeing this the Brahmanas and the other citizens also renounced their beds. Young and old, all the citizens grieved on account of the sons of king Pandu, and passed twelve days in mourning with the weeping Pandavas.'" SECTION CXXVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Bhishma and Kunti with their friends celebrated the Sraddha of the deceased monarch, and offered the Pinda. And they feasted the Kauravas and thousands of Brahmanas unto whom they also gave gems and lands. Then the citizens returned to Hastinapura with the sons of Pandu, now that they had been cleansed from the impurity incident to the demise of their father. All then fell to weeping for the departed king. It seemed as if they had lost one of their own kin. "'When the Sraddha had been celebrated in the manner mentioned above, the venerable Vyasa, seeing all the subjects sunk in grief, said one day to his mother Satyavati, "Mother, our days of happiness have gone by and days of calamity have succeeded. Sin beginneth to increase day by day. The world hath got old. The empire of the Kauravas will no longer endure because of wrong and oppression. Go thou then into the forest, and devote thyself to contemplation through Yoga. Henceforth society will be filled with deceit and wrong. Good work will cease. Do not witness the annihilation of thy race, in thy old age." "'Acquiescing in the words of Vyasa, Satyavati entered the inner apartments and addressed her daughter-in-law, saying, "O Ambika, I hear that in consequence of the deeds of your grandsons, this Bharata dynasty and its subjects will perish. If thou permit, I would go to the forest with Kausalya, so grieved at the loss of her son." O king, saying this the queen, taking the permission of Bhishma also, went to the forest. And arriving there with her two daughters-in-law, she became engaged in profound contemplation, and in good time leaving her body ascended to heaven.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then the sons of king Pandu, having gone through all the purifying rites prescribed in the Vedas, began to grow up in princely style in the home of their father. Whenever they were engaged in play with the sons of Dhritarashtra, their superiority of strength became marked. In speed, in striking the objects aimed at, in consuming articles of food, and scattering dust, Bhimasena beat all the sons of Dhritarashtra. The son of the Wind-god pulled them by the hair and made them fight with one another, laughing all the while. And Vrikodara easily defeated those hundred and one children of great energy as if they were one instead of being a hundred and one. The second Pandava used to seize them by the hair, and throwing them down, to drag them along the earth. By this, some had their knees broken, some their heads, and some their shoulders. That youth, sometimes holding ten of them, drowned them in water, till they were nearly dead. When the sons of Dhritarashtra got up to the boughs of a tree for plucking fruits, Bhima used to shake that tree, by striking it with his foot, so that down came the fruits and the fruitpluckers at the same time. In fact, those princes were no match for Bhima in pugilistic encounters, in speed, or in skill. Bhima used to make a display of his strength by thus tormenting them in childishness but not from malice. "'Seeing these wonderful exhibitions of the might of Bhima, the powerful Duryodhana, the eldest son of Dhritarashtra, began to conceive hostility towards him. And the wicked and unrighteous Duryodhana, through ignorance and ambition, prepared himself for an act of sin. He thought, "There is no other individual who can compare with Bhima, the second son of Pandu, in point of prowess. I shall have to destroy him by artifice. Singly, Bhima dares a century of us to the combat. Therefore, when he shall sleep in the garden, I shall throw him into the current of the Ganga. Afterwards, confining his eldest brother Yudhishthira and his younger brother Arjuna, I shall reign sole king without molestation." Determined thus, the wicked Duryodhana was ever on the watch to find out an opportunity for injuring Bhima. And, O Bharata, at length at a beautiful place called Pramanakoti on the banks of the Ganga, he built a palace decorated with hangings of broad-cloth and other rich stuffs. And he built this palace for sporting in the water there, and filled it with all kinds of entertaining things and choice viands. Gay flags waved on the top of this mansion. The name of the house was "the water-sport house." Skilful cooks prepared various kinds of viands. When all was ready, the officers gave intimation to Duryodhana. Then the evil-minded prince said unto the Pandavas, "Let us all go to the banks of the Ganga graced with trees and crowned with flowers and sport there in the water." And upon Yudhishthira agreeing to this, the sons of Dhritarashtra, taking the Pandavas with them, mounted country-born elephants of great size and cars resembling towns, and left the metropolis. "'On arriving at the place, the princes dismissed their attendants, and surveying the beauty of the gardens and the groves, entered the palace, like lions entering their mountain caves. On entering they saw that the architects had handsomely plastered the walls and the ceilings and that painters had painted them beautifully. The windows looked very graceful, and the artificial fountains were splendid. Here and there were tanks of pellucid water in which bloomed forests of lotuses. The banks were decked with various flowers whose fragrance filled the atmosphere. The Kauravas and the Pandavas sat down and began to enjoy the things provided for them. They became engaged in play and began to exchange morsels of food with one another. Meanwhile the wicked Duryodhana had mixed a powerful poison with a quantity of food, with the object of making away with Bhima. That wicked youth who had nectar in his tongue and a razor in his heart, rose at length, and in a friendly way fed Bhima largely with that poisoned food, and thinking himself lucky in having compassed his end, was exceedingly glad at heart. Then the sons of Dhritarashtra and Pandu together became cheerfully engaged in sporting in the water. Their sport having been finished, they dressed themselves in white habiliments, and decked themselves with various ornaments. Fatigued with play, they felt inclined in the evening to rest in the pleasurehouse belonging to the garden. Having made the other youths take exercise in the waters, the powerful second Pandava was excessively fatigued. So that on rising from the water, he lay down on the ground. He was weary and under the influence of the poison. And the cool air served to spread the poison over all his frame, so that he lost his senses at once. Seeing this Duryodhana bound him with chords of shrubs, and threw him into the water. The insensible son of Pandu sank down till he reached the Naga kingdom. Nagas, furnished with fangs containing virulent venom, bit him by thousands. The vegetable poison, mingled in the blood of the son of the Wind god, was neutralised by the snake-poison. The serpents had bitten all over his frame, except his chest, the skin of which was so tough that their fangs could not penetrate it. "'On regaining consciousness, the son of Kunti burst his bands and began to press the snakes down under the ground. A remnant fled for life, and going to their king Vasuki, represented, "O king of snakes, a man drowned under the water, bound in chords of shrubs; probably he had drunk poison. For when he fell amongst us, he was insensible. But when we began to bite him, he regained his senses, and bursting his fetters, commenced laying at us. May it please Your Majesty to enquire who is." "'Then Vasuki, in accordance with the prayer of the inferior Nagas, went to the place and saw Bhimasena. Of the serpents, there was one, named Aryaka. He was the grandfather of the father of Kunti. The lord of serpents saw his relative and embraced him. Then, Vasuki, learning all, was pleased with Bhima, and said to Aryaka with satisfaction, "How are we to please him? Let him have money and gems in profusion." "'On hearing the words of Vasuki, Aryaka said, "O king of serpents, when Your Majesty is pleased with him, no need of wealth for him! Permit him to drink of rasakunda (nectar-vessels) and thus immeasurable strength. There is the strength of a thousand elephants in each one of those vessels. Let this prince drink as much as he can." "'The king of serpents gave his consent. And the serpents thereupon began auspicious rites. Then purifying himself carefully, Bhimasena facing the east began to drink nectar. At one breath, he quaffed off the contents of a whole vessel, and in this manner drained off eight successive jars, till he was full. At length, the serpents prepared an excellent bed for him, on which he lay down at ease.'" SECTION CXXIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Meanwhile the Kauravas and the Pandavas, after having thus sported there, set out, without Bhima, for Hastinapura, some on horses, some on elephants, while others preferred cars and other conveyances. And on their way they said to one another, "Perhaps, Bhima hath gone before us." And the wicked Duryodhana was glad at heart to miss Bhima, and entered the city with his brothers in joy. "'The virtuous Yudhishthira, himself unacquainted with vice and wickedness, regarded others to be as honest as himself. The eldest son of Pritha, filled with fraternal love, going unto his mother, said, after making obeisance to her, "O mother, hath Bhima come? O good mother, I don't find him here. Where may he have gone? We long sought for him everywhere in the gardens and the beautiful woods; but found him nowhere. At length, we thought that the heroic Bhima preceded us all. O illustrious dame, we came hither in great anxiety. Arrived here, where hath he gone? Have you sent him anywhere? O tell me, I am full of doubts respecting the mighty Bhima. He had been asleep and hath not come. I conclude he is no more." "'Hearing these words of the highly intelligent Yudhishthira, Kunti shrieked, in alarm, and said, "Dear son, I have not seen Bhima. He did not come to me. O, return in haste, and with your brothers search for him." "'Having said this in affliction to her eldest son, she summoned Vidura, and said, "O illustrious Kshattri, Bhimasena is missing! Where has he gone? The other brothers have all come back from the gardens, only Bhima of mighty arms does not come home! Duryodhana likes him not. The Kaurava is crooked and malicious and low-minded and imprudent. He coveteth the throne openly. I am afraid he may have in a fit of anger slain my darling. This afflicts me sorely, indeed, it burns my heart." "'Vidura replied, "Blessed dame, say not so! Protect thy other sons with care. If the wicked Duryodhana be accused, he may slay thy remaining sons. The great sage hath said that all thy sons will be long-lived. Therefore, Bhima will surely return and gladden thy heart."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The wise Vidura, having said this unto Kunti, returned to his abode, while Kunti, in great anxiety, continued to stay at home with her children. "'Meanwhile, Bhimasena awoke from that slumber on the eighth day, and felt strong beyond measure in consequence of the nectar he had taken having been all digested. Seeing him awake, the Nagas began to console and cheer him, saying, "O thou of mighty arms, the strength-giving liquor thou hast drunk will give thee the might of ten thousand elephants! No one now will be able to vanquish thee in fight. O bull of Kuru's race, do thou bath in this holy and auspicious water and return home. Thy brothers are disconsolate because of thee." "'Then Bhima purified himself with a bath in those waters, and decked in white robes and flowery garlands of the same hue, ate of the paramanna (rice and sugar pudding) offered to him by the Nagas. Then that oppressor of all foes, decked in celestial ornaments, received the adorations and blessings of the snakes, and saluting them in return, rose from the nether region. Bearing up the lotus-eyed Pandava from under the waters, the Nagas placed him in the selfsame gardens wherein he had been sporting, and vanished in his very sight. "'The mighty Bhimasena, arrived on the surface of the earth, ran with speed to his mother. And bowing down unto her and his eldest brother, and smelling the heads of his younger brothers, that oppressor of all foes was himself embraced by his mother and every one of those bulls among men. Affectionate unto one another, they all repeatedly exclaimed, "What is our joy today, O what joy!" "'Then Bhima, endued with great strength and prowess, related to his brothers everything about the villainy of Duryodhana, and the lucky and unlucky incidents that had befallen him in the world of the Serpents. Thereupon Yudhishthira said, "Do thou observe silence on this. Do not speak of this to any one. From this day, protect ye all one another with care." Thus cautioned by the righteous Yudhishthira, they all, with Yudhishthira himself, became very vigilant from that day. And lest negligence might occur on the part of the sons of Kunti, Vidura continually offered them sage advice. "'Some time after, Duryodhana again mixed in the food of Bhima a poison that was fresh, virulent, and very deadly. But Yuyutsu (Dhritarashtra's son by a Vaisya wife), moved by his friendship for the Pandavas, informed them of this. Vrikodara, however, swallowed it without any hesitation, and digested it completely. And, though virulent the poison produced no effects on Bhima. "'When that terrible poison intended for the destruction of Bhima failed of its effect, Duryodhana, Karna and Sakuni, without giving up their wicked design had recourse to numerous other contrivances for accomplishing the death of the Pandavas. And though every one of these contrivances was fully known to the Pandavas, yet in accordance with the advice of Vidura they suppressed their indignation. "'Meanwhile, the king (Dhritarashtra), beholding the Kuru princes passing their time in idleness and growing naughty, appointed Gautama as their preceptor and sent them unto him for instruction. Born among a clump of heath, Gautama was well-skilled in the Vedas and it was under him (also called Kripa) that the Kuru princes began to learn the use of arms.'" SECTION CXXX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O Brahmana, it behoveth thee to relate to me everything about the birth of Kripa. How did he spring from a clump of heath? Whence also did he obtain his weapons?' "Vaisampayana said, 'O king, the great sage Gautama had a son named Saradwat. This Saradwat was born with arrows (in hand). O oppressor of foes, the son of Gautama exhibited great aptitude for the study of the science of weapons, but none for the other sciences. Saradwat acquired all his weapons by those austerities by which Brahmanas in student life acquire the knowledge of Vedas. Gautama (the son of Gotama) by his aptitude for the science of weapons and by his austerities made Indra himself greatly afraid of him. Then, O thou of Kuru's race, the chief of the gods summoned a celestial damsel named Janapadi and sent her unto Gautama, saying, "Do thy best to disturb the austerities of Gautama." Repairing unto the charming asylum of Saradwat, the damsel began to tempt the ascetic equipped with bow and arrows. Beholding that Apsara, of figure unrivalled on earth for beauty, alone in those woods and clad in a single piece of cloth, Saradwat's eyes expanded with delight. At the sight of the damsel, his bow and arrows slipped from his hand and his frame shook all over with emotion; but possessed of ascetic fortitude and strength of soul, the sage mustered sufficient patience to bear up against the temptation. The suddenness, however, of his mental agitation, caused an unconscious emission of his vital fluid. Leaving his bow and arrows and deer-skin behind, he went away, flying from the Apsara. His vital fluid, however, having fallen upon a clump of heath, was divided into two parts, whence sprang two children that were twins. "'And it happened that a soldier in attendance upon king Santanu while the monarch was out a-hunting in the woods, came upon the twins. And seeing the bow and arrows and deer-skin on the ground, he thought they might be the offspring of some Brahmana proficient in the science of arms. Deciding thus, he took up the children along with the bow and arrows, and showed what he had to the king. Beholding them the king was moved with pity, and saying, "Let these become my children," brought them to his palace. Then that first of men, Santanu, the son of Pratipa having brought Gautama's twins into his house, performed in respect of them the usual rites of religion. And he began to bring them up and called them Kripa and Kripi, in allusion to the fact that he brought them up from motives of pity (Kripa). The son of Gotama having left his former asylum, continued his study of the science of arms in right earnest. By his spiritual insight he learnt that his son and daughter were in the palace of Santanu. He thereupon went to the monarch and represented everything about his lineage. He then taught Kripa the four branches of the science of arms, and various other branches of knowledge, including all their mysteries and recondite details. In a short time Kripa became an eminent professor of the science (of arms). And the hundred sons of Dhritarashtra, and the Pandavas along with the Yadavas, and the Vrishnis, and many other princes from various lands, began to receive lessons from him in that science.'" SECTION CXXXI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Desirous of giving his grandsons a superior education, Bhishma was on the look-out for a teacher endued with energy and well- skilled in the science of arms. Deciding, O chief of the Bharatas, that none who was not possessed of great intelligence, none who was not illustrious or a perfect master of the science of arms, none who was not of godlike might, should be the instructor of the Kuru (princes), the son of Ganga, O tiger among men, placed the Pandavas and the Kauravas under the tuition of Bharadwaja's son, the intelligent Drona skilled in all the Vedas. Pleased with the reception given him by the great Bhishma, that foremost of all men skilled in arms, viz., illustrious Drona of world-wide fame, accepted the princes as his pupils. And Drona taught them the science of arms in all its branches. And, O monarch, both the Kauravas and the Pandavas endued with immeasurable power, in a short time became proficient in the use of all kinds of arms.' "Janamejaya asked, 'O Brahmana, how was Drona born? How and whence did he acquire his arms? How and why came he unto the Kurus? Whose son also was endued with such energy? Again, how was his son Aswatthaman, the foremost of all skilled in arms born? I wish to hear all this! Please recite them in detail.' "Vaisampayana said, 'There dwelt at the source of the Ganga, a great sage named Bharadwaja, ceaselessly observing the most rigid vows. One day, of old, intending to celebrate the Agnihotra sacrifice he went along with many great Rishis to the Ganga to perform his ablutions. Arrived at the bank of the stream, he saw Ghritachi herself, that Apsara endued with youth and beauty, who had gone there a little before. With an expression of pride in her countenance, mixed with a voluptuous languor of attitude, the damsel rose from the water after her ablutions were over. And as she was gently treading on the bank, her attire which was loose became disordered. Seeing her attire disordered, the sage was smitten with burning desire. The next moment his vital fluid came out, in consequence of the violence of his emotion. The Rishi immediately held it in a vessel called a drona. Then, O king, Drona sprang from the fluid thus preserved in that vessel by the wise Bharadwaja. And the child thus born studied all the Vedas and their branches. Before now Bharadwaja of great prowess and the foremost of those possessing a knowledge of arms, had communicated to the illustrious Agnivesa, a knowledge of the weapon called Agneya. O foremost one of Bharata's race, the Rishi (Agnivesa) sprung from fire now communicated the knowledge of that great weapon to Drona the son of his preceptor. "'There was a king named Prishata who was a great friend of Bharadwaja. About this time Prishata had a son born unto him, named Drupada. And that bull among Kshatriyas, viz., Drupada, the son of Prishata, used every day to come to the hermitage of Bharadwaja to play with Drona and study in his company. O monarch, when Prishata was dead, this Drupada of mighty arms became the king of the northern Panchalas. About this time the illustrious Bharadwaja also ascended to heaven. Drona continuing to reside in his father's hermitage devoted himself to ascetic austerities. Having become well-versed in the Vedas and their branches and having burnt also all his sins by asceticism, the celebrated Drona, obedient to the injunctions of his father and moved by the desire of offspring married Kripi, the daughter of Saradwat. And this woman, ever engaged in virtuous acts and the Agnihotra, and the austerest of penances, obtained a son named Aswatthaman. And as soon as Aswatthaman was born, he neighed like the (celestial) steed Ucchaihsravas. Hearing that cry, an invisible being in the skies said, "The voice of this child hath, like the neighing of a horse, been audible all around. The child shall, therefore, be known by the name of Aswatthaman, (the horse-voiced)." The son of Bharadwaja (Drona) was exceedingly glad at having obtained that child. Continuing to reside in that hermitage he devoted himself to the study of the science of arms. "'O king, it was about this time that Drona heard that the illustrious Brahmana Jamadagnya, that slayer of foes, that foremost one among all wielders of weapons, versed in all kinds of knowledge, had expressed a desire of giving away all his wealth to Brahmanas. Having heard of Rama's knowledge of arms and of his celestial weapons also, Drona set his heart upon them as also upon the knowledge of morality that Rama possessed. Then Drona of mighty arms, endued with high ascetic virtues, accompanied by disciples who were all devoted to vows and ascetic austerities, set out for the Mahendra mountains. Arrived at Mahendra, the son of Bharadwaja possessed of high ascetic merit, beheld the son of Bhrigu, the exterminator of all foes, endued with great patience and with mind under complete control. Then, approaching with his disciples that scion of the Bhrigu race Drona, giving him his name, told him of his birth in the line of Angiras. And touching the ground with his head, he worshipped Rama's feet. And beholding the illustrious son of Jamadagni intent upon retiring into the woods after having given away all his wealth, Drona said, "Know me to have sprung from Bharadwaja, but not in any woman's womb! I am a Brahmana of high birth, Drona by name, come to thee with the desire of obtaining thy wealth." "'On hearing him, that illustrious grinder of the Kshatriya race replied, "Thou art welcome, O best of regenerate ones! Tell me what thou desirest." Thus addressed by Rama, the son of Bharadwaja replied unto that foremost of all smiters, desirous of giving away the whole of his wealth, "O thou of multifarious vows, I am a candidate for thy eternal wealth." "O thou of ascetic wealth," returned Rama, "My gold and whatever other wealth I had, have all been given away unto Brahmanas! This earth also, to the verge of the sea, decked with towns and cities, as with a garland of flowers, I have given unto Kasyapa. I have now my body only and my various valuable weapons left. I am prepared to give either my body or my weapons. Say, which thou wouldst have! I would give it thee! Say quickly!" "'Drona answered, "O son of Bhrigu, it behoveth thee to give me all thy weapons together with the mysteries of hurling and recalling them." "'Saying, "So be it," the son of Bhrigu gave all his weapons unto Drona,-- indeed, the whole science of arms with its rules and mysteries. Accepting them all, and thinking himself amply rewarded that best of Brahmanas then, glad at heart, set out, for (the city of) his friend Drupada.'" SECTION CXXXII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then, O king, the mighty son of Bharadwaja presented himself before Drupada, and addressing that monarch, said, "Know me for thy friend." Thus addressed by his friend, the son of Bharadwaja, with a joyous heart, the lord of the Panchalas was ill-able to bear that speech. The king, intoxicated with the pride of wealth, contracted his brows in wrath, and with reddened eyes spake these words unto Drona, "O Brahmana, thy intelligence is scarcely of a high order, inasmuch as thou sayest unto me, all on a sudden, that thou art my friend! O thou of dull apprehension, great kings can never be friends with such luckless and indigent wights as thou! It is true there had been friendship between thee and me before, for we were then both equally circumstanced. But Time that impaireth everything in its course, impaireth friendship also. In this world, friendship never endureth for ever in any heart. Time weareth it off and anger destroyeth it too. Do not stick, therefore, to that worn-off friendship. Think not of it any longer. The friendship I had with thee, O first of Brahmanas, was for a particular purpose. Friendship can never subsist between a poor man and a rich man, between a man of letters and an unlettered mind, between a hero and a coward. Why dost thou desire the continuance of our former friendship? There may be friendship or hostility between persons equally situated as to wealth or might. The indigent and the affluent can neither be friends nor quarrel with each other. One of impure birth can never be a friend to one of pure birth; one who is not a car-warrior can never be a friend to one who is so; and one who is not a king never have a king for his friend. Therefore, why dost thou desire the continuance of our former friendship?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Drupada, the mighty son of Bharadwaja became filled with wrath, and reflecting for a moment, made up his mind as to his course of action. Seeing the insolence of the Panchala king, he wished to check it effectually. Hastily leaving the Panchala capital Drona bent his steps towards the capital of the Kurus, named after the elephant.'" SECTION CXXXIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Arrived at Hastinapura, that best of Brahmanas, the son of Bharadwaja, continued to live privately in the house of Gautama (Kripa). His mighty son (Aswatthaman) at intervals of Kripa's teaching, used to give the sons of Kunti lessons in the use of arms. But as yet none knew of Aswatthaman's prowess. "'Drona had thus lived privately for some time in the house of Kripa when one day the heroic princes, all in a company, came out of Hastinapura. And coming out of the city, they began to play with a ball and roam about in gladness of heart. And it so happened that the ball with which they had been playing fell into a well. And thereupon the princes strove their best to recover it from the well. But all the efforts the princes made to recover it proved futile. They then began to eye one another bashfully, and not knowing how to recover it, their anxiety became great. Just at this time they beheld a Brahmana near enough unto them, of darkish hue, decrepit and lean, sanctified by the performance of the Agnihotra and who had finished his daily rites of worship. And beholding that illustrious Brahmana, the princes who had despaired of success surrounded him immediately. Drona (for that Brahmana was no other), seeing the princes unsuccessful, and conscious of his own skill, smiled a little, and addressing them said, "Shame on your Kshatriya might, and shame also on your skill in arms! You have been born in the race of Bharata! How is it that ye cannot recover the ball (from the bottom of this well)? If ye promise me a dinner today, I will, with these blades of grass, bring up not only the ball ye have lost but this ring also that I now throw down!" Thus saying, Drona that oppressor of foes, taking off his ring, threw it down into the dry well. Then Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, addressing Drona, said, "O Brahmana (thou askest for a trifle)! Do thou, with Kripa's permission, obtain of us that which would last thee for life!" Thus addressed, Drona with smiles replied unto the Bharata princes, saying, "This handful of long grass I would invest, by my mantras, with the virtue of weapons. Behold these blades possess virtues that other weapons, have not! I will, with one of these blades, pierce the ball, and then pierce that blade with another, and that another with a third, and thus shall I, by a chain, bring up the ball."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Drona did exactly what he had said. And the princes were all amazed and their eyes expanded with delight. And regarding what they had witnessed to be very extraordinary, they said, "O learned Brahmana, do thou bring up the ring also without loss of time." "'Then the illustrious Drona, taking a bow with an arrow, pierced the ring with that arrow and brought it up at once. And taking the ring thus brought up from the well still pierced with his arrow, he coolly gave it to the astonished princes. Then the latter, seeing the ring thus recovered, said, "We bow to thee, O Brahmana! None else owneth such skill. We long to know who thou art and whose son. What also can we do for thee?" "'Thus addressed, Drona replied unto the princes, saying, "Do ye repair unto Bhishma and describe to him my likeness and skill. The mighty one will recognize me." The princes then saying, "So be it," repaired unto Bhishma and telling him of the purport of that Brahmana's speech, related everything about his (extraordinary) feat. Hearing everything from the princes, Bhishma at once understood that the Brahmana was none else than Drona, and thinking that he would make the best preceptor for the princes, went in person unto him and welcoming him respectfully, brought him over to the palace. Then Bhishma, that foremost of all wielders of arms, adroitly asked him the cause of his arrival at Hastinapura. Asked by him, Drona represented everything as it had happened, saying, "O sir, in times past I went to the great Rishi Agnivesa for obtaining from him his weapons, desirous also of learning the science of arms. Devoted to the service of my preceptor, I lived with him for many years in the humble guise of a Brahmacharin, with matted locks on my head. At that time, actuated by the same motives, the prince of Panchala, the mighty Yajnasena, also lived in the same asylum. He became my friend, always seeking my welfare. I liked him much. Indeed, we lived together for many, many years. O thou of Kuru's race, from our earliest years we had studied together and, indeed, he was my friend from boyhood, always speaking and doing what was agreeable to me. For gratifying me, O Bhishma, he used to tell me, 'O Drona, I am the favourite child of my illustrious father. When the king installeth me as monarch of the Panchalas, the kingdom shall be thine. O friend, this, indeed, is my solemn promise. My dominion, wealth and happiness, shall all be dependent on thee.' At last the time came for his departure. Having finished his studies, he bent his steps towards his country. I offered him my regards at the time, and, indeed, I remembered his words ever afterwards. "'"Some time after, in obedience to the injunctions of my father and tempted also by the desire of offspring, I married Kripi of short hair, who gifted with great intelligence, had observed many rigid vows, and was ever engaged in the Agnihotra and other sacrifices and rigid austerities. Gautami, in time, gave birth to a son named Aswatthaman of great prowess and equal in splendour unto the Sun himself. Indeed, I was pleased on having obtained Aswatthaman as much as my father had been on obtaining me. "'"And it so happened that one day the child Aswatthaman observing some rich men's sons drink milk, began to cry. At this I was so beside myself that I lost all knowledge of the point of the compass. Instead of asking him who had only a few kine (so that if he gave me one, he would no longer be able to perform his sacrifices and thus sustain a loss of virtue), I was desirous of obtaining a cow from one who had many, and for that I wandered from country to country. But my wanderings proved unsuccessful, for I failed to obtain a milch cow. After I had come back unsuccessful, some of my son's playmates gave him water mixed with powdered rice. Drinking this, the poor boy, was deceived into the belief that he had taken milk, and began to dance in joy, saying, 'O, I have taken milk. I have taken milk!' Beholding him dance with joy amid these playmates smiling at his simplicity, I was exceedingly touched. Hearing also the derisive speeches of busy-bodies who said, 'Fie upon the indigent Drona, who strives not to earn wealth, whose son drinking water mixed with powdered rice mistaketh it for milk and danceth with joy, saying, "I have taken milk,--I have taken milk!"'--I was quite beside myself. Reproaching myself much, I at last resolved that even if I should have to live cast off and censured by Brahmanas, I would not yet, from desire of wealth, be anybody's servant, which is ever hateful. Thus resolved, O Bhishma, I went, for former friendship, unto the king of the Somakas, taking with me my dear child and wife. Hearing that he had been installed in the sovereignty (of the Somakas), I regarded myself as blessed beyond compare. Joyfully I went unto that dear friend of mine seated on the throne, remembering my former friendship with him and also his own words to me. And, O illustrious one, approaching Drupada, I said, 'O tiger among men, know me for thy friend!'-- Saying this, I approached him confidently as a friend should. But Drupada, laughing in derision cast me off as if I were a vulgar fellow. Addressing me he said, 'Thy intelligence scarcely seemeth to be of a high order inasmuch as approaching me suddenly, thou sayest thou art my friend! Time that impaireth everything, impaireth friendship also. My former friendship with thee was for a particular purpose. One of impure birth can never be a friend of one who is of pure birth. One who is not a car-warrior can never be a friend of one who is such. Friendship can only subsist between persons that are of equal rank, but not between those that are unequally situated. Friendship never subsisteth for ever in my heart. Time impaireth friendships, as also anger destroyeth them. Do thou not stick, therefore, to that worn-off friendship between us. Think not of it any longer. The friendship I had with thee, O best of Brahmanas, was for a special purpose. There cannot be friendship between a poor man and a rich man, between an unlettered kind and a man of letters, between a coward and a hero. Why dost thou, therefore, desire the revival of our former friendship? O thou of simple understanding, great kings can never have friendship with such indigent and luckless wight as thou. One who is not a king can never have a king for his friend. I do not remember ever having promised thee my kingdom. But, O Brahmana, I can now give thee food and shelter for one night.'--Thus addressed by him, I left his presence quickly with my wife, vowing to do that which I will certainly do soon enough. Thus insulted by Drupada, O Bhishma, I have been filled with wrath, I have come to the Kurus, desirous of obtaining intelligent and docile pupils. I come to Hastinapura to gratify thy wishes. O, tell me what I am to do."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by the son of Bharadwaja, Bhishma said unto him, "String thy bow, O Brahmana, and make the Kuru princes accomplished in arms. Worshipped by the Kurus, enjoy with a glad heart to thy fill every comfort in their abode. Thou art the absolute lord, O Brahmana, of what ever wealth the Kurus have and of their sovereignty and kingdom! The Kurus are thine (from this day). Think that as already accomplished which may be in thy heart. Thou art, O Brahmana, obtained by us as the fruit of our great good luck. Indeed, the favour thou hast conferred upon me by thy arrival is great."'" SECTION CXXXIV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus worshipped by Bhishma, Drona, that first of men, endued with great energy, took up his quarters in the abode of the Kurus and continued to live there, receiving their adorations. After he had rested a while, Bhishma, taking with him his grandsons, the Kaurava princes, gave them unto him as pupils, making at the same time many valuable presents. And the mighty one (Bhishma) also joyfully gave unto the son of Bharadwaja a house that was tidy and neat and well-filled with paddy and every kind of wealth. And that first of archers, Drona, thereupon joyfully accepted the Kauravas, viz., the sons of Pandu and Dhritarashtra, as his pupils. And having accepted them all as his pupils, one day Drona called them apart and making them touch his feet, said to them with a swelling heart, "I have in my heart a particular purpose. Promise me truly, ye sinless ones, that when ye have become skilled in arms, ye will accomplish it."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words, the Kuru princes remained silent. But Arjuna, O king, vowed to accomplish it whatever it was. Drona then cheerfully clasped Arjuna to his bosom and took the scent of his head repeatedly, shedding tears of joy all the while. Then Drona endued with great prowess taught the sons of Pandu (the use of) many weapons both celestial and human. And, O bull of the Bharata race, many other princes also flocked to that best of Brahmanas for instruction in arms. The Vrishnis and the Andhakas, and princes from various lands, and the (adopted) son of Radha of the Suta caste, (Karna), all became pupils of Drona. But of them all, the Suta child Karna, from jealousy, frequently defied Arjuna, and supported by Duryodhana, used to disregard the Pandavas. Arjuna, however, from devotion to the science of arms, always stayed by the side of his preceptor, and in skill, strength of arms, and perseverance, excelled all (his class-fellows). Indeed, although the instruction the preceptor gave, was the same in the case of all, yet in lightness and skill Arjuna became the foremost of all his fellow-pupils. And Drona was convinced that none of his pupils would (at any time) be able to be equal to that son of Indra. "'Thus Drona continued giving lessons to the princes in the science of weapons. And while he gave unto every one of his pupils a narrow-mouthed vessel (for fetching water) in order that much time may be spent in filling them, he gave unto his own son Aswatthaman a broad-mouthed vessel, so that, filling it quickly, he might return soon enough. And in the intervals so gained, Drona used to instruct his own son in several superior methods (of using weapons). Jishnu (Arjuna) came to know of this, and thereupon filling his narrow-mouthed vessel with water by means of the Varuna weapon he used to come unto his preceptor at the same time with his preceptor's son. And accordingly the intelligent son of Pritha, that foremost of all men possessing a knowledge of weapons, had no inferiority to his preceptor's son in respect of excellence. Arjuna's devotion to the service of his preceptor as also to arms was very great and he soon became the favourite of his preceptor. And Drona, beholding his pupil's devotion to arms, summoned the cook, and told him in secret, "Never give Arjuna his food in the dark, nor tell him that I have told thee this." A few days after, however, when Arjuna was taking his food, a wind arose, and thereupon the lamp that had been burning went out. But Arjuna, endued with energy, continued eating in the dark, his hand, from habit, going to his mouth. His attention being thus called to the force of habit, the strong- armed son of Pandu set his heart upon practising with his bow in the night. And, O Bharata, Drona, hearing the twang of his bowstring in the night, came to him, and clasping him, said, "Truly do I tell thee that I shall do that unto thee by which there shall not be an archer equal to thee in this world."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thereafter Drona began to teach Arjuna the art of fighting on horse-back, on the back of elephants, on car, and on the ground. And the mighty Drona also instructed Arjuna in fighting with the mace, the sword, the lance, the spear, and the dart. And he also instructed him in using many weapons and fighting with many men at the same time. And hearing reports of his skill, kings and princes, desirous of learning the science of arms, flocked to Drona by thousands. Amongst those that came there, O monarch, was a prince named Ekalavya, who was the son of Hiranyadhanus, king of the Nishadas (the lowest of the mixed orders). Drona, however, cognisant of all rules of morality, accepted not the prince as his pupil in archery, seeing that he was a Nishada who might (in time) excel all his high-born pupils. But, O oppressor of all enemies, the Nishada prince, touching Drona's feet with bent head, wended his way into the forest, and there he made a clay-image of Drona, and began to worship it respectfully, as if it was his real preceptor, and practised weapons before it with the most rigid regularity. In consequence of his exceptional reverence for his preceptor and his devotion to his purpose, all the three processes of fixing arrows on the bowstring, aiming, and letting off became very easy for him. "'And one day, O grinder of foes, the Kuru and the Pandava princes, with Drona's leave, set out in their cars on a hunting excursion. A servant, O king, followed the party at leisure, with the usual implements and a dog. Having come to the woods, they wandered about, intent on the purpose they had in view. Meanwhile, the dog also, in wandering alone in the woods, came upon the Nishada prince (Ekalavya). And beholding the Nishada of dark hue, of body besmeared with filth, dressed in black and bearing matted locks on head, the dog began to bark aloud. "'Thereupon the Nishada prince, desirous of exhibiting his lightness of hand, sent seven arrows into its mouth (before it could shut it). The dog, thus pierced with seven arrows, came back to the Pandavas. Those heroes, who beheld that sight, were filled with wonder, and, ashamed of their own skill, began to praise the lightness of hand and precision of aim by auricular precision (exhibited by the unknown archer). And they thereupon began to seek in those woods for the unknown dweller therein that had shown such skill. And, O king, the Pandavas soon found out the object of their search ceaselessly discharging arrows from the bow. And beholding that man of grim visage, who was totally a stranger to them, they asked, "Who art thou and whose son?" Thus questioned, the man replied, "Ye heroes, I am the son of Hiranyadhanus, king of the Nishadas. Know me also for a pupil of Drona, labouring for the mastery of the art of arms."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The Pandavas then, having made themselves acquainted with everything connected with him, returned (to the city), and going unto Drona, told him of that wonderful feat of archery which they had witnessed in the woods. Arjuna, in particular, thinking all the while, O king, "Ekalavya," saw Drona in private and relying upon his preceptor's affection for him, said, "Thou hadst lovingly told me, clasping me, to thy bosom, that no pupil of thine should be equal to me. Why then is there a pupil of thine, the mighty son of the Nishada king, superior to me?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'On hearing these words, Drona reflected for a moment, and resolving upon the course of action he should follow, took Arjuna with him and went unto the Nishada prince. And he beheld Ekalavya with body besmeared with filth, matted locks (on head), clad in rags, bearing a bow in hand and ceaselessly shooting arrows therefrom. And when Ekalavya saw Drona approaching towards him, he went a few steps forward, and touched his feet and prostrated himself on the ground. And the son of the Nishada king worshipping Drona, duly represented himself as his pupil, and clasping his hands in reverence stood before him (awaiting his commands). Then Drona, O king, addressed Ekalavya, saying, "If, O hero, thou art really my pupil, give me then my fees." On hearing these words, Ekalavya was very much gratified, and said in reply, "O illustrious preceptor, what shall I give? Command me; for there is nothing, O foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas, that I may not give unto my preceptor." Drona answered, "O Ekalavya, if thou art really intent on making me a gift, I should like then to have the thumb of thy right hand."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these cruel words of Drona, who had asked of him his thumb as tuition-fee, Ekalavya, ever devoted to truth and desirous also of keeping his promise, with a cheerful face and an unafflicted heart cut off without ado his thumb, and gave it unto Drona. After this, when the Nishada prince began once more to shoot with the help of his remaining fingers, he found, O king, that he had lost his former lightness of hand. And at this Arjuna became happy, the fever (of jealousy) having left him. "'Two of Drona's pupils became very much accomplished in the use of mace. These were Duryodhana and Bhima, who were, however, always jealous of each other. Aswatthaman excelled everyone (in the mysteries of the science of arms). The twins (Nakula and Sahadeva) excelled everybody in handling the sword. Yudhishthira surpassed everybody as a car-warrior; but Arjuna, however, outdistanced everyone in every respect--in intelligence, resourcefulness, strength and perseverance. Accomplished in all weapons, Arjuna became the foremost of even the foremost of car-warriors; and his fame spread all over the earth to the verge of the sea. And although the instruction was the same, the mighty Arjuna excelled all (the princes in lightness of hand). Indeed, in weapons as in devotion to his preceptor, he became the foremost of them all. And amongst all the princes, Arjuna alone became an Atiratha (a car-warrior capable of fighting at one time with sixty thousand foes). And the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra, beholding Bhimasena endued with great strength and Arjuna accomplished in all arms, became very jealous of them. "'O bull among men, one day Drona desirous of testing the comparative excellence of all his pupils in the use of arms, collected them all together after their education had been completed. And before assembling them together, he had caused an artificial bird, as the would be aim, to be placed on the top of a neighbouring tree. And when they were all together, Drona said unto them, "Take up your bows quickly and stand here aiming at that bird on the tree, with arrows fixed on your bowstrings; shoot and cut off the bird's head, as soon as I give the order. I shall give each of you a turn, one by one, my children."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Drona, that foremost of all Angira's sons first addressed Yudhishthira saying, "O irrepressible one, aim with thy arrow and shoot as soon as I give the order." Yudhishthira took up the bow first, as desired, O king, by his preceptor, and stood aiming at the bird. But, O bull of Bharata's race, Drona in an instant, addressing the Kuru prince standing with bow in hand, said, "Behold, O prince, that bird on top of the tree." Yudhishthira replied unto his preceptor, saying, "I do." But the next instant Drona again asked him, "What dost thou see now, O prince? Seest thou the tree, myself or thy brothers?" Yudhishthira answered, "I see the tree, myself, my brothers, and the bird." Drona repeated his question, but was answered as often in the same words. Drona then, vexed with Yudhishthira, reproachingly said, "Stand thou apart. It is not for thee to strike the aim." Then Drona repeated the experiment with Duryodhana and the other sons of Dhritarashtra, one after another, as also with his other pupils, Bhima and the rest, including the princes that had come unto him from other lands. But the answer in every case was the same as Yudhishthira's viz., "We behold the tree, thyself, our fellow- pupils, and the bird." And reproached by their preceptor, they were all ordered, one after another, to stand apart.'" SECTION CXXXV (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'When everyone had failed, Drona smilingly called Arjuna and said unto him, "By thee the aim must be shot; therefore, turn thy eyes to it. Thou must let fly the arrow as soon as I give the order. Therefore, O son, stand here with bow and arrow for an instant." Thus addressed, Arjuna stood aiming at the bird as desired by his preceptor, with his bow bent. An instant after Drona asked him as in the case of others, "Seest thou, O Arjuna, the bird there, the tree, and myself?" Arjuna replied, "I see the bird only, but not the tree, or thyself." Then the irrepressible Drona, well-pleased with Arjuna, the instant after, again said unto that mighty car-warrior amongst the Pandavas, "If thou seest the vulture, then describe it to me." Arjuna said, "I see only the head of the vulture, not its body." At these words of Arjuna, the hair (on Drona's body) stood on end from delight. He then said to Partha, "Shoot." And the latter instantly let fly (his arrow) and with his sharp shaft speedily struck off the head of the vulture on the tree and brought it down to the ground. No sooner was the deed done than Drona clasped Phalguna to his bosom and thought Drupada with his friends had already been vanquished in fight. "'Some time after, O bull of Bharata's race, Drona, accompanied by all of his pupils, went to the bank of the Ganga to bathe in that sacred stream. And when Drona had plunged into the stream, a strong alligator, sent as it were, by Death himself seized him by the thigh. And though himself quite capable, Drona in a seeming hurry asked his pupil to rescue him. And he said, "O, kill this monster and rescue me." Contemporaneously with this speech, Vibhatsu (Arjuna) struck the monster within the water with five sharp arrows irresistible in their course, while the other pupils stood confounded, each at his place. Beholding Arjuna's readiness, Drona considered him to be the foremost of all his pupils, and became highly pleased. The monster, in the meantime cut into pieces by the arrows of Arjuna, released the thigh of illustrious Drona and gave up the ghost. The son of Bharadwaja then addressed the illustrious and mighty car-warrior Arjuna and said, "Accept, O thou of mighty arms, this very superior and irresistible weapon called Brahmasira with the methods of hurling and recalling it. Thou must not, however, ever use it against any human foe, for if hurled at any foe endued with inferior energy, it might burn the whole universe. It is said, O child, that this weapon hath not a peer in the three worlds. Keep it, therefore, with great care, and listen to what I say. If ever, O hero, any foe, not human, contendeth against thee thou mayst then employ it against him for compassing his death in battle." Pledging himself to do what he was bid, Vibhatsu then, with joined hands, received that great weapon. "'The preceptor then, addressing him again, said, "None else in this world will ever become a superior bowman to thee. Vanquished thou shall never be by any foe, and thy achievements will be great."'" SECTION CXXXVI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'O thou of Bharata's race, beholding the sons of Dhritarashtra and Pandu accomplished in arms, Drona, O monarch, addressed king Dhritarashtra, in the presence of Kripa, Somadatta, Valhika, the wise son of Ganga (Bhishma), Vyasa, and Vidura, and said, "O best of Kuru kings, thy children have completed their education. With thy permission, O king, let them now show their proficiency." Hearing him, the king said with a gladdened heart, "O best of Brahmanas, thou hast, indeed, accomplished a great deed. Command me thyself as to the place and the time where and when and the manner also in which the trial may be held. Grief arising from my own blindness maketh me envy those who, blessed with sight, will behold my children's prowess in arm. O Kshatri (Vidura), do all that Drona sayeth. O thou devoted to virtue, I think there is nothing that can be more agreeable to me." Then Vidura, giving the necessary assurance to the king, went out to do what he was bid. And Drona endued with great wisdom, then measured out a piece of land that was void of trees and thickets and furnished with wells and springs. And upon the spot of land so measured out, Drona, that first of eloquent men, selecting a lunar day when the star ascendant was auspicious, offered up sacrifice unto the gods in the presence of the citizens assembled by proclamation to witness the same. And then, O bull among men, the artificers of the king built thereon a large and elegant stage according to the rules laid down in the scriptures, and it was furnished with all kinds of weapons. They also built another elegant hall for the lady-spectators. And the citizens constructed many platforms while the wealthier of them pitched many spacious and high tents all around. "'When the day fixed for the Tournament came, the king accompanied by his ministers, with Bhishma and Kripa, the foremost of preceptors, walking ahead, came unto that theatre of almost celestial beauty constructed of pure gold, and decked with strings of pearls and stones of lapis lazuli. And, O first of victorious men, Gandhari blessed with great good fortune and Kunti, and the other ladies of the royal house-hold, in gorgeous attire and accompanied by their waiting women, joyfully ascended the platforms, like celestial ladies ascending the Sumeru mountain. And the four orders including the Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, desirous of beholding the princes' skill in arms, left the city and came running to the spot. And so impatient was every one to behold the spectacle, that the vast crowd assembled there in almost an instant. And with the sounds of trumpets and drums and the noise of many voices, that vast concourse appeared like an agitated ocean. "'At last, Drona accompanied by his son, dressed in white (attire), with a white sacred thread, white locks, white beard, white garlands, and white sandal-paste rubbed over his body, entered the lists. It seemed as if the Moon himself accompanied by the planet Mars appeared in an unclouded sky. On entering Bharadwaja performed timely worship and caused Brahmanas versed in mantras to celebrate the auspicious rites. And after auspicious and sweet-sounding musical instruments had been struck up as a propitiatory ceremony, some persons entered, equipped with various arms. And then having girded up their loins, those mighty warriors, those foremost ones of Bharata's race (the princes) entered, furnished with finger-protectors (gauntlet), and bows, and quivers. And with Yudhishthira at their head, the valiant princes entered in order of age and began to show wonderful skill with their weapons. Some of the spectators lowered their heads, apprehending fall of arrows while others fearlessly gazed on with wonder. And riding swiftly on horses and managing them "dexterously" the princes began to hit marks with shafts engraved with their respective names. And seeing the prowess of the princes armed with bows and arrows, the spectators thought that they were beholding the city of the Gandharvas, became filled with amazement. And, O Bharata, all on a sudden, some hundreds and thousands, with eyes wide open in wonder, exclaimed, "Well done! Well done!" And having repeatedly displayed their skill and dexterity in the use of bows and arrows and in the management of cars, the mighty warriors took up their swords and bucklers, and began to range the lists, playing their weapons. The spectators saw (with wonder) their agility, the symmetry of their bodies, their grace, their calmness, the firmness of their grasp and their deftness in the use of sword and buckler. Then Vrikodara and Suyodhana, internally delighted (at the prospect of fight), entered the arena, mace in hand, like two single-peaked mountains. And those mighty-armed warriors braced their loins, and summoning all their energy, roared like two infuriate elephants contending for a cow- elephant; and like two infuriated elephants those mighty heroes faultlessly (in consonance with the dictates of the science of arm) careered right and left, circling the lists. And Vidura described to Dhritarashtra and the mother of the Pandavas (Kunti) and Gandhari, all the feats of the princes.'" SECTION CXXXVII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'Upon the Kuru king and Bhima, the foremost of all endued with strength, having entered the arena, the spectators were divided into two parties in consequence of the partiality swaying their affections. Some cried, "Behold the heroic king of the Kurus!"--some-- "Behold Bhima!"--And on account of these cries, there was, all on a sudden, a loud uproar. And seeing the place become like a troubled ocean, the intelligent Bharadwaja said unto his dear son, Aswatthaman, "Restrain both these mighty warriors so proficient in arms. Let not the ire of the assembly be provoked by this combat of Bhima and Duryodhana." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then the son of the preceptor of the princes restrained those combatants with their maces uplifted and resembling two swollen oceans agitated by the winds that blow at the universal dissolution. And Drona himself entering the yard of the arena commanded the musicians to stop, and with a voice deep as that of the clouds addressed these words, "Behold ye now that Partha who is dearer to me than my own son, the master of all arms, the son of Indra himself, and like unto the younger brother of Indra, (Vishnu)!" And having performed the propitiatory rites, the youthful Phalguna, equipped with the finger protector (gauntlet) and his quiver full of shafts and bow in hand, donning his golden mail, appeared in the lists even like an evening cloud reflecting the rays of the setting sun and illumined by the hues of the rainbow and flashes of lightning. "'On seeing Arjuna, the whole assembly were delighted and conchs began to be blown all around with other musical instruments. And there arose a great uproar in consequence of the spectators' exclaiming,--"This is the graceful son of Kunti!"--"This is the middle (third) Pandava!"--"This is the son of the mighty Indra!"--"This is the protector of the Kurus"--"This is the foremost of those versed in arms!"--"This is the foremost of all cherishers of virtue!"--"This is the foremost of the persons of correct behaviour, the great repository of the knowledge of manners!" At those exclamations, the tears of Kunti, mixing with the milk of her breast, wetted her bosom. And his ears being filled with that uproar, that first of men, Dhritarashtra, asked Vidura in delight, "O Kshatri, what is this great uproar for, like unto that of the troubled ocean, arising all on a sudden and rending the very heavens?" Vidura replied, "O mighty monarch, the son of Pandu and Pritha, Phalguna, clad in mail hath entered the lists. And hence this uproar!" Dhritarashtra said, "O thou of soul so great, by the three fires sprung from Pritha who is even like the sacred fuel, I have, indeed, been blessed, favoured and protected!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'When the spectators, excited with delight, had somewhat regained their equanimity, Vibhatsu began to display his lightness in the use of weapons. By the Agneya weapon, he created fire, and by the Varuna weapon he created water, by the Vayavya weapon, he created air, and by the Parjanya weapon he created clouds. And by the Bhauma weapon, he created land, and by the Parvatya weapon, he brought mountains into being. By the Antardhana weapon all these were made to disappear. Now the beloved one of his preceptor (Arjuna) appeared tall and now short; now he was seen on the yoke of his car, and now on the car itself; and the next moment he was on the ground. And the hero favoured by his practised dexterity, hit with his various butts--some tender, some fine and some of thick composition. And like one shaft, he let fly at a time into the mouth of a moving iron-boar five shafts together from his bow-string. And that hero of mighty energy discharged one and twenty arrows into the hollow of a cow's horn hung up on a rope swaying to and fro. In this manner, O sinless one, Arjuna showed his profound skill in the use of sword, bow, and mace, walking over the lists in circles. "'And, O Bharata, when the exhibition had well-nigh ended, the excitement of the spectators had cooled, and the sounds of instruments had died out there was heard proceeding from the gate, the slapping of arms, betokening might and strength, and even like unto the roar of the thunder. And, O king, as soon as this sound was heard, the assembled multitude instantly thought, "Are the mountains splitting or is the earth itself rending asunder, or is the welkin resounding with the roar of gathering clouds?" And then all the spectators turned their eyes towards the gate. And Drona stood, surrounded by the five brothers, the sons of Pritha, and looked like the moon in conjunction with the five-starred constellation Hasta. And Duryodhana, that slayer of foes, stood up in haste and was surrounded by his century of haughty brothers with Aswatthaman amongst them. And that prince, mace in hand, thus surrounded by his hundred brothers with uplifted weapons appeared like Purandara in days of yore, encircled by the celestial host on the occasion of the battle with the Danavas.'" SECTION CXXXVIII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'When the spectators, with eyes expanded with wonder, made way for that subjugator of hostile cities, Karna, that hero with his natural mail and face brightened with ear-rings, took up his bow and girded on his sword, and then entered the spacious lists, like a walking cliff. That far-famed destroyer of hostile hosts, the large-eyed Karna, was born of Pritha in her maidenhood. He was a portion of the hot- beamed Sun and his energy and prowess were like unto those of the lion, or the bull, or the leader of a herd of elephants. In splendour he resembled the Sun, in loveliness the Moon, and in energy the fire. Begotten by the Sun himself, he was tall in stature like a golden palm tree, and, endued with the vigour of youth, he was capable of slaying a lion. Handsome in features, he was possessed of countless accomplishments. The mighty-armed warrior, eyeing all around the arena, bowed indifferently to Drona and Kripa. And the entire assembly, motionless and with steadfast gaze, thought, "Who is he?" And they became agitated in their curiosity to know the warrior. And that foremost of eloquent men, the offspring of the Sun, in a voice deep as that of the clouds, addressed his unknown brother, the son of the subduer of the Asura, Paka (Indra), saying, "O Partha, I shall perform feats before this gazing multitude, excelling all thou hast performed! Beholding them, thou shall be amazed." And, O thou best of those blest with speech, he had hardly done when the spectators stood up all at once, uplifted by some instrument, as it were. And, O tiger among men, Duryodhana was filled with delight, while Vibhatsu was instantly all abashment and anger. Then with the permission of Drona, the mighty Karna, delighting in battle, there did all that Partha had done before. And, O Bharata, Duryodhana with his brothers thereupon embraced Karna in joy and then addressed him saying, "Welcome O mighty-armed warrior! I have obtained thee by good fortune, O polite one! Live thou as thou pleasest, and command me, and the kingdom of the Kurus." Karna replied, "When thou hast said it, I regard it as already accomplished. I only long for thy friendship. And, O lord, my wish is even for a single combat with Arjuna." Duryodhana said, "Do thou with me enjoy the good things of life! Be thou the benefactor of thy friend, and, O represser of enemies, place thou thy feet on the heads of all foes." "'Arjuna, after this, deeming himself disgraced, said unto Karna stationed amidst the brothers like unto a cliff, "That path which the unwelcome intruder and the uninvited talker cometh to, shall be thine, O Karna, for thou shall be slain by me." Karna replied, "This arena is meant for all, not for thee alone, O Phalguna! They are kings who are superior in energy; and verily the Kshatriya regardeth might and might alone. What need of altercation which is the exercise of the weak? O Bharata, speak then in arrows until with arrows I strike off thy head today before the preceptor himself!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hastily embraced by his brothers, Partha that subduer of hostile cities, with the permission of Drona, advanced for the combat. On the other side, Karna, having been embraced by Duryodhana with his brothers, taking up his bow and arrows, stood ready for the fight. Then the firmament became enveloped in clouds emitting flashes of lightning, and the coloured bow of Indra appeared shedding its effulgent rays. And the clouds seemed to laugh on account of the rows of white cranes that were then on the wing. And seeing Indra thus viewing the arena from affection (for his son), the sun too dispersed the clouds from over his own offspring. And Phalguna remained deep hid under cover of the clouds, while Karna remained visible, being surrounded by the rays of the Sun. And the son of Dhritarashtra stood by Karna, and Bharadwaja and Kripa and Bhishma remained with Partha. And the assembly was divided, as also the female spectators. And knowing the state of things, Kunti the daughter of Bhoja, swooned away. And by the help of female attendants, Vidura, versed in the lore of all duties, revived the insensible Kunti by sprinkling sandal-paste and water on her person. On being restored to consciousness, Kunti, seeing her two sons clad in mail, was seized with fear, but she could do nothing (to protect them). And beholding both the warriors with bows strung in their hands the son of Saradwat, viz., Kripa, knowing all duties and cognisant of the rules regulating duels, addressed Karna, saying "This Pandava, who is the youngest son of Kunti, belongeth to the Kaurava race: he will engage in combat with thee. But, O mighty- armed one, thou too must tell us thy lineage and the names of thy father and mother and the royal line of which thou art the ornament. Learning all this, Partha will fight with thee or not (as he will think fit). Sons of kings never fight with men of inglorious lineage."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'When he was thus addressed by Kripa, Karna's countenance became like unto a lotus pale and torn with the pelting showers in the rainy season. Duryodhana said, "O preceptor, verily the scriptures have it that three classes of persons can lay claim to royalty, viz., persons of the blood royal, heroes, and lastly, those that lead armies. If Phalguna is unwilling to fight with one who is not a king, I will install Karna as king of Anga."' "Vaisampayana said, 'At that very moment, seated on a golden seat, with parched paddy and with flowers and water-pots and much gold, the mighty warrior Karna was installed king by Brahmanas versed in mantras. And the royal umbrella was held over his head, while Yak-tails waved around that redoubtable hero of graceful mien. And the cheers, having ceased, king (Karna) said unto the Kaurava Duryodhana, "O tiger among monarchs, what shall I give unto thee that may compare with thy gift of a kingdom? O king, I will do all thou biddest!" And Suyodhana said unto him, "I eagerly wish for thy friendship." Thus spoken to, Karna replied, "Be it so." And they embraced each other in joy, and experienced great happiness.'" SECTION CXXXIX (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After this, with his sheet loosely hanging down, Adhiratha entered the lists, perspiring and trembling, and supporting himself on a staff. "'Seeing him, Karna left his bow and impelled by filial regard bowed down his head still wet with the water of inauguration. And then the charioteer, hurriedly covering his feet with the end of his sheet, addressed Karna crowned with success as his son. And the charioteer embraced Karna and from excess of affection bedewed his head with tears, that head still wet with the water sprinkled over it on account of the coronation as king of Anga. Seeing the charioteer, the Pandava Bhimasena took Karna for a charioteer's son, and said by way of ridicule, "O son of a charioteer, thou dost not deserve death in fight at the hands of Partha. As befits thy race take thou anon the whip. And, O worst of mortals, surely thou art not worthy to sway the kingdom of Anga, even as a dog doth not deserve the butter placed before the sacrificial fire." Karna, thus addressed, with slightly quivering lips fetched a deep sigh, looked at the God of the day in the skies. And even as a mad elephant riseth from an assemblage of lotuses, the mighty Duryodhana rose in wrath from among his brothers, and addressed that performer of dreadful deeds, Bhimasena, present there, "O Vrikodara, it behoveth thee not to speak such words. Might is the cardinal virtue of a Kshatriya, and even a Kshatriya of inferior birth deserveth to be fought with. The lineage of heroes, like the sources of a lordly river, is ever unknown. The fire that covereth the whole world riseth from the waters. The thunder that slayeth the Danavas was made of a bone of (a mortal named) Dadhichi. The illustrious deity Guha, who combines in his composition the portions of all the other deities is of a lineage unknown. Some call him the offspring of Agni; some, of Krittika, some, of Rudra, and some of Ganga. It hath been heard by us that persons born in the Kshatriya order have become Brahmanas. Viswamitra and others (born Kshatriyas) have obtained the eternal Brahma. The foremost of all wielders of weapons, the preceptor Drona hath been born in a waterpot and Kripa of the race of Gotama hath sprung from a clump of heath. Your own births, ye Pandava princes, are known to me. Can a she-deer bring forth a tiger (like Karna), of the splendour of the Sun, and endued with every auspicious mark, and born also with a natural mail and ear-rings? This prince among men deserveth the sovereignty of the world, not of Anga only, in consequence of the might of his arm and my swearing to obey him in everything. If there be anybody here to whom all that I have done unto Karna hath become intolerable, let him ascend his chariot and bend his bow with the help of his feet."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then there arose a confused murmur amongst the spectators approving of Duryodhana's speech. The sun, however, went down, but prince Duryodhana taking Karna's hand led him out of the arena lighted with countless lamps. And, O king, the Pandavas also, accompanied by Drona and Kripa and Bhishma, returned to their abodes. And the people, too, came away, some naming Arjuna, some Karna, and some Duryodhana (as the victor of the day). And Kunti, recognising her son in Karna by the various auspicious marks on his person and beholding him installed in the sovereignty of Anga, was from motherly affection, very pleased. And Duryodhana, O monarch, having obtained Karna (in this way), banished his fears arising out of Arjuna's proficiency in arms. And the heroic Karna, accomplished in arms, began to gratify Duryodhana by sweet speeches, while Yudhishthira was impressed with the belief that there was no warrior on earth like unto Karna.'" SECTION CXL (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'Beholding the Pandavas and the son of Dhritarashtra accomplished in arms, Drona thought the time had come when he could demand the preceptorial fee. And, O king, assembling his pupils one day together, the preceptor Drona asked of them the fee, saying, "Seize Drupada, the king of Panchala in battle and bring him unto me. That shall be the most acceptable fee." Those warriors then answering, "So be it", speedily mounted up on their chariots, and for bestowing upon their preceptor the fee he had demanded, marched out, accompanied by him. Those bulls among men, smiting the Panchalas on their way, laid siege to the capital of the great Drupada. And Duryodhana and Karna and the mighty Yuyutsu, and Duhsasana and Vikarna and Jalasandha and Sulochana,--these and many other foremost of Kshatriya princes of great prowess, vied with one another in becoming the foremost in the attack. And the princes, riding in first class chariots and following the cavalry, entered the hostile capital, and proceeded along the streets. "'Meanwhile, the king of Panchala, beholding that mighty force and hearing its loud clamour, came out of his palace, accompanied by his brothers. Though king Yajnasena was well-armed, the Kuru army assailed him with a shower of arrows, uttering their war-cry. Yajnasena, however, not easy to be subdued in battle, approaching the Kurus upon his white chariot, began to rain his fierce arrows around. "'Before the battle commenced, Arjuna, beholding the pride of prowess displayed by the princes, addressed his preceptor, that best of Brahmanas, Drona, and said, "We shall exert ourselves after these have displayed their prowess. The king of Panchala can never be taken on the field of the battle by any of these." Having said this, the sinless son of Kunti surrounded by his brothers, waited outside the town at a distance of a mile from it. Meanwhile Drupada beholding the Kuru host, rushed forward and pouring a fierce shower of arrows around, terribly afflicted the Kuru ranks. And such was his lightness of motion on the field of battle that, though he was fighting unsupported on a single chariot, the Kurus from panic supposed that there were many Drupadas opposed to them. And the fierce arrows of that monarch fell fast on all sides, till conchs and trumpets and drums by thousands began to be sounded by the Panchalas from their houses (giving the alarm). Then there arose from the mighty Panchala host a roar terrible as that of the lion, while the twang of their bow- strings seemed to rend the very heavens. Then Duryodhana and Vikarna, Suvahu and Dirghalochana and Duhsasana becoming furious, began to shower their arrows upon the enemy. But the mighty bowman, Prishata's son, invincible in battle, though very much pierced with the arrows of the enemy, instantly began, O Bharata, to afflict the hostile ranks with greater vigour. And careering over the field of battle like a fiery wheel, king Drupada with his arrows smote Duryodhana and Vikarna and even the mighty Karna and many other heroic princes and numberless warriors, and slaked their thirst for battle. Then all the citizens showered upon the Kurus various missiles like clouds showering rain-drops upon the earth. Young and old, they all rushed to battle, assailing the Kurus with vigour. The Kauravas, then, O Bharata, beholding the battle become frightful, broke and fled wailing towards the Pandavas. "'The Pandavas, hearing the terrible wail of the beaten host, reverentially saluted Drona and ascended their chariots. Then Arjuna hastily bidding Yudhishthira not to engage in the fight, rushed forward, appointing the sons of Madri (Nakula and Sahadeva) the protectors of his chariot-wheels, while Bhimasena ever fighting in the van, mace in hand, ran ahead. The sinless Arjuna, thus accompanied by his brothers, hearing the shouts of the enemy, advanced towards them, filling the whole region with the rattle of his chariot-wheels. And like a Makara entering the sea, the mighty- armed Bhima, resembling a second Yama, mace in hand, entered the Panchala ranks, fiercely roaring like the ocean in a tempest. And Bhima, mace in hand, first rushed towards the array of elephants in the hostile force, while Arjuna, proficient in battle, assailed that force with the prowess of his arms. And Bhima, like the great Destroyer himself, began to slay those elephants with his mace. Those huge animals, like unto mountains, struck with Bhima's mace, had their heads broken into pieces. Covered with stream of blood, they began to fall upon the ground like cliffs loosened by thunder. And the Pandavas prostrated on the ground elephants and horses and cars by thousands and slew many foot-soldiers and many car-warriors. Indeed, as a herdsman in the woods driveth before him with his staff countless cattle with ease, so did Vrikodara drive before him the chariots and elephants of the hostile force. "'Meanwhile, Phalguna, impelled by the desire of doing good unto Bharadwaja's son, assailed the son of Prishata with a shower of arrows and felled him from the elephant on which he was seated. And, O monarch, Arjuna, like unto the terrible fire that consumeth all things at the end of the Yuga, began to prostrate on the ground horses and cars and elephants by thousands. The Panchalas and the Srinjayas, on the other hand, thus assailed by the Pandava, met him with a perfect shower of weapons of various kinds. And they sent up a loud shout and fought desperately with Arjuna. The battle became furious and terrible to behold. Hearing the enemy's shouts, the son of Indra was filled with wrath and assailing the hostile host with a thick shower of arrows, rushed towards it furiously afflicting it with renewed vigour. They who observed the illustrious Arjuna at that time could not mark any interval between his fixing the arrows on the bowstring and letting them off. Loud were the shouts that rose there, mingled with cheers of approval. Then the king of the Panchalas, accompanied by (the generalissimo of his forces) Satyajit, rushed with speed at Arjuna like the Asura Samvara rushing at the chief of the celestials (in days of yore). Then Arjuna covered the king of Panchala with a shower of arrows. Then there arose a frightful uproar among the Panchala host like unto the roar of a mighty lion springing at the leader of a herd of elephants. And beholding Arjuna rushing at the king of Panchala to seize him, Satyajit of great prowess rushed at him. And the two warriors, like unto Indra and the Asura Virochana's son (Vali), approaching each other for combat, began to grind each other's ranks. Then Arjuna with great force pierced Satyajit with ten keen shafts at which feat the spectators were all amazed. But Satyajit, without losing any time, assailed Arjuna with a hundred shafts. Then that mighty car-warrior, Arjuna, endued with remarkable lightness of motion, thus covered by that shower of arrows, rubbed his bow-string to increase the force and velocity of his shafts. Then cutting in twain his antagonist's bow, Arjuna rushed at the king of the Panchalas, but Satyajit, quickly taking up a tougher bow, pierced with his arrows Partha, his chariot, charioteer, and horses. Arjuna, thus assailed in battle by the Panchala warrior, forgave not his foe. Eager to slay him at once, he pierced with a number of arrows his antagonist's horses, flags, bow, clenched (left) fist, charioteer, and the attendant at his back. Then Satyajit, finding his bows repeatedly cut in twain and his horses slain, desisted from the fight. "'The king of the Panchalas, beholding his general thus discomfited in the encounter, himself began to shower his arrows upon the Pandava prince. Then Arjuna, that foremost of warriors, crowned with success, began to fight furiously, and quickly cutting his enemy's bow in twain as also his flagstaff which he caused to fall down, pierced his antagonist's horses, and charioteer also with five arrows. Then throwing aside his bow Arjuna took his quiver, and taking out a scimitar and sending forth a loud shout, leaped from his own chariot upon that of his foe. And standing there with perfect fearlessness he seized Drupada as Garuda seizeth a huge snake after agitating the waters of the ocean. At the sight of this, the Panchala troops ran away in all directions. "'Then Dhananjaya, having thus exhibited the might of his arm in the presence of both hosts, sent forth a loud shout and came out of the Panchala ranks. And beholding him returning (with his captive), the princes began to lay waste Drupada's capital. Addressing them Arjuna said, "This best of monarchs, Drupada, is a relative of the Kuru heroes. Therefore, O Bhima, slay not his soldiers. Let us only give unto our preceptor his fee."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'O king, thus prevented by Arjuna, the mighty Bhimasena, though unsatiated with the exercise of battle, refrained from the act of slaughter. And, O bull of the Bharata race, the princes then, taking Drupada with them after having seized him on the field of battle along with his friends and counsellors, offered him unto Drona. And Drona beholding Drupada thus brought under complete control--humiliated and deprived of wealth--remembered that monarch's former hostility and addressing him said, "Thy kingdom and capital have been laid waste by me. But fear not for thy life, though it dependeth now on the will of thy foe. Dost thou now desire to revive thy friendship (with me)?" Having said this, he smiled a little and again said, "Fear not for thy life, brave king! We, Brahmanas, are ever forgiving. And, O bull among Kshatriyas, my affection and love for thee have grown with me in consequence of our having sported together in childhood in the hermitage. Therefore, O king, I ask for thy friendship again. And as a boon (unasked), I give thee half the kingdom (that was thine). Thou toldest me before that none who was not a king could be a king's friend. Therefore is it, O Yajnasena, that I retain half thy kingdom. Thou art the king of all the territory lying on the southern side of the Bhagirathi, while I become king of all the territory on the north of that river. And, O Panchala, if it pleaseth thee, know me hence for thy friend." "'On hearing these words, Drupada answered, "Thou art of noble soul and great prowess. Therefore, O Brahmana, I am not surprised at what thou doest. I am very much gratified with thee, and I desire thy eternal friendship."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After this, O Bharata, Drona released the king of Panchala, and cheerfully performing the usual offices of regard, bestowed upon him half the kingdom. Thenceforth Drupada began to reside sorrowfully in (the city of) Kampilya within (the province of) Makandi on the banks of the Ganga filled with many towns and cities. And after his defeat by Drona, Drupada also ruled the southern Panchalas up to the bank of the Charmanwati river. And Drupada from that day was well-convinced that he could not, by Kshatriya might alone, defeat Drona, being very much his inferior in Brahma (spiritual) power. And he, therefore, began to wander over the whole earth to find out the means of obtaining a son (who would subjugate his Brahmana foe). "'Meanwhile Drona continued to reside in Ahicchatra. Thus, O king, was the territory of Ahicchatra full of towns and cities, obtained by Arjuna, and bestowed upon Drona.'" SECTION CXLI (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'After the expiration, O king, of a year from this, Dhritarashtra, moved by kindness for the people, installed Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, as the heir-apparent of the kingdom on account of his firmness, fortitude, patience, benevolence, frankness and unswerving honesty (of heart). And within a short time Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, by his good behaviour, manners and close application to business, overshadowed the deeds of his father. And the second Pandava, Vrikodara, began to receive continued lessons from Sankarshana (Valarama) in encounters with the sword and the mace and on the chariot. And after Bhima's education was finished, he became in strength like unto Dyumatsena himself and continuing to live in harmony with his brothers, he began to exert his prowess. And Arjuna became celebrated for the firmness of his grasp (of weapons), for his lightness of motion, precision of aim, and his proficiency in the use of the Kshura, Naracha, Vala and Vipatha weapons, indeed, of all weapons, whether straight or crooked or heavy. And Drona certified that there was none in the world who was equal to Arjuna in lightness of hand and general proficiency. "'One day, Drona, addressing Arjuna before the assembled Kaurava princes, said, "There was a disciple of Agastya in the science of arms called Agnivesa. He was my preceptor and I, his disciple. By ascetic merit I obtained from him a weapon called Brahmasira which could never be futile and which was like unto thunder itself, capable of consuming the whole earth. That weapon, O Bharata, from what I have done, may now pass from disciple to disciple. While imparting it to me, my preceptor said, 'O son of Bharadwaja, never shouldst thou hurl this weapon at any human being, especially at one who is of poor energy. Thou hast, O hero, obtained that celestial weapon. None else deserveth it. But obey the command of the Rishi (Agnivesa).' And, look here, Arjuna, give me now the preceptorial fee in the presence of these thy cousins and relatives." When Arjuna, on hearing this, pledged his word that he would give what the preceptor demanded, the latter said, "O sinless one, thou must fight with me when I fight with thee." And that bull among the Kuru princes thereupon pledged his word unto Drona and touching his feet, went away northward. Then there arose a loud shout covering the whole earth bounded by her belt of seas to the effect that there was no bowman in the whole world like unto Arjuna. And, indeed, Dhananjaya, in encounters with the mace and the sword and on the chariot as also with the bow, acquired wonderful proficiency. Sahadeva obtained the whole science of morality and duties from (Vrihaspati) the spiritual chief of celestials, and continued to live under the control of his brothers. And Nakula, the favourite of his brothers taught by Drona, became known as a skilful warrior and a great car-warrior (Ati-ratha). Indeed, Arjuna and the other Pandava princes became so powerful that they slew in battle the great Sauvira who had performed a sacrifice extending over three years, undaunted by the raids of the Gandharvas. And the king of the Yavanas himself whom the powerful Pandu even had failed to bring under subjection was brought by Arjuna under control. Then again Vipula, the king of the Sauviras, endued with great prowess, who had always shown a disregard for the Kurus, was made by the intelligent Arjuna to feel the edge of his power. And Arjuna also repressed by means of his arrows (the pride of) king Sumitra of Sauvira, also known by the name of Dattamitra who had resolutely sought an encounter with him. The third of the Pandava princes, assisted by Bhima, on only a single car subjugated all the kings of the East backed by ten thousand cars. In the same way, having conquered on a single car the whole of the south, Dhananjaya sent unto the kingdom of the Kurus a large booty. "'Thus did those foremost of men, the illustrious Pandavas, conquering the territories of other kings, extend the limits of their own kingdom. But beholding the great prowess and strength of those mighty bowmen, king Dhritarashtra's sentiments towards the Pandavas became suddenly poisoned, and from that day the monarch became so anxious that he could hardly sleep.'" SECTION CXLII (Sambhava Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'On hearing that the heroic sons of Pandu endued with excess of energy had become so mighty, king Dhritarashtra became very miserable with anxiety. Then summoning unto his side Kanika, that foremost of minister, well-versed in the science of politics and an expert in counsels the king said, "O best of Brahmanas, the Pandavas are daily overshadowing the earth. I am exceedingly jealous of them. Should I have peace or war with them? O Kanika, advise me truly, for I shall do as thou biddest."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'That best of Brahmanas, thus addressed by the king, freely answered him in these pointed words well-agreeing with the import of political science. "'"Listen to me, O sinless king, as I answer thee. And, O best of Kuru kings, it behoveth thee not to be angry with me after hearing all I say. Kings should ever be ready with uplifted maces (to strike when necessary), and they should ever increase their prowess. Carefully avoiding all faults themselves they should ceaselessly watch over the faults of their foes and take advantage of them. If the king is always ready to strike, everybody feareth him. Therefore the king should ever have recourse to chastisement in all he doeth. He should so conduct himself that his foe may not detect any weak side in him. But by means of the weakness he detecteth in his foe he should pursue him (to destruction). He should always conceal, like the tortoise concealing its body, his means and ends, and he should always keep back his own weakness from the sight of others. And having begun a particular act, he should ever accomplish it thoroughly. Behold, a thorn, if not extracted wholly, produceth a festering sore. The slaughter of a foe who doeth thee evil is always praiseworthy. If the foe be one of great prowess, one should watch for the hour of his disaster and then kill him without any scruples. If he should happen to be a great warrior, his hour of disaster also should be watched and he should then be induced to fly. O sire, an enemy should never be scorned, however contemptible. A spark of fire is capable of consuming an extensive forest if only it can spread from one object to another in proximity. Kings should sometimes feign blindness and deafness, for if impotent to chastise, they should pretend not to notice the faults that call for chastisement. On occasions, such as these, let them regard their bows as made of straw. But they should be always on the alert like a herd of deer sleeping in the woods. When thy foe is in thy power, destroy him by every means open or secret. Do not show him any mercy, although he seeketh thy protection. A foe, or one that hath once injured thee, should be destroyed by lavishing money, if necessary, for by killing him thou mayest be at thy ease. The dead can never inspire fear. Thou must destroy the three, five and seven (resources) of thy foes. Thou must destroy thy foes root and branch. Then shouldst thou destroy their allies and partisans. The allies and partisans can never exist if the principal be destroyed. If the root of the tree is torn up, the branches and twigs can never exist as before. Carefully concealing thy own means and ends, thou shouldst always watch thy foes, always seeking their flaws. Thou shouldst, O king, rule thy kingdom, always anxiously watching thy foes. By maintaining the perpetual fire by sacrifices, by brown cloths, by matted locks, and by hides of animals for thy bedding, shouldst thou at first gain the confidence of thy foes, and when thou has gained it thou shouldst then spring upon them like a wolf. For it hath been said that in the acquisition of wealth even the garb of holiness might be employed as a hooked staff to bend down a branch in order to pluck the fruits that are ripe. The method followed in the plucking of fruits should be the method in destroying foes, for thou shouldst proceed on the principle of selection. Bear thy foe upon thy shoulders till the time cometh when thou canst throw him down, breaking him into pieces like an earthen pot thrown down with violence upon a stony surface. The foe must never be let off even though he addresseth thee most piteously. No pity thou show him but slay him at once. By the arts of conciliation or the expenditure of money should the foe be slain. By creating disunion amongst his allies, or by the employment of force, indeed by every means in thy power shouldst thou destroy thy foe." "'Dhritarashtra said, "Tell me truly how a foe can be destroyed by the arts of conciliation or the expenditure of money, or by producing disunion or by the employment of force." "'Kanika replied, "Listen, O monarch, to the history of a jackal dwelling in days of yore in the forest and fully acquainted with the science of politics. There was a wise jackal, mindful of his own interests who lived in the company of four friends, viz., a tiger, a mouse, a wolf, and a mongoose. One day they saw in the woods a strong deer, the leader of a herd, whom, however, they could not seize for his fleetness and strength. They thereupon called a council for consultation. The jackal opening the proceedings said, 'O tiger, thou hast made many an effort to seize this deer, but all in vain simply because this deer is young, fleet and very intelligent. Let now the mouse go and eat into its feet when it lieth asleep. And when this is done, let the tiger approach and seize it. Then shall we all, with great pleasure feast on it.' Hearing these words of the jackal, they all set to work very cautiously as he directed. And the mouse ate into the feet of the deer and the tiger killed it as anticipated. And beholding the body of the deer lying motionless on the ground, the jackal said unto his companions, 'Blessed be ye! Go and perform your ablutions. In the meantime I will look after the deer.' Hearing what the jackal said, they all went into a stream. And the jackal waited there, deeply meditating upon what he should do. The tiger endued with great strength, returned first of all to the spot after having performed his ablutions. And he saw the jackal there plunged in meditation. The tiger said, 'Why art thou so sorrowful, O wise one! Thou art the foremost of all intelligent beings. Let us enjoy ourselves today by feasting on this carcass.' The jackal said, 'Hear, O mighty-armed one, what the mouse hath said. He hath even said, "O, fie on the strength of the king of the beasts! This deer hath been slain by me. By might of my arm he will today gratify his hunger." When he hath boasted in such a language, I, for my part, do not wish to touch this food.' The tiger replied, 'If, indeed, the mouse hath said so, my sense is now awakened. I shall, from this day, slay with the might of my own arms, creatures ranging the forest and then feast on their flesh.' Having said this, the tiger went away. "'"And after the tiger had left the spot, the mouse came. And seeing the mouse come, the jackal addressed him and said, 'Blest be thou, O mouse, but listen to what the mongoose hath said. He hath even said, "The carcass of this deer is poison (the tiger having touched it with his claws). I will not eat of it. On the other hand, if thou, O jackal, permittest it, I will even slay the mouse and feast on him."' Hearing this the mouse became alarmed and quickly entered his hole. And after the mouse had gone, the wolf, O king, came there having performed his ablutions. And seeing the wolf come, the jackal said unto him, 'The king of the beasts hath been angry with thee. Evil is certain to overtake thee. He is expected here with his wife. Do as thou pleasest.' Thus was the wolf also, fond of animal flesh, got rid of by the jackal. And the wolf fled, contracting his body into the smallest dimensions. It was then that the mongoose came. And, O king, the jackal, seeing him come, said, 'By the might of my arm have I defeated the others who have already fled. Fight with me first and then eat of this flesh as you please.' The mongoose replied, 'When, indeed, the tiger, the wolf, and the intelligent mouse have all been defeated by thee, heroes as they are, thou seemest to be a greater hero still. I do not desire to fight with thee.' Saying this, the mongoose also went away." "'Kanika continued, "When they all had thus left the place, the jackal, well-pleased with the success of his policy, alone ate up that flesh. If kings always act in this way, they can be happy. Thus should the timid by exciting their fears, the courageous by the arts of conciliation, the covetous by gift of wealth, and equals and inferiors by exhibition of prowess be brought under thy sway. Besides all this, O king, that I have said, listen now to something else that I say." "'Kanika continued, "If thy son, friend, brother, father, or even the spiritual preceptor, anyone becometh thy foe, thou shouldst, if desirous of prosperity, slay him without scruples. By curses and incantations, by gift of wealth, by poison, or by deception, the foe should be slain. He should never be neglected from disdain. If both the parties be equal and success uncertain, then he that acteth with diligence groweth in prosperity. If the spiritual preceptor himself be vain, ignorant of what should be done and what left undone, and vicious in his ways, even he should be chastised. If thou art angry, show thyself as if thou art not so, speaking even then with a smile on thy lips. Never reprove any one with indications of anger (in thy speech). And O Bharata, speak soft words before thou smitest and even while thou art smiting! After the smiting is over, pity the victim, and grieve for him, and even shed tears. Comforting thy foe by conciliation, by gift of wealth, and smooth behaviour, thou must smite him when he walketh not aright. Thou shouldst equally smite the heinous offender who liveth by the practice of virtue, for the garb of virtue simply covereth his offences like black clouds covering the mountains. Thou shouldst burn the house of that person whom thou punishest with death. And thou shouldst never permit beggars and atheists and thieves to dwell in thy kingdom. By a sudden sally or pitched battle, by poison or by corrupting his allies, by gift of wealth, by any means in thy power, thou shouldst destroy thy foe. Thou mayest act with the greatest cruelty. Thou shouldst make thy teeth sharp to give a fatal bite. And thou should ever smite so effectually that thy foe may not again raise his head. Thou shouldst ever stand in fear of even one from whom there is no fear, not to speak of him from whom there is such. For if the first be ever powerful he may destroy thee to the root (for thy unpreparedness). Thou shouldst never trust the faithless, nor trust too much those that are faithful, for if those in whom thou confidest prove thy foes, thou art certain to be annihilated. After testing their faithfulness thou shouldst employ spies in thy own kingdom and in the kingdoms of others. Thy spies in foreign kingdoms should be apt deceivers and persons in the garb of ascetics. Thy spies should be placed in gardens, places of amusement, temples and other holy places, drinking halls, streets, and with the (eighteen) tirthas (viz., the minister, the chief priest, the heir- presumptive, the commander-in-chief, the gate-keepers of the court, persons in the inner apartments, the jailor, the chief surveyor, the head of the treasury, the general executant of orders, the chief of the town police, the chief architect, the chief justice, the president of the council, the chief of the punitive department, the commander of the fort, the chief of the arsenal, the chief of the frontier guards, and the keeper of the forests), and in places of sacrifice, near wells, on mountains and in rivers, in forests, and in all places where people congregate. In speech thou shouldst ever be humble, but let thy heart be ever sharp as razor. And when thou art engaged in doing even a very cruel and terrible act, thou shouldst talk with smiles on thy lips. If desirous of prosperity, thou shouldst adopt all arts--humility, oath, conciliation, worshipping the feet of others by lowering thy head, inspiring hope, and the like. And, a person conversant with the rules of policy is like a tree decked with flowers but bearing no fruit; or, if bearing fruit, these must be at a great height not easily attainable from the ground; and if any of these fruits seem to be ripe care must be taken to make it appear raw. Conducting himself in such a way, he shall never fade. Virtue, wealth and pleasure have both their evil and good effects closely knit together. While extracting the effects that are good, those that are evil should be avoided. Those that practise virtue (incessantly) are made unhappy for want of wealth and the neglect of pleasure. Those again in pursuit of wealth are made unhappy for the neglect of two others. And so those who pursue pleasure suffer for their inattention to virtue and wealth. Therefore, thou shouldst pursue virtue, wealth and pleasure, in such a way that thou mayest not have to suffer therefrom. With humiliation and attention, without jealousy and solicitous of accomplishing thy purpose, shouldst thou, in all sincerity, consult with the Brahmanas. When thou art fallen, thou shouldst raise thyself by any means, gentle or violent; and after thou hast thus raised thyself thou shouldst practise virtue. He that hath never been afflicted with calamity can never have prosperity. This may be seen in the life of one who surviveth his calamities. He that is afflicted with sorrow should be consoled by the recitation of the history of persons of former times (like those of Nala and Rama). He whose heart hath been unstrung by sorrow should be consoled with hopes of future prosperity. He again who is learned and wise should be consoled by pleasing offices presently rendered unto him. He who, having concluded a treaty with an enemy, reposeth at ease as if he hath nothing more to do, is very like a person who awaketh, fallen down from the top of a tree whereon he had slept. A king should ever keep to himself his counsels without fear of calumny, and while beholding everything with the eyes of his spies, he should take care to conceal his own emotions before the spies of his enemies. Like a fisherman who becometh prosperous by catching and killing fish, a king can never grow prosperous without tearing the vitals of his enemy and without doing some violent deeds. The might of thy foe, as represented by his armed force, should ever be completely destroyed, by ploughing it up (like weeds) and mowing it down and otherwise afflicting it by disease, starvation, and want of drink. A person in want never approacheth (from love) one in affluence; and when one's purpose hath been accomplished, one hath no need to approach him whom he had hitherto looked to for its accomplishment. Therefore, when thou doest anything never do it completely, but ever leave something to be desired for by others (whose services thou mayest need). One who is desirous of prosperity should with diligence seek allies and means, and carefully conduct his wars. His exertions in these respects should always be guided by prudence. A prudent king should ever act in such a way that friends and foes may never know his motive before the commencement of his acts. Let them know all when the act hath been commenced or ended, and as long as danger doth not come, so long only shall thou act as if thou art afraid. But when it hath overtaken thee, thou must grapple with it courageously. He who trusteth in a foe who hath been brought under subjection by force, summoneth his own death as a crab by her act of conception. Thou shouldst always reckon the future act as already arrived (and concert measures for meeting it), else, from want of calmness caused by haste, thou mayest overlook an important point in meeting it when it is before thee. A person desirous of prosperity should always exert with prudence, adopting his measures to time and place. He should also act with an eye to destiny as capable of being regulated by mantras and sacrificial rites; and to virtue, wealth, and pleasure. It is well-known that time and place (if taken into consideration) always produce the greatest good. If the foe is insignificant, he should not yet be despised, for he may soon grow like a palmyra tree extending its roots or like a spark of fire in the deep woods that may soon burst into an extensive conflagration. As a little fire gradually fed with faggots soon becometh capable of consuming even the biggest blocks, so the person who increaseth his power by making alliances and friendships soon becometh capable of subjugating even the most formidable foe. The hope thou givest unto thy foe should be long deferred before it is fulfilled; and when the time cometh for its fulfilment, invent some pretext for deferring it still. Let that pretext be shown as founded upon some reason, and let that reason itself be made to appear as founded on some other reason. Kings should, in the matter of destroying their foes, ever resemble razors in every particular; unpitying as these are sharp, hiding their intents as these are concealed in their leathern cases, striking when the opportunity cometh as these are used on proper occasions, sweeping off their foes with all their allies and dependants as these shave the head or the chin without leaving a single hair. O supporter of the dignity of the Kurus, bearing thyself towards the Pandavas and others also as policy dictateth, act in such a way that thou mayest not have to grieve in future. Well do I know that thou art endued with every blessing, and possessed of every mark of good fortune. Therefore, O king, protect thyself from the sons of Pandu! O king, the sons of Pandu are stronger than their cousins (thy sons); therefore, O chastiser of foes, I tell thee plainly what thou shouldst do. Listen to it, O king, with thy children, and having listened to it, exert yourselves (to do the needful). O king, act in such a way that there may not be any fear for thee from the Pandavas. Indeed, adopt such measures consonant with the science of policy that thou mayest not have to grieve in the future." "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having delivered himself thus Kanika returned to his abode, while the Kuru king Dhritarashtra became pensive and melancholy.'" SECTION CXLIII (Jatugriha Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then the son of Suvala (Sakuni), king Duryodhana, Duhsasana and Karna, in consultation with one another, formed an evil conspiracy. With the sanction of Dhritarashtra, the king of the Kurus, they resolved to burn to death Kunti and her (five) sons. But that wise Vidura, capable of reading the heart by external signs, ascertained the intention of these wicked persons by observing their countenances alone. Then the sinless Vidura, of soul enlightened by true knowledge, and devoted to the good of the Pandavas, came to the conclusion that Kunti with her children should fly away from her foes. And providing for that purpose a boat strong enough to withstand both wind and wave, he addressed Kunti and said, "This Dhritarashtra hath been born for destroying the fame and offspring of the (Kuru) race. Of wicked soul, he is about to cast off eternal virtue. O blessed one, I have kept ready on the stream a boat capable of withstanding both wind and wave. Escape by it with thy children from the net that death hath spread around you."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words, the illustrious Kunti was deeply grieved, and with her children, O bull of Bharata's race, stepped into the boat and went over the Ganges. Then leaving the boat according to the advice of Vidura, the Pandavas took with them the wealth that had been given to them (while at Varanavata) by their enemies and safely entered the deep woods. In the house of lac, however, that had been prepared for the destruction of the Pandavas, an innocent Nishada woman who had come there for some purpose, was, with her children burnt to death. And that worst of Mlechchhas, the wretched Purochana (who was the architect employed in building the house of lac) was also burnt in the conflagration. And thus were the sons of Dhirtarashtra with their counsellors deceived in their expectations. And thus also were the illustrious Pandavas, by the advice of Vidura, saved with their mother. But the people (of Varanavata) knew not of their safety. And the citizens of Varanavata, seeing the house of lac consumed (and believing the Pandavas to have been burnt to death) became exceedingly sorry. And they sent messengers unto king Dhritarashtra to represent everything that had happened. And they said to the monarch, "Thy great end hath been achieved! Thou hast at last burnt the Pandavas to death! Thy desire fulfilled, enjoy with thy children. O king of the Kurus, the kingdom." Hearing this, Dhritarashtra with his children, made a show of grief, and along with his relatives, including Kshattri (Vidura) and Bhishma the foremost of the Kurus, performed the last honours of the Pandavas.' "Janamejaya said, 'O best of Brahmanas, I desire to hear in full this history of the burning of the house of lac and the escape of the Pandavas there from. That was a cruel act of theirs (the Kurus), acting under the counsels of the wicked (Kanika). Recite the history to me of all that happened. I am burning with curiosity to hear it.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O chastiser of all foes, listen to me, O monarch, as I recite the (history of the) burning of the house of lac and the escape of the Pandavas. The wicked Duryodhana, beholding Bhimasena surpass (everybody) in strength and Arjuna highly accomplished in arms became pensive and sad. Then Karna, the offspring of the Sun, and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, endeavoured by various means to compass the death of the Pandavas. The Pandavas too counteracted all those contrivances one after another, and in obedience to the counsels of Vidura, never spoke of them afterwards. Then the citizens, beholding the sons of Pandu possessed of accomplishments, began, O Bharata, to speak of them in all places of public resort. And assembled in courtyards and other places of gathering, they talked of the eldest son of Pandu (Yudhishthira) as possessed of the qualifications for ruling the kingdom. And they said, "Dhritarashtra, though possessed of the eye of knowledge, having been (born) blind, had not obtained the kingdom before. How can he (therefore) become king now? Then Bhishma, the son of Santanu, of rigid vows and devoted to truth, having formerly relinquished the sovereignty would never accept it now. We shall, therefore, now install (on the throne) with proper ceremonies the eldest of the Pandavas endued with youth, accomplished in battle, versed in the Vedas, and truthful and kind. Worshipping Bhishma, the son of Santanu and Dhritarashtra conversant with the rules of morality, he will certainly maintain the former and the latter with his children in every kind of enjoyment." "'The wretched Duryodhana, hearing these words of the parting partisans of Yudhishthira, became very much distressed. Deeply afflicted, the wicked prince could not put up with those speeches. Inflamed with jealousy, he went unto Dhritarashtra, and finding him alone he saluted him with reverence and distressed at (the sight of) the partiality of the citizens for Yudhishthira, he addressed the monarch and said, "O father, I have heard the parting citizens utter words of ill omen. Passing thee by, and Bhishma too, they desire the son of Pandu to be their king. Bhishma will sanction this, for he will not rule the kingdom. It seems, therefore, that the citizens are endeavouring to inflict a great injury on us. Pandu obtained of old the ancestral kingdom by virtue of his own accomplishments, but thou, from blindness, didst not obtain the kingdom, though fully qualified to have it. If Pandu's son now obtaineth the kingdom as his inheritance from Pandu, his son will obtain it after him and that son's son also, and so on will it descend in Pandu's line. In that case, O king of the world, ourselves with our children, excluded from the royal line, shall certainly be disregarded by all men. Therefore, O monarch, adopt such counsels that we may not suffer perpetual distress, becoming dependent on others for our food. O king, if thou hadst obtained the sovereignty before, we would certainly have succeeded to it, however much the people might be unfavourable to us."'" SECTION CXLIV (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'King Dhritarashtra whose knowledge only was his eyes, on hearing these words of his son and recollecting everything that Kanika had said unto him, became afflicted with sorrow, and his mind also thereupon began to waver. Then Duryodhana and Karna, and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, and Duhsasana as their fourth, held a consultation together. Prince Duryodhana said unto Dhritarashtra, "Send, O father, by some clever contrivance, the Pandavas to the town of Varanavata. We shall then have no fear of them." Dhritarashtra, on hearing these words uttered by his son, reflected for a moment and replied unto Duryodhana, saying, "Pandu, ever devoted to virtue, always behaved dutifully towards all his relatives but particularly towards me. He cared very little for the enjoyments of the world, but devotedly gave everything unto me, even the kingdom. His son is as much devoted to virtue as he, and is possessed of every accomplishment. Of world-wide fame, he is again the favourite of the people. He is possessed of allies; how can we by force exile him from his ancestral kingdom? The counsellors and soldiers (of the state) and their sons and grandsons have all been cherished and maintained by Pandu. Thus benefited of old by Pandu, shall not, O child, the citizens slay us with all our friends and relatives now on account of Yudhishthira?" "'Duryodhana replied, "What thou sayest, O father, is perfectly true. But in view of the evil that is looming on the future as regards thyself, if we conciliate the people with wealth and honours, they would assuredly side with us for these proofs of our power. The treasury and the ministers of state, O king, are at this moment under our control. Therefore, it behoveth thee now to banish, by some gentle means, the Pandavas to the town of Varanavata; O king, when the sovereignty shall have been vested in me, then, O Bharata, may Kunti with her children come back from that place." "'Dhritarashtra replied, "This, O Duryodhana, is the very thought existing in my mind. But from its sinfulness I have never given expression to it. Neither Bhishma, nor Drona, nor Kshattri, nor Gautama (Kripa) will ever sanction the exile of the Pandavas. In their eyes, O dear son, amongst the Kurus ourselves and the Pandavas are equal. Those wise and virtuous persons will make no difference between us. If therefore, we behave so towards the Pandavas, shall we not, O son, deserve death at the hands of the Kurus, of these illustrious personages, and of the whole world?" "'Duryodhana answered, "Bhishma hath no excess of affection for either side, and will, therefore, be neutral (in case of dispute). The son of Drona (Aswatthaman) is on my side. There is no doubt that where the son is, there the father will be. Kripa, the son of Saradwat, must be on the side on which Drona and Aswatthaman are. He will never abandon Drona and his sister's son (Aswatthaman). Kshattri (Vidura) is dependent on us for his means of life, though he is secretly with the foe. If he sides with the Pandavas, he alone can do us no injury, Therefore, exile thou the Pandavas to Varanavata without any fear. And take such steps that they may go thither this very day. By this act, O father, extinguish the grief that consumeth me like a blazing fire, that robbeth me of sleep, and that pierces my heart even like a terrible dart."'" SECTION CXLV (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then prince Duryodhana, along with his brothers began to gradually win over the people to his side by grants of wealth and honours. Meanwhile, some clever councillors, instructed by Dhritarashtra, one day began to describe (in court) the town of Varanavata as a charming place. And they said, "The festival of Pasupati (Siva) hath commenced in the town of Varanavata. The concourse of people is great and the procession is the most delightful of all ever witnessed on earth. Decked with every ornament, it charmed the hearts of all spectators." Thus did those councillors, instructed by Dhritarashtra, speak of Varanavata, and whilst they were so speaking, the Pandavas, O king, felt the desire of going to that delightful town. And when the king (Dhritarashtra) ascertained that the curiosity of the Pandavas had been awakened, the son of Ambika addressed them, saying, "These men of mine often speak of Varanavata as the most delightful town in the world. If therefore, ye children, ye desire to witness that festival, go to Varanavata with your followers and friends and enjoy yourselves there like the celestials. And give ye away pearls and gems unto the Brahmanas and the musicians (that may be assembled there). And sporting there for some time as ye please like the resplendent celestials and enjoying as much pleasure as ye like, return ye to Hastinapura again."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Yudhishthira, fully understanding the motives of Dhritarashtra and considering that he himself was weak and friendless, replied unto the king, saying, "So be it." Then addressing Bhishma, the son of Santanu, the wise Vidura, Drona, Valhika, the Kaurava, Somadatta, Kripa, Aswatthaman, Bhurisravas, and the other councillors, and Brahmanas and ascetics, and the priests and the citizens, and the illustrious Gandhari, he said slowly and humbly, "With our friends and followers we go to the delightful and populous town of Varanavata at the command of Dhritarashtra. Cheerfully give us your benedictions so that acquiring prosperity, therewith we may not be touched by sin." Thus addressed by the eldest of Pandu's sons, the Kaurava chiefs all cheerfully pronounced blessings on them, saying, "Ye sons of Pandu, let all the elements bless you along your way and let not the slightest evil befall you." "'The Pandavas, having performed propitiatory rites for obtaining (their share of) the kingdom, and finishing their preparations, set out for Varanavata.'" SECTION CXLVI (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'The wicked Duryodhana became very pleased when the king, O Bharata, had said so unto the Pandavas. And, O bull of Bharata's race, Duryodhana, then, summoning his counsellor Purochana in private, took hold of his right hand and said, "O Purochana, this world, so full of wealth, is mine. But it is thine equally with me. It behoveth thee, therefore, to protect it. I have no more trustworthy counsellor than thee with whom to consult. Therefore, O sire, keep my counsel and exterminate my foes by a clever device. O, do as I bid thee. The Pandavas have, by Dhritarashtra, been sent to Varanavata, where they will, at Dhritarashtra's command, enjoy themselves during the festivities. Do that by which thou mayest this very day reach Varanavata in a car drawn by swift mules. Repairing thither, cause thou to be erected a quadrangular palace in the neighbourhood of the arsenal, rich in the materials and furniture, and guard thou the mansion well (with prying eyes). And use thou (in erecting that house) hemp and resin and all other inflammable materials that are procurable. And mixing a little earth with clarified butter and oil and fat and a large quantity of lac, make thou a plaster for lining the walls, and scatter thou all around that house hemp and oil and clarified butter and lac and wood in such a way that the Pandavas, or any others, may not, even with scrutiny behold them there or conclude the house to be an inflammable one. And having erected such mansion, cause thou the Pandavas, after worshipping them with great reverence, to dwell in it with Kunti and all their friends. And place thou there seats and conveyances and beds, all of the best workmanship, for the Pandavas, so that Dhritarashtra may have no reason to complain. Thou must also so manage it all that none of Varanavata may know anything till the end we have in view is accomplished. And assuring thyself that the Pandavas are sleeping within in confidence and without fear, thou must then set fire to that mansion beginning at the outer door. The Pandavas thereupon must be burnt to death, but the people will say that they have been burnt in (an accidental) conflagration of their house." "'Saying, "So be it" unto the Kuru prince, Purochana repaired to Varanavata in a car drawn by fleet mules. And going thither, O king, without loss of time, obedient to the instructions of Duryodhana, did everything that the prince had bid him do.'" SECTION CXLVII (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Meanwhile the Pandavas got into their cars, yoking thereto some fine horses endued with the speed of wind. While they were on the point of entering their cars, they touched, in great sorrow, the feet of Bhishma, of king Dhritarashtra, of the illustrious Drona, of Kripa, of Vidura and of the other elders of the Kuru race. Then saluting with reverence all the older men, and embracing their equals, receiving the farewell of even the children, and taking leave of all the venerable ladies in their household, and walking round them respectfully, and bidding farewell unto all the citizens, the Pandavas, ever mindful of their vows, set out for Varanavata. And Vidura of great wisdom and the other bulls among the Kurus and the citizens also, from great affliction, followed those tigers among men to some distance. And some amongst the citizens and the country people, who followed the Pandavas, afflicted beyond measure at beholding the sons of Pandu in such distress, began to say aloud, "King Dhritarashtra of wicked soul seeth no things with the same eye. The Kuru monarch casteth not his eye on virtue. Neither the sinless Yudhishthira, nor Bhima the foremost of mighty men, nor Dhananjaya the (youngest) son of Kunti, will ever be guilty (of the sin of waging a rebellious war). When these will remain quiet, how shall the illustrious son of Madri do anything? Having inherited the kingdom from their father, Dhritarashtra could not bear them. How is that Bhishma who suffers the exile of the Pandavas to that wretched place, sanctions this act of great injustice? Vichitravirya, the son of Santanu, and the royal sage Pandu of Kuru's race both cherished us of old with fatherly care. But now that Pandu that tiger among men, hath ascended to heaven, Dhritarashtra cannot bear with these princes his children. We who do not sanction this exile shall all go, leaving this excellent town and our own homes, where Yudhishthira will go." "'Unto those distressed citizens talking in this way, the virtuous Yudhishthira, himself afflicted with sorrow, reflecting for a few moments said, "The king is our father, worthy of regard, our spiritual guide, and our superior. To carry out with unsuspicious hearts whatever he biddeth, is indeed, our duty. Ye are our friends. Walking round us and making us happy by your blessings, return ye to your abodes. When the time cometh for anything to be done for us by you, then, indeed, accomplish all that is agreeable and beneficial to us." Thus addressed, the citizens walked round the Pandavas and blessed them with their blessings and returned to their respective abodes. "'And after the citizens had ceased following the Pandavas, Vidura, conversant with all the dictates of morality, desirous of awakening the eldest of the Pandavas (to a sense of his dangers), addressed him in these words. The learned Vidura, conversant with the jargon (of the Mlechchhas), addressed the learned Yudhishthira who also was conversant with the same jargon, in the words of the Mlechchha tongue, so as to be unintelligible to all except Yudhishthira. He said, "He that knoweth the schemes his foes contrive in accordance with the dictates of political science, should, knowing them, act in such a way as to avoid all danger. He that knoweth that there are sharp weapons capable of cutting the body though not made of steel, and understandeth also the means of warding them off, can never be injured by foes. He liveth who protecteth himself by the knowledge that neither the consumer of straw and wood nor the drier of the dew burneth the inmates of a hole in the deep woods. The blind man seeth not his way: the blind man hath no knowledge of direction. He that hath no firmness never acquireth prosperity. Remembering this, be upon your guard. The man who taketh a weapon not made of steel (i.e., an inflammable abode) given him by his foes, can escape from fire by making his abode like unto that of a jackal (having many outlets). By wandering a man may acquire the knowledge of ways, and by the stars he can ascertain the direction, and he that keepeth his five (senses) under control can never be oppressed by his enemies." "'Thus addressed, Pandu's son, Yudhishthira the just replied unto Vidura, that foremost of all learned men, saying, "I have understood thee." Then Vidura, having instructed the Pandavas and followed them (thus far), walked around them and bidding them farewell returned to his own abode. When the citizens and Bhishma and Vidura had all ceased following, Kunti approached Yudhishthira and said, "The words that Kshattri said unto thee in the midst of many people so indistinctly as if he did not say anything, and thy reply also to him in similar words and voice, we have not understood. If it is not improper for us to know them I should then like to hear everything that had passed between him and thee." "'Yudhishthira replied, "The virtuous Vidura said unto me that we should know that the mansion (for our accommodation at Varanavata) hath been built of inflammable materials. He said unto me, 'The path of escape too shall not be unknown to thee,'--and further,--'Those that can control their senses can acquire the sovereignty of the whole world.'--The reply that I gave unto Vidura was, 'I have understood thee.'"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The Pandavas set out on the eighth day of the month of Phalguna when the star Rohini was in the ascendant, and arriving at they beheld the town and the people.'" SECTION CXLVIII (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then all the citizens (of Varanavata) on hearing that the son of Pandu had come, were filled with joy at the tidings, speedily came out of Varanavata, in vehicles of various kinds numbering by thousands, taking with them every auspicious article as directed by the Sastras, for receiving those foremost of men. And the people of Varanavata, approaching the sons of Kunti blessed them by uttering the Jaya and stood surrounding them. That tiger among men, viz., the virtuous Yudhishthira thus surrounded by them looked resplendent like him having the thunderbolt in his hands (viz., Indra) in the midst of the celestials. And those sinless ones, welcomed by the citizens and welcoming the citizens in return, then entered the populous town of Varanavata decked with every ornament. Entering the town those heroes first went, O monarch, to the abodes of Brahmanas engaged in their proper duties. Those foremost of men then went to the abodes of the officials of the town, and then of the Sutas and the Vaisyas and then to those of even the Sudras. O bull of Bharata's race, thus adored by the citizens, the Pandavas at last went with Purochana going before them, to the palace that had been built for them. Purochana then began to place before them food and drink and beds and carpets, all of the first and most agreeable order. The Pandavas attired in costly robes, continued to live there, adored by Purochana and the people having their homes in Varanavata. "'After the Pandavas had thus lived for ten nights, Purochana spoke to them of the mansion (he had built) called "The Blessed Home," but in reality the cursed house. Then those tigers among men, attired in costly dress, entered that mansion at the instance of Purochana like Guhyakas entering the palace (of Siva) on the Kailasa mount. The foremost of all virtuous men, Yudhishthira, inspecting the house, said unto Bhima that it was really built of inflammable materials. Smelling the scent of fat mixed with clarified butter and preparations of lac, he said unto Bhima, "O chastiser of foes, this house is truly built of inflammable materials! Indeed, it is apparent that such is the case! The enemy, it is evident, by the aid of trusted artists well-skilled in the construction of houses, have finely built this mansion, after procuring hemp, resin, heath, straw, and bamboos, all soaked in clarified butter. This wicked wretch, Purochana, acting under the instruction of Duryodhana, stayeth here with the object of burning me to death when he seeth me trustful. But, O son of Pritha, Vidura of great intelligence, knew of this danger, and, therefore, hath warned me of it beforehand. Knowing it all, that youngest uncle of ours, ever wishing our good from affection hath told us that this house, so full of danger, hath been constructed by the wretches under Duryodhana acting in secrecy." "'Hearing this, Bhima replied, "If, sir, you know this house to be so inflammable, it would then be well for us to return thither where we had taken up our quarters first." Yudhishthira replied, "It seems to me that we should rather continue to live here in seeming unsuspiciousness but all the while with caution and our senses wide awake and seeking for some certain means of escape. If Purochana findeth from our countenances that we have fathomed designs, acting with haste he may suddenly burn us to death. Indeed, Purochana careth little for obloquy or sin. The wretch stayeth here acting under the instruction of Duryodhana. If we are burnt to death, will our grandfather Bhishma be angry? Why will he, by showing his wrath, make the Kauravas angry with him? Or, perhaps, our grandfather Bhishma and the other bull of Kuru's race, regarding indignation at such a sinful act to be virtuous, may become wrathful. If however, from fear of being burnt, we fly from here, Duryodhana, ambitious of sovereignty will certainly compass our death by means of spies. While we have no rank and power, Duryodhana hath both; while we have no friends and allies, Duryodhana hath both; while we are without wealth, Duryodhana hath at his command a full treasury. Will he not, therefore, certainly destroy us by adopting adequate means? Let us, therefore, by deceiving this wretch (Purochana) and that other wretch Duryodhana, pass our days, disguising ourselves at times. Let us also lead a hunting life, wandering over the earth. We shall then, if we have to escape our enemies, be familiar with all paths. We shall also, this very day, cause a subterranean passage to be dug in our chamber in great secrecy. If we act in this way, concealing what we do from all, fire shall never be able to consume us. We shall live here, actively doing everything for our safety but with such privacy that neither Purochana nor any of the citizens of Varanavata may know what we are after."'" SECTION CXLIX (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'A friend of Vidura's, well-skilled in mining, coming unto the Pandavas, addressed them in secret, saying, "I have been sent by Vidura and am a skilful miner. I am to serve the Pandavas. Tell me what I am to do for ye. From the trust he reposeth in me Vidura hath said unto me, 'Go thou unto the Pandavas and accomplish thou their good.' What shall I do for you? Purochana will set fire to the door of thy house on the fourteenth night of this dark fortnight. To burn to death those tigers among men, the Pandavas, with their mother, is the design of that wicked wretch, the son of Dhritarashtra. O son of Pandu, Vidura also told thee something in the Mlechchha tongue to which thou also didst reply in same language. I state these particulars as my credentials." Hearing these words, Yudhishthira, the truthful son of Kunti replied, "O amiable one, I now know thee as a dear and trusted friend of Vidura, true and ever devoted to him. There is nothing that the learned Vidura doth not know. As his, so ours art thou. Make no difference between him and us. We are as much thine as his. O, protect us as the learned Vidura ever protecteth us. I know that this house, so inflammable, hath been contrived for me by Purochana at the command of Dhritarashtra's son. That wicked wretch commanding wealth and allies pursueth us without intermission. O, save us with a little exertion from the impending conflagration. If we are burnt to death here, Duryodhana's most cherished desire will be satisfied. Here is that wretch's well-furnished arsenal. This large mansion hath been built abutting the high ramparts of the arsenal without any outlet. But this unholy contrivance of Duryodhana was known to Vidura from the first, and he it was who enlightened us beforehand. The danger of which Kshattri had foreknowledge is now at our door. Save us from it without Purochana's knowledge thereof." On hearing these words, the miner said, "So be it," and carefully beginning his work of excavation, made a large subterranean passage. And the mouth of that passage was in the centre of that house, and it was on a level with the floor and closed up with planks. The mouth was so covered from fear of Purochana, that wicked wretch who kept a constant watch at the door of the house. The Pandavas used to sleep within their chambers with arms ready for use, while, during the day, they went a- hunting from forest to forest. Thus, O king, they lived (in that mansion) very guardedly, deceiving Purochana by a show of trustfulness and contentment while in reality they were trustless and discontented. Nor did the citizens of Varanavata know anything about these plans of the Pandavas. In fact, none else knew of them except Vidura's friend, that good miner.'" SECTION CL (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Seeing the Pandavas living there cheerfully and without suspicion for a full year, Purochana became exceedingly glad. And beholding Purochana so very glad, Yudhishthira, the virtuous son of Kunti, addressing Bhima and Arjuna and the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva) said, "The cruel-hearted wretch hath been well-deceived. I think the time is come for our escape. Setting fire to the arsenal and burning Purochana to death and letting his body lie here, let us, six persons, fly hence unobserved by all!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then on the occasion of an almsgiving, O king, Kunti fed on a certain night a large number of Brahmanas. There came also a number of ladies who while eating and drinking, enjoyed there as they pleased, and with Kunti's leave returned to their respective homes. Desirous of obtaining food, there came, as though impelled by fate, to that feast, in course of her wanderings, a Nishada woman, the mother of five children, accompanied by all her sons. O king, she, and her children, intoxicated with the wine they drank, became incapable. Deprived of consciousness and more dead than alive, she with all her sons lay down in that mansion to sleep. Then when all the inmates of the house lay down to sleep, there began to blow a violent wind in the night. Bhima then set fire to the house just where Purochana was sleeping. Then the son of Pandu set fire to the door of that house of lac. Then he set fire to the mansion in several parts all around. Then when the sons of Pandu were satisfied that the house had caught fire in several parts those chastisers of foes with their mother, entered the subterranean passage without losing any time. Then the heat and the roar of the fire became intense and awakened the townspeople. Beholding the house in flames, the citizens with sorrowful faces began to say, "The wretch (Purochana) of wicked soul had under the instruction of Duryodhana built his house for the destruction of his employer's relatives. He indeed hath set fire to it. O, fie on Dhritarashtra's heart which is so partial. He hath burnt to death, as if he were their foe, the sinless heirs of Pandu! O, the sinful and wicked- souled (Purochana) who hath burnt those best of men, the innocent and unsuspicious princes, hath himself been burnt to death as fate would have it."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The citizens of Varanavata thus bewailed (the fate of the Pandavas), and waited there for the whole night surrounding that house. The Pandavas, however, accompanied by their mother coming out of the subterranean passage, fled in haste unnoticed. But those chastisers of foes, for sleepiness and fear, could not with their mother proceed in haste. But, O monarch, Bhimasena, endued with terrible prowess and swiftness of motion took upon his body all his brothers and mother and began to push through the darkness. Placing his mother on his shoulder, the twins on his sides, and Yudhishthira and Arjuna on both his arms, Vrikodara of great energy and strength and endued with the speed of the wind, commenced his march, breaking the trees with his breast and pressing deep the earth with his stamp.'" SECTION CLI (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'About this time, the learned Vidura had sent into those woods a man of pure character and much trusted by him. This person going to where he had been directed, saw the Pandavas with their mother in the forest employed in a certain place in measuring the depth of a river. The design that the wicked Duryodhana had formed had been, through his spies, known to Vidura of great intelligence, and, therefore, he had sent that prudent person unto the Pandavas. Sent by Vidura unto them, he showed the Pandavas on the sacred banks of the Ganga a boat with engines and flags, constructed by trusted artificers and capable of withstanding wind and wave and endued with the speed of the tempest or of thought. He then addressed the Pandavas in these words to show that he had really been sent by Vidura, "O Yudhishthira," he said, "listen to these words the learned Vidura had said (unto thee) as a proof of the fact that I come from him. Neither the consumer of straw and the wood nor the drier of dew ever burneth the inmates of a hole in the forest. He escapeth from death who protecteth himself knowing this, etc. By these credentials know me to be the person who has been truly sent by Vidura and to be also his trusted agent. Vidura, conversant with everything, hath again said, 'O son of Kunti, thou shalt surely defeat in battle Karna, and Duryodhana with his brothers, and Sakuni.' This boat is ready on the waters, and it will glide pleasantly thereon, and shall certainly bear you all from these regions!" "'Then beholding those foremost of men with their mother pensive and sad he caused them to go into the boat that was on the Ganga, and accompanied them himself. Addressing them again, he said, "Vidura having smelt your heads and embraced you (mentally), hath said again that in commencing your auspicious journey and going alone you should never be careless." "'Saying these words unto those heroic princes, the person sent by Vidura took those bulls among men over to the other side of the Ganga in his boat. And having taken them over the water and seen them all safe on the opposite bank, he uttered the word "Jaya" (victory) to their success and then left them and returned to the place whence he had come. "'The illustrious Pandavas also sending through that person some message to Vidura, began, after having crossed the Ganga, to proceed with haste and in great secrecy.'" SECTION CLII (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then, when the night had passed away, a large concourse of the townspeople came there in haste to see the sons of Pandu. After extinguishing the fire, they saw that the house just burnt down had been built of lac in materials and that (Duryodhana's) counsellor Purochana had been burnt to death. And the people began to bewail aloud saying, "Indeed, this had been contrived by the sinful Duryodhana for the destruction of the Pandavas. There is little doubt that Duryodhana hath, with Dhritarashtra's knowledge, burnt to death the heirs of Pandu, else the prince would have been prevented by his father. There is little doubt that even Bhishma, the son of Santanu, and Drona and Vidura and Kripa and other Kauravas have not, any of them, followed the dictates of duty. Let us now send to Dhritarashtra to say, 'Thy great desire hath been achieved! Thou hast burnt to death the Pandavas!'" "'They then began to extinguish the members to obtain some trace of the Pandavas, and they saw the innocent Nishada woman with her five sons burnt to death. Then the miner sent by Vidura, while removing the ashes, covered the hole he had dug with those ashes in such a way that it remained unnoticed by all who had gone there. "'The citizens then sent to Dhritarashtra to inform him that the Pandavas along with (Duryodhana's) counsellor Purochana had been burnt to death. King Dhritarashtra, on hearing the evil news of the death of the Pandavas, wept in great sorrow. And he said, "King Pandu, my brother of great fame, hath, indeed, died today when those heroic sons of his together with their mother have been burnt to death. Ye men, repair quickly to Varanavata and cause the funeral rites to be performed of those heroes and of the daughter of Kuntiraj! Let also the bones of the deceased be sanctified with the usual rites, and let all the beneficial and great acts (usual on such occasions) be performed. Let the friends and relatives of those that have been burnt to death repair thither. Let also all other beneficial acts that ought, under the circumstances, to be performed by us for the Pandavas and Kunti be accomplished by wealth." "'Having said this, Dhritarashtra, the son of Ambika, surrounded by his relatives, offered oblations of water to the sons of Pandu. And all of them, afflicted with excessive sorrow, bewailed aloud, exclaiming, "O Yudhishthira! Oh prince of the Kuru race!"--While others cried aloud, "Oh, Bhima!--O Phalguna!"--while some again,--"Oh, the twins!--Oh, Kunti!"-- Thus did they sorrow for the Pandavas and offer oblations of water unto them. The citizens also wept for the Pandavas but Vidura did not weep much, because he knew the truth. "'Meanwhile the Pandavas endued with great strength with their mother forming a company of six going out of the town of Varanavata arrived at the banks of the Ganga. They then speedily reached the opposite bank aided by the strength of the boatmen's arms, the rapidity of the river's current, and a favourable wind. Leaving the boat, they proceeded in the southern direction finding their way in the dark by the light of the stars. After much suffering they at last reached, O king, a dense forest. They were then tired and thirsty; sleep was closing their eyes every moment. Then Yudhishthira, addressing Bhima endued with great energy, said, "What can be more painful than this? We are now in the deep woods. We know not which side is which, nor can we proceed much further. We do not know whether that wretch Purochana hath or hath not been burnt to death. How shall we escape from these dangers unseen by others? O Bharata, taking us on thyself, proceed thou as before. Thou alone amongst us art strong and swift as the wind." "'Thus addressed by Yudhishthira the just, the mighty Bhimasena, taking up on his body Kunti and his brothers, began to proceed with great celerity.'" SECTION CLIII (Jatugriha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'As the mighty Bhima proceeded, the whole forest with its trees and their branches seemed to tremble, in consequence of their clash with his breast. The motion of his thighs raised a wind like unto that which blows during the months of Jyaishtha and Ashadha (May and June). And the mighty Bhima proceeded, making a path for himself, but treading down the trees and creepers before him. In fact, he broke (by the pressure of his body) the large trees and plants, with their flowers and fruits, standing on his way. Even so passeth through the woods breaking down mighty trees, the leader of a herd of elephants, of the age of sixty years, angry and endued with excess of energy, during the season of rut when the liquid juice trickle down the three parts of his body. Indeed, so great was the force with which Bhima endued with the speed of Garuda or of Marut (the god of wind), proceeded that the Pandavas seemed to faint in consequence. Frequently swimming across streams difficult of being crossed, the Pandavas disguised themselves on their way from fear of the sons of Dhritarashtra. And Bhima carried on his shoulder his illustrious mother of delicate sensibilities along the uneven banks of rivers. Towards the evening, O bull of Bharata's race, Bhima (bearing his brothers and mother on his back) reached a terrible forest where fruits and roots and water were scarce and which resounded with the terrible cries of birds and beasts. The twilight deepened the cries of birds and beasts became fiercer, darkness shrouded everything from the view and untimely winds began to blow that broke and laid low many a tree large and small and many creepers with dry leaves and fruits. The Kaurava princes, afflicted with fatigue and thirst, and heavy with sleep, were unable to proceed further. They then all sat down in that forest without food and drink. Then Kunti, smitten with thirst, said unto her sons, "I am the mother of the five Pandavas and am now in their midst. Yet I am burning with thirst!" Kunti repeatedly said this unto her sons. Hearing these words, Bhima's heart, from affection for his mother, was warmed by compassion and he resolved to go (along as before). Then Bhima, proceeding through that terrible and extensive forest without a living soul, saw a beautiful banian tree with widespreading branches. Setting down there his brothers and mother, O bull of Bharata's race, he said unto them, "Rest you here, while I go in quest of water. I hear the sweet cries of aquatic fowls. I think there must be a large pool here." Commanded, O Bharata, by his elder brother who said unto him, "Go", Bhima proceeded in the direction whence the cries of those aquatic fowls were coming. And, O bull of Bharata's race, he soon came upon a lake and bathed and slaked his thirst. And affectionate unto his brothers, he brought for them, O Bharata, water by soaking his upper garments. Hastily retracing his way over those four miles he came unto where his mother was and beholding her he was afflicted with sorrow and began to sigh like a snake. Distressed with grief at seeing his mother and brothers asleep on the bare ground, Vrikodara began to weep, "Oh, wretch that I am, who behold my brothers asleep on the bare ground, what can befall me more painful than this? Alas, they who formerly at Varanavata could not sleep on the softest and costliest beds are now asleep on the bare ground! Oh, what more painful sight shall I ever behold than that of Kunti--the sister of Vasudeva, that grinder of hostile hosts--the daughter of Kuntiraja,--herself decked with every auspicious mark, the daughter-in- law of Vichitravirya,--the wife of the illustrious Pandu,--the mother of us (five brothers),--resplendent as the filaments of the lotus and delicate and tender and fit to sleep on the costliest bed--thus asleep, as she should never be, on the bare ground! Oh, she who hath brought forth these sons by Dharma and Indra and Maruta--she who hath ever slept within palaces--now sleepeth, fatigued, on the bare ground! What more painful sight shall ever be beheld by me than that of these tigers among men (my brothers) asleep on the ground! Oh, the virtuous Yudhishthira, who deserveth the sovereignty of the three worlds, sleepeth, fatigued, like an ordinary man, on the bare ground! This Arjuna of the darkish hue of blue clouds, and unequalled amongst men sleepeth on the ground like an ordinary person! Oh, what can be more painful than this? Oh the twins, who in beauty are like the twin Aswins amongst the celestials, are asleep like ordinary mortals on the bare ground! He who hath no jealous evil-minded relatives, liveth in happiness in this world like a single tree in a village. The tree that standeth single in a village with its leaves and fruits, from absence of other of the same species, becometh sacred and is worshipped and venerated by all. They again that have many relatives who, however, are all heroic and virtuous, live happily in the world without sorrow of any kind. Themselves powerful and growing in prosperity and always gladdening their friends and relatives, they live, depending on each other, like tall trees growing in the same forest. We, however, have been forced in exile by the wicked Dhritarashtra and his sons having escaped with difficulty, from sheer good fortune, a fiery death. Having escaped from that fire, we are now resting in the shade of this tree. Having already suffered so much, where now are we to go? Ye sons of Dhritarashtra of little foresight, ye wicked fellows, enjoy your temporary success. The gods are certainly auspicious to you. But ye wicked wretches, ye are alive yet, only because Yudhishthira doth not command me to take your lives. Else this very day, filled with wrath, I would send thee, (O Duryodhana), to the of Yama (Pluto) with thy children and friends and brothers, and Karna, and (Sakuni) the son of Suvala! But what can I do, for, ye sinful wretches, the virtuous king Yudhishthira, the eldest of the Pandavas, is not yet angry with you?" "'Having said this, Bhima of mighty arms, fired with wrath, began to squeeze his palms, sighing deeply in affliction. Excited again with wrath like an extinguished fire blazing up all on a sudden, Vrikodara once more beheld his brothers sleeping on the ground like ordinary persons sleeping in trustfulness. And Bhima said unto himself, "I think there is some town not far off from this forest. These all are asleep, so I will sit awake. And this will slake their thirst after they rise refreshed from sleep." Saying this, Bhima sat there awake, keeping watch over his sleeping mother and brothers.'" SECTION CLIV (Hidimva-vadha Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'Not far from the place where the Pandavas were asleep, a Rakshasa by name Hidimva dwelt on the Sala tree. Possessed of great energy and prowess, he was a cruel cannibal of visage that was grim in consequence of his sharp and long teeth. He was now hungry and longing for human flesh. Of long shanks and a large belly, his locks and beard were both red in hue. His shoulders were broad like the neck of a tree; his ears were like unto arrows, and his features were frightful. Of red eyes and grim visage, the monster beheld, while casting his glances around, the sons of Pandu sleeping in those woods. He was then hungry and longing for human flesh. Shaking his dry and grizzly locks and scratching them with his fingers pointed upwards, the large-mouthed cannibal repeatedly looked at the sleeping sons of Pandu yawning wistfully at times. Of huge body and great strength, of complexion like the colour of a mass of clouds, of teeth long and sharp-pointed and face emitting a sort of lustre, he was ever pleased with human flesh. And scenting the odour of man, he addressed his sister, saying, "O sister, it is after a long time that such agreeable food hath approached me! My mouth waters at the anticipated relish of such food. My eight teeth, so sharp-pointed and incapable of being resisted by any substance, I shall, today, after a long time, put into the most delicious flesh. Attacking the human throat and even opening the veins, I shall (today) drink a plentiful quantity of human blood, hot and fresh and frothy. Go and ascertain who these are, lying asleep in these woods. The strong scent of man pleaseth my nostrils. Slaughtering all these men, bring them unto me. They sleep within my territory. Thou needest have no fear from them. Do my bidding soon, for we shall then together eat their flesh, tearing off their bodies at pleasure. And after feasting to our fill on human flesh we shall then dance together to various measures!" "'Thus addressed by Hidimva in those woods, Hidimva, the female cannibal, at the command of her brother, went, O bull of Bharata's race, to the spot where the Pandavas were. And on going there, she beheld the Pandavas asleep with their mother and the invincible Bhimasena sitting awake. And beholding Bhimasena unrivalled on earth for beauty and like unto a vigorous Sala tree, the Rakshasa woman immediately fell in love with him, and she said to herself, "This person of hue like heated gold and of mighty arms, of broad shoulders as the lion, and so resplendent, of neck marked with three lines like a conch-shell and eyes like lotus-petals, is worthy of being my husband. I shall not obey the cruel mandate of my brother. A woman's love for her husband is stronger than her affection for her brother. If I slay him, my brother's gratification as well as mine will only be momentary. But if I slay him not, I can enjoy with him for ever and ever." Thus saying, the Rakshasa woman, capable of assuming form at will, assumed an excellent human form and began to advance with slow steps towards Bhima of mighty arms. Decked with celestial ornaments she advanced with smiles on her lips and a modest gait, and addressing Bhima said, "O bull among men, whence hast thou come here and who art thou? Who, besides, are these persons of celestial beauty sleeping here? Who also, O sinless one, is this lady of transcendent beauty sleeping so trustfully in these woods as if she were lying in her own chamber? Dost thou not know that this forest is the abode of a Rakshasa. Truly do I say, here liveth the wicked Rakshasa called Hidimva. Ye beings of celestial beauty, I have been sent hither even by that Rakshasa--my brother--with the cruel intent of killing you for his food. But I tell thee truly that beholding thee resplendent as a celestial, I would have none else for my husband save thee! Thou who art acquainted with all duties, knowing this, do unto me what is proper. My heart as well as my body hath been pierced by (the shafts of) Kama (Cupid). O, as I am desirous of obtaining thee, make me thine. O thou of mighty arms, I will rescue thee from the Rakshasa who eateth human flesh. O sinless one, be thou my husband. We shall then live on the breasts of mountains inaccessible to ordinary mortals. I can range the air and I do so at pleasure. Thou mayest enjoy great felicity with me in those regions." "'Hearing these words of hers, Bhima replied, "O Rakshasa woman, who can, like a Muni having all his passions under control, abandon his sleeping mother and elder and younger brothers? What man like me would go to gratify his lust, leaving his sleeping mother and brothers as food for a Rakshasa?" "'The Rakshasa woman replied, "O, awaken all these, I shall do unto you all that is agreeable to thee! I shall certainly rescue you all from my cannibal brother." "'Bhima then said, "O Rakshasa woman, I will not, from fear of thy wicked brother, awaken my brothers and mother sleeping comfortably in the woods. O timid one, Rakshasas are never able to bear the prowess of my arms. And, O thou of handsome eyes, neither men, nor Gandharvas, nor Yakshas are able to bear my might. O amiable one, thou mayst stay or go as thou likest, or mayst even send thy cannibal brother, O thou of delicate shape. I care not."'" SECTION CLV (Hidimva-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hidimva, the chief of the Rakshasas, seeing that his sister returned not soon enough, alighted from the tree, proceeded quickly to the spot where the Pandavas were. Of red eyes and strong arms and the arms and the hair of his head standing erect, of large open mouth and body like unto a mass of dark clouds, teeth long and sharp-pointed, he was terrible to behold. And Hidimva, beholding her brother of frightful visage alight from the tree, became very much alarmed, and addressing Bhima said, "The wicked cannibal is coming hither in wrath. I entreat thee, do with thy brothers, as I bid thee. O thou of great courage, as I am endued with the powers of a Rakshasa, I am capable of going whithersoever I like. Mount ye on my hips, I will carry you all through the skies. And, O chastiser of foes, awaken these and thy mother sleeping in comfort. Taking them all on my body, I will convey you through the skies." "'Bhima then said, "O thou of fair hips, fear not anything. I am sure that as long as I am here, there is no Rakshasa capable of injuring any of these, O thou of slender waist. I will slay this (cannibal) before thy very eyes. This worst of Rakshasas, O timid one, is no worthy antagonist of mine, nor can all the Rakshasas together bear the strength of my arms. Behold these strong arms of mine, each like unto the trunk of an elephant. Behold also these thighs of mine like unto iron maces, and this broad and adamantine chest. O beautiful one, thou shall today behold my prowess like unto that of Indra. O thou of fair hips, hate me not, thinking that I am a man." "'Hidimva replied saying, "O tiger among men, O thou of the beauty of a celestial, I do not certainly hold thee in contempt. But I have seen the prowess that Rakshasas exert upon men."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then, O Bharata, the wrathful Rakshasa eating human flesh heard these words of Bhima who had been talking in that way. And Hidimva beheld his sister disguised in human form, her head decked with garlands of flowers and her face like the full moon and her eyebrows and nose and eyes and ringlets all of the handsomest description, and her nails and complexion of the most delicate hue, and herself wearing every kind of ornament and attired in fine transparent robes. The cannibal, beholding her in that charming human form, suspected that she was desirous of carnal intercourse and became indignant. And, O best of the Kurus, becoming angry with his sister, the Rakshasa dilated his eyes and addressing her said, "What senseless creature wishes to throw obstacles in my path now that I am so hungry? Hast thou become so senseless, O Hidimva, that thou fearest not my wrath? Fie on thee, thou unchaste woman! Thou art even now desirous of carnal intercourse and solicitous of doing me an injury. Thou art ready to sacrifice the good name and honour of all the Rakshasas, thy ancestors! Those with whose aid thou wouldst do me this great injury, I will, even now, slay along with thee." Addressing his sister thus, Hidimva, with eyes red with anger and teeth pressing against teeth, ran at her to kill her then and there. But beholding him rush at his sister, Bhima, that foremost of smiters, endued with great energy, rebuked him and said, "Stop--Stop!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'And Bhima, beholding the Rakshasa angry with his sister, smiled (in derision), and said, addressing him, "O Hidimva, what need is there for thee to awaken these persons sleeping so comfortably? O wicked cannibal, approach me first without loss of time. Smite me first,-- it behoveth thee not to kill a woman, especially when she hath been sinned against instead of sinning. This girl is scarcely responsible for her act in desiring intercourse with me. She hath, in this, been moved by the deity of desire that pervadeth every living form. Thou wicked wretch and the most infamous of Rakshasas, thy sister came here at thy command. Beholding my person, she desireth me. In that the timid girl doth no injury to thee. It is the deity of desire that hath offended. It behoveth thee not to injure her for this offence. O wicked wretch, thou shalt not slay a woman when I am here. Come with me, O cannibal, and fight with myself singly. Singly shall I send thee today to the abode of Yama (Pluto). O Rakshasa, let thy head today, pressed by my might, be pounded to pieces, as though pressed by the tread of a mighty elephant. When thou art slain by me on the field of battle, let herons and hawks and jackals tear in glee thy limbs today on the ground. In a moment I shall today make this forest destitute of Rakshasas,--this forest that had so long been ruled by thee, devourer of human beings! Thy sister, O Rakshasa, shall today behold thyself, huge though thou art like a mountain, like a huge elephant repeatedly dragged by a lion. O worst of Rakshasas, thyself slain by me, men ranging these woods will henceforth do so safely and without fear." "'Hearing these words, Hidimva said, "What need is there, O man, for this thy vaunt and this thy boast? Accomplish all this first, and then mayst thou vaunt indeed. Therefore, delay thou not. Thou knowest thyself to be strong and endued with prowess, so thou shalt rightly estimate thy strength today in thy encounter with me. Until that, I will not slay these (thy brothers). Let them sleep comfortably. But I will, as thou art a fool and the utterer of evil speeches, slay thee first. After drinking thy blood, I will slay these also, and then last of all, this (sister of mine) that hath done me an injury."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Saying this, the cannibal, extending his arms ran in wrath towards Bhimasena, that chastiser of foes. Then Bhima of terrible prowess quickly seized, as though in sport, with great force, the extended arms of the Rakshasa who had rushed at him. Then seizing the struggling Rakshasa with violence, Bhima dragged him from that spot full thirty-two cubits like a lion dragging a little animal. Then the Rakshasa, thus made to feel the weight of Bhima's strength, became very angry and clasping the Pandava, sent forth a terrible yell. The mighty Bhima then dragged with force the Rakshasa to a greater distance, lest his yells should awaken his brothers sleeping in comfort. Clasping and dragging each other with great force, both Hidimva and Bhimasena put forth their prowess. Fighting like two full-grown elephants mad with rage, they then began to break down the trees and tear the creepers that grew around. And at those sounds, those tigers among men (the sleeping Pandavas) woke up with their mother, and saw Hidimva sitting before them.'" SECTION CLVI (Hidimva-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Roused from sleep, those tigers among men, with their mother, beholding the extraordinary beauty of Hidimva, were filled with wonder. And Kunti, gazing at her with wonder at her beauty, addressed her sweetly and gave her every assurance. She asked, "O thou of the splendour of a daughter of the celestials, whose art thou and who art thou? O thou of the fairest complexion, on what business hast thou come hither and whence hast thou come? If thou art the deity of these woods or an Apsara, tell me all regarding thyself and also why thou stayest here?" Thereupon Hidimva replied, "This extensive forest that thou seest, of the hue of blue cloud, is the abode of a Rakshasa of the name of Hidimva. O handsome lady, know me as the sister of that chief of the Rakshasa. Revered dame, I had been sent by that brother of mine to kill thee with all thy children. But on arriving here at the command of that cruel brother of mine, I beheld thy mighty son. Then, O blessed lady, I was brought under the control of thy son by the deity of love who pervadeth the nature of every being, and I then (mentally) chose that mighty son of thine as my husband. I tried my best to convey you hence, but I could not (because of thy son's opposition). Then the cannibal, seeing my delay, came hither to kill all these thy children. But he hath been dragged hence with force by that mighty and intelligent son of thine--my husband. Behold now that couple-- man and Rakshasa--both endued with great strength and prowess, engaged in combat, grinding each other and filling the whole region with their shouts."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing those words of hers, Yudhishthira suddenly rose up and Arjuna also and Nakula and Sahadeva of great energy and they beheld Bhima and the Rakshasa already engaged in fight, eager to overcome each other and dragging each other with great force, like two lions endued with great might. The dust raised by their feet in consequence of that encounter looked like the smoke of a forest- conflagration. Covered with that dust their huge bodies resembled two tall cliffs enveloped in mist. Then Arjuna, beholding Bhima rather oppressed in the fight by the Rakshasa, slowly said with smiles on his lips, "Fear not, O Bhima of mighty arms! We (had been asleep and therefore) knew not that thou wast engaged with a terrible Rakshasa and tired in fight. Here do I stand to help thee, let me slay the Rakshasa, and let Nakula and Sahadeva protect our mother." Hearing him, Bhima said, "Look on this encounter, O brother, like a stranger. Fear not for the result. Having come within the reach of my arms, he shall not escape with life." Then Arjuna said, "What need, O Bhima, for keeping the Rakshasa alive so long? O oppressor of enemies, we are to go hence, and cannot stay here longer. The east is reddening, the morning twilight is about to set in. The Rakshasa become stronger by break of day, therefore, hasten, O Bhima! Play not (with thy victim), but slay the terrible Rakshasa soon. During the two twilights Rakshasas always put forth their powers of deception. Use all the strength of thy arms."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'At this speech of Arjuna, Bhima blazing up with anger, summoned the might that Vayu (his father) puts forth at the time of the universal dissolution. And filled with rage, he quickly raised high in the air the Rakshasa's body, blue as the clouds of heaven, and whirled it a hundred times. Then addressing the cannibal, Bhima said, "O Rakshasa, thy intelligence was given thee in vain, and in vain hast thou grown and thriven on unsanctified flesh. Thou deservest, therefore, an unholy death and I shall reduce thee today to nothing. I shall make this forest blessed today, like one without prickly plants. And, O Rakshasa, thou shalt no longer slay human beings for thy food." Arjuna at this juncture, said, "O Bhima, if thou thinkest it a hard task for thee to overcome this Rakshasa in combat, let me render thee help, else, slay him thyself without loss of time. Or, O Vrikodara, let me alone slay the Rakshasa. Thou art tired, and hast almost finished the affair. Well dost thou deserve rest."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Arjuna, Bhima was fired with rage and dashing the Rakshasa on the ground with all his might slew him as if he were an animal. The Rakshasa, while dying, sent forth a terrible yell that filled the whole forest, and was deep as the sound of a wet drum. Then the mighty Bhima, holding the body with his hands, bent it double, and breaking it in the middle, greatly gratified his brothers. Beholding Hidimva slain, they became exceedingly glad and lost no time in offering their congratulations to Bhima, that chastiser of all foes. Then Arjuna worshipping the illustrious Bhima of terrible prowess, addressed him again and said, "Revered senior, I think there is a town not far off from this forest. Blest be thou, let us go hence soon, so that Duryodhana may not trace us." "'Then all those mighty car-warriors, those tigers among men, saying, "So be it," proceeded along with their mother, followed by Hidimva, the Rakshasa woman.'" SECTION CLVII (Hidimva-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Bhima, beholding Hidimva following them, addressed her, saying, "Rakshasas revenge themselves on their enemies by adopting deceptions that are incapable of being penetrated. Therefore, O Hidimva, go thou the way on which thy brother hath gone." Then Yudhishthira beholding Bhima in rage, said, "O Bhima, O tiger among men, however enraged, do not slay a woman. O Pandava, the observance of virtue is a higher duty than the protection of life. Hidimva, who had come with the object of slaying us, thou hast already slain. This woman is the sister of that Rakshasa, what can she do to us even if she were angry?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Hidimva reverentially saluting Kunti and her son Yudhishthira also, said, with joined palms, "O revered lady, thou knowest the pangs that women are made to feel at the hands of the deity of love. Blessed dame, these pangs, of which Bhimasena hath been the cause, are torturing me. I had hitherto borne these insufferable pangs, waiting for the time (when thy son could assuage them). That time is now come, when I expected I would be made happy. Casting off my friends and relations and the usage of my race, I have, O blessed lady, chosen this son of thine, this tiger among men, as my husband. I tell thee truly, O illustrious lady, that if I am cast off by that hero or by thee either, I will no longer bear this life of mine. Therefore, O thou of the fairest complexion, it behoveth thee to show me mercy, thinking me either as very silly or thy obedient slave. O illustrious dame, unite me with this thy son, my husband. Endued as he is with the form of a celestial, let me go taking him with me wherever I like. Trust me, O blessed lady, I will again bring him back unto you all. When you think of me I will come to you immediately and convey you whithersoever ye may command. I will rescue you from all dangers and carry you across inaccessible and uneven regions. I will carry you on my back whenever ye desire to proceed with swiftness. O, be gracious unto me and make Bhima accept me. It hath been said that in a season of distress one should protect one's life by any means. He, that seeketh to discharge that duty should not scruple about the means. He, that in a season of distress keepeth his virtue, is the foremost of virtuous men. Indeed, distress is the greatest danger to virtue and virtuous men. It is virtue that protecteth life; therefore is virtue called the giver of life. Hence the means by which virtue or the observance of a duty is secured can never be censurable." "'Hearing these words of Hidimva, Yudhishthira said. "It is even so, O Hidimva, as thou sayest. There is no doubt of it. But, O thou of slender waist, thou must act even as thou hast said. Bhima will, after he hath washed himself and said his prayers and performed the usual propitiatory rites, pay his attentions to thee till the sun sets. Sport thou with him as thou likest during the day, O thou that art endued with the speed of the mind! But thou must bring back Bhimasena hither every day at night- fall."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Bhima, expressing his assent to all that Yudhishthira said, addressed Hidimva, saying, "Listen to me, O Rakshasa woman! Truly do I make this engagement with thee that I will stay with thee, O thou of slender waist, until thou obtainest a son." Then Hidimva, saying, "So be it," took Bhima upon her body and sped through the skies. On mountain peaks of picturesque scenery and regions sacred to the gods, abounding with dappled herds and echoing with the melodies of feathered tribes, herself assuming the handsomest form decked with every ornament and pouring forth at times mellifluous strains, Hidimva sported with the Pandava and studied to make him happy. So also, in inaccessible regions of forests, and on mountain-breasts overgrown with blossoming trees on lakes resplendent with lotuses and lilies, islands of rivers and their pebbly banks, on sylvan streams with beautiful banks and mountain-currents, in picturesque woods with blossoming trees and creepers in Himalayan bowers, and various caves, on crystal pools smiling with lotuses, on sea-shores shining with gold and pearls, in beautiful towns and fine gardens, in woods sacred to the gods and on hill-sides, in the regions of Guhyakas and ascetics, on the banks of Manasarovara abounding with fruits and flowers of every season Hidimva, assuming the handsomest form, sported with Bhima and studied to make him happy. Endued with the speed of the mind, she sported with Bhima in all these regions, till in time, she conceived and brought forth a mighty son begotten upon her by the Pandava. Of terrible eyes and large mouth and straight arrowy ears, the child was terrible to behold. Of lips brown as copper and sharp teeth and loud roar, of mighty arms and great strength and excessive prowess, this child became a mighty bowman. Of long nose, broad chest, frightfully swelling calves, celerity of motion and excessive strength, he had nothing human in his countenance, though born of man. And he excelled (in strength and prowess) all Pisachas and kindred tribes as well as all Rakshasas. And, O monarch, though a little child, he grew up a youth the very hour he was born. The mighty hero soon acquired high proficiency in the use of all weapons. The Rakshasa women bring forth the very day they conceive, and capable of assuming any forms at will, they always change their forms. And the bald- headed child, that mighty bowman, soon after his birth, bowing down to his mother, touched her feet and the feet also of his father. His parents then bestowed upon him a name. His mother having remarked that his head was (bald) like unto a Ghata (water-pot), both his parents thereupon called him Ghatotkacha (the pot-headed). And Ghatotkacha who was exceedingly devoted to the Pandavas, became a great favourite with them, indeed almost one of them. "'Then Hidimva, knowing that the period of her stay (with her husband) had come to an end, saluted the Pandavas and making a new appointment with them went away whithersoever she liked. And Ghatotkacha also--that foremost of Rakshasas--promising unto his father that he would come when wanted on business, saluted them and went away northward. Indeed, it was the illustrious Indra who created (by lending a portion of himself) the mighty car-warrior Ghatotkacha as a fit antagonist of Karna of unrivalled energy, in consequence of the dart he had given unto Karna (and which was sure to kill the person against whom it would be hurled).'" SECTION CLVIII (Hidimva-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Those mighty car-warriors, the heroic Pandavas, then went, O king, from forest to forest killing deer and many animals (for their food). And in the course of their wanderings they saw the countries of the Matsyas, the Trigartas, the Panchalas and then of the Kichakas, and also many beautiful woods and lakes therein. And they all had matted locks on their heads and were attired in barks of trees and the skins of animals. Indeed, with Kunti in their company those illustrious heroes were attired in the garbs of ascetics. And those mighty car-warriors sometimes proceeded in haste, carrying their mother on their backs; and sometimes they proceeded in disguise, and sometimes again with great celerity. And they used to study the Rik and the other Vedas and also all the Vedangas as well as the sciences of morals and politics. And the Pandavas, conversant with the science of morals, met, in course of their wanderings their grandfather (Vyasa). And saluting the illustrious Krishna-Dwaipayana, those chastisers of enemies, with their mother, stood before him with joined hands. "'Vyasa then said, "Ye bulls of Bharata's race, I knew beforehand of this affliction of yours consisting in your deceitful exile by the son of Dhritarashtra. Knowing this, I have come to you, desirous of doing you some great good. Do not grieve for what hath befallen you. Know that all this is for your happiness. Undoubtedly, the sons of Dhritarashtra and you are all equal in my eye. But men are always partial to those who are in misfortune or of tender years. It is therefore, that my affection for you is greater now. And in consequence of that affection, I desire to do you good. Listen to me! Not far off before you is a delightful town where no danger can overtake you. Live ye there in disguise, waiting for my return."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Vyasa, the son of Satyavati, thus comforting the Pandavas, led them into the town of Ekachakra. And the master also comforted Kunti, saying, "Live, O daughter! This son of thine, Yudhishthira, ever devoted to truth, this illustrious bull among men, having by his justice conquered the whole world, will rule over all the other monarchs of the earth. There is little doubt that, having by means of Bhima's and Arjuna's prowess conquered the whole earth with her belt of seas, he will enjoy the sovereignty thereof. Thy sons as well as those of Madri--mighty car-warriors all--will cheerfully sport as pleaseth them in their dominions. These tigers among men will also perform various sacrifices, such as the Rajasuya and the horse-sacrifice, in which the presents unto the Brahmanas are very large. And these thy sons will rule their ancestral kingdom, maintaining their friends and relatives in luxury and affluence and happiness." "Vaisampayana continued, 'With these words Vyasa introduced them into the dwelling of a Brahmana. And the island-born Rishi, addressing the eldest of the Pandavas, said, "Wait here for me! I will come back to you! By adapting yourselves to the country and the occasion you will succeed in becoming very happy." "'Then, O king, the Pandavas with joined hands said unto the Rishi, "So be it." And the illustrious master, the Rishi Vyasa, then went away to the region whence he had come.'" SECTION CLIX (Vaka-vadha Parva) "Janamejaya asked, 'O first of Brahmanas, what did the Pandavas, those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Kunti, do after arriving at Ekachakra?' "Vaisampayana said, 'Those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Kunti, on arriving at Ekachakra, lived for a short time in the abode of a Brahmana. Leading an eleemosynary life, they beheld (in course of their wanderings) various delightful forests and earthly regions, and many rivers and lakes, and they became great favourites of the inhabitants of that town in consequence of their own accomplishments. At nightfall they placed before Kunti all they gathered in their mendicant tours, and Kunti used to divide the whole amongst them, each taking what was allotted to him. And those heroic chastisers of foes, with their mother, together took one moiety of the whole, while the mighty Bhima alone took the other moiety. In this way, O bull of Bharata's race, the illustrious Pandavas lived there for some time. "'One day, while those bulls of the Bharata race were out on their tour of mendicancy, it so happened that Bhima was (at home) with (his mother) Pritha. That day, O Bharata, Kunti heard a loud and heart-rending wail of sorrow coming from within the apartments of the Brahmana. Hearing the inmates of the Brahmana's house wailing and indulging in piteous lamentations, Kunti, O king, from compassion and the goodness of her heart, could not bear it with indifference. Afflicted with sorrow, the amiable Pritha, addressing Bhima, said these words full of compassion. "Our woes assuaged, we are, O son, living happily in the house of this Brahmana, respected by him and unknown to Dhritarashtra's son. O son, I always think of the good I should do to this Brahmana, like what they do that live happily in others' abodes! O child, he is a true man upon whom favours are never lost. He payeth back to others more than what he receiveth at their hands. There is no doubt, some affliction hath overtaken this Brahmana. If we could be of any help to him, we should then be requiting his services." "'Hearing these words of his mother, Bhima said, "Ascertain, O mother the nature of the Brahmana's distress and whence also it hath arisen. Learning all about it, relieve it I will however difficult may the task prove." "Vaisampayana continued 'While mother and son were thus talking with each other, they heard again, O king, another wail of sorrow proceeding from the Brahmana and his wife. Then Kunti quickly entered the inner apartments of that illustrious Brahmana, like unto a cow running towards her tethered calf. She beheld the Brahmana with his wife, son and daughter, sitting with a woeful face, and she heard the Brahmana say, "Oh, fie on this earthly life which is hollow as the reed and so fruitless after all which is based on sorrow and hath no freedom, and which hath misery for its lot! Life is sorrow and disease; life is truly a record of misery! The soul is one: but it hath to pursue virtue, wealth and pleasure. And because these are pursued at one and the same time, there frequently occurs a disagreement that is the source of much misery. Some say that salvation is the highest object of our desire. But I believe it can never be attained. The acquisition of wealth is hell; the pursuit of wealth is attended with misery; there is more misery after one has acquired it, for one loves one's possessions, and if any mishap befalls them, the possessor becomes afflicted with woe. I do not see by what means I can escape from this danger, nor how I can fly hence, with my wife to some region free from danger. Remember, O wife, that I endeavoured to migrate to some other place where we would be happy, but thou didst not then listen to me. Though frequently solicited by me, thou, O simple woman, said to me, 'I have been born here, and here have I grown old; this is my ancestral homestead.' Thy venerable father, O wife, and thy mother also, have, a long time ago, ascended to heaven. Thy relations also had all been dead. Oh why then didst thou yet like to live here? Led by affection for thy relatives thou didst not then hear what I said. But the time is now come when thou art to witness the death of a relative. Oh, how sad is that spectacle for me! Or perhaps the time is come for my own death, for I shall never be able to abandon cruelly one of my own as long as I myself am alive. Thou art my helpmate in all good deeds, self-denying and always affectionate unto me as a mother. The gods have given thee to me as a true friend and thou art ever my prime stay. Thou hast, by my parents, been made the participator in my domestic concerns. Thou art of pure lineage and good disposition, the mother of children, devoted to me, and so innocent; having chosen and wedded thee with due rites, I cannot abandon thee, my wife, so constant in thy vows, to save my life. How shall I myself be able to sacrifice my son a child of tender years and yet without the hirsute appendages (of manhood)? How shall I sacrifice my daughter whom I have begotten myself, who hath been placed, as a pledge, in my hands by the Creator himself for bestowal on a husband and through whom I hope to enjoy, along with my ancestors, the regions attainable by those only that have daughters' sons? Some people think that the father's affection for a son is greater; others, that his affection for a daughter is greater; mine, however, is equal. How can I be prepared to give up the innocent daughter upon whom rest the regions of bliss obtainable by me in after life and my own lineage and perpetual happiness? If, again, I sacrifice myself and go to the other world, I should scarcely know any peace, for, indeed, it is evident that, left by me these would not be able to support life. The sacrifice of any of these would be cruel and censurable. On the other hand, if I sacrifice myself, these, without me, will certainly perish. The distress into which I have fallen is great; nor do I know the means of escape. Alas, what course shall I take today with my near ones. It is well that I should die with all these, for I can live no longer."'" SECTION CLX (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'On hearing these words of the Brahmana, his wife said, "Thou shouldst not, O Brahmana, grieve like an ordinary man. Nor is this the time for mourning. Thou hast learning; thou knowest that all men are sure to die; none should grieve for that which is inevitable. Wife, son, and daughter, all these are sought for one's own self. As thou art possessed of a good understanding, kill thou thy sorrows. I will myself go there. This indeed, is the highest and the eternal duty of a woman, viz., that by sacrificing her life she should seek the good of her husband. Such an act done by me will make thee happy, and bring me fame in this world and eternal bliss hereafter. This, indeed, is the highest virtue that I tell thee, and thou mayest, by this, acquire both virtue and happiness. The object for which one desireth a wife hath already been achieved by thee through me. I have borne thee a daughter and a son and thus been freed from the debt I had owed thee. Thou art well able to support and cherish the children, but I however, can never support and cherish them like thee. Thou art my life, wealth, and lord; bereft of thee, how shall these children of tender years--how also shall I myself, exist? Widowed and masterless, with two children depending on me, how shall I, without thee, keep alive the pair, myself leading an honest life? If the daughter of thine is solicited (in marriage) by persons dishonourable and vain and unworthy of contracting an alliance with thee, how shall I be able to protect the girl? Indeed, as birds seek with avidity for meat that hath been thrown away on the ground, so do men solicit a woman that hath lost her husband. O best of Brahmanas, solicited by wicked men, I may waver and may not be able to continue in the path that is desired by all honest men. How shall I be able to place this sole daughter of thy house--this innocent girl--in the way along which her ancestors have always walked? How shall I then be able to impart unto this child every desirable accomplishment to make him virtuous as thyself, in that season of want when I shall become masterless? Overpowering myself who shall be masterless, unworthy persons will demand (the hand of) this daughter of thine, like Sudras desiring to hear the Vedas. And if I bestow not upon them this girl possessing thy blood and qualities, they may even take her away by force, like crows carrying away the sacrificial butter. And beholding thy son become so unlike to thee, and thy daughter placed under the control of some unworthy persons, I shall be despised in the world by even persons that are dishonourable, and I will certainly die. These children also, bereft of me and thee, their father, will, I doubt not, perish like fish when the water drieth up. There is no doubt that bereft of thee the three will perish: therefore it behoveth thee to sacrifice me. O Brahmana, persons conversant with morals have said that for women that have borne children, to predecease their lords is an act of the highest merit. Ready am I to abandon this son and this daughter, these my relations, and life itself, for thee. For a woman to be ever employed in doing agreeable offices to her lord is a higher duty than sacrifices, asceticism, vows, and charities of every description. The act, therefore, which I intend to perform is consonant with the highest virtue and is for thy good and that of thy race. The wise have declared that children and relatives and wife and all things held dear are cherished for the purpose of liberating one's self from danger and distress. One must guard one's wealth for freeing one's self from danger, and it is by his wealth that he should cherish and protect his wife. But he must protect his own self both by (means of) his wife and his wealth. The learned have enunciated the truth that one's wife, son, wealth, and house, are acquired with the intention of providing against accidents, foreseen or unforeseen. The wise have also said that all one's relations weighed against one's own self would not be equal unto one's self. Therefore, revered sir, protect thy own self by abandoning me. O, give me leave to sacrifice myself, and cherish thou my children. Those that are conversant with the morals have, in their treatises, said, that women should never be slaughtered and that Rakshasas are not ignorant of the rules of morality. Therefore, while it is certain that the Rakshasa will kill a man, it is doubtful whether he will kill a woman. It behoveth thee, therefore, being conversant with the rules of morality, to place me before the Rakshasa. I have enjoyed much happiness, have obtained much that is agreeable to me, and have also acquired great religious merit. I have also obtained from thee children that are so dear to me. Therefore, it grieveth not me to die. I have borne thee children and have also grown old; I am ever desirous of doing good to thee; remembering all these I have come to this resolution. O revered sir, abandoning me thou mayest obtain another wife. By her thou mayest again acquire religious merit. There is no sin in this. For a man polygamy is an act of merit, but for a woman it is very sinful to betake herself to a second husband after the first. Considering all this, and remembering too that sacrifice of thy own self is censurable, O, liberate today without loss of time thy own self, thy race, and these thy children (by abandoning me)."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by her, O Bharata, the Brahmana embraced her, and they both began to weep in silence, afflicted with grief.'" SECTION CLXI (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'On hearing these words of her afflicted parents, the daughter was filled with grief, and she addressed them, saying, "Why are you so afflicted and why do you so weep, as if you have none to look after you? O, listen to me and do what may be proper. There is little doubt that you are bound in duty to abandon me at a certain time. Sure to abandon me once, O, abandon me now and save every thing at the expense of me alone. Men desire to have children, thinking that children would save them (in this world as well as in the region hereafter). O, cross the stream of your difficulties by means of my poor self, as if I were a raft. A child rescueth his parents in this and the other regions; therefore is the child called by the learned Putra (rescuer). The ancestors desire daughter's sons from me (as a special means of salvation). But (without waiting for my children) I myself will rescue them by protecting the life of my father. This my brother is of tender years, so there is little doubt that he will perish if thou diest now. If thou, my father, diest and my brother followeth thee, the funeral cake of the Pitris will be suspended and they will be greatly injured. Left behind by my father and brother, and by my mother also (for she will not survive her husband and son) I shall be plunged deeper and deeper in woe and ultimately perish in great distress. There can be little doubt that if thou escape from this danger as also my mother and infant brother, then thy race and the (ancestral) cake will be perpetuated. The son is one's own self; the wife is one's friend; the daughter, however, is the source of trouble. Do thou save thyself, therefore, by removing that source of trouble, and do thou thereby set me in the path of virtue. As I am a girl, O father, destitute of thee, I shall be helpless and plunged in woe, and shall have to go everywhere. It is therefore that I am resolved to rescue my father's race and share the merit of that act by accomplishing this difficult task. If thou, O best of Brahmanas, goest thither (unto the Rakshasa), leaving me here, then I shall be very much pained. Therefore, O father, be kind to me. O thou best of men, for our sake, for that of virtue and also thy race, save thyself, abandoning me, whom at one time thou shall be constrained to part from. There need be no delay, O father, in doing that which is inevitable. What can be more painful than that, when thou hast ascended to heaven, we shall have to go about begging our food, like dogs, from strangers. But if thou art with thy relations from these difficulties, I shall then live happily in the region of the celestials. It hath been heard by us that if after bestowing thy daughter in this way, thou offerest oblations to the gods and the celestials, they will certainly be propitious."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The Brahmana and his wife, hearing these various lamentations of their daughter, became sadder than before and the three began to weep together. Their son, then, of tender years, beholding them and their daughter thus weeping together, lisped these words in a sweet tone, his eyes having dilated with delight, "Weep not, O father, nor thou, O mother, nor thou O sister!" And smilingly did the child approach each of them, and at last taking up a blade of grass said in glee, "With this will I slay the Rakshasa who eateth human beings!" Although all of them had been plunged in woe, yet hearing what the child lisped so sweetly, joy appeared on their faces. Then Kunti thinking that to be the proper opportunity, approached the group and said these words. Indeed, her words revived them as nectar reviveth a person that is dead.'" SECTION CLXII (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "'Kunti said, 'I desire to learn from you the cause of this grief, for I will remove it, if possible.' "'The Brahmana replied, 'O thou of ascetic wealth, thy speech is indeed worthy of thee. But this grief is incapable of being removed by any human being. Not far from this town, there liveth a Rakshasa of the name of Vaka, which cannibal is the lord of this country and town. Thriving on human flesh, that wretched Rakshasa endued with great strength ruleth this country. He being the chief of the Asuras, this town and the country in which it is situate are protected by his might. We have no fear from the machinations of any enemy, or indeed from any living soul. The fee, however, fixed for that cannibal is his food, which consists of a cart- load of rice, two buffaloes, and a human being who conveyeth them unto him. One after another, the house-holders have to send him this food. The turn, however, cometh to a particular family at intervals of many long years. If there are any that seek to avoid it, the Rakshasa slayeth them with their children and wives and devoureth them all. There is, in this country, a city called Vetrakiya, where liveth the king of these territories. He is ignorant of the science of government, and possessed of little intelligence, he adopts not with care any measure by which these territories may be rendered safe for all time to come. But we certainly deserve it all, inasmuch as we live within the dominion of that wretched and weak monarch in perpetual anxiety. Brahmanas can never be made to dwell permanently within the dominions of any one, for they are dependent on nobody, they live rather like birds ranging all countries in perfect freedom. It hath been said that one must secure a (good) king, then a wife, and then wealth. It is by the acquisition of these three that one can rescue his relatives and sons. But as regards the acquisition of these three, the course of my actions hath been the reverse. Hence, plunged into a sea of danger, I am suffering sorely. That turn, destructive of one's family, hath now devolved upon me. I shall have to give unto the Rakshasa as his fee the food of the aforesaid description and one human being to boot. I have no wealth to buy a man with. I cannot by any means consent to part with any one of my family, nor do I see any way of escape from (the clutches of) that Rakshasa. I am now sunk in an ocean of grief from which there is no escape. I shall go to that Rakshasa today, attended by all my family in order that that wretch might devour us all at once.'" SECTION CLXIII (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "'Kunti said, "Grieve not at all, O Brahmana, on account of this danger. I see a way by which to rescue thee from that Rakshasa. Thou hast only one son, who, besides, is of very tender years, also only one daughter, young and helpless, so I do not like that any of these, or thy wife, or even thyself should go unto the Rakshasa. I have five sons, O Brahmana, let one of them go, carrying in thy behalf tribute of that Rakshasa." "'Hearing this, the Brahmana replied, "To save my own life I shall never suffer this to be done. I shall never sacrifice, to save myself, the life of a Brahmana or of a guest. Indeed, even those that are of low origin and of sinful practices refuse to do (what thou askest me to do). It is said that one should sacrifice one's self and one's offspring for the benefit of a Brahmana. I regard this advice excellent and I like to follow it too. When I have to choose between the death of a Brahmana and that of my own, I would prefer the latter. The killing of a Brahmana is the highest sin, and there is no expiation for it. I think a reluctant sacrifice of one's own self is better than the reluctant sacrifice of a Brahmana. O blessed lady, in sacrificing myself I do not become guilty of self-destruction. No sin can attach to me when another will take my life. But if I deliberately consent to the death of a Brahmana, it would be a cruel and sinful act, from the consequence of which there is no escape. The learned have said that the abandonment of one who hath come to thy house or sought thy protection, as also the killing of one who seeketh death at thy hands, is both cruel and sinful. The illustrious among those conversant with practices allowable in seasons of distress, have before now said that one should never perform an act that is cruel and censurable. It is well for me that I should today perish myself with my wife, but I would never sanction the death of a Brahmana." "'Kunti said, "I too am firmly of opinion, O Brahmana, that Brahmanas should ever be protected. As regards myself, no son of mine would be less dear to me even if I had a hundred instead of the five I have. But this Rakshasa will not be able to kill my son, for that son of mine is endued with great prowess and energy, and skilled in mantras. He will faithfully deliver to the Rakshasa his food, but will, I know to a certainty, rescue himself. I have seen before many mighty Rakshasas of huge bodies engaged in combat with my heroic son and killed too by him. But, O Brahmana, do not disclose this fact to anybody, for if it be known, persons desirous of obtaining this power, will, from curiosity, always trouble my sons. The wise have said that if my son imparteth any knowledge, without the assent of his preceptor, unto any person, my son himself will no longer be able to profit by that knowledge." "'Thus addressed by Pritha, the Brahmana with his wife became exceedingly glad and assented to Kunti's speech, which was unto them as nectar. Then Kunti, accompanied by the Brahmana, went unto the son of Vayu (Bhima) and asked him to accomplish (that difficult task). Bhima replied unto them, saying, "So be it."'" SECTION CLXIV (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After Bhima had pledged himself to accomplish the task, saying, "I will do it," the Pandavas, O Bharata, returned home with the alms they had obtained during the day. Then Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu from Bhima's countenance alone, suspected the nature of the task he had undertaken to accomplish. Sitting by the side of his mother, Yudhishthira asked her in private, "What is the task, O mother, that Bhima of terrible prowess seeketh to accomplish? Doth he do so at thy command or of his own accord?" Kunti replied, "Bhima, that chastiser of foes, will at my command, do this great deed for the good of the Brahmana and the liberation of this town." "'Yudhishthira said, "What rash act hast thou done, O mother! It is difficult of being performed and almost amounteth to suicide! The learned never applaud the abandonment of one's own child. Why dost thou, O mother, wish to sacrifice thy own child for the sake of another's? Thou hast, O mother, by this abandonment of thy child, acted not only against the course of human practices but also against the teachings of the Vedas. That Bhima, relying on whose arms we sleep happily in the night and hope to recover the kingdom of which we have been deprived by the covetous son of Dhritarashtra, that hero of immeasurable energy, remembering whose prowess Duryodhana and Sakuni do not sleep a wink during the whole night and by whose prowess we were rescued from the palace of lac and various other dangers, that Bhima who caused the death of Purochana, and relying on whose might we regard ourselves as having already slain the sons of Dhritarashtra and acquired the whole earth with all her wealth, upon what considerations, O mother, hast thou resolved upon abandoning him? Hast thou been deprived of thy reason? Hath thy understanding been clouded by the calamities thou hast undergone?" "'On hearing these words of her son, Kunti said, "O Yudhishthira, thou needst not be at all anxious on account of Vrikodara. I have not come to this resolve owing to any weakness of understanding. Respected by him, and with our sorrows assuaged, we have, O son, been living in the house of this Brahmana, unknown to the sons of Dhritarashtra. For requiting, O son, that Brahmana, I have resolved to do this. He, indeed, is a man upon whom good offices are never lost. The measure of his requital becometh greater than the measure of the services he receiveth. Beholding the prowess of Bhima on the occasion of (our escape from) the house of lac, and from the destruction also of Hidimva, my confidence in Vrikodara is great. The might of Bhima's arms is equal unto that of ten thousand elephants. It was, therefore, that he succeeded in carrying you all, each heavy as an elephant, from Varanavata. There is no one on earth equal unto Bhima in might; he may even overcome that foremost of warriors, the holder of the thunderbolt himself. Soon after his birth he fell from my lap on the breast of the mountain. By the weight of his body the mass of stone on which he fell down broke in pieces. From this also, O son of Pandu, I have come to know Bhima's might. For this reason have I resolved to set him against the Brahmana's foe. I have not acted in this from foolishness or ignorance or from motive of gain. I have deliberately resolved to do this virtuous deed. By this act, O Yudhishthira, two objects will be accomplished; one is a requital of the services rendered by the Brahmana and the other is the acquisition of high religious merit. It is my conviction that the Kshatriya who rendereth help unto a Brahmana in anything acquireth regions of bliss hereafter. So also a Kshatriya who saveth the life of a Kshatriya achieveth that great fame in this world as in the other. A Kshatriya rendering help unto a Vaisya also on this earth certainly acquires world-wide popularity. One of the kingly tribe should protect even the Sudra who cometh to him for protection. If he doeth so, in his next life he receiveth his birth in a royal line, commanding prosperity and the respect of other kings. O scion of Puru's race, the illustrious Vyasa of wisdom acquired by hard ascetic toil told me so in bygone days. It is therefore, that I have resolved upon accomplishing this."'" SECTION CLXV (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "'Having heard these words of his mother, Yudhishthira said, "What thou, O mother, hast deliberately done, moved by compassion for the afflicted Brahmana, is, indeed, excellent. Bhima will certainly come back with life, after having slain the cannibal, inasmuch as thou art, O mother, always compassionate unto Brahmanas. But tell the Brahmana, O mother, that he doth not do anything whereby the dwellers in this town may know all about it, and make him promise to keep thy request."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then, when the night passed away, Bhimasena, the son of Pandu, taking with him the Rakshasa's food set out for the place where the cannibal lived. The mighty son of Pandu, approaching the forest where the Rakshasa dwelt, began to eat himself the food he carried, calling loudly to the Rakshasa by name. The Rakshasa, inflamed with anger at Bhima's words, came out and approached the place where Bhima was. "'Of huge body and great strength, of red eyes, red beard, and red hair, he was terrible to behold, and he came, pressing deep the earth with his tread. The opening of his mouth, was from ear to ear and his ears themselves were straight as arrows. Of grim visage, he had a forehead furrowed into three lines. Beholding Bhima eating his food, the Rakshasa advanced, biting his nether lip and expanding his eyes in wrath. And addressing Bhima he said, "Who is this fool, who desiring to go to the abode of Yama, eateth in my very sight the food intended for me?" Hearing these words, Bhima, O Bharata, smiled in derision and disregarding the Rakshasa, continued eating with averted face. Beholding this, the cannibal uttered a frightful yell and with both arms upraised ran at Bhima desiring to kill him, there and then. Even then disregarding the Rakshasa and casting only a single glance at him, Vrikodara, that slayer of hostile heroes continued to eat the Rakshasa's food. Filled with wrath at this, the Rakshasa struck from behind with both his arms a heavy blow on the back of Vrikodara, the son of Kunti. But Bhima, though struck heavily by the mighty Rakshasa, with both his hands, did not even look up at the Rakshasa but continued to eat as before. Then the mighty Rakshasa, inflamed with wrath, tore up a tree and ran at Bhima for striking him again. Meanwhile the mighty Bhima, that bull among men had leisurely eaten up the whole of that food and washing himself stood cheerfully for fight. Then, O Bharata, possessed of great energy, Bhima, smiling in derision, caught with his left hand the tree hurled at him by the Rakshasa in wrath. Then that mighty Rakshasa, tearing up many more trees, hurled them at Bhima, and the Pandava also hurled as many at the Rakshasa. Then, O king, the combat with trees between that human being and the Rakshasa, became so terrible that the region around soon became destitute of trees. Then the Rakshasa, saying that he was none else than Vaka, sprang upon the Pandava and seized the mighty Bhima with his arms. That mighty hero also clasping with his own strong arms the strong-armed Rakshasa, and exerting himself actively, began to drag him violently. Dragged by Bhima and dragging Bhima also, the cannibal was overcome with great fatigue. The earth began to tremble in consequence of the strength they both exerted, and large trees that stood there broke in pieces. Then Bhima, beholding the cannibal overcome with fatigue, pressed him down on the earth with his knees and began to strike him with great force. Then placing one knee on the middle of the Rakshasa's back, Bhima seized his neck with his right hand and the cloth on his waist with his left, and bent him double with great force. The cannibal then roared frightfully. And, O monarch, he also began to vomit blood while he was being thus broken on Bhima's knee.'" SECTION CLXVI (Vaka-vadha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said 'Then Vaka, huge as a mountain, thus broken (on Bhima's knee), died, uttering frightful yells. Terrified by these sounds, the relatives of that Rakshasa came out, O king, with their attendants. Bhima, that foremost of smiters, seeing them so terrified and deprived of reason, comforted them and made them promise (to give up cannibalism), saying, "Do not ever again kill human beings. If ye kill men, ye will have to die even as Vaka." Those Rakshasas hearing this speech of Bhima, said, "So be it," and gave, O king, the desired promise. From that day, O Bharata, the Rakshasas (of the region) were seen by the inhabitants of that town to be very peaceful towards mankind. Then Bhima, dragging the lifeless cannibal, placed him at one of the gates of the town and went away unobserved by any one. The kinsmen of Vaka, beholding him slain by the might of Bhima, became frightened and fled in different directions. "'Meanwhile Bhima, having slain the Rakshasa, returned to the Brahmana's abode and related to Yudhishthira all that had happened, in detail. The next morning the inhabitants of the town in coming out saw the Rakshasa lying dead on the ground, his body covered with blood. Beholding that terrible cannibal, huge as a mountain cliff, thus mangled and lying on the ground, the hair of the spectators stood erect. Returning to Ekachakra, they soon gave the intelligence. Then, O king, the citizens by thousands accompanied by their wives, young and old, all began to come to the spot for beholding the Vaka and they were all amazed at seeing that superhuman feat. Instantly, O monarch, they began to pray to their gods. Then they began to calculate whose turn it had been the day before to carry food to the Rakshasa. And ascertaining this, they all came to that Brahmana and asked him (to satisfy their curiosity). Thus asked by them repeatedly, that bull among Brahmanas, desirous of concealing the Pandavas, said these words unto all the citizens, "A certain high-souled Brahmana, skilled in mantras, beheld me weeping with my relatives after I had been ordered to supply the Rakshasa's food. Asking me the cause and ascertaining the distress of the town, that first of Brahmanas gave me every assurance and with smiles said, 'I shall carry the food for that wretched Rakshasa today. Do not fear for me.' Saying this he conveyed the food towards the forest of Vaka. This deed, so beneficial unto us all, hath very certainly been done by him." "'Then those Brahmanas and Kshatriyas (of the city), hearing this, wondered much. And the Vaisyas and the Sudras also became exceedingly glad, and they all established a festival in which the worship of Brahmanas was the principal ceremony (in remembrance of this Brahmana who had relieved them from their fears of Vaka).'" SECTION CLXVII (Chaitraratha Parva) "'After this citizens returned to their respective houses and the Pandavas continued to dwell at Ekachakra as before.' "Janamejaya said, 'O Brahmana, what did those tigers among men, the Pandavas, do after they had slain the Rakshasa Vaka?' "Vaisampayana said, 'The Pandavas, O king, after slaying the Rakshasa Vaka, continued to dwell in the abode of that Brahmana, employed in the study of the Vedas. Within a few days there came a Brahmana of rigid vows unto the abode of their host to take up his quarters there. Their host, that bull among Brahmanas, ever hospitable unto all guests, worshipping the newly- arrived Brahmana with due ceremonies, gave him quarters in his own abode. Then those bulls among men, the Pandavas, with their mother Kunti, solicited the new lodger to narrate to them his interesting experiences. The Brahmana spake to them of various countries and shrines and (holy) rivers, of kings and many wonderful provinces and cities. And after this narration was over, that Brahmana, O Janamejaya, also spoke of the wonderful self-choice of Yajnasena's daughter, the princess of Panchala, and of the births of Dhrishtadyumna and Sikhandi, and of the birth, without the intervention of a woman, of Krishna (Draupadi) at the great sacrifice of Drupada. "'Then those bulls among men, the Pandavas, hearing of these extraordinary facts regarding that illustrious monarch (Drupada), and desiring to know the details thereof, asked the Brahmana, after his narration was concluded, to satisfy their curiosity. The Pandavas said, "How, O Brahmana, did the birth of Dhrishtadyumna the son of Drupada, take place from the (sacrificial) fire? How also did the extraordinary birth of Krishna take place from the centre of the sacrificial platform? How also did Drupada's son learn all weapons from the great bowman Drona? And, O Brahmana, how and for whom and for what reason was the friendship between Drona and Drupada broken off?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus questioned, O monarch, by those bulls among men, the Brahmana narrated all the particulars about the birth of Draupadi.'" SECTION CLXVIII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Brahmana said, "At that region where the Ganga entered the plains there lived a great Rishi, devoted to the austerest of penances. Of rigid vows and great wisdom, he bore the name Bharadwaja. One day, on coming to the Ganga to perform his ablutions, the Rishi saw the Apsara Ghritachi, who had come before, standing on the bank after her ablutions were over. And it so happened that a wind arose and disrobed the Apsara standing there. And the Rishi beholding her thus disrobed, felt the influence of desire. Though practising the vow of continence from his very youth, as soon as he felt the influence of desire, the Rishi's vital fluid came out. And as it came out, he held it in a pot (drana), and of that fluid thus preserved in a pot was born a son who came to be called Drona (the pot- born). And Drona studied all the Vedas and their several branches. And Bharadwaja had a friend named Prishata who was the king of Panchalas. And about the time that Drona was born, Prishata also obtained a son named Drupada. And that bull amongst Kshatriyas, Prishata's son, going every day to that asylum of Bharadwaja, played and studied with Drona. And after Prishata's death, Drupada succeeded him on the throne. Drona about this time heard that (the great Brahmana hero) Rama (on the eve of his retiring into the woods) was resolved to give away all his wealth. Hearing this, the son of Bharadwaja repaired unto Rama who was about to retire into the woods and addressing him, said, 'O best of Brahmanas, know me to be Drona who hath come to thee to obtain thy wealth.' Rama replied, saying, 'I have given away everything. All that I now have is this body of mine and my weapons. O Brahmana, thou mayest ask of me one of these two, either my body or my weapons.' Then Drona said, 'It behoveth thee, sir, to give me all thy weapons together with (the mysteries of) their use and withdrawal.'" "'The Brahmana continued, "Then Rama of Bhrigu's race, saying, 'So be it,' gave all his weapons unto Drona, who obtaining them regarded himself as crowned with success. Drona obtaining from Rama the most exalted of all weapons, called the Brahma weapon, became exceedingly glad and acquired a decided superiority over all men. Then the son of Bharadwaja, endued with great prowess went to king Drupada, and approaching that monarch, that tiger among men, said, 'Know me for thy friend.' Hearing this Drupada said, 'One of low birth can never be the friend of one whose lineage is pure, nor can one who is not a car-warrior have a car-warrior for his friend. So also one who is not a king cannot have a king as his friend. Why dost thou, therefore, desire (to revive our) former friendship?'" "'The Brahmana continued, "Drona, gifted with great intelligence, was extremely mortified at this, and settling in his mind some means of humiliating the king of the Panchala he went to the capital of the Kurus, called after the name of an elephant. Then Bhishma, taking with him his grandsons, presented them unto the wise son of Bharadwaja as his pupils for instruction, along with various kinds of wealth. Then Drona, desirous of humiliating king Drupada, called together his disciples and addressed them, 'Ye sinless ones, it behoveth you, after you have been accomplished in arms, to give me as preceptorial fee something that I cherish in my heart.' Then Arjuna and others said unto their preceptor, 'So be it.'-- After a time when the Pandavas became skilled in arms and sure aims, demanding of them his fee, he again told them these words, 'Drupada, the son of Prishata, is the king of Chhatravati. Take away from him his kingdom, and give it unto me.' Then the Pandavas, defeating Drupada in battle and taking him prisoner along with his ministers, offered him unto Drona, who beholding the vanquished monarch, said, 'O king, I again solicit thy friendship; and because none who is not a king deserveth to be the friend of a king, therefore, O Yajnasena, I am resolved to divide thy kingdom amongst ourselves. While thou art the king of the country to the south of Bhagirathi (Ganga), I will rule the country to the north.'" "'The Brahmana continued, "The king of the Panchalas, thus addressed by the wise son of Bharadwaja, told that best of Brahmanas and foremost of all persons conversant with weapons, these words, 'O high-souled son of Bharadwaja, blest be thou, let it be so, let there be eternal friendship between us as thou desirest!' Thus addressing each other and establishing a permanent bond between themselves, Drona and the king of Panchala, both of them chastisers of foes, went away to the places they came from. But the thought of that humiliation did not leave the king's mind for a single moment. Sad at heart, the king began to waste away."'" SECTION CLXIX (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Brahmana continued, "King Drupada (after this), distressed at heart, wandered among many asylums of Brahmanas in search of superior Brahmanas well-skilled in sacrificial rites. Overwhelmed with grief and eagerly yearning for children, the king always said, 'Oh, I have no offspring surpassing all in accomplishments.' And the monarch, from great despondency, always said 'Oh, fie on those children that I have and on my relatives!' And ever thinking of revenging himself on Drona, the monarch sighed incessantly. And that best of kings, O Bharata, even after much deliberation, saw no way of overcoming, by his Kshatriya might, the prowess and discipline and training and accomplishment of Drona. Wandering along the banks of the Yamuna and the Ganga, the monarch once came upon a sacred asylum of Brahmanas. There was in that asylum no Brahmana who was not a Snataka, no one who was not of rigid vows, and none who was not virtuous to a high degree. And the king saw there two Brahmana sages named Yaja and Upayaja, both of rigid vows and souls under complete control and belonging to the most superior order. They were both devoted to the study of the ancient institutes and sprung from the race of Kasyapa. And those best of Brahmanas were well able to help the king in the attainment of his object. The king then, with great assiduity and singleness of purpose, began to court this pair of excellent Brahmanas. Ascertaining the superior accomplishments of the younger of the two the king courted in private Upayaja of rigid vows, by the offer of every desirable acquisition. Employed in paying homage to the feet of Upayaja, always addressing in sweet words and offering him every object of human desire, Drupada, after worshipping that Brahmana, addressed him (one day), saying, 'O Upayaja, O Brahmana, if thou, performest those sacrificial rites by (virtue of) which I may obtain a son who may slay Drona, I promise thee ten thousand kine, or whatever else may be agreeable to thee, O first of Brahmanas, truly am I ready to make gifts to thee.' Thus addressed by the king, the Rishi replied, saying, 'I cannot (perform such rites).' But Drupada without accepting this reply as final, once more began to serve and pay homage unto that Brahmana. Then, after the expiration of a year, Upayaja, that first of Brahmanas, O monarch, addressing Drupada in sweet tone, said, 'My elder brother (Yaja), one day, while wandering through the deep woods, took up a fruit that had fallen upon a spot the purity of which he cared not to enquire about. I was following him (at the time) and observed this unworthy act of his. Indeed, he entertains no scruples in accepting things impure. In accepting that (particular) fruit he saw not any impropriety of sinful nature: Indeed, he who observeth not purity (in one instance) is not very likely to observe it in the other instances. When he lived in the house of his preceptor, employed in studying the institutes, he always used to eat (impure) remnants of other people's feasts. He always speaks approvingly of food and entertains no dislike for anything. Arguing from these, I believe that my brother covets earthy acquisitions. Therefore, O king, go unto him; he will perform spiritual offices for thee.' Hearing these words of Upayaja, king Drupada, though entertaining a low opinion of Yaja, nevertheless went to his abode. Worshipping Yaja who was (still) worthy of homage, Drupada said unto him, 'O master, perform thou spiritual offices for me and I will give thee eighty thousand kine! Enmity with Drona burneth my heart; it behoveth thee therefore to cool that heart of mine. Foremost of those conversant with the Vedas, Drona is also skilled in the Brahma weapon and for this, Drona hath overcome me in a contest arising from (impaired) friendship. Gifted with great intelligence, the son of Bharadwaja is (now) the chief preceptor of the Kurus. There is no Kshatriya in this world superior to him. His bow is full six cubits long and looks formidable, and his shafts are capable of slaying every living being. That great bowman, the high-souled son of Bharadwaja, habited as a Brahmana, is destroying the Kshatriya power all over the earth. Indeed, he is like a second Jamadagnya intended for the extermination of the Kshatriya race. There is no man on earth who can overcome the terrible force of his weapons. Like a blazing fire fed with clarified butter, Drona, possessed of Brahma might and uniting it with Kshatriya might, consumeth every antagonist in battle. But (thy) Brahma force is greater in itself than (Drona's) Brahma force united with Kshatriya might. Therefore, as I am inferior (to Drona) in consequence of my possession of Kshatriya might alone, I solicit the aid of thy Brahma force, having obtained thee so superior to Drona in knowledge of Brahma. O Yaja, perform that sacrifice by means of which I may obtain a son invincible in battle and capable of slaying Drona. Ready am I to give thee ten thousand kine.' Hearing these words of Drupada, Yaja said, 'So be it.' Yaja then began to recollect the various ceremonies appertaining to the particular sacrifice. And knowing the affair to be a very grave one, he asked the assistance of Upayaja who coveted nothing. Then Yaja promised to perform the sacrifice for the destruction of Drona. Then the great ascetic Upayaja spoke unto king Drupada of everything required for the grand sacrifice (by aid of fire) from which the king was to obtain offspring. And he said, 'O king, a child shall be born unto thee, endued, as thou desirest, with great prowess, great energy, and great strength.'" "'The Brahmana continued, "Then king Drupada, impelled by the desire of obtaining a son who was to slay Drona, began, for the success of his wish, to make the necessary preparations. (And when everything was complete) Yaja, after having poured libations of clarified butter on the sacrificial fire, commanded Drupada's queen, saying, 'Come hither, O queen, O daughter- in-law of Prishata! A son and a daughter have arrived for thee!' Hearing this, the queen said, 'O Brahmana, my mouth is yet filled with saffron and other perfumed things. My body also beareth many sweet scents; I am hardly fit for accepting (the sanctified butter which is to give me offspring). Wait for me a little, O Yaja! Wait for that happy consummation.' Yaja, however, replied, 'O lady, whether thou comest or waitest, why should not the object of this sacrifice be accomplished when the oblation hath already been prepared by me and sanctified by Upayaja's invocations?'" "'The Brahmana continued, "Having said this, Yaja poured the sanctified libation on the fire, whereupon arose from those flames a child resembling a celestial who possessing the effulgence of fire, was terrible to behold. With a crown on this head and his body encased in excellent armour, sword in hand, and bearing a bow and arrows, he frequently sent forth loud roars. And immediately after his birth, he ascended an excellent chariot and went about in it for some time. Then the Panchalas in great joy shouted, 'Excellent, Excellent.' The very earth seemed at that time unable to bear the weight of the Panchalas mad with joy. Then, marvellous to say, the voice of some invisible spirit in the skies said, 'This prince hath been born for the destruction of Drona. He shall dispel all the fears of the Panchalas and spread their fame. He shall also remove the sorrow of the king.' And there arose, after this from the centre of the sacrificial platform, a daughter also, called Panchali, who, blest with great good fortune, was exceedingly handsome. Her eyes were black, and large as lotus- petals, her complexion was dark, and her locks were blue and curly. Her nails were beautifully convex, and bright as burnished copper; her eye- brows were fair, and bosom was deep. Indeed, she resembled the veritable daughter of a celestial born among men. Her body gave out fragrance like that of a blue lotus, perceivable from a distance of full two miles. Her beauty was such that she had no equal on earth. Like a celestial herself, she could be desired (in marriage) by a celestial, a Danava, or a Yaksha. When this girl of fair hips was born an incorporeal voice said, 'This dark- complexioned girl will be the first of all women, and she will be the cause of the destruction of many Kshatriyas. This slender-waisted one will, in time, accomplish the purpose of the gods, and along with her many a danger will overtake the Kauravas.' On hearing these words, the Panchalas uttered a loud leonine roar, and the earth was unable to bear the weight of that joyous concourse. Then beholding the boy and the girl, the daughter-in-law of Prishata, desiring to have them, approached Yaja and said, 'Let not these know any one else except myself as their mother.' Yaja, desiring to do good unto the king said, 'So be it!' Then the Brahmanas (present there), their expectations fully gratified, bestowed names upon the new-born pair, 'Let this son of king Drupada, they said, be called Dhrishtadyumna, because of his excessive audacity and because of his being born like Dyumna with a natural mail and weapon.' And they also said, 'Because this daughter is so dark in complexion, she should be called Krishna (the dark).'" "'The Brahmana continued, "Thus were born those twins of the great sacrifice of Drupada. And the great Drona, bringing the Panchala prince into his own abode, taught him all weapons in requital of half the kingdom he had formerly taken from Drupada. The high-souled son of Bharadwaja, regarding destiny to be inevitable, did what would perpetuate his own great deeds."'" SECTION CLXX (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of the Brahmana, the sons of Kunti seemed to be, as it were, pierced with darts. Indeed, all those mighty heroes lost their peace of mind. Then the truthful Kunti, beholding all her sons listless and inattentive, addressed Yudhishthira and said, "We have now lived many nights in the abode of this Brahmana. We have passed our time pleasantly in this town, living on the alms obtained from many honest and illustrious persons. O oppressor of foes, as we have now seen often and often all the agreeable woods and gardens that are in this part of the country, seeing them again would no longer give any pleasure. O heroic scion of Kuru's race, alms also are not now obtainable here as easily as before. If thou wishest it would be well for us now to go to Panchala; we have not seen that country, it will, no doubt, O hero, prove delightful to us. O crusher of foes, it hath been heard by us that alms are obtainable in the country of the Panchala, and that Yajnasena, the king thereof, is devoted to Brahmanas. I am of opinion that it is not good to live long in one place. Therefore, O son, if thou likest, it is good for us to go there." "'Hearing these words, Yudhishthira said, "It is our duty to obey thy command, which, besides, must be for our good. I do not, however, know whether my younger brothers are willing to go."'" SECTION CLXXI (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Kunti spoke unto Bhimasena and Arjuna and the twins regarding the journey to Panchala. They all said, "So be it." Then, O king, Kunti with her sons saluted the Brahmana (in whose house they had dwelt) and set out for the delightful town of the illustrious Drupada. "Vaisampayana said, 'While the illustrious Pandavas were living disguised in the abode of the Brahmana, Vyasa, the son of Satyavati, once went to see them. Those chastisers of foes, beholding him coming rose up and stepped onward to receive him. Saluting him reverentially and worshipping him also the Pandavas stood in silence with joined hands. Thus worshipped by them the sage became gratified. He asked them to be seated, and cheerfully addressing them said, "Ye slayers of foes, are ye living in the path of virtue and according to the scriptures? Do ye worship the Brahmanas? Ye are not, I hope, backward in paying homage unto those that deserve your homage?" The illustrious Rishi, after this, spoke many words of virtuous import, and after discoursing upon many topics of great interest, he said, "An illustrious Rishi, living in a certain hermitage, had a daughter of tender waist, fair lips, and fine eye-brows, and possessing every accomplishment. As a consequence of her own acts (in a past life) the fair maid became very unfortunate. Though chaste and beautiful, the damsel obtained not a husband. With a sorrowful heart she thereupon began to practise ascetic penances with the object of obtaining a husband. She soon gratified by her severe the god Sankara (Mahadeva), who became propitious unto her and said unto that illustrious damsel, 'Ask thou the boon thou desirest! Blest be thou! I am Sankara prepared to give thee what thou wilt ask.' Desirous of benefiting herself, the maid repeatedly said unto the supreme lord, 'O give me, a husband endued with every accomplishment.' Then Isana (Mahadeva), that foremost of all speakers, replied unto her, saying, 'O blessed one, thou shall have five husbands from among the Bharata princes.' Thus told, the maiden said unto the god who had given her that boon, 'O lord, I desire to have only one husband through thy grace.' The god then addressed her again and said these excellent words, 'Thou hast, O girl, said full five times, "Give me (a) husband." Thou shalt, therefore, in another life have five husbands!' Ye princes of Bharata's line, that damsel of celestial beauty hath been born in the line of Drupada. The faultless Krishna of Prishata's line hath been appointed to be the wife of you all. Ye mighty ones, go therefore, to the capital of the Panchalas and dwell ye there. There is no doubt that having obtained her as wife ye shall be very happy."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having said so unto the Pandavas, the illustrious and blessed grandsire then bade them farewell. The great ascetic then left them and went to the place whence he had come.'" SECTION CLXXII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After Vyasa had gone away, those bulls among men, the Pandavas, saluted the Brahmana and bade him farewell, and proceeded (towards Panchala) with joyous hearts and with their mother walking before them. Those slayers of all foes, in order to reach their destination, proceeded in a due northerly direction, walking day and night till they reached a sacred shrine of Siva with the crescent mark on his brow. Then those tigers among men, the sons of Pandu, arrived at the banks of the Ganga, Dhananjaya, that mighty car-warrior, walking before them, torch in hand, for showing the way and guarding them (against wild animals). And it so happened that at that time the proud king of the Gandharvas, with his wives, was sporting in that solitary region in the delightful waters of the Ganga. The king of the Gandharvas heard the tread of the Pandavas as they approached the river. On hearing the sounds of their foot-steps, the mighty Gandharvas were inflamed with wrath, and beholding those chastisers of foes, the Pandavas, approach towards him with their mother, he drew his frightful bow to a circle and said, "It is known that excepting the first forty seconds the grey twilight preceding nightfall hath been appointed for the wandering of the Yakshas, the Gandharvas and the Rakshasas, all of whom are capable of going everywhere at will. The rest of the time hath been appointed for man to do his work. If therefore, men, wandering during those moments from greed of gain, come near us, both we and the Rakshasas slay those fools. Therefore, persons acquainted with the Vedas never applaud those men--not even kings at the head of their troops--who approach any pools of water at such a time. Stay ye at a distance, and approach me not. Know ye not that I am bathing in the waters of the Bhagirathi? Know that I am Angaraparna the Gandharva, ever relying on my own strength! I am proud and haughty and am the friend of Kuvera. This my forest on the banks of the Ganga, where I sport to gratify all my senses, is called Angaraparna after my own name. Here neither gods, nor Kapalikas, nor Gandharvas nor Yakshas, can come. How dare ye approach me who am the brightest jewel on the diadem of Kuvera?" "'Hearing these words of the Gandharva, Arjuna said, "Blockhead, whether it be day, night, or twilight, who can bar others from the ocean, the sides of the Himalayas, and this river? O ranger of the skies, whether the stomach be empty or full, whether it is night or day, there is no special time for anybody to come to the Ganga--that foremost of all rivers. As regards ourselves endued with might, we care not when we disturb thee. Wicked being, those who are weak in fighting worship thee. This Ganga, issuing out of the golden peaks of Himavat, falleth into the waters of the ocean, being distributed into seven streams. They who drink the waters of these seven streams, viz., Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati, Vitashtha, Sarayu, Gomati, and Gandaki, are cleansed of all their sins. O Gandharva, this sacred Ganga again, flowing through the celestial region is called there the Alakananda. It hath again in the region of the Pitris become the Vaitarani, difficult of being crossed by sinners, and, Krishna-Dwaipayana himself hath said so. The auspicious and celestial river, capable of leading to heaven (them that touch its waters), is free from all dangers. Why dost thou then desire to bar us from it? This act of thine is not in consonance with eternal virtue. Disregarding thy words, why shall we not touch the sacred waters of the Bhagirathi free from all dangers and from which none can bar us?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Arjuna, Angaraparna became inflamed with wrath and drawing his bow to a circle began to shoot his arrows like venomous snakes at the Pandavas. Then Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu, wielding a good shield and the torch he held in his hand, warded off all those arrows and addressing the Gandharva again said, "O Gandharva, seek not to terrify those that are skilled in weapons, for weapons hurled at them vanish like froth. I think, O Gandharva, that ye are superior (in prowess) to men; therefore shall I fight with thee, using celestial weapons and not with any crooked means. This fiery weapon (that I shall hurl at thee), Vrihaspati the revered preceptor of Indra, gave unto Bharadwaja, from whom it was obtained by Agnivesya, and from Agnivesya by my preceptor, that foremost of Brahmanas, Drona, who gave it away to me."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Saying these words, the Pandava wrathfully hurled at the Gandharva that blazing weapon made of fire which burnt the Gandharva's chariot in a trice. Deprived of consciousness by the force of that weapon, the mighty Gandharva was falling, head downward, from his chariot. Dhananjaya seized him by the hair of his head adorned with garlands of flowers and thus dragged the unconscious Gandharva towards his brothers. Beholding this, that Gandharva's wife Kumbhinasi, desirous of saving her husband, ran towards Yudhishthira and sought his protection. The Gandharvi said, "O exalted one, extend to me thy protection! O, set my husband free! O lord, I am Kumbhinasi by name, the wife of this Gandharva, who seeketh thy protection!" Beholding her (so afflicted), the mighty Yudhishthira addressed Arjuna and said, "O slayer of foes, O child, who would slay a foe who hath been vanquished in fight, who hath been deprived of fame, who is protected by a woman, and who hath no prowess?" Arjuna replied, saying, "Keep thou thy life, O Gandharva! Go hence, and grieve not I. Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, commandeth me to show thee mercy." "'The Gandharva replied, "I have been vanquished by thee. I shall, therefore, abandon my former name Angaraparna (the blazing vehicle). In name alone, O friend, I should not be boastful when my pride in my strength hath been overcome: I have been fortunate in that I have obtained thee, O Arjuna, that wielder of celestial weapons! I like to impart to thee the power of (producing) illusions which Gandharvas alone have. My excellent and variegated chariot hath been burnt by means of thy fiery weapon. I who had formerly been called after my excellent chariot should now be called after my burnt chariot. The science of producing illusions that I have spoken of was formerly obtained by me by ascetic penances. That science I will today impart to the giver of my life--thy illustrious self! What good luck doth he not deserve who, after overcoming a foe by his might, giveth him life when that foe asketh for it? This science is called Chakshushi. It was communicated by Manu unto Soma and by Soma unto Viswavasu, and lastly by Viswavasu unto me. Communicated by my preceptor, that science, having come unto me who am without energy, is gradually becoming fruitless. I have spoken to thee about its origin and transmission. Listen now to its power! One may see (by its aid) whatever one wisheth to see, and in whatever way he liketh (generally or particularly). One can acquire this science only after standing on one leg for six months. I shall however, communicate to thee this science without thyself being obliged to observe any rigid vow. O king, it is for this knowledge that we are superior to men. And as we are capable of seeing everything by spiritual sight, we are equal to the gods. O best of men, I intend to give thee and each of thy brothers a hundred steeds born in the country of the Gandharvas. Of celestial colour and endued with the speed of the mind, those horses are employed in bearing the celestial, and the Gandharvas. They may be lean-fleshed but they tire not, nor doth their speed suffer on that account. In days of yore the thunderbolt was created for the chief of the celestials in order that he might slay (the Asura) Vritra with it. But hurled at Vritra's head it broke in a thousand pieces. The celestials worship with reverence those fragments of the thunderbolt. That which is known in the three worlds as glory is but a portion of the thunderbolt. The hand of the Brahmana with which he poureth libations on the sacrificial fire, the chariot upon which the Kshatriya fighteth, the charity of the Vaisya, and the service of the Sudra rendered unto the three other classes, are all fragments of the thunderbolt. It hath been said that horses, forming as they do a portion of the Kshatriya's chariot, are, on that account, unslayable. Again horses which form a portion of the Kshatriya's chariot, are the offspring of Vadava. Those amongst them that are born in the region of the Gandharvas can go everywhere and assume any hue and speed at the will of their owners. These horses of mine that I give thee will always gratify thy wishes." "'On hearing these words of the Gandharva, Arjuna said, "O Gandharva, if from satisfaction for having obtained thy life at my hands in a situation of danger, thou givest me thy science, and these horses, I would not accept thy gift." The Gandharva replied, saying, "A meeting with an illustrious person is ever a source of gratification; besides thou hast given me my life. Gratified with thee, I will give thee my science. That the obligation, however, may not all be on one side, I will take from thee, O Vibhatsu, O bull in Bharata's race, thy excellent and eternal weapon of fire!" "'Arjuna said, "I would accept thy horses in exchange for my weapon. Let our friendship last for ever. O friend, tell us for what we human beings have to stand in fear of the Gandharvas. Chastisers of foes that we are and virtuous and conversant with the Vedas, tell us, O Gandharva, why in travelling in the night-time we have been censured by thee." "'The Gandharva said, "Ye are without wives (though ye have completed the period of study). Ye are without a particular Asrama (mode of life). Lastly, ye are out without a Brahmana walking before, therefore, ye sons of Pandu, ye have been censured by me. The Yakshas, Rakshasas, Gandharvas, Pisachas, Uragas and Danavas, are possessed of wisdom and intelligence, and acquainted with the history of the Kuru race. O hero, I have heard too from Narada and other celestial Rishis about the good deeds of your wise ancestors. I myself, too, while roaming over the whole earth bounded by her belt of seas, have witnessed the prowess of thy great race. O Arjuna, I have personal knowledge of thy preceptor, the illustrious son of Bharadwaja, celebrated throughout the three worlds for his knowledge of the Vedas and the science of arms. O tiger in Kuru's race, O son of Pritha, I also know Dharma, Vayu, Sakra, the twin Aswins, and Pandu,--these six perpetuators of Kuru race,--these excellent celestials and human progenitors of you all. I also know that you five brothers are learned and high-souled, that ye are foremost of all wielders of weapons, that ye are brave and virtuous and observant of vows. Knowing that your understanding and hearts are excellent and your behaviour faultless, I have yet censured you. For, O thou of Kuru's race, it behoveth no man endued with might of arms to bear with patience any ill usage in the sight of his wife. Especially as, O son of Kunti, our might increaseth during the hours of darkness, accompanied by my wife I was filled with wrath. O best of vow- observing men, I have, however, been vanquished by thee in battle. Listen to me as I tell thee the reasons that have led to my discomfiture. The Brahmacharya is a very superior mode of life, and as thou art in that mode now, it is for this, O Partha, that I have been defeated by thee in battle. O chastiser of foes, if any married Kshatriya fight with us at night, he can never escape, with life. But, O Partha, a married Kshatriya, who is sanctified with Brahma, and who hath assigned the cares of his State to a priest, might vanquish all wanderers in the night. O child of Tapati, men should therefore, ever employ learned priests possessing self-command for the acquisition of every good luck they desire. That Brahmana is worthy of being the king's priest who is learned in the Vedas and the six branches thereof, who is pure and truthful, who is of virtuous soul and possessed of self-command. The monarch becometh ever victorious and finally earneth heaven who hath for his priest a Brahmana conversant with the rules of morality, who is a master of words, and is pure and of good behaviour. The king should always select an accomplished priest in order to acquire what he hath not and protect what he hath. He who desireth his own prosperity should ever be guided by his priest, for he may then obtain ever the whole earth surrounded by her belt of seas. O son of Tapati, a king, who is without a Brahmana, can never acquire any land by his bravery or glory of birth alone. Know, therefore, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, that the kingdom lasteth for ever in which Brahmanas have power."'" SECTION CLXXIII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'Arjuna said, "Thou hast addressed me (more than once) as Tapatya. I therefore wish to know what the precise significance of this word is, O virtuous Gandharva, being sons of Kunti, we are, indeed, Kaunteyas. But who is Tapati that we should be called Tapatyas?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, the Gandharva related to Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, the (following) story well-known in the three worlds. "'The Gandharva said, "O son of Pritha, O foremost of all intelligent men, I will duly recite to you in full this charming narrative. O, listen with attention to what I say in explanation of why I have addressed thee as Tapatya. That one in heaven who pervadeth by his light the whole firmament had a daughter named Tapati equal unto himself. Tapati, the daughter of the god Vivaswat, was the younger sister of Savitri, and she was celebrated throughout the three worlds and devoted to ascetic penances. There was no woman amongst the celestials, the Asuras, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, the Apsaras, and the Gandharvas, who was equal to her in beauty. Of perfect and faultless features, of black and large eyes, and in beautiful attire, the girl was chaste and of perfect conduct. And, O Bharata, seeing her Savitri (the sun) thought that there was none in the three worlds who, for his beauty, accomplishments, behaviour, and learning, deserved to be her husband. Beholding her attain the age of puberty and, therefore, worthy of being bestowed on a husband, her father knew no peace of mind, always thinking of the person he should select. At that time, O son of Kunti, Riksha's son, that bull amongst the Kurus, the mighty king Samvarana, was duly worshipping Surya with offerings of Arghya and flower- garlands and scents, and with vows and fasts and ascetic penances of various kinds. Indeed, Samvarana was worshipping Surya constantly in all his glory, with devotion and humility and piety. And beholding Samvarana conversant with all rules of virtue and unequalled on earth for beauty, Surya regarded him as the fit husband for his daughter, Tapati. And, O thou of Kuru's race, Vivaswat then resolved to bestow his daughter on that best of kings, viz., Samvarana, the scion of a race of world-wide fame. As Surya himself in the heavens filleth the firmament with his splendour, so did king Samvarana on earth fill every region with the splendour of his good achievements. And all men, O Partha, except Brahmanas, worshipped Samvarana. Blest with good luck, king Samvarana excelled Soma in soothing the hearts of friends and Surya in scorching the hearts of foes. And, O Kaurava, Tapana (Surya) himself was resolved upon bestowing his daughter Tapati upon king Samvarana, who was possessed of such virtues and accomplishments. "'"Once on a time, O Partha, king Samvarana, endued with beauty (of person) and immeasurable prowess, went on a hunting expedition to the under-woods on the mountain-breast. While wandering in quest of deer, the excellent steed the king rode, overcome, O Partha, with hunger, thirst and fatigue, died on the mountains. Abandoning the steed, the king, O Arjuna, began to wander about upon the mountain-breast on foot and in course of his wandering the monarch saw a maiden of large eyes and unrivalled beauty. That grinder of hostile host--that tiger among kings--himself without a companion, beholding there that maiden without a companion, stood motionless gazing at her steadfastly. For her beauty, the monarch for some moment believed her to be (the goddess) Sri herself. Next he regarded her to be the embodiment of the rays emanating from Surya. In splendour of her person she resembled a flame of fire, though in benignity and loveliness she resembled a spotless digit of the moon. And standing on the mountain- breast, the black-eyed maiden appeared like a bright statue of gold. The mountain itself with its creepers and plants, because of the beauty and attire of that damsel, seemed to be converted into gold. The sight of that maiden inspired the monarch with a contempt for all women that he had seen before. By beholding her, the king regarded his eye-sight truly blessed. Nothing the king had seen from the day of his birth could equal, he thought, the beauty of that girl. The king's heart and eyes were captivated by that damsel, as if they were bound with a cord and he remained rooted to that spot, deprived of his senses. The monarch thought that the artificer of so much beauty had created it only after churning the whole world of gods, Asuras, and human beings. Entertaining these various thoughts, king Samvarana regarded that maiden as unrivalled in the three worlds for wealth of beauty. "'"And the monarch of pure descent, beholding the beautiful maiden, was pierced with Kama's (Cupid's) shafts and lost his peace of mind. Burnt with the strong flame of desire the king asked that charming maiden, still innocent, though in her full youth, saying, 'Who art thou and whose? Why also dost thou stay here? O thou of sweet smiles, why dost thou wander alone in these solitary woods? Of every feature perfectly faultless, and decked with every ornament, thou seemest to be the coveted ornament of these ornaments themselves! Thou seemest not to be of celestial or Asura or Yaksha or Rakshasa or Naga or Gandharva or human origin. O excellent lady, the best of women that I have ever seen or heard of would not compare with thee in beauty! O thou of handsome face, at sight of thee lovelier than the moon and graced with eyes like lotus-petals, the god of desire is grinding me.' "'"King Samvarana thus addressed that damsel in the forest, who however, spoke not a word unto the monarch burning with desire. Instead, like lightning in the clouds, that large-eyed maiden quickly disappeared in the very sight of the monarch. The king then wandered through the whole forest, like one out of his senses, in search of that girl of eyes like lotus- petals. Failing to find her, that best of monarchs indulged in copious lamentations and for a time stood motionless with grief."'" SECTION CLXXIV (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva continued, "When that maiden disappeared, that feller of hostile ranks deprived of his senses by Kama (concupiscence) himself fell down on the earth. And as the monarch fell down, that maiden of sweet smiles and prominent and round hips appeared again before him, and smiling sweetly, said unto that perpetuator of Kuru's race these honeyed words, 'Rise, rise, O chastiser of foes! Blest be thou; it behoveth thee not, O tiger among kings, to lose thy reason, a celebrated man as thou art in the world.' Addressed in these honeyed words, the king opened his eyes and saw before him that selfsame girl of swelling hips. The monarch who was burning with the flame of desire then addressed that black-eyed damsel in accents, weak with emotion, and said, 'Blest be thou O excellent woman of black eyes! As I am burning with desire and paying thee court, O, accept me! My life is ebbing away. O thou of large eyes, for thy sake it is, O thou of the splendour of the filaments of the lotus, that Kama is incessantly piercing me with his keen shafts without stopping for a moment! O amiable and cheerful girl, I have been bitten by Kama who is even like a venomous viper. O thou of swelling and large hips, have mercy on me! O thou of handsome and faultless features, O thou of face like unto the lotus-petal or the moon, O thou of voice sweet as that of singing Kinnaras, my life now depends on thee! Without thee, O timid one, I am unable to live! O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, Kama is piercing me incessantly! O large-eyed girl, be merciful unto me! It becometh thee not, O black-eyed maid, to cast me off; O handsome girl, it behoveth thee to relieve me from such affliction by giving me thy love! At first sight thou hast attracted my heart. My mind wandereth! Beholding thee I like not to cast my eyes on any other woman! Be merciful! I am thy obedient slave--thy adorer! O, accept me! O beautiful lady, O large-eyed girl at the sight of thee, the god of desire hath entered my heart, and is piercing me with his shafts! O thou of lotus-eyes, the flame of desire burneth within me! O, extinguish that flame with the water of thy love poured on it! O beautiful lady, by becoming mine, pacify thou the irrepressible god of desire that hath appeared here armed with his deadly bow and arrows and that is piercing me incessantly with those keen shafts of his! O thou of the fairest complexion, wed me according to the Gandharva form, for, O thou of tapering hips, of all forms of marriage the Gandharva hath been said to be the best.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Hearing those words of the monarch, Tapati made answer, 'O king, I am not the mistress of my own self! Be it known that I am a maiden under the control of my father. If thou really entertainest an affection for me, demand me of my father. Thou sayest, O king, that thy heart hath been robbed by me. But thou also hast, at first sight, robbed me of my heart; I am not the mistress of my body, and therefore, O best of kings, I do not approach thee; women are never independent. What girl is there in the three worlds that would not desire thee for her husband, as thou art kind unto all thy dependents and as thou art born in a pure race? Therefore, when the opportunity comes, ask my father Aditya for my hand with worship, ascetic penances, and vows. If my father bestoweth me upon thee, then, O king, I shall ever be thy obedient wife. My name is Tapati and I am the younger sister of Savitri, and the daughter, O bull amongst Kshatriyas of Savitri, of (Sun) the illuminator of the universe."'" SECTION CLXXV (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva continued, "Saying this, Tapati of faultless features, ascended the skies. The monarch thereupon again fell down on the earth. His ministers and followers searching for him throughout the forest at length came upon him lying on that solitary spot, and beholding that excellent king, that mighty bowman, thus lying forsaken on the ground like a rainbow dropped from the firmament, his minister-in-chief became like one burnt by a flame of fire. Advancing hastily with affection and respect, the minister raised that best of monarchs lying prostrate on the ground and deprived of his senses by desire. Old in wisdom as in age, old in achievements as in policy, the minister, after having raised the prostrate monarch, became easy (in mind). Addressing the king in sweet words that were also for his good, he said, 'Blest be thou, O sinless one! Fear not, O tiger among kings!' The minister thought that the monarch, that great feller of hostile ranks in battle, had been lying on the ground overcome with hunger, thirst, and fatigue. The old man then sprinkled over the crownless head of the monarch water that was cold and rendered fragrant with lotus-petals. Slowly regaining his consciousness, the mighty monarch sent away all his attendants with the exception of his minister only. After those attendants had retired at his command, the king sat upon the mountain-breast. Having purified himself duly, the king sat upon that chief of mountains, and began, with joined palms and upturned face, to worship Surya. King Samvarana, that smiter of all foes, thought also of his chief priest Vasishtha, that best of Rishis. The king continued to sit there day and night without intermission. The Brahmana sage Vasishtha came there on the twelfth day: that great Rishi of soul under perfect command knew at once by his ascetic power that the monarch had lost his senses in consequence of Tapati. And that virtuous and best of Munis, as soon as he knew this, desirous of benefiting the monarch who was ever observant of vows, addressed him and gave him every assurance. The illustrious Rishi, in the very sight of that monarch, ascended upward to interview Surya, himself possessed of the splendour of that luminary. The Brahmana then approached with joined hands the god of a thousand rays and introduced himself cheerfully unto him, saying, 'I am Vasishtha.' Then Vivaswat of great energy said unto that best of Rishis, 'Welcome art thou, O great Rishi! Tell me what is in thy mind. O thou of great good fortune, whatever thou demandest of me, O foremost of eloquent men, I will confer on thee, however difficult it may be for me!' Thus addressed by Surya, the Rishi of great ascetic merit, bowing unto the god of light, replied, saying, 'O Vibhavasu, this thy daughter, Tapati, the younger sister of Savitri, I ask of thee for Samvarana! That monarch is of mighty achievements, conversant with virtue, and of high soul. O firmament-ranger, Samvarana will make a worthy husband for thy daughter.' Thus addressed by the Rishi Vibhakara, resolved upon bestowing his daughter upon Samvarana, saluted the Rishi, and replied unto him, saying, 'Oh, Samvarana is the best of monarchs, thou art the best of Rishis, Tapati is the best of women. What should we do, therefore, but bestow her on Samvarana?' With these words, the god Tapana, made over his daughter, Tapati, of every feature perfectly faultless, unto the illustrious Vasishtha to bestow her upon Samvarana. And the great Rishi then accepted the girl, Tapati, and taking leave of Surya, came back to the spot, where that bull amongst the Kurus, of celestial achievements, was. King Samvarana, possessed by love and with his heart fixed on Tapati, beholding that celestial maiden of sweet smiles led by Vasishtha, became exceedingly glad. And Tapati of fair eyebrows came down from the firmament like lightning from the clouds, dazzling the ten points of the heavens. And the illustrious Rishi Vasishtha of pure soul approached the monarch after the latter's twelve nights' vow was over. It was thus that king Samvarana obtained a wife after having worshipped with ascetic penances the propitious lord Vivaswat, by the help of Vasishtha's (ascetic power). And Samvarana, that bull among men with due rites took Tapati's hand on that mountain-breast which was resorted to by the celestials and the Gandharvas. The royal sage, with the permission of Vasishtha, desired to sport with his wife on that mountain. And the king caused Vasishtha to be proclaimed his regent in his capital and kingdom, in the woods and gardens. And bidding farewell unto the monarch, Vasishtha left him and went away. Samvarana, who sported on that mountain like a celestial, sported with his wife in the woods and the under-woods on that mountain for twelve full years. And, O best of the Bharatas, the god of a thousand eyes poured no rain for twelve years on the capital and on the kingdom of that monarch. Then, O chastiser of enemies, when that season of drought broke out, the people of that kingdom, as also the trees and lower animals began to die fast. And during the continuance of that dreadful drought, not even a drop of dew fell from the skies and no corn grew. And the inhabitants in despair, and afflicted with the fear of hunger, left their homes and fled away in all directions. And the famished people of the capital and the country began to abandon their wives and children and grew reckless of one another. The people being afflicted with hunger, without a morsel of food and reduced to skeletons, the capital looked very much like the city of the king of the dead, full of only ghostly beings. On beholding the capital reduced to such a state, the illustrious and virtuous and best of Rishis, Vasishtha was resolved upon applying a remedy and brought back unto the city that tiger among kings, Samvarana, along with his wife, after the latter had passed so long a period in solitude and seclusion. After the king had entered his capital, things became as before, for, when that tiger among kings came back to his own, the god of a thousand eyes, the slayer of Asuras, poured rain in abundance and caused corn to grow. Revivified by the foremost of virtuous souls the capital and the country became animated with extreme joy. The monarch, with his wife, Tapati, once more performed sacrifices for twelve years, like the lord Indra (god of rain) performing sacrifices with his wife, Sachi." "'The Gandharva continued, "This, O Partha, is the history of Tapati of old, the daughter of Vivaswat. It is for her that thou art (called) Tapatya. King Samvarana begot upon Tapati a son named Kuru, who was the foremost of ascetics. Born in the race of Kuru, thou art, O Arjuna, to be called Tapatya."'" SECTION CLXXVI (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'That bull among the Bharatas, Arjuna, hearing these words of the Gandharva, was inspired with feelings of devotion, and stood comfortably like the full moon. And that mighty bowman, that foremost one in Kuru's race having his curiosity greatly excited by what he heard of Vasishtha's ascetic power, asked the Gandharva, saying, "I desire to hear of the Rishi whom thou hast mentioned as Vasishtha. O, tell me in full about him! O chief of the Gandharvas, tell me who this illustrious Rishi was that was the priest of our forefathers." The Gandharva replied, "Vasishtha is Brahma's spiritual (lit, mind-born) son and Arundhati's husband. Ever difficult of being conquered by the very immortals, Desire and Wrath, conquered by Vasishtha's ascetic penances, used to shampoo his feet. Though his wrath was excited by Viswamitra's offence, that high-souled Rishi did not yet exterminate Kusikas (the tribe whose king Viswamitra was). Afflicted at the loss of his sons, he did not, as though powerless, though really otherwise, do any dreadful act destructive of Viswamitra. Like the ocean transgressing not its continents, Vasishtha transgressed not (the laws of) Yama by bringing back his children from the domains of the king of the dead. It was by obtaining that illustrious one who had conquered his own self that Ikshvaku and other great monarchs acquired the whole earth. And, O prince of Kuru's race, it was by obtaining Vasishtha, that best of Rishis as their priest, that those monarchs performed many grand sacrifices. And, O best of the Pandavas, that regenerate Rishi assisted these monarchs in the performance of their sacrifices like Vrihaspati assisting the immortals. Therefore, look ye for some accomplished and desirable Brahmana conversant with the Vedas and in whose heart virtue prevails, to appoint as your priest. A Kshatriya of good lineage, desirous of extending his dominions by conquering the earth, should, O Partha, first appoint a priest. He who is desirous of conquering the earth should have a Brahmana before him. Therefore, O Arjuna, let some accomplished and learned Brahmana, who has his senses under complete control and who is conversant with religion, profit and pleasure, be your priest."'" SECTION CLXXVII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing this, Arjuna said, "O Gandharva, whence arose the hostility between Viswamitra and Vasishtha both of whom dwelt in a celestial hermitage? O, tell us all about it." "'The Gandharva replied, "O Partha, the story of Vasishtha is regarded as a Purana (legend) in all the three worlds. Listen to me as I recite it fully. There was, in Kanyakuvja, O bull of Bharata's race, a great king of worldwide fame named Gadhi, the son of Kusika. The virtuous Gadhi had a son named Viswamitra, that grinder of foes, possessing a large army and many animals and vehicles. And Viswamitra, accompanied by his ministers, used to roam in quest of deer through the deep woods and over picturesque marshes, killing deer and wild boars. Once on a time, while king Viswamitra went in quest of deer, the king became weak with exertion and thirst. The monarch arrived in that state at the asylum of Vasishtha, and the blessed and illustrious Rishi beholding him arrive, reverenced with his homage that best of men, king Viswamitra. And O Bharata, the Rishi saluted the monarch by offering him water to wash his face and feet with, and Arghya, and wild fruits, and clarified butter. For the illustrious Rishi had a cow yielding anything that was desired of her. When she was addressed, saying, 'O give', she always yielded the article that was sought. And she yielded various fruits and corn, wild or grown in gardens and fields, and milk, and many excellent nutritive viands full of six different kinds of juice (taste?) and like unto nectar itself, and various other kinds of enjoyable things, O Arjuna, of ambrosial taste for drinking and eating, and for licking and sucking, and also many precious gems and robes of various kinds. With these desirable objects in profusion the monarch was worshipped. And the king with his minister and troops became highly pleased. And the monarch wondered much, beholding that cow with six elevated limbs and the beautiful flanks and hips, and five limbs that were broad, and eyes prominent like those of the frog and beautiful in size, and high udders, and faultless make, and straight and uplifted ears, and handsome horns, and well-developed head and neck. "'"And, O prince, the son of Gadhi, gratified with everything and applauding the cow named Nandini, addressed the Rishi, saying, 'O Brahmana, O great Muni, give me thy Nandini in exchange for ten thousand kine, or my kingdom. Enjoy thou my kingdom (giving me thy cow).' "'"Hearing these words of Viswamitra, Vasishtha said, 'O sinless one, this cow hath been kept by me for the sake of the gods, guests, and the Pitris, as also for my sacrifices. I cannot give Nandini in exchange for even thy kingdom.' Viswamitra replied, 'I am a Kshatriya, but thou art a Brahmana devoted to asceticism and study. Is there any energy in Brahmanas who are peaceful and who have their souls under perfect command? When thou givest me not what I desire in exchange even for ten thousand cows, I will not abandon the practice of my order; I will take thy cow even by force!' "'"Vasishtha said, 'Thou art a Kshatriya endued with might of arms. Thou art a powerful monarch. O, do in haste what thou desirest; and stop not to consider its propriety.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Thus addressed by Vasishtha, Viswamitra, O Partha, then forcibly seized Nandini, that cow (white) like the swan or the moon, and attempted to take her away, afflicting her with stripes and persecuting her otherwise. The innocent Nandini then began, O Partha, to low piteously, and approaching the illustrious Vasishtha stood before him with uplifted face. Though persecuted very cruelly, she refused to leave the Rishi's asylum. "'"Beholding her in that plight, Vasishtha said, 'O amiable one, thou art lowing repeatedly and I am hearing thy cries. But, O Nandini, even Viswamitra is taking thee away by force, what can I do in this matter, as I am a forgiving Brahmana?'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Then, O bull in Bharata's race, Nandini, alarmed at the sight of Viswamitra's troops and terrified by Viswamitra himself, approached the Rishi still closer, and said, 'O illustrious one, why art thou so indifferent to my poor self afflicted with the stripes of the cruel troops of Viswamitra and crying so piteously as if I were masterless?' Hearing these words of the crying and persecuted Nandini, the great Rishi lost not his patience nor turned from his vow of forgiveness. He replied, 'The Kshatriya's might lies in physical strength, the Brahmana's in forgiveness. Because I cannot give up forgiveness, go thou, O Nandini, if thou choosest.' Nandini answered, 'Castest thou me away, O illustrious one, that thou sayest so? If thou dost not cast me off, I cannot, O Brahmana, be taken away by force.' Vasishtha said, 'O blessed one, I do not cast thee off! Stay if thou canst! O, yonder is thy calf, tied with a stout cord, and even now being weakened by it!'" "'The Gandharva continued, 'Then the cow of Vasishtha, hearing the word stay, raised her head and neck upward, and became terrible to behold. With eyes red with rage and lowing repeatedly, she then attacked Viswamitra's troops on all sides. Afflicted with their stripes and running hither and thither with those red eyes of hers, her wrath increased. Blazing with rage, she soon became terrible to behold like unto the sun in his midday glory. And from her tail she began to rain showers of burning coals all around. And some moments after, from her tail she brought forth an army of Palhavas, and from her udders, an army of Dravidas and Sakas; and from her womb, an army of Yavanas, and from her dung, an army of Savaras; and from her urine, an army of Kanchis; and from her sides, an army of Savaras. And from the froth of her mouth came out hosts of Paundras and Kiratas, Yavanas and Sinhalas, and the barbarous tribes of Khasas and Chivukas and Pulindas and Chinas and Hunas with Keralas, and numerous other Mlechchhas. And that vast army of Mlechchhas in various uniforms, and armed with various weapons, as soon as it sprang into life, deploying in the very sight of Viswamitra, attacked that monarch's soldiers. And so numerous was that Mlechchha host that each particular soldier of Viswamitra was attacked by a band of six or seven of their enemies. Assailed with a mighty shower of weapons, Viswamitra's troops broke and fled, panic- stricken, in all directions, before his very eyes. But, O bull in Bharata's race, the troops of Vasishtha, though excited with wrath, took not the life of any of Viswamitra's troops. Nandini simply caused the monarch's army to be routed and driven off. And driven (from the asylum) twenty-seven full miles, panic-stricken, they shrieked aloud and beheld not anyone that could protect them. Viswamitra, beholding this wonderful feat that resulted from Brahmana prowess, became disgusted with Kshatriya prowess and said, 'O, fie on Kshatriya prowess! Brahmana prowess is true prowess! In judging of strength and weakness, I see that asceticism is true strength.' Saying this, the monarch, abandoning his large domains and regal splendour and turning his back upon all pleasures, set his mind on asceticism. Crowned with success in asceticism and filling the three worlds with the heat of his ascetic penances, he afflicted all creatures and finally became a Brahmana. The son of Kusika at last drank Soma with Indra himself (in Heaven)."'" SECTION CLXXVIII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva continued, "There was, O Partha, a king in this world, named Kalmashapada, who was of the race of Ikshvaku and was unequalled on earth for prowess. One day the king went from his capital into the woods for purposes of hunting, and this grinder of foes pierced (with his arrows) many deer and wild boars. And in those deep woods the king also slew many rhinoceroses. Engaged in sport for some length of time, the monarch became very much fatigued and at last he gave up the chase, desiring to rest awhile. "'"The great Viswamitra, endued with energy, had, a little while ago, desired to make that monarch his disciple. As the monarch, afflicted with hunger and thirst, was proceeding through the woods, he came across that best of Rishis, the illustrious son of Vasishtha, coming along the same path. The king ever victorious in battle saw that Muni bearing the name of Saktri, that illustrious propagator of Vasishtha's race, the eldest of the high-souled Vasishtha's hundred sons, coming along from opposite direction. The king, beholding him said, 'Stand out of our way.' The Rishi, addressing the monarch in a conciliatory manner, said unto him sweetly, 'O king, this is my way. This is the eternal rule of morality indicated in every treatise on duty and religion, viz., that a king should ever make way for Brahmanas.' Thus did they address each other respecting their right of way. 'Stand aside, stand aside', were the words they said unto each other. The Rishi, who was in the right, did not yield, nor did the king yield to him from pride and anger. That best of monarchs, enraged at the Rishi, refusing to yield him the way, acted like a Rakshasa, striking him with his whip. Thus whipped by the monarch, that best of Rishis, the son of Vasishtha, was deprived of his senses by anger, and speedily cursed that first of monarchs, saying, 'O worst of kings, since thou persecutest like a Rakshasa an ascetic, thou shalt from this day, became a Rakshasa subsisting on human flesh! Hence, thou worst of kings! thou shalt wander over the earth, affecting human form!' Thus did the Rishi Sakti, endued with great prowess, speak unto king Kalmashapada. At this time Viswamitra, between whom and Vasishtha there was a dispute about the discipleship of Kalmashapada, approached the place where that monarch and Vasishtha's son were. And, O Partha, that Rishi of severe ascetic penances, viz., Viswamitra of great energy, approached the pair (knowing by his spiritual insight that they had been thus quarrelling with each other). After the curse had been pronounced, that best of monarchs knew that Rishi to be Vasishtha's son and equal unto Vasishtha himself in energy. And, O Bharata, Viswamitra, desirous of benefiting himself, remained on that spot, concealed from the sight of both by making himself invisible. Then that best of monarchs, thus cursed by Saktri, desiring to propitiate the Rishi began to humbly beseech him. And, O chief of the Kurus, Viswamitra, ascertaining the disposition of the king (and fearing that the difference might be made up), ordered a Rakshasa to enter the body of the king. And a Rakshasa of the name of Kinkara then entered the monarch's body in obedience to Saktri's curse and Viswamitra's command. And knowing, O chastiser of foes, that the Rakshasa had possessed himself of the monarch, that best of Rishis, Viswamitra, then left the spot and went away. "'"Shortly after, O Partha, the monarch, possessed by the Rakshasa and terribly afflicted by him, lost all his senses. At this time a Brahmana beheld the king in the woods. Afflicted with hunger, that Brahmana begged of the king some food with meat. The royal sage, Kalmashapada, that cherisher of friends, answered the Brahmana, saying, 'Stay thou here, O Brahmana for a moment. On my return, I will give thee whatever food thou desirest.' Having said this, the monarch went away, but the Brahmana stayed on there. The high-minded king having roved for some time at pleasure and according to his will, at last entered his inner apartment. Thus waking at midnight and remembering his promise, he summoned his cook and told him of his promise unto the Brahmana staying in the forest. And he commanded him, saying, 'Hie thee to that forest. A Brahmana waiteth for me in the hope of food. Go and entertain him with food and meat.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Thus commanded, the cook went out in search of meat. Distressed at not having found any, he informed the king of his failure. The monarch, however, possessed as he was by the Rakshasa, repeatedly said, without scruple of any kind, 'Feed him with human flesh.' The cook, saying, 'So be it,' went to the place where the (king's) executioners were, and thence taking human flesh and washing and cooking it duly and covering it with boiled rice offered it unto that hungry Brahmana devoted to ascetic penances. But that best of Brahmanas, seeing with his spiritual sight that the food was unholy and, therefore, unworthy of being eaten, said these words with eyes red with anger, 'Because that worst of kings offereth me food that is unholy and unworthy of being taken, therefore that wretch shall have himself a fondness for such food. And becoming fond of human flesh as cursed by Saktri of old, the wretch shall wander over the earth, alarming and otherwise troubling all creatures.' The curse, therefore, on that king, thus repeated a second time, became very strong, and the king, possessed by a Rakshasa disposition, soon lost all his senses. "'"A little while after, O Bharata, that best of monarchs, deprived of all his senses by the Rakshasa within him, beholding Saktri who had cursed him, said, 'Because thou hast pronounced on me this extraordinary curse, therefore, I shall begin my life of cannibalism by devouring thee.' Having said this, the king immediately slew Saktri and ate him up, like a tiger eating the animal it was fond of. Beholding Saktri thus slain and devoured, Viswamitra repeatedly urged that Rakshasa (who was within the monarch) against the other sons of Vasishtha. Like a wrathful lion devouring small animals, that Rakshasa soon devoured the other sons of the illustrious Vasishtha that were junior to Saktri in age. But Vasishtha, learning that all his sons had been caused to be slain by Viswamitra, patiently bore his grief like the great mountain that bears the earth. That best of Munis, that foremost of intelligent men, was resolved rather to sacrifice his own life than exterminate (in anger) the race of Kusikas. The illustrious Rishi threw himself down from the summit of Meru, but he descended on the stony ground as though on a heap of cotton. And, O son of Pandu, when the illustrious one found that death did not result from that fall, he kindled a huge fire in the forest and entered it with alacrity. But that fire, though burning brightly, consumed him not. O slayer of foes, that blazing fire seemed to him cool. Then the great Muni under the influence of grief, beholding the sea, tied a stony weight to his neck and threw himself into its waters. But the waves soon cast him ashore. At last when that Brahmana of rigid vows succeeded not in killing himself by any means, he returned, in distress of heart, to his asylum."'" SECTION CLXXIX (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva continued, "Beholding his asylum bereft of his children, the Muni afflicted with great grief left it again. And in course of his wandering he saw, O Partha, a river swollen with the waters of the rainy season, sweeping away numberless trees and plants that had grown on its margin. Beholding this, O thou of Kuru's race, the distressed Muni thinking that he would certainly be drowned if he fell into the waters of that river, he tied himself strongly with several cords and flung himself, under the influence of grief, into the current of that mighty stream. But, O slayer of foes, that stream soon cut those cords and cast the Rishi ashore. And the Rishi rose from the bank, freed from the cords with which he had tied himself. And because his cords were thus broken off by the violence of the current, the Rishi called the stream by the name of Vipasa (the cord-breaker). For his grief the Muni could not, from that time, stay in one place; he began to wander over mountains and along rivers and lakes. And beholding once again a river named Haimavati (flowing from Himavat) of terrible aspect and full of fierce crocodiles and other (aquatic) monsters, the Rishi threw himself into it, but the river mistaking the Brahmana for a mass of (unquenchable) fire, immediately flew in a hundred different directions, and hath been known ever since by the name of the Satadru (the river of a hundred courses). Seeing himself on the dry land even there he exclaimed, 'O, I cannot die by my own hands!' Saying this, the Rishi once more bent his steps towards his asylum. Crossing numberless mountains and countries, as he was about to re-enter his asylum, he was followed by his daughter-in-law named Adrisyanti. As she neared him, he heard the sound from behind of a very intelligent recitation of the Vedas with the six graces of elocution. Hearing that sound, the Rishi asked, 'Who is it that followeth me?' His daughter-in-law then answered, 'I am Adrisyanti, the wife of Saktri. I am helpless, though devoted to asceticism.' Hearing her, Vasishtha said, 'O daughter, whose is this voice that I heard, repeating the Vedas along with the Angas like unto the voice of Saktri reciting the Vedas with the Angas?' Adrisyanti answered, 'I bear in my womb a child by thy son Saktri. He hath been here full twelve years. The voice thou hearest is that of the Muni, who is reciting the Vedas.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Thus addressed by her the illustrious Vasishtha became exceedingly glad. And saying, 'O, there is a child (of my race)!'-- he refrained, O Partha, from self-destruction. The sinless one accompanied by his daughter-in-law, then returned to his asylum. And the Rishi saw one day in the solitary woods (the Rakshasa) Kalmashapada. The king, O Bharata, possessed by fierce Rakshasa, as he saw the Rishi, became filled with wrath and rose up, desiring to devour him. And Adrisyanti beholding before her that the Rakshasa of cruel deeds, addressed Vasishtha in these words, full of anxiety and fear, 'O illustrious one, the cruel Rakshasa, like unto Death himself armed with (his) fierce club, cometh towards us with a wooden club in hand! There is none else on earth, except thee, O illustrious one, and, O foremost of all that are conversant with the Vedas to restrain him today. Protect me, O illustrious one, from this cruel wretch of terrible mien. Surely, the Rakshasa cometh hither to devour us!' Vasishtha, hearing this, said, 'Fear not, O daughter, there is no need of any fear from any Rakshasa. This one is no Rakshasa from whom thou apprehendest such imminent danger. This is king Kalmashapada endued with great energy and celebrated on earth. That terrible man dwelleth in these woods.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Beholding him advancing, the illustrious Rishi Vasishtha, endued with great energy, restrained him, O Bharata, by uttering the sound Hum. Sprinkling him again with water sanctified with incantations the Rishi freed the monarch from that terrible curse. For twelve years the monarch had been overwhelmed by the energy of Vasishtha's son like Surya seized by the planet (Rahu) during the season of an eclipse. Freed from the Rakshasa the monarch illumined that large forest by his splendour like the sun illumining the evening clouds. Recovering his power of reason, the king saluted that best of Rishis with joined palms and said, 'O illustrious one, I am the son of Sudasa and thy disciple, O best of Munis! O, tell me what is thy pleasure and what I am to do.' Vasishtha replied, saying, 'My desire hath already been accomplished. Return now to thy kingdom and rule thy subjects. And, O chief of men, never insult Brahmanas any more.' The monarch replied, 'O illustrious one, I shall never more insult superior Brahmanas. In obedience to thy command I shall always worship Brahmanas. But, O best of Brahmanas, I desire to obtain from thee that by which, O foremost of all that are conversant with the Vedas, I may be freed from the debt I owe to the race of Ikshvaku! O best of men, it behoveth thee to grant me, for the perpetuation of Ikshvaku's race, a desirable son possessing beauty and accomplishments and good behaviour.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Thus addressed, Vasishtha, that best of Brahmanas devoted to truth replied unto that mighty bowman of a monarch, saying, 'I will give you.' After some time, O prince of men, Vasishtha, accompanied by the monarch, went to the latter's capital known all over the earth by the name of Ayodhya. The citizens in great joy came out to receive the sinless and illustrious one, like the dwellers in heaven coming out to receive their chief. The monarch, accompanied by Vasishtha, re-entered his auspicious capital after a long time. The citizens of Ayodhya beheld their king accompanied by his priest, as if he were the rising sun. The monarch who was superior to everyone in beauty filled by his splendour the whole town of Ayodhya, like the autumnal moon filling by his splendour the whole firmament. And the excellent city itself, in consequence of its streets having been watered and swept, and of the rows of banners and pendants beautifying it all around, gladdened the monarch's heart. And, O prince of Kuru's race, the city filled as it was with joyous and healthy souls, in consequence of his presence, looked gay like Amaravati with the presence of the chief of the celestials. After the royal sage had entered his capital, the queen, at the king's command, approached Vasishtha. The great Rishi, making a covenant with her, united himself with her according to the high ordinance. And after a little while, when the queen conceived, that best of Rishis, receiving the reverential salutations of the king, went back to his asylum. The queen bore the embryo in her womb for a long time. When she saw that she did not bring forth anything, she tore open her womb by a piece of stone. It was then that at the twelfth year (of the conception) was born Asmaka, that bull amongst men, that royal sage who founded (the city of) Paudanya."'" SECTION CLXXX (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva continued, "Then, O Partha, Adrisyanti, who had been residing in Vasishtha's asylum, brought forth (when the time came) a son who was the perpetuator of Saktri's race and who was a second Saktri in everything. O foremost of Bharatas, that best of Munis, the illustrious Vasishtha himself performed the usual after-birth ceremonies of his grandson. And, because the Rishi Vasishtha had resolved on self- destruction but had abstained therefrom as soon as he knew of the existence of that child, that child, when born, was called Parasara (the vivifier of the dead). The virtuous Parasara, from the day of his birth, knew Vasishtha for his father and behaved towards the Muni as such. One day, O son of Kunti, the child addressed Vasishtha, that first of Brahmana sages, as father, in the presence of his mother Adrisyanti. Adrisyanti, hearing the very intelligible sound 'father' sweetly uttered by her son, addressed him with tearful eyes and said, 'O child, do not address this thy grandfather as father. Thy father, O son, has been devoured by a Rakshasa in a different forest. O innocent one, he is not thy father whom thou regardest so. The revered one is the father of that celebrated father of thine.' Thus addressed by his mother that best of Rishis of truthful speech, gave way to sorrow, but soon fired up and resolved to destroy the whole creation. Then that illustrious and great ascetic Vasishtha, that foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma, that son of Mitravaruna, that Rishi acquainted with positive truth, addressed his grandson who had set his heart upon the destruction of the world. Hear, O Arjuna, the arguments by which Vasishtha succeeded in driving out that resolution from his grandson's mind." "'The Gandharva continued, "Then Vasishtha said, 'There was a celebrated king of the name of Kritavirya. That bull among the kings of the earth was the disciple of the Veda-knowing Bhrigus. That king, O child, after performing the Soma sacrifice, gratified the Brahmanas with great presents of rice and wealth. After that monarch had ascended to heaven, an occasion came when his descendants were in want of wealth. And knowing that the Bhrigus were rich, those princes went unto those best of Brahmanas, in the guise of beggars. Some amongst the Bhrigus, to protect their wealth, buried it under earth; and some from fear of the Kshatriyas, began to give away their wealth unto (other) Brahmanas; while some amongst them duly gave unto the Kshatriyas whatever they wanted. It happened, however, that some Kshatriyas, in digging as they pleased at the house of particular Bhargava, came upon a large treasure. And the treasure was seen by all those bulls among Kshatriyas who had been there. Enraged at what they regarded as the deceitful behaviour of the Bhrigus, the Kshatriyas insulted the Brahmanas, though the latter asked for mercy. And those mighty bowmen began to slaughter the Bhrigus with their sharp arrows. And the Kshatriyas wandered over the earth, slaughtering even the embryos that were in the wombs of the women of the Bhrigu race. And while the Bhrigu race was thus being exterminated, the women of that tribe fled from fear to the inaccessible mountains of Himavat. And one amongst these women, of tapering thighs, desiring to perpetuate her husband's race, held in one of her thighs an embryo endued with great energy. A certain Brahmana woman, however, who came to know this fact, went from fear unto the Kshatriyas and reported the matter unto them. And the Kshatriyas then went to destroy that embryo. Arrived at the place, they beheld the would-be mother blazing with inborn energy, and the child that was in her thigh came out tearing up the thigh and dazzling the eyes of those Kshatriyas like the midday sun. Thus deprived of their eyes, the Kshatriyas began to wander over those inaccessible mountains. And distressed at the loss of sight, the princes were afflicted with woe, and desirous of regaining the use of their eyes they resolved to seek the protection of that faultless woman. Then those Kshatriyas, afflicted with sorrow, and from loss of sight like unto a fire that hath gone out, addressed with anxious hearts that illustrious lady, saying, "By thy grace. O lady, we wish to be restored to sight. We shall then return to our homes all together and abstain for ever from our sinful practice. O handsome one, it behoveth thee with thy child to show us mercy. It behoveth thee to favour these kings by granting them their eye-sight.'"'" SECTION CLXXXI (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'"Vasishtha continued, 'The Brahmana lady, thus addressed by them, said, "Ye children, I have not robbed you of your eye-sight, nor am I angry with you. This child, however, of the Bhrigu race hath certainly been angry with you. There is little doubt, ye children, that ye have been robbed of your sight by that illustrious child whose wrath hath been kindled at the remembrance of the slaughter of his race. Ye children, while ye were destroying even the embryos of the Bhrigu race, this child was held by me in my thigh for a hundred years! And in order that the prosperity of Bhrigu's race might be restored, the entire Vedas with their branches came unto this one even while he was in the womb. It is plain that this scion of the Bhrigu race, enraged at the slaughter of his fathers, desireth to slay you! It is by his celestial energy that your eyes have been scorched. Therefore, ye children, pray ye unto this my excellent child born of my thigh. Propitiated by your homage he may restore your eye-sight."' "'"Vasishtha continued, 'Hearing those words of the Brahmana lady, all these princes addressed the thigh-born child, saying, "Be propitious!" And the child became propitious unto them. And that best of Brahmana Rishis, in consequence of his having been born after tearing open his mother's thigh, came to be known throughout the three worlds by the name of Aurva (thigh- born). And those princes regaining their eye-sight went away. But the Muni Aurva of the Bhrigu race resolved upon overcoming the whole world. And the high-souled Rishi set his heart, O child, upon the destruction of every creature in the world. And that scion of the Bhrigu race, for paying homage (as he regarded) unto his slaughtered ancestors, devoted himself to the austerest of penances with the object of destroying the whole world. And desirous of gratifying his ancestors, the Rishi afflicted by his severe asceticism the three worlds with the celestials, the Asuras and human beings. The Pitris, then, learning what the child of their race was about, all came from their own region unto the Rishi and addressing him said: "'"'"Aurva, O son, fierce thou hast been in thy asceticism. Thy power hath been witnessed by us. Be propitious unto the three worlds. O, control thy wrath. O child, it was not from incapacity that the Bhrigus of souls under complete control were, all of them, indifferent to their own destruction at the hands of the murderous Kshatriyas. O child, when we grew weary of the long periods of life alloted to us, it was then that we desired our own destruction through the instrumentality of the Kshatriyas. The wealth that the Bhrigus had placed in their house underground had been placed only with the object of enraging the Kshatriyas and picking a quarrel with them. O thou best of Brahmanas, as we were desirous of heaven, of what use could wealth be to us? The treasurer of heaven (Kuvera) had kept a large treasure for us. When we found that death could not, by any means, overtake us all, it was then, O child, that we regarded this as the best means (of compassing our desire). They who commit suicide never attain to regions that are blessed. Reflecting upon this, we abstained from self- destruction. That which therefore thou desirest to do is not agreeable to us. Restrain thy mind, therefore, from the sinful act of destroying the whole world. O child, destroy not the Kshatriyas nor the seven worlds. O, kill this wrath of thine that staineth thy ascetic energy."'"'" SECTION CLXXXII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva said, "Vasishtha after this, continued the narration saying, 'Hearing words of the Pitris, Aurva, O child, replied unto them to this effect: "'"'"Ye Pitris, the vow I have made from anger for the destruction of all the worlds, must not go in vain. I cannot consent to be one whose anger and vows are futile. Like fire consuming dry woods, this rage of mine will certainly consume me if I do not accomplish my vow. The man that represseth his wrath that hath been excited by (adequate) cause, becometh incapable of duly compassing the three ends of life (viz., religion, profit and pleasure). The wrath that kings desirous of subjugating the whole earth exhibit, is not without its uses. It serveth to restrain the wicked and to protect the honest. While lying unborn within my mother's thigh, I heard the doleful cries of my mother and other women of the Bhrigu race who were then being exterminated by the Kshatriyas. Ye Pitris, when those wretches of Kshatriyas began to exterminate the Bhrigus together with unborn children of their race, it was then that wrath filled my soul. My mother and the other women of our race, each in an advanced state of pregnancy, and my father, while terribly alarmed, found not in all the worlds a single protector. Then when the Bhrigu women found not a single protector, my mother held me in one of her thighs. If there be a punisher of crimes in the worlds no one in all the worlds would dare commit a crime; if he findeth not a punisher, the number of sinners becometh large. The man who having the power to prevent or punish sin doth not do so knowing that a sin hath been committed, is himself defiled by that sin. When kings and others, capable of protecting my fathers, protect them not, postponing that duty preferring the pleasures of life, I have just cause to be enraged with them. I am the lord of the creation, capable of punishing its iniquity. I am incapable of obeying your command. Capable of punishing this crime, if I abstain from so doing, men will once more have to undergo a similar persecution. The fire of my wrath too that is ready to consume the worlds, if repressed, will certainly consume by its own energy my own self. Ye masters, I know that ye ever seek the good of the worlds: direct me, therefore, as to what may benefit both myself and the worlds.' "'"Vasishtha continued, 'The Pitris replied saying, "O, throw this fire that is born of thy wrath and that desireth to consume the worlds, into the waters. That will do thee good. The worlds, indeed, are all dependent on water (as their elementary cause). Every juicy substance containeth water, indeed the whole universe is made of water. Therefore, O thou best of Brahmanas, cast thou this fire of thy wrath into the waters. If, therefore, thou desirest it, O Brahmana, let this fire born of thy wrath abide in the great ocean, consuming the waters thereof, for it hath been said that the worlds are made of water. In this way, O thou sinless one, thy word will be rendered true, and the worlds with the gods will not be destroyed." "'"Vasishtha continued, 'Then, O child, Aurva cast the fire of his wrath into the abode of Varuna. And that fire which consumeth the waters of the great ocean, became like unto a large horse's head which persons conversant with the Vedas call by the name of Vadavamukha. And emitting itself from that mouth it consumeth the waters of the mighty ocean. Blest be thou! It behoveth not thee, therefore, to destroy the worlds, O thou Parasara, who art acquainted with the higher regions, thou foremost of wise men!'"'" SECTION CLXXXIII (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'The Gandharva continued, "The Brahmana sage (Parasara) thus addressed by the illustrious Vasishtha restrained his wrath from destroying the worlds. But the Rishi Parasara endued with great energy--the son of Saktri--the foremost of all persons acquainted with the Vedas--performed a grand Rakshasa sacrifice. And remembering the slaughter of (his father) Saktri, the great Muni began to consume the Rakshasas, young and old, in the sacrifice he performed. And Vasishtha did not restrain him from this slaughter of the Rakshasa, from the determination of not obstructing this second vow (of his grandson). And in that sacrifice the great Muni Parasara sat before three blazing fires, himself like unto a fourth fire. And the son of Saktri, like the Sun just emerging from the clouds, illuminated the whole firmament by that stainless sacrifice of his into which large were the libations poured of clarified butter. Then Vasishtha and the other Rishis regarded that Muni blazing with his own energy as if he were the second Sun. Then the great Rishi Atri of liberal soul desirous of ending that sacrifice, an achievement highly difficult for others,-- came to that place. And there also came, O thou slayer of all foes, Pulastya and Pulaha, and Kratu the performer of many great sacrifices, all influenced by the desire of saving the Rakshasas. And, O thou bull of the Bharata race, Pulastya then, seeing that many Rakshasas had already been slain, told these words unto Parasara that oppressor of all enemies: "'"'There is no obstruction, I hope, to this sacrifice of thine, O child! Takest thou any pleasure, O child, in this slaughter of even all those innocent Rakshasas that know nothing of thy father's death. It behoveth thee not to destroy any creatures thus. This, O child, is not the occupation of a Brahmana devoted to asceticism. Peace is the highest virtue. Therefore, O Parasara, establish thou peace. How hast thou, O Parasara, being so superior, engaged thyself in such a sinful practice? It behoveth not thee to transgress against Saktri himself who was well- acquainted with all rules of morality. It behoveth not thee to extirpate any creatures. O descendant of Vasishtha's race, that which befell thy father was brought about by his own curse. It was for his own fault that Saktri was taken hence unto heaven. O Muni, no Rakshasa was capable of devouring Saktri; he himself provided for his own death. And, O Parasara, Viswamitra was only a blind instrument in that matter. Both Saktri and Kalmashapada, having ascended to heaven are enjoying great happiness. And, the other sons also of the great Rishi Vasishtha who were younger than Saktri, are even now enjoying themselves with the celestials. And, O child, O offspring of Vasishtha's son, thou hast also been, in this sacrifice, only an instrument in the destruction of these innocent Rakshasas. O, blest be thou! Abandon this sacrifice of thine. Let it come to an end.'" "'The Gandharva continued, "Thus addressed by Pulastya, as also by the intelligent Vasishtha, that mighty Muni--the son of Saktri then brought that sacrifice to an end. And the Rishi cast the fire that he had ignited for the purpose of the Rakshasas' sacrifice into the deep woods on the north of the Himavat. And that fire may be seen to this day consuming Rakshasas and trees and stones in all seasons."'" SECTION CLXXXIV (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'Arjuna asked, "What for, O Gandharva, did king Kalmashapada command his queen to go unto that foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas-- the master Vasishtha? Why also did that illustrious and great Rishi Vasishtha himself who was acquainted with every rule of morality know a woman he should not have known? O friend, was this an act of sin on the part of Vasishtha? It behoveth thee to remove the doubts I entertain and refer to thee for solution." "'The Gandharva replied, saying, "O irrepressible Dhananjaya, listen to me as I answer the question thou hast asked in respect of Vasishtha and king Kalmashapada that cherisher of friends. O thou best of the Bharatas, I have told thee all about the curse of king Kalmashapada by Saktri, the illustrious son of Vasishtha. Brought under the influence of the curse, that smiter of all foes--king Kalmashapada--with eyes whirling in anger went out of his capital accompanied by his wife. And entering with his wife the solitary woods the king began to wander about. And one day while the king under the influence of the curse was wandering through that forest abounding in several kinds of deer and various other animals and overgrown with numerous large trees and shrubs and creepers and resounding with terrible cries, he became exceedingly hungry. And the monarch thereupon began to search for some food. Pinched with hunger, the king at last saw, in a very solitary part of the woods, a Brahmana and his wife enjoying each other. Alarmed at beholding the monarch the couple ran away, their desire ungratified. Pursuing the retreating pair, the king forcibly seized the Brahmana. Then the Brahmani, beholding her lord seized, addressed the monarch, saying, 'Listen to what I say, O monarch of excellent vows! It is known all over the world that thou art born in the solar race, and that thou art ever vigilant in the practice of morality and devoted to the service of thy superiors. It behoveth thee not to commit sin, O thou irrepressible one, deprived though thou hast been of thy senses by (the Rishi's) curse. My season hath come, and wishful of my husband's company I was connected with him. I have not been gratified yet. Be propitious unto us, O thou best of kings! Liberate my husband.' The monarch, however, without listening to her cries cruelly devoured her husband like a tiger devouring its desirable prey. Possessed with wrath at this sight, the tears that that woman shed blazed up like fire and consumed everything in that place. Afflicted with grief at the calamity that overtook her lord, the Brahmani in anger cursed the royal sage Kalmashapada, 'Vile wretch, since thou hast today cruelly devoured under my very nose my illustrious husband dear unto me, even before my desires have been gratified, therefore shall thou, O wicked one afflicted by my curse, meet with instant death when thou goest in for thy wife in season. And thy wife, O wretch, shall bring forth a son uniting herself with that Rishi Vasishtha whose children have been devoured by thee. And that child, O worst of kings, shall be the perpetuator of thy race.' And cursing the monarch thus, that lady of Angira's house bearing every auspicious mark, entered the blazing fire in the very sight of the monarch. And, O thou oppressor of all foes, the illustrious and exalted Vasishtha by his ascetic power and spiritual insight immediately knew all. And long after this, when the king became freed from his curse, he approached his wife Madayanati when her season came. But Madayanati softly sent him away. Under the influence of passion the monarch had no recollection of that curse. Hearing, however, the words of his wife, the best of kings became terribly alarmed. And recollecting the curse he repented bitterly of what he had done. It was for this reason, O thou best of men, that the monarch infected with the Brahmani's curse, appointed Vasishtha to beget a son upon his queen."'" SECTION CLXXXV (Chaitraratha Parva continued) "'Arjuna asked, "O Gandharva, thou art acquainted with everything. Tell us, therefore, which Veda-knowing Brahmana is worthy to be appointed as our priest." "'The Gandharva replied, "There is in these woods a shrine of the name of Utkochaka. Dhaumya, the younger brother of Devala is engaged there in ascetic penances. Appoint him, if ye desire, your priest."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Arjuna, highly pleased with everything that had happened, gave unto that Gandharva, his weapon of fire with befitting ceremonies. And addressing him, the Pandava also said, "O thou best of Gandharvas, let the horses thou givest us remain with thee for a time. When the occasion cometh, we will take them from thee. Blest be thou." Then the Gandharva and the Pandavas, respectfully saluting each other, left the delightful banks of the Bhagirathi and went wheresoever they desired. Then, O Bharata, the Pandavas going to Utkochaka, the sacred asylum of Dhaumya installed Dhaumya as their priest. And Dhaumya, the foremost of all conversant with the Vedas, receiving them with presents of wild fruits and (edible) roots, consented to become their priest. And the Pandavas with their mother forming the sixth of the company, having obtained that Brahmana as their priest regarded their sovereignty and kingdom as already regained and the daughter of the Panchala king as already obtained in the Swayamavara. And those bulls of the Bharata race, having obtained the master Dhaumya as their priest, also regarded themselves as placed under a powerful protector. And the high-souled Dhaumya, acquainted with the true meaning of the Vedas and every rule of morality, becoming the spiritual preceptor of the virtuous Pandavas, made them his Yajamanas (spiritual disciples). And that Brahmana, beholding those heroes endued with intelligence and strength and perseverance like unto the celestials, regarded them as already restored, by virtue of their own accomplishments to their sovereignty and kingdom. Then those kings of men, having had benedictions uttered upon them by that Brahmana, resolved to go, accompanied by him, to the Swayamvara of the Princess of Panchala.'" SECTION CLXXXVI (Swayamvara Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then those tigers among men--those brothers--the five Pandavas, set out for Panchala to behold that country and Draupadi and the festivities (in view of her marriage). And those tigers among men--those oppressors of all enemies--in going along with their mother, saw on the way numerous Brahmanas proceeding together. And those Brahmanas who were all Brahmacharis beholding the Pandavas, O king, asked them, "Where are ye going to? Whence also are ye come?" And Yudhishthira replied unto them, saying, "Ye bulls among Brahmanas, know ye that we are uterine brothers proceeding together with our mother. We are coming even from Ekachakra." The Brahmanas then said, "Go ye this very day to the abode of Drupada in the country of the Panchalas. A great Swayamvara takes place there, on which a large sum of money will be spent. We also are proceeding thither. Let us all go together. Extraordinary festivities will take place (in Drupada's abode). The illustrious Yajnasena, otherwise called Drupada, had a daughter risen from the centre of the sacrificial altar. Of eyes like lotus-petals and of faultless features endued with youth and intelligence, she is extremely beautiful. And the slender-waisted Draupadi of every feature perfectly faultless, and whose body emitteth a fragrance like unto that of the blue lotus for two full miles around, is the sister of the strong-armed Dhrishtadyumna gifted with great prowess--the (would-be) slayer of Drona--who was born with natural mail and sword and bow and arrows from the blazing fire, himself like unto the second Fire. And that daughter of Yajnasena will select a husband from among the invited princes. And we are repairing thither to behold her and the festivities on the occasion, like unto the festivities of heaven. And to that Swayamvara will come from various lands kings and princes who are performers of sacrifices in which the presents to the Brahmanas are large: who are devoted to study, are holy, illustrious, and of rigid vows; who are young and handsome; and who are mighty car-warriors and accomplished in arms. Desirous of winning (the hand of) the maiden those monarchs will all give away much wealth and kine and food and other articles of enjoyment. And taking all they will give away and witnessing the Swayamvara, and enjoying the festivities, we shall go wheresoever we like. And there will also come unto that Swayamvara, from various countries, actors, and bards singing the panegyrics of kings, and dancers, and reciters of Puranas, and heralds, and powerful athletes. And beholding all these sights and taking what will be given away to illustrious ones, ye will return with us. Ye are all handsome and like unto the celestials! Beholding you, Krishna may, by chance, choose some one amongst you superior to the rest. This thy brother of mighty arms and handsome and endued with beauty also, engaged in (athletic) encounters, may, by chance, earn great wealth." "'On hearing these words of the Brahmanas, Yudhishthira replied, "Ye Brahmanas, we will all go with you to witness that maiden's Swayamvara-- that excellent jubilee."'" SECTION CLXXXVII (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by the Brahmanas, the Pandavas, O Janamejaya, proceeded towards the country of the southern Panchalas ruled over by the king Drupada. And on their way those heroes beheld the illustrious Dwaipayana--that Muni of pure soul, and perfectly sinless. And duly saluting the Rishi and saluted by him, after their conversation was over, commanded by him they proceeded to Drupada's abode. And those mighty chariot-fighters proceeded by slow stages staying for some time within those beautiful woods and by fine lakes that they beheld along their way. Devoted to study, pure in their practices, amiable, and sweet-speeched, the Pandavas at last entered the country of the Panchalas. And beholding the capital, as also the fort, they took up their quarters in the house of a potter. Adopting the Brahmanical profession, they began to lead an eleemosynary life. And no men recognised those heroes during their stay in Drupada's capital. "'Yajnasena always cherished the desire of bestowing his daughter on Kiriti (Arjuna), the son of Pandu. But he never spoke of it to anybody. And, O Janamejaya, the king of Panchala thinking of Arjuna caused a very stiff bow to be made that was incapable of being bent by any except Arjuna. Causing some machinery to be erected in the sky, the king set up a mark attached to that machinery. And Drupada said, "He that will string this bow and with these well-adorned arrows shoot the mark above the machine shall obtain my daughter."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'With these words king Drupada proclaimed the Swayamvara. On hearing of them, O Bharata, the kings of other lands came to his capital. And there came also many illustrious Rishis desirous of beholding the Swayamvara. And there came also, O king, Duryodhana and the Kurus accompanied by Karna. There also came many superior Brahmanas from every country. And the monarchs who came there were all received with reverence by the illustrious Drupada. Desirous of beholding the Swayamvara, the citizens, roaring like the sea, all took their seats on the platforms that were erected around the amphitheatre. The monarch entered the grand amphitheatre by the north-eastern gate. And the amphitheatre which itself had been erected on an auspicious and level plain to the north-east of Drupada's capital, was surrounded by beautiful mansions. And it was enclosed on all sides with high walls and a moat with arched doorways here and there. The vast amphitheatre was also shaded by a canopy of various colours. And resounding with the notes of thousands of trumpets, it was scented with black aloes and sprinkled all over with water mixed with sandal-paste and decorated with garlands of flowers. It was surrounded with high mansions perfectly white and resembling the cloud-kissing peaks of Kailasa. The windows of those mansions were covered with net works of gold; the walls were set with diamonds and precious costly carpets and cloths. All those mansions adorned with wreaths and garlands of flowers and rendered fragrant with excellent aloes, were all white and spotless, like unto the necks of swans. And the fragrance therefrom could be perceived from the distance of a Yojana (eight miles). And they were each furnished with a hundred doors wide enough to admit a crowd of persons; they were adorned with costly beds and carpets, and beautified with various metals; they resembled the peaks of the Himavat. And in those seven-storied houses of various sizes dwelt the monarchs invited by Drupada whose persons were adorned with every ornament and who were possessed with the desire of excelling one another. And the inhabitants of the city and the country who had come to behold Krishna and taken their seats on the excellent platforms erected around, beheld seated within those mansions those lions among kings who were all endued with the energy of great souls. And those exalted sovereigns were all adorned with the fragrant paste of the black aloe. Of great liberality, they were all devoted to Brahma and they protected their kingdoms against all foes. And for their own good deeds they were loved by the whole world. "'The Pandavas, too, entering that amphitheatre, sat with the Brahmanas and beheld the unequalled affluence of the king of the Panchalas. And that concourse of princes, Brahmanas, and others, looking gay at the performances of actors and dancers (large presents of every kind of wealth being constantly made), began to swell day by day. And it lasted, O king, several days, till on the sixteenth day when it was at its full, the daughter of Drupada, O thou bull of the Bharata race, having washed herself clean entered the amphitheatre, richly attired and adorned with every ornament and bearing in her hand a dish of gold (whereon were the usual offerings of Arghya) and a garland of flowers. Then the priest of the lunar race--a holy Brahmana conversant with all mantras--ignited the sacrificial fire and poured on it with due rites libations of clarified butter. And gratifying Agni by these libations and making the Brahmanas utter the auspicious formula of benediction, stopped the musical instruments that were playing all around. And when that vast amphitheatre, O monarch, became perfectly still, Dhrishtadyumna possessed of a voice deep as the sound of the kettledrum or the clouds, taking hold of his sister's arm, stood in the midst of that concourse, and said, with a voice loud and deep as the roar of the clouds, these charming words of excellent import, "Hear ye assembled kings, this is the bow, that is the mark, and these are the arrows. Shoot the mark through the orifice of the machine with these five sharpened arrows. Truly do I say that, possessed of lineage, beauty of persons, and strength whoever achieveth this great feat shall obtain today this my sister, Krishna for his wife." Having thus spoken unto the assembled monarchs Drupada's son then addressed his sister, reciting unto her the names and lineages and achievements of those assembled lords of the earth.'" SECTION CLXXXVIII (Swayamvara Parva continued) "'Dhrishtadyumna said, "Duryodhana, Durvisaha, Durmukha and Dushpradharshana, Vivinsati, Vikarna, Saha, and Duhsasana; Yuyutsu and Vayuvega and Bhimavegarava; Ugrayudha, Valaki, Kanakayu, and Virochana, Sukundala, Chitrasena, Suvarcha, and Kanakadhwaja; Nandaka, and Vahusali, and Tuhunda, and Vikata; these, O sister, and many other mighty sons of Dhritarashtra--all heroes--accompanied by Karna, have come for thy hand. Innumerable other illustrious monarchs all bulls among Kshatriyas--have also come for thee. Sakuni, Sauvala, Vrisaka, and Vrihadvala,--these sons of the king Gandhara--have also come. Foremost of all wielders of weapons --the illustrious Aswatthaman and Bhoja, adorned with every ornament have also come for thee. Vrihanta, Manimana, Dandadhara, Sahadeva, Jayatsena, Meghasandhi, Virata with his two sons Sankha and Uttara, Vardhakshemi, Susarma, Senavindu, Suketu with his two sons Sunama and Suvarcha, Suchitra, Sukumara, Vrika, Satyadhriti, Suryadhwaja, Rochamana, Nila, Chitrayudha, Agsuman, Chekitana, the mighty Sreniman, Chandrasena the mighty son of Samudrasena, Jarasandha, Vidanda, and Danda--the father and son, Paundraka, Vasudeva, Bhagadatta endued with great energy, Kalinga, Tamralipta, the king of Pattana, the mighty car-warrior Salya, the king of Madra, with his son, the heroic Rukmangada, Rukmaratha, Somadatta of the Kuru race with his three sons, all mighty chariot-fighters and heroes, viz., Bhuri, Bhurisrava, and Sala, Sudakshina, Kamvoja of the Puru race, Vrihadvala, Sushena, Sivi, the son of Usinara, Patcharanihanta, the king of Karusha, Sankarshana (Valadeva), Vasudeva (Krishna) the mighty son of Rukmini, Samva, Charudeshna, the son of Pradyumna with Gada, Akrura, Satyaki, the high-souled Uddhava, Kritavarman, the son of Hridika, Prithu, Viprithu, Viduratha, Kanka, Sanku with Gaveshana, Asavaha, Aniruddha, Samika, Sarimejaya, the heroic Vatapi Jhilli Pindaraka, the powerful Usinara, all these of the Vrishni race, Bhagiratha, Vrihatkshatra, Jayadratha the son of Sindhu, Vrihadratha, Valhika, the mighty charioteer Srutayu, Uluka, Kaitava, Chitrangada and Suvangada, the highly intelligent Vatsaraja, the king of Kosala, Sisupala and the powerful Jarasandha, these and many other great kings--all Kshatriyas celebrated throughout the world--have come, O blessed one, for thee. Endued with prowess, these will shoot the mark. And thou shalt choose him for thy husband who amongst these will shoot the mark."'" SECTION CLXXXIX (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then those youthful princes adorned with ear-rings, vying with one another and each regarding himself accomplished in arms and gifted with might, stood up brandishing their weapons. And intoxicated with pride of beauty, prowess, lineage, knowledge, wealth, and youth, they were like Himalayan elephants in the season of rut with crowns split from excess of temporal juice. And beholding each other with jealousy and influenced by the god of desire, they suddenly rose up from their royal seats, exclaiming "Krishna shall be mine." And the Kshatriyas assembled in that amphitheatre, each desirous of winning the daughter of Drupada, looked like the celestial (of old) standing round Uma, the daughter of the King of mountains. Afflicted with the shafts of the god of the flowery bow and with hearts utterly lost in the contemplation of Krishna, those princes descended into the amphitheatre for winning the Panchala maiden and began to regard even their best friends with jealousy. And there came also the celestials on their cars, with the Rudras and the Adityas, the Vasus and the twin Aswins, the Swadhas and all the Marutas, and Kuvera with Yama walking ahead. And there came also the Daityas and the Suparnas, the great Nagas and the celestial Rishis, the Guhyakas and the Charanas and Viswavasu and Narada and Parvata, and the principal Gandharvas with Apsaras. And Halayudha (Valadeva) and Janardana (Krishna) and the chief of the Vrishni, Andhaka, and Yadava tribes who obeyed the leadership of Krishna were also there, viewing the scene. And beholding those elephants in rut--the five (Pandavas)--attracted towards Draupadi like mighty elephants towards a lake overgrown with lotuses, or like fire covered with ashes, Krishna the foremost of Yadu heroes began to reflect. And he said unto Rama (Valadeva), "That is Yudhishthira; that is Bhima with Jishnu (Arjuna); and those are the twin heroes." And Rama surveying them slowly cast a glance of satisfaction at Krishna. Biting their nether lips in wrath, the other heroes there--sons and grandsons of kings--with their eyes and hearts and thoughts set on Krishna, looked with expanded eyes on Draupadi alone without noticing the Pandavas. And the sons of Pritha also, of mighty arms, and the illustrious twin heroes, beholding Draupadi, were all likewise struck by the shafts of Kama. And crowded with celestial Rishis and Gandharvas and Suparnas and Nagas and Asuras and Siddhas, and filled with celestial perfumes and scattered over with celestial flowers, and resounding with the kettle-drum and the deep hum of infinite voices, and echoing with the softer music of the flute, the Vina, and the tabor, the cars of the celestials could scarcely find a passage through the firmament. Then those princes--Karna, Duryodhana, Salwa, Salya, Aswatthaman, Kratha, Sunitha, Vakra, the ruler of Kalinga and Banga, Pandya, Paundra, the ruler of Videha, the chief of the Yavanas, and many other sons and grandsons of kings,--sovereigns of territories with eyes like lotus-petals,--one after another began to exhibit prowess for (winning) that maiden of unrivalled beauty. Adorned with crowns, garlands, bracelets, and other ornaments, endued with mighty arms, possessed of prowess and vigour and bursting with strength and energy, those princes could not, even in imagination, string that bow of extraordinary stiffness. "'And (some amongst) those kings in exerting with swelling lips each according to his strength, education, skill, and energy,--to string that bow, were tossed on the ground and lay perfectly motionless for some time. Their strength spent and their crowns and garlands loosened from their persons, they began to pant for breath and their ambition of winning that fair maiden was cooled. Tossed by that tough bow, and their garlands and bracelets and other ornaments disordered, they began to utter exclamations of woe. And that assemblage of monarchs, their hope of obtaining Krishna gone, looked sad and woeful. And beholding the plight of those monarchs, Karna that foremost of all wielders of the bow went to where the bow was, and quickly raising it strung it and placed the arrows on the string. And beholding the son of Surya--Karna of the Suta tribe--like unto fire, or Soma, or Surya himself, resolved to shoot the mark, those foremost of bowmen--the sons of Pandu--regarded the mark as already shot and brought down upon the ground. But seeing Karna, Draupadi loudly said, "I will not select a Suta for my lord." Then Karna, laughing in vexation and casting glance at the Sun, threw aside the bow already drawn to a circle. "'Then when all those Kshatriyas gave up the task, the heroic king of the Chedis--mighty as Yama (Pluto) himself--the illustrious and determined Sisupala, the son of Damaghosa, in endeavouring to string the bow, himself fell upon his knees on the ground. Then king Jarasandha endued with great strength and powers, approaching the bow stood there for some moment, fixed and motionless like a mountain. Tossed by the bow, he too fell upon his knees on the ground, and rising up, the monarch left the amphitheatre for (returning to) his kingdom. Then the great hero Salya, the king of Madra, endued with great strength, in endeavouring to string the bow fell upon his knees on the ground. At last when in that assemblage consisting of highly respectable people, all the monarchs had become subjects of derisive talk that foremost of heroes--Jishnu, the son of Kunti--desired to string the bow and placed the arrows on the bow-string.'" SECTION CLXL (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'When all the monarchs had desisted from stringing that bow, the high-souled Jishnu arose from among the crowd of Brahmanas seated in that assembly. And beholding Partha possessing the complexion of Indra's banner, advancing towards the bow, the principal Brahmanas shaking their deer-skins raised a loud clamour. And while some were displeased, there were others that were well-pleased. And some there were, possessed of intelligence and foresight, who addressing one another said, "Ye Brahmanas, how can a Brahmana stripling unpractised in arms and weak in strength, string that bow which such celebrated Kshatriyas as Salya and others endued with might and accomplished in the science and practice of arms could not? If he doth not achieve success in this untried task which he hath undertaken from a spirit of boyish unsteadiness, the entire body of Brahmanas here will be rendered ridiculous in the eyes of the assembled monarchs. Therefore, forbid this Brahmana that he may not go to string the bow which he is even now desirous of doing from vanity, or mere childish daring." Others replied, "We shall not be made ridiculous, nor shall we incur the disrespect of anybody or the displeasure of the sovereigns." Some remarked, "This handsome youth is even like the trunk of a mighty elephant, whose shoulders and arms and thighs are so well-built, who in patience looks like the Himavat, whose gait is even like that of the lion, and whose prowess seems to be like that of an elephant in rut, and who is so resolute, that it is probable that he will accomplish this feat. He has strength and resolution. If he had none, he would never go of his own accord. Besides, there is nothing in the three worlds that Brahmanas of all mortal men cannot accomplish. Abstaining from all food or living upon air or eating of fruits, persevering in their vows, and emaciated and weak, Brahmanas are ever strong in their own energy. One should never disregard a Brahmana whether his acts be right or wrong, by supposing him incapable of achieving any task that is great or little, or that is fraught with bliss or woe. Rama the son of Jamadagni defeated in battle, all the Kshatriyas. Agastya by his Brahma energy drank off the fathomless ocean. Therefore, say ye, 'Let this youth bend the bow and string it with ease'" (and many said), "So be it." And the Brahmanas continued speaking unto one another these and other words. Then Arjuna approached the bow and stood there like a mountain. And walking round that bow, and bending his head unto that giver of boons--the lord Isana--and remembering Krishna also, he took it up. And that bow which Rukma, Sunitha, Vakra, Radha's son, Duryodhana, Salya, and many other kings accomplished in the science and practice of arms, could not even with great exertion, string, Arjuna, the son of Indra, that foremost of all persons endued with energy and like unto the younger brother of Indra (Vishnu) in might, strung in the twinkling of an eye. And taking up the five arrows he shot the mark and caused it to fall down on the ground through the hole in the machine above which it had been placed. Then there arose a loud uproar in the firmament, and the amphitheatre also resounded with a loud clamour. And the gods showered celestial flowers on the head of Partha the slayer of foes. And thousands of Brahmanas began to wave their upper garments in joy. And all around, the monarchs who had been unsuccessful, uttered exclamations of grief and despair. And flowers were rained from the skies all over the amphitheatre. And the musicians struck up in concert. Bards and heralds began to chant in sweet tones the praises (of the hero who accomplished the feat). And beholding Arjuna, Drupada--that slayer of foes,--was filled with joy. And the monarch desired to assist with his forces the hero if the occasion arose. And when the uproar was at its height, Yudhishthira, the foremost of all virtuous men, accompanied by those first of men the twins, hastily left the amphitheatre for returning to his temporary home. And Krishna beholding the mark shot and beholding Partha also like unto Indra himself, who had shot the mark, was filled with joy, and approached the son of Kunti with a white robe and a garland of flowers. And Arjuna the accomplisher of inconceivable feats, having won Draupadi by his success in the amphitheatre, was saluted with reverence by all the Brahmanas. And he soon after left the lists followed close by her who thus became his wife.'" SECTION CLXLI (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'When the king (Drupada) expressed his desire of bestowing his daughter on that Brahmana (who had shot the mark), all those monarchs who had been invited to the Swayamvara, looking at one another, were suddenly filled with wrath. And they said, "Passing us by and treating the assembled monarchs as straw this Drupada desireth to bestow his daughter--that first of women,--on a Brahmana! Having planted the tree he cutteth it down when it is about to bear fruit. The wretch regardeth us not: therefore let us slay him. He deserveth not our respect nor the veneration due to age. Owing to such qualities of his, we shall, therefore, slay this wretch that insulteth all kings, along with his son. Inviting all the monarchs and entertaining them with excellent food, he disregardeth us at last. In this assemblage of monarchs like unto a conclave of the celestials, doth he not see a single monarch equal unto himself? The Vedic declaration is well-known that the Swayamvara is for the Kshatriyas. The Brahmanas have no claim in respect of a selection of husband by a Kshatriya damsel. Or, ye kings, if this damsel desireth not to select any one of us as her lord, let us cast her into the fire and return to our kingdoms. As regards this Brahmana, although he hath, from officiousness or avarice, done this injury to the monarchs, he should not yet be slain; for our kingdoms, lives, treasures, sons, grandsons, and whatever other wealth we have, all exist for Brahmanas. Something must be done here (even unto him), so that from fear of disgrace and the desire of maintaining what properly belongeth unto each order, other Swayamvaras may not terminate in this way." "'Having addressed one another thus, those tigers among monarchs endued with arms like unto spiked iron maces, took up their weapons and rushed at Drupada to slay him then and there. And Drupada beholding those monarchs all at once rushing towards him in anger with bows and arrows, sought, from fear, the protection of the Brahmanas. But those mighty bowmen (Bhima and Arjuna) of the Pandavas, capable of chastising all foes, advanced to oppose those monarchs rushing towards them impetuously like elephants in the season of rut. Then the monarchs with gloved fingers and upraised weapons rushed in anger at the Kuru princes, Bhima and Arjuna, to slay them. Then the mighty Bhima of extraordinary achievements, endued with the strength of thunder, tore up like an elephant a large tree and divested it of its leaves. And with that tree, the strong-armed Bhima, the son of Pritha, that grinder of foes, stood, like unto the mace-bearing king of the dead (Yama) armed with his fierce mace, near Arjuna that bull amongst men. And beholding that feat of his brother, Jishnu of extraordinary intelligence, himself also of inconceivable feats, wondered much. And equal unto Indra himself in achievements, shaking off all fear he stood with his bow ready to receive those assailants. And beholding those feats of both Jishnu and his brother, Damodara (Krishna) of superhuman intelligence and inconceivable feats, addressing his brother, Halayudha (Valadeva) of fierce energy, said, "That hero there, of tread like that of a mighty lion, who draweth the large bow in his hand four full cubits in length, is Arjuna! There is no doubt, O Sankarshana, about this, if I am Vasudeva. That other hero who having speedily torn up the tree hath suddenly become ready to drive off the monarchs is Vrikodara! For no one in the world, except Vrikodara, could today perform such a feat in the field of battle. And that other youth of eyes like unto lotus-petals, of full four cubits height, of gait like that of a mighty lion, and humble withal, of fair complexion and prominent and shining nose, who had, a little before, left the amphitheatre, is Dharma's son (Yudhishthira). The two other youths, like unto Kartikeya, are, I suspect, the sons of the twin Aswins. I heard that the sons of Pandu along with their mother Pritha had all escaped from the conflagration of the house of lac." Then Halayudha of complexion like unto that of clouds uncharged with rain, addressing his younger brother (Krishna), said with great satisfaction, "O, I am happy to hear, as I do from sheer good fortune, that our father's sister Pritha with the foremost of the Kaurava princes have all escaped (from death)!"'" SECTION CLXLII (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then those bulls among Brahmanas shaking their deer- skins and water-pots made of cocoanut-shells exclaimed, "Fear not, we will fight the foe!" Arjuna smilingly addressing those Brahmanas exclaiming thus, said, "Stand ye aside as spectators (of the fray). Showering hundreds of arrows furnished with straight points even I shall check, like snakes with mantras, all those angry monarchs." Having said this, the mighty Arjuna taking up the bow he had obtained as dower accompanied by his brother Bhima stood immovable as a mountain. And beholding those Kshatriyas who were ever furious in battle with Karna ahead, the heroic brothers rushed fearlessly at them like two elephants rushing against a hostile elephant. Then those monarchs eager for the fight fiercely exclaimed, "The slaughter in battle of one desiring to fight is permitted." And saying this, the monarchs suddenly rushed against the Brahmanas. And Karna endued with great energy rushed against Jishnu for fight. And Salya the mighty king of Madra rushed against Bhima like an elephant rushing against another for the sake of a she-elephant in heat; while Duryodhana and others engaged with the Brahmanas, skirmished with them lightly and carelessly. Then the illustrious Arjuna beholding Karna, the son of Vikartana (Surya), advancing towards him, drew his tough bow and pieced him with his sharp arrows. And the impetus of those whetted arrows furnished with fierce energy made Radheya (Karna) faint. Recovering consciousness Karna attacked Arjuna with greater care than before. Then Karna and Arjuna, both foremost of victorious warriors, desirous of vanquishing each other, fought madly on. And such was the lightness of hand they both displayed that (each enveloped by the other's shower of arrows) they both became invisible (unto the spectators of their encounter). "Behold the strength of my arms."--"Mark, how I have counteracted that feat,"--those were the words--intelligible to heroes alone--in which they addressed each other. And incensed at finding the strength and energy of Arjuna's arms unequalled on the earth, Karna, the son of Surya, fought with greater vigour. And parrying all those impetuous arrows shot at him by Arjuna, Karna sent up a loud shout. And this feat of his was applauded by all the warriors. Then addressing his antagonist, Karna said, "O thou foremost of Brahmanas, I am gratified to observe the energy of thy arms that knoweth no relaxation in battle and thy weapons themselves fit for achieving victory. Art thou the embodiment of the science of weapons, or art thou Rama that best of Brahmanas, or Indra himself, or Indra's younger brother Vishnu called also Achyuta, who for disguising himself hath assumed the form of a Brahmana and mustering such energy of arms fighteth with me? No other person except the husband himself of Sachi or Kiriti, the son of Pandu, is capable of fighting with me when I am angry on the field of battle." Then hearing those words of his, Phalguna replied, saying, "O Karna, I am neither the science of arms (personified), nor Rama endued with superhuman powers. I am only a Brahmana who is the foremost of all warriors and all wielders of weapons. By the grace of my preceptor I have become accomplished in the Brahma and the Paurandara weapons. I am here to vanquish thee in battle. Therefore, O hero, wait a little."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed (by Arjuna), Karna the adopted son of Radha desisted from the fight, for that mighty chariot-fighter thought that Brahma energy is ever invincible. Meanwhile on another part of the field, the mighty heroes Salya and Vrikodara, well-skilled in battle and possessed of great strength and proficiency, challenging each other, engaged in fight like two elephants in rut. And they struck each other with their clenched fists and knees. And sometimes pushing each other forward and sometimes dragging each other near, sometimes throwing each other down, face downward, and sometimes on the sides, they fought on, striking each other at times with their clenched fists. And encountering each other with blows hard as the clash of two masses of granite, the lists rang with the sounds of their combat. Fighting with each other thus for a few seconds, Bhima the foremost of the Kuru heroes taking up Salya on his arms hurled him to a distance. And Bhimasena, that bull amongst men, surprised all (by the dexterity of his feat) for though he threw Salya on the ground he did it without hurting him much. And when Salya was thus thrown down and Karna was struck with fear, the other monarchs were all alarmed. And they hastily surrounded Bhima and exclaimed, "Surely these bulls amongst Brahmanas are excellent (warriors)! Ascertain in what race they have been born and where they abide. Who can encounter Karna, the son of Radha, in fight, except Rama or Drona, or Kiriti, the son of Pandu? Who also can encounter Duryodhana in battle except Krishna, the son of Devaki, and Kripa, the son of Saradwan? Who also can overthrow in battle Salya, that first of mighty warriors, except the hero Valadeva or Vrikodara, the son of Pandu, or the heroic Duryodhana? Let us, therefore, desist from this fight with the Brahmanas. Indeed, Brahmanas, however offending, should yet be ever protected. And first let us ascertain who these are; for after we have done that we may cheerfully fight with them."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'And Krishna, having beheld that feat of Bhima, believed them both to be the son of Kunti. And gently addressing the assembled monarchs, saying, "This maiden hath been justly acquired (by the Brahmana)," he induced them to abandon the fight. Accomplished in battle, those monarchs then desisted from the fight. And those best of monarchs then returned to their respective kingdoms, wondering much. And those who had come there went away saying, "The festive scene hath terminated in the victory of the Brahmanas. The princess of Panchala hath become the bride of a Brahmana." And surrounded by Brahmanas dressed in skins of deer and other wild animals, Bhima and Dhananjaya passed with difficulty out of the throng. And those heroes among men, mangled by the enemy and followed by Krishna, on coming at last out of that throng, looked like the full moon and the sun emerging from the clouds. "'Meanwhile Kunti seeing that her sons were late in returning from their eleemosynary round, was filled with anxiety. She began to think of various evils having overtaken her sons. At one time she thought that the sons of Dhritarashtra having recognised her sons had slain them. Next she feared that some cruel and strong Rakshasas endued with powers of deception had slain them. And she asked herself, "Could the illustrious Vyasa himself (who had directed my sons to come to Panchala) have been guided by perverse intelligence?" Thus reflected Pritha in consequence of her affection for her offspring. Then in the stillness of the late afternoon, Jishnu, accompanied by a body of Brahmanas, entered the abode of the potter, like the cloud-covered sun appearing on a cloudy day.'" SECTION CLXLIII (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then those illustrious sons of Pritha, on returning to the potter's abode, approached their mother. And those first of men represented Yajnaseni unto their mother as the alms they had obtained that day. And Kunti who was there within the room and saw not her sons, replied, saying, "Enjoy ye all (what ye have obtained)." The moment after, she beheld Krishna and then she said, "Oh, what have I said?" And anxious from fear of sin, and reflecting how every one could be extricated from the situation, she took the cheerful Yajnaseni by the hand, and approaching Yudhishthira said, "The daughter of king Yajnasena upon being represented to me by thy younger brothers as the alms they had obtained, from ignorance, O king, I said what was proper, viz., 'Enjoy ye all what hath been obtained.' O thou bull of the Kuru race, tell me how my speech may not become untrue; how sin may not touch the daughter of the king of Panchala, and how also she may not become uneasy."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by his mother that hero among men, that foremost scion of the Kuru race, the intelligent king (Yudhishthira), reflecting for a moment, consoled Kunti, and addressing Dhananjaya, said, "By thee, O Phalguna, hath Yajnaseni been won. It is proper, therefore, that thou shouldst wed her. O thou withstander of all foes, igniting the sacred fire, take thou her hand with due rites." "'Arjuna, hearing this, replied, "O king, do not make me a participator in sin. Thy behest is not conformable to virtue. That is the path followed by the sinful. Thou shouldst wed first, then the strong-armed Bhima of inconceivable feats, then myself, then Nakula, and last of all, Sahadeva endued with great activity. Both Vrikodara and myself, and the twins and this maiden also, all await, O monarch, thy commands. When such is the state of things, do that, after reflection, which would be proper, and conformable to virtue, and productive of fame, and beneficial unto the king of Panchala. All of us are obedient to thee. O, command us as thou likest."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Jishnu, so full of respect and affection, the Pandavas all cast their eyes upon the princess of Panchala. And the princess of Panchala also looked at them all. And casting their glances on the illustrious Krishna, those princes looked at one another. And taking their seats, they began to think of Draupadi alone. Indeed, after those princes of immeasurable energy had looked at Draupadi, the God of Desire invaded their hearts and continued to crush all their senses. As the lavishing beauty of Panchali who had been modelled by the Creator himself, was superior to that of all other women on earth, it could captivate the heart of every creature. And Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, beholding his younger brothers, understood what was passing in their minds. And that bull among men immediately recollected the words of Krishna-Dwaipayana. And the king, then, from fear of a division amongst the brothers, addressing all of them, said, "The auspicious Draupadi shall be the common wife of us all."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The sons of Pandu, then, hearing those words of their eldest brother, began to revolve them in their minds in great cheerfulness. The hero of the Vrishni race (Krishna suspecting the five persons he had seen at the Swayamvara to be none else than the heroes of the Kuru race), came accompanied by the son of Rohini (Valadeva), to the house of the potter where those foremost of men had taken up their quarters. On arriving there, Krishna and Valadeva beheld seated in that potter's house Ajatasanu (Yudhishthira) of well developed and long arms, and his younger brothers passing the splendour of fire sitting around him. Then Vasudeva approaching that foremost of virtuous men--the son of Kunti-- and touching the feet of that prince of the Ajamida race, said, "I am Krishna." And the son of Rohini (Valadeva) also approaching Yudhishthira, did the same. And the Pandavas, beholding Krishna and Valadeva, began to express great delight. And, O thou foremost of the Bharata race, those heroes of the Yadu race thereafter touched also the feet of Kunti, their father's sister. And Ajatasatru, that foremost of the Kuru race, beholding Krishna, enquired after his well-being and asked, "How, O Vasudeva, hast thou been able to trace us, as we are living in disguise?" And Vasudeva, smilingly answered, "O king, fire, even if it is covered, can be known. Who else among men than the Pandavas could exhibit such might? Ye resisters of all foes, ye sons of Pandu, by sheer good fortune have ye escaped from that fierce fire. And it is by sheer good fortune alone that the wicked son of Dhritarashtra and his counsellors have not succeeded in accomplishing their wishes. Blest be ye! And grow ye in prosperity like a fire in a cave gradually growing and spreading itself all around. And lest any of the monarchs recognise ye, let us return to our tent." Then, obtaining Yudhishthira's leave, Krishna of prosperity knowing no decrease, accompanied by Valadeva, hastily went away from the potter's abode.'" SECTION CLXLIV (Swayamvara Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'When the Kuru princes (Bhima and Arjuna) were wending towards the abode of the potter, Dhrishtadyumna, the Panchala prince followed them. And sending away all his attendants, he concealed himself in some part of the potter's house, unknown to the Pandavas. Then Bhima, that grinder of all foes, and Jishnu, and the illustrious twins, on returning from their eleemosynary round in the evening, cheerfully gave everything unto Yudhishthira. Then the kind-hearted Kunti addressing the daughter of Drupada said, "O amiable one, take thou first a portion from this and devote it to the gods and give it away to Brahmanas, and feed those that desire to eat and give unto those who have become our guests. Divide the rest into two halves. Give one of these unto Bhima, O amiable one, for this strong youth of fair complexion--equal unto a king of elephants--this hero always eateth much. And divide the other half into six parts, four for these youths, one for myself, and one for thee." Then the princess hearing those instructive words of her mother-in-law cheerfully did all that she had been directed to do. And those heroes then all ate of the food prepared by Krishna. Then Sahadeva, the son of Madri, endued with great activity, spread on the ground a bed of kusa grass. Then those heroes, each spreading thereon his deer-skin, laid themselves down to sleep. And those foremost of the Kuru princes lay down with heads towards the south. And Kunti laid herself down along the line of their heads, and Krishna along that of their feet. And Krishna though she lay with the sons of Pandu on that bed of kusa grass along the line of their feet as if she were their nether pillow, grieved not in her heart nor thought disrespectfully of those bulls amongst the Kurus. Then those heroes began to converse with one another. And the conversations of those princes, each worthy to lead an army, was exceedingly interesting, they being upon celestial cars and weapons and elephants, and swords and arrows, and battle-axes. And the son of the Panchala king listened (from his place of concealment) unto all they said. And all those who were with him beheld Krishna in that state. "'When morning came, the prince Dhristadyumna set out from his place of concealment with great haste in order to report to Drupada in detail all that had happened at the potter's abode and all that he had heard those heroes speak amongst themselves during the night. The king of Panchala had been sad because he knew not the Pandavas as those who had taken away his daughter. And the illustrious monarch asked Dhristadyumna on his return, "Oh, where hath Krishna gone? Who hath taken her away? Hath any Sudra or anybody of mean descent, or hath a tribute-paying Vaisya by taking my daughter away, placed his dirty foot on my head? O son, hath that wreath of flowers been thrown away on a grave-yard? Hath any Kshatriya of high birth, or any one of the superior order (Brahmana) obtained my daughter? Hath any one of mean descent, by having won Krishna, placed his left foot on my head? I would not, O son, grieve but feel greatly happy, if my daughter hath been united with Partha that foremost of men! O thou exalted one, tell me truly who hath won my daughter today? O, are the sons of that foremost of Kurus, Vichitravirya's son alive? Was it Partha (Arjuna) that took up the bow and shot the mark?"'" SECTION CLXLV (Vaivahika Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed Dhrishtadyumna, that foremost of the Lunar princes, cheerfully said unto his father all that had happened and by whom Krishna had been won. And the prince said, "With large, red eyes, attired in deer-skin, and resembling a celestial in beauty, the youth who strung that foremost of bows and brought down to the ground the mark set on high, was soon surrounded by the foremost of Brahmanas who also offered him their homage for the feat he had achieved. Incapable of bearing the sight of a foe and endued with great activity, he began to exert his prowess. And surrounded by the Brahmanas he resembled the thunder-wielding Indra standing in the midst of the celestials, and the Rishis. And like a she-elephant following the leader of a herd, Krishna cheerfully followed that youth catching hold of his deer-skin. Then when the assembled monarchs incapable of bearing that sight rose up in wrath and advanced for fight, there rose up another hero who tearing up a large tree rushed at that concourse of kings, felling them right and left like Yama himself smiting down creatures endued with life. Then, O monarch, the assembled kings stood motionless and looked at that couple of heroes, while they, resembling the Sun and the Moon, taking Krishna with them, left the amphitheatre and went into the abode of a potter in the suburbs of the town, and there at the potter's abode sat a lady like unto a flame of fire who, I think, is their mother. And around her also sat three other foremost of men each of whom was like unto fire. And the couple of heroes having approached her paid homage unto her feet, and they said unto Krishna also to do the same. And keeping Krishna with her, those foremost of men all went the round of eleemosynary visits. Some time after when they returned, Krishna taking from them what they had obtained as alms, devoted a portion thereof to the gods, and gave another portion away (in gift) to Brahmanas. And of what remained after this, she gave a portion to that venerable lady, and distributed the rest amongst those five foremost of men. And she took a little for herself and ate it last of all. Then, O monarch, they all laid themselves down for sleep, Krishna lying along the line of their feet as their nether pillow. And the bed on which they lay was made of kusa grass upon which was spread their deer-skins. And before going to sleep they talked on diverse subjects in voices deep as of black clouds. The talk of those heroes indicated them to be neither Vaisyas nor Sudras, nor Brahmanas. Without doubt, O monarch, they are bulls amongst Kshatriyas, their discourse having been on military subjects. It seems, O father, that our hope hath been fructified, for we have heard that the sons of Kunti all escaped from the conflagration of the house of lac. From the way in which the mark was shot down by that youth, and the strength with which the bow was strung by him, and the manner in which I have heard them talk with one another proves conclusively, O monarch, that they are the sons of Pritha wandering in disguise." "'Hearing these words of his son, king Drupada became exceedingly glad, and he sent unto them his priest directing him to ascertain who they were and whether they were the sons of the illustrious Pandu. Thus directed, the king's priest went unto them and applauding them all, delivered the king's message duly, saying, "Ye who are worthy of preference in everything, the boon-giving king of the earth--Drupada--is desirous of ascertaining who ye are. Beholding this one who hath shot down the mark, his joy knoweth no bounds. Giving us all particulars of your family and tribe, place ye your feet on the heads of your foes and gladden the hearts of the king of Panchala mid his men and mine also. King Pandu was the dear friend of Drupada and was regarded by him as his counterself. And Drupada had all along cherished the desire of bestowing this daughter of his upon Pandu as his daughter-in-law. Ye heroes of features perfectly faultless, king Drupada hath all along cherished this desire in his heart that Arjuna of strong and long arms might wed this daughter of his according to the ordinance. If that hath become possible, nothing could be better; nothing more beneficial; nothing more conducive to fame and virtue, so far as Drupada is concerned." "'Having said this, the priest remained silent and humbly waited for an answer. Beholding him sitting thus, the king Yudhishthira commanded Bhima who sat near, saying, "Let water to wash his feet with and the Arghya be offered unto this Brahmana. He is king Drupada's priest and, therefore, worthy of great respect. We should worship him with more than ordinary reverence." Then, O monarch, Bhima did as directed. Accepting the worship thus offered unto him, the Brahmana with a joyous heart sat at his ease. Then Yudhishthira addressed him and said, "The king of the Panchalas hath, by fixing a special kind of dower, given away his daughter according to the practice of his order and not freely. This hero hath, by satisfying that demand, won the princess. King Drupada, therefore, hath nothing now to say in regard to the race, tribe, family and disposition of him who hath performed that feat. Indeed, all his queries have been answered by the stringing of the bow and the shooting down of the mark. It is by doing what he had directed that this illustrious hero hath brought away Krishna from among the assembled monarchs. In these circumstances, the king of the Lunar race should not indulge in any regrets which can only make him unhappy without mending matters in the least. The desire that king Drupada hath all along cherished will be accomplished for his handsome princess who beareth, I think, every auspicious mark. None that is weak in strength could string that bow, and none of mean birth and unaccomplished in arms could have shot down the mark. It behoveth not, therefore, the king of the Panchalas to grieve for his daughter today. Nor can anybody in the world undo that act of shooting down the mark. Therefore the king should not grieve for what must take its course." "'While Yudhishthira was saying all this, another messenger from the king of the Panchalas, coming thither in haste, said, "The (nuptial) feast is ready."'" SECTION CLXLVI (Vaivahika Parva continued) "Vaisampayana continued, 'The messenger said, "King Drupada hath, in view of his daughter's nuptials prepared a good feast for the bride-groom's party. Come ye thither after finishing your daily rites. Krishna's wedding will take place there. Delay ye not. These cars adorned with golden lotuses drawn by excellent horses are worthy of kings. Riding on them, come ye into the abode of the king of the Panchalas."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then those bulls among the Kurus, dismissing the priest and causing Kunti and Krishna to ride together on one of those cars, themselves ascended those splendid vehicles and proceeded towards Drupada's palace. Meanwhile, O Bharata, hearing from his priest the words that Yudhishthira had said, king Drupada, in order to ascertain the order to which those heroes belonged, kept ready a large collection of articles (required by the ordinance for the wedding of each of the four orders). And he kept ready fruits, sanctified garlands, and coats of mail, and shields, and carpets, and kine, and seeds, and various other articles and implements of agriculture. And the king also collected, O monarch, every article appertaining to other arts, and various implements and apparatus of every kind of sport. And he also collected excellent coats of mail and shining shields, and swords and scimitars, of fine temper, and beautiful chariots and horses, and first-class bows and well-adorned arrows, and various kinds of missiles ornamented with gold. And he also kept ready darts and rockets and battle-axes and various utensils of war. And there were in that collection beds and carpets and various fine things, and cloths of various sorts. When the party went to Drupada's abode, Kunti taking with her the virtuous Krishna entered the inner apartments of the king. The ladies of the king's household with joyous hearts worshipped the queen of the Kurus. Beholding, O monarch, those foremost of men, each possessing the sportive gait of the lion, with deer-skins for their upper garments, eyes like unto those of mighty bulls, broad shoulders, and long- hanging arms like unto the bodies of mighty snakes, the king, and the king's ministers, and the king's son, and the king's friends and attendants, all became exceedingly glad. Those heroes sat on excellent seats, furnished with footstools without any awkwardness and hesitation. And those foremost of men sat with perfect fearlessness on those costly seats one after another according to the order of their ages. After those heroes were seated, well-dressed servants male and female, and skilful cooks brought excellent and costly viands worthy of kings on gold and silver plates. Then those foremost of men dined on those dishes and became well-pleased. And after the dinner was over, those heroes among men, passing over all other articles, began to observe with interest the various utensils of war. Beholding this, Drupada's son and Drupada himself, along with all his chief ministers of state, understanding the sons of Kunti to be all of royal blood became exceedingly glad.'" SECTION CLXLVII (Vaivahika Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then the illustrious king of Panchala, addressing prince Yudhishthira in the form applicable to Brahmanas, cheerfully enquired of that illustrious son of Kunti, saying, "Are we to know you as Kshatriyas, or Brahamanas, or are we to know you as celestials who disguising themselves as Brahmanas are ranging the earth and come hither for the hand of Krishna? O tell us truly, for we have great doubts! Shall we not be glad when our doubts have been removed? O chastiser of enemies, have the fates been propitious unto us? Tell us the truth willingly! Truth becometh monarchs better than sacrifices and dedications of tanks. Therefore, tell us not what is untrue. O thou of the beauty of a celestial, O chastiser of foes, hearing thy reply I shall make arrangements for my daughter's wedding according to the order to which ye belong." "'Hearing these words of Drupada, Yudhishthira answered, saying "Be not cheerless, O king; let joy fill thy heart! The desire cherished by thee hath certainly been accomplished. We are Kshatriyas, O king, and sons of the illustrious Pandu. Know me to be the eldest of the sons of Kunti and these to be Bhima and Arjuna. By these, O king, was thy daughter won amid the concourse of monarchs. The twins (Nakula and Sahadeva) and Kunti wait where Krishna is. O bull amongst men, let grief be driven from thy heart, for we are Kshatriyas. Thy daughter, O monarch, hath like a lotus been transferred only from one lake into another. O king, thou art our revered superior and chief refuge. I have told thee the whole truth."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing those words, the king Drupada's eyes rolled in ecstasy. And filled with delight the king could not, for some moments answer Yudhishthira. Checking his emotion with great effort, that chastiser of foes at last replied unto Yudhishthira in proper words. The virtuous monarch enquired how the Pandavas had escaped from the town of Varanavata. The son of Pandu told the monarch every particular in detail of their escape from the burning palace of lac. Hearing everything that the son of Kunti said, king Drupada censured Dhritarashtra, that ruler of men. And the monarch gave every assurance unto Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti. And that foremost of eloquent men then and there vowed to restore Yudhishthira to his paternal throne. "'Then Kunti and Krishna and Bhima and Arjuna and the twins, commanded by the king, to reside there, treated by Yajnasena with due respect. Then king Drupada with his sons, assured by all that had happened, approaching Yudhishthira, said, "O thou of mighty arms, let the Kuru prince Arjuna take with due rites, the hand of my daughter on this auspicious day, and let him, therefore, perform the usual initiatory rites of marriage."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Drupada, the virtuous king Yudhishthira replied, saying, "O great king, I also shall have to marry." Hearing him, Drupada said, "If it pleaseth thee, take thou the hand of my daughter thyself with due rites. Or, give Krishna in marriage unto whomsoever of thy brothers thou likest." Yudhishthira said, "Thy daughter, O king, shall be the common wife of us all! Even thus it hath been ordered, O monarch, by our mother. I am unmarried still, and Bhima also is so amongst the sons of Pandu. This thy jewel of a daughter hath been won by Arjuna. This, O king, is the rule with us; to ever enjoy equally a jewel that we may obtain. O best of monarchs, that rule of conduct we cannot now abandon. Krishna, therefore, shall become the wedded wife of us all. Let her take our hands, one after another before the fire." "'Drupada answered, "O scion of Kuru's race, it hath been directed that one man may have many wives. But it hath never been heard that one woman may have many husbands! O son of Kunti, as thou art pure and acquainted with the rules of morality, it behoveth thee not to commit an act that is sinful and opposed both to usage and the Vedas. Why, O prince, hath thy understanding become so?" Yudhishthira said in reply, "O monarch, morality is subtle. We do not know its course. Let us follow the way trodden by the illustrious ones of former ages. My tongue never uttered an untruth. My heart also never turneth to what is sinful. My mother commandeth so; and my heart also approveth of it. Therefore, O king, that is quite conformable to virtue. Act according to it, without any scruples. Entertain no fear, O king, about this matter." "'Drupada said, "O son of Kunti, thy mother, and my son Dhrishtadyumna and thyself, settle amongst yourselves as to what should be done. Tell me the result of your deliberations and tomorrow I will do what is proper."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After this, O Bharata, Yudhishthira, Kunti and Dhrishtadyumna discoursed upon this matter. Just at that time, however, the island-born (Vyasa), O monarch, came there in course of his wanderings.'" SECTION CLXLVIII (Vaivahika Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then all the Pandavas and the illustrious king of the Panchalas and all others there present stood up and saluted with reverence the illustrious Rishi Krishna (Dwaipayana). The high-souled Rishi, saluting them in return and enquiring after their welfare, sat down on a carpet of gold. And commanded by Krishna (Dwaipayana) of immeasurable energy, those foremost of men all sat down on costly seats. A little after, O monarch, the son of Prishata in sweet accents asked the illustrious Rishi about the wedding of his daughter. And he said, "How, O illustrious one, can one woman become the wife of many men without being defiled by sin? O, tell me truly all about this." Hearing these words Vyasa replied, "This practice, O king, being opposed to usage and the Vedas, hath become obsolete. I desire, however, to hear what the opinion of each of you is upon this matter." "'Hearing these words of the Rishi, Drupada spoke first, saying, "The practice is sinful in my opinion, being opposed to both usage and the Vedas. O best of Brahmanas, nowhere have I seen many men having one wife. The illustrious ones also of former ages never had such a usage amongst them. The wise should never commit a sin. I, therefore, can never make up mind to act in this way. This practice always appeareth to me to be of doubtful morality." "'After Drupada had ceased, Dhrishtadyumna spoke, saying "O bull amongst Brahmanas, O thou of ascetic wealth, how can, O Brahmana, the elder brother, if he is of a good disposition, approach the wife of his younger brother? The ways of morality are ever subtle, and, therefore, we know them not. We cannot, therefore, say what is conformable to morality and what not. We cannot do such a deed, therefore, with a safe conscience. Indeed, O Brahmana, I cannot say, 'Let Draupadi become the common wife of five brothers.'" "'Yudhishthira then spoke, saying, "My tongue never uttereth an untruth and my heart never inclineth to what is sinful. When my heart approveth of it, it can never be sinful. I have heard in the Purana that a lady of name Jatila, the foremost of all virtuous women belonging to the race of Gotama had married seven Rishis. So also an ascetic's daughter, born of a tree, had in former times united herself in marriage with ten brothers all bearing the same name of Prachetas and who were all of souls exalted by asceticism. O foremost of all that are acquainted with the rules of morality, it is said that obedience to superior is ever meritorious. Amongst all superiors, it is well-known that the mother is the foremost. Even she hath commanded us to enjoy Draupadi as we do anything obtained as alms. It is for this, O best of Brahmanas, that I regard the (proposed) act as virtuous." "'Kunti then said, "The act is even so as the virtuous Yudhishthira hath said. I greatly fear, O Brahmana, lest my speech should become untrue. How shall I be saved from untruth?" "'When they had all finished speaking, Vyasa said, "O amiable one, how shall thou be saved from the consequence of untruth? Even this is eternal virtue! I will not, O king of the Panchalas, discourse on this before you all. But thou alone shalt listen to me when I disclose how this practice hath been established and why it is to be regarded as old and eternal. There is no doubt that what Yudhishthira hath said is quite conformable to virtue."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then the illustrious Vyasa--the master Dwaipayana--rose, and taking hold of Drupada's hand led him to a private apartment. The Pandavas and Kunti and Dhrishtadyumna of Prishata's race sat there, waiting for the return of Vyasa and Drupada. Meanwhile, Dwaipayana began his discourse with illustrious monarch for explaining how the practice of polyandry could not be regarded as sinful.'" SECTION CLXLIX (Vaivahika Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Vyasa continued, "In days of yore, the celestials had once commenced a grand sacrifice in the forest of Naimisha. At that sacrifice, O king, Yama, the son of Vivaswat, became the slayer of the devoted animals. Yama, thus employed in that sacrifice, did not (during that period), O king, kill a single human being. Death being suspended in the world, the number of human beings increased very greatly. Then Soma and Sakra and Varuna and Kuvera, the Sadhyas, the Rudras, the Vasus, the twin Aswins,--these and other celestials went unto Prajapati, the Creator of the universe. Struck with fear for the increase of the human population of the world they addressed the Master of creation and said, 'Alarmed, O lord, at the increase of human beings on earth, we come to thee for relief. Indeed, we crave thy protection.' Hearing those words the Grandsire said, 'Ye have little cause to be frightened at this increase of human beings. Ye all are immortal. It behoveth you not to take fright at human beings.' The celestials replied, 'The mortals have all become immortal. There is no distinction now between us and them. Vexed at the disappearance of all distinction, we have come to thee in order that thou mayest distinguish us from them.' The Creator then said, 'The son of Vivaswat is even now engaged in the grand sacrifice. It is for this that men are not dying. But when Yama's work in connection with the sacrifice terminates, men will again begin to die as before. Strengthened by your respective energies, Yama will, when that time comes, sweep away by thousands the inhabitants on earth who will scarcely have then any energy left in them.'" "'Vyasa continued, "Hearing these words of the first-born deity, the celestials returned to the spot where the grand sacrifice was being performed. And the mighty one sitting by the side of the Bhagirathi saw a (golden) lotus being carried along by the current. And beholding that (golden) lotus, they wondered much. And amongst them, that foremost of celestials, viz., Indra, desirous of ascertaining whence it came, proceeded up along the course of the Bhagirathi. And reaching that spot whence the goddess Ganga issues perennially, Indra beheld a woman possessing the splendour of fire. The woman who had come there to take water was washing in the stream, weeping all the while. The tear-drops she shed, falling on the stream, were being transformed into golden lotuses. The wielder of the thunderbolt, beholding that wonderful sight, approached the woman and asked her, 'Who art thou, amiable lady? Why dost thou weep? I desire to know the truth. O, tell me everything.'" "'Vyasa continued, "The woman thereupon answered, 'O Sakra, thou mayest know who I am and why, unfortunate that I am, I weep, if only, O chief of the celestials, thou comest with me as I lead the way. Thou shall then see what it is I weep for.' Hearing these words of the lady, Indra followed her as she led the way. And soon he saw, not far off from where he was, a handsome youth with a young lady seated on a throne placed on one of the peaks of Himavat and playing at dice. Beholding that youth, the chief of the celestials said, 'Know, intelligent youth, that this universe is under my sway.' Seeing, however, that the person addressed was so engrossed in dice that he took no notice of what he said, Indra was possessed by anger and repeated, 'I am the lord of the universe.' The youth who was none else than the god Mahadeva (the god of the gods), seeing Indra filled with wrath, only smiled, having cast a glance at him. At that glance, however, the chief of the celestials was at once paralysed and stood there like a stake. When the game at dice was over, Isana addressing the weeping woman said, 'Bring Sakra hither, for I shall soon so deal with him that pride may not again enter his heart.' As soon as Sakra was touched by that woman, the chief of the celestials with limbs paralysed by that touch, fell down on the earth. The illustrious Isana of fierce energy then said unto him, 'Act not, O Sakra, ever again in this way. Remove this huge stone, for thy strength and energy are immeasurable, and enter the hole (it will disclose) where await some others possessing the splendour of the sun and who are all like unto thee.' Indra, then, on removing that stone, beheld a cave in the breast of that king of mountains, within which were four others resembling himself. Beholding their plight, Sakra became seized with grief and exclaimed, 'Shall I be even like these?' Then the god Girisha, looking full at Indra with expanded eyes, said in anger, 'O thou of a hundred sacrifices, enter this cave without loss of time, for thou hast from folly insulted me.' Thus addressed by the lord Isana, the chief of the celestials, in consequence of that terrible imprecation, was deeply pained, and with limbs weakened by fear trembled like the wind-shaken leaf of a Himalayan fig. And cursed unexpectedly by the god owning a bull for his vehicle, Indra, with joined hands and shaking from head to foot, addressed that fierce god of multi-form manifestations, saying, 'Thou art, O Bhava, the over-looker of the infinite Universe!' Hearing these words the god of fiery energy smiled and said, 'Those that are of disposition like thine never obtain my grace. These others (within the cave) had at one time been like thee. Enter thou this cave, therefore, and lie there for some time. The fate of you all shall certainly be the same. All of you shall have to take your birth in the world of men, where, having achieved many difficult feats and slaying a large number of men, ye shall again by the merits of your respective deeds, regain the valued region of Indra. Ye shall accomplish all I have said and much more besides, of other kinds of work.' Then those Indras, of their shorn glory said, 'We shall go from our celestial regions even unto the region of men where salvation is ordained to be difficult of acquisition. But let the gods Dharma, Vayu, Maghavat, and the twin Aswins beget us upon our would-be mother. Fighting with men by means of both celestial and human weapons, we shall again come back into the region of Indra.'" "'Vyasa continued, "Hearing these words of the former Indras, the wielder of the thunderbolt once more addressed that foremost of gods, saying, 'Instead of going myself, I shall, with a portion of my energy, create from myself a person for the accomplishment of the task (thou assignest) to form the fifth among these!' Vishwabhuk, Bhutadhaman, Sivi of great energy, Santi the fourth, and Tejaswin, these it is said were the five Indras of old. And the illustrious god of the formidable bow, from his kindness, granted unto the five Indras the desire they cherished. And he also appointed that woman of extraordinary beauty, who was none else than celestial Sri (goddess of grace) herself, to be their common wife in the world of men. Accompanied by all those Indras, the god Isana then went unto Narayana of immeasurable energy, the Infinite, the Immaterial, the Uncreate, the Old, the Eternal, and the Spirit of these universes without limits. Narayana approved of everything. Those Indras then were born in the world of men. And Hari (Narayana) took up two hairs from his body, one of which hairs was black and the other white. And those two hairs entered the wombs of two of the Yadu race, by name Devaki and Rohini. And one of these hairs viz., that which was white, became Valadeva. And the hair that was black was born as Kesava's self, Krishna. And those Indras of old who had been confined in the cave on the Himavat are none else than the sons of Pandu, endued with great energy. And Arjuna amongst the Pandavas, called also Savyasachin (using both hands with equal dexterity) is a portion of Sakra." "'Vyasa continued, "Thus, O king, they who have been born as the Pandavas are none else than those Indras of old. And the celestial Sri herself who had been appointed as their wife is this Draupadi of extraordinary beauty. How could she whose effulgence is like that of the sun or the moon, whose fragrance spreads for two miles around, take her birth in any other than an extraordinary way, viz., from within the earth, by virtue of the sacrificial rites? Unto thee, O king, I cheerfully grant this other boon in the form of spiritual sight. Behold now the sons of Kunti endued with their sacred and celestial bodies of old!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Saying this, that sacred Brahmana Vyasa of generous deeds, by means of his ascetic power, granted celestial sight unto the king. Thereupon the king beheld all the Pandavas endued with their former bodies. And the king saw them possessed of celestial bodies, with golden crowns and celestial garlands, and each resembling Indra himself, with complexions radiant as fire or the sun, and decked with every ornament, and handsome, and youthful, with broad chests and statures measuring about five cubits. Endued with every accomplishment, and decked with celestial robes of great beauty and fragrant garlands of excellent making the king beheld them as so many three-eyed gods (Mahadeva), or Vasus, or Rudras, or Adityas themselves. And observing the Pandavas in the forms of those Indras of old, and Arjuna also in the form of Indra sprung from Sakra himself, king Drupada was highly pleased. And the monarch wondered much on beholding that manifestation of celestial power under deep disguise. The king looking at his daughter, that foremost of women endued with great beauty, like unto a celestial damsel and possessed of the splendour of fire or the moon, regarded her as the worthy wife of those celestial beings, for her beauty, splendour and fame. And beholding that wonderful sight, the monarch touched the feet of Satyavati's son, exclaiming, "O great Rishi, nothing is miraculous in thee!" The Rishi then cheerfully continued, "In a certain hermitage there was an illustrious Rishi's daughter, who, though handsome and chaste, obtained not a husband. The maiden gratified, by severe ascetic penances, the god Sankara (Mahadeva). The lord Sankara, gratified at her penances, told her himself, 'Ask thou the boon thou desirest.' Thus addressed, the maiden repeatedly said unto the boon-giving Supreme Lord, 'I desire to obtain a husband possessed of every accomplishment.' Sankara, the chief of the gods, gratified with her, gave her the boon she asked, saying, 'Thou shall have, amiable maiden, five husbands.' The maiden, who had succeeded in gratifying the god, said again, 'O Sankara, I desire to have from thee only one husband possessed of every virtue.' The god of gods, well-pleased with her, spake again, saying, 'Thou hast, O maiden, addressed me five full times, repeating, "Give me a husband." Therefore, O amiable one, it shall even be as thou hast asked. Blessed be thou. All this, however, will happen in a future life of thine!'" "'Vyasa continued, "O Drupada, this thy daughter of celestial beauty is that maiden. Indeed, the faultless Krishna sprung from Prishata's race hath been pre-ordained to become the common wife of five husbands. The celestial Sri, having undergone severe ascetic penances, hath, for the sake of the Pandavas, had her birth as thy daughter, in the course of thy grand sacrifice. That handsome goddess, waited upon by all the celestials, as a consequence of her own acts becomes the (common) wife of five husbands. It is for this that the self-create had created her. Having listened to all this, O king Drupada, do what thou desirest."'" SECTION CC (Vaivahika Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Drupada, on hearing this, observed, "O great Rishi, it was only when I had not heard this from thee that I had sought to act in the way I told thee of. Now, however, that I know all, I cannot be indifferent to what hath been ordained by the gods. Therefore do I resolve to accomplish what thou hast said. The knot of destiny cannot be untied. Nothing in this world is the result of our own acts. That which had been appointed by us in view of securing one only bridegroom hath now terminated in favour of many. As Krishna (in a former life) had repeatedly said, 'O, give me a husband!' the great god himself even gave her the boon she had asked. The god himself knows the right or wrong of this. As regards myself, when Sankara hath ordained so, right or wrong, no sin can attach to me. Let these with happy hearts take, as ordained, the hand of Krishna with the rites."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then the illustrious Vyasa, addressing Yudhishthira the just, said, "This day is an auspicious day, O son of Pandu! This day the moon has entered the constellation called Pushya. Take thou the hand of Krishna today, thyself first before thy brothers!" When Vyasa had said so, king Yajnasena and his son made preparations for the wedding. And the monarch kept ready various costly articles as marriage presents. Then he brought out his daughter Krishna, decked, after a bath, with many jewels and pearls. Then there came to witness the wedding all the friends and relatives of the king, ministers of state, and many Brahmanas and citizens. And they all took their seats according to their respective ranks. Adorned with that concourse of principal men, with its yard decked with lotuses and lilies scattered thereupon, and beautified with lines of troops, king Drupada's palace, festooned around with diamonds and precious stones, looked like the firmament studded with brilliant stars. Then those princes of the Kuru line, endued with youth and adorned with ear-rings, attired in costly robes and perfumed with sandal-paste, bathed and performed the usual religious rites and accompanied by their priest Dhaumya who was possessed of the splendour of fire, entered the wedding hall one after another in due order, and with glad hearts, like mighty bulls entering a cow-pen. Then Dhaumya, well- conversant with the Vedas, igniting the sacred fire, poured with due mantras libations of clarified butter into that blazing element. And calling Yudhishthira there, Dhaumya, acquainted with mantras, united him with Krishna. Walking round the fire the bridegroom and the bride took each other's hand. After their union was complete, the priest Dhaumya, taking leave of Yudhishthira, that ornament of battles, went out of the palace. Then those mighty car-warriors,--those perpetuators of the Kuru line,--those princes attired in gorgeous dresses, took the hand of that best of women, day by day in succession, aided by that priest. O king, the celestial Rishi told me of a very wonderful and extraordinary thing in connection with these marriages, viz., that the illustrious princess of slender waist regained her virginity every day after a previous marriage. After the weddings were over, king Drupada gave unto those mighty car- warriors diverse kinds of excellent wealth. And the king gave unto them one hundred cars with golden standards, each drawn by four steeds with golden bridles. And he gave them one hundred elephants all possessing auspicious marks on their temples and faces and like unto a hundred mountains with golden peaks. He also gave them a hundred female servants all in the prime of youth and clad in costly robes and ornaments and floral wreaths. And the illustrious monarch of the Lunar race gave unto each of those princes of celestial beauty, making the sacred fire a witness of his gifts, much wealth and many costly robes and ornaments of great splendour. The sons of Pandu endued with great strength, after their wedding were over, and after they had obtained Krishna like unto a second Sri along with great wealth, passed their days in joy and happiness, like so many Indras, in the capital of the king of the Panchalas.'" SECTION CCI (Vaivahika Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'King Drupada, after his alliance with the Pandavas, had all his fears dispelled. Indeed, the monarch no longer stood in fear even of the gods. The ladies of the illustrious Drupada's household approached Kunti and introduced themselves unto her, mentioning their respective names, and worshipped her feet with heads touching the ground. Krishna also, attired in red silk and her wrists still encircled with the auspicious thread, saluting her mother-in-law with reverence, stood contentedly before her with joined palms. Pritha, out of affection, pronounced a blessing upon her daughter-in-law endued with great beauty and every auspicious mark and possessed of a sweet disposition and good character, saying, "Be thou unto thy husband as Sachi unto Indra, Swaha unto Vibhavasu, Rohini unto Soma, Damayanti unto Nala, Bhadra unto Vaisravana, Arundhati unto Vasishtha, Lakshmi unto Narayana! O amiable one, be thou the mother of long-lived and heroic children, and possessed of everything that can make thee happy! Let luck and prosperity ever wait on thee! Wait thou ever on husbands engaged in the performance of grand sacrifices. Be thou devoted to thy husbands. And let thy days be ever passed in duly entertaining and reverencing guests and strangers arrived at thy abode, and the pious and the old; children and superiors. Be thou installed as the Queen of the kingdom and the capital of Kurujangala, with thy husband Yudhishthira the just! O daughter, let the whole earth, conquered by the prowess of thy husbands endued with great strength, be given away by thee unto Brahmanas at horse-sacrifice! O accomplished one whatever gems there are on earth possessed of superior virtues, obtain them, O lucky one, and be thou happy for a full hundred years! And, O daughter-in-law, as I rejoice today beholding thee attired in red silk, so shall I rejoice again, when, O accomplished one, I behold thee become the mother of a son!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After the sons of Pandu had been married, Hari (Krishna) sent unto them (as presents) various gold ornaments set with pearls and black gems (lapis lazuli). And Madhava (Krishna) also sent unto them costly robes manufactured in various countries, and many beautiful and soft blankets and hides of great value, and many costly beds and carpets and vehicles. He also sent them vessels by hundreds, set with gems and diamonds. And Krishna also gave them female servants by thousands, brought from various countries, and endued with beauty, youth and accomplishments and decked with every ornament. He also gave them many well-trained elephants brought from the country of Madra, and many excellent horses in costly harness, cars drawn by horses of excellent colours and large teeth. The slayer of Madhu, of immeasurable soul, also sent them coins of pure gold by crores upon crores in separate heaps. And Yudhishthira the just, desirous of gratifying Govinda, accepted all those presents with great joy.'" SECTION CCII (Viduragamana Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'The news was carried unto all the monarchs (who had come to the Self-choice of Draupadi) by their trusted spies that the handsome Draupadi had been united in marriage with the sons of Pandu. And they were also informed that the illustrious hero who had bent the bow and shot the mark was none else than Arjuna, that foremost of victorious warriors and first of all wielders of the bow and arrows. And it became known that the mighty warrior who had dashed Salya, the king of Madra, on the ground, and who in wrath had terrified the assembled monarchs by means of the tree (he had uprooted), and who had taken his stand before all foes in perfect fearlessness, was none else than Bhima, that feller of hostile ranks, whose touch alone was sufficient to take the lives out of all foes. The monarchs, upon being informed that the Pandavas had assumed the guise of peaceful Brahmanas, wondered much. They even heard that Kunti with all her sons had been burnt to death in the conflagration of the house of lac. They, therefore, now regarded the Pandavas in the light of persons who had come back from the region of the dead. And recollecting the cruel scheme contrived by Purochana, they began to say, "O, fie on Bhishma, fie on Dhritarashtra of the Kuru race!" "'After the Self-choice was over, all the monarchs (who had come thither), hearing that Draupadi had been united with the Pandavas, set out for their own dominions. And Duryodhana, hearing that Draupadi had selected the owner of white steeds (Arjuna) as her lord, became greatly depressed. Accompanied by his brothers, Aswatthaman, his uncle (Sakuni), Karna and Kripa the prince set out with a heavy heart for his capital. Then Duhsasana, blushing with shame, addressed his brother softly and said, "If Arjuna had not disguised himself as a Brahmana, he could never have succeeded in obtaining Draupadi. It was for this disguise, O king, that no one could recognise him as Dhananjaya. Fate, I ween, is ever supreme. Exertion is fruitless; fie on our exertions, O brother! The Pandavas are still alive!" Speaking unto one another thus and blaming Purochana (for his carelessness), they then entered the city of Hastinapura, with cheerless and sorrowful hearts. Beholding the mighty sons of Pritha, escaped from the burning house of lac and allied with Drupada, and thinking of Dhrishtadyumna and Sikhandin and the other sons of Drupada all accomplished in fight, they were struck with fear and overcome with despair. "'Then Vidura, having learnt that Draupadi had been won by the Pandavas and that the sons of Dhritarashtra had come back (to Hastinapura) in shame, their pride humiliated, became filled with joy. And, O king, approaching Dhritarashtra, Kshattri said, "The Kurus are prospering by good luck!" Hearing those words of Vidura, the son of Vichitravirya, wondering, said in great glee, "What good luck, O Vidura! What good luck!" From ignorance, the blind monarch understood that his eldest son Duryodhana had been chosen by Drupada's daughter as her lord. And the king immediately ordered various ornaments to be made for Draupadi. And he commanded that both Draupadi and his son Duryodhana should be brought with pomp to Hastinapura. It was then that Vidura told the monarch that Draupadi had chosen the Pandavas for her lords, and that those heroes were all alive and at peace, and that they had been received with great respect by king Drupada. And he also informed Dhritarashtra that the Pandavas had been united with the many relatives and friends of Drupada, each owning large armies, and with many others who had come to that self-choice. "'Hearing these words of Vidura, Dhritarashtra said, "Those children are to me as dear as they were to Pandu. Nay, more. O listen to me why my affection for them now is even greater! The heroic sons of Pandu are well and at ease. They have obtained many friends. Their relatives, and others whom they have gained as allies, are all endued with great strength. Who amongst monarchs in prosperity or adversity would not like to have Drupada with his relatives as an ally?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having heard these words of the monarch, Vidura said, "O king, let thy understanding remain so without change for a hundred years!" Having said this Vidura returned to his own abode. Then, O monarch, there came unto Dhritarashtra, Duryodhana and the son of Radha, Karna. Addressing the monarch, they said, "We cannot, O king, speak of any transgression in the presence of Vidura! We have now found thee alone, and will, therefore, say all we like! What is this that thou hast, O monarch, desired to do? Dost thou regard the prosperity of thy foes as if it were thy own, that thou hast been applauding the Pandavas, O foremost of men, in the presence of Vidura? O sinless one, thou actest not, O king, in the way thou shouldst! O father, we should now act every day in such a way as to weaken (the strength of) the Pandavas. The time hath come, O father, for us to take counsel together, so that the Pandavas may not swallow us all with our children and friends and relatives."'" SECTION CCIII (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Dhritarashtra replied saying, "I desire to do exactly what you would recommend. But I do not wish to inform Vidura of it even by a change of muscle. It was, therefore, O son, that I was applauding the Pandavas in Vidura's presence, so that he might not know even by a sign what is in my mind. Now that Vidura hath gone away, this is the time, O Suyodhana (Duryodhana), for telling me what thou hast hit upon, and what, O Radheya (Karna), thou too hast hit upon." "'Duryodhana said. "Let us, O father, by means of trusted and skilful and adroit Brahmanas, seek to produce dissensions between the sons of Kunti and Madri. Or, let king Drupada and his sons, and all his ministers of state, be plied with presents of large wealth, so that they may abandon the cause of Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti. Or, let our spies induce the Pandavas to settle in Drupada's dominions, by describing to them, separately, the inconvenience of residing in Hastinapura, so that, separated from us, they may permanently settle in Panchala. Or, let some clever spies, full of resources, sowing the seeds of dissension among the Pandavas, make them jealous of one another. Or, let them incite Krishna against her husbands. She has many lords and this will not present any difficulty. Or, let some seek to make the Pandavas themselves dissatisfied with Krishna, in which case Krishna also will be dissatisfied with them. Or, let, O king, some clever spies, repairing thither, secretly compass the death of Bhimasena. Bhima is the strongest of them all. Relying upon Bhima alone, the Pandavas used to disregard us, of old. Bhima is fierce and brave and the (sole) refuge of the Pandavas. If he be slain, the others will be deprived of strength and energy. Deprived of Bhima who is their sole refuge, they will no longer strive to regain their kingdom. Arjuna, O king, is invincible in battle, if Bhima protecteth him from behind. Without Bhima, Arjuna is not equal to even a fourth part of Radheya. Indeed, O king, the Pandavas conscious of their own feebleness without Bhima and of our strength would not really strive to recover the kingdom. Or, if, O monarch, coming hither, they prove docile and obedient to us, we would then seek to repress them according to the dictates of political science (as explained by Kanika). Or, we may tempt them by means of handsome girls, upon which the princess of Panchala will get annoyed with them. Or, O Radheya, let messengers be despatched to bring them hither, so that, when arrived, we may through trusted agents, by some of the above methods, cause them to be slain. Strive, O father, to employ any of these (various) methods that may appear to thee faultless. Time passeth. Before their confidence in king Drupada--that bull amongst kings--is established we may succeed, O monarch, to encounter them. But after their confidence hath been established in Drupada, we are sure to fail. These, O father, are my views for the discomfiture of the Pandavas. Judge whether they be good or bad. What, O Karna, dost thou think?"'" SECTION CCIV (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by Duryodhana, Karna said, "It doth not seem to me, O Duryodhana, that thy reasoning is well-founded. O perpetuator of the Kuru race, no method will succeed against the Pandavas. O brave prince, thou hast before, by various subtle means, striven to carry out thy wishes. But ever hast thou failed to slay thy foes. They were then living near thee, O king! They were then unfledged and of tender years, but thou couldst not injure them then. They are now living at a distance, grown up, full-fledged. The sons of Kunti, O thou of firm resolution, cannot now be injured by any subtle contrivances of thine. This is my opinion. As they are aided by the very Fates, and as they are desirous of regaining their ancestral kingdom, we can never succeed in injuring them by any means in our power. It is impossible to create disunion amongst them. They can never be disunited who have all taken to a common wife. Nor can we succeed in estranging Krishna from the Pandavas by any spies of ours. She chose them as her lords when they were in adversity. Will she abandon them now that they are in prosperity? Besides women always like to have many husbands, Krishna hath obtained her wish. She can never be estranged from the Pandavas. The king of Panchala is honest and virtuous; he is not avaricious. Even if we offer him our whole kingdom he will not abandon the Pandavas. Drupada's son also possesseth every accomplishment, and is attached to the Pandavas. Therefore, I do not think that the Pandavas can now be injured by any subtle means in thy power. But, O bull amongst men, this is what is good and advisable for us now, viz., to attack and smite them till they are exterminated. Let this course recommend itself to thee. As long as our party is strong and that of the king of the Panchalas is weak, so long strike them without any scruple. O son of Gandhari, as long as their innumerable vehicles and animals, friends, and friendly tribes are not mustered together, continue, O king, to exhibit thy prowess. As long as the king of the Panchalas together with his sons gifted with great prowess, setteth not his heart upon fighting with us, so long, O king, exhibit thy prowess. And, O king, exert thy prowess before he of the Vrishni race (Krishna) cometh with the Yadava host into the city of Drupada, carrying everything before him, to restore the Pandavas to their paternal kingdom. Wealth, every article of enjoyment, kingdom, there is nothing that Krishna may not sacrifice for the sake of the Pandavas. The illustrious Bharata had acquired the whole earth by his prowess alone. Indra hath acquired sovereignty of the three worlds by prowess alone. O king, prowess is always applauded by the Kshatriyas. O bull amongst Kshatriyas, prowess is the cardinal virtue of the brave. Let us, therefore, O monarch, with our large army consisting of four kinds of forces, grind Drupada without loss of time, and bring hither the Pandavas. Indeed, the Pandavas are incapable of being discomfited by any policy of conciliation, of gift, of wealth and bribery, or of disunion. Vanquish them, therefore, by thy prowess. And vanquishing them by thy prowess, rule thou this wide earth. O monarch, I see not any other means by which we may accomplish our end."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Radheya, Dhritarashtra, endued with great strength, applauded him highly. The monarch then addressed him and said, "Thou, O son of a Suta, art gifted with great wisdom and accomplished in arms. This speech, therefore, favouring the exhibition of prowess suiteth thee well. But let Bhishma, and Drona, and Vidura, and you two, take counsel together and adopt that proposal which may lead to our benefit."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then king Dhritarashtra called unto him, all those celebrated ministers and took counsel with them.'" SECTION CCV (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Asked by Dhritarashtra to give his opinion, Bhishma replied, "O Dhritarashtra, a quarrel with the Pandavas is what I can never approve of. As thou art to me, so was Pandu without doubt. And the sons of Gandhari are to me, as those of Kunti. I should protect them as well as I should thy sons, O Dhritarashtra! And, O king, the Pandavas are as much near to me as they are to prince Duryodhana or to all the other Kurus. Under these circumstances a quarrel with them is what I never like. Concluding a treaty with those heroes, let half the land be given unto them. This is without doubt, the paternal kingdom of those foremost ones of the Kuru race. And, O Duryodhana, like thee who lookest upon this kingdom as thy paternal property, the Pandavas also look upon it as their paternal possession. If the renowned sons of Pandu obtain not the kingdom, how can it be thine, or that of any other descendant of the Bharata race? If thou regardest thyself as one that hath lawfully come into the possession of the kingdom, I think they also may be regarded to have lawfully come into the possession of this kingdom before thee. Give them half the kingdom quietly. This, O tiger among men, is beneficial to all. If thou actest otherwise, evil will befall us all. Thou too shall be covered with dishonour. O Duryodhana, strive to maintain thy good name. A good name is, indeed, the source of one's strength. It hath been said that one liveth in vain whose reputation hath gone. A man, O Kaurava, doth not die so long as his fame lasteth. One liveth as long as one's fame endureth, and dieth when one's fame is gone. Follow thou, O son of Gandhari, the practice that is worthy of the Kuru race. O thou of mighty arms, imitate thy own ancestors. We are fortunate that the Pandavas have not perished. We are fortunate that Kunti liveth. We are fortunate that the wretch Purochana without being able to accomplish his purpose hath himself perished. From that time when I heard that the sons of Kuntibhoja's daughter had been burnt to death, I was, O son of Gandhari, ill able to meet any living creature. O tiger among men, hearing of the fate that overtook Kunti, the world doth not regard Purochana so guilty as it regardeth thee. O king, the escape, therefore, of the sons of Pandu with life from that conflagration and their re-appearance, do away with thy evil repute. Know, O thou of Kuru's race, that as long as those heroes live, the wielder of the thunder himself cannot deprive them of their ancestral share in the kingdom. The Pandavas are virtuous and united. They are being wrongly kept out of their equal share in the kingdom. If thou shouldst act rightly, if thou shouldst do what is agreeable to me, if thou shouldst seek the welfare of all, then give half the kingdom unto them."'" SECTION CCVI (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After Bhishma had concluded, Drona spoke, saying, "O king Dhritarashtra, it hath been heard by us that friends summoned for consultation should always speak what is right, true, and conductive to fame. O sire, I am of the same mind in this matter with the illustrious Bhishma. Let a share of the kingdom be given unto the Pandavas. This is eternal virtue. Send, O Bharata, unto Drupada without loss of time some messenger of agreeable speech, carrying with him a large treasure for the Pandavas. And let the man go unto Drupada carrying costly presents for both the bridegrooms and the bride, and let him speak unto that monarch of thy increase of power and dignity arising from this new alliance with him. And, O monarch, let the man know also that both thyself and Duryodhana have become exceedingly glad in consequence of what hath happened. Let him say this repeatedly unto Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna. And let him speak also about the alliance as having been exceedingly proper, and agreeable unto thee, and of thyself being worthy of it. And let the man repeatedly propitiate the sons of Kunti and those of Madri (in proper words). And at thy command, O king, let plenty of ornaments of pure gold be given unto Draupadi. And let, O bull of Bharata's race, proper presents be given unto all the sons of Drupada. Let the messenger then propose the return of the Pandavas to Hastinapura. After the heroes will have been permitted (by Drupada), to come hither, let Duhsasana and Vikarna go out with a handsome train to receive them. And when they will have arrived at Hastinapura, let those foremost of men be received with affection by thee. And let them then be installed on their paternal throne, agreeably to the wishes of the people of the realm. This, O monarch of Bharata's race, is what I think should be thy behaviour towards the Pandavas who are to thee even as thy own sons."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After Drona had ceased, Karna spake again, "Both Bhishma and Drona have been pampered with wealth that is thine and favours conferred by thee! They are also always regarded by thee as thy trusted friends! What can therefore be more amusing than that they both should give thee advice which is not for thy good? How can the wise approve that advice which is pronounced good by a person speaking with wicked intent but taking care to conceal the wickedness of his heart? Indeed, in a season of distress, friends can neither benefit nor injure. Every one's happiness or the reverse dependeth on destiny. He that is wise and he that is foolish, he that is young (in years) and he that is old, he that hath allies and he that hath none, all become, it is seen everywhere, happy or unhappy at times. It hath been heard by us that there was, of old, a king by name Amvuvicha. Having his capital at Rajagriha, he was the king of all the Magadha chiefs. He never attended to his affairs. All his exertion consisted in inhaling the air. All his affairs were in the hands of his minister. And his minister, named Mahakarni, became the supreme authority in the state. Regarding himself all powerful, he began to disregard the king. And the wretch himself appropriated everything belonging unto the king, his queens and treasures and sovereignty. But the possession of all these, instead of satisfying his avarice, only served to inflame him the more. Having appropriated everything belonging to the king, he even coveted the throne. But it hath been heard by us that with all his best endeavours he succeeded not in acquiring the kingdom of the monarch, his master, even though the latter was inattentive to business and content with only breathing the air. What else can be said, O king, than that monarch's sovereignty was dependent on destiny? If, therefore, O king, this kingdom be established in thee by destiny, it will certainly continue in thee, even if the whole world were to become thy enemy! If, however, destiny hath ordained otherwise, howsoever mayest thou strive, it will not last in thee! O learned one, remembering all this, judge of the honesty or otherwise of thy advisers. Ascertain also who amongst them are wicked and who have spoken wisely and well."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Karna, Drona replied, "As thou art wicked it is evident thou sayest so in consequence of the wickedness of thy intent. It is for injuring the Pandavas that thou findest fault with us. But know, O Karna, what I have said is for the good of all and the prosperity of the Kuru race. If thou regardest all this as productive of evil, declare thyself what is for our good. If the good advice I have given be not followed, I think the Kurus will be exterminated in no time."'" SECTION CCVII (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'After Drona had ceased, Vidura spoke, saying, "O monarch, thy friends without doubt, are saying unto thee what is for thy good. But as thou art unwilling to listen to what they say, their words scarcely find a place in thy ears. What that foremost one of Kuru's race, viz., Bhishma, the son of Santanu, hath said, is excellent and is for thy good. But thou dost not listen to it. The preceptor Drona also hath said much that is for thy good which however Karna, the son of Radha, doth not regard to be such. But, O king, reflecting hard I do not find any one who is better a friend to thee than either of these two lions among men (viz., Bhishma and Drona), or any one who excels either of them in wisdom. These two, old in years, in wisdom, and in learning, always regard thee, O king, and the sons of Pandu with equal eyes. Without doubt, O king of Bharata's race, they are both, in virtue and truthfulness, not inferior to Rama, the son of Dasaratha, and Gaya. Never before did they give thee any evil advice. Thou also, O monarch, hast never done them any injury. Why should, therefore, these tigers among men, who are ever truthful, give thee wicked advice, especially when thou hast never injured them? Endued with wisdom these foremost of men, O king, will never give thee counsels that are crooked. O scion of Kuru's race, this is my firm conviction that these two, acquainted with all rules of morality, will never, tempted by wealth, utter anything betraying a spirit of partisanship. What they have said, O Bharata, I regard highly beneficial to thee. Without doubt, O monarch, the Pandavas are thy sons as much as Duryodhana and others are. Those ministers, therefore, that give thee any counsel fraught with evil unto the Pandavas, do not really look to thy interests. If there is any partiality in thy heart, O king, for thy own children, they who by their counsel seek to bring it out, certainly do thee no good. Therefore, O king, these illustrious persons endued with great splendour, have not I think, said anything that leadeth to evil. Thou, however, dost not understand it. What these bulls among men have said regarding the invincibility of the Pandavas is perfectly true. Think not otherwise of it, O tiger among men. Blest be thou! Can the handsome Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu, using the right and the left hand with equal activity, be vanquished in battle even by Maghavat himself? Can the great Bhimasena of strong arms possessing the might of ten thousand elephants, be vanquished in battle by the immortals themselves? Who also that desireth to live can overcome in battle the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva) like unto the sons of Yama himself, and well- skilled in fight? How too can the eldest one of the Pandavas in whom patience, mercy, forgiveness, truth, and prowess always live together, be vanquished? They who have Rama (Valadeva) as their ally, and Janardana (Krishna) as their counsellor, and Satyaki as their partisan, have already defeated everybody in war. They who have Drupada for their father-in-law, and Drupada's sons--the heroic brothers, viz., Dhristadyumna and others of Prishata's race for their brothers-in-law, are certainly invincible. Remembering this, O monarch, and knowing that their claim to the kingdom is even prior to thine, behave virtuously towards them. The stain of calumny is on thee, O monarch, in consequence of that act of Purochana. Wash thyself of it now, by a kindly behaviour towards the Pandavas. This kindly behaviour of thine, O monarch, towards the Pandavas will be an act of great benefit to us, protecting the lives of us all that belong to Kuru's race, and leading to the growth of the whole Kshatriya order! We had formerly warred with king Drupada; if we can now secure him as an ally, it will strengthen our party. The Dasarhas, O king, are numerous and strong. Know where Krishna is, all of them must be, and where Krishna is, there victory also must be! O king, who, unless cursed by the gods, would seek, to effect that by means of war which can be effected by conciliation? Hearing that the sons of Pritha are alive, the citizens and other subjects of the realm have become exceedingly glad and eager for beholding them. O monarch, act in a way that is agreeable to them. Duryodhana and Karna and Sakuni, the son of Suvala, are sinful, foolish and young; listen not to them. Possessed of every virtue thou art. I long ago told thee, O monarch that for Duryodhana's fault, the subjects of this kingdom would be exterminated."'" SECTION CCVIII (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these various speeches, Dhritarashtra said, "The learned Bhishma, the son of Santanu, and the illustrious Rishi Drona, and thyself also (O Vidura), have said the truth and what also is most beneficial to me. Indeed, as those mighty car-warriors, the heroic sons of Kunti, are the children of Pandu, so are they, without doubt, my children according to the ordinance. And as my sons are entitled to this kingdom, so are the sons of Pandu certainly entitled to it. Therefore, hasten to bring hither the Pandavas along with their mother, treating them with affectionate consideration. O thou of Bharata's race, bring also Krishna of celestial beauty along with them. From sheer good fortune the sons of Pritha are alive; and from good fortune alone those mighty car-warriors have obtained the daughter of Drupada. It is from good fortune alone that our strength hath increased, and it is from good fortune alone that Purochana hath perished. O thou of great splendour, it is from good fortune that my great grief hath been killed!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Vidura, at the command of Dhritarashtra, repaired, O Bharata, unto Yajnasena and the Pandavas. And he repaired thither carrying with him numerous jewels and various kinds of wealth for Draupadi and the Pandavas and Yajnasena also. Arrived at Drupada's abode, Vidura conversant with every rule of morality and deep in every science, properly accosted the monarch and waited upon him. Drupada received Vidura in proper form and they both enquired after each other's welfare. Vidura then saw there the Pandavas and Vasudeva. As soon as he saw them he embraced them from affection and enquired after their well being. The Pandavas also along with Vasudeva, in due order, worshipped Vidura of immeasurable intelligence. But Vidura, O king, in the name of Dhritarashtra repeatedly enquired with great affection after their welfare. He then gave, O monarch, unto the Pandavas and Kunti and Draupadi, and unto Drupada and Drupada's sons, the gems and various kinds of wealth that the Kauravas had sent through him. Possessed of immeasurable intelligence, the modest Vidura then, in the presence of the Pandavas and Keshava, addressed the well-behaved Drupada thus: "'"With thy ministers and sons, O monarch, listen to what I say. King Dhritarashtra, with ministers, sons, and friends, hath with a joyous heart, O king, repeatedly enquired after thy welfare. And, O monarch, he hath been highly pleased with this alliance with thee. So also, O king, Bhishma of great wisdom, the son of Santanu, with all the Kurus, enquired after thy welfare in every respect. Drona also of great wisdom the son of Bharadwaja and thy dear friend, embracing thee mentally, enquired of thy happiness. And, O king of Panchalas, Dhritarashtra and all the Kurus, in consequence of this alliance with thee regard themselves supremely blest. O Yajnasena, the establishment of this alliance with thee hath made them happier than if they had acquired a new kingdom. Knowing all this, O monarch, permit the Pandavas to re-visit their ancestral kingdom. The Kurus are exceedingly eager to behold the sons of Pandu. These bulls among men have been long absent (from their kingdom). They as well as Pritha must be very eager to behold their city. And all the Kuru ladies and the citizens and our subjects are eagerly waiting to behold Krishna the Panchala Princess. This, therefore, is my opinion, O monarch, that thou shouldst, without delay, permit the Pandavas to go thither with their wife. And after the illustrious Pandavas, O king, will have received thy permission to go thither, I shall send information unto Dhritarashtra by quick messengers. Then, O king, will the Pandavas set out with Kunti and Krishna."'" SECTION CCIX (Viduragamana Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of Vidura, Drupada said, "It is even so as thou, O Vidura of great wisdom, hast said. Venerable one, I too have been exceedingly happy in consequence of this alliance. It is highly proper that these illustrious princes should return to their ancestral kingdom. But it is not proper for me to say this myself. If the brave son of Kunti viz., Yudhishthira, if Bhima and Arjuna, if these among men, viz., the twins, themselves desire to go and if Rama (Valadeva) and Krishna, both acquainted with every rule of morality, be of the same mind, then let the Pandavas go thither. For these tigers among men (Rama and Krishna) are ever engaged in doing what is agreeable and beneficial to the sons of Pandu." "'Hearing this, Yudhishthira said, "We are now, O monarch, with all our younger brothers, dependent on thee. We shall cheerfully do what thou art pleased to command."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Vasudeva said, "I am of opinion that the Pandavas should go. But we should all abide by the opinion of king Drupada who is conversant with every rule of morality." "'Drupada then spoke, "I certainly agree with what this foremost of men thinketh, having regard to the circumstances. For the illustrious sons of Pandu now are to me as they are, without doubt, to Vasudeva. Kunti's son Yudhishthira himself doth not seek the welfare of the Pandavas so earnestly as Kesava, that tiger among men."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Commanded by the illustrious Drupada, the Pandavas, then, O king, and Krishna and Vidura, taking with them Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, and the renowned Kunti, journeyed towards the city called after the elephant, stopping at various places along the way for purposes of pleasure and enjoyment. King Dhritarashtra, hearing that those heroes had neared the capital sent out the Kauravas to receive them. They who were thus sent out were, O Bharata, Vikarna of the great bow, and Chitrasena, and Drona that foremost of warriors, and Kripa of Gautama's line. Surrounded by these, those mighty heroes, their splendour enhanced by that throng slowly entered the city of Hastinapura. The whole city became radiant, as it were, with the gay throng of sight-seers animated by curiosity. Those tigers among men gladdened the hearts of all who beheld them. And the Pandavas, dear unto the hearts of the people, heard, as they proceeded, various exclamations which the citizens, ever desirous of obeying the wishes of those princes, loudly uttered. Some exclaimed, "Here returns that tiger among men, conversant with all the rules of morality and who always protects us as if we were his nearest relatives." And elsewhere they said, "It seems that king Pandu--the beloved of his people-- returneth today from the forest, doubtless to do what is agreeable to us." And there were some that said, "What good is not done to us today when the heroic sons of Kunti come back to our town? If we have ever given away in charity, if we have ever poured libations of clarified butter on the fire, if we have any ascetic merit, let the Pandavas, by virtue of all those acts stay in town for a hundred years." "'At last the Pandavas, on arriving at the palace, worshipped the feet of Dhritarashtra, as also those of the illustrious Bhishma. They also worshipped the feet of everybody else that deserved that honour. And they enquired after the welfare of every citizen (there present). At last, at the command of Dhritarashtra they entered the chambers that had been assigned to them. "'After they had rested there for some time, they were summoned (to the court) by king Dhritarashtra and Bhishma, the son of Santanu. When they came, king Dhritarashtra addressing Yudhishthira, said, "Listen, O son of Kunti, with thy brothers, to what I say. Repair ye to Khandavaprastha so that no difference may arise again (between you and your cousins). If you take up your quarters there no one will be able to do you any injury. Protected by Partha (Arjuna), like the celestials by the thunderbolt, reside ye at Khandavaprastha, taking half of the kingdom."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Agreeing to what Dhritarashtra said, those bulls among men worshipping the king set out from Hastinapura. And content with half the kingdom, they removed to Khandavaprastha, which was in unreclaimed desert. Then those heroes of unfading splendour, viz., the Pandavas, with Krishna at their head, arriving there, beautified the place and made it a second heaven. And those mighty car-warriors, selecting with Dwaipayana's assistance a sacred and auspicious region, performed certain propitiatory ceremonies and measured out a piece of land for their city. Then surrounded by a trench wide as the sea and by walls reaching high up to the heavens and white as the fleecy clouds or the rays of the moon, that foremost of cities looked resplendent like Bhogavati (the capital of the nether kingdom) decked with the Nagas. And it stood adorned with palatial mansions and numerous gates, each furnished with a couple of panels resembling the out-stretched wings of Garuda. And it was protected with gateways looking like the clouds and high as the Mandara mountains. And well-furnished with numerous weapons of attack the missiles of the foes could not make slightest impression on them. And they were almost covered with darts and other missiles like double-tongued snakes. The turrets along the walls were filled with armed men in course of training; and the walls were lined with numerous warriors along their whole length. And there were thousands of sharp hooks and Sataghnis (machines slaying a century of warriors) and numerous other machines on the battlements. There were also large iron wheels planted on them. And with all these was that foremost of cities adorned. The streets were all wide and laid out excellently; and there was no fear in them of accident. And decked with innumerable mansions, the city became like unto Amaravati and came to be called Indraprastha (like unto Indra's city). In a delightful and auspicious part of the city rose the palace of the Pandavas filled with every kind of wealth and like unto the mansion of the celestial treasurer (Kuvera) himself. And it looked like a mass of clouds charged with lightning. "'When the city was built, there came, O king, numerous Brahmanas well- acquainted with all the Vedas and conversant with every language, wishing to dwell there. And there came also unto that town numerous merchants from every direction, in the hope of earning wealth. There also came numerous persons well-skilled in all the arts, wishing to take up their abode there. And around the city were laid out many delightful gardens adorned with numerous trees bearing both fruits and flowers. There were Amras (mango trees) and Amaratakas, and Kadamvas and Asokas, and Champakas; and Punnagas and Nagas and Lakuchas and Panasas; and Salas and Talas (palm trees) and Tamalas and Vakulas, and Ketakas with their fragrant loads; beautiful and blossoming and grand Amalakas with branches bent down with the weight of fruits and Lodhras and blossoming Ankolas; and Jamvus (blackberry trees) and Patalas and Kunjakas and Atimuktas; and Karaviras and Parijatas and numerous other kinds of trees always adorned with flowers and fruits and alive with feathery creatures of various species. And those verdant groves always resounded with the notes of maddened peacocks and Kokilas (blackbirds). And there were various pleasure-houses, bright as mirrors, and numerous bowers of creepers, and charming and artificial hillocks, and many lakes full to the brim of crystal water, and delightful tanks fragrant with lotuses and lilies and adorned with swans and ducks and chakravakas (brahminy ducks). And there were many delicious pools overgrown with fine aquatic plants. And there were also diverse ponds of great beauty and large dimension. And, O king, the joy of the Pandavas increased from day to day, in consequence of their residence in that large kingdom that was peopled with pious men. "'Thus in consequence of the virtuous behaviour of Bhishma and king Dhritarashtra towards them, the Pandavas took up their abode in Khandavaprastha. Adorned with those five mighty warriors, each equal unto Indra himself, that foremost of cities looked like Bhogavati (the capital of the nether kingdom) adorned with the Nagas. And, O monarch, having settled the Pandavas there, the heroic Krishna, obtaining their leave, came back with Rama to Dwaravati.'" SECTION CCX (Rajya-labha Parva) "Janamejaya said, 'O thou possessed of ascetic wealth, what did those high- souled ones, my grandsires, the illustrious Pandavas, do, after obtaining the kingdom of Indraprastha? How did their wife Draupadi obey them all? How is it also that no dissensions arose amongst those illustrious rulers of men, all attached to one wife, viz., Krishna? O thou of the wealth of asceticism, I wish to hear everything in detail regarding the behaviour towards one another of those rulers of men after their union with Krishna.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Those scorchers of foes, the Pandavas, having obtained their kingdom, at the command of Dhritarashtra, passed their days in joy and happiness at Khandavaprastha with Krishna. And Yudhishthira. endued with great energy and ever adhering to truth, having obtained the sovereignty, virtuously ruled the land, assisted by his brothers. And the sons of Pandu, endued with great wisdom and devoted to truth and virtue, having vanquished all their foes, continued to live there in great happiness. And those bulls among men, seated on royal seats of great value, used to discharge all the duties of government. And one day, while all those illustrious heroes were so seated, there came unto them the celestial Rishi Narada, in course of his wanderings. Beholding the Rishi, Yudhishthira offered him his own handsome seat. And after the celestial Rishi had been seated, the wise Yudhishthira duly offered him the Arghya with his own hands. And the king also informed the Rishi of the state of his kingdom. The Rishi accepting the worship, became well-pleased, and eulogising him with benedictions, commanded the king to take his seat. Commanded by the Rishi, the king took his seat. Then the king sent word unto Krishna (in the inner apartments) of the arrival of the illustrious one. Hearing of the Rishi's arrival Draupadi, purifying herself properly, came with a respectful attitude to where Narada was with the Pandavas. The virtuous princess of Panchala, worshipping the celestial Rishi's feet, stood with joined hands before him, properly veiled. The illustrious Narada, pronouncing various benedictions on her, commanded the princess to retire. After Krishna had retired, the illustrious Rishi, addressing in private all the Pandavas with Yudhishthira at their head, said, "The renowned princess of Panchala is the wedded wife of you all. Establish a rule amongst yourselves so that disunion may not arise amongst you. There were, in former days, celebrated throughout the three worlds, two brothers named Sunda and Upasunda living together and incapable of being slain by anybody unless each slew the other. They ruled the same kingdom, lived in the same house, slept on the same bed, sat on the same seat, and ate from the same dish. And yet they killed each for the sake of Tilottama. Therefore, O Yudhishthira, preserve your friendship for one another and do that which may not produce disunion amongst you." "'On hearing this, Yudhishthira asked, "O great Muni, whose sons were Asuras called Sunda and Upasunda? Whence arose that dissension amongst them, and why did they slay each other? Whose daughter also was this Tilottama for whose love the maddened brothers killed each other? Was she an Apsara (water nymph) or the daughter of any celestial? O thou whose wealth is asceticism, we desire, O Brahmana, to hear in detail everything as it happened. Indeed, our curiosity hath become great."'" SECTION CCXI (Rajya-labha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of Yudhishthira, Narada replied, "O son of Pritha, listen with thy brothers to me as I recite this old story, O Yudhishthira, exactly as everything happened. In olden days, a mighty Daitya named Nikumbha, endued with great energy and strength was born in the race of the great Asura, Hiranyakasipu. Unto this Nikumbha, were born two sons called Sunda and Upasunda. Both of them were mighty Asuras endued with great energy and terrible prowess. The brothers were both fierce and possessed of wicked hearts. And those Daityas were both of the same resolution, and ever engaged in achieving the same tasks and ends. They were ever sharers with each other in happiness as well as in woe. Each speaking and doing what was agreeable to the other, the brothers never were unless they were together, and never went anywhere unless together. Of exactly the same disposition and habits, they seemed to be one individual divided into two parts. Endued with great energy and ever of the same resolution in everything they undertook, the brothers gradually grew up. Always entertaining the same purpose, desirous of subjugating the three worlds, the brothers, after due initiation, went to the mountains of Vindhya. And severe were the ascetic penances they performed there. Exhausted with hunger and thirst, with matted locks on their heads and attired in barks of trees, they acquired sufficient ascetic merit at length. Besmearing themselves with dirt from head to foot, living upon air alone, standing on their toes, they threw pieces of the flesh of their bodies into the fire. Their arms upraised, and eye fixed, long was the period for which they observed their vows. And during the course of their ascetic penances, a wonderful incident occurred there. For the mountains of Vindhya, heated for a long course of years by the power of their ascetic austerities, began to emit vapour from every part of their bodies. And beholding the severity of their austerities, the celestials became alarmed. The gods began to cause numerous obstructions to impede the progress of their asceticism. The celestials repeatedly tempted the brothers by means of every precious possession and the most beautiful girls. The brothers broke not their vows. Then the celestials once more manifested, before the illustrious brothers, their powers of illusion. For it seemed their sisters, mothers, wives, and other relatives, with disordered hair and ornaments and robes, were running towards them in terror, pursued and struck by a Rakshasa with a lance in hand. And it seemed that the women implored the help of the brothers crying, 'O save us!' But all this went for nothing, for firmly wedded thereto, the brothers did not still break their vows. And when it was found that all this produced not the slightest impression on any of the two, both the women and the Rakshasa vanished from sight. At last the Grandsire himself, the Supreme Lord ever seeking the welfare of all, came unto those great Asuras and asked them to solicit the boon they desired. Then the brothers Sunda and Upasunda, both of great prowess, beholding the Grandsire, rose from their seats and waited with joined palms. And the brothers both said unto the God, 'O Grandsire, if thou hast been pleased with these our ascetic austerities, and art, O lord, propitious unto us, then let us have knowledge of all weapons and of all powers of illusion. Let us be endued with great strength, and let us be able to assume any form at will. And last of all, let us also be immortal.' Hearing these words of theirs, Brahman said, 'Except the immortality you ask for, you shall be given all that you desire. Solicit you some form of death by which you may still be equal unto the immortals. And since you have undergone these severe ascetic austerities from desire of sovereignty alone I cannot confer on you the boon of immortality. You have performed your ascetic penances even for the subjugation of the three worlds. It is for this, O mighty Daityas, that I cannot grant you what you desire.'" "'Narada continued, "Hearing these words of Brahman, Sunda and Upasunda said, 'O Grandsire, let us have no fear then from any created thing, mobile or immobile, in the three worlds, except only from each other!' The Grandsire then said, 'I grant you what you have asked for, even this your desire'. And granting them this boon, the Grandsire made them desist from their asceticism, and returned to his own region. Then the brothers, those mighty Daityas, having received those several boons became incapable of being slain by anybody in the universe. They then returned to their own abode. All their friends and relatives, beholding those Daityas of great intelligence, crowned with success in the matter of the boons they had obtained, became exceedingly glad. And Sunda and Upasunda then cut off their matted locks and wore coronets on their heads. Attired in costly robes and ornaments, they looked exceedingly handsome. They caused the moon to rise over their city every night even out of his season. And friends and relatives gave themselves up to joy and merriment with happy hearts. Eat, feed, give, make merry, sing, drink--these were the sounds heard everyday in every house. And here and there arose loud uproars of hilarity mixed with clappings of hands which filled the whole city of the Daityas, who being capable of assuming any form at will, were engaged in every kind of amusement and sport and scarcely noticed the flight of time, even regarding a whole year as a single day."'" SECTION CCXII (Rajya-labha Parva continued) "'Narada continued, "As soon as those festivities came to an end, the brothers Sunda and Upasunda, desirous of the Sovereignty of the three worlds, took counsel and commanded their forces to be arranged. Obtaining the assent of their friends and relatives, of the elders of the Daitya race and of their ministers of state, and performing the preliminary rites of departure, they set out in the night when the constellation Magha was in the ascendant. The brothers set out with a large Daitya force clad in mail and armed with maces and axes and lances and clubs. The Daitya heroes set out on their expedition with joyous hearts, the charanas (bards) chanting auspicious panegyrics indicative of their future triumphs. Furious in war, the Daitya brothers, capable of going everywhere at will, ascended the skies and went to the region of the celestials. The celestials knowing they were coming and acquainted also with the boons granted unto them by the Supreme Deity left heaven and sought refuge in the region of Brahman. Endued with fierce prowess, the Daitya heroes soon subjugated the region of Indra, and vanquishing the diverse tribes of Yakshas and Rakshasas and every creature ranging the skies, came away. Those mighty car-warriors next subjugated the Nagas of the nether region, and then the inmates of the ocean and then all the tribes of the Mlechchhas. Desirous next of subjugating the whole earth, those heroes of irresistible sway, summoning their soldiers, issued these cruel commands. 'Brahmanas and royal sages (on earth) with their libations and other food offered at grand sacrifices, increase the energy and strength of the gods, as also their prosperity. Engaged in such acts, they are the enemies of the Asuras. All of us, therefore, mustering together should completely slaughter them off the face of the earth!' Ordering their soldiers thus on the eastern shore of the great ocean, and entertaining such a cruel resolution, the Asura brothers set out in all directions. And those that were performing sacrifices and the Brahmanas that were assisting at those sacrifices, the mighty brothers instantly slew. And slaughtering them with violence they departed for some other place. Whilst their soldiers threw into the water the sacrificial fires that were in the asylums of Munis with souls under complete control, the curses uttered by the illustrious Rishis in wrath, rendered abortive by the boons granted (by Brahman), affected not the Asura brothers. When the Brahmanas saw that their curses produced not the slightest effect like shafts shot at stones they fled in all directions, forsaking their rites and vows. Even those Rishis on earth that were crowned with ascetic success, and had their passions under complete control and were wholly engrossed in meditation of the Deity, from fear of the Asura brothers, fled like snakes at the approach of Vinata's son (Garuda the snake-eater). The sacred asylums were all trodden down and broken. The sacrificial jars and vessels being broken, their (sacred) contents were scattered over the ground. The whole universe became empty, as if its creatures had all been stricken down during the season of general dissolution. And, O king, after the Rishis had all disappeared and made themselves invisible both the great Asuras, resolved upon their destruction, began to assume various forms. Assuming the forms of maddened elephants with temples rent from excess of juice, the Asura pair, searching out the Rishis who had sheltered themselves in caves, sent them to the region of Yama. Sometimes becoming as lions and again as tigers and disappearing the next moment, by these and other methods the cruel couple, seeing the Rishis, slew them instantly. Sacrifice and study ceased, and kings and Brahmanas were exterminated. The earth became utterly destitute of sacrifices and festivals. And the terrified people uttered cries of Oh and Alas and all buying and selling were stopped. All religious rites ceased, and the earth became destitute of sacred ceremonies and marriages. Agriculture was neglected and cattle were no longer tended. Towns and asylums became desolate. And scattered over with bones and skeletons, the earth assumed a frightful aspect. All ceremonies in honour of the Pitris were suspended, and the sacred sound of Vashat and the whole circle of auspicious rites ceased. The earth became frightful to behold. The Sun and the Moon, the Planets and Stars, and Constellations, and the other dwellers in the firmament, witnessing these acts of Sunda and Upasunda, grieved deeply. Subjugating all the points of heaven by means of such cruel acts, the Asura brothers took up their abode in Kurukshetra, without a single rival."'" SECTION CCXIII (Rajya-labha Parva continued) "'Narada continued, "Then the celestial Rishis, the Siddhas, and the high- souled Rishis possessing the attributes of tranquillity and self-restraint, beholding that act of universal slaughter, were afflicted with great grief. With passions and senses and souls under complete control, they then went to the abode of the Grandsire, moved by compassion for the universe. Arrived there, they beheld the Grandsire seated with gods, Siddhas, and Brahmarshis around him. There were present that God of gods, viz., Mahadeva, and Agni, accompanied by Vayu, and Soma and Surya and Sakra, and Rishis devoted to the contemplation of Brahma, and the Vaikhanasas, the Valakhilyas, the Vanaprasthas, the Marichipas, the Ajas, the Avimudas, and other ascetics of great energy. All those Rishis were sitting with the Grandsire, when the celestial and other Rishis, approaching Brahman with sorrowful hearts, represented unto him all the acts of Sunda and Upasunda. And they told the Grandsire in detail everything that the Asura brothers had done, and how they had done it, and in what order. Then all the celestials and the great Rishis pressed the matter before the Grandsire. The Grandsire, hearing everything they said, reflected for a moment and settled in his mind what he should do. Resolving to compass the destruction of the Asura brothers, he summoned Viswakarman (the celestial architect). Seeing Viswakarman before him, the Grandsire possessed of supreme ascetic merit commanded him, saying, 'Create thou a damsel capable of captivating all hearts.' Bowing down unto the Grandsire and receiving his command with reverence, the great artificer of the universe created a celestial maiden with careful attention. Viswakrit first collected all handsome features upon the body of the damsel he created. Indeed, the celestial maiden that he created was almost a mass of gems. And created with great care by Viswakarman, the damsel, in beauty, became unrivalled among the women of the three worlds. There was not even a minute part of her body which by its wealth of beauty could not attract the gaze of beholders. And like unto the embodied Sri herself, that damsel of extraordinary beauty captivated the eyes and hearts of every creature. And because she had been created with portions of every gem taken in minute measures, the Grandsire bestowed upon her the name of Tilottama. And as soon as he started it into life, the damsel bowed to Brahman and with joined palms said, 'Lord of every created thing, what task am I to accomplish and what have I been created for?' The Grandsire answered, 'Go, O Tilottama, unto the Asuras, Sunda and Upasunda. O amiable one, tempt them with thy captivating beauty. And, O damsel, conduct thyself there in such a way that the Asura brothers may, in consequence of the wealth of thy beauty, quarrel with each other as soon as they cast their eyes upon thee.'" "'Narada continued, "Bowing unto the Grandsire and saying, 'So be it,'--the damsel walked round the celestial conclave. The illustrious Brahman was then sitting with face turned eastwards, and Mahadeva with face also towards the east, and all the celestials with faces northwards, and the Rishis with faces towards all directions. While Tilottama walked round the conclave of the celestials, Indra and the illustrious Sthanu (Mahadeva) were the only ones that succeeded in preserving their tranquillity of mind. But exceedingly desirous as Mahadeva was (of beholding Tilottama) when the damsel (in her progress round the celestial conclave) was at his side, another face like a full-blown lotus appeared on the southern side of his body. And when she was behind him, another face appeared on the west. And when the damsel was on the northern side of the great god, a fourth face appeared on the northern side of his body. Mahadeva (who was eager to behold the damsel) came also to have a thousand eyes, each large and slightly reddish, before, behind and on his flanks. And it was thus that Sthanu the great god came to have four faces, and the slayer of Vala, a thousand eyes. And as regards the mass of the celestials and the Rishis, they turned their faces towards all directions as Tilottama walked round them. Except the divine Grandsire himself, the glances of those illustrious personages, even of all of them fell upon Tilottama's body. And when Tilottama set out (for the city of the Asuras) with the wealth of her beauty, all regarded the task as already accomplished. After Tilottama had gone away, the great god who was the First Cause of the Universe, dismissed all the celestials and the Rishis."'" SECTION CCXIV (Rajya-labha Parva continued) "'Narada continued, "Meanwhile the Asura brothers having subjugated the earth were without a rival. The fatigue of exertion gone, they, having brought the three worlds under equal sway, regarded themselves as persons that had nothing more to do. Having brought all the treasures of the gods, the Gandharvas, the Yakshas, the Nagas, the Rakshasas, and the kings of the earth, the brothers began to pass their days in great happiness. When they saw they had no rivals (in the three worlds), they gave up all exertion and devoted their time to pleasure and merriment, like the celestials. They experienced great happiness by giving themselves up to every kind of enjoyment, such as women, and perfumes and floral wreaths and viands, and drinks and many other agreeable objects all in profusion. In houses and woods and gardens, on hills and in forests, wherever they liked they passed their time in pleasure and amusement, like the immortals. And it so happened that one day they went for purposes of pleasure to a tableland of the Vindhya range, perfectly level and stony, and overgrown with blossoming trees. After every object of desire, all of the most agreeable kind, had been brought, the brothers sat on an excellent seat, with happy hearts and accompanied by handsome women. And those damsels, desirous of pleasing the brothers, commenced a dance in accompaniment to music, and sweetly chanted many a song in praise of the mighty pair. "'"Meanwhile Tilottama attired in a single piece of red silk that exposed all her charms, came along, plucking wild flowers on her way. She advanced slowly to where those mighty Asuras were. The Asura brothers, intoxicated with the large portions they had imbibed, were smitten upon beholding that maiden of transcendent beauty. Leaving their seats they went quickly to where the damsel was. Both of them being under the influence of lust, each sought the maiden for himself. And Sunda seized that maid of fair brows by her right hand. Intoxicated with the boons they had obtained, with physical might, with the wealth and gems they had gathered from every quarter, and with the wine they had drunk, maddened with all these, and influenced by wishful desire, they addressed each other, each contracting his brow in anger. 'She is my wife, and therefore your superior,' said Sunda. 'She is my wife, and therefore your sister-in-law', replied Upasunda. And they said unto each other, 'She is mine not yours.' And soon they were under the influence of rage. Maddened by the beauty of the damsel, they soon forgot their love and affection for each other. Both of them, deprived of reason by passion, then took up their fierce maces. Each repeating, 'I was the first, I was the first,' (in taking her hand) struck the other. And the fierce Asuras, struck by each other with the mace, fell down upon the ground, their bodies bathed in blood, like two suns dislodged from the firmament. And beholding this, the women that had come there, and the other Asuras there present, all fled away trembling in grief and fear, and took refuge in the nether regions. The Grandsire himself of pure soul, then came there, accompanied by the celestials, and the great Rishis. And the illustrious Grandsire applauded Tilottama and expressed his wish of granting her a boon. The Supreme Deity, before Tilottama spoke, desirous of granting her a boon, cheerfully said, 'O beautiful damsel, thou shalt roam in the region of the Adityas. Thy splendour shall be so great that nobody will ever be able to look at thee for any length of time!' The Grandsire of all creatures, granting this boon unto her, establishing the three worlds in Indra as before, returned to his own region." "'Narada continued, "It was thus that Asuras, ever united and inspired by the same purpose slew each other in wrath for the sake of Tilottama. Therefore, from affection I tell you, ye foremost ones of Bharata's line, that if you desire to do anything agreeable to me, make some such arrangements that you may not quarrel with one another for the sake of Draupadi."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The illustrious Pandavas, thus addressed by the great Rishi Narada, consulting with one another, established a rule amongst themselves in the presence of the celestial Rishi himself endued with immeasurable energy. And the rule they made was that when one of them would be sitting with Draupadi, any of the other four who would see that one thus must retire into the forest for twelve years, passing his days as a Brahmacharin. After the virtuous Pandavas had established that rule amongst themselves, the great Muni Narada, gratified with them, went to the place he wished. Thus, O Janamejaya, did the Pandavas urged by Narada, established a rule amongst themselves in regard to their common wife. And it was for this, O Bharata, that no dispute ever arose between them.'" SECTION CCXV (Arjuna-vanavasa Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'The Pandavas, having established such a rule, continued to reside there. By the prowess of their arms they brought many kings under their sway. And Krishna became obedient unto all the five sons of Pritha, those lions among men, of immeasurable energy. Like the river Saraswati decked with elephants, which again take pleasure in that stream, Draupadi took great delight in her five heroic husbands and they too took delight in her. And in consequence of the illustrious Pandavas being exceedingly virtuous in their practice, the whole race of Kurus, free from sin, and happy, grew in prosperity. "'After some time, O king, it so happened that certain robbers lifted the cattle of a Brahmana, and while they were carrying away the booty, the Brahmana, deprived of his senses by anger, repaired to Khandavaprastha, and began to reprove the Pandavas in accents of woe. The Brahmana said, "Ye Pandavas, from this your dominion, my kine are even now being taken away by force by despicable and wicked wretches! Pursue ye the thieves. Alas, the sacrificial butter of a peaceful Brahmana is being taken away by crows! Alas, the wretched jackal invadeth the empty cave of a lion! A king that taketh the sixth part of the produce of the land without protecting the subject, hath been called by the wise to be the most sinful person in the whole world. The wealth of a Brahmana is being taken away by robbers! Virtue itself is sustaining a diminution! Take me up by the hand, ye Pandavas for I am plunged in grief!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, heard those accents of the Brahmana weeping in bitter grief. As soon as he heard those accents, he loudly assured the Brahmana, saying, "No fear!" But it so happened that the chamber where the illustrious Pandavas had their weapons was then occupied by Yudhishthira the just with Krishna. Arjuna, therefore, was incapable of entering it or going along with the Brahmana, though repeatedly urged (to do either) by the weeping accents of the Brahmana. Summoned by the Brahmana, Arjuna reflected, with a sorrowful heart, "Alas, this innocent Brahmana's wealth is being robbed! I should certainly dry up his tears. He hath come to our gate, and is weeping even now. If I do not protect him, the king will be touched with sin in consequence of my indifference; our own irreligiousness will be cited throughout the kingdom, and we shall incur a great sin. If, disregarding the king, I enter the chamber, without doubt I shall be behaving untruthfully towards the monarch without a foe. By entering the chamber, again, I incur the penalty of an exile in the woods. But I must overlook everything. I care not if I have to incur sin by disregarding the king. I care not if I have to go to the woods and die there. Virtue is superior to the body and lasteth after the body hath perished!" Dhananjaya, arriving at this resolution, entered the chamber and talked with Yudhishthira. Coming out with the bow, he cheerfully told the Brahmana, "Proceed, O Brahmana, with haste, so that those wretched robbers may not go much ahead of us. I shall accompany thee and restore unto thee thy wealth that hath fallen into the hands of the thieves." Then Dhananjaya, capable of using both his arms with equal skill, armed with the bow and cased in mail and riding in his war-chariot decked with a standard, pursued the thieves, and piercing them with his arrows, compelled them to give up the booty. Benefiting the Brahmana thus by making over to him his kine, and winning great renown, the hero returned to the capital. Bowing unto all the elders, and congratulated by everybody, Partha at last approached Yudhishthira, and addressing him, said, "Give me leave, O lord, to observe the vow I took. In beholding thee sitting with Draupadi, I have violated the rule established by ourselves. I shall therefore go into the woods, for this is even our understanding." Then Yudhishthira, suddenly hearing those painful words, became afflicted with grief, and said in an agitated voice, "Why!" A little while after, king Yudhishthira in grief said unto his brother Dhananjaya of curly hair who never departed from his vows, these words, "O sinless one, if I am an authority worthy of regard, listen to what I say. O hero, full well do I know the reason why thou hadst entered my chamber and didst what thou regardest to be an act disagreeable to me. But there is no displeasure in my mind. The younger brother may, without fault, enter the chamber where the elder brother sitteth with his wife. It is only the elder brother that acts against the rules of propriety by entering the room where the younger brother sitteth with his wife. Therefore, O thou of mighty arms, desist from thy purpose. Do what I say. Thy virtue hath sustained no diminution. Thou hast not disregarded me." "'Arjuna, hearing this, replied, "I have heard, even from thee, that quibbling is not permitted in the discharge of duty. I cannot waver from truth. Truth is my weapon."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Obtaining then the king's permission, Arjuna prepared himself for a forest-life; and he went to the forest to live there for twelve years.'" SECTION CCXVI (Arjuna-vanavasa Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'When that spreader of the renown of Kuru's race, the strong-armed Arjuna, set out (for the forest), Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas walked behind that illustrious hero to a certain distance. Followed by Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas and their branches and devoted to the contemplation of the Supreme Spirit, by persons skilled in music, by ascetics devoted to the Deity, by reciters of Puranas, by narrators of sacred stories by devotees leading celibate lives, by Vanaprasthas, by Brahmanas sweetly reciting celestial histories, and by various other classes of persons of sweet speeches, Arjuna journeyed like Indra followed by the Maruts. And, O thou of Bharata's race, that bull among the Bharatas saw, as he journeyed, many delightful and picturesque forests, lakes, rivers, seas, provinces, and waters. At length, on arriving at the source of the Ganges the mighty hero thought of settling there. "'Listen now, O Janamejaya, to a wonderful feat which that foremost of the sons of Pandu, of high soul, did, while living there. When that son of Kunti, O Bharata, and the Brahmanas who had followed him, took up their residence in that region, the latter performed innumerable Agnihotras (sacrificial rites by igniting the sacred fire). And, O king, in consequence of those learned vow-observing, and illustrious Brahmanas, who never deviated from the right path, daily establishing and igniting with mantras on the banks of that sacred stream, after the performance of their ablutions, fires for their sacrifices, and pouring libations of clarified butter into the same, and worshipping those fires with offerings of flowers, that region itself where the Ganges entered the plains became exceedingly beautiful. One day that bull amongst the Pandavas, while residing in that region in the midst of those Brahmanas, descended (as usual) into the Ganges to perform his ablutions. After his ablutions had been over, and after he had offered oblations of water unto his deceased ancestors, he was about to get up from the stream to perform his sacrificial rites before the fire, when the mighty-armed hero, O king, was dragged into the bottom of the water by Ulupi, the daughter of the king of the Nagas, urged by the god of desire. And it so happened that the son of Pandu was carried into the beautiful mansion of Kauravya, the king of the Nagas. Arjuna saw there a sacrificial fire ignited for himself. Beholding that fire, Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti performed his sacrificial rites with devotion. And Agni was much gratified with Arjuna for the fearlessness with which that hero had poured libations into his manifest form. After he had thus performed his rites before the fire, the son of Kunti, beholding the daughter of the king of the Nagas, addressed her smilingly and said, "O handsome girl, what an act of rashness hast thou done, O timid one! Whose is this beautiful region, who art thou and whose daughter?" "'Hearing these words of Arjuna, Ulupi answered, "There is a Naga of the name of Kauravya, born in the line of Airavata. I am, O prince, the daughter of that Kauravya, and my name is Ulupi. O tiger among men, beholding thee descend into the stream to perform thy ablutions, I was deprived of reason by the god of desire. O sinless one, I am still unmarried. Afflicted as I am by the god of desire on account of thee, O thou of Kuru's race, gratify me today by giving thyself up to me." "'Arjuna replied, "Commanded by king Yudhishthira, O amiable one, I am undergoing the vow of Brahmacharin for twelve years. I am not free to act in any way I like. But, O ranger of the waters, I am still willing to do thy pleasure (if I can). I have never spoken an untruth in my life. Tell me, therefore, O Naga maid, how I may act so that, while doing thy pleasure, I may not be guilty of any untruth or breach of duty." "'Ulupi answered, "I know, O son of Pandu, why thou wanderest over the earth, and why thou hast been commanded to lead the life of a Brahmacharin by the superior. Even this was the understanding to which all of you had been pledged, viz., that amongst you all owning Drupada's daughter as your common wife, he who would from ignorance enter the room where one of you would be sitting with her, should lead the life of a Brahmacharin in the woods for twelve years. The exile of any one amongst you, therefore, is only for the sake of Draupadi. Thou art but observing the duty arising from that vow. Thy virtue cannot sustain any diminution (by acceding to my solicitation). Then again, O thou of large eyes, it is a duty to relieve the distressed. Thy virtue suffereth no diminution by relieving me. Oh, if (by this act), O Arjuna, thy virtue doth suffer a small diminution, thou wilt acquire great merit by saving my life. Know me for thy worshipper, O Partha! Therefore, yield thyself up to me! Even this, O lord, is the opinion of the wise (viz., that one should accept a woman that wooeth). If thou do not act in this way, know that I will destroy myself. O thou of mighty arms, earn great merit by saving my life. I seek thy shelter, O best of men! Thou protectest always, O son of Kunti, the afflicted and the masterless. I seek thy protection, weeping in sorrow. I woo thee, being filled with desire. Therefore, do what is agreeable to me. It behoveth thee to gratify my wish by yielding thy self up to me."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by the daughter of the king of the Nagas, the son of Kunti did everything she desired, making virtue his motive. The mighty Arjuna, spending the night in the mansion of the Naga rose with the sun in the morning. Accompanied by Ulupi he came back from the palace of Kauravya to the region where the Ganges entereth the plains. The chaste Ulupi, taking her leave there, returned to her own abode. And, O Bharata, she granted unto Arjuna a boon making him invincible in water, saying, "Every amphibious creature shall, without doubt, be vanquishable by thee."'" SECTION CCXVII (Arjuna-vanavasa Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then the son of the wielder of the thunderbolt narrated everything unto those Brahmanas (residing with him there), set out for the breast of Himavat. Arriving at the spot called Agastyavata, he next went to Vasishtha's peak. Thence the son of Kunti proceeded to the peak of Bhrigu. Purifying himself with ablutions and rites there, that foremost of the Kurus gave away unto Brahmanas many thousands of cows and many houses. Thence that best of men proceeded to the sacred asylum called Hiranyavindu. Performing his ablutions there, that foremost of the sons of Pandu saw many holy regions. Descending from those heights that chief of men, O Bharata, accompanied by the Brahmanas, journeyed towards the east, desiring to behold the regions that lay in that direction. That foremost one of Kuru's race saw many regions of sacred waters one after another. And beholding in the forest of Naimisha the delightful river Utpalini (full of lotuses) and the Nanda and the Apara Nanda, the far-famed Kausiki, and the mighty rivers Gaya and Ganga, and all the regions of sacred water, he purified himself, O Bharata, (with the usual rites), and gave away many cows unto Brahmanas. Whatever regions of sacred waters and whatever other holy palaces there were in Vanga and Kalinga, Arjuna visited all of them. Seeing them all and performing proper ceremonies, he gave away much wealth. Then, O Bharata, all those Brahmanas following the son of Pandu, bade him farewell at the gate of the kingdom of Kalinga and desisted from proceeding with him any further. The brave Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, obtaining their leave, went towards the ocean, accompanied by only a few attendants. Crossing the country of the Kalingas, the mighty one proceeded, seeing on his way diverse countries and sacred spots and diverse delightful mansions and houses. Beholding the Mahendra mountain adorned with the ascetics (residing there), he went to Manipura, proceeding slowly along the sea-shore. Beholding all the sacred waters and other holy places in that province, the strong-armed son of Pandu at last went, O king, to the virtuous Chitravahana, the ruler of Manipura. The king of Manipura had a daughter of great beauty named Chitrangada. And it so happened that Arjuna beheld her in her father's palace roving at pleasure. Beholding the handsome daughter of Chitravahana, Arjuna desired to possess her. Going unto the king (her father), he represented unto him what he sought. He said, "Give away unto me thy daughter, O king! I am an illustrious Kshatriya's son." Hearing this, the king asked him, "Whose son art thou?" Arjuna replied, "I am Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu and Kunti." The king, hearing this, spoke unto him these words in sweet accents, "There was in our race a king of the name of Prabhanjana, who was childless. To obtain a child, he underwent severe ascetic penances. By his severe asceticism, O Partha, he gratified that god of gods, Mahadeva, the husband of Uma, that supreme Lord holding (the mighty bow called) Pinaka. The illustrious Lord granted him the boon that each successive descendant of his race should have one child only. In consequence of that boon only one child is born unto every successive descendant of this race. All my ancestors (one after another) had each a male child. I, however, have only a daughter to perpetuate my race. But, O bull amongst men, I ever look upon this daughter of mine as my son. O bull of Bharata's race, I have duly made her a Putrika. Therefore, one amongst the sons that may be begotten upon her by thee, O Bharata, shall be the perpetuator of my race. That son is the dower for which I may give away my daughter. O son of Pandu, if thou choosest, thou canst take her upon this understanding." Hearing these words of the king, Arjuna accepted them all, saying, "So be it." Taking Chitravahana's daughter (as his wife), the son of Kunti resided in that city for three years. When Chitrangada at last gave birth to a son, Arjuna embraced that handsome princess affectionately. And taking leave of the king (her father), he set out on his wanderings again.'" SECTION CCXVIII (Arjuna-vanavasa Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then that bull of Bharata's race went to the sacred waters on the banks of the southern ocean, all adorned with the ascetics residing there. And there lay scattered five such regions where also dwelt many ascetics. But those five waters themselves were shunned by all of them. Those sacred waters were called Agastya, and Saubhadra and Pauloma of great holiness, and Karandhama of great propitiousness yielding the fruits of a horse-sacrifice unto those that bathed there, and Bharadwaja, that great washer of sins. That foremost one among the Kurus, beholding those five sacred waters, and finding them uninhabited, and ascertaining also that they were shunned by the virtuous ascetics dwelling around, asked those pious men with joined hands, saying, "Why O ascetics, are these five sacred waters shunned by utterers of Brahma?" Hearing him, the ascetics replied, "There dwell in these waters five large crocodiles which take away the ascetics that may happen to bathe in them. It is for this, O son of Kuru's race, that these waters are shunned."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of the ascetics, that foremost of men endued with mighty arms, though dissuaded by them went to behold those waters. Arrived at the excellent sacred water called Saubhadra after a great Rishi, the brave scorcher of all foes suddenly plunged into it to have a bath. As soon as that tiger among men had plunged into the water a great crocodile (that was in it) seized him by the leg. But the strong-armed Dhananjaya the son of Kunti, that foremost of all men endued with might, seized that struggling ranger of the water and dragged it forcibly to the shore. But dragged by the renowned Arjuna to the land, that crocodile became (transformed into) a beautiful damsel bedecked with ornament. O king, that charming damsel of celestial form seemed to shine for her beauty and complexion. Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, beholding that strange sight, asked that damsel with a pleased heart, "Who art thou, O beautiful one? Why hast thou been a ranger of the waters? Why also didst thou commit such a dreadful sin?" The damsel replied, saying, "I am, O mighty-armed one, an Apsara that sported in the celestial woods. I am, O mighty one, Varga by name, and ever dear unto the celestial treasurer (Kuvera). I have four other companions, all handsome and capable of going everywhere at will. Accompanied by them I was one day going to the abode of Kuvera. On the way we beheld a Brahmana of rigid vows, and exceedingly handsome, studying the Vedas in solitude. The whole forest (in which he was sitting) seemed to be covered with his ascetic splendour. He seemed to have illuminated the whole region like the Sun himself. Beholding his ascetic devotion of that nature and his wonderful beauty, we alighted in that region, in order to disturb his meditations. Myself and Saurabheyi and Samichi and Vudvuda and Lata, that Brahmana, O Bharata, at the same time. We began to sing and smile and otherwise tempt that Brahmana. But, O hero, that Brahmana (youth) set not his heart even once upon us. His mind fixed on pure meditation, that youth of great energy suffered not his heart to waver, O bull among Kshatriyas, the glance he cast upon us was one of wrath. And he said, staring at us, 'Becoming crocodiles, range ye the waters for a hundred years.'"'" SECTION CCXIX (Arjuna-vanavasa Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Varga continued, "We were then, O foremost one of Bharata's race, deeply distressed at this curse. We sought to propitiate that Brahmana of ascetic wealth that departed not from his vow. Addressing him, we said, 'Inflated with a sense of our beauty and youth, and urged by the god of desire, we have acted very improperly. It behoveth thee, O Brahmana, to pardon us! Truly, O Brahmana, it was death to us that we had at all come hither to tempt thee of rigid vows and ascetic wealth. The virtuous, however, have said that women should never be slain. Therefore grow thou in virtue. It behoveth thee not to slay us so. O thou that art conversant with virtue, it hath been said that a Brahmana is ever the friend of every creature. O thou of great prosperity, let this speech of the wise become true. The eminent always protect those that seek protection at their hands. We seek thy protection. It behoveth thee to grant us pardon.'" "Vaisampayana continued, '"Thus addressed, that Brahmana of virtuous soul and good deeds and equal in splendour, O hero, unto the sun or the moon, became propitious unto them. And the Brahmana said, 'The words hundred and hundred thousand are all indicative of eternity. The word hundred, however, as employed by me is to be understood as a limited period and not indicative of a period without end. Ye shall, therefore, becoming crocodiles, seize and take away men (for only a hundred years as explained by me). At the end of that period, an exalted individual will drag you all from water to the land. Then ye will resume your real forms. Never have I spoken an untruth even in jest. Therefore, all that I have said must come to pass. And those sacred waters (within which I assign you your places), will, after you will have been delivered by that individual, become known all over the world by the name of Nari-tirthas (or sacred waters connected with the sufferings and the deliverance of females), and all of them shall become sacred and sin cleansing in the eyes of the virtuous and the wise.'" "Vaisampayana continued, 'Varga then addressing Arjuna, finished her discourse, saying, "Hearing these words of the Brahmana, we saluted him with reverence and walked round him. Leaving that region we came away with heavy hearts, thinking as we proceeded, 'Where shall we all soon meet with that man who will give us back our own shapes (after our transformation)?' As we were thinking of it, in almost a moment, O Bharata, we beheld even the eminent celestial Rishi Narada. Beholding that Rishi of immeasurable energy, our hearts were filled with joy. Saluting him with reverence, O Partha, we stood before him, with blushing faces. He asked of us the cause of our sorrow and we told him all. Hearing what had happened the Rishi said, 'In the low-lands bordering on the southern ocean, there are five regions of sacred water. They are delightful and eminently holy. Go ye thither without delay. That tiger among men, Dhananjaya, the son of Pandu of pure soul, will soon deliver you, without doubt, from this sad plight.' O hero, hearing the Rishi's words, all of us came hither. O sinless one, true it is that I have today been delivered by thee. But those four friends of mine are still within the other waters here. O hero, do a good deed by delivering them also."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then, O monarch, that foremost of the Pandavas, endued with great prowess, cheerfully delivered all of them from that curse. Rising from the waters they all regained their own forms. Those Apsaras then, O king, all looked as before. Freeing those sacred waters (from the danger for which they had been notorious), and giving the Apsaras leave to go where they chose, Arjuna became desirous of once more beholding Chitrangada. He, therefore, proceeded towards the city of Manipura. Arrived there, he beheld on the throne the son he had begotten upon Chitrangada, and who was called by the name of Vabhruvahana. Seeing Chitrangada once more, Arjuna proceeded, O monarch, towards the spot called Gokarna.'" SECTION CCXX (Arjuna-vanavasa Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Arjuna of immeasurable prowess saw, one after another, all the sacred waters and other holy places that were on the shores of the western ocean. Vibhatsu reached the sacred spot called Prabhasa. When the invincible Arjuna arrived at that sacred and delightful region, the slayer of Madhu (Krishna) heard of it. Madhava soon went there to see his friend, the son of Kunti. Krishna and Arjuna met together and embracing each other enquired after each other's welfare. Those dear friends, who were none else than the Rishis Nara and Narayana of old, sat down. Vasudeva asked Arjuna about his travels, saying, "Why, O Pandava art thou wandering over the earth, beholding all the sacred waters and other holy places?" Then Arjuna told him everything that had happened. Hearing everything, that mighty hero of Vrishni's race said, "This is as it should be." And Krishna and Arjuna having sported as they liked, for some time at Prabhasa, went to the Raivataka mountain to pass some days there. Before they arrived at Raivataka, that mountain had, at the command of Krishna been well-adorned by many artificers. Much food also had, at Krishna's command, been collected there. Enjoying everything that had been collected there for him, Arjuna sat with Vasudeva to see the performances of the actors and the dancers. Then the high-souled Pandava, dismissing them all with proper respect, laid himself down on a well-adorned and excellent bed. As the strong-armed one lay on that excellent bed, he described unto Krishna everything about the sacred waters, the lakes and the mountains, the rivers and the forests he had seen. While he was speaking of these, stretched upon that celestial bed, sleep, O Janamejaya, stole upon him. He rose in the morning, awakened, by sweet songs and melodious notes of the Vina (guitar) and the panegyrics and benedictions of the bards. After he had gone through the necessary acts and ceremonies, he was affectionately accosted by him of the Vrishni race. Riding upon a golden car, the hero then set out for Dwaraka, the capital of the Yadavas. And, O Janamejaya, for honouring the son of Kunti, the city of Dwaraka, was well-adorned, even all the gardens and houses within it. The citizens of Dwaraka, desirous of beholding the son of Kunti, began to pour eagerly into the public thoroughfares by hundreds of thousands. In the public squares and thoroughfares, hundreds and thousands of women, mixing with the men, swelled the great crowd of the Bhojas, the Vrishnis, and the Andhakas, that had collected there. Arjuna was welcomed with respect by all the sons of Bhojas, the Vrishnis, and the Andhakas. And he, in his turn, worshipped those that deserved his worship, receiving their blessings. The hero was welcomed with affectionate reception by all the young men of the Yadava tribe. He repeatedly embraced all that were equal to him in age. Wending then to the delightful mansion of Krishna that was filled with gems and every article of enjoyment, he took up his abode there with Krishna for many days.'" SECTION CCXXI (Subhadra-harana Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'O best of monarchs, within a few days after this, there commenced on the Raivataka mountain, a grand festival of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas. At the mountain-festival of the Bhojas, the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, the heroes of those tribes began to give away much wealth unto Brahmanas by thousands. The region around that hill, O king was adorned with many a mansion decked with gems and many an artificial tree of gaudy hue. The musicians struck up in concert and the dancers began to dance and the vocalists to sing. And the youth of the Vrishni race, endued with great energy, adorned with every ornament, and riding in their gold-decked cars, looked extremely handsome. The citizens, some on foot and some in excellent cars, with their wives and followers were there by hundreds and thousands. And there was the lord Haladhara (Valarama), roving at will, hilarious with drink, accompanied by (his wife) Revati, and followed by many musicians and vocalists. There came Ugrasena also, the powerful king of the Vrishni race, accompanied by his thousand wives and followed by sweet singers. And Raukmineya and Shamva also, ever furious in battle, roved there, excited with drink and adorned with floral wreaths of great beauty and with costly attires, and disported themselves like a pair of celestials. And Akrura and Sarana and Gada, and Vabhru, and Nisatha, and Charudeshna, and Prithu, Viprithu, and Satyaka, and Satyaki, and Bhangakara, and Maharava, and Hardikya, and Uddhava, and many others whose names are not given, accompanied by their wives that followed by bands of singers, adorned that mountain-festival. When that delightful festival of immense grandeur commenced, Vasudeva and Partha went about, together, beholding everything around. While wandering there, they saw the handsome daughter of Vasudeva, Bhadra by name, decked with every ornament, in the midst of her maids. As soon as Arjuna beheld her he was possessed by the god of desire. Then, O Bharata, that tiger among men, Krishna, observing Partha contemplate her with absorbed attention, said with a smile, "How is this? Can the heart of one that rangeth the woods be agitated by the god of desire? This is my sister, O Partha, and the uterine sister of Sarana. Blest be thou, her name is Bhadra and she is the favourite daughter of my father. Tell me if thy heart is fixed upon her, for I shall then speak to my father myself." "'Arjuna answered, "She is Vasudeva's daughter and Vasudeva's (Krishna) sister; endued with so much beauty, whom can she not fascinate? If this thy sister, this maid of the Vrishni race, becometh my wife, truly may I win prosperity in everything. Tell me, O Janardana, by what means I may obtain her. To get her I will achieve anything that is achievable by man." "'Vasudeva answered, "O bull amongst men, self-choice hath been ordained for the marriage of Kshatriyas. But that is doubtful (in its consequences), O Partha, as we do not know this girl's temper and disposition. In the case of Kshatriyas that are brave, a forcible abduction for purposes of marriage is applauded, as the learned have said. Therefore O Arjuna, carry away this my beautiful sister by force, for who knows what she may do at a self-choice." Then Krishna and Arjuna, having thus settled as to what should be done sent some speedy messengers unto Yudhishthira at Indraprastha, informing him of everything. The strong-armed Yudhishthira, as soon as he heard it, gave his assent to it.'" SECTION CCXXII (Subhadra-harana Parva continued) "'Then Dhananjaya, informed of the assent of Yudhishthira, and ascertaining, O Janamejaya, that the maiden had gone to the Raivataka hill, obtained the assent of Vasudeva also, after having settled in consultation with him all that required to be done. Then that bull of Bharata's race, that foremost of men, with Krishna's assent, riding in his well-built car of gold equipped with rows of small bells and with every kind of weapon and the clatter of whose wheels resembled the roar of the clouds and whose splendour was like unto that of a blazing fire and which struck terror into the hearts of all foes and unto which were yoked the steeds Saivya and Sugriva, himself accoutred in mail and armed with sword and his fingers encased in leathern gloves, set out, as it were, on a hunting expedition. Meanwhile Subhadra, having paid her homage unto that prince of hills, Raivataka and having worshipped the deities and made the Brahmanas utter benedictions upon her, and having also walked round the hill, was coming towards Dwaravati. The son of Kunti, afflicted with the shafts of the god of desire, suddenly rushed towards that Yadava girl of faultless features and forcibly took her into his car. Having seized that girl of sweet smiles, that tiger among men proceeded in his car of gold towards his own city (Indraprastha). Meanwhile, the armed attendants of Subhadra, beholding her thus seized and taken away, all ran crying towards the city of Dwaraka. Reaching all together the Yadava court called by the name of Sudharma, they represented everything about the prowess of Partha unto the chief officer of the court. The chief officer of the court, having heard everything from those messengers, blew his gold-decked trumpet of loud blare, calling all to arms. Stirred up by that sound, the Bhojas, the Vrishnis, and the Andhakas began to pour in from all sides. Those that were eating left their food, and those that were drinking left their drink. Those tigers among men, those great warriors of the Vrishni and the Andhaka tribes, took their seats upon their thousand thrones of gold covered with excellent carpets and variegated with gems and corals and possessed of the lustre of blazing fire. Indeed they took their seats upon those thrones, like blazing fires receiving faggots to increase their splendour. And after they were seated in that court which was like unto a conclave of the celestials themselves, the chief officer of the court, assisted by those that stood at his back, spoke of the conduct of Jishnu. The proud Vrishni heroes, of eyes red with wine, as soon as they heard of it, rose up from their seats, unable to brook what Arjuna had done. Some amongst them said, "Yoke our cars", and some, "Bring our weapons" and some said, "Bring our costly bows and strong coats of mail," and some loudly called upon their charioteers to harness their cars, and some, from impatience, themselves yoked their horses decked with gold unto their cars. And while their cars and armours and standards were being brought, loud became the uproar of those heroes. Then Valadeva, white and tall as the peak of Kailasa, decked with garlands of wild flowers and attired in blue robes, and proud and intoxicated with drink, said these words: "'"Ye senseless men, what are ye doing, when Janardana sitteth silent? Without knowing what is in his mind, vainly do we roar in wrath! Let the high-souled Krishna give out what he proposeth. Accomplish promptly what he desireth to do." Then all of them, hearing those words of Halayudha that deserved to be accepted, exclaimed, "Excellent! Excellent!" They then all became silent. Silence having been restored by the words of the intelligent Valadeva, they took their seats once more in that assembly. Then Rama, that oppressor of foes, spoke unto Vasudeva, saying, "Why, O Janardana, sittest thou, gazing silently? O Achyuta, it was for thy sake that the son of Pritha had been welcomed and honoured by us. It seemeth, however, that that vile wretch deserved not our homage. What man is there born of a respectable family that would break the plate after having dined from it! Even if one desireth to make such an alliance, yet remembering all the services he hath received, who is there, desirous of happiness, that acts so rashly? That Pandava disregarding us and thee too hath today outraged Subhadra, desiring (to compass) his own death. He hath placed his foot on the crown of my head. How shall I, O Govinda, tamely bear it? Shall I not resent it, even like a snake that is trodden upon? Alone shall I today make the earth destitute of Kauravas! Never shall I put up with this transgression by Arjuna." Then all the Bhojas, Vrishnis, and Andhakas, present there, approved of everything that Valadeva had said, deeply roaring like unto a kettle-drum or the clouds.'" SECTION CCXXIII (Haranaharana Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'When the heroes of the Vrishni race began to speak repeatedly in this strain, Vasudeva uttered these words pregnant with deep import and consistent with true morality. "Gudakesa (the conqueror of sleep or he of the curly hair), by what he hath done, hath not insulted our family. He hath without doubt, rather enhanced our respect. Partha knoweth that we of the Satwata race are never mercenary. The son of Pandu also regardeth a self-choice as doubtful in its results. Who also would approve of accepting a bride in gift as if she were an animal? What man again is there on earth that would sell his offspring? I think Arjuna, seeing these faults in all the other methods took the maiden away by force, according to the ordinance. This alliance is very proper. Subhadra is a renowned girl. Partha too possesseth renown. Perhaps, thinking of all this, Arjuna hath taken her away by force. Who is there that would not desire to have Arjuna for a friend, who is born in the race of Bharata and the renowned Santanu, and the son also of the daughter of Kuntibhoja? I do not see, in all the worlds with Indra and the Rudras, the person that can by force vanquish Partha in battle, except the three-eyed god Mahadeva. His car is well-known. Yoked thereunto are those steeds of mine. Partha as a warrior is well-known; and his lightness of hand is well-known. Who shall be equal to him? Even this is my opinion: go ye cheerfully after Dhananjaya and by conciliation stop him and bring him back. If Partha goes to his city after having vanquished us by force, our fame will be gone. There is no disgrace, however, in conciliation." Hearing, O monarch, those words of Vasudeva, they did as he directed. Stopped by them, Arjuna returned to Dwaraka and was united in marriage with Subhadra. Worshipped by the sons of Vrishni's race, Arjuna, sporting there as he pleased, passed a whole year in Dwaraka. The last year of his exile the exalted one passed at the sacred region of Pushkara. After the twelve years were complete he came back to Khandavaprastha. He approached the king first and then worshipped the Brahmanas with respectful attention. At last the hero went unto Draupadi. Draupadi, from jealousy, spoke unto him, saying, "Why tarriest thou here, O son of Kunti? Go where the daughter of the Satwata race is!" And Krishna lamented much in this strain. But Dhananjaya pacified her repeatedly and asked for her forgiveness. And returning soon unto where Subhadra, attired in red silk, was staying, Arjuna, sent her into the inner apartments dressed not as a queen but in the simple garb of a cowherd woman. But arrived at the palace, the renowned Subhadra looked handsomer in that dress. The celebrated Bhadra of large and slightly red eyes first worshipped Pritha. Kunti from excess of affection smelt the head of that girl of perfectly faultless features, and pronounced infinite blessing upon her. Then that girl of face like the full moon hastily went unto Draupadi and worshipped her, saying, "I am thy maid!" Krishna rose hastily and embraced the sister of Madhava from affection, and said, "Let thy husband be without a foe!" Bhadra then, with a delighted heart, said unto Draupadi, "So be it!" From that time, O Janamejaya, those great warriors, the Pandavas, began to live happily, and Kunti also became very happy. "Vaisampayana continued, 'When that scorcher of foes, viz., Kesava of pure soul and eyes like lotus-petals, heard that the foremost of the Pandavas, viz., Arjuna, had reached his own excellent city of Indraprastha, he came thither accompanied by Rama and the other heroes and great warriors of the Vrishni and the Andhaka tribes, and by his brothers and sons and many other brave warriors. And Saurin came accompanied by a large army that protected him. And there came with Saurin, that oppressor of foes, viz., the exceedingly liberal Akrura of great intelligence and renown, the generalissimo of the brave Vrishni host. And there also came Anadhrishti of great prowess, and Uddhava of great renown, of great intelligence, of great soul, and a disciple of Vrihaspati himself. And there also came Satyaka and Salyaka and Kritavarman and Satwata; and Pradyumna and Samva and Nisatha and Sanku; and Charudeshna, and Jhilli of great prowess, and Viprithu also and Sarana of mighty arms and Gada, the foremost of learned men. These and many other Vrishnis and Bhojas, and Andhakas came to Indraprastha, bringing with them many nuptial presents. King Yudhishthira, hearing that Madhava had arrived, sent the twins out to receive him. Received by them, the Vrishni host of great prosperity entered Khandavaprastha well-adorned with flags and ensigns. The streets were well- swept and watered and decked with floral wreaths and bunches. These were, again, sprinkled over with sandalwood water that was fragrant and cooling. Every part of the town was filled with the sweet scent of burning aloes. And the city was full of joyous and healthy people and adorned with merchants and traders. That best of men, viz., Kesava of mighty arms, accompanied by Rama and many of the Vrishnis, Andhakas and Bhojas, having entered the town, was worshipped by the citizens and Brahmanas by thousands. At last Kesava entered the palace of the king which was like unto the mansion of Indra himself. Beholding Rama, Yudhishthira received him with due ceremonies. The king smelt the head of Kesava and embraced him. Govinda, gratified with the reception, humbly worshipped Yudhishthira. He also paid homage unto Bhima, that tiger among men. Yudhishthira the son of Kunti then received the other principal men of the Vrishni and the Andhaka tribes with due ceremonies. Yudhishthira reverentially worshipped some as his superiors, and welcomed others as equals. And some he received with affection and by some he was worshipped with reverence. Then Hrishikesa of great renown gave unto the party of the bridegroom much wealth. And unto Subhadra he gave the nuptial presents that had been given to her by her relatives. Krishna gave unto the Pandavas a thousand cars of gold furnished with rows of bells, and unto each of which were put four steeds driven by well-trained charioteers. He also gave unto them ten thousand cows belonging to the country of Mathura, and yielding much milk and all of excellent colour. Well-pleased, Janardana also gave them a thousand mares with gold harnesses and of colour white as the beams of the moon. He also gave them a thousand mules, all well-trained and possessing the speed of the wind, of white colour with black manes. And he of eyes like lotus-petals also gave unto them a thousand damsels well-skilled in assisting at bathing and at drinking, young in years and virgins all before their first-season, well-attired and of excellent complexion, each wearing a hundred pieces of gold around her neck, of skins perfectly polished, decked with every ornament, and well-skilled in every kind of personal service. Janardana also gave unto them hundreds of thousands of draft horses from the country of the Valhikas as Subhadra's excellent dower. That foremost one of Dasarha's race also gave unto Subhadra as her peculium ten carrier-loads of first class gold possessing the splendour of fire, some purified and some in a state of ore. And Rama having the plough for his weapon and always loving bravery gave unto Arjuna, as a nuptial present, a thousand elephants with secretions flowing in three streams from the three parts of their bodies (the temple, the ears, and the anus) each large as a mountain summit, irresistible in battle, decked with coverlets and bells, well-adorned with other golden ornaments, and equipped with excellent thrones on their backs. And that large wave of wealth and gems that the Yadavas presented, together with the cloths and blankets that represented its foam, and the elephants its alligators and sharks, and the flags its floating weeds swelling into large proportions, mingled with the Pandu ocean and filled it to the brim, to the great sorrow of all foes. Yudhishthira accepted all those presents and worshipped all those great warriors of the Vrishni and the Andhaka races. Those illustrious heroes of the Kuru, the Vrishni, and the Andhaka races passed their days in pleasure and merriment there like virtuous men (after death) in the celestial regions. The Kurus and the Vrishnis with joyous hearts amused themselves there, setting up at times loud shouts mingled with clappings of the hand. Spending many days in sports and merriment there, and worshipped by the Kurus all the while, the Vrishni heroes endued with great energy then returned to the city of Dwaravati. And the great warriors of the Vrishni and the Andhaka races set out with Rama in the van, carrying with them those gems of the purest rays that had been given them by those foremost ones of Kuru's race. And, O Bharata, the high- souled Vasudeva remained there with Arjuna in the delightful city of Indraprastha. And the illustrious one wandered over the banks of the Yamuna in search of deer. And he sported with Arjuna piercing with his shafts deer and wild boars. Then Subhadra, the favourite sister of Kesava, gave birth to an illustrious son, like Puloma's daughter, (the queen of heaven) bringing forth Jayanta. And the son that Subhadra brought forth was of long arms, broad chest, and eyes as large as those of a bull. That hero and oppressor of foes came to be called Abhimanyu. And the son of Arjuna, that grinder of foes and bull among men, was called Abhimanyu because he was fearless and wrathful. And that great warrior was begotten upon the daughter of the Satwata race by Dhananjaya, like fire produced in a sacrifice from within the sami wood by the process of rubbing. Upon the birth of this child, Yudhishthira, the powerful son of Kunti, gave away unto Brahmanas ten thousand cows and coins of gold. The child from his earliest years became the favourite of Vasudeva and of his father and uncles, like the moon of all the people of the world. Upon his birth, Krishna performed the usual rites of infancy. The child began to grow up like the Moon of the bright fortnight. That grinder of foes soon became conversant with the Vedas and acquired from his father the science of weapon both celestial and human, consisting of four branches and ten divisions. "'Endued with great strength, the child also acquired the knowledge of counteracting the weapons hurled at him by others, and great lightness of hand and fleetness of motion forward and backward and transverse and wheeling. Abhimanyu became like unto his father in knowledge of the scriptures and rites of religion. And Dhananjaya, beholding his son, became filled with joy. Like Maghavat beholding Arjuna, the latter beheld his son Abhimanyu and became exceedingly happy. Abhimanyu possessed the power of slaying every foe and bore on his person every auspicious mark. He was invisible in battle and broad-shouldered as the bull. Possessing a broad face as (the hood of) the snake, he was proud like the lion. Wielding a large bow, his prowess was like that of an elephant in rut. Possessed of a face handsome as the full-moon, and of a voice deep as the sound of the drum or the clouds, he was equal unto Krishna in bravery and energy, in beauty and in features. The auspicious Panchali also, from her five husbands, obtained five sons all of whom were heroes of the foremost rank and immovable in battle like the hills. Prativindhya by Yudhishthira, Sutasoma by Vrikodara, Srutakarman by Arjuna, Satanika by Nakula, and Srutasena by Sahadeva,--these were the five heroes and great warriors that Panchali brought forth, like Aditi bringing forth the Adityas. And the Brahmanas, from their foreknowledge, said unto Yudhishthira that as the son of his would be capable of bearing like the Vindhya mountains the weapons of the foe, he should be called Prativindhya. And because the child that Draupadi bore to Bhimasena was born after Bhima had performed a thousand Soma sacrifices, he came to be called Sutasoma. And because Arjuna's son was born upon his return from exile during which he had achieved many celebrated feats, that child came to be called Srutakarman. While Nakula named his son Satanika after a royal sage of that name, in the illustrious race of Kuru. Again the son that Draupadi bore to Sahadeva was born under the constellation called Vahni-daivata (Krittika), therefore was he called after the generalissimo of the celestial host, Srutasena (Kartikeya). The sons of Draupadi were born, each at the interval of one year, and all of them became renowned and much attached to one another. And, O monarch, all their rites of infancy and childhood, such as Chudakarana and Upanayana (first shave of the head and investiture with the sacred threads) were performed by Dhaumya according to the ordinance. All of them, of excellent behaviour and vows, after having studied the Vedas, acquired from Arjuna a knowledge of all the weapons, celestial and human. And, O tiger among kings, the Pandavas, having obtained sons all of whom were equal unto the children of the celestials and endued with broad chests, and all of whom became great warriors, were filled with joy.'" SECTION CCXXIV (Khandava-daha Parva) "Vaisampayana said, 'The Pandavas, after they had taken up their abode at Indraprastha at the command of Dhritarashtra and Bhishma began to bring other kings under their sway. All the subjects (of the kingdom) lived most happily depending upon Yudhishthira the just, like a soul living happily depending upon a body blest with auspicious marks and pious deeds. And, O bull in Bharata's race, Yudhishthira paid homage unto virtue, pleasure, and profit, in judicious proportion, as if each were a friend dear unto him as his own self. It seemed as if the three pursuits--virtue, pleasure, and profit--became personified on earth, and amongst them the king shone as a fourth. The subjects having obtained Yudhishthira as their king, obtained in their monarch one that was devoted to the study of the Vedas, one that was performer of the great sacrifices, and one that was protector of all good people. In consequence of Yudhishthira's influence, the good fortune of all the monarchs of the earth became stationary, and their hearts became devoted to the meditation of the Supreme Spirit, and virtue itself began to grow every way all round. And in the midst of and assisted by his four brothers, the king looked more resplendent (than he would have done if he were alone), like a great sacrifice depending upon and assisted by the four Vedas. Many learned Brahmanas with Dhananjaya at their head, each like unto Vrihaspati, waited upon the monarch, like the celestials waiting upon the Lord of the creation. From excess of affection, the eyes and hearts of all the people equally took great delight in Yudhishthira who was even as the full moon without a stain. The people took delight in him not only because he was their king but also from sincere affection. The king always did what was agreeable to them. The sweet-speeched Yudhishthira of great intelligence never uttered anything that was improper or untrue or unbearable or disagreeable. The best of monarchs of the Bharata race, endued with great energy, passed his days happily for the welfare of all as his own. His brothers also bringing by their energy other kings under their sway, passed their days in happiness, without a foe to disturb their peace. "'After a few days, Vibhatsu, addressing Krishna, said, "The summer days have set in, O Krishna! Therefore, let us go to the banks of the Yamuna. O slayer of Madhu, sporting there in the company of friends, we will, O Janardana, return in the evening." Thereupon Vasudeva said, "O son of Kunti, this is also my wish. Let us, O Partha, sport in the waters as we please, in the company of friends."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then, O Bharata, having consulted thus with each other, Partha and Govinda, with Yudhishthira's leave, set out, surrounded by friends. Reaching a fine spot (on the banks of the Yamuna) suitable for purposes of pleasure, overgrown with numerous tall trees and covered with several high mansions that made the place look like the celestial city and within which had been collected for Krishna and Partha numerous costly and well-flavoured viands and drinks and other articles of enjoyment and floral wreaths and various perfumes, the party entered without delay the inner apartments adorned with many precious gems of pure rays. Entering those apartments, everybody, O Bharata, began to sport, according to his pleasure. The women of the party, all of full rotund hips and deep bosoms and handsome eyes, and gait unsteady with wine began to sport there at the command of Krishna and Partha. Some amongst the women sported as they liked in the woods, some in the waters, and some within the mansions, as directed by Partha and Govinda. Draupadi and Subhadra, exhilarated with wine, began to give away unto the women so sporting, their costly robes and ornaments. And some amongst those women began to dance in joy, and some began to sing; and some amongst them began to laugh and jest, and some to drink excellent wines. Some began to obstruct one another's progress and some to fight with one another, and to discourse with one another in private. Those mansions and the woods, filled with the charming music of flutes and guitars and kettledrums, became the scene of Prosperity personified. "'When such was the state of things there, Arjuna and Vasudeva went to a certain charming spot (in those woods) not far from the place where the others were. O monarch, the high-souled Krishna, and that subjugator of hostile cities, viz., Arjuna, going thither, sat down upon two very costly seats. Vasudeva and Partha amused themselves there with discoursing upon many past achievements of prowess and other topics. Unto Vasudeva and Dhananjaya happily sitting there like the Aswins in heaven, a certain Brahmana came. The Brahmana that came there looked like a tall Sala tree. His complexion was like unto molten gold; his beard was bright yellow tinged with green; and the height and the thickness of the body were in just proportion. Of matted locks and dressed in rags, he resembled the morning sun in splendour. Of eyes like lotus-petals and of a tawny hue, he seemed to be blazing with effulgence. Beholding that foremost of Brahmanas blazing with splendour approach towards them both Arjuna and Vasudeva, hastily rising from their seats, stood, waiting (for his commands).'" SECTION CCXXV (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then that Brahmana addressed Arjuna and Vasudeva of the Satwata race, saying, "Ye who are now staying so near unto Khandava are the two foremost of heroes on earth. I am a voracious Brahmana that always eateth much. O thou of the Vrishni race, and O Partha, I solicit you to gratify me by giving me sufficient food." Thus addressed by the Brahmana, Krishna and the son of Pandu answered him, saying, "O, tell us what kind of food will gratify thee so that we may endeavour to give it thee." The illustrious Brahmana, thus replied to, said unto those heroes who were enquiring after the kind of food he sought, "I do not desire to eat ordinary food. Know that I am Agni! Give me that food which suiteth me. This forest of Khandava is always protected by Indra. And as it is protected by the illustrious one, I always fail to consume it. In that forest dwelleth, with his followers and family, a Naga, called Takshaka, who is the friend of Indra. It is for him that the wielder of the thunderbolt protecteth this forest. Many other creatures also are thus protected here for the sake of Takshaka. Desiring to consume the forest I succeed not in my attempts in consequence of Indra's prowess. Beholding me blazing forth, he always poureth upon me water from the clouds. Therefore, I succeed not in consuming the forest of Khandava, although I desire very much to do so. I have now come to you--you who are both skilled in weapons! If you help me I will surely consume this forest: for even this is the food that is desired by me! As ye are conversant with excellent weapons, I pray you to prevent those showers from descending and any of the creatures from escaping, when I begin to consume this forest!"' "Janamejaya said, 'Why did the illustrious Agni desire to consume the forest of Khandava that was filled with various living creatures and protected by the chief of the celestials? When Agni consumed in wrath the forest of Khandava, it is evident there was a grave cause. I desire, O Brahmana, to hear all this in detail from thee. Tell me, O sage, how the Khandava forest was consumed in days of yore.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O chief of men, I will narrate to you the story of the conflagration of Khandava as told by Rishis in the Purana. It hath been heard, O king, in the Purana that there was a celebrated king of the name of Swetaki who was endued with strength and prowess and who was equal unto Indra himself. No one on earth has equalled him in sacrifices, charity, and intelligence. Swetaki performed the five great sacrifices and many others, at all of which the presents unto Brahmanas were large. The heart of that monarch, O king, was always set upon sacrifices, religious rites, and gifts of all kinds. And king Swetaki of great intelligence, assisted by his Ritwiks performed sacrifices for many long years, till those sacrificial priests with eyes afflicted by the continued smoke and becoming very weak, left that monarch, wishing never more to assist at his sacrifices. The king, however, repeatedly asked those Ritwiks to come to him. But they came not to his sacrifice in consequence of the painful state of their eyes. The king, therefore, invited at the command of his own Ritwiks, others like unto them, and completed the sacrifice that he had begun. After some days had elapsed, king Swetaki desired to perform another sacrifice which should extend for a hundred years. But the illustrious monarch obtained not any priest to assist him in it. The celebrated king then, with his friends and relatives, casting off all sloth, repeatedly courted his priests with great persistence, by bowing down unto them, by conciliatory speeches, and by gifts of wealth. All of them, however, refused to accomplish the purpose which that king of immeasurable energy had in view. Then that royal sage, getting angry, addressed those Brahmanas sitting in their asylums, and said, "If, ye Brahmanas, I were a fallen person, or, if, I were wanting in homage and service to you, I should then deserve to be abandoned without scruple by you and by other Brahmanas at the same time. But as I am neither degraded nor wanting in homage to you, it behoveth you not to obstruct the performance by me of my sacrifice or to abandon me thus, ye foremost of Brahmanas, without adequate reason. I seek, ye Brahmanas, your protection! It behoveth you to be propitious unto me. But, ye foremost of Brahmanas, if you abandon me from enmity alone or any improper motive, I shall go unto other priests for their assistance in this sacrifice of mine, and conciliating them by sweet words and gifts, I shall represent unto them the business I have on hand, so that they may accomplish it." Having said this, the monarch became silent. And, O chastiser of foes, when those priests well knew that they could not assist at the king's sacrifice, they pretended to be angry, and addressing that best of monarchs said, "O best of kings, thy sacrifices are incessant! By assisting thee always, we have all been fatigued. And as we have been wearied in consequence of these labours, it behoveth thee to give us leave. O sinless one, from loss of judgment thou canst not wait (but urgest us repeatedly). Go unto Rudra! He will assist at thy sacrifice!" Hearing those words of censure and wrath, king Swetaki became angry. And the monarch wending to the mountains of Kailasa, devoted himself to asceticism there. And, O king, the monarch began to worship Mahadeva, with fixed attention, and by observing the most rigid vows. And foregoing all food at times, he passed a long period. The monarch ate only fruits and roots sometimes at the twelfth and sometimes at the sixteenth hour of the whole day. King Swetaki stood for six months, rapt in attention, with arms upraised and steadfast eyes, like the trunk of a tree or a column rooted to the ground. And, O Bharata, Sankara at last gratified with that tiger among kings, who was undergoing such hard penances, showed himself unto him. And the god spake unto the monarch in a calm and grave voice, saying, "O tiger among kings, O chastiser of foes, I have been gratified with thee for thy asceticism! Blest be thou! Ask now the boon that thou, O king, desirest." Hearing these words of Rudra of immeasurable energy, the royal sage bowed unto that deity and replied, saying, "O illustrious one, O thou that art worshipped by the three worlds, if thou hast been gratified with me, then, O god of gods, assist me thyself, O lord of the celestials, in my sacrifice!" Hearing these words spoken by the monarch, the illustrious god was gratified, and smilingly said, "We do not ourselves assist at sacrifices: but as thou, O king, hast undergone severe penances, desirous of obtaining a boon, I will, O chastiser of foes, assist at thy sacrifice, upon, O king, this condition." And Rudra continued, "If, O king of kings, thou canst, for twelve years, pour without intermission libations of clarified butter into the fire, thyself leading all the while the life of a Brahmacharin with rapt attention, then thou shalt obtain from me what thou askest." King Swetaki, thus addressed by Rudra, did all that he was directed to do by the wielder of the trident. And after twelve years had elapsed, he again came unto Maheswara. And Sankara, the Creator of the worlds upon seeing Swetaki, that excellent monarch, immediately said, in great gratification, "I have been gratified by thee, O best of kings, with this thy own act! But, O chastiser of foes, the duty of assisting at sacrifices properly belongeth to Brahmanas. Therefore, O oppressor of foes, I will not myself assist at thy sacrifice today. There is on earth an exalted Brahmana who is even a portion of my own self. He is known by the name of Durvasa. Even that Brahmana endued with great energy will assist you in thy sacrifice. Let, therefore, every preparation be made." Hearing these words uttered by Rudra, the king, returning to his own capital, began to collect all that was necessary. After everything had been collected, the monarch again presented himself before Rudra and said, "Every necessary article hath been collected, and all my preparations are complete, through thy grace, O god of gods! Let me, therefore, be installed at the sacrifice tomorrow." Having heard these words of that illustrious king, Rudra summoned Durvasa before him and said. "This, O Durvasa, is that best of monarchs called Swetaki. At my command, O best of Brahmanas, assist even this king in his sacrifice." And the Rishi Durvasa said unto Rudra, "So be it." Then the sacrifice for which king Swetaki had made those preparations, took place. And the illustrious monarch's sacrifice was performed according to the ordinance and in proper season. And the gifts, on that occasion, unto the Brahmanas were large. And after that monarch's sacrifice had come to an end, all the other priests who had come to assist at it went away with Durvasa's leave. All other Sadasyas also of immeasurable energy, who had been installed at that sacrifice, then went away. That exalted monarch then entered his own palace, worshipped by exalted Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas, eulogised by chanters of panegyrical hymns and congratulated by the citizens. "'Such was the history of that best of monarchs, the royal sage Swetaki, who, when the time came, ascended to heaven, having won great renown on earth, and accompanied by the Ritwiks and the Sadasyas that had helped him in life.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'At that sacrifice of Swetaki, Agni had drunk clarified butter for twelve years. Indeed, clarified butter had been poured into Agni's mouth in a continuous stream for that period. Having drunk so much butter, Agni, satiated, desired not to drink butter again from the hand of anybody else at any other sacrifice. Agni became pale, having lost his colour, and he could not shine as before. He felt a loss of appetite from surfeit, and his energy itself decreased and sickness afflicted him. Then when the drinker of sacrificial libations perceived that his energy was gradually diminishing, he went to the sacred abode of Brahman that is worshipped by all. Approaching the great Deity seated on his seat, Agni said, "O exalted one, Swetaki hath (by his sacrifice) gratified me to excess. Even now I am suffering from surfeit which I cannot dispel. O Lord of the universe, I am being reduced both in splendour and strength. I desire to regain, through thy grace, my own permanent nature." Hearing these words from Hutavaha, the illustrious Creator of all things smilingly replied unto him, saying, "O exalted one, thou hast eaten, for twelve years, a continuous stream of sacrificial butter poured into thy mouth! It is for this that illness hath seized thee. But, O Agni, grieve not for it. Thou shalt soon regain thy own nature. I shall dispel this surfeit of thine and the time for it is even come. The dreadful forest Khandava, that abode of the enemies of the gods, which thou hadst of old once consumed to ashes at the request of the gods, hath now become the home of numerous creatures. When thou will have eaten the fat of those creatures, thou shalt regain thy own nature. Proceed thither in haste to consume that forest with its living population. Thou wilt then be cured of thy malady." Hearing the words that fell from the lips of the Supreme Deity, Hutasana proceeded with great speed and soon reached the forest of Khandava in great vigour. Arrived there, he suddenly blazed forth in anger, assisted by Vayu. Beholding Khandava on fire the dwellers (in the forest) that were there, made great efforts to extinguish the conflagration. Elephants by hundreds of thousands, speeding in anger, brought water in their trunks and scattered it upon the fire. Thousands of many-hooded snakes, mad with anger, hastily began to scatter upon fire much water from those many hoods of theirs. And so, O bull of Bharata's race, the other creatures dwelling in that forest, by various appliances and efforts, soon extinguished the fire. In this way, Agni blazed forth in Khandava repeatedly, even for seven times. And it was in this way that the blazing fire was extinguished there as often by the denizens of that forest.'" SECTION CCXXVI (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Havyavahana (Agni) in anger and disappointment, with his ailment uncured, went to the Grandsire. And he represented unto Brahman all that had happened: The illustrious deity, reflecting for a moment, said unto him, "O sinless one, I see a way by which thou mayest consume the forest of Khandava today in the very sight of Indra. Those old deities, Nara and Narayana, have become incarnate in the world of men to accomplish the business of the celestials. They are called on earth Arjuna and Vasudeva. They are even now staying in the forest of Khandava. Solicit them for aiding thee in consuming that forest. Thou shalt then consume the forest even if it be protected by the celestials. They will certainly prevent the population of Khandava from escaping, and thwart Indra also (in aiding any one in the escape). I have no doubt of this!" Hearing these words, Agni came in haste unto Krishna and Partha. O king, I have already told thee what he said, having approached the illustrious pair. O tiger among kings, hearing those words of Agni who was desirous of consuming the forest of Khandava against the will of Indra, Vibhatsu said unto him these words well-suited to the occasion, "I have numberless excellent celestial weapons with which I can fight even many wielders of the thunderbolt. But, O exalted one, I have no bow suited to the strength of my arms, and capable of bearing the might I may put forth in battle. In consequence of the lightness of my hands also I require arrows that must never be exhausted. My car also is scarcely able to bear the load of arrows that I would desire to keep by me. I desire celestial steeds of pure white, possessing the speed of the wind; and a car possessing the splendour of the sun and the clatter of whose wheels should resemble the roar of the clouds. Then, there is no weapon suited to Krishna's energy and with which Madhava can slay Nagas and Pisachas. O exalted one, it behoveth thee to give us the means by which success may be achieved and by which we may thwart Indra in pouring his showers upon that extensive forest. O Pavaka, we are ready to do all that manliness and prowess can do. But, O exalted one, it behoveth thee to give us the adequate means."'" SECTION CCXXVII (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by Arjuna, the smoke-bannered Hutasana, desirous of an interview with Varuna, recollected that son of Aditi,--that deity protecting one of the points of the heavens and having his home in the water and ruling that element. Varuna, knowing that he was thought of by Pavaka, immediately appeared before that deity. The smoke- bannered celestial welcoming with reverence the ruler of the waters, that fourth of the Lokapalas, said unto that eternal god of gods, "Give me without loss of time that bow and quiver, and that ape-bannered car also, which were obtained from king Soma. Partha will achieve a great task with Gandiva, and Vasudeva also with the discus! Give both, therefore, unto me today." Hearing these words, Varuna replied unto Pavaka, saying, "Well, I am giving them." He then gave that wonderful jewel of a bow that was endued with great energy. That bow was the enhancer of fame and achievements, and was incapable of being injured by any weapon. It was the chief of all weapons, and the grinder of them all. And it was the smiter of hostile armies and was alone equal to a hundred thousand bows. It was the multiplier of kingdoms, and was variegated with excellent colours. It was well-adorned, and beautiful to behold, and without a mark of weakness or injury anywhere. And it was always worshipped both by the celestials and the Gandharvas. Varuna also gave two inexhaustible quivers, and he also gave a car furnished with celestial weapons and whose banner bore a large ape. Yoked unto that car were steeds white as silver of the fleecy clouds, and born in the region of the Gandharvas, and decked with golden harness, and resembling in fleetness the wind or the mind. And it was equipped with implement of war, and was incapable of being vanquished by the celestials or the Asuras. Its splendour was great and the sounds of its wheels was tremendous. It delighted the heart of every creature that looked at it. It had been made by Viswakarman, the architect of the universe and one of the lords of creation, after severe ascetic meditation. Its splendour, like that of the sun, was so great that no one could gaze at it. It was the very car from which the lord Soma had vanquished the Danavas. Resplendent with beauty, it looked like an evening cloud reflecting the effulgence of the setting sun. It was furnished with an excellent flag-staff of golden colour and great beauty. And there sat upon that flag-staff a celestial ape of form fierce like that of a lion or a tiger. Stationed on high, the ape seemed bent upon burning everything it beheld. And upon the (other) flags were various creatures of large size, whose roars and yells caused the enemy's soldiers to faint. Then Arjuna, accoutred in mail and armed with the sword, and his fingers cased in leathern gloves, walking round that excellent car adorned with numerous flags and bowing unto the gods, ascended it like a virtuous man riding in the celestial car that bears him to heaven. And taking up that celestial and first of bows created by Brahman of old and called Gandiva, Arjuna was filled with joy. And bowing unto Hutasana, Partha endued with great energy, took up the bow and strung it forcibly. Those who heard the noise that was made while the mighty Pandava strung that bow, quaked with fear. And having obtained that car and that bow, and the two inexhaustible quivers, the son of Kunti became glad and thought himself competent to assist at the task. And Pavaka then gave unto Krishna a discus with an iron pole attached to a hole in the centre. And it was a fiery weapon and became his favourite. Having obtained that weapon, Krishna also became equal to the task. Pavaka then, addressing Krishna, said, "With this, O slayer of Madhu, thou shalt be able without doubt to vanquish in battle even foes that are not human. With this weapon, without doubt, thou shalt be superior in battle to men and gods, and Rakshasas and Pisachas, and Daityas and Nagas. And thou shalt certainly be able with this to smite all. And, O Madhava, hurled by thee in battle at thy foes, this weapon will irresistibly slay the enemy and again come back into thy hands." And the lord Varuna, after this, gave unto Krishna a mace, of name Kaumodaki, capable of slaying every Daitya and producing, when hurled, a roar like that of the thunder. Then Arjuna and Achyuta, filled with joy said unto Pavaka, "O exalted one, furnished with weapons and knowing their use, possessed of cars with flags and flagstaffs, we are now able to fight with even all the celestials and the Asuras (together), let alone the wielder of the thunderbolt desirous of fighting for the sake of the Naga (his friend Takshaka)." Arjuna also said, "O Pavaka, while Hrishikesa, endued with abundant energy, moves on the field of battle with this discus in hand, there is nothing in the three worlds that he will not be able to consume by hurling this weapon. Having obtained the bow Gandiva and this couple of inexhaustible quivers I also am ready to conquer in battle the three worlds. Therefore, O lord, blaze thou forth as thou likest, surrounding this large forest on every side. We are quite able to help thee."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed both by Dasarha and Arjuna, the illustrious god then put forth his most energetic form, and prepared to consume the forest. Surrounding it on all sides with his seven flames, he began to consume the forest of Khandava, exhibiting his all-consuming form like that at the end of the Yuga (cycle). And, O bull of Bharata's race, surrounding that forest and catching it from all sides with a roar like that of the clouds, Agni made every creature within it tremble. And, O Bharata, that burning forest then looked resplendent like the king of mountains, Meru, blazing with the rays of the sun fallen thereupon.'" SECTION CCXXVIII (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then those foremost of car-warriors (Krishna and Arjuna), riding in their cars and placing themselves on opposite sides of that forest, began a great slaughter, on all sides, of the creatures dwelling in Khandava. At whatever point any of the creatures residing in Khandava could be seen attempting to escape, thither rushed those mighty heroes (to prevent its flight). Indeed those two excellent cars seemed to be but one, and the two warriors also therein but one individual. And while the forest was burning, hundreds and thousands of living creatures, uttering frightful yells, began to run about in all directions. Some had particular limbs burnt, some were scorched with excessive heat, and some came out, and some ran about from fear. And some clasping their children and some their parents and brothers, died calmly without, from excess of affection, being able to abandon those that were dear to them. And many there were who biting their nether lips rose upwards and soon fell whirling into the blazing element below. And some were seen to roll on the ground with wings, eyes, and feet scorched and burnt. These creatures were all seen to perish there almost soon enough. The tanks and ponds within that forest, heated by the fire around, began to boil; the fishes and the tortoises in them were all seen to perish. During that great slaughter of living creatures in that forest, the burning bodies of various animals looked as if fire itself had assumed many forms. The birds that took wings to escape from that conflagration were pierced by Arjuna with his shafts, and cut into pieces, they fell down into the burning element below. Pierced all over with Arjuna's shafts, the birds dropped down into the burning forest, uttering loud cries. The denizens of the forest, struck with those shafts, began to roar and yell. The clamour they raised was like unto the frightful uproar heard during the churning of the ocean (in days of yore). The mighty flames of the blazing fire reaching the firmament, caused great anxiety to the celestials themselves. Then all the illustrious dwellers in heaven went in a body unto him of a hundred sacrifices and thousand eyes, viz., their chief, that grinder of Asuras. Approaching Indra, the celestials said, "Why, O lord of immortals, doth Agni burn these creatures below? Hath the time come for the destruction of the world?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of the gods, and himself beholding what Agni was doing, the slayer of Vritra set out for the protection of the forest of Khandava. And Vasava, the chief of the celestials soon covering the sky with masses of clouds of every kind began to shower upon the burning forest. Those masses of clouds by hundreds and thousands, commanded by Indra began to pour rain upon Khandava in showers thick as the flag-staffs of battle-cars. But the showers were all dried up in the sky itself by the heat of the fire and could not, therefore, reach the fire at all! Then the slayer of Namuchi, getting angry with Agni, collected huge masses of clouds and caused them to yield a heavy downpour. Then with the flames contending with those heavy showers, and with masses of clouds overhead, that forest, filled with smoke and flashes of lightning, became terrible to behold.'" SECTION CCXXIX (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Vibhatsu, the son of Pandu, invoking his excellent weapons, prevented that shower of rain by Indra, by means of a shower of his own weapons. And Arjuna of immeasurable soul soon covered the forest of Khandava with innumerable arrows like the moon covering the atmosphere with a thick fog. When the sky above that forest was thus covered with the arrows of Arjuna no living creature could then escape from below. And it so happened that while that forest was burning, Takshaka, the chief of the Nagas, was not there, having gone at that time to the field of Kurukshetra. But Aswasena, the mighty son of Takshaka, was there. He made great efforts to escape from that fire; but confined by Arjuna's shafts he succeeded not in finding a way. It was then that his mother, the daughter of a snake, determined to save him by swallowing him first. His mother first swallowed his head and then was swallowing his tail. And desirous of saving her son, the sea-snake rose (up from the earth) while still employed in swallowing her son's tail. But Arjuna as soon as he beheld her escaping, severed her head from her body by means of a sharp and keen-edged arrow. Indra saw all this, and desiring to save his friend's son, the wielder of the thunderbolt, by raising a violent wind, deprived Arjuna of consciousness. During those few moments, Aswasena succeeded in effecting his escape. Beholding that manifestation of the power of illusion, and deceived by that snake, Arjuna was much enraged. He forthwith cut every animal seeking to escape by the skies, into two, three, or more pieces. And Vibhatsu in anger, and Agni, and Vasudeva also, cursed the snake that had escaped so deceitfully, saying, "Never shalt thou be famous!" And Jishnu remembering the deception practised upon him, became angry, and covering the firmament with a cloud of arrows, sought to fight with him of a thousand eyes. The chief of the celestials also, seeing Arjuna in anger, sought to fight with him, and hurled his own fierce weapons, covering the wide expanse of the firmament. Then the winds, making a loud roar and agitating all the oceans, brought together masses of clouds in the sky, charged with torrents of rain. Those masses of clouds began to vomit thunder and terrible flashes of lightning charged with the thunderclap. Then Arjuna possessing a knowledge of means, hurled the excellent weapon called Vayavya with proper mantras to dispel those clouds. With that weapon the energy and force of Indra's thunderbolt and of those clouds were destroyed. And the torrents of rain with which those clouds were charged were all dried up, and the lightning that played amongst them was also destroyed. Within a moment the sky was cleared of dust and darkness, and a delicious, cool breeze began to blow and the disc of the sun resumed its normal state. Then the eater of clarified butter (Agni), glad because none could baffle him, assumed various forms, and sprinkled over with the fat exuded by the bodies of creatures, blazed forth with all his flames, filling the universe with his roar. Then numerous birds of the Garuda tribe bearing excellent feathers, beholding that the forest was protected by Krishna and Arjuna, descended filled with pride, from the upper skies, desirous of striking those heroes with their thunderlike wings, beaks and claws. Innumerable Nagas also, with faces emitting fire descending from high, approached Arjuna, vomiting the most virulent poison all the while. Beholding them approach, Arjuna cut them into pieces by means of arrows steeped in the fire of his own wrath. Then those birds and snakes, deprived of life, fell into the burning element below. And there came also, desirous of battle, innumerable Asuras with Gandharvas and Yakshas and Rakshasas and Nagas sending forth terrific yells. Armed with machines vomiting from their throats (mouths) iron balls and bullets, and catapults for propelling huge stones, and rockets, they approached to strike Krishna and Partha, their energy and strength increased by wrath. But though they rained a perfect shower of weapons, Vibhatsu, addressing them reproachfully, struck off their heads with his own sharp arrows. That slayer of foes, Krishna, also, endued with great energy, made a great slaughter of the Daitya and the Danava with his discus. Many Asuras of immeasurable might, pierced with Krishna's arrows and smitten with the force of his discus, became motionless like waifs and strays stranded on the bank by the violence of the waves. Then Sakra the lord of the celestials, riding on his white elephant, rushed at those heroes, and taking up his thunderbolt which could never go in vain, hurled it with great force. And the slayer of Asuras said unto the gods, "These two are slain." Beholding the fierce thunderbolt about to be hurled by their chief, the celestials all took up their respective weapons. Yama, O king, took up the death-dealing mace, and Kuvera his spiked club, and Varuna his noose and beautiful missile. And Skanda (Kartikeya) took up his long lance and stood motionless like the mountain of Meru. The Aswins stood there with resplendent plants in their hands. Dhatri stood, bow in hand, and Jaya with a thick club. Tvashtri of great strength took up in wrath, a huge mountain and Surya stood with a bright dart, and Mrityu with a battle-axe. Aryaman stalked about with a terrible bludgeon furnished with sharp spikes, and Mitra stood there with a discus sharp as a razor. And, O monarch, Pusha and Bhaga and Savitri, in wrath, rushed at Krishna and Partha with bows and scimitars in hand. And Rudras and the Vasus, the mighty Maruts and the Viswedevas and the Sadhyas, all resplendent with their own energy,--these and many other celestials, armed with various weapons rushed against those exalted of men, Krishna and Partha, for smiting them down. Then were seen in that great conflict wonderful portents all around robbing every creature of his sense, and resembling those that appeared at the time of the universal dissolution. But Arjuna and Krishna, fearless and invincible in battle, beholding Sakra and the other celestials prepared for fight, calmly waited, bows in hands. Skilled in battle, those heroes in wrath assailed the advancing host of celestials with their own thunderlike arrows. The celestials repeatedly routed by Krishna and Arjuna, at last left the field of battle for fear and sought the protection of Indra. The Munis who were witnessing the battle from the skies, beholding the celestials defeated by Madhava and Arjuna, were filled with wonder. Sakra also repeatedly witnessing their prowess in battle, became exceedingly gratified, and once more rushed to the assault. The chastiser of Paka then caused a heavy shower of stones, desiring to ascertain the prowess of Arjuna who was able to draw the bow even with his left hand. Arjuna, in great wrath, dispelled with his arrows that thick shower. Then he of a hundred sacrifices beholding that shower baffled, once more caused a thicker shower of stones. But the son of the chastiser of Paka (viz., Arjuna) gratified his father by baffling that shower also with his swift arrows. Then Sakra, desirous of smiting down the son of Pandu, tore up with his hands a large peak from Mandara, with tall trees on it, and hurled it against him. But Arjuna divided that mountain-peak into a thousand pieces by his swift-going and fire-mouthed arrows. The fragments of that mountain, in falling through the skies, looked as if the sun and the moon and the planets, displaced from their positions fell down on earth. That huge peak fell down upon that forest and by its fall killed numerous living creatures that dwelt in Khandava.'" SECTION CCXXX (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Then the inhabitants of the forest of Khandava, the Danavas and Rakshasas and Nagas and wolves and bears and other wild animals, and elephants with rent temples, and tigers, and lions with manes and deer and buffaloes by hundreds, and birds, and various other creatures, frightened at the falling stones and extremely anxious, began to fly in all directions. They saw the forest (burning all around) and Krishna and Arjuna also ready with their weapons. Frightened at the terrible sounds that were audible there those creatures lost their power of movement. Beholding the forest burning in innumerable places and Krishna also ready to smite them down with his weapons, they all set up a frightful roar. With that terrible clamour as also with the roar of fire, the whole welkin resounded, as it were, with the voice of portentous clouds. Kesava of dark hue and mighty arms, in order to compass their destruction, hurled at them his large and fierce discus resplendent with its own energy. The forest- dwellers including the Danavas and the Rakshasas, afflicted by that weapon, were cut in hundreds of pieces and fell unto the mouth of Agni. Mangled by Krishna's discus, the Asuras were besmeared with blood and fat and looked like evening clouds. And, O Bharata, he of the Vrishni race moved about like death itself, slaying Pisachas and birds and Nagas and other creatures by thousands. The discus itself, repeatedly hurled from the hands of Krishna, that slayer of all foes, came back to his hands after slaughtering numberless creatures. The face and form of Krishna that soul of every created thing became fierce to behold while he was thus employed in the slaughter of the Pisachas, Nagas and Rakshasas. No one among the celestials, who had mustered there could vanquish in battle Krishna and Arjuna. When the celestials saw that they could not protect that forest from the might of Krishna and Arjuna by extinguishing that conflagration, they retired from the scene. Then, O monarch, he of a hundred sacrifices (Indra), beholding the immortals retreat, became filled with joy and applauded Krishna and Arjuna. And when the celestials gave up the fight, an incorporeal voice, deep and loud, addressing him of a hundred sacrifices, said, "Thy friend Takshaka, that chief of snakes, hath not been slain! Before the conflagration commenced in Khandava he had journeyed to Kurukshetra. Know from my words, O Vasava, that Vasudeva and Arjuna are incapable of being vanquished in battle by any one! They are Nara and Narayana--those gods of old heard of in heaven! Thou knowest what their energy is and what their prowess. Invincible in battle, these best of old Rishis are unconquerable by any one in all the worlds! They deserve the most reverential worship of all the celestials and Asuras; of Yakshas and Rakshasas and Gandharvas, of human beings and Kinnaras and Nagas. Therefore, O Vasava, it behoveth thee to go hence with all the celestials. The destruction of Khandava hath been ordained by Fate!" Then the chief of the immortals, ascertaining those words to be true abandoned his wrath and jealousy, and went back to heaven. The dwellers in heaven, O monarch, beholding the illustrious Indra abandon the fight, followed him with all their soldiers. Then those heroes, Vasudeva and Arjuna, when they saw the chief of the celestials retreat accompanied by all the gods, set up a leonine roar. And, O monarch, Kesava and Arjuna, after Indra had left the scene, became exceedingly glad. Those heroes then fearlessly assisted at the conflagration of the forest. Arjuna scattered the celestials like the wind scattering the clouds, and slew with showers of his arrows, numberless creatures that dwelt in Khandava. Cut off by Arjuna's arrows, no one amongst the innumerable creatures could escape from the burning forest. Far from fighting with him, none amongst even the strongest creatures mustered there could look at Arjuna whose weapons were never futile. Sometimes piercing hundred creatures with one shaft and sometimes a single creature with hundred shafts, Arjuna moved about in his car. The creatures themselves, deprived of life, began to fall into the mouth of Agni (god of fire), struck down as it were by death itself. On the banks of rivers or on uneven plains or on crematoriums, go where they did, the creatures (dwelling in Khandava) found no ease, for wherever they sought shelter there they were afflicted by the heat. And hosts of creatures roared in pain, and elephants and deer and wolves set up cries of affliction. At that sound the fishes of the Ganges and the sea, and the various tribes of Vidyadharas dwelling in that forest all became frightened. O thou of mighty arms, let alone battling with them, no one, could even gaze at Arjuna and Janardana of dark hue. Hari slew with his discus those Rakshasas and Danavas and Nagas that rushed at him in bands. Of huge bodies, their heads and trunks were cut off by the swift motion of the discus, and deprived of life they fell down into the blazing fire. Gratified with large quantities of flesh, blood, and fat, the flames rose up to a great height without a curling wreath of smoke. Hutasana (fire- god) with blazing and coppery eyes, and flaming tongue and large mouth, and the hair on the crown of his head all fiery, drinking, with the help of Krishna and Arjuna, that nectar-like stream of animal fat, became filled with joy. Gratified greatly, Agni derived much happiness. "'And it so happened that the slayer of Madhu suddenly beheld an Asura of the name of Maya escaping from the abode of Takshaka. Agni having Vayu for his car-driver, assuming a body with matted locks on head, and roaring like the clouds, pursued the Asura, desirous of consuming him. Beholding the Asura, Vasudeva stood with his weapon upraised, ready to smite him down, seeing the discus uplifted and Agni pursuing from behind to burn him, Maya said "Run to me, O Arjuna, and protect me!" Hearing his affrighted voice Arjuna said, "Fear not!" That voice of Arjuna, O Bharata, seemed to give Maya his life. As the merciful son of Pritha said unto Maya that there was nothing to fear, he of the Dasarha race no longer desired to slay Maya who was the brother of Namuchi, and Agni also burned him not.' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Protected from Indra by Krishna and Partha, Agni gifted with great intelligence, burned that forest for five and ten days. And while the forest burned Agni spared only six of its dwellers, viz., Aswasena, Maya, and four birds called Sarngakas.'" SECTION CCXXXI (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Janamejaya said, 'O Brahmana, tell me why and when that forest burnt in that way, Agni consumed not the birds called Sarngakas? Thou hast, O Brahmana, recited (to us) the cause of Aswasena and the Danava Maya not having been consumed. But thou hast not as yet said what the cause was of the escape of the Sarngakas? The escape of those birds, O Brahmana, appeareth to me to be wonderful. Tell us why they were not destroyed in that dreadful conflagration.' "Vaisampayana said, 'O slayer of all foes, I shall tell thee all as to why Agni did not burn up those birds during the conflagration. There was, O king, a great Rishi known by the name of Mandapala, conversant with all the shastras, of rigid vows, devoted to asceticism, and the foremost of all virtuous persons. Following in the wake of Rishis that had drawn up their virile fluid, that ascetic, O monarch, with every sense under complete control, devoted himself to study and virtue. Having reached the opposite shores of asceticism, O Bharata, he left his human form and went to the region of the Pitris. But going thither he failed to obtain the (expected) fruit of his acts. He asked the celestials that sat around the king of the dead as to the cause of his treatment, saying, "Why have these regions become unattainable by me,--regions that I had thought had been acquired by me by my ascetic devotions? Have I not performed those acts whose fruits are these regions? Ye inhabitants of heaven, tell me why these regions are shut against me! I will do that which will give me the fruit of my ascetic penances." "'The celestials answered, "Hear, O Brahmana, of those acts and things on account of which men are born debtors. Without doubt, it is for religious rites, studies according to the ordinance, and progeny, that men are born debtors. These debts are all discharged by sacrifices, asceticism, and offspring. Thou art an ascetic and hast also performed sacrifices; but thou hast no offspring. These regions are shut against thee only for want of children. Beget children, therefore! Thou shalt then enjoy multifarious regions of felicity. The Vedas declared that the son rescueth the father from a hell called Put. Then, O best of Brahmanas, strive to beget offspring."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Mandapala, having heard these words of the dwellers in heaven, reflected how best he could obtain the largest number of offspring within the shortest period of time. The Rishi, after reflection, understood that of all creatures birds alone were blest with fecundity. Assuming the form of a Sarngaka the Rishi had connection with a female bird of the same species called by the name of Jarita. And he begat upon her four sons who were all reciters of the Vedas. Leaving all those sons of his with their mother in that forest, while they were still within eggs, the ascetic went to (another wife called by the name of) Lapita. And, O Bharata, when the exalted sage went away for the company of Lapita, moved by affection for her offspring, Jarita became very thoughtful. Though forsaken by their father in the forest of Khandava, Jarita, anxious in her affection for them, could not forsake her offspring, those infant Rishis encased in eggs. Moved by parental affection, she brought up these children born of her, herself following the pursuits proper to her own species. Some time after, the Rishi, in wandering over that forest in the company of Lapita, saw Agni coming towards Khandava to burn it down. Then the Brahmana Mandapala, knowing the intention of Agni and remembering also that his children were all young moved by fear, gratified the god, of the burning element, that regent of the universe, endued with great energy. And he did this, desiring to put in a word for his unfledged offspring. Addressing Agni, the Rishi said, "Thou art, O Agni, the mouth of all the worlds! Thou art the carrier of the sacrificial butter! O purifier (of all sins), thou movest invisible with the frame of every creature! The learned have spoken of thee as an One, and again as possessed of triple nature. The wise perform their sacrifices before thee, taking thee as consisting of eight (mouths). The great Rishis declare that this universe hath been created by thee. O thou that feedest on sacrificial butter, without thee this whole universe would be destroyed in a single day. Bowing to thee, the Brahmanas, accompanied by their wives and children, go to eternal regions won by them by help of their own deeds. O Agni, the learned represent thee as the clouds in the heavens charged with lightning. O Agni, the flames put forth by thee consume every creature. O thou of great splendour, this universe hath been created by thee. The Vedas are thy word. All creatures, mobile and immobile, depend upon thee. Water primarily dependeth on thee, so also the whole of this universe. All offerings of clarified butter and oblations of food to the pitris have been established in thee. O god, thou art the consumer, and thou art the creator and thou art Vrihaspati himself (in intelligence). Thou art the twin Aswins; thou art Surya; thou art Soma; thou art Vayu." "Vaisampayana continued, 'O monarch, thus praised by Mandapala, Agni was gratified with that Rishi of immeasurable energy; and the god, well- pleased, replied, "What good can I do to thee?" Then Mandapala with joined palms said unto the carrier of clarified butter, "While thou burnest the forest of Khandava, spare my children." The illustrious bearer of clarified butter replied, "So be it." It was, therefore, O monarch, that he blazed not forth, while consuming the forest of Khandava, for the destruction of Mandapala's children.'" SECTION CCXXXII (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'When the fire blazed forth in the forest of Khandava, the infant birds became very much distressed and afflicted. Filled with anxiety, they saw not any means of escape. Their mother, the helpless Jarita, knowing that they were too young to escape, was filled with sorrow and wept aloud. And she said, "Oh, the terrible, illuminating the whole universe and burning the forest down, approacheth towards us, increasing my woe. These infants with immature understanding, without feathers and feet, and the sole refuge of our deceased ancestors, afflict me. Oh, this fire approacheth, spreading fear all around, and licking with its tongue the tallest trees. But my unfledged children are incapable of effecting their escape. I myself am not capable of escaping, taking all these with me. Nor am I capable of abandoning them, for my heart is distressed on their account. Whom amongst my sons, shall I leave behind, and whom shall I carry with me? What (act) should I do now that is consistent with duty? What also do you, my infant sons, think? I do not, even by reflection, see any way of escape for you. I shall even cover you with my wings and die with you. Your cruel father left me some time before, saying, 'Upon this Jaritari, because he is the eldest of my sons, will my race depend. My second Sarisrikka will beget progeny for the expansion of my ancestors' race. My third, Stamvamitra, will be devoted to asceticism, and my youngest, Drona, will become the foremost of those acquainted with the Vedas.' But how hath this terrible calamity overtaken us! Whom shall I take with me? As I am deprived of judgment what should I do that is consistent with duty? I do not see, by the exercise of my own judgment, the escape of my children from the fire!"' "Vaisampayana said, 'Unto their mother indulging in these lamentations, the infant ones said, "O mother, relinquishing thy affection for us, go thou to a place where there is no fire. If we are killed here, thou mayest have other children born to thee. If thou, O mother be killed, we can have no more children in our race. Reflecting upon both these calamities, the time hath come for thee, O mother, to do that which is beneficial to our race. Do not be influenced by affection for thy offspring, which promises to destroy both us and thee. If thou savest thyself, our father, who is even desirous of winning regions of felicity, may have his wishes gratified." "'Hearing what the infants said, Jarita replied, "There is a hole here in the ground near to this tree, belonging to a mouse. Enter this hole without loss of time. You shall have then no fear of fire. After ye have entered it, I shall, ye children, cover its mouth with dust. This is the only means of escape that I see from the blazing fire. Then when the fire will be put out, I shall return hither to remove the dust. Follow my advice if you are to escape from the conflagration." "'The infant birds replied, "Without feathers we are but so many balls of flesh. If we enter the hole, certain it is that the carnivorous mouse will destroy us all. Beholding this danger before us, we cannot enter this hole. Alas, we do not see any means by which we may escape from the fire or from the mouse. We do not see how our father's act of procreation may be prevented from becoming futile, and how also our mother may be saved. If we enter the hole, the mouse will destroy us; we remain where we are and the sky-ranging fire will destroy us. Reflecting upon both the calamities, a death by fire is preferable to a death by being eaten up. If we are devoured by the mouse within the hole, that death is certainly ignoble, whereas the destruction of the body in fire is approved by the wise."'" SECTION CCXXXIII (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing those words of her sons Jarita continued, "The little mouse that had come out of this hole was seized by a hawk with his claws and carried away hence. Therefore, ye may fearlessly enter this hole now." The young ones replied, "We are not by any means certain of that mouse having been taken away by the hawk. There may be other mice living here. From them we have every fear. Whereas it is doubtful whether fire will at all approach us here. Already we see an adverse wind blowing the flames away. If we enter the hole, death is certain at the hands of the dwellers in the hole. But if we remain where we are, death is uncertain. O mother, a position in which death is uncertain is better than that in which it is certain. It is thy duty, therefore, to escape thyself, for, if thou livest thou mayest obtain other children as good." "'Their mother then said, "Ye children, I myself saw the mighty hawk, that best of birds, swoop down and fly away with the mouse from the hole. And while he was flying away swiftly, I followed him behind and pronounced blessing on him for his having taken away the mouse from the hole. I said unto him, 'O king of hawks, because thou art flying away with our enemy, the mouse, in thy claws, mayest thou, without a foe, live in heaven with a golden body.' Afterwards when that hawk devoured the mouse, I came away, obtaining his leave. Therefore, ye children, enter this hole trustfully. Ye have nothing to fear. The mouse that was its inmate was seized and taken away by the hawk in my sight." The young ones again said, "O mother, we do not by any means know that the mouse hath been carried away by the hawk. We cannot enter this hole in the ground without being certain of the fact." Their mother said, "I know to a certainty that the mouse hath been carried away by the hawk. Therefore, ye children, ye have nothing to fear; do what I say." The young ones again said, "We do not, O mother, say that thou art dispelling our fears with a false story. For whatever is done by a person when his reason hath been disturbed can scarcely be said to be that person's deliberate act. Thou hast not been benefited by us, nor dost thou know who we are. Why dost thou, therefore, strive to protect us at so much cost to thyself? Who are we to thee? Thou art young and handsome, and capable of seeking out thy husband. Go unto thy husband. Thou shalt obtain good children again. Let us by entering the fire attain to regions of felicity. If, however, the fire consume us not, thou mayest come back and obtain us again."' "Vaisampayana said, 'The parent bird then, thus addressed by her sons, left them in Khandava and hastily went to the spot where there was no fire and there was safety. Then Agni in haste and with fierce flames approached the spot where the sons of Mandapala were. The young birds saw the blazing fire come towards them. Then Jaritari, the eldest of the four, in the hearing of Agni, began to speak.'" SECTION CCXXXIV (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "'Jaritari said, "The person that is wise remaineth wakeful in view of death. Accordingly, when the hour of death approacheth, he feeleth no pangs. But the person of perplexed soul, who remaineth not awake, when the hour of death comes, feeleth the pangs of death and never attaineth salvation." "'The second brother, Sarisrikka, said, "Thou art patient and intelligent. The time is come when our lives are threatened. Without doubt, one only amongst many becometh wise and brave." "'The third brother, Stamvamitra, said, "The eldest brother is called the protector. It is the eldest brother that rescueth (the younger ones) from danger. If the eldest himself faileth to rescue them, what can the younger ones do?" "'The fourth and the youngest brother, Drona, said, "The cruel god of fire, with seven tongues and seven mouths quickly cometh towards our habitation, blazing forth in splendour and licking up everything in his path."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having addressed one another thus, the sons of Mandapala then each devotedly addressed an eulogistic hymn to Agni. Listen now, O monarch, to those hymns as I recite them. "'Jaritari said, "Thou art, O fire, the soul of air! Thou art the body of the Earth's vegetation! O Sukra, water is thy parent as thou art the parent of water! O thou of great energy, thy flames, like the rays of the sun, extend themselves above, below, behind, and on each side." "'Sarisrikka said, "O smoke-bannered god, our mother is not to be seen, and we know not our father! Our feathers have not grown as yet. We have none to protect us save thee. Therefore, O Agni, infants that we are protect us! O Agni, as we are distressed, protect us with that auspicious form thou hast and with those seven flames of thine! We seek protection at thy hands. Thou alone, O Agni, art the giver of heat (in the universe). O lord, there is none else (save thee) that giveth heat to the rays of the sun. O, protect us who are young and who are Rishis. O Havyavaha (carrier of sacrificial butter), be pleased to go hence by some other route." "'Stamvamitra said, "Thou alone, O Agni, art everything! This whole universe is established in thee! Thou sustainest every creature, and thou supportest the universe! Thou art the carrier of the sacrificial butter, and thou art the excellent sacrificial butter itself! The wise know thee to be one (as cause) and many (as effects)! Having created the three worlds, thou, O Havyavaha, again destroyest them when the time cometh, swelling thyself forth! Thou art the productive cause of the whole universe, and thou also art the essence in which the universe dissolveth itself!" "'Drona said, "O lord of the universe, growing in strength and remaining within their bodies, thou causest the food that living creatures eat to be digested. Everything therefore, is established in thee. O Sukra, O thou from whose mouth the Vedas have sprung, it is thou who assumests the form of the sun, and sucking up the waters of the earth and every liquid juice that the earth yields, givest them back in time in the form of rain and causest everything to grow! From thee, O Sukra, are these plants and creepers with green foliage! From thee have sprung these tanks and pools, and the great ocean also that is ever blessed! O thou of fierce rays, this our (human) body dependeth on Varuna (the water-god)! We are unable to bear thy heat. Be thou, therefore, our auspicious protector! O, destroy us not! O thou of copper-hued eyes, O thou of red neck, O thou whose path is marked by a black colour, save us by going along any remote route, as indeed, the ocean saveth the house on its banks!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Drona--that utterer of Brahma-- Agni, well-pleased at what he heard, and remembering also the promise he had made to Mandapala, replied unto him, saying, "Thou art a Rishi, O Drona! For what thou hast said is Brahma (Vedic truth). I shall do your pleasure. Fear not! Indeed, Mandapala had spoken to me of you to the effect that I should spare his sons, while consuming the forest. The words he spoke and thy speech also are entitled to great weight to me. Say what I am to do. O best of Brahmanas, I have been greatly pleased with thy hymn. Blest be thou, O Brahmana!" "'Drona said, "O Sukra, these cats trouble us every day. O Hutasana; consume them with their friends and relatives."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Agni did what the Sarngakas asked him to do, telling them of his intentions. And, O Janamejaya, growing in strength, he began then to consume the forest of Khandava.'" SECTION CCXXXV (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'O thou of Kuru's race, the Rishi Mandapala became very anxious about his children, although he had spoken of them to the god of fierce rays. Indeed, his mind was not in peace. Distressed on account of his sons, he addressed Lapita (his second wife with whom he then was), saying, "O Lapita, as my children are incapable of the power of moving, how are they? When the fire will grow in strength and the wind begin to blow violently, my children will scarcely be able to save themselves. How will their mother be able to rescue them? That innocent woman will be afflicted with great sorrow when she will find herself unable to save her offspring. Oh, how will she compose herself, uttering various lamentations on account of my children who are all incapable of taking wing or rising up into the air. Oh, how is Jaritari, my son, and how is Sarisrikka, and how is Stamvamitra, and how is Drona, and how also is their helpless mother?" "'Unto the Rishi Mandapala thus weeping in the forest, Lapita, O Bharata, thus replied, under the influence of jealousy, "Thou need not worry for thy children who, as thou hast assured me, are all Rishis endued with energy and prowess! They can have no fear from fire. Didst thou not speak to Agni in my presence, in their behalf? Has not the illustrious deity promised to save them? One of the regents of the universe as Agni is, he will never falsify his speech. Thou hast no anxiety, nor is thy heart inclined towards benefiting friends. It is only by thinking of her--my rival (Jarita) that thou art so distracted! Certain it is that the love thou bearest to me is not equal to what thou hadst for her at first. He that hath two parties dividing his attention, can easily behold one of those suffer all sorts of pangs; but he should not disregard the party that is next to his heart. Then go thou to Jarita, for whom thy heart is sorrowing! As for myself, I shall henceforth wander alone, as a fit reward for my having attached myself to a wicked person." "'Hearing these words, Mandapala replied, "I do not wander over the earth with such intentions as thou conceivest. It is only for the sake of progeny that I am here. And even those that I have are in danger. He who casteth off what he hath for the sake of what he may acquire, is a wicked person. The world disregardeth and insulteth him. (Therefore, go I must). As for thyself thou art free to do what thou choosest. This blazing fire that licketh up the trees causeth sorrow in my anxious heart and raiseth therein evil presentiments."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Meanwhile, after the fire had left the spot where the Sarngakas dwelt, Jarita, much attached to her children, hastily came thither to see how they were. She found that all of them had escaped from the fire and were perfectly well. Beholding their mother, they began to weep, though safe and sound. She too shed tears upon beholding them alive. And she embraced, one by one, all her weeping children. Just at that time, O Bharata, the Rishi Mandapala arrived there. But none of his sons expressed joy, upon beholding him. The Rishi, however, began to speak to them one after another and unto Jarita also, repeatedly. But neither his sons nor Jarita spoke anything well or ill unto him in return. "'Mandapala then said, "Who amongst these is thy first born, and who the next after him? And who is the third, and who the youngest? I am speaking unto thee woefully; why dost thou not reply to me? I left thee, it is true, but I was not happy where I was." "'Jarita then said, "What hast thou to do with the eldest of these, and what with him that is next? And what with the third and what with the youngest? Go now unto that Lapita of sweet smiles and endued with youth, unto whom thou didst go of old, beholding me deficient in everything!" Mandapala replied, "As regards females, there is nothing so destructive of their happiness whether in this or the other world as a co-wife and a clandestine lover. There is nothing like these two that inflames the fire of hostility and causes such anxiety. Even the auspicious and well-behaved Arundhati, celebrated amongst all creatures, had been jealous of the illustrious Vasishtha of great purity of mind and always devoted to the good of his wife. Arundhati insulted even the wise Muni amongst the (celestial) seven. In consequence of such insulting thoughts of hers, she has become a little star, like fire mixed with smoke, sometimes visible and sometimes invisible, like an omen portending no good (amongst a constellation of seven bright stars representing the seven Rishis). I look to thee for the sake of children. I never wronged thee, like Vasishtha who never wronged his wife. Thou hast, therefore, by thy jealousy behaved towards me like Arundhati of old towards Vasishtha. Men should never trust women even if they be wives. Women, when they have become mothers, do not much mind serving their husbands."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After this, all his children came forward to worship him. And he also began to speak kindly towards them all, giving them every assurance.'" SECTION CCXXXVI (Khandava-daha Parva continued) "Vaisampayana said, 'Mandapala then addressed his children, saying, "I had spoken unto Agni for the safety of you all. The illustrious deity had assured me that he would grant my wish. At those words of Agni, and knowing the virtuous disposition of your mother, as also the great energy that is in yourselves, I came not here earlier. Therefore, ye sons, do not harbour in your hearts any resentment towards me. Ye are all Rishis acquainted with the Vedas. Even Agni knoweth you well."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having given such assurances unto his sons, the Brahmana Mandapala took with him his wife and sons, and leaving that region, went away to some other country. "'It thus that the illustrious god of fierce rays, having grown in strength consumed the forest of Khandava with the help of Krishna and Arjuna, for the good of the world. And Agni having drunk several rivers of fat and marrow, became highly gratified, and showed himself to Arjuna. Then Purandara, surrounded by the Maruts, descended from the firmament and addressing Partha and Kesava said, "Ye have achieved a feat that a celestial even could not. Ask ye each a boon that is not obtainable by any man. I have been gratified with you."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Partha asked from Indra all his weapons. At this Sakra of great splendour, having fixed the time for giving them, said, "When the illustrious Madhava becomes pleased with thee, then, O son of Pandu, I will give thee all my weapons! O prince of Kuru's race, I shall know when the time cometh. Even for thy austere asceticism I will give thee all my weapons of fire and all my Vayavya weapons, and thou also wilt accept them all of me." Then Vasudeva asked that his friendship with Arjuna might be eternal. The chief of the celestials granted unto the intelligent Krishna the boon he desired. And having granted these boons unto Krishna and Arjuna, the lord of the Maruts, accompanied by the celestials, ascended to heaven, having also spoken to Hutasana (one whose food is sacrificial butter). Agni also, having burnt that forest with its animals and birds for five and ten days, became gratified and ceased to burn. Having eaten flesh in abundance and drunk fat and blood, he became highly gratified, and addressing Achyuta and Arjuna said, "I have been gratified by you two tigers among men. At my command, ye heroes, ye shall be competent to go wheresoever ye choose!" Thus addressed by the illustrious Agni, Arjuna and Vasudeva and the Danava Maya also--these three,--having wandered a little at last sat themselves down on the delightful banks of a river.'" END OF ADI PARVA 
40588	----	The KATHÁ SARIT SÁGARA Or Ocean of the Streams of Story Translated from the original Sanskrit By C. H. TAWNEY, M. A. Calcutta: Printed by J. W. Thomas, at the Baptist Mission Press. 1880-1884. CONTENTS Book I. PAGE Chapter I. Introduction, 1-5 Curse of Pushpadanta and Mályaván, 4-5 Chapter II. Story of Pushpadanta when living on the earth as Vararuchi, 5-10 How Kánabhúti became a Pisácha, 6-7 Story of Vararuchi's teacher Varsha, and his fellow-pupils Vyádi and Indradatta, 7-10 Chapter III. Continuation of the story of Vararuchi, 11-16 Story of the founding of the city of Pátaliputra, 11-16 Story of king Brahmadatta, 12-13 Chapter IV. Continuation of the story of Vararuchi, 16-23 Story of Upakosá and her four lovers, 17-20 Chapter V. Conclusion of the story of Vararuchi, 23-31 Story of Sivasarman, 27-28 Chapter VI. Story of Mályaván when living on the earth as Gunádhya, 32-40 Story of the Mouse-merchant, 33-34 Story of the chanter of the Sáma Veda, 34-35 Story of Sátaváhana, 36-37 Chapter VII. Continuation of the story of Gunádhya, 41-47 How Pushpadanta got his name, 43-46 Story of king Sivi, 45-46 Chapter VIII. Continuation of the story of Gunádhya, 47-49 Siva's tales, originally composed by Gunádhya in the Paisácha language, are made known in Sanskrit under the title of Vrihat Kathá, 49 Book II. Chapter IX. Story of the ancestors and parents of Udayana, king of Vatsa, 52-56 Chapter X. Continuation of the story of Udayana's parents, 56-67 Story of Srídatta and Mrigánkavatí, 56-66 Udayana succeeds to the kingdom of Vatsa, 67 Chapter XI. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 67-71 Story of king Chandamahásena, 69-71 Chapter XII. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 72-82 Story of Rúpiniká, 76-82 Chapter XIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 82-93 Story of Devasmitá, 85-92 Story of the cunning Siddhikarí, 87-88 Story of Saktimatí, 91-92 Chapter XIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 94-98 Story of the clever deformed child, 96 Story of Ruru, 97-98 Book III. Chapter XV. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 101-109 Story of the clever physician, 101-102 Story of the hypocritical ascetic, 102-104 Story of Unmádiní, 104-105 Story of the loving couple who died of separation, 105-106 Story of Punyasena, 106 Story of Sunda and Upasunda, 108 Chapter XVI. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 109-115 Story of Kuntí, 110-111 Chapter XVII. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 115-124 Story of Urvasí, 115-117 Story of Vihitasena, 117 Story of Somaprabhá, 118-122 Story of Ahalyá, 122-123 Chapter XVIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 124-145 Story of Vidúshaka, 128-144 Chapter XIX. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 145-152 Story of Devadása, 146-147 Chapter XX. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 152-164 Story of Phalabhúti, 152-163 Story of Kuvalayávalí and the witch Kálarátri, 155-158 Story of the birth of Kártikeya, 155-157 Story of Sundaraka and Kálarátri, 158-161 Book IV. Chapter XXI. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 165-173 Story of Pándu, 166 Story of Devadatta, 168-170 Story of Pingaliká, 170-171 Chapter XXII. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 173-186 Story of Jímútaváhana, 174-186 Story of Jímútaváhana's adventures in a former life, 176-181 Story of Kadrú and Vinatá, 182-183 Chapter XXIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana, 186-191 Story of Sinhaparákrama, 188 Birth of Udayana's son Naraváhanadatta, 189 Book V. Chapter XXIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 193-204 Story of Saktivega, king of the Vidyádharas, 194-204 Story of Siva and Mádhava, 197-202 Story of Harasvámin, 203-204 Chapter XXV. Continuation of the story of Saktivega, 205-219 Story of Asokadatta and Vijayadatta, 208-219 Chapter XXVI. Conclusion of the story of Saktivega, 220-233 Story of Devadatta, 229-231 Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 233 Book VI. Chapter XXVII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 235-246 Story of Kalingadatta, king of Takshasilá, 235-246 Story of the merchant's son in Takshasilá, 236-238 Story of the Apsaras Surabhidattá, 238-239 Story of king Dharmadatta and his wife Nágasrí, 239-240 Story of the seven Bráhmans who devoured a cow in time of famine, 241 Story of the two ascetics, the one a Bráhman, the other a Chandála, 241-242 Story of king Vikramasinha and the two Bráhmans, 242-246 Chapter XXVIII. Continuation of the story of Kalingadatta, 246-257 Birth of his daughter Kalingasená, 246 Story of the seven princesses, 247-249 Story of the prince who tore out his own eye, 247-248 Story of the ascetic who conquered anger, 248-249 Story of Sulochaná and Sushena, 249-252 Story of the prince and the merchant's son who saved his life, 253-255 Story of the Bráhman and the Pisácha, 255-256 Chapter XXIX. Continuation of the story of Kalingadatta, 257-267 Story of Kírtisená and her cruel mother-in-law, 260-267 Chapter XXX. Continuation of the story of Kalingadatta, 267-274 Story of Tejasvatí, 270-271 Story of the Bráhman Harisarman, 272-274 Chapter XXXI. Conclusion of the story of Kalingadatta, 276-278 Story of Ushá and Aniruddha, 276-277 Kalingasená, daughter of Kalingadatta, escapes to Vatsa, 278 Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 278-280 Chapter XXXII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 281-291 Story of the Bráhman's son Vishnudatta and his seven foolish companions, 283-285 Story of Kadalígarbhá, 286-290 Story of the king and the barber's wife, 288-289 Chapter XXXIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 291-302 Story of Srutasena, 292-295 Story of the three Bráhman brothers, 293 Story of Devasena and Unmádiní, 294 Story of the ichneumon, the owl, the cat and the mouse, 296-298 Story of king Prasenajit and the Bráhman who lost his treasure, 298-299 Chapter XXXIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 302-317 Story of king Indradatta, 303 Story of the Yaksha Virúpáksha, 306-307 Story of Satrughna and his wicked wife, 312 Story of king Súrasena and his ministers, 313-314 Story of king Harisinha, 314 Book VII. Chapter XXXV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 319-327 Story of Ratnaprabhá, 320-326 Story of Sattvasíla and the two treasures, 321-322 Story of the brave king Vikramatunga, 322-323 Chapter XXXVI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 328-334 Story of king Ratnádhipati and the white elephant Svetarasmi, 328-334 Story of Yavanasena, 331-332 Chapter XXXVII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 334-346 Story of Nischayadatta, 334-346 Story of Somasvámin, 339-341 Story of Bhavasarman, 342-343 Chapter XXXVIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 346-354 Story of king Vikramáditya and the hetæra, 347-354 Story of king Vikramáditya and the treacherous mendicant, 349-350 Chapter XXXIX. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 355-367 Story of Sringabhuja and the daughter of the Rákshasa, 355-367 Chapter XL. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 369-375 Story of Tapodatta, 370 Story of Virúpasarman, 371 Story of king Vilásasíla and the physician Tarunachandra, 372-375 Chapter XLI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 376-379 Story of king Chiráyus and his minister Nágárjuna, 376-378 Chapter XLII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 379-390 Story of king Parityágasena, his wicked wife, and his two sons, 381-389 Chapter XLIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 390-403 Story of the two brothers Pránadhara and Rájyadhara, 391-393 Story of Arthalobha and his beautiful wife, 393-396 Story of the princess Karpúriká in her birth as a swan, 397-398 Book VIII. Chapter XLIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 405-406 Story of Súryaprabha, 406-414 Chapter XLV. Continuation of the story of Súryaprabha, 414-434 Story of the Bráhman Kála, 418-419 Chapter XLVI. Continuation of the story of Súryaprabha, 434-446 Story of the generous Dánava Namuchi, 444-446 Chapter XLVII. Continuation of the story of Súryaprabha, 446-452 Chapter XLVIII. Continuation of the story of Súryaprabha, 452-459 Adventure of the witch Sarabhánaná, 458 Chapter XLIX. Continuation of the story of Súryaprabha, 459-471 Story of king Mahásena and his virtuous minister Gunasarman, 459-471 Chapter L. Conclusion of the story of Súryaprabha, 472-481 Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 481 Book IX. Chapter LI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 483-494 Story of Alankáravatí, 484-485 Story of Ráma and Sítá, 486-488 Story of the handsome king Prithvírúpa, 489-492 Chapter LII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 494-515 Story of Asokamálá, 496-498 Story of Sthúlabhuja, 497-498 Story of Anangarati and her four suitors, 498-514 Story of Anangarati in a former birth, 502-503 Chapter LIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 515-524 Story of king Lakshadatta and his dependent Labdhadatta, 515-518 Story of the Bráhman Víravara, 519-524 Story of Suprabha, 520-521 Chapter LIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 524-537 Story of the merchant Samudrasúra, 529-531 Story of king Chamarabála, 532-536 Story of Yasovarman and the two fortunes, 532-535 Chapter LV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 537-549 Story of Chiradátri, 537-538 Story of king Kanakavarsha and Madanasundarí, 538-549 Chapter LVI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son, 549-569 Story of the Bráhman Chandrasvámin, his son Mahípála, and his daughter Chandravatí, 549-569 Story of Chakra, 554-556 Story of the hermit and the faithful wife, 556-557 Story of Dharmavyádha, the righteous seller of flesh, 557 Story of the treacherous Pásupata ascetic, 558-559 Story of king Tribhuvana, 558-559 Story of Nala and Damayantí, 559-568 Book X. Chapter LVII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 1-10 Story of the porter who found a bracelet 1-2 Story of the inexhaustible pitcher 2-4 Story of the merchant's son, the hetæra and the wonderful ape Ála 4-10 Chapter LVIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 10-17 Story of king Vikramasinha, the hetæra and the young Bráhman 11-13 Story of the faithless wife who burnt herself with her husband's body 13-14 Story of the faithless wife who had her husband murdered 14 Story of Vajrasára whose wife cut off his nose and ears 14-16 Story of king Sinhabala and his faithless wife 16-17 Chapter LIX. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 17-26 Story of king Sumanas, the Nisháda maiden, and the learned parrot 18-26 The parrot's account of his own life as a parrot 19-21 The hermit's story of Somaprabha, Manorathaprabhá, and Makarandiká 21-25 Episode of Manorathaprabhá and Rasmimat 22-23 Chapter LX. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 27-43 Story of Súravarman who spared his guilty wife 27 Story of the ox abandoned in the forest, and the lion, and the two jackals 27-43 Story of the monkey that pulled out the wedge 28 Story of the jackal and the drum 30 Story of the crane and the Makara 31-32 Story of the lion and the hare 32-33 Story of the louse and the flea 34 Story of the lion, the panther, the crow and the jackal 35-36 Story of the pair of titthibhas 36-38 Story of the tortoise and the two swans 37 Story of the three fish 37-38 Story of the monkeys, the firefly and the bird 39 Story of Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi 40-41 Story of the crane, the snake, and the mungoose 41 Story of the mice that ate an iron balance 41-42 Chapter LXI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 41-63 Story of the foolish merchant who made aloes-wood into charcoal 44 Story of the man who sowed roasted seed 44 Story of the man who mixed fire and water 44 Story of the man who tried to improve his wife's nose 45 Story of the foolish herdsman 45 Story of the fool and the ornaments 45 Story of the fool and the cotton 45 Story of the foolish villagers who cut down the palm-trees 46 Story of the treasure-finder who was blinded 46 Story of the fool and the salt 46-47 Story of the fool and his milch-cow 47 Story of the foolish bald man and the fool who pelted him 47 Story of the crow, and the king of the pigeons, the tortoise and the deer 48-52 Story of the mouse and the hermit 49-51 Story of the Bráhman's wife and the sesame-seeds 50-51 Story of the greedy jackal 50 Story of the wife who falsely accused her husband of murdering a Bhilla 53-54 Story of the snake who told his secret to a woman 54-55 Story of the bald man and the hair-restorer 55 Story of a foolish servant 55 Story of the faithless wife who was present at her own Sráddha 55-56 Story of the ambitious Chandála maiden 56 Story of the miserly king 57 Story of Dhavalamukha, his trading friend, and his fighting friend 57-58 Story of the thirsty fool that did not drink 58 Story of the fool who killed his son 58 Story of the fool and his brother 58 Story of the Brahmachárin's son 59 Story of the astrologer who killed his son 59 Story of the violent man who justified his character 59-60 Story of the foolish king who made his daughter grow 60 Story of the man who recovered half a pana from his servant 60 Story of the fool who took notes of a certain spot in the sea 60-61 Story of the king who replaced the flesh 61 Story of the woman who wanted another son 61 Story of the servant who tasted the fruit 62 Story of the two brothers Yajnasoma and Kírtisoma 62-63 Story of the fool who wanted a barber 63 Story of the man who asked for nothing at all 63 Chapter LXII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 64-79 Story of the war between the crows and the owls 64-75 Story of the ass in the panther's skin 65 How the crow dissuaded the birds from choosing the owl king 65-68 Story of the elephant and the hares 66-67 Story of the bird, the hare, and the cat 67-68 Story of the Bráhman, the goat, and the rogues 68-69 Story of the old merchant and his young wife 69-70 Story of the Bráhman, the thief, and the Rákshasa 70 Story of the carpenter and his wife 71-72 Story of the mouse that was turned into a maiden 72-73 Story of the snake and the frogs 74 Story of the foolish servant 75 Story of the two brothers who divided all that they had 75 Story of the mendicant who became emaciated from discontent 75-76 Story of the fool who saw gold in the water 76 Story of the servants who kept rain off the trunks 76-77 Story of the fool and the cakes 77 Story of the servant who looked after the door 77 Story of the simpletons who ate the buffalo 77-78 Story of the fool who behaved like a Brahmany drake 78 Story of the physician who tried to cure a hunchback 78-79 Chapter LXIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 79-90 Story of Yasodhara and Lakshmídhara and the two wives of the water-genius 79-83 Story of the water-genius in his previous birth 82 Story of the Bráhman who became a Yaksha 83 Story of the monkey and the porpoise 84-87 Story of the sick lion, the jackal, and the ass 85-87 Story of the fool who gave a verbal reward to the musician 87 Story of the teacher and his two jealous pupils 88 Story of the snake with two heads 88-89 Story of the fool who was nearly choked with rice 89 Story of the boys that milked the donkey 89-90 Story of the foolish boy that went to the village for nothing 90 Chapter LXIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 90-100 Story of the Bráhman and the mungoose 90-91 Story of the fool that was his own doctor 91 Story of the fool who mistook hermits for monkeys 91-92 Story of the fool who found a purse 92 Story of the fool who looked for the moon 92 Story of the woman who escaped from the monkey and the cowherd 92-93 Story of the two thieves Ghata and Karpara 93-96 Story of Devadatta's wife 96 Story of the wife of the Bráhman Rudrasoma 96-97 Story of the wife of Susin 97-98 Story of the snake-god and his wife 98-99 Chapter LXV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 101-115 Story of the ungrateful wife 101-103 Story of the grateful animals and the ungrateful woman 103-108 The lion's story 104-105 The golden-crested bird's story 105-106 The snake's story 106 The woman's story 106 Story of the Buddhist monk who was bitten by a dog 108-109 Story of the man who submitted to be burnt alive sooner than share his food with a guest 109-110 Story of the foolish teacher, the foolish pupils, and the cat 110-111 Story of the fools and the bull of Siva 111-112 Story of the fool who asked his way to the village 112 Story of Hiranyáksha and Mrigánkalekhá 113-115 Chapter LXVI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 115-124 Story of the mendicant who travelled from Kasmíra to Pátaliputra 115-118 Story of the wife of king Sinháksha, and the wives of his principal courtiers 116-118 Story of the woman who had eleven husbands 119 Story of the man who, thanks to Durgá, had always one ox 119-120 Story of the man who managed to acquire wealth by speaking to the king 120-121 Story of Ratnarekhá and Lakshmísena 121-124 Marriage of Naraváhanadatta and Saktiyasas 124 Book XI. Chapter LXVII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 125-131 Story of the race between the elephant and the horses 125-126 Story of the merchant and his wife Velá 127-131 Marriage of Naraváhanadatta and Jayendrasená 131 Book XII. Chapter LXVIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 133-137 Marriage of Naraváhanadatta and Lalitalochaná 134 Story of the jackal that was turned into an elephant 134 Story of Vámadatta and his wicked wife 134-137 Chapter LXIX. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 137-138 Story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 138-146 Story of king Bhadrabáhu and his clever minister 139-141 Story of Pushkaráksha and Vinayavatí 141-146 Story of the birth of Vinayavatí 141-142 The adventures of Pushkaráksha and Vinayavatí in a former life 143-145 Story of Lávanyamanjarí 145 Chapter LXX. Continuation of the Story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 146-154 Story of Srutadhi 148 Chapter LXXI. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 154-169 Story of Kamalákara and Hansávalí 157-167 Chapter LXXII. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 170-191 Story of king Vinítamati who became a holy man 171-191 Story of the holy boar 176-178 Story of Devabhúti 180-181 Story of the generous Induprabha 181-182 Story of the parrot who was taught virtue by the king of the parrots 182-183 Story of the patient hermit Subhanaya 183-184 Story of the persevering young Bráhman 184 Story of Malayamálin 184-186 Story of the robber who won over Yama's secretary 186-189 Chapter LXXIII. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 191-214 Story of Srídarsana 192-214 Story of Saudáminí 193-194 Story of Bhúnandana 196-201 Chapter LXXIV. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 214-231 Story of Bhímabhata 215-230 Story of Akshakshapanaka 222-223 Chapter LXXV. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 231-232 Story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 232-241 Story of the prince who was helped to a wife by the son of his father's minister 234-241 Chapter LXXVI. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 242-244 Story of the three young Bráhmans who restored a dead lady to life 242-244 Chapter LXXVII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 245-250 Story of the king and the two wise birds 245-250 The maina's story 246-247 The parrot's story 247-250 Chapter LXXVIII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 251-257 Story of Víravara 251-256 Chapter LXXIX. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 257-260 Story of Somaprabhá and her three sisters 258-260 Chapter LXXX. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 261-264 Story of the lady who caused her brother and husband to change heads 261-264 Chapter LXXXI. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 265-271 Story of the king who married his dependent to the Nereid 265-271 Chapter LXXXII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 271-274 Story of the three fastidious men 271-273 Chapter LXXXIII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 275-277 Story of Anangarati and her four suitors 275-277 Chapter LXXXIV. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 281-283 Story of Madanasená and her rash promise 278-280 Chapter LXXXV. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 281-283 Story of king Dharmadhvaja and his three very sensitive wives 281-283 Chapter LXXXVI. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 284-293 Story of king Yasahketu, his Vidyádharí wife and his faithful minister 284-292 Chapter LXXXVII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 293-297 Story of Harisvámin who first lost his wife and then his life 293-296 Chapter LXXXVIII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 297-300 Story of the merchant's daughter who fell in love with a thief 297-300 Chapter LXXXIX. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 301-307 Story of the magic globule 301-306 Chapter XC. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 307-318 Story of Jímútaváhana 307-317 Chapter XCI. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 318-322 Story of Unmádiní 318-321 Chapter XCII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 322-327 Story of the Bráhman's son who failed to acquire the magic power 323-327 Chapter XCIII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 328-334 Story of the thief's son 328-334 Chapter XCIV. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 334-342 Story of the Bráhman boy who offered himself up to save the life of the king 335-341 Chapter XCV. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 342-347 Story of Anangamanjarí, her husband Manivarman, and the Bráhman Kamalákara 342-347 Chapter XCVI. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 348-350 Story of the four Bráhman brothers who resuscitated the tiger 348-350 Chapter XCVII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 351-351 Story of the Hermit who first wept and then danced 351-353 Chapter XCVIII. Continuation of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 354-358 Story of the father that married the daughter and the son that married the mother 354-357 Chapter XCIX. Conclusion of the story of king Trivikramasena and the Vampire 358-360 Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 360-362 Chapter C. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 362-365 Chapter CI. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 366-386 Story of Sundarasena and Mandáravatí 368-385 Chapter CII. Continuation of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 387-396 Chapter CIII. Conclusion of the story of Mrigánkadatta and Sasánkavatí 396-409 Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 409 Book XIII. Chapter CIV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 411-423 Story of the two Bráhman friends 412-423 Book XIV. Chapter CV. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 425-430 Story of Sávitrí and Angiras 426-427 Chapter CVI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 430-441 Story of the child that died of a broken heart 435-436 Chapter CVII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 441-448 Story of Ráma 442 Chapter CVIII. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 448-460 Story of Nágasvámin and the witches 449-452 Story of Marubhúti and the mermaids and the gold-producing grains 452-454 Book XV. Chapter CIX. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 461-469 History of the cave of Trisírsha 464-465 Chapter CX. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 469-478 Naraváhanadatta crowned emperor of the Vidyádharas 473-474 Book XVI. Chapter CXI. Continuation of the story of Udayana and his son 479-483 Story of the devoted couple Súrasena and Sushená 480-481 Death of Chandamahásena and Angáravatí 482 Death of Udayana king of Vatsa 483 Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 484-485 Chapter CXII. Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 485-497 Story of king Chandamahásena and the Asura's daughter 486-488 Story of prince Avantivardhana and the daughter of the Mátanga 488-496 Story of the young Chandála who married the daughter of king Prasenajit 490-491 Story of the young fisherman who married a princess 491-493 Story of the Merchant's daughter who fell in love with a thief 493-495 Chapter CXIII. Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 497-503 Story of Tárávaloka 498-503 Book XVII. Chapter CXIV. Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 505-513 Story of king Brahmadatta and the swans 506-513 How Párvatí condemned her five attendants to be reborn on earth 508-510 Story of the metamorphoses of Pingesvara and Guhesvara 510-513 Chapter CXV. Continuation of The story of Brahmadatta and the swans 513-514 Story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 514-522 Chapter CXVI. Continuation of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 522-528 Chapter CXVII. Continuation of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 528-538 Chapter CXVIII. Continuation of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 538-549 Chapter CXIX. Conclusion of the story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí 549-561 Conclusion of the story of Brahmadatta and the swans 561 Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 561 Book XVIII. Chapter CXX. Continuation of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 563 Story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 563-570 Chapter CXXI. Continuation of the story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 571-586 Story of Madanamanjarí 571-583 Story of the gambler Dágineya 572-574 Story of Thinthákarála the bold gambler 574-582 Story of the gambler who cheated Yama 581 Story of Ghanta and Nighanta and the two maidens 583 Story of the golden deer 584 Chapter CXXII. Continuation of the story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 586-593 Story of Malayavatí the man-hating maiden 587-593 Chapter CXXIII. Continuation of the Story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 593 Story of Kalingasená's marriage 593-611 How Devasena obtained the magic ointment 594 Story of the grateful monkey 596-597 Story of the two princesses 598-599 Story of Dhanadatta 600-601 Story of Kesata and Kandarpa 601-610 Story of Kusumáyudha and Kamalalochaná 606-607 Chapter CXXIV. Conclusion of the story of Kalingasená's marriage 611-614 Story of Chandrasvámin 611-612 Conclusion of the story of Vikramáditya king of Ujjayiní 614-624 Story of Devasvámin 616-617 Story of Agnisarman 617-618 Story of Múladeva 618-624 Conclusion of the story of Naraváhanadatta son of Udayana 624 Conclusion of the Kathá Sarit Ságara 625 TRANSLATION OF THE KATHÁ SARIT SÁGARA OR OCEAN OF THE STREAMS OF STORY. BOOK I. CALLED KATHÁPÍTHA CHAPTER I. May the dark neck of Siva, which the god of love has, so to speak, surrounded with nooses in the form of the alluring looks of Párvatí reclining on his bosom, assign to you prosperity. May that victor of obstacles, [1] who after sweeping away the stars with his trunk in the delirious joy of the evening dance, seems to create others with the spray issuing from his hissing [2] mouth, protect you. After worshipping the goddess of Speech, the lamp that illuminates countless objects, [3] I compose this collection which contains the pith of the Vríhat-Kathá. The first book in my collection is called Kathápítha, then comes Kathámukha, then the third book named Lávánaka, then follows Naraváhanadattajanana, and then the book called Chaturdáriká, and then Madanamanchuká, then the seventh book named Ratnaprabhá, and then the eighth book named Súryaprabhá, then Alankáravatí, then Saktiyasas, and then the eleventh book called Velá, then comes Sasánkavatí, and then Madirávatí, then comes the book called Pancha followed by Mahábhisheka, and then Suratamanjarí, then Padmávatí, and then will follow the eighteenth book Vishamasíla. This book is precisely on the model of that from which it is taken, there is not even the slightest deviation, only such language is selected as tends to abridge the prolixity of the work; the observance of propriety and natural connexion, and the joining together of the portions of the poem so as not to interfere with the spirit of the stories, are as far as possible kept in view: I have not made this attempt through desire of a reputation for ingenuity, but in order to facilitate the recollection of a multitude of various tales. There is a mountain celebrated under the name of Himavat, haunted by Kinnaras, Gandharvas, and Vidyádharas, a very monarch of mighty hills, whose glory has attained such an eminence among mountains that Bhavání the mother of the three worlds deigned to become his daughter; the northernmost summit thereof is a great peak named Kailása, which towers many thousand yojanas in the air, [4] and as it were, laughs forth with its snowy gleams this boast--"Mount Mandara [5] did not become white as mortar even when the ocean was churned with it, but I have become such without an effort." There dwells Mahesvara the beloved of Párvatí, the chief of things animate and inanimate, attended upon by Ganas, Vidyádharas and Siddhas. In the upstanding yellow tufts of his matted hair, the new moon enjoys the delight of touching the eastern mountain yellow in the evening twilight. When he drove his trident into the heart of Andhaka, the king of the Asuras, though he was only one, the dart which that monarch had infixed in the heart of the three worlds was, strange to say, extracted. The image of his toe-nails being reflected in the crest-jewels of the gods and Asuras made them seem as if they had been presented with half moons by his favour. [6] Once on a time that lord, the husband of Párvatí, was gratified with praises by his wife, having gained confidence as she sat in secret with him; the moon-crested one attentive to her praise and delighted, placed her on his lap, and said, "What can I do to please thee?" Then the daughter of the mountain spake--"My lord, if thou art satisfied with me, then tell me some delightful story that is quite new." And Siva said to her, "What can there be in the world, my beloved, present, past, or future that thou dost not know?" Then that goddess, beloved of Siva, importuned him eagerly because she was proud in soul on account of his affection. Then Siva wishing to flatter her, began by telling her a very short story, referring to her own divine power. "Once on a time [7] Brahmá and Náráyana roaming through the world in order to behold me, came to the foot of Himavat. Then they beheld there in front of them a great flame-linga; [8] in order to discover the end of it, one of them went up, and the other down; and when they could not find the end of it, they proceeded to propitiate me by means of austerities: and I appeared to them and bade them ask for some boon: hearing that Brahmá asked me to become his son; on that account he has ceased to be worthy of worship, disgraced by his overweening presumption. "Then that god Náráyana craved a boon of me, saying--Oh revered one, may I become devoted to thy service! Then he became incarnate, and was born as mine in thy form; for thou art the same as Náráyana, the power of me all-powerful. "Moreover thou wast my wife in a former birth." When Siva had thus spoken, Párvatí asked, "How can I have been thy wife in a former birth?" Then Siva answered her. "Long ago to the Prajápati Daksha were born many daughters, and amongst them thou, O goddess! He gave thee in marriage to me, and the others to Dharma and the rest of the gods. Once on a time he invited all his sons-in-law to a sacrifice. But I alone was not included in the invitation; thereupon thou didst ask him to tell thee why thy husband was not invited. Then he uttered a speech which pierced thy ears like a poisoned needle; 'Thy husband wears a necklace of skulls; how can he be invited to a sacrifice?' "And then thou, my beloved, didst in anger abandon thy body, exclaiming,--'This father of mine is a villain; what profit have I then in this carcase sprung from him?' "And thereupon in wrath I destroyed that sacrifice of Daksha. Then thou wast born as the daughter of the mount of snow, as the moon's digit springs from the sea. Then recall how I came to the Himálaya in order to perform austerities; and thy father ordered thee to do me service as his guest: and there the god of love who had been sent by the gods in order that they might obtain from me a son to oppose Táraka, was consumed, [9] when endeavouring to pierce me, having obtained a favourable opportunity. Then I was purchased by thee, [10] the enduring one, with severe austerities, and I accepted this proposal of thine, my beloved, in order that I might add this merit to my stock. [11] Thus it is clear that thou wast my wife in a former birth. What else shall I tell thee?" Thus Siva spake, and when he had ceased, the goddess transported with wrath, exclaimed,--"Thou art a deceiver; thou wilt not tell me a pleasing tale even though I ask thee: Do I not know that thou worshippest Sandhyá, and bearest Gangá on thy head?" Hearing that, Siva proceeded to conciliate her and promised to tell her a wonderful tale: then she dismissed her anger. She herself gave the order that no one was to enter where they were; Nandin [12] thereupon kept the door, and Siva began to speak. "The gods are supremely blessed, men are ever miserable, the actions of demigods are exceedingly charming, therefore I now proceed to relate to thee the history of the Vidyádharas." While Siva was thus speaking to his consort, there arrived a favourite dependant of Siva's, Pushpadanta, best of Ganas, [13] and his entrance was forbidden by Nandin who was guarding the door. Curious to know why even he had been forbidden to enter at that time without any apparent reason, Pushpadanta immediately entered, making use of his magic power attained by devotion to prevent his being seen, and when he had thus entered, he heard all the extraordinary and wonderful adventures of the seven Vidyádharas being narrated by the trident-bearing god, and having heard them he in turn went and narrated them to his wife Jayá; for who can hide wealth or a secret from women? Jayá the doorkeeper being filled with wonder went and recited it in the presence of Párvatí. How can women be expected to restrain their speech? And then the daughter of the mountain flew into a passion, and said to her husband, "Thou didst not tell me any extraordinary tale, for Jayá knows it also." Then the lord of Umá, perceiving the truth by profound meditation, thus spake: "Pushpadanta employing the magic power of devotion entered in where we were, and thus managed to hear it. He narrated it to Jayá; no one else knows it, my beloved." Having heard this, the goddess exceedingly enraged caused Pushpadanta to be summoned, and cursed him, as he stood trembling before her, saying, "Become a mortal thou disobedient servant." [14] She cursed also the Gana Mályaván who presumed to intercede on his behalf. Then the two fell at her feet together with Jayá and entreated her to say when the curse would end, and the wife of Siva slowly uttered this speech--"A Yaksha named Supratíka who has been made a Pisácha by the curse of Kuvera is residing in the Vindhya forest under the name of Kánabhúti. When thou shalt see him and, calling to mind thy origin, tell him this tale, then, Pushpadanta, thou shalt be released from this curse. And when Mályaván shall hear this tale from Kánabhúti, then Kánabhúti shall be released, and thou, Mályaván, when thou hast published it abroad, shalt be free also." Having thus spoken the daughter of the mountain ceased, and immediately those Ganas disappeared instantaneously like flashes of lightning. Then it came to pass in the course of time that Gaurí full of pity asked Siva, "My lord, where on the earth have those excellent Pramathas [15] whom I cursed, been born?" And the moon-diademed god answered: "My beloved, Pushpadanta has been born under the name of Vararuchi in that great city which is called Kausámbí. [16] Moreover Mályaván also has been born in the splendid city called Supratishthita under the name of Gunádhya. This, O goddess, is what has befallen them." Having given her this information with grief caused by recalling to mind the degradation of the servants that had always been obedient to him, that lord continued to dwell with his beloved in pleasure-arbours on the slopes of mount Kailása, which were made of the branches of the Kalpa tree. [17] CHAPTER II. Then Pushpadanta wandering on the earth in the form of a man, was known by the name of Vararuchi and Kátyáyana. Having attained perfection in the sciences, and having served Nanda as minister, being wearied out he went once on a time to visit the shrine of Durgá. [18] And that goddess, being pleased with his austerities, ordered him in a dream to repair to the wilds of the Vindhya to behold Kánabhúti. And as he wandered about there in a waterless and savage wood, [19] full of tigers and apes, he beheld a lofty Nyagrodha tree. [20] And near it he saw, surrounded by hundreds of Pisáchas, that Pisácha Kánabhúti, in stature like a Sála tree. When Kánabhúti had seen him and respectfully clasped his feet, Kátyáyana sitting down immediately spake to him. "Thou art an observer of the good custom; how hast thou come into this state?" Having heard this Kánabhúti said to Kátyáyana, who had shewn affection towards him, "I know not of myself, but listen to what I heard from Siva at Ujjayiní in the place where corpses are burnt; I proceed to tell it thee." The adorable god was asked by Durgá--"Whence, my lord, comes thy delight in skulls and burning-places?" He thereupon gave this answer. "Long ago when all things had been destroyed at the end of a Kalpa, the universe became water: I then cleft my thigh and let fall a drop of blood; that drop falling into the water turned into an egg, from that sprang the Supreme Soul, [21] the Disposer; from him proceeded Nature, [22] created by me for the purpose of further creation, and they created the other lords of created beings, [23] and those in turn the created beings, for which reason, my beloved, the Supreme Soul is called in the world the grandfather. Having thus created the world, animate and inanimate, that Spirit became arrogant: [24] thereupon I cut off his head: then through regret for what I had done, I undertook a difficult vow. So thus it comes to pass that I carry skulls in my hand, and love the places where corpses are burned. Moreover this world resembling a skull, rests in my hand; for the two skull-shaped halves of the egg before mentioned are called heaven and earth." When Siva had thus spoken, I, being full of curiosity, determined to listen; and Párvatí again said to her husband, "After how long a time will that Pushpadanta return to us?" Hearing that, Mahesvara spoke to the goddess, pointing me out to her; "That Pisácha whom thou beholdest there, was once a Yaksha, a servant of Kuvera, the god of wealth, and he had for a friend a Rákshasa named Sthúlasiras; and the lord of wealth perceiving that he associated with that evil one, banished him to the wilds of the Vindhya mountains. But his brother Dírghajangha fell at the feet of the god, and humbly asked when the curse would end. Then the god of wealth said--"After thy brother has heard the great tale from Pushpadanta, who has been born into this world in consequence of a curse, and after he has in turn told it to Mályaván, who owing to a curse has become a human being, he together with those two Ganas shall be released from the effects of the curse." Such were the terms on which the god of wealth then ordained that Mályaván should obtain remission from his curse here below, and thou didst fix the same in the case of Pushpadanta; recall it to mind, my beloved." When I heard that speech of Siva, I came here overjoyed, knowing that the calamity of my curse would be terminated by the arrival of Pushpadanta. When Kánabhúti ceased after telling this story, that moment Vararuchi remembered his origin, and exclaimed like one aroused from sleep, "I am that very Pushpadanta, hear that tale from me." Thereupon Kátyáyana related to him the seven great tales in seven hundred thousand verses, and then Kánabhúti said to him--"My lord, thou art an incarnation of Siva, who else knows this story? Through thy favour that curse has almost left my body. Therefore tell me thy own history from thy birth, thou mighty one, sanctify me yet further, if the narrative may be revealed to such a one as I am." Then Vararuchi, to gratify Kánabhúti, who remained prostrate before him, told all his history from his birth at full length, in the following words: Story of Vararuchi, his teacher Varsha, and his fellow-pupils Vyádi and Indradatta. In the city of Kausámbí there lived a Bráhman called Somadatta, who also had the title of Agnisikha, and his wife was called Vasudattá. She was the daughter of a hermit, and was born into the world in this position in consequence of a curse; and I was born by her to this excellent Bráhman, also in consequence of a curse. Now while I was still quite a child my father died, but my mother continued to support me, as I grew up, by severe drudgery; then one day two Bráhmans came to our house to stop a night, exceedingly dusty with a long journey; and while they were staying in our house there arose the noise of a tabor, thereupon my mother said to me, sobbing, as she called to mind her husband--"there, my son, is your father's friend Bhavananda, giving a dramatic entertainment." I answered, "I will go and see it, and will exhibit the whole of it to you, with a recitation of all the speeches." On hearing that speech of mine, those Bráhmans were astonished, but my mother said to them--"Come, my children, there is no doubt about the truth of what he says; this boy will remember by heart everything that he has heard once." [25] Then they, in order to test me, recited to me a Prátisákhya [26]; immediately I repeated the whole in their presence, then I went with the two Bráhmans and saw that play, and when I came home, I went through the whole of it in front of my mother: then one of the Bráhmans, named Vyádi, having ascertained that I was able to recollect a thing on hearing it once, told with submissive reverence this tale to my mother. Mother, in the city of Vetasa there were two Bráhman brothers, Deva-Swámin and Karambaka, who loved one another very dearly; this Indradatta here is the son of one of them, and I am the son of the other, and my name is Vyádi. It came to pass that my father died. Owing to grief for his loss, the father of Indradatta went on the long journey, [27] and then the hearts of our two mothers broke with grief; thereupon being orphans though we had wealth, [28] and, desiring to acquire learning, we went to the southern region to supplicate the lord Kártikeya. And while we were engaged in austerities there, the god gave us the following revelation in a dream. "There is a city called Pátaliputra, the capital of king Nanda, and in it there is a Bráhman, named Varsha, from him ye shall learn all knowledge, therefore go there." Then we went to that city, and when we made enquiries there, people said to us: "There is a blockhead of a Bráhman in this town, of the name of Varsha." Immediately we went on with minds in a state of suspense, and saw the house of Varsha in a miserable condition, made a very ant-hill by mice, dilapidated by the cracking of the walls, untidy, [29] deprived of eaves, looking like the very birth-place of misery. Then, seeing Varsha plunged in meditation within the house, we approached his wife, who shewed us all proper hospitality; her body was emaciated and begrimed, her dress tattered and dirty; she looked like the incarnation of poverty, attracted thither by admiration for the Bráhman's virtues. Bending humbly before her, we then told her our circumstances, and the report of her husband's imbecility, which we heard in the city. She exclaimed--"My children, I am not ashamed to tell you the truth; listen! I will relate the whole story," and then she, chaste lady, proceeded to tell us the tale which follows: There lived in this city an excellent Bráhman, named Sankara Svámin, and he had two sons, my husband Varsha, and Upavarsha; my husband was stupid and poor, and his younger brother was just the opposite: and Upavarsha appointed his own wife to manage his elder brother's house. [30] Then in the course of time, the rainy season came on, and at this time the women are in the habit of making a cake of flour mixed with molasses, of an unbecoming and disgusting shape, [31] and giving it to any Bráhman who is thought to be a blockhead, and if they act thus, this cake is said to remove their discomfort caused by bathing in the cold season, and their exhaustion [32] caused by bathing in the hot weather; but when it is given, Bráhmans refuse to receive it, on the ground that the custom is a disgusting one. This cake was presented by my sister-in-law to my husband, together with a sacrificial fee; he received it, and brought it home with him, and got a severe scolding from me; then he began to be inwardly consumed with grief at his own stupidity, and went to worship the sole of the foot of the god Kártikeya: the god, pleased with his austerities, bestowed on him the knowledge of all the sciences; and gave him this order--"When thou findest a Bráhman who can recollect what he has heard only once, then thou mayest reveal these"--thereupon my husband returned home delighted, and when he had reached home, told the whole story to me. From that time forth, he has remained continually muttering prayers and meditating: so find you some one who can remember anything after hearing it once, and bring him here: if you do that, you will both of you undoubtedly obtain all that you desire. Having heard this from the wife of Varsha, and having immediately given her a hundred gold pieces to relieve her poverty, we went out of that city; then we wandered through the earth, and could not find anywhere a person who could remember what he had only heard once: at last we arrived tired out at your house to-day, and have found here this boy, your son, who can recollect anything after once hearing it: therefore give him us and let us go forth to acquire the commodity knowledge. Having heard this speech of Vyádi, my mother said with respect, "All this tallies completely; I repose confidence in your tale: for long ago at the birth of this my only son, a distinct spiritual [33] voice was heard from heaven. "A boy has been born who shall be able to remember what he has heard once; he shall acquire knowledge from Varsha, and shall make the science of grammar famous in the world, and he shall be called Vararuchi by name, because whatever is excellent, [34] shall please him." Having uttered this, the voice ceased. Consequently, ever since this boy has grown big, I have been thinking, day and night, where that teacher Varsha can be, and to-day I have been exceedingly gratified at hearing it from your mouth. Therefore take him with you: what harm can there be in it, he is your brother?" When they heard this speech of my mother's, those two, Vyádi and Indradatta, overflowing with joy, thought that night but a moment in length. Then Vyádi quickly gave his own wealth to my mother to provide a feast, and desiring that I should be qualified to read the Vedas, invested me with the Bráhmanical thread. Then Vyádi and Indradatta took me, who managed by my own fortitude to control the excessive grief I felt at parting, while my mother in taking leave of me could with difficulty suppress her tears, and considering that the favour of Kártikeya towards them had now put forth blossom, set out rapidly from that city; then in course of time we arrived at the house of the teacher Varsha: he too considered that I was the favour of Kártikeya arrived in bodily form. The next day he placed us in front of him, and sitting down in a consecrated spot, he began to recite the syllable Om with heavenly voice. Immediately the Vedas with the six supplementary sciences rushed into his mind, and then he began to teach them to us; then I retained what the teacher told us after hearing it once, Vyádi after hearing it twice, and Indradatta after hearing it three times: then the Bráhmans of the city hearing of a sudden that divine sound, came at once from all quarters with wonder stirring in their breasts to see what this new thing might be; and with their reverend mouths loud in his praises honoured Varsha with low bows. Then beholding that wonderful miracle, not only Upavarsha, but all the citizens of Pátaliputra [35] kept high festival. Moreover the king Nanda of exalted fortune, seeing the power of the boon of the son of Siva, was delighted, and immediately filled the house of Varsha with wealth, shewing him every mark of respect. [36] CHAPTER III. Having thus spoken while Kánabhúti was listening with intent mind, Vararuchi went on to tell his tale in the wood. It came to pass in the course of time, that one day, when the reading of the Vedas was finished, the teacher Varsha, who had performed his daily ceremonies, was asked by us, "How comes it that such a city as this has become the home of Sarasvatí and Lakshmí, [37] tell us that, O teacher." Hearing this, he bade us listen, for that he was about to tell the history of the city. Story of the founding of the city of Pátaliputra. There is a sanctifying place of pilgrimage, named Kanakhala, at the point where the Ganges issues from the hills, [38] where the sacred stream was brought down from the table-land of mount Usínara, by Kánchanapáta the elephant of the gods, having cleft it asunder. [39] In that place lived a certain Bráhman from the Deccan, performing austerities in the company of his wife, and to him were born there three sons. In the course of time he and his wife went to heaven, and those sons of his went to a place named Rájagriha, for the sake of acquiring learning. And having studied the sciences there, the three, grieved at their unprotected condition, went to the Deccan in order to visit the shrine of the god Kártikeya. Then they reached a city named Chinchiní on the shore of the sea, and dwelt in the house of a Bráhman named Bhojika, and he gave them his three daughters in marriage, and bestowed on them all his wealth, and having no other children, went to the Ganges to perform austerities. And while they were living there in the house of their father-in-law, a terrible famine arose produced by drought, thereupon the three Bráhmans fled, abandoning their virtuous wives, (since no care for their families touches the hearts of cruel men,) then the middle one of the three sisters was found to be pregnant; and those ladies repaired to the house of Yajnadatta a friend of their father's: there they remained in a miserable condition, thinking each on her own husband, (for even in calamity women of good family do not forget the duties of virtuous wives). Now in course of time the middle one of the three sisters gave birth to a son, and they all three vied with one another in love towards him. So it happened once upon a time that, as Siva was roaming through the air, the mother of Skanda [40] who was reposing on Siva's breast, moved with compassion at seeing their love for their child, said to her husband, "My lord, observe, these three women feel great affection for this boy, and place hope in him, trusting that he may some day support them; therefore bring it about that he may be able to maintain them, even in his infancy." Having been thus entreated by his beloved, Siva, the giver of boons, thus answered her: I adopt him as my protégé, for in a previous birth he and his wife propitiated me, therefore he has been born on the earth to reap the fruit of his former austerities; and his former wife has been born again as Pátalí the daughter of the king Mahendravarman, and she shall be his wife in this birth also. Having said this, that mighty god told those three virtuous women in a dream,--"This young son of yours shall be called Putraka; and every day when he awakes from sleep, a hundred thousand gold pieces shall be found under his pillow, [41] and at last he shall become a king." Accordingly, when he woke up from sleep, those virtuous daughters of Yajnadatta found the gold and rejoiced that their vows and prayers had brought forth fruit. Then by means of that gold Putraka having in a short time accumulated great treasure, became a king, for good fortune is the result of austerities. [42] Once upon a time Yajnadatta said in private to Putraka,--"King, your father and uncles have gone away into the wide world on account of a famine, therefore give continually to Bráhmans, in order that they may hear of it and return: and now listen, I will tell you the story of Brahmadatta." Story of king Brahmadatta. [43] "There lived formerly in Benares a king named Brahmadatta. He saw a pair of swans flying in the air at night. They shone with the lustre of gleaming gold, and were begirt with hundreds of white swans, and so looked like a sudden flash of lightning, surrounded by white clouds. And his desire to behold them again kept increasing so mightily that he took no pleasure in the delights of royalty. And then having taken counsel with his ministers he caused a fair tank to be made according to a design of his own, and gave to all living creatures security from injury. In a short time he perceived that those two swans had settled in that lake, and when they had become tame he asked them the reason of their golden plumage. And then those swans addressed the king with an articulate voice. 'In a former birth, O king, we were born as crows; and when we were fighting for the remains of the daily offering [44] in a holy empty temple of Siva, we fell down and died within a sacred vessel belonging to that sanctuary, and consequently we have been born as golden swans with a remembrance of our former birth';--having heard this the king gazed on them to his heart's content, and derived great pleasure from watching them. "Therefore you will gain back your father and uncles by an unparalleled gift." When Yajnadatta had given him this advice, Putraka did as he recommended; when they heard the tidings of the distribution those Bráhmans arrived: and when they were recognized they had great wealth bestowed on them, and were reunited to their wives. Strange to say, even after they have gone through calamities, wicked men having their minds blinded by want of discernment, are unable to put off their evil nature. After a time they hankered after royal power, and being desirous of murdering Putraka they enticed him under pretext of a pilgrimage to the temple of Durgá: and having stationed assassins in the inner sanctuary of the temple, they said to him, "First go and visit the goddess alone, step inside." Thereupon he entered boldly, but when he saw those assassins preparing to slay him, he asked them why they wished to kill him. They replied, "We were hired for gold to do it by your father and uncles." Then the discreet Putraka said to the assassins, whose senses were bewildered by the goddess, "I will give you this priceless jewelled ornament of mine. Spare me, I will not reveal your secret; I will go to a distant land." The assassins said, "So be it," and taking the ornament they departed, and falsely informed the father and uncles of Putraka that he was slain. Then those Bráhmans returned and endeavoured to get possession of the throne, but they were put to death by the ministers as traitors. How can the ungrateful prosper? In the meanwhile that king Putraka, faithful to his promise, entered the impassable wilds of the Vindhya, disgusted with his relations: as he wandered about he saw two heroes engaged heart and soul in a wrestling-match, and he asked them who they were. They replied, "We are the two sons of the Asura Maya, and his wealth belongs to us, this vessel, and this stick, and these shoes; it is for these that we are fighting, and whichever of us proves the mightier is to take them." When he heard this speech of theirs, Putraka said with a smile--"That is a fine inheritance for a man." Then they said--"By putting on these shoes one gains the power of flying through the air; whatever is written with this staff turns out true; and whatever food a man wishes to have in the vessel is found there immediately." When he heard this, Putraka said--"What is the use of fighting? Make this agreement, that whoever proves the best man in running shall possess this wealth." [45] Those simpletons said--"Agreed"--and set off to run, while the prince put on the shoes and flew up into the air, taking with him the staff and the vessel; then he went a great distance in a short time and saw beneath him a beautiful city named Ákarshiká and descended into it from the sky. He reflected with himself; "hetæræ are prone to deceive, Bráhmans are like my father and uncles, and merchants are greedy of wealth; in whose house shall I dwell?" Just at that moment he reached a lonely dilapidated house, and saw a single old woman in it; so he gratified that old woman with a present, and lived unobserved in that broken down old house, waited upon respectfully by the old woman. Once upon a time the old woman in an affectionate mood said to Putraka--"I am grieved, my son, that you have not a wife meet for you. But here there is a maiden named Pátalí, the daughter of the king, and she is preserved like a jewel in the upper story of a seraglio." While he was listening to this speech of hers with open ear, the god of love found an unguarded point, and entered by that very path into his heart. He made up his mind that he must see that damsel that very day, and in the night flew up through the air to where she was, by the help of his magic shoes. He then entered by a window, which was as high above the ground as the peak of a mountain, and beheld that Pátalí, asleep in a secret place in the seraglio, continually bathed in the moonlight that seemed to cling to her limbs: as it were the might of love in fleshly form reposing after the conquest of this world. While he was thinking how he should awake her, suddenly outside a watchman began to chant: "Young men obtain the fruit of their birth, when they awake the sleeping fair one, embracing her as she sweetly scolds, with her eyes languidly opening." On hearing this encouraging prelude, he embraced that fair one with limbs trembling with excitement, and then she awoke. When she beheld that prince, there was a contest between shame and love in her eye, which was alternately fixed on his face and averted. When they had conversed together, and gone through the ceremony of the Gándharva marriage, that couple found their love continually increasing, as the night waned away. Then Putraka took leave of his sorrowing wife, and with his mind dwelling only on her went in the last watch of the night to the old woman's house. So every night the prince kept going backwards and forwards, and at last the intrigue was discovered by the guards of the seraglio, accordingly they revealed the matter to the lady's father, and he appointed a woman to watch secretly in the seraglio at night. She, finding the prince asleep, made a mark with red lac upon his garment to facilitate his recognition. In the morning she informed the king of what she had done, and he sent out spies in all directions, and Putraka was discovered by the mark and dragged out from the dilapidated house into the presence of the king. Seeing that the king was enraged, he flew up into the air with the help of the shoes, and entered the palace of Pátalí. He said to her,--"We are discovered, therefore rise up, let us escape with the help of the shoes, and so taking Pátalí in his arms he flew away from that place through the air. [46] Then descending from heaven near the bank of the Ganges, he refreshed his weary beloved with cakes provided by means of the magic vessel. When Pátalí saw the power of Putraka she made a request to him, in accordance with which he sketched out with the staff a city furnished with a force of all four arms. [47] In that city he established himself as king, and his great power having attained full development, he subdued that father-in-law of his, and became ruler of the sea-engirdled earth. This is that same divine city, produced by magic, together with its citizens; hence it bears the name of Pátaliputra, and is the home of wealth and learning. When we heard from the mouth of Varsha the above strange and extraordinarily marvellous story, our minds, O Kánabhúti, were for a long time delighted with thrilling wonder. CHAPTER IV. Having related this episode to Kánabhúti in the Vindhya forest, Vararuchi again resumed the main thread of his narrative. While thus dwelling there with Vyádi and Indradatta, I gradually attained perfection in all sciences, and emerged from the condition of childhood. Once on a time when we went out to witness the festival of Indra, we saw a maiden looking like some weapon of Cupid, not of the nature of an arrow. Then, Indradatta, on my asking him who that lady might be, replied,--"She is the daughter of Upavarsha, and her name is Upakosá," and she found out by means of her handmaids who I was, and drawing my soul after her with a glance made tender by love, she with difficulty managed to return to her own house. She had a face like a full moon, and eyes like a blue lotus, she had arms graceful like the stalk of a lotus, and a lovely full [48] bosom; she had a neck marked with three lines like a shell, [49] and magnificent coral lips; in short she was a second Lakshmí, so to speak, the store-house of the beauty of king Cupid. Then my heart was cleft by the stroke of love's arrow, and I could not sleep that night through my desire to kiss her bimba [50] lip. Having at last with difficulty gone off to sleep, I saw, at the close of night, a celestial woman in white garments; she said to me--"Upakosá was thy wife in a former birth; as she appreciates merit, she desires no one but thee, therefore, my son, thou oughtest not to feel anxious about this matter. I am Sarasvatí [51] that dwell continually in thy frame, I cannot bear to behold thy grief." When she had said this, she disappeared. Then I woke up and somewhat encouraged I went slowly and stood under a young mango tree near the house of my beloved; then her confidante came and told me of the ardent attachment of Upakosá to me, the result of sudden passion: then I with my pain doubled, said to her, "How can I obtain Upakosá, unless her natural protectors willingly bestow her upon me? For death is better than dishonour; so if by any means your friend's heart became known to her parents, perhaps the end might be prosperous. "Therefore bring this about, my good woman, save the life of me and of thy friend." When she heard this, she went and told all to her friend's mother, she immediately told it to her husband Upavarsha, he to Varsha his brother, and Varsha approved of the match. Then, my marriage having been determined upon, Vyádi by the order of my tutor went and brought my mother from Kausámbí; so Upakosá was bestowed upon me by her father with all due ceremonies, and I lived happily in Pátaliputra with my mother and my wife. Now in course of time Varsha got a great number of pupils, and among them there was one rather stupid pupil of the name of Pánini; he, being wearied out with service, was sent away by the preceptor's wife, and being disgusted at it and longing for learning, he went to the Himálaya to perform austerities: then he obtained from the god, who wears the moon as a crest, propitiated by his severe austerities, a new grammar, the source of all learning. Thereupon he came and challenged me to a disputation, and seven days passed away in the course of our disputation; on the eighth day he had been fairly conquered by me, but immediately afterwards a terrible menacing sound was uttered by Siva in the firmament; owing to that our Aindra grammar was exploded in the world, [52] and all of us, being conquered by Pánini, became accounted fools. Accordingly full of despondency I deposited in the hand of the merchant Hiranyadatta my wealth for the maintenance of my house, and after informing Upakosá of it, I went fasting to mount Himálaya to propitiate Siva with austerities. Story of Upakosá and her four lovers. Upakosá on her part anxious for my success, remained in her own house, bathing every day in the Ganges, strictly observing her vow. One day, when spring had come, she being still beautiful, though thin and slightly pale, and charming to the eyes of men, like the streak of the new moon, was seen by the king's domestic chaplain while going to bathe in the Ganges, and also by the head magistrate, and by the prince's minister; and immediately they all of them became a target for the arrows of love. It happened too somehow or other that she took a long time bathing that day, and as she was returning in the evening, the prince's minister laid violent hands on her, but she with great presence of mind said to him, "Dear Sir, I desire this as much as you, but I am of respectable family, and my husband is away from home. How can I act thus? Some one might perhaps see us, and then misfortune would befall you as well as me. Therefore you must come without fail to my house in the first watch of the night of the spring-festival when the citizens are all excited." [53] When she had said this, and pledged herself, he let her go, but, as chance would have it, she had not gone many steps further, before she was stopped by the king's domestic chaplain. She made a similar assignation with him also for the second watch of the same night; and so he too was, though with difficulty, induced to let her go; but, after she had gone a little further, up comes a third person, the head magistrate, and detains the trembling lady. Then she made a similar assignation with him too for the third watch of the same night, and having by great good fortune got him to release her, she went home all trembling, and of her own accord told her handmaids the arrangements she had made, reflecting, "Death is better for a woman of good family when her husband is away, than to meet the eyes of people who lust after beauty." Full of these thoughts and regretting me, the virtuous lady spent that night in fasting, lamenting her own beauty. Early the next morning she sent a maid-servant to the merchant Hiranyagupta to ask for some money in order that she might honour the Bráhmans: then that merchant also came and said to her in private, "Shew me love, and then I will give you what your husband deposited." When she heard that, she reflected that she had no witness to prove the deposit of her husband's wealth, and perceived that the merchant was a villain, and so tortured with sorrow and grief, she made a fourth and last assignation with him for the last watch of the same night; so he went away. In the meanwhile she had prepared by her handmaids in a large vat lamp-black mixed with oil and scented with musk and other perfumes, and she made ready four pieces of rag anointed with it, and she caused to be made a large trunk with a fastening outside. So on that day of the spring-festival the prince's minister came in the first watch of the night in gorgeous array. When he had entered without being observed Upakosá said to him, "I will not receive you until you have bathed, so go in and bathe." The simpleton agreed to that, and was taken by the handmaids into a secret dark inner apartment. There they took off his under-garments and his jewels, and gave him by way of an under-garment a single piece of rag, and they smeared the rascal from head to foot with a thick coating of that lamp-black and oil, pretending it was an unguent, without his detecting it. While they continued rubbing it into every limb, the second watch of the night came and the chaplain arrived, the handmaids thereupon said to the minister,--"here is the king's chaplain come, a great friend of Vararuchi's, so creep into this box"--and they bundled him into the trunk, just as he was, all naked, with the utmost precipitation: and then they fastened it outside with a bolt. The priest too was brought inside into the dark room on the pretence of a bath, and was in the same way stripped of his garments and ornaments, and made a fool of by the handmaids by being rubbed with lamp-black and oil, with nothing but the piece of rag on him, until in the third watch the chief magistrate arrived. The handmaids immediately terrified the priest with the news of his arrival, and pushed him into the trunk like his predecessor. After they had bolted him in, they brought in the magistrate on the pretext of giving him a bath, and so he, like his fellows, with the piece of rag for his only garment, was bamboozled by being continually anointed with lamp-black, until in the last watch of the night the merchant arrived. The handmaids made use of his arrival to alarm the magistrate and bundled him also into the trunk, and fastened it on the outside. So those three being shut up inside the box, as if they were bent on accustoming themselves to live in the hell of blind darkness, did not dare to speak on account of fear, though they touched one another. Then Upakosá brought a lamp into the room, and making the merchant enter it, said to him, "give me that money which my husband deposited with you." When he heard that, the rascal said, observing that the room was empty, "I told you that I would give you the money your husband deposited with me." Upakosá calling the attention of the people in the trunk, said--"Hear, O ye gods this speech of Hiranyagupta." When she had said this, she blew out the light, and the merchant, like the others, on the pretext of a bath was anointed by the handmaids for a long time with lamp-black. Then they told him to go, for the darkness was over, and at the close of the night they took him by the neck and pushed him out of the door sorely against his will. Then he made the best of his way home, with only the piece of rag to cover his nakedness, and smeared with the black dye, with the dogs biting him at every step, thoroughly ashamed of himself, and at last reached his own house; and when he got there he did not dare to look his slaves in the face while they were washing off that black dye. The path of vice is indeed a painful one. In the early morning Upakosá accompanied by her handmaids went, without informing her parents, to the palace of king Nanda, and there she herself stated to the king that the merchant Hiranyagupta was endeavouring to deprive her of money deposited with him by her husband. The king in order to enquire into the matter immediately had the merchant summoned, who said--"I have nothing in my keeping belonging to this lady." Upakosá then said, "I have witnesses, my lord; before he went, my husband put the household gods into a box, and this merchant with his own lips admitted the deposit in their presence. Let the box be brought here and ask the gods yourself." Having heard this the king in astonishment ordered the box to be brought. Thereupon in a moment that trunk was carried in by many men. Then Upakosá said--"Relate truly, O gods, what that merchant said and then go to your own houses; if you do not, I will burn you or open the box in court." Hearing that, the men in the box, beside themselves with fear, said--"It is true, the merchant admitted the deposit in our presence." Then the merchant being utterly confounded confessed all his guilt; but the king, being unable to restrain his curiosity, after asking permission of Upakosá, opened the chest there in court by breaking the fastening, and those three men were dragged out, looking like three lumps of solid darkness, and were with difficulty recognised by the king and his ministers. The whole assembly then burst out laughing, and the king in his curiosity asked Upakosá, what was the meaning of all this; so the virtuous lady told the whole story. All present in court expressed their approbation of Upakosá's conduct, observing: "The virtuous behaviour of women of good family who are protected by their own excellent disposition [54] only, is incredible." Then all those coveters of their neighbour's wife were deprived of all their living, and banished from the country. Who prospers by immorality? Upakosá was dismissed by the king, who shewed his great regard for her by a present of much wealth, and said to her: "Henceforth thou art my sister,"--and so she returned home. Varsha and Upavarsha when they heard it, congratulated that chaste lady, and there was a smile of admiration on the face of every single person in that city. [55] In the meanwhile, by performing a very severe penance on the snowy mountain, I propitiated the god, the husband of Párvatí, the great giver of all good things; he revealed to me that same treatise of Pánini; and in accordance with his wish I completed it: then I returned home without feeling the fatigue of the journey, full of the nectar of the favour of that god who wears on his crest a digit of the moon; then I worshipped the feet of my mother and of my spiritual teachers, and heard from them the wonderful achievement of Upakosá, thereupon joy and astonishment swelled to the upmost height in my breast, together with natural affection and great respect for my wife. Now Varsha expressed a desire to hear from my lips the new grammar, and thereupon the god Kártikeya himself revealed it to him. And it came to pass that Vyádi and Indradatta asked their preceptor Varsha what fee they should give him? He replied, "Give me ten millions of gold pieces." So they, consenting to the preceptor's demand, said to me; "Come with us, friend, to ask the king Nanda to give us the sum required for our teacher's fee; we cannot obtain so much gold from any other quarter: for he possesses nine hundred and ninety millions, and long ago he declared your wife Upakosá, his sister in the faith, therefore you are his brother-in-law; we shall obtain something for the sake of your virtues." Having formed this resolution, we three fellow-students [56] went to the camp of king Nanda in Ayodhyá, and the very moment we arrived, the king died; accordingly an outburst of lamentation arose in the kingdom, and we were reduced to despair. Immediately Indradatta, who was an adept in magic, said, "I will enter the body of this dead king [57]; let Vararuchi prefer the petition to me, and I will give him the gold, and let Vyádi guard my body until I return." Saying this, Indradatta entered into the body of king Nanda, and when the king came to life again, there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. While Vyádi remained in an empty temple to guard the body of Indradatta, I went to the king's palace. I entered, and after making the usual salutation, I asked the supposed Nanda for ten million gold pieces as my instructor's fee. Then he ordered a man named Sakatála, the minister of the real Nanda, to give me ten million of gold pieces. That minister, when he saw that the dead king had come to life, and that the petitioner immediately got what he asked, guessed the real state of the case. What is there that the wise cannot understand? That minister said--"It shall be given, your Highness," and reflected with himself; "Nanda's son is but a child, and our realm is menaced by many enemies, so I will do my best for the present to keep his body on the throne even in its present state." Having resolved on this, he immediately took steps to have all dead bodies burnt, employing spies to discover them, and among them was found the body of Indradatta, which was burned after Vyádi had been hustled out of the temple. In the meanwhile the king was pressing for the payment of the money, but Sakatála, who was still in doubt, said to him, "All the servants have got their heads turned by the public rejoicing, let the Bráhman wait a moment until I can give it." Then Vyádi came and complained aloud in the presence of the supposed Nanda, "Help, help, a Bráhman engaged in magic, whose life had not yet come to an end in a natural way, has been burnt by force on the pretext that his body was untenanted, and this in the very moment of your good fortune." [58] On hearing this the supposed Nanda was in an indescribable state of distraction from grief: but as soon as Indradatta was imprisoned in the body of Nanda, beyond the possibility of escape, by the burning of his body, the discreet Sakatála went out and gave me that ten millions. Then the supposed Nanda, [59] full of grief, said in secret to Vyádi,--"Though a Bráhman by birth I have become a Súdra, what is the use of my royal fortune to me though it be firmly established?" When he heard that, Vyádi comforted him, [60] and gave him seasonable advice, "You have been discovered by Sakatála, so you must henceforth be on your guard against him, for he is a great minister, and in a short time he will, when it suits his purpose, destroy you, and will make Chandragupta, the son of the previous Nanda, king. Therefore immediately appoint Vararuchi your minister, in order that your rule may be firmly established by the help of his intellect, which is of god-like acuteness." When he had said this, Vyádi departed to give that fee to his preceptor, and immediately Yogananda sent for me and made me his minister. Then I said to the king, "Though your caste as a Bráhman has been taken from you, I do not consider your throne secure as long as Sakatála remains in office, therefore destroy him by some stratagem." When I had given him this advice, Yogananda threw Sakatála into a dark dungeon, and his hundred sons with him, [61] proclaiming as his crime that he had burnt a Bráhman alive. One porringer of barley-meal and one of water was placed inside the dungeon every day for Sakatála and his sons, and thereupon he said to them;--"My sons, even one man alone would with difficulty subsist on this barley-meal, much less can a number of people do so. Therefore let that one of us, who is able to take vengeance on Yogananda, consume every day the barley-meal and the water." His sons answered him, "You alone are able to punish him, therefore do you consume them." For vengeance is dearer to the resolute than life itself. So Sakatála alone subsisted on that meal and water every day. Alas! those whose souls are set on victory are cruel. Sakatála in the dark dungeon, beholding the death agonies of his starving sons, thought to himself, "A man who desires his own welfare should not act in an arbitrary manner towards the powerful, without fathoming their character and acquiring their confidence." Accordingly his hundred sons perished before his eyes, and he alone remained alive surrounded by their skeletons. Then Yogananda took firm root in his kingdom. And Vyádi approached him after giving the present to his teacher, and after coming near to him said, "May thy rule, my friend, last long! I take my leave of thee, I go to perform austerities somewhere." Hearing that, Yogananda, with his voice choked with tears, said to him, "Stop thou, and enjoy pleasures in my kingdom, do not go and desert me." Vyádi answered--"King! Life comes to an end in a moment. What wise man, I pray you, drowns himself in these hollow and fleeting enjoyments? Prosperity, a desert mirage, does not turn the head of the wise man." Saying this he went away that moment resolved to mortify his flesh with austerities. Then that Yogananda went to his metropolis Pátaliputra, for the purpose of enjoyment, accompanied by me, and surrounded with his whole army. So I, having attained prosperity, lived for a long time in that state, waited upon by Upakosá, and bearing the burden of the office of prime-minister to that king, accompanied by my mother and my preceptors. There the Ganges, propitiated by my austerities, gave me every day much wealth, and Sarasvatí present in bodily form told me continually what measures to adopt. CHAPTER V. Having said this, Vararuchi continued his tale as follows:-- In course of time Yogananda became enslaved by his passions, and like a mad elephant he disregarded every restraint. Whom will not a sudden access of prosperity intoxicate? Then I reflected with myself, "The king has burst all bonds, and my own religious duties are neglected being interfered with by my care for his affairs, therefore it is better for me to draw out that Sakatála from his dungeon and make him my colleague in the ministry; even if he tries to oppose me, what harm can he do as long as I am in office?" Having resolved on this I asked permission of the king, and drew Sakatála out of the deep dungeon. Bráhmans are always soft-hearted. Now the discreet Sakatála made up his mind, that it would be difficult to overthrow Yogananda as long as I was in office, and that he had accordingly better imitate the cane which bends with the current, and watch a favourable moment for vengeance, so at my request he resumed the office of minister and managed the king's affairs. Once on a time Yogananda went outside the city, and beheld in the middle of the Ganges a hand, the five fingers of which were closely pressed together. That moment he summoned me and said, "What does this mean?" But I displayed two of my fingers in the direction of the hand. Thereupon that hand disappeared, and the king, exceedingly astonished, again asked me what this meant, and I answered him, "That hand meant to say, by shewing its five fingers, 'What cannot five men united effect in this world?' Then I, king, shewed it these two fingers, wishing to indicate that nothing is impossible when even two men are of one mind." When I uttered this solution of the riddle the king was delighted, and Sakatála was despondent seeing that my intellect would be difficult to circumvent. One day Yogananda saw his queen leaning out of the window and asking questions of a Bráhman guest that was looking up. That trivial circumstance threw the king into a passion, and he gave orders that the Bráhman should be put to death; for jealousy interferes with discernment. Then as that Bráhman was being led off to the place of execution in order that he might be put to death, a fish in the market laughed aloud, though it was dead. [62] The king hearing it immediately prohibited for the present the execution of that Bráhman, and asked me the reason why the fish laughed. I replied that I would tell him after I had thought over the matter; and after I had gone out Sarasvatí came to me secretly on my thinking of her and gave me this advice; "Take up a position on the top of this palm tree at night so as not to be observed, and thou shalt without doubt hear the reason why the fish laughed." Hearing this I went at night to that very place, and ensconced myself on the top of the palm tree, and saw a terrible female Rákshasa coming past with her children; when they asked her for food, she said, "Wait, and I will give you to-morrow morning the flesh of a Bráhman, he was not killed to-day." [63] They said to their mother, "Why was he not killed to-day?" Then she replied, "He was not executed because a fish in the town, though dead, laughed when it saw him." The sons said, "Why did the fish laugh?" She continued, "The fish of course said to himself--all the king's wives are dissolute, for in every part of this harem there are men dressed up as women, and nevertheless while these escape, an innocent Bráhman is to be put to death--and this tickled the fish so that he laughed. For demons assume these disguises, insinuating themselves into everything, and laughing at the exceeding want of discernment of kings." After I had heard that speech of the female Rákshasa I went away from thence, and in the morning I informed the king why the fish laughed. The king after detecting in the harem those men clothed as women, looked upon me with great respect, and released that Bráhman from the sentence of death. I was disgusted by seeing this and other lawless proceedings on the part of the king, and, while I was in this frame of mind, there came to court a new painter. He painted on a sheet of canvas the principal queen and Yogananda, and that picture of his looked as if it were alive, it only lacked speech and motion. And the king being delighted loaded that painter with wealth, and had the painting set up on a wall in his private apartments. Now one day when I entered into the king's private apartments, it occurred to me that the painting of the queen did not represent all her auspicious marks; from the arrangement of the other marks I conjectured by means of my acuteness that there ought to be a spot where the girdle comes, and I painted one there. Then I departed after thus giving the queen all her lucky marks. Then Yogananda entered and saw that spot, and asked his chamberlains who had painted it. And they indicated me to him as the person who had painted it. Yogananda thus reflected while burning with anger; "No one except myself knows of that spot, which is in a part of the queen's body usually concealed, then how can this Vararuchi have come thus to know it? [64] No doubt he has secretly corrupted my harem, and this is how he came to see there those men disguised as women." Foolish men often find such coincidences. Then of his own motion he summoned Sakatála, and gave him the following order: "You must put Vararuchi to death for seducing the queen." Sakatála said, "Your Majesty's orders shall be executed," and went out of the palace, reflecting, "I should not have power to put Vararuchi to death, for he possesses godlike force of intellect; and he delivered me from calamity; moreover he is a Bráhman, therefore I had better hide him and win him over to my side." Having formed this resolution, he came and told me of the king's causeless wrath which had ended in his ordering my execution, and thus concluded, "I will have some one else put to death in order that the news may get abroad, and do you remain hidden in my house to protect me from this passionate king." In accordance with this proposal of his, I remained concealed in his house, and he had some one else put to death at night in order that the report of my death might be spread. [65] When he had in this way displayed his statecraft, I said to him out of affection, "You have shewn yourself an unrivalled minister in that you did not attempt to put me to death; for I cannot be slain, since I have a Rákshasa to friend, and he will come, on being only thought of, and at my request will devour the whole world. As for this king he is a friend of mine, being a Bráhman named Indradatta, and he ought not to be slain." Hearing this, that minister said--"Shew me the Rákshasa." Then I shewed him that Rákshasa who came with a thought; and on beholding him, Sakatála was astonished and terrified. And when the Rákshasa had disappeared, Sakatála again asked me--"How did the Rákshasa become your friend?" Then I said--"Long ago the heads of the police as they went through the city night after night on inspecting duty, perished one by one. On hearing that, Yogananda made me head of the police, and as I was on my rounds at night, I saw a Rákshasa roaming about, and he said to me, "Tell me, who is considered the best-looking woman in this city?" When I heard that, I burst out laughing and said--"You fool, any woman is good-looking to the man who admires her." Hearing my answer, he said--"You are the only man that has beaten me." And now that I had escaped death by solving his riddle, [66] he again said to me, "I am pleased with you, henceforth you are my friend, and I will appear to you when you call me to mind." Thus he spoke and disappeared, and I returned by the way that I came. Thus the Rákshasa has become my friend, and my ally in trouble. When I had said this, Sakatála made a second request to me, and I shewed him the goddess of the Ganges in human form who came when I thought of her. And that goddess disappeared when she had been gratified by me with hymns of praise. But Sakatála became from thenceforth my obedient ally. Now once on a time that minister said to me when my state of concealment weighed upon my spirits; "why do you, although you know all things, abandon yourself to despondency? Do you not know that the minds of kings are most undiscerning, and in a short time you will be cleared from all imputations; [67] in proof of which listen to the following tale:-- The story of Sivavarman. There reigned here long ago a king named Ádityavarman, and he had a very wise minister, named Sivavarman. Now it came to pass that one of that king's queens became pregnant, and when he found it out, the king said to the guards of the harem, "It is now two years since I entered this place, then how has this queen become pregnant? Tell me." Then they said, "No man except your minister Sivavarman is allowed to enter here, but he enters without any restriction." When he heard that, the king thought,--"Surely he is guilty of treason against me, and yet if I put him to death publicly, I shall incur reproach,"--thus reflecting, that king sent that Sivavarman on some pretext to Bhogavarman a neighbouring chief, [68] who was an ally of his, and immediately afterwards the king secretly sent off a messenger to the same chief, bearing a letter by which he was ordered to put the minister to death. When a week had elapsed after the minister's departure, that queen tried to escape out of fear, and was taken by the guards with a man in woman's attire, then Ádityavarman when he heard of it was filled with remorse, and asked himself why he had causelessly brought about the death of so excellent a minister. In the meanwhile Sivavarman reached the Court of Bhogavarman, and that messenger came bringing the letter; and fate would have it so that after Bhogavarman had read the letter he told to Sivavarman in secret the order he had received to put him to death. The excellent minister Sivavarman in his turn said to that chief,--"put me to death; if you do not, I will slay myself with my own hand." When he heard that, Bhogavarman was filled with wonder, and said to him, "What does all this mean? Tell me Bráhman, if you do not, you will lie under my curse." Then the minister said to him, "King, in whatever land I am slain, on that land God will not send rain for twelve years." When he heard that, Bhogavarman debated with his minister,--"that wicked king desires the destruction of our land, for could he not have employed secret assassins to kill his minister? So we must not put this minister to death, moreover we must prevent him from laying violent hands on himself." Having thus deliberated and appointed him guards, Bhogavarman sent Sivavarman out of his country that moment; so that minister by means of his wisdom returned alive, and his innocence was established from another quarter, for righteousness cannot be undone. In the same way your innocence will be made clear, Kátyáyana; remain for a while in my house; this king too will repent of what he has done. When Sakatála said this to me, I spent those days concealed in his house, waiting my opportunity. Then it came to pass that one day, O Kánabhúti, a son of that Yogananda named Hiranyagupta went out hunting, and when he had somehow or other been carried to a great distance by the speed of his horse, while he was alone in the wood the day came to an end; and then he ascended a tree to pass the night. Immediately afterwards a bear, which had been terrified by a lion, ascended the same tree; he seeing the prince frightened, said to him with a human voice, "Fear not, thou art my friend," and thus promised him immunity from harm. Then the prince confiding in the bear's promise went to sleep, while the bear remained awake. Then the lion below said to the bear, "Bear, throw me down this man, and I will go away." Then the bear said, "Villain, I will not cause the death of a friend." When in course of time the bear went to sleep while the prince was awake, the lion said again, "Man, throw me down the bear." When he heard that, the prince, who through fear for his own safety wished to propitiate the lion, tried to throw down the bear, but wonderful to say, it did not fall, since Fate caused it to awake. And then that bear said to the prince, "become insane, thou betrayer of thy friend," [69] laying upon him a curse destined not to end until a third person guessed the whole transaction. Accordingly the prince, when he reached his palace in the morning went out of his mind, and Yogananda seeing it, was immediately plunged in despondency; and said, "If Vararuchi were alive at this moment, all this matter would be known; curse on my readiness to have him put to death!" Sakatála, when he heard this exclamation of the king's, thought to himself, "Ha! here is an opportunity obtained for bringing Kátyáyana out of concealment, and he being a proud man will not remain here, and the king will repose confidence in me." After reflecting thus, he implored pardon, and said to the king, "O King, cease from despondency, Vararuchi remains alive." Then Yogananda said, "Let him be brought quickly." Then I was suddenly brought by Sakatála into the presence of Yogananda and beheld the prince in that state; and by the favour of Sarasvatí I was enabled to reveal the whole occurrence; and I said, "King, he has proved a traitor to his friend"; then I was praised by that prince who was delivered from his curse; and the king asked me how I had managed to find out what had taken place. Then I said, "King, the minds of the wise see everything by inference from signs, and by acuteness of intellect. So I found out all this in the same way as I found out that mole." When I had said this, that king was afflicted with shame. Then without accepting his munificence, considering myself to have gained all I desired by the clearing of my reputation, I went home: for to the wise character is wealth. And the moment I arrived, the servants of my house wept before me, and when I was distressed at it Upavarsha came to me and said, "Upakosá, when she heard that the king had put you to death, committed her body to the flames, and then your mother's heart broke with grief." Hearing that, senseless with the distraction produced by recently aroused grief, I suddenly fell on the ground like a tree broken by the wind: and in a moment I tasted the relief of loud lamentations; whom will not the fire of grief, produced by the loss of dear relations, scorch? Varsha came and gave me sound advice in such words as these, "The only thing that is stable in this ever-changeful world is instability, then why are you distracted though you know this delusion of the Creator"? By the help of these and similar exhortations I at length, though with difficulty, regained my equanimity; then with heart disgusted with the world, I flung aside all earthly lords, and choosing self-restraint for my only companion, I went to a grove where asceticism was practised. Then, as days went by, once on a time a Bráhman from Ayodhyá came to that ascetic-grove while I was there: I asked him for tidings about Yogananda's government, and he recognizing me told me in sorrowful accents the following story: "Hear what happened to Nanda after you had left him. Sakatála after waiting for it a long time, found that he had now obtained an opportunity of injuring him. While thinking how he might by some device get Yogananda killed, he happened to see a Bráhman named Chánakya digging up the earth in his path; he said to him, "Why are you digging up the earth?" The Bráhman, whom he had asked, said, I am rooting up a plant of darbha grass here, because it has pricked my foot. [70] When he heard that, the minister thought that Bráhman who formed such stern resolves out of anger, would be the best instrument to destroy Nanda with. After asking his name he said to him, "Bráhman, I assign to you the duty of presiding at a sráddha on the thirteenth day of the lunar fortnight, in the house of king Nanda; you shall have one hundred thousand gold pieces by way of fee, and you shall sit at the board above all others; in the meanwhile come to my house." Saying this, Sakatála took that Bráhman to his house, and on the day of the sráddha he showed the Bráhman to the king, and he approved of him. Then Chánakya went and sat at the head of the table during the sráddha, but a Bráhman named Subandhu desired that post of honour for himself. Then Sakatála went and referred the matter to king Nanda, who answered, "Let Subandhu sit at the head of the table, no one else deserves the place." Then Sakatála went, and, humbly bowing through fear, communicated that order of the king's to Chánakya, adding, "it is not my fault." Then that Chánakya, being, as it were, inflamed all over with wrath, undoing the lock of hair on the crown of his head, made this solemn vow, "Surely this Nanda must be destroyed by me within seven days, and then my anger being appeased I will bind up my lock." When he had said this, Yogananda was enraged; so Chánakya escaped unobserved, and Sakatála gave him refuge in his house. Then being supplied by Sakatála with the necessary instruments, that Bráhman Chánakya went somewhere and performed a magic rite; in consequence of this rite Yogananda caught a burning fever, and died when the seventh day arrived; and Sakatála, having slain Nanda's son Hiranyagupta, bestowed the royal dignity upon Chandragupta a son of the previous Nanda. And after he had requested Chánakya, equal in ability to Brihaspati, [71] to be Chandragupta's prime-minister, and established him in the office, that minister, considering that all his objects had been accomplished, as he had wreaked his vengeance on Yogananda, despondent through sorrow for the death of his sons, retired to the forest." [72] After I had heard this, O Kánabhúti, from the mouth of that Bráhman, I became exceedingly afflicted, seeing that all things are unstable; and on account of my affliction I came to visit this shrine of Durgá, and through her favour having beheld you, O my friend, I have remembered my former birth. And having obtained divine discernment I have told you the great tale: now as my curse has spent its strength, I will strive to leave the body; and do you remain here for the present, until there comes to you a Bráhman named Gunádhya, who has forsaken the use of three languages, [73] surrounded with his pupils, for he like myself was cursed by the goddess in anger, being an excellent Gana Mályaván by name, who for taking my part has become a mortal. To him you must tell this tale originally told by Siva, then you shall be delivered from your curse, and so shall he. Having said all this to Kánabhúti, that Vararuchi set forth for the holy hermitage of Badariká in order to put off his body. As he was going along he beheld on the banks of the Ganges a vegetable-eating [74] hermit, and while he was looking on, that hermit's hand was pricked with kusa grass. Then Vararuchi turned his blood, as it flowed out, into sap [75] through his magic power, out of curiosity, in order to test his egotism; on beholding that, the hermit exclaimed, "Ha! I have attained perfection;" and so he became puffed up with pride. Then Vararuchi laughed a little and said to him, "I turned your blood into sap in order to test you, because even now, O hermit, you have not abandoned egotism. Egotism is in truth an obstacle in the road to knowledge hard to overcome, and without knowledge liberation cannot be attained even by a hundred vows. But the perishable joys of Svarga cannot attract the hearts of those who long for liberation, therefore, O hermit, endeavour to acquire knowledge by forsaking egotism." Having thus read that hermit a lesson, and having been praised by him prostrate in adoration, Vararuchi went to the tranquil site of the hermitage of Badarí. [76] There he, desirous of putting off his mortal condition, resorted for protection with intense devotion to that goddess who only can protect, and she manifesting her real form to him told him the secret of that meditation which arises from fire, to help him to put off the body. Then Vararuchi having consumed his body by that form of meditation, reached his own heavenly home; and henceforth that Kánabhúti remained in the Vindhya forest eager for his desired meeting with Gunádhya. CHAPTER VI. Then that Mályaván wandering about in the wood in human form, passing under the name of Gunádhya, having served the king Sátaváhana, and having, in accordance with a vow, abandoned in his presence the use of Sanskrit and two other languages, with sorrowful mind came to pay a visit to Durgá, the dweller in the Vindhya hills; and by her orders he went and beheld Kánabhúti. Then he remembered his origin and suddenly, as it were, awoke from sleep; and making use of the Paisácha language, which was different from the three languages he had sworn to forsake, he said to Kánabhúti, after telling him his own name; "Quickly tell me that tale which you heard from Pushpadanta, in order that you and I together, my friend, may escape from our curse." Hearing that, Kánabhúti bowed before him, and said to him in joyful mood, "I will tell you the story, but great curiosity possesses me, my lord, first tell me all your adventures from your birth, do me this favour." Thus being entreated by him, Gunádhya proceeded to relate as follows: In Pratishthána [77] there is a city named Supratishthita; in it there dwelt once upon a time an excellent Bráhman named Somasarman, and he, my friend, had two sons Vatsa and Gulmaka, and he had also born to him a third child, a daughter named Srutárthá. Now in course of time, that Bráhman and his wife died, and those two sons of his remained taking care of their sister. And she suddenly became pregnant. Then Vatsa and Gulma began to suspect one another, because no other man came in their sister's way: thereupon Srutárthá, who saw what was in their minds, said to those brothers,--"Do not entertain evil suspicions, listen, I will tell you the truth; there is a prince of the name of Kírtisena, brother's son to Vásuki, the king of the Nágas; [78] he saw me when I was going to bathe, thereupon he was overcome with love, and after telling me his lineage and his name, made me his wife by the Gándharva marriage; he belongs to the Bráhman race, and it is by him that I am pregnant." When they heard this speech of their sister's, Vatsa and Gulma said, "What confidence can we repose in all this?" Then she silently called to mind that Nága prince, and immediately he was thought upon, he came and said to Vatsa and Gulma, "In truth I have made your sister my wife, she is a glorious heavenly nymph fallen down to earth in consequence of a curse, and you too have descended to earth for the same reason, but a son shall without fail be born to your sister here, and then you and she together shall be freed from your curse." Having said this he disappeared, and in a few days from that time, a son was born to Srutárthá; know me my friend as that son. [79] At that very time a divine voice was heard from heaven, "This child that is born is an incarnation of virtue, and he shall be called Gunádhya, [80] and is of the Bráhman caste." Thereupon my mother and uncles, as their curse had spent its force, died, and I for my part became inconsolable. Then I flung aside my grief, and though a child I went in the strength of my self-reliance to the Deccan to acquire knowledge. Then, having in course of time learned all sciences, and become famous, I returned to my native land to exhibit my accomplishments; and when I entered after a long absence into the city of Supratishthita, surrounded by my disciples, I saw a wonderfully splendid scene. In one place chanters were intoning according to prescribed custom the hymns of the Sáma Veda, in another place Bráhmans were disputing about the interpretation of the sacred books, in another place gamblers were praising gambling in these deceitful words, "Whoever knows the art of gambling, has a treasure in his grasp," and in another place, in the midst of a knot of merchants, who were talking to one another about their skill in the art of making money, a certain merchant spoke as follows: Story of the Mouse-merchant. It is not very wonderful that a thrifty man should acquire wealth by wealth; but I long ago achieved prosperity without any wealth to start with. My father died before I was born, and then my mother was deprived by wicked relations of all she possessed. Then she fled through fear of them, watching over the safety of her unborn child, and dwelt in the house of Kumáradatta a friend of my father's, and there the virtuous woman gave birth to me, who was destined to be the means of her future maintenance; and so she reared me up by performing menial drudgery. And as she was so poor, she persuaded a teacher by way of charity to give me some instruction in writing and ciphering. Then she said to me, "You are the son of a merchant, so you must now engage in trade, and there is a very rich merchant in this country called Visákhila; he is in the habit of lending capital to poor men of good family, go and entreat him to give you something to start with." Then I went to his house, and he at the very moment I entered, said in a rage to some merchant's son; "you see this dead mouse here upon the floor, even that is a commodity by which a capable man would acquire wealth, but I gave you, you good-for-nothing fellow, many dínárs, [81] and so far from increasing them, you have not even been able to preserve what you got." When I heard that, I suddenly said to that Visákhila, "I hereby take from you that mouse as capital advanced;" saying this I took the mouse up in my hand, and wrote him a receipt for it, which he put in his strong box, and off I went. The merchant for his part burst out laughing. Well, I sold that mouse to a certain merchant as cat's-meat for two handfuls of gram, then I ground up that gram, and taking a pitcher of water, I went and stood on the cross-road in a shady place, outside the city; there I offered with the utmost civility the water and gram to a band of wood-cutters; [82] every wood-cutter gave me as a token of gratitude two pieces of wood; and I took those pieces of wood and sold them in the market; then for a small part of the price which I got for them, I bought a second supply of gram, and in the same way on a second day I obtained wood from the wood-cutters. Doing this every day I gradually acquired capital, and I bought from those wood-cutters all their wood for three days. Then suddenly there befell a dearth of wood on account of heavy rains, and I sold that wood for many hundred panas, with that wealth I set up a shop, and engaging in traffic, I have become a very wealthy man by my own ability. Then I made a mouse of gold, and gave it to that Visákhila, then he gave me his daughter; and in consequence of my history I am known in the world by the name of Mouse. So without a coin in the world I acquired this prosperity. All the other merchants then, when they heard this story, were astonished. How can the mind help being amazed at pictures without walls? [83] Story of the chanter of the Sáma Veda. In another place a Bráhman who had got eight gold máshas as a present, a chanter of the Sáma Veda, received the following piece of advice from a man who was a bit of a roué, "You get enough to live upon by your position as a Bráhman, so you ought now to employ this gold for the purpose of learning the way of the world in order that you may become a knowing fellow." The fool said "Who will teach me?" Thereupon the roué said to him, "This lady [84] named Chaturiká, go to her house." The Bráhman said, "What am I to do there"? The roué replied--"Give her gold, and in order to please her make use of some sáma." [85] When he heard this, the chanter went quickly to the house of Chaturiká; when he entered, the lady advanced to meet him and he took a seat. Then that Bráhman gave her the gold and faltered out the request, "Teach me now for this fee the way of the world." Thereupon the people who were there began to titter, and he, after reflecting a little, putting his hands together in the shape of a cow's ear, so that they formed a kind of pipe, began, like a stupid idiot, to chant with a shrill sound the Sáma Veda, so that all the roués in the house came together to see the fun; and they said "Whence has this jackal blundered in here? Come, let us quickly give him the half-moon [86] on his throat." Thereupon the Bráhman supposing that the half-moon meant an arrow with a head of that shape, and afraid of having his head cut off, rushed out of the house, bellowing out, "I have learnt the way of the world;" then he went to the man who had sent him, and told him the whole story. He replied "when I told you to use sáma, I meant coaxing and wheedling; what is the propriety of introducing the Veda in a matter of this kind? The fact is, I suppose, that stupidity is engrained in a man who muddles his head with the Vedas?" So he spoke, bursting with laughter all the while, and went off to the lady's house, and said to her, "Give back to that two-legged cow his gold-fodder." So she laughing gave back the money, and when the Bráhman got it, he went back to his house as happy as if he had been born again. Witnessing strange scenes of this kind at every step, I reached the palace of the king which was like the court of Indra. And then I entered it, with my pupils going before to herald my arrival, and saw the king Sátaváhana sitting in his hall of audience upon a jewelled throne, surrounded by his ministers, Sarvavarman and his colleagues, as Indra is by the gods. After I had blessed him and had taken a seat, and had been honoured by the king, Sarvavarman and the other ministers praised me in the following words, "This man, O king, is famous upon the earth as skilled in all lore, and therefore his name Gunádhya [87] is a true index of his nature." Sátaváhana hearing me praised in this style by his ministers, was pleased with me and immediately entertained me honourably, and appointed me to the office of Minister. Then I married a wife, and lived there comfortably, looking after the king's affairs and instructing my pupils. Once, as I was roaming about at leisure on the banks of the Godávarí out of curiosity, I beheld a garden called Devíkriti, and seeing that it was an exceedingly pleasant garden, like an earthly Nandana, [88] I asked the gardener how it came there, and he said to me, "My lord, according to the story which we hear from old people, long ago there came here a certain Bráhman who observed a vow of silence and abstained from food, he made this heavenly garden with a temple; then all the Bráhmans assembled here out of curiosity, and that Bráhman being persistently asked by them told his history. There is in this land a province called Vakakachchha on the banks of the Narmadá, in that district I was born as a Bráhman, and in former times no one gave me alms, as I was lazy as well as poor; then in a fit of annoyance I quitted my house being disgusted with life, and wandering round the holy places, I came to visit the shrine of Durgá the dweller in the Vindhya hills, and having beheld that goddess, I reflected, 'People propitiate with animal offerings this giver of boons, but I will slay myself here, stupid beast that I am.' Having formed this resolve, I took in hand a sword to cut off my head. Immediately that goddess being propitious, herself said to me, 'Son, thou art perfected, do not slay thyself, remain near me;' thus I obtained a boon from the goddess and attained divine nature; from that day forth my hunger and thirst disappeared; then once on a time, as I was remaining there, that goddess herself said to me, 'Go, my son, and plant in Pratishthána a glorious garden;' thus speaking, she gave me, with her own hands, heavenly seed; thereupon I came here and made this beautiful garden by means of her power; and this garden you must keep in good order. Having said this, he disappeared. In this way this garden was made by the goddess long ago, my lord." When I had heard from the gardener this signal manifestation of the favour of the goddess, I went home penetrated with wonder. The story of Sátaváhana. When Gunádhya had said this, Kánabhúti asked, "Why, my lord, was the king called Sátaváhana?" Then Gunádhya said, Listen, I will tell you the reason. There was a king of great power named Dvípikarni. He had a wife named Saktimatí, whom he valued more than life, and once upon a time a snake bit her as she was sleeping in the garden. Thereupon she died, and that king thinking only of her, though he had no son, took a vow of perpetual chastity. Then once upon a time the god of the moony crest said to him in a dream--"While wandering in the forest thou shalt behold a boy mounted on a lion, take him and go home, he shall be thy son." Then the king woke up, and rejoiced remembering that dream, and one day in his passion for the chase he went to a distant wood; there in the middle of the day that king beheld on the bank of a lotus-lake a boy splendid as the sun, riding on a lion; the lion desiring to drink water set down the boy, and then the king remembering his dream slew it with one arrow. The creature thereupon abandoned the form of a lion, and suddenly assumed the shape of a man; the king exclaimed, "Alas! what means this? tell me!" and then the man answered him--"O king, I am a Yaksha of the name of Sáta, an attendant upon the god of wealth; long ago I beheld the daughter of a Rishi bathing in the Ganges; she too, when she beheld me, felt love arise in her breast, like myself: then I made her my wife by the Gándharva form of marriage; and her relatives, finding it out, in their anger cursed me and her, saying, "You two wicked ones, doing what is right in your own eyes, shall become lions." The hermit-folk appointed that her curse should end when she gave birth to offspring, and that mine should continue longer, until I was slain by thee with an arrow. So we became a pair of lions; she in course of time became pregnant, and then died after this boy was born, but I brought him up on the milk of other lionesses, and lo! to-day I am released from my curse having been smitten by thee with an arrow. Therefore receive this noble son which I give thee, for this thing was foretold long ago by those hermit-folk." Having said this that Guhyaka named Sáta disappeared, [89] and the king taking the boy went home; and because he had ridden upon Sáta he gave the boy the name of Sátaváhana, and in course of time he established him in his kingdom. Then, when that king Dvípikarni went to the forest, this Sátaváhana became sovereign of the whole earth. Having said this in the middle of his tale in answer to Kánabhúti's question, the wise Gunádhya again called to mind and went on with the main thread of his narrative. Then once upon a time, in the spring festival that king Sátaváhana went to visit the garden made by the goddess, of which I spake before. He roamed there for a long time like Indra in the garden of Nandana, and descended into the water of the lake to amuse himself in company with his wives. There he sprinkled his beloved ones sportively with water flung by his hands, and was sprinkled by them in return like an elephant by its females. His wives with faces, the eyes of which were slightly reddened by the collyrium washed into them, and which were streaming with water, and with bodies the proportions of which were revealed by their clinging garments, pelted him vigorously; and as the wind strips the creepers in the forest of leaves and flowers, so he made his fair ones who fled into the adjoining shrubbery lose the marks on their foreheads [90] and their ornaments. Then one of his queens tardy with the weight of her breasts, with body tender as a sirísha flower, became exhausted with the amusement; she not being able to endure more, said to the king who was sprinkling her with water,--"do not pelt me with water-drops;" on hearing that, the king quickly had some sweetmeats [91] brought; then the queen burst out laughing and said again--"king, what do we want with sweetmeats in the water? For I said to you, do not sprinkle me with water-drops. Do you not even understand the coalescence of the words má and udaka, and do you not know that chapter of the grammar,--how can you be such a blockhead?" When the queen, who knew grammatical treatises, said this to him, and the attendants laughed, the king was at once overpowered with secret shame; he left off romping in the water and immediately entered his own palace unperceived, crest-fallen, and full of self-contempt. Then he remained lost in thought, bewildered, averse to food and other enjoyments, and, like a picture, even when asked a question, he answered nothing. Thinking that his only resource was to acquire learning or die, he flung himself down on a couch, and remained in an agony of grief. Then all the king's attendants, seeing that he had suddenly fallen into such a state, were utterly beside themselves to think what it could mean. Then I and Sarvavarman came at last to hear of the king's condition, and by that time the day was almost at an end. So perceiving that the king was still in an unsatisfactory condition, we immediately summoned a servant of the king named Rájahansa. And he, when asked by us about the state of the king's health, said this--"I never before in my life saw the king in such a state of depression: and the other queens told me with much indignation that he had been humiliated to-day by that superficial blue-stocking, the daughter of Vishnusakti." When Sarvavarman and I had heard this from the mouth of the king's servant, we fell into a state of despondency, and thus reflected in our dilemma; "If the king were afflicted with bodily disease, we might introduce the physicians, but if his disease is mental it is impossible to find the cause of it. For there is no enemy in his country the thorns of which are destroyed, and these subjects are attached to him; no dearth of any kind is to be seen; so how can this sudden melancholy of the king's have arisen?" After we had debated to this effect, the wise Sarvavarman said as follows--"I know the cause, this king is distressed by sorrow for his own ignorance, for he is always expressing a desire for culture, saying 'I am a blockhead;' I long ago detected this desire of his, and we have heard that the occasion of the present fit is his having been humiliated by the queen." Thus we debated with one another and after we had passed that night, in the morning we went to the private apartments of the sovereign. There, though strict orders had been given that no one was to enter, I managed to get in with difficulty, and after me Sarvavarman slipped in quickly. I then sat down near the king and asked him this question--"Why, O king, art thou without cause thus despondent?" Though he heard this, Sátaváhana nevertheless remained silent, and then Sarvavarman uttered this extraordinary speech, "King, thou didst long ago say to me, 'Make me a learned man.' Thinking upon that I employed last night a charm to produce a dream. [92] Then I saw in my dream a lotus fallen from heaven, and it was opened by some heavenly youth, and out of it came a divine woman in white garments, and immediately, O king, she entered thy mouth. When I had seen so much I woke up, and I think without doubt that the woman who visibly entered thy mouth was Sarasvatí." As soon as Sarvavarman had in these terms described his dream, the king broke his silence and said to me with the utmost earnestness,--"In how short a time can a man, who is diligently taught, acquire learning? Tell me this. For without learning all this regal splendour has no charms for me. What is the use of rank and power to a blockhead? They are like ornaments on a log of wood." Then I said, "King, it is invariably the case that it takes men twelve years to learn grammar, the gate to all knowledge. But I, my sovereign, will teach it you in six years." When he heard that, Sarvavarman suddenly exclaimed in a fit of jealousy--"How can a man accustomed to enjoyment endure hardship for so long? So I will teach you grammar, my prince, in six months." When I heard this promise which it seemed impossible to make good, I said to him in a rage, "If you teach the king in six months, I renounce at once and for ever Sanskrit, Prakrit, and the vernacular dialect, these three languages which pass current among men;" [93] then Sarvavarman said--"And if I do not do this, I Sarvavarman, will carry your shoes on my head for twelve years." Having said this he went out; I too went home; and the king for his part was comforted, expecting that he would attain his object by means of one of us two. Now Sarvavarman being in a dilemma, seeing that his promise was one very difficult to perform, and regretting what he had done, told the whole story to his wife, and she grieved to hear it said to him, "My lord, in this difficulty there is no way of escape for you except the favour of the Lord Kártikeya." [94] "It is so," said Sarvavarman and determined to implore it. Accordingly in the last watch of the night, Sarvavarman set out fasting for the shrine of the god. Now I came to hear of it by means of my secret emissaries, and in the morning I told the king of it; and he, when he heard it, wondered what would happen. Then a trusty Rájpút called Sinhagupta said to him, "When I heard, O king, that thou wast afflicted I was seized with great despondency. Then I went out of this city, and was preparing to cut off my own head before the goddess Durgá in order to ensure thy happiness. Then a voice from heaven forbade me, saying, 'Do not so, the king's wish shall be fulfilled.' Therefore, I believe, thou art sure of success." When he had said this, that Sinhagupta took leave of the king, and rapidly despatched two emissaries after Sarvavarman; who feeding only on air, observing a vow of silence, steadfast in resolution, reached at last the shrine of the Lord Kártikeya. There, pleased with his penance that spared not the body, Kártikeya favoured him according to his desire; then the two spies sent by Sinhagupta came into the king's presence and reported the minister's success. On hearing that news the king was delighted and I was despondent, as the chátaka joys, and the swan grieves, on seeing the cloud. [95] Then Sarvavarman arrived successful by the favour of Kártikeya, and communicated to the king all the sciences, which presented themselves to him on his thinking of them. And immediately they were revealed to the king Sátaváhana. For what cannot the grace of the Supreme Lord accomplish? Then the kingdom rejoiced on hearing that the king had thus obtained all knowledge, and there was high festival kept throughout it; and that moment banners were flaunted from every house, and being fanned by the wind, seemed to dance. Then Sarvavarman was honoured with abundance of jewels fit for a king by the sovereign, who bowed humbly before him, calling him his spiritual preceptor, and he was made governor of the territory called Vakakachchha, which lies along the bank of the Narmadá. The king being highly pleased with that Rájpút Sinhagupta, who first heard by the mouth of his spies, that the boon had been obtained from the six-faced god, [96] made him equal to himself in splendour and power. And that queen too, the daughter of Vishnusakti, who was the cause of his acquiring learning, he exalted at one bound above all the queens, through affection anointing [97] her with his own hand. CHAPTER VII. Then, having taken a vow of silence, I came into the presence of the sovereign, and there a certain Bráhman recited a sloka he had composed, and the king himself addressed him correctly in the Sanskrit language; and the people who were present in court were delighted when they witnessed that. Then the king said deferentially to Sarvavarman--"Tell me thyself after what fashion the god shewed thee favour." Hearing that, Sarvavarman proceeded to relate to the king the whole story of Kártikeya's favourable acceptance of him. "I went, O king, on that occasion fasting and silent from this place, so when the journey came to an end, being very despondent, and emaciated with my severe austerities, worn out I fell senseless on the ground. Then, I remember, a man with a spear in his hand came and said to me in distinct accents, 'Rise up, my son, everything shall turn out favourably for thee.' By that speech I was, as it were, immediately bedewed with a shower of nectar, and I woke up, and seemed free from hunger and thirst and in good ease. Then I approached the neighbourhood of the god's temple, overpowered with the weight of my devotion, and after bathing I entered the inner shrine of the god in a state of agitated suspense. Then that Lord Skanda [98] gave me a sight of himself within, and thereupon Sarasvatí in visible shape entered my mouth. So that holy god, manifested before me, recited the sútra beginning 'the traditional doctrine of letters.' On hearing that, I, with the levity which is so natural to mankind, guessed the next sútra and uttered it myself. Then that god said to me, 'if thou hadst not uttered it thyself, this grammatical treatise would have supplanted that of Pánini. As it is, on account of its conciseness, it shall be called Kátantra, and Kálápaka, from the tail (kalápa) of the peacock on which I ride.' Having said this, that god himself in visible form revealed to me that new and short grammar, [99] and then added this besides; 'That king of thine in a former birth was himself a holy sage, a pupil of the hermit Bharadvája, named Krishna, great in austerity: and he, having beheld a hermit's daughter who loved him in return, suddenly felt the smart of the wound which the shaft of the flowery-arrowed god inflicts. So, having been cursed by the hermits, he has now become incarnate here, and that hermit's daughter has become incarnate as his queen. So this king Sátaváhana, being an incarnation of a holy sage, [100] when he beholds thee, will attain a knowledge of all the sciences according to thy wish. For the highest matters are easily acquired by great-souled ones, having been learnt in a former birth, the real truth of them being recalled by their powerful memories.' [101] When the god had said this, he disappeared, and I went out, and there grains of rice were presented me by the god's servants. Then I proceeded to return, O king, and wonderful to say, though I consumed those grains on my journey day after day, they remained as numerous as ever." When he had related his adventure, Sarvavarman ceased speaking, and king Sátaváhana in cheerful mood rose up and went to bathe. Then I, being excluded from business by my vow of silence, took leave, with a low bow only, of that king who was very averse to part with me, and went out of that town, accompanied by only two disciples, and, with my mind bent on the performance of austerities, came to visit the shrine of the dweller in the Vindhya hills, and having been directed by the goddess in a dream to visit thee, I entered for that purpose this terrible Vindhya forest. A hint given by a Pulinda enabled me to find a caravan, and so somehow or other, by the special favour of destiny, I managed to arrive here, and beheld this host of Pisáchas, and by hearing from a distance their conversation with one another, I have contrived to learn this Paisácha language, which has enabled me to break my vow of silence; I then made use of it to ask after you, and, hearing that you had gone to Ujjayiní, I waited here until your return; on beholding you I welcomed you in the fourth language, (the speech of the Pisáchas), and then I called to mind my origin; this is the story of my adventures in this birth. When Gunádhya had said this, Kánabhúti said to him,--"hear, how your arrival was made known to me last night. I have a friend, a Rákshasa of the name of Bhútivarman, who possesses heavenly insight; and I went to a garden in Ujjayiní, where he resides. On my asking him when my own curse would come to an end, he said, we have no power in the day, wait, and I will tell you at night. I consented and when night came on, I asked him earnestly the reason why goblins [102] delighted in disporting themselves then, as they were doing. Then Bhútivarman said to me, 'Listen, I will relate what I heard Siva say in a conversation with Brahmá. Rákshasas, Yakshas, and Pisáchas have no power in the day, being dazed with the brightness of the sun, therefore they delight in the night. And where the gods are not worshipped, and the Bráhmans, in due form, and where men eat contrary to the holy law, there also they have power. Where there is a man who abstains from flesh, or a virtuous woman, there they do not go. They never attack chaste men, heroes, and men awake.' [103] When he said this on that occasion Bhútivarman continued, 'Go, for Gunádhya has arrived, the destined means of thy release from the curse.' So hearing this, I have come, and I have seen thee, my lord; now I will relate to thee that tale which Pushpadanta told; but I feel curiosity on one point; tell me why he was called Pushpadanta and thou Mályaván." Story of Pushpadanta. Hearing this question from Kánabhúti, Gunádhya said to him. On the bank of the Ganges there is a district granted to Bráhmans by royal charter, named Bahusuvarnaka, and there lived there a very learned Bráhman named Govindadatta, and he had a wife Agnidattá who was devoted to her husband. In course of time that Bráhman had five sons by her. And they, being handsome but stupid, grew up insolent fellows. Then a guest came to the house of Govindadatta, a Bráhman Vaisvánara by name, like a second god of fire. [104] As Govindadatta was away from home when he arrived, he came and saluted his sons, and they only responded to his salute with a laugh; then that Bráhman in a rage prepared to depart from his house. While he was in this state of wrath Govindadatta came, and asked the cause, and did his best to appease him, but the excellent Bráhman nevertheless spoke as follows--"Your sons have become outcasts, as being blockheads, and you have lost caste by associating with them, therefore I will not eat in your house; if I did so, I should not be able to purify myself by any expiatory ceremony." Then Govindadatta said to him with an oath, "I will never even touch these wicked sons of mine." His hospitable wife also came and said the same to her guest; then Vaisvánara was with difficulty induced to accept their hospitality. One of Govindadatta's sons, named Devadatta, when he saw that, was grieved at his father's sternness, and thinking a life of no value which was thus branded by his parents, went in a state of despondency to the hermitage of Badariká to perform penance; there he first ate leaves, and afterwards he fed only on smoke, persevering in a long course of austerities in order to propitiate the husband of Umá [105]. So Sambhu, won over by his severe austerities, manifested himself to him, and he craved a boon from the god, that he might ever attend upon him. Sambhu thus commanded him--"Acquire learning, and enjoy pleasures on the earth, and after that thou shalt attain all thy desire." Then he, eager for learning, went to the city of Pátaliputra, and according to custom waited on an instructor named Vedakumbha. When he was there, the wife of his preceptor distracted by passion, which had arisen in her heart, made violent love to him; alas! the fancies of women are ever inconstant! Accordingly Devadatta left that place, as his studies had been thus interfered with by the god of love, and went to Pratishthána with unwearied zeal. There he repaired to an old preceptor named Mantrasvámin, with an old wife, and acquired a perfect knowledge of the sciences. And after he had acquired learning, the daughter of the king Susarman, Srí by name, cast eyes upon the handsome youth, as the goddess Srí upon Vishnu. He also beheld that maiden at a window, looking like the presiding goddess of the moon, roaming through the air in a magic chariot. Those two were, as it were, fastened together by that look which was the chain of love, and were unable to separate. The king's daughter made him a sign to come near with one finger, looking like Love's command in fleshly form. Then he came near her, and she came out of the women's apartments, and took with her teeth a flower and threw it down to him. He, not understanding this mysterious sign made by the princess, puzzled as to what he ought to do, went home to his preceptor. There he rolled on the ground unable to utter a word, being consumed within with burning pain, like one dumb and distracted; his wise preceptor guessing what was the matter by these love-symptoms, artfully questioned him, and at last he was with difficulty persuaded to tell the whole story. Then the clever preceptor guessed the riddle, and said to him, [106] "By letting drop a flower with her tooth she made a sign to you, that you were to go to this temple rich in flowers called Pushpadanta, and wait there: so you had better go now." When he heard this and knew the meaning of the sign, the youth forgot his grief. Then he went into that temple and remained there. The princess on her part also went there, giving as an excuse that it was the eighth day of the month, and then entered the inner shrine in order to present herself alone before the god; then she touched her lover who was behind the panel of the door, and he suddenly springing up threw his arms round her neck. She exclaimed, "this is strange; how did you guess the meaning of that sign of mine?" He replied, "it was my preceptor that found it out, not I." Then the princess flew into a passion and said, "Let me go, you are a dolt," and immediately rushed out of the temple, fearing that her secret would be discovered. Devadatta on his part went away, and thinking in solitude on his beloved, who was no sooner seen than lost to his eyes, was in such a state that the taper of his life was well nigh melted away in the fire of bereavement. Siva, who had been before propitiated by him, commanded an attendant of his, of the name of Panchasikha, to procure for him the desire of his heart. That excellent Gana thereupon came, and consoled him, and caused him to assume the dress of a woman, and he himself wore the semblance of an aged Bráhman. Then that worthy Gana went with him to king Susarman the father of that bright-eyed one, and said to him; "My son has been sent away somewhere, I go to seek him: accordingly I deposit with thee this daughter-in-law of mine, keep her safely, O king." Hearing that, king Susarman afraid of a Bráhman's curse, took the young man and placed him in his daughter's guarded seraglio, supposing him to be a woman. Then after the departure of Panchasikha, the Bráhman dwelt in woman's clothes in the seraglio of his beloved, and became her trusted confidante. Once on a time the princess was full of regretful longing at night, so he discovered himself to her and secretly married her by the Gándharva form of marriage. And when she became pregnant, that excellent Gana came on his thinking of him only, and carried him away at night without its being perceived. Then he quickly rent off from the young man his woman's dress, and in the morning Panchasikha resumed the semblance of a Bráhman; and going with the young man to the king Susarman he said; "O king, I have this day found my son: so give me back my daughter-in-law." Then the king, supposing that she had fled somewhere at night, alarmed at the prospect of being cursed by the Bráhman, said this to his ministers. "This is no Bráhman, this is some god come to deceive me, for such things often happen in this world. Story of king Sivi. So in former times there was a king named Sivi, self-denying, compassionate, generous, resolute, the protector of all creatures; and in order to beguile him Indra assumed the shape of a hawk, and swiftly pursued Dharma, [107] who by magic had transformed himself into a dove. The dove in terror went and took refuge in the bosom of Sivi. Then the hawk addressed the king with a human voice; 'O king, this is my natural food, surrender the dove to me, for I am hungry. Know that my death will immediately follow if you refuse my prayer; in that case where will be your righteousness?' Then Sivi said to the god,--'this creature has fled to me for protection, and I cannot abandon it, therefore I will give you an equal weight of some other kind of flesh.' The hawk said, 'if this be so, then give me your own flesh.' The king, delighted, consented to do so. But as fast as he cut off his flesh and threw it on the scale, the dove seemed to weigh more and more in the balance. Then the king threw his whole body on to the scale, and thereupon a celestial voice was heard, 'Well done! this is equal in weight to the dove.' Then Indra and Dharma abandoned the form of hawk and dove, and being highly pleased restored the body of king Sivi whole as before, and, after bestowing on him many other blessings, they both disappeared. In the same way this Bráhman is some god that has come to prove me." [108] Having said this to his ministers, that king Susarman of his own motion said to that excellent Gana that had assumed the form of a Bráhman, prostrating himself before him in fear, "Spare me; that daughter-in-law of thine was carried off last night. She has been taken somewhere or other by magic arts, though guarded night and day." Then the Gana, who had assumed the Bráhman's semblance, pretending to be with difficulty won over to pity him, said, "If this be so, king, give thy daughter in marriage to my son." When he heard this, the king afraid of being cursed, gave his own daughter to Devadatta: then Panchasikha departed. Then Devadatta having recovered his beloved, and that in an open manner, flourished in the power and splendour of his father-in-law who had no son but him. And in course of time Susarman anointed the son of his daughter by Devadatta, Mahídhara by name, as successor in his room, and retired to the forest. Then having seen the prosperity of his son, Devadatta considered that he had attained all his objects, and he too with the princess retired to the forest. There he again propitiated Siva, and having laid aside his mortal body, by the special favour of the god he attained the position of a Gana. Because he did not understand the sign given by the flower dropped from the tooth of his beloved, therefore he became known by the name of Pushpadanta in the assembly of the Ganas. And his wife became a door-keeper in the house of the goddess, under the name of Jayá: this is how he came to be called Pushpadanta: now hear the origin of my name. Long ago I was a son of that same Bráhman called Govindadatta the father of Devadatta, and my name was Somadatta. I left my home indignant for the same reason as Devadatta, and I performed austerities on the Himálaya continually striving to propitiate Siva with offerings of many garlands. The god of the moony crest, being pleased, revealed himself to me in the same way as he did to my brother, and I chose the privilege of attending upon him as a Gana, not being desirous of lower pleasures. The husband of the daughter of the mountain, that mighty god, thus addressed me; "Because I have been worshipped by thee with garlands of flowers growing in trackless forest-regions, brought with thy own hand, therefore thou shalt be one of my Ganas, and shalt bear the name of Mályaván." Then I cast off my mortal frame, and immediately attained the holy state of an attendant on the god. And so my name of Mályaván was bestowed upon me by him who wears the burden of the matted locks, [109] as a mark of his special favour. And I, that very Mályaván, have once more, O Kánabhúti, been degraded to the state of a mortal, as thou seest, owing to the curse of the daughter of the mountain, therefore do thou now tell me the tale told by Siva, in order that the state of curse of both of us may cease. NOTE TO CHAPTER VII. "Rákshasas, Yakshas, and Pisáchas have no power in the day, being dazed with the brightness of the sun therefore they delight in the night." Farmer commenting on Hamlet, Act I, Sc. I, 150, quotes the following lines of Prudentius Ad Gallicinium. Ferunt vagantes dæmonas, Lætos tenebris noctium, Gallo canente exterritos, Sparsim timere et cedere. Hoc esse signum præscii Norunt repromissæ spei, Qua nos soporis liberi Speramus adventum Dei. Douce quotes from another hymn said to have been composed by Saint Ambrose and formerly used in the Salisbury service. Præco dici jam sonat, Noctis profundæ pervigil; Nocturna lux viantibus, A nocte noctem segregans. Hoc excitatus Lucifer Solvit polum caligine; Hoc omnis errorum cohors Viam nocendi deserit. Gallo canente spes redit &c. See also Grössler's Sagen der Grafschaft Mansfeld, pp. 58 and 59; the Pentamerone of Basile, translated by Liebrecht, Vol. I, p. 251; Dasent's Norse Tales, p. 347, "The Troll turned round, and, of course, as soon as he saw the sun, he burst;" Grimm's Irische Märchen, p. x; Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, p. 63; Schöppner's Sagenbuch der Bayerischen Lande, Vol. I, pp. 123, and 228; and Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 138. He quotes the following interesting passage from the Philopseudes of Lucian, Synên achri dê alektryonôn êkousamen adontôn tote dê hê te Selênê aneptato eis ton ouranon kai hê Hekatê edy kata tês gês, kai ta alla phasmata êphanisthê, &c. CHAPTER VIII. In accordance with this request of Gunádhya that heavenly tale consisting of seven stories was told by Kánabhúti in his own language, and Gunádhya for his part using the same Paisácha language threw them into seven hundred thousand couplets in seven years; and that great poet, for fear that the Vidyádharas should steal his composition, wrote it with his own blood in the forest, not possessing ink. And so the Vidyádharas, Siddhas and other demigods came to hear it, and the heaven above where Kánabhúti was reciting, was, as it were, continually covered with a canopy. And Kánabhúti, when he had seen that great tale composed by Gunádhya, was released from his curse and went to his own place. There were also other Pisáchas that accompanied him in his wanderings: they too all of them attained heaven, having heard that heavenly tale. Then that great poet Gunádhya began to reflect, "I must make this Great Tale [110] of mine current on the earth, for that is the condition that the goddess mentioned when she revealed how my curse would end. Then how shall I make it current? To whom shall I give it?" Then his two disciples that had followed him, one of whom was called Gunadeva, and the other Nandideva said to him, "The glorious Sátaváhana alone is a fit person to give this poem to, for being a man of taste he will diffuse the poem far and wide, as the wind diffuses the perfume of the flower." "So be it," said Gunádhya, and gave the book to those two accomplished disciples and sent them to that king with it; and went himself to that same Pratishthána, but remained outside the city in the garden planted by the goddess, where he arranged that they should meet him. And his disciples went and showed the poem to king Sátaváhana, telling him at the same time that it was the work of Gunádhya. When he heard that Paisácha language and saw that they had the appearance of Pisáchas, that king, led astray by pride of learning, said with a sneer, "The seven hundred thousand couplets are a weighty authority, but the Paisácha language is barbarous, and the letters are written in blood; away with this Paisácha tale." Then the two pupils took the book, and returned by the way which they came, and told the whole circumstance to Gunádhya. Gunádhya for his part, when he heard it, was immediately overcome with sorrow; who indeed is not inly grieved when scorned by a competent authority? Then he went with his disciples to a craggy hill at no great distance, in an unfrequented but pleasant spot, and first prepared a consecrated fire cavity. Then he took the leaves one by one, and after he had read them aloud to the beasts and birds, he flung them into the fire while his disciples looked on with tearful eyes. But he reserved one story, consisting of one hundred thousand couplets, containing the history of Naraváhanadatta, for the sake of his two disciples, as they particularly fancied it. And while he was reading out and burning that heavenly tale, all the deer, boars, buffaloes and other wild animals, came there, leaving the pasturage, and formed a circle around him, listening with tears in their eyes, unable to quit the spot. [111] In the meanwhile king Sátaváhana fell sick. And the physicians said that his illness was due to eating meat wanting in nutritive qualities. And when the cooks were scolded for it, they said--"The hunters bring in to us flesh of this kind." And when the hunters were taken to task, they said,--"On a hill not very far from here there is a Bráhman reading, who throws into the fire every leaf as soon as he has read it; so all the animals go there and listen without ever grazing, they never wander anywhere else, consequently this flesh of theirs is wanting in nutritive properties on account of their going without food." When he heard this speech of the hunters he made them shew him the way, and out of curiosity went in person to see Gunádhya, and he beheld him owing to his forest life overspread with matted locks, that looked like the smoke of the fire of his curse, that was almost extinguished. Then the king recognized him as he stood in the midst of the weeping animals, and after he had respectfully saluted him, he asked him for an explanation of all the circumstances. That wise Bráhman then related to the king in the language of the demons his own history as Pushpadanta, giving an account of the curse and all the circumstances which originated the descent of the tale to earth. Then the king, discovering that he was an incarnation of a Gana, bowed at his feet, and asked him for that celestial tale that had issued from the mouth of Siva. Then Gunádhya said to that king Sátaváhana; "O king I have burnt six tales containing six hundred thousand couplets; but here is one tale consisting of a hundred thousand couplets, take that: [112] and these two pupils of mine shall explain it to you." So spake Gunádhya and took leave of the king, and then by strength of devotion laid aside his earthly body, and released from the curse ascended to his own heavenly home. Then the king took that tale which Gunádhya had given, called Vrihat Kathá, containing the adventures of Naraváhanadatta, and went to his own city. And there he bestowed on Gunadeva and Nandideva, the pupils of the poet who composed that tale, lands, gold, garments, beasts of burden, palaces, and treasures. And having recovered the sense of that tale with their help, Sátaváhana composed the book named Kathápítha, in order to shew how the tale came to be first made known in the Paisácha language. Now that tale was so full of various interest, that men were so taken up with it as to forget the tales of the gods, and after producing that effect in the city it attained uninterrupted renown in the three worlds. BOOK II. CALLED KATHÁMUKHA. This nectarous tale sprang in old time from the mouth of Siva, set in motion by his love for the daughter of the Himálaya, as the nectar of immortality sprang from the sea, when churned by the mountain Mandara. Those who drink eagerly the nectar of this tale, have all impediments removed and gain prosperity, and by the favour of Siva attain, while living upon earth, the high rank of gods. CHAPTER IX. May the water of Siva's sweat, fresh from the embrace of Gaurí, [113] which the god of love when afraid of the fire of Siva's eye, employs as his aqueous weapon, protect you. Listen to the following tale of the Vidyádharas, which the excellent Gana Pushpadanta heard on mount Kailása from the god of the matted locks, and which Kánabhúti heard on the earth from the same Pushpadanta after he had become Vararuchi, and which Gunádhya heard from Kánabhúti, and Sátaváhana heard from Gunádhya. Story of Udayana king of Vatsa. There is a land famous under the name of Vatsa, that appears as if it had been made by the Creator as an earthly rival to dash the pride of heaven. In the centre of it is a great city named Kausámbí, the favourite dwelling-place of the goddess of prosperity; the ear-ornament, so to speak, of the earth. In it dwelt a king named Satáníka, sprung from the Pándava family, he was the son of Janamejaya, and the grandson of king Paríkshit, who was the great-grandson of Abhimanyu. The first progenitor of his race was Arjuna, the might of whose strong arms was tested in a struggle with the mighty arms of Siva; [114] his wife was the earth, and also Vishnumatí his queen; the first produced jewels, but the second did not produce a son. Once on a time, as that king was roaming about in his passion for the chase, he made acquaintance in the forest with the hermit Sándilya. That worthy sage finding out that the king desired a son, came to Kausámbí and administered to his queen an artfully prepared oblation [115] consecrated with mystic verses. Then he had a son born to him called Sahasráníka. And his father was adorned by him as excellence is by modesty. Then in course of time Satáníka made that son crown-prince and though he still enjoyed kingly pleasures, ceased to trouble himself about the cares of government. Then a war arose between the gods and Asuras, and Indra sent Mátali as a messenger to that king begging for aid. Then he committed his son and his kingdom to the care of his principal minister, who was called Yogandhara, and his Commander-in-chief, whose name was Supratíka, and went to Indra with Mátali to slay the Asuras in fight. That king, having slain many Asuras, of whom Yamadanshtra was the chief, under the eyes of Indra, met death in that very battle. The king's body was brought back by Mátali, and the queen burnt herself with it, and the royal dignity descended to his son Sahasráníka. Wonderful to say, when that king ascended his father's throne, the heads of the kings on every side of his dominions were bent down with the weight. Then Indra sent Mátali, and brought to heaven that Sahasráníka, as being the son of his friend, that he might be present at the great feast which he was holding to celebrate his victory over his foes. There the king saw the gods, attended by their fair ones, sporting in the garden of Nandana, and desiring for himself a suitable wife, fell into low spirits. Then Indra, perceiving this desire of his, said to him; "King, away with despondency, this desire of thine shall be accomplished. For there has been born upon the earth one, who was long ago ordained a suitable match for thee. For listen to the following history, which I now proceed to relate to thee. "Long ago I went to the court of Brahmá in order to visit him, and a certain Vasu named Vidhúma followed me. While we were there, an Apsaras [116] named Alambushá came to see Brahmá, and her robe was blown aside by the wind. And the Vasu, when he beheld her, was overpowered by love, and the Apsaras too had her eyes immediately attracted by his form. The lotus-sprung god, [117] when he beheld that, looked me full in the face, and I, knowing his meaning, in wrath cursed those two, 'Be born, you two, shameless creatures, into the world of mortals, and there become man and wife.' That Vasu has been born as thou, Sahasráníka, the son of Satáníka, an ornament to the race of the moon. And that Apsaras too has been born in Ayodhyá as the daughter of king Kritavarman, Mrigávatí by name, she shall be thy wife." By these words of Indra the flame of love was fanned in the passionate [118] heart of the king and burst out into full blaze; as a fire when fanned by the wind. Indra then dismissed the king from heaven with all due honour in his own chariot, and he set out with Mátali [119] for his capital. But as he was starting, the Apsaras Tilottamá said to him out of affection, "King I have somewhat to say to thee, wait a moment." But he, thinking on Mrigávatí, went off without hearing what she said, then Tilottamá in her rage cursed him; "King, thou shalt be separated for fourteen years from her who has so engrossed thy mind that thou dost not hear my speech." Now Mátali heard that curse, but the king, yearning for his beloved, did not. In the chariot he went to Kausámbí but in spirit he went to Ayodhyá. Then the king told with longing heart, all that he had heard from Indra with reference to Mrigávatí, to his ministers, Yogandhara and the others: and not being able to endure delay, he sent an ambassador to Ayodhyá to ask her father Kritavarman for the hand of that maiden. And Kritavarman having heard from the ambassador his commission, told in his joy the queen Kalávatí, and then she said to him--"King we ought certainly to give Mrigávatí to Sahasráníka, and, I remember, a certain Bráhman told me this very thing in a dream"; then in his delight the king showed to the ambassador Mrigávatí's wonderful skill in dancing, singing, and other accomplishments, and her matchless beauty; so the king Kritavarman gave to Sahasráníka that daughter of his who was unequalled as a mine of graceful arts, and who shone like an incarnation of the moon; that marriage of Sahasráníka and Mrigávatí was one in which the good qualities of either party supplemented those of the other, and might be compared to the union of learning and intelligence. Not long after sons were born to the king's ministers; Yogandhara had a son born to him named Yaugandharáyana; and Supratíka had a son born to him named Rumanvat. And to the king's master of the revels was born a son named Vasantaka. Then in a few days Mrigávatí became slightly pale and promised to bear a child to king Sahasráníka. And then she asked the king, who was never tired of looking at her, to gratify her longing by filling a tank full of blood for her to bathe in. Accordingly the king, who was a righteous man, in order to gratify her desire, had a tank filled with the juice of lac and other red extracts, so that it seemed to be full of blood. [120] And while she was bathing in that lake, and covered with red dye, a bird of the race of Garuda [121] suddenly pounced upon her and carried her off thinking she was raw flesh. As soon as she was carried away in some unknown direction by the bird, the king became distracted, and his self-command forsook him as if in order to go in search of her. His heart was so attached to his beloved that it was in very truth carried off by that bird, and thus he fell senseless upon the earth. As soon as he had recovered his senses, Mátali, who had discovered all by his divine power, descended through the air and came where the king was. He consoled the king, and told him the curse of Tilottamá with its destined end, as he had heard it long ago, and then he took his departure. Then the king tormented with grief lamented on this wise; "Alas my beloved, that wicked Tilottamá has accomplished her desire." But having learned the facts about the curse, and having received advice from his ministers, he managed, though with difficulty, to retain his life through hope of a future reunion. But that bird, which had carried off Mrigávatí, as soon as it found out that she was alive, abandoned her, and as fate would have it, left her on the mountain where the sun rises. And when the bird let her drop and departed, the queen, distracted with grief and fear, saw that she was left unprotected on the slope of a trackless mountain. While she was weeping in the forest, alone, with one garment only to cover her, an enormous serpent rose up and prepared to swallow her. Then she, for whom prosperity was reserved in the future, was delivered by some heavenly hero that came down and slew the serpent, and disappeared almost as soon as he was seen. Thereupon she, longing for death, flung herself down in front of a wild elephant, but even he spared her as if out of compassion. Wonderful was it that even a wild beast did not slay her when she fell in his way! Or rather it was not to be wondered at. What cannot the will of Siva effect? Then the girl tardy with the weight of her womb, desiring to hurl herself down from a precipice, and thinking upon that lord of hers, wept aloud; and a hermit's son, who had wandered there in search of roots and fruits, hearing that, came up, and found her looking like the incarnation of sorrow. And he, after questioning the queen about her adventures, and comforting her as well as he could, with a heart melted with compassion led her off to the hermitage of Jamadagni. There she beheld Jamadagni, looking like the incarnation of comfort, whose brightness so illumined the eastern mountain that it seemed as if the rising sun ever rested on it. When she fell at his feet, that hermit who was kind to all that came to him for help, and possessed heavenly insight, said to her who was tortured with the pain of separation; "Here there shall be born to thee, my daughter, a son that shall uphold the family of his father, and thou shalt be reunited to thy husband, therefore weep not." When that virtuous woman heard that speech of the hermit's, she took up her abode in that hermitage, and entertained hope of a reunion with her beloved. And some days after, the blameless one gave birth to a charmingly beautiful son, as association with the good produces good manners. At that moment a voice was heard from heaven; "an august king of great renown has been born, Udayana by name, and his son shall be monarch of all the Vidyádharas." That voice restored to the heart of Mrigávatí joy which she had long forgotten. Gradually that boy grew up to size and strength in that grove of asceticism, accompanied by his own excellent qualities as playmates. And the heroic child had the sacraments appropriate to a member of the warrior-caste performed for him by Jamadagni, and was instructed by him in the sciences, and the practice of archery. And out of love for him Mrigávatí drew off from her own wrist, and placed on his, a bracelet marked with the name of Sahasráníka. Then that Udayana roaming about once upon a time in pursuit of deer, beheld in the forest a snake that had been forcibly captured by a Savara. [122] And he, feeling pity for the beautiful snake, said to that Savara, "Let go this snake to please me." Then that Savara said, "My lord, this is my livelihood, for I am a poor man, and I always maintain myself by exhibiting dancing snakes. The snake I previously had having died, I searched through this great wood, and, finding this one, overpowered him by charms and captured him." When he heard this, the generous Udayana gave that Savara the bracelet which his mother had bestowed on him, and persuaded him to set the snake at liberty. The Savara took the bracelet and departed, and then the snake being pleased with Udayana bowed before him and said as follows, "I am the eldest brother of Vásuki, [123] called Vasunemi: receive from me, whom thou hast preserved, this lute, sweet in the sounding of its strings, divided according to the division of the quarter-tones; and betel leaf, together with the art of weaving unfading garlands, and adorning the forehead with marks that never become indistinct." Then Udayana furnished with all these, and dismissed by the snake, returned to the hermitage of Jamadagni, raining nectar, so to speak, into the eyes of his mother. In the meanwhile that Savara who had lighted on this forest, and while roaming about in it had obtained the bracelet from Udayana by the will of fate, was caught attempting to sell this ornament marked with the king's name in the market, and was arrested by the police, and brought up in court before the king. Then king Sahasráníka himself asked him in sorrow whence he had obtained the bracelet. Then that Savara told him the whole story of his obtaining possession of the bracelet, beginning with his capture of the snake upon the eastern mountain. Hearing that from the Savara, and beholding that bracelet of his beloved, king Sahasráníka ascended the swing of doubt. Then a divine voice from heaven delighted the king who was tortured with the fire of separation, as the rain-drops delight the peacock when afflicted with the heat, uttering these words--"Thy curse is at an end, O king, and that wife of thine Mrigávatí is residing in the hermitage of Jamadagni together with thy son." Then that day at last came to an end, though made long by anxious expectation, and on the morrow that king Sahasráníka, making the Savara show him the way, set out with his army for that hermitage on the eastern mountain, in order quickly to recover his beloved wife. CHAPTER X. After he had gone a long distance the king encamped that day in a certain forest on the border of a lake. He went to bed weary, and in the evening he said to Sangataka a story-teller who had come to him on account of the pleasure he took in his service; "Tell me some tale that will gladden my heart, for I am longing for the joy of beholding the lotus-face of Mrigávatí." Then Sangataka said, King why do you grieve without cause? The union with your queen, which will mark the termination of your curse, is nigh at hand. Human beings experience many unions and separations: and I will tell you a story to illustrate this; listen, my lord! Story of Srídatta and Mrigánkavatí. Once on a time there lived in the country of Málava a Bráhman named Yajnasoma. And that good man had two sons born to him, beloved by men. One of them was known as Kálanemi and the second was named Vigatabhaya. Now, when their father had gone to heaven, those two brothers, having passed through the age of childhood, went to the city of Pátaliputra to acquire learning. And when they had completed their studies, their teacher Devasarman gave them his own two daughters, like another couple of sciences incarnate in bodily form. Then seeing that the householders around him were rich, Kálanemi through envy made a vow and propitiated the goddess of Fortune with burnt-offerings. And the goddess being satisfied appeared in bodily form and said to him--"Thou shalt obtain great wealth and a son who shall rule the earth; but at last thou shalt be put to death like a robber, because thou hast offered flesh in the fire with impure motives." When she had said this, the goddess disappeared; and Kálanemi in course of time became very rich; moreover after some days a son was born to him. So the father, whose desires were now accomplished, called that son Srídatta, [124] because he had been obtained by the favour of the goddess of Fortune. In course of time Srídatta grew up, and though a Bráhman, became matchless upon earth in the use of weapons, and in boxing and wrestling. Then Kálanemi's brother Vigatabhaya went to a foreign land, having become desirous of visiting places of pilgrimage, through sorrow for his wife, who died of the bite of a snake. Moreover the king of the land, Vallabhasakti, who appreciated good qualities, made Srídatta the companion of his son Vikramasakti. So he had to live with a haughty prince, as the impetuous Bhíma lived in his youth with Duryodhana. Then two Kshatriyas, natives of Avanti, Báhusálin and Vajramushti became friends of that Bráhman's. And some other men from the Deccan, sons of ministers, having been conquered by him in wrestling, resorted to him out of spontaneous friendship, as they knew how to value merit. Mahábala and Vyághrabhata and also Upendrabala and a man named Nishthuraka became his friends. One day, as years rolled on, Srídatta, being in attendance on the prince, went with him and those friends to sport on the bank of the Ganges; then the prince's own servants made him king, and at the same time Srídatta was chosen king by his friends. This made the prince angry, and in over-weening confidence he at once challenged that Bráhman hero to fight. Then being conquered by him in wrestling, and so disgraced, he made up his mind that this rising hero should be put to death. But Srídatta found out that intention of the prince's, and withdrew in alarm with those friends of his from his presence. And as he was going along, he saw in the middle of the Ganges a woman being dragged under by the stream, looking like the goddess of Fortune in the middle of the sea. And then he plunged in to pull her out of the water, leaving Báhusálin and his five other friends on the bank. Then that woman, though he seized her by the hair, sank deep in the water; and he dived as deep in order to follow her. And after he had dived a long way, he suddenly saw a splendid temple of Siva, but no water and no woman. [125] After beholding that wonderful sight, being wearied out he paid his adorations to the god whose emblem is a bull, and spent that night in a beautiful garden attached to the temple. And in the morning that lady was seen by him having come to worship the god Siva, like the incarnate splendour of beauty attended by all womanly perfections. And after she had worshipped the god, the moon-faced one departed to her own house, and Srídatta for his part followed her. And he saw that palace of hers resembling the city of the gods, which the haughty beauty entered hurriedly in a contemptuous manner. And without deigning to address him, the graceful lady sat down on a sofa in the inner part of the house, waited upon by thousands of women. And Srídatta also took a seat near her; then suddenly that virtuous lady began to weep. The tear-drops fell in an unceasing shower on her bosom, and that moment pity entered into the heart of Srídatta. And then he said to her, "Who art thou, and what is thy sorrow? Tell me, fair one, for I am able to remove it." Then she said reluctantly, "We are the thousand granddaughters of Bali [126] the king of the Daityas, and I am the eldest of all, and my name is Vidyutprabhá. That grandfather of ours was carried off by Vishnu to long imprisonment, and the same hero slew our father in a wrestling-match. And after he had slain him, he excluded us from our own city, and he placed a lion in it to prevent us from entering. The lion occupies that place, and grief our hearts. It is a Yaksha that was made a lion by the curse of Kuvera, and long ago it was predicted that the Yaksha's curse should end when he was conquered by some mortal; so Vishnu deigned to inform us on our humbly asking him how we might be enabled to enter our city. Therefore subdue that lion our enemy; it was for that reason, O hero, that I enticed you hither. And when you have overcome him you will obtain from him a sword named Mrigánka, by the virtue of which you shall conquer the world and become a king." When he heard that, Srídatta agreed to undertake the adventure, and after that day had passed, on the morrow he took those Daitya maidens with him as guides, and went to that city, and there he overcame in wrestling that haughty lion. [127] He being freed from his curse assumed a human form, and out of gratitude gave his sword to the man who had put an end to his curse, and then disappeared together with the burden of the sorrow of the great Asura's daughter. Then that Srídatta, together with the Daitya's daughter, who was accompanied by her younger sisters, entered that splendid city which looked like the serpent Ananta [128] having emerged from the earth. And that Daitya maiden gave him a ring that destroyed the effect of poison. Then that young man remaining there fell in love with her. And she cunningly said to him, "Bathe in this tank, and when you dive in, take with you this sword [129] to keep off the danger of crocodiles." He consented, and diving into the tank, rose upon that very bank of the Ganges from which he first plunged in. Then he, seeing the ring and the sword, felt astonishment at having emerged from the lower regions, and despondency at having been tricked by the Asura maid. Then he went towards his own house to look for his friends, and as he was going he saw on the way his friend Nishthuraka. Nishthuraka came up to him and saluted him, and quickly took him aside into a lonely place, and when asked by him for news of his relations, gave him this answer; "On that occasion when you plunged into the Ganges we searched for you many days, and out of grief we were preparing to cut off our heads, but a voice from heaven forbade that attempt of ours saying, 'My sons, do no rash act, your friend shall return alive.' And then we were returning into the presence of your father, when on the way a man hurriedly advanced to meet us and said this--'You must not enter this city at present, for the king of it Vallabhasakti is dead, and the ministers have with one accord conferred the royal dignity on Vikramasakti;' now the day after he was made king he went to the house of Kálanemi, and full of wrath asked him where his son Srídatta was, and he replied--'I do not know.' Then the king in a rage, supposing he had concealed his son, had him put to death by impalement as a thief. When his wife saw that, her heart broke. Men of cruel deeds must always pile one evil action upon another in long succession; and so Vikramasakti is searching for Srídatta to slay him, and you are his friends, therefore leave this place.' When the man had given us this warning, Báhusálin and his four companions being grieved went by common consent to their own home in Ujjayiní. And they left me here in concealment, my friend, for your sake. So come, let us go to that very place to meet our friends." Having heard this from Nishthuraka, and having bewailed his parents, Srídatta cast many a look at his sword, as if reposing in that his hope of vengeance; then the hero, biding his time, set out accompanied by Nishthuraka for that city of Ujjayiní in order to meet his friends. And as he was relating to his friend his adventures from the time of his plunging into the stream, Srídatta beheld a woman weeping in the road; when she said, "I am a woman going to Ujjayiní and I have lost my way," Srídatta out of pity made her journey along with him. He and Nishthuraka, together with that woman, whom he kept with him out of compassion, halted that day in a certain deserted town. There he suddenly woke up in the night and beheld that the woman had slain Nishthuraka, and was devouring his flesh with the utmost delight. Then he rose up drawing his sword Mrigánka, and that woman assumed her own terrible form, that of a Rákshasí, [130] and he seized that night-wanderer by her hair, to slay her. That moment she assumed a heavenly shape and said to him, "Slay me not, mighty hero, let me go, I am not a Rákshasí; the hermit Visvámitra imposed this condition on me by a curse. For once when he was performing austerities from a desire to attain the position of the god of wealth, I was sent by the god to impede him. Then finding that I was not able to seduce him with my alluring form, being abashed, I assumed in order to terrify him a formidable shape. When he saw this, that hermit laid on me a curse suitable to my offence, exclaiming--'Wicked one, become a Rákshasí and slay men.' And he appointed that my curse should end when you took hold of my hair; accordingly I assumed this detestable condition of a Rákshasí, and I have devoured all the inhabitants of this town: now to-day after a long time you have brought my curse to an end in the manner foretold; therefore receive now some boon." When he heard that speech of hers, Srídatta said respectfully, "Mother grant that my friend may be restored to life. What need have I of any other boon?" "So be it," said she, and after granting the boon disappeared. And Nishthuraka rose up again alive without a scratch on his body. Then Srídatta set out the next morning with him, delighted and astonished, and at last reached Ujjayiní. There he revived by his appearance the spirits of his friends, who were anxiously expecting him, as the arrival of the cloud revives the peacocks. And after he had told all the wonders of his adventures, Báhusálin went through the usual formalities of hospitality, taking him to his own home. There Srídatta was taken care of by the parents of Báhusálin, and lived with his friends as comfortably as if he were in his own house. Once on a time, when the great feast of spring-tide [131] had arrived, he went with his friends to behold some festal rejoicings in a garden. There he beheld a maiden, the daughter of king Bimbaki, who had come to see the show, looking like the goddess of the Splendour of Spring present in bodily form. She, by name Mrigánkavatí, that moment penetrated into his heart, as if through the openings left by the expansion of his eye. Her passionate look too, indicative of the beginning of love, fixed on him, went and returned like a confidante. When she entered a thicket of trees, Srídatta not beholding her, suddenly felt his heart so empty that he did not know where he was. His friend Báhusálin, who thoroughly understood the language of gestures, said to him, "My friend, I know your heart, do not deny your passion, therefore, come, let us go to that part of the garden where the king's daughter is." He consented and went near her accompanied by his friend. That moment a cry was heard there, which gave great pain to the heart of Srídatta, "Alas the princess has been bitten by a snake!" Báhusálin then went and said to the chamberlain--"My friend here possesses a ring that counteracts the effects of poison, and also healing spells." Immediately the chamberlain came, and bowing at his feet, quickly led Srídatta to the princess. He placed the ring on her finger, and then muttered his spells so that she revived. Then all the attendants were delighted, and loud in praise of Srídatta, and the king Bimbaki hearing the circumstances came to the place. Accordingly Srídatta returned with his friends to the house of Báhusálin without taking back the ring. And all the gold and other presents, which the delighted king sent to him there, he handed over to the father of Báhusálin. Then, thinking upon that fair one, he was so much afflicted, that his friends became utterly bewildered as to what to do with him. Then a dear friend of the princess, Bhávaniká, by name, came to him on pretence of returning the ring; and said to him, "That friend of mine, illustrious Sir, has made up her mind, that either you must save her life by becoming her husband, or she will be married to her grave." When Bhávaniká had said this, Srídatta and Báhusálin and the others quickly put their heads together and came to the following resolution, "We will carry off this princess secretly by a stratagem, and will go unperceived from here to Mathurá and live there." The plan having been thoroughly talked over, and the conspirators having agreed with one another what each was to do in order to carry it out, Bhávaniká then departed. And the next day Báhusálin, accompanied by three of his friends, went to Mathurá on pretext of trafficking, and as he went he posted in concealment at intervals swift horses for the conveyance of the princess. But Srídatta then brought at eventide a woman with her daughter into the palace of the princess, after making them both drink spirits, and then Bhávaniká, on pretence of lighting up the palace, set fire to it, and secretly conveyed the princess out of it; and that moment Srídatta, who was remaining outside, received her, and sent her on to Báhusálin, who had started in the morning, and directed two of his friends to attend on her and also Bhávaniká. Now that drunken woman and her daughter were burnt in the palace of the princess, and people supposed that the princess had been burnt with her friend. But Srídatta took care to show himself in the morning as before, in the city; then on the second night, taking with him his sword Mrigánka, he started to follow his beloved, who had set out before him. And in his eagerness he accomplished a great distance that night, and when the morning watch [132] had passed, he reached the Vindhya forest. There he first beheld unlucky omens, and afterwards he saw all those friends of his together with Bhávaniká lying in the road gashed with wounds. And when he came up all distracted, they said to him, "We were robbed to-day by a large troop of horsemen that set upon us. And after we were reduced to this state, one of the horsemen threw the terrified princess on his horse and carried her off. So before she has been carried to a great distance, go in this direction, do not remain near us, she is certainly of more importance than we." Being urged on with these words by his friends, Srídatta rapidly followed after the princess, but could not help frequently turning round to look at them. And after he had gone a considerable distance, he caught up that troop of cavalry, and he saw a young man of the warrior caste in the midst of it. And he beheld that princess held by him upon his horse. So he slowly approached that young warrior; and when soft words would not induce him to let the princess go, he hurled him from his horse with a blow of his foot, and dashed him to pieces on a rock. And after he had slain him, he mounted on his horse and slew a great number of the other horsemen who charged him in anger. And then those who remained alive, seeing that the might which the hero displayed was more than human, fled away in terror; and Srídatta mounted on the horse with the princess Mrigánkavatí and set out to find those friends of his. And after he had gone a little way, he and his wife got off the horse which had been severely wounded in the fight, and soon after it fell down and died. And then his beloved Mrigánkavatí, exhausted with fear and exertion, became very thirsty. And leaving her there, he roamed a long distance hither and thither, and while he was looking for water the sun set. Then he discovered that, though he had found water, he had lost his way, and he passed that night in the wood roaming about, moaning aloud like a Chakraváka. [133] And in the morning he reached that place, which was easy to recognise by the carcass of the horse. And nowhere there did he behold his beloved princess. Then in his distraction he placed his sword Mrigánka on the ground, and climbed to the top of a tree, in order to cast his eye in all directions for her. That very moment a certain Savara chieftain passed that way; and he came up and took the sword from the foot of the tree. Beholding that Savara chieftain, Srídatta came down from the top of the tree, and in great grief asked him for news of his beloved. The Savara chieftain said--"Leave this place and come to my village; I have no doubt she whom you seek has gone there; and I shall come there and return you this sword." When the Savara chieftain urged him to go with these words, Srídatta, being himself all eagerness, went to that village with the chief's men. And there those men said to him,--"Sleep off your fatigue,"--and when he reached the house of the chief of the village, being tired he went to sleep in an instant. And when he woke up he saw his two feet fastened with fetters, like the two efforts he had made in order to obtain his beloved, which failed to reach their object. Then he remained there weeping for his darling, who, like the course of destiny, had for a moment brought him joy, and the next moment blasted his hopes. One day a serving maid of the name of Mochaniká came to him and said,--Illustrious Sir, unwittingly you have come hither to your death? For the Savara chieftain has gone somewhither to accomplish certain weighty affairs, and when he returns, he will offer you to Chandiká. [134] For with that object he decoyed you here by a stratagem from this slope of the wild Vindhya hill, and immediately threw you into the chains in which you now are. And it is because you are intended to be offered as a victim to the goddess, that you are continually served with garments and food. But I know of only one expedient for delivering you, if you agree to it. This Savara chieftain has a daughter named Sundarí, and she having seen you is becoming exceedingly love-sick; marry her who is my friend, then you will obtain deliverance. [135] When she said this to him, Srídatta consented, desiring to be set at liberty, and secretly made that Sundarí his wife by the Gándharva form of marriage. And every night she removed his chains and in a short time Sundarí became pregnant. Then her mother, having heard the whole story from the mouth of Mochaniká, out of love for her son-in-law Srídatta, went and of her own accord said to him--"My son, Sríchanda the father of Sundarí is a wrathful man, and will show thee no mercy. Therefore depart, but thou must not forget Sundarí." When his mother-in-law had said this, she set him at liberty, and Srídatta departed after telling Sundarí that the sword, which was in her father's possession, really belonged to himself. So he again entered full of anxiety that forest, in which he had before wandered about, in order again to search for traces of Mrigávatí. And having seen an auspicious omen he came to that same place, where that horse of his died before, and whence his wife was carried off. And there he saw near [136] him a hunter coming towards him, and when he saw him he asked him for news of that gazelle-eyed lady. Then the hunter asked him "Are you Srídatta?" and he sighing replied "I am that unfortunate man." Then that hunter said, "Listen, friend, I have somewhat to tell you. I saw that wife of yours wandering hither and thither lamenting your absence, and having asked her her story, and consoled her, moved with compassion I took her out of this wood to my own village. But when I saw the young Pulindas [137] there, I was afraid, and I took her to a village named Nágasthala near Mathurá. [138] And then I placed her in the house of an old Bráhman named Visvadatta commending her with all due respect to his care. And thence I came here having learnt your name from her lips. Therefore you had better go quickly to Nágasthala to search for her." When the hunter had told him this, Srídatta quickly set out, and he reached Nágasthala in the evening of the second day. Then he entered the house of Visvadatta and when he saw him said, "Give me my wife who was placed here by the hunter." Visvadatta when he heard that, answered him, "I have a friend in Mathurá a Bráhman, dear to all virtuous men, the spiritual preceptor and minister of the king Súrasena. In his care I placed your wife. For this village is an out-of-the-way place and would not afford her protection. So go to that city to-morrow morning, but to-day rest here." When Visvadatta said this, he spent that night there, and the next morning he set off, and reached Mathurá on the second day. Being weary and dusty with the long journey, he bathed outside that city in the pellucid water of a lake. And he drew out of the middle of the lake a garment placed there by some robbers, not suspecting any harm. But in one corner of the garment, which was knotted up, a necklace was concealed. [139] Then Srídatta took that garment, and in his eagerness to meet his wife did not notice the necklace, and so entered the city of Mathurá. Then the city police recognized the garment, and finding the necklace, arrested Srídatta as a thief, and carried him off, and brought him before the chief magistrate exactly as he was found, with the garment in his possession; by him he was handed up to the king, and the king ordered him to be put to death. Then, as he was being led off to the place of execution with the drum being beaten behind him, [140] his wife Mrigánkavatí saw him in the distance. She went in a state of the utmost distraction and said to the chief minister, in whose house she was residing, "Yonder is my husband being led off to execution." Then that minister went and ordered the executioners to desist, and, by making a representation to the king, got Srídatta pardoned, and had him brought to his house. And when Srídatta reached his house, and saw that minister, he recognised him and fell at his feet, exclaiming, "What! is this my uncle Vigatabhaya, who long ago went to a foreign country, and do I now by good luck find him established in the position of a minister?" He too recognised to his astonishment Srídatta as his brother's son, and embraced him, and questioned him about all his adventures. Then Srídatta related to his uncle his whole history beginning with the execution of his father. And he, after weeping, said to his nephew in private, "Do not despond, my son, for I once brought a female Yaksha into subjection by means of magic; and she gave me, though I have no son, five thousand horses and seventy millions of gold pieces: and all that wealth is at your disposal." After telling him this, his uncle brought him his beloved, and he, having obtained wealth, married her on the spot. And then he remained there in joy, united with that beloved Mrigánkavatí as a bed of white lotuses [141] with the night. But even when his happiness was at its full, anxiety for Báhusálin and his companions clouded his heart, as a spot of darkness does the full moon. Now one day his uncle said secretly to Srídatta: "my son, the king Súrasena has a maiden daughter, and in accordance with his orders I have to take her to the land of Avanti to give her away in marriage; so I will take her away on that very pretext, and marry her to you. Then, when you have got possession of the force that follows her, with mine already at your disposal, you will soon gain the kingdom that was promised you by the goddess Srí." Having resolved on this, and having taken that maiden, Srídatta and his uncle set out with their army and their attendants. But as soon as they had reached the Vindhya forest, before they were aware of the danger, a large army of brigands set upon them showering arrows. After routing Srídatta's force, and seizing all the wealth, they bound Srídatta himself, who had fainted from his wounds, and carried him off to their village. And they took him to the awful temple of Durgá, in order to offer him up in sacrifice, and, as it were, summoned Death with the sound of their gongs. There Sundarí saw him, one of his wives, the daughter of the chief of the village, who had come with her young son to visit the shrine of the goddess. Full of joy she ordered the brigands, who were between her and her husband, to stand aside, and then Srídatta entered her palace with her. Immediately Srídatta obtained the sovereignty of that village, which Sundarí's father, having no son, bequeathed to her when he went to heaven. So Srídatta recovered his wife and his sword Mrigánka, and also his uncle and his followers, who had been overpowered by the robbers. And, while he was in that town, he married the daughter of Súrasena, and became a great king there. And from that place he sent ambassadors to his two fathers-in-law, to Bimbaki, and king Súrasena. And they, being very fond of their daughters, gladly recognised him as a connection, and came to him accompanied by the whole of their armies. And his friends Báhusálin and the others, who had been separated from him, when they heard what had happened, came to him with their wounds healed and in good health. Then the hero marched, united with his fathers-in-law, and made that Vikramasakti, who had put his father to death, a burnt-offering in the flame of his wrath. And then Srídatta, having gained dominion over the sea-encircled earth, and deliverance from the sorrow of separation, joyed in the society of Mrigánkavatí. Even so, my king, do men of firm resolution cross the calamitous sea of separation and obtain prosperity. After hearing this tale from Sangataka, the king Sahasráníka, though longing for the sight of his beloved one, managed to get through that night on the journey. Then, engrossed with his desire, sending his thoughts on before, in the morning Sahasráníka set out to meet his darling. And in a few days he reached that peaceful hermitage of Jamadagni, in which even the deer laid aside their wantonness. And there he beheld with reverence that Jamadagni, the sight of whom was sanctifying, like the incarnate form of penance, who received him hospitably. And the hermit handed over to him that queen Mrigávatí with her son, regained by the king after long separation, like tranquillity accompanied with joy. And that sight which the husband and wife obtained of one another, now that the curse had ceased, rained, as it were, nectar into their eyes, which were filled with tears of joy. And the king embracing that son Udayana, whom he now beheld for the first time, could with difficulty let him go, as he was, so to speak, riveted to his body with his own hairs that stood erect from joy. [142] Then king Sahasráníka took his queen Mrigávatí with Udayana, and, bidding adieu to Jamadagni, set out from that tranquil hermitage for his own city, and even the deer followed him as far as the border of the hermitage with tearful eyes. Beguiling the way by listening to the adventures of his beloved wife during the period of separation, and by relating his own, he at length reached the city of Kausámbí, in which triumphal arches were erected and banners displayed. And he entered that city in company with his wife and child, being, so to speak, devoured [143] by the eyes of the citizens, that had the fringe of their lashes elevated. And immediately the king appointed his son Udayana crown-prince, being incited to it by his excellent qualities. And he assigned to him as advisers the sons of his own ministers, Vasantaka and Rumanvat and Yaugandharáyana. Then a rain of flowers fell, and a celestial voice was heard--"By the help of these excellent ministers, the prince shall obtain dominion over the whole earth." Then the king devolved on his son the cares of empire, and enjoyed in the society of Mrigávatí the long-desired pleasures of the world. At last the desire of earthly enjoyment, beholding suddenly that old age, the harbinger of composure had reached the root of the king's ear, [144] became enraged and fled far from him. Then that king Sahasráníka established in his throne his excellent son Udayana, [145] whom the subjects loved so well, to ensure the world's prosperity, and accompanied by his ministers, and his beloved wife, ascended the Himálaya to prepare for the last great journey. CHAPTER XI. Then Udayana took the kingdom of Vatsa, which his father had bequeathed to him, and, establishing himself in Kausámbí, ruled his subjects well. But gradually he began to devolve the cares of empire upon his ministers, Yaugandharáyana and others, and gave himself up entirely to pleasures. He was continually engaged in the chase, and day and night he played on the melodious lute which Vásuki [146] gave him long ago; and he subdued evermore infuriated wild elephants, overpowered by the fascinating spell of its strings' dulcet sound, and, taming them, brought them home. That king of Vatsa drank wine adorned by the reflection of the moon-faces of fair women, and at the same time robbed his minister's faces of their cheerful hue. [147] Only one anxiety had he to bear, he kept thinking, "Nowhere is a wife found equal to me in birth and personal appearance, the maiden named Vásavadattá alone has a liking for me, but how is she to be obtained?" Chandamahásena also in Ujjayiní thought; "There is no suitable husband to be found for my daughter in the world, except one Udayana by name, and he has ever been my enemy. Then how can I make him my son-in-law and my submissive ally? There is only one device which can effect it. He wanders about alone in the forest capturing elephants, for he is a king addicted to the vice of hunting; I will make use of this failing of his to entrap him and bring him here by a stratagem: and, as he is acquainted with music, I will make this daughter of mine his pupil, and then his eye will without doubt be charmed with her, and he will certainly became my son-in-law, and my obedient ally. No other artifice seems applicable in this case for making him submissive to my will." Having thus reflected, he went to the temple of Durgá, in order that his scheme might be blessed with success, and, after worship and praise, offered a prayer to the goddess. And there he heard a bodiless voice saying, "This desire of thine, O king, shall shortly be accomplished." Then he returned satisfied, and deliberated over that very matter with the minister Buddhadatta [148] saying--"That prince is elated with pride, he is free from avarice, his subjects are attached to him, and he is of great power, therefore he cannot be reached by any of the four usual expedients beginning with negotiation, nevertheless let negotiation be tried first." [149] Having thus deliberated, the king gave this order to an ambassador, "Go and give the king of Vatsa this message from me; 'My daughter desires to be thy pupil in music, if thou love us, come here and teach her.'" When sent off by the king with this message, the ambassador went and repeated it to the king of Vatsa in Kausámbí exactly as it was delivered; and the king of Vatsa, after hearing this uncourteous message from the ambassador, repeated it in private to the minister Yaugandharáyana, saying "Why did that monarch send me that insolent message? What can be the villain's object in making such a proposal?" When the king asked him this question, the great minister Yaugandharáyana, who was stern to his master for his good, thus answered him; "Your reputation for vice [150] has shot up in the earth like a creeper, and this, O king, is its biting bitter fruit. For that king Chandamahásena, thinking that you are the slave of your passions, intends to ensnare you by means of his beautiful daughter, throw you into prison, and so make you his unresisting instrument. Therefore abandon kingly vices, for kings that fall into them are easily captured by their enemies, even as elephants are taken in pits." When his minister had said this to him, the resolute king of Vatsa sent in return an ambassador to Chandamahásena with the following reply, "If thy daughter desires to become my pupil, then send her here." When he had sent this reply, that king of Vatsa said to his ministers--"I will march and bring Chandamahásena here in chains." When he heard that, the head minister Yaugandharáyana said--"That is not a fitting thing to do, my king, nor is it in thy power to do it. For Chandamahásena is a mighty monarch, and not to be subdued by thee. And in proof of this, hear his whole history, which I now proceed to relate to thee." Story of king Chandamahásena. There is in this land a city named Ujjayiní, the ornament of the earth, that, so to speak, laughs to scorn with its palaces of enamelled whiteness [151] Amarávatí, the city of the gods. In that city dwells Siva himself, the lord of existence, under the form of Mahákála, [152] when he desists from the kingly vice of absenting himself on the heights of mount Kailása. In that city lived a king named Mahendravarman, best of monarchs, and he had a son like himself, named Jayasena. Then to that Jayasena was born a son named Mahásena, matchless in strength of arm, an elephant among monarchs. And that king, while cherishing his realm, reflected, "I have not a sword worthy of me, [153] nor a wife of good family." Thus reflecting that monarch went to the temple of Durgá, and there he remained without food, propitiating for a long time the goddess. Then he cut off pieces of his own flesh, and offered a burnt-offering with them, whereupon the goddess Durgá being pleased appeared in visible shape and said to him, "I am pleased with thee, receive from me this excellent sword, by means of its magic power thou shalt be invincible to all thy enemies. Moreover thou shalt soon obtain as a wife Angáravatí, the daughter of the Asura Angáraka, the most beautiful maiden in the three worlds. And since thou didst here perform this very cruel penance, therefore thy name shall be Chandamahásena." Having said this and given him the sword, the goddess disappeared. But in the king there appeared joy at the fulfilment of his desire. He now possessed, O king, two jewels, his sword and a furious elephant named Nadágiri, which were to him what the thunderbolt and Airávana are to Indra. Then that king, delighting in the power of these two, one day went to a great forest to hunt; and there he beheld an enormous and terrible wild boar; like the darkness of the night suddenly condensed into a solid mass in the day time. That boar was not wounded by the king's arrows, in spite of their sharpness, but after breaking the king's chariot [154] fled and entered a cavern. The king, leaving that car of his, in revengeful pursuit of the boar, entered into that cavern with only his bow to aid him. And after he had gone a long distance, he beheld a great and splendid capital, and astonished he sat down inside the city on the bank of a lake. While there, he beheld a maiden moving along, surrounded by hundreds of women, like the arrow of love that cleaves the armour of self-restraint. She slowly approached the king, bathing him, so to speak, again and again in a look, that rained in showers the nectar of love. [155] She said, "who art thou, illustrious sir, and for what reason hast thou entered our home on this occasion?" The king, being thus questioned by her, told her the whole truth; hearing which, she let fall from her eyes a passionate flood of tears, and from her heart all self-control. The king said, "Who art thou, and why dost thou weep?" When he asked her this question, she, being a prisoner to love at his will, answered him, "The boar that entered here is the Daitya Angáraka by name. And I am his daughter, O king, and my name is Angáravatí. And he is of adamantine frame, and has carried off these hundred princesses from the palaces of kings and appointed them to attend on me. Moreover this great Asura has become a Rákshasa owing to a curse, but to-day as he was exhausted with thirst and fatigue, even when he found you, he spared you. At present he has put off the form of a boar and is resting in his own proper shape, but when he wakes up from his sleep, he will without fail do you an injury. It is for this reason that I see no hope of a happy issue for you, and so these tear-drops fall from my eyes like my vital spirits boiled with the fire of grief." When he heard this speech of Angáravatí's the king said to her,--"If you love me, do this which I ask you. When your father awakes, go and weep in front of him, and then he will certainly ask you the cause of your agitation; then you must say--If some one were to slay thee, what would become of me? [156] This is the cause of my grief. If you do this, there will be a happy issue both for you and me." When the king said this to her, she promised him that she would do what he wished. And that Asura maiden, apprehending misfortune, placed the king in concealment, and went near her sleeping father. Then the Daitya woke up, and she began to weep. And then he said to her, "Why do you weep, my daughter?" She with affected grief said to him, "If some one were to slay thee, what would become of me?" Then he burst out laughing and said;--"Who could possibly slay me, my daughter, for I am cased in adamant all over, only in my left hand is there an unguarded place, but that is protected by the bow." In these words the Daitya consoled his daughter, and all this was heard by the king in his concealment. Immediately afterwards the Dánava rose up and took his bath, and proceeded in devout silence to worship the god Siva; at that moment the king appeared with his bow bent, and rushing up impetuously towards the Daitya, challenged him to fight. He, without interrupting his devout silence, lifted his left hand towards the king and made a sign that he must wait for a moment. The king for his part, being very quick of hand, immediately smote him with an arrow in that hand which was his vital part. And that great Asura Angáraka, being pierced in a vital spot, immediately uttered a terrible cry and fell on the ground, and exclaimed, as his life departed,--"If that man, who has slain me when thirsty, does not offer water to my manes every year, then his five ministers shall perish." After he had said this, that Daitya died, and the king, taking his daughter Angáravatí as a prize, returned to Ujjayiní. There the king Chandamahásena married that Daitya maiden, and two sons were born to him, the first named Gopálaka, and the second Pálaka; and when they were born, he held a feast in honour of Indra on their account. Then Indra, being pleased, said to that king in a dream, "By my favour thou shalt obtain a matchless daughter." Then in course of time a graceful daughter was born to that king, like a second and more wonderful shape of the moon made by the Creator. And on that occasion a voice was heard from heaven;--"She shall give birth to a son, who shall be a very incarnation of the god of love, and king of the Vidyádharas." Then the king gave that daughter the name of Vásavadattá, because she was given by Indra being pleased with him. And that maiden still remains unmarried in the house of her father, like the goddess of prosperity in the hollow cavity of the ocean before it was churned. That king Chandamahásena cannot indeed be conquered by you, O king, in the first place because he is so powerful, and in the next place because his realm is situated in a difficult country. Moreover he is ever longing to give you that daughter of his in marriage, but being a proud monarch, he desires the triumph of himself and his adherents. But, I think, you must certainly marry that Vásavadattá. When he heard this, that king of Vatsa immediately lost his heart to Vásavadattá. CHAPTER XII. In the meanwhile the ambassador, sent by the king of Vatsa in answer to Chandamahásena's embassy, went and told that monarch his master's reply. Chandamahásena for his part, on hearing it, began to reflect--"It is certain that that proud king of Vatsa will not come here. And I cannot send my daughter to his court, such conduct would be unbecoming; so I must capture him by some stratagem and bring him here as a prisoner." Having thus reflected and deliberated with his ministers, the king had made a large artificial elephant like his own, and, after filling it with concealed warriors, he placed it in the Vindhya forest. There the scouts kept in his pay by the king of Vatsa, who was passionately fond of the sport of elephant-catching, discerned it from a distance; [157] and they came with speed and informed the king of Vatsa in these words: "O king, we have seen a single elephant roaming in the Vindhya forest, such that nowhere else in this wide world is his equal to be found, filling the sky with his stature, like a moving peak of the Vindhya range." Then the king rejoiced on hearing this report from the scouts, and he gave them a hundred thousand gold pieces by way of reward. The king spent that night in thinking; "If I obtain that mighty elephant, a fit match for Nadágiri, then that Chandamahásena will certainly be in my power, and then he will of his own accord give me his daughter Vásavadattá." So in the morning he started for the Vindhya forest, making these scouts shew him the way, disregarding, in his ardent desire to capture the elephant, the advice of his ministers. He did not pay any attention to the fact, that the astrologers said, that the position of the heavenly bodies at the moment of his departure portended the acquisition of a maiden together with imprisonment. When the king of Vatsa reached the Vindhya forest, he made his troops halt at a distance through fear of alarming that elephant, and accompanied by the scouts only, holding in his hand his melodious lute, he entered that great forest boundless as his own kingly vice. The king saw on the southern slope of the Vindhya range that elephant looking like a real one, pointed out to him by his scouts from a distance. He slowly approached it, alone, playing on his lute, thinking how he should bind it, and singing in melodious tones. As his mind was fixed on his music, and the shades of evening were setting in, that king did not perceive that the supposed wild elephant was an artificial one. The elephant too for its part, lifting up its ears and flapping them, as if through delight in the music, kept advancing and then retiring, and so drew the king to a great distance. And then, suddenly issuing from that artificial elephant, a body of soldiers in full armour surrounded that king of Vatsa. When he beheld them, the king in a rage drew his hunting knife, but while he was fighting with those in front of him, he was seized by others coming up behind. And those warriors with the help of others, who appeared at a concerted signal, carried that king of Vatsa into the presence of Chandamahásena. Chandamahásena for his part came out to meet him with the utmost respect, and entered with him the city of Ujjayiní. Then the newly arrived king of Vatsa was beheld by the citizens, like the moon, pleasing to the eyes, though spotted with humiliation. Then all the citizens, suspecting that he was to be put to death, through regard for his virtues assembled and determined to commit suicide. [158] Then the king Chandamahásena put a stop to the agitation of the citizens, by informing them that he did not intend to put the monarch of Vatsa to death, but to win him over. So the king made over his daughter Vásavadattá on the spot to the king of Vatsa, to be taught music, and said to him--"Prince, teach this lady music; in this way you will obtain a happy issue to your adventure, do not despond." But when he beheld that fair lady, the mind of the king of Vatsa was so steeped in love that he put out of sight his anger: and her heart and mind turned towards him together; her eye was then averted through modesty, but her mind not at all. So the king of Vatsa dwelt in the concert-room of Chandamahásena's palace, teaching Vásavadattá to sing, with his eyes ever fixed on her. In his lap was his lute, in his throat the quarter-tone of vocal music, and in front of him stood Vásavadattá delighting his heart. And that princess Vásavadattá was devoted in her attentions to him, resembling the goddess of Fortune in that she was firmly attached to him, and did not leave him though he was a captive. In the meanwhile the men who had accompanied the king returned to Kausámbí, and the country, hearing of the captivity of the monarch, was thrown into a state of great excitement. Then the enraged subjects, out of love for the king of Vatsa, wanted to make a general [159] assault on Ujjayiní. But Rumanvat checked the impetuous fury of the subjects by telling them that Chandamahásena was not to be overcome by force, for he was a mighty monarch, and besides that an assault was not advisable, for it might endanger the safety of the king of Vatsa; but their object must be attained by policy. Then the calm and resolute Yaugandharáyana, seeing that the country was loyal, and would not swerve from its allegiance, said to Rumanvat and the others; "All of you must remain here, ever on the alert; you must guard this country, and when a fit occasion comes you must display your prowess; but I will go accompanied by Vasantaka only, and will without fail accomplish by my wisdom the deliverance of the king and bring him home. For he is a truly firm and resolute man whose wisdom shines forth in adversity, as the lightning flash is especially brilliant during pelting rain. I know spells for breaking through walls, and for rending fetters, and receipts for becoming invisible, serviceable at need." Having said this, and entrusted to Rumanvat the care of the subjects, Yaugandharáyana set out from Kausámbí with Vasantaka. And with him he entered the Vindhya forest, full of life [160] like his wisdom, intricate and trackless as his policy. Then he visited the palace of the king of the Pulindas, Pulindaka by name, who dwelt on a peak of the Vindhya range, and was an ally of the king of Vatsa. He first placed him, with a large force at his heels, in readiness to protect the king of Vatsa when he returned that way, and then he went on accompanied by Vasantaka and at last arrived at the burning-ground of Mahákála in Ujjayiní, which was densely tenanted by vampires [161] that smelt of carrion, and hovered hither and thither, black as night, rivalling the smoke-wreaths of the funeral pyres. And there a Bráhman-Rákshasa of the name of Yogesvara immediately came up to him, delighted to see him, and admitted him into his friendship; then Yaugandharáyana by means of a charm, which he taught him, suddenly altered his shape. That charm immediately made him deformed, hunchbacked, and old, and besides gave him the appearance of a madman, so that he produced loud laughter in those who beheld him. And in the same way Yaugandharáyana, by means of that very charm, gave Vasantaka a body full of outstanding veins, with a large stomach, and an ugly mouth with projecting teeth; [162] then he sent Vasantaka on in front to the gate of the king's palace, and entered Ujjayiní with such an appearance as I have described. There he, singing and dancing, surrounded by Bráhman boys, beheld with curiosity by all, made his way to the king's palace. And there he excited by that behaviour the curiosity of the king's wives, and was at last heard of by Vásavadattá. She quickly sent a maid and had him brought to the concert-room. For youth is twin-brother to mirth. And when Yaugandharáyana came there and beheld the king of Vatsa in fetters, though he had assumed the appearance of a madman, he could not help shedding tears. And he made a sign to the king of Vatsa, who quickly recognized him, though he had come in disguise. Then Yaugandharáyana by means of his magic power made himself invisible to Vásavadattá and her maids. So the king alone saw him, and they all said with astonishment, "that maniac has suddenly escaped somewhere or other." Then the king of Vatsa hearing them say that, and seeing Yaugandharáyana in front of him, understood that this was due to magic, and cunningly said to Vásavadattá; "Go my good girl, and bring the requisites for the worship of Sarasvatí." When she heard that, she said, "So I will," and went out with her companions. Then Yaugandharáyana approached the king and communicated to him, according to the prescribed form, spells for breaking chains; and at the same time he furnished him with other charms for winning the heart of Vásavadattá, which were attached to the strings of the lute; and informed him that Vasantaka had come there and was standing outside the door in a changed form, and recommended him to have that Bráhman summoned to him; at the same time he said--"When this lady Vásavadattá shall come to repose confidence in you, then you must do what I tell you, at the present remain quiet." Having said this, Yaugandharáyana quickly went out, and immediately Vásavadattá entered with the requisites for the worship of Sarasvatí. Then the king said to her, "There is a Bráhman standing outside the door, let him be brought in to celebrate this ceremony in honour of Sarasvatí, in order that he may obtain a sacrificial fee." Vásavadattá consented, and had Vasantaka, who wore a deformed shape, summoned from the door into the music-hall. And when he was brought and saw the king of Vatsa, he wept for sorrow, and then the king said to him, in order that the secret might not be discovered, "O Bráhman, I will remove all this deformity of thine produced by sickness; do not weep, remain here near me." And then Vasantaka said--"It is a great condescension on thy part, O king." And the king seeing how he was deformed could not keep his countenance. And when he saw that, Vasantaka guessed what was in the king's mind, and laughed so that the deformity of his distorted face was increased; and thereupon Vásavadattá, beholding him grinning like a doll, burst out laughing also, and was much delighted; then the young lady asked Vasantaka in fun the following question: "Bráhman, what science are you familiar with, tell us?" So he said, "Princess, I am an adept at telling tales." Then she said, "Come, tell me a tale." Then in order to please that princess, Vasantaka told the following tale, which was charming by its comic humour and variety. Story of Rúpiniká. There is in this country a city named Mathurá, the birthplace of Krishna, in it there was a hetæra known by the name of Rúpiniká; she had for a mother an old kuttiní named Makaradanshtrá, who seemed a lump of poison in the eyes of the young men attracted by her daughter's charms. One day Rúpiniká went at the time of worship to the temple to perform her duty, [163] and beheld from a distance a young man. When she saw that handsome young fellow, he made such an impression upon her heart, that all her mother's instructions vanished from it. Then she said to her maid, "Go and tell this man from me, that he is to come to my house to-day." The maid said, "So I will," and immediately went and told him. Then the man thought a little and said to her; "I am a Bráhman named Lohajangha [164]; I have no wealth; then what business have I in the house of Rúpiniká which is only to be entered by the rich." The maid said,--"My mistress does not desire wealth from you,"--whereupon Lohajangha consented to do as she wished. When she heard that from the maid, Rúpiniká went home in a state of excitement, and remained with her eyes fixed on the path by which he would come. And soon Lohajangha came to her house, while the kuttiní Makaradanshtrá looked at him, and wondered where he came from. Rúpiniká, for her part, when she saw him, rose up to meet him herself with the utmost respect, and clinging to his neck in her joy, led him to her own private apartments. Then she was captivated with Lohajangha's wealth of accomplishments, and considered that she had been only born to love him. So she avoided the society of other men, and that young fellow lived with her in her house in great comfort. Rúpiniká's mother, Makaradanshtrá, who had trained up many hetæræ, was annoyed when she saw this, and said to her in private; "My daughter, why do you associate with a poor man? Hetæræ of good taste embrace a corpse in preference to a poor man. What business has a hetæra like you with affection? How have you come to forget that great principle? The light of a red [165] sunset lasts but a short time, and so does the splendour of a hetæra who gives way to affection. A hetæra, like an actress, should exhibit an assumed affection in order to get wealth; so forsake this pauper, do not ruin yourself." When she heard this speech of her mother's, Rúpiniká said in a rage, "Do not talk in this way, for I love him more than my life. And as for wealth, I have plenty, what do I want with more? So you must not speak to me again, mother, in this way." When she heard this, Makaradanshtrá was in a rage, and she remained thinking over some device for getting rid of this Lohajangha. Then she saw coming along the road a certain Rájpút, who had spent all his wealth, surrounded by retainers with swords in their hands. So she went up to him quickly and taking him aside, said--"My house is beset by a certain poor lover. So come there yourself to-day, and take such order with him that he shall depart from my house, and do you possess my daughter." "Agreed," said the Rájpút, and entered that house. At that precise moment Rúpiniká was in the temple, and Lohajangha meanwhile was absent somewhere, and suspecting nothing, he returned to the house a moment afterwards. Immediately the retainers of the Rájpút ran upon him, and gave him severe kicks and blows on all his limbs, and then they threw him into a ditch full of all kinds of impurities, and Lohajangha with difficulty escaped from it. Then Rúpiniká returned to the house, and when she heard what had taken place, she was distracted with grief, so the Rájpút, seeing that, returned as he came. Lohajangha, after suffering this brutal outrage by the machinations of the kuttiní, set out for some holy place of pilgrimage, in order to leave his life there, now that he was separated from his beloved. As he was going along in the wild country, [166] with his heart burning with anger against the kuttiní, and his skin with the heat of the summer, he longed for shade. Not being able to find a tree, he lighted on the body of an elephant, which had been stripped of all its flesh [167] by jackals making their way into it by the hind-quarters; accordingly Lohajangha being worn out crept into this carcase, which was a mere shell, as only the skin remained, and went to sleep in it, as it was kept cool by the breeze which freely entered. Then suddenly clouds arose from all sides, and began to pour down a pelting shower of rain; that rain made the elephant's skin contract so that no aperture was left, and immediately a copious inundation came that way, and carrying off the elephant's hide swept it into the Ganges; so eventually the inundation bore it into the sea. And there a bird of the race of Garuda saw that hide, and supposing it to be carrion, took it to the other side of the sea; there it tore open the elephant's hide with its claws, and, seeing that there was a man inside it, fled away. But Lohajangha was awaked by the bird's pecking and scratching, and came out through the aperture made by its beak. And finding that he was on the other side of the sea, he was astonished, and looked upon the whole thing as a day-dream; then he saw there to his terror two horrible Rákshasas, and those two for their part contemplated him from a distance with feelings of fear. Remembering how they were defeated by Ráma, and seeing that Lohajangha was also a man who had crossed the sea, they were once more alarmed in their hearts. So, after they had deliberated together, one of them went off immediately and told the whole occurrence to king Vibhíshana; king Vibhíshana too, as he had seen the prowess of Ráma, being terrified at the arrival of a man, said to that Rákshasa; "Go, my good friend, and tell that man from me in a friendly manner, that he is to do me the favour of coming to my palace." The Rákshasa said, "I will do so," and timidly approached Lohajangha, and told him that request of his sovereign's. Lohajangha for his part accepted that invitation with unruffled calm, and went to Lanká with that Rákshasa and his companion. And when he arrived in Lanká, he was astonished at beholding numerous splendid edifices of gold, and entering the king's palace, he saw Vibhíshana. The king welcomed the Bráhman who blessed him in return, and then Vibhíshana said, "Bráhman, how did you manage to reach this country?" Then the cunning Lohajangha said to Vibhíshana--"I am a Bráhman of the name of Lohajangha residing in Mathurá; and I, Lohajangha being afflicted at my poverty, went to the temple of the god, and remaining fasting, for a long time performed austerities in the presence of Náráyana. [168] Then the adorable Hari* commanded me in a dream, saying, 'Go thou to Vibhíshana, for he is a faithful worshipper of mine, and he will give thee wealth.' Then, I said, 'Vibhíshana is where I cannot reach him'--but the lord continued, 'To-day shalt thou see that Vibhíshana.' So the lord spake to me, and immediately I woke up and found myself upon this side of the sea. I know no more." When Vibhíshana heard this from Lohajangha, reflecting that Lanká was a difficult place to reach, he thought to himself--"Of a truth this man possesses divine power." And he said to that Bráhman,--"Remain here, I will give you wealth." Then he committed him to the care of the man-slaying Rákshasas as an inviolable deposit; and sent some of his subjects to a mountain in his kingdom called Swarnamúla, and brought from it a young bird belonging to the race of Garuda; and he gave it to that Lohajangha, (who had to take a long journey to Mathurá,) to ride upon, in order that he might in the meanwhile break it in. Lohajangha for his part mounted on its back, and riding about on it in Lanká, rested there for some time, being hospitably entertained by Vibhíshana. One day he asked the king of the Rákshasas, feeling curiosity on the point, why the whole ground of Lanká was made of wood; and Vibhíshana when he heard that, explained the circumstance to him, saying, "Bráhman, if you take any interest in this matter, listen, I will explain it to you. Long ago Garuda the son of Kasyapa, wishing to redeem his mother from her slavery to the snakes, to whom she had been subjected in accordance with an agreement, [169] and preparing to obtain from the gods the nectar which was the price of her ransom, wanted to eat something which would increase his strength, and so he went to his father, who being importuned said to him, "My son, in the sea there is a huge elephant, and a huge tortoise. They have assumed their present forms in consequence of a curse: go and eat them." Then Garuda went and brought them both to eat, and then perched on a bough of the great wishing-tree of paradise. And when that bough suddenly broke with his weight, he held it up with his beak, out of regard to the Bálakhilyas [170] who were engaged in austerities underneath it. Then Garuda, afraid that the bough would crush mankind, if he let it fall at random, by the advice of his father brought the bough to this uninhabited part of the earth, and let it drop. Lanká was built on the top of that bough, therefore the ground here is of wood." When he heard this from Vibhíshana, Lohajangha was perfectly satisfied. Then Vibhíshana gave to Lohajangha many valuable jewels, as he desired to set out for Mathurá. And out of his devotion to the god Vishnu, who dwells at Mathurá, he entrusted to the care of Lohajangha a lotus, a club, a shell, and a discus all of gold, to be offered to the god; Lohajangha took all these, and mounted the bird given to him by Vibhíshana, that could accomplish a hundred thousand yojanas, [171] and rising up into the air in Lanká, he crossed the sea and without any difficulty arrived at Mathurá. And there he descended from the air in an empty convent outside the town, and deposited there his abundant treasure, and tied up that bird. And then he went into the market and sold one of his jewels, and bought garments and scented unguents, and also food. And he ate the food in that convent where he was, and gave some to his bird; and he adorned himself with the garments, unguents, flowers and other decorations. And when night came, he mounted that same bird and went to the house of Rúpiniká, bearing in his hand the shell, discus and mace; then he hovered over it in the air, knowing the place well, and made a low deep sound, to attract the attention of his beloved, who was alone. But Rúpiniká, as soon as she heard that sound, came out, and saw hovering in the air by night a being like Náráyana, gleaming with jewels. He said to her, "I am Hari come hither for thy sake;" whereupon she bowed with her face to the earth and said--"May the god have mercy upon me!" Then Lohajangha descended and tied up his bird, and entered the private apartments of his beloved hand in hand with her. And after remaining there a short time, he came out, and mounting the bird as before, went off through the air. [172] In the morning Rúpiniká remained observing an obstinate silence, thinking to herself--"I am the wife of the god Vishnu, I must cease to converse with mortals." And then her mother Makaradanshtrá said to her,--"Why do you behave in this way, my daughter?" And after she had been perseveringly questioned by her mother, she caused to be put up a curtain between herself and her parent, and told her what had taken place in the night, which was the cause of her silence. When the kuttiní heard that, she felt doubt on the subject, but soon after at night she saw that very Lohajangha mounted on the bird, and in the morning Makaradanshtrá came secretly to Rúpiniká, who still remained behind the curtain, and inclining herself humbly, preferred to her this request; "Through the favour of the god, thou, my daughter, hast obtained here on earth the rank of a goddess, and I am thy mother in this world, therefore grant me a reward for giving thee birth; entreat the god that, old as I am, with this very body I may enter Paradise; do me this favour." Rúpiniká consented and requested that very boon from Lohajangha, who came again at night disguised as Vishnu. Then Lohajangha, who was personating the god, said to that beloved of his--"Thy mother is a wicked woman, it would not be fitting to take her openly to Paradise, but on the morning of the eleventh day the door of heaven is opened, and many of the Ganas, Siva's companions, enter into it before any one else is admitted. Among them I will introduce this mother of thine, if she assume their appearance. So, shave her head with a razor, in such a manner that five locks shall be left, put a necklace of sculls round her neck, and stripping off her clothes, paint one side of her body with lamp-black, and the other with red lead, [173] for when she has in this way been made to resemble a Gana, I shall find it an easy matter to get her into heaven." When he had said this, Lohajangha remained a short time, and then departed. And in the morning Rúpiniká attired her mother as he had directed; and then she remained with her mind entirely fixed on Paradise. So, when night came, Lohajangha appeared again, and Rúpiniká handed over her mother to him. Then he mounted on the bird, and took the kuttiní with him naked, and transformed as he had directed, and he flew up rapidly with her into the air. While he was in the air, he beheld a lofty stone pillar in front of a temple, with a discus on its summit. So he placed her on the top of the pillar, with the discus as her only support, [174] and there she hung like a banner to blazon forth his revenge for his ill-usage. He said to her--"Remain here a moment while I bless the earth with my approach," and vanished from her sight. Then beholding a number of people in front of the temple, who had come there to spend the night in devout vigils before the festive procession, he called aloud from the air--"Hear, ye people, this very day there shall fall upon you here the all-destroying goddess of Pestilence, therefore fly to Hari for protection." When they heard this voice from the air, all the inhabitants of Mathurá who were there, being terrified, implored the protection of the god, and remained devoutly muttering prayers to ward off calamity. Lohajangha, for his part, descended from the air, and encouraged them to pray, and after changing that dress of his, came and stood among the people, without being observed. The kuttiní thought, as she sat upon the top of the pillar,--"the god has not come as yet, and I have not reached heaven." At last feeling it impossible to remain up there any longer, she cried out in her fear, so that the people below heard; "Alas! I am falling, I am falling." Hearing that, the people in front of the god's temple were beside themselves, fearing that the destroying goddess was falling upon them, even as had been foretold, and said, "O goddess, do not fall, do not fall." So those people of Mathurá, young and old, spent that night in perpetual dread that the destroying goddess would fall upon them, but at last it came to an end; and then beholding that kuttiní upon the pillar in the state described, [175] the citizens and the king recognized her at once; all the people thereupon forgot their alarm, and burst out laughing, and Rúpiniká herself at last arrived having heard of the occurrence. And when she saw it, she was abashed, and with the help of the people, who were there, she managed to get that mother of hers down from the top of the pillar immediately: then that kuttiní was asked by all the people there, who were filled with curiosity, to tell them the whole story, and she did so. Thereupon the king, the Bráhmans, and the merchants, thinking that that laughable incident must have been brought about by a sorcerer or some person of that description, made a proclamation, that whoever had made a fool of the kuttiní, who had deceived innumerable lovers, was to shew himself, and he would receive a turban of honour on the spot. When he heard that, Lohajangha made himself known to those present, and being questioned, he related the whole story from its commencement. And he offered to the god the discus, shell, club, and lotus of gold, the present which Vibhíshana had sent, and which aroused the astonishment of the people. Then all the people of Mathurá, being pleased, immediately invested him with a turban of honour, and by the command of the king, made that Rúpiniká a free woman. And then Lohajangha, having wreaked upon the kuttiní his wrath caused by her ill-usage of him, lived in great comfort in Mathurá with that beloved of his, being very well off by means of the large stock of jewels which he brought from Lanká. Hearing this tale from the mouth of the transformed Vasantaka, Vásavadattá who was sitting at the side of the fettered king of Vatsa, felt extreme delight in her heart. CHAPTER XIII. As time went on, Vásavadattá began to feel a great affection for the king of Vatsa, and to take part with him against her father. Then Yaugandharáyana again came in to see the king of Vatsa, making himself invisible to all the others, who were there. And he gave him the following information in private in the presence of Vasantaka only; "King, you were made captive by king Chandamahásena by means of an artifice. And he wishes to give you his daughter, and set you at liberty, treating you with all honour; so let us carry off his daughter and escape. For in this way we shall have revenged ourselves upon the haughty monarch, and we shall not be thought lightly of in the world for want of prowess. Now the king has given that daughter of his, Vásavadattá, a female elephant called Bhadravatí. And no other elephant but Nadágiri is swift enough to catch her up, and he will not fight when he sees her. The driver of this elephant is a man here called Áshádhaka, and him I have won over to our side by giving him much wealth. So you must mount that elephant with Vásavadattá, fully armed, and start from this place secretly by night. And you must have the superintendent of the royal elephants here made drunk with wine, in order that he may not perceive what is about to take place, [176] for he understands every sign that elephants give. I, for my part, will first repair to your ally Pulindaka in order that he may be prepared to guard the road by which you escape." When he had said this, Yaugandharáyana departed. So the king of Vatsa stored up all his instructions in his heart; and soon Vásavadattá came to him. Then he made all kinds of confidential speeches to her, and at last told her what Yaugandharáyana had said to him. She consented to the proposal, and made up her mind to start, and causing the elephant driver Áshádhaka to be summoned, she prepared his mind for the attempt, and on the pretext of worshipping the gods, she gave the superintendent of the elephants, with all the elephant drivers, a supply of spirits, and made them drunk. Then in the evening, which was disturbed with the echoing roar of clouds, [177] Áshádhaka brought that female elephant ready harnessed, but she, while she was being harnessed, uttered a cry, which was heard by the superintendent of the elephants, who was skilled in elephants' language; and he faltered out in a voice indistinct from excessive intoxication,--"the female elephant says, she is going sixty-three yojanas to-day." But his mind in his drunken state was not capable of reasoning, and the elephant-drivers, who were also intoxicated, did not even hear what he said. Then the king of Vatsa broke his chains by means of the charms, which Yaugandharáyana had given him, and took that lute of his, and Vásavadattá of her own accord brought him his weapons, and then he mounted the female elephant with Vasantaka. And then Vásavadattá mounted the same elephant with her friend and confidante Kánchanamálá; then the king of Vatsa went out from Ujjayiní with five persons in all, including himself and the elephant-driver, by a path which the infuriated elephant clove through the rampart. And the king attacked and slew the two warriors who guarded that point, the Rájpúts Vírabáhu and Tálabhata. Then the monarch set out rapidly on his journey in high spirits, mounted on the female elephant, together with his beloved, Áshádhaka holding the elephant-hook; in the meanwhile in Ujjayiní the city-patrol beheld those guards of the rampart lying dead, and in consternation reported the news to the king at night. Chandamahásena enquired into the matter, and found out at last that the king of Vatsa had escaped, taking Vásavadattá with him. Then the alarm spread through the city, and one of his sons named Pálaka mounted Nadágiri and pursued the king of Vatsa. The king of Vatsa for his part, combated him with arrows as he advanced, and Nadágiri, seeing that female elephant, would not attack her. Then Pálaka, who was ready to listen to reason, was induced to desist from the pursuit by his brother Gopálaka, who had his father's interests at heart; then the king of Vatsa boldly continued his journey, and as he journeyed, the night gradually came to an end. So by the middle of the day the king had reached the Vindhya forest, and his elephant having journeyed sixty-three yojanas, was thirsty. So the king and his wife dismounted, and the female elephant having drunk water, owing to its being bad, fell dead on the spot. Then the king of Vatsa and Vásavadattá, in their despair, heard this voice coming from the air--"I, O king, am a female Vidyádhara named Máyávatí, and for this long time I have been a female elephant in consequence of a curse; and to-day, O lord of Vatsa, I have done you a good turn, and I will do another to your son that is to be: and this queen of yours Vásavadattá is not a mere mortal; she is a goddess for a certain cause incarnate on the earth." Then the king regained his spirits, and sent on Vasantaka to the plateau of the Vindhya hills to announce his arrival to his ally Pulindaka; and as he was himself journeying along slowly on foot with his beloved, he was surrounded by brigands, who sprang out from an ambuscade. And the king, with only his bow to help him, slew one hundred and five of them before the eyes of Vásavadattá. And immediately the king's ally Pulindaka came up, together with Yaugandharáyana, Vasantaka shewing them the way. The king of the Bheels ordered the surviving brigands [178] to desist, and after prostrating himself before the king of Vatsa, conducted him with his beloved to his own village. The king rested there that night with Vásavadattá, whose foot had been cut with a blade of forest grass, and early in the morning the general Rumanvat reached him, who had before been summoned by Yaugandharáyana, who sent a messenger to him. And the whole army came with him, filling the land as far as the eye could reach, so that the Vindhya forest appeared to be besieged. So that king of Vatsa entered into the encampment of his army, and remained in that wild region to wait for news from Ujjayiní. And, while he was there, a merchant came from Ujjayiní, a friend of Yaugandharáyana's, and when he had arrived reported these tidings, "The king Chandamahásena is pleased to have thee for a son-in-law, and he has sent his warder to thee. The warder is on the way, but he has stopped short of this place, however, I came secretly on in front of him, as fast as I could, to bring your Highness information." When he heard this, the king of Vatsa rejoiced, and told it all to Vásavadattá, and she was exceedingly delighted. Then Vásavadattá, having abandoned her own relations, and being anxious for the ceremony of marriage, was at the same time bashful and impatient: then she said, in order to divert her thoughts, to Vasantaka who was in attendance--"Tell me some story." Then the sagacious Vasantaka told that fair-eyed one the following tale in order to increase her affection for her husband. Story of Devasmitá. There is a city in the world famous under the name of Támraliptá, and in that city there was a very rich merchant named Dhanadatta. And he, being childless, assembled many Bráhmans and said to them with due respect; "Take such steps as will procure me a son soon." Then those Bráhmans said to him: "This is not at all difficult, for Bráhmans can accomplish all things in this world by means of ceremonies in accordance with the scriptures. To give you an instance there was in old time a king who had no sons, and he had a hundred and five wives in his harem. And by means of a sacrifice to procure a son, there was born to him a son named Jantu, who was like the rising of the new moon to the eyes of his wives. Once on a time an ant bit the boy on the thigh as he was crawling about on his knees, so that he was very unhappy and sobbed loudly. Thereupon the whole harem was full of confused lamentation, and the king himself shrieked out 'My son! my son!' like a common man. The boy was soon comforted, the ant having been removed, and the king blamed the misfortune of his only having one son as the cause of all his grief. And he asked the Bráhmans in his affliction if there was any expedient by which he might obtain a large number of children. They answered him,--'O king, there is one expedient open to you; you must slay this son and offer up all his flesh in the fire. By smelling the smell of that sacrifice all thy wives will obtain sons.' When he heard that, the king had the whole ceremony performed as they directed; and he obtained as many sons as he had wives. So we can obtain a son for you also by a burnt-offering." When they had said this to Dhanadatta, the Bráhmans, after a sacrificial fee had been promised them, performed a sacrifice: then a son was born to that merchant. That son was called Guhasena, and he gradually grew up to man's estate. Then his father Dhanadatta began to look out for a wife for him. Then his father went with that son of his to another country, on the pretence of traffic, but really to get a daughter-in-law, there he asked an excellent merchant of the name of Dharmagupta to give him his daughter named Devasmitá for his son Guhasena. But Dharmagupta, who was tenderly attached to his daughter, did not approve of that connexion, reflecting that the city of Támraliptá was very far off. But when Devasmitá beheld that Guhasena, her mind was immediately attracted by his virtues, and she was set on abandoning her relations, and so she made an assignation with him by means of a confidante, and went away from that country at night with her beloved and his father. When they reached Támraliptá they were married, and the minds of the young couple were firmly knit together by the bond of mutual love. Then Guhasena's father died, and he himself was urged by his relations to go to the country of Katáha [179] for the purpose of trafficking; but his wife Devasmitá was too jealous to approve of that expedition, fearing exceedingly that he would be attracted by some other lady. Then, as his wife did not approve of it, and his relations kept inciting him to it, Guhasena, whose mind was firmly set on doing his duty, was bewildered. Then he went and performed a vow in the temple of the god, observing a rigid fast, trusting that the god would shew him some way out of his difficulty. And his wife Devasmitá also performed a vow with him; then Siva was pleased to appear to that couple in a dream; and giving them two red lotuses the god said to them,--"take each, of you one of these lotuses in your hand. And if either of you shall be unfaithful during your separation, the lotus in the hand of the other shall fade, but not otherwise [180]." After hearing this, the two woke up, and each beheld in the hand of the other a red lotus, and it seemed as if they had got one another's hearts. Then Guhasena set out, lotus in hand, but Devasmitá remained in the house with her eyes fixed upon her flower. Guhasena for his part quickly reached the country of Katáha, and began to buy and sell jewels there. And four young merchants in that country, seeing that that unfading lotus was ever in his hand, were greatly astonished. Accordingly they got him to their house by an artifice, and made him drink a great deal of wine, and then asked him the history of the lotus, and he being intoxicated told them the whole story. Then those four young merchants, knowing that Guhasena would take a long time to complete his sales and purchases of jewels and other wares, planned together, like rascals as they were, the seduction of his wife out of curiosity, and eager to accomplish it set out quickly for Támraliptá without their departure being noticed. There they cast about for some instrument, and at last had recourse to a female ascetic of the name of Yogakarandiká, who lived in a sanctuary of Buddha; and they said to her in an affectionate manner, "Reverend madam, if our object is accomplished by your help, we will give you much wealth." She answered them; "No doubt, you young men desire some woman in this city, so tell me all about it, I will procure you the object of your desire, but I have no wish for money; I have a pupil of distinguished ability named Siddhikarí; owing to her kindness I have obtained untold wealth." The young merchants asked--"How have you obtained untold wealth by the assistance of a pupil?" Being asked this question, the female ascetic said,--"If you feel any curiosity about the matter, listen, my sons, I will tell you the whole story." Story of the cunning Siddhikarí. Long ago a certain merchant came here from the north; while he was dwelling here, my pupil went and obtained, with a treacherous object, the position of a serving-maid in his house, having first altered her appearance, and after she had gained the confidence of that merchant, she stole all his hoard of gold from his house, and went off secretly in the morning twilight. And as she went out from the city moving rapidly through fear, a certain Domba [181] with his drum in his hand, saw her, and pursued her at full speed with the intention of robbing her. When she had reached the foot of a Nyagrodha tree, she saw that he had come up with her, and so the cunning Siddhikarí said this to him in a plaintive manner, "I have had a jealous quarrel with my husband, and I have left his house to die, therefore my good man, make a noose for me to hang myself with." Then the Domba thought, "Let her hang herself, why should I be guilty of her death, especially as she is a woman," and so he fastened a noose for her to the tree. Then Siddhikarí, feigning ignorance, said to the Domba, "How is the noose slipped round the neck? shew me, I entreat you." Then the Domba placed the drum under his feet, and saying,--"This is the way we do the trick"--he fastened the noose round his own throat; Siddhikarí for her part smashed the drum to atoms with a kick, and that Domba hung till he was dead. [182] At that moment the merchant arrived in search of her, and beheld from a distance Siddhikarí, who had stolen from him untold treasures, at the foot of the tree. She too saw him coming, and climbed up the tree without being noticed, and remained there on a bough, having her body concealed by the dense foliage. When the merchant came up with his servants, he saw the Domba hanging by his neck, but Siddhikarí was nowhere to be seen. Immediately one of his servants said "I wonder whether she has got up this tree," and proceeded to ascend it himself. Then Siddhikarí said--"I have always loved you, and now you have climbed up where I am, so all this wealth is at your disposal, handsome man, come and embrace me." So she embraced the merchant's servant, and as she was kissing his mouth, she bit off the fool's tongue. He, overcome with the pain, fell from that tree, spitting blood from his mouth, uttering some indistinct syllables, which sounded like Lalalla. When he saw that, the merchant was terrified, and supposing that his servant had been seized by a demon, he fled from that place, and went to his own house with his attendants. Then Siddhikarí the female ascetic, equally frightened, descended from the top of the tree, and brought home with her all that wealth. Such a person is my pupil, distinguished for her great discernment, and it is in this way, my sons, that I have obtained wealth by her kindness. When she had said this to the young merchants, the female ascetic shewed to them her pupil who happened to come in at that moment; and said to them, "Now, my sons, tell me the real state of affairs--what woman do you desire? I will quickly procure her for you." When they heard that they said, "procure us an interview with the wife of the merchant Guhasena named Devasmitá." When she heard that, the ascetic undertook to manage that business for them, and she gave those young merchants her own house to reside in. Then she gratified the servants at Guhasena's house with gifts of sweetmeats and other things, and afterwards entered it with her pupil. Then, as she approached the private rooms of Devasmitá, a bitch, that was fastened there with a chain, would not let her come near, but opposed her entrance in the most determined way. Then Devasmitá seeing her, of her own accord sent a maid, and had her brought in, thinking to herself, "What can this person be come for?" After she had entered, the wicked ascetic gave Devasmitá her blessing, and, treating the virtuous woman with affected respect, said to her--"I have always had a desire to see you, but to-day I saw you in a dream, therefore I have come to visit you with impatient eagerness; and my mind is afflicted at beholding you separated from your husband, for beauty and youth are wasted when one is deprived of the society of one's beloved." With this and many other speeches of the same kind she tried to gain the confidence of the virtuous woman in a short interview, and then taking leave of her she returned to her own house. On the second day she took with her a piece of meat full of pepper dust, and went again to the house of Devasmitá, and there she gave that piece of meat to the bitch at the door, and the bitch gobbled it up, pepper and all. Then owing to the pepper dust, the tears flowed in profusion from the animal's eyes, and her nose began to run. And the cunning ascetic immediately went into the apartment of Devasmitá, who received her hospitably, and began to cry. When Devasmitá asked her why she shed tears, she said with affected reluctance: "My friend, look at this bitch weeping outside here. This creature recognized me to-day as having been its companion in a former birth, and began to weep; for that reason my tears gushed through pity." When she heard that, and saw that bitch outside apparently weeping, Devasmitá thought for a moment to herself, "What can be the meaning of this wonderful sight?" Then the ascetic said to her, "My daughter, in a former birth, I and that bitch were the two wives of a certain Bráhman. And our husband frequently went about to other countries on embassies by order of the king. Now while he was away from home, I lived with other men at my pleasure, and so did not cheat the elements, of which I was composed, and my senses, of their lawful enjoyment. For considerate treatment of the elements and senses is held to be the highest duty. Therefore I have been born in this birth with a recollection of my former existence. But she, in her former life, through ignorance, confined all her attention to the preservation of her character, therefore she has been degraded and born again as one of the canine race, however, she too remembers her former birth." The wise Devasmitá said to herself, "This is a novel conception of duty; no doubt this woman has laid a treacherous snare for me"; and so she said to her, "Reverend lady, for this long time I have been ignorant of this duty, so procure me an interview with some charming man."--Then the ascetic said--"There are residing here some young merchants that have come from another country, so I will bring them to you." When she had said this, the ascetic returned home delighted, and Devasmitá of her own accord said to her maids: "No doubt those scoundrelly young merchants, whoever they may be, have seen that unfading lotus in the hand of my husband, and have on some occasion or other, when he was drinking wine, asked him out of curiosity to tell the whole story of it, and have now come here from that island to seduce me, and this wicked ascetic is employed by them. So bring quickly some wine mixed with Datura, [183] and when you have brought it, have a dog's foot of iron made as quickly as possible." When Devasmitá had given these orders, the maids executed them faithfully, and one of the maids, by her orders, dressed herself up to resemble her mistress. The ascetic for her part chose out of the party of four merchants, (each of whom in his eagerness said--"let me go first"--) one individual, and brought him with her. And concealing him in the dress of her pupil, she introduced him in the evening into the house of Devasmitá, and coming out, disappeared. Then that maid, who was disguised as Devasmitá, courteously persuaded the young merchant to drink some of that wine drugged with Datura. That liquor, [184] like his own immodesty, robbed him of his senses, and then the maids took away his clothes and other equipments and left him stark naked; then they branded him on the forehead with the mark of a dog's foot, and during the night took him and pushed him into a ditch full of filth. Then he recovered consciousness in the last watch of the night, and found himself plunged in a ditch, as it were the hell Avíchi assigned to him by his sins. Then he got up and washed himself and went to the house of the female ascetic, in a state of nature, feeling with his fingers the mark on his forehead. And when he got there, he told his friends that he had been robbed on the way, in order that he might not be the only person made ridiculous. And the next morning he sat with a cloth wrapped round his branded forehead, giving as an excuse that he had a headache from keeping awake so long, and drinking too much. In the same way the next young merchant was maltreated, when he got to the house of Devasmitá, and when he returned home naked, he said, "I put on my ornaments there, and as I was coming out I was plundered by robbers." In the morning he also, on the plea of a headache, put a wrapper on to cover his branded forehead. In the same way all the four young merchants suffered in turns branding and other humiliating treatment, though they concealed the fact. And they went away from the place, without revealing to the female Buddhist ascetic the ill-treatment they had experienced, hoping that she would suffer in a similar way. On the next day the ascetic went with her disciple to the house of Devasmitá, much delighted at having accomplished what she undertook to do. Then Devasmitá received her courteously, and made her drink wine drugged with Datura, offered as a sign of gratitude. When she and her disciple were intoxicated with it, that chaste wife cut off their ears and noses, and flung them also into a filthy pool. And being distressed by the thought that perhaps these young merchants might go and slay her husband, she told the whole circumstance to her mother-in-law. Then her mother-in-law said to her,--"My daughter, you have acted nobly, but possibly some misfortune may happen to my son in consequence of what you have done." Then Devasmitá said--I will deliver him even as Saktimatí in old time delivered her husband by her wisdom. Her mother-in-law asked; "How did Saktimatí deliver her husband? tell me, my daughter." Then Devasmitá related the following story: Story of Saktimatí. In our country, within the city, there is the shrine of a powerful Yaksha named Manibhadra, established by our ancestors. The people there come and make petitions at this shrine, offering various gifts, in order to obtain various blessings. Whenever a man is found at night with another man's wife, he is placed with her within the inner chamber of the Yaksha's temple. And in the morning he is taken away from thence with the woman to the king's court, and his behaviour being made known, he is punished; such is the custom. Once on a time in that city a merchant, of the name of Samudradatta, was found by a city-guard in the company of another man's wife. So he took him and placed him with the woman in that temple of the Yaksha, fastening the door firmly. And immediately the wise and devoted wife of that merchant, whose name was Saktimatí, came to hear of the occurrence; then that resolute woman, disguising herself, went confidently at night to the temple of the Yaksha, accompanied by her friends, taking with her offerings for the god. When she arrived there, the priest whose business it was to eat the offerings, through desire for a fee, opened the door and let her enter, informing the magistrate of what he had done. And she, when she got inside, saw her husband looking sheepish, with a woman, and she made the woman put on her own dress, and told her to go out. So that woman went out in her dress by night, and got off, but Saktimatí remained in the temple with her husband. And when the king's officers came in the morning to examine the merchant, he was seen by all to be in the company of his own wife. [185] When he heard that, the king dismissed the merchant from the temple of the Yaksha, as it were from the mouth of death, and punished the chief magistrate. So Saktimatí in old time delivered her husband by her wisdom, and in the same way I will go and save my husband by my discretion. So the wise Devasmitá said in secret to her mother-in-law, and, in company with her maids, she put on the dress of a merchant. Then she embarked on a ship, on the pretence of a mercantile expedition, and came to the country of Katáha where her husband was. And when she arrived there, she saw that husband of hers, Guhasena, in the midst of a circle of merchants, like consolation in external bodily form. He seeing her afar off in the dress of a man, [186] as it were, drank her in with his eyes, and thought to himself, "Who may this merchant be that looks so like my beloved wife"? So Devasmitá went and represented to the king that she had a petition to make, and asked him to assemble all his subjects. Then the king full of curiosity assembled all the citizens, and said to that lady disguised as a merchant, "What is your petition?" Then Devasmitá said--There are residing here in your midst four slaves of mine who have escaped, let the king make them over to me. Then the king said to her, "All the citizens are present here, so look at every one in order to recognise him, and take those slaves of yours." Then she seized upon the four young merchants, whom she had before treated in such a humiliating way in her house, and who had wrappers bound round their heads. Then the merchants, who were there, flew in a passion, and said to her, "These are the sons of distinguished merchants, how then can they be your slaves?" Then she answered them, "If you do not believe what I say, examine their foreheads which I marked with a dog's foot." They consented, and removing the head-wrappers of these four, they all beheld the dog's foot on their foreheads. Then all the merchants were abashed, and the king, being astonished, himself asked Devasmitá what all this meant. She told the whole story, and all the people burst out laughing, and the king said to the lady,--"They are your slaves by the best of titles." Then the other merchants paid a large sum of money to that chaste wife, to redeem those four from slavery, and a fine to the king's treasury. Devasmitá received that money, and recovered her husband, and being honoured by all good men, returned then to her own city Támraliptá, and she was never afterwards separated from her beloved. "Thus, O queen, women of good family ever worship their husbands with chaste and resolute behaviour, [187] and never think of any other man, for to virtuous wives the husband is the highest deity." When Vásavadattá on the journey heard this noble story from the mouth of Vasantaka, she got over the feeling of shame at having recently left her father's house, and her mind, which was previously attached by strong affection to her husband, became so fixed upon him as to be entirely devoted to his service. NOTE ON CHAPTER XIII. With regard to the incident of the bitch and the pepper in the story of Devasmitá see the note in the 1st volume of Wilson's Essays on Sanskrit Literature. He says: "This incident with a very different and much less moral dénouement is one of the stories in the Disciplina Clericalis, a collection of stories professedly derived from the Arabian fabulists and compiled by Petrus Alfonsus a converted Jew, who flourished about 1106 and was godson to Alfonso I, king of Arragon. In the Analysis prepared by Mr. Douce, this story is the 12th, and is entitled "Stratagem of an old woman in favour of a young gallant." She persuades his mistress who had rejected his addresses that her little dog was formerly a woman, and so transformed in consequence of her cruelty to her lover. (Ellis's Metrical Romances, I, 130.) This story was introduced into Europe, therefore, much about the time at which it was enrolled among the contents of the Vrihat Kathá in Cashmir. The metempsychosis is so much more obvious an explanation of the change of forms, that it renders it probable the story was originally Hindu. It was soon copied in Europe, and occurs in Le Grand as La vieille qui séduisit la jeune fille. III. 148 [ed. III. Vol. IV. 50]. The parallel is very close and the old woman gives "une chienne à manger des choses fortement saupoudrèes de senève qui lai picotait le palais et les narines et l'animal larmoyait beaucoup." She then shows her to the young woman and tells her the bitch was her daughter. "Son malheur fut d'avoir le coeur dur; un jeune homme l'aimait, elle le rebuta. Le malheureux après avoir tout tenté pour l' attendrir, désespéré de sa dureté en prit tant de chagrin qu'il tomba malade et mourut. Dieu l'a bien vengè; voyez en quel état pour la punir il a reduit ma pauvre fille, et comment elle pleure sa faute." The lesson was not thrown away. The story occurs also in the Gesta Romanorum as "The Old Woman and her Dog" [in Bohn's edition it is Tale XXVIII], and it also finds a place where we should little have expected to find it, in the Promptuarium of John Herolt of Basil, an ample repository of examples for composing sermons: the compiler a Dominican friar, professing to imitate his patron saint, who always abundabat exemplis in his discourses." [In Bohn's edition we are told that it appears in an English garb amongst a translation of Æsop's Fables published in 1658.] Dr. Rost refers us to Th. Wright, Latin Stories, London, 1842, p. 218. Loiseleur Deslongchamps Essai sur les Fables Indiennes, Paris, 1838, p. 106 ff. F. H. Von der Hagen, Gesammtabenteuer, 1850 I, cxii. ff and Grässe, I. 1, 374 ff. In Gonzenbach'a Sicilianische Märchen, No. 55, Vol. I, p. 359, Epomata plays some young men much the same trick as Devasmitá, and they try in much the same way to conceal their disgrace. The story is the second in my copy of the Suka Saptati. CHAPTER XIV. Accordingly while the king of Vatsa was remaining in that Vindhya forest, the warder of king Chandamahásena came to him. And when he arrived, he did obeisance to the king and spoke as follows: The king Chandamahásena sends you this message. You did rightly in carrying off Vásavadattá yourself, for I had brought you to my court with this very object; and the reason I did not myself give her to you, while you were a prisoner, was, that I feared, if I did so, you might not be well disposed towards me. Now, O king, I ask you to wait a little, in order that the marriage of my daughter may not be performed without due ceremonies. For my son Gopálaka will soon arrive in your court, and he will celebrate with appropriate ceremonies the marriage of that sister of his. This message the warder brought to the king of Vatsa, and said various things to Vásavadattá. Then the king of Vatsa, being pleased, determined on going to Kausámbí with Vásavadattá, who was also in high spirits. He told his ally Pulindaka, and that warder in the service of his father-in-law to await, where they were, the arrival of Gopálaka, and then to come with him to Kausámbí. Then the great king set out early the next day for his own city with the queen Vásavadattá, followed by huge elephants raining streams of ichor, that seemed like moving peaks of the Vindhya range accompanying him out of affection; he was, as it were, praised by the earth, that outdid the compositions of his minstrels, while it rang with the hoofs of his horses and the tramplings of his soldiers; and by means of the towering clouds of dust from his army, that ascended to heaven, he made Indra fear that the mountains were sporting with unshorn wings. [188] Then the king reached his country in two or three days, and rested one night in a palace belonging to Rumanvat; and on the next day, accompanied by his beloved, he enjoyed after a long absence the great delight of entering Kausámbí, the people of which were eagerly looking with uplifted faces for his approach. And then that city was resplendent as a wife, her lord having returned after a long absence, beginning her adornment and auspicious bathing vicariously by means of her women; and there the citizens, their sorrow now at an end, beheld the king of Vatsa accompanied by his bride, as peacocks behold a cloud accompanied by lightning; [189] and the wives of the citizens standing on the tops of the palaces, filled the heaven with their faces, that had the appearance of golden lotuses blooming in the heavenly Ganges. Then the king of Vatsa entered his royal palace with Vásavadattá, who seemed like a second goddess of royal fortune; and that palace then shone as if it had just awaked from sleep, full of kings who had come to shew their devotion, festive with songs of minstrels. [190] Not long after came Gopálaka the brother of Vásavadattá, bringing with him the warder and Pulindaka; the king went to meet him, and Vásavadattá received him with her eyes expanded with delight, as if he were a second spirit of joy. While she was looking at this brother, a tear dimmed her eyes lest she should be ashamed; and then she, being encouraged by him with the words of her father's message, considered that her object in life was attained, now that she was reunited to her own relations. Then, on the next day, Gopálaka, with the utmost eagerness, set about the high festival of her marriage with the king of Vatsa, carefully observing all prescribed ceremonies. Then the king of Vatsa received the hand of Vásavadattá, like a beautiful shoot lately budded on the creeper of love. She too, with her eyes closed through the great joy of touching her beloved's hand, having her limbs bathed in perspiration accompanied with trembling, covered all over with extreme horripilation, appeared at that moment as if struck by the god of the flowery bow with the arrow of bewilderment, the weapon of wind, and the water weapon in quick succession; [191] when she walked round the fire keeping it to the right, her eyes being red with the smoke, she had her first taste, so to speak, of the sweetness of wine and honey. [192] Then by means of the jewels brought by Gopálaka, and the gifts of the kings, the monarch of Vatsa became a real king of kings. [193] That bride and bridegroom, after their marriage had been celebrated, first exhibited themselves to the eyes of the people, and then entered their private apartments. Then the king of Vatsa, on the day so auspicious to himself invested Gopálaka and Pulindaka with turbans of honour and other distinctions, and he commissioned Yaugandharáyana and Rumanvat to confer appropriate distinctions on the kings who had come to visit him, and on the citizens. Then Yaugandharáyana said to Rumanvat; "The king has given us a difficult commission, for men's feelings are hard to discover. And even a child will certainly do mischief if not pleased; to illustrate this point listen to the tale of the child Vinashtaka, my friend." Story of the clever deformed child. Once on a time there was a certain Bráhman named Rudrasarman, and he, when he became a householder, had two wives, and one of his wives gave birth to a son and died; and then the Bráhman entrusted that son to the care of his step-mother; and when he grew to a tolerable stature, she gave him coarse food; the consequence was, the boy became pale, and got a swollen stomach. Then Rudrasarman said to that second wife, "How comes it that you have neglected this child of mine that has lost its mother?" She said to her husband, "Though I take affectionate care of him, he is nevertheless the strange object you see; what am I to do with him?" Whereupon the Bráhman thought, "No doubt it is the child's nature to be like this." For who sees through the deceitfulness of the speeches of women uttered with affected simplicity? Then that child began to go by the name of Bálavinashtaka [194] in his father's house, because they said this child (bála) is deformed (vinashta.) Then Bálavinashtaka thought to himself--"This step-mother of mine is always ill-treating me, therefore I had better be revenged on her in some way"--for though the boy was only a little more than five years old, he was clever enough. Then he said secretly to his father when he returned from the king's court, with half suppressed voice--"Papa, I have two Papas." So the boy said every day, and his father suspecting that his wife had a paramour, would not even touch her. She for her part thought--"Why is my husband angry without my being guilty; I wonder whether Bálavinashtaka has been at any tricks?" So she washed Bálavinashtaka with careful kindness, and gave him dainty food, and taking him on her lap, asked him the following question: "My son why have you incensed your father Rudrasarman against me?" When he heard that, the boy said to his step-mother, "I will do more harm to you than that, if you do not immediately cease ill-treating me. You take good care of your own children; why do you perpetually torment me?" When she heard that, she bowed before him, and said with a solemn oath, "I will not do so any more; so reconcile my husband to me." Then the child said to her--"Well, when my father comes home, let one of your maids shew him a mirror, and leave the rest to me." She said, "Very well," and by her orders a maid shewed a mirror to her husband as soon as he returned home. Thereupon the child pointing out the reflection of his father in the mirror, said, "There is my second father." When he heard that, Rudrasarman dismissed his suspicions and was immediately reconciled to his wife, whom he had blamed without cause. "Thus even a child may do mischief if it is annoyed, and therefore we must carefully conciliate all this retinue." Saying this, Yaugandharáyana with the help of Rumanvat, carefully honoured all the people on this the king of Vatsa's great day of rejoicing. [195] And they gratified all the kings so successfully that each one of them thought, "These two men are devoted to me alone." And the king honoured those two ministers and Vasantaka with garments, unguents, and ornaments bestowed with his own hand, and he also gave them grants of villages. Then the king of Vatsa, having celebrated the great festival of his marriage, considered all his wishes gratified, now that he was linked to Vásavadattá. Their mutual love, having blossomed after a long time of expectation, was so great, owing to the strength of their passion, that their hearts continually resembled those of the sorrowing Chakravákas, when the night, during which they are separated, comes to an end. And as the familiarity of the couple increased, their love seemed to be ever renewed. Then Gopálaka, being ordered by his father to return to get married himself, went away, after having been entreated by the king of Vatsa to return quickly. In course of time the king of Vatsa became faithless, and secretly loved an attendant of the harem named Virachitá, with whom he had previously had an intrigue. One day he made a mistake and addressed the queen by her name, thereupon he had to conciliate her by clinging to her feet, and bathed in her tears he was anointed [196] a fortunate king. Moreover he married a princess of the name of Bandhumatí, whom Gopálaka had captured by the might of his arm, and sent as a present to the queen; and whom she concealed, changing her name to Manjuliká; who seemed like another Lakshmí issuing from the sea of beauty. Her the king saw, when he was in the company of Vasantaka, and secretly married her by the Gándharva ceremony in a summer-house. And that proceeding of his was beheld by Vásavadattá, who was in concealment, and she was angry, and had Vasantaka put in fetters. Then the king had recourse to the good offices of a female ascetic, a friend of the queen's, who had come with her from her father's court, of the name of Sánkrityánaní. She appeased the queen's anger, and got Bandhumatí presented to the king by the obedient queen, for tender is the heart of virtuous wives. Then the queen released Vasantaka from imprisonment; he came into the presence of the queen and said to her with a laugh, "Bandhumatí did you an injury, but what did I do to you? You are angry with adders [197] and you kill water-snakes." Then the queen, out of curiosity, asked him to explain that metaphor, and he continued as follows: Story of Ruru. Once on a time a hermit's son of the name of Ruru, wandering about at will, saw a maiden of wonderful beauty, the daughter of a heavenly nymph named Menaká by a Vidyádhara, and brought up by a hermit of the name of Sthúlakesa in his hermitage. That lady, whose name was Prishadvará, so captivated the mind of that Ruru when he saw her, that he went and begged the hermit to give her to him in marriage. Sthúlakesa for his part betrothed the maiden to him, and when the wedding was nigh at hand, suddenly an adder bit her. Then the heart of Ruru was full of despair, but he heard this voice in the heaven--"O Bráhman raise to life with the gift of half thy own life, [198] this maiden, whose allotted term is at an end." When he heard that, Ruru gave her the half of his own life, as he had been directed; by means of that she revived, and Ruru married her. Thenceforward he was incensed with the whole race of serpents, and whenever he saw a serpent he killed it, thinking to himself as he killed each one--"This may have bitten my wife." One day a water snake said to him with human voice, as he was about to slay it, "You are incensed against adders, Bráhman, but why do you slay water-snakes? An adder bit your wife, and adders are a distinct species from water-snakes; all adders are venomous, water-snakes are not venomous." When he heard that, he said in answer to the water-snake,--"My friend, who are you?" The water-snake said, "Bráhman, I am a hermit fallen from my high estate by a curse, and this curse was appointed to last till I held converse with you." When he had said this he disappeared, and after that Ruru did not kill water-snakes. So I said this to you metaphorically, "My queen, you are angry with adders and you kill water-snakes." When he had uttered this speech, full of pleasing wit, Vasantaka ceased, and Vásavadattá sitting at the side of her husband was pleased with him. Such soft and sweet tales in which Vasantaka displayed various ingenuity, did the loving Udayana, king of Vatsa, continually make use of to conciliate his angry wife, while he sat at her feet. That happy king's tongue was ever exclusively employed in tasting the flavour of wine, and his ear was ever delighting in the sweet sounds of the lute, and his eye was ever riveted on the face of his beloved. NOTE TO CHAPTER XIV. The practice of walking round an object of reverence with the right hand towards it, which is one of the ceremonies mentioned in our author's account of Vásavadattá's marriage, has been exhaustively discussed by Dr. Samuel Fergusson in his paper--"On the Ceremonial turn called Desiul," published in the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy for March 1877. (Vol. I. Ser. II. No. 12.) He shews it to have existed among the ancient Romans as well as the Celts. One of the most striking of his quotations is from the Curculio of Plautus (I. 1. 69.) Phædromus says--Quo me vortam nescio. Palinurus jestingly replies--Si deos salutas dextrovorsum censeo. Cp. also the following passage of Valerius Flaceus (Argon VIII. 243). Inde ubi sacrificas cum conjuge venit ad aras Æsonides, unaque adeunt pariterque precari Incipiunt. Ignem Pollux undamque jugalem Prætulit ut dextrum pariter vertantur in orbem. The above passage forms a striking comment upon our text. Cp. also Plutarch in this life of Camillus Tauta eipôn, kathaper esti Rômaiois ethos, epeuxamenois kai proskynêsasin, epi dexia exelittein, esphalê peristrephomenos. It is possible that the following passage in Lucretius alludes to the same practice-- Nec pietas ulla est velatum sæpe videri Vertier ad lapidem atque omnes accedere ad aras. Dr. Fergusson is of opinion that this movement was a symbol of the cosmical rotation, an imitation of the apparent course of the sun in the heavens. Cp. Hyginus Fable CCV. Arge venatrix, cum cervum sequeretur, cervo dixisse fertur: Tu licet Solis cursum sequaris, tamen te consequar. Sol, iratus, in cervam eam convertit. He quotes, to prove that the practice existed among the ancient Celts, Athenæus IV, p. 142, who adduces from Posidonius the following statement "Tous theous proskynousin epi dexia strephomenoi." The above quotations are but a few scraps from the full feast of Dr. Fergusson's paper. See also the remarks of the Rev. S. Beal in the Indian Antiquary for March 1880, p. 67. See also Henderson's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties, p. 45. "The vicar of Stranton was standing at the churchyard gate, awaiting the arrival of a funeral party, when to his astonishment the whole group, who had arrived within a few yards of him, suddenly wheeled and made the circuit of the churchyard wall, thus traversing its west, north, and east boundaries, and making the distance some five or six times greater than was necessary. The vicar, astonished at this proceeding, asked the sexton the reason of so extraordinary a movement. The reply was as follows: 'Why, ye wad no hae them carry the dead again the sun; the dead maun aye go with the sun.' This custom is no doubt an ancient British or Celtic custom, and corresponds to the Highland usage of making the deazil or walking three times round a person according to the course of the sun. Old Highlanders will still make the deazil around those to whom they wish well. To go round the person in the opposite direction, or "withershins," is an evil incantation and brings ill-fortune. Hunt in his Romances and Drolls of the West of England, p. 418, says, "If an invalid goes out for the first time, and makes a circuit, the circuit must be with the sun, if against the sun, there will be a relapse. Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 322, quotes from the Statistical Account of Scotland, Vol. V. p. 88 the following statement of a Scottish minister, with reference to a marriage ceremony: "After leaving the church, the whole company walk round it, keeping the church walls always on the right hand." Thiselton Dyer, in his English Folk-lore, p. 171, mentions a similar custom as existing in the West of England. In Devonshire blackhead or pinsoles are cured by creeping on one's hands and knees under or through a bramble three times with the sun; that is from east to west. See also Ralston's Songs of the Russian people, p. 299. See also the extract from Sinclair's Statistical Account of Scotland in Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. 1, p. 225; "When a Highlander goes to bathe or to drink water out of a consecrated fountain, he must always approach by going round the place from East to West on the South side, in imitation of the apparent diurnal motion of the sun. This is called in Gaelic going round the right, or the lucky way. The opposite course is the wrong, or the unlucky way. And if a person's meat or drink were to affect the wind-pipe, or come against his breath, they would instantly cry out, "Desheal," which is an ejaculation praying it may go by the right way." Cp. the note in Munro's Lucretius on V, 1199, and Burton's Narratives from Criminal Trials in Scotland, Vol. I, p. 278. BOOK III. CHAPTER XV. Honour to that conqueror of obstacles whose favour, I ween, even the Creator [199] implored, in order that he might accomplish the creation of the world without let or hindrance. That five-arrowed god of love conquers the world, at whose command even Siva trembles, when he is being embraced by his beloved. Thus having obtained Vásavadattá, that king of Vatsa gradually became most exclusively devoted to the pleasure of her society. But his prime minister Yaugandharáyana, and his general Rumanvat, upheld day and night the burden of his empire. And once upon a time the minister Yaugandharáyana, full of anxiety, brought Rumanvat to his house at night and said to him as follows: "This lord of Vatsa is sprung from the Pándava race, and the whole earth is his by hereditary descent, as also the city named of the elephant. [200] All these this king has abandoned not being desirous of making conquests, and his kingdom has so become confined to this one small corner of the earth. For he certainly remains devoted to women, wine and hunting, and he has delegated to us all the duty of thinking about his kingdom. So we by our own intelligence must take such steps, as that he shall obtain the empire of the whole earth, which is his hereditary right. For, if we do this, we shall have exhibited devotion to his cause, and performed our duty as ministers; for every thing is accomplished by intellect, and in proof of this listen to the following tale:" Story of the clever physician. Once on a time there was a king named Mahásena, and he was attacked by another king far superior to him in power. Then the king's ministers met together, and in order to prevent the ruin of his interests, Mahásena was persuaded by them to pay tribute to that enemy. And after he had paid tribute, that haughty king was exceedingly afflicted, thinking to himself, "Why have I made submission to my enemy?" And his sorrow on that account caused an abscess to form in his vitals, and he was so pulled down by the abscess that at last he was at the point of death. Then a certain wise physician considering that that case could not be cured by medicine, said falsely to that king; "O king, your wife is dead." When he heard that, the king suddenly fell on the ground, and owing to the excessive violence of his grief, the abscess burst of itself. And so the king recovered from his disease, and long enjoyed in the society of that queen the pleasures he desired, and conquered his enemies in his turn. [201] "So, as that physician did his king a good turn by his wisdom, let us also do our king a good turn, let us gain for him the empire of the earth. And in this undertaking our only adversary is Pradyota, the king of Magadha; for he is a foe in the rear that is always attacking us behind. So we must ask for our sovereign that pearl of princesses, his daughter, named Padmávatí. And by our cleverness we will conceal Vásavadattá somewhere, and setting fire to her house, we will give out everywhere that the queen is burnt. For in no other case will the king of Magadha give his daughter to our sovereign, for when I requested him to do so on a former occasion, he answered--'I will not give my daughter, whom I love more than myself, to the king of Vatsa, for he is passionately attached to his wife Vásavadattá.' Moreover, as long as the queen is alive, the king of Vatsa will not marry any one else; but if a report is once spread that the queen is burnt, all will succeed. And when Padmávatí is secured, the king of Magadha will be our marriage connection, and will not attack us in the rear, but will become our ally. Then we will march to conquer the eastern quarter, and the others in due succession, so we shall obtain for the king of Vatsa all this earth. And if we only exert ourselves, this king will obtain the dominion of the earth, for long ago a divine voice predicted this." When Rumanvat heard this speech from the great minister Yaugandharáyana, he feared that the plan would cover them with ridicule, and so he said to him--"Deception practised for the sake of Padmávatí might some day be to the ruin of us both;" in proof of this, listen to the following tale: Story of the hypocritical ascetic. On the bank of the Ganges there is a city named Mákandiká; in that city long ago there was a certain ascetic who observed a vow of silence, and he lived on alms, and surrounded by numerous other holy beggars, dwelt in a monastery within the precincts of a god's temple where he had taken up his abode. Once, when he entered a certain merchant's house to beg, he saw a beautiful maiden coming out with alms in her hand, and the rascal seeing that she was wonderfully beautiful was smitten with love and exclaimed "Ah! Ah! Alas!" And that merchant overheard him. Then taking the alms he had received, he departed to his own house; and then the merchant went there and said to him in his astonishment,--"Why did you to-day suddenly break your vow of silence and say what you did?" When he heard that, the ascetic said to the merchant--"This daughter of yours has inauspicious marks; when she marries, you will undoubtedly perish, wife, sons, and all. So, when I saw her, I was afflicted, for you are my devoted adherent; and thus it was on your account that I broke silence and said what I did. So place this daughter of yours by night in a basket, on the top of which there must be a light, and set her adrift on the Ganges." The merchant said, "So I will," and went away, and at night he did all he had been directed to do out of pure fear. The timid are ever unreflecting. The hermit for his part said at that time to his own pupils, "Go to the Ganges, and when you see a basket floating along with a light on the top of it, bring it here secretly, but you must not open it, even if you hear a noise inside." They said, "We will do so," and off they went; but before they reached the Ganges, strange to say, a certain prince went into the river to bathe. He seeing that basket, which the merchant had thrown in, by the help of the light on it, got his servants to fetch it for him, and immediately opened it out of curiosity. And in it he saw that heart-enchanting girl, and he married her on the spot by the Gándharva ceremony of marriage. And he set the basket adrift on the Ganges, exactly as it was before, putting a lamp on the top of it, and placing a fierce monkey inside it. The prince having departed with that pearl of maidens, the pupils of the hermit came there in the course of their search, and saw that basket, and took it up and carried it to the hermit. Then he being delighted, said to them, "I will take this upstairs and perform incantations with it alone, but you must lie in silence this night." When he had said this, the ascetic took the basket to the top of the monastery, and opened it, eager to behold the merchant's daughter. And then a monkey of terrible appearance sprang out of it, [202] and rushed upon the ascetic, like his own immoral conduct incarnate in bodily form. The monkey in its fury immediately tore off with its teeth the nose of the wicked ascetic, and his ears with its claws, as if it had been a skilful executioner; and in that state the ascetic ran downstairs, and when his pupils beheld him, they could with difficulty suppress their laughter. And early next morning everybody heard the story, and laughed heartily, but the merchant was delighted, and his daughter also, as she had obtained a good husband. And even as the ascetic made himself ridiculous, so too may we possibly become a laughing-stock, if we employ deceit, and fail after all. For the separation of the king from Vásavadattá involves many disadvantages. When Rumanvat had said this to Yaugandharáyana, the latter answered; "In no other way can we conduct our enterprise successfully, and if we do not undertake the enterprise, it is certain that with this self-indulgent king we shall lose even what territory we have got; and the reputation which we have acquired for statesmanship will be tarnished, and we shall cease to be spoken of as men who shew loyalty to their sovereign. For when a king is one who depends on himself for success, his ministers are considered merely the instruments of his wisdom; and in the case of such monarchs you would not have much to do with their success or failures. But when a king depends on his ministers for success, it is their wisdom that achieves his ends, and if they are wanting in enterprise, he must bid a long farewell to all hope of greatness. [203] But if you fear the queen's father Chandamahásena, I must tell you that he and his son and the queen also will do whatever I bid them." When Yaugandharáyana, most resolute among the resolute, had said this, Rumanvat, whose heart dreaded some fatal blunder, again said to him; "Even a discerning prince is afflicted by the pain of being separated from a beloved woman, much more will this king of Vatsa be. In proof of what I say, listen to the following tale:" Story of Unmádiní. [204] Once on a time there was a king named Devasena, best of wise men, and the city of Srávastí was his capital. And in that city there was a wealthy merchant, and to him there was born a daughter of unparalleled beauty. And that daughter became known by the name of Unmádiní, because every one, who beheld her beauty, became mad. Her father the merchant thought, "I must not give this daughter of mine to any one without telling the king, or he may be angry." So he went and said to the king Devasena, "King, I have a daughter who is a very pearl, take her if she finds favour in your eyes." When he heard that, the king sent some Bráhmans, his confidential ministers, saying to them, "Go and see if that maiden possesses the auspicious marks or not." The ministers said, "We will do so," and went. But when they beheld that merchant's daughter, Unmádiní, love was suddenly produced in their souls, and they became utterly bewildered. When they recovered their senses, the Bráhmans said to one another: "If the king marries this maiden, he will think only of her, and will neglect the affairs of the State, and everything will go to rack and ruin; so what is the good of her?" Accordingly they went and told the king, what was not true, that the maiden had inauspicious marks. Then the merchant gave that Unmádiní, whom the king had refused, and who in her heart felt a proud resentment at it, to the king's commander-in-chief. When she was in the house of her husband, she ascended one day to the roof, and exhibited herself to the king, who she knew would pass that way. And the moment the king beheld her, resembling a world-bewildering drug employed by the god of love, distraction seemed to be produced within him. When he returned to his palace, and discovered that it was the same lady he had previously rejected, he was full of regret, and fell violently ill with fever; the commander-in-chief, the husband of the lady, came to him and earnestly entreated him to take her, saying, "She is a slave, she is not the lawful wife of another, or if it seem fit, I will repudiate her in the temple, then my lord can take her for his own." But the king said to him, "I will not take unto myself another man's wife, and if you repudiate her, your righteousness will be at end, and you will deserve punishment at my hands." When they heard that, the other ministers remained silent, and the king was gradually consumed by love's burning fever, and so died. So that king perished, though of firm soul, being deprived of Unmádiní; but what will become of the lord of Vatsa without Vásavadattá? When Yaugandharáyana heard this from Rumanvat, he answered; "Affliction is bravely endured by kings who have their eyes firmly fixed on their duty. Did not Ráma when commissioned by the gods, who were obliged to resort to that contrivance, to kill Rávana, endure the pain of separation from queen Sítá? When he heard this, Rumanvat said in answer--"Such as Ráma are gods, their souls can endure all things. But the thing is intolerable to men; in proof whereof listen to the following tale. Story of the loving couple who died of separation. There is on this earth a great city rich in jewels, named Mathurá. In it there lived a certain young merchant, called Illaka. And he had a dear wife whose mind was devoted to him alone. Once on a time, while he was dwelling with her, the young merchant determined to go to another country on account of the exigencies of his affairs. And that wife of his wished to go with him. For when women are passionately attached to any one, they cannot endure to be separated from him. And then that young merchant set out, having offered the usual preliminary prayer for success in his undertaking, and did not take with him that wife of his, though she had dressed herself for the journey. She looking after him, when he had started, with tears in her eyes, stood supporting herself against the panel of the door of the courtyard. Then, he being out of sight, she was no longer able to endure her grief; but she was too timid to follow him. So her breath left her body. And as soon as the young merchant came to know of that, he returned and to his horror found that dear wife of his a corpse, with pale though lovely complexion, set off by her waving locks, like the spirit of beauty that tenants the moon fallen down to the earth in the day during her sleep. [205] So he took her in his arms and wept over her, and immediately the vital spirits left his body, which was on fire with the flame of grief, as if they were afraid to remain. So that married couple perished by mutual separation, and therefore we must take care that the king is not separated from the queen." When he had said this, Rumanvat ceased, with his mind full of apprehension, but the wise Yaugandharáyana, that ocean of calm resolution answered him; "I have arranged the whole plan, and the affairs of kings often require such steps to be taken, in proof of it, hear the following tale:" Story of Punyasena. There lived long ago in Ujjayiní a king named Punyasena, and once on a time a powerful sovereign came and attacked him. Then his resolute ministers, seeing that that king was hard to conquer, spread everywhere a false report that their own sovereign Punyasena was dead; and they placed him in concealment, and burnt some other man's corpse with all the ceremonies appropriate to a king, and they proposed to the hostile king through an ambassador that, as they had now no king, he should come and be their king. The hostile monarch was pleased and consented, and then the ministers assembled accompanied by soldiers, and proceeded to storm his camp. And the enemy's army being destroyed, Punyasena's ministers brought him out of concealment, and having recovered their power put that hostile king to death. "Such necessities will arise in monarch's affairs, therefore let us resolutely accomplish this business of the king's by spreading a report of the queen's having been burnt." When he heard this from Yaugandharáyana, who had made up his mind, Rumanvat said; "If this is resolved upon, let us send for Gopálaka the queen's respected brother, and let us take all our measures duly, after consultation with him." Then Yaugandharáyana said, "So be it," and Rumanvat allowed himself to be guided, in determining what was to be done, by the confidence which he placed in his colleague. The next day, these dexterous ministers sent off a messenger of their own to bring Gopálaka, on the pretext that his relations longed to see him. And as he had only departed before on account of urgent business, Gopálaka came at the request of the messenger, seeming like an incarnate festival. And the very day he came, Yaugandharáyana took him by night to his own house together with Rumanvat, and there he told him of that daring scheme which he wished to undertake, all of which he had before deliberated about together with that Rumanvat; and Gopálaka desiring the good of the king of Vatsa consented to the scheme though he knew it would bring sorrow to his sister, for the mind of good men is ever fixed upon duty. Then Rumanvat again said,--"All this is well planned, but when the king of Vatsa hears that his wife is burnt, he will be inclined to yield up his breath, and how is he to be prevented from doing so? This is a matter which ought to be considered. For though all the usual politic expedients may advantageously be employed, the principal element of sound state-craft is the averting of misfortune." Then Yaugandharáyana who had reflected on everything that was to be done, said, "There need be no anxiety about this, for the queen is a princess, the younger sister of Gopálaka, and dearer to him than his life, and when the king of Vatsa sees how little afflicted Gopálaka is, he will think to himself, 'Perhaps the queen may be alive after all,' and so will be able to control his feelings. Moreover he is of heroic disposition, and the marriage of Padmávatí will be quickly got through, and then we can soon bring the queen out of concealment." Then Yaugandharáyana, and Gopálaka, and Rumanvat having made up their minds to this, deliberated as follows: "Let us adopt the artifice of going to Lávánaka with the king and queen, for that district is a border-district near the kingdom of Magadha. And because it contains admirable hunting-grounds, it will tempt the king to absent himself from the palace, so we can set the women's apartments there on fire and carry out the plan [206] on which we have determined. And by an artifice we will take the queen and leave her in the palace of Padmávatí, in order that Padmávatí herself may be a witness to the queen's virtuous behaviour in a state of concealment." Having thus deliberated together during the night, they all, with Yaugandharáyana at their head, entered the king's palace on the next day. Then Rumanvat made the following representation to the king, "O king, it is a long time since we have gone to Lávánaka, and it is a very delightful place, moreover you will find capital hunting-grounds there, and grass for the horses can easily be obtained. And the king of Magadha, being so near, afflicts all that district. So let us go there for the sake of defending it, as well as for our own enjoyment." And the king, when he heard this, having his mind always set on enjoyment, determined to go to Lávánaka together with Vásavadattá. The next day, the journey having been decided on, and the auspicious hour having been fixed by the astrologers, suddenly the hermit Nárada came to visit the monarch. He illuminated the region with his splendour, as he descended from the midst of heaven, and gave a feast to the eyes of all spectators, seeming as if he were the moon come down out of affection towards his own descendants. [207] After accepting the usual hospitable attentions, the hermit graciously gave to the king, who bowed humbly before him, a garland from the Párijáta [208] tree. And he congratulated the queen, by whom he was politely received, promising her that she should have a son, who should be a portion of Cupid [209] and king of all the Vidyádharas. And then he said to the king of Vatsa, while Yaugandharáyana was standing by, "O king, the sight of your wife Vásavadattá has strangely brought something to my recollection. In old time you had for ancestors Yudhishthira and his brothers. And those five had one wife between them, Draupadí by name. And she, like Vásavadattá, was matchless in beauty. Then, fearing that her beauty would do mischief, I said to them, you must avoid jealousy, for that is the seed of calamities; in proof of it, listen to the following tale, which I will relate to you. [210] Story of Sunda and Upasunda. There were two brothers, Asuras by race, Sunda and Upasunda, hard to overcome, inasmuch as they surpassed the three worlds in valour. And Brahmá, wishing to destroy them, gave an order to Visvakarman, [211] and had constructed a heavenly woman named Tilottamá, in order to behold whose beauty even Siva truly became four-faced, so as to look four ways at once, while she was devoutly circumambulating him. She, by the order of Brahmá, went to Sunda and Upasunda, while they were in the garden of Kailása, in order to seduce them. And both those two Asuras distracted with love, seized the fair one at the same time by both her arms, the moment they saw her near them. And as they were dragging her off in mutual opposition, they soon came to blows, and both of them were destroyed. To whom is not the attractive object called woman the cause of misfortune? And you, though many, have one love, Draupadí, therefore you must without fail avoid quarrelling about her. And by my advice always observe this rule with respect to her. When she is with the eldest, she must be considered a mother by the younger, and when she is with the youngest, she must be considered a daughter-in-law by the eldest. Your ancestors, O king, accepted that speech of mine with unanimous consent, having their minds fixed on salutary counsels. And they were my friends, and it is through love for them that I have come to visit you here, king of Vatsa, therefore I give you this advice. Do you follow the counsel of your ministers, as they followed mine, and in a short time you will gain great success. For some time you will suffer grief, but you must not be too much distressed about it, for it will end in happiness." After the hermit Nárada, so clever in indirectly intimating future prosperity, had said this duly to the king of Vatsa, he immediately disappeared. And then Yaugandharáyana and all the other ministers, auguring from the speech of that great hermit that the scheme they had in view was about to succeed, became exceedingly zealous about carrying it into effect. CHAPTER XVI. Then Yaugandharáyana and the other ministers managed to conduct the king of Vatsa with his beloved, by the above-mentioned stratagem, to Lávánaka. The king arrived at that place, which, by the roar of the host echoing through it, seemed, as it were, to proclaim that the ministers' object would be successfully attained. And the king of Magadha, when he heard that the lord of Vatsa had arrived there with a large following, trembled, anticipating attack. But he being wise, sent an ambassador to Yaugandharáyana, and that excellent minister well-versed in his duties, received him gladly. The king of Vatsa for his part, while staying in that place, ranged every day the wide-extended forest for the sake of sport. One day, the king having gone to hunt, the wise Yaugandharáyana accompanied by Gopálaka, having arranged what was to be done, and taking with him also Rumanvat and Vasantaka, went secretly to the queen Vásavadattá, who bowed at their approach. There he used various representations to persuade her to assist in furthering the king's interests, though she had been previously informed of the whole affair by her brother. And she agreed to the proposal, though it inflicted on her the pain of separation. What indeed is there which women of good family, who are attached to their husbands, will not endure? Thereupon the skilful Yaugandharáyana made her assume the appearance of a Bráhman woman, having given her a charm, which enabled her to change her shape. And he made Vasantaka one-eyed and like a Bráhman boy, and as for himself, he in the same way assumed the appearance of an old Bráhman. Then that mighty-minded one took the queen, after she had assumed that appearance, and accompanied by Vasantaka, set out leisurely for the town of Magadha. And so Vásavadattá left her house, and went in bodily presence along the road, though she wandered in spirit to her husband. Then Rumanvat burnt her pavilion with fire, and exclaimed aloud--"Alas! alas! The queen and Vasantaka are burnt." And so in that place there rose to heaven at the same time flames and lamentation; the flames gradually subsided, not so the sound of weeping. Then Yaugandharáyana with Vásavadattá and Vasantaka reached the city of the king of Magadha, and seeing the princess Padmávatí in the garden, he went up to her with those two, though the guards tried to prevent him. And Padmávatí, when she saw the queen Vásavadattá in the dress of a Bráhman woman, fell in love with her at first sight. The princess ordered the guards to desist from their opposition, and had Yaugandharáyana, who was disguised as a Bráhman, conducted into her presence. And she addressed to him this question, "Great Bráhman, who is this girl you have with you, and why are you come?" And he answered her, "Princess, this is my daughter Ávantiká by name, and her husband, being addicted to vice, [212] has deserted her and fled somewhere or other. So I will leave her in your care, illustrious lady, while I go and find her husband, and bring him back, which will be in a short time. And let this one-eyed boy, her brother, remain here near her, in order that she may not be grieved at having to remain alone." He said this to the princess, and she granted his request, and, taking leave of the queen, the good minister quickly returned to Lávánaka. Then Padmávatí took with her Vásavadattá, who was passing under the name of Ávantiká, and Vasantaka who accompanied her in the form of a one-eyed boy; and shewing her excellent disposition by her kind reception and affectionate treatment of them, entered her splendidly-adorned palace; and there Vásavadattá, seeing Sítá in the history of Ráma represented upon the painted walls, was enabled to bear her own sorrow. And Padmávatí perceived that Vásavadattá was a person of very high rank, by her shape, her delicate softness, the graceful manner in which she sat down, and ate, and also by the smell of her body, which was fragrant as the blue lotus, and so she entertained her with luxurious comfort to her heart's content, even such as she enjoyed herself. And she thought to herself, "Surely she is some distinguished person remaining here in concealment; did not Draupadí remain concealed in the palace of the king of Viráta?" Then Vásavadattá, out of regard for the princess made for her unfading garlands and forehead-streaks, as the king of Vatsa had previously taught her; and Padmávatí's mother, seeing her adorned with them, asked her privately who had made those garlands and streaks. Then Padmávatí said to her, "There is dwelling here in my house a certain lady of the name of Ávantiká, she made all these for me." When her mother heard that, she said to her, then, my daughter, she is not a woman, she is some goddess, since she possesses such knowledge; gods and also hermits remain in the houses of good people for the sake of deluding them, and in proof of this listen to the following anecdote. Story of Kuntí. There was once a king named Kuntibhoja; and a hermit of the name of Durvásas, who was exceedingly fond of deluding people, came and stayed in his palace. He commissioned his own daughter Kuntí to attend upon the hermit, and she diligently waited upon him. And one day he, wishing to prove her, said to her, "Cook boiled rice with milk and sugar quickly, while I bathe, and then I will come and eat it." The sage said this, and bathed quickly, and then he came to eat it, and Kuntí brought him the vessel full of that food; and then the hermit, knowing that it was almost red-hot with the heated rice, and seeing that she could not hold it in her hands, [213] cast a look at the back of Kuntí and she perceiving what was passing in the hermit's mind, placed the vessel on her back; then he ate to his heart's content while Kuntí's back was being burnt, and because, though she was terribly burnt, she stood without being at all discomposed, the hermit was much pleased with her conduct, and after he had eaten granted her a boon. "So the hermit remained there, and in the same way this Ávantiká, who is now staying in your palace, is some distinguished person, therefore endeavour to conciliate her." When she heard this from the mouth of her mother, Padmávatí showed the utmost consideration for Vásavadattá, who was living disguised in her palace. And Vásavadattá for her part, being separated from her lord, remained there pale with bereavement, like a lotus in the night. [214] But the various boyish grimaces, which Vasantaka exhibited, [215] again and again called a smile into her face. In the meanwhile the king of Vatsa, who had wandered away into very distant hunting-grounds, returned late in the evening to Lávánaka. And there he saw the women's apartments reduced to ashes by fire, and heard from his ministers that the queen was burnt with Vasantaka. And when he heard it, he fell on the ground, and he was robbed of his senses by unconsciousness, that seemed to desire to remove the painful sense of grief. But in a moment he came to himself and was burnt with sorrow in his heart, as if penetrated with the fire that strove to consume [216] the image of the queen imprinted there. Then overpowered with sorrow he lamented, and thought of nothing but suicide; but a moment after he began to reflect, calling to mind the following prediction--"From this queen shall be born a son who shall reign over all the Vidyádharas. This is what the hermit Nárada told me, and it cannot be false. Moreover that same hermit warned me that I should have sorrow for some time. And the affliction of Gopálaka seems to be but slight. Besides I cannot detect any excessive grief in Yaugandharáyana and the other ministers, therefore I suspect the queen may possibly be alive. But the ministers may in this matter have employed a certain amount of politic artifice, therefore I may some day be re-united with the queen. So I see an end to this affliction." Thus reflecting and being exhorted by his ministers, the king established in his heart self-control. And Gopálaka sent off a private messenger immediately, without any one's knowing of it, to his sister, to comfort her, with an exact report of the state of affairs. Such being the situation in Lávánaka, the spies of the king of Magadha who were there, went off to him and told him all. The king who was ever ready to seize the opportune moment, when he heard this, was once more anxious to give to the king of Vatsa his daughter Padmávatí, who had before been asked in marriage by his ministers. Then he communicated his wishes with respect to this matter to the king of Vatsa, and also to Yaugandharáyana. And by the advice of Yaugandharáyana, the king of Vatsa accepted that proposal, thinking to himself that perhaps this was the very reason why the queen had been concealed. Then Yaugandharáyana quickly ascertained an auspicious moment, and sent to the sovereign of Magadha an ambassador with an answer to his proposal which ran as follows: "Thy desire is approved by us, so on the seventh day from this, the king of Vatsa will arrive at thy court to marry Padmávatí, in order that he may quickly forget Vásavadattá." This was the message which the great minister sent to that king. And that ambassador conveyed it to the king of Magadha, who received him joyfully. Then the lord of Magadha made such preparations for the joyful occasion of the marriage, as were in accordance with his love for his daughter, his own desire, and his wealth; and Padmávatí was delighted at hearing that she had obtained the bridegroom she desired, but, when Vásavadattá heard that news, she was depressed in spirit. That intelligence, when it reached her ear, changed the colour of her face, and assisted the transformation effected by her disguise. But Vasantaka said, "In this way an enemy will be turned into a friend, and your husband will not be alienated from you." This speech of Vasantaka consoled her like a confidante, and enabled her to bear up. Then the discreet lady again prepared for Padmávatí unfading garlands and forehead-streaks, both of heavenly beauty, as her marriage was now nigh at hand; and when the seventh day from that arrived, the monarch of Vatsa actually came there with his troops, accompanied by his ministers, to marry her. How could he in his state of bereavement have ever thought of undertaking such a thing, if he had not hoped in that way to recover the queen? And the king of Magadha immediately came with great delight to meet him, (who was a feast to the eyes of the king's subjects,) as the sea advances to meet the rising moon. Then the monarch of Vatsa entered the city of the king of Magadha, and at the same time great joy entered the minds of the citizens on every side. There the women beheld him fascinating [217] the mind, though his frame was attenuated from bereavement, looking like the god of love, deprived of his wife Rati. Then the king of Vatsa entered the palace of the lord of Magadha, and proceeded to the chamber prepared for the marriage ceremony, which was full of women whose husbands were still alive. In that chamber he beheld Padmávatí adorned for the wedding, surpassing with the full moon of her face the circle of the full moon. And seeing that she had garlands and forehead-streaks such as he himself only could make, the king could not help wondering where she got them. Then he ascended the raised platform of the altar, and his taking her hand there was a commencement of his taking the tribute [218] of the whole earth. The smoke of the altar dimmed his eyes with tears, as supposing that he could not bear to witness the ceremony, since he loved Vásavadattá so much. Then the face of Padmávatí, reddened with circumambulating the fire, appeared as if full of anger on account of her perceiving what was passing in her husband's mind. When the ceremony of marriage was completed, the king of Vatsa let the hand of Padmávatí quit his, but he never even for a moment allowed the image of Vásavadattá to be absent from his heart. Then the king of Magadha gave him jewels in such abundance, that the earth seemed to be deprived of her gems, they all having been extracted. And Yaugandharáyana, calling the fire to witness on that occasion, made the king of Magadha undertake never to injure his master. So that festive scene proceeded, with the distribution of garments and ornaments, with the songs of excellent minstrels, and the dancing of dancing-girls. In the meanwhile Vásavadattá remained unobserved, hoping for the glory of her husband, appearing [219] to be asleep, like the beauty of the moon in the day. Then the king of Vatsa went to the women's apartments, and the skilful Yaugandharáyana, being afraid that he would see the queen, and that so the whole secret would be divulged, said to the sovereign of Magadha, "Prince, this very day the king of Vatsa will set forth from thy house." The king of Magadha consented to it, and then the minister made the very same announcement to the king of Vatsa, and he also approved of it. Then the king of Vatsa set out from that place, after his attendants had eaten and drunk, together with his ministers, escorting his bride Padmávatí. And Vásavadattá, ascending a comfortable carriage sent by Padmávatí, with its great horses also put at her disposal by her, went secretly in the rear of the army, making the transformed Vasantaka precede her. At last the king of Vatsa reached Lávánaka, and entered his own house, together with his bride, but thought all the time only of the queen Vásavadattá. The queen also arrived and entered the house of Gopálaka at night, making the chamberlains wait round it. There she saw her brother Gopálaka who shewed her great attention, and she embraced his neck weeping, while his eyes filled with tears; and at that moment arrived Yaugandharáyana, true to his previous agreement, together with Rumanvat, and the queen shewed him all due courtesy. And while he was engaged in dispelling the queen's grief caused by the great effort she had made, and her separation from her husband, those chamberlains repaired to Padmávatí, and said, "Queen, Ávantiká has arrived, but she has in a strange way dismissed us, and gone to the house of prince Gopálaka." When Padmávatí heard that representation from her chamberlains, she was alarmed and in the presence of the king of Vatsa answered them, "Go and say to Ávantiká, 'The queen says--You are a deposit in my hands, so what business have you where you are? Come where I am.'" When they heard that, they departed and the king asked Padmávatí in private who made for her the unfading garlands and forehead-streaks. Then she said, "It is all the product of the great artistic skill of the lady named Ávantiká who was deposited in my house by a certain Bráhman." No sooner did the king hear that, then he went off to the house of Gopálaka, thinking that surely Vásavadattá would be there. And he entered the house, at the door of which eunuchs were standing, [220] and within which were the queen, Gopálaka, the two ministers, and Vasantaka. There he saw Vásavadattá returned from banishment, like the orb of the moon freed from its eclipse. Then he fell on the earth delirious with the poison of grief, and trembling was produced in the heart of Vásavadattá. Then she too fell on the earth with limbs pale from separation, and lamented aloud, blaming her own conduct. And that couple, afflicted with grief, lamented so that even the face of Yaugandharáyana was washed with tears. And then Padmávatí too heard that wailing, which seemed so little suited to the occasion, and came in a state of bewilderment to the place whence it proceeded. And gradually finding out the truth with respect to the king and Vásavadattá, she was reduced to the same state, for good women are affectionate and tender-hearted. And Vásavadattá frequently exclaimed with tears, "What profit is there in my life that causes only sorrow to my husband?" Then the calm Yaugandharáyana said to the king of Vatsa: "King, I have done all this in order to make you universal emperor, by marrying you to the daughter of the sovereign of Magadha, and the queen is not in the slightest degree to blame; moreover this, her rival wife, is witness to her good behaviour during her absence from you." Thereupon Padmávatí, whose mind was free from jealousy, said, "I am ready to enter the fire on the spot to prove her innocence." And the king said, "I am in fault, as it was for my sake that the queen endured this great affliction." And Vásavadattá having firmly resolved, said, "I must enter the fire to clear from suspicion the mind of the king." Then the wise Yaugandharáyana, best of right-acting men, rinsed his mouth, with his face towards the east, and spoke a blameless speech; "If I have been a benefactor to this king, and if the queen is free from stain, speak, ye guardians of the world; if it is not so, I will part from my body." Thus he spoke and ceased, and this heavenly utterance was heard: "Happy art thou, O king, that hast for minister Yaugandharáyana, and for wife Vásavadattá, who in a former birth was a goddess; not the slightest blame attaches to her." Having uttered this, the Voice ceased. All who were present, when they heard that sound, which resounded though all the regions, delightful as the deep thunder-roar at the first coming of the rain-clouds, having endured affliction for a long time, lifted up their hands and plainly imitated peafowl in their joy. Moreover the king of Vatsa and Gopálaka praised that proceeding of Yaugandharáyana's, and the former already considered that the whole earth was subject to him. Then that king possessing those two wives, whose affection was every day increased by living with him, like joy and tranquillity come to visit him in bodily form, was in a state of supreme felicity. CHAPTER XVII. The next day, the king of Vatsa, sitting in private with Vásavadattá, and Padmávatí, engaged in a festive banquet, sent for Yaugandharáyana, Gopálaka, Rumanvat and Vasantaka, and had much confidential conversation with them. Then the king, in the hearing of them all, told the following tale with reference to the subject of his separation from his beloved. Story of Urvasí. [221] Once on a time there was a king of the name of Purúravas, who was a devoted worshipper of Vishnu; he traversed heaven as well as earth without opposition, and one day, as he was sauntering in Nandana, the garden of the gods, a certain Apsaras of the name of Urvasí, who was a second stupefying weapon [222] in the hands of Love, cast an eye upon him. The moment she beheld him, the sight so completely robbed her of her senses, that she alarmed the timid minds of Rambhá and her other friends. The king too, when he saw that torrent of the nectar of beauty, was quite faint with thirst, because he could not obtain possession of her. Then Vishnu, who knoweth all, dwelling in the sea of milk, gave the following command to Nárada, an excellent hermit, who came to visit him--"O Divine sage, [223] the king Purúravas, at present abiding in the garden of Nandana, having had his mind captivated by Urvasí, remains incapable of bearing the pain of separation from his love. Therefore go, O hermit, and informing Indra as from me, cause that Urvasí to be quickly given to the king." Having received this order from Vishnu, Nárada undertook to execute it, and going to Purúravas who was in the state described, roused him from his lethargy and said to him;--"Rise up, O king, for thy sake I am sent here by Vishnu, for that god does not neglect the sufferings of those who are unfeignedly devoted to him." With these words, the hermit Nárada cheered up Purúravas, and then went with him into the presence of the king of the gods. Then he communicated the order of Vishnu to Indra, who received it with reverent mind, and so the hermit caused Urvasí to be given to Purúravas. That gift of Urvasí deprived the inhabitants of heaven of life, but it was to Urvasí herself an elixir to restore her to life. Then Purúravas returned with her to the earth, exhibiting to the eyes of mortals the wonderful spectacle of a heavenly bride. Thenceforth those two, Urvasí and that king, remained, so to speak, fastened together by the leash of gazing on one another, so that they were unable to separate. One day Purúravas went to heaven, invited by Indra to assist him, as a war had arisen between him and the Dánavas. In that war the king of the Asuras, named Máyádhara, was slain, and accordingly Indra held a great feast, at which all the nymphs of heaven displayed their skill. And on that occasion Purúravas, when he saw the nymph Rambhá performing a dramatic dance called chalita, [224] with the teacher Tumburu standing by her, laughed. Then Rambhá said to him sarcastically--"I suppose, mortal, you know this heavenly dance, do you not?" Purúravas answered, "From associating with Urvasí, I knew dances which even your teacher Tumburu does not know." When Tumburu heard that, he laid this curse on him in his wrath, "Mayest thou be separated from Urvasí until thou propitiate Krishna." When he heard that curse, Purúravas went and told Urvasí what had happened to him, which was terrible as "a thunderbolt from the blue." Immediately some Gandharvas swooped down, without the king's seeing them, and carried off Urvasí, whither he knew not. Then Purúravas, knowing that the calamity was due to that curse, went and performed penance to appease Vishnu in the hermitage of Badariká. But Urvasí, remaining in the country of the Gandharvas, afflicted at her separation, was as void of sense as if she had been dead, asleep, or a mere picture. She kept herself alive with hoping for the end of the curse, but it is wonderful that she did not lose her hold on life, while she remained like the female chakraváka during the night, the appointed time of her separation from the male bird. And Purúravas propitiated Vishnu by that penance, and, owing to Vishnu's having been gratified, the Gandharvas surrendered Urvasí to him. So that king, re-united to the nymph whom he had recovered at the termination of the curse, enjoyed heavenly pleasures, though living upon earth. The king stopped speaking, and Vásavadattá felt an emotion of shame at having endured separation, when she heard of the attachment of Urvasí to her husband. Then Yaugandharáyana, seeing that the queen was abashed at having been indirectly reproved by her husband, said, in order to make him feel in his turn,--"King, listen to this tale, if you have not already heard it. Story of Vihitasena. There is on this earth a city of the name of Timirá, the dwelling of the goddess of Prosperity; in it there was a famous king named Vihitasena; he had a wife named Tejovatí, a very goddess upon earth. That king was ever hanging on her neck, devoted to her embraces, and could not even bear that his body should be for a short time scratched with the coat of mail. And once there came upon the king a lingering fever with diminishing intensity; and the physicians forbade him to continue in the queen's society. But when he was excluded from the society of the queen, there was engendered in his heart a disease not to be reached by medicine or treatment. The physicians told the ministers in private that the disease might relieve itself by fear or the stroke of some affliction. The ministers reflected--"How can we produce fear in that brave king, who did not tremble when an enormous snake once fell on his back, who was not confused when a hostile army penetrated into his harem? It is useless thinking of devices to produce fear; what are we ministers, to do with the king?" Thus the ministers reflected, and after deliberating with the queen, concealed her, and said to the king, "The queen is dead." While the king was tortured with that exceeding grief, in his agitation that disease in his heart relieved itself. [225] When the king had got over the pain of the illness, the ministers restored to him that great queen, who seemed like a second gift of ease, and the king valued her highly as the saviour of his life, and was too wise to bear anger against her afterwards for concealing herself. For it is care for a husband's interests that entitles a king's wife to the name of queen; by mere compliance with a husband's whims the name of queen is not obtained. And discharging the duty of minister means undivided attention to the burden of the king's affairs, but the compliance with a king's passing fancies is the characteristic of a mere courtier. Accordingly we made this effort in order to come to terms with your enemy, the king of Magadha, and with a view to your conquering the whole earth. So it is not the case that the queen, who, through love for you, endured intolerable separation, has done you a wrong; on the contrary she has conferred on you a great benefit." When the king of Vatsa heard this true speech of his prime-minister's, he thought that he himself was in the wrong, and was quite satisfied. And he said; "I know this well enough, that the queen, like Policy incarnate in bodily form, acting under your inspiration, has bestowed upon me the dominion of the earth. But that unbecoming speech, which I uttered, was due to excessive affection; how can people whose minds are blinded with love bring themselves to deliberate calmly? [226]" With such conversation that king of Vatsa brought the day and the queen's eclipse of shame to an end. On the next day a messenger sent by the king of Magadha, who had discovered the real state of the case, came to the sovereign of Vatsa, and said to him as from his master; "We have been deceived by thy ministers, therefore take such steps as that the world may not henceforth be to us a place of misery." When he heard that, the king shewed all honour to the messenger, and sent him to Padmávatí to take his answer from her. She, for her part, being altogether devoted to Vásavadattá, had an interview with the ambassador in her presence. For humility is an unfailing characteristic of good women. The ambassador delivered her father's message--"My daughter, you have been married by an artifice, and your husband is attached to another, thus it has come to pass that I reap in misery the fruit of being the father of a daughter." But Padmávatí thus answered him, Say to my father from me here--"What need of grief? For my husband is very indulgent to me, and the queen Vásavadattá is my affectionate sister, so my father must not be angry with my husband, unless he wishes to break his own plighted faith and my heart at the same time." When this becoming answer had been given by Padmávatí, the queen Vásavadattá hospitably entertained the ambassador and then sent him away. When the ambassador had departed, Padmávatí remained somewhat depressed with regret, calling to mind her father's house. Then Vásavadattá ordered Vasantaka to amuse her, and he came near, and with that object proceeded to tell the following tale: Story of Somaprabhá. There is a city, the ornament of the earth, called Pátaliputra, and in it there was a great merchant named Dharmagupta. He had a wife named Chandraprabhá, and she once on a time became pregnant, and brought forth a daughter beautiful in all her limbs. That girl, the moment she was born, illuminated the chamber with her beauty, spoke distinctly, [227] and got up and sat down. Then Dharmagupta, seeing that the women in the lying-in-chamber were astonished and terrified, went there himself in a state of alarm. And immediately he asked that girl in secret, bowing before her humbly,--"Adorable one, who art thou, that art thus become incarnate in my family?" She answered him, "Thou must not give me in marriage to any one; as long as I remain in thy house, father, I am a blessing to thee; what profit is there in enquiring further?" When she said this to him, Dharmagupta was frightened, and he concealed her in his house giving out abroad that she was dead. Then that girl, whose name was Somaprabhá gradually grew up with human body, but celestial splendour of beauty. And one day a young merchant, of the name of Guhachandra, beheld her, as she was standing upon the top of her palace, looking on with delight at the celebration of the spring-festival; she clung like a creeper of love round his heart, so that he was, as it were, faint, and with difficulty got home to his house. There he was tortured with the pain of love, and when his parents persistently importuned him to tell them the cause of his distress, he informed them by the mouth of a friend. Then his father, whose name was Guhasena, out of love for his son, went to the house of Dharmagupta, to ask him to give his daughter in marriage to Guhachandra. Then Dharmagupta put off Guhasena when he made the request, desiring to obtain a daughter-in-law, and said to him, "The fact is, my daughter is out of her mind." Considering that he meant by that to refuse to give his daughter, Guhasena returned home, and there he beheld his son prostrated by the fever of love, and thus reflected, "I will persuade the king to move in this matter, for I have before this conferred an obligation on him, and he will cause that maiden to be given to my son, who is at the point of death." Having thus determined, the merchant went and presented to the king a splendid jewel, and made known to him his desire. The king, for his part, being well-disposed towards him, commissioned the head of the police to assist him, with whom he went to the house of Dharmagupta; and surrounded it on all sides with policemen, [228] so that Dharmagupta's throat was choked with tears, as he expected utter ruin. Then Somaprabhá said to Dharmagupta--"Give me in marriage, my father, let not calamity befall you on my account, but I must never be treated as a wife by my husband, and this agreement you must make in express terms with my future father-in-law." When his daughter had said this to him. Dharmagupta agreed to give her in marriage, after stipulating that she should not be treated as a wife; and Guhasena with inward laughter agreed to the condition, thinking to himself, "Only let my son be once married." Then Guhachandra, the son of Guhasena, went to his own house, taking with him his bride Somaprabhá. And in the evening his father said to him, "My son, treat her as a wife, for who abstains from the society of his own wife?" When she heard that, the bride Somaprabhá looked angrily at her father-in-law, and whirled round her threatening fore-finger, as it were the decree of death. When he saw that finger of his daughter-in-law, the breath of that merchant immediately left him, and fear came upon all besides. But Guhachandra, when his father was dead, thought to himself, "The goddess of death has entered into my house as a wife." And thenceforth he avoided the society of that wife, though she remained in his house, and so observed a vow difficult as that of standing on the edge of a sword. And being inly consumed by that grief, losing his taste for all enjoyment, he made a vow and feasted Bráhmans every day. And that wife of his, of heavenly beauty, observing strict silence, used always to give a fee to those Bráhmans after they had eaten. One day an aged Bráhman, who had come to be fed, beheld her exciting the wonder of the world by her dower of beauty; then the Bráhman full of curiosity secretly asked Guhachandra; "Tell me who this young wife of yours is." Then Guhachandra, being importuned by that Bráhman, told him with afflicted mind her whole story. When he heard it, the excellent Bráhman, full of compassion, gave him a charm for appeasing the fire, in order that he might obtain his desire. Accordingly, while Guhachandra was in secret muttering that charm, there appeared to him a Bráhman from the midst of the fire. And that god of fire in the shape of a Bráhman, said to him, as he lay prostrate at his feet, "To-day I will eat in thy house, and I will remain there during the night. And after I have shewn thee the truth with respect to thy wife, I will accomplish thy desire." When he had said this to Guhachandra, the Bráhman entered his house. There he ate like the other Bráhmans, and lay down at night near Guhachandra for one watch of the night only, such was his unwearying zeal. And at this period of the night, Somaprabhá, the wife of Guhachandra, went out from the house of her husband, all the inmates of which were asleep. At that moment that Bráhman woke up Guhachandra, and said to him, "Come, see what thy wife is doing." And by magic power he gave Guhachandra and himself the shape of bees, [229] and going out he shewed him that wife of his, who had issued from the house. And that fair one went a long distance outside the city, and the Bráhman with Guhachandra followed her. Thereupon Guhachandra saw before him a Nyagrodha [230] tree of wide extent, beautiful with its shady stem, and under it he heard a heavenly sound of singing, sweet with strains floating on the air, accompanied with the music of the lyre and the flute. And on the trunk of the tree he saw a heavenly maiden [231], like his wife in appearance, seated on a splendid throne, eclipsing by her beauty the moon-beam, fanned with white chowries, like the goddess presiding over the treasure of all the moon's beauty. And then Guhachandra saw his wife ascend that very tree and sit down beside that lady, occupying half of her throne. While he was contemplating those two heavenly maidens of equal beauty sitting together, it seemed to him as if that night were lighted by three moons. [232] Then he, full of curiosity, thought for a moment, "Can this be sleep or delusion? But away with both these suppositions! This is the expanding of the blossom from the bud of association with the wise, which springs on the tree of right conduct, and this blossom gives promise of the appropriate fruit." While he was thus reflecting at his leisure, those two celestial maidens, after eating food suited for such as they were, drank heavenly wine. Then the wife of Guhachandra said to the second heavenly maiden, "To-day some glorious Bráhman has arrived in our house, for which reason, my sister, my heart is alarmed and I must go." In these words she took leave of that other heavenly maiden and descended from the tree. When Guhachandra and the Bráhman saw that, they returned in front of her, still preserving the form of bees, and arrived in the house by night before she did, and afterwards arrived that heavenly maiden, the wife of Guhachandra, and she entered the house without being observed. Then that Bráhman of his own accord said to Guhachandra; "You have had ocular proof that your wife is divine and not human, and you have to-day seen her sister who is also divine; and how do you suppose that a heavenly nymph can desire the society of a man? So I will give you a charm to be written up over her door, and I will also teach you an artifice to be employed outside the house, which must increase the force of the charm. A fire burns even without being fanned, but much more when a strong current of air is brought to bear on it; in the same way a charm will produce the desired effect unaided, but much more readily when assisted by an artifice." When he had said this, the excellent Bráhman gave a charm to Guhachandra, and instructed him in the artifice, and then vanished in the dawn. Guhachandra for his part wrote it up over the door of his wife's apartment, and in the evening had recourse to the following stratagem calculated to excite her affection. He dressed himself splendidly and went and conversed with a certain hetæra before her eyes. When she saw this, the heavenly maiden being jealous, called to him with voice set free by the charm, and asked him who that woman was. He answered her falsely; "She is a hetæra who has taken a fancy to me, and I shall go and pay her a visit to-day." Then she looked at him askance with wrinkled brows, and lifting up her veil with her left hand, said to him, "Ah! I see: this is why you are dressed so grandly, do not go to her, what have you to do with her? Visit me, for I am your wife." When he had been thus implored by her, agitated with excitement, as if she were possessed, though that evil demon which held her had been expelled by the charm, he was in a state of ecstatic joy, and he immediately entered into her chamber with her, and enjoyed, though a mortal, celestial happiness not conceived of in imagination. Having thus obtained her as a loving wife, conciliated by the magic power of the charm, who abandoned for him her celestial rank, Guhachandra lived happily ever after. "Thus heavenly nymphs, who have been cast down by some curse, live as wives in the houses of righteous men, as a reward for their good deeds, such as acts of devotion and charity. For the honouring of gods and Bráhmans is considered the wishing-cow [233] of the good. For what is not obtained by that? All the other politic expedients, known as conciliation and so on, are mere adjuncts. [234] But evil actions are the chief cause of even heavenly beings, born in a very lofty station, falling from their high estate; as a hurricane is the cause of the falling of blossoms." When he had said this to the princess, Vasantaka continued; "Hear moreover what happened to Ahalyá." Story of Ahalyá. Once upon a time there was a great hermit named Gautama, who knew the past, the present, and the future. And he had a wife named Ahalyá, who in beauty surpassed the nymphs of heaven. One day Indra, in love with her beauty, tempted her in secret, for the mind of rulers, blinded with power, runs towards unlawful objects. And she in her folly encouraged that husband of Sachí, being the slave of her passions; but the hermit Gautama found out the intrigue by his superhuman power, and arrived upon the scene. And Indra immediately assumed, out of fear, the form of a cat. Then Gautama said to Ahalyá; "Who is here?" She answered her husband ambiguously in the Prákrit dialect,--"Here forsooth is a cat," so managing to preserve verbal truth. [235] Then Gautama said, laughing, "It is quite true that your lover is here,--and he inflicted on her a curse, but ordained that it should terminate because she had shewed some regard for truth." The curse ran as follows; "Woman of bad character, take for a long time the nature of a stone, until thou behold Ráma wandering in the forest." And Gautama at the same time inflicted on the god Indra the following curse; "A thousand pictures of that which thou hast desired shall be upon thy body, but when thou shalt behold Tilottamá, a heavenly nymph, whom Visvakarman shall make, they shall turn into a thousand eyes." When he had pronounced this curse, the hermit returned to his austerities according to his desire, but Ahalyá for her part assumed the awful condition of a stone. And Indra immediately had his body covered with repulsive marks; for to whom is not immorality a cause of humiliation? "So true is it that every man's evil actions always bear fruit in himself, for whatever seed a man sows, of that he reaps the fruit. Therefore persons of noble character never desire that, which is disagreeable to their neighbours, for this is the invariable observance of the good, prescribed by divine law. And you two were sister goddesses in a former birth, but you have been degraded in consequence of a curse, and accordingly your hearts are free from strife and bent on doing one another good turns." When they heard this from Vasantaka, Vásavadattá and Padmávatí dismissed from their hearts even the smallest remnants of mutual jealousy. But the queen Vásavadattá made her husband equally the property of both, and acted as kindly to Padmávatí as if she were herself, desiring her welfare. When the king of Magadha heard of that so great generosity of hers from the messengers sent by Padmávatí, he was much pleased. So on the next day the minister Yaugandharáyana came up to the king of Vatsa in the presence of the queen, the others also standing by, and said, "Why do we not go now to Kausámbí, my prince, in order to begin our enterprise, for we know that there is nothing to be feared from the king of Magadha, even though he has been deceived? For he has been completely gained over by means of the negotiation termed 'Giving of a daughter': and how could he make war and so abandon his daughter whom he loves more than life? He must keep his word; moreover he has not been deceived by you; I did it all myself; and it does not displease him; indeed I have learned from my spies that he will not act in a hostile way, and it was for this very purpose that we remained here for these days." While Yaugandharáyana, who had accomplished the task he had in hand, was speaking thus, a messenger belonging to the king of Magadha arrived there, and entered into the palace immediately, being announced by the warder, and after he had done obeisance, he sat down and said to the king of Vatsa; "The king of Magadha is delighted with the intelligence sent by the queen Padmávatí, and he now sends this message to your Highness--'What need is there of many words? I have heard all, and I am pleased with thee. Therefore do the thing for the sake of which this beginning has been made; we submit ourselves.'" The king of Vatsa joyfully received this clear speech of the messenger's, resembling the blossom of the tree of policy planted by Yaugandharáyana. Then he brought Padmávatí with the queen, and, after he had bestowed a present upon the messenger, he dismissed him with honour. Then a messenger from Chandamahásena also arrived, and, after entering, he bowed before the king, according to custom, and said to him, "O king, his majesty Chandamahásena, who understands the secrets of policy, has learnt the state of thy affairs and delighted sends this message--'Your majesty's excellence is plainly declared by this one fact, that you have Yaugandharáyana for your minister, what need of further speeches? Blessed too is Vásavadattá, who, through devotion to you, has done a deed which makes us exalt our head for ever among the good, moreover Padmávatí is not separated from Vásavadattá in my regard, for they two have one heart; therefore quickly exert yourself.'" When the king of Vatsa heard this speech of his father-in-law's messenger, joy suddenly arose in his heart, and his exceeding warmth of affection for the queen was increased, and also the great respect which he felt for his excellent minister. Then the king, together with the queens, entertained the messenger according to the laws of due hospitality, in joyful excitement of mind, and sent him away pleased; and as he was bent on commencing his enterprise, he determined, after deliberating with his ministers, on returning to Kausámbí. CHAPTER XVIII. So on the next day the king of Vatsa set out from Lávánaka for Kausámbí, accompanied by his wives and his ministers, and as he advanced, shouts broke forth from his forces, that filled the plains like the waters of the ocean overflowing out of due time. An image would be furnished of that king advancing on his mighty elephant, if the sun were to journey in the heaven accompanied by the eastern mountain. That king, shaded with his white umbrella, shewed as if waited upon by the moon, delighted at having outdone the splendour of the sun. While he towered resplendent above them all, the chiefs circled around him, like the planets [236] in their orbits around the polar star. And those queens, mounted on a female elephant that followed his, shone like the earth-goddess and the goddess of Fortune accompanying him out of affection in visible shape. The earth, that lay in his path, dinted with the edges of the hoofs of the troops of his prancing steeds, seemed to bear the prints of loving nails, as if it had been enjoyed by the king. In this style progressing, the king of Vatsa, being continually praised by his minstrels, reached in a few days the city of Kausámbí, in which the people kept holiday. The city was resplendent on that occasion, her lord [237] having returned from sojourning abroad. She was clothed in the red silk of banners, round windows were her expanded eyes, the full pitchers in the space in front of the gates were her two swelling breasts, the joyous shouts of the crowd were her cheerful conversation, and white palaces her smile. [238] So, accompanied by his two wives, the king entered the city, and the ladies of the town were much delighted at beholding him. The heaven was filled with hundreds of faces of fair ones standing on charming palaces, as if with the soldiers of the moon [239] that was surpassed in beauty by the faces of the queens, having come to pay their respects. And other women established at the windows, looking with unwinking eyes, [240] seemed like heavenly nymphs in aërial chariots, that had come there out of curiosity. Other women, with their long-lashed eyes closely applied to the lattice of the windows, made, so to speak, cages of arrows to confine love. The eager eye of one woman expanded with desire to behold the king, came, so to speak, to the side of her ear, [241] that did not perceive him, in order to inform it. The rapidly heaving breasts of another, who had run up hastily, seemed to want to leap out of her bodice with ardour to behold him. The necklace of another lady was broken with her excitement, and the pearl-beads seemed like tear-drops of joy falling from her heart. Some women, beholding Vásavadattá and remembering the former report of her having been burned, said as if with anxiety; "If the fire were to do her an injury at Lávánaka, then the sun might as well diffuse over the world darkness which is alien to his nature." Another lady beholding Padmávatí said to her companion; "I am glad to see that the queen is not put to shame by her fellow-wife, who seems like her friend." And others beholding those two queens, and throwing over them garlands of eyes expanded with joy so as to resemble blue lotuses, said to one another; "Surely Siva and Vishnu have not beheld the beauty of these two, otherwise how could they regard with much respect their consorts Umá and Srí?" In this way feasting the eyes of the population, the king of Vatsa with the queens entered his own palace, after performing auspicious ceremonies. Such as is the splendour of a lotus-pool in windy weather, or of the sea when the moon is rising, such was at that period the wonderful splendour of the king's palace. And in a moment it was filled with the presents, which the feudatories offered to procure good luck, and which foreshadowed the coming in of offerings from innumerable kings. And so the king of Vatsa, after honouring the chiefs, entered with great festivity the inner apartments, at the same time finding his way to the heart of every one present. And there he remained between the two queens, like the god of Love between Rati and Príti, [242] and spent the rest of the day in drinking and other enjoyments. The next day, when he was sitting in the hall of assembly accompanied by his ministers, a certain Bráhman came and cried out at the door; "Protection for the Bráhmans! O king! certain wicked herdsmen have cut off my son's foot in the forest without any reason." When he heard that, the king immediately had two or three herdsmen seized and brought before him, and proceeded to question them. Then they gave the following answer; "O king, being herdsmen we roam in the wilderness, and there we have among us a herdsman named Devasena, and he sits in a certain place in the forest on a stone seat, and says to us 'I am your king' and gives us orders. And not a man among us disobeys his orders. Thus, O king, that herdsman rules supreme in the wood. Now to-day the son of this Bráhman came that way, and did not do obeisance to the herdsman king, and when we by the order of the king said to him--'Depart not without doing thy reverence'--the young fellow pushed us aside, and went off laughing in spite of the admonition. Then the herdsman king commanded us to punish the contumacious boy by cutting off his foot. So we, O king, ran after him, and cut off his foot; what man of our humble degree is able to disobey the command of a ruler?" When the herdsmen had made this representation to the king, the wise Yaugandharáyana, after thinking it over, said to him in private; "Certainly that place must contain treasure, on the strength of which a mere herdsman has such influence. [243] So let us go there." When his minister had said this to him, the king made those herdsmen shew him the way, and went to that place in the forest with his soldiers and his attendants. And while, after the ground had been examined, peasants were digging there, a Yaksha in stature like a mountain rose up from beneath it, and said, "O king, this treasure, which I have so long guarded, belongs to thee, as having been buried by thy forefathers, therefore take possession of it." After he had said this to the king and accepted his worship, the Yaksha disappeared, and a great treasure was displayed in the excavation. And from it was extracted a valuable throne studded with jewels, [244] for in the time of prosperity a long series of happy and fortunate events takes place. The Lord of Vatsa took away the whole treasure from the spot in high glee, and after chastising those herdsmen returned to his own city. There the people saw that golden throne brought by the king, which seemed with the streams of rays issuing from its blood-red jewels to foretell [245] the king's forceful conquest of all the regions, and which with its pearls fixed on the end of projecting silver spikes seemed to show its teeth as if laughing again and again when it considered the astonishing intellect of the king's ministers; [246] and they expressed their joy in a charming manner, by striking drums of rejoicing so that they sent forth their glad sounds. The ministers too rejoiced exceedingly, making certain of the king's triumph; for prosperous events happening at the very commencement of an enterprise portend its final success. Then the sky was filled with flags resembling flashes of lightning, and the king like a cloud rained gold on his dependants. And this day having been spent in feasting, on the morrow Yaugandharáyana, wishing to know the mind of the king of Vatsa, said to him; "O king, ascend and adorn that great throne, which thou hast obtained by inheritance from thy ancestors." But the king said, "Surely it is only after conquering all the regions that I can gain glory by ascending that throne, which those famous ancestors of mine mounted after conquering the earth. Not till I have subdued this widely-gemmed earth bounded by the main, will I ascend the great jewelled throne of my ancestors." Saying this, the king did not mount the throne as yet. For men of high birth possess genuine loftiness of spirit. Thereupon Yaugandharáyana being delighted said to him in private; "Bravo! my king! So make first an attempt to conquer the eastern region." When he heard that, the king eagerly asked his minister; "When there are other cardinal points, why do kings first march towards the East?" When Yaugandharáyana heard this, he said to him again; "The North, O king, though rich, is defiled by intercourse with barbarians, and the West is not honoured as being the cause of the setting of the sun and other heavenly bodies; and the South is seen to be neighboured by Rákshasas and inhabited by the god of death; but in the eastern quarter the sun rises, over the East presides Indra, and towards the East flows the Ganges, therefore the East is preferred. Moreover among the countries situated between the Vindhya and Himálaya mountains, the country laved by the waters of the Ganges is considered most excellent. Therefore monarchs who desire success march first towards the East, and dwell moreover in the land visited by the river of the gods. [247] For your ancestors also conquered the regions by beginning with the East, and made their dwelling in Hastinápura on the banks of the Ganges; but Satáníka repaired to Kausámbí on account of its delightful situation, seeing that empire depended upon valour, and situation had nothing to do with it." When he had said this Yaugandharáyana stopped speaking; and the king out of his great regard for heroic exploits said; "It is true that dwelling in any prescribed country is not the cause of empire in this world, for to men of brave disposition their own valour is the only cause of success. For a brave man by himself without any support obtains prosperity; have you never heard à propos of this the tale of the brave man?" Having said this, the lord of Vatsa on the entreaty of his ministers again began to speak, and related in the presence of the queens the following wonderful story. Story of Vidúshaka. In the city of Ujjayiní, which is celebrated throughout the earth, there was in former days a king named Ádityasena. He was a treasure-house of valour, and on account of his sole supremacy, his war chariot, like that of the sun, [248] was not impeded anywhere. When his lofty umbrella, gleaming white like snow, illuminated the firmament, other kings free from heat depressed theirs. He was the receptacle of the jewels produced over the surface of the whole earth, as the sea is the receptacle of waters. Once on a time, he was encamped with his army on the banks of the Ganges, where he had come for some reason or other. There a certain rich merchant of the country, named Gunavartman, came to the king bringing a gem of maidens as a present, and sent this message by the mouth of the warder. This maiden, though the gem of the three worlds, has been born in my house, and I cannot give her to any one else, only your Highness is fit to be the husband of such a girl. Then Gunavartman entered and shewed his daughter to the king. The king, when he beheld that maiden, Tejasvatí by name, illuminating with her brightness the quarters of the heavens, like the flame of the rays from the jewels in the temple of the god of Love, was all enveloped with the radiance of her beauty and fell in love with her, and, as if heated with the fire of passion, began to dissolve in drops of sweat. So he at once accepted her, who was fit for the rank of head queen, and being highly delighted made Gunavartman equal to himself in honour. Then, having married his dear Tejasvatí, the king thought all his objects in life accomplished, and went with her to Ujjayiní. There the king fixed his gaze so exclusively on her face, that he could not see the affairs of his kingdom, though they were of great importance. And his ear being, so to speak, riveted on her musical discourse could not be attracted by the cries of his distressed subjects. The king entered into his harem for a long time and never left it, but the fever of fear left the hearts of his enemies. And after some time there was born to the king, by the queen Tejasvatí, a girl welcomed by all, and there arose in his heart the desire of conquest, which was equally welcome to his subjects. That girl of exceeding beauty, who made the three worlds seem worthless as stubble, excited in him joy, and desire of conquest excited his valour. Then that king Ádityasena set out one day from Ujjayiní to attack a certain contumacious chieftain; and he made that queen Tejasvatí go with him mounted on an elephant, as if she were the protecting goddess of the host. And he mounted an admirable horse, that in spirit and fury resembled a torrent, [249] tall like a moving mountain, with a curl on its breast, and a girth. It seemed to imitate with its feet raised as high as its mouth, the going of Garuda which it had seen in the heaven, rivalling its own swiftness, and it lifted up its head and seemed with fearless eye to measure the earth, as if thinking, "what shall be the limit of my speed?" And after the king had gone a little way, he came to a level piece of ground, and put his horse to its utmost speed to shew it off to Tejasvatí. That horse, on being struck with his heel, went off rapidly, like an arrow impelled from a catapult, in some unknown direction, so that it became invisible to the eyes of men. The soldiers, when they saw that take place, were bewildered, and horsemen galloped in a thousand directions after the king, who was run away with by his horse, but could not overtake him. Thereupon the ministers with the soldiers, fearing some calamity, in their anxiety took with them the weeping queen and returned to Ujjayiní; there they remained with gates closed and ramparts guarded, seeking for news of the king, having cheered up the citizens. In the meanwhile the king was carried by the horse in an instant to the impassable forest of the Vindhya hills, haunted by terrible lions. Then the horse happened to stand still, and the king was immediately distracted with bewilderment, as the great forest made it impossible for him to know whereabouts he was. Seeing no other way out of his difficulties, the king, who knew what the horse had been in a former birth, got down from his saddle, and prostrating himself before the excellent horse, said to him [250]: "Thou art a god; a creature like thee should not commit treason against his lord; so I look upon thee as my protector, take me by a pleasant path." When the horse heard that, he was full of regret, remembering his former birth; and mentally acceded to the king's request, for excellent horses are divine beings. Then the king mounted again, and the horse set out by a road bordered with clear cool lakes, that took away the fatigue of the journey; and by evening the splendid horse had taken the king another hundred yojanas and brought him near Ujjayiní. As the sun beholding his horses, though seven in number, excelled by this courser's speed, had sunk, as it were through shame, into the ravines of the western mountain, and as the darkness was diffused abroad, the wise horse seeing that the gates of Ujjayiní were closed, and that the burning-place outside the gates was terrible at that time, carried the king for shelter to a concealed monastery of Bráhmans, that was situated in a lonely place outside the walls. And the king Ádityasena seeing that that monastery was a fit place to spend the night in, as his horse was tired, attempted to enter it. But the Bráhmans, who dwelt there, opposed his entrance, saying that he must be some keeper of a cemetery [251] or some thief. And out they poured in quarrelsome mood, with savage gestures, for Bráhmans who live by chanting the Sáma Veda, are the home of timidity, boorishness, and ill-temper. While they were clamouring, a virtuous Bráhman named Vidúshaka, the bravest of the brave, came out from that monastery. He was a young man distinguished for strength of arm, who had propitiated the fire by his austerities, and obtained a splendid sword from that divinity, which he had only to think of, and it came to him. That resolute youth Vidúshaka seeing that king of distinguished bearing, who had arrived by night, thought to himself that he was some god in disguise. And the well-disposed youth pushed away all those other Bráhmans, and bowing humbly before the king, caused him to enter the monastery. And when he had rested, and had the dust of the journey washed off by female slaves, Vidúshaka prepared for him suitable food. And he took the saddle off that excellent horse of his, and relieved its fatigue by giving it grass and other fodder. And after he had made a bed for the wearied king, he said to him,--"My lord, I will guard your person, so sleep in peace"--and while the king slept, that Bráhman kept watch the whole night at the door with the sword of the Fire-god in his hand, that came to him on his thinking of it. And on the morrow early, Vidúshaka, without receiving any orders, of his own accord saddled the horse for the king, as soon as he awoke. The king for his part took leave of him, and mounting his horse entered the city of Ujjayiní, beheld afar off by the people bewildered with joy. And the moment he entered, his subjects approached him with a confused hum of delight at his return. The king accompanied by his ministers entered the palace, and great anxiety left the breast of the queen Tejasvatí. Immediately grief seemed to be swept away from the city by the rows of silken flags displayed out of joy, which waved in the wind; and the queen made high festival until the end of the day, until such time as the people of the city and the sun were red as vermilion. [252] And the next day the king Ádityasena had Vidúshaka summoned from the monastery with all the other Bráhmans. And as soon as he had made known what took place in the night, he gave his benefactor Vidúshaka a thousand villages. And the grateful king also gave that Bráhman an umbrella and an elephant and appointed him his domestic chaplain, so that he was beheld with great interest by the people. So Vidúshaka then became equal to a chieftain, for how can a benefit conferred on great persons fail of bearing fruit? And the noble-minded Vidúshaka shared all those villages, which he had received from the king, with the Bráhmans who lived in the monastery. And he remained in the court of the king in attendance upon him, enjoying together with the other Bráhmans the income of those villages. But as time went on, those other Bráhmans began striving each of them to be chief, and made no account of Vidúshaka, being intoxicated with the pride of wealth. Dwelling in separate parties, seven in one place, with their mutual rivalries they oppressed the villages like malignant planets. Vidúshaka regarded their excesses with scornful indifference, for men of firm mind rightly treat with contempt men of little soul. Once upon a time a Bráhman of the name of Chakradhara, who was naturally stern, seeing them engaged in wrangling, came up to them. Chakradhara, though he was one-eyed, was keen-sighted enough in deciding what was right in other men's affairs, and though a hunchback, was straightforward enough in speech. He said to them--"While you were living by begging, you obtained this windfall, you rascals, then why do you ruin the villages with your mutual intolerance? It is all the fault of Vidúshaka who has permitted you to act thus; so you may be certain that in a short time you will again have to roam about begging. For a situation, in which there is no head, and every one has to shift for himself by his own wits as chance directs, is better than one of disunion under many heads, in which all affairs go to rack and ruin. So take my advice and appoint one firm man as your head, if you desire unshaken prosperity, which can only be ensured by a capable governor." On hearing that, every one of them desired the headship for himself; thereupon Chakradhara after reflection again said to those fools; "As you are so addicted to mutual rivalry I propose to you a basis of agreement. In the neighbouring cemetery three robbers have been executed by impalement; whoever is daring enough to cut off the noses of those three by night and to bring them here, he shall be your head, for courage merits command. [253]" When Chakradhara made this proposal to the Bráhmans, Vidúshaka, who was standing near, said to them; "Do this, what is there to be afraid of?" Then the Bráhmans said to him; "We are not bold enough to do it, let whoever is able, do it, and we will abide by the agreement." Then Vidúshaka said, "Well, I will do it, I will cut off the noses of those robbers by night and bring them from the cemetery." Then those fools, thinking the task a difficult one, said to him; "If you do this you shall be our lord, we make this agreement." When they had pronounced this agreement, and night had set in, Vidúshaka took leave of those Bráhmans and went to the cemetery. So the hero entered the cemetery awful as his own undertaking, with the sword of the Fire-god, that came with a thought, as his only companion. And in the middle of that cemetery where the cries of vultures and jackals were swelled by the screams of witches, and the flames of the funeral pyres were reinforced by the fires in the mouths of the fire-breathing demons, he beheld those impaled men with their faces turned up, as if through fear of having their noses cut off. And when he approached them, those three being tenanted by demons struck him with their fists [254]; and he for his part slashed them in return with his sword, for fear has not learned to bestir herself in the breast of the resolute. Accordingly the corpses ceased to be convulsed with demons, and then the successful hero cut off their noses and brought them away, binding them up in his garment. And as he was returning, he beheld in that cemetery a religious mendicant sitting on a corpse muttering charms, and through curiosity to have the amusement of seeing what he was doing, he stood concealed behind that mendicant. In a moment the corpse under the mendicant gave forth a hissing sound, and flames issued from its mouth, and from its navel mustard-seeds. And then the mendicant took the mustard-seeds, and rising up struck the corpse with the flat of his hand, and the corpse, which was tenanted by a mighty demon, stood up, and then that mendicant mounted on its shoulder, and began to depart at a rapid rate, [255] and Vidúshaka silently followed him unobserved, and after he had gone a short distance Vidúshaka saw an empty temple with an image of Durgá in it. Then the mendicant got down from the shoulder of the demon, and entered the inner shrine of the temple, while the demon fell flat on the earth. But Vidúshaka was present also, contriving to watch the mendicant, unperceived by him. The mendicant worshipped the goddess there and offered the following prayer; "If thou art pleased with me, O goddess, grant me the desired boon. If not I will propitiate thee with the sacrifice of myself." When the mendicant, intoxicated with the success of his powerful spells, said this, a voice coming from the inner shrine thus addressed the mendicant; "Bring here the maiden daughter of king Ádityasena, and offer her as a sacrifice, then thou shalt obtain thy desire." When the mendicant heard this, he went out, and striking once more with his hand the demon, [256] who hissed at the blow, made him stand upright. And mounting on the shoulder of the demon, from whose mouth issued flames of fire, he flew away through the air to bring the princess. Vidúshaka seeing all this from his place of concealment thought to himself; "What! shall he slay the king's daughter while I am alive? I will remain here until the scoundrel returns." Having formed this resolve, Vidúshaka remained there in concealment. But the mendicant entered the female apartments of the palace through the window, and found the king's daughter asleep, as it was night. And he returned, all clothed in darkness, through the air, bringing with him the princess who illuminated with her beauty the region, as Ráhu carries off a digit of the moon. And bearing along with him that princess who exclaimed in her grief--"Alas! my father! Alas! my mother"--he descended from the sky in that very temple of the goddess. And then, dismissing the demon, he entered with that pearl of maidens into the inner shrine of the goddess, and while he was preparing to slay the princess there, Vidúshaka came in with his sword drawn. He said to the mendicant, "Villain! do you wish to smite a jasmine flower with a thunder-bolt, in that you desire to employ a weapon against this tender form?" And then he seized the trembling mendicant by the hair, and cut off his head. And he consoled the princess distracted with fear, who clung to him closely as she began to recognise him. And then the hero thought; "How can I manage during the night to convey this princess from this place to the harem?" Then a voice from the air addressed him; "Hear this O Vidúshaka! the mendicant, whom thou hast slain, had in his power a great demon and some grains of mustard-seed. Thence arose his desire to be ruler of the earth and marry the daughters of kings, and so the fool has this day been baffled. Therefore thou hero, take those mustard-seeds, in order that for this night only thou mayest be enabled to travel through the air." Thus the aërial voice addressed the delighted Vidúshaka; for even the gods often take such a hero under their protection. Then he took in his hand those grains of mustard-seed from the corner of the mendicant's robe, and the princess in his arms. And while he was setting out from that temple of the goddess, another voice sounded in the air; "Thou must return to this very temple of the goddess at the end of a month, thou must not forget this, O hero!" When he heard this, Vidúshaka said "I will do so,"--and by the favour of the goddess he immediately flew up into the air bearing with him the princess. And flying through the air he quickly placed that princess in her private apartments, and said to her after she had recovered her spirits; "To-morrow morning I shall not be able to fly through the air, and so all men will see me going out, so I must depart now." When he said this to her, the maiden being alarmed, answered him; "When you are gone, this breath of mine will leave my body overcome with fear. Therefore do not depart, great-souled hero; once more save my life, for the good make it their business from their birth to carry out every task they have undertaken." When the brave Vidúshaka heard that, he reflected, "If I go, and leave this maiden, she may possibly die of fear; and then what kind of loyalty to my sovereign shall I have exhibited? Thinking thus he remained all night in those female apartments, and he gradually dropped off to sleep wearied with toil and watching. But the princess in her terror passed that night without sleeping: and even when the morning came she did not wake up the sleeping Vidúshaka, as her mind was made tender by love [257], and she said to herself; "Let him rest a little longer." Then the servants of the harem came in and saw him, and in a state of consternation they went and told the king. The king for his part sent the warder to discover the truth, and he entering beheld Vidúshaka there. And he heard the whole story from the mouth of the princess, and went and repeated it all to the king. And the king knowing the excellent character of Vidúshaka, was immediately bewildered, wondering what it could mean. And he had Vidúshaka brought from his daughter's apartment, escorted all the way by her soul, which followed him out of affection. And when he arrived, the king asked him what had taken place, and Vidúshaka told him the whole story from the beginning, and shewed him the noses of the robbers fastened up in the end of his garment, and the mustard-seeds which had been in the possession of the mendicant, different from those found on earth. The high-minded monarch suspected that Vidúshaka's story was true from these circumstances, so he had all the Bráhmans of the monastery brought before him, together with Chakradhara, and asked about the original cause of the whole matter. And he went in person to the cemetery and saw those men with their noses cut off, and that base mendicant with his neck severed, and then he reposed complete confidence in, and was much pleased with, the skilful and successful Vidúshaka, who had saved his daughter's life. And he gave him his own daughter on the spot; what do generous men withhold when pleased with their benefactors? Surely the goddess of Prosperity, [258] out of love for the lotus, dwelt in the hand of the princess, since Vidúshaka obtained great good fortune after he had received it in the marriage ceremony. Then Vidúshaka enjoying a distinguished reputation, and engaged in attending upon the sovereign, lived with that beloved wife in the palace of king Ádityasena. Then as days went on, once upon a time the princess impelled by some supernatural power said at night to Vidúshaka; "My lord, you remember that when you were in the temple of the goddess a divine voice said to you, 'Come here at the end of a month.' To-day is the last day of the month, and you have forgotten it." When his beloved said this to him, Vidúshaka was delighted, and recalled it to mind, and said to his wife--"Well remembered on thy part, fair one! But I had forgotten it." And then he embraced her by way of reward. And then, while she was asleep, he left the women's apartments by night, and in high spirits he went armed with his sword to the temple of the goddess; then he exclaimed outside, "I Vidúshaka am arrived:" and he heard this speech uttered by some one inside--"Come in, Vidúshaka." Thereupon he entered and beheld a heavenly palace, and inside it a lady of heavenly beauty with a heavenly retinue, dispelling with her brightness the darkness, like a night set on fire, looking as if she were the medicine to restore to life the god of love consumed with the fire of the wrath of Siva. He wondering what it could all mean, was joyfully received by her in person with a welcome full of affection and great respect. And when he had sat down and had gained confidence from seeing her affection, he became eager to understand the real nature of the adventure, and she said to him; "I am a maiden of the Vidyádhara race, of high descent, and my name is Bhadrá, and as I was roaming about at my will I saw you here on that occasion. And as my mind was attracted by your virtues, I uttered at that time that voice which seemed to come from some one invisible, in order that you might return. And to-day I bewildered the princess by employing my magic skill, so that under my impulse she revived your remembrance of this matter, and for your sake I am here, and so, handsome hero, I surrender myself to you; marry me." The noble Vidúshaka, when the Vidyádharí Bhadrá addressed him in this style, agreed that moment, and married her by the Gándharva ceremony. Then he remained in that very place, having obtained celestial joys, the fruits of his own valour, living with that beloved wife. Meanwhile the princess woke up when the night came to an end, and not seeing her husband, was immediately plunged in despair. So she got up and went with tottering steps to her mother, all trembling, with her eyes flooded with gushing tears. And she told her mother that her husband had gone away somewhere in the night, and was full of self-reproach, fearing that she had been guilty of some fault. Then her mother was distracted owing to her love for her daughter, and so in course of time the king heard of it, and came there, and fell into a state of the utmost anxiety. When his daughter said to him--"I know my husband has gone to the temple of the goddess outside the cemetery"--the king went there in person. But he was not able to find Vidúshaka there in spite of all his searching, for he was concealed by virtue of the magic science of the Vidyádharí. Then the king returned, and his daughter in despair determined to leave the body, but while she was thus minded, some wise man came to her and said this to her; "Do not fear any misfortune, for that husband of thine is living in the enjoyment of heavenly felicity, and will return to thee shortly." When she heard that, the princess retained her life, which was kept in her by the hope of her husband's return, that had taken deep root in her heart. Then, while Vidúshaka was living there, a certain friend of his beloved, named Yogesvarí, came to Bhadrá, and said to her in secret--"My friend, the Vidyádharas are angry with you because you live with a man, and they seek to do you an injury, therefore leave this place. There is a city called Kárkotaka on the shore of the eastern sea, and beyond that there is a sanctifying stream named Sítodá, and after you cross that, there is a great mountain named Udaya, [259] the land of the Siddhas, [260] which the Vidyádharas may not invade; go there immediately, and do not be anxious about the beloved mortal whom you leave here, for before you start you can tell all this to him, so that he shall be able afterwards to journey there with speed." When her friend said this to her, Bhadrá was overcome with fear, and though attached to Vidúshaka, she consented to do as her friend advised. So she told her scheme to Vidúshaka, and providently gave him her ring, and then disappeared at the close of the night. And Vidúshaka immediately found himself in the empty temple of the goddess, in which he had been before, and no Bhadrá and no palace. Remembering the delusion produced by Bhadrá's magic skill, and beholding the ring, Vidúshaka was overpowered by a paroxysm of despair and wonder. And remembering her speech as if it were a dream, he reflected,--"Before she left, she assigned as a place of meeting the mountain of the sun-rising; so I must quickly go there to find her: but if I am seen by the people in this state, the king will not let me go: so I will employ a stratagem in this matter, in order that I may accomplish my object." So reflecting, the wise man assumed another appearance, and went out from that temple with tattered clothes, begrimed with dust, exclaiming, "Ah Bhadrá! Ah Bhadrá!" And immediately the people, who lived in that place, beholding him, raised a shout; "Here is Vidúshaka found!" And the king hearing of it came out from his palace in person, and seeing Vidúshaka in such a state, conducting himself like a madman, he laid hold on him and took him back to his palace. When he was there, whatever his servants and connexions, who were full of affection, said to him, he answered only by exclaiming, "Ah Bhadrá! Ah Bhadrá!" And when he was anointed with unguents prescribed by the physicians, he immediately defiled his body with much cinder-dust; and the food which the princess out of love offered to him with her own hands, he instantly threw down and trampled under foot. And in this condition Vidúshaka remained there some days, without taking interest in anything, tearing his own clothes, and playing the madman. And Ádityasena thought to himself; "His condition is past cure, so what is the use of torturing him? He may perhaps die, and then I should be guilty of the death of a Bráhman, whereas if he roams about at his will, he may possibly recover in course of time." So he let him go. Then the hero Vidúshaka, being allowed to roam where he liked, set out the next day at his leisure to find Bhadrá, taking with him the ring. And as he journeyed on day by day towards the East, he at last reached a city named Paundravardhana [261], which lay in his way as he travelled on; there he entered the house of a certain aged Bráhman woman, saying to her--"Mother, I wish to stop here one night." And she gave him a lodging and entertained him, and shortly after, she approached him, full of inward sorrow, and said to him--"My son, I hereby give thee all this house, therefore receive it, since I cannot now live any longer." He, astonished, said to her--"Why do you speak thus?" Then she said--"Listen, I will tell you the whole story," and so continued as follows--"My son, in this city there is a king named Devasena, and to him there was born one daughter, the ornament of the earth. The affectionate king said--'I have with difficulty obtained this one daughter',--so he gave her the name of Duhkalabdhiká. [262] "In course of time when she had grown up, the king gave her in marriage to the king of Kachchhapa, whom he had brought to his own palace. The king of Kachchhapa entered at night the private apartments of his bride, and died the very first time he entered them. Then the king much distressed, again gave his daughter in marriage to another king; he also perished in the same way [263]: and when through fear of the same fate other kings did not wish to marry her, the king gave this order to his general--'You must bring a man in turn from every single house in this country, so that one shall be supplied every day, and he must be a Bráhman or a Kshatriya. And after you have brought the man, you must cause him to enter by night into the apartment of my daughter; let us see how many will perish in this way, and how long it will go on. Whoever escapes shall afterwards become her husband; for it is impossible to bar the course of fate, whose dispensations are mysterious.' The general, having received this order from the king, brings a man every day turn about from every house in this city, and in this way hundreds of men have met their death in the apartment of the princess. Now I, whose merits in a former life must have been deficient, have one son here; his turn has to-day arrived to go to the palace to meet his death; and I being deprived of him must to-morrow enter the fire. Therefore, while I am still alive, I give to you, a worthy object, all my house with my own hand, in order that my lot may not again be unfortunate in my next birth." When she had said this, the resolute Vidúshaka answered; "If this is the whole matter, do not be despondent, mother, I will go there to-day, let your only son live. And do not feel any commiseration with regard to me, so as to say to yourself--'Why should I be the cause of this man's death?'--for owing to the magical power which I possess I run no risk by going there." When Vidúshaka had said this, that Bráhman woman said to him, "Then you must be some god come here as a reward for my virtue, so cause me, my son, to recover life, and yourself to gain felicity." When she had expressed her approval of his project in these words, he went in the evening to the apartment of the princess, together with a servant appointed by the general to conduct him. There he beheld the princess flushed with the pride of youth, like a creeper weighed down with the burden of its abundant flowers that had not yet been gathered. Accordingly, when night came, the princess went to her bed, and Vidúshaka remained awake in her apartment, holding in his hand the sword of the Fire-god, which came to him with a thought, saying to himself, "I will find out who it is that slays men here." And when people were all asleep, he saw a terrible Rákshasa coming from the side of the apartment where the entrance was, having first opened the door; and the Rákshasa standing at the entrance stretched forward into the room an arm, which had been the swift wand of Death to hundreds of men. But Vidúshaka in wrath springing forward, cut off suddenly the arm of the Rákshasa with one stroke of his sword. [264] And the Rákshasa immediately fled away through fear of his exceeding valour, with the loss of one arm, never again to return. When the princess awoke, she saw the severed arm lying there, and she was terrified, delighted and astonished at the same time. And in the morning the king Devasena saw the arm of the Rákshasa, which had fallen down after it was cut off, lying at the door of his daughter's apartments; in this way Vidúshaka, as if to say "Henceforth no other men must enter here"--fastened the door as it were with a long bar. [265] Accordingly the delighted king gave to Vidúshaka, who possessed this divine power, his daughter and much wealth; and Vidúshaka dwelt there some days with this fair one, as if with prosperity incarnate in bodily form. But one day he left the princess while asleep, and set out at night in haste to find his Bhadrá. And the princess in the morning was afflicted at not seeing him, but she was comforted by her father with the hope of his return. Vidúshaka journeying on day by day, at last reached the city of Támraliptá not far from the eastern sea. There he joined himself to a certain merchant, named Skandhadása who desired to cross the sea. In his company, embarking on a ship laden with much wealth belonging to the merchant, he set out on the ocean path. Then that ship was stopped suddenly when it had reached the middle of the ocean, as if it were held by something. And when it did not move, though the sea was propitiated with jewels, that merchant Skandhadása being grieved, said this: "Whosoever releases this ship of mine which is detained, to him I will give half of my own wealth and my daughter." The resolute-souled Vidúshaka, when he heard that, said, "I will descend into the water of the sea and search it, and I will set free in a moment this ship of yours which is stopped: but you must support me by ropes fastened round my body. And the moment the ship is set free, you must draw me up out of the midst of the sea by the supporting ropes." The merchant welcomed his speech with a promise to do what he asked, and the steersmen bound ropes under his armpits. Supported in that way Vidúshaka descended in the sea; a brave man never desponds when the moment for action has arrived. So taking in his hand the sword of the Fire-god, that came to him with a thought, the hero descended into the midst of the sea under the ship. And there he saw a giant asleep, and he saw that the ship was stopped by his leg. So he immediately cut off his leg with his sword, and at once the ship moved on freed from its impediment. [266] When the wicked merchant saw that, he cut the ropes, by which Vidúshaka was supported, through desire to save the wealth he had promised him; and went swiftly to the other shore of the ocean vast as his own avarice, in the ship which had thus been set free. Vidúshaka for his part, being in the midst of the sea with the supporting ropes cut, rose to the surface, and seeing how matters stood he calmly reflected for a moment; "Why did the merchant do this? Surely in this case the proverb is applicable; 'Ungrateful men blinded by desire of gain cannot see a benefit.' Well, it is now high time for me to display intrepidity, for if courage fails, even a small calamity cannot be overcome." Thus he reflected on that occasion, and then he got astride on the leg which he had cut off from the giant sleeping in the water, and by its help he crossed the sea, as if with a boat, paddling with his hands, for even destiny takes the part of men of distinguished valour. Then a voice from heaven addressed that mighty hero, who had come across the ocean, as Hanumán did for the sake of Ráma [267]; "Bravo, Vidúshaka! Bravo! who except thee is a man of valour? I am pleased with this courage of thine: therefore hear this. Thou hast reached a desolate coast here, but from this thou shalt arrive in seven days at the city of Kárkotaka; then thou shalt pluck up fresh spirits, and journeying quickly from that place, thou shalt obtain thy desire. But I am the Fire, the consumer of the oblations to gods and the spirits of deceased ancestors, whom thou didst before propitiate: and owing to my favour thou shalt feel neither hunger nor thirst,--therefore go prosperously and confidently;" having thus spoken, the voice ceased. And Vidúshaka, when he heard that, bowed, adoring the Fire-god, and set forth in high spirits, and on the seventh day he reached the city of Kárkotaka. And there he entered a monastery, inhabited by many noble Bráhmans from various lands, who were noted for hospitality. It was a wealthy foundation of the king of that place Áryavarman, and had annexed to it beautiful temples all made of gold. There all of the Bráhmans welcomed him, and one Bráhman took the guest to his chamber, and provided him with a bath, with food and with clothing. And while he was living in the monastery, he heard this proclamation being made by beat of drum in the evening; "Whatever Bráhman or Kshatriya wishes to-morrow morning to marry the king's daughter, let him spend a night in her chamber." When he heard that, he suspected the real reason, and being always fond of daring adventures, he desired immediately to go to the apartment of the princess. Thereupon the Bráhmans of the monastery said to him,--"Bráhman, do not be guilty of rashness. The apartment of the princess is not rightly so called, rather is it the open mouth of death, [268] for whoever enters it at night does not escape alive, and many daring men have thus met their death there." In spite of what these Bráhmans told him, Vidúshaka would not take their advice, [269] but went to the palace of the king with his servants. There the king Áryavarman, when he saw him, welcomed him in person, and at night he entered the apartment of the king's daughter, looking like the sun entering the fire. And he beheld that princess who seemed by her appearance to be attached to him, for she looked at him with tearful eye, and a sad look expressive of the grief produced by utter despair. And he remained awake there all night gazing intently, holding in his hand the sword of the Fire-god that came to him with a thought. And suddenly he beheld at the entrance a very terrible Rákshasa, extending his left hand because his right had been cut off. And when he saw him, he said to himself; "Here is that very Rákshasa, whose arm I cut off in the city of Paundravardhana. So I will not strike at his arm again, lest he should escape me and depart as before, and for this reason it is better for me to kill him." Thus reflecting, Vidúshaka ran forward and seized his hair, and was preparing to cut off his head, when suddenly the Rákshasa in extreme terror said to him; "Do not slay me, you are brave, therefore shew mercy." Vidúshaka let him go and said, "Who are you, and what are you about here?" Then the Rákshasa, being thus questioned by the hero, continued--"My name is Yamadanshtra, and I had two daughters, this is one, and she who lives in Paundravardhana is another. And Siva favoured me by laying on me this command; 'Thou must save the two princesses from marrying any one who is not a hero.' While thus engaged I first had an arm cut off at Paundravardhana, and now I have been conquered by you here, so this duty of mine is accomplished." When Vidúshaka heard this, he laughed, and said to him in reply; "It was I that cut off your arm there in Paundravardhana." The Rákshasa answered "Then you must be a portion of some divinity, not a mere man, I think it was for your sake that Siva did me the honour of laying that command upon me. So henceforth I consider you my friend, and when you call me to mind I will appear to you to ensure your success even in difficulties." In these words the Rákshasa Yamadanshtra out of friendship chose him as a sworn brother, and when Vidúshaka accepted his proposal, disappeared. Vidúshaka, for his part, was commended for his valour by the princess, and spent the night there in high spirits; and in the morning the king hearing of the incident and highly pleased, gave him his daughter as the conspicuous banner of his valour together with much wealth. Vidúshaka lived there some nights with her, as if with the goddess of prosperity, bound so firmly by his virtue [270] that she could not move a step. But one night he went off of his own accord from that place, longing for his beloved Bhadrá, for who that has tasted heavenly joys, can take pleasure in any other? And after he had left the town, he called to mind that Rákshasa, and said to him, who appeared the moment he called him to mind, and made him a bow,--"My friend, I must go to the land of the Siddhas on the Eastern mountain for the sake of the Vidyádharí named Bhadrá, so do you take me there." The Rákshasa said--"Very good"--so he ascended his shoulder, and travelled in that night over sixty yojanas of difficult country; and in the morning he crossed the Sítodá, a river that cannot be crossed by mortals, and without effort reached the border of the land of the Siddhas. [271] The Rákshasa said to him; "Here is the blessed mountain, called the mountain of the rising sun, in front of you, but I cannot set foot upon it as it is the home of the Siddhas." Then the Rákshasa being dismissed by him departed, and there Vidúshaka beheld a delightful lake, and he sat down on the bank of that lake beautiful with the faces of full-blown lotuses, which, as it were, uttered a welcome to him with the hum of roaming bees. And there he saw unmistakeable footsteps as of women, seeming to say to him, this is the path to the house of your beloved. While he was thinking to himself--"Mortals cannot set foot on this mountain, therefore I had better stop here a moment, and see whose footsteps these are"--there came to the lake to draw water many beautiful women with golden pitchers in their hands. So he asked the women, after they had filled their pitchers with water, in a courteous manner; "For whom are you taking this water?" And those women said to him--"Excellent Sir, a Vidyádharí of the name of Bhadrá is dwelling on this mountain, this water is for her to bathe in." Wonderful to say! Providence seeming to be pleased with resolute men, who attempt mighty enterprises, makes all things subserve their ends. For one of these women suddenly said to Vidúshaka; "Noble sir, please lift this pitcher on to my shoulder." He consented and when he lifted the pitcher on to her shoulder, the discreet man put into it the jewelled ring he had before received from Bhadrá, [272] and then he sat down again on the bank of that lake, while those women went with the water to the house of Bhadrá. And while they were pouring over Bhadrá the water of ablution, her ring fell into her lap. When Bhadrá saw it, she recognized it and asked those friends of hers whether they had seen any stranger about. And they gave her this answer; "We saw a young mortal on the banks of the lake, and he lifted this pitcher for us." Then Bhadrá said "Go and make him bathe and adorn himself, and quickly bring him here, for he is my husband who has arrived in this country." When Bhadrá had said this, her companions went and told Vidúshaka the state of the case, and after he had bathed brought him into her presence. And when he arrived, he saw after long separation Bhadrá who was eagerly expecting him, like the ripe blooming fruit of the tree of his own valour in visible form: she for her part rose up when she saw him, and offering him the argha, [273] so to speak, by sprinkling him with her tears of joy, she fastened her twining arms round his neck like a garland. When they embraced one another, the long accumulated affection [274] seemed to ooze from their limbs in the form of sweat, owing to excessive pressure. Then they sat down, and never satisfied with gazing at one another, they both, as it were, endured the agony of longing multiplied a hundred-fold. Bhadrá then said to Vidúshaka; "How did you come to this land?" And he thereupon gave her this answer; "Supported by affection for thee, I came here enduring many risks to my life, what else can I say, fair one?" When she heard that, seeing that his love was excessive, as it caused him to disregard his own life, Bhadrá said to him who through affection had endured the utmost, "My husband, I care not for my friends, nor my magic powers; you are my life, and I am your slave, my lord, bought by you with your virtues." Then Vidúshaka said, "Then come with me to live in Ujjayiní, my beloved, leaving all this heavenly joy." Bhadrá immediately accepted his proposal, and gave up all her magic gifts, (which departed from her the moment she formed that resolution,) with no more regret than if they had been straw. Then Vidúshaka rested with her there during that night, being waited on by her friend Yogesvarí, and in the morning the successful hero descended with her from the mountain of the sun-rise, and again called to mind the Rákshasa Yamadanshtra; the Rákshasa came the moment he was thought of, and Vidúshaka told him the direction of the journey he had to take, and then ascended his shoulder, having previously placed Bhadrá there. She too endured patiently to be placed on the shoulder of a very loathsome Rákshasa; what will not women do when mastered by affection? So Vidúshaka, mounted on the Rákshasa, set out with his beloved, and again reached the city of Kárkotaka; and there men beheld him with fear inspired by the sight of the Rákshasa; and when he saw king Áryavarman, he demanded from him his daughter; and after receiving that princess surrendered by her father, whom he had won with his arm, he set forth from that city in the same style, mounted on the Rákshasa. And after he had gone some distance, he found that wicked merchant on the shore of the sea, who long ago cut the ropes when he had been thrown into the sea. And he took, together with his wealth, his daughter, whom he had before won as a reward for setting free the ship in the sea. And he considered the depriving that villain of his wealth as equivalent to putting him to death, for grovelling souls often value their hoards more than their life. Then mounted on the Rákshasa as on a chariot, taking with him that daughter of the merchant, he flew up into the heaven with the princess and Bhadrá, and journeying through the air, he crossed the ocean, which like his valour was full of boisterous impetuosity, exhibiting it to his fair ones. [275] And he again reached the city of Paundravardhana, beheld with astonishment by all as he rode on a Rákshasa. There he greeted his wife, the daughter of Devasena, who had long desired his arrival, whom he had won by the defeat of the Rákshasa; and though her father tried to detain him, yet longing for his native land, he took her also with him, and set out for Ujjayiní. And owing to the speed of the Rákshasa, he soon reached that city, which appeared like his satisfaction at beholding his home, exhibited in visible form. There Vidúshaka was seen by the people, perched on the top of that huge Rákshasa, whose vast frame was illuminated by the beauty of his wives seated on his shoulder, as the moon [276] rising over the eastern mountain with gleaming herbs on its summit. The people being astonished and terrified, his father-in-law the king Ádityasena came to hear of it, and went out from the city. But Vidúshaka, when he saw him, quickly descended from the Rákshasa, and after prostrating himself approached the king; the king too welcomed him. Then Vidúshaka caused all his wives to come down from the shoulder of the Rákshasa, and released him to wander where he would. And after that Rákshasa had departed, Vidúshaka accompanied by his wives entered the king's palace together with the king his father-in-law. There he delighted by his arrival that first wife of his, the daughter of that king, who suffered a long regret for his absence. And when the king said to him; "How did you obtain these wives, and who is that Rákshasa?" he told him the whole story. Then that king pleased with his son-in-law's valour, and knowing what it was expedient to do, gave him half his kingdom; and immediately Vidúshaka, though a Bráhman, became a monarch, with a lofty white umbrella and chowries waving on both sides of him. And then the city of Ujjayiní was joyful, full of the sound of festive drums and music, uttering shouts of delight. Thus he obtained the mighty rank of a king, and gradually conquered the whole earth, so that his foot was worshipped by all kings, and with Bhadrá for his consort he long lived in happiness with those wives of his, who were content, having abandoned jealousy. Thus resolute men when fortune favours them, find their own valour a great and successful stupefying charm that forcibly draws towards them prosperity. When they heard from the mouth of the king of Vatsa this varied tale [277] full of marvellous incident, all his ministers sitting by his side and his two wives experienced excessive delight. CHAPTER XIX. Then Yaugandharáyana said to the king of Vatsa; "King, it is known that you possess the favour of destiny, as well as courage; and I also have taken some trouble about the right course of policy to be pursued in this matter: therefore carry out as soon as possible your plan of conquering the regions." When his chief minister had said this to him, the king of Vatsa answered,--"Admitting that this is true, nevertheless the accomplishment of auspicious undertakings is always attended with difficulties, accordingly I will with this object propitiate Siva by austerities, for without his favour, how can I obtain what I desire?" When they heard that, his ministers approved of his performing austerities, as the chiefs of the monkeys did in the case of Ráma, when he was intent upon building a bridge over the ocean. And after the king had fasted for three nights, engaged in austerities with the queens and the ministers, Siva said to him in a dream--"I am satisfied with thee, therefore rise up, thou shalt obtain an unimpeded triumph, and shalt soon have a son who shall be king of all the Vidyádharas." Then the king woke up, with all his fatigue removed by the favour of Siva, like the new moon increased by the rays of the sun. And in the morning he delighted his ministers by telling them that dream, and the two queens, tender as flowers, who were worn out by the fasting they had endured to fulfil the vow. And they were refreshed by the description of his dream, well worthy of being drunk in with the ears, and its effect was like that of medicine, [278] for it restored their strength. The king obtained by his austerities a power equal to that of his ancestors, and his wives obtained the saintly renown of matrons devoted to their husband. But on the morrow when the feast at the end of the fast was celebrated, and the citizens were beside themselves with joy, Yaugandharáyana thus addressed the king--"You are fortunate, O king, in that the holy god Siva is so well disposed towards you, so proceed now to conquer your enemies, and then enjoy the prosperity won by your arm. For when prosperity is acquired by a king's own virtues, it remains fixed in his family, for blessings acquired by the virtues of the owners are never lost. And for this reason it was that that treasure long buried in the ground, which had been accumulated by your ancestors and then lost, was recovered by you. Moreover with reference to this matter hear the following tale:" Story of Devadása. Long ago there was in the city of Pátaliputra a certain merchant's son, sprung from a rich family, and his name was Devadása. And he married a wife from the city of Paundravardhana, the daughter of some rich merchant. When his father died, Devadása became in course of time addicted to vice, and lost all his wealth at play. And then his wife's father came and took away to his own house in Paundravardhana his daughter, who was distressed by poverty and the other hardships of her lot. Gradually the husband began to be afflicted by his misfortunes, and wishing to be set up in his business, he came to Paundravardhana to ask his father-in-law to lend him the capital which he required. And having arrived in the evening at the city of Paundravardhana, seeing that he was begrimed with dust, and in tattered garments, he thought to himself, "How can I enter my father-in-law's house in this state? In truth for a proud man death is preferable to exhibiting poverty before one's relations." Thus reflecting, he went into the market-place, and remained outside a certain shop during the night, crouching with contracted body, like the lotus which is folded at night. And immediately he saw a certain young merchant open the door of that shop and enter it. And a moment after he saw a woman come with noiseless step to that same place, and rapidly enter. And while he fixed his eyes on the interior of the shop in which a light was burning, he recognized in that woman his own wife. Then Devadása seeing that wife of his repairing to another man, and bolting the door, being smitten with the thunderbolt of grief, thought to himself; "A man deprived of wealth loses even his own body, how then can he hope to retain the affections of a woman? For women have fickleness implanted in their nature by an invariable law, like the flashes of lightning. So here I have an instance of the misfortunes which befall men who fall into the sea of vice, and of the behaviour of an independent woman who lives in her father's house." Thus he reflected as he stood outside, and he seemed to himself to hear his wife confidentially conversing with her lover. So he applied his ear to the door, and that wicked woman was at the moment saying in secret to the merchant, her paramour; "Listen; as I am so fond of you, I will to-day tell you a secret; my husband long ago had a great-grandfather named Víravarman; in the courtyard of his house he secretly buried in the ground four jars of gold, one jar in each of the four corners. And he then informed one of his wives of that fact, and his wife at the time of her death told her daughter-in-law, she told it to her daughter-in-law who was my mother-in-law, and my mother-in-law told it to me. So this is an oral tradition in my husband's family, descending through the mothers-in-law. But I did not tell it to my husband though he is poor, for he is odious to me as being addicted to gambling, but you are above all dear to me. So go to my husband's town and buy the house from him with money, and after you have obtained that gold, come here and live happily with me." When the merchant, her paramour, heard this from that treacherous woman, he was much pleased with her, thinking that he had obtained a treasure without any trouble. Devadása for his part, who was outside, bore henceforth the hope of wealth, so to speak, riveted in his heart with those piercing words of his wicked wife. So he went thence quickly to the city of Pátaliputra, and after reaching his house, he took that treasure and appropriated it. Then that merchant, who was in secret the paramour of his wife, arrived in that country, on pretence of trading, but in reality eager to obtain the treasure. So he bought that house from Devadása, who made it over to him for a large sum of money. Then Devadása set up another home, and cunningly brought back that wife of his from the house of his father-in-law. When this had been done, that wicked merchant, who was the lover of his wife, not having obtained the treasure, came and said to him; "This house of yours is old, and I do not like it. So give me back my money, and take back your own house." Thus he demanded, and Devadása refused, and being engaged in a violent altercation, they both went before the king. In his presence Devadása poured forth the whole story of his wife, painful to him as venom concealed in his breast. Then the king had his wife summoned, and after ascertaining the truth of the case, he punished that adulterous merchant with the loss of all his property; Devadása for his part cut off the nose of that wicked wife, and married another, and then lived happily in his native city on the treasure he had obtained. "Thus treasure obtained by virtuous methods is continued to a man's posterity, but treasure of another kind is as easily melted away as a flake of snow when the rain begins to fall. Therefore a man should endeavour to obtain wealth by lawful methods, but a king especially, since wealth is the root of the tree of empire. So honour all your ministers according to custom in order that you may obtain success, and then accomplish the conquest of the regions, so as to gain opulence in addition to virtue. For out of regard to the fact that you are allied by marriage with your two powerful fathers-in-law, few kings will oppose you, most will join you. However, this king of Benares named Brahmadatta is always your enemy, therefore conquer him first; when he is conquered, conquer the eastern quarter, and gradually all the quarters, and exalt the glory of the race of Pándu gleaming white like a lotus." When his chief minister said this to him, the king of Vatsa consented, eager for conquest, and ordered his subjects to prepare for the expedition; and he gave the sovereignty of the country of Videha to his brother-in-law Gopálaka, by way of reward for his assistance, thereby shewing his knowledge of policy; and he gave to Sinhavarman the brother of Padmávatí, who came to his assistance with his forces, the land of Chedi, treating him with great respect; and the monarch summoned Pulindaka the friendly king of the Bhillas, [279] who filled the quarters with his hordes, as the rainy season fills them with clouds; and while the preparation for the expedition was going on in the great king's territories, a strange anxiety was produced in the heart of his enemies; but Yaugandharáyana first sent spies to Benares to find out the proceedings of king Brahmadatta; then on an auspicious day, being cheered with omens portending victory, the king of Vatsa first marched against Brahmadatta in the Eastern quarter, having mounted [280] a tall victorious elephant, with a lofty umbrella on its back, as a furious lion ascends a mountain with one tree in full bloom on it. And his expedition was facilitated [281] by the autumn which arrived as a harbinger of good fortune, and shewed him an easy path, across rivers flowing with diminished volume, and he filled the face of the land with his shouting forces, so as to produce the appearance of a sudden rainy season without clouds; and then the cardinal points resounding with the echoes of the roaring of his host, seemed to be telling one another their fears of his coming, and his horses, collecting the brightness of the sun on their golden trappings, moved along followed, as it were, by the fire pleased with the purification of his army. [282] And his elephants with their ears like white chowries, and with streams of ichor flowing from their temples reddened by being mixed with vermilion, appeared, as he marched along, like the sons of the mountains, streaked with white clouds of autumn, and pouring down streams of water coloured with red mineral, sent by the parent hills, in their fear, to join his expedition. And the dust from the earth concealed the brightness of the sun, as if thinking that the king could not endure the effulgent splendour of rivals. And the two queens followed the king step by step on the way, like the goddess of Fame, and the Fortune of Victory, attracted by his politic virtues. [283] The silk of his host's banners, tossed to and fro in the wind, seemed to say to his enemies,--"Bend in submission, or flee." Thus he marched, beholding the districts full of blown white lotuses, like the uplifted hoods of the serpent Sesha [284] terrified with fear of the destruction of the world. In the meanwhile those spies, commissioned by Yaugandharáyana, assuming the vows of scull-bearing worshippers of Siva, reached the city of Benares. And one of them, who was acquainted with the art of juggling, exhibiting his skill, assumed the part of teacher, and the others passed themselves off as his pupils. And they celebrated that pretended teacher, who subsisted on alms, from place to place, saying, "This master of ours is acquainted with past, present, and future." Whatever that sage predicted, in the way of fires and so on, to those who came to consult him about the future, his pupils took care to bring about secretly; so he became famous. He gained complete ascendancy over the mind of a certain Rájpút courtier there, a favourite of the king's, who was won over by this mean skill of the teacher's. And when the war with the king of Vatsa came on, the king Brahmadatta began to consult him by the agency of the Rájpút, so that he learnt the secrets of the government. Then the minister of Brahmadatta, Yogakarandaka, laid snares in the path of the king of Vatsa as he advanced. He tainted, by means of poison and other deleterious substances, the trees, flowering creepers, water and grass all along the line of march. And he sent poison-damsels [285] as dancing girls among the enemy's host, and he also despatched nocturnal assassins into their midst. But that spy, who had assumed the character of a prophet, found all this out, and then quickly informed Yaugandharáyana of it by means of his companions. Yaugandharáyana for his part, when he found it out, purified at every step along the line of march the poisoned grass, water, and so on, by means of corrective antidotes, and forbade in the camp the society of strange women, and with the help of Rumanvat he captured and put to death those assassins. When he heard of that, Brahmadatta having found all his stratagems fail, came to the conclusion that the king of Vatsa, who filled with his forces the whole country, was hard to overcome. After deliberating and sending an ambassador, he came in person to the king of Vatsa who was encamped near, placing his clasped hands upon his head in token of submission. The king of Vatsa for his part, when the king of Benares came to him, bringing a present, received him with respect and kindness, for heroes love submission. He being thus subdued, that mighty king went on pacifying the East, making the yielding bend, but extirpating the obstinate, as the wind treats the trees, until he reached the Eastern ocean, rolling with quivering waves, as it were, trembling with terror on account of the Ganges having been conquered. On its extreme shore he set up a pillar of victory, [286] looking like the king of the serpents emerging from the world below to crave immunity for Pátála. Then the people of Kalinga [287] submitted and paid tribute, and acted as the king's guides, so that the renown of that renowned one ascended the mountain of Mahendra. Having conquered a forest of kings by means of his elephants, which seemed like the peaks of the Vindhya come to him terrified at the conquest of Mahendra, he went to the southern quarter. There he made his enemies cease their threatening murmurs and take to the mountains, strengthless [288] and pale, treating them as the season of autumn treats the clouds. The Káverí being crossed by him in his victorious onset, and the glory of the king of the Chola [289] race being surpassed, were befouled at the same time. He no longer allowed the Muralas [290] to exalt their heads, for they were completely beaten down by tributes imposed on them. Though his elephants drank the waters of the Godávarí divided into seven streams, they seemed to discharge them again seven-fold in the form of ichor. Then the king crossed the Revá and reached Ujjayiní, and entered the city, being made by king Chandamahásena to precede him. And there he became the target of the amorous sidelong glances of the ladies of Málava, who shine with twofold beauty by loosening their braided hair and wearing garlands, and he remained there in great comfort, hospitably entertained by his father-in-law, so that he even forgot the long-regretted enjoyments of his native land. And Vásavadattá was continually at her parents' side, remembering her childhood, seeming despondent even in her happiness. The king Chandamahásena was as much delighted at meeting Padmávatí, as he was at meeting again his own daughter. But after he had rested some days, the delighted king of Vatsa, reinforced by the troops of his father-in-law, marched towards the western region; his curved sword [291] was surely the smoke of the fire of his valour, since it dimmed with gushing tears the eyes of the women of Láta; the mountain of Mandara, when its woods were broken through by his elephants, seemed to tremble lest he should root it up to churn the sea. [292] Surely he was a splendid luminary excelling the sun and other orbs, since in his victorious career he enjoyed a glorious rising even in the western quarter. Then he went to Alaká, distinguished by the presence of Kuvera, displaying its beauties before him, that is to say, to the quarter made lovely by the smile of Kailása, and having subdued the king of Sindh, at the head of his cavalry he destroyed the Mlechchhas as Ráma destroyed the Rákshasas at the head of the army of monkeys; the cavalry squadrons of the Turushkas [293] were broken on the masses of his elephants, as the waves of the agitated sea on the woods that line the sea-shore. The august hero received the tribute of his foes, and cut off the head of the wicked king of the Párasíkas [294] as Vishnu did that of Ráhu. [295] His glory, after he had inflicted a defeat on the Húnas [296], made the four quarters resound, and poured down the Himálaya like a second Ganges. When the hosts of the monarch, whose enemies were still from fear, were shouting, a hostile answer was heard only in the hollows of the rocks. It is not strange that then the king of Kámarúpa, [297] bending before him with head deprived of the umbrella, was without shade and also without brightness. Then that sovereign returned, followed by elephants presented by the king of Kámarúpa, resembling moving rocks made over to him by the mountains by way of tribute. Having thus conquered the earth, the king of Vatsa with his attendants reached the city of the king of Magadha the father of Padmávatí. But the king of Magadha, when he arrived with the queens, was as joyous as the god of love when the moon illuminates the night. Vásavadattá, who had lived with him before without being recognised, was now made known to him, and he considered her deserving of the highest regard. Then that victorious king of Vatsa, having been honoured by the king of Magadha with his whole city, followed by the minds of all the people which pursued him out of affection, having swallowed the surface of the earth with his mighty army, returned to Lávánaka in his own dominions. CHAPTER XX. Then the king of Vatsa, while encamped in Lávánaka to rest his army, said in secret to Yaugandharáyana, "Through your sagacity I have conquered all the kings upon the earth, and they being won over by politic devices will not conspire against me. But this king of Benares, Brahmadatta, is an ill-conditioned fellow, and he alone, I think, will plot against me; what confidence can be reposed in the wicked-minded?" Then Yaugandharáyana, being spoken to in this strain by the king, answered, "O king, Brahmadatta will not plot against you again, for when he was conquered and submitted, you shewed him great consideration; and what sensible man will injure one who treats him well? Whoever does, will find that it turns out unfortunately for himself, and on this point, listen to what I am going to say; I will tell you a tale." Story of Phalabhúti. There was once on a time in the land of Padma an excellent Bráhman of high renown, named Agnidatta, who lived on a grant of land given by the king. He had born to him two sons, the elder named Somadatta, and the second Vaisvánaradatta. The elder of them was of fine person, but ignorant, and ill-conducted, but the second was sagacious, well-conducted, and fond of study. And those two after they were married, and their father had died, divided that royal grant and the rest of his possessions between them, each taking half; and the younger of the two was honoured by the king, but the elder Somadatta, who was of unsteady character, remained a husbandman. One day a Bráhman, who had been a friend of his father's, seeing him engaged in conversation with some Súdras, thus addressed him, "Though you are the son of Agnidatta, you behave like a Súdra, you blockhead, and you are not ashamed, though you see your own brother in favour with the king." Somadatta, when he heard that, flew into a passion, and forgetting the respect due to the old man, ran upon him, and gave him a kick. Then the Bráhman, enraged on account of the kick, immediately called on some other Bráhmans to bear witness to it, and went and complained to the king. The king sent out soldiers to take Somadatta prisoner, but they, when they went out, were slain by his friends, who had taken up arms. Then the king sent out a second force, and captured Somadatta, and blinded by wrath ordered him to be impaled. Then that Bráhman, as he was being lifted on to the stake, suddenly fell to the ground, as if he were flung down by somebody. And those executioners, when preparing to lift him on again, became blind, for the fates protect one who is destined to be prosperous. The king, as soon as he heard of the occurrence, was pleased, and being entreated by the younger brother, spared the life of Somadatta; then Somadatta, having escaped death, desired to go to another land with his wife on account of the insulting treatment of the king, and when his relations in a body disapproved of his departure, he determined to live without the half of the king's grant, which he resigned; then, finding no other means of support, he desired to practise husbandry, and went to the forest on a lucky day to find a piece of ground suitable for it. There he found a promising piece of ground, from which it seemed likely that an abundant crop could be produced, and in the middle of it he saw an Asvattha tree of great size. Desiring ground fit for cultivation, and seeing that tree to be cool like the rainy season, as it kept off the rays of the sun with its auspicious thick shade, he was much delighted. He said, "I am a faithful votary of that being, whoever he may be, that presides over this tree," and walking round the tree so as to keep it on his right, he bowed before it. [298] Then he yoked a pair of bullocks, and recited a prayer for success, and after making an oblation to that tree, he began to plough there. And he remained under that tree night and day, and his wife always brought him his meals there. And in course of time, when the corn was ripe that piece of ground was, as fate would have it, unexpectedly plundered by the troops of a hostile kingdom. Then the hostile force having departed, the courageous man, though his corn was destroyed, comforted his weeping wife, gave her the little that remained, and after making an offering as before, remained in the same place, under the same tree. For that is the character of resolute men, that their perseverance is increased by misfortune. Then one night, when he was sleepless from anxiety and alone, a voice came out from that Asvattha tree, "O Somadatta, I am pleased with thee, therefore go to the kingdom of a king named Ádityaprabha in the land of Sríkantha; continually repeat at the door of that king, (after reciting the form of words used at the evening oblation to Agni,) the following sentence--'I am Phalabhúti by name, a Bráhman, hear what I say: he who does good will obtain good, and he who does evil, will obtain evil;'--by repeating this there thou shalt attain great prosperity; and now learn from me the form of words used at the evening oblation to Agni; I am a Yaksha." Having said this, and having immediately taught him by his power the form of words used in the evening oblation, the voice in the tree ceased. And the next morning the wise Somadatta set out with his wife, having received the name of Phalabhúti by imposition of the Yaksha, and after crossing various forests uneven and labyrinthine as his own calamities, [299] he reached the land of Sríkantha. There he recited at the king's door the form of words used at the evening oblation, and then he announced, as he had been directed, his name as Phalabhúti, and uttered the following speech which excited the curiosity of the people, "The doer of good will obtain good, but the doer of evil, evil." And after he had said this frequently, the king Ádityaprabha, being full of curiosity, caused Phalabhúti to be brought into the palace, and he entered, and over and over again repeated that same speech in the presence of the king. That made the king and all his courtiers laugh. And the king and his chiefs gave him garments and ornaments, and also villages, for the amusement of great men is not without fruit; and so Phalabhúti, having been originally poor, immediately obtained by the favour of the Guhyaka [300] wealth bestowed by the king; and by continually reciting the words mentioned above, he became a special favourite of the monarch for the regal mind loves diversion. And gradually he attained to a position of love and respect in the palace, in the kingdom, and in the female apartments, as being beloved by the king. One day that king Ádityaprabha returned from hunting in the forest, and quickly entered his harem; his suspicions were aroused by the confusion of the warders, and when he entered, he saw the queen named Kuvalayávalí engaged in worshipping the gods, stark naked, [301] with her hair standing on end, and her eyes half-closed, with a large patch of red lead upon her forehead, with her lips trembling in muttering charms, in the midst of a great circle [302] strewed with various coloured powders, after offering a horrible oblation of blood, spirits, and human flesh. She for her part, when the king entered, in her confusion seized her garments, and when questioned by him immediately answered, after craving pardon for what she had done, "I have gone through this ceremony in order that you might obtain prosperity, and now, my lord, listen to the way in which I learnt these rites, and the secret of my magic skill." Story of Kuvalayávalí and the witch Kálarátri. Long ago, when I was living in my father's house, I was thus addressed, while enjoying myself in the garden during the spring festival, by my friends who met me there; "There is in this pleasure-garden an image of Ganesa, the god of gods, in the middle of an arbour made of trees, and that image grants boons, and its power has been tested. Approach with devout faith that granter of petitions, and worship him, in order that you may soon obtain without difficulty a suitable husband." When I heard that, I asked my friends in my ignorance; "What! do maidens obtain husbands by worshipping Ganesa?" Then they answered me; "Why do you ask such a question? Without worshipping him no one obtains any success in this world; and in proof of it we will give you an instance of his power, listen." Saying this, my friends told me the following tale: Story of the birth of Kártikeya. Long ago, when Indra oppressed by Táraka was desirous or obtaining a son from Siva to act as general of the gods, and the god of love had been consumed, [303] Gaurí by performing austerities sought and gained as a husband the three-eyed god, who was engaged in a very long and terrible course of mortification. Then she desired the obtaining of a son, and the return to life of the god of love, but she did not remember to worship Ganesa in order to gain her end. So, when his beloved asked that her desire should be granted, Siva said to her, "My dear goddess, the god of love was born long ago from the mind of Brahmá, and no sooner was he born than he said in his insolence, 'Whom shall I make mad? (kan darpayámi).' So Brahmá called him Kandarpa, and said to him, 'Since thou art very confident, my son, avoid attacking Siva only, lest thou receive death from him.' Though the Creator gave him this warning, the ill-disposed god came to trouble my austerities, therefore he was burnt up by me, and he cannot be created again with his body. [304] But I will create by my power a son from you, for I do not require the might of love in order to have offspring as mortals do." While the god, whose ensign is a bull, [305] was saying this to Párvatí, Brahmá accompanied by Indra appeared before him; and when he had been praised by them, and entreated to bring about the destruction of the Asura Táraka, Siva consented to beget on the goddess a son of his body. And, at their entreaty, he consented that the god of love should be born without body in the minds of animate creatures, to prevent the destruction of created beings. And he gave permission to love to influence his own mind; pleased with that, the Creator went away and Párvatí was delighted. But when, after the lapse of hundreds of years, there appeared no hope of Párvatí having any offspring, the god by the order of Brahmá called to mind Agni; Agni for his part, the moment they called him to mind, thinking that the foe of the god of love was irresistible, and afraid to interfere, fled from the gods and entered the water; but the frogs being burned by his heat told the gods, who were searching for him, that he was in the water; then Agni by his curse immediately made the speech of the frogs thenceforth inarticulate, and again disappearing fled to a place of refuge. There the gods found him, concealed in the trunk of a tree, in the form of a snail, for he was betrayed by the elephants and parrots, and he appeared to them. And after making by a curse the tongues of the parrots and the elephants incapable of clear utterance, he promised to do what the gods requested, having been praised by them. So he went to Siva, and after inclining humbly before him, through fear of being cursed, he informed him of the commission the gods had given him. Siva thereupon deposited the embryo in the fire. Then the goddess distracted with anger and grief, said, "I have not obtained a son from you after all," and Siva said to her; "An obstacle has arisen in this matter, because you neglected to worship Ganesa, the lord of obstacles; therefore adore him now in order that a child may be born to us of the fire." When thus addressed by Siva, the goddess worshipped Ganesa, and the fire became pregnant with that germ of Siva. Then, bearing that embryo of Siva, the fire shone even in the day as if the sun had entered into it. And then it discharged into the Ganges the germ difficult to bear, and the Ganges, by the order of Siva, placed it in a sacrificial cavity on mount Meru. [306] There that germ was watched by the Ganas, Siva's attendants, and after a thousand years had developed it, it became a boy with six faces. Then, drinking milk with his six mouths from the breasts of the six Krittikás [307] appointed by Gaurí to nurse him, the boy grew big in a few days. In the meanwhile, the king of the gods, overcome by the Asura Táraka, fled to the difficult peaks of mount Meru, abandoning the field of battle. And the gods together with the Rishis went to the six-mouthed Kártikeya for protection, and he, defending the gods, remained surrounded by them. When Indra heard that, he was troubled, considering that his kingdom was taken from him, and being jealous he went and made war upon Kártikeya. But from the body of Kártikeya, when struck by the thunderbolt of Indra, there sprang two sons called Sákha and Visákha, both of incomparable might. Then Siva came to his offspring Kártikeya, who exceeded Indra in might, and forbade him and his two sons to fight, and rebuked him in the following words: "Thou wast born in order that thou mightest slay Táraka and protect the realm of Indra, therefore do thy own duty." Then Indra was delighted and immediately bowed before him, and commenced the ceremony of consecrating by ablutions Kártikeya as general of his forces. But when he himself lifted the pitcher for that purpose, his arm became stiff, wherefore he was despondent, but Siva said to him; "Thou didst not worship the elephant-faced god, when thou desiredst a general; it was for this reason that thou hast met with this obstacle, therefore adore him now." Indra, when he heard that, did so, and his arm was set free, and he duly performed the joyful ceremony of consecrating the general. And not long after, the general slew the Asura Táraka, and the gods rejoiced at having accomplished their object, and Gaurí at having obtained a son. So, princess, you see even the gods are not successful without honouring Ganesa, therefore adore him when you desire a blessing. After hearing this from my companions I went, my husband, and worshipped an image of Ganesa, that stood in a lonely part of the garden, and after I had finished the worship, I suddenly saw that those companions of mine had flown up by their own power and were disporting themselves in the fields of the air; when I saw that, out of curiosity I called them and made them come down from the heaven, and when I asked them about the nature of their magic power, they immediately gave me this answer; "These are the magic powers of witches' spells, and they are due to the eating of human flesh, and our teacher in this is a Bráhman woman known by the name of Kálarátri." When my companions said this to me, I being desirous of acquiring the power of a woman that can fly in the air, but afraid of eating human flesh, was for a time in a state of hesitation; then eager to possess that power, I said to those friends of mine, "Cause me also to be instructed in this science." And immediately they went and brought, in accordance with my request, Kálarátri, who was of repulsive appearance. Her eyebrows met, [308] she had dull eyes, a depressed flat nose, large cheeks, widely parted lips, projecting teeth, a long neck, pendulous breasts, a large belly, and broad expanded feet. She appeared as if the creator had made her as a specimen of his skill in producing ugliness. When I fell at her feet, after bathing and worshipping Ganesa, she made me take off my clothes and perform, standing in a circle, a horrible ceremony in honour of Siva in his terrific form, and after she had sprinkled me with water, she gave me various spells known to her, and human flesh to eat that had been offered in sacrifice to the gods; so, after I had eaten man's flesh and had received the various spells, I immediately flew up, naked as I was, into the heaven with my friends, and after I had amused myself, I descended from the heaven by command of my teacher, and I, the princess, went to my own apartments. Thus even in my girlhood I became one of the society of witches, and in our meetings we devoured the bodies of many men. Story of Sundaraka. But listen, king, to a story which is a digression from my main tale. That Kálarátri had for husband a Bráhman of the name of Vishnusvámin, and he, being an instructor in that country, taught many pupils who came from different lands, as he was skilful in the exposition of the Vedas. And among his pupils he had one young man of the name of Sundaraka, the beauty of whose person was set off by his excellent character; one day the teacher's wife Kálarátri being love-sick secretly courted him, her husband having gone away to some place or other. Truly Love makes great sport with ugly people as his laughing-stocks, in that she, not considering her own appearance, fell in love with Sundaraka. But he, though tempted, detested with his whole soul the crime; however women may misbehave, the mind of the good is not to be shaken. Then, he having departed, Kálarátri in a rage tore her own body with bites and scratches, and she remained weeping, [309] with dress and locks disordered, until the teacher Vishnusvámin entered the house. And when he had entered, she said to him,--"Look, my Lord, to this state has Sundaraka reduced me, endeavouring to gain possession of me by force." As soon as the teacher heard that, he was inflamed with anger, for confidence in women robs even wise men of their power of reflection; and when Sundaraka returned home at night, he ran upon him, and he and his pupils kicked him, and struck him with fists, and sticks; moreover when he was senseless with the blows, he ordered his pupils to fling him out in the road by night, without regard to his safety, and they did so. Then Sundaraka was gradually restored to consciousness by the cool night breeze, and seeing himself thus outraged he reflected, "Alas! the instigation of a woman troubles the minds even of those men whose souls are not under the dominion of passion, as a storm disturbs the repose of lakes which are not reached by dust. [310] This is why that teacher of mine in the excess of his anger, though old and wise, was so inconsiderate as to treat me so cruelly. But the fact is, lust and wrath are appointed in the dispensation of fate, from the very birth even of wise Bráhmans, to be the two bolts on the door of their salvation. [311] For were not the sages long ago angry with Siva in the devadáru-wood, being afraid that their wives would go astray? And they did not know that he was a god, as he had assumed the appearance of a Buddhist mendicant, with the intention of shewing Umá that even Rishis do not possess self-restraint. But after they had cursed him, they discovered that he was the ruling god, that shakes the three worlds, and they fled to him for protection. So it appears that even hermits injure others, when beguiled by the six faults that are enemies of man, [312] lust, wrath, and their crew, much more so Bráhmans learned in the Vedas." Thinking thus, Sundaraka from fear of robbers during the night, climbed up and took shelter in a neighbouring cow-house. And while he was crouching unobserved in a corner of that cow-house, Kálarátri came into it with a drawn sword in her hand, [313] terrible from the hissing she uttered, with wind and flames issuing from her mouth and eyes, accompanied by a crowd of witches. Then the terrified Sundaraka, beholding Kálarátri arriving in such a guise, called to mind the spells that drive away Rákshasas, and bewildered by these spells Kálarátri did not see him crouching secretly in a corner, with his limbs drawn together from fear. Then Kálarátri with her friends recited the spells that enable witches to fly, and they flew up into the air, cow-house and all. And Sundaraka heard the spell and remembered it; [314] but Kálarátri with the cow-house quickly flew through the air to Ujjayiní: there she made it descend by a spell in a garden of herbs, and went and sported in the cemetery among the witches: and immediately Sundaraka being hungry went down into the garden of herbs, and made a meal on some roots which he dug up, and after he had allayed the pangs of hunger, and returned as before to the cow-house, Kálarátri came back in the middle of the night from her meeting. Then she got up into the cow-house, and, just as before, she flew through the air with her pupils by the power of her magic, and returned home in the night. And after she had replaced the cow-house, which she made use of as a vehicle, in its original situation, and had dismissed those followers of hers, she entered her sleeping apartment. And Sundaraka, having thus passed through that night, astonished at the troubles he had undergone, in the morning left the cow-house and went to his friends; there he related what had happened to him, and, though desirous of going to some other country, he was comforted by those friends and took up his abode among them, and leaving the dwelling of his teacher, and taking his meals in the almshouse for Bráhmans, he lived there enjoying himself at will in the society of his friends. One day Kálarátri, having gone out to buy some necessaries for her house, saw Sundaraka in the market. And being once more love-sick, she went up to him and said to him a second time--"Sundaraka, shew me affection even now, for my life depends on you." When she said this to him, the virtuous Sundaraka said to her, "Do not speak thus, it is not right; you are my mother, as being the wife of my teacher." Then Kálarátri said; "If you know what is right, then grant me my life, for what righteousness is greater than the saving of life?" Then Sundaraka said--"Mother, do not entertain this wish, for what righteousness can there be in approaching the bed of my preceptor." Thus repulsed by him, and threatening him in her wrath, she went home, after tearing her upper garment with her own hand, and shewing the garment to her husband, she said to him, "Look, Sundaraka ran upon me, and tore this garment of mine in this fashion;" so her husband went in his anger and stopped Sundaraka's supply of food at the almshouse, by saying that he was a felon who deserved death. Then Sundaraka in disgust, being desirous of leaving that country, and knowing the spell for flying up into the air which he had learnt in the cow-house, but being conscious that he had forgotten, after hearing it, the spell for descending from the sky, which he had been taught there also, again went in the night to that deserted cow-house, and while he was there, Kálarátri came as before, and flying up in the cow-house in the same way as on the former occasion, travelled through the air to Ujjayiní, and having made the cow-house descend by a spell in the garden of herbs, went again to the cemetery to perform her nightly ceremonies. And Sundaraka heard that spell again, but failed again to retain it; for how can magic practices be thoroughly learnt without explanation by a teacher? Then he ate some roots there, and put some others in the cow-house to take away with him, and remained there as before; then Kálarátri came, and climbing up into the cow-house, flew through the air by night, and stopping the vehicle, entered her house. In the morning Sundaraka also left that house, and taking the roots with him he went to the market in order to procure money with which to purchase food. And while he was selling them there, some servants of the king's, who were natives of Málava, took them away without paying for them, seeing that they were the produce of their own country. Then he began to remonstrate angrily, so they manacled him, and took him before the king on a charge of throwing stones at them, and his friends followed him. Those villains said to the king--"This man, when we asked him how he managed continually to bring roots from Málava and sell them in Ujjayiní, would not give us any answer, on the contrary he threw stones at us." When the king heard this, he asked him about that marvel, [315] then his friends said--"If he is placed on the palace with us, he will explain the whole wonder, but not otherwise." The king consented, and Sundaraka was placed on the palace, whereupon by the help of the spell he suddenly flew up into the heaven with the palace. And travelling on it with his friends, he gradually reached Prayága, [316] and being now weary he saw a certain king bathing there, and after stopping the palace there, he plunged from the heaven into the Ganges, and, beheld with wonder by all, he approached that king. The king inclining before him, said to him, "Who art thou, and why hast thou descended from heaven?" Sundaraka answered, "I am an attendant of the god Siva, named Murajaka, and by his command I have come to thee desiring human pleasures." When the king heard this, he supposed it was true, and gave him a city, rich in corn, filled with jewels, with women and all the insignia of rank. Then Sundaraka entered that city and flew up into the heaven with his followers, and for a long time roamed about at will, free from poverty. Lying on a golden bed, and fanned with chowries by beautiful women, he enjoyed happiness like that of Indra. Then once on a time a Siddha, that roamed in the air, with whom he had struck up a friendship, gave him a spell for descending from the air, and Sundaraka, having become possessed of this spell enabling him to come down to earth, descended from the sky-path in his own city of Kányakubja. Then the king hearing that he had come down from heaven, possessed of full prosperity, with a city, went in person to meet him out of curiosity, and Sundaraka, when recognized and questioned, knowing what to say on all occasions, informed the king of all his own adventures brought about by Kálarátri. Then the king sent for Kálarátri and questioned her, and she fearlessly confessed her improper conduct, and the king was angry and made up his mind to cut off her ears, but she, when seized, disappeared before the eyes of all the spectators. Then the king forbade her to live in his kingdom, and Sundaraka having been honourably treated by him returned to the air. Having said this to her husband the king Ádityaprabha, the queen Kuvalayávalí went on to say; "King, such magic powers, produced by the spells of witches, do exist, and this thing happened in my father's kingdom, and it is famous in the world, and, as I told you at first, I am a pupil of Kálarátri's, but because I am devoted to my husband, I possess greater power even than she did. And to-day you saw me just at the time when I had performed ceremonies to ensure your welfare, and was endeavouring to attract by a spell a man to offer as a victim. So do you enter now into our practice, and set your foot on the head of all kings, conquering them by magic power. When he heard this proposal, the king at first rejected it, saying, "What propriety is there in a king's connecting himself with the eating of human flesh, the practice of witches?" But when the queen was bent on committing suicide, he consented, for how can men who are attracted by the objects of passion remain in the good path? Then she made him enter into the circle previously consecrated, and said to the king, after he had taken an oath; "I attempted to draw hither as a victim that Bráhman named Phalabhúti, who is so intimate with you, but the drawing him hither is a difficult task, so it is the best way to initiate some cook in our rites, that he may himself slay him and cook him. And you must not feel any compunction about it, because by eating a sacrificial offering of his flesh, after the ceremonies are complete, the enchantment will be perfect, for he is a Bráhman of the highest caste." When his beloved said this to him, the king, though afraid of the sin, a second time consented. Alas! terrible is compliance with women! Then that royal couple had the cook summoned, whose name was Sáhasika, and after encouraging him, and initiating him, they both said to him,--"Whoever comes to you to-morrow morning and says--'The king and queen will eat together to-day, so get some food ready quickly,' him you must slay, and make for us secretly a savoury dish of his flesh." When the cook heard this, he consented, and went to his own house. And the next morning, when Phalabhúti arrived, the king said to him, "Go and tell the cook Sáhasika in the kitchen, 'the king together with the queen will eat to-day a savoury mess, therefore prepare as soon as possible a splendid dish.'" Phalabhúti said, "I will do so" and went out. When he was outside, the prince whose name was Chandraprabha, came to him, and said--"Have made for me this very day with this gold a pair of earrings, like those you had made before for my noble father." When the prince said this, Phalabhúti, in order to please him, went that moment, as he was commissioned, to get the earrings made, and the prince readily went with the king's message, which Phalabhúti told him, alone to the kitchen; when he got there and told the king's message, the cook Sáhasika, true to his agreement, immediately killed him with a knife, and made a dish of his flesh, which the king and queen, after performing their ceremonies, ate, not knowing the truth; [317] and after spending that night in remorse, the next morning the king saw Phalabhúti arrive with the earrings in his hand. So, being bewildered, he questioned him about the earrings immediately; and when Phalabhúti had told him his story, the king fell on the earth, and cried out; "Alas my son!" blaming the queen and himself, and when his ministers questioned him, he told them the whole story, and repeated what Phalabhúti had said every day--"'The doer of good will obtain good, and the doer of evil, evil.' Often the harm that one wishes to do to another, recoils on one's self, as a ball thrown against a wall rebounding frequently; thus we, wicked ones, desiring to slay a Bráhman, have brought about our own son's death, and devoured his flesh." After the king had said this and informed his ministers, who stood with their faces fixed on the earth, of the whole transaction, and after he had anointed that very Phalabhúti as king in his place, he made a distribution of alms and then, having no son, entered the fire with his wife to purify himself from guilt, though already consumed by the fire of remorse: and Phalabhúti, having obtained the royal dignity, ruled the earth; thus good or evil done by a man is made to return upon himself. Having related the above tale in the presence of the king of Vatsa, Yaugandharáyana again said to that king; "If Brahmadatta therefore were to plot against you, O great king, who, after conquering him, treated him kindly, he ought to be slain." When the chief minister had said this to him, the king of Vatsa approved of it, and rising up went to perform the duties of the day, and the day following he set out from Lávánaka to go to his own city Kausámbí, having accomplished his objects in effecting the conquest of the regions; in course of time the lord of earth accompanied by his retinue reached his own city, which seemed to be dancing with delight, imitating with banners uplifted the taper arms [318] of the dancing girl. So he entered the city, producing, at every step, in the lotus-garden composed of the eyes of the women of the city, the effect of the rising of a breeze. And the king entered his palace, sung by minstrels, praised by bards, and worshipped by kings. Then the monarch of Vatsa laid his commands on the kings of every land, who bowed before him, and triumphantly ascended that throne, the heirloom of his race, which he had found long ago in the deposit of treasure. And the heaven was filled with the combined high and deep echoes of the sound of the drums, which accompanied the auspicious ceremonies on that occasion, like simultaneous shouts of applause uttered by the guardians of the world, each in his several quarter, being delighted with the prime minister of the king of Vatsa. Then the monarch, who was free from avarice, distributed to the Bráhmans all kinds of wealth acquired by the conquest of the world, and after great festivities, satisfied the desires of the company of kings and of his own ministers. Then in that city filled with the noise of drums resembling the thunder of the clouds, while the king was raining benefits on the fields [319] according to each man's desert, the people, expecting great fruit in the form of corn, kept high festival in every house. Having thus conquered the world, that victorious king devolved on Rumanvat and Yaugandharáyana the burden of his realm, and lived at ease there with Vásavadattá and Padmávatí. So he, being praised by excellent bards, seated between those two queens as if they were the goddesses of Fame and Fortune, enjoyed the rising of the moon white as his own glory, and continually drank wine as he had swallowed the might of his foes. BOOK IV. CHAPTER XXI. Victory to the conqueror of obstacles, [320] who marks with a line like the parting of the hair, the principal mountains [321] by the mighty fanning of his ear-flaps, pointing out, as it were, a path of success! Then Udayana, the king of Vatsa, remaining in Kausámbí, enjoyed the conquered earth which was under one umbrella; and the happy monarch devolved the care of his empire upon Yaugandharáyana and Rumanvat, and addicted himself to pleasure only in the society of Vasantaka. Himself playing on the lute, in the company of the queen Vásavadattá and Padmávatí, he was engaged in a perpetual concert. While the notes of his lyre were married to the soft sweet song of the queens, the rapid movement of his executing finger alone indicated the difference of the sounds. And while the roof of the palace was white with moonlight as with his own glory, he drank wine in plenteous streams as he had swallowed the pride of his enemies [322]; beautiful women brought him, as he sat retired, in vessels of gold, wine flaming with rosy glow, [323] as it were the water of his appointment as ruler in the empire of love; he divided between the two queens the cordial liquor red, delicious, and pellucid, in which danced the reflection of their faces; as he did his own heart, impassioned, enraptured and transparent, in which the same image was found; his eyes were never sated with resting on the faces of those queens, which had the eyebrows arched, and blushed with the rosy hue of love, though envy and anger were far from them; the scene of his banquet, filled with many crystal goblets of wine, gleamed like a lake of white lotuses tinged red with the rising sun. And occasionally, accompanied by huntsmen, clad in a vest dark green as the palása tree, he ranged, bow and arrows in hand, the forest full of wild beasts, which was of the same colour as himself. He slew with arrows herds of wild boars besmeared with mud, as the sun disperses with its dense rays the masses of darkness; when he ran towards them, the antelopes fleeing in terror, seemed like the sidelong glances of the quarters previously conquered [324] by him. And when he slew the buffaloes, the ground, red with blood, looked like a bed of red lotuses, come to thank him humbly for delivering it from the goring of their horns. When the lions too were transfixed by his javelins falling in their open mouths, and their lives issued from them with a suppressed roar, he was delighted. In that wood he employed dogs in the ravines, and nets in the glades; this was the method of his pursuit of the chase in which he relied only upon his own resources. While he was thus engaged in his pleasant enjoyments, one day the hermit Nárada came to him as he was in the hall of audience, diffusing a halo with the radiance of his body, like the sun, the orb of heaven, descending therefrom out of love for the Solar dynasty. The king welcomed him, inclining before him again and again, and the sage stood a moment as if pleased, and said to that king, "Listen, O king, I will tell you a story in few words; you had an ancestor once, a king of the name of Pándu; he like you had two noble wives; one wife of the mighty prince was named Kuntí and the other Mádrí. That Pándu conquered this sea-engirdled earth, and was very prosperous, and being addicted to the vice of hunting he went one day to the forest. There he let fly an arrow and slew a hermit of the name of Arindama, who was sporting with his wife in the form of a deer. [325] That hermit abandoned that deer-form, and with his breath struggling in his throat cursed that Pándu, who in his despair had flung away his bow; 'Since I have been slain while sporting at will by thee, inconsiderate one, thou also shalt die in the embraces of thy wife.' Having been thus cursed, Pándu, through fear of its effect, abandoned the desire of enjoyment, and accompanied by his wives lived in a tranquil grove of ascetic quietism. While he was there, one day impelled by that curse, he suddenly approached his beloved Mádrí, and died. So you may rest assured that the occupation called hunting is a madness of kings, for other kings have been done to death by it, even as the various deer they have slain. For how can hunting produce benign results, since the genius of hunting is like a female Rákshasa, roaring horribly, intent on raw flesh, defiled with dust, with upstanding hair and lances for teeth. Therefore give up that useless exertion, the sport of hunting; wild elephants and their slayers are exposed to the same risk of losing their lives. And you, who are ordained for prosperity, are dear to me on account of my friendship with your ancestors, so hear how you are to have a son who is to be a portion of the god of love. Long ago, when Rati worshipped Siva with praises in order to effect the restoration of Káma's body, Siva being pleased told her this secret in few words; 'This Gaurí, [326] desiring a son, shall descend to earth with a part of herself, and after propitiating me, shall give birth to an incarnation of Káma.' Accordingly, king, the goddess has been born in the form of this Vásavadattá, daughter of Chandamahásena, and she has become your queen. So she, having propitiated Siva, shall give birth to a son who shall be a portion of Káma, and shall become the emperor of all the Vidyádharas." By this speech the Rishi Nárada, whose words command respect, gave back to the king the earth which he had offered him as a present, and then disappeared. When he had departed, the king of Vatsa in company with Vásavadattá, in whom had arisen the desire of obtaining a son, spent the day in thinking about it. The next day the chief warder called Nityodita, came to the lord of Vatsa while he was in the hall of assembly, and said to him; "A certain distressed Bráhman woman, accompanied by two children, is standing at the door, O king, desiring to see your Highness." When the king heard this, he permitted her to enter, and so that Bráhman woman entered, thin, pale, and begrimed, distressed by the tearing of her clothes and wounding of her self-respect, carrying in her bosom two children looking like Misery and Poverty. After she had made the proper obeisance, she said to the king, "I am a Bráhman woman of good caste, reduced to such poverty; as fate would have it, I gave birth to these two boys at the same time, and I have no milk for them, O king, without food. Therefore I have come in my misery and helplessness for protection to the king, who is kind to all who fly to him for protection; now, my lord the king must determine what my lot is to be." When the king heard that, he was filled with pity, and said to the warder, "Take this woman and commend her to the queen Vásavadattá." Then that woman was conducted into the presence of the queen by that warder, as it were by her own good actions marching in front of her. The queen, when she heard from that warder that the Bráhman woman who had come had been sent by the king, felt all the more confidence in her. And when she saw that the woman, though poor, had two children, she thought, "This is exceedingly unfair dealing on the part of the Creator! Alas! he grudges a son to me who am rich, and shews affection to one who is poor! I have not yet one son, but this woman has these twins." Thus reflecting, the queen, who was herself desiring a bath, gave orders to her servants to provide the Bráhman woman with a bath and other restoratives. After she had been provided with a bath, and had had clothes given her, and had been supplied by them with agreeable food, that Bráhman woman was refreshed like the heated earth bedewed with rain. And as soon as she had been refreshed, the queen Vásavadattá, in order to test her by conversation, artfully said to her, "O Bráhman lady, tell us some tale," when she heard that, she agreed and began to tell this story. Story of Devadatta. In old time there was a certain petty monarch of the name of Jayadatta and there was born to him a son, named Devadatta. And that wise king wishing to marry his son who was grown up, thus reflected--"The prosperity of kings is very unstable, being like a hetæra to be enjoyed by force, but the prosperity of merchants is like a woman of good family, it is steady and does not fly to another man. Therefore I will take a wife to my son from a merchant's family, in order that misfortune may not overtake his throne, though it is surrounded with many relations." Having formed this resolve, that king sought for his son the daughter of a merchant in Pátaliputra named Vasudatta. Vasudatta, for his part, eager for such a distinguished alliance, gave that daughter of his to the prince, though he dwelt in a remote foreign land. And he loaded his son-in-law with wealth to such an extent that he no longer felt much respect for his father's magnificence. Then king Jayadatta dwelt happily with that son of his who had obtained the daughter of that rich merchant. Now one day the merchant Vasudatta came, full of desire to see his daughter, to the palace of his connexion by marriage, and took away his daughter to his own home. Shortly after the king Jayadatta suddenly went to heaven, and that kingdom was seized by his relations who rose in rebellion; through fear of them his son Devadatta was secretly taken away by his mother during the night to another country. Then that mother distressed in soul said to the prince--"Our feudal lord is the emperor who rules the eastern region, repair to him, my son, he will procure you the kingdom." When his mother said this to him, the prince answered her; "Who will respect me if I go there without attendants?" When she heard that, his mother went on to say, "Go to the house of your father-in-law, and get money there and so procure followers, and then repair to the emperor." Being urged in these words by his mother, the prince, though full of shame, slowly plodded on and reached his father-in-law's house in the evening, but he could not bear to enter at such an unseasonable hour, for he was afraid of shedding tears, being bereaved of his father, and having lost his worldly splendour, besides shame withheld him. So he remained in the verandah of an alms house near, and at night he suddenly beheld a woman descending with a rope from his father-in-law's house, and immediately he recognized her as his wife, for she was so resplendent with jewels that she looked like a meteor fallen from the clouds, and he was much grieved thereat, but she, though she saw him, did not recognise him, as he was emaciated and begrimed, and asked him who he was; when he heard that, he answered, "I am a traveller;" then the merchant's daughter entered the alms-house, and the prince followed her secretly to watch her. There she advanced towards a certain man, and he towards her, and asking her why she had come so late, he bestowed several kicks on her. [327] Then the passion of the wicked woman was doubled, and she appeased him and remained with him on the most affectionate terms. When he saw that, the discreet prince reflected; "This is not the time for me to shew anger, for I have other affairs in hand, and how could I employ against these two contemptible creatures, this wife of mine and the man who has done me this wrong, this sword which is to be used against my foes? Or what quarrel have I with this adulteress, for this is the work of malignant destiny, that showers calamities upon me, shewing skill in the game of testing my firmness? It is my marriage with a woman below me in rank that is in fault, not the woman herself; how can a female crow leave the male crow to take pleasure in a cuckoo?" Thus reflecting, he allowed that wife of his to remain in the society of her paramour; for in the minds of heroes possessed with an ardent desire of victory, of what importance is woman, valueless as a straw? But at the moment when his wife ardently embraced her paramour, there fell from her ear an ornament thickly studded with valuable jewels. And she did not observe this, but at the end of her interview taking leave of her paramour, returned hurriedly to her house as she came. And that unlawful lover also departed somewhere or other. Then the prince saw that jewelled ornament and took it up; it flashed with many jewel-gleams, dispelling the gathering darkness of despondency, and seemed like a hand-lamp obtained by him to assist him in searching for his lost prosperity. The prince immediately perceived that it was very valuable, and went off, having obtained all he required, to Kányakubja; there be pledged that ornament for a hundred thousand gold pieces, and after buying horses and elephants went into the presence of the emperor. And with the troops, which he gave him, he marched and slew his enemies in fight, and recovered his father's kingdom, and his mother applauded his success. Then he redeemed from pawn that ornament, and sent it to his father-in-law to reveal that unsuspected secret; his father-in-law, when he saw that ear-ring of his daughter's, which had come to him in such a way, was confounded and shewed it to her: she looked upon it, lost long ago like her own virtue, and when she heard that it had been sent by her husband, she was distracted and called to mind the whole circumstance: "This is the very ornament which I let fall in the alms-house the night I saw that unknown traveller standing there; so that must undoubtedly have been my husband come to test my virtue, but I did not recognize him, and he picked up this ornament." While the merchant's daughter was going through this train of reflection, her heart, afflicted by the misfortune of her unchastity having been discovered, in its agony, broke. Then her father artfully questioned a maid of hers who knew all her secrets, and found out the truth, and so ceased to mourn for his daughter; as for the prince, after he recovered the kingdom, he obtained as wife the daughter of the emperor won by his virtues, and enjoyed the highest prosperity. So you see that the hearts of women are hard as adamant in daring sin, but are soft as a flower when the tremor of fear falls upon them. But there are some few women born in good families, that, having hearts virtuous [328] and of transparent purity, become like pearls the ornaments of the earth. And the fortune of kings is ever bounding away like a doe, but the wise know how to bind it by the tether of firmness, as you see in my story; therefore those who desire good fortune must not abandon their virtue even in calamity, and of this principle my present circumstances are an illustration, for I preserved my character, O queen, even in this calamity, and that has borne me fruit in the shape of the good fortune of beholding you. Having heard this tale from the mouth of that Bráhman woman, the queen Vásavadattá, feeling respect for her, immediately thought,--"Surely this Bráhman woman must be of good family, for the indirect way in which she alluded to her own virtue and her boldness in speech prove that she is of gentle birth, and this is the reason why she shewed such tact in entering the king's court of justice,"--having gone through these reflections, the queen again said to the Bráhman woman: "Whose wife are you, or what is the history of your life? Tell me." When she heard that, the Bráhman woman again began to speak-- Story of Pingaliká. Queen, there was a certain Bráhman in the country or Málava, named Agnidatta, the home of Fortune and of Learning, who willingly impoverished himself to help suppliants, and in course of time there were born to him two sons like himself; the eldest was called Sankaradatta and the other Sántikara; of these two, oh glorious one, Sántikara suddenly left his father's house in quest of learning, while he was still a boy, and went, I know not whither, and the other son his elder brother married me, who am the daughter of Yajnadatta who collected wealth for the sake of sacrifice only. In course of time the father of my husband, who was named Agnidatta, being old, went to the next world and his wife followed him, [329] and my husband left me, when I was pregnant, to go to holy places, and through sorrow for his loss abandoned the body in fire purified by the goddess Sarasvatí; and when that fact was told us by those who accompanied him in his pilgrimage, I was not permitted to follow him by my relations, as I was pregnant. Then, while my grief was fresh, brigands suddenly swooped down on us and plundered my house and all the royal grant; immediately I fled with three Bráhman women from that place, for fear that I might be outraged, taking with me very few garments. And, as the whole kingdom was ravaged, I went to a distant land accompanied by them, and remained there a month only supporting myself by menial drudgery. And then hearing from people that the king of Vatsa was the refuge of the helpless, I came here with the three Bráhman women, with no other travelling provision than my virtue; and as soon as I arrived I gave birth at the same time to two boys. Thus, though I have the friendly assistance of these three Bráhman women, I have suffered bereavement, banishment, poverty, and now comes this birth of twins; Alas! Providence has opened to me the door of calamity. Accordingly, reflecting that I had no other means of maintaining these children, I laid aside shame, the ornament of women, and entering into the king's court I made a petition to him. Who is able to endure the sight of the misery of youthful offspring? And in consequence of his order, I have come into your august presence, and my calamities have turned back, as if ordered away from your door. This is my history: as for my name, it is Pingaliká, because from my childhood my eyes have been reddened by the smoke of the burnt-offerings. And that brother-in-law of mine Sántikara dwells in a foreign land, but in what land he is now living, I have not as yet discovered. When the Bráhman woman had told her history in these words, the queen came to the conclusion that she was a lady of high birth, and after reflecting, said this to her with an affectionate manner: "There is dwelling here a foreign Bráhman of the name of Sántikara, and he is our domestic chaplain; I am certain he will turn out to be your brother-in-law." After saying this to the eager Bráhman lady, the queen allowed that night to pass, and the next morning sent for Sántikara and asked him about his descent. And when he had told her his descent, she, ascertaining that the two accounts tallied completely, shewed him that Bráhman lady, and said to him--"Here is your brother's wife." And when they recognised one another, and he had heard of the death of his relations, he took the Bráhman lady the wife of his brother to his own house. There he mourned exceedingly, as was natural, for the death of his parents and his brother, and comforted the lady who was accompanied by her two children; and the queen Vásavadattá settled that the Bráhman lady's two young sons should be the domestic chaplains of her future son, and the queen also gave the eldest the name of Sántisoma, and the next of Vaisvánara, and she bestowed on them much wealth. The people of this world are like a blind man, being led to the place of recompense by their own actions, going before them, [330] and their courage is merely an instrument. Then those two children, and their mother and Sántikara remained united there, having obtained wealth. Then once upon a time, as days went on, the queen Vásavadattá beheld from her palace a certain woman of the caste of potters coming with five sons, bringing plates, and she said to the Bráhman lady Pingaliká, who was at her side; "Observe, my friend: this woman has five sons, and I have not even one as yet, to such an extent is such a one the possessor of merit, while such a one as myself is not." [331] Then Pingaliká said, "Queen, these numerous sons are people who have committed many sins in a previous existence, and are born to poor people in order that they may suffer for them, but the son that shall be born to such a one as you, must have been in a former life a very virtuous person. Therefore do not be impatient, you will soon obtain a son such as you deserve." Though Pingaliká said this to her, Vásavadattá, being eager for the birth of a son, remained with her mind overpowered by anxiety about it. At that moment the king of Vatsa came and perceiving what was in her heart said--"Queen, Nárada said that you should obtain a son by propitiating Siva, therefore we must continually propitiate Siva, that granter of boons." Upon that, the queen quickly determined upon performing a vow, and when she had taken a vow, the king and his ministers and the whole kingdom also took a vow to propitiate Siva; and after the royal couple had fasted for three nights, that Lord was so pleased that he himself appeared to them and commanded them in a dream,--"Rise up; from you shall spring a son who shall be a portion of the god of love, and owing to my favour shall be king of all the Vidyádharas." When the god, whose crest is the moon, had said this and disappeared, that couple woke up, and immediately felt unfeigned joy at having obtained their boon, and considered that they had gained their object. And in the morning the king and queen rose up, and after delighting the subjects with the taste of the nectarous story of their dream, kept high festival with their relations and servants, and broke in this manner the fast of their vow. After some days had past, a certain man with matted locks came and gave the queen Vásavadattá a fruit in her dream. Then the king of Vatsa rejoiced with the queen, who informed him of that clear dream, and he was congratulated by his ministers, and supposing that the god of the moon-crest had given her a son under the form of a fruit, he considered the fulfilment of his wish to be not far off. CHAPTER XXII. Then, in a short time, Vásavadattá became pregnant with a child, glorious inasmuch as it was an incarnation of the god of Love, and it was a feast to the eyes of the king of Vatsa. She shone with a face, the eyes of which rolled, and which was of palish hue, as if with the moon come to visit her out of affection for the god of Love conceived in her. When she was sitting down, the two images of her form, reflected in the sides of the jewelled couch, seemed like Rati and Príti come there out of regard for their husband. [332] Her ladies-in-waiting attended upon her like the Sciences that grant desires, come in bodily form to shew their respect for the future king of the Vidyádharas [333] conceived in her. At that time she had breasts with points dark like a folded bud, resembling pitchers intended for the inaugural sprinkling [334] of her unborn son. When she lay down on a comfortable couch in the middle of the palace, which gleamed with pavement composed of translucent, flashing, lustrous jewels, she appeared as if she were being propitiated by the waters, that had come there trembling, through fear of being conquered by her future son, with heaps of jewels on every side. Her image reflected from the gems in the middle of the chariot, appeared like the Fortune of the Vidyáharas coming in the heaven to offer her adoration. And she felt a longing for stories of great magicians provided with incantations by means of spells, introduced appropriately in conversation. Vidyádhara ladies, beginning melodious songs, waited upon her when in her dream she rose high up in the sky, and when she woke up, she desired to enjoy in reality the amusement of sporting in the air, which would give the pleasure of looking down upon the earth. And Yaugandharáyana gratified that longing of the queen's by employing spells, machines, juggling, and such like contrivances. So she roamed through the air by means of those various contrivances, which furnished a wonderful spectacle to the upturned eyes of the citizens' wives. But once on a time, when she was in her palace, there arose in her heart a desire to hear the glorious tales of the Vidyádharas; then Yaugandharáyana, being entreated by that queen, told her this tale while all were listening. Story of Jímútaváhana. There is a great mountain named Himavat, the father of the mother of the world, [335] who is not only the chief of hills, but the spiritual preceptor of Siva, and on that great mountain, the home of the Vidyádharas, dwelt the lord of the Vidyádharas, the king Jímútaketu. And in his house there was a wishing-tree [336], which had come down to him from his ancestors, called by a name which expressed its nature, The Giver of Desires. And one day the king Jímútaketu approached that wishing-tree in his garden, which was of divine nature, and supplicated it; "We always obtain from you all we desire, therefore give me, O god, who am now childless, a virtuous son." Then the wishing-tree said,--"King, there shall be born to thee a son who shall remember his past birth, who shall be a hero in giving, and kind to all creatures." When he heard that, the king was delighted, and bowed before that tree, and then he went and delighted his queen with the news: accordingly in a short time a son was born to him, and his father called the son Jímútaváhana. Then that Jímútaváhana, who was of great goodness, grew up step by step with the growth of his innate compassion for all creatures. And in course of time, when he was made Crown-Prince, he being full of compassion for the world said in secret to his father, who was pleased by his attentions--"I know, O father, that in this world all things perish in an instant, but the pure glory of the great alone endures till the end of a Kalpa. [337] If it is acquired by benefiting others, what other wealth can be, like it, valued by high-minded men more than life. And as for prosperity, if it be not used to benefit others, it is like lightning which for a moment pains the eye, and flickering disappears somewhere or other. So, if this wishing-tree, which we possess, and which grants all desires, is employed for the benefit of others, we shall have reaped from it all the fruit it can give. So let me take such steps as that by its riches the whole multitude of men in need may be rescued from poverty." This petition Jímútaváhana made to his father, and having obtained his permission, he went and said to that wishing-tree, "O god, thou always givest us the desired fruit, therefore fulfil to-day this one wish of ours. O my friend, relieve this whole world from its poverty, success to thee, thou art bestowed on the world that desires wealth!" The wishing-tree being addressed in this style by that self-denying one, showered much gold on the earth, and all the people rejoiced; what other compassionate incarnation of a Bodhisattva except the glorious Jímútaváhana would be able to dispose even of a wishing-tree in favour of the needy? For this reason every region of the earth [338] became devoted to Jímútaváhana, and his stainless fame was spread on high. Then the relations of Jímútaketu, seeing that his throne was firmly established by the glory of his son, were envious, and became hostile to him. And they thought it would be easy to conquer that place, which possessed the excellent wishing-tree that was employed for bestowing gifts, on account of its not being strong: then they assembled and determined on war, and thereupon the self-denying Jímútaváhana said to his father,--"As this body of ours is like a bubble in the water, for the sake of what do we desire prosperity, which flickers like a candle exposed to the wind? And what wise man desires to attain prosperity by the slaughter of others? Accordingly, my father, I ought not to fight with my relations. But I must leave my kingdom and go to some forest or other; let these miserable wretches be, let us not slay the members of our own family." When Jímútaváhana had said this, his father Jímútaketu formed a resolution and said to him; "I too must go, my son, for what desire for rule can I, who am old, have, when you, though young, out of compassion abandon your realm as if it were so much grass?" In these words his father expressed his acquiescence in the project of Jímútaváhana, who then, with his father and his father's wife, went to the Malaya mountain. There he remained in a hermitage, the dwelling of the Siddhas, where the brooks were hidden by the sandal-wood trees, and devoted himself to taking care of his father. There he struck up a friendship with the self-denying son of Visvávasu, the chief prince of the Siddhas, whose name was Mitrávasu. And once on a time the all-knowing Jímútaváhana beheld in a lonely place Mitrávasu's maiden sister, who had been his beloved in a former birth. And the mutual gaze of those two young people was like the catching in a frail net of the deer of the mind. [339] Then one day Mitrávasu came up suddenly to Jímútaváhana, who deserved the respect of the three worlds, with a pleased expression, and said to him, "I have a younger sister, the maiden called Malayavatí; I give her to you, do not refuse to gratify my wish." When Jímútaváhana heard that, he said to him, "O prince, she was my wife in a former birth, and in that life you became my friend, and were like a second heart to me. I am one who remembers the former state of existence, I recollect all that happened in my previous birth." When he said this, Mitrávasu said to him, "then tell me this story of your former birth, for I feel curiosity about it." When he heard this from Mitrávasu, the benevolent Jímútaváhana told him the tale of his former birth as follows: Story of Jímútaváhana's adventures in a former birth. Thus it is; formerly I was a sky-roaming Vidyádhara, and once on a time I was passing over a peak of the Himálaya. And then Siva, who was below, sporting with Gaurí, being angry at my passing above him, cursed me, saying, "Descend into a mortal womb, and after obtaining a Vidyádharí for your wife, and appointing your son in your place, you shall remember your former birth, and again be born as a Vidyádhara." Having pronounced when this curse should end, Siva ceased and disappeared; and soon after I was born upon earth in a family of merchants. And I grew up as the son of a rich merchant in a city named Vallabhí, and my name was Vasudatta. And in course of time, when I became a young man, I had a retinue given me by my father, and went by his orders to another land to traffic. As I was going along, robbers fell upon me in a forest, and after taking all my property, led me in chains to a temple of Durgá in their village, terrible with a long waving banner of red silk like the tongue of Death eager to devour the lives of animals. There they brought me into the presence of their chief named Pulindaka, who was engaged in worshipping the goddess, in order that I might serve as a victim. He, though he was a Savara, [340] the moment he saw me, felt his heart melt with pity for me; an apparently causeless affectionate movement of the heart is a sign of friendship in a former birth. Then that Savara king, having saved me from slaughter, was about to complete the rite by the sacrifice of himself, when a heavenly voice said to him--"Do not act thus, I am pleased with thee, crave a boon of me,"--thereupon he was delighted, and said--"O goddess, thou art pleased; what other blessing can I need, nevertheless I ask so much--may I have friendship with this merchant's son in another birth also." The voice said--"So be it," and then ceased, and then that Savara gave me much wealth, and sent me back to my own home. And then, as I had returned from foreign travel and from the jaws of death, my father, when he heard the whole occurrence, made a great feast in my honour. And in course of time I saw there that very same Savara chief, whom the king had ordered to be brought before him as a prisoner for plundering a caravan. I told my father of it immediately, and making a petition to the king, I saved him from capital punishment by the payment of a hundred thousand gold-pieces. And having in this way repaid the benefit, which he conferred upon me by saving my life, I brought him to my house, and entertained him honourably for a long time with all loving attention. And then, after this hospitable entertainment, I dismissed him, and he went to his own village fixing upon me a heart tender with affection. Then, while he thought about a present for me that might be worthy of my return for his previous kindness, he came to the conclusion that the pearls and musk and treasures of that kind, which were at his disposal, were not valuable enough. Thereupon he took his bow and went off to the Himálaya to shoot elephants, in order to obtain a surpassingly splendid necklace [341] for me. And while he was roaming about there, he reached a great lake with a temple upon its shore, being welcomed by its lotuses, which were as devoted to their friend [342] as he was to me. And suspecting that the wild elephants would come there to drink water, he remained in concealment with his bow, in order to kill them. In the meanwhile he saw a young lady of wonderful beauty come riding upon a lion to worship Siva, whose temple stood on the shore of the lake; looking like a second daughter of the king of the snowy mountains, devoted to the service of Siva while in her girlhood. And the Savara, when he saw her, being overpowered with wonder, reflected--"Who can this be? If she is a mortal woman, why does she ride upon a lion? On the other hand, if she is divine, how can she be seen by such as me? So she must certainly be the incarnate development of the merits of my eyes in a former birth. If I could only marry my friend to her, then I should have bestowed upon him a new and wonderful recompense. So I had better first approach her to question her." Thus reflecting, my friend the Savara advanced to meet her. In the meanwhile she dismounted from the lion, that lay down in the shade, and advancing began to pick the lotuses of the lake. And seeing the Savara, who was a stranger, coming towards her and bowing, out of a hospitable feeling she gratified him with a welcome. And she said to him--"Who are you, and why have you come to this inaccessible land?" Thereupon the Savara answered her, "I am a prince of the Savaras, who regard the feet of Bhavání as my only refuge, and I am come to this wood to get pearls from the heads of elephants. But when I beheld you just now, O goddess, I called to mind my own friend that saved my life, the son of a merchant prince, the auspicious Vasudatta. For he, O fair one, is, like you, matchless for beauty and youth, a very fount of nectar to the eyes of this world. Happy is that maiden in the world, whose braceleted hand is taken in this life by that treasure-house of friendship, generosity, compassion, and patience. And if this beautiful form of yours is not linked to such a man, then I cannot help grieving that Káma bears the bow in vain." By these words of the king of the hunters the mind of the maiden was suddenly carried away, as if by the syllables of the god of Love's bewildering spell. And prompted by love, she said to that Savara, "Where is that friend of yours? Bring him here and shew him to me." When he heard that, he said--"I will do so," and that moment the Savara took leave of her and set out on his journey in high spirits, considering his object attained. And after he had reached his village, he took with him pearls and musk, a weight sufficient for hundreds of heavily-laden porters, and came to our house. There he was honoured by all the inmates, and entering it, he offered to my father that present, which was worth much gold. And after that day and that night had been spent in feasting, he related to me in private the story of his interview with the maiden from the very commencement. And he said to me, who was all excitement, "Come, let us go there," and so the Savara carried me off at night just as he pleased. And in the morning my father found that I had gone off somewhere with the Savara prince, but feeling perfect confidence in his affection, he remained master of his feelings. But I was conducted in course of time by that Savara, who travelled fast, to the Himálaya, and he tended me carefully throughout the journey. And one evening we reached that lake, and bathed, and we remained that one night in the wood eating sweet fruits. That mountain wood, in which the creepers strewed the ground with flowers, and which was charming with the hum of bees, full of balmy gales, and with beautiful gleaming herbs for lamps, was like the chamber of Rati to repose in during the night for us two, who drank the water of the lake. Then, the next day that maiden came there, and at every step my mind, full of strange longings, flew to meet her, and her arrival was heralded by this my right eye, throbbing as if through eagerness to behold her. [343] And that maid with lovely eyebrows was beheld by me, on the back of a knotty-maned lion, like a digit of the moon resting in the lap of an autumn cloud; and I cannot describe how my heart felt at that time while I gazed on her, being full of tumultuous emotions of astonishment, longing, and fear; then that maiden dismounted from the lion, and gathered flowers, and after bathing in the lake, worshipped Siva who dwelt in the temple on its banks. [344] And when the worship was ended, that Savara, my friend, advanced towards her and announcing himself, bowed, and said to her who received him courteously; "Goddess, I have brought that friend of mine as a suitable bridegroom for you: if you think proper, I will shew him to you this moment." When she heard that, she said, "Shew him," and that Savara came and took me near her and shewed me to her. She looked at me askance with an eye that shed love, and being overcome by Cupid's taking possession of her soul, said to that chieftain of the Savaras; "This friend of yours is not a man, surely he is some god come here to deceive me to-day: how could a mortal have such a handsome shape?" When I heard that, I said myself to remove all doubt from her mind: "Fair one, I am in very truth a mortal, what is the use of employing fraud against one so honest as yourself, lady? For I am the son of a merchant named Mahádhana that dwells in Vallabhí, and I was gained by my father by the blessing of Siva. For he, when performing austerities to please the god of the moony crest, in order that he might obtain a son, was thus commanded by the god in a dream being pleased with him; 'Rise up, there shall spring from thee a great-hearted son, and this is a great secret, what is the use of setting it forth at length?' After hearing this, he woke up, and in course of time I was born to him as a son, and I am known by the name of Vasudatta. And long ago, when I went to a foreign land, I obtained this Savara chieftain for a chosen friend, who shewed himself a true helper in misfortune. This is a brief statement of the truth about me." When I had said this I ceased; and that maiden, with her face cast down from modesty, said--"It is so; to-day, I know, Siva being propitiated deigned to tell me in a dream, after I had worshipped him,--'To-morrow morning thou shalt obtain a husband:'--so you are my husband, and this friend of yours is my brother." When she had delighted me by this nectar-like speech, she ceased; and after I had deliberated with her, I determined to go to my own house with my friend, in order that the marriage might be solemnized in due form. Then that fair one summoned by a sign of her own that lion, on which she rode, and said to me, "Mount it, my husband," then I, by the advice of my friend, mounted the lion, and taking that beloved one in my arms, I set out thence for my home, having obtained all my objects, riding on the lion with my beloved, guided by that friend. And living on the flesh of the deer that he killed with his arrows, we all reached in course of time the city of Vallabhí. Then the people, seeing me coming along with my beloved, riding on a lion, being astonished, ran and told that fact quickly to my father. He too came to meet me in his joy, and when he saw me dismount from the lion and fall at his feet, he welcomed me with astonishment. And when he saw that incomparable beauty adore his feet, and perceived that she was a fit wife for me, he could not contain himself for joy. So he entered the house, and after asking us about the circumstances, he made a great feast, praising the friendship of the Savara chieftain. And the next day, by the appointment of the astrologers, I married that excellent maiden, and all my friends and relations assembled to witness our wedding. And that lion, on which my wife had ridden, having witnessed the marriage, suddenly before the eyes of all, assumed the form of a man. Then all the by-standers were bewildered thinking--"What can this mean?" But he, assuming heavenly garments and ornaments, thus addressed me: "I am a Vidyádhara named Chitrángada, and this maiden is my daughter Manovatí by name, dearer to me than life. I used to wander continually through the forest with her in my arms, and one day I reached the Ganges, on the banks of which are many ascetic groves. And as I was going along in the middle of the river, for fear of disturbing the ascetics, my garland by accident fell into its waters. Then the hermit Nárada, who was under the water, suddenly rose up, and angry because the garland had fallen upon his back, cursed me in the following words: 'On account of this insolence, depart, wicked one, thou shalt become a lion, and repairing to the Himálaya, shalt carry this daughter upon thy back. And when thy daughter shall be taken in marriage by a mortal, then after witnessing the ceremony, thou shalt be freed from this curse.' After being cursed in these words by the hermit, I became a lion, and dwelt on the Himálaya carrying about this daughter of mine, who is devoted to the worship of Siva. And you know well the sequel of the story, how by the exertions of the Savara chieftain this highly auspicious event has been brought about. So I shall now depart; good luck to you all! I have now reached the termination of that curse." Having said this, that Vidyádhara immediately flew up into the sky. Then my father, overwhelmed with astonishment at the marvel, delighted at the eligible connection, and finding that his friends and relations were overjoyed, made a great feast. And there was not a single person who did not say with astonishment, reflecting again and again on that noble behaviour of the Savara chieftain--"Who can imagine the actions of sincere friends, who are not even satisfied when they have bestowed on their sworn brothers the gift of life?" The king of the land too, hearing of that occurrence, was exceedingly pleased with the affection which the Savara prince had shown me, and finding he was pleased, my father gave him a present of jewels, and so induced him immediately to bestow on the Savara a vast forest territory. Then I remained there in happiness, considering myself to have attained all that heart could wish, in having Manovatí for a wife, and the Savara prince for a friend. And that Savara chieftain generally lived in my house, finding that he took less pleasure in dwelling in his own country than he formerly did. And the time of us two friends, of him and me, was spent in continually conferring benefits upon one another without our ever being satisfied. And not long after I had a son born to me by Manovatí, who seemed like the heart-joy of the whole family in external visible form; and being called Hiranyadatta he gradually grew up, and after having been duly instructed, he was married. Then my father having witnessed that, and considering that the object of his life had been accomplished, being old, went to the Ganges with his wife to leave the body. Then I was afflicted by my father's death, but having been at last persuaded by my relations to control my feelings, I consented to uphold the burden of the family. And at that time on the one hand the sight of the beautiful face of Manovatí, and on the other the society of the Savara prince delighted me. Accordingly those days of mine passed, joyous from the goodness of my son, charming from the excellence of my wife, happy from the society of my friend. Then, in course of time, I became well-stricken in years, and old age seized me by the chin, as it were out of love giving me this wholesome reproach--"Why are you remaining in the house so long as this, my son?" Then disgust with the world was suddenly produced in my breast, and longing for the forest I appointed my son in my stead. And with my wife I went to the mountain of Kálinjara, together with the king of the Savaras, who abandoned his kingdom out of love to me. And when I arrived there, I at once remembered that I had been a Vidyádhara in a former state of existence, and that the curse I had received from Siva had come to an end. And I immediately told my wife Manovatí of that, and my friend the king of the Savaras, as I was desirous of leaving this mortal body. I said--"May I have this wife and this friend in a future birth, and may I remember this birth," and then I meditated on Siva in my heart, and flung myself from that hill side, and so suddenly quitted the body together with that wife and friend. And so I have been now born, as you see, in this Vidyádhara family, under the name of Jímútaváhana, with a power of recollecting my former existence. And you, that prince of the Savaras, have been also born again by the favour of Siva, as Mitrávasu the son of Visvávasu the king of the Siddhas. And, my friend, that Vidyádhara lady, my wife Manovatí, has been again born as your sister Malayavatí by name. So your sister is my former wife, and you were my friend in a former state of existence, therefore it is quite proper that I should marry her. But first go and tell this to my parents, for if the matter is referred to them, your desire will be successfully accomplished. When Mitrávasu heard this from Jímútaváhana, he was pleased, and he went and told all that to the parents of Jímútaváhana. And when they received his proposal gladly, he was pleased, and went and told that same matter to his own parents. And they were delighted at the accomplishment of their desire, and so the prince quickly prepared for the marriage of his sister. Then Jímútaváhana, honoured by the king of the Siddhas, received according to usage the hand of Malayavatí. And there was a great festival, in which the heavenly minstrels bustled about, the dense crowd of the Siddhas assembled, and which was enlivened by bounding Vidyádharas. Then Jímútaváhana was married, and remained on that Malaya mountain with his wife in very great prosperity. And once on a time he went with his brother-in-law Mitrávasu to behold the woods on the shore of the sea. And there he saw a young man come in an agitated state, sending away his mother, who kept exclaiming "Alas! my son!" And another man, who seemed to be a soldier, following him, conducted him to a broad and high slab of rock and left him there. Jímútaváhana said to him: "Who are you? What are you about to do, and why does your mother weep for you?" Then the man told him his story. "Long ago Kadrú and Vinatá, the two wives of Kasyapa, had a dispute in the course of a conversation which they were carrying on. The former said that the Sun's horses were black, the latter that they were white, and they made an agreement that the one that was wrong should become a slave to the other. [345] Then Kadrú, bent on winning, actually induced her sons, the snakes, to defile the horses of the Sun by spitting venom over them; and shewing them to Vinatá in that condition, she conquered her by a trick and made her her slave: terrible is the spite of women against each other! When Garuda the son of Vinatá heard of that, he came and tried to induce Kadrú by fair means to release Vinatá from her slavery; then the snakes, the sons of Kadrú, reflecting, said this to him; 'O Garuda, the gods have began to churn the sea of milk, bring the nectar thence and give it to us as a substitute, and then take your mother away with you, for you are the chief of heroes.' When Garuda heard that, he went to the sea of milk, and displayed his great might in order to obtain the nectar. Then the god Vishnu pleased with his might deigned to say to him, 'I am pleased with thee, choose some boon.' Then Garuda, angry because his mother was made a slave, asked as a boon from Vishnu--'May the snakes become my food.' Vishnu consented, and when Garuda had obtained the nectar by his own valour, he was thus addressed by Indra who had heard the whole story: 'King of birds, you must take steps to prevent the foolish snakes from consuming the nectar, and to enable me to take it away from them again.' When Garuda heard that, he agreed to do it, and elated by the boon of Vishnu, he went to the snakes with the vessel containing the nectar. And he said from a distance to those foolish snakes, who were terrified on account of the boon granted to him, "Here is the nectar brought by me, release my mother and take it; if you are afraid, I will put it for you on a bed of Darbha grass. When I have procured my mother's release, I will go; take the nectar thence." The snakes consented, and then he put the vessel of nectar on a pure bed of Kusa grass, [346] and they let his mother go. So Garuda departed, having thus released his mother from slavery; but while the snakes were unsuspectingly taking the nectar, Indra suddenly swooped down, and bewildering them by his power, carried off the vessel of nectar from the bed of Kusa grass. Then the snakes in despair licked that bed of Darbha grass, thinking there might be a drop of spilt nectar on it; the effect was that their tongues were split, and they became double-tongued for nothing. [347] What but ridicule can ever be the portion of the over-greedy? Then the snakes did not obtain the nectar of immortality, and their enemy Garuda, on the strength of Vishnu's boon, began to swoop down and devour them. And this he did again and again. And while he was thus attacking them, the snakes [348] in Pátála were dead with fear, the females miscarried, and the whole serpent race was well-nigh destroyed. And Vásuki the king of the snakes, seeing him there every day, considered that the serpent world was ruined at one blow: then, after reflecting, he preferred a petition to that Garuda of irresistible might, and made this agreement with him--"I will send you every day one snake to eat, O king of birds, on the hill that rises out of the sand of the sea. But you must not act so foolishly as to enter Pátála, for by the destruction of the serpent world your own object will be baffled." When Vásuki said this to him, Garuda consented, and began to eat every day in this place one snake sent by him: and in this way innumerable serpents have met their death here. But I am a snake called Sankachúda, [349] and it is my turn to-day: for that reason I have to-day, by the command of the king of the snakes, in order to furnish a meal to Garuda, come to this rock of execution, and to be lamented by my mother." When Jímútaváhana heard this speech of Sankachúda's, he was grieved, and felt sorrow in his heart and said to him, "Alas! Vásuki exercises his kingly power in a very cowardly fashion, in that with his own hand he conducts his subjects to serve as food for his enemy. Why did he not first offer himself to Garuda? To think of this effeminate creature choosing to witness the destruction of his race! And how great a sin does Garuda, though the son of Kasyapa, commit! How great folly do even great ones commit for the sake of the body only! So I will to-day deliver you alone from Garuda by surrendering my body. Do not be despondent, my friend." When Sankachúda heard this, he out of his firm patience said to him,--"This be far from thee, O great-hearted one, do not say so again. The destruction of a jewel for the sake of a piece of glass is never becoming. And I will never incur the reproach of having disgraced my race." In these words the good snake Sankachúda tried to dissuade Jímútaváhana, and thinking that the time of Garuda's arrival would come in a moment, he went to worship in his last hour an image of Siva under the name of Gokarna, that stood on the shore of the sea. And when he was gone, Jímútaváhana, that treasure-house of compassion, considered that he had gained an opportunity of offering himself up to save the snake's life. Thereupon he quickly dismissed Mitrávasu to his own house on the pretext of some business, artfully pretending that he himself had forgotten it. And immediately the earth near him trembled, being shaken by the wind of the wings of the approaching Garuda, as if through astonishment at his valour. That made Jímútaváhana think that the enemy of the snakes was approaching, and full of compassion for others he ascended the stone of execution. And in a moment Garuda swooped down, darkening the heaven with his shadow, and carried off that great-hearted one, striking him with his beak. He shed drops of blood, and his crest-jewel dropped off torn out by Garuda, who took him away and began to eat him on the peak of the mountain. At that moment a rain of flowers fell from heaven, and Garuda was astonished when he saw it, wondering what it could mean. In the meanwhile Sankachúda came there, having worshipped Gokarna, and saw the rock of execution sprinkled with many drops of blood; then he thought--"Alas! surely that great-hearted one has offered himself for me, so I wonder where Garuda has taken him in this short time. I must search for him quickly, perhaps I may find him." Accordingly the good snake went following up the track of the blood. And in the meanwhile Garuda, seeing that Jímútaváhana was pleased, left off eating and thought with wonder: "This must be some one else, other than I ought to have taken, for though I am eating him, he is not at all miserable, on the contrary the resolute one rejoices." While Garuda was thinking this, Jímútaváhana, though in such a state, said to him in order to attain his object: "O king of birds, in my body also there is flesh and blood; then why have you suddenly stopped eating, though your hunger is not appeased?" When he heard that, that king of birds, being overpowered with astonishment, said to him--"Noble one, you are not a snake, tell me who you are." Jímútaváhana was just answering him, "I am a snake, [350] so eat me, complete what you have begun, for men of resolution never leave unfinished an undertaking they have begun," when Sankachúda arrived and cried out from afar, "Stop, stop, Garuda, he is not a snake, I am the snake meant for you, so let him go, alas! how have you suddenly come to make this mistake?" On hearing that, the king of birds was excessively bewildered, and Jímútaváhana was grieved at not having accomplished his desire. Then Garuda, learning, in the course of their conversation [351] with one another, that he had begun to devour by mistake the king of the Vidyádharas, was much grieved. He began to reflect, "Alas! in my cruelty I have incurred sin. In truth those who follow evil courses easily contract guilt. But this great-hearted one who has given his life for another, and despising [352] the world, which is altogether under the dominion of illusion, come to face me, deserves praise." Thinking thus, he was about to enter the fire to purify himself from guilt, when Jímútaváhana said to him: "King of birds, why do you despond? If you are really afraid of guilt, then you must determine never again to eat these snakes: and you must repent of eating all those previously devoured, for this is the only remedy available in this case, it was idle for you ever to think of any other." Thus Jímútaváhana, full of compassion for creatures, said to Garuda, and he was pleased and accepted the advice of that king, as if he had been his spiritual preceptor, determining to do what he recommended; and he went to bring nectar from heaven to restore to life rapidly that wounded prince, and the other snakes, whose bones only remained. Then the goddess Gaurí, pleased with Jímútaváhana's wife's devotion to her, came in person and rained nectar on him: by that his limbs were reproduced with increased beauty, and the sound of the drums of the rejoicing gods was heard at the same time. Then, on his rising up safe and sound, Garuda brought the nectar of immortality [353] from heaven, and sprinkled it along the whole shore of the sea. That made all the snakes there rise up alive, and then that forest along the shore of the sea, crowded with the numerous tribe of snakes, appeared like Pátála [354] come to behold Jímútaváhana, having lost its previous dread of Garuda. Then Jímútaváhana's relations congratulated him, having seen that he was glorious with unwounded body and undying fame. And his wife rejoiced with her relations, and his parents also. Who would not joy at pain ending in happiness? And with his permission Sankachúda departed to Rasátala, [355] and without it his glory, of its own accord, spread through the three worlds. Then, by virtue of the favour of the daughter of the Himálaya all his relations, Matanga and others, who were long hostile to him, came to Garuda, before whom the troops of gods were inclining out of love, and timidly approaching the glory of the Vidyádhara race, prostrated themselves at his feet. And being entreated by them, the benevolent Jímútaváhana went from that Malaya mountain to his own home, the slope of the Himálaya. There, accompanied by his parents and Mitrávasu and Malayavatí, the resolute one long enjoyed the honour of emperor of the Vidyádharas. Thus a course of fortunate events always of its own accord follows the footsteps of all those, whose exploits arouse the admiration of the three worlds. When the queen Vásavadattá heard this story from the mouth of Yaugandharáyana, she rejoiced, as she was eager to hear of the splendour of her unborn son. Then, in the society of her husband, she spent that day in conversation about her son, who was to be the future king of the Vidyádharas, which was suggested by that story, for she placed unfailing reliance upon the promise of the favouring gods. CHAPTER XXIII. Then Vásavadattá on the next day said to the king of Vatsa in private, while he was surrounded by his ministers;--"My husband, ever since I have been pregnant with this child, the difficult duty of taking care of it afflicts my heart; and last night, after thinking over it long, I fell asleep with difficulty, and I am persuaded I saw a certain man come in my dream, glorious with a shape distinguished by matted auburn locks and a trident-bearing hand; and he approaching me, said as if moved by compassion,--'My daughter, you need not feel at all anxious about the child with which you are pregnant, I will protect it, for I gave it to you. And hear something more, which I will tell you to make you confide in me; a certain woman waits to make a petition to you to-morrow, she will come dragging her husband with her as a prisoner, reviling him, accompanied by five sons, begirt with many relations: and she is a wicked woman who desires by the help of her relations to get that husband of hers put to death, and all that she will say will be false. And you, my daughter, must beforehand inform the king of Vatsa about this matter, in order that that good man may be freed from that wicked wife.' This command that august one gave and vanished, and I immediately woke up, and lo! the morning had come." When the queen had said that, all spoke of the favour of Siva, and were astonished, their minds eagerly expecting the fulfilment of the dream; when lo! at that very moment the chief warder entered, and suddenly said to the king of Vatsa, who was compassionate to the afflicted, "O king, a certain woman has come to make a representation, accompanied by her relations, bringing with her five sons, reviling her helpless husband." When the king heard that, being astonished at the way it tallied with the queen's dream, he commanded the warder to bring her into his presence. And the queen Vásavadattá felt the greatest delight, having become certain that she would obtain a good son, on account of the truth of the dream. Then that woman entered by the command of the warder, accompanied by her husband, looked at with curiosity by all, who had their faces turned towards the door. Then, having entered, she assumed an expression of misery, and making a bow according to rule, she addressed the king in council accompanied by the queen: "This man, though he is my husband, does not give to me, helpless woman that I am, food, raiment, and other necessaries, and yet I am free from blame with respect to him." When she had said this, her husband pleaded--"King, this woman speaks falsely, supported by her relations, for she wishes me to be put to death. For I have given her supplies beforehand to last till the end of the year, and other relations of hers, who are impartial, are prepared to witness the truth of this for me." When he had said this to the king, the king of his own accord answered: "The trident-bearing god himself has given evidence in this case, appearing to the queen in a dream. What need have we of more witnesses? This woman with her relations must be punished." When the king had delivered this judgment, the discreet Yaugandharáyana said, "Nevertheless, king, we must do what is right in accordance with the evidence of witnesses, otherwise the people, not knowing of the dream, would in no wise believe in the justice of our proceedings." When the king heard that, he consented and had the witnesses summoned that moment, and they, being asked, deposed that that woman was speaking falsely. Then the king banished her, as she was plotting against one well known to be a good husband, from his territory, with her relations and her sons. And with heart melting from pity he discharged her good husband, after giving him much treasure sufficient for another marriage. And in connexion with the whole affair the king remarked,--"An evil wife, of wildly [356] cruel nature, tears her still living husband like a she-wolf, when he has fallen into the pit of calamity; but an affectionate, noble, and magnanimous wife averts sorrow as the shade [357] of the wayside-tree averts heat, and is acquired by a man's special merits." Then Vasantaka, who was a clever story-teller, being at the king's side, said to him à propos of this: "Moreover, king, hatred and affection are commonly produced in living beings in this world owing to their continually recalling the impressions of a past state of existence, and in proof of this, hear the story which I am about to tell." Story of Sinhaparákrama. There was a king in Benares named Vikramachanda, and he had a favourite follower named Sinhaparákrama; who was wonderfully successful in all battles and in all gambling contests. And he had a wife very deformed both in body and mind, called by a name, which expressed her nature, Kalahakárí. [358] This brave man continually obtained much money both from the king and from gambling, and, as soon as he got it, he gave it all to his wife. But the shrewish woman, backed by her three sons begotten by him, could not in spite of this remain one moment without a quarrel. She continually worried him by yelling out these words at him with her sons--"You are always eating and drinking away from home, and you never give us anything." And though he was for ever trying to propitiate her with meat, drink, and raiment, she tortured him day and night like an interminable thirst. Then, at last, Sinhaparákrama vexed with indignation on that account, left his house, and went on a pilgrimage to the goddess Durgá that dwells in the Vindhya hills. While he was fasting, the goddess said to him in a dream: "Rise up, my son, go to thy own city of Benares; there is an enormous nyagrodha tree, by digging round its root thou wilt at once obtain a treasure. And in the treasure thou wilt find a dish of emerald, bright as a sword-blade, looking like a piece of the sky fallen down to earth; casting thy eyes on that, thou wilt see, as it were, reflected inside, the previous existence of every individual, in whatever case thou mayest wish to know it. By means of that thou wilt learn the previous birth of thy wife and of thyself, and having learned the truth wilt dwell there in happiness free from grief." Having thus been addressed by the goddess, Sinhaparákrama woke up and broke his fast, and went in the morning to Benares; and after he had reached the city, he found at the root of the nyagrodha tree a treasure, and in it he discovered a large emerald dish, and, eager to learn the truth, he saw in that dish that in a previous birth his wife had been a terrible she-bear, and himself a lion. And so recognising that the hatred between himself and his wife was irremediable owing to the influence of bitter enmity in a previous birth, he abandoned grief and bewilderment. Then Sinhaparákrama examined many maidens by means of the dish, and discovering that they had belonged to alien races in a previous birth, he avoided them, but after he had discovered one, who had been a lioness in a previous birth and so was a suitable match for him, he married her as his second wife, and her name was Sinhasrí. And after assigning to that Kalahakárí one village only as her portion, he lived, delighted with the acquisition of treasure, in the society of his new wife. Thus, O king, wives and others are friendly or hostile to men in this world by virtue of impressions in a previous state of existence. When the king of Vatsa had heard this wonderful story from Vasantaka, he was exceedingly delighted and so was the queen Vásavadattá. And the king was never weary day or night of contemplating the moon-like face of the pregnant queen. And as days went on, there were born to all of his ministers in due course sons with auspicious marks, who heralded approaching good fortune. First there was born to Yaugandharáyana, the chief minister, a son Marubhúti by name. Then Rumanvat had a son called Harisikha, and to Vasantaka there was born a son named Tapantaka. And to the head-warder called Nityodita, whose other title was Ityaka, [359] there was born a son named Gomukha. And after they were born a great feast took place, and during it a bodiless voice was heard from heaven--"These ministers shall crush the race of the enemies of the son of the king of Vatsa here, the future universal emperor. And as days went by, the time drew near for the birth of the child, with which the queen Vásavadattá was destined to present the king of Vatsa, and she repaired to the ornamented lying-in-chamber, which was prepared by matrons having sons, and the windows of which were covered with arka and samí plants. The room was hung with various weapons, rendered auspicious by being mixed with the gleam of jewel-lamps, shedding a blaze [360] able to protect the child; and secured by conjurers who went through innumerable charms and spells and other incantations, so that it became a fortress of the matrons hard for calamity to storm, and there she brought forth in good time a prince of lovely aspect, as the heaven brings forth the moon from which stream pure nectarous rays. The child, when born, not only irradiated that room, but the heart also of that mother from which the darkness of grief had departed; then, as the delight of the inmates of the harem was gradually extended, the king heard of the birth of a son from the people who were admitted to it; the reason he did not give his kingdom in his delight to the person, who announced it, was, that he was afraid of committing an impropriety, not that he was avaricious. And so the king, suddenly coming to the harem with longing mind, beheld his son, and his hope bore fruit after a long delay. The child had a long red lower lip like a leaf, beautiful flowing hair like wool, and his whole face was like the lotus, which the goddess of the Fortune of empire carries for her delight. He was marked on his soft feet with umbrellas and chowries, as if the Fortunes of other kings had beforehand abandoned their badges in his favour, out of fear. Then, while the king shed with tearful eye, that swelled with the pressure of the fulness of the weight of his joy, drops that seemed to be drops of paternal affection, [361] and the ministers with Yaugandharáyana at their head rejoiced, a voice was heard from heaven at that time to the following effect: "King, this son that is born to thee is an incarnation of Káma, [362] and know that his name is Naraváhanadatta; and he will soon become emperor of the kings of the Vidyádharas, and maintain that position unwearied for a kalpa of the gods." [363] When so much had been said, the voice stopped, and immediately a rain of flowers fell from heaven, and the sounds of the celestial drums went forth. Then the king, excessively delighted, made a great feast, which was rendered all the more solemn from the gods having begun it. The sound of cymbals floated in the air rising from temples, as if to tell all the Vidyádharas of the birth of their king: and red banners, flying in the wind on the tops of the palaces, seemed with their splendour to fling red dye to one another. On earth beautiful women assembled and danced everywhere, as if they were the nymphs of heaven glad that the god of love had been born with a body. [364] And the whole city appeared equally splendid with new dresses and ornaments bestowed by the rejoicing king. For while that rich king rained riches upon his dependants, nothing but the treasury was empty. And the ladies belonging to the families of the neighbouring chieftains came in from all sides, with auspicious prayers, versed in the good custom, [365] accompanied by dancing girls, bringing with them splendid presents, escorted by various excellent guards, attended with the sound of musical instruments, like all the cardinal points in bodily form. Every movement there was of the nature of a dance, every word uttered was attended with full vessels, [366] every action was of the nature of munificence, the city resounded with musical instruments, the people were adorned with red powder, and the earth was covered with bards,--all these things were so in that city which was all full of festivity. Thus the great feast was carried on with increasing magnificence for many days, and did not come to an end before the wishes of the citizens were fully satisfied. And as days went on, that infant prince grew like the new moon, and his father bestowed on him with appropriate formalities the name of Naraváhanadatta, which had been previously assigned him by the heavenly voice. His father was delighted when he saw him make his first two or three tottering steps, in which gleamed the sheen of his smooth fair toe-nails, and when he heard him utter his first two or three indistinct words, shewing his teeth which looked like buds. Then the excellent ministers brought to the infant prince their infant sons, who delighted the heart of the king, and commended them to him. First Yaugandharáyana brought Marubhúti, and then Rumanvat Harisikha, and then the head-warder named Ityaka brought Gomukha, and Vasantaka his son named Tapantaka. And the domestic chaplain Sántikara presented the two twin sons of Pingaliká, his nephews Sántisoma and Vaisvánara. And at that moment there fell from heaven a rain of flowers from the gods, which a shout of joy made all the more auspicious, and the king rejoiced with the queens, having bestowed presents on that company of ministers' sons. And that prince Naraváhanadatta was always surrounded by those six ministers' sons devoted to him alone, who commanded respect even in their boyhood, [367] as if with the six political measures that are the cause of great prosperity. The days of the lord of Vatsa passed in great happiness, while he gazed affectionately on his son with his smiling lotus-like face, going from lap to lap of the kings whose minds were lovingly attached to him, and making in his mirth a charming indistinct playful prattling. BOOK V. CHAPTER XXIV. May Ganesa, painting the earth with mosaic by means of the particles of red lead flying from his trunk whirled round in his madness, [368] and so, as it were, burning up obstacles with the flames of his might, protect you. Thus the king of Vatsa and his queen remained engaged in bringing up their only son Naraváhanadatta, and once on a time the minister Yaugandharáyana, seeing the king anxious about taking care of him, said to him as he was alone,--"King, you must never feel any anxiety now about the prince Naraváhanadatta, for he has been created by the adorable god Siva in your house as the future emperor over the kings of the Vidyádharas; and by their divine power the kings of the Vidyádharas have found this out, and meaning mischief have become troubled, unable in their hearts to endure it; and knowing this, the god with the moon-crest has appointed a prince of the Ganas, [369] Stambhaka by name, to protect him. And he remains here invisible, protecting this son of yours, and Nárada coming swiftly informed me of this." While the minister was uttering these words, there descended from the midst of the air a divine man wearing a diadem and a bracelet, and armed with a sword. He bowed, and then the king of Vatsa, after welcoming him, immediately asked him with curiosity: "Who are you, and what is your errand here?" He said, "I was once a mortal, but I have now become a king of the Vidyádharas, named Saktivega and I have many enemies. I have found out by my power that your son is destined to be our emperor, and I have come to see him, O king." When Saktivega, over-awed at the sight of his future emperor, had said this, the king of Vatsa was pleased and again asked him in his astonishment, "How can the rank of a Vidyádhara be attained, and of what nature is it, and how did you obtain it? Tell me this, my friend." When he heard this speech of the king's, that Vidyádhara Saktivega courteously bowing, answered him thus, "O king, resolute souls having propitiated Siva either in this or in a former birth, obtain by his favour the rank of Vidyádhara. And that rank, denoted by the insignia of supernatural knowledge, of sword, garland and so on, is of various kinds, but listen! I will tell you how I obtained it. Having said this, Saktivega told the following story, relating to himself, in the presence of the queen Vásavadattá. Story of Saktivega king of the Vidyádharas. There lived long ago in a city called Vardhamána, [370] the ornament of the earth, a king the terror of his foes, called Paropakárin. And this exalted monarch possessed a queen of the name of Kanakaprabhá, [371] as the cloud holds the lightning, but she had not the fickleness of the lightning. And in course of time there was born to him by that queen a daughter, who seemed to have been formed by the Creator to dash Lakshmí's pride in her beauty. And that moon of the eyes of the world was gradually reared to womanhood by her father, who gave her the name of Kanakarekhá suggested by her mother's name Kanakaprabhá. Once on a time, when she had grown up, the king, her father, said to the queen Kanakaprabhá, who came to him in secret: "A grown up daughter cannot be kept in one's house, accordingly Kanakarekhá troubles my heart with anxiety about a suitable marriage for her. For a maiden of good family, who does not obtain a proper position, is like a song out of tune; when heard of by the ears even of one unconnected with her, she causes distress. But a daughter, who through folly is made over to one not suitable, is like learning imparted to one not fit to receive it, and cannot tend to glory or merit but only to regret. So I am very anxious as to what king I must give this daughter of mine to, and who will be a fit match for her." When Kanakaprabhá heard this, she laughed and said,--"You say this, but your daughter does not wish to be married; for to-day when she was playing with a doll and making believe it was a child, I said to her in fun, 'My daughter, when shall I see you married?' When she heard that, she answered me reproachfully: 'Do not say so, you must not marry me to any one; and my separation from you is not appointed, I do well enough as a maiden, but if I am married, know that I shall be a corpse; there is a certain reason for this.' As she has said this to me I have come to you, O king, in a state of distress; for, as she has refused to be married, what use is there in deliberating about a bridegroom?" When the king heard this from the queen, he was bewildered, and going to the private apartments of the princess he said to his daughter: "When the maidens of the gods and Asuras practise austerities in order to obtain a husband, why, my daughter, do you refuse to take one?' When the princess Kanakarekhá heard this speech of her father's, she fixed her eyes on the ground and said, Father, I do not desire to be married at present, so what object has my father in it, and why does he insist upon it?" That king Paropakárin, when his daughter addressed him in that way, being the discreetest of men, thus answered her: "How can sin be avoided unless a daughter is given in marriage? And independence is not fit for a maiden who ought to be in dependence on relations? For a daughter in truth is born for the sake of another and is kept for him. The house of her father is not a fit place for her except in childhood. For if a daughter reaches puberty unmarried, her relations go to hell, and she is an outcast, and her bridegroom is called the husband of an outcast." When her father said this to her, the princess Kanakarekhá immediately uttered a speech that was in her mind, "Father, if this is so, then whatever Bráhman or Kshatriya has succeeded in seeing the city called the Golden City, to him I must be given, and he shall be my husband, and if none such is found, you must not unjustly reproach me." When his daughter said that to him, that king reflected: "It is a good thing at any rate that she has agreed to be married on a certain condition, and no doubt she is some goddess born in my house for a special reason, for else how comes she to know so much though she is a child?" Such were the king's reflections at that time: so he said to his daughter, "I will do as you wish," and then he rose up and did his day's work. And on the next day, as he was sitting in the hall of audience, he said to his courtiers, "Has any one among you seen the city called the Golden City? Whoever has seen it, if he be a Bráhman or a Kshatriya, I will give him my daughter Kanakarekhá, and make him crown-prince." And they all, looking at one another's faces, said, "We have not even heard of it, much less have we seen it." Then the king summoned the warder and said to him, "Go and cause a proclamation to be circulated in the whole of this town with the beating of drums, and find out if any one has really seen that city." When the warder received this order, he said, "I will do so," and went out; and after he had gone out, he immediately gave orders to the police, and caused a drum to be beaten all round the city, thus arousing curiosity to hear the proclamation, which ran as follows: "Whatever Bráhman or Kshatriya youth has seen the city called the Golden City, let him speak, and the king will give him his daughter and the rank of crown-prince." Such was the astounding announcement proclaimed all about the town after the drum had been beaten. And the citizens said, after hearing that proclamation: "What is this Golden City that is to-day proclaimed in our town, which has never been heard of or seen even by those among us who are old?" But not a single one among them said, "I have seen it." And in the meanwhile a Bráhman living in that town, Saktideva by name, the son of Baladeva, heard that proclamation; that youth, being addicted to vice, had been rapidly stripped of his wealth at the gaming-table, and he reflected, being excited by hearing of the giving in marriage of the king's daughter: "As I have lost all my wealth by gambling, I cannot now enter the house of my father, nor even the house of a hetæra, so, as I have no resource, it is better for me to assert falsely to those who are making the proclamation by beat of drum, that I have seen that city. Who will discover that I know nothing about it, for who has ever seen it? And in this way I may perhaps marry the princess." Thus reflecting Saktideva went to the police, and said falsely, "I have seen that city." They immediately said to him, "Bravo! then come with us to the king's warder." So he went with them to the warder. And in the same way he falsely asserted to him that he had seen that city, and he welcomed him kindly, and took him to the king. And without wavering he maintained the very same story in the presence of the king: what indeed is difficult for a blackleg to do who is ruined by play? Then the king, in order to ascertain the truth, sent that Bráhman to his daughter Kanakarekhá, and when she heard of the matter from the mouth of the warder, and the Bráhman came near, she asked him: "Have you seen that Golden City?" Then he answered her, "Yes, that city was seen by me when I was roaming through the earth in quest of knowledge." [372] She next asked him, "By what road did you go there, and what is it like?" That Bráhman then went on to say: "From this place I went to a town called Harapura, and from that I next came to the city of Benares; and from Benares in a few days to the city of Paundravardhana, thence I went to that city called the Golden City, and I saw it, a place of enjoyment for those who act aright, like the city of Indra, the glory of which is made for the delight of gods. [373] And having acquired learning there, I returned here after some time; such is the path by which I went, and such is that city." After that fraudulent Bráhman Saktideva had made up this story, the princess said with a laugh;--"Great Bráhman, you have indeed seen that city, but tell me, tell me again by what path you went." When Saktideva heard that, he again displayed his effrontery, and then the princess had him put out by her servants. And immediately after putting him out, she went to her father, and her father asked her: "Did that Bráhman speak the truth?"--And then the princess said to her father: "Though you are a king you act without due consideration; do you not know that rogues deceive honest people? For that Bráhman simply wants to impose on me with a falsehood, but the liar has never seen the golden city. And all kinds of deceptions are practised on the earth by rogues; for listen to the story of Siva and Mádhava, which I will tell you." Having said this, the princess told the following tale: Story of Siva and Mádhava. There is an excellent city rightly named Ratnapura, [374] and in it there were two rogues named Siva and Mádhava. Surrounding themselves with many other rogues, they contrived for a long time to rob, by making use of trickery, all the rich men in the town. And one day those two deliberated together and said--"We have managed by this time to plunder this town thoroughly; so let us now go and live in the city of Ujjayiní; there we hear that there is a very rich man named Sankarasvámin, who is chaplain to the king. If we cheat him out of his money we may thereby enjoy the charms of the ladies of Málava. He is spoken of by Bráhmans as a miser, because he withholds [375] half their usual fee with a frowning face, though he possesses treasure enough to fill seven vessels; and that Bráhman has a pearl of a daughter spoken of as matchless, we will manage to get her too out of him along with the money." Having thus determined, and having arranged beforehand what part each was to play, the two rogues Siva and Mádhava went out of that town. At last they reached Ujjayiní, and Mádhava, with his attendants, disguised as a Rájpút, remained in a certain village outside the town. But Siva, who was expert in every kind of deception, having assumed perfectly the disguise of a religious ascetic, first entered that town alone. There he took up his quarters in a hut on the banks of the Siprá, in which he placed, so that they could be seen, clay, darbha grass, a vessel for begging, and a deer-skin. And in the morning he anointed his body with thick clay, as if testing beforehand his destined smearing with the mud of the hell Avíchi. And plunging in the water of the river, he remained a long time with his head downward, as if rehearsing beforehand his future descent to hell, the result of his evil actions. And when he rose up from his bath, he remained a long time looking up towards the sun, as if shewing that he deserved to be impaled. Then he went into the presence of the god and making rings of Kusa grass, [376] and muttering prayers, he remained sitting in the posture called Padmásana, [377] with a hypocritical cunning face, and from time to time he made an offering to Vishnu, having gathered white flowers, even as he took captive the simple hearts of the good by his villainy; and having made his offering he again pretended to betake himself to muttering his prayers, and prolonged his meditations as if fixing his attention on wicked ways. And the next day, clothed in the skin of a black antelope, he wandered about the city in quest of alms, like one of his own deceitful leers intended to beguile it, and observing a strict silence he took three handfuls of rice from Bráhmans' houses, still equipped with stick and deer-skin, and divided the food into three parts like the three divisions of the day, and part he gave to the crows, and part to his guest, and with the third part he filled his maw; and he remained for a long time hypocritically telling his beads, as if he were counting his sins at the same time, and muttering prayers; and in the night he remained alone in his hut, thinking over the weak points of his fellow-men, even the smallest; and by thus performing every day a difficult pretended penance he gained complete ascendancy over the minds of the citizens in every quarter. And all the people became devoted to him, and a report spread among them in every direction that Siva was an exceedingly self-denying hermit. And in the meanwhile his accomplice, the other rogue Mádhava, having heard from his emissaries how he was getting on, entered that city; and taking up his abode there in a distant temple, he went to the bank of the Siprá to bathe, disguised as a Rájpút, and after bathing, as he was returning with his retinue, he saw Siva praying in front of the god, and with great veneration he fell at his feet, and said before all the people, "There is no other such ascetic in the world, for he has been often seen by me going round from one holy place to another." But Siva, though he saw him, kept his neck immoveable out of cunning, and remained in the same position as before, and Mádhava returned to his own lodging. And at night those two met together and ate and drank, and deliberated over the rest of their programme, what they must do next. And in the last watch of the night Siva went back leisurely to his hut. And in the morning Mádhava said to one of his gang, "Take these two garments and give them as a present to the domestic chaplain of the king here, who is called Sankarasvámin, and say to him respectfully: 'There is a Rájpút come from the Deccan of the name of Mádhava, who has been oppressed by his relations, and he brings with him much inherited wealth; he is accompanied by some other Rájpúts like himself, and he wishes to enter into the service of your king here, and he has sent me to visit you, O treasure-house of glory.'" The rogue, who was sent off by Mádhava with this message, went to the house of that chaplain with the present in his hand, and after approaching him, and giving him the present at a favourable moment, he delivered to him in private Mádhava's message, as he had been ordered; he, for his part, out of his greed for presents, believed it all, anticipating other favours in the future, for a bribe is the sovereign specific for attracting the covetous. The rogue then came back, and on the next day Mádhava, having obtained a favourable opportunity, went in person to visit that chaplain, accompanied by attendants, who hypocritically assumed the appearance of men desiring service, [378] passing themselves off as Rájpúts, distinguished by the maces they carried; he had himself announced by an attendant preceding him, and thus he approached the family priest, who received him with welcomes which expressed his delight at his arrival. Then Mádhava remained engaged in conversation with him for some time, and at last being dismissed by him, returned to his own house. On the next day he sent another couple of garments as a present, and again approached that chaplain and said to him, "I indeed wish to enter into service to please my retainers, for that reason I have repaired to you, but I possess wealth." When the chaplain heard that, he hoped to get something out of him, and he promised Mádhava to procure for him what he desired, and he immediately went and petitioned the king on this account, and, out of respect for the chaplain, the king consented to do what he asked. And on the next day the family priest took Mádhava and his retinue, and presented them to the king with all due respect. The king too, when he saw that Mádhava resembled a Rájpút in appearance, received him graciously and appointed him a salary. Then Mádhava remained there in attendance upon the king, and every night he met Siva to deliberate with him. And the chaplain entreated him to live with him in his house, out of avarice, as he was intent on presents. Then Mádhava with his followers repaired to the house of the chaplain; this settlement was the cause of the chaplain's ruin, as that of the mouse in the trunk of the tree was the cause of its ruin. And he deposited a safe in the strong room of the chaplain, after filling it with ornaments made of false gems. And from time to time he opened the box and by cunningly half-shewing some of the jewels, he captivated the mind of the chaplain as that of a cow is captivated by grass. And when he had gained in this way the confidence of the chaplain, he made his body emaciated by taking little food, and falsely pretended that he was ill. And after a few days had passed, that prince of rogues said with weak voice to that chaplain, who was at his bedside; "My condition is miserable in this body, so bring, good Bráhman, some distinguished man of your caste, in order that I may bestow my wealth upon him for my happiness here and hereafter, for, life being unstable, what care can a wise man have for riches?" That chaplain, who was devoted to presents, when addressed in this way, said, "I will do so," and Mádhava fell at his feet. Then whatever Bráhman the chaplain brought, Mádhava refused to receive, pretending that he wanted a more distinguished one. One of the rogues in attendance upon Mádhava, when he saw this, said--"Probably an ordinary Bráhman does not please him. So it will be better now to find out whether the strict ascetic on the banks of Siprá named Siva pleases him or not?" When Mádhava heard that, he said plaintively to that chaplain: "Yes, be kind, and bring him, for there is no other Bráhman like him." The chaplain, thus entreated, went near Siva, and beheld him immoveable, pretending to be engaged in meditation. And then he walked round him, keeping him on his right hand, and sat down in front of him: and immediately the rascal slowly opened his eyes. Then the family priest, bending before him, said with bowed head,--"My Lord, if it will not make you angry, I will prefer a petition to you. There is dwelling here a very rich Rájpút from the Deccan, named Mádhava, and he, being ill, is desirous of giving away his whole property: if you consent, he will give you that treasure which glitters with many ornaments made out of priceless gems." When Siva heard that, he slowly broke silence, and said,--"O Bráhman, since I live on alms, and observe perpetual chastity, of what use are riches to me?" Then that chaplain went on to say to him, "Do not say that, great Bráhman, do you not know the due order of the periods in the life of a Bráhman? [379] By marrying a wife, and performing in his house offerings to the Manes, sacrifices to the gods and hospitality to guests, he uses his property to obtain the three objects of life; [380] the stage of the householder is the most useful of all." Then Siva said, "How can I take a wife, for I will not marry a woman from any low family?" When the covetous chaplain heard that, he thought that he would be able to enjoy his wealth at will, and, catching at the opportunity, he said to him: "I have an unmarried daughter named Vinayasváminí, and she is very beautiful, I will bestow her in marriage on you. And I will keep for you all the wealth which you receive as a donation from Mádhava, so enter on the duties of a householder." When Siva heard this, having got the very thing he wanted, he said, "Bráhman, if your heart is set on this, [381] I will do what you say. But I am an ascetic who knows nothing about gold and jewels: I shall act as you advise; do as you think best." When the chaplain heard that speech of Siva's, he was delighted, and the fool said, "Agreed"--and conducted Siva to his house. And when he had introduced there that inauspicious guest named Siva, [382] he told Mádhava what he had done and was applauded by him. And immediately he gave Siva his daughter, who had been carefully brought up, and in giving her he seemed to be giving away his own prosperity lost by his folly. And on the third day after his marriage, he took him to Mádhava who was pretending to be ill, to receive his present. And Mádhava rose up and fell at his feet and said what was quite true, "I adore thee whose asceticism is incomprehensible." [383] And in accordance with the prescribed form he bestowed on Siva that box of ornaments made of many sham jewels, which was brought from the chaplain's treasury. Siva for his part, after receiving it, gave it into the hand of the chaplain, saying, "I know nothing about this, but you do." And that priest immediately took it, saying, "I undertook to do this long ago, why should you trouble yourself about it?" Then Siva gave them his blessing, and went to his wife's private apartments, and the chaplain took the box and put it in his strong room. Mádhava for his part gradually desisted from feigning sickness, affecting to feel better the next day, and said that his disease had been cured by virtue of his great gift. And he praised the chaplain when he came near, saying to him, "It was by your aiding me in an act of faith that I tided over this calamity." And he openly struck up a friendship with Siva, asserting that it was due to the might of Siva's holiness that his life had been saved. Siva, for his part, after some days said to the chaplain: "How long am I to feast in your house in this style? Why do you not take from me those jewels for some fixed sum of money? If they are valuable, give me a fair price for them." When the priest heard that, thinking that the jewels were of incalculable value, he consented, and gave to Siva as purchase-money his whole living. And he made Siva sign a receipt for the sum with his own hand, and he himself too signed a receipt for the jewels, thinking that that treasure far exceeded his own wealth in value. And they separated, taking one another's receipts, and the chaplain lived in one place, while Siva kept house in another. And then Siva and Mádhava dwelt together and remained there leading a very pleasant life consuming the chaplain's wealth. And as time went on, that chaplain, being in need of cash, went to the town to sell one of the ornaments in the bazar. Then the merchants, who were connoisseurs in jewels, said after examining it, "Ha! the man who made these sham jewels was a clever fellow, whoever he was. For this ornament is composed of pieces of glass and quartz coloured with various colours and fastened together with brass, and there are no gems or gold in it." When the chaplain heard that, he went in his agitation and brought all the ornaments from his house, and showed them to the merchants. When they saw them, they said that all of them were composed of sham jewels in the same way; but the chaplain, when he heard that, was, so to speak, thunderstruck. And immediately the fool went off and said to Siva, "Take back your ornaments and give me back my own wealth." But Siva answered him, "How can I possibly have retained your wealth till now? Why it has all in course of time been consumed in my house." Then the chaplain and Siva fell into an altercation, and went, both of them, before the king, at whose side Mádhava was standing. And the chaplain made this representation to the king: "Siva has consumed all my substance, taking advantage of my not knowing that a great treasure, which he deposited in my house, [384] was composed of skilfully coloured pieces of glass and quartz fastened together with brass." Then Siva said, "King, from my childhood I have been a hermit, and I was persuaded by that man's earnest petition to accept a donation, and when I took it, though inexperienced in the ways of the world, I said to him, 'I am no connoisseur in jewels and things of that kind, and I rely upon you,' and he consented saying, 'I will be your warrant in the matter.' And I accepted all the donation and deposited it in his hand. Then he bought the whole from me at his own price, and we hold from one another mutual receipts; and now it is in the king's power to grant me help in my sorest need." Siva having thus finished his speech, Mádhava said, "Do not say this, you are honourable, but what fault have I committed in the matter? I never received anything either from you or from Siva; I had some wealth inherited from my father, which I had long deposited elsewhere; then I brought that wealth and presented it to a Bráhman. If the gold is not real gold, and the jewels are not real jewels, then let us suppose that I have reaped fruit from giving away brass, quartz, and glass. But the fact that I was persuaded with sincere heart that I was giving something, is clear from this, that I recovered from a very dangerous illness." When Mádhava said this to him without any alteration in the expression of his face, the king laughed and all his ministers, and they were highly delighted. And those present in court said, laughing in their sleeves, "Neither Mádhava nor Siva has done anything unfair." Thereupon that chaplain departed with downcast countenance, having lost his wealth. For of what calamities is not the blinding of the mind with excessive greed the cause? And so those two rogues Siva and Mádhava long remained there, happy in having obtained the favour of the delighted king. "Thus do rogues spread the webs of their tongue with hundreds of intricate threads, like fishermen upon dry land, living by the net. So you may be certain, my father, that this Bráhman is a case in point. By falsely asserting that he has seen the City of Gold, he wishes to deceive you, and to obtain me for a wife. So do not be in a hurry to get me married; I shall remain unmarried at present, and we will see what will happen." When the king Paropakárin heard this from his daughter Kanakarekhá, he thus answered her: "When a girl is grown up, it is not expedient that she should remain long unmarried, for wicked people envious of good qualities, falsely impute sin. And people are particularly fond of blackening the character of one distinguished; to illustrate this, listen to the story of Harasvámin which I am about to tell you." Story of Harasvámin. [385] There is a city on the banks of the Ganges named Kusumapura, [386] and in it there was an ascetic who visited holy places, named Harasvámin. He was a Bráhman living by begging; and constructing a hut on the banks of the Ganges, he became, on account of his surprisingly rigid asceticism, the object of the people's respect. [387] And one day a wicked man among the inhabitants, who could not tolerate his virtue, seeing him from a distance going out to beg, said, "Do you know what a hypocritical ascetic that is? It is he that has eaten up all the children in this town." When a second there who was like him, heard this, he said, "It is true, I also have heard people saying this." And a third confirming it said, "Such is the fact." The chain of villains' conversation binds reproach on the good. And in this way the report spread from ear to ear, and gained general credence in the city. And all the citizens kept their children by force in their houses, saying, "Harasvámin carries off all the children and eats them." And then the Bráhmans in that town, afraid that their offspring would be destroyed, assembled and deliberated about his banishment from the city. And as they did not dare to tell him face to face, for fear he might perhaps eat them up in his rage, they sent messengers to him. And those messengers went and said to him from a distance; "The Bráhmans command you to depart from this city." Then in his astonishment he asked them "Why?" And they went on to say; "You eat every child as soon as you see it." When Harasvámin heard that, he went near those Bráhmans, in order to reassure them, and the people fled before him for fear. And the Bráhmans, as soon as they saw him, were terrified and went up to the top of their monastery. People who are deluded by reports are not, as a rule, capable of discrimination. Then Harasvámin standing below called all the Bráhmans who were above, one by one, by name, and said to them, "What delusion is this, Bráhmans? Why do you not ascertain with one another how many children I have eaten, and whose, and how many of each man's children." When they heard that, the Bráhmans began to compare notes among themselves, and found that all of them had all their children left alive. And in course of time other citizens, appointed to investigate the matter, admitted that all their children were living. And merchants and Bráhmans and all said, "Alas in our folly we have belied a holy man; the children of all of us are alive; so whose children can he have eaten?" Harasvámin, being thus completely exonerated, prepared to leave that city, for his mind was seized with disgust at the slanderous report got up against him by wicked men. For what pleasure can a wise man take in a wicked place, the inhabitants of which are wanting in discrimination? Then the Bráhmans and merchants, prostrating themselves at his feet, entreated him to stay there, and he at last, though with reluctance, consented to do so. "In this way evil men often impute crime falsely to good men, allowing their malicious garrulity full play on beholding their virtuous behaviour. Much more, if they obtain a slight glimpse of any opportunity for attacking them, do they pour copious showers of oil on the fire thus kindled. Therefore if you wish, my daughter, to draw the arrow from my heart, you must not, while this fresh youth of yours is developing, remain unmarried to please yourself, and so incur the ready reproach of evil men." Such was the advice which the princess Kanakarekhá frequently received from her father the king, but she, being firmly resolved, again and again answered him: "Therefore quickly search for a Bráhman or Kshatriya who has seen that City of Gold and give me to him, for this is the condition I have named." When the king heard that, reflecting that his daughter, who remembered her former birth, had completely made up her mind, and seeing no other way of obtaining for her the husband she desired, he issued another order to the effect that henceforth the proclamation by beat of drum was to take place every day in the city, in order to find out whether any of the newcomers had seen the Golden City. And once more it was proclaimed in every quarter of the city every day, after the drum had been beaten,--"If any Bráhman or Kshatriya has seen the Golden City, let him speak; the king will give him his own daughter, together with the rank of Crown-prince." But no one was found who had obtained a sight of the Golden City. CHAPTER XXV. In the meanwhile the young Bráhman Saktideva, in very low spirits, having been rejected with contempt by the princess he longed for, said to himself; "To-day by asserting falsely that I had seen the Golden City, I certainly incurred contempt, but I did not obtain that princess. So I must roam through the earth to find it, until I have either seen that city or lost my life. For of what use is my life, unless I can return having seen that city, and obtain the princess as the prize of the achievement?" Having thus taken a vow, that Bráhman set out from the city of Vardhamána, directing his course toward the southern quarter, and as he journeyed, he at last reached the great forest of the Vindhya range, and entered it, which was difficult and long as his own undertaking. And that forest, so to speak, fanned, with the soft leaves of its trees shaken by the wind, him, who was heated by the multitudinous rays of the sun; and through grief at being overrun with many robbers, it made its cry heard day and night in the shrill screams of animals which were being slain in it by lions and other noisome beasts. And it seemed, by the unchecked rays of heat flashed upward from its wild deserts, to endeavour to conquer the fierce brightness of the sun: in it, though there was no accumulation of water, calamity was to be easily purchased: [388] and its space seemed ever to extend before the traveller as fast as he crossed it. In the course of many days he accomplished a long journey through this forest, and beheld in it a great lake of cold pure water in a lonely spot: which seemed to lord it over all lakes, with its lotuses like lofty umbrellas, and its swans like gleaming white chowries. In the water of that lake he performed the customary ablutions, and on its northern shore he beheld a hermitage with beautiful fruit-bearing trees: and he saw an old hermit named Súryatapas sitting at the foot of an Asvattha tree, surrounded by ascetics, adorned with a rosary, the beads of which by their number seemed to be the knots that marked the centuries of his life, [389] and which rested against the extremity of his ear that was white with age. And he approached that hermit with a bow, and the hermit welcomed him with hospitable greetings. And the hermit, after entertaining him with fruits and other delicacies, asked him, "Whence have you come, and whither are you going? Tell me, good sir." And Saktideva inclining respectfully, said to that hermit,--"I have come, venerable sir, from the city of Vardhamána, and I have undertaken to go to the Golden City in accordance with a vow. But I do not know where that city lies; tell me venerable sir, if you know." The hermit answered, "My son, I have lived eight hundred years in this hermitage, and I have never even heard of that city." Saktideva when he heard this from the hermit, was cast down, and said again--"Then my wanderings through the earth will end by my dying here." Then that hermit, having gradually elicited the whole story said to him, "If you are firmly resolved, then do what I tell you. Three yojanas from here there is a country named Kámpilya, and in it is a mountain named Uttara, and on it there is a hermitage. There dwells my noble elder brother named Dírghatapas; [390] go to him, he being old may perhaps know of that city." When Saktideva heard that, hope arose in his breast, and having spent the night there he quickly set out in the morning from that place. And wearied with the laborious journey through difficult forest country, he at last reached that region of Kámpilya and ascended that mountain Uttara; and there he beheld that hermit Dírghatapas in a hermitage, and he was delighted and approached him with a bow: and the hermit received him hospitably: and Saktideva said to him, "I am on my way to the City of Gold spoken of by the king's daughter: but I do not know, venerable sir, where that city is. However I am bound to find it, so I have been sent to you by the sage Súryatapas in order that I may discover where it lies." When he had said this, the hermit answered him, "Though I am so old, my son, I have never heard of that city till to-day; I have made acquaintance with various travellers from foreign lands, and I have never heard any one speak of it; much less have I seen it. But I am sure it must be in some distant foreign island, and I can tell you an expedient to help you in this matter; there is in the midst of the ocean an island named Utsthala, and in it there is a rich king of the Nishádas [391] named Satyavrata. He goes to and fro among all the other islands, and he may have seen or heard of that city. Therefore first go to the city named Vitankapura situated on the border of the sea. And from that place go with some merchant in a ship to the island where that Nisháda dwells, in order that you may attain your object." When Saktideva heard this from the hermit, he immediately followed his advice, and taking leave of him set out from the hermitage. And after accomplishing many kos and crossing many lands, he reached the city of Vitankapura, the ornament of the sea-shore. There he sought out a merchant named Samudradatta, who traded with the island of Utsthala, and struck up a friendship with him. And he went on board his ship with him, and having food for the voyage fully supplied by his kindness, he set out on the ocean-path. Then, when they had but a short distance to travel, there arose a black cloud with rumbling thunder, resembling a roaring Rákshasa, with flickering lightning to represent his lolling tongue. And a furious hurricane began to blow like Destiny herself, whirling up light objects and hurling down heavy. [392] And from the sea, lashed by the wind, great waves rose aloft like the mountains equipped with wings, [393] indignant that their asylum had been attacked. And that vessel rose on high one moment, and the next moment plunged below, as if exhibiting how rich men are first elevated and then cast down. And the next moment that ship, shrilly laden with the cries of the merchants, burst and split asunder as if with the weight. And the ship being broken, that merchant its owner fell into the sea, but floating through it on a plank he at last reached another vessel. But as Saktideva fell, a large fish, opening its mouth and neck, swallowed him without injuring any of his limbs. And as that fish was roaming at will in the midst of the sea, it happened to pass near the island of Utsthala; and by chance some servants of that king of the fishermen Satyavrata, who were engaged in the pursuit of small fish, came there and caught it. And those fishermen, proud of their prize, immediately dragged it along to shew to their king, for it was of enormous size. He too, out of curiosity, seeing that it was of such extraordinary size, ordered his servants to cut it open; and when it was cut open, Saktideva came out alive from its belly, having endured a second wonderful imprisonment in the womb. [394] Then the fisher-king Satyavrata, when he saw that young man come out and bestow his blessing on him, was astonished, and asked him, "Who are you, and how did this lot of dwelling in the belly of the fish befall you? What means this exceedingly strange fate that you have suffered." When Saktideva heard this, he answered that king of the fishermen: "I am a Bráhman of the name of Saktideva from the city of Vardhamána; and I am bound to visit the City of Gold, and because I do not know where it is, I have for a long time wandered far over the earth; then I gathered from a speech of Dírghatapas' that it was probably in an island, so I set out to find Satyavrata the king of the fishermen, who lives in the island of Utsthala, in order to learn its whereabouts, but on the way I suffered shipwreck, and so having been whelmed in the sea and swallowed by a fish, I have been brought here now." When Saktideva had said this, Satyavrata said to him: "I am in truth Satyavrata, and this is the very island you were seeking; but though I have seen many islands, I have never seen the city you desire to find, but I have heard of it as situated in one of the distant islands." Having said this, and perceiving that Saktideva was cast down, Satyavrata out of kindness for his guest went on to say: "Bráhman, do not be despondent; remain here this night, and to-morrow morning I will devise some expedient to enable you to attain your object." The Bráhman was thus consoled by the king, and sent off to a monastery of Bráhmans, where guests were readily entertained. There Saktideva was supplied with food by a Bráhman named Vishnudatta, an inmate of the monastery, and entered into conversation with him. And in the course of that conversation, being questioned by him, he told him in a few words his country, his family, and his whole history. When Vishnudatta heard that, he immediately embraced him, and said in a voice indistinct from the syllables being choked with tears of joy: "Bravo! you are the son of my maternal uncle and a fellow-countryman of mine. But I long ago in my childhood left that country to come here. So stop here awhile, and soon the stream of merchants and pilots that come here from other islands will accomplish your wish." Having told him his descent in these words, Vishnudatta waited upon Saktideva with all becoming attentions. And Saktideva, forgetting the toil of the journey, obtained delight, for the meeting a relation in a foreign land is like a fountain of nectar in the desert. And he considered that the accomplishment of his object was near at hand, for good luck, befalling one by the way indicates success in an undertaking. So he reclined at night sleepless upon his bed, with his mind fixed upon the attainment of his desire, and Vishnudatta, who was by his side, in order to encourage and delight him at the same time, related to him the following tale: Story of Asokadatta and Vijayadatta. [395] Formerly there was a great Bráhman named Govindasvámin, living on a great royal grant of land on the banks of the Yamuná. And in course of time there were born to that virtuous Bráhman two sons like himself, Asokadatta and Vijayadatta. While they were living there, there arose a terrible famine in that land, and so Govindasvámin said to his wife; "This land is ruined by famine, and I cannot bear to behold the misery of my friends and relations. For who gives anything to anybody? So let us at any rate give away to our friends and relations what little food we possess and leave this country. And let us go with our family to Benares to live there." When he said this to his wife, she consented, and he gave away his food, and set out from that place with his wife, sons, and servants. For men of noble soul cannot bear to witness the miseries of their relatives. And on the road he beheld a skull-bearing Saiva ascetic, white with ashes, and with matted hair, like the god Siva himself with his half-moon. The Bráhman approached that wise man with a bow, and out of love for his sons, asked him about their destiny, whether it should be good or bad, and that Yogí answered him: "The future destiny of your sons is auspicious, but you shall be separated, Bráhman, from this younger one Vijayadatta, and finally by the might of the second Asokadatta you shall be reunited to him." Govindasvámin, when that wise man said this to him, took leave of him and departed overpowered with joy, grief, and wonder; and after reaching Benares he spent the day there in a temple of Durgá outside the town, engaged in worshipping the goddess and such like occupations. And in the evening he encamped outside that temple under a tree, with his family, in the company of pilgrims who had come from other countries. And at night, while all were asleep, wearied with their long journey, stretched out on strewn leaves, and, such other beds as travellers have to put up with, his younger son Vijayadatta, who was awake, was suddenly seized with a cold ague-fit; that ague quickly made him tremble, and caused his hair to stand on end, as if it had been the fear of his approaching separation from his relations. And oppressed with the cold he woke up his father, and said to him: "A terrible ague afflicts me here now, father, so bring fuel and light me a fire to keep off the cold, in no other way can I obtain relief or get through the night." When Govindasvámin heard him say this, he was distressed at his suffering, and said to him; "Whence can I procure fire now my son?" Then his son said; "Why surely we may see a fire burning near us on this side, and it is very large, so why should I not go there and warm my body? So take me by the hand, for I have a shivering fit, and lead me there." Thus entreated by his son the Bráhman went on to say: "This is a cemetery, [396] and the fire is that of a funeral pyre, so how can you go to a place terrible from the presence of goblins and other spirits, for you are only a child?" When the brave Vijayadatta heard that speech of his affectionate father's, he laughed and said in his confidence, "What can the wretched goblins and other evil ones do to me? Am I a weakling? So take me there without fear." When he said this so persistently, his father led him there, and the boy warming his body approached the pyre, which seemed to bear on itself the presiding deity of the Rákshasas in visible form, with the smoke of the flames for dishevelled hair, devouring the flesh of men. The boy at once encouraged his father [397] and asked him what the round thing was that he saw inside the pyre. And his father standing at his side, answered him, "This, my son, is the skull of a man which is burning in the pyre." Then the boy in his recklessness struck the skull with a piece of wood lighted at the top, and clove it. The brains spouted up from it and entered his mouth, like the initiation into the practices of the Rákshasas, bestowed upon him by the funeral flame. And by tasting them that boy became a Rákshasa, with hair standing on end, with sword that he had drawn from the flame, terrible with projecting tusks: so he seized the skull and drinking the brains from it, he licked it with tongue restlessly quivering like the flames of fire that clung to the bone. Then be flung aside the skull, and lifting his sword he attempted to slay his own father Govindasvámin. But at that moment a voice came out from the cemetery, "Kapálasphota, [398] thou god, thou oughtest not to slay thy father, come here." When the boy heard that, having obtained the title of Kapálasphota and become a Rákshasa, he let his father alone, and disappeared; and his father departed exclaiming aloud, "Alas my son! Alas my virtuous son! Alas Vijayadatta!" And he returned to the temple of Durgá; and in the morning he told his wife and his eldest son Asokadatta what had taken place. Then that unfortunate man together with them suffered an attack of the fire of grief, terrible like the falling of lightning from a cloud, so that the other people, who were sojourning in Benares, and had come to visit the shrine of the goddess, came up to him and sympathised heartily with his sorrow. In the meanwhile a great merchant, who had come to worship the goddess, named Samudradatta, beheld Govindasvámin in that state. The good man approached him and comforted him, and immediately took him and his family home to his own house. And there he provided him with a bath and other luxuries, for this is the innate tendency of the great, to have mercy upon the wretched. Govindasvámin also and his wife recovered their self-command, having heard [399] the speech of the great Saiva ascetic, hoping to be re-united to their son. And thenceforth he lived in that city of Benares, in the house of that rich merchant, having been asked by him to do so. And there his other son Asokadatta grew up to be a young man, and after studying the sciences learnt boxing and wrestling. And gradually he attained such eminence in these arts, that he was not surpassed by any champion on the earth. And once on a time there was a great gathering of wrestlers at an idol procession, and a great and famous wrestler came from the Deccan. He conquered all the other wrestlers of the king of Benares, who was called Pratápamukuta, before his eyes. Then the king had Asokadatta quickly summoned from the house of that excellent merchant, and ordered him to contend with that wrestler. That wrestler began the combat by catching the arm of Asokadatta with his hand, but Asokadatta seized his arm, and hurled him to the ground. Then the field of combat, as it were, pleased, applauded the victor with the resounding noise produced by the fall of that champion wrestler. And the king being gratified, loaded Asokadatta with jewels, and having seen his might, he made him his own personal attendant. So he became a favourite of the king's, and in time attained great prosperity, for to one who possesses heroic qualities, a king who appreciates merit is a perfect treasure-house. Once on a time, that king went on the fourteenth day of the month away from his capital, to worship the god Siva in a splendid temple in a distant town. After he had paid his devotions, he was returning by night near the cemetery when he heard this utterance issue from it: "O king, the chief magistrate out of private malice proclaimed that I deserved death, and it is now the third day since I was impaled, and even now my life will not leave my body, though I am innocent, so I am exceedingly thirsty; O king, order water to be given me." When the king heard it, out of pity he said to his personal attendant Asokadatta, "Send that man some water." Then Asokadatta said, "Who would go there at night? So I had better go myself." Accordingly he took the water, and set off. After the king had proceeded on his way to his capital, the hero entered that cemetery, the interior of which was difficult to penetrate, as it was filled with dense darkness within; in it there were awful evening oblations offered with the human flesh scattered about by the jackals; in places the cemetery was lighted up by the flaming beacons of the blazing funeral pyres, and in it the Vetálas made terrible music with the clapping of their hands, so that it seemed as if it were the palace of black night. Then he cried aloud, "Who asked the king for water?" And he heard from one quarter an answer, "I asked for it." Following the voice he went to a funeral pyre near, and beheld a man impaled on the top of a stake, and underneath it he saw a woman that he had never seen before, weeping, adorned with beautiful ornaments, lovely in every limb; like the night adorned with the rays of the moon, now that the moon itself had set, its splendour having waned in the dark fortnight, come to worship the funeral pyre. He asked the woman: "Who are you, mother, and why are you standing weeping here?" She answered him, "I am the ill-fated wife of him who is here impaled, and I am waiting here with the firm intention of ascending the funeral pyre with him. And I am waiting some time for his life to leave his body, for though it is the third day of his impalement, his breath does not depart. And he often asks for that water which I have brought here, but I cannot reach his mouth, my friend, as the stake is high." When he heard that speech of hers, the mighty hero said to her: "But here is water in my hand sent to him by the king, so place your foot on my back and lift it to his mouth, for the mere touching of another man in sore need does not disgrace a woman." When she heard that, she consented, and taking the water she climbed up so as to plant her two feet on the back of Asokadatta, who bent down at the foot of the stake. Soon after, as drops of blood unexpectedly began to fall upon the earth and on his back, the hero lifted up his face and looked. Then he saw that woman cutting off slice after slice of that impaled man's flesh with a knife, and eating it. [400] Then, perceiving that she was some horrible demon, [401] he dragged her down in a rage, and took hold of her by her foot with its tinkling anklets in order to dash her to pieces on the earth. She, for her part, dragged away from him that foot, and by her deluding power quickly flew up into the heaven, and became invisible. And the jewelled anklet, which had fallen from her foot, while she was dragging it away, remained in one of Asokadatta's hands. Then he, reflecting that she had disappeared after shewing herself mild at first, and evil-working in the middle, and at the end horror-striking by assuming a terrible form, like association with wicked men,--and seeing that heavenly anklet in his hand, was astonished, grieved and delighted at the same time; and then he left that cemetery, taking the anklet with him, and went to his own house, and in the morning, after bathing, to the palace of the king. And when the king said--"Did you give the water to the man who was impaled," he said he had done so, and gave him that anklet; and when the king of his own accord asked him where it came from, he told that king his wonderful and terrible night-adventure. And then the king, perceiving that his courage was superior to that of all men, though he was before pleased with his other excellent qualities, was now more exceedingly delighted; and he took that anklet in his joy and gave it with his own hand to the queen, and described to her the way in which he had obtained it. And she, hearing the story and beholding that heavenly jewelled anklet, rejoiced in her heart and was continually engaged in extolling Asokadatta. Then the king said to her: "Queen, in birth, in learning, in truthfulness and beauty Asokadatta is great among the great; and I think it would be a good thing if he were to become the husband of our lovely daughter Madanalekhá; in a bridegroom these qualities are to be looked for, not fortune that vanishes in a moment, so I will give my daughter to this excellent hero." When she heard that speech of her husband's, that queen approving the proposal said, "It is quite fitting, for the youth will be an appropriate match for her, and her heart has been captivated by him, for she saw him in a spring-garden, and for some days her mind has been in a state of vacancy and she neither hears nor sees; I heard of it from her confidante, and, after spending an anxious night, towards morning I fell asleep, and I remember I was thus addressed by some heavenly woman in a dream, 'My child, thou must not give this thy daughter Madanalekhá to any one but Asokadatta, for she is his wife acquired by him in a former birth.' And when I heard it, I woke up, and in the morning I went myself on the strength of the dream and consoled my daughter. And now, my husband has of his own accord proposed the marriage to me. Let her therefore be united to him, as a spring-creeper to its stalk." When the king's beloved wife said this to him, he was pleased, and he made festal rejoicings, and summoning Asokadatta gave that daughter to him. And the union of those two, the daughter of the king, and the son of the great Bráhman, was such that each enhanced the other's glory, like the union of prosperity and modesty. And once upon a time the queen said to the king, with reference to the anklet brought by Asokadatta: "My husband, this anklet by itself does not look well, so let another be made like it." When the king heard that, he gave an order to the goldsmiths and other craftsmen of the kind, to make a second anklet like that. But they, after examining it said;--"It is impossible, O king, to make another like it, for the work is heavenly, not human. There are not many jewels of this kind upon the earth, so let another be sought for where this was obtained." When the king and the queen heard this, they were despondent, and Asokadatta who was there, on seeing that, immediately said, "I myself will bring you a fellow to that anklet." And having made this promise he could not give up the project on which he was resolved, although the king, terrified at his temerity, endeavoured to dissuade him out of affection. And taking the anklet he went again on the fourteenth night of the black fortnight to the cemetery where he had first obtained it; and after he had entered that cemetery which was full of Rákshasas as it was of trees, besmirched with the copious smoke of the funeral pyres, and with men hanging from their trunks [402] which were weighed down and surrounded with nooses, he did not at first see that woman that he had seen before, but he thought of an admirable device for obtaining that bracelet, which was nothing else than the selling of human flesh. [403] So he pulled down a corpse from the noose by which it was suspended on the tree, and he wandered about in the cemetery, crying aloud--"Human flesh for sale, buy, buy!" And immediately a woman called to him from a distance, saying, "Courageous man, bring the human flesh and come along with me." When he heard that, he advanced following that woman, and beheld at no great distance under a tree a lady of heavenly appearance, surrounded with women, sitting on a throne, glittering with jewelled ornaments, whom he would never have expected to find in such a place, any more than to find a lotus in a desert. And having been led up by that woman, he approached the lady seated as has been described, and said, "Here I am, I sell human flesh, buy, buy!" And then the lady of heavenly appearance said to him, "Courageous hero, for what price will you sell the flesh?" Then the hero, with the corpse hanging over his shoulder and back, said to her, shewing her at the same time that single jewelled anklet which was in his hand, "I will give this flesh to whoever will give me a second anklet like this one; if you have got a second like it, take the flesh." When she heard that, she said to him, "I have a second like it, for this very single anklet was taken by you from me. I am that very woman who was seen by you near the impaled man, but you do not recognise me now, because I have assumed another shape. So what is the use of flesh? If you do what I tell you, I will give you my second anklet, which matches the one in your hand." When she said this to the hero, he consented and said, "I will immediately do whatever you say." Then she told him her whole desire from the beginning: "There is, good sir, a city named Trighanta on a peak of the Himálayas. In it there lived a heroic prince of the Rákshasas named Lambajihva. I am his wife, Vidyuchchhikhá by name, and I can change my form at will. And as fate would have it, that husband of mine, after the birth of my daughter, was slain in battle fighting in front of the king Kapálasphota; then that king being pleased gave me his own city, and I have lived with my daughter in great comfort on its proceeds up to the present time. And that daughter of mine has by this time grown up to fresh womanhood, and I have great anxiety in my mind as to how to obtain for her a brave husband. Then being here on the fourteenth night of the lunar fortnight, and seeing you coming along this way with the king, I thought--'This good-looking youth is a hero and a fit match for my daughter. So why should I not devise some stratagem for obtaining him?' Thus I determined, and imitating the voice of an impaled person, I asked for water, and brought you into the middle of that cemetery by a trick. And there I exhibited my delusive power in assuming a false shape and other characteristics, and saying what was false I imposed upon you there, though only for a moment. And I artfully left one of my anklets there to attract you again, like a binding chain to draw you, and then I came away. And to-day I have obtained you by that very expedient, so come to my house; marry my daughter and receive the other anklet." When the Rákshasí said this to him, the hero consented, and by means of her magic power he went with her through the air to her city. And he saw that city built of gold on a peak of the Himálayas, like the orb of the sun fixed in one spot, being weary with the toil of wandering through the heavens. There he married that daughter of the prince of the Rákshasas, by name Vidyutprabhá, like the success of his own daring incarnate in bodily form. And Asokadatta dwelt with that loved one some time in that city, enjoying great comfort by means of his mother-in-law's wealth. Then he said to his mother-in-law, "Give me that anklet, for I must now go to the city of Benares, for I myself long ago promised the king that I would bring a second anklet, that would vie with the first one so distinguished for its unparalleled beauty." The mother-in-law, having been thus entreated by her son-in-law, gave him that second anklet of hers, and in addition a golden lotus. [404] Then he left that city with the anklet and the lotus, after promising to return, and his mother-in-law by the power of her magic knowledge carried him once more through the air to the cemetery. And then she stopped under the tree and said to him, "I always come here on the fourteenth night of the black fortnight, and whenever you come here on that [405] night, you will find me here under the banyan-tree." When Asokadatta heard this, he agreed to come there on that night, and took leave of that Rákshasí, and went first to his father's house. And just as he was gladdening by his unexpected arrival his parents, who were grieved by such an absence of his, which doubled their grief for their separation from their younger son, the king his father-in-law, who had heard of his arrival, came in. The king indulged in a long outburst of joy, embracing him who bent before him, with limbs the hairs of which stood on end like thorns, as if terrified at touching one so daring. [406] Then Asokadatta entered with him the palace of the king, like joy incarnate in bodily form, and he gave to the king those two anklets matched together, which so to speak praised his valour with their tinkling, and he bestowed on that king the beautiful golden lotus, as it were the lotus, with which the presiding Fortune of the Rákshasas' treasure plays, torn, from her hand; then being questioned out of curiosity by the king and queen he told the story of his exploits, which poured nectar into their ears. The king then exclaimed--"Is glittering glory, which astonishes the mind by the description of wonderful exploits, ever obtained without a man's bringing himself to display boldness?" Thus the king spake on that occasion, and he and the queen, who had obtained the pair of anklets, considered their object in life attained, now that they had such a son-in-law. And then that palace, resounding with festal instruments, appeared as if it were chanting the virtues of Asokadatta. And on the next day the king dedicated the golden lotus in a temple made by himself, placing it upon a beautiful silver vessel; and the two together, the vessel and the lotus, gleamed white and red like the glory of the king and the might [407] of Asokadatta. And beholding them thus, the king, a devout worshipper of Siva, with eyes expanded with joy, spoke inspired with the rapture of adoration, "Ah! this lofty vessel appears, with this lotus upon it, like Siva white with ashes, with his auburn matted locks. If I had a second golden lotus like it, I would place it in this second silver vessel." When Asokadatta heard this speech of the king's, he said, "I, king, will bring you a second golden lotus;" when the king heard that, he answered him, "I have no need of another lotus, a truce to your temerity!" Then as days went on, Asokadatta being desirous of bringing a golden lotus, the fourteenth day of the black fortnight returned; and that evening the sun, the golden lotus of the sky-lake, went to the mountain of setting, as if out of fear, knowing his desire for a golden lotus; and when the shades of night, brown as smoke, began immediately to spread everywhere like Rákshasas, proud of having swallowed the red clouds of evening as if they were raw flesh, and the mouth of night, like that of an awful female goblin, began to yawn, shining and terrible as tamála, full of flickering flames, [408] Asokadatta of his own accord left the palace where the princess was asleep, and again went to that cemetery. There he beheld at the foot of that banyan-tree his mother-in-law the Rákshasí, who had again come, and who received him with a courteous welcome, and with her the youth went again to her home, the peak of the Himálayas, where his wife was anxiously awaiting him. And after he had remained some time with his wife, he said to his mother-in-law, "Give me a second golden lotus from somewhere or other." When she heard that, she said to him, "Whence can I procure another golden lotus? But there is a lake here belonging to our king Kapálasphota, where golden lotuses of this kind grow on all sides. From that lake he gave that one lotus to my husband as a token of affection." When she said this, he answered her, "Then take me to that lake, in order that I may myself take a golden lotus from it." She then attempted to dissuade him saying, "It is impossible; for the lake is guarded by terrible Rákshasas;" but nevertheless he would not desist from his importunity. Then at last his mother-in-law was with much difficulty induced to take him there, and he beheld from afar that heavenly lake on the plateau of a lofty mountain, covered with dense and tall-stalked lotuses of gleaming gold, as if from continually facing the sun's rays they had drunk them in, and so become interpenetrated with them. So he went there and began to gather the lotuses, and while he was thus engaged, the terrible Rákshasas, who guarded it, endeavoured to prevent him from doing so. And being armed he killed some of them, but the others fled and told their king Kapálasphota, [409] and when that king of the Rákshasas heard of it, he was enraged and came there himself, and saw Asokadatta with the lotuses he had carried off. And in his astonishment he exclaimed as he recognised his brother: "What! is this my brother Asokadatta come here?" Then he flung away his weapon, and with his eyes washed with tears of joy, he quickly ran and fell at his feet, and said to him: "I am Vijayadatta, your younger brother, we are both the sons of that excellent Bráhman Govindasvámin. And by the appointment of destiny, I became a Rákshasa such as you see, and have continued such for this long time, and I am called Kapálasphota from my cleaving the skull on the funeral pyre. "But now from seeing you I have remembered my former Bráhman nature, and that Rákshasa nature of mine, that clouded my mind with delusion, has left me." When Vijayadatta said this, Asokadatta embraced him, and so to speak, washed with copious tears of joy his body defiled by the Rákshasa nature. And while he was thus engaged, there descended from heaven by divine command the spiritual guide of the Vidyádharas, named Kausika. And he approaching these two brothers, said, "You and your family are all Vidyádharas, who have been reduced to this state by a curse, and now the curse of all of you has terminated. So receive these sciences, which belong to you, and which you must share with your relations. And return to your own proper dwelling taking with you your relations." Having said this, the spiritual guide, after bestowing the sciences on them, ascended to heaven. And they, having become Vidyádharas, awoke from their long dream, and went through the air to that peak of the Himálayas, taking with them the golden lotuses, and there Asokadatta repaired to his wife the daughter of the king of the Rákshasas, and then her curse came to an end, and she became a Vidyádharí. And those two brothers went in a moment with that fair-eyed one to Benares, travelling through the air. And there they visited their parents, who were scorched with the fire of separation, and refreshed them by pouring upon them the revivifying nectar of their own appearance. And those two, who, without changing the body, had gone through such wonderful transformations, produced joy not only in their parents, but in the people at large. And when Vijayadatta's father, after so long a separation, folded him in a close embrace, he filled full not only his arms, but also his desire. Then the king Pratápamukuta, the father-in-law of Asokadatta, hearing of it, came there in high delight; and Asokadatta, being kindly received by the king, entered with his relations the king's palace, in which his beloved was anxiously awaiting him, and which was in a state of festal rejoicing. And he gave many golden lotuses to that king, and the king was delighted at getting more than he had asked for. Then Vijayadatta's father Govindasvámin, full of wonder and curiosity, said to him in the presence of all: "Tell me, my son, what sort of adventures you had, after you had become a Rákshasa in the cemetery during the night." Then Vijayadatta said to him--"My father, when in my reckless frivolity I had cloven the burning skull on the funeral pyre, as fate would have it, I immediately, as you saw, became a Rákshasa by its brains having entered my mouth, being bewildered with delusion. Then I was summoned by the other Rákshasas, who gave me the name of Kapálasphota, and I joined them. And then I was led by them to their sovereign the king of the Rákshasas, and he, when he saw me, was pleased with me and appointed me commander-in-chief. And once on a time that king of the Rákshasas went in his infatuation to attack the Gandharvas, and was there slain in battle by his foes. And then his subjects accepted my rule, so I dwelt in his city and ruled those Rákshasas, and while I was there, I suddenly beheld that elder brother of mine Asokadatta, who had come for golden lotuses, and the sight of him put a stop to that Rákshasa nature in me. What follows, how we were released from the power of the curse, and thereby recovered our sciences, [410] all this my elder brother will relate to you." When Vijayadatta had told this story, Asokadatta began to tell his from the beginning: "Long ago we were Vidyádharas, and from the heaven we beheld the daughters of the hermits bathing in the Ganges near the hermitage of Gálava, [411] and then we fell suddenly in love with them, and they returned our affection; all this took place in secret, but their relations, who possessed heavenly insight, found it out and cursed us in their anger: 'May you two wicked ones be born both of you to a mortal woman, and then you shall be separated in a marvellous manner, but when the second of you shall behold the first arrived in a distant land, inaccessible to man, and shall recognise him, then you shall have your magic knowledge restored to you by the spiritual preceptor of the Vidyádharas, and you shall again become Vidyádharas, released from the curse and re-united to your friends.' Having been cursed in this way by those hermits, we were both born here in this land, and you know the whole story of our separation, and now by going to the city of the king of the Rákshasas, by virtue of my mother-in-law's magic power, to fetch the golden lotuses, I have found this younger brother of mine. And in that very place we obtained the sciences from our preceptor Prajnaptikausika, and suddenly becoming Vidyádharas we have quickly arrived here." Thus Asokadatta spoke, and then that hero of various adventures, delighted at having escaped the darkness of the curse, bestowed on his parents and his beloved, the daughter of the king, his own wonderful sciences of many kinds, so that their minds were suddenly awakened, and they became Vidyádharas. Then the happy hero took leave of the king, and with his brother, his parents, and his two wives, flew up, and quickly reached through the air the palace of his emperor. There he beheld him, and received his orders, and so did his brother, and he bore henceforth the name of Asokavega, and his brother of Vijayavega. And both the brothers, having become noble Vidyádhara youths, went, accompanied by their relations, to the splendid mountain named Govindakúta, which now became their home. And Pratápamukuta the king of Benares, overpowered by wonder, placed one of the golden lotuses in the second vessel in his temple, and offered to Siva the other golden lotuses presented by Asokadatta, and delighted with the honour of his connexion, considered his family highly fortunate. "Thus divine persons become incarnate for some reason, and are born in this world of men, and possessing their native virtue and courage, attain successes which it is hard to win. So I am persuaded that you, O sea of courage, are some portion of a divinity, and will attain success as you desire; daring in achievements hard to accomplish even by the great, generally indicates a surpassingly excellent nature. Moreover the princess Kanakarekhá, whom you love, must surely be a heavenly being, otherwise being a mere child how could she desire a husband that has seen the Golden City?" Having heard in secret this long and interesting story from Vishnudatta, Saktideva desiring in his heart to behold the Golden City, and supporting himself with resolute patience, managed to get through the night. CHAPTER XXVI. The next morning, while Saktideva was dwelling in the monastery in the island of Utsthala, Satyavrata, the king of the fishermen, came to him, and said to him in accordance with the promise which he had made before, "Bráhman, I have thought of a device for accomplishing your wish; there is a fair isle in the middle of the sea named Ratnakúta, and in it there is a temple of the adorable Vishnu founded by the Ocean, and on the twelfth day of the white fortnight of Áshádha there is a festival there with a procession, and people come there diligently from all the islands to offer worship. It is possible that some one there might know about the Golden City, so come let us go there, for that day is near." When Satyavrata made this proposal, Saktideva consented gladly, and took with him the provisions for the journey furnished by Vishnudatta. Then he went on board the ship brought by Satyavrata, and quickly set out with him on the ocean-path, and as he was going with Satyavrata on the home of marvels [412] in which the monsters resembled islands, he asked the king, who was steering the ship, "What is this enormous object which is seen in the sea far off in this direction, looking like a huge mountain equipped with wings rising at will out of the sea?" Then Satyavrata said: "Bráhman, this is a banyan-tree, [413] underneath it they say that there is a gigantic whirlpool, the mouth of the submarine fire. And we must take care in passing this way to avoid that spot, for those who once enter that whirlpool never return again." While Satyavrata was thus speaking, the ship began to be carried in that very direction by the force of the wind; [414] when Satyavrata saw this, he again said to Saktideva: "Bráhman, it is clear that the time of our destruction has now arrived, for see, this ship suddenly drifts [415] in that direction. And now I cannot anyhow prevent it, so we are certain to be cast into that deep whirlpool, as into the mouth of death, by the sea which draws us on as if it were mighty fate, the result of our deeds. And it grieves me not for myself, for whose body is continuing? But it grieves me to think that your desire has not been accomplished in spite of all your toils, so while I keep back this ship for a moment, quickly climb on to the boughs of this banyan-tree, perhaps some expedient may present itself for saving the life of one of such noble form, for who can calculate the caprices of fate or the waves of the sea?" While the heroic Satyavrata was saying this, the ship drew near the tree; at that moment Saktideva made a leap in his terror, and caught a broad branch of that marine banyan-tree, [416] but Satyavrata's body and ship, which he offered for another, were swept down into the whirlpool, and he entered the mouth of the submarine fire. But Saktideva, though he had escaped to the bough of that tree, which filled the regions with its branches, was full of despair and reflected--"I have not beheld that Golden City, and I am perishing in an uninhabited place, moreover I have also brought about the death of that king of the fishermen. Or rather who can resist the awful goddess of Destiny, that ever places her foot upon the heads of all men?" [417] While the Bráhman youth was thus revolving thoughts suited to the occasion on the trunk of the tree, the day came to an end. And in the evening he saw many enormous birds, of the nature of vultures, coming into that banyan-tree from all quarters, filling the sides of heaven with their cries, and the waves of the sea, that was lashed by the wind of their broad wings, appeared as if running to meet them out of affection produced by long acquaintance. Then he, concealed by the dense leaves, overheard the conversation of those birds perched on the branches, which was carried on in human language. One described some distant island, another a mountain, another a distant region as the place where he had gone to roam during the day, but an old bird among them said, "I went to-day to the Golden City to disport myself, and to-morrow morning I shall go there again to feed at my ease, for what is the use of my taking a long and fatiguing journey?" Saktideva's sorrow was removed by that speech of the bird's, which resembled a sudden shower of nectar, and he thought to himself, "Bravo! that city does exist, and now I have an instrument for reaching it, this gigantic bird given me as a means of conveyance." Thinking thus, Saktideva slowly advanced and hid himself among the back-feathers of that bird while it was asleep, and next morning, when the other birds went off in different directions, that vulture exhibiting a strange partiality to the Bráhman like destiny, [418] carrying Saktideva unseen on his back where he had climbed up, went immediately to the Golden City to feed again. [419] Then the bird alighted in a garden, and Saktideva got down from its back unobserved and left it, but while he was roaming about there, he saw two women engaged in gathering flowers; he approached them slowly, who were astonished at his appearance, and he asked them, "What place is this, good ladies, and who are you?" And they said to him: "Friend, this is a city called the Golden City, a seat of the Vidyádharas, and in it there dwells a Vidyádharí, named Chandraprabhá, and know that we are the gardeners in her garden, and we are gathering these flowers for her." Then the Bráhman said; "Obtain for me an interview with your mistress here." When they heard this, they consented, and the two women conducted the young man to the palace in their city. When he reached it, he saw that it was glittering with pillars of precious stones, and had walls of gold, [420] as it were the very rendezvous of prosperity. And all the attendants, when they saw him arrived there, went and told Chandraprabhá the marvellous tidings of the arrival of a mortal; then she gave a command to the warder, and immediately had the Bráhman brought into the palace and conducted into her presence; when he entered, he beheld her there giving a feast to his eyes, like the Creator's ability to create marvels, represented in bodily form. And she rose from her jewelled couch, while he was still far off, and honoured him with a welcome herself, overpowered by beholding him. And when he had taken a seat, she asked him, "Auspicious sir, who are you, that have come here in such guise, and how did you reach this land inaccessible to men?" When Chandraprabhá in her curiosity asked him this question, Saktideva told her his country and his birth and his name, and he related to her how he had come in order to obtain the princess Kanakarekhá as the reward of beholding the Golden City. When Chandraprabhá heard that, she thought a little and heaved a deep sigh, and said to Saktideva in private; "Listen, I am now about to tell you something, fortunate sir. There is in this land a king of the Vidyádharas named Sasikhanda, and we four daughters were born to him in due course; I am the eldest Chandraprabhá, and the next is Chandrarekhá, and the third is Sasirekhá and the fourth Sasiprabhá. We gradually grew up to womanhood in our father's house, and once upon a time those three sisters of mine went together to the shore of the Ganges to bathe, while I was detained at home by illness; then they began to play in the water, and in the insolence of youth they sprinkled with water a hermit named Agryatapas, while he was in the stream. That hermit in his wrath cursed those girls, who had carried their merriment too far, saying:--"You wicked maidens, be born all of you in the world of mortals." When our father heard that, he went and pacified the great hermit, and the hermit told how the curse of each of them severally should end, and appointed to each of them in her mortal condition the power of remembering her former existence, supplemented with divine insight. Then, they having left their bodies and gone to the world of men, my father bestowed on me this city, and in his grief went to the forest, but while I was dwelling here, the goddess Durgá informed me in a dream that a mortal should become my husband. For this reason, though my father has recommended to me many Vidyádhara suitors, I have rejected them all and remained unmarried up to this day. But now I am subdued by your wonderful arrival and by your handsome form, and I give myself to you; so I will go on the approaching fourteenth day of the lunar fortnight to the great mountain called Rishabha to entreat my father for your sake, for all the most excellent Vidyádharas assemble there from all quarters on that day to worship the god Siva, and my father comes there too, and after I have obtained his permission, I will return here quickly; then marry me. Now rise up." Having said this, Chandraprabhá supplied Saktideva with various kinds of luxuries suited to Vidyádharas, and while he remained there, he was as much refreshed, as one heated by a forest conflagration would be by bathing in a lake of nectar. And when the fourteenth day had arrived, Chandraprabhá said to him: "To-day I go to entreat my father's permission to marry you, and all my attendants will go with me. But you must not be grieved at being left alone for two days, moreover, while you remain alone in this palace, you must by no means ascend the middle terrace." When Chandraprabhá had said this to that young Bráhman, she set out on her journey leaving her heart with him, and escorted on her way by his. And Saktideva, remaining there alone, wandered from one magnificent part of the palace to another, to delight his mind; and then he felt a curiosity to know why that daughter of the Vidyádhara had forbidden him to ascend the roof of the palace, and so he ascended that middle terrace of the palace, for men are generally inclined to do that which is forbidden: and when he had ascended it, he saw three concealed pavilions, and he entered one of them, the door of which was open, and when he had entered it he saw a certain woman lying on a magnificently jewelled sofa, on which there was a mattress placed, whose body was hidden by a sheet. But when he lifted up the sheet and looked, he beheld lying dead in that guise that beautiful maiden, the daughter of king Paropakárin; and when he saw her there, he thought, "What is this great wonder? Is she sleeping a sleep from which there is no awaking, or is it a complete delusion on my part? That woman, for whose sake I have travelled to this foreign land, is lying here without breath, though she is alive in my own country, and she still retains her beauty unimpaired, so I may be certain that this is all a magic show, which the Creator for some reason or other exhibits to beguile me." Thinking thus, he proceeded to enter in succession those other two pavilions, and he beheld within them in the same way two other maidens; then he went in his astonishment out of the palace, and sitting down he remained looking at a very beautiful lake below it, and on its bank he beheld a horse with a jewelled saddle; so he descended immediately from where he was, and out of curiosity approached its side; and seeing that it had no rider on it, he tried to mount it, and that horse struck him with its heel and flung him into the lake. And after he had sunk beneath the surface of the lake, he quickly rose up to his astonishment from the middle of a garden-lake in his own city of Vardhamána; and he saw himself suddenly standing in the water of a lake in his own native city, like the kumuda plants, miserable without the light of the moon. [421] He reflected "How different is this city of Vardhamána from that city of the Vidyádharas! Alas! what is this great display of marvellous delusion? Alas! I, ill-fated wretch, am wonderfully deceived by some strange power; or rather, who on this earth knows what is the nature of destiny?" Thus reflecting Saktideva rose from the midst of the lake, and went in a state of wonder to his own father's house. There he made a false representation, giving as an excuse for his absence that he had been himself going about with a drum, and being gladly welcomed by his father he remained with his delighted relations; and on the second day he went outside his house, and heard again these words being proclaimed in the city by beat of drum,--"Let whoever, being a Bráhman or a Kshatriya, has really seen the Golden City, say so: the king will give him his daughter, and make him crown-prince." Then Saktideva hearing that, having successfully accomplished the task, again went and said to those who were proclaiming this by beat of drum,--"I have seen that city." And they took him before that king, and the king recognising him, supposed that he was again saying what was untrue, as he had done before. But he said--"If I say what is false, and if I have not really seen that city, I desire now to be punished with death; let the princess herself examine me." When he said this, the king went and had his daughter summoned by his servants. She, when she saw that Bráhman, whom she had seen before, again said to the king; "My father, he will tell us some falsehood again." Then Saktideva said to her,--"Princess, whether I speak truly or falsely, be pleased to explain this point which excites my curiosity. How is it that I saw you lying dead on a sofa in the golden city, and yet see you here alive?" When the princess Kanakarekhá had been asked this question by Saktideva, and furnished with this token of his truth, she said in the presence of her father: "It is true that this great-hearted one has seen that city, and in a short time he will be my husband, when I return to dwell there. And there he will marry my other three sisters; and he will govern as king the Vidyádharas in that city. But I must to-day enter my own body and that city, for I have been born here in your house owing to the curse of a hermit, who moreover appointed that my curse should end in the following way, 'When you shall be wearing a human form, and a man, having beheld your body in the Golden City, shall reveal the truth, then you shall be freed from your curse, and that man shall become your husband.' And though I am in a human body I remember my origin, and I possess supernatural knowledge, so I will now depart to my own Vidyádhara home, to a happy fortune." Saying this the princess left her body, and vanished, and a confused cry arose in the palace. And Saktideva, who had now lost both the maidens, thinking over the two beloved ones whom he had gained by various difficult toils, and who yet were not gained, and not only grieved but blaming himself, with his desires not accomplished, left the king's palace and in a moment went through the following train of thought: "Kanakarekhá said that I should attain my desire; so why do I despond, for success depends upon courage? I will again go to the Golden City by the same path, and destiny will without doubt again provide me with a means of getting there." Thus reflecting Saktideva set out from that city, for resolute men who have once undertaken a project do not turn back without accomplishing their object. And journeying on, he again reached after a long time that city named Vitankapura, situated on the shore of the sea. And there he saw the merchant coming to meet him, with whom he originally went to sea, and whose ship was wrecked there. He thought, "Can this be Samudradatta, and how can he have escaped after falling into the sea? But how can it be otherwise? I myself am a strange illustration of its possibility." While he approached the merchant thinking thus, the merchant recognised him, and embraced him in his delight, and he took him to his own house and after entertaining him, asked him--"When the ship foundered, how did you escape from the sea?" Saktideva then told him his whole history, how, after being swallowed by a fish, he first reached the island of Utsthala, and then he asked the good merchant in his turn: "Tell me also how you escaped from the sea." Then the merchant said, "After I fell into the sea that time, I remained floating for three days supported on a plank. Then a ship suddenly came that way, and I, crying out, was descried by those in her, and taken on board her. And when I got on board, I saw my own father who had gone to a distant island long before, and was now returning after a long absence. My father, when he saw me, recognised me, and embracing me asked my story with tears, and I told it him as follows--'My father, you had been away for a long time and had not returned, and so I set about trading myself, thinking it was my proper employment; then on my way to a distant island my ship was wrecked, and I was plunged in the sea, and you have found me and rescued me.' When I had said this to him, my father asked me reproachfully--'Why do you run such risks? For I possess wealth, my son, and I am engaged in acquiring it, see, I have brought you back this ship full of gold.' Thus spoke my father to me, and comforting me took me home in that very ship to my own dwelling in Vitankapura." When Saktideva had heard this account from the merchant, and had rested that night, he said to him on the next day--"Great merchant, I must once more go to the island of Utsthala, so tell me how I can get there now." The merchant said to him--"Some agents of mine are preparing to go there to-day, so go on board the ship, and set out with them." Thereupon the Bráhman set out with the merchant's agents to go to that island of Utsthala, and by chance the sons of the king of the fishermen saw him there, and when they were near him, they recognised him and said,--"Bráhman, you went with our father to search here and there for the Golden City, and how is it that you have come back here to-day alone?" Then Saktideva said, "Your father, when out at sea, fell into the mouth of the submarine fire, his ship having been dragged down by the current." When those sons of the fisher-king heard that, they were angry and said to their servants--"Bind this wicked man, for he has murdered our father. Otherwise how could it have happened that, when two men were in the same ship, one should have fallen into the mouth of the submarine fire, and the other escaped it. So we must to-morrow morning sacrifice our father's murderer in front of the goddess Durgá, treating him as a victim." Having said this to their servants, those sons of the fisher-king bound Saktideva, and took him off to the awful temple of Durgá, the belly of which was enlarged, as if it continually swallowed many lives, and which was like the mouth of death devouring tamála with projecting teeth. There Saktideva remained bound during the night in fear for his life, and he thus prayed to the goddess Durgá,--"Adorable one, granter of boons, thou didst deliver the world with thy form which was like the orb of the rising sun, appearing as if it had drunk its fill of the blood gushing freely from the throat of the giant Ruru; [422] therefore deliver me, thy constant votary, who have come a long distance out of desire to obtain my beloved, but am now fallen without cause into the power of my enemies." Thus he prayed to the goddess, and with difficulty went off to sleep, and in the night he saw a woman come out of the inner cell of the temple; that woman of heavenly beauty came up to him, and said with a compassionate manner, "Do not fear, Saktideva, no harm shall happen to you. The sons of that fisher-king have a sister named Vindumatí, that maiden shall see you in the morning and claim you for a husband, and you must agree to that, she will bring about your deliverance: and she is not of the fisher-caste: for she is a celestial female degraded in consequence of a curse." When he heard this, he woke up, and in the morning that fisher-maiden came to the temple, a shower of nectar to his eyes. And announcing herself, she came up to him and said in her eagerness, "I will have you released from this prison, therefore do what I desire. For I have refused all these suitors approved of by my brothers, but the moment I saw you, love arose in my soul, therefore marry me." When Vindumatí, the daughter of the fisher-king, said this to him, Saktideva remembering his dream, accepted her proposal gladly; she procured his release, and he married that fair one, whose wish was gratified by her brothers receiving the command to do so from Durgá in a dream. And he lived there with that heavenly creature that had assumed a human form, obtained solely by his merits in a former life, as if with happy success. And one day, as he was standing upon the roof of his palace, he saw a Chandála coming along with a load of cow's flesh, and he said to his beloved--"Look, slender one! how can this evildoer eat the flesh of cows, those animals that are the object of veneration to the three worlds?" Then Vindumatí, hearing that, said to her husband; "The wickedness of this act is inconceivable, what can we say in palliation of it. I have been born in this race of fishermen for a very small offence owing to the might of cows, but what can atone for this man's sin?" When she said this, Saktideva said to her;--"That is wonderful: tell me, my beloved, who you are, and how you came to be born in a family of fishermen." When he asked this with much importunity, she said to him, "I will tell you, though it is a secret, if you promise to do what I ask you." He affirmed with an oath; "Yes, I will do what you ask me." She then told him first what she desired him to do; "In this island you will soon marry another wife, and she, my husband, will soon became pregnant, and in the eighth month of her pregnancy you must cut her open and take out the child, and you must feel no compunction about it." Thus she said, and he was astonished, exclaiming, "What can this mean?" and he was full of horror, but that daughter of the fisher-king went on to say, "This request of mine you must perform for a certain reason; now hear who I am, and how I came to be born in a family of fishermen. Long ago in a former birth I was a certain Vidyádharí, and now I have fallen into the world of men in consequence of a curse. For when I was a Vidyádharí, I bit asunder some strings with my teeth and fastened them to lyres, and it is owing to that that I have been born here in the house of a fisherman. So, if such a degradation is brought about by touching the mouth with the dry sinew of a cow, much more terrible must be the result of eating cow's flesh!" While she was saying this, one of her brothers rushed in in a state of perturbation, and said to Saktideva, "Rise up, an enormous boar has appeared from somewhere or other, and after slaying innumerable persons is coming this way in its pride, towards us." When Saktideva heard that, he descended from his palace, and mounting a horse, spear in hand, [423] he galloped to meet the boar, and struck it the moment he saw it, but when the hero attacked him the boar fled, and managed, though wounded, to enter a cavern: and Saktideva entered there in pursuit of him, and immediately beheld a great garden-shrubbery with a house. And when he was there, he beheld a maiden of very wonderful beauty, coming in a state of agitation to meet him, as if it were the goddess of the wood advancing to receive him out of love. And he asked her,--"Auspicious lady, who are you, and why are you perturbed?"--Hearing that, the lovely one thus answered him; "There is a king of the name of Chandavikrama, lord of the southern region. I am his daughter, auspicious sir, a maiden named Vindurekhá. But a wicked Daitya, with flaming eyes, carried me off by treachery from my father's house to-day, and brought me here. And he, desiring flesh, assumed the form of a boar, and sallied out, but while he was still hungry, he was pierced with a spear to-day by some hero; and as soon as he was pierced, he came in here and died. And I rushed out and escaped without being outraged by him." Then Saktideva said to her, "Then why all this perturbation? For I slew that boar with a spear, princess." Then she said, "Tell me who you are," and he answered her "I am a Bráhman named Saktideva." Then she said to him, "You must accordingly become my husband," and the hero consenting went out of the cavern with her. And when he arrived at home, he told it to his wife Vindumatí, and with her consent he married that princess Vindurekhá. So, while Saktideva was living there with his two wives, one of his wives Vindurekhá became pregnant; and in the eighth month of her pregnancy, the first wife Vindumatí came up to him of her own accord and said to him, "Hero, remember what you promised me; this is the eighth month of the pregnancy of your second wife: so go and cut her open and bring the child here, for you cannot act contrary to your own word of honour." When she said this to Saktideva, he was bewildered by affection and compassion; but being bound by his promise he remained for a short time unable to give an answer; at last he departed in a state of agitation and went to Vindurekhá; and she seeing him come with troubled air, said to him, "Husband, why are you despondent to-day? Surely I know; you have been commissioned by Vindumatí to take out the child with which I am pregnant; and that you must certainly do, for there is a certain object in view, and there is no cruelty in it, so do not feel compunction; in proof of it, hear the following story of Devadatta." Story of Devadatta. Long ago there lived in the city of Kambuka a Bráhman named Haridatta; and the son of that auspicious man, who was named Devadatta, though he studied in his boyhood, was, as a young man, exclusively addicted to the vice of gaming. As he had lost his clothes and everything by gambling, he was not able to return to his father's house, so he entered once on a time an empty temple. And there he saw alone a great ascetic, named Jálapáda, who had attained many objects by magic, and he was muttering spells in a corner. So he went up to him slowly and bowed before him, and the ascetic, abandoning his habit of not speaking to any one, greeted him with a welcome; and after he had remained there a moment, the ascetic, seeing his trouble, asked him the cause, and he told him of his affliction produced by the loss of his wealth, which had been dissipated in gambling. Then the ascetic said to Devadatta; "My child, there is not wealth enough in the whole world to satisfy gamblers; but if you desire to escape from your calamity, do what I tell you, for I have made preparations to attain the rank of a Vidyádhara; so help me to accomplish this, O man of fortunate destiny, [424] you have only to obey my orders and then your calamities will be at an end." When the ascetic said this to him, Devadatta promised to obey him, and immediately took up his residence with him. And the next day the ascetic went into a corner of the cemetery and performed worship by night under a banyan-tree, and offered rice boiled in milk, and flung portions of the oblation towards the four cardinal points, after worshipping them, and said to the Bráhman who was in attendance on him; "You must worship here in this style every day, and say 'Vidyutprabhá, accept this worship.' And then I am certain that we shall both attain our ends;" having said this the ascetic went with him to his own house. Then Devadatta, consenting, went every day and duly performed worship at the foot of that tree, according to his instructions. And one day, at the end of his worship, the tree suddenly clave open, and a heavenly nymph came out of it before his eyes, and said, "My good sir, my mistress summons you to come to her." And then she introduced him into the middle of that tree. When he entered it, he beheld a heavenly palace made of jewels, and a beautiful lady within it reclining upon a sofa. And he immediately thought--"This may be the success of our enterprise incarnate in bodily form," but while he was thinking thus, that beautiful lady, receiving him graciously, rose with limbs on which the ornaments rang as if to welcome him, and seated him on her own sofa. And she said to him, "Illustrious sir, I am the maiden daughter of a king of the Yakshas, named Ratnavarsha, and I am known by the name of Vidyutprabhá; and this great ascetic Jálapáda was endeavouring to gain my favour, to him I will give the attainment of his ends, but you are the lord of my life. So, as you see my affection, marry me." When she said this, Devadatta consented, and did so. And he remained there some time, but when she became pregnant, he went to the great ascetic with the intention of returning, and in a state of terror he told him all that had happened, and the ascetic, desiring his own success, said to him, "My good sir, you have acted quite rightly, but go and cut open that Yakshí and taking out the embryo, bring it quickly here." The ascetic said this to him, and then reminded him of his previous promise, and being dismissed by him, the Bráhman returned to his beloved, and while he stood there despondent with reflecting on what he had to do, the Yakshí Vidyutprabhá of her own accord said to him;--"My husband, why are you cast down? I know, Jálapáda has ordered you to cut me open, so cut me open and take out this child, and if you refuse, I will do it myself, for there is an object in it." Though she said this to him, the Bráhman could not bring himself to do it, then she cut herself open and took out the child, and flung it down before him and said, "Take this, which will enable him who consumes it, to obtain the rank of a Vidyádhara. But I, though properly a Vidyádharí, have been born as a Yakshí owing to a curse, and this is the appointed end of my curse, strange as it is, for I remember my former existence. Now I depart to my proper home, but we two shall meet again in that place." Saying this Vidyutprabhá vanished from his eyes. And Devadatta took the child with sorrowful mind, and went to that ascetic Jálapáda, and gave it to him, as that which would ensure the success of his incantations, for good men do not even in calamity give way to selfishness. The great ascetic divided the child's flesh, and sent Devadatta to the wood to worship Durgá in her terrific form. And when the Bráhman came back after presenting an oblation, he saw that the ascetic had made away with all the flesh. And while he said--"What, have you consumed it all?" the treacherous Jálapáda, having become a Vidyádhara, ascended to heaven. When he had flown up, with sword blue as the sky, adorned with necklace and bracelet, Devadatta reflected, "Alas! how I have been deceived by this evil-minded one! Or rather on whom does not excessive compliance entail misfortune? So how can I revenge myself on him for this ill turn, and how can I reach him who has become a Vidyádhara? Well! I have no other resource in this matter except propitiating a Vetála." [425] After he had made up his mind to do this, he went at night to the cemetery. There he summoned at the foot of a tree a Vetála into the body of a man, and after worshipping him, he made an oblation of human flesh to him. And as that Vetála was not satisfied, and would not wait for him to bring more, he prepared to cut off his own flesh in order to gratify him. And immediately that Vetála said to that brave man;--"I am pleased with this courage of yours, do not act recklessly. So, my good sir, what desire have you for me to accomplish for you?" When the Vetála said this, the hero answered him; "Take me to the dwelling-place of the Vidyádharas, where is the ascetic Jálapáda, who deceives those that repose confidence in him, in order that I may punish him." The Vetála consented, and placing him on his shoulder, carried him through the air in a moment to the dwelling of the Vidyádharas; and there he saw Jálapáda in a palace, seated on a jewelled throne, elated at being a king among the Vidyádharas, endeavouring by various speeches to induce that Vidyutprabhá, [426] who had obtained the rank of a Vidyádharí, to marry him in spite of her reluctance. And the moment that the young man saw him, he attacked him with the help of the Vetála, being to the eyes of the delighted Vidyutprabhá, what the moon, the repository of nectar, is to the partridges. [427] And Jálapáda beholding him suddenly arrived in this way, dropped his sword in his fright, and fell from his throne on the floor. But Devadatta, though he had obtained his sword, did not slay him, for the great-hearted feel pity even for their enemies when they are terrified. And when the Vetála wanted to kill him, he dissuaded him, and said, "Of what use will it be to us to kill this miserable heretic? So take him and place him in his own house on earth, it is better that this wicked skull-bearing ascetic should remain there." At the very moment that Devadatta was saying this, the goddess Durgá descended from heaven and appeared to him, and said to him who bent before her, "My son, I am satisfied with thee now, on account of this incomparable courage of thine; so I give thee on the spot the rank of king of the Vidyádharas." Having said this, she bestowed the magic sciences [428] on him, and immediately disappeared. And the Vetála immediately took Jálapáda, whose splendour fell from him, and placed him on earth; (wickedness does not long ensure success;) and Devadatta accompanied by Vidyutprabhá, having obtained that sovereignty of the Vidyádharas, flourished in his kingdom. Having told this story to her husband Saktideva, the softly-speaking Vindurekhá again said to him with eagerness; "Such necessities do arise, so cut out this child of mine as Vindumatí told you, without remorse." When Vindurekhá said this, Saktideva was afraid of doing wrong, but a voice sounded from heaven at this juncture, "O Saktideva, take out this child without fear, and seize it by the neck with your hand, then it will turn into a sword." Having heard this divine voice, he cut her open; and quickly taking out the child, he seized it by the throat with his hand; and no sooner did he seize it, than it became a sword in his hand; like the long hair of Good Fortune seized by him with an abiding grasp. Then that Bráhman quickly became a Vidyádhara, and Vindurekhá that moment disappeared. And when he saw that, he went, as he was, to his second wife Vindumatí, and told her the whole story. She said to him, "My lord, we are three sisters, the daughter of a king of the Vidyádharas, who have been banished from Kanakapurí in consequence of a curse. The first was Kanakarekhá, the termination of whose curse you beheld in the city of Vardhamána; and she has gone to that city of hers, her proper home. For such was the strange end of her curse, according to the dispensation of fate, and I am the third sister, and now my curse is at an end. And this very day I must go to that city of mine, my beloved, for there our Vidyádhara bodies remain. And my elder sister, Chandraprabhá, is dwelling there; so you also must come there quickly by virtue of the magic power of your sword. And you shall rule in that city, after obtaining all four of us as wives, bestowed upon you by our father who has retired to the forest, and others in addition to us." Thus Vindumatí declared the truth about herself, and Saktideva consenting, went again to the City of Gold, this time through the air, together with that Vindumatí. And when he arrived, he again saw those three darlings of his bending before him, Kanakarekhá and the others, after entering with their souls, as was fitting, those heavenly female bodies, which he saw on a former occasion extended lifeless on the couches in those three pavilions. And he saw that fourth sister there, Chandraprabhá, who had performed auspicious ceremonies, and was drinking in his form with an eye rendered eager by seeing him after so long an absence. His arrival was joyfully hailed by the servants, who were occupied in their several duties, as well as by the ladies, and when he entered the private apartments, that Chandraprabhá said to him--"Noble sir, here is that princess Kanakarekhá, who was seen by you in the city of Vardhamána, my sister called Chandrarekhá. And here is that daughter of the fisher king, Vindumatí, whom you first married in the island of Utsthala, my sister Sasirekhá. And here is my youngest sister Sasiprabhá, the princess who after that was brought there by the Dánava, and then became your wife. So now come, successful hero, with us into the presence of our father, and quickly marry us all, when bestowed upon you by him." When Chandraprabhá had swiftly and boldly uttered this decree of Cupid, Saktideva went with those four to the recesses of the wood to meet their father, and their father, the king of the Vidyádharas, having been informed of the facts by all his daughters who bowed at his feet, and also moved by a divine voice, with delighted soul gave them all at once to Saktideva. Immediately after that, he bestowed on Saktideva his opulent realm in the City of Gold, and all his magic sciences, and he gave the successful hero his name, by which he was henceforth known among his Vidyádharas. And he said to him; "No one else shall conquer thee, but from the mighty lord of Vatsa there shall spring a universal emperor, who shall reign among you here under the title of Naraváhanadatta and be thy superior, to him alone wilt thou have to submit." With these words the mighty lord of the Vidyádharas, named Sasikhandapada, dismissed his son-in-law from the wood where he was practising asceticism, after entertaining him kindly, that he might go with his wives to his own capital. Then that Saktivega, having become a king, entered the City of Gold, that glory of the Vidyádhara world, proceeding thither with his wives. Living in that city, the palaces of which gleamed with fabric of gold, which seemed on account of its great height to be the condensed rays of the sun falling in brightness, he enjoyed exceeding happiness with those fair-eyed wives, in charming gardens, the lakes of which had steps made out of jewels. Having thus related his wonderful history, the eloquent Saktivega went on to say to the king of Vatsa, "Know me, O lord of Vatsa, ornament of the lunar race, to be that very Saktideva come here, full of desire to behold the two feet of your son who is just born, and is destined to be our new emperor. Thus I have obtained, though originally a man, the rank of sovereign among the Vidyádharas by the favour of Siva: and now, O king, I return to my own home; I have seen our future lord; may you enjoy unfailing felicity." After finishing his tale, Saktivega said this with clasped hands, and receiving permission to depart, immediately flew up into the sky like the moon in brightness, and then the king of Vatsa in the company of his wives, surrounded by his ministers, and with his young son, enjoyed, in his own capital a state of indescribable felicity. BOOK VI. CHAPTER XXVII. May the god with the face of an elephant, [429] who appears, with his head bowed down and then raised, to be continually threatening the hosts of obstacles, protect you. I adore the god of Love, pierced with the showers of whose arrows even the body of Siva seems to bristle with dense thorns, when embraced by Umá. Now hear the heavenly adventures which Naraváhanadatta, speaking of himself in the third person, told from the very beginning, after he had obtained the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas, and had been questioned about the story of his life on some occasion or other by the seven Rishis and their wives. Then that Naraváhanadatta being carefully brought up by his father, passed his eighth year. The prince lived at that time with the sons of the ministers, being instructed in sciences, and sporting in gardens. And the queen Vásavadattá and Padmávatí also on account of their exceeding affection were devoted to him day and night. He was distinguished by a body which was sprung from a noble stock, and bent under the weight of his growing virtues, and gradually filled out, as also by a bow which was made of a good bamboo, which bent as the string rose, and slowly arched itself into a crescent. [430] And his father the king of Vatsa spent his time in wishes for his marriage and other happiness, delightful because so soon to bear fruit. Now hear what happened at this point of the story. Story of the merchant's son in Takshasilá. There was once a city named Takshasilá [431] on the banks of the Vitastá, the reflection of whose long line of palaces gleamed in the waters of the river, as if it were the capital of the lower regions come to gaze at its splendour. In it there dwelt a king named Kalingadatta, a distinguished Buddhist, all whose subjects were devoted to the great Buddha the bridegroom of Tárá. [432] His city shone with splendid Buddhist temples densely crowded together, as if with the horns of pride elevated because it had no rival upon earth. He not only cherished his subjects like a father, but also himself taught them knowledge like a spiritual guide. Moreover there was in that city a certain rich Buddhist merchant called Vitastadatta, who was exclusively devoted to the honouring of Buddhist mendicants. And he had a son, a young man named Ratnadatta. And he was always expressing his detestation of his father, calling him an impious man. And when his father said to him, "Son, why do you blame me?"--the merchant's son answered with bitter scorn, "My father, you abandon the religion of the three Vedas and cultivate irreligion. For you neglect the Bráhmans and are always honouring Sramanas. [433] What have you to do with that Buddhist discipline, which all kinds of low-caste men resort to, to gratify their desire to have a convent to dwell in, released from bathing and other strict ordinances, loving to feed whenever it is convenient, [434] rejecting the Bráhmanical lock and other prescribed methods of doing the hair, quite at ease with only a rag round their loins?" When the merchant heard that he said--"Religion is not confined to one form; a transcendent religion is a different thing from a religion that embraces the whole world. People say that Bráhmanism too consists in avoiding passion and other sins, in truth, and compassion to creatures, not in quarrelling causelessly with one's relations. [435] Moreover you ought not to blame generally that school which I follow, which extends security to all creatures, on account of the fault of an individual. Nobody questions the propriety of conferring benefits, and my beneficence consists simply in giving security to creatures. So, if I take exceeding pleasure in this system, the principal characteristic of which is abstinence from injuring any creature, and which brings liberation, wherein am I irreligious in doing so?" When his father said this to him, that merchant's son obstinately refused to admit it, and only blamed his father all the more. Then his father, in disgust, went and reported the whole matter to the king Kalingadatta, who superintended the religion of his people. The king, for his part, summoned on some pretext the merchant's son into his judgement-hall, and feigning an anger he did not feel, said to the executioner, "I have heard that this merchant's son is wicked and addicted to horrible crimes, so slay him without mercy as a corrupter of the realm." When the king had said this, the father interceded, and then the king appointed that the execution should be put off for two months, in order that he might learn virtue, and entrusted the merchant's son to the custody of his father, to be brought again into his presence at the end of that time. The merchant's son, when he had been taken home to his father's house, was distracted with fear, and kept thinking, "What crime can I have committed against the king?" and pondering over his causeless execution which was to take place at the end of two months; and so he could get no sleep day or night, and was exhausted by taking less than his usual food at all times. Then, the reprieve of two months having expired, that merchant's son was again taken, thin and pale, into the presence of the king. And the king seeing him in such a depressed state said to him--"Why have you become so thin? Did I order you not to eat?" When the merchant's son heard that, he said to the king--"I forgot myself for fear, much more my food. Ever since I heard your majesty order my execution, I have been thinking every day of death slowly advancing." When the merchant's son said this, the king said to him, "I have by an artifice made you teach yourself what the fear of death is. [436] Such must be the fear which every living creature entertains of death, and tell me what higher piety can there be than the benefit of preserving creatures from that? So I shewed you this in order that you might acquire religion and the desire of salvation, [437] for a wise man being afraid of death strives to attain salvation. Therefore you must not blame your father who follows this religion." When the merchant's son heard this, he bowed and said to the king--"Your majesty has made me a blessed man by teaching me religion, and now a desire for salvation has arisen in me, teach me that also, my lord." When the king heard that, as it was a feast in the city, he gave a vessel full of oil into the hand of the merchant's son and said to him, "Take this vessel in your hand and walk all round this city, and you must avoid spilling a single drop of it, my son; if you spill one drop of it, these men will immediately cut you down." [438] Having said this, the king dismissed the merchant's son to walk round the city, ordering men with drawn swords to follow him. The merchant's son, in his fear, took care to avoid spilling a drop of oil, and having perambulated that city with much difficulty, returned into the presence of the king. The king, when he saw that he had brought the oil without spilling it, said to him: "Did you see any one to-day, as you went along in your perambulation of the city?" When the merchant's son heard that, he clasped his hands, and said to the king--"In truth, my lord, I neither saw nor heard any thing, for at the time when I was perambulating the city I had my undivided attention fixed on avoiding spilling a drop of oil, lest the swords should descend upon me." When the merchant's son said this, the king said to him; "Because your whole soul was intent on looking at the oil, you saw nothing. So practise religious contemplation with the same undivided attention. For a man, who with intent concentration averts his attention from all outward operations, has intuition of the truth, and after that intuition he is not entangled again in the meshes of works. Thus I have given you in a compendious form instruction in the doctrine of salvation." Thus the king spoke and dismissed him, and the merchant's son fell at his feet and went home rejoicing to his father's house, having attained all his objects. This Kalingadatta, who superintended in this way the religion of his subjects, had a wife named Tárádattá, of equal birth with the king, who being politic and well-conducted, was such an ornament to the king as language is to a poet, who delights in numerous illustrations. She was meritorious for her bright qualities and was inseparable from that beloved king, being to him what the moonlight is to the moon, the receptacle of nectar. The king lived happily there with that queen, and passed his days like Indra with Sachí in heaven. Story of the Apsaras Surabhidattá. At this point of my tale Indra, for some cause or other, had a great feast in heaven. All the Apsarases assembled there to dance, except one beautiful Apsaras named Surabhidattá, who was not to be seen there. Then Indra by his divine power of insight perceived her associating in secret with a certain Vidyádhara in Nandana. When Indra saw it, wrath arose in his bosom, and he thought--"Ah! these two, blinded with love, are both wicked: the Apsaras, because forgetting us she acts in a wilful manner, the Vidyádhara, because he enters the domain of the gods and commits improprieties. Or rather, what fault is that miserable Vidyádhara guilty of? For she has enticed him here, ensnaring him with her beauty. A lovely one will sweep away with the sea of her beauty, flowing between the lofty banks of her breasts, even one who can restrain his passions. Was not even Siva disturbed long ago when he beheld Tilottamá, whom the Creator made by taking an atom from all the noblest beings? [439] And did not Visvámitra leave his asceticism when he beheld Menaká? And did not Yayáti come to old age for love of Sarmishtá? So this young Vidyádhara has committed no crime in allowing himself to be allured by an Apsaras with her beauty, which is able to bewilder the three worlds. [440] But this heavenly nymph is in fault, wicked creature, void of virtue, who has deserted the gods, and introduced this fellow into Nandana." Thus reflecting, the lover of Ahalyá [441] spared the Vidyádhara youth, but cursed that Apsaras in the following words: "Wicked one, take upon thyself a mortal nature, but after thou hast obtained a daughter not sprung from the womb, and hast accomplished the object of the gods, thou shalt return to this heaven." In the meanwhile Tárádattá, the consort of that king in the city of Takshasilá, reached the period favourable for procreation. And Surabhidattá, the Apsaras who had been degraded from heaven by the curse of Indra, was conceived in her, giving beauty to her whole body. Then Tárádattá beheld in a dream a flame descending from heaven and entering into her womb; and in the morning she described with astonishment her dream to her husband, the king Kalingadatta; and he being pleased said to her,--"Queen, heavenly beings owing to a curse fall into human births, so I am persuaded that this is some divine being conceived in you. For beings, bound by various works, good and evil, are ever revolving in the state of mundane existence in these three worlds, to receive fruits blessed and miserable." When the queen was thus addressed by the king, she took the opportunity of saying to him; "It is true, actions, good and bad, have a wonderful power, producing the perception of joy and sorrow, [442] and in proof of it I will tell you this illustration, listen to me." Story of king Dharmadatta and his wife Nágasrí. There once lived a king named Dharmadatta, the lord of Kosala; he had a queen named Nágasrí, who was devoted to her husband and was called Arundhatí on the earth, as, like her, she was the chief of virtuous women. And in course of time, O slayer of your enemies, I was born as the daughter of that king by that queen; then, while I was a mere child, that mother of mine suddenly remembered her former birth and said to her husband; "O king, I have suddenly to-day remembered my former birth; it is disagreeable to me not to tell it, but if I do tell it, it will cause my death, because they say that, if a person suddenly remembers his or her former birth and tells it, it surely brings death. Therefore, king, I feel excessively despondent." When his queen said this to him, the king answered her; "My beloved, I, like you, have suddenly remembered my former birth; therefore tell me yours, and I will tell you mine, let what will be, be; for who can alter the decree of fate." When thus urged by her husband, the queen said to him, "If you press the matter, king, then I will tell you, listen. "In my former birth I was a well-conducted female slave in this very land, in the house of a certain Bráhman named Mádhava. And in that birth I had a husband named Devadása, an excellent hired servant in the house of a certain merchant. And so we two dwelled there, having built a house that suited us, living on the cooked rice brought from the houses of our respective masters. A water vessel and a pitcher, a broom and a brazier, and I and my husband, formed three couples. We lived happy and contented in our house into which the demon of quarrelling never entered, eating the little food that remained over after we had made offerings to the gods, the manes and guests. "And any clothes which either of us had over, we gave to some poor person or other. Then there arose a grievous famine in our country, and owing to that the allowance of food, which we had to receive every day, began to come to us in small quantities. Then our bodies became attenuated by hunger, and we began to despond in mind, when once on a time at meal-time there arrived a weary Bráhman guest. To him we both gave all our own food, as much as we had, though we were in danger of our lives. When the Bráhman had eaten and departed, my husband's breath left him, as if angry that he respected a guest more than it. And then I heaped up in honour of my husband a suitable pyre, and ascended it, and so laid down the load of my own calamity. Then I was born in a royal family, and I became your queen, for the tree of good deeds produces to the righteous inconceivably glorious fruit." When his queen said this to him, the king Dharmadatta said--"Come, my beloved, I am that husband of thine in a former birth; I was that very Devadása the merchant's servant, for I have remembered this moment this former existence of mine." Having said this, and mentioned the tokens of his own identity, the king, despondent and yet glad, suddenly went with his queen to heaven. "In this way my parents went to another world, and my mother's sister brought me to her own house to rear me, and while I was unmarried, there came there a certain Bráhman guest, and my mother's sister ordered me to wait on him. And I diligently strove to please him as Kuntí to please Durvásas, and owing to a boon conferred by him, I obtained you, a virtuous husband. Thus good fortune is the result of virtue, owing to which my parents were both born at the same time in royal families, and also remembered their former birth." Having heard this speech of the queen Tárádattá, the king Kalingadatta, who was exclusively devoted to righteousness, answered her, "It is true, a trifling act of righteousness duly performed will bring much fruit, and in proof of this, O queen, hear the ancient tale of the seven Bráhmans." Story of the seven Bráhmans who devoured a cow in time of famine. [443] Long ago, in a city called Kundina, a certain Bráhman teacher had for pupils seven sons of Bráhmans. Then that teacher, under pressure of famine, sent those pupils to ask his father-in-law, who was rich in cows, to give him one. And those pupils of his went, with their bellies pinched by hunger, to his father-in-law, who dwelt in another land, and asked him, as their teacher had ordered them, for a cow. He gave them one cow to support them, but the miserly fellow did not give them food, though they were hungry. Then they took the cow, and as they were returning and had accomplished half the journey, being excessively pained by hunger, they fell exhausted on the earth. They said--"Our teacher's house is far off, and we are afflicted by calamity far from home, and food is hard to obtain everywhere, so it is all over with our lives. And in the same way this cow is certain to die in this wilderness without water, wood, or human beings, and our teacher will not derive even the smallest advantage from it. So let us support our lives with its flesh, and quickly restore our teacher and his family with what remains over: for it is a time of sore distress." Having thus deliberated, those seven students treated that cow as a victim, and sacrificed it on the spot according to the system prescribed in the sacred treatises. After sacrificing to the gods and manes, and eating its flesh according to the prescribed method, they went and took what remained of it to their teacher. They bowed before him, and told him all that they had done, to the letter, and he was pleased with them, because they told the truth, though they had committed a fault. And after seven days they died of famine, but because they told the truth on that occasion, they were born again with the power of remembering their former birth. "Thus even a small germ of merit, watered with the water of holy aspiration, bears fruit to men in general, as a seed to cultivators, but the same corrupted by the water of impure aspiration bears fruit in the form of misfortune, and à propos of this I will tell you another tale, listen!" Story of the two ascetics, one a Bráhman the other a Chandála. Once on a time two men remained for the same length of time fasting on the banks of the Ganges, one a Bráhman and the other a Chandála. Of those two, the Bráhman being overpowered with hunger, and seeing some Nishádas [444] come that way bringing fish and eating them, thus reflected in his folly--"O happy in the world are these fishermen, sons of female slaves though they be, for they eat to their fill of the fresh meat of fish!" But the other, who was a Chandála, thought, the moment he saw those fishermen, "Out on these destroyers of life, and devourers of raw flesh! So why should I stand here and behold their faces?" Saying this to himself, he closed his eyes and remained buried in his own thoughts. And in course of time those two, the Bráhman and the Chandála, died of starvation; the Bráhman was eaten by dogs on the bank, the Chandála rotted in the water of the Ganges. So that Bráhman, not having disciplined his spirit, was born in the family of a fisherman, but owing to the virtue of the holy place, he remembered his former existence. As for that Chandála, who possessed self-control, and whose mind was not marred by passion, he was born as a king in a palace on that very bank of the Ganges, and recollected his former birth. And of those two, who were born with a remembrance of their former existence, the one suffered misery being a fisherman, the other being a king enjoyed happiness. "Such is the root of the tree of virtue; according to the purity or impurity of a man's heart is without doubt the fruit which he receives." Having said this to the queen Tárádattá, king Kalingadatta again said to her in the course of conversation,--"Moreover actions which are really distinguished by great courage produce fruit, since prosperity follows on courage; and to illustrate this I will tell the following wonderful tale. Listen!" Story of king Vikramasinha and the two Bráhmans. There is in Avanti a city named Ujjayiní, famous in the world, which is the dwelling-place of Siva, [445] and which gleams with its white palaces as if with the peaks of Kailása, come thither in the ardour of their devotion to the god. This vast city, profound as the sea, having a splendid emperor for its water, had hundreds of armies entering it, as hundreds of rivers flow into the sea, and was the refuge of allied kings, as the sea is of mountains that retain their wings. [446] In that city there was a king who had the name of Vikramasinha, [447] a name that thoroughly expressed his character, for his enemies were like deer and never met him in fight. And he, because he could never find any enemy to face him, became disgusted with weapons and the might of his arm, and was inwardly grieved as he never obtained the joy of battle. Then his minister Amaragupta, who discovered his longing, said to him incidentally in the course of conversation--"King, it is not hard for kings to incur guilt, if through pride in their strong arms, and confidence in their skill in the use of weapons, they even long for enemies; in this way Bána in old time, through pride in his thousand arms, propitiated Siva and asked for an enemy that was a match for him in fight, until at last his prayer was actually granted, and Vishnu became his enemy, and cut off his innumerable arms in battle. So you must not shew dissatisfaction because you do not obtain an opportunity of fighting, and a terrible enemy must never be desired. If you want to shew here your skill in weapons and your strength, shew it in the forest an appropriate field for it, and in hunting. And since kings are not generally exposed to fatigue, hunting is approved to give them exercise and excitement, but warlike expeditions are not recommended. Moreover the malignant wild animals desire that the earth should be depopulated, for this reason the king should slay them; on this ground too hunting is approved. But wild animals should not be too unremittingly pursued, for it was owing to the vice of exclusive devotion to hunting that former kings, Pándu and others, met destruction." When the wise minister Amaragupta said this to him, the king Vikramasinha approved the advice saying--"I will do so." And the next day the king went out of the city to hunt, to a district beset with horses, footmen and dogs, and where all the quarters were filled with the pitching of various nets, and he made the heaven resound with the shouts of joyous huntsmen. And as he was going out on the back of an elephant, he saw two men sitting together in private in an empty temple outside the walls. And the king, as he beheld them from afar, supposed that they were only deliberating together over something at their leisure, and passed on to the forest where his hunting was to be. There he was delighted with the drawn swords, and with the old tigers, and the roaring of lions, and the scenery, and the elephants. He strewed that ground with pearls fallen from the nails of elephant-slaying lions whom he killed, resembling the seeds of his prowess. The deer leaping sideways, being oblique-goers, [448] went obliquely across his path; his straight-flying arrow easily transfixing them first, reached afterwards the mark of delight. And after the king had long enjoyed the sport of hunting, he returned, as his servants were weary, with slackened bowstring to the city of Ujjayiní. There he saw those two men, whom he had seen as he was going out, who had remained the whole time in the temple occupied in the same way. He thought to himself--"Who are these, and why do they deliberate so long? Surely they must be spies, having a long talk over secrets." So he sent his warder, and had those men captured and brought into his presence, and then thrown into prison. And the next day he had them brought into his judgement-hall, and asked them--"Who are you and why did you deliberate together so long?" When the king in person asked them this, they entreated him to spare their lives, and one of these young men began to say; "Hear, O king, I will now tell the whole story as it happened. "There lived a Bráhman, of the name of Karabhaka, in this very city of yours. I, whom you see here, am the son of that learned student of the Vedas, born by his propitiating the god of fire in order to obtain a heroic son. And, when my father went to heaven, and his wife followed him, [449] I being a mere boy, though I had learned the sciences, abandoned the course of life suited to my caste, because I was friendless. And I set myself to practise gaming and the use of arms; what boy does not become self-willed if he is not kept in order by some superior? And, having passed my childhood in this way, I acquired overweening confidence in my prowess, and went one day to the forest to practise archery. And while I was thus engaged, a bride came out of the city in a covered palanquin, surrounded by many attendants of the bridegroom. And suddenly an elephant, that had broken its chain, came from some quarter or other at that very moment, and attacked that bride in its fury. And through fear of that elephant, all those cowardly attendants and her husband with them deserted the bride, and fled in all directions. When I saw that, I immediately said to myself in my excitement,--'What! have these miserable wretches left this unfortunate woman alone? So I must defend this unprotected lady from this elephant. For what is the use of life or courage, unless employed to succour the unfortunate?' Thus reflecting I raised a shout and ran towards that huge elephant; and the elephant, abandoning the woman, charged down upon me. Then I, before the eyes of that terrified woman, shouted and ran, and so drew off that elephant to a distance, at last I got hold of a bough of a tree thickly covered with leaves, which had been broken off, and covering myself with it, I went into the middle of the tree; and placing the bough in front of me, I escaped by a dexterous oblique movement, while the elephant trampled the bough to pieces. Then I quickly went to that lady, who remained terrified there, and asked her whether she had escaped without injury. She, when she saw me, said with afflicted and yet joyful manner; 'How can I be said to be uninjured, now that I have been bestowed on this coward, who has deserted me in such straits, and fled somewhere or other; but so far at any rate I am uninjured, that I again behold you unharmed. So my husband is nothing to me; you henceforth are my husband, by whom regardless of your life, I have been delivered from the jaws of death. And here I see my husband coming with his servants, so follow us slowly; for when we get an opportunity, you and I will elope somewhere together.' When she said this, I consented. I ought to have thought--'Though this woman is beautiful, and flings herself at my head, yet she is the wife of another; what have I to do with her?' But this is the course of calm self-restraint, not of ardent youth. And in a moment her husband came up and greeted her, and she proceeded to continue her journey with him and his servants. And I, without being detected, followed her through her long journey, being secretly supplied with provisions for the journey by her, though I passed for some one unconnected with her. And she, throughout the journey, falsely asserted that she suffered pain in her limbs, from a strain produced by falling in her terror at the elephant, and so avoided even touching her husband. A passionate woman, like a female snake, terrible from the condensed venom she accumulates within, will never, if injured, neglect to wreak her vengeance. And in course of time we reached the city of Lohanagara, where was the house of the husband of that woman, who lived by trading. And we all remained during that day in a temple outside the walls. And there I met my friend this second Bráhman. And though we had never met before, we felt a confidence in one another at first sight; the heart of creatures recognises friendships formed in a previous birth. Then I told him all my secret. When he heard it, he said to me of his own accord; 'Keep the matter quiet, I know of a device by which you can attain the object for which you came here; I know here the sister of this lady's husband. She is ready to fly from this place with me, and take her wealth with her. So with her help I will accomplish your object for you.' "When the Bráhman had said this to me, he departed, and secretly informed the merchant's wife's sister-in-law of the whole matter. And on the next day the sister-in-law, according to arrangement, came with her brother's wife and introduced her into the temple. And while we were there, she made my friend at that very time, which was the middle of the day, put on the dress of her brother's wife. And she took him so disguised into the city, and went into the house in which her brother lived, after arranging what we were to do. But I left the temple, and fleeing with the merchant's wife dressed as a man, reached at last this city of Ujjayiní. And her sister-in-law at night fled with my friend from that house, in which there had been a feast, and so the people were in a drunken sleep. "And then he came with her by stealthy journeys to this city; so we met here. In this way we two have obtained our two wives in the bloom of youth, the sister-in-law and her brother's wife, who bestowed themselves on us out of affection. Consequently, king, we are afraid to dwell anywhere; for whose mind is at ease after performing deeds of reckless temerity? So the king saw us yesterday from a distance, while we were debating about a place to dwell in, and how we should subsist. And your majesty, seeing us, had us brought and thrown into prison on the suspicion of being thieves, and to-day we have been questioned about our history, and I have just told it; now it is for your highness to dispose of us at pleasure." When one of them had said this, the king Vikramasinha said to those two Bráhmans,--"I am satisfied, do not be afraid, remain in this city, and I will give you abundance of wealth." When the king had said this, he gave them as much to live on as they wished, and they lived happily in his court accompanied by their wives. "Thus prosperity dwells for men even in questionable deeds, if they are the outcome of great courage, and thus kings, being satisfied, take pleasure in giving to discreet men who are rich in daring. And thus this whole created world with the gods and demons will always reap various fruits, corresponding exactly to their own stock of deeds good or bad, performed in this or in a former birth. So rest assured, queen, that the flame which was seen by you falling from heaven in your dream, and apparently entering your womb, is some creature of divine origin, that owing to some influence of its works has been conceived in you." The pregnant queen Tárádattá, when she heard this from the mouth of her own husband Kalingadatta, was exceedingly delighted. CHAPTER XXVIII. Then the queen Tárádattá, the consort of king Kalingadatta in Takshasilá, slowly became oppressed with the burden of her unborn child. And she, now that her delivery was near, being pale of countenance, with tremulous eyeballs, [450] resembled the East in which the pale streak of the young moon is about to rise. And there was soon born from her a daughter excelling all others, like a specimen of the Creator's power to produce all beauty. The lights kept burning to protect the child against evil spirits, blazing with oil, [451] were eclipsed by her beauty, and darkened, as if through grief that a son of equal beauty had not been born instead. And her father Kalingadatta, when he saw her born, beautiful though she was, was filled with despondency at the disappointment of his hope to obtain a son like her. Though he divined that she was of heavenly origin, he was grieved because he longed for a son. For a son, being embodied joy, is far superior to a daughter, that is but a lump of grief. Then in his affliction, the king went out of his palace to divert his mind, and he entered a monastery full of many images of Buddha. In a certain part of the monastery, he heard this speech being uttered by a begging hermit, who was a religious preacher, as he sat in the midst of his hearers. "They say that the bestowal of wealth in this world is great asceticism; a man who gives wealth is said to give life, for life depends on wealth. And Buddha, with mind full of pity, offered up himself for another, as if he were worthless straw, much more should one offer up sordid pelf. And it was by such resolute asceticism, that Buddha, having got rid of desire, and obtained heavenly insight, attained the rank of a Buddha. Therefore a wise man should do what is beneficial to other beings, by abstaining from selfish aspirations even so far as to sacrifice his own body, in order that he may obtain perfect insight." Story of the seven princesses. Thus, long ago, there were born in succession to a certain king named Krita seven very beautiful princesses, and even while they were still youthful they abandoned, in disgust with life, the house of their father, and went to the cemetery, and when they were asked why they did it, they said to their retinue--"This world is unreal, and in it this body, and such delights as union with the beloved are the baseless fabric of a dream; only the good of others in this revolving world is pronounced to be real; so let us with these bodies of ours do good to our fellow creatures, let us fling these bodies, while they are alive, to the eaters of raw flesh [452] in the cemetery; what is the use of them, lovely though they be?" Story of the prince who tore out his own eye. For there lived in old time a certain prince who was disgusted with the world, and he, though young and handsome, adopted the life of a wandering hermit. Once on a time that beggar entered the house of a certain merchant, and was beheld by his young wife with his eyes long as the leaf of a lotus. She, with heart captivated by the beauty of his eyes said to him, "How came such a handsome man as you to undertake such a severe vow as this? Happy is the woman who is gazed upon with this eye of yours!" When the begging hermit was thus addressed by the lady, he tore out one eye, and holding it in his hand, said, "Mother, behold this eye, such as it is; take the loathsome mass of flesh and blood, if it pleases you. [453] And the other is like it; say, what is there attractive in these?" When he said this to the merchant's wife, and she saw the eye, she was despondent, and said, "Alas! I, unhappy wretch that I am, have done an evil deed, in that I have become the cause of the tearing out of your eye!" When the beggar heard that, he said,--"Mother, do not be grieved, for you have done me a benefit; hear the following example, to prove the truth of what I say." Story of the ascetic who conquered anger. There lived long ago, in a certain beautiful garden on the banks of the Ganges, a hermit animated by the desire of experiencing all asceticism. And while he was engaged in mortifying the flesh, it happened that a certain king came there to amuse himself with the women of his harem. And after he had amused himself, he fell asleep under the influence of his potations, and while he was in this state, his queens left him out of thoughtlessness and roamed about in the garden. And beholding in a corner of the garden that hermit engaged in meditation, they stood round him out of curiosity, wondering what on earth he could be. And as they remained there a long time, that king woke up, and not seeing his wives at his side, wandered all round the garden. And then he saw the queens standing all round the hermit, and being enraged, he slashed the hermit with his sword out of jealousy. What crime will not sovereign power, jealousy, cruelty, drunkenness, and indiscretion cause separately, much more deadly are they when combined, like five fires. [454] Then the king departed, and though the hermit's limbs were gashed, he remained free from wrath; whereupon a certain deity appeared and said to him,--"Great-souled one, if you approve I will slay by my power that wicked man who did this to you in a passion." When the hermit heard that, he said, "O goddess, say not so, for he is my helper in virtue, not a harmer of me. For by his favour I have attained the grace of patience; to whom could I have shown patience, O goddess, if he had not acted thus towards me? What anger does the wise man shew for the sake of this perishing body? To shew patience equally with regard to what is agreeable and disagreeable is to have attained the rank of Brahmá." When the hermit said this to the deity, she was pleased, and after healing the wounds in his limbs, she disappeared. "In the same way as that king was considered a benefactor by the hermit, you, my mother, have increased my asceticism by causing me to tear out my eye." Thus spake the self-subduing hermit to the merchant's wife, who bowed before him, and being regardless of his body, lovely though it was, he passed on to perfection. "Therefore, though our youth be very charming, why should we cling to this perishable body? But the only thing which, in the eye of the wise man, it is good for, is to benefit one's fellow-creatures. So we will lay down our bodies to benefit living creatures in this cemetery, the natural home of happiness." Having said this to their attendants, those seven princesses did so, and obtained therefrom the highest beatitude. "Thus you see that the wise have no selfish affection even for their own bodies, much less for such worthless things [455] as son, wife, and servants." When the king Kalingadatta had heard these and other such things from the religious teacher in the monastery, having spent the day there, he returned to his palace. And when he was there, he was again afflicted with grief on account of the birth of a daughter to him, and a certain Bráhman, who had grown old in his house, said to him--"King, why do you despond on account of the birth of a pearl of maidens? Daughters are better even than sons, and produce happiness in this world and the next. Why do kings care so much about those sons that hanker after their kingdom, and eat up their fathers like crabs? But kings like Kuntibhoja and others, by the virtues of daughters like Kuntí and others, have escaped harm from sages like the terrible Durvásas. And how can one obtain from a son the same fruit in the next world, as one obtains from the marriage of a daughter? Moreover I now proceed to tell the tale of Sulochaná, listen to it." Story of Sulochaná and Sushena. There was a young king named Sushena on the mountain of Chitrakúta, who was created like another god of love by the Creator to spite Siva. He made at the foot of that great mountain a heavenly garden, which was calculated to make the gods averse to dwelling in the garden of Nandana. And in the middle of it he made a lake with full-blown lotuses, like a new productive bed for the lotuses with which the goddess of Fortune plays. This lake had steps leading down into it made of splendid gems, and the king used to linger on its bank without a bride, because there were no eligible matches for him. Once on a time Rambhá, a fair one of heaven, came that way, wandering at will through the air from the palace of Indra. She beheld the king roaming in that garden like an incarnation of the Spring in the midst of a garden of full-blown flowers. She said--"Can this be the moon, that has swooped down from heaven in pursuit of the goddess of Fortune fallen into a cluster of lotuses of the lake? But that cannot be, for this hero's fortune in the shape of beauty never passes away. [456] Surely this must be the god of the flowery arrows come to the garden in quest of flowers. But where has Rati, his companion, gone?" Thus Rambhá described him in her eagerness, and descending from heaven in human form, she approached that king. And when the king suddenly beheld her advancing towards him, he was astonished and reflected--"Who can this be of incredible beauty? She cannot surely be a human being, since her feet do not touch the dust, and her eye does not wink, therefore she must be some divine person. But I must not ask her who she is, for she might fly from me. Divine beings, who visit men for some cause or other, are generally impatient of having their secrets revealed." While such thoughts were passing in the monarch's mind, she began a conversation with him, which led in due course to his throwing his arms round her neck then and there. And he sported long there with this Apsaras, so that she forgot heaven; love is more charming than one's native home. And the land of that king was filled with heaps of gold, by means of the Yakshinís, friends of hers, who transformed themselves into trees, as the heaven is filled with the peaks of Meru. And in course of time that excellent Apsaras became pregnant, and bore to king Sushena an incomparably beautiful daughter, and no sooner had she given her birth, than she said to the king--"O king, such has been my curse, and it is now at an end; for I am Rambhá, a heavenly nymph that fell in love with you on beholding you: and as I have given birth to a child, I must immediately leave you and depart. For such is the law that governs us heavenly beings; therefore take care of this daughter; when she is married, we shall again be united in heaven." When the Apsaras Rambhá had said this, she departed, sorely against her will, and through grief at it, the king was bent on abandoning life. But his ministers said to him, "Did Visvámitra, though despondent, abandon life when Menaká had departed after giving birth to Sakuntalá?" When the king had been plied by them with such arguments, he took the right view of the matter, and slowly recovered his self-command, taking to his heart the daughter who was destined to be the cause of their re-union. And that daughter, lovely in all her limbs, her father, who was devoted to her, named Sulochaná, on account of the exceeding beauty of her eyes. In time she grew up to womanhood, and a young hermit, named Vatsa, the descendant of Kasyapa, as he was roaming about at will, beheld her in a garden. He, though he was all compact of asceticism, the moment he beheld that princess, felt the emotion of love, and he said to himself then and there; "Oh! exceedingly wonderful is the beauty of this maiden! If I do not obtain her as a wife, what other fruit of my asceticism can I obtain?" While thinking thus, the young hermit was beheld by Sulochaná, and he seemed to her all glorious with brightness, like fire free from smoke. When she saw him with his rosary and water vessel, she fell in love also and thought--"Who can this be that looks so self-restrained and yet so lovely?" And coming towards him as if to select him for her husband, she threw over his body the garland [457] of the blue lotuses of her eyes, and bowed before that hermit. And he, with mind overpowered by the decree of Cupid, hard for gods and Asuras to evade, pronounced on her the following blessing--"Obtain a husband." Then the excellent hermit was thus addressed by that lady, whose modesty was stolen away by love for his exceeding beauty, and who spoke with downcast face--"If this is your desire, and if this is not jesting talk, then, Bráhman, ask the king, my father, who has power to dispose of me." Then the hermit, after hearing of her descent from her attendants, went and asked the king Sushena, her father, for her hand. He, for his part, when he saw that the young hermit was eminent both in beauty and asceticism, entertained him, and said to him--"Reverend sir, this daughter is mine by the nymph Rambhá, and by my daughter's marriage I am to be re-united with her in heaven; so Rambhá told me when she was returning to the sky; consider, auspicious sir, how that is to be accomplished." When the hermit heard that, he thought for a moment--"Did not the hermit Ruru, when Pramadvará the daughter of Menaká was bitten by a snake, give her the half of his life, and make her his wife? Was not the Chandála Trisanku carried to heaven by Visvámitra? So why should not I do the same by expending my asceticism upon it?" Having thus reflected, the hermit said--"There is no difficulty in it," and exclaimed--"Hearken ye gods, may this king mount with his body to heaven to obtain possession of Rambhá by virtue of part of my asceticism." Thus the hermit spoke in the hearing of the court, and a distinct answer was heard from heaven--"So be it." Then the king gave his daughter Sulochaná to the hermit Vatsa, the descendant of Kasyapa, and ascended to heaven. There he obtained a divine nature, and lived happily with that Rambhá of god-like dignity, appointed his wife by Indra. "Thus, O king, Sushena obtained all his ends by means of a daughter. For such daughters become incarnate in the houses of such as you. And this daughter is surely some heavenly nymph, fallen from her high estate owing to a curse, and born in your house, so do not grieve, monarch, on account of her birth." When king Kalingadatta had heard this tale from the Bráhman that had grown old in his house, he left off being distressed, and was comforted. And he gave to his dear young daughter, who gave pleasure to his eyes, as if she had been a digit of the moon, the name of Kalingasená. And the princess Kalingasená grew up in the house of her father amongst her companions. And she sported in the palaces, and in the palace-gardens, like a wave of the sea of infancy that is full of the passion [458] for amusement. Once on a time the daughter of the Asura Maya, named Somaprabhá, as she was journeying through the sky, saw her on the roof of a palace engaged in play. And Somaprabhá, while in the sky, beheld her lovely enough to bewilder with her beauty the mind even of a hermit, and feeling affection for her, reflected--"Who is this? Can she be the form of the moon? If so, how is it that she gleams in the day? But if she is Rati, where is Káma? Therefore I conclude that she is a mortal maiden. "She must be some celestial nymph that has descended into a king's palace in consequence of a curse; and I am persuaded I was certainly a friend of her's in a former life. For my mind's being full of exceeding affection for her, tells me so. Therefore it is fitting that I should again select her as my chosen friend." Thus reflecting Somaprabhá descended invisible from heaven, in order not to frighten that maiden; and she assumed the appearance of a mortal maiden to inspire confidence, and slowly approached that Kalingasená. Then Kalingasená, on beholding her, reflected--"Bravo! here is a princess of wonderful beauty come to visit me of her own accord! she is a suitable friend for me." So she rose up politely and embraced that Somaprabhá. And making her take a seat, she asked her immediately her descent and name. And Somaprabhá said to her; "Be patient, I will tell you all." Then in the course of their conversation they swore friendship to each other with plighted hands. Then Somaprabhá, said--"My friend, you are a king's daughter, and it is hard to keep up friendship with the children of kings. For they fly into an immoderate passion on account of a small fault. Hear, with regard to this point, the story of the prince and the merchant's son which I am about to tell you." Story of the prince and the merchant's son who saved his life. [459] In the city of Pushkarávatí there was a king named Gúdhasena, and to him there was born one son. That prince was overbearing, and whatever he did, right or wrong, his father acquiesced in, because he was an only son. And once upon a time, as he was roaming about in a garden, he saw the son of a merchant, named Brahmadatta, who resembled himself in wealth and beauty. And the moment he saw him, he selected him for his special friend, and those two, the prince and the merchant's son, immediately became like one another in all things. [460] And soon they were not able to live without seeing one another, for intimacy in a former birth quickly knits friendship. The prince never tasted food that was not first prepared for that merchant's son. Once on a time the prince set out for Ahichchhatra in order to be married, having first decided on his friend's marriage. And, as he was journeying with his troops, in the society of that friend, mounted on an elephant, he reached the bank of the Ikshuvatí, and encamped there. There he had a wine-party, when the moon arose; and after he had gone to bed, he began to tell a story at the solicitation of his nurse. When he had begun his story, being tired and intoxicated he was overcome by sleep, and his nurse also, but the merchant's son kept awake out of love for him. And when the others were asleep, the merchant's son, who was awake, heard in the air what seemed to be the voices of women engaged in conversation. The first said--"This wretch has gone to sleep without telling his tale, therefore I pronounce this curse on him. To-morrow morning he shall see a necklace, and if he take hold of it, it shall cling to his neck, and that moment cause his death." Then the first voice ceased, and the second went on: "And if he escape that peril, he shall see a mango-tree, and if he eat the fruit of it, he shall then and there lose his life." Having uttered this, that voice also ceased, and then the third said--"If he escape this also, then, if he enter a house to be married, it shall fall on him and slay him." Having said so much, that voice also ceased, and the fourth said, "If he escape this also, when he enters that night into his private apartments, he shall sneeze a hundred times; and if some one there does not a hundred times say to him, 'God bless you,' he shall fall into the grasp of death. And if the person, who has heard all this, shall inform him of it in order to save his life, he also shall die," having said this, the voice ceased. [461] And the merchant's son having heard all this, terrible as a thunderstroke, being agitated on account of his affection for the prince, reflected--"Beshrew this tale that was begun, and not finished, for divinities have come invisible to hear it, and are cursing him out of disappointed curiosity. And if this prince dies, what good will my life do to me? So I must by some artifice deliver my friend whom I value as my life. And I must not tell him what has taken place, lest I too should suffer." Having thus reflected, the merchant's son got through the night with difficulty. And in the morning the prince set out with him on his journey, and he saw a necklace in front of him, and wished to lay hold of it. Then the merchant's son said, "Do not take the necklace, my friend, it is an illusion, else why do not these soldiers see it?" When the prince heard that, he let the necklace alone, but going on further he saw a mango-tree, and he felt a desire to eat its fruit. But he was dissuaded by the merchant's son, as before. He felt much annoyed in his heart, and travelling on slowly he reached his father-in-law's palace. And he was about to enter a building there for the purpose of being married, but just as his friend had persuaded him not to do so, the house fell down. So he escaped this danger by a hair's breadth, and then he felt some confidence in his friend's prescience. Then the prince and his wife entered at night another building. But the merchant's son slipped in there unobserved. And the prince, when he went to bed, sneezed a hundred times, but the merchant's son underneath it said a hundred times--"God bless you"--and then the merchant's son, having accomplished his object, of his own accord left the house in high spirits. But the prince, who was with his wife, saw him going out, and through jealousy, forgetting his love for him, he flew into a passion and said to the sentinels at his gate: "This designing wretch has entered my private apartments when I wished to be alone, so keep him in durance for the present, and he shall be executed in the morning." When the guards heard that, they put him under arrest, and he spent the night in confinement, but as he was being led off to execution in the morning, he said to them--"First take me into the presence of the prince, in order that I may tell him a certain reason, which I had for my conduct; and then put me to death." When he said this to the guards, they went and informed the prince, and on their information and the advice of his ministers, the prince ordered him to be brought before him. When he was brought, he told the prince the whole story, and he believed it to be true, for the fall of the house carried conviction to his mind. So the prince was satisfied, and countermanded the order for his friend's execution, and he returned with him to his own city, a married man. And there his friend the merchant's son married, and lived in happiness, his virtues being praised by all men. "Thus the children of kings break loose from restraint and slaying their guides, disregard benefits, like infuriated elephants. And what friendship can there be with those Vetálas, who take people's lives by way of a joke. Therefore, my princess, never abandon your friendship with me." When Kalingasená heard this story in the palace from the mouth of Somaprabhá, she answered her affectionate friend,--"Those of whom you speak are considered Pisáchas, not the children of kings, and I will tell you a story of the evil importunity of Pisáchas, listen!" [462] Story of the Bráhman and the Pisácha. Long ago there was a Bráhman dwelling on a royal grant, which was called Yajnasthala. He once upon a time, being poor, went to the forest to bring home wood. There, a piece of wood being cleft with the axe, fell, as chance would have it, upon his leg, and piercing it, entered deep into it. And as the blood flowed from him, he fainted, and he was beheld in that condition by a man who recognised him, and taking him up carried him home. There his distracted wife washed off the blood, and consoling him, placed a plaster upon the wound. And then his wound, though tended day by day, not only did not heal, but formed an ulcer. Then the man, afflicted with his ulcerated wound, poverty-stricken, and at the point of death, was thus advised in secret by a Bráhman friend, who came to him; "A friend of mine, named Yajnadatta, was long very poor, but he gained the aid of a Pisácha by a charm, and so, having obtained wealth, lived in happiness. And he told me that charm, so do you gain, my friend, by means of it, the aid of a Pisácha; he will heal your wound." Having said this, he told him the form of words and described to him the ceremony as follows: "Rise up in the last watch of the night, and with dishevelled hair and naked, and without rinsing your mouth, take two handfuls of rice as large as you can grasp with your two hands, and muttering the form of words go to a place where four roads meet, and there place the two handfuls of rice, and return in silence without looking behind you. Do so always until that Pisácha appears, and himself says to you, 'I will put an end to your ailment.' Then receive his aid gladly, and he will remove your complaint." When his friend had said this to him, the Bráhman did as he had been directed. Then the Pisácha, being conciliated, brought heavenly herbs from a lofty peak of the Himálayas and healed his wound. And then he became obstinately persistent, and said to the Bráhman, who was delighted at being healed, "Give me a second wound to cure, but if you will not, I will do you an injury or destroy your body." When the Bráhman heard that, he was terrified, and immediately said to him to get rid of him--"I will give you another wound within seven days." Whereupon the Pisácha left him, but the Bráhman felt hopeless about his life. But eventually he baffled the Pisácha by the help of his daughter, and having got over the disease, he lived in happiness. [463] "Such are Pisáchas, and some young princes are just like them, and, though conciliated, produce misfortune, my friend, but they can be guarded against by counsel. But princesses of good family have never been heard to be such. So you must not expect any injury from associating with me." When Somaprabhá heard from the mouth of Kalingasená in due course this sweet, entertaining, and amusing tale, she was delighted. And she said to her--"My house is sixty yojanas distant hence, and the day is passing away; I have remained long, so now I must depart, fair one." Then, as the lord of day was slowly sinking to the eastern mountain, she took leave of her friend who was eager for a second interview, and in a moment flew up into the air, exciting the wonder of the spectators, and rapidly returned to her own house. And, after beholding that wonderful sight, Kalingasená entered into her house with much perplexity, and reflected, "I do not know, indeed, whether my friend is a Siddha female, or an Apsaras, or a Vidyádharí. She is certainly a heavenly female that travels through the upper air. And heavenly females associate with mortal ones led by excessive love. Did not Arundhatí live in friendship with the daughter of king Prithu? Did not Prithu by means of her friendship bring Surabhi from heaven to earth. And did not he by consuming its milk return to heaven though he had fallen from it. And were not thenceforth perfect cows born upon earth? So I am fortunate; it is by good luck that I have obtained this heavenly creature as a friend; and when she comes to-morrow I will dexterously as her her descent and name." Thinking such thoughts in her heart, Kalingasená spent that night there, and Somaprabhá spent the night in her own house being eager to behold her again. CHAPTER XXIX. Then in the morning Somaprabhá took with her a basket, in which she had placed many excellent mechanical dolls of wood with magic properties in order to amuse her friend, and travelling through the air she came again to Kalingasená. And when Kalingasená saw her, she was full of tears of joy, and rising up she threw her arms round her neck, and said to her, as she sat by her side--"The dark night of three watches has this time seemed to me to be of a hundred watches without the sight of the full moon of your countenance. So, if you know, my friend, tell me of what kind may have been my union with you in a former birth, of which this present friendship is the result." When Somaprabhá heard this, she said to that princess: "Such knowledge I do not possess, for I do not remember my former birth; and hermits are not acquainted with this, but if any know, they are perfectly acquainted with the highest truth, and they are the original founders of the science by which it is attained." When she had spoken thus, Kalingasená, being full of curiosity, again asked her in private in a voice tender from love and confidence, "Tell me, friend, of what divine father you have adorned the race by your birth, since you are completely virtuous like a beautifully-rounded pearl. [464] And what, auspicious one, is your name, that is nectar to the ears of the world. What is the object of this basket? And what thing is there in it?" On hearing this affectionate speech from Kalingasená, Somaprabhá began to tell the whole story in due course. "There is a mighty Asura of the name of Maya, famous in the three worlds. And he, abandoning the condition of an Asura, fled to Siva as his protector. And Siva having promised him security, he built the palace of Indra. But the Daityas were angry with him, affirming that he had become a partizan of the gods. Through fear of them he made in the Vindhya mountains a very wonderful magic subterranean palace, which the Asuras could not reach. My sister and I are the two daughters of that Maya. My elder sister named Svayamprabhá follows a vow of virginity, and lives as a maiden in my father's house. But I, the younger daughter, named Somaprabhá, have been bestowed in marriage on a son of Kuvera named Nadakúvara, and my father has taught me innumerable magic artifices, and as for this basket, I have brought it here to please you." Having said this, Somaprabhá opened the basket and shewed to her some very interesting mechanical dolls constructed by her magic, made of wood. One of them, on a pin in it being touched, [465] went through the air at her orders and fetched a garland of flowers and quickly returned. Another in the same way brought water at will; [466] another danced, and another then conversed. With such very wonderful contrivances Somaprabhá amused Kalingasená for some time, and then she put that magic basket in a place of security, and taking leave of her regretful friend, she went, being obedient to her husband, through the air to her own palace. But Kalingasená was so delighted that the sight of these wonders took away her appetite, and she remained averse to all food. And when her mother perceived that, she feared she was ill; however a physician named Ánanda having examined the child, told her mother that there was nothing the matter with her. He said, "She has lost her appetite through delight at something, not from disease; for her countenance, which appears to be laughing, with eyes wide open, indicates this." When she heard this report from the physician, the girl's mother asked her the real cause of her joy; and the girl told her. Then her mother believed that she was delighted with the society of an eligible friend, and congratulated her, and made her take her proper food. Then the next day Somaprabhá arrived, and having found out what had taken place, she proceeded to say to Kalingasená in secret, "I told my husband, who possesses supernatural knowledge, that I had formed a friendship with you, and obtained from him, when he knew the facts, permission to visit you every day. So you must now obtain permission from your parents, in order that you may amuse yourself with me at will without fear." When she had said this, Kalingasená took her by the hand, and immediately went to her father and mother, and there introduced her friend to her father, king Kalingadatta, proclaiming her descent and name, and in the same way she introduced her to her mother Tárádattá, and they, on beholding her, received her politely in accordance with their daughter's account of her. And both those two, pleased with her appearance, hospitably received that beautiful wife of the distinguished Asura out of love for their daughter, and said to her--"Dear girl, we entrust this Kalingasená to your care, so amuse yourselves together as much as you please." And Kalingasená and Somaprabhá having gladly welcomed this speech of theirs, went out together. And they went, in order to amuse themselves, to a temple of Buddha built by the king. And they took there that basket of magic toys. Then Somaprabhá took a magic Yaksha, and sent it on a commission from herself to bring the requisites for the worship of Buddha. That Yaksha went a long distance through the sky, and brought a multitude of pearls, beautiful gems, and golden lotuses. Having performed worship with these, Somaprabhá exhibiting all kinds of wonders, displayed the various Buddhas with their abodes. When the king Kalingadatta heard of that, he came with the queen and beheld it, and then asked Somaprabhá about the magic performance. Then Somaprabhá said, "King, these contrivances of magic machines, and so on, were created in various ways by my father in old time. And even as this vast machine, called the world, consists of five elements, so do all these machines: I will describe them one by one. That machine, in which earth predominates, shuts doors and things of the kind. Not even Indra would be able to open what had been shut with it. The shapes produced by the water-machine appear to be alive. But the machine in which fire predominates, pours forth flames. And the wind-machine performs actions, such as going and coming. And the machine produced from ether utters distinct language. All these I obtained from my father, but the wheel-machine, which guards the water of immortality, my father knows and no one else." While she was saying this, there arose the sound of conchs being blown in the middle of the day, that seemed to confirm her words. Then she entreated the king to give her the food that suited her, and taking Kalingasená as a companion, by permission of the king she set out through the air for her father's house in a magic chariot, to return to her elder sister. And quickly reaching that palace, which was situated in the Vindhya mountains, she conducted her to her sister Svayamprabhá. There Kalingasená saw that Svayamprabhá with her head encircled with matted locks, with a long rosary, a nun clothed in a white garment, smiling like Párvatí, in whom love, the highest joy of earth, had undertaken a severe vow of mortification. And Svayamprabhá, when the princess, introduced by Somaprabhá, kneeled before her, received her hospitably and entertained her with a meal of fruits. And Somaprabhá said to the princess: 'My friend, by eating these fruits, you will escape old age which otherwise would destroy this beauty, as the nipping cold does the lotus: and it was with this object that I brought you here out of affection.' Then that Kalingasená ate those fruits, and immediately her limbs seemed to be bathed in the water of life. And roaming about there to amuse herself, she saw the garden of the city, with tanks filled with golden lotuses, and trees bearing fruit as sweet as nectar: the garden was full of birds of golden and variegated plumage, and seemed to have pillars of bright gems; it conveyed the idea of walls where there was no partition, and where there were partitions, of unobstructed space. Where there was water, it presented the appearance of dry land, and where there was dry land, it bore the semblance of water. It resembled another and a wonderful world, created by the delusive power of the Asura Maya. It had been entered formerly by the monkeys searching for Sítá, which, after a long time, were allowed to come out by the favour of Svayamprabhá. So Svayamprabhá bade her adieu, after she had been astonished with a full sight of her wonderful city, and had obtained immunity from old age; and Somaprabhá making Kalingasená ascend the chariot again, took her through the air to her own palace in Takshasilá. There Kalingasená told the whole story faithfully to her parents, and they were exceedingly pleased. And while those two friends spent their days in this way, Somaprabhá once upon a time said to Kalingasená: "As long as you are not married, I can continue to be your friend, but after your marriage, how could I enter the house of your husband? For a friend's husband ought never to be seen or recognised [467]; * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * As for a mother-in-law she eats the flesh of a daughter-in-law as a she-wolf does of a sheep. And à propos of this, hear the story of Kírtisená which I am about to tell you." Story of Kírtisená and her cruel mother-in-law. [468] Long ago there lived in the city of Pátaliputra a merchant named, not without cause, Dhanapálita, [469] for he was the richest of the rich. And there was born to him a daughter, named Kírtisená, who was incomparably beautiful, and dearer to him than life. And he took his daughter to Magadha and married her to a rich merchant, named Devasena. And though Devasena was himself very virtuous, he had a wicked mother as mistress in his house, for his father was dead. She, when she saw that her daughter-in-law Kírtisená was beloved by her husband, being inflamed with anger, ill-treated her in her husband's absence. But Kírtisená was afraid to let her husband know it, for the position of a bride in the power of a treacherous mother-in-law is a difficult one. Once upon a time her husband Devasena, instigated by his relations, was preparing to go to the city of Vallabhí for the sake of trade. Then that Kírtisená said to her husband,--"I have not told you for this long time what I am now going to say: your mother ill-treats me though you are here, but I do not know what she will do to me when you are in a foreign country." When Devasena heard that, he was perplexed, and being alarmed on account of his affection for his wife, he went and humbly said to his mother--"Kírtisená is committed to your care, mother, now that I am going to a foreign land; you must not treat her unkindly, for she is the daughter of a man of good family." When Devasena's mother heard that, she summoned Kírtisená, and elevating her eyes, said to him then and there,--"What have I done? ask her. This is the way in which she eggs you on, my son, trying to make mischief in the house, but both of you are the same in my eyes." When the good merchant heard that, he departed with his mind easy on her account. For who is not deceived by the hypocritically affectionate speeches of a mother? But Kírtisená stood there silent, smiling in bewilderment, and the next day the merchant set out for Vallabhí. Then, when Kírtisená began to suffer torture at being separated from her husband, the merchant's mother gradually forbade the female slaves to attend on her. And making an agreement with a handmaid of her own, that worked in the house, she took Kírtisená inside and secretly stripped her. And saying to her, "Wicked woman, you rob me of my son," she pulled her hair, and with the help of her servant, mangled her with kicks, bites, and scratches. And she threw her into a cellar that was closed with a trap-door and strongly fastened, after first taking out all the things that were in it previously. And the wretch put in it every day half a plate of rice, in the evening, for the girl who was in such a state. And she thought, "I will say in a few days 'she died of herself during her husband's absence in a distant land, take her corpse away.'" [470] Thus Kírtisená, who deserved all happiness, was thrown into a cellar by that cruel mother-in-law, and while there she reflected with tears, "My husband is rich, I was born in a good family, I am fortunately endowed and virtuous, nevertheless I suffer such calamity, thanks to my mother-in-law. And this is why relations lament the birth of a daughter, exposed to the terrors of mother-in-law, and sister-in-law, marred with inauspiciousness of every kind." While thus lamenting, Kírtisená suddenly found a small shovel in that cellar, like a thorn extracted from her heart by the Creator. So she dug a passage underground with that iron instrument, until by good luck she rose up in her own private apartment. And she was able to see that room by the light of a lamp that had been left there before, as if she were lighted by her own undiminished virtue. And she took out of it her clothes and her gold, and leaving it secretly at the close of the night, she went out of the city. She reflected--"It is not fitting that I should go to my father's house after acting thus; what should I say there, and how would people believe me? So I must manage to repair to my husband by means of my own ingenuity; for a husband is the only refuge of virtuous women in this world and the next." Reflecting thus, she bathed in the water of a tank, and put on the splendid dress of a prince. Then she went into the bazar and after exchanging some gold for money, she sojourned that day in the house of a certain merchant. The next day she struck up a friendship with a merchant named Samudrasena who wished to go to Vallabhí. And wearing the splendid dress of a prince, she set out for Vallabhí with the merchant and his servants in order to catch up her husband who had set out beforehand. And she said to that merchant, "I am oppressed by my clansmen, [471] so I will go with you to my friends in Vallabhí." Having heard that, the merchant's son waited upon her on the journey, out of respect, thinking to himself that she was some distinguished prince or other; and that caravan preferred for its march the forest road, which was much frequented by travellers, who avoided the other routes because of the heavy duties they had to pay. In a few days they reached the entrance of the forest, and while the caravan was encamped in the evening, a female jackal, like a messenger of death, uttered a terrific howl. Thereupon the merchants, who understood what that meant, became apprehensive of an attack by bandits, and the guards on every side took their arms in hand; and the darkness began to advance like the vanguard of the bandits; then Kírtisená, in man's dress, beholding that, reflected, "Alas! the deeds of those who have sinned in a former life seem to propagate themselves with a brood of evils! Lo! the calamity which my mother-in-law brought upon me has borne fruit here also! First I was engulphed by the wrath of my mother-in-law as if by the mouth of death, then I entered the cellar like a second prison of the womb. By good fortune, I escaped thence, being, as it were, born a second time, and having come here, I have again run a risk of my life. If I am slain here by bandits, my mother-in-law, who hates me, will surely say to my husband, 'She ran off somewhere being attached to another man.' But if some one tears off my clothes and recognises me for a woman, then again I run a risk of outrage, and death is better than that. So I must deliver myself, and disregard this merchant my friend. For good women must regard the duty of virtuous wives, not friends and things of that kind." Thus she determined, and searching about, found a hollow like a house in the middle of a tree, as it were, an opening made for her by the earth out of pity. There she entered and covered her body with leaves and such like things; and remained supported by the hope of reunion with her husband. Then, in the dead of night, a large force of bandits suddenly fell upon the caravan with uplifted weapons, and surrounded it on all sides. And there followed a storm of fight, with howling bandits for thunder-clouds, and the gleam of weapons for long-continued lightning-flashes, and a rain of blood. At last the bandits, being more powerful, slew the merchant-prince Samudrasena and his followers, and went off with all his wealth. In the meanwhile Kírtisená was listening to the tumult, and that she was not forcibly robbed of breath is to be ascribed to fate only. Then the night departed, and the keen-rayed sun arose, and she went out from that hollow in the middle of the tree. Surely the gods themselves preserve in misfortune good women exclusively devoted to their husbands, and of unfailing virtue; for not only did a lion beholding her in the lonely wood spare her, but a hermit that had come from somewhere or other, when she asked him for information, comforted her and gave her a drink of water from his vessel, and then disappeared in some direction or other, after telling her the road to take. Then satisfied as if with nectar, free from hunger and thirst, that woman, devoted to her husband, set out by the road indicated by the hermit. Then she saw the sun mounted on the western mountain, stretching forth his rays like fingers, as if saying--"Wait patiently one night"--and so she entered an opening in the root of a forest tree which looked like a house, and closed its mouth with another tree. And in the evening she saw through the opening of a chink in the door of her retreat a terrible Rákshasí approaching, accompanied by her young sons. She was terrified, thinking to herself--"Lo! I shall be devoured by this Rákshasí after escaping all my other misfortunes"--and in the meanwhile the Rákshasí ascended that tree. And her sons ascended after her, and immediately said to that Rákshasí, [472]--"Mother, give us something to eat." Then the Rákshasí said to her children,--"To-day, my children, I went to a great cemetery, but I did not obtain any food, and though I entreated the congregation of witches, they gave me no portion; then grieved thereat I appealed to Siva in his terrific form and asked him for food. And the god asked me my name and lineage, and then said to me--'Terrible one, thou art of high birth as belonging to the race of Khara and Dúshana; [473] so go to the city of Vasudatta, not far from here. In that city there lives a great king named Vasudatta addicted to virtue; he defends this whole forest, dwelling on its border, and himself takes duties and chastises robbers. Now, one day, while the king was sleeping in the forest, fatigued with hunting, a centipede quickly entered his ear unobserved. And in course of time it gave birth to many others inside his head. That produced an illness which now dries up all his sinews. And the physicians do not know what is the cause of his disease, but if some one does not find out, he will die in a few days. When he is dead, eat his flesh; for by eating it, you will, thanks to your magic power, remain satiated for six months!' In these words Siva promised me a meal, that is attended with uncertainty, and cannot be obtained for a long time, so what must I do, my children?" When the Rákshasí said this to her children, they asked her, "If the disease is discovered and removed, will that king live, mother? And tell us how such a disease can be cured in him?" When the children said this, the Rákshasí solemnly said to them, "If the disease is discovered and removed, the king will certainly live. And hear how his great disease may be taken away. First his head must be anointed by rubbing warm butter on it, and then it must be placed for a long time in the heat of the sun intensified by noonday. And a hollow cane-tube must be inserted into the aperture of his ear, which must communicate with a hole in a plate, and this plate must be placed above a pitcher of cool water. Accordingly the centipedes will be annoyed by heat and perspiration, and will come out of his head, and will enter that cane-tube from the aperture of the ear, and desiring coolness will fall into the pitcher. In this way the king may be freed from that great disease." Thus spake the Rákshasí to her sons on the tree, and then ceased; and Kírtisená, who was in the trunk of the tree, heard it. And hearing it, she said to herself, "If ever I get safe away from here, I will go and employ this artifice to save the life of that king. For he takes but small duties, and dwells on the outskirts of this forest; and so all the merchants come this way because it is more convenient. This is what the merchant, Samudrasena, who is gone to heaven, told me; accordingly that husband of mine will be sure to return by this very path. So I will go to the city of Vasudatta, which is on the borders of the forest, and I will deliver the king from his sickness, and there await the arrival of my husband." Thus reflecting, she managed, though with difficulty, to get through the night: in the morning, the Rákshasas having disappeared, she went out from the trunk of the tree. Then she travelled along slowly in the dress of a man, and in the afternoon she saw a good cowherd. He was moved to compassion by seeing her delicate beauty, and that she had accomplished a long journey, and then she approached him, and said--"What country is this, please tell me?" The cowherd said--"This city in front of you is the city of Vasudatta, belonging to the king Vasudatta: as for the king, he lies there at the point of death with illness." When Kírtisená heard that, she said to the cowherd, "If any one will conduct me into the presence of that king, I know how to remove his disease." When the cowherd heard that, he said, "I am going to that very city, so come with me, that I may point it out to you." Kírtisená answered--"So be it," and immediately that herdsman conducted her to the city of Vasudatta, wearing her male dress. And telling the circumstances exactly as they were, he immediately commended that lady with auspicious marks to the afflicted warder. And the warder, having informed the king, by his orders introduced the blameless lady into his presence. The king Vasudatta, though tortured with his disease, was comforted the moment he beheld that lady of wonderful beauty; the soul is able to distinguish friends from enemies. And he said to the lady who was disguised as a man, "Auspicious sir, if you remove this disease, I will give you half my kingdom; I remember a lady stripped off from me in my dream a black blanket, so you will certainly remove this my disease." When Kírtisená heard that, she said--"This day is at an end, O king; to-morrow I will take away your disease; do not be impatient." Having said this, she rubbed cow's butter on the king's head; that made sleep come to him, and the excessive pain disappeared. And then all there praised Kírtisená, saying--"This is some god come to us in the disguise of a physician, thanks to our merits in a previous state of existence." And the queen waited on her with various attentions, and appointed for her a house in which to rest at night, with female attendants. Then on the next day, at noon, before the eyes of the ministers and ladies of the harem, Kírtisená extracted from the head of that king, through the aperture of the ear, one hundred and fifty centipedes, by employing the wonderful artifice previously described by the Rákshasí. And after getting the centipedes into the pitcher, she comforted the king by fomenting him with milk and melted butter. The king having gradually recovered, and being free from disease, everybody there was astonished at beholding those creatures in the pitcher. And the king, on beholding these harmful insects that had been extracted from his head, was terrified, puzzled and delighted, and considered himself born again. And he made high feast, and honoured Kírtisená, who did not care for half the kingdom, with villages, elephants, horses, and gold. And the queens and the ministers loaded her with gold and garments, saying that they ought to honour the physician who had saved the life of their sovereign. But she deposited for the present that wealth in the hand of the king, waiting for her husband, and saying--"I am under a vow for a certain time." So Kírtisená remained there some days in man's clothes, honoured by all men, and in the meanwhile she heard from the people that her own husband, the great merchant Devasena, had come that way from Vallabhí. Then, as soon as she knew that that caravan had arrived in the city, she went to it, and saw that husband of hers as a peahen beholds the new cloud. And she fell at his feet, and her heart, weeping from the pain of long separation, made her bestow on him the argha [474] with her tears of joy. Her husband, for his part, after he had examined her, who was concealed by her disguise, like the form of the moon invisible in the day on account of the rays of the sun, recognised her. It was wonderful that the heart of Devasena, who was handsome as the moon, did not dissolve like the moonstone, [475] on beholding the moon of her countenance. Then, Kírtisená having thus revealed herself, and her husband remaining in a state of wonder, marvelling what it could mean, and the company of merchants being astonished, the king Vasudatta, hearing of it, came there full of amazement. And Kírtisená, being questioned by him, told in the presence of her husband her whole adventure, that was due to the wickedness of her mother-in-law. And her husband Devasena, hearing it, conceived an aversion to his mother, and was affected at the same time by anger, forbearance, astonishment, and joy. And all the people present there, having heard that wonderful adventure of Kírtisená, exclaimed joyfully--"Chaste women, mounted on the chariot of conjugal affection, protected by the armour of modesty, and armed with the weapon of intellect, are victorious in the struggle." The king too said--"This lady, who has endured affliction for the sake of her husband, has surpassed even queen Sítá, who shared the hardships of Ráma. So she is henceforth my sister in the faith, as well as the saviour of my life." When the king said that, Kírtisená answered him--"O king, let your gift of affection which I deposited in your care, consisting of villages, elephants, and horses, be made over to my husband." When she said this to the king, he bestowed on her husband Devasena the villages and other presents, and being pleased gave him a turban of honour. Then Devasena, having his purse suddenly filled with stores of wealth, part of which was given by the king, and part acquired by his own trading, avoiding his mother, and praising Kírtisená, remained dwelling in that town. And Kírtisená having found a happy lot, from which her wicked mother-in-law was removed, and having obtained glory by her unparalleled adventures, dwelt there in the enjoyment of all luxury and power, like all the rich fruit of her husband's good deeds incarnate in a body. "Thus chaste women, enduring the dispensations of hostile fate, but preserving in misfortunes the treasure of their virtue, and protected by the great power of their goodness, procure good fortune for their husbands and themselves. And thus, O daughter of a king, many misfortunes befall wives, inflicted by mothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, therefore I desire for you a husband's house of such a kind, that in it there shall be no mother-in-law and no cruel sister-in-law." Hearing this delightful and marvellous story from the mouth of the Asura princess Somaprabhá, the mortal princess Kalingasená was highly delighted. Then the sun, seeing that these tales, the matter of which was so various, had come to an end, proceeded to set, and Somaprabhá, having embraced the regretful Kalingasená, went to her own palace. CHAPTER XXX. Then Kalingasená out of love went to the top of a palace on the high road, to follow with her eyes the course of Somaprabhá, who had set out for her own home, and by chance a young king of the Vidyádharas, named Madanavega, travelling through the air, had a near view of her. The youth beholding her, bewildering the three worlds with her beauty, like the bunch of peacock feathers of the conjuror Cupid, was much troubled. He reflected--"Away with the Vidyádhara beauties! Not even the Apsarases deserve to be mentioned in presence of the surpassing loveliness of this mortal lady. So if she will not consent to become my wife, what is the profit of my life? But how can I associate with a mortal lady, being a Vidyádhara?" Thereupon he called to mind the science named Prajnapti, and that science, appearing in bodily form, thus addressed him, "She is not really a mortal woman, she is an Apsaras, degraded in consequence of a curse, and born in the house of the august king Kalingadatta." When the Vidyádhara had been thus informed by the science, he went off delighted and distracted with love; and averse from all other things, reflected in his palace; "It is not fitting for me to carry her off by force; for the possession of women by force is, according to a curse, fated to bring me death. So in order to obtain her, I must propitiate Siva by asceticism, for happiness is procurable by asceticism, and no other expedient presents itself." Thus he resolved, and the next day he went to the Rishabha mountain, and standing on one foot, performed penance without taking food. Then the husband of Ambiká was soon won over by Madanavega's severe asceticism, and appearing to him, thus enjoined him, "This maiden, named Kalingasená, is famous for beauty on the earth, and she cannot find any husband equal to her in the gift of loveliness. Only the king of Vatsa is a fitting match for her, and he longs to possess her, but through fear of Vásavadattá, does not dare to court her openly. And this princess, who is longing for a handsome husband, will hear of the king of Vatsa from the mouth of Somaprabhá, and repair to him to choose him as her husband. So, before her marriage takes place, assume the form of the impatient king of Vatsa, and go and make her your wife by the Gándharva ceremony. In this way, fair sir, you will obtain Kalingasená." Having received this command from Siva, Madanavega prostrated himself before him, and returned to his home on the slope of the Kálakúta mountain. Then Kalingasená went on enjoying herself in the city of Takshasilá, in the society of Somaprabhá, who went every night to her own home, and came back every morning to her friend, in her chariot that travelled through the air: and one day she said to Somaprabhá in private; "My friend, you must not tell any one what I tell you. Listen, and I will give you a reason that makes me think the time of my marriage has arrived. Ambassadors have been sent here by many kings to ask me in marriage. And they, after an interview with my father, have always hitherto been dismissed by him as they came. But now the king of the name of Prasenajit, who lives in Srávastí, has sent a messenger, and he alone has been received with honourable distinction by my father. And that course has been recommended by my mother, so I conjecture, the king, my suitor, has been approved of by my father and mother, as of sufficiently noble lineage. For he is born in that family, in which were born Ambá and Ambáliká, the paternal grandmothers of the Kurus and Pándus. So, my friend, it is clear that they have now determined to bestow me in marriage on this king Prasenajit in the city of Srávastí." When Somaprabhá heard this from Kalingasená, she suddenly shed from grief a copious shower of tears, creating, as it were, a second necklace. And when her friend asked her the cause of her tears, that daughter of the Asura Maya, who had seen all the terrestrial world, said to her--"Of the desirable requisites in a suitor, youth, good looks, noble birth, good disposition, and wealth, youth is of the greatest importance; high birth, and so on, are of subordinate importance. But I have seen that king Prasenajit, and he is an old man; who cares about his high lineage, as he is old, any more than about the birth of the jasmine-flower? You will be to be pitied when linked to him who is white as snow, as the lotus-bed, when linked to the winter, and your face will be a withered lotus. For this reason despondency has arisen in me, but I should be delighted if Udayana, the king of Vatsa, were to become your husband, O auspicious lady. For there is no king upon the earth equal to him in form, beauty, lineage, daring and riches. If, fair one, you should be married to that fitting mate, the display which the Creator has made in your case of his power to create beauty, would have brought forth fruit." By means of these speeches, artfully framed by Somaprabhá, the mind of Kalingasená was impelled as if by engines, and flew towards the king of Vatsa. And then the princess asked the daughter of Maya, "Friend, how is it that he is called the king of Vatsa? In what race was he born? And whence was he named Udayana? Tell me." Then Somaprabhá said--"Listen, friend, I will tell you that. There is a land, the ornament of the earth, named Vatsa. In it there is a city named Kausámbí, like a second Amarávatí; and he is called the king of Vatsa because he rules there. And hear his lineage, my friend, related by me. Arjuna of the Pándava race had a son named Abhimanyu, and he, skilled in breaking the close rings of the hostile army, destroyed the force of the Kauravas. From him there sprang a king named Paríkshit, the head of the race of Bharata, and from him sprang Janamejaya, who performed the snake-sacrifice. His son was Satáníka who settled in Kausámbí, and he was slain in a war between the gods and Asuras after slaying many giants. His son was king Sahasráníka, an object of praise to the world, to whom Indra sent his chariot, and he went to heaven and returned thence. To him was born this Udayana by the queen Mrigávatí, the ornament of the race of the Moon, a king that is a feast to the eyes of the world. Hear too the reason of his name. That Mrigávatí, the mother of this high-born king, being pregnant, felt a desire to bathe in a lake of blood, and her husband, afraid of committing sin, had a lake made of liquid lac and other coloured fluids in which she plunged. Then a bird of the race of Garuda pounced upon her, thinking she was raw flesh, and carried her off, and, as fate would have it, left her alive on the mountain of the sunrise. And there the hermit Jamadagni saw her, and comforted her, promising her reunion with her husband, and she remained there in his hermitage. For such was the curse inflicted upon her husband by Tilottamá jealous on account of his neglecting her, which caused him separation from his wife for a season. And in some days she brought forth a son in the hermitage of Jamadagni on that very mountain of the sunrise, as the sky brings forth the new moon. And because he was born on the mountain of the sunrise, the gods then and there gave him the name of Udayana, uttering from heaven this bodiless voice--'This Udayana, who is now born, shall be sovereign of the whole earth, and there shall be born to him a son, who shall be emperor of all the Vidyádharas.' "Sahasráníka, for his part, who had been informed of the real state of the case by Mátali, and had fixed his hope on the termination of his curse, with difficulty got through the time without that Mrigávatí. But when the curse had expired, the king obtained his token from a Savara who, as fate would have it, had come from the mountain of the sunrise. And then he was informed of the truth by a voice that came from heaven, and making that Savara his guide, he went to the mountain of the sunrise. There he found his wife Mrigávatí like the success of his wishes, and her son Udayana like the realm of fancy. With them he returned to Kausámbí, and appointed his son crown-prince, pleased with the excellence of his qualities; and he gave him the sons of his ministers, Yaugandharáyana and others. When his son took the burden of the kingdom off his shoulders, he enjoyed pleasures for a long time in the society of Mrigávatí. And in time the king established his son, that very Udayana, on the throne, and being old, went with his wife and ministers on the long journey. So, Udayana has obtained that kingdom that belonged to his father, and having conquered all his enemies, rules the earth with the help of Yaugandharáyana." Having in these words quickly told her in confidence the story of Udayana, she again said to her friend Kalingasená--"Thus that king is called the king of Vatsa, fair one, because he rules in Vatsa, and since he comes of the Pándava lineage, he is also descended from the race of the sun. And the gods gave him the name of Udayana, because he was born on the mountain of the sunrise, and in this world even the god of love is not a match for him in beauty. He alone is a husband fit for you, most beautiful lady of the three worlds, and he, being a lover of beauty, no doubt longs for you, who are famous for it. But, my friend, his head-wife is Vásavadattá, the daughter of Chandamahásena. And she selected him herself, deserting her relations in the ardour of her passion, and so sparing the blushes of Ushá, Sakuntalá and other maidens. And a son has been born to him by her, called Naraváhanadatta, who is appointed by the gods as the future emperor of the Vidyádharas. So it is through fear of her that the king of Vatsa does not send here to ask for your hand, but she has been seen by me, and she does not vie with you in the gift of beauty." When her friend Somaprabhá said this, Kalingasená, being in love with the king of Vatsa, answered her--"I know all this, but what can I do, as I am under the power of my parents? But in this, you, who know all things and possess magic power, are my refuge." Somaprabhá then said to her--"The whole matter depends on destiny; in proof of it hear the following tale." Story of Tejasvatí. Once on a time there lived in Ujjayiní a king named Vikramasena, and he had a daughter named Tejasvatí, matchless in beauty. And she disapproved of every king who sued for her hand. But one day, while she was on the roof of her palace, she saw a man, and as fate would have it, she felt a desire to meet him as he was very handsome, and she sent her confidante to him, to communicate to him her desire. The confidante went and entreated the man, who shrank from such an audacious step, and at last with much difficulty she made him against his will agree to an assignation, saying, "Await, good sir, the arrival of the princess at night in this retired temple which you see here." After saying this, she took leave of him, and went and told the princess Tejasvatí, who for her part remained watching the sun. But that man, though he had consented, fled somewhere else out of fear; a frog is not capable of relishing the fibres of a bed of red lotuses. In the meanwhile a certain prince of high lineage came, as his father was dead, to visit the king who had been his father's friend. And that handsome young prince, named Somadatta, whose kingdom and wealth had been taken by pretenders, arriving at night, entered by accident, to pass the night there, that very temple in which the confidante of the princess had arranged a meeting with the man. While he was there, the princess, blind with passion, approached him, without distinguishing who he was, and made him her self-chosen husband. The wise prince gladly received in silence the bride offered him by fate, who foreshadowed his union with the future Fortune of Royalty. And the princess soon perceived that he was very charming, and considered that she had not been deceived by the Creator. Immediately they conversed together, and the two separated according to agreement; the princess went to her own palace, while the king spent the rest of the night there. In the morning the prince went and announced his name by the mouth of the warder, and being recognised, entered into the presence of the king. There he told his sorrow on account of his kingdom having been taken away, and other insults, and the king agreed to assist him in overthrowing his enemies. And he determined to give him the daughter he had long desired to give away, and then and there told his intention to the ministers. Then the queen told the king his daughter's adventure, having been informed of it before by herself, through the mouths of trusty confidantes. Then the king was astonished at finding that calamity had been averted and his desire attained by mere chance, as in the fable of the crow and the palm, [476] and thereupon one of the ministers said to the king, "Fate watches to ensure the objects of auspicious persons, as good servants of their masters, when the latter are not on the look-out. And to illustrate this, I will tell you the following tale: listen!" Story of the Bráhman Harisarman. There was a certain Bráhman in a certain village, named Harisarman. [477] He was poor and foolish and in evil ease for want of employment, and he had very many children, that he might reap the fruit of his misdeeds in a former life. He wandered about begging with his family, and at last he reached a certain city, and entered the service of a rich householder called Sthúladatta. He made his sons keepers of this householder's cows and other possessions, and his wife a servant to him, and he himself lived near his house, performing the duty of an attendant. One day there was a feast on account of the marriage of the daughter of Sthúladatta, largely attended by many friends of the bridegroom, and merry-makers. And then Harisarman entertained a hope that he would be able to fill himself up to the throat with ghee and flesh and other dainties, together with his family, in the house of his patron. While he was anxiously expecting that occasion, no one thought of him. Then he was distressed at getting nothing to eat, and he said to his wife at night; "It is owing to my poverty and stupidity that I am treated with such disrespect here: so I will display by means of an artifice an assumed knowledge, in order that I may become an object of respect to this Sthúladatta, and when you get an opportunity, tell him that I possess supernatural knowledge." He said this to her, and after turning the matter over in his mind, while people were asleep he took away from the house of Sthúladatta a horse on which his son-in-law rode. He placed it in concealment at some distance, and in the morning the friends of the bridegroom could not find the horse, though they searched in every direction. Then, while Sthúladatta was distressed at the evil omen, and searching for the thieves who had carried off the horse, the wife of Harisarman came and said to him--"My husband is a wise man, skilled in astrology and sciences of that kind; and he will procure for you the horse; why do you not ask him?" When Sthúladatta heard that, he called that Harisarman, who said, "Yesterday I was forgotten, but to-day, now the horse is stolen, I am called to mind," and Sthúladatta then propitiated the Bráhman with these words--"I forgot you, forgive me"--and asked him to tell him who had taken away their horse? Then Harisarman drew all kinds of pretended diagrams and said,--"The horse has been placed by thieves on the boundary line south from this place. It is concealed there, and before it is carried off to a distance, as it will be at close of day, quickly go and bring it." When they heard that, many men ran and brought the horse quickly, praising the discernment of Harisarman. Then Harisarman was honoured by all men as a sage, and dwelt there in happiness, honoured by Sthúladatta. Then, as days went on, much wealth consisting of gold and jewels was carried off by a thief from the palace of the king. As the thief was not known, the king quickly summoned Harisarman on account of his reputation for supernatural knowledge. And he, when summoned, tried to gain time, and said "I will tell you to-morrow," and then he was placed in a chamber by the king, and carefully guarded. And he was despondent about his pretended knowledge. [478] Now in that palace there was a maid named Jihvá, [479] who, with the assistance of her brother had carried off that wealth from the interior of the palace: she, being alarmed at Harisarman's knowledge, went at night and applied her ear to the door of that chamber in order to find out what he was about. And Harisarman, who was alone inside, was at that very moment blaming his own tongue, that had made a vain assumption of knowledge. He said--"O Tongue, what is this that you have done, through desire of enjoyment? Ill-conducted one, endure now punishment in this place." When Jihvá heard this, she thought in her terror, that she had been discovered by this wise man, and by an artifice she managed to get in where he was, and falling at his feet, she said to that supposed sage;--"Bráhman, here I am, that Jihvá whom you have discovered to be the thief of the wealth, and after I took it, I buried it in the earth in a garden behind the palace, under a pomegranate tree. So spare me, and receive the small quantity of gold which is in my possession." When Harisarman heard that, he said to her proudly, "Depart, I know all this; I know the past, present and future: but I will not denounce you, being a miserable creature that has implored my protection. But whatever gold is in your possession you must give back to me." When he said this to the maid, she consented and departed quickly. But Harisarman reflected in his astonishment; "Fate, if propitious, brings about, as if in sport, a thing that cannot be accomplished, for in this matter when calamity was near, success has unexpectedly been attained by me. While I was blaming my tongue (jihvá), the thief Jihvá suddenly flung herself at my feet. Secret crimes I see, manifest themselves by means of fear." In these reflections he passed the night happily in the chamber. And in the morning he brought the king by some skilful parade of pretended knowledge into the garden, and led him up to the treasure, which was buried there and he said that the thief had escaped with a part of it. Then the king was pleased and proceeded to give him villages. But the minister, named Devajnánin, whispered in the king's ear, "How can a man possess such knowledge unattainable by men, without having studied treatises; so you may be certain that this is a specimen of the way he makes a dishonest livelihood, by having a secret intelligence with thieves. So it will be better to test him by some new artifice." Then the king of his own accord brought a new covered pitcher into which he had thrown a frog, and said to that Harisarman--"Bráhman, if you can guess what there is in this pitcher, I will do you great honour to-day." When the Bráhman Harisarman heard that, he thought that his last hour had come, and he called to mind the pet name of frog which his father had given him in his childhood in sport, and impelled by the deity he apostrophized himself by it, lamenting his hard fate, and suddenly exclaimed there--"This is a fine pitcher for you, frog, since suddenly it has become the swift destroyer of your helpless self in this place." The people there, when they heard that, made a tumult of applause, because his speech chimed in so well with the object presented to him, and murmured,--"Ah! a great sage, he knows even about the frog!" Then the king, thinking that this was all due to knowledge of divination, was highly delighted, and gave Harisarman villages with gold, umbrella, and vehicles of all kinds. And immediately Harisarman became like a feudal chief. "Thus good objects are brought about by fate for those whose actions in a former life have been good. Accordingly fate made that daughter of yours, Tejasvatí, approach Somadatta a man of equal birth, and kept away one who was unsuited to her." Hearing this from the mouth of his minister, the king Vikramasena gave his daughter to that prince as if she were the goddess of fortune. Then the prince went and overcame his enemies by the help of his father-in-law's host, and being established in his own kingdom, lived happily in the company of his wife. "So true is it that all this happens by the special favour of fate; who on earth would be able to join you, lovely as you are, with the king of Vatsa, though a suitable match for you, without the help of fate? What can I do in this matter, friend Kalingasená?" Kalingasená, hearing this story in private from the mouth of Somaprabhá, became eager in her soul for union with the king of Vatsa, and, in her aspirations after him, began to feel in a less degree the fear of her relations and the warnings of modesty. Then, the sun, the great lamp of the three worlds, being about to set, Somaprabhá the daughter of the Asura Maya, having with difficulty taken leave, until her morning return, of her friend, whose mind was fixed upon her proposed attempt, went through the air to her own home. Note on the story of Harisarman. The story of Harisarman resembles closely that of Doctor Allwissend in Grimm's Tales. It is shown by Benfey to exist in various forms in many countries. It is found in the Siddhikür, the Mongolian form of the Sanskrit Vetálapanchavinsati. In this form of the story the incident of the frog in the pot is omitted, and the other incidents are considerably altered. Instead of the king's treasure we find a magic gem, on which the prosperity of the country depends; it is not stolen but lost by the king's daughter. Instead of the horse we have the cure of a sick Khán who had been driven mad by evil spirits. The folly of the man who represents the Bráhman consists in his choosing worthless presents for his reward. (The story is the IVth in Sagas from the Far East.) Benfey considers the fullest form of the story to be that in Schleicher's Lithuanian Legends. In this form of the story we have the stealing of the horse. In other points it resembles the Mongolian version. The Bráhman is represented by a poor cottager, who puts up over his door a notice saying that he is a Doctor, who knows everything and can do everything. The third exploit of the cottager is the finding of a stolen treasure which is the second in the Indian story, but his second is a miraculous cure which is in accordance with the Siddikür. The latter is probably a late work; and we may presume that the Mongols brought the Indian story to Europe, in a form resembling that in the Kathá Sarit Ságara more nearly than the form in the Siddikür does. In the third exploit of the cottager in the Lithuanian tale, which corresponds to the second in the Indian, the treasure has been stolen by three servants. They listen outside while the Doctor is alone in his room. When the clock strikes one,--he says, "We have one." When it strikes two, he says--"We have two." When it strikes three, he says,--"We have now three." In their terror they go to the doctor and beg him not to betray them. He is richly rewarded. But after all, Grimm's form of the tale is nearest to the Sanskrit. The dish with crabs in it, the contents of which the Doctor has to guess, makes him exclaim--"Ach ich armer Krebs." This might almost have been translated from the Sanskrit; it is so similar in form. The guilty servants, who stole the gold are detected by the Doctor's saying to his wife--"Margaret, that is the first"--meaning the first who waited at table, and so on. The story is also found in the Facetiæ of Henricus Bebelius, 1506. Here a poor charcoal-burner represents the Bráhman. He asks three days to consider. The king gives him a good dinner, and while the first thief is standing at the window, he exclaims "Jam unus accessit" meaning "one day is at an end." The next day the second thief comes to listen. The charcoal-burner exclaims "Secundus accessit" and so with the third, whereupon they all confess. Benfey conceives himself to have found the incident of the horse in Poggii Facetiæ (LXXXVI ed. Cracov. 1592, p. 59). Here a doctor boasts a wonder-working pill. A man who has lost his ass takes one of these pills. It conducts him to a bed of reeds where he finds his ass. (The article from which I have taken these parallels is found in Benfey's Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 371 and ff.) CHAPTER XXXI. The next morning Somaprabhá arrived, and Kalingasená said to her friend in her confidential conversation--"My father certainly wishes to give me to Prasenajit, I heard this from my mother, and you have seen that he is an old man. But you have described the king of Vatsa in such a way in the course of conversation, that my mind has been captivated by him entering in through the gate of my ear. So first shew me Prasenajit, and then take me there, where the king of Vatsa is; what do I care for my father, or my mother?" When the impatient girl said this, Somaprabhá answered her--"If you must go, then let us go in the chariot that travels through the air. But you must take with you all your retinue, for, as soon as you have seen the king of Vatsa, you will find it impossible to return. And you will never see or think of your parents, and when you have obtained your beloved, you will forget even me, as I shall be at a distance from you. For I shall never enter your husband's house, my friend." When the princess heard that, she wept and said to her,--"Then bring that king of Vatsa here, my friend, for I shall not be able to exist there a moment without you: was not Aniruddha brought to Ushá by Chitralekhá? And though you know it, hear from my mouth that story." Story of Ushá and Aniruddha. The Asura Bána had a daughter, famous under the name of Ushá. And she propitiated Gaurí, who granted her a boon in order that she might obtain a husband, saying to her, "He to whom you shall be united in a dream, shall be your husband." Then she saw in a dream a certain man looking like a divine prince. She was married by him according to the Gándharva form of marriage, and after obtaining the joy of union with him, she woke up at the close of night. When she did not see the husband she had seen in her dream, but beheld the traces of his presence, she remembered the boon of Gaurí, and was full of disquietude, fear, and astonishment. And being miserable without the husband whom she had seen in her dream, she confessed all to her friend Chitralekhá, who questioned her. And Chitralekhá, being acquainted with magic, thus addressed that Ushá, who knew not the name of her lover nor any sign whereby to recognise him,--"My friend, this is the result of the boon of the goddess Gaurí, what doubt can we allege in this matter? But how are you to search for your lover as he is not to be recognised by any token? I will sketch for you the whole world, gods, Asuras, and men, in case you may be able to recognise him; [480] and point him out to me among them, in order that I may bring him." Thus spoke Chitralekhá, and when Ushá answered "By all means!" she painted for her with coloured pencils the whole world in order. Thereupon Ushá exclaimed joyfully, "There he is," and pointed out with trembling finger Aniruddha in Dváravatí of the race of Yadu. Then Chitralekhá said--"My friend, you are fortunate, in that you have obtained for a husband Aniruddha the grandson of the adorable Vishnu. But he lives sixty thousand yojanas from here." When Ushá heard that, she said to her, overpowered by excessive longing, "Friend, if I cannot to-day repair to his bosom cool as sandal wood, know that I am already dead, being burnt up with the uncontrollable fire of love." When Chitralekhá heard this, she consoled her dear friend, and immediately flew up and went through the air to the city of Dváravatí; and she beheld it in the middle of the sea, producing with its vast and lofty palaces an appearance as if the peaks of the churning mountain [481] had again been flung into the ocean. She found Aniruddha asleep in that city at night, and woke him up, and told him that Ushá had fallen in love with him on account of having seen him in a dream. And she took the prince, who was eager for the interview, looking exactly as he had before appeared in Ushá's dream, and returned from Dváravatí in a moment by the might of her magic. And flying with him through the air, she introduced that lover secretly into the private apartments of Ushá, who was awaiting him. When Ushá beheld that Aniruddha arrived in bodily form, resembling the moon, there was a movement in her limbs resembling the tide of the sea. [482] Then she remained there with that sweet-heart who had been given her by her friend, in perfect happiness, as if with Life embodied in visible form. But her father Bána, when he heard it, was angry; however Aniruddha conquered him by his own valour and the might of his grandfather. Then Ushá and Aniruddha returned to Dváravatí and became inseparable like Siva and Párvatí. [483] "Thus Chitralekhá united Ushá with her lover in one day, but I consider you, my friend, far more powerful than her. So bring me the king of Vatsa here, do not delay." When Somaprabhá heard this from Kalingasená, she said--"Chitralekhá, a nymph of heaven, might take up a strange man and bring him, but what can one like myself do in the matter, who never touch any man but my husband? So I will take you, my friend, to the place where the king of Vatsa is, having first shewn you your suitor Prasenajit." When Somaprabhá made this proposal to Kalingasená, she consented, and immediately ascended with her the magic chariot prepared by her, and setting out through the air with her treasures and her retinue, she went off unknown to her parents. For women impelled by love regard neither height nor depth in front of them, as a horse urged on by his rider does not fear the keenest sword-edge. First she came to Srávastí, and beheld from a distance the king Prasenajit white with age, who had gone out to hunt, distinguished by a chouri frequently waved, which seemed at a distance to repel her as if saying--"Leave this old man." And Somaprabhá pointed him out with a scornful laugh, saying--"Look! this is the man to whom your father wishes to give you." Then she said to Somaprabhá--"Old age has chosen him for her own, what other female will choose him?" "So take me away from here quickly, my friend, to the king of Vatsa." Immediately Kalingasená went with her to the city of Kausámbí through the air. Then she beheld from a distance with eagerness that king of Vatsa, pointed out by her friend in a garden, as the female partridge beholds the nectar-rayed moon. With dilated eye, and hand placed on the heart, she seemed to say "He has entered my soul by this path." Then she exclaimed, "Friend, procure me a meeting here with the king of Vatsa this very day; for having seen him I am not able to wait a moment." But when she said this, her friend Somaprabhá answered her--"I have seen to-day an unfavourable omen, so remain, my friend, this day quiet and unobserved in this garden, do not, my friend, send go-betweens backwards and forwards. To-morrow I will come and devise some expedient for your meeting: at present, O thou whose home is in my heart, I desire to return to the home of my husband." Having said this, Somaprabhá departed thence after leaving her there; and the king of Vatsa, leaving the garden, entered his palace. Then Kalingasená, remaining there, sent her chamberlain, giving him her message explicitly, to the king of Vatsa; and this she did, though previously forbidden by her friend, who understood omens. Love, when recently enthroned in the breasts of young women, is impatient of all restraint. And the chamberlain went and announced himself by the mouth of the warder, and immediately entering, thus addressed the king of Vatsa--"O king, the daughter of Kalingadatta the king who rules over Takshasilá, Kalingasená by name, having heard that you are most handsome, has come here to choose you for a husband, abandoning her relatives, having accomplished the journey in a magic car that travels through the air, together with her attendants; and she has been conducted here by her confidante named Somaprabhá, who travels invisible, the daughter of the Asura Maya, the wife of Nadakúvara. I have been sent by her to inform you; do you receive her; let there be union of you two as of the moonlight and the moon." When the king heard this from the chamberlain, he welcomed him, saying--"I consent," and being delighted, he honoured him with gold and garments. And summoning his chief minister Yaugandharáyana, he said to him, "The daughter of king Kalingadatta, who is called Kalingasená, and whose beauty is famed on the earth, has come of her own accord to choose me as a husband; so tell me quickly, when shall I marry her, for she is not to be rejected?" The minister Yaugandharáyana, when the king of Vatsa said this to him, regarding what would be best for his master in the long run, reflected for a moment as follows: [484] "Kalingasená is certainly famed for beauty in the three worlds, there is no other like her; even the gods are in love with her. If this king of Vatsa obtain her, he will abandon everything else, and then the queen Vásavadattá will lose her life, and then the prince Naraváhanadatta will perish, and Padmávatí out of love for him will find life hard to retain: and then Chandamahásena and Pradyota, the fathers of the two queens, will lose their lives or become hostile; and thus utter ruin will follow. On the other hand it will not do to forbid the match, since the vicious passion of this king will increase if he is thwarted. So I will put off the time of his marriage in order to attain a favourable issue." Having thus reflected, Yaugandharáyana said to the king of Vatsa, "O king, you are fortunate in that this Kalingasená has of her own accord come to your house, and the king, her father, has become your servant. So you must consult the astrologers, and marry her in accordance with good custom at an auspicious time, for she is the daughter of a great king. To-day give her a suitable palace to dwell in by herself, and send her male and female slaves, and robes and ornaments." When his chief minister gave him this advice, the king of Vatsa approved it, and with glad heart performed it all with special attention. Then Kalingasená entered the palace assigned her for residence, and considering her desire attained, was exceedingly delighted. The wise Yaugandharáyana, for his part, immediately left the king's court, went to his own house, and reflected--"Often procrastination serves to avert an inauspicious measure. For long ago, when Indra had fled on account of having caused the death of a Bráhman, and Nahusha obtained the sovereignty over the gods, he fell in love with Sachí, [485] and she was saved by the preceptor of the gods [486], to whom she had fled for refuge. For in order to gain time, he kept saying--'She will come to you to-day or to-morrow,'--until Nahusha was destroyed by the curse of a Bráhman, uttered with an angry roar, and Indra regained the sovereignty of the gods. In the same way I must keep putting off my master." Having thus reflected, the minister secretly made an arrangement with the astrologers that they were to fix a distant date. Then the queen Vásavadattá found out what had taken place, and summoned the prime-minister to her palace. When he entered and bowed before her, the queen said to him, weeping--"Noble sir, you said to me long ago, 'Queen, as long as I remain where I am, you shall have no other rival but Padmávatí,' and observe now, this Kalingasená is about to be married here: and she is beautiful, and my husband is attached to her, so you have proved a prophet of falsehood and I am now a dead woman." When the minister Yaugandharáyana heard this, he said to her--"Be composed, for how could this happen, queen, while I am alive? However, you must not oppose the king in this matter, but must on the contrary take refuge in self-restraint, and shew him all complaisance. The sick man is not induced to place himself in the physician's hands by disagreeable speeches, but he is by agreeable speeches, if the physician does his work by a conciliatory method. If a man is dragged against the current, he will never escape from the stream of a river, or from a vicious tendency, but if he is carried with the current, he will escape from both. So when the king comes into your presence, receive him with all attentions, without anger, concealing your real feelings. Approve at present of his marrying Kalingasená, saying that his kingdom will be made more powerful by her father also becoming his ally. And if you do this, the king will perceive that you possess in a high degree the virtue of magnanimity, and his love and courtesy towards you will increase, and thinking that Kalingasená is within his reach, he will not be impatient, for the desire of a man for any object increases if he is restrained. And you must teach this lesson to Padmávatí also, O blameless one, and so that king may submit to our putting him off in this matter. And after this, I ween, you will behold my skill in stratagem. For the wise are tested in difficulty, even as heroes are tested in fight. So, queen, do not be despondent." In these words Yaugandharáyana admonished the queen, and, as she received his counsels with respect, he departed thence. [487] But the king of Vatsa, throughout that day, neither in light nor darkness entered the private apartments of either of the two queens, for his mind was eager for a new well-matched union with Kalingasená, who had approached him in such an ardour of spontaneous choice. And then the queen and the prime-minister and the king and Kalingasená spent the night in wakefulness like that of a great feast, apart in their respective houses, the second couple through impatience for a rare delight, and the first through very profound anxiety. CHAPTER XXXII. Then the artful minister Yaugandharáyana came the next morning to the king of Vatsa, who was expecting him, and made the following representation--"O king, why do you not immediately enquire about an auspicious moment for celebrating the happy marriage of your highness with Kalingasená, the daughter of Kalingadatta, the king of Takshasilá?" [488] When the king heard that, he said--"The same desire is fixed in my heart, for my mind cannot endure to remain a moment without her." Having said this, the simple-hearted monarch gave orders to a warder, who stood before him, and summoned the astrologers. When he questioned them, they, having had their cue previously given them by the prime minister, said, "For the king there will be a favourable moment in six months from this time." When Yaugandharáyana heard this, he pretended to be angry, and the cunning fellow said to the king, "Out on these blockheads! That astrologer, whom your highness previously honoured on the ground of his cleverness, has not come to-day, ask him, and then do what is proper." When he heard this speech of his minister's, the king of Vatsa immediately summoned that very astrologer with mind in an agony of suspense. He also stuck to his agreement, and in order to put off the day of the marriage he named when asked, after some reflection, a moment six months off. Then Yaugandharáyana pretending to be distracted, said to the king--"Let your majesty command what is to be done in this matter!" The king, being impatient and longing for a favourable moment, said, after reflecting--"You must ask Kalingasená, and see what she says." When Yaugandharáyana heard this, he took with him two astrologers and went into the presence of Kalingasená. She received him politely, and beholding her beauty, he reflected--"If the king were to obtain her, he would abandon the whole kingdom in his reckless passion." And he said to her, "I am come with these astrologers to fix the moment of your marriage; so let these servants inform me of the particular star in the lunar mansions under which you were born." When the astrologers heard the lunar mansion stated by her attendants, they pretended to investigate the matter, and kept saying in the course of their calculations, "It is not on this side, it must be after that." At last, in accordance with their agreement with the minister, they named again that very moment at the end of six months. When Kalingasená heard that distant date fixed, she was cast down in spirit, but her chamberlain said, "You must first fix a favourable moment, so that this couple may be happy all their lives, what matters it whether it be near or far off?" When they heard this speech of the chamberlain's, all there immediately exclaimed--"Well said." And Yaugandharáyana said, "Yes, and if an inauspicious moment is appointed for us, the king Kalingadatta, our proposed connexion, will be grieved." Then Kalingasená, being helpless, said to them all--"Let it be as you appoint in your wisdom"--and remained silent. And at once accepting that speech of hers, Yaugandharáyana took leave of her, and went with the astrologers into the presence of the king. Then he told the proceedings to the king of Vatsa, exactly as they had happened, and so having settled his mind by an artifice, he went to his own house. So having attained his object of putting off the marriage, in order to complete the scheme he had in view, he called to mind his friend, the Bráhman-Rákshasa, named Yogesvara. He, according to his previous promise, when thought of, readily came to the minister, and bowed before him and said--"Why am I called to mind?" Then Yaugandharáyana told him the whole incident of Kalingasená which was tempting his master to vice, and again said to him--"I have managed to gain time, my friend; in that interval, do you, remaining concealed, observe by your skill the behaviour of Kalingasená. For the Vidyádharas and other spirits are without doubt secretly in love with her, since there is no other woman in the three worlds equal to her in beauty. So, if she were to have an intrigue with some Siddha or Vidyádhara, and you were to see it, it would be a fortunate thing. And you must observe the divine lover, though he come disguised, when he is asleep, for divine beings, when asleep, assume their own form. If in this way we are able to discover any offence in her by means of your eyes, the king will be disgusted with her, and will accomplish that object of ours." When the minister said this to him, the Bráhman-Rákshasa answered, "Why should I not by some artifice cause her to fall or slay her?" When the great minister Yaugandharáyana heard that, he said to him--"This must not be done, for it would be a very wicked deed. And whoever goes his own way without offending against the god of justice, finds that that god comes to his assistance to enable him to attain his objects. So you must discover in her, my friend, a fault self-caused, in order that through your friendship the king's objects may be accomplished by me." Having received this order from the excellent minister, the Bráhman-Rákshasa departed, and disguised by magic entered the house of Kalingasená. In the meanwhile Somaprabhá, her friend, the daughter of the Asura Maya, went again into the presence of Kalingasená. And the daughter of Maya, after asking her friend what had happened in the night, said to her who had abandoned her relations, in the hearing of that Rákshasa--"I came here in the forenoon after searching for you, but I remained concealed at your side, seeing Yaugandharáyana. However I heard your conversation, and I understood the whole state of affairs. So why did you make this attempt yesterday though you were forbidden to do so by me? For any business which is undertaken, my friend, without first counteracting the evil omen, will end in calamity; as a proof of this, hear the following tale:" Story of the Bráhman's son Vishnudatta and his seven foolish companions. Long ago there lived in Antarvedi a Bráhman named Vasudatta, and he had a son born to him named Vishnudatta. That Vishnudatta, after he reached the age of sixteen years, set out for the city of Vallabhí in order to acquire learning. And there joined him seven other young Bráhmans his fellows, but those seven were fools, while he was wise and sprung from a good family. After they had taken an oath not to desert one another, Vishnudatta set out with them at night without the knowledge of his parents. And after he had set forth, he saw an evil omen presenting itself in front of him, and he said to those friends of his who were travelling with him,--"Ha! Here is a bad omen! it is advisable to turn back now; we will set out again with good hope of success, when we have auspicious omens with us." When those seven foolish companions heard that, they said, "Do not entertain groundless fear, for we are not afraid of the omen. If you are afraid, do not go, but we will start this moment; to-morrow morning our relations will abandon us, when they hear of our proceedings." When those ignorant creatures said that, Vishnudatta set out with them, urged on by his oath, but he first called to mind Hari, the dispeller of sin. And at the end of the night he saw another evil omen, and again mentioned it, and he was rebuked by all those foolish friends of his in the following words; "This is our evil omen, you coward afraid to travel, that you have been brought by us, since you shudder at a crow at every step you take; we require no other evil omen." Having reviled him in these words, they continued their journey and Vishnudatta went with them, as he could not help it, but kept silence, reflecting--"One ought not to give advice to a fool bent on going his own crooked way, for it only entails ridicule, being like the beautifying of ordure. A single wise man fallen among many fools, like a lotus in the path of the waves, is surely overwhelmed. So I must not henceforth give these men either good or bad advice, but I must go on in silence; destiny will educe prosperity." Engaged in these reflections, Vishnudatta proceeded on the way with those fools, and at the end of the day he reached a Savara village. There he wandered about in the night and reached a certain house inhabited by a young woman, and asked the woman for a lodging there. She gave him a room, and he entered it with his friends, and those seven in a moment went to sleep. He alone remained awake, as he had entered a house belonging to a savage. For the stupid sleep resolutely, how can the understanding sleep? And in the meanwhile a certain young man secretly entered the inner apartment of the house, and went into the presence of that woman. And she remained in confidential conversation with him, and as fate would have it, they both fell asleep. And Vishnudatta, perceiving it all through the half-open door by the light of a candle, reflected despondently, "Alas! have we entered the house of a profligate woman? Surely this is her paramour, and not the husband of her youth, for otherwise we should not have this timid secret proceeding; I saw at the first that she was of a flighty disposition; but we have entered here as mutual witnesses, for lack of others." While he was thinking he heard outside a noise of men, and he saw entering a young chief of the Savaras with a sword, looking about him, while his attendants remained in the sleeping apartment. When the chief said--"Who are you?" Vishnudatta, supposing him to be the master of the house, said in his terror--"We are travellers." But the Savara entered, and seeing his wife in such a position, he cut off with his sword the head of her sleeping paramour. But he did not punish or even wake his wife; but placing his sword on the ground he went to sleep on another couch. Seeing that by the light of the candle, Vishnudatta reflected--"He did right not to kill his wife, but to kill the adulterer; but that he should sleep here in confidence, after performing such a deed, is an act of surprising courage, characteristic of men of mighty minds." While Vishnudatta was thus reflecting, that wicked woman awoke and beheld her paramour slain, and that husband of hers asleep. So she rose up, and took on her shoulder the body of her lover, and carrying his head in one hand, she went out. And going outside quickly, she threw into an ash-heap the trunk with the head, and came secretly back. And Vishnudatta going out beheld it all from a distance, and again entering remained as he was, in the midst of his sleeping companions. But the wicked woman came back, and entering the room, cut off with that very sword the head of her sleeping husband. And going out she raised a cry so as to make all the servants hear, "Alas! I am ruined, my husband has been slain by these travellers." Then the servants, hearing the cry, rushed forward and beholding their master slain, ran upon Vishnudatta and his friends with uplifted weapons. And when those others, his companions, rose up in terror, as they were about to be slain, Vishnudatta said quickly--"Cease your attempt to slay Bráhmans! We did not do this deed; this wicked woman herself did it, being in love with another man. But I saw the whole affair from the very beginning, through a half-open door; and I went out and observed what she did, and if you will have patience with me, I will tell you." Vishnudatta with these words restrained the Savaras, and told them the whole affair from the beginning, and took them out and showed them the trunk with the head freshly severed and thrown by the woman on that heap of refuse. Then the woman confessed the truth by the paleness of her face, and all there reviled the wanton, and said--"Whom will not a wicked woman kill, when won over by another man, like a sword in an enemy's hand, since enticed by love she commits reckless crime without being taught." Having said this, they thereupon let Vishnudatta and his companions go; and then the seven companions praised Vishnudatta, saying, "You became to us, while we were asleep at night, a protecting jewel-lamp, through your kindness we escaped to-day from death produced by an evil omen." In these words they praised Vishnudatta, and ceased henceforth their reviling, and after bowing before him they set out in the morning on their errand, accompanied by him. Having told this story to Kalingasená in their mutual conversation, Somaprabhá again said to that friend of hers in Kausámbí.--"Thus, my friend, an evil omen presenting itself to people engaged in any undertaking, if not counteracted by delay and other methods, produces misfortune. And so people of dull intelligence, neglecting the advice of the wise, and acting impetuously, are afflicted in the end. Accordingly you did not act wisely in sending a messenger to the king of Vatsa, asking him to receive you, when there was an inauspicious omen. May Fate grant you to be married without any impediment, but you came from your house in an unlucky moment, therefore your marriage is far off. And the gods too are in love with you, so you must be on your guard against this. And you must think of the minister Yaugandharáyana, who is expert in politic wiles; he, fearing that the king may become engrossed in pleasure, may throw impediments in your way in this business; or he may even bring a charge against you after your marriage is celebrated: but no, being virtuous, he will not bring a false accusation; nevertheless, my friend, you must at all events be on your guard against your rival wife, I will tell you a story illustrative of this, listen." Story of Kadalígarbhá. There is in this land a city named Ikshumatí, and by the side of it there runs a river called by the same name; both were created by Visvámitra. And near it there is a great forest, and in it a hermit of the name of Mankanaka had made himself a hermitage and performed penance with his heels upwards. And while he was performing austerities, he saw an Apsaras of the name of Menaká coming through the air, with her clothes floating on the breeze. Then his mind was bewildered by Cupid, who had found his opportunity, and there was born to him a daughter named Kadalígarbhá, [489] beautiful in every limb. And since she was born in the interior of a plantain, her father, the hermit Mankanaka, gave her the name of Kadalígarbhá. She grew up in his hermitage like Kripí the wife of Drona, who was born to Gautama on his beholding Rambhá. And once on a time Dridhavarman, a king born in Madhyadesa, [490] who in the excitement of the chase was carried away by his horse, entered that hermitage. He beheld Kadalígarbhá clothed in garments of bark, having her beauty exceedingly set off by the dress appropriate to the daughter of an ascetic. And she, when seen, captivated the heart of that king so completely, that she left no room in it for the women of his harem. While thinking to himself--"Shall I be able to obtain as a wife this daughter of some hermit or other, as Dushyanta obtained Sakuntalá the daughter of the hermit Kanva?"--the king beheld that hermit Mankanaka coming with fuel and kusa-grass. And leaving his horse, he approached him and worshipped at his feet, and when questioned, discovered himself to that hermit. Then the hermit gave the following order to Kadalígarbhá--"My dear child, prepare the arghya [491] for this king our guest." She said--"I will do so"--and bowing, prepared the hospitable offering, and then the king said to the hermit--"Whence did you obtain this maiden who is so beautiful?"--Then the hermit told the king the story of her birth, and her name Kadalígarbhá, which indicated the manner of it. Then the king, considering the maiden born from the hermit's thinking on Menaká to be an Apsaras, earnestly craved her hand of her father. And the sage gave him that daughter named Kadalígarbhá, for the actions of the sages of old time, guided by divine insight, were without hesitation. And the nymphs of heaven, discovering the fact by their divine power, came there out of love for Menaká, and adorned her for the wedding. And on that very occasion they put mustard-seeds into her hand and said to her,--"As you are going along the path, sow them, in order that you may know it again. If, daughter, at any time your husband should scorn you, and you should wish to return here, then you will be able, as you come along, to recognise the path by these, which will have sprung up." When they had said this to her, and her marriage had been celebrated, the king Dridhavarman placed Kadalígarbhá on his horse, and departed thence. His army came up and escorted him, and in company with that bride of his, who sowed the mustard-seeds all along the path, he reached his own palace. There he became averse to the society of his other wives, and dwelt with that Kadalígarbhá, after telling her story to his ministers. Then his principal wife, being exceedingly afflicted, said to his minister in secret, after reminding him of the benefits she had conferred upon him: "The king is now exclusively attached to his new wife and has deserted me, so take steps to make this rival of mine depart." When that minister heard that, he said--"Queen, it is not appropriate for people like me to destroy or banish their masters' wives. This is the business of the wives of wandering religious mendicants, addicted to jugglery and such practices, associating with men like themselves. For those hypocritical female ascetics, creeping unforbidden into houses, skilled in deception, will stick at no deed whatever." When he said this to her, the queen, as if abashed, said to him in affected shame--"Then I will have nothing to do with this proceeding disapproved of by the virtuous." But she laid up his speech in her heart, and dismissing that minister, she summoned by the mouth of her maid a certain wandering female ascetic. And she told her all that desire of hers from the beginning, and promised to give her great wealth if the business were successfully accomplished. And the wicked female ascetic, from desire of gain, said to the afflicted queen--"Queen, this is an easy matter, I will accomplish it for you, for I know very many expedients of various kinds." Having thus consoled the queen, that female ascetic departed; and after reaching her house, she reflected as one afraid, "Alas! whom will not excessive desire of gain delude, since I rashly made such a promise before the queen? But the fact is, I know no device of the kind, and it is not possible to carry on any deception in the palace, as I do in other places, for the authorities might perhaps find it out and punish me. There may be one resource in this difficulty, for I have a friend, a barber, and as he is skilled in devices of the kind, all may yet go well, if he exert himself in the matter." After thus reflecting, she went to the barber, and told him all her plan that was to bring her prosperity. Then the barber, who was old and cunning, reflected--"This is good luck, that an opportunity of making something has now presented itself to me. So we must not kill the king's new wife, but we must preserve her alive, for her father has divine insight, and would reveal the whole transaction. But by separating her from the king we will now batten upon the queen, for great people become servants to a servant who shares their criminal secrets. And in due time I will re-unite her to the king, and tell him the whole story, in order that he and the sage's daughter may become a source of subsistence to me. And thus I shall not have done anything very wrong, and I shall have a livelihood for a long time." Having thus reflected, the barber said to the hypocritical female ascetic--"Mother, I will do all this, but it would not be proper to slay that new wife of the king's by means of magic, for the king might some day find it out, and then he would destroy us all: besides we should incur the sin of woman-murder, and her father the sage would curse us. Therefore it is far better that she should be separated from the king by means of our ingenuity, in order that the queen may be happy, and we may obtain wealth [punctuation missing in scan] And this is an easy matter to me, for what can I not accomplish by force of intellect? Hear my ingenuity, I will relate a story which illustrates it." Story of the king and the barber's wife This king Dridhavarman had an immoral father. And I was then his servant, being engaged in the duties which belong to me. He, one day, as he was roaming about here, cast eyes on my wife; and as she was young and beautiful, his mind became attached to her. And when he asked his attendants who she was, they said--"The barber's wife." He thought--"What can the barber do?" So the wicked king entered my house, and after enjoying at will the society of my wife, departed. But, as it happened, I was away from my house that day, being absent somewhere or other. And the next day, when I entered, I saw that my wife's manner had altered, and when I asked her the reason, she told me the whole story, being full of pride at what had occurred. And in that way the king went on puffing up my wife by continual visits, which I was powerless to prevent. A prince distracted by unholy passion makes no distinction between what is lawful and what is illicit. The forest is like straw to a sylvan fire fanned by the wind. So, not being in possession of any other expedient for restraining my sovereign, I reduced myself with spare diet, and took refuge in feigned sickness. And in this state I went into the presence of that king to perform my duties, sighing deeply, pale and emaciated. Then the king, seeing that I seemed to be ill, asked me meaningly the following question--"Holla! tell me why you have become thus?" And after he had questioned me persistently, I answered the king in private, after imploring immunity from punishment--"King, my wife is a witch. And when I am asleep she extracts my entrails and sucks them, and then replaces them as before--This is how I have become lean. So how can continual refreshment and eating nourish me?" When I said this to the king, he became anxious and reflected--"Can she really be a witch? Why was I captivated by her? I wonder whether she will suck my entrails also, since I am well nourished with food. So I will myself contrive to test her this very night." Having thus reflected, the king caused food to be given me on the spot. Then I went home and shed tears in the presence of my wife, and when she questioned me, I said to her--"My beloved, you must not reveal to any one what I am about to tell you. Listen! That king has teeth as sharp as the edge of a thunderbolt, where teeth are not usually found, and they broke my razor to-day while I was performing my duties. And in this way I shall break a razor every time. So how am I to be continually procuring fresh razors? This is why I weep, for the means of supporting myself in my home are destroyed." When I had said this to my wife, she made up her mind to investigate the marvel of the concealed teeth while the king was asleep, since he was to visit her at night. But she did not perceive that such a thing had never been seen since the world was, and could not be true. Even clever women are deceived by the tales of an impostor. So the king came at night and visited my wife at will, and as if fatigued, pretended to go to sleep, remembering what I had said. Then my wife, thinking he was asleep, slowly stretched out her hand to find his concealed teeth. And as soon as her hand reached him, the king exclaimed--"A witch! A witch!" and left the house in terror. Henceforth my wife, having been abandoned by the king out of fear, became satisfied with me and devoted to me exclusively. In this way I saved my wife on a former occasion from the king by my intelligence. Having told this story to the female ascetic, the barber went on to say--"So, my good lady, this desire of yours must be accomplished by wisdom; and I will tell you, mother, how it is to be done, listen to me. Some old servant of the harem must be won over to say to this king in secret every day, 'Your wife Kadalígarbhá is a witch.' For she, being a forest maiden, has no attendants of her own, and what will not all alien servants do for gain, being easily corrupted? Accordingly, when the king becomes apprehensive on hearing what the old servant says, you must contrive to place at night hands and feet and other limbs in the chamber of Kadalígarbhá. [492] Then the king will see them in the morning, and concluding that what the old man says is true, will be afraid of Kadalígarbhá and desert her of his own accord. So the queen will be delighted at getting rid of a rival wife, and entertain a favourable opinion of you, and we shall gain some advantage." When the barber said this to the female ascetic, she consented and went and told the whole matter to the king's head queen. And the queen carried out her suggestions, and the king, who had been warned, saw the hands and feet in the morning with his own eyes, and abandoned Kadalígarbhá, thinking her to be wicked. So the female ascetic, together with the barber, enjoyed to the full the presents which the queen secretly gave to her, being pleased with her aid. So Kadalígarbhá, being abandoned by Dridhavarman, went out from the palace, grieved because the king would be cursed. And she returned to the hermitage of her father by the same path by which she came, which she was able to recognise by the mustard-seeds she had sown, which had sprung up. [493] Her father, the hermit Mankanaka, when he saw her suddenly arrived there, remained for some time suspecting immorality on her part. And then he perceived the whole occurrence by the power of contemplation, and after lovingly comforting her, departed thence with her. And he went and told the king, who bowed before him, the whole treacherous drama, which the head queen had got up out of hatred for her rival. At that moment the barber himself arrived, and related the whole occurrence to the king, and then proceeded to say this to him; "In this way, my sovereign, I sent away the lady Kadalígarbhá, and so delivered her from the danger of the incantations which would have been practised against her, since I satisfied the head queen by an artifice." When the king heard that, he saw that the speech of the great hermit was certainly true, and he took back Kadalígarbhá, recovering his confidence in her. And after respectfully accompanying the departing hermit, he rewarded the barber with wealth, thinking that he was attached to his person: kings are the appointed prey of rogues. Then the king, being averse to the society of his queen, lived in great comfort with Kadalígarbhá. "Many false accusations of this kind do rival wives bring, O Kalingasená of irreproachable beauty. And you are a maiden, the auspicious moment of whose marriage is fixed at a distant date, and even the gods, whose goings transcend our thought, are in love with you. So do you yourself preserve yourself now, as the one jewel of the world, dedicated to the king of Vatsa only, from all assaults, for your own excellence brings you enmity. I indeed, my friend, shall never return to you, since you are now established in the palace of your husband: good women do not visit the house of a friend's husband, O fair one! besides I have been forbidden by my own lord. And it is not possible for me to come here secretly, induced by my affection for you, inasmuch as my husband possesses divine insight and would find it out; with difficulty in truth did I obtain his permission to come here to-day. And since I can be of no use to you now, my friend, I will return home, but if my husband should give me permission, I will come here again, disregarding modesty." Thus Somaprabhá, the daughter of the Asura king, spake weeping to Kalingasená, the daughter of the mortal king, whose face also was washed with tears, and after embracing her, departed swiftly to her own palace, as the day was passing away. CHAPTER XXXIII. Then the princess Kalingasená, who had deserted her own country and relations, remembering her dear friend Somaprabhá who had left her, and finding the great festival of her marriage with the king of Vatsa delayed, remained in Kausámbí like a doe that had strayed from the forest. And the king of Vatsa, feeling a little bitter against the astrologers, who were so dexterous in deferring the marriage of Kalingasená, being despondent with love-longing, went that day to divert his mind, to the private apartments of Vásavadattá. There the queen, who had been tutored beforehand by the excellent minister, let fall no sign of anger, but shewed especial sedulity in honouring her husband with her usual attentions. And the king, wondering how it was that, even though she knew the episode of Kalingasená, the queen was not angry, being desirous of knowing the cause, said to her; "Do you know, queen, that a princess named Kalingasená has come here to choose me for her husband?" The moment she heard it, she answered, without changing the hue of her countenance, "I know it; I am exceedingly delighted, for in her the goddess of Fortune has come to our house; for by gaining her you will also get her father Kalingadatta under your influence, and the earth will be more completely in your power. Now I am delighted on account of his great power and your pleasure, and long ago did I know this circumstance with regard to you. So am I not fortunate, since I have such a husband as you, whom princesses fall in love with, that are themselves sought by other kings?" When thus addressed by queen Vásavadattá, who had been previously tutored by Yaugandharáyana, the king rejoiced in his heart. And after enjoying a drinking-bout with her, he slept that night in her apartments, and waking up in the morning he reflected--"What, does the magnanimous queen obey me so implicitly as even to acquiesce in having Kalingasená for a rival? But how could this same proud woman endure her, since it was owing to the special favour of destiny that she did not yield her breath, even when I married Padmávatí? So, if anything were to happen to her, it would be utter ruin; upon her hang the lives of my son, my brother-in-law, my father-in-law, and Padmávatí, and the welfare of the kingdom; what higher tribute can I pay her? So how can I marry that Kalingasená?" Thus reflecting the king of Vatsa left her chamber at the close of night, and the next day went to the palace of queen Padmávatí. She too, having been taught her lesson by Vásavadattá, shewed him attentions after the very same fashion, and when questioned by him, gave a similar answer. The next day the king, thinking over the sentiments and speeches of the queens, which were completely in unison, commended them to Yaugandharáyana. And the minister Yaugandharáyana, who knew how to seize the right moment, seeing that the king was plunged in doubt, spake slowly to him as follows--"I know well, the matter does not end where you think, there is a terrible resolve here. For the queens spoke thus, because they are steadfastly bent on surrendering their lives. Chaste women, when their beloved is attached to another, or has gone to heaven, become careless about all enjoyments, and determined to die, though their intentions are inscrutable on account of the haughtiness of their character. For matrons cannot endure the interruption of a deep affection; and in proof of this hear now, O king, this story of Srutasena." The story of Srutasena. There lived long ago in the Dekhan, in a city called Gokarna, a king named Srutasena, who was the ornament of his race, and possessed of learning. And this king, though his prosperity was complete, had yet one source of sorrow, that he had not as yet obtained a wife who was a suitable match for him. And once on a time the king, while brooding over that sorrow, began to talk about it, and was thus addressed by a Bráhman, named Agnisarman: "I have seen two wonders, O king, I will describe them to you: listen! Having gone on a pilgrimage to all the sacred bathing-places, I reached that Panchatírthí, in which five Apsarases were reduced to the condition of crocodiles by the curse of a holy sage, and were rescued from it by Arjuna, who had come there while going round the holy spots. There I bathed in the blessed water, which possesses the power of enabling those men, who bathe in it and fast for five nights, to become followers of Náráyana. And while I was departing, I beheld a cultivator in the middle of a field, who had furrowed the earth with his plough, singing. That cultivator was asked about the road by a certain wandering hermit, who had come that way, but did not hear what he said, being wholly occupied with his song. Then the hermit was angry with that cultivator, and began to talk in a distracted manner; and the cultivator, stopping his song, said to him--'Alas! though you are a hermit, you will not learn even a fraction of virtue; even I, though a fool, have discovered what is the highest essence of virtue.' When he heard that, the hermit asked him out of curiosity--'What have you discovered?' And the cultivator answered him--'Sit here in the shade, and listen while I tell you a tale.' Story of the three Bráhman brothers. In this land there were three Bráhman brothers, Brahmadatta, Somadatta, and Visvadatta of holy deeds. Of these the two eldest possessed wives, but the youngest was unmarried; he remained as their servant without being angry, obeying their orders along with me; for I was their ploughman. And those elder brothers thought that he was soft, and devoid of intellect, good, not swerving from the right path, simple, and unenterprising. Then, once on a time, the youngest brother Visvadatta was solicited by his two brothers' wives who fell in love with him, but he rejected their advances as if each of them had been his mother. Then they both of them went and said falsely to their own husbands, "This younger brother of yours makes love to us in secret." This speech made those two elder brothers cherish anger against him in their hearts, for men bewildered by the speeches of wicked women, do not know the difference between truth and falsehood. Then those brothers said once on a time to Visvadatta--"Go and level that ant-hill in the middle of the field!" He said--"I will"--and went and proceeded to dig up the ant-hill with his spade, though I said to him, "Do not do it, a venomous snake lives there." Though he heard what I said, he continued to dig at the ant-hill, exclaiming--"Let what will happen, happen," for he would not disobey the order of his two elder brothers, though they wished him ill. Then, while he was digging it up, he got out of it a pitcher filled with gold, and not a venomous snake, for virtue is an auxiliary to the good. So he took that pitcher and gave it all to his elder brothers out of his constant affection for them, though I tried to dissuade him. But they sent assassins, hiring them with a portion of that gold, and had his hands and feet cut off, in their desire to seize his wealth. But he was free from anger, and in spite of that treatment, did not wax wroth with his brothers, and on account of that virtue of his, his hands and feet grew again. 'After beholding that, I renounced from that time all anger, but you, though you are a hermit, have not even now renounced anger. The man who is free from anger has gained heaven, behold now a proof of this.' After saying this, the husbandman left his body and ascended to heaven. "This is one wonder which I have seen, hear a second, O king;" After saying this to king Srutasena, the Bráhman continued, "Then, as I was roaming about on the shore of the sea to visit sacred places, I reached the realm of king Vasantasena. There, as I was about to enter an almshouse where cooked food is distributed by the king, the Bráhmans said to me,--'Bráhman, advance not in that direction, for there the king's daughter is present, she is called Vidyuddyotá, and if even a hermit beholds her, he is pierced by the arrow of love, and becoming distracted ceases to live.' Then I answered them--'This is not wonderful to me, for I continually behold king Srutasena, who is a second god of love. When he leaves his palace on an expedition, or for some other purpose, women of good family are removed by guards from any place whence they may possibly see him, for fear they should infringe chastity.' When I said this, they knew I was a subject of your Majesty's, and the superintendent of the house of entertainment and the king's chaplain took me into the presence of the king, that I might share the feast. There I saw that princess Vidyuddyotá, looking like the incarnation of the magic art with which the god of love bewilders the world. After a long time I mastered my confusion at beholding her, and reflected--'If this lady were to become the wife of our sovereign, he would forget his kingdom. Nevertheless I must tell this tale to my master, otherwise there might take place the incident of Devasena and Unmádiní.' The story of Devasena and Unmádiní. Once on a time, in the realm of king Devasena, there was a merchant's daughter, a maiden that bewildered the world with her beauty. Her father told the king about her, but the king did not take her in marriage, for the Bráhmans, who wished to prevent his neglecting his duties, told him she had inauspicious marks. So she was married to his prime minister. [494] And once on a time she showed herself to the king at a window. And the king, struck by her with a poisonous look from a distance, as if she had been a female snake, [495] fainted again and again, enjoyed no pleasure, and took no food. And the righteous king, though entreated over and over again to marry her by the ministers, with her husband at their head, refused to do so, and devoted to her, yielded up his breath. "Accordingly I have come to-day and told you this wonderful tale, thinking that if a similar distraction were to come upon you, I should be guilty of conspiring against your life." When king Srutasena heard from that Bráhman this speech, which was like the command of the god of love, he became ardently attached to Vidyuddyotá, so he immediately sent off the Bráhman and took steps to have her brought quickly and married her. Then the princess Vidyuddyotá became inseparable from the person of that king, as the daylight from the orb of the sun. Then a maiden of the name of Mátridattá, the daughter of a very rich merchant, intoxicated with the pride of her beauty, came to select that king for her husband. Through fear of committing unrighteousness, the king married that merchant's daughter; then Vidyuddyotá, coming to hear of it, died of a broken heart. And the king came and beheld that dearly loved wife lying dead, and took her up in his arms, and lamenting, died on the spot. Thereupon Mátridattá, the merchant's daughter, entered the fire. And so the whole kingdom perished with the king. "So you see, king, that the breaking off of long love is difficult to bear, especially would it be so to the proud queen Vásavadattá. Accordingly, if you were to marry this Kalingasená, the queen Vásavadattá would indubitably quit her life, and queen Padmávatí would do the same, for their life is one. And then how would your son Naraváhanadatta live? And, I know, the king's heart would not be able to bear any misfortune happening to him. And so all this happiness would perish in a moment, O king. But as for the dignified reserve, which the queens displayed in their speeches, that sufficiently shews that their hearts are indifferent to all things, being firmly resolved on suicide. So you must guard your own interests, for even animals understand self-protection, much more wise men like yourself, O king." The king of Vatsa, when he heard this at length from the excellent minister Yaugandharáyana, having now become quite capable of wise discrimination, said--"It is so; there can be no doubt about it; all this fabric of my happiness would be overthrown. So what is the use of my marrying Kalingasená? Accordingly the astrologers did well in mentioning a distant hour as auspicious for the marriage: and there cannot after all be much sin in abandoning one who had come to select me as her husband." When Yaugandharáyana heard this, he reflected with joy, "Our business has almost turned out according to our wishes. Will not that same great plant of policy, watered with the streams of expedient, and nourished with due time and place, truly bring forth fruit?" Thus reflecting, and meditating upon fitting time and place, the minister Yaugandharáyana went to his house, after taking a ceremonious farewell of the king. The king too went to the queen Vásavadattá, who had assumed to welcome him a manner which concealed her real feelings, and thus spoke to her to console her: "Why do I speak? you know well, O gazelle-eyed one, that your love is my life, even as the water is of the lotus. Could I bear even to mention the name of another woman? But Kalingasená came to my house of her own impetuous motion. And this is well known, that Rambhá, who came to visit Arjuna of her own impetuous will, having been rejected by him, as he was engaged in austerities, inflicted on him a curse which made him a eunuch. That curse was endured by him to the end, living in the house of the king of Viráta in the garb of a eunuch, though he displayed miraculous valour. So I did not reject this Kalingasená when she came, but I cannot bring myself to do anything without your wish." Having comforted her in these words, and having perceived by the flush of wine which rose to her cheek, as if it were her glowing passionate heart, that her cruel design was a reality, the king of Vatsa spent that night with the queen Vásavadattá, delighted at the transcendent ability of his prime minister. And in the meanwhile that Bráhman-Rákshasa, named Yogesvara, who was a friend of Yaugandharáyana, and whom he had commissioned beforehand to watch day and night the proceedings of Kalingasená, came that very night of his own accord and said to the prime minister: "I remain ever at Kalingasená's house, either without it or within it, and I have never seen man or god come there. But to-day I suddenly heard an indistinct noise in the air, at the commencement of the night, as I was lying hid near the roof of the palace. Then my magic science was set in motion to ascertain the cause of the sound, but prevailed not; so I pondered over it, and came to this conclusion: 'This must certainly be the voice of some being of divine power, enamoured of Kalingasená, who is roaming in the sky. Since my science does not succeed, I must look for some opening, for clever people who remain vigilant, find little difficulty in discovering holes in their opponents' armour. And I know that the prime minister said--"Divine beings are in love with her"--moreover I overheard her friend Somaprabhá saying the same. After arriving at this conclusion I came here to make my report to you. This I have to ask you by the way, so tell me so much I pray you. By my magic power I heard, without being seen, what you said to the king, 'Even animals understand self-protection.' Now tell me, sagacious man, if there is any instance of this."--When Yogesvara asked him this question, Yaugandharáyana answered. "There is, my friend, and to prove it, I will tell you this tale. Listen!" The tale of the ichneumon, the owl, the cat, and the mouse. Once on a time there was a large banyan tree outside the city of Vidisá. In that vast tree dwelt four creatures, an ichneumon, an owl, a cat, and a mouse, [496] and their habitations were apart. The ichneumon and the mouse dwelt in separate holes in the root, the cat in a great hollow in the middle of the tree: but the owl dwelt in a bower of creepers on the top of it, which was inaccessible to the others. Among these the mouse was the natural prey of all three, three out of the four of the cat. The mouse, the ichneumon, and the owl ranged for food during the night, the two first through fear of the cat only, the owl partly because it was his nature to do so. But the cat fearlessly wandered night and day through the neighbouring barley-field, in order to catch the mouse, while the others went there by stealth at a suitable time out of desire for food. One day a certain hunter of the Chandála caste came there. He saw the track of the cat entering that field, and having set nooses all round the field in order to compass its death, departed. So the cat came there at night to slay the mouse, and entering the field was caught in one of the hunter's nooses. The mouse, for his part, came there secretly in search of food, and seeing the cat caught in the noose, danced for joy. While it was entering the field, the owl and ichneumon came from afar by the same path, and seeing the cat fast in the noose, desired to capture the mouse. And the mouse, beholding them afar off, was terrified and reflected--"If I fly to the cat, which the owl and the ichneumon are afraid of, that enemy, though fast in the noose, may slay me with one blow, but if I keep at a distance from the cat, the owl and the ichneumon will be the death of me. So being compassed about with enemies, where shall I go, what shall I do? Ah! I will take refuge with the cat here, for it is in trouble, and may save me to preserve its own life, as I shall be of use to gnaw through the noose." Thus reflecting the mouse slowly approached the cat, and said to it, "I am exceedingly grieved at your being caught, so I will gnaw through your noose; the upright come to love even their enemies by dwelling in their neighbourhood. But I do not feel confidence in you, as I do not know your intentions." When the cat heard that, he said "Worthy mouse, be at rest, from this day forth you are my friend as giving me life." The moment he heard this from the cat, he crept into his bosom; when the owl and ichneumon saw that, they went away hopeless. Then the cat, galled with the noose, said to the mouse, "My friend, the night is almost gone, so quickly gnaw through my bonds." The mouse for its part, waiting for the arrival of the hunter, slowly nibbled the noose, and protracted the business, making a continual munching with its teeth, which was all pretence. Soon the night came to an end, and the hunter came near; then the mouse, at the request of the cat, quickly gnawed through the noose which held it. So the cat's noose was severed, and it ran away, afraid of the hunter; and the mouse, delivered from death, fled into its hole. But when called again by the cat, it reposed no confidence in him, but remarked, "The truth is, an enemy is occasionally made a friend by circumstances, but does not remain such for ever." "Thus the mouse, though an animal, saved its life from many foes, much more ought the same thing to take place among men. You heard that speech which I uttered to the king on that occasion, to the effect that by wisdom he should guard his own interests by preserving the life of the queen. And wisdom is in every exigency the best friend, not valour, Yogesvara; in illustration of this hear the following story." The story of king Prasenajit and the Bráhman who lost his treasure. There is a city named Srávastí, and in it there lived in old time a king of the name of Prasenajit, and one day a strange Bráhman arrived in that city. A merchant, thinking he was virtuous, because he lived on rice in the husk, provided him a lodging there in the house of a Bráhman. There he was loaded by him every day with presents of unhusked rice and other gifts, and gradually by other great merchants also, who came to hear his story. In this way the miserly fellow gradually accumulated a thousand dínárs, and, going to the forest, he dug a hole and buried it in the ground, [497] and he went every day and examined the spot. Now one day he saw that the hole, in which he had hidden his gold, had been re-opened, and that all the gold had gone. When he saw that hole empty, his soul was smitten, and not only was there a void in his heart, but the whole universe seemed to him to be void also. And then he came crying to the Bráhman, in whose house he lived, and when questioned, he told him his whole story: and he made up his mind to go to a holy bathing-place, and starve himself to death. Then the merchant, who supplied him with food, hearing of it, came there with others, and said to him, "Bráhman, why do you long to die for the loss of your wealth? Wealth, like an unseasonable cloud, suddenly comes and goes." Though plied by him with these and similar arguments, he would not abandon his fixed determination to commit suicide, for wealth is dearer to the miser than life itself. But when the Bráhman was going to the holy place to commit suicide, the king Prasenajit himself, having heard of it, came to him and asked him, "Bráhman, do you know of any mark by which you can recognize the place where you buried your dínárs?" When the Bráhman heard that, he said: "There is a small tree in the wood there, I buried that wealth at its foot." When the king heard that, he said, "I will find that wealth and give it back to you, or I will give it you from my own treasury, do not commit suicide, Bráhman." After saying this, and so diverting the Bráhman from his intention of committing suicide, the king entrusted him to the care of the merchant, and retired to his palace. There he pretended to have a headache, and sending out the door-keeper, he summoned all the physicians in the city by proclamation with beat of drum. And he took aside every single one of them and questioned him privately in the following words: "What patients have you here, and how many, and what medicine have you prescribed for each?" And they thereupon, one by one, answered all the king's questions. Then one among the physicians, when his turn came to be questioned, said this, "The merchant Mátridatta has been out of sorts, O king, and this is the second day, that I have prescribed for him nágabalá. [498] When the king heard that, he sent for the merchant, and said to him--"Tell me, who fetched you the nágabalá?" The merchant said--"My servant, your highness." When the king got this answer from the merchant, he quickly summoned the servant and said to him--"Give up that treasure belonging to a Bráhman, consisting of a store of dínárs, which you found when you were digging at the foot of a tree for nágabalá." When the king said this to him, the servant was frightened and confessed immediately, and bringing those dínárs left them there. So the king for his part summoned the Bráhman and gave him, who had been fasting in the meanwhile, his dínárs, lost and found again, like a second soul external to his body. "Thus that king by his wisdom recovered for the Bráhman his wealth, which had been taken away from the root of the tree, knowing that that simple grew in such spots. So true is it, that intellect always obtains the supremacy, triumphing over valour, indeed in such cases what could courage accomplish? Accordingly, Yogesvara, you ought to bring it to pass by your wisdom, that some peccadillo be discovered in Kalingasená. And it is true that the gods and Asuras are in love with her. This explains your hearing at night the sound of some being in the air. And if we could only obtain some pretext, calamity would fall upon her, not on us; the king would not marry her, and yet we should not have dealt unrighteously with her." When the Bráhman-Rákshasa Yogesvara heard all this from the sagacious Yaugandharáyana, he was delighted and said to him--"Who except the god Vrihaspati can match thee in policy? This counsel of thine waters with ambrosia the tree of empire. I, even I, will investigate with wisdom and might the proceedings of Kalingasená." Having said this, Yogesvara departed thence. And at this time Kalingasená, while in her palace, was continually afflicted by beholding the king of Vatsa roaming about in his palace and its grounds. Thinking on him, she was inflamed with love, and though she wore a bracelet and necklace of lotus fibres, she never obtained relief thereby, nor from sandal-ointment, or other remedies. In the meanwhile the king of the Vidyádharas, named Madanavega, who had seen her before, remained wounded by the arrow of ardent love. Though he had performed a vow to obtain her, and had been granted a boon by Siva, still she was not easy to gain, because she was living in the land of another, and attached to another, so the Vidyádhara prince was wandering about at night in the air over her palace, in order to obtain an opportunity. But, remembering the order of Siva pleased with his asceticism, he assumed one night by his skill the form of the king of Vatsa. And in his shape he entered her palace, saluted with praises by the door-keepers, who said--"Unable to bear delay, the king has come here without the knowledge of his ministers." And Kalingasená, on beholding him, rose up bewildered with agitation, though she was, so to speak, warned by her ornaments which jingled out the sounds--"This is not the man." Then she by degrees gained confidence in him, and Madanavega, wearing the form of the king of Vatsa, made her his wife by the Gándharva rite. At that moment Yogesvara entered, invisible by his magic, and, beholding the incident, was cast down, supposing that he saw the king of Vatsa before him. He went and told Yaugandharáyana, who, on receiving his report, saw by his skill that the king was in the society of Vásavadattá. So by the order of the prime minister he returned delighted, to observe the shape of that secret paramour of Kalingasená, when asleep. And so he went and beheld that Madanavega asleep in his own form on the bed of the sleeping Kalingasená, a heavenly being, the dustless lotus of whose foot was marked with the umbrella and the banner; and who had lost his power of changing his form, because his science was suspended during sleep. Then Yogesvara, full of delight, went and told what he had seen in a joyful mood to Yaugandharáyana. He said--"One like me knows nothing, you know everything by the eye of policy; by your counsel this difficult result has been attained for your king. What is the sky without the sun? What is a tank without water? What is a realm without counsel? What is speech without truth?" When Yogesvara said this, Yaugandharáyana took leave of him, much pleased, and went in the morning to visit the king of Vatsa. He approached him with the usual reverence, and in course of conversation said to the king, who asked him what was to be done about Kalingasená--"She is unchaste, O king, and does not deserve to touch your hand. For she went of her own accord to visit Prasenajit. When she saw that he was old, she was disgusted, and came to visit you out of desire for your beauty, and now she even enjoys at her pleasure the society of another person." When the king heard this, he said--"How could a lady of birth and rank do such a deed? Or who has power to enter my harem?" When the king said this, the wise Yaugandharáyana answered him, "I will prove it to you by ocular testimony this very night, my sovereign. For the divine Siddhas and other beings of the kind are in love with her. What can a man do against them? And who here can interfere with the movements of gods? So come and see it with your own eyes." When the minister said this, the king determined to go there with him at night. Then Yaugandharáyana came to the queen, and said--"To-day, O queen, I have carried out what I promised, that the king should marry no other wife except queen Padmávatí, and thereupon he told her the whole story of Kalingasená. And the queen Vásavadattá congratulated him, bowing low and saying--"This is the fruit which I have reaped from following your instructions." Then, at night, when folk were asleep, the king of Vatsa went with Yaugandharáyana to the palace of Kalingasená. And entering unperceived, he beheld Madanavega in his proper form, sleeping by the side of the sleeping Kalingasená. And when the king was minded to slay that audacious one, the Vidyádhara prince was roused by his own magic knowledge, and when awake, he went out, and immediately flew up into the heaven. And then Kalingasená awoke immediately. And seeing the bed empty, she said, "How is this, that the king of Vatsa wakes up before me, and departs, leaving me asleep?" When Yaugandharáyana heard that, he said to the king of Vatsa--"Listen, she has been beguiled by that Vidyádhara wearing your form. He was found out by me by means of my magic power, and now I have exhibited him before your eyes, but you cannot kill him on account of his heavenly might." After saying this, he and the king approached her, and Kalingasená, for her part, seeing them, stood in a respectful attitude. But when she began to say to the king--"Where, O king, did you go only a moment ago, so as to return with your minister?"--Yaugandharáyana said to her--"Kalingasená, you have been married by some being, who beguiled you by assuming the shape of the king of Vatsa, and not by this lord of mine." When Kalingasená heard this, she was bewildered, and as if pierced through the heart by an arrow, she said to the king of Vatsa with tear-streaming eyes,--"Have you forgotten me, O king, after marrying me by the Gándharva rite, as Sakuntalá long ago was forgotten by Dushyanta?" [499] When the king was thus addressed by her, he said with downcast face, "In truth you were not married by me, for I never came here till this moment." When the king of Vatsa had said this, the minister said to him--"Come along"--and conducted him at will to the palace. When the king had departed thence with his minister, that lady Kalingasená, sojourning in a foreign country, like a doe that had strayed from the herd, having deserted her relations, with her face robbed of its painting by kissing, as a lotus is robbed of its leaves by cropping, having her braided tresses disordered, even as a bed of lotuses trampled by an elephant has its cluster of black bees dispersed; now that her maidenhood was gone for ever, not knowing what expedient to adopt or what course to pursue, looked up to heaven and spake as follows--"Whoever that was that assumed the shape of the king of Vatsa and married me, let him appear, for he is the husband of my youth." When invoked in these words, that king of the Vidyádharas descended from heaven, of divine shape, adorned with necklace and bracelet. And when she asked him who he was, he answered her;--"I, fair one, am a prince of the Vidyádharas, named Madanavega. And long ago I beheld you in your father's house, and by performing penance obtained a boon from Siva, which conferred on me the attainment of you. So, as you were in love with the king of Vatsa, I assumed his form, and quickly married you by stealth, before your contract with him had been celebrated." By the nectar of this speech of his, entering her ears, the lotus of her heart was a little revived. Then Madanavega comforted that fair one, and made her recover her composure, and bestowed on her a heap of gold, and when she had conceived in her heart affection for her excellent husband, as being well suited to her, he flew up into the heaven to return again. And Kalingasená, after obtaining permission from Madanavega, consented to dwell patiently where she was, reflecting that the heavenly home, the abode of her husband, could not be approached by a mortal, and that through passion she had left her father's house. CHAPTER XXXIV. Then the king of Vatsa, thinking on the peerless beauty of Kalingasená, was one night seized with love, so he rose up and went sword in hand, and entered her palace alone; and she welcomed him and received him politely. Then the king asked her to become his wife, but she rejected his addresses, saying, "You should regard me as the wife of another." Whereupon he answered--"Since you are unchaste as having resorted to three men, I shall not by approaching you incur the guilt of adultery." When the king said this to Kalingasená, she answered him, "I came to marry you, O king, but I was married by the Vidyádhara Madanavega at his will, for he assumed your shape. And he is my only husband, so why am I unchaste? But such are the misfortunes even of ordinary women who desert their relations, having their minds bewildered with the love of lawless roaming, much more of princesses? And this is the fruit of my own folly in sending a messenger to you, though I had been warned not to do so by my friend, who had seen an evil omen. So if you touch me by force, I will abandon life, for what woman of good family will injure her husband? And to prove this I will tell you a tale--listen O king." The story of king Indradatta. There lived in old time in the land of Chedi a great king called Indradatta, he founded for his glory a great temple at the holy bathing-place of Pápasodhana, desiring the body of good reputation, as he saw that our mortal body is perishable. And the king in the ardour of his devotion was continually going to visit it, and all kinds of people were continually coming there to bathe in the holy water. Now, one day the king saw a merchant's wife, whose husband was travelling in foreign parts, who had come there to bathe in the holy water; she was steeped in the nectar of pure beauty, and adorned with various charms, like a splendid moving palace of the god of Love. She was embraced on both her feet by the radiance of the two quivers of the five-arrowed god, [500] as if out of love, believing that with her he would conquer the world. [501] The moment the king saw her, she captivated his soul so entirely that, unable to restrain himself, he found out her house and went there at night. And when he solicited her, she said to him--"You are a protector of the helpless, you ought not to touch another man's wife. And if you lay violent hands on me, you will commit a great sin; and I will die immediately, I will not endure disgrace." Though she said this to him, the king still endeavoured to use force to her, whereupon her heart broke in a moment through fear of losing her chastity. When the king saw that, he was at once abashed, and went back by the way that he came, and in a few days died out of remorse for that crime. Having told this tale, Kalingasená bowed in timid modesty, and again said to the king of Vatsa--"Therefore, king, set not your heart on wickedness that would rob me of breath; since I have come here, allow me to dwell here; if not, I will depart to some other place." Then the king of Vatsa, who knew what was right, hearing this from Kalingasená, after reflecting, desisted from his intention, and said to her--"Princess, dwell here at will with this husband of yours; I will not say anything to you, henceforth fear not." When the king had said this, he returned of his own accord to his house, and Madanavega, having heard the conversation, descended from heaven, and said--"My beloved, you have done well, if you had not acted thus, O fortunate one, good fortune would not have resulted, for I should not have tolerated your conduct." When the Vidyádhara had said this, he comforted her, and passed the night there, and continued going to her house and returning again. And Kalingasená, having a king of the Vidyádharas for her husband, remained there, blessed even in her mortal state with the enjoyment of heavenly pleasures. As for the king of Vatsa, he ceased to think about her, and remembering the speech of his minister, he rejoiced, considering that he had saved his queens and kingdom and also his son. And the queen Vásavadattá and the minister Yaugandharáyana were at ease, having reaped the fruit of the wishing-tree of policy. Then, as days went on, Kalingasená had the lotus of her face a little pale, and was pregnant, having longing produced in her. Her lofty breasts, with extremities a little dark, appeared like the treasure-vessels of Love, marked with his seal of joy. [502] Then her husband Madanavega came to her and said, "Kalingasená, we heavenly beings are subject to this law, that, when a mortal child is conceived we must abandon it, and go afar. Did not Menaká leave Sakuntalá in the hermitage of Kanva? And though you were formerly an Apsaras, you have now, goddess, become a mortal by the curse of Siva, inflicted on account of your disobedience. Thus it has come to pass that, though chaste, you have incurred the reproach of unchastity; so guard your offspring, I will go to my own place. And whenever you think upon me, I will appear to you." Thus the prince of the Vidyádharas spake to the weeping Kalingasená, and consoled her, and gave her a heap of valuable jewels, and departed with his mind fixed on her, drawn away by the law. Kalingasená, for her part, remained there; supported by the hope of offspring as by a friend, protected by the shade of the king of Vatsa's arm. In the meanwhile the husband of Ambiká [503] gave the following order to Rati, the wife of the god of Love, who had performed penance in order to get back her husband with his body restored: "That husband of thine who was formerly consumed, has been born in the palace of the king of Vatsa, under the name of Naraváhanadatta, conceived in a mortal womb on account of disrespect shewn to me. But because thou hast propitiated me, thou shalt also be born in the world of mortals, without being conceived in a mortal womb; and then thou shalt be reunited to thy husband, once more possessing a body." Having said this to Rati, Siva then gave this command to the Creator; [504] "Kalingasená shall give birth to a son of divine origin. By thy power of illusion thou shalt remove her son, and substitute in his place this very Rati, who shall abandon her heavenly body, and be moulded by thee in the form of a mortal maiden." The Creator, in obedience to the order of Siva, [505] went down to earth, and when the appointed time came, Kalingasená gave birth to a son. The Creator abstracted, by his divine power of illusion, her son, the moment he was born, and substituted Rati, whom he had turned into a girl, in his place, without the change being detected. And all present there saw that girl born, and she seemed like the streak of the new moon suddenly rising in broad daylight, for she illuminated with her splendour the lying-in chamber, and eclipsing the long row of flames of the jewel-lamps [506] robbed them of lustre, and made them, as it were, abashed. Kalingasená, when she saw that incomparable daughter born, in her delight made greater rejoicing, than she would have made at the birth of a son. Then the king of Vatsa, with his queen and his ministers, heard that such a lovely daughter had been born to Kalingasená. And when the king heard of it, he suddenly, under the impulsion of the god Siva, said to the queen Vásavadattá, in the presence of Yaugandharáyana; "I know, this Kalingasená is a heavenly nymph, who has fallen down to earth in consequence of a curse, and this daughter born to her will also be heavenly, and of wonderful beauty. So this girl, being equal in beauty to my son Naraváhanadatta, ought to be his head-queen." When the queen Vásavadattá heard that, she said to the king--"Great king, why do you suddenly say this now? What similarity can there possibly be between this son of yours, of pure descent by both lines, and the daughter of Kalingasená, a girl whose mother is unchaste." When the king heard that, he reflected, and said, "Truly, I do not say this of myself, but some god seems to have entered into me, and to be forcing me to speak. And I seem to hear a voice uttering these words from heaven--'This daughter of Kalingasená is the appointed wife of Naraváhanadatta.' Moreover, that Kalingasená is a faithful wife, of good family; and her reproach of unchastity has arisen from the influence of her actions in a former birth." When the king had said this, the minister Yaugandharáyana spoke--"We hear, king, that when the god of Love was consumed, Rati performed asceticism. And Siva granted to Rati, who wished to recover her husband, the following boon: 'Thou shalt assume the condition of a mortal, and be reunited to thy husband, who has been born with a body in the world of mortals.' Now, your son has long ago been declared by a heavenly voice to be an incarnation of Káma, and Rati by the order of Siva has to become incarnate in mortal form. And the midwife said to me to-day--'I inspected previously the fetus when contained in the uterus, and then I saw one quite different from what has now appeared. Having beheld this marvel I have come here to tell you.' This is what that woman told me, and now this inspiration has come to you. So I am persuaded that the gods have stolen the real child of Kalingasená and substituted this daughter not born in the ordinary way, who is no other than Rati, ordained beforehand to be the wife of your son, who is an incarnation of Káma, O king. To illustrate this, hear the following story concerning a Yaksha." Story of the Yaksha Virúpáksha. The god of wealth had for servant a Yaksha, named Virúpáksha, who had been appointed chief guardian of lacs of treasure. [507] And he delegated a certain Yaksha to guard a treasure lying outside the town of Mathurá, posted there like an immovable pillar of marble. And once on a time a certain Bráhman, a votary of Pasupati, who made it his business to exhume treasures, went there in search of hidden wealth. While he was examining that place, with a candle made of human fat in his hand, the candle fell from his grasp. By that sign he knew that treasure was concealed there; and he attempted to dig it up with the help of some other Bráhmans his friends. Then the Yaksha, who was told off to guard that treasure, beholding that, came and related the whole circumstance to Virúpáksha. And Virúpáksha in his wrath gave the following command to the Yaksha--"Go and slay immediately those mean treasure-hunters." Then the Yaksha went and slew by his power those Bráhmans, who were digging for treasure, before they had attained their object. Then the god of wealth came to hear of it, and being angry he said to Virúpáksha, "Why did you, evil one, recklessly order the slaughter of a Bráhman? What will not poor people, who are struggling for a livelihood, [508] do out of desire for gain? But they must be prevented by being terrified with various bug-bears, they must not be slain." When the god of Wealth had said this, he cursed that Virúpáksha as follows--"Be born as a mortal on account of your wicked conduct." Then that Virúpáksha, smitten with the curse, was born on the earth as the son of a certain Bráhman who lived on a royal grant. Then the Yakshiní his wife implored the lord of wealth, "O god, send me whither my husband has gone; be merciful to me, for I cannot live without him." When the virtuous lady addressed this prayer to him, Vaisravana said--"Thou shalt descend, without being born, into the house of a female slave of that very Bráhman, in whose house thy husband is born. There thou shalt be united to that husband of thine, and by thy power he shall surmount his curse and return to my service." In accordance with this decree of Vaisravana, that virtuous wife became a mortal maiden, and fell at the door of that Bráhman's female slave's house. And the slave suddenly saw that maiden of marvellous beauty, and took her and exhibited her to her master the Bráhman. And the Bráhman rejoiced, and said to the female slave--"This is without doubt some heavenly maiden not born in the ordinary way; so my soul tells me. Bring here this girl who has entered your house, for, I think, she deserves to be my son's wife." Then in course of time that girl and the son of the Bráhman, having grown up, were smitten with ardent reciprocal affection at the sight of one another. Then they were married by the Bráhman; and the couple, though they did not remember their previous births, felt as if a long separation had been brought to an end. Then at last the Yaksha died, and as his wife burnt herself with his mortal body, his sins were wiped away by her sufferings, and he regained his former rank. "Thus, you see, heavenly beings, on account of certain causes, descend from heaven to the earth, by the appointment of fate, and, because they are free from sin, they are not born in the usual way. What does this girl's family matter to you? So this daughter of Kalingasená is, as I said, the wife appointed for your son by destiny." When Yaugandharáyana had said this to the king of Vatsa and the queen Vásavadattá, they both consented in their hearts that it should be so. Then the prime minister returned to his house, and the king, in the company of his wife, spent the day happily, in drinking and other enjoyments. Then, as time went on, that daughter of Kalingasená, who had lost her recollection of her former state through illusion, gradually grew up, and her dower of beauty grew with her; and her mother and her attendants gave her the name of Madanamanchuká, because she was the daughter of Madanavega, saying, "Surely the beauty of all other lovely women has fled to her; else how could they have become ugly before her?" And the queen Vásavadattá, hearing she was beautiful, one day had her brought into her presence out of curiosity. Then the king and Yaugandharáyana and his fellows beheld her clinging to the face of her nurse, as the candle-flame clings to the wick. And there was no one present, who did not think that she was an incarnation of Rati, when they beheld her matchless body, which was like nectar to their eyes. And then the queen Vásavadattá brought there her son Naraváhanadatta, who was a feast to the eyes of the world. He beheld, with the lotus of his face expanded, the gleaming Madanamanchuká, as the bed of water-lilies beholds the young splendour of the sun. The girl gazed with dilated countenance upon that gladdener of the eyes, and could not gaze enough, as the female partridge can never be sated with gazing on the moon. Henceforth these two children could not remain apart even for a moment, being, as it were, fastened together with the nooses of glances. But, in course of time, the king of Vatsa came to the conclusion that that marriage was made in heaven, [509] and turned his mind to the solemnization of the nuptials. When Kalingasená heard that, she rejoiced, and fixed her affection upon Naraváhanadatta out of love for her daughter's future husband. And then the king of Vatsa, after deliberating with his ministers, had made for his son a separate palace like his own. Then that king, who could discern times and seasons, collected the necessary utensils, and anointed his son as crown-prince, since it was apparent that he possessed all praiseworthy qualities. First there fell on his head the water of his father's tears, and then the water of holy bathing-places, purified by Vaidik spells of mickle might. When the lotus of his face was washed with the water of inauguration, wonderful to say, the faces of the cardinal points became also clear. When his mothers threw on him the flowers of the auspicious garlands, the heaven immediately shed a rain of many celestial wreaths. As if in emulation of the thunder of the drums of the gods, the echoes of the sound of the cymbals of rejoicing floated in the air. Every one there bowed before him, as soon as he was inaugurated as crown-prince; then by that alone he was exalted, without his own power. Then the king of Vatsa summoned the good sons of the ministers, who were the playfellows of his son, and appointed them to their offices as servants to the crown-prince. He appointed to the office of prime minister Marubhúti the son of Yaugandharáyana, and then Harisikha the son of Rumanvat to the office of commander-in-chief, and he appointed Tapantaka the son of Vasantaka as the companion of his lighter hours, and Gomukha the son of Ityaka to the duty of chamberlain and warder, and to the office of domestic chaplains the two sons of Pingaliká, Vaisvánara and Sántisoma, the nephews of the king's family priest. When these men had been appointed by the king servants to his son, there was heard from heaven a voice preceded by a rain of flowers: "These ministers shall accomplish all things prosperously for the prince, and Gomukha shall be his inseparable companion." When the heavenly voice had said this, the delighted king of Vatsa honoured them all with clothes and ornaments; and while that king was showering wealth upon his dependents, none of them could claim the title of poor on account of the accumulation of riches. And the city was filled with dancing girls and minstrels, who seemed to be invited by the rows of silken streamers fanned and agitated by the wind. Then Kalingasená came to the feast of her future son-in-law, looking like the Fortune of the Vidyádhara race which was to attend him, present in bodily form. Then Vásavadattá and Padmávatí and she danced, all three of them, for joy, like the three powers [510] of a king united together. And all the trees there seemed to dance, as their creepers waved in the wind, much more did the creatures possessing sense. Then the crown-prince Naraváhanadatta, having been inaugurated in his office, ascended an elephant of victory, and went forth. And he was sprinkled by the city wives with their upcast eyes, blue, white and red, resembling offerings of blue lotuses, parched grain and water-lilies. And after visiting the gods worshipped in that city, being praised by heralds and minstrels, he entered his palace with his ministers. Then Kalingasená gave him, to begin with, celestial viands and drinks far exceeding what his own magnificence could supply, and she presented to him and his ministers, friends and servants, beautiful robes and heavenly ornaments, for she was overpowered with love for her son-in-law. So the day passed in high festivity for all these, the king of Vatsa and the others, charming as the taste of nectar. Then the night arrived, and Kalingasená pondering over her daughter's marriage, called to mind her friend Somaprabhá. No sooner had she called to mind the daughter of the Asura Maya, than her husband, the much-knowing Nadakúvara, thus addressed that noble lady, his wife--"Dear one, Kalingasená is now thinking on thee with longing, therefore go and make a heavenly garden for her daughter." Having said this, and revealed the future and the past history of that maiden, her husband dismissed that instant his wife Somaprabhá. And when she arrived, her friend Kalingasená threw her arms around her neck, having missed her so long, and Somaprabhá, after asking after her health, said to her--"You have been married by a Vidyádhara of great power, and your daughter is an incarnation of Rati by the favour of Siva, and she has been brought into the world as the wife, in a previous state of existence, of an incarnation of Love, that has taken his birth from the king of Vatsa. He shall be emperor of the Vidyádharas for a kalpa of the gods; and she shall be honoured above his other wives. But you have descended into this world, being an Apsaras degraded by the curse of Indra, and after you have brought your duties to completion, you shall obtain deliverance from your curse. All this was told me, my friend, by my wise husband, so you must not be anxious; you will enjoy every prosperity. And I will now make here for your daughter a heavenly garden, the like of which does not exist on earth, in heaven, or in the nether regions." Having said this, Somaprabhá made a heavenly garden by her magic power, and taking leave of the regretful Kalingasená, she departed. Then, at the dawn of day, people beheld that garden, looking like the garden of Nandana suddenly fallen down from heaven to earth. Then the king of Vatsa heard of it, and came there with his wives and his ministers, and Naraváhanadatta with his companions. And they beheld that garden, the trees of which bore both flowers and fruits all the year round, [511] with many jewelled pillars, walls, lawns, and tanks; with birds of the colour of gold, with heavenly perfumed breezes, like a second Svarga descended to earth from the region of the gods. The lord of Vatsa, when he saw that wonderful sight, asked Kalingasená, who was intent on hospitality, what it was. And she thus answered the king in the hearing of all: "There is a great Asura, Maya by name, an incarnation of Visvakarman, who made the assembly-hall of Yudhishthira, and the city of Indra: he has a daughter, Somaprabhá by name, who is a friend of mine. She came here at night to visit me, and out of love made this heavenly garden by her magic power, for the sake of my daughter." After saying this, she told all the past and future fortunes of her daughter, which Somaprabhá had revealed to her, letting the king know that she had heard them from her friend. Then all there, perceiving that the speech of Kalingasená tallied with what they previously knew, dismissed their doubts and were exceedingly delighted. And the king of Vatsa, with his wives and his son, spent that day in the garden, being hospitably entertained by Kalingasená. The next day, the king went to visit a god in a temple, and he saw many women well-clothed and with beautiful ornaments. And when he asked them who they were, they said to him--"We are the sciences, and these are the accomplishments; and we are come here on account of your son: we shall now go and enter into him." Having said this they disappeared, and the king of Vatsa entered his house astonished. There he told it to the queen Vásavadattá and to the circle of his ministers, and they rejoiced at that favour of the deity. Then Vásavadattá, by the direction of the king, took up a lyre as soon as Naraváhanadatta entered the room. And while his mother was playing, Naraváhanadatta said modestly to her, "This lyre is out of tune." His father said, "Take it, and play on it," whereupon he played upon the lyre so as to astonish even the Gandharvas. When he was thus tested by his father in all the sciences and the accomplishments, he became endowed with them all, and of himself knew all knowledge. When the king of Vatsa beheld his son endowed with all talents, he taught Madanamanchuká, the daughter of Kalingasená, dancing. As fast as she became perfect in accomplishments, [512] the heart of the prince Naraváhanadatta was disturbed. So the sea is disturbed, as fast as the orb of the moon rounds off its digits. And he delighted in beholding her singing and dancing, accomplished in all the gestures of the body, so that she seemed to be reciting the decrees of Love. As for her, if she did not see for a moment that nectar-like lover, the tears rose to her eyes, and she was like a bed of white lotuses, wet with dew at the hour of dawn. [513] And Naraváhanadatta, being unable to live without continually beholding her face, came to that garden of hers. There he remained, and Kalingasená out of affection did all she could to please him, bringing her daughter to him. And Gomukha, who saw into his master's heart, and wished to bring about his long stay there, used to tell various tales to Kalingasená. The king was delighted by his friend's penetrating his intentions, for seeing into one's lord's soul is the surest way of winning him. And Naraváhanadatta himself perfected Madanamanchuká in dancing and other accomplishments, giving her lessons in a concert-hall that stood in the garden, and while his beloved danced, he played on all instruments so as to put to the blush the most skilful minstrels. And he conquered also various professors that came from all quarters, and were skilful in managing elephants, horses, and chariots, in the use of hand-to-hand and missile weapons, in painting and modelling. [514] In these amusements passed during childhood the days of Naraváhanadatta, who was the chosen bridegroom of Science. Now, once on a time the prince, with his ministers, and accompanied by his beloved, went on a pilgrimage to a garden called Nágavana. There a certain merchant's wife fell in love with Gomukha, and being repulsed, tried to kill him by offering to him a poisoned drink. But Gomukha came to hear of it from the lips of her confidante, and did not take that drink, but broke out into the following denunciation of women: "Alas! the Creator first created recklessness, and then women in imitation of it; by nature nothing is too bad for them to do. Surely this being they call woman, is created of nectar and poison, for, when she is attached to one, she is nectar, and when estranged she is indeed poison. Who can see through a woman, with loving face secretly planning crime? A wicked woman is like a lotus-bed with its flowers expanded, and an alligator concealed in it. But now and then there falls from heaven, urging on a host of virtues, a good woman that brings praise to her husband, like the pure light of the sun. But another, of evil augury, attached to strangers, not free from inordinate desires, wicked, bearing the poison of aversion, [515] slays her husband like a female snake." Story of Satrughna and his wicked wife. For instance, in a certain village there was a certain man named Satrughna, and his wife was unchaste. He once saw in the evening his wife in the society of her lover, and he slew that lover of hers, when he was in the house, with the sword. And he remained at the door waiting for the night, keeping his wife inside, and at night-fall a traveller came there to ask for a lodging. He gave him refuge, and artfully carried away with his help the corpse of that adulterer at night, and went with it to the forest. And there, while he was throwing that corpse into a well, the mouth of which was overgrown with plants, his wife came behind him, and pushed him in also. "What reckless crime of this kind will not a wicked wife commit?" In these words Gomukha, though still a boy, denounced the conduct of women. Then Naraváhanadatta himself worshipped the snakes in that grove of snakes, [516] and went back to his palace with his retinue. While he was there, he desired one day to prove his ministers, Gomukha and the others, so he asked them, though he himself knew it well, for a summary of the policy of princes. They consulted among themselves, and said--"You know all things, nevertheless we will tell you this, now that you ask us," and so they proceeded to relate the cream of political science. "A king should first tame and mount the horses of the senses, and should conquer those internal foes, love, anger, avarice and delusion, and should subdue himself as a preparation for subduing other enemies, for how can a man, who has not conquered himself, being helpless, conquer others? Then he should procure ministers, who, among other good qualities, possess that of being natives of his own country, and a skilful family priest, knowing the Atharva Veda, gifted with asceticism. He should test his ministers with respect to fear, avarice, virtue and passion, by ingenious artifices, and then he should appoint them to appropriate duties, discerning their hearts. He should try their speech, when they are deliberating with one another on affairs, to see if it is truthful, or inspired by malice, spoken out of affection, or connected with selfish objects. He should be pleased with truth, but should punish untruth as it deserves, and he should continually inquire into the conduct of each of them by means of spies. Thus he should look at business with unhooded eye, and by rooting up opponents, [517] and acquiring a treasure, a force, and the other means of success, should establish himself firmly on the throne. Then, equipped with the three powers of courage, kingly authority, and counsel, he should be eager to conquer the territory of others, considering the difference between the power of himself and his foe. He should continually take counsel with advisers, who should be trusty, learned and wise, and should correct with his own intellect the policy determined on by them, in all its details. Being versed in the means of success, [518] (conciliation, bribery and the others,) he should attain for himself security, and he should then employ the six proper courses, of which alliance and war are the chief. [519] Thus a king acquires prosperity, and as long as he carefully considers his own realm and that of his rival, he is victorious but never vanquished. But an ignorant monarch, blind with passion and avarice, is plundered by wicked servants, who shew him the wrong path, and leading him astray, fling him into pits. On account of these rogues a servant of another kind is never admitted into the presence of the king, as a husbandman cannot get at a crop of rice enclosed with a palisade. For he is enslaved by those faithless servants, who penetrate into his secrets; and consequently Fortune in disgust flies from him, because he does not know the difference between man and man. Therefore a king should conquer himself, should inflict due chastisement, and know the difference of men's characters, for in this way he will acquire his subjects' love and become thereby a vessel of prosperity." Story of king Súrasena and his ministers. In old time a king named Súrasena, who relied implicitly upon his servants, was enslaved and plundered by his ministers, who had formed a coalition. Whoever was a faithful servant to the king, the ministers would not give even a straw to, though the king wished to bestow a reward upon him; but if any man was a faithful servant to them, they themselves gave him presents, and by their representations induced the king to give to him, though he was undeserving. When the king saw that, he gradually came to be aware of that coalition of rogues, and set those ministers at variance with one another by a clever artifice. When they were estranged, and the clique was broken up, and they began to inform against one another, the king ruled the realm successfully, without being deceived by others. Story of Harisinha. And there was a king named Harisinha, of ordinary power but versed in the true science of policy, who had surrounded himself with devoted and wise ministers, possessed forts, and stores of wealth; he made his subjects devoted to him and conducted himself in such a way that, though attacked by an emperor, he was not defeated. "Thus discernment and reflection are the main things in governing a kingdom; what is of more importance?" Having said this, each taking his part, Gomukha and his fellows ceased. Naraváhanadatta, approving that speech of theirs, though he knew that heroic action is to be thought upon, [520] still placed his reliance upon destiny whose power surpasses all thought. Then he rose up, and his ardour being kindled by delay, he went with them to visit his beloved Madanamanchuká; when he had reached her palace and was seated on a throne, Kalingasená, after performing the usual courtesies, said with astonishment to Gomukha, [521] "Before the prince Naraváhanadatta arrived, Madanamanchuká, being impatient, went up to the top of the palace to watch him coming, accompanied by me, and while we were there, a man descended from heaven upon it, he was of divine appearance, wore a tiara, and a sword, and said to me 'I am a king, a lord of the Vidyádharas named Mánasavega, and you are a heavenly nymph named Surabhidattá who by a curse have fallen down to earth, and this your daughter is of heavenly origin, this is known to me well. So give me this daughter of yours in marriage, for the connexion is a suitable one.' When he said this, I suddenly burst out laughing, and said to him, 'Naraváhanadatta has been appointed her husband by the gods, and he is to be the emperor of all you Vidyádharas.' When I said this to him, the Vidyádhara flew up into the sky, like a sudden streak of lightning dazzling the eyes of my daughter." When Gomukha heard that, he said, "The Vidyádharas found out that the prince was to be their future lord, from a speech in the air, by which the future birth of the prince was made known to the king in private, and they immediately desired to do him a mischief. What self-willed one would desire a mighty lord as his ruler and restrainer? For which reason Siva has made arrangements to ensure the safety of this prince, by commissioning his attendants to wait on him in actual presence. I heard this speech of Nárada's being related by my father. So it comes to pass that the Vidyádharas are now hostile to us." When Kalingasená heard this, she was terrified at the thought of what had happened to herself, and said, "Why does not the prince marry Madanamanchuká now, before she is deceived, like me, by delusion?" When Gomukha and the others heard this from Kalingasená, they said, "Do you stir up the king of Vatsa to this business." Then Naraváhanadatta, with his heart fixed on Madanamanchuká only, amused himself by looking at her in the garden all that day, with her face like a full-blown lotus, with her eyes like opening blue water-lilies, with lips lovely as the bandhúka, with breasts like clusters of mandáras, with body delicate as the sirísha, like a matchless arrow, composed of five flowers, appointed by the god of love for the conquest of the world. The next day Kalingasená went in person, and proffered her petition to the king for the marriage of her daughter. The king of Vatsa dismissed her, and summoning his ministers, said to them in the presence of the queen Vásavadattá, "Kalingasená is impatient for the marriage of her daughter: so how are we to manage it, for the people think that that excellent woman is unchaste? And we must certainly consider the people: did not Rámabhadra long ago desert queen Sítá, though she was chaste, on account of the slander of the multitude? Was not Ambá, though carried off with great effort by Bhíshma for the sake of his brother, reluctantly abandoned, because she had previously chosen another husband? In the same way this Kalingasená, after spontaneously choosing me, was married by Madanavega; for this reason the people blame her. Therefore let this Naraváhanadatta himself marry by the Gándharva ceremony her daughter, who will be a suitable wife for him." When the king of Vatsa said this, Yaugandharáyana answered, "My lord, how could Kalingasená consent to this impropriety? For I have often observed that she, as well as her daughter, is a divine being, no ordinary woman, and this was told me by my wise friend the Bráhman-Rákshasa." While they were debating with one another in this style, the voice of Siva was heard from heaven to the following effect: "The god of love, after having been consumed by the fire of my eye, has been created again in the form of Naraváhanadatta, and having been pleased with the asceticism of Rati I have created her as his wife in the form of Madanamanchuká. And dwelling with her, as his head-wife, he shall exercise supreme sovereignty over the Vidyádharas for a kalpa of the gods, after conquering his enemies by my favour." After saying this the voice ceased. When he heard this speech of the adorable Siva, the king of Vatsa, with his retinue, worshipped him, and joyfully made up his mind to celebrate the marriage of his son. Then the king congratulated his prime minister, who had before discerned the truth, and summoned the astrologers, and asked them what would be a favourable moment, and they, after being honoured with presents, told him that a favourable moment would arrive within a few days. Again those astrologers said to him--"Your son will have to endure some separation for a short season from this wife of his; this we know, O lord of Vatsa, by our own scientific foresight." Then the king proceeded to make the requisite preparations for the marriage of his son, in a style suited to his own magnificence, so that not only his own city, but the whole earth was made to tremble with the effort of it. Then, the day of marriage having arrived, Kalingasená adorned her daughter, to whom her father had sent his own heavenly ornaments, and Somaprabhá came in obedience to her husband's order. Then Madanamanchuká, adorned with a heavenly marriage thread, looked still more lovely; is not the moon truly beautiful, when accompanied by Kártika? And heavenly nymphs, by the order of Siva, sang auspicious strains in her honour: they were eclipsed by her beauty and remained hidden as if ashamed, but the sound of their songs was heard. They sang the following hymn in honour of Gaurí, blended with the minstrelsy of the matchless musicians of heaven, so as to make unequalled harmony--"Victory to thee, O daughter of the mountain, that hast mercy on thy faithful votaries, for thou hast thyself come to-day and blessed with success the asceticism of Rati." Then Naraváhanadatta, resplendent with excellent marriage-thread, entered the wedding-pavilion full of various musical instruments. And the bride and bridegroom, after accomplishing the auspicious ceremony of marriage, with intent care, so that no rite was left out, ascended the altar-platform where a fire was burning, as if ascending the pure flame of jewels on the heads of kings. If the moon and the sun were to revolve at the same time round the mountain of gold, [522] there would be an exact representation in the world of the appearance of those two, the bride and the bridegroom, when circumambulating the fire, keeping it on their right. Not only did the drums of the gods in the air drown the cymbal-clang in honour of the marriage festival, but the rain of flowers sent down by the gods overwhelmed the gilt grain thrown by the women. Then also the generous Kalingasená honoured her son-in-law with heaps of gold studded with jewels, so that the lord of Alaká was considered very poor compared with him, and much more so all miserable earthly monarchs. And then the bride and bridegroom, now that the delightful ceremony of marriage was accomplished in accordance with their long-cherished wishes, entered the inner apartments crowded with women, adorned with pure and variegated decoration, even as they penetrated the heart of the people full of pure and various loyalty. Moreover, the city of the king of Vatsa was quickly filled with kings, surrounded with splendid armies, who, though their valour was worthy of the world's admiration, had bent in submission, bringing in their hands valuable jewels by way of presents, as if with subject seas. [523] On that high day of festival, the king distributed gold with such magnificence to his dependants, that the children in their mothers' wombs were at any rate the only beings in his kingdom not made of gold. [524] Then on account of the troops of excellent minstrels and dancing girls, that came from all quarters of the world, with hymns, music, dances and songs on all sides, the world seemed full of harmony. And at that festival the city of Kausámbí seemed itself to be dancing, for the pennons agitated by the wind seemed like twining arms, and it was beautified with the toilettes of the city matrons, as if with ornaments. And thus waxing in mirth every day, that great festival continued for a long time, and all friends, relations and people generally were delighted by it, and had their wishes marvellously fulfilled. And that crown-prince Naraváhanadatta, accompanied by Madanamanchuká, enjoyed, though intent on glory, the long-desired pleasures of this world. BOOK VII. CHAPTER XXXV. May the head of Siva, studded with the nails of Gaurí engaged in playfully pulling his hair, and so appearing rich in many moons, [525] procure you prosperity. May the god of the elephant face, [526] who, stretching forth his trunk wet with streaming ichor, curved at the extremity, seems to be bestowing successes, protect you. Thus the young son of the king of Vatsa, having married in Kausámbí Madanamanchuká, whom he loved as his life, remained living as he chose, with his ministers Gomukha and others, having obtained his wish. And once on a time, when the feast of spring had arrived, adorned with the gushing notes of love-intoxicated cuckoos, in which the wind from the Malaya mountain set in motion by force the dance of the creepers,--the feast of spring delightful with the hum of bees, the prince went to the garden with his ministers to amuse himself. After roaming about there, his friend Tapantaka suddenly came with his eyes expanded with delight, and stepping up to him, said--"Prince, I have seen not far from here a wonderful maiden, who has descended from heaven and is standing under an asoka-tree, and that very maiden, who illumines the regions with her beauty, advancing towards me with her friends, sent me here to summon you." When Naraváhanadatta heard that, being eager to see her, he went quickly with his ministers to the foot of the tree. He beheld there that fair one, with her rolling eyes like bees, with her lips red like shoots, beautiful with breasts firm as clusters, having her body yellow with the dust of flowers, removing fatigue by her loveliness, [527] like the goddess of the garden appearing in a visible shape suited to her deity. And the prince approached the heavenly maiden, who bowed before him, and welcomed her, for his eyes were ravished with her beauty. Then his minister Gomukha, after all had sat down, asked her, "Who are you, auspicious one, and for what reason have you come here?" When she heard that, she laid aside her modesty in obedience to the irresistible decree of Love, and frequently stealing sidelong glances at the lotus of Naraváhanadatta's face with an eye that shed matchless affection, she began thus at length to relate her own history. Story of Ratnaprabhá. There is a mountain-chain called Himavat, famous in the three worlds; it has many peaks, but one of its peaks is the mount of Siva which is garlanded with the brightness of glittering jewels, and flashes with gleaming snow, and like the expanse of the heaven, cannot be measured. Its plateaux are the home of magic powers and of magic herbs, which dispel old age, death, and fear, and are to be obtained by the favour of Siva. With its peaks yellow with the brightness of the bodies of many Vidyádharas, it transcends the glory of the peaks of Sumeru itself, the mighty hill of the immortals. On it there is a golden city called Kánchanasringa, which gleams refulgent with brightness, like the palace of the Sun. It extends many yojanas, and in it there lives a king of the Vidyádharas named Hemaprabha, who is a firm votary of the husband of Umá. And though he has many wives, he has only one queen, whom he loves dearly, named Alankáraprabhá, as dear to him as Rohiní to the moon. With her the virtuous king used to rise up in the morning and bathe, and worship duly Siva and his wife Gaurí, and then he would descend to the world of men, and give to poor Bráhmans every day a thousand gold-pieces mixed with jewels. And then he returned from earth and attended to his kingly duties justly, and then he ate and drank, abiding by his vow like a hermit. While days elapsed in this way, melancholy arose once in the bosom of the king, caused by his childlessness, but suggested by a passing occasion. And his beloved queen Alankáraprabhá, seeing that he was in very low spirits, asked him the cause of his sadness. Then the king said to her--"I have all prosperity, but the one grief of childlessness afflicts me, O queen. And this melancholy has arisen in my breast on the occasion of calling to mind a tale, which I heard long ago, of a virtuous man who had no son." Then the queen said to him, "Of what nature was that tale?" When asked this question, the king told her the tale briefly in the following words: Story of Sattvasíla and the two treasures. In the town of Chitrakúta there was a king named Bráhmanavara, rightly named, for he was devoted to honouring Bráhmans. He had a victorious servant named Sattvasíla who devoted himself exclusively to war, and every month Sattvasíla received a hundred gold-pieces from that king. But as he was munificent, that gold was not enough for him, especially as his childlessness made the pleasure of giving the sole pleasure to which he was addicted. Sattvasíla was continually reflecting--"The Disposer has not given me a son to gladden me, but he has given me the vice of generosity, and that too without wealth. It is better to be produced in the world as an old barren tree or a stone, than as a poor man altogether abandoned to the vice of giving away money." But once on a time Sattvasíla, while wandering in a garden, happened by luck to find a treasure: and with the help of his servants he quickly brought home that hoard, which gleamed with much gold and glittered with priceless stones. Out of that he provided himself with pleasures, and gave wealth to Bráhmans, slaves, and friends, and thus the virtuous man spent his life. Meanwhile his relations, beholding this, guessed the secret, and went to the king's palace, and of their own accord informed the king that Sattvasíla had found a treasure. Then Sattvasíla was summoned by the king, and by order of the door-keeper remained standing for a moment in a lonely part of the king's courtyard. There, as he was scratching the earth with the hilt of a lílávajra, [528] that was in his hand, he found another large treasure in a copper vessel. It appeared like his own heart, displayed openly for him by Destiny pleased with his virtue, in order that he might propitiate the king with it. So he covered it up again with earth as it was before, and when summoned by the door-keeper, entered the king's presence. When he had made his bow there, the king himself said, "I have come to learn that you have obtained a treasure, so surrender it to me." And Sattvasíla for his part answered him then and there, "O king, tell me: shall I give you the first treasure I found, or the one I found to-day." The king said to him--"Give the one recently found." And thereupon Sattvasíla went to a corner of the king's courtyard, and gave him up the treasure. Then the king, being pleased with the treasure, dismissed Sattvasíla with these words--"Enjoy the first-found treasure as you please." So Sattvasíla returned to his house. There he remained increasing the propriety of his name with gifts and enjoyments, and so managing to dispel somehow or other the melancholy caused by the affliction of childlessness. "Such is the story of Sattvasíla, which I heard long ago, and because I have recalled it to mind, I remain sorrowful through thinking over the fact that I have no son." When the queen Alankáraprabhá was thus addressed by her husband Hemaprabha, the king of the Vidyádharas, she answered him, "It is true: Fortune does assist the brave in this way; did not Sattvasíla, when in difficulties, obtain a second treasure? So you too will obtain your desire by the power of your courage, as an example of the truth of this, hear the story of Vikramatunga." Story of the brave king Vikramatunga. There is a city called Pátaliputra, the ornament of the earth, filled with various beautiful jewels, the colours of which are so disposed as to form a perfect scale of colour. In that city there dwelt long ago a brave king, named Vikramatunga, who in giving [529] never turned his back on a suppliant, nor in fighting on an enemy. That king one day entered the forest to hunt, and saw there a Bráhman offering a sacrifice with vilva [530] fruits. When he saw him, he was desirous to question him, but avoided going near him, and went off to a great distance with his army in his ardour for the chase. For a long time he sported with deer and lions, that rose up and fell slain by his hand, as if with foes, and then he returned and beheld the Bráhman still intent on his sacrifice as before, and going up to him he bowed before him, and asked him his name and the advantage he hoped to derive from offering the vilva fruits. Then the Bráhman blessed the king and said to him, "I am a Bráhman named Nágasarman, and bear the fruit I hope from my sacrifice. When the god of Fire is pleased with this vilva sacrifice, then vilva fruits of gold will come out of the fire-cavity. Then the god of Fire will appear in bodily form and grant me a boon; and so I have spent much time in offering vilva fruits. But so little is my merit that even now the god of Fire is not propitiated." When he said this, that king of resolute valour answered him--"Then give me one vilva fruit that I may offer it, and I will to-day, O Bráhman, render the god of Fire propitious to you." Then the Bráhman said to the king, "How will you, unchastened and impure, propitiate that god of Fire, who is not satisfied with me, who remain thus faithful to my vow, and am chastened?" When the Bráhman said this to him, the king said to him again, "Never mind, give me a vilva fruit, and in a moment you shall behold a wonder." Then the Bráhman, full of curiosity, gave a vilva fruit to the king, and he then and there meditated with soul of firm valour--"If thou art not satisfied with this vilva fruit, O god of Fire, then I will offer thee my own head," and thereupon offered the fruit. And the seven-rayed god appeared from the sacrificial cavity, bringing the king a golden vilva fruit as the fruit of his tree of valour. And the Fire-god, present in visible form, said to that king--"I am pleased with thy courage, so receive a boon, O king." When the magnanimous king heard that, he bowed before him and said--"Grant this Bráhman his wish. What other boon do I require?" On hearing this speech of the king's, the Fire-god was much pleased and said to him--"O king, this Bráhman shall become a great lord of wealth, and thou also by my favour shalt have the prosperity of thy treasury ever undiminished." When the Fire-god had, in these words, bestowed the boon, the Bráhman asked him this question; "Thou hast appeared swiftly to a king that acts according to his own will, but not to me that am under vows: why is this, O revered one?" Then the Fire-god, the giver of boons, answered--"If I had not granted him an interview, this king of fierce courage would have offered his head in sacrifice to me. In this world successes quickly befall those of fierce spirit, but they come slowly, O Bráhman, to those of dull spirit like thee." Thus spake the god of Fire, and vanished, and the Bráhman Nágasarman took leave of the king and in course of time became very rich. But the king Vikramatunga, whose courage had been thus seen by his dependents, returned amid their plaudits to his town of Pátaliputra. When the king was dwelling there, the warder Satrunjaya entered suddenly one day, and said secretly to him; "There is standing at the door, O king, a Bráhman lad, who says his name is Dattasarman, he wishes to make a representation to you in private." The king gave the order to introduce him, and the lad was introduced, and after blessing the king, he bowed before him, and sat down. And he made this representation--"King, by a certain device of powder I know how to make always excellent gold out of copper. For that device was shewn me by my spiritual teacher, and I saw with my own eyes that he made gold by that device." When the lad said this, the king ordered copper to be brought, and when it was melted, the lad threw the powder upon it. But while the powder was being thrown, an invisible Yaksha carried it off, and the king alone saw him, having propitiated the god of Fire. And that copper did not turn into gold, as the powder did not reach it; thrice did the lad make the attempt and thrice his labour was in vain. Then the king, first of brave men, took the powder from the desponding lad, and himself threw it on the melted copper; when he threw the powder, the Yaksha did not intercept it, but went away smiling. Accordingly the copper became gold by contact with that powder. Then the boy, astonished, asked the king for an explanation, and the king told him the incident of the Yaksha, just as he had seen it. And having learned in this way the device of the powder from that lad, the king made him marry a wife, and gave him all he wished, and having his treasury prosperously filled by means of the gold produced by that device, he himself enjoyed great happiness together with his wives, and made Bráhmans rich. "Thus you see that the Lord grants their desires to men of fierce courage, seeming to be either terrified or pleased by them. And who, O king, is of more firm valour or more generous than you? So Siva, when propitiated by you, will certainly give you a son; do not sorrow." The king Hemaprabha, when he heard this noble speech from the mouth of queen Alankáraprabhá, believed it and was pleased. And he considered that his own heart, radiant with cheerfulness, indicated that he would certainly obtain a son by propitiating Siva. The next day after this, he and his wife bathed and worshipped Siva, and he gave 90 millions of gold-pieces to the Bráhmans, and without taking food he went through ascetic practices in front of Siva, determined that he would either leave the body or propitiate the god, and continuing in asceticism, he praised the giver of boons, the husband of the daughter of the mountain, [531] that lightly gave away the sea of milk to his votary Upamanyu, saying, "Honour to thee, O husband of Gaurí, who art the cause of the creation, preservation, and destruction of the world, who dost assume the eight special forms of ether and the rest. [532] Honour to thee, who sleepest on the ever-expanded lotus of the heart, that art Sambhu, the swan dwelling in the pure Mánasa lake. [533] Honour to thee, the exceeding marvellous Moon, of divine brightness, pure, of watery substance, to be beheld by those whose sins are put away; to thee whose beloved is half thy body, [534] and who nevertheless art supremely chaste. Honour to thee who didst create the world by a wish, and art thyself the world." When the king had praised Siva in these words and fasted for three nights, the god appeared to him in a dream, and spake as follows: "Rise up, O king, there shall be born to thee a heroic son that shall uphold thy race. And thou shalt also obtain by the favour of Gaurí, a glorious daughter who is destined to be the queen of that treasure-house of glory, Naraváhanadatta, your future emperor." When Siva had said this, he disappeared, and Hemaprabha woke up, delighted, at the close of night. And by telling his dream he gladdened his wife Alankáraprabhá, who had been told the same by Gaurí in a dream, and dwelt on the agreement of the two visions. And then the king rose up and bathed and worshipped Siva, and after giving gifts, broke his fast, and kept high festival. Then, after some days had passed, the queen Alankáraprabhá became pregnant by that king, and delighted her beloved by her face redolent of honey, with wildly rolling eyes, so that it resembled a pale lotus with bees hovering round it. Then she gave birth in due time to a son, (whose noble lineage was proclaimed by the elevated longings of her pregnancy,) as the sky gives birth to the orb of day. As soon as he was born, the lying-in chamber was illuminated by his might, and so was made red as vermilion. And his father gave to that infant, that brought terror to the families of his enemies, the name of Vajraprabha, that had been appointed for him by a divine voice. Then the boy grew by degrees, being filled with accomplishments, and causing the exultation of his family, as the new moon fills out with digits, [535] and causes the sea to rise. Then, not long after, the queen of that king Hemaprabha again became pregnant. And when she was pregnant, she sat upon a golden throne, and became truly the jewel of the harem, adding special lustre to her settings. And in a chariot, in the shape of a beautiful lotus, manufactured by help of magic science, she roamed about in the sky, since her pregnant longings assumed that form. But when the due time came, a daughter was born to that queen, whose birth by the favour of Gaurí was a sufficient guarantee of her loveliness. And this voice was then heard from heaven--"She shall be the wife of Naraváhanadatta"--which agreed with the words of Siva's revelation. And the king was just as much delighted at her birth as he was at that of his son, and gave her the name of Ratnaprabhá. And Ratnaprabhá, adorned with her own science, grew up in the house of her father, producing illumination in all the quarters of the sky. Then the king made his son Vajraprabha, who had begun to wear armour, take a wife, and appointed him crown-prince. And he devolved on him the burden of the kingdom and remained at ease; but still one anxiety lingered in his heart, anxiety about the marriage of his daughter. One day the king beheld that daughter, who was fit to be given away in marriage, sitting near him, and said to the queen Alankáraprabhá, who was in his presence; "Observe, queen, a daughter is a great misery in the three worlds, even though she is the ornament of her family, a misery, alas! even to the great. For this Ratnaprabhá, though modest, learned, young and beautiful, afflicts me because she has not obtained a husband." The queen said to him--"She was proclaimed by the gods as the destined wife of Naraváhanadatta, our future emperor, why is she not given to him?" When the queen said this to him, the king answered: "In truth the maiden is fortunate, that shall obtain him for a bridegroom. For he is an incarnation of Káma upon earth, but he has not as yet attained his divine nature: therefore I am now waiting for his attainment of superhuman knowledge." [536] While he was thus speaking, Ratnaprabhá, by means of those accents of her father, which entered her ear like the words of the bewildering spell of the god of love, became as if bewildered, as if possessed, as if asleep, as if in a picture, and her heart was captivated by that bridegroom. Then with difficulty she took a respectful leave of her parents, and went to her own private apartments, and managed at length to get to sleep at the end of the night. Then the goddess Gaurí, being full of pity for her, gave her this command in a dream; "To-morrow, my daughter, is an auspicious day; so thou must go to the city of Kausámbí and see thy future husband, and thence thy father, O auspicious one, will himself bring thee and him into this his city, and celebrate your marriage." So in the morning, when she woke up, she told that dream to her mother. Then her mother gave her leave to go, and she, knowing by her superhuman knowledge that her bridegroom was in the garden, set out from her own city to visit him. "Thou knowest, O my husband, that I am that Ratnaprabhá, arrived to-day in a moment, full of impatience, and you all know the sequel." When he heard this speech of hers, that in sweetness exceeded nectar, and beheld the body of the Vidyádharí that was ambrosia to the eyes, Naraváhanadatta in his heart blamed the Creator, saying to himself--"Why did he not make me all eye and ear?" And he said to her--"Fortunate am I; my birth and life has obtained its fruit, in that I, O beautiful one, have been thus visited by thee out of affection!" When they had thus exchanged the protestations of new love, suddenly the army of the Vidyádharas was beheld there in the heaven. Ratnaprabhá said immediately, "Here is my father come," and the king Hemaprabha descended from heaven with his son. And with his son Vajraprabha he approached that Naraváhanadatta, who gave him a courteous welcome. And while they stood for a moment paying one another the customary compliments, the king of Vatsa, who had heard of it, came with his ministers. And then that Hemaprabha told the king, after he had performed towards him the rites of hospitality, the whole story exactly as it had been related by Ratnaprabhá, and said, "I knew by the power of my supernatural knowledge that my daughter had come here, and I am aware of all that has happened in this place. [537] For he will afterwards possess such an imperial chariot. Pray consent, and then thou shalt behold in a short time thy son, the prince, returned here, united to his wife Ratnaprabhá." After he had addressed this prayer to the king of Vatsa, and he had consented to his wish, that Hemaprabha, with his son, prepared that chariot by his own magic skill, and made Naraváhanadatta ascend it, together with Ratnaprabhá, whose face was cast down from modesty, followed by Gomukha and the others, and Yaugandharáyana, who was also deputed to accompany him by his father, and thus Hemaprabha took him to his own capital, Kánchanasringaka. And Naraváhanadatta, when he reached that city of his father-in-law, saw that it was all of gold, gleaming with golden ramparts, embraced, as it were, on all sides with rays issuing out like shoots, and so stretching forth innumerable arms in eagerness of love for that son-in-law. There the king Hemaprabha, of high emprise, gave Ratnaprabhá with due ceremonies to him, as the sea gave Lakshmí to Vishnu. And he gave him glittering heaps of jewels, gleaming like innumerable wedding fires lighted. [538] And in the city of that festive prince, who was showering wealth, even the houses, being draped with flags, appeared as if they had received changes of raiment. And Naraváhanadatta, having performed the auspicious ceremony of marriage, remained there enjoying heavenly pleasures with Ratnaprabhá. And he amused himself by looking in her company at beautiful temples of the gods in gardens and lakes, having ascended with her the heaven by the might of her science. So, after he had lived some days with his wife in the city of the king of the Vidyádharas, the son of the king of Vatsa determined, in accordance with the advice of Yaugandharáyana, to return to his own city. Then his mother-in-law performed for him the auspicious ceremonies previous to starting, and his father-in-law again honoured him and his minister, and then he set out with Hemaprabha and his son, accompanied by his beloved, having again ascended that chariot. He soon arrived, like a stream of nectar to the eyes of his mother, and entered his city with Hemaprabha and his son and his own followers, bringing with him his wife, who made the king of Vatsa rejoice exceedingly with delight at beholding her. The king of Vatsa of exalted fortune, with Vásavadattá, welcomed that son, who bowed at his feet with his wife, and honoured Hemaprabha his new connexion, as well as his son, in a manner conformable to his own dignity. Then, after that king of the Vidyádharas, Hemaprabha, had taken leave of the lord of Vatsa and his family, and had flown up into the heaven and gone to his own city, that Naraváhanadatta, together with Ratnaprabhá and Madanamanchuká, spent that day in happiness surrounded by his friends. CHAPTER XXXVI. When that Naraváhanadatta had thus obtained a new and lovely bride of the Vidyádhara race, and was the next day with her in her house, there came in the morning to the door, to visit him, his ministers Gomukha and others. They were stopped for a moment at the door by the female warder, and announced within; then they entered and were courteously received, and Ratnaprabhá said to the warder, "The door must not again be closed against the entrance of my husband's friends, for they are as dear to me as my own body. And I do not think that this is the way to guard female apartments." After she had addressed the female warder in these words, she said in turn to her husband, "My husband, I am going to say something which occurs to me, so listen. I consider that the strict seclusion of women is a mere social custom, or rather folly produced by jealousy. It is of no use whatever. Women of good family are guarded by their own virtue, as their only chamberlain. But even God himself can scarcely guard the unchaste. Who can restrain a furious river and a passionate woman? And now listen, I will tell you a story." Story of king Ratnádhipati and the white elephant Svetarasmi. There is here a great island in the midst of the sea, named Ratnakúta. In it there lived in old times a king of great courage, a devoted worshipper of Vishnu, rightly named Ratnádhipati. [539] That king, in order to obtain the conquest of the earth, and all kings' daughters as his wives, went through a severe penance, to propitiate Vishnu. The adorable one, pleased with his penance, appeared in bodily form, and thus commanded him--"Rise up, king, I am pleased with thee, so I tell thee this--listen! There is in the land of Kalinga a Gandharva, who has become a white elephant by the curse of a hermit, and is known by the name of Svetarasmi. On account of the asceticism he performed in a former life, and on account of his devotion to me, that elephant is supernaturally wise, and possesses the power of flying through the sky, and of remembering his former birth. And I have given an order to that great elephant, in accordance with which he will come of himself through the air, and become thy beast of burden. That white elephant thou must mount, as the wielder of the thunderbolt mounts the elephant of the gods, [540] and whatever king thou shalt travel through the air to visit, in fear shall bestow on thee, who art of god-like presence, tribute in the form of a daughter, for I will myself command him to do so in a dream. Thus thou shalt conquer the whole earth, and all zenanas, and thou shalt obtain eighty thousand princesses." When Vishnu had said this, he disappeared, and the king broke his fast, and the next day he beheld that elephant, which had come to him through the air. And when the elephant had thus placed himself at the king's disposal, he mounted him, as he had been bidden to do by Vishnu, and in this manner he conquered the earth, and carried off the daughters of kings. And then the king dwelt there in Ratnakúta with those wives, eighty thousand in number, amusing himself as he pleased. And in order to propitiate Svetarasmi, that celestial elephant, he fed every day five hundred Bráhmans. Now once on a time the king Ratnádhipati mounted that elephant, and, after roaming through the other islands, returned to his own island. And as he was descending from the sky, it came to pass that a bird of the race of Garuda struck that excellent elephant with his beak. And the bird fled, when the king struck him with the sharp elephant-hook, but the elephant fell on the ground stunned by the blow of the bird's beak. The king got off his back, but the elephant, though he recovered his senses, was not able to rise up in spite of the efforts made to raise him, and ceased eating. For five days the elephant remained in the same place, where it had fallen, and the king was grieved and took no food, and prayed as follows: "Oh guardians of the world, teach me some remedy in this difficulty; otherwise I will cut off my own head and offer it to you." When he had said this, he drew his sword and was preparing to cut off his head, when immediately a bodiless voice thus addressed him from the sky--"O king do nothing rash; if some chaste woman touches this elephant with her hand, it will rise up, but not otherwise." When the king heard that, he was glad, and summoned his own carefully guarded chief queen, Amritalatá. When the elephant did not rise up, though she touched it with her hand, the king had all his other wives summoned. But though they all touched the elephant in succession, he did not rise up; the fact was, not one among them was chaste. Then the king, having beheld all those eighty thousand wives openly humiliated in the presence of men, being himself abashed, summoned all the women of his capital, and made them touch the elephant one after another. And when in spite of it the elephant did not rise up, the king was ashamed, because there was not a single chaste woman in his city. And in the meanwhile a merchant named Harshagupta, who had arrived from Támraliptí, [541] having heard of that event, came there full of curiosity. And in his train there came a servant of the name of Sílavatí, who was devoted to her husband; when she saw what had taken place, she said to him--"I will touch this elephant with my hand: and if I have not even thought in my mind of any other man than my husband, may it rise up." No sooner had she said this, than she came up and touched the elephant with her hand, whereupon it rose up in sound health and began to eat. [542] But when the people saw the elephant Svetarasmi rise up, they raised a shout and praised Sílavatí, saying--"Such are these chaste women, few and far between, who, like Siva, are able to create, preserve and destroy this world." The king Ratnádhipati also was pleased, and congratulated the chaste Sílavatí, and loaded her with innumerable jewels, and he also honoured her master, the merchant Harshagupta, and gave him a house near his own palace. And he determined to avoid all communication with his own wives, and ordered that henceforth they should have nothing but food and raiment. Then the king, after he had taken his food, sent for the chaste Sílavatí, and said to her at a private interview in the presence of Harshagupta, "Sílavatí, if you have any maiden of your father's family, give her to me, for I know she will certainly be like you." When the king said this to her, Sílavatí answered--"I have a sister in Támraliptí named Rájadattá; marry her, O king, if you wish, for she is of distinguished beauty." When she said this to the king, he consented and said, "So be it," and having determined on taking this step, he mounted, with Sílavatí and Harshagupta, the elephant Svetarasmi, that could fly though the air, and going in person to Támraliptí, entered the house of that merchant Harshagupta. There he asked the astrologers that very day, what would be a favourable time for him to be married to Rájadattá, the sister of Sílavatí. And the astrologers, having enquired under what stars both of them were born, said, "A favourable conjuncture will come for you, O king, in three months from this time. But if you marry Rájadattá in the present position of the constellations, she will without fail prove unchaste." Though the astrologers gave him this response, the king, being eager for a charming wife, and impatient of dwelling long alone, thus reflected--"Away with scruples! I will marry Rájadattá here this very day. For she is the sister of the blameless Sílavatí and will never prove unchaste. And I will place her in that uninhabited island in the middle of the sea, where there is one empty palace, and in that inaccessible spot I will surround her with a guard of women; so how can she become unchaste, as she can never see men?" Having formed this determination, the king that very day rashly married that Rájadattá, whom Sílavatí bestowed upon him. And after he had married her, and had been received with the customary rites by Harshagupta, he took that wife, and with her and Sílavatí, he mounted Svetarasmi, and then in a moment went through the air to the land of Ratnakúta, where the people were anxiously expecting him. And he rewarded Sílavatí again so munificently, that she attained all her wishes, having reaped the fruit of her vow of chastity. Then he mounted his new wife Rájadattá on that same air-travelling elephant Svetarasmi, and conveyed her carefully, and placed her in the empty palace in the island in the midst of the sea, inaccessible to man, with a retinue of women only. And whatever article she required, he conveyed there through the air on that elephant, so great was his distrust. And being devotedly attached to her, he always spent the night there, but came to Ratnakúta in the day to transact his regal duties. Now one morning the king, in order to counteract an inauspicious dream, indulged with that Rájadattá in a drinking-bout for good luck. And though his wife, being intoxicated with that banquet, did not wish to let him go, he left her, and departed to Ratnakúta to transact his business, for the royal dignity is an ever-exacting wife. There he remained performing his duties with anxious mind, which seemed ever to ask him, why he left his wife there in a state of intoxication? And in the meanwhile Rájadattá, remaining alone in that inaccessible place, the female servants being occupied in culinary and other duties, saw a certain man come in at the door, like Fate determined to baffle all expedients for guarding her, and his arrival filled her with astonishment. And that intoxicated woman asked him when he approached her, "Who are you, and how have you come to this inaccessible place?" Then that man, who had endured many hardships, answered her-- Story of Yavanasena. Fair one, I am a merchant's son of Mathurá named Yavanasena. And when my father died, I was left helpless, and my relations took from me my property, so I went to a foreign country, and resorted to the miserable condition of being servant to another man. Then I with difficulty scraped together a little wealth by trading, and as I was going to another land, I was plundered by robbers who met me on the way. Then I wandered about as a beggar, and, with some other men like myself, I went to a mine of jewels called Kanakakshetra. There I engaged to pay the king his share, and after digging up the earth in a trench for a whole year, I did not find a single jewel. So, while the other men my fellows were rejoicing over the jewels they had found, smitten with grief I retired to the shore of the sea, and began to collect fuel. And while I was constructing with the fuel a funeral pyre, in order that I might enter the flame, a certain merchant named Jívadatta happened to come there; that merciful man dissuaded me from suicide, and gave me food, and as he was preparing to go in a ship to Svarnadvípa he took me on board with him. Then, as we were sailing along in the midst of the ocean, after five days had passed, we suddenly beheld a cloud. The cloud discharged its rain in large drops, and that vessel was whirled round by the wind like the head of a mast elephant. Immediately the ship sank, but as fate would have it, I caught hold of a plank, just as I was sinking. I mounted on it, and thereupon the thunder-cloud relaxed its fury, and, conducted by destiny, I reached this country; and have just landed in the forest. And seeing this palace, I entered, and I beheld here thee, O auspicious one, a rain of nectar to my eyes, dispelling pain. When he had said this, Rájadattá maddened with love and wine, placed him on a couch and embraced him. Where there are these five fires, feminine nature, intoxication, privacy, the obtaining of a man, and absence of restraint, what chance for the stubble of character? So true is it, that a woman maddened by the god of Love is incapable of discrimination; since this queen became enamoured of that loathsome castaway. In the meanwhile the king Ratnádhipati, being anxious, came swiftly from Ratnakúta, borne along on the sky-going elephant; and entering his palace he beheld his wife Rájadattá in the arms of that creature. When the king saw the man, though he felt tempted to slay him, he slew him not, because he fell at his feet, and uttered piteous supplications. And beholding his wife terrified, and at the same time intoxicated, he reflected, "How can a woman that is addicted to wine, the chief ally of lust, be chaste? A lascivious woman cannot be restrained even by being guarded. Can one fetter a whirlwind with one's arms? This is the fruit of my not heeding the prediction of the astrologers. To whom is not the scorning of wise words bitter in its after-taste? When I thought that she was the sister of Sílavatí, I forgot that the Kálakúta poison was twin-born with the amrita. [543] Or rather who is able, even by doing the utmost of a man, to overcome the incalculable freaks of marvellously working Destiny." Thus reflecting, the king was not wroth with any one, and spared the merchant's son, her paramour, after asking him the story of his life. The merchant's son, when dismissed thence, seeing no other expedient, went out and beheld a ship coming, far off in the sea. Then he again mounted that plank, and drifting about in the sea, cried out, puffing and blowing, "Save me! Save me!" So a merchant, of the name of Krodhavarman, who was on that ship, drew that merchant's son out of the water, and made him his companion. Whatever deed is appointed by the Disposer to be the destruction of any man, dogs his steps whithersoever he runneth. For this fool, when on the ship, was discovered by his deliverer secretly associating with his wife, and thereupon was cast by him into the sea and perished. In the meanwhile the king Ratnádhipati caused the queen Rájadattá with her retinue to mount Svetarasmi, without allowing himself to be angry, and he carried her to Ratnakúta, and delivered her to Sílavatí, and related that occurrence to her and his ministers. And he exclaimed, "Alas! How much pain have I endured, whose mind has been devoted to these unsubstantial insipid enjoyments. Therefore I will go to the forest, and take Hari as my refuge, in order that I may never again be a vessel of such woes." Thus he spake, and though his sorrowing ministers and Sílavatí endeavoured to prevent him, he, being disgusted with the world, would not abandon his intention. Then, being indifferent to enjoyments, he first gave half of his treasure to the virtuous Sílavatí, and the other half to the Bráhmans, and then that king made over in the prescribed form his kingdom to a Bráhman of great excellence, named Pápabhanjana. And after he had given away his kingdom, he ordered Svetarasmi to be brought, with the object of retiring to a grove of asceticism, his subjects looking on with tearful eyes. No sooner was the elephant brought, than it left the body, and became a man of god-like appearance, adorned with necklace and bracelet. When the king asked him who he was, and what was the meaning of all this, he answered: "We were two Gandharva brothers, living on the Malaya mountain: I was called Somaprabha, and the eldest was Devaprabha. And my brother had but one wife, but she was very dear to him. Her name was Rájavatí. One day he was wandering about with her in his arms, and happened to arrive, with me in his company, at a place called the dwelling of the Siddhas. There we both worshipped Vishnu in his temple, and began all of us to sing before the adorable one. In the meanwhile a Siddha came there, and stood regarding with fixed gaze Rájavatí, who was singing songs well worth hearing. And my brother, who was jealous, said in his wrath to that Siddha; 'Why dost thou, although a Siddha, cast a longing look at another's wife?' Then the Siddha was moved with anger, and said to him by way of a curse--'Fool, I was looking at her out of interest in her song, not out of desire. So fall thou, jealous one, into a mortal womb together with her; and then behold with thy own eyes thy wife in the embraces of another.' When he had said this, I, being enraged at the curse, struck him, out of childish recklessness, with a white toy elephant of clay, that I had in my hand. Then he cursed me in the following words--"Be born again on the earth as an elephant, like that with which you have just struck me." Then being merciful, that Siddha allowed himself to be propitiated by that brother of mine Devaprabha, and appointed for us both the following termination of the curse; "Though a mortal thou shalt become, by the favour of Vishnu, the lord of an island, and shalt obtain as thy servant this thy younger brother, who will have become an elephant, a beast of burden fit for gods. Thou shalt obtain eighty thousand wives, and thou shalt come to learn the unchastity of them all in the presence of men. Then thou shalt marry this thy present wife, who will have become a woman, and shalt see her with thy own eyes embracing another. Then, thou shalt become sick in thy heart of the world, and shalt bestow thy realm on a Bráhman, but when after doing this thou shalt set out to go to a forest of ascetics, thy younger brother shall first be released from his elephant nature, and thou also with thy wife shalt be delivered from thy curse.' This was the termination of the curse appointed for us by the Siddha, and we were accordingly born with different lots, on account of the difference of our actions in that previous state, and lo! the end of our curse has now arrived." When Somaprabha had said this, that king Ratnádhipati remembered his former birth, and said--"True! I am that very Devaprabha; and this Rájadattá is my former wife Rájavatí." Having said this, he, together with his wife, abandoned the body. In a moment they all became Gandharvas, and, in the sight of men, flew up into the air, and went to their own home, the Malaya mountain. Sílavatí too, through the nobleness of her character, obtained prosperity, and going to the city of Támraliptí, remained in the practice of virtue. "So true is it, that in no case can any one guard a woman by force in this world, but the young woman of good family is ever protected by the pure restraint of her own chastity. And thus the passion of jealousy is merely a purposeless cause of suffering, annoying others, and so far from being a protection to women, it rather excites in them excessive longing." When Naraváhanadatta had heard this tale full of good sense related by his wife, he and his ministers were highly pleased. CHAPTER XXXVII. Then Naraváhanadatta's minister Gomukha said to him, by way of capping the tale, which had been told by Ratnaprabhá: "It is true that chaste women are few and far between, but unchaste women are never to be trusted; in illustration of this, hear the following story." Story of Nischayadatta. There is in this land a town of the name of Ujjayiní, famous throughout the world: in it there lived of old time a merchant's son, named Nischayadatta. He was a gambler and had acquired money by gambling, and every day the generous man used to bathe in the water of the Siprá, and worship Mahákála: [544] his custom was first to give money to the Bráhmans, the poor, and the helpless, and then to anoint himself and indulge in food and betel. Every day, when he had finished his bathing and his worship, he used to go and anoint himself in a cemetery near the temple of Mahákála, with sandalwood and other things. And the young man placed the unguent on a stone pillar that stood there, and so anointed himself every day alone, rubbing his back against it. In that way the pillar eventually became very smooth and polished. Then there came that way a draughtsman with a sculptor; the first, seeing that the pillar was very smooth, drew on it a figure of Gaurí, and the sculptor with his chisel in pure sport carved it on the stone. Then, after they had departed, a certain daughter of the Vidyádharas came there to worship Mahákála, and saw that image of Gaurí on the stone. From the clearness of the image she inferred the proximity of the goddess, and, after worshipping, she entered that stone pillar to rest. In the meanwhile Nischayadatta, the merchant's son, came there, and to his astonishment beheld that figure of Umá carved on the stone. He first anointed his limbs, and then placing the unguent on another part of the stone, began to anoint his back by rubbing it against the stone. When the rolling-eyed Vidyádhara maiden inside the pillar saw that, her heart being captivated by his beauty, she reflected--"What! has this handsome man no one to anoint his back? Then I will now rub his back for him." Thus the Vidyádharí reflected, and, stretching forth her hand from inside the pillar, she anointed his back then and there out of affection. Immediately the merchant's son felt the touch, and heard the jingling of the bracelet, and caught hold of her hand with his. And the Vidyádharí, invisible as she was, said to him from the pillar--"Noble sir, what harm have I done you? let go my hand." Then Nischayadatta answered her--"Appear before me, and say who you are, then I will let go your hand." Then the Vidyádharí affirmed with an oath--"I will appear before your eyes, and tell you all." So he let go her hand. Then she came out visibly from the pillar, beautiful in every limb, and sitting down, with her eyes fixed on his face, said to him, "There is a city called Pushkarávatí [545] on a peak of the Himálayas, in it there lives a king named Vindhyapara. I am his maiden daughter, named Anurágapará. I came to worship Mahákála, and rested here to-day. And thereupon you came here, and were beheld by me anointing your back on this pillar, resembling the stupefying weapon of the god of love. Then first my heart was charmed with affection for you, and afterwards my hand was smeared with your unguent, as I rubbed your back. [546] The sequel you know. So I will now go to my father's house." When she said this to the merchant's son, he answered--"Fair one, I have not recovered my soul which you have taken captive; how can you thus depart, without letting go the soul which you have taken possession of?" When he said this to her, she was immediately overcome with love, and said--"I will marry you, if you come to my city. It is not hard for you to reach; your endeavour will be sure to succeed. For nothing in this world is difficult to the enterprising." Having said this, Anurágapará flew up into the air and departed; and Nischayadatta returned home with mind fixed upon her. Recollecting the hand that was protruded from the pillar, like a shoot from the trunk of a tree, he thought--"Alas! though I seized her hand I did not win it for my own. Therefore I will go to the city of Pushkarávatí to visit her, and either I shall lose my life, or Fate will come to my aid." So musing, he passed that day there in an agony of love, and he set out from that place early the next morning, making for the north. As he journeyed, three other merchants' sons, who were travelling towards the north, associated themselves with him as companions. In company with them he travelled through cities, villages, forests, and rivers, and at last reached the northern region abounding in barbarians. There he and his companions were found on the way by some Tájikas, who took them and sold them to another Tájika. He sent them in the care of his servants as a present to a Turushka, named Muravára. Then those servants took him and the other three, and hearing that Muravára was dead, they delivered them to his son. The son of Muravára thought--"These men have been sent me as a present by my father's friend, so I must send them to him to-morrow by throwing them into his grave." [547] Accordingly the Turushka fettered Nischayadatta and his three friends with strong chains, that they might be kept till the morning. Then, while they were remaining in chains at night, Nischayadatta said to his three friends, the merchant's sons, who were afflicted with dread of death--"What will you gain by despondency? Maintain steadfast resolution. For calamities depart far away from the resolute, as if terrified at them. Think on the peerless adorable Durgá, that deliverer from calamity." Thus encouraging them, he devoutly worshipped that goddess Durgá: "Hail to thee, O goddess! I worship thy feet that are stained with a red dye, as if it were the clotted gore of the trampled Asura clinging to them. Thou, as the all-ruling power of Siva, dost govern the three worlds, and inspired by thee they live and move. Thou didst deliver the worlds, O slayer of the Asura Mahisha. Deliver me that crave thy protection, O thou cherisher of thy votaries." In these and similar words he and his companions duly worshipped the goddess, and then they all fell asleep, being weary. And the goddess Durgá in a dream commanded Nischayadatta and his companions--"Rise up, my children, depart, for your fetters are loosed." Then they woke up at night, and saw that their fetters had fallen off of themselves, and after relating to one another their dream, they departed thence delighted. And after they had gone a long journey, the night came to an end, and then those merchant's sons, who had gone through such terrors, said to Nischayadatta; "Enough of this quarter of the world infested with barbarians! We will go to the Deccan, friend, but do you do as you desire."--When they said this to him, he dismissed them to go where they would, and set out alone vigorously on his journey, making towards that very northern quarter, drawn by the noose of love for Anurágapará, flinging aside fear. As he went along, he fell in, in course of time, with four Pásupata ascetics, and reached and crossed the river Vitastá. And after crossing it, he took food, and as the sun was kissing the western mountain, he entered with them a forest that lay in their path. And there some woodmen, that met them, said to them: "Whither are you going, now that the day is over. There is no village in front of you: but there is an empty temple of Siva in this wood. Whoever remains there during the night inside or outside, falls a prey to a Yakshiní, who bewilders him, making horns grow on his forehead, and then treats him as a victim, and devours him." Those four Pásupata ascetics, who were travelling together, though they heard this, said to Nischayadatta, "Come along! what can that miserable Yakshiní do to us? For we have remained many nights in various cemeteries." When they said this, he went with them, and finding an empty temple of Siva, he entered it with them to pass the night there. In the court of that temple the bold Nischayadatta and the Pásupata ascetics quickly made a great circle with ashes, and entering into it, they lighted a fire with fuel, and all remained there, muttering a charm to protect themselves. Then at night there came there dancing the Yakshiní Sringotpádiní, [548] playing from afar on her lute of bones, and when she came near, she fixed her eye on one of the four Pásupata ascetics, and recited a charm, as she danced outside the circle. That charm produced horns on him, [549] and bewildered he rose up, and danced till he fell into the blazing fire. And when he had fallen, the Yakshiní dragged him half-burnt out of the fire, and devoured him with delight. Then she fixed her eye on the second Pásupata ascetic, and in the same way recited the horn-producing charm and danced. The second one also had horns produced by that charm, and was made to dance, and falling into the fire, was dragged out and devoured before the eyes of the others. In this way the Yakshiní maddened one after another at night the four ascetics, and after horns had been produced on them, devoured them. But while she was devouring the fourth, it came to pass that, being intoxicated with flesh and blood, she laid her lute down on the ground. Thereupon the bold Nischayadatta rose up quickly, and seized the lute, and began to play on it, and dancing round with a laugh, to recite that horn-producing charm, which he had learnt from hearing it often, fixing at the same time his eye on the face of the Yakshiní. By the operation of the charm she was confused, and dreading death, as horns were just about to sprout on her forehead, she flung herself prostrate, and thus entreated him; "Valiant man, do not slay me, a helpless woman. I now implore your protection, stop the recital of the charm, and the accompanying movements. Spare me! I know all your story, and will bring about your wish; I will carry you to the place, where Anurágapará is." The bold Nischayadatta, when thus confidingly addressed by her, consented, and stopped the recital of the charm, and the accompanying movements. Then, at the request of the Yakshiní, he mounted on her back, and being carried by her through the air, he went to find his beloved. [550] And when the night came to an end, they had reached a mountain wood; there the Guhyakí bowing thus addressed Nischayadatta; "Now that the sun has risen, I have no power to go upwards, [551] so spend this day in this charming wood, my lord; eat sweet fruits and drink the clear water of the brooks. I go to my own place, and I will return at the approach of night; and then I will take you to the city of Pushkarávatí, the crown of the Himálayas, and into the presence of Anurágapará." Having said this, the Yakshiní with his permission set him down from her shoulder, and departed to return again according to her promise. When she had gone, Nischayadatta beheld a deep lake, transparent and cool, but tainted with poison, lit up by the sun, that stretching forth the fingers of its rays, revealed it as an example illustrative of the nature of the heart of a passionate woman. He knew by the smell that it was tainted with poison, and left it, after necessary ablutions, and being afflicted with thirst he roamed all over that heavenly mountain in search of water. And as he was wandering about, he saw on a lofty place what seemed to be two rubies glittering, and he dug up the ground there. And after he had removed the earth, he saw there the head of a living monkey, and his eyes like two rubies. While he was indulging his wonder, thinking what this could be, that monkey thus addressed him with human voice; "I am a man, a Bráhman transformed into a monkey; release me, and then I will tell you all my story, excellent sir." As soon as he heard this, he removed the earth, marvelling, and drew the ape out of the ground. When Nischayadatta had drawn out the ape, it fell at his feet, and continued--"You have given me life by rescuing me from calamity. So come, since you are weary, take fruit and water, and by your favour I also will break my long fast. Having said this, the liberated monkey took him to the bank of a mountain-torrent some distance off, where there were delicious fruits, and shady trees. There he bathed and took fruit and water, and coming back, he said to the monkey who had broken his fast--"Tell me how you have become a monkey, being really a man." Then that monkey said, "Listen, I will tell you now." Story of Somasvámin. In the city of Váránasí there is an excellent Bráhman named Chandrasvámin, I am his son by his virtuous wife, my friend. And my father gave me the name of Somasvámin. In course of time it came to pass that I mounted the fierce elephant of love, which infatuation makes uncontrollable. When I was at this stage of my life, the youthful Bandhudattá, the daughter of the merchant Srígarbha, an inhabitant of that city, and the wife of the great merchant of Mathurá Varáhadatta, who was dwelling in her father's house, beheld me one day, as she was looking out of the window. She was enamoured of me on beholding me, and after enquiring my name, she sent a confidential female friend to me, desiring an interview. Her friend came up secretly to me who was blind with love, and, after telling her friend's desire, took me to her house. There she placed me, and then went and brought secretly Bandhudattá, whose eagerness made her disregard shame. And no sooner was she brought, than she threw her arms round my neck, for excessive love in women is your only hero for daring. Thus every day Bandhudattá came at will from her father's house, and sported with me in the house of her female friend. Now one day the great merchant, her husband, came from Mathurá to take her back to his own house, as she had been long absent. Then Bandhudattá, as her father ordered her to go, and her husband was eager to take her away, secretly made a second request to her friend. She said "I am certainly going to be taken by my husband to the city of Mathurá, and I cannot live there separated from Somasvámin. So tell me what resource there is left to me in this matter." When she said this, her friend Sukhasayá, who was a witch, answered her, "I know two spells; [552] by reciting one of them a man can be in a moment made an ape, if a string is fastened round his neck, and by the second, if the string is loosed, he will immediately become a man again; and while he is an ape his intelligence is not diminished. So if you like, fair one, you can keep your lover Somasvámin; for I will turn him into an ape on the spot, then take him with you to Mathurá as a pet animal. And I will shew you how to use the two spells, so that you can turn him, when near you, into the shape of a monkey, and when you are in a secret place, make him once more a beloved man." When her friend had told her this, Bandhudattá consented, and sending for me in secret, told me that matter in the most loving tone. I consented, and immediately Sukhasayá fastened a thread on my neck and recited the spell, and made me a young monkey. And in that shape Bandhudattá brought and shewed me to her husband, and she said--"A friend of mine gave me this animal to play with." And he was delighted when he saw me in her arms as a plaything, and I, though a monkey, retained my intelligence, and the power of articulate speech. And I remained there, saying to myself with inward laughter--"Wonderful are the actions of women." For whom does not love beguile? The next day Bandhudattá, having been taught that spell by her friend, set out from her father's house to go to Mathurá with her husband. And the husband of Bandhudattá, wishing to please her, had me carried on the back of one of his servants during the journey. So the servant and I and the rest went along, and in two or three days reached a wood, that lay in our way, which was perilous from abounding in monkeys. Then the monkeys, beholding me, attacked me in troops on all sides, quickly calling to one another with shrill cries. And the irrepressible apes came and began to bite that merchant's servant, on whose back I was sitting. He was terrified at that, and flung me off his back on to the ground, and fled for fear, so the monkeys got hold of me then and there. And Bandhudattá, out of love for me, and her husband and his servants, attacked the apes with stones and sticks, but were not able to get the better of them. Then those monkeys, as if enraged with my evil actions, pulled off with their teeth and nails every hair from every one of my limbs, as I lay there bewildered. At last, by the virtue of the string on my neck, and by thinking on Siva, I managed to recover my strength, and getting loose from them, I ran away. And entering into the depths of the wood, I got out of their sight, and gradually, roaming from forest to forest, I reached this wood. And while I was wandering about here in the rainy season, blind with the darkness of grief, saying to myself, "How is it that even in this life adultery has produced for thee the fruit of transformation into the shape of a monkey, and thou hast lost Bandhudattá?" Destiny, not yet sated with tormenting me, inflicted on me another woe, for a female elephant suddenly came upon me, and seizing me with her trunk flung me into the mud of an ant-hill that had been saturated with rain. I know it must have been some divinity instigated by Destiny, for, though I exerted myself to the utmost, I could not get out of that mud. And while it was drying up, [553] not only did I not die, but knowledge was produced in me, while I thought continually upon Siva. And all the while I never felt hunger nor thirst, my friend, until to-day you drew me out of this trap of dry mud. And though I have gained knowledge, I do not even now possess power sufficient to set myself free from this monkey nature. But when some witch unties the thread on my neck, reciting at the same time the appropriate spell, then I shall once more become a man. "This is my story, but tell me now, my friend, how you came to this inaccessible wood, and why." When Nischayadatta was thus requested by the Bráhman Somasvámin, he told him his story, how he came from Ujjayiní on account of a Vidyádharí, and how he was conveyed at night by a Yakshiní, whom he had subdued by his presence of mind. Then the wise Somasvámin, who wore the form of a monkey, having heard that wonderful story, went on to say; "You, like myself, have suffered great woe for the sake of a female. But females, like prosperous circumstances, are never faithful to any one in this world. Like the evening, they display a short-lived glow of passion, their hearts are crooked like the channels of rivers, like snakes they are not to be relied on, like lightning they are fickle. So, that Anurágapará, though she may be enamoured of you for a time, when she finds a paramour of her own race, will be disgusted with you, who are only a mortal. So desist now from this effort for the sake of a female, which you will find like the fruit of the Colocynth, bitter in its after-taste. Do not go, my friend, to Pushkarávatí, the city of the Vidyádharas, but ascend the back of the Yakshiní and return to your own Ujjayiní. Do what I tell you, my friend; formerly in my passion I did not heed the voice of a friend, and I am suffering for it at this very moment. For when I was in love with Bandhudattá, a Bráhman named Bhavasarman, who was a very dear friend of mine, said this to me in order to dissuade me;--'Do not put yourself in the power of a female, the heart of a female is a tangled maze; in proof of it I will tell you what happened to me--listen!'" Story of Bhavasarman. In this very country, in the city of Váránasí, there lived a young and beautiful Bráhman woman named Somadá, who was unchaste and secretly a witch. And as destiny would have it, I had secret interviews with her, and in the course of our intimacy my love for her increased. One day I wilfully struck her in the fury of jealousy, and the cruel woman bore it patiently, concealing her anger for the time. The next day she fastened a string round my neck, as if in loving sport, and I was immediately turned into a domesticated ox. Then I, thus transformed into an ox, was sold by her, on receiving the required price, to a man who lived by keeping domesticated camels. When he placed a load upon me, a witch there, named Bandhamochaniká, beholding me sore burdened, was filled with pity. [554] She knew by her supernatural knowledge that I had been made an animal by Somadá, and when my proprietor was not looking, she loosed the string from my neck. So I returned to the form of a man, and that master of mine immediately looked round, and thinking that I had escaped, wandered all about the country in search of me. And as I was going away from that place with Bandhamochiní, it happened that Somadá came that way and beheld me at a distance. She, burning with rage, said to Bandhamochiní, who possessed supernatural knowledge,--"Why did you deliver this villain from his bestial transformation? Curses on you! wicked woman, you shall reap the fruit of this evil deed. To-morrow morning I will slay you, together with this villain." When she had gone after saying this, that skilful sorceress Bandhamochiní, in order to repel her assault, gave me the following instructions--"She will come to-morrow morning in the form of a black mare to slay me, and I shall then assume the form of a bay mare. And when we have begun to fight, you must come behind this Somadá, sword in hand, and resolutely strike her. In this way we will slay her; so come to-morrow morning to my house." After saying this, she pointed out to me her house. When she had entered it, I went home, having endured more than one birth in this very life. And in the morning I went to the house of Bandhamochiní, sword in hand. Then Somadá came there, in the form of a black mare. [555] And Bandhamochiní, for her part, assumed the form of a bay mare; and then they fought with their teeth and heels, biting and kicking. Then I struck that vile witch Somadá a blow with my sword, and she was slain by Bandhamochiní. Then I was freed from fear, and having escaped the calamity of bestial transformation, I never again allowed my mind to entertain the idea of associating with wicked women. Women generally have these three faults, terrible to the three worlds, flightiness, recklessness, and a love for the congregation of witches. [556] So why do you run after Bandhudattá, who is a friend of witches? Since she does not love her husband, how is it possible that she can love you? "Though my friend Bhavasarman gave me this advice, I did not do what he told me; and so I am reduced to this state. So I give you this counsel; do not suffer hardship to win Anurágapará, for when she obtains a lover of her own race, she will of a surety desert you. A woman ever desires fresh men, as a female humble bee wanders from flower to flower; so you will suffer regret some day, like me, my friend." This speech of Somasvámin, who had been transformed into a monkey, did not penetrate the heart of Nischayadatta, for it was full of passion. And he said to that monkey; "She will not be unfaithful to me, for she is born of the pure race of the Vidyádharas." Whilst they were thus conversing, the sun, red with the hues of evening, went to the mountain of setting, as if wishing to please Nischayadatta. Then the night arrived, as the harbinger of the Yakshiní Sringotpádiní, and she herself came soon afterwards. And Nischayadatta mounted on her back, and went off to go to his beloved, taking leave of the ape, who begged that he might ever be remembered by him. And at midnight he reached that city of Pushkarávatí, which was situated on the Himálayas, and belonged to the king of the Vidyádharas, the father of Anurágapará. At that very moment Anurágapará, having known by her power of his arrival, came out from that city to meet him. Then the Yakshiní put down Nischayadatta from her shoulder, and pointing out to him Anurágapará, said--"Here comes your beloved, like a second moon giving a feast to your eyes in the night, so now I will depart," and bowing before him, she went her way. Then Anurágapará, full of the excitement produced by expectation, went up to her beloved, and welcomed him with embraces and other signs of love. He too embraced her, and now that he had obtained the joy of meeting her after enduring many hardships, he could not be contained in his own body, and as it were entered hers. So Anurágapará was made his wife by the Gándharva ceremony of marriage, and she immediately by her magic skill created a city. In that city, which was outside the metropolis, he dwelt with her, without her parents suspecting it, as their eyes were blinded by her skill. And when, on her questioning him, he told her those strange and painful adventures of his journey, she respected him much, and bestowed on him all the enjoyments that heart could wish. Then Nischayadatta told that Vidyádharí the strange story of Somasvámin, who had been transformed into a monkey, and said to her, "If this friend of mine could by any endeavour on your part be freed from his monkey condition, then my beloved, you would have done a good deed." When he told her this, Anurágapará said to him--"This is in the way of witches' spells, but it is not our province. Nevertheless I will accomplish this desire of yours, by asking a friend of mine, a skilful witch named Bhadrarúpá. When the merchant's son heard that, he was delighted, and said to that beloved of his--"So come and see my friend, let us go to visit him." She consented, and the next day, carried in her lap, Nischayadatta went through the air to the wood, which was the residence of his friend. When he saw his friend there in monkey form, he went up to him with his wife, who bowed before him, and asked after his welfare. And the monkey Somasvámin welcomed him, saying--"It is well with me to-day, in that I have beheld you united to Anurágapará," and he gave his blessing to Nischayadatta's wife. Then all three sat down on a charming slab of rock there, and held a conversation [557] about his story, the various adventures of that ape, previously discussed by Nischayadatta with his beloved. Then Nischayadatta took leave of that monkey, and went to the house of his beloved, flying up into the air, carried by her in her arms. And the next day he again said to that Anurágapará, "Come, let us go for a moment to visit that ape our friend;" then she said to him--"Go to-day yourself, receive from me the science of flying up, and also that of descending." When she had said this to him, he took those two sciences, and flew through the air to his friend the ape. And as he remained long conversing with him, Anurágapará went out of the house into the garden. While she was seated there, a certain Vidyádhara youth, who was wandering at will through the air, came there. The Vidyádhara, knowing by his art that she was a Vidyádharí who had a mortal husband, the moment he beheld her, was overpowered with a paroxysm of love, and approached her. And she, with face bent on the ground, beheld that he was handsome and attractive, and slowly asked him out of curiosity, who he was and whence he came. Then he answered her, "Know, fair one, that I am a Vidyádhara, by name Rágabhanjana, distinguished for my knowledge of the sciences of the Vidyádharas. The moment I beheld you, O gazelle-eyed one, I was suddenly overpowered by love, and made your slave, so cease to honour, O goddess, a mortal, whose abode is the earth, and favour me, your equal, before your father finds out your intrigue." When he said this, the fickle-hearted one, looking timidly at him with a sidelong glance, thought--"Here is a fit match for me." When he had thus ascertained her wishes, he made her his wife: when two are of one mind, what more does secret love require? Then Nischayadatta arrived from the presence of Somasvámin, after that Vidyádhara had departed. And when he came, Anurágapará, having lost her love for him, did not embrace him, giving as an excuse that she had a headache. But the simple-minded man, bewildered by love, not seeing through her excuse, thought that her pain was due to illness and spent the day in that belief. But the next day, he again went in low spirits to see his friend the ape, flying through the air by the force of the two sciences he possessed. When he had gone, Anurágapará's Vidyádhara lover returned to her, having spent a sleepless night without her. And embracing round the neck her, who was eager for his arrival owing to having been separated during the night, he was at length overcome by sleep. She by the power of her science concealed her lover, who lay asleep in her lap, and weary with having kept awake all night, went to sleep herself. In the meanwhile Nischayadatta came to the ape, and his friend, welcoming him, asked him--"Why do I seem to see you in low spirits to-day? Tell me." Then Nischayadatta said to that ape, "Anurágapará is exceedingly ill, my friend; for that reason I am grieved, for she is dearer to me than life." Then that ape, who possessed supernatural knowledge, said to him--"Go, take her in your arms asleep as she is, and flying through the air by the help of the science she bestowed, bring her to me, in order that I may this very day shew you a great marvel." When Nischayadatta heard this, he went through the air and lightly took up that sleeping fair, but he did not see that Vidyádhara, who was asleep in her lap, and had been previously made invisible by the power of her science. And flying up into the air, he quickly brought Anurágapará to that ape. That ape, who possessed divine insight, immediately shewed him a charm, by which he was able to behold the Vidyádhara clinging to her neck. When he saw this, he exclaimed--"Alas! what does this mean?" And the ape, who was able to discern the truth, told him the whole story. Then Nischayadatta fell into a passion, and the Vidyádhara, who was the lover of his wife, woke up, and flying up into the air, disappeared. Then Anurágapará woke up, and seeing that her secret was revealed, stood with face cast down through shame. Then Nischayadatta said to her with eyes gushing with tears--"Wicked female, how could you thus deceive me who reposed confidence in you? Although a device is known in this world for fixing that exceedingly fickle metal quicksilver, no expedient is known for fixing the heart of a woman." While he was saying this, Anurágapará, at a loss for an answer, and weeping, slowly soared up into the air, and went to her own home. Then Nischayadatta's friend, the ape, said to him--"That you are grieved is the fruit of the fierce fire of passion, in that you ran after this fair one, though I tried to dissuade you. For what reliance can be placed on fickle fortunes and fickle women? So cease your regret. Be patient now. For even the Disposer himself cannot o'erstep destiny." When Nischayadatta heard this speech from the ape, he flung aside that delusion of grief, and abandoning passion, fled to Siva as his refuge. Then, as he was remaining in that wood with his friend the ape, it happened that a female hermit of the name of Mokshadá came near him. She seeing him bowing before her, proceeded to ask him--"How comes this strange thing to pass that, though a man, you have struck up a friendship with this ape?" Then he related to her his own melancholy story and afterwards the sad tale of his friend, and thereupon thus said to her; "If you, reverend lady, know any incantation or spell by which it can be done, immediately release this excellent Bráhman, my friend, from his ape-transformation." When she heard that, she consented, and employing a spell, she loosed the string from his neck, and Somasvámin abandoned that monkey form and became a man as before. Then she disappeared like lightning, clothed with celestial brightness, and in time Nischayadatta and the Bráhman Somasvámin, having performed many austerities, attained final beatitude. "Thus fair ones, naturally fickle, bring about a series of evil actions which produce true discernment, and aversion to the world. But here and there you will find a virtuous one among them, who adorns a glorious family, as the streak of the moon the broad sky." When Naraváhanadatta, accompanied by Ratnaprabhá, heard this wonderful tale from the mouth of Gomukha, he was highly pleased. CHAPTER XXXVIII. Then Marubhúti, perceiving that Naraváhanadatta was pleased with the tale of Gomukha, in order to rival him, said, "Women are generally fickle, but not always, for even hetæræ are seen to be rich in good qualities, much more others; in proof of this, king, hear this famous tale." Story of king Vikramáditya and the hetæra. There was in Pátaliputra a king named Vikramáditya; he had two cherished friends the king Hayapati, [558] and the king Gajapati, [559] who had large armies of horse and elephants. And that proud sovereign had a mighty enemy named Narasinha [560] the lord of Pratishthána, a king who had a large force of infantry. Being angry with that enemy, and puffed up on account of the power of his allies, Vikramáditya rashly made this vow--"I will so completely conquer that king, the lord of men, that the heralds and bards shall proclaim him at the door as my slave." Having made this vow, he summoned those allies, Hayapati and Gajapati, and accompanied with a large force, shaking the earth with elephants and horses, marched with them to make a fierce attack on the lord of men, Narasinha. When he arrived near Pratishthána, Narasinha, the lord of men, put on his armour and went out to meet him. Then there took place between the two kings a battle that excited wonder, in which footmen fought with elephants and horses. And at last the army of Vikramáditya was routed by the forces of Narasinha, the lord of men, which contained many crores of footmen. And Vikramáditya, being routed, fled to his city Pátaliputra, and his two allies fled to their own countries. And Narasinha, the lord of men, entered his own city Pratishthána, accompanied by heralds who praised his might. Then Vikramáditya, not having gained his end, thought--"Well! as that enemy is not to be conquered by arms, I will conquer him by policy; let some blame me if they like, but let not my oath be made void." Thus reflecting, he entrusted his kingdom to suitable ministers, and secretly went out of the city with one chief minister, named Buddhivara, and with five hundred well-born and brave Rájpúts and in the disguise of a candidate for service, [561] went to Pratishthána, the city of his enemy. There he entered the splendid mansion of a beautiful hetæra named Madanamálá, that resembled the palace of a king. It seemed to invite him with the silk of its banners, hoisted on the pinnacles of high ramparts, the points of which waved to and fro in the soft breeze. It was guarded at the principal entrance, the east door, day and night, by twenty thousand footmen, equipped with all kinds of weapons. At each of the other three doors, looking towards the other cardinal points, it was defended by ten thousand warriors ever on the qui vive. In such guise the king entered, proclaimed by the warders, the enclosure of the palace, which was divided into seven zones. In one zone it was adorned with many long lines of horses. In another the path was impeded by dense troops of elephants. In another it was surrounded with an imposing array of dense weapons. In another it was resplendent with many treasure-houses, that gleamed with the flash of jewels. In another a circle was always formed by a dense crowd of attendants. In another it was full of the noise of many bards reciting aloud, and in another resounding with the sound of drums beaten in concert. Beholding all these sights the king at last reached, with his retinue, the splendid edifice in which Madanamálá dwelt. She having heard with great interest from her attendants that, as he passed through the zones, the horses and other creatures were cured of their wounds, [562] thought that he must be some great one in disguise, and so she went to meet him, and bowed before him with love and curiosity, and bringing him in, seated him on a throne fit for a king. The king's heart was ravished by her beauty, gracefulness and courtesy, and he saluted her without revealing who he was. Then Madanamálá honoured that king with costly baths, flowers, perfumes, garments and ornaments. And she gave daily subsistence to those followers of his, and feasted him and his minister with all kinds of viands. And she spent the day with him in drinking, and other diversions, and surrendered herself to him, having fallen in love with him at first sight. Vikramáditya, being thus entertained by her, day by day, continued, though in disguise, to live in a style suited to an emperor. And whatever and howmuchsoever wealth he was in the habit of giving to suppliants, Madanamálá gladly furnished him with from her own store. And she thought her body and wealth well employed, while enjoyed by him, and she remained averse to gain and to other men. For out of love to him she even kept off by stratagems Narasinha, the king of that land, who came there being enamoured of her. While the king was being waited on in this fashion by Madanamálá, he one day said in secret to his minister Buddhivara, who accompanied him, "A hetæra desires wealth, and not even if she feels love, does she become attached without it, for when Providence framed suitors, he bestowed greed on these women. But this Madanamálá, though her wealth is being consumed by me, through her great love is not estranged from me, on the contrary she delights in me. So how can I now make her a recompense, in order that my vow may in course of time be fully accomplished?" When the minister Buddhivara heard this, he said to the king; "If this be so, give her some of those priceless jewels which the mendicant Prapanchabuddhi gave you." When the king heard that, he answered him, "If I were to give them all to her, I should not have made her a recompense worth speaking of; but I can free myself from obligation in another way, which is connected also with the story of that mendicant." When the minister heard this, he said--"King, why did that mendicant court you? Tell me his story." When his minister Buddhivara proffered this request, the king said, "Listen: I will tell you his story." Story of king Vikramáditya and the treacherous mendicant. Long ago a mendicant named Prapanchabuddhi used to enter my hall of audience in Pátaliputra every day and give me a box. For a whole year I gave these boxes, just as they were, unopened into the hand of my treasurer. One day, one of those boxes presented by the mendicant by chance fell from my hand on to the ground, and burst open. And a great jewel fell out of it, glittering like fire, and it appeared as if it were the mendicant's heart which I had not discerned before, revealed by him. When I saw that, I took it, and I had those other boxes brought which he had presented to me, and opened them, and took a jewel out of every one of them. Then in astonishment I asked Prapanchabuddhi--"Why do you court me with such splendid jewels?" Then that mendicant took me aside, and said to me--"On the fourteenth day of the black fortnight now approaching I have to perform a certain incantation at night-fall, in a cemetery outside this town. I desire you, my hero, to come and take part in that enterprise, for success is easily obtained, when the obstacles to it are swept away by the aid of a hero." When the mendicant said this to me, I agreed. So he went off delighted, and in a few days the fourteenth night of the black fortnight came, and I remembered the speech of that ascetic. [563] Then I performed my daily observances, and waited for the night, and after I had recited the evening prayer, it happened that I rapidly fell asleep. Then the adorable Hari, who is compassionate to his votaries, appeared to me in a dream, mounted on Garuda, with his breast marked with a lotus, and thus commanded me--"My son, this Prapanchabuddhi [564] is rightly named, for he will inveigle you into the cemetery to take part in the incantation of the circle, [565] and will offer you up as a victim. So do not do what he tells you to do with the object of slaying you, but say to him--'You do it first, and when I have learned the way, I will do it.' Then, as he is shewing you the way, take advantage of the opportunity, and slay him immediately, and you will acquire the power that he desires to obtain." When Vishnu had said this, he disappeared, and I woke up and thought--"By the favour of Hari I have detected that magician, and this day I must slay him." Having thus reflected, when the first watch of the night was gone, I went, sword in hand, alone to that cemetery. There I beheld that mendicant, who had performed the ceremony of the circle incantation, and when the treacherous fellow saw me, he welcomed me, and said, "King, close your eyes, and fall at full length on the ground with your face downwards, and in this way both of us will attain our ends." Then I answered him--"Do it yourself first. Shew me how to do it, and, after I have learned, I will do precisely as you do." When the mendicant heard that, like a fool, he fell on the earth, and I cut off his head with a stroke of my sword. [566] Then a voice was heard from the air--"Bravo, king! By offering up to-day this rascally mendicant thou hast obtained the power of going through the air, which he wished to obtain. I, the god of wealth, that move about at will, am pleased with thy courage. So, ask me for another boon, whatever thou mayest desire." After saying this, he manifested himself, and I, bowing before him, said,--"When I shall supplicate thee, adorable one, thou shalt appear on my thinking of thee, and grant me a suitable boon." The god of wealth said--"So be it"--and disappeared. And having obtained magic power, I went back quickly to my own palace. Thus I have told you my adventure, so by means of that boon of Kuvera I must now recompense Madanamálá. And you must now go back to Pátaliputra, taking with you my disguised Rájpút retinue, and I, as soon as I have in a novel way recompensed my beloved, will immediately go there, with the intention of returning here." Having said this, and having performed his daily duties, the king dismissed his minister with his retinue. He said, "So be it" and departed, and the king spent that night with Madanamálá, anxious about his approaching separation. She too, embracing him frequently, because her heart seemed to tell her that he was going to a distance, did not sleep all that night. In the morning the king, having performed all his necessary duties, entered a chapel for the daily worship of the gods, on the pretence of repeating prayers. And there the god of wealth appeared before him on his thinking of him, and bowing before him the king craved that boon formerly promised, in the following words--"O god, give me here to-day in accordance with that boon, which you promised me, five great indestructible golden figures of men, such that, though their limbs may be continually cut off for any desired use, those very limbs will grow again, exactly as before." The god of wealth said, "Even so; be there unto thee five such figures as thou desirest!" Having said this, he immediately disappeared. And the king immediately beheld those five great golden figures of men suddenly standing in the chapel; then he went out delighted, and not forgetting his promise, he flew up into the air and went to his city of Pátaliputra. There he was welcomed by his ministers, and the citizens and his wives, and he remained engaged in his kingly duties, while his heart was far away in Pratishthána. In the meanwhile, in Pratishthána, that beloved of his entered that chapel to see her love, who had entered it long before. And when she entered, she did not perceive that beloved king anywhere, but she beheld five gigantic golden figures of men. When she saw them, and did not find him, she reflected in her grief--"Surely that love of mine was some Vidyádhara or Gandharva, who bestowed upon me these men and flew away up to heaven. "So what am I to do with these figures, which are all a mere burden, now that I am deprived of him?" Thus reflecting she asked her servants over and over again for news of him, and went out and roamed all about her domain. And she found no satisfaction anywhere, either in the palaces, the gardens, the chambers or other places, but she kept lamenting, grieved at being separated from her lover, ready to abandon the body. Her attendants tried to comfort her, saying, "Do not despair, mistress, for he is some god roaming about at will, and when he pleases, he will return to you, fair one." With such hope-inspiring words did they at length so far console her that she made this vow--"If in six months he does not grant me to behold him, I will give away all my property and enter the fire." With this promise she fortified herself, and remained every day giving alms, thinking on that beloved of hers. And one day, she cut off both the arms of one of those golden men, and gave them to the Bráhmans, being intent on charity only. And the next day she perceived with astonishment that both arms had grown again, exactly as they were before. Then she proceeded to cut off the arms of the others, to give them away, and the arms of all of them grew again as they were before. Then she saw that they were indestructible, and every day she cut off the arms of the figures and gave them to studious Bráhmans, according to the number of the Vedas they had read. And in a few days a Bráhman, named Sangrámadatta, having heard the fame of her bounty, which was spread abroad in every direction, came from Pátaliputra. He being poor, but acquainted with four Vedas, and endowed with virtues, entered into her presence desiring a gift, being announced by the door-keepers. She gave him as many arms of the golden figures as he knew Vedas, after bowing before him with limbs emaciated with her vow and pale with separation from her beloved. Then the Bráhman, having heard from her sorrow-stricken attendants the whole of her story, ending in that very terrible vow, was delighted, but at the same time despondent, and loading two camels with those golden arms went to his native city, Pátaliputra. Then that Bráhman, thinking that his gold would not be safe there, unless guarded by the king, entered the king's presence and said to him, while he was sitting in the hall of judgment; "Here I am, O great king, a Bráhman who am an inhabitant of thy town. I, being poor, and desiring wealth, went to the southern clime, and arrived at a city named Pratishthána, belonging to king Narasinha. There, being desirous of a donation, I went to the house of Madanamálá, a hetæra of distinguished fame. For with her there lived long some divine being, who departed somewhere or other, after giving her five indestructible figures of men. Then the high-spirited woman became afflicted at his departure, and considering life to be poison-agony, and the body, that fruitless accumulation of delusion, to be merely a punishment for thieving, lost her patience, and being with difficulty consoled by her attendants made this vow--"If in the space of six months he does not visit me, I must enter the fire, my soul being smitten by adversity." Having made this vow she, being resolved on death, and desiring to perform good actions, gives away every day very large gifts. And I beheld her, king, with tottering feet, conspicuous for the beauty of her person, though it was thin from fasting; with hand moistened with the water of giving, surrounded with maids like clustering bees, sorely afflicted, looking like the incarnation of the mast condition of the elephant of love. [567] And I think that lover who deserts her, and causes by his absence that fair one to abandon the body, deserves blame, indeed deserves death. She to-day gave to me, who know the four Vedas, four golden arms of human figures, according to right usage, proportioning her gift to the number of my Vedas. So I wish to purify my house with sacrifice, and to follow a life of religion here; therefore let the king grant me protection." The king Vikramáditya, hearing these tidings of his beloved from the mouth of the Bráhman, had his mind suddenly turned towards her. And he commanded his door-keeper to do what the Bráhman wished, and thinking how constant was the affection of his mistress, who valued her life as stubble, and in his impatience supposing that she would be able to assist him in accomplishing his vow, and remembering that the time fixed for her abandoning the body had almost arrived, he quickly committed his kingdom to the care of his ministers, and flying through the air reached Pratishthána, and entered the house of his beloved. There he beheld his beloved, with raiment pellucid like the moonlight, having given her wealth away to Pandits, [568] attenuated like a digit of the moon at the time of its change. Madanamálá, for her part, on beholding him arrived unexpectedly, the quintessence of nectar to her eyes, was for a moment like one amazed. Then she embraced him, and threw round his neck the noose of her arms, as if fearing that he would escape again. And she said to him with a voice, the accents of which were choked with tears, "Cruel one, why did you depart and forsake my innocent self?" The king said, "Come, I will tell you in private," and went inside with her, welcomed by her attendants. There he revealed to her who he was, and described his circumstances, how he came there to conquer king Narasinha by an artifice, and how, after slaying Prapanchabuddhi, he acquired the power of flying in the air, and how he was enabled to reward her by a boon that he obtained from the lord of wealth, and how, hearing tidings of her from a Bráhman, he had returned there. Having told the whole story beginning with the subject of his vow, he again said to her--"So my beloved, that king Narasinha, being very mighty, is not to be conquered by armies, and he contended with me in single combat, but I did not slay him, for I possess the power of flying in the air, and he can only go on the earth, for who, that is a true Kshatriya, would desire to conquer in an unfair combat? The object of my vow is, that that king may be announced by the heralds as waiting at the door; do you assist me in that?" When the hetæra heard this, she said, "I am honoured by your request," and summoning her heralds she said to them--"When the king Narasinha shall come to my house, you must stand near the door with attentive eyes, and while he is entering, you must say again and again--"King, prince Narasinha is loyal and devoted to thee." And when he looks up and asks--"Who is here?"--you must immediately say to him--"Vikramáditya is here." After giving them these orders, she dismissed them, and then she said to the female warder--"You must not prevent king Narasinha from entering here." After issuing these orders, Madanamálá remained in a state of supreme felicity, having regained the lord of her life, and gave away her wealth fearlessly. Then king Narasinha, having heard of that profuse liberality of hers, which was due to her possession of the golden figures, though he had given her up, came to visit her house. And while he entered, not being forbidden by the warder, all the heralds shouted in a loud voice, beginning at the outer door, "King, prince Narasinha is submissive and devoted." When that sovereign heard that, he was angry and alarmed, and when he asked who was there, and found out that king Vikramáditya was there, he waited a moment and went through the following reflections; "So this king has forced his way into my kingdom, and carried out the vow he made long ago, that I should be announced at his door. In truth this king is a man of might, since he has thus beaten me to-day. And I must not slay him by force, since he has come alone to a house in my dominions. So I had better enter now." Having thus reflected, king Narasinha entered, announced by all the heralds. And king Vikramáditya, on beholding him enter with a smile on his face, rose up also with smiling countenance and embraced him. Then those two kings sat down and enquired after one another's welfare, while Madanamálá stood by their side. And in the course of conversation Narasinha asked Vikramáditya where he had obtained those golden figures. Then Vikramáditya told him the whole of that strange adventure of his, how he had slain the base ascetic, and acquired the power of flying through the air, and how, by virtue of the boon of the god of wealth, he had obtained five indestructible gigantic golden figures. Then king Narasinha chose that king for his friend, discovering that he was of great might, that he possessed the power of flying, and that he had a good heart. And having made him his friend, he welcomed him with the prescribed rites of hospitality, and taking him to his own palace, he entertained him with all the attentions paid to himself. And king Vikramáditya, after having been thus honoured, was dismissed by him, and returned to the house of Madanamálá. Then Vikramáditya, having accomplished his difficult vow by his courage and intelligence, determined to go to his own city. And Madanamálá, being unable to remain separated from him, was eager to accompany him, and with the intention of abandoning her native land, she bestowed her dwelling upon the Bráhmans. Then Vikramáditya, the moon of kings, went with her, whose mind was exclusively fixed on him, to his own city of Pátaliputra, followed by her elephants, horses, and footmen. There he remained in happiness, (accompanied by Madanamálá, who had abandoned her own country for his love,) having formed an alliance with king Narasinha. "Thus, king, even hetæræ are occasionally of noble character and as faithful to kings as their own wives, much more then matrons of high birth." On hearing this noble tale from the mouth of Marubhúti, the king Naraváhanadatta, and his new wife Ratnaprabhá sprung from the glorious race of the Vidyádharas, were much delighted. CHAPTER XXXIX. When Marubhúti had told this story there, the commander-in-chief Harisikha said in the presence of Naraváhanadatta--"It is true, good women value nothing more than their husbands, and in proof of it, listen now to this still more wonderful tale." Story of Sringabhuja and the daughter of the Rákshasa. There is a city on the earth named Vardhamána, and in it there dwelt a king named Vírabhuja, chief of righteous men. And though he had a hundred wives, one queen of the name of Gunavará was dearer to him than his life. And in spite of his hundred wives, it happened, as Fate would have it, that not one of them bore him a son. So he asked a physician named Srutavardhana--"Is there any medicine able to bring about the birth of a son?" When the physician heard that, he said--"King, I can prepare such a medicine, [569] but the king must procure for me a wild goat." When he heard this speech of the physician's, the king gave an order to the warder, and had a goat brought for him from the forest. The physician handed over the goat to the king's cooks, and with its flesh prepared a sovereign elixir for the queens. The king went off to worship his god, after ordering the queens to assemble in one place. And ninety-nine of those queens did assemble in one place, but the queen Gunavará alone was not present there, for she was at that time near the king, who was engaged in praying to his god. And when they had assembled, the physician gave them the whole of the elixir to drink mixed with powder, not perceiving the absence of Gunavará. Immediately the king returned with his beloved, having performed his devotions, and perceiving that that drug was completely finished, he said to the physician--"What! did you not keep any for Gunavará? You have forgotten the principal object with which this was undertaken." After saying this to the abashed physician, the king said to the cooks--"Is there any of the flesh of that goat left?" The cooks said, "The horns only remain." Then the physician said, "Bravo! I can make an admirable elixir out of the centre of the horns." After saying this, the physician had an elixir prepared from the fleshy part of the horns, and gave it to queen Gunavará mixed with powder. Then the ninety-nine wives of the king became pregnant, and all in time brought forth sons. But the head queen Gunavará conceived last of all, and afterwards gave birth to a son with more auspicious marks than the sons of all the others. And as he was sprung from the juice of the fleshy part of the horns, his father, the king, gave him the name of Sringabhuja, and rejoiced greatly at his birth. He grew up with those other brothers, and though in age he was the youngest of all, he was superior to all in good qualities. And in course of time that prince became like the god of Love in beauty, and like Arjuna in his skill in archery, and like Bhíma in strength. Accordingly the other queens, seeing that queen Gunavará, now that she had this son, was more than ever dear to king Vírabhuja, became jealous of her. Then an evil-minded queen among them, named Ayasolekhá, deliberated with all the others and entered into a conspiracy; and when the king came home one day, she exhibited an assumed sadness in her face. The king asked her the reason, and she said with apparent reluctance--"My husband, why do you endure patiently the disgrace of your house? you avert disgrace from others, why do you not avert it from yourself? You know the young superintendent of the women's apartments named Surakshita; your queen Gunavará is secretly devoted to him. Since no man but he can penetrate into the women's apartments, which are strictly watched by guards, she associates with him. And this is a well-known subject of gossip in the whole harem." When she said this to the king, he pondered and reflected; and went and asked the other queens one after another in private, and they were faithful to their treacherous plot, and told him the same story. Then that wise king conquered his anger, and reflected--"This accusation against these two is improbable, and yet such is the gossip. So I must not without reflecting reveal the matter to any one; but they must by an artifice be separated now, to enable me to see the termination of the whole matter." Having determined on this, next day he summoned Surakshita, the superintendent of the womens' apartments, into his judgment-hall, and with assumed anger, said to him--"I have learned, villain, that you have slain a Bráhman, so I cannot endure to see your face until you have made a pilgrimage to holy places." When he heard that, he was amazed and began to murmur--"How can I have slain a Bráhman, my sovereign?" But the king went on to say; "Do not attempt to brazen it out, but go to Kásmír to wash away your sin, (where are those holy fields, Vijayakshetra, and Nandikshetra the purifying, and the kshetra [570] of the Boar), the land which was hallowed by Vishnu the bow-handed god, where the stream of the Ganges bears the name of Vitastá, where is the famous Mandapakshetra, and where is Uttaramánasa; when your sin has been washed away by a pilgrimage to these holy places, you shall behold my face again, but not till then." With this speech the king Vírabhuja dismissed the helpless Surakshita, sending him to a distance on the pretence of a pilgrimage to holy places. Then the king went into the presence of that queen Gunavará, full of love and anger and sober reflection. Then she, seeing that his mind was troubled, asked him anxiously, "My husband, why are you seized to-day with a sudden fit of despondency?" When the king heard that, he gave her this feigned answer--"To-day, queen, a great astrologer came to me and said--'King, you must place the queen Gunavará for some time in a dungeon, and you must yourself live a life of chastity, otherwise your kingdom will certainly be overthrown, and she will surely die.' Having said this, the astrologer departed; hence my present despondency." When the king said this, the queen Gunavará, who was devoted to her husband, distracted with fear and love, said to him--"Why do you not cast me this very day into a dungeon, my husband? I am highly favoured, if I can benefit you even at the sacrifice of my life. Let me die, but let not my lord have misfortune. For a husband is the chief refuge of wives in this world and in the next." Having heard this speech of hers, the king said to himself with tears in his eyes; "I think there is no guilt in her, nor in that Surakshita, for I saw that the colour of his face did not change, and he seemed without fear. Alas! nevertheless I must ascertain the truth of that rumour." After reflecting thus, the king in his grief said to the queen--"Then it is best that a dungeon should be made here, queen!" She replied--"Very good"--so the king had a dungeon easy of access made in the women's apartments, and placed the queen in it. And he comforted her son Sringabhuja, (who was in despair and asked the reason,) by telling him exactly what he told the queen. And she, for her part, thought the dungeon heaven, because it was all for the king's good. For good women have no pleasure of their own; to them their husbands' pleasure is pleasure. [571] When this had been done, that other wife of the king's, named Ayasolekhá, said of her own accord to her son, who was named Nirvásabhuja,--"So, our enemy Gunavará has been thrown into a dungeon, and it would be a good thing if her son were banished from this country. So, my boy, devise a scheme with the help of your other brothers by which Sringabhuja may be quickly banished from the country." Having been addressed in this language by his mother, the jealous Nirvásabhuja told his other brothers, and continued to ponder over a scheme. And one day, as the king's sons were practising with their weapons of war, they all saw an enormous crane in front of the palace. And while they were looking with astonishment at that misshapen bird, a Buddhist mendicant, who possessed supernatural knowledge, came that way and said to them--"Princes, this is not a crane, it is a Rákshasa named Agnisikha, who wanders about in an assumed shape destroying towns. So pierce him with an arrow, that being smitten he may depart hence." When they heard this speech of the mendicant's, the ninety-nine elder brothers shot their arrows, but not one struck the crane. Then that naked mendicant again said to them--"This younger brother of yours, named Sringabhuja, is able to strike this crane, so let him take a bow suitable for the purpose." When Nirvásabhuja heard that, the treacherous one remembered the injunction of his mother, an opportunity for carrying out which had now arrived, and reflected--"This will be a means of getting Sringabhuja out of the country. [572] So let us give him the bow and arrow belonging to our father. If the crane is pierced and goes off with our father's golden arrow sticking in it, Sringabhuja will follow it, while we are searching for the arrow. And when he does not find, in spite of his search, that Rákshasa transformed into a crane, he will continue to roam about hither and thither, he will not come back without the arrow." Thus reflecting, the treacherous one gave to Sringabhuja his father's bow with the arrow, in order that he might smite the crane. The mighty prince took it and drew it, and pierced that crane with the golden arrow, the notch of which was made of a jewel. The crane, as soon as it was pierced, went off with the arrow sticking in its body, and flying away departed with drops of blood falling from the wound. Then the treacherous Nirvásabhuja and the other brothers, instigated by his hints, said to the brave Sringabhuja--"Give us back the golden arrow that belongs to our father, otherwise we will abandon our bodies before your eyes. For unless we produce it, our father will banish us from this country, and its fellow is not to be made or obtained." When Sringabhuja heard that, he said to those crafty ones--"Be of good cheer! Do not be afraid--Abandon your terror! I will go and slay that miserable Rákshasa and bring back the arrow." Having said this, Sringabhuja took his own bow and arrows, and went in the same direction in which the Rákshasa had gone, quickly following up the track of the drops of blood, that had fallen on the ground. The other sons returned delighted to their mothers, and Sringabhuja, as he went on step by step, at last reached a distant forest. Seeking about in it, he found in the wood a great city, like the fruit of his own tree of merit fallen to him in due time for enjoyment. There he sat down at the root of a tree to rest, and as if in a moment beheld a maiden of wonderful beauty coming there, appearing to have been made by the Creator in some strange way of ambrosia and poison; since by her absence she deprived of life, and by her presence she bestowed it. And when the maiden slowly approached him, and looked at him with an eye raining love, the prince fell in love with her and said to her--"Gazelle-eyed one, what is the name of this city, and to whom does it belong? Who are you, and why have you come here? tell me." Then the pearly-toothed maid turned her face sideways, and fixed her eye on the ground, and spake to him with sweet and loving voice--"This city is Dhúmapura, the home of all felicity; in it lives a mighty Rákshasa by name Agnisikha; know that I am his matchless daughter, Rúpasikhá by name, who have come here with mind captivated by your unparalleled beauty. Now you must tell me who you are, and why you have come here." When she said this, he told her who he was, and of what king he was the son, and how he had come to Dhúmapura for the sake of an arrow. Then Rúpasikhá, having heard the whole story, said--"There is no archer like you in the three worlds, since you pierced even my father with a great arrow, when he was in the form of a crane. And I took that golden arrow for my own, by way of a plaything. But my father's wound was at once healed by the minister Mahádanshtra, who excels all men in knowledge of potent drugs for curing wounds. So I will go to my father, and after I have explained the whole matter, I will quickly introduce you into his presence, my husband; so I call you, for my heart is now fully set upon you." Having said this, Rúpasikhá left Sringabhuja there, and immediately went into the presence of her father Agnisikha, and said--"Father, there has come here a wonderful prince named Sringabhuja, matchless for gifts of beauty, birth, character and age. I feel certain that he is not a man, he is some portion of a god incarnate here below, so, if he does not become my husband, I will certainly abandon my life." When she said this to him, her father the Rákshasa said to her--"My daughter, men are our appropriate food, nevertheless, if your heart is set upon it, let it be so; bring your prince here, and shew him to me." When Rúpasikhá heard that, she went to Sringabhuja, and after telling him what she had done, she took him into the presence of her father. He prostrated himself, and Agnisikha, the father of the maiden, after saluting him courteously, said to him--"Prince, I will give you my daughter Rúpasikhá, if you never disobey my orders." When he said this, Sringabhuja, bending low, answered him--"Good! I will never disobey your orders." When Sringabhuja said this to him, Agnisikha was pleased and answered--"Rise up! Go and bathe, and return here from the bath-room." After saying this to him, he said to his daughter--"Go and bring all your sisters here quickly." When Agnisikha had given these orders to Sringabhuja and Rúpasikhá, they both of them went out, after promising to obey them. Then the wise Rúpasikhá said to Sringabhuja--"My husband, I have a hundred sisters, who are princesses, and we are all exactly alike, with similar ornaments and dresses, and all of us have similar necklaces upon our necks. So our father will assemble us in one place, and in order to bewilder you, will say 'Choose your own love out of the midst of these.' For I know that such is his treacherous intention, otherwise why is he assembling all of us here. So when we are assembled, I will put my necklace on my head instead of my neck, by that sign you will recognise me; then throw over my neck the garland of forest flowers. And this father of mine is somewhat silly, he has not a discerning intellect; besides what is the use against me of those powers which he possesses by being a Rákshasa? So, whatever he says to entrap you, you must agree to, and must tell it to me, and I shall know well enough what further steps to take." Having said this, Rúpasikhá went to her sisters, and Sringabhuja, having agreed to do what she said, went to bathe. Then Rúpasikhá came with her sisters into the presence of her father, and Sringabhuja returned, after he had been washed by a female servant. Then Agnisikha gave a garland of forest flowers to Sringabhuja, saying, "Give this to that one of these ladies, who is your own love." He took the garland and threw it round the neck of Rúpasikhá, [573] who had previously placed the necklace on her head by way of token. Then Agnisikha said to Rúpasikhá and Sringabhuja,--"I will celebrate your marriage ceremony to-morrow morning." Having said this, he dismissed those two lovers and his other daughters to their apartments, and in a short time he summoned Sringabhuja and said this to him; "Take this yoke of oxen, and go outside this town, and sow in the earth the hundred khárís [574] of sesame-seed which are piled there in a heap." When Sringabhuja heard that, he was troubled, and he went and told it to Rúpasikhá, and she answered him as follows--"My husband, you need not be in the least despondent about this, go there at once; I will easily perform this by my magic power." When he heard this, the prince went there, and, seeing the sesame-seeds in a heap, despondently began to plough the land and sow them, but while he was beginning, he saw the land ploughed and all the seeds sown in due course by the might of his lady-love's magic power, and he was much astonished. So he went to Agnisikha, and told him that this task was accomplished; then that treacherous Rákshasa again said to him--"I do not want the seeds sown, go and pile them up again in a heap." When he heard that, he again went and told Rúpasikhá. She sent him to that field, and created innumerable ants, [575] and by her magic power made them gather together the sesame-seeds. When Sringabhuja saw that, he went and told Agnisikha that the seeds had been piled up again in a heap. Then the cunning but stupid Agnisikha said to him--"Only two yojanas from this place, in a southerly direction, there is an empty temple of Siva in a wood. In it lives my dear brother Dhúmasikha--go there at once, and say this in front of the temple, 'Dhúmasikha, I am sent by Agnisikha as a messenger to invite you and your retinue: come quickly, for to-morrow the ceremony of Rúpasikhá's marriage is to take place.' Having said this, come back here to-day with speed, and to-morrow marry my daughter Rúpasikhá." When Sringabhuja was thus addressed by the rascal, he said--"So be it"--and went and recounted the whole to Rúpasikhá. The good girl gave him some earth, some water, some thorns, and some fire, and her own fleet horse, and said to him--"Mount this horse and go to that temple, and quickly repeat that invitation to Dhúmasikha as it was told to you, and then you must at once return on this horse at full gallop, and you must often turn your head and look round; and if you see Dhúmasikha coming after you, you must throw this earth behind you in his way; if in spite of that, Dhúmasikha pursues you, you must in the same manner fling the water behind you in his path; if in spite of that he comes on, you must in like manner throw these thorns in his way. If in spite of them he pursues, throw this fire in his way; and if you do this, you will return here without the Daitya; so do not hesitate--go, you shall to-day behold the power of my magic."--When she said this to him, Sringabhuja took the earth and the other things and said, "I will do so," and mounting her horse went to the temple in the wood. There he saw an image of Siva, with one of Párvatí on his left and one of Ganesa on his right, and, after bowing before the Lord of the Universe, [576] he quickly addressed to Dhúmasikha the form of invitation told him by Agnisikha, and fled from the place at full speed, urging on his horse. And he soon turned his head and looked round, and he beheld Dhúmasikha coming after him. And he quickly threw that earth behind him in his way, and the earth, so flung, immediately produced a great mountain. When he saw that the Rákshasa had, though with difficulty, climbed over that mountain, and was coming on, the prince in the same way threw the water behind him. That produced a great river in his path with rolling waves: the Rákshasa with difficulty got across it and was coming on, when Sringabhuja quickly strewed those thorns behind him. They produced a dense thorny wood in Dhúmasikha's path. When the Rákshasa emerged from it, the prince threw the fire behind him, which set on fire the path with the herbs and the trees. When Dhúmasikha saw that the fire was hard to cross, like Khándava, [577] he returned home, tired and terrified. For on that occasion the Rákshasa was so bewildered by the magic of Rúpasikhá that he went and returned on his feet, he did not think of flying through the air. Then Sringabhuja returned to Dhúmapura, free from fear, commending in his heart that display of his love's magic power. He gave up the horse to the delighted Rúpasikhá, and related his adventure, and then went in to the presence of Agnisikha. He said, "I went and invited your brother Dhúmasikha." When he said this, Agnisikha being perplexed, said to him--"If you really went there, mention some peculiarity of the place." When the crafty Rákshasa said this to Sringabhuja, he answered him--"Listen, I will tell you a token: in that temple there is a figure of Párvatí on the left side of Siva, and of Ganesa on his right." When Agnisikha heard that, he was astonished and thought for a moment--"What! did he go there, and was my brother not able to devour him? Then he cannot be a mere man, he must be a god, so let him marry my daughter, as he is a fitting match for her." After thus reflecting, he sent Sringabhuja as a successful suitor to Rúpasikhá, but he never suspected that there was a traitor in his own family. So Sringabhuja went, eager for his marriage, and after eating and drinking with her, managed somehow to get through the night. And the next morning Agnisikha gave to him Rúpasikhá with all the magnificence appropriate to his magic power, according to due form, in the presence of the fire. Little in common have Rákshasas' daughters and princes, and strange the union of such! Wonderful indeed are the results of our deeds in a previous state of existence! The prince, after he had obtained that beloved daughter of the Rákshasa, seemed like a swan who had got hold of a soft lotus, sprung from mud. And he remained there with her, who was devoted to him alone, enjoying various dainty delights provided by the magic power of the Rákshasa. When some days had passed there, he said in secret to the Rákshasa's daughter, "Come, my beloved, let us return to the city of Vardhamána. For that is my capital city, and I cannot endure to be banished from my capital city by my enemies, for people like myself hold honour dear as life. So leave for my sake the land of your birth, though it is hard to leave; inform your father, and bring that golden arrow in your hand." When Sringabhuja said this to Rúpasikhá, she answered--"I must immediately obey your command. I care not for the land of my birth, nor for my relatives, you are all those to me. [578] Good women have no other refuge than their husbands. But it will never do to communicate our intention to my father, for he would not let us go. So we must depart without that hot-tempered father of mine knowing of it. And if he hears from the attendants and comes after us, I will bewilder him by my knowledge, for he is senseless and like an idiot." When he heard this speech of hers, he set out delighted on the next day, with her who gave him the half of her kingdom, and filled a casket with priceless jewels, and brought that golden arrow; and they both mounted her splendid horse Saravega, [579] having deceived the attendants by representing that they were going for a pleasure excursion in the park, and journeyed towards Vardhamána. When the couple had gone a long distance, the Rákshasa Agnisikha found it out, and in wrath pursued after them through the air. And hearing afar off the noise produced by the speed of his flight, Rúpasikhá said to Sringabhuja on the road, "My husband, my father has come to make us turn back, so remain here without fear: see how I will deceive him. For he shall neither see you nor the horse, since I shall conceal both by my deluding power." After saying this, she got down from the horse and assumed by her deluding power the form of a man. [580] And she said to a woodcutter, who had come to the forest to cut wood--"A great Rákshasa is coming here, so remain quiet for a moment." Then she continued to cut wood with his axe. And Sringabhuja looked on with a smile on his face. In the meanwhile that foolish Rákshasa arrived there, and lighted down from the air, on beholding his daughter in the shape of a woodcutter, and asked her whether she had seen a man and woman pass that way. [581] Then his daughter, who had assumed the form of a man, said with great effort as if tired, "We two have not seen any couple, as our eyes are fatigued with toil, for we two woodcutters have been occupied here in cutting a great quantity of wood to burn Agnisikha the king of the Rákshasas, who is dead." When that silly Rákshasa heard that, he thought, "What! am I dead? What then does that daughter matter to me? I will go and ask my own attendants at home whether I am dead or not." [582] Thus reflecting, Agnisikha went quickly home, and his daughter set out with her husband as before, laughing as she went. And soon the Rákshasa returned in high spirits, for he had asked his attendants, who could not help laughing in their sleeves, whether he was alive, and had learned that he was. Then Rúpasikhá, knowing from the terrible noise that he was coming again, though as yet far off, got down from the horse and concealed her husband as before by her deluding power, and taking letters from the hand of a letter-carrier, who was coming along the road, she again assumed the form of a man. And so the Rákshasa arrived as before, and asked his daughter, who was disguised as a man--"Did you see a man and a woman on the road?" Then she, disguised as a man, answered him with a sigh,--"I beheld no such person, for my mind was absorbed with my haste, for Agnisikha, who was to-day mortally wounded in battle, and has only a little breath left in his body, and is in his capital desiring to make over his kingdom, has despatched me as a messenger to summon to his presence his brother Dhúmasikha, who is living an independent life." When Agnisikha heard that, he said, "What! am I mortally wounded by my enemies?" And in his perplexity he returned again home to get information on the point. But it never occurred to him to say to himself--"Who is mortally wounded? Here I am safe and sound." Strange are the fools that the Creator produces, and wonderfully obscured with the quality of darkness! And when he arrived at home and found that the tale was false, he would not expose himself again to the laughter of the people, tired of being imposed upon, and forgetting his daughter. And Rúpasikhá, after deluding him, returned to her husband as before, for virtuous women know of no other good than the good of their husbands. Then Sringabhuja, mounted on the wonderful horse, again proceeded rapidly with his wife towards the city of Vardhamána. Then his father Vírabhuja, having heard that he was returning in company with her, went out much pleased to meet him. The king, when he saw him adorned with that wife, like Krishna with Bhámá, considered that he had gained afresh the bliss of sovereign sway. And when his son got down from his horse, and clung to his feet with his beloved, he raised him up and embraced him, and with his eye, in which stood the water of joyful tears, performed in noble wise the auspicious ceremony that put an end to his own despondency, and then conducted him into his palace, making high festival. And when he asked his son where he had been, Sringabhuja told him his whole history from the beginning. And after summoning his brothers, Nirvásabhuja and all, into his father's presence, he gave them the golden arrow. Then the king Vírabhuja, after what he had heard and seen, was displeased with those other sons, and considered Sringabhuja his only true son. Then that wise king drew this true conclusion--"I suspect that, as this son of mine out of spite was banished by these enemies, brothers only in name, though he was all the while innocent, so his mother Gunavará, whom I love so well, was falsely accused by their mothers, and was all the while innocent. So what is the use of delay? I will find out the truth of it immediately." [583] After these reflections, the king spent that day in performing his duties, and went at night to sift his other wife Ayasolekhá. She was delighted to see him, and he made her drink a great quantity of wine, and she in her sleep murmured out, while the king was awake--"If we had not falsely slandered Gunavará, would the king ever have visited me here?" [584] When the king heard this speech of the wicked queen uttered in her sleep, he felt he had attained certainty, and rose up in wrath and went out; and going to his own chamber, he had the eunuchs summoned, and said to them; "Take that Gunavará out of the dungeon, and after she has bathed bring her quickly; for the present moment was appointed by the astrologer as the limit of her stay in the dungeon for the purpose of averting the evil omens." When they heard that, they said, "So be it," and they went and quickly brought the queen Gunavará into the presence of the king, bathed and adorned. Then that wedded pair, happy in having crossed the sea of separation, spent that night unsated with mutual embraces. Then the king related to the queen with delight that adventure of Sringabhuja's, and told his son the circumstances of his mother's imprisonment and release. In the meanwhile Ayasolekhá, waking up, found out that the king was gone, and guessing that he had entrapped her with his conversation, fell into deep despondency. And in the morning the king Vírabhuja conducted his son Sringabhuja, with his wife Rúpasikhá, into the presence of Gunavará. He came, and was delighted to behold his mother emerged from the dungeon, and with his new wife he worshipped the feet of his parents. Gunavará, embracing her son, who had returned from his journey, and her daughter-in-law, obtained in the way above related, went from joy to joy. Then by the order of his father, Sringabhuja related to her at length his own adventure, and what Rúpasikhá did. Then queen Gunavará delighted, said to him, "My son, what has not that Rúpasikhá done for you? For she, a heroine of wonderful exploits, has given up and sacrificed for you her life, her family, her native land, these three. She must be some goddess, become incarnate for your sake by the appointment of Destiny. For she has placed her foot on the head of all women that are devoted to their husbands." When the queen had said this, the king applauded her speech, and so did Rúpasikhá with head modestly bent. Just at that moment the superintendent of the womens' apartments, Surakshita, who had been long ago slandered by that Ayasolekhá, returned from visiting all the holy bathing places. He was announced by the door-keeper, and bowed delighted at the king's foot, and then the king, who now knew the facts, honoured him exceedingly. And by his mouth he summoned the other queens who were wicked, and said to him--"Go! fling all these into the dungeon." When the queen Gunavará heard that, and the terrified women were thrown into the dungeon, she said out of compassion to the king, clinging to his feet, "King, do not keep them for a long time in the dungeon! Have mercy, for I cannot bear to see them terrified." By thus entreating the king she prevented their imprisonment, for the only vengeance that the great make use of against their enemies is compassion. Then those queens, dismissed by the king, went ashamed to their houses, and would even have preferred to have been in the embrace of death. And the king thought highly of the great-hearted Gunavará, and considered, because he possessed that wife, that he must have accomplished virtuous acts in a former state of existence. Then the king, determining to banish his other sons by an artifice, had them summoned, and spake to them this feigned speech--"I have heard that you villains have slain a Bráhman traveller, so go and visit all the holy bathing-places in succession, do not remain here." When the sons heard that, they were not able to persuade the king of the truth, for when a ruler is bent on violence, who can convince him? Then Sringabhuja, beholding those brothers departing, with his eyes full of tears produced by pity, thus addressed his father. "Father, pity their one fault, have mercy upon them." Having said this, he fell at the feet of that king. And the king, thinking that that son was able to bear the burden of sovereignty, being even in his youth like an incarnation of Vishnu, full of glory and compassion, hiding his real sentiments and cherishing his anger against them, nevertheless did what Sringabhuja asked. And all those brothers considered their younger brother as the saviour of their lives. And all the subjects, beholding the exceeding virtue of Sringabhuja, became attached to him. Then the next day, his father, king Vírabhuja, anointed as crown-prince Sringabhuja, who was the oldest in virtue of them all, though he had elder brothers. And then Sringabhuja, having been anointed and having obtained the leave of his father, went with all his forces to conquer the world. And having brought back the wealth of numerous kings, whom he overcame by the might of his arm, he returned, having diffused the splendour of his glory through all the earth. Then bearing the weight of the realm with his submissive brothers, the successful prince Sringabhuja, giving pleasure to his parents, who remained in the enjoyment of comfort free from anxiety, and bestowing gifts on Bráhmans, dwelt at ease with Rúpasikhá as if with incarnate success. "Thus virtuous women serve their husbands in every way, devoted to them alone, like Gunavará, and Rúpasikhá, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law." When Naraváhanadatta, in the society of Ratnaprabhá, heard this story from the lips of Harisikha, he was much delighted and exclaimed, "Bravo!" Then he rose up, and quickly performed the religious ceremony for the day, and went with his wife into the presence of his father, the king of Vatsa, and after eating, and whiling away the afternoon with singing and playing, he spent the night with his beloved in his own private apartments. NOTE ON CHAPTER XXXIX. In a Norwegian tale, called "The Widow's Son," page 295 of Thorpe's Yule-Tide Stories, will be found an incident closely resembling the pursuit of Sringabhuja by Dhúmasikha. The widow's son has, contrary to the orders of a Troll, in whose house he found himself, entered several chambers, in one of which he found a thorn-whip, in another a huge stone, and a water-bottle. In the third he found a boiling copper kettle, with which he scalded his finger, but the Troll cured it with a pot of ointment. In the fourth room he found a black horse in a stall, with a trough of burning embers at its head, and a basket of hay at its tail. The youth thought this cruel, so he changed their position. The horse, to reward him, informed him that the Troll on his return would certainly kill him, and then continued, "Lay the saddle on me, put on the armour, and take the whip of thorn, the stone, and the water-flask and the pot of ointment, and then we will set out." When the youth mounted the horse, it set off at a rapid rate. After riding some time, the horse said--"I think I hear a noise; look round, can you see anything?" "A great many are coming after us, certainly a score at least," answered the youth. "Ah! that is the Troll," said the horse, "he is coming with all his companions." They travelled for a time until their pursuers were gaining on them. "Throw now the thorn whip over your shoulder," said the horse,--"but throw it far away from me." The youth did so, and at the same moment there sprang up a large thick wood of briars. The youth now rode on a long way, while the Troll had to go home to fetch something wherewith to hew a road through the wood. After some time the horse again said, "Look back, can you see anything now?" "Yes, a whole multitude of people" said the youth, "like a church congregation." "That is the Troll, now he has got more with him, throw out now the large stone, but throw it far from me." When the youth had done what the horse desired, there arose a large stone mountain behind them. So the Troll was obliged to go home after something with which to bore through the mountain; and while he was thus employed, the youth rode on a considerable way. But now the horse bade him again look back; he then saw a multitude like a whole army, they were so bright, that they glittered in the sun. "Well that is the Troll with all his friends," said the horse. "Now throw the water-bottle behind you, but take good care to spill none on me." The youth did so, but notwithstanding his caution he happened to spill a drop on the horse's loins. Immediately there arose a vast lake, and the spilling of a few drops caused the horse to stand far out in the water; nevertheless he at last swam to the shore. When the Trolls came to the water, they lay down to drink it all up, and they gulped and gulped it down till they burst. (Folk-lore demons experience great difficulty in crossing water.) "Now we are quit of them," said the horse. In Laura von Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. II, p. 57, we find a similar incident. In the story of Fata Morgana, a prince, who carries off a bottle filled with her perspiration, but imprudently wakes her by kissing her, is pursued by her with two lions. He throws three pomegranates behind him: the first produces a river of blood, the second a thorny mountain, the third a volcano. This he does by the advice of his horse, who is really Fata Morgana's brother transformed by magic: see also Vol. I, p. 343; cp. also the 79th tale in Grimm's Kinder- und Hausmärchen (sixteenth edition in one volume) Die Wassernixe. In Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 113, Dr. Reinhold Köhler, in his remarks on the West Highland Stories collected by J. F. Campbell, compares the story of Agnisikha with the second story in Campbell's collection, entitled: "The Battle of the Birds." In this a king's son wishes to marry the youngest daughter of a giant. The giant sets him three tasks to do; to clean out a stable, to thatch it with feathers, and to fetch eggs from a magpie's nest in the top of a tree more than five hundred feet high. All these tasks he accomplishes by the help of the young lady herself. In the last task she makes a ladder of her fingers for him to ascend the tree by, but in so doing she loses her little finger. The giant requires the prince to choose his wife from among three sisters similarly dressed. He recognizes her by the loss of the little finger. When bed-time came, the giant's daughter told the prince that they must fly, or the giant would kill him. They mounted on the gray filly in the stable. But before starting the daughter cut an apple into nine shares; she put two at the head of the bed, two at the foot, two at the door of the kitchen, two at the house-door, and one outside the house. The giant awoke and called "Are you asleep?" several times, and the shares answered "No." At last he went and found the bed empty and cold, and pursued the fugitive couple. At the break of day the giant's daughter felt her father's breath burning her back. She told the prince to put his hand in the horse's ear, and fling what he found behind him. He found a sprig of sloe, flung it behind him, and produced a wood twenty miles long. The giant had to go back for his axe and wood-knife. In the middle of the day the prince finds in the ear of the filly a piece of gray stone. This produces twenty miles of gray rock behind them. The giant has to go back for his lever and mattock. The next thing, that the prince finds and flings behind him, is a bladder of water. This produces a fresh-water loch twenty miles broad. In it the giant is happily drowned. The rest of the story has no bearing upon the tale of Sringabhuja. Köhler compares a story in William Carleton's stories of the Irish peasantry. Here there is a sprig, a pebble and a drop of water producing a wood, a rock and a lake. He compares also a Norwegian story, Ashbjörnsen, No. 46, and some Swedish stories collected by Hylten Cavallius and G. Stephens. The three tasks are very different in the different forms of the tale. The ladder of fingers is only found in the Celtic form. It is only in the Gaelic and Irish forms that the objects thrown behind to check pursuit are found in the ear of the horse. In the latter form of the story of the Mermaid, Thorpe's Yule-Tide Stories, p. 205, we have the pursuit with much the same incidents as in our text. See also Ralston's remarks on the story in our text at pp. 132 and 143 of his Russian Folk-Tales. Cp. also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 216. An Indian parallel will be found in Miss Frere's Old Deccan Days, pp. 62 and 63. A Modern Greek one in Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, pp. 76-79. Cp. also for the tasks the story of Bisara in Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, and that of Die schöne Fiorita. Herr Kaden aptly compares the story of Jason and Medea. Another excellent parallel is furnished by the story of Schneeweiss-Feuerroth in the same collection, where we have the pursuit much as in our text. The pursuit and the tasks are found in the tale called La Montagne Noire, on p. 448 of Melusine, a periodical which appeared in the year 1878, and in Branca-flor, No. XIV in Coelho's Contos Populares Portuguezes, and in Gaal's Märchen der Magyaren, p. 60. The tasks are found in the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I, p. 226, and in Vol. II, p. 186; in Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 182, (the title of the tale is Die dankbaren Thiere; some grateful ants are found at page 339;) in Grössler's Sagen aus der Grafschaft Mansfeld, pp. 60 and 61; in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, pp. 18, 142, 262; in Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, Vol. II. p. 249, frogs, ants, and wasps help the hero. Cp. for the pursuit Liebrecht's translation of the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I, pp. 74-76 and 160. CHAPTER XL. Then, the next morning, when Naraváhanadatta was in Ratnaprabhá's house, Gomukha and the others came to him. But Marubhúti, being a little sluggish with intoxication produced by drinking spirits, approached slowly, decorated with flowers, and anointed with unguents. Then Gomukha, with face amused at his novel conception of statesman-like behaviour, out of fun ridiculed him by imitating his stammering utterance and staggering gait, and said to him, "How comes it that you, though the son of Yaugandharáyana, do not know policy, that you drink spirits in the morning, and come drunk into the presence of the prince?" When the intoxicated Marubhúti heard this, he said to him in his anger, "This should be said to me by the prince or some superior. But, tell me, who are you that you take upon you to instruct me, you son of Ityaka?" When he said this, Gomukha replied to him smiling, "Do princes reprove with their own mouths an ill-behaved servant? Undoubtedly their attendants must remind him of what is proper. And it is true that I am the son of Ityaka, but you are an ox of ministers, [585] your sluggishness alone would show it; the only fault is that you have no horns." When Gomukha said this to him Marubhúti answered, "You too, Gomukha, have much of the ox-nature about you; but you are clearly of mixed breed, for you are not properly domesticated." When all laughed at hearing this, Gomukha said, "This Marubhúti is literally a jewel, for who can introduce the thread of virtue [586] into that which cannot be pierced even by a thousand efforts? But a jewel of a man is a different kind of thing, for that is easily penetrated; as an illustration listen to the story of the bridge of sand." Story of Tapodatta. There lived in Pratishthána a Bráhman of the name of Tapodatta. He, though his father kept worrying him, would not learn the sciences in his boyhood. Subsequently he found himself censured by all, and being filled with regret, he went to the bank of the Ganges, in order to perform asceticism for the acquisition of knowledge. [587] There he betook himself to severe mortification of the flesh, and while he was thus engaged, Indra, who had beheld him with astonishment, came to him to prevent him, disguised as a Bráhman. And when he had come near him, he kept taking grains of sand from the bank, and throwing them into the billowy water of the Ganges. When Tapodatta saw that, he broke his silence, and asked him out of curiosity--"Bráhman, why do you do this unceasingly?" And Indra, disguised as a Bráhman, when he had been persistently questioned by him, said, "I am making a bridge over the Ganges for man and beast to cross by." Then Tapodatta said, "You fool, is it possible to make a bridge over the Ganges with sand, which will be carried away at some future time by the current?" When Indra, disguised as a Bráhman, heard that, he said to him--"If you know this truth, why do you attempt to acquire knowledge by vows and fasting, without reading or hearing lectures? The horn of a hare [588] may really exist, and the sky may be adorned with painting, and writing may be performed without letters, if learning may be acquired without study. If it could be so acquired, no one in this world would study at all." When Indra, disguised as a Bráhman, had said this to Tapodatta, Tapodatta reflected, and thinking that he had spoken truth, put a stop to his self-mortification, and went home. "So, you see, a wise man is easily made to listen to reason, but the foolish Marubhúti cannot be induced to listen to reason, but when you admonish him, he flies into a passion." When Gomukha said this, Harisikha said before the company--"It is true, O king, that the wise are easily induced to listen to reason." Story of Virúpasarman. For instance, there lived of old time in Benares a certain excellent Bráhman, named Virúpasarman, who was deformed and poor. And he, being despondent about his misshapen form and his poverty, went to the grove of ascetics there, and began to practise severe mortification of the flesh, through desire for beauty and wealth. Then the king of the gods [589] assumed the vile shape of a deformed jackal with a diseased body, and went and stood in front of him. When he saw that unfortunate [590] creature with its body covered with flies, Virúpasarman slowly reflected in his mind,--"Such creatures are born into the world on account of actions done in a former life, so is it a small thing for me that I was not made thus by the Creator? Who can overstep the lot prescribed by destiny?" When Virúpasarman perceived this, he brought his self-mortification to an end and went home. "So true is it, O king, that a wise man is instructed with little effort, but one, whose mind is void of discernment, is not instructed even with great exertion." Thus spoke Harisikha, and Gomukha assented, but Marubhúti, who was drunk and did not understand a joke, said in great anger, "There is power in the speech of Gomukha, but there is no might in the arms of men like you. A garrulous, quarrelsome, effeminate person makes heroes blush." When Marubhúti said this, being eager for a fight, king Naraváhanadatta, with a smile on his face, himself tried to appease him, and after dismissing him to his house, the king, who loved the friends of his youth, performed the duties of the day, and so spent it in great comfort. And the next day, when all these ministers came, and among them Marubhúti bowed down with shame, his beloved Ratnaprabhá spake thus to the prince: "You, my husband, are very fortunate in that you have these pure-hearted ministers bound to you by the fetters of a love dating from early childhood, and they are happy in possessing such an affectionate master; you have been gained by one another through actions in a former state of existence; of that there can be no doubt." When the queen said this, Tapantaka the son of Vasantaka, the companion in amusements of Naraváhanadatta, remarked--"It is true; our master has been gained by our actions in a former life. For every thing depends upon the power of actions in a former life--Hear in illustration of it the following tale." Story of king Vilásasíla and the physician Tarunachandra. There dwelt in a city named Vilásapura, the home of Siva, a king rightly named Vilásasíla. [591] He had a queen named Kamalaprabhá, whom he valued as his life, and he long remained with her addicted to pleasure only. Then in course of time there came upon the king old age, the thief of beauty, and when he beheld it, he was sorely grieved. He thought to himself--"How can I shew to the queen my face marred with grey hairs like a snow-smitten lotus? Alas! it is better that I should die." Busied with reflections like these, the king summoned into his hall of audience a physician named Tarunachandra [592] and thus spake to him respectfully--"My good man, because you are clever and devoted to me, I ask you whether there is any artifice by which this old age can be averted." When Tarunachandra, who was rightly named as being only of the magnitude of one digit, and desiring to become a full moon, heard that, the cunning fellow reflected--"I must make my profit out of this blockhead of a king, and I shall soon discover the means of doing it." Having thus reflected, the physician said to the king: "If you will remain in an underground chamber alone, O king, for eight months, and take this medicine, I engage to remove your old age." [593] When the king heard this, he had such an underground chamber prepared, for fools intent on objects of sense cannot endure reflection. But the ministers used arguments like the following with him--"O king, by the goodness and asceticism and self-denial of men of old time, and by the virtue of the age, elixirs were produced. But these forest remedies, [594] which we hear of now, O king, owing to the want of proper materials, produce the opposite effect to that which is intended, and this is quite in accordance with the treatises; for rogues do in this way make sport with fools. Does time past ever return, O king?"--Still these arguments did not penetrate into his soul, for it was encased in the thick armour of violent sensual desire. And in accordance with the advice of that physician, he entered that underground chamber alone, excluding the numerous retinue that usually waits upon a king. And alone with one servant belonging to that physician, he made himself a slave to the taking of drugs and the rest of the treatment. And the king remained there in that dark subterranean den, which seemed as if it were the overflowing, through abundance, of the ignorance of his heart. And after the king had spent six months in that underground chamber, that wicked physician, seeing that his senility had increased, brought a certain young man who resembled him in appearance, with whom he had agreed that he would make him king. Then he dug a tunnel into that underground chamber from a distance, and after killing the king in his sleep, he brought his corpse out by the underground passage, and threw it into a dark well. All this was done at night. And by the same tunnel he introduced that young man into the underground chamber, and closed that tunnel. What audacious wickedness will not a low fellow, who is held in check by no restraints, commit, when he gets a favourable chance of practising upon fools? Then, the next day, the physician said to all the subjects,--"This king has been made young again by me in six months, and in two months his form will be changed again--So show yourselves to him now at a little distance." Thus he spake, and brought them all to the door of the underground chamber, and shewed them to the young man, telling him at the same time their names and occupations. By this artifice he kept instructing that young man in the underground chamber in the names of all the subjects every day for two months, not excepting even the inhabitants of the harem. And when a fitting time came, he brought the young man, after he had been well fed, [595] out of the subterranean chamber, saying, "This king has become young again." And then the young man was surrounded by the delighted subjects, who exclaimed "This is our own king restored by drugs." Then the young man, having thus obtained the kingdom, bathed, and performed with much pleasure by the help of his ministers the kingly duties. And from that time forth he lived in much felicity, transacting regal business, and sporting with the ladies of the harem, having obtained the name of Ajara. [596] And all the subjects considered that he was their former king transformed by drugs, not guessing the truth, and not suspecting the proceedings of the physician. And king Ajara, having gained over the subjects and the queen Kamalaprabhá by kind treatment, enjoyed the royal fortune together with his friends. Then he summoned a friend called Bheshajachandra and another called Padmadarsana, and made both of them like himself, satisfying them with gifts of elephants, horses, and villages. And he honoured the physician Tarunachandra on account of the advancement he had conferred on him, but he did not repose confidence in him because his soul had fallen from truth and virtue. And once on a time the physician of his own motion said to the king, "Why do you make me of no account and act independently? Have you forgotten the occasion on which I made you king?" When king Ajara heard that, he said to the physician, "Ha! you are a fool: what man does anything for any one, or gives anything to any one? My friend, it is our deeds in a former state of existence that give and do. Therefore do not boast yourself, for this elevation I attained by asceticism: and I will soon shew you this by ocular proof." When he said this to the physician, the latter reflected as one terrified--"This man is not to be intimidated and speaks like a resolute sage. It is better to overawe that master, the secret of whose character is instability, but that cannot be done with this man, so I must submit to him. In the meanwhile let me wait and see what he will shew me so manifestly." Thus reflecting, the physician said, "It is true," and held his peace. And the next day king Ajara went out to roam about and amuse himself with his friends, waited on by Tarunachandra and others. And as he was strolling, he reached the bank of a river, and in it he saw five golden lotuses come floating down the current. And he made his servants bring them, and taking them and looking at them, he said to the physician Tarunachandra, who was standing near him, "Go up along the bank of this river, and look for the place where these lotuses are produced: and when you have seen it, return, for I feel great curiosity about these wonderful lotuses, and you are my skilful friend." When he was thus commissioned by the king, the physician, not being able to help himself, said, "So be it," and went the way he was ordered. And the king returned to his capital, but the physician travelled on, and in course of time reached a temple of Siva that stood on the bank of that river. And in front of it, on the shore of a holy bathing-place in that stream, he beheld a great banyan-tree, and a man's skeleton suspended on it. And while, fatigued with his journey, he was resting after bathing and worshipping the god, a cloud came there and rained. And from that human skeleton, hanging on the branches of the banyan-tree, when rained upon by the cloud, there fell drops of water. [597] And when they fell into the water of the bathing-place in that river, the physician observed that those golden lotuses were immediately produced from them. The physician said to himself, "Ha! what is this wonder? Whom can I ask in the uninhabited wood? Or rather who knows the creation of Destiny that is full of so many marvels? I have beheld this mine of golden lotuses; so I will throw this human skeleton into the sacred water. Let right be done, and let golden lotuses grow from its back." After these reflections, he flung the skeleton down from the top of that tree: and after spending the day there, the physician set out the next day for his own country, having accomplished the object for which he was sent. And in a few days he reached Vilásapura, and went, emaciated and soiled with his journey, to the court of king Ajara. The door-keeper announced him, and he went in and prostrated himself at the feet of the king; the king asked him how he was, and while he was relating his adventure, the king put every one else out of the hall, and himself said; "So you have seen, my friend, the place where the golden lotuses are produced, that most holy sanctuary of Siva; and you saw there a skeleton on a banyan-tree; know that that is my former body. I hung there in old time by my feet; and in that way performed asceticism, until I dried up my body and abandoned it. And owing to the nobility of my penance, from the drops of rain-water, that fall from that skeleton of mine, are produced golden lotuses. And in that you threw my skeleton into the water of that holy bathing-place, you did what was right, for you were my friend in a former birth. And this Bheshajachandra and this Padmadarsana, they also were friends, who associated with me in a former birth. So it is owing to the might of that asceticism, my friend, that recollection of my former birth, and knowledge and empire have been bestowed on me. By an artifice I have given you ocular proof of this, and you have described it with a token, telling how you flung down the skeleton; so you must not boast to me, saying, that you gave me the kingdom, and you must not allow your mind to be discontented, for no one gives anything to any one without the help of actions in a former life. From his birth a man eats the fruit of the tree of his former actions." When the king said this to the physician, he saw that it was true, and he remained satisfied with the king's service, and was never afterwards discontented. And that noble-minded king Ajara, who remembered his former birth, honoured the physician becomingly with gifts of wealth, and lived comfortably with his wives and friends, enjoying the earth conquered by his policy, and originally obtained by his good actions, without an opponent. "Thus in this world all the good and bad fortune, that befalls all men at all times, is earned by actions in a former life. For this reason I think we must have earned you for our lord in a former birth, otherwise how could you be so kind to us, while there are other men in existence?" Then Naraváhanadatta, having heard in the company of his beloved from the mouth of Tapantaka this strangely pleasing and entertaining tale, rose up to bathe. And after he had bathed, he went into the presence of his father the king of Vatsa, frequently raining nectar into the eyes of his mother, and after taking food, he spent that day and that night in drinking and other pleasures with his parents, and his wife, and his ministers. CHAPTER XLI. And the next day, as Naraváhanadatta was in the apartments of Ratnaprabhá, talking over various subjects with his ministers, he suddenly heard a sound, which appeared to be like that of a man weeping outside in the court-yard of the palace. And when some one asked--"What is that?"--the female attendants came and said, "My lord, the chamberlain Dharmagiri is weeping here. For a foolish friend of his came here just now, and said that his brother, who went on a pilgrimage to holy places, was dead in a foreign land. He, bewildered with grief, forgot that he was in the court and began to lament, but he has been just now taken outside by the servants and conducted to his own house." When the prince heard this, he was grieved, and Ratnaprabhá moved with pity said in a despondent tone--"Alas! the grief which is produced by the loss of dear relatives is hard to bear! Why did not the Creator make men exempt from old age and death?" When Marubhúti heard this speech of the queen's, he said; "Queen, how can mortals ever attain this good fortune? For listen to the following story, which I will tell you, bearing on this question." Story of king Chiráyus and his minister Nágárjuna. In the city of Chiráyus there was in old time a king, named Chiráyus, [598] who was indeed long-lived, and the home of all good fortune. He had a compassionate, generous and gifted minister, named Nágárjuna, who was sprung from a portion of a Bodhisattva, who knew the use of all drugs, and by making an elixir he rendered himself and that king free from old age, and long-lived. One day an infant son of that minister Nágárjuna, whom he loved more than any of his other children, died. He felt grief on that account, and by the force of his asceticism and knowledge proceeded to prepare out of certain ingredients the Water of Immortality, [599] in order to prevent mortals from dying. But while he was waiting for the auspicious moment in which to infuse a particular drug, Indra found out what was going on. And Indra, having consulted with the gods, said to the two Asvins--"Go and give this message to Nágárjuna on the earth from me--'Why have you, though a minister, begun this revolutionary proceeding of making the Water of Life? Are you determined now to conquer the Creator, who indeed created men subject to the law of death, since you propose to make men immortal by preparing the Water of Life? If this takes place, what difference will there be between gods and men? And the constitution of the universe will be broken up, because there will be no sacrificer and no recipient of sacrifice. So by my advice discontinue this preparation of the Water of Life, otherwise the gods will be angry, and will certainly curse you. And your son, through grief for whom you are engaged in this attempt, is now in Svarga.'" With this message Indra despatched the two Asvins. And they arrived at the house of Nágárjuna and, after receiving the argha, [600] told Nágárjuna, who was pleased with their visit, the message of Indra, and informed him that his son was with the gods in heaven. Then Nágárjuna, being despondent, thought; "Never mind the gods, but if I do not obey the command of Indra, these Asvins will inflict a curse on me. So let this Water of Life go, I have not accomplished my desire; however my son, on account of my good deeds in a former life, has gone to the abode of bliss." Having thus reflected, Nágárjuna said to these two gods, the Asvins, "I obey the command of Indra, I will desist from making the Water of Life. If you two had not come, I should have completed the preparation of the Water of Life in five days, and freed this whole earth from old age and death." When Nágárjuna had said this, he buried by their advice the Water of Life, which was almost completed, in the earth before their eyes. Then the Asvins took leave of him, and went and told Indra in heaven that their errand was accomplished, and the king of gods rejoiced. And in the meanwhile Nágárjuna's master, the king Chiráyus, anointed his son Jívahara crown-prince. And when he was anointed, his mother, the queen Dhanapará, on his coming in great delight to salute her, said to him, as soon as she saw him, "Why do you rejoice without cause, my son, at having obtained this dignity of crown-prince, for this is not a step to the attainment of the kingly dignity, not even by the help of asceticism? For many crown-princes, sons of your father, have died, and not one of them has obtained the throne, they have all inherited disappointment. For Nágárjuna has given this king an elixir, by the help of which he is now in the eighth century of his age. And who knows how many more centuries will pass over the head of this king, who makes his short-lived sons crown-princes." When her son heard that, he was despondent, and she went on to say to him, "If you desire the throne, adopt this expedient. This minister Nágárjuna every day, after he has performed the day's devotions, gives gifts at the time of taking food, and makes this proclamation; 'Who is a suppliant? Who wants anything? To whom can I give anything, and what?' At that moment go to him and say, 'Give me your head,'--Then he, being a truthful man, will have his head cut off, and out of sorrow for his death this king will die, or retire to the forest; then you will obtain the crown; there is no other expedient available in this matter." When he heard this speech from his mother, the prince was delighted, and he consented, and determined to carry her advice into effect, for the lust of sovereign sway is cruel, and overcomes one's affection for one's friends. Then that prince went, the next day, of his own accord to the house of that Nágárjuna, at the time when he took his food. And when the minister cried out, "Who requires anything, and what does he require?" he entered and asked him for his head. The minister said, "This is strange, my son; what can you do with this head of mine? For it is only an agglomeration of flesh, bone and hair. To what use can you put it? Nevertheless, if it is of any use to you, cut it off, and take it." With these words he offered his neck to him. But it had been so hardened by the elixir that, though he struck at it for a long time, he could not cut it, but broke many swords over it. In the meanwhile the king, hearing of it, arrived, and asked him not to give away his head, but Nágárjuna said to him: "I can remember my former births, and I have given away my head ninety-nine times in my various births. This, my lord, will be the hundredth time of my giving away my head. So do not say anything against it, for no suppliant ever leaves my presence disappointed. So I will now present your son with my head; for this delay was made by me only in order to behold your face." Thus he spoke, and embraced that king, and brought a powder out of his closet, with which he smeared the sword of that prince. Then the prince cut off the head of the minister Nágárjuna with a blow of that sword, as a man cuts a lotus from its stalk. Then a great cry of wailing was raised, and the king was on the point of giving up his own life, when a bodiless voice sounded from the heaven in these words--"Do not do what you ought not, king. You should not lament your friend Nágárjuna, for he will not be born again, but has attained the condition of a Buddha." When king Chiráyus heard this, he gave up the idea of suicide, but bestowed great gifts, and out of grief left his throne, and went to the forest. There in time he obtained by asceticism eternal bliss. Then his son Jívahara obtained his kingdom, and soon after his accession he allowed dissension to arise in his realm, and was slain by the sons of Nágárjuna remembering their father's murder. Then through sorrow for him his mother's heart broke. How can prosperity befall those who walk in the path trodden by the ignoble? And a son of that king Chiráyus, born to him by another wife, named Satáyus, was placed on his throne by his chief ministers. "Thus, as the gods would not permit Nágárjuna to carry out the task of destroying death, which he had undertaken, he became subject to death. Therefore it is true that this world of living beings was appointed by the Creator unstable, and full of grief hard to ward off, and even with hundreds of efforts it is impossible for any one to do anything here, which the Creator does not wish him to do." When Marubhúti had told this story, he ceased speaking, and Naraváhanadatta rose up with his ministers and performed his daily duties. CHAPTER XLII. Then, early the next day, Naraváhanadatta went off to the forest for the purpose of hunting, surrounded with elephants, in the company of his father and his friends; but before going he comforted his beloved Ratnaprabhá, who was anxious about him, by saying that he would quickly return. Then the scene of the chase became like a garden adorned with lovely creepers for his delight, for in it the pearls that dropped from the claws of the lions, that had cleft the foreheads of elephants, and now fell asleep in death, were sown like seeds; and the teeth of the tigers that were cut out by the crescent-headed arrows were like buds, and the flowing blood of the deer seemed like shoots, and the wild boars, in which stuck the arrows adorned with heron feathers, seemed like clusters, and the fallen bodies of Sarabhas [601] shewed like fruit, and the arrows falling with deep hum appeared like bees. Gradually the prince became wearied, and desisted from the chase, and went on horseback to another wood with Gomukha, who was also riding. There he began to play at ball, and while he was thus engaged, a certain female ascetic came that way. Then the ball slipped from his hand and fell on her head; whereupon the female ascetic laughed a little, and said to him--"If your insolence is so great now, what will it be if you ever obtain Karpúriká for a wife." [602] When Naraváhanadatta heard this, he dismounted from his horse, and prostrating himself at the feet of that female ascetic, said to her--"I did not see you, and my ball fell on your head by chance--Reverend one, be propitiated, and pardon that fault of mine." When the female ascetic heard that, she said, "My son, I am not angry with you," and being victorious over her wrath she comforted him with blessings. And then, thinking that the wise truthful ascetic was well disposed to him, Naraváhanadatta respectfully asked her--"Who, reverend lady, is this Karpúriká spoken of by you? Condescend to inform me, if you are pleased with me, for I am curious on this head." When he said this, bending before her, the female ascetic said to him: "There is on the other side of the sea a city named Karpúrasambhava; [603] in it there is a king rightly named Karpúraka, he has a daughter, a lovely maiden, named Karpúriká, who appears like a second Lakshmí, deposited in security there by the ocean, having seen that the first Lakshmí had been carried away by the gods after the churning. And she, as she hates men, does not desire to be married, but she will desire it, if at all, when she sees you. So go there, my son, and you shall win that fair one; nevertheless, while you are going there, you will suffer great hardship in the forest. But you must not be perplexed at that, for all shall end well." When the ascetic had said this, she flew up into the air and disappeared. Then Naraváhanadatta, drawn on by the command of Love uttered through her voice, said to his attendant Gomukha, "Come, let us go to Karpúriká in the city of Karpúrasambhava, for I cannot remain a moment without beholding her." When Gomukha heard that, he said--"King, desist from your rashness. Consider how far off you are from the sea and from that city, and whether the journey is worth taking for the sake of that maiden? Why, on merely hearing her name, do you abandon celestial wives, and alone run after a mere woman who is enveloped in doubt, owing to your not knowing what her intention is." When Gomukha said this to him, the son of the king of Vatsa said, "The speech of that holy ascetic cannot be false. So I must certainly go to find that princess." Having said this, he set out thence on horseback that very moment. And Gomukha followed him silently, though it was against his wish: when a lord does not act on the advice of his servants, their only course is to follow him. In the meanwhile the king of Vatsa, having finished his hunting, returned to his city, thinking that that son of his was returning among his own armed followers. And the prince's followers returned with Marubhúti and the others to the city, supposing that the prince was with the armed followers of his father. When they arrived, the king of Vatsa and the others searched for him, and finding that he had not returned, they all went to the house of Ratnaprabhá. She at first was grieved at that news, but she called up a supernatural science and was told by it tidings of her husband, and said to her distressed father-in-law; "My husband heard the princess Karpúriká mentioned by a female ascetic in the forest, and in order to obtain her he has gone to the city of Karpúrasambhava. And he will soon have accomplished his object, and will return here with Gomukha. So dismiss anxiety, for this I have learned from a science." By these words she comforted the king of Vatsa and his retinue. And she despatched another science to wait on her husband during his journey, and dispel his fatigue; for good women who desire their husband's happiness do not account of jealousy. In the meanwhile Naraváhanadatta performed a long journey on horseback in that forest, accompanied by Gomukha. Then a maiden suddenly came up to him in his path and said to him, "I am a science sent by Ratnaprabhá, named Máyávatí, I will guard you on the path without being seen, so proceed now without fear." Having said this, the incarnate science disappeared, as he gazed at it. By virtue of it, Naraváhanadatta continued his journey with his thirst and hunger appeased, praising his beloved Ratnaprabhá. And in the evening he reached a wood with a pure lake in it, and with Gomukha he bathed, and took a meal of delicious fruit and water. And at night he tied up the two horses underneath a large tree, after supplying them with grass, and he and his minister climbed up into it to sleep. While reposing on a broad bough of the tree, he was woke up by the neighings of the terrified horses, and saw a lion that had come close underneath. When he saw it, he wished [604] to get down for the sake of the horses, but Gomukha said to him--"Alas! you are neglecting the safety of your person, and acting without counsel; for kings the first duty is the preservation of their persons, and counsel is the foundation of rule. How can you desire to contend with wild beasts armed with teeth and claws. For it was to avoid these that we just now got up into this tree." When the king had been restrained from descending by these words of Gomukha's, seeing the lion killing the horse, he immediately threw his sword at it from the tree, and succeeded in wounding it with the weapon which was buried in its body. The mighty lion, though pierced with the sword, after killing that horse, slew the other also. Then the son of the king of Vatsa took Gomukha's sword from him, and throwing it, cut the lion in half in the middle. And descending he recovered his sword from the body of the lion, and ascending again to his sleeping place, he passed the night there in the tree. In the morning Naraváhanadatta got down, and set out to find Karpúriká, accompanied by Gomukha. Then Gomukha, beholding him travelling on foot, as the lion had slain his horse, in order to amuse him on the way said; "Listen, king, I will relate you this story, which is particularly appropriate on the present occasion." Story of king Parityágasena, his wicked wife and his two sons. There is in this world a city named Irávatí, which surpasses Alaká; [605] in it there dwelt a king named Parityágasena. And he had two beloved queens, whom he valued as his life. One was the daughter of his own minister and her name was Adhikasangamá, and the other was of royal race, and was called Kávyálankárá. And with those two the king propitiated Durgá to obtain a son, and performed penance without food, sleeping on darbha grass. Then Bhavání, who is kind to her votaries, pleased with his penance, appeared to him in a dream and gave him two heavenly fruits, and thus commanded him: "Rise up and give your two wives these two fruits to eat, and then, king, you will have born to you two heroic sons." Having said this, Gaurí disappeared, and the king woke up in the morning and rose delighted at beholding those fruits in his hand. And by describing that dream of his he delighted his wives, and bathed and worshipped the consort of Siva, and broke his fast. And at night he first visited that wife of his Adhikasangamá, and gave her one of the fruits, and she immediately ate it. Then the king spent the night in her pavilion, out of respect for her father, who was his own prime minister. And he placed near the head of his bed the second fruit, which was intended for the other queen. While the king was asleep, the queen Adhikasangamá rose up, and desiring for herself two similar sons, she took from his head and ate that second fruit also. For women are naturally envious of their rivals. And in the morning, when the king rose up and was looking for that fruit, she said--"I ate that second fruit also." Then the king went away despondent, and after spending the day, he went at night to the apartments of the second queen. And when she asked for that other fruit, he said to her--"While I was asleep, your fellow-wife treacherously devoured it." Then the queen Kávyálankárá, not having obtained that fruit, which was to enable her to give birth to a son, remained silently grieved. In the course of some days that queen Adhikasangamá became pregnant, and in due time gave birth to twin sons. And the king Parityágasena rejoiced and made a great feast, since his desire was fulfilled by their birth. And the king gave the name of Indívarasena to the elder of the two, who was of wonderful beauty and had eyes like a blue lotus. And he gave to the younger the name of Anichchhasena, because his mother ate the second fruit against his wish. Then Kávyálankárá, the second wife of that king, on beholding this, was angry, and reflected--"Alas! I have been cheated by this rival wife out of having children; so I must without fail revenge myself on her; I must destroy these sons of hers by my cunning." Having thus reflected, she remained thinking over a means of doing this. And as fast as those two princes grew, the tree of enmity grew in her heart. And in course of time those two princes, having attained manhood, and being mighty of arm, and desirous of conquest, said to their father--"We have attained manhood and we have been trained in the use of weapons, so how can we remain here endowed to no profit with these mighty arms? Out on the arms and the youth of a Kshatriya that longs not for victory! So let us go now, father, and conquer the regions." When the king Parityágasena heard this request of his sons, he was pleased and consented, and made arrangements for their expedition. And he said to them, "If ever you are in difficulties, you must think upon the goddess Durgá the remover of sorrows, for she gave you to me." Then the king sent forth those two sons on their expedition, accompanied by his troops and feudal chiefs, after their mother had performed the auspicious ceremonies to ensure them success. And he sent after them his own sagacious prime minister, their maternal grandfather, whose name was Prathamasangama. Then those two mighty princely brothers, with their army, first marched in due order to the eastern quarter, and subdued it. Then these two irresistible heroes of approved might, to whom many kings had joined themselves, went to the southern quarter to conquer it. And their parents rejoiced on hearing these tidings of them, but their second mother was consumed with the fire of concealed hate. The treacherous queen then got the following false despatch written in the king's name to the chiefs in the princes' camp, by means of the secretary for foreign affairs, whom she had bribed with heaps of treasure--"My two sons, having subdued the earth by the might of their arms, have formed the intention of killing me and seizing my kingdom; so if you are loyal to me, you must without hesitation put to death both those sons of mine."--This letter Kávyálankárá sent off secretly by a courier. And the courier went secretly to the camp of those two princes, and gave that letter to the chiefs. And they all, after reading it, reflecting that the policy of kings is very cruel, and considering that that command of their master must not be disobeyed, met and deliberated in the night, and as they saw no way out of the difficulty, determined to kill those two princes, though they had been fascinated by their virtues. But their maternal grandfather, the minister, who was with them, heard of it from a friend that he had among the chiefs, and after informing the princes of the state of affairs, he thereupon mounted them on swift horses, and conveyed them away safely out of the camp. The two princes, when conveyed away by the minister at night, travelled along with him, and entered the Vindhya forest out of ignorance of the true road. Then, after the night had passed, as they slowly proceeded on their way, about noon their horses died, overcome with excessive thirst. And that aged maternal grandfather of theirs, whose palate was dry with hunger and thirst, died exhausted with the heat before the eyes of those two, who were also weary. Then those afflicted brothers exclaimed in their sorrow--"Why has our father reduced to this state us who are innocent, and fulfilled the desire of that wicked second mother of ours?"--In the midst of their lamentation they thought upon the goddess Ambiká, [606] whom their father had long ago pointed out to them as their natural protectress. That moment, by force of thinking on that kind protectress, their hunger, thirst and fatigue left them, and they were strong. Then they were comforted by faith in her, and without feeling the fatigue of the journey, they went to visit that goddess who dwells in the Vindhya forest. And when those two brothers had arrived there, they began a course of fasting and asceticism to propitiate her. In the meanwhile those chiefs in the camp assembled together in a band, and went with the intention of doing the princes a mischief; but they could not find them, though they searched everywhere. They said--"The princes have escaped somewhere with their maternal grandfather," and fearing that the whole thing would come out, they went in a fright to the king Parityágasena. And shewing him the letters, they told him the whole story. He, when he heard it, was agitated and said to them in his anger; "I did not send this letter, this is some deception. And how comes it that you did not know, you foolish creatures, that I should not be likely to put to death two sons obtained by severe austerities? They have been put to death as far as you are concerned, but they were saved by their own merits, and their maternal grandfather has exhibited a specimen of his statesmanship." He said this to the chiefs, and though the secretary who wrote the treacherous letter fled, the king quickly had him brought back by his royal power, and after thoroughly investigating the whole matter, punished him as he deserved. And he threw into a dungeon his wicked wife Kávyálankárá, who was guilty of such a crime as trying to slay his sons. For how can an evil deed audaciously done, the end of which is not considered through the mind being blinded with excessive hate, help bringing ruin? And as for those chiefs, who had set out with his two sons and returned, the king dismissed them, and appointed others in their place. And with their mother he continued to seek for tidings of those sons, plunged in grief, devoted to righteousness, thinking upon Durgá. In the meanwhile that goddess, who has her shrine in the Vindhya mountains, was pleased with the asceticism of the prince Indívarasena and his younger brother. And she gave Indívarasena a sword in a dream, and appearing to him, thus addressed him--"By the power of this sword thou shalt conquer enemies hard to overcome, and whatever thou shalt think of thou shalt obtain, and by means of it you shall both gain the success you desire." When the goddess had said that, she disappeared, and Indívarasena, waking up, beheld that sword in his hand. Then he comforted his younger brother by shewing him that sword, and describing to him his dream, and in the morning he and his brother broke their fast on wild fruits. Then he worshipped that goddess, and having his fatigue removed by her favour, he departed rejoicing, with the sword in his hand, in the company of his brother. And after he had travelled a long distance, he found a great and splendid city, looking like the peak of Meru on account of its golden houses. There he beheld a terrible Rákshasa standing at the gate of the high street, and the hero asked him what was the name of the town, and who was its king. That Rákshasa said--"This city is called Sailapura, and it is possessed by our lord Yamadanshtra, the slayer of his foes, king of the Rákshasas." When the Rákshasa said this, Indívarasena attempted to enter, in order to slay Yamadanshtra, but the Rákshasa at the door tried to prevent him, upon which the mighty Indívarasena killed him, cutting off his head with one stroke of his sword. After slaying him, the hero entered the royal palace, and beheld inside it the Rákshasa Yamadanshtra sitting on his throne, having a mouth terrible with tusks, with a lovely woman at his left hand, and a virgin of heavenly beauty on his right hand. And when Indívarasena saw him, he went with the sword given him by Durgá in his hand, and challenged him to fight, and the Rákshasa drew his sword and stood up to resist him. And in the course of the fight Indívarasena frequently cut off the Rákshasa's head, but it grew again. [607] Seeing that magic power of his, and having had a sign made to him by the virgin at the Rákshasa's side, who had fallen in love with him at first sight, the prince, after cutting off the head of the Rákshasa, being quick of hand, again cut it in two with a stroke of his sword. Then the Rákshasa's magic was baffled by contrary magic, and his head did not grow again, and the Rákshasa died of the wound. When he was slain, the lovely woman and the princess were delighted, and the prince with his younger brother sat down, and asked them the following questions: "Why did this Rákshasa live in such a city as this, guarded by one warder only, and who are you two, and why do you rejoice at his being slain?" When they heard this, the virgin was the one that answered, and she spoke as follows: "In this city of Sailapura there lived a king of the name of Vírabhuja, and this is his wife Madanadanshtrá, and this Rákshasa came and devoured him by the help of his magic power. And he ate up his attendants, but he did not eat this Madanadanshtrá, whom alone he spared because she was beautiful, but he made her his wife. Then he became disgusted with this city though beautiful, and building in it houses of gold, he remained here sporting with Madanadanshtrá, having dismissed his retinue. And I am the younger sister of this Rákshasa, and unmarried, but the moment I saw you, I fell in love with you. Accordingly she is glad at his having been slain, and so also am I; so marry me here now, my husband, since love makes me offer myself to you." When Khadgadanshtrá said this, Indívarasena married her then and there by the Gándharva form of marriage. And he remained in that very city, having everything brought to him, on his thinking of it, by the virtue of the sword of Durgá, married and accompanied by his younger brother. And once on a time he made a chariot that would fly through the air, produced by thought through the virtue of his sword, that resembled in its powers the philosopher's stone, and placed in it his heroic younger brother Anichchhasena, and sent him off from his retreat to bear tidings of him to his parents. Anichchhasena, for his part, travelled quickly through the air in that chariot, and reached Irávatí that city of his father. There he refreshed his grief-worn parents with the sight of him, as the moon refreshes the partridges when exhausted with severe heat. And he approached them, and fell at their feet, and was embraced by them, and when they questioned him, he dispelled their apprehensions with good news of his brother. And he told in their presence the whole adventure of himself and his brother, which in the beginning was sad, but in the end was happy. And there he heard the treacherous device, which his wicked second mother had out of enmity contrived for his destruction. Then Anichchhasena remained there in tranquillity, in the company of his delighted father and his mother, honoured by the subjects. But after some days had passed, his fears were aroused by a threatening dream, and he yearned to see his brother again, and said to his father; "I will depart, and by telling my brother Indívarasena that you are anxiously awaiting him, I will bring him back; give me leave to depart, my father." When his father heard that, being anxious for the sight of his son, he and his wife gave Anichchhasena leave to depart, and he immediately mounted his chariot, and reached through the air that city of Sailapura. And when he arrived there, he entered the palace of that brother of his. He saw there his elder brother lying senseless in the presence of Khadgadanshtrá and Madanadanshtrá, who were weeping. In his perplexity he asked, "What does this mean?" And then Khadgadanshtrá said with her eyes fixed on the ground, though the other blamed her for it; "When you were away, your brother one day, on my going to bathe, had a secret intrigue with this Madanadanshtrá. And I, on returning from bathing, found him with her, and I abused him. Then he tried to propitiate me, but I, being exceedingly bewildered by unforgiving jealousy, that seemed to have possessed me, thought thus with myself, 'Ah! without taking me into account, he favours another; I believe he shews this insolence confiding in the magic properties of his sword, so I will hide this weapon of his.' After thus reflecting, in my folly I thrust his sword into the fire at night, while he was asleep. The consequence was that his sword was dimmed and he was reduced to this state. And I am grieved for this myself and upbraided by Madanadanshtrá. So you have come here now when both our minds are blinded with grief, and we have resolved on death. So take this sword and kill me with it, since I have proved true to the customs of my race and acted cruelly." When Anichchhasena was thus entreated by his brother's wife, he thought that he ought not to slay her on account of her repentance, but prepared to cut off his own head. But at that moment, he heard the following voice come from the air--"Do not act thus, prince, your brother is not dead, but he has been struck senseless by Durgá, who is angry at his not having taken sufficient care of the sword, and you must not impute guilt to Khadgadanshtrá, for this circumstance is the consequence of your all having been born into this world on account of a curse. And they were both of them your brother's wives in a former life. So propitiate Durgá in order to gain your object." Accordingly Anichchhasena gave up his intention of slaying himself. But he mounted that chariot, and took that fire-dimmed sword, and went to propitiate the soles of the feet of Durgá, the dweller in the Vindhya range. There he fasted, and was about to propitiate the goddess with the offering of his head, when he heard this voice from heaven--"Do not be rash, my son, go; thy elder brother shall live, and the sword shall become pure from stain, for I am pleased with thy devotion." When Anichchhasena heard this speech of the goddess, he immediately saw that the sword in his hand had recovered its brightness, and he walked round the goddess, keeping his right hand towards her; and ascending his swift magic car, as if it were his own desire, [608] he returned in a state of anxious expectation to that Sailapura. There he saw that his elder brother had just risen up, having suddenly regained consciousness, and weeping he seized his feet, and his elder brother threw his arms round his neck. And both the wives of Indívarasena fell at the feet of Anichchhasena and said--"You have saved the life of our husband." Then he told the whole story to his brother Indívarasena who questioned him, and he, when he heard it, was not angry with Khadgadanshtrá, but was pleased with his brother. [609] And he heard from the lips of his brother that his parents were eager to see him, and of the fraud of his second mother, that had brought about his separation from them; then he took the sword which his brother handed to him, and mounted a large chariot, which came to him the moment he thought of it, owing to the virtue of the sword, and with his golden palaces, and his two wives, and his younger brother Indívarasena, returned to his own city Irávatí. There he alighted from the air, beheld with wonder by the subjects, and entered the palace, and went with his attendants into the presence of the king. And in that condition he beheld his father and his mother, and fell at their feet with his eyes bathed in streaming tears. And they, the moment they beheld their son, embraced him and his younger brother, and having their bodies, as it were, bathed in nectar, they were relieved from their sorrow. And when their daughters-in-law, those two wives of Indívarasena, of heavenly beauty, fell at their feet, they looked on them with delight and welcomed them. And the parents, learning in course of conversation, that they were said by a divine voice to have been appointed in a previous life as his wives, were exceedingly delighted. And they rejoiced with astonishment at the power of their son, which enabled him to travel through the air, and bring golden palaces and do other things of this kind. Then Indívarasena remained, with those two wives and his attendants, in the society of his parents, causing delight to the subjects. And once on a time he took leave of his father, king Parityágasena, and went forth again to conquer the four quarters, accompanied by his younger brother. And the mighty-armed hero conquered the whole earth by the virtue of his sword, and came back bringing with him the gold, elephants, horses and jewels of conquered kings. And he reached his capital, followed out of fear by the conquered earth in the form of the army of dust, that his forces raised. And he entered the palace, where his father advanced to meet him, and he and his brother delighted their mother Adhikasangamá by their return. And after he had honoured the kings, Indívarasena spent that day in pleasure, accompanied by his wives and his followers. And on the next day the prince made over the earth to his father by way of tribute from the kings, and suddenly recollected his former birth. Then, like one waking up from sleep, he said to his father--"Father, I remember my former birth; listen, I will tell you all about it. There is a city on the plateau of the Himálayas named Muktápura; in it there lives a king named Muktásena, a king of the Vidyádharas. And by a queen named Kambuvatí he had born to him in course of time two virtuous sons, Padmasena and Rúpasena. Then a maiden, named Ádityaprabhá, the daughter of a chief of the Vidyádharas, of her own accord, out of love, chose Padmasena for her husband. Hearing of that, a Vidyádhara maiden, of the name of Chandravatí, became love-sick also, and came and chose him for her husband. Then Padmasena, having two wives, was continually worried by that wife Ádityaprabhá, who was jealous of her rival. And so Padmasena over and over again importuned his father Muktásena to the following effect: 'I cannot endure every day the ill-temper of my wife, who is blind with jealousy, let me retire to a wood of ascetics to put an end to this misery. Therefore, father, give me permission.' His father, annoyed at his persistence, cursed him and his wives, saying; 'What need is there of your going to a wood of ascetics? Fall into the world of mortals. There this quarrelsome wife of yours, Ádityaprabhá, shall be born in the race of Rákshasas, and become your wife again. And this second, Chandravatí, who is virtuous and attached to you, her husband, shall be the wife of a king, and the paramour of a Rákshasa, and shall obtain you as her beloved. And since this Rúpasena has been observed by me to follow you his elder brother with affection, he shall be your brother also in that world. There too you shall endure some affliction caused by your wives.' Thus he spoke and ceased, and appointed this as the termination of the curse; 'When you, being a prince, shall conquer the earth and give it to your father, then you and they shall remember your former birth, and be freed from your curse.' When Padmasena had been thus addressed by his own father, he went with those others to the world of mortals. I am that very Padmasena, born here as your son, Indívarasena by name, and I have done what I was appointed to do. And the other Vidyádhara prince, Rúpasena, has been born as Anichchhasena my younger brother. And as for my wives Ádityaprabhá [610] and Chandravatí, know that they have been born here as these two, Khadgadanshtrá and Madanadanshtrá. And now we have reached that appointed end of our curse. So let us go, father, to our own Vidyádhara home." Having said this, he together with his brother and his wives, who remembered their former existence, abandoned the human and assumed the Vidyádhara form. And having worshipped the feet of his father, and taken his two wives in his arms, he went with his younger brother through the air to his own city Muktápura. There the wise prince, gladly welcomed by his father Muktásena, a joy to the eyes of his mother, accompanied by his brother Rúpasena, lived with his Ádityaprabhá, who did not again display jealousy, and with Chandravatí in happiness. The minister Gomukha, having told this delightful tale on the road, again said to Naraváhanadatta; "Thus the great must endure great pains and gain great glory, but others have little pain and little glory. But you, protected by the might of the science of queen Ratnaprabhá, shall without difficulty gain that princess Karpúriká." When Naraváhanadatta heard this from the lips of the eloquent Gomukha, he set out on the path with him, insensible to fatigue. And as he travelled, he came in the evening to a pellucid lake, the lotuses on which were in full bloom, and which was full of an abundant supply of cold water, delicious as nectar. Its banks were adorned with pomegranate trees, bread-fruit trees, and rows of mango-trees, and on it the swans sang sweetly. They bathed in it, and devoutly worshipped the beloved [611] of the daughter of Himálaya and refreshed themselves with various fragrant, sweet-tasting, delightful fruits, and then the son of the king of Vatsa and his friend spent the night on the bank of the lake, sleeping on a bed strewn with soft young shoots. CHAPTER XLIII. The next morning, Naraváhanadatta rose up from the bank of that lake, [612] and setting out on his journey, said to his minister Gomukha; "My friend, I remember, a certain princess of heavenly beauty, dressed in white garments, came to me towards the end of last night in a dream, and said this to me--'Lay aside your anxiety, dear one, for you will quickly reach a large and wonderful town situated in a forest, on the shore of the sea. And after resting there, you shall with ease find that town Karpúrasambhava, and then win that princess Karpúriká.' Having said this, she disappeared, and I immediately woke up." When he said that, Gomukha was delighted and said to him--"King, you are favoured by the gods; what is difficult to you? So your enterprise will certainly succeed without difficulty." When Gomukha had said this, Naraváhanadatta hastened along the path with him. And in course of time he reached a city of vast extent on the shore of the sea, furnished with lofty mansions resembling the peaks of mountains, with streets, and arches, adorned with a palace all golden like mount Meru, looking like a second Earth. He entered that city by the market-street, and beheld that all the population, merchants, women, and citizens were wooden automata, that moved as if they were alive, but were recognised as lifeless by their want of speech. This aroused astonishment in his mind. And in due course he arrived with Gomukha near the king's palace, and saw that all the horses and elephants there were of the same material; and with his minister he entered, full of wonder, that palace, which was resplendent with seven ranges of golden buildings. There he saw a majestic man sitting on a jewelled throne, surrounded by warders and women, who were also wooden automata, the only living being there, who produced motion in those dull material things, like the soul presiding over the senses. He, for his part, seeing that that hero Naraváhanadatta was of noble form, rose up and welcomed him, and made him sit down on his own seat, and sitting in front of him, he thus questioned him, "Who are you; how and why have you come to this uninhabited land with one companion?" Then Naraváhanadatta told his own story from the beginning, and asked that hero, who was prostrating himself before him,--"Who are you, my good sir, and what is this wonderful city of yours? Tell me." That man, when he heard that, began to tell his own story. Story of the two brothers Pránadhara and Rájyadhara. There is a city named Kánchí possessed of great excellences, [613] which, like a girdle, well adorns the earth-bride. In it there was a famous king of the name of Báhubala, who won fortune by the might of his arm, and imprisoned her in his treasury, though she is a gadding dame. We were two brothers in his kingdom, carpenters by trade, skilful in making ingenious automata of wood and other materials, such as Maya [614] first invented. My elder brother was by name Pránadhara, and he was infatuated with love for a fickle dame, and I, my lord, am named Rájyadhara, and I was ever devoted to him. That brother of mine consumed all my father's property and his own, and some portion of what I had acquired, which melted by affection I made over to him. Then he, being much infatuated about the lady, out of desire to steal wealth for her sake, made a couple of swans of wood with mechanism and strings attached to them. That pair of swans was sent out at night by pulling the strings, and entering by means of the mechanical contrivance into the king's treasury through a window, they took from it with their beaks jewels placed in a basket, and returned to the house of my brother. And my elder brother sold the jewels and spent the money so acquired with his paramour, and in that way he robbed the king's treasury every night, and though I tried to prevent him, he would not give up that improper proceeding, for who, when blinded by passion, distinguishes between right and wrong? And then the keeper of the treasury, as the king's treasure-house was plundered night after night without the bolt being moved, though there were no mice in it, for several days in succession enquired into the matter, without saying anything, out of fear, and then being exceedingly vexed, went and told the whole matter plainly to the king. Then the king posted him and some other guards in the treasure-house at night, with orders to keep awake in order to find out the truth of it. Those guards went into the treasure-house at midnight, and while there, saw my brother's two swans entering there by the window, impelled by strings. The swans moved round by means of their mechanism and took the jewels, then the guards cut the strings, and took the swans to shew the king in the morning. And then my elder brother said in a state of bewilderment--"Brother, my two swans have been seized by the guards of the treasury, for the strings have become slack, and the pin of the mechanism has dropped. So we must both of us leave this place immediately, for the king, when he hears of it in the morning, will punish us as thieves. For we are both known to be skilled in mechanical contrivances. And I have here a chariot with a pneumatic contrivance, which quickly goes eight hundred yojanas, if you press a spring. Let us go by means of it to-day to a distant foreign land, though exile may be disagreeable; for how can an evil deed, that is done in despite of good advice, bring pleasure to any one? This is the mature fruit of my wickedness in not obeying your advice, which has extended to innocent you, as well as to me." After saying this, my brother Pránadhara immediately mounted with his family that chariot, that flew through the air. But though he urged me, I would not mount it, as it was laden with many people, so he flew up in it to the sky and went off to some distant place. When that Pránadhara, [615] who was rightly named, had gone off somewhere, I, expecting that in the morning I singly should he exposed to danger at the hands of the king, mounted another chariot with a pneumatic mechanism, which I had myself made, and quickly travelled two hundred yojanas from that place. Then I again started that air-travelling chariot, and went another two hundred yojanas. Then I left my chariot, terrified at finding that I was near the sea, and travelling on my feet, reached in course of time this city which was empty. And out of curiosity I entered this palace, which was filled with garments, ornaments, and couches and all the other conveniences fit for a king. And in the evening I bathed in the water of the garden-lake, and ate fruits, and going to the royal bed reflected alone at night--"What am I to do in this uninhabited spot? So to-morrow I will go hence to some place or other, for I no longer need fear danger from king Báhubala." When I had thus reflected, I went to sleep, and towards the end of night a hero of divine appearance, mounted on a peacock, thus addressed me in a dream; "You must live here, good sir, you must not depart elsewhere, and at the time of meals you must go up to the middle court of the palace, and wait there." Thus he spoke, and disappeared, and I woke up and reflected--"Undoubtedly this heavenly place has been made by Kártikeya, and he has favoured me with this dream on account of my merits in a former life. I have turned up here because I am to be happy dwelling in this town." I conceived this hope and rose up, and said the prayer for the day, and at the time of eating I went up to the middle court, and while I was waiting there, golden dishes were placed in front of me, and there fell into them from heaven food consisting of ghee, milk, rice, boiled rice and other things; [616] and any other kinds of food that I thought of, came to me as fast as I thought of them. After eating all this, I felt comforted by the favour of the god. So, my lord, I took up my abode in this city, with kingly luxuries coming to me every day as fast as I wished for them. But I do not obtain wives and retinue by thinking of them, so I made all these people of wood. Though I am a carpenter, since I have come here I enjoy alone all the pleasures of a king by the power of Destiny, and my name is Rájyadhara. [617] "So repose, now, a day in this god-built town, and I will attend upon you to the best of my ability." After saying this, Rájyadhara led off with him Naraváhanadatta and Gomukha to the city garden, there the prince bathed in the water of the lake and offered lotuses to Siva, and was conducted to the feasting-place in the middle court, and there he and his minister enjoyed viands which were placed before them by Rájyadhara, who stood in front of them, to whom they came as soon as he thought of them. Then the eating-ground was swept by some unseen hand, and after they had taken betel, they drank wine and remained in great felicity. And after Rájyadhara had eaten, the prince retired to a gorgeous couch, astonished at the wonderful nature of the town, which resembled the philosopher's stone. And when he could not sleep, on account of his recently conceived longing for Karpúriká, Rájyadhara, who was also in bed, asked her story, and then said to him--"Why do you not sleep, auspicious sir? You will obtain your desired love. For a fair woman, like Fortune, of her own accord chooses a man of high courage. I have had ocular proof of this, so hear the story; I will relate it to you." Story of Arthalobha and his beautiful wife. That king of Kánchí, Báhubala, whom I mentioned to you, had a rich door-keeper, rightly named Arthalobha. [618] He had a beautiful wife named Mánapará. That Arthalobha, being by profession a merchant, and on account of his avarice distrusting his servants, appointed that wife of his to look after his business in preference to them. She, though she did not like it, being obedient to him, made bargains with merchants and captivated all men by her sweet form and speech. And Arthalobha, seeing that all the sales of elephants, horses, jewels, and garments that she made, brought in a profit, rejoiced exceedingly. And once on a time there came there from a distant foreign land a merchant, named Sukhadhana, having a large stock of horses and other commodities. The moment Arthalobha heard that he had come, he said to his wife--"My dear, a merchant named Sukhadhana has arrived from a foreign land, he has brought twenty thousand horses, and innumerable pairs of excellent garments made in China, so please, go and purchase from him five thousand horses and ten thousand pairs of garments, in order that with the thousands of horses I already possess and those other five, I may pay a visit to the king, and carry on my commerce. When commissioned in these words by that villain Arthalobha, Mánapará went to Sukhadhana; whose eyes were captivated by her beauty, and who welcomed her gladly. And she demanded from him for a price those horses and garments. The merchant, overpowered with love, took her aside and said to her--"I will not give you one horse or garment for money, but if you will remain one night with me, I will give you five hundred horses and five thousand garments." After saying this, he solicited that fair one with even a larger amount; who does not fall in love with women, who are allowed to go about without restraint? Then she answered him--"I will ask my husband about this, for I know he will send me here out of excessive cupidity. [619]" After saying this, she went home, and told her husband what the merchant Sukhadhana had said to her secretly. And that wicked covetous husband Arthalobha said to her; "My dear, if you obtain five hundred horses and five thousand pairs of garments for one night, what is the harm in it. So go to him now; you shall return quickly in the morning." When Mánapará heard this speech of her mean-spirited husband's, she began to debate in her heart, and thus reflected--"Out on this base spiritless husband of mine that sells his honour! By continually meditating on gain he has become all made up of the desire of gain. It is better that the generous man, who buys me for one night with hundreds of horses and thousands of pieces of China silk, should be my husband." Thus reflecting, she took leave of her base husband, saying; "It is not my fault," and went to the house of that Sukhadhana. And he, when he saw that she had come, after questioning her and hearing the whole story from her, was astonished, and considered himself fortunate in obtaining her. And he sent off immediately to her husband Arthalobha the horses and garments that were to purchase her, as agreed upon. And he remained that night with her, having all his wishes attained, for she seemed like the fortune which was the fruit of his own wealth, incarnate in bodily form, at last obtained by him. And in the morning the base Arthalobha sent, in his shamelessness, servants to summon her, whereupon Mánapará said to them, "How can I again return to be the wife of that man who sold me to another? I am not as shameless as he is. Tell me yourselves if this would be becoming now. So depart, the man that bought me is my husband." When the servants were thus addressed by her, they went and repeated her words to Arthalobha with downcast faces. The mean fellow, when he heard it, wanted to recover her by force; then a friend of the name of Harabala said to him; "You cannot recover her from that Sukhadhana, for he is a hero, and I do not behold in you manliness corresponding to his. For he is moved to heroism by a woman that loves him on account of his generosity, and he is mighty, and surrounded with other mighty men that have come with him. But you have been deserted by your wife, who separated from you because you sold her out of meanness, and scorn makes you timid, and being reproached you have become effeminate. Moreover you are not mighty, and you are not surrounded by mighty friends, so how can you possibly be capable of vanquishing that rival? And the king will be angry with you, when he hears of your crime of selling your wife; so keep quiet, and do not make a ridiculous blunder." Though his friend tried to dissuade him with these words, Arthalobha went and beset, in his anger, the house of Sukhadhana with his retainers. While he was thus engaged, Sukhadhana sallied out with his friends and retainers, and in a moment easily defeated the whole of Arthalobha's force. Then Arthalobha fled, and went into the presence of the king. And concealing his own wicked conduct, he said to the king,--"O king, the merchant Sukhadhana has carried off my wife by force." And the king, in his rage, wished to arrest that Sukhadhana. Then a minister of the name of Sandhána said to the king--"In any case, my lord, you cannot arrest him, for when his force is increased by that of the eleven friends who have come with him, he will be found to have more than a hundred thousand excellent horses. And you have not discovered the truth about the matter, for his conduct will turn out to be not altogether without cause. So you had better send a messenger, and ask what it is that this fellow here is chattering about." When king Báhubala heard this, he sent a messenger to Sukhadhana to ask about the matter. The messenger went, and asked about the matter by the king's order, and thereupon Mánapará told him her story. When Báhubala heard that wonderful tale, he came to the house of Sukhadhana to behold the beauty of Mánapará, being filled with excessive curiosity. There he beheld, while Sukhadhana bent before him, Mánapará, who with the wealth of her beauty would astonish even the Creator. She prostrated herself at his feet, and he questioned her, and heard from her own mouth how the whole thing happened, Arthalobha being present and listening. When he heard it, he thought it was true, because Arthalobha was speechless, and he asked that fair one what was to be done now. Then she said decidedly, "How can I return to that spiritless avaricious man, who sold me to another man without the excuse of distress?" When the king heard this, he said, "Well said," and then Arthalobha bewildered with desire, wrath, and shame, exclaimed,--"King, let him and me fight with our own retainers, without any auxiliary forces; then let it be seen who is spirited and who is spiritless." When Sukhadhana heard this, he said--"Then let us fight in single combat, what need is there of retainers? Mánapará shall be the prize of the victor." When the king heard this, he said, "Good! so let it be!" Then, before the eyes of Mánapará and the king, they both entered the lists mounted. And in the course of the combat, Sukhadhana laid Arthalobha on the plain, by his horse's rearing on account of a lance-wound. Then Arthalobha fell three times more on the earth, on account of his horse being killed, but Sukhadhana, who was a fair fighter, restrained himself and would not slay him. But the fifth time Arthalobha's horse fell upon him, and bruised him, and he was carried off by his servants motionless. Then Sukhadhana was cheered by all the spectators with shouts of applause, and the king Báhubala honoured him as he deserved. And he immediately bestowed a gift of honour upon the lady, and he confiscated the property of Arthalobha, which had been acquired by unlawful means; and appointing another to his office, he departed pleased to his palace. For good men derive satisfaction from breaking off their connection with the bad. And Sukhadhana, having maintained his claim by force, remained enjoying himself in the society of Mánapará his loving wife. "Thus wives and wealth leave the mean-spirited man, and of their own accord come to the high-spirited man from every quarter. So dismiss anxiety! Go to sleep! in a short time, my lord, you will obtain that princess Karpúriká." When Naraváhanadatta heard that sound advice of Rájyadhara's, he and Gomukha went off to sleep. And in the morning, while the prince was waiting awhile after his meal, the wise Gomukha addressed Rájyadhara as follows: "Make such an ingenious chariot for my master, as that he shall be able by means of it to reach the city of Karpúrasambhava, and obtain his beloved." When thus supplicated, that carpenter offered Naraváhanadatta the chariot with a pneumatic contrivance, that he had made before. He ascended that sky-travelling chariot, swift as thought, together with Gomukha, and crossed the deep, the home of monsters, that agitated its waves as if exulting to behold his valour, and reached the city of Karpúrasambhava on its shore. There the chariot descended from the sky, and he and Gomukha left it, and out of curiosity wandered about inside the town. And by questioning the people he found out that he had indeed without doubt reached the desired city, and delighted he went to the neighbourhood of the palace. There he found a splendid house occupied by an old woman, and he entered it to stay there, and she received him with respect. And eager to hit upon an artifice, he immediately asked that woman, "Noble lady, what is the name of the king here, and what children has he? And tell us of their appearance, for we are foreigners." When he said this to the old woman, she, seeing that he was of excessively noble form, answered--"Listen, illustrious sir, I will tell you all. In this city of Karpúrasambhava there is a king named Karpúraka. And he, having no children, performed penance, with his wife Buddhikárí, fasting, in honour of Siva, in order to obtain offspring. After he had fasted for three nights, the god Siva commanded him in a dream--'Rise up, a daughter shall be born to you, who shall be superior to a son, and whose husband shall obtain the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas.' After receiving this order from Siva, the king woke up in the morning; and, after communicating this dream to his wife Buddhikárí, he rose up and went off delighted, and with his queen broke his fast. And then in a short time that queen conceived by the king, and when the period was completed, she brought forth a daughter beautiful in all her limbs. She surpassed in splendour the lights in the lying-in chamber, [620] and they, as it were, heaved sighs by discharging lamp-black. And her father made great rejoicings, and gave her the name of Karpúriká, which is his own name made feminine. And gradually that moonlight of the eyes of the people, the princess Karpúriká, has grown up, and is now in the full bloom of youth. And her father, the king here, desires to have her married, but the haughty girl detests men, and will not consent. And when my daughter, who is her friend, put this question to her 'My dear, why do you not desire marriage, the only fruit of a daughter's birth?' she answered, 'My dear, I remember my former birth, and the cause is something which happened then; hear it." Story of the princess Karpúriká in her birth as a swan. On the shore of the ocean there is a great sandal-wood tree. Near it there is a lake adorned with full-blown lotuses. I was a female swan on that lake on account of my actions in a previous birth. Once on a time, out of fear of the sea, I made a nest in that sandal-wood tree with my husband, who was a male swan. When I was dwelling in that nest, I had male offspring born to me, and suddenly a great wave of the sea came and carried them off. When the flood carried away my children, out of grief I wept and took no food; and remained in front of a linga of Siva on the shore of the sea. Then that male swan, my husband, came to me and said--"Rise up, why do you lament your children that are dead, we shall get other ones. [621] As long as life is preserved, everything can be obtained." His speech pierced my heart like an arrow, and I reflected--"Alas! males are thus wickedly regardless of their youthful offspring, and show no affection to, or compassion for their females, though they are attached to them. So of what comfort is this husband to me? Of what use is this body that brings only pain?" Thus reflecting, I prostrated myself before Siva, and devoutly placed him in my heart, and then in front of his symbol, before the eyes of the swan, my husband, I uttered this prayer; "May I become in the next birth a princess remembering my former state,"--and thereupon I flung myself into the sea. Consequently, I have been born in this life such as you see. And because I remember the cruelty of that husband in a former birth, my mind does not feel inclined to any suitor. So I do not desire to be married; the rest is in the hands of Destiny. "This is what the princess said then in private to my daughter, and that daughter of mine came and told it to me." "So, my son, I have told you what you asked me. And that princess is undoubtedly destined to be your wife. For she was long ago designated by the god Siva as the wife of the future emperor of the Vidyádharas. And I see that you are marked with all the distinguishing signs of an emperor, such as the peculiar freckle, and other marks. Perhaps you are some distinguished person brought here by Providence for that very purpose. Rise up, for the present we will see what there is in my house in the way of provision." After the old lady had told him this, she brought him food, and he and Gomukha spent the night there. And in the morning, the prince deliberated in private with Gomukha as to the steps to be taken, and then he assumed the dress of a Pásupata ascetic, and accompanied by Gomukha, he went to the king's gate, and roamed about in front of it, crying out again and again--"Ah my female swan! Ah my female swan!" And the people gazed at him. And when the maids beheld him thus employed, they went in astonishment and said to the princess Karpúriká; "Your Highness! we have seen at the royal gate a Pásupata ascetic who, though he has a fellow, is unfellowed in beauty, [622] and he continually utters these words, 'Ah my female swan! Ah my female swan!' which bewilders the minds of the women." When the princess heard this, she, as having been a swan in a former birth, was filled with curiosity, and had him, just as he was, conducted by her maids into her presence. And she saw that he was adorned with infinite beauty, like a new god of Love that had taken a vow to propitiate Siva. And she said to him, when he looked at her with an eye expanded by curiosity, "What is this that you are continually saying, 'Ah! my female swan! Ah! my female swan?'" Though she said this to him, he went on to say--"Ah! my female swan!" Then his companion Gomukha answered her; "I will explain this in a few words, listen, Your Highness. "In a former birth he was a swan on account of his actions in an anterior state of existence. Then he built himself a nest in a sandal-wood tree, on the bank of a great lake near the shore of the sea, and lived there with his female. And as it happened, their offspring in that nest were swept away by a wave, and his female, distracted with grief, threw herself into the sea. Then he, being grieved at separation from her, and disgusted with his bird-nature, desirous of leaving that body, made a pious wish in his heart--'May I be in a future life a prince remembering my former state, and may this virtuous female swan be my wife, remembering her former existence also.' Then he thought on Siva, and scorched with the fire of grief, flung that body into the water of the sea. So he has been now born, my fair lady, as Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa in Kausámbí, with the power of recollecting his former existence. When he was born, a voice said distinctly from heaven; 'This prince shall be the emperor of all the kings of the Vidyádharas.' In course of time, when he had become crown-prince, he was married by his father to the goddess Madanamanchuká of heavenly appearance, who had been born for a certain reason as a woman. And then the daughter of a king of the Vidyádharas named Hemaprabha, the maiden Ratnaprabhá, came of her own accord, and chose him for a husband. Nevertheless, thinking on that female swan, he does not enjoy tranquillity; and he told this to me, who have been his servant from my childhood. Then, while he was out hunting, it happened that he and I had a meeting in the forest with a holy female hermit. And in the course of conversation she said to him with favouring condescension--'Owing to the effect of his actions the god of Love, my son, became a swan. And a heavenly female, that had fallen through a curse, became his dear wife, when he was dwelling, as a swan, in a sandal-wood tree on the bank of the sea. But she threw herself into the sea, through grief at her offspring having been carried away by the tide, and then the male swan flung himself into the sea also. He has now by the favour of Siva been born as yourself, the son of the king of Vatsa, and you know of that former birth of yours, my son, for you remember your former existence. And that female swan has been now born in Karpúrasambhava, a city on the shore of the sea, as a princess, Karpúriká by name. Therefore, go there, my son, and win her to wife.' When the holy female hermit had said this, she flew up into the sky and disappeared. And this lord of mine, having heard this information, immediately set out with me to come here. And being attracted by love for you, he risked his life, and after traversing a hundred difficulties, he reached the shore of the sea. There we had an interview with the carpenter, named Rájyadhara, who dwells in Hemapura, and who gave us an ingenious chariot. We have mounted on this terrible machine, as if it were our courage having taken shape, [623] and have crossed the perilous gulf of the sea, and arrived at this town. For this reason, queen, my master wandered about, exclaiming, 'Ah my female swan!' until he came into your presence. Now, from the pleasing sight of the noble moon of your countenance, he enjoys the removal of the darkness caused by the presence of innumerable woes. Now, honour your noble guest with the blue lotus garland of your look." When Karpúriká heard this feigned speech of Gomukha's, she thought it was true, relying on the fact that it harmonized with her own recollections. And she melted in her soul with love, and she thought, "After all this husband of mine was attached to me, and my despondency was causeless." And she said--"I am in truth that very female swan, and I am fortunate in that my husband has for my sake endured suffering in two births. So now I am your slave, overcome by love;" and saying this, she honoured Naraváhanadatta with baths and other hospitalities. Then she informed her father of all this by the mouth of her attendants, and he, the moment he heard it, came to her. Then the king thought himself fortunate, having seen that his daughter had conceived a desire to be married, and that an appropriate suitor for her had at length arrived in Naraváhanadatta, who was marked with all the signs of a great emperor. And he gave, with all due honour, his daughter Karpúriká to Naraváhanadatta according to the prescribed form. And he gave to that son-in-law of his, at every circumambulation from left to right of the sacred fire, thirty millions of gold-pieces, and as many lumps of camphor, the heaps of which appeared like the peaks of Meru and Kailása that had witnessed the marriage of Párvatí, come to behold his magnificence. Moreover the king Karpúraka, who had attained his wish, gave Naraváhanadatta a hundred millions of excellent garments and three hundred female slaves well adorned. And Naraváhanadatta, after his marriage, remained with that Karpúriká, as if with affection incarnate in bodily form. Whose mind was not delighted at the union of that couple, which resembled the marriage of the spring-creeper and the spring-festival? And on the next day Naraváhanadatta, who had attained his object, said to his beloved Karpúriká, "Come, let us go to Kausámbí." Then she answered him--"If it is to be so, why should we not go there immediately in this chariot of yours that flies through the air? If it is too small, I will furnish another large one, for there is living here a mechanic who makes ingenious chariots, who has come from a foreign land, Pránadhara by name; I will cause him quickly to make such a chariot." After saying this, she called the warder that kept the door, and said to him--"Go and order that chariot-maker Pránadhara to prepare a large chariot, that will travel through the air, for us to start in." Then the queen Karpúriká, having dismissed the warder, informed her father by the mouth of a slave of her desire to depart. And while the king, on hearing it, was coming thither, Naraváhanadatta thus reflected; "This Pránadhara is certainly the brother of Rájyadhara, whom he described as having run away from his native land through fear of his king." While he was thus thinking, the king quickly arrived, and that mechanic Pránadhara came with the warder, and said--"I have ready-made a very large chariot, which will easily carry at this instant thousands of men." When the mechanic said this, Naraváhanadatta said "Bravo!" and asked him courteously; "Are you the elder brother of Rájyadhara, skilled in various very great mechanical contrivances?" And Pránadhara answered him, bowing before him--"I am that very brother of his, but how does Your Highness know about us?" Then Naraváhanadatta told him what Rájyadhara had told him, and how he had seen him. Then Pránadhara joyfully brought him the chariot, and he mounted it with Gomukha, after having been politely dismissed by his father-in-law the king, and after bidding farewell to him; but first he placed in it the slaves, camphor and gold. And he took with him Pránadhara, whom the king permitted to depart, and that head-warder, and his recently married wife Karpúriká; and his mother-in-law uttered a solemn prayer for a blessing on his journey, and from those stores of splendid garments he bestowed gifts on the Bráhmans; and he said to Pránadhara--"First let us go to Rájyadhara on the shore of the sea, and then home." Then the chariot was driven on by Pránadhara, and the king and his wife flew up into the air quickly by means of it, as if by his accomplished wish. [624] In a moment he crossed the sea, and reached again that city of Hemapura on its shore, the abode of that Rájyadhara. There Rájyadhara bowed before him, delighted at beholding his brother, and as he had no female slaves, the prince honoured him with the gift of some, at which he greatly rejoiced. And after taking leave of Rájyadhara, whose tears flowed fast, as he could hardly bear to part from his elder brother, the prince reached Kausámbí in that same chariot. Then the people, on beholding the prince unexpectedly descend from heaven, riding in that splendid chariot, followed by his retainers, and accompanied by his new bride, were much astonished. And his father, the king of Vatsa, having gathered from the exultations of the citizens that his son had arrived, was delighted, and went out to meet him, accompanied by the queen, the ministers, his daughter-in-law, and other persons. And the king, beholding that son prostrate at his feet with his wife, received him gladly, and thought that the fact, that he was to be the future emperor of the aerial spirits, was clearly revealed by his coming in a flying chariot. His mother Vásavadattá, with Padmávatí, embraced him, and she shed a tear, which dropped like the knot of pain loosened by seeing him. And his wife Ratnaprabhá was delighted, and Madanamanchuká also, and their jealousy being overcome by love for him, they embraced his feet, and won his heart at the same time. And the prince delighted his father's ministers, headed by Yaugandharáyana, and his own, headed by Marubhúti, when they bowed before him, by rewarding them as they severally deserved. And they all, with the king of Vatsa at their head, welcomed that new wife Karpúriká, who bowed becomingly before them, like the goddess of Fortune arrived surrounded by a hundred immortal nymphs, even the sister-shape of Amrita, [625] openly brought by her husband, having crossed the sea adorned with its shore as a garment with a beautiful fringe. And the king of Vatsa honoured that warder of her father's, giving him many crores of gold-pieces, garments and lumps of camphor, which had been brought in the chariot. And the king then honoured Pránadhara as the benefactor of his son Naraváhanadatta, who had pointed him out as the maker of the chariot. And then the king honoured Gomukha, and asked him joyfully, "How did you obtain this princess? And how did you start from this place?" And then Gomukha deftly told the king of Vatsa, with his wives and ministers, in private, the whole adventure, as it took place, beginning with their going to the forest to hunt,----how they met the female hermit, and how they crossed the sea by means of the chariot provided by Rájyadhara, and how Karpúriká was obtained with her female attendants, though she was averse to marriage, and how they returned by the way by which they went, in a chariot which they obtained by finding Pránadhara. Then all of them, shaking their heads in astonishment and joy, said--"To think of the concurrence of all these circumstances, the chase, and the female ascetic, the carpenter Rájyadhara skilled in mechanical contrivances found on the shore of the sea, the crossing the ocean in the chariot that he made, and that another maker of these chariots should have previously reached the other side of the ocean! The truth is, Destiny takes trouble to provide the fortunate with the means of obtaining prosperous success." Then all respectfully commended Gomukha for his devotion to his lord. And they praised queen Ratnaprabhá, who by her knowledge protected her lord on his journey, for she produced general satisfaction by acting like a woman devoted to her husband. Then Naraváhanadatta, having made his party of air-travellers forget the fatigues of their journey, entered his palace with his father, and mother, his wives and other relations. Then his treasury was filled with heaps of gold by the friends and relations who came to see him, and whom he honoured, and he loaded Pránadhara and his father-in-law's warder with wealth. And Pránadhara, immediately after he had taken food, respectfully addressed this petition to him--"Prince, king Karpúriká gave us the following order--'You must come back quickly as soon as my daughter has reached her husband's palace, in order that I may have early news of her arrival.' So we must certainly go there quickly this very moment; give us a letter from Karpúriká to the king written with her own hand. For otherwise the heart of the king, which is attached to his daughter, will not take comfort. For he, never having mounted an air-chariot, fears that we may have fallen from it. So give me the letter, and permit this head-warder, who is desirous of ascending the chariot, to depart with me. But I will return here, crown-prince, and will bring my family, for I cannot abandon the two ambrosial lotuses of your feet." When Pránadhara said this firmly, the son of the king of Vatsa immediately made Karpúriká sit down to write that letter. It ran as follows, "My father, you must not feel anxious about me, since I share the happiness and possess the love of a good husband; was the goddess Lakshmí an object of anxiety to the ocean after she had betaken herself to the Supreme Bridegroom?" When she had written the above letter with her own hand, and given it, the son of the king of Vatsa dismissed the warder and Pránadhara with honour. And they ascended the chariot, and produced astonishment in the minds of all, as they were seen going through the air, and crossing the sea they went to the city of Karpúrasambhava. There they delighted the king Karpúraka by reading out his daughter's letter, which told that she had reached her husband's palace. The next day Pránadhara took leave of the king, and after visiting Rájyadhara, repaired with his family into the presence of Naraváhanadatta. Naraváhanadatta, when he had returned thus quickly after accomplishing his mission, gave him a dwelling near his palace and an ample allowance. And he amused himself, and his wives, by going about in the flying chariots made by him, as if rehearsing future journeyings in the skies as emperor of the Vidyádharas. Thus, having delighted his friends, followers and wives, and obtained a third wife Karpúriká in addition to Ratnaprabhá and Madanamanchuká, the son of the king of Vatsa spent those days in happiness. BOOK VIII. CHAPTER XLIV. Victory to the elephant-headed god, [626] who, reddening the sky with the vermilion dye shaken off by the wind of his flapping ears, seems to create sunset, even when it is not due. Thus Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, dwelt happily in his father's house, after he had won those wives. And one day, when he was in his father's assembly-hall, he saw a man of heavenly appearance come there, descending from heaven. And after he and his father had welcomed the man, who bowed before him, he immediately asked him, "Who are you and why have you come?" Then he answered--"There is a city in this earth on the ridge of Himavat, called Vajrakúta, [627] and rightly so called, as being all made of diamond. There I dwelt, as a king of the Vidyádharas named Vajraprabha, and my name too was rightly given me, because my body is framed of diamond. And I received this command from Siva, (who was pleased with my austerities,) "If thou remainest loyal at the appointed time to the emperor created by me, thou shalt become by my favour invincible to thy enemies." Accordingly I have come here without delay to pay my respects to my sovereign: for I have already perceived by means of my science that the son of the king of Vatsa, (who is born of a portion of the god of Love, and appointed by the god who wears a digit of the moon,) though a mortal, shall be sole emperor over both divisions of our territory. [628] And though, by the favour of Siva, a prince of the name of Súryaprabha was ruler over us for a kalpa of the gods, still he was only lord in the southern division, but in the northern division a prince called Srutasarman was emperor; but your majesty, being destined for great good fortune, shall be sole emperor here over the wanderers of the air, and your dominion shall endure for a kalpa." When the Vidyádhara said this, Naraváhanadatta, in the presence of the king of Vatsa, said to him again out of curiosity: "How did Súryaprabha, being a man, obtain of old time the sovereignty over the Vidyádharas? Tell us." Then in private, that is to say, in the presence of the queens and ministers, the king Vajraprabha began to tell that tale. Story of Súryaprabha, and how he attained sovereignty over the Vidyádharas. Of old there was in the country of the people of Madra a town named Sákala; [629] Chandraprabha, the son of Angáraprabha, was king of it, whose name expressed his nature, as he delighted the whole world, but he was like fire in that he scorched his enemies. By his wife, named Kírtimatí, there was born to that king a son, whose future glory was indicated by his exceedingly auspicious marks. And when he was born, a clear voice sounded from heaven, which rained nectar into the ears of king Chandraprabha, "This king, now born, named Súryaprabha, is appointed by Siva as the future emperor over the kings of the Vidyádharas. Then that prince Súryaprabha grew up in the house of his father, who was distinguished by the delightful favour of the enemy of Pura, [630] and he being very clever, gradually acquired, while still a child, all knowledge and all the accomplishments by sitting at the feet of a teacher; and then, when he was sixteen years old, and captivated the subjects by his virtues, his father Chandraprabha appointed him crown-prince, and he gave him the sons of his own ministers, many in number, Bhása, Prabhása, Siddhártha, Prahasta and others. And while he was bearing with them the burden of a crown-prince's duty, one day a great Asura of the name of Maya came there, and Maya went up in the assembly-hall to king Chandraprabha, who welcomed him, and said to him in the presence of Súryaprabha, "King, this son of yours, Súryaprabha, has been appointed as the future emperor of the kings of the Vidyádharas by Siva; so why does he not acquire the magic sciences that will put him in possession of the dignity? For this reason I am sent here by the god Siva. Permit me to take him, and teach him the right method of employing the sciences, which will be the cause of his obtaining the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas. For he has a rival in this business, a lord of the sky-goers named Srutasarman; he too has been appointed by Siva. But this prince, after acquiring the power of the sciences, shall conquer him with our help, and become emperor over the lords of the Vidyádharas." When Maya said this, king Chandraprabha said--"We are fortunate; let this auspicious one be taken by you wherever you wish." Then Maya took leave of the king, and quickly carried off to Pátála Súryaprabha and his ministers, whom the king permitted to depart. There he taught the prince ascetic practices of such a kind, that by means of them the prince and his ministers quickly acquired the sciences. And he taught him also the art of providing himself with magic chariots, so that he acquired a chariot named Bhútásana. Then Maya brought Súryaprabha, mounted on that chariot, with his ministers, having acquired the sciences, back to his own city from Pátála. And after he had led him into the presence of his parents, he said to him, "Now I depart, enjoy here all the enjoyments given by your magic knowledge until I return." After saying this, the Asura Maya departed, after having been duly honoured, and king Chandraprabha rejoiced in his son's having acquired the sciences. Then Súryaprabha, by virtue of the sciences, was continually roaming through many countries in his chariot, with his ministers, to amuse himself. And wherever any princess beheld him, she was immediately bewildered by love, and chose him for her husband. The first was the virgin daughter of the king of Támraliptí, who was called Vírabhata; her name was Madanasená, and she was the first beauty of the world. The second was Chandrikávatí the daughter of Subhata, the emperor of the western border, who had been carried off by the Siddhas and left somewhere else. And the third was the famous daughter of Kumbhíra, the king of the city of Kánchí, Varunasená by name, remarkable for her beauty. And the fourth was the daughter of king Paurava, sovereign of Lávánaka, Sulochaná by name, with lovely eyes. And the fifth was the daughter of king Suroha, the lord of the land of China, Vidyunmálá with charming limbs, yellow as gold. And the sixth was the daughter of king Kántisena, ruler in the land of Sríkantha, surpassing in beauty the Apsarases. And the seventh was Parapushtá, the daughter of king Janamejaya, the lord of the city of Kausámbí, a sweet-voiced maid. And though the relations of these maidens, who were carried off by a surprise, found out what had happened, still, as the prince was confident in the might of his supernatural science, they were pliant as canes. These wives also acquired the sciences, and Súryaprabha associated with them all at the same time, taking many bodies by his magic skill. Then he amused himself, in the company of these wives, and of the ministers Prahasta and others, with roaming in the air, with concerts, drinking-parties and other amusements. Possessing heavenly skill in painting, he drew the Vidyádhara females, and in that way, and by making sportive sarcastic speeches, he enraged those charmers, and he was amused at their faces, furrowed with frowns, and with reddened eyes, and at their speeches, the syllables of which faltered on their trembling lips. And that prince went with his wives to Támraliptí, and roaming through the air sported in the gardens with Madanasená. And having left his wives there, he went in the chariot Bhútásana, and accompanied by Prahasta only, visited the city called Vajrarátra. There he carried off the daughter of king Rambha before his eyes, Tárávalí by name, who was enamoured of him, and burning with the fire of love. And he came back to Támraliptí, and there carried off again another maiden princess, by name Vilásiní. And when her haughty brother Sahasráyudha was annoyed at it, he paralyzed him by his supernatural power. And he also stupefied Sahasráyudha's mother's brother, who came with him, and all his retainers, and made his head shorn of hair, because he wished to carry off his beloved ones. But though he was angry, he spared to slay them both, because they were his wife's relatives, but he taunted them, who were downcast on account of the overthrow of their pride, and let them go. Then Súryaprabha, surrounded by nine wives, having been summoned by his father, returned in his chariot to his city Sákala. And then king Vírabhata sent from Támraliptí an ambassador to Súryaprabha's father, king Chandraprabha, and gave him the following message to deliver--"Your son has carried off my two daughters, but let that be, for he is a desirable husband for them, as he is a master of supernatural sciences, but, if you love us, come here now, in order that we may make a friendship based upon the due performance of marriage rites and hospitality." Thereupon king Chandraprabha rewarded the messenger, and determined that he would quickly start for that place on the morrow. But he sent Prahasta, as an ambassador to Vírabhata, in order to make sure of his sincerity, and gave him Bhútásana to travel in. Prahasta went quickly and had an interview with king Vírabhata, and questioned him about the business, and was informed and highly honoured by him, [631] and promised him, who smiled graciously, that his masters would come early next morning, and then he returned in a moment to Chandraprabha through the air. And he told that king that Vírabhata was ready to receive him. The king, for his part, being pleased, shewed honour to that minister of his son's. Then king Chandraprabha with queen Kírtimatí, and Súryaprabha with Vilásiní and Madanasená, mounted that chariot Bhútásana, and went off early next day with retinue and ministers. In one watch only of the day they reached Támraliptí, being beheld, as they passed through the air, by the people with eyes the lashes of which were upraised through wonder. And descending from the sky, they entered the city side by side with king Vírabhata, who came out to meet them; the beautiful streets of the town were irrigated at every step with sandal-wood water, and seemed to be strewed with blue lotuses by means of the sidelong glances of the city ladies. There Vírabhata honoured his connexion and his son-in-law, and duly performed the marriage ceremony of his daughters. And king Vírabhata gave at the marriage-altar of those daughters, a thousand loads of pure gold, and a hundred camels laden with burdens of ornaments made of jewels; and five hundred camels laden with loads of various garments, and fifty thousand horses, and five thousand elephants, and a thousand lovely women adorned with beauty and jewels. And moreover he gratified his son-in-law Súryaprabha and his parents with valuable jewels and territories. And he duly honoured his ministers, Prahasta and others, and he made a feast at which all the people of the city rejoiced. And Súryaprabha remained there in the company of his parents, and his beloved wives, enjoying delights, consisting of various dainties, wines, and music. In the meanwhile an ambassador arrived from Rambha in Vajrarátra, and in the hall of assembly delivered this message from his master: "The crown-prince Súryaprabha, confiding in the might of his sciences, has insulted us by carrying off our daughter. But to-day we have come to know, that he has undertaken to be reconciled to king Vírabhata, whose misfortune is the same as ours. If in the same way you agree to be reconciled to us, come here also quickly, if not, we will in this matter salve our honour by death." When king Chandraprabha heard that, he honoured the ambassador, and said to him, "Go to that Rambha and give him this message from me: 'Why do you afflict yourself without cause? For Súryaprabha is now appointed by Siva the future emperor of the Vidyádharas; and inspired sages have declared that your daughter and others are to be his wives. So your daughter has attained her proper place, but you being stern were not asked for her. So be appeased, you are our friend, we will come to your residence also.'" When Prahasta received this message from the king, he went through the air, and in a single watch he reached Vajrarátra. There he told his message to Rambha, and having been gladly received by him, he returned as he came, and reported it to king Chandraprabha. Then Chandraprabha sent his minister Prabhása, and had king Rambha's daughter Tárávalí conducted to him from Sákala. Then he departed in the air-chariot with Súryaprabha, being dismissed with great honour by king Vírabhata and all others. And he reached Vajrarátra, which was full of people awaiting his arrival, and was met by Rambha, and entered his palace. There Rambha, having performed the great feast of the marriage ceremony, gave his daughter countless stores of gold, elephants, horses, jewels, and other valuables. And he gratified so lavishly his son-in-law Súryaprabha, that he forgot all his own luxuries. And while they were remaining there delighted with feasts, an ambassador came from the city of Kánchí to Rambha. Rambha having heard his message, said to king Chandraprabha--"King, the lord of Kánchí, named Kumbhíra, is my elder brother; he has to-day sent me a trustworthy messenger to speak this speech; 'Súryaprabha first carried off my daughter, then yours. And now you have made friendship with him and his father, as I hear, so bring about my friendship also with them. Let them come to my house, that I may with my own hand give my daughter Varunasená to Súryaprabha.' So grant this request of my brother's." When Rambha made this request, Chandraprabha granted it, and sent Prahasta and had Varunasená brought quickly from the city of Sákala to her father Kumbhíra. And the next day, he and Súryaprabha and Rambha, and Vírabhata and all, with their attendants, went to the city of Kánchí. And after they had been met by Kumbhíra, they entered the city of Kánchí, as it were the girdle of the earth, full of many jewels and adorned with excellences. [632] There Kumbhíra bestowed his daughter on Súryaprabha with the usual ceremonies, and gave much wealth to the young couple. And when the marriage had taken place, Prahasta, after taking food, said to Chandraprabha, who was all joyfulness, in the presence of all, "King, in the country of Sríkantha I had an interview with the king of that land; there king Kántisena whom I thus happened to see, said to me--'Let Súryaprabha come to my house with that daughter of mine, whom he has carried off, I will perform the ceremony for him according to rule. If he refuses, I will abandon the body, distracted by love for my daughter.' This is what he then said to me, and I have now mentioned it on the proper occasion." When Prahasta said this, king Chandraprabha answered, "Go then, take Kántimatí to him, we will go there also." When the king said this to him, Prahasta went off that moment through the air, and did as he had commanded. And next morning Chandraprabha and all, with Kumbhíra, went to the land of Sríkantha in the air-travelling chariot. There king Kántisena came to meet them, and making them enter his palace, performed the auspicious ceremony of his daughter's marriage. Then he gave to Kántimatí and Súryaprabha an endless quantity of jewels, which excited the wonder of the kings. While they were all remaining there, enjoying all kinds of pleasures, a messenger came from Kausámbí and said--"King Janamejaya sends this message to your honours, 'My daughter, of the name of Parapushtá, has been carried off by some one lately. And I have found out to-day, that she has come into the power of Súryaprabha, so let him come with her to my house without fear. I will perform the marriage ceremony according to rule, and so dismiss him with his wife, otherwise you will be my enemies, and I shall be yours.'" Having thus delivered his master's message, the ambassador remained silent: then king Chandraprabha said to them apart--"How can we go to the house of that king who sends such haughty messages?" When the king's minister named Siddhártha heard that, he said, "Do not entertain wrong notions, king, for he is justified in using such language. For that king is very generous, learned and sprung of a noble race, a hero, one who has offered the Asvamedha sacrifice, ever unconquered by others. How can he have spoken anything unbecoming in speaking according to facts? And as for the enmity which he threatens, he does that now on account of Indra. So you must go to his house, for he is a king faithful to his engagements. Nevertheless send some one to find out his intentions." When they heard this speech of Siddhártha's, they all approved it. Then king Chandraprabha sent Prahasta to sound Janamejaya, and honoured his messenger. And Prahasta went, and after making an agreement with the king of Kausámbí, brought a letter from him, and satisfied Chandraprabha. The king quickly sent that Prahasta, and had Parapushtá conducted from Sákala to Janamejaya. Then Chandraprabha and the other kings, preceded by Súryaprabha, [633] with Kántisena, went to Kausámbí in the chariot. There the king Janamejaya courteously honoured his son-in-law, and his connexion and all the others, by advancing to meet them, and other ceremonies. And after he had performed the ceremony of the marriage-rite, he gave five thousand elephants and one hundred thousand excellent horses, and also five thousand camels laden with full burdens of jewels, gold, precious apparel, camphor and aloes-wood. And he made such a feast, that even the realm of Pluto was exclusively engaged in dancing and music, a feast in which excellent Bráhmans were honoured, and all kings gratified. And in the meanwhile the heaven there suddenly became red, as if indicating that it would soon be dyed crimson with blood. And the sky suddenly became full of confused hurtling noises, as if terrified at beholding a hostile army coming in the air. And a mighty wind immediately began to blow, as if exciting the inhabitants of earth to war against the wanderers of the air. And immediately a great Vidyádhara army was seen in the air, illuminating with brightness the circle of the horizon, loud-shouting, impetuous. And in the midst of it Súryaprabha and the others beheld with astonishment a very handsome heavenly youth. And at that moment the herald of the Vidyádharas proclaimed with a loud voice in front of that youth, whose name was Dámodara: "Victory to the crown-prince Dámodara son of king Áshádha! O mortal, dweller on the earth, Súryaprabha, fall at his feet. And do homage, O Janamejaya; why have you given your daughter to an undeserver? Propitiate, both of you, this god at once, otherwise he will not be appeased." When Súryaprabha heard this, and saw that army, he was wroth, and seizing his sword and shield, he flew up into the heaven by his science. And all his ministers flew up after him, with their weapons in their hands, Prahasta, and Prabhása, and Bhása, and Siddhártha, and Prajnádhya, and Sarvadamana, and Vítabhíti and Subhankara. And the Vidyádharas fought a great fight with them. And on one side Súryaprabha, and on the other Dámodara advanced, not slaying their enemies with their swords, but receiving their weapons on their shields. Those men, few in number, and those air-roamers, a hundred thousand in number, found equality in battle, fighting with one another. And all sword-blades there flashed red with blood, falling on the heads of heroes, like the glances of the god of death. And the Vidyádharas fell on the earth with their heads and their bodies, in front of Chandraprabha, as if imploring protection out of fear. Súryaprabha shone in the world with the glory of the Vidyádharas which he had seen. The sky was red with blood, as if with vermilion shed abroad. And Súryaprabha at last reached, and fought face to face with Dámodara, who was armed with a sword and a shield. And as he fought, he broke through his enemy's guard by a skilful management of his weapons, and laid him on the earth, having cleft his shield with his sword. And while he was preparing to cut off the head of his struggling foe, Vishnu came and made a threatening sound in the sky. Then Súryaprabha, having heard that sound, and having beheld Hari, prostrated himself, and out of respect for the god spared to slay Dámodara. Hari carried him off somewhere as his votary, and saved him from death, for the adorable one delivers in this world and the next his faithful followers. And the troops of Dámodara fled in different directions. Súryaprabha, for his part, descended from heaven to his father's side. And his father Chandraprabha welcomed him, on his returning unwounded with his ministers, and the other kings praised him, now that his valour had been seen. And while they were all engaged in joyfully talking over the combat, another ambassador, belonging to Subhata, arrived there. And he came and delivered a letter in the presence of Chandraprabha; and Siddhártha, opening it, read it out in the assembly: It ran as follows, "The august king Chandraprabha, the pearl-jewel of a noble race, is thus respectfully solicited by king Subhata in the Concan. We have learnt that our daughter, who was carried off by some being in the night, has come into the hands of thy son, and we rejoice thereat. Make an effort, thou and thy son Súryaprabha, to come with her to our house, without raising any objection, in order that we may behold our daughter, returned as it were from the other world, and perform for her at once the ceremony required for marriage." When this letter was read by Siddhártha, the king Chandraprabha, consenting, welcomed the messenger and rejoiced. And he quickly sent Prahasta to the western border, and had Subhata's daughter Chandrikávatí conducted into her father's presence. And the next morning they all went, with Súryaprabha in front, and in company with Janamejaya, in the chariot to the western border. There king Subhata, pleased at recovering his daughter, shewed them much honour, and celebrated his daughter's marriage festival. And he bestowed on Chandrikávatí jewels and other gifts in such liberal profusion, that Vírabhata and the others were ashamed at what they had given. Then, while Súryaprabha was remaining there in the house of his father-in-law, there came from Lávánaka also an ambassador belonging to king Paurava. He delivered to Chandraprabha this message from his master, "My daughter Sulochaná has been carried off by the fortunate prince Súryaprabha: that does not grieve me; but why should he not be brought with her to my house, in order that we may perform the marriage ceremony?" When king Chandraprabha heard that, he honoured the messenger in his joy, and had Sulochaná escorted by Prahasta into the presence of her father. Then they, Subhata and all, in the company of Súryaprabha, went to Lávánaka in the chariot, that came as soon as it was thought of. There Paurava performed the joyful marriage ceremony, and bestowed jewels liberally on Súryaprabha and Sulochaná, and honoured the kings also. And while they were remaining there in delight, entertained by the king, Suroha, the king of China, also sent an ambassador. That king, like the others, requested by the mouth of the ambassador that, as his daughter had been carried off, they would come with her to his palace. Then king Chandraprabha was delighted, and he had the king of China's daughter, Vidyunmálá, also conducted by Prahasta to her father's house. And on the next day Chandraprabha and all went, including Paurava, together with Súryaprabha and his retinue, to the land of China. There the king came out to meet them, and led them into his own treasure-chamber, and there performed the marriage ceremony of his daughter. And he gave to Vidyunmálá and Súryaprabha an immense quantity of gold, elephants, horses, jewels and silk garments. And being invited by Suroha, Chandraprabha and the others continued there for some days in various enjoyments. And Súryaprabha, who was in the prime of youth, was adorned by that Vidyunmálá, [634] as the rainy season, when the clouds abound, is adorned by the lightning-garland. Thus Súryaprabha and his relatives, accompanied by his various charmers, enjoyed delights here and there in the houses of his fathers-in-law. Then he took counsel with Siddhártha and his other ministers, and dismissed one by one to their own lands Vírabhata and the other kings, with numbers of horses, and then took leave of that king Suroha, and accompanied by his daughter, with his own parents and followers ascended that chariot Bhútásana, and went triumphant to his own city of Sákala. In that city great rejoicing took place on account of his arrival; in one place there was the occupation of dancing, in another the delight of music; in one place the amusement of drinking, in another the toilet-rites of fair-eyed ladies; in another the voice of bards loud in the praise of him who had obtained what he desired. Then he had brought his other wives, who had remained in their fathers' houses, and with the stores of elephants and horses bestowed by their fathers, that were brought with them, and with the innumerable camels bowed down with burdens full of various jewels, he displayed in sport the wealth obtained by the conquest of the world, and aroused the wonder of his subjects. Then Sákala, inhabited by that fortunate one, appeared glorious, as if the chiefs of the gods, of the followers of Kuvera, and of the snakes, had made in it many deposits of much wealth. Then Súryaprabha dwelt there with Madanasená, enjoying the pleasures he desired, happy in that all blessings were fully bestowed upon him, in the society of his parents, with his ministers, accompanied by his other wives, expecting every day Maya, who had made a promise to return. CHAPTER XLV. Then, one day, when king Chandraprabha was in the hall of assembly, and Súryaprabha was there accompanied by all his ministers, they called to mind Maya à propos of a remark made by Siddhártha, and suddenly the earth cleft open in the middle of the assembly. Then first a loud-sounding fragrant breeze ascended from the aperture in the earth, and afterwards the Asura Maya rose up from it, looking like a mountain in the night, for his hair gleamed upon his black lofty head like the potent herbs upon the mountain peaks, and his crimson robe resembled the flowing streams of cinnabar. And the king of the Dánavas, after having been duly honoured by king Chandraprabha, spake from his seat on a jewelled throne--"You have enjoyed these delights of earth, and now it is time for you to enjoy others; set yourselves now to prepare for acquiring them. Send out ambassadors, and collect your subordinate kings, and your friends and connexions; then we will unite with Sumeru, prince of the Vidyádharas, and we will conquer Srutasarman, and win the sovereignty of the sky-goers. And Sumeru is our ally, considering us as friends, for he received at the outset a command from Siva, to support Súryaprabha and give him his own daughter. When the Asura Maya said this, Chandraprabha sent, as ambassadors to all the kings, Prahasta and the other ministers that travelled through the air; and, by the advice of Maya, Súryaprabha communicated the magic sciences to all his wives and ministers, on whom they had not been bestowed already. And while they were thus engaged, the hermit Nárada arrived, descending from the sky, illuminating the whole horizon with brightness. And after he had received the argha, he sat down and said to Chandraprabha, "I am sent here by Indra, and he sends this message to your Highness--'I have learned that, by the instigation of Siva, you purpose, with the assistance of the Asura Maya, being all of you deluded by ignorance, to obtain for this Súryaprabha, of mortal frame, the great dignity of emperor of all the chiefs of the Vidyádharas: that is improper, for I have conferred it on Srutasarman, and besides it is the hereditary right of that moon of the sea of the Vidyádhara race. And as for what you are doing in a spirit of opposition to me, and contrary to what is right, it will certainly result in your destruction. Moreover, before, when your Highness was offering a sacrifice to Rudra, I told you first to offer an Asvamedha sacrifice, but you did not do it. So the haughty enterprise you are engaged in, without regard to the gods, relying upon Siva alone, will not turn out to your happiness.'" When Nárada had delivered in these words the message of Indra, Maya laughed and said to him; "Great hermit, the king of gods has not spoken well. For what he says about the fact of Súryaprabha being a mortal is beside the point; for who was not aware of that fact, when he met Dámodara in fight? For mortals who possess courage can obtain all powers. Did not Nahusha and others of old time obtain the dignity of Indra? And as for his saying that he bestowed the empire on Srutasarman, and that it is his hereditary right, that also is absurd, for where Siva is the giver, who has any authority? Besides, did not he himself take away the sovereignty of the gods from Hiranyáksha, though it descended to him as the elder? And as for his other remark about opposition, and our acting contrary to what is right, that is false, for he violently puts himself in opposition to us out of selfish motives, and wherein, pray, are we acting contrary to what is right, for we are only striving to conquer our rival, we are not carrying off a hermit's wife, we are not killing Bráhmans? And what he says about the necessity of first performing an Asvamedha sacrifice, and about contempt of the gods, is untrue, for when sacrifice to Siva has been performed, what need is there of other sacrifices? [635] And when Siva the god of gods is worshipped, what god is not worshipped? And as for his remark that exclusive attention to Rudra [636] is not becoming, I answer--Of what importance are the hosts of the other gods, where Siva is in arms? When the sun has risen, do the other luminaries give light? So you must tell all this to the king of the gods, O hermit, and we shall continue to carry out what we are engaged in, let him do what he can." When the rishi Nárada had been thus addressed by the Asura Maya, he said "I will do so," and took back to the king of the gods that answer to his message. When that hermit had departed, the Asura Maya thus spake to king Chandraprabha, who was apprehensive on account of the message of Indra, "You must not be afraid of Indra; even if he is on the side of Srutasarman in fight, with the hosts of the gods, out of hostility to us, still we Daityas and Dánavas are countless in number, and under the leadership of Prahláda we are ranged together on your side. And if the destroyer of Tripura [637] favours us and is active on our side, what other miserable creature in the three worlds has any power? So set about this expedition, heroes." When Maya said this, all those there were pleased, and considered that it was as he said. Then in accordance with the messages carried by the ambassadors, in course of time all the kings, Vírabhata and the others, assembled there, and all the other friends and relatives of Chandraprabha. When these kings with their armies had been duly honoured, the Asura Maya again said to Chandraprabha, "Perform to-night, O king, a great sacrifice in honour of Siva; afterwards you shall do all as I direct." When he heard this speech of Maya's, king Chandraprabha immediately had preparations made for a sacrifice to Siva. Then he went to the forest at night, and under the instructions of Maya, himself performed devoutly a sacrifice to Rudra. And while the king was engaged in the fire-offering, there suddenly appeared there Nandin the prince of the host of Bhútas. He was honoured duly by the delighted king, and said--"The god Siva himself sends this command by me, 'Through my favour thou needst not fear even a hundred Indras; Súryaprabha shall become emperor of the sky-goers.'" After he had delivered this message, Nandin received a portion of the offering and disappeared with the hosts of Bhútas. Then Chandraprabha became confident in the future elevation of his son, and after completing the sacrifice, at the end of the fire-offering, re-entered the city with Maya. And the next morning, when king Chandraprabha was sitting in secret conclave together with the queen, his son, the kings and his ministers, the Asura Maya said to him--"Listen, king, I will to-day tell you a secret long guarded; you are a Dánava, Sunítha by name, my mighty son, and Súryaprabha is your younger brother, named Sumundíka; after you were slain in the war of the gods, you were born here as father and son. That Dánava body of yours has been preserved by me skilfully embalmed with heavenly drugs and ghee. Therefore you must enter a cavern and visit Pátála, and then return to your own body by a charm which I will teach you. And when you have entered that body, you will be so much superior in spirit and strength, that you will conquer in fight the wanderers of the air. But Súryaprabha, who is an incarnation of Sumundíka, with this same beautiful body which he now possesses, shall soon become lord of the sky-goers. When king Chandraprabha heard this from Maya, he was delighted and agreed to it, but Siddhártha said this--"O excellent Dánava, what ground of confidence have we, if this doubt should arise, 'Why has the king entered another body, has he then died?' And moreover will he forget us when he enters another body, like a man gone to the other world? Who is he, and who are we?" When the Asura Maya heard this speech of Siddhártha's, he answered--"You yourselves must come and see him with your own eyes entering another body, of his own free will, by the employment of a charm. And hear the reason why he will not forget you. A man, who does not die of his own free will, and is born in another womb, does not remember anything, as his memory is destroyed by old age and other afflictions, but whoever of his own free will enters another body, penetrating by the employment of magic the internal organ and the senses, without his mind and intellect being impaired, and passes, as it were, from one house to another, that prince among Yogins has supernatural knowledge and remembers all. So do not feel doubtful; so far from there being any reason for it, this king will obtain a great divine body free from old age and sickness. Moreover you are all Dánavas, and by merely entering Rasátala, [638] and drinking nectar, you will obtain divine bodies free from sickness." When the ministers heard this speech of Maya's, they all said, "So be it," and consented to his proposal, abandoning their apprehensions out of the confidence they reposed in him. And by his advice, Chandraprabha, with all the kings, went on the next day to the confluence of the Chandrabhágá and the Airávatí. [639] There Chandraprabha left the kings outside, and committed to their care the wives of Súryaprabha, and then he entered in company with Súryaprabha, the queen, and the ministers with Siddhártha at their head, an opening in the water pointed out by Maya, and after entering he travelled a long distance, and beheld a heavenly temple, and entered it with all of them. And in the meanwhile the Vidyádharas descended with troops on those kings, who were remaining there outside the opening; and paralyzing the kings by supernatural arts, they carried off the wives of Súryaprabha, and immediately a voice was heard from the sky--"Wicked Srutasarman, if you touch these wives of the emperor, you shall immediately perish with your host. So guard them respectfully, treating them like your mother; there is a reason for my not immediately slaying you and setting them free; so let them remain as they are at present." And when the kings, Vírabhata and the others, saw them carried off, they prepared to die by fighting with one another. But a voice from heaven forbade their attempt, saying, "No harm will befall these daughters of yours, you shall obtain them again, so you must not act rashly, prosperity befall you!" So the kings remained waiting there. In the meantime Chandraprabha was in the temple in Pátála surrounded by all his companions, and there Maya said to him, "King, listen attentively to this wonderful thing; I will shew you the supernatural art of entering another body." He said this, and recited the Sánkhya and the Yoga doctrine with its secrets, and taught him the magic art of entering another body; and that chief of Yogins said--"This is the famous supernatural power, and the independence of knowledge, the dominion over matter that is characterized by lightness and the other mystic properties. The chief of the gods, possessing this power, do not long for liberation; in order to obtain this power others endure the hardship of muttering prayers and performing asceticism. Men of lofty soul do not love the pleasures of heaven even when attained. And listen, I will tell you a story in illustration of this." Story of the Bráhman Kála. In a former Kalpa [640] there was a certain Bráhman, of the name of Kála. He went to the holy bathing-place Pushkara and muttered prayers day and night. While he was muttering, two myriads of years of the gods passed away. Then there appeared a great light inseparable from his head, which, streaming forth in the firmament like ten thousand suns, [641] impeded the movement of the Siddhas and others there, and set the three worlds on fire. Then Brahmá, Indra and the other gods came to him and said--"Bráhman, these worlds are on fire with your brightness. Receive whatever boon you desire." He answered them--"Let me have no other pleasure than muttering prayers, this is my boon, I choose nothing else." When they importuned him, that mutterer of prayers went far off and remained on the north side of the Himálayas, muttering prayers. When this extraordinary brightness of his gradually became intolerable even there, Indra sent heavenly nymphs to tempt him. That self-restrained man did not care a straw about them, when they endeavoured to seduce him. Then the gods sent him Death as plenipotentiary. He came to him and said--"Bráhman, mortals do not live so long, so abandon your life; do not break the law of nature." When the Bráhman heard this, he said--"If the limit of my life is attained, why do you not take me? What are you waiting for? But I will not of myself abandon my life, O thou god with the noose in hand; indeed, if I were wilfully to abandon my life, I should be a self-murderer." When he said this, and Death found that he could not take him on account of his power, he turned away from him and returned as he came. Then Indra repenting seized that Kála, [642] who had conquered Time the destroyer, in his arms, and took him up to heaven by force. There he remained averse to the sensual enjoyments of the place, and he did not cease from muttering prayers, so the gods made him descend again, and he returned to the Himálayas. And while all the gods were trying to induce him there to take a boon, the king Ikshváku came that way. When he heard how affairs stood, he said to that mutterer of prayers, "If you will not receive a boon from the gods, receive one from me." When the mutterer of prayers heard that, he laughed, and said to the king--"Are you able to grant me a boon, when I will not receive one even from the gods?" Thus he spoke, and Ikshváku answered the Bráhman--"If I am not able to grant you a boon, you can grant me one; so grant me a boon." Then the mutterer said--"Choose whatever you desire, and I will grant it." When the king heard this, he reflected in his mind: "The appointed order is that I should give, and that he should receive; this is an inversion of the due order, that I should receive what he gives." Whilst the king was delaying, as he pondered over this difficulty, two Bráhmans came there disputing; when they saw the king they appealed to him for a decision. The first said, "This Bráhman gave me a cow with a sacrificial fee: why will he not receive it from my hand, when I offer to give it back to him?" Then the other said, "I did not receive it first, and I did not ask for it, then why does he wish to make me receive it by force?" When the king heard this, he said--"This complainant is not in the right; why, after receiving the cow, do you try to compel the man, who gave it, to take it back from you?" When the king said this, Indra, having found his opportunity, said to him--"King, if you hold this view of what is right, then, after you have asked the Bráhman, who mutters prayers, for a boon, why do you not take it from him when it is granted?" Then the king, being at a loss for an answer, said to that muttering Bráhman--"Revered sir, give me the fruit of half your muttering as a boon." Then the muttering Bráhman said--"Very well, receive the fruit of half my muttering," and so he gave the king a boon. By means of that boon the king obtained access to all the worlds, and that muttering Bráhman obtained the world of the gods called Sivas. [643] There he remained for many kalpas, and then returned to earth, and by mystic contemplation obtained independence, and gained everlasting supernatural power. "Thus this supernatural power is desired by wise men, who are averse to heaven and such low enjoyments; and you have obtained it, O king, so, being independent, enter your own body." When Maya said this to king Chandraprabha, after communicating to him the doctrine of mystic contemplation giving supernatural power, [644] he and his wife and his son and his ministers rejoiced exceedingly. Then the king, with his son and companions, was led by Maya to a second under-world, and made to enter a splendid city. And there they saw a gigantic hero, reclining at full length upon a beautiful couch, as if asleep, anointed with potent herbs and ghee, awful from the ghastly transformation of his features, surrounded by the daughters of the kings of the Daityas, with their lotus-faces full of melancholy. Then Maya said to Chandraprabha:--"This is your body, surrounded by your former brides, enter it."--The king had recourse to the magic contemplation taught by Maya, and entered the body of that hero, abandoning his own frame. [645] Then the hero yawned slowly, opened his eyes, and rose up from the bed, as if awaking out of sleep. Then a shout arose from the delighted Asura brides, "Happy are we, that our husband, the god Sunítha, is to-day restored to life." But Súryaprabha and the others were immediately despondent, beholding the body of Chandraprabha lying lifeless. But Chandraprabha-Sunítha, appearing as if risen from a refreshing sleep, saw Maya, and falling at his feet honoured his father. That father too embraced him and asked him in the presence of all,--"Do you remember both your lives, my son?" He said; "I do remember them," and related what had happened to him in his life as Chandraprabha, and also what had happened to him in his life as Sunítha, and he comforted one by one Súryaprabha and the others, and also his queens, mentioning each by name, and also the Dánava ladies, his wives in his first life. And he preserved the body, which he had as Chandraprabha, carefully laid by, embalmed by means of drugs and ghee, saying, "It may possibly be useful to me." Then Súryaprabha and the others, tranquil now that they had gained confidence, bowed before him, and joyfully congratulated him. Then Maya, having conducted all of them in high delight out of that city, led them to another city adorned with gold and jewels. When they entered it, they beheld a lake of the appearance of beryl, filled with nectar, and they all sat down on the bank of it. And they drank that nectarous draught there, more excellent than the water of life, in curiously ornamented cups formed of jewels, which were brought to them by the wives of Sunítha. And by that draught they all rose up, as from a sleep of intoxication, and became possessed of divine bodies, and of great strength and courage. Then the Asura Maya said to Chandraprabha-Sunítha, "Come, my son, let us go, and see your mother after so long a separation." And Sunítha said "So be it," and prepared to go conducted by Maya, and so proceeded to the fourth under-world with Súryaprabha and the others. There they beheld curious cities made of various metals, and at last they all reached a city built entirely of gold. There, on a pillar composed of jewels adorned with every luxury, they beheld that mother of Sunítha, the wife of Maya, by name Lílávatí, surpassing in beauty the nymphs of heaven, surrounded with Asura maidens, and adorned with all ornaments. The moment she beheld that Sunítha, she rose up in a state of excitement, and Sunítha, after saluting her, fell at her feet. Then she embraced with gushing tears the son, whom she once more held in her arms after so long an interval, and again praised her husband Maya, who was the cause of her regaining him. Then Maya said--"Queen, your other son Sumundíka has been born again as the son of your son, and here he is, Súryaprabha by name. He has been appointed by the god Siva the future emperor of the Vidyádharas, and is destined to rule over them in the body which he now possesses." When Súryaprabha heard this, and saw her look at him with an eye of longing affection, he and his ministers fell at her feet. And Lílávatí gave him her blessing, and said to him--"My darling, you do not require the body of Sumundíka, in this you are sufficiently glorious." When his sons were thus triumphant, Maya called to mind his daughter Mandodarí, and Vibhíshana, and when called to mind, they came. And Vibhíshana, welcomed with triumphant rejoicings, said to him--"O prince of the Dánavas, if you will listen to my advice, I will give it you. You are among the Dánavas singularly virtuous and prosperous, so you ought not to take up a causeless enmity against the gods. For you will gain nothing but death from your hostility to them. For Asuras have been slain in battle by the gods, but not gods by Asuras." When Maya heard this, he said--"We are not forcing on war, but if Indra violently makes war on us, tell me, how can we remain passive? And as for those Asuras who were slain by the gods, they were reckless, but did the gods slay Bali and others who were not infatuated?" That king of the Rákshasas having, with his wife Mandodarí, been addressed with these and similar speeches by Maya, took leave of him, and went to his own dwelling. Then Sunítha, with Súryaprabha and the others, was conducted to the third under-world to visit king Bali. In that world, which surpassed even heaven, they all beheld Bali, adorned with chain and tiara, surrounded with Daityas and Dánavas. Sunítha and his companions fell at his feet in due order, and he honoured them with appropriate welcome. And Bali was delighted with the tidings related by Maya, and he quickly had summoned Prahláda and the other Dánavas. Sunítha and the others honoured them also by falling at their feet, and they, being full of joy, congratulated them, as they bent before them. Then Bali said, "Sunítha became Chandraprabha on the earth, and now is restored to life for us by regaining his body. And we have also gained Súryaprabha, who is an incarnation of Sumundíka. And he has been appointed by Siva the future emperor of the Vidyádharas: and by the power of the sacrifice offered by Chandraprabha my bonds have been relaxed. So without doubt we have gained prosperity by recovering these." When Sukra, the spiritual adviser of the Dánavas, heard this speech of Bali's, he said, "In truth those who act according to right never fail of prosperity in any matter; so act according to right, and do on this occasion also what I bid you." When the Dánavas, the princes of the seven under-worlds, who were assembled there, heard that, they agreed to it and bound themselves so to act. And Bali made a feast there, out of joy at the recovery of Sunítha. In the meanwhile the hermit Nárada arrived there again, and after taking the argha, he sat down, and said to those Dánavas, "I have been sent here by Indra, and he in truth says this to you, 'I am exceedingly delighted at the fact that Sunítha has come back to life; so you must not take up a causeless enmity against me, and you must not fight against my ally Srutasarman.'" When the hermit had thus delivered Indra's message, Prahláda said to him, "Of course Indra is pleased that Sunítha has come back to life, how could it be otherwise? But we at any rate are not taking up causeless hostility. This very day we all took an engagement that we would not do so, in the presence of our spiritual adviser. But if Indra makes himself a partizan [646] of Srutasarman, and violently opposes us, how are we to be blamed for it? For Súryaprabha's ally, Siva, the god of gods, has long ago appointed him, because he propitiated him first. So what have we to do with this matter which has been settled by the lord Siva? It is clear that this, which Indra says, is without cause, and not right." When Prahláda, the king of the Dánavas said this to Nárada, he blamed Indra by expressing his agreement with it, and disappeared. When he had gone, Usanas [647] said to the kings of the Dánavas--"Indra is evidently determined to oppose us in this matter. But, as Siva has decidedly girded up his loins to shew us favour, what is his power, or what will his reliance upon Vishnu do?" The Dánavas heard and approved this speech of Sukra's, and taking leave of Bali and Prahláda, went to their own homes. Then Prahláda went to the fourth under-world, his habitation, and king Bali, rising up from the assembly, retired within. And Maya and Sunítha and the others, Súryaprabha and all, bowed before Bali, and went to their own habitations. After they had eaten and drunk there sufficiently, Lílávatí, the mother of Sunítha, came to him and said, "My son, you know that these wives of yours are the daughters of mighty ones, Tejasvatí being the daughter of the god of wealth, Mangalávatí of Tumburu; and as for Kírtimatí, that wife that you married in your existence as Chandraprabha, her you know to be the daughter of the Vasu Prabháva, so you must look upon these three with an equal eye, my son." After saying this, she commended to him his three principal wives. Then, that night, Sunítha entered his sleeping apartment with the eldest, Tejasvatí. But Súryaprabha, in another chamber, with his ministers, reclined on a couch without any of his wives that night. And the goddess of sleep did not come to him, who remained continually alone, saying to herself, "What is the use of this unloving man, who leaves his wives outside?" And she would not approach Prahasta out of jealousy, as he was so exclusively in love with the cares of his official duties, but the other ministers around Súryaprabha went to sleep comfortably. In the meanwhile Súryaprabha and Prahasta beheld an incomparable maiden entering, accompanied by a female friend. She was so beautiful that Providence seemed, after creating her, to have placed her in the lower regions in order that the nymphs of heaven, also his creation, might not be eclipsed by her. And while Súryaprabha was debating who she might be, she approached each of his friends, one by one, and looked at them; and as they did not possess the distinguishing marks of emperors, she left them, and seeing that Súryaprabha possessed them, she approached him, who was lying in the midst of them; and she said to her friend--"Here he is, my friend; so touch him on the feet, wake him up with those hands of yours cool as water." When her friend heard that, she did so, and Súryaprabha ceased to feign sleep, and opened his eyes, and beholding those maidens, he said--"Who are you, and why do you come here?" When the friend of the lady heard that, she said to him--"Listen, king, in the second under-world there is a victorious king named Amíla, a chieftain of the Daityas, the son of Hiranyáksha; this is his daughter Kalávatí whom he loves more than life. Her father came back to-day from the court of Bali, and said--'I am fortunate in that I have to-day beheld Sunítha once more restored to life; and I have also seen the young man Súryaprabha, an incarnation of Sumundíka, who has been brought into the world by Siva as the future emperor of the Vidyádharas. So I will now offer a congratulatory tribute to Sunítha,----I will give my daughter Kalávatí to Súryaprabha, for she cannot be given to Sunítha because she belongs to the same family; but Súryaprabha is his son in his birth as a king, not in his birth as an Asura, and any honour paid to his son will be paid to him.' When my friend heard this speech of her father's, her mind being attracted by your virtues, she came here out of a curiosity to see you." When that friend of the lady's said this, Súryaprabha pretended to be asleep in order to discover the real object of her wish. The maiden slowly approached the sleepless Prahasta, and after telling him all by the mouth of her friend, went out. And Prahasta advanced towards Súryaprabha and said--"King, are you awake or not?" And he, opening his eyes, said to him, "My friend, I am awake, for how could I sleep to-day being alone? But I will tell you a strange fact; listen, for what can I hide from you? I saw a moment ago a maiden enter here with her friend; her equal is not beheld in these three worlds. And she departed in a moment, taking my heart with her. So look for her at once, for she must be somewhere hereabout." When Súryaprabha said this to him, Prahasta went out, and seeing the maiden there with her friend, he said to her--"I, to please you, have again woke up my master here, so you, to please me, must once more grant him an interview. Behold once more his form that gives satisfaction to your eyes, [648] and let him, who was overpowered by you as soon as he saw you, behold you again. For when he woke up, he said to me speaking of you, 'Bring her from some place or other, and shew her to me, otherwise I cannot survive.' Then I came to you, so come and behold him yourself." When she was thus addressed by Prahasta, she hesitated to go in boldly, owing to the modesty natural to a maiden, and reflected, and then Prahasta, seizing her hand, led her into the presence of Súryaprabha. And Súryaprabha, when he saw that Kalávatí had come near him, said--"Fair one, was this right of you to come in to-day and steal away my heart, as you did, when I was asleep? So, thief, I will not leave you unpunished to-day." When her sly friend heard this, she said to him; "Since her father knew of it before, and determined to assign this thief to you for punishment, who can forbid you to punish her. Why do you not inflict on her to your heart's content the punishment due for thieving?" When Súryaprabha heard that, he wanted to embrace her, but Kalávatí being modest, said, "Do not, my husband, I am a maiden." Then Prahasta said to her; "Do not hesitate, my queen, for the Gándharva marriage is the best of all marriages in the world." When Prahasta had said this, he went out with all the rest, and Súryaprabha that very moment made Kalávatí, the maiden of the under-world, his wife. And when the night came to an end, Kalávatí went to her own dwelling, and Súryaprabha went to Sunítha and Maya. They all assembled and went into the presence of Prahláda, and he, seated in the hall of audience, after honouring them appropriately, said to Maya: "We must do something to please Sunítha on this day of rejoicing, so let us all feast together." Maya said--"Let us do so, what harm is there in this?" And then Prahláda invited by means of messengers the chiefs of the Asuras, and they came there in order from all the under-worlds. First came king Bali accompanied by innumerable great Asuras. Close behind him came Amíla and the brave Durároha and Sumáya, and Tantukachchha, and Vikatáksha and Prakampana, and Dhúmaketu and Mahámáya, and the other lords of the Asuras; each of these came accompanied by a thousand feudal chiefs. The hall of audience was filled with the heroes who saluted one another, and after they had sat down in order of rank, Prahláda honoured them all. And when the time of eating arrived, they all, with Maya and the others, after bathing in the Ganges, went to a great hall to dine. It was a hundred yojanas wide, and had a pavement of gold and jewels, and was adorned with jewelled pillars, and full of curiously wrought jewelled vessels. There the Asuras, in the company of Prahláda, and with Sunítha and Maya, and with Súryaprabha accompanied by his ministers, ate heavenly food of various kinds, containing all the six flavours, solid, liquid, and sweetmeats, and then drank the best of wine. And after they had eaten and drunk, they all went to another hall, which was made of jewels, and beheld the skilful dance of the Daitya and Dánava maidens. On that occasion Súryaprabha beheld the daughter of Prahláda, named Mahalliká, who came forward to dance by order of her father. She illuminated the world with her beauty, rained nectar into his eyes, and seemed like the moon-goddess [649] come to the under-world out of curiosity. She had her forehead ornamented with a patch, beautiful anklets on her feet, and a smiling face, and seemed as if all made of dancing by the Creator. With her curling hair, her pointed teeth, and her breasts that filled up the whole of her chest, she seemed as it were to be creating a new style of dance. And that fair one, the moment she was beheld by Súryaprabha, forcibly robbed him of his heart, though it was claimed by others. Then she also beheld him from a distance, sitting among the Asura princes, like a second god of Love made by the Creator, when the first god of love had been burnt up by Siva. And when she saw him, her mind was so absorbed in him, that her skill in the expression of sentiments by gesture forsook her, as if in anger at beholding her want of modesty. And the spectators beheld the emotion of those two, and brought the spectacle to an end, saying, "The princess is tired." Then Mahalliká was dismissed by her father, looking askance at Súryaprabha, and after she had bowed before the princes of the Daityas, she went home. And the princes of the Daityas went to their respective houses, and Súryaprabha too went to his dwelling at the close of day. And when the night came, Kalávatí again came to visit him, and he slept secretly within with her, with all his followers sleeping outside. In the meanwhile Mahalliká also came there, eager to see him, accompanied by two confidantes. Then a minister of Súryaprabha's, named Prajnádhya, who happened at that moment to have his eyes forsaken by sleep, saw her attempting to enter. And he, recognising her, rose up and said--"Princess, remain here a moment until I enter and come out again." She alarmed, said--"Why are we stopped, and why are you outside?" Prajnádhya again said to her--"Why do you enter in this sudden way when a man is sleeping at his ease? Besides, my lord sleeps alone to-night on account of a vow." Then the daughter of Prahláda, being ashamed, said, "So be it, enter," and Prajnádhya went inside. Seeing that Kalávatí was asleep, he woke up Súryaprabha and himself told him that Mahalliká had arrived. And Súryaprabha, hearing of it, gently rose up, and went out, and beholding Mahalliká with two others, he said--"This person has been supremely blessed by your arrival, let this place be blessed also, take a seat." When Mahalliká heard this, she sat down with her friends, and Súryaprabha also sat down, with Prajnádhya by his side. And when he sat down, he said--"Fair one, although you shewed contempt for me by seeming to look on others in the assembly with respect, nevertheless, O rolling-eyed one, my eyes were blessed as soon as they beheld your dancing as well as your beauty." When Súryaprabha said this, the daughter of Prahláda answered him--"This is not my fault, noble sir, [650] he is in fault, who made me ashamed in the hall of assembly by putting me beside my part in the pantomime." When Súryaprabha heard this, he laughed and said--"I am conquered." And then that prince seized her hand with his, and it perspired and trembled, as if afraid of the rough seizure. And she said--"Let me go, noble sir, I am a maiden under my father's control,"--then Prajnádhya said to that daughter of the chief of the Asuras, "Is not there not such a thing as the Gándharva marriage of maidens? And your father, who has seen your heart, will not give you to another, moreover he will certainly do some honour to this prince here; so away with timidity! Let not such a meeting be thrown away!" While Prajnádhya was saying this to Mahalliká, Kalávatí woke up within. And not seeing Súryaprabha on the bed, after waiting a long time, she was terrified and apprehensive and went out. And seeing her lover in the company of Mahalliká, she was angry and ashamed and terrified. Mahalliká too, when she saw her, was terrified and angry and ashamed, and Súryaprabha stood motionless like a painted picture. Kalávatí came to his side, thinking--"Now that I have been seen, how can I escape, shall I display shame or jealousy?" And she said with a spiteful intonation to Mahalliká--"How are you, my friend, how comes it that you have come here at night?" Then Mahalliká said--"This is my house; as you have arrived here from another mansion of the under-world, you are to-day my guest here." When Kalávatí heard that, she laughed and said--"Yes, it is clearly the case that you entertain with appropriate hospitality every guest, as soon as he arrives here." When Kalávatí said this, Mahalliká answered--"When I spoke to you kindly, why do you answer in such an unkind and spiteful way, shameless girl? Am I like you? Did I, without being bestowed in marriage by my parents, come from a distance, and in a strange place sleep in the bed of a strange man alone at night? I came to see my father's guest, as he was going away, in accordance with the duty of hospitality, a moment ago, accompanied by two female friends. When this minister entered, after first reproaching me, I guessed the real state of the case; you have now of yourself revealed it." When thus addressed by Mahalliká, Kalávatí departed, looking askance at her beloved with an eye red with anger. Then Mahalliká too said to Súryaprabha in wrath, "Now I will depart, man of many favourites," and went away. And Súryaprabha remained in heartless despondency, as was reasonable, for his heart, devoted to his loved ones, went with them. Then he woke up his minister Prabhása, and sent him to discover what Kalávatí had done, after she had separated from him in anger; and in the meanwhile he sent Prahasta to find out about Mahalliká, and he remained with Prajnádhya awaiting their report. Then Prabhása returned from investigating the proceedings of Kalávatí, and being questioned, he said as follows: "From this place I went to the private apartment of Kalávatí in the second under-world, concealing myself by my science. And outside it I heard the conversation of two maids. The one said, 'My friend, why is Kalávatí distressed to-day?' Then the second said--'My friend, hear the reason. There is at present in the fourth under-world an incarnation of Sumundíka, named Súryaprabha, who in beauty surpasses the god of Love; she went secretly and gave herself to him. And when she had repaired to him to-day of her own accord at night-fall, Mahalliká, the daughter of Prahláda, chose to come there too. Our mistress had a jealous quarrel with her, and was in consequence preparing to slay herself, when, she was seen by her sister Sukhávatí and saved. And then she went inside, and flinging herself down on a bed, she remained with that sister, who was despondent when she had learnt by enquiry what had taken place.' When I had heard this conversation of the two maids, I entered the apartment, and beheld Kalávatí and Sukhávatí, who resembled one another exactly." While Prabhása was saying this to Súryaprabha in private, Prahasta also came there, and being questioned, he said as follows--"When I arrived from this place at the private apartment of Mahalliká, she entered despondent with her two intimate friends. And I entered also invisible by the employment of magic science, and I saw there twelve friends like her; and they sat round Mahalliká, who reclined on a sofa ornamented with splendid jewels; and then one said to her, 'My friend, why do you seem to be suddenly cast down to-day? What is the meaning of this despondency when your marriage is about to come off?' When the daughter of Prahláda heard that, she answered her friend pensively, 'What marriage for me? To whom am I betrothed? Who told you?' When she said that, they all exclaimed, 'Surely your marriage will take place to-morrow, and you are betrothed, my friend, to Súryaprabha. And your mother, the queen, told us to-day when you were not present, and ordered us to decorate you for the marriage ceremony. So you are fortunate, in that you will have Súryaprabha for a husband, through admiration for whose beauty the ladies of this place cannot sleep at night. But this is a source of despondency to us--What a gulf there will now be between you and us! When you have obtained him for a husband, you will forget us.' When Mahalliká heard this from their mouth, she said, 'Has he been seen by you, and is your heart attached to him?' When they heard that, they said to her--'We saw him from the top of the palace, and what woman is there that a sight of him would not captivate?' Then she said, 'Then I will persuade my father to cause all of you to be given to him. [651] So we shall live together, and not be separated.' When she said this, the maidens were shocked, and said to her, 'Kind friend, do not do so. It would not be proper, and would make us ashamed.' When they said this, the daughter of the king of the Asuras answered them, 'Why is it not proper? I am not to be his only wife: all the Daityas and Dánavas will give him their daughters, and there are other princesses on the earth whom he has married, and he will also marry many Vidyádhara maidens. What harm can it do to me that you should be married among these? So far from it, we shall live happily in mutual friendship; but what intercourse can I hold with those others who will be my enemies? And why should you have any shame about the matter? I will arrange it all.' While these ladies were thus conversing, with hearts devoted to you, I came out at my leisure and repaired to your presence." When Súryaprabha had heard this from the mouth of Prahasta, he passed that night in happiness, though he remained sleepless in his bed. In the morning he went to the court of Prahláda, the king of the Asuras, with Sunítha and Maya and his ministers, to visit him. Then Prahláda said to Sunítha after showing him respect--"I will give to this Súryaprabha my daughter Mahalliká, for I must shew him some hospitable entertainment which will be agreeable to you." Sunítha received with joy this speech of Prahláda's. Then Prahláda made Súryaprabha ascend an altar-platform, in the middle of which a fire was burning, and which was adorned with lofty jewelled pillars illuminated by the brightness of the flame, and there gave him his daughter, with splendour worthy of the imperial throne of the Asuras. And he gave to his daughter and her bridegroom heaps of valuable jewels, obtained by his triumph over the gods, resembling the summit of mount Meru. And then Mahalliká boldly said to Prahláda--"Father, give me also those twelve companions whom I love." But he answered her--"Daughter, they belong to my brother, for they were taken captive by him, and I have no right to give them away." And Súryaprabha, after the marriage feast was ended, entered at night the bridal chamber with Mahalliká. And the next morning, when Prahláda had gone to the hall of assembly with his followers, Amíla, the king of the Dánavas, said to Prahláda and the others--"To-day you must all come to my house, for I intend to entertain there this Súryaprabha, and I will give him my daughter Kalávatí, if you approve." This speech of his they all approved, saying, "So be it." Then they all went in a moment to the second under-world, where he dwelt, with Súryaprabha, Maya and others. There Amíla gave by the usual ceremony to Súryaprabha his daughter, who had previously given herself. Súryaprabha went through the marriage ceremony in the house of Prahláda, and surrounded by the Asuras who had feasted, spent the day in tasting the enjoyments which they provided for him. On the next day, Durároha, a prince of the Asuras, invited and conducted them all to his own under-world, the fifth. There, by way of hospitality, he gave to Súryaprabha his own daughter Kumudávatí, as the others had done, in the prescribed manner. There Súryaprabha spent the day in enjoyment with all these united. And at night he entered the apartment of Kumudávatí. There he spent that night in the society of that lovely and loving woman, the beauty of the three worlds. And the next morning, Tantukachchha invited and conducted him, surrounded with his companions, headed by Prahláda, to his palace in the seventh under-world. There that king of the Asuras gave him his daughter Manovatí, adorned with splendid jewels, bright as molten gold. There Súryaprabha spent a highly agreeable day, and passed the night in the society of Manovatí. And the next day, Sumáya, a prince of the Asuras, after presenting an invitation, conducted him with all his friends to his under-world, the sixth; there he too gave him his daughter by name Subhadrá, with body black as a stalk of durbá grass, like a female incarnation of the god of Love; and Súryaprabha spent that day with that black maiden, whose face was like a full moon. And the next day, king Bali, followed by the Asuras, in the same way led that Súryaprabha to his own under-world, the third. There he gave him his own daughter named Sundarí, with complexion lovely as a young shoot, and resembling a cluster of mádhaví flowers. Súryaprabha then spent that day with that pearl of women in heavenly enjoyment and splendour. The next day, Maya also in the same way re-conducted the prince, who was in the fourth under-world, to his own palace, which possessed curiously adorned jewelled terraces, was constructed by his own magic power, and on account of its refulgent splendour seemed to be new every moment. There he gave him his own daughter, named Sumáyá, whose beauty was the wonder of the world, who seemed to be his own power incarnate, and he did not think that she ought to be withheld from him on account of his being a mere mortal. The fortunate Súryaprabha remained there with her. Then the prince divided his body by his magic science, and lived at the same time with all those Asura ladies, but with his real body he lived principally with his best beloved Mahalliká, the daughter of the Asura Prahláda. And one night, when he was happy in her presence, he asked the noble Mahalliká in the course of conversation--"My dear, those two female friends, who came with you, where are they? I never see them. Who are they, and where have they gone?" Then Mahalliká said--"You have done well to remind me. My female friends are not two only, but twelve in number, and my father's brother carried them off from Indra's heaven. The first is named Amritaprabhá, the second Kesiní, these are the auspiciously marked daughters of the hermit Parvata. And the third is Kálindí, and the fourth Bhadraká, and the fifth is the noble Kamalá with beautiful eyes. These three are the daughters of the great hermit Devala. The sixth is named Saudáminí and the seventh Ujjvalá, these are both of them daughters of the Gandharva Háhá. The eighth is by name Pívará, the daughter of the Gandharva Húhú. And the ninth is by name Anjaniká, the daughter of the mighty Kála. And the tenth is Kesarávalí, sprung from the Gana Pingala. And the eleventh is Máliní by name, the daughter of Kambala, and the twelfth is Mandáramálá the daughter of a Vasu. They are all heavenly nymphs, born from Apsarases, and, when I was married, they were taken to the first under-world, and I must bestow them on you, in order that I may be always with them. And this I promised them, for I love them. I spoke too to my father, but he refused to give them, out of regard for his brother." When Súryaprabha heard this, he said to her with a downcast expression--"My beloved, you are very magnanimous, but how can I do this?" When Súryaprabha said this to her, Mahalliká said in anger--"In my presence you marry others, but my friends you do not desire, separated from whom I shall not be happy even for one moment." When she said this to him, Súryaprabha was pleased and consented to do it. Then that daughter of Prahláda immediately took him to the first under-world and gave him those twelve maidens. Then Súryaprabha married those heavenly nymphs in order, commencing with Amritaprabhá. And after asking Mahalliká's leave, he had them taken by Prabhása to the fourth under-world and concealed there. And Súryaprabha himself went there secretly with Mahalliká, but he went to the hall of Prahláda, as before, to take his meals. There the king of the Asuras said to Sunítha and Maya--"Go all of you to visit the two goddesses Diti and Danu." They said "So be it," and immediately Maya, Sunítha and Súryaprabha left the lower world, accompanied by the Asuras in order of precedence, and ascended the chariot Bhútásana, which came to them on being thought of, and repaired to the hermitage of Kasyapa situated on a ridge of mount Sumeru. There they were announced by hermits who shewed them all courtesy, and after entering they beheld in due order Diti and Danu together, and bowed their heads at their feet. And those two mothers of the Asuras cast a favourable look upon them and their followers, and after shedding tears and kissing them joyfully upon their heads, [652] and bestowing their blessing upon them, said to Maya: "Our eyes are to-day blessed, having seen this thy son Sunítha restored to life, and we consider thee one whose merits have procured him good fortune. And beholding with heart-felt satisfaction this prosperous Sumundíka, born again in the character of Súryaprabha, possessed of heavenly beauty and of extraordinary virtue, destined to be successful and glorious, abounding in unmistakeable marks of future greatness, we openly adore him here with our bodies. Therefore rise up quickly, darlings, and visit Prajápati here, our husband; from beholding him you shall obtain success in your objects, and his advice will be helpful to you in your affairs." When Maya and the others received this order from the goddesses, they went as they were commanded, and beheld the hermit Kasyapa in a heavenly hermitage. He was like pure molten gold in appearance, full of brightness, the refuge of the gods, wearing matted locks yellow as flame, irresistible as fire. And approaching, they fell at his feet with their followers, in order; then the hermit gave them the customary blessing, and after making them sit down, out of delight at their arrival said to them--"I am exceedingly glad that I have beheld all you my sons; thou art to be praised, Maya, who, without diverging from the good path, art a treasure-house of all sciences; and thou art fortunate, Sunítha, who hast recovered thy life though lost, and thou, O Súryaprabha, art fortunate, who art destined to be the king of the sky-goers. So you must all continue now in the path of righteousness, and hearken to my word, by means of which you will obtain the highest fortune, and taste perpetual joys, and by which you will not again be conquered by your enemies; for it was those Asuras, that transgressed law, that became a prey for the discus of the vanquisher of Mura. And those Asuras, Sunítha, that were slain by the gods, are incarnate again as human heroes. He who was thy younger brother Sumundíka, has been born indeed now as Súryaprabha. And the other Asuras, who were your companions, have been born as his friends; for instance, the great Asura, named Sambara, has been born as his minister Prahasta. And the Asura, named Trisiras, has been born as his minister named Siddhártha. And the Dánava, named Vátápi, is now his minister Prajnádhya. And the Dánava, named Ulúka, is now his companion named Subhankara, and his present friend Vítabhíti was in a former birth a foe of the gods, named Kála. And this Bhása, his minister, is an incarnation of a Daitya by name Vishaparvan, and his minister Prabhása is an incarnation of a Daitya named Prabala. He was a great-hearted Daitya with a frame composed of jewels, who, when asked by the gods, though they were his enemies, hewed his body to pieces, and so passed into another state of existence, and from that body of his all the jewels in the world have originated. The goddess Durgá was so pleased at that, that she granted him a boon accompanied by another body, by virtue of which he has now been born as Prabhása, mighty, and hard to be overcome by his enemies. And those Dánavas, who formerly existed under the names of Sunda and Upasunda, have been born as his ministers Sarvadamana and Bhayankara. And the two Asuras, who used to be called Vikatáksha and Hayagríva, have been born as his two ministers here, Sthirabuddhi and Mahábuddhi. And the others connected with him, these fathers-in-law, ministers and friends of his, are also incarnations of Asuras, who have often vanquished Indra and his crew. So your party has again gradually acquired strength. Be of good courage; if you do not depart from the right, you shall obtain the highest prosperity." While the rishi Kasyapa was saying this, all his wives, the daughters of Daksha, headed by Aditi, arrived at the time of the mid-day sacrifice. When they had given their blessing to Maya and the others, who bowed before them, and had performed their husband's orders for the day, Indra also came there with the Lokapálas [653] to visit the sage. And Indra, after saluting the feet of Kasyapa and his wives and after having been saluted by Maya and the others, looking angrily at Súryaprabha, said to Maya,--"This is the boy, I suppose, that is desirous of becoming emperor of the Vidyádharas; how is he satisfied with so very little, and why does he not desire the throne of heaven?" When Maya heard this, he said, "The throne of heaven was decreed to you by Siva, and to him was appointed the sovereignty of the sky-goers." [654] When Indra heard this, he said with an angry laugh--"This would be but a small matter for this comely shape of a youth who is furnished with such auspicious marks." Then Maya answered him--"If Srutasarman deserves the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas, then surely this shape of his deserves the throne of heaven." When Maya said this, Indra was angry, and rose and uplifted his thunderbolt, and then the hermit Kasyapa made a threatening noise of anger. And Diti and the other wives became enraged, and their faces were red with anger, and they loudly cried, "Shame!" Then Indra, afraid of being cursed, withdrew his weapon, and sat down with bowed head. Then Indra fell at the feet of that hermit Kasyapa, the sire of gods and Asuras, who was surrounded by his wives, and after striving to appease him, made the following representation with hands folded in supplication: "O reverend one, this Súryaprabha is attempting to take away from Srutasarman the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas, which I bestowed on him. And Maya is exerting himself in every way to procure it for Súryaprabha." When Prajápati heard that, he said, seated with Diti and Danu,--"Thou lovest Srutasarman, O Indra, but Siva loves Súryaprabha, and his love cannot be fruitless, and he long ago ordered Maya to do what he has done. So, what is all this outcry that thou art making against Maya, what offence has he committed herein? For he is one who abides in the path of right, wise, discreet, submissive to his spiritual superior. The fire of my wrath would have reduced thee to ashes, if thou hadst committed that sin, and thou hast no power against him; dost thou not recognise his might?" When that hermit with his wives said that, Indra was abashed with shame and fear, and Aditi said--"What is that Srutasarman like? Let him be brought here and shown to us." When Indra heard this, he sent Mátali, [655] and had brought there immediately that Srutasarman, the prince of the sky-goers. The wives of Kasyapa, when they had seen that Srutasarman, who prostrated himself, looked at Súryaprabha and said to the hermit Kasyapa--"Which of these two is the richer in beauty and in auspicious marks?" Then that chief of hermits said, "Srutasarman is not even equal to his minister Prabhása, much less is he equal to that incomparable one. For this Súryaprabha is furnished with various heavenly marks of such excellence, that, if he were to make the attempt, he would find even the throne of Indra easy to obtain." When they heard that speech of Kasyapa's, all there approved it, and said--"So it is." Then the hermit gave Maya a boon in the hearing of great Indra--"Because, my son, thou didst remain undaunted, even when Indra lifted up his weapon to strike, therefore thou shalt remain unharmed by the plagues of sickness and old age, which are strong as the thunderbolt. Moreover these two magnanimous sons of thine, who resemble thee, shall always be invincible by all their enemies. And this son of mine Suvásakumára, resembling in splendour the autumn moon, shall come when thou thinkest of him, and assist thee in the night of calamity. When the hermit had thus spoken, his wives and the rishis and the Lokapálas in the same way gave boons to them, to Maya and the rest, in the assembly. Then Aditi said to Indra--"Desist, Indra, from thy improper conduct, conciliate Maya, for thou hast seen to-day the fruit of discreet conduct, in that he has obtained boons from me." When Indra heard that, he seized Maya by the hand and propitiated him, and Srutasarman, eclipsed by Súryaprabha, was like the moon in the day. Then the king of the gods immediately prostrated himself before Kasyapa his spiritual guide, and returned as he came, accompanied by all the Lokapálas; and Maya and the others, by the order of that excellent hermit, departed from his hermitage to meet success in their proposed undertaking. CHAPTER XLVI. Then Maya and Sunítha and Súryaprabha, all of them, left that hermitage of Kasyapa, and reached the junction of the Chandrabhágá and Airávatí, where the kings, the friends and connexions of Súryaprabha, were awaiting him. And the kings who were there, when they saw Súryaprabha arrived, rose up weeping in despair, eager to die. Súryaprabha, thinking that their grief arose from not seeing Chandraprabha, told them the whole occurrence as it happened. Then, as they still remained despondent, he questioned them, and they reluctantly related how his wives had been carried off by Srutasarman. And they also told him how they were preparing to commit suicide through grief at that outrage, when they were forbidden by a heavenly voice. Then Súryaprabha in wrath made this vow--"Even if Brahmá and all the other gods protect Srutasarman, I will certainly overthrow him, a villain who carries off the wives of others, addicted to treacherous insolence." And having made this vow, he appointed a moment fixed by the astrologers on the seventh day, for marching to his overthrow. Then Maya, perceiving that he was determined, and had made up his mind to conquer his enemy, again confirmed him with his speech, and said to him--"If you really have made up your mind, then I will tell you this; it was I that on that occasion carried off your wives by magic, and I placed them in the under-world, thinking that thus you would set about your victorious expedition in an impetuous manner, for a fire does not of itself burn so fiercely, as it does when fanned by a breeze. So come, let us go to the under-world; I will shew you those wives of yours." When they heard that speech of Maya's, they all rejoiced, and they entered again by the same opening as before, and went to the fourth under-world, Maya leading the way. There Maya brought those wives of Súryaprabha's out of a dwelling-house, and delivered them over to him. Then Súryaprabha, after receiving those wives, and the others, the daughters of the Asuras, went by the advice of Maya to visit Prahláda. He, having heard from Maya that Súryaprabha had obtained boons, and being desirous of proving him, took up his weapon, and said with feigned anger as he bowed before him,--"I have heard, wicked one, that you have carried off the twelve maidens captured by my brother, so, I will slay you now; behold me." When Súryaprabha heard that, he said to him, without changing countenance,--"My body is at your disposal; punish me, for I have acted improperly." When he said this, Prahláda laughed and said to him--"As far as I have tested you, you have not a drop of pride in you. Choose a boon, I am pleased with you." When Súryaprabha heard this, he consented, and chose as his boon devotion to his superiors and to Siva. Then, all being satisfied, Prahláda gave to Súryaprabha a second daughter of his, named Yáminí, and that prince of the Asuras gave him two of his sons as allies. Then Súryaprabha went with all the rest into the presence of Amíla. He too was pleased on hearing that he had obtained the boons, and gave him Sukhávatí his second daughter, and two of his sons to help him. Then Súryaprabha remained there during those days, accompanied by his wives, inducing other kings of the Asuras to make common cause with him. And he heard, in the company of Maya and the others, that the three wives of Sunítha and his own wives, the daughters of the kings, had all become pregnant, and when asked what they longed for, they all said, to see that great battle, and the Asura Maya rejoiced at it, perceiving that the Asuras, who were slain in old time, had been conceived again in them--"This," said he, "is the cause of their desire." So six days passed, but on the seventh Súryaprabha and the others, with their wives and all, set out from the under-world. Delusive portents, which their rivals displayed to impede them, were dissipated by Suvásakumára, who came when thought of. Then they anointed Ratnaprabha, the son of Chandraprabha, king of the earth, and ascended the chariot Bhútásana, [656] and went all of them, by the advice of Maya, to a wood of ascetics on the bank of the eastern Ganges, the dwelling of Sumeru the king of the Vidyádharas. There Sumeru received them with all honour, as they had come on a friendly visit, having been told the whole story by Maya, and remembering the previous command of Siva. And while Chandraprabha and the others were in that place, they summoned each of them all their own forces, and also their relations and friends. First came those princes, the sons of the fathers-in-law of Súryaprabha, who had acquired from Maya the required sciences, eager for the fray. They were sixteen in number, headed by Haribhata, and each was followed by a force consisting of a myriad of chariots, and two myriads of footmen. After them came the Daityas and Dánavas true to their agreement, brothers-in-law, fathers-in-law, friends and other connexions of Súryaprabha. Hrishtaroman, and Mahámáya, and Sinhadanshtra and Prakampana, and Tantukachehha and Durároha, and Sumáya, and Vajrapanjara, and Dhúmaketu, and Pramathana, and the Dánava Vikatáksha, and many others came from as low down as the seventh under-world. One came with seven myriads of chariots, another with eight, another with six, and another with three, and the least powerful of all with one myriad. One brought three hundred thousand footmen, another two hundred thousand, another one hundred thousand, and the pettiest potentate of all fifty thousand. And each brought a corresponding number of horses and elephants. And another innumerable host came belonging to Maya and Sunítha. And Súryaprabha's own countless army also arrived, and those of Vasudatta and the other kings, and that of Sumeru. Then the Asura Maya addressed this question to the hermit Suvásakumára, who came to him when thought of, in the presence of Súryaprabha and the others--"Reverend sir, we cannot review this army here because it is scattered; so tell me where we could get a view of the whole army at once extended in long array." The hermit answered--"Not more than a yojana from here there is a place called Kalápagráma; go there and behold it drawn up in line." When the hermit said that, all the princes went with him and Sumeru to Kalápagráma. There they made the armies of the Asuras and the kings take up their positions, and going to an elevated spot they reviewed them separately. Then Sumeru said--"Srutasarman has the larger force, for he has under him a hundred and one chiefs of the Vidyádharas. And every single one of those chiefs is lord of two and thirty kings. Never mind! I will draw away some and make them join you. So let us go in the morning to the place named Valmíka. For to-morrow is the eighth lunar day of the black fortnight of Phálguna, which is a high day. And on that day there is produced there a sign to show the future emperor, and for that reason the Vidyádharas are going there in a great hurry on that day. When Sumeru gave that opinion with regard to the army, they spent that day in accordance with the law, and went on the morrow to Valmíka in chariots with their army. There they encamped with shouting forces on the southern plateau of the Himálayas, and beheld many Vidyádhara kings that had arrived. And those Vidyádharas had lighted fires there in fire-cavities, and were engaged in sacrificing, and some were occupied with muttering prayers. Then, where Súryaprabha made a fire-cavity, the fire burst forth of itself, owing to the power of his magic science. When Sumeru saw it, he was pleased, but envy arose in the breasts of the Vidyádharas at the sight; then one said to him--"For shame, Sumeru! why do you abandon your rank as a Vidyádhara, and follow this inhabitant of earth named Súryaprabha?" When Sumeru heard this, he angrily rebuked him. And when Súryaprabha asked his name, he said--"There is a Vidyádhara of the name of Bhíma, and Brahmá loved his wife at will; from this connexion he sprang. Since be sprang from Brahmá in a secret way, he is called Brahmagupta. Hence he speaks in a style characteristic of his birth." After saying this, Sumeru also made a fire-cavity. And in it Súryaprabha sacrificed with him to the god of Fire. And in a moment there suddenly rose from the hole in the ground an enormous and terrible serpent. In his arrogance, that chief of the Vidyádharas, named Brahmagupta, by whom Sumeru was blamed, ran to seize it. That serpent thereupon sent forth a hissing wind from its mouth, which carried Brahmagupta a hundred feet, and flung him down with such violence that he fell like a withered leaf. Then a chief of the Vidyádharas, named Tejahprabha, ran to seize it; he was flung away by it in the same manner. Then a lord of the Vidyádharas, named Dushtadamana, approached it; he was hurled back like the others by that blast from its mouth. Then a prince of the sky-goers, named Virúpasakti, approached it; he too was flung away as easily as a blade of grass by that breath. Then two kings, named Angáraka and Vijrimbhaka, ran towards it together; and it flung them to a distance with its breath. Thus all the princes of the Vidyádharas were flung away one after another, and rose up with difficulty, with their limbs bruised with stones. Then Srutasarman, in his pride, went forward to seize the serpent; but it hurled him back with the blast of its breath like the others. He fell at a short distance, and rose up again, and ran again towards it; when it carried him a greater distance with its breath, and flung him to earth. Then Srutasarman rose up abashed, with bruised limbs, and Sumeru sent Súryaprabha to lay hold of the serpent. And then the Vidyádharas ridiculed him, saying, "Look! he too is trying to catch the snake! O! these men, thoughtless as monkeys, imitate whatever they see another doing." Even while they were mocking him, Súryaprabha went and seized the serpent, whose mouth was quiet, and dragged it out of the hole. But at that moment the serpent became a priceless quiver, and a rain of flowers fell from the sky on his head. And a heavenly voice sounded aloud--"Súryaprabha, thine is this imperishable quiver equal to a magic power, so take it." Then the Vidyádharas were cast down, Súryaprabha seized the quiver, and Maya and Sunítha and Sumeru were delighted. Then Srutasarman departed, accompanied by the host of the Vidyádharas, and his ambassador came to Súryaprabha and said; "The august lord Srutasarman thus commands--'Give me that quiver, if you value your life.'" Then Súryaprabha said; "Ambassador, go and tell him this--'Your own body shall become a quiver, bristling all over with my arrows.'" When the ambassador heard this speech, he turned and went away, and all laughed at that furious message of Srutasarman's [657], and Sumeru, joyfully embracing Súryaprabha, said to him--"I am delighted that that speech of Siva's has without doubt been fulfilled, for now that you have acquired this excellent quiver, you have practically acquired sovereign empire; so come and obtain now a splendid bow with calm intrepidity." When they heard Sumeru say this, and he himself led the way, they all, Súryaprabha and the others, went to the mountain Hemakúta. And on the north side of it they reached a beautiful lake named Mánasa, which seemed to have been the first assay of the Creator's skill when making the sea, which eclipsed with its full-blown golden lotuses shaken by the wind, the faces of the heavenly nymphs sporting in the water. And while they were contemplating the beauty of the lake, Srutasarman and all the others came there. And then Súryaprabha made a sacrifice with lotuses and ghee, and immediately a terrible cloud rose up from that lake. That cloud filled the heaven, and poured down a great rain, and among the rain-drops fell from the cloud a black serpent. By the order of Sumeru, Súryaprabha rose up, and seized that serpent with a firm grasp, though it resisted, thereupon it became a bow. When it became a bow, a second snake fell from the cloud, through fear of the fiery poison of which all the sky-goers fled. That serpent too, when seized by Súryaprabha, like the first, became a bowstring, and the cloud quickly disappeared. And after a rain of flowers, a voice was heard from heaven,--"Súryaprabha, you have won this bow Amitabala and this string which cannot be cut, so take these priceless treasures." And Súryaprabha took that excellent bow with the string. Srutasarman, for his part, went despondent to his wood of ascetics, and Súryaprabha, and Maya and the others were delighted. Then they asked Sumeru about the origin of the bow, and he said--"Here there is a great and marvellous wood of bamboo canes; whatever bamboos are cut from it and thrown into this lake, become great and wonderful bows; and these bows have been acquired by several of the gods before yourself, and by Asuras and Gandharvas, and distinguished Vidyádharas. They have various names, but the bows appropriated to emperors are all called Amitabala, and were in old time deposited in the lake by the gods. And they are obtained, through the favour of Siva, with these exertions, by certain men of virtuous conduct destined to be emperors. Hence it comes that Súryaprabha has to-day procured this great bow, and these companions of his shall procure bows suited to them. For they, being heroes who have acquired the sciences, are appropriate recipients for them, for they are still procured by worthy men, as is right." When the companions of Súryaprabha, Prabhása and the others, heard this speech of Sumeru's, they went to the bamboo-grove, and after defeating the king Chandradatta, who guarded it, they brought the bamboos, and threw them into the lake. And these heroic men, by fasting on the bank of the lake, and muttering prayers, and sacrificing, obtained bows in seven days. When they returned and told their adventure, Súryaprabha returned with them and Maya and the others to that wood of ascetics, in which Sumeru dwelt. Then Sumeru said to him: "It is strange that your friends have conquered Chandradatta, the king of the bamboo-wood, though he is invincible. He possesses a science called the bewildering science, for that reason he is hard to conquer. Surely he must have been keeping it to use against a more important enemy. For this reason he did not employ it against these companions of yours on the present occasion, for it only can succeed once in his hands, not repeatedly. For he employed it once against his spiritual preceptor to try its force, thereupon he laid upon him this curse. So this matter should be thought upon, for the might of sciences is hard to overcome, and for that reason you should consult the revered Maya. What can I say in his presence? Of what avail is a candle in the face of the sun?" When Sumeru had said this to Súryaprabha, Maya said; "Sumeru has told you the truth in few words, listen to this which I now say--From undeveloped matter there spring in this world various powers, and subordinate powers. Among them the sound expressed by Anusvára arises from the power of breathing, and becomes a spell of force in magic sciences, when accompanied with the doctrine of the highest truth. And of those sciences which deal with spells, and which are acquired by supernatural knowledge, or austerity, or the holy command of holy men, the power is hard to resist. So, my son, you have obtained all the sciences, except two, in which you are deficient, namely, the science of bewildering, and that of counteracting. But Yájnavalkya knows them, therefore go and ask him to bestow them on you." When thus advised by Maya, Súryaprabha went into the presence of that rishi. That hermit made him dwell for seven days in the serpent-lake, and ordered him to perform austerities for three days in the midst of the fire. And he gave him the bewildering power when he had endured for seven days the bite of the snakes, and the counteracting power when he had resisted for three days the force of the fire. [658] And when he had obtained these sciences, that hermit ordered him again to enter the fire-cavity, and he consented and did it. And immediately there was bestowed on Súryaprabha a chariot in the form of a white lotus, that moved at the will of the possessor, and travelled through the air, which was furnished with a hundred and eight wings, and the same number of dwellings, and constructed of precious jewels of various kinds. And a voice from heaven addressed that resolute one,--"You have obtained this chariot suitable for an emperor, and you must place your wives in all these dwellings, in order that they may be safe from your enemies." Then he, bending low, addressed this petition to his preceptor Yájnavalkya--"Tell me what fee I am to pay." The hermit answered him--"Remember me at the time when you are anointed emperor, this in itself will be sufficient fee; in the meanwhile go to your army." Then he bowed before that hermit, and ascended that chariot, and went to his army, that was encamped in the place where Sumeru dwelt. There he told his story, and Maya and the others, with Sunítha and Sumeru, congratulated him, now that he had obtained a magic chariot. Then Sunítha called to mind that Suvásakumára, and he came and said to Maya and the others, with the kings; "Súryaprabha has obtained a chariot and all the magic sciences; so why do you even now remain indifferent about conquering your enemies?" When Maya heard that, he said, "Reverend sir, you have spoken rightly, but first let an ambassador be sent, and let policy be employed." When Maya said this, the hermit's son said--"So be it! What harm can this do? Let this Prahasta be sent. He is discerning, eloquent, and understands the nature of business and occasions, and he is stern and enduring, he possesses all the qualities of an ambassador." All approved this speech of his, and after giving Prahasta instructions, they sent him off as ambassador to Srutasarman. When he had gone, Súryaprabha said to all his followers,--"Hear the strange wonderful vision that I have had--I remember, I saw toward the end of last night, that we were all carried away by a great stream of water, and while we were swept away, we kept dancing, we did not sink at all. Then that stream was turned back by a contrary breeze. Then a certain man of fiery brightness drew us out, and threw us into the fire, and we were not burned by the fire. Then a cloud rained a stream of blood, and that blood filled the whole sky, then my sleep came to an end with the night." When he said this, Suvásakumára said to him, "This dream indicates success preceded by a struggle. The stream of water is battle, it is due to valour that you did not sink but danced, and were carried along by the water; the wind, that turned back the water for you, is some saviour to whom men resort for protection; and the man of fiery brightness, who drew you out of it, is Siva in bodily form. And that he threw you into the fire, means that you are cast into a great war; and that the clouds arose, that means the returning again of fear; and the rain of a stream of blood, that means the destroying of fear, and the filling of all the quarters with blood, that means great success for you. Now dreams are of many kinds, [659] the rich-sensed, the true-sensed, and the senseless. A dream which quickly reveals its meaning, is called rich-sensed, a dream in which a propitious god gives a command, is called true-sensed, and one which is brought about by deep meditation and anxiety, they call senseless. For a man under the influence of sleep, with mind bewildered by the quality of passion and withdrawn from outward objects, sees a dream on account of various causes. And it depends upon the time, when it is seen, whether it is fulfilled soon or late, but this kind of dream which is seen at the end of the night is quickly fulfilled. [660]" When Súryaprabha and his companions heard this from the hermit's son, they were much pleased, and rising up they performed the duties of the day. In the meanwhile Prahasta returned from the court of Srutasarman, and, when asked by Maya and the others, he described his adventures. "I went rapidly hence to the city named Trikútapatáká, situated on the mountain Trikúta, built of gold. And being introduced by the door-keeper, I entered, and beheld Srutasarman surrounded by various Vidyádhara kings, by his father Trikútasena, and also by Vikramasakti and Dhurandhara and other heroes, Dámodara among them. And sitting down, I said to Srutasarman, 'I am sent to visit you by the august Súryaprabha: and he commissioned me to give you this command. By the favour of Siva I have obtained precious sciences, and wives and allies. So come and join my army, together with those chiefs of the sky-goers; I am the slayer of those that oppose, but the saviour of those that bend. And as for your carrying off from her relations the maiden Kámachúdámani, the daughter of Sunítha, who ought not to be approached, set her at liberty, for that is a deed of shame.' When I said this they all exclaimed in wrath,--'Who is he that sends us this haughty command? Let him give commands to mortals, but who is he compared with Vidyádharas? Since he assumes such airs, though he is a miserable mortal, he should be destroyed.' "When I heard that, I said, 'What, what? Who is he? Listen, he has been created by Siva as your future emperor. If he is a mortal, then mortals have attained divinity, and the Vidyádharas have seen the valour of that mortal; moreover, if he comes here, we shall soon see which party will be destroyed.' When I said this in wrath, that assembly was disturbed. And Srutasarman and Dhurandhara rushed forward to slay me. And I said to them--'Come now, let me see your valour!' Then Dámodara rose up, and restrained them, exclaiming 'Peace! an ambassador and a Bráhman must not be slain.' Then Vikramasakti said to me--'Depart, ambassador, for we, like your master, are all created by Siva. So let him come, and we will see whether we are able to entertain him or not.' When he said this in a haughty manner, I laughed and said, 'The swans utter their cries in the lotus-bower and enjoy themselves much, until they see the cloud that comes darkening the heaven.' After saying this I rose up in a contemptuous manner, left the court, and came here." When Maya and others heard this from Prahasta, they were pleased. And they all, Súryaprabha and the rest, determined on preparing for battle, and made Prabhása, the impetuous in war, their general. And receiving the command from Suvásakumára, they all prepared that day with strict vows to consecrate themselves for the combat. [661] And at night, Súryaprabha, as he was lying sleepless, saw a wonderful and beautiful maiden enter the chamber, in which he was occupying a solitary couch in accordance with his vow. She came boldly up to him, who pretended to be asleep, with his ministers sleeping round him, and said to her confidante, who was with her; "If he possesses such glorious beauty, when he is asleep, and all the graceful motion of his body is still, what must it be, my friend, when he is awake? So let be! we must not wake him up. I have gratified the curiosity of my eyes. Why should I fix my heart too fondly on him? For he will have a battle with Srutasarman, and who can say what will befall either party in it? For the feast of battle is for consuming the lives of heroes. And should he not be fortunate, we shall have to take some other resolve. [662] And how could one like me captivate the soul of a man who, when roaming in the air, beheld Kámachúdámani?" When she said this, her confidante answered, "Why do you say this? Why, fair one, is it your duty not to allow your heart to attach itself to him? Why should not he, the sight of whom captivated the heart of Kámachúdámani, captivate the heart of any other lady, were she even Arundhatí in bodily presence? And do you not know that he will prosper in fight by the force of science? And when he is emperor, you, and Kámachúdámani, and Suprabhá of the same family, are to be his wives, so say the holy sages, and in these very days he has married Suprabhá. So, how can he be unsuccessful in fight? For the predictions of the sages are never falsified. And will you not captivate the heart of the man, whose heart was captivated by Suprabhá? For you, blameless one, exceed her in beauty. And if you hesitate through regard for your relations, that is not right, for good women have no relations but their husband." That excellent maiden, when she heard this speech of her confidante's, said--"You have spoken truth, my friend, I need no other relations. And I know my husband will conquer in fight by his science. He has obtained jewels and sciences, but my mind is grieved because up to the present time he has not obtained the virtuous herbs. Now they are all in a cave of the mountain Chandrapáda. But they are to be obtained by an emperor possessing virtue. So, if he were to go there and procure those mighty drugs, it would be well, for his great struggle is nigh at hand, even to-morrow." When Súryaprabha heard this, he flung off all his feigned sleep, and rising up, said respectfully to that maiden--"Lovely-eyed one, you have shewn great favour to me, so I will go there, tell me who you are." When the maiden heard that, she was abashed with shame, and silent, thinking that he had heard all, but her friend said--"This is a maiden named Vilásiní, the daughter of Sumeru, the prince of the Vidyádharas, who was desirous of beholding you." When her friend said this, Vilásiní said to her, "Come, let us go now," and went out of the room. Then Súryaprabha woke up his ministers, Prabhása and the rest, and told them of that method of procuring the drugs, which the lady spoke of. And he sent Prabhása, a fit person to accomplish that, to tell it to Sunítha and Sumeru and Maya. And when they came and approved of it, Súryaprabha, accompanied by his ministers, went with them in the night to the mountain Chandrapáda. And as they were gradually advancing, the Yakshas, Guhyakas, and Kumbhándas, being alarmed, rose up to bar their way, armed with numerous weapons. Some of them Súryaprabha and his friends bewildered with weapons, some they paralysed by science, and at last they reached that mountain Chandrapáda. When they reached the mouth of the cavern in that mountain, the Ganas of Siva prevented them from entering, assuming strange deformed countenances. Then Suvásakumára said to Súryaprabha and the others, "We must not fight with these, for the revered god Siva might be angry. Let us praise that giver of boons by his eight thousand names, and that will make the Ganas [663] favourably disposed to us." Then they all agreed, and praised Siva; and the Ganas, pleased at hearing their master praised, said to them; "We abandon this cave to you, take its potent simples. But Súryaprabha must not enter it himself; let Prabhása enter it, for it will be easy for him to enter." They all said "So be it," and acceded to the advice of the Ganas. Then that cave, as soon as Prabhása entered it, though before enveloped in darkness, became irradiated with light. And four very terrible Rákshasas, who were servants there, rose up, and bending before him, said to him "Enter." Then Prabhása entered, and collected those seven divine herbs, and coming out, gave them all to Súryaprabha. And that moment a voice was heard from heaven, saying, "Súryaprabha, of great power are these seven drugs which you have obtained to-day." When Súryaprabha and the others heard that, they were delighted, and quickly returned to the dwelling of Sumeru to greet their army. Then Sunítha asked that Suvásakumára; "Hermit, why was Prabhása allowed by the Ganas to enter the cave, and not Súryaprabha, and why was he also welcomed by the servants?" When the hermit heard that, he said in the hearing of all, "Listen, I will explain this--Prabhása is a great benefactor to Súryaprabha, being a second self to him, there is no difference between them. Moreover, no one is equal in might and courage to Prabhása, and this cave belongs to him on account of his good deeds in a former life, and listen, I will tell you what sort of a person he was in a former existence." Story of the generous Dánava Namuchi. In old times there was an excellent Dánava named Namuchi, who was devoted to charity and very brave, and did not refuse to give anything to anybody that asked, even if he were his enemy. He practised asceticism as a drinker of smoke for ten thousand years, and obtained as a favour from Brahmá, that he should be proof against iron, stone, and wood. Then he frequently conquered Indra and made him flee, so the rishi Kasyapa entreated him, and made him make peace with the gods. Then the gods and Asuras, as their enmity was at an end, deliberated together, and went to the ocean of milk, and churned it with the mountain Mandara. And as Vishnu and the other gods received Lakshmí and other things as their shares, so Namuchi gained the horse Uchchhaihsravas; and the other gods and Asuras received other various shares, appointed by Brahmá, of the things that rose from the sea, when churned. And the amrita at last came up at the end of the churning, and the gods stole it, so a quarrel again took place between them and the Asuras. Then, as fast as the gods killed an Asura in their light with them, the horse Uchchhaihsravas immediately restored him to life by smelling him. The consequence was that the gods found it impossible to conquer the Daityas and Dánavas. Then Vrihaspati said in secret to Indra, who was in despair: "There is only one expedient left, adopt it without delay; go to Namuchi yourself, and ask him for that excellent horse, for he will certainly give it to you, though you are his enemy, sooner than mar the glory of open-handedness, which he has been accumulating since his birth." When the preceptor of the gods said that to him, great Indra went with the gods and craved as a boon that horse Uchchhaihsravas from Namuchi. Then the great-hearted Namuchi reflected, "I never turn back a suppliant, so I will not turn back Indra; and how can I, as long as I am Namuchi, refuse to give him the horse? If the glory of generosity, which I have long been acquiring in the worlds, were to wither, what would be the use to me of prosperity, or life?" Accordingly he gave the horse to Indra, although Sukra warned him not to do it. Then Indra, after he had given the horse, lulled him to security, and as he could not be slain by any other weapon, killed him with foam of the Ganges, in which he had placed a thunderbolt. Alas! terrible in the world is the thirst for enjoyment, carried away by which even gods do not shrink from unbecoming and infamous conduct. When Danu, the mother of Namuchi, heard this, being afflicted with grief, she made by virtue of her asceticism a solemn resolve for the allaying of her sorrow, "May that mighty Namuchi be again born in my womb, and may he again become invincible by the gods in battle." Then he was again conceived in her womb, and born as an Asura composed all of jewels, named Prabala on account of his strength. Then he performed asceticism, and satisfying supplicants even with his life, became successful, and as prince of the Dánavas conquered Indra a hundred times. Then the gods took counsel together, and came to him, and said to him: "By all means give us your body for a human sacrifice." [664] When he heard that, he gave them his own body, although they were his enemies; noble men do not turn their backs on a suppliant, but bestow on him even their lives. Then that Dánava Prabala was cut to pieces by the gods, and he has been again born in the world of men with the body of Prabhása. "So Prabhása was first Namuchi, and then he was Prabala, and then he became Prabhása, therefore on account of his merit he is hard for his enemies to conquer. And that cave of herbs, which belonged to that Prabala, is for that reason the property of Prabhása, and is at his command with its servants. And below it there is in Pátála [665] the mansion of Prabala, and in it there are his twelve head-wives beautifully adorned, and various jewels, and many kinds of weapons, and a wishing-stone, and a hundred thousand warriors, and also horses. This all belongs to Prabhása, and was acquired by him in a former life. Such a hero is Prabhása; in him nothing is wonderful." When they heard this from the hermit's son, Súryaprabha and his followers, with Maya and Prabhása, went immediately to that cavern belonging to Prabhása, that led down to Pátála, for the purpose of securing the jewels. Prabhása alone went in by that entrance, and secured his former wives, and the wishing-stone, and the horses, and the Asura warriors, and coming out again with all his wealth, he gave great satisfaction to Súryaprabha. Then that Súryaprabha, having quickly obtained what he wished, returned to his own camp with Maya and Sunítha and Prabhása, followed by Sumeru and the other kings and the ministers. There, after the Asuras and kings and others had gone to their own quarters, he again was consecrated for the fight, restraining his passions, and spent the rest of the night on a bed of kusa grass. CHAPTER XLVII. Early the next morning, Súryaprabha set out from the hermitage of Sumeru with his forces to conquer Srutasarman. And arriving near the mountain of Trikúta his dwelling place, he encamped, driving away the enemies' army with his own force, which was established there. And while he was encamped there with Sumeru, Maya, and others, and was in the hall of council, an ambassador came from the lord of Trikúta. And when he came, he said to Sumeru the Vidyádhara prince; "The king, the father of Srutasarman, sends you this message. 'We have never entertained you, as you were far off; now you have arrived in our territory with guests, so now we will shew you appropriate hospitality.'" When Sumeru heard this scoffingly ambiguous message, he said in answer: "Bravo! you will not get another guest such a fit object of hospitality as we are. Hospitality will not bear its fruit in the next world, its fruit is in this. So here we are, entertain us." When Sumeru said this, the ambassador returned to his master as he came. Then Súryaprabha and the others, established upon an elevated place, surveyed their armies encamped separately. Then Sunítha said to his father-in-law the Asura Maya: "Explain to me the arrangement of the warriors in our army." Then that all-knowing prince of the Dánavas said, "I will do so, listen;" and pointing them out with his finger, he began to say--"These kings Subáhu, Nirgháta, Mushtika, and Gohara, and Pralamba, and Pramátha, and Kankata, and Pingala, and Vasudatta and others, are considered half-power warriors. [666] And Ankurin, and Suvisála, and Dandin, and Bhúshana, and Somila, and Unmattaka, and Devasarman, and Pitrisarman, and Kumáraka, and Haridatta and others are all full-power warriors. And Prakampana, and Darpita, and Kumbhíra, and Mátripálita, and Mahábhata, and Vírasvámin, and Surádhara, and Bhándíra, and Sinhadatta and Gunavarman, with Kítaka and Bhíma and Bhayankara, these are all warriors of double power. And Virochana, and Vírasena, and Yajnasena, and Khujjara, and Indravarman, and Sevaraka, and Krúrakarman, and Nirásaka, these princes are of triple power, my son. And Susarman, and Báhusálin, and Visákha, and Krodhana, and Prachanda,--these princes are warriors of fourfold power. And Junjarin, and Vírasarman, and Pravíravara, and Supratijna and Maráráma, and Chandadanta, and Jálika, and the three, Sinhabhata, Vyághrabhata, and Satrubhata, these kings and princes are warriors of fivefold power. But this prince Ugravarman is a warrior of sixfold power. And the prince Visoka, and Sutantu, and Sugama, and Narendrasarman are considered warriors of sevenfold power. And this king Sahasráyu is a great warrior. But this Satáníka is lord of a host of great warriors. And Subhása, Harsha, and Vimala, the companions of Súryaprabha, Mahábuddhi and Achalabuddhi, Priyankara and Subhankara are great warriors, as also Yajnaruchi and Dharmaruchi. But Visvaruchi, and Bhása, and Siddhártha, these three ministers of Súryaprabha, are chiefs of hosts of great warriors. And his ministers Prahasta and Mahártha are leaders of hosts of transcendent warriors. And Prajnádhya and Sthirabuddhi are leaders of hosts of hosts of warriors; and the Dánava Sarvadamana, and Pramathana here, and Dhúmaketu, and Pravahana, and Vajrapanjara, and Kálachakra, and Marudvega are leaders of warriors and transcendent warriors. Prakampana and Sinhanáda are leaders of hosts of leaders of hosts of warriors. And Mahámáya, and Kámbalika, and Kálakampana here, and Prahrishtaroman, these four lords of the Asuras, are kings over chiefs of hosts of transcendent warriors. And this Prabhása, the general of the army, who is equal to Súryaprabha, and this son of Sumeru, Kunjarakumára, these two are leaders of hosts of chiefs of hosts of great warriors. Such heroes are there in our army, and others besides, girt with their followers. There are more in the hostile army, but Siva being well disposed towards us, they will not be able to resist our host. While the Asura Maya was saying this to Sunítha, another ambassador came from the father of Srutasarman, and said thus to him; "The king of Trikúta sends this message to you; 'This is a great feast for heroes--the feast, which goes by the name of battle. This ground is narrow for it, therefore let us leave it, and go to a place named Kalápagráma, where there is a wide space.'" When Sunítha and the other chiefs with their soldiers heard this, they agreed, and all of them went with Súryaprabha to Kalápagráma. And Srutasarman and his partizans also, eager for battle, went to that same place, surrounded with the hosts of the Vidyádharas. When Súryaprabha and his chiefs saw elephants in the army of Srutasarman, they summoned their contingent of elephants, which was conveyed in the chariot that flew through the air. Then Dámodara, that excellent Vidyádhara, drew up his army in the form of a large needle; Srutasarman himself took up his position on the flank with his ministers, and Dámodara was in front, and other great warriors in other places. And Prabhása, the leader of Súryaprabha's army, arranged it in the form of a crescent; he himself was in the centre, and Kunjarakumára and Prahasta at the two horns; and Súryaprabha, and Sunítha and the other chiefs, all remained in the rear. And Sumeru with Suvásakumára stood near him. Thereupon the war-drums were beaten in both armies. And in the meanwhile the heaven was filled with the gods, come to see the battle, together with Indra, and the Lokapálas, and the Apsarases. And Siva, the lord of all, came there with Párvatí, followed by deities, and the Ganas, and demons, and the mothers. [667] And holy Brahmá came accompanied by the Vedas incarnate in bodily form, beginning with the Gáyatrí, and the Sástras and all the great Rishis. And the god Vishnu came, riding on the king of birds, bearing his weapon the discus, accompanied by goddesses, of whom the goddesses of Fortune, Glory, and Victory were the chief. And Kasyapa came with his wives, and the Ádityas and the Vasus, and the chiefs of the Yakshas, Rákshasas and snakes, and also the Asuras with Prahláda at their head. The sky was obscured with them, and the battle of those two armies began, terrible with the clashing of weapons, accompanied with loud shouts. The whole heaven was darkened by the dense cloud of arrows, through which the flashes, made by the arrows striking against one another, played like lightning, and rivers of blood flowed, swollen with the gore of many elephants and horses wounded with weapons, in which the bodies of heroes moved like alligators. That battle gave great delight to heroes, jackals, and goblins, that danced, waded, and shouted in blood. When the confused mêlée, in which countless soldiers fell, had abated, Súryaprabha, and the other chiefs, gradually began to perceive the distinction between their own army and that of the enemy, and heard in order from Sumeru the names and lineage of the chiefs fighting in front of the enemies' host. Then first took place a single combat between king Subáhu and a chief of the Vidyádharas, named Attahása. Subáhu fought a long time, until Attahása, after riddling him with arrows, cut off his head with a crescent-headed shaft. When Mushtika saw that Subáhu was slain, he rushed forward in wrath; he too fell smitten by Attahása with an arrow in the heart. When Mushtika was slain, a king named Pralamba in wrath rushed on, and attacked Attahása with showers of arrows, but Attahása slew his retainers, and striking the hero Pralamba with an arrow in a mortal place, laid him low on the seat of his chariot. A king named Mohana, when he saw Pralamba dead, engaged with Attahása and smote him with arrows. Then Attahása cut his bow and slew his charioteer, and laid him low, slain with a terrific blow. When the host of Srutasarman saw that the dexterous Attahása had slain those four warriors, expecting the victory, they shouted for joy. When Harsha, the companion of Súryaprabha, saw that, he was wroth, and with his followers attacked Attahása and his followers; and with shafts he repelled his shafts, and he slew his followers, and killed his charioteer, and two or three times cut his bow and his banner, and at last he cleft asunder his head with his arrows, so that he fell from his chariot on the earth, pouring forth a stream of blood. When Attahása was slain, there was such a panic in the battle, that in a moment only half the two armies remained. Horses, elephants and footmen fell down there slain, and only the trunks of slaughtered men remained standing in the van of battle. Then a chief of the Vidyádharas, named Vikritadanshtra, angry at the slaughter of Attahása, showered arrows upon Harsha. But Harsha repelled his arrows, struck down his chariot-horses, and his banner and his charioteer, and cut off his head with its trembling earrings. But when Vikritadanshtra was killed, a Vidyádhara king, named Chakravála, in wrath attacked Harsha; he slew Harsha still fighting on, though fatigued with combat, after his bow had been frequently cut asunder, and his other weapons damaged. Angry at that, king Pramátha attacked him, and he too was slain by that Chakravála in fight. In the same way four other distinguished kings, who attacked him one by one, were slain one after another by that Chakravála, namely, Kankata, and Visála, and Prachanda and Ankurin. When king Nirgháta saw that, he was wroth, and attacked Chakravála, and those two, Chakravála and Nirgháta, fought for a long time, and at last they broke one another's chariots to pieces, and so became infantry soldiers, and the two, rushing furiously together, armed with sword and discus, cleft with sword-strokes one another's heads, and fell dead on the earth. Then the two armies were dispirited, seeing those two warriors dead, but nevertheless a king of the Vidyádharas, named Kálakampana, stepped forward to the front of the fight. And a prince, named Prakampana, attacked him, but he was in a moment struck down by that Kálakampana. When he was struck down, five other warriors attacked Kálakampana, namely Jálika, and Chandadatta, and Gopaka, and Somila, and Pitrisarman; all these let fly arrows at him at the same time. But Kálakampana deprived all five of their chariots, and slew them at the same time, piercing the five with five arrows in the heart. That made the Vidyádharas shout for joy, and the men and Asuras despond. Then four other warriors rushed upon him at the same time, Unmattaka and Prasasta, Vilambaka and Dhurandhara; Kálakampana slew them all easily, in the same way he killed six other warriors that ran towards him, Tejika, and Geyika, and Vegila, and Sákhila, and Bhadrankara and Dandin, great warriors with many followers. And again he slew five others that met him in fight, Bhíma, Bhíshana, Kumbhíra, Vikata, and Vilochana. And a king, named Sugana, when he saw the havoc that Kálakampana had made in the battle, ran to meet him. Kálakampana fought with him until both had their horses and charioteers killed, and were compelled to abandon their chariots; then Kálakampana, reduced to fight on foot, laid Sugana, who was also fighting on foot, low on the earth with a sword-cut. Then the sun, having beheld that surprising struggle of Vidyádharas with men, went grieved to rest. [668] Not only did the field of battle become red, filled with streaming blood, but the heaven also became red, when evening set her foot-prints there. Then the corpses and demons began their evening dance, and both armies, stopping the battle, went to their camps. In the army of Srutasarman were slain that day three heroes, but thirty-three distinguished heroes were slain in the army of Súryaprabha. Then Súryaprabha, grieved at the slaughter of his kinsmen and friends, spent that night apart from his wives. And eager for the fight, he passed that night in various military discussions with his ministers, without going to sleep. And his wives, grieved on account of the slaughter of their relations, met together in one place that night, having come for the sake of mutual condolence. But even on that melancholy occasion they indulged in miscellaneous conversation; there is no occasion on which women are not irrelevant in their talk. In the course of this conversation, one princess said--"It is wonderful! How comes it that to-night our husband has gone to sleep without any of his wives?" Hearing that, another said--"Our husband is to-day grieved on account of the slaughter of his followers in battle, so how can he take any pleasure in the society of women?" Then another said, "If he were to obtain a new beauty, he would that instant forget his grief." Then another said--"Do not say so; although he is devoted to the fair sex, he would not behave in this way on such a sad occasion." While they were thus speaking, one said with wonder; "Tell me why our husband is so devoted to women, that, though he has carried off many wives, he is perpetually marrying new princesses and is never satisfied." One of the wives, a clever woman of the name of Manovatí, said when she heard this,--"Hear why kings have many loves. The good qualities of lovely women are different, varying with their native land, their beauty, their age, their gestures, and their accomplishments, no one woman possesses all good qualities. The women of Karnáta, of Láta, of Sauráshtra and Madhyadesa, please by the peculiar behaviour of their various countries. Some fair ones captivate by their faces like an autumn moon, others by their breasts full and firm like golden ewers, and others by their limbs, charming from their beauty. One has limbs yellow as gold, another is dark like a priyangu, another, being red and white, captivates the eyes as soon as seen. One is of budding beauty, another of full-developed youth, another is agreeable on account of her maturity, and distinguished by increasing coquetry. One looks lovely when smiling, another is charming even in anger, another charms with gait resembling that of an elephant, another with swan-like motion. One, when she prattles, irrigates the ears with nectar; another is naturally beautiful, when she looks at one with graceful contraction of the eyebrows. One charms by dancing, another pleases by singing, and another fair one attracts by being able to play on the lyre and other instruments. One is distinguished for good temper, another is remarkable for artfulness; another enjoys good fortune from being able to understand her husband's mind. But, to sum up, others possess other particular merits; so every lovely woman has some peculiar good point, but of all the women in the three worlds none possesses all possible virtues. So kings, having made up their minds to experience all kinds of fascinations, though they have captured many wives for themselves, are for ever seizing new ones. [669] But the truly noble never, under any circumstances, desire the wives of others. So this is not our husband's fault, and we cannot be jealous." When the head-wives of Súryaprabha, beginning with Madanasená, had been addressed in this style by Manovatí, they made one after another remarks to the same effect. Then, in their merriment, they laid aside all the ties of reserve, and began to tell one another all kinds of secrets. For unfortunately there is nothing which women will not let out, when they are met together in social intercourse, and their minds are interested in the course of the conversation. At last that long conversation of theirs was somehow or other brought to an end, and in course of time the night passed away, during which Súryaprabha was longing to conquer the host of his enemies, for he was alone, intently waiting for the time when the darkness should depart. [670] CHAPTER XLVIII. The next morning, Súryaprabha and his party, and Srutasarman and his supporters, again went to the field of battle armed, with their forces. And again the gods and Asuras, with Indra, Brahmá, Vishnu, and Rudra, and with the Yakshas, snakes, and Gandharvas, came to see the fight. Dámodara drew up the troops of Srutasarman in the form of a discus, and Prabhása drew up the troops of Súryaprabha in the form of a thunderbolt. Then the battle of those two armies went on, deafening the horizon with drums and the shouts of champions, and the sun hid himself in flights of arrows, as if out of fear that the warriors smitten with weapons would certainly pierce his disk. Then Prabhása, by command of Súryaprabha, broke the discus-arrangement of the enemy's host, hard for another to break, and entered alone. And Dámodara himself came and defended that opening in the line, and Prabhása fought against him unaided. And Súryaprabha, seeing that he had entered alone, sent fifteen great warriors to follow him, Prakampana, and Dhúmraketu, and Kálakampana, and Mahámáya, and Marudvega, and Prahasta, and Vajrapanjara, and Kálachakra, and Pramathana, and Sinhanáda, and Kambala, and Vikatáksha, and Pravahana, and Kunjarakumáraka, and Prahrishtaroman the heroic Asura prince: all those great warriors rushed forward to the opening in the line; then Dámodara exhibited his wonderful heroism, in that alone he fought with those fifteen. When Indra saw that, he said to the hermit Nárada, who was at his side, "Súryaprabha and the others of his party are incarnations of Asuras, but Srutasarman is a portion of me, and all these Vidyádharas are portions of the gods, so observe, hermit, this is a disguised fight between the gods and Asuras. And observe, in it Vishnu is, as ever, the ally of the gods, for Dámodara, who is a portion of him, is fighting here." While Indra was saying this, fourteen great warriors came to assist the general Dámodara,--Brahmagupta and Váyubala, and Yamadanshtra, and Suroshana, and Roshávaroha, and Atibala, and Tejahprabha, and Dhurandhara, and Kuveradatta, and Varunasarman, and Kámbalika, and the hero Dushtadamana, and Dohana and Árohana. And those fifteen heroes, joined with Dámodara, fighting in front of the line, kept off the followers of Súryaprabha. Then single combats took place between them; Prakampana carried on a missile fight with Dámodara, and Dhúmraketu fought with Brahmagupta, and Mahámáya fought with Atibala, the Dánava Kálakampana fought with Tejahprabha, and the great Asura Marudvega with Váyubala, and Vajrapanjara fought with Yamadanshtra, and the heroic Asura Kálachakra with Suroshana; Pramathana fought with Kuveradatta, and the king of the Daityas, named Sinhanáda, with Varunasarman. Pravahana fought with Dushtadamana, and the Dánava Prahrishtaroman fought with Roshávaroha; and Vikatáksha fought with Dhurandhara, Kambala fought with Kámbalika, and Kunjarakumáraka with Árohana, and Prahasta with Dohana, who was also called Mahotpáta. When these pairs of warriors were thus fighting in the front of the line, Sunítha said to Maya, "Alas! observe, our heroic warriors, though skilled in the use of many weapons, have been prevented by these antagonists from entering the enemies' line; but Prabhása entered before recklessly alone, so we do not know what will become of him there." When Suvásakumára heard this, he said, "All the gods, Asuras, and men in the three worlds are not a match for this Prabhása unaided, much less then are these Vidyádharas. So why do you fear without reason, though you know this well enough?" While the hermit's son was saying this, the Vidyádhara Kálakampana came to meet Prabhása in fight. Then Prabhása said to him, "Ha! Ha! you have rendered me a great service, so let me now see your valour here." Saying this, Prabhása let fly at him a succession of arrows, and Kálakampana in return showered sharp arrows upon him. Then that Vidyádhara and that man fought together with arrows and answering arrows, making the worlds astonished. Then Prabhása with a sharp arrow struck down the banner of Kálakampana, with a second he killed his charioteer, with four more his four horses, and with one more he cut his bow in half, with two more he cut off his hands, with two more his arms, and with two more his two ears, and with one sharp-edged arrow he cut off the head of his foe, and thus displayed wonderful dexterity. Thus Prabhása, as it were, chastised Kálakampana, being angry with him because he had slain so many heroes in his own army. And the men and Asuras, when they saw that Vidyádhara chief slain, raised a shout, and the Vidyádharas immediately proclaimed their despondency. [671] Then a king of the Vidyádharas, named Vidyutprabhá, lord of the hill of Kálanjara, in wrath attacked Prabhása. When he was fighting with Prabhása, Prabhása first cut asunder his banner, and then kept cutting his bows in two, as fast as he took them up. Then the Vidyádhara, being ashamed, by his delusive power flew up invisible into the sky, and rained swords, clubs, and other weapons upon Prabhása. Prabhása, for his part, swept away his succession of missiles with others, and by the illuminating weapon made that Asura manifest, and then employing the weapon of fire, he burned up Vidyutprabhá with its blaze, and bringing him down from the heaven, laid him dead on the earth. When Srutasarman saw this, he said to his warriors, "Observe, this man has slain two chiefs of hosts of great warriors. Now why do you put up with it? Join together and slay him." When they heard that, eight warriors in anger surrounded Prabhása. One was a king of the Vidyádharas named Úrdhvaroman, a lord of hosts of warriors, dwelling in the great mountain named Vankataka. And the second warrior was a chief of the Vidyádharas named Vikrosana, the king of the rock Dharanídhara. And the third was the hero Indramálin, a prince of the Vidyádharas, lord of a host of distinguished warriors, and his home was the mountain Lílá. And the fourth was an excellent Vidyádhara named king Kákandaka, a chief of a host of warriors, and his dwelling was in the mountain Malaya. And the fifth was Darpaváha by name, lord of the hill Niketa, and the sixth was Dhúrtavyayana the lord of the mountain Anjana, and both these Vidyádharas were chiefs of excellent warriors. And the seventh one, whose chariot was drawn by asses, was named Varáhasvámin, king of the mount Kumuda, and he was chief of a host of great warriors. And the eighth warrior was like him, Medhávara king of Dundhubhi. Prabhása repelled the numerous arrows, which these eight came and discharged, and he pierced them all at the same time with arrows. And he slew the horse of one, and of one the charioteer, and he cut in half the banner of one, and he cleft the bow of another. But Medhávara he struck at the same time with four arrows in the heart, and at once laid him dead on the earth. And then he fought with the others, and cut off with an anjalika [672] the head of Úrdhvaroman with its curled and plaited hair, and of the other six he killed the horses and charioteers, and at last laid themselves low, cutting off their heads with crescent-headed arrows. And then a rain of flowers fell on his head from heaven, encouraging the kings of the Asuras, and discouraging the Vidyádharas. Then four more great warriors, armed with bows, sent by Srutasarman, surrounded Prabhása; one was named Kácharaka, the lord of the mountain Kuranda; the second Dindimálin, whose home was the hill of Panchaka, and the third was Vibhávasu, king of the mountain Jayapura, the fourth was named Dhavala, the ruler of Bhúmitundika. Those excellent Vidyádharas, chiefs of hosts of great warriors, let fly five hundred arrows at the same time at Prabhása. But Prabhása easily disposed of all, one by one, each with eight arrows; with one arrow he cut down the banner, with one cleft the bow, with one he killed the charioteer, with four the horses, and with one more he cut off the head of the warrior, and then shouted triumphantly. Then another four Vidyádharas, by the order of Srutasarman, assembled in fight against Prabhása. The first was named Bhadrankara, dark as the blue water-lily, sprung from Mercury in the house [673] of Visvávasu, but the second was Niyantraka like the fire in brightness, sprung from Mars in the house of Jambaka, and the third was called Kálakopa, very black in hue, with tawny hair, sprung from Saturn in the house of Dámodara. And the fourth was Vikramasakti, like gold in brightness, sprung from the planet Jupiter in the house of the Moon. The three first were lords of hosts of lords of hosts of transcendent warriors, but the fourth was a great hero surpassing the rest in valour. And those haughty chiefs attacked Prabhása with heavenly weapons. Prabhása repelled their weapons with the weapon of Náráyana, and easily cut asunder the bow of each eight times; then he repelled the arrows and clubs which they hurled, and slaying their horses and charioteers, deprived them all of their chariots. When Srutasarman saw that, he quickly sent other ten lords of the Vidyádharas, chiefs of lord of hosts of lords of hosts of warriors, two called Dama and Niyama, who exactly resembled one another in appearance, two sons born to the Asvins in the house of the lord of Ketumálá, and Vikrama and Sankrama, and Parákrama and Ákrama, and Sammardana and Mardana, and Pramardana and Vimardana, the eight similar sons of the Vasus born in the house of Makaranda. And when they came, the previous assailants mounted other chariots. Wonderful to say, though all those fourteen joined together, and showered arrows on Prabhása, he alone fought with them fearlessly. Then, by the order of Súryaprabha, Kunjarakumára and Prahasta left the mêlée and flying up from the front of the line, weapons in hand, white and black in hue, came to the aid of Prabhása, like Ráma and Krishna over again. They, though fighting on foot, harassed Dama and Niyama, by cutting asunder their bows and killing their charioteers. When they, in their fear, soared up to heaven, Kunjarakumára and Prahasta soared up also, weapons in hand. When Súryaprabha saw that, he quickly sent them his ministers Mahábuddhi and Achalabuddhi to act as charioteers. Then Prahasta and Kunjarakumára discovered, by employing magic collyrium, those two sons of the Vidyádharas, Dama and Niyama, though they had made themselves invisible by magic power, and riddled them so with showers of arrows that they fled. And Prabhása, fighting with the other twelve, cleft all their bows asunder, though they kept continually taking fresh ones. And Prahasta came and killed at the same time the charioteers of all, and Kunjarakumára slew their horses. Then those twelve together, being deprived of their chariots, and finding themselves smitten by three heroes, fled out of the battle. Then Srutasarman, beside himself with grief, anger and shame, sent two more Vidyádharas, captains of hosts of warriors and distinguished warriors; one was called Chandragupta born in the house of the lord of the great mountain Chandrakula, beautiful as a second moon, and the second was his own minister named Narangama, of great splendour, born in the house of the lord of the mountain Dhurandhara. They also, after discharging a shower of arrows, were in a moment deprived of their chariots by Prabhása and his comrades, and disappeared. Then the men and Asuras shouted for joy; but thereupon Srutasarman came himself, with four great warriors of mighty force, named Mahaugha, Árohana, Utpáta and Vetravat, the sons respectively of Tvashtri, [674] Bhaga, Aryaman and Púshan, born in the houses of the four Vidyádhara kings, Chitrapada and others, that ruled over mount Malaya. And Srutasarman himself, blinded with furious anger, was the fifth, and they all fought against Prabhása and his two companions. Then the host of arrows, which they shot at one another, seemed like a canopy spread in the sky by the Fortune of war in the full blaze of the sun. Then those other Vidyádharas, who had been deprived of their chariots, and had fled from the battle, came back into the fight. Then Súryaprabha, seeing many of them assembled in fight, under the leadership of Srutasarman, sent other great warriors of his own to support Prabhása and his comrades, his own friends with Prajnádhya at their head, and the princes of whom Satáníka and Vírasena were the chief. They flew through the air, and Súryaprabha sent the other warriors also through the air in the chariot Bhutásána. When all those archers had gone chariot-borne, the other Vidyádhara kings, who were on the side of Srutasarman, also came up. Then a fight took place between those Vidyádhara princes on the one side, and Prabhása and his comrades on the other, in which there was a great slaughter of soldiers. And in the single combats between the two hosts, many warriors were slain on both sides, men, Asuras, and Vidyádharas. Vírasena slew Dhúmralochana and his followers; but having been deprived of his chariot, he was in his turn killed by Harisarman. Then the Vidyádhara hero Hiranyáksha was killed by Abhimanyu, but Abhimanyu and Haribhata were slain by Sunetra. And Sunetra was killed by Prabhása, who cut off his head. And Jválámálin and Maháyu killed one another. But Kumbhíraka and Nirásaka fought with their teeth, after their arms were cut off, and so did Kharva and the mighty Susarman. And the three, Satrubhata, Vyághrabhata, and Sinhabhata were slain by Pravahana, the Vidyádhara king. Pravahana was killed by the two warriors Suroha and Viroha, and those two were slain by Sinhabala, the dweller in the cemetery. That very Sinhabala, whose chariot was drawn by ghosts, and Kapilaka, and Chitrápída the Vidyádhara king, and Jagajjvara, and the hero Kántápati, and the mighty Suvarna, and the two Vidyádhara kings Kámaghana and Krodhapati, and king Baladeva and Vichitrápída, these ten were slain by the prince Satáníka. When these heroes had been slain, Srutasarman, beholding the slaughter of the Vidyádharas, himself attacked Satáníka in his anger. Then a terrible fight took place between those two, lasting to the close of the day, and causing a great slaughter of soldiers, exciting the wonder even of the gods, and it continued until hundreds of corpses, rising up all round, laid hold of the demons as their partners, when the time arrived for the joyous evening dance. At the close of day the Vidyádharas, depressed at the great slaughter of their army, and grieved at the death of their friends, and the men and Asuras having won the victory by sheer force stopped the combat, and went each of them to their own camps. At that time two Vidyádharas, chiefs of captains of bands of warriors, who had deserted the cause of Srutasarman, came, introduced by Sumeru, and said to Súryaprabha, after bowing before him: "We are named Maháyána and Sumáya, and this Sinhabala was the third of us; we had obtained magic power by having the rule of a great cemetery, and were unassailable by the other Vidyádharas. While we, such as you have heard, were once taking our ease in a corner of the great cemetery, there came to us a good witch named Sarabhánaná, of great and godlike power, who is always well disposed towards us. We bowed before her and asked her, 'Where have you been, honoured lady, and what have you seen there strange?' She thereupon related this adventure." Adventure of the witch Sarabhánaná. 'I went with the witches to visit my master, the god Mahákála, [675] and while I was there, a king of the Vetálas came and reported: "See, O master, the chiefs of the Vidyádharas have killed our commander-in-chief named Agnika, and one named Tejahprabha is swiftly carrying off his lovely daughter. But the holy sages have foretold that she shall be the wife of the emperor of the Vidyádharas, so grant us a boon, and have her released before he forcibly carries her off to a distance." When the god heard this speech of the afflicted Vetála, he said to me--"Go and set her free," then I went through the air and came up with the maiden. Tejahprabha said, "I am carrying off the girl for our rightful emperor Srutasarman," but I paralyzed him by my magic power, and bringing back the maiden, gave her to my master. And he made her over to her own family. I in truth went through this strange adventure. Then I remained there some days, and after taking a reverent farewell of the god I came here.' "When that witch Sarabhánaná had said this, we said to her--'Tell us, who is to be the future emperor of the Vidyádharas? You in truth know all.' She said--'Súryaprabha will certainly be.' Whereupon Sinhabala said to us--'This is untrue, for have not the gods and Indra girded up their loins to support the cause of Srutasarman?' When the noble woman heard that, she said to us--'If you do not believe this, listen; I tell you that soon there will be war between Súryaprabha and Srutasarman, and when this Sinhabala shall be slain before your eyes by a man in battle, you will recognise this token, and will know that this speech of mine is true.' When that witch had said this, she departed, and those days passed away, and now we have seen with our own eyes, that in truth this Sinhabala has been slain. Relying upon that, we think that you are indeed appointed emperor of all the Vidyádharas, and submitting ourselves to your rule, we have repaired to your two lotus-like feet." When the Vidyádharas Maháyána and Sumáyaka said this, Súryaprabha, in concert with Maya and the rest, received them into confidence and honoured them, and they rejoiced. When Srutasarman heard that, he was in great consternation, but Indra comforted him by a message, sending to him Visvávasu, and commissioning him to say--"Be of good cheer! To-morrow I will aid thee with all the gods in the van of battle." This he said to him out of love, to comfort him. And Súryaprabha, having been encouraged by beholding the breaking of his enemies' line, and having seen in the front of battle the slaughter of his rival's partisans, again forwent the society of his charmers, and entered his dwelling at night surrounded by his ministers. CHAPTER XLIX. Then Súryaprabha, lying on his couch at night, eager for battle, apart from his wives, said to his minister Vítabhíti--"I cannot sleep, so tell me, my friend, some strange story of courage and endurance, to amuse me during the night." When Vítabhíti heard this request of Súryaprabha's, he answered--"I will obey your order," and he told this story. Story of king Mahásena and his virtuous minister Gunasarman. There is a city Ujjayiní, the ornament of this earth, full of numberless jewels of pellucid water. In that city there lived a king named Mahásena, beloved by the virtuous, an unequalled treasury of accomplishments, having the beauty both of the sun and moon. He had a wife named Asokavatí, whom he loved as his life, there was not another woman in the three worlds equal to her in beauty. The king ruled his realm with her for consort, and he had besides a friend, a Bráhman named Gunasarman, whom he respected and loved. And that Bráhman was brave and very handsome, and, though young, had thoroughly mastered the lore of the Vedas, and knew the accomplishments, the Sástras, and the use of weapons, and was always in attendance on the king. And one day, as he was within the palace, a conversation arose about dancing, and the king and queen said to Gunasarman, who was in attendance,--"You know everything, there is no doubt about that; so we have a curiosity to see you dancing; if you know how to dance, kindly exhibit your skill." When Gunasarman heard this, he said with a smile on his face; "I know how to dance, but dancing is a thing not becoming in the king's court; foolish dancing is generally ridiculous and is censured in the Sástras. And far from me be shame here in the presence of the king and queen." When Gunasarman said that, the king answered him, being urged on to it by the queen out of curiosity--"This will not be like a dance on the stage, or in such places, which would make a man feel ashamed, but merely a private display of skill in the society of friends. And at present I am not your king, I am your friend without ceremony, so rest assured that I will not eat to-day, until I have seen your skill in dancing." When the king pressed him in this style, the Bráhman consented to do it. For how can servants refuse the request of an importunate lord? Then that Gunasarman danced so skilfully with his body, that the hearts of both the king and queen danced for joy. And, at the end of it, the king gave him a lyre to play upon, and the moment he tested its tones, he said to the king, "This lyre is not in good order, so give me another one, there is a puppy inside this, your Majesty,--I know that by the indications of the twanging of the strings." Saying this, Gunasarman let go the lyre from under his arm. Then the king sprinkled it, and unscrewed and examined it, and a puppy came out of it. Then king Mahásena praised Gunasarman's omniscience, and was much astonished, and had another lyre brought. He played on that lyre which, like the Ganges that flows in three worlds, [676] was charming from its swift stream of music, [677] and purged the ear by its sound. Then in presence of the king, who with his wife looked on astonished, he exhibited in turn his skill in the nobler studies. Then the king said to him, "If you are skilled in fighting, then shew me a specimen of the art of binding the enemy's limbs with your own hands unarmed." The Bráhman answered him--"King, take your weapons and strike at me, that I may shew you a specimen of my skill." Then, as fast as the king took a sword or other weapon and struck at him, Gunasarman, by that artifice of fettering the limbs immediately disarmed him with ease, and frequently fettered his hand and body, without receiving a wound. Then the king, seeing that he was capable of aiding him in his political affairs, praised that excellent Bráhman of transcendent ability, and honoured him highly. But queen Asokavatí, having beheld again and again the beauty and abilities of that Bráhman, suddenly fell in love with him. She thought to herself, "If I cannot obtain him, of what use is my life to me." Then she artfully said to the king--"Do me a kindness, my husband, and order this Gunasarman to teach me to play on the lyre. For when I beheld to-day his skill in playing on the lyre, I took a desperate fancy to the instrument." When the king heard this, he said to Gunasarman--"By all means teach the queen to play on the lyre." Then Gunasarman said, "I will do so, my sovereign, we will begin the practising on an auspicious day." Then he took leave of the king and went home. But he put off for many days beginning to teach the queen the lyre, seeing the changed expression of the queen, and afraid of some mischief. One day he was standing near the king when he was eating, and when the cook was giving him some condiment, he prevented him, saying, "Stop! stop!" The king asked what this meant, then the discreet man said, "This sauce is poisoned, and I detected it by certain indications. For when the cook was giving you the sauce, he looked at my face, trembling with fear, and with an eye that rolled apprehensively. And we can at once find out whether I am right; let this sauce be given to some one to eat, and I will counteract the effect of the poison." When he said this, the king made the cook eat the sauce, and immediately after he had eaten it, he became senseless. Then Gunasarman counteracted the effect of the poison on the cook by a spell, and when the king asked the cook the truth of the whole matter, he said this--"King, your enemy king Vikramasakti, sovereign of Gauda, sent me here to give you poison. I introduced myself to your majesty as a foreigner skilful in the culinary art, and entered your kitchen. So to-day I have been discovered by that shrewd man in the act of giving you poison in sauce; your majesty knows what to do now." When the cook said this, the king punished him, and being much pleased, gave Gunasarman a thousand villages for saving his life. And the next day, as the queen kept vigorously pressing him, the king made Gunasarman begin to teach her the lyre. Then, while he was teaching her the lyre, the queen Asokavatí indulged in perpetual coquetry, laughter, and mirth. One day, wounded with the arrow of love, she scratched him with her nails frequently in secret, and said to the chaste Gunasarman, who entreated her to desist, "It was yourself that I asked for, handsome man, under the pretext of learning to play the lute, for I am desperately in love with you, so consent to my wishes." When she said this, Gunasarman answered her, "Do not talk so, for you are my master's wife, and such a one as I am should not commit such treason, desist from this reckless conduct." When Gunasarman said this, the queen continued, "Why do you possess in vain this beauty and skill in accomplishments? How can you look with a passionless eye on me who love you so much?" When Gunasarman heard this, he answered sarcastically, "You are right. What is the use of that beauty and skill, which is not tarnished with infamy by seducing the wife of another, and which does not in this world and the next cause one to fall into the ocean of hell?" When he said this, the queen said to him, pretending to be angry, "I am determined to die, if you do not do what I say, so being despised by you, I will slay you before I die." Then Gunasarman said, "By all means, let it be so. For it is better to live for one moment, bound by the bonds of righteousness, than to live unrighteously for hundreds of crores of kalpas. And it is far preferable for me to die without reproach, having done no wrong, than for me to have done wrong, and to be put to death by the king, with reproach attaching to my name." When the queen heard that, she went on to say to him--"Do not commit treason against yourself and me; listen, I will tell you something. The king does not neglect to do what I tell him, even if it is impossible; so I will ask him and get territories given to you, and I will have all your servants made barons, so you will become a king, for you are distinguished for good qualities. So what have you to fear? Who can overpower you and how? So grant my wishes fearlessly, otherwise you will not live." When the king's wife said this, seeing that she was determined, Gunasarman said to her artfully, in order to put her off for a moment,--"If you are persistently set on this, then I will obey your command, but it will not be advisable to do so immediately, for fear it should get abroad; wait for some days; believe that what I say is true; what object have I in incurring your enmity which would ensure my destruction?" Thus Gunasarman comforted her with that hope, and agreed to her request, and then departed with heart lightened. Then, in the course of some days, king Mahásena went and surrounded king Somaka in his treasure-city. And when the king of Gauda, Vikramasakti, knew that he had arrived there, he went and surrounded king Mahásena; then king Mahásena said to Gunasarman--"While we are occupied in besieging one enemy we are besieged by another, so now how are we to fight with two enemies, as we are unequal in force? And how long, being brave men, can we remain without fighting a battle? So what are we to do in this difficulty?" When Gunasarman, who was at the side of the king, was asked this question, he answered--"Be of good courage, my sovereign; I will devise a stratagem that will enable us to get out of this situation, difficult as it is." He comforted the king with these words, and put on his eyes an ointment that rendered him invisible, and at night went, without any one seeing him, to the camp of Vikramasakti. And he entered into his presence, and woke him up while asleep, and said, "Know, O king, that I am come a messenger from the gods. Make peace with king Mahásena and depart quickly, otherwise you will certainly be destroyed here with your army. And if you send an ambassador, he will agree to your proposals of peace; I have been sent by the holy Vishnu to tell you this. For you are a votary of his, and he watches over the safety of his votaries." When king Vikramasakti heard this, he thought, "Certainly this is true, if he were any other, how could he enter this carefully guarded tent? This is not what a mere mortal could accomplish." When the king had gone through these reflections, he said--"I am fortunate in receiving such a command from the god, I will do what he bids me." When the king said that, Gunasarman disappeared by the help of his magic collyrium, thus confirming the king's confidence in him, and went away. And he came and told king Mahásena what he had done; he threw his arms round his neck, and hailed him as the preserver of his life and throne. And the next morning Vikramasakti sent an ambassador to Mahásena, and after making peace with him, returned home with his army. But Mahásena conquered Somaka, and having obtained elephants and horses, returned to Ujjayiní a victor, thanks to Gunasarman. And while he was there, Gunasarman saved him from a crocodile while bathing in the river, and from the poison of a snake-bite while in his garden. Then, after some days had passed, king Mahásena, having got together an army, went to attack his enemy Vikramasakti. And that king, as soon as he heard of his approach, marched out to meet him in fight, and a great battle took place between the two. And in the course of it, the two kings met in single combat, and disabled one another's chariots. Then, in their fury, they rushed forward sword in hand, and king Mahásena through carelessness stumbled and fell on the earth. Then the king Vikramasakti tried to strike him on the ground, but Gunasarman cut off his arm with a discus, sword and all, and striking him again in the heart with an iron mace laid him low. And king Mahásena rose up, and was pleased when he saw his enemy dead, and said repeatedly to Gunasarman--"What am I to say? This is the fifth time that you have saved my life, heroic Bráhman." Then Mahásena conquered the army and kingdom of Vikramasakti, who had been slain by Gunasarman, and after overcoming other kings by the aid of Gunasarman, he returned to Ujjayiní and dwelt there in happiness. But queen Asokavatí did not cease from importunately soliciting Gunasarman day and night. But he would never consent to that crime; good men prefer death to immodest conduct. Then Asokavatí, finding out that he was resolved, one day out of enmity to him affected to be unhappy, and remained with tearful countenance. Then Mahásena, coming in, and seeing her in that condition, said--"What is this, my beloved? Who has offended you? Tell me the name of the man whose life and property I am to take by way of punishment?" Then the unforgiving queen said with affected reluctance to the king, who had thus addressed her, "You have no power to punish the man who has injured me; he is not a man you can chastise, so what is the good of revealing the injury to no purpose?" When she said this, the king pressed her, and she said deceitfully--"My husband, if you are very anxious to know, listen, I will tell you. Gunasarman, who pretends to be a loyal servant, [678] made an agreement with the King of Gauda, and in order to get money from him, undertook to do you an injury. The wicked Bráhman secretly sent his confidential messenger to Gauda, to make the king hand over treasure and so on. Then a confidential servant, seeing the king despondent, said to him--'I will manage this affair for you, do not waste your wealth.' When the king of Gauda heard this, he had that messenger of Gunasarman's cast into prison, [679]---- and the cook who was to administer the poison came here, carefully keeping the secret. In the meanwhile Gunasarman's messenger escaped from prison, and came here to him. And he, knowing the whole story, revealed it all, and pointed out to Gunasarman [680] that cook, who had entered into our kitchen. Then that scoundrelly Bráhman detected the cook in the act of administering the poison, and denounced him to you, and so had him put to death. Then the mother and the wife and the younger brother of that cook came here to find out what had become of him, and the sagacious Gunasarman, finding it out, put to death his wife and mother, but his brother escaped somehow or other and entered my palace. While he was imploring my protection and telling me the whole story, Gunasarman entered my apartment. When the brother of that cook saw Gunasarman and heard his name, he went out and fled from my presence, whither I know not. Gunasarman, for his part, when he saw him who had been previously pointed out to him by his servants, was abashed and seemed to be thinking over something. And I, wanting to know what it was, said to him in private, 'Gunasarman, why do you seem to be altered to-day?' And he, being anxious to win me over to his side, as he was afraid of the matter being revealed, said to me--'Queen, I am consumed with passion for you, so consent to my wishes, otherwise I cannot live; bestow on me life as a Bráhman's fee.' When he had said this, as the room was empty, he fell at my feet. Then I drew away my foot and rose up in bewilderment, and he, rising up, embraced me, a weak woman, by force. And my maid Pallaviká came in at that very moment. The instant he saw her, he fled out alarmed. If Pallaviká had not come in, the villain would certainly have outraged me. [681] This is the injury he has done me to-day." When the queen had told this false tale, she stopped and wept. For in the beginning wicked women sprang from Lying Speech. And the moment the king heard it, he was all on fire with anger, for reliance upon the words of women destroys the discrimination even of the great. And he said to his dear wife, "Be comforted, fair one, I will certainly punish that traitor with death. But he must be slain by artifice, otherwise we might be disgraced, for it is well known that five times he has saved my life. And we must not proclaim abroad his crime of offering violence to you." When the king said this to the queen, she answered--"If that crime may not be published, may that other one of his be published, that out of friendship for the king of Gauda he attempted treason against his master?" When she said this, he answered--"You are quite right"--and so king Mahásena went to his hall of audience. Then all the kings, and princes, and barons came to visit the king. And in the meanwhile Gunasarman left his house to go to court, and on the way he saw many unfavourable omens. There was a crow on his left hand, a dog ran from the left to the right, a snake appeared on his right, and his left arm and shoulder throbbed. [682] He thought to himself, "These evil omens indicate calamity to me without doubt, so whatever happens to me, I hope no misfortune may befall the king my master." With these thoughts he entered the hall of audience, and prayed loyally that nothing untoward might befall the palace. But when he bowed and took his seat, the king did not salute him as before, but looked askance at him with an eye glowing with anger. And when Gunasarman was alarmed as to what it might mean, the king rose up from the seat of justice, and sat at his side, and said to the astonished courtiers, "Hear what Gunasarman has done to me; [683] then Gunasarman said--"I am a servant, you are my master, so how can our suit be equal, ascend your seat of judgment, and afterwards give what order you like." When the resolute man said this, the king, by the advice of the other ministers, ascended the seat of judgment, and said again to his courtiers--"You know, that I made this Gunasarman equal to myself, preferring him to my hereditary ministers. Now hear what treason he attempted to commit against me, after making an agreement with the king of Gauda by sending messengers to and fro." After saying this, the king related to them all the fictitious account of the matter which Asokavatí had given him. And the king also told to his confidential ministers, after dismissing the crowd, the lying tale of an attempt to outrage her, which she had told against Gunasarman. Then Gunasarman said--"King, who told you such a falsehood, who painted this aerial picture?" When the king heard that, he said, "Villain, if it is not true, how did you know that the poison was in the dish of rice?" When Gunasarman said--"Everything is known by wisdom," the other ministers, out of hatred to him, said, "That is impossible." Then Gunasarman said, "King, you have no right to speak thus without enquiring into the truth of the matter, and a king devoid of discrimination is not approved of by those who understand policy." When he repeated this over and over again, the king exclaimed that he was an insolent wretch, and aimed a sword-cut at him. But he avoided that blow by employing his trick of fence, and then the other followers of the king struck at him. And he eluded their swords by his artifices of fence, and baffled the exertions of them all. And he fettered them, binding them with one another's hair, shewing wonderful skill in the employment of his trick of disarming. And he made his way out by force from that hall of assembly of the king, and he killed about a hundred warriors, who pursued him. Then he put on his eyes that ointment serving to render him invisible, which he had in the corner of his garment, and immediately left that country without being seen. And he made towards the Dekhan, and as he was going along, he thus reflected on the way: "Surely that foolish king was set on by that Asokavatí. Alas! women whose love is slighted are worse than poison! Alas! kings who do not investigate the truth are not to be served by the good!" While engaged in such reflections, Gunasarman came at last to a village, there he saw a worthy Bráhman under a banyan-tree teaching his pupils. He went up to him and hailed him. And the Bráhman, after welcoming him, immediately asked him, "O Bráhman, what recension of the Vedas do you recite, tell me." Then Gunasarman answered that Bráhman,--"Bráhman, I recite twelve recensions, two of the Sámaveda, two of the Rigveda, seven of the Yajurveda, and one of the Atharvaveda." Then the Bráhman said--"You must be a god," and he went on to say to Gunasarman, whose shape revealed his excellence; "Tell me, what country and what family did you adorn by being born in them? What is your name and how did you learn so much?" When Gunasarman heard this, he said to him: Story of Ádityasarman the father of Gunasarman. In the city of Ujjayiní there was a Bráhman's son named Ádityasarman, and when he was a child, his father died, and his mother entered the fire with her husband. Then Ádityasarman grew up in that city, in his uncle's house, reading the Vedas, and the books of knowledge, and also the treatises on accomplishments. And after he had acquired knowledge, and was engaged in a vow of muttering prayers, he struck up a friendship with a certain wandering hermit. That wandering hermit went with his friend Ádityasarman, and performed a sacrifice in a cemetery to get a Yakshiní into his power. Then a heavenly maiden, beautifully adorned, appeared to him in a chariot of gold, surrounded with beautiful maidens. She said to him in a sweet voice, "Mendicant, I am a Yakshí named Vidyunmálá, and these others are Yakshinís. Take a suitable wife from my following according to your pleasure. So much have you obtained by your employment of spells; you have not discovered the perfect spell for obtaining me; so, as I am obtained by that only, do not take any further trouble to no purpose." When the Yakshí said this to him, the mendicant consented, and chose one Yakshiní from her retinue. Then Vidyunmálá disappeared, and Ádityasarman asked that Yakshiní, whom the hermit had obtained, "Is there any Yakshiní superior to Vidyunmálá?" When the Yakshiní heard that, she answered, "Yes, handsome man, there is. Vidyunmálá, Chandralekhá, and Sulochaná the third, are the best among the Yakshinís, and among these Sulochaná." After saying that, the Yakshiní departed, to return at the appointed time; and the mendicant went with Ádityasarman to his house. There the loving Yakshiní every day visited the hermit at the appointed time, and granted him all that he desired. One day Ádityasarman asked her this question by the mouth of that mendicant: "Who knows the proper spell for attracting Sulochaná?" And the Yakshiní sent him this message by the mouth of the mendicant--"There is a place called Jambuvana in the south. There is a mendicant there, named Vishnugupta, who has made his dwelling on the banks of the Vení; he is the best of Buddhist mendicants, and knows the spell at full length." When Ádityasarman learned this from the Yakshiní, he went in all eagerness to that country, followed by the mendicant out of love. There he duly searched for the Buddhist mendicant, and after he had approached him, he served him devotedly for three years, and waited upon him continually. And by the help of that Yakshiní, who was at the beck and call of the first mendicant, his friend, he provided him with heavenly luxuries, ministered seasonably. Then that Buddhist mendicant, being pleased, gave to that Ádityasarman the spell for obtaining Sulochaná, which he desired, together with the prescribed rites to accompany it. Then Ádityasarman, having obtained that spell, and having duly employed it, went into a solitary place and performed there the final sacrifice according to the prescribed ritual, leaving no ceremony out. Then the Yakshiní Sulochaná appeared to him in an air-chariot, with world-enchanting beauty, and said to him, "Come! come! I have been won by you, but you must not make me your wife for six months, great hero, if you wish to have by me a son, who will be a favourite of fortune, marked with auspicious marks, all-knowing and invincible." When she said this, Ádityasarman consented, and she took him off in her chariot to Alaká. And Ádityasarman remained there, looking at her ever near him, with his suspense and doubts at an end, and performed for six months a vow as difficult as standing on the edge of a sword. Then the god of wealth, being pleased, himself gave that Sulochaná to Ádityasarman according to a heavenly ritual. I was born as that Bráhman's son by her, and I was named Gunasarman by my father on account of my good qualities. Then in that very place I learned in succession the Vedas, the sciences, and the accomplishments, from a prince of the Yakshas named Manidara. Then, once upon a time, it happened that Indra came to the god of wealth, and all who sat there rose up when they saw him. But as Fate would have it, Ádityasarman my father was at that time thinking of something else, and did not rise up in a hurry. Then Indra, being angry, cursed him, and said--"Out, fool! go to your own world of mortals, you are out of place here." Then Sulochaná fell at his feet, and propitiated him, and Indra answered, "Then let him not go to the world of mortals himself, but let this son of his go, for one's son is said to be a second self. Let not my word have been spoken in vain." When Indra had said so much, he was satisfied. Then my father took me and deposited me in my uncle's house in Ujjayiní. For what is ordained to be a man's lot must be. There, as it happened, I struck up a friendship with the king of that place. And listen, I will tell you what happened to me there afterwards. After saying this, he described to him what happened from the very beginning, and what Asokavatí did, and what the king did, ending up with his fight. And he went on to say to him--"Bráhman, thus I have fled away to go to a foreign land, and on my way, as I was journeying along, I have seen you." When the Bráhman heard that, he said to Gunasarman--"And thus I have become fortunate by your visit, my lord. So now come to my house, and know that I am Agnidatta by name, and this village is my grant from the king; be at ease here." After saying this, Agnidatta made Gunasarman enter his splendid mansion, in which were many cows, buffaloes, and horses. There he honoured that guest with bath and unguents, and robes and ornaments, and with various kinds of food. And he shewed him his daughter, Sundarí by name, whose beauty was to be desired even by the gods, on the pretence of getting him to inspect her marks. And Gunasarman, for his part, seeing that she was unsurpassed in beauty, said "She will have rival wives. She has a mole on her nose, and consequently I assert that she must have a second one on her breast; and men say that such is the result of spots in these two localities." When he said this, her brother, by command of her father, uncovered her breast, and beheld there a mole. Then Agnidatta said in astonishment to Gunasarman, "You are all-knowing, but these moles of hers portend good fortune to us. For wives generally have many rivals when the husband is fortunate, a poor [684] man would find it difficult to support one, much more to support many." When Gunasarman heard this, he answered him--"It is as you say; how could ill fortune befall a shape with such auspicious marks?" When he had said this, Agnidatta took occasion to ask him concerning the meaning of moles and other marks; and he told him what moles and other marks portended on every single limb, both in men and women. [685] Then Sundarí, the moment she beheld Gunasarman, longed eagerly to drink him in with her eyes, as the female partridge longs to drink the moon. Then Agnidatta said in private to Gunasarman, "Illustrious one, I give you this my daughter Sundarí. Do not go to a foreign land, remain at ease in my house." When Gunasarman heard this speech of his, he said to him--"True, I should be happy enough to do so, but as I have been on a false charge scorched with the fire of the king's contempt, it does not please me. A lovely woman, the rising of the moon, and the fifth note of a lute, these delight the happy but afflict the miserable. And a wife, who falls in love of her own accord with a man, is sure to be chaste, but if she is given away by her father against her will, she will be like Asokavatí. Moreover, the city of Ujjayiní is near to this place, so the king may perhaps hear of my whereabouts and oppress me. So I will wander round to holy places, and will wash off the stains of sin contracted ever since my birth, and will abandon this body, then I shall be at rest." When he said this, Agnidatta answered him, smiling, "If even you show so much infatuation, what are we to expect from others? What annoyance can you, a man of pure character, derive from the contempt of a fool? Mud thrown at the heaven falls upon the head of the thrower. The king will soon reap the fruit of his want of discrimination, for Fortune does not long wait upon a man blind with infatuation and wanting in discrimination. Besides, if you are disgusted with women from your experience of Asokavatí, do you not feel respect for them on beholding a good woman, for you know signs? And even though Ujjayiní be near to this place where you now are, I will take steps to prevent any one's knowing that you are here. But if you desire to make a pilgrimage to sacred places, then I say--that is approved by the wise only for a man, who cannot, according to the scriptures, attain happiness by performing the actions enjoined by the Vedas; but he who can acquire merit by offerings to the gods, to the manes of deceased ancestors, and to the fire, by vows, and muttering prayers, what is the use of his wandering about on pilgrimages? A pilgrim whose pillow is his arm, who sleeps upon the ground, and lives on alms, and drinks only water, is not free from cares, even though he has attained equality with hermits. And as for your desiring to abandon the body, [686] in this also you are led astray, for in the next world suicides suffer more severe pains than here. An unbecoming fault and folly is not to be committed by one so young and wise: decide for yourself: you must certainly do what I tell you. I will have made for you here a spacious and beautiful subterranean dwelling; marry Sundarí and live at ease in it." When he was thus diligently schooled by Agnidatta, Gunasarman agreed to his proposal, and said to him, "I accept your offer, for who would abandon a wife like Sundarí? [687] But I will not marry this your daughter till I have accomplished my ends. In the meanwhile I will propitiate some god with strict asceticism, in order that I may be revenged on that ungrateful monarch." When he said this, Agnidatta gladly consented, and Gunasarman rested there in comfort during the night. And the next day Agnidatta had a secret subterranean dwelling constructed for his comfort, called Pátálavasati. [688] And while he was there, Gunasarman said in secret to Agnidatta: "Tell me, what god, granting boons to his worshippers, shall I propitiate here by performing vows, and what spell shall I use?" When the brave man said that, Agnidatta answered him, "I have a spell for propitiating the god Svámikumára, which was told me by a teacher; so with that propitiate the general of the gods, the foe of Táraka, desiring whose birth the gods, oppressed by their enemies, sent Káma to Siva, (and he, after burning him up, decreed that henceforth he should be born in the mind;) whose origin they say was various, from Siva, from the fire-cavity, from fire, from the thicket of reeds and from the Krittikás; and who, as soon as he was born, made the whole world bend by his irresistible might, and slew the unconquered Asura Táraka." Then Gunasarman said, "Tell me that spell." And Agnidatta gave Gunasarman that spell. With it Gunasarman propitiated Skanda in the subterranean dwelling, unremitting in his vow, waited upon by Sundarí. Then the six-faced god appeared to him in visible form, and said, "I am pleased with you, choose a boon,-- [689] You shall possess an inexhaustible treasury and, after conquering Mahásena, you shall, my son, advance irresistibly and rule the earth." After giving him this great boon, Skanda disappeared, and Gunasarman obtained inexhaustible treasure. Then the successful hero married, according to the prescribed rites, with splendour suited to his greatness, the daughter of the Bráhman Agnidatta, who fell more in love with him every day, like his future good fortune in affairs come to him in bodily form. And then having collected, by virtue of his surpassing accumulation of inexhaustible treasure, an army consisting of many horses, elephants and foot-soldiers, he marched to Ujjayiní, overrunning the earth with the forces of all the kings that crowded to his banner out of gratitude for his gifts. And after proclaiming there to the subjects that immodest conduct of Asokavatí, and after conquering the king Mahásena in battle, and deposing him from the throne, he obtained the dominion of the earth. And king Gunasarman married many daughters of kings, besides Sundarí, and his orders were obeyed even on the shores of the sea, and with Sundarí as his consort he long enjoyed pleasures to his heart's content. "Thus king Mahásena, in old time, suddenly incurred calamity through being unable to discriminate the characters of men, being a man of dull intellect, but the clear-headed Gunasarman, with the help of his own resolute character alone, obtained the highest prosperity." After Súryaprabha had heard this chivalrous tale at night from the mouth of his minister Vítabhíti, the royal hero, who was longing to traverse the great sea of battle, gained great confidence, and gradually dropped off to sleep. CHAPTER L. Then Súryaprabha and his ministers rose up early in the morning, and accompanied by all the troops of the Dánavas and their allies, went to the field of battle. And Srutasarman came surrounded by all the forces of the Vidyádharas; and all the gods, Asuras, and others again came to look on. Both armies adopted the crescent formation, then there took place a battle between those two armies. The swift arrows, [690] winged with feathers, clashing against one another and cutting one another in pieces, also fought. The long sword-blades issued from the mouths of the scabbards, and drinking blood, and waving to and fro, appeared like the tongues of Death. The field of battle seemed like a lake, the full-blown lotuses of which were the faces of heroes; on these the shower of discuses descended like a flight of Brahmany ducks, and so ruined the kingly swans. The combat appeared, with the severed heads of heroes flying up and down, like a game of ball, with which Death was amusing himself. When the arena of combat was cleared from the obscuring dust by the sprinkling of bloody drops, there took place on it the single combats of furious champions. There Súryaprabha fought with Srutasarman, and Prabhása fought with Dámodara, and Siddhártha fought with Mahotpáta, and Prahasta with Brahmagupta, and Vítabhí with Sangama, and Prajnádhya with Chandragupta, and Priyankara with Ákrama, and Sarvadamana fought with Atibala, and Kunjarakumáraka fought with Dhurandhara, and other great champions fought with others respectively. Then first Mahotpáta silenced the arrows of Siddhártha with his arrows, and after cleaving his bow, slew his horses and charioteer. Siddhártha, though deprived of his chariot, charged him angrily, and with a large iron mace broke in pieces his chariot and horses. Then Siddhártha fought on foot with Mahotpáta also on foot, and in a wrestling-bout hurled him to the ground. But while he was trying to crush him, that Vidyádhara was delivered by his father Bhaga, and flying up into the air left the battle-field. And Prahasta and Brahmagupta destroyed one another's chariots, and then fought with swords, shewing various arts of fence; and Prahasta cleft his foe's shield in the course of their sword-play, and with a dexterous sleight laid him low on the earth; but when he was about to cut off his head, as he lay on the ground, he was forbidden by his father Brahmá himself by a sign from a distance; then all the Dánavas laughed the gods to scorn, saying, "You gods have come to save your sons, not to behold the fray." In the meanwhile Vítabhaya, after cutting in two the bow of Sankrama, and slaying his charioteer, slew him by piercing his heart with the weapon of Káma. And Prajnádhya, fighting on foot with Chandragupta, sword to sword, after both their chariots had been destroyed, killed him by cutting off his head. Then the Moon, angry at the death of his son, himself came and fought with Prajnádhya, and the two combatants were evenly matched. And Priyankara, who had lost his chariot, fighting with Ákrama, who had also had his chariot destroyed, cut him in two with one blow of his sword. And Sarvadamana easily killed Atibala in fight, for when his bow was cleft, he threw his elephant-hook and smote him in the heart. Then Kunjarakumára in a contest, in which missiles were opposed by answering missiles, frequently deprived Dhurandhara of his chariot, and as frequently Vikramasakti brought him a chariot, and defended him in sore straits, repelling weapons with weapons; then Kunjarakumára in wrath rushed forward, and swiftly hurled a great rock on to the chariot of Vikramasakti, and, when Vikramasakti retired with broken chariot, he crushed Dhurandhara with that very stone. [691] Then Súryaprabha, while fighting with Srutasarman, being angry on account of the slaughter of Virochana, killed Dama with one arrow. Enraged at that, the two Asvins descended to the combat, but Sunítha received them with showers of arrows, and a great fight took place between him and them. And Sthirabuddhi slew Parákrama in fight with a javelin, and then fought with the eight Vasus enraged on account of his death. And Prabhása, seeing Bhása deprived of his chariot, though himself engaged in fighting with Dámodara, killed Mardana with one arrow. The Dánava Prakampana killed Tejahprabha in a missile combat, and then fought with the god of Fire enraged on account of his death. And when Dhúmraketu had slain Yamadanshtra in fight, he had a terrible combat with the enraged Yama. [692] And Sinhadanshtra, having crushed Suroshana with a stone, fought with Nirriti, [693] enraged on account of his death. Kálachakra also cut Váyubala in two with a discus, and then fought with Váyu [694] inflamed with rage thereat. And Mahámáya slew Kuveradatta, who deluded his foes by assuming the forms of a snake, a mountain, and a tree, assuming himself the forms of Garuda, of the thunderbolt, and of fire. Then Kuvera [695] himself fought with him in wrath. In the same way all the gods fought, angry on account of the slaughter of their sons. And then various other princes of the Vidyádharas were slain by various men and Dánavas, darting forward from time to time. And in the meanwhile a conflict went on between Prabhása and Dámodara, terrible from its unceasing exchange of missiles. Then Dámodara, though his bow was cleft asunder, and his charioteer slain, took another bow and fought on, holding the reins in his own hands. And when Brahmá applauded him, Indra said to him, "Revered one, why are you pleased with one who is getting the worst of it?" Then Brahmá answered him,--"How can I help being pleased with one, who fights for so long with this Prabhása? Who but Dámodara, who is a portion of Hari, would do this? For all the gods would be a scant match for Prabhása in fight. For that Asura Namuchi, who was so hard for the gods to subdue, and who was then born again as Prabala, one entire and perfect jewel, has now been born as the invincible Prabhása son of Bhása, and Bhása too was in a former birth the great Asura Kálanemi, who afterwards became Hiranyakasipu and then Kapinjala. And Súryaprabha is the Asura who was called Sumundíka. And the Asura who was before called Hiranyáksha is now this Sunítha. And as for Prahasta and others, they are all Daityas and Dánavas; and since the Asuras slain by you have been born again in these forms, the other Asuras, Maya and others, have espoused their cause. And see, Bali has come here to look on, for his bonds have been broken by virtue of the great sacrifice to Siva, duly performed by Súryaprabha and the others, but keeping his promise faithfully, he remains content with the realm of Pátála until your allotted period of rule is at an end, and then he will be Indra. These are now favoured by Siva, so it is not now a time of victory for you, make peace with your foes." While Brahmá was saying this to the king of the gods, Prabhása sent forth the great weapon of Siva. When Vishnu saw that terrible all-destroying weapon let loose, he also sent forth, out of regard for his son, his discus called Sudarsana. Then there took place between those divine weapons, which had assumed visible shapes, a struggle which made the three worlds dread a sudden destruction of all creatures. Then Hari said to Prabhása--"Recall your weapon and I will recall mine," and Prabhása answered him,--"My weapon cannot be launched in vain, so let Dámodara turn his back, and retire from the fight, and then I will recall my weapon." When Prabhása said that, Vishnu answered--"Then do you also honour my discus, let not either of these weapons be fruitless." When Vishnu said this, Prabhása who possessed tact, said "So be it, let this discus of thine destroy my chariot." Vishnu agreed, and made Dámodara retire from the fight, and Prabhása withdrew his weapon, and the discus fell on his chariot. Then he mounted another chariot and went to Súryaprabha, and then Dámodara, for his part, repaired to Srutasarman. And then the single combat between Srutasarman, who was puffed up by being a son of Indra, and Súryaprabha, became exceedingly fierce. Whatever weapon Srutasarman vigorously employed, Súryaprabha immediately repelled with opposing weapons. And whatever delusion Srutasarman employed, was overmastered by Súryaprabha with opposing delusion. Then Srutasarman in fierce wrath sent forth the weapon of Brahmá, and the mighty Súryaprabha let loose the weapon of Siva. That mighty weapon of Siva repelled the weapon of Brahmá, and being irresistible, was overpowering Srutasarman, when Indra and the other Lokapálas, being indignant, sent forth their tremendous weapons beginning with thunderbolts. But the weapon of Siva conquered all those weapons, and blazed exceedingly, eager to slay Srutasarman. Then Súryaprabha praised that great weapon, and entreated it not to kill Srutasarman, but to take him prisoner and hand him over to himself. Then all the gods speedily prepared for fight, and the other Asuras also, who had come to look on, did the same, being eager to conquer the gods. Then a Gana named Vírabhadra, sent by Siva, came and delivered this order of his to Indra and the other gods: "You came to look on, so what right have you to fight here? Moreover, your overstepping the bounds of propriety will produce other bad results." When the gods heard that, they said--"All of us have sons here that have been slain, or are being slain, so how can we help fighting? [696] Love for one's offspring is a feeling hard to lay aside, so we must certainly revenge ourselves on their slayers to the utmost of our power; what impropriety is there in this?" When the gods said this, Vírabhadra departed, and a great fight took place between the gods and the Asuras: Sunítha fought with the two Asvins, and Prajnádhya fought with the Moon, and Sthirabuddhi with the Vasus, and Kálachakra with Váyu, and Prakampana with Agni, and Sinhadanshtra with Nirriti, and Pramathana with Varuna, and Dhúmraketu with Yama, and then Mahámáya fought with the god of wealth, and other Asuras [697] at the same time fought with other gods, with missiles and opposing missiles. And finally, whatever mighty weapon any god sent forth, Siva immediately destroyed with an angry roar. But the god of wealth, when his club was uplifted, was restrained by Siva in a conciliatory manner, while various other gods, their weapons having been broken, fled from the field of battle. Then Indra himself, in wrath, attacked Súryaprabha, and let fly a storm of arrows at him and various other weapons. And Súryaprabha repelled those weapons with ease, and kept striking Indra with hundreds of arrows drawn back to the ear. Then the king of the gods, enraged, seized his thunderbolt, and Siva made an angry noise and destroyed that thunderbolt. Then Indra turned his back and fled, and Náráyana himself, in wrath, attacked Prabhása with sharp-edged [698] arrows. And he fearlessly fought with him, opposing those and other missiles with his own missiles, and when his horses were slain, and he was deprived of his chariot, he ascended another, and still fought with that enemy of the Daityas on equal terms. Then the god enraged sent forth his flaming discus. And Prabhása sent forth a heavenly sword, after consecrating it with magic formulas. While those two weapons were contending, Siva, seeing that the sword was gradually being overpowered by the discus, made an angry roar. That caused the discus and sword to be both destroyed. Then the Asuras rejoiced, and the gods were cast down, as Súryaprabha had obtained the victory, and Srutasarman was taken prisoner. Then the gods praised and propitiated Siva, and the husband of Ambiká, being pleased, gave this command to the gods--"Ask any boon but that promised to Súryaprabha; who can set aside what has been once promised at a burnt-sacrifice?" The gods said--"But, Lord, let that also which we promised to Srutasarman be fulfilled, and let not our sons perish." Then they ceased, and the Holy Lord thus commanded them, "When peace is made, let that be so, and this is the condition of peace;----let Srutasarman with all his retinue do homage to Súryaprabha. Then we will issue a decree which shall be for the weal of both." The gods acquiesced in this decision of Siva's, and made Srutasarman do homage to Súryaprabha. Then they renounced their enmity and embraced one another, and the gods and Asuras also laid aside their enmity and made peace with one another. Then, in the hearing of the gods and Asuras, the holy Siva said this to Súryaprabha: "You must rule yourself in the southern half-vedi, but the northern half-vedi give to Srutasarman. For you are destined, my son, soon to receive the fourfold sovereignty of all the sky-goers, Kinnaras and all. And when you receive this, as you will be in a distinguished position, you must also give the southern half-vedi to Sríkunjarakumára." And as for the heroes slain on both sides in the battle, let them all rise up alive with unwounded limbs. After saying this, Siva disappeared, and all those heroes, who were slain in that battle, rose up unwounded, as if they had awaked from sleep. Then Súryaprabha, the tamer of his foes, intent on observing the command of Siva, went to a remote extensive plain, and sitting in full court, himself made Srutasarman, who came to him, sit down on half of his throne. And his companions, headed by Prabhása, and Srutasarman's companions, headed by Dámodara, sat at the side of the two princes. And Sunítha and Maya, and the other Dánavas, and the kings of the Vidyádharas too sat on seats in order of precedence. Then the Daityas, who were kings of the seven Pátálas, headed by Prahláda, and the kings of the Dánavas came there out of joy. And Indra came with the Lokapálas, preceded by Vrihaspati, and the Vidyádhara Sumeru with Suvásakumára. And all the wives of Kasyapa came, headed by Danu, and the wives of Súryaprabha in the chariot Bhútásana. When they had all sat down, after shewing one another affection, and going through the prescribed courtesies, a friend of Danu's, named Siddhi, spoke to them as from her: "O gods and Asuras, the goddess Danu says this to you--'Say, if you have ever felt before the joy and satisfaction which we all feel in this friendly meeting! so you ought not to wage against one another war, which is terrible on account of the sorrow it produces. Hiranyáksha and those other elder Asuras, who waged it to obtain the empire of heaven, have passed away, and Indra is now the eldest, so what cause is there for enmity? "'So let your mutual antagonism drop, and be happy, in order that I may be pleased, and the prosperity of the worlds may be ensured.'" When they had heard this address of the revered Danu, uttered by the mouth of Siddhi, Vrihaspati, Indra having looked him in the face, said to her--"The gods entertain no design against the Asuras, and are willing to be friends with them, unless they display a treacherous animosity against the gods." When the preceptor of the gods said this, Maya the king of the Dánavas said--"If the Asuras entertained any animosity, how could Namuchi have given to Indra the horse Uchchhaihsravas that resuscitates the dead? And how could Prabala have given his own body to the gods? And how could Bali have given the three worlds to Vishnu, and himself have gone to prison? Or how could Ayodeha have given his own body to Visvakarman? What more shall I say? The Asuras are ever generous, and if they are not treacherously injured, they cherish no animosity." When the Asura Maya had said this, Siddhi made a speech, which induced the gods and Asuras to make peace and embrace one another. In the meanwhile a female warder, named Jayá, sent by Bhavání, came there and was honoured by all, and she said to Sumeru, "I am sent by the goddess Durgá to you, and she gives you this order--'You have an unmarried daughter named Kámachúdámani; give her quickly to Súryaprabha, for she is a votary of mine.'" When Jayá said this to Sumeru, he bowed, and answered her--"I will do as the goddess Durgá commands me, for this is a great favour to me, and this very thing was long ago enjoined on me by the god Siva." When Sumeru answered Jayá on this wise, she said to Súryaprabha--"You must set Kámachúdámani above all your wives, and she must be respected by you more than all the others; this is the order given to you to-day by the goddess Gaurí, being propitious to you." When Jayá had said this, she disappeared, after having been honoured by Súryaprabha. And Sumeru quickly fixed upon an auspicious moment in that same day for the marriage, and he had an altar made there, with pillars and pavement of refulgent jewels, furnished with fire that seemed, as it were, eclipsed by their rays. And he summoned there his daughter Kámachúdámani, whose beauty was greedily drunk in by the eager eyes of gods and Asuras. Her loveliness was like that of Umá, and no wonder, for if Párvatí was the daughter of Himálaya, she was the daughter of Sumeru. Then he made her ascend the altar, fully adorned, resplendent from the ceremony of the marriage-thread, and then Súryaprabha took the lotus-hand of Kámachúdámani, on which bracelets had been fastened by Danu, and the other ladies. And when the first handful of parched grain [699] was thrown into the fire, Jayá immediately came and gave her an imperishable celestial garland sent by Bhavání, and then Sumeru bestowed priceless jewels, and an excellent elephant of heavenly breed, descended from Airávata. And at the second throwing of parched grain, Jayá, bestowed a necklace, of such a kind that, as long as it is upon a person's neck, hunger, thirst and death cannot harm them; and Sumeru gave twice as many jewels as before, and a matchless horse descended from Uchchhaihsravas. And at the third throwing of grain, Jayá gave a single string of jewels, such that, as long as it is on the neck, youth does not wither, and Sumeru gave a heap of jewels three times as large as the first, and gave a heavenly pearl that bestowed all kinds of magic powers upon its possessor. Then the wedding being over, Sumeru said to all present; "Gods, Asuras, Vidyádharas, mothers of the gods, and all. To-day all of you must eat in my house, you must do me this honour, I entreat you with palms folded above my head." They all were inclined to refuse Sumeru's invitation, but in the meanwhile Nandin arrived; he said to them, who bowed humbly before him, "Siva commands you to feast in the house of Sumeru, for he is the god's servant, and if you eat his food, you will be satisfied for ever." All of them, when they heard this from Nandin, agreed to it. Then there came there innumerable Ganas sent by Siva, under the leadership of Vináyaka, Mahákála, Vírabhadra and others. They prepared a place fit for dining, and caused the guests to sit down in order, gods, Vidyádharas and men. And the divine beings Vírabhadra, Mahákála, Bhringin and others, ministered to them viands produced by Sumeru by magic, and others supplied by the cow Kámadhenu ordered to do so by Siva, and they waited upon every single guest according to his rank, and then there was a concert, charming on account of the dancing of heavenly nymphs, and in which the bards of the Vidyádharas kept continually joining out of delight. And at the end of the feast, Nandin and the others gave them all celestial garlands, robes, and ornaments. After they had thus honoured the gods and others, all the chiefs of the Ganas, Nandin and the others, departed with all the Ganas as they had come. Then all the gods and Asuras, and those mothers of theirs, and Srutasarman and his followers took leave of Sumeru, and went each to his own place. But Súryaprabha and his wife, accompanied by all his former wives, went in the chariot first to that ascetic grove of Sumeru. And he sent his companion Harsha to announce his success to the kings and to his brother Ratnaprabha. And at the close of day he entered the private apartments of his wife Kámachúdámani, in which were splendid jewelled couches, and which were admirably built. There he flattered her by saying to her, "Now other women dwell outside of me, but you alone live in my heart." Then the night and his sleep gradually came to an end. And in the morning Súryaprabha got up, and went and paid compliments to his head-wives, who were all together. And while they were rejecting him, as being in love with a new wife, with playfully sarcastic, sweet, affectionate, and bashful turns of speech, a Vidyádhara named Sushena came, announced by the warder, and after doing homage, said to that triumphant king--"Your highness, I have been sent here by all the princes of the Vidyádharas, the lord of Trikúta and others, and they make this representation to your highness--'It is auspicious that your coronation should take place on the third day at the mountain Rishabha, let this be announced to all, and let the necessary preparations be made.'" When Súryaprabha heard that, he answered the ambassador--"Go, and say to the king of Trikúta and the other Vidyádharas from me--'Let your honours begin the preparations, and say yourselves what further is to be done; I for my part am ready. But I will announce the day to all, as is fitting.'" Then Sushena departed, taking with him this answer. But Súryaprabha sent off his friends Prabhása and the others, one by one, to invite all the gods, and the hermits, Yájnavalkya and others, and the kings, and the Vidyádharas, and the Asuras to the great festival of his coronation. He himself went alone to Kailása the monarch of mountains, in order to invite Siva and Ambiká. And as he was ascending that mountain, he saw that it gleamed white as ashes, looking like a second Siva to be adored by the Siddhas, Rishis, and gods. After he had got more than half-way up it, and had seen that further on it was hard to climb, he beheld on one side a coral door. When he found that, though gifted with supernatural power, he could not enter, he praised Siva with intent mind. Then a man with an elephant's face opened the door, and said--"Come! enter! the holy Ganesa is satisfied with you." Then Súryaprabha entered, inly wondering, and beheld the god seated on a broad slab of jyotírasa, [700] with one tusk, and an elephant's proboscis, in brightness like twelve suns, with pendent stomach, with three eyes, with flaming axe and club, surrounded by many Ganas with the faces of animals, and falling at his feet, he adored him. The vanquisher of obstacles, being pleased, asked him the cause of his coming, and said to him with an affectionate voice--"Ascend by this path." Súryaprabha ascended by that path another five yojanas, and saw another great door of ruby. And not being able to enter there either, he praised the god Siva by his thousand names with intent mind. Then the son of Skanda, called Visákha, himself opened the door, proclaiming who he was, and introduced the prince into the interior. And Súryaprabha, having entered, beheld Skanda of the brightness of burning fire, accompanied by his five sons like himself, Sákha, Visákha and their brothers, surrounded by inauspicious planets, and infant planets, [701] that submitted to him as soon as he was born, and by ten millions of Ganesas, prostrate at his feet. That god Kártikeya also, being pleased, asked the cause of his coming, and shewed him the path by which to ascend the mountain. In the same manner he passed five other jewel-doors in succession, kept by Bhairava, Mahákála, Vírabhadra, Nandin, and Bhringin severally, each with his attendants, and at last he reached on the top of the mountain an eighth door of crystal. Then he praised Siva, and he was introduced courteously by one of the Rudras, and beheld that abode of Siva that excelled Svarga, in which blew winds of heavenly fragrance, in which the trees ever bore fruit and flowers, [702] in which the Gandharvas had begun their concert, which was all joyous with the dancing of Apsarases. Then, in one part of it, Súryaprabha beheld with joy the great god Siva, seated on a throne of crystal, three-eyed, trident in hand, in hue like unto pure crystal, with yellow matted locks, with a lovely half-moon for crest, adored by the holy daughter of the mountain, who was seated at his side. And he advanced, and fell at the feet of him and the goddess Durgá. Then the adorable Hara placed his hand on his back, and made him rise up, and sit down, and asked him why he had come. And Súryaprabha answered the god, "My coronation is nigh at hand, therefore I desire the Lord's presence at it." Then Siva said to him, "Why have you gone through so much toil and hardship? Why did you not think of me where you were, in order that I might appear there. Be it so, I will be present." The god, who is kind to his votaries, said this, and calling a certain Gana who stood near him, gave him the following command: "Go and take this man to the Rishabha mountain, in order that he may be crowned emperor, for that is the place appointed for the grand coronation of emperors such as he is." When the Gana had received this command from the holy god, he took in his lap with all respect Súryaprabha, who had circumambulated Siva. And he carried him and placed him on the Rishabha mountain by his magic power that very moment, and then disappeared. And when Súryaprabha arrived there, his companions came to him, and his wives with Kámachúdámani at their head, and the kings of the Vidyádharas, and the gods with Indra, and the Asuras with Maya at their head, and Srutasarman, and Sumeru with Suvásakumára. And Súryaprabha honoured them all in becoming fashion, and when he told the story of his interview with Siva, they congratulated him. Then Prabhása and the others brought the water of consecration with their own hands, mixed with various herbs, in pitchers of jewels and gold, taking it from male and female rivers, seas and holy bathing places. In the meanwhile the holy Siva came there, accompanied by Durgá; and the gods, and Asuras and Vidyádharas, and kings, and great rishis adored his foot. And while all the gods, and Dánavas, and Vidyádharas uttered loud cries of "Blessed be this day," the rishis made Súryaprabha sit on the throne, and pouring all the waters over him, declared him emperor of the Vidyádharas. And the discreet Asura Maya joyfully fastened on his turban and diadem. And the drum of the gods, preceded by the dancing of lovely Apsarases, sounded joyfully in heaven, in unison with the cymbals of earth. And that assembly of great rishis poured the water of consecration over Kámachúdámani also, and made her the appropriate queen consort of Súryaprabha. Then, the gods and Asuras having departed, Súryaprabha, the emperor of the Vidyádharas, protracted his great coronation feast with his relations, friends, and companions. And in a few days he gave to Srutasarman that northern half vedi mentioned by Siva, and having obtained his other beloved ones, he enjoyed for a long time, together with his companions, the fortune of king of the Vidyádharas. "Thus by virtue of the favour of Siva, Súryaprabha, though a man, obtained of yore the empire of the Vidyádharas." Having told this story in the presence of the king of Vatsa, and having bowed before Naraváhanadatta, Vajraprabha, the king of the Vidyádharas, ascended to heaven. And after he had gone, that hero, king Naraváhanadatta, together with his queen Madanamanchuká, remained in the house of his father the king of Vatsa, waiting to obtain the rank of emperor of the Vidyádharas. BOOK IX. CHAPTER LI. We bow before that Ganesa before whom, when dancing, even the mountains seem to bow, for they are made to stoop, owing to the earth being bent by the weight of Nisumbha. Thus Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, dwelt in Kausámbí in the palace of his father, having heard with astonishment of the reign of the king of the Vidyádharas. And once on a time, having gone out hunting, he dismissed his army, and entered a great forest, with Gomukha as his only companion. There the throbbing of his right eye indicated the approach of good fortune, and he soon heard the sound of singing mixed with the notes of a heavenly lyre. After going a short distance to find whence the sound proceeded, he beheld a Svayambhú [703] temple of Siva, and after tying up his horse, he entered it. And there he beheld a heavenly maiden, surrounded by many other lovely maidens, praising Siva with the harp. As soon as he saw her, with the effluent streams of her loveliness she disturbed his heart, as the orb of the moon disturbs the heart of the sea. She too looked on him with impassioned, loving, and bashful eye, and had her mind solely fixed on him, and forgot to pour forth her notes. Then Gomukha, who read his master's soul, began to ask her attendants--"Who is she, and whose daughter is she?" But in the meanwhile a Vidyádharí of mature age, resembling her in feature, descended from heaven, preceded by a gleam red as gold. And she came down, and sat by the side of that maiden, and then the maiden rose up, and fell at her feet. And that mature dame blessed that girl, saying, "Obtain without impediment a husband, who shall be king of all the Vidyádharas." Then Naraváhanadatta came to that gentle-looking Vidyádharí, and bowed before her, and after she had given him her blessing, he slowly said to her: "Who is this maiden of thine, mother, tell me?" then that Vidyádharí said to him "Listen, I will tell you." Story of Alankáravatí. There is on the mountain-heights of the father of Gaurí, [704] a city named Srísundarapura, and in it there dwells a king of the Vidyádharas, named Alankárasíla. That lofty-souled king had a wife named Kánchanaprabhá, and in course of time a son was born to the king by her. And, when Umá announced to his father in a dream that he should be devoted to religion, he named him Dharmasíla. And in course of time that son Dharmasíla grew up to be a young man, and the king, having had him taught the sciences, appointed him Crown-prince. Then Dharmasíla, when appointed Crown-prince, being exclusively devoted to virtue, and self-controlled, delighted the subjects even more than did his father. Then the queen Kánchanaprabhá, the consort of king Alankárasíla, became pregnant again, and gave birth to a daughter. Then a heavenly voice proclaimed, "This daughter shall be the wife of the emperor Naraváhanadatta." Then her father gave her the name of Alankáravatí, and the girl gradually grew like a digit of the moon. And in course of time she attained mature youth, and learned the sciences from her own father, and through devotion to the god Siva, began to roam from temple to temple of his. In the meanwhile that brother of hers, Dharmasíla, who was saintly, though in the bloom of youth, said in secret to his father Alankárasíla--"My father, these enjoyments, that vanish in a moment, do not please me; for what is there in this world which is not distasteful at the last? Have you not heard on this point the saying of the hermit Vyása? 'All aggregations end in dissolution, all erections end in a fall, all unions end in separation, and life ends in death.' So what pleasure can wise men take in these perishable objects? Moreover, neither enjoyments nor heaps of wealth accompany one into the other world, but virtue is the only friend that never moves a step from one's side. Therefore I will go to the forest, and perform a severe penance, in order by it to attain everlasting supreme felicity." When the king's son Dharmasíla said this, his father Alankárasíla was perturbed, and answered him with tears in his eyes; "My son, what is this sudden delusion that has overtaken you while still a boy? For good men desire a life of retirement after they have enjoyed their youth. This is the time for you to marry a wife, and rule your kingdom justly, and enjoy pleasures, not to abandon the world." When Dharmasíla heard this speech of his father's, he answered: "There is no period for self-control or absence of self-control fixed by age; any one, even when a child, attains self-control, if favoured by the Lord, but no bad man attains self-control even when old. And I take no pleasure in reigning, nor in marrying a wife; the object of my life is to propitiate Siva by austerities." When the prince said this, his father Alankárasíla, seeing that he could not be turned from his purpose even by the greatest efforts, shed tears, and said; "If you, who are young, my son, display such freedom from passion, why should not I, who am an old man? I too will go to the forest." He said this, and went to the world of men, and bestowed on Bráhmans and the poor a myriad loads of gold and jewels. And returning to his city, he said to his wife Kánchanaprabhá: "You must, if you wish to obey my commands, remain here in your own city, and take care of this daughter of ours, Alankáravatí, and when a year has past, there will be on this very day an auspicious moment for her marriage. And then I will give her in marriage to Naraváhanadatta, and that son-in-law of mine shall be an emperor, and shall come to this city of ours." Having said this to his wife, the king made her take an oath, and then made her return weeping with her daughter, and himself went with his son to the forest. But his wife Kánchanaprabhá lived in her own city with her daughter; what virtuous wife would disobey her husband's commands? Then her daughter Alankáravatí wandered about to many temples together with her mother, who accompanied her out of affection. And one day the science named Prajnapti said to her, "Go to the holy places in Kasmíra named Svayambhú, and there offer worship, for then you will obtain without difficulty for a husband, Naraváhanadatta, the sole emperor of all the Vidyádhara kings." After hearing this from the science, she went with her mother to Kasmíra and worshipped Siva in all the holy places, in Nandikshetra, in Mahádevagiri, in Amaraparvata, in the mountains of Suresvarí, and in Vijaya, and Kapatesvara. After worshipping the husband of Párvatí in these and other holy places, that princess of the Vidyádharas and her mother returned home. Know, auspicious youth, that this is that very maiden Alankáravatí, and that I am her mother Kánchanaprabhá. And to-day she came to this temple of Siva without telling me. Then I, perceiving it by the Prajnapti science, came here, and I was told by the same science that you had come here also. So marry this daughter of mine who has been ordained your wife by the god. And to-morrow arrives the day of her marriage appointed by her father, so return for this day, my son, to Kausámbí your own city. And we will go hence, but to-morrow the king Alankárasíla will come from the grove of asceticism, and himself give you this daughter of his. When she said this, Alankáravatí and Naraváhanadatta were thrown into a strange state of distraction, for their eyes were full of tears, since their hearts could not bear that they should be separated from one another even for a night, and they were like chakravákas when the end of the day is near. When Kánchanaprabhá saw them in such a state, she said: "Why do you show such a want of self-restraint because you are to be separated for one night. People, who possess firmness, endure for a long time mutual separation to which no termination is assigned; hear in proof of this the tale of Rámabhadra and Sítá." Story of Ráma and Sítá. Long ago king Dasaratha, the sovereign of Ayodhyá, had a son, named Ráma, the elder brother of Bharata, Satrughna and Lakshmana. He was a partial incarnation of Vishnu for the overthrow of Rávana, and he had a wife named Sítá, the daughter of Janaka, the lady of his life. As fate would have it, his father handed over the kingdom to Bharata, and sent Ráma to the forest with Sítá and Lakshmana. There Rávana carried off his beloved Sítá by magic, and took her to the city of Lanká, having slain Jatáyus on the way. Then Ráma, in his bereaved state, made Sugríva his friend by killing Bálin, and by sending Hanumán to Lanká, obtained news of his wife. And he crossed the sea by building a bridge over it, and slew Rávana, and gave the sovereignty of Lanká to Vibhíshana and recovered Sítá. Then he returned from the forest, and while he was ruling his kingdom, that Bharata had made over to him, Sítá became pregnant in Ayodhyá. And while the king was roaming through the city at leisure, with a small retinue, to observe the actions of his subjects, he beheld a certain man turning his wife, whom he held by the hand, out of his house, and giving out that her fault was going to the house of another man. [705] And king Ráma heard the wife saying to her husband,--"King Ráma did not desert his wife, though she dwelt in the house of the Rákshasa; this fellow is superior to him, for he abandons me for going to the house of a relation." So he went home afflicted; and afraid of the slander of the people, he abandoned Sítá in the forest; a man of reputation prefers the sorrow of separation to ill-repute. And Sítá, languid with pregnancy, happened to reach the hermitage of Válmíki, and that rishi comforted her, and made her take up her abode there. And the other hermits there debated among themselves; "Surely this Sítá is guilty, otherwise how could her husband have deserted her? So, by beholding her, everlasting pollution will attach to us; but Válmíki does not expel her from the hermitage out of pity, and he neutralizes by means of his asceticism the pollution produced by beholding her, so come, let us go to some other hermitage." When Válmíki perceived that, he said; "Bráhmans, you need not have any misgivings about the matter, I have perceived her by my meditation to be chaste. When even then they exhibited incredulity, Sítá said to them; "Reverend sirs, test my purity by any means that you know of, and if I turn out to be unchaste, let me be punished by having my head cut off." When the hermits heard that, they experienced an emotion of pity, and they said to her, "There is a famous bathing-place in this forest, called Títhibhasaras, for a certain chaste woman named Títhibhí, being falsely accused by her husband, who suspected her of familiarity with another man, in her helplessness invoked the goddess Earth and the Lokapálas, and they produced it for her justification. There let the wife of Ráma clear herself for our satisfaction." When they said that, Sítá went with them to that lake. And the chaste woman said--"Mother Earth, if my mind was never fixed even in a dream on any one besides my husband, may I reach the other side of the lake,"--and after saying this, she entered the lake, and the goddess Earth appeared, and, taking her in her lap, carried her to the other side. Then all the hermits adored that chaste woman, and enraged at Ráma's having abandoned her, they desired to curse him. But Sítá, who was devoted to her husband, dissuaded them, saying,--"Do not entertain an inauspicious thought against my husband, I beg you to curse my wicked self." The hermits, pleased with that conduct of hers, gave her a blessing which enabled her to give birth to a son, and she, while dwelling there, in good time did give birth to a son, and the hermit Válmíki gave him the name of Lava. [706] One day she took the child and went to bathe, and the hermit, seeing that it was not in the hut, thought--"She is in the habit, when she goes to bathe, of leaving her child behind her, so what has become of the child? Surely it has been carried off by a wild beast. I will create another, otherwise Sítá, on returning from bathing, will die of grief." Under this impression, the hermit made a pure babe of kusa grass, resembling Lava, and placed him there, and Sítá came, and seeing it, said to the hermit, "I have my own boy, so whence came this one, hermit?" When the hermit Válmíki heard this, he told her exactly what had taken place, and said, "Blameless one, receive this second son named Kusa, because I by my power created him out of kusa grass." When he said this to her, Sítá brought up those two sons Kusa and Lava, for whom Válmíki performed the sacraments. And those two young princes of the Kshatriya race, even when children, learned the use of all heavenly weapons, and all sciences from the hermit Válmíki. And one day they killed a deer belonging to the hermitage, and ate its flesh, and made use of a linga, which Válmíki worshipped, as a plaything. The hermit was offended thereby, but at Sítá's intercession he appointed for those youths the following expiatory penance: "Let this Lava go quickly and bring from the lake of Kuvera golden lotuses, and mandára [707] flowers from his garden, then worship, both of you brothers, this linga with those flowers; in this way this crime of those two will be atoned for." When Lava heard this, he went, though a boy, to Kailása, and invaded that lake and garden of Kuvera, and after killing the Yakshas, brought back the lotuses and the flowers, and as he was returning, being tired, he rested in the way under a tree. And in the meanwhile Lakshmana came that way, seeking a man with auspicious marks for Ráma's human sacrifice. [708] He, according to the custom of Kshatriyas, challenged Lava to fight, and paralyzed him by the stupefying weapon, and taking him prisoner, led him to the city of Ayodhyá. And in the meanwhile Válmíki comforted Sítá, who was anxious about the return of Lava, and said to Kusa in his hermitage, "Lakshmana has taken prisoner the child Lava and has carried him off to Ayodhyá; go and deliver him from Lakshmana, after conquering him with these weapons." When the sage said this, and gave to Kusa a heavenly weapon, he went and with it attacked and besieged the sacrificial enclosure in Ayodhyá, and he conquered in fight Lakshmana, who advanced to repel him, by the help of those heavenly weapons; then Ráma advanced to meet him; and when he could not, though exerting himself to the utmost, conquer with weapons that Kusa, owing to the might of Válmíki, he asked him who he was, and why he came. Then Kusa said, "Lakshmana has taken my elder brother prisoner and brought him here; I have come here to set him at liberty. We two are Kusa and Lava the sons of Ráma, this is what our mother, the daughter of Janaka, says." Thereupon he told her story. Then Ráma burst into tears, and summoned Lava and embraced both, saying, "I am that same wicked Ráma." Then the citizens assembled and praised Sítá, beholding those two heroic youths, and Ráma recognised them as his sons. And then he summoned the queen Sítá from the hermitage of Válmíki, and dwelt with her in happiness, transferring to his sons the burden of the empire. "Thus heroic souls endure separation for so long a time, and how can you find it difficult to endure it for only one night?" When Kánchanaprabhá had said this to her daughter Alankáravatí, who was eager to be married, and to Naraváhanadatta, she departed through the air with the intention of returning again, and took her daughter with her: and Naraváhanadatta, for his part, returned despondent to Kausámbí. Then, as he could not sleep at night, Gomukha said to him to amuse him--"Prince, hear this story of Prithvírúpa, which I will relate to you." Story of the handsome king Prithvírúpa. There is in the Dekhan a city named Pratishthána, in it lived a very handsome king, named Prithvírúpa. Once on a time two discerning Buddhist hermits came to him, and seeing that that king was very handsome, they said to him, "King, we have travelled through the world, and we have nowhere seen a man or woman equal to you in beauty, except the daughter of king Rúpadhara and queen Hemalatá, in the isle of Muktipura, Rúpalatá by name, and that maiden alone is a match for you, and you alone are a match for her; if you were to be united in marriage, it would be well." With these words of the hermit, which entered by his ears, the arrows of Love entered also and stuck in his heart. Then king Prithvírúpa, being full of longing, gave this order to his admirable painter, Kumáridatta by name; "Take with you my portrait, accurately painted on canvas, and with these two mendicants go to the isle of Muktipura, and there shew it by some artifice to the king Rúpadhara and his daughter Rúpalatá. Find out if that king will give me his daughter or not, and take a likeness of Rúpalatá, and bring it back." When the king had said this, he made the painter take his likeness on canvas, and sent him with the mendicants to that island. And so the painter and the mendicants set out, and in course of time reached a city named Putrapura on the shore of the sea. There they embarked on a ship, and going across the sea, they reached in five days that island of Muktipura. There the painter went and held up at the gate of the palace a notice, to the effect that there was no painter like him in the world. When the king Rúpadhara heard of that, he summoned him, and the painter entered the palace, and bowing, he said: "O king, though I have travelled all over the earth, I have never seen my match as a painter, so tell me, whom I am to paint of gods, mortals, and Asuras." When the king heard that, he summoned his daughter Rúpalatá into his presence, and gave him the following order: "Make a portrait of this daughter of mine, and shew it me." Then the painter Kumáridatta made a portrait of the princess on canvas and shewed it, and it was exactly like the original. Then king Rúpadhara was pleased, and thinking him clever, he asked that painter, in his desire to obtain a son-in-law, "My good fellow, you have travelled over the earth: so tell me if you have anywhere seen a woman or a man equal to my daughter in beauty." When the king said this, the painter answered him, "I have nowhere in the world seen a woman or a man equal to her, except a king in Pratishthána, named Prithvírúpa, who is a match for her; if she were married to him, it would be well. Since he has not found a princess equal in beauty, he remains, though in his fresh youth, without a wife. And I, your majesty, having beheld that king, dear to the eyes, took a faithful likeness of him, out of admiration of his beauty." When the king heard that, he said: "Have you that portrait with you?" And the painter said, "I have," and showed the portrait. Thereupon the king Rúpadhara, beholding the beauty of that king Prithvírúpa, found his head whirl round with astonishment. And he said, "Fortunate are we to have beheld that king even in a picture; I felicitate those who behold him in the flesh. When Rúpalatá heard this speech of her father's, and saw the king in the picture, she was full of longing, and could neither hear nor see anything else. Then the king Rúpadhara, seeing that his daughter was distracted with love, said to that painter Kumáridatta, "Your pictures exactly correspond to the original, so that king Prithvírúpa must be an appropriate husband for my daughter. So take this portrait of my daughter, and set off immediately, and shew my daughter to king Prithvírúpa; and tell the whole incident as it took place, and if he pleases, let him come here quickly, to marry her." Thus the king spake, and honoured the painter with gifts, and sent him off with his ambassador, in the company of the mendicants. The painter, the ambassador, and the mendicants crossed the sea, and all reached the court of Prithvírúpa in Pratishthána. There they gave the present to that king, and told him the whole transaction, as it took place, and the message of Rúpadhara. And then that painter Kumáridatta shewed to that king his beloved Rúpalatá in a painting. As the king gazed, [709] his eye was drowned in that sea of beauty her person, so that he could not draw it out again. For the king, whose longing was excessive, could not be satisfied with devouring her form, which poured forth a stream of the nectar of beauty, as the partridge cannot be satisfied with devouring the moonlight. And he said to the painter, "My friend, worthy of praise is the Creator who made this beauty, and yourself who copied it. So I accept the proposal of king Rúpadhara; I will go to the island of Muktipura and marry his daughter." After saying this, the king honoured the painter, the ambassador, and the hermits, and remained looking at the picture. And afflicted with the sorrow of absence, the king spent that day in gardens and other places, and set out the next day on his expedition, after ascertaining a favourable moment. And the king mounted the great elephant Mangalaghata, and proceeded on his way with many horses and elephants, with chiefs and Rájpúts, and with the painter and the hermits, together with the ambassador of Rúpadhara, and in a few days he reached the entrance of the Vindhya forest, and encamped there in the evening. The next day, the king Prithvírúpa mounted an elephant named Satrumardana, and going on entered that forest. And as he was slowly proceeding, he beheld his army, which was marching in front of him, suddenly fleeing. And while he was perplexed as to what it could mean, a Rájpút named Nirbhaya, mounted on an elephant, came up and said to him, "King, a very large army of Bhillas attacked us in front there; in the fight that ensued those Bhillas slew with their arrows just fifty of our elephants, and a thousand of our footmen, and three hundred horses; but our troops laid low two thousand Bhillas, so that for every single corpse seen in our host two were seen in theirs. Then our forces were routed, galled with their arrows, which resemble thunderbolts." When the king heard that, he was angry, and advancing he slew the army of the Bhillas, as Arjuna slew that of the Kauravas. Then the other bandits were slain by Nirbhaya and his comrades, [710] and the king cut off with one crescent-headed arrow the head of the commander of the Bhillas. The king's elephant Satrumardana, with the blood flowing from arrow-wounds, resembled a mountain of collyrium pouring forth streams coloured with cinnabar. Then his whole army, that had been dispersed, returned, finding themselves victorious, and those Bhillas, that had escaped slaughter, fled in all directions. And the king Prithvírúpa, having brought the fight to an end, had his might extolled by the ambassador of Rúpadhara, and being victorious, encamped in that very forest district, on the bank of a lake, to recruit the strength of his wounded troops. And in the morning the king set out thence, and slowly advancing he reached that city of Putrapura on the shore of the sea. There he rested for a day, being entertained in becoming fashion by the king of that place, named Udáracharita. And he crossed the sea in ships supplied by him, and in eight days reached the isle of Muktipura. And the king Rúpadhara, hearing of it, came to meet him delighted, and the two kings met and embraced one another. Then the king Prithvírúpa entered his city with him, being, so to speak, drunk in by the eyes of the ladies of the city. Then the queen Hemalatá and the king Rúpadhara, seeing that he was a suitable husband for their daughter, rejoiced. And that king Prithvírúpa remained there, and Rúpadhara honoured him with entertainment in accordance with his own magnificence. And the next day, the long-desiring Rúpalatá ascended the altar in an auspicious moment, and he with exultation received her hand in marriage. And when they beheld one another's beauty, the expanded eye of each was extended to the ear, as if to inform that organ that the report it had heard before was true. When the parched grain was thrown, Rúpadhara gave jewels in such abundance to the happy couple, that men thought he was a perfect mine of jewels. And after his daughter's marriage had taken place, he honoured the painter and the two mendicants with dresses and ornaments, and bestowed gifts on all the others. Then that king Prithvírúpa, remaining in that city with his attendants, enjoyed the best meat and drink the isle could produce. The day was spent in singing and dancing, and at night the eager king entered the private apartments of Rúpalatá, in which jewelled couches were spread, which was adorned with jewelled pavement, the circuit of which was propped on jewelled pillars, and which was lit up with jewel-lamps. And in the morning he was woke up by the bards and heralds reciting, and he rose up and remained as the moon in heaven. Thus king Prithvírúpa remained ten days in that island, amusing himself with ever-fresh enjoyments furnished by his father-in-law. On the eleventh day, the king, with the consent of the astrologers, set out with Rúpalatá, after the auspicious ceremony had been performed for him. And he was escorted by his father-in-law as far as the shore of the sea, and accompanied by his retainers, he embarked on the ships with his wife. He crossed the sea in eight days, and his army, that was encamped on the shore, joined him, and the king Udáracharita came to meet him, and then he went to Putrapura. There king Prithvírúpa rested some days, and was entertained by that king, and then he set out from that place. And he mounted his beloved Rúpalatá on the elephant Jayamangala, and he himself mounted an elephant named Kalyánagiri. And the king, proceeding by continual stages, in due course reached his good city of Pratishthána, where flags and banners were waving. Then, after beholding Rúpalatá, the ladies of the city lost at once all pride in their own beauty, and gazed on her with eyes unwinking from wonder. Then king Prithvírúpa entered his palace, making high festival, and he gave to that painter villages and wealth, and he honoured those two hermits with wealth as they deserved, and gave complimentary presents to the chiefs, ministers and Rájpúts. Then that king, having attained his object, enjoyed there this world's happiness in the society of Rúpalatá. After the minister Gomukha had told Naraváhanadatta this tale with the object of amusing him, he went on to say to the impatient prince,--"Thus the resolute endure painful separation for a long time, but how is it that you cannot endure it even for one night, O king? For to-morrow your Highness shall marry Alankáravatí." When Gomukha had said this, Marubhúti the son of Yaugandharáyana came up at that instant, and said, "What stuff will you not prate, being ungalled, and never having felt the agony of love? A man possesses firmness and discernment and morality, only so long as he does not come within the range of the arrows of Love. Happy in the world are Sarasvatí, Skanda, and Buddha, these three, who have brushed off and flung away love, like a blade of grass clinging to the skirt of the robe." When Marubhúti said this, Naraváhanadatta, perceiving that Gomukha was distressed, said in order to comfort him,--"What Gomukha said to me was appropriate, and it was said to amuse me, for what loving friend exults over one in the agony of separation? One afflicted by the pain of separation should be comforted by his friends to the best of their ability, and the sequel should be left to the disposal of the five-arrowed god." Talking in this style, and hearing various tales from his attendants, Naraváhanadatta somehow managed to get through that night. And when morning came, he rose up and performed his necessary duties, and saw Kánchanaprabhá descending from heaven, accompanied by her husband Alankárasíla, and her son Dharmasíla, and that Alankáravatí her daughter; and they all descended from the chariot and came near him, and he welcomed them as was fitting, and they saluted him in like manner. And in the meanwhile thousands of other Vidyádharas descended from heaven, carrying loads of gold, jewels, and other valuables; and after hearing of this occurrence, the king of Vatsa came there with his ministers and his queens, delighted at the advancement of his son. After the king of Vatsa had performed the rites of hospitality duly, the king Alankárasíla said to him, bowing graciously,--"King, this is my daughter Alankáravatí, and when she was born, she was declared by a voice, that came from heaven, to be destined to be the wife of this thy son Naraváhanadatta, the future emperor of all the Vidyádhara kings. So I will give her to him, for this is a favourable moment for them; for this reason I have come here with all these." The king of Vatsa welcomed that speech of the Vidyádhara sovereign's, saying, "It is a great favour that you do me." Then the ruler of the Vidyádharas sprinkled with water, produced in the hollow of his hand by virtue of his science, the ground of the courtyard. Immediately there was produced there an altar of gold, covered with a heavenly cloth, and a pavilion, not made with hands, for the preliminary ceremony, composed of various jewels. Then the successful king Alankárasíla said to Naraváhanadatta--"Rise up, the favourable moment has arrived--bathe." After he had bathed, and had the marriage-thread put on, the king Alankárasíla, being delighted, gave him with all his heart his daughter, after bringing her to the altar in her bridal dress. And when the grain was thrown into the fire, he and his son gave to his daughter thousands of loads of jewels, gold, garments and ornaments, and heavenly nymphs. And after the marriage was over, he honoured them all, and then took his leave of them, and with his wife and son departed, as he came, through the air. Then the king of Vatsa, seeing his son destined to advancement, being honoured by the bending kings of the Vidyádharas, was delighted, and prolonged that feast to a great length. And Naraváhanadatta, having obtained Alankáravatí, charming on account of her good conduct, and of noble virtues, like a skilful poet who has obtained a style, charming on account of its excellent metre, and of splendid merits, remained delighted with her. [711] CHAPTER LII. Then Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, being united to Alankáravatí his new wife, remained in the house of his father, pleased with the heavenly dancing and singing of her maids, and enjoying banquets with his ministers. And one day his mother-in-law Kánchanaprabhá, the mother of Alankáravatí, came to him and said, after he had hospitably entertained her--"Come to our palace, behold that city of Sundarapura, and take your delight in its gardens with Alankáravatí." When he heard this, he consented, and he informed his father, and by his advice took Vasantaka with him, and with his wife and his minister, he ascended a splendid chariot created by his mother-in-law by her science, and set out through the air, and while in the chariot, he looked down from heaven, and beheld the earth of the size of a mound, and the seas small as ditches, and in due course he reached the Himálayas with his mother-in-law, wife, and attendants, and it resounded with the songs of the Kinnarís, and was adorned with the companies of heavenly nymphs. There he saw a great many wonderful sights, and then he reached the city of Sundarapura. It was adorned with many palaces of gold and jewels, and, thus, though it was on the Himálayas, it made the beholder suppose that he was looking on the peaks of mount Meru. [712] And he descended from the heaven, and getting out of the carriage entered that city, which, as it were, danced with the waving silk of its banners, in its joy at having once more a king. And he entered that palace, with the auspicious ceremony performed for him by his mother-in-law, accompanied by Alankáravatí, and with his favourites and Vasantaka. There the fortunate prince spent the day in his father-in-law's palace, in enjoyments which were provided for him by the power of his mother-in-law. And on the next day his mother-in-law Kánchanaprabhá said to him; "There is in this city an image of the holy self-existent husband of Umá. [713] He, if visited and worshipped, gives enjoyment and even salvation. Around it the father of Alankáravatí made a great garden, and brought down to it a holy water, rightly named the Ganges-pool: go there to-day to worship the god and to amuse yourselves." When his mother-in-law said this to him, Naraváhanadatta, accompanied by his wife Alankáravatí, and followed by his attendants, went to that garden of Siva. It looked lovely with its golden-trunked trees, which were charming with their branches of jewels, the clear white flowers of which were clusters of pearls, and the shoots of which were coral. [714] There he bathed in the Ganges-pool and worshipped Siva, and wandered round the tanks that were adorned with ladders of jewels and lotuses of gold. And, accompanied by his attendants, he amused himself with Alankáravatí on their charming banks, and in bowers of the wish-granting creeper. And in those he delighted his soul with heavenly banquets and concerts, and amusing jokes caused by the simplicity of Marubhúti. And so Naraváhanadatta dwelt a month there, amusing himself in gardens, thanks to the resources of his mother-in-law. Then that Kánchanaprabhá bestowed on him, his wife, and his ministers, garments and ornaments fit for gods, and with his mother-in-law and his attendants, he returned in that same chariot to Kausámbí, accompanied by his wife, and he gladdened the eyes of his parents. There Alankáravatí was thus addressed by her mother in the presence of the king of Vatsa; "You must never by jealous anger make your husband unhappy, for the fruit of that fault, my daughter, is separation that causes great affliction. Because I was jealous in old time and afflicted my husband, I am now consumed with remorse, as he has gone to the forest." After saying this, she embraced her daughter with eyes blinded with tears, and flying up into the air went to her own city. Then, that day having come to an end, the next morning Naraváhanadatta, having performed the appropriate duties, was sitting with his ministers, when a woman rushed into the presence of Alankáravatí and said--"Queen, I am a woman in the utmost terror, protect me, protect me! For there is a Bráhman come to slay me, and he is standing outside; through fear of him I have fled and come in here to implore protection." The queen said, "Do not fear. Tell your tale. Who is he? Why does he wish to slay you?" When thus questioned, the woman began to say:-- Story of Asokamálá. My sovereign, I am the daughter of a Kshatriya in this city, named Balasena, and my name is Asokamálá. When I was a virgin, I was demanded from my father by a rich Bráhman named Hathasarman, who was captivated by my beauty. And I said to my father; "I do not like this ugly grim-visaged man for a husband; if you give me to him, I will not remain in his house." Though Hathasarman heard that, he sat in dharna at the door of my father's house, until he gave me to him, being afraid of causing the death of a Bráhman. Then the Bráhman married me and carried me off reluctant, and I deserted him, and fled to another man, the son of a Kshatriya. But that Hathasarman managed to crush him by the power of his wealth, and then I went to another Kshatriya, who was well off. Then this Bráhman went at night and set his house on fire. Then he abandoned me, and I went to a third Kshatriya, and this Bráhman burnt his house also at night. Then I was abandoned by him also, and I became a fugitive, flying in terror, as the sheep flies from the jackal, from that Hathasarman, who wishes to slay me, and follows me step by step. In this very city I entered the service of the mighty Vírasarman your servant, a Rájpút who protects the helpless. When the wicked Hathasarman found that out, he was miserable at having no hope of recovering me, and being afflicted with separation, he was reduced to skin and bone. But the Rájpút Vírasarman, when disposed to imprison him for my protection, was prevented by me, O queen. To-day it chanced that I went outside the house, and Hathasarman, seeing me, drew his sword and rushed on me to kill me, but I thereupon fled here, and the female warder, melted with compassion, opened the door and let me enter, but he, I know, is waiting for me outside. When she said this, the king had the Bráhman Hathasarman summoned into his presence; he looked at Asokamálá with an eye inflamed with anger, his form was distorted, he held a sword in his hand, and the joints of his limbs trembled with rage. The king said to him, "Wicked Bráhman, do you try to kill a woman, and for her sake set on fire your neighbours' houses? Why are you so wicked?" When the Bráhman heard that, he said, "She is my lawful wife. She has left my protection and gone elsewhere, how could I endure that?" When he said this, Asokamálá, in distress, exclaimed, "O guardians of the world, tell me this; did he not in your presence marry me and carry me off by force against my own will? And did I not say at the time, 'I will not dwell in his house?'" When she said this, a heavenly voice said, "The statement of Asokamálá is true. But she is not a woman; hear the truth about her. There is a heroic king of the Vidyádharas named Asokakara. He had no sons, and once on a time it happened that a daughter was born to him, and she grew up in the house of her father, under the name of Asokamálá. And when she arrived at an adult age, and he, desiring to perpetuate his race, offered her in marriage, she would not take any husband, through exceeding pride in her own beauty. For that reason her father, vexed with her obstinacy, denounced this curse on her; 'Become a mortal, and in that state thou shalt have the same name. And an ugly Bráhman shall marry thee by force; thou shalt abandon him, and in thy fear resort to three husbands in succession. Even then he shall persecute thee, and thou shalt take refuge with a mighty Kshatriya as his slave, but even then the Bráhman shall not desist from persecuting thee. And he shall see thee, and run after thee, with the object of killing thee, but thou shalt escape, and entering the king's palace, shalt be delivered from this curse.' Accordingly that very Vidyádharí, Asokamálá, who was in old time cursed by her father, has now been born as a woman under the same name. And this appointed end of her curse has now arrived. She shall now repair to her Vidyádhara home, and enter her own body which is there. There she, remembering her curse, shall live happily with a Vidyádhara prince, named Abhiruchita, who shall become her husband." When the heavenly voice had said this, it ceased, and immediately that Asokamálá fell dead on the ground. But the king and Alankáravatí, when they saw that, had their eyes suffused with tears, and so had their courtiers. But in Hathasarman grief overpowered anger, and he wept, blinded with passion. Then his eyes suddenly became expanded with joy. All of them thereupon said to him,--"What does this mean?" Then that Bráhman said, "I remember my former birth, and I will give an account of it, listen." Story of Sthúlabhuja. On the Himálayas there is a splendid city, named Madanapura; in it dwelt a Vidyádhara prince, named Pralambabhuja. He had born to him, my lord, a son named Sthúlabhuja, and he in course of time became a handsome prince in the flower of youth. Then a king of the Vidyádharas, named Surabhivatsa, came with his daughter to the palace of that king Pralambabhuja, and said to him: "I give this daughter of mine, called Surabhidattá, to your son Sthúlabhuja; let the accomplished youth marry her now." When Pralambabhuja heard this, he approved it, and summoning his son, he communicated the matter to him. Then his son Sthúlabhuja, out of pride in his beauty, said to him, "I will not marry her, my father, for she is not a first-class beauty." His father thereupon said to him, "What does her plainness matter? For she is of high lineage and must be honoured on that account, and her father offered her to me for you, and I have accepted her, so do not refuse." Although Sthúlabhuja was thus entreated a second time by his father, he would not consent to marry her. Then his father, in his anger, denounced against him the following curse--"On account of this your pride in your good looks, be born as a man, and in that state you shall be ugly and with a large mouth. And you shall acquire by force a wife named Asokamálá, also fallen by a curse, and she, not liking you, shall leave you, and you shall experience the grief of separation. And as she shall be attached to another, you shall commit for her sake arson and other crimes, being maddened with passion and emaciated with grief." When Pralambabhuja had uttered this curse, that virtuous Surabhidattá clung to his feet, weeping, and entreated him, "Pronounce a curse on me also, let our lot be the same, let not my husband alone suffer calamity owing to my fault." When she said this, Pralambabhuja was pleased, and, in order to comfort that virtuous woman, he appointed for her this end to his son's curse: "Whenever Asokamálá shall be released from her curse, then he shall remember his birth and be released from this curse, and he shall regain his own body, and remembering his curse, he shall be free from pride, and soon marry you; then he shall live with you in happiness." When the virtuous woman was thus addressed by him, she managed to recover her self-composure. "Know that I am that very Sthúlabhuja, fallen here by a curse, and I have experienced this great grief owing to the fault of pride. How can proud men have happiness in a previous or in a present state of existence? And that curse of mine is now at an end." After saying this, Hathasarman abandoned that body, and became a Vidyádhara youth. And he took by the might of his science the body of Asokamálá, and flung it, without its being seen, into the Ganges, out of compassion. And he sprinkled immediately the chamber of Alankáravatí all round with water of the Ganges, brought by the might of his science, and after bending before Naraváhanadatta, his future lord, he flew up into the heaven to his destined prosperity. All being astonished, Gomukha told this story of Anangarati, which was appropriate to the incident-- Story of Anangarati and her four suitors. There is on the earth a city, rightly named Súrapura, [715] and in it there lived a king named Mahávaráha, the destroyer of his foes. That king had a daughter named Anangarati, born to him by his wife Padmarati, owing to his having propitiated Gaurí, and he had no other children. And in course of time she attained womanhood, and proud of her beauty, she did not wish to have any husband, though kings asked her in marriage. But she said decidedly; "I must be given to a man who is brave and handsome, and knows some one splendid accomplishment. Then there came from the Dekhan four heroes, who, having heard tidings of her, were eager to obtain her, and they were furnished with the qualities which she desired. They were announced by the warder and introduced, and then king Mahávaráha asked them in the presence of Anangarati; "What are your names? what is your descent, and what do you know?" When they heard this speech of the king's, one of them said--"I am Panchaphuttika by name, a Súdra; I possess a peculiar talent; I weave every day five pairs of garments, one of them I give to a Bráhman, and the second I offer to Siva, and the third I wear myself, and as for the fourth, if I had a wife, I would give it to her, and the fifth I sell, and live upon the proceeds." Then the second said, "I am a Vaisya named Bháshájna; I know the language of all beasts and birds." [716] Then the third said, "I am a Kshatriya named Khadgadhara, and no one surpasses me in fighting with the sword." And the fourth said, "I am an excellent Bráhman named Jívadatta; by means of the sciences which I possess by the favour of Gaurí, I can raise to life a dead woman." [717] When they had thus spoken, the Súdra, the Vaisya, and the Kshatriya one after another praised their own beauty, courage and might, but the Bráhman praised his might and valour, and said nothing about his beauty. Then king Mahávaráha said to his door-keeper--"Take all these now and make them rest in your house." The door-keeper, when he heard the order, took them to his house. Then the king said to his daughter Anangarati, "My daughter, which of these four heroes do you prefer?" When Anangarati heard that, she said to her father; "Father, I do not like any one of the four; the first is a Súdra and a weaver, what is the use of his good qualities? The second is a Vaisya, and what is the use of his knowing the language of cattle, and so on? How can I give myself to them, when I am a Kshatriya woman? The third indeed is a meritorious Kshatriya, equal to me in birth, but be is a poor man and lives by service, selling his life. As I am the daughter of a king, how can I become his wife? The fourth, the Bráhman Jívadatta, I do not like; he is ugly and is addicted to unlawful arts, and, as he has deserted the Vedas, he has fallen from his high position. You ought to punish him, why do you offer to give me to him? For you, my father, being a king, are the upholder of the castes and the various stages of life. And a king, who is a hero in upholding religion, is preferred to a king, who is only a hero with the sword. A hero in religion will be the lord of a thousand heroes with the sword." When his daughter had said this, the king dismissed her to her own private apartments, and rose up to bathe and perform his other duties. And the next day, the four heroes went out from the house of the door-keeper, and roamed about in the town out of curiosity. And at that very time a vicious elephant, named Padmakabala, broke his fastening, and in his fury rushed out from the elephant-stable, trampling down the citizens. And that great elephant, when he saw the four heroes, rushed towards them to slay them, and they too advanced towards him with uplifted weapons. Then the one Kshatriya among them, named Khadgadhara, putting aside the other three, alone attacked that elephant. And he cut off with one blow the protended trunk of that roaring elephant, with as much ease as if it had been a lotus-stalk. And after showing his agility by escaping between his feet, he delivered a second blow on the back of that elephant. And with the third he cut off both his feet. Then that elephant gave a groan and fell down and died. All the people were astonished when they beheld that valour of his, and king Mahávaráha was also amazed when he heard of it. The next day, the king went out to hunt, mounted on an elephant, and the four heroes, with Khadgadhara at their head, accompanied him. There the king with his army slew tigers, deer, and boars, and the lions rushed out upon him in anger, hearing the trumpeting of the elephants. Then that Khadgadhara cleft in twain, with one blow of his sharp sword, the first lion that attacked them, and the second he seized with his left hand by the foot, and dashing it on the earth, deprived it of life. And in the same way Bháshájna, and Jívadatta, and Panchaphuttika, each dashed a lion to pieces on the earth. Thus in turn those heroes killed on foot many tigers, and lions, and other animals, with ease, before the eyes of the king. Then that king, being pleased and astonished, after he had finished his hunting, entered his city, and those heroes went to the house of the door-keeper. And the king entered the harem, and though tired, had his daughter Anangarati quickly summoned. And after describing the valour of those heroes, one by one, as he had seen it in the chase, he said to her who was much astonished--"Even if Panchaphuttika and Bháshájna are of inferior caste, and Jívadatta, though a Bráhman, is ugly and addicted to forbidden practices, what fault is there in the Kshatriya Khadgadhara, who is handsome, and of noble stature, and is distinguished for strength and valour; who slew such an elephant, and who takes lions by the foot and crushes them on the ground, and slays others with the sword? And if it is made a ground of reproach against him that he is poor and a servant, I will immediately make him a lord to be served by others: so choose him for a husband, if you please, my daughter." When Anangarati heard this from her father, she said to him--"Well then, bring all those men here, and ask the astrologer, and let us see what he says." When she said this to him, the king summoned those heroes, and in their presence he, accompanied by his wives, said to the astrologer with his own mouth: "Find out with which of these Anangarati has conformity of horoscope, and when a favourable moment will arrive for her marriage." When the skilful astrologer heard that, he asked the stars under which they were born, and after long considering the time, he said to that king--"If you will not be angry with me, king, I will tell you plainly. Your daughter has no conformity of lot with any one of them. And she will not be married on earth, for she is a Vidyádharí fallen by a curse; that curse of hers will be at an end in three months. So let these wait here three months, and if she is not gone to her own world then, the marriage shall take place." All those heroes accepted the advice of that astrologer, and remained there for three months. When three months had passed, the king summoned into his presence those heroes, and that astrologer, and Anangarati. And the king, when he saw that his daughter had suddenly become exceedingly beautiful, rejoiced, but the astrologer thought that the hour of her death had arrived. And while the king was saying to the astrologer--"Now tell me what it is proper to do, for those three months are gone," Anangarati called to mind her former birth, and covering her face with her garment, she abandoned that human body. The king thought--"Why has she put herself in this position?" But when he himself uncovered her face, he saw that she was dead, like a frost-smitten lotus-plant, for her eyes like bees had ceased to revolve, the lotus-flower of her face was pale, and the sweet sound of her voice had ceased, even as the sound of the swans departs. Then the king suddenly fell to earth motionless, smitten by the thunderbolt of grief for her, crushed by the extinction of his race. [718] And the queen Padmarati also fell down to the earth in a swoon, and with her ornaments fallen from her like flowers, appeared like a cluster of blossoms broken by an elephant. The attendants raised cries of lamentation, and those heroes were full of grief, but the king, immediately recovering consciousness, said to that Jívadatta, "In this matter those others have no power, but now it is your opportunity; you boasted that you could raise to life a dead woman; if you possess power by means of science, then recall my daughter to life; I will give her, when restored to life, to you as being a Bráhman." When Jívadatta heard this speech of the king's, he sprinkled that princess with water, over which charms had been said, and chanted this Áryá verse: "O thou of the loud laugh, adorned with a garland of skulls, not to be gazed on, Chámundá, the terrible goddess, assist me quickly." When, in spite of this effort of Jívadatta's, that maiden was not restored to life, he was despondent, and said--"My science, though bestowed by the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya range, has proved fruitless, so what is the use to me of my life that has become an object of scorn?" When he had said this, he was preparing to cut off his head with a great sword, when a voice came from the sky--"O Jívadatta, do not act rashly, listen now. This noble Vidyádhara maiden, named Anangaprabhá, has been for so long a time a mortal owing to the curse of her parents. She has now quitted this human body, and has gone to her own world, and taken her own body. So go and propitiate again the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya hills, and by her favour you shall recover this noble Vidyádhara maiden. But as she is enjoying heavenly bliss, neither you nor the king ought to mourn for her." When the heavenly voice had told this true tale, it ceased. Then the king performed his daughter's rites, and he and his wife ceased to mourn for her, and those other three heroes returned as they had come. But hope was kindled in the breast of Jívadatta, and he went and propitiated with austerities the dweller in the Vindhya hills, and she said to him in a dream: "I am satisfied with thee, so rise up and listen to this that I am about to tell thee." Story of Anangarati in a former birth when she was a Vidyádharí named Anangaprabhá. There is a city on the Himálayas named Vírapura; and in it there dwells a sovereign of Vidyádharas named Samara. He had a daughter, named Anangaprabhá, born to him by his queen Anangavatí. When, in the pride of her youth and beauty, she refused to have any husband, her parents, enraged at her persistence, cursed her-- "Become a human being, and even in that state you shall not enjoy the happiness of married life. When you are a maiden of sixteen years, you shall abandon the body and come here. But an ugly mortal, who has become such by a curse, on account of his falling in love with the daughter of a hermit, and who possesses a magic sword, shall then become your husband, and he shall carry you off against your will to the world of mortals. There you, being unchaste, shall be separated from your husband. Because that husband in a former life carried off the wives of eight other men, he shall endure sorrow enough for eight births. And you, having become a mortal by the loss of your supernatural science, shall endure in that one birth the sufferings of eight births. [719] For to every one the association with the evil gives an evil lot, but to women the union with an evil husband is equivalent to evil. And having lost your memory of the past, you shall there take many mortal husbands, because you obstinately persisted in detesting the husband fitted for you. That Vidyádhara Madanaprabha, who, being equal in birth, demanded you in marriage, shall become a mortal king and at last become your husband. Then you shall be freed from your curse, and return to your own world, and you shall obtain that suitable match, who shall have returned to his Vidyádhara state." So that maiden Anangaprabhá has become Anangarati on the earth, and returning to her parents, has once more become Anangaprabhá. "So go to Vírapura and conquer in fight her father, though he is possessed of knowledge and protected by his high birth, and obtain that maiden. Now take this sword, and as long as you hold it in your hand, you will be able to travel through the air, and moreover you will be invincible." Having said this, and having given the sword to him, the goddess vanished, and he woke up, and beheld in his hand a heavenly sword. Then Jívadatta rose up delighted and praised Durgá, and all the exhaustion produced by his penance was removed by the refreshment caused by the nectar of her favour. And he flew up into the air with his sword in his hand, and after roaming all round the Himálayas, he found that prince of the Vidyádharas Samara in Vírapura. He conquered him in fight, and then the king gave him his daughter Anangaprabhá, and he married her, and lived in heavenly felicity. And after he had remained there some time, he said to his father-in-law Samara and to his beloved Anangaprabhá, "Let us two go to the world of men, for I feel a longing for it, for one's native land is exceedingly dear to living beings, even though it may be an inferior place." [720] When the father-in-law heard that, he consented, but the far-seeing Anangaprabhá was with difficulty induced to consent; then Jívadatta descended from heaven to the world of mortals, taking that Anangaprabhá in his arms. And Anangaprabhá, beholding there a pleasant mountain, being wearied, said to him--"Let us immediately rest here." Then he consented, and descending there with her, he produced food and drink by the power of the various sciences. Then Jívadatta, being impelled by fate, said to Anangaprabhá--"Dear one, sing some sweet song." When she heard that, she began to sing devoutly the praise of Siva, and with that sound of her singing the Bráhman was sent to sleep. In the meanwhile a king, named Harivara, wearied out with hunting, came that way in search of spring-water; he was attracted by hearing the sound of that singing, as deer are attracted, and, leaving his chariot, he went there alone. The king first had happiness announced by omens, and then he beheld that Anangaprabhá like the real brightness of the god of love. Then, as his heart was distracted with her song and her beauty, the god of love cleft it at will with his arrows. Anangaprabhá too, seeing that he was handsome, came within the range of the god of the flowery bow, and said to herself--"Who is this? is he the god of love, without his flowery bow? Is he the incarnation of the favour of Siva towards me, he being pleased with my song?" Then maddened with love, she asked him--"Who are you, and how have you come to this forest, tell me." Then the king told her who he was, and why he had come; then he said to her, "Tell me, who are you, fair one? And who is this, O lotus-faced one, who is sleeping here?" When he asked these questions, she answered him briefly: "I am a Vidyádharí, and this is my husband, who possesses a magic sword, and now I have fallen in love with you at first sight. So come, let us quickly go to your city, before he awakes; then I will tell my story at length." When the king heard that, he agreed, and felt as much delighted as if he had obtained the sovereignty of the three worlds. And Anangaprabhá hurriedly thought in her heart, "I will take this king in my arms, and quickly fly up to the heaven," but in the meanwhile her knowledge was stripped from her by her treachery to her husband; and remembering her father's curse, she became at once despondent. When the king saw that, he asked the cause, and then said to her--"This is not the time for despondency; your husband here may awake. And you ought not to lament, my beloved, over this matter which depends on destiny. For who can escape from the shadow of his own head, or the course of destiny? So come, let us depart." When the king Harivara said this, she consented to his proposal, and he took her quickly up in his arms. Then he went off quickly thence, as delighted as if he had obtained a treasure, and ascended his chariot, welcomed with joy by his servants. And he reached his city in that chariot, which travelled swift as thought, accompanied by his beloved, and he aroused curiosity in his subjects. Then king Harivara remained in heavenly enjoyments in that city, which was named after him, in the society of that Anangaprabhá. And Anangaprabhá remained there devotedly attached to him, forgetting all her supernatural power, bewildered by the curse. In the meanwhile Jívadatta woke up on the mountain, and saw that not only Anangaprabhá was gone, but his sword also. He thought "Where is that Anangaprabhá? Alas! Where is that sword? Has she gone off with it? Or were they both carried off by some being?" In his perplexity, he made many surmises of this sort, and he searched that mountain for three days, being consumed with the fire of love. Then he came down, and wandered through the forests for ten days, but did not find a trace of her anywhere. He kept crying out--"Alas spiteful fortune, how did you carry off, together with the magic power of the sword, my beloved Anangaprabhá, both which you granted with difficulty?" Thus employed he wandered about without food, and at last reached a village, and there he entered the opulent mansion of a Bráhman. There the handsome and well-dressed mistress of the house, Priyadattá by name, made him sit down on a seat, and immediately gave this order to her maids--"Wash quickly the feet of this Jívadatta, for to-day is the thirteenth day that he has gone without food on account of his separation." When Jívadatta heard that, he was astonished, and reflected in his own mind--"Can Anangaprabhá have come here, or is this woman a witch?" Thus he reflected, and after his feet were washed, and he had eaten the food that she gave, he humbly asked Priyadattá in his great grief--"Tell me one thing: how do you know my history, blameless one? And tell me another thing, where are my sword and my beloved gone?" When the devoted wife Priyadattá heard that, she said--"No one but my husband has any place in my heart even in a dream, my son, and I look on all other men as brothers, and no guest leaves my house without entertainment; by virtue of that I know the past, the present and the future. And that Anangaprabhá of yours has been carried off by a king named Harivara, living in a town named after him, who, as destiny would have it, came that way, while you were asleep, attracted by her song. And you cannot recover her, for that king is very powerful; moreover that unchaste woman will in turn leave him and go to another man. And the goddess Durgá gave you that sword only that you might obtain that lady; having accomplished that, the weapon, in virtue of its divine nature, has returned to the goddess, as the lady has been carried off. Moreover, how have you forgotten what the goddess was pleased to tell you, when she told the story of the curse of Anangaprabhá? So why are you so distracted about an event, which was destined to take place? Abandon this chain of sins, which again and again produces extreme sorrow. And of what profit can be to you now, my brother, that wicked female, who is attached to another, and who has become a mortal, having lost her science by her treachery against you?" When that virtuous woman said this to Jívadatta, he abandoned all passion for Anangaprabhá, being disgusted with her fickleness, and thus answered the Bráhman lady--"Mother, my delusion has been brought to an end by this true speech of thine; whom does not association with persons of virtuous conduct benefit? This misfortune has befallen me in consequence of my former crimes, so I will abandon jealousy, and go to holy places to wash them out. What can I gain by taking up an enmity with others on account of Anangaprabhá? For one, who has conquered anger, conquers this whole world." While he was saying this, the righteous husband of Priyadattá, who was hospitable to guests, returned to the house. The husband also welcomed him, and made him forget his grief, and then he rested, and taking leave of them both, started on his pilgrimage to holy places. Then, in course of time, he roamed round to all the holy bathing-places on the earth, enduring many toils in difficult ways, living on roots and fruits. And after visiting holy bathing-places, he went to the shrine of the dweller in the Vindhya hills; there he went through a severe penance, without food, on a bed of kusa grass. And Ambiká, satisfied with his asceticism, said to him, appearing to him in bodily form--"Rise up, my son, for you four are four ganas of mine. Three are Panchamúla, Chaturvaktra, and Mahodaramukha, and thou art the fourth, last in order, and thy name is Vikatavadana. You four once went to the sand of the Ganges to amuse yourselves, and saw there a hermit's daughter bathing. She was called Chápalekhá, the daughter of Kapilajata. And she was solicited by all of you, distracted with love. When she said 'I am a maiden, go away all of you,' the three others remained quiet, but thou didst forcibly seize her by the arm. And she cried out--'Father, Father, deliver me.' Then the hermit, who was near, came up in wrath. Then thou didst let go her arm; then he immediately cursed you, saying--'Wicked ones, be born, all of you, as human beings.' Then you asked the hermit that the curse might end, and he said--'When the princess Anangarati shall be demanded in marriage by you, and shall go to the Vidyádhara world, then three of you shall be released from your curse. But when she has become a Vidyádharí, then thou, Vikatavadana, shalt gain her, and lose her again, and then thou shalt suffer great sorrow. But after propitiating the goddess Durgá for a long time, thou shalt be released from this curse. This will happen to thee, because thou didst touch the hand of this Chápalekhá, and also because thou hast much guilt attaching to thee, on account of having carried off the wives of others.' You four ganas of mine, whom that hermit thus cursed, became four heroes in the Dekhan, Panchaphuttika, and Bháshájna, and Khadgadhara, these three friends, and you the fourth Jívadatta. Now the first three, when Anangarati returned to her own place, came here, and by my favour were freed from their curse. And thou hast propitiated me now, therefore thy curse is at an end. So take this fiery meditation, and abandon this body; and consume at once the guilt, which it would take eight births to exhaust." When the goddess Durgá had said this, she gave him the meditation, and disappeared. And with that meditation he burned up his wicked mortal body, and at last was freed from the curse, and became once more an excellent gana. When even gods have to endure so much suffering by associating with the wives of others, what must be the result of it to inferior beings? In the meanwhile Anangaprabhá became head-queen in Harivara, the city of the king Harivara. And the king remained day and night with his mind fixed on her, and entrusted the great burden of his kingdom to his minister named Sumantra. And once on a time there came to that king from Madhyadesa, [721] a fresh teacher of dancing, named Labdhavara. The king, having seen his skill in music and dancing, honoured him, and made him the instructor in dancing of the ladies of the harem. He brought Anangaprabhá to such excellence in dancing, that she was an object of admiration even to her rival wives. And from associating with the professor of dancing, and from the delight she took in his teaching, she fell in love with him. And the professor of dancing, attracted by her youth and beauty, gradually learnt a new strange [722] dance, thanks to the god of Love. And once she approached the professor of dancing secretly in the dancing-hall, and being desperately in love with him, said to him--"I shall not be able to live for a moment without you, and the king Harivara, when he hears of it, will not tolerate it, so come, let us depart elsewhere, where the king will not find us out. You have wealth in the form of gold, horses, and camels, given by the king, pleased with your dancing, and I have ornaments. So let us quickly go and dwell where we shall be secure." The professor of dancing was pleased with her proposal, and consented to this. Then she put on the dress of a man, and went to the house of the professor of dancing, accompanied by one female servant, who was exceedingly devoted to her. Thence she started on horseback, with that teacher of dancing, who placed his wealth on the back of a camel. First she abandoned the splendour of the Vidyádharas, then of a throne, and now she put herself under the shelter of a bard's fortune; alas! fickle is the mind of women! And so Anangaprabhá went with the teacher of dancing, and reached a distant city named Viyogapura. There she dwelt in happiness with him, and the distinguished dancer thought that by obtaining her his name of Labdhavara [723] had been justified. And in the meanwhile king Harivara, finding out that his beloved Anangaprabhá had gone somewhere or other, was ready to abandon the body out of grief. Then the minister Sumantra said to the king to comfort him, "Why do you appear as if you do not understand the matter? Consider it yourself? How, my sovereign, could you expect that a woman, who deserted a husband, that had by means of his sword obtained the power of a Vidyádhara, and repaired to you as soon as she saw you, would be faithful even to you? She has gone off with something that she has managed to get, having no desire for anything good, as one to whom a blade of grass is a sprout of jewels, falling in love at sight with a blade of grass. Certainly the teacher of dancing has gone off with her, for he is nowhere to be seen. And I hear that they both were in the concert-hall in the morning. So tell me, king; why are you so persistent about her, though you know all this? The truth is, a fickle dame is like a sunset, momentarily aglow for every one." When the minister said this to him, the king fell into a musing, and thought--"Yes, that wise man has told me the truth. For a fickle dame is like human life; connexion with her is unstable, she changes every moment, and is terrible, bringing disgust at the end. The wise man never falls into the power of deep rivers or of women, both which drown him who falls into their power, while they exhibit wanton sportfulness. Those men are truly masters of themselves, who are free from excitement about pleasures, who are not puffed up in prosperity, and who are unshrinking in dangers; such men have conquered the world." After saying this, king Harivara abandoned his grief by the advice of his minister, and remained satisfied with the society of his own wives. And after Anangaprabhá had dwelt some time with the teacher of dancing, in the city named Viyogapura, he, as fate would have it, struck up an acquaintance with a young gambler named Sudarsana; then the gambler, before the eyes of Anangaprabhá, soon stripped the teacher of dancing of all his wealth. Then Anangaprabhá deserted her husband, who was stripped of all his fortune, as if in anger on that account, and threw herself into the arms of Sudarsana. Then the teacher of dancing, having lost his wife and his wealth, having no refuge, in disgust with the world, matted his hair in a knot, and went to the banks of the Ganges to practise mortification of the flesh. But Anangaprabhá, who was ever taking new paramours, remained with that gambler. But one night, her lord Sudarsana was robbed of all that he had by some robbers, who entered his house in the darkness. Then Sudarsana, seeing that Anangaprabhá was uncomfortable and unhappy on account of their poverty, said to her: "Come and let us borrow something from a rich friend of mine, named Hiranyagupta, a distinguished merchant." After saying this, he, being deprived of his senses by destiny, went with his wife, and asked that great merchant Hiranyagupta to lend him some money. And the merchant, when he saw her, immediately fell in love with her, and she also with him, the moment that she beheld him. And the merchant said politely to Sudarsana--"To-morrow I will give you gold, but dine here to-day." When Sudarsana heard this, beholding the altered bearing of those two, he said--"I did not come here to-day to dine." Then the great merchant said--"If this be the case, at any rate let your wife dine here, my friend, for this is the first time that she has visited my house." When Sudarsana was thus addressed by him, he remained silent in spite of his cunning, and that merchant went into his house with Anangaprabhá. There he indulged in drinking and other pastimes with that fair one, unexpectedly thrown in his way, who was merry with all the wantonness of wine. But Sudarsana, who was standing outside, waiting for her to come out, had the following message brought to him by the merchant's servants, in accordance with their master's orders: "Your wife has dined and gone home; you must have failed to see her going out. So what are you doing here so long? Go home." He answered--"She is within the house, she has not come out, and I will not depart." Thereupon the merchant's servants drove him away from the house with kicks. Then Sudarsana went off, and sorrowfully reflected with himself: "What! has this merchant, though my friend, robbed me of my wife? Or rather, in this very birth the fruit of my sin has in such a form fallen to my lot. For what I did to one, another has done to me. Why should I then be angry with another, when my own deeds merit anger? So I will sever the chain of works, so that I may not be again humiliated." Thus reflecting, the gambler abandoned his anger, and going to the hermitage of Badariká, [724] he proceeded to perform such austerities as would cut the bonds of mundane existence. And Anangaprabhá, having obtained that exceedingly handsome merchant for a dear husband, was as pleased as a bee that has lighted on a flower. And in course of time she attained undisputed control over the wealth, as well as over the heart of that opulent merchant, who was deeply in love with her. But the king Vírabáhu, though he heard of the matchless beauty residing there, did not carry her off, but remained strictly within the limits of virtue. And in course of time, the wealth of the merchant began to diminish, on account of the expenditure of Anangaprabhá; for, in a house presided over by an unchaste woman, Fortune pines as well as virtuous women. Then the merchant Hiranyagupta got together wares, and went off to an island named Suvarnabhúmi to trade, and he took that Anangaprabhá with him, out of fear of being separated from her, and journeying on his way, he at last reached the city of Ságarapura. There he fell in with a chief of fishermen, a native of that place, Ságaravíra by name, whom he found in that city near the sea. He went with that sea-faring man to the shore of the sea, and with his beloved embarked on a ship which he provided. And after the merchant had travelled in anxiety for some days over the sea, in that ship, accompanied by Ságaravíra, one day a terrible black cloud of doom appeared, with flashing eyes of lightning, filling them with fear of destruction. Then that ship, smitten by a mighty wind, with a violent shower of rain, began to sink in the waves. That merchant Hiranyagupta, when the crew raised a cry of lamentation, and the ship began to break up like his own hopes, fastened his cloak round his loins, and looking at the face of Anangaprabhá, exclaimed "Ah! my beloved, where art thou," and threw himself into the sea. And he oared himself along with his arms, and, as luck would have it, he reached a merchant-ship, and he caught hold of it, and climbed up into it. But that Ságaravíra tied together some planks with a cord, and quickly placed Anangaprabhá upon them. And he himself climbed up upon them, and comforted that terrified woman, and went paddling along in the sea, throwing aside the water with his arms. And as soon as the ship had been broken to pieces, the clouds disappeared from the heaven, and the sea was calm, like a good man whose wrath is appeased. But the merchant Hiranyagupta, after climbing up into the ship, which was impelled by the wind, as fate would have it, reached in five days the shore of the sea. Then he went on shore, grieved at the loss of his beloved, but he reflected that the dispensations of Destiny were irremediable; and he went slowly home to his own city, and being of resolute soul, he recovered his self-command, and again acquired wealth, and lived in great comfort. But Anangaprabhá, seated on the plank, was piloted to the shore of the sea in one day by Ságaravíra. And there that chief of the fishermen, consoling her, took her to his own palace in the city of Ságarapura. There Anangaprabhá, reflecting that that chief of the fishermen was a hero who had saved her life, and was equal to a king in opulence, and in the prime of youth and good looks, and obedient to her orders, made him her husband: a woman who has lost her virtue does not distinguish between high and low. Then she dwelt with that chief of fishermen, enjoying in his house his wealth that he put at her disposal. One day she saw from the roof of the palace a handsome Kshatriya youth, named Vijayavarman, going along the high street of the town. Falling in love with his good looks, she went up to him, and said--"Receive me, who am in love with you, for my mind has been fascinated by the sight of you." And he gladly welcomed that fairest woman of the three worlds, who had fallen to him, as it were, from the sky, and took her home to his house. But Ságaravíra, finding that his beloved had gone somewhere or other, abandoned all, and went to the river Ganges, intending to leave the body by means of ascetic practices; and no wonder that his grief was great, for how could a man of servile caste ever have expected to obtain such a Vidyádharí? But Anangaprabhá lived at ease in that very town with Vijayavarman, free from restraint. Then, one day the king of that place, named Ságaravarman, mounted a female elephant and went out to roam round his city. And while the king was looking at that well-built city named after him, he came along the street where the house of Vijayavarman was. And Anangaprabhá, finding out that the king was coming that way, went up to the top of the house, out of curiosity to behold him. And, the moment she saw the king, she fell so desperately in love with him, that she insolently exclaimed to the elephant-driver--"Mahout, I never in my life have ridden on an elephant, so give me a ride on yours, and let me see how pleasant it is." When the elephant-driver heard this, he looked at the face of the king, and in the meanwhile the king beheld her, like the splendour of the moon fallen from heaven. And the king, drinking her in with insatiate eye like a partridge, having conceived the hope of gaining her, said to his elephant-driver--"Take the elephant near and comply with her wish, and without delay seat this moon-faced dame on the elephant." When the king said this, the elephant-driver at once brought that elephant close under the house. When Anangaprabhá saw that the elephant had come near, she immediately flung herself into the lap of the king Ságaravarman. How came it that, though at first she was averse to a husband, she now showed such an insatiable appetite for husbands? Surely her father's curse made her exhibit a great change of character. And she clasped the king round the neck, as if afraid of falling, and he, when his limbs were irrigated with the nectar of her touch, was much delighted. And the king quickly carried off to his own palace her, who had surrendered herself by an artifice, being desirous of being kissed. There he made that Vidyádharí enter his harem, and after she had told him her story, he made her his principal wife. And then that young Kshatriya, finding out that she had been carried off by the king, came and attacked the king's servants outside the palace, and there he left his corpse, not turning his back in fight, for brave men do not submit to insult on account of a woman. And it seemed as if he was carried off to the abode of the gods by the nymphs of heaven, saying--"What have you to do with this contemptible woman? Come to Nandana and court us." As for that Anangaprabhá, when she had come into the possession of the king Ságaravarman, she roamed no more, but remained faithful to him, as rivers are at rest in the bosom of the sea. And owing to the force of destiny, she thought herself fortunate in having obtained that husband, and he thought that his life was complete by his having obtained her for a wife. And in some days Anangaprabhá, the queen of that king Ságaravarman, became pregnant, and in due time gave birth to a son. And the king made a great feast on account of the birth of a noble son, and gave the boy the name of Samudravarman. And when that son attained his full stature, and became a young man distinguished for might, the king appointed him crown-prince. Then he brought to his court Kamalavatí the daughter of a certain king named Samaravarman, to be married to him. And when that son Samudravarman was married, the king, being impressed by his virtues, gave him his own kingdom. That brave son Samudravarman, being thoroughly acquainted with the duties of Kshatriyas, when he had obtained the kingdom, said to his father, bowing before him: "Father, give me leave to depart; I am setting out to conquer the regions. A lord of earth, that is not intent on conquest, is to be blamed as much as the effeminate husband of a woman. And in this world, only that fortune of kings is righteous and glorious, which is acquired by one's own strength after conquering the kingdoms. What is the use, father, of the sovereignty of those kings, who hold it merely for the sake of oppressing the poor? They devour their own subjects, ravenous like cats." [725] When he had said this, his father Ságaravarman replied, "Your rule, my boy, is young; so for the present secure that; no demerit or disgrace attaches to one who rules his subjects justly. And war is not meet for kings without considering their power; though, you my child, are a hero, and your army is numerous, still you ought not to rely upon the fortune of victory, which is fickle in fight." Though his father used these and similar arguments with him, the brave Samudravarman at last, with great difficulty, induced him to consent, and marched out to conquer the regions. And having conquered the regions in due course, and reduced the kings under his sway, he returned to his own city in possession of elephants, horses, gold, and other tributes. And there he humbly honoured the feet of his delighted parents with great jewels produced in various regions. And the glorious prince gave, by their orders, to the Bráhmans great gifts of elephants, horses, gold and jewels. Then he showered gold in such profusion upon suppliants and servants, that the only thing in the country devoid of wealth was the word poor, which had become without meaning. [726] The king Ságaravarman, dwelling with Anangaprabhá, when he beheld the glory of his son, considered that his objects in life had been accomplished. And the king, after spending those days in feasting, said to his son Samudravarman in the presence of the ministers--"I have accomplished, my son, what I had to accomplish in this birth; I have enjoyed the pleasures of rule, I have not experienced defeat from my enemies, and I have seen you in possession of sovereignty, what else does there remain for me to obtain? So I will retire to a holy bathing-place, while my body retains strength. For see, old age whispers at the root of my ear--'Since this body is perishable, why do you still remain in your house?'" Having said this, the king Ságaravarman, all whose ends were attained, went, though his son was opposed to it, to Prayága with his beloved. And Samudravarman escorted his father there, and, after returning to his own city, ruled it in accordance with the law. And the king Ságaravarman, accompanied by his wife Anangaprabhá, propitiated the god Siva in Prayága with asceticism. And at the end of the night, the god said to him in a dream--"I am pleased with this penance of yourself and your wife, so hear this--This Anangaprabhá and you, my son, are both of the Vidyádhara race, and to-morrow the curse will expire, and you will go to your own world." When the king heard that, he woke up, and Anangaprabhá too, who had seen a similar dream, and they told their dreams to one another. And then Anangaprabhá, delighted, said to the king--"My husband, I have now remembered all the history of my former birth; I am the daughter of Samara, a prince of the Vidyádharas, in the city of Vírapura, and my name has always been Anangaprabhá. And I came here owing to the curse of my father, having become a human being by the loss of my science, and I forgot my Vidyádharí nature. But now I have recovered consciousness of it." While she was saying this, her father Samara descended from heaven; and after he had been respectfully welcomed by the king Ságaravarman, he said to that daughter Anangaprabhá, who fell at his feet, "Come, daughter, receive these sciences, your curse is at an end. For you have endured in one birth the sorrows of eight births." [727] Saying this, he took her on his lap, and gave her back the sciences; then he said to the king Ságaravarman--"You are a prince of the Vidyádharas, named Madanaprabha, and I am by name Samara, and Anangaprabhá is my daughter. And long ago, when she ought to have been given in marriage, her hand was demanded by several suitors, but being intoxicated by her beauty, she did not desire any husband. Then she was asked in marriage by you, who were equal in merit, and very eager to marry her, but as fate would have it, she would not then accept even you. For that reason I cursed her, that she might go to the world of mortals. And you, being passionately in love with her, fixed your heart on Siva the giver of boons, and wished intently that she might be your wife in the world of mortals, and then you abandoned your Vidyádhara body by magic art. Then you became a man and she became your wife. Now return to your own world linked together." When Samara said this to Ságaravarman, he, remembering his birth, abandoned his body in the water of Prayága, [728] and immediately became Madanaprabha. And Anangaprabhá was rekindled with the brightness of her recovered science, and immediately becoming a Vidyádharí, gleamed with that very body, which underwent a heavenly change. And then Madanaprabha, being delighted, and Anangaprabhá also, feeling great passion stir in both their hearts at the sight of one another's heavenly bodies, and the auspicious Samara, king of the sky-goers, all flew up into the air, and went together to that city of the Vidyádharas, Vírapura. And there Samara immediately gave, with due rites, his daughter Anangaprabhá to the Vidyádhara king, Madanaprabha. And Madanaprabha went with that beloved, whose curse had been cancelled, to his own city, and there he dwelt at ease. "Thus divine beings fall by virtue of a curse, and owing to the consequences of their own wickedness, are incarnate in the world of men, and after reaping the fruit appropriate to their bad conduct, they again go to their own home on account of previously acquired merit." When Naraváhandadatta heard this tale from his minister Gomukha, he and Alankáravatí were delighted, and then he performed the duties of the day. CHAPTER LIII. Then, on the next day, Naraváhanadatta's friend Marubhúti said to him, when he was in the company of Alankáravatí--"See, king, this miserable dependent [729] of yours remains clothed with one garment of leather, with matted hair, thin and dirty, and never leaves the royal gate, day or night, in cold or heat; so why do you not shew him favour at last? For it is better that a little should be given in time, than much when it is too late; so have mercy on him before he dies." When Gomukha heard this, he said--"Marubhúti speaks well, but you, king, are not the least in fault in this matter; for until a suitor's guilt, which stands in his way, is removed, a king, even though disposed to give, cannot give; but when a man's guilt is effaced, a king gives, though strenuously dissuaded from doing so; this depends upon works in a previous state of existence. And à propos of this, I will tell you, O king, the story of Lakshadatta the king, and Labdhadatta the dependent; listen." Story of king Lakshadatta and his dependent Labdhadatta. [730] There was on the earth a city named Lakshapura. In it there lived a king named Lakshadatta, chief of generous men. He never knew how to give a petitioner less than a lac of coins, but he gave five lacs to any one with whom he conversed. As for the man with whom he was pleased, he lifted him out of poverty, for this reason his name was called Lakshadatta. A certain dependent named Labdhadatta stood day and night at his gate, with a piece of leather for his only loin-rag. He had matted hair, and he never left the king's gate for a second, day or night, in cold, rain, or heat, and the king saw him there. And, though he remained there long in misery, the king did not give him anything, though he was generous and compassionate. Then, one day the king went to a forest to hunt, and his dependent followed him with a staff in his hand. There, while the king seated on an elephant, armed with a bow, and followed by his army, slew tigers, bears, and deer, with showers of arrows, his dependent, going in front of him, alone on foot, slew with his staff many boars and deer. When the king saw his bravery, he thought in his heart--"It is wonderful that this man should be such a hero," but he did not give him anything. And the king, when he had finished his hunting, returned home to his city, to enjoy himself, but that dependent stood at his palace-gate as before. Once on a time, Lakshadatta went out to conquer a neighbouring king of the same family, and he had a terrible battle. And in the battle the dependent struck down in front of him many enemies, with blows from the end of his strong staff of acacia wood. And the king, after conquering his enemies, returned to his own city, and though he had seen the valour of his dependent, he gave him nothing. In this condition the dependent Labdhadatta remained, and many years passed over his head, while he supported himself with difficulty. And when the sixth year had come, king Lakshadatta happened to see him one day, and feeling pity for him, reflected--"Though he has been long afflicted, I have not as yet given him anything, so why should I not give him something in a disguised form, and so find out whether the guilt of this poor man has been effaced, or not, and whether even now Fortune will grant him a sight of her, or not." Thus reflecting, the king deliberately entered his treasury, and filled a citron with jewels, as if it were a casket. And he held an assembly of all his subjects, having appointed a meeting outside his palace, and there entered the assembly all his citizens, chiefs, and ministers. And when the dependent entered among them, the king said to him with an affectionate voice, "Come here;" then the dependent, on hearing this, was delighted, and coming near, he sat in front of the king. Then the king said to him--"Utter some composition of your own." Then the dependent recited the following Áryá verse--"Fortune ever replenishes the full man, as all the streams replenish the sea, but she never even comes within the range of the eyes of the poor." When the king had heard this, and had made him recite it again, he was pleased, and gave him the citron full of valuable jewels. And the people said, "This king puts a stop to the poverty of every one with whom he is pleased; so this dependent is to be pitied, since this very king, though pleased with him, after summoning him politely, has given him nothing but this citron; a wishing-tree, in the case of ill-starred men, often becomes a palása-tree." [731] These were the words which all in the assembly said to one another in their despondency, when they saw that, for they did not know the truth. But the dependent went out, with the citron in his hand, and when he was in a state of despondency, a mendicant came before him. And that mendicant, named Rájavandin, seeing that the citron was a fine one, obtained it from that dependent by giving him a garment. And then the mendicant entered the assembly, and gave that fruit to the king, and the king, recognizing it, said to that hermit, [732] "Where, reverend sir, did you procure this citron." Then he told the king that the dependent had given it to him. Then the king was grieved and astonished, reflecting that his guilt was not expiated even now. The king Lakshadatta took the citron, rose up from the assembly, and performed the duties of the day. And the dependent sold the garment, and after he had eaten and drunk, remained at his usual post at the king's gate. And on the second day the king held a general assembly, and everybody appeared at it again, citizens and all. And the king, seeing that the dependent had entered the assembly, called him as before, and made him sit near him. And after making him again recite that very same Áryá verse, being pleased, he gave him that very same citron with jewels concealed in it. And all there thought with astonishment--"Ah! this is the second time that our master is pleased with him without his gaining by it. And the dependent, in despondency, took the citron in his hand, and thinking that the king's good will had again been barren of results, went out. At that very moment a certain official met him, who was about to enter that assembly, wishing to see the king. He, when he saw that citron, took a fancy to it, and regarding the omen, procured it from the dependent by giving him a pair of garments. And entering the king's court, he fell at the feet of the sovereign, and first gave him the citron, and then another present of his own. And when the king recognised the fruit, he asked the official where he got it, and he replied--"From the dependent." And the king, thinking in his heart that Fortune would not even now give the dependent a sight of her, was exceedingly sad. [733] And he rose up from the assembly with that citron, and the dependent went to the market with the pair of garments he had got. And by selling one garment he procured meat and drink, and tearing the other in half he made two of it. Then on the third day also the king held a general assembly, and all the subjects entered, as before, and when the dependent entered, the king gave him the same citron again, after calling him and making him recite the Áryá verse. Then all were astonished, and the dependent went out, and gave that citron to the king's mistress. And she, like a moving creeper of the tree of the king's regard, gave him gold, which was, so to speak, the flower, the harbinger of the fruit. The dependent sold it, and enjoyed himself that day, and the king's mistress went into his presence. And she gave him that citron, which was large and fine, and he, recognising it, asked her whence she procured it. Then she said--"The dependent gave it me." Hearing that, the king thought, "Fortune has not yet looked favourably upon him; his merit in a former life must have been slight, since he does not know that my favour is never barren of results. And so these splendid jewels come back to me again and again." Thus the king reflected, and he took that citron, and put it away safely, and rose up and performed the duties of the day. And on the fourth day the king held an assembly in the same way, and it was filled with all his subjects, feudatories, ministers and all. And the dependent came there again, and again the king made him sit in front of him, and when he bowed before him, the king made him recite the Áryá verse: and gave him the citron, and when the dependent had half got hold of it, he suddenly let it go, and the citron fell on the ground and broke in half. And as the joining of the citron, which kept it together, was broken, there rolled out of it many valuable jewels, illuminating that place of assembly. All the people, when they saw it, said, "Ah! we were deluded and mistaken, as we did not know the real state of the case, but such is the nature of the king's favour." When the king heard that, he said--"By this artifice I endeavoured to ascertain, whether Fortune would now look on him or not. But for three days his guilt was not effaced; now it is effaced, and for that reason Fortune has now granted him a sight of herself." After the king had said this, he gave the dependent those jewels, and also villages, elephants, horses and gold, and made him a feudal chief. And he rose up from that assembly, in which the people applauded, and went to bathe; and that dependent too, having obtained his ends, went to his own dwelling. So true is it that, until a servant's guilt is effaced, he cannot obtain the favour of his master; even by going through hundreds of hardships. When Gomukha the prime-minister had told this tale, he again said to his master Naraváhanadatta; "So, king, I know that even now the guilt of that dependent of yours is not expiated, since even now you are not pleased with him." When the son of the king of Vatsa heard this speech of Gomukha's, he said, "Ha! good!" and he immediately gave to his own dependent, who was named Kárpatika, a number of villages, elephants and horses, a crore of gold pieces, and excellent garments, and ornaments. Then that dependent, who had attained prosperity, became like a king; how can the attendance on a grateful king, who has excellent courtiers, be void of fruit. When Naraváhanadatta was thus employed, there came one day, to take service with him, a young Bráhman from the Dekhan, named Pralambabáhu. That hero said to the prince: "I have come to your feet, my sovereign, attracted by your renown; and I on foot will never leave your company for a step, as long as you travel on the earth with elephants, horses, and chariots; but in the air I cannot go; I say this because it is rumoured that my lord will one day be emperor of the Vidyádharas. A hundred gold pieces should be given to me every day as salary." When that Bráhman, who was really of incomparable might, said this, Naraváhanadatta gave him this salary. And thereupon Gomukha said--"My lord, kings have such servants: à propos of this, hear this story." Story of the Bráhman Víravara. [734] There is in this country a great and splendid city of the name of Vikramapura. In it there lived long ago a king named Vikramatunga. He was distinguished for statesmanship, and though his sword was sharp, his rod of justice was not so; and he was always intent on righteousness, but not on women, hunting, and so forth. And while he was king, the only atoms of wickedness were the atoms of earth in the dust, the only departure from virtue was the loosing of arrows from the string, the only straying from justice was the wandering of sheep in the folds of the keepers of cattle. [735] Once on a time a heroic and handsome Bráhman, from the country of Málava, named Víravara, came there to take service under that king; he had a wife named Dharmavatí, a daughter named Víravatí, and a son named Sattvavara; these three constituted his family; and his attendants consisted of another three: at his hip a dagger, in one hand a sword, and in the other a polished shield. Though he had such a small following, he demanded from that king five hundred dínárs every day by way of salary. And the king gave him that salary, perceiving his courage, and thinking to himself, "I will make trial of his excellence." And the king set spies on him, to find out what this man, with only two arms, would do with so many dínárs. And Víravara, every day, gave his wife a hundred of those dínárs for food and other purposes; and with another hundred he bought clothes, and garlands, and so on; and he appointed a third hundred, after bathing, for the worship of Vishnu and Siva; and the remaining two hundred he gave to Bráhmans, the poor and so on; and so he expended every day the whole five hundred. And he stood at the palace-gate of the king for the first half of the day, and after he had performed his daily prayers and other duties, he came back and remained there at night also. The spies reported to the king continually that daily practice of his, and then the king, being satisfied, ordered those spies to desist from observing him. And Víravara remained day and night at the gate of the king's palace, sword in hand, excepting only the time set apart for bathing and matters of that kind. Then there came a collection of clouds, bellowing terribly, as if determined to conquer that Víravara, being impatient of his valour. And then, though the cloud rained a terrible arrow-shower of drops, Víravara stood like a column and did not leave the palace-gate. And the king Vikramatunga, having beheld him from the palace in this position, went up to the roof of the palace at night to try him again. And he called out from above--"Who waits at the palace-gate?" And Víravara, when he heard that, answered--"I am here." The king hearing this, thought--"Surely this brave man deserves high rank, for he does not leave the palace-gate, though such a cloud is raining." While engaged in these reflections, the king heard a woman weeping bitterly in the distance; and he thought--"There is not an afflicted person in my dominions, so why does she weep?" Thereupon he said to Víravara, "Hark, Víravara, there is some woman weeping at some distance from this place, so go, and find out who she is, and what is her sorrow." When Víravara heard that, he set out, brandishing his sword, with his dagger at his side. Then the king, seeing that he had set out when such a cloud was blazing with lightning, and when the interval between heaven and earth [736] was full of descending drops of rain, being moved with curiosity and pity, came down from the roof of his palace, and set out behind him, sword in hand, unobserved. And Víravara, going in the direction of the wailing, [737] followed unperceived by the king, reached a lake outside the city. And he saw a woman lamenting in the midst of it; "Ah lord! Ah merciful one! Ah hero! How shall I exist abandoned by thee?" He asked her; "Who are you, and what lord do you lament?" Then she said; "My son, know that I am this earth. At present Vikramatunga is my righteous lord, and his death will certainly take place on the third day from now. And how shall I obtain such a lord again? For with divine foresight I behold the good and evil to come, as Suprabha, the son of a god, did, when in heaven." Story of Suprabha. For he, possessing divine foresight, foresaw that in seven days he would fall from heaven on account of the exhaustion of his merits, and be conceived in the body of a sow. Then that son of a god, reflecting on the misery of dwelling in the body of a sow, regretted with himself those heavenly enjoyments: "Alas for heaven! Alas for the Apsarases! Alas for the arbours of Nandana! Alas! how shall I live in the body of a sow, and after that in the mire?" When the king of the gods heard him indulging in these lamentations, he came to him, and questioned him, and that son of a god told him the cause of his grief. Then Indra said to him, "Listen, there is a way out of this difficulty open to you. Have recourse to Siva as a protector, exclaiming 'Om! Honour to Siva!' If you resort to him as a protector, you shall escape from your guilt and obtain merit, so that you shall not be born in the body of a pig nor fall from heaven." When the king of the gods said this to Suprabha, he followed his advice, and exclaiming "Om! Honour to Siva!" he fled to Siva as an asylum. After remaining wholly intent on him for six days, he not only by his favour escaped being sent into the body of a pig, but went to an abode of bliss higher than Svarga. And on the seventh day, when Indra, not seeing him in heaven, looked about, he found he had gone to another and a superior world. "As Suprabha lamented, beholding pollution impending, so I lament, beholding the impending death of the king." When Earth said this, Víravara answered her:--"If there is any expedient for rescuing this king, as there was an expedient for rescuing Suprabha in accordance with the advice of Indra, pray tell it me." When Earth was thus addressed by Víravara, she answered him: "There is an expedient in this case, and it is in your hands." When the Bráhman Víravara heard this, he said joyfully-- [738] "Then tell me, goddess, quickly; if my lord can be benefited by the sacrifice of my life, or of my son or wife, my birth is not wasted." When Víravara said this, Earth answered him--"There is here an image of Durgá near the palace; if you offer to that image your son Sattvavara, then the king will live, but there is no other expedient for saving his life." When the resolute Víravara heard this speech of the goddess Earth, he said--"I will go, lady, and do it immediately." And Earth said "What other man is so devoted to his lord? Go, and prosper." And the king, who followed him, heard all. Then Víravara went quickly to his house that night, and the king followed him unobserved. There he woke up his wife Dharmavatí and told her, that, by the counsel of the goddess Earth, he must offer up his son for the sake of the king. She, when she heard it, said--"We must certainly do what is for the advantage of the king; so wake up our son and tell him." Then Víravara woke up his son, and told him all that the goddess Earth had told him, as being for the interest of the king, down to the necessity of his own sacrifice. When the child Sattvavara heard this, he, being rightly named, said to his father, [739] "Am I not fortunate, my father, in that my life can profit the king? I must requite him for his food which I have eaten; so take me and sacrifice me to the goddess for his sake." When the boy Sattvavara said this, Víravara answered him undismayed, "In truth you are my own son." When king Vikramatunga, who was standing outside, heard this, he said to himself--"Ah! the members of this family are all equally brave." Then Víravara took that son Sattvavara on his shoulder, and his wife Dharmavatí took his daughter Víravatí on her back, and the two went to the temple of Durgá by night. And the king Vikramatunga followed them, carefully concealing himself. When they reached the temple, Sattvavara was put down by his father from his shoulder, and, though he was a boy, being a store-house of courage, he bowed before the goddess, and addressed this petition to her: "Goddess, may our lord's life be saved by the offering of my head! And may the king Vikramatunga rule the earth without an enemy to oppose him!" When the boy said this, Víravara exclaimed, "Bravo! my son!" And drawing his sword, he cut off his son's head, and offered it to the goddess Durgá, saying, "May the king be prosperous!" Those who are devoted to their master grudge them neither their sons' lives nor their own. Then a voice was heard from heaven, saying, "Bravo, Víravara! you have bestowed life on your master by sacrificing even the life of your son." Then, while the king was seeing and hearing with great astonishment all that went on, the daughter of Víravara, named Víravatí, who was a mere girl, came up to the head of her slain brother, and embraced it, and kissed it, and crying out "Alas! my brother!" died of a broken heart. When Víravara's wife, Dharmavatí, saw that her daughter also was dead, in her grief she clasped her hands together, and said to Víravara; "We have now ensured the prosperity of the king, so permit me to enter the fire with my two dead children. Since my infant daughter, though too young to understand anything, has died out of grief for her brother, what is the use of my life, my two children being dead?" When she spoke with this settled purpose, Víravara said to her; "Do so, what can I say against it? For, blameless one, there remains no happiness for you in a world, which will be all filled for you with grief for your two children; so wait a moment while I prepare the funeral pyre." Having said this, he constructed a pyre with some wood, that was lying there to make the fence of the enclosure of the goddess's temple, and put the corpses of his children upon it, and lit a fire under it, so that it was enveloped in flames. Then his virtuous wife, Dharmavatí, fell at his feet, and exclaiming, "May you, my husband, be my lord in my next birth, and may prosperity befall the king!" she leapt into that burning pyre, with its hair of flame, as gladly as into a cool lake. And king Vikramatunga, who was standing by unperceived, remained fixed in thought as to how he could possibly recompense them. Then Víravara, of resolute soul, reflected--"I have accomplished my duty to my master, for a divine voice was heard audibly, and so I have requited him for the food which I have eaten, but now that I have lost all the dear family I had to support, [740] it is not meet that I should live alone, supporting myself only, so why should I not propitiate this goddess Durgá by offering up myself?" Víravara, firm in virtue, having formed this determination, first approached with a hymn of praise that goddess Durgá, the granter of boons. "Honour to thee, O great goddess, that givest security to thy votaries, rescue me plunged in the mire of the world, that appeal to thee for protection. Thou art the principle of life in creatures, by thee this world moves. In the beginning of creation Siva beheld thee self-produced, blazing and illuminating the world with brightness hard to behold, like ten million orbs of fiery suddenly-produced infant suns rising at once, filling the whole horizon with the circle of thy arms, bearing a sword, a club, a bow, arrows and a spear. And thou wast praised by that god Siva in the following words--'Hail to thee Chandí, Chámundá, Mangalá, Tripurá, Jayá, Ekánansá, Sivá, Durgá, Náráyaní, Sarasvatí, Bhadrakálí, Mahálakshmí, Siddhá, slayer of Ruru. Thou art Gáyatrí, Mahárájní, Revatí, and the dweller in the Vindhya hills; thou art Umá and Kátyáyaní, and the dweller in Kailása, the mountain of Siva.' When Skandha, and Vasishta, and Brahmá, and the others heard thee praised, under these and other titles, by Siva well skilled in praising, they also praised thee. And by praising thee, O adorable one, immortals, rishis, and men obtained, and do now obtain, boons above their desire. So be favourable to me, O bestower of boons and do thou also receive this tribute of the sacrifice of my body, and may prosperity befall my lord the king!" After saying this, he was preparing to cut off his own head, [741] but a bodiless voice was heard at that moment from the air, "Do not act rashly, my son, for I am well-pleased with this courage of thine, so crave from me the boon that thou dost desire." When Víravara heard that, he said, "If thou art pleased, goddess, then may king Vikramatunga live another hundred years. And may my wife and children return to life." When he craved this boon, there again sounded from the air the words "So be it!" And immediately the three, Dharmavatí, Sattvavara, and Víravatí rose up with unwounded bodies. Then Víravara was delighted, and took home to his house all those who had been thus restored to life by the favour of the goddess, and returned to the king's gate. But the king, having beheld all this with joy and astonishment, went and again ascended the roof of his palace unobserved. And he cried out from above--"Who is on guard at the palace-gate?" When Víravara, who was below, heard that, he answered--"I am here, and I went to discover that woman, but she vanished somewhere as soon as I saw her, like a goddess." When king Vikramatunga heard this, as he had seen the whole transaction, which was exceedingly wonderful, he reflected with himself alone in the night: "Oh! surely this man is an unheard of marvel of heroism, to perform such an exceedingly meritorious action, and not to give any account of it. The sea, though deep, and broad, and full of great monsters, [742] does not vie with this man, who is firm even in the shock of a mighty tempest. What return can I make to him, who secretly redeemed my life this night by the sacrifice of his son and wife?" Thus reflecting, the king descended from the roof of the palace, and went into his private apartments, and passed that night in smiling. And in the morning, when Víravara was present in the great assembly, he related his wonderful exploit that night. Then all praised that Víravara, and the king conferred on him and his son a turban of honour. And he gave him many domains, horses, jewels, and elephants, and ten crores of gold pieces, and a salary sixty times as great as before. And immediately the Bráhman Víravara became equal to a king, with a lofty umbrella, being prosperous, himself and his family. When the minister Gomukha had told this tale, he again said to Naraváhanadatta, summing up the subject--"Thus, king, do sovereigns, by their merit in a previous life, sometimes fall in with exceptionally heroic servants, who, in their nobility of soul, abandoning regard for their lives and all other possessions for the sake of their master, conquer completely the two worlds. And Pralambabáhu, this lately arrived heroic Bráhman servant of yours, my king, is seen to be such, of settled virtue and character, a man in whom the quality of goodness is ever on the increase." When the noble-minded prince Naraváhanadatta heard this from his minister, the mighty-minded Gomukha, he felt unsurpassed satisfaction in his heart. CHAPTER LIV. Thus Naraváhanadatta dwelt in the house of his father the king of Vatsa, being attended by his affectionate ministers, Gomukha and the others, and amusing himself with his loving queen Alankáravatí, whose jealousy was removed by her great love, that refused to be hampered by female pride. Then, once on a time, he went to a forest of wild beasts, mounted on a chariot, with Gomukha seated behind him. And, with that heroic Bráhman Pralambabáhu going in front of him, he indulged in silvan sports, accompanied by his attendants. And though the horses of his chariot galloped at the utmost of their speed, Pralambabáhu outstripped their swiftness, and still kept in front of them. The prince from his position on the chariot killed lions, and tigers, and other wild beasts with arrows, but Pralambabáhu, going on foot, slew them with his sword. And Naraváhanadatta, as often as he beheld that Bráhman, said in astonishment--"What courage, and what fleetness of foot he possesses!" And the prince, being wearied at the end of his hunting, and overcome with thirst, went in search of water, mounted on his chariot, with Gomukha and his charioteer, and preceded by that champion Pralambabáhu, and in the course of his search he reached another great forest far distant. There he came to a great and charming lake with full-blown golden lotuses, looking like a second sky on earth, studded with many solar orbs. There he bathed and drank water, and, after he and his companions had performed their ablutions and other duties, he beheld at one end of the lake, at a distance, four men of heavenly appearance, dressed in heavenly garments, adorned with heavenly ornaments, engaged in culling golden lotuses from that lake. And out of curiosity he approached them, and when they asked him who he was, he told them his descent, his name and his history. And they, pleased at seeing him, told him their story when he asked them; "There is in the midst of the great sea a great, prosperous and splendid island, which is called the island of Nárikela, and is renowned in the world for its beauty. [743] And in it there are four mountains with splendid expanses of land, named Maináka, Vrishabha, Chakra, and Baláhaka, in those four we four live. One of us is named Rúpasiddhi, and he possesses the power of assuming various forms; another is by name Pramánasiddhi, who can measure the most minute as well as the largest things; and the third is Jnánasiddhi, who knows the past, the present, and the future; and the fourth is Devasiddhi, who possesses the power of calling down to his aid all the deities. We have now gathered these golden lotuses, and are going to offer them to the god, the husband of Srí, in Svetadvípa. For we are all of us devoted to him, and it is by his favour that we possess rule over those mountains of ours, and prosperity accompanied with supernatural power. So come, we will shew you the lord Hari in Svetadvípa; we will carry you through the air, friend, if you approve." When those sons of gods said this, Naraváhanadatta consented, and leaving Gomukha and the others in that place, where they could obtain water, fruits and so on, he went with them to Svetadvípa through the air, for Devasiddhi, one of the four brothers, carried him in his lap. There he descended from heaven, and beheld Vishnu, and approached him from a distance, introduced by those four sons of gods. The god was reclining upon the snake Sesha, in front of him sat Garuda, at his side was the daughter of the sea, [744] at his feet was the Earth, he was waited upon by the discus, the conch, the club, and the lotus, incarnate in bodily form, and the Gandharvas, with Nárada at their head, were piously chanting hymns in his honour, and the gods, Siddhas, and Vidyádharas were bowing before him. To whom is not association with the good a cause of exaltation? Then, after that Lord had been honoured by those sons of gods, and praised by Kasyapa and others, Naraváhanadatta thus praised him with folded hands, "All hail to thee, venerable one, the wishing-tree of thy worshippers, whose body is encircled with the wish-granting creeper of Lakshmí, who art the granter of all desires; hail to thee, the divine swan, dwelling in the Mánasa-lake of the minds of the good, [745] ever soaring and singing in the highest ether. Hail to thee, who dost transcend all, and dwell within all, who hast a form transcending qualities, and whose shape is the full aggregate of the six kingly measures; [746] Brahmá is the bee on the lotus of thy navel, O Lord, humming with the soft sound of Veda-murmur, though from him spring many verses; [747] thy foot is the earth, the heaven is thy head, the cardinal points are thy ears, the sun and moon are thy eyes; thy belly is the egg of Brahmá, the globe of the world; thou art hymned by the wise as the infinite soul. From thee, the home of brightness, spring all these creatures, O Lord, as the host of sparks from the blazing fire, and when the time of destruction comes, they again enter thy essence, as at the end of the day a flock of birds enters the great tree in which they dwell. Thou flashest forth, and createst these lords of the world, who are parts of thee, as the ocean, disturbed with a continual flow, creates waves. Though the world is thy form, thou art formless; though the world is thy handiwork, thou art free from the bondage of works; though thou art the support of the world, thou art thyself without support; who is he that knows thy real nature? The gods have obtained various stages of prosperity by being looked upon by thee with a favourable eye; so be propitious, and look upon me, thy suppliant, with an eye melting with love." When Naraváhanadatta had in these words praised Vishnu, the god looked upon him with a favourable eye, and said to Nárada: "Go and demand back from Indra in my name those lovely Apsarases of mine, who long ago sprang from the sea of milk, and whom I deposited in his hand, and make them mount the chariot of Indra, and quickly bring them here." When Nárada received this command from Hari, he said "So be it," and with Mátali he brought the Apsarases from Indra in his chariot, and then bowing he presented the Apsarases to Vishnu, and the Holy one spake thus to the son of the king of Vatsa--"Naraváhanadatta, I give these Apsarases to thee, the future emperor of the kings of the Vidyádharas. Thou art a fitting husband for them, and they are fitting wives for thee, for thou hast been created by Siva as an incarnation of the god of Love." When Vishnu said that, the son of the king of Vatsa fell at his feet, delighted at having obtained favour, and Vishnu thus commanded Mátali,--"Let this Naraváhanadatta, together with the Apsarases, be taken back by thee to his palace, by whatever path he desires." When the Holy one gave this command, Naraváhanadatta, with the Apsarases and those sons of gods who invited him, mounted the chariot which was driven by Mátali, and went to the island of Nárikela, being envied even by gods. There the successful hero, honoured by those four sons of gods, Rúpasiddhi and his brethren, and accompanied by Indra's chariot, sported in succession on those four mountains on which they dwelt, Maináka, Vrishabha, and the others, that vied with heaven, in the company of those Apsarases. And he roamed, full of joy, in the thickets of their pleasure-grounds, the various splendid trees of which were in blossom on account of the arrival of the month of spring. And those sons of gods said to him: "See! these clusters on the trees seem to be regarding with the expanded eyes of their open flowers their beloved spring that has arrived. See! the full-blown lotuses shield the lake, as if to prevent their place of birth from being afflicted by the warmth of the sun's rays. See! the bees, after resorting to a Karnikára splendid with blossoms, leave it again, finding it destitute of perfume, as good men leave a rich man of mean character. See! a concert is being held in honour of spring, the king of the seasons, with the songs of the Kinnarís, the notes of the cuckoos, and the humming of bees." With such words those sons of gods shewed Naraváhanadatta the range of their pleasure-grounds. And the son of the king of Vatsa amused himself also in their cities, beholding the merry-makings of the citizens, who danced without restraint in honour of the spring-festival. And he enjoyed with the Apsarases delights fitted for gods; wherever the virtuous go, their good fortunes precede them. After remaining there for four days thus occupied, Naraváhanadatta said to those sons of gods his friends; "I now wish to go to my own city, being anxious to behold my father; [748] so come you also to that city and bless it with a visit." When they heard that, they said: "We have seen you, the choicest jewel in that town; what more do we require? But when you have obtained the sciences of the Vidyádharas, you must not forget us." With these words they dismissed him, and Naraváhanadatta said to Mátali, who brought him the splendid chariot of Indra; "Take me to the city of Kausámbí by a course leading past that lovely lake, on the bank of which I left Gomukha and the others." Mátali consented, and the prince ascended the chariot with the Apsarases, and reached that lake, and saw Gomukha and the others, and said to them, "Come quickly by your own way, I will tell you all when I get home." Having said this, he went to Kausámbí in the chariot of Indra. There he descended from heaven, and dismissed Mátali after honouring him, and entered his own palace accompanied by those Apsarases. And leaving them there, he went and prostrated himself before the feet of his father, who was delighted at his arrival, and also of Vásavadattá and Padmávatí, and they welcomed him, and their eyes were never satisfied with gazing on him. And in the meanwhile Gomukha came, riding on the chariot, with the charioteer, and that Bráhman Pralambabáhu. Then, being questioned by his father, Naraváhanadatta related in the presence of all his ministers his very wonderful adventures. And all said--"God grants to that virtuous man, whom he wishes to favour, association with good friends." When all said this, the king was pleased, and ordered a festival for his son on account of the favour which Vishnu had shewed towards him. And he and his wives saw those Apsarases his daughters-in-law, obtained by the favour of Vishnu, whom Gomukha brought to fall at his feet, Devarupá, and Devarati, and Devamálá, and the fourth Devapriyá, whose names he enquired by the mouth of their maids. And the city of Kausámbí, making festival, appeared as if scattering red paint with its waving scarlet banners, as much as to say: "What am I that Apsarases should dwell in me? Blessed am I that the prince Naraváhanadatta has made me a heavenly city upon earth." And Naraváhanadatta, after he had rejoiced the eyes of his father, visited his other wives, who were anxiously awaiting him, and they, who had been emaciated by those four days, as if they were four years, exulted, relating the various woes of their separation. And Gomukha described the valour of Pralambabáhu, while he was protecting the horses during their sojourn in the forest, in killing lions and other noxious beasts. Thus listening to pleasing unrestrained conversation, and contemplating the beauty of his beloved ones, that was as nectar to his eyes, and making flattering speeches, and drinking wine in the company of his ministers, Naraváhanadatta passed that time there in happiness. Once on a time, as he was in the apartments of Alankáravatí with his ministers, he heard a loud sound of drums outside. Then he said to his general Harisikha: "What may be the cause of this sudden great noise of drums outside?" When Harisikha heard this, he went out, and entering again immediately said to the prince, the son of the king of Vatsa; "There is in this town a merchant of the name of Rudra, and he went to the island of Suvarnadvípa on a mercantile expedition. As he was returning, the hoard of wealth, that he had managed to acquire, was lost, being sunk in the sea by his ship foundering. And he himself happened to escape from the sea alive. And to-day is the sixth day since he arrived in misery at his own house. After he had been living here for some days in distress, it happened that he found a great treasure in his garden. And the king of Vatsa heard of it from his relations, so the merchant came to-day and represented the matter to the king; saying--'I have obtained four crores of gold pieces with a multitude of valuable jewels, so, if the king commands me, I will hand them over.' The king of Vatsa thereupon gave this command to the merchant--'Who that had any sense, [749] after seeing you in distress, plundered by the sea, would plunder you again, now that you have been supplied with wealth by the mercy of Providence. Go and enjoy at will the wealth obtained from your own ground.' The merchant fell at the king's feet full of joy, and it is this very man that is now returning to his house, with his attendants beating drums." When Harisikha said this, Naraváhanadatta praised the justice of his father, and said in astonishment to his ministers--"If Destiny sometimes takes away wealth, does she not sometimes afterwards give it. She sports in a strange way with the raising and depressing of men." When Gomukha heard that, he said--"Such is the course of Destiny! And in proof of this, hear the story of Samudrasúra." Story of the merchant Samudrasúra. In old times there was a splendid city, belonging to the king Harshavarman, called Harshapura, the citizens of which were made happy by good government. In this city there was a great merchant, named Samudrasúra; he was of good family, just, of resolute courage, a lord of much wealth. He was once compelled by his business to go to Suvarnadvípa, and reaching the shore of the sea, he embarked on a ship. As he was travelling over the sea, when his journey was very nearly at an end, a terrible cloud arose and a wind that agitated the deep. The wind tossed the ship about with the violence of the waves, and it was struck by a sea-monster and split asunder; and then the merchant, girding up his loins, plunged into the sea. And after the brave man had made some way by swimming, he found the corpse of a man long dead, driven hither and thither by the wind. And he climbed up on the corpse, and skilfully paddling himself along with his arms, he was carried to Suvarnadvípa by a favourable wind. There he got off that corpse on to the sand, and he perceived that it had a cloth tied round its loins, with a knot in it. When he unfastened the cloth from its loins, and examined it, he found inside it a necklace richly studded with jewels. He saw that it was of inestimable value, and he bathed and remained in a state of great felicity, thinking that the wealth he had lost in the sea was but straw in comparison with it. Then he went on to a city called Kalasapura, and with the bracelet in his hand, entered the enclosure of a great temple. There he sat in the shade, and being exceedingly tired with his exertions in the water, he slowly dropped off to sleep, bewildered by Destiny. And while he was asleep, the policemen came and saw that necklace in his hand exposed to view. They said--"Here is the necklace stolen from the neck of the princess Chakrasená; without doubt this is the thief." And so they woke the merchant up and took him to the palace. There the king himself questioned him, and he told him what had taken place. The king held out the necklace, and said to the people present in court,--"This man is speaking falsely; he is a thief, look at this necklace." And at that very moment a kite saw it glittering, and quickly swooping down from heaven, carried off the necklace, and disappeared where he could not be traced. Then the king, in his anger, commanded that the merchant should be put to death, and he, in great grief, invoked the protection of Siva. Then a voice was heard from heaven--"Do not put this man to death: he is a respectable merchant named Samudrasúra from the city of Harshapura, that has landed on your territory. The thief, who stole the necklace, fled, beside himself with fear of the police, and falling into the sea at night, perished. But this merchant here, when his ship foundered, came upon the body of that thief, and climbing up on it, he crossed the sea and came here. And then he found the necklace in the knot of the cloth fastened round his loins; he did not take it from your house. So let go, king, this virtuous merchant, who is not a thief; dismiss him with honour." Having said this, the voice ceased. When the king heard this, he was satisfied, and revoking the capital sentence passed on the merchant, he honoured him with wealth, and let him go. And the merchant, having obtained wealth, bought wares, and again crossed the terrible ocean in a ship, in order to return to his own native land. And after he had crossed the sea, he travelled with a caravan, and one day, at evening time, he reached a wood. The caravan encamped in the wood for the night, and while Samudrasúra was awake, a powerful host of bandits attacked it. While the bandits were massacring the members of the caravan, Samudrasúra left his wares and fled, and climbed up a banyan-tree without being discovered. The host of bandits departed, after they had carried off all the wealth, and the merchant spent that night there, perplexed with fear, and distracted with grief. In the morning he cast his eye towards the top of the tree, and saw, as fate would have it, what looked like the light of a lamp, trembling among the leaves. And in his astonishment he climbed up the tree, and saw a kite's nest, in which there was a heap of glittering priceless jewelled ornaments. He took them all out of it, and found among the ornaments that necklace, which he had found in Svarnadvípa and the kite had carried off. He obtained from that nest unlimited wealth, and, descending from the tree, he went off delighted, and reached in course of time his own city of Harshapura. There the merchant Samudrasúra remained, enjoying himself to his heart's content with his family, free from the desire of any other wealth. "So you have that merchant's whelming in the sea, and that loss of his wealth, and the finding of the necklace, and again the losing of it, and his undeserved degradation to the position of a malefactor, and his immediate obtaining of wealth from the satisfied king, and his return-voyage over the sea, and his being stripped of all his wealth by falling in with bandits on the journey, and at last his acquisition of wealth from the top of a tree. So you see, prince, such is the various working of destiny, but a virtuous man, though he may have endured sorrow, obtains joy at the last." When Naraváhanadatta heard this from Gomukha, he approved it, and rising up, he performed his daily duties, such as bathing and the like. And the next day, when he was in the hall of assembly, the heroic prince Samaratunga, who had been his servant ever since he was a boy, came and said to him--"Prince, my relation Sangrámarvarsha has ravaged my territory, with the help of his four sons, Vírajita and the others. So I will go myself, and bring them all five here as prisoners. Let my lord know this." After saying this he departed. And the son of the king of Vatsa, knowing that he had but a small force, and that those others had large forces, ordered his own army to follow him. But that proud man refused to receive this accession to his force, and went and conquered those five enemies in fight by the help of his own two arms only, and brought them back prisoners. Naraváhanadatta honoured and praised his follower, when he came back victorious, and said--"How wonderful! This man has conquered his five enemies, though with their forces they had overrun his territory, and has done the deed of a hero, as a man conquers the senses, when they have laid hold upon outward objects, and are powerful, and so accomplishes emancipation, the work of the soul." [750] When Gomukha heard that, he said--"If, prince, you have not heard the tale of king Chamarabála, which is similar, listen, I will tell it." Story of king Chamarabála. There is a city named Hastinápura, and in it there lived a king named Chamarabála, who possessed treasure, a fort, and an army. And he had, as neighbours to his territory, several kings of the same family as himself, the chief of whom was Samarabála, and they put their heads together and reflected: "This king Chamarabála defeats us all, one by one; so we will join together and accomplish his overthrow." After thus deliberating, those five kings' being anxious to march out against him to conquer him, secretly asked an astrologer when a favourable moment would come. The astrologer, not seeing a favourable moment, and not seeing good omens, said--"There is no favourable moment for you this year. Under whatever circumstances you set out on your expedition, you will not be victorious. And why are you so eager for the undertaking, beholding his prosperity? Enjoyment is after all the fruit [751] of prosperity, and you have enjoyments in abundance. And now hear, if you have not heard it before, the story of the two merchants." Story of Yasovarman and the two fortunes. There was in old time in this country a city, named Kautukapura. In it there lived a king, called Bahusuvarnaka, [752] rightly named. And he had a young Kshatriya servant named Yasovarman. To that man the king never gave anything, though he was generous by nature. Whenever in his distress he asked the king, the king said to him, pointing to the sun, "I wish to give to you, but this holy god will not permit me to give to you. Tell me what I am to do." While he remained distressed, watching for an opportunity, the time for an eclipse of the sun arrived. Then Yasovarman, who had constantly served the king, went and said to him, when he was engaged in giving many valuable presents: "Give me something, my sovereign, while this sun, who will not permit you to give, is in the grasp of his enemy." When the king, who had given many presents, heard that, he laughed, and gave garments, gold, and other things to him. In course of time that wealth was consumed, and he, being afflicted, as the king gave him nothing, and having lost his wife, went to the shrine of the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya hills. [753] He said--"What is the use of this profitless body that is dead even while alive? I will abandon it before the shrine of the goddess, or gain the desired boon." Resolved on this course, he lay down on a bed of darbha grass in front of the goddess, with his mind intent on her, and fasting he performed a severe penance. And the goddess said to him in a dream, "I am pleased with thee, my son; tell me, shall I give thee the good fortune of wealth, or the good fortune of enjoyment?" When Yasovarman heard this, he answered the goddess, "I do not precisely know the difference between these two good fortunes." Then the goddess said to him: "Return to thy own country, and there go and examine into the good fortunes of the two merchants, Arthavarman and Bhogavarman, and find out which of the two pleases thee, and then come here and ask a like fortune for thyself." When Yasovarman heard this, he woke up, and next morning he broke his fast, and went to his own country of Kautukapura. There he first went to the house of Arthavarman, [754] who had acquired much wealth, in the form of gold, jewels, and other precious things, by his business transactions. Seeing that prosperity of his, he approached him with due politeness, and was welcomed by him, and invited to dinner. Then he sat by the side of that Arthavarman, and ate food appropriate to a guest, with meat-curry and ghee. But Arthavarman ate barley-meal, with half a pal of ghee and a little rice, and a small quantity of meat-curry. Yasovarman said to the merchant out of curiosity--"Great merchant, why do you eat so little?" Thereupon the merchant gave him this answer: "To-day out of regard for you I have eaten a little rice with meat-curry and half a pal of ghee; I have also eaten some barley-meal. But as a general rule, I eat only a karsha of ghee and some barley-meal, I have a weak digestion, and cannot digest more in my stomach." When Yasovarman heard that, he turned the matter over in his mind, and formed an unfavourable opinion of that prosperity of Arthavarman's, as being without fruit. Then, at nightfall, that merchant Arthavarman again brought rice and milk for Yasovarman to eat. And Yasovarman again ate of it to his fill, and then Arthavarman drank one pala of milk. And in that same place Yasovarman and Arthavarman both made their beds, and gradually fell asleep. And at midnight Yasovarman suddenly saw in his sleep some men of terrible appearance with clubs in their hands, entering the room. And they exclaimed angrily--"Fie! why have you taken to-day one karsha more of ghee than the small amount allowed to you, and eaten meat-curry, and drunk a pala of milk?" Then they dragged Arthavarman by his foot and beat him with clubs. And they extracted from his stomach the karsha of ghee, and the milk, flesh, and rice, which he had consumed above his allowance. When Yasovarman had seen that, he woke up and looked about him, and lo! Arthavarman had woke up, and was seized with colic. Then Arthavarman, crying out, and having his stomach rubbed by his servants, vomited up all the food he had eaten above the proper allowance. After the merchant's colic was allayed, Yasovarman said to himself: "Away with this good fortune of wealth, which involves enjoyment of such an equivocal kind! This would be altogether neutralized by such misery of ill health." In such internal reflections he passed that night. And in the morning he took leave of Arthavarman, and went to the house of that merchant Bhogavarman. There he approached him in due form, and he received him with politeness, and invited him to dine with him on that day. Now he did not perceive any wealth in the possession of that merchant, but he saw that he had a nice house, and dresses, and ornaments. While Yasovarman was waiting there, the merchant Bhogavarman proceeded to do his own special business. He took merchandise from one man, and immediately handed it over to another, and without any capital of his own, gained dínárs by the transaction. And he quickly sent those dínárs by the hand of his servant to his wife, in order that she might procure all kinds of food and drink. And immediately one of that merchant's friends, named Ichchhábharana, rushed in and said to him: "Our dinner is ready, rise up and come to us, and let us eat, for all our other friends have assembled and are waiting for you." He answered, "I shall not come to-day, for I have a guest here." Thereupon his friend went on to say to him, "Then let this guest come with you; is he not our friend also? Rise up quickly." Bhogavarman, being thus earnestly invited by that friend, went with him, accompanied by Yasovarman, and ate excellent food. And, after drinking wine, he returned, and again enjoyed all kinds of viands and wines at his own house in the evening. And when night came on, he asked his servants--"Have we enough wine left for the latter part of the night or not?" When they replied, "No, master," the merchant went to bed, exclaiming, "How are we to drink water in the latter part of the night?" Then Yasovarman, sleeping at his side, saw in a dream two or three men enter, and some others behind them. And those who entered last, having sticks in their hands, exclaimed angrily to those who entered first--"You rascals! Why did you not provide wine for Bhogavarman to drink in the latter half of the night? Where have you been all this time?" Then they beat them with strokes of their sticks. The men who were beaten with sticks, said, "Pardon this single fault on our part." And then they and the others went out of the room. Then Yasovarman, having seen that sight, woke up and reflected, "The good fortune of enjoyment of Bhogavarman, in which blessings arrive unthought of, is preferable to the good fortune of wealth of Arthavarman, which, though attended with opulence, is devoid of enjoyment." In these reflections he spent the rest of the night. And early the next morning Yasovarman took leave of that excellent merchant, and again repaired to the feet of Durgá, the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya range. And he chose out of those two good fortunes mentioned by the goddess, when she appeared to him on a former occasion, [755] while he was engaged in austerities, the good fortune of enjoyment, and the goddess granted it to him. Then Yasovarman returned home and lived in happiness, thanks to the good fortune of enjoyment, which, owing to the favour of the goddess, continually presented itself to him unthought of. "So a smaller fortune, accompanied with enjoyment, is to be preferred to a great fortune, which, though great, is devoid of enjoyment and therefore useless. So why are you annoyed at the good fortune of king Chamarabála, which is combined with meanness, and do not consider your own fortune, which is rich in the power of giving and in enjoyment? "So an attack on him by you is not advisable, and there is no auspicious moment for commencing the expedition, and I do not foresee victory to you." Though those five kings were thus warned by the astrologer, they marched in their impatience against king Chamarabála. And when king Chamarabála heard that they had reached the border, he bathed in the morning, and worshipped Siva duly by his auspicious names referring to sixty-eight excellent parts of the body, [756]--his names that destroy sin and grant all desires. And then he heard a voice coming from heaven, "King, fight without fear, thou shalt conquer thy enemies in battle." Then king Chamarabála was delighted, and girded on his armour, and accompanied by his army, marched out to fight with those foes. In the army of his enemies there were thirty thousand elephants, and three hundred thousand horses, and ten million foot-soldiers. And in his own army there were twenty hundred thousand foot-soldiers, and ten thousand elephants, and a hundred thousand horses. Then a great battle took place between those two armies, and king Chamarabála, preceded by his warder Víra, [757] who was rightly so named, entered that field of battle, as the holy Vishnu, in the form of the great boar, entered the great ocean. And though he had but a small army, he so grievously smote that great army of his foes, that slain horses, elephants, and footmen lay in heaps. And when king Samarabála came across him in the battle, he rushed upon him, and smote him with an iron spear, and drawing him towards him with a lasso, made him prisoner. And then in the same way he smote the second king Samarasúra in the heart with an arrow, and drawing him towards him with a noose, made him also prisoner. And his warder, named Víra, captured the third king, named Samarajita, and brought him to him. And his general, named Devabala, brought and presented to him the fourth king, named Pratápachandra, wounded with an arrow. Then the fifth king Pratápasena, beholding that, fell furiously upon king Chamarabála in the fight. But he repelled his arrows with the multitude of his own, and pierced him with three arrows in the forehead. And when he was bewildered with the blows of the arrows, Chamarabála, like a second Destiny, flung a noose round his neck, and dragging him along made him a captive. When those five kings had in this way been taken prisoners in succession, as many of their soldiers, as had escaped slaughter, fled, dispersing themselves in every direction. And king Chamarabála captured an infinite mass of gold and jewels, and many wives belonging to those kings. And among them, the head queen of king Pratápasena, called Yasolekhá, a lovely woman, fell into his hands. Then he entered his city, and gave turbans of honour to the warder Víra and the general Devabala, and loaded them with jewels. And the king made Yasolekhá an inmate of his own harem, on the ground that she, being the wife of Pratápasena, was captured according to the custom of the Kshatriyas. And she, though flighty, submitted to him because he had won her by the might of his arm; in those abandoned to the intoxication of love the impressions of virtue are evanescent. And after some days, king Chamarabála, being solicited by the queen Yasolekhá, let go those five captive kings, Pratápasena and the others, after they had learnt submission and done homage, and after honouring them, dismissed them to their own kingdoms. And then king Chamarabála long ruled his own wealthy kingdom, in which there were no opponents, and the enemies of which had been conquered, and he sported with that Yasolekhá, who surpassed in form and loveliness beautiful Apsarases, being, as it were, the banner that announced his victory over his foes. "Thus a brave man, though unsupported, conquers in the front of battle even many enemies coming against him in fight, distracted with hate, and not considering the resources of themselves and their foe, and by his surpassing bravery puts a stop to the fever of their conceit and pride." When Naraváhanadatta had heard this instructive tale told by Gomukha, he praised it, and set about his daily duties of bathing and so on. And he spent that night, which was devoted to the amusement of a concert, in singing with his wives in such a ravishing way, that Sarasvatí from her seat in heaven gave him and his beloved ones high commendation. CHAPTER LV. Then, the next day, as Naraváhanadatta was sitting in the apartments of Alankáravatí, a servant of Marubhúti's, the brother of Sauvidalla the guard of the prince's harem, came and said to him in the presence of all his ministers--"King, I have attended on Marubhúti for two years; he has given food and clothing to me and my wife: but he will not give me the fifty dínárs a year, which he promised me in addition. And when I asked him for it, he gave me a kick. So I am sitting in dharna against him at your Highness's door. If your Highness does not give judgment in this case, I shall enter the fire. What more can I say? For you are my sovereign." When he had said this, he stopped, and Marubhúti said--"I must give him the dínárs, but I have not got the money at present." When he said this, all the ministers laughed at him, and Naraváhanadatta said to the minister Marubhúti: "What are you thinking about, you fool? Your intentions are not over-creditable. Rise up, give him the hundred dínárs without delay." When Marubhúti heard this speech of his sovereign's, he was ashamed, and immediately brought that hundred dínárs and gave it to him. Then Gomukha said--"Marubhúti is not to be blamed, because the works of the Creator's hand have varying moods of mind. Have you not heard the story of king Chiradátri, and his servant named Prasanga?" Story of Chiradátri. In old time there was a king named Chiradátri, sovereign or Chirapura. Though he was an excellent man, his followers were extremely wicked. And that king had a servant, named Prasanga, who had come from another country, and was accompanied by two friends. And five years passed, while he was performing his duties, but the king gave him nothing, not even when an occasion was presented by a feast or something of the kind. And owing to the wickedness of the courtiers, he never obtained an opportunity of representing his case to the king, though his friends were continually instigating him to do so. Now one day the king's infant son died, and when he was grieved at it, all his servants came and crowded round him. And among them the servant, named Prasanga, out of pure sorrow, said to the king as follows, though his two friends tried to prevent him, "We have been your servants, your Highness, for a long time, and you have never given us anything, nevertheless we have remained here because we had hopes from your son; for we thought that, although you have never given us anything, your son would certainly give us something. If Fate has carried him off, what is the use of remaining here now? We will immediately take our departure." Thus he exclaimed, and fell at the feet of the king, and went out with his two friends. The king reflected--"Ah! though these men had fixed their hopes on my son, they have been faithful servants to me, so I must not abandon them." Thereupon he immediately had Prasanga and his companions summoned, and loaded them so with wealth that poverty did not again lay hold on them. "So you see, men have various dispositions, for that king did not give at the proper season, but did give in the unseasonable hour of calamity." When Gomukha, skilful in story-telling, had said this, he went on, at the instigation of the son of the sovereign of Vatsa, to tell the following tale: Story of king Kanakavarsha and Madanasundarí. There was in old time on the banks of the Ganges an excellent city, named Kanakapura, the people of which were purified in the water of the river; and which was a delightful place on account of its good government. In this city the only imprisonment seen was the committing to paper of the words of poets, the only kind of defeat was the curling in the locks of the women, the only contest was the struggle of getting the corn into the granary. [758] In that city there dwelt in old time a glorious king, named Kanakavarsha, who was born to Priyadarsana, the son of Vásuki, king of the snakes, by the princess Yasodhará. Though he bore the weight of the whole earth, he was adorned with innumerable virtues, he longed for glory, not for wealth, he feared sin, not his enemy. He was dull in slandering his neighbour, but not in the holy treatises; there was restraint in the high-souled hero's wrath, not in his favour; he was resolute-minded; he was niggardly in curses, not in gifts; he ruled the whole world; and such was his extraordinary beauty that all women, the moment they saw him, were distracted with the pain of love. Once on a time, in an autumn, that was characterized by heat, that maddened elephants, that was attended by flocks of swans, and delighted the subjects with rejoicings, [759] he entered a picture-palace which was cooled by winds that blew laden with the scent of lotuses. There he observed and praised the display of pictures, and in the meanwhile there entered the warder, who said to the king-- "Your majesty, an unequalled painter has arrived here from Ujjayiní, boasting himself to be matchless in the art of painting. His name is Roladeva, and he has to-day set up a notice at the palace gate to the above effect." When the king heard that, he felt respect for him, and ordered him to be introduced, and the warder immediately went and brought him in. The painter entered, and beheld the king Kanakavarsha amusing himself in private with looking at pictures, reclining his body on the lap of beautiful women, and taking in carelessly crooked fingers the prepared betel. And the painter Roladeva made obeisance to the king, who received him politely, and sitting down said slowly to him--"O king, I put up a notice principally through the desire of beholding your feet, not out of pride in my skill, so you must excuse this deed of mine. And you must tell me what form I am to represent on canvas, let not the trouble I took in learning this accomplishment be thrown away, O king." When the painter said this to the king, he replied, "Teacher, paint anything you will, let us give our eyes a treat: what doubt can there be about your skill?" When the king said this, his courtiers exclaimed--"Paint the king: what is the use of painting others, ugly in comparison with him?" When the painter heard this, he was pleased, and painted the king, with aquiline nose, with almond-shaped fiery eye, with broad forehead, with curly black hair, with ample breast, glorious with the scars of wounds inflicted by arrows and other weapons, with handsome arms resembling the trunks of the elephants that support the quarters, with waist capable of being spanned with the hand, as if it had been a present from the lion-whelps conquered by his might, and with thighs like the post for fastening the elephant of youth, and with beautiful feet, like the shoots of the asoka. And all, when they beheld that life-like likeness of the king, applauded that painter, and said to him; "We do not like to see the king alone on the picture-panel, so paint on it one of these queens by his side, carefully choosing one, that will be a worthy pendant to him; let the feast of our eyes be complete." When they said this, the painter looked at the picture and said, "Though there are many of these queens, there is none among them like the king, and I believe there is no woman on the earth a match for him in beauty, except one princess--listen, I will tell you about her. "In Vidarbha there is a prosperous town named Kundina, and in it there is a king of the name of Devasakti. And he has a queen named Anantavatí, dearer to him than life, and by her there was born to him a daughter named Madanasundarí. How could one like me presume to describe her beauty with this one single tongue, but so much will I say. When the Creator had made her, through delight in her he conceived a desire to make another like her, but he will not be able to do it even in the course of yugas. That princess, alone on the earth, is a match for this king in shape, beauty and refinement, in age and birth. For I, when I was there, was once summoned by her by the mouth of a maid, and I went to her private apartments. There I beheld her, freshly anointed with sandal unguent, having a necklace of lotus-fibres, tossing on a bed of lotuses, being fanned by her ladies-in-waiting with the wind of plantain leaves, pale and emaciated, exhibiting the signs of love's fever. And in these words was she dissuading her ladies occupied in fanning her,--'O my friends, away with this sandal unguent and these breezes wafted by plantain leaves; for these, though cool, scorch up unhappy me.' And when I saw her in this state, I was troubled to divine the reason, and after doing obeisance, I sat down in front of her. And she said, 'Teacher, paint such a form as this on canvas and give it me.' "And then she made me paint a certain very handsome youth, slowly tracing out the form on the ground with trembling, nectar-distilling hand, to guide me. And when I had so painted that handsome youth, I said to myself--'She has made me paint the god of Love in visible form; but, as I see that the flowery bow is not represented in his hand, I know that it cannot be the god of Love, it must be some extraordinarily handsome young man like him. And her outburst of love-sickness has to do with him. So I must depart hence, for this king, her father Devasakti, is severe in his justice, and if he heard of this proceeding of mine, he would not overlook it.' Thus reflecting, I did obeisance to that princess Madanasundarí, and departed, honoured by her. "But when I was there, O king, I heard from her attendants, as they talked freely together, that she had fallen in love with you from hearing of you only. So I have secretly taken a picture of that princess on a sheet of canvas, and have come here quickly to your feet. And when I beheld your majesty's appearance, my doubt was at an end, for it was clearly your majesty that the princess caused to be painted by my hand. And as it is not possible to paint her twice, such as she is, I will not represent her in the picture as standing at your side, though she is equal to you in beauty." When Roladeva said this, the king said to him--"Then shew her as she is represented on the canvas you have brought with you." Then the painter looked out a piece of canvas which was in a bag, and shewed the king Madanasundarí in a painting. And the king Kanakavarsha, seeing that even in a painting she was wonderfully beautiful, immediately became enamoured of her. And he loaded that painter with much gold, and taking the picture of his beloved, retired into his private apartments. There he remained with his mind fixed on her alone, abandoning all occupations, and his eyes were never satisfied with gazing on her beauty. It seemed as if the god of love was jealous of his good looks, for now that he had obtained an opportunity, he tormented him, smiting him with his arrows and robbing him of his self-control. And the love-pain, which he had inflicted on women enamoured of his handsome shape, was now visited on that king a hundredfold. And in the course of some days, being pale and emaciated, he told to his confidential ministers, who questioned him, the thought of his heart. And after deliberating with them, he sent to the king Devasakti, as ambassador, to ask for the hand of his daughter, a trustworthy Bráhman of good birth, named Sangamasvámin, who was skilled in affairs, knew times and seasons, and could speak in a sweet and lofty style. That Sangamasvámin went to Vidarbha with a great retinue, and entered the city of Kundina. And there he had a formal interview with the king Devasakti, and on behalf of his master asked for the hand of his daughter. And Devasakti reflected--"I must give away this daughter of mine to some one, and this king Kanakavarsha has been described as my equal, and he asks for her; so I will give her to him." Accordingly he granted the prayer of Sangamasvámin, and the king displayed to the ambassador the astonishing elegance in the dance of his daughter Madanasundarí. Then the king sent away, after honouring him, and promising to give his daughter, that Sangamasvámin, who was charmed with his sight of her. And he sent with him a counter-ambassador to say, "Fix an auspicious moment and come here for the marriage. And Sangamasvámin returned, accompanied by the counter-ambassador, and told the king Kanakavarsha that his object was effected. Then the king ascertained a favourable moment, and honoured that ambassador, and heard from him over and over again how Madanasundarí was in love with him. And then the king Kanakavarsha set out for the city of Kundina, in order to marry her, with mind at ease on account of his own irresistible valour, mounted on the horse Asíkala, [760] and he smote the Savaras that inhabited the border-forests, and took the lives of living creatures, like lions and other wild beasts. And he reached Vidarbha, and entered that city of Kundina, with king Devasakti, who came out to meet him. Then he entered the king's palace, in which preparations had been made for the marriage, robbing the ladies of the city of the feast which he had given to their eyes. And there he rested a day with his retinue, pleased at the noble reception which king Devasakti gave him. And on the next day Devasakti gave him his daughter Madanasundarí, together with all his wealth, retaining only his kingdom. And king Kanakavarsha, after he had remained there seven days, returned to his own city with his recently-married bride. And when he arrived with his beloved, giving joy to the world, like the moon with the moonlight, that city was full of rejoicing. Then that queen Madanasundarí was dearer than life to that king, though he had many wives, as Rukminí is to Vishnu. And the wedded couple remained fastened together by their eyes with lovely eyelashes, which were fixed on one another's faces, resembling the arrows of love. And in the meanwhile arrived the lion of spring, with a train of expanding filaments for mane, tearing to pieces the elephant of female coyness. And the garden made ready blossoming mango-plants, by way of bows for the god of Love, with rows of bees clinging to them by way of bowstring. And the wind from the Malaya mountain blew, swaying the love-kindled hearts of the wives of men travelling in foreign lands, as it swayed the suburban groves. And the sweetly-speaking cuckoos seemed to say to men, "The brimming of the streams, the flowers of the trees, the digits of the moon wane and return again, but not the youth of men. [761] Fling aside coyness and quarrelling, and sport with your beloved ones." And at that time king Kanakavarsha went with all his wives to a spring-garden, to amuse himself. And he eclipsed the beauty of the asokas with the red robes of his attendants, and with the songs of his lovely ladies the song of the cuckoos and bees. There the king, though all his wives were with him, amused himself with Madanasundarí in picking flowers and other diversions. And after roaming there a long time, the king entered the Godávarí with his wives to bathe, and began the water-game. His ladies surpassed the lotuses with their faces, with their eyes the blue water-lilies, with their breasts the couples of Brahmany ducks, with their hips the sandbanks, and when they troubled the bosom of the stream, it showed frowns of anger in the form of curling waves. Then the mind of Kanakavarsha took pleasure in them, while they displayed the contours of their limbs in the splashing-game. And in the ardour of the game, he splashed one queen with water from his palms on her breast. When Madanasundarí saw it, she was jealous, and got angry with him, and in an outburst of indignation said to him, "How long are you going to trouble the river?" And going out of the water, she took her other clothes and rushed off in a passion to her own palace, telling her ladies of that fault of her lover's. Then king Kanakavarsha, seeing her state of mind, stopped his water-game, and went off to her apartments. Even the parrots in the cages warned him off in wrath, when he approached, and entering he saw within the queen afflicted with wrath: with her downcast lotus-like face supported on the palm of her left hand, with tear-drops falling like transparent pearls. And she was repeating, with accents charming on account of her broken speech, in a voice interrupted with sobs, shewing her gleaming teeth, this fragment of a Prákrit song: "If you cannot endure separation, you must cheerfully abandon anger. If you can in your heart endure separation, then you must increase your wrath. Perceiving this clearly, remain pledged to one or the other; if you take your stand on both, you will fall between two stools." And when the king saw her in this state, lovely even in tears, he approached her bashfully and timidly. And embracing her, though she kept her face averted, he set himself to propitiate her with respectful words tender with love. And when her retinue signified her scorn with ambiguous hints, he fell at her feet, blaming himself as an offender. Then she clung to the neck of the king, and was reconciled to him, bedewing him with the tears that flowed on account of that very annoyance. And he, delighted, spent the day with his beloved, whose anger had been exchanged for good-will, and slept there at night. But in the night he saw in a dream his necklace suddenly taken from his neck, and his crest-jewel snatched from his head, by a deformed woman. Then he saw a Vetála, with a body made up of the limbs of many animals, and when the Vetála wrestled with him, he hurled him to earth. And when the king sat on the Vetála's back, the demon flew up with him through the air, like a bird, and threw him into the sea. Then, after he had with difficulty struggled to the shore, he saw that the necklace was replaced on his neck, and the crest-jewel on his head. When the king had seen this, he woke up, and in the morning he asked a Buddhist mendicant, who had come to visit him as an old friend, the meaning of the dream. And the mendicant answered clearly--"I do not wish to say what is unpleasant, but how can I help telling you when I am asked? The fact that you saw your necklace and crest-jewel taken away, means that you will be separated from your wife and from your son. And the fact that, after you had escaped from the sea, you found them again, means that you will be reunited with them, when your calamity comes to an end." Then the king said, "I have not a son as yet, let him be born first." Then the king heard from a reciter of the Rámáyana, who visited his palace, how king Dasaratha endured hardship to obtain a son; and so there arose in his mind anxiety about obtaining a son, and the mendicant having departed, the king Kanakavarsha spent that day in despondency. And at night, as he was lying alone and sleepless upon his bed, he saw a woman enter without opening the door. She was modest and gentle of appearance, and, when the king bowed before her, she gave him her blessing and said to him: "Son, know that I am the daughter of Vásuki the king of the snakes, and the elder sister of thy father, Ratnaprabhá by name. I always dwell near thee, invisible, to protect thee, but to-day, seeing thee despondent, I have displayed to thee my real form. I cannot bear to behold thy sorrow, so tell me the cause." When the king had been thus addressed by his father's sister, he said to her: "I am fortunate, mother, in that you shew me such condescension. But know that my anxiety is caused by the fact that no son is born to me. How can people like myself help desiring that, which even heroic saints of old days, like Dasaratha and others, desired for the sake of obtaining svarga." When the Nágí [762] Ratnaprabhá heard this speech of that king, she said to her brother's son; "My son, I will tell thee an admirable expedient, carry it out. Go and propitiate Kártikeya with a view to obtain a son. I will enter thy body, and by my power thou shalt support the rain of Kártikeya falling on thy head to impede thee, difficult to endure. And after thou hast overcome a host of other impediments, thou shalt obtain thy wish." When the Nágí had said this, she disappeared, and the king spent the night in bliss. The next morning he committed his realm to the care of his ministers, and went, desiring a son, to visit the sole of Kártikeya's foot. There he performed a severe penance to propitiate that lord, having power given him by the Nágí that entered his body. Then the rain of Kumára [763] fell on his head like thunderbolts, and continued without ceasing. But he endured it by means of the Nágí that had entered his body. Then Kártikeya sent Ganesa to impede him still further. And Ganesa created in that rain a very poisonous and exceedingly terrible serpent, but the king did not fear it. Then Ganesa, invincible [764] even by gods, came in visible form, and began to give him bites on the breast. Then king Kanakavarsha, thinking that he was a foe hard to subdue, proceeded, after he had endured that ordeal, to propitiate Ganesa with praises. "Honour to thee, O god of the projecting belly, adorned with the elephant's ornament, whose body is like a swelling pitcher containing success in all affairs! Victory to thee, O elephant-faced one, that makest even Brahmá afraid, shaking the lotus, which is his throne, with thy trunk flung up in sport! Even the gods, the Asuras, and the chief hermits do not succeed, unless thou art pleased, the only refuge of the world, O thou beloved of Siva! The chief of the gods praise thee by thy sixty-eight sin-destroying names, calling thee the pitcher-bellied, the basket-eared one, [765] the chief of the Ganas, the furious mast elephant, Yama the noose-handed, the Sun, Vishnu, and Siva. With these names to the number of sixty-eight, corresponding to so many parts of the body, do they praise thee. And when one remembers thee, and praises thee, O Lord, fear produced by the battle-field, by the king's court, by gambling, by thieves, by fire, by wild beasts, and other harms, departs." With these laudatory verses, and with many others of the same kind, king Kanakavarsha honoured that king of impediments. And the conqueror of impediments said, "I will not throw an impediment in thy way, obtain a son," and disappeared then and there from the eyes of that king. Then Kártikeya said to that king, who had endured the rain; "Resolute man, I am pleased with thee, so crave thy boon." Then the king, delighted, said to the god, "Let a son be born to me by thy favour." Then the god said, "Thou shalt have a son, the incarnation of one of my Ganas, and his name shall be Hiranyavarsha on the earth." And then the rider on the peacock summoned him to enter his inmost shrine, in order to shew him special favour. [766] Thereupon the Nágí left his body invisibly, for females do not enter the house of Kártikeya through dread of a curse. Then king Kanakavarsha entered the sanctifying temple of that god, armed only with his human excellence. When the god saw that he was deprived of the excellence he formerly had, because he was no longer inhabited by the Nágí, he reflected--"What can this mean?" And Kártikeya, perceiving by his divine meditation, that that king had performed a very difficult vow by the secret help of the Nágí, thus cursed him in his wrath: "Since thou didst make use of deceit, intractable man, thou shalt be separated from thy son, as soon as he is born, and from thy queen. When the king heard this curse, terrible as a thunderstroke, he was not amazed, but being a mighty poet, praised that god with hymns. Then the six-faced god, pleased with his well turned language, said to him; "King, I am pleased with thy hymns; I appoint thee this end of thy curse; thou shalt be separated from thy wife and son for one year, but after thou hast been saved from three great dangers, thou shalt come to an end of the separation." When the six-faced god had said this, he ceased to speak, and the king, satisfied with the nectar of his favour, bowed before him, and went to his own city. Then, in course of time, he had a son born to him by queen Madanasundarí, as the nectar-stream is born of the light of the cold-rayed moon. When the king and queen saw the face of that son, being filled with great delight, they were not able to contain themselves. [767] And at that time the king made a feast, and showered riches, and made his name of Kanakavarsha [768] a literal fact on the earth. When five nights had passed, while guard was being kept in the lying-in-house, on the sixth night a cloud suddenly came there. It swelled, and gradually covered the whole sky, as a neglected enemy overruns the kingdom of a careless king. Then the mast elephant of the wind began to rush, showering drops of rain like drops of ichor, and rooting up trees. At that moment a terrible woman, sword in hand, opened the door, though it was bolted, and entered that lying-in-chamber. She took that babe from the queen as she was nursing it, and ran out, having bewildered the attendants. And then the queen, distracted, and exclaiming, "Alas! a Rákshasí has carried off my child," pursued that woman, though it was dark. And the woman rushed on and plunged into a tank with the child, and the queen, pursuing her, plunged in also, eager to recover her offspring. Immediately the cloud disappeared, and the night came to an end, and the lamentation of the attendants was heard in the lying-in-chamber. Then the king Kanakavarsha, hearing it, came to the lying-in-chamber, and seeing it empty of his son and wife, was distracted. After he had recovered consciousness, he began to lament, "Alas, my queen! Alas, my infant son!" and then he called to mind that the curse was to end in a year. And he exclaimed, "Holy Skanda, how could you give to ill-starred me a boon joined with a curse, like nectar mixed with poison? Alas! how shall I be able to pass a year, long as a thousand years, without the queen Madanasundarí, whom I value more than my life?" And the king, though exhorted by the ministers, who knew the circumstances, did not recover his composure, which had departed with his queen. And in course of time he left his city, distracted with a paroxysm of love, and wandered through the Vindhya forest in a state of bewilderment. There, as he gazed on the eyes of the young does, he remembered the beauty of the eyes of his beloved, and the bushy tails of the chamarís reminded him of the loveliness of her luxuriant hair, and when he marked the gait of the female elephant, he called to mind the languid grace of her gait, so that the fire of his love broke out into a fiercer flame. And wandering about exhausted with thirst and heat, he reached the foot of the Vindhya mountains, and, after drinking the water of a stream, he sat down at the foot of a tree. In the meanwhile a long-maned lion came out of a cavern of the Vindhya hills, uttering a roar which resembled a loud demoniac laugh, and rushed towards him to slay him. At that very moment a certain Vidyádhara descended rapidly from heaven, and cleft that lion in two with a sword-stroke. And that sky-goer, coming near, said to the king, "King Kanakavarsha, how have you come to this region?" When the king heard it, he recovered his memory, and said to him, "How do you know me, who am tossed with the wind of separation?" Then the Vidyádhara said, "I, when in old time I was a religious mendicant, of the name of Bandhumitra, dwelt in your city. Then you helped me in my rites, when I respectfully asked you to do so, and so I obtained the rank of a Vidyádhara, by making a goblin my servant. Thus I recognized you, and being desirous to confer on you a benefit by way of recompense, I have slain this lion which I saw on the point of killing you. "And my name has now become Bandhuprabha." When the Vidyádhara said this, the king conceived an affection for him, and said, "Ah! I remember, and this friendship has been nobly acted up to by you, so tell me when I shall be reunited with my wife and son." When the Vidyádhara Bandhuprabha heard that, he perceived it by his divine knowledge, and said to the king--"By a pilgrimage to the shrine of Durgá, in the Vindhya hills, you will recover your wife and son, so go you to prosperity, and I will return to my own world." When he had said this, he departed, and king Kanakavarsha, having recovered his self-command, went to visit that shrine of Durgá. As he was going along, a great and furious wild elephant, stretching out its trunk, and shaking its head, charged him in the path. When the king saw that, he fled by a way full of holes, so that the elephant, pursuing him, fell into a chasm and was killed. Then the king, fatigued with toil and exertion, slowly going along, reached a great lake full of lotuses with straight upstanding stalks. There the king bathed, drank the water of the lake, and ate the fibres of the lotuses, and lying tired at the foot of a tree, was for a moment overpowered by sleep. And some Savaras, returning that way from hunting, saw that king with auspicious marks lying asleep. And they immediately bound him, and took him to their king Muktáphala, in order that he might serve as a victim. The king of the Savaras, for his part, seeing that the king was a suitable victim, took him to the temple of Durgá to offer him up. And when the king saw the goddess, he bowed before her, and by her mercy and the favour of Skanda his bonds fell off. When the king of the Savaras saw that miracle, he knew that it was a mark of the goddess's favour towards him, and he spared his life. So Kanakavarsha escaped the third danger, and accomplished the year of his curse. And in the meanwhile the Nágí, the aunt of the king, came there, bringing the queen Madanasundarí with her son, and said to the king--"O king, when I heard the curse of Kártikeya, I took these away by an artifice to my own dwelling, and preserved them there. Therefore, Kanakavarsha, receive here your wife and son, enjoy this empire of the earth, for now your curse is at an end." When the Nágí had said this to the king, who bowed before her, she disappeared, and the king looked upon the arrival of his wife and child as a dream. Then the grief of separation of the king and queen, who had so long been forced to live apart, trickled away in their tears of joy. Then Muktáphala, the king of the Savaras, fell at the feet of the king Kanakavarsha, on finding that he was his master, the lord of the whole earth. And after he had propitiated him, and persuaded him to visit his town, he furnished his wife and child with all kinds of luxuries, such as it was in his power to give. Then the king, remaining there, summoned by messengers his father-in-law Devasakti and his army [769] from his own city. Then he sent on in front of him his beloved wife Madanasundarí, mounted on a female elephant, and his son, who Kártikeya said was to be called Hiranyavarsha, and went with his father-in-law towards his father-in-law's house. [770] And in a few days he reached the residence of his father-in-law, a hermitage in the country of Vidarbha, and after that his wealthy city of Kundina, and there he remained some time with his wife and son, and his army, being entertained by his father-in-law. And setting out thence, he at last reached his own town of Kanakapura, where he was, as it were, drunk in by the eyes of the wives of the citizens, long desirous of beholding him again. And with his son and Madanasundarí he entered the palace, like an embodied feast, accompanied with joy and splendour. And there he gave Madanasundarí a turban of honour, and made her his head wife, and he honoured his subjects with gifts on this day of triumph. [771] And then king Kanakavarsha ruled this circle of the earth, four-limited by the sea, without opponents, in perpetual happiness, with his wife and son, without experiencing again the grief of separation. When the prince Naraváhanadatta heard this magnificent tale from his head minister Gomukha, in the company of the fair Alankáravatí, he was exceedingly delighted. CHAPTER LVI. Then the prince Naraváhanadatta, with his beloved by his side, being much pleased at the tale of Gomukha, but seeing that Marubhúti was quite put out, in order to pay him a compliment, said to him, attempting to conciliate him; "Marubhúti, why do you not tell a tale also?" Then he said, "Well, I will tell one," and with pleased soul began to relate the following story. Story of the Bráhman Chandrasvámin, his son Mahípála, and his daughter Chandravatí. There once lived in a town called Devakamalapura, belonging to the king Kamalavarman, an excellent Bráhman, named Chandrasvámin. And that wise man had a wife like himself, distinguished for modesty, and she was a worthy match for Sarasvatí and Lakshmí. And to that Bráhman was born a son with auspicious marks, and when he was born, this voice was heard from heaven: "Chandrasvámin, you must call your son Mahípála, [772] because he shall be a king and long protect the earth." When Chandrasvámin heard this, he made a feast and called that son Mahípála. And in course of time Mahípála grew up, and was taught the science of missile and hand to hand weapons, and was at the same time instructed in all knowledge. And in the meanwhile his wife Devamati brought forth to Chandrasvámin another child, a daughter, beautiful in all her limbs. And the brother and sister, Mahípála and Chandravatí, grew up together in their father's house. Then a famine, caused by want of rain, sprang up in that country, the corn having been scorched up by the rays of the sun. And owing to that, the king began to play the bandit, leaving the right path, and taking wealth from his subjects unlawfully. Then, as that land was going rapidly to ruin, Chandrasvámin's wife said to her husband: "Come to my father's house, let us leave this city, for our children will perish here some day or other." When Chandrasvámin heard this, he said to his wife--"By no means, for flight from one's own country in time of famine is a great sin. So I will take these children and deposit them in your father's house, and do you remain here; I will return soon. She agreed, and then Chandrasvámin left her in his house, and taking those two children, the boy Mahípála and the girl Chandravatí, set out from that city for his father-in-law's house. And in course of time, as he roamed on, he reached a great wilderness, with sands heated by the rays of the sun, and with but a few parched up trees in it. And there he left his two children, who were exhausted with thirst, and went to a great distance to look for water for them. Then there met him a chief of the Savaras, named Sinhadanshtra, with his followers, going somewhere or other for his own ends. The Bhilla saw him and questioned him, and finding out that he was in search of water, said to his followers, "Take him to some water," at the same time making a sign to them. When they heard it, two or three of the Savara king's followers, perceiving his intention, took the innocent Chandrasvámin to the village, and fettered him. And he, learning from them that he was fettered in order to be offered as a victim, lamented for his two children that he had left in the wild: "Ah Mahípála! Ah dear Chandravatí! why did I foolishly abandon you in the wilderness and make you the prey of lions and tigers? And I have brought myself also into a position where I am sure to be slain by bandits, and there is no escape for me." While he was thus lamenting in his terror, he saw to his delight the sun. And exclaiming, "Ah! I will fling aside bewilderment and fly for refuge to my own lord," the Bráhman began to praise the sun in the following verses--"Hail to thee, O Lord, the brightness residing in the near and in the remote ether, that dispersest the internal and external darkness. Thou art Vishnu pervading the three worlds, thou art Siva the treasure-house of blessings, thou art the supreme lord of creatures, calling into activity the sleeping Universe. Thou deposest thy brightness in fire and in the moon, out of pity, as it were, saying, 'Let these two dull things shine,' and so thou dispellest the night. When thou risest, the Rákshasas disperse, the Dasyus have no power, and the virtuous rejoice. [773] So, thou matchless illuminator of the three worlds, deliver me, who take refuge with thee. Disperse this darkness of my grief, have mercy upon me." When the Bráhman had devoutly praised the sun with these and other similar hymns, a voice was heard from heaven--"Chandrasvámin, I am pleased with thee, thou shalt not be put to death, and by my favour thou shalt be reunited with thy wife and children." When the divine voice had said this to Chandrasvámin, he recovered his spirits, and remained in a state of tranquillity, being supplied with bathing requisites and food by the Savaras. And in the meanwhile the boy Mahípála, left in the wilderness with his sister, as his father did not return, remained lamenting bitterly, supposing that some calamity had befallen him. And in this state he was beheld by a great merchant, of the name of Sárthadhara, who came that way, and the merchant asked him what had happened to him. And feeling compassion, he consoled the boy, and observing that he had auspicious marks, he took him and his sister to his own country. There that Mahípála lived in the house of that merchant, who looked upon him with all the affection of a father for his son; and though a boy, he was occupied in the rites of the sacred fire. But one day the minister of the king Tárávarman, who lived in the city of Tárápura, the excellent Bráhman Anantasvámin, came that way on business, with his elephants, horses and foot-soldiers, and entered the house of that merchant, being a friend of his. After he had rested, he saw the handsome boy Mahípála, engaged in muttering prayers and in sacrificing to the fire, and asked his story; then the Bráhman minister, finding that the boy was of his own caste, as he had no children, begged the boy and his sister from the merchant. Then the merchant, who was a Vaisya, gave him the children, and Anantasvámin went with them to Tárápura. There Mahípála remained in the house of that minister, which abounded in wealth on account of its master's knowledge, and was treated by him as a son. And in the meanwhile Sinhadanshtra, the king of the Bhillas, came to Chandrasvámin, who was in captivity in that village, and said to him; "Bráhman, I have been ordered in a dream by the Sun-god not to slay you but to set you free, after doing you honour. So rise up, and go where you please." After saying this, he let him go, giving him pearls and musk, and supplying him with an escort through the forest. And Chandrasvámin, being thus set at liberty, not finding his son and his younger sister in the wood, wandered in search of them, and as he wandered he found a city named Jalapura on the shore of the sea, and entered as a guest the house of a certain Bráhman. There, after he had taken refreshment, and then told his story, the Bráhman, the master of the house, said to him; "A merchant named Kanakavarman came here some days ago; he found in the forest a Bráhman boy with his sister, and he has gone off with those two very handsome children to the great island of Nárikela, but he did not tell his name." When Chandrasvámin heard that, he made up his mind that those children were his, and he determined to go to that beautiful island. And after he had spent the night, and looked about him, he made acquaintance with a merchant, named Vishnuvarman, who was about to go to the isle of Nárikela. And with him he embarked in a ship, and went across the sea to the island, out of love for his children. When he began to enquire there, the merchants, who lived there, said to him; "It is true that a merchant named Kanakavarman did come here, with two beautiful Bráhman children, whom he found in a wood. But he has now gone with them to the island of Katáha. When the Bráhman heard that, he went in a ship with the merchant Dánavarman to the island of Katáha. There he heard that the merchant Kanakavarman had gone from that island to an island named Karpúra. In the same way he visited in turn the islands of Karpúra, Suvarna, and Sinhala with merchants, but he did not find the merchant whom he was in search of. But from the people of Sinhala he heard that that merchant Kanakavarman had gone to his own city, named Chitrakúta. Then Chandrasvámin went with a merchant, named Kotísvara, to Chitrakúta, crossing the sea in his ship. And in that city he found the merchant Kanakavarman, and longing for his children, he told him the whole story. Then Kanakavarman, when he knew the cause of his grief, showed him the children, whom he had found in the forest and brought away. But when Chandrasvámin looked at those two children, he saw that they were not his, but some other children. Then he, being afflicted with tears and grief, lamented in desperate mood--"Alas! though I have wandered so far, I have not found my son or my daughter. Malignant Providence, like a wicked master, has held out hopes to me but has not fulfilled them, and has made me wander far and wide on a false surmise." While he was indulging in such lamentations, he was at last, though with difficulty, consoled by Kanakavarman, and exclaimed in his grief, "If I do not find those children in a year, by wandering over the earth, I will abandon the body by austerities on the bank of the river Ganges. When he said this, a certain seer there said to him, "Go, you will recover your children by the favour of Náráyaní. When he heard that, he was delighted, remembering the compassion shown him by the sun, and he departed from that city, honoured by the merchants. Then, searching the lands which were royal grants to Bráhmans, and the villages and the towns, he reached one evening a wood with many tall trees in it. There he made a meal on fruits and water, and climbed up into a tree to spend the night there, dreading the lions, and tigers, and other noisome beasts. And being sleepless, he saw in the night at the foot of the tree a great body of divine Mothers assembled, with Náráyaní at their head; waiting for the arrival of the god Bhairava, having brought with them all kinds of presents suited to their resources. And thereupon the Mothers asked Náráyaní why the god delayed, but she laughed and gave no reason. And being persistently questioned by them, she answered--"He has stopped to curse a Guhyaka who has incurred his displeasure." [774] And on account of that business some delay has taken place about his arrival, but know that he will be here soon. While Náráyaní was saying this to the Mothers, there came there Bhairava [775] the lord of the company of Mothers. And he, having been honoured with gifts by all the Mothers, spent some time in dancing, and sported with the witches. And while Chandrasvámin was surveying that from the summit of a tree, he saw a slave belonging to Náráyaní, and she saw him. And as chance would have it, they fell in love with one another, and the goddess Náráyaní perceived their feelings. And when Bhairava had departed, accompanied by the witches, she, lingering behind, summoned Chandrasvámin who was on the tree. And when he came down, she said to him and her slave: "Are you in love with one another?" And they confessed the truth, and said they were, and thereupon she dismissed her anger and said to Chandrasvámin, "I am pleased with thee for confessing the truth, so I will not curse thee, but I will give thee this slave, live in happiness." When the Bráhman heard this, he said--"Goddess, though my mind is fickle, I hold it in check, I do not touch a strange woman. For this is the nature of the mind, but bodily sin should be avoided." When that firm-souled Bráhman said this, the goddess said to him--"I am pleased with thee and I give thee this boon: thou shalt quickly find thy children. And receive from me this unfading lotus that destroys poison." When the goddess had said this, she gave the Bráhman Chandrasvámin a lotus, and disappeared from his eyes. And he, having received the lotus, set out, at the end of the night, and roaming along reached the city of Tárápura, where his son Mahípála and his daughter were living in the house of that Bráhman minister Anantasvámin. There he went and recited at the door of that minister, in order to obtain food, having heard that he was hospitable. And the minister, having been informed by the door-keepers, had him introduced by them, and when he saw that he was learned, invited him to dinner. And when he was invited, having heard that there was a lake there, named Anantahrada, that washed away sin, he went to bathe there. While he was returning after bathing, the Bráhman heard all round him in the city a cry of grief. And when he asked the cause, the people said to him--"There is in this city a Bráhman boy, of the name of Mahípála, who was found in the forest by the merchant Sárthadhara. The minister Anantasvámin, observing that he had auspicious marks, with some difficulty begged him and his sister from the merchant, and brought them both here. And being without a son, he has adopted the boy, whose excellent qualities have endeared him to king Tárávarman and his people. To-day he has been bitten by a poisonous snake; hence the cry of grief in the city." When Chandrasvámin heard that, he said to himself, "This must be my son," and reflecting thus, he went to the house of that minister as fast as he could. There he saw his son surrounded by all, and recognized him, and rejoiced, having in his hand the lotus that was an antidote to snake-poison. And he put that lotus to the nose of that Mahípála, and the moment he smelt it, he was free from the effects of poison. And Mahípála rose up, and was as one who had just awoke from sleep, [776] and all the people in the city, and the king rejoiced. And Chandrasvámin was honoured with wealth by Anantasvámin, the king, and the citizens, who said "This is some incarnation of the divinity." And he remained in the house of the minister in great comfort, honoured by him, and he saw his son Mahípála and his daughter Chandravatí. And the three, though they mutually recognized one another, said nothing, for the wise have regard to what is expedient, and do not discover themselves out of season. Then the king Tárávarman, being highly pleased with the virtues of Mahípála, gave him his daughter Bandhumatí. Then that king, after giving him the half of the kingdom, being pleased with him, laid the whole burden of the kingdom upon him, as he had no other son. And Mahípála, after he had obtained the kingdom, acknowledged his father, and gave him a position next to his, and so lived in happiness. One day his father Chandrasvámin said to him, "Come, let us go to our own country to bring your mother. For if she hears that you are the occupant of a throne, having been long afflicted, she might think, 'How comes it that my son has forgotten me,' and might curse you in her anger. But one who is cursed by his father and mother does not long enjoy prosperity. In proof of this hear this tale of what happened long ago to the merchant's son." Story of Chakra. [777] In the city of Dhavala there was a merchant's son, named Chakra. He went on a trading voyage to Svarnadvípa against the will of his parents. There he gained great wealth in five years, and in order to return embarked on the sea in a ship laden with jewels. And when his voyage was very nearly at an end, the sea rose up against him, troubled with a great wind, and with clouds and rain. And the huge billows broke his vessel, as if angry because he had come against the wish of his parents. Some of the passengers were whelmed in the waves, others were eaten by sea-monsters. But Chakra, as his allotted term of life had not run out, was carried to the shore and flung up there by the waves. While he was lying there in a state of exhaustion, he saw as if in a dream, a man of black and terrible appearance come to him, with a noose in his hand. Chakra was caught in the noose by that man, who took him up and dragged him a long distance to a court presided over by a man on a throne. By the order of the occupant of the throne, the merchant's son was carried off by that noose-bearer, and flung into a cell of iron. In that cell Chakra saw a man being tortured by means of an iron wheel [778] on his head, that revolved incessantly. And Chakra asked him,--"Who are you, by what crime did you incur this, and how do you manage to continue alive?" And the man answered--"I am a merchant's son named Khadga, and because I did not obey the commands of my parents, they were angry and in wrath laid this curse upon me: [779] 'Because, wicked son, you torture us like a hot wheel placed on the head, therefore such shall be your punishment.' When they had said this they ceased, and as I wept, they said to me, 'Weep not, your punishment shall only last for one month.' When I heard that, I spent the day in grief, and at night when I was in bed, I saw, as if in a dream, a terrible man come. He took me off and thrust me by force into this iron cell, and he placed on my head this burning and ever-revolving wheel. This was my parents' curse, hence I do not die. And the month is at an end to-day; still I am not set free." When Khadga said that, Chakra in pity answered him--"I too did not obey my parents, for I went abroad to get wealth against their will, and they pronounced against me the curse that my wealth, when acquired, should perish. So I lost in the sea my whole wealth, that I had acquired in a foreign island. My case is the same as yours. So what is the use of my life? Place this wheel on my head. Let your curse, Khadga, depart." When Chakra said this, a voice was heard in the air "Khadga, thou art released, so place this wheel on the head of Chakra." When Khadga heard this, he placed the wheel on the head of Chakra, and was conveyed by some invisible being to his parents' house. There he remained without disobeying again the orders of his parents: but Chakra put that wheel upon his head, and then spake thus--"May other sinners also on the earth be released from the result of their sins; until all sins are cancelled, may this wheel revolve on my head." When the resolute Chakra said this, the gods in heaven, being pleased, rained flowers and thus addressed him: "Bravo! Bravo! man of noble spirit, this compassion has cancelled thy sin, go; thou shalt possess inexhaustible wealth." When the gods said this, that iron wheel fell from the head of Chakra, and disappeared somewhere. Then a Vidyádhara youth descended from heaven, and gave him a valuable treasure of jewels, sent by Indra pleased with his self-abnegation, and taking Chakra in his arms, carried him to his city named Dhavala, and departed as he had come. Then Chakra delighted his relations by his arrival at the house of his parents, and, after telling his adventures, remained there without falling away from virtue. When Chandrasvámin had told this story, he said again to Mahípála, "Such evil fruits does opposition to one's parents produce, my son, but devotion to them is a wishing-cow of plenty: in illustration of this hear the following tale." Story of the hermit and the faithful wife. There was in old time a hermit of great austerity, who roamed in the forest. And one day a hen-crow, as he was sitting under the shade of a tree, dropped dirt upon him, so he looked at the crow with angry eyes. And the crow, as soon as he looked at it, was reduced to ashes; and so the hermit conceived a vain-glorious confidence in the might of his austerities. Once on a time, in a certain city, the hermit entered the house of a Bráhman, and asked his wife for alms. And that wife, who was devoted to her husband, answered him, "Wait a little, I am attending upon my husband." Then he looked at her with an angry look, and she laughed at him and said, "Remember, [780] I am not a crow." When the hermit heard that, he sat down in a state of astonishment, and remained wondering how she could possibly have come to know of the fate of the crow. Then, after she had attended upon her husband in the oblation to the fire and in other rites, the virtuous woman brought alms, and approached that hermit. Then the hermit joined his hands in the attitude of supplication, and said to that virtuous woman: "How did you come to know of my adventure with the crow in the forest; tell me first, and then I will receive your alms?" When the hermit said this, that wife, who adored her husband, said, "I know of no virtue other than devotion to my husband, accordingly by his favour I have such power of discernment. But go and visit a man here who lives by selling flesh, whose name is Dharmavyádha, from him thou shalt learn the secret of blessedness free from the consciousness of self." The hermit, thus addressed by the all-knowing faithful wife, took the portion of a guest, and after bowing before her, departed. Story of Dharmavyádha the righteous seller of flesh. [781] The next day he went in search of that Dharmavyádha, and approached him, as he was selling flesh in his shop. And as soon as Dharmavyádha saw the hermit, he said, "Have you been sent here, Bráhman, by that faithful wife?" When the hermit heard that, he said to Dharmavyádha in his astonishment,--"How come you to have such knowledge, being a seller of flesh?" When the hermit said this, Dharmavyádha answered him--"I am devoted to my father and mother, that is my only object in life. I bathe after I have provided them with the requisites for bathing, I eat after I have fed them, I lie down after I have seen them to bed; thus it comes to pass that I have such knowledge. And being engaged in the duties of my profession, I sell only for my subsistence the flesh of deer and other animals slain by others, not from desire of wealth. And I and that faithful wife do not indulge self-consciousness, the impediment of knowledge, so the knowledge of both of us is free from hindrance. Therefore do you, observing the vow of a hermit, perform your own duties, without giving way to self-consciousness, with a view to acquiring purity, in order that you may quickly attain the supreme brightness." When he had been thus instructed by Dharmavyádha, he went to his house and observed his practice, and afterwards he returned satisfied to the forest. And by his advice he became perfected, and the faithful wife and Dharmavyádha also attained perfection by such performance of their duties. "Such is the power of those who are devoted to husband or father and mother. So come, visit that mother who longs for a sight of you." When thus addressed by his father Chandrasvámin, Mahípála promised to go to his native land to please his mother. And he disclosed that of his own accord to Anantasvámin his spiritual father, and when he took upon him the burden of his kingdom, the king set out with his natural father by night. And at last he reached his own country, and refreshed his mother Devamati with a sight of him, as the spring refreshes the female cuckoo. And Mahípála stayed there some time with his mother, being welcomed by his relations, together with his father who related their adventures. In the meanwhile in Tárápura the princess, his wife Bandhumatí, who was sleeping within the house, woke up at the close of night. And discovering that her husband had gone somewhere, she was distressed at her lonely state, and could not find solace in the palace, the garden, or any other place. But she remained weeping, shedding tears that seemed to double her necklace, intent on lamentation only, desiring relief by death. But the minister Anantasvámin came and comforted her with hope-inspiring words, saying, "Before your husband went, he said to me, 'I am going away on some business and I will quickly return,' so do not weep, my daughter." Then she recovered self-control, though with difficulty. Then she remained continually honouring with gifts excellent Bráhmans, that came from a foreign country, in order to obtain news of her husband. And she asked a poor Bráhman, named Sangamadatta, who came for a gift, for tidings of her husband, having told him his name and the signs by which to recognize him. Then the Bráhman said, "I have never beheld a man of that kind; but, queen, you must not give way to excessive anxiety on this account. Doers of righteous actions eventually obtain reunion with loved ones, and in proof of that I will tell you a wonder which I saw, listen." Story of the treacherous Pásupata ascetic. As I was wandering round all the holy places, I came to the Mánasa lake on the Himálayas, and in it I saw, as in a mirror, [782] a house composed of jewels, and from that building there came out suddenly a man with a sword in his hand, and he ascended the bank of the lake, accompanied by a troop of celestial females. There he amused himself with the females in a garden in the recreation of drinking, and I was looking on from a distance unobserved, full of interest in the spectacle. In the meanwhile a man of prepossessing appearance came there from somewhere or other. And when he met me, I told him what I had seen. And with much interest I pointed out to him that man from a distance, and when he beheld him he told me his own story in the following words: Story of the king Tribhuvana. I am a king named Tribhuvana in the city of Tribhuvana. There a certain Pásupata ascetic for a long time paid me court. And being asked the reason by me, he at once asked me to be his ally in obtaining a sword concealed in a cavern, and I agreed to that. Then the Pásupata ascetic went with me at night, and having by means of a burnt-offering and other rites discovered an opening in the earth, the ascetic said to me, "Hero! enter thou first, and after thou hast obtained the sword, come out, and cause me also to enter; make a compact with me to do this." When he said this, I made that compact with him, and quickly entered the opening, and found a palace of jewels. And the chief of the Asura maidens who dwelt there came out from the palace, and out of love led me in, and there gave me a sword. She said, "Keep this sword which confers the power of flying in the air, and bestows all magical faculties." Then I remained there with her. But I remembered my compact, and going out with the sword in my hand, I introduced that ascetic into the palace of the Asuras by that opening. There I dwelt with the first Asura lady who was surrounded by her attendants, and he dwelt with the second. One day when I was stupefied with drinking, the ascetic treacherously took away from my side the sword, and grasped it in his own hand. When he had it in his grasp, he possessed great power, and with his hand he seized me and flung me out of the cavern. Then I searched for him for twelve years at the mouths of caverns, hoping that some time I might find him outside. And this very day the scoundrel has presented himself to my eyes, sporting with that very Asura lady who belongs to me. While the king Tribhuvana was relating this to me, O queen, that ascetic, stupefied with drink, went to sleep. And while he was asleep, the king went and took the sword from his side, and by its operation he recovered celestial might. Then the hero woke up that ascetic with a kick, and reproached the unfortunate man, but did not kill him. And then he entered the palace with the Asura lady and her attendants, recovered again like his own magic power. But the ascetic was much grieved at having lost his magic power. For the ungrateful, though long successful, are sure to fail at last. "Having seen this with my own eyes, I have now arrived here in the course of my wanderings; so be assured, queen, that you shall eventually be reunited to your beloved, like Tribhuvana, for the righteous does not sink." When Bandhumatí heard that from the Bráhman, she was highly delighted, and made him successful by giving him much wealth. And the next day a distinguished Bráhman came there from a distant land, and Bandhumatí eagerly asked him for tidings of her husband, telling his name and the tokens by which he might be recognized. Then that Bráhman said to her: "Queen, I have not seen your husband anywhere, but I, who have to-day come to your house, am named not without reason, the Bráhman Sumanas, [783] so you will quickly have your wishes satisfied, thus my heart tells me. And reunions do take place, even of the long separated. In proof of thus I will tell you the following tale; listen, queen." Story of Nala and Damayantí. Of old time there lived a king named Nala, whose beauty, I fancy, so surpassed that of the god of Love, that in disgust he offered his body as a burnt-offering in the fire of the eye of the enraged Siva. He had no wife, and when he made enquiries, he heard that Damayantí, the daughter of Bhíma the king of Vidarbha, would make him a suitable wife. And Bhíma, searching through the world, found that there was no king except Nala fit to marry his daughter. In the meanwhile Damayantí went down into a tank in her own city, to amuse herself in the water. There the girl saw a swan that had fed on blue and white lotuses, and by a trick she threw over it her robe and made it a prisoner in sport. But the celestial swan, when captured, said to her in accents that she could understand: "Princess, I will do you a good turn, let me go. There is a king of the name of Nala, whom even the nymphs of heaven bear on their hearts, like a necklace strung with threads of merit. [784] You are a wife fitted for him and he is a husband suited for you, so I will be an ambassador of Love to bring like to like." When she heard that, she thought that the celestial swan was a polished speaker, and so she let him go, saying--"So be it."--And she said, "I will not choose any husband but Nala," having her mind captivated by that prince, who had entered by the channel of her ear. And the swan departed thence, and quickly repaired to a tank resorted to by Nala, when bent on sporting in the water. And Nala, seeing that the swan was beautiful, took it captive out of curiosity by throwing his robe over it in sport. Then the swan said--"Set me free, O king, for I have come to benefit you; listen, I will tell you. There is in Vidarbha one Damayantí, the daughter of king Bhíma, the Tilottamá of the earth, to be desired even by gods. And she has chosen you as her future husband, having fallen in love with you on account of my description of your virtues; and I have come here to tell you. Nala was at the same time pierced with the words of that excellent swan, that were brightened by the splendid object they had in view, [785] and with the sharp arrows of the god of the flowery shafts. And he said to that swan, "I am fortunate, best of birds, in that I have been selected by her, as if by the incarnate fulfilment of my wishes." When the swan had been thus addressed by him and let go, it went and related the whole occurrence to Damayantí, as it took place, and then went whither it would. Now Damayantí was longing for Nala; so, by way of a device to obtain him, she sent her mother to ask her father to appoint for her the ceremony of the Svayamvara. And her father Bhíma consented, and sent messengers to all the kings on the earth, to invite them to the Svayamvara. And all the kings, when they had received the summons, set out for Vidarbha, and Nala went also eagerly, mounted on his chariot. And in the meanwhile, Indra and the other Lokapálas heard from the hermit Nárada of the Svayamvara of Damayantí, and of her love for Nala. And of them Indra, the Wind, the god of Fire, Yama and Varuna, longing for Damayantí, deliberated together, and went to Nala, and they found Nala setting off on the journey, and when he prostrated himself before them, they said to him "Go, Nala, and tell Damayantí this from us--'Choose one of us five; what is the use of choosing Nala who is a mortal? Mortals are subject to death, but the gods are undying.' And by our favour, thou shalt enter where she is, unperceived by the others." Nala said "So be it," and consented to do the errand of the gods. And he entered the apartments of Damayantí without being seen, and delivered that command of the gods, exactly as it was given. But when the virtuous woman heard that, she said "Suppose the gods are such, nevertheless Nala shall be my husband, I have no need of gods." When Nala had heard her utter this noble sentiment, and had revealed himself, he went and told it, exactly as it was said, to Indra and the others; and they, pleased with him, gave him a boon, saying, "We are thy servants from this time forth, and will repair to thee as soon as thought of, truthful man." Then Nala went delighted to Vidarbha, and Indra and the other gods assumed the form of Nala, with intent to deceive Damayantí. And they went to the court of Bhíma, assuming the attributes of mortals, and, when the Svayamvara began, they sat near Nala. Then Damayantí came, and leaving the kings who were being proclaimed one by one by her brother, gradually reached Nala. And when she saw six Nalas, all possessing shadows and the power of winking, [786] she thought in her perplexity, while her brother stood amazed, "Surely these five guardians of the world have produced this illusion to deceive me, but I think that Nala is the sixth here, and so I cannot go in any other direction." When the virtuous one had thus reflected, she stood facing the sun, with mind fixed on Nala alone, and spoke thus--"O guardians of the world, if even in sleep I have never fixed my heart on any but Nala, on account of that loyal conduct of mine shew me your real forms. And to a maiden any other men than her lover previously chosen are strangers, and she is to them the wife of another, so how comes this delusion upon you?" When the five, with Indra at their head, heard that, they assumed their own forms, and the sixth, the true Nala, preserved his true form. The princess in her delight cast upon the king her eye, beautiful as a blown blue lotus, and the garland of election. And a rain of flowers fell from heaven. Then king Bhíma performed the marriage ceremony of her and Nala. And the kings and the gods, Indra and the others, returned by the way that they came, after due honour had been done to them by the king of Vidarbha. But Indra and his companions saw on the way Kali and Dvápara, [787] and knowing that they had come for Damayantí, they said to them, "It is of no use your going to Vidarbha; we come thence; and the Svayamvara has taken place; Damayantí has chosen king Nala. When the wicked Kali and Dvápara heard that, they exclaimed in wrath, "Since she has chosen that mortal in preference to gods like thyself, we will certainly separate that couple." After making this vow they turned round and departed thence. And Nala remained seven days in the house of his father-in-law, and then departed, a successful man, for Nishada, with his wife Damayantí. There their love was greater than that of Siva and Párvatí. Párvatí truly is half of Siva, but Damayantí was Nala's self. And in due time Damayantí brought forth to Nala a son named Indrasena, and after that a daughter named Indrasená. And in the meanwhile Kali, who was resolved on effecting what he had promised, was seeking an occasion against Nala, who lived according to the Sástras. Then, one day, Nala lost his senses from drunkenness, and went to sleep without saying the evening prayer and without washing his feet. After Kali had obtained this opportunity, for which he had been watching day and night, he entered into the body of Nala. When Kali had entered his body, king Nala abandoned righteous practices and acted as he pleased. The king played dice, he loved female slaves, he spoke untruths, he slept in the day, he kept awake at night, he became angry without cause, he took wealth unjustly, he despised the good, and he honoured the bad. Moreover Dvápara entered into his brother Pushkara, having obtained an opportunity, and made him depart from the true path. And one day Nala saw, in the house of his younger brother Pushkara, a fine white bull, named Dánta. And Pushkara would not give the bull to his elder brother, though he wanted it and asked for it, because his respect for him had been taken away by Dvápara. And he said to him, "If you desire this bull, then win it from me at once at play." When Nala heard that challenge, in his infatuation he accepted it, and then those two brothers began to play against each other. Pushkara staked the bull, Nala staked elephants and other things, and Pushkara continually won, Nala as continually lost. In two or three days Nala had lost his army and his treasure, but he still refused to desist from gambling, though entreated to desist, for he was distracted by Kali. Damayantí, thinking that the kingdom was lost, put her children in a splendid chariot, and sent them to the house of her father. In the mean-while Nala lost his whole kingdom; then the hypocritical Pushkara said, "Since you have lost everything else, now stake Damayantí on the game against that bull of mine." This windy speech of Pushkara's, like a strong blast, made Nala blaze like fire; but he did not say anything unbecoming, nor did he stake his wife. Then Pushkara said to him, "If you will not stake your wife, then leave this country of mine with her." When Nala heard this, he left that country with Damayantí, and the king's officers saw him as far as the frontier. Alas! when Kali reduced Nala to such a state, say, what will be the lot of other mortals, who are like worms compared with him? Curse on this gambling, the livelihood of Kali and Dvápara, without law, without natural affection, such a cause of misfortunes even to royal sages. So Nala, having been deprived of his sovereignty by his brother, started to go to another land with Damayantí, and as he was journeying along, he reached the centre of a forest, exhausted with hunger. There, as he was resting with his wife, whose soft feet were pierced with darbha grass, on the bank of a river, he saw two swans arrive. And he threw his upper garment over them, to capture them for food, and those two swans flew away with it. And Nala heard a voice from heaven,--"These are those two dice in the form of swans, they have descended and flown off with your garment also." Then the king sat down despondent, with only one garment on, and providently shewed to Damayantí the way to her father's house; saying, "This is the way to Vidarbha, my beloved, to your father's house, this is the way to the country of the Angas, and this is the way to Kosala." When Damayantí heard this, she was terrified, thinking to herself--"Why does my husband tell me the way, as if he meant to abandon me?" Then the couple fed on roots and fruits, and when night came on, lay down both of them, wearied, in the wood, on a bed of kusa grass. And Damayantí, worn out with the journey, gradually dropt off to sleep, but Nala, desiring to depart, kept awake, deluded by Kali. So he rose up with one garment, deserting that Damayantí, and departed thence, after cutting off half her upper garment and putting it on. But Damayantí woke up at the end of the night, and when she did not see in the forest her husband, who had deserted her and gone, she thought for some time, and then lamented as follows: "Alas, my husband, great of heart, merciful even to your enemy! You that used to love me so well, what has made you cruel to me? And how will you be able to go alone on foot through the forests, and who will attend on you to remove your weariness? How will the dust defile on the journey your feet, that used to be stained with the pollen of the flowers in the garlands worn on the heads of kings! How will your body, that could not endure to be anointed with the powder of yellow sandal-wood, endure the heat of the sun in the middle of the day? What do I care for my young son? What for my daughter? What for myself? May the gods, if I am chaste, procure good fortune for you alone!" Thus Damayantí lamented, in her loneliness, and then set out by the path, which her husband had shewn her beforehand. And with difficulty she crossed the woods, forests, rivers, and rocks, and never did she depart from her devotion to her husband in, any point. And the might of her chastity preserved her on the way, [788] so that the hunter, who, after delivering her from the serpent, fell in love with her for a moment, was reduced to ashes. Then she joined a caravan of merchants, which she met on the way, and with them she reached the city of a king named Subáhu. There the daughter of the king saw her from her palace, and pleased with her beauty, had her brought and gave her as a present to her mother. Then she remained in attendance on the queen, respected by her, and when questioned, she answered only--"My husband has abandoned me." And in the meanwhile her father Bhíma, having heard the tidings of Nala's misfortune, sent trustworthy men in every direction, to make search for the royal couple. And one of them, his minister named Suvena, as he was wandering about disguised as a Bráhman, reached that palace of Subáhu. There he saw Damayantí, who always examined guests, and she saw with sorrow her father's minister. And having recognized one another, they wept together so violently, that Subáhu's queen heard it. And the queen had them summoned, and asked them the truth of the matter, and then she found out that the lady was Damayantí, the daughter of her sister. Then she informed her husband, and after shewing her honour, she sent her to the house of her father with Suvena and an army. There Damayantí remained, reunited with her two children, enquiring under her father's guidance for news of her husband. And her father sent out spies to look for her husband, who was distinguished by preternatural skill in cooking and driving. And king Bhíma commanded the spies to say; "Moon, where have you hid yourself so cruelly, deserting your young bride asleep in the forest, dear as a cluster of white lotuses, having taken a piece of her robe?" [789] This he told them to utter wherever they suspected the presence of Nala. And in the meanwhile king Nala travelled a long way at night in that forest, clothed with the half-garment, and at last he saw a jungle-fire. And he heard some one exclaim--"Great-hearted one, take me away from the neighbourhood of this fire, in order that I, being helpless, may not be burned up by it." [790] When Nala heard this, he looked round, and beheld a snake coiled up near the fire, having his head encircled with the rays of the jewels of his crest, [791] as if seized on the head by the jungle-fire, with terrible flaming weapons in its hand. He went up to it, and in compassion put it on his shoulder, and carried it a long distance, and when he wished to put it down, the snake said to him--"Carry me ten steps further, counting them as you go." Then Nala advanced, counting the steps, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven--listen, snake--eight, nine, ten, and when he said ten (dasa), [792] the snake took him at his word, and bit him in the front of the forehead, as he lay on his shoulder. That made the king small in the arms, deformed and black. Then the king took down the snake from his shoulder, and said to him--"Who art thou, and what kind of a return for my kindness is this which thou hast made?" When the snake heard this speech of Nala's, he answered him,--"King, know that I am a king of the snakes named Kárkotaka, and I gave you the bite for your good; that you will come to learn; when great ones wish to live concealed, a deformed appearance of body furthers their plans. Receive also from me this pair of garments, named the 'fire-bleached,' [793] you need only put them on and you will recover your true form." When Kárkotaka had said this, and had departed after giving those garments, Nala left that wood, and in course of time reached the city of Kosala. And going by the name of Hrasvabáhu, he took service as a cook in the family of king Rituparna, the sovereign of Kosala. And he acquired renown by making dishes of exquisite flavour, and by his skill in chariot-driving. And while Nala was living there, under the name of Hrasvabáhu, it happened that once upon a time one of the spies of the king of Vidarbha came there. And the spy heard men there saying,--"In this place there is a new cook, of the name of Hrasvabáhu, equal to Nala in his own special art and also in the art of driving." The spy suspected that the cook was Nala himself, and hearing that he was in the judgment-hall of the king, he went there and repeated the following Áryá verse, taught him by his master, "Moon, where have you hid yourself so cruelly, deserting your young bride asleep in the forest, dear as a cluster of white lotuses, having taken a piece of her robe?" The people present in the judgment-hall, when they heard that, thought that his words were those of a madman, but Nala, who stood there disguised as a cook, answered him, "What cruelty was there in the moon's becoming invisible to the lotus-cluster, when it reached and entered another region, after one part of the heaven [794] had become exhausted?" When the spy heard this, he surmised that the supposed cook was really Nala transformed by misfortune, and he departed thence, and when he reached Vidarbha, he told king Bhíma and his queen and Damayantí all that he had heard and seen. Then Damayantí, of her own accord, said to her father, "Without doubt that man is my husband disguised as a cook. So let this amusing artifice be employed to bring him here. Let a messenger be sent to king Rituparna, and the moment he arrives let him say to that king, 'Nala has gone off somewhere or other, no tidings are heard of him; accordingly to-morrow morning Damayantí will again make her Svayamvara; so come quickly to Vidarbha this very day;' and the moment the king hears his speech, he will certainly come here in one day, together with that husband of mine who is skilled in chariot-driving." Having thus debated with her father, Damayantí sent off that very moment a messenger to the city of Kosala with exactly this message. He went and told it, as it was given him to Rituparna, and the king thereupon, being excited, said affectionately to his attendant Nala, who was disguised as a cook: "Hrasvabáhu, you said--'I possess skill in chariot-driving.' So take me this very day to Vidarbha if you have sufficient endurance." When Nala heard that, he said, "Good! I will take you there," and thereupon he yoked swift horses, and made ready the splendid chariot. He said to himself; "Damayantí has spread this report of a Svayamvara in order to recover me, otherwise, I know, she would not have behaved in this way even in her dreams. So I will go there and see what happens." With such reflections he brought to Rituparna the chariot ready. And as soon as the king had mounted it, Nala proceeded to drive on that chariot with a speed exceeding even that of Garuda. Then Rituparna dropped his garment, and wished to stop the chariot in order to recover it, but Nala said to him,--"King, where is that garment of yours? Why the chariot has in this moment left it many yojanas behind." When Rituparna heard this, he said:--"Well, give me this skill in chariot-driving, and I will give you my skill in dice, so that the dice shall obey your command and you shall acquire skill in numbers. And now look; I will give you a proof of the truth of what I say. You see this tree in front of us; I will tell you the number of its leaves and fruits, and then do you count them for yourself and see." When he had said this, he told him the number of the leaves and fruits on that tree, and Nala counted them and found them exactly as many as he had said. Then Nala gave to Rituparna his skill in driving, and Rituparna gave to Nala his skill in dice and numbers. And Nala tested that skill on another tree, and found the number of leaves and fruits to be exactly what he had guessed. And while he was rejoicing, a black man issued from his body, and he asked him who he was. Then he said, "I am Kali; when you were chosen by Damayantí, I entered your body out of jealousy, so you lost your fortune at play. And when Kárkotaka bit you in the forest, you were not consumed, but I was burnt, as you see, being in your body. For to whom is a treacherous injury done to another likely to be beneficial? So I depart, my friend, for I have opportunities against others." After saying this, Kali vanished from his sight, and Nala at once became well-disposed as before, and recovered his former splendour. And he returned and remounted the chariot; and in the course of the same day he drove king Rituparna into Vidarbha, so rapidly did he get over the ground, and there the king was ridiculed by the people, who asked the cause of his coming; and he put up near the palace. And when he arrived, Damayantí knew of it, having heard the wonderful noise of the chariot, and she inly rejoiced, as she suspected that Nala had come too. And she sent her own maid to find out the truth, and she enquired into it, and came back and said to her mistress, who was longing for her beloved lord; "Queen, I have enquired into the matter; this king of Kosala heard a false report of your Svayamvara and has come here, and he has been driven here in one day by Hrasvabáhu his charioteer and cook, who is famous for his skill in managing chariots. And I went into the kitchen and saw that cook. And he is black and deformed, but possesses wonderful powers. It is miraculous that water gushed up in his pots and pans, without being put in, and wood burst into flames of its own accord, without having been lighted, [795] and various cates were produced in a moment. After I had seen this great miracle, I came back here." When Damayantí heard this from the maid, she reflected--"This cook, whom the fire and the water obey, and who knows the secret of chariot-driving, can be no other than my husband, and I suspect he has become changed and deformed on account of separation from me, but I will test him." When she had formed this resolve, she sent, by way of stratagem, her two children with that same maid, to shew them to him. And Nala, when he had seen his children and taken them on his knees after a long separation, wept silently with a flood of tears. And he said to the maid--"I have two children like these in the house of their maternal grandfather, I have been moved to sorrow by recollecting them." The maid returned with the children and told all to Damayantí, and then she conceived much hope. And early the next day she gave her maid this order; "Go and tell that cook of Rituparna's from me; 'I hear that there is no cook like you in the world, so come and prepare curry for me to-day.'" When the maid communicated to Nala this politic request, he got leave from Rituparna and came to Damayantí. And she said, "Tell me the truth; are you the king Nala disguised as a cook? I am drowned in a sea of anxiety, and you must to-day bring me safe to shore." When Nala heard that, he was full of joy, love, grief and shame, and with downcast face, he spoke, in a voice faltering from tears, this speech suited to the occasion,--"I am in truth that wicked Nala, hard as adamant, who in his madness behaved like fire in afflicting you." When he said this, Damayantí asked him--"If it is so, how did you become deformed?" Then Nala told her the whole of his adventures, from his making friends with Kárkotaka to the departure of Kali from him. And immediately he put on the pair of garments called the "fire-bleached," given him by Kárkotaka, and recovered on the spot his own original shape. When Damayantí saw that Nala had resumed his own charming form, the lotus of her face quickly expanded, and she quenched, as it were, with the waters of her eyes the forest-fire of her grief, and attained indescribable unequalled happiness. And Bhíma, the king of Vidarbha, quickly heard that intelligence from his joyful attendants, and coming there he welcomed Nala, who showed him becoming respect, and he made his city full of rejoicing. Then king Rituparna was welcomed with the observance of all outward courtesy and every hospitable rite [796] by king Bhíma, who in his heart could not help laughing, and after he had in return honoured Nala, he returned to Kosala. Then Nala lived there happily with his wife, describing to his father-in-law his outburst of wickedness due to the influence of Kali. And in a few days he returned to Nishada with the troops of his father-in-law, and he humbled his younger brother Pushkara, beating him by his knowledge of dice, but, righteous as he was, he gave him a share of the kingdom again, after Dvápara had left his body, and glad at having recovered Damayantí, he enjoyed his kingdom lawfully. When the Bráhman Sumanas had told this story to the princess Bandhumatí in Tárápura, whose husband was away, he went on to say to her--"Even thus, queen, do great ones, after enduring separation, enjoy prosperity, and following the example of the sun, after suffering a decline, they rise again. So you also, blameless one, shall soon recover your husband returning from his absence; use patient self-control, banish grief, and console yourself with the approaching gratification of your wishes in the return of your husband." When the virtuous Bráhman had spoken these appropriate words, she honoured him with much wealth, and taking refuge in patience, she remained there awaiting her beloved. And in a few days her husband Mahípála returned, with his father, bringing that mother of his from a distant land. And when he returned, furnishing a feast to all eyes, he gladdened Bandhumatí, as the full moon gladdens the lovely water of the ocean. Then Mahípála, on whom her father had already devolved the burden of the kingdom, enjoyed as a king desired pleasures with her. When prince Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, had heard in the company of his wife, from the mouth of his minister Marubhúti, this matchless romantic story, pleasing on account of its picture of affection, he was exceedingly pleased. BOOK X. CHAPTER LVII. We worship the elephantine proboseis of Ganesa, not to be resisted by his enemies, reddened with vermilion, a sword dispelling great arrogance. [1] May the third eye of Siva, which, when all three were equally wildly-rolling, blazed forth beyond the others, as he made ready his arrow upon the string, for the burning of Pura, protect you. May the row of nails of the Man-lion, [2] curved and red with blood, when he slew his enemy, and his fiery look askance, destroy your calamities. Story of the porter who found a bracelet. Thus Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, remained in Kausámbí in happiness, with his wives, and his ministers. And one day, when he was present, a merchant living in the city, came to make a representation to his father, as he was sitting on his throne. That merchant, of the name of Ratnadatta, entered, announced by the warder, and bowing before the king, said as follows: "O king, there is a poor porter here, of the name of Vasundhara; and suddenly he is found of late to be eating, drinking, and bestowing alms. So, out of curiosity, I took him to my house, and gave him food and drink to his heart's content, and when I had made him drunk. I questioned him, and he gave me this answer, 'I obtained from the door of the king's palace a bracelet with splendid jewels, and I picked out one jewel and sold it. And I sold it for a lakh of dínárs to a merchant named Hiranyagupta; this is how I come to be living in comfort at present." When he had said this, he shewed me that bracelet, which was marked with the king's name, and therefore I have come to inform your majesty of the circumstance." When the king of Vatsa heard that, he had the porter and the merchant of precious jewels summoned with all courtesy, and when he saw the bracelet, he said of himself; "Ah! I remember, this bracelet slipped from my arm when I was going round the city." And the courtiers asked the porter, "Why did you, when you had got hold of a bracelet marked with the king's name, conceal it?" He replied, "I am one who gets his living by carrying burdens, and how am I to know the letters of the king's name? When I got hold of it, I appropriated it, being burnt up with the misery of poverty." When he said this, the jewel-merchant, being reproached for keeping the jewel, said--"I bought it in the market, without putting any pressure on the man, and there was no royal mark upon it, though now it is said that it belongs to the king. And he has taken five thousand of the price, the rest is with me." When Yaugandharáyana, who was present, heard this speech of Hiranyagupta's, he said--"No one is in fault in this matter. What can we say against the porter who does not know his letters? Poverty makes men steal, and who ever gave up what he had found? And the merchant who bought it from him cannot be blamed." The king when he heard this decision of his prime minister's, approved it. And he took back his jewel from the merchant, paying him the five thousand dínárs, which had been spent by the porter, and he set the porter at liberty, after taking back his bracelet, and he, having consumed his five thousand, went free from anxiety to his own house. And the king, though in the bottom of his heart he hated that merchant Ratnadatta, as being a man who ruined those that reposed confidence in him, honoured him for his service. When they had all departed, Vasantaka came before the king, and said, "Ah! when men are cursed by destiny, even the wealth they obtain departs, for the incident of the inexhaustible pitcher has happened to this porter." Story of the inexhaustible pitcher. [3] For you must know that there lived long ago, in the city of Pátaliputra, a man of the name of Subhadatta, and he every day carried in a load of wood from the forest, and sold it, and so maintained his household. Now one day he went to a distant forest, and, as it happened, he saw there four Yakshas with heavenly ornaments and dresses. The Yakshas, seeing he was terrified, kindly asked him of his circumstances, and finding out that he was poor, they conceived pity for him, and said--"Remain here as a servant in our house, we will support your family for you without trouble on your part." When Subhadatta heard that, he agreed, and remained with them, and he supplied them with requisites for bathing and performed other menial offices for them. When the time for eating came, those Yakshas said to him--"Give us food from this inexhaustible pitcher." But he hesitated, seeing that it was empty, and then the Yakshas again said to him, smiling--"Subhadatta, do you not understand? Put your hand in the pitcher, and you will obtain whatever you want, for this is a pitcher that supplies whatever is required." When he heard that, he put his hand in the pitcher, and immediately he beheld all the food and drink that could be required. And Subhadatta out of that store supplied them and ate himself. Thus waiting on the Yakshas every day with devotion and awe, Subhadatta remained in their presence anxious about his family. But his sorrowing family was comforted by them in a dream, and this kindness on their part made him happy. At the termination of one month the Yakshas said to him, "We are pleased with this devotion of yours, we will grant you a boon, say what it shall be." When he heard that, he said to them, "Then give me this inexhaustible pitcher." Then the Yakshas said to him, "You will not be able to keep it, for, if broken, it departs at once, so choose some other boon." Though they warned him in these words, Subhadatta would not choose any other boon, so they gave him that inexhaustible pitcher. Then Subhadatta bowed before them delighted, and, taking that pitcher, quickly returned to his house, to the joy of his relations. Then he took out of that pitcher food and drink, and in order to conceal the secret, he placed them in other vessels, and consumed them with his relations. And as he gave up carrying burdens, and enjoyed all kinds of delights, his kinsmen one day said to him, when he was drunk; "How did you manage to acquire the means of all this enjoyment?" He was too much puffed up with pride to tell them plainly, but taking the wish-granting pitcher on his shoulder, he began to dance. [4] And as he was dancing, the inexhaustible pitcher slipped from his shoulder, as his feet tripped with over-abundance of intoxication, and falling on the ground, was broken in pieces. And immediately it was mended again, and reverted to its original possessors, but Subhadatta was reduced to his former condition, and filled with despondency. "So you see that these unfortunate persons, whose intellects are destroyed with the vice of drinking, and other vices, and with infatuation, cannot keep wealth, even when they have obtained it." When the king of Vatsa had heard this amusing story of the inexhaustible pitcher, he rose up, and bathed, and set about the other duties of the day. And Naraváhanadatta also bathed, and took food with his father, and at the end of the day went with his friends to his own house. There he went to bed at night, but could not sleep, and Marubhúti said to him in the hearing of the ministers: "I know, it is love of a slave-girl that prevents your summoning your wives, and you have not summoned the slave-girl, so you cannot sleep. But why in spite of your better knowledge do you still fall in love with hetæræ? For they have no goodness of character; in proof that they have not, hear the following tale:" Story of the merchant's son, the hetæra, and the wonderful ape Ála. There is in this country a great and opulent city named Chitrakúta. In it there lived a merchant named Ratnavarman, a prince among the wealthy. He had one son born to him by propitiating Siva, and he gave that son the name of Ísvaravarman. After he had studied the sciences, his father the rich merchant, who had no other son but him, seeing that he was on the verge of manhood, said to himself: "Providence has created in this world that fair and frail type of woman, the hetæra, to steal the wealth and life of rich young men blinded with the intoxication of youth. So I will entrust my son to some kuttiní, in order that he may learn the tricks of the hetæræ and not be deceived by them." Having thus reflected, he went with his son Ísvaravarman to the house of a certain kuttiní, whose name was Yamajihvá. There he saw that kuttiní, with massive jaw, and long teeth, and snub nose, instructing her daughter in the following words--"Every one is valued on account of wealth, a hetæra especially; and hetæræ who fall in love do not obtain wealth, therefore a hetæra should abandon passion. For rosy red, love's proper hue, is the harbinger of eclipse to the hetæra as to the evening twilight; a properly trained hetæra should exhibit love without sincerity, like a well-trained actress. With that she should gain a man's affections, then she should extract from him all his wealth, when he is ruined, she should finally abandon him, but if he should recover his wealth, she should take him back into favour. A hetæra, like a hermit, is the same towards a young man, a child, an old man, a handsome man, and a deformed man, and so she always attains the principal object of existence." [5] While the kuttiní was delivering this lesson to her daughter, Ratnavarman approached her, and after she had welcomed him, he took a seat by her side. And he said to her--"Reverend mother, teach my son this skill of the hetæra, in order that he may become clever in it. And I will give you a thousand dínárs by way of recompense." When the kuttiní heard his desire, she consented, and he paid the dínárs, and made over his son Ísvaravarman to her, and then returned home. Then Ísvaravarman, in the course of one year, learned in the house of Yamajihvá all the graceful accomplishments, and then returned to his father's house. And after he had attained sixteen years, he said to his father--"Wealth gives us religion and love, wealth gives us consideration and renown." When his father heard this, he exclaimed in approval, "It is even so," and being delighted, he gave him five crores by way of capital. The son took it, and set out on an auspicious day with a caravan, with the object of journeying to Svarnadvípa. And on the way he reached a town named Kánchanapura, and there he encamped in a garden, at a short distance outside the town. And after bathing and anointing himself, the young man entered the town, and went to a temple to see a spectacle. And there he saw a dancing-girl, of the name of Sundarí, dancing, like a wave of the sea of beauty [6] tossed up by the wind of youth. And the moment he saw her, he became so devoted to her, that the instructions of the kuttiní fled far from him, as if in anger. At the end of the dance, he sent a friend to solicit her, and she bowed and said--"I am highly favoured." And Ísvaravarman left vigilant guards in his camp, to watch over his treasure, and went himself to the house of that Sundarí. And when he came, her mother, named Makarakatí, honoured him with the various rites of hospitality which became the occasion. And at nightfall she introduced him into a chamber with a canopy of flashing jewels and a bed. There he passed the night with Sundarí, [7] whose name expressed her nature, and who was skilled in all movements of the dance. And the next day he could not bring himself to part from her, as she shewed great affection for him, and never left his side. And the young merchant gave her twenty-five lakhs of gold and jewels in those two days. But Sundarí, with a false affectation of disinterestedness, refused to take them, saying--"I have obtained much wealth, but I never found a man like you; since I have obtained you, what should I do with wealth?" But her mother Makarakatí, whose only child she was, said to her, "Henceforth, whatever wealth belongs to us, is as much his as his own property, so take it, my daughter, as a contribution to our common stock, what harm is there in that?" When Sundarí's mother said this to her, she took it with affected unwillingness, and the foolish Ísvaravarman thought she was really in love with him. While the merchant remained in her house, charmed by her beauty, her dancing, and singing, two months passed, and in course of time he bestowed upon her two crores. Then his friend, named Arthadatta, of his own accord came to him and said--"Friend, has all that training of yours, though painfully acquired from the kuttiní, proved useless, now that the occasion has presented itself, as skill in the use of weapons does to a coward, in that you believe that there is sincerity in this love of a hetæra? Is water ever really found in desert-mirages? So let us go before all your wealth is consumed, for, if your father were to hear of it, he would be very angry." When his friend said this to him, the merchant's son said, "It is true that no reliance can be placed upon hetæræ as a rule, but Sundarí is not like the rest of her class, for, if she were to lose sight of me for a moment, my friend, she would die. So do you break it to her, if we must in any case go." When he said this to Arthadatta, Arthadatta said to Sundarí, in the presence of Ísvaravarman and her mother Makarakatí, "You entertain extraordinary affection for Ísvaravarman, but he must certainly go on a trading expedition to Svarnadvípa immediately. There he will obtain so much wealth, that he will come and live with you in happiness all his life, consent to it, my friend." When Sundarí heard this, she gazed on the face of Ísvaravarman with tears in her eyes and assumed despondency, and said to Arthadatta, "What am I to say? you gentlemen know best. Who can rely on any one before seeing the end? Never mind! Let fate deal with me as it will!" When she said this, her mother said to her, "Do not be grieved, control yourself; your lover will certainly return when he has made his fortune; he will not abandon you." In these words her mother consoled her, but made an agreement with her, and had a net secretly prepared in a well, that lay in the road they must take. And then Ísvaravarman's mind was in a state of tremulous agitation about parting, and Sundarí, as if out of grief, took but little food and drink. And she shewed no inclination for singing, music, or dancing, but she was consoled by Ísvaravarman with various affectionate attentions. Then, on the day named by his friend, Ísvaravarman set out from the house of Sundarí, after the kuttiní had offered a prayer for his success. And Sundarí followed him weeping, with her mother, outside the city, as far as the well in which the net had been stretched. There he made Sundarí turn back, and he was proceeding on his journey, when she flung herself into the well on the top of the net. Then a loud cry was heard from her mother, from the female slaves, and all the attendants, "Ah! my daughter! Ah! mistress!" That made the merchant's son and his friend turn round, and when he heard that his beloved had thrown herself into a well, he was for a moment stupefied with grief. And Makarakatí, lamenting with loud cries, made her servants, who were attached to her, and in the secret, go down into the well. They let themselves down by means of ropes, and exclaiming, "Thank heaven, she is alive, she is alive," they brought up Sundarí from the well. When she was brought up, she assumed the appearance of one nearly dead, and after she had mentioned the name of the merchant's son, who had returned, she slowly began to cry. But he, being comforted, took her to her house in great delight, accompanied by his attendants, returning there himself. And having made up his mind that the love of Sundarí was to be relied on, and considering that, by obtaining her, he had obtained the real end of his birth, he once more gave up the idea of continuing his journey. And when he had taken up his abode there, determined to remain, his friend said to him once more, "My friend, why have you ruined yourself by infatuation? Do not rely on the love of Sundarí simply because she flung herself into a well, for the treacherous schemes of a kuttiní are not to be fathomed even by Providence. And what what will you say to your father, when you have spent all your property, or where will you go? So leave this place even at this eleventh hour, if your mind is sound." When the merchant's son heard this speech of his friend's, he paid no attention to it, and in another month he spent those other three crores. Then he was stripped of his all; and the kuttiní Makarakatí had him seized by the back of the neck and turned out of Sundarí's house. But Arthadatta and the others quickly returned to their own city, and told the whole story, as it happened, to his father. His father Ratnavarman, that prince of merchants, was much grieved when he heard it, and in great distress went to the kuttiní Yamajihvá, and said to her, "Though you received a large salary, you taught my son so badly, that Makarakatí has with ease stripped him of all his wealth." When he had said this, he told her all the story of his son. Then the old kuttiní Yamajihvá said: "Have your son brought back here; I will enable him to strip Makarakatí of all her wealth." When the kuttiní Yamajihvá made this promise, Ratnavarman quickly sent off that moment his son's well-meaning friend Arthadatta with a message, to bring him, and to take at the same time means for his subsistence. So Arthadatta went back to that city of Kánchanapura, and told the whole message to Ísvaravarman. And he went on to say to him--"Friend, you would not do what I advised you, so you have now had personal experience of the untrustworthy dispositions of hetæræ. After you had given that five crores, you were ejected neck and crop. What wise man looks for love in hetæræ or for oil in sand? Or why do you put out of sight this unalterable nature of things? [8] A man is wise, self-restrained, and possesses happiness, only so long as he does not fall within the range of woman's cajoleries. So return to your father and appease his wrath." With these words Arthadatta quickly induced him to return, and encouraging him, led him into the presence of his father. And his father, out of love for his only son, spoke kindly to him, and again took him to the house of Yamajihvá. And when she questioned him, he told his whole story by the mouth of Arthadatta, down to the circumstance of Sundarí's flinging herself into the well, and how he lost his wealth. Then Yamajihvá said--"I indeed am to blame, because I forgot to teach him this trick. For Makarakatí stretched a net in the well, and Sundarí flung herself upon that, so she was not killed. Still there is a remedy in this case." Having said this, the kuttiní made her female slaves bring her monkey named Ála. And in their presence she gave the monkey her thousand dínárs, and said--"Swallow these," and the monkey, being trained to swallow money, did so. Then she said, "Now, my son give twenty to him, twenty-five to him, and sixty to him, and a hundred to him." And the monkey, as often as Yamajihvá told him to pay a sum, brought up the exact number of dínárs, and gave them as commanded. [9] And after Yamajihvá had shewn this device of Ála, she said to Ísvaravarman, "Now take with you this young monkey. And repair again to the house of Sundarí, and keep asking him day by day for sums of money, which you have secretly made him swallow. And Sundarí, when she sees Ála, resembling in his powers the wishing-stone, will beg for him, and will give you all she has so as to obtain possession of the ape, and clasp him to her bosom. And after you have got her wealth, make him swallow enough money for two days, and give him to her, and then depart to a distance without delay." After Yamajihvá had said this, she gave that ape to Ísvaravarman, and his father gave him two crores by way of capital. And with the ape and the money he went once more to Kánchanapura, and despatching a messenger on in front, he entered the house of Sundarí. Sundarí welcomed him as if he were an incarnation of perseverance, which includes in itself all means for attaining an end, and his friend with him, embracing him round the neck, and making other demonstrations. Then Ísvaravarman, having gained her confidence, said to Arthadatta in her presence in the house: "Go, and bring Ála." He said, "I will," and went and brought the monkey. And as the monkey had before swallowed a thousand dínárs, he said to him, "Ála, my son, give us to-day three hundred dínárs for our eating and drinking, and a hundred for betel and other expenses, and give one hundred to our mother Makarakatí, and a hundred to the Bráhmans, and give the rest of the thousand to Sundarí." When Ísvaravarman said this, the monkey brought up the dínárs he had before swallowed, to the amounts ordered, and gave them for the various objects required. So by this artifice Ála was made to supply every day the necessary expenses, for the period of a fortnight, and in the meanwhile Makarakatí [10] and Sundarí began to think; "Why this is a very wishing-stone which he has got hold of in the form of an ape, which gives every day a hundred dínárs; if he would only give it us, all our desires would be accomplished." Having thus debated in private with her mother, Sundarí said to that Ísvaravarman, when he was sitting at his ease after dinner,--"If you really are well pleased with me, give me Ála." But when Ísvaravarman heard that, he answered laughingly, "He is my father's all in the world, and it is not proper to give him away." When he said this, Sundarí said to him again, "Give him me and I will give you five crores." Thereupon Ísvaravarman said with an air of decision, "If you were to give me all your property, or indeed this city, it would not do to give him you, much less for your crores." When Sundarí heard this, she said, "I will give you all I possess; but give me this ape, otherwise my mother will be angry with me." And thereupon she clung to Ísvaravarman's feet. Then Arthadatta and the others said, "Give it her, happen what will." Then Ísvaravarman promised to give it her, and he spent the day with the delighted Sundarí. And the next day he gave to Sundarí, at her earnest entreaties, that ape, which had in secret been made to swallow two thousand dínárs, and he immediately took by way of payment all the wealth in her house, and went off quickly to Svarnadvípa to trade. And to Sundarí's delight, the monkey Ála, when asked, gave her regularly a thousand dínárs for two days. But on the third day he did not give her anything, though coaxed to do it, then Sundarí struck the ape with her fist. And the monkey, being beaten, sprang up in a rage, and bit and scratched the faces of Sundarí and her mother, who were thrashing him. Then the mother, whose face was streaming with blood, flew in a passion and beat the ape with sticks, till he died on the spot. When Sundarí saw that he was dead, and reflected that all her wealth was gone, she was ready to commit suicide for grief, and so was her mother. And when the people of the town heard the story, they laughed and said, "Because Makarakatí took away this man's wealth by means of a net, he in his turn has stripped her of all her property, like a clever fellow that he is, by means of a pet; she was sharp enough to net him, but did not detect the net laid for herself. Then Sundarí, with her scratched face and vanished wealth, was with difficulty restrained by her relations from destroying herself, and so was her mother. And Ísvaravarman soon returned from Svarnadvípa to the house of his father in Chitrakúta. And when his father saw him returned, having acquired enormous wealth, he rewarded the kuttiní Yamajihvá with treasure, and made a great feast. And Ísvaravarman, seeing the matchless deceitfulness of hetæræ, became disgusted with their society, and taking a wife remained in his own house. [11] "So you see, king, that there never dwells in the minds of hetæræ even an atom of truth, unalloyed with treachery, so a man who desires prosperity should not take pleasure in them, as their society is only to be gained by the wealthy, any more than in uninhabited woods to be crossed only with a caravan. [12]" "When Naraváhanadatta heard, from the mouth of Marubhúti, the above story, word for word, of Ála and the net, he and Gomukha approved it, and laughed heartily. CHAPTER LVIII. When Marubhúti had thus illustrated the untrustworthy character of hetæræ, the wise Gomukha told this tale of Kumudiká, the lesson of which was the same. Story of king Vikramasinha, the hetæra, and the young Bráhman. There was in Pratishthána a king named Vikramasinha, who was made by Providence a lion in courage, so that his name expressed his nature. He had a queen of lofty lineage, beautiful and beloved, whose lovely form was her only ornament, and she was called Sasilekhá. Once on a time, when he was in his city, five or six of his relations combined together, and going to his palace, surrounded him. Their names were Mahábhata, Vírabáhu, Subáhu, Subhata and Pratápáditya, all powerful kings. The king's minister was proceeding to try the effect of conciliation on them, but the king set him aside, and went out to fight with them. And when the two armies had begun to exchange showers of arrows, the king himself entered the fray, mounted on an elephant, confiding in his might. And when the five kings, Mahábhata and the others, saw him, seconded only by his bow, dispersing the army of his enemies, they all attacked him together. And as the numerous force of the five kings made an united charge, the force of Vikramasinha, being inferior in number, was broken. Then his minister Anantaguna, who was at his side, said, "Our force is routed for the present, there is no chance of victory to-day, and you would engage in this conflict with an overwhelming force in spite of my advice, so now at the last moment do what I recommend you, in order that the affair may turn out prosperously; come now, descend from your elephant, and mount a horse, and let us go to another country; if you live, you will conquer your enemies on some future occasion." When the minister said this, the king readily got down from his elephant, and mounted on a horse, and left his army in company with him. And in course of time, the king, in disguise, reached with his minister the city of Ujjayiní. There he entered with his minister the house of a hetæra, named Kumudiká, renowned for her wealth; and she, seeing him suddenly entering the house, thought, "This is a distinguished hero that has come to my house: and his majesty and the marks on his body shew him to be a great king, so my desire is sure to be attained if I can make him my instrument." Having thus reflected, Kumudiká rose up and welcomed him, and entertained him hospitably, and immediately she said to the king, who was wearied,--"I am fortunate, to-day the good deeds of my former life have borne fruit, in that Your Majesty has hallowed my house by coming to it in person. So by this favour Your Majesty has made me your slave. The hundred elephants, and two myriads of horses, and house full of jewels, which belong to me, are entirely at your majesty's disposal." Having said this, she provided the king and his minister with baths and other luxuries, all in magnificent style. Then the wearied king lived in her palace, at his ease, with her, who put her wealth at his disposal. He consumed her substance and gave it away to petitioners, and she did not show any anger against him on that account, but was rather pleased at it. Thereupon the king was delighted, thinking that she was really attached to him, but his minister Anantaguna, who was with him, said to him in secret: "Your majesty, hetæræ are not to be depended upon, though, I must confess, I cannot guess the reason why Kumudiká shews you love." When the king heard this speech of his, he answered him: "Do not speak thus; Kumudiká would even lay down her life for my sake. If you do not believe it, I will give you a convincing proof." After the king had said this to his minister, he adopted this artifice; he took little to eat and little to drink, and so gradually attenuated his body, and at last he made himself as dead, without movement, prostrate on the ground. Then his attendants put him on a bier, and carried him to the burning-ghat with lamentations, while Anantaguna affected a grief which he did not feel. And Kumudiká, out of grief, came and ascended the funeral pyre with him, though her relations tried to prevent her. But before the fire was lighted, the king, perceiving that Kumudiká had followed him, rose up with a yawn. And all his attendants took him home with Kumudiká to his lodging, exclaiming, "Fortunate is it that our king has been restored to life." Then a feast was made, and the king recovered his normal condition, and said in private to his minister,--"Did you observe the devotion of Kumudiká?" Then the minister said,--"I do not believe even now. You may be sure that there is some reason for her conduct, so we must wait to get to the bottom of the matter. But let us reveal to her who we are, in order that we may obtain a force granted by her, and another force supplied by your ally, and so smite our enemies in battle." While he was saying this, the spy, that had been secretly sent out, returned, and when questioned, answered as follows; "Your enemies have overrun the country, and queen Sasilekhá, having heard from the people a false report of your majesty's death, has entered the fire." When the king heard this, he was smitten by the thunderbolt of grief, and lamented--"Alas! my queen! Alas, chaste lady!" Then Kumudiká at last came to know the truth, and after consoling the king Vikramasinha, she said to him; "Why did not the king give me the order long ago? Now punish your enemies with my wealth and my forces." When she said this, the king augmented the force by means of her wealth, and repaired to a powerful king who was an ally of his. And he marched with his forces and those forces of his own, and after killing those five enemies in battle, he got possession of their kingdoms into the bargain. Then he was delighted, and said to Kumudiká who accompanied him; "I am pleased with you, so tell me what I can do to gratify you." Then Kumudiká said--"If you are really pleased, my lord, then extract from my heart this one thorn that has long remained there. I have an affection for a Bráhman's son, of the name of Srídhara, in Ujjayiní, whom the king has thrown into prison for a very small fault, so deliver him out of the king's hand. Because I saw by your royal marks, that your majesty was a glorious hero, and destined to be successful, and able to effect this object of mine, I waited on you with devoted attentions. Moreover, I ascended that pyre out of despair of attaining my object, considering that life was useless without that Bráhman's son. When the hetæra said this, the king answered her; "I will accomplish it for you, fair one, do not despair." After saying this, he called to mind his minister's speech, and thought--"Anantaguna was right, when he said that hetæræ were not to be depended upon. But I must gratify the wish of this miserable creature." Thus resolved, he went with his troops to Ujjayiní, and after getting Srídhara set at liberty, and giving him much wealth, he made Kumudiká happy by uniting her with her beloved there. And after returning to his city, he never disobeyed the advice of his minister, and so in time he came to enjoy the whole earth. "So you see, the hearts of hetæræ are fathomless and hard to understand." Then Gomukha stopped, after he had told this story. But then Tapantaka said in the presence of Naraváhanadatta--"Prince, you must never repose any confidence at all in women, for they are all light, even those that, being married or unmarried, dwell in their father's house, as well as those that are hetæræ by profession. I will tell you a wonder which happened in this very place, hear it. Story of the faithless wife who burnt herself with her husband's body. There was a merchant in this very city named Balavarman, and he had a wife named Chandrasrí, and she beheld from a window a handsome merchant's son, of the name of Sílahara, and she sent her female friend to invite him to her house, and there she used to have assignations with him in secret. And while she was in the habit of meeting him there every day, her attachment to him was discovered by all her friends and relations. But her husband Balavarman was the only one who did not discover that she was unchaste; very often men blinded by affection do not discover the wickedness of their wives. Then a burning fever seized Balavarman, and the merchant consequently was soon reduced to a very low state. But, though he was in this state, his wife went every day to her friend's house, to meet her paramour. And the next day, while she was there, her husband died. And on hearing of it she returned, quickly taking leave of her lover. And out of grief for her husband, she ascended the pyre with his body, being firmly resolved, though her attendants, who knew her character, tried to dissuade her. [13] "Thus is the way of a woman's heart truly hard to understand. They fall in love with strange men, and die when separated from their husbands." When Tapantaka said this, Harisikha said in his turn, "Have you not heard what happened in this way to Devadása?" Story of the faithless wife who had her husband murdered. Of old time there lived in a village a householder, named Devadása, and he had a wife named with good cause Duhsílá. [14] And the neighbours knew that she was in love with another man. Now, once on a time, Devadása went to the king's court on some business. And his wife, who wished to have him murdered, took advantage of the occasion to bring her paramour, whom she concealed on the roof of the house. And in the dead of night she had her husband Devadása killed by that paramour, when he was asleep. And she dismissed her paramour, and remained quiet until the morning, when she went out, and exclaimed, "My husband has been killed by robbers." Then his relations came there, and after they had seen his body, they said, "If he was killed by thieves, why did they not carry off anything?" After they had said this, they asked her young son, who was there, "Who killed your father?" Then he said plainly; "A man had gone up on the roof here in the day, he came down in the night, and killed my father before my eyes; but first my mother took me and rose up from my father's side." When the boy said this, the dead man's relations knew that Devadása had been killed by his wife's paramour, and they searched him out, and put him to death then and there, and they adopted that boy and banished Duhsílá. "So you see, a woman, whose heart is fixed on another man, infallibly kills like the snake." When Harisikha said this, Gomukha said again--"Why should we tell any out-of-the-way story? Listen to the ridiculous fate that befell Vajrasára here, the servant of the king of Vatsa." Story of Vajrasára whose wife cut off his nose and ears. He, being brave and handsome, had a beautiful wife that came from Málava, whom he loved more than his own body. Once on a time his wife's father, longing to see her, came in person, accompanied by his son, from Málava, to invite him and her. Then Vajrasára entertained him, and informed the king, and went, as he had been invited to do, to Málava with his wife and his father-in-law. And after he had rested a month only in his father-in-law's house, he came back here to attend upon the king, but that wife of his remained there. Then, after some days had passed, suddenly a friend of the name of Krodhana came to him, and said:--"Why have you ruined your family by leaving your wife in her father's house? For the abandoned woman has there formed a connexion with another man. This was told me to-day by a trustworthy person who came from that place. Do not suppose that it is untrue; punish her, and marry another." When Krodhana had said this, he went away, and Vajrasára stood bewildered for a moment, and then reflected--"I suspect this may be true; otherwise, why did she not come back, though I sent a man to summon her? So I will go myself to bring her, and see what the state of the case is." Having formed this resolution, he went to Málava, and after taking leave of his father-in-law and his mother-in-law, he set out with his wife. And after he had gone a long distance, he eluded his followers by a trick, and going by the wrong path, entered with his wife a dense wood. He sat down in the middle of it, and said to her, out of hearing of any one: "I have heard from a trustworthy friend, that you are in love with another, and when I, remaining at home, sent for you, you did not come; so tell me the truth; if you do not, I will punish you." When she heard this, she said: "If this is your intention, why do you ask me? Do what you like." When Vajrasára heard this contemptuous speech of hers, he was angry and tied her up, and began to beat her with creepers. But while he was stripping off her clothes, he felt his passion renewed, and asked her to forgive him, whereupon she said; "I will, if I may tie you up and beat you with creepers, in the same way as you tied me up and beat me, but not otherwise." Vajrasára, whose heart was made like stubble by love, consented, for he was blinded by passion. Then she bound him firmly, hand and foot, to a tree, and, when he was bound, she cut off his ears and nose with his own sword, and the wicked woman took his sword and clothes, and disguising herself as a man, departed whither she would. But Vajrasára, with his nose and ears cut off, remained there, depressed by great loss of blood, and loss of self-respect. Then a certain benevolent physician, who was wandering through the wood in search of healing herbs, saw him, and out of compassion unbound him, and brought him home to his house. And Vajrasára, having been brought round by him, slowly returned to his own house, but he did not find that wicked wife, though he sought for her. And he described the whole occurrence to Krodhana, and he related it in the presence of the king of Vatsa; and all the people in the king's court mocked him, saying, that his wife had justly taken away his man's dress and suitably punished him, because he had lost all manly spirit and faculty of just resentment, and so become a woman. But in spite of their ridicule he remains there with heart of adamant, proof against shame. So what confidence, your Royal Highness, can be placed in women? When Gomukha had said this, Marubhúti went on to say, "The mind of woman is unstable, hear a tale in illustration of this truth." Story of king Sinhabala and his fickle wife. Formerly there dwelt in the Deccan a king, of the name of Sinhabala. And his wife named Kalyánavatí, the daughter of a prince of Málava, was dear to him above all the women of his harem. And the king ruled the realm with her as consort, but once on a time he was expelled from his kingdom by his powerful relations, who banded together against him. And then the king, accompanied by the queen, with his weapons and but few attendants, set out for the house of his father-in-law in Málava. And as he was going along through a forest, which lay in his road, a lion charged him, and the hero easily cut it in two with a stroke of his sword. And when a wild elephant came at him trumpeting, he circled round it and cut off with his sword its trunk and feet, and stripped it of its jewel, and killed it. And alone he dispersed the hosts of bandits like lotuses, and trampled them, as the elephant, lord of the forest, tramples the beds of white water-lilies. Thus he accomplished the journey, and his wonderful courage was seen, and so he reached Málava, and then this sea of valour said to his wife: "You must not tell in your father's house this that happened to me on the journey, it will bring shame to me, my queen, for what is there laudable in courage displayed by a man of the military caste?" After he had given her this injunction, he entered his father-in-law's house with her, and when eagerly questioned by him, told his story. His father-in-law honoured him, and gave him elephants and horses, and then he repaired to a very powerful king named Gajáníka. But being intent on conquering his enemies, he left his wife Kalyánavatí there in her father's house. Some days after he had gone, his wife, while standing at the window, saw a certain man. The moment she saw him, he captivated her heart by his good looks; and being drawn on by love, she immediately thought, "I know, no one is more handsome or more brave than my husband, but alas! my mind is attracted towards this man. So let what must be, be. I will have an interview with him." So she determined in her own mind, and told her desire to a female attendant, who was her confidante. And she made her bring him at night, and introduce him into the women's apartments by the window, pulling him up with a rope. When the man was introduced, he had not courage to sit boldly on the sofa on which she was, but sat apart on a chair. The queen, when she saw that, was despondent, thinking he was a mean man, and at that very moment a snake, which was roaming about, came down from the roof. When the man saw the snake, he sprang up quickly in fear, and taking his bow, he killed the snake with an arrow. And when it fell dead, he threw it out of the window, and in his delight at having escaped that danger, the coward danced for joy. When Kalyánavatí saw him dancing, she was cast down, and thought to herself over and over again: "Alas! alas! What have I to do with this mean-spirited coward?" And her friend, who was a discerning person, saw that she was disgusted, and so she went out, and quickly returned with assumed trepidation, and said, "Queen, your father has come, so let this young man quickly return to his own house by the way by which he came." When she said this, he went out of the window by means of the rope, and being overpowered by fear, he fell, but as luck would have it, he was not killed. When he had gone, Kalyánavatí said to her confidante,--"My friend, you have acted rightly in turning out this low fellow. [15] You penetrated my feelings, for my heart is vexed. My husband, after slaying tigers and lions, conceals it through modesty, and this cowardly man, after killing a snake, dances for joy. So why should I desert such a husband and fall in love with a common fellow? Curse on my unstable mind, or rather curse on women, who are like flies that leave camphor and haste to impurity!" The queen spent the night in these self-reproaches, and afterwards remained waiting in her father's house for the return of her husband. In the meanwhile Sinhabala, having been supplied with another army by king Gajáníka, slew those five wicked relations. Then he recovered his kingdom, and at the same time brought back his wife from her father's house, and after loading his father-in-law with abundance of wealth, he ruled the earth for a long time without opposition. "So you see, king, that the mind of even discerning women is fickle, and, though they have brave and handsome husbands, wanders hither and thither, but women of pure character are scarce." When Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, had heard this story related by Marubhúti, he sank off into a sound sleep and so passed the night. CHAPTER LIX. Early the next day, Naraváhanadatta, after he had performed his necessary duties, went to his garden by way of amusement. And while he was there, he saw first a blaze of splendour descend from heaven, and after it a company of many Vidyádhara females. And in the middle of those glittering ones, he saw a maiden charming to the eye like a digit of the moon in the middle of the stars, with face like an opening lotus, with rolling eyes like circling bees, with the swimming gait of a swan, diffusing the perfume of a blue lotus, with dimples charming like waves, with waist adorned with a string of pearls, like the presiding goddess of the lovely lake in Cupid's garden, appearing in bodily form. And the prince, when he saw that charming enamoured creature, a medicine potent to revive the god of love, was disturbed like the sea, when it beholds the orb of the moon. And he approached her, saying to his ministers--"Ah! extraordinary is the variety in producing fair ones that is characteristic of Providence!" And when she looked at him with a sidelong look tender with passion, he asked her--"Who are you, auspicious one, and why have you come here?" When the maiden heard that, she said, "Listen, I will tell you." "There is a town of gold on the Himálayas, named Kánchanasringa. In it there lives a king of the Vidyádharas, named Sphatikayasas, who is just, and kind to the wretched, the unprotected, and those who seek his aid. Know that I am his daughter, born to him by the queen Hemaprabhá, in consequence of a boon granted by Gaurí. And I, being the youngest child, and having five brothers, and being dear to my father as his life, kept by his advice propitiating Gaurí with vows and hymns. She, being pleased, bestowed on me all the magic sciences, and deigned to address me thus--'Thy might in science shall be tenfold that of thy father, and thy husband shall be Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, the future emperor of the Vidyádharas. After the consort of Siva had said this, she disappeared, and by her favour I obtained the sciences and gradually grew up. And last night the goddess appeared to me and commanded me--'To-morrow, my daughter, thou must go and visit thy husband, and thou must return here the same day, for in a month thy father, who has long entertained this intention, will give thee in marriage.' The goddess, after giving me this command, disappeared, and the night came to an end; so here I am come, your Highness, to pay you a visit. So now I will depart." Having said this, Saktiyasas flew up into the heaven with her attendants, and returned to her father's city. But Naraváhanadatta, being eager to marry her, went in disappointed, considering the month as long as a yuga. And Gomukha, seeing that he was despondent, said to him, "Listen, prince, I will tell you a delightful story." Story of king Sumanas, the Nisháda maiden and the learned parrot. [16] In old time there was a city named Kánchanapurí, and in it there lived a great king named Sumanas. He was of extraordinary splendour, and crossing difficult and inaccessible regions, he conquered the fortresses and fastnesses of his foes. Once, as he was sitting in the hall of assembly, the warder said to him--"King, the daughter of the king of the Nishádas, named Muktálatá, is standing outside the door with a parrot in a cage, accompanied by her brother Víraprabha, and wishes to see your Majesty." The king said "Let her enter," and, introduced by the warder, the Bhilla maiden entered the enclosure of the king's hall of assembly. And all there, when they saw her beauty, thought--"This is not a mortal maiden, surely this is some heavenly nymph." And she bowed before the king and spoke as follows--"King, here is a parrot that knows the four Vedas, called Sástraganja, a poet skilled in all the sciences and in the graceful arts, and I have brought him here to-day by the order of king Maya, so receive him." With these words she handed over the parrot, and it was brought by the warder near the king, as he had a curiosity to see it, and it recited the following sloka: "King, this is natural, that the black-faced smoke of thy valour should be continually increased by the windy sighs of the widows of thy enemies, but this is strange, that the strong flame of thy valour blazes in the ten cardinal points all the more fiercely on account of the overflowing of the copious tears wrung from them by the humiliation of defeat." When the parrot had recited this sloka, it began to reflect, and said again, "What do you wish to know? tell me from what sástra I shall recite." Then the king was much astonished, but his minister said--"I suspect, my lord, this is some rishi of ancient days become a parrot on account of a curse, but owing to his piety he remembers his former birth, and so recollects what he formerly read." When the ministers said this to the king, the king said to the parrot--"I feel curiosity, my good parrot, tell me your story, where is your place of birth? How comes it that in your parrot condition you know the sástras? Who are you?" Then the parrot shed tears and slowly spoke: "The story is sad to tell, O king, but listen, I will tell it in obedience to thy command." The parrot's account of his own life as a parrot. Near the Himálayas, O king, there is a rohiní tree, which resembles the Vedas, in that many birds take refuge in its branches that extend through the heaven, as Bráhmans in the various branches of the sacred tradition. [17] There a cock-parrot used to dwell with his hen, and to that pair I was born, by the influence of my evil works in a former life. And as soon as I was born, the hen-parrot, my mother, died, but my old father put me under his wing, and fostered me tenderly. And he continued to live there, eating what remained over from the fruits brought by the other parrots, and giving some to me. Once on a time, there came there to hunt a terrible army of Bhillas, making a noise with cows' horns strongly blown; and the whole of that great wood was like an army fleeing in rout, with terrified antelopes for dust-stained banners, and the bushy tails of the chamarí deer, agitated in fear, resembling chowries, as the host of Pulindas rushed upon it to slay various living creatures. And after the army of Savaras had spent the day in the hunting-grounds, in the sport of death, they returned with the loads of flesh which they had obtained. But a certain aged Savara, who had not obtained any flesh, saw the tree in the evening, and being hungry, approached it, and he quickly climbed up it, and kept dragging parrots and other birds from their nests, killing them, and flinging them on the ground. And when I saw him coming near, like the minister of Yama, I slowly crept in fear underneath the wing of my father. And in the meanwhile the ruffian came near our nest, and dragged out my father, and wringing his neck, flung him down on the ground at the foot of the tree. And I fell with my father, and slipping out from underneath his wing, I slowly crept in my fear into the grass and leaves. Then the rascally Bhilla came down, and roasted some of the parrots and ate them, and others he carried off to his own village. Then my fear was at an end, but I spent a night long from grief, and in the morning, when the flaming eye [18] of the world had mounted high in the heaven, I, being thirsty, went to the bank of a neighbouring lake full of lotuses, tumbling frequently, clinging to the earth with my wings, and there I saw on the sand of the lake a hermit, named Maríchi, who had just bathed, as it were my good works in a former state of existence. He, when he saw me, refreshed me with drops of water flung in my face, and, putting me in the hollow of a leaf, out of pity, carried me to his hermitage. There Pulastya, the head of the hermitage, laughed when he saw me, and being asked by the other hermits, why he laughed, having supernatural insight, he said--"When I beheld this parrot, who is a parrot in consequence of a curse, I laughed out of sorrow, but after I have said my daily prayers, I will tell a story connected with him, which shall cause him to remember his former birth, and the occurrences of his former lives." After saying this, the hermit Pulastya rose up for his daily prayer, and, after he had performed his daily prayer, being again solicited by the hermits, the great sage told this story concerning me. The hermit's story of Somaprabha, Manorathaprabhá, and Makarandiká, wherein it appears who the parrot was in a former birth. There lived in the city of Ratnákara a king named Jyotishprabha, who ruled the earth with supreme authority, as far as the sea, the mine of jewels. There was born to him, by his queen named Harshavatí, a son, whose birth was due to the favour of Siva propitiated by severe asceticism. Because the queen saw in a dream the moon entering her mouth, the king gave his son the name of Somaprabha. And the prince gradually grew up with ambrosial qualities, furnishing a feast to the eyes of the subjects. And his father Jyotishprabha, seeing that he was brave, young, beloved by the subjects, and able to bear the weight of empire, gladly anointed him crown-prince. And he gave him as minister the virtuous Priyankara, the son of his own minister named Prabhákara. On that occasion Mátali descended from the heaven with a celestial horse, and coming up to Somaprabha, said to him: "You are a Vidyádhara, a friend of Indra's, born on earth, and he has sent you an excellent horse named Ásusravas, the son of Uchchhaihsravas, in memory of his former friendship; if you mount it, you will be invincible by your foes." After the charioteer of Indra had said this, he gave Somaprabha that splendid horse, and after receiving due honour, he flew up to heaven again. Then Somaprabha spent that day pleasantly in feasting, and the next day said to his father the king; "My father, the duty of a Kshatriya is not complete without a desire for conquest, so permit me to march out to the conquest of the regions." When his father Jyotishprabha heard that, he was pleased, and consented, and made arrangements for his expedition. Then Somaprabha bowed before his father, and marched out on an auspicious day, with his forces, for the conquest of the regions, mounted on the horse given by Indra. And by the help of his splendid horse, he conquered the kings of every part of the world, and being irresistible in might, he stripped them of their jewels. He bent his bow and the necks of his enemies at the same time; the bow was unbent again, but the heads of his enemies were never again uplifted. Then, as he was returning in triumph, on a path which led him near the Himálayas, he made his army encamp, and went hunting in a wood. And as chance would have it, he saw there a Kinnara, made of a splendid jewel, and he pursued him on his horse given by Indra, with the object of capturing him. The Kinnara entered a cavern in the mountain, and was lost to view, but the prince was carried far away by that horse. And when the sun, after diffusing illumination over the quarters of the world, had reached the western peak, where he meets the evening twilight, the prince, being tired, managed, though with difficulty, to return, and he beheld a great lake, and wishing to pass the night on its shores, he dismounted from his horse. And after he had given grass and water to the horse, and had taken fruits and water himself, and felt rested, he suddenly heard from a certain quarter the sound of a song. Out of curiosity he went in the direction of the sound, and saw at no great distance a heavenly nymph, singing in front of a linga of Siva. He said to himself in astonishment, "Who may this lovely one be?" And she, seeing that he was of noble appearance, said to him bashfully--"Tell me, who are you? How did you reach alone this inaccessible place?" When he heard this, he told his story, and asked her in turn, "Tell me, who are you and what is your business in this wood?" When he asked this question, the heavenly maiden said--"If you have any desire, noble sir, to hear my tale, listen, I will tell it;" after this preface she began to speak with a gushing flood of tears. Episode of Manorathaprabhá and Rasmimat. There is here, on the table-land of the Himálayas, a city named Kánchanábha, and in it there dwells a king of the Vidyádharas named Padmakúta. Know that I am the daughter of that king by his queen Hemaprabhá, and that my name is Manorathaprabhá, and my father loves me more than his life. I, by the power of my science, used to visit, with my female companions, the isles, and the principal mountains, and the woods, and the gardens, and after amusing myself, I made a point of returning every day at my father's meal-time, at the third watch of the day, to my palace. Once on a time I arrived here as I was roaming about, and I saw on the shore of the lake a hermit's son with his companion. And being summoned by the splendour of his beauty, as if by a female messenger, I approached him, and he welcomed me with a wistful look. And then I sat down, and my friend, perceiving the feelings of both, put this question to him through his companion, "Who are you, noble sir, tell me?" And his companion said; "Not far from here, my friend, there lives in a hermitage a hermit named Dídhitimat. He, being subject to a strict vow of chastity, was seen once, when he came to bathe in this lake, by the goddess Srí, who came there at the same time. As she could not obtain him in the flesh, as he was a strict ascetic, and yet longed for him earnestly with her mind, she conceived a mind-born son. And she took that son to Dídhitimat, saying to him, 'I have obtained this son by looking at you; receive it.' And after giving the son to the hermit, Srí disappeared. And the hermit gladly received the son, so easily obtained, and gave him the name of Rasmimat, and gradually reared him, and after investing him with the sacred thread, taught him out of love all the sciences. Know that you see before you in this young hermit that very Rasmimat the son of Srí, come here with me on a pleasure journey." When my friend had heard this from the youth's friend, she, being questioned by him in turn, told my name and descent as I have now told it to you. Then I and the hermit's son became still more in love with one another from hearing one another's descent, and while we were lingering there, a second attendant came and said to me, "Rise up, your father, fair one, is waiting for you in the dining-room of the palace." When I heard that, I said--"I will return quickly," and leaving the youth there, I went into the presence of my father out of fear. And when I came out, having taken a very little food, the first attendant came to me and said of her own accord: "The friend of that hermit's son came here, my friend, and standing at the door of the court said to me in a state of hurried excitement--'Rasmimat has sent me here now, bestowing on me the power of travelling in the air, which he inherits from his father, to see Manorathaprabhá: he is reduced to a terrible state by love and cannot retain his breath a moment longer, without that mistress of his life.'" The moment I heard this, I left my father's palace, and, accompanied by that friend of the hermit's son, who showed me the way, and my attendant, I came here, and when I arrived here, I saw that that hermit's son, separated from me, had resigned, at the rising of the moon, the nectar of his life. So I, grieved by separation from him, was blaming my vital frame, and longing to enter the fire with his body. But at that very moment a man, with a body like a mass of flame, descended from the sky, and flew up to heaven with his body. Then I was desirous to hurl myself into the fire alone, but at that moment a voice issued from the air here; "Manorathaprabhá, do not do this thing, for at the appointed time thou shalt be re-united to this thy hermit's son." On hearing this, I gave up the idea of suicide, and here I remain full of hope, waiting for him, engaged in the worship of Siva. And as for the friend of the hermit's son, he has disappeared somewhere. When the Vidyádhara maiden had said this, Somaprabha said to her, "Then, why do you remain alone, where is that female attendant of yours?" When the Vidyádhara maiden heard this, she answered: "There is a king of the Vidyádharas, named Sinhavikrama, and he has a matchless daughter named Makarandiká; she is a friend of mine, dear as my life, who sympathizes with my grief, and she to-day sent her attendant to learn tidings of me. So I sent back my own attendant to her, with her attendant; it is for that reason that I am at present alone." As she was saying this, she pointed out to Somaprabha her attendant descending from heaven. And she made the attendant, after she had told her news, strew a bed of leaves for Somaprabha, and also give grass to his horse. Then, after passing the night, they rose up in the morning, and saw approaching a Vidyádhara, who had descended from heaven. And that Vidyádhara, whose name was Devajaya, after sitting down, spoke thus to Manorathaprabhá--"Manorathaprabhá, king Sinhavikrama informs you that your friend, his daughter Makarandiká, out of love for you, refuses to marry until you have obtained a bridegroom. So he wishes you to go there and admonish her, that she may be ready to marry." When the Vidyádhara maiden heard this, she prepared to go, out of regard for her friend, and then Somaprabha said to her:--"Virtuous one, I have a curiosity to see the Vidyádhara world: so take me there, and let my horse remain here supplied with grass." When she heard that, she consented, and taking her attendant with her, she flew through the air, with Somaprabha, who was carried in the arms of Devajaya. When she arrived there, Makarandiká welcomed her, and seeing Somaprabha, asked, "Who is this?" And when Manorathaprabhá told his story, the heart of Makarandiká was immediately captivated by him. He, for his part, thought in his mind, deeming he had come upon Good Fortune in bodily form--"Who is the fortunate man destined to be her bridegroom?" Then, in confidential conversation, Manorathaprabhá put the following question to Makarandiká; "Fair one, why do you not wish to be married?" And she, when she heard this, answered:--"How could I desire marriage until you have accepted a bridegroom, for you are dearer to me than life?" When Makarandiká said this in an affectionate manner, Manorathaprabhá said--"I have chosen a bridegroom, fair one; I am waiting here in hopes of union with him." When she said this, Makarandiká said--"I will do as you direct." [19] Then Manorathaprabhá, seeing the real state of her feelings, said to her, "My friend, Somaprabha has come here as your guest, after wandering through the world, so you must entertain him as a guest with becoming hospitality." When Makarandiká heard this, she said:--"I have already bestowed on him, by way of hospitality, every thing but myself, but let him accept me, if he is willing." When she said this, Manorathaprabhá told their love to her father, and arranged a marriage between them. Then Somaprabha recovered his spirits, and delighted said to her:--"I must go now to your hermitage, for possibly my army, commanded by my minister, may come there tracking my course, and if they do not find me, they may return, suspecting something untoward. So I will depart, and after I have learned the tidings of the host, I will return, and certainly marry Makarandiká on an auspicious day." When Manorathaprabhá heard that, she consented, and took him back to her own hermitage, making Devajaya carry him in his arms. In the meanwhile his minister Priyankara came there with the army, tracking his footsteps. And while Somaprabha, in delight, was recounting his adventures to his minister, whom he met there, a messenger came from his father, with a written message that he was to return quickly. Then, by the advice of his minister, he went with his army back to his own city, in order not to disobey his father's command, and as he started, he said to Manorathaprabhá and Devajaya, "I will return as soon as I have seen my father." Then Devajaya went and informed Makarandiká of that, and in consequence she became afflicted with the sorrow of separation. She took no pleasure in the garden, nor in singing, nor in the society of her ladies-in-waiting, nor did she listen to the amusing voices of the parrots; she did not take food; much less did she care about adorning herself. And though her parents earnestly admonished her, she did not recover her spirits. And she soon left her couch of lotus-fibres, and wandered about like an insane woman, causing distress to her parents. And when she would not listen to their words, though they tried to console her, her parents in their anger pronounced this curse on her, "You shall fall for some time among the unfortunate race of the Nishádas, with this very body of yours, without the power of remembering your former birth." When thus cursed by her parents, Makarandiká entered the house of a Nisháda, and became that very moment a Nisháda maiden. And her father Sinhavikrama, the king of the Vidyádharas, repented, and through grief for her died, and so did his wife. Now that king of the Vidyádharas was in a former birth a rishi who knew all the sástras, but now on account of some remnant of former sin he has become this parrot, and his wife also has been born as a wild sow, and this parrot, owing to the power of former austerities, remembers what it learned in a former life. "So I laughed, considering the marvellous results of his works. But he shall be released, as soon as he has told this tale in the court of a king. And Somaprabha shall obtain the parrot's daughter in his Vidyádhara birth, Makarandiká, who has now become a Nisháda female. And Manorathaprabhá also shall obtain the hermit's son Rasmimat, who has now become a king; but Somaprabha, as soon as he had seen his father, returned to her hermitage, and remains there propitiating Siva in order to recover his beloved." When the hermit Pulastya had said thus much, he ceased, and I remembered my birth, and was plunged in grief and joy. Then the hermit Maríchi, who carried me out of pity to the hermitage, took me and reared me. And when my wings grew, I flew about hither and thither with the flightiness natural to a bird, [20] displaying the miracle of my learning. And falling into the hands of a Nisháda, I have in course of time reached your court. And now my evil works have spent their force, having been brought with me into the body of a bird. When the learned and eloquent parrot had finished this tale in the presence of the court, king Sumanas suddenly felt his soul filled with astonishment, and disturbed with love. In the meanwhile Siva, being pleased, said to Somaprabha in a dream--"Rise up, king, and go into the presence of king Sumanas, there thou wilt find thy beloved. For the maiden, named Makarandiká, has become, by the curse of her father, a Nisháda maiden, named Muktálatá, and she has gone with her own father, who has become a parrot, to the court of the king. And when she sees thee, her curse will come to an end, and she will remember her existence as a Vidyádhara maiden, and then a union will take place between you, the joy of which will be increased by your recognizing one another." Having said this to that king, Siva, who is merciful to all his worshippers, said to Manorathaprabhá, who also was living in his hermitage, "The hermit's son Rasmimat, whom thou didst accept as thy bridegroom, has been born again under the name of Sumanas, so go to him and obtain him, fair one; he will at once remember his former birth, when he beholds thee." So Somaprabha and the Vidyádhara maiden, being separately commanded in a dream by Siva, went immediately to the court of that Sumanas. And there Makarandiká, on beholding Somaprabha, immediately remembered her former birth, and being released from her long curse, and recovering her heavenly body, she embraced him. And Somaprabha, having, by the favour of Siva, obtained that daughter of the Vidyádhara prince, as if she were the incarnate fortune of heavenly enjoyment, embraced her, and considered himself to have attained his object. And king Sumanas, having beheld Manorathaprabhá, remembered his former birth, and entered his former body, that fell from heaven, and became Rasmimat the son of the chief of hermits. And once more united with his beloved, for whom he had long yearned, he entered his own hermitage, and king Somaprabha departed with his beloved to his own city. And the parrot too left the body of a bird, and went to the home earned by his asceticism. "Thus you see that the appointed union of human beings certainly takes place in this world, though vast spaces intervene." When Naraváhanadatta heard this wonderful, romantic, and agreeable story from his own minister Gomukha, as he was longing for Saktiyasas, he was much pleased. CHAPTER LX. Then the chief minister Gomukha, having told the story of the two Vidyádhara maidens, said to Naraváhanadatta, "Some ordinary men even, being kindly disposed towards the three worlds, resist with firm resolution the disturbance of love and other passions. Story of Súravarman who spared his guilty wife. For the king Kuladhara once had a servant of distinguished valour, a young man of good family, named Súravarman. And one day, as he was returning from war, he entered his house suddenly, and found his wife alone with his friend. And when he saw it, he restrained his wrath, and in his self-control reflected, "What is the use of slaying this animal who has betrayed his friend? Or of punishing this wicked woman? Why too should I saddle my soul with a load of guilt?" After he had thus reflected, he left them both unharmed and said to them, "I will kill whichever of you two I see again. You must neither of you come in my sight again. When he said this and let them depart, they went away to some distant place, but Súravarman married another wife, and lived there in comfort. "Thus, prince, a man who conquers wrath will not be subject to grief; and a man, who displays prudence, is never harmed. Even in the case of animals prudence produces success, not valour. In proof of it, hear this story about the lion, and the bull, and other animals." Story of the Ox abandoned in the Forest. [21] There was in a certain city a rich merchant's son. Once on a time, as he was going to the city of Mathurá to trade, a draught-bull belonging to him, named Sanjívaka, as it was dragging the yoke vigorously, broke it, and so slipped in the path, which had become muddy by a mountain torrent flowing into it, and fell and bruised its limbs. The merchant's son, seeing that the bull was unable to move on account of its bruises, and not succeeding in his attempts to raise it up from the ground, at last in despair went off and left it there. And, as fate would have it, the bull slowly revived, and rose up, and by eating tender grass recovered its former condition. And it went to the bank of the Yamuná, and by eating green grass and wandering about at will, it became fat and strong. And it roamed about there, with full hump, wantoning, like the bull of Siva, tearing up ant-hills with its horns, and bellowing frequently. Now at that time there lived in a neighbouring wood a lion named Pingalaka, who had subdued the forest by his might; and that king of beasts had two jackals for ministers; the name of the one was Damanaka, and the name of the other was Karataka. That lion, going one day to the bank of the Yamuná to drink water, heard close to him the roar of that bull Sanjívaka. And when the lion heard the roar of that bull, never heard before, resounding through the air, he thought, "What animal makes this sound? Surely some great creature dwells here, so I will depart, for if it saw me, it might slay me, or expel me from the forest." Thereupon the lion quickly returned to the forest without drinking water, and continued in a state of fear, hiding his feelings from his followers. Then the wise jackal [22] Damanaka, the minister of that king, said secretly to Karataka the second minister, "Our master went to drink water; so how comes it that he has so quickly returned without drinking? We must ask him the reason." Then Karataka said--"What business is this of ours? Have you not heard the story of the ape that drew out the wedge?" Story of the monkey that pulled out the wedge. [23] In a certain town, a merchant had begun to build a temple to a divinity, and had accumulated much timber. The workmen there, after sawing through the upper half of a plank, placed a wedge in it, and leaving it thus suspended, went home. In the meanwhile a monkey came there and bounded up out of mischief, and sat on the plank, the parts of which were separated by the wedge. And he sat in the gap between the two parts, as if in the mouth of death, and in purposeless mischief pulled out the wedge. Then he fell with the plank, the wedge of which had been pulled out, and was killed, having his limbs crushed by the flying together of the separated parts. "Thus a person is ruined by meddling with what is not his own business. So what is the use of our penetrating the mind of the king of beasts?" When the grave Damanaka heard Karataka say this, he answered--"Certainly wise ministers must penetrate and observe the peculiarities of their master's character. For who would confine his attention to filling his belly?" When Damanaka said this, the good Karataka said--"Prying for one's own gratification is not the duty of a servant." Damanaka, being thus addressed, replied--"Do not speak thus, every one desires a recompense suited to his character; the dog is satisfied with a bone only, the lion attacks an elephant." When Karataka heard this, he said, "And supposing under these circumstances the master is angry, instead of being pleased, where is your special advantage? Lords, like mountains, are exceedingly rough, firm, uneven, difficult of access, and surrounded with noxious creatures." Then Damanaka said, "This is true, but he who is wise, gradually gets influence over his master by penetrating his character." Then Karataka said--"Well, do so," and Damanaka went into the presence of his master the lion. The lion received him kindly: so he bowed, and sat down, and immediately said to him; "King, I am a hereditary useful servant of yours. One useful is to be sought after, though a stranger, but a mischievous one is to be abandoned; a cat, being useful, is bought with money, brought from a distance, and cherished; but a mouse, being harmful, is carefully destroyed, though it has been nourished up in one's house. And a king, who desires prosperity, must listen to servants who wish him well, and they must give their lord at the right time useful counsel, even without being asked. So, king, if you feel confidence in me, if you are not angry, and if you do not wish to conceal your feelings from me, and if you are not disturbed in mind by my boldness, I would ask you a certain question." When Damanaka said this, the lion Pingalaka answered; "You are trustworthy, you are attached to me, so speak without fear." When Pingalaka said this, Damanaka said: "King, being thirsty, you went to drink water; so why did you return without drinking, like one despondent?" When the lion heard this speech of his, he reflected--"I have been discovered by him, so why should I try to hide the truth from this devoted servant?" Having thus reflected, he said to him, "Listen, I must not hide anything from you. When I went to drink water, I heard here a noise which I never heard before, and I think, it is the terrible roar of some animal superior to myself in strength. For, as a general rule, the might of creatures is proportionate to the sound they utter, and it is well known that the infinitely various animal creation has been made by God in regular gradations. And now that he has entered here, I cannot call my body nor my wood my own; so I must depart hence to some other forest." When the lion said this, Damanaka answered him; "Being valiant, O king, why do you wish to leave the wood for so slight a reason? Water breaks a bridge, secret whispering friendship, counsel is ruined by garrulity, cowards only are routed by a mere noise. There are many noises, such as those of machines, which are terrible till one knows the real cause. So your Highness must not fear this. Hear by way of illustration the story of the jackal and the drum. Story of the Jackal and the Drum. [24] Long ago there lived a jackal in a certain forest district. He was roaming about in search of food, and came upon a plot of ground where a battle had taken place, and hearing from a certain quarter a booming sound, he looked in that direction. There he saw a drum lying on the ground, a thing with which he was not familiar. He thought, "What kind of animal is this, that makes such a sound?" Then he saw that it was motionless, and coming up and looking at it, he came to the conclusion that it was not an animal. And he perceived that the noise was produced by the parchment being struck by the shaft of an arrow, which was moved by the wind. So the jackal laid aside his fear, and he tore open the drum, and went inside, to see if he could get anything to eat in it, but lo! it was nothing but wood and parchment. So, king, why do creatures like you fear a mere sound? If you approve, I will go there to investigate the matter." When Damanaka said this, the lion answered, "Go there, by all means, if you dare;" so Damanaka went to the bank of the Yamuná. While he was roaming slowly about there, guided by the sound, he discovered that bull eating grass. So he went near him, and made acquaintance with him, and came back, and told the lion the real state of the ease. The lion Pingalaka was delighted and said, "If you have really seen that great ox, and made friends with him, bring him here by some artifice, that I may see what he is like." So he sent Damanaka back to that bull. Damanaka went to the bull and said--"Come! our master, the king of beasts is pleased to summon you," but the bull would not consent to come, for he was afraid. Then the jackal again returned to the forest, and induced his master the lion to grant the bull assurance of protection. And he went and encouraged Sanjívaka with this promise of protection, and so brought him into the presence of the lion. And when the lion saw him come and bow before him, he treated him with politeness, and said--"Remain here now about my person, and entertain no fear." And the bull consented, and gradually gained such an influence over the lion, that he turned his back on his other dependents, and was entirely governed by the bull. Then Damanaka, being annoyed, said to Karataka in secret: "See! our master has been taken possession of by Sanjívaka, and does not trouble his head about us. He eats his flesh alone, and never gives us a share. And the fool is now taught his duty by this bull. [25] It was I that caused all this mischief by bringing this bull. So I will now take steps to have him killed, and to reclaim our master from his unbecoming infatuation." When Karataka heard this from Damanaka, he said--"Friend, even you will not be able to do this now." Then Damanaka said--"I shall certainly be able to accomplish it by prudence. What can he not do whose prudence does not fail in calamity? As a proof, hear the story of the makara [26] that killed the crane." Story of the crane and the Makara. [27] Of old time there dwelt a crane in a certain tank rich in fish; and the fish in terror used to flee out of his sight. Then the crane, not being able to catch the fish, told them a lying tale: "There has come here a man with a net who kills fish. He will soon catch you with a net and kill you. So act on my advice, if you repose any confidence in me. There is in a lonely place a translucent lake, it is unknown to the fishermen of these parts; I will take you there one by one, and drop you into it, that you may live there." When those foolish fish heard that, they said in their fear--"Do so, we all repose confidence in you." Then the treacherous crane took the fish away one by one, and, putting them down on a rock, devoured in this way many of them. Then a certain makara dwelling in that lake, seeing him carrying off fish, said:--"Whither are you taking the fish?" Then that crane said to him exactly what he had said to the fish. The makara, [28] being terrified, said--"Take me there too." The crane's intellect was blinded with the smell of his flesh, so he took him up, and soaring aloft carried him towards the slab of rock. But when the makara got near the rock, he saw the fragments of the bones of the fish that the crane had eaten, and he perceived that the crane was in the habit of devouring those who reposed confidence in him. So no sooner was the sagacious makara put down on the rock, than with complete presence of mind he cut off the head of the crane. And he returned and told the occurrence, exactly as it happened, to the other fish, and they were delighted, and hailed him as their deliverer from death. "Prudence indeed is power, so what has a man, devoid of prudence, to do with power? Hear this other story of the lion and the hare." Story of the lion and the hare. [29] There was in a certain forest a lion, who was invincible, and sole champion of it, and whatever creature he saw in it, he killed. Then all the animals, deer and all, met and deliberated together, and they made the following petition to that king of beasts--"Why by killing us all at once do you ruin your own interests? We will send you one animal every day for your dinner." When the lion heard this, he consented to their proposal, and as he was in the habit of eating one animal every day, it happened that it was one day the lot of a hare to present himself to be eaten. The hare was sent off by the united animals, but on the way the wise creature reflected--"He is truly brave who does not become bewildered even in the time of calamity, so, now that Death stares me in the face, I will devise an expedient." Thus reflecting, the hare presented himself before the lion late. And when he arrived after his time, the lion said to him: "Hola! how is this that you have neglected to arrive at my dinner hour, or what worse penalty than death can I inflict on you, scoundrel?" When the lion said this, the hare bowed before him, and said: "It is not my fault, your Highness, I have not been my own master to-day, for another lion detained me on the road, and only let me go after a long interval." When the lion heard that, he lashed his tail, and his eyes became red with anger, and he said: "Who is that second lion? Shew him me." The hare said: "Let your Majesty come and see him." The lion consented and followed him. Thereupon the hare took him away to a distant well. "Here he lives, behold him," said the hare, and when thus addressed by the hare, the lion looked into the well, roaring all the while with anger. And seeing his own reflexion in the clear water, and hearing the echo of his own roar, thinking that there was a rival lion there roaring louder than himself, [30] he threw himself in a rage into the well, in order to kill him, and there the fool was drowned. And the hare, having himself escaped death by his wisdom, and having delivered all the animals from it, went and delighted them by telling his adventure. "So you see that wisdom is the supreme power, not strength, since by virtue of it even a hare killed a lion. So I will effect my object by wisdom." When Damanaka said this, Karataka remained silent. Then Damanaka went and remained in the presence of the king Pingalaka, in a state of assumed depression. And when Pingalaka asked him the reason, he said to him in a confidential aside: "I will tell you, king, for if one knows anything, one ought not to conceal it. And one should speak too without being commanded to do so, if one desires the welfare of one's master. So hear this representation of mine, and do not suspect me. This bull Sanjívaka intends to kill you and gain possession of the kingdom, for in his position of minister he has come to the conclusion that you are timid; and longing to slay you, he is brandishing his two horns, his natural weapons, and he talks over the animals in the forest, encouraging them with speeches of this kind--'We will kill by some artifice this flesh-eating king of beasts, and then you can live in security under me, who am an eater of herbs only.' So think about this bull; as long as he is alive, there is no security for you." When Damanaka said this, Pingalaka answered, "What can that miserable herb-eating bull do against me? But how can I kill a creature that has sought my protection, and to whom I have promised immunity from injury." When Damanaka heard this, he said--"Do not speak so. When a king makes another equal to himself, Fortune does not proceed as favourably as before. [31] The fickle goddess, if she places her feet at the same time upon two exalted persons, cannot keep her footing long, she will certainly abandon one of the two. And a king, who hates a good servant and honours a bad servant, is to be avoided by the wise, as a wicked patient by physicians. Where there is a speaker and a hearer of that advice, which in the beginning is disagreeable, but in the end is useful, there Fortune sets her foot. He, who does not hear the advice of the good, but listens to the advice of the bad, in a short time falls into calamity, and is afflicted. So what is the meaning of this love of yours for the bull, O king? And what does it matter that you gave him protection, or that he came as a suppliant, if he plots against your life? Moreover, if this bull remains always about your person, you will have worms produced in you by his excretions. And they will enter your body, which is covered with the scars of wounds from the tusks of infuriated elephants. Why should he not have chosen to kill you by craft? If a wicked person is wise enough not to do an injury [32] himself, it will happen by association with him, hear a story in proof of it." Story of the Louse and the Flea. [33] In the bed of a certain king there long lived undiscovered a louse, that had crept in from somewhere or other, by name Mandavisarpiní. And suddenly a flea, named Tittibha, entered that bed, wafted there by the wind from some place or other. And when Mandavisarpiní saw him, she said, "Why have you invaded my home? go elsewhere." Tittibha answered, "I wish to drink the blood of a king, a luxury which I have never tasted before, so permit me to dwell here." Then, to please him, the louse said to him, "If this is the case, remain. But you must not bite the king, my friend, at unseasonable times, you must bite him gently when he is asleep." When Tittibha heard that, he consented and remained. But at night he bit the king hard when he was in bed, and then the king rose up, exclaiming, "I am bitten," then the wicked flea fled quickly, and the king's servants made a search in the bed, and finding the louse there, killed it. "So Mandavisarpiní perished by associating with Tittibha. Accordingly your association with Sanjívaka will not be for your advantage; if you do not believe in what I say, you will soon yourself see him approach, brandishing his head, confiding in his horns, which are sharp as lances." By these words the feelings of Pingalaka were changed towards the bull, and so Damanaka induced him to form in his heart the determination that the bull must be killed. And Damanaka, having ascertained the state of the lion's feelings, immediately went off of his own accord to Sanjívaka, and sat in his presence with a despondent air. The bull said to him, "Friend, why are you in this state? Are you in good health?" The jackal answered, "What can be healthy with a servant? Who is permanently dear to a king? What petitioner is not despised? Who is not subject to time?" When the jackal said this, the bull again said to him--"Why do you seem so despondent to-day, my friend, tell me?" Then Damanaka said--"Listen, I speak out of friendship. The lion Pingalaka has to-day become hostile to you. So unstable is his affection that, without regard for his friendship, he wishes to kill you and eat you, and I see that his evilly-disposed courtiers have instigated him to do it." The simple-minded bull, supposing, on account of the confidence he had previously reposed in the jackal, that this speech was true, and feeling despondent, said to him: "Alas a mean master, with mean retainers, though he be won over by faithful service, becomes estranged; in proof of it hear this story." Story of the Lion, the Panther, the Crow and the Jackal. [34] There lived once in a certain forest a lion, named Madotkata, and he had three followers, a panther, a crow, and a jackal. That lion once saw a camel, that had escaped from a caravan, entering his wood, a creature he was not familiar with before, of ridiculous appearance. That king of beasts said in astonishment, "What is this creature?" And the crow, who knew when it behoved him to speak, [35] said, "It is a camel." Then the lion, out of curiosity, had the camel summoned, and giving him a promise of protection, he made him his courtier, and placed him about his person. One day the lion was wounded in a fight with an elephant, and being out of health, made many fasts, though surrounded by those attendants who were in good health. Then the lion, being exhausted, roamed about in search of food, but not finding any, secretly asked all his courtiers, except the camel, what was to be done. They said to him:--"Your Highness, we must give advice which is seasonable in our present calamity. What friendship can you have with a camel, and why do you not eat him? He is a grass-eating animal, and therefore meant to be devoured by us flesh-eaters. And why should not one be sacrificed to supply food to many? If your Highness should object, on the ground that you cannot slay one to whom you have granted protection, we will contrive a plot by which we shall induce the camel himself to offer you his own body." When they had said this, the crow, by the permission of the lion, after arranging the plot, went and said to that camel: "This master of ours is overpowered with hunger, and says nothing to us, so we intend to make him well-disposed to us by offering him our bodies, and you had better do the same, in order that he may be well-disposed towards you." When the crow said this to the camel, the simple-minded camel agreed to it, and came to the lion with the crow. Then the crow said, "King, eat me, for I am my own master." Then the lion said, "What is the use of eating such a small creature as you?" Thereupon the jackal said--"Eat me," and the lion rejected him in the same way. Then the panther said "Eat me," and yet the lion would not eat him; and at last the camel said "Eat me." So the lion, and the crow, and his fellows entrapped him by these deceitful offers, and taking him at his word, killed him, divided him into portions, and ate him. "In the same way some treacherous person has instigated Pingalaka against me without cause. So now destiny must decide. For it is better to be the servant of a vulture-king with swans for courtiers, than to serve a swan as king, if his courtiers be vultures, much less a king of a worse character, with such courtiers. [36] "When the dishonest Damanaka heard Sanjívaka say that, he replied, "Everything is accomplished by resolution, listen--I will tell you a tale to prove this." Story of the pair of Tittibhas. There lived a certain cock tittibha on the shore of the sea with his hen. And the hen, being about to lay eggs, said to the cock: "Come, let us go away from this place, for if I lay eggs here, the sea may carry them off with its waves." When the cock-bird heard this speech of the hen's, he said to her--"The sea cannot contend with me." On hearing that, the hen said--"Do not talk so; what comparison is there between you and the sea? People must follow good advice, otherwise they will be ruined." Story of the Tortoise and the two Swans. [37] For there was in a certain lake a tortoise, named Kambugríva, and he had two swans for friends, Vikata and Sankata. Once on a time the lake was dried up by drought, and they wanted to go to another lake; so the tortoise said to them, "Take me also to the lake you are desirous of going to." When the two swans heard this, they said to their friend the tortoise--"The lake to which we wish to go is a tremendous distance off; but, if you wish to go there too, you must do what we tell you. You must take in your teeth a stick held by us, and while travelling through the air, you must remain perfectly silent, otherwise you will fall and be killed." The tortoise agreed, and took the stick in his teeth, and the two swans flew up into the air, holding the two ends of it. And gradually the two swans, carrying the tortoise, drew near that lake, and were seen by some men living in a town below; and the thoughtless tortoise heard them making a chattering, while they were discussing with one another, what the strange thing could be that the swans were carrying. So the tortoise asked the swans what the chattering below was about, and in so doing let go the stick from its mouth, and falling down to the earth, was there killed by the men. "Thus you see that a person who lets go common sense will be ruined, like the tortoise that let go the stick." When the hen-bird said this, the cock-bird answered her, "This is true, my dear, but hear this story also." Story of the three Fish. Of old time there were three fish in a lake near a river, one was called Anágatavidhátri, a second Pratyutpannamati and the third Yadbhavishya, [38] and they were companions. One day they heard some fishermen, who passed that way, saying to one another, "Surely there must be fish in this lake. Thereupon the prudent Anágatavidhátri, fearing to be killed by the fishermen, entered the current of the river and went to another place. But Pratyutpannamati remained where he was, without fear, saying to himself, "I will take the expedient course if any danger should arise." And Yadbhavishya remained there, saying to himself, "What must be, must be." Then those fishermen came and threw a net into that lake. But the cunning Pratyutpannamati, the moment he felt himself hauled up in the net, made himself rigid, and remained as if he were dead. The fishermen, who were killing the fish, did not kill him, thinking that he had died of himself, so he jumped into the current of the river, and went off somewhere else, as fast as he could. But Yadbhavishya, like a foolish fish, bounded and wriggled in the net, so the fishermen laid hold of him and killed him. "So I too will adopt an expedient when the time arrives; I will not go away through fear of the sea." Having said this to his wife, the tittibha remained where he was, in his nest; and there the sea heard his boastful speech. Now, after some days, the hen-bird laid eggs, and the sea carried off the eggs with his waves, out of curiosity, saying to himself; "I should like to know what this tittibha will do to me." And the hen-bird, weeping, said to her husband; "The very calamity which I prophesied to you, has come upon us." Then that resolute tittibha said to his wife, "See, what I will do to that wicked sea!" So he called together all the birds, and mentioned the insult he had received, and went with them and called on the lord Garuda for protection. And the birds said to him: "Though thou art our protector, we have been insulted by the sea as if we were unprotected, in that it has carried away some of our eggs." Then Garuda was angry, and appealed to Vishnu, who dried up the sea with the weapon of fire, and made it restore the eggs. [39] "So you must be wise in calamity and not let go resolution. But now a battle with Pingalaka is at hand for you. When he shall erect his tail, and arise with his four feet together, then you may know that he is about to strike you. And you must have your head ready tossed up, and must gore him in the stomach, and lay your enemy low, with all his entrails torn out." After Damanaka had said this to the bull Sanjívaka, he went to Karataka, and told him that he had succeeded in setting the two at variance. Then Sanjívaka slowly approached Pingalaka, being desirous of finding out the mind of that king of beasts by his face and gestures. And he saw that the lion was prepared to fight, being evenly balanced on all four legs, and having erected his tail, and the lion saw that the bull had tossed up his head in fear. Then the lion sprang on the bull and struck him with his claws, the bull replied with his horns, and so their fight went on. And the virtuous Karataka, seeing it, said to Damanaka--"Why have you brought calamity on our master to gain your own ends? Wealth obtained by oppression of subjects, friendship obtained by deceit, and a lady-love gained by violence, will not remain long. But enough; whoever says much to a person who despises good advice, incurs thereby misfortune, as Súchímukha from the ape." Story of the Monkeys, the Firefly, and the Bird. [40] Once on a time, there were some monkeys wandering in a troop in a wood. In the cold weather they saw a firefly and thought it was real fire. So they placed grass and leaves upon it, and tried to warm themselves at it, and one of them fanned the firefly with his breath. A bird named Súchímukha, when he saw it, said to him, "This is not fire, this is a firefly, do not fatigue yourself." Though the monkey heard, he did not desist, and thereupon the bird came down from the tree, and earnestly dissuaded him, at which the ape was annoyed, and throwing a stone at Súchímukha, crushed him. "So one ought not to admonish him, who will not act on good advice. Why then should I speak? you well know that you brought about this quarrel with a mischievous object, and that which is done with evil intentions cannot turn out well." Story of Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi. [41] For instance, there were long ago in a certain village two brothers, the sons of a merchant, Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi by name. They left their father's house and went to another country to get wealth, and with great difficulty acquired two thousand gold dínárs. And with them they returned to their own city. And they buried those dínárs at the foot of a tree, with the exception of one hundred, which they divided between them in equal parts, and so they lived in their father's house. But one day Dushtabuddhi went by himself and dug up of his own accord those dínárs, which were buried at the foot of the tree, for he was vicious and extravagant. [42] And after one month only had passed, he said to Dharmabuddhi: "Come, my elder brother, let us divide those dínárs; I have expenses." When Dharmabuddhi heard that, he consented, and went and dug with him, where he had deposited the dínárs. And when they did not find any dínárs in the place where they had buried them, the treacherous Dushtabuddhi said to Dharmabuddhi: "You have taken away the dínárs, so give me my half." But Dharmabuddhi answered: "I have not taken them, you must have taken them." So a quarrel arose, and Dushtabuddhi hit Dharmabuddhi on the head with a stone, and dragged him into the king's court. There they both stated their case, and as the king's officers could not decide it, they were proceeding to detain them both for the trial by ordeal. Then Dushtabuddhi said to the king's officers; "The tree, at the foot of which these dínárs were placed, will depose, as a witness, that they were taken away by this Dharmabuddhi. And they were exceedingly astonished, but said, "Well, we will ask it to-morrow." Then they let both Dharmabuddhi and Dushtabuddhi go, after they had given bail, and they went separately to their house. But Dushtabuddhi told the whole matter to his father, and secretly giving him money, said; "Hide in the trunk of the tree and be my witness." His father consented, so he took him and placed him at night in the capacious trunk of the tree, and returned home. And in the morning those two brothers went with the king's officers, and asked the tree, who took away those dínárs. And their father, who was hidden in the trunk of the tree, replied in a loud clear voice: "Dharmabuddhi took away the dínárs." When the king's officers heard this surprising utterance, they said; "Surely Dushtabuddhi must have hidden some one in the trunk." So they introduced smoke into the trunk of the tree, which fumigated the father of Dushtabuddhi so, that he fell out of the trunk on to the ground, and died. When the king's officers saw this, they understood the whole matter, and they compelled Dushtabuddhi to give up the dínárs to Dharmabuddhi. And so they cut off the hands and cut out the tongue of Dushtabuddhi, and banished him, and they honoured Dharmabuddhi as a man who deserved his name. [43] "So you see that a deed done with an unrighteous mind is sure to bring calamity, therefore one should do it with a righteous mind, as the crane did to the snake." Story of the Crane, the Snake and the Mungoose. [44] Once on a time a snake came and ate the nestlings of a certain crane, as fast as they were born; that grieved the crane. So, by the advice of a crab, he went and strewed pieces of fish from the dwelling of a mungoose as far as the hole of the snake, and the mungoose came out, and following up the pieces of fish, eating as it went on, was led to the hole of the snake, which it saw and entered, and killed him and his offspring. "So by a device one can succeed; now hear another story." Story of the mice that ate an iron balance. [45] Once on a time there was a merchant's son, who had spent all his father's wealth, and had only an iron balance left to him. Now the balance was made of a thousand palas of iron; and depositing it in the care of a certain merchant, he went to another land. And when, on his return, he came to that merchant to demand back his balance, the merchant said to him: "It has been eaten by mice." He repeated, "It is quite true, the iron, of which it was composed, was particularly sweet, and so the mice ate it." This he said with an outward show of sorrow, laughing in his heart. Then the merchant's son asked him to give him some food, and he, being in a good temper, consented to give him some. Then the merchant's son went to bathe, taking with him the son of that merchant, who was a mere child, and whom he persuaded to come with him by giving him a dish of ámalakas. And after he had bathed, the wise merchant's son deposited the boy in the house of a friend, and returned alone to the house of that merchant. And the merchant said to him, "Where is that son of mine?" He replied, "A kite swooped down from the air and carried him off." The merchant in a rage said, "You have concealed my son," and so he took him into the king's judgment-hall; and there the merchant's son made the same statement. The officers of the court said, "This is impossible, how could a kite carry off a boy?" But the merchant's son answered; "In a country where a large balance of iron was eaten by mice, a kite might carry off an elephant, much more a boy." [46] When the officers heard that, they asked about it, out of curiosity, and made the merchant restore the balance to the owner, and he, for his part, restored the merchant's child. "Thus, you see, persons of eminent ability attain their ends by an artifice. But you, by your reckless impetuosity, have brought our master into danger." When Damanaka heard this from Karataka, he laughed and said--"Do not talk like this! What chance is there of a lion's not being victorious in a fight with a bull? There is a considerable difference between a lion, whose body is adorned with numerous scars of wounds from the tusks of infuriated elephants, and a tame ox, whose body has been pricked by the goad." While the jackals were carrying on this discussion, the lion killed the bull Sanjívaka. When he was slain, Damanaka recovered his position of minister without a rival, and remained for a long time about the person of the king of beasts in perfect happiness. Naraváhanadatta much enjoyed hearing from his prime minister Gomukha this wonderful story, which was full of statecraft, and characterized by consummate ability. NOTE TO CHAPTER 60. THE FABLES OF PILPAY. Wilson in his collected works, (Vol. IV, p. 139) remarks that we have in the Kathá Sarit Ságara an earlier representative of the original collection of Indian fables, than even the Panchatantra, as it agrees better with the Kalilah and Dimnah than the Panchatantra does. The earliest Indian form of the Panchatantra appears to have been translated into Pehlevi in the time of the king of Persia, Khushru Naushírváns (between 531 and 572 A. D.); upon this the Arabic translation was based. It was edited by Silvestre de Sacy under the title, "Calila et Dimna ou Fables de Bidpai," and has been translated into German by Wolff, and into English by Knatchbull. There are many recensions of the Arabic translation as of the Panchatantra. (Benfey is of opinion that originally the latter work consisted of more than five sections.) The oldest translation of the Arabic version is the Greek one by Symeon Seth, which was made about 1080, A. D. (Benfey, Einleitung, p. 8, with note). The Latin translation of Possinus was made from this. Perhaps the most important translation of all is the Hebrew translation of Rabbi Joel. It must have been made about 1250. It has never been edited, with the exception of a small fragment, and is practically represented by the Latin translation of John of Capua, made between 1263 and 1278. Benfey considers that the first German translation was made from a MS. of this. The oldest German translation has no date. The second appeared at Ulm in 1483. Another version, probably not based upon any of these, is a poetical paraphrase, the Alter Aesopus of Baldo, edited by Edéléstand du Méril in his Poésies inédites du Moyen Age. There is a Spanish translation from the Arabic, perhaps through an unknown Latin version, which appeared about 1251. A portion has been published by Rodriguez De Castro. Possibly Raimond's Latin translation was based partly on this, and partly on the Latin translation of the Hebrew by John of Capua. The Arabic version was translated into Persian by Nasr Allah in the 12th century. Upon it is based the Anvár-i-Suhaili of Husain Vaiz, which was written three centuries later. It has been translated into English by Eastwick. (Hertford 1854). (The above note is summarized from Benfey's Einleitung). See also Rhys Davids' Buddhist Birth Stories, Introduction, pp. xciii and xciv. He says that the Arabic version was made from the Syriac. CHAPTER LXI. Then the minister Gomukha again said to Naraváhanadatta, in order to solace him while pining for Saktiyasas; "Prince, you have heard a tale of a wise person, now hear a tale about a fool." Story of the foolish merchant who made aloes-wood into charcoal. [47] A certain rich merchant had a blockhead of a son. He, once on a time, went to the island of Katáha to trade, and among his wares there was a great quantity of fragrant aloes-wood. And after he had sold the rest of his wares, he could not find any one to take the aloes-wood off his hands, for the people who live there are not acquainted with that article of commerce. Then, seeing people buying charcoal from the woodmen, the fool burnt his stock of aloes-wood and reduced it to charcoal. Then he sold it for the price which charcoal usually fetched, and returning home, boasted of his cleverness, and became a laughing-stock to everybody. "I have told you of the man who burnt aloes-wood, now hear the tale of the cultivator of sesame." Story of the man who sowed roasted seed. [48] There was a certain villager who was a cultivator, and very nearly an idiot. He one day roasted some sesame-seeds, and, finding them nice to eat, he sowed a large number of roasted seeds, hoping that similar ones would come up. When they did not come up, on account of their having been roasted, he found that he had lost his substance, and people laughed at him. "I have spoken of the sesame-cultivator, now hear about the man who threw fire into water." Story of the fool who mixed fire and water. [49] There was a silly man, who, one night, having to perform a sacrifice next day, thus reflected:--"I require water and fire, for bathing, burning incense, and other purposes; so I will put them together, that I may quickly obtain them when I want them." Thus reflecting, he threw the fire into the pitcher of water, and then went to bed. And in the morning, when he came to look, the fire was extinct, and the water was spoiled. And when he saw the water blackened with charcoal, his face was blackened also, and the faces of the amused people were wreathed in smiles. "You have heard the story of the man who was famous on account of the pitcher of fire, now hear the story of the nose-engrafter." Story of the man who tried to improve his wife's nose. There lived in some place or other a foolish man of bewildered intellect. He, seeing that his wife was flat-nosed, and that his spiritual instructor was high-nosed, [50] cut off the nose of the latter when he was asleep: and then he went and cut off his wife's nose, and stuck the nose of his spiritual instructor on her face, but it would not grow there. Thus he deprived both his wife and his spiritual guide of their noses. "Now hear the story of the herdsman who lived in a forest." Story of the foolish herdsman. There lived in a forest a rich but silly herdsman. Many rogues conspired together and made friends with him. They said to him, "We have asked the daughter of a rich inhabitant of the town in marriage for you, and her father has promised to give her. When he heard that, he was pleased and gave them wealth, and after a few days they came again and said, "Your marriage has taken place." He was very much pleased at that, and gave them abundance of wealth. And after some more days they said to him: "A son has been born to you." He was in ecstasies at that, and he gave them all his wealth, like the fool that he was, and the next day he began to lament, saying, "I am longing to see my son." And when the herdsman began to cry, he incurred the ridicule of the people on account of his having been cheated by the rogues, as if he had acquired the stupidity of cattle from having so much to do with them. "You have heard of the herdsman; now hear the story of the ornament-hanger." Story of the fool and the ornaments. [51] A certain villager, while digging up the ground, found a splendid set of ornaments, which thieves had taken from the palace and placed there. He immediately took them and decorated his wife with them; he put the girdle on her head, and the necklace round her waist, and the anklets on her wrists, and the bracelets on her ears. When the people heard of it, they laughed, and bruited it about. So the king came to hear of it, and took away from the villager the ornaments, which belonged to himself, but let the villager go unharmed, because he was as stupid as an animal. Story of the Fool and the Cotton. [52] I have told you, prince, of the ornament-finder, now hear the story of the cotton-grower. A certain blockhead went to the market to sell cotton, but no one would buy it from him on the ground that it was not properly cleaned. In the meanwhile he saw in the bazar a goldsmith selling gold, which he had purified by heating it, and he saw it taken by a customer. When the stupid creature saw that, he threw the cotton into the fire in order to purify it, and when it was burnt up, the people laughed at him. "You have heard, prince, this story of the cotton-grower, now hear the story of the men who cut down the palm-trees." Story of the Foolish Villagers who cut down the palm-trees. Some foolish villagers were summoned by the king's officers, and set to work to gather some dates in accordance with an order from the king's court. [53] They, perceiving that it was very easy to gather the dates of one date-palm that had tumbled down of itself, cut down all the date-palms in their village. And after they had laid them low, they gathered from them their whole crop of dates, and then they raised them up and planted them again, but they did not succeed in making them grow. And then, when they brought the dates, they were not rewarded, but on the contrary punished with a fine by the king, who had heard of the cutting down of the trees. [54] "I have told you this joke about the dates, now I am going to tell you about the looking for treasure." Story of the Treasure-finder who was blinded. A certain king took to himself a treasure-finder. And the wicked minister of that king had both the eyes of the man, who was able to find the places where treasure was deposited, torn out, in order that he might not run away anywhere. The consequence was that, being blind, he was incapacitated from seeing the indications of treasure in the earth, whether he ran away or remained; and people, seeing that, [55] laughed at the silly minister. "You have heard of the searching for treasure, now hear about the eating of salt." Story of the Fool and the Salt. There was once on a time an impenetrably stupid man living in a village. [56] He was once taken home by a friend who lived in the city, and was regaled on curry and other food, made savoury by salt. And that blockhead asked, "What makes this food so savoury?" His friend told him that its relish was principally due to salt. He came to the conclusion that salt was the proper thing to eat, so he took a handful of crushed salt and threw it into his mouth, and ate it; the powdered salt whitened the lips and beard of the foolish fellow, and so the people laughed at him till his face became white also. "You have heard, prince, the story of the devourer of salt, now hear the story of the man who had a milch-cow." Story of the Fool and his Milch-cow. [57] There was once on a time a certain foolish villager, and he had one cow. And that cow gave him every day a hundred palas of milk. And once on a time it happened that a feast was approaching. So he thought; "I will take all the cow's milk at once on the feast-day, and so get very much." Accordingly the fool did not milk his cow for a whole month. And when the feast came, and he did begin to milk it, he found its milk had failed, but to the people this was an unfailing source of amusement. "You have heard of the fool who had a milch-cow, now hear the story of these other two fools." Story of the Foolish Bald Man and the Fool who pelted him. There was a certain bald man with a head like a copper pot. Once on a time a young man, who, being hungry, had gathered wood-apples, as he was coming along his path, saw him sitting at the foot of a tree. In fun he hit him on the head with a wood-apple; the bald man took it patiently and said nothing to him. Then he hit his head with all the rest of the wood-apples that he had, throwing them at him one after another, and the bald man remained silent, even though the blood flowed. So the foolish young fellow had to go home hungry without his wood-apples, which he had broken to pieces in his useless and childish pastime of pelting the bald man; and the foolish bald man went home with his head streaming with blood, saying to himself; "Why should I not submit to being pelted with such delicious wood-apples?" And everybody there laughed, when they saw him with his head covered with blood, looking like the diadem with which he had been crowned king of fools. "Thus you see, prince, that foolish persons become the objects of ridicule in the world, and do not succeed in their objects; but wise persons are honoured." When Naraváhanadatta had heard from Gomukha these elegant and amusing anecdotes, he rose up and performed his day's duties. And when night came on, the prince was anxious to hear some more stories, and at his request, Gomukha told this story about wise creatures. Story of the Crow and the King of the Pigeons, the Tortoise and the Deer. [58] There was in a certain forest region a great Salmali tree; and in it there lived a crow, named Laghupátin, who had made his dwelling there. One day, as he was in his nest, he saw below the tree a terrible-looking man arrive with a stick, net in hand. And while the crow looked down from the tree, he saw that the man spread out the net on the ground, and strewed there some rice, and then hid himself. In the meanwhile the king of the pigeons, named Chitragríva, as he was roaming through the air, attended by hundreds of pigeons, came there, and seeing the grains of rice scattered on the ground, he alighted on the net out of desire for food, and got caught in the meshes with all his attendants. When Chitragríva saw that, he said to all his followers; "Take the net in your beaks, and fly up into the air as fast as you can." All the terrified pigeons said,--"So be it"--and taking the net, they flew up swiftly, and began to travel through the air. The fowler too rose up, and with eye fixed upwards, returned despondent. Then Chitragríva, being relieved from his fear, said to his followers; "Let us quickly go to my friend the mouse Hiranya, he will gnaw these meshes asunder and set us at liberty." With these words he went on with those pigeons, who were dragging the net along with them, and descended from the air at the entrance of a mouse's hole. And there the king of the pigeons called the mouse, saying,--"Hiranya, come out, I, Chitragríva, have arrived." And when the mouse heard through the entrance, and saw that his friend had come, he came out from that hole with a hundred openings. The mouse went up to him, and when he had heard what had taken place, proceeded with the utmost eagerness to gnaw asunder the meshes, that kept the pigeon-king and his retinue prisoners. And when he had gnawed the meshes asunder, Chitragríva took leave of him with kind words, and flew up into the air with his companions. And when the crow, who had followed the pigeons, saw that, he came to the entrance of the hole, and said to the mouse who had re-entered it; "I am Laghupátin, a crow; seeing that you tender your friends dearly, I choose you for my friend, as you are a creature capable of delivering from such calamities." When the mouse saw that crow from the inside of his hole, he said, "Depart! what friendship can there be between the eater and his prey?" Then the crow said,--"God forbid! If I were to eat you, my hunger might be satisfied for a moment, but if I make you my friend, my life will be always preserved by you." When the crow had said this, and more, and had taken an oath, and so inspired confidence in the mouse, the mouse came out, and the crow made friends with him. The mouse brought out pieces of flesh and grains of rice, and there they both remained eating together in great happiness. And one day the crow said to his friend the mouse: "At a considerable distance from this place there is a river in the middle of a forest, and in it there lives a tortoise named Mantharaka, who is a friend of mine; for his sake I will go to that place where flesh and other food is easily obtained; it is difficult for me to obtain sustenance here, and I am in continual dread of the fowler." When the crow said this to him, the mouse answered,--"Then we will live together, take me there also; for I too have an annoyance here, and when we get there, I will explain the whole matter to you." When Hiranya said this, Laghupátin took him in his beak, and flew to the bank of that forest stream. And there he found his friend, the tortoise Mantharaka, who welcomed him, and he and the mouse sat with him. And after they had conversed a little, that crow told the tortoise the cause of his coming, together with the circumstance of his having made friends with Hiranya. Then the tortoise adopted the mouse, as his friend on an equal footing with the crow, and asked the cause of the annoyance which drove him from his native place. Then Hiranya gave this account of his experiences in the hearing of the crow and the tortoise. Story of the Mouse and the Hermit. [59] I lived in a great hole near the city, and one night I stole a necklace from the palace, and laid it up in my hole. And by looking at that necklace I acquired strength, [60] and a number of mice attached themselves to me, as being able to steal food for them. In the meanwhile a hermit had made a cell near my hole, and he lived on a large stock of food, which he obtained by begging. Every evening he used to put the food, which remained over after he had eaten, in his beggar's porringer on an inaccessible peg, meaning to eat it the next day. [61] And, every night, when he was asleep, I entered by a hole, and jumping up, carried it off. Once on a time, another hermit, a friend of his, came there, and after eating, conversed with him during the night. And I was at that time attempting to carry off the food, so the first hermit, who was listening, made the pot resound frequently by striking it with a piece of split cane. And the hermit, who was his guest, said, "Why do you interrupt our conversation to do this?" Whereupon the hermit to whom the cell belonged, answered him, "I have got an enemy here in the form of this mouse, who is always jumping up and carrying off this food of mine, though it is high up. I am trying to frighten him by moving the pot of food with a piece of cane." When he said this, the other hermit said to him, "In truth this covetousness is the bane of creatures, hear a story illustrative of this." Story of the Bráhman's wife and the sesame-seeds. [62] Once on a time, as I was wandering from one sacred bathing-place to another, I reached a town, and there I entered the house of a certain Bráhman to stay. And while I was there, the Bráhman said to his wife, "Cook to-day, as it is the change of the moon, a dish composed of milk, sesame, and rice, for the Bráhmans." She answered him, "How can a pauper, like you, afford this?" Then the Bráhman said to her, "My dear, though we should hoard, we should not direct our thoughts to excessive hoarding--hear this tale." Story of the greedy Jackal. [63] In a certain forest a hunter, after he had been hunting, fixed an arrow in a self-acting bow, [64] and after placing flesh on it, pursued a wild boar. He pierced the wild boar with a dart, but was mortally wounded by his tusks, and died; and a jackal beheld all this from a distance. So he came, but though he was hungry, he would not eat any of the abundant flesh of the hunter and the boar, wishing to hoard it up. But he went first to eat what had been placed on the bow, and that moment the arrow fixed in it flew up, and pierced him so that he died. "So you must not indulge in excessive hoarding." When the Bráhman said this, his wife consented, and placed some sesame-seeds in the sun. And while she went into the house, a dog tasted them and defiled them, so nobody would buy that dish of sesame-seeds and rice. [65] "So, you see, covetousness does not give pleasure, it only causes annoyance to those who cherish it." When the hermit, who was a visitor, had said this, he went on to say; "If you have a spade, give it me, in order that I may take steps to put a stop to this annoyance caused by the mouse." Thereupon the hermit, to whom the cell belonged, gave the visitor a spade, and I, who saw it all from my place of concealment, entered my hole. Then the cunning hermit, who had come to visit the other, discovering the hole by which I entered, began to dig. And while I retired further and further in, he went on digging, until at last he reached the necklace and the rest of my stores. And he said to the hermit, who resided there, in my hearing, "It was by the power of this necklace that the mouse had such strength." So they took away all my wealth and placed the necklace on their necks, and then the master of the cell and the visitor went to sleep with light hearts. But when they were asleep, I came again to steal, and the resident hermit woke up and hit me with a stick on the head. That wounded me, but, as it chanced, did not kill me, and I returned to my hole. But after that, I had never strength to make the bound necessary for stealing the food. For wealth is youth to creatures, and the want of it produces old age; owing to the want of it, spirit, might, beauty, and enterprise fail. So all my retinue of mice, seeing that I had become intent on feeding myself only, left me. Servants leave a master who does not support them, bees a tree without flowers, swans a tank without water, in spite of long association. "So I have been long in a state of despondency, but now, having obtained this Laghupátin for a friend, I have come here to visit you, noble tortoise." When Hiranya had said this, the tortoise Manthara answered--"This is a home to you; so do not be despondent, my friend. To a virtuous man no country is foreign; a man who is content cannot be unhappy; for the man of endurance calamity does not exist; there is nothing impossible to the enterprising." While the tortoise was saying this, a deer, named Chitránga, came to that wood from a great distance, having been terrified by the hunters. When they saw him, and observed that no hunter was pursuing him, the tortoise and his companions made friends with him, and he recovered his strength and spirits. And those four, the crow, the tortoise, the mouse, and the deer, long lived there happily as friends, engaged in reciprocal courtesies. One day Chitránga was behind time, and Laghupátin flew to the top of a tree to look for him, and surveyed the whole wood. And he saw Chitránga on the bank of the river, entangled in the fatal noose, and then he came down and told this to the mouse and the tortoise. Then they deliberated together, and Laghupátin took up the mouse in his beak, and carried him to Chitránga. And the mouse Hiranya comforted the deer, who was distressed at being caught, and in a moment set him at liberty by gnawing his bonds asunder. [66] In the meanwhile the tortoise Manthara, who was devoted to his friends, came up the bank near them, having travelled along the bed of the river. At that very moment the hunter, who had set the noose, arrived from somewhere or other, and when the deer and the others escaped, caught and made prize of the tortoise. And he put it in a net, and went off, grieved at having lost the deer. In the meanwhile the friends saw what had taken place, and by the advice of the far-seeing mouse, the deer went a considerable distance off, and fell down as if he were dead. [67] And the crow stood upon his head, and pretended to peck his eyes. When the hunter saw that, he imagined that he had captured the deer, as it was dead, and he began to make for it, after putting down the tortoise on the bank of the river. When the mouse saw him making towards the deer, he came up, and gnawed a hole in the net which held the tortoise, so the tortoise was set at liberty, and he plunged into the river. And when the deer saw the hunter coming near, without the tortoise, he got up, and ran off, and the crow, for his part, flew up a tree. Then the hunter came back, and finding that the tortoise had escaped by the net's having been gnawed asunder, he returned home, lamenting that the tortoise had fled and could not be recovered. Then the four friends came together again in high spirits, and the gratified deer addressed the three others as follows; "I am fortunate in having obtained you for friends, for you have to-day delivered me from death at the risk of your lives." In such words the deer praised the crow and the tortoise and the mouse, and they all lived together delighting in their mutual friendship. Thus, you see, even animals attain their ends by wisdom, and they risk their lives sooner than abandon their friends in calamity. So full of love is the attachment that subsists among friends; but attachment to women is not approved because it is open to jealousy; hear a story in proof of this. Story of the wife who falsely accused her husband of murdering a Bhilla. [68] There lived once on a time in a certain town a jealous husband, who had for wife a beautiful woman, whom he loved exceedingly. But being suspicious he never left her alone, for he feared that she might be seduced even by men in pictures. However, one day he had to go to another country on unavoidable business, and he took his wife with him. And seeing that a forest inhabited by Bhillas lay in his way, he left his wife in the house of an old Bráhman villager, and proceeded on his journey. But, while she was there, she saw some Bhillas, who had come that way, and she eloped with a young Bhilla whom she saw. And she went with him to his village, [69] following her inclinations, having escaped from her jealous husband, as a river that has broken a dam. In the meanwhile her husband finished his business, and returned, and asked the Bráhman villager for his wife, and the Bráhman answered him, "I do not know where she has gone; so much only I know, that some Bhillas came here: she must have been carried off by them. And their village is near here, go there quickly, you will find your wife there, without doubt." When the Bráhman told him this, he wept, and blamed his own folly, and went to that village of Bhillas, and there he saw his wife. When the wicked woman saw him, she approached him in fear and said, "It is not my fault, the Bhilla brought me here by force." Her husband, blind with love, said, "Come along, let us return home, before any one discovers us." But she said to him, "Now is the time when the Bhilla returns from hunting; when he returns he will certainly pursue you and me, and kill us both. So enter this cavern at present, and remain concealed. But at night we will kill him when he is asleep, and leave this place in perfect safety." When the wicked woman said this to him, he entered the cave; what room is there for discernment in the heart of one blinded with love? The Bhilla returned at the close of the day, and that wicked woman shewed him her husband in the cave, whom his passion had enabled her to decoy there. And the Bhilla, who was a strong man, and cruel, dragged out the husband, and tied him firmly to a tree, in order that he might next day offer him to Bhavání. And he ate his dinner, and at night lay down to sleep by the side of the faithless wife, before the eyes of the husband. Then that jealous husband, who was tied to the tree, seeing him asleep, implored Bhavání to help him in his need, praising her with hymns. She appeared and granted him a boon, so that he escaped from his bonds, and cut off the head of the Bhilla with his own sword. Then he woke up his wife, and said to her: "Come, I have killed this villain," and she rose up much grieved. And the faithless woman set out at night with her husband, but she secretly took with her the head of the Bhilla. And the next morning, when they reached a town, she shewed the head, and laying hands upon her husband, cried out, "This man has killed my husband." Then the city police took her with her husband before the king. And the jealous husband, being questioned, told the whole story. Then the king enquired into it, and finding that it was true, he ordered the ears and nose of that faithless wife to be cut off, and set her husband at liberty. And he went home freed from the demon of love for a wicked woman. "This, prince, is how a woman behaves when over-jealously watched, for the jealousy of the husband teaches the wife to run after other men. So a wise man should guard his wife without shewing jealousy. And a man must by no means reveal a secret to a woman, if he desires prosperity. Hear a story shewing this." Story of the snake who told his secret to a woman. A certain snake, [70] out of fear of Garuda, fled to earth, and taking the form of a man, concealed himself in the house of a hetæra. And that hetæra used to take as payment five hundred elephants; [71] and the snake by his power gave her five hundred every day. And the lady importuned him to tell her how he acquired so many elephants every day, and who he was. And he, blinded with love, replied--"I am a snake hiding here from fear of Garuda, do not tell any one." But the hetæra privately told all this to the kuttiní. Now Garuda, searching through the world for the snake, came there in the form of a man, and he came to the kuttiní and said; "I wish to remain to-day in your daughter's house, take my payment." And the kuttiní said to him, "There is a snake living here, who gives us five hundred elephants every day. What do we care about one day's pay?" Then Garuda, finding out that the snake was living there, entered as a guest that hetæra's house. And there he saw the snake on the flat roof, and revealing himself in his real form, he swooped down, and killed him, and ate him. "So a wise man should not recklessly tell secrets to women." Having said this, Gomukha told him another story of a simpleton. Story of the bald man and the hair-restorer. There was a bald man, with a head like a copper pot. And he, being a fool, was ashamed because, though a rich man in the world, he had no hair on his head. Then a rogue, who lived upon others, came to him and said, "There is a physician who knows a drug that will produce hair." When he heard it, he said;--"If you bring him to me, I will give wealth to you and to that physician also." When he said this, the rogue for a long time devoured his substance, and brought to that simpleton a doctor who was a rogue also. And after the doctor too had long lived at his expense, he one day removed his head-dress designedly, and shewed him his bald head. In spite of that, the blockhead, without considering, asked him for a drug which would produce hair, then the physician said to him,--"Since I am bald myself, how can I produce hair in others? It was in order to explain this to you, that I showed you my bald head. But out on you! you do not understand even now." With these words the physician went away. "So you see, prince, rogues perpetually make sport of fools. You have heard the story of the simpleton and his hair, now hear that of the simpleton and the oil." Story of a foolish servant. A certain gentleman had a simpleton for a servant. His master sent him once to fetch oil from a merchant, and he received from him the oil in a vessel. And as he was returning, with the vessel in his hand, a friend of his said to him,--"Take care of this oil-vessel, it leaks at the bottom." When the blockhead heard this, he turned the vessel upside down to look at the bottom of it, and that made all the oil fall on the ground. When his master heard that, he turned out of his house that fool, who was the laughing-stock of the place. "So it is better for a simpleton to rely upon his own sense, and not to take advice. You have heard about the simpleton and the oil, now hear the story of the simpleton and the bones." Story of the faithless wife who was present at her own Sráddha. [72] There was once a foolish man, and he had an unchaste wife. Once on a time, when her husband had gone away for some business to another country, she placed in charge of the house a confidential servant of hers, a truly unique maid, after giving her instructions as to what she was to do, and went away alone to the house of her paramour, intent on enjoying herself without being interfered with. When the lady's husband returned, the maid, who had been well schooled beforehand, said with a voice choked with tears: "Your wife is dead and burnt." She then took him to the burning-ghaut, and shewed him the bones belonging to the pyre of some other person; the fool brought them home with tears, and after bathing at the sacred bathing-places, and strewing her bones there, he proceeded to perform her sráddha. And he made his wife's paramour the officiating Bráhman at the ceremony, as the maid brought him, saying that he was an excellent Bráhman. And every month his wife came with that Bráhman, splendidly dressed, and ate the sweetmeats. And then the maid said to him, "See, master, by virtue of her chastity your wife is enabled to return from the other world, and eat with the Bráhman." And the matchless fool believed most implicitly what she said. "In this way people of simple dispositions are easily imposed upon by wicked women. You have heard about the simpleton and the bones; now hear the story of the Chandála maiden." Story of the ambitious Chandála maiden. There was once a simple but good-looking Chandála maiden. And she formed in her heart the determination to win for her bridegroom a universal monarch. Once on a time, she saw the supreme sovereign go out to make a progress round his city, and she proceeded to follow him, with the intention of making him her husband. At that moment a hermit came that way; and the king, though mounted on an elephant, bowed at his feet, and returned to his own palace. When she saw that, she thought that the hermit was a greater man even than the king, and abandoning him, she proceeded to follow the hermit. The hermit, as he was going along, beheld in front of him an empty temple of Siva, and kneeling on the ground, he worshipped Siva, and then departed. Then the Chandála maiden thought that Siva was greater even than the hermit, and she left the hermit, and attached herself to the god, with the intention of marrying him. Immediately a dog entered, and going up on to the pedestal of the idol, lifted up his leg, and behaved after the manner of the dog tribe. Then the Chandála maiden thought that the dog was superior even to Siva, and leaving the god, followed the departing dog, desiring to marry him. And the dog entered the house of a Chandála, and out of affection rolled at the feet of a young Chandála whom it knew. When she saw that, she concluded that the young Chandála was superior to the dog, and satisfied with her own caste, she chose him as her husband. "So fools, after aspiring high, fall into their proper place. And now hear in a few words the tale of the foolish king." Story of the miserly king. There was a certain foolish king, who was niggardly, though he possessed an abundant treasure, and once on a time his ministers, who desired his prosperity, said to him: "King, charity here averts misery in the next life. So bestow wealth in charity; life and riches are perishable." When the king heard this, he said, "Then I will bestow wealth, when I am dead, and see myself reduced to a state of misery here." Then the ministers remained silent, laughing in their sleeves. "So, you see, a fool never takes leave of his wealth, until his wealth takes leave of him. You have heard, prince, of the foolish king, now hear the story of the two friends, by way of an episode in these tales of fools." Story of Dhavalamukha, his trading friend, and his fighting friend. [73] There was a king in Kányakubja, named Chandrapída. And he had a servant named Dhavalamukha. And he, whenever he came to his house, had eaten and drunk abroad. And one day his wife asked him,--"Where do you always eat and drink before you come home?" And Dhavalamukha answered her, "I always eat and drink with my friends before I come home, for I have two friends in the world. The one is called Kalyánavarman, who obliges me with food and other gifts, and the other is Vírabáhu, who would oblige me with the gift of his life." When his wife heard this, she said to Dhavalamukha, "Then shew me your two friends." Then he went with her to the house of Kalyánavarman, and Kalyánavarman honoured him with a splendid entertainment. The next day he went with his wife to Vírabáhu, and he was gambling at the time, so he welcomed him and dismissed him. Then Dhavalamukha's wife, being full of curiosity, said to him: "Kalyánavarman entertained you splendidly, but Vírabáhu only gave you a welcome. So why do you think more highly of Vírabáhu than of the other?" When he heard that, he said, "Go and tell them both in succession this fabrication, that the king has suddenly become displeased with us, and you will find out for yourself." She agreed, and went to Kalyánavarman and told him that falsehood, and he answered: "Lady, I am a merchant's son, what can I do against the king?" When he gave her this answer, she went to Vírabáhu, and told him also that the king was angry with her husband; and the moment he heard it, he came running with his shield and his sword. But Dhavalamukha induced him to return home, saying that the king's ministers had pacified his resentment. And he said to his wife: "This, my dear, is the difference between those two friends of mine." And she was quite satisfied. "So you see that a friend, that shews his friendship by ceremonious entertainment only, is a different thing from a real friend; though oil and ghee both possess the property of oiliness, [74] oil is oil, and ghee is ghee." When Gomukha had told this story, he continued his tales of fools for the benefit of Naraváhanadatta. Story of the thirsty fool that did not drink. A certain foolish traveller, tormented by thirst, having with difficulty got through a wood, reached a river; however, he did not drink of it, but kept looking at the water. Some one said to him: "Why do you not drink water, though you are thirsty?" But the blockhead answered, "How could I drink so much water as this?" The other person ridiculed him, saying, "What! will the king punish you, if you drink it all up?" But still the foolish man did not drink the water. "So you see that in this world fools will not even do a part of a task to the best of their power, if they are not able to complete it altogether. Now you have heard about the fool and the water, hear the story of the son-slayer." Story of the fool who killed his son. There was once a foolish man, who was poor and had many sons. When one of his sons died, he killed another, saying, How could this child go such a long journey alone? So he was banished by the people, as being a fool and a criminal. "Thus a fool is as void of sense and discernment as an animal. You have heard of the son-killer, now hear the story of the fool and his brother." Story of the fool and his brother. A certain stupid fellow was talking in a crowd of men. Seeing a respectable man some way off, he said: "That man there is brother to me, so I shall inherit his property, but I am no relation to him, so I am not liable for his debts." When the fool said this, even the stones laughed at him. Thus fools shew folly, and people blinded by the thought of their own advantage behave in a very wonderful way. So you have heard the story of the fool and his brother, now hear the story of the man whose father followed a strict vow of chastity." Story of the Brahmachárin's son. A certain fool was engaged in relating his father's good qualities in the midst of his friends. And describing his father's superior excellence, he said: "My father has followed a strict vow of chastity from his youth, there is no man who can be compared with him." When his friends heard that, they said, "How did you come into the world?" He answered "Oh! I am a mind-born son of his;" whereupon the matchless fool was well laughed at by the people. [75] "Thus foolish people make self-contradictory statements with regard to others. You have heard the story of the son of the man who observed a strict vow of chastity. Hear now the story of the astrologer." Story of the astrologer who killed his son. There was a certain astrologer wanting in discernment. He left his own country with his wife and son, because he could not earn a subsistence, and went to another country. There he made a deceitful display of his skill, in order to gain complimentary presents by a factitious reputation for ability. He embraced his son before the public and shed tears. When the people asked him why he did this, the wicked man said: "I know the past, the present, and the future, and that enables me to foresee that this child of mine will die in seven days from this time: this is why I am weeping." By these words he excited the wonder of the people, and when the seventh day arrived, he killed his son in the morning, as he lay asleep. When the people saw that his son was dead, they felt confidence in his skill, and honoured him with presents, and so he acquired wealth and returned leisurely to his own country. "Thus foolish men, through desire of wealth, go so far as to kill their sons, in order to make a false display of prescience; the wise should not make friends with such. Now hear the story of the foolish man who was addicted to anger." Story of the violent man who justified his character. One day a man was relating to his friends, inside a house, the good qualities of a man, who was listening outside. Then a person present said: "It is true, my friend, that he possesses many good qualities, but he has two faults; he is violent and irascible." While he was saying this, the man, who was outside, overhearing him, entered hastily, and twisted his garment round his throat, and said: "You fool, what violence have I done, what anger have I been guilty of?" This he said in an abusive way, inflamed with the fire of anger. Then the others who were there laughed, and said to him, "Why should he speak? You have been good enough to give us ocular demonstration of your anger and your violence." "So you see that fools do not know their own faults, though they are patent to all men. Now hear about the foolish king who made his daughter grow." Story of the foolish king who made his daughter grow. [76] A certain king had a handsome daughter born to him. On account of his great affection for her, he wished to make her grow, so he quickly summoned physicians, and said politely to them: "Make some preparation of salutary drugs, in order that my daughter may grow up quickly, and be married to a good husband." When the physicians heard this, they said, in order to get a living out of the silly king: "There is a medicine which will do this, but it can only be procured in a distant country, and while we are sending for it, we must shut up your daughter in concealment, for this is the treatment laid down for such cases." When they had said this, they placed his daughter in concealment there for many years, saying that they were engaged in bringing that medicine. And when she grew up to be a young woman, they shewed her to that king, telling him that she had been made to grow by the medicine; and he was pleased, and loaded them with heaps of wealth. "In this way rogues by means of imposture live on foolish sovereigns. Now hear the story of a man who shewed his cleverness by recovering half a pana." Story of the man who recovered half a pana from his servant. [77] There was once on a time a man living in a town, who was vain of his wisdom. And a certain villager, who had served him for a year, being dissatisfied with his salary, left him and went home. And when he had gone, the town-bred gentleman said to his wife,--"My dear, I hope you did not give him anything before he went?" She answered, "Half a pana." Then he spent ten panas in provisions for the journey, and overtook that servant on the bank of a river, and recovered from him that half pana. And when he related it as a proof of his skill in saving money, he became a public laughing-stock. "Thus men, whose minds are blinded with wealth, fling away much to gain little. Now hear the story of the man who took notes of the spot." Story of the fool who took notes of a certain spot in the sea. [78] A certain foolish person, while travelling by sea, let a silver vessel fall from his hand into the water. The fool took notes of the spot, observing the eddies and other signs in the water, and said to himself: "I will bring it up from the bottom, when I return." He reached the other side of the sea, and as he was re-crossing, he saw the eddies and other signs, and thinking he recognized the spot, he plunged into the water again and again to recover his silver vessel. When the others asked him what his object was, he told them, and got well laughed at and abused for his pains. "Now hear the story of the king who wished to substitute other flesh for what he had taken away." Story of the king who replaced the flesh. [79] A foolish king saw from his palace two men below. And seeing that one of them had taken flesh from the kitchen, he had five palas of flesh cut from his body. When the flesh had been cut away, the man groaned and fell on the earth, and the king, seeing him, was moved with compassion, and said to the warder: "His grief cannot be assuaged because five palas of flesh were cut from him, so give him more than five palas of flesh by way of compensation." The warder said: "When a man's head is cut off, does he live even if you give him a hundred heads?" Then he went outside and had his laugh out, and comforted the man from whom the flesh had been cut, and handed him over to the physicians. "So you see, a silly king knows how to punish, but not how to shew favour. Hear this story of the silly woman who wanted another son." Story of the woman who wanted another son. [80] One day a woman with only one son, desiring another, applied to a wicked female ascetic belonging to a heretical sect. The ascetic told her that, if she killed her young son and offered him to the divinity, another son would certainly be born to her. When she was preparing to carry out this advice, another and a good old woman said to her in private: "Wicked woman, you are going to kill the son you have already, and wish to get another. Supposing a second is not born to you, what will you do?" So that good old woman dissuaded her from crime. "So women, who associate with witches, fall into evil courses, but they are restrained and saved by the advice of the old. Now, prince, hear the story of the man who brought the ámalaka fruit." Story of the servant who tasted the fruit. [81] A certain householder had a stupid servant. As the householder was fond of ámalakas, he said to his servant, "Go, and bring me some perfectly sweet ámalakas from the garden." The foolish fellow bit every one, to taste if it was sweet, and then brought them, and said; "Look, master, I tasted these and found them sweet, before bringing them." And his master, seeing that they were half eaten, sent them away in disgust and his stupid servant too. "Thus a foolish person ruins his master's interests and then his own, and here by way of episode hear the story of the two brothers." Story of the two brothers Yajnasoma and Kírtisoma. There were two Bráhmans, brothers, in the city of Pátaliputra; the elder was called Yajnasoma and the younger Kírtisoma. And those two young Bráhmans had much wealth derived from their father. Kírtisoma increased his share by business, but Yajnasoma exhausted his by enjoying and giving. Then, being reduced to poverty, he said to his wife; "My dear, how can I, who am reduced from riches to poverty, live among my relations? Let us go to some foreign country." She said,--"How can we go without money for the journey." Still her husband insisted, so she said to him: "If you really must go, then first go and ask your younger brother Kírtisoma for some money for the journey." So he went and asked his younger brother for his travelling expenses, but his younger brother's wife said to him: "How can we give even the smallest sum to this man who has wasted his substance. For every one who falls into poverty will sponge on us." When Kírtisoma heard this, he no longer felt inclined to give anything to his elder brother, though he loved him. Subjection to bad women is pernicious! Then Yajnasoma went away silent, and told that to his wife, and set out with her, relying upon the help of Heaven only. When they reached the wood, it happened that, as he was going along, he was swallowed by a monstrous serpent. And when his wife saw it, she fell on the ground and lamented. And the serpent said with a human voice to the lady: "Why do you lament, my good woman?" The Bráhman lady answered the snake: "How can I help lamenting, mighty sir, when you have deprived me in this remote spot of my only means of obtaining alms?" When the serpent heard that, he brought out of his mouth a great vessel of gold and gave it her, saying, "Take this as a vessel in which to receive alms." [82] The good Bráhman lady said, "Who will give me alms in this vessel, for I am a woman?" The serpent said: "If any one refuses to give you alms in it, his head shall that moment burst into a hundred pieces. What I say is true." When the virtuous Bráhman lady heard that, she said to the serpent, "If this is so, then give me my husband in it by way of alms." The moment the good lady said this, the serpent brought her husband out of his mouth alive and unharmed. As soon as the serpent had done this, he became a man of heavenly appearance, and being pleased, he said to the joyful couple: "I am a king of the Vidyádharas, named Kánchanavega, and by the curse of Gautama I was reduced to the condition of a serpent. And it was appointed that my curse should end when I conversed with a good woman." When the king of the Vidyádharas had said this, he immediately filled the vessel with jewels, and delighted flew up into the sky. And the couple returned home with abundance of jewels. And there Yajnasoma lived in happiness having obtained inexhaustible wealth. "Providence gives to every one in accordance with his or her character. Hear the story of the foolish man who asked for the barber." Story of the fool who wanted a barber. A certain inhabitant of Karnáta pleased his king by his daring behaviour in battle. His sovereign was pleased, and promised to give him whatever he asked for, but the spiritless warrior chose the king's barber. "Every man chooses what is good or bad according to the measure of his own intellect: now hear the story of the foolish man who asked for nothing at all." Story of the man who asked for nothing at all. A certain foolish man, as he was going along the road, was asked by a carter to do something to make his cart balance evenly. He said, "If I make it right, what will you give me?" The carter answered; "I will give you nothing at all." Then the fool put the cart even, and said, "Give me the nothing-at-all you promised." But the carter laughed at him. "So you see, king, fools are for ever becoming the object of the scorn and contempt and reproach of men, and fall into misfortune, while the good on the other hand are thought worthy of honour." When the prince surrounded by his ministers, had heard at night these amusing stories from Gomukha, he was enabled to enjoy sleep, which refreshes the whole of the three worlds. CHAPTER LXII. The next morning Naraváhanadatta got up, and went into the presence of the king of Vatsa his loving father. There he found Sinhavarman, the brother of the queen Padmávatí and the son of the king of Magadha, who had come there from his own house. The day passed in expressions of welcome, and friendly conversation, and after Naraváhanadatta had had dinner, he returned home. There the wise Gomukha told this story at night, in order to console him who was longing for the society of Saktiyasas. Story of the war between the crows and the owls. [83] There was in a certain place a great and shady banyan-tree, which seemed, with the voices of its birds, to summon travellers to repose. There a king of the crows, named Meghavarna, had established his home, and he had an enemy named Avamarda, king of the owls. The king of the owls surprised the king of the crows there at night, and after inflicting a defeat on him and killing many crows, departed. The next morning the king of the crows, after the usual compliments, said to his ministers Uddívin, Ádívin, Sandívin, Pradívin, [84] and Chirajívin: "That powerful enemy, who has thus defeated us, may get together a hundred thousand soldiers, and make another descent on us. So let some preventive measure be devised for this case." When Uddívin heard this, he said; "King, with a powerful enemy, one must either retire to another country, or adopt conciliation." When Ádívin heard this, he said, "The danger is not immediate; let us consider the intentions of the adversary and our own power, and do the best we can." Then Sandívin said, "King, death is preferable to submission to the foe, or retiring to another country. We must go and fight with that feeble enemy; a brave and enterprising king, who possesses allies, conquers his foes." Then Pradívin said, "He is too powerful to be conquered in battle, but we must make a truce with him, and kill him when we get an opportunity." Then Chirajívin said, "What truce? Who will be ambassador? There is war between the crows and the owls from time immemorial; who will go to them? This must be accomplished by policy; policy is said to be the very foundation of empires." When the king of the crows heard that, he said to Chirajívin,--"You are old; tell me if you know, what was originally the cause of the war between the crows and the owls. You shall state your policy afterwards." When Chirajívin heard this, he answered, "It is all due to an inconsiderate utterance. Have you never heard the story of the donkey?" Story of the ass in the panther's skin. [85] A certain washerman had a thin donkey; so, in order to make it fat, he used to cover it with the skin of a panther and let it loose to feed in his neighbour's corn. While it was eating the corn, people were afraid to drive it away, thinking that it was a panther. One day a cultivator, who had a bow in his hand, saw it. He thought it was a panther, and through fear bending down, and making himself humpbacked, he proceeded to creep away, with his body covered with a rug. When the donkey saw him going away in this style, he thought he was another donkey, and being primed with corn, he uttered aloud his own asinine bray. Then the cultivator came to the conclusion that it was a donkey, and returning, killed with an arrow the foolish animal, which had made an enemy with its own voice. "In the same way our feud with the crows is due to an inconsiderate utterance." How the crow dissuaded the birds from choosing the owl king. [86] For once upon a time the birds were without a king. They all assembled together, and bringing an umbrella and a chowrie, were proceeding to anoint the owl king of the birds. In the meanwhile a crow, flying in the air above, saw it, and said; "You fools, are there not other birds, cuckoos and so on, that you must make this cruel-eyed unpleasant-looking wicked bird king? Out on the inauspicious owl! You must elect a heroic king whose name will ensure prosperity. Listen now, I will tell you a tale. Story of the elephants and the hares. [87] There is a great lake abounding in water, called Chandrasaras. And on its bank there lived a king of the hares, named Silímukha. Now, once on a time, a leader of a herd of elephants, named Chaturdanta, came there to drink water, because all the other reservoirs of water were dried up in the drought that prevailed. Then many of the hares, who were the subjects of that king, were trampled to death by Chaturdanta's herd, while entering the lake. When that monarch of the herd had departed, the hare-king Silímukha, being grieved, said to a hare named Vijaya in the presence of the others; "Now that that lord of elephants has tasted the water of this lake, he will come here again and again, and utterly destroy us all, so think of some expedient in this case. Go to him, and see if you have any artifice which will suit the purpose or not. For you know business and expedients, and are an ingenious orator. And in all cases in which you have been engaged the result has been fortunate." When despatched with these words, the hare was pleased, and went slowly on his way. And following up the track of the herd, he overtook that elephant-king and saw him, and being determined somehow or other to have an interview with the mighty beast, the wise hare climbed up to the top of a rock, and said to the elephant; "I am the ambassador of the moon, and this is what the god says to you by my mouth; 'I dwell in a cool lake named Chandrasaras; [88] there dwell hares whose king I am, and I love them well, and thence I am known to men as the cool-rayed and the hare-marked; [89] now thou hast defiled that lake and slain those hares of mine. If thou do that again, thou shalt receive thy due recompense from me.'" When the king of elephants heard this speech of the crafty hare's, he said in his terror; "I will never do so again: I must shew respect to the awful moon-god." The hare said,--"So come, my friend, I pray, and we will shew him to you." After saying this, the hare led the king of elephants to the lake, and shewed him the reflection of the moon in the water. When the lord of the herd saw that, he bowed before it timidly at a distance, oppressed with awe, and never came there again. And Silímukha, the king of the hares, was present, and witnessed the whole transaction, and after honouring that hare, who went as an ambassador, he lived there in security. When the crow had told this story, he went on to say to the birds, "This is the right sort of king, whose name alone ensures none of his subjects being injured. So why does this base owl, who cannot see in the day, deserve a throne? And a base creature is never to be trusted, hear this tale in proof of it." Story of the bird, the hare, and the cat. [90] Once on a time I lived in a certain tree, and below me in the same tree a bird, named Kapinjala, had made a nest and lived. One day he went away somewhere, and he did not return for many days. In the meanwhile a hare came and took possession of his nest. After some days Kapinjala returned, and an altercation arose between him and the hare, as both laid claim to the nest, exclaiming; "It is mine, not yours." Then they both set out in search of a qualified arbitrator. And I, out of curiosity, followed them unobserved, to see what would turn up. After they had gone a little way they saw on the bank of a lake a cat, who pretended to have taken a vow of abstinence from injury to all creatures, with his eyes half-closed in meditation. They said to one another; "Why should we not ask this holy cat here to declare what is just?"--Then they approached the cat and said; "Reverend sir, hear our cause, for you are a holy ascetic." When the cat heard that, he said to them in a low voice,--"I am weak from self-mortification, so I cannot hear at a distance, pray, come near me. For a case wrongly decided brings temporal and eternal death." With these words the cat encouraged them to come just in front of him, and then the base creature killed at one spring both the hare and Kapinjala. "So, you see, one cannot confide in villains whose actions are base. Accordingly you must not make this owl king, for he is a great villain." When the crow said this to the birds, they admitted the force of it, and gave up the idea of anointing the owl king, and dispersed in all directions. And the owl said to the crow; "Remember; from this day forth you and I are enemies. Now I take my leave of you." And he went away in a rage. But the crow, though he thought that he had spoken what was right, was for a moment despondent. Who is not grieved when he has involved himself in a dangerous quarrel by a mere speech? "So you see that our feud with the owls arose from an inconsiderate utterance." Having said this to the king, Chirajívin continued, "The owls are numerous and strong, and you cannot conquer them. Numbers prevail in this world, hear an instance." Story of the Bráhman, the goat, and the rogues. [91] A Bráhman had bought a goat, and was returning from a village with it on his shoulder, when he was seen on the way by many rogues, who wished to deprive him of the goat. And one of them came up to him, and pretending to be in a great state of excitement, said; "Bráhman, how come you to have this dog on your shoulder? Put it down." When the Bráhman heard that, he paid no attention to it, but went on his way. Then two more came up and said the very same thing to him. Then he began to doubt, and went along examining the goat carefully, when three other rascals came up to him and said: "How comes it that you carry a dog and a sacrificial thread at the same time? Surely you must be a hunter, not a Bráhman, and this is the dog with the help of which you kill game." When the Bráhman heard that, he said: "Surely some demon has smitten my sight and bewildered me. Can all these men be under the influence of an optical delusion?" Thereupon the Bráhman flung down the goat, and after bathing, returned home, and the rogues took the goat and made a satisfactory meal off it. After Chirajívin had told this tale, he said to the king of the crows: "So you see, king, numerous and powerful foes are hard to conquer. So you had better adopt, in this war with powerful foes, the following expedient, which I suggest. Pluck out some of my feathers, [92] and leave me under this tree, and go to that hill there, until I return, having accomplished my object. The king of the crows agreed, and plucked out some of his feathers, as if in anger, and placed him under the tree, and went off to the mountain with his followers: and Chirajívin remained lying flat under the tree which was his home. Then the king of the owls, Avamarda, came there at night with his followers, and he did not see a single crow on the tree. At that moment Chirajívin uttered a feeble caw below, and the king of the owls, hearing it, came down, and saw him lying there. In his astonishment he asked him who he was, and why he was in that state. And Chirajívin answered, pretending that his voice was weak from pain; "I am Chirajívin, the minister of that king of the crows. And he wished to make an attack on you in accordance with the advice of his ministers. Then I rebuked those other ministers, and said to him, 'If you ask me for advice, and if I am valued by you, in that case you will not make war with the powerful king of the owls. But you will endeavour to propitiate him, if you have any regard for policy.' When the foolish king of the crows heard that, he exclaimed, 'This fellow is a partisan of my enemies,' and in his wrath, he and his followers pecked me, and reduced me to this state. And he flung me down under the tree, and went off somewhere or other with his followers." When Chirajívin had said this, he sighed, and turned his face to the ground. And then the king of the owls asked his ministers what they ought to do with Chirajívin. When his minister Díptanayana heard this, he said, "Good people spare even a thief, though ordinarily he ought not to be spared, if they find that he is a benefactor." Story of the old merchant and his young wife. [93] For once on a time there was a certain merchant in a certain town, who, though old, managed to marry by the help of his wealth a young girl of the merchant caste. And she was always averse to him on account of his old age, as the bee turns away from the forest-tree when the time of flowers is past. [94] And one night a thief got into his house, while the husband and wife were in bed; and, when the wife saw him, she was afraid, and turned round and embraced her husband. The merchant thought that a wonderful piece of good fortune, and while looking in all directions for the explanation, he saw the thief in a corner. The merchant said; "You have done me a benefit, so I will not have you killed by my servants." And so he spared his life and sent him away. "So we ought to spare the life of this Chirajívin, as he is our benefactor." When the minister Díptanayana had said this, he remained silent. Then the king of the owls said to another minister, named Vakranása, "What ought we to do? Give me proper advice." Then Vakranása said, "He should be spared, for he knows the secrets of our foes. This quarrel between the enemies' king and his minister is for our advantage. Listen, and I will tell you a story which will illustrate it." Story of the Bráhman, the thief, and the Rákshasa. [95] A certain excellent Bráhman received two cows as a donation. A thief happened to see them, and began plotting how to carry them off. At that very time a Rákshasa was longing to eat that Bráhman. It happened that the thief and the Rákshasa, as they were going to his house at night to accomplish their objects, met, and telling one another their errands, went together. When the thief and the Rákshasa entered the Bráhman's dwelling, they began to wrangle. The thief said; "I will carry off the oxen first, for if you lay hold of the Bráhman first, and he wakes up, how can I get the yoke of oxen?" The Rákshasa said; "By no means! I will first carry off the Bráhman, otherwise he will wake up with the noise of the feet of the oxen, and my labour will all be in vain." While this was going on, the Bráhman woke up. Then he took his sword, and began to recite a charm for destroying Rákshasas, and the thief and the Rákshasa both fled. "So the quarrel between those two, Chirajívin and the king of the crows, will be to our advantage, as the quarrel between the thief and the Rákshasa was to the advantage of the Bráhman." When Vakranása said this, the king of the owls asked his minister Prákárakarna for his opinion, and he answered him; "This Chirajívin should be treated with compassion, as he is in distress, and has applied to us for protection: in old time Sivi offered his flesh for the sake of one who sought his protection. [96] When the king of the owls heard this from Prákárakarna, he asked the advice of his minister Krúralochana, and he gave him the same answer. Then the king of the owls asked a minister named Raktáksha, and he, being a discreet minister, said to him; "King, these ministers have done their best to ruin you by impolitic advice. Those, who know policy, place no confidence in the acts of a hereditary enemy. It is only a fool that, though he sees the fault, is satisfied with insincere flattery." Story of the carpenter and his wife. [97] For once on a time there was a carpenter, who had a wife whom he loved dearly; and the carpenter heard from his neighbours that she was in love with another man; so, wishing to test the fidelity of his wife, he said to her one day: "My dear, I am by command of the king going a long journey to-day, in order to do a job, so give me barley-meal and other things as provision for the journey." She obeyed and gave him provisions, and he went out of the house; and then secretly came back into it, and with a pupil of his hid himself under the bed. As for the wife, she summoned her paramour. And while she was sitting with him on the bed, the wicked woman happened to touch her husband with her foot, and found out that he was there. And a moment after, her paramour, being puzzled, asked her which she loved the best, himself or her husband. When she heard this, the artful and treacherous woman said to that lover of hers; "I love my husband best, for his sake I would surrender my life. As for this unfaithfulness of mine, it is natural to women; they would even eat dirt, if they had no noses." When the carpenter heard this hypocritical speech of the adulteress, he came out from under the bed, and said to his pupil; "You have seen, you are my witness to this; though my wife has betaken herself to this lover, she is still so devoted to me; so I will carry her on my head." When the silly fellow had said this, he immediately took them both up, as they sat on the bed, upon his head, with the help of his pupil, and carried them about. "So an undiscerning blockhead, though he sees a crime committed before his eyes, is satisfied with hypocritical flattery, and makes himself ridiculous. So you must not spare Chirajívin, who is a follower of your enemy, for, if not carefully watched, he might slay your Majesty in a moment, like a disease." When the king of the owls heard Raktáksha say this, he answered; "It was in trying to benefit us that the worthy creature was reduced to this state. So how can we do otherwise than spare his life? Besides, what harm can he do us unaided?" So the king of the owls rejected the advice of Raktáksha, and comforted that crow Chirajívin. Then Chirajívin said to the king of the owls, "What is the use to me of life, now that I am in this state? So have logs of wood brought me, in order that I may enter the fire. And I will ask the fire as a boon, that I may be born again as an owl, in order that I may wreak my vengeance upon this king of the crows." When he said this, Raktáksha laughed and said to him; "By the favour of our master you will be well enough off: what need is there of fire? Moreover you will never become an owl, as long as you have the nature of a crow. Every creature is such as he is made by the Creator." Story of the mouse that was turned into a maiden. [98] For once on a time a hermit found a young mouse, which had escaped from the claws of a kite, and pitying it, made it by the might of his asceticism into a young maiden. And he brought her up in his hermitage; and, when he saw that she had grown up, wishing to give her to a powerful husband, he summoned the sun. And he said to the sun; "Marry this maiden, whom I wish to give in marriage to some mighty one." Then the sun answered, "The cloud is more powerful than I, he obscures me in a moment." When the hermit heard that, he dismissed the sun, and summoned the cloud, and made the same proposal to him. He replied, "The wind is more powerful than I: he drives me into any quarter of the heaven he pleases." When the hermit got this answer, he summoned the wind and made the same proposal to him. And the wind replied, "The mountains are stronger than I, for I cannot move them." When the great hermit heard this, he summoned the Himálaya, and made the same proposal to him. That mountain answered him; "The mice are stronger than I am, for they dig holes in me." Having thus got these answers in succession from those wise divinities, the great rishi summoned a forest mouse, and said to him, "Marry this maiden." Thereupon the mouse said, "Shew me how she is to be got into my hole." Then the hermit said, "It is better that she should return to her condition as a mouse." So he made her a mouse again, and gave her to that male mouse. "So a creature returns to what it was, at the end of a long peregrination, accordingly you, Chirajívin, will never become an owl." When Raktáksha said this to Chirajívin, the latter reflected; "This king has not acted on the advice of this minister, who is skilled in policy. All these others are fools, so my object is gained." While he was thus reflecting, the king of the owls took Chirajívin with him to his own fortress, confiding in his own strength, disregarding the advice of Raktáksha. And Chirajívin, being about his person, and fed with pieces of meat and other delicacies by him, soon acquired as splendid a plumage as a peacock. [99] One day, Chirajívin said to the king of the owls; "King, I will go and encourage that king of the crows and bring him back to his dwelling, in order that you may attack him this night and slay him, and that I may make [100] some return for this favour of yours. But do you all fortify your door with grass and other things, and remain in the cave where your nests are, that they may not attack you by day." When, by saying this, Chirajívin had made the owls retire into their cave, and barricade the door and the approaches to the cave, with grass and leaves, he went back to his own king. And with him he returned, carrying a brand from a pyre, all ablaze, in his beak, and every one of the crows that followed him had a piece of wood hanging down from his beak. And the moment he arrived, he set on fire the door of the cave, in which were those owls, creatures that are blind by day, which had been barricaded with dry grass and other stuff. And every crow, in the same way, threw down at the same time his piece of wood, and so kindled a fire and burnt the owls, king and all. [101] And the king of the crows, having destroyed his enemies with the help of Chirajívin, was highly delighted, and returned with his tribe of crows to his own banyan-tree. Then Chirajívin told the story of how he lived among his enemies, to king Meghavarna, the king of the crows, and said to him; "Your enemy, king, had one good minister named Raktáksha; it is because he was infatuated by confidence, and did not act on that minister's advice, that I was allowed to remain uninjured. Because the villain did not act on his advice, thinking it was groundless, I was able to gain the confidence of the impolitic fool, and to deceive him. It was by a feigned semblance of submission that the snake entrapped and killed the frogs." Story of the snake and the frogs. [102] A certain old snake, being unable to catch frogs easily on the bank of a lake, which was frequented by men, remained there motionless. And when he was there, the frogs asked him, keeping at a safe distance; "Tell us, worthy sir, why do you no longer eat frogs as of old?" When the snake was asked this question by the frogs, he answered, "While I was pursuing a frog, I one day bit a Bráhman's son in the finger by mistake, and he died. And his father by a curse made me a bearer of frogs. So how can I eat you now? On the contrary I will carry you on my back." When the king of the frogs heard that, he was desirous of being carried, and putting aside fear, he came out of the water, and joyfully mounted on the back of the snake. Then the snake, having gained his good-will by carrying him about with his ministers, represented himself as exhausted, and said cunningly; "I cannot go a step further without food, so give me something to eat. How can a servant exist without subsistence?" When the frog-king, who was fond of being carried about, heard this, he said to him; "Eat a few of my followers then." So the snake ate all the frogs in succession, as he pleased, and the king of the frogs put up with it, being blinded with pride at being carried about by the snake. "Thus a fool is deceived by a wise man who worms himself into his confidence. And in the same way I ingratiated myself with your enemies and brought about their ruin. So a king must be skilled in policy and self-restrained; a fool is plundered by his servants and slain by his foes at will. And this goddess of prosperity, O king, is ever treacherous as gambling, fickle as a wave, intoxicating as wine. But she remains as persistently constant to a king, who is self-contained, well-advised, free from vice, and knows differences of character, as if she were tied with a rope. So you must now remain attentive to the words of the wise, and glad at the slaughter of your enemies, rule a realm free from opponents." When the minister Chirajívin said this to the crow-king Meghavarna, the latter loaded him with honours, and ruled as he recommended. When Gomukha had said this, he went on to say to the son of the king of Vatsa; "So you see, king, that even animals are able to rule prosperously by means of discretion, but the indiscreet are always ruined and become the laughing-stock of the public." Story of the foolish servant. For instance a certain rich man had a foolish servant. He, while shampooing him, in his extreme folly gave him a slap on his body, (for he fancied in his conceit that he thoroughly understood the business while he really knew nothing about it,) and so broke his skin. Then he was dismissed by that master and sank into utter despair. "The fact is a man who, while ignorant, thinks himself wise, and rushes impetuously at any business, is ruined; hear another story in proof of it." Story of the two brothers who divided all that they had. [103] In Málava there were two Bráhman brothers, and the wealth they inherited from their father was left jointly between them. And while dividing that wealth, they quarrelled about one having too little and the other having too much, and they made a teacher learned in the Vedas arbitrator, and he said to them; "You must divide every single thing into two halves, in order that you may not quarrel about the inequality of the division." When the two fools heard this, they divided every single thing into two equal parts, house, beds, et cetera; in fact all their wealth, even the cattle. They had only one female slave; her also they cut in two. When the king heard of that, he punished them with the confiscation of all their property. "So fools, following the advice of other fools, lose this world and the next. Accordingly a wise man should not serve fools: he should serve wise men. Discontent also does harm, for listen to this tale." The story of the mendicants who became emaciated from discontent. There were some wandering mendicants, who became fat by being satisfied with what they got by way of alms. Some friends saw this and began to remark to one another; "Well! these mendicants are fat enough, though they do live on what they get by begging." Then one of them said,--"I will shew you a strange sight. I will make these men thin, though they eat the same things as before." When he had said this, he proceeded to invite the mendicants for one day to his house, and gave them to eat the best possible food, containing all the six flavours. [104] And those foolish men, remembering the taste of it, no longer felt any appetite for the food they got as alms; so they became thin. So that man who had entertained them, when he saw these mendicants near, pointed them out to his friends, and said; "Formerly these men were sleek and fat, because they were satisfied with the food which they got as alms, now they have become thin, owing to disgust, being dissatisfied with their alms. Therefore a wise man, who desires happiness, should establish his mind in contentment; for dissatisfaction produces in both worlds intolerable and unceasing grief." When he had given his friends this lesson, they abandoned discontent, the source of crime; to whom is not association with the good improving? "Now king, hear of the fool and the gold." Story of the fool who saw gold in the water. [105] A certain young man went to a tank to drink water. There the fool saw in the water the reflection of a golden-crested bird, that was sitting on a tree. [106] This reflection was of a golden hue, and, thinking it was real gold, he entered the tank to get it, but he could not lay hold of it, as it kept appearing and disappearing in the moving water. But as often as he ascended the bank, he again saw it in the water, and again and again he entered the tank to lay hold of it, and still he got nothing. Then his father saw him and questioned him, and drove away the bird, and then, when he no longer saw the reflection in the water, explained to him the whole thing, and took the foolish fellow home. "Thus foolish people, who do not reflect, are deceived by false suppositions, and become the source of laughter to their enemies, and of sorrow to their friends. Now hear another tale of some great fools." Story of the servants who kept rain off the trunks. [107] The camel of a certain merchant gave way under its load on a journey. He said to his servants, "I will go and buy another camel to carry the half of this camel's load. And you must remain here, and take particular care that, if it clouds over, the rain does not wet the leather of these trunks, which are full of clothes." With these words the merchant left the servants by the side of the camel, and went off, and suddenly a cloud came up and began to discharge rain. Then the fools said; "Our master told us to take care that the rain did not touch the leather of the trunks;" and after they had made this sage reflection, they dragged the clothes out of the trunks and wrapped them round the leather. The consequence was, that the rain spoiled the clothes. Then the merchant returned, and in a rage said to his servants; "You rascals! Talk of water! Why the whole stock of clothes is spoiled by the rain." And they answered him; "You told us to keep the rain off the leather of the trunks. What fault have we committed?" He answered; "I told you that, if the leather got wet, the clothes would be spoiled: I told it you in order to save the clothes, not the leather." Then he placed the load on another camel, and when he returned home, imposed a fine on his servants amounting to the whole of their wealth. "Thus fools, with undiscerning hearts, turn things upside down, and ruin their own interests and those of other people, and give such absurd answers. Now hear in a few words the story of the fool and the cakes." Story of the fool and the cakes. [108] A certain traveller bought eight cakes for a pana; and he ate six of them without being satisfied, but his hunger was satisfied by eating the seventh. Then the blockhead exclaimed; "I have been cheated; why did I not eat this cake, which has allayed the pangs of hunger, first of all? Why did I waste those others, why did I not store them up?" In these words he bewailed the fact that his hunger was only gradually satisfied, and the people laughed at him for his ignorance. Story of the servant who looked after the door. [109] A certain merchant said to his foolish servant; "Take care of the door of my shop, I am going home for a moment. After the merchant had said this, he went away, and the servant took the shop-door on his shoulder and went off to see an actor perform. And as he was returning, his master met him and gave him a scolding. And he answered, "I have taken care of this door as you told me." "So a fool, who attends only to the words of an order and does not understand the meaning, causes detriment. Now hear the wonderful story of the buffalo and the simpletons." Story of the simpletons who ate the buffalo. Some villagers took a buffalo belonging to a certain man, and killed it in an enclosure outside the village, under a banyan-tree, and, dividing it, ate it up. The proprietor of the buffalo went and complained to the king, and he had the villagers, who had eaten the buffalo, brought before him. And the proprietor of the buffalo said before the king, in their presence; "These foolish men took my buffalo under a banyan-tree near the tank, and killed it and ate it before my eyes." Whereupon an old fool among the villagers said, "There is no tank or banyan-tree in our village. He says what is not true: where did we kill his buffalo or eat it?" When the proprietor of the buffalo heard this, he said; "What! is there not a banyan-tree and a tank on the east side of the village? Moreover, you ate my buffalo on the eighth day of the lunar month." When the proprietor of the buffalo said this, the old fool replied, "There is no east side or eighth day in our village." When the king heard this, he laughed, and said, to encourage the fool; "You are a truthful person, you never say anything false, so tell me the truth, did you eat that buffalo or did you not?" When the fool heard that, he said, "I was born three years after my father died, and he taught me skill in speaking. So I never say what is untrue, my sovereign; it is true that we ate his buffalo, but all the rest that he alleges is false." When the king heard this, he and his courtiers could not restrain their laughter; so the king restored the price of the buffalo to the plaintiff, and fined those villagers. "So, fools, in the conceit of their folly, while they deny what need not be denied, reveal what it is their interest to suppress, in order to get themselves believed." Story of the fool who behaved like a Brahmany drake. A certain foolish man had an angry wife, who said to him; "To-morrow I shall go to my father's house, I am invited to a feast. So if you do not bring me a garland of blue lotuses from somewhere or other, you will cease to be my husband, and I shall cease to be your wife." Accordingly he went at night to the king's tank to fetch them. And when he entered it, the guards saw him, and cried out; "Who are you?" He said, "I am a Brahmany drake," but they took him prisoner; and in the morning he was brought before the king, and when questioned, he uttered in his presence the cry of that bird. Then the king himself summoned him and questioned him persistently, and when he told his story, being a merciful monarch, he let the wretched man go unpunished. Story of the physician who tried to cure a hunchback. And a certain Bráhman said to a foolish physician; "Drive in the hump on the back of my son who is deformed." When the physician heard that, he said; "Give me ten panas, I will give you ten times as many, if I do not succeed in this." Having thus made a bet, and having taken the ten panas from the Bráhman, the physician only tortured the hunchback with sweating and other remedies. But he was not able to remove the hump; so he paid down the hundred panas; for who in this world would be able to make straight a hunchbacked man? "So the boastful fashion of promising to accomplish impossibilities only makes a man ridiculous. Therefore a discreet person should not walk in these ways of fools." When the wise prince Naraváhanadatta had heard, at night, these tales of fools from his auspicious-mouthed minister, named Gomukha, he was exceedingly pleased with him. And though he was pining for Saktiyasas, yet, owing to the pleasure he derived from the stories that Gomukha told him, he was enabled to get to sleep, when he went to bed, and slept surrounded by his ministers who had grown up with him. CHAPTER LXIII. The next morning Naraváhanadatta woke up, and thinking on his beloved Saktiyasas, became distracted. And thinking that the rest of the month, until he married her, was as long as an age, he could not find pleasure in anything, as his mind was longing for a new wife. When the king, his father, heard that from the mouth of Gomukha, out of love for him, he sent him his ministers, and Vasantaka was among them. Then, out of respect for them, the prince of Vatsa managed to recover his composure. And the discreet minister Gomukha said to Vasantaka; "Noble Vasantaka, tell some new and romantic tale to delight the mind of the crown-prince. Then the wise Vasantaka began to tell this tale. Story of Yasodhara and Lakshmídhara and the two wives of the water-genius. There was a famous Bráhman in Málava, named Srídhara. And twin sons, of like feature, were born to him. The eldest was named Yasodhara, and his younger brother was Lakshmídhara. And when they grew up, the two brothers set out together for a foreign country to study, with the approval of their father. And as they were travelling along, they reached a great wilderness, without water, without the shade of trees, full of burning sand; and being fatigued with passing through it, and exhausted with heat and thirst, they reached in the evening a shady tree laden with fruit. And they saw, at a little distance from its foot, a lake with cold and clear water, perfumed with the fragrance of lotuses. They bathed in it, and refreshed themselves with drinking the cold water, and sitting down on a slab of rock, rested for a time. And when the sun set, they said their evening prayers, and through fear of wild beasts they climbed up the tree, to spend the night there. And in the beginning of the night, many men rose out of the water of that tank below them, before their eyes. And one of them swept the ground, another painted it, and another strewed on it flowers of five colours. And another brought a golden couch and placed it there, and another spread on it a mattress with a coverlet. Another brought, and placed in a certain spot, under the tree, delicious food and drink, flowers and unguents. Then there arose from the surface of that lake a man wearing a sword, and adorned with heavenly ornaments, surpassing in beauty the god of Love. [110] When he had sat down on the couch, his attendants threw garlands round his neck, and anointed him with unguents, and then they all plunged again into the lake. Then he brought out of his mouth a lady of noble form and modest appearance, wearing auspicious garlands and ornaments, and a second, rich in celestial beauty, resplendent with magnificent robes and ornaments. [111] These were both his wives, but the second was the favourite. Then the first and good wife placed jewelled plates on the table, and handed food in two plates to her husband and her rival. When they had eaten, she also ate; and then her husband reclined on the couch with the rival wife, and went to sleep. And the first wife shampooed his feet, and the second remained awake on the couch. When the Bráhman's sons who were in the tree, saw this, they said to one another, "Who can this be? Let us go down and ask the lady who is shampooing his feet, for all these are immortal beings." Then they got down and approached the first wife, and then the second saw Yasodhara: then she rose up from the couch in her inordinate passion, while her husband was asleep, and approaching that handsome youth, said, "Be my lover." He answered, "Wicked woman, you are to me the wife of another, and I am to you a strange man. Then why do you speak thus?" She answered, "I have had a hundred lovers. Why are you afraid? If you do not believe it, look at these hundred rings, [112] for I have taken one ring from each of them." With these words she took the rings out of the corner of her garment, and shewed them to him. Then Yasodhara said, "I do not care whether you have a hundred or a hundred thousand lovers, to me you are as a mother; I am not a person of that sort." When the wicked woman was repelled by him in this way, she woke up her husband in her wrath, and, pointing to Yasodhara, said with tears, "This scoundrel, while you were asleep, used violence to me." When her husband heard this, he rose up and drew his sword. Then the first and virtuous wife embraced his feet, and said, "Do not commit a crime on false evidence. Hear what I have to say. This wicked woman, when she saw him, rose up from your side, and eagerly importuned him, and the virtuous man did not consent to her proposal." When he repelled her, saying, 'You are to me as a mother,' being unable to endure that, in her anger she woke you up, to make you kill him. And she has already before my eyes had a hundred lovers here on various nights, travellers who were reposing in this tree, and taken their rings from them. But I never told you, not wishing to give rise to unpleasantness. However, to-day I am necessarily compelled to reveal this secret, lest you should be guilty of a crime. Just look at the rings in the corner of her garment, if you do not believe it. And my wifely virtue is of such a kind that I cannot tell my husband what is untrue. In order that you may be convinced of my faithfulness, see this proof of my power." After saying this, she reduced that tree to ashes with an angry look, and restored it more magnificent than it was before with a look of kindness. When her husband saw that, he was at last satisfied and embraced her. And he sent that second wife, the adulteress, about her business, after cutting off her nose, and taking the rings from the corner of her garment. He restrained his anger, when he beheld that student of the scripture, Yasodhara, with his brother, and he said to him despondingly; "Out of jealousy I always keep these wives of mine in my heart. But still I have not been able to keep safe this wicked woman. Who can arrest the lightning? Who can guard a disloyal woman? As for a chaste woman, she is guarded by her own modesty alone, and being guarded by it, she guards [113] her husband in both worlds, as I have to-day been guarded by this woman, whose patience is more admirable even than her power of cursing. By her kindness I have got rid of an unfaithful wife, and avoided the awful crime of killing a virtuous Bráhman." When he had said this, he made Yasodhara sit down, and said to him, "Tell me whence you come and whither you are going." Then Yasodhara told him his history, and having gained his confidence, said to him out of curiosity, "Noble sir, if it is not a secret, tell me now, who you are, and why, though you possess such luxury, you dwell in the water." When the man who lived in the water heard this, he said, "Hear! I will tell you." And he began to tell his history in the following words. Story of the water-genius in his previous birth. There is a region in the south of the Himálaya, called Kasmíra; which Providence seems to have created in order to prevent mortals from hankering after Heaven; where Siva and Vishnu, as self-existent deities, inhabit a hundred shrines, forgetting their happy homes in Kailása and Svetadvípa; which is laved by the waters of the Vitastá, and full of heroes and sages, and proof against treacherous crimes and enemies, though powerful. There I was born in my former life, as an ordinary villager of the Bráhman caste, with two wives, and my name was Bhavasarman. There I once struck up a friendship with some Buddhist mendicants, and undertook the vow, called the fast Uposhana, prescribed in their scriptures. And when this vow was almost completed, one of my wives wickedly came and slept in my bed. And in the fourth watch of the night, bewildered with sleep, I broke my vow. But as it fell only a little short of completion, I have been born as a water-genius, and these two wives of mine have been born as my present wives here. That wicked woman was born as that unfaithful wife, the second as this faithful one. So great was the power of my vow, though it was rendered imperfect, that I remember my former birth, and enjoy such luxuries every night. If I had not rendered my vow imperfect, I should never have been born as what I am. When he had told his story in these words, he honoured those two brothers as guests, with delicious food and heavenly garments. Then his faithful wife, having heard of her former life, knelt on the ground, and looking at the moon, uttered this prayer, "O guardians of the world, if I am in truth virtuous and devoted to my husband, may this husband of mine be at once delivered from the necessity of dwelling in the water and go to heaven." The moment she had said this, a chariot descended from heaven, and the husband and wife ascended it and went to heaven. Nothing in the three worlds is unattainable by really chaste women. And the two Bráhmans, when they saw that, were greatly astonished. And Yasodhara and Lakshmídhara, after spending the rest of the night there, set out in the morning. And in the evening they reached the foot of a tree in a lonely wilderness. And while they were longing to get water, they heard this voice from the tree, "Wait a little, Bráhmans! I will entertain you to-day with a bath and food, for you are come to my house." Then the voice ceased, and there sprang up there a tank of water, and meats and drinks of every kind were provided on its bank. The two Bráhman youths said with astonishment to one another,--"What does this mean?" And after bathing in the tank, they ate and drank. Then they said the evening prayer and remained under the tree, and in the meanwhile a handsome man appeared from it. They saluted him, and he welcomed them, and he sat down. Thereupon the two Bráhman youths asked him who he was. Then the man said-- Story of the Bráhman who became a Yaksha. Long ago I was a Bráhman in distress, and when I was in this condition, I happened to make friends with some Buddhist ascetics. But while I was performing the vow called Uposhana, which they had taught me, a wicked man made me take food in the evening by force. That made my vow incomplete, so I was born as a Guhyaka; if I had only completed it, I should have been born as a god in heaven. "So I have told you my story, but now do you two tell me, who you are, and why you have come to this desert." When Yasodhara heard this, he told him their story. Thereupon the Yaksha went on to say; "If this is the case, I will by my own power bestow on you the sciences. Go home with a knowledge of them. What is the use of roaming about in foreign countries?" When he had said this, he bestowed on them the sciences, and by his power they immediately possessed them. Then the Yaksha said to them, "Now I entreat you to give me a fee as your instructor. You must perform, on my behalf, this Uposhana vow, which involves the speaking of the truth, the observing of strict chastity, the circumambulating the images of the gods with the right side turned towards them, the eating only at the time when Buddhist mendicants do, restraint of the mind, and patience. You must perform this for one night, and bestow the fruit of it on me, in order that I may obtain that divinity, which is the proper fruit of my vow, when completely performed." When the Yaksha said this, they bowed before him and granted his request, and he disappeared in that very same tree. And the two brothers, delighted at having accomplished their object without any toil, after they had passed the night, returned to their own home. There they told their adventures and delighted their parents, and performed that vow of fasting for the benefit of the Yaksha. Then that Yaksha, who taught them, appeared in a sky-chariot, and said to them; "Through your kindness I have ceased to be a Yaksha and have become a god. So now you must perform this vow for your own advantage, in order that at your death you may attain divinity. And in the meanwhile I give you a boon, by which you will have inexhaustible wealth." When the deity, who roamed about at will, had said this, he went to heaven in his chariot. Then the two brothers, Yasodhara and Lakshmídhara, lived happily, having performed that vow, and having obtained wealth and knowledge. "So you see that, if men are addicted to righteousness, and do not, even in emergencies, desert their principles, even the gods protect them and cause them to attain their objects." Naraváhanadatta, while longing for his beloved Saktiyasas, was much delighted with this marvellous story told by Vasantaka; but having been summoned by his father at the dinner hour, he went to his palace with his ministers. There he took the requisite refreshment, and returned to his palace, with Gomukha and his other ministers. Then Gomukha, in order to amuse him, again said,--"Listen, prince, I will tell you another string of tales." Story of the monkey and the porpoise. [114] There lived in a forest of udumbaras, on the shore of the sea, a king of monkeys, named Valímukha, who had strayed from his troop. While he was eating an udumbara fruit, it fell from his hand and was devoured by a porpoise that lived in the water of the sea. The porpoise, delighted at the taste of the fruit, uttered a melodious sound, which pleased the monkey so much, that he threw him many more fruits. And so the monkey went on throwing fruits, [115] and the porpoise went on making a melodious sound, until a friendship sprang up between them. So every day the porpoise spent the day in the water near the monkey, who remained on the bank, and in the evening he went home. Then the wife of the porpoise came to learn the facts, and as she did not approve of the friendship between the monkey and her husband, which caused the latter to be absent all day, she pretended to be ill. Then the porpoise was afflicted, and asked his wife again and again what was the nature of her sickness, and what would cure it. Though he importuned her persistently, she would give no answer, but at last a female confidante of hers said to him: "Although you will not do it, and she does not wish you to do it, still I must speak. How can a wise person conceal sorrow from friends? A violent disease has seized your wife, of such a kind that it cannot be cured without soup made of the lotus-like heart of a monkey." [116] When the porpoise heard this from his wife's confidante, he reflected;--"Alas! how shall I obtain the lotus-like heart of a monkey? Is it right for me to plot treachery against the monkey, who is my friend? On the other hand how else can I cure my wife, whom I love more than my life?" When the porpoise had thus reflected, he said to his wife; "I will bring you a whole monkey, my dear, do not be unhappy." When he had said this, he went to his friend the monkey, and said to him, after he had got into conversation; "Up to this day you have never seen my home and my wife; so come, let us go and rest there one day. Friendship is but hollow, when friends do not go without ceremony and eat at one another's houses, and introduce their wives to one another." With these words the porpoise beguiled the monkey, and induced him to come down into the water, and took him on his back and set out. And as he was going along, the monkey saw that he was troubled and confused, and said, "My friend, you seem to be altered to-day." And when he went on persistently enquiring the reason, the stupid porpoise, thinking that the ape was in his power, said to him; "The fact is, my wife is ill, and she has been asking me for the heart of a monkey to be used as a remedy; that is why I am in low spirits to-day." When the wise monkey heard this speech of his, he reflected, "Ah! This is why the villain has brought me here! Alas! this fellow is overpowered by infatuation for a female, and is ready to plot treachery against his friend. Will not a person possessed by a demon eat his own flesh with his teeth?" After the monkey had thus reflected, he said to the porpoise; "If this is the case, why did you not inform me of this before, my friend? I will go and get my heart for your wife. For I have at present left it on the udumbara-tree on which I live. [117] When the silly porpoise heard this, he was sorry and he said; "Then bring it, my friend, from the udumbara-tree." And thereupon the porpoise took him back to the shore of the sea. When he got there, he bounded up the bank, as if he had just escaped from the grasp of death, and climbing up to the top of the tree, said to that porpoise, "Off with you, you fool! Does any animal keep his heart outside his body? However, by this artifice I have saved my life, and I will not return to you. Have you not heard, my friend, the story of the ass?" Story of the sick lion, the jackal, and the ass. [118] There lived in a certain forest a lion, who had a jackal for a minister. A certain king, who had gone to hunt, once found him, and wounded him so sorely with his weapons, that he with difficulty escaped to his den alive. When the king was gone, the lion still remained in the den, and his minister, the jackal, who lived on his leavings, being exhausted for want of food, said to him; "My lord, why do you not go out and seek for food to the best of your ability, for your own body is being famished as well as your attendants?" When the jackal said this to the lion, he answered; "My friend, I am exhausted with wounds, and I cannot roam about outside my den. If I could get the heart and ears of a donkey to eat, my wounds would heal, and I should recover my former health. So go and bring me a donkey quickly from somewhere or other." The jackal agreed to do so and sallied out. As he was wandering about, he found a washerman's ass in a solitary place, and he went up to him, and said in a friendly way; "Why are you so exhausted?" The donkey answered, "I am reduced by perpetually carrying this washerman's load." The jackal said, "Why do you endure all this toil? Come with me and I will take you to a forest as delightful as Heaven, where you may grow fat in the society of she-asses." When the donkey, who was longing for enjoyment, heard this, he went to the forest, in which that lion ranged, in the company of that jackal. And when the lion saw him, being weak from impaired vitality, he only gave him a blow with his paw behind, and the donkey, being wounded by the blow, was terrified and fled immediately, and did not come near the lion again, and the lion fell down confused and bewildered. And then the lion, not having accomplished his object, hastily returned to his den. Then the jackal, his minister, said to him reproachfully; "My lord, if you could not kill this miserable donkey, what chance is there of your killing deer and other animals?" Then the lion said to him, "If you know how, bring that donkey again. I will be ready and kill him." When the lion had despatched the jackal with these words, he went to the donkey and said; "Why did you run away, sir? And the donkey answered, "I received a blow from some creature." Then the jackal laughed and said, "You must have experienced a delusion. There is no such creature there, for I, weak as I am, dwell there, in safety. So come along with me to that forest, where pleasure is without restraint." [119] When he said this, the donkey was deluded, and returned to the forest. And as soon as the lion saw him, he came out of his den, and springing on him from behind, tore him with his claws and killed him. And the lion, after he had divided the donkey, placed the jackal to guard it, and being fatigued, went away to bathe. And in the meanwhile the deceitful jackal devoured the heart and ears of that donkey, to gratify his appetite. The lion, after bathing, came back, and perceiving the donkey in this condition, asked the jackal where its ears and heart were. The jackal answered him; "The creature never possessed ears or a heart,--otherwise how could he have returned when he had once escaped?" When the lion heard that, he believed it, and ate his flesh, and the jackal devoured what remained over. When the ape had told this tale, he said again to the porpoise; "I will not come again, why should I behave like the jackass." When the porpoise heard this from the monkey, he returned home, grieving that he had through his folly failed to execute his wife's commission, while he had lost a friend. But his wife recovered her former tranquillity, on account of the termination of her husband's friendship with the ape. And the ape lived happily on the shore of the sea. "So a wise person should place no confidence in a wicked person. How can he, who confides in a wicked person or a black cobra, enjoy prosperity?" When Gomukha had told this story, he again said to Naraváhanadatta, to amuse him; "Now hear in succession about the following ridiculous fools. Hear first about the fool who rewarded the minstrel." Story of the fool who gave a verbal reward to the musician. [120] A certain musician once gave great pleasure to a rich man, by singing and playing before him. He thereupon called his treasurer, and said in the hearing of the musician, "Give this man two thousand panas." The treasurer said, "I will do so," and went out. Then the minstrel went and asked him for those panas. But the treasurer, who had an understanding with his master, refused to give them. Then the musician came and asked the rich man for the panas, but he said; "What did you give me, that I should make you a return? You gave a short-lived pleasure to my ears by playing on the lyre, and I gave a short-lived pleasure to your ears by promising you money." When the musician heard that, he despaired of his payment, laughed, and went home. "Would not that speech of the miser's make even a stone laugh? And now, prince, hear the story of the two foolish pupils." Story of the teacher and his two jealous pupils. [121] A certain teacher had two pupils who were jealous of one another. And one of those pupils washed and anointed every day the right foot of his instructor, and the other did the same to the left foot. Now it happened that one day the pupil, whose business it was to anoint the right foot, had been sent to the village, so the teacher said to the second pupil, whose business it was to anoint the left foot,--"To-day you must wash and anoint my right foot also." When the foolish pupil received this order, he coolly said to his teacher; "I cannot anoint this foot that belongs to my rival." When he said this, the teacher insisted. Then that pupil, who was the very opposite of a good pupil, took hold of his teacher's foot in a passion, and exerting great force, broke it. Then the teacher uttered a cry of pain, and the other pupils came in and beat that wicked pupil, but he was rescued from them by that teacher, who felt sorry for him. The next day, the other pupil came back from the village, and when he saw the injury that had been done to his teacher's foot, he asked the history of it, and then he was inflamed with rage, and he said, "Why should I not break the foot that belongs to that enemy of mine?" So he laid hold of the teacher's second leg, and broke it. Then the others began to beat that wicked pupil, but the teacher, both of whose legs were broken, in compassion begged him off too. Then those two pupils departed, laughed to scorn by the whole country, but their teacher, who deserved so much credit for his patient temper, gradually got well. Thus foolish attendants, by quarrelling with one another, ruin their master's interests, and do not reap any advantage for themselves. Hear the story of the two-headed serpent. Story of the snake with two heads. [122] A certain snake had two heads, one in the usual place and one in his tail. But the head, that he had in his tail, was blind, the head, that was in the usual place, was furnished with eyes. And there was a quarrel between them, each saying that it was the principal head. Now the serpent usually roamed about with his real head foremost. But once on a time the head in the tail caught hold of a piece of wood, and fastening firmly round it, prevented that snake from going on. The consequence was that the snake considered this head very powerful, as it had vanquished the head in front. And so the snake roamed about with his blind head foremost, and in a hole he fell into fire, owing to his not being able to see the way, and so he was burnt. [123] Story of the fool who was nearly choked with rice. "So those foolish people, many in number, who are quite at home in a small accomplishment, through their attachment to this unimportant accomplishment, are brought to ruin." "Hear now about the fool who ate the grains of rice." A certain foolish person came for the first time to his father-in-law's house, and there he saw some white grains of rice, which his mother-in-law had put down to be cooked, and he put a handful of them into his mouth, meaning to eat them. And his mother-in-law came in that very moment. Then the foolish man was so ashamed, that he could not swallow the grains of rice, nor bring them up. And his mother-in law, seeing that his throat was swollen and distended, and that he was speechless, was afraid that he was ill, and summoned her husband. And he, when he saw his state, quickly brought the physician, and the physician, fearing that there was an internal tumour, seized the head of that fool and opened his jaw. [124] Then the grains of rice came out, and all those present laughed. "Thus a fool does an unseemly act, and does not know how to conceal it." Story of the boys that milked the donkey. [125] Certain foolish boys, having observed the process of milking in the case of cows, got a donkey, and having surrounded it, proceeded to milk it vigorously. One milked and another held the milk-pail, and there was great emulation among them, as to who should first drink the milk. And yet they did not obtain milk, though they laboured hard. "The fact is, prince, a fool, who spends his labour on a chimera, makes himself ridiculous." Story of the foolish boy that went to the village for nothing. There was a certain foolish son of a Bráhman, and his father said to him one evening, "My son, you must go to the village early to-morrow." Having heard this, he set out in the morning, without asking his father what he was to do, and went to the village without any object, and came back in the evening fatigued. He said to his father, "I have been to the village." "Yes, but you have not done any good by it," answered his father. "So a fool, who acts without an object, becomes the laughing-stock of people generally; he suffers fatigue, but does not do any good." When the son of the king of Vatsa had heard from Gomukha, his chief minister, this series of tales, rich in instruction, and had declared that he was longing to obtain Saktiyasas, and had perceived that the night was far spent, he closed his eyes in sleep, and reposed surrounded by his ministers. CHAPTER LXIV. Then, the next evening, as Naraváhanadatta was again in his private apartment, longing for union with his beloved, at his request Gomukha told the following series of tales to amuse him. Story of the Bráhman and the mungoose. [126] There was in a certain village a Bráhman, named Devasarman; and he had a wife of equally high birth, named Yajnadattá. And she became pregnant, and in time gave birth to a son, and the Bráhman, though poor, thought he had obtained a treasure in him. And when she had given birth to the child, the Bráhman's wife went to the river to bathe, but Devasarman remained in the house, taking care of his infant son. In the meanwhile a maid came from the womens' apartments of the palace to summon that Bráhman, who lived on presents received for performing inauguratory ceremonies. Then he, eager for a fee, went off to the palace, leaving a mungoose, which he had brought up from its birth, to guard his child. After he had gone, a snake suddenly came near the child, and the mungoose, seeing it, killed it out of love for his master. Then the mungoose saw Devasarman returning at a distance, and delighted, ran out to meet him, all stained with the blood of the snake. And Devasarman, when he saw its appearance, felt certain that it had killed his young child, and, in his agitation killed it with a stone. But when he went into the house, and saw the snake killed by the mungoose, and his boy alive, he repented of what he had done. And when his wife returned and heard what had happened, she reproached him, saying, "Why did you inconsiderately kill the mungoose, which had done you a good turn?" "Therefore a wise man, prince, should never do anything rashly. For a person who acts rashly is destroyed in both worlds. And one who does anything contrary to the prescribed method, obtains a result which is the opposite of that desired." Story of the fool that was his own doctor. For instance, there was a man suffering from flatulence. And once on a time the doctor gave him a medicine, to be used as a clyster, and said to him, "Go to your house, and bruise this, and wait till I come." The physician, after giving this order, delayed a little, and in the meanwhile the fool, having reduced the drug to powder, mixed it with water and drank it. That made him very ill, and when the doctor came, he had to give him an emetic, and with difficulty brought him round, when he was at the point of death. And he scolded his patient, saying to him, "A clyster is not meant to be drunk, but must be administered in the proper way. Why did you not wait for me?" "So an action, useful in itself, if done contrary to rule, has bad effects. Therefore a wise man should do nothing contrary to rule. And the man, who acts without consideration, does what is wrong, and immediately incurs reproach." Story of the fool who mistook hermits for monkeys. For instance, there was in a certain place a foolish man. He was once going to a foreign country, accompanied by his son, and when the caravan encamped in the forest, the boy entered the wood to amuse himself. There he was scratched by monkeys, and with difficulty escaped with life, and when his father asked him what had happened, the silly boy, not knowing what monkeys were, said; "I was scratched in this wood by some hairy creatures that live on fruits." When the father heard it, he drew his sword in a rage, and went to that wood. And seeing some ascetics with long matted hair, picking fruits there, he ran towards them, saying to himself, "Those hairy rascals injured my son." But a certain traveller there prevented him from killing them, by saying; "I saw some monkeys scratch your son; do not kill the hermits." So by good luck he was saved from committing a crime, and returned to the caravan. "So a wise man should never act without reflection. What is ever likely to go wrong with a man who reflects? But the thoughtless are always ruined and made the objects of public ridicule." Story of the fool who found a purse. For instance, a certain poor man, going on a journey, found a bag of gold, that had been dropped by the head of a caravan. The fool, the moment he found it, instead of going away, stood still where he was, and began to count the gold. In the meanwhile the merchant, who was on horseback, discovered his loss, and galloping back, he saw the bag of gold in the poor man's possession, and took it away from him. So he lost his wealth as soon as he got it, and went on his way sorrowful, with his face fixed on the ground. "Fools lose wealth as soon as they get it." Story of the fool who looked for the moon. A certain foolish man, who wished to see the new moon, was told by a man who saw it, to look in the direction of his finger. He averted his eyes from the sky, and stood staring at his friend's finger, and so did not see the new moon, but saw the people laughing at him. "Wisdom accomplishes the impossible, hear a story in proof of it." Story of the woman who escaped from the monkey and the cowherd. A certain woman set out alone to go to another village. And on the way a monkey suddenly came and tried to lay hold of her, but she avoided it by going to a tree and dodging round it. The foolish monkey threw its arms round the tree, and she laid hold of its arms with her hands, and pressed them against the tree. The monkey, which was held tight, became furious, but at that moment the woman saw a cowherd coming that way, and said to him; "Sir, hold this ape by the arms a moment, until I can arrange my dress and hair, which are disordered." He said, "I will do so, if you promise to grant me your love," and she consented. And he held the monkey. Then she drew his dagger and killed the monkey, and said to the cowherd, "Come to a lonely spot," and so took him a long distance. At last they fell in with some travellers, so she left him and went with them to the village that she wished to reach, having avoided outrage by her wisdom. "So you see that wisdom is in this world the principal support of men; the man who is poor in wealth lives, but the man who is poor in intellect does not live. Now hear, prince, this romantic wonderful tale." Story of the two thieves, Ghata and Karpara. [127] There were in a certain city two thieves, named Ghata and Karpara. One night Karpara left Ghata outside the palace, and breaking through the wall, entered the bedchamber of the princess. And the princess, who could not sleep, saw him there in a corner, and suddenly falling in love with him, called him to her. And she gave him wealth, and said to him; "I will give you much more if you come again." Then Karpara went out, and told Ghata what had happened, and gave him the wealth, and having thus got hold of the king's property, sent him home. But he himself again entered the women's apartments of the palace; who, that is attracted by love and covetousness, thinks of death? There he remained with the princess, and bewildered with love and wine, he fell asleep, and did not observe that the night was at an end. And in the morning the guards of the women's apartments entered, and made him prisoner, and informed the king, and he in his anger ordered him to be put to death. "While he was being led to the place of execution, his friend Ghata came to look for him, as he had not returned in the course of the night. Then Karpara saw Ghata, and made a sign to him that he was to carry off and take care of the princess. And he answered by a sign that he would do so. Then Karpara was led away by the executioners, and being at their mercy, was quickly hanged up upon a tree, and so executed. Then Ghata went home, sorrowing for his friend, and as soon as night arrived, he dug a mine and entered the apartment of the princess. Seeing her in fetters there alone, he went up to her and said; "I am the friend of Karpara, who was to-day put to death on account of you. And out of love for him I am come here to carry you off, so come along, before your father does you an injury." Thereupon she consented joyfully, and he removed her bonds. Then he went out with her, who at once committed herself to his care, by the underground passage he had made, and returned to his own house. And next morning the king heard that his own daughter had been carried off by some one, who had dug a secret mine, and that king thought to himself, "Undoubtedly that wicked man whom I punished has some audacious friend, who has carried off my daughter in this way." So he set his servants to watch the body of Karpara, and he said to them, "You must arrest any one who may come here lamenting, to burn the corpse and perform the other rites, and so I shall recover that wicked girl who has disgraced her family." When those guards had received this order from the king, they said, "We will do so," and remained continually watching the corpse of Karpara. Then Ghata made enquiries, and found out what was going on, and said to the princess; "My dear, my comrade Karpara was a very dear friend to me, and by means of him I gained you and all these valuable jewels; so until I have paid to him the debt of friendship, I cannot rest in peace. So I will go and see his corpse, and by a device of mine manage to lament over it, and I will in due course burn the body, and scatter the bones in a holy place. And do not be afraid, I am not reckless like Karpara." After he had said this to her, he immediately assumed the appearance of a Pásupata ascetic, and taking boiled rice and milk in a pot, he went near the corpse of Karpara, as if he were a person passing that way casually, and when he got near it, he slipped, and let fall from his hand and broke that pot of milk and rice, and began lamenting, "O Karpara full of sweetness," [128] and so on. And the guards thought that he was grieving for his pot full of food, that he had got by begging. And immediately he went home and told that to the princess. And the next day he made a servant, dressed as a bride, go in front of him, and he had another behind him, carrying a vessel full of sweetmeats, in which the juice of the Dhattúra had been infused. And he himself assumed the appearance of a drunken villager, and so in the evening he came reeling along past those guards, who were watching the body of Karpara. They said to him, "Who are you, friend, and who is this lady, and where are you going?" Then the cunning fellow answered them with stuttering accents, "I am a villager; this is my wife; I am going to the house of my father-in-law; and I am taking for him this complimentary present of sweetmeats. But you have now become my friends by speaking to me, so I will take only half of the sweetmeats there; take the other half for yourselves." Saying this, he gave a sweetmeat to each of the guards. And they received them, laughing, and all of them partook of them. Accordingly Ghata, having stupefied the guards with Dhattúra, at night brought fuel [129] and burnt the body of Karpara. The next morning, after he had departed, the king hearing of it, removed those guards who had been stupefied, and placed others there, and said; "You must guard these bones, and you must arrest whoever attempts to take them away, and you must not accept food from any outsider." When the guards were thus instructed by the king, they remained on the lookout day and night, and Ghata heard of it. Then he, being acquainted with the operation of a bewildering charm granted him by Durgá, made a wandering mendicant his friend, in order to make them repose confidence in him. And he went there with that wandering mendicant, who was muttering spells, and bewildered those guards, and recovered the bones of Karpara. And after throwing them into the Ganges, he came and related what he had done, and lived happily with the princess, accompanied by the mendicant. But the king, hearing that the bones had been carried off, and the men guarding them stupefied, thought that the whole exploit, beginning with the carrying off of his daughter, was the doing of a magician. And he had the following proclamation made in his city; "If that magician, who carried off my daughter, and performed the other exploits connected with that feat, will reveal himself, I will give him half my kingdom." When Ghata heard this, he wished to reveal himself, but the princess dissuaded him, saying, "Do not do so, you cannot repose any confidence in this king, who treacherously puts people to death." [130] Then, for fear that, if he remained there, the truth might come out, he set out for another country with the princess and the mendicant. And on the way the princess said secretly to the mendicant, "The other one of these thieves seduced me, and this one made me fall from my high rank. The other thief is dead, as for this, Ghata, I do not love him, you are my darling." When she had said this, she united herself to the mendicant, and killed Ghata in the dead of night. Then, as she was journeying along with that mendicant, the wicked woman fell in with a merchant on the way, whose name was Dhanadeva. So she said, "Who is this skull-bearer? You are my darling," and she left that mendicant, while he was asleep, and went off with that merchant. And in the morning the mendicant woke up, and reflected, "There is no love in women, and no courtesy free from fickleness, for, after lulling me into security, the wicked woman has gone off, and robbed me too. However, I ought perhaps to consider myself lucky, that I have not been killed like Ghata." After these reflections, the mendicant returned to his own country. Story of Dhanadeva's wife. And the princess, travelling on with the merchant, reached his country. And when Dhanadeva arrived there, he said to himself; "Why should I rashly introduce this unchaste woman into my house? So, as it was evening, he went into the house of an old woman in that place, with the princess. And at night he asked that old woman, who did not recognize him, "Mother, do you know any tidings about the family of Dhanadeva?" When the old woman heard that, she said, "What tidings is there except that his wife is always ready to take a new lover. For a basket, covered with leather, is let down every night from the window here, and whoever enters it, is drawn up into the house, and is dismissed in the same way at the end of the night. And the woman is always stupefied with drink, so that she is absolutely void of discernment. And this state of hers has become well-known in the whole city. And though her husband has been long away, he has not yet returned." When Dhanadeva heard this speech of the old woman's, he went out that moment on some pretext, and repaired to his own house, being full of inward grief and uncertainty. And seeing a basket let down by the female servants with ropes, he entered it, and they pulled up him into the house. And his wife, who was stupefied with drink, embraced him most affectionately, without knowing who he was. But he was quite cast down at seeing her degradation. And thereupon she fell into a drunken sleep. And at the end of the night, the female servants let him down again quickly from the window, in the basket suspended with ropes. And the merchant reflected in his grief, "Enough of the folly of being a family man, for women in a house are a snare! It is always this story with them, so a life in the forest is much to be preferred." Having formed this resolve, Dhanadeva abandoned the princess into the bargain, and set out for a distant forest. And on the way he met, and struck up a friendship with, a young Bráhman, named Rudrasoma, who had lately returned from a long absence abroad. When he told him his story, the Bráhman became anxious about his own wife; and so he arrived in the company of that merchant at his own village in the evening. Story of the wife of the Bráhman Rudrasoma. And when he arrived there, he saw a cowherd, on the bank of the river, near his house, singing with joy, like one beside himself. So he said to him in joke, "Cowherd, is any young woman in love with you, that you sing thus in your rapture, counting the world as stubble?" "When the cowherd heard that, he laughed and said, "I have a great secret. [131] The head of this village, a Bráhman, named Rudrasoma, has been long away, and I visit his wife every night; her maid introduces me into the house dressed as a woman." When Rudrasoma heard this, he restrained his anger, and wishing to find out the truth, he said to the cowherd; "If such kindness is shewn to guests here, give me this dress of yours, and let me go there to-night: I feel great curiosity about it." The cowherd said, "Do so, take this black rug of mine, and this stick, and remain here until her maid comes. And she will take you for me, and will give you a female dress, and invite you to come, so go there boldly at night, and I will take repose this night." When the cowherd said this, the Bráhman Rudrasoma took from him the stick and the rug, and stood there, personating him. And the cowherd stood at a little distance, with that merchant Dhanadeva, and then the maid came. She walked silently up to him in the darkness, and wrapped him up in a woman's dress, and said to him, "Come along," and so took him off to his wife, thinking that he was the cowherd. When his wife saw Rudrasoma, she sprang up and embraced him, supposing that he was the cowherd, and then Rudrasoma thought to himself; "Alas! wicked women fall in love with a base man, if only he is near them, for this vicious wife of mine has fallen in love with a cowherd, merely because be is near at hand." Then he made some excuse with faltering voice, and went, disgusted in mind, to Dhanadeva. And after he had told his adventure in his own house, he said to that merchant; "I too will go with you to the forest; perish my family!" So Rudrasoma and the merchant Dhanadeva set out together for the forest. Story of the wife of Sasin. And on the way a friend of Dhanadeva's, named Sasin, joined them. And in the course of conversation they told him their circumstances. And when Sasin heard that, being a jealous man, and having just returned from a long absence in a foreign land, he became anxious about his wife, though he had locked her up in a cellar. And Sasin, travelling along with them, came near his own house in the evening, and was desirous of entertaining them. But he saw there a man singing in an amorous mood, who had an evil smell, and whose hands and feet were eaten away with leprosy. And in his astonishment, he asked him; "Who are you, sir, that you are so cheerful?" And the leper said to him, "I am the god of love." Sasin answered, "There can be no mistake about that. The splendour of your beauty is sufficient evidence for your being the god of love." Thereupon the leper continued, "Listen, I will tell you something. A rogue here, named Sasin, being jealous of his wife, locked her up in a cellar with one servant to attend on her, and went to a foreign land. But that wife of his happened to see me here, and immediately surrendered herself to me, her heart being drawn towards me by love. And I spend every night with her, for the maid takes me on her back and carries me in. So tell me if I am not the god of love. Who, that was the favoured lover of the beautiful wife of Sasin, could care for other women?" When Sasin heard this speech of the leper's, he suppressed his grief, intolerable as a hurricane, and wishing to discover the truth, he said to the leper, "In truth you are the god of love, so I have a boon to crave of your godship. I feel great curiosity about this lady from your description of her, so I will go there this very night disguised as yourself. Be propitious to your suppliant: you will lose but little, as you can attain this object every day." When Sasin made this request, the leper said to him; "So be it! take this dress of mine and give me yours, and remain covering up your hands and feet with your clothes, as you see me do, until her maid comes, which will be as soon as it becomes dark. And she will mistake you for me, and put you on her back, and you must submit to go there in that fashion, for I always have to go in that way, having lost the use of my hands and feet from leprosy." Thereupon Sasin put on the leper's dress and remained there, but the leper and Sasin's two companions remained a little way off. Then Sasin's wife's maid came, and supposing that he was the leper, as he had his dress on, said, "Come along," and took him up on her back. And so she took him at night into that cellar to his wife, who was expecting her paramour the leper. Then Sasin made out for certain that it was his wife, who was lamenting there in the darkness, by feeling her limbs, and he became an ascetic on the spot. And when she was asleep, he went out unobserved, and made his way to Dhanadeva and Rudrasoma. And he told them his experiences, and said in his grief, "Alas! women are like torrents that flow in a ravine, they are ever tending downwards, capricious, beautiful at a distance, prone to turbidness, and so they are as difficult to guard as such rivers are to drink, and thus my wife, though kept in a cellar, has run after a leper. So for me also the forest is the best thing. Out on family life!" And so he spent the night in the company of the merchant and the Bráhman, whose affliction was the same as his. And next morning they all set out together for the forest, and at evening they reached a tree by the roadside, with a tank at its foot. And after they had eaten and drunk, they ascended the tree to sleep, and while they were there, they saw a traveller come and lie down underneath the tree. Story of the snake-god and his wife. And soon they saw another man arise from the tank, and he brought out of his mouth a couch and a lady. Then he lay down on the couch beside that wife of his, and went to sleep, and the moment she saw it, she went and embraced the traveller. And he asked her who they were, and she answered; "This is a snake-god, and I am his wife, a daughter of the snake race. Do not fear, I have had ninety-nine lovers among travellers, and you make the hundredth." But, while she was saying this, it happened that the snake-god woke up, and saw them. And he discharged fire from his mouth, and reduced them both to ashes. When the snake-god had gone, the three friends said to one another, "If it is impossible to guard one's wife by enclosing her in one's own body, what chance is there of keeping her safe in a house? Out on them all!" So they spent the night in contentment, and next morning went on to the forest. There they became completely chastened in mind, with hearts quieted by practising the four meditations, [132] which were not interfered with by their friendship, and they became gentle to all creatures, and attained perfection in contemplation, which produces unequalled absolute beatification; and all three in due course destroyed the inborn darkness of their souls, and became liberated from the necessity of future births. But their wicked wives fell into a miserable state by the ripening of their own sin, and were soon ruined, losing both this and the next world. "So attachment to women, the result of infatuation, produces misery to all men. But indifference to them produces in the discerning emancipation from the bonds of existence." When the prince, who was longing for union with Saktiyasas, had patiently listened to this diverting tale, told by his minister Gomukha, he again went to sleep. NOTE ON THE STORY OF GHATA AND KARPARA. The portion of the story of "the Shifty lad," which so nearly resembles the story of Ghata and Karpara, runs as follows: The shifty lad remarks to his master the wright, that he might get plenty from the king's store-house which was near at hand, if only he would break into it. The two eventually rob it together. "But the king's people missed the butter and cheese and the other things that had been taken out of the store-house, and they told the king how it had happened. The king took the advice of the Seanagal about the best way of catching the thieves, and the counsel that he gave them was, that they should set a hogshead of soft pitch under the hole where they were coming in. That was done, and the next day the shifty lad and his master went to break into the king's store-house." The consequence was that the wright was caught in the pitch. Thereupon the shifty lad cut off his head, which he carried home and buried in the garden. When the king's people came into the store-house, they found a body, without a head and they could not make out whose it was. By the advice of the Seanagal the king had the trunk carried about from town to town by the soldiers on the points of spears. They were directed to observe if any one cried out on seeing it. When they were going past the house of the wright, the wright's wife made a tortured scream, and swift the shifty lad cut himself with an adze, and he kept saying to the wright's wife, "It is not as bad as thou thinkest." He then tells the soldier that she is afraid of blood, and therefore the soldier supposed that he was the wright and she his wife. The king had the body hung up in an open place, and set soldiers to watch if any should attempt to take it away, or show pity or grief for it. The shifty lad drives a horse past with a keg of whisky on each side, and pretends to be hiding it from the soldiers. They pursue him, capture the whisky, get dead drunk, and the shifty lad carries off and buries the wright's body. The king now lets loose a pig to dig up the body. The soldiers follow the pig, but the wright's widow entertains them. Meanwhile the shifty lad kills the pig and buries it. The soldiers are then ordered to live at free quarters among the people, and wherever they get pig's flesh, unless the people could explain how they came by it, to make a report to the king. But the shifty lad kills the soldiers who visit the widow, and persuades the people to kill all the others in their sleep. The Seanagal next advises the king to give a feast to all the people. Whoever dared to dance with the king's daughter would be the culprit. The shifty lad asks her to dance, she makes a black mark on him, but he puts a similar black mark on twenty others. The king now proclaims that, if the author of these clever tricks will reveal himself, he shall marry his daughter. All the men with marks on them contend for the honour. It is agreed that to whomsoever a child shall give an apple, the king is to give his daughter. The shifty lad goes into the room where they are all assembled, with a shaving and a drone, and the child gives him the apple. He marries the princess, but is killed by accident. Köhler (Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 303 and ff.) compares the story of Dolopathos quoted in Loiseleur II, 123, ed. Brunet, p. 183, a story of the Florentine Ser Giovanni, (Pecorone, IX, 1,) an old Netherland story in Haupt's Zeitschrift für Deutsches Alterthum 5, 385-404, called "The thief of Bruges," and a Tyrolese story in Zingerle, Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus Süd-Deutschland, p. 300; also a French Romance of chivalry entitled, "The knight Berinus and his son Aigres of the Magnet mountain." There is also a story in the Seven Wise Masters (Ellis, specimens of early English metrical romances new ed. by Halliwell, London, 1848, p. 423) of a father and his son breaking into the treasure-house of the emperor Octavianus. Köhler also compares the story of Trophonius and his brother or father Agamedes (Scholiast to Aristophanes, Nubes, 508; Pausanias, IX, 37, 3.) This story will also be found in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XII, p. 148. The story appears in Melusine, 1878 p. 17 under the title of "Le Voleur Avisé, Conte Breton." See also Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction, pp. xlvii and ff. CHAPTER LXV. The next evening Gomukha told Naraváhanadatta this story to amuse him as before. Story of the ungrateful Wife. [133] In a certain city there lived the son of a rich merchant, who was an incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva. His mother died, and his father became attached to another wife, so he sent him away; and the son went forth from his father's house with his wife to live in the forest. His younger brother also was banished by his father, and went with him, but as he was not of a chastened disposition, the elder brother parted company with him, and went in another direction. And as he was going along, he at last came to a great desert wilderness, without water, grass, or tree, scorched by the fierce rays of the sun, and his supplies were exhausted. And he travelled through it for seven days, and kept his wife, who was exhausted with hunger and thirst, alive, by giving her his own flesh and blood, and she drank the blood and ate the flesh. And on the eighth day he reached a mountain forest, resounding with the surging waters of a torrent, abounding in shady trees laden with fruit, and in delightful turf. There he refreshed his wife with water and fruits, and went down into the mountain-stream that was wreathed with waves, to take a bath. And there he saw a man with his two feet and his two hands cut off, being carried along by the current, in need of assistance. Though exhausted with his long fast, the brave man entered the river, and rescued this mutilated person. And the compassionate man landed him on the bank, and said; "Who did this to you, my brother?" Then the maimed man answered, "My enemies cut off my hands and feet, and threw me into the river, desiring to inflict on me a painful death. But you have saved me from the water." When the maimed man told him this, he bandaged his wounds, and gave him food, and then the noble fellow bathed and took food himself. Then this merchant's son, who was an incarnation of a Bodhisattva, remained in that wood with his wife, living on roots and fruits, and engaged in austerities. One day, when he was away in search of fruits and roots, his wife fell in love with that maimed man, whose wounds were healed. And determining to kill her husband, the wicked woman devised a plot for doing so in concert with that mutilated man, and she pretended to be ill. And she pointed out a plant growing in the ravine, where it was difficult to descend, and the river hard to cross, and said to her husband; "I may live if you bring me that sovereign plant, for I am sure that the god indicated to me its position in a dream." He consented, and descended into the ravine to get the plant, by the help of a rope plaited of grass and fastened to a tree. But when he had got down, she unfastened the rope; so he fell into the river, and was swept away by it, as its current was strong. And he was carried an enormous distance by the river, and flung up on the bank near a certain city, for his merits preserved his life. Then he climbed up on to the firm ground, and rested under a tree, as he was fatigued by his immersion in the water, and thought over the wicked behaviour of his wife. Now it happened that at that time the king of that city had just died, and in that country there was an immemorial custom, that an auspicious elephant was driven about by the citizens, and any man, that he took up with his trunk and placed on his back, was anointed king. [134] The elephant, wandering about, came near the merchant's son, and, as if he were Providence pleased with his self-control, took him up, and put him on his back. Then the merchant's son, who was an incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva, was immediately taken to the city and anointed king by the people. When he had obtained the crown, he did not associate with charming women of coquettish behaviour, but held converse with the virtues of compassion, cheerfulness and patience. And his wife wandered about hither and thither, carrying that maimed man, who was her paramour, on her back, [135] without fear of her husband, whom she supposed to have been swept away by the river. And she begged from village to village, and city to city, saying, "This husband of mine has had his hands and feet cut off by his enemies; I am a devoted wife and support him by begging, so give me alms. At last she reached the town in which that husband of hers was king. She begged there in the same way, and, as she was honoured by the citizens as a devoted wife the fame of her virtue reached the ears of the king. And the king had her summoned, with the maimed man on her back, and, when she came near, he recognized her and said; "Are you that devoted wife?" And the wicked woman, not recognizing her husband, when surrounded by the splendour of the kingly office, said, "I am that devoted wife, your Majesty." Then that incarnation of a Bodhisattva laughed, and said; "I too have had practical experience of your wifely devotion. How comes it that, though I your own husband, who possess hands and feet, could not tame you, even by giving you my own flesh and blood, which you kept feeding on like an ogress in human form, this maimed fellow, though defective in his limbs, has been able to tame you and make you his beast of burden? Did you carry on your back your innocent husband, whom you threw into the river? It is owing to that deed that you have to carry and support this maimed man." When her husband in these words revealed her past conduct, she recognized him, and fainting from fear, became like a painted or dead woman. The ministers in their curiosity said, "Tell us, king, what this means." Then the king told them the whole story. And the ministers, when they heard that she had conspired against her husband's life, cut off her nose and ears, and branded her, and banished her from the country with the maimed man. And in this matter Fate shewed a becoming combination, for it united a woman without nose and ears with a man without hands and feet, and a man who was an incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva, with the splendour of royalty. "Thus the way of woman's heart, which is a thing full of hate, indiscriminating, prone to the base, is difficult to fathom. And thus good fortune comes spontaneous and unexpected, as if pleased with them, to those of noble soul, who do not swerve from virtue and who conquer anger." When the minister Gomukha had told this tale, he proceeded to relate the following story. Story of the grateful animals and the ungrateful woman. [136] There was a certain man of noble soul, who was an incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva, whose heart was melted by compassion only, who had built a hut in a forest and lived there, performing austerities. He, while living there, by his power rescued living beings in distress and Pisáehas, and others he gratified by presents of water and jewels. One day, as he was roaming about in the wood to assist others, he saw a great well and looked into it. And a woman, who was in it, said to him in a loud voice; "Noble sir, here are four of us; myself a woman, a lion, and a golden-crested bird, and a snake, fallen into this well in the night; so take us out; have mercy upon us." When he heard this, he said, "Granted that you three fell in because the darkness made it impossible for you to see your way, but how did the bird fall in?" The woman answered him, "It fell in by being caught in a fowler's net." Then the ascetic tried to lift them out by the supernatural power of his asceticism, but he could not; on the contrary, his power was gone. He reflected, "Surely this woman is a sinner, and owing to my having conversed with her, my power is gone from me. So I will use other means in this case." Then he plaited a rope of grass, and so drew them all four up out of the well, and they praised him. And in his astonishment he said to the lion, the bird, and the snake; "Tell me, how come you to have articulate voice, and what is your history?" Then the lion said, "We have articulate speech and we remember our former births, and we are mutual enemies; hear our stories in turns." So the lion began to tell his own story as follows: The lion's story. There is a splendid city on the Himálayas, called Vaidúryasringa; and in it there is a prince of the Vidyádharas named Padmavesa, and to him a son was born named Vajravega. That Vajravega, while he dwelt in the world of the Vidyádharas, being a vain-glorious person, quarrelled with any body and every body, confiding in his courage. His father ordered him to desist, but he paid no attention to his command. Then his father cursed him, saying, "Fall into the world of mortals." Then his arrogance was extinguished, and his knowledge left him, and smitten with the curse he wept, and asked his father to name a time when it should end. Then his father Padmavega thought a little, and said immediately; "You shall become a Bráhman's son on the earth, and display this arrogance once more, and by your father's curse you shall become a lion and fall into a well. And a man of noble character, out of compassion, shall draw you out, and when you have recompensed him in his calamity, you shall be delivered from this curse." This was the termination of the curse which his father appointed for him. Then Vajravega was born in Málava as Devaghosha, the son of Harighosha a Bráhman. And in that birth also he fought with many, confiding in his heroism, and his father said to him, "Do not go on in this way quarrelling with every body." But he would not obey his father's orders, so his father cursed him--"Become immediately a foolish lion, over-confident in its strength." In consequence of this speech of his father's, Devaghosha, that incarnation of a Vidyádhara, was again born as a lion in this forest. "Know that I am that lion. I was wandering about here at night, and as chance would have it, I fell into this well; and you, noble sir, have drawn me up out of it. So now I will depart, and, if you should fall into any difficulty, remember me; I will do you a good turn and so get released from my curse." After the lion had said this be went away, and the golden-crested bird, being questioned by that Bodhisattva, told his tale. The golden-crested bird's story. There is on the Himálayas a king of the Vidyádharas, named Vajradanshtra. His queen gave birth to five daughters in succession. And then the king propitiated Siva with austerities and obtained a son, named Rajatadanshtra, whom he valued more than life. His father, out of affection, bestowed the knowledge of the sciences upon him when he was still a child, and he grew up, a feast to the eyes of his relations. One day he saw his eldest sister, by name Somaprabhá, playing upon a pinjara. In his childishness he kept begging for the pinjara, saying, "Give it me, I too want to play on it." And when she would not give it him, in his flightiness he seized the pinjara, and flew up to heaven with it in the form of a bird. Then his sister cursed him, saying;--"Since you have taken my pinjara from me by force, and flown away with it, you shall become a bird with a golden crest." When Rajatadanshtra heard this, he fell at his sister's feet, and entreated her to fix a time for his curse to end, and she said, "When, foolish boy, you fall, in your bird-form, into a blind well, and a certain merciful person draws you out, and you do him a service in return, then you shall be released from this curse." When she had said this to her brother, he was born as a bird with a golden crest. "I am that same golden-crested bird, that fell into this pit in the night, and have now been drawn out by you, so now I will depart. Remember me when you fall into calamity, for by doing you a service in return I shall be released from my curse." When the bird had said this, he departed. Then the snake, being questioned by that Bodhisattva, told his story to that great-souled one. The snake's story. Formerly I was the son of a hermit in the hermitage of Kasyapa. And I had a companion there who was also the son of a hermit. And one day my friend went down into the lake to bathe, and I remained on the bank. And while I was there, I saw a serpent come with three heads. And, in order to terrify that friend of mine in fun, I fixed the serpent immoveable on the bank, opposite to where he was, by the power of a spell. My friend got through his bathing in a moment, and came to the bank, and unexpectedly seeing that great serpent there, he was terrified and fainted. After some time I brought my friend round again, but he, finding out by meditation that I had terrified him in this way, became angry, and cursed me, saying, "Go and become a similar great snake with three crests." Then I entreated him to fix an end to my curse, and he said,--"When, in your serpent condition, you fall into a well, and at a critical moment do a service to the man who pulls you out, then you shall be freed from your curse." "After he had said this, he departed, and I became a serpent, and now you have drawn me out of the well; so now I will depart. And when you think of me I will come; and by doing you a service I shall be released from my curse." When the snake had said this, he departed, and the woman told her story. The woman's story. I am the wife of a young Kshatriya in the king's employ, a man in the bloom of youth, brave, generous, handsome, and high-minded. Nevertheless I was wicked enough to enter into an intrigue with another man. When my husband found it out, he determined to punish me. And I heard of this from my confidante, and that moment I fled, and entered this wood at night, and fell into this well, and was dragged out by you. "And thanks to your kindness I will now go and maintain myself somewhere. May a day come when I shall be able to requite your goodness." When the sinful woman had said this to the Bodhisattva, she went to the town of a king named Gotravardhana. She obtained an interview, with him, and remained among his attendants, in the capacity of maid to the king's principal queen. But because that Bodhisattva talked with that woman, he lost his power, and could not procure fruits and roots and things of that kind. Then, being exhausted with hunger and thirst, he first thought of the lion. And, when he thought of him, he came and fed him with the flesh of deer, [137] and in a short time he restored him to his former health with their flesh; and then the lion said, "My curse is at an end, I will depart." When he had said this, the Bodhisattva gave him leave to depart, and the lion became a Vidyádhara and went to his own place. Then that incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva, being again exhausted by want of food, thought upon that golden-crested bird, and he came, when thought of by him. And when he told the bird of his sufferings, the bird went and brought a casket full of jewels [138] and gave it him, and said, "This wealth will support you for ever, and so my curse has come to an end, now I depart; may you enjoy happiness!" When he had said this, he became a young Vidyádhara prince, and went through the air to his own world, and received the kingdom from his father. And the Bodhisattva, as he was wandering about to sell the jewels, reached that city, where the woman was living whom he had rescued from the well. And he deposited those jewels in an out-of-the-way house belonging to an old Bráhman woman, and went to the market, and on the way he saw coming towards him the very woman whom he had saved from the well, and the woman saw him. And the two fell into a conversation, and in the course of it the woman told him of her position about the person of the queen. And she asked him about his own adventures: so the confiding man told her how the golden-crested bird had given him the jewels. And he took her and shewed her the jewels in the house of the old woman, and the wicked woman went and told her mistress the queen of it. Now it happened that the golden-crested bird had managed artfully to steal this casket of jewels from the interior of the queen's palace, before her eyes. And when the queen heard from the mouth of that woman, who knew the facts, that the casket had arrived in the city, she informed the king. And the king had the Bodhisattva pointed out by that wicked woman, and brought by his servants as a prisoner from that house with the ornaments. And after he had asked him the circumstances, though he believed his account, he not only took the ornaments from him, but he put him in prison. Then the Bodhisattva, terrified at being put in prison, thought upon the snake, who was an incarnation of the hermit's son, and the snake came to him. And when the snake had seen him, and enquired what his need was, he said to the good man, "I will go and coil round the king from his head to his feet. [139] And I will not let him go until I am told to do so by you. And you must say here, in the prison, 'I will deliver the king from the serpent.' And when you come and give me the order, I will let the king go. And when I let him go, he will give you half his kingdom." After he had said this, the snake went and coiled round the king, and placed his three hoods on his head. And the people began to cry out, "Alas! the king is bitten by a snake." Then the Bodhisattva said, "I will deliver the king from this snake." And the king's servants, having heard this, informed him. Thereupon the king, who was in the grasp of the snake, had the Bodhisattva summoned, and said to him, "If you deliver me from this snake, I will give you half my kingdom, and these my ministers are your guarantees that I will keep my promise." When his ministers heard this, they said,--"Certainly," and then the Bodhisattva said to that snake, "Let the king go at once." Then the snake let the king go, and the king gave half his kingdom to that Bodhisattva, and thus he became prosperous in a moment. And the serpent, as its curse was at an end, became a young hermit, and he told his story in the presence of the court and went back to his hermitage. "Thus you see that good fortune certainly befalls those of good dispositions. And transgression brings suffering even upon the great. And the mind of women cannot be relied upon, it is not touched even by such a service as rescue from death; so what other benefit can move them?" When Gomukha had told this tale, he said to the king of Vatsa, "Listen, I will tell you some more stories of fools." Story of the Buddhist monk who was bitten by a dog. There was in a certain Buddhist monastery a Buddhist monk of dull intellect. One day, as he was walking in the high road, he was bitten by a dog on the knee. And when he had been thus bitten, he returned to his monastery, and thus reflected,--"Every body, one after another, will ask me, 'What has happened to your knee?' And what a time it will take me to inform them all one by one! So I will make use of an artifice to let them all know at once." Having thus reflected, he quickly went to the top of the monastery, and taking the stick with which the gong was struck, he sounded the gong. And the mendicant monks, hearing it, came together in astonishment, and said to him, "Why do you without cause sound the gong at the wrong time?" He answered the mendicants, at the same time shewing them his knee, "The fact is, a dog has bitten my knee, so I called you together, thinking that it would take a long time for me to tell each of you separately such a long story: so hear it all of you now, and look at my knee." Then all the mendicants laughed till their sides ached, and said, "What a great fuss he has made about a very small matter!" "You have heard of the foolish Buddhist monk, now hear of the foolish Takka." Story of the man who submitted to be burnt alive sooner than share his food with a guest. There lived somewhere a rich but foolish Takka, [140] who was a miser. And he and his wife were always eating barley-meal without salt. And he never learned to know the taste of any other food. Once Providence instigated him to say to his wife, "I have conceived a desire for a milk-pudding: cook me one to-day." His wife said, "I will," and set about cooking the pudding, and the Takka remained in doors concealed, taking to his bed, for fear some one should see him and drop in on him as a guest. In the meanwhile a friend of his, a Takka who was fond of mischief, came there, and asked his wife where her husband was. And she, without giving an answer, went in to her husband, and told him of the arrival of his friend. And he, lying on the bed, said to her; "Sit down here, and remain weeping and clinging to my feet, and say to my friend, 'My husband is dead.' [141] When he is gone, we will eat this pudding happily together." When he gave her this order, she began to weep, and the friend came in, and said to her, "What is the matter?" She said to him "Look, my husband is dead." But he reflected, "I saw her a moment ago happy enough cooking a pudding. How comes it that her husband is now dead, though he has had no illness? The two things are incompatible. No doubt the two have invented this fiction because they saw I had come as a guest. So I will not go." Thereupon the mischievous fellow sat down, and began crying out, "Alas my friend! Alas, my friend!" Then his relations, hearing the lamentation, came in and prepared to take that silly Takka to the burning-place, for he still continued to counterfeit death. But his wife came to him and whispered in his ear, "Jump up, before these relations take you off to the pyre and burn you." But the foolish man answered his wife in a whisper, "No! that will never do, for this cunning Takka wishes to eat my pudding. I cannot get up, for it was on his arrival that I died. For to people like me the contemplation of one's possessions is dearer than life." Then that wicked friend and his relations carried him out, but he remained immoveable, even while he was being burned, and kept silence till he died. So the foolish man sacrificed his life but saved his pudding, and others enjoyed at ease the wealth he had acquired with much toil. "You have heard the story of the miser, now hear the story of the foolish pupils and the cat." Story of the foolish teacher, the foolish pupils, and the cat. In Ujjayiní there lived in a convent a foolish teacher. And he could not sleep, because mice troubled him at night. And wearied with this infliction, he told the whole story to a friend. The friend, who was a Bráhman, said to that teacher, "You must set up a cat, it will eat the mice." The teacher said, "What sort of creature is a cat? Where can one be found? I never came across one." When the teacher said this, the friend replied, "Its eyes are like glass, its colour is a brownish grey, it has a hairy skin on its back, and it wanders about in roads. So, my friend, you must quickly discover a cat by these signs and have one brought." After his friend had said this, he went home. Then that foolish teacher said to his pupils, "You have been present and heard all the distinguishing marks of a cat. So look about for a cat, such as you have heard described, in the roads here." Accordingly the pupils went and searched hither and thither, but they did not find a cat anywhere. Then at last they saw a Bráhman boy coming from the opening of a road, his eyes were like glass, his colour brownish grey, and he wore on his back a hairy antelope-skin. And when they saw him they said, "Here we have got the cat according to the description." So they seized him, and took him to their teacher. Their teacher also observed that he had got the characteristics mentioned by his friend; so he placed him in the convent at night. And the silly boy himself believed that he was a cat, when he heard the description that those fools gave of the animal. Now it happened that the silly boy was a pupil of that Bráhman, who out of friendship gave that teacher the description of the cat. And that Bráhman came in the morning, and, seeing the boy in the convent, said to those fools, "Who brought this fellow here?" The teacher and his foolish pupils answered, "We brought him here as a cat, according to the description which we heard from you." Then the Bráhman laughed and said, "There is considerable difference between a stupid human being, and a cat, which is an animal with four feet and a tail." When the foolish fellows heard this, they let the boy go and said, "So let us go and search again for a cat such as has been now described to us." And the people laughed at those fools. "Ignorance makes every one ridiculous. You have heard of the fools and their cat, now hear the story of another set of fools." Story of the fools and the bull of Siva. There was in a certain convent, full of fools, a man who was the greatest fool of the lot. He once heard in a treatise on law, which was being read out, that a man, who has a tank made, gains a great reward in the next world. Then, as he had a large fortune, he had made a large tank full of water, at no great distance from his own convent. One day this prince of fools went to take a look at that tank of his, and perceived that the sand had been scratched up by some creature. The next day too he came, and saw that the bank had been torn up in another part of that tank, and being quite astonished, he said to himself, "I will watch here to-morrow the whole day, beginning in the early morning, and I will find out what creature it is that does this." After he had formed this resolution, he came there early next morning, and watched, until at last he saw a bull descend from heaven and plough up the bank with its horns. He thought, "This is a heavenly bull, so why should I not go to heaven with it?" And he went up to the bull, and with both his hands laid hold of the tail behind. Then the holy bull lifted up with the utmost force the foolish man, who was clinging to its tail, and carried him in a moment to its home in Kailása. There the foolish man lived for some time in great comfort, feasting on heavenly dainties, sweetmeats, and other things which he obtained. And seeing that the bull kept going and returning, that king of fools, bewildered by destiny, thought, "I will go down clinging to the tail of the bull and see my friends, and after I have told them this wonderful tale, I will return in the same way." Having formed this resolution, the fool went and clung to the tail of the bull one day when it was setting out, and so returned to the surface of the earth. When he returned to the convent, the other blockheads, who were there, embraced him, and asked him where he had been, and he told them. Then all those foolish men, having heard the tale of his adventures, made this petition to him; "Be kind and take us also there, enable us also to feast on sweetmeats." He consented, and told them his plan for doing it, and the next day he led them to the border of the tank and the bull came there. And the principal fool seized the tail of the bull with his two hands, and another took hold of his feet, and a third in turn took hold of his. So, when they had formed a chain by clinging on to one another's feet, the bull flew rapidly up into the air. And while the bull was going along, with all the fools clinging to his tail, it happened that one of the fools said to the principal fool; "Tell us now, to satisfy our curiosity; how large were those sweetmeats which you ate, of which a never-failing supply can be obtained in heaven?" Then the leader had his attention diverted from the business in hand, and quickly joined his hands together like the cup of a lotus, and exclaimed in answer, "So big." But in so doing he let go the tail of the bull. And accordingly he and all those others fell from heaven, and were killed, and the bull returned to Kailása; but the people, who saw it, were much amused. [142] "Fools do themselves an injury by asking questions and giving answers without reflection. You have heard about the fools who flew through the air; hear about this other fool." Story of the fool who asked his way to the village. A certain fool, while going to another village, forgot the way. And when he asked his way, the people said to him; "Take the path that goes up by the tree on the bank of the river." Then the fool went and got on the trunk of that tree, and said to himself, "The men told me that my way lay up the trunk of this tree." And as he went on climbing up it, the bough at the end bent with his weight, and it was all he could do to avoid falling by clinging to it. While he was clinging to it, there came that way an elephant, that had been drinking water, with his driver on his back. When the fool, who was clinging to the tree, saw him, he said with humble voice to that elephant-driver, "Great Sir, take me down." And the elephant-driver let go the elephant-hook, and laid hold of the man by the feet with both his hands, to take him down from the tree. In the meanwhile the elephant went on, and the elephant-driver found himself clinging to the feet of that fool, who was clinging to the end of the tree. Then the fool said urgently to the elephant-driver, "Sing something quickly, if you know anything, in order that the people may hear, and come here at once to take us down. Otherwise we shall fall, and the river will carry us away." When the elephant-driver had been thus appealed to by him, he sang so sweetly that the fool was much pleased. And in his desire to applaud him properly, he forgot what he was about, and let go his hold of the tree, and prepared to clap him with both his hands. Immediately he and the elephant-driver fell into the river and were drowned, for association with fools brings prosperity to no man. After Gomukha had told this story, he went on to tell that of Hiranyáksha. Story of Hiranyáksha and Mrigánkalekhá. There is in the lap of the Himálayas a country called Kasmíra, which is the very crest-jewel of the earth, the home of sciences and virtue. In it there was a town, named Hiranyapura, and there reigned in it a king, named Kanakáksha. And there was born to that king, owing to his having propitiated Siva, a son, named Hiranyáksha, by his wife Ratnaprabhá. The prince was one day playing at ball, and he purposely managed to strike with the ball a female ascetic who came that way. That female ascetic possessing supernatural powers, who had overcome the passion of anger, laughed and said to Hiranyáksha, without altering the expression of her face, [143] "If your youth and other qualities make you so insolent, what will you become if you obtain Mrigánkalekhá for a wife." [144] When the prince heard that, he propitiated the female ascetic and said to her; "Who is this Mrigánkalekhá? tell me, reverend madam." Then she said to him, "There is a glorious king of the Vidyádharas on the Himálayas, named Sasitejas. He has a beautiful daughter, named Mrigánkalekhá, whose loveliness keeps the princes of the Vidyádharas awake at night. And she will be a fitting wife for you, and you will be a suitable husband for her." When the female ascetic, who possessed supernatural power, said this to Hiranyáksha, he replied, "Tell me, reverend mother, how she is to be obtained." Thereupon she said, "I will go and find out how she is affected towards you, by talking about you. And then I will come and take you there. And you will find me to-morrow in the temple of the god here, named Amaresa, for I come here every day to worship him." After the female ascetic had said this, she went through the air by her supernatural power to the Himálayas, to visit that Mrigánkalekhá. Then she praised to her so artfully the good qualities of Hiranyáksha, that the celestial maiden became very much in love with him, and said to her, "If, reverend mother, I cannot manage to obtain a husband of this kind, of what use to me is this my purposeless life?" So the emotion of love was produced in Mrigánkalekhá, and she spent the day in talking about him, and passed the night with that female ascetic. In the meanwhile Hiranyáksha spent the day in thinking of her, and with difficulty slept at night, but towards the end of the night Párvatí said to him in a dream, "Thou art a Vidyádhara, become a mortal by the curse of a hermit, and thou shalt be delivered from it by the touch of the hand of this female ascetic, and then thou shalt quickly marry this Mrigánkalekhá. Do not be anxious about it, for she was thy wife in a former state." Having said this, the goddess disappeared from his sight. And in the morning the prince woke and rose up, and performed the auspicious ceremonies of bathing and so on. Then he went and adored Amaresa and stood in his presence, since it was there that the female ascetic had appointed him a rendezvous. In the meanwhile Mrigánkalekhá fell asleep with difficulty in her own palace, and Párvatí said to her in a dream, "Do not grieve, the curse of Hiranyáksha is at an end, and he will again become a Vidyádhara by the touch of the hand of the female ascetic, and thou shalt have him once more for a husband." When the goddess had said this, she disappeared, and in the morning Mrigánkalekhá woke up and told the female ascetic her dream. And the holy ascetic returned to the earth, and said to Hiranyáksha, who was in the temenos of Amaresa, "Come to the world of Vidyádharas." When she said this, he bent before her, and she took him up in her arms, and flew up with him to heaven. Then Hiranyáksha's curse came to an end, and he became a prince of the Vidyádharas, and he remembered his former birth, and said to the female ascetic, "Know that I was a king of the Vidyádharas named Amritatejas in a city named Vajrakúta. And long ago I was cursed by a hermit, angry because I had treated him with neglect, and I was doomed to live in the world of mortals until touched by your hand. And my wife, who then abandoned the body because I had been cursed, has now been born again as Mrigánkalekhá, and so has before been loved by me. And now I will go with you and obtain her once more, for I have been purified by the touch of your hand, and my curse is at an end." So said Amritatejas, the Vidyádhara prince, as he travelled through the air with that female ascetic to the Himálayas. There he saw Mrigánkalekhá in a garden, and she saw him coming, as he had been described by the female ascetic. Wonderful to say, these lovers first entered one another's minds by the ears, and now they entered them by the eyes, without ever having gone out again. Then that outspoken female ascetic said to Mrigánkalekhá, "Tell this to your father with a view to your marriage." She instantly went, with a face downcast from modesty, and informed her father of all through her confidante. And it happened that her father also had been told how to act by Párvatí in a dream, so he received Amritatejas into his palace with all due honour. And he bestowed Mrigánkalekhá on him with the prescribed ceremonies, and after he was married, he went to the city of Vajrakúta. There he got back his kingdom as well as his wife, and he had his father Kanakáksha brought there, by means of the holy female ascetic, as he was a mortal, and he gratified him with heavenly enjoyments and sent him back again to earth, and long enjoyed his prosperity with Mrigánkalekhá. "So you see that the destiny fixed for any creature in this world, by works in a former birth, falls as it were before his feet, and he attains it with ease, though apparently unattainable." When Naraváhanadatta heard this tale of Gomukha's, he was enabled to sleep that night, though pining for Saktiyasas. CHAPTER LXVI. The next night Gomukha told the following story to Naraváhanadatta to amuse him. In the holy place of Siva, called Dhanesvara, there lived long ago a great hermit, who was waited upon by many pupils. He once said to his pupils, "If any one of you has seen or heard in his life a strange occurrence of any kind, let him relate it." When the hermit said this, a pupil said to him, "Listen, I will tell a strange story which I once heard." Story of the mendicant who travelled from Kasmíra to Pátaliputra. There is in Kasmíra a famous holy place, sacred to Siva, called Vijaya. In it there lived a certain mendicant, who was proud of his knowledge. He worshipped Siva, and prayed--"May I be always victorious in controversy,"--and thereupon he set out for Pátaliputra to exhibit his skill in dispute. And on the way he passed forests, rivers, and mountains, and having reached a certain forest, he became tired, and rested under a tree. And immediately he saw, as he was refreshing himself in the cool breeze of the tank, a student of religion, who had come there dusty with a long journey, with his staff and water-pot in his hand. When he sat down, the wandering mendicant asked him whence he came and whither he was going. The student of religion answered, "I come from that seat of learning Pátaliputra, and I am going to Kasmíra to conquer the Pandits there in discussion. When the mendicant heard this speech of the religious student's, he thought, "If I cannot conquer this one man who has left Pátaliputra, how shall I manage to go and overcome the many who remain there?" So reflecting, he began to reproach that religious student, "Tell me, religious student, what is the meaning of this inconsistent conduct on your part? How comes it that you are at the same time a religious student, eager for liberation, and a man afflicted with the madness of disputatiousness? Do you seek to be delivered from the world by binding yourself with the conceit of controversy? You are quenching heat with fire, and removing the feeling of cold with snow; you are trying to cross the sea on a boat of stone; you are striving to put out a fire by fanning it. The virtue of Bráhmans is patience, that of Kshatriyas is the rescue of the distressed; the characteristic quality of one who desires liberation is quietism; disputatiousness is said to be the characteristic of Rákshasas. Therefore a man who desires liberation must be of a quiet temperament, putting away the pain arising from alternations of opposites, fearing the hindrances of the world. So cut down with the axe of quietism this tree of mundane existence, and do not water it with the water of controversial conceit." When he said this to the religious student, he was pleased, and bowed humbly before him, and saying, "Be you my spiritual guide,"--he departed by the way that he came. And the mendicant remained, laughing, where he was, at the foot of the tree, and then he heard from within it the conversation of a Yaksha, who was joking with his wife. [145] And while the mendicant was listening, the Yaksha in sport struck his wife with a garland of flowers, and she, like a cunning female, pretended that she was dead, and immediately her attendants raised a cry of grief. And after a long time she opened her eyes, as if her life had returned to her. Then the Yaksha her husband said to her; "What have you seen?" Then she told the following invented story; "When you struck me with the garland, I saw a black man come, with a noose in his hand, with flaming eyes, tall, with upstanding hair, terrible, darkening the whole horizon with his shadow. The ruffian took me to the abode of Yama, but his officers there turned him back, and made him let me go." When the Yakshiní said this, the Yaksha laughed, and said to her, "O dear! women cannot be free from deception in any thing that they do. Who ever died from being struck with flowers? Who ever returned from the house of Yama? You silly woman, you have imitated the tricks of the women of Pátaliputra." Story of the wife of king Sinháksha, and the wives of his principal courtiers. For in that city there is a king named Sinháksha: and his wife, taking with her the wives of his minister, commander-in-chief, chaplain, and physician, went once on the thirteenth day of the white fortnight to make a pilgrimage to the shrine of Sarasvatí, the protecting deity of that land. There they, queen and all, met on the way sick persons, humpbacked, blind, and lame, and were thus implored by them, "Give medicine to us wretched diseased men, in order that we may be delivered from our infirmity; have mercy upon the distressed. For this world is wavering as a wave of the sea, transient as a flash of lightning, and its beauty is short-lived like that of a religious festival. So in this unreal world the only real thing is mercy to the wretched, and charity to the poor; it is only the virtuous person that can be said truly to live. What is the use of giving to the rich or the comfortable? [146] What does the cold moon profit a shivering man, or what is the use of a cloud when winter has arrived? So rescue us miserable creatures from the affliction of sickness." When the queen and the other ladies had been thus supplicated by these diseased persons, they said to one another; "These poor afflicted men say what is true, and to the point, so we must endeavour to restore them to health even at the cost of all our substance." Then they worshipped the goddess, and each took one of those sick people to her own house, and, urging on their husbands, they had them treated with the potent drugs of Mahádeví, and they never left off watching them. And from being always with them, they fell in love with them, and became so attached to them that they thought of nothing else in the world. And their minds, bewildered with love, never reflected what a difference there was between these wretched sick men and their own husbands, the king and his chief courtiers. Then their husbands remarked that they had on them the marks of scratches and bites, due to their surprising intimacy with these invalids. And the king, the commander-in-chief, the minister, the chaplain, and the physician talked of this to one another without reserve, but not without anxiety. Then the king said to the others, "You keep quiet at present; I will question my wife dexterously." So he dismissed them, and went to his private apartments, and assuming an expression of affectionate anxiety, he said to his wife, "Who bit you on the lower lip? Who scratched you on the breast? If you tell me the truth, it will be well with you, but not otherwise." When the queen was thus questioned by the king, she told him a fictitious tale, saying, "Ill-fated that I am, I must tell this wonder, though it ought not to be revealed. Every night a man, with a discus and club, comes out of the painted wall, and does this to me, and disappears into it in the morning. And though you, my husband, are alive, he reduces to this state my body, which not even the sun or moon has ever beheld." When the foolish king heard this story of hers, told with much semblance of grief, he believed it, and thought that it was all a trick played by Vishnu. And he told it to the minister and his other servants, and they, like blockheads, also believed that their wives had been visited by Vishnu, and held their tongues. "In this way wicked and cunning females, of bad character, by concurring in one impossible story, deceive silly people, but I am not such a fool as to be taken in." The Yaksha by saying this covered his wife with confusion. And the mendicant at the foot of the tree heard it all. Then the mendicant folded his hands, and said to that Yaksha, "Reverend sir, I have arrived at your hermitage, and now I throw myself on your protection. So pardon my sin in overhearing what you have been saying." By thus speaking the truth he gained the good will of the Yaksha. And the Yaksha said to him, "I am a Yaksha, Sarvasthánagaváta by name, and I am pleased with you. So choose a boon." Then the mendicant said to the Yaksha; "Let this be my boon that you will not be angry with this wife of yours." Then the Yaksha said, "I am exceedingly pleased with you. This boon is already granted, so choose another." Then the mendicant said, "Then this is my second petition, that from this day forward you and your wife will look upon me as a son." When the Yaksha heard this, he immediately became visible to him with his wife, and said, "I consent, my son, we regard you as our own child. And owing to our favour you shall never suffer calamity. And you shall be invincible in disputation, altercation, and gambling." When the Yaksha had said this, he disappeared, and the mendicant worshipped him, and after spending the night there, he went on to Pátaliputra. Then he announced to king Sinháksha, by the mouth of the doorkeeper, that he was a disputant come from Kasmíra. And the king permitted him to enter the hall of assembly, and there he tauntingly challenged the learned men to dispute with him. And after he had conquered them all by virtue of the boon of the Yaksha, he again taunted them in the presence of the king in these words: "I ask you to explain this. What is the meaning of this statement, 'A man with a discus and mace comes out of the painted wall, and bites my lower lip, and scratches my chest, and then disappears in the wall again.' Give me an answer." [147] When the learned men heard his riddle, as they did not know the real reference, they gave no answer, but looked at one another's faces. Then the king Sinháksha himself said to him, "Explain to us yourself the meaning of what you said." Thereupon the mendicant told the king of the deceitful behaviour of his wife, which he had heard about from the Yaksha. And he said to the king, "So a man should never become attached to women, which will only result in his knowing wickedness." The king was delighted with the mendicant, and wished to give him his kingdom. But the mendicant, who was ardently attached to his own native land, would not take it. Then the king honoured him with a rich present of jewels. The mendicant took the jewels and returned to his native land of Kasmíra, and there by the favour of the Yaksha he lived in great comfort. When Gomukha had said this, he remarked, "So strange are these actions of bad women, and the dispensations of Providence, and the conduct of mankind. Now hear this story of another woman who killed eleven. [148] Story of the woman who had eleven husbands. There was in Málava a certain householder, who lived in a village. He had born to him a daughter, who had two or three elder brothers. Now, as soon as she was born her mother died, and a few days after one of the man's sons died. And then his brother was gored by an ox and died of it. So the householder named his daughter, "Three-slayer," because owing to the birth of this ill-omened girl three had met their death. In course of time she grew up, and then the son of a rich man, who lived in that village, asked her in marriage, and her father gave her to him with the usual rejoicings. She lived for some time with that husband, but he soon died. In a few days the fickle woman took another husband. And the second husband met his death in a short time. Then, led astray by her youthful feelings, she took a third husband. And the third husband of this husband-slayer died like the others. In this way she lost ten husbands in succession. So she got affixed to her by way of ridicule the name of "Ten-slayer." Then her father was ashamed and would not let her take another husband, and she remained in her father's house avoided by people. But one day a handsome young traveller entered it, and was allowed by her father to stop as his guest for a night. When Ten-slayer saw him, she fell in love with him, and when he looked at that charming young woman, he too was captivated. Then Love robbed her of her modesty, and she said to her father, "I choose this traveller as one husband more; if he dies I will then take a vow." She said this in the hearing of the traveller, but her father answered her, "Do not think of such a thing, it is too disgraceful; you have lost ten husbands, and if this one dies too, people will laugh consumedly. When the traveller heard this, he abandoned all reserve, and said, "No chance of my dying, I have lost ten wives one after another. So we are on a par; I swear that it is so by the touch of the feet of Siva." When the traveller said this, every body was astonished. And the villagers assembled, and with one consent gave permission to Ten-slayer to marry the traveller, and she took him for her husband. And she lived some time with him, but at last he was seized with an ague and died. Then she was called "Eleven-slayer," and even the stones could not help laughing at her: so she betook herself in despondency to the bank of the Ganges and lived the life of an ascetic. The story of the man, who, thanks to Durgá, had always one ox. When Gomukha had told this amusing story, he went on to say--"Hear also the story of the man who subsisted on one ox." There was a certain poor householder in a certain village; and the only wealth he had in his house was one ox. He was so mean-spirited that, though his family was on the point of perishing for want of food, and he himself had to fast, he could not make up his mind to part with that ox. But he went to the shrine of Durgá in the Vindhya hills, and throwing himself down on a bed of darbha-grass, he performed asceticism without taking food, in order that he might obtain wealth. The goddess said to him in a dream, "Rise up; your wealth shall always consist of one ox, and by selling it you shall live in perpetual comfort." So the next morning he woke, and got up, took some food, and returned to his house. But even then he had not strength of mind to sell that ox, for he thought that, if he sold it, he would have nothing left in the world, and be unable to live. Then, as, thin with fasting, he told his dream with reference to the command of the goddess, a certain intelligent friend said to him, "The goddess told you that you should always have one ox, and that you should live by selling it, so why did you not, foolish man, obey the command of the goddess? So, sell this ox, and support your family. When you have sold this one, you will get another, and then another." The villager, on receiving this suggestion from his friend, did so. And he received ox after ox, and lived in perpetual comfort by selling them. "So you see, Destiny produces fruit for every man according to his resolution. So a man should be resolute; good fortune does not select for favour a man wanting in resolution. Hear now this story of the cunning rogue who passed himself off as a minister." Story of the rogue who managed to acquire wealth by speaking to the king. [149] There was a certain king in a city in the Dekkan. In that city there was a rogue who lived by imposing upon others. And one day he said to himself, being too ambitious to be satisfied with small gains; "Of what use to me is this petty rascality, which only provides me with subsistence? Why should I not do a stroke of business which would bring me great prosperity?" Having thus reflected, he dressed himself splendidly as a merchant, and went to the palace-gate and accosted the warder. And he introduced him into the king's presence, and he offered a complimentary gift, and said to the king, "I wish to speak with your Majesty in private." The king was imposed upon by his dress, and much influenced in his favour by the present, so he granted him a private interview, and then the rogue said to him, "Will your Majesty have the goodness every day, in the hall of assembly, to take me aside for a moment in the sight of all, and speak to me in private? And as an acknowledgment of that favour I will give your Majesty every day five hundred dínárs, and I do not ask for any gift in return." When the king heard that, he thought to himself, "What harm can it do? What does he take away from me? On the contrary he is to give me dínárs every day. What disgrace is there in carrying on a conversation with a great merchant?" So the king consented, and did as he requested, and the rogue gave the king the dínárs as he had promised, and the people thought that he had obtained the position of a Cabinet Minister. Now one day the rogue, while he was talking with the king, kept looking again and again at the face of one official with a significant expression. And after he came out, that official asked him why he had looked at his face so, and the rogue was ready with this fiction; "The king is angry because he supposes that you have been plundering his realm. This is why I looked at your face, but I will appease his anger." When the sham minister said this, the official went home in a state of anxiety, and sent him a thousand gold pieces. And the next day the rogue talked in the same way with the king, and then he came out and said to the official, who came towards him; "I appeased the king's anger against you with some judicious words. Cheer up; I will now stand by you in all emergencies." Thus he artfully made him his friend, and then dismissed him, and then the official waited upon him with all kinds of presents. Thus gradually this dexterous rogue, by means of his continual conversations with the king, and by many artifices, extracted from the officials, the subordinate monarchs, the Rájpúts, and the servants, so much wealth, that he amassed altogether fifty millions of gold pieces. Then the scoundrelly sham minister said in secret to the king, "Though I have given you every day five hundred dínárs, nevertheless, by the favour of your Highness, I have amassed fifty millions of gold pieces. So have the goodness to accept of this gold. What have I to do with it?" Then he told the king his whole stratagem. But it was with difficulty that the king could be induced to take half the money. Then he gave him the post of a Cabinet Minister, and the rogue, having obtained riches and position, kept complimenting the people with entertainments. "Thus a wise man obtains great wealth without committing a very great crime, and when he has gained the advantage, he atones for his fault in the same way as a man who digs a well." Then Gomukha went on to say to the prince; "Listen now to this one story, though you are excited about your approaching marriage." Story of Ratnarekhá and Lakshmísena. There lived in a city, named Ratnákara, a king, named Buddhiprabha, who was a very lion to the infuriated elephant-herd of his enemies, and there was born to him by his queen, named Ratnarekhá, a daughter, named Hemaprabhá, the most beautiful woman in the whole world. And since she was a Vidyádharí, that had fallen to earth by a curse, she was fond of amusing herself by swinging, on account of the pleasure that she felt in recalling the impressions of her roaming through the air in her former existence. Her father forbade her, being afraid that she would fall, but she did not desist, so her father was angry and gave her a slap. The princess was angry at receiving so great an indignity, and wishing to retire to the forest, she went to a garden outside the city, on the pretence of amusing herself. She made her servants drunk with wine, and roaming on, she entered a dense tree-jungle, and got out of their sight. And she went alone to a distant forest, and there she built herself a hut, and remained feeding on roots and fruits, engaged in the adoration of Siva. As for her father, he found out that she had fled to some place or other, and made search for her, but did not find her. Then he fell into great grief. And after some time the king's grief abated a little, so he went out hunting to distract his mind. And, as it happened, that king Buddhiprabha went to that distant forest, in which his daughter Hemaprabhá was engaged in ascetic practices. There the king saw her hut, and he went into it, and unexpectedly beheld there his own daughter emaciated with ascetic practices. And she, when she saw him, rose up at once and embraced his feet, and her father embraced her with tears and seated her on his lap. And seeing one another again after so long a separation, they wept so that even the eyes of the deer in the forest gushed with tears. Then the king at last comforted his daughter, and said to her, "Why did you abandon, my daughter, the happiness of a palace, and act thus? So come back to your mother, and give up this forest." When her father said this to her, Hemaprabhá answered him, "I have been commanded by the god to act thus. What choice have I in the matter? So I will not return to the palace to indulge in pleasure, and I will not abandon the joys of asceticism." When the king discovered from this speech of hers that she would not abandon her intention, he had a palace made for her in that very forest. And when he returned to his capital, he sent her every day cooked food and wealth, for the entertainment of her guests. And Hemaprabhá remained in the forest, honouring her guests with wealth and jewels, while she lived herself on roots and fruits. Now one day there came to the hermitage of that princess a female mendicant, who was roaming about, having observed a vow of chastity from her earliest youth. This lady, who had been a mendicant from her childhood, was honoured by Hemaprabhá, and when asked by her the reason why she took the vow, she answered, "Once, when I was a girl, I was shampooing my father's feet, and my eyes closed in sleep, and I let my hands drop. Then my father gave me a kick, and said, 'Why do you go to sleep?' And I was so angry at that that I left his house and became a mendicant." Then Hemaprabhá was so delighted with the female mendicant, on account of the resemblance of her character to her own, that she made her share her forest life. And one morning she said to that friend; "My friend, I remember that I crossed in my dreams a broad river, then I mounted a white elephant, after that I ascended a mountain, and there I saw in a hermitage the holy god Siva. And having obtained a lyre, I sang and played on it before him, and then I saw a man of celestial appearance approach. When I saw him, I flew up into the sky with you, and when I had seen so much, I awoke, and lo! the night was at an end." When the friend heard this, she said to Hemaprabhá, "Undoubtedly, auspicious girl, you must be some heavenly being born on earth in consequence of a curse; and this dream means that your curse is nearly at an end." When the princess heard this speech of her friend's, she received it with joy. And when the sun, the lamp of the world, had mounted high in the heaven, there came there a certain prince on horseback. When he saw Hemaprabhá dressed as an ascetic, he dismounted from his horse, and conceiving admiration for her, he went and saluted her respectfully. She, for her part, entertained him, and made him take a seat, and feeling love for him, said, "Who are you, noble sir?" Then the prince said, "Noble lady, there is a king of auspicious name, called Pratápasena. He was once going through a course of asceticism to propitiate Siva, with the view of obtaining a son. And that merciful god appeared to him, and said, 'Thou shalt obtain one son, who shall be an incarnation of a Vidyádhara, and he, when his curse is at an end, shall return to his own world. And thou shalt have a second son, who shall continue thy race and uphold thy realm.' When Siva said this to him, he rose up in high spirits, and took food. Then he had one son born to him, named Lakshmísena, and in course of time a second, named Súrasena. Know, lovely one, that I am that same Lakshmísena, and that to-day when I went out to hunt, my horse, swift as the wind, ran away with me and brought me here." Then he asked her history, and she told it him, and thereupon she remembered her former birth, and was very much elated, and said to him, "Now that I have seen you, I have remembered my birth and the sciences which I knew as a Vidyádharí, [150] for I and this friend of mine here are both Vidyádharís, that have been sent down to earth by a curse. And you were my husband, and your minister was the husband of this friend of mine. And now that curse of me and of my friend has lost its power. We shall all meet again in the world of Vidyádharas." Then she and her friend assumed divine forms and flew up to heaven, and went to their own world. But Lakshmísena stood for a moment lost in wonder, and then his minister arrived tracking his course. While the prince was telling the whole story to him, king Buddhiprabha arrived, anxious to see his daughter. When he could not see his daughter, but found Lakshmísena there, he asked for news of her, and Lakshmísena told him what had happened. Then Buddhiprabha was cast down, but Lakshmísena and his minister remembered their former existence, their curse having spent its force, and they went to their own world through the air. He recovered his wife Hemaprabhá and returned with her, and then taking leave of Buddhiprabha, he went to his own town. And he went with his minister, who had recovered his wife, and told their adventures to his father Pratápasena, who bestowed on him his kingdom as his successor by right of birth. But he gave it to his younger brother Súrasena, and returned to his own city in the country of the Vidyádharas. There Lakshmísena, united with his consort Hemaprabhá, and assisted by his minister, long enjoyed the delights of sovereignty over the Vidyádharas. By hearing these stories told one after another by Gomukha, Naraváhanadatta, though he was excited about his approaching marriage with his new wife Saktiyasas, spent that night as if it were a moment. In this way the prince whiled away the days, until the day of his marriage arrived, when, as he was in the presence of his father the king of Vatsa, he suddenly saw the army of the Vidyádharas descend from heaven, gleaming like gold. And he saw, in the midst of them, Sphatikayasas the king of the Vidyádharas, who had come out of love, holding the hand of his dear daughter, whom he wished to bestow on the prince, and he joyfully went towards him, and saluted him by the title of father-in-law, after his father had first entertained him with the arghya and other usual ceremonies. And the king of the Vidyádharas stated the object of his coming, and immediately created a display of heavenly magnificence becoming his high position, and by the might of his supernatural power loaded the prince with jewels, and then bestowed on him in due form his daughter previously promised to him. And Naraváhanadatta, having obtained that Saktiyasas, the daughter of the king of the Vidyádharas, was resplendent as the lotus after collecting the rays of the sun. Then Sphatikayasas departed, and the son of the king of Vatsa remained in the city of Kausámbí, with his eyes fixed on the face of Saktiyasas, as the bee clings to the lotus. BOOK XI. CHAPTER LXVII. Honour to the elephant-headed god who averts all hindrances, who is the cause of every success, who ferries us over the sea of difficulties. Thus Naraváhanadatta obtained Saktiyasas, and besides he had those wives he married before, Ratnaprabhá and others, and his consort the head wife Madanamanchuká, and with them and his friends he led a happy life at the court of his father in Kausámbí. Story of the race between the elephant and the horses. And one day, when he was in the garden, two brothers, who were princes, and who had come from a foreign land, suddenly paid him a visit. He received them cordially, and they bowed before him, and one of them said to him; "We are the sons by different mothers of a king in the city of Vaisákha. My name is Ruchiradeva and the name of this brother of mine is Potraka. I have a swift female elephant, and he has two horses. And a dispute has arisen between us about them; I say that the elephant is the fleetest, he maintains that his horses are both fleeter. I have agreed that if I lose the race, I am to surrender the elephant, but if he loses, he is to give me both his horses. Now no one but you is fit to be a judge of their relative speed, so come to my house, my lord, and preside over this trial. Accede to our request. For you are the wishing-tree that grants all petitions, and we have come from afar to petition you about this matter." When the prince received this invitation from Ruchiradeva, he consented out of good nature, and out of the interest he took in the elephant and the horses. He set out in a chariot drawn by swift horses, which the brothers had brought, and he reached with them that city of Vaisákha. When he entered that splendid city, the ladies, bewildered and excited, beheld him with eyes the lashes of which were turned up, and made these comments on him; "Who can this be! Can it be the god of Love new-created from his ashes without Rati? Or a second moon roaming through the heaven without a spot on its surface? Or an arrow of desire made by the Creator, in the form of a man, for the sudden complete overthrow of the female heart." Then the king beheld the all-lovely temple of the god of Love, whose worship had been established there by men of old time. He entered and worshipped that god, the source of supreme felicity, and rested for a moment, and shook off the fatigue of the journey. Then he entered as a friend the house of Ruchiradeva, which was near that temple, and was honoured by being made to walk in front of him. He was delighted at the sight of that magnificent palace, full of splendid horses and elephants, which was in a state of rejoicing on account of his visit. There he was entertained with various hospitalities by Ruchiradeva, and there he beheld his sister of splendid beauty. His mind and his eyes were so captivated by her glorious beauty, that he forgot all about his absence from home and his separation from his family. She too threw lovingly upon him her expanded eye, which resembled a garland of full blown blue lotuses, and so chose him as her husband. [151] Her name was Jayendrasená, and he thought so much upon her that the goddess of sleep did not take possession of him at night, much less did other females. [152] The next day Potraka brought that pair of horses equal to the wind in swiftness; but Ruchiradeva, who was skilled in all the secrets of the art of driving, himself mounted the female elephant, and partly by the animal's natural speed, partly by his dexterity in urging it on, beat them in the race. When Ruchiradeva had beaten those two splendid horses, the son of the king of Vatsa entered the palace, and at that very moment arrived a messenger from his father. The messenger, when he saw the prince, fell at his feet, and said; "The king, hearing from your retinue that you have come here, has sent me to you with this message. 'How comes it that you have gone so far from the garden without letting me know? I am impatient for your return, so abandon the diversion that occupies your attention, and return quickly.'" When he heard this message from his father's messenger, Naraváhanadatta, who was also intent on obtaining the object of his flame, was in a state of perplexity. And at that very moment a merchant, in a great state of delight, came, bowing at a distance, and praised that prince, saying, "Victory to thee, O thou god of love without the flowery bow! Victory to thee, O Lord, the future emperor of the Vidyádharas! Wast thou not seen to be charming as a boy, and when growing up, the terror of thy foes? So surely the gods shall behold thee like Vishnu, striding victorious over the heaven, conquering Bali." With these and other praises the great merchant magnified the prince; then having been honoured by him, he proceeded at his request to tell the story of his life. Story of the merchant and his wife Velá. There is a city called Lampá, the crown of the earth; in it there was a rich merchant named Kusumasára. I, prince of Vatsa, am the son of that merchant, who lives and moves in religion, and I was gained by the propitiation of Siva. Once on a time I went with my friends to witness a procession of idols, and I saw other rich men giving to beggars. Then I formed the design of acquiring wealth to give away, as I was not satisfied with the vast fortune accumulated by my father. So I embarked in a ship, laden with many jewels, to go across the sea to another country. And my ship, impelled by a favorable wind, as if by fate, reached that island in a few days. There the king found out that I was an unknown man dealing in valuable jewels, and out of avarice he threw me into prison. While I was remaining in that prison, which resembled hell, on account of its being full of howling criminals, suffering from hunger and thirst, like wicked ghosts, a merchant, named Mahídhara, a resident in that town, who knew my family, went and interceded with the king on my behalf, and said; "King, this is the son of a great merchant, who lives in the city of Lampá, and, as he is innocent, it is not creditable to your majesty to keep him in prison." On his making representations of this kind, the king ordered me to be released from prison, and summoned me into his presence, and honoured me with a courteous reception. So, by the favour of the king and the support of that merchant, I remained there doing a splendid business. One day I saw, at a spring festival in a garden, a handsome girl, the daughter of a merchant named Sikhara. I was quite carried off my feet by her, who was like a wave of the sea of Love's insolence, and when I found out who she was, I demanded her in marriage from her father. Her father reflected for a moment, and at last said to me; "I cannot give her to you myself, there is a reason for my not doing so. But I will send her to her grandfather by the mother's side, in the island of Ceylon; go there and ask for her again, and marry her. And I will send her there with such instructions that your suit will certainly be accepted." When Sikhara had said this, and had paid me the usual courtesies, he dismissed me to my own house. And the next day he put the maiden on board ship, with her attendants, and sent her to the island of Ceylon, across the sea. I was preparing with the utmost eagerness to go there, when this rumour, which was terrible as a lightning-stroke, was spread abroad where I was; "The ship, in which the daughter of Sikhara started, has gone to pieces in the open sea, and not a soul has been saved out of it." That report altogether broke down my self-command, and being anxious about the ship, I suddenly fell into a hopeless sea of despondency. So I, though comforted by my elders, made up my mind to throw away my property and prospects, and I determined to go to that island to ascertain the truth. Then, though patronized by the king and loaded with all manner of wealth, I embarked in a ship on the sea and set out. Then a terrible pirate, in the form of a cloud, suddenly arose against me as I was pursuing my course, and discharged at me pattering drops of rain, like showers of arrows. The contrary wind, which it brought with it, tossed my ship to and fro like powerful destiny, and at last broke it up. My attendants and my wealth were whelmed in the sea, but I myself, when I fell into the water, laid hold of a large spar. [153] By the help of this, which seemed like an arm suddenly extended to me by the Creator, I managed to reach the shore of the sea, being slowly drifted there by the wind. I climbed up upon it in great affliction, exclaiming against destiny, and suddenly I found a little gold which had been left by accident in an out-of-the-way part of the shore. I sold it in a neighbouring village, and bought with it food and other necessaries, and after purchasing a couple of garments, I gradually began to get over to a certain extent the fatigue produced by my immersion in the sea. Then I wandered about, not knowing my way, separated from my beloved, and I saw the ground full of lingas of Siva formed of sand. And daughters of hermits were wandering about among them. And in one place I saw a maiden engaged in worshipping a linga, who was beautiful, although dressed in the garb of a dweller in the forest. I began to think, "This girl is wonderfully like my beloved. Can she be my beloved herself? But how comes it, that I am so lucky as to find her here?" And while these thoughts were passing in my mind, my right eye throbbed frequently, as if with joy, [154] and told me that it was no other than she. And I said to her, "Fair one, you are fitted to dwell in a palace, how comes it that you are here in the forest?" But she gave me no answer. Then, through fear of being cursed by a hermit, I stood concealed by a bower of creepers, looking at her with an eye that could not have enough. And after she had performed her worship, she went slowly away from the spot, as if thinking over something, and frequently turned round to look at me with loving eye. When she had gone out of sight, the whole horizon seemed to be obscured with darkness as I looked at it, and I was in a strange state of perturbation like the Brahmany drake at night. And immediately I beheld the daughter of the hermit Mátanga, who appeared unexpectedly. She was in brightness like the sun, subject to a vow of chastity from her earliest youth, with body emaciated by penance, she possessed divine insight, and was of auspicious countenance like Resignation incarnate. She said to me, "Chandrasára, call up all your patience and listen. There is a great merchant in another island named Sikhara. When a lovely girl was born to him, he was told by a mendicant, his friend, who possessed supernatural insight, and whose name was Jinarakshita, [155] 'You must not give away this maiden yourself, for she has another mother. You would commit a crime in giving her away yourself, such is the righteous prescription of the law.' Since the mendicant had told him this, the merchant wished to give his daughter, when she was of marriageable age, and you asked her hand, to you, by the agency of her maternal grandfather. Then she was sent off on a voyage to her maternal grandfather in the island of Ceylon, but the vessel was wrecked, and she fell into the sea. And as she was fated not to die, a great wave brought her here like destiny, and flung her up upon the shore. Just at that time my father, the hermit Mátanga, came to the sea to bathe with his disciples, and saw her almost dead. He, being of compassionate nature, brought her round, and took her to his hermitage, and entrusted her to me saying--'Yamuná, you must cherish this girl.' And because he found her on the shore (velá) of the sea, he called the girl, who was beloved by all the hermits, Velá. And though I have renounced the world by a vow of perpetual chastity, it still impedes my soul, on account of my affection for her, in the form of love and tenderness for offspring. And my mind is grieved, Chandrasára, as often as I look upon her, unmarried, though in the bloom of youth and beauty. Moreover she was your wife in a former life. So knowing, my son, by the power of my meditation that you had come here, I have come to meet you. Now follow me and marry that Velá, whom I will bestow on you. Let the sufferings, which you have both endured, produce fruits of happiness." Speaking thus, the saintly woman refreshed me with her voice as with cloudless rain, and then she took me to the hermitage of her father, the great hermit Mátanga. And at her request the hermit bestowed on me that Velá, like the happiness of the kingdom of the imagination incarnate in bodily form. But one day, as I was living happily with Velá, I commenced a splashing match with her in the water of a tank. And I and Velá, not seeing the hermit Mátanga, who had come there to bathe, sprinkled him inopportunely with some of the water which we threw. That annoyed him, and he denounced a curse on me and my wife, saying, "You shall be separated, you wicked couple." Then Velá clung to his knees, and asked him with plaintive voice to appoint a period for the duration of our curse, and he, after thinking, fixed its end as follows, "When thou shalt behold at a distance Naraváhanadatta the future mighty emperor of the Vidyádharas, who shall beat with a swift elephant a pair of fleet horses, then thy curse shall be at an end, and thou shalt be re-united with thy wife." When the rishi Mátanga had said this, he performed the ceremony of bathing and other ceremonies, and went to Svetadvípa through the air, to visit the shrine of Vishnu. And Yamuná said to me and my wife--"I give you now that shoe covered with valuable jewels, which a Vidyádhara long ago obtained, when it had slipped off from Siva's foot, and which I seized in childish sport." Thereupon Yamuná also went to Svetadvípa. Then I having obtained my beloved, and being disgusted with dwelling in the forest, through fear of being separated from my wife, felt a desire to return to my own country. And setting out for my native land, I reached the shore of the sea; and finding a trading vessel, I put my wife on board, and was preparing to go on board myself, when the wind, conspiring with the hermit's curse, carried off that ship to a distance. When the ship carried off my wife before my eyes, my whole nature was stunned by the shock, and distraction seemed to have found an opening in me, and broke into me and robbed me of consciousness. Then an ascetic came that way, and seeing me insensible, he compassionately brought me round and took me to his hermitage. There he asked me the whole story, and when he found out that it was the consequence of a curse, and that the curse was to end, he animated me with resolution to bear up. Then I found an excellent friend, a merchant, who had escaped from his ship that had foundered in the sea, and I set out with him in search of my beloved. And supported by the hope of the termination of the curse, I wandered through many lands and lasted out many days, until I finally reached this city of Vaisákha, and heard that you, the jewel of the noble family of the king of Vatsa, had come here. Then I saw you from a distance beat that pair of swift horses with the female elephant, and the weight of the curse fell from me, and I felt my heart lightened. [156] And immediately I saw that dear Velá coming to meet me, whom the good merchants had brought in their ship. Then I was re-united with my wife, who had with her the jewels bestowed by Yamuná, and having by your favour crossed the ocean of separation, I came here, prince of Vatsa, to pay you my respects, and I will now set out cheerfully for my native land with my wife. When that excellent merchant Chandrasára, who had accomplished his object, had gone, after prostrating himself before the prince, and telling his story, Ruchiradeva, pleased at beholding the greatness of his guest, was still more obsequious to him. And in addition to the elephant and the pair of horses, he gave his sister, making the duty of hospitality an excuse for doing so, to the prince who was captivated by her beauty. She was a good match for the prince, and her brother had long desired to bestow her upon him in marriage. Naraváhanadatta then took leave of Ruchiradeva, and with his new wife, the elephant, and the two horses, returned to the city of Kausámbí. And he remained there, gladdening his father with his presence, living happily with her and his other wives, of whom Madanamanchuká was the chief. BOOK XII. CHAPTER LXVIII. May Ganesa protect you, who, when he sports, throws up his trunk, round which plays a continual swarm of bees, like a triumphal pillar covered with letters, erected on account of the overthrow of obstacles! We worship Siva, who, though free from the hue of passion, abounds in colours, the skilful painter who is ever producing new and wonderful creations. Victorious are the arrows of the god of love, for, when they descend, though they are made of flowers, the thunderbolt and other weapons are blunted in the hands of those who bear them. So the son of the king of Vatsa remained in Kausámbí, having obtained wife after wife. But though he had so many wives, he ever cherished the head queen Madanamanchuká more than his own life, as Krishna cherishes Rukminí. But one night he saw in a dream that a heavenly maiden came and carried him off. And when he awoke, he found himself on a slab of the tárkshya gem, on the plateau of a great hill, a place full of shady trees. And he saw that maiden near him, illuminating the wood, though it was night, [157] like a herb used by the god of love for bewildering the world. He thought that she had brought him there, and he perceived that modesty made her conceal her real feelings; so the cunning prince pretended to be asleep, and in order to test her, he said, as if talking in his sleep, "Where are you, my dear Madanamanchuká? Come and embrace me." When she heard it, she profited by his suggestion, and assumed the form of his wife, and embraced him without the restraint of modesty. Then he opened his eyes, and beholding her in the form of his wife, he said, "O how intelligent you are!" and smiling threw his arms round her neck. Then she dismissed all shame, and exhibiting herself in her real shape, she said--"Receive, my husband, this maiden, who chooses you for her own." And when she said that, he married her by the Gándharva form of marriage. But next morning he said to her, by way of an artifice to discover her lineage, about which he felt curious; "Listen, my dear, I will tell you a wonderful story." Story of the jackal that was turned into an elephant. There lived in a certain wood of ascetics a hermit, named Brahmasiddhi, who possessed by meditation supernatural power, and near his hermitage there was an old female jackal dwelling in a cave. One day it was going out to find food, having been unable to find any for some time on account of bad weather, when a male elephant, furious on account of its separation from its female, rushed towards it to kill it. When the hermit saw that, being compassionate as well as endowed with magical power, he turned the female jackal into a female elephant, by way of a kindness, to please both. Then the male elephant, beholding a female, ceased to be furious, and became attached to her, and so she escaped death. Then, as he was roaming about with the jackal transformed into a female elephant, he entered a tank full of the mud produced by the autumn rains, to crop a lotus. He sank in the mud there, and could not move, but remained motionless, like a mountain that has fallen owing to its wings having been cut off by the thunderbolt. When the female elephant, that was before a jackal, saw the male in this distress, she went off that moment and followed another male elephant. Then it happened that the elephant's own mate, that he had lost, came that way in search of her spouse. The noble creature, seeing her husband sinking in the mud, entered the mud of the tank in order to join him. At that moment the hermit Brahmasiddhi came that way with his disciples, and was moved with pity when he saw that pair. And he bestowed by his power great strength on his disciples, and made them extricate the male and female from the mud. Then the hermit went away, and that couple of elephants, having been delivered both from separation and death, roamed where they would. "So you see, my dear, that even animals, if they are of a noble strain, do not desert a lord or friend in calamity, but rescue him from it. But as for those which are of low origin, they are of fickle nature, and their hearts are never moved by noble feelings or affection." When the prince of Vatsa said this, the heavenly maiden said to him--"It is so, there can be no doubt about this. But I know what your real object is in telling me this tale; so in return, my husband, hear this tale from me." Story of Vámadatta and his wicked wife. There was an excellent Bráhman in Kányakubja, named Súradatta, possessor of a hundred villages, respected by the king Báhusakti. And he had a devoted wife, named Vasumatí, and by her he begot a handsome son, named Vámadatta. Vámadatta, the darling of his father, was instructed in all the sciences, and soon married a wife, of the name of Sasiprabhá. In course of time his father went to heaven, and his wife followed him, [158] and the son undertook with his wife the duties of a householder. But without his knowledge his wife was addicted to following her lusts, and by some chance or other she became a witch possessed of magical powers. [159] One day, when the Bráhman was in the king's camp, engaged in his service, his paternal uncle came and said to him in secret, "Nephew, our family is disgraced, for I have seen your wife in the company of your cowherd." When Vámadatta heard this, he left his uncle in the camp in his stead, and went, with his sword for his only companion, back to his own house. He went into the flower-garden and remained there in concealment, and in the night the cowherd came there. And immediately his wife came eagerly to meet her paramour, with all kinds of food in her hand. After he had eaten, she went off to bed with him, and then Vámadatta rushed upon them with uplifted sword, exclaiming, "Wretches, where are you going?" When he said that, his wife rose up and said, "Away fool," and threw some dust in his face. Then Vámadatta was immediately changed from a man into a buffalo, but in his new condition he still retained his memory. Then his wicked wife put him among the buffaloes, and made the herdsman beat him with sticks. [160] And the cruel woman immediately sold him in his helpless bestial condition to a trader, who required a buffalo. The trader put a load upon the man, who found his transformation to a buffalo a sore trial, and took him to a village near the Ganges. He reflected, "A wife of very bad character that enters unsuspected the house of a confiding man, is never likely to bring him prosperity, any more than a snake which gets into the female apartments." While full of these thoughts, he was sorrowful, with tears gushing from his eyes, moreover he was reduced to skin and bone by the fatigue of carrying burdens, and in this state he was beheld by a certain white witch. She knew by her magic power the whole transaction, and sprinkling him with some charmed water, she released him from his buffalo condition. And when he had returned to human form, she took him to her own house, and gave him her virgin daughter named Kántimatí. And she gave him some charmed mustard-seeds, and said to him; "Sprinkle your wicked former wife with these, and turn her into a mare." Then Vámadatta, taking with him his new wife, went with the charmed mustard-seeds to his own house. Then he killed the herdsman, and with the mustard-seeds he turned [161] his former wife into a mare, and tied her up in the stable. And in order to revenge himself, he made it a rule to give her every day seven blows with a stick, before he took any food. [162] One day, while he was living there in this way with Kántimatí, a guest came to his house. The guest had just sat down to his meal, when suddenly Vámadatta got up and rushed quickly out of the room without eating anything, because he recollected that he had not beaten his wicked wife with a stick that day. And after he had given his wife, in the form of a mare, the appointed number of blows, he came in with his mind easy, and took his food. Then the guest, being astonished, asked him, out of curiosity, where he had gone in such a hurry, leaving his food. Thereupon Vámadatta told him his whole story from the beginning, and his guest said to him, "What is the use of this persistent revenge? Petition that mother-in-law of yours, who first released you from your animal condition, and gain some advantage for yourself." When the guest gave this advice to Vámadatta, he approved it, and the next morning dismissed him with the usual attentions. Then that witch, his mother-in-law, suddenly paid him a visit, and he supplicated her persistently to grant him a boon. The powerful witch instructed him and his wife in the method of gaining the life-prolonging charm, with the proper initiatory rites. [163] So he went to the mountain of Srí and set about obtaining that charm, and the charm, when obtained, appeared to him in visible shape, and gave him a splendid sword. And when the successful Vámadatta had obtained the sword, he and his wife Kántimatí became glorious Vidyádharas. Then he built by his magic power a splendid city on a peak of the Malaya mountain, named Rajatakúta. There, in time, that prince among the Vidyádharas had born to him by his queen an auspicious daughter, named Lalitalochaná. And the moment she was born, she was declared by a voice, that came from heaven, to be destined to be the wife of the future emperor of the Vidyádharas. "Know, my husband, that I am that very Lalitalochaná, and that knowing the facts by my science and being in love with you, I have brought you to this very Malaya mountain, which is my own home." When she had in these words told him her story, Naraváhanadatta was much pleased, and entertained great respect for his new wife. And he remained there with her, and immediately the king of Vatsa and his entourage learnt the truth, by means of the supernatural knowledge of Ratnaprabhá, and the other wives of Naraváhanadatta that possessed the same powers. CHAPTER LXIX. Then Naraváhanadatta, having obtained that new bride Lalitalochaná, sported with her on that very Malaya mountain, delightful on account of the first burst of spring, in various forest purlieus adorned with flowering trees. And in one grove his beloved, in the course of gathering flowers, disappeared out of his sight into a dense thicket, and while he was wandering on, he saw a great tank with clear water, that, on account of the flowers fallen from the trees on its bank, resembled the heaven studded with stars. [164] And he thought--"I will wait until my beloved, who is gathering flowers, returns to me; and in the meanwhile I will bathe in this lake and rest for a little upon its bank." So he bathed and worshipped the gods, and then he sat down on a slab of rock in the shade of a sandal-wood tree. While sitting there he thought of his beloved Madanamanchuká, who was so far off, beholding the gait of the female swans that rivalled hers, and hearing the singing of the female cuckoos in the mango-creepers that equalled hers, and seeing the eyes of the does that recalled hers to his mind. And as soon as he recollected her, the fire of love sprang up in his breast, and tortured him so that he fainted; and at that moment a glorious hermit came there to bathe, whose name was Pisangajata. He, seeing the prince in such a state, sprinkled him with sandal-water, refreshing as the touch of his beloved. Then he recovered consciousness and bowed before the hermit. But the hermit said to him, "My son, in order that you may obtain your wish, acquire endurance. For by means of that quality every thing is acquired, and in order that you may understand this, come to my hermitage and hear the story of Mrigánkadatta, if you have not already heard it. When the hermit had said this, he bathed and took the prince to his hermitage, and quickly performed his daily prayers. And Pisangajata entertained him there with fruits, and ate fruits himself, and then he began to tell him this tale of Mrigánkadatta. Story of Mrigánkadatta. [165] There is a city of the name of Ayodhyá famous in the three worlds. In it there lived in old time a king named Amaradatta. He was of resplendent brightness, and he had a wife named Surataprabhá, who was as closely knit to him as the oblation to the fire. [166] By her there was born to him a son named Mrigánkadatta, who was adored for his ten million virtues, as his bow was bent by the string reaching the notches. [167] And that young prince had ten ministers of his own, Prachandasakti and Sthúlabáhu, and Vikramakesarin, Dridhamushti, and Meghabala and Bhímaparákrama, and Vimalabuddhi, and Vyághrasena and Gunákara, and the tenth Vichitrakatha. They were all of good birth, young, brave, and wise, and devoted to their master's interests. And Mrigánkadatta led a happy life with them in his father's house, but he did not obtain a suitable wife. And one day his minister Bhímaparákrama said to him in secret,--"Hear, prince, what happened to me in the night. I went to sleep last night on the roof of the palace, and I saw in a dream a lion, with claws terrible as the thunderbolt, rushing upon me. I rose up, sword in hand, and then the lion began to flee, and I pursued him at my utmost speed. He crossed a river, and stuck out his long tongue [168] at me, and I cut it off with my sword. And I made use of it to cross that river, for it was as broad as a bridge. And thereupon the lion became a deformed giant. I asked him who he was and the giant said, 'I am a Vetála, and I am delighted with your courage, my brave fellow.' Then I said to him, 'If this is the case, then tell me who is to be the wife of my master Mrigánkadatta.' When I said this to the Vetála, he answered,--'There is in Ujjayiní a king named Karmasena. He has a daughter, who in beauty surpasses the Apsarases, being, as it were, the receptacle of the Creator's handiwork in the form of loveliness. Her name is Sasánkavatí, and she shall be his wife, and by gaining her, he shall become king of the whole earth.' When the Vetála had said this, he disappeared, and I came home; this is what happened to me in the night, my sovereign." When Mrigánkadatta heard this from Bhímaparákrama, he summoned all his ministers, and had it told to them, and then he said, "Hear, what I too saw in a dream; I thought we all entered a certain wood; and in it, being thirsty with travelling, we reached with difficulty some water; and when we wished to drink it, five armed men rose up and tried to prevent us. We killed them, and then in the torments of our thirst we again turned to drink the water, but lo! neither the men nor the water were to be seen. Then we were in a miserable state; but on a sudden we saw the god Siva come there, mounted on his bull, resplendent with the moon on his forehead; we bent before him in prayer and he dropped from his right eye a tear-drop on the ground. That became a sea, and I drew from it a splendid pearl-necklace and fastened it round my neck. And I drank up that sea in a human skull stained with blood. And immediately I awoke, and lo! the night was at an end." When Mrigánkadatta had described this wonderful sight that he had seen in his dream, the other ministers rejoiced, but Vimalabuddhi said; "You are fortunate, prince, in that Siva has shewn you this favour. As you obtained the necklace and drank up the sea, you shall without fail obtain Sasánkavatí and rule the whole earth. But the rest of the dream indicates some slight amount of misfortune." When Vimalabuddhi had said this, Mrigánkadatta again said to his ministers, "Although the fulfilment of my dream will no doubt come to pass in the way which my friend Bhímaparákrama heard predicted by the Vetála, still I must win from that Karmasena, who confides in his army and his forts, his daughter Sasánkavatí by force of policy. And the force of policy is the best instrument in all undertakings. Now listen, I will tell you a story to prove this." Story of king Bhadrabáhu and his clever minister. There was a king in Magadha, named Bhadrabáhu. He had a minister named Mantragupta, most sagacious of men. That king once said of his own accord to that minister; "The king of Váránasí, named Dharmagopa, has a daughter named Anangalílá, the chief beauty of the three worlds. I have often asked for her in marriage, but out of hostility that king will not give her to me. And he is a formidable foe, on account of his possessing an elephant named Bhadradanta. Still I cannot bear to live any longer without that daughter of his. So I have no measure which I can adopt in this business. Tell me, my friend, what I am to do." When the king said this, his minister answered him; "Why, king, do you suppose that courage and not policy ensures success? Dismiss your anxiety; I will manage the matter for you by my own ingenuity." So, the next day, the minister set out for Váránasí, disguised as a Pásupata ascetic, and he took six or seven companions with him, who were disguised as his pupils, and they told all the people, who came together from all quarters to adore him, that he possessed supernatural powers. Then, as he was roaming about one night to find out some means of accomplishing his object, he saw in the distance the wife of the keeper of the elephants leave her house, going along quickly through fear, escorted in some direction or other by three or four armed men. He at once said to himself, "Surely this lady is eloping somewhere, so I will see where she is going." So he followed her with his attendants. And he observed from a distance the house into which she went, and then he returned to his own lodging. And the next day, as the elephant-keeper was wandering about in search of his wife, who had gone off with his wealth, the minister contrived to send his own followers to meet him. They found that he had just swallowed poison because he could not find his wife, and they counteracted by their knowledge the effect of the poison, pretending that they did it out of pure compassion. And they said to him; "Come to our teacher, for he is a seer and knows every thing:" and so they brought him to the minister. And the elephant-keeper fell at the feet of the minister, who was rendered more majestic by the insignia of his vow, and asked him for news of his wife. The minister pretended to meditate, and after a time told him the place where she was taken by the strange men at night, with all the signs by which he might recognise it. Then the elephant-keeper bowed again before him, and went with a host of policemen and surrounded that place. And he killed those wicked men who had carried off his wife, and recovered her, together with her ornaments and his wealth. And the next day he went and bowed before, and praised that supposed seer, and invited him to an entertainment. And as the minister did not wish to enter a house, and said that he must eat at night, he made an entertainment for him at nightfall in the elephant-stables. So the minister went there and feasted with his followers, taking with him a concealed serpent, that he had by means of a charm got to enter the hollow of a bamboo. Then the elephant-keeper went away, and while the others were asleep, the minister introduced, by means of the bamboo, the serpent into the ear of the elephant Bhadradanta, while it was asleep, and he spent the night there, and in the morning went back to Magadha his native land; but the elephant died from the bite of the snake. When the clever minister returned, having smitten down the elephant as if it were the pride of that king Dharmagopa, the king Bhadrabáhu was in ecstasies. Then he sent off an ambassador to Váránasí to ask for the hand of Anangalílá. The king, who was helpless from the loss of his elephant, gave her to him; for kings, who know times and seasons, bend like canes, if it is expedient to do so. "So, by the sagacity of that minister Mantragupta, the king Bhadrabáhu obtained Anangalílá. And in the same way I must obtain that wife by wisdom." When Mrigánkadatta said this, his minister Vichitrakatha said to him--"You will succeed in all by the favour of Siva which was promised you in a dream. What will not the effective favour of the gods accomplish? Hear in proof of it the story I am now going to tell." Story of Pushkaráksha and Vinayavatí. There was in the city of Takshasilá a king of the name of Bhadráksha. He, desiring a son, was worshipping Lakshmí every day with one hundred and eight white lotuses upon a sword. One day, as the king was worshipping her without breaking silence, he happened to count the lotuses mentally, and found that there was one missing. He then gave the goddess the lotus of his heart spitted on the sword, and she was pleased and granted him a boon that would ensure his having a son that would rule the whole earth. And she healed the wound of the king and disappeared. Then there was born a son to the king by his queen, and he possessed all the auspicious marks. And the king called him Pushkaráksha, because he obtained him by the gift of the lotus of his heart. And when the son, in course of time, grew up to manhood, Bhadráksha anointed him king, as he possessed great virtues, and himself repaired to the forest. Pushkaráksha, for his part, having obtained the kingdom, kept worshipping Siva every day, and one day at the end of his worship, he asked him to bestow on him a wife. Then he heard a voice come from heaven, saying, "My son, thou shalt obtain all thy desire." Then he remained in a happy state, as he had now a good hope of success. And it happened that one day he went to a wood inhabited by wild beasts, to amuse himself with hunting. There he saw a camel about to eat two snakes entwined together, and in his grief he killed the camel. The camel immediately became a Vidyádhara, abandoning its camel body, and being pleased said to Pushkaráksha "You have done me a benefit. So hear what I have to tell you." Story of the birth of Vinayavatí. There is, king, a mighty Vidyádhara named Rankumálin. And a beautiful maiden of the Vidyádhara race, named Tárávalí, who admired good looks, saw him and fell in love with him, and chose him for her husband. And then her father, angry because they had married without consulting anything but their own inclination, laid on them a curse that would separate them for some time. Then the couple, Tárávalí and Rankumálin, sported, with ever-growing love, in various regions belonging to them. But one day, in consequence of that curse, they lost sight of one another in a wood, and were separated. Then Tárávalí, in her search for her husband, at last reached a forest on the other side of the western sea, inhabited by a hermit of supernatural powers. There she saw a large jambu-tree in flower, which seemed compassionately to console her with the sweet buzzing of its bees. And she took the form of a bee, and sat down on it to rest, and began to drink the honey of a flower. And immediately she saw her husband, from whom she had been so long separated, come there, and she bedewed that flower with a tear of joy. And she abandoned the body of a bee, and went and united herself to her husband Rankumálin, who had come there in search of her, as the moonlight is united to the moon. Then she went with him to his home: but from the jambu-flower bedewed with her tear a fruit was produced. [169] And in course of time a maiden was produced inside the fruit. Now once on a time the hermit, who was named Vijitásu, was wandering about in search of fruits and roots, and came there, and that fruit, being ripe, fell from the jambu-tree and broke, and a heavenly maiden came out of it, and respectfully bowing, saluted the feet of that hermit. That hermit, who possessed divine insight, when he beheld her, at once knew her true history, and being astonished, took her to his hermitage, and gave her the name of Vinayavatí. Then in course of time she grew up to womanhood in his hermitage, and I, as I was roaming in the air, saw her, and being infatuated by pride in my own good looks and by love, I went to her, and tried to carry her off by force against her will. At that moment the hermit Vijitásu, who heard her cries, came in, and denounced this curse upon me, "O thou whose whole body is full of pride in thy beauty, become an ugly camel. But when thou shalt be slain by king Pushkaráksha, thou shalt be released from thy curse. And he shall be the husband of this Vinayavatí." "When cursed in these words by the hermit I became a camel on this earth, and now, thanks to you, my curse is at an end; so go to that forest on the other side of the western sea, named Surabhimáruta, and obtain for a wife that heavenly creature, who would make Srí herself lose all pride in her own beauty." When the heavenly Vidyádhara had said this to Pushkaráksha, he flew up to the sky. Then Pushkaráksha returned to his city, and entrusted his kingdom to his ministers, and mounting his horse, went off alone at night. And at last he reached the shore of the western sea, and there he reflected, "How shall I cross over this sea?" Then he saw there an empty temple of Durgá, and he entered it, and bathed, and worshipped the goddess. And he found there a lyre, which had been deposited there by some one, and he devoutly sang to it in honour of the goddess songs composed by himself. And then he lay down to sleep there. And the goddess was so pleased with his lyric worship, that in the night she had him conveyed across the sea by her attendant demons, while he was asleep. Then he woke up in the morning on the other side of the sea, and saw himself no longer in the temple of Durgá, but in a wood. And he rose up in astonishment, and wandered about, and beheld a hermitage, which seemed to bow before him hospitably by means of its trees weighed down with fruit, and to utter a welcome with the music of its birds. So he entered it, and saw a hermit surrounded by his pupils. And the king approached the hermit, and bowed at his feet. The hermit, who possessed supernatural insight, received him hospitably and said to him; "King Pushkaráksha, Vinayavatí, for whom you have come, has gone out for a moment to fetch firewood, so wait a little: you shall to-day marry her who was your wife in a former life." Then Pushkaráksha said to himself--"Bravo! this is that very hermit Vijitásu, and this is that very wood, no doubt the goddess has had me carried across the ocean. But this that the hermit tells me is strange, that she was my wife in a previous state of existence." Then he asked the hermit in his joy the following question, "Tell me, reverend sir, how was she my wife before?" Then the hermit said, "Listen, if you feel curious on the point." The adventures of Pushkaráksha and Vinayavatí in a former life. There was in old time a merchant in Támraliptí, named Dharmasena, and he had a beautiful wife named Vidyullekhá. As it happened, he was robbed by bandits and wounded with weapons by them, and longing for death, he went out with his wife to enter the fire. And the two saw suddenly a beautiful couple of swans coming through the air. Then they entered the fire, and died with their minds fixed on those swans, and so the husband and wife were born in the next birth as swans. Now, one day in the rains, as they were in their nest in a date-palm-tree, a storm uprooted the tree and separated them. The next day the storm was at an end, and the male swan went to look for his female, but he could not find her in the lakes or in any quarter of the sky. At last he went, distracted with love, to the Mánasa lake, the proper place for swans at that season of the year, and another female swan, that he met on the way, gave him hopes that he would find her there. There he found his female, and he spent the rainy season there, and then he went to a mountain-peak to enjoy himself with her. There his female was shot by a fowler; when he saw that, he flew away distracted with fear and grief. The fowler went off, taking with him the dead female swan, and on the way he saw many armed men at a distance, coming towards him, and he thought that they would perhaps take the bird from him, so he cut some grass with his knife, and covering up the bird with that, left her on the ground. After the men had gone, the fowler returned to take the female swan. But it happened that among the grass which he had cut was a herb, which possessed the power of raising the dead to life. By means of the juice of this herb the female swan was restored to life, [170] and before his eyes she flung off the grass, and flew up into the sky, and disappeared. But in the meanwhile the male swan went and settled on the shore of a lake among a flock of swans, distracted with grief at seeing his mate in this state. [171] Immediately a certain fisherman threw a net, and caught all those birds, and thereupon sat down to take his food. Then the female swan came there in search of her husband, and found him caught in the net, and in her grief she cast her eyes in every direction. Then she saw on the bank of the lake a necklace of gems, which a certain person, who had gone into the water to bathe, had laid on top of his clothes. She went and carried off the necklace without that person seeing her do it, and she flew gently through the air past the fisherman, to shew him the necklace. The fisherman, when he saw the female swan with the necklace in her beak, left the net full of birds, and ran after her, stick in hand. But the female swan deposited the necklace upon the top of a distant rock, and the fisherman proceeded to climb up the rock to get the necklace. When the female swan saw that, she went and struck in the eye with her beak a monkey that was asleep on a tree, near where her husband lay caught in the net. The monkey, being terrified by the blow, fell on the net and tore it, and so all the swans escaped from it. Then the couple of swans were re-united, and they told one another their adventures, and in their joy amused themselves as they would. The fisherman, after getting the necklace, came back to fetch the birds, and the man whose necklace had been taken away, met him as he was looking for it, and as the fact of the fisherman's being in possession of the necklace was revealed by his fear, he recovered it from him and cut off his right hand with his sword. And the two swans, sheltering themselves under one lotus by way of umbrella, rose up in the middle of the day from the lake and roamed in the sky. And soon the two birds reached the bank of a river haunted by a certain hermit, who was employed in worshipping Siva. Then the couple of swans were shot through with one arrow by a fowler, as they were flying along, and fell together to the earth. And the lotus, which they had used as an umbrella, fell on the top of a linga of Siva, while the hermit was engaged in worship. Then the fowler, seeing them, took the male swan for himself, and gave the female swan to the hermit, who offered it to Siva. [172] "Now you, Pushkaráksha, were that very male swan; and by the virtue of that lotus, which fell on the top of the linga, you have been now born in a royal family. And that female swan has been born in a family of Vidyádharas as Vinayavatí, for Siva was abundantly worshipped with her flesh. Thus Vinayavatí was your wife in a former birth." When the hermit Vijitásu said this to Pushkaráksha, the king asked him another question; How comes it, hermit, that the entering the fire, which atones for a multitude of sins, produced in our case the fruit of birth in the nature of a bird? Thereupon the hermit replied, "A creature receives the form of that which it was contemplating at the moment of death." Story of Lávanyamanjarí. For there was in the city of Ujjayiní a holy Bráhman virgin of the name of Lávanyamanjarí, who observed a vow of perpetual chastity; she once saw a Bráhman youth of the name of Kamalodaya, and her mind was suddenly attracted to him, and she was consumed with the fire of love but she did not abandon her vow. She went to the shore of the Gandhavatí, and abandoned her life in a holy place, with her thoughts intently fixed on his love. But on account of that intent meditation she was born in the next birth as a hetæra, of the name of Rúpavatí, in a town named Ekalavyá. However, owing to the virtue of her vow and of the holy bathing-place, she remembered her former birth, and in conversation she related that secret of her former birth to a Bráhman named Chodakarna, who was always engaged in muttering prayers, in order to cure him of his exclusive devotion to muttering, and at last, though she was a hetæra, as her will was purified she attained blessedness. "So, king, you see that a person attains similarity to that which he thinks of. Having said this to the king, the hermit dismissed him to bathe, and he himself performed his midday ablutions." But the king Pushkaráksha went to the bank of the river, that flowed through the forest, and saw Vinayavatí there gathering flowers. Her body gleamed as if she were the light of the sun, come to visit the wood out of curiosity, as it had never been able to penetrate its thickets. He thought to himself, "Who can this be?" And she, as she was sitting in conversation with her maid, said to her; "My friend, the Vidyádhara, who wished long ago to carry me off, came here to-day released from his curse, and announced the arrival of my husband." When the friend heard that, she answered the hermit-maiden; "It is true, for this morning the hermit Vijitásu said to his pupil Munjakesa; 'Go and bring here quickly Tárávalí and Rankumálin, for to-day will certainly take place the marriage of their daughter Vinayavatí to king Pushkaráksha.' When Munjakesa received this order from his teacher, he said, 'I obey,' and started on his journey. So come, my friend, let us now go to the hermitage." When she said this, Vinayavatí departed, and Pushkaráksha heard the whole conversation from a distance without being seen. And the king returned quickly to the hermitage of Vijitásu, after he had plunged in the river, as if to cool the burning heat of love. There Tárávalí and Rankumálin, who had arrived, honoured him when he bent before them, and the hermits gathered round him. Then, on an altar-platform illuminated by the great hermit Vijitásu with his austerities, as if by a second fire in human form, Rankumálin gave that Vinayavatí to the king, and he bestowed on him at the same time a heavenly chariot, that would travel in the sky. And the great hermit Vijitásu conferred on him this boon; "Rule, together with her, the earth with its four seas." Then, with the permission of the hermit, the king Pushkaráksha took his new wife with him, and mounted that heavenly chariot that travelled through the air, and, crossing the sea, went quickly to his own city, being like the rising of the moon to the eyes of his subjects. And then he conquered the earth and became emperor of it by virtue of his chariot, and lived a long time in enjoyment with Vinayavatí in his own capital. "So a task, which is very difficult in itself, succeeds in this world, if the gods are propitious, and so, king, you may be certain that your enterprise also will succeed soon by the favour of the god Siva, promised you in a dream." When Mrigánkadatta had heard this romantic story from his minister, being very eager to obtain Sasánkavatí, he made up his mind to go to Ujjayiní with his ministers. CHAPTER LXX. Accordingly Mrigánkadatta, being desirous to obtain Sasánkavatí the daughter of king Karmasena, who had been described by the Vetála, planned with his ministers to leave his city secretly, disguised as a Pásupata ascetic, in order to travel to Ujjayiní. And the prince himself directed his minister Bhímaparákrama to bring the necessary staves like bed-posts, the skulls, and so on. And the head minister of the king his father found out, by means of a spy, that Bhímaparákrama had collected all these things in his house. And at that time it happened that Mrigánkadatta, while walking about on the top of his palace, spit down some betel-juice. And as ill-luck would have it, it fell on the head of his father's minister, who happened to be walking below, unseen by the prince. [173] But the minister, knowing that Mrigánkadatta had spit down that betel-juice, bathed, and laid up in his heart a grudge against Mrigánkadatta on account of the insult. Now it happened that the next day king Amaradatta, the father of Mrigánkadatta, had an attack of cholera, and then the minister saw his chance, and, after imploring an assurance of safety, he said in secret to the king, who was tortured with his sudden attack of disease, "The fact is, my sovereign, your son Mrigánkadatta has begun incantations against you in the house of Bhímaparákrama, that is why you are suffering. I found it out by means of a spy, and the thing is obvious for all to see, so banish your son from your realm and your disease from your body at the same time." When the king heard that, he was terrified, and sent his own general to the house of Bhímaparákrama, to investigate the matter. And he found the hair, and the skulls, and other articles, [174] and immediately brought those very things and shewed them to the king. And the king in his anger said to the general, "That son of mine is conspiring against me, because he wishes to reign himself, so expel him from the kingdom this very moment without delay, together with his ministers." For a confiding [175] king never sees through the wicked practices of his ministers. So the general went and communicated that order of the king's, and expelled Mrigánkadatta from the city, together with his ministers. [176] Then Mrigánkadatta was delighted at having obtained his object, and he worshipped Ganesa, and mentally took a humble leave of his parents, and started off. And after they had gone a great distance from the town of Ayodhyá, the prince said to Prachandasakti and the other nine ministers who were travelling with him, "There is here a great king of the Kirátas, named Saktirakshita; he is a student in the sciences, observing a vow of chastity, and he is a friend of mine from childhood. For, when his father was long ago captured in battle, he sent him here to be imprisoned as a substitute for himself, in order to obtain his own release. And when his father died, his relations by the father's side rose against him, and at my instigation my father established him on the throne of his father with a military force. So let us go to him, my friends, and then we will travel on to Ujjayiní, to find that Sasánkavatí." When he said this, all the ministers exclaimed, "So be it," and he set out with them and reached in the evening a great wilderness. It was devoid of trees and water, and it was with difficulty that at last he found a tank, with one withered tree growing upon its banks. There he performed the evening ceremonies, and drank water, and being fatigued, he went to sleep with his ministers under that dry tree. And in the night, which was illuminated by the moon, he woke up, and saw that the tree first put forth abundance of leaves, then of flowers, then of fruit. And when he saw its ripe fruit falling, he immediately woke up his ministers, and pointed out that marvel to them. Then they were astonished, and as they were hungry, he and they ate the delicious fruits of that tree together, and after they had eaten them, the dry tree suddenly became a young Bráhman, before the eyes of them all. And when Mrigánkadatta questioned him, he told his tale in the following words. Story of Srutadhi. There was an excellent Bráhman in Ayodhyá named Dámadhi. I am his son, and my name is Srutadhi. And once in a time of famine he was wandering about with me, and he reached this place almost dead. Here he got five fruits which some one gave him, and though he was exhausted with hunger, he gave three to me, and set aside two for himself. Then he went into the water of the lake to bathe, and in the meanwhile I ate all the five fruits, and pretended to be asleep. He returned after bathing, and beholding me cunningly lying here as motionless as a log, he cursed me, saving, "Become a dry tree here on the bank of the lake. And on moonlight nights flowers and fruit shall spring from you, and when once on a time you shall have refreshed guests with fruits, you shall be delivered from your curse." [177] As soon as my father had pronounced this curse on me, I became a dry tree, but now that you have tasted my fruit, I have been delivered from the curse, after enduring it for a long time. After Srutadhi had related his own history, he asked Mrigánkadatta for his, and he told it him. Then Srutadhi, who had no relations, and was well-read in policy, asked Mrigánkadatta to permit him, as a favour, to attach himself to his service. So, after he had spent the night in this way, Mrigánkadatta set out next morning with his ministers. And in the course of his journey he came to a forest named Karimandita. There he saw five wild looking men with long hair, who aroused his wonder. Then the five men came and respectfully addressed him as follows: "We were born in the city of Kásí as Bráhmans who lived by keeping cows. And during a famine we came from that country, where the grass was scorched by drought, with our cows, to this wood which abounds in grass. And here we found an elixir in the form of the water of a tank, continually flavoured with the three kinds of fruits [178] that drop from the trees growing on its bank. And five hundred years have passed over our heads in this uninhabited wood, while we have been drinking this water and the milk of cows. It is thus, prince, that we have become such as you see, and now destiny has sent you to us as guests, so come to our hermitage." When thus invited by them, Mrigánkadatta went with them to their hermitage, taking his companions with him, and spent the day there living on milk. And he set out from it in the morning, and in course of time he reached the country of the Kirátas, seeing other wonderful sights on the way. And he sent on Srutadhi to inform his friend Saktirakshita, the king of the Kirátas, of his arrival. When the sovereign of the Kirátas heard of it, he went to meet Mrigánkadatta with great courtesy, and conducted him with his ministers into his city. Mrigánkadatta told him the cause of his arrival, and remained there for some days, being entertained by him. And the prince arranged that Saktirakshita should be ready to assist him in his undertaking when the proper time came, and then he set out, on an auspicious day, for Ujjayiní, with his eleven companions, having been captivated by Sasánkavatí. And as he went along, he reached an uninhabited forest and saw standing under a tree an ascetic, with ashes on his body, a deer-skin, and matted hair. So he went up to him, with his followers, and said to him; "Reverend sir, why do you live alone in this forest in which there is no hermitage?" Then the hermit answered him, "I am a pupil of the great sage named Suddhakírti and I know innumerable spells. Once on a time I got hold of a certain Kshatriya boy with auspicious marks, and I exerted all my diligence to cause him to be possessed, while alive, by a spirit, and, when the boy was possessed, I questioned him, and he told me of many places for potent drugs and liquors, and then said this; 'There is in this Vindhya forest in the northern quarter a solitary asoka-tree, and under it there is a great palace of a snake-king. [179] In the middle of the day its water is concealed with moistened dust, but it can be discovered by the couples of swans sporting there together with the water-cranes. [180] There dwells a mighty chief of the snakes, named Párávatáksha, and he obtained a matchless sword from the war of the gods and Asuras, named Vaidúryakánti; whatever man obtains that sword will become a chief of the Siddhas and roam about unconquered, and that sword can only be obtained by the aid of heroes.' When the possessed boy had said this, I dismissed him. So I have wandered about over the earth desirous to obtain that sword, and caring for nothing else, but, as I have not been able to find men to help me, in disgust I have come here to die." When Mrigánkadatta heard the ascetic say this, he said to him, "I and my ministers will help you." The ascetic gladly accepted his offer, and went with him and his followers, by the help of an ointment rubbed on the feet, to the dwelling-place of that snake. There he found the sign by which it could be recognised, and he placed there at night Mrigánkadatta and his companions, duly initiated, fixed with spells; and throwing enchanted mustard-seed he cleared the water from dust, and began to offer an oblation with snake-subduing spells. And he conquered by the power of his spells the impediments, such as earthquakes, clouds, and so on. Then there came out from that asoka-tree a heavenly nymph, as it were, murmuring spells with the tinkling of her jewelled ornaments, and approaching the ascetic she pierced his soul with a sidelong glance of love. And then the ascetic lost his self-command and forgot his spells; and the shapely fair one, embracing him, flung from his hand the vessel of oblation. And then the snake Párávatáksha had gained his opportunity, and he came out from that palace like the dense cloud of the day of doom. Then the heavenly nymph vanished, and the ascetic beholding the snake terrible with flaming eyes, roaring horribly, died of a broken heart. When he was destroyed, the snake laid aside his awful form, and cursed Mrigánkadatta and his followers, for helping the ascetic, in the following words, "Since you did what was quite unnecessary after all coming here with this man, you shall be for a certain time separated from one another." Then the snake disappeared, and all of them at the same time had their eyes dimmed with darkness, and were deprived of the power of hearing sounds. And they immediately went in different directions, separated from one another by the power of the curse, though they kept looking for one another and calling to one another. And when the delusion of the night was at an end, Mrigánkadatta found himself roaming about in the wood without his ministers. And, after two or three months had passed, the Bráhman Srutadhi, who was looking for him, suddenly fell in with him. Mrigánkadatta received him kindly, and asked for news of his ministers, whereupon Srutadhi fell at his feet weeping, and consoled him, and said to him, "I have not seen them, prince, but I know they will go to Ujjayiní, for that is the place we all have to go to." With these and similar speeches he urged the prince to go there, so Mrigánkadatta set out with him slowly for Ujjayiní. And after he had journeyed a few days, he found his own minister Vimalabuddhi who suddenly came that way. When the minister saw him, he bowed before him with eyes filled with tears at seeing him, and the prince embraced him, and making him sit down, he asked him for tidings of the other ministers. Then Vimalabuddhi said to that prince, who was so beloved by his servants, "I do not know, king, where each of them has gone in consequence of the curse of the snake. But hear how I know that you will find them again." The adventures of Vimalabuddhi after he was separated from the prince. When the snake cursed me, I was carried far away by the curse, and wandered in the eastern part of the forest. And being fatigued, I was taken by a certain kind person to the hermitage of a certain hermit, named Brahmadandin. There my fatigue was removed by the fruits and water which the sage gave me, and, roaming away far from the hermitage, I saw a vast cave. I entered it out of curiosity, and I saw inside it a palace made of jewels, and I began to look into the palace through the lattice-windows. And lo! there was in it a woman causing to revolve a wheel with bees, and those bees made some of them for a bull, and others for a donkey, both which creatures were standing there. And some drank the foam of milk sent forth by the bull, and others the foam of blood sent forth by the donkey, and became white and black, according to the colour of the two objects on which they settled; and then they all turned into spiders. And the spiders, which were of two different colours, made two different-coloured webs with their excrements. And one set of webs was hung on wholesome flowers, and the other on poisonous flowers. And the spiders, that were clinging to those webs as they pleased, were bitten by a great snake which came there, having two mouths, one white, and the other black. Then the woman put them in various pitchers, but they got out again, and began to occupy the same webs again respectively. Then those, that were on the webs attached to the poisonous flowers, began to cry out, owing to the violence of the poison. And thereupon the others, that were on the other webs, began to cry out also. But the noise interrupted the meditation of a certain merciful ascetic who was there, who discharged fire at the webs. Then the webs, in which the spiders were entangled, were burnt up, and the spiders entered a hollow coral rod, and disappeared in a gleaming light at the top of it. In the meanwhile the woman disappeared with her wheel, her bull, and her donkey. When I had seen this, I continued to roam about there in a state of astonishment; and then I saw a charming lake, which seemed by means of its lotuses, round which bees hummed, to summon me thither to look at it. And while I sat on the bank and looked at it, I beheld a great wood inside the water, and in the wood was a hunter, and the hunter had got hold of a lion's cub with ten arms which he brought up, and then banished from the wood in anger, on the ground that it was disobedient. [181] The lion then heard the voice of a lioness in a neighbouring wood, and was going in the direction of the sound, when his ten arms were scattered by a whirlwind. Then a man with a protuberant belly came and restored his arms as they were before, and he went to that forest in search of the lioness. He endured for her sake much hardship in that other forest, and at last obtained her whom he had had for a wife in a former state, and with her returned to his own forest. And when the hunter saw that lion return with his mate to the forest, which was his hereditary abode, [182] he resigned it to him and departed. When I had seen this, I returned to the hermitage and described both those very wonderful spectacles to Brahmadandin. And that hermit, who knows the past, present, and future, kindly said to me, "You are fortunate; Siva has shewn you all this by way of favour. That woman, whom you saw, is Illusion, and the wheel which she caused to revolve, is the wheel of mundane existence, and the bees are living creatures. And the bull and the donkey are respectively symbols of Righteousness and Unrighteousness, and the foam of milk and the foam of blood discharged by them, to which the bees repaired, are typical of good and evil actions. And they acquired properties arising from the things on which they respectively settled, and became spiders of two kinds, white and foul respectively; and then with their energy, which was symbolized by excrement, they produced entangling nets of two kinds, such as offspring and so on, which were attached to wholesome and poisonous flowers, which signify happiness and misery. And while clinging each to its own web, they were bitten by a snake, typical of Death, with its two mouths, the white set with the white mouth symbolical of good fortune, the other with the black mouth symbolical of evil fortune. Then that female, typifying Illusion [183] plunged them into various wombs typified by the jars, and they again emerged from them, and assuming forms white and black, corresponding to what they had before, they fell into entangling webs, which are symbolical of sons and other worldly connexions, resulting in happiness and misery. Then the black spiders, entangled in their webs, being tortured by the poison, symbolical of pain, began in their affliction to invoke the supreme lord as their help. When the white spiders, who were in their own webs, perceived that, they also became averse to their state, and began to invoke that same lord. Then the god, who was present in the form of an ascetic, awoke from his trance, and consumed all their entangling webs with the fire of knowledge. Accordingly they ascended into the bright coral tube, typical of the orb of the sun, and reached the highest home, which lies above it. And then Illusion vanished, with the revolving wheel of births, and with her ox, and her ass, typical of Righteousness and Unrighteousness. Even thus in the circle of existence revolve creatures, fair and foul according to their actions, and they are liberated by propitiating Siva; and this spectacle has been shown to you by Siva to teach you this lesson, and to put an end to your delusion. As for that sight which you saw in the water of the tank, this is the explanation of it. The holy god produced this apparent reflection in the water, in order to teach you what was destined to befall Mrigánkadatta. For he may be compared to a young lion-whelp, and he was brought up with ten ministers round him resembling ten arms, and he was banished in anger by his father, (typified by the hunter) from his native land, typified by the forest: and on hearing the report of Sasánkavatí, (who may be compared to a lioness,) coming from the land of Avanti, (symbolized by the other wood, [184]) he made towards her, and the wind which stripped him of his arms is the curse of the snake, which separated him from his ministers. Then Vináyaka [185] appeared as a man with a pendulous belly, and restored to him his arms, (that is to say, his ministers,) and so he recovered his former condition. Then he went and after enduring great hardship, obtained from another place the lioness, (that is Sasánkavatí,) and returned. And when the hunter, (that is his father,) saw him coming near with his wife, having swept away the obstacles which his foes put in his way, [186] he resigned to him the whole of his forest, (that is his kingdom,) and retired to a grove of ascetics. Thus has Siva shewn you the future as if it had already taken place. So you may be sure, your master will recover you, his ministers, and obtain his wife and his kingdom." When the excellent hermit had thus instructed me, I recovered hope and left that hermitage, and travelling along slowly I have met you here, prince, to-day. So you may rest assured, prince, that you will recover Prachandasakti, and your other ministers, and gain your object; you certainly gained the favour of Ganesa by worshipping him before you set out. When Mrigánkadatta had listened for a while to this strange story of Vimalabuddhi's, he was much pleased, and after he had again deliberated with him, he set out for the city of Avanti, with the double object of accomplishing his enterprise and recovering his other ministers. CHAPTER LXXI. Then, as Mrigánkadatta was journeying to Ujjayiní, with Srutadhi and Vimalabuddhi, to find Sasánkavatí, he reached the Narmadá which lay in his path. The fickle stream, when she beheld him, shook her waves like twining arms, and gleamed white with laughing foam, as if she were dancing and smiling because he had so fortunately been reunited with his ministers. And when he had gone down into the bed of the river to bathe, it happened that a king of the Savaras, named Máyávatu, came there for the same purpose. When he had bathed, three water-genii [187] rose up at the same time and seized the Bhilla, whose retinue fled in terror. When Mrigánkadatta saw that, he went into the water with his sword drawn, and killed those water-genii, and delivered that king of the Bhillas. When the king of the Bhillas was delivered from the danger of those monsters, he came up out of the water and fell at the feet of the prince, and said to him,--"Who are you, that Providence has brought here to save my life on the present occasion? Of what virtuous father do you adorn the family? And what is that country favoured by fortune to which you are going?" When he said this, Srutadhi told him the prince's whole story from the beginning, and then the Savara king shewed him exceeding respect, and said to him; "Then I will be your ally in this undertaking which you have in view, as you were directed by the god, and with me will come my friend Durgapisácha the king of Mátangas. So do me the favour, my lord, of coming to my palace, since I am your slave." Thus he entreated Mrigánkadatta with various humble speeches, and then took him to his own village. And there he entertained the prince fittingly with all the luxuries he could command, and all the people of the village shewed him respect. And the king of the Mátangas came and honoured him as the saviour of his friend's life, and placed his head on the ground to shew that he was his slave. Then Mrigánkadatta remained there some days, to please that Máyávatu, the king of the Bhillas. And one day, while he was staying there, that king of the Savaras began to gamble with Chandaketu his own warder. And while he was playing, the clouds began to roar, and the domestic peacocks lifted up their heads and began to dance, and king Máyávatu rose up to look at them. Then the warder, who was an enthusiastic gambler, said to his sovereign, "What is the use, my master, of looking at these peacocks which are not skilled in dancing? I have a peacock in my house, to which you would not find an equal in the world. I will show it you to-morrow, if you take pleasure in such things." When the king heard that, he said to the warder, "You must certainly shew it to me," and then he set about the duties of the day. And Mrigánkadatta, when he heard all that, rose up with his companions, and performed his duties such as bathing and eating. The adventures of Mrigánkadatta and the warder. And when the night came, and thick darkness was diffused over the face of things, the prince went out alone and self-impelled from the chamber in which his companions were sleeping, in search of adventures, with his body smeared with musk, wearing dark-blue garments and with his sword in his hand. And as he was roaming about, a certain man, who was coming along the road and did not see him on account of the darkness, jostled against him, and struck his shoulder against his. Then he rushed at him angrily and challenged him to fight. But the person challenged, being a man not easily abashed, made an appropriate reply, "Why are you perplexed by want of reflection? If you reflect, you will see that you ought to blame the moon for not lighting up this night, or the Governor of the world for not appointing that it should rule with full sway here, [188] since in such darkness causeless quarrels take place." Mrigánkadatta was pleased with this clever answer and he said to him, "You are right. Who are you?" The man answered, "I am a thief." Whereupon the prince said falsely, "Give me your hand, you are of the same profession as myself." And the prince made an alliance with him, and went along with him out of curiosity, and at last reached an old well covered with grass. And there the man entered a tunnel, and Mrigánkadatta went along it with him, and reached the harem of that king Máyávatu. And when he got there, he recognized the man by the light of the lamp, and lo! it was the warder Chandaketu, and not a robber. But the warder, who was the secret paramour of the king's wife, did not recognize the prince, because he had other garments on than those he usually wore, [189] and kept in a corner where there was not much light. But the moment the warder arrived, the king's wife, who was named Manjumatí, and was desperately in love with him, rose up and threw her arms round his neck. And she made him sit down on a sofa, and said to him, "Who is this man that you have brought here to-day?" Then he said to her, "Make your mind easy, it is a friend of mine." But Manjumatí said excitedly, "How can I, ill-starred woman that I am, feel at ease, now that this king has been saved by Mrigánkadatta, after entering the very jaws of death?" When the warder heard her say that, he answered, "Do not grieve, my dear! I will soon kill the king and Mrigánkadatta too." When he said this, she answered, as fate would have it, "Why do you boast? When the king was seized that day by monsters in the water of the Narmadá, Mrigánkadatta alone was ready to rescue him; why did you not kill him then? The fact is, you fled in fear. So be silent, lest some one hear this speech of yours, and then you would certainly meet with calamity at the hands of Mrigánkadatta, who is a brave man." When she said this, her paramour the warder lost his temper with her. He said, "Wretched woman, you are certainly in love with Mrigánkadatta, so receive now from me the just recompense of that taunt." And he rose up to kill her, dagger in hand. Then a maid, who was her confidante, ran and laid hold of the dagger with her hand and held it. In the meanwhile Manjumatí escaped into another room. And the warder dragged the dagger out of the maid's hand, cutting her fingers in the process; and returned home by the way which he came, somewhat confused, with Mrigánkadatta, who was much astonished. Then Mrigánkadatta, who could not be recognized in the darkness, said to the warder, "You have reached your own house, so I will leave you." But the warder said to the prince, "Sleep here to-night, without going further, for you are very tired." Then the prince consented, as he wished to learn something of his goings on; and the warder called one of his servants and said to him, "Take this man to the room where the peacock is, and let him rest there and give him a bed." The servant said--"I will do as you command," and took the prince to the room and placed a light in it, and gave him a bed. He then departed, fastening the outer door with a chain, and Mrigánkadatta saw the peacock there in a cage. He said to himself, "This is the very peacock, that the warder was speaking of," and out of curiosity he opened its cage. And the peacock came out and, after looking intently at Mrigánkadatta, it fell down and rolled at his feet again and again. And as it was rolling, the prince saw a string tied round its neck and at once untied it, thinking that it gave the bird pain. The peacock, the moment that the thread was loosed from its neck, became before his eyes his minister Bhímaparákrama. Then Mrigánkadatta embraced the affectionate minister, who bowed before him, and in his astonishment said to him, "Tell me, friend, what is the meaning of this?" Then Bhímaparákrama said to him in his delight, "Listen, prince, I will tell you my story from the beginning." The adventures of Bhímaparákrama after his separation from the prince. When I was separated from you by the curse of the Nága, I wandered about in the wood until I reached a salmali tree. [190] And I saw an image representing Ganesa carved in the tree, which I worshipped, and then I sat down at the foot of the tree being tired, and I said to myself, "All this mischief has been brought about by me, by telling my master that time the incident of the Vetála which took place at night. So I will abandon here this my sinful body." In this frame of mind I remained there, fasting, in front of the god. And after some days an old traveller came that way, and sat in the shade of that tree. And the good man, seeing me, questioned me with much persistence, saying, "Why do you remain in this solitary place, my son, with such a downcast face?" Then I told him my story, exactly as it took place, and the old traveller kindly said to me, to encourage me; "Why, being a man, are you killing yourself like a woman? Moreover, even women do not lose their courage in calamity; hear the following tale in proof of it." Story of Kamalákara and Hansávalí. In the city of Kosala there was a king, named Vimalákara, and he had a son named Kamalákara, who was made by the Creator admirable in respect of the qualities of courage, beauty and generosity, as if to outdo Skanda, Kandarpa, and the wishing-tree of heaven. Then one day a bard, whom he had known before, came and recited a certain stanza in the presence of that prince, who deserved to be praised by bards in all the regions of the world. "Where can the row of swans [191] obtain satisfaction, until it reaches the lotus-bed, [192] round which sings a host of many noisy birds [193] delighted at obtaining the lotus-flower [194]?" When the bard, named Manorathasiddhi, had frequently recited this stanza, prince Kamalákara questioned him, and he said to him: "Prince, as I was roaming about, I reached the city of king Meghamálin, named Vidisá, the pleasure-ground of the goddess of prosperity. There I was staying in the house of a professor of singing, named Dardura, and one day he happened to say to me, 'To-morrow the daughter of the king, named Hansávalí, will exhibit in his presence her skill in dancing, which she has lately been taught.' When I heard that, I was filled with curiosity, and managed to enter the king's palace with him the following day, and went into the dancing-hall. There I saw the slender-waisted princess Hansávalí dancing before her father, to the music of a great tabor, looking like a creeper of the tree of Love agitated by the wind of youth, shaking her ornaments like flowers, curving her hand like a shoot. Then I thought, 'There is no one fitted to be the husband of this fawn-eyed one, except the prince Kamalákara; so, if she, being such, is not joined to him, why has the god of love taken the trouble of stringing his bow of flowers thus fruitlessly? So I will adopt some expedient in this matter.' Thus minded I went, after I had seen the spectacle, to the door of the king's court, and I put up a notice with this inscription on it; 'If there is any painter here, who is a match for me, let him paint a picture.' When no one else dared to tear it down, the king coming to hear of it, appointed me to paint his daughter's bower. Then I painted you and your servants, prince Kamalákara, on the wall of the bower of that Hansávalí. "I thought to myself, 'If I declare the matter openly, she will know that I am scheming, so I will let the princess know it by means of an artifice.' So I persuaded a handsome fellow, who was an intimate friend of mine, to come near the palace, and pretend to be mad, and I arranged with him beforehand how he was to behave. Now he was seen a long way off by the princes, as he was roaming about singing and dancing, and they had him brought into their presence to make game of him. Then Hansávalí saw him, and had him brought by way of a joke into her bower, and, when he saw the picture of you, which I had painted there, he began to praise you, saying, 'I am fortunate in beholding this Kamalákara, who is, like Vishnu, an endless store of virtues, with his hand marked with the lotus and conch, the object of the favour of the goddess of Fortune.' When the princess heard him singing such songs, as he danced, she said to me, 'What does this fellow mean? Who is it that you have painted here?' When she asked me this persistently, I said, 'This mad fellow must have previously seen this prince, whom I have painted here out of regard for his beauty.' And then I told her your name, and described to her your good qualities. Then the young tree of passion grew up in the heart of Hansávalí, which was irrigated by the overflowing streams of gushing love for you. Then the king her father came and saw what was going on, and in wrath had the pretended madman, who was dancing, and myself, both turned out of doors. After that she pined away day by day with longing, and was reduced to such a state that, like a streak of the moon during the wane, she had only her beauty left. And on the pretence of illness she went to a temple of Vishnu that dispels calamity, and so managed to live a solitary life by the permission of her father. And being unable to sleep, owing to thinking on you, she could not endure the cruel moonlight, and remained there ignorant of the changes of day and night. Then she saw me one day from a window, as I was entering there, and she summoned me, and honoured me respectfully with dresses and ornaments. [195] And then I went out, and saw this stanza which I have repeated to you written on the border of a garment that she had given me: hear it again; 'Where can the row of swans obtain satisfaction, until it reaches the lotus-bed, round which sings a host of many noisy birds delighted at obtaining the lotus-flower.' And when I read it, I knew for certain how she felt towards you, and I came here to inform you and recited the stanza in your presence, and here is the garment on which she wrote the stanza." When Kamalákara heard the speech of the bard, and saw the stanza, he joyed exceedingly, thinking on Hansávalí, who had entered his heart, he knew not whether by eye or ear. Now it happened that, while he was thinking with eager longing about the best means of obtaining this princess, his father summoned him and said to him; "My son, unenterprising kings perish like snakes arrested by a charm, and how can kings rise up again when they have once perished? But you have been addicted to pleasures, and up to the present time you have not been visited by any longing for conquest; so arouse yourself, and fling off sloth; advance and conquer that enemy of mine the king of Anga, who has left his own country on an enterprise against me, and I will remain at home. When the brave Kamalákara heard this, he agreed to undertake the enterprise, being desirous of marching towards the country of his beloved. Then he set out with the forces which his father assigned him, making the earth and the hearts of his enemies tremble. And he reached in a few marches the army of the king of Anga, and when that prince turned round to make a counter-attack, he fought with him. And the brave hero drank up his army, as Agastya did the water of the sea, and being victorious, captured the king alive. And he sent that enemy in chains to his father, committing him to the care of the principal warder in accordance with a letter, which he sent with him. But he commissioned the warder to give the following message by word of mouth to the king, "I now leave this place, my father, to conquer other enemies." So he went on conquering other enemies, and with his army augmented by their forces, he at last arrived in the vicinity of the city of Vidisá. And encamping there he sent an ambassador to Meghamálin the father of Hansávalí, to ask for her in marriage. When that king learnt from the ambassador that he had come, not as an enemy, but for the sake of his daughter, he paid a friendly visit to him in person. The prince welcomed him; and Meghamálin, after he had complimented the prince, said to him, "Why did you take the trouble of coming in person about a business which might have been negotiated by an ambassador? For I desire this marriage; hear the reason. Seeing that this Hansávalí was even in her childhood devoted to the worship of Vishnu, and that she had a frame delicate as a sirísha, I became anxious about her, and kept saying to myself, 'Who will be a fitting husband for this girl.' And, as I could not think of a suitable husband for her, I was deprived of sleep by my anxiety about the matter, and contracted a violent fever. And in order to allay it, I worshipped and petitioned Vishnu, and one night, when I was only able to sleep a little on account of pain, Vishnu said to me in a dream, 'Let that Hansávalí, on account of whom you have contracted this fever, touch you with her hand, my son, then your fever will be allayed. For her hand is so holy from worshipping me, that whenever she touches any one with it, his fever, even though incurable, will certainly pass away. And you need have no more anxiety about her marriage, since prince Kamalákara is destined to be her husband. But she will endure some misery for a short time.' When I had been thus instructed by Vishnu in a dream, I woke up at the end of the night. Then my fever was removed by the touch of Hansávalí's hand. And so the union of you two is appointed by the god. Accordingly I bestow on you Hansávalí." When he had said this, he had an auspicious moment fixed for the marriage and returned to his capital. There he told all that he had done, and when Hansávalí had heard it, she said in secret to her confidante, named Kanakamanjarí, "Go and see with your own eyes whether that prince, to whom I am to be given, is the same as he, who, when painted here by the artist, captivated my heart. For it is just possible that my father may wish, out of fear, to bestow me as a gift on some prince of the same name, that has come here with an army." With these words she sent off Kanakamanjarí, acting in accordance with her own will only. And the confidante, having assumed the complete disguise of an ascetic, with rosary of Aksha beads, deer-skin, and matted hair, went to the camp of that prince, and entered introduced by his attendants, and beheld him looking like the god that presides over the weapon with which the god of love conquers the world. And her heart was fascinated by his beauty, and she remained a moment looking as if she were in profound meditation. And full of longing she said to herself, "If I am not united with this charming prince, I shall have been born in vain. So I will take the necessary steps to ensure that, whatever comes of it." Then she went up to him, and gave him her blessing, and bestowed on him a jewel, and he received the gem politely and sat down; then she said to him, "This is an excellent jewel of which I have often seen the properties tested. By holding it in your hand you can render ineffectual the best weapon of your enemy. And I give it you out of regard for your excellence, for it is not of so much use to me, prince, as it is to you." When she said this, the prince began to speak to her, but she forbade him, on the ground that she had vowed an exclusive devotion to the life of a beggar, and departed thence. Then she laid aside the dress of a female ascetic, and assumed a downcast expression of face, and went into the presence of Hansávalí, and when questioned by her, made the following false statement; "I must out of love for you reveal the king's secret, although it is a matter which ought to be concealed. When I went from here to the camp of the prince dressed as a female ascetic, a man came up to me of his own accord and said in a low voice, 'Reverend madam, do you know the rites for exorcising demons?' When I heard that, I said to him, looking upon him as the warder, 'I know them very well. This is a trifling matter for me.' Then I was immediately introduced into the presence of that prince Kamalákara. And I saw him crouching, possessed by a demon, having horns on his head, and his attendants were trying to restrain him; besides he had herbs and a talismanic jewel on him. I performed certain pretended ceremonies to avert evil, and went out immediately, saying, 'To-morrow I will come and take away his affliction.' Accordingly, being exceedingly grieved with the sight of such an unexpected calamity, I have come here to tell you; it is for you to decide what you will do next." When the unsuspecting Hansávalí heard this trumped-up tale of her maid's, terrible as a thunderstroke, she was distracted and said to her, "Out on the spite of destiny! she brings trouble on her handiwork, even when full of excellences; indeed the spot on the moon is a disgrace to him who created it. As for this prince, I chose him as my husband, but I cannot see him, so it is best for me to die or to retire into some forest. So tell me what I had better do in this matter." When the guileless lady said this, the treacherous Kanakamanjarí answered, "Have some maid of yours, dressed in your clothes, married to him, and we will escape to some place of refuge; for the people of the palace will be all in a state of excitement at that time." When the princess heard that, she said to her wicked confidante, "Then do you put on my clothes, and marry that prince; who else is as faithful to me as you?" The wicked Kanakamanjarí answered, "Cheer up, I will manage to effect this by a stratagem, happen to me what may. But when the time comes, you must do as I direct you." When she had consoled her with these words, she went and told an intimate friend of hers, named Asokakarí, her secret object. And with her she waited during three days on the desponding Hansávalí, who agreed with them on the measures to he taken. And when the wedding-day came, the bridegroom Kamalákara arrived at night, with a train of elephants, horses, and footmen. While all the people of the palace were occupied with festal rejoicing, Kanakamanjarí, keeping by an artifice the other maids out of the way, quickly took Hansávalí into her chamber, ostensibly for the purpose of decking her, and put the princess's dress on herself, and clothed her in the dress of Asokakarí, and put her own dress on her accomplice Asokakarí, and when night came, said to Hansávalí, "If you go out only the distance of a cos from the western gate of this city, you will find an old hollow Salmali-tree. Go and hide inside it, and await my arrival. And after the business is accomplished, I will certainly come there to you." When Hansávalí heard these words of her treacherous friend, she agreed, and went out from the female apartments at night clad in her garments, and she passed out unperceived by the western gate of the city, which was crowded with the bridegroom's attendants, and reached the foot of that Salmali-tree. But when she saw that the hollow of it was black with thick darkness, she was afraid to go into it, so she climbed up a banyan-tree near it. There she remained hidden by the leaves, watching for the arrival of her treacherous friend, for she did not see through her villainy, being herself of a guileless nature. [196] In the palace meanwhile, the auspicious moment having arrived, the king brought Kanakamanjarí, who was dressed as Hansávalí, and placed her on the sacrificial platform, and Kamalákara married that fair-hued maid, and on account of its being night nobody detected her. And the moment the marriage was over, the prince set out for his own camp at full speed by that same western gate of the city, in order to gain the benefit of propitious constellations, and he took with him the supposed Hansávalí, together with Asokakarí, who was personating Kanakamanjarí. And as he went along, he came near that Salmali-tree, in the banyan-tree near which was concealed Hansávalí, who had been so cruelly deceived. And when he arrived there, the supposed Hansávalí, who was on the back of the elephant, which the king had mounted, embraced him, as if she were terrified. And he asked her eagerly the reason of that terror, whereupon she artfully replied with gushing tears; "My husband, I remember that, last night, in a dream, a woman like a Rákshasí rushed out from this tree, and seized me to eat me. Then a certain Bráhman ran forward and delivered me, and after he had consoled me, he said, 'My daughter, you should have this tree burnt, and if this woman should come out of it, she must be thrown back into it. So all will turn out well.' When the Bráhman had said this, he disappeared. And I woke up. Now that I have seen this tree I remember it. That is why I am frightened." When she said this, Kamalákara immediately ordered his servants to burn the tree and the woman too. So they burned the tree; and the pretended Hansávalí thought that her mistress was burned in it, as she did not come out of it. Then she was satisfied, and Kamalákara returned with her to the camp, thinking that he had got the real Hansávalí. And the next morning he returned rapidly from that place to his city of Kosala, and he was anointed king by his father, who was pleased at his success. And after his father had gone to the forest, he ruled the earth, having for his wife Kanakamanjarí the pretended Hansávalí. But the bard Manorathasiddhi kept at a distance from the palace, because he feared for his own safety in case she were to find out who he was. But when Hansávalí, who remained that night in the banyan-tree, heard and saw all that, she perceived that she had been tricked. And she said to herself, as soon as Kamalákara had departed; "Alas! my wicked confidante has robbed me of my lover by treachery. Alas! she even desires to have me burned in order to ensure her own peace of mind. But to whom is reliance upon treacherous people not a source of calamity? So I will throw my unlucky self into the glowing ashes of the Salmali-tree, that was burnt for me, and so pay my debt to the tree." After these reflections she descended from the tree, determined to destroy herself, but as fate would have it, she returned to her sober reason, and thought thus within herself; "Why should I destroy myself without reason? If I live, I shall soon be revenged on that betrayer of her friend. For when my father was seized with that fever, Vishnu appeared to him in a dream, and after saying that he was to be healed by the touch of my hand, said this to him, 'Hansávalí shall obtain Kamalákara, who will be a suitable husband for her, but she shall endure calamity for a short time.' So I will go somewhere and wait a little." When she had formed this resolution, she set out for an uninhabited forest. And after she had gone a long distance, and was weary, and her steps began to falter, the night disappeared, as if out of pity, in order to let her see her way. And the heaven being, as it were, moved with compassion at beholding her, let fall a flood of tears in the form of drops of dew. And the sun, the friend of the virtuous, rose up so as to comfort her, by revealing to her both hopes and the face of the country, and stretched out the fingers of his rays to wipe away her tears. Then the princess, being a little consoled, went on slowly by by-paths, avoiding the sight of men; and wounded by the spikes of kusa grass, she at last reached with difficulty a certain forest, full of birds which seemed to be singing, "Come here, come here!" She entered the wood fatigued, and was, as it were, courteously fanned by the trees with their creepers waving in the wind. So she, full of longing for her beloved, beheld that wood in all the pomp of spring, where the cuckoos cooed sweetly on fragrant mango-trees in full blossom. And in her despondency she said to herself; "Although this breeze from the Malaya mountain, red with the pollen of flowers, scorches me like a fire, and these showers of flowers falling from the trees, while the bees hum, strike me like showers of the arrows of Love, still I will remain here worshipping with these flowers the husband of Ramá, [197] and by so doing purge away my sin." Having formed this resolution, she remained bathing in tanks and living on fruit, devoted to the worship of Vishnu, in order to gain Kamalákara. In the meanwhile it happened that Kamalákara was seized with a chronic quartan fever. Then the wicked Kanakamanjarí, who personated Hansávalí, was terrified, and thought thus in her heart, "I have always one fear in my heart, lest Asokakarí should reveal my secret, and now a second has come on the top of it. For the father of Hansávalí said to my husband, in the presence of a large number of persons, that the touch of his daughter's hand removed fever; and as soon as in his present attack he shall call that to mind, I shall be exposed, as not having that power, and ruined. So I will perform on his behalf with all due rites an incantation for obtaining control over an imp of the fever-demon, who has the power of removing fever, and who was mentioned to me long ago by a certain witch. And I will by a stratagem kill this Asokakarí, in front of the imp, in order that the offering to him may be made with human flesh, and so he may be enlisted in my service and bring about the desired result. So the king's fever will be cured and Asokakarí removed at the same time, and both my fears will be ended; I do not see any chance of a prosperous issue in any other way." Having formed this resolution, she told Asokakarí all the harmless points of her plan, taking care to omit the necessity of slaying a human being. Then Asokakarí consented, and brought the necessary utensils, and Kanakamanjarí by an artifice dismissed her attendants, and, accompanied by Asokakarí only, went out from the women's apartments secretly at night by a postern-door, and sword in hand, [198] made for a deserted temple of Siva in which there was one linga. There she killed with the sword a goat, and anointed the linga with its blood, and made an offering to it of its flesh, and threw the animal's entrails round it by way of a garland, and honoured it by placing on its summit the goat's lotus-like heart, and fumigated it with the smoke of its eyes, and lastly presented to it the animal's head by way of oblation. Then she smeared the front of the sacrificial platform with blood and sandalwood, and painted on it with yellow paint a lotus, having eight leaves, and on its pericarp she traced with crushed mango a representation of the demon of fever, with three feet and three mouths, and with a handful of ashes by way of weapon; and she represented on the leaves the fever's attendant imps in proper form, and summoned them with a spell which she knew. [199] And then she wished to make an offering to them, preparatory to bathing, with human flesh, as I said before, so she said to Asokakarí, "Now, my friend, prostrate yourself flat on the earth before the god, for thus you will obtain prosperous fortune." Then she consented, and flung herself flat on the earth, and the wicked Kanakamanjarí gave her a cut with the sword. As it happened, the sword only wounded her slightly on the shoulder, and she rose up terrified, and ran away, and seeing Kanakamanjarí pursuing her, she exclaimed again and again, "Help, help!" And thereupon some policemen, who happened to be near, ran to her assistance. When they saw Kanakamanjarí pursuing her, sword in hand, with a ferocious expression of countenance, they thought she was a Rákshasí, and slashed her with their swords till she was almost dead. But when they heard from the lips of Asokakarí the real state of the case, they took both the women to the king's court, with the governor of the town at their head. When king Kamalákara heard their story, he had that wicked wife and her confidante brought into his presence. And when they were brought, what with fear and the severe pain of her wounds, Kanakamanjarí died on the spot. Then the king, in great despondency, said to Asokakarí, who was wounded, "What is the meaning of this? Tell me without fear." Then Asokakarí related from the very beginning the history of the daring treachery accomplished by Kanakamanjarí. Then king Kamalákara, having found out the truth, thus bewailed his lot on that occasion, "Alas! I have been deceived by this supposed Hansávalí into burning the real Hansávalí with my own hand, fool that I was! Well! this wicked woman has met the just reward of her actions, in that, after becoming the wife of a king, she has been thus put to death. But how came I to permit cruel Destiny to deceive me with mere outward appearances, like a child, and so to rob me by taking away my jewel and giving me glass instead. Moreover, I did not remember that touch of the hand of Hansávalí, of which Vishnu spoke to her father, which has given evidence of its power to remove fever." While Kamalákara was thus lamenting, he suddenly recollected the words of Vishnu and said to himself, "Her father Meghamálin told me that Vishnu said that she should obtain a husband, but that she should suffer some little affliction, and that word of the god, made known to men, will not have been spoken in vain. So it is quite possible that she may have gone somewhere else, and be still alive, for who knows the mysterious ways of a woman's heart, any more than those of destiny? So in this matter the bard Manorathasiddhi must once more be my refuge." Thus reflecting, the king sent for that excellent bard, and said to him, "How is it, my good friend, that you are never seen in the palace?" But how can those obtain their wishes, who are deceived by rogues? When the bard heard that, he said, "My excuse is that this Asokakarí was well nigh slain, out of fear that she would reveal the secret. But you must not be despondent about Hansávalí, for Vishnu revealed that she would suffer calamity for a short time. And he certainly protects her, because she is ever intent on worshipping him; for virtue prevails; has it not been seen in the present instance? So I will go, king, to obtain tidings of her." When the bard said this to the king, he answered him, "I myself will go in search of her with you. For otherwise my mind cannot be at rest even for a moment." When the king had said this, he resolved on the course to be taken, and next day he entrusted his kingdom to the care of his minister Prajnádhya. And though the minister did all he could to dissuade him, the king left the town unobserved with Manorathasiddhi. And he went round to many holy places, hermitages, and forests in search of her, disregarding physical suffering, for weighty is the command of Love. And it happened that he and Manorathasiddhi at last reached the wood, where Hansávalí was performing austerities. There he saw her at the foot of a red Asoka-tree, thin and pale, but yet charming, like the last digit of the gleaming moon. And he said to the bard; "Who is this silent and motionless, engaged in meditation? Can she be a goddess, for her beauty is more than human?" When the bard heard that, he looked and said, "You are fortunate, my sovereign, in finding Hansávalí; for it is she herself that is standing there." When Hansávalí heard that, she looked at them, and recognising that bard, she cried out with renewed grief; "Alas! my father, I am ruined! alas my husband, Kamalákara! alas Manorathasiddhi! alas, Destiny, source of untoward events!" Thus lamenting, she fell on the ground in a faint, and when Kamalákara heard and saw her, he too fell on the earth overpowered with grief. Then they were both brought round by Manorathasiddhi; and when they had recognised one another for certain, they were much delighted, and, having crossed the ocean of separation, they experienced indescribable joy, and they told one another in due course all their adventures. Then Kamalákara returned with Hansávalí and that bard to the city of Kosala. There he received in marriage her hand that had the power of removing disease, after summoning her father the famous Meghamálin. Then Kamalákara shone exceedingly bright, being united with Hansávalí, both whose wings were pure. [200] And having attained his object in life, he lived happily with her whose endurance had borne fruit, ruling the earth, inseparable from Manorathasiddhi. "So you see those who do not lose heart, even in calamity, obtain all they desire, and on the same principle you should abstain from suicide, for, if you live, you will be reunited to that lord." With these words the old traveller closed his tale, and after dissuading me from death, departed whither he would. After Bhímaparákrama had told all this to Mrigánkadatta at night in the house of Chandaketu, he went on to say: Continuation of the adventures of Bhímaparákrama. So, having received useful admonition, I left that forest and went to the city of Ujjayiní, for which I knew you were making, to find you. When I did not find you there, I entered the house of a certain woman to lodge, as I was worn out, and gave her money for food. She gave me a bed, and being tired I slept for some time, but then I woke up, and out of curiosity I remained quiet, and watched her, and while I was watching, the woman took a handful of barley, and sowed it all about inside the house, her lip trembling all the time with muttering spells. Those grains of barley immediately sprang up, and produced ears, and ripened, and she cut them down, and parched them, and ground them, and made them into barley-meal. And she sprinkled the barley-meal with water, and put it in a brass pot, and, after arranging her house as it was before, she went out quickly to bathe. Then, as I saw that she was a witch, I took the liberty of rising up quickly; and taking that meal out of the brass pot, I transferred it to the meal-bin, and I took as much barley-meal out of the meal-bin, and placed it in the brass vessel, taking care not to mix the two kinds. Then I went back again to bed, and the woman came in, and roused me up, and gave me that meal from the brass pot to eat, and she ate some herself, taking what she ate from the meal-bin, and so she ate the charmed meal, not knowing that I had exchanged the two kinds. The moment she had eaten that barley-meal, she became a she-goat; then I took her and sold her by way of revenge to a butcher. [201] Then the butcher's wife came up to me and said angrily, "You have deceived this friend of mine--you shall reap the fruit of this." When I had been thus threatened by her, I went secretly out of the town, and being weary I lay down under a banyan-tree, and went to sleep. And while I was in that state, that wicked witch, the butcher's wife, came and fastened a thread on my neck. Then the wicked woman departed, and immediately I woke up, and when I began to examine myself, lo! I had turned into a peacock, though I still retained my intelligence. [202] Then I wandered about for some days much distressed, and one day I was caught alive by a certain fowler. He brought me here and gave me to this Chandaketu, the principal warder of the king of the Bhillas, by way of a complimentary present. The warder, for his part, immediately made me over to his wife, and she put me in this house as a pet bird. And to-day, my prince, you have been guided here by fate, and have loosened the thread round my neck, and so I have recovered my human shape. "So let us leave this place quickly, for this warder always murders next morning [203] the companions of his midnight rambles, for fear his secrets should be disclosed. And to-day he has brought you here, after you have been a witness of his nightly adventures, so fasten, my prince, on your neck this thread prepared by the witch, and turn yourself into a peacock, and go out by this small window; then I will stretch out my hand and loosen the thread from your neck, which you must put up to me, and I will fasten it on my own neck and go out quickly in the same way. Then you must loosen the thread round my neck, and we shall both recover our former condition. But it is impossible to go out by the door which is fastened from outside." When the sagacious Bhímaparákrama had said this, Mrigánkadatta agreed to his proposal and so escaped from the house with him; and he returned to his lodging where his other two friends were; there he and his friends all spent the night pleasantly in describing to one another all their adventures. And in the morning Máyávatu, the Bhilla king, the head of that town, came to Mrigánkadatta, and after asking him whether he had spent the night pleasantly, he said to amuse him, "Come, let us play dice." Then Mrigánkadatta's friend Srutadhi, observing that the Bhilla had come with his warder, said to him, "Why should you play dice? Have you forgotten? To-day we are to see the dance of the warder's peacock, which was talked about yesterday." When the Savara king heard that, he remembered, and out of curiosity sent the warder to fetch the peacock. And the warder remembered the wounds he had inflicted, and thought to himself, "Why did I in my carelessness forget to put to death that thief, who witnessed my secret nightly expedition, though I placed him in the peacock's house? So I will go quickly, and do both the businesses." And thereupon he went quickly home. But when he reached his own palace and looked into the house where the peacock was, he could not find either the thief or the peacock. Then terrified and despondent he returned and said to his sovereign; "My lord, that peacock has been taken away in the night by a thief." Then Srutadhi said smiling, "The man who took away your peacock is renowned as a clever thief." And when Máyávatu saw them all smiling, and looking at one another, he asked with the utmost eagerness what it all meant. Then Mrigánkadatta told the Savara king all his adventures with the warder; how he met him in the night, and how the warder entered the queen's apartment as a paramour, and how he drew his knife in a quarrel; how he himself went to the house of the warder, and how he set Bhímaparákrama free from his peacock transformation, and how he escaped thence. Then Máyávatu, after hearing that, and seeing that the maid in the harem had a knife-wound in the hand, and that when that thread was replaced for a moment on the neck of Bhímaparákrama, he again became a peacock, put his warder to death at once as a violator of his harem. But he spared the life of that unchaste queen, on the intercession of Mrigánkadatta, and renouncing her society, banished her to a distance from his court. And Mrigánkadatta, though eager to win Sasánkavatí, remained some more days in the Pulinda's town, treated with great consideration by him, looking for the arrival of the rest of his friends and his re-union with them. CHAPTER LXXII. While Mrigánkadatta was thus residing in the palace of Máyávatu, the king of the Bhillas, accompanied by Vimalabuddhi and his other friends, one day the general of the Bhilla sovereign came to him in a state of great excitement, and said to him in the presence of Mrigánkadatta; "As by your Majesty's orders I was searching for a man to offer as a victim to Durgá, I found one so valiant that he destroyed five hundred of your best warriors, and I have brought him here disabled by many wounds." When the Pulinda chief heard that, he said to the general, "Bring him quickly in here, and shew him to me." Then he was brought in, and all beheld him smeared with the blood that flowed from his wounds, begrimed with the dust of battle, bound with cords, and reeling, like a mad elephant tied up that is stained with the fluid that flows from his temples mixed with the vermilion painting on his cheek. Then Mrigánkadatta recognised him as his minister Gunákara, and ran and threw his arms round his neck, weeping. Then the king of the Bhillas, hearing from Mrigánkadatta's friends that it was Gunákara, bowed before him, and comforted him as he was clinging to the feet of his master, and brought him into his palace, and gave him a bath, and bandaged his wounds, and supplied him attentively with wholesome food and drink, such as was recommended by the physicians. Then Mrigánkadatta, after his minister had been somewhat restored, said to him; "Tell me, my friend, what adventures have you had?" Then Gunákara said in the hearing of all, "Hear, prince, I will tell you my story." The adventures of Gunákara after his separation from the prince. At that time when I was separated from you by the curse of the Nága, I was so bewildered that I was conscious of nothing, but went on roaming through that far-extending wilderness. At last I recovered consciousness and thought in my grief, "Alas! this is a terrible dispensation of unruly destiny. How will Mrigánkadatta, who would suffer even in a palace, exist in this desert of burning sand? And how will his companions exist? Thus reflecting frequently in my mind, I happened, as I was roaming about, to come upon the abode of Durgá. And I entered her temple, in which were offered day and night many and various living creatures, and which therefore resembled the palace of the god of Death. After I had worshipped the goddess there, I saw the corpse of a man who had offered himself, and who held in his hand a sword that had pierced his throat. When I saw that, I also, on account of my grief at being separated from you, determined to propitiate the goddess by the sacrifice of myself. So I ran and seized his sword. But at that moment some compassionate female ascetic, after forbidding me from a distance by a prohibitive shake of the head, came up to me, and dissuaded me from death, and after asking me my story said to me; "Do not act so, the re-union even of the dead has been seen in this world, much more of the living. Hear this story in illustration of it." Story of king Vinítamati who became a holy man. There is a celebrated city on the earth, of the name of Ahichchhatrá, [204] in it there dwelt of old time a mighty king, of the name of Udayatunga. And he had a noble warder named Kamalamati. This warder had a matchless son named Vinítamati. The lotus, in spite of its threads, and the bow, in spite of its string, could not be compared to that youth who possessed a string of good qualities, for the first was hollow and the second crooked. One day, as he was on a platform on the top of a palace white with plaster, he saw the moon rising in the beginning of the night, like a splendid ear-ornament on the darkness of the eastern quarter, made of a shoot from the wishing-tree of love. And Vinítamati, seeing the world gradually illuminated with its numerous rays, felt his heart leap within him, and said to himself, "Ha! the ways are seen to be lighted up by the moonlight, as if whitened with plaster, so why should I not go there and roam about? Accordingly he went out with his bow and arrows, and roamed about, and after he had gone only a cos, he suddenly heard a noise of weeping. He went in the direction of the sound and saw a certain maiden of heavenly appearance weeping, as she reclined at the foot of a tree. And he said to her, "Fair one, who are you? And why do you make the moon of your countenance like the moon when flecked with spots, by staining it with tears?" When he said this to her, she answered, "Great-souled one, I am the daughter of a king of the snakes named Gandhamálin, and my name is Vijayavatí. Once on a time my father fled from battle, and was thus cursed by Vásuki--'Wicked one, you shall be conquered and become the slave of your enemy.' In consequence of that curse, my father was conquered by his enemy, a Yaksha named Kálajihva, and made his servant, and forced to carry a load of flowers for him. Grieved thereat, I tried for his sake to propitiate Gaurí with asceticism, and the holy goddess appeared to me in visible form, and said this to me, 'Listen, my child; there is in the Mánasa lake a great and heavenly lotus of crystal expanded into a thousand leaves. Its rays are scattered abroad when it is touched by the sun-beams, and it gleams like the many-crested head of Sesha, yellow with the rays of jewels. Once on a time Kuvera beheld it, and conceived a desire for that lotus, and after he had bathed in the Mánasa lake, he began to worship Vishnu in order to obtain it. And at that time the Yakshas, his followers, were playing in the water, in the shapes of Brahmany ducks and geese, and other aquatic creatures. And it happened that the elder brother of your enemy Kálajihva, a Yaksha named Vidyujjíva, was playing with his beloved in the form of a Brahmany drake, and while flapping his wings, he struck and upset the argha vessel held in the extremity of Kuvera's hand. Then the god of wealth was enraged, and by a curse made Vidyujjíva and his wife Brahmany ducks [205] on this very Mánasa lake. And Kálajihva, now that his elder brother is so transformed and is unhappy at night on account of the absence of his beloved, assumes out of affection her form every night to console him, and remains there in the day in his own natural form, accompanied by your father Gandhamálin, whom he has made a slave. So send there, my daughter, the brave and enterprising Vinítamati, of the town of Ahichchhatrá, the son of the warder, and take this sword [206] and this horse, for with these that hero will conquer that Yaksha, and will set your father at liberty. And whatever man becomes the possessor of this excellent sword, will conquer all his enemies and become a king on the earth.' After saying this, the goddess gave me the sword and horse, and disappeared. So I have come here to-day in due course to excite you to the enterprise, and seeing you going out at night with the favour of the goddess, I brought you here by an artifice, having caused you to hear a sound of weeping. So accomplish for me that desire of mine, noble sir!" When Vinítamati was thus entreated by her, he immediately consented. Then the snake-maiden went at once and brought that swift white horse, that looked like the concentrated rays of the moon, rushing forth into the extreme points of the earth to slay the darkness, and that splendid sword, equal in brightness to the starlight sky, appearing like a glance of the goddess of Fortune in search of a hero, and gave them both to Vinítamati. And he set out with the sword, after mounting that horse with the maiden, and thanks to its speed he reached that very lake Mánasa. The lotus-clumps of the lake were shaken by the wind, and it seemed by the plaintive cries of its Brahmany ducks to forbid his approach out of pity for Kálajihva. And seeing Gandhamálin there in the custody of some Yakshas, he wounded those miserable creatures with his sword and dispersed them, in order to set him at liberty. When Kálajihva saw that, he abandoned the form of a Brahmany duck and rose from the middle of the lake, roaring like a cloud of the rainy season. In the course of the fight Kálajihva soared up into the air, and Vinítamati, with his horse, soared up after him, and seized him by the hair. And when he was on the point of cutting off his head with his sword, the Yaksha, speaking in a plaintive voice, implored his protection. And being spared, he gave him his own ring, that possessed the power of averting all the calamities called íti, [207] and with all marks of deference he released Gandhamálin from slavery, and Gandhamálin, in his delight, gave Vinítamati his daughter Vijayavatí, and returned home. Then Vinítamati, being the possessor of a splendid sword, ring, horse, and maiden, returned home as soon as the day broke. There his father welcomed him and questioned him, and was delighted at the account of his exploits, and so was his sovereign, and then he married that Nága maiden. [208] And one day his father Kamalamati said in secret to the youth, who was happy in the possession of these four priceless things, and of many accomplishments; "The king Udayatunga here has a daughter named Udayavatí, well taught in all the sciences, and he has publicly announced that he will give her to the first Bráhman or Kshatriya who conquers her in argument. And by her wonderful skill in argument she has silenced all other disputants, as by her beauty, which is the theme of the world's wonder, she has put to shame the nymphs of heaven. You are a distinguished hero, you are a disputant of the Kshatriya caste; why do you remain silent? Conquer her in argument, and marry her." [209] When Vinítamati's father said this to him, he answered,--"My father, how can men like me contend with weak women? Nevertheless, I will obey this order of yours." When the bold youth said this, his father went to the king, and said to him,--"Vinítamati will dispute with the princess to-morrow." And the king approved the proposal, and Kamalamati returned home, and informed his son Vinítamati of his consent. The next morning the king, like a swan, took up his position in the midst of the lotus-bed of the assembly of learned men, and the disputant Vinítamati entered the hall, resplendent like the sun, and being gazed on by the eyes of all the accomplished men who were assembled there, that were turned towards him, he, as it were, animated the lotus-bed with circling bees. And soon after the princess Udayavatí came there slowly, like the bow of the god of love bent with the string of excellence; adorned with splendid sweetly-tinkling ornaments, that seemed, as it were, to intimate her first objection before it was uttered. [210] A pure streak of the moon in a clear heaven would give some idea of her appearance when she was seated on her emerald throne. Then she made her first objection, stringing on the threads of her glittering teeth a chain of elegant words like jewels. But Vinítamati proved that her objection was based upon premisses logically untenable, and he soon silenced the fair one, refuting her point by point. Then the learned audience commended him, and the princess, though beaten in argument, considered that she had triumphed, as she had gained an excellent husband. And Udayatunga bestowed on Vinítamati his daughter, whom he had won in the arguing match. And the king loaded Vinítamati with jewels, and he lived united to the daughter of a snake and the daughter of a king. Once on a time, when he was engaged in gambling, and was being beaten by other gamblers, and much distressed in mind thereat, a Bráhman came and asked him for food with great importunity. He was annoyed at that, and whispered in the ear of his servant, and caused to be presented to the Bráhman a vessel full of sand wrapped up in a cloth. The simple-minded Bráhman thought, on account of its weight, that it must be full of gold, and went to a solitary place and opened [211] it. And seeing that it was full of sand, he flung it down on the earth, and saying to himself, "The man has deceived me," he went home despondent. But Vinítamati thought no more of the matter, and left the gambling, and remained at home with his wives in great comfort. And in course of time, the king Udayatunga became unable to bear the burden of the empire, as his vigour in negotiations and military operations was relaxed by old age. [212] Then, as he had no son, he appointed his son-in-law Vinítamati his successor, and went to the Ganges to lay down his body. And as soon as Vinítamati obtained the government, he conquered the ten cardinal points by the virtue of his horse and his sword. And, by the might of his calamity-averting ring, his kingdom was free from sickness and famine, like that of Ráma. Now, once on a time, there came to that king from a foreign country a mendicant, named Ratnachandrámati, who was among other disputants like the lion among elephants. The king, who was fond of accomplished men, entertained him, and the mendicant challenged him to dispute on the following terms, which he uttered in the form of a verse; "If thou art vanquished, O king, thou must adopt the law of Buddha; if I am vanquished, I will abandon the rags of a Buddhist mendicant, and listen to the teaching of the Bráhmans." The king accepted this challenge, and argued with the mendicant for seven days, and on the eighth day the mendicant conquered that king, who in the dispute with Udayavatí had conquered the "Hammer of Shavelings." Then faith arose in the breast of the king, and he adopted the Bauddha law taught by that mendicant, which is rich in the merit of benefiting all creatures; and becoming devoted to the worship of Jina, he built monasteries and alms-houses for Buddhist mendicants, Bráhmans, and other sectaries, and all men generally. And being subdued in spirit by the practice of that law, he asked that mendicant to teach him the rule for the discipline leading to the rank of a Bodhisattva, a rule which involves benefits to all. And the mendicant said to him; "King, the great discipline of a Bodhisattva is to be performed by those who are free from sin, and by no others. Now you are not tainted with any sin which is palpable, and therefore visible to men like myself, but find out by the following method, if you have any minute sin, and so destroy it." With these words the mendicant taught him a charm [213] for producing dreams, and the king, after having had a dream, said to the mendicant in the morning, "Teacher, I fancied in my dream last night that I went to the other world, and being hungry I asked for some food. And then some men with maces in their hands said to me, 'Eat, O king, these numerous grains of hot sand earned by you, which you gave long ago to the hungry Bráhman, when he came to beg of you. If you give away ten crores of gold, you will be liberated from this guilt.' When the men with maces had said this to me, I woke up, and lo! the night had come to an end." When the king had related his dream, he gave away, by order of the mendicant, ten crores of gold as an atonement for his sin, and again employed the charm for producing dreams. And again he had that dream, and in the morning when he got up, he related it, and said; "Last night also those mace-bearers in the other world gave me sand to eat, when I was hungry, and then I said to them,--'Why should I eat this sand, though I have bestowed alms?' Then they said to me--'Your gift was of no avail, for among the gold coins was one belonging to a Bráhman;' when I heard this I woke up." Having told his dream in these words, the king gave away another ten crores of gold to beggars. And again, when the night came, he used that charm for producing dreams, and again he had a dream, and next morning when he got up, he related it in the following words; "Last night too those men in the other world gave me sand to eat in my dream, and when I questioned them, they said this to me, 'King, that gift of yours also is of no avail, for to-day a Bráhman has been robbed and murdered in a forest in your country by bandits, and you did not protect him, so your gift is of no avail on account of your not protecting your subjects; so give to-day double the gift of yesterday.' When I heard this I woke up." After the king had related his dream to his spiritual guide in these words, he gave double his former gift. Then he said to the mendicant, "Teacher, how can men like myself obey in this world a law which admits of so many infractions." When the mendicant heard that, he said, "Wise men should not allow such a little thing to damp their ardour in the keeping of the law of righteousness. The gods themselves protect firm men, endowed with perseverance, that swerve not from their duty, and they bring their wishes to fulfilment. Have you not heard the story of the adorable Bodhisattva in his former birth as a boar? Listen, I will tell it you." Story of the Holy Boar. Long ago there dwelt in a cavern in the Vindhya mountains a wise boar, who was an incarnation of a portion of a Buddha, together with his friend a monkey. He was a benefactor of all creatures, and he remained always in the society of that friend, honouring guests, and so he spent the time in occupations suited to him. But once on a time there came on a storm lasting for five days, which was terrible, in that it hindered with its unintermitting rainfall the movements of all living creatures. On the fifth day, as the boar was lying asleep with the monkey at night, there came to the door of the cave a lion with his mate and his cub. Then the lion said to his mate, "During this long period of bad weather we shall certainly die of hunger from not obtaining any animal to eat." The lioness answered, "It is clear that hunger will prevent all of us from surviving, so you two had better eat me and so save your lives. For you are my lord and master, and this son of ours is our very life; you will easily get another mate like me, so ensure the welfare of you two by devouring me." Now, as chance would have it, that noble boar woke up and heard the conversation of the lion and his mate. And he was delighted, and thought to himself, "The idea of my receiving such guests on such a night in such a storm! Ah! to-day my merit in a former state of existence has brought forth fruit. So let me satiate these guests with this body that perishes in a moment, while I have a chance of doing so." Having thus reflected, the boar rose up, and went out, and said to the lion with an affectionate voice; "My good friend, do not despond. For here I am ready to be eaten by you and your mate and your cub: so eat me." When the boar said this, the lion was delighted and said to his mate, "Let this cub eat first, then I will eat, and you shall eat after me." She agreed, and first the cub ate some of the flesh of the boar, and then the lion himself began to eat. And while he was eating, the noble boar said to him, "Drink my blood quickly, before it sinks into the ground, and satisfy your hunger with my flesh, and let your mate eat the rest." While the boar was saying this, the lion gradually devoured his flesh until nothing but bones was left, but still the virtuous boar did not die, for his life remained in him, as if to see what would be the end of his endurance. And in the meanwhile the lioness, exhausted with hunger, died in the cave, and the lion went off somewhere or other with his cub, and the night came to an end. At this juncture his friend the monkey woke up, and went out, and seeing the boar reduced to such a condition, said to him in the utmost excitement, "Who reduced you to such a state? Tell me, my friend, if you can." Thereupon the heroic boar told him the whole story. Then the monkey prostrated himself at his feet, and said to him with tears,--"You must be a portion of some divinity, since you have thus rescued yourself from this animal nature: so tell me any wish that you may have, and I will endeavour to fulfil it for you." When the monkey said this to the boar, the boar answered; "Friend, the only wish that I have is one difficult for even Destiny to fulfil. For my heart longs that I may recover my body as before, and that this unfortunate lioness that died of hunger before my eyes, may return to life, and satiate her hunger by devouring me." While the boar was saying this, the god of Justice appeared in bodily form, and stroking him with his hand, turned him into a chief of sages possessing a celestial body. And he said to him; "It was I that assumed the form of this lion, and lioness, and cub, and produced this whole illusion, because I wished to conquer thee who art exclusively intent on benefiting thy fellow-creatures; but thou, possessing perfect goodness, gavest thy life for others, and so hast triumphed over me the god of Justice, and gained this rank of a chief of sages." The sage, hearing this, and seeing the god of Justice standing in front of him, said, "Holy lord, this rank of chief of sages, even though attained, gives me no pleasure, since my friend this monkey has not as yet thrown off his animal nature." When the god of Justice heard this, he turned the monkey also into a sage. Of a truth association with the great produces great benefit. Then the god of Justice and the dead lioness disappeared. "So you see, king, that it is easy for those, who in the strength of goodness do not relax their efforts after virtue, and are aided by gods, to attain the ends which they desire." When the generous king Vinítamati had heard this tale from the Buddhist mendicant, he again used, when the night came, that charm for obtaining a dream. And after he had had a dream, he told it the next morning to the mendicant: "I remember, a certain divine hermit said to me in my dream 'Son, you are now free from sin, enter on the discipline for obtaining the rank of a Bodhisattva.' And having heard that speech I woke up this morning with a mind at ease." When the king had said this to the mendicant, who was his spiritual guide, he took upon himself, with his permission, that difficult vow on an auspicious day; and then he remained continually showering favours on suitors, and yet his wealth proved inexhaustible, for prosperity is the result of virtue. One day a Bráhman suitor came and said to him: "King, I am a Bráhman, an inhabitant of the city of Pátaliputra. There a Bráhman-Rákshasa has occupied my sacrificial fire-chamber and seized my son, and no expedient, which I can make use of, is of any avail against him. So I have come here to petition you, who are the wishing-tree of suppliants; give me that ring of yours that removes all noxious things, in order that I may have success." When the Bráhman made this request to the king, he gave him without reluctance the ring he had obtained from Kálajihva. And when the Bráhman departed with it, the fame of the king's Bodhisattva-vow was spread abroad throughout the world. Afterwards there came to him one day another guest, a prince named Indukalasa, from the northern region. The self-denying king, who knew that the prince was of high lineage, shewed him respect, and asked him what he desired. The prince answered, "You are celebrated on earth as the wishing-stone of all suitors, you would not send away disappointed a man who even asked you for your life. Now I have come to you as a suppliant, because I have been conquered and turned out of my father's kingdom by my brother, whose name is Kanakakalasa. So give me, hero, your excellent sword and horse, in order that by their virtue I may conquer the pretender and obtain my kingdom." When king Vinítamati heard that, be gave that prince his horse, and his sword, though they were the two talismanic jewels that protected his kingdom, and so unshaken was his self-denial that he never hesitated for a moment, though his ministers heaved sighs with downcast faces. So the prince, having obtained the horse and sword, went and conquered his brother by their aid, and got possession of his kingdom. But his brother Kanakakalasa, who was deprived of the kingdom he had seized, came to the capital of that king Vinítamati; and there he was preparing in his grief to enter the fire, but Vinítamati, hearing of it, said to his ministers; "This good man has been reduced to this state by my fault, so I will do him the justice, which I owe him, by giving him my kingdom. Of what use is this kingdom to me, unless it is employed to benefit my fellow-creatures? As I have no children, let this man be my son and inherit my kingdom." After saying this, the king summoned Kanakakalasa, and in spite of the opposition of his ministers gave him the kingdom. And after he had given away the kingdom, he immediately left the city with unwavering mind, accompanied by his two wives. And his subjects, when they saw it, followed him distracted, bedewing the ground with their tears, and uttering such laments as these, "Alas! the nectar-rayed moon had become full so as to refresh the world, and now a cloud has suddenly descended and hid it from our eyes. Our king, the wishing-tree of his subjects, had begun to satisfy the desires of all living creatures, when lo! he is removed somewhere or other by fate." Then Vinítamati at last prevailed on them to return, and with unshaken resolution went on his way, with his wives, to the forest, without a carriage. And in course of time he reached a desert without water or tree, with sands heated by the sun, which appeared as if created by Destiny to test his firmness. Being thirsty and exhausted with the fatigue of the long journey, he reclined for a moment in a spot in this desert, and both he and his two wives were overtaken by sleep. When he woke up and looked about him, he beheld there a great and wonderful garden produced by the surpassing excellence of his own virtue. It had in it tanks full of cool pure water adorned with blooming lotuses, it was carpeted with dark green grass, its trees bent with the weight of their fruit, it had broad, high, smooth slabs of rock in shady places, in fact it seemed like Nandana drawn down from heaven by the power of the king's generosity. The king looked again and again, and was wondering whether it could be a dream, or a delusion, or a favour bestowed on him by the gods, when suddenly he heard a speech uttered in the air by two Siddhas, who were roaming through the sky in the shape of a pair of swans, "King, why should you wonder thus at the efficacy of your own virtue? So dwell at your ease in this garden of perennial fruits and flowers." When king Vinítamati heard this speech of the Siddhas, he remained in that garden with mind at ease, practising austerities, together with his wives. And one day, when he was on a slab of rock, he beheld near him a certain man about to commit suicide by hanging himself. He went to him immediately, and with kindly words talked him over, and prevailed on him not to destroy himself, and asked him the reason of his wishing to do so. Then the man said, "Listen, I will tell you the whole story from the beginning. I am the son of Nágasúra, Somasúra by name, of the race of Soma. It was said by those versed in the study of astrology, that my nativity prognosticated that I should be a thief, so my father, afraid that that would come to pass, instructed me diligently in the law. Though I studied the law, I was led by association with bad companions to take to a career of thieving. For who is able to alter the actions of a man in his previous births? "Then I was one day caught among some thieves by the police, and taken to the place of impalement, in order to be put to death. At that moment a great elephant belonging to the king, which had gone mad, and broken its fastening, and was killing people in all directions, came to that very place. The executioners, alarmed at the elephant, left me and fled somewhere or other, and I escaped in that confusion and made off. But I heard from people that my father had died on hearing that I was being led off to execution, and that my mother had followed him. Then I was distracted with sorrow, and as I was wandering about despondent, intent on self-destruction, I happened to reach in course of time this great uninhabited wood. No sooner had I entered it, than a celestial nymph suddenly revealed herself to me, and approached me, and consoling me said to me; 'My son, this retreat, which you have come to, belongs to the royal sage Vinítamati, so your sin is destroyed, and from him you shall learn wisdom.' After saying this, she disappeared; and I wandered about in search of that royal sage, but not being able to find him, I was on the point of abandoning the body, out of disappointment, when I was seen by you." When Somasúra had said this, that royal sage took him to his own hut, and made himself known to him, and honoured him as a guest; and after he had taken food, the kingly hermit, among many pious discourses, told him, as he listened submissively, the following tale, with the object of dissuading him from ignorance. Story of Devabhúti. Ignorance, my son, is to be avoided, for it brings harm in both worlds upon men of bewildered intellects: listen to this legend of sacred story. There lived in Panchála, of old time, a Bráhman named Devabhúti, and that Bráhman, who was learned in the Vedas, had a chaste wife named Bhogadattá. One day when he had gone to bathe, his wife went into the kitchen-garden to get vegetables, and saw a donkey belonging to a washerman eating them. So she took up a stick and ran after the donkey, and the animal fell into a pit, as it was trying to escape, and broke its hoof. When its master heard of that, he came in a passion, and beat with a stick, and kicked the Bráhman woman. Accordingly she, being pregnant, had a miscarriage; but the washerman returned home with his donkey. Then her husband, hearing of it, came home after bathing, and after seeing his wife, went, in his distress, and complained to the chief magistrate of the town. The foolish man immediately had the washerman, whose name was Balásura, brought before him, and, after hearing the pleadings of both parties, delivered this judgment, "Since the donkey's hoof is broken, let the Bráhman carry the donkey's load for the washerman, until the donkey is again fit for work. And let the washerman make the Bráhman's wife pregnant again, since he made her miscarry. Let this be the punishment of the two parties respectively." When the Bráhman heard this, he and his wife, in their despair, took poison and died. And when the king heard of it, he put to death that inconsiderate judge, who had caused the death of a Bráhman, and he had to be born for a long time in the bodies of animals. "So people, who are obscured by the darkness of ignorance, stray into the evil paths of their vices, and not setting in front of them the lamp of sound treatises, of a surety stumble. When the royal sage had said this, Somasúra begged him to instruct him further, and Vinítamati, in order to train him aright, said, "Listen, my son, I will teach you in due order the doctrine of perfections." Story of the generous Induprabha. There lived a long time ago in Kurukshetra a king of the name of Malayaprabha. One day the king was about to give money to his subjects in a time of famine. But his ministers dissuaded him from doing so, out of avarice; thereupon his son Induprabha said to him; "Father, why do you neglect your subjects at the bidding of wicked ministers? For you are their wishing-tree, and they are your cows of plenty." When his son persisted in saying this, the king, who was under the influence of his ministers, got annoyed, and said to him--"What, my son, do I possess inexhaustible wealth? If, without inexhaustible wealth, I am to be a wishing-tree to my subjects, why do you not take upon yourself that office." When the son heard that speech of his father's, he made a vow that he would attain by austerities the condition of a wishing-tree, or die in the attempt. Having formed this determination, the heroic prince went off to a forest where austerities were practised, and as soon as he entered it, the famine ceased. And when Indra was pleased with his severe austerities, he craved a boon from him, and became a wishing-tree in his own city. And he seemed to attract the distant, and to summon suitors with his boughs stretched out in all directions, and with the songs of his birds. And every day he granted the most difficult boons to his petitioners. And he made his father's subjects as happy as if they were in Paradise, since they had nothing left to wish for. One day Indra came to him and said to him, tempting him; "You have fulfilled the duty of benefiting others; come to Paradise." Then that prince, who had become a wishing-tree, answered him, "When these other trees with their pleasing flowers and fruits are for ever engaged in benefiting others, regardless of their own interests, how can I, who am a wishing-tree, disappoint so many men, by going to heaven for the sake of my own happiness?" When Indra heard this noble answer of his, he said, "Then let all these subjects come to heaven also." Then the prince, who had become a wishing-tree, replied, "If you are pleased with me, take all these subjects to heaven; I do not care for it: I will perform a great penance for the sole object of benefiting others." When Indra heard this, he praised him as an incarnation of Buddha, and being pleased, granted his petition, and returned to heaven, taking those subjects with him. And Induprabha left the shape of a tree, and living in the forest, obtained by austerities the rank of a Bodhisattva. "So those, who are devoted to charity, attain success, and now I have told you the doctrine of the perfection of charity; hear that of the perfection of chastity." Story of the parrot, who was taught virtue by the king of the parrots. A long time ago there lived on the Vindhya mountain a continent king of parrots, named Hemaprabha, who was an incarnation of a portion of a Buddha, and was rich in chastity that he had practised during a former birth. He remembered his former state and was a teacher of virtue. He had for warder a parrot named Chárumati, who was a fool enslaved to his passions. Once on a time, a female parrot, his mate, was killed by a fowler, who was laying snares, and he was so much grieved at being separated from her, that he was reduced to a miserable condition. Then Hemaprabha, the wise king of the parrots, in order by an artifice to rescue him from his grief, told him this false tale for his good; "Your wife is not dead, she has escaped from the snare of the fowler, for I saw her alive a moment ago. Come, I will shew her to you." Having said this, the king took Chárumati through the air to a lake. There he shewed him his own reflection in the water, and said to him; "Look! here is your wife!" When the foolish parrot heard that, and saw his own reflection in the water, he went into it joyfully, and tried to embrace and kiss his wife. But not being embraced in return by his beloved, and not hearing her voice, he said to himself: "Why does not my beloved embrace me and speak to me." Supposing therefore that she was angry with him, he went and brought an ámalaka fruit, and dropped it on his own reflection, thinking that it was his beloved, in order to coax her. The ámalaka fruit sank into the water, and rose again to the surface, and the parrot, supposing that his gift had been rejected by his beloved, went full of grief to king Hemaprabha and said to him, "King, that wife of mine will not touch me or speak to me. Moreover she rejected the ámalaka fruit which I gave her." When the king heard that, he said to him slowly, as if he were reluctant to tell it, "I ought not to tell you this, but nevertheless I will tell you, because I love you so much. Your wife is at present in love with another, so how can she shew you affection? And I will furnish you with ocular proof of it in this very tank." After saying this, he took him there, and shewed him their two reflections close together in the tank. When the foolish parrot saw it, he thought his wife was in the embrace of another male parrot, and turning round disgusted, he said to the king, "Your Majesty, this is the result of my folly in not listening to your advice: So tell me, now, what I ought to do." When the warder said this, king Hemaprabha, thinking that he had now an opportunity of instructing him, thus addressed him; "It is better to take Háláhala poison, it is better to wreathe a serpent round one's neck, than to repose confidence in females, a calamity against which neither charms nor talismanic jewels avail. Females, being, like the winds, very changeful, and enveloped with a thick cloud of passion, [214] defile those who are walking in the right path, and disgrace them altogether. So wise men, of firm nature, should not cleave to them, but should practise chastity, in order to obtain the rank of sages who have subdued their passions." Chárumati, having been thus instructed by the king, renounced the society of females, and gradually became continent like Buddha. "So you see, those that are rich in chastity deliver others; and, now that I have instructed you in the perfection of chastity, listen to the perfection of patience." Story of the patient hermit Subhanaya. There lived on the Kedára mountain a great hermit, named Subhanaya, who was for ever bathing in the waters of the Mandákiní, and was gentle and emaciated with penance. One night, some robbers came there to look for some gold, which they had previously buried there, but they could not find it anywhere. Accordingly, thinking that in that uninhabited place it could only have been carried off by the hermit, they entered his cell and said to him: "Ah! you hypocritical hermit, give up our gold, which you have taken from the earth, for you have succeeded in robbing us, who are robbers by profession." When the hermit, who had not taken the treasure, was falsely reproached in these words by the robbers, he said, "I did not take away your gold, and I have never seen any gold." Then the good hermit was beaten with sticks by those robbers, and yet the truthful man continued to tell the same story; and then the robbers cut off, one after another, his hands and his feet, thinking that he was obstinate, and finally gouged out his eyes. But when they found that, in spite of all this, he continued to tell the same tale without flinching, they came to the conclusion that some one else had stolen their gold, and they returned by the way that they came. The next morning a king, named Sekharajyoti, a pupil of that hermit's, who had come to have an interview with him, saw him in that state. Then, being tortured with sorrow for his spiritual guide, [215] he questioned him, and found out the state of the case, and had a search made for those robbers, and had them brought to that very spot. And he was about to have them put to death, when the hermit said to him; "King, if you put them to death, I will kill myself. If the sword did this work on me, how are they in fault? And if they put the sword in motion, anger put them in motion, and their anger was excited by the loss of their gold, and that was due to my sins in a previous state of existence, and that was due to my ignorance, so my ignorance is the only thing that has injured me. So my ignorance should be slain by me. Moreover, even if these men deserved to be put to death for doing me an injury, ought not their lives to be saved on account of their having done me a benefit? For if they had not done to me what they have done, there would have been no one with regard to whom I could have practised patience, of which the fruit is emancipation? So they have done me a thorough benefit." With many speeches of this kind did the patient hermit instruct the king, and so he delivered the robbers from punishment. And on account of the excellence of his asceticism his body immediately became unmutilated as before, and that moment he attained emancipation. "Thus patient men escape from the world of births. I have now explained to you the perfection of patience; listen to the perfection of perseverance." Story of the persevering young Bráhman. Once on a time there was a young Bráhman of the name of Máládhara: he beheld one day a prince of the Siddhas flying through the air. Wishing to rival him, he fastened to his sides wings of grass, and continually leaping up, he tried to learn the art of flying in the air. And as he continued to make this useless attempt every day, he was at last seen by the prince while he was roaming though the air. And the prince thought, "I ought to take pity on this boy who shews spirit in struggling earnestly to attain an impossible object, for it is my business to patronize such." Thereupon, being pleased, he took the Bráhman boy, by his magic power, upon his shoulder, and made him one of his followers. "Thus you see that even gods are pleased with perseverance; I have now set before you the perfection of perseverance; hear the perfection of meditation." Story of Malayamálin. Of old time there dwelt in the Carnatic a rich merchant, named Vijayamálin, and he had a son named Malayamálin. One day Malayamálin, when he was grown up, went with his father to the king's court, and there he saw the daughter of the king Indukesarin, Induyasas by name. That maiden, like a bewildering creeper of love, [216] entered the heart of the young merchant, as soon as he saw her. Then he returned home, and remained in a state of pallor, sleepless at night, and during the day cowering with contracted limbs, having taken upon himself the kumuda-vow. [217] And thinking continually of her, he was averse to food and all other things of the kind, and even when questioned by his relations, he gave no more answer than if he had been dumb. Then, one day, the king's painter, whose name was Mantharaka, an intimate friend of his, said to him in private, when in this state owing to the sorrow of separation: "Friend, why do you remain leaning against the wall like a man in a picture? Like a lifeless image, you neither eat, nor hear, nor see." When his friend the painter asked him this question persistently, the merchant's son at last told him his desire. The painter said to him; "It is not fitting that you, a merchant's son, should fall in love with a princess. Let the swan desire the beautiful face of the lotuses of all ordinary lakes, but what has he to do with the delight of enjoying the lotus of that lake, which is the navel of Vishnu?" Still the painter could not prevent him from nursing his passion; so he painted the princess on a piece of canvas, and gave her picture to him to solace his longing, and to enable him to while away the time. And the young merchant spent his time in gazing on, coaxing, and touching, and adorning her picture, and he fancied that it was the real princess Induyasas, and gradually became absorbed in her, and did all that he did under that belief. [218] And in course of time he was so engrossed by that fancy, that he seemed to see her, though she was only a painted figure, talking to him and kissing him. Then he was happy, because he had obtained in imagination union with his beloved, and he was contented, because the whole world was for him contained in that piece of painted canvas. One night, when the moon was rising, he took the picture and went out of his house with it to a garden, to amuse himself with his beloved. And there he put down the picture at the foot of a tree, and went to a distance, to pick flowers for his darling. At that moment he was seen by a hermit, named Vinayajyoti, who came down from heaven out of compassion, to rescue him from his delusion. He by his supernatural power painted in one part of the picture a live black cobra, and stood near invisible. In the meanwhile Malayamálin returned there, after gathering those flowers, and seeing the black serpent on the canvas, he reflected, "Where does this serpent come from now? Has it been created by fate to protect this fair one, the treasure-house of beauty." Thus reflecting, he adorned with flowers the fair one on the canvas, and fancying that she surrendered herself to him, he embraced her, and asked her the above question, and at that very moment the hermit threw an illusion over him, which made him see her bitten by the black snake and unconscious. Then he forgot that it was only canvas, and exclaiming, alas! alas! he fell distracted on the earth, like a Vidyádhara brought down by the canvas acting as a talisman. But soon he recovered consciousness, and rose up weeping and determined on suicide, and climbed up a lofty tree, and threw himself from its top. But, as he was falling, the great hermit appeared to him, and bore him up in his hands, and consoled him, and said to him, "Foolish boy, do you not know that the real princess is in her palace, and that this princess on the canvas is a painted figure devoid of life? So who is it that you embrace, or who has been bitten by the serpent? Or what is this delusion of attributing reality to the creation of your own desire, that has taken possession of your passionate heart? Why do you not investigate the truth with equal intensity of contemplation, in order that you may not again become the victim of such sorrows?" When the hermit had said this to the young merchant, the night of his delusion was dispersed, and he recovered his senses, and, bowing before the hermit, he said to him; "Holy one, by your favour I have been rescued from this calamity; do me the favour of rescuing me also from this changeful world." When Malayamálin made this request to the hermit, who was a Bodhisattva, he instructed him in his own knowledge and disappeared. Then Malayamálin went to the forest, and by the power of his asceticism he came to know the real truth about that which is to be rejected and that which is to be chosen, with the reasons, and attained the rank of an Arhat. And the compassionate man returned, and by teaching them knowledge, he made king Indukesarin and his citizens obtain salvation. "So even untruth, in the ease of those mighty in contemplation, becomes true. I have now explained the perfection of contemplation; listen to the perfection of wisdom." Story of the robber who won over Yama's secretary. Long ago there lived in Sinhaladvípa a robber, of the name of Sinhavikrama, who since his birth had nourished his body with other men's wealth stolen from every quarter. In time he grew old, and desisting from his occupation, he reflected; "What resources have I in the other world? Whom shall I betake myself to for protection there? If I betake myself to Siva or Vishnu, what value will they attach to me, when they have gods, hermits, and others to worship them? So I will worship Chitragupta [219] who alone records the good and evil deeds of men. He may deliver me by his power. For he, being a secretary, does alone the work of Brahmá and Siva: he writes down or erases in a moment the whole world, which is in his hand." Having thus reflected, he began to devote himself to Chitragupta; he honoured him specially, and in order to please him, kept continually feeding Bráhmans. While he was carrying on this system of conduct, one day Chitragupta came to the house of that robber, in the form of a guest, to examine into his real feelings. The robber received him courteously, entertained him, and gave him a present, and then said to him, "Say this, 'May Chitragupta be propitious to you'." Then Chitragupta, who was disguised as a Bráhman, said, "Why do you neglect Siva, and Vishnu, and the other gods, and devote yourself to Chitragupta?" When the robber Sinhavikrama heard that, he said to him, "What business is that of yours. I do not need any other gods but him." Then Chitragupta, wearing the form of a Bráhman, went on to say to him, "Well, if you will give me your wife, I will say it." When Sinhavikrama heard that, he was pleased, and said to him: "I hereby give you my wife, in order to please the god whom I have specially chosen for my own." When Chitragupta heard that, he revealed himself to him and said, "I am Chitragupta himself, and I am pleased with you, so tell me what I am to do for you." Then Sinhavikrama was exceedingly pleased and said to him, "Holy one, take such order as that I shall not die." Then Chitragupta said, "Death is one from whom it is impossible to guard people; but still I will devise a plan to save you: listen to it. Ever since Death was consumed by Siva, being angry on account of Sveta, and was created again in this world because he was required, [220] wherever Sveta lives, he abstains from injuring other people, as well as Sveta himself, for he is restrained by the command of the god. And at present the hermit Sveta is on the other side of the eastern ocean, in a grove of ascetics beyond the river Taranginí. That grove cannot be invaded by Death, so I will take you and place you there. But you must not return to this side of the Taranginí. However, if you do return out of carelessness, and Death seizes you, I will devise some way of escape for you, when you have come to the other world." When Chitragupta had said this, he took the delighted Sinhavikrama, and placed him in that grove of asceticism belonging to Sveta, and then disappeared. And after some time Death went to the hither bank of the river Taranginí, to carry off Sinhavikrama. While there, he created by his delusive power a heavenly nymph, and sent her to him, as he saw no other means of getting hold of him. The fair one went and approached Sinhavikrama, and artfully enslaved him, fascinating him with her wealth of beauty. After some days had passed, she entered the Taranginí, which was disturbed with waves, giving out that she wished to see her relations. And while Sinhavikrama, who had followed her, was looking at her from the bank, she slipped in the middle of the river. And there she uttered a piercing cry, as if she was being carried away by the stream, exclaiming, "My husband, can you see me carried away by the stream without saving me? Are you a jackal in courage, and not a lion as your name denotes?" When Sinhavikrama heard that, he rushed into the river, and the nymph pretended to be swept away by the current, and when he followed her to save her, she soon led him to the other bank. When he reached it, Death threw his noose over his neck, and captured him; for destruction is ever impending over those whose minds are captivated by objects of sense. Then the careless Sinhavikrama was led off by Death to the hall of Yama, and there Chitragupta, whose favour he had long ago won, saw him, and said to him in private; [221] "If you are asked here, whether you will stay in hell first or in heaven, ask to be allowed to take your period in heaven first. And while you live in heaven, acquire merit, in order to ensure the permanence of your stay there. And then perform severe asceticism, in order to expiate your sin." When Chitragupta said this to Sinhavikrama, who was standing there abashed, with face fixed on the ground, he readily consented to do it. And a moment afterwards Yama said to Chitragupta, "Has this robber any amount of merit to his credit or not?" Then Chitragupta said, "Indeed he is hospitable, and he bestowed his own wife on a suitor, in order to please his favourite deity; so he has to go to heaven for a day of the gods." When Yama heard this, he said to Sinhavikrama; "Tell me, which will you take first, your happiness or your misery?" Then Sinhavikrama entreated that he might have his happiness first. So Yama ordered his chariot to be brought, and Sinhavikrama mounted it, and went off to heaven, remembering the words of Chitragupta. There he rigidly observed a vow of bathing in the Ganges of heaven, and of muttering prayers, and remained indifferent to the enjoyments of the place, and so he obtained the privilege of dwelling there for another year of the gods. Thus in course of time he obtained a right to perpetual residence in heaven, by virtue of his severe asceticism, and by propitiating Siva his sin was burnt up, and he obtained knowledge. Then the messengers of hell were not able to look him in the face, and Chitragupta blotted out the record of his sin on his birch-bark register, and Yama was silent. "Thus Sinhavikrama, though a robber, obtained emancipation by virtue of true discernment; and now I have explained to you the perfection of discernment. And thus, my son, the wise embark on these six perfections taught by Buddha, as on a ship, and so cross the ocean of temporal existence." While Somasúra was being thus instructed in the forest by king Vinítamati, who had attained the rank of a Bodhisattva, the sun heard these religious lessons, and became subdued, and assuming the hue of sunset as the red robe of a Buddhist, entered the cavern of the western mountain. Then king Vinítamati and Somasúra performed their evening rites, according to pious usage, and spent the night there. And the next day, Vinítamati went on to teach Somasúra the law of Buddha with all its secrets. [222] Then Somasúra built a hut at the foot of a tree, and remained there in the wood, sitting at the feet of that instructor, absorbed in contemplation. And in course of time those two, the teacher and the pupil, attained supernatural powers, the result of abstraction, and gained the highest illumination. And in the meanwhile, Indukalasa came, out of jealousy, and by the might of his sword and horse ejected his brother Kanakakalasa from the kingdom of Ahichchhatra also, which Vinítamati gave him, when he was afflicted at losing his first kingdom. He, having been deposed from his throne, wandered about with two or three of his ministers, and, as chance would have it, reached the grove, which was the retreat of Vinítamati. And while he was looking for fruits and water, as he suffered from severe hunger and thirst, Indra burnt up the wood by his magic power, and made it as it was before, wishing to entrap Vinítamati by making it impossible for him to shew such hospitality to every wayfarer. [223] And Vinítamati, beholding the grove, which was his retreat, suddenly turned into a desert, roamed about hither and thither for a short time, in a state of bewilderment. And then he saw Kanakalasa, who in the course of his wanderings had come there with his followers, and was now his guest, and he and his train were all on the point of death from hunger. And the hospitable Bodhisattva approached the king, when he was in this state, and asked him his story, and then he exerted his discernment, and said to him, "Though this wood has become a desert, and affords no hospitable entertainment, still I can tell you an expedient for saving your lives in your present state of hunger. Only half a kos from here there is a deer, which has been killed by falling into a hole, go and save your lives by eating its flesh." His guest, who was suffering from hunger, took his advice, and set out for that place with his followers, but the Bodhisattva Vinítamati got there before him. He reached that hole, and by his supernatural power assumed the form of a deer, and then he threw himself into it, and sacrificed his life for the sake of his petitioner. Then Kanakakalasa and his followers slowly reached that hole, and found the deer lying dead in it. So they pulled it out, and made a fire with grass and thorns, and roasted its flesh, and devoured it all. In the meanwhile the Bodhisattva's two wives, the daughter of the Nága and the princess, seeing that the wood of their retreat had been destroyed, and not seeing their husband, were much distressed, and went and told what had happened, to Somasúra, whom they roused from deep meditation. He soon discerned by contemplation what his spiritual teacher had done, and he told the news to his wives, distressing as it was to them. And he quickly went with them to that hole, in which his spiritual guide had sacrificed himself for his guests. There the princess and the Nága's daughter, seeing that only the bones and horns of the deer, into which their husband had turned himself, remained, mourned for him. And the two ladies, who were devoted to their husband, took his horns and bones, and brought a heap of wood from their hermitage, and entered the fire. And then Kanakakalasa and his companions, who were there, being grieved when they heard the story, entered the fire also." When all this had taken place, Somasúra, unable to endure the grief, which he felt for the loss of his spiritual teacher, took to a bed of darbha-grass with the intention of yielding up his breath. And then Indra appeared to him in person and said to him, "Do not do so, for I did all this to try your spiritual teacher. And I have now sprinkled with amrita the ashes and bones, which were all that remained of him, and his wives, and his guests, and restored them all to life." [224] When Somasúra heard Indra say this, he worshipped him, and rose up delighted, and went and looked, and lo! his spiritual guide the Bodhisattva Vinítamati had risen up again alive, with his wives, and Kanakakalasa, and his attendants. Then he honoured with an inclination of the head, and worshipped with gifts of flowers and respectful speeches, his spiritual father, who had returned from the other world with his wives, and feasted his eyes upon him. And while Kanakakalasa and his followers were respectfully testifying their devotion to him, all the gods came there, headed by Brahmá and Vishnu. And pleased with the goodness of Vinítamati, they all gave him by their divine power boons earned by his disinterestedness, and then disappeared. And Somasúra and the others told their history, and then Vinítamati went with them to another and a heavenly wood of ascetics. "So you see that in this world even those who are reduced to ashes meet again, much more men who are alive and can go where they will. So, my son, no more of abandoning the body! Go, for you are a brave man, and you shall certainly be re-united with Mrigánkadatta." When I had heard this tale from the old female ascetic, I bowed before her, and set out, sword in hand, with renewed hope, and in course of time I reached this forest, and was, as fate would have it, captured by these Savaras, who were seeking a victim for Durgá. And after wounding me in fight, they bound me, and brought me as a prisoner to this king of the Savaras Máyávatu. Here I have found you, my sovereign, accompanied by two or three of your ministers, and by your favour I am as happy as if I were in my own house. When Mrigánkadatta, who was in the palace of the Savara prince, had heard this history of the adventures of his friend Gunákara told by himself, he was much pleased, and after he had seen the proper remedies applied to the body of that minister who had been wounded in fight, as the day was advancing, he rose up with his other friends, and performed the duties of the day. And he remained there for some days engaged in restoring Gunákara to health, though eager to go to Ujjayiní, in order to be re-united with his other friends and to obtain Sasánkavatí. [225] CHAPTER LXXIII. Then Gunákara's wounds healed, and he recovered his health, so Mrigánkadatta took leave of his friend the king of the Savaras, and set out from his town on a lucky day for Ujjayiní, to find Sasánkavatí. But his friend followed him a long way with his retinue, accompanied by his ally Durgapisácha king of the Mátangas, and made a promise to come to his assistance. And as he was going along with his friends Srutadhi, and Vimalabuddhi, and Gunákara, and Bhímaparákrama, and searching for his other friends in that Vindhya forest, it happened that he slept one day on the road with his ministers at the foot of a certain tree. And he suddenly awoke, and got up, and looked about him, and beheld there another man asleep. And when he uncovered his face, he recognised him as his own minister Vichitrakatha, who had arrived there. And Vichitrakatha too woke up, and saw his master Mrigánkadatta, and joyfully embraced his feet. And the prince embraced him, with eyes wide open with delight at seeing him so unexpectedly, and all his ministers woke up and welcomed him. Then all in turn told him their adventures, and asked him to tell his, and Vichitrakatha began to relate his story as follows: Story of Vichitrakatha's adventures after his separation from the prince. At that time, when you were dispersed in all directions by the curse of Párávatáksha, I too in my bewilderment wandered about alone for a long time. And after I had roamed far, still unconscious, I suddenly reached in the course of the next day, when I was tired out, a great and heavenly town on the outskirts of the forest. There a godlike being, accompanied by two consorts, beheld me, and had me bathed with cool water, and restored my strength. And he made me enter his city, and carefully fed me with heavenly food, then he ate himself, and those two wives of his ate after him. And after the meal, [226] being refreshed, I said to him, "Who are you, sir, and why have you thus saved the life of me who am resolved on death? For I must certainly abandon the body, as I have lost my master." When I had said this, I told him my whole story. Then that noble and kind being said to me, "I am a Yaksha, these are my wives, and you have come here to-day as my guest, and you know that it is the duty of householders to honour guests to the utmost of their power. I have accordingly welcomed you. But why do you wish to abandon the body? For this separation of yours is due to the curse of a Nága, and will last only a short time. And you will certainly be all re-united, when the curse pronounced on you has spent its force. And reflect, my good man; who is born free from sorrow in this world? Hear what sorrow I have gone through, though I am a Yaksha." Story of Srídarsana. There is a city named Trigartá, the garland that adorns the head of this bride the earth, strung with virtues as with flowers. [227] In it there lived a young Bráhman named Pavitradhara, who was himself poor in worldly wealth, but rich in relations, high birth, and other advantages. That high-spirited Bráhman, living in the midst of rich people, reflected,--"Though I live up to the rules of my caste, I do not cut a good figure in the midst of these rich people, like a word without meaning [228] among the words of some splendid poem; and being a man of honour, I cannot have recourse to service or donations. So I will go into some out-of-the-way place and get into my power a Yakshiní, [229] for my spiritual teacher taught me a charm for accomplishing this." Having formed this resolution, the Bráhman Pavitradhara went to the forest, and according to the prescribed method he won for himself a Yakshiní, named Saudáminí. And when he had won her, he lived united with her, like a banyan-tree, that has tided through a severe winter, united to the glory of spring. One day the Yakshiní, seeing her husband Pavitradhara in a state of despondency, because no son had been born to him, thus addressed him, "Do not be despondent, my husband, for a son shall be born to us. And now hear this story which I am about to tell you." Story of Saudáminí. There is on the confines of the southern region a range of tamála forests, dark with clouds that obscure the sun, looking like the home of the monsoon. In it dwells a famous Yaksha of the name of Prithúdara, and I am his only daughter, Saudáminí by name. My loving father led me from one mighty mountain to another, and I was for ever amusing myself in heavenly gardens. And one day, as I was sporting on mount Kailása with my friend Kapisabhrú, I saw a young Yaksha named Attahása. He too, as he stood among his companions, beheld me; and immediately our eyes were mutually attracted by one another's beauty. When my father saw that, and ascertained that the match would be no mésalliance, he summoned Attahása, and arranged our marriage. And after he had fixed an auspicious day, he took me home, but Attahása returned to his home with his friends in high spirits. But the next day my friend Kapisabhrú came to me with a downcast air, and when I questioned her, she was at length induced to say this; "Friend, I must tell you this bad news, though it is a thing which should not be told. As I was coming to-day, I saw your betrothed Attahása in a garden named Chitrasthala, on a plateau of the Himálayas, full of longing for you. And his friends, in order to amuse him, made him in sport king of the Yakshas, and they made his brother Díptasikha personate Nadakúvara his son, and they themselves became his ministers. While your beloved was being solaced in this way by his friends, Nadakúvara, who was roaming at will through the air, saw him. And the son of the king of wealth, being enraged at what he saw, summoned him, and cursed him in the following words; 'Since, though a servant, you desire to pose as a lord, become a mortal, you villain! As you wish to mount, fall!' When he laid this curse on Attahása, he answered despondingly, 'Prince, I foolishly did this to dispel my longing, not through aspiring to any lofty rank, so have mercy upon me.' When Nadakúvara heard this sorrowful speech of his, he ascertained by meditation that the case was so, and said to him by way of fixing an end for the curse, 'You shall become a man, and beget on that Yakshiní, with whom you are in love, your younger brother Díptasikha by way of son, [230] and so you shall be delivered from your curse, and obtain your own rank once more, together with your wife, and this brother of yours shall be born as your son, and after he has reigned on earth, he shall be released from his curse.' When the son of the god of wealth had said this, Attahása disappeared somewhere or other by virtue of the curse. And when I saw that, my friend, I came here to you grieved." When my friend said this to me, I was reduced to a terrible state by grief, and after I had bewailed my lot, I went and told it to my parents, and I spent that time in hope of a re-union with my beloved. "You are Attahása born again as a Bráhman, and I am that Yakshiní, and we have been thus united here, so we shall soon have a son born to us. When the Bráhman Pavitradhara's wise wife Saudáminí said this to him, he conceived the hope that he would have a son, and was much delighted. And in course of time a son was born to him by that Yakshiní, whose birth cheered up their house and his mind. And when Pavitradhara saw the face of that son, he immediately assumed a celestial shape and became again the Yaksha Attahása. And he said to that Yakshiní, "My dear, our curse is at an end. I have become Attahása as before, come let us return to our own place." When he said this, his wife said to him, "Think what is to become of the child your brother, who through a curse has been born as your son." When Attahása heard that, he saw what was to be done by means of his powers of contemplation, and said to her; "My dear, there is in this town a Bráhman of the name of Devadarsana. He is poor in children and in wealth, and, though he keeps up five fires, hunger makes two others burn more fiercely, namely, the fire of digestion in his own stomach and in that of his wife. And one day, as he was engaged in asceticism to obtain wealth and a son, the holy god of fire, whom he was propitiating, said to him in a dream, 'You have not a son of your own, but you shall have an adopted son, and by means of him, Bráhman, your poverty shall come to an end.' On account of this revelation of the god of fire, the Bráhman is at the present moment expecting that son, so we must give him this child of ours, for this is the decree of fate." After Attahása had said this to his beloved, he placed the child on the top of a pitcher full of gold, and fastened round its neck a garland of heavenly jewels, and deposited it in the house of that Bráhman at night when he and his wife were asleep, and then went with his beloved to his own place. Then the Bráhman Devadarsana and his wife woke up, and beheld that young moon of a child glittering with resplendent jewels, and the Bráhman thought in his astonishment, "What can be the meaning of this?" but when he saw the pot of gold, he remembered what the god of fire had told him in his dream, and rejoiced. And he took that young son given him by fate, and that wealth, and in the morning he made a great feast. And on the eleventh day he gave the child the appropriate name of Srídarsana. [231] Then the Bráhman Devadarsana, having become very rich, remained performing his sacrificial and other ceremonies, and enjoying the good things of this world at the same time. The brave Srídarsana grew up in his father's house, and acquired great skill in the Vedas and other branches of learning, and in the use of weapons. But in course of time, when he had grown up, his father Devadarsana, who had gone on a pilgrimage to sacred bathing-places, died at Prayága. His mother, hearing of that, entered the fire, and then Srídarsana mourned for them, and performed on their behalf the ceremonies enjoined in the sacred treatises. But in course of time his grief diminished, and as he was not married, and had no relations, he became, though well educated, devoted to gambling. And in a short time his wealth was consumed by means of that vice, and he had difficulty in obtaining even food. One day, after he had remained in the gambling-hall without food for three days, being unable to go out for shame, as he had not got a decent garment to wear, and refusing to eat the food which others gave him, a certain gambler, named Mukharaka, who was a friend of his, said to him, "Why are you so utterly overwhelmed? Do you not know that such is the nature of the sinful vice of gambling? Do you not know that the dice are the sidelong loving looks of the goddess of Ill Luck? Has not Providence ordained for you the usual lot of the gambler? His arms are his only clothing, the dust is his bed, the cross-roads are his house, ruin is his wife. [232] So why do you refuse to take food? Why do you neglect your health, though you are a wise man? For what object of desire is there that a resolute man cannot obtain, as long as he continues alive? Hear in illustration of this truth the following wonderful story of Bhúnandana." Story of Bhúnandana. There is here a region named Kasmíra, the ornament of the earth, which the Creator made as a second heaven, after creating the first heaven, for men who have done righteous deeds. The difference between the two is that in heaven delights can only be seen, in Kasmíra they can be actually enjoyed. The two glorious goddesses Srí and Sarasvatí both frequent it, as if they vied with one another, saying--"I have the preëminence here"--"No, it is I."--The Himálaya encircles it with its embrace, as if to prevent Kali, the adversary of virtue, from entering it. The Vitastá adorns it, and repels sin with its waves, as if they were hands, and seems to say, "Depart far from this land which is full of waters sacred to the gods." In it the long lines of lofty palaces, whitened with silvery plaster, imitate the cliffs at the foot of the neighbouring Himálaya. In this land there lived a king, named Bhúnandana, who upheld as a spiritual guide the system of the castes and the prescribed stages of life, learned in science and traditional lore, the moon that delighted his subjects. His valour was displayed in the kingdoms of his foes, on which he left the impress of his nails. He was a politic governor, and his people were ever free from calamity; he was exclusively devoted to Krishna, and the minds of his people took no pleasure in vicious deeds. [233] Once on a time, on the twelfth day of the month, the king, after duly worshipping Vishnu, saw in a dream a Daitya maiden approach him. When he woke up, he could not see her, and in his astonishment he said to himself, "This is no mere dream; I suspect she is some celestial nymph by whom I have been cajoled." Under this impression he remained thinking of her, and so grieved at being deprived of her society, that gradually he neglected all his duties as a king. Then that king, not seeing any way of recovering her, said to himself; "My brief union with her was due to the favour of Vishnu, so I will go into a solitary place and propitiate Vishnu with a view to recovering her, and I will abandon this clog of a kingdom, which without her is distasteful." After saying this, king Bhúnandana informed his subjects of his resolution, and gave the kingdom to his younger brother named Sunandana. But after he had resigned the kingdom, he went to a holy bathing-place named Kramasaras; which arose from the footfall of Vishnu, for it was made by him long ago in his Dwarf incarnation. It is attended by the three gods Brahmá, Vishnu, and Siva, who have settled on the top of the neighbouring mountains in the form of peaks. And the foot of Vishnu created here in Kasmíra another Ganges, named Ikshuvatí, as if in emulation of the Vitastá. There the king remained, performing austerities, and pining, without desire for any other enjoyment, like the chátaka in the hot season longing for fresh rainwater. And after twelve years had passed over his head, while he remained engaged in ascetic practices, a certain ascetic came that way who was a chief of sages: he had yellow matted hair, wore tattered garments, and was surrounded by a band of pupils; and he appeared like Siva himself come down from the top of the hills that overhang that holy bathing-place. As soon as he saw the king, he was filled with love for him, and went up to him, and bowing before him, asked him his history, and then reflected for a moment and said; "King, that Daitya maiden that you love lives in Pátála, so be of good cheer, I will take you to her. For I am a Bráhman named Bhúrivasu, the son of a sacrificing Bráhman of the Dekkan, named Yajuh, and I am a chief among magicians. My father communicated his knowledge to me, and I learnt from a treatise on Pátála the proper charms and ceremonies for propitiating Hátakesána. [234] And I went to Sríparvata and performed a course of asceticism there for propitiating Siva, and Siva, being pleased with it, appeared to me and said to me, 'Go; after you have married a Daitya maiden and enjoyed pleasures in the regions below the earth, you shall return to me; and listen; I will tell you an expedient for obtaining those delights. There are on this earth many openings leading to the lower regions; but there is one great and famous one in Kasmíra made by Maya, by which Ushá the daughter of Bána introduced her lover Aniruddha into the secret pleasure-grounds of the Dánavas, and made him happy there. And Pradyumna, in order to deliver his son, laid it open, making a door in one place with the peak of a mountain, and he placed Durgá there, under the name of Sáriká, to guard that door, after propitiating her with hundreds of praises. Consequently even now the place is called by the two names of Peak of Pradyumna and Hill of Sáriká. So go and enter Pátála with your followers by that famous opening, and by my favour you shall succeed there.' "When the god had said this, he disappeared, and by his favour I acquired all knowledge at once, and now I have come to this land of Kasmíra. So come with us, king, to that seat of Sáriká, in order that I may conduct you to Pátála, to the maid that you love." When the ascetic had said this to king Bhúnandana, the latter consented and went with him to that seat of Sáriká. There he bathed in the Vitastá, and worshipped Ganesa, and honoured the goddess Sáriká, and performed the ceremony of averting evil spirits from all quarters by waving the hand round the head, [235] and other ceremonies. And then the great ascetic, triumphing by the favour of the boon of Siva, revealed the opening by scattering mustard-seeds in the prescribed manner, and the king entered with him and his pupils, and marched along the road to Pátála for five days and five nights. [236] And on the sixth day they all crossed the Ganges of the lower regions, and they beheld a heavenly grove on a silver plain. It had splendid coral, camphor, sandal, and aloes trees, and was perfumed with the fragrance of large full-blown golden lotuses. And in the middle of it they saw a lofty temple of Siva. It was of vast extent, adorned with stairs of jewels; its walls were of gold, it glittered with many pillars of precious stone; and the spacious translucent body of the edifice was built of blocks of the moon-gem. Then king Bhúnandana and the pupils of that ascetic, who possessed supernatural insight, were cheered, and he said to them, "This is the dwelling of the god Siva, who inhabits the lower regions in the form of Hátakesvara, and whose praises are sung in the three worlds, so worship him." Then they all bathed in the Ganges of the lower regions, and worshipped Siva with various flowers, the growth of Pátála. And after the brief refreshment of worshipping Siva, they went on and reached a splendid lofty jambu-tree, the fruits of which were ripe and falling on the ground. And when the ascetic saw it, he said to them; "You must not eat the fruits of this tree, for, if eaten, they will impede the success of what you have in hand." In spite of his prohibition one of his pupils, impelled by hunger, ate a fruit of the tree, and, as soon as he had eaten it, he became rigid and motionless. [237] Then the other pupils, seeing that, were terrified, and no longer felt any desire to eat the fruit; and that ascetic, accompanied by them and king Bhúnandana, went on only a cos further, and beheld a lofty golden wall rising before them, with a gate composed of a precious gem. On the two sides of the gate they saw two rams with bodies of iron, ready to strike with their horns, put there to prevent any one from entering. But the ascetic suddenly struck them a blow on their heads with a charmed wand, and drove them off somewhere, as if they had been struck by a thunderbolt. Then he and his pupils and that king entered by that gate, and beheld splendid palaces of gold and gems. And at the door of every one they beheld warders terrible with many teeth and tusks, [238] with iron maces in their hands. And then they all sat down there under a tree, while the ascetic entered into a mystic contemplation to avert evil. And by means of that contemplation all those terrible warders were compelled to flee from all the doors, and disappeared. And immediately there issued from those doors lovely women with heavenly ornaments and dresses, who were the attendants of those Daitya maidens. They approached separately all there present, the ascetic among them, and invited them in the name of their mistresses into their respective palaces. And the ascetic, having now succeeded in his enterprise, said to all the others,--"You must none of you disobey the command of your beloved after entering her palace." Then he entered with a few of those attendants a splendid palace, and obtained a lovely Daitya maiden and the happiness he desired. And the others singly were introduced into magnificent palaces by other of the attendants, and were blessed with the love of Daitya maidens. And the king Bhúnandana was then conducted by one of the attendants, who bowed respectfully to him, to a palace built of gems outside the wall. Its walls of precious stone were, so to speak, adorned all round with living pictures, on account of the reflections on them of the lovely waiting-women. It was built on a platform of smooth sapphire, and so it appeared as if it had ascended to the vault of heaven, in order to outdo a sky-going chariot. [239] It seemed like the house of the Vrishnis, [240] made rich by means of the power of Vishnu. In it sported fair ones wild with intoxication, and it was full of the charming grace of Cupid. Even a flower, that cannot bear the wind and the heat, would in vain attempt to rival the delicacy of the bodies of the ladies in that palace. It resounded with heavenly music, and when the king entered it, he beheld once more that beautiful Asura maiden, whom he had seen in a dream. Her beauty illuminated the lower world which has not the light of the sun or the stars, and made the creation of sparkling jewels and other lustrous things, an unnecessary proceeding on the part of the Creator. [241] The king gazed with tears of joy on that indescribably beautiful lady, and, so to speak, washed off from his eyes the pollution, which they had contracted by looking at others. And that girl, named Kumudiní, who was being praised by the songs of female attendants, [242] felt indescribable joy when she saw the prince. She rose up, and took him by the hand and said to him, "I have caused you much suffering," and then with all politeness she conducted him to a seat. And after he had rested a little while, he bathed, and the Asura maiden had him adorned with robes and jewels, and led him out to the garden to drink. Then she sat down with him on the brink of a tank filled with wine, and with the blood and fat of corpses, that hung from trees on its banks, and she offered that king a goblet, full of that fat and wine, to drink, but he would not accept the loathsome compound. And she kept earnestly saying to the king: "You will not prosper if you reject my beverage." But he answered, "I certainly will not drink that undrinkable compound, whatever may happen." Then she emptied the goblet on his head and departed; and the king's eyes and mouth were suddenly closed, and her maids took him and flung him into the water of another tank. And the moment he was thrown into the water, he found himself once more in the grove of ascetics, near the holy bathing-place of Kramasaras, where he was before. [243] And when he saw the mountain there, as it were, laughing at him with its snows, [244] the disappointed king, despondent, astonished, and bewildered, reflected as follows: "What a difference there is between the garden of the Daitya maiden and this mountain of Kramasaras. Ah! what is this strange event? Is it an illusion or a wandering of the mind? But what other explanation can there be than this, that undoubtedly this has befallen me, because, though I heard the warning of the ascetic, I disobeyed the injunction of that fair one. And after all the beverage was not loathsome; she was only making trial of me; for the liquor, which fell upon my head, has bestowed on it heavenly fragrance. So it is indubitable that, in the case of the unfortunate, even great hardships endured bring no reward, for Destiny is opposed to them." While king Bhúnandana was engaged in these reflections, bees came and surrounded him on account of the fragrant perfume of his body, that had been sprinkled with the liquor offered by the Asura maiden. When those bees stung the king, he thought to himself, "Alas! so far from my toils having produced the desired fruit, they have produced disagreeable results, as the raising of a Vetála does to a man of little courage." [245] Then he became so distracted that he resolved on suicide. And it happened that, at that very time, there came a young hermit that way, who, finding the king in this state, and being of a merciful disposition, went up to him and quickly drove away the bees, and after asking him his story, said to him--"King, as long as we retain this body, how can woes come to an end? So the wise should always pursue without distraction the great object of human existence. And until you perceive that Vishnu, Siva, and Brahmá are really one, you will always find the successes, that are gained by worshipping them separately, short-lived and uncertain. So meditate on Brahmá, Vishnu, and Siva, in the light of their unity, and patiently perform asceticism here for another twelve years. Then you shall obtain that beloved, and eventually everlasting salvation; and observe, you have already attained a body possessing heavenly fragrance. Now receive from me this skin of a black antelope, to which a charm is attached, and if you wrap yourself up in it, you will not be annoyed here by bees." When the hermit had said this, he gave him the deer-skin and the charm, and departed; and the king accepted his advice, and taking to himself patience, so lived in that place. And after the king had lived there twelve years, and propitiated Siva by penance, that Daitya maiden, named Kumudiní, came to him of her own accord. And the king went with that beloved to Pátála, and after he had lived with her a long time in happiness, he attained salvation. "So those fortunate ones, whose characters are free from perturbation, and who betake themselves to patient endurance, obtain again their own rank, though they may have fallen far from it. [246] And since you, Srídarsana, are a man fated to be prosperous, being covered with auspicious marks, why do you, out of perturbation, allow yourself to go without food?" When Srídarsana, who was fasting, was thus addressed in the gambling-hall by his friend Mukharaka, he said to him, "What you say, is true, but being a man of good family, I cannot for shame go out into this town, as I am reduced so low by gambling. So if you will permit me, my friend, to go to some other country this very night, I will take food." When Mukharaka heard that, he consented, and brought food and gave it to him, and he ate it. And after Srídarsana had eaten it, he set out for another country with that friend of his, who followed him out of affection. And as he was going along the road at night, it happened that the two Yakshas, Attahása and Saudáminí, his father and mother, who had deposited him, as soon as he was born, in the house of the Bráhman, saw him while they were roaming through the air. When they saw him in distress, impoverished by the vice of gambling, and on his way to a foreign country, affection made them say to him, while still remaining invisible, the following words; "Srídarsana, your mother, the wife of Devadarsana, buried in her house some jewels. Take those, and do not omit to go with them to Málava, for there is a magnificent prince there of the name of Srísena. And since he was much afflicted in his youth by miseries arising from gambling, he has made a large and glorious asylum for gamblers. There gamblers live, and are fed with whatever food they desire. So go there, darling, and you shall be prosperous." When Srídarsana heard this speech from heaven, he went back to his house with his friend, and found those ornaments in it, in a hole in the ground. Then he set out delighted for Málava, with his friend, thinking that the gods had shewn him favour. So in that night and the succeeding day he went a long distance, and the next evening he reached with his friend a village named Bahusasya. And being weary, he sat down with his friend on the bank of a translucent lake, not far from that village. While he remained for a brief period on the bank of that lake, after washing his feet and drinking water, there came there a certain maiden, matchless in beauty, to fetch water. Her body resembled a blue lotus in colour, and she seemed like Rati left alone, and blackened by the smoke from the body of the god of Love, when he had just been consumed by Siva. Srídarsana was delighted to behold her, and she went up to him, and looked at him with an eye full of love, and said to him and his friend, "Worthy sirs, why have you come hither to your death? Why, through ignorance, have you fallen like moths into burning fire?" When Mukharaka heard this, he said to the maiden, without the least trepidation, "Who are you? And what is the meaning of what you say? Tell us." Then she said, "Listen both of you! I will tell you the whole story in few words. "There is a large and famous royal grant to Bráhmans, named Sughosha. In it there dwelt a Bráhman named Padmagarbha, who possessed a thorough knowledge of the Vedas. He had a wife of very good family, named Sasikalá. And the Bráhman had two children by that wife, a son of the name of Mukharakha, and myself a daughter of the name of Padmishthá. My brother Mukharaka was ruined by the vice of gambling in early youth, and left his home and went off to some other country. My mother died of grief on that account, and my father, afflicted with two sorrows, abandoned the state of a householder. And he roamed about from place to place, with no other companion than myself, to look for that son, and, as it happened, he reached this village. Now in this village there lives a great bandit, the chief of a gang of robbers, called Vasubhúti, a Bráhman only by name. When my father arrived here, that ruffian, with the help of his servants, killed him, and took away the gold that he had about his person. And he made me a prisoner and carried me off to his house, and he has made arrangements to give me in marriage to his son Subhúti. But his son has gone off somewhere to plunder a caravan, and, owing to my good fortune, the result of good deeds in a former birth, he has not yet returned; now it remains for Destiny to dispose of me. But, if this bandit were to see you, he would certainly do you some violence: so think of some artifice by which you may escape him." When the maiden said this, Mukharaka recognized her, and at once clasping her round the neck, said to her, "Alas, my sister Padmishthá! I am that very brother of yours Mukharaka, the murderer of his relations. Alas! wretched that I am, I am ruined." When Padmishthá heard this, and saw her elder brother, pity caused her to be, as it were, suddenly encircled with all sorrows. Then Srídarsana comforted the brother and sister, who were lamenting their parents, and addressed a timely admonition and encouragement to them. He said, "This is not the time for lamentation, we must now save our lives even at the cost of our wealth, and by means of it we must protect ourselves against this bandit." When Srídarsana said this, they checked their grief with self-control, and all three agreed together what each was to do. Then Srídarsana, being thin by reason of his former fasts, flung himself down on the bank of that tank, and pretended to be ill. And Mukharaka remained holding his feet and weeping: but Padmishthá immediately repaired to that bandit chief, and said, "A traveller has arrived, and is lying ill on the border of the tank, and there is another there who is his servant." When the bandit chief heard that, he sent some of his followers there. They went, and seeing the two men as had been described, asked Mukharaka why he wept so much for his companion. When Mukharaka heard this, he said with affected sorrow, "This Bráhman, who is my elder brother, left his native land to visit holy bathing-places, but was attacked by disease, and slowly travelling along he has arrived here, accompanied by me. And the moment he got here, he became incapable of movement, and he said to me, 'Rise up, my dear brother, and quickly prepare for me a bed of darbha-grass. And fetch me some virtuous Bráhman from this village. On him I will bestow all my wealth, for I cannot live through this night.' When he said this to me in this foreign country after sunset, I felt quite puzzled as to what I ought to do, and, being afflicted, I had recourse to weeping. So bring here some Bráhman while he is alive, in order that he may bestow on him with his own hand whatever wealth we possess. For he will certainly not live through the night, and I shall not be able to survive the sorrow of his loss, so to-morrow I shall enter the fire. So do for us this which we ask, since we have met with you here as compassionate men and friends without any cause." When the bandits heard that, pity arose in their minds, and they went and told the story, exactly as they had heard it, to their master Vasubhúti, and went on to say, "So come and receive, as a pious gift, from this Bráhman, who is eager to bestow it on you, the wealth which ordinarily is to be obtained only by killing its possessor." When they said this to Vasubhúti, he said, "What course is this which you suggest? It is highly impolitic for us to take wealth without killing its possessor, for, if he is deprived of his wealth, without being killed, he will certainly do us an injury." When the villain said this, those servants answered him, "What is there to fear in this? There is some difference between taking wealth by force, and receiving it as a pious gift from a dying man. Besides, to-morrow morning we will kill those two Bráhmans, if they are still alive. Otherwise, what is the use of incurring needlessly the guilt of killing a Bráhman?" When Vasubhúti heard this, he consented, and in the night he came to Srídarsana to receive his pious gift, and Srídarsana concealed a part of his mother's ornaments, and gave him the rest, assuming a faltering voice. Then the bandit, having got what he wanted, returned home with his followers. Then Padmishthá came at night to Srídarsana and Mukharaka, while the bandits were asleep. Then they quickly deliberated together, and set off at once from that place for Málava by a path not frequented by the robbers. And during that night they went a long distance, and reached a wood that seemed to be afraid of the roaring lions, tigers, and other wild beasts within it. It seemed by its thorns to be in a state of perpetual horripilation, and by its roaming black antelopes to be rolling its eyes. The dry creepers shewed that its body was dried up from fear, and the shrill whistling of the loose bark was its screams of terror. And while they were journeying through that forest, the sun, that had observed their sufferings all day, withdrew its light, as if in compassion, and set. Then they sat down weary and hungry at the foot of a tree, and in the early part of the night they saw in the distance a light, as of fire. And Srídarsana said, "Can there possibly be a village here? I will go and look." So he went in the direction of the light. And when he reached it, and looked at it, lo! it was a great palace built of jewels, and its splendour produced that light as of fire. [247] And he saw inside it a Yakshiní of heavenly beauty, surrounded by many Yakshas, with feet turned the wrong way and squinting eyes. And the brave man, seeing that they had brought there all kinds of meat and drink, went up to the Yakshiní, and asked her to give him his share as a guest. And she was pleased with his courage and gave him what he asked for, enough food and water to satisfy himself and his two companions. The refreshment was placed on the back of a Yaksha ordered off by her for that duty, and Srídarsana returned with it to his friend and Padmishthá. And then he dismissed the Yaksha, and partook there with them of all that splendid food of various kinds, and drank pure cold water. Then Mukharaka was pleased, perceiving that he must be an incarnation of a divinity, as he was so rich in courage and might, and, desiring his own prosperity, he said to him, "You are some incarnation of a divinity, and this sister of mine Padmishthá is the greatest beauty in the world, so I now give her to you as a wife meet for you." When Srídarsana heard that, he was delighted, and said to his friend, "I accept with joy this offer of yours which I have long desired. But when I reach my goal I will marry her in proper form." This he said to those two, and then passed the night in a joyful state of mind. And the next morning they all set out from that place, and reached in due course the city of that king Srísena, the sovereign of Málava. And arriving tired, they immediately entered the house of an old Bráhman woman to rest. And in the course of conversation they told her their story and their names, and then they saw that the old woman was much disturbed, and when they questioned her, she said to them: "I am the well-born wife of a Bráhman here, named Satyavrata, who was a servant of the king's, and my name is Yasasvatí. And after my husband died, the compassionate king gave me the fourth part of his salary to live upon, as I had not a son to support me. But now this moon of kings, though his virtues are great, and though he is generous enough to give away the whole world, has been seized by a consumption [248] which the physicians cannot cure. And the drugs and charms of those skilled in such things do not prevail against it; but a certain enchanter made this promise in his presence, 'If I could only get a hero, equal to the task, to help me, I would certainly put an end to this illness by getting a Vetála into my power.' Then proclamation was made by beat of drum, but no such hero was found. Then the king gave the following order to his ministers; 'You must look out for some daring gambler, who comes to reside in the great and well-known asylum, which I built for such. For gamblers are reckless, abandoning wife and relations, fearless, sleeping at the foot of trees and in other exposed places, like ascetics.' When the king gave this order to his ministers, they instructed to this effect the superintendent of the asylum, and he is now on the lookout for some brave man who may come there to reside awhile. Now you are gamblers, and if you, Srídarsana, feel able to accomplish the undertaking, I will take you to-day to that asylum. And you will be well treated by the king, and you will confer a benefit on me, for grief is killing me." When the old lady said this, Srídarsana answered her, "Agreed! I am able to accomplish this, so lead me quickly to that asylum." When she heard this, she took him, and Padmishthá, and Mukharaka, to that asylum, and there said to the superintendent, "Here is a Bráhman gambler arrived from a foreign land, a hero who is able to assist that enchanter in performing incantations for the good of the king." When the superintendent heard this, he questioned Srídarsana, and when he confirmed the words of the old lady, he treated him with great respect, and led him quickly into the presence of the king. And Srídarsana, being introduced by him, beheld the king, who was thin and pale as the new moon. And the king Srísena observed that Srídarsana, who bowed before him and sat down, was of a taking appearance, and pleased with his look, he felt comforted, and said to him, "I know that your exertions will certainly put an end to my disease; my body tells me this, for the mere sight of you has quieted its sufferings. So aid the enchanter in this matter." When the king said this, Srídarsana said to him "The enterprise is a mere trifle." Then the king summoned the enchanter and said to him, "This hero will aid you; do what you said." When that enchanter heard that, he said to Srídarsana, "My good sir, if you are able to assist me in raising a Vetála, come to me in the cemetery at night-fall this very day, the fourteenth of the black fortnight." When the ascetic, who practised magic, had said this, he went away, and Srídarsana took leave of the king and returned to that asylum. There he took food with Padmishthá and Mukharaka, and at night he went alone, sword in hand, to the cemetery. It was full of many ghosts, empty of men, inauspicious, full of roaring jackals, covered with impenetrable darkness, but shewed in some places a faint gleam where the funeral pyres were. [249] The hero Srídarsana wandered about in that place of horrors and saw the enchanter in the middle of it. His whole body was smeared with ashes, he had a Bráhmanical thread of hair, he wore a turban made of the clothes of the dead, and he was clad in a black garment. Srídarsana approached him, and made himself known to him, and then girding up his loins, he said, "Tell me, what shall I do for you?" The enchanter answered in high spirits, "Half a cos only to the west of this place there is an Asoka tree, the leaves of which are burnt with the hot flame of funeral pyres. At the foot of it there is a corpse, go and bring it here unharmed." Then Srídarsana said, "I will," and going quickly to the place he saw some one else taking away the corpse. So he ran and tried to drag it from the shoulder of that person, who would not let it go, and said to him,--"Let go this corpse: where are you taking my friend whom I have to burn?" Then that second person said to Srídarsana, "I will not let the dead man go; I am his friend; what have you to do with him?" While they were dragging the corpse from one another's shoulders, and making these mutual recriminations, the corpse itself, which was animated by a Vetála, uttered a terrible shriek. That terrified the second person so that his heart broke, and he fell down dead, and then Srídarsana went off with that corpse in his arms. Then the second man, though dead, rose up, being possessed by a Vetála, and tried to stop Srídarsana, and said to him, "Halt! do not go off with my friend on your shoulder." Then Srídarsana, knowing that his rival was possessed by a Vetála, said to him, "What proof is there that you are his friend? He is my friend." The rival then said, "The corpse itself shall decide between us." Then Srídarsana, said, "Well! let him declare who is his friend." Then the corpse, that was on his back, being possessed by a Vetála, said, "I am hungry, so I decide that whoever gives me food is my friend; let him take me where he likes." When the second corpse, that was also possessed by a Vetála, heard this, he answered,--"I have no food; if he has any, let him give you some." Srídarsana, hearing this, said, "I will give him food," and proceeded to strike with his sword at the second corpse, in order to procure food for the Vetála that was on his shoulder. [250] But that second corpse, which was also possessed by a Vetála, the moment he began to strike it, disappeared by its supernatural power. Then the Vetála, that was on Srídarsana's shoulder, said to him, "Now give me the food that you promised me." So Srídarsana, not being able to obtain any other flesh to give him to eat, cut off with his sword some of his own flesh, and gave it to him. This pleased the Vetála, and he said to him, "I am satisfied with you, brave man, let your body be restored whole as before. Now take me off; this enterprise of yours shall succeed, but that ascetic enchanter shall be destroyed, for he is a great coward." When Srídarsana was thus addressed by the Vetála, he immediately became whole as before, and taking the corpse he handed it to that magician. And he received it joyfully, and honoured it with unguents and garlands of blood, and he placed the corpse, possessed by the Vetála, on its back in a great circle marked out with powdered human bones, in the corners of which were placed pitchers of blood, and which was lighted up with lamps fed by oil from the human body. And he sat on the breast of the corpse, and holding in his hand a ladle and spoon of human bone, he began to make an oblation of clarified butter in its mouth. Immediately such a flame issued from the mouth of that corpse possessed by the Vetála, that the sorcerer rose up in terror and fled. When he thus lost his presence of mind, and dropped his spoon and ladle; the Vetála pursued him, and opening his mouth swallowed him whole. [251] When Srídarsana saw that, he lifted up his sword and attacked the Vetála, but the Vetála said to him, "Srídarsana, I am pleased with this courage of yours, so take these mustard-seeds produced in my mouth. If you place these on the head and hands of the king, the malady of consumption will immediately leave him, and you in a short time will become the king of the whole earth." When Srídarsana heard this, he said, "How can I leave this place without that sorcerer? The king is sure to say that I killed him out of a selfish regard to my own interests." When Srídarsana said this to the Vetála, he answered, "I will tell you a convincing proof, which will clear you. Cut open the body of this corpse, and shew inside it this sorcerer dead, whom I have swallowed." When the Vetála had said this, he gave him the mustard-seeds, and went off somewhere or other, leaving that corpse, and the corpse fell on the ground. Then Srídarsana went off, taking with him the mustard-seeds, and he spent that night in the asylum in which his friend was. And the next morning he went to the king, and told him what had happened in the night, and took and shewed to the ministers that sorcerer in the stomach of the corpse. Then he placed the mustard-seeds on the head and the hand of the king, and that made the king quite well, as all his sickness at once left him. Then the king was pleased, and, as he had no son, he adopted as his son Srídarsana, who had saved his life. And he immediately anointed that hero crown-prince; for the seed of benefits, sown in good soil, produces abundant fruit. Then the fortunate Srídarsana married there that Padmishthá, who seemed like the goddess of Fortune that had come to him in reward for his former courting of her, and the hero remained there in the company of her brother Mukharaka, enjoying pleasures and ruling the earth. One day a great merchant, named Upendrasakti, found an image of Ganesa, carved out of a jewel, on the border of a tank, and brought it and gave it to that prince. The prince, seeing that it was of priceless value, out of his fervent piety, set it up in a very splendid manner in a temple. And he appointed a thousand villages there for the permanent support of the temple, and he ordained in honour of the idol a festive procession, at which all Málava assembled. And Ganesa, being pleased with the numerous dances, songs, and instrumental performances in his honour, said to the Ganas at night, "By my favour this Srídarsana shall be a universal emperor on the earth. Now there is an island named Hansadvípa in the western sea; and in it is a king named Anangodaya, and he has a lovely daughter named Anangamanjarí. And that daughter of his, being devoted to me, always offers to me this petition after she has worshipped me, "Holy one, give me a husband who shall be the lord of the whole earth." So I will marry her to this Srídarsana, and thus I shall have bestowed on both the meet reward of their devotion to me. So you must take Srídarsana there, and after you have contrived that they should see one another, bring him back quickly; and in course of time they shall be united in due form; but it cannot be done immediately, for such is the will of destiny. Moreover I have determined by these means to recompense Upendrasakti, the merchant, who brought my image to the prince." The Ganas, having received this order from Ganesa, took Srídarsana that very night, while he was asleep, and carried him to Hansadvípa by their supernatural power. And there they introduced him into the chamber of Anangamanjarí, and placed him on the bed on which that princess was lying asleep. Srídarsana immediately woke up, and saw Anangamanjarí. She was reclining on a bed covered with a coverlet of pure white woven silk, in a splendid chamber in which flashed jewel-lamps, and which was illuminated by the numerous priceless gems of the canopy and other furniture, and the floor of which was dark with the rájávarta stone. As she lay there pouring forth rays of beauty like the lovely effluence of a stream of nectar, she seemed like the orb of the autumn moon lapped in a fragment of a white cloud, in a sky adorned with a host of bright twinkling stars, gladdening the eyes. Immediately he was delighted, astonished, and bewildered, and he said to himself, "I went to sleep at home and I have woke up in a very different place. What does all this mean? Who is this woman? Surely it is a dream! Very well, let it be so. But I will wake up this lady and find out." After these reflections he gently nudged Anangamanjarí on the shoulder with his hand. And the touch of his hand made her immediately awake and roll her eyes, as the kumudvatí opens under the rays of the moon, and the bees begin to circle in its cup. When she saw him, she reflected for a moment, "Who can this being of celestial appearance be? Surely he must be some god that has penetrated into this well-guarded room?" So she rose up, and asked him earnestly and respectfully who he was, and how and why he had entered there. Then he told his story, and the fair one, when questioned by him, told him in turn her country, name, and descent. Then they both fell in love with one another, and each ceased to believe that the other was an object seen in a dream, and in order to make certain, they exchanged ornaments. Then they both became eager for the Gándharva form of marriage, but the Ganas stupefied them, and laid them to sleep. And, as soon as Srídarsana fell asleep, they took him and carried him back to his own palace, cheated by Destiny of his desire. Then Srídarsana woke up in his own palace, and seeing himself decked with the ornaments of a lady, he thought, "What does this mean? At one moment I am in that heavenly palace with the daughter of the king of Hansadvípa, at another moment I am here. It cannot be a dream, for here are these ornaments of hers on my wrist, so it must be some strange freak of Destiny." While he was engaged in these speculations, his wife Padmishthá woke up, and questioned him, and the kind woman comforted him, and so he passed the night. And the next morning he told the whole story to Srísena, before whom he appeared wearing the ornaments marked with the name of Anangamanjarí. And the king, wishing to please him, had a proclamation made by beat of drum, to find out where Hansadvípa was, but could not find out from any one the road to that country. Then Srídarsana, separated from Anangamanjarí, remained overpowered by the fever of love, averse to all enjoyment. He could not like his food while he gazed on her ornaments, necklace and all, and he abandoned sleep, having ceased to behold within reach the lotus of her face. [252] In the meanwhile the princess Anangamanjarí, in Hansadvípa, was awakened in the morning by the sound of music. When she remembered what had taken place in the night, and saw her body adorned with Srídarsana's ornaments, longing love made her melancholy. And she reflected, "Alas I am brought into a state, in which my life is in danger, by these ornaments, which prove that I cannot have been deluded by a dream, and fill me with love for an unattainable object." While she was engaged in these reflections, her father Anangodaya suddenly entered, and saw her wearing the ornaments of a man. The king, who was very fond of her, when he saw her covering her body with her clothes, and downcast with shame, took her on his lap and said to her, "My daughter, what is the meaning of these masculine decorations, and why this shame? Tell me. Do not shew a want of confidence in me, for my life hangs on you." These and other kind speeches of her father's allayed her feeling of shame, and she told him at last the whole story. Then her father, thinking that it was a piece of supernatural enchantment, felt great doubt as to what steps he ought to take. So he went and asked an ascetic of the name of Brahmasoma, who possessed superhuman powers, and observed the rule of the Pásupatas, and who was a great friend of his, for his advice. The ascetic by his powers of contemplation penetrated the mystery, and said to the king; "The truth is that the Ganas brought here prince Srídarsana from Málava, for Ganesa is favourably disposed both to him and your daughter, and by his favour he shall become a universal monarch. So he is a capital match for your daughter." When that gifted seer said this, the king bowed and said to him,--"Holy seer, Málava is far away from this great land of Hansadvípa. The road is a difficult one, and this matter does not admit of delay. So in this matter your ever propitious self is my only stay." When the ascetic, who was so kind to his admirers, had been thus entreated by the king, he said, "I myself will accomplish this," and he immediately disappeared. And he reached in a moment the city of king Srísena in Málava. There he entered the very temple built by Srídarsana, and after bowing before Ganesa, he sat down and began to praise him, saying "Hail to thee of auspicious form, whose head is crowned with a garland of stars, so that thou art like the peak of mount Meru! I adore thy trunk flung up straight in the joy of the dance, so as to sweep the clouds, like a column supporting the edifice of the three worlds. Destroyer of obstacles, I worship thy snake-adorned body, swelling out into a broad pitcher-like belly, the treasure-house of all success." While the ascetic was engaged in offering these praises to Ganesa in the temple, it happened that the son of the merchant-prince Upendrasakti, who brought his image, entered the temple as he was roaming about. His name was Mahendrasakti, and he had been rendered uncontrollable by long and violent madness, so he rushed forward to seize the ascetic. Then the ascetic struck him with his hand. The merchant's son, as soon as he was struck by the charm-bearing hand of that ascetic, was freed from madness and recovered his reason. And, as he was naked, he felt shame, and left the temple immediately, and covering himself with his hand, he made for his home. Immediately his father Upendrasakti, hearing of it from the people, met him full of joy and led him to his house. There he had him bathed, and properly clothed and adorned, and then he went with him to the ascetic Brahmasoma. And he offered him much wealth as the restorer of his son, but the ascetic, as he possessed godlike power, would not receive it. In the meanwhile king Srísena himself, having heard what had taken place, reverently approached the ascetic, accompanied by Srídarsana. And the king bowed before him, and praised him, and said, "Owing to your coming, this merchant has received a benefit, by having his son restored to health, so do me a benefit also by ensuring the welfare of this son of mine Srídarsana." When the king craved this boon of the ascetic, he smiled and said, "King, why should I do anything to please this thief, who stole at night the heart and the ornaments of the princess Anangamanjarí in Hansadvípa, and returned here with them? Nevertheless I must obey your orders." With these words the ascetic seized Srídarsana by the fore-arm, and disappeared with him. He took him to Hansadvípa, and introduced him into the palace of king Anangodaya, with his daughter's ornaments on him. When Srídarsana arrived, the king welcomed him gladly, but first he threw himself at the feet of the ascetic and blessed him. And on an auspicious day he gave Srídarsana his daughter Anangamanjarí, as if she were the earth garlanded with countless jewels. And then by the power of that ascetic he sent his son-in-law, with his wife, to Málava. And when Srídarsana arrived there, the king welcomed him gladly, and he lived there in happiness with his two wives. In course of time king Srísena went to the next world, and that hero took his kingdom and conquered the whole earth. And when he had attained universal dominion, he had two sons by his two wives Padmishthá and Anangamanjarí. And to one of them the king gave the name of Padmasena, and to the other of Anangasena, and he reared them up to manhood. And in course of time king Srídarsana, as he was sitting inside the palace with his two queens, heard a Bráhman lamenting outside. So he had the Bráhman brought inside, and asked him why he lamented. Then the Bráhman shewed great perturbation and said to him; "The fire that had points of burning flame (Díptasikhu) has been now destroyed by a dark cloud of calamity, discharging a loud laugh (Attahása), together with its line of brightness and line of smoke (Jyotirlekhá and Dhúmalekhá)." [253] The moment the Bráhman had said this, he disappeared. And while the king was saying in his astonishment, "What did he say, and where has he gone," the two queens, weeping copiously, suddenly fell dead. When the king saw that sudden calamity, terrible as the stroke of a thunderbolt, he exclaimed in his grief, "Alas! Alas! what means this?" and fell on the ground wailing. And when he fell, his attendants picked him up, and carried him to another place, and Mukharaka took the bodies of the queens, and performed the ceremony of burning them. At last the king came to his senses, and after mourning long for the queens, he completed out of affection their funeral ceremonies. And after he had spent a day darkened by a storm of tears, he divided the empire of the earth between his two sons. Then, having conceived the design of renouncing the world, he left his city, and turning back his subjects who followed him, he went to the forest to perform austerities. There he lived on roots and fruits, and one day, as he was wandering about at will, he came near a banyan-tree. As soon as he came near it, two women of celestial appearance suddenly issued from it with roots and fruits in their hands, and they said to him, "King, take these roots and fruits which we offer." When he heard that, he said, "Tell me now who you are." Then those women of heavenly appearance said to him, "Well come into our house and we will tell you the truth." When he heard that, he consented, and entering with them, he saw inside the tree a splendid golden city. There he rested and ate heavenly fruits, and then those women said to him, "Now, king, hear." "Long ago there dwelt in Pratishthána a Bráhman, of the name of Kamalagarbha, and he had two wives, the name of the one was Pathyá, and the name of the other Abalá. Now in course of time all three, the husband and the wives, were worn out with old age, and at last they entered the fire together, being attached to one another. And at that time they put up a petition to Siva from the fire, 'May we be connected together as husband and wives in all our future lives!' Then Kamalagarbha, owing to the power of his severe penances, was born in the Yaksha race as Díptasikha, the son of the Yaksha Pradíptáksha, and the younger brother of Attahása. His wives too, Pathyá and Abalá, were born as Yaksha maidens, that is to say, as the two daughters of the king of the Yakshas named Dhúmaketu, and the name of the one was Jyotirlekhá, and the name of the other Dhúmalekhá. "Now in course of time those two sisters grew up, and they went to the forest to perform asceticism, and they propitiated Siva with the view of obtaining husbands. The god was pleased and he appeared to them and said to them, 'That man with whom you entered the fire in a former birth, and who you asked might be your husband in all subsequent births, was born again as a Yaksha named Díptasikha, the brother of Attahása, but he has become a mortal owing to the curse of his master, and has been born as a man named Srídarsana, so you too must go to the world of men and be his wives there, but as soon as the curse terminates, you shall all become Yakshas, husband and wives together.' When Siva said this, those two Yaksha maidens were born on the earth as Padmishthá and Anangamanjarí. They became the wives of Srídarsana, and after they had been his wives for some time, that Attahása, as fate would have it, came there in the form of a Bráhman, and by the device of employing an ambiguous speech, he managed to utter their names and remind them of their former existence, and this made them abandon that body and become Yakshinís. "Know that we are those wives of yours, and you are that Díptasikha." When Srídarsana had been thus addressed by them, he remembered his former birth, and immediately became the Yaksha Díptasikha, and was again duly united to those two wives of his. "Know therefore, Vichitrakatha, that I am that Yaksha, and that these wives of mine are Jyotirlekhá and Dhúmalekhá. So, if creatures of godlike descent, like myself, have to endure such alternations of joy and sorrow, much more then must mortals. But do not be despondent, my son, for in a short time you shall be reunited to your master Mrigánkadatta. And I remained here to entertain you, for this is my earthly dwelling, so stay here, I will accomplish your desire. Then I will go to my own home in Kailása." When the Yaksha had in these words told me his story, he entertained me for some time. And the kind being, knowing that you had arrived here at night, brought me and laid me asleep in the midst of you who were asleep. So I was seen by you, and you have been found by me. This, king, is the history of my adventures during my separation from you." When prince Mrigánkadatta had heard at night this tale from his minister Vichitrakatha, who was rightly named, [254] he was much delighted, and so were his other ministers. So, after he had spent that night on the turf of the forest, he went on with those companions of his towards Ujjayiní, having his mind fixed on obtaining Sasánkavatí, and he kept searching for those other companions of his, who were separated by the curse of the Nága, and whom he had not yet found. CHAPTER LXXIV. Then Mrigánkadatta, as he gradually travelled along in the Vindhya forest, accompanied by those ministers, Srutadhi and the four others, reached a wood, which was refreshing with the shade of its goodly fruit-laden trees, and in which there was a tank of very pure sweet cold water. He bathed in it with his ministers and ate many fruits, and lo! he suddenly thought that he heard conversation in a place shut in with creepers. So he went and looked into that bower of creepers, and he saw inside it a great elephant, which was refreshing a blind way-worn man by throwing over him showers of water from his trunk, by giving him fruits, and fanning him with his ears. And like a kind man, the elephant said to him lovingly, over and over again, with articulate voice, "Do you feel at all better?" When the prince saw that, he was astonished, and he said to his companions, "Look! how comes it that a wild elephant conducts itself like a man? So you may be sure that this is some higher being translated into this form for some reason. And this man is very like my friend Prachandasakti. But he is blind. So let us keep a sharp lookout." When Mrigánkadatta had said this to his friends, he remained there concealed, and listened attentively. In the meanwhile the blind man recovered a little, and the elephant said to him, "Tell me; who are you, and how did you come here, being blind?" Then the blind man said to that mighty elephant, "There is in this land a king of the name of Amaradatta, lord of the city of Ayodhyá, he has a son of excellent qualities, named Mrigánkadatta, of auspicious birth, and I am that prince's servant. For some reason or other his father banished him from his native land, with us his ten companions. We had set out for Ujjayiní to obtain Sasánkavatí, when we were separated in the forest by the curse of a Nága. And I was blinded by his curse, and wandering about I have arrived here, living on the fruits, and roots, and water I could get on the way. And to me death by falling into a chasm, or in some other way, would be most desirable, but alas! Providence has not bestowed it on me, but makes me endure calamity. However I feel convinced that, as my pangs of hunger have been to-day assuaged by your favour, so my blindness also will be somewhat alleviated, for you are a divinity." When he said this, Mrigánkadatta felt certain who he was, and with a mind wavering between joy and grief he said to those ministers, "It is our friend Prachandasakti that is reduced to this melancholy state, but it will not do for us to be in a hurry to greet him immediately. Perhaps this elephant will cure his blindness. But if he were to see us, he would flee away; so we must stop here and look at him." When the prince had said this, he remained listening with his followers. Then Prachandasakti said to that elephant, "Now great-souled one, tell me your history; who are you? How comes it that, though you are an elephant, and are subject to the fury of elephants, you speak in this gentle way?" When the great elephant heard this, he sighed, and said to him, "Listen! I will tell you my story from the beginning." Story of Bhímabhata. Long ago, in the city of Ekalavyá, there was a king named Srutadhara, and he had two sons by two wives. When the king went to heaven, his younger son, named Satyadhara, expelled the elder son, named Síladhara, from the throne. Síladhara was angry on that account, so he went and propitiated Siva, and craved the following boon from the god, who was pleased with his asceticism, "May I become a Gandharva, in order that I may be able to move through the air, and so slay with ease that kinsman of mine, Satyadhara!" When the holy god Siva heard this, he said to him, "This boon shall be granted to thee, but that enemy of thine has to-day died a natural death. And he shall be again born in the city of Rádhá, as Samarabhata, the favourite son of king Ugrabhata. But thou shalt be born as Bhímabhata, his elder brother, by a different mother, and thou shalt kill him and rule the kingdom. But because thou didst perform these ascetic penances under the influence of anger, thou shalt be hurled from thy rank by the curse of a hermit, and become a wild elephant, that remembers its birth and possesses articulate speech, and when thou shalt comfort a guest in distress and tell him thy history, then thou shalt be freed from thy elephant-nature and become a Gandharva, and at the same time a great benefit will be conferred upon that guest." When Siva had said this, he disappeared, and Síladhara, seeing that his body was emaciated by long penance, flung himself into the Ganges. At this point of my tale it happened that, while that king named Ugrabhata, whom I have before mentioned, was living happily in the city of Rádhá with his wife Manoramá who was equal to him in birth, there came to his court from a foreign country an actor named Lásaka. And he exhibited before the king that dramatic piece in which Vishnu, in the form of a woman, carries off the amrita from the Daityas. And in that piece the king saw the actor's daughter Lásavatí dancing in the character of Amritiká. When he saw her beauty, that was like that of the real Amritá, with which Vishnu bewildered the Dánavas, he fell in love with her. And at the end of the dance he gave her father much wealth, and immediately introduced her into his harem. And then he married that dancer Lásavatí, and lived with her, having his eyes riveted upon her face. One day he said to his chaplain named Yajuhsvámin, "I have no son, so perform a sacrifice in order to procure me a son." The chaplain obeyed, and performed duly, with the help of learned Bráhmans, a sacrifice for that king's benefit. And, as he had been previously gained over by Manoramá, he gave her to eat, as being the eldest queen, the first half of the oblation purified with holy texts. [255] And he gave the rest to the second queen Lásavatí. Then those two, Síladhara and Satyadhara, whom I have before mentioned, were conceived in those two queens. And when the time came, Manoramá, the consort of that king, brought forth a son with auspicious marks. And at that moment a distinct utterance was heard from heaven, "This child who is born shall be a famous king under the name of Bhímabhata." On the next day Lásavatí also brought forth a son, and the king his father gave him the name of Samarabhata. And the usual sacraments were performed for them, and the two boys gradually grew up. But the eldest Bhímabhata surpassed the youngest in all accomplishments, and rivalry in these increased the natural ill-feeling between them. One day, as they were engaged in wrestling, Samarabhata, being jealous, struck Bhímabhata with his arm with great force on the neck. Then Bhímabhata was enraged, and immediately throwing his arms round Samarabhata, he lifted him up and flung him on the ground. The fall gave him a severe shock, and his servants took him up and carried him to his mother, discharging blood from all the apertures in his body. When she saw him, and found out what had taken place, she was alarmed on account of her love for him, and she placed her face close to his and wept bitterly. At that moment the king entered, and when he saw this sight, he was much troubled in mind, and asked Lásavatí what it meant, and she gave the following answer: "This son of mine has been reduced to this state by Bhímabhata. And he is always ill-treating him, but I have never told you, king; however now, that I have seen this, I must say, I cannot [256] understand how your majesty can be safe with such a son as this, but let your majesty decide." When king Ugrabhata was thus appealed to by his favourite wife, he was angry, and banished Bhímabhata from his court. And he took away from him his allowance, and appointed a hundred Rájpúts with their retainers to guard that Samarabhata. And he put his treasury at the disposal of the younger son, but he drove the elder son from his presence, and took away all that he possessed. Then his mother Manoramá sent for him and said, "Your father has thrown you over, because he is in love with a dancer. So go to the palace of my father in Pátaliputra, and when you arrive there, your grandfather will give you his kingdom, for he has no son. But, if you remain here, your enemy, this Samarabhata, will kill you, for he is powerful." When Bhímabhata heard this speech of his mother's, he said, "I am a Kshatriya, and I will not sneak away from my native land, like a coward. Be of good cheer, mother! what wretch is able to injure me?" When he said this, his mother answered him, "Then procure a numerous body of companions to guard you, by means of my wealth." When Bhímabhata heard this proposal, he said, "Mother, this is not becoming; for if I did this, I should be really opposing my father. You may be quite at your ease, for your blessing alone will procure me good fortune." When Bhímabhata had encouraged her with these words, he left her. In the meanwhile all the citizens came to hear of it, and they thought, "Alas! a great injustice has been done to Bhímabhata by the king. Surely Samarabhata does not think he is going to rob him of the kingdom. Well it is an opportunity for us to do him a service, before he comes to the throne." Having formed this resolution, the citizens secretly supplied Bhímabhata with such abundance of wealth, that he lived in great comfort with his servants. But the younger brother was ever on the look out to kill his elder brother, supposing that this was his father's object in furnishing him with a guard. In the meanwhile a heroic and wealthy young Bráhman, of the name of Sankhadatta, who was a friend of both brothers, came and said to Samarabhata, "You ought not to carry on hostility with your elder brother; it is not right, and you cannot do him an injury; on the contrary the result of a quarrel would be disgraceful to you." When he said this, Samarabhata abused and threatened him; good advice given to a fool does not calm but rather enrages him. Then the resolute Sankhadatta went away indignant at this treatment, and made a strict friendship with Bhímabhata, in order to have the opportunity of conquering Samarabhata. Then a merchant, of the name of Manidatta, came there from a foreign country, bringing with him an excellent horse; it was as white as the moon; the sound of its neighing was as musical as that of a clear conch or other sweet-sounding instrument; it looked like the waves of the sea of milk surging on high; it was marked with curls on the neck; and adorned with the crest-jewel, the bracelet, and other signs, which it seemed as if it had acquired by being born in the race of the Gandharvas. When Bhímabhata heard of that splendid horse, which was mentioned to him by Sankhadatta, he went and bought it for a high price from that merchant-prince. At that moment Samarabhata, hearing of it, came and tried to buy the horse from the merchant for double the price. But he refused to give it him, as it had already been sold to another; then Samarabhata, out of envy, proceeded to carry it off by force. Then there took place a fierce combat between those two princes, as the adherents of both came running up with weapons in their hands. Then the mighty arm of Bhímabhata laid low the attendants of Samarabhata, and he himself abandoned the horse, and began to retire through fear of his brother. But as he was retiring, Sankhadatta, full of overpowering anger, pursued him, and laying hold of his hair behind, was on the point of killing him, when Bhímabhata rushed up and prevented him, saying, "Let be for the present, it would be a grief to my father." Then Sankhadatta let Samarabhata go, and he fled in fear, discharging blood from his wounds, and repaired to his father. Then the brave Bhímabhata took possession of the horse, and immediately a Bráhman came up to him, and taking him aside, said to him, "Your mother the queen Manoramá, and the chaplain Yajuhsvámin, and Sumati, the minister of your father, send you the following advice at this juncture. "You know, [257] dear boy, how the king is always affected towards you, and he is especially angry with you at present, now that this misfortune has happened. So if you feel disposed to save your own life, and to preserve glory, and justice inviolate, if you have any regard for the future, if you consider us well disposed towards you; leave this place unobserved this very evening, as soon as the sun has set, and make for the palace of your maternal grandfather, and may good fortune attend you. This is the message they gave me for you, and they sent you this casket full of precious jewels and gold; receive it from my hand." When the wise Bhímabhata heard this message, he accepted it, saying, "I consent to act thus," and he took that casket of gold and valuable jewels. And he gave him an appropriate message to take back, and then dismissed him, and mounted that horse, sword in hand. And Sankhadatta took some gold and jewels, and mounted another horse. And then prince Bhímabhata set out with him, and after he had gone a long distance, he reached at dead of night a great thicket of reeds that lay in his way. As he and his companion pursued their course through it without stopping, a couple of lions, roused by the noise, which the reeds made when trampled by the horses' hoofs, rushed out roaring, with their cubs, and began to rip up the bellies of the horses with their claws. And immediately the hero and his companion cut off the limbs of the lions with their swords, and killed them. Then he got down with his friend to look at the state of the two horses, but as their entrails were torn out, they immediately fell down dead. When Bhímabhata saw that, he felt despondent, and he said to Sankhadatta, "Friend, by a great effort we have escaped from our hostile relatives. Tell me, where, even by a hundred efforts, shall we find an escape from Fate, who has now smitten us even here, not allowing us even to retain our horses. The very horse, for which I abandoned my native land, is dead; so how can we travel on foot through this forest at night?" When he said this, his friend Sankhadatta answered him, "It is no new thing for hostile Fate to conquer courage. This is its nature, but it is conquered by firm endurance. What can Fate do against a firm unshaken man, any more than the wind against a mountain? So come, let us mount upon the horse of endurance and so plod on here." When Sankhadatta said this, Bhímabhata set out with him. Then they slowly crossed that thicket, wounding their feet with the canes, and at last the night came to an end. And the sun, the lamp of the world, arose, dispelling the darkness of night, and the lotus-flowers in the lotus-clumps, by the side of their path, with their expanding cups and the sweet murmur of their bees, seemed to be looking at one another and saying, "It is a happy thing that this Bhímabhata has crossed this thicket full of lions and other dangerous animals." So travelling on, he at last reached with his friend the sandy shore of the Ganges, dotted with the huts of hermits. There he drank its sweet waters, which seemed to be impregnated with the nectar of the moon, from dwelling on the head of Siva, and he bathed in them, and felt refreshed. And he ate, by way of sustenance, some venison, which they had bought from a hunter whom they happened to meet, and which Sankhadatta brought to him roasted. And seeing that the Ganges was full and difficult to cross, for with its waves uplifted like hands it seemed again and again to warn him back, he proceeded to roam along the bank of the river. And there he saw a young Bráhman in the court of an out-of-the-way hut, engaged in the study of the Vedas. So he went up to him and said, "Who are you, and what are you doing in this solitary place?" Then the young Bráhman answered him: "I am Nílakantha, the son of a Bráhman named Sríkantha, who lived at Váránasí, and after all the ceremonies had been performed for me, and I had learnt knowledge in the family of my spiritual preceptor, I returned home and found all my relations dead. That left me helpless and poor, and as I was not in a position to carry on the duties of a householder, I became despondent, and repaired to this place, and had recourse to severe asceticism. Then the goddess Gangá gave me some fruits in a dream, and said to me, 'Remain here living on these fruits, until you obtain your desire.' Then I woke up and went and bathed, and when the morning came, I found in the water some fruits, that had been washed here by the stream of the Ganges. I brought those fruits, delicious as nectar, into my hut, and ate them there, and so I remain here engaged in asceticism, receiving these fruits day by day." When he said this, Bhímabhata said to Sankhadatta, "I will give this virtuous youth enough wealth to enable him to enter the householder-state." Sankhadatta approved his speech; whereupon the prince gave the Bráhman the wealth that his mother gave him. For what is the use of the greatness of great ones, who have abundant courage and wealth, if they do not put a stop to the sufferings of their neighbour as soon as they hear of them? And after he had made the fortune of the Bráhman, Bhímabhata searched in every direction for some means of crossing the Ganges, but could not find any. Then he tied his ornaments and sword on his head, and plunged in with Sankhadatta to swim across it. And in the middle of the river the current carried his friend to a distance from him, and he himself was swept away by the waves, and reached the bank with difficulty. When he reached the other side, he could not see his friend Sankhadatta, and while he was looking for him along the bank, the sun set. Then he began to despair, and he exclaimed in bitter grief, "Alas my friend!" and it being now the beginning of the night, he prepared to drown himself in the waters of the Ganges. He said, "Goddess Jáhnaví, you have taken from me my life in the form of my friend, so now receive also this empty vessel of my body," and he was on the point of plunging in, when Gangá appeared to him from the middle of the flood. And pleased with his violent agitation she said to him then and there, "Do not act rashly, my son! your friend is alive, and in a short time you shall be reunited with him. Now receive from me this charm called, 'Forwards and Backwards.' If a man repeats it forwards, he will become invisible to his neighbour, but if he repeats it backwards, he will assume whatever shape he desires. [258] Such is the force of this charm only seven syllables long, and by its help you shall become a king on this earth." When the goddess Gangá had said this, and given him the charm, she disappeared from his eyes, and he gave up the idea of suicide, now that he had got a hope of regaining his friend and of other successes. And being anxious to regain his friend, he passed the night in impatience, like the lotus-flower, and the next morning he set out in search of him. Then, as he was travelling about in search of Sankhadatta, he one day reached alone the district of Láta, where, though the colours of the castes are not mixed, the people lead a diversified and richly coloured life, which though a seat of fine arts, is not reputed a home of crimes. [259] In this city he wandered about, looking at the temples and the dwelling-houses, and at last he reached a hall of gamblers. He entered it and saw a number of fraudulent dice-players, who though they were clothed in a loin-rag only, shewed by their handsome, well-shaped, stout limbs, which indicated good living and plenty of exercise, that they were men of rank though they concealed it, and that they had resorted to that occupation for the sake of making money. They began to talk to him, so he sat down to play with them, and they fancied that they would make a fine thing out of him and his ornaments. Then he beat them at the dice-play, and won from the rogues all the wealth which they had acquired by cheating others. Then those gamblers, having lost their wealth, were preparing to go home, when Bhímabhata set his arms against the door and stopped them, and said to them, "Where are you going? Take back this wealth; I do not want it. I must give it away to my friends, and are not you my friends? Where can I find [260] such dear friends as you?" When he said this, and they declined to take the money out of shame, a gambler there, of the name of Akshakshapanaka, said, "Undoubtedly it is the definition of gambling that what is won is not returned, but if this gentleman becomes our friend, and gives us of his own accord wealth which he has fairly won, why should we not take it?" The others, when they heard this, exclaimed, "It is fitting, if he makes such an eternal friendship with us." When they said this, he came to the conclusion that they were men of spirit, and he at once consented to swear eternal friendship to them, and gave them back their wealth. And at their request he went into a garden with them and their families, and refreshed himself with food, and wine, and other luxuries, supplied by them. Then, at the request of Akshakshapanaka and the others, he told his name, race, and history, and asked them also for theirs. Then Akshakshapanaka told him the story of his life. Story of Akshakshapanaka. There lived in Hastinápura a Bráhman named Sivadatta, a very rich man, and I am his son, and my real name is Vasudatta. And in my youth I learnt skill in arms as well as in the Vedas. Then my father made me marry a wife from a family equal in rank to my own. But my mother was a great scold, implacable, and very passionate. And she worried my father so intolerably, that as soon as he saw me married, he left his home, and went away somewhere where he could not be traced. When I saw that, I was afraid, and I earnestly enjoined on my wife to study carefully my mother's disposition, and she, being terrified, did so. But my mother was bent on quarrelling, and it was impossible for my wife to please her in any way. The ill-natured woman interpreted her silence as contempt, her plaintive lamentation as hypocrisy, and her attempts at explanation as wrangling. For who can deprive the fire of its tendency to burn? Then her disagreeable behaviour in a short time worried my wife also so much, that she left the house and fled I know not where. Then I was so despondent that I made up my mind to abandon family life, but my wretched relations assembled together and forced me to take another wife. That second wife of mine also was so worried by my mother, that she committed suicide by hanging herself. Then I was exceedingly vexed, and I determined to go to a foreign country. And when my relations tried to prevent me, I told them of the wickedness of my mother. They assigned another reason for my father's leaving the country, and would not believe my story; so I adopted the following artifice. I had a wooden doll made, and pretended to marry it privately as a third wife, and I brought it and placed it in another secluded house which I locked up. And I made another female puppet to guard her, dressed like a servant. And I said to my mother, "I have put this wife of mine in a separate house. So you and I must for the present remain apart from her in our own house; you must not go there and she must not come here. For she is timid as yet, and does not know how to win your affection." To this arrangement my mother gave her consent. After some days had elapsed, my mother, finding that she could not manage anyhow to get at that supposed daughter-in-law of hers, who was in a private house kept always locked, took a stone one day and struck herself on the head, and remained in the courtyard in front of her own house, streaming with blood, and lamenting with loud cries. Then I and all my relations came in, hearing the cries, and when we saw her, we said, "Tell us, what is the matter?" When we asked her this question, she said spitefully, "My daughter-in-law came without any reason and reduced me to this state; so now my only remedy is death." When my relations heard this, they were furious, and they took her and me with them to the house where I kept the wooden doll. They removed the fastening, and opened the door, and went in, and lo! they saw nothing there but a wooden doll. Then they laughed at my mother, who was covered with shame, having imposed on no one but herself, and they began to repose confidence in what I had said, and so they went away again. And I left that country, and travelled about till I came to this region, and here I happened to enter a gambling-hall. And there I saw these five men playing, this man named Chandabhujanga, and that Pásupata, and this Smasánavetála, and that Kálavarátaka, and this Sáriprastara, heroes equal in valour. And I gambled with them on this mutual understanding, that whoever was conquered should be the slave of the conqueror. Then they became my slaves by being beaten by me in gambling, but I have become their slave by being won over by their good qualities. And dwelling with them I have forgotten my woes. So know that here I bear the name of Akshakshapana, [261] a name suited to my condition. Here I have lived with these excellent men of good family, who conceal their real position, and now you have joined us. So now you are our chief, and it was with this view that we took that money of yours originally, being charmed with your virtues. When Akshakshapana had told his story in these words, all the others in succession also told their adventures. And prince Bhímabhata perceived that his friends were heroes, who had disguised their real character by taking up gambling practices for the sake of gaining wealth, so he had much more pleasant chat with them, and spent the day in amusement, and then seeing that the eastern quarter had adorned its face with the rising moon, as with an ornamental patch, he went from that garden with Akshakshapanaka and the other six to their dwelling. And while he was there with them, the rainy season arrived, seeming to announce with the roarings of its joyous clouds his recovery of his friend. And then the impetuous river there, named Vipásá, that flowed into the sea, was filled with an influx of sea-water and began to flow backwards, and it deluged that shore with a great inundation, and then owing to the cessation of that influx, [262] it seemed to flow on again to the sea. Now at that time the sudden influx of sea-water brought in a great fish, and on account of its unwieldy size it was stranded on the bank of the river. And the inhabitants, when they saw the fish stranded, ran forward with all kinds of weapons to kill it, and ripped open its stomach. And when its stomach was cut open, there came out of it alive a young Bráhman; and the people, astonished at that strange sight, raised a shout. [263] When Bhímabhata heard that, he went there with his friends, and saw his friend Sankhadatta, who had just issued from the inside of the fish. So he ran and embraced him, and bedewed him with copious tears, as if he wished to wash off the evil smell he had contracted by living in the gulf of the fish's maw. [264] Sankhadatta, for his part, having escaped that calamity, and having found and embraced his friend, went from joy to joy. Then being questioned out of curiosity by Bhímabhata, he gave this brief account of his adventures. "On that occasion, when I was swept out of your sight by the force of the waves of the Ganges, I was suddenly swallowed by a very large fish. Then I remained for a long time inside the capacious habitation of his stomach, eating in my hunger his flesh, which I cut off with a knife. To-day Providence somehow or other brought this fish here, and threw it up upon the bank, so that it was killed by these men and I was taken out of its stomach. I have seen again you and the light of the sun, the horizon has been once more illuminated for me. This, my friend, is the story of my adventures, I know no more than this." When Sankhadatta said this, Bhímabhata and all that were present exclaimed in astonishment, "To think that he should have been swallowed in the Ganges by a fish, and that that fish should have got into the sea, and then that from the sea it should have been brought into the Vipásá, and that it should have been killed, and then that Sankhadatta should have come out of it alive. Ah! the way of fate is inscrutable, and wonderful are its works!" While uttering such remarks with Akshakshapanaka and the others, Bhímabhata took Sankhadatta to his own dwelling. And there in high delight he entertained with a bath, clothes, and other needful things, his friend, who had, as it were, been born a second time with the same body from the belly of a fish. And while Bhímabhata was living with him in that country, there came on there a festive procession in honour of Vásuki the king of the snakes. In order to see it, the prince went, surrounded with his friends, to the temple of that chief of the snakes, where great crowds were assembling. He worshipped there in the temple, where his idol was, which was full of long wreaths [265] of flowers in form like serpents, and which therefore resembled the abyss of Pátála, and then going in a southerly direction, he beheld a great lake sacred to Vásuki, studded with red lotuses, resembling the concentrated gleams of the brilliance of the jewels on snakes' crests; [266] and encircled with blue lotuses, which seemed like clouds of smoke from the fire of snake-poison; overhung with trees, that seemed to be worshipping with their flowers blown down by the wind. When he saw it, he said to himself in astonishment, "Compared with this expanded lake, that sea from which Vishnu carried off the goddess of Fortune, seems to me to be only worthy of neglect, for its fortune of beauty is not to be taken from it by anything else." [267] In the meanwhile he saw a maiden, who had come there to bathe, by name Hansávalí, the beautiful daughter of Chandráditya, king of Láta, by Kuvalayavatí; her mortal nature, which was concealed by all her other members moulded like those of gods, was revealed by the winking of her rolling eye. She had ten million perfections darting forth from her flower-soft body, she was with her waist, that might be spanned with the hand, a very bow of Cupid, and the moment she looked at Bhímabhata, she pierced him in the heart with the sidelong arrows of her eyes, and bewildered him. [268] He too, who was a thief of the world's beauty, entered by the oblique path of her eyes the treasure-chamber of her heart, and robbed her of her self-control. Then she sent secretly a trustworthy and discreet maid, and enquired from his friends his name and residence. And after she had bathed, she was taken back to her palace by her attendants, frequently turning round her face to fix her eyes on him. And then Bhímabhata, accompanied by his friends, went to his dwelling, with faltering steps, for he was entangled with the net which his beloved had cast over him. And immediately the princess Hansávalí sent that maid to him as an ambassadress of love, with the message for which he longed. The maid came up to him and said to him in secret, "Prince, the princess Hansávalí solicits you thus, 'When you see me, who love you, being carried away by the stream of love, you should rescue me quickly, you should not remain indifferent upon the bank [269]'" When Bhímabhata heard from the messenger the nectar of his beloved's message, he was delighted at having his life saved, and said to her, "I am in the current, I am not upon the bank; does not my beloved know that? But now, that I have obtained some hope to cling to, [270] I will gladly do her bidding. I will this night come and wait upon her in her private apartments, and no one shall see me, for I will enter concealed by a charm." When he said this to the maid, she was pleased, and went and told it to Hansávalí, and then she remained anxiously expecting an interview with him. And he, in the early part of the night, went adorned with heavenly ornaments, and making himself invisible by repeating forwards the charm bestowed on him by Gangá, entered her splendid chamber which she had previously cleared of attendants. In that chamber, which suggested thoughts of love, which was perfumed with aloes, and adorned with nose-gays of flowers of five hues [271] arranged there, and which therefore resembled the garden of the god of love, he beheld that lovely one exhaling heavenly fragrance, like a blossom put forth by the creeper of the wonderful charm bestowed by Gangá. And then the handsome prince recited the charm backwards, and immediately became visible to that princess. When he beheld her timidly trembling with a joyful agitation that made her hair stand on end, his ornaments immediately tinkled like musical instruments, and he seemed to be dancing with joy to their music. And the maiden hid her face with the shame of love, and seemed to be asking her heart, that caused all that display of emotion, what she was to do now. Then Bhímabhata said to her, "Fair one, why do you allow your heart to exhibit shame, though its feelings have been already revealed? It does not deny the state of affairs; besides how is it possible to conceal this trembling of the limbs and this bursting boddice?" Then Bhímabhata with such words, and other loving persuasions, made the fair one forget her modesty, and married her by the Gándharva form of marriage. And after he had spent that night with her, in sporting like a bee round the lotus of her mouth, he at last tore himself away, and saying, "I will come again at night," returned to his house. And when the chamberlains belonging to Hansávalí entered her chamber the next morning, they saw that her lover had been with her. The ends of her curls were disordered, she had marks of moist teeth and nails, and she seemed as if the god of Love had appeared in person and afflicted her with the wounds of all his arrows. They immediately went and reported the matter to the king, and he secretly appointed spies to watch at night. And Bhímabhata spent the day with his friends in their usual employments, and in the beginning of the night again repaired to the bower of his beloved. When the spies saw that he had entered without being seen, by virtue of his charm, and discovered that he possessed supernatural powers, they went out, and told the king, and he gave them this order, "The being, who has entered a well-guarded room without being seen, cannot be a mere man; so bring him here that I may see what this means. And say to him politely from me, 'Why did you not openly ask me for my daughter? Why did you make a secret of it? For it is difficult to obtain a bridegroom for my daughter as accomplished as yourself.'" When the king had sent off the spies with this message, they went as he commanded, and stood at the door and delivered this message to Bhímabhata. And the resolute prince, perceiving that the king had discovered him, answered them boldly from inside; "Tell the king from me, that to-morrow I will enter his hall of audience, and tell him the truth, for now it is the dead of night." They then went and gave this message to the king and he remained silent. And in the morning Bhímabhata went to rejoin his friends. And putting on a magnificent costume, he went with those seven heroes to the hall of king Chandráditya. When the king saw his splendour, his resolute bearing and handsome appearance, he received him kindly, and made him sit on a throne equal to his own, and then his friend, the Bráhman Sankhadatta, said to the king, "King, this is the son of Ugrabhata the king of Rádhá, Bhímabhata by name; his might is irresistible on account of the wonderful power of the charm which he possesses. And he has come here to sue for the hand of your daughter." When the king heard that, he remembered the occurrence of the night, and seeing that he was a suitable match for his daughter, he exclaimed, "I am fortunate indeed," and accepted the proposal. And after he had made splendid preparations for the marriage, he bestowed his daughter Hansávalí on Bhímabhata with much wealth. Then Bhímabhata, having obtained many elephants, horses, and villages, remained there in great comfort, possessed of Hansávalí and the goddess of Fortune. And in a few days his father-in-law gave him that kingdom of Láta, and, being childless and old, retired to the forest. Then the successful Bhímabhata, having obtained that kingdom, ruled it admirably with the help of those seven heroes, Sankhadatta and the others. Then, in the course of some days, he heard from his spies, that his father king Ugrabhata had gone to Prayága and died there; and that, when he was intent on death, he had anointed his youngest son Samarabhata, the son of the dancing-girl, king of Rádhá. Then he mourned for his father, and performed his funeral ceremonies, and sent a messenger to that Samarabhata with a letter. And in the letter, he sent the following message to the pretender who was treating him unjustly, "Foolish son of a dancing-girl, what business have you to sit on my father's throne, for it belongs to me, though I have this kingdom of Láta; so you must not ascend it." And the messenger went, and after announcing himself, delivered the letter to that Samarabhata, when he was in the hall of assembly. And when Samarabhata read this letter of such an import, under his brother's sign manual, he was angry, and answered, "This baseless presumption is becoming in this ill-conducted man, who was long ago banished by my father from the country, because he was not fit to remain in it. Even the jackal apes the lion, when he is comfortably ensconced in his native cavern, but when he comes within view of the lion, he is discovered to be only a jackal." Such was the answer he roared forth, and he wrote to the same effect in a letter, and sent his return-messenger to carry it to Bhímabhata. So the return-messenger went, and gave, when introduced by the warder, that letter to the king of Láta. And when Bhímabhata had read that letter, he laughed loudly, and said to the return-messenger of his brother--"Go, messenger, and tell that dancing-girl's son from me, 'On that former occasion when you tried to seize the horse, I saved you from Sankhadatta, because you were a child and dear to my father, but I will no longer endure your insolence. I will certainly send you to my father who is so fond of you. Make ready, and know that in a few days I shall have arrived.'" With these words he dismissed the messenger, and then he began his expedition. When that moon of kings, glorious in his magnificence, [272] mounted his elephant which resembled a hill, the great sea of his army was agitated and surged up with a roar, and the horizon was filled with innumerable feudal chiefs and princes arrived for war, [273] and setting out with their forces; and the earth, swiftly trampled by the elephants and horses trooping along in great numbers, groaned and trembled under the weight, as if afraid of being cleft open. In this fashion Bhímabhata marched and came near Rádhá, eclipsing the light of the sun in the heavens with the clouds of dust raised by his army. In the meanwhile king Samarabhata heard of it, and became indignant; and armed himself, and went out with his army to meet him in battle. And those two armies met, like the eastern and western seas, and a great battle took place between the heroes on both sides, awful as the destruction of the world. Then the fire, produced by the loud clashing of swords, which seemed as if it had been kindled by the gnashing of the teeth of the angry god of Death, hid the sky; and javelins flew with their long points resembling eyelashes, and seemed like the glances of the nymphs of heaven, as they gazed on the warriors. Then the field of battle appeared like a stage; its canopy was dust, its music was the shouting of the army, and its dancers palpitating trunks. And a furious [274] torrent of blood, sweeping along heads, and garlanded with trunks, carried off all living creatures, like the night of destruction at the end of the world. But the archer Bhímabhata soon routed the army of his enemies, by means of a combined attack of the mighty warriors Sankhadatta, and Akshakshapanaka, and Chandabhujanga and his fellows, skilled in wrestling, resembling impetuous elephants. And Samarabhata was furious, when his army was routed, and he dashed forward on his chariot, and began to churn the sea of battle, as Mount Mandara churned the ocean. [275] Then Bhímabhata, who was mounted on an elephant, attacked him, and cut his bow in two with his arrows, and also killed all the four horses of his chariot. Then Samarabhata, being prevented from using his chariot, ran and struck with a javelin on the forehead the splendid elephant of Bhímabhata, and the elephant, as soon as it was struck, fell dead on the ground. Then both of them, being deprived of their means of conveyance, had to fight on foot. And the two angry kings, armed with sword and shield, engaged in single combat. But Bhímabhata, though he might have made himself invisible by means of his charm, and so have killed him, out of a regard for fairness, would not kill his enemy in that way. But being a skilful swordsman, he contended against him in open fight, and cut off with his sword the head of that son of the dancing-girl. And when that Samarabhata was slain with his soldiers, and the bands of the Siddhas had applauded from the heavens, and the fight had come to an end, Bhímabhata with his friends entered the city of Rádhá, being praised by heralds and minstrels. Then, returning from a long absence, after slaying his enemy, he delighted his mother, who was eager to behold him, as Ráma did Kausalyá. And the citizens welcomed him, and then he adorned the throne of his father, and took his seat on it, honoured by his father's ministers, who loved his good qualities. And then he honoured all his subjects, who made high festival; and on a lucky day he gave to Sankhadatta the kingdom of Láta. And he sent him to the territory of Láta, escorted by a force composed of natives of that country; and he gave villages and wealth to Akshakshapanaka and his fellows, and he remained surrounded by them, ruling his ancestral realm, with that queen Hansávalí, the daughter of the king of Láta. And, in course of time, he conquered the earth, and carried off the daughters of kings, and became exclusively addicted to the enjoyment of their society. And he devolved his duties on his ministers, and amused himself with the women of his harem, and never left its precincts, being engrossed with drinking and other vices. Then, one day, the hermit Uttanka came of his own accord to visit him, as if he were the time of accomplishment of the previous decree of Siva. And when the hermit came to the door, the king, being blinded with passion, intoxication, and the pride of sovereignty, would not listen, though the warders announced his arrival. Then the hermit was angry, and denounced this curse on the king, "O man blinded with intoxication, you shall fall from your throne, and become a wild elephant." When the king heard that, fear dispelled his intoxication, and he went out, and prostrating himself at the foot of the hermit, began to appease him with humble words. Then the anger of the great sage was calmed, and he said to him, "King, you must become an elephant, that decree cannot be altered; but when you shall have relieved a minister of Mrigánkadatta's, named Prachandasakti, afflicted with the curse of a Nága and blinded, who shall become your guest, and shall tell him your story, you shall be delivered from this curse; and you shall return to the state of a Gandharva, as Siva foretold to you, and then that guest of yours shall recover the use of his eyes." When the hermit Uttanka had said this, he returned as he came, and Bhímabhata was hurled from his throne, and became an elephant. "So know, my friend, that I am that very Bhímabhata, become an elephant, and you are Prachandasakti; I know that my curse is now at an end." When Bhímabhata had said this, he abandoned the form of an elephant, and at once became a Gandharva of heavenly might. And immediately Prachandasakti recovered, to his intense delight, the use of his eyes, and looked upon that Gandharva there. And in the meanwhile the discreet Mrigánkadatta, who had heard their conversation from the bower of creepers, with his other ministers, having discovered that it was indeed his friend, rushed quickly and impetuously forth, and threw his arms round the neck of his minister Prachandasakti. And Prachandasakti looked at him, and feeling as if his body had been irrigated with a sudden flood of nectar, immediately embraced the feet of his lord. Then the Gandharva Bhímabhata comforted those two, who were weeping, both deeply moved at being reunited after so long a separation. And Mrigánkadatta, bowing, said to that Gandharva, "That I have recovered this friend of mine, and that he has recovered his eyesight, is all due to your wondrous might. Honour to you!" When the Gandharva heard that, he said to that prince, "You shall soon recover all your other ministers, and obtain Sasánkavatí as a wife, and become king of the whole earth. So you must not lose heart. Now, auspicious one, I depart, but I will appear to you when you think of me." When the matchless chief of the Gandharvas had said this to the prince, and so testified his friendship for him, as his curse was at an end, and he had obtained prosperous felicity, he flew up swiftly into the sky, making the whole air resound with the tinkling of his beautiful bracelet and necklace. And Mrigánkadatta, having recovered Prachandasakti, and so regained his spirits, spent that day in the wood, accompanied by his ministers. CHAPTER LXXV. Victory to Ganesa, who, when dancing, makes a shower of stars, resembling a rain of flowers, fall from the sky, by a blow of his trunk! Then Mrigánkadatta, having passed that night, set out in the morning from that wood, together with Prachandasakti and his other affectionate ministers, making for Ujjayiní in order to gain Sasánkavatí, and looking out for the rest of his ministers. And as he was going along on his way, he saw his minister Vikramakesarin being carried through the air by a hideously deformed man. And while he was eagerly pointing him out to his other ministers, that minister alighted from the air near him. And quickly dismounting from the shoulder of that man, he came up and embraced the feet of Mrigánkadatta, with his eyes full of tears. And the delighted Mrigánkadatta embraced him in return, and so did his ministers, one after another, and then Vikramakesarin dismissed that man, saying, "Come to me, when I think of you." Then Mrigánkadatta out of curiosity asked Vikramakesarin for the story of his adventures, and he sat down in the forest and related them. The adventures of Vikramakesarin. When I had been separated from you on that occasion by the curse of the Nága, and had wandered about for many days in search of you, I said to myself, "I will make for Ujjayiní, for they will go there quickly," and having formed this intention, I set out for that city. And in course of time I reached a village near it, named Brahmasthala, and there I sat down on the bank of a lake at the foot of a tree. There an old Bráhman, afflicted with the bite of a serpent, came up to me and said, "Rise up from this place, my son, lest you incur my fate. For there is a great serpent here, and I am so tortured by the bite which he has given me, that I am now about to drown myself in this lake." When he said this, I dissuaded him, out of compassion, from committing suicide, and I then and there counteracted the effect of the poison by my knowledge of antidotes. Then the Bráhman eagerly, but with due politeness, asked me the whole story of my life, and when he knew the facts, said to me kindly, "You have to-day saved my life, so receive, hero, this charm for mastering Vetálas, which I inherited from my father. For it is suitable to you who possess all powers, but what, I pray, could a feeble creature, like me, do with it?" When I heard that, I answered that noble Bráhman, "What use can I make of Vetálas, now that I am separated from Mrigánkadatta?" When the Bráhman heard that, he laughed, and went on to say to me, "Do you not know that you can obtain from a Vetála all that you desire? Did not king Trivikramasena obtain of old time the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas by the favour of a Vetála? Listen now, I will tell you his story in proof of it." Here begins the 1st of the 25 tales of a Demon. [276] (Vetála-Panchavinsatiká.) On the banks of the Godávarí there is a place named Pratishthána. In it there lived of old time a famous king, named Trivikramasena, the son of Vikramasena, equal to Indra in might. Every day, when he was in his hall of audience, a mendicant named Kshántisíla came to him, to pay him his respects, and presented him with a fruit. And every day, the king as soon as he received the fruit, gave it into the hand of the superintendent of his treasury who was near him. In this way ten years passed, but one day, when the mendicant had left the hall of audience, after giving the fruit to the king, the king gave it to a young pet monkey, that had escaped from the hands of its keepers, and happened to enter there. While the monkey was eating that fruit, it burst open, and there came out of it a splendid priceless jewel. When the king saw that, he took up the jewel, and asked the treasurer the following question, "Where have you put all those fruits which I have been in the habit of handing over to you, after they were given to me by the mendicant?" When the superintendent of the treasury heard that, he was full of fear, and he said to the king, "I used to throw them into the treasury from the window without opening the door; if your Majesty orders me, I will open it and look for them." When the treasurer said this, the king gave him leave to do so, and he went away, and soon returned, and said to the king, "I see that those fruits have all rotted away in the treasury, and I also see that there is a heap of jewels there resplendent with radiant gleams." When the king heard it, he was pleased, and gave those jewels to the treasurer, and the next day he said to the mendicant, who came as before, "Mendicant, why do you court me every day with great expenditure of wealth? I will not take your fruit to-day until you tell me." When the king said this, the mendicant said to him in private, "I have an incantation to perform which requires the aid of a brave man, I request, hero, that you will assist me in it." When the king heard that, he consented and promised him that he would do so. Then the mendicant was pleased and he went on to say to that king, "Then I shall be waiting for you at night-fall in the approaching black fortnight, in the great cemetery here, under the shade of a banyan-tree, and you must come to me there. The king said--"Well! I will do so." And the mendicant Kshántisíla returned delighted to his own dwelling. Then the heroic monarch, as soon as he had got into the black fortnight, remembered the request of the mendicant, which he had promised to accomplish for him, and as soon as night came, he enveloped his head in a black cloth, and left the palace unperceived, sword in hand, and went fearlessly to the cemetery. It was obscured by a dense and terrible pall of darkness, and its aspect was rendered awful by the ghastly flames from the burning of the funeral pyres, and it produced horror by the bones, skeletons, and skulls of men that appeared in it. In it were present formidable Bhútas and Vetálas, joyfully engaged in their horrible activity, and it was alive with the loud yells of jackals, [277] so that it seemed like a second mysterious tremendous form of Bhairava. And after he had searched about in it, he found that mendicant under a banyan-tree, engaged in making a circle, and he went up to him and said, "Here I am arrived, mendicant; tell me, what can I do for you?" When the mendicant heard that, and saw the king, he was delighted, and said to him--"King, if I have found favour in your eyes, go alone a long way from here towards the south, and you will find an sinsapá-tree. [278] On it there is a dead man hanging up; go and bring him here; assist me in this matter, hero." As soon as the brave king, who was faithful to his promise, heard this, he said, "I will do so," and went towards the south. And after he had gone some way in that direction, along a path revealed by the light of the flaming pyres, he reached with difficulty in the darkness that asoka-tree; the tree was scorched with the smoke of funeral pyres, and smelt of raw flesh, and looked like a Bhúta, and he saw the corpse hanging on its trunk, as it were on the shoulder of a demon. So he climbed up, and cutting the string which held it, flung it to the ground. And the moment it was flung down, it cried out, as if in pain. Then the king, supposing it was alive, came down and rubbed its body out of compassion; that made the corpse utter a loud demoniac laugh. Then the king knew that it was possessed by a Vetála, and said without flinching, "Why do you laugh? Come, let us go off." And immediately he missed from the ground the corpse possessed by the Vetála, and perceived that it was once more suspended on that very tree. Then he climbed up again and brought it down, for the heart of heroes is a gem more impenetrable than adamant. Then king Trivikramasena threw the corpse possessed by a Vetála over his shoulder, and proceeded to go off with it, in silence. And as he was going along, the Vetála in the corpse that was on his shoulder said to him, "King, I will tell you a story to beguile the way, listen." Story of the prince, who was helped to a wife by the son of his father's minister. [279] There is a city named Váránasí, which is the dwelling-place of Siva, inhabited by holy beings, and thus resembles the plateau of mount Kailása. The river Ganges, ever full of water, flows near it, and appears as if it were the necklace ever resting on its neck; in that city there lived of old time a king named Pratápamukuta, who consumed the families of his enemies with his valour, as the fire consumes the forest. He had a son named Vajramukuta, who dashed the god of love's pride in his beauty, and his enemies' confidence in their valour. And that prince had a friend, named Buddhisaríra, whom he valued more than his life, the sagacious son of a minister. Once on a time that prince was amusing himself with that friend, and his excessive devotion to the chase made him travel a long distance. As he was cutting off the long-maned [280] heads of lions with his arrows, as it were the chowries that represented the glory of their valour, he entered a great forest. It seemed like the chosen home of love, with singing cuckoos for bards, fanned by trees with their clusters of blossoms, waving like chowries. In it he and the minister's son saw a great lake, looking like a second sea, the birthplace of lotuses [281] of various colours; and in that pool of gods there was seen by him a maiden of heavenly appearance, who had come there with her attendants to bathe. She seemed to fill the splendid tank with the flood of her beauty, and with her glances to create in it a new forest of blue lotuses. With her face, that surpassed the moon in beauty, she seemed to put to shame the white lotuses, and she at once captivated with it the heart of that prince. The youth too, in the same way, took with a glance such complete possession of her eyes, that she did not regard her own modesty or even her ornaments. And as he was looking at her with his attendants, and wondering who she was, she made, under pretence of pastime, a sign to tell him her country and other particulars about her. She took a lotus from her garland of flowers, and put it in her ear, and she remained for a long time twisting it into the form of an ornament called dantapatra or tooth-leaf, and then she took another lotus and placed it on her head, and she laid her hand significantly upon her heart. The prince did not at that time understand those signs, but his sagacious friend the minister's son did understand them. The maiden soon departed, being led away from that place by her attendants, and when she had reached her own house, she flung herself down on a sofa, but her heart remained with that prince, to justify the sign she had made. The prince, for his part, when without her, was like a Vidyádhara who has lost his magic knowledge, and, returning to his own city, he fell into a miserable condition. And one day the minister's son questioned him in private, speaking of that beauty as easy to obtain, whereupon he lost his self-command and exclaimed, "How is she to be obtained, when neither her name, nor her village, nor her origin is known? So why do you offer me false comfort?" When the prince said this to the minister's son, he answered, "What! did you not see, what she told you by her signs? By placing the lotus in her ear, she meant to say this, 'I live in the realm of king Karnotpala.' By making it into the tooth-leaf ornament she meant to say, 'Know that I am the daughter of a dentist [282] there.' By lifting up the lotus she let you know her name was Padmávatí; and by placing her hand on her heart she told you that it was yours. Now there is a king named Karnotpala in the country of Kalinga; he has a favourite courtier, a great dentist named Sangrámavardhana, and he has a daughter named Padmávatí, the pearl of the three worlds, whom he values more than his life. All this I knew from the talk of the people, and so I understood her signs, which were meant to tell her country and the other particulars about her. [283] When that prince had been told all this by the minister's son, he was pleased with that intelligent man, and rejoiced, as he had now got an opportunity of attaining his object, and, after he had deliberated with him, he set out with him from his palace on the pretence of hunting, but really in search of his beloved, and went again in that direction. And on the way he managed to give his retinue the slip by the speed of his swift horse, and he went to the country of Kalinga accompanied by the minister's son only. There they reached the city of king Karnotpala, and searched for and found the palace of that dentist, and the prince and the minister's son entered the house of an old woman, who lived near there, to lodge. The minister's son gave their horses water and fodder, and placed them there in concealment, and then said to that old woman in the presence of the prince, "Do you know, mother, a dentist named Sangrámavardhana?" When the old woman heard that, she said to him courteously, "I know him well; I was his nurse, and he has now made me attend upon his daughter as a duenna; but I never go there at present, as I have been deprived of my clothes, for my wicked son, who is a gambler, takes away my clothes as soon as he sees them." When the minister's son heard this, he was delighted, and he gratified the old woman with the gift of his upper garment and other presents, and went on to say to her, "You are a mother to us, so do what we request you to do in secret; go to that Padmávatí, the daughter of the dentist, and say to her, 'The prince, whom you saw at the lake, has come here, and out of love he has sent me to tell you.'" When the old woman heard this, she consented, being won over by the presents, and went to Padmávatí, and came back in a moment. And when the prince and the minister's son questioned her, she said to them, "I went and told her secretly that you had come. When she heard that, she scolded me, and struck me on both cheeks with her two hands smeared with camphor. So I have come back weeping, distressed at the insult. See here, my children, these marks of her fingers on my face." When she said this, the prince was despondent, as he despaired of attaining his object, but the sagacious minister's son said to him in private, "Do not despond, for by keeping her own counsel and scolding the old woman, and striking her on the face with her ten fingers white with camphor, she meant to say, 'Wait for these remaining ten moonlight nights of the white fortnight, for they are unfavourable to an interview.'" After the minister's son had comforted the prince with these words, he went and sold secretly in the market some gold, which he had about him, and made that old woman prepare a splendid meal, and then those two ate it with that old woman. After the minister's son had spent ten days in this fashion, he again sent the old woman to Padmávatí, to see how matters stood. And she, being fond of delicious food, liquor, and other enjoyments of the kind, went again to the dwelling-house of Padmávatí, to please her guests, and returned and said to them, "I went there to-day and remained silent, but she of her own accord taunted me with that crime of having brought your message, and again struck me here on the breast with three fingers dipped in red dye, so I have returned here thus marked by her." When the minister's son heard this, he said, of his own accord, to the prince, "Do not entertain any despondent notions, for by placing the impression of her three fingers marked with red dye on this woman's heart, she meant to say; 'I cannot receive you for three nights.'" When the minister's son had said this to the prince, he waited till three days had passed, and again sent the old woman to Padmávatí. She went to her palace, and Padmávatí honoured her and gave her food, and lovingly entertained her that day with wine and other enjoyments. And in the evening, when the old woman wished to go back to her house, there arose outside a terrible tumult. Then the people were heard exclaiming, "Alas! Alas! a mad elephant has escaped from the post to which he was tied, and is rushing about, trampling men to death." Then Padmávatí said to that old woman, "You must not go by the public road, which is rendered unsafe by the elephant, so we will put you on a seat, with a rope fastened to it to support it, and let you down by this broad window here into the garden of the house, there you must get up a tree and cross this wall, and then let yourself down by another tree and go to your own house." After she had said this, she had the old woman let down from the window by her maid into the garden, by means of that seat with a rope fastened to it. She went by the way pointed out to her, and related the whole story, exactly as it happened, to the prince and the minister's son. Then the minister's son said to the prince, "Your desire is accomplished, for she has shewn you by an artifice the way you should take; so go there this very day, as soon as evening sets in, and by this way enter the palace of your beloved." When the minister's son said this, the prince went with him into the garden, by the way over the wall pointed out by the old woman. There he saw that rope hanging down with the seat, and at the top of it were some maids, who seemed to be looking out for his arrival. So he got on to the seat, and the moment those female servants saw him, they pulled him up with the rope, and he entered the presence of his beloved through the window. When he had entered, the minister's son returned to his lodging. And when the prince entered, he beheld that Padmávatí with a face like a full moon, shedding forth beauty like beams, like the night of the full moon remaining concealed through fear of the black fortnight. As soon as she saw him, she rose up boldly, and welcomed him with affectionate embraces and other endearments natural in one who had waited for him so long. Then the prince married that fair one by the Gándharva form of marriage, and all his wishes being now fulfilled, remained with her in concealment. And after he had lived with her some days, he said to her one night, "My friend the minister's son came with me and is staying here, and he is now left alone in the house of your duenna; I must go and pay him a visit, fair one, and then I will return to you." When the cunning Padmávatí heard that, she said to her lover, "Come now, my husband, I have a question to ask you; did you guess the meaning of those signs which I made, or was it that friend of yours the minister's son?" When she said this, the prince said to her, "I did not guess anything at all, but that friend of mine, the minister's son, who is distinguished for superhuman insight, guessed it all, and told it to me." When the fair one heard this, she reflected, and said to him, "Then you have acted wrongly in not telling me about him before. Since he is your friend, he is my brother, and I must always honour him before all others with gifts of betel and other luxuries." When she had dismissed him with these words, the prince left the palace at night by the way by which he came, and returned to his friend. And in the course of conversation he told him, that he had told his beloved how he guessed the meaning of the signs which she made. But the minister's son did not approve of this proceeding on his part, considering it imprudent. And so the day dawned on them conversing. Then, as they were again talking together after the termination of the morning prayer, the confidante of Padmávatí came in with betel and cooked food in her hand. She asked after the health of the minister's son, and after giving him the dainties, in order by an artifice to prevent the prince from eating any of them, she said, in the course of conversation, that her mistress was awaiting his arrival to feast and spend the day with her, and immediately she departed unobserved. Then the minister's son said to the prince; "Now observe, prince, I will shew you something wonderful." Thereupon he gave that cooked food to a dog to eat, and the dog, as soon as he had eaten it, fell dead upon the spot. When the prince saw that, he said to the minister's son, "What is the meaning of this marvel?" And he answered him, "The truth is that the lady has found out that I am intelligent, by the fact that I guessed the meaning of her signs, and so she has sent me this poisoned food in order to kill me, for she is deeply in love with you, and thinks that you, prince, will never be exclusively devoted to her while I am alive, but being under my influence, will perhaps leave her, and go to your own city. So give up the idea of being angry with her, persuade the high-spirited woman to leave her relations, and I will invent and tell you an artifice for carrying her off." When the minister's son had said this, the prince said to him, "You are rightly named Buddhisaríra as being an incarnation of wisdom;" and at the very moment that he was thus praising him, there was suddenly heard outside a general cry from the sorrowing multitude, "Alas! Alas! the king's infant son is dead." The minister's son was much delighted at hearing this, and he said to the prince, "Repair now to Padmávatí's palace at night, and there make her drink so much, that she shall be senseless and motionless with intoxication, and apparently dead. And when she is asleep, make a mark on her hip with a red hot iron spike, and take away all her ornaments, and return by letting yourself down from the window by a rope; and after that I will take steps to make everything turn out prosperously." When the minister's son had said this, he had a three-pronged spike made, with points like the bristles of a boar, and gave it to the prince. And the prince took in his hand that weapon which resembled the crooked hard hearts of his beloved and of his friend, which were firm as black iron; and saying, "I will do as you direct," went at night to the palace of Padmávatí as before, for princes should never hesitate about following the advice of an excellent minister. There he made his beloved helpless with drink, and marked her on the hip with the spike, and took away her ornaments, and then he returned to that friend of his. And he shewed him the ornaments, and told him what he had done. Then the minister's son considered his design as good as accomplished. And the next morning the minister's son went to the cemetery, and promptly disguised himself as an ascetic, and he made the prince assume the guise of a disciple. And he said to him, "Go and take the pearl necklace which is part of this set of ornaments, and pretend to try to sell it in the market, but put a high price on it, that no one may be willing to buy it, and that every one may see it being carried about, and if the police here should arrest you, say intrepidly, 'My spiritual preceptor gave it me to sell.'" When the minister's son had sent off the prince on this errand, he went and wandered about in the market-place, publicly showing the necklace. And while he was thus engaged, he was seen and arrested by the police, who were on the lookout for thieves, as information had been given about the robbery of the dentist's daughter. And they immediately took him to the chief magistrate of the town; and he, seeing that he was dressed as an ascetic, said to him courteously, "Reverend sir, where did you get this necklace of pearls which was lost in this city, for the ornaments of the dentist's daughter were stolen during the night?" When the prince, who was disguised as an ascetic, heard this, he said, "My spiritual preceptor gave it me; come and question him." Then the magistrate of the city came to the minister's son, and bowed, and said to him, "Reverend sir, where did you get this pearl necklace that is in the possession of your pupil?" When the cunning fellow heard that, he took him aside and said, "I am an ascetic, in the habit of wandering perpetually backwards and forwards in the forests. As chance would have it, I arrived here, and as I was in the cemetery at night, I saw a band of witches collected from different quarters. And one of them brought the prince, with the lotus of his heart laid bare, and offered him to Bhairava. And the witch, who possessed great powers of delusion, being drunk, tried to take away my rosary, while I was reciting my prayers, making horrible contortions with her face. And as she carried the attempt too far, I got angry, and heating with a charm the prongs of my trident, I marked her on the loins. And then I took this necklace from her neck. And now I must sell this necklace, as it does not suit an ascetic." When the magistrate heard this, he went and informed the king. When the king heard it, he concluded that that was the pearl necklace which had been lost, and he sent a trustworthy old woman to see if the dentist's daughter was really marked with a trident on the loins. The old woman came back and said that the mark could be clearly seen. Then the king made up his mind that she was a witch, and had really destroyed his child. So he went in person to that minister's son, who was personating an ascetic, and asked him how he ought to punish Padmávatí; and by his advice he ordered her to be banished from the city, though her parents lamented over her. And when she was banished, and was left in the forest, though naked, she did not abandon the body, supposing that it was all an artifice devised by the minister's son. And in the evening the minister's son and the prince, who had abandoned the dress of ascetics, and were mounted on their horses, came upon her lamenting. And they consoled her, and mounted her upon a horse, and took her to their own kingdom. There the prince lived happily with her. But the dentist, supposing that his daughter had been devoured by wild beasts in the forest, died of grief, and his wife followed him. When the Vetála had said this, he went on to say to the king, "Now I have a doubt about this story, resolve it for me; Was the minister's son guilty of the death of this married couple, or the prince, or Padmávatí? Tell me, for you are the chief of sages. And if, king, you do not tell me the truth, though you know it, this head of yours shall certainly split in a hundred pieces." When the Vetála said this, the king, who discerned the truth, out of fear of being cursed, gave him this answer--"O thou skilled in magic arts, what difficulty is there about it? Why, none of the three was in fault, but the whole of the guilt attaches to king Karnotpala." The Vetála then said, "Why, what did the king do? Those three were instrumental in the matter. Are the crows in fault when the swans eat the rice?" Then the king said, "Indeed no one of the three was in fault, for the minister's son committed no crime, as he was forwarding his master's interests, and Padmávatí and the prince, being burnt with the fire of the arrows of the god of Love, and being therefore undiscerning and ignorant, were not to blame, as they were intent on their own object. But the king Karnotpala, as being untaught in treatises of policy, and not investigating by means of spies the true state of affairs even among his own subjects, and not comprehending the tricks of rogues, and inexperienced in interpreting gestures and other external indications, is to be considered guilty, on account of the indiscreet step which he took." When the Vetála, who was in the corpse, heard this, as the king by giving this correct answer had broken his silence, he immediately left his shoulder, and went somewhere unobserved by the force of his magic power, in order to test his persistence; and the intrepid king at once determined to recover him. NOTE. An account of the various forms of the introduction to the XXV Tales of a Demon will be found in Oesterley's German translation of the Baitál Pachísí. The Hindi version contains the well-known story of Theodosius the younger and his wife Athenais or Eudokia. The Mongolian form differs widely from that in our text. Seven brothers, sorcerers, live in India; a mile from them live two Khan's sons; the elder of these studies magic under the seven enchanters for seven years, but learns nothing; the younger acquires their art in a moment, and both return to their palace. The younger turns himself into a horse, which the elder by his order sells to the seven enchanters. These try to kill the horse, but the Khan's son then turns himself into a fish, which the enchanters pursue in the form of seven sea-gulls, then into a dove, which they pursue as seven hawks, then he takes refuge with Nágárjuna, becoming the chief bead in his rosary, and asks him to put this bead in his mouth and to strew the rest on the ground. The beads then become worms which the sorcerers pick up in the form of hens. The Khan's son changes himself into a man, and kills the hens with a stick, when lo! seven human corpses are seen lying on the ground. As a penance for this crime the Khan's son is sent to fetch the Siddhi-kür, which he fastens up in a bag, and which behaves in much the same way as the Vetála does in our text. It is remarkable that there are no questions addressed by the Siddhi-kür to his captor. At the end of every story the Khan's son utters an involuntary, often meaningless exclamation, of which the Siddhi-kür takes advantage. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 174 and 175.) Oesterley refers to an Arabian form of the 1st story in Scott's Tales, Anecdotes and Letters, 1800, p. 108. A painter falls in love with the picture of a beauty, and finds that the original is in the possession of a certain minister. He penetrates in disguise into the minister's harem, wounds his beloved in the hand and takes away her veil. He then goes in the disguise of a pilgrim to the king, and says that he has seen six witches, and that he has wounded one of them, who left her veil behind her. The veil is recognized, the owner produced, convicted by her veil, and as a witch flung into a chasm. There the painter finds her, rescues her and carries her off. See also the 1001 Nights, Breslau, 1, p. 245 (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 182 and 183). CHAPTER LXXVI. (Vetála 2.) Then king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree to fetch the Vetála. And when he arrived there, and looked about in the darkness by the help of the light of the funeral pyres, he saw the corpse lying on the ground groaning. Then the king took the corpse, with the Vetála in it, on his shoulder, and set out quickly and in silence to carry it to the appointed place. Then the Vetála again said to the king from his shoulder, "King, this trouble, into which you have fallen, is great and unsuitable to you; so I will tell you a tale to amuse you, listen." Story of the three young Bráhmans who restored a dead lady to life. There is, on the banks of the river Yamuná, a district assigned to Bráhmans, named Brahmasthala. In it there lived a Bráhman, named Agnisvámin, who had completely mastered the Vedas. To him there was born a very beautiful daughter named Mandáravatí. Indeed, when Providence had created this maiden of novel and priceless beauty, he was disgusted with the nymphs of Heaven, his own previous handiwork. And when she grew up, there came there from Kányakubja three young Bráhmans, equally matched in all accomplishments. And each one of these demanded the maiden from her father for himself, and would sooner sacrifice his life than allow her to be given to another. But her father would not give her to any one of them, being afraid that, if he did so, he would cause the death of the others; so the damsel remained unmarried. And those three remained there day and night, with their eyes exclusively fixed on the moon of her countenance, as if they had taken upon themselves a vow to imitate the partridge. [284] Then the maiden Mandáravatí suddenly contracted a burning fever, which ended in her death. Then the young Bráhmans, distracted with grief, carried her when dead, after she had been duly adorned, to the cemetery, and burnt her. And one of them built a hut there and made her ashes his bed, and remained there living on the alms he could get by begging. And the second took her bones and went with them to the Ganges, and the third became an ascetic and went travelling through foreign lands. As the ascetic was roaming about, he reached a village named Vajraloka. And there he entered as a guest the house of a certain Bráhman. And the Bráhman received him courteously. So he sat down to eat; and in the meanwhile a child there began to cry. When, in spite of all efforts to quiet it, it would not stop, the mistress of the house fell into a passion, and taking it up in her arms, threw it into the blazing fire. The moment the child was thrown in, as its body was soft, it was reduced to ashes. When the ascetic, who was a guest, saw this, his hair stood on end, and he exclaimed, "Alas! Alas! I have entered the house of a Bráhman-demon. So I will not eat food here now, for such food would be sin in a visible material shape." When he said this, the householder said to him, "See the power of raising the dead to life inherent in a charm of mine, which is effectual as soon as recited." When he had said this, he took the book containing the charm and read it, and threw on to the ashes some dust, over which the charm had been recited. [285] That made the boy rise up alive, exactly as he was before. Then the mind of the Bráhman ascetic was quieted, and he was able to take his meal there. And the master of the house put the book up on a bracket, and after taking food, went to bed at night, and so did the ascetic. But when the master of the house was asleep, the ascetic got up timidly, and took the book, with the desire of restoring his beloved to life. And he left the house with the book, and travelling day and night at last reached the cemetery, where that beloved of his had been burnt. And at that moment he saw the second Bráhman arrive there, who had gone to throw her bones into the river Ganges. And having also found the one who remained in the cemetery sleeping on her ashes, having built a hut over them, he said to the two, "Remove this hut, in order that by the power of a certain charm I may raise up my beloved alive from her ashes." Having earnestly solicited them to do this, and having overturned that hut, the Bráhman ascetic opened the book, and read the charm. And after thus charming some dust, he threw it on the ashes, and that made Mandáravatí rise up alive. And as she had entered the fire, she possessed, when resuscitated, a body that had come out of it more splendid than before, as if made of gold. [286] When the three Bráhmans saw her resuscitated in this form, they immediately became love-sick, and quarrelled with one another, each desiring her for himself. And the first said, "She is my wife, for she was won by the power of my charm." And the second said, "She belongs to me, for she was produced by the efficacy of sacred bathing-places." And the third said, "She is mine, for I preserved her ashes, and resuscitated her by asceticism." "Now king, give judgment to decide their dispute; whose wife ought the maiden to be? If you know and do not say, your head shall fly in pieces." When the king heard this from the Vetála, he said to him, "The one who restored her to life by a charm, though he endured hardship, must be considered her father, because he performed that office for her, and not her husband; and he who carried her bones to the Ganges is considered her son; but he, who out of love lay on her ashes, and so remained in the cemetery embracing her and practising asceticism, he is to be called her husband, for he acted like one in his deep affection." [287] When the Vetála heard this from king Trivikramasena, who had broken silence by uttering it, he left his shoulder, and went back invisible to his own place. But the king, who was bent on forwarding the object of the mendicant, made up his mind to fetch him again, for men of firm resolution do not desist from accomplishing a task they have promised to perform, even though they lose their lives in the attempt. NOTE. Oesterley, in the notes to his German translation of the Baitál Pachísí, refers to the Turkish Tútínámah in which the lady dies of despair at the difficulty of the choice, as in the Tamul version. [In the Hindi version she dies of snake-bite.] She is brought back to life by a good beating. The first suitor opens the grave, the second advises the use of the cudgel, the third carries it out. This method of restoring people, who die suddenly, to life by a good beating, is found in a Persian story, professing to be derived from a book "Post nubila Phoebus," in which the physician bears the name of Kati, and asserts that he learnt the method from an old Arab. The story is found in Epistolæ Turcicæ et Narrationes Persicæ editæ et Latine conversæ a Joh. Ury. Oxonii, 1771, 4o, pp. 26 and 27. This collection, which contains not the least hint of its origin, is particularly interesting as it contains the VIIIth story of the Siddhikür; "The Painter and the Wood-carver." [See Sagas from the Far East, p. 97.] The Episode of the stealing of the magic book is found, quite separated from the context, in many MS. versions of the Gesta Romanorum: see Appendix to Oesterley's edition. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 183-185.) CHAPTER LXXVII. (Vetála 3.) Then the heroic king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree, to fetch the Vetála. And he found him there in the corpse, and again took him up on his shoulder, and began to return with him in silence. And as he was going along, the Vetála, who was on his back, said to him, "It is wonderful, king, that you are not cowed with this going backwards and forwards at night. So I will tell you another story to solace you, listen." Story of the king, and the two wise birds. There is on the earth a famous city named Pátaliputra. In it there lived of old time a king named Vikramakesarin, whom Providence made a storehouse of virtues as well as of jewels. And he possessed a parrot of godlike intellect, knowing all the sástras, that had been born in that condition owing to a curse, and its name was Vidagdhachúdámani. And the prince married as a wife, by the advice of the parrot, a princess of equal birth, of the royal family of Magadha, named Chandraprabhá. That princess also possessed a similar hen-maina, of the name of Somiká, remarkable for knowledge and discernment. And the two, the parrot and the maina, remained there in the same cage, assisting with their discernment their master and mistress. One day the parrot became enamoured of the maina, and said to her, "Marry me, fair one, as we sleep, perch, and feed in the same cage." But the maina answered him, "I do not desire intimate union with a male, for all males are wicked and ungrateful." The parrot retorted, "It is not true that males are wicked, but females are wicked and cruel-hearted." And so a dispute arose between them. The two birds then made a bargain that, if the parrot won, he should have the maina for wife, and if the maina won, the parrot should be her slave, and they came before the prince to get a true judgment. The prince, who was in his father's judgment-hall, heard the point at issue between them, and then said to the maina, "Tell me, how are males ungrateful?" Then the maina said, "Listen," and in order to establish her contention, proceeded to relate this story illustrating the faults of males. The maina's story. [288] There is on the earth a famous city, of the name of Kámandakí. In it there was a rich merchant, of the name of Arthadatta. And he had a son born to him, of the name of Dhanadatta. When his father died, the young man became dissipated. And rogues got round him, and plunged him in the love of gambling and other vices. In truth the society of the wicked is the root of the tree of vice. In a short time his wealth was exhausted by dissipation, and being ashamed of his poverty, he left his own country, to wander about in foreign lands. And in the course of his travels, he reached a place named Chandanapura, and desiring food, he entered the house of a certain merchant. As fate would have it, the merchant, seeing that he was a handsome youth, asked him his descent and other things, and finding out that he was of good birth, entertained him, and adopted him as a protégé. And he gave him his daughter Ratnávalí, with a dower, and thenceforth Dhanadatta lived in his father-in-law's house. And in the course of some days, he forgot in his present happiness his former misery, and having acquired wealth, and longing for fresh dissipation, he wished to go back to his own land. Then the rascal with difficulty wrung a permission from his unwilling father-in-law, whose daughter was his only child, and taking with him his wife, covered with ornaments, accompanied by an old woman, set out from that place, with a party of three in all. And in course of time he reached a distant wood, and on the plea that there was danger of robbers, he took those ornaments from his wife and got them into his own possession. Alas! Observe that the heart of ungrateful males, addicted to the hateful vices of dicing and drabbing, is as hard as a sword. Then the villain, being determined to kill his wife, though she was virtuous, for the sake of her wealth, threw her and the old woman into a ravine. And after he had thrown them there, he went away. The old woman was killed, but his wife was caught in a mass of creepers and did not die. And she slowly climbed up out of the chasm, weeping bitterly, supporting herself by clinging to grass and creepers, for the appointed end of her life had not yet come. And asking her way, step by step, she arrived, by the road by which she came, at the house of her father, with difficulty, for her limbs were sorely bruised. When she arrived there suddenly, in this state, her mother and father questioned her eagerly. And the virtuous lady weeping told this tale, "We were robbed on the way by bandits, and my husband was dragged away bound; the old woman died, but I survived, though I fell into a ravine. Then I was dragged out of the ravine by a certain benevolent traveller, who came that way, and by the favour of destiny I have arrived here." When the good Ratnávalí said this, her father and mother comforted her, and she remained there, thinking only of her husband. And in course of time her husband Dhanadatta, who had gone back to his own country, and wasted that wealth in gambling, said to himself, "I will go and fetch more wealth, begging it from my father-in-law, and I will tell him that I have left his daughter in my house here." Thinking thus in his heart, he set out for that house of his father-in-law, and when he drew near, his wife beheld him from a distance, and she ran and fell at his feet, though he was a villain. For, though a husband is wicked, a good wife does not alter her feelings towards him. And when he was frightened, she told him all the fictitious story she had previously told her parents about the robbery, her fall, and so on. Then he entered fearlessly with her the house of his father-in-law; and his father-in-law and mother-in-law, when they saw him, welcomed him joyfully. And his father-in-law called his friends together, and made a great feast on the occasion, exclaiming, "It is indeed a happy thing, that my son-in-law has been let go with life by the robbers." Then Dhanadatta lived happily with that wife of his Ratnávalí, enjoying the wealth of his father-in-law. But, fie! what the cruel man did one night, though it should not be told for shame, must still for the story's sake be related. He killed his wife when asleep in his bosom, and took away all her ornaments, and then went away unobserved to his own country. "So wicked are males!" When the maina had said this, the king said to the parrot--"Now say your say."--Then the parrot said--"King, females are of intolerable audacity, immoral and wicked; hear a tale in proof of it." The parrot's story. [289] There is a city of the name of Harshavatí, and in it there was a leading merchant named Dharmadatta, possessed of many crores. And that merchant had a daughter named Vasudattá, matchless in beauty, whom he loved more than his life. And she was given to an excellent young merchant named Samudradatta, equal to her in rank, distinguished for wealth and youth, who was an object that the eyes of lovely women loved to feast on, as the partridges on the rays of the moon, and who dwelt in the city of Támraliptí which is inhabited by honourable men. Once on a time, the merchant's daughter, while she was living in her father's house, and her husband was in his own country, saw at a distance a certain young and good-looking man. The fickle woman, deluded by Mára, [290] invited him by means of a confidante, and made him her secret paramour. And from that time forth she spent every night with him, and her affections were fixed upon him only. But one day the husband of her youth returned from his own land, appearing to her parents like delight in bodily form. And on that day of rejoicing she was adorned, but she would have nothing to say to her husband in spite of her mother's injunctions, but when he spoke to her, she pretended to be asleep, as her heart was fixed on another. And then her husband, being drowsy with wine, and tired with his journey, was overpowered by sleep. In the meanwhile, as all the people of the house, having eaten and drunk, were fast asleep, a thief made a hole in the wall and entered their apartment. At that very moment the merchant's daughter rose up, without seeing the thief, and went out secretly, having made an assignation with her lover. When the thief saw that, his object being frustrated, he said to himself, "She has gone out in the dead of night adorned with those very ornaments which I came here to steal; so I will watch where she goes." When the thief had formed this intention, he went out, and followed that merchant's daughter Vasudattá, keeping an eye on her, but himself unobserved. But she, with flowers and other things of the kind in her hands, went out, accompanied by a single confidante, who was in the secret, and entered a garden at no great distance outside the city. And in it she saw her lover, who had come there to meet her, hanging dead on a tree, with a halter round his neck, for the city-guards had caught him there at night and hanged him, on the supposition that he was a thief. Then she was distracted and beside herself, and exclaiming, "I am ruined," she fell on the ground and lamented with plaintive cries. Then she took down her dead paramour from the tree, and placing him in a sitting position, she adorned him with unguents and flowers, and though he was senseless, embraced him, with mind blinded by passion and grief. And when in her sorrow she raised up his mouth and kissed it, her dead paramour, being animated by a Vetála, suddenly bit off her nose. Then she left him in confusion and agony, but still the unfortunate woman came back once more, and looked at him to see if he was still alive. And when she saw that the Vetála had left his body, and that he was dead and motionless, she departed slowly, weeping with fear and humiliation. In the meanwhile the thief, who was hidden there, saw all, and said to himself, "What is this that this wicked woman has done? Alas! the mind of females is terrible and black like a dark well, unfathomable, exceedingly deep for a fall. [291] So I wonder what she will do now." After these reflections, the thief again followed her at a distance, out of curiosity. She went on and entered her own chamber, where her husband was asleep, and cried out weeping, "Help! Help! This wicked enemy, calling himself a husband, has cut off my nose, though I have done nothing wrong." Then her husband, and her father, and the servants, hearing her repeated cries, woke up, and arose in a state of excitement. Then her father, seeing that her nose had been recently taken off, was angry, and had her husband bound as having injured his wife. But even while he was being bound, he remained speechless, like a dumb man, and said nothing, for all the listeners, his father-in-law and the others, had altogether turned against him. [292] When the thief had seen all this, he slipped away nimbly, and the night, which was spent in tumult, gradually passed away, and then the merchant's son was taken by his father-in-law to the king, together with his wife who had been deprived of her nose. And the king, after he had been informed by them of the circumstances, ordered the execution of the young merchant, on the ground that he had maimed his own wife, rejecting with contempt his version of the story. Then, as he was being led to the place of execution, with drums beating, the thief came up to the king's officers and said to them, "You ought not to put this man to death without cause; I know the circumstances, take me to the king, that I may tell him the whole story." When the thief said this, they took him to the king, and after he had received a promise of pardon, he told him the whole history of the night from the beginning. And he said, "If your Majesty does not believe my words, look at once at the woman's nose, which is in the mouth of that corpse." When the king heard that, he sent servants to look, and finding that the statement was true, he gave orders that the young merchant should not suffer capital punishment. But he banished his wicked wife from the country, after cutting off her ears also, and punished his father-in-law by confiscating all his wealth, and being pleased with the thief, he made him chief magistrate of the city. "So you see that females are naturally wicked and treacherous." When the parrot had told this tale, the curse imposed on him by Indra lost its force, and he became once more the Gandharva Chitraratha, and assuming a celestial form, he went to heaven. And at the same moment the maina's curse came to an end, and she became the heavenly nymph Tilottamá, and went at once to heaven. And so their dispute remained undecided in the judgment-hall. When the Vetála had told this tale, he again said to the king, "So let your Majesty decide, which are the worst, males or females. But if you know and do not say, your head shall split in pieces." When the king was asked this question by the Vetála, that was on his shoulder, he said to him, "Chief of magicians, women are the worst. For it is possible that once in a way a man may be so wicked, but females are, as a rule, always such everywhere." When the king said this, the Vetála disappeared, as before, from his shoulder, and the king once more resumed the task of fetching him. NOTE. Oesterley tells us that in the Vetála Cadai the two stories are told by two parrots, and the same is the case in the Turkish Tútínámah, Rosen, 2, p. 92. The 1st story is found in the Turkish Tútínámah. The principal difference is that the parents of the extravagant man die after his first crime; after he has spent his property, he begs in a cemetery, and is there recognized by his wife; they live some time together, and then set out to return to his house. On the way they pass the old well, and there he murders her. There are some similar points in the 11th story of the Siddhikür. [See Sagas from the Far East, pp. 120-125.] The second story is found in Babington's Vetála Cadai, p. 44. The lover receives a mortal wound, being taken for a thief, and in the agony of death bites off the nose of the adulteress. She smears her husband's betel-knife with the blood, and accuses him of the murder. The city-guards clear the matter up. The 2nd story is found in a very different form in the Siddhikür, No. 10; in Jülg, p. 100. [See Sagas from The Far East, pp. 115-119.] Here a younger brother is not invited to supper by an elder, so he determines to rob him out of revenge. He observes his brother's wife go to a cemetery to see her dead lover, who, when she tries to feed him by force, bites off her nose and the tip of her tongue. Of course when she accuses her husband, the younger brother reveals the secret. The story in the Turkish Tútínámah, Rosen, 2, p. 96, Wickerhauser, p. 212, closely resembles Somadeva's. The lovers are surprised by the city-guards, who crucify the man, and let the woman go. The man in the agony of death bites her nose off, and she accuses her husband of the deed; he is then condemned to lose his nose. But a thief, who has crept into the house, and has then followed the adulteress, reveals the secret, and the woman is thereupon drowned. The story in the Panchatantra, Benfey, II, p. 40, only resembles this in its conclusion. [See Johnson's Hitopadesa, p. 85.] It is no doubt a clever adaptation of the end of this story. The tale has been traced through all its migrations by Benfey, Vol. I, p. 140. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 187-191.) CHAPTER LXXVIII. (Vetála 4.) Then king Trivikramasena again went at night to that asoka-tree in the cemetery: and he fearlessly took that Vetála that was in the corpse, though it uttered a horrible laugh, and placed it on his shoulder, and set out in silence. And as he was going along, the Vetála, that was on his shoulder, said to him again, "King, why do you take all this trouble for the sake of this wicked mendicant? In truth you show no discrimination in taking all this fruitless labour. So hear from me this story to amuse you on the way." Story of Víravara. There is a city on the earth rightly named Sobhávatí. In it there lived a king of great valour, called Súdraka. The fire of that victorious king's might was perpetually fanned by the wind of the chowries waved by the captured wives of his enemies. I ween that the earth was so glorious during the reign of that king, owing to the uninterrupted practice of righteousness that prevailed, that she forgot all her other sovereigns, even Ráma. Once on a time a Bráhman, of the name of Víravara, came from Málava to take service under that king who loved heroes. His wife's name was Dharmavatí, his son was Sattvavara, and his daughter was Víravatí. These three composed his family; and his attendants were another three, at his side a dagger, a sword in one hand, and a splendid shield in the other. Although he had so small a retinue, he demanded from the king five hundred dínárs a day by way of salary. And king Súdraka, perceiving that his appearance indicated great courage, gave him the salary he desired. But he felt curious to know whether, as his retinue was so small, he employed so many gold coins to feed his vices, or lavished them on some worthy object. So he had him secretly dogged by spies, in order to discover his mode of life. And it turned out that every day Víravara had an interview with the king in the morning, and stood at his palace-gate in the middle of the day, sword in hand; and then he went home and put into the hand of his wife a hundred dínárs of his salary for food, and with a hundred he bought clothes, unguents and betel; and after bathing, he set apart a hundred for the worship of Vishnu and Siva; and he gave two hundred by way of charity to poor Bráhmans. This was the distribution which he made of the five hundred every day. Then he fed the sacrificial fire with clarified butter and performed other ceremonies, and took food, and then he again went and kept guard at the gate of the palace alone at night, sword in hand. When the king Súdraka heard from his spies, that Víravara always followed this righteous custom, he rejoiced in his heart; and he ordered those spies, who had dogged his path, to desist; and he considered him worthy of especial honour as a distinguished hero. Then in course of time, after Víravara had easily tided through the hot weather, when the rays of the sun were exceedingly powerful, the monsoon came roaring, bearing a brandished sword of lightning, as if out of envy against Víravara, and smiting [293] with rain-drops. And though at that time a terrible bank of clouds poured down rain day and night, Víravara remained motionless, as before, at the gate of the palace. And king Súdraka, having beheld him in the day from the top of his palace, again went up to it at night, to find out whether he was there or not; and he cried out from it,--"Who waits there at the palace-gate?" When Víravara heard that, he answered, "I am here, your Majesty." Then king Súdraka thought to himself, "Ah! Víravara is a man of intrepid courage and devotedly attached to me. So I must certainly promote him to an important post." After the king had said this to himself, he came down from the roof of his palace, and entering his private apartments, went to bed. And the next evening, when a cloud was violently raining with a heavy downfall, and black darkness was spread abroad, obscuring the heaven, [294] the king once more ascended the roof of the palace to satisfy his curiosity, and being alone, he cried out in a clear voice, "Who waits there at the palace-gate?" Again Víravara said, "I am here." And while the king was lost in admiration at seeing his courage, he suddenly heard a woman weeping in the distance, distracted with despair, uttering only the piteous sound of wailing. When the king heard that, pity arose in his mind, and he said to himself, "There is no oppressed person in my kingdom, no poor or afflicted person; so who is this woman, that is thus weeping alone at night?" Then he gave this order to Víravara, who was alone below, "Listen, Víravara; there is some woman weeping in the distance; go and find out who she is and why she is weeping." When Víravara heard that, he said, "I will do so," and set out thence with his dagger in his belt, and his sword in his hand. He looked upon the world as a Rákshasa black with fresh clouds, having the lightning flashing from them by way of an eye, raining large drops of rain instead of stones. And king Súdraka, seeing him starting alone on such a night, and being penetrated with pity and curiosity, came down from the top of the palace, and taking his sword, set out close behind him, alone and unobserved. And Víravara went on persistently in the direction of the weeping, and reached a tank outside the city, and saw there that woman in the middle of the water uttering this lament, "Hero! merciful man! Generous man! How can I live without you?" And Víravara, who was followed by the king, said with astonishment, "Who are you, and why do you thus weep?"--Then she answered him, "Dear Víravara, know that I am this earth, and king Súdraka is now my righteous lord, but on the third day from this his death will take place, and whence shall I obtain such another lord? So I am grieved, and bewail both him and myself." [295] When Víravara heard this, he said, like one alarmed, "Is there then, goddess, any expedient to prevent the death of this king, who is the protecting amulet of the world?" When the earth heard this, she answered, "There is one expedient for averting it, and one which you alone can employ." Then Víravara said,--"Then, goddess, tell it me at once, in order that I may quickly put it in operation: otherwise what is the use of my life?" When the earth heard this, she said,--"Who is as brave as you, and as devoted to his master? So hear this method of bringing about his welfare. If you offer up your child Sattvavara to this glorious goddess Chandí, famous for her exceeding readiness to manifest herself to her votaries, to whom the king has built a temple [296] in the immediate vicinity of his palace, the king will not die, but live another hundred years. And if you do it at once, his safety will be ensured, but if not, he will assuredly have ceased to live on the third day from this time." When the goddess Earth said this to Víravara, he said, "Goddess, I will go, and do it this very instant." Then Earth said, "May success attend you!" and disappeared; and the king, who was secretly following Víravara, heard all this. Then Víravara went quickly in the darkness to his own house, and king Súdraka, out of curiosity, followed him unobserved. There he woke up his wife Dharmavatí, and told her how the goddess Earth had directed him to offer up his son for the sake of the king. When she heard it, she said, "My lord, we must ensure the prosperity of the king; so wake up this young boy of ours and tell it him yourself." Then Víravara woke up his young son Sattvavara, who was asleep, and told him what had occurred, and said to him, "So, my son, the king will live if you are offered up to the goddess Chandí, but if not, he will die on the third day." When Sattvavara heard it, though he was a mere child, he shewed a heroic soul, and justified his name. [297] He said "I shall have obtained all I desire, if the sacrifice of my life saves that of the king, for so I shall have repaid him for his food which I have eaten. So why should there be any delay? Take me and offer me up immediately before the adorable goddess. Let me be the means of bringing about the happiness of my lord." When Sattvavara said this, Víravara answered, "Bravo! you are in truth my own son." And the king, who had followed them, and heard all this conversation from outside, said to himself, "Ah! they are all equal in courage." Then Víravara took his son Sattvavara on his shoulder, and his wife Dharmavatí took their daughter Víravatí, and they both went that very night to the temple of Chandí, and king Súdraka followed them unobserved. Then Sattvavara was taken down by his father from his shoulder, and placed in front of the idol, and the boy, who was full of courage, bowed before the goddess, and said, "May the sacrifice of my head ensure the life of king Súdraka! May he rule unopposed, goddess, for another hundred years!" When the boy Sattvavara said this, Víravara exclaimed, "Bravo!" and drew his sword and cut off his son's head, and offered it to the goddess, saying, "May the sacrifice of my son save the king's life!"--Immediately a voice was heard from the air, "Bravo! Víravara! What man is as devoted to his sovereign as thou, who, by the sacrifice of thy noble only son, hast bestowed on this king Súdraka life and a kingdom?" Then that young girl Víravatí, the daughter of Víravara, came up, and embraced the head of her slain brother, and weeping, blinded with excessive grief, she broke her heart and so died. And the king saw and heard all this from his concealment. Then Víravara's wife Dharmavatí said to him, "We have ensured the prosperity of the king, so now I have something to say to you. Since my daughter, though a child and knowing nothing, has died out of grief for her brother, and I have lost these two children of mine, what is the use of life to me? Since I have been so foolish as not to offer my own head long ago to the goddess for the welfare of the king, give me leave to enter the fire with my children's bodies." When she urged this request, Víravara said to her, "Do so, and may prosperity attend you, for what pleasure could you find, noble woman, in continuing a life, that would for you be full of nothing but grief for your children. But do not be afflicted, because you did not sacrifice yourself. Would not I have sacrificed myself, if the object could have been attained by the sacrifice of any victim but our son? So wait until I have made a pyre for you with these pieces of timber, collected to build the fence round the sanctuary of the goddess." When Víravara had said this, he made a funeral pyre with the timber, and placed on it the bodies of his two children, and lighted it with the flame of a lamp. Then his virtuous wife Dharmavatí fell at his feet, and, after worshipping the goddess Chandí, she addressed to her this prayer, "May my present husband be my husband also in a future birth! And may the sacrifice of my life procure prosperity for the king his master!" When the virtuous woman had said this, she threw herself fearlessly into the burning pyre, from which the flames streamed up like hair. Then the hero Víravara said to himself, "I have done what the king's interests required, as the celestial voice testified, and I have paid my debt to my master for his food which I have eaten: so, as I am now left alone, why should I thus cling to life? It does not look well for a man like me to nurse his own life only, after sacrificing all his dear family, which it is his duty to maintain. So why should I not gratify Durgá by sacrificing myself?" Having thus reflected, he first approached the goddess with this hymn of praise: "Hail to thee, thou slayer of the Asura Mahisha, destroyer of the Dánava Ruru, trident-bearing goddess! Hail to thee, best of mothers, that causest rejoicing among the gods, and upholdest the three worlds! Hail thou whose feet are worshipped by the whole earth, the refuge of those that are intent on final beatitude! Hail thou that wearest the rays of the sun, and dispellest the accumulated darkness of calamity! Hail to thee, Kálí, skull-bearing goddess, wearer of skeletons! Hail, Sivá! Honour to thee! Be propitious now to king Súdraka on account of the sacrifice of my head!" After Víravara had praised the goddess in these words, he cut off his head with a sudden stroke of his sword. King Súdraka, who was a witness of all this from his place of concealment, was full of bewilderment, sorrow, and astonishment, and said to himself, "This worthy man and his family have performed for my sake a wonderful and difficult exploit never seen or heard of anywhere else. Though the world is wide and various, where could there be found a man so resolute as secretly to sacrifice his life for his master, without proclaiming the fact abroad? And if I do not requite this benefit, what is the use of my sovereignty, and of my protracting my life, which would only be like that of an animal?" When the heroic king had thus reflected, he drew his sword from the sheath, and approaching the goddess, prayed thus to her, "Be propitious to me now, goddess, on account of this sacrifice of my head, and confer a boon on me, thy constant votary. Let this Bráhman Víravara, whose acts are in accordance with his name, and who sacrificed his life for my sake, be resuscitated with his family!" After uttering this prayer, king Súdraka was preparing to cut off his head with his sword, but at that moment a voice was heard from the air, "Do not act rashly; I am pleased with this courage of thine; let the Bráhman Víravara be restored to life, together with his wife and his children!"--Having uttered so much, the voice ceased, and Víravara rose up alive and unwounded, with his son, his daughter, and his wife. When the king, who quickly concealed himself again, saw that marvel, he was never tired of looking at them with an eye full of tears of joy. And Víravara quickly awoke as if from sleep, and, beholding his children and wife alive, and also himself, he was confused in mind. And he asked his wife and children, addressing them severally by name, "How have you returned to life after having been reduced to ashes? I too cut off my head: what is the meaning of my being now alive? Is this a delusion, or the manifest favour of the goddess?" When he said this, his wife and children answered him, "Our being alive is due to a merciful interposition of the goddess, of which we were not conscious." Then Víravara came to the conclusion that it was so, and after worshipping the goddess, he returned home with his wife and children, having accomplished his object. And after he had left his son, wife, and daughter there, he returned that very night to the palace-gate of the king, and stood there as before. King Súdraka, for his part, who had beheld all unobserved, again went up to the roof of his palace. And he cried out from the roof, "Who is in attendance at the palace-gate?" Then Víravara said, "I myself am in waiting here, your Majesty. And in accordance with your orders I went in search of that woman, but she disappeared somewhere as soon as seen, like a Rákshasí." When the king heard the speech of that Víravara, he was very much astonished, as he had himself seen what took place, and he said to himself, "Indeed people of noble spirit are deep and self-contained of soul as the sea, for when they have performed an unparalleled exploit, they do not utter any description of it." Thus reflecting, the king silently descended from the roof of the palace, and entered his private apartments, and there spent the rest of the night. And the next morning, Víravara came to present himself at the time of audience, and then the delighted king related to the ministers all that Víravara had gone through during the night, so that they were all, as it were, thunderstruck with wonder. Then the king gave to Víravara and his son the sovereignty over the provinces of Láta and Karnáta, as a token of his regard. Then the two kings, Víravara and Súdraka, being equal in power, lived happily in the interchange of mutual good offices. When the Vetála had told this exceedingly wonderful story, he went on to say to king Trivikramasena, "So tell me, king, who was the bravest of all these, and if you know and do not tell, the curse, which I before mentioned, shall descend upon you." When the king heard this, he answered the Vetála, "King Súdraka was the greatest hero of them all." Then the Vetála said, "Was not Víravara greater, for his equal is not found on this earth? And was not his wife braver, who, though a mother, endured to witness with her own eyes the offering up of her son as a victim? And was not his son Sattvavara braver, who, though a mere child, displayed such preëminent courage? So why do you say that king Súdraka was more heroic than these?" When the Vetála said this, the king answered him, "Do not say so! Víravara was a man of high birth, one in whose family it was a tradition that life, son, and wife must be sacrificed to protect the sovereign. And his wife also was of good birth, chaste, worshipping her husband only, and her chief duty was to follow the path traced out for her by her husband. And Sattvavara was like them, being their son; assuredly, such as are the threads, such is the web produced from them. But Súdraka excelled them all, because he was ready to lay down his life for those servants, by the sacrifice of whose lives kings are wont to save their own." When the Vetála heard that speech from that king, he at once left his shoulder, and returned invisibly to his former place by his supernatural power, but the king resolutely set out on his former path in that cemetery at night to bring him back again. NOTE. For the story of Víravara, see Vol. I, pp. 253 and 519. Oesterley refers us to Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 414, where it is shown to be based upon the Asadrisa Játaka of Buddha. The story is found in the Persian Tútínámah, No 21, (in Iken, p. 89,) in a form resembling that in the Hitopadesa. But there is another form which is No. 2 in the same work of Kaderi and found in the older Tútínámah, (p. 17 in Iken,) which seems to be based on the Vetála Panchavinsati. This is also found in the Turkish Tútínámah. Jánbáz saves the life of a king by the mere determination to sacrifice himself and his whole family. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 185-187.) Benfey refers us to No. 39 in Basile's Pentamerone, [Liebrecht's German translation, Vol. II, pp. 116-134,] and to No. 6 in Grimm's Kinder-Märchen. CHAPTER LXXIX. (Vetála 5.) Then king Trivikramasena went back again to that asoka-tree, and saw the Vetála in the corpse again hanging on it as before, and took him down, and after showing much displeasure with him, set out again rapidly towards his goal. And as he was returning along his way, in silence as before, through the great cemetery by night, the Vetála on his shoulder said to him, "King, you have embarked on a toilsome undertaking, and I liked you from the moment I first saw you, so listen, I will tell you a tale to divert your mind." Story of Somaprabhá and her three suitors. In Ujjayiní there lived an excellent Bráhman, the dear dependent and minister of king Punyasena, and his name was Harisvámin. That householder had by his wife, who was his equal in birth, an excellent son like himself, Devasvámin by name. And he also had born to him a daughter, famed for her matchless beauty, rightly named Somaprabhá. [298] When the time came for that girl to be given away in marriage, as she was proud of her exceeding beauty, she made her mother give the following message to her father and brother, "I am to be given in marriage to a man possessed of heroism, or knowledge, or magic power; [299] you must not give me in marriage to any other, if you value my life." When her father Harisvámin heard this, he was full of anxiety, trying to find for her a husband coming under one of these three categories. And while so engaged, he was sent as ambassador by king Punyasena to negotiate a treaty with a king of the Dekkan, who had come to invade him. And when he had accomplished the object, for which he was sent, a noble Bráhman, who had heard of the great beauty of his daughter, came and asked him for her hand. Harisvámin said to the Bráhman suitor, "My daughter will not have any husband who does not possess either valour, knowledge, or magic power; so tell me which of the three you possess." When Harisvámin said this to the Bráhman suitor, he answered, "I possess magic power." Thereupon Harisvámin rejoined, "Then shew me your magic power." So that possessor of supernatural power immediately prepared by his skill a chariot that would fly through the air. And in a moment he took Harisvámin up in that magic chariot, and shewed him heaven and all the worlds. And he brought him back delighted to that very camp of the king of the Dekkan, to which he had been sent on business. Then Harisvámin promised his daughter to that man possessed of magic power, and fixed the marriage for the seventh day from that time. And in the meanwhile another Bráhman, in Ujjayiní, came and asked Harisvámin's son Devasvámin for the hand of his sister. Devasvámin answered, "She does not wish to have a husband who is not possessed of either knowledge, or magic power, or heroism." Thereupon he declared himself to be a hero. And when the hero displayed his skill in the use of missiles and hand-to-hand weapons, Devasvámin promised to give him his sister, who was younger than himself. And by the advice of the astrologers he told him, as his father had told the other suitor, that the marriage should take place on that very same seventh day, and this decision he came to without the knowledge of his mother. At that very same time a third person came to his mother, the wife of Harisvámin, and asked her privately for the hand of her daughter. She said to him, "Our daughter requires a husband who possesses either knowledge, or heroism, or magic power;" and he answered, "Mother, I possess knowledge." And she, after questioning him about the past and the future, promised to give the hand of her daughter to that possessor of supernatural knowledge on that same seventh day. The next day Harisvámin returned home, and told his wife and his son the agreement he had made to give away his daughter in marriage; and they told him separately the promises that they had made; and that made him feel anxious, as three bridegrooms had been invited. Then, on the wedding-day, three bridegrooms arrived in Harisvámin's house, the man of knowledge, the man of magic power, and the man of valour. And at that moment a strange thing took place: the intended bride, the maiden Somaprabhá, was found to have disappeared in some inexplicable manner, and though searched for, was not found. Then Harisvámin said eagerly to the possessor of knowledge; "Man of knowledge, now tell me quickly where my daughter is gone." When the possessor of knowledge heard that, he said, "The Rákshasa Dhúmrasikha has carried her off to his own habitation in the Vindhya forest." When the man of knowledge said this to Harisvámin, he was terrified and said, "Alas! Alas! How are we to get her back, and how is she to be married?" When the possessor of magic power heard that, he said, "Be of good cheer! I will take you in a moment to the place where the possessor of knowledge says that she is." After he had said this, he prepared, as before, a chariot that would fly through the air, provided with all kinds of weapons, and made Harisvámin, and the man of knowledge, and the brave man get into it, and in a moment he carried them to the habitation of the Rákshasa in the Vindhya forest, which had been described by the man of knowledge. The Rákshasa, when he saw what had happened, rushed out in a passion, and then the hero, who was put forward by Harisvámin, challenged him to fight. Then a wonderful fight took place between that man and that Rákshasa, who were contending for a woman with various kinds of weapons, like Ráma and Rávana. And in a short time the hero cut off the head of that Rákshasa with a crescent-headed arrow, though he was a doughty champion. When the Rákshasa was slain, they carried off Somaprabhá whom they found in his house, and they all returned in the chariot of the suitor who possessed magic power. When they had reached Harisvámin's house, the marriage did not go forward, though the auspicious moment had arrived, but a great dispute arose between the man of knowledge, the man of magic power, and the man of valour. The man of knowledge said, "If I had not known where this maiden was, how would she have been discovered when concealed?--So she ought to be given to me." But the man of magic power said, "If I had not made this chariot that can fly through the air, how could you all have gone and returned in a moment like gods? And how could you, without a chariot, have fought with a Rákshasa, who possessed a chariot? So you ought to give her to me for I have secured by my skill this auspicious moment." The brave man said, "If I had not slain the Rákshasa in fight, who would have brought this maiden back here in spite of all your exertions? So she must be given to me." While they went on wrangling in this style, Harisvámin remained for a moment silent, being perplexed in mind. "So tell me, king, to whom she ought to have been given, and if you know and do not say, your head shall split asunder." When Trivikramasena heard this from the Vetála, he abandoned his silence, and said to him; "She ought to be given to the brave man; for he won her by the might of his arms, at the risk of his life, slaying that Rákshasa in combat. But the man of knowledge and the man of magic power were appointed by the Creator to serve as his instruments; are not calculators and artificers always subordinate assistants to others?" When the Vetála heard this answer of the king's, he left his seat on the top of his shoulder, and went, as before, to his own place; and the king again set out to find him, without being in the slightest degree discomposed. NOTE. The above story bears a slight resemblance to No. 71 in Grimm's Kinder- und Hausmärchen, Sechse kommen durch die ganze Welt; see the note in the 3rd volume of the third edition, page 120. Cp. also the 74th story in Laura Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Part II, page 96, and the 45th story in the same book, Part I, p. 305, with Köhler's notes. The 9th story in Sagas from the Far East, p. 105, is no doubt the Mongolian form of the tale in our text. It bears a very strong resemblance to the 47th tale in the Pentamerone of Basile, (see Liebrecht's translation, Vol. II, p. 212,) and to Das weise Urtheil in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen. In this tale there are three rival brothers; one has a magic mirror, another a magic chariot, a third three magic apples. The first finds out that the lady is desperately ill, the second takes himself and his rivals to her, the third raises her to life. An old man decides that the third should have her, as his apples were consumed as medicine, while the other two have still their chariot and mirror respectively. Oesterley refers us to Benfey's articles in Ausland, 1858, pp. 969, 995, 1017, 1038, 1067, in which this story is treated in a masterly and exhaustive manner. He compares a story in the Siddhikür, No. 1, p. 55, in Jülg's version, which seems to be the one above referred to in Sagas from the Far East. The 22nd story in the Persian Tútínámah (Iken, p. 93,) which is found with little variation in the Turkish Tútínámah (Rosen, II, p. 165,) closely resembles the story in our text. The only difference is that a magic horse does duty for a magic chariot, and the lady is carried away by fairies. There is a story in the Tútínámah which seems to be made up of No. 2, No. 5 and No. 21 in this collection. [No. 22, in Somadeva.] It is No. 4 in the Persian Tútínámah, (Iken, p. 37,) and is also found in the Turkish version, (Rosen I, p. 151.) The lady is the work of four companions. A carpenter hews a figure out of wood, a goldsmith adorns it with gems, a tailor clothes it, and a monk animates it with life. They quarrel about her, and lay the matter before a Dervish. He avows that he is her husband. The head of the police does the same, and the Kazi, to whom it is then referred, takes the same line. At last the matter is referred to a divinity, and the lady is again reduced to wood. This form is the exaggeration of a story in Ardschi Bordschi translated by Benfey in Ausland, 1858, p. 845, (cp. Göttinger gel. Anz. 1858, p. 1517, Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 490 and ff.) A shepherd boy hews a female figure out of wood, a second paints her, a third improves her [by giving her wit and understanding, according to Sagas from the Far East,] a fourth gives her life. Naran Dákiní awards her to the last. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 192-194). The story in Ardschi Bordschi will be found in Sagas from the Far East, pp. 298-303. The story which Oesterley quotes from the Tútínámah is still found in Bannu, as appears from a review of Mr. Thorburn's book in Melusine (1878), p. 179. The reviewer, M. Loys Brueyre, tells us that it is found in the Bohemian tales of Erben under the title, Wisdom and Fortune. CHAPTER LXXX. (Vetála 6.) Then king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree, and carried off from it that Vetála on his shoulder, as before, and began to return with him swiftly in silence. And on the way the Vetála again said to him, "King, you are wise and brave, therefore I love you, so I will tell you an amusing tale, and mark well my question." Story of the lady who caused her brother and husband to change heads. There was a king famous on the earth by the name of Yasahketu, and his capital was a city of the name of Sobhávatí. And in that city there was a splendid temple of Gaurí, [300] and to the south of it there was a lake, called Gaurítírtha. And every year, during a feast on the fourteenth day of the white fortnight of the month Áshádha, large crowds came there to bathe from every part of the world. [301] And once there came there to bathe, on that day, a young washerman of the name of Dhavala, from a village called Brahmasthala. He saw there the virgin daughter of a man named Suddhapata, a girl called Madanasundarí, who had come to bathe in the sacred water. [302] His heart was captivated by that girl who eclipsed the beauty of the moon, and after he had enquired her name and family, he went home love-smitten. There he remained fasting and restless without her, but when his mother asked him the cause, he told her the truth about his desire. [303] She went and told her husband Vimala, and when he came, and saw his son in that state, he said to him, "Why are you so despondent, my son, about an object so easily attained? Suddhapata will give you his daughter, if I ask him. For we are equal to him in family, wealth, and occupation; I know him and he knows me; so this is not a difficult matter for me to arrange." With these words Vimala comforted his son, and induced him to take food, and other refreshments, and the next day he went with him to the house of Suddhapata. And there he asked his daughter in marriage for his son Dhavala, and Suddhapata courteously promised to give her. And so, after ascertaining the auspicious moment, he gave his daughter Madanasundarí, who was of equal birth with Dhavala, in marriage to him the next day. And after Dhavala had been married, he returned a happy man to his father's house, together with his wife, who had fallen in love with him at first sight. And one day, while he was living there in happiness, his father-in-law's son, the brother of Madanasundarí, came there. All received him courteously, [304] and his sister embraced him and welcomed him, and his connections asked him how he was, and at last, after he had rested, he said to them, "I have been sent here by my father, to invite Madanasundarí and his son-in-law, since we are engaged in a festival in honour of the goddess Durgá." And all his connections and their family approved his speech, and entertained him that day with appropriate meats and drinks. Early the next day Dhavala set out for his father-in-law's house, with Madanasundarí and his brother-in-law. And he reached with his two companions the city of Sobhávatí, and he saw the great temple of Durgá, when he arrived near it; and then he said to his wife and brother-in-law, in a fit of pious devotion, "Come and let us visit the shrine of this awful goddess." When the brother-in-law heard this, he said to him, in order to dissuade him, "How can so many of us approach the goddess empty-handed?" Then Dhavala said, "Let me go alone, and you can wait outside." When he had said this, he went off to pay his respects to the goddess. When he had entered her temple, and had worshipped, and had meditated upon that goddess, who with her eighteen mighty arms had smitten terrible Dánavas, and who had flung under the lotus of her foot and trampled to pieces the Asura Mahisha, a train of pious reflection was produced in his mind by the impulse of Destiny, and he said to himself, "People worship this goddess with various sacrifices of living creatures, so why should not I, to obtain salvation, appease her with the sacrifice of myself?" After he had said this to himself, he took from her inner shrine, which was empty of worshippers, a sword which had been long ago offered to her by some pilgrims, and, after fastening his own head by his hair to the chain of the bell, he cut it off with the sword, and when cut off, it fell on the ground. And his brother-in-law, after waiting a long time, without his having returned, went into that very temple of the goddess to look for him. But when he saw his sister's husband lying there decapitated, he also was bewildered, and he cut off his head in the same way with that very same sword. And when he too did not return, Madanasundarí was distracted in mind, and then she too entered the temple of the goddess. And when she had gone in, and seen her husband and her brother in such a state, she fell on the ground, exclaiming, "Alas! what is the meaning of this? I am ruined." And soon she rose up, and lamented those two that had been so unexpectedly slain, and said to herself, "Of what use is this life of mine to me now?" and being eager to abandon the body, she said to that goddess, "O thou that art the chief divinity presiding over blessedness, chastity, and holy rule, though occupying half the body of thy husband Siva, [305] thou that art the fitting refuge of all women, that takest away grief, why hast thou robbed me at once of my brother and my husband? This is not fitting on thy part towards me, for I have ever been a faithful votary of thine. So hear one piteous appeal from me who fly to thee for protection. I am now about to abandon this body which is afflicted with calamity, but grant that in all my future births, whatever they may be, these two men may be my husband and brother." In these words she praised and supplicated the goddess, and bowed before her again, and then she made a noose of a creeper and fastened it to an asoka-tree. And while she was stretching out her neck, and putting it into the noose, the following words resounded from the expanse of air: "Do not act rashly, my daughter! I am pleased with the exceeding courage which thou hast displayed, though a mere girl; let this noose be, but join the heads of thy husband and thy brother to their bodies, and by virtue of my favour they shall both rise up alive." [306] When the girl Madanasundarí heard this, she let the noose drop, and went up to the corpses in great delight, but being confused, and not seeing in her excessive eagerness what she was doing, she stuck, as fate would have it, her husband's head on to her brother's trunk, and her brother's head on to her husband's trunk, and then they both rose up alive, with limbs free from wound, but from their heads having been exchanged their bodies had become mixed together. [307] Then they told one another what had befallen them, and were happy, and after they had worshipped the goddess Durgá, the three continued their journey. But Madanasundarí, as she was going along, saw that she had changed their heads, and she was bewildered and puzzled as to what course to take. "So tell me, king, which of the two people, thus mixed together, was her husband; and if you know and do not tell, the curse previously denounced shall fall on you!" When king Trivikramasena heard this tale and this question from the Vetála, he answered him as follows: "That one of the two, on whom her husband's head was fixed, was her husband, for the head is the chief of the limbs, and personal identity depends upon it." When the king had said this, the Vetála again left his shoulder unperceived, and the king again set out to fetch him. NOTE. Oesterley remarks that the Hindi version of this story has been translated into French by Garcin de Tassy in the Journal des Savants, 1836, p. 415, and by Lancereau in the Journal Asiatique, Ser. 4, Tom. 19, pp. 390-395. In the Tútínámah, (Persian, No. 24, in Iken, No. 102; Turkish, Rosen, II, p. 169) the washerman is replaced by an Indian prince, his friend by a priest, and the rest is the same as in our text. That Goethe took that part of his Legende, which is based on this tale, from Iken's translation, has been shewn by Benfey in Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 719. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 195, 196.) CHAPTER LXXXI. Then king Trivikramasena went back to the asoka-tree, and again found the Vetála there, and took him on his shoulder. As he was going along with him, the Vetála said to him on the way, "King, listen to me, I will tell you a story to make you forget your fatigue." Story of the king who married his dependent to the Nereid. There is a city on the shore of the eastern sea, named Támraliptí; in that city there was a king of the name of Chandasinha; he turned away his face from the wives of others, but not from battle-fields; he carried off the fortune of his foes, but not the wealth of his neighbours. Once on a time a popular Rájpút of the Dekkan, named Sattvasíla, came to the palace-gate of that king. And he announced himself, and then, on account of his poverty, he and some other Rájpúts tore a ragged garment in the presence of that king. Thus he became a dependent, [308] and remained there for many years perpetually serving the king, but he never received any reward from him. And he said to himself, "If I have been born in a royal race, why am I so poor? And considering my poverty is so great, why did the Creator make my ambition so vast? For though I serve the king so diligently, and my followers are sorely afflicted, and I have long been pining with hunger, he has never, up to the present time, deigned to notice me." While such were the reflections of the dependent, the king one day went out to hunt. And he went, surrounded with horses and footmen, to the forest of wild beasts, while his dependent ran in front of him bearing a stick. And after he had hunted for some time, he followed up closely a boar that had escaped, and soon he reached another distant wood. And in that vast jungle, where the path was obscured with leaves and grass, the king lost the boar, and he became exhausted, and was unable to find his way. And the dependent was the only one that kept up with him, running on foot, regardless of his own life, tortured with hunger and thirst, though the king was mounted upon a horse swift as the wind. And the king, when he saw that the dependent had followed him, in spite of his being in such a condition, said to him in a kind voice, "Do you know the way by which we came?" When the dependent heard that, he put his hands together in an attitude of supplication, and said, "I do know it, but let my lord rest here for some time. For the sun, which is the centre-jewel of the girdle of the sky-bride, is now burning fiercely with all its rays flickering forth." When the king heard this, he said to him graciously, "Then see if you can find water anywhere here." The dependent said, "I will," and he climbed up a high tree, and saw a river, and then he came down again, and led the king to it. And he took the saddle off his horse, and let him roll, and gave him water and mouthfuls of grass, and so refreshed him. And when the king had bathed, he brought out of a corner of his garment delicious [309] ámalaka fruits, and washed them, and gave them to him. And when the king asked where he got them, he said to him kneeling with the ámalakas in his hand, "Ten years have now passed since I, living continually on these fruits, have been performing, in order to propitiate my sovereign, the vow of a hermit that does not dwell in solitude." When the king heard that, he answered him, "It cannot be denied that you are rightly named Sattvasíla." And being filled with compassion and shame, he said to himself; "Fie on kings who do not see who among their servants is comfortable or miserable, and fie on their courtiers who do not inform them of such matters!" Such were the king's thoughts, but he was at last induced by the importunity of the dependent to take two ámalakas from him. And after eating them and drinking water, he rested for a while in the company of the dependent, having satiated his hunger and thirst on fruits and water. Then his dependent got his horse ready, and he mounted it, and the dependent went in front of him to shew him the way, but however much the king entreated him, he would not get up on the horse behind him, and so the king returned to his own city, meeting his army on the way. There he proclaimed the devotion of the dependent, and he loaded him with wealth and territories, and did not consider even then that he had recompensed him as he deserved. Then Sattvasíla became a prosperous man, and discarding the life of a dependent, he remained henceforth about the person of king Chandasinha. And one day the king sent him to the island of Ceylon, to demand for him the hand of the king's daughter. He had to go there by sea; so he worshipped his patron divinity, and went on board a ship with the Bráhmans, whom the king appointed to accompany him. And when the ship had gone half-way, there suddenly rose from the sea a banner that excited the wonder of all in the ship. It was so lofty that its top touched the clouds, it was made of gold, and emblazoned like a waving flag of various hues. And at that very moment a bank of clouds suddenly arose, and began to pour down rain, and a mighty wind blew. And the ship was forced on to that flag by the rain and the wind, and thus fastened to it, as elephant-drivers force on an elephant and bind him to a post. And then the flag began to sink with the ship in the billowy sea. And then the Bráhmans in the ship, distracted with fear, called on their king Chandasinha, crying out for help. And when Sattvasíla heard their cries, so great was his devotion to his master that he could not restrain himself, but with his sword in his hand, and his upper garment girded round him, the brave fellow daringly plunged into the billows, following the flag, in order to counteract the violence of the sea, not suspecting the real cause. And as soon as he had plunged in, that ship was carried to a distance by the wind and waves, and all the people, who were in it, fell into the mouths of the sea-monsters. And when Sattvasíla, who had fallen into the sea, began to look about him, he found that he was in a splendid city, [310] but he could not see the sea anywhere. That city glittered with palaces of gold supported on pillars of jewels, and was adorned with gardens in which were tanks with steps of precious gems, and in it he beheld the temple of Durgá, lofty as mount Meru, with many walls of costly stone, and with a soaring banner studded with jewels. There he prostrated himself before the goddess, and praised her with a hymn, and sat down wondering whether it was all the effect of enchantment. And in the meanwhile a heavenly maiden suddenly opened a door, and issued from a bright enclosure in front of the temple of the goddess. Her eyes were like blue lotuses, her face full-blown, her smile like a flower, her body was soft like the taper fibre of a water-lily's root, so that she resembled a moving lotus-lake. And waited on by a thousand ladies, she entered the inner shrine of the goddess and the heart of Sattvasíla at the same time. And after she had worshipped, she left the inner shrine of the goddess, but nothing would make her leave the heart of Sattvasíla. And she entered once more into the shining enclosure, and Sattvasíla entered after her. And when he had entered, he beheld another splendid city, which seemed like a garden where all the enjoyments of the world had agreed to meet. In it Sattvasíla saw that maiden sitting on a couch studded with gems, and he went up to her, and sat down by her side. And he remained with his eyes fixed on her face, like a man in a painting, expressing his passion by his trembling limbs, the hairs on which stood erect. And when she saw that he was enamoured of her, she looked at the faces of her attendants, and then they, understanding the expression of her face, said to him, "You have arrived here as a guest, so enjoy the hospitality provided by our mistress, rise up, bathe, and then take food." When he heard that, he entertained some hope, and he rose up, though not without a struggle, and he went to a tank in the garden which they shewed him. And the moment that he plunged into it, he rose up, to his astonishment, in the middle of a tank in the garden of king Chandasinha in Támraliptí. [311] And seeing himself suddenly arrived there, he said to himself, "Alas! what is the meaning of this? Now I am in this garden, and a moment ago I was in that splendid city; I have exchanged in an instant the nectarous vision of that fair one for the grievous poison of separation from her. But it was not a dream, for I saw it all clearly in a waking state. It is clear that I was beguiled like a fool by those maidens of Pátála." Thus reflecting, he wandered about in that garden like a madman, being deprived of that maiden, and wept in the anguish of disappointed passion. And the gardeners, when they beheld him in that state, with body covered with the yellow pollen of flowers wafted by the wind, as if with the fires of separation, went and told king Chandasinha, and he, being bewildered, came himself and saw him; and after calming him, he said to him, "Tell me, my friend; what is the meaning of all this? You set out for one place and reached another, your arrows have not struck the mark at which they were aimed." When Sattvasíla heard that, he told the king all his adventures, and he, when he heard them, said to himself, "Strange to say, though this man is a hero, he has, happily for me, [312] been beguiled by love, and I now have it in my power to discharge my debt of gratitude to him." So the brave king said to him, "Abandon now your needless grief, for I will conduct you by the same course into the presence of that beloved Asura maiden." With these words the king comforted him, and refreshed him with a bath and other restoratives. The next day the king entrusted the kingdom to his ministers, and embarking on a ship, set out on the sea with Sattvasíla, who shewed him the way. And when they had got to that half-way spot, Sattvasíla saw the wonderful flagstaff rising out of the sea with the banner on it, as before, and he said to the king, "Here is that great flagstaff with such wonderful properties, towering aloft out of the sea: I must plunge in here, and then the king must plunge in also and dive down after the flagstaff." After Sattvasíla had said this, they got near the flagstaff, and it began to sink. And Sattvasíla first threw himself in after it, and then the king also dived in the same direction, and soon after they had plunged in, they reached that splendid city. And there the king beheld with astonishment and worshipped that goddess Párvatí, and sat down with Sattvasíla. And in the meanwhile there issued from that glittering enclosure a maiden, accompanied by her attendant ladies, looking like the quality of brightness in concrete form. Sattvasíla said, "This is that fair one," and the king, beholding her, considered that his attachment to her was amply justified. She, for her part, when she beheld that king with all the auspicious bodily marks, said to herself, "Who can this exceedingly distinguished man be?" And so she went into the temple of Durgá to pray, and the king contemptuously went off to the garden, taking Sattvasíla with him. And in a short time the Daitya maiden came out from the inner shrine of the goddess, having finished her devotions, and having prayed that she might obtain a good husband; and after she had come out, she said to one of her attendants, "My friend, go and see where that distinguished man is whom I saw; and entreat him to do us the favour of coming and accepting our hospitality, for he is some great hero deserving special honour." When the attendant had received this order, she went and looked for him, and bending low, delivered to him in the garden the message of her mistress. Then the heroic king answered in a carelessly negligent tone, "This garden is sufficient entertainment for me: what other entertainment do I require?" When that attendant came and reported this answer to the Daitya maiden, she considered that the king was a man of a noble spirit and deserving of the highest regard. And then the Asura maiden, (being, as it were, drawn towards himself with the cord of his self-command by the king, who shewed a lofty indifference for hospitality far above mortal desert,) went in person to the garden, thinking that he had been sent her by way of a husband, as a fruit of her adoration of Durgá. And the trees seemed to honour her, as she approached, with the songs of various birds, with their creepers bending in the wind like arms, and showers of blossoms. And she approached the king and bowing courteously before him, entreated him to accept of her hospitality. Then the king pointed to Sattvasíla, and said to her, "I came here to worship the image of the goddess of which this man told me. I have reached her marvellous temple, guided to it by the banner, and have seen the goddess, and after that, you; what other hospitality do I require?" When the maiden heard that, she said, "Then come, out of curiosity, to see my second city, which is the wonder of the three worlds." When she said this, the king laughed and said, "Oh! he told me of this also, the place where there is the tank to bathe in." Then the maiden said, "King, do not speak thus, I am not of a deceitful disposition, and who would think of cheating one so worthy of respect? I have been made the slave of you both by your surpassing excellence; so you ought not thus to reject my offer." When the king heard this, he consented, and taking Sattvasíla with him, he accompanied the maiden to that glittering enclosure. And the door of it was opened, and she conducted him in, and then he beheld that other splendid city of hers. The trees in it were ever producing flowers and fruits, for all seasons were present there at the same time; [313] and the city was all composed of gold and jewels like the peak of mount Meru. And the Daitya maiden made the king sit down on a priceless jewelled throne, and offered him the arghya in due form, and said to him, "I am the daughter of Kálanemi the high-souled king of the Asuras, but my father was sent to heaven by Vishnu, the discus-armed god. And these two cities, which I inherit from my father, are the work of Visvakarman; they furnish all that heart can wish, and old age and death never invade them. But now I look upon you as a father, and I, with my cities, am at your disposal." When she had in these words placed herself and all that she possessed at the king's disposal, he said to her, "If this be so, then I give you, excellent daughter, to another, to the hero Sattvasíla, who is my friend and relation." When the king, who seemed to be the favour of the goddess Durgá in bodily form, said this, the maiden, who understood excellence when she saw it, acquiesced submissively. When Sattvasíla had attained the wish of his heart by marrying that Asura maiden, and had had the sovereignty of those cities bestowed on him, the king said to him, "Now I have repaid you for one of those ámalakas which I ate, but I am still indebted to you for the second, for which I have never recompensed you." When the king had said this to Sattvasíla, who bowed before him, he said to that Daitya maiden, "Now shew me the way to my own city." Then the Daitya maiden gave him a sword named "Invincible," and a fruit to eat, which was a remedy against old age and death, and with these he plunged into the tank which she pointed out, and the next thing that happened to him was, that he rose up in his own land with all his wishes gratified. And Sattvasíla ruled as king over the cities of the Daitya princess. "Now tell me: which of those two shewed most courage in plunging into the water?" When the Vetála put this question to the king, the latter, fearing to be cursed, thus answered him; "I consider Sattvasíla the braver man of the two, for he plunged into the sea without knowing the real state of the case, and without any hope, but the king knew what the circumstances were when he plunged in, and had something to look forward to, and he did not fall in love with the Asura princess, because he thought no longing would win her." When the Vetála received this answer from the king, who thereby broke silence, he left his shoulder, as before, and fled to his place on the asoka-tree. And the king, as before, followed him quickly to bring him back again; for the wise never flag in an enterprise which they have begun, until it is finished. CHAPTER LXXXII. (Vetála 8.) Then king Trivikramasena returned to the asoka-tree, and again caught the Vetála, and put him on his shoulder, and set out with him. And as he was going along, the Vetála again said to him from his shoulder, "King, in order that you may forget your toil, listen to this question of mine." Story of the three fastidious men. There is a great tract of land assigned to Bráhmans in the country of Anga, called Vrikshaghata. In it there lived a rich sacrificing Bráhman named Vishnusvámin. And he had a wife equal to himself in birth. And by her he had three sons born to him, who were distinguished for preternatural acuteness. In course of time they grew up to be young men. One day, when he had begun a sacrifice, he sent those three brothers to the sea to fetch a turtle. So off they went, and when they had found a turtle, the eldest said to his two brothers,--"Let one of you take the turtle for our father's sacrifice, I cannot take it, as it is all slippery with slime." When the eldest brother said this, the two younger ones answered him, "If you hesitate about taking it, why should not we?" When the eldest heard that, he said, "You two must take the turtle; if you do not, you will have obstructed our father's sacrifice; and then you and he will certainly sink down to hell." When he told the younger brothers this, they laughed, and said to him, "If you see our duty so clearly, why do you not see that your own is the same?" Then the eldest said, "What, do you not know how fastidious I am? I am very fastidious about eating, and I cannot be expected to touch what is repulsive." The middle brother, when he heard this speech of his, said to his brother,--"Then I am a more fastidious person than you, for I am a most fastidious connoisseur of the fair sex." When the middle one said this, the eldest went on to say, "Then let the younger of you two take the turtle!" Then the youngest brother frowned, and in his turn said to the two elder, "You fools, I am very fastidious about beds, so I am the most fastidious of the lot." So the three brothers fell to quarrelling with one another, and being completely under the dominion of conceit, they left that turtle and went off immediately to the court of the king of that country, whose name was Prasenajit, and who lived in a city named Vitankapura, in order to have the dispute decided. There they had themselves announced by the warder, and went in, and gave the king a circumstantial account of their case. The king said, "Wait here, and I will put you all in turn to the proof:" so they agreed and remained there. And at the time that the king took his meal, he had them conducted to a seat of honour, and given delicious food fit for a king, possessing all the six flavours. And while all were feasting around him, the Bráhman, who was fastidious about eating, alone of all the company did not eat, but sat there with his face puckered up with disgust. The king himself asked the Bráhman why he did not eat his food, though it was sweet and fragrant, and he slowly answered him, "I perceive in this cooked rice an evil smell of the reek from corpses, so I cannot bring myself to eat it, however delicious it may be." When he said this before the assembled multitude, they all smelled it by the king's orders, and said, "This food is prepared from white rice and is good and fragrant." But the Bráhman, who was so fastidious about eating, would not touch it, but stopped his nose. Then the king reflected, and proceeded to enquire into the matter, and found out from his officers [314], that the food had been made from rice which had been grown in a field near the burning-ghát of a certain village. Then the king was much astonished, and being pleased, he said to him, "In truth you are very particular as to what you eat; so eat of some other dish." And after they had finished their dinner, the king dismissed the Bráhmans to their apartments, and sent for the loveliest lady of his court. And in the evening he sent that fair one, all whose limbs were of faultless beauty, splendidly adorned, to the second Bráhman, who was so squeamish about the fair sex. And that matchless kindler of Cupid's flame, with a face like the full moon of midnight, went, escorted by the king's servants, to the chamber of the Bráhman. But when she entered, lighting up the chamber with her brightness, that gentleman, who was so fastidious about the fair sex, felt quite faint, and stopping his nose with his left hand, said to the king's servants, "Take her away; if you do not, I am a dead man, a smell comes from her like that of a goat." When the king's servants heard this, they took the bewildered fair one to their sovereign, and told him what had taken place. And the king immediately had the squeamish gentleman sent for, and said to him, "How can this lovely woman, who has perfumed herself with sandal-wood, camphor, black aloes, and other splendid scents, so that she diffuses exquisite fragrance through the whole world, smell like a goat?" But though the king used this argument with the squeamish gentleman, he stuck to his point; and then the king began to have his doubts on the subject, and at last by artfully framed questions he elicited from the lady herself, that, having been separated in her childhood from her mother and nurse, she had been brought up on goat's milk. Then the king was much astonished, and praised highly the discernment of the man who was fastidious about the fair sex, and immediately had given to the third Bráhman who was fastidious about beds, in accordance with his taste, a bed composed of seven mattresses placed upon a bedstead. White smooth sheets and coverlets were laid upon the bed, and the fastidious man slept on it in a splendid room. But, before half a watch of the night had passed, he rose up from that bed, with his hand pressed to his side, screaming in an agony of pain. And the king's officers, who were there, saw a red crooked mark on his side, as if a hair had been pressed deep into it. And they went and told the king, and the king said to them, "Look and see if there is not something under the mattresses." So they went and examined the bottom of the mattresses one by one, and they found a hair in the middle of the bedstead underneath them all. And they took it and shewed it to the king, and they also brought the man who was fastidious about beds, and when the king saw the state of his body, he was astonished. And he spent the whole night in wondering how a hair could have made so deep an impression on his skin through seven mattresses. And the next morning the king gave three hundred thousand gold pieces to those three fastidious men, because they were persons of wonderful discernment and refinement. And they remained in great comfort in the king's court, forgetting all about the turtle, and little did they reck of the fact that they had incurred sin by obstructing their father's sacrifice. When the Vetála, seated on the shoulder of the king, had told him this wonderful tale, he again asked him a question in the following words, "King, remember the curse I previously denounced, and tell me which was the most fastidious of these three, who were respectively fastidious about eating, the fair sex, and beds?" When the wise king heard this, he gave the Vetála the following answer, "I consider the man who was fastidious about beds, in whose case imposition was out of the question, the most fastidious of the three, for the mark produced by the hair was seen conspicuously manifest on his body, whereas the other two may have previously acquired their information from some one else." When the king said this, the Vetála left his shoulder, as before, and the king again went in quest of him, as before, without being at all depressed. NOTE. The above story resembles No. 2, in the Cento Novelle Antiche, and one in the Addition to the Arabian tales published by Mr. Scott. (Dunlop's History of Fiction, Vol. I, p. 415; Liebrecht's translation, p. 212 and note 282.) See also Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 203. In the Cento Novelle Antiche a prisoner informs the king of Greece, that a horse has been suckled by a she-ass, that a jewel contains a worm, and that the king himself is the son of a baker. The incident of the mattress reminds one of the test applied by the queen to her son's wife in "The Palace that stood on Golden Pillars," (Thorpe's Yuletide Stories, p. 64). In order to find out whether her daughter-in-law is of high birth, she puts first a bean, then peas, under her pillow. The prince's wife, who is really the daughter of a peasant, is apprised of the stratagem by her cat, which resembles Whittington's. Rohde in his Griechische Novellistik, p. 62, compares a story told by Aelian about the Sybarite Smindyrides, who slept on a bed of rose-leaves and got up in the morning covered with blisters. He also quotes from the Chronicle of Tabari a story of a princess who was made to bleed by a rose-leaf lying in her bed. Oesterley refers us to Babington's Vetála Cadai, p. 33, and the Chevalier de Mailly's version of the three Princes of Serendip. The three are sitting at table, and eating a leg of lamb, sent with some splendid wine from the table of the Emperor Behram. The eldest maintains that the wine was made of grapes that grew in a cemetery, the second that the lamb was brought up on dog's milk, the third says that the emperor had put to death the vazir's son, and the latter was bent on vengeance. All three statements turn out to be well-grounded. There are parallel stories in the 1001 Nights (Breslau). In Night 458 it is similarly conjectured that the bread was baked by a sick woman, that the kid was suckled by a bitch, and that the Sultan is illegitimate. In Night 459 a gem-cutter guesses that a jewel has an internal flaw, a man skilled in the pedigrees of horses divines that a horse is the offspring of a female buffalo, and a man skilled in human pedigrees that the mother of the favourite queen was a rope-dancer. Cp. also the decisions of Hamlet in Saxo Grammaticus, 1839, p. 138, in Simrock's Quellen des Shakespeare, 1, 81-85; 5, 170; he lays down that some bread tastes of blood, (the corn was grown on a battle-field), that some liquor tastes of iron, (the malt was mixed with water taken from a well, in which some rusty swords had lain), that some bacon tastes of corpses, (the pig had eaten a corpse), lastly that the king is a servant and his wife a serving-maid. Oesterley refers also to the beginning of Donatus' life of Virgil, and to Heraclius Von Otte, also to the parallels quoted above from Liebrecht. The brother, who was so fastidious about beds, may be compared with a princess in Andersen's Tale of "The Princess on a pea," Gesammelte Märchen, Part III, 8, 62, (Leipzig, 1847). This is identical with a tale found in Cavallius' Schwedische Volkssagen und Märchen, German version, Vienna, 1848, p. 222, which resembles No. 182 in the older editions of Grimm's Kindermärchen. (Andersen's story is clearly the same as Thorpe's referred to above.) Nearly akin is Diocletian's test in the Seven Wise Masters. His masters put an ash-leaf under the bed; and he remarks, "Either the floor has risen, or the roof sunk." (Oesterley, p. 215.) In the version in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XII, p. 122, it is an ivy-leaf. See also Ellis's Metrical Romances, p. 412. CHAPTER LXXXIII. (Vetála 9.) So king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree, and taking the Vetála down from it, placed him on his shoulder, and set out. Then the Vetála said to him; "King, this wandering about in a cemetery at night is inconsistent with your kingly rank. Do you not see that this place of the dead [315] is full of ghosts, and terrible at night, and full of darkness as of the smoke of funeral pyres. Alas! what tenacity you display in this undertaking you have engaged in, to please that mendicant! So listen to this question from me which will render your journey more agreeable." Story of Anangarati and her four suitors. There is in Avanti a city built by gods at the beginning of the world, which is limitless as the body of Siva, and renowned for enjoyment and prosperity, even as his body is adorned with the snake's hood and ashes. [316] It was called Padmávatí in the Krita Yuga, Bhogavatí in the Tretá Yuga, Hiranyavatí in the Dvápara Yuga, and Ujjayiní in the Kali Yuga. And in it there lived an excellent king, named Víradeva, and he had a queen named Padmarati. The king went with her to the bank of the Mandákiní, and propitiated Siva with austerities, in order to obtain a son. And after he had remained a long time engaged in austerities, he performed the ceremonies of bathing and praying, and then he heard this voice from heaven, uttered by Siva, who was pleased with him, "King, there shall be born to thee a brave son to be the head of thy family, and a daughter, who with her matchless beauty shall put to shame the nymphs of heaven." When king Víradeva had heard this voice from heaven, he returned to his city with his consort, having gained all he desired. There he first had a son born to him named Súradeva, and after a time queen Padmarati gave birth to a daughter. And her father gave her the name of Anangarati, on the ground that she was beautiful enough to inspire love in the breast of Cupid. And, when she grew up, in his desire to procure for her a suitable husband, he had brought the portraits of all the kings of the earth, painted on canvas. And as no one of them seemed a match for her, he said to his daughter, in his tenderness for her; "I cannot find a suitable match for you, my daughter, so summon all the kings of the earth, and select your own husband." When the princess heard that, she said to her father, "My father, I am too modest to select my own husband, but I must be given in marriage to a good-looking young man, who is a perfect master of one art; I do not want any other better man." When the king heard this speech of his daughter Anangarati, he proceeded to search for a young man, such as she had described, and while he was thus engaged, there came to him from the Dekkan four magnificent men, brave and skilful, who had heard from the people what was going on. Those four suitors for the hand of the princess were received with respect by the king, and one after another they told to him in her presence their respective acquirements. The first said; "I am a Súdra, Panchaphuttika by name; I make every day five splendid pairs of garments: The first of them I give to my god, and the second to a Bráhman, the third I retain for my own wearing, [317] the fourth I should give to my wife, if this maid here were to become my wife, the fifth I sell, and procure myself meat and drink: as I possess this art, let Anangarati be given to me." When he had said this, the second man said, "I am a Vaisya, Bháshájna by name, I know the speech of all beasts and birds; [318] so let the princess be given to me." When the second had said this, the third said, "I am a Kshatriya king, by name Khadgadhara, renowned for might of arm: my equal in the art of swordsmanship does not exist upon the earth, so bestow this maiden on me, O king." When the third had said this, the fourth said, "I am a Bráhman, named Jívadatta, and I possess the following art; I can restore to life dead creatures, and exhibit them alive; [319] so let this maiden obtain for a husband me, who am renowned for daring exploits." When they had thus spoken, the king Víradeva, with his daughter by his side, seeing that they were like gods in shape and dress, remained lost in doubt. When the Vetála had told this story, he said to king Trivikramasena, menacing him with the before-mentioned curse, "So tell me, king, to which of these four ought the maiden Anangarati to be given?" When the king heard this, he gave the Vetála the following answer; "You are thus repeatedly making me break silence simply in order to waste time; otherwise, master of magic, how could you possibly ask such an absurd question? How can a woman of Kshatriya caste be given to a Súdra weaver? Moreover, how can a Kshatriya woman be given to a Vaisya? And as to the power of understanding the language of beasts and birds, which he possesses, what is the practical use of it? And as for the third, the Bráhman, who fancies himself such a hero, of what worth is he, as he is a sorcerer, and degraded by abandoning the duties of his caste? Accordingly the maiden should be given to the fourth suitor, the Kshatriya Khadgadhara, who is of the same caste and distinguished for his skill and valour." When the Vetála heard this, he left the king's shoulder, as before, and quickly returned by the power of his magic to his own place, and the king again pursued him, as before, to recover him, for despondency never penetrates into a hero's heart, that is cased in armour of fortitude. NOTE. This story is found on page 498 and ff of Vol. I. It bears a close resemblance to Tale 5, and many of the parallels there quoted are applicable to it. In the 47th tale of the Pentamerone of Basile, the sons boast of their accomplishments in a very similar manner. CHAPTER LXXXIV. (Vetála 10.) Then Trivikramasena went and took the Vetála from the asoka-tree, and put him on his shoulder once more, and set out; and as he was going along, the Vetála said from the top of his shoulder, "You are weary, king, so listen to this tale that is capable of dispelling weariness." Story of Madanasená and her rash promise. There was an excellent king of the name of Vírabáhu, who imposed his orders on the heads of all kings: he had a splendid city named Anangapura, and in it there lived a rich merchant, named Arthadatta; that merchant prince had for elder child a son named Dhanadatta, and his younger child was a pearl of maidens, named Madanasená. One day, as she was playing with her companions in her own garden, a young merchant, named Dharmadatta, a friend of her brother's, saw her. When he saw that maiden, who with the full streams of her beauty, her breasts like pitchers half-revealed, and three wrinkles like waves, resembled a lake for the elephant of youth to plunge in in sport, he was at once robbed of his senses by the arrows of love, that fell upon him in showers. He thought to himself, "Alas, this maiden, illuminated with this excessive beauty, has been framed by Mára, as a keen arrow to cleave asunder my heart." While, engaged in such reflections, he watched her long, the day passed away for him, as if he were a chakraváka. Then Madanasená entered her house, and grief at no longer beholding her entered the breast of Dharmadatta. And the sun sank red into the western main, as if inflamed with the fire of grief at seeing her no more. And the moon, that was surpassed by the lotus of her countenance, knowing that that fair-faced one had gone in for the night, slowly mounted upward. In the meanwhile Dharmadatta went home, and thinking upon that fair one, he remained tossing to and fro on his bed, smitten by the rays of the moon. And though his friends and relations eagerly questioned him, he gave them no answer, being bewildered by the demon of love. And in the course of the night he at length fell asleep, though with difficulty, and still he seemed to behold and court that loved one in a dream; to such lengths did his longing carry him. And in the morning he woke up, and went and saw her once more in that very garden, alone and in privacy, waiting for her attendant. So he went up to her, longing to embrace her, and falling at her feet, he tried to coax her with words tender from affection. But she said to him with great earnestness, "I am a maiden, betrothed to another, I cannot now be yours, for my father has bestowed me on the merchant Samudradatta, and I am to be married in a few days. So depart quietly, let not any one see you; it might cause mischief." But Dharmadatta said to her, "Happen what may, I cannot live without you." When the merchant's daughter heard this, she was afraid that he would use force to her, so she said to him, "Let my marriage first be celebrated here, let my father reap the long-desired fruit of bestowing a daughter in marriage; then I will certainly visit you, for your love has gained my heart." When he heard this, he said, "I love not a woman that has been embraced by another man; does the bee delight in a lotus on which another bee has settled?" When he said this to her, she replied, "Then I will visit you as soon as I am married, and afterwards I will go to my husband." But though she made this promise, he would not let her go without further assurance, so the merchant's daughter confirmed the truth of her promise with an oath. Then he let her go, and she entered her house in low spirits. And when the lucky day had arrived, and the auspicious ceremony of marriage had taken place, she went to her husband's house and spent that day in merriment, and then retired with him. But she repelled her husband's caresses with indifference, and when he began to coax her, she burst into tears. He thought to himself, "Of a truth she cares not for me," and said to her, "Fair one, if you do not love me, I do not want you; go to your darling, whoever he may be." When she heard this, she said slowly, with downcast face, "I love you more than my life, but hear what I have to say. Rise up cheerfully, and promise me immunity from punishment; take an oath to that effect, my husband, in order that I may tell you." When she said this, her husband reluctantly consented, and then she went on to say with shame, despondency, and fear; "A young man of the name of Dharmadatta, a friend of my brother's, saw me once alone in our garden, and smitten with love he detained me; and when he was preparing to use force, I being anxious to secure for my father the merit of giving a daughter in marriage, and to avoid all scandal, made this agreement with him; 'When I am married, I will pay you a visit, before I go to my husband;' so I must now keep my word, permit me, my husband; I will pay him a visit first, and then return to you, for I cannot transgress the law of truth which I have observed from my childhood." When Samudradatta had been thus suddenly smitten by this speech of hers, as by a down-lighting thunderbolt, being bound by the necessity of keeping his word, he reflected for a moment as follows; "Alas! she is in love with another man, she must certainly go; why should I make her break her word? Let her depart! Why should I be so eager to have her for a wife?" After he had gone through this train of thought, he gave her leave to go where she would; and she rose up, and left her husband's house. In the meanwhile the cold-rayed moon ascended the great eastern mountain, as it were the roof of a palace, and the nymph of the eastern quarter smiled, touched by his finger. Then, though the darkness was still embracing his beloved herbs in the mountain caves and the bees were settling on another cluster of kumudas, a certain thief saw Madanasená, as she was going along alone at night, and rushing upon her, seized her by the hem of her garment. He said to her, "Who are you, and where are you going?" When he said this, she, being afraid, said, "What does that matter to you? Let me go; I have business here." Then the thief said, "How can I, who am a thief, let you go?" Hearing that, she replied, "Take my ornaments." The thief answered her, "What do I care for those gems, fair one? I will not surrender you, the ornament of the world, with your face like the moonstone, your hair black like jet, your waist like a diamond, [320] your limbs like gold, fascinating beholders with your ruby-coloured feet." When the thief said this, the helpless merchant's daughter told him her story, and entreated him as follows, "Excuse me for a moment, that I may keep my word, and as soon as I have done that, I will quickly return to you, if you remain here. Believe me, my good man, I will never break this true promise of mine." When the thief heard that, he let her go, believing that she was a woman who would keep her word, and he remained in that very spot, waiting for her return. She, for her part, went to that merchant Dharmadatta. And when he saw that she had come to that wood, he asked her how it happened, and then, though he had longed for her, he said to her, after reflecting a moment, "I am delighted at your faithfulness to your promise; what have I to do with you, the wife of another? So go back, as you came, before any one sees you." When he thus let her go, she said, "So be it," and leaving that place, she went to the thief, who was waiting for her in the road. He said to her, "Tell me what befell you when you arrived at the trysting-place." So she told him how the merchant let her go. Then the thief said, "Since this is so, then I also will let you go, being pleased with your truthfulness: return home with your ornaments!" So he too let her go, and went with her to guard her, and she returned to the house of her husband, delighted at having preserved her honour. There the chaste woman entered secretly, and went delighted to her husband; and he, when he saw her, questioned her; so she told him the whole story. And Samudratta, perceiving that his good wife had kept her word without losing her honour, assumed a bright and cheerful expression, and welcomed her as a pure-minded woman, who had not disgraced her family, and lived happily with her ever afterwards. When the Vetála had told this story in the cemetery to king Trivikramasena, he went on to say to him; "So tell me, king, which was the really generous man of those three, the two merchants and the thief? And if you know and do not tell, your head shall split into a hundred pieces." When the Vetála said this, the king broke silence, and said to him, "Of those three the thief was the only really generous man, and not either of the two merchants. For of course her husband let her go, though she was so lovely and he had married her; how could a gentleman desire to keep a wife that was attached to another? And the other resigned her because his passion was dulled by time, and he was afraid that her husband, knowing the facts, would tell the king the next day. But the thief, a reckless evildoer, working in the dark, was really generous, to let go a lovely woman, ornaments and all." When the Vetála heard that, he left the shoulder of the king, and returned to his own place, as before, and the king, with his great perseverance no whit dashed, again set out, as before, to bring him. NOTE. This story is the same as the 19th of Campbell's West Highland Tales, The Inheritance, Vol. II, pp. 16-18. Dr. Köhler, (Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 317), compares the Story in the 1,001 Nights of Sultan Akschid and his three sons. He tells us that it is also found in the Turkish Tales, called The Forty Vazírs, in the Turkish Tútínámah, and in Johann Andreæ's Chymische Hochzeit Christiani Rosencreutz. The form of it best known to the general reader is probably the 5th story in the Xth day of Boccacio's Decameron. The tale is no doubt originally Buddhistic, and the king's cynical remarks a later addition. Dunlop considers that Boccacio's story gave rise to Chaucer's Frankeleyne's Tale, the 12th Canto of the Orlando Inamorato, and Beaumont and Fletcher's Triumph of Honour. CHAPTER LXXXV. (Vetála 11.) Then king Trivikramasena again went and took that Vetála from the asoka-tree and put him on his shoulder, and set out with him; and as he was going along, the Vetála on his shoulder said to him; "Listen, king; I will tell you an interesting story." Story of king Dharmadhvaja and his three very sensitive wives. There lived of old in Ujjayiní a king of the name of Dharmadhvaja, he had three wives, who were all daughters of kings, and whom he held very dear. The first of them was called Indulekhá, the second Tárávalí, and the third Mrigánkavatí; and they were all possessed of extraordinary personal charms. And the successful king, who had conquered all his enemies, lived happily, amusing himself with all those three queens. Once on a time, when the festival of the spring-season had arrived, he went with all those three wives to the garden to amuse himself. There he beheld the creepers weighed down with flowers, looking like Cupid's bows, with rows of bees for strings, strung for him by the Spring. And the king, who resembled the mighty Indra, hearing the notes which the cuckoos uttered on the sprays of the garden-trees, like the edict of Love, the god of enjoyment, betook himself with his wives to wine, which is the very life of that intoxication, by which Cupid lives. And he joyed in drinking the liquor first tasted by them, perfumed with their sighs, red as their bimba lips. Then, as Indulekhá was playfully pulling the hair of the king, a blue lotus leaped from her ear, and fell on her lap. Immediately a wound was produced on the front of her thigh by the blow, and the delicate princess exclaimed "Oh! Oh!" and fainted. When the king and the attendants saw that, they were distracted with grief, but they gradually brought her round with cold water and fanning. Then the king took her to the palace, and had a bandage applied to the wound, and treated her with preparations made by the physicians. And at night, seeing that she was going on well, the king retired with the second, Tárávalí, to an apartment on the roof of the palace exposed to the rays of the moon. There the rays of the moon, entering through the lattice, fell on the body of the queen, who was sleeping by the king's side, where it was exposed by her garment blowing aside. Immediately she woke up, exclaiming, "Alas! I am burnt," and rose up from the bed rubbing her limbs. The king woke up in a state of alarm, crying out, "What is the meaning of this?" Then he got up and saw that blisters had been produced on the queen's body. And the queen Tárávalí said to him when he questioned her, "The moon's rays falling on my exposed body have done this to me." When she said this and burst into tears, the king, being distressed, summoned her attendants, who ran there in trepidation and alarm. And he had made for her a bed of lotus-leaves, sprinkled with water, and sandal-wood lotion applied to her body. In the meanwhile his third wife Mrigánkavatí heard of it, and left her palace to come to him. And when she had got into the open air, she heard distinctly, as the night was still, the sound of a pestle pounding rice in a distant house. The moment the gazelle-eyed one heard it, she said, "Alas I am killed," and she sat down on the path, shaking her hands in an agony of pain. Then the girl turned back, and was conducted by her attendants to her own chamber, where she fell on the bed, and groaned. And when her weeping attendants examined her, they saw that her hands were covered with bruises, and looked like lotuses upon which black bees had settled. So they went and told the king. The king Dharmadhvaja arrived in a state of consternation, and asked his beloved what it all meant. Then the tortured queen showed him her hands, and said to him, "As soon as I heard the sound of the pestle, these became covered with bruises." Then the king, filled with surprise and despondency, had sandal-wood unguent and other remedies applied to her hands, in order to allay the pain. He reflected, "One of my queens has been wounded by the fall of a lotus, the second has had her body burned even by the rays of the moon, and alas! the third has got such terrible bruises produced on her hands by the mere sound of a pestle. By a dispensation of fate the excessive delicacy, which is the distinguishing excellence of my queens, has now become in them all, at one and the same time, a defect." Engaged in such reflections the king wandered round the women's apartments, and the night of three watches passed for him as tediously as if it had consisted of a hundred watches. But the next morning, the physician and surgeons took measures, which caused him soon to be comforted by the recovery of his wives. When the Vetála had told this very wonderful story, he put this question to king Trivikramasena from his seat on his shoulder: "Tell me, king, which was the most delicate of those queens; and the curse I before mentioned will take effect, if you know and do not say." When the king heard that, he answered, "The most delicate of all was the lady upon whose hand bruises were produced by merely hearing the sound of the pestle, without touching it. But the other two were no match for her, because the wound of the one and the blisters of the other were produced by contact with the lotus and the rays of the moon respectively." When the king had said this, the Vetála again left his shoulder, and returned to his own place, and the persevering king again set out to fetch him. NOTE. Rohde in his Griechische Novellistik, p. 62, compares with this a story told by Timæus of a Sybarite, who saw a husbandman hoeing a field, and contracted a rupture from it. Another Sybarite, to whom he told his piteous tale, got ear-ache from hearing it. Oesterley in his German translation of the Baitál Pachísí, p. 199, refers us to Lancereau, No. 5, pp. 396-399, and Babington's Vetála Cadai, No. 11, p. 58. He points out that Grimm, in his Kindermärchen, 3, p. 238, quotes a similar incident from the travels of the three sons of Giaffar. Out of four princesses, one faints because a rose-twig is thrown into her face among some roses, a second shuts her eyes in order not to see the statue of a man, a third says "Go away, the hairs in your fur-cloak run into me," and the fourth covers her face, fearing that some of the fish in a tank may belong to the male sex. He also quotes a striking parallel from the Élite des contes du Sieur d'Ouville. Four ladies dispute as to which of them is the most delicate. One has been lame for three months owing to a rose-leaf having fallen on her foot, another has had three ribs broken by a sheet in her bed having been crumpled, a third has held her head on one side for six weeks owing to one half of her head having three or four more hairs on it than the other, a fourth has broken a blood-vessel by a slight movement, and the rupture cannot be healed without breaking the whole limb. CHAPTER LXXXVI. (Vetála 12) Then king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree, and recovered the Vetála, and placed him on his shoulder, and set out with him again silently, as before. Then the Vetála again said to him from his seat on his shoulder; "King, I love you much because you are so indomitable, so listen, I will tell you this delightful story to amuse you." Story of king Yasahketu, his Vidyádharí wife, and his faithful minister. In the land of Anga there was a young king named Yasahketu, like a second and unburnt god of love come to earth to conceal his body. [321] He conquered by his great valour all his enemies; and as Indra has Vrihaspati for a minister, he had Dírghadarsin. Now, in course of time, this king, infatuated with his youth and beauty, entrusted to that minister his realm, from which all enemies had been eradicated, and became devoted to pleasure only. He remained continually in the harem instead of the judgment-hall; he listened to delightful songs in the womens' apartments, instead of hearkening to the voice of his well-wishers; in his thoughtlessness, he was devoted to latticed windows and not to the affairs of his kingdom, though the latter also were full of holes. But the great minister Dírghadarsin continued unweariedly upholding the burden of his kingdom's cares, day and night. And a general rumour spread to the following effect, "Dírghadarsin has plunged in dissipation the sovereign, who is satisfied with the mere name of king, and so he manages now to enjoy himself all his master's power." Then the minister Dírghadarsin said of himself to his wife Medhávatí, "My dear, as the king is addicted to pleasure, and I do his work, a calumny has been circulated among the people against me, to the effect that I have devoured the realm. And a general rumour, though false, injures even great men in this world; was not Ráma compelled by a slanderous report to abandon his wife Sítá? So what course must I adopt in this emergency?" When the minister said this, his firm-souled wife Medhávatí, [322] who was rightly named, said to him; "Take leave of the king on the pretext of a pilgrimage to holy bathing-places; it is expedient, great-minded Sir, that you should go to a foreign land for a certain time. So you will be seen to be free from ambition, and the calumny against you will die out; and while you are absent, the king will bear the burden of the kingdom himself, and then this vicious tendency of his will gradually diminish, and when you return, you will be able to discharge your office of minister without blame." When Dírghadarsin's wife said this to him, he said, "I will do so," and he went and said to the king Yasahketu in the course of conversation, "Give me leave to depart, king, I am going on a pilgrimage for some days, for my heart is set on that religious duty." When the king heard that, he said, "Do not do so! Cannot you, without going on pilgrimages, perform in your house noble religious duties, such as charity and so on, which will procure you heaven?" When the minister heard this, he said, "King, that purity which comes of wealth is sought by charity and so on, but holy bathing-places have an everlasting purity. And a wise man must visit them, while he is young; for otherwise how can he be sure of reaching them, as this body cannot be relied on?" While he was saying this, and the king was still trying to dissuade him, a warder entered, and said to the king, "King, the sun is plunging into the middle of the lake of heaven, so rise up, this is the hour appointed for you to bathe in, and it is rapidly passing away." When the king heard this, he immediately rose up to bathe, and the minister, whose heart was set on pilgrimage, bowed before him, and went home to his own house. There he left his wife, whom he forbade to follow him, and managed cunningly to set out in secret, without even his servants suspecting his departure. And alone he wandered from country to country with resolute perseverance, and visited holy bathing-places, and at last he reached the land of Paundra. In a certain city in that country not far from the sea, he entered a temple of Siva, and sat down in a courtyard attached to it. There a merchant, named Nidhidatta, who had come to worship the god, saw him exhausted with the heat of the sun's rays, dusty with his long journey. The merchant, being a hospitable man, seeing that the traveller, who was in such a state, wore a Bráhmanical thread, and had auspicious marks, concluded that he was a distinguished Bráhman, and took him home to his own house. There he honoured him with a bath, food, and other refreshments in the most luxurious style, and when his fatigue was removed, he said to him, "Who are you, whence do you come, and where are you going?" And the Bráhman gave him this reserved answer; "I am a Bráhman of the name of Dírghadarsin; I have come here on pilgrimage from the land of Anga." Then the merchant prince Nidhidatta said to him, "I am about to go on a trading expedition to the Island of Gold; so you must live in my house, until I return; and then you will have recovered from the fatigue which you have incurred by roaming to holy places, and you can go home." When Dírghadarsin heard that, he said, "Why should I remain here? I will go with you, great merchant, if you like." The good man said, "So be it," and then the minister, who had long discarded the use of beds, spent that night in his house. The next day he went with that merchant to the sea, and embarked on a ship laden with his merchandise. He travelled along in that ship, and beheld the awful and wonderful ocean, and in course of time reached the Isle of Gold. What had a man holding the office of prime minister to do with sea-voyages? But what will not men of honour do to prevent their fame from being sullied? So he remained some time in that island with that merchant Nidhidatta, who was engaged in buying and selling. And as he was returning with him on the ship, he suddenly saw a wave rise up, and then a wishing-tree arise out of the sea; it was adorned with boughs glittering with gold, which were embellished with sprays of coral, and bore lovely fruits and flowers of jewels. And he beheld on its trunk a maiden, alluring on account of her wonderful beauty, reclining on a gem-bestudded couch. He reflected for a moment, "Dear me! What can this be?" And thereupon the maiden, who had a lyre in her hand, began to sing this song, "Whatever seed of works any man has sown in a former life, of that he, without doubt, eats the fruit; for even fate cannot alter what has been done in a previous state of existence." When the heavenly maiden had sung this song, she immediately plunged into that sea, with the wishing-tree, and the couch on which she was reclining. Then Dírghadarsin reflected, "I have to-day seen a wonderful sight; one would never have expected to find in the sea a tree, with a heavenly maiden singing on it, appearing and disappearing as soon as beheld. Or rather, this admirable treasure-house of the sea is ever the same; did not Lakshmí, and the moon, and the Párijáta tree, and other precious things come out of it?" But the steersman and the rest of the crew, perceiving that Dírghadarsin was astonished and puzzled, said to him, "This lovely woman always appears here in the same way, and sinks down again at once; but this sight is new to you." This is what they said to the minister, but he still continued in a state of wonder, and so he reached in course of time on the ship, with that Nidhidatta, the coast for which they were making. There the merchant disembarked his wares, gladdening the hearts of his servants, and the minister went in high spirits with him to his house, which was full of mirth at his arrival. And after he had remained there a short time, he said to Nidhidatta, "Merchant prince, I have long reposed comfortably in your house, now I wish to return to my own land; I wish you all happiness." With these words he took leave of the merchant prince, who was sorely unwilling to let him go, and with his virtue for his only companion he set out thence, and having in course of time accomplished the long journey, he reached his own native land of Anga. There the spies, who had been placed by king Yasahketu to watch for his return, saw him coming, before he entered the city, and informed the king; and then the king, who had been much afflicted by his absence, went out from the city to meet him; and came up to him and welcomed him with an embrace. Then the king conducted into the palace his minister, who was emaciated and begrimed with his long journey, and said to him, "Why did you leave me, bringing your mind to this cruel heartless step, and your body into this squalid state from its being deprived of unguents? [323] But who knows the way of the mighty god Fate, in that you suddenly fixed your mind on pilgrimage to holy waters and other sacred places? So tell me, what lands have you wandered through, and what novel sights have you seen?" Then Dírghadarsin described his journey to the Island of Gold, in all its stages, and so was led to tell the king of that maiden, the jewel of the three worlds, whom he had seen rise out of the sea, and sit on the wishing-tree singing. All this he narrated exactly as it took place. The moment the king heard all this, he fell so deeply in love with her, that he considered his kingdom and life valueless without her. And taking his minister aside, he said to him, "I must certainly see that maiden, otherwise I cannot live. I will go by the way which you have described, after worshipping Fate. And you must not dissuade, and you must by no means follow me, for I will travel alone incognito, and in the meanwhile you must take care of my kingdom. Do not disobey my order, otherwise my death will lie at your door." Thus spake the king, and refused to hear his minister's answer, and then dismissed him to his own house to see his relations, who had long been wishing for his return. There, in the midst of great rejoicing Dírghadarsin remained despondent; how can good ministers be happy, when their lord's vices are incurable? And the next night the king Yasahketu set out, disguised as an ascetic, having entrusted his kingdom to the care of that minister. And on the way, as he was going along, he saw a hermit, named Kusanábha, and he bowed before him. The hermit said to the king who was disguised as an ascetic, "Go on your way boldly; by going to sea in a ship with the merchant Lakshmídatta you shall obtain that maiden whom you desire." This speech delighted the king exceedingly, and bowing again before the hermit, he continued his journey; and after crossing many countries, rivers, and mountains, he reached the sea, which seemed to be full of eagerness to entertain him. Its eddies looked like eyes expanded to gaze at him, eyes of which waves were the curved brows, and which were white with shrill-sounding conchs for pupils. On the shore he met the merchant Lakshmídatta spoken of by the hermit, who was on the point of setting out for the Isle of Gold. The merchant prostrated himself before him, when he saw the signs of his royal birth, such as the discus-marked foot-print and so on; and the king embarked on the ship with him, and set out with him on the sea. And when the ship had reached the middle of the ocean, that maiden arose from the water, seated on the trunk of the wishing-tree, and while the king was gazing at her, as a partridge at the moonlight, she sang a song which the accompaniment of her lyre made more charming; "Whatever seed of works any man has sown in a former life, of that he, without doubt, eats the fruit, for even Fate cannot alter what has been done in a previous state of existence. So a man is helplessly borne along to experience precisely that lot which Fate has appointed for him, in that place and in that manner which Fate has decreed; of this there can be no doubt." When the king heard her singing this song, and thus setting forth the thing that must be, he was smitten with the arrow of love, and remained for some time motionless, gazing at her. Then he began, with bowed head, to praise the sea in the following words, "Hail, to thee, store-house of jewels, of unfathomable heart, since by concealing this lovely nymph thou hast cheated Vishnu out of Lakshmí. So I throw myself on thy protection, thou who canst not be sounded even by gods, the refuge of mountains [324] that retain their wings; grant me to obtain my desire." While he was uttering this, the maiden disappeared in the sea, with the tree, and when the king saw that, he flung himself into the sea after her, as if to cool the flames of love's fire. When the merchant Lakshmídatta saw that unexpected sight, the good man thought the king had perished, and was so afflicted that he was on the point of committing suicide, but he was consoled by the following utterance, that came from the heavens, "Do not act rashly; he is not in danger, though he has plunged into the sea; this king, Yasahketu by name, has come, disguised as an ascetic, to obtain this very maiden, for she was his wife in a former state of existence, and as soon as he has won her, he shall return to his realm of Anga." Then the merchant continued his intended voyage, to accomplish his purposes. But when king Yasahketu plunged into the sea, he suddenly beheld to his astonishment a splendid city. It gleamed with palaces that had bright pillars of precious stone, walls flashing with gold, and latticed windows of pearl. It was adorned with gardens in which were tanks with flights of steps composed of slabs of every kind of gem, and wishing-trees that granted every desire. He entered house after house in that city, which, though opulent, was uninhabited, but he could not find his beloved anywhere. Then, as he was looking about, he beheld a lofty jewelled palace, and going up to it he opened the door and went in. And when he had entered it, he beheld a solitary human form stretched out upon a gem-bestudded couch, with its whole length covered with a shawl. Wondering whether it could be that very lady, he uncovered its face with eager expectation, and saw his lady-love. Her beautiful moon-like countenance smiled, when the black robe fell from it like darkness; and she seemed like a night, illumined with moonlight, gone to visit Pátála in the day. At sight of her the king was in a state of ecstasy, like that which a man, travelling through a desert in the season of heat, experiences on beholding a river. She, for her part, opened her eyes, and when she saw that hero of auspicious form and bodily marks thus suddenly arrived, sprang from her couch in a state of excitement. She welcomed him, and with downcast countenance, seemed to honour him by flinging on his feet the full-blown lotuses of her wide-expanded eyes; and then she slowly said to him, "Who are you, and why have you come to this inaccessible lower region? And why, though your body is marked with the signs of royalty, have you undertaken the vow of an ascetic? Condescend to tell me this, distinguished Sir, if I have found favour in your sight." When the king had heard this speech of hers, he gave her this answer; "Fair one, I am the king of Anga, by name Yasahketu, and I heard from a friend on whom I can rely, that you were to be seen here every day in the sea. So I assumed this disguise, and abandoned my kingdom for your sake, and I have come here and followed you down through the sea. So tell me who you are." When he said this, she answered him with mixed feelings of shame, affection, and joy; "There is a fortunate king of the Vidyádharas named Mrigánkasena; know that I am his daughter, Mrigánkavatí by name. That father of mine, for some reason unknown to me, has left me alone in this city of his, and has gone somewhere or other with his subjects. So I, feeling melancholy in my solitary abode, rise up out of the sea on a moveable [325] wishing-tree, and sing of the decrees of Fate." When she had said this, the brave king, remembering the speech of the hermit, courted her so assiduously with speeches tender with love, that she was overpowered with affection, and promised to become his wife at once, but insisted on the following condition; "My husband, for four days in every month, the fourteenth and eighth of the white and black fortnights, I am not my own mistress; [326] and whithersoever I may go on those days, you must not question me on the subject nor forbid me, for there is a reason for it." [327] When the heavenly maiden had stated in these words the only condition on which she would consent to marry the king, he agreed to it, and married her by the Gándharva form of marriage. And one day, while the king was living happily with Mrigánkavatí, she said to him, "You must stop here, while I go somewhere for a certain business, for to-day is the fourteenth day of the black fortnight of which I spoke to you. And while you are waiting here, my husband, you must not enter this crystal pavilion, lest you should fall into a lake there and go to the world of men." When she had said this, she took leave of him, and went out of that city, and the king took his sword and followed her secretly, determined to penetrate the mystery. Then the king saw a terrible Rákshasa approaching, looking like Hades embodied in a human shape, with his cavernous mouth, black as night, opened wide. That Rákshasa uttered an appalling roar, and swooping down on Mrigánkavatí, put her in his mouth and swallowed her. When the mighty king saw that, he was at once, so to speak, on fire with excessive anger, and rushing forward with his great sword, black as a snake that has cast its slough, [328] drawn from the sheath, he cut off with it the head of the charging Rákshasa, the lips of which were firmly pressed together. Then the burning fire of the king's anger was quenched by the stream of blood that poured forth from the trunk of the Rákshasa, but not the fire of his grief at the loss of his beloved. Then the king was blinded with the darkness of bewilderment, and at a loss what to do, when suddenly Mrigánkavatí cleft asunder the body of that Rákshasa, which was dark as a cloud, and emerged alive and uninjured, illuminating all the horizon like a spotless moon. When the king saw his beloved thus delivered from danger, he rushed eagerly forward and embraced her, exclaiming, "Come! Come!" And he said to her, "My beloved, what does all this mean? Is it a dream or a delusion?" When the king asked the Vidyádharí this question, she remembered the truth, and said: "Listen, my husband! This is no delusion, nor is it a dream; but such was the curse imposed upon me by my father, a king of the Vidyádharas. For my father, who formerly lived in this city, though he had many sons, was so fond of me, that he would never take food when I was not present. But I, being devoted to the worship of Siva, used always to come to this uninhabited place on the fourteenth and eighth days of the two fortnights. "And one fourteenth day I came here and worshipped Gaurí for a long time; and, as fate would have it, so ardent was my devotion that the day came to an end before my worship was finished. That day my father ate nothing and drank nothing, though he was hungry and thirsty, as he waited for me, but he was very angry with me. And when I returned in the evening with downcast countenance, conscious of my fault, his love for me was so completely overpowered by the force of Destiny, that he cursed me in the following words; 'As owing to your arrogance I was devoured to-day by hunger, so on the eighth and fourteenth days of the two fortnights of every month, and on those days only, a Rákshasa named Kritántasantrása shall swallow you, when you go to that place outside the city to worship Siva; and on every occasion you shall make your way through his heart and come out alive. But you shall not remember the curse, nor the pain of being swallowed; and you shall remain alone here.' [329] When my father had uttered this curse, I managed gradually to propitiate him, and after thinking a little he appointed this termination to my curse; 'When a king named Yasahketu, lord of the land of Anga, shall become your husband, and shall see you swallowed by the Rákshasa, and shall slay him, then you shall issue from his heart, and shall be delivered from your curse, and you shall call to mind your curse and the other circumstances, and all your supernatural sciences.' "When he had appointed this end of my curse, he left me alone here, and went with his retinue to the mountain of Nishada in the world of men. And I remained here, thus engaged, bewildered by the curse. But that curse has now come to an end, and I remember all. So I will immediately go to my father on the Nishada mountain; the law, that governs us celestial beings, is, that when our curse is at an end we return to our own place. You are perfectly free to remain here or go to your kingdom, as you like." When she had said this, the king was sorry, and he made this request to her; "Fair one, do me the favour not to go for seven days. Let us in the meanwhile cheat the pain of parting by amusing ourselves here in the garden. After that you shall go to your father's abode, and I will return to mine." When he made this proposal, the fair one agreed to it. Then the king diverted himself with her for six days in the gardens, and in tanks, the lotus-eyes of which were full of tears, and that seemed to toss aloft their waves like hands, and in the cries of their swans and cranes to utter this plaintive appeal, "Do not leave us!" And on the seventh day he artfully decoyed his darling to that pavilion, where was the tank that served as a magic gate [330] conducting to the world of men; and throwing his arms round her neck, he plunged into that tank, and rose up with her from a tank in the garden of his own city. When the gardeners saw that he had arrived with his beloved, they were delighted, and they went and told his minister Dírghadarsin. And the minister came and fell at his feet, and seeing that he had brought with him the lady of his aspirations, he and the citizens escorted him into the palace. And he thought to himself, "Dear me! I wonder how the king has managed to obtain this celestial nymph, of whom I caught a transient glimpse in the ocean, as one sees in the heaven a lightning-flash. But the fact is, whatever lot is written for a man by the Disposer in the inscription on his forehead, infallibly befalls him, however improbable." Such were the reflections of the prime minister; while the rest of his subjects were full of joy at the return of the king, and of astonishment at his having won the celestial nymph. But Mrigánkavatí, seeing that the king had returned to his own kingdom, longed, as the seven days were completed, to return to the home of the Vidyádharas. But the science of flying up into the air did not appear to her, though she called it to mind. Then she felt as one robbed of a treasure, and was in the deepest despondency. And the king said to her, "Why do you suddenly appear despondent, tell me, my darling?" Then the Vidyádharí answered him, "Because I remained so long, after I had been released from my curse, out of love for you, my science has abandoned me, and I have lost the power of returning to my heavenly home." When king Yasahketu heard this, he said, "Ha! I have now won this Vidyádharí," and so his rejoicing was complete. When the minister Dírghadarsin saw this, he went home, and at night, when he was in bed, he suddenly died of a broken heart. And Yasahketu, after he had mourned for him, remained long bearing the burden of empire himself, with Mrigánkavatí for his consort. When the Vetála, seated on the shoulder of king Trivikramasena, had told him this story on the way, he went on to say to him, "So tell me, king; why did the heart of that great minister suddenly break, when his master had thus succeeded so completely? Did his heart break through grief at not having won the nymph himself? Or was it because he longed for the sovereign power, and thus was disappointed at the king's return? And if you know this, king, and do not tell me on the spot, your merit will at once disappear, and your head will fly in pieces." When king Trivikramasena heard that, he said to the Vetála; "Neither of these two feelings actuated that excellent and virtuous minister. But he said to himself; 'This king neglected his kingdom out of devotion to mere human females, much more will he do so now, that he is attached to a heavenly nymph. So, though I have gone through much suffering, the disease has been aggravated by it, instead of being cured, as I had hoped.' It was under the influence of such reflections that the minister's heart broke." When the king had said this, that juggling Vetála returned to his own place, and the resolute king ran swiftly after him, to bring him back again by force. CHAPTER LXXXVII. (Vetála 13.) Then the king went back to the asoka-tree, [331] and taking the Vetála from it, placed him on his shoulder, and brought him along, and as he was going along with him, the Vetála again said to the king, "Listen, king, I will tell you a short story." The story of Harisvámin, who first lost his wife, and then his life. There is a city of the name of Váránasí, the abode of Siva. In it there lived a Bráhman, named Devasvámin, honoured by the king. And that rich Bráhman had a son named Harisvámin; and he had an exceedingly lovely wife, named Lávanyavatí. I think the Disposer must have made her after he had acquired skill by making Tilottamá and the other nymphs of heaven, for she was of priceless beauty and loveliness. Now, one night Harisvámin fell asleep, as he was reposing with her in a palace cool with the rays of the moon. At that very moment a Vidyádhara prince, by name Madanavega, roaming about at will, came that way through the air. He saw that Lávanyavatí sleeping by the side of her husband, and her robe, that had slipped aside, revealed her exquisitely moulded limbs. His heart was captivated by her beauty; and blinded by love, he immediately swooped down, and taking her up in his arms asleep, flew off with her through the air. Immediately her husband, the young man Harisvámin, woke up, and not seeing his beloved, he rose up in a state of distraction. He said to himself, "What can this mean? Where has she gone? I wonder if she is angry with me. Or has she hidden herself to find out my real feelings, and is making fun of me?" Distracted by many surmises of this kind, he wandered hither and thither that night, looking for her on the roof, and in the turrets of the palace. He even searched in the palace-garden, and when he could not find her anywhere, being scorched with the fire of grief, he sobbed and lamented, "Alas! my beloved with face like the moon's orb, fair as the moonlight; did this night grudge your existence, hating your charms that rival hers [332]? That very moon, that, vanquished by your beauty, seemed to be in fear, and comforted me with its rays cool as sandalwood, now that I am bereaved of you, seems to have seen its opportunity, and smites me with them, as if with burning coals, or arrows dipped in poison." While Harisvámin was uttering these laments, the night at last slowly passed away, not so his grief at his bereavement. The next morning the sun dispelled with his rays the deep darkness that covered the world, but could not dispel the dense darkness of despondency that had settled on him. The sound of his bitter lamentations, that seemed to have been reinforced by wailing power bestowed on him by the chakravákas, whose period of separation was at an end with the night, was magnified a hundredfold. The young Bráhman, though his relations tried to comfort him, could not recover his self-command, now that he was bereaved of his beloved, but was all inflamed with the fire of separation. And he went from place to place, exclaiming with tears, "Here she stood, here she bathed, here she adorned herself, and here she amused herself." But his friends and relations said to him, "She is not dead, so why do you kill yourself? If you remain alive, you will certainly recover her somewhere or other. So adopt a resolute tone, and go in search of your beloved; there is nothing in this world that a resolute man, who exerts himself, cannot obtain." When Harisvámin had been exhorted in these terms by his friends and relations, he managed at last, after some days, to recover his spirits by the aid of hope. And he said to himself, "I will give away all that I have to the Bráhmans, and visit all the holy waters, and wash away all my sins. For if I wipe out my sin, I may perhaps, in the course of my wanderings, find that beloved of mine." After going through these reflections suitable to the occasion, he got up and bathed, and performed all his customary avocations, and the next day he bestowed on the Bráhmans at a solemn sacrifice various meats and drinks, and gave away to them all his wealth without stint. Then he left his country, with his Bráhman birth as his only fortune, and proceeded to go round to all the holy bathing-places in order to recover his beloved. And as he was roaming about, there came upon him the terrible lion of the hot season, with the blazing sun for mouth, and with a mane composed of his fiery rays. And the winds blew with excessive heat, as if warmed by the breath of sighs furnaced forth by travellers grieved at being separated from their wives. And the tanks, with their supply of water diminished by the heat, and their drying white mud, appeared to be shewing their broken hearts. And the trees by the roadside seemed to lament [333] on account of the departure of the glory of spring, making their wailing heard in the shrill moaning of their bark, [334] with leaves, as it were lips, parched with heat. At that season Harisvámin, wearied out with the heat of the sun, with bereavement, hunger and thirst, and continual travelling, disfigured, [335] emaciated and dirty, and pining for food, reached in the course of his wanderings, a certain village, and found in it the house of a Bráhman called Padmanábha, who was engaged in a sacrifice. And seeing that many Bráhmans were eating in his house, he stood leaning against the door-post, silent and motionless. And the good wife of that Bráhman named Padmanábha, seeing him in this position, felt pity for him, and reflected; "Alas! mighty is hunger! Whom will it not bring down? For here stands a man at the door, who appears to be a householder, desiring food, with downcast countenance; evidently come from a long journey, and with all his senses impaired by hunger. So is not he a man to whom food ought to be given?" Having gone through these reflections, the kind woman took up in her hands a vessel full of rice boiled in milk, with ghee and sugar, and brought it, and courteously presented it to him, and said; "Go and eat this somewhere on the bank of the lake, for this place is unfit to eat in, as it is filled with feasting Bráhmans." He said, "I will do so," and took the vessel of rice, and placed it at no great distance under a banyan-tree on the edge of the lake; and he washed his hands and feet in the lake, and rinsed his mouth, and then came back in high spirits to eat the rice. But while he was thus engaged, a kite, holding a black cobra with its beak and claws, came from some place or other, and sat on that tree. And it so happened that poisonous saliva issued from the mouth of that dead snake, which the bird had captured and was carrying along. The saliva fell into the dish of rice which was placed underneath the tree, and Harisvámin, without observing it, came and ate up that rice. [336] As soon as in his hunger he had devoured all that food, he began to suffer terrible agonies produced by the poison. He exclaimed, "When fate has turned against a man, everything in this world turns also; accordingly this rice dressed with milk, ghee and sugar, has become poison to me." Thus speaking, Harisvámin, tortured with the poison, tottered to the house of that Bráhman, who was engaged in the sacrifice, and said to his wife; "The rice, which you gave me, has poisoned me; so fetch me quickly a charmer who can counteract the operation of poison; otherwise you will be guilty of the death of a Bráhman." When Harisvámin had said this to the good woman, who was beside herself to think what it could all mean, his eyes closed, and he died. Accordingly the Bráhman, who was engaged in a sacrifice, drove out of his house his wife, though she was innocent and hospitable, being enraged with her for the supposed murder of her guest. The good woman, for her part, having incurred groundless blame from her charitable deed, and so become branded with infamy, went to a holy bathing-place to perform penance. Then there was a discussion before the superintendent of religion, as to which of the four parties, the kite, the snake, and the couple who gave the rice, were guilty of the murder of a Bráhman, but the question was not decided. [337] "Now you, king Trivikramasena, must tell me, which was guilty of the murder of a Bráhman; and if you do not, you will incur the before-mentioned curse." When the king heard this from the Vetála, he was forced by the curse to break silence, and he said, "No one of them could be guilty of the crime; certainly not the serpent, for how could he be guilty of anything, when he was the helpless prey of his enemy, who was devouring him? To come to the kite; what offence did he commit in bringing his natural food which he had happened to find, and eating it, when he was hungry? And how could either of the couple, that gave the food, be in fault, since they were both people exclusively devoted to righteousness, not likely to commit a crime? Therefore I think the guilt of slaying a Bráhman would attach to any person, who should be so foolish as, for want of sufficient reflection, to attribute it to either of them." When the king had said this, the Vetála again left his shoulder, and went to his own place, and the resolute king again followed him. CHAPTER LXXXVIII. (Vetála 14.) Then king Trivikramasena went to the asoka-tree, and again got hold of the Vetála, and took him on his shoulder; and when the king had set out, the Vetála again said to him, "King, you are tired; so listen, I will tell you an interesting tale. Story of the Merchant's daughter who fell in love with a thief. There is a city of the name of Ayodhyá, which was the capital of Vishnu, when he was incarnate as Ráma, the destroyer of the Rákshasa race. In it there lived a mighty king, of the name of Víraketu, who defended this earth, as a rampart defends a city. During the reign of that king there lived in that city a great merchant, named Ratnadatta, who was the head of the mercantile community. And there was born to him, by his wife Nandayantí, a daughter named Ratnavatí, who was obtained by propitiating the deities. And that intelligent girl grew up in her father's house, and as her body grew, her innate qualities of beauty, gracefulness, and modesty developed also. And when she attained womanhood, not only great merchants, but even kings asked her in marriage from her father. But she disliked the male sex so much that she did not desire even Indra for a husband, and would not even hear of marriage, being determined to die, sooner than consent to it. That made her father secretly sorrow much, on account of his affection for her, and the report of her conduct spread all over the city of Ayodhyá. At that time all the citizens were continually being plundered by thieves, so they assembled together, and made this complaint to king Víraketu; "Your Majesty, we are continually being robbed by thieves every night, and we cannot detect them, so let your Highness take the necessary steps." When the king had received this petition from the citizens, he stationed watchmen in plain clothes all round the city, in order to try and discover the thieves. But they could not find them out, and the city went on being robbed; so one night the king himself went out to watch; and as he was roaming about armed, he saw in a certain part of the town a single individual going along the rampart. He shewed great dexterity in his movements, as he made his footfall perfectly noiseless, and he often looked behind him with eyes anxiously rolling. The king said to himself, "Without doubt this is the thief, who sallies out by himself and plunders my city;" so he went up to him. Then the thief, seeing the king, said to him, "Who are you," and the king answered him, "I am a thief." Then the thief said, "Bravo! you are my friend, as you belong to the same profession as myself; so come to my house, I will entertain you." When the king heard that, he consented, and went with him to his dwelling, which was in an underground cavern in a forest. It was luxuriously and magnificently furnished, illuminated by blazing lamps, and looked like a second Pátála, not governed by king Bali. When the king had entered, and had taken a seat, the robber went into the inner rooms of his cave-dwelling. At that moment a female slave came and said to the king, "Great Sir, how came you to enter this mouth of death? This man is a notable thief; no doubt, when he comes out from those rooms, he will do you some injury: I assure you, he is treacherous; so leave this place at once." When the king heard this, he left the place at once, and went to his own palace and got ready his forces that very night. And when his army was ready for battle, he came and blockaded the entrance of that robber's cave with his troops, who sounded all their martial instruments. [338] Then the brave robber, as his hold was blockaded, knew that his secret had been discovered, and he rushed out to fight, determined to die. And when he came out, he displayed superhuman prowess in battle; alone, armed with sword and shield, he cut off the trunks of elephants, he slashed off the legs of horses, and lopped off the heads of soldiers. When he had made this havoc among the soldiers, the king himself attacked him. And the king, who was a skilful swordsman, by a dexterous trick of fence forced his sword from his hand, and then the dagger which he drew; and as he was now disarmed, the king threw away his own weapon, and grappling with him, flung him on the earth, and captured him alive. And he brought him back as a prisoner to his own capital, with all his wealth. And he gave orders that he should be put to death by impalement next morning. Now, when that robber was being conducted with beat of drum to the place of execution, that merchant's daughter Ratnavatí saw him from her palace. Though he was wounded, and his body was begrimed with dust, she was distracted with love as soon as she saw him, so she went and said to her father Ratnadatta, "I select as my husband this man here, who is being led off to execution, so ransom him from the king, my father; if you will not, I shall follow him to the other world." When her father heard this he said, "My daughter, what is this that you say? Before you would not accept suitors endowed with all virtues, equal to the god of love. How comes it that you are now in love with an infamous brigand chief?" Though her father used this argument, and others of the same kind with her, she remained fixed in her determination. Then the merchant went quickly to the king, and offered him all his wealth, if he would grant the robber his life. But the king would not make over to him, even for hundreds of crores of gold pieces, that thief who had robbed on such a gigantic scale, and whom he had captured at the risk of his own life. Then the father returned disappointed, and his daughter made up her mind to follow the thief to the other world, though her relations tried to dissuade her; so she bathed, and got into a palanquin, and went to the spot where his execution was taking place, followed by her father and mother and the people, all weeping. In the meanwhile the robber had been impaled by the executioners, and as his life was ebbing away on the stake, he saw her coming there with her kinsfolk. And when he heard the whole story from the people, he wept for a moment, and then he laughed a little, and then died on the stake. Then the merchant's virtuous daughter had the thief's body taken down from the stake, and she ascended the funeral pyre with it. [339] And at that very moment the holy Siva, who was invisibly present in the cemetery, spake from the air, "Faithful wife, I am pleased with thy devotedness to thy self-chosen husband, so crave a boon of me." When she heard that, she worshipped and prayed the god of gods to grant her the following boon, "Lord, may my father, who has now no sons, have a hundred, for otherwise, as he has no children but me, he would abandon his life." [340] When the good woman had said this, the god once more spake to her, saving, "Let thy father have a hundred sons! choose another boon; for such a steadfastly good woman, as thou art, deserves something more than this." When she heard this, she said, "If the Lord is pleased with me, then let this husband of mine rise up alive, and be henceforth a well conducted man!" Thereupon Siva, invisible in the air, uttered these words, "Be it so; let thy husband rise up alive, and lead henceforth a life of virtue, and let king Víraketu be pleased with him!" And immediately the robber rose up alive with unwounded limbs. Then the merchant Ratnadatta was delighted, and astonished at the same time; and with his daughter Ratnavatí and the bandit his son-in-law, and his delighted relations, he entered his own palace, and as he had obtained from the god the promise of sons, he held a feast suitable to his own joy on the occasion. And when king Víraketu heard what had taken place, he was pleased, and he immediately summoned that heroic thief, and made him commander of his army. And thereupon the heroic thief gave up his dishonest life, and married the merchant's daughter, and led a respectable life, honoured by the king. When the Vetála, seated on the shoulder of king Trivikramasena, had told him this tale, he asked him the following question, menacing him with the before-mentioned curse; "Tell me, king, why that thief, when impaled, first wept and then laughed, when he saw the merchant's daughter come with her father." Then the king said; "He wept for sorrow that he had not been able to repay the merchant for his gratuitous kindness to him; and he laughed out of astonishment, as he said to himself, 'What! has this maiden, after rejecting kings who asked for her hand, fallen in love with me? In truth a woman's heart is an intricate labyrinth.'" When the king had said this, the mighty Vetála, by means of the magic power which he possessed, again left the king's shoulder and returned to his station on the tree, and the king once more went to fetch him. CHAPTER LXXXIX. (Vetála 15.) Then king Trivikramasena again went back to the asoka-tree and took the Vetála from it, and set out with him once more; and as the king was going along, the Vetála, perched on his shoulder, said to him; "Listen, king, I will tell you another story." Story of the magic globule. There was in the kingdom of Nepála a city named Sivapura, and in it there lived of old time a king rightly named Yasahketu. He devolved upon his minister, named Prajnáságara, the burden of his kingdom, and enjoyed himself in the society of his queen Chandraprabhá. And in course of time that king had born to him, by that queen, a daughter named Sasiprabhá, bright as the moon, the eye of the world. Now in course of time she grew up to womanhood, and one day, in the month of spring, she went to a garden, with her attendants, to witness a festive procession. And in a certain part of that garden a Bráhman, of the name of Manahsvámin, the son of a rich man, who had come to see the procession, beheld her engaged in gathering flowers, raising her lithe arm, and displaying her graceful shape; and she looked charming when the grasp of her thumb and forefinger on the stalks of the flowers relaxed. When the young man Manahsvámin saw her, she at once robbed him of his heart, and he was bewildered by love and no longer master of his feelings. [341] He said to himself, "Can this be Rati come in person to gather the flowers accumulated by spring, in order to make arrows for the god of love? Or is it the presiding goddess of the wood, come to worship the spring?" While he was making these surmises, the princess caught sight of him. And as soon as she saw him, looking like a second god of love created with a body, she forgot her flowers, and her limbs, and her own personal identity. While those two were thus overpowered by the passion of mutual love at first sight, a loud shout of alarm was raised, and they both looked with uplifted heads to see what it could mean. Then there came that way an elephant, rushing along with its elephant-hook hanging down, that driven furious by perceiving the smell of another elephant, [342] had broken its fastenings, and rushed out in a state of frenzy, breaking down the trees in its path, and had thrown its driver. The princess's attendants dispersed in terror, but Manahsvámin eagerly rushed forward, and took her up alone in his arms, and while she clung timidly to him, bewildered with fear, love, and shame, carried her to a distance, out of reach of the elephant. Then her attendants came up and praised that noble Bráhman, and conducted her back to her palace. But as she went, she frequently turned round to look at her deliverer. There she remained, thinking regretfully of that man who had saved her life, consumed day and night by the smouldering fire of love. And Manahsvámin then left that garden, and seeing that the princess had entered her private apartments, he said to himself, in regretful longing, "I cannot remain without her, nay I cannot live without her: so my only resource in this difficulty is the cunning Múladeva, who is a master of magic arts." Having thus reflected, he managed to get through that day, and the next morning he went to visit that master of magic, Múladeva. And he saw that master, who was ever in the company of his friend Sasin, full of many marvellous magic ways, like the sky come down to earth in human shape. [343] And he humbly saluted him, and told him his desire; then the master laughed, and promised to accomplish it for him. Then that matchless deceiver Múladeva placed a magic globule [344] in his mouth, and transformed himself into an aged Bráhman; and he gave the Bráhman Manahsvámin a second globule to put in his mouth, and so made him assume the appearance of a beautiful maiden. And that prince of villains took him in this disguise to the judgment-hall of the king, the father of his lady-love, and said to him,"O king, I have only one son, and I asked for a maiden to be given him to wife, and brought her from a long distance; but now he has gone somewhere or other, and I am going to look for him; so keep this maiden safe for me until I bring back my son, for you keep safe under your protection the whole world." [345] When king Yasahketu heard this petition, he granted it, fearing a curse if he did not, and summoned his daughter Sasiprabhá, and said to her; "Daughter, keep this maiden in your palace, and let her sleep and take her meals with you." The princess agreed, and took Manahsvámin transformed into a maiden to her own private apartments; and then Múladeva, who had assumed the form of a Bráhman, went where he pleased, and Manahsvámin remained in the form of a maiden with his beloved. [346] And in a few days the princess became quite fond of and intimate with her new attendant; so, one night when she was pining at being separated from the object of her affections, and tossing on her couch, Manahsvámin, who was on a bed near her, concealed under a female shape, said secretly to her, "My dear Sa[s']iprabhá, why are you pale of hue, and why do you grow thinner every day, and sorrow as one separated from the side of her beloved? Tell me, for why should you distrust loving modest attendants? From this time forth I will take no food until you tell me." When the princess heard this, she sighed, and slowly told the following tale; "Why should I distrust you of all people? Listen, friend, I will tell you the cause. Once on a time I went to a spring garden to see a procession, and there I beheld a handsome young Bráhman, who seemed like the month of spring, having the loveliness of the moon free from dew, kindling love at sight, adorning the grove with play of light. And while my eager eyes, drinking in the nectarous rays of the moon of his countenance, began to emulate the partridge, there came there a mighty elephant broken loose from its bonds, roaring and distilling its ichor like rain, looking like a black rain-cloud appearing out of season. My attendants dispersed terrified at that elephant, but when I was bewildered with fear, that young Bráhman caught me up in his arms and carried me to a distance. Then contact with his body made me feel as if I were anointed with sandal-wood ointment, and bedewed with ambrosia, and I was in a state which I cannot describe. And in a moment my attendants re-assembled, and I was brought back reluctant to this my palace, and seemed to myself to have been cast down to earth from heaven. From that time forth I have often interviews in reveries with my beloved, that rescued me from death, and even when awake I seem to see him at my side. And when asleep I see him in dreams, coaxing me and dispelling my reserve with kisses and caresses. But, ill-fated wretch that I am, I cannot obtain him, for I am baffled by ignorance of his name and other particulars about him. So I am consumed, as you see, by the fire of separation from the lord of my life." When Manahsvámin's ears had been filled with the nectar of this speech of the princess's, that Bráhman, who was present there in female form, rejoiced, and considered that his object was attained, and that the time had come for revealing himself, so he took out the globule from his mouth, and displayed himself in his true form, and said; "Rolling-eyed one, I am that very Bráhman, whom you bought with a look in the garden, and made your slave in the truest sense of the word. And from the immediate interruption of our acquaintance I derived that sorrow, of which the final result was my taking, as you see, the form of a maiden. Therefore, fair one, grant that the sorrow of separation, which both of us have endured, may not have been borne in vain, for Cupid cannot endure beyond this point." When the princess suddenly beheld her beloved in front of her, and heard him utter these words, she was at once filled with love, astonishment, and shame. So they eagerly went through the Gándharva ceremony of marriage. Then Manahsvámin lived happily in the palace, under two shapes; keeping the globule in his mouth during the day and so wearing a female shape, but at night taking it out, and assuming the form of a man. Now, as days went on, the brother-in-law of king Yasahketu, named Mrigánkadatta, gave his own daughter, named Mrigánkavatí, in marriage to a young Bráhman, the son of the minister Prajnáságara: and with her he bestowed much wealth. And the princess Sasiprabhá was invited, on the occasion of her cousin's marriage, to her uncle's house, and went there accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting. And among them went the young Bráhman, Manahsvámin, wearing the attractive form of a young maiden of exquisite beauty. Then that minister's son beheld him disguised in female form, and was deeply pierced with the shafts of the archer Love. And when he went to his house, accompanied by his bride, it seemed to him to be empty; for he was robbed of his heart by that seeming maiden. Then he continued to think of nothing but the beauty of that supposed maiden's face, and bitten by the great snake of fierce passion, he suddenly became distracted. The people, who were there, ceased from their rejoicing, and in their bewilderment asked what it meant, and his father Prajnáságara, hearing of it, came to him in haste. And when his father tried to comfort him, he woke up from his stupor and uttered what was in his mind, babbling deliriously. And that father of his was very much troubled, as he thought that the matter was one altogether beyond his power. Then the king heard of it, and came there in person. And he at once saw that the minister's son had been in a moment reduced by strong passion to the seventh [347] stage of love-sickness; so he said to his ministers; "How can I give him a maiden whom a Bráhman left in my care? And yet, if he does not obtain her, he will without doubt reach the last stage. If he dies, his father, who is my minister, will perish; and if he perishes, my kingdom is ruined, so tell me what I am to do in this matter." When the king said this, all those ministers said, "They say that the special virtue of a king is the protection of the virtue of his subjects. Now the root of this protection is counsel, and counsel resides in counsellors. If the counsellor perishes, protection perishes in its root, and virtue is certain to be impaired. [348] Moreover guilt would be incurred by causing the death of this Bráhman minister and his son, so you must avoid doing that, otherwise there is a great chance of your infringing the law of virtue. Accordingly you must certainly give to the minister's son the maiden committed to your care by the first Bráhman, and if he returns after the lapse of some time, and is angry, steps can then be taken to put matters right." When the ministers said this to the king, he agreed to give that man, who was palming himself off as a maiden, to the minister's son. And after fixing an auspicious moment, he brought Manahsvámin, in female form, from the palace of the princess; and he said to the king; "If, king, you are determined to give me, whom another committed to your care, to a person other than him for whom I was intended, I must, I suppose, acquiesce; you are a king, and justice and injustice are matters familiar to you. But I consent to the marriage on this condition only, that I am not to be considered as a wife until my husband has spent six months in visiting holy bathing-places, and returns home; if this condition is not agreed to, know that I will bite my own tongue in two, and so commit suicide." When the young man, disguised in female form, had prescribed this condition, the king informed the minister's son of it, and he was consoled, and accepted the terms; and he quickly went through the ceremony of marriage, and placed in one house Mrigánkavatí his first wife, and his second supposed wife, carefully guarded, and, like a fool, went on a pilgrimage to holy bathing-places, to please the object of his affections. And Manahsvámin, in female form, dwelt in the same house with Mrigánkavatí, as the partner of her bed and board. And one night, while he was living there in this way, Mrigánkavatí said to him secretly in the bed-chamber, while their attendants were sleeping outside, "My friend, I cannot sleep, tell me some tale." When the young man, disguised in female form, heard this, he told her the story, how in old time a royal sage, named Ida, of the race of the sun, assumed, in consequence of the curse of Gaurí, a female form that fascinated the whole world, and how he and Budha fell in love with one another at first sight, meeting one another in a shrubbery in the grounds of a temple, and were there united, and how Purúravas was the fruit of that union. When the artful creature had told this story, he went on to say, "So by the fiat of a deity or by charms and drugs, a man may sometimes become a woman, and vice versâ, and in this way even great ones do sometimes unite impelled by love." When the tender fair one, who regretted her husband, who had left her as soon as the marriage had taken place, heard this, she said to her supposed rival, in whom she had come to confide by living with her, "This story makes my body tremble and my heart, as it were, sink; so tell me friend, what is the meaning of this." When the Bráhman, disguised in female form, heard this, he went on to say, "My friend, these are violent symptoms of love; I have felt them myself, I will not conceal it from you." When she said this, Mrigánkavatí went on slowly to say, "Friend, I love you as my life, so why should I not say what I think it is time to reveal? Could any one by any artifice be introduced into this palace?" When the pupil of that master-rogue heard this, he took her meaning and said to her, "If this is the state of affairs, then I have something to tell you. I have a boon from Vishnu, by which I can at pleasure become a man during the night, so I will now become one for your sake." So he took the globule out of his mouth, and displayed himself to her as a handsome man in the prime of youth. And so the Bráhman lived with the wife of the minister's son, becoming a woman in the day, and resuming his male form at night. But hearing in a few days that the son of the minister was on the point of returning, he took the precaution of eloping with her from that house during the night. At this point in the story, it happened that his teacher, Múladeva, heard all the circumstances; so he again assumed the form of an old Bráhman, and accompanied by his friend Sasin, who had assumed the form of a young Bráhman, he went and respectfully said to king Yasahketu, "I have brought back my son; so give me my daughter-in-law." Then the king, who was afraid of being cursed, deliberated and said to him; "Bráhman, I do not know where your daughter-in-law has gone, so forgive me; as I am in fault, I will give you my own daughter for your son." When the king had said this to that prince of rogues, disguised in the form of an old Bráhman, who asserted his false claim with the sternness of assumed anger, he gave his daughter with all due ceremonies to his friend Sasin, who pretended to be the supposed Bráhman's son. Then Múladeva took the bride and bridegroom, who had been thus united, off to his own home, without showing any desire for the king's wealth. And there Manahsvámin met them, and a fierce dispute took place between him and Sasin in the presence of that Múladeva. Manahsvámin said, "This Sasiprabhá should be given to me, for long ago, when she was a maiden, I married her by the favour of the master." Sasin said, "You fool, what have you to do with her? she is my wife, for her father bestowed her on me in the presence of the fire." So they went on wrangling about the princess, whom they had got hold of by means of magic, and their dispute was never decided. So tell me, king, to which of the two does that wife belong? Resolve my doubt; the conditions of non-compliance are those which I mentioned before." When king Trivikramasena was thus addressed by the Vetála on his shoulder, he gave him this answer: "I consider that the princess is the lawful wife of Sasin, since she was openly given to him by her father in the lawful way. But Manahsvámin married her in an underhand way, like a thief, by the Gándharva rite; and a thief has no lawful title to the possessions of another." When the Vetála heard this answer of the king's, he quickly left his shoulder, and went back to his own place, and the king hurried after him. NOTE. Oesterley tells us that in the Turkish Tútínámah (Rosen, II, p. 178,) a sorceress takes the place of Múladeva. She gives the young man a small seal in place of the pill or globule. He is then married to a son of the king's. Then the young man escapes with the princess, who in the day keeps the seal in her mouth and so appears as a man; then the sorceress goes in the form of a Bráhman to the king, who has to give her 10,000 gold pieces as he cannot give back her daughter. The story is No. 23 in the Persian Tútínámah, Iken, p. 97. Oesterley refers also to the story in the 7th Chapter of the Kathá Sarit Ságara; (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pages 203-205). The tale in one way resembles the Greek fable of Cæneus, and also that of Tiresias. The story of Iphis and Ianthe is perhaps still more apposite. According to Sir Thomas Brown, (Vulgar Errors, Book III, ch. 17) hares are supposed by some to be both male and female. He mentions Tiresias and Empedocles as instances of "transexion." Benfey gives a number of stories of this kind in the 1st Volume of his Panchatantra, pp. 41-52. He traces them all back to a tendency of the Indo-Germanic race to look upon their deities as belonging to both sexes at once. CHAPTER XC. (Vetála 16.) Then king Trivikramasena went back to the asoka-tree, and again took the Vetála from it, and set out with him on his shoulder; and as he was returning from the tree, the Vetála once more said to him, "Listen, king, I will tell you a noble story." Story of Jímútaváhana. [349] There is in this earth a great mountain named Himavat, where all jewels are found, which is the origin of both Gaurí and Gangá, the two goddesses dear to Siva. Even heroes cannot reach its top; [350] it towers proudly above all other mountains; and as such its praises are sung in strains of sooth in the three worlds. On the ridge of that Himavat there is that city rightly named the Golden City, which gleams like a mass of the sun's rays deposited by him on earth. Of old there lived in that splendid city a fortunate lord of the Vidyádharas, named Jímútaketu, who dwelt there like Indra on Meru. In his palace-garden there was a wishing-tree, which was an heirloom in his family, which was well known as the Granter of Desires, and not named so without reason. The king supplicated that divine tree, and obtained by its favour a son, who remembered his former birth, and was the incarnation of a portion of a Bodhisattva. He was a hero in munificence, of great courage, compassionate to all creatures, attentive to the instructions of his spiritual adviser, and his name was Jímútaváhana. And when he grew up to manhood, his father, the king, made him crown-prince, being impelled thereto by his excellent qualities, and the advice of the ministers. And when Jímútaváhana was made crown-prince, the ministers of his father, desiring his welfare, came to him and said, "Prince, you must continually worship this wishing-tree invincible by all creatures, [351] which grants all our desires. For, as long as we have this, not even Indra could injure us, much less any other enemy." When Jímútaváhana heard this, he inly reflected, "Alas! our predecessors, though they possessed such a divine tree, never obtained from it any fruit worthy of it; some of them asked it for wealth and did nothing more; so the mean creatures made themselves and this noble tree contemptible. Well, I will make it inserve a design which I have in my mind." After the noble prince had formed this resolution, he went to his father, and gained his goodwill by paying him all kinds of attentions, and said to him in private, as he was sitting at ease; "Father, you know that in this sea of mundane existence, all that we behold is unsubstantial, fleeting as the twinkling of the wave. Especially are the twilight, the dawn, and Fortune shortlived, disappearing as soon as revealed; where and when have they been seen to abide? Charity to one's neighbour is the only thing that is permanent in this cycle of change; it produces holiness and fame that bear witness for hundreds of yugas. So with what object, father, do we keep for ourselves such an unfailing wishing-tree, as all these phenomenal conditions are but momentary? Where, I ask, are those our predecessors who kept it so strenuously, exclaiming, 'It is mine, it is mine?' Where is it now to them? For which of them does it exist, and which of them exists for it? So, if you permit, father, I will employ this wishing-tree, that grants all desires, for attaining the matchless fruit of charity to one's neighbour." His father gave him leave, saying, "So be it!" And Jímútaváhana went and said to the wishing-tree, "O god, thou didst fulfil all the cherished wishes of our predecessors, so fulfil this one solitary wish of mine! Enable me to behold this whole earth free from poverty; depart, and good luck attend thee; thou art bestowed by me on the world that desires wealth." When Jímútaváhana had said this with joined hands, a voice came forth from the tree, "Since thou hast relinquished me, I depart." And in a moment the wishing-tree flew up to heaven, and rained wealth on the earth so plenteously, that there was not one poor man left on it. Then the glory of that Jímútaváhana spread through the three worlds, on account of that ardent compassion of his for all creatures. That made all his relations impatient with envy; and thinking that he and his father would be easy to conquer, as they were deprived of the calamity-averting tree which they had bestowed on the world, they put their heads together and formed a design, and then girded on their harness for war, to deprive Jímútaváhana and his father of their realm. When Jímútaváhana saw that, he said to his father, "Father, what other has might, when thou hast taken up arms? But what generous man desires to possess a realm, if he must do so by slaying his relations for the sake of this wicked perishable body? So of what use is sovereignty to us? We will depart to some other place, and practise virtue that brings happiness in both worlds. Let these miserable relations that covet our kingdom, joy their fill!" When Jímútaváhana said this, his father Jímútaketu answered him, "My son, I desire a realm for your sake only; if you, being penetrated with compassion, give it up, of what value is it to me, who am old?" When Jímútaváhana's father agreed to his proposal, he went with him and his mother to the Malaya mountain, abandoning his kingdom. There he made him a retreat in the valley of a brook, the stream of which was hidden by sandal-wood trees, and spent his time in waiting on his parents. And there he made a friend of the name of Mitrávasu, the son of Visvávasu a king of the Siddhas, who dwelt on that mountain. Now, one day, as Jímútaváhana was roaming about, he went into a temple of the goddess Gaurí, that was situated in a garden, in order to worship in the presence of the image. And there he saw a beautiful maiden accompanied by her attendants, playing on the lyre, intent on pleasing the daughter of the mountain. [352] And the deer were listening to the sweet sound of the lyre in the musical performance, standing motionless, as if abashed at beholding the beauty of her eyes. [353] She had a black pupil in her white eye, and it seemed as if it strove to penetrate to the root of her ear. [354] She was thin and elegant in her waist, which appeared as if the Creator had compressed it in his grasp, when making her, and deeply impressed on it the marks of his fingers in the form of wrinkles. The moment Jímútaváhana saw that beauty, it seemed as if she entered by his eyes, and stole away his heart. And when the maiden saw him, adorning the garden, producing longing and disturbance of soul, looking as if he were the god of spring retired to the forest through disgust at the burning up of the body of the god of Love, she was overpowered with affection, and so bewildered, that her lyre, as if it had been a friend, became distracted and mute. Then Jímútaváhana said to an attendant of hers, "What is your friend's auspicious name, and what family does she adorn?" When the attendant heard that, she said, "She is the sister of Mitrávasu, and the daughter of Visvávasu the king of the Siddhas, and her name is Malayavatí." When she had said this to Jímútaváhana, the discreet woman asked the son of the hermit, who had come with him, his name and descent, and then she made this brief remark to Malayavatí, smiling as she spoke, "My friend, why do you not welcome this prince of the Vidyádharas who has come here? For he is a guest worthy of being honoured by the whole world." When she said this, that daughter of the king of the Siddhas was silent, and her face was cast down through shame. Then her attendant said to Jímútaváhana, "The princess is bashful, permit me to shew you the proper courtesy in her place." So she alone gave him a garland with the arghya. Jímútaváhana, as soon as the garland was given to him, being full of love, took it, and threw it round the neck of Malayavatí. And she, looking at him with loving sidelong looks, placed, as it were, a garland of blue lotuses on him. Thus they went through a sort of silent ceremony of mutual election, and then a maid came and said to that Siddha maiden, "Princess, your mother desires your presence, come at once." When the princess heard that, she withdrew regretfully and reluctantly from the face of her beloved her gaze, that seemed to be fastened to it with the arrows of love, and managed not without a struggle to return to her house. And Jímútaváhana, with his mind fixed on her, returned to his hermitage. And when Malayavatí had seen her mother, she went at once and flung herself down on her bed, sick of separation from her beloved. Then her eyes were clouded, as it were by the smoke of the fire of love that burnt in her bosom, she shed floods of tears, and her body was tortured with heat; and though her attendants anointed her with sandal-wood unguent, and fanned her with the leaves of lotuses, she could not obtain any relief on the bed, in the lap of her attendant, or on the ground. Then the day retired somewhere with the glowing evening, and the moon ascending kissed the laughing forehead of the east, and though urged on by love she was too bashful to send a female messenger to her chosen one, or to adopt any of the measures that lovers usually take, but she seemed loth to live. And she was contracted in her heart, and she passed that night, which the moon made disagreeable to her, like a lotus which closes at night, and bewilderment hung round her, like a cloud of bees. And in the meanwhile Jímútaváhana, who was tortured at parting with her, though lying on his bed, spent the night as one who had fallen into the hand of Cupid; though his glow of love was of recent birth, a pallid hue began to shew itself in him; and though shame made him dumb, he uttered the pain which love produced. Next morning he returned with excessive longing to that temple of Gaurí, where he had seen the daughter of the king of the Siddhas. And while, distracted with the fire of passion, he was being consoled by the hermit's son, who had followed him there, Malayavatí also came there; for, as she could not bear separation, she had secretly gone out alone into a solitary place to abandon the body. And the girl, not seeing her lover, who was separated from her by a tree, thus prayed, with eyes full of tears, to the goddess Gaurí, "Goddess, though my devotion to thee has not made Jímútaváhana my husband in this life, let him be so in my next life!" As soon as she had said this, she made a noose with her upper garment, and fastened it to the branch of the asoka-tree in front of the temple of Gaurí. And she said "Prince Jímútaváhana, lord renowned over the whole world, how is it, that, though thou art compassionate, thou hast not delivered me?" When she had said this, she was proceeding to fasten the noose round her throat, but at that very moment a voice spoken by the goddess came from the air, "Daughter, do not act recklessly, for the Vidyádhara prince Jímútaváhana, the future emperor, shall be thy husband." When the goddess said this, Jímútaváhana also heard it, and seeing his beloved, he went up to her, and his friend accompanied him. And his friend, the hermit's son, said to the young lady, "See, here is that very bridegroom whom the goddess has in reality bestowed upon you." And Jímútaváhana, uttering many tender loving speeches, removed with his own hand the noose from her neck. Then they seemed to have experienced, as it were, a sudden shower of nectar, and Malayavatí remained with bashful eye, drawing lines upon the ground. And at that moment, one of her companions, who was looking for her, suddenly came up to her, and said in joyful accents, "Friend, you are lucky, and you are blessed with good fortune in that you have obtained the very thing which you desired. For, this very day, prince Mitrávasu said to the great king, your father, in my hearing, 'Father, that Vidyádhara prince Jímútaváhana, the object of the world's reverence, the bestower of the wishing-tree, who has come here, should be complimented by us, as he is our guest; and we cannot find any other match as good as him; so let us pay him a compliment by bestowing on him this pearl of maidens Malayavatí.' The king approved, saying 'So be it', and your brother Mitrávasu has now gone to the hermitage of the illustrious prince on this very errand. And I know that your marriage will take place at once, so come back to your palace, and let this illustrious prince also return to his dwelling." When the princess's companion said this to her, she departed slowly from that place, rejoicing and regretful, frequently turning her head. And Jímútaváhana also returned quickly to his hermitage, and heard from Mitrávasu, who came there, his commission, which fulfilled all his wishes, and welcomed it with joy. And as he remembered his former births, he gave him an account of one in which Mitrávasu was his friend, and Mitrávasu's sister his wife. [355] Then Mitrávasu was pleased, and informed the parents of Jímútaváhana, who were also delighted, and returned, to the joy of his own parents, having executed his mission successfully. And that very day he took Jímútaváhana to his own house, and he made preparations for the marriage festival with a magnificence worthy of his magic power, and on that very same auspicious day he celebrated the marriage of his sister to that Vidyádhara prince; and then Jímútaváhana, having obtained the desire of his heart, lived with his newly married wife Malayavatí. And once on a time, as he was roaming about out of curiosity with Mitrávasu on that Malaya mountain, he reached a wood on the shore of the sea. There he saw a great many heaps of bones, and he said to Mitrávasu, "What creatures are these whose bones are piled up here?" Then his brother-in-law Mitrávasu said to that compassionate man, "Listen, I will tell you the story of this in a few words. Long, long ago, Kadrú the mother of the snakes conquered Vinatá, the mother of Garuda, in a treacherous wager, and made her a slave. Through enmity caused thereby, the mighty Garuda, [356] though he had delivered his mother, began to eat the snakes the sons of Kadrú. He was thenceforth continually in the habit of entering Pátála, and some he smote, some he trampled, and some died of fright. "When Vásuki, the king of the snakes, saw that, he feared that his race would be annihilated at one fell swoop, so he supplicated Garuda, and made a compact with him, saying, 'King of birds, I will send you one snake every day to this shore of the southern sea for your meal. But you must by no means enter Pátála, for what advantage will you gain by destroying the snakes at one blow?' When the king of the snakes said this, the mighty Garuda saw that the proposal was to his advantage, and agreed to it. And from that time forth, the king of birds eats every day, on the shore of the sea, a snake sent by Vásuki. So these are heaps of bones of snakes devoured by Garuda, that have gradually accumulated in course of time, and come to look like the peak of a mountain." When Jímútaváhana, that treasure-house of courage and compassion, had heard, inly grieving, this story from the mouth of Mitrávasu, he thus answered him, "One cannot help grieving for king Vásuki, who, like a coward, offers up every day his subjects to their enemy with his own hand. As he has a thousand faces and a thousand mouths, why could he not say with one mouth to Garuda, 'Eat me first?' And how could he be so cowardly as to ask Garuda to destroy his race, and so heartless as to be able to listen continually unmoved to the lamentation of the Nága women? [357] And to think that Garuda, though the son of Kasyapa and a hero, and though sanctified by being the bearer of Krishna, should do such an evil deed! Alas the depths of delusion!" When the noble-hearted one had said this, he formed this wish in his heart, "May I obtain the one essential object in this world by the sacrifice of the unsubstantial body! May I be so fortunate as to save the life of one friendless terrified Nága by offering myself to Garuda!" While Jímútaváhana was going through these reflections, a doorkeeper came from Mitrávasu's father to summon them, and Jímútaváhana sent Mitrávasu home, saying to him, "Go you on first, I will follow." And after he had gone, the compassionate man roamed about alone, intent on effecting the object he had in view, and he heard afar off a piteous sound of weeping. And he went on, and saw near a lofty rocky slab a young man of handsome appearance plunged in grief: an officer of some monarch seemed to have just brought him and left him there, and the young man was trying to induce by loving persuasions [358] an old woman, who was weeping there, to return. And while Jímútaváhana was listening there in secret, melted with pity, eager to know who he could be, the old woman, overwhelmed with the weight of her grief, began to look again and again at the young man, and to lament his hard lot in the following words, "Alas Sankhachúda, you that were obtained by me by means of a hundred pangs! Alas, virtuous one! Alas! son, the only scion of our family, where shall I behold you again? Darling, when this moon of your face is withdrawn, your father will fall into the darkness of grief, and how will he live to old age? How will your body, that would suffer even from the touch of the sun's rays, be able to endure the agony of being devoured by Garuda? How comes it that Providence and the king of the snakes were able to find out you, the only son of ill-starred me, though the world of the snakes is wide?" When she thus lamented, the young man her son said to her, "I am afflicted enough, as it is, mother; why do you afflict me more? Return home; this is my last reverence to you, for I know it will soon be time for Garuda to arrive here." When the old woman heard that, she cast her sorrowful eyes all round the horizon, and cried aloud, "I am undone; who will deliver my son?" In the meanwhile Jímútaváhana, that portion of a Bodhisattva, having heard and seen that, said to himself, being profoundly touched with pity, "I see, this is an unhappy snake, of the name of Sankhachúda, who has now been sent by king Vásuki, to serve as food for Garuda. And this is his aged mother, whose only son he is, and who has followed him here out of love, and is lamenting piteously from grief. So, if I cannot save this wretched Nága by offering up this exceedingly perishable body, alas! my birth will have been void of fruit." When Jímútaváhana had gone through these reflections, he went joyfully up to the old woman, and said to her, "Mother, I will deliver your son." When the old woman heard that, she was alarmed and terrified, thinking that Garuda had come, and she cried out, "Eat me, Garuda, eat me!" Then Sankhachúda said, "Mother, do not be afraid, this is not Garuda. There is a great difference between this being who cheers one like the moon, and the terrible Garuda." When Sankhachúda said this, Jímútaváhana said, "Mother, I am a Vidyádhara, come to deliver your son; for I will give my body, disguised in clothes, to the hungry Garuda; and do you return home, taking your son with you." When the old woman heard that, she said, "By no means, for you are my son in a still higher sense, because you have shewn such compassion for us at such a time." When Jímútaváhana heard that, he replied, "You two ought not to disappoint my wish in this matter." And when he persistently urged this, Sankhachúda said to him; "Of a truth, noble-hearted man, you have displayed your compassionate nature, but I cannot consent to save my body at the cost of yours; for who ought to save a common stone by the sacrifice of a gem? The world is full of people like myself, who feel pity only for themselves, but people like you, who are inclined to feel pity for the whole world, are few in number; besides, excellent man, I shall never find it in my heart to defile the pure race of Sankhapála, as a spot defiles the disk of the moon." When Sankhachúda had in these words attempted to dissuade him, he said to his mother, "Mother, go back, and leave this terrible wilderness. Do you not see here this rock of execution, smeared with the clotted gore of snakes, awful as the luxurious couch of Death! But I will go to the shore of the sea, and worship the lord Gokarna, and quickly return, before Garuda comes here." When Sankhachúda had said this, he took a respectful leave of his sadly-wailing mother, and went to pay his devotions to Gokarna. And Jímútaváhana made up his mind that, if Garuda arrived in the meantime, he would certainly be able to carry out his proposed self-sacrifice for the sake of another. And while he was thus reflecting, he saw the trees swaying with the wind of the wings of the approaching king of birds, and seeming, as it were, to utter a cry of dissuasion. So he came to the conclusion that the moment of Garuda's arrival was at hand, and determined to offer up his life for another, he ascended the rock of sacrifice. And the sea, churned by the wind, seemed with the eyes of its bright-flashing jewels to be gazing in astonishment at his extraordinary courage. Then Garuda came along, obscuring the heaven, and swooping down, struck the great-hearted hero with his beak, and carried him off from that slab of rock. And he quickly went off with him to a peak of the Malaya mountain, to eat him there; and Jímútaváhana's crest-jewel was torn from his head, and drops of blood fell from him, as he was carried through the air. And while Garuda was eating that moon of the Vidyádhara race, he said to himself; "May my body thus be offered in every birth for the benefit of others, and let me not enjoy heaven or liberation, if they are dissociated from the opportunity of benefiting my neighbour." And while he was saying this to himself, a rain of flowers fell from heaven. In the meanwhile his crest-jewel, dripping with his blood, had fallen in front of his wife Malayavatí. When she saw it, she recognized it with much trepidation as her husband's crest-jewel, and as she was in the presence of her father-in-law and mother-in-law, she shewed it them with tears. And they, when they saw their son's crest-jewel, were at once beside themselves to think what it could mean. Then king Jímútaketu and queen Kanakavatí found out by their supernatural powers of meditation the real state of the case, and proceeded to go quickly with their daughter-in-law to the place where Garuda and Jímútaváhana were. In the meanwhile Sankhachúda returned from worshipping Gokarna, and saw, to his dismay, that that stone of sacrifice was wet with blood. Then the worthy fellow exclaimed with tears, "Alas! I am undone, guilty creature that I am! Undoubtedly that great-hearted one, in the fulness of his compassion, has given himself to Garuda in my stead. So I will find out to what place the enemy has carried him off in this moment. If I find him alive, I shall escape sinking in the mire of dishonour." While he said this, he went following up the track of the drops of blood, that he saw lying close to one another on the ground. In the meanwhile Garuda, who was engaged in devouring Jímútaváhana, saw that he was pleased; so he immediately stopped, and said to himself; "Strange! This must be some matchless hero; for the great-hearted one rejoices even while I am devouring him, but does not lose his life. And on so much of his body as is not lacerated, he has all the hairs erect, as it were a coat of mail; and his look is lovingly fixed on me, as if I were his benefactor. So he cannot be a snake; he must be some saint; I will cease from devouring him, and question him." While Garuda was thus musing, Jímútaváhana said to him; "King of birds, why do you desist? There is flesh and blood in my body, and you are not satisfied as yet, so go on eating it." When the king of birds heard this, he asked him with much astonishment, "Great-souled one, you are not a snake, so tell me who you are." But Jímútaváhana answered Garuda, "In truth I am a Nága; what is the meaning of this question of yours? Do your kind, for who, that is not foolish, would act [359] contrary to the purpose he had undertaken?" While he was giving this answer to Garuda, Sankhachúda came near, and called out to Garuda from a distance, "Do not do a rash and criminal deed, son of Vinatá. What delusion is this that possesses you? He is not a snake; lo! I am the snake designed for you." When Sankhachúda had said this, he came up quickly, and standing between those two, and seeing Garuda bewildered, he went on to say; "Why are you perplexed; do you not see that I have hoods and two tongues; and do you not observe the charming appearance of this Vidyádhara?" While Sankhachúda was saying this, the wife and parents of Jímútaváhana came there with speed. And his parents, seeing him mangled, immediately cried out, "Alas, son! Alas, Jímútaváhana! Alas, compassionate one who have given your life for others! How could you, son of Vinatá, do this thoughtless deed?" When Garuda heard this, he was grieved, and he said, "What! Have I in my delusion eaten an incarnation of a Bodhisattva? This is that very Jímútaváhana, who sacrifices his life for others, the renown of whose glory pervades all these three worlds? So, now that he is dead, the time has arrived for my wicked self to enter the fire. Does the fruit of the poison-tree of unrighteousness ever ripen sweet?" While Garuda was distracted with these reflections, Jímútaváhana, having beheld his family, fell down in the agony of his wounds, and died. Then his parents, tortured with sorrow, lamented, and Sankhachúda again and again blamed his own negligence. But Jímútaváhana's wife, Malayavatí, looked towards the heaven, and in accents choked with tears thus reproached the goddess Ambiká, who before was pleased with her, and granted her a boon, "At that time, O goddess Gaurí, thou didst promise me that I should have for husband one destined to be paramount sovereign over all the kings of the Vidyádharas, so how comes it that thou hast now falsified thy promise to me?" When she said this, Gaurí became visible, and saying "Daughter, my speech was not false," she quickly sprinkled Jímútaváhana with nectar from her pitcher. [360] That made the successful hero Jímútaváhana at once rise up more splendid than before, with all his limbs free from wounds. He rose up, and prostrated himself before the goddess, and then all prostrated themselves, and the goddess said to him, "My son, I am pleased with this sacrifice of thy body, so I now anoint thee with this hand of mine emperor over the Vidyádharas, and thou shalt hold the office for a kalpa." With these words Gaurí sprinkled Jímútaváhana with water from her pitcher, and after she had been worshipped, disappeared. And thereupon a heavenly rain of flowers fell on that spot, and the drums of the gods sounded joyously in the sky. Then Garuda, bending low, said to Jímútaváhana, "Emperor, I am pleased with thee, as thou art an unparalleled hero, since thou, of soul matchlessly generous, hast done this wonderful deed, that excites the astonishment of the three worlds, and is inscribed on the walls of the egg of Brahmá. So give me an order, and receive from me whatever boon thou dost desire." When Garuda said this, the great-hearted hero said to him, "Thou must repent, and never again devour the snakes; and let these snakes, whom thou didst devour before, whose bones only remain, return to life." Thereupon Garuda said, "So be it; from this day forth I will never eat the snakes again; heaven forefend! As for those that I ate on former occasions, let them return to life." Then all the snakes, that he had eaten before, whose bones alone remained, rose up unwounded, restored to life by the nectar of his boon. Then the gods, the snakes, and the hermit bands assembled there full of joy, and so the Malaya mountain earned the title of the three worlds. And then all the kings of the Vidyádharas heard by the favour of Gaurí the strange story of Jímútaváhana; and they immediately came and bowed at his feet, and after he had dismissed Garuda, they took him to the Himálayas, accompanied by his rejoicing relations and friends, a noble emperor whose great inauguration ceremony had been performed by Gaurí with her own hands. There Jímútaváhana, in the society of his mother and father, and of Mitrávasu and Malayavatí, and of Sankhachúda, who had gone to his own house, and returned again, long enjoyed the dignity of emperor of the Vidyádharas, rich in jewels, which had been gained by his marvellous and extraordinarily heroic action. Having told this very noble and interesting tale, the Vetála proceeded to put another question to king Trivikramasena, "So tell me, which of those two was superior in fortitude, Sankhachúda or Jímútaváhana? And the conditions are those which I mentioned before." When king Trivikramasena heard this question of the Vetála's, he broke his silence, through fear of a curse, and said with calm composure, "This behaviour was nowise astonishing in Jímútaváhana, as he had acquired this virtue in many births; but Sankhachúda really deserves praise, for that, after he had escaped death, he ran after his enemy Garuda, who had found another self-offered victim [361] and had gone a long distance with him, and importunately offered him his body." When that excellent Vetála had heard this speech of that king's, he left his shoulder and again went to his own place, and the king again pursued him as before. NOTE. Oesterley remarks that the substance of this story is told, in the eleventh chapter of the Vikra macharitam, of king Vikramáditya. A Rákshasa carried off so many persons from the city of Pala that the inhabitants agreed to give him one human being every day. The king takes the place of one of these victims, and the Rákshasa is so much affected by it, that he promises not to demand any more victims. A similar contest in generosity is found in the 2nd Tale of the Siddhi-kür, Jülg, p. 60, but the end of the story is quite different. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 205-207.) The story in the Siddhi-kür is probably the 5th Tale in Sagas from the Far East; "How the Serpent-gods were propitiated." CHAPTER XCI. (Vetála 17.) Then the brave king Trivikramasena went back once more to the asoka-tree, and taking the Vetála from it, carried him off on his shoulder. And when he had set out, the Vetála said to him from his perch on his shoulder, "Listen, king; to cheer your toil, I will tell you the following tale." Story of Unmádiní. [362] There was a city of the name [363] of Kanakapura situated on the bank of the Ganges, in which the bounds of virtue were never transgressed, and which was inaccessible to the demon Kali. In it there was a king rightly named Yasodhana, who, like a rocky coast, protected the earth against the sea of calamity. When Destiny framed him, she seemed to blend together the moon and the sun, for, though he delighted the world, the heat of his valour was scorching, and the circle of his territory never waned. This king was unskilled [364] in slandering his neighbour, but skilled in the meaning of the Sástras, he shewed poverty in crime, not in treasure and military force. His subjects sang of him as one afraid only of sin, covetous only of glory, averse to the wives of others, all compact of valour, generosity, and love. In that capital of that sovereign there was a great merchant, and he had an unmarried daughter, named Unmádiní. Whoever there beheld her, was at once driven mad by the wealth of her beauty, which was enough to bewilder even the god of love himself. And when she attained womanhood, her politic father, the merchant, went to king Yasodhana, and said to him, "King, I have a daughter to give in marriage, who is the pearl of the three worlds; I dare not give her away to any one else, without informing your Majesty. For to your Majesty belong all the jewels of the whole earth, so do me the favour of accepting or rejecting her." When the king heard this report from the merchant, he sent off, with due politeness, his own Bráhmans, to see whether she had auspicious marks or not. The Bráhmans went and saw that matchless beauty of the three worlds, and were at once troubled and amazed, but when they had recovered their self-control, they reflected; "If the king gets hold of this maiden the kingdom is ruined, for his mind will be thrown off its balance by her, and he will not regard his kingdom, so we must not tell the king that she possesses auspicious marks." When they had deliberated to this effect, [365] they went to the king, and said falsely to him, "She has inauspicious marks." Accordingly the king declined to take that merchant's daughter as his wife. Then, by the king's orders, the merchant, the father of the maiden Unmádiní, gave her in marriage to the commander of the king's forces, named Baladhara. And she lived happily with her husband in his house, but she thought that she had been dishonoured by the king's abandoning her on account of her supposed inauspicious marks. And as time went on, the lion of spring came to that place, slaying the elephant of winter, that, with flowering jasmine-creepers for tusks, had ravaged the thick-clustering lotuses. And it sported in the wood, with luxuriant clusters of flowers for mane, and with mango-buds for claws. At that season king Yasodhana, mounted on an elephant, went out to see the high festival of spring in that city of his. And then a warning drum was beaten, to give notice to all matrons to retire, as it was apprehended that the sight of his beauty might prove their ruin. When Unmádiní heard that drum, she shewed herself to the king on the roof of her palace, to revenge the insult he had offered her by refusing her. And when the king saw her, looking like a flame shooting up from the fire of love, when fanned by spring and the winds from the Malaya mountain, he was sorely troubled. And gazing on her beauty, that pierced deep into his heart, like a victorious dart of Cupid, he immediately swooned. His servants managed to bring him round, and when he had entered his palace, he found out from them, by questioning them, that this was the very beauty who had been formerly offered to him, and whom he had rejected. Then the king banished from his realm those who reported that she had inauspicious marks, and thought on her with longing, night after night, saying to himself, "Ah! how dull of soul and shameless is the moon, that he continues to rise, while her spotless face is there, a feast to the eyes of the world!" Thinking thus in his heart, the king, being slowly wasted by the smouldering fires of love, pined away day by day. But through shame he concealed the cause of his grief, and with difficulty was he induced to tell it to his confidential servants, who were led by external signs to question him. Then they said; "Why fret yourself? Why do you not take her to yourself, as she is at your command?" But the righteous sovereign would not consent to follow their advice. Then Baladhara, the commander-in-chief, heard the tidings, and being truly devoted to him, he came and flung himself at the feet of his sovereign, and made the following petition to him, "King, you should look upon this female slave as your slave-girl, not as the wife of another; and I bestow her freely upon you, so deign to accept my wife. Or I will abandon her in the temple here, then, king, there will be no sin in your taking her to yourself, as there might be, if she were a matron." When the commander-in-chief persistently entreated the king to this effect, the king answered him with inward wrath, "How could I, being a king, do such an unrighteous deed? If I desert the path of right, who will remain loyal to his duty? And how can you, though devoted to me, urge me to commit a crime, which will bring momentary pleasure, [366] but cause great misery in the next world? And if you desert your lawful wife, I shall not allow your crime to go unpunished, for who in my position could tolerate such an outrage on morality? So death is for me the best course." With these words the king vetoed the proposal of the commander-in-chief, for men of noble character lose their lives sooner than abandon the path of virtue. And in the same way the resolute-minded monarch rejected the petition of his citizens, and of the country-people, who assembled, and entreated him to the same effect. Accordingly, the king's body was gradually consumed by the fire of the grievous fever of love, and only his name and fame remained. [367] But the commander-in-chief could not bear the thought that the king's death had been brought about in this way, so he entered the fire; for the actions of devoted followers are inexplicable. [368] When the Vetála, sitting on the shoulder of king Trivikramasena, had told this wonderful tale, he again said to him, "So tell me, king, which of these two was superior in loyalty, the general or the king; and remember, the previous condition still holds." When the Vetála said this, the king broke silence, and answered him, "Of these two the king was superior in loyalty." When the Vetála heard this, he said to him reproachfully, "Tell me, king, how can you make out that the general was not his superior? For, though he knew the charm of his wife's society by long familiarity, he offered such a fascinating woman to the king out of love for him; and when the king was dead, he burnt himself; but the king refused the offer of his wife without knowing anything about her." When the Vetála said this to the king, the latter laughed, and said, "Admitting the truth of this, what is there astonishing in the fact, that the commander-in-chief, a man of good family, acted thus for his master's sake, out of regard for him? For servants are bound to preserve their masters even by the sacrifice of their lives. But kings are inflated with arrogance, uncontrollable as elephants, and when bent on enjoyment, they snap asunder the chain of the moral law. For their minds are overweening, and all discernment is washed out of them, when the waters of inauguration are poured over them, and is, as it were, swept away by the flood. And the breeze of the waving chowries fans away the atoms of the sense of scripture taught them by old men, as it fans away flies and mosquitoes. And the royal umbrella keeps off from them the rays of truth, as well as the rays of the sun; and their eyes, smitten by the gale of prosperity, do not see the right path. And so even kings, that have conquered the world, like Nahusha and others, have had their minds bewildered by Mára, and have been brought into calamity. But this king, though his umbrella was paramount in the earth, was not fascinated by Unmádiní, fickle as the goddess of Fortune; indeed, sooner than set his foot on the wrong path, he renounced life altogether; therefore him I consider the more self-controlled of the two." When the Vetála heard this speech of the king's, he again rapidly quitted his shoulder by the might of his delusive power, and returned to his own place; and the king followed him swiftly, as before, to recover him: for how can great men leave off in the middle of an enterprise, which they have begun, even though it be very difficult? NOTE. Oesterley states that this tale is No. 26, in the Persian Tútínámah, in Iken, p. 109. The deliberations about carrying off the wife of the commander-in-chief are, in this form of the story, carried on in the presence of the counsellors only; and the king is the only one that dies. From the Persian Tútínámah the story has passed in a very similar form into the Turkish Tútínámah. Compare Malespíní, 1, No. 102, (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 207, 208.) The story, as told by Sivadása, will be found in Bezzenberger's Beiträge zur Kunde der Indo-germanischen Sprachen, Vol. IV, p. 360. Dr. Zachariæ, the author of the paper, gives a reference to the Rajataranginí, IV, 17-37, which Professor Bühler pointed out to him. He tells us that the story is the 14th in Jambhaladatta's recension. The story is also found in the parables of Buddhaghosha; in a form based upon the Ummadantíjátaka. Dr. Zachariæ gives the Pali text of this Játaka in an Appendix, and the corresponding Sanskrit version of the tale from the Játakamálá of Aryasúra. He also refers his readers to Upham's Mahávanso, pp. 212-213; Beal, Texts from the Buddhist canon, commonly known as Dhammapada, Section XXIII, Advantageous Service; Bigandet, The life or legend of Gaudama, the Buddha of the Burmese, pp. 220-221; and Mary Summer, Histoire du Bouddha Sákya-Mouni, (Paris, 1874,) p. 145. In the Pali version the Bráhmans are so bewildered at the sight of the girl that they cannot eat, but put their rice on their heads &c. instead of putting it in their mouths; so she has them driven out by her servants. Out of revenge they tell the king that she is a kálakanni, which according to Childers means "a hag." In the Játakamálá they are too much bewildered to stand, much less to eat; but the report which they make is much the same as in our text, and made from the same motives. CHAPTER XCII. (Vetála 18.) Then in that cemetery, full of the flames of funeral pyres, as of demons, flesh-devouring, with lolling tongues of fire, the undaunted king Trivikramasena went back that same night to the asoka-tree. And there he unexpectedly saw many corpses of similar appearance hanging upon the tree, and they all seemed to be possessed by Vetálas. The king said to himself, "Ah! what is the meaning of this? Is this deluding Vetála doing this now in order to waste my time? For I do not know which of these many corpses here I ought to take. If this night shall pass away without my accomplishing my object, I will enter the fire, I will not put up with disgrace." But the Vetála discovered the king's intention, and pleased with his courage, he withdrew that delusion. Then the king beheld only one Vetála on the tree in the corpse of a man, and he took it down, and put it on his shoulder, and once more started off with it. And as he trudged along, the Vetála again said to him, "King, your fortitude is wonderful: so listen to this my tale." Story of the Bráhman's son who failed to acquire the magic power. There is a city called Ujjayiní, inferior only to Bhogavatí and Amarávatí, which Siva, who was won by the toilsome asceticism of Gaurí, being in love with the matchless pre-eminence of its excellence, himself selected as his habitation. It is full of various enjoyments, to be attained only by distinguished well-doing; in that city stiffness and hardness is seen only in the bosoms of the ladies, curvature only in their eye-brows, [369] and fickleness only in their rolling eyes; darkness only in the nights; crookedness only in the ambiguous phrases of poets; madness only in elephants; and coldness only in pearls, sandal-wood juice, and the moon. In that city there was a learned Bráhman, named Devasvámin, who had offered many sacrifices, and possessed great wealth, and who was highly honoured by the king, whose name was Chandraprabha. In time there was born to that Bráhman a son, named Chandrasvámin, and he, though he had studied the sciences, was, when he grew up, exclusively devoted to the vice of gambling. [370] Now once on a time that Bráhman's son, Chandrasvámin, entered a great gambling-hall to gamble. Calamities seemed to be continually watching that hall with tumbling dice for rolling eyes, like the black antelope in colour, and saying to themselves, "Whom shall we seize on here?" And the hall, full of the noise of the altercations of gamblers, seemed to utter this cry, "Who is there whose wealth I could not take away? I could impoverish even Kuvera the lord of Alaká." Then he entered the hall, and playing dice with gamblers, he lost his clothes and all, and then he lost borrowed money in addition. And when he was called upon to pay that impossible sum, he could not do it, so the keeper of the gambling-hall seized him and beat him with sticks. [371] And that Bráhman's son, when beaten with sticks all over his body, made himself motionless as a stone, and to all appearance dead, and remained in that state. When he had remained there in that condition for two or three days, the proprietor of the gambling establishment got angry, and said, in the gambling-hall, to the gamblers, who frequented it; "This fellow has begun to try on the petrifaction dodge, so take the spiritless wretch and throw him into some blind well; but I will give you the money." When the proprietor said this to the gamblers, they took up Chandrasvámin, and carried him to a distant wood to look for a well. There an old gambler said to the others, "This fellow is all but dead; so what is the good of throwing him into a well now? So let us leave him here, and say that we left him in a well." All approved his speech, and agreed to do as he recommended. Then the gamblers left Chandrasvámin there and went their ways, and he rose up and entered an empty temple of Siva that stood near. There he recovered his strength a little, and reflected in his grief, "Alas! being over-confiding, I have been robbed by these gamblers by downright cheating, so, where can I go in this condition, naked, cudgelled, and begrimed with dust? What would my father, my relations, or my friends say of me, if they saw me? So I will remain here for the present, and at night I will go out, and see how I can make shift to get food, to satisfy my hunger." While he was going through these reflections in hunger and nakedness, the sun abated his heat, and abandoned his garment the sky, and went to the mountain of setting. Thereupon there came there a Pásupata ascetic with his body smeared with ashes, with matted hair and a trident, looking like a second Siva. When he saw Chandrasvámin, he said to him, "Who are you?" Thereupon Chandrasvámin told him his story, and bowed before him, and the hermit when he heard it, said to him; "You have arrived at my hermitage, as an unexpected guest, exhausted with hunger; so rise up, bathe, and take a portion of the food I have obtained by begging." When the hermit said this to Chandrasvámin, he answered, "Reverend sir, I am a Bráhman; how can I eat a part of your alms?" When the hospitable hermit who possessed magic powers, heard that, he entered his hut, and called to mind the science which produces whatever one desires, and the science appeared to him when he called it to mind, and said, "What shall I do for you?" And he gave it this order; "Provide entertainment for this guest." The science answered "I will;" and then Chandrasvámin beheld a golden city rise up, with a garden attached to it, and full of female attendants. And those females came out of that city, and approached the astonished Chandrasvámin, and said to him; "Rise up, good sir; come, eat, and forget your fatigue." Then they took him inside, and made him bathe, and anointed him; and they put splendid garments on him, and took him to another magnificent dwelling; and there the young man beheld a young woman who seemed their chief, who was beautiful in all her limbs, and appeared to have been made by the Creator out of curiosity to see what he could do. She rose up, eager to welcome him, and made him sit beside her on her throne, and he partook with her of heavenly food, and ate with much delight betel-nut, flavoured with five fruits. And next morning he woke up, and saw only that temple of Siva there, and neither that city, nor that heavenly lady nor her attendants. Then the hermit came out of the hut smiling, and asked him how he had enjoyed himself in the night, and the discreet Chandrasvámin, in his despondency, said to the hermit, "By your favour, reverend sir, I spent the night happily enough; but now, without that heavenly lady, my life will depart." When the hermit heard that, being kind-hearted, he laughed and said to him, "Remain here, you shall have exactly the same experiences this night also." When the hermit said this, Chandrasvámin consented to stay, and by the favour of the hermit, he was provided by the same means with the same enjoyments every night. And at last he understood that this was all produced by magic science, so, one day, impelled by destiny, he coaxed that mighty hermit and said to him, "If, reverend sir, you really take pity on me, who have fled to you for protection, bestow on me that science, whose power is so great." When he urged this request persistently, the hermit said to him, "You cannot attain this science; for it is attained under the water, and while the aspirant is muttering spells under the water, the science creates delusions to bewilder him, so that he does not attain success. For there he sees himself born again, and a boy, and then a youth, and then a young man, and married, and then he supposes that he has a son. And he is falsely deluded, supposing that one person is his friend and another his enemy, and he does not remember this birth, nor that he is engaged in a magic rite for acquiring science. But whoever, when he seems to have reached twenty-four years, is recalled to consciousness by the science of his instructor, and being firm of soul, remembers his real life, and knows that all he supposes himself to experience is the effect of illusion, and though he is under the influence of it, enters the fire, attains the science, and rising from the water, sees the real truth. But if the science is not attained by the pupil on whom it is bestowed, it is lost to the teacher also, on account of its having been communicated to an unfit person. You can attain all the results you desire by my possession of the science; why do you shew this persistence? Take care that my power is not lost, and that so your enjoyment is not lost also." Though the hermit said this, Chandrasvámin persisted in saying to him, "I shall be able to do all that is required [372]; do not be anxious about that." Then the hermit consented to give him the science. What will not good men do for the sake of those that implore their aid? Then the Pásupata ascetic went to the bank of the river, and said to him, "My son, when, in repeating this charm, you behold that illusion, I will recall you to consciousness by my magic power, and you must enter the fire which you will see in your illusion. For I shall remain here all the time on the bank of the river to help you. When that prince of ascetics had said this, being himself pure, he duly communicated that charm to Chandrasvámin, who was purified and had rinsed his mouth with water. Then Chandrasvámin bowed low before his teacher, and plunged boldly into the river, while he remained on the bank. And while he was repeating over that charm in the water, he was at once bewildered by its deluding power, and cheated into forgetting the whole of that birth. And he imagined himself to be born in his own person in another town, as the son of a certain Bráhman, and he slowly grew up. And in his fancy he was invested with the Bráhmanical thread, and studied the prescribed sciences, and married a wife, and was absorbed in the joys and sorrows of married life, and in course of time had a son born to him, and he remained in that town engaged in various pursuits, enslaved by love for his son, devoted to his wife, with his parents and relations. While he was thus living through in his fancy a life other than his real one, the hermit his teacher employed the charm, whose office it was to rouse him at the proper season. He was suddenly awakened from his reverie by the employment of that charm, and recollected himself and that hermit, and became aware that all that he was apparently going through was magic illusion, and he became eager to enter the fire, in order to gain the fruit, which was to be attained by the charm; but he was surrounded by his elders, friends, superiors and relations, who all tried to prevent him. Still, though they used all kinds of arguments to dissuade him, being desirous of heavenly enjoyment, he went with his relations to the bank of the river, on which a pyre was prepared. There he saw his aged parents and his wife ready to die with grief, and his young children crying; and in his bewilderment he said to himself; "Alas! my relations will all die, if I enter the fire, and I do not know if that promise of my teacher's is true or not. So shall I enter the fire? Or shall I not enter it? After all, how can that promise of my teacher's be false, as it is so precisely in accordance with all that has taken place? So, I will gladly enter the fire." When the Bráhman Chandrasvámin had gone through these reflections, he entered the fire. And to his astonishment the fire felt as cool to him as snow. Then he rose up from the water of the river, the delusion having come to an end, and went to the bank. There he saw his teacher on the bank, and he prostrated himself at his feet, and when his teacher questioned him, he told him all his experiences, ending with the cool feel of the fire. Then his teacher said to him, "My son, I am afraid you have made some mistake in this incantation, otherwise how can the fire have become cool to you? This phenomenon in the process of acquiring this science is unprecedented." When Chandrasvámin heard this remark of his teacher's, he answered, "Reverend sir, I am sure that I made no mistake." Then the teacher, in order to know for certain, called to mind that science, and it did not present itself to him or his pupil. So, as both of them had lost the science, they left that place despondent. "When the Vetála had told this story, he once more put a question to king Trivikramasena, after mentioning the same condition as before; "King, resolve this doubt of mine; tell me, why was the science lost to both of them, though the incantation was performed in the prescribed way?" When the brave king heard this speech of the Vetála's, he gave him this answer; "I know, lord of magic, you are bent on wasting my time here, still I will answer. A man cannot obtain success even by performing correctly a difficult ceremony, unless his mind is firm, and abides in spotless courage, unhesitating and pure from wavering. But in that business the mind of that spiritless young Bráhman wavered, even when roused by his teacher, [373] so his charm did not attain success, and his teacher lost his mastery over the charm, because he had bestowed it on an undeserving aspirant." When the king had said this, the mighty Vetála again left his shoulder and went back invisible to his own place, and the king went back to fetch him as before. NOTE. The above story closely resembles one quoted from the Turkish Tales in the 94th number of the Spectator. A sultan of Egypt was directed by a great doctor in the law, who had the gift of working miracles, to place himself in a huge tub of water, which he accordingly did; and as he stood by the tub amidst a circle of his great men, the holy man bid him plunge his head into the water and draw it up again. The king accordingly thrust his head into the water, and at the same time found himself at the foot of a mountain on the sea-shore. The king immediately began to rage against his doctor for this piece of treachery and witchcraft; but at length, knowing it was in vain to be angry, he set himself to think on proper methods for getting a livelihood in this strange country. Accordingly he applied himself to some people, whom he saw at work in a neighbouring wood: these people conducted him to a town that stood at a little distance from the wood, where after some adventures, he married a woman of great beauty and fortune. He lived with this woman so long that he had by her seven sons and seven daughters. He was afterwards reduced to great want, and forced to think of plying in the streets as a porter for his livelihood. One day, as he was walking alone by the seaside, being seized with many melancholy reflections upon his former and his present state of life, which had raised a fit of devotion in him, he threw off his clothes in the desire to wash himself, according to the custom of the Muhammadans, before he said his prayers. After his first plunge into the sea, he no sooner raised his head above the water, than he found himself standing by the side of the tub, with the great men of his court about him, and the holy man at his side. He immediately upbraided his teacher for having sent him on such a course of adventures, and betrayed him into so long a state of misery and servitude; but was wonderfully surprised when he heard that the state he talked of was only a dream and a delusion; that he had not stirred from the place where he then stood; and that he had only dipped his head into the water, and taken it out again. Oesterley compares the story of Devadatta in the 26th Taranga of this work. CHAPTER XCIII. (Vetála 19.) Then king Trivikramasena again went and took the Vetála from the asoka-tree, and putting him on his shoulder, set out with him; and as he was returning from the tree, the Vetála once more said to him, "Listen, king, I will tell you a delightful tale." Story of the Thief's Son. There is a city named Vakrolaka, equal to the city of the gods; in it there dwelt a king named Súryaprabha, equal to Indra. He, like Vishnu, rescued this earth, and bore it long time on his arm, gladdening all men by his frame ever ready to bear their burdens. [374] In the realm of that king tears were produced only by contact with smoke, there was no talk of death except in the case of the living death of starved lovers, and the only fines were the fine gold sticks in the hands of his warders. He was rich in all manner of wealth, and he had only one source of grief, namely, that, though he had many wives, no son was born to him. Now, at this point of the story, there was a merchant, of the name of Dhanapála, in the great city of Támraliptí, the wealthiest of the wealthy. And he had born to him one daughter only, and her name was Dhanavatí, who was shewn by her beauty to be a Vidyádharí fallen by a curse. When she grew up to womanhood, the merchant died; and his relations seized his property, as the king did not interfere to protect it. Then the wife of that merchant, who was named Hiranyavatí, took her own jewels and ornaments, which she had carefully concealed, and left her house secretly at the beginning of night, with her daughter Dhanavatí, and fled, to escape from her husband's relations. And with difficulty did she get outside the town, leaning upon the hand of her daughter, for without her was the darkness of night, and within her the darkness of grief. And as she went along in the thick darkness outside the town, it chanced, so fate would have it, that she ran her shoulder against a thief impaled on a stake, whom she did not see. He was still alive, and his pain being aggravated by the blow he received from her shoulder, he said, "Alas! who has rubbed salt into my wounds?" The merchant's wife then and there said to him, "Who are you?" He answered her, "I am a detected thief impaled here, [375] and though I am impaled, my breath has not yet left my body, wicked man that I am. So tell me, lady, who you are and whither you are going in this manner." When the merchant's wife heard this, she told him her story; and at that moment the eastern quarter adorned her face with the outshining moon, as with a beauty-patch. Then, all the horizon being lighted up, the thief saw the merchant's daughter, the maiden Dhanavatí, and said to her mother, "Listen to one request of mine; I will give you a thousand pieces of gold; come, give me this maiden daughter of yours to wife." She laughed, and said, "What do you want with her?" Then the thief replied, "I am now as good as dead, and I have no son; and you know, a sonless man does not inherit the worlds of bliss. But, if you agree to my proposal, whatever son she may give birth to by my appointment, whoever may be his father, will be the issue raised up to me. This is the reason why I ask for her, but do you accomplish that desire of mine." When the merchant's widow heard this, she consented to it out of avarice. And she brought water from somewhere or other, and poured it on the hand of that thief, and said, "I give you this my maiden daughter in marriage." He then gave to her daughter the command aforesaid, and then said to the merchant's widow, "Go and dig at the foot of this banyan-tree, and take the gold you find there; and when I am dead, have my body burnt with the usual ceremonies, and throw my bones into some sacred water, and go with your daughter to the city of Vakrolaka. There the people are made happy by good government under king Súryaprabha, and you will be able to live as you like, free from anxiety, as you will not be persecuted." When the thief had said this, being thirsty, he drank some water which she brought; and his life came to an end, spent with the torture of impalement. Then the merchant's widow went and took the gold from the foot of the banyan-tree, and went secretly with her daughter to the house of a friend of her husband's; and while she was there, she managed to get that thief's body duly burnt, and had his bones thrown into a sacred water, and all the other rites performed. And the next day she took that concealed wealth, and went off with her daughter, and travelling along reached in course of time that city Vakrolaka. There she bought a house from a great merchant named Vasudatta, and lived in it with her daughter Dhanavatí. Now at that time there lived in that city a teacher of the name of Vishnusvámin. And he had a pupil, a very handsome Bráhman of the name of Manahsvámin. And he, though he was of high birth and well-educated, was so enslaved by the passions of youth that he fell in love with a hetæra of the name of Hansávalí. But she demanded a fee of five hundred gold dínárs, and he did not possess this sum, so he was in a state of perpetual despondency. And one day that merchant's daughter Dhanavatí saw him from the top of her palace, such as I have described, with attenuated but handsome frame. Her heart was captivated by his beauty; so she called to mind the injunction of that thief her husband, and artfully said to her mother, who was near her; "Mother, behold the beauty and youth of this young Bráhman, how charming they are, raining nectar into the eyes of the whole world." When that merchant's widow heard this, she saw that her daughter was in love with the young Bráhman, and she thought thus in her mind; "My daughter is bound by the orders of her husband to choose some man, in order to raise up issue to her husband, so why should she not invite this one?" When she had gone through these reflections, she entrusted her wish to a confidential maid, and sent her to bring the Bráhman for her daughter. The maid went and took that Bráhman aside, and communicated her mistress's wish to him, and that young and dissolute Bráhman said to her; "If they will give me five hundred gold dínárs for Hansávalí, I will go there for one night." When he said this to the maid, she went and communicated it to the merchant's widow, and she sent the money to him by her hand. When Manahsvámin had received the money, he went with the maid to the private apartments of the widow's daughter, Dhanavatí, who had been made over to him. Then he saw that expectant fair one, the ornament of the earth, as the partridge beholds the moonlight, and rejoiced; and after passing the night there, he went away secretly next morning. And Dhanavatí, the merchant's daughter, became pregnant by him, and in due time she brought forth a son, whose auspicious marks foreshadowed his lofty destiny. She and her mother were much pleased at the birth of a son; and then Siva manifested himself to them in a dream by night, and said to them; "Take this boy, as he lies in his cradle, and leave him, with a thousand gold pieces, early in the morning, at the door of king Súryaprabha. In this way all will turn out well." The merchant's widow and the merchant's daughter, having received this command from Siva, woke up, and told one another their dream. And relying upon the god, they took the boy and the gold, and laid them together at the gate of king Súryaprabha's palace. [376] In the meanwhile Siva thus commanded in a dream king Súryaprabha, who was tormented with anxiety to obtain a son; "Rise up, king, somebody has placed at the gate of your palace a handsome child and some gold, take him as he lies in his cradle." When Siva had said this to the king, he woke up in the morning, and at that moment the warders came in and told him the same, and so he went out himself, and seeing at the gate of the palace that boy with a heap of gold, and observing that he was of auspicious appearance, having his hands and feet marked with the line, the umbrella, the banner and other marks, he said, "Siva has given me a suitable child," and he himself took him up in his arms, and went into the palace with him. And he made a feast, and gave away an incalculable amount of wealth, so that only the word "poor" was without its proper wealth of signification. And king Súryaprabha spent twelve days in music, and dancing, and other amusements, and then he gave that son the name of Chandraprabha. And gradually prince Chandraprabha increased in stature as well as in excellent character, delighting his dependants by both. And in course of time he grew up, and became capable of bearing the weight of the earth, winning over the subjects by his courage, his generosity, his learning, and other accomplishments. And his father, king Súryaprabha, seeing that he possessed these qualities, appointed him his successor in the kingdom, and being an old man, and having accomplished all his ends in life, he went to Váránasí. And while that son of his, distinguished for policy, was ruling the earth, he abandoned his body at Váránasí, in the performance of severe asceticism. And that pious king Chandraprabha, hearing of the death of his father, lamented for him, and performed the usual ceremonies, and then said to his ministers, "How can I ever pay my debt to my father? However I will make one recompense to him with my own hand. I will take his bones and duly fling them into the Ganges, and I will go to Gayá, and offer an obsequial cake to all the ancestors, and I will diligently perform a pilgrimage to all sacred waters, as far as the eastern sea." When the king said this, his ministers said to him, "Your majesty, kings ought never to do these things, for sovereignty has many weak points, and cannot subsist a moment without being upheld. So you must pay this debt to your father by the instrumentality of another. What visiting of holy waters, other than the doing of your duty, is incumbent upon you? Kings, who are ever carefully guarded, have nothing to do with pilgrimage, which is exposed to many dangers." When king Chandraprabha heard this speech of his ministers', he answered them, "Away with doubts and hesitations! I must certainly go for my father's sake; and I must visit the sacred waters, while I am young and strong enough. Who knows what will take place hereafter, for the body perishes in a moment? And you must guard my kingdom until my return." When the ministers heard this resolve of the king's, they remained silent. So the king got ready all the requisites for the journey. Then, on an auspicious day, the king bathed, made offerings to the fire, gave complimentary presents to Bráhmans, and ascended a chariot to which the horses were yoked, subdued in spirit and wearing the dress of an ascetic, [377] and started on his pilgrimage. With difficulty did he induce the feudal chiefs, the Rájpúts, the citizens, and the country people, who followed him as far as the frontier, to return, much against their will; and so, throwing the burden of his realm upon his ministers, king Chandraprabha set out in the company of his private chaplain, attended by Bráhmans in chariots. He was diverted by beholding various garbs, and hearing various languages, and by the other distractions of travel, and so seeing on his way all kinds of countries, in course of time he reached the Ganges. And he gazed upon that river, which seemed with the ridges of its waves to be making a ladder for mortals to ascend into heaven by; and which might be said to imitate Ambiká, since it sprang from the mountain Himavat, and playfully pulled in its course the hair of Siva, and was worshipped by the divine Rishis and the Ganas. So he descended from his chariot, and bathed in that river, and threw into it in accordance with pious custom the bones of king Súryaprabha. And after he had given gifts and performed the sráddha, he ascended the chariot, and set out, and in course of time reached Prayága [378] celebrated by rishis, where the meeting streams of the Ganges and Yamuná gleam for the welfare of men, like the line of flame and the line of smoke of the sacrificial butter blending together. There king Chandraprabha fasted, and performed with various pious actions, such as bathing, distribution of wealth, and so on, the solemn ceremony of the sráddha, and then he went on to Váránasí, which seemed by the silken banners of its temples, tossed up and down by gusts of wind, to cry out from afar, "Come and attain salvation." In that city he fasted for three days, and then worshipped Siva with various meat-offerings, as became his own rank, and then set out for Gayá. As he travelled through the woods, the trees, which were bent down by the weight of their fruit, and in which the birds were sweetly singing, seemed at every step to be bowing before him and praising him at the same time; and the winds, throwing about the woodland flowers, seemed to honour him with posies. And so he crossed the forest districts and reached the sacred hill of Gayá. [379] And there he duly performed a sráddha, in which he bestowed many gifts on Bráhmans, and then he entered the Holy Wood. And while he was offering the sacrificial cake to his father in the well of Gayá, there rose out of it three human hands to take the cake. When the king saw this, he was bewildered, and said to his own Bráhmans; "What does this mean? Into which hand am I to put the cake?" They said to him, "King, this hand in which an iron spike is seen, is certainly the hand of a thief; and this second hand, which holds a colander, [380] is the hand of a Bráhman; and this third hand, which has the ring and the auspicious marks, is the hand of a king. So we do not know into which hand the sacrificial cake is to be put, or what all this means." When the Bráhmans said this to the king, he was unable to arrive at any certain decision. When the Vetála, on the shoulder of the king, had told this wonderful tale, he said to king Trivikramasena, "Now into whose hand should the cake have been put? Let your Highness tell me that; and remember the previous condition is still binding on you." When king Trivikramasena, who was well versed in law, heard this from the Vetála, he broke silence, and answered him; "The sacrificial cake should have been placed in the hand of the thief, for king Chandraprabha was his son, raised up to him by his appointment, and he was not the son of either of the other two. For though the Bráhman begot him, he cannot be considered his father, as he sold himself for money for that one night. However he might have been considered the son of king Súryaprabha, because he had the sacraments performed for him, and brought him up, if the king had not received his wealth for the purpose. For the gold, which was placed at the head of the child in the cradle, was the price paid to king Súryaprabha for bringing him up, and other services. Accordingly king Chandraprabha was the son, begotten by another man, of that thief, who received his mother with the pouring of water over the hands, who gave the order for his being begotten, and to whom all that wealth belonged; and he ought to have placed the sacrificial cake in the thief's hand; this is my opinion." When the king said this, the Vetála left his shoulder, and went to his own place, and king Trivikramasena again went after him to bring him back. NOTE. It appears from the analysis which Oesterley gives of the Sanskrit original by Sivadása, that the Hindi version resembles more nearly the version in the text. In the Sanskrit original there is no touching of the thief; Dhanavatí of her own accord enters into a conversation with him. The advice to expose the child at the king's door is given by the grandmother, after hearing the daughter's dream. The king does not fetch the boy himself, but has him brought. CHAPTER XCIV. (Vetála 20.) Then king Trivikramasena went and took down that Vetála from the asoka-tree, and putting him on his shoulder, started off with him again. And when he had set out in silence, the Vetála spake to him from his shoulder; "King, what is the meaning of this persistency of yours? Go, enjoy the good of the night; it is not fitting that you should carry me to that wicked mendicant. However, if you are obstinately bent on it, so be it; but listen to this one story." Story of the Bráhman boy, who offered himself up to save the life of the king. There is a city called Chitrakúta, [381] rightly so named, where the established divisions of the castes never step across the strict line of demarcation. In it there lived a king, named Chandrávaloka, the crest-jewel of kings, who rained showers of nectar into the eyes of those devoted to him. Wise men praised him as the binding-post of the elephant of valour, the fountain-head of generosity, and the pleasure-pavilion of beauty. There was one supreme sorrow in the heart of that young prince, that, though he enjoyed all kinds of prosperity, he could not obtain a suitable wife. Now, one day, the king, accompanied by mounted attendants, went out to a great forest to hunt, in order to dispel that sorrow. There he cleft with continual shafts the herds of wild swine, as the sun, shining in the dun sky, [382] disperses the darkness with his rays. Surpassing Arjuna in strength, he made the lions, impetuous in fight, and terrible with their yellow manes, repose upon beds of arrows. Like Indra in might, he stripped of their wings [383] the mountain-like Sarabhas, and laid them low with the blows of his darts hard as the thunder-bolt. In the ardour of the chase he felt a longing to penetrate into the centre of the wood alone, so he urged on his horse with a smart blow of his heel. The horse, being exceedingly excited by that blow of his heel, and by a stroke of the whip, cared neither for rough nor smooth, but darting on with a speed exceeding that of the wind, in a moment traversed ten yojanas, and carried the king, the functions of whose senses were quite paralysed, to another forest. There the horse stopped, and the king, having lost his bearings, roamed about wearied, until he saw near him a broad lake, which seemed to make signs to him to approach with its lotuses, that, bent down towards him and then raised again by the wind, seemed like beckoning hands. [384] So he went up to it, and relieved his horse by taking off its saddle and letting it roll, and bathed and watered it, and then tied it up in the shade of a tree, and gave it a heap of grass. Then he bathed himself, and drank water, and so dispelled his fatigue, and then he let his eye wander hither and thither in the delightful environs of the lake. And in one part he saw, at the foot of an asoka-tree, a wonderfully beautiful hermit's daughter, accompanied by her friend. She wore garlands of flowers, and a dress of bark, which became her well. And she looked exceedingly charming on account of the elegant way in which her hair was plaited together after the hermit fashion. And the king, who had now fallen within the range of the arrows of love, said to himself; "Who can this be? Can it be Sávitrí come to bathe in the lake? Or can it be Gaurí, who has slipped away from the arms of Siva, and again betaken herself to asceticism? Or can it be the beauty of the moon that has taken upon herself a vow, as the moon has set, now that it is day? So I had better approach her quietly and find out." Having thus reflected, the king approached that maiden. But when she saw him coming, her eyes were bewildered by his beauty, and her hand relaxed its grasp on the garland of flowers, which she had before begun to weave, and she said to herself; "Who is this that has found his way into such a wood as this? Is he a Siddha or a Vidyádhara? In truth his beauty might satisfy the eyes of the whole world." When these thoughts had passed through her mind, she rose up, and modestly looking askance at him she proceeded to go away, though her legs seemed to want all power of movement. Then the polite and dexterous monarch approached her and said, "Fair one, I do not ask you to welcome and entertain a person seen for the first time, who has come from a distance, and desires no fruit other than that of beholding you; but how is your running away from him to be reconciled with the obligations of hermit life?" When the king said this, the lady's attendant, who was equally dexterous, sat down there, and entertained the king. Then the eager king said to her with an affectionate manner, "Worthy lady, what auspicious family is adorned by this friend of yours? What are the ear-nectar-distilling syllables of her name? And why does she torture in this wilderness, with the discipline appropriate to ascetics, her body, which is soft as a flower?" When her friend heard this speech of the king's, she answered; "This is the maiden daughter of the great hermit Kanva, born to him by Menaká; she has been brought up in the hermitage, and her name is Indívaraprabhá. She has come here to bathe in this lake by permission of her father, and her father's hermitage is at no great distance from this place." When she said this to the king, he was delighted, and he mounted his horse, and set out for the hermitage of the hermit Kanva, with the intention of asking him for that daughter of his. He left his horse outside the hermitage, and then he entered with modest humility its enclosure, which was full of hermits with matted hair, and coats of bark, thus resembling in appearance its trees. And in the middle of it he saw the hermit Kanva surrounded with hermits, delighting the eye with his brightness, like the moon surrounded with planets. So he went up to him, and worshipped him, embracing his feet. The wise hermit entertained him and dispelled his fatigue, and then lost no time in saying to him; "My son Chandrávaloka, listen to the good advice which I am about to give you. You know how all living creatures in the world fear death: so why do you slay without cause these poor deer? The Disposer appointed the weapon of the warrior for the protection of the terrified. So rule your subjects righteously, root up your enemies, and secure fleeting fortune and her gifts by the warlike training of horse, and elephant, and so on. Enjoy the delights of rule, give gifts, diffuse your fame throughout the world, but abandon the vice of hunting, the cruel sport of death. What is the profit of that mischievous hunting, in which slayer, victim, and horse [385] are all equally beside themselves? Have you have not heard what happened to Pándu?" The intelligent king, Chandrávaloka, heard and accepted cheerfully this advice of the hermit Kanva, and then answered him, "Reverend Sir, I have been instructed by you; you have done me a great favour; I renounce hunting, let living creatures be henceforth free from alarm." When the hermit heard that, he said, "I am pleased with you for thus granting security to living creatures; so choose whatever boon you desire." When the hermit said this, the king, who knew his time, said to him, "If you are satisfied with me, then give me your daughter Indívaraprabhá." When the king made this request, the hermit bestowed on him his daughter, who had just returned from bathing, born from an Apsaras, a wife meet for him. Then the wives of the hermits adorned her, and the marriage was solemnized, and king Chandrávaloka mounted his horse and set out thence quickly, taking with him his wife, whom the ascetics followed as far as the limits of the hermitage with gushing tears. And as he went along, the sun, seeing that the action of that day had been prolonged, [386] sat down, as if wearied, on the peak of the mountain of setting. And in course of time appeared the gazelle-eyed nymph of night, overflowing with love, veiling her shape in a violet robe of darkness. Just at that moment the king found on the road an asvattha-tree, on the bank of a lake, the water of which was as transparent as a good man's heart. And seeing that that spot was overshadowed with dense boughs and leaves, and was shady and grassy, he made up his mind that he would pass the night there. Then he dismounted from his horse, and gave it grass and water, and rested on the sandy bank of the lake, and drank water, and cooled himself in the breeze; and then he lay down with that hermit's daughter, under that tree, on a bed of flowers. And at that time the moon arose, and removing the mantle of darkness, seized and kissed the glowing face of the East. And all the quarters of the heaven were free from darkness, and gleamed, embraced and illuminated by the rays of the moon, so that there was no room for pride. [387] And so the beams of the moon entered the interstices in the bower of creepers, and lit up the space round the foot of the tree like jewel-lamps. And the next morning the king left his bed, and after the morning prayer, he made ready to set out with his wife to rejoin his army. And then the moon, that had in the night robbed the cheeks of the lotuses of their beauty, lost its brightness, and slunk, as if in fear, to the hollows of the western mountain; for the sun, fiery-red with anger, as if desirous to slay it, lifted his curved sword in his outstretched fingers. [388] At that moment there suddenly came there a Bráhman demon, black as soot, with hair yellow as the lightning, looking like a thunder-cloud. He had made himself a wreath of entrails; he wore a sacrificial cord of hair; he was gnawing the flesh of a man's head, and drinking blood out of a skull. The monster, terrible with projecting tusks, uttered a horrible loud laugh, and vomiting fire with rage, menaced the king in the following words, "Villain! know that I am a Bráhman demon, Jválámukha by name, and this asvattha-tree my dwelling is not trespassed upon even by gods, but thou hast presumed to occupy and enjoy it with thy wife. So receive from me, returned from my nightly wanderings, the fruit of thy presumption. I, even I, O wicked one, will tear out and devour the heart of thee, whose mind love has overpowered, aye, and I will drink thy blood." When the king heard this dreadful threat, and saw that his wife was terrified, knowing that the monster was invulnerable, he humbly said to him in his terror, "Pardon the sin which I have ignorantly committed against you, for I am a guest come to this your hermitage, imploring your protection. And I will give you what you desire, by bringing a human victim, whose flesh will glut your appetite; so be appeased, and dismiss your anger." When the Bráhman demon heard this speech of the king's, he was pacified, and said to himself, "So be it! That will do." Then he said to the king, "I will overlook the insult you have offered me on the following conditions. You must find a Bráhman boy, who, though seven years old and intelligent, is of so noble a character that he is ready to offer himself for your sake. And his mother and father must place him on the earth, and hold him firmly by the hands and feet, while he is being sacrificed. And when you have found such a human victim, you must yourself slay him with a sword-stroke, and so offer him up to me on the seventh day from this. If you comply with these conditions, well and good; but, if not, king, I will in a moment destroy you and all your court." When the king heard this, in his terror he agreed at once to the conditions proposed, and the Bráhman demon immediately disappeared. Then king Chandrávaloka mounted his horse, and set out with Indívaraprabhá in quest of his army, in a state of the utmost despondency. He said to himself, "Alas! I, bewildered by hunting and love, have suddenly incurred destruction like Pándu; [389] fool that I am! For whence can I obtain for this Rákshasa a victim, such as he has described? So I will go in the meantime to my own town, and see what will happen." While thus reflecting, he met his own army, that had come in search of him, and with that and his wife he entered his city of Chitrakúta. Then the whole kingdom rejoiced, when they saw that he had obtained a suitable wife, but the king passed the rest of the day in suppressed sorrow. The next day he communicated to his ministers in secret all that had taken place, and a discreet minister among them said to him, "Do not be downcast, king, for I will search for and bring you such a victim, for the earth contains many marvels." When the minister had consoled the king in these words, he had made with the utmost rapidity a golden image of a seven-years-old child, and he adorned its ears with jewels, and placed it on a chariot, and had it carried about in the towns, villages, and stations of herdsmen. And while that image of a child was being carried about, the minister had the following proclamation continually made in front of it, with beat of drum; "If a Bráhman boy of seven years old will willingly offer himself to a Bráhman demon for the good of the community, and if his mother and father will permit the brave boy to offer himself, and will hold his hands and feet while he is being slain, the king will give to that boy, who is so eager to benefit his parents as to comply with these conditions, this image of gold and gems, together with a hundred villages." Now it happened that a certain seven-years-old Bráhman boy, living on a royal grant to Bráhmans, who was of great courage and admirable character, heard this proclamation. Even in his childhood this boy had always taken pleasure in benefiting his fellow-men, as he had practised that virtue in a former life; in fact he seemed like the ripe result of the merits of the king's subjects incarnate in bodily form. So he came and said to the men who were making this proclamation, "I will offer myself up for your good; but first, I will go and inform my parents; then I will return to you." When he said this to them, they were delighted, and they let him go. So he went home, and folding his hands in an attitude of supplication, he said to his parents; "I wish to offer for the good of the community this perishable body of mine; so permit me to do so, and put an end to your poverty. For if I do so, the king will give me this image of myself, made of gold and gems, together with a hundred villages, and on receiving them, I will make them over to you. In this way I shall pay my debt to you, and at the same time benefit my fellow-men; and your poverty will be at an end, and you will have many sons to replace me." As soon as he had said this, his parents answered him; "What is this that you say, son? Are you distracted with wind? Or are you planet-struck? Unless you are one of these, how could you talk in this wild way? Who would cause his son's death for the sake of wealth? What child would sacrifice its body?" When the boy heard this speech of his parents, he rejoined; "I do not speak from a disordered intellect; hear my speech, which is full of sense. This body, which is full of indescribable impurities, which is loathsome by its very birth, and the abode of pain, will soon perish [390] anyhow. So wise men say that the only solid and permanent thing in a fleeting universe is that merit which is acquired by means of this very frail and perishable body. [391] And what greater merit can there be than the benefiting of all creatures? So, if I do not show devotion to my parents, what fruit shall I reap from my body?" By this speech and others of the same kind the resolute boy induced his weeping parents to consent to his wish. And he went to the king's servants, and obtained from them that golden image, together with a grant of a hundred villages, and gave them to his parents. Then he made the king's servants precede him, and went quickly, accompanied by his parents, to the king in Chitrakúta. Then king Chandrávaloka, beholding arrived the boy, whose courage [392] was so perfect, and who thus resembled a bright protecting talisman, was exceedingly delighted. So he had him adorned with garlands, and anointed with unguents, and putting him on the back of an elephant, he took him with his parents to the abode of the Bráhman demon. Then the chaplain drew a circle near the asvattha-tree, and performed the requisite rites, and made an oblation to the fire. And then the Bráhman demon Jválámukha appeared, uttering a loud laugh, and reciting the Vedas. His appearance was very terrible; he was drunk with a full draught of blood, yawning, and panting frequently; his eyes blazed, and he darkened the whole horizon with the shadow of his body. Then king Chandrávaloka, beholding him, bent before him, and said; "Adorable one, I have brought you this human sacrifice, and it is now the seventh day, gentle Sir, since I promised it you; so be propitious, receive this sacrifice, as is due." When the king made this request, the Bráhman demon looked at the Bráhman boy, licking the corners of his mouth with his tongue. [393] At that moment the noble boy, in his joy, said to himself, "Let not the merit, which I acquire by this sacrifice of my body, gain for me heaven, or even a salvation which involves no benefits to others, but may I be privileged to offer up my body for the benefit of others in birth after birth!" While he was forming this aspiration, the heaven was suddenly filled with the chariots of the heavenly host, who rained flowers. Then the boy was placed in front of the Bráhman demon, and his mother took hold of his hands and his father of his feet. Then the king drew his sword, and prepared to slay him; but at that moment the child laughed so loudly, that all there, the Bráhman demon included, abandoned the occupation in which they were engaged, and in their astonishment put their palms together, and bowing, looked at his face. When the Vetála had told this entertaining and romantic tale, he once more put a question to king Trivikramasena; "So tell me, king, what was the reason that the boy laughed in such an awful moment as that of his own death? I feel great curiosity to know it, so, if you know, and do not tell me, your head shall split into a hundred pieces." When the king heard this from the Vetála, he answered him, "Hear what was the meaning of that child's laugh. It is well known that a weak creature, when danger comes upon it, calls upon its father or mother to save its life. And if its father and mother be gone, it invokes the protection of the king who is appointed to succour the afflicted, and if it cannot obtain the aid of the king, it calls upon the deity under whose special protection it is. Now, in the case of that child, all those were present, and all behaved in exactly the opposite manner to what might have been expected of them. The child's parents held its hands and feet out of greed of gain, and the king was eager to slay it, to save his own life, and the Bráhman demon, its protecting deity, was ready to devour it. The child said to itself; 'To think that these should be thus deluded, being led so much astray for the sake of the body, which is perishable, loathsome within, and full of pain and disease. Why should they have such a strange longing for the continuance of the body, in a world in which Brahmá, Indra, Vishnu, Siva, and the other gods must certainly perish.' Accordingly the Bráhman boy laughed out of joy and wonder, joy at feeling that he had accomplished his object, and wonder at beholding the marvellous strangeness of their delusion." When the king had said this, he ceased, and the Vetála immediately left his shoulder, and went back to his own place, disappearing by his magic power. But the king, without hesitating for a moment, rapidly pursued him; the hearts of great men, as of great seas, are firm and unshaken. NOTE. Oesterley (p. 210) tells us that a boy is in the same way sold to a king as a victim in the 32nd tale of the Turkish collection of tales, called "The Forty Viziers." When the king is about to rip up the child's body, the child laughs for the same reason as in our text. The cause of the sacrifice is however different. The king is to be healed by placing his feet in the body of a boy. The promise of a golden image to any one who is willing to sacrifice his life is also found in the Bengali edition of the Sinhásana-dvátrinsati. A rich man makes a golden image, with an inscription on it to the effect that whoever is willing to sacrifice his life shall have it. Vikramáditya goes to the place disguised, and cuts off his head, but the goddess heals him, (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 109.) CHAPTER XCV. (Vetála 21.) Then king Trivikramasena again went and took the Vetála from the asoka-tree, and carried him along on his shoulder. And as he was going along, the Vetála again said to the king, "Listen, king, I will tell you a story of violent attachment." Story of Anangamanjarí, her husband Manivarman, and the Bráhman Kamalákara. There is a city called Visálá, which is like a second city of Indra, made by the Creator on earth, for the sake of virtuous people who have fallen from heaven. In it there lived a fortunate king, named Padmanábha, who was a source of joy to good men, and excelled king Bali. In the reign of that king there lived in that city a great merchant, named Arthadatta, who surpassed in opulence the god of wealth. And to him there was born a daughter named Anangamanjarí, who was exhibited on earth by the Creator as a likeness of a heavenly nymph. And that merchant gave her to the son of a distinguished merchant, dwelling in Támraliptí, and named Manivarman. But as he was very fond of his daughter Anangamanjarí, because she was his only child, he would not let her leave his house, but kept her there with her husband. But Anangamanjarí's husband Manivarman was as distasteful to her, as a biting bitter medicine to a sick man. But that lovely one was dearer than life to her husband, as wealth hardly won and long hoarded is to a miser. Now once on a time that Manivarman, longing to see his parents, went to his home in Támraliptí to visit them. After some days had passed, the hot season descended upon the land, impeding the journey of men absent from home with the sharp shafts of the sun's rays. The winds blew laden with the fragrance of the jasmine and trumpet-flower, and seemed like the hot [394] sighs of the cardinal points on account of the departure of spring. Lines of dust raised by the wind flew up to heaven, like messengers sent by the heated earth to hasten the approach of the clouds. The days passed slowly, like travellers exhausted by the severe heat, and longing for the shade of the trees. The nights, pale-gleaming with moonbeams, became exceedingly [395] reduced owing to the loss of the spring with all its happy meetings. One day in that season, that merchant's daughter Anangamanjarí was sitting with her intimate friend in a lofty window of her house, white with sandal-wood ointment, and elegantly dressed in a thin garment of silk. While there, she saw a young Bráhman, named Kamalákara, the son of the king's chaplain, passing by, and he looked like the god of Love, risen from his ashes, going to find Rati. And when Kamalákara saw that lovely one overhead, like the orb of the moon, [396] he was full of joy, and became like a cluster of kumuda-flowers. The sight of those two young persons became to one another, by the mighty command of Cupid, a priceless [397] fascination of the mind. And the two were overcome by passion, which rooted up their modesty and carried away by a storm of love-frenzy, which flung their minds to a distance. And Kamalákara's companion, as soon as he saw that his friend was love-smitten, dragged him off, though with difficulty, to his own house. As for Anangamanjarí, she enquired what his name was, and having no will of her own, slowly entered the house with that confidante of hers. There she was grievously afflicted with the fever of love, and thinking on her beloved, she rolled on the bed, and neither saw nor heard anything. After two or three days had passed, being ashamed and afraid, unable to bear the misery of separation, thin and pale, and despairing of union with her beloved, which seemed a thing impossible, she determined on suicide. So, one night, when her attendants were asleep, she went out, drawn as it were, by the moon, which sent its rays through the window, like fingers, and made for a tank at the foot of a tree in her own garden. There she approached an image of the goddess Chandí, her family deity, that had been set up with much magnificence by her father, and she bowed before the goddess, and praised her, and said, "Though I have not obtained Kamalákara for a husband in this life, let him be my husband in a future birth!" When the impassioned woman had uttered these words in front of the goddess, she made a noose with her upper garment, and fastened it to an asoka-tree. In the meanwhile it happened that her confidante, who was sleeping in the same room, woke up, and not seeing her there, went to the garden to look for her. And seeing her there engaged in fastening a noose round her neck, she cried out, "Stop! stop!" and running up, she cut that noose which she had made. Anangamanjarí, when she saw that her confidante had come and cut the noose, fell on the ground in a state of great affliction. Her confidante comforted her, and asked her the cause of her grief, and she at once told her, and went on to say to her, "So you see, friend Málatiká, as I am under the authority of my parents and so on, and have little chance of being united to my beloved, death is my highest happiness." While Anangamanjarí was saying these words, she was exceedingly tortured with the fire of Love's arrows, and being overpowered with despair, she fainted away. Her friend Málatiká exclaimed, "Alas! the command of Cupid is hard to resist, since it has reduced to this state this friend of mine, who was always laughing at other misguided women, who shewed a want of self-restraint. [398]" Lamenting in these words, she slowly brought Anangamanjarí round with cold water, fanning, and so on, and in order to allay her heat, she made her a bed of lotus-leaves, and placed on her heart a necklace cool as snow. Then Anangamanjarí, with her eyes gushing with tears, said to her friend, "Friend, the necklace and the other applications do not allay my internal heat. But do you by your cleverness accomplish something which will really allay it. Unite me to my beloved, if you wish to preserve my life." When she said this, Málatiká lovingly answered her, "My friend, the night is now almost at an end, but to-morrow I will make an arrangement with your beloved, and bring him to this very place. So in the meanwhile control yourself, and enter your house." When she said this, Anangamanjarí was pleased, and drawing the necklace from her neck, she gave it to her as a present. And she said to her, "Now go to your house, and early to-morrow go thence to the house of my beloved, and may you prosper!" Having dismissed her confidante in these words, she entered her own apartments. And early next morning, her friend Málatiká went, without being seen by any one, to the house of Kamalákara; and searching about in the garden, she saw him at the foot of a tree. He was rolling about, burning with the fire of love, on a bed composed of lotus-leaves moistened with sandal-wood juice, and a confidential friend of his was trying to give him relief by fanning him with a plantain-leaf. She said to herself, "Is it possible that he has been reduced to this stage of love's malady by separation from her?" So she remained there in concealment, to find out the truth about it. In the meanwhile that friend of Kamalákara's said to him, "Cast your eye, my friend, for a moment round this delightful garden, and cheer up your heart. Do not give way to despondency." When the young Bráhman heard this, he answered his friend, "My friend, my heart has been taken from me by Anangamanjarí the merchant's daughter, and my breast left empty; so how can I cheer up my heart. Moreover Love, finding me robbed of my heart, has made me a quiver for his arrows; so enable me to get hold of that girl, who stole it." When the young Bráhman said that, Málatiká's doubts were removed, and she was delighted, and showed herself, and went up to him, and said, "Happy man, Anangamanjarí has sent me to you, and I hereby give you her message, the meaning of which is clear, 'What sort of conduct is this for a virtuous man, to enter a fair one's bosom by force, and after stealing away her heart, to go off without showing himself.' It is strange too, that though you have stolen the lady's heart, she now wishes to surrender to you herself and her life. For day and night she furnaces forth from her hot sighs, which appear like smoke rising from the fire of love in her burning heart. And her tear-drops, black with collyrium, fall frequently, looking like bees attracted by the fragrance of her lotus-like face. So if you like, I will say what will be for the good of both of you." When Málatiká said this, Kamalákara answered her, "My good lady, this speech of yours, though it comforts me by shewing that my beloved loves me, terrifies me, as it tells that the fair one is in a state of unhappiness. So you are our only refuge in this matter; do as you think best." When Kamalákara said this, Málatiká answered, "I will to-night bring Anangamanjarí secretly into the garden belonging to her house, and you must take care to be outside. Then I will manage by some device of mine to let you in, and so you will be able to see one another in accordance with your wishes." When Málatiká had by these words delighted the young Bráhman, she went away, having accomplished her object, and delighted Anangamanjarí also. Then the sun, in love with the twilight, departed somewhere or other, together with the day, and the heaven adorned itself, placing the moon on its western quarter, like a patch on the forehead. And the pure white kumuda-cluster laughed joyously with the cheerful faces of its opened flowers, as if to say, "Fortune has left the lotus-cluster and come to me." Thereupon the lover Kamalákara also adorned himself, and full of impatience, slowly approached the outside of the door that led into the garden of Anangamanjarí's house. Then Málatiká managed to bring into that garden Anangamanjarí, who had with difficulty got through the day. And she made her sit in the middle of it, in a bower of mango-trees, and went out, and brought in Kamalákara also. And when he entered, he beheld Anangamanjarí in the midst of dense-foliaged trees, as gladly as the traveller beholds the shade. While he was advancing towards her, she saw him, and as the violence of her passion robbed her of shame, she eagerly ran forward, and threw her arms round his neck. She faltered out, "Where are you going? I have caught you," and immediately her breath was stopped by the weight of excessive joy, and she died. And she fell on the ground, like a creeper broken by the wind. Alas! strange is the course of love, that is terrible in its consequences. When Kamalákara beheld that misfortune, which was terrible as a thunder-stroke, he said, "Alas! what is this?" and fell senseless on the ground. In a moment he recovered consciousness; and then he took his beloved up in his arms, and embraced and kissed her, and lamented much. And then he was so violently oppressed by excessive weight of sorrow, that his heart burst asunder at once, with a crack. And when Málatiká was lamenting over their corpses, the night, seeing that both these lovers had met their end, came to an end, as if out of grief. And the next day, the relations of both, hearing from the gardeners what had happened, came there distracted with shame, wonder, grief, and bewilderment. And they remained for a long time doubtful what to do, with faces downcast from distress; bad women are a grievous affliction, and a source of calamity to their family. At this moment Manivarman, the husband of Anangamanjarí, came, full of longing to see her, from his father's house in Támraliptí. When he reached his father-in-law's house, and heard what had taken place, he came running to that garden, with his eyes blinded with tears. There, beholding his wife lying dead by the side of another man, the passionate man at once yielded up his breath, that was heated with the fire of grief. Then the people there began to cry out, and to make an uproar, and all the citizens heard what had taken place, and came there in a state of astonishment. Then the goddess Chandí, who was close at hand, having been called down into that garden long ago by the father of Anangamanjarí, was thus supplicated by her Ganas; "Goddess, this merchant Arthadatta, who has established an image of thee in his garden, has always been devoted to thee, so have mercy upon him in this his affliction." When the beloved of Siva, the refuge of the distressed, heard this prayer of her Ganas, she gave command that the three should return to life, free from passion. So they all, by her favour, immediately arose, as if awaking from sleep, free from the passion of love. Then all the people were full of joy, beholding that marvel; and Kamalákara went home, with his face downcast from shame; and Arthadatta, having recovered his daughter [399] Anangamanjarí, who looked thoroughly ashamed of herself, together with her husband, returned to his house in high spirits. When the Vetála had told this story that night on the way, he again put a question to king Trivikramasena. He said, "King, tell me, which of those three, who were blinded by passion, was the most infatuated? And remember, the curse before-mentioned will take effect, if you know and do not say." When the king heard this question of the Vetála's, he answered him, "It seems to me that Manivarman was the most infatuated with passion of the three. For one can understand those two dying, as they were desperately in love with one another, and their amorous condition had been fully developed by lapse of time. But Manivarman was terribly infatuated, for when he saw his wife dead of love for another man, and the occasion called for indignation, he was so far from being angry that, in his great love, he died of grief." When the king had said this, the mighty Vetála again left his shoulder, and departed to his own place, and the king again went in pursuit of him. NOTE. Oesterley, page 217, gives a story which resembles this in its conclusion. A king finds a girl being carried off by robbers. He delivers her and places her in a temple, promising to bring her food. But on his way he meets a kuttiní, who conducts him to another girl, with whom he falls desperately in love, and so forgets the girl he rescued. She is found by a merchant. He takes her to his house and sets food before her. He then kills a rat, and boasts of his valour; (see page 16 of this volume.) This conduct, contrasted with that of the king, makes the girl die of disgust. The merchant kills himself. The king, not finding the first girl where he left her, commits suicide. The kuttiní considers that she has caused the death of three persons, and kills herself in a fit of remorse. The Vetála asks, "Which of these four deaths was the most extraordinary?" The king answers, "That of the kuttiní, for the others died of excess of passion." CHAPTER XCVI. (Vetála 22.) Then king Trivikramasena again fetched the Vetála from the top of the asoka-tree, and put him on his shoulder, and as he was going along, the Vetála said to him on the way, "King, you are good and brave, so hear this matchless tale." Story of the four Bráhman brothers who resuscitated the tiger. There lived once on the earth a king, named Dharanívaráha, who was lord of the town of Pátaliputra. [400] In his realm, which abounded in Bráhmans, there was a royal grant to Bráhmans named Brahmasthala; and on it there lived a Bráhman of the name of Vishnusvámin. He had a wife that was as well-suited to him as the oblation to the fire. And in course of time he had four sons by her. And when they had learnt the Vedas, and passed their childhood, Vishnusvámin went to heaven, and his wife followed him. Then all his sons there, being in a miserable state, as they had no protectors, and having had all their property taken from them by their relations, deliberated together, and said, "We have no means of support here, so why should we not go hence to the house of our maternal grandfather in the village named Yajnasthala?" Having determined on this, they set out, living on alms, and after many days they reached the house of their maternal grandfather. Their grandfather was dead, but their mother's brothers gave them shelter and food, and they lived in their house, engaged in reading the Vedas. But after a time, as they were paupers, their uncles came to despise them, and neglected to supply them with food, clothes, and other necessaries. Then their hearts were wounded by the manifest contempt shewn for them by their relations, and they brooded over it in secret, and then the eldest brother said to the rest; "Well! brothers, what are we to do? Destiny performs every thing, no man can do anything in this world at any place or time. For to-day, as I was wandering about in a state of distraction, I reached a cemetery; and in it I saw a man lying dead upon the ground, with all his limbs relaxed. And when I saw him, I envied his state, and I said to myself; 'Fortunate is this man, who is thus at rest, having got rid of his burden of grief.' Such was the reflection that then occurred to me; so I determined to die: and I tried to hang myself by means of a rope fastened to the branch of a tree. I became unconscious, but my breath did not leave my body; and while I was in this state, the rope broke, and I fell to the earth. And as soon as I recovered consciousness, I saw that some compassionate man was fanning me with his garment. He said to me, 'Friend, say, why do you allow yourself to be thus afflicted, though you are wise? For joy springs from good deeds, and pain from evil deeds, these are their only sources. If your agitation is due to pain, then perform good deeds; how can you be so foolish as to desire to incur the pains of hell by suicide?' With these words that man consoled me, and then departed somewhere or other, but I have come here, having abandoned my design of committing suicide. So, you see that, if Destiny is adverse, it is not even possible to die. Now I intend to go to some holy water, and there consume my body with austerities, in order that I may never again endure the misery of poverty." When the eldest brother said this, his younger brothers said to him, "Sir, why are you, though wise, afflicted with pain merely because you are poor? Do you not know that riches pass away like an autumn cloud. Who can ever count on retaining Fortune or a fickle woman, though he carry them off and guard them carefully, for both are insincere in their affection and secretly hostile to their possessor? So a wise man must acquire by vigorous exertion some eminent accomplishment, which will enable him frequently to bind [401] and lead home by force riches which are like bounding deer." When the eldest brother was addressed in this language by his brothers, he at once recovered his self-control, and said, "What accomplishment of this kind should we acquire?" Then they all considered and said to one another, "We will search through the earth and acquire some magic power." So having adopted this resolution, and fixed upon a trysting-place at which to meet, the four separated, going east, west, north and south. And in course of time they met again at the appointed spot, and asked one another what each had learned. Then one of them said, "I have learned this magic secret; if I find a bit of a bone of any animal, I can immediately produce on it the flesh of that animal." When the second heard this speech of his brother's, he said, "When the flesh of any animal has been superinduced upon a piece of bone, I know how to produce the skin and hair appropriate to that animal." Then the third said, "And when the hair and flesh and skin have been produced, I am able to create the limbs of the animal to which the bone belonged." And the fourth said, "When the animal has its limbs properly developed, I know how to endow it with life." When they had said this to one another, the four brothers went into the forest to find a piece of bone, on which to display their skill. There it happened that they found a piece of a lion's bone, and they took it up without knowing to what animal it belonged. Then the first covered it with the appropriate flesh, and the second in the same way produced on it all the requisite skin and hair, and the third completed the animal by giving it all its appropriate limbs, and it became a lion, and then the fourth endowed it with life. Then it rose up a very terrible lion, furnished with a dense shaggy mane, having a mouth formidable with teeth, [402] and with hooked claws at the end of its paws. And charging the four authors of its being, it slew them on the spot, and then retired glutted to the forest. So those Bráhmans perished by making the fatal mistake of creating a lion: for who can give joy to his own soul by raising up a noisome beast? So, if Fate be not propitious, an accomplishment, though painfully acquired, not only does not bring prosperity, but actually brings destruction. For the tree of valour only bears fruit, as a general rule, when the root, being uninjured, [403] is watered with the water of wisdom, and when it is surrounded with the trench of policy. When the Vetála, sitting on the shoulder of the king, had told this tale on the way, that night, to king Trivikramasena, he went on to say to him, "King, which of these four was guilty in respect of the production of the lion, that slew them all? Tell me quickly, and remember that the old condition is still binding on you." When the king heard the Vetála say this, he said to himself, "This demon wishes me to break silence, and so to escape from me. Never mind, I will go and fetch him again." Having formed this resolution in his heart, he answered that Vetála, "That one among them, who gave life to the lion, is the guilty one. For they produced the flesh, the skin, the hair, and the limbs, by magic power, without knowing what kind of animal they were making: and therefore no guilt attaches to them on account of their ignorance. But the man, who, when he saw that the animal had a lion's shape, gave life to it, in order to display his skill, was guilty of the death of those Bráhmans." When the mighty Vetála heard this speech of the king's, he again left his shoulder by magic power and went back to his own place, and the king again went in pursuit of him. NOTE. The story, as given in the Panchatantra (Benfey, Vol. II, p. 332), is somewhat different. Here we have four brothers of whom three possess all knowledge, but one only possesses common sense. The first brother joins together the bones of the lion, the second covers them with skin, flesh, and blood, the third is about to give the animal life, when the brother, who possesses common sense, says "If you raise him to life, he will kill us all." Finding that the third brother will not desist from his intention, he climbs up a tree and so saves his life, while his three brothers are torn to pieces. In the Bahar-Danush (Scott) Vol. II, p. 290, the bones of a cow are joined together by being sprinkled with water. See Benfey, Vol. I, p. 489. (Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, pp. 211-212.) CHAPTER XCVII. (Vetála 23.) Then the noble king Trivikramasena went back, and again took down that Vetála from the asoka-tree, and though the Vetála transformed himself in all possible ways, he put him on his shoulder and started off with him in silence, and then the Vetála said to him, "King, though the business in which you are engaged is not becoming to you, you exhibit in it undaunted perseverance; so listen, I will tell you a tale to dispel your fatigue." Story of the Hermit who first wept and then danced. There is in the land of Kalinga a city named Sobhávatí, like the city of Indra in heaven, the abode of those that act aright. It was ruled by a king named Pradyumna, whose sway was mighty, and who, like the god Pradyumna, was celebrated for his exceeding power and valour. The only detraction heard in his realm was that of the string from the bow, the only pressure that of the fingers on the cymbal, vice was only known in the name of the age, [404] and keenness only in the pursuit of knowledge. In a certain part of that town there was a grant named Yajnasthala, given by that king, on which many Bráhmans were settled. There lived on it a very wealthy Bráhman who had mastered the Vedas, whose name was Yajnasoma. He maintained a sacrificial fire, and honoured guests, and the gods. After his youth was past, there was born to him by his wife, who was in every way a suitable match for him, an only son, the child of a hundred wishes. And that promising boy grew up in his father's house, and the Bráhmans duly named him Devasoma. And when he had attained the age of sixteen years, that boy, who captivated all by his knowledge, modesty, and other good qualities, suddenly died of a fever. Then Yajnasoma, together with his wife, remained lovingly embracing that dead boy, and lamenting over him, and refused for a long time to let him be taken away to be burnt. Then the old men assembled and reproved that Bráhman in the following words, "Bráhman, are you not aware, though you know what is near and far, that the condition of this Fata Morgana of a world is frail as a bubble on water? Look at those kings who filled the earth with their armies, and enjoyed themselves in this world, deeming themselves immortal, lying on jewelled couches on the delightful summits of palaces, that resounded with the warbling of music, having their bodies anointed with sandal-wood ointment and other fragrant unguents, and begirt with beautiful women. Even these no one could save from being consumed by flesh-devouring flames, lying alone on the funeral pyre in the cemetery whither the dead are followed by weeping friends, and when their extremities had been shrivelled, from being at last devoured by the jackals: much less can any others escape this fate. So tell us, wise man, what mean you by embracing that corpse?" Many other speeches of this kind did they address to him. At last with difficulty his relations got him to stop clinging to his dead son, and then, after the body had been laid out, they put it on a bier, and with loud lamentations carried it to the burning-place, accompanied by many people who shed tears on account of the calamity. Now at that time there was dwelling in that cemetery an old Pásupata ascetic possessing supernatural power, who lived in a hut. His name was Vámasiva. His body was emaciated with age and excessive asceticism, and bound round with veins, as if for fear that it would break. He was covered all over with hair white with ashes, his matted locks were yellow as lightning, and he looked like a second Siva. When that hermit heard in the distance the lamentation of those people outside his hut, he said to the pupil that lived with him, "Rise up! go and find out the meaning of this confused noise outside in the cemetery, such as I never heard before, and come back quickly, and tell me." Now this pupil was one who had taken a vow of living on the products of begging; he was a fool, and a rogue, and an egoist, puffed up with contemplation, magical powers, and other things of the kind, and at this time he was annoyed because his teacher had rebuked him. So, when his teacher gave him this order, he answered him, "I will not go; go yourself, for my time for begging is fast slipping away." When the teacher heard that, he said, "Out on you, fool, devoted to your belly! Only half one watch of the day has passed: how can it be your time for begging now?" When the wicked pupil heard that, he was angry, and said to his teacher; "Out on you, you decrepit old creature! I am no longer your pupil, and you are no longer my teacher. I will go elsewhere, carry this vessel yourself." When he had said this, he put down in front of him his stick and water-vessel, and got up and went away. Then the hermit left his hut, laughing as he went, and came to the place where the young Bráhman had been brought to be burned. And when the hermit saw him, with the people lamenting for the flower of his youth, being afflicted with old age, and possessed of magical powers, he determined to enter his body. So he quickly went aside, and first wept aloud, and immediately afterwards he danced with appropriate gesticulations. [405] Then the ascetic, longing to be young again, abandoned his own body, and at once entered by magic power that young Bráhman's body. And immediately the young Bráhman on the pyre, which was ready prepared, returned to life, and rose up with a yawn. When his relations and all the people saw that, they raised a loud shout of "Hurrah! he is alive! he is alive!" Then that ascetic, who was a mighty sorcerer, and had thus entered the young Bráhman's body, not intending to abandon his vow, told them all the following falsehood; "Just now, when I went to the other world, Siva himself restored my life to me, telling me that I must take upon me the vow of a Pásupata ascetic. And I must this moment go into a solitary place and support this vow, otherwise I cannot live, so depart you, and I also will depart." Saying this to all those present, the resolute votary, bewildered with mixed feelings of joy and grief, dismissed them to their own homes. And he himself went, and threw that former body of his into a ravine; and so that great magician, who had taken the vow, having become young, went away to another place. When the Vetála had told this story that night on the way, he again said to king Trivikramasena, "Tell me, king, why did that mighty magician, when entering another body, first weep, and then dance? I have a great desire to know this." When that king, who was a chief of sages, heard this question of the Vetála's, fearing the curse, he broke silence, and gave him this answer, "Hear what the feelings of that ascetic were. He was grieved because he thought that he was just going to abandon that body, which had grown up with him through many years, by living in which he had acquired magic power, and which his parents had fondled, when he was a child, so he wept violently; for affection for one's body is a deeply rooted feeling. But he danced for joy, because he thought that he was about to enter a new body, and that by means of that he would acquire greater magic power; for to whom is not youth pleasing." When the Vetála, who was inside that corpse, heard this speech of the king's, he left his shoulder and went back to that asoka-tree; but that exceedingly undaunted monarch again ran after him, to recover him; for the resolution of determined men surpasses in firmness the mighty mountains, and remains unshaken even at the end of a kalpa. CHAPTER XCVIII. (Vetála 24.) Then the brave king Trivikramasena, disregarding the awful night, which in that terrible cemetery assumed the appearance of a Rákshasí, being black with darkness, and having the flames of the funeral pyres for fiery eyes, again went to the asoka-tree, and took from it the Vetála, and put him on his shoulder. And while he was going along with him, as before, the Vetála again said to that king, "O king, I am tired out with going backwards and forwards, though you are not: so I will put to you one difficult question, and mind you listen to me." Story of the father that married the daughter and the son that married the mother. There was in the Dekkan a king of a small province, who was named Dharma; he was the chief of virtuous men, but he had many relations who aspired to supplant him. He had a wife named Chandravatí, who came from the land of Málava; she was of high lineage, and the most virtuous of women. And that king had born to him by that wife one daughter, who was not without cause named Lávanyavatí. [406] And when that daughter had attained a marriageable age, king Dharma was ejected from his throne by his relations, who banded together and divided his realm. Then he fled from his kingdom at night with his wife and that daughter, taking with him a large number of valuable jewels, and he deliberately set out for Málava the dwelling-place of his father-in-law. And in the course of that same night he reached the Vindhya forest with his wife and daughter. And when he entered it, the night, that had escorted him thus far, took leave of him with drops of dew by way of tears. And the sun ascended the eastern mountain, stretching forth its first rays, like a warning hand, to dissuade him from entering that brigand-haunted wood. Then he travelled on through it with his wife and daughter, having his feet wounded with sharp points of kusa-grass, and he reached a village of the Bhillas. It was full of men that robbed their neighbours of life and property, and shunned by the virtuous, like the strong city of Death. Then beholding the king from a distance with his dress and ornaments, many Savaras, armed with various weapons, ran to plunder him. When king Dharma saw that, he said to his daughter and wife, "The barbarians will seize on you first, so enter the wood in this direction." When the king said this to them, queen Chandravatí and her daughter Lávanyavatí, in their terror, plunged into the middle of the wood. And the brave king, armed with sword and shield, killed many of the Savaras, who came towards him, raining arrows. Then the chief summoned the whole village, and falling on the king, who stood there alone, they slashed his shield to pieces and killed him; and then the host of bandits departed with his ornaments. And queen Chandravatí, concealed in a thicket of the wood, saw from a distance her husband slain: so in her bewilderment she fled with her daughter, and they entered another dense forest a long distance off. There they found that the shadows of the trees, afflicted by the heat of midday, had laid themselves at their cool roots, imitating travellers. So, tired and sad, the queen sat down weeping with her daughter, in a spot on the bank of a lotus-lake, under the shade of an asoka-tree. In the meanwhile a chief, who lived near, came to that forest on horseback, with his son, to hunt. He was named Chandasinha, and when he saw their footsteps imprinted in the dust, he said to his son Sinhaparákrama, "We will follow up these lovely and auspicious tracks, and if we find the ladies to whom they belong, you shall choose whichever you please of them." When Chandasinha said this, his son Sinhaparákrama said to him, "I should like to have for a wife the one that has these small feet, for I know that she will be young and suited to me. But this one with large feet, being older than the other, will just suit you. When Chandasinha heard this speech of his son's, he said to him, "What is this that you say? Your mother has only recently gone to heaven, and now that I have lost so good a wife, how can I desire another?" When Chandasinha's son heard that, he said to him, "Father, do not say so, for the home of a householder is empty without a wife. Moreover, have you not heard the stanza composed by Múladeva? 'Who, that is not a fool, enters that house in which there is no shapely love eagerly awaiting his return, which, though called a house, is really a prison without chains.' So, father, my death will lie at your door, if you do not take as your wife that companion of the lady whom I have chosen." When Chandasinha heard this speech of his son's, he approved it, and went on slowly with him, tracking up their footsteps. And he reached that spot near the lake, and saw that dark queen Chandravatí, adorned with many strings of pearls, sitting in the shade of a tree. She looked like the midnight sky in the middle of the day, and her daughter Lávanyavatí, like the pure white moonlight, seemed to illumine her. And he and his son eagerly approached her, and she, when she saw him, rose up terrified, thinking that he was a bandit. But the queen's daughter said to her, "Mother, do not be afraid, these are not bandits, these two gentle-looking well-dressed persons are certainly some nobles come here to hunt." However the queen still continued to hesitate; and then Chandasinha got down from his horse and said to the two ladies, "Do not be alarmed; we have come here to see you out of love; so take confidence [407] and tell us fearlessly who you are, since you seem like Rati and Príti fled to this wood in sorrow at Cupid's having been consumed by the flames of Siva's fiery eye. And how did you two come to enter this unpeopled wood? For these forms of yours are fitted to dwell in a gem-adorned palace. And our minds are tortured to think how your feet, that deserve to be supported by the lap of beautiful women, can have traversed this ground full of thorns. And, strange to say, the dust raised by the wind, falling on your faces, makes our faces lose their brightness from despondency. [408] And the furious heat of the beams of the fierce-rayed sun, as it plays on your flower-soft bodies, burns us. So tell us your story; for our hearts are afflicted; we cannot bear to see you thus abiding in a forest full of wild beasts." When Chandasinha said this, the queen sighed, and full of shame and grief, slowly told him her story. Then Chandasinha, seeing that she had no protector, comforted her and her daughter, and coaxed them with kind words into becoming members of his family. And he and his son put the queen and her daughter on their horses, and conducted them to their rich palace in Vittapapurí. And the queen, being helpless, submitted to his will, as if she had been born again in a second life. What is an unprotected woman, fallen into calamity in a foreign land, to do? Then Sinhaparákrama, the son of Chandasinha, made Chandravatí his wife, on account of the smallness of her feet. And Chandasinha made her daughter, the princess Lávanyavatí, his wife, on account of the largeness of her feet. For they made this agreement originally, when they saw the two tracks of the small footsteps and the large footsteps: and who ever swerves from his plighted word? So, from the mistake about the feet, the daughter became the wife of the father, and the mother the wife of the son, and so the daughter became the mother-in-law of her own mother, and the mother became the daughter-in-law of her own daughter. And in course of time, both of them had by those husbands sons and daughters, and they also had sons and daughters in due course of time. So Chandasinha and Sinhaparákrama lived in their city, having obtained as wives Lávanyavatí and Chandravatí. When the Vetála had told this story on the way at night, he again put a question to king Trivikramasena; "Now, king, about the children who were in course of time born to the mother and daughter by the son and the father in those two lines--what relationship did they bear to one another? Tell me if you know. And the curse before threatened will descend on you, if you know and do not tell." When the king heard this question of the Vetála's, he turned the matter over and over again in his mind, but he could not find out, so he went on his way in silence. Then the Vetála in the dead man's body, perched on the top of his shoulder, laughed to himself, and reflected; "Ha! Ha! The king does not know how to answer this puzzling question, so he is glad, and silently goes on his way with very nimble feet. Now I cannot manage to deceive this treasure-house of valour any further; [409] and this is not enough to make that mendicant stop playing tricks with me. So I will now deceive that villain, and by an artifice bestow the success, which he has earned, upon this king, whom a glorious future awaits." When the Vetála had gone through these reflections, he said to the king, "King, though you have been worried with so many journeys to and fro in this cemetery terrible with black night, you seem quite happy, and you do not shew the least irresolution. I am pleased with this wonderful courage that you shew. [410] So now carry off this body, for I am going out of it; and listen to this advice which I give you for your welfare, and act on it. That wicked mendicant, for whom you have fetched this human corpse, will immediately summon me into it, and honour me. And wishing to offer you up as a victim, the rascal will say to you, 'King, prostrate yourself on the ground in such a way that eight limbs will touch it.' Then, great king, you must say to that ascetic, [411] 'Shew me first how to do it, and then I will do exactly as you do.' Then he will fling himself on the ground, and shew you how to perform the prostration, and that moment you must cut off his head with the sword. Then you will obtain that prize which he desires, the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas; enjoy this earth by sacrificing him! But otherwise that mendicant will offer you up as a victim; it was to prevent this that I threw obstacles in your way for such a long time here. So depart; may you prosper!" When the Vetála had said this, he went out of that human corpse, that was on the king's shoulder. Then the king was led by the speech of the Vetála, who was pleased with him, to look upon the ascetic Kshántisíla as his enemy, but he went to him in high spirits, where he sat under that banyan-tree, and took with him that human corpse. CHAPTER XCIX. (Vetála 25.) Then king Trivikramasena came up to that mendicant Kshántisíla, carrying that corpse on his shoulder. And he saw that ascetic, alone at the foot of a tree, in the cemetery that was terrible with a night of the black fortnight, eagerly awaiting his arrival. He was in a circle made with the yellow powder of bones, the ground within which was smeared with blood, and which had pitchers full of blood placed in the direction of the cardinal points. [412] It was richly illuminated with candles of human fat, [413] and near it was a fire fed with oblations, it was full of all the necessary preparations for a sacrifice, and in it the ascetic was engaged in worshipping his favourite deity. So the king came up to him, and the mendicant, seeing that he had brought the corpse, rose up delighted, and said, praising him; "Great king, you have conferred on me a favour difficult to accomplish. To think that one like you should undertake this enterprise in such a place and at such a time! Indeed they say with truth that you are the best of all noble kings, being a man of unbending courage, [414] since you forward the interests of another with such utter disregard of self. And wise men say that the greatness of great ones consists in this very thing, that they swerve not from what they have engaged to do, even though their lives are in danger." With these words the mendicant, thinking he had gained his end, took the corpse down from the shoulder of that king. And he bathed it, and anointed it, and threw a garland round it, and placed it within that circle. And he smeared his limbs with ashes, and put on a sacrificial thread of hair, and clothed himself in the garments of the dead, and thus equipped he continued for a time in meditation. Then the mendicant summoned that mighty Vetála by the power of spells, and made him enter the corpse; and proceeded to worship him. He offered to him an argha of white human teeth in a skull by way of an argha-vessel; and he presented to him flowers and fragrant unguents; and he gratified him with the savoury reek of human eyes, [415] and made an offering to him of human flesh. And when he had finished his worship, he said to the king, who was at his side, "King, fall on the ground, and do obeisance with all your eight limbs to this high sovereign of spells who has appeared here, in order that this bestower of boons may grant you the accomplishment of your heart's desire." When the king heard that, he called to mind the words of the Vetála, and said to the mendicant, "I do not know how to do it, reverend sir; do you shew me first, and then I will do exactly as you." Then the mendicant threw himself on the ground, to shew the king what he was to do, and then the king cut off his head with a stroke of his sword. And he tore and dragged [416] the lotus of his heart out of his inside, and offered his heart and head as two lotuses to that Vetála. Then the delighted hosts of goblins uttered shouts of applause on every side, and the Vetála said to the king from inside the corpse, "King, the sovereignty of the Vidyádharas, which this mendicant was aiming at, shall fall to your lot after you have finished the enjoyment of your earthly sway. Since I have given you much annoyance, choose whatever boon you desire." When the Vetála said this, the king said to him, "Since you are pleased with me, every boon that I could desire is obtained; nevertheless, as your words cannot be uttered in vain, I crave this boon of you:--may these first twenty-four questions and answers, charming with their various tales, and this conclusion, the twenty-fifth of the series, be all famous and honoured on the earth!" When the king made this request to the Vetála, the latter replied, "So be it! and now listen, king; I am going to mention a peculiar excellence which it shall possess. This string of tales, consisting of the twenty-four first, and this final concluding tale, shall become, under the title of the Twenty-five Tales of a Vampire, famous and honoured on the earth, as conducing to prosperity! Whosoever shall read respectfully even a sloka of it, or whosoever shall hear it read, even they two shall immediately be freed from their curse. And Yakshas, and Vetálas, and Kushmándas, and witches, and Rákshasas, and other creatures of the kind shall have no power where this shall be recited." When the Vetála had said this, he left that human corpse, and went by his supernatural deluding power to the habitation he desired. Then Siva, being pleased, appeared, accompanied by all the gods, to that king, visibly manifest, and said to him, as he bowed before him; "Bravo! my son, for that thou hast to-day slain this hypocritical ascetic, who was so ardently in love with the imperial sovereignty over the Vidyádharas! I originally created thee out of a portion of myself, as Vikramáditya, in order that thou mightest destroy the Asuras, that had become incarnate in the form of Mlechchhas. And now thou hast again been created by me as a heroic king of the name of Trivikramasena, in order that thou mightest overcome an audacious evildoer. So thou shalt bring under thy sway the earth with the islands and the realms below, and shalt soon become supreme ruler over the Vidyádharas. And after thou hast long enjoyed heavenly pleasures, thou shalt become melancholy, and shalt of thy own will abandon them, and shalt at last without fail be united with me. Now receive from me this sword named Invincible, by means of which thou shalt duly obtain all this." When the god Siva had said this to the king, he gave him that splendid sword, and disappeared after he had been worshipped by him with devout speeches and flowers. Then king Trivikramasena, seeing that the whole business was finished, and as the night had come to an end, entered his own city Pratishthána. There he was honoured by his rejoicing subjects, who in course of time came to hear of his exploits during the night, and he spent the whole of that day in bathing, giving gifts, in worshipping Siva, in dancing, singing, music, and other enjoyments of the kind. And in a few days that king, by the power of the sword of Siva, came to enjoy the earth, that was cleared of all enemies, together with the islands and the lower regions; and then by the appointment of Siva he obtained the high imperial sovereignty over the Vidyádharas, and after enjoying it long, at last became united with the blessed one, so attaining all his ends. (Here ends the Vetálapanchavinsati.) When [417] that minister Vikramakesarin, meeting in the way the successful [418] prince Mrigánkadatta, after he had been long separated from him by a curse, had told him all this, he went on to say to him, "So, prince, after that old Bráhman had told me in that village this story, called the Twenty-five Tales of a Vampire, he went on to say to me, 'Well, my son, did not that heroic king Trivikramasena obtain from the favour of a Vetála the thing that he desired? So do you also receive from me this spell, and laying aside your state of despondency, win over a chief among the Vetálas, in order that you may obtain reunion with prince Mrigánkadatta. For nothing is unattainable by those who possess endurance; who, my son, will not fail, if he allows his endurance to break down? So do what I recommend you to do out of affection; for you kindly delivered me from the pain of the bite of a poisonous serpent.' When the Bráhman said this, I received from him the spell with the practice to be employed with it, and then, king, I took leave of him, and went to Ujjayiní. There I got hold of a corpse in the cemetery at night, and I washed it, and performed all the other necessary processes with regard to it, and I summoned a Vetála into it by means of that spell, and duly worshipped him. And to satisfy his hunger, I gave him human flesh to eat; and being greedy for the flesh of men, he ate that up quickly, and then said to me; 'I am not satisfied with this; give me some more.' And as he would not wait any time, I cut off my own flesh, [419] and gave it to him to please him: and that made that prince of magicians exceedingly pleased with me. Then he said to me, 'My friend, I am much pleased now with this intrepid valour of thine, so become whole in thy limbs as thou wast before, and crave from me whatever boon thou desirest.' When the Vetála said this to me, I answered him then and there: 'Convey me, god, to that place where my master Mrigánkadatta is; there is no other boon which I desire more than this.' Then the mighty Vetála said to me; 'Then quickly get up on my shoulder, that I may carry thee rapidly to that master of thine.' When the Vetála said this, I consented, and eagerly climbed up on his shoulder, and then the Vetála, that was inside that human corpse, rapidly set out through the air, carrying me with him. And he has brought me here to-day, king, and when that mighty Vetála saw you on the way, he brought me down from the air, and thus I have been made to reach the sole of your foot. And I have to-day been reunited with my master, and the Vetála has departed, having accomplished what was required of him. This, O bestower of honour, [420] is my great adventure, since I was separated from you by the curse of the Nága." When Mrigánkadatta, as he was going to Ujjayiní to win his beloved, had heard, on the way, from his minister Vikramakesarin, this account of his adventures since he had been separated from him, that prince rejoiced, as he had in course of time found some of his ministers, who were separated from him by the curse of Párávatáksha, and as he augured therefrom success in all that he had in hand. NOTE. Properly speaking, there are 24 instead of 25 stories in this version of the Vetála Panchavinsati. The same appears to be the case with the redaction ascribed to Sivadása, according to Oesterley, and with the Tamul version. The 24th tale in Oesterley's translation is simply a repetition of the 22nd. CHAPTER C. Honour to the vanquisher of obstacles, [421] round whose knees, when he is dancing at night, there winds a garland of stars, which appears as if it had fallen from the globes on his forehead! Then, the story being ended, the delighted Mrigánkadatta rose up from the middle of the path, and set out again for Ujjayiní for which he had long ago started in order to find Sasánkavatí, with a party of eight, including himself, having recovered Vikramakesarin, accompanied by Gunákara, and Vimalabuddhi, and Vichitrakatha, and Bhímaparákrama, and Prachandasakti, and the Bráhman Srutadhi, and he kept looking out for those of his companions separated from him by the curse of the Nága, whom he had not yet recovered. And in course of time, he reached a treeless desert, all the water in which had been dried up by the heat, and which was full of sand heated by the fierce blaze of the sun. And as the prince was traversing it, he said to his ministers, "Observe how long, terrible, and difficult to cross is this great desert; for it has in it no refuge, it is pathless and abandoned by men; and the blaze of its fire of grief seems to ascend in these sandy mirages; its rough and dishevelled locks are represented by the dry rustling blades of grass; and its thorns make it appear to have its hair standing on end through fear of the lions, tigers, and other noisome beasts; and it laments in the cries of its deer exhausted by the heat and longing for water. So we must cross this terrible desert as quickly as we can." When Mrigánkadatta had said this, he quickly crossed that desert with his ministers, who were afflicted with hunger and thirst. And he beheld in front of him a great lake filled with pellucid and cold water, looking like streams that had flowed down from the moon after it had been melted with the heat of the sun. It was so broad that it filled the whole horizon, and it looked like a jewel-mirror made by the Fortune of the three worlds, in order to behold in it the reflection of herself. That lake resembled the Mahábhárata, for in it the Dhártaráshtras [422] were making a disturbance, and many Arjuna trees were reflected; [423] and it was refreshing and sweet to the taste; it was like the churned sea of doom, for its precious fluid was drunk by the blue-necked jays that assembled near it, [424] and Vishnu might have resorted to it to find the goddess of Beauty: [425] it resembled an earthly Pátála, for its profound cool depths were never reached by the rays of the sun, and it was an unfailing receptacle of lotuses. [426] And on the western shore of that lake the prince and his ministers saw a great and wonderful tree. Its numerous far-reaching boughs, agitated by the wind, appeared like arms, and the cloud-stream that clung to its head was like the Ganges, so that it resembled Siva dancing. With its lofty top, that pierced the sky, it seemed to be standing erect out of curiosity to see the beauty of the garden Nandana. It was adorned with fruit of heavenly flavour, that clung to its branches, and so it looked like the wishing-tree of heaven, with goblets of nectar suspended on it by the gods. It waved its shoots like finger-tips, and seemed with the voices of its birds to say again and again, "Let no one question me in any way!" While prince Mrigánkadatta was looking at that tree, his ministers, worn out with hunger and thirst, ran towards it, and the moment they saw those fruits on it, they climbed up to eat them, and immediately they lost their human form, and were all six suddenly turned into fruits. Then Mrigánkadatta was bewildered at not seeing those friends of his, and he called on every one of them there by name. But when they gave no answer, and could not be seen anywhere, the prince exclaimed in a voice agonized with despair, "Alas! I am undone!" and fell on the ground in a swoon. And the Bráhman Srutadhi, who had not climbed up the tree, was the only one left at his side. So the Bráhman Srutadhi at once said to him by way of consolation, "Why, my sovereign, do you lose your firmness, and despair, though you have learned wisdom? For it is the man, who is not distracted in calamity, that obtains prosperity. Did you not find those ministers, after they had been separated from you by the curse of the Nága? In like manner shall you again recover them, and get back the others also, and moreover you shall soon be united with Sasánkavatí." When Srutadhi said this to the prince, he answered him; "How can this be? The truth is that all this train of events was arranged for our ruin by the Disposer. If it was not so arranged, how came the Vetála to appear in the night, and Bhímaparákrama to do as he did, and how came it to pass that I heard about Sasánkavatí through the conversation that took place between them, and that I set out from Ayodhyá to fetch her? How came it to pass also that we were all separated from one another in the Vindhya forest by the curse of the Nága, and that some of us were in course of time reunited, and that this second separation has now taken place and with it the ruin of all my plans? It all tallies together, my friend. The fact is they have been devoured in that tree by a demon, and without them what is Sasánkavatí to me, or what is my life worth to me? So away with delusions?" When Mrigánkadatta had said this, he rose up to throw himself into the lake out of sorrow, although Srutadhi tried to prevent him. At that moment a bodiless voice came from the air, "My son, do not act rashly, for all will end well for thee. The god Ganesa himself dwells in this tree, and he has been to-day insulted by thy ministers unwittingly. For they, king, being pinched with hunger, climbed up into the tree in which he dwells, to pick its fruits, in a state of impurity, having neither rinsed their mouths nor washed their hands and feet; so the moment that they touched the fruits, they became fruits themselves. For Ganesa inflicted on them this curse, 'Let them become that on which their minds are fixed?' Moreover, thy four other ministers, who, the moment they arrived here, climbed up the tree in the same way, were turned into fruits by the god. Therefore do thou propitiate this Ganesa with ascetic practices, and by his favour thou shalt attain all thy objects." When Mrigánkadatta had been thus addressed by the voice from the air, that seemed to rain nectar into his ears, hope again sprang up in his bosom, and he gave up all idea of suicide. So he bathed in the lake, and worshipped Ganesa, who dwelt in that tree, without taking food, and joining his palms in an attitude of supplication, praised him in the following words; "Hail thou elephant-faced lord, who art, as it were, worshipped by the earth, that with its plains, rocks, and woods, bows under the crushing weight of thy tumultuous dance! Hail thou that hast the twin lotuses of thy feet worshipped by the three worlds, with the gods, Asuras, and men, that dwell in them; thou, whose body is in shape like a pitcher for the abundant storing of various splendid successes! Hail, thou, the flame of whose might blazes forth like twelve fierce suns rising at once; thou that wast a premature day of doom to the race of the Daityas, whom Siva, Vishnu, and Indra found hard to conquer! Hail, thou that wardest off calamity from thy votaries! Hail, thou that diffusest a blaze of flame with thy hand, while it glitters with thy mighty axe, that seems anxious to illuminate thee in sport! I fly for refuge to thee, O Ganesa, that wast worshipped even by Gaurí, in order that her husband might successfully accomplish his undertaking in the conquest of Tripura; honour to thee!" When Mrigánkadatta had in these words praised Ganesa, he spent that night fasting, on a bed of kusa-grass under that tree. In the same way that prince spent eleven nights, being engaged in propitiating Ganesa, the king of impediments; and Srutadhi remained in attendance on him. And on the night of the twelfth day Ganesa said to him in a dream, "My son, I am pleased with thee; thy ministers shall be released from their curse, and thou shalt recover them; and with them thou shalt go and win Sasánkavatí in due course; and thou shalt return to thy own city, and rule the whole earth." After Mrigánkadatta had been thus informed in a dream by the god Ganesa, he woke up, when the night came to an end, and told Srutadhi the vision that he had seen. Srutadhi congratulated him on it; and then, in the morning, the prince bathed and worshipped Ganesa, and proceeded to walk round the tree in which the god dwelt, with his right hand towards it, [427] and while he was thus engaged, all his ten ministers came down from the tree, having been released from the form of fruits, and fell at his feet. Besides the six who were mentioned before, there were Vyághrasena and Sthúlabáhu, and Meghabala, and the fourth Dridhamushti. Then the prince, having recovered all those ministers at the same instant, with eye, with gestures, [428] and with voice agitated by the workings of joy, looked at his ministers, one by one, again and again, exceedingly lovingly, and embraced them, and then spoke to them; having successfully attained his object. And they, beholding with tears in their eyes their master, who, after the asceticism which he had gone through, was slender as a new moon, and having been told the true explanation of the whole by Srutadhi, felicitated themselves on having truly a protecting lord. Then Mrigánkadatta, having attained good hope of accomplishing his enterprise, joyfully broke his fast with those ministers, who had performed all necessary ablutions in the tank. CHAPTER CI. Then Mrigánkadatta, refreshed by breaking his fast, sat down with those ministers of his on the bank of that lake. Then he courteously asked those four ministers, whom he had recovered that day, for an account of their adventures during the time that he was separated from them. Thereupon that one of them, who was called Vyághrasena, said to him, "Listen, prince, I now proceed to relate our adventures. When I was carried to a distance from you by the curse of the Nága Párávatáksha, I lost my senses, and in that state I wandered through the forest by night. At last I recovered consciousness, but the darkness, which enveloped me, prevented me from seeing where the cardinal points lay, and what path I ought to take. At last the night, that grief made long, [429] came to an end; and in course of time the sun arose, that mighty god, and revealed all the quarters of the heaven. Then I said to myself 'Alas! Where can that master of mine be gone? And how will he manage to exist here alone separated from us? And how am I to recover him? Where shall I look for him? What course shall I adopt? I had better go to Ujjayiní; for I may perhaps find him there; for he must go there, to find Sasánkavatí.' With such hopes I set out slowly for Ujjayiní, threading that difficult forest that resembled calamity, scorched by the rays of the sun, that resembled showers of fiery powder. "And at last, somehow or other, I reached a lake, with full-blown lotuses for expanded eyes, that seemed to hold converse with me by means of the sweet cries of its swans and other water-birds; it stretched forth its ripples like hands; its surface was calm and broad; [430] the very sight of it took away all grief; and so in all points it resembled a good man. I bathed in it, and ate lotus-fibres, and drank water; and while I was lingering on its bank, I saw these three arrive there, Dridhamushti, and Sthúlabáhu, and Meghabala. And when we met, we asked one another for tidings of you. And as none of us knew anything about you, and we suspected the worst, we made up our minds to abandon the body, being unable to endure separation from you. "And at that moment a hermit-boy came to bathe in that lake; his name was Mahátapas, and he was the son of Dírghatapas. He had matted hair, he diffused a brightness of his own, and he seemed like the god of Fire, blazing with mighty flame, having become incarnate in the body of a Bráhman, in order to consume once more the Khándava forest; [431] he was clothed in the skin of a black antelope, he had an ascetic's water-vessel in his left hand, and on his right wrist he bore a rosary of Aksha-seeds by way of a bracelet; the perfumed earth that he used in bathing was stuck on the horns of the deer that came with him, and he was accompanied by some other hermit-boys like himself. The moment he saw us about to throw ourselves into the lake, he came towards us; for the good are easily melted with compassion, and shew causeless friendship to all. And he said to us, 'You ought not to commit a crime characteristic of cowards, for poltroons, with their minds blinded with grief, fall into the gulfs of calamity, but resolute men, having eyes enlightened by discernment, behold the right path, and do not fall into the pit, but assuredly attain their goal. And you, being men of auspicious appearance, will no doubt attain prosperity; so tell me, what is your grief? For it grieves my heart to see you thus.' "When the hermit-boy had said this, I at once told him the whole of our adventure from the beginning; then that boy, who could read the future, [432] and his companions, exhorted us with various speeches, and diverted our minds from suicide. Then the hermit-boy, after he had bathed, took us to his father's hermitage, which was at no great distance, to entertain us. "There that hermit's son bestowed on us the arghya, and made us sit down in a place, in which even the trees seemed to have entered on a course of penance, for they stood aloft on platforms of earth, and lifted on high their branches like arms, and drank in the rays of the sun. And then he went and asked all the trees in the hermitage, one after another, for alms. And in a moment his alms-vessel was filled with fruits, that of themselves dropped from the trees; and he came back with it to us. And he gave us those fruits of heavenly flavour, and when we had eaten them, we became, as it were, satisfied with nectar. "And when the day came to an end, and the sun descended into the sea, and the sky was filled with stars, as if with spray flung up by his fall, and the moon, having put on a white bark-robe of moonlight, had gone to the ascetic grove on the top of the eastern mountain, [433] as if desiring to withdraw from the world on account of the fall of the sun, we went to see the hermits, who had finished all their duties, and were sitting together in a certain part of the hermitage. We bowed before them, and sat down, and those great sages welcomed us, and with kindly words at once asked us whence we came. Then that hermit-boy told them our history until the time of our entering the hermitage. Then a wise hermit there, of the name of Kanva, said to us, 'Come, why have you allowed yourselves to become so dispirited, being, as you are, men of valour? For it is the part of a brave man to display unbroken firmness in calamity, and freedom from arrogance in success, and never to abandon fortitude. And great men attain the title of great by struggling through great difficulties by the aid of resolution, and accomplishing great things. In illustration of this, listen to this story of Sundarasena, and hear how he endured hardship for the sake of Mandáravatí?' When the hermit Kanva had said this, he began, in the hearing of us and of all the hermits, to tell the following tale." Story of Sundarasena and Mandáravatí. There is a country named Nishada, that adorns the face of the northern quarter; in it there was of old a city of the name of Alaká. In this city the people were always happy in abundance of all things, [434] and the only things that never enjoyed repose were the jewel-lamps. In it there lived a king of the name of Mahásena, and not without reason was he so named, for his enemies were all consumed by the wonderful and terrible fire of his valour, which resembled that of the god of war. That king had a prime minister named Gunapálita, who was like a second Sesha, for he was a mine of valour, and could bear up, like that serpent, the weight of the earth. The king, having destroyed his enemies, laid upon him the weight of his kingdom and devoted himself to pleasure; and then he had a son born to him by his queen Sasiprabhá, named Sundarasena. Even when he was a child, he was no child in good qualities, and the goddesses of valour and beauty chose him for their self-elected husband. That prince had five heroic ministers, equal in age and accomplishments, who had grown up with him from their childhood, Chandaprabha, and Bhímabhuja, and Vyághraparákrama, and the heroic Vikramasakti, and the fifth was Dridhabuddhi. And they were all men of great courage, endowed with strength and wisdom, well-born, and devoted to their master, and they even understood the cries of birds. [435] And the prince lived with them in his father's house without a suitable wife, being unmarried, though he was grown up. And that heroic Sundarasena and his ministers reflected, "Courage invincible in assault, and wealth won by his own arm, and a wife equal to him in beauty become a hero on this earth. Otherwise, what is the use of this beauty?" And one day the prince went out of the town to hunt, accompanied by his soldiers, and by those five companions, and as he was going out, a certain famous female mendicant named Kátyáyaní, bold from the maturity of her age, who had just returned from a distant foreign country, saw him, and said to herself, when she beheld his superhuman beauty, "Is this the Moon without Rohiní or the god of Love without Rati?" But when she asked his attendants, and found out that it was the prince, she was astonished, and praised the marvellousness of the creation of the Disposer. [436] Then she cried out to the prince from a distance with a shrill and far reaching voice, "Be victorious, O prince," and so saying she bowed before him. But at that moment the mind of the prince was wholly occupied by a conversation which he had begun with his ministers, and he went on without hearing the female ascetic. But she was angry, and called out to him in such a loud voice that he could not help hearing her, "Ho! prince! why do you not listen to the blessing of such a one as I am? What king or prince is there on the earth that does not honour me? [437] But if your youth and other advantages render you so proud now, it is certain that, if you obtain for a wife that ornament of the world, the maiden Mandáravatí, the daughter of the king of Hansadvípa, you will be too much puffed up with arrogance to listen to the speech of Siva, [438] the great Indra, and other gods, much less to the words of wretched men." When the ascetic had said this, Sundarasena, being full of curiosity, called her to him, and bent before her and propitiated her. And being anxious to question her, he sent her under the care of his servants to rest in the house of his minister Vikramasakti. Then the prince went off, and after he had enjoyed the sport of hunting, he returned to his palace, and said his daily prayers, and took his food, and then he sent for the ascetic, and put the following question to her, "Reverend mother, who is this maiden named Mandáravatí, that you spoke of to-day? Tell me, for I feel great curiosity about her." When the ascetic heard this, she said to him, "Listen, I will tell you the whole story. I am in the habit of wandering about the whole of this earth and the islands, for the sake of visiting sacred bathing-places and other holy spots. And in the course of my travels I happened to visit Hansadvípa. There I saw the daughter of king Mandáradeva, a suitable match for the sons of gods, not to be beheld by those who have done evil works; she bears the name of Mandáravatí, and has a form as charming as the presiding goddess of the garden of the gods; the sight of her kindles love, and she seems like another moon all composed of nectar, created by the Disposer. There is no other beauty on the earth equal to hers; [439] only you, prince, I think, emulate her wealth of loveliness. As for those who have not seen her, their eyes are useless, and they have been born in vain." When the prince heard this from the mouth of the female ascetic, he said, "Mother, how are we to get a sight of her beauty, which is so surpassing?" When the female ascetic heard this speech of his, she said, "I took such interest in her on that occasion that I painted a picture of her on canvas; and I have it with me in a bag; if you feel any curiosity about it, look at it." When she had said this, she took the picture of the lady out of the bag, and shewed it to the gratified prince. And Sundarasena, when he beheld that maiden, who, though she was present there only in a picture, seemed to be of romantic beauty, and like a flowing forth of joy, immediately felt his limbs covered all over with hairs erect from horripilation, as if he had been pierced with the dense arrows of the god of the flowery bow. [440] He remained motionless, hearing nothing, speaking nothing, seeing nothing; and with his whole heart fixed on her, was for a long time as if painted in a picture. When the prince's ministers saw that, they said to that female ascetic, "Reverend mother, paint prince Sundarasena on this piece of canvas, and let us have a specimen of your skill in catching likenesses." The moment she heard that, she painted the prince on canvas. And when they saw that it was a striking likeness, all, who were present there, said, "The reverend lady's likenesses exactly resemble the originals, for when one looks at this picture, one thinks that one sees the prince himself; so the beauty of the princess Mandáravatí is sure to be such as it is represented in the picture." When the ministers had said this, prince Sundarasena took the two pictures, and being pleased, honoured that female ascetic. And he dismissed with appropriate honours that dweller in a lonely spot. And he entered the inner part of the palace, carrying with him the picture of his beloved. He flung himself on a bed and said to himself "Can this be my charmer's face, or a moon that has purged away the spot that defiles its beauty?" [441] In this way he remained examining Mandáravatí, limb by limb, though he had only her painted form before him: and in this state he continued every day, abstaining from meat and drink; and so in the course of a few days he was completely exhausted by the pain of love's fever. When his parents, Sasiprabhá and Mahásena, found that out, they came of their own accord and asked his friends the cause of his indisposition. And his companions told them the whole story, as it had happened, how the daughter of the king of Hansadvípa had come to be the cause of his complaint. Then Mahásena said to Sundarasena, "My son, why do you so improperly conceal this attachment of yours? For Mandáravatí is a pearl of maidens, and she will be a good match for you. Besides, her father Mandáradeva is a great friend of mine. So why do you torment yourself about a matter of this kind, which is quite becoming, and can be easily arranged by an ambassador?" When king Mahásena had said this, he deliberated, and sent off an ambassador named Surathadeva to Hansadvípa, to ask for the daughter of king Mandáradeva. And he put into his hand the portrait of Sundarasena, executed on canvas by that female ascetic, which shewed how wonderfully handsome he was. The ambassador travelled quickly, and reached the city of king Mahendráditya on the shore of the sea, named Sasánkapura. There he embarked on a ship, and after some days he reached the palace of king Mandáradeva in Hansadvípa. He was announced by the wardens and entered the palace, and saw that king, and after he had in due form delivered to him the present, he said to him, "Great monarch, king Mahásena sends you this message, 'Give your daughter to my son Sundarasena; for a female ascetic, of the name of Kátyáyaní, made a portrait of her, and brought it here, and shewed it to my son, as the picture of a pearl of maidens. And as Sundarasena's beauty so nearly resembled hers, I felt a desire to have his form painted on canvas also, and herewith I send the picture. Look at it. Moreover, my son, who is of such astonishing beauty, does not wish to be married, unless he can find a wife that resembles him, and nobody but your daughter is a match for him in appearance.' This is the message the king entrusted to me, when he put this portrait into my hand; look at it, king, let the spring-flower creeper be united to the spring." When the king heard this speech of the ambassador's, he was delighted, and he sent for his daughter Mandáravatí and the queen her mother. And in their company he opened and looked at that portrait, and immediately he ceased to cherish the proud thought, that there was no fitting match for his daughter on the earth. And he said, "My daughter's beauty will not have been created in vain, if she is united to this prince. She does not look her best without him, nor is he complete without her; what is the lotus-bed without the swan, and what is the swan without the lotus-bed?" When the king said this, and the queen expressed her complete approbation of it, Mandáravatí suddenly became bewildered with love. She remained with her wide expanded eyes immoveably fixed on the picture, as if possessed, as if asleep, (though she was wide awake,) as if herself a painting. Then Mandáradeva, seeing his daughter in that state, consented to give her in marriage, and he honoured that ambassador. And on the next day the king sent off his counter-ambassador, who was a Bráhman named Kumáradatta, to king Mahásena. And he said to the two ambassadors, "Go quickly to that king Mahásena, the lord of Alaká, and say to him from me, 'I give you my daughter out of friendship; so tell me, will your son come here, or shall I send my daughter to you?'" When the two ambassadors had received this message from the king, they immediately started off together on the sea in a ship; and they reached Sasánkapura, and thence they travelled by land, and reached that opulent city of Alaká, which seemed like the original Alaká. [442] They went to the king's palace, and entered it with the usual courtesies, and saw king Mahásena who welcomed them. And they told that king the answer which Mandáradeva entrusted to them; and when the king heard it, he was pleased, and shewed both of them great honour. Then the king found out the star, under which the princess was born, from her father's ambassador; and he asked his astrologers when a favourable time would arrive for the marriage of his son. And they answered that an auspicious time would present itself in three months for bridegroom and bride, on the fifth day of the white fortnight of the month Kártika. And so the king of Alaká informed Mandáradeva that the marriage ought to take place on that day, and that he would send his son, and this he wrote in a letter, and committed it to the care of the ambassador Kumáradatta, and another ambassador of his own named Chandrasvámin. So the ambassadors departed, and gave the letter as they were directed, and told the king of Hansadvípa all that had taken place. The king approved, and after honouring Chandrasvámin, the ambassador of Mahásena, he sent him back to his master. And he returned to Alaká, and reported that the business was satisfactorily settled; and then all on both sides remained eagerly expecting the auspicious day. And in the meanwhile Mandáravatí in Hansadvípa, who had long ago fallen in love with the prince from seeing his picture, thought that the auspicious day for the marriage was a long way off, and felt unable to endure so much delay; and being affectionate, she became desperately enamoured, and was grievously tormented with the fire of love. And in the eager longing of her heart for Sundarasena, even the anointing with sandal-wood ointment became a shower of hot coals on her body, and a bed of lotus-leaves was to her a bed of hot sand, and the rays of the moon seemed like the scorching points of flame of a forest conflagration. She remained silent, avoiding food, adopting a vow of loneliness; and when her confidante questioned her in her anxiety, she was at last, with difficulty, induced to make the following avowal; "My friend, my marriage is far off, and I cannot bear to wait for the time, separated from my intended husband, the son of the king of Alaká. Distant is the time, and the place, and various is the course of Fate; so who knows what will happen to any one here in the meantime? So I had better die." Saying this, Mandáravatí, being sick with separation, passed immediately into a miserable state. When her father and mother heard that from the mouth of her confidante, and saw her in such a condition, they deliberated with the ministers, and came to the following conclusion, "That king Mahásena, the sovereign of Alaká, is on good terms with us, and the princess Mandáravatí is unable to endure the delay here, so why should we feel any delicacy about it? Happen what will, let us send her to Alaká, for when she is near her beloved, she will be able patiently to endure the delay." When king Mandáradeva had gone through these deliberations, he comforted his daughter Mandáravatí, and made her embark on a ship with wealth and attendants, and after her mother had recited a prayer for her good fortune, he sent her off from Hansadvípa by sea on an auspicious day, to travel to Alaká, in order that she might be married there; and he sent with her a minister of his own, named Vinítamati. And after the princess, travelling in a ship on the ocean, had left Hansadvípa some days' sail behind her, there suddenly rose up against her a roaring cloud, as it were a bandit, showering raindrops like arrows, that sang terribly in the whistling wind. And the gale, like mighty fate, in a moment dragged her ship to a distance, and smote it, and broke it in pieces. And those attendants were drowned, and among them Vinítamati; and all her treasure was whelmed in the ocean. But the sea lifted up the princess with a wave, as it were with an arm, and flung her up alive in a forest on the shore, near the scene of the shipwreck. To think that she should have fallen into the sea, and that a towering wave should have landed her in a forest! Behold now, how nothing is impossible to Destiny! Then she, in such a situation, terrified and confused, seeing that she was alone in a solitary wood, was again plunged in a sea, but this time it was the sea of grief. She exclaimed, "Where have I arrived? Surely it is a very different place from that for which I set out! Where too are those attendants of mine? Where is Vinítamati? Why has this suddenly happened to me? Where shall I go, ill-starred as I am? Alas! I am undone! What shall I do? Cursed Fate, why did you rescue me from the sea? Ah! father! Ah, mother! Ah, husband, son of the king of Alaká! Look; I am perishing before I reach you; why do you not deliver me?" While uttering these and similar exclamations, Mandáravatí wept copiously with tears that resembled the pearls of a broken necklace. And at that very time a hermit, named Matanga, came there from his hermitage, which was not far off, to bathe in the sea. That sage, who was accompanied by his daughter, named Yamuná, who had observed a vow of virginity from her childhood, heard the sound of Mandáravatí's weeping. And with his daughter he approached her kindly, and he saw her, looking like a doe separated from a herd of deer, casting her sorrowing eyes in every direction. And the great sage said to her with an affectionate voice, "Who are you, and how did you get into this wood, and why do you weep?" Then Mandáravatí, seeing that he was a compassionate man, slowly recovered herself, and told him her story, with face dejected from shame. Then the hermit Matanga, after meditating, said to her, "Princess, cease to despair; recover your composure! Though you are delicate of body as a sirísha-flower, the calamity of sorrow afflicts you; do misfortunes ever consider whether their victim is tender or not? But you shall soon obtain the husband you desire; so come to this hermitage of mine, which is at no great distance from this place; and remain there with this daughter of mine as in your own house." When the great hermit had comforted her with these words, he bathed, and accompanied by his daughter, led Mandáravatí to his hermitage. There she remained leading an ascetic life, longing to meet her husband, delighting herself with waiting upon that sage, accompanied by his daughter. And in the meanwhile Sundarasena, who was emaciated with long expectation, remained killing the time in Alaká, continually counting the days, eager for his marriage with Mandáravatí, and his friend Chandaprabha and the rest were trying to console him. And in course of time, as the auspicious day drew nigh, his father, the king, made preparations for his journey to Hansadvípa. And after prayers had been offered for a prosperous journey, prince Sundarasena started from his home on an auspicious day, shaking the earth with his armies. And as he was marching along with his ministers, he reached in course of time, to his delight, that city Sasánkapura, which adorned the shore of the sea. There king Mahendráditya, hearing of his approach, came to meet him, bowing humbly, and the prince entered the city with his followers, and mounted on an elephant, he reached the palace of the king. And as he went along, the splendour of his beauty fluttered the hearts of the ladies of the city, as the hurricane flutters the lotus-bed. In the palace, king Mahendráditya shewed him every attention, and promised to accompany him: and so he rested there that day. And he spent the night in such thoughts as these, "Shall I ever get across the sea, and win that blushing bride?" And next morning he left his army in that very city, and went with king Mahendráditya to the shore of the sea. There he and his ministers, together with that king, embarked on a large ship, that was well supplied with food and water. And the prince made the small retinue, that he could not help taking, embark on a second ship. Then the ship was let go, and its flag fluttered in the wind, and those two kings, who were in it, shaped their course towards the south-western quarter. And after two or three days had passed, as they were sailing on the sea, there suddenly arose a great hurricane. And the ranges of forest on the shores of the sea shook to and fro, as if in astonishment at the unprecedented character of the gale. And the waters of the sea, inverted by the wind, were turned upside down, again and again, as affections are by lapse of time. And an offering of jewels was made to the sea accompanied by a loud cry of woe; and the pilots let loose the sail and relaxed their efforts at the same time; and all excitedly flung out very heavy stones on all sides, fastened by chains, and flung away their hopes of life at the same time; and the two vessels, driven to and fro by the waves, as elephants by elephant-drivers, [443] wandered about in the sea, as if in the mêlée of a battle. Then Sundarasena, beholding that, was moved from his seat, as if from his self-command, [444] and said to king Mahendráditya, "It is through my demerits in former births that this day of doom has suddenly come upon you. So I cannot endure to witness it; I will fling myself into the sea." When the prince had said this, he quickly girt his upper garment round his loins, and flung himself then and there into the sea. And when his five friends, Chandaprabha and the others, saw that, they too flung themselves in, and Mahendráditya did the same. And while, having recovered their presence of mind, they were swimming across the ocean, they all went in different directions, being separated by the force of the waves. And immediately the wind fell, and the sea became hushed and calm, and bore the semblance of a good man whose wrath is appeased. [445] And in the meanwhile Sundarasena, with whom was Dridhabuddhi, found a ship that had been driven from somewhere or other by the wind, and with that minister of his as his only companion he climbed up on it, as it were on a second swing of incertitude oscillating between rescue and destruction. Then, having lost all courage, he drifted, not knowing his bearings, looking on the whole world as made of water, confiding in his god: and the ship, which was wafted along by a gentle and favourable breeze, as if by a deity, carried him to the shore in three days. There it stuck fast, and he and his companion sprang to shore and to a hope of life at the same moment. And when there, he recovered breath, and said to Dridhabuddhi; "I have escaped even from the sea, from the infernal regions, though I went below; but since I have not been able to do so without causing the death of my ministers Vikramasakti, and Vyághraparákrama, and Chandaprabha and Bhímabhuja, such fine fellows as they were, and also of king Mahendráditya, who became without cause so good a friend to me,--of all these,--how can I now live with honour?" When he said this, his minister Dridhabuddhi said to him, "Prince, recover your composure; I am persuaded that we shall have good fortune; for they may perhaps make their way across the sea, as we have done. Who can discern the mysterious way of Destiny?" While Dridhabuddhi was saying this and other things of the same kind, two hermits came there to bathe. The good men, seeing that the prince was despondent, came up to him, and asked him his story, and said kindly to him; "Wise sir, even the gods are not able to alter the mighty influence of actions in a previous state of existence, that bestow joy and sorrow. So a resolute man, who wishes to take leave of sorrow, should practise right doing; for right doing is the true remedy for it, not regrets, nor emaciation of the body. So abandon despondency, and preserve your body by resolute endurance; as long as the body is preserved, what object of human endeavour cannot be attained? Moreover, you possess auspicious marks; you are certain to enjoy prosperity." Saying this the hermits consoled him, and took him to their hermitage. And prince Sundarasena remained waiting there for some days, accompanied by Dridhabuddhi. And in the meanwhile his ministers Bhímabhuja and Vikramasakti, having swum across the sea, reached the shore in a separate place. And hoping that perhaps the prince might have escaped from the sea like themselves, they entered that great forest, and searched for him bewildered with grief. And his other two ministers, Chandaprabha and Vyághraparákrama, and king Mahendráditya, in the same way escaped from the sea, and sorrowfully sought for Sundarasena, and when they did not find him, were afflicted; and at last they found their ship unharmed and went to Sasánkapura. Then those two ministers, and the army that had been left in that city, hearing what had happened, [446] went weeping to their own city Alaká. And when they arrived without the prince, lamenting their loss, the citizens wept, and one universal wail was heard in the city. When king Mahásena and his queen heard that news of their son, they were in such a state that they would have died, if it were not that their allotted term of life had not yet expired. And when the king and the queen were bent on suicide, the ministers dissuaded them with various speeches, which gave them reasons for entertaining hope. Then the king remained in a temple of Svayambhú [447] outside the town, engaged in asceticism with his attendants, enquiring for news of his son. And in the meanwhile king Mandáradeva, in Hansadvípa, heard the news of the shipwreck of his daughter, and of that of his proposed son-in-law. And he also came to know that his son-in-law's two ministers had arrived in Alaká, and that king Mahásena there was keeping himself alive by hope, being engaged in practising austerities. Then that king also, who was afflicted by grief for the loss of his daughter, and was only prevented by his ministers from committing suicide, entrusted to them the care of his kingdom, and with the queen Kandarpasená went to the city of Alaká to visit king Mahásena, who was his partner in misfortune. And he made up his mind that he would do whatever that king did, as soon as he had trustworthy intelligence with regard to the fate of his son. And so he came to king Mahásena, who was still more grieved when he heard of the fate of Mandáravatí, and sorrowed in sympathy with him. Then that king of Hansadvípa remained practising austerities with the king of Alaká, restraining his senses, eating little, sleeping on darbha-grass. When they had been all scattered in this way in different directions by the Disposer, as leaves by a wind, it happened that Sundarasena set forth from the hermitage in which he was, and reached that hermitage of Matanga, in which Mandáravatí was staying. There he beheld a lake of clear water, the bank of which was thickly planted with trees bent down with the weight of many ripe fruits of various flavours. As he was weary, he bathed in that lake, and ate sweet fruits, and then walked on with Dridhabuddhi, and reached a forest stream. And going along its bank, he saw some hermit maidens engaged in gathering flowers near a temple containing a Linga. And in the midst of them he beheld one hermit maiden, who seemed to be the peerless beauty of the world, illuminating the whole wood with her loveliness, as if with moonlight, making all the regions full of blown blue lilies with her glance, and sowing with her foot-falls a thicket of lotuses in the forest. Then the prince said to Dridhabuddhi, "Who can this be? Can she be a nymph of heaven worthy of being gazed upon by the hundred-eyed Indra; or is she the presiding goddess of the forest with her shoot-like fingers clinging to the flowers? Surely the Creator framed this very wonderful form of hers after he had perfected his skill by continual practice in creating many nymphs of heaven. And lo! she exactly resembles in appearance my beloved Mandáravatí, whose beauty I beheld in a picture. Why should she not be the lady herself? But how can this be? She is in Hansadvípa far away from this heart of the forest. So I cannot [448] conceive who this fair one is, and whence she comes, and how she comes to be here." And Dridhabuddhi, when he saw that fair maid, said to the prince, "She must be whom you suppose her to be, otherwise how could her ornaments, though made of forest flowers, thus resemble a necklace, a zone, a string of bells, and the other ornaments usually worn? Moreover, this beauty and delicacy are not produced in a forest; so you may be certain that she is some heavenly nymph, or some princess, not the daughter of a hermit. Let us rise up and stand here [449] a moment to find out." When Dridhabuddhi had said this, they both of them stood there concealed by a tree. And in the meanwhile those hermit maidens, having gathered their flowers, went down into that river with that lovely girl to bathe. And while they were amusing themselves by splashing about in it, it happened that an alligator came and seized that lovely girl. When those maidens saw that, they were bewildered, and they cried out in their sorrow, "Help, help, ye woodland deities! For here is Mandáravatí, while bathing in the river, suddenly and unexpectedly seized by an alligator, and perishing." When Sundarasena heard that, he thought to himself, "Can this really be that beloved of mine?" and rushing forward he quickly killed that alligator with his dagger. And when she fell from the monster's mouth, as it were from the mouth of death, he carried her up on the bank, and comforted her. And she, for her part, having got over her fear, and seeing that he was a charming person, said to herself, "Who is this great-hearted one that my good fortune has brought here to save my life? Wonderful to say, he bears a close resemblance to that lover of mine whom I saw in a picture, the high-born son of the king of Alaká. Can he possibly be that very man? But out on my evil thought! Heaven forefend! May such a man never be an exile from his native land! So it is not fitting for me now to remain in the society of a strange man. Accordingly, I will leave this place: may prosperity be the lot of this great-souled one!" After going through these reflections, Mandáravatí said to those companions of hers, "First take a respectful leave of this noble gentleman, and then come with me; we will now depart." When prince Sundarasena, whose doubts were before unsatisfied, heard this, he conceived great confidence from merely hearing his own name, and he questioned one of her companions, saying to her, "Auspicious one, whose daughter and of what condition is this friend of yours? Tell me, for I feel a great desire to know." When he questioned the hermit maiden in these words, she said to him, "This is the princess Mandáravatí, the daughter of king Mandáradeva, the sovereign of Hansadvípa. She was being conducted to the city of Alaká to be married to prince Sundarasena, when her ship was wrecked in the sea, and the waves flung her up upon the shore: and the hermit Matanga found her there and brought her to his hermitage." When she said this, Sundarasena's friend Dridhabuddhi, dancing like one bewildered with joy and despondency, said to the prince, "I congratulate you on having now been successful in obtaining the princess Mandáravatí; for is not this that very lady of whom we were thinking?" When he had said this, her companions the hermit maidens questioned him, and he told them his story; and they gladdened with it that friend of theirs. Then Mandáravatí exclaimed, "Ah, my husband," and fell weeping at the feet of that Sundarasena. He, for his part, embraced her and wept, and while they were weeping there, even stocks and herbs wept, melted with compassion. Then the hermit Matanga, having been informed of all this by those hermit maidens, came there quickly, accompanied by Yamuná. He comforted that Sundarasena, who prostrated himself at his feet, and took him with Mandáravatí to his own hermitage. And that day he refreshed him by entertaining him, and made him feel happy; and the next day the great hermit said to that prince, "My son, I must to-day go for a certain affair to Svetadvípa, so you must go with Mandáravatí to Alaká; there you must marry this princess and cherish her; for I have adopted her as my daughter, and I give her to you. And you shall rule the earth for a long time with her; and you shall soon recover all those ministers of yours." When the hermit had said this to the prince and his betrothed, he took leave of them, and went away through the air with his daughter Yamuná, who was equal to himself in power. Then Sundarasena, with Mandáravatí, and accompanied by Dridhabuddhi, set out from that hermitage. And when he reached the shore of the sea, he saw coming near him a light ship under the command of a young merchant. And in order to accomplish his journey more easily, he asked the young merchant who was the owner of that ship, through Dridhabuddhi, hailing him from a distance, to give him a passage in it. The wicked merchant, who beheld Mandáravatí, and was at once distracted with love, consented, and brought his ship near the shore. Then Sundarasena first placed his beloved on board the ship, and was preparing to get on board himself from the bank where he stood, when the wicked merchant, coveting his neighbour's wife, made a sign to the steersman, and so set the ship in motion. And the ship, on board of which the princess was crying piteously, rapidly disappeared from the view of Sundarasena, who stood gazing at it. And he fell on the ground crying out, "Alas! I am robbed by thieves," and wept for a long time, and then Dridhabuddhi said to him, "Rise up! Abandon despondency! this is not a course befitting a hero. Come along! Let us go in that direction to look for that thief: for even in the most grievous hour of calamity the wise do not take leave of their fortitude." When Sundarasena had been thus exhorted by Dridhabuddhi, he was at last induced to rise up from the shore of the sea and set out. And he went on his way weeping, and crying out, "Alas, queen! Alas, Mandáravatí!" continually scorched by the fire of separation, fasting, accompanied only by the weeping Dridhabuddhi; and almost beside himself with distraction he entered a great wood. And when in it, he paid no attention to the wise counsels of his friend, but ran hither and thither, thinking only of his beloved. When he saw the creepers in full bloom, he said, "Can this be my beloved come here, adorned with blown flowers, having escaped from that merchant-robber?" When he saw the beautiful lotuses, he said, "Can she have dived into a tank in her fear, and is she lifting up her face with long-lashed eyes and looking at me?" And when he heard the cuckoos singing concealed by the leafy creepers, he said, "Is the sweet-voiced fair one here addressing me?" Thus raving at every step, he wandered about for a long time, scorched by the moon, as if it were the sun; and so to him the night was the same as the day. And at last the prince with Dridhabuddhi emerged from that wood, though with difficulty, and having lost his way, reached a great wilderness. It was perilous with fierce rhinoceroses, dangerous as being inhabited by lions, and so was as formidable [450] as an army, and moreover it was beset by a host of bandits. When the prince entered this wilderness, which was refugeless, and full of many misfortunes, like misery, he was set upon with uplifted weapons, by some Pulindas, who happened to be on the look out for human victims to offer to Durgá, by order of Vindhyaketu the king of the Pulindas, who lived in that region. When the prince was tormented with five fires, of misfortune, exile, the grief of separation, that affront from a base man, fasting, and the fatigue of the journey; alas! Fate created a sixth fire in the form of an attack of bandits, as if in order to exhaust his self-command. And when many of the bandits rushed towards him to seize him, showering arrows, he, with only one companion to help him, killed them with his dagger. When king Vindhyaketu discovered that, he sent forward another force, and Sundarasena, being skilled in fighting, killed a great many bandits belonging to that force also. At last he and his companion fainted from the exhaustion of their wounds; and then those Savaras bound them, and took them and threw them into prison. The prison was full of multitudes of vermin, filthy with cobwebs, and it was evident that snakes frequented it, as they had dropped there the skins that clung to their throats. The dust in it rose as high as the ancle, [451] it was honey-combed with the holes and galleries of mice, and full of many terrified and miserable men that had been thrown into it. In that place, which seemed the very birthplace of hells, they saw those two ministers Bhímabhuja and Vikramasakti, who, like themselves, had entered that wilderness after escaping from the sea, in order to look for their master, and had been already bound and thrown into prison. They recognised the prince and fell weeping at his feet, and he recognised them, and embraced them, bathed in tears. Then their woes were increased a hundredfold by seeing one another; but the other prisoners there said to them, in order to console them, "Enough of grief! Can we avoid the effect of acts done in a previous state of existence? Do you not see that the death of all of us together is imminent? For we have been collected here by this king of the Pulindas, in order that he may offer us up to Durgá on the coming fourteenth day of the month. So why should you grieve? The way of Fate, that sports with living beings, is strange; as she has given you misfortune, she may in the same way give you prosperity." When the other prisoners had said this to them, they remained there bound with them; it is terrible to see how little respect calamities shew even for the great. And when the fourteenth day arrived, they were all taken thence by the orders of the king to the temple of Durgá to be sacrificed. It seemed like the mouth of death, the flame of the lamp being its lolling tongue, the range of bells being its row of teeth, to which the heads of men clung. [452] Then Sundarasena, when he saw that goddess, bowed before her, and praised her with mind humbled by devotion, and uttered this prayer, "O thou goddess that didst quell the oppression of the Asuras with thy blood-streaming trident, which mangled haughty Daityas, thou that givest security to thy votaries, look upon me, goddess, that am burned up with the forest-fire of grief, with a favourable nectar-shedding eye, and refresh me. Honour to thee!" While the prince was saying this, Vindhyaketu, that king of the Pulindas, came there to worship the goddess Durgá. The moment the prince saw the king of the Bhillas, he recognised him, and being bowed down with shame, said of his own accord to his friends, "Ha! this is that very Vindhyaketu, the chief of the Pulindas, who comes to my father's court to pay him homage, and is the lord of this vast wilderness. Whatever may happen, we must not say anything here, for it is better for a man of honour to die, than to make known who he is under such circumstances." While the prince was saying this to his ministers, king Vindhyaketu said to his servants, "Come now, shew me this heroic human victim, who killed so many of my warriors when he was being captured." As soon as his servants heard this, they brought Sundarasena, smeared with clotted blood, and defiled with wounds, into the presence of that king. When the king of the Bhillas saw him, he half recognised him, and being terrified, said to him, "Tell me, who are you, and whence do you come?" Sundarasena answered the king of the Bhillas, "What does it matter who I am, or whence I come? Do what you are about to do." Then Vindhyaketu recognised him completely by his voice, and exclaiming excitedly, "Alas! Alas!" fell on the ground. Then he embraced the prince, and said, "Alas, great king Mahásena, see what a fitting return I, villain that I am, have now made for your numerous benefits, in that I have here reduced to such a state your son, whom you value as your life, prince Sundarasena, who has come here from somewhere or other!" This and many other such laments he uttered in such a way that all there began to shed tears. But the delighted companions of Sundarasena comforted the Bhilla king, saying to him, "Is not this much that you recognised the prince before any misfortune had happened? What could you have done after the event had taken place? So why do you despond in the midst of this joy?" Then the king fell at the feet of Sundarasena, and lovingly honoured him, and Sundarasena got him to set all the human victims free. And after he had shown him all due respect, he took him to his village and his friends with him, and proceeded to bandage his wounds and administer medicines to him; and he said to him, "Tell me, prince, what brought you to this place, for I have a great desire to know." Then Sundarasena related to him all his adventures. And that prince of the Savaras, being astonished, said to him, "What a wonderful chain of events! That you should have set out to marry Mandaravatí, and that you should then have been wrecked [453] in the sea, and that this should have led to your reaching the hermitage of Matanga, and to your meeting your beloved there, and that this merchant, in whom you confided, should have carried her off from you, and that you should have entered the wilderness, and have been imprisoned for sacrifice, and recognised by me and delivered from that death--how strangely does all this hang together! Therefore honour by all means to mysteriously working Destiny! And you must not feel anxious about your beloved, for, as Destiny has done all this, she will also do you that other service soon." While the king of the Pulindas was saying this, his commander-in-chief came quickly in a state of high delight, and entering said to him, "King, a certain merchant entered this wilderness with his followers, and he had with him much wealth and a very beautiful lady, a very gem of women; and when I heard of this, I went with an army, and seized him and his followers, with the wealth and the lady, and I have them here outside." When Sundarasena and Vindhyaketu heard this, they said to themselves "Can these be that merchant and Mandáravatí?" And they said, "Let the merchant and the lady be brought in here at once," and thereupon the commander-in-chief brought in that merchant and that lady. When Dridhabuddhi saw them, he exclaimed, "Here is that very princess Mandáravatí, and here is that villain of a merchant. Alas, princess! How came you to be reduced to this state, like a creeper scorched by the heat, with your bud-like lip dried up, and with your flower-ornaments stripped off?" While Dridhabuddhi was uttering this exclamation, Sundarasena rushed forward, and eagerly threw his arms round the neck of his beloved. Then the two lovers wept for a long time, as if to wash off from one another, by the water of a shower of tears, the defilement of separation. Then Vindhyaketu, having consoled them both, said to that merchant, "How came you to carry off the wife of one who confided in you?" Then the merchant said, with a voice trembling with fear, "I have fruitlessly done this to my own destruction, but this holy saint was preserved by her own unapproachable splendour; I was no more able to touch her, than if she had been a flame of fire; and I did intend, villain that I was, to take her to my own country, and after her anger had been allayed, and she had been reconciled to me, to marry her." When the merchant had said this, the king ordered him to be put to death on the spot; but Sundarasena saved him from execution; however he had his abundant wealth confiscated, a heavier loss than that of life; for those that have lost their wealth die daily, not so those that have lost their breath. So Sundarasena had that merchant set at liberty, and the wretched creature went where he would, pleased at having escaped with life; and king Vindhyaketu took Mandáravatí, and went with her and Sundarasena to the palace of his own queen. There he gave orders to his queen, and had Mandáravatí honoured with a bath, with clothes and with unguents, and after Sundarasena had been in the same way bathed and adorned, he made him sit down on a splendid throne, and honoured him with gifts, pearls, musk, and so on. And on account of the reunion of that couple, the king made a great feast, at which all the Savara women danced delighted. Then, the next day, Sundarasena said to the king, "My wounds are healed, and my object is attained, so I will now go hence to my own city; and, please, send off at once to my father a messenger with a letter, to tell the whole story, and announce my arrival." [454] When the Savara chief heard this, he sent off a messenger with a letter, and gave him the message which the prince suggested. And just as the letter-carrier was reaching the city of Alaká, it happened that king Mahásena and his queen, afflicted because they heard no tidings of Sundarasena, were preparing to enter the fire in front of a temple of Siva, surrounded by all the citizens, who were lamenting their approaching loss. Then the Savara, who was bearing the letter, beholding king Mahásena, came running up proclaiming who he was, stained with dust, bow in hand, with his hair tied up in a knot behind with a creeper, black himself, and wearing a loin-cincture of vilva-leaves. That letter-carrier of the king of the Bhillas said, "King, you are blessed with good fortune to-day, as your son Sundarasena has come with Mandáravatí, having escaped from the sea; for he has arrived at the court of my master Vindhyaketu, and is on his way to this place with him, and has sent me on before." Having said this, and thus discharged his confidential commission, the letter-carrier of the Bhilla king laid the letter at the monarch's feet. Then all the people there, being delighted, raised a shout of joy; and the letter was read out, and the whole of the wonderful circumstances became known; and king Mahásena recompensed the letter-carrier, and abandoned his grief, and made great rejoicings, and entered his palace with all his retainers. And the next day, being impatient, he set out to meet his son, whose arrival he expected, accompanied by the king of Hansadvípa. And his force of four arms marched along with him, innumerable, so that the earth trembled, dreading insupportable weight. In the meanwhile Sundarasena set out from that village of the Bhillas for his own home, with Mandáravatí. And he was accompanied by his friends Vikramasakti and Bhímabhuja, whom he found in the prison, and Dridhabuddhi too was with him. He himself rode on a horse swift as the wind, by the side of Vindhyaketu, and seemed by the hosts of Pulindas that followed him, to be exhibiting the earth as belonging to that race. And as he was marching along, in a few days he beheld on the road his father coming to meet him, with his retinue and his connections. Then he got down from his horse, and the people beheld him with joy, and he and his friends went up and fell at the feet of his father. His father, when he beheld his son looking like the full moon, felt like the sea which surges up with throbbings of joy, and overflows its bounds, and could not contain himself for happiness. [455] And when he saw Mandáravatí, his daughter-in-law, bowing at his feet, he considered himself and his family prosperous, and rejoiced. And the king welcomed Dridhabuddhi and the other two ministers of his son, who bowed at his feet, and he received Vindhyaketu with still warmer welcome. Then Sundarasena bowed before his father-in-law Mandáradeva, whom his father introduced to him, and rejoiced exceedingly; and beholding his ministers Chandaprabha and Vyághraparákrama, who had arrived before, clinging to his feet, he considered that all his wishes were accomplished. And immediately king Mahendráditya, who was delighted at hearing what had happened, came there from Sasánkapura out of affection. Then prince Sundarasena, mounted on a splendid horse, escorting his beloved, as Nadakúvara did Rambhá, went with all those to his own home, the city of Alaká, the dwelling-place of all felicities, abounding in virtuous men. And accompanied by his beloved he entered the palace of his father, being sprinkled, as he passed through the city, by the wives of the citizens, who were all crowding to the windows, with the blue lotuses of their eyes. And in the palace he bowed at the feet of his mother, whose eyes were full of tears of joy, and then spent that day in rejoicings, in which all his relations and servants took part. And the next day, in the long desired hour fixed by the astrologers, the prince received the hand of Mandáravatí, who was bestowed on him by her father. And his father-in-law, king Mandáradeva, as he had no son, bestowed on him many priceless jewels, in his joy, and the reversion of his kingdom after his own death. And his father, king Mahásena, without exhausting the earth, made a great feast, in a style suitable to his desires and means, in which all prisoners were released, and a rain of gold was seen. [456] And having beheld Sundarasena prosperous by his union with Mandáravatí, and having taken part in his wedding festivities, in which all the women danced to song, and having been honoured by king Mahásena, king Mandáradeva returned to his own territory, and the king of Sasánkapura returned to that city, and Vindhyaketu, the lord of the great wilderness, returned to his domain. And after some days had elapsed, king Mahásena, perceiving that his son Sundarasena was virtuous and beloved by the subjects, established him in his throne, and went himself to the forest. And prince Sundarasena, having thus obtained the kingdom, and having conquered all his enemies by the might of his arm, ruled with those ministers the whole earth, and found his joy in the possession of Mandáravatí ever increasing. When the minister Vyághrasena had told this story on the bank of the lake to Mrigánkadatta, he went on to say to him, "This wonderful tale, prince, did the hermit Kanva relate to us in the hermitage, and at the end of the tale the compassionate man said to us, to comfort us, 'So, my sons, those who endure with resolute hearts terrible misfortunes hard to struggle through, attain in this way the objects they most desire; but those others, whose energies are paralysed by loss of courage, fail. Therefore abandon this despondency, and go on your way. Your master also, prince Mrigánkadatta, shall recover all his ministers, and shall long rule the earth, after having been united with Sasánkavatí.' When that great hermit had said this to us, we plucked up courage, and spent the night there, and then set out from that hermitage, and in course of time reached this wood, travel-worn. And while here, being tortured with excessive thirst and hunger, we climbed up this tree sacred to Ganesa, to get fruits, and we were ourselves turned into fruits, and we have now, prince, been released from our fruit-transformation by your austerities. Such have been the adventures of us four, during our separation from you [457] brought about by the curse of the Nága; and now that our curse is expired, advance, united with us all, towards the attainment of your object." When Mrigánkadatta had heard all this from his minister Vyághrasena, he conceived hopes of obtaining Sasánkavatí, and so passed that night there. CHAPTER CII. Then, the next morning, Mrigánkadatta rose up from the shore of that beautiful lake, together with all his ministers, who had rejoined him; and in company with them, and the Bráhman Srutadhi, set out for Ujjayiní, to win Sasánkavatí, after he had paid his orisons to that tree of Ganesa. [458] Then the heroic prince, accompanied by his ministers, again crossed various stretches of woodland, which contained many hundreds of lakes, and were black with tamála-trees [459] throughout their whole expanse, looking like nights in the rainy season, when the clouds collect; and others which had their canes broken by terrible infuriated elephants roaming through them, in which the arjuna-trees formed a strong contrast to the tamála-trees, [460] and which thus resembled so many cities of king Viráta; and ravines of mighty mountains, which were pure, though strewn with flowers, and though frequented by subdued hermits, were haunted by fierce beasts; and at last came near the city of Ujjayiní. Then he reached the river Gandhavatí, and dispelled his fatigue by bathing in it, and after crossing it, he arrived with his companions in that cemetery of Mahákála. There he beheld the image of mighty Bhairava, black with the smoke from neighbouring pyres, surrounded with many fragments of bones and skulls, terrible with the skeletons of men which it held in its grasp, worshipped by heroes, frequented by many troops of demons, dear to sporting witches. And after crossing the cemetery, he beheld the city of Ujjayiní, a yuga old, ruled by king Karmasena. Its streets were watched by guards with various weapons, who were themselves begirt by many brave high-born Rájpúts; it was surrounded with ramparts resembling the peaks of mighty mountains; it was crowded with elephants, horses, and chariots, and hard for strangers to enter. When Mrigánkadatta beheld that city, which was thus inaccessible on every side, he turned his face away in despondency, and said to his ministers, "Alas! ill-starred man that I am! though it has cost me hundreds of hardships to reach this city, I cannot even enter it; what chance then have I of obtaining my beloved?" When they heard this, they said to him, "What! do you suppose, prince, that this great city could ever be stormed by us, who are so few in number? We must think of some expedient to serve in this emergency, and an expedient will certainly be found; how comes it that you have forgotten that this expedition has frequently been enjoined by the gods?" When Mrigánkadatta had been thus addressed by his ministers, he remained for some days roaming about outside the city. Then his minister Vikramakesarin called to mind that Vetála, which he had long ago won over, intending to employ him to fetch the prince's love from her dwelling-house. And the Vetála came, black in hue, tall, with a neck like a camel, elephant-faced, with legs like a bull, eyes like an owl, and the ears of an ass. But finding that he could not enter the city, he departed; the favour of Siva secures that city against being invaded by such creatures. Then the Bráhman Srutadhi, who was versed in policy, said to Mrigánkadatta, as he was sitting in gloom, surrounded by his ministers, longing in his heart to enter the city; "Why, prince, though you know the true principles of policy, do you remain bewildered, like one ignorant of them? Who will ever be victorious in this world by disregarding the difference between himself and his foe? For at every one of the four gates of this city, two thousand elephants, twenty-five thousand horses, ten thousand chariots, and a hundred thousand footmen remain harnessed and ready, day and night, to guard it; and they are hard to conquer, being commanded by heroes. So, as for a handful of men, like ourselves, entering it by force, that is a mere chimerical fancy, [461] not a measure calculated to ensure success. Moreover, this city cannot be overthrown by a small force; and a contest with an overwhelming force is like fighting on foot against an elephant. So join with your friend Máyávatu the king of the Pulindas, whom you delivered from the terrible danger of the water-monsters in the Narmadá, and with his friend Durgapisácha the very powerful king of the Mátangas, who is attached to you on account of his alliance with him, [462] and with that king of the Kirátas, named Saktirakshita, who is famous for his valour and has observed a vow of strict chastity from his youth upwards, and let them all bring their forces, and then do you, thus strengthened by allies, fill every quarter with your hosts, and so accomplish the object you have in view. Moreover, the king of the Kirátas is awaiting your coming from a distance in accordance with your agreement; how have you come to forget this? And no doubt, Máyávatu is ready awaiting your arrival, in the territory of [463] the king of the Mátangas, for you made this agreement with him. So let us go to the castle named Karabhagríva, on the southern slope of the Vindhyas, in which that chief of the Mátangas dwells. And let us summon there Saktirakshita, the king of the Kirátas, and united with them all make a fortunate expedition with every chance of success. When Mrigánkadatta and his ministers heard this speech of Srutadhi's, which was full of sense and such as the wise would approve, they eagerly accepted it, saying, "So be it." And the next day the prince adored that unresting traveller of the sky, the sun, the friend of the virtuous, that had just arisen, revealing every quarter of the world, [464] and set out for the abode of Durgapisácha king of the Mátangas on the southern slope of the Vindhya range. And his ministers Bhímaparákrama, and Vyághrasena, and Gunákara, and Meghabala with Vimalabuddhi, and Sthúlabáhu with Vichitrakatha, and Vikramakesarin, and Prachandasakti, and Srutadhi and Dridhamushti followed him. With them he successively crossed forests wide-ranging as his own undertakings, and stretches of woodland profound as his own schemes, with no better refuge at night than the root of a tree [465] on the shore of a lake, and reached and ascended the Vindhya mountain lofty as his own soul. Then the prince went from the summit of the mountain down its southern slope, and beholding afar off the villages of the Bhillas full of elephants' tusks and deer-skins, he said to himself, "How am I to know where the dwelling of that king of the Mátangas is?" While engaged in such reflections, he and his ministers saw a hermit boy come towards them, and after doing obeisance to him, they said, "Fair Sir, do you know in what part of this region the palace of Durgapisácha, the king of the Mátangas, is? For we wish to see him." When that good young ascetic heard this, he said, "Only a kos distant from this place is a spot called Panchavatí, and not far from it was the hermitage of the hermit Agastya, who with small effort cast down from heaven the haughty king Nahusha; where Ráma, who by command of his father took up his dwelling in a forest, accompanied by Lakshmana and his wife Sítá, long waited on that hermit; where Kabandha, [466] who guided Ráma to the slaughter of the Rákshasas, proceeded to attack Ráma and Lakshmana, as Ráhu does the sun and moon, whose arm a yojana in length Ráma felled, so that it resembled Nahusha in his serpent form, come to supplicate Agastya; where even now the Rákshasas hearing the roaring of the clouds at the beginning of the rainy season, call to mind the twanging of the bow of Ráma; where the aged deer, that were fed by Sítá, beholding the regions deserted in every direction, with eyes filling with tears, reject the mouthful of grass; where Márícha, who brought about Sítá's separation from her husband, assumed the form of a golden deer and enticed away Ráma, as if to save from slaughter those deer, that were still left alive; where, in many a great lake full of the water of the Káverí, it appears as if Agastya had vomited up in driblets the sea that he swallowed. Not far from that hermitage, on a table-land of the Vindhya, is a stronghold tangled and inaccessible, named Karabhagríva. In it dwells that mighty Durgapisácha of terrible valour, chief of the Mátangas, whom kings cannot conquer. And he commands a hundred thousand bowmen of that tribe, every one of whom is followed by five hundred warriors. With the aid of those brigands he robs caravans, destroys his enemies, and enjoys this great forest, caring nought for this or that king. [467] When Mrigánkadatta had heard this from the young hermit, he took leave of him, and went quickly, with his companions, in the direction indicated by him, and in course of time he arrived in the environs of Karabhagríva that stronghold of the king of the Mátangas, which were crowded with Bhilla villages. And within them he beheld near at hand on every side crowds of Savaras, adorned with peacocks' feathers and elephants' teeth, clothed in tigers' skins, and living on the flesh of deer. When Mrigánkadatta saw those Bhillas, he said to his ministers, "See! these men live a wild forest life like animals, and yet, strange to say, they recognise Durgapisácha as their king. There is no race in the world without a king; I do believe the gods introduced this magical name among men in their alarm, fearing that otherwise the strong would devour the weak, as great fishes eat the little." [468] And while he was saying this, and trying to find the path that led to the stronghold Karabhagríva, the scouts of Máyávatu, the king of the Savaras, who had already arrived there, recognized him, having seen him before. They immediately went and told that Máyávatu of his arrival; and he with his army went to meet him. And when that king of the Pulindas came near, and saw the prince, he alighted from his horse, and ran forward, and fell at his feet. And he embraced the prince, who asked after his health, and then mounted him and his ministers on horses, and brought them to his own camp. And that king of the Savaras sent his own warder to inform the king of the Mátangas of the prince's arrival. And Durgapisácha, the king of the Mátangas, quickly came there from his own place, and his appearance justified his name. [469] He seemed like a second Vindhya range, for his body was firm as a rocky peak, his hue was black as tamála, and Pulindas lay at his foot. His face was rendered terrible by a natural three-furrowed frown, and so he appeared as if Durgá, the dweller in the Vindhya range, had marked him with the trident, to claim him as her own. Though young, he had seen the death of many "secular birds;" though black, he was not comely; and he crouched to none, though he hugged the foot of a mountain. [470] Like a fresh cloud, he displayed the peacock tail and the gay-coloured bow; like Hiranyáksha, [471] his body was scarred by the furious boar; like Ghatotkacha, he was mighty and possessed a haughty and terrible shape; [472] like the Kali age, he allowed those born under his sway to take pleasure in wickedness and break through the bonds of rule. And the mass of his host came filling the earth, like the stream of the Narmadá, when let loose from the embrace of Arjuna. [473] And so the aggregated army of the Chandálas moved on, blackening all the horizon with a dark hue, making those who beheld it say in perplexity to themselves "Can this be a mass of rock that has rolled down from the Anjana mountain, [474] or is it a premature bank of the clouds of the day of doom, that has descended upon the earth?" And their chief Durgapisácha came up to Mrigánkadatta, placing his head upon the ground even when at a distance, and bowed before him, and said "To-day the goddess Durgá is pleased with me, in that your Highness, of such a noble race, has come to my house. On that account I consider myself fortunate and successful. When the king of the Mátangas had said this, he gave him a present of pearls, musk, and other rarities. And the prince kindly accepted it with the usual courtesies. Then they all encamped there. That great forest was covered all over with elephants fastened to posts, with horses in stables, and tented footmen; and was scarcely able to contain itself, being confused with its good fortune in thus being assimilated to a city, which was unprecedented in the course of its existence. Then, in that wood, when Mrigánkadatta had bathed in the river for good fortune, and had taken food, and was sitting at his ease, in a secluded spot, surrounded by his ministers, Máyávatu also being present, Durgapisácha said to Mrigánkadatta, in the course of conversation, speaking in a tone softened by affection and regard, "This king Máyávatu came here a long time ago, and has been remaining here with me, my lord, awaiting your orders. So where, my prince, have you all remained so long? And what have you done? Tell me, now, the business that detained you." When the prince heard this speech of his, he said, "After I had left the palace of our friend here Máyávatu, with Vimalabuddhi and Gunákara, and Srutadhi, and Bhímaparákrama, whom I had also recovered, I found on my way this Prachandasakti and Vichitrakatha, and in course of time also this Vikramakesarin. Then these men here found on the borders of a beautiful lake a tree sacred to Ganesa, and climbed up it to pick its fruit, and so were turned into fruits themselves by the curse of the god. Then I propitiated Ganesa, and not without difficulty set them free, and at the same time I delivered these other four ministers of mine, Dridhamushti and Vyághrasena and Meghabala and Sthúlabáhu, who had previously suffered the same transformation. With all these, thus recovered, I went to Ujjayiní; but the gates were guarded, and we could not even enter the town; much less could we think of any device for carrying off Sasánkavatí. And as I had no army with me, I had no locus standi for sending an ambassador. So we deliberated together, and came here to you. Now, my friend, you and your allies have to decide whether we shall attain our end or no." When Mrigánkadatta had related his adventures in these words, Durgapisácha and Máyávatu said, "Be of good courage; this is but a little matter for us to accomplish at once; our lives were originally created for your sake. We will bring here that king Karmasena in chains, and we will carry off his daughter Sasánkavatí by force." When the king of the Mátangas and Máyávatu said this, Mrigánkadatta said lovingly and very respectfully, "What will you not be able to accomplish, for this resolute courage of yours is a sufficient guarantee that you will carry out that furtherance of your friend's interests which you have undertaken. When the Creator made you here, he infused into your composition qualities borrowed from your surroundings, the firmness of the Vindhya hills, the courage of the tigers, and the warm attachment to friends of the forest [475] lotuses. So deliberate and do what is fitting." While Mrigánkadatta was saying this, the sun retired to rest on the summit of the mountain of setting. Then they also rested that night in the royal camp, as was meet, sleeping in booths made by the workmen. And the next morning Mrigánkadatta sent off Gunákara to bring his friend Saktirakshita, the king of the Kirátas. He went and communicated the state of affairs to that sovereign; and in a very few days the king of the Kirátas returned with him, bringing a very large force. Ten hundred thousand footmen, and two hundred thousand horse, and a myriad of furious elephants on which heroes were mounted, and eighty-eight thousand chariots followed that king, who darkened the heaven with his banners and his umbrella. And Mrigánkadatta, with his friends and ministers, went to meet him in high spirits and honoured him and conducted him into the camp. And in the meanwhile other friends and relations of the king of the Mátangas, and all those of king Máyávatu, having been summoned by messengers, came in. [476] And the camp swelled like the ocean, giving joy to the heart of Mrigánkadatta: with shouts rising up like the roar of the waves, and hundreds of battalions pouring in like rivers. And Durgapisácha honoured [477] those assembled kings with musk, and garments, and pieces of flesh, and spirits distilled from fruits. And Máyávatu the king of the Savaras gave them all splendid baths, unguents, food, drink, and beds. And Mrigánkadatta sat down to eat with all those kings who were seated in their proper places. [478] He even went so far as to make the king of the Mátangas eat in his presence though at a little distance from him: the fact is, it is necessity and place and time that take precedence, not one man of another. And the next day, when the newly arrived force of Kirátas and others had rested, Mrigánkadatta, sitting on a throne of ivory in the assembly of the kings, where he had been duly honoured, after he had had the place cleared of attendants, said to his friends, the king of the Mátangas, and the others, "Why do we now delay? Why do we not quickly march towards Ujjayiní with the whole of this force?" When the Bráhman Srutadhi heard this, he said to that prince, "Listen prince, I now speak according to the opinion of those who know policy. A king who wishes to be victorious must first see the distinction between what is practicable and what is not practicable. What cannot be accomplished by an expedient, he should reject as impracticable. That is practicable which can be accomplished by an expedient. Now expedients in this matter are of four kinds, and are enumerated as conciliation, gifts, division and force. This order represents their comparative advantages, the first being better than the second, and so on. So, my prince, you ought first to make use of conciliation in this business. For, as king Karmasena is not greedy of gain, gifts are not likely to succeed; nor is division likely to be of any use, for none of his servants are angry, or covetous, or indignant with him, on account of having been treated with neglect. As for force, its employment is risky; as that king lives in a difficult country, has a very formidable army, and has never been conquered by any king before. Moreover even mighty ones cannot always be assured of having the fortune of victory on their side in battles; besides, it is not becoming in one, who is a suitor for a maiden's hand, to slaughter her relations. So let us send an ambassador to that monarch, adopting the method of conciliation. If that does not succeed, the method of force shall be employed as being unavoidable." All there, when they heard this speech of Srutadhi's, approved it, and praised his statesmanship. Then Mrigánkadatta deliberated with them all, and sent a servant of the king of the Kirátas, a noble Bráhman, Suvigraha by name, who possessed all the requisites of a diplomatist, to king Karmasena, as an ambassador to communicate the result of their deliberations, and he carried with him a letter, and was also entrusted with a verbal message. The ambassador went to Ujjayiní, and, being introduced by the warder, entered the king's palace, the interior of which looked very magnificent, as its zones were crowded with splendid horses, and with elephants; and he saw that king Karmasena, sitting on his throne, surrounded by his ministers. He did obeisance to that sovereign, who welcomed him; and after he had sat down, and his health had been enquired after, he proceeded to deliver to him his letter. And the king's minister, named Prajnákosa, took it, and broke the seal, and unfolding the letter, proceeded to read it out to the following effect. "All-Hail! The auspicious Mrigánkadatta, ornament of the circle of the earth, son of the great king of kings who is lord of the city of Ayodhyá, the fortunate Amaradatta, from the slope of the forest at the foot of the castle of Karabhagríva, where he now is, with kings submissive and obedient to him, sends this plain message to the great king Karmasena in Ujjayiní, who is the moon of the sea of his own race, with all due respect; You have a daughter, and you must without fail give her to another, so give her to me; for she has been declared by the gods a suitable wife for me. In this way we shall become allies, and our former enmity will be at an end; if you do not consent, I will appeal to my own strong arms to give me this object of my desires." When the letter had been thus read by the minister Prajnákosa, king Karmasena, inflamed with rage, said to his ministers, "These people are always hostile to us; and observe, this man, not knowing his place, has on the present occasion worded his communication in an objectionable form. He has put himself first and me last, out of contempt; and at the end the conceited fellow has bragged of the might of his arm. So, I do not consider that I ought to send any reply; as for giving him my daughter, that is out of the question. Depart, ambassador; let your master do what he can." [479] When king Karmasena said this, that Bráhman ambassador Suvigraha, being a man of spirit, gave him an answer well-suited to the occasion, "Fool, you boast now, because you have not seen that prince; make ready; when be arrives, you will learn the difference between yourself and your opponent." When the ambassador said this, the whole court was in a state of excitement; but the king, though in wrath, said, "Away with you! Your person is inviolable, so what can we do?" Then some of those present, biting their lips, and wringing their hands together, said one to another, "Why do we not follow him and kill him this moment." But others, being masters of themselves, said, "Let the young fool of a Bráhman go! why do you trouble yourselves about the speech of this babbler? We will shew what we can do." Others again, appearing to foreshadow by their frowns the speedy bending of their bows, remained silent, with faces red with rage. The whole court being thus incensed, the ambassador Suvigraha went out, and repaired to Mrigánkadatta in his camp. He told him and his friends what Karmasena had said; and the prince, when he heard it, ordered the army to march. Then the sea of soldiers, set in motion by the order of the commander, as by a violent gust of wind, in which men, horses, and elephants moved like bounding sea-monsters, exciting satisfaction in the mind of the allied monarchs, [480] assumed an agitation terrifying to the minds of timid men. Then Mrigánkadatta, making the earth miry with the foam of high-mettled horses, and the frontal ichor of elephants, and deafening the world with the noise of his drums, moved on slowly to Ujjayiní to victory. CHAPTER CIII. Then Mrigánkadatta, accompanied by his friends, crossed the Vindhya range, and with his army ready for battle, reached the frontier of Ujjayiní. When the brave king Karmasena heard that, he also made ready for the fight, and with his army moved out from the city to meet him. And when those two armies came to close quarters, and could see one another, a battle took place between them, that gladdened heroes. The battlefield seemed like the dwelling-place of Hiranyakasipu, as it was full of timid demons dispersed in terror by the roar of the Man-lion; [481] the continued dense showers of arrows flying through the air, and cutting one another, descended on brave warriors, like locusts on the tender herb. Dense clouds of pearls gleamed as they sprang from the frontal globes of elephants struck with swords, resembling the necklace of the Fortune of that battle broken in her agitation. That place of combat appeared like the mouth of Death; and the sharp points of spears, that seized on men, horses, and elephants, were like his fangs. The heads of strong-armed warriors, cut off with crescent-headed arrows, flew up to heaven, as if leaping up [482] to kiss the heavenly nymphs; and at every moment trunks of brave heroes danced, as if in delight at the battle of their noble leader being gloriously illuminated; and so for five days that hero-destroying battle went on, with flowing rivers of blood, rich in mountains of heads. And in the evening of the fifth day the Bráhman Srutadhi came secretly to Mrigánkadatta when he was closeted with his ministers, and said to him, "While you were engaged in fighting, I went away from the camp, in the disguise of a mendicant, and entered Ujjayiní, the gates of which were almost deserted; and now listen; I will tell you truly what I observed, being myself all the while, though near at hand, unseen in virtue of my knowledge. As soon as king Karmasena went out to battle, Sasánkavatí with the permission of her mother also left the palace, and repaired to a temple of Gaurí in that city, to propitiate the goddess, in order to ensure her father's success in the combat. And while she was there, she said in secret to a devoted confidante 'My friend, it is for my sake, that my father has become involved in this war. And if he is conquered, he will give me to that prince; for kings disregard love for offspring altogether, when the interests of their kingdoms are at stake. And I do not know whether that prince is a suitable match for me in respect of personal appearance, or not. I would sooner meet my death than marry an ugly husband. I think a good-looking husband, even though poor, is to be preferred to an ugly one, though he be emperor over the whole earth. So you must go to the army and see what he is like, and then return. For, my fortunate friend, Prudence [483] is your name, and Prudence is your nature.' "When the princess had given this order to her confidante, that girl managed to come to our camp, and after seeing you, prince, went and said to that princess, 'My friend, I can say nothing but this; even Vásuki [484] himself has not got a tongue able to describe the beauty of that prince. So far however I can give you an idea of it: as there is no woman in the world equal to you in good looks, so there is no man equal to him. But alas! that is but a feeble description of him; I believe in these three worlds there is no Siddha, or Gandharva, or god like him.' By this speech of her confidante's Sasánkavatí's heart was fixed on you, and at the same moment it was nailed to you by the god of love with his arrows. And from that time forth she has remained desiring the welfare of you and also of her father, becoming gradually attenuated by penance and the grief of separation from you." "So go secretly this very night, and carry off that princess from that sanctuary of Gaurí, which is now unfrequented, and bring her here without being observed. Let her be conveyed to the palace of Máyávatu; and then these kings, after securing your rear against the fury of the foe, shall come there with me. Let this fighting be put an end to. Do not allow any further slaughter of soldiers. And ensure the personal safety of yourself and the king your father-in-law. For war, that involves a great waste of human life, is an inexpedient expedient, and sages affirm it to be the worst of all political measures." When Srutadhi had said this to Mrigánkadatta, that prince and his ministers mounted their horses and set out secretly at night. And the prince arrived at the city of Ujjayiní, in which only women, and children, and sleepy men were left, and entered it easily, as the gates were kept by only a few drowsy guards. [485] And then he proceeded to that famous sanctuary of Gaurí, which was easily discovered by the description which Srutadhi had given of it. It was situated in a great garden called Pushpakarnda, and was just then illuminated by the rays of the moon, which at that time adorned the face of the East. [486] In the meanwhile Sasánkavatí, who remained sleepless, though her companions, worn out by attendance and other fatigues, were sleeping around her, was saying to herself; "Alas! for my sake brave kings and princes and heroes are being slain every day in battle in both these armies. Moreover, that prince, who has appealed to the ordeal of battle for my sake, was long ago designated as my husband by the goddess Durgá in a dream; and the god of love has with unfailing aim cut out my heart with a continual shower [487] of arrows, and taken it, and presented it to him. But, ill-starred girl that I am, my father will not give me to that prince, on account of the previous enmity between them, and his own pride; so much I gathered from his letter. So what is the use of a sure revelation by a goddess in a dream, when Fate is adverse? The fact is, I see no chance of obtaining my beloved in any way. So, why should I not abandon my hopeless life, before I hear of some misfortune happening to my father or to my lover in battle? [488]" With these words she rose up, and in her grief went in front of the image of Gaurí and made a noose with her outer garment, fastening it to an asoka-tree. In the meanwhile Mrigánkadatta, with his companions, entered that garden and fastened his horse to a tree in front of the temple and sanctuary of Gaurí. Then Mrigánkadatta's minister Vimalabuddhi, seeing the princess near, said of his own accord to the prince, "Look prince, here is some lovely girl trying to hang herself; now, who can she be?" When the prince heard that, he looked at her and said, "Dear me! who can this girl be? Is she the goddess Rati? Or is she happiness incarnate in bodily form? Or is she the beauty of the moon, having taken shape, [489] or the command of Cupid living and walking? Or is she a nymph of heaven? No, that cannot be. For what can make heavenly nymphs desire to hang themselves? So let us remain here for a time concealed by the trees, until we find out for certain, somehow or other, who she is." When he had said this, he and his ministers remained there in concealment; and in the meanwhile the despondent Sasánkavatí offered this prayer to the goddess, "O adorable Gaurí that deliverest the afflicted from their pain, grant that, though, owing to my sins in a former state of existence, prince Mrigánkadatta has not become my husband in this birth, he may become such in a future life." When the princess had said this, she bowed before the goddess, and fastened the noose round her neck with eyes moist with tears. At that moment her companions woke up, and distressed at not seeing her, began to look for her, and quickly came where she was. And they said, "Alas, friend, what is this that you have undertaken? Out on your rashness!" With these words they removed the noose from her neck. So, while the girl was standing there ashamed and despondent, a voice came from the inner shrine of Gaurí's temple, "Do not despond, my daughter Sasánkavatí; that word, fair one, that I spake to thee in a dream, cannot prove false. Here is that husband of thine in a former life, Mrigánkadatta, come to thy side; go and enjoy with him the whole earth." When Sasánkavatí heard this sudden utterance, she slowly looked aside a little confused, and at that moment Vikramakesarin, the minister of Mrigánkadatta, came up to her, and pointing out the prince with his finger, said to her, "Princess, Bhavání has told you the truth, for here is the prince, your future husband, come to you, drawn by the cords of love." When the princess heard that, she cast a sidelong glance, and beheld that noble lover of hers [490] standing in the midst of his companions, looking like the moon having descended from heaven begirt by the planets, like the standard by which beauty is tested in others, raining nectar into the eyes. Then she remained motionless as a pillar, and every hair stood erect with joy on all her limbs, so that they appeared to be covered with the feathers at the end of Cupid's arrows raining upon her; and at that moment Mrigánkadatta came up to her, and in order to dispel her shame, he addressed to her, with a voice raining the honey of love, the following speech appropriate to the occasion, [491] "Fair one, you have made me leave my own country and kingdom and relations, and brought me from a distance, enslaving me and binding me with the chain of your virtues. So now I have gained this fruit of my dwelling in the forest, and of my sleeping on the ground, and of my living on wild fruits, and enduring the fierce heat of the sun, and of my emaciation with asceticism, that I have beheld this form of yours which rains nectar into my eyes. And if you love me enough to care to please me, bestow also, gazelle-eyed one, that feast of the eyes upon the ladies of our city. Let the war cease; let the welfare of both armies be ensured; let my birth be made a success, and let my father's blessing be gained for me at the same time!" When Mrigánkadatta had said this to Sasánkavatí, she slowly answered with eyes fixed on the ground, "I indeed have been purchased with your virtues and made your slave, so do, my husband, what you think will be for our good." When Mrigánkadatta had been refreshed by this nectar-like speech of hers, and saw that his point was gained, he praised the goddess Gaurí and bowed before her, and then he made the princess get up behind him on his horse, and his ten [492] brave ministers mounted and took her ladies-in-waiting up behind them; and then the prince, with his sword drawn, set out from that city at night, accompanied by them sword in hand. And though the city-guards saw those eleven heroes, they did not dare to stop them, for they looked as formidable as so many angry Rudras. And leaving Ujjayiní, they went with Sasánkavatí to the palace of Máyávatu, in accordance with the advice of Srutadhi. While the guards were exclaiming in their distraction, "Who are these, and whither are they gone?" it gradually became known in Ujjayiní that the princess had been carried off. And the queen-consort hurriedly despatched the governor of the city to the camp, to tell king Karmasena what had taken place. But in the meanwhile the head of the scouts came to king Karmasena in the camp there at night, and and said to him, "King, Mrigánkadatta and his ministers left the army secretly in the early part of this night, and went on horseback to Ujjayiní, to carry off Sasánkavatí, who is in the temple of Gaurí. So much I have discovered for certain; your Highness knows what step it is now desirable to take." When king Karmasena heard this, he sent for his general, and communicated to him privately the information he had received, and said to him, "Choose five hundred swift horses, and set picked men on them, and go with them secretly and rapidly to Ujjayiní, and wherever you find that villain Mrigánkadatta, kill him, or make him prisoner: know that I will follow you quickly, leaving my army behind me." When the general received this order from the king, he said, "So be it," and set out by night for Ujjayiní with the prescribed force. And on the way he met the governor of the town, from whom he heard that the princess had been carried off by some daring men in another direction. Then he returned with the governor of the town, and told king Karmasena what had taken place. When the king heard it, he thought it impossible, and remained quiet during the night, without making an attack. And in the camp of Mrigánkadatta Máyávatu and the other kings passed the night under arms, by the advice of Srutadhi. And next morning the sagacious king Karmasena found out the real state of the case, and sent off an ambassador to the kings in the camp of Mrigánkadatta, and he instructed the ambassador to give this message by word of mouth, "Mrigánkadatta has carried off my daughter by a stratagem; never mind that; for what other man would be as suitable a match for her? So now let him come to my palace, and do you come too, in order that I may celebrate my daughter's marriage with appropriate ceremonies." [493] And the kings and Srutadhi approved of this proposal, [494] and said to the ambassador, "Then let your master retire to his own city, and we will ourselves go and bring the prince there." When the ambassador heard that proposal, he went and reported it to his master, and Karmasena agreed to it, and left for Ujjayiní with his army. When the kings saw that, they went, with Máyávatu at their head, and accompanied by Srutadhi, to Mrigánkadatta. And in the meanwhile Mrigánkadatta, with Sasánkavatí, had reached the palace of Máyávatu in the city of Kánchanapura. There the queens of Máyávatu welcomed him, and his companions, and his beloved, with becoming hospitality, and he rested there with them, having successfully accomplished his object. And the next day the kings came there with Srutadhi; the heroic king of the Kirátas Saktirakshita with his army, and the mighty king Máyávatu leader of the Savaras, and the hero Durgapisácha lord of the host of the Mátangas; and all of them, when they beheld Mrigánkadatta united to Sasánkavatí like the white water-lily to the night, rejoiced and congratulated him. And after they had shewn him the honour he deserved, they told him the message of Karmasena, and how he had gone to his own palace. Then Mrigánkadatta, having established there his camp, that was like a moving city, sat down with them all to take counsel. And he said to the kings and to his ministers, "Tell me; shall I go to Ujjayiní to be married, or not?" And they with one accord gave the following answer, "That king is a villain; so how can a visit to his palace turn out well? [495] Moreover, there is no need of it, as his daughter has arrived here." Then Mrigánkadatta said to the Bráhman Srutadhi, "Why do you remain silent, Bráhman, like one taking no interest in the proceedings? Tell me, do you approve of this step or not?" Then Srutadhi said, "If you will listen, I will tell you what I think: my opinion is that you ought to go to the palace of Karmasena. For he sent you this message because he saw no other way out of the difficulty; otherwise, how would a powerful prince like that, when his daughter had been carried off, give up fighting, and go home? Moreover, what could he do to you, when you arrived at his court, since you would take your army with you? On the contrary, if you go there, he will be well-disposed to you, and he will again be one of your chief allies out of love for his daughter. The reason he makes this proposal, which is a perfectly legitimate one, is that he does not wish his daughter to be married in an irregular manner. So I think it advisable that you should go to Ujjayiní." When Srutadhi said this, all, who were present, approved his speech, and said, "Bravo! Bravo!" Then Mrigánkadatta said to them, "I admit the truth of all this; but I do not like to marry without my father and mother. So let some one be sent off from this place to summon my father and mother: and when I have learnt their wish, I will do what is proper." When the hero had said this, he took the advice of his friends, and then and there sent off his minister Bhímaparákrama to his parents. And in the meanwhile his father, king Amaradatta, in the city of Ayodhyá, found out in course of time from his subjects that the charge which Vinítamati brought against the prince, and which caused his banishment from his native land, was wholly groundless. Then, in his wrath, he put to death that wicked minister and his family, and fell into a pitiable state, being terribly afflicted on account of the banishment of his son. And he left his capital, and remained in a sanctuary of Siva, outside the city, called Nandigráma; and there he and his wives gave themselves up to severe asceticism. After he had remained there some time, Bhímaparákrama, whose approach was announced by scouts, arrived, thanks to the speed of his swift horse, at the city of Ayodhyá. He beheld that city plunged in despair, on account of the absence of the prince, as if it were once more going through the painful agitation caused by the exile of Ráma. Thence he went to Nandigráma, surrounded by citizens who asked him for news of the prince, and hearing from their mouths what had happened to the king. There he beheld king Amaradatta, with his body emaciated by asceticism, surrounded by his queens, eager for news of his beloved son. Bhímaparákrama went up to him and fell at his feet: and the king embraced him, and asked for news of his son; and thereupon Bhímaparákrama said to him with tears; "Your son Mrigánkadatta has won by his valour the princess Sasánkavatí, the daughter of king Karmasena. But, as he is devoted to his parents, it does not seem at all becoming to him to marry her, unless the king and the queen can be present at the ceremony. So your son, placing his head upon the ground, has sent me to request you to come to him. And he awaits your Highness's arrival, in Kánchanapura, in the palace of king Máyávatu, the monarch of the Savaras. Now hear the story of our adventures." And thereupon Bhímaparákrama began with the banishment of his master, and related all his various and wonderful adventures, involving the long story of the misfortunes of their forest sojourn and their separation, with the war, and winding up with the prince's reconciliation with Karmasena. When king Amaradatta heard that, he made up his mind that it was well with his son, and in his joy he announced that he would set out that moment. He mounted an elephant, and accompanied by his queen, his subject kings, and his ministers, and followed by a force of elephants and cavalry, he started full of eagerness to join his son. And travelling uninterruptedly, the king reached in a few days his son's camp, that was pitched in the territory of the monarch of the Savaras. And when Mrigánkadatta, who had long been yearning for his father, heard of his approach, he went out to meet him with all the kings. And he saw him from a distance, and dismounted from his horse, and fell at the feet of his father, who was seated on an elephant, and at the feet of his mother. And when embraced by his father, he filled with his body his clasping arms, with satisfaction his heart, and his eyes with tears. His mother too folded him in a long embrace, and looking at him again and again, was for some time unable to let him go, as if fearing a second separation. And Mrigánkadatta introduced to his father Amaradatta the kings his friends, and they bowed before him and the queen. And that couple, the king and the queen, received lovingly those friends who had stood by their only son in his difficulties. Then Amaradatta entered the palace of Máyávatu, and saw Sasánkavatí, his future daughter-in-law, who bowed at his feet. And after accepting a present, he departed with the queen and that daughter-in-law, and took up his quarters in his own camp. And there he took food with his son and all the kings, and spent that day agreeably with song, music, and dancing. And he thought that all his objects in life had been gained, thanks to his son Mrigánkadatta, the future emperor, who had attained so much glory. And in the meanwhile the wise king Karmasena, after deliberating, sent off an ambassador to Mrigánkadatta with the following message, which was contained in a letter, and also intended to be delivered by word of mouth; "I know that you will not come to Ujjayiní; so I will send to you my own son Sushena; he will bestow on you with due ceremonies his sister Sasánkavatí; so you ought not, blameless one, to marry her in an irregular manner, if you value my friendship." And when the prince had heard this message delivered in the royal hall of audience, his father the king himself gave this answer to the ambassador; "Who but king Karmasena would send such a gracious message? That excellent monarch is truly well-disposed to us; so let him send here his son Sushena; we will so order matters as that his daughter's marriage shall give him satisfaction." When the king had given this answer and dismissed the messenger with due honours, he said to his son, and Srutadhi, and the kings, "We had better go now to Ayodhyá; that is the place where the marriage can be performed with most éclat; and there we can entertain Sushena with becoming magnificence. And let king Máyávatu wait here for Sushena; when that prince arrives he can come on after us to Ayodhyá with him. But we will go on in front to make the necessary preparations for the marriage." And all present approved this speech of the king's. Then, the next day, the king with the queen and his soldiers, and Mrigánkadatta with the kings and his ministers, started off with Sasánkavatí, exulting in their success, leaving Máyávatu to wait there for Sushena. Their army moved on like a deep and terrible sea, agitated with hundreds of waves in the form of troops of bounding horses, filling all the horizon with a flood of countless marching footmen, rendering all other sounds inaudible with the confused din that arose from it. And gradually advancing, father and son reached the palace of Saktirakshita the king of the Kirátas, that lay in their course. There they and their attendants were courteously and generously welcomed with heaps of valuable jewels, gold, and splendid garments. And they stayed there one day with their army, taking food and resting, and then they set out and reached in course of time their city of Ayodhyá. It seemed like a lake in windy weather, as they entered it: for the ladies of the city that had climbed up to the windows of the palaces, as they moved to and fro, seemed like swaying full-blown lotuses, sending forth shoots of beauty; and their rolling eyes eager to behold the prince, who after a long absence had returned, bringing a bride with him, were like dancing blue lilies; it was crowded with assembling kingly swans; and tossing with wavy banners. And father and son looked grand, as they sat on thrones, being blessed by the Bráhmans, praised by heralds, and hymned by bards. And when the people there saw the great beauty of Sasánkavatí, they exclaimed in their astonishment, "If they were to behold this daughter of Karmasena, the Ocean would cease to boast of the beauty of his daughter Lakshmí, and the Himálaya would no longer pride himself on Gaurí." And then, when the festival came on, the quarters, re-echoing the sound of the auspicious drums of rejoicing, as it were, gave notice to the kings. And the whole city was full of exultation, and the vermilion colours that covered it throughout, seemed like its red glow of affection overflowing in external form. The next day the astrologers fixed an auspicious date for the prince's marriage, and his father king Amaradatta began to make preparations for it. And the city was filled so full of various jewels, coming from all quarters, that it put to shame the city of Kuvera. And soon a servant of king Máyávatu's came to the sovereign in high spirits, introduced by the warder, and said to him, "King, prince Sushena and king Máyávatu have arrived, and they are both waiting on the frontier of this realm of Ayodhyá." When king Amaradatta heard that, he sent his own general with a body of soldiers to meet Sushena. And Mrigánkadatta, out of regard for his friend, also went out with the general from Ayodhyá to meet the prince. And both of those princes dismounted, while yet a great distance apart, and met together, embracing one another and asking after one another's health. And out of love they entered the city in the same chariot, giving a great feast to the eyes of the ladies of the city. And there Sushena had an interview with the king, and was received by him with much respect, and then he went to the private apartments of his sister Sasánkavatí. There she rose up weeping and embraced him, and he sat down, and said to the princess who was overwhelmed with shame, "My father directs me to tell you that you have done nothing unbecoming, for he has just come to learn that prince Mrigánkadatta was appointed your husband by the goddess Gaurí in a dream, and it is the highest duty of women to follow the steps of their husbands." When he said this to the girl, she dismissed her shame, looking at her heart with downcast face, as if to tell it that its desire was gained. Then Sushena brought and gave to Sasánkavatí in the presence of the king her own accumulated wealth; two thousand bháras [496] of gold, five camels heavily laden with jewelled ornaments, and another treasure of gold. And he said, "This is her own private property, but, as for what her father has sent, I will give it her in due course at the marriage altar." Then they all ate and drank, and spent the day there in the king's presence in great comfort, with Mrigánkadatta and his suite. The next day dawned, the day fixed as auspicious, and Mrigánkadatta performed his own daily ceremony, of bathing and so on; in which the king himself displayed the utmost interest, in his joy at the occasion. And then Sasánkavatí, though her beauty was sufficient bridal ornament, was solemnly adorned by the ladies, only out of regard for the good old custom, not because anything of the kind was needed. Then the bride and bridegroom left the room in which the previous ceremony took place, and in which Sushena presided, and ascended the altar-platform, where a fire was burning. And on it the prince received the hand of the princess, which was resplendent with the hues of a lotus that she held, as Vishnu the hand of Lakshmí. And when they circumambulated the fire, the face of Sasánkavatí was red and tearful from heat and smoke, though anger was far from her. And the handfuls of parched grain, thrown into the fire, appeared like the laughs of the god of Love, pleased with the success of his scheme. And when the first handful was thrown, Sushena gave five thousand horses, and a hundred elephants, and two hundred bháras of gold, and twenty camels laden with loads of splendid raiment, valuable gems, and pearl-ornaments. And at each subsequent sprinkling of grain, Sasánkavatí's brother gave her a portion of the wealth gained by the conquest of the earth, double that given at the preceding. Then Mrigánkadatta, the auspicious ceremony of his marriage having been performed, entered his own palace with his newly married bride, Sasánkavatí, while the sound of festal drums rose in the air. And the king, his father, gratified his ministers and the citizens of his capital, with presents of elephants, horses, garments, ornaments, meat, and drink, suited to the worth of the recipient, beginning with the circle of dependent monarchs, and ending with the parrots and pet mainas. And the king displayed on this occasion such exceedingly lavish generosity that even the trees had garments and gems fastened to them, and presented the appearance of earthly wishing-trees. Then the king and Mrigánkadatta feasted with the kings and Sasánkavatí and Sushena, and spent the rest of the day in a wine-party. Then, after the inhabitants of the palace had eaten and drunk well, and enjoyed music and dancing, the sun, having accomplished his journey, and having drunk up the moisture of the earth, entered the cavern of the western mountain. And the glory of the day, seeing that he had departed somewhere or other with the evening that was all ablaze with a warm glow, ran after him in a fit of jealous anger, and the birds flying to and fro seemed like her agitated zone. [497] And then in due course appeared advancing the wanton nymph Night, beautiful with her waving black robe of darkness, and showing a face in which stars rolled for eyeballs, and the god of Love waxed mighty. And the moon, own brother to the curved corner of an angry long-eyed beauty's eye, arose, and glowing with fresh rosy colour, made itself the driving-hook of the elephant of the eastern mountain. And the eastern quarter, that was clear and bright with the departure of the darkness, bore a laughing face, to which the moon, like a new shoot of the twining plant of Love, formed an extemporized ear-ornament. And at night Mrigánkadatta, after performing his evening devotions, retired to his luxuriously appointed bed-chamber with his bride Sasánkavatí. And during it, that fair one's moonlike countenance, dispelling the darkness, and lighting up the pictured panels of the room, seemed to render unnecessary the lamps hanging there, that were made of precious stones. [498] And the next morning Mrigánkadatta was aroused by the soft sweet strains of the following song, "The night has past; leave your bed, prince, for the breezes of morning are blowing, fanning the perfumed locks of the gazelle-eyed fair ones. And the dewdrops collected on the points of the blades of dúrva-grass sparkle brilliantly, looking like pearls fallen from the necklace of the night quickly following the moon. And observe, prince, the bees that long sported in the cups of the white water-lilies opening when touched by the beams of the moon, and drank the honey, and were joyous at having obtained an entrance, now that the water-lilies are closed and their glory is departing, are seeking some other retreat; for to whom are black souls faithful in calamity? And the god of Love, seeing that the lip of night has been adorned by the finger of the sun, has stripped it of the moon which served it for a beauty-patch, and has gradually dissipated the darkness which was a black powder to set it off." Aroused by these strains at the hour of dawn, Mrigánkadatta cast off sleep, and leaving Sasánkavatí, at once started up from his couch. And he rose and performed the ceremonies of the day, his father having made all the arrangements that devolved on him; and accompanied by his beloved he passed many more days in similar rejoicing. Then his father, Amaradatta, first inaugurated the prince's brother-in-law Sushena with the holy waters, and placed a turban of honour on his head; and bestowed on him as a mark of respect a suitable territory and elephants, horses, quantities of gold, and garments, and a hundred beautiful women. And then the king complimented the king of the Savaras and the king of the Kirátas, Máyávatu and Saktirakshita, with their relations and wives, and that king Durgapisácha the leader of the host of the Mátangas, and the ministers of Mrigánkadatta with Srutadhi, by giving them territories, cows, horses, gold and garments. Then king Amaradatta dismissed the king of the Kirátas and the other monarchs, with Sushena, to their own dominions: and ruled his realm in happiness, at ease because his valour was so well known. Mrigánkadatta, for his part, having conquered his enemies, and attained his ends, remained in happiness with his wife Sasánkavatí, whom he had gained after a long struggle, and with Bhímaparákrama and his other ministers. And in course of time old age, slowly creeping on, approached the root of the ear of that king Amaradatta, appearing as if it had taken form in order to say to him, "You have enjoyed the good things of fortune; your age is fully ripe; surely it is now time to retire from the world." Then the king's mind became averse to enjoyment, and he said to his ministers, "Listen, I will now tell you the scheme which I have in my mind. My life has passed; that grey hue which is the harbinger of Death has just now twitched my locks; and when old age once arrives, a vicious clinging to enjoyment on the part of persons like myself, when all the zest is gone, is mere vanity. And though in some people a mad passion of avarice and lust goes on increasing with increasing age, that is without doubt the natural tendency of base souls, and the good do not acquire it. Now I have this son here Mrigánkadatta, who has gained glory by conquering the sovereign of Avanti and his allied kings [499], who abounds in good qualities, is beloved by the subjects, and has excellent friends. So I propose to make over to him my mighty kingdom, and to retire to a holy water for mortification of the flesh; conduct in conformity with the laws laid down for the various periods of life, that their enemies cannot blame, becomes men of great soul." When the calm and resolute ministers heard this determined speech of the king's, they, and in due course the queen and the citizens all approved it, saying, "So let it be!" Then the king performed the joyful ceremony of the coronation [500] of his son Mrigánkadatta at a moment fixed by the astrologers, on a day selected by the chief Bráhmans assembled together. And on that day the palace of the king was full of people running hither and thither at the order of the warder, and all the officials in it had their hands full, and it reeled with the merriment of famous bards and of lovely women who were dancing there. And while the water of holy places was being poured in copious showers upon the head of Mrigánkadatta and his wife, a second flood seemed to gush from the eyes of his joyful parents. And, when that new king, of lion-like might, mounted his lion-seat, it seemed as if his enemies, bowed down by fear of his wrath, crouched on the ground in a fashion other than lion-like. Then his father, king Amaradatta, prolonged for seven days the great feast, in which the king's highway was decorated, and the subject kings honoured according to their worth. And on the eighth day he went out of the city with his wife, and after turning back Mrigánkadatta and the citizens, who followed him with tearful faces, he went with his ministers to Váránasí. There the king remained with his body steeped in Ganges water, worshipping Siva three times a day, performing penance, like a hermit, by living on roots and fruits; and his wife shared all his devotions and privations. But Mrigánkadatta, for his part, having obtained that kingdom broad and pure as the sky, which the sun takes as his domain, and having overwhelmed the kings with imposition of numerous tributes, as the sun does the mountains with showers of rays, began to blaze forth with increasing heat of valour. And associated with his lieutenants Máyávatu and Karmasena and the others, and with his own ministers headed by Srutadhi, he conquered this circle of the earth, with all its continents, as far as the four cardinal points, and ruled it under one umbrella. And while he was king, such calamities as famine, and the dread of robbers and of foreign invaders were heard of only in tales; and the world was ever joyous and happy, and enjoyed unparalleled felicity, so that it seemed as if the gentle reign of Ráma the good were renewed. And so the monarch established himself in that city of Ayodhyá with his ministers, and kings came from various quarters to worship the lotus of his foot, and he long enjoyed with his beloved Sasánkavatí pleasures the joy of which no enemy marred. [501] When the hermit Pisangajata had told this story in the wood on the Malaya mountain to Naraváhanadatta, who was separated from his beloved, he went on to say to him, "So, my son, as Mrigánkadatta in old time gained Sasánkavatí after enduring affliction, you also will regain your Madanamanchuká." When Naraváhanadatta had heard this nectarous utterance of the mighty hermit Pisangajata, he conceived in his heart the hope of regaining Madanamanchuká. And with his mind fixed on her, he took leave of that good hermit, and roamed about on the Malaya mountain, looking for Lalitalochaná, whom he had lost, the fair one that originally brought him there. BOOK XIII. CHAPTER CIV. May that Ganesa, whom, when dancing in the twilight intervals between the Yugas, all the worlds seem to imitate by rising and falling, protect you! May the blaze of the eye in the forehead of Siva, who is smeared with the beautiful red dye used by Gaurí for adorning her feet, befriend you for your happiness! We adore the goddess Sarasvatí, taking form as speech to our heart's delight, the bee that dwells in the lotus on the lake of the mighty poet's mind. [502] Then Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, afflicted with separation, being without Madanamanchuká, roamed about on those lower slopes of mount Malaya, and in its bordering forests, which were in all the beauty of spring, but found joy nowhere. The cluster of mango-blossoms, though in itself soft, yet seeming, on account of the bees [503] that settled on it, like the pliant bow of the god of Love, cleft his heart. And the song of the cuckoo, though sweet in itself, was hard to bear, and gave pain to his ears, as it seemed to be harsh with the reproachful utterances of Mára. [504] And the wind of the Malaya mountain, though in itself cool, yet being yellow with the pollen of flowers, and so looking like the fire of Cupid, seemed to burn him, when it fell on his limbs. So he slowly left that region, being, so to speak, drummed out of it by those groves that were all resonant with the hum of bees. And gradually, as he journeyed on, with the deity for his guide, by a path that led towards the Ganges, he reached the bank of a lake in a neighbouring wood. And there he beheld two young Bráhmans of handsome appearance, sitting at the foot of a tree, engaged in unrestrained conversation. And when they saw him, they thought he was the god of Love, and they rose up, and bowing before him, said, "All hail to thee, adorable god of the flowery bow! Tell us why thou wanderest here alone without that fragrant artillery of thine, and where is that Rati thy constant companion?" When the son of the king of Vatsa heard that, he said to those Bráhmans, "I am not the god Káma, I am a mere mortal; but I have indeed lost my Rati." [505] When the prince had said this, he told his history, and said to those Bráhmans, "Who are you, and of what kind is this talk that you two are carrying on here?" Then one of those young Bráhmans said to him respectfully, "King, how can we tell our secret in the presence of a man of your worth? Nevertheless, out of respect for your command, I will tell our history; give ear!" The first Bráhman's story. There is in the territory of Kalinga a city of the name of Sobhávatí, which has never been entered by the demon Kali, nor touched by evildoers, nor seen by a foreign foe: such has it been made by the Creator. In it there was a wise and rich Bráhman, of the name of Yasaskara, who had offered many sacrifices, and he had an excellent wife named Mekhalá. I was born to them as an only son, when they were already in middle life, and I was in due course reared up by them, and invested with the sacrificial thread. Then, while as a boy I was studying the Vedas, there arose a mighty famine in that land, owing to drought. So my father and my mother went off with me to a city named Visálá, taking with them their wealth and their servants. In that city, in which fortune and learning dwelt together, having laid aside their long feud, my father established himself, having had a house given him by a merchant, who was a friend of his. And I dwelt there in the house of my preceptor, engaged in the acquisition of learning, in the society of my fellow-students of equal age. And among them I had a friend, a promising young man of the military caste, Vijayasena by name, the son of a very rich Kshatriya. And one day the unmarried sister of that friend of mine, whose name was Madirávatí, came with him to my teacher's house. So beautiful was she that I feel convinced that the Creator made the orb of the moon, that is like nectar to the eyes of men, out of the overflowing of the perfect loveliness of her face. I ween, the god of Love, when he beheld her form, which was to him a sixth weapon, bewildering the world, valued but little his other five shafts. When I saw her, and heard from that friend her name and descent, I was at once overpowered by Love's potent sway, and my mind was altogether fixed upon her. And she, for her part, looked askance at me with modest loving eye, and the down standing erect on her cheeks told that love had begun to sprout. And after she had remained there a long time on the pretext of play, she at last tore herself away and went home, sending to me from the reverted corner of her eye a look that was a messenger of love. Then I went home, grieved at having to part with her, and throwing myself flat, I tossed up and down convulsively like a fish on dry land. I said to myself, "Shall I ever again behold her face, which is the Creator's storehouse of all the nectar of beauty? Happy are her companions [506] whom she looks at with that laughing eye, and talks freely to with that mouth." Engaged in such thoughts as these, I with difficulty got through that day and night, and on the second day I went to the house of my teacher. There my friend Vijayasena approached me courteously, and in the course of a confidential conversation, said to me joyfully, "My mother has heard from my sister Madirávatí that you are so great a friend of mine, and being full of love for you, she wishes to behold you; so, if you have any regard for me, come with me to our house; let it be adorned for us with the dust of your lotus-like foot." This speech of his was a sudden refreshment to me, as an unexpected heavy shower of rain is to a traveller in the desert. So I consented, and went to his house, and there I had an interview with his mother, and was welcomed by her, and remained there gladdened by beholding my beloved. Then Vijayasena, having been summoned by his father, left me, and the foster-sister of Madirávatí came to me, and said, bowing before me, "Prince, the princess Madirávatí trained up to maturity in our garden a jasmine creeper; and it has recently produced a splendid crop of flowers, which laugh and gleam with joyous exultation at being united with the spring. To-day the princess herself has gathered its buds, in defiance of the bees that settled on the flowers; and she has threaded them, like pearls, into a necklace, and she sends this to you her old friend as a new present." When that dexterous girl had said this, she gave me the garland, and with it leaves of the betel, together with camphor and the five fruits. So I threw round my neck the garland, which my beloved had made with her own hand, and I enjoyed exceeding pleasure, surpassing the joy of many embraces. [507] And putting the betel into my mouth, I said to that dear companion of hers, "What can I say more than this, my good girl? I have in my heart such intense love for your companion, that, if I could sacrifice my life for her, I should consider that it had not been given me in vain; for she is the sovereign of my being." When I had said this, I dismissed her, and I went to my teacher's house with Vijayasena, who had that moment come in. The next day Vijayasena came with Madirávatí to our house, to the great delight [508] of my parents. So the love of myself and Madirávatí, though carefully concealed, increased every day from being in one another's society. And one day a servant of Madirávatí's said to me in secret, "Listen, noble sir, and lay up [509] in your heart what I am going to tell you. Ever since my darling Madirávatí beheld you there in your teacher's house, she has no appetite for her food, she does not adorn herself, she takes no pleasure in music, she does not play with her parrots and other pets; she finds that fanning with plantain leaves, and moist anointings with sandal-wood ointment, and the rays of the moon, though cool as snow, torture her with heat; and every day she grows perceptibly thinner, like the streak of the moon in the black fortnight, and the only thing that seems to give her any relief is conversation about you; this is what my daughter told me, who knows all that she does, who attends her like a shadow, and never leaves her side. Moreover, I drew Madirávatí herself into a confidential conversation, and questioned her, and she confessed to me that her affections were fixed on you. So now, auspicious sir, if you wish her life to be saved, take steps to have her wishes fulfilled." This nectarous speech of hers delighted me, and I said, "That altogether depends on you, I am completely at your disposal." When she heard this, she returned delighted, and I, relying on her, conceived hopes, and went home with my mind at ease. The next day an influential young Kshatriya came from Ujjayiní and asked Madirávatí's father for her hand. And her father promised to give him his daughter; and I heard that news, terrible to my ears, from her attendants. Then I was for a long time amazed, as if fallen from heaven, as if struck with a thunderbolt, as if possessed by a demon. But I recovered, and said to myself, "What is the use of bewilderment now? I will wait and see the end. It is the self-possessed man that gains his desire." Buoyed up by such hopes I passed some days, and my beloved one's companions came to me and supported me by telling me what she said; but at last Madirávatí was informed that the auspicious moment had been fixed, and the day of her marriage arrived celebrated with great rejoicings. So she was shut up in her father's house, and prevented from roaming about at will, and the processional entry of the bridegroom's friends drew nigh, heralded by the sound of drums. When I saw that, I considered that my miserable life had lost all its zest, and came to the conclusion that death was to be preferred to separation; so I went outside the city, and climbed up a banyan-tree, and fastened a noose to it, and I let myself drop from the tree suspended by that noose, and let go at the same time my chimerical hope of obtaining my beloved. And a moment afterwards I found myself, having recovered the consciousness which I had lost, lying in the lap of a young man who had cut the noose; and perceiving that he had without doubt saved my life, I said to him, "Noble sir, you have to-day shewn your compassionate nature; but I am tortured by separation from my beloved and I prefer death to life. The moon is like fire to me, food is poison, songs pierce my ear like needles, a garden is a prison, a wreath of flowers is a series of envenomed shafts, and anointing with sandal-wood ointment and other unguents is a rain of burning coals. Tell me, friend, what pleasure can wretched bereaved ones, like myself, to whom everything in the world is turned upside down, find in life?" When I had said this, that friend in misfortune asked me my history, and I told him the whole of my love affair with Madirávatí. Then that good man said to me, "Why, though wise, are you bewildered? What is the use of surrendering life, for the sake of which we acquire all other things?" À propos of this, hear my story, which I now proceed to relate to you. The second Bráhman's story. There is in the bosom of the Himálayas a country named Nishada, which is the only refuge of virtue, banished from the earth by Kali, and the native land of truth, and the home of the Krita age. The inhabitants of that land are insatiable of learning, but not of money-getting; they are satisfied with their own wives, but with benefiting others never. I am the son of a Bráhman of that country who was rich in virtue and wealth. I left my home, my friend, out of a curiosity which impelled me to see other countries, and wandering about, visiting teachers, I reached in course of time the city of Sankhapura not far from here, where there is a great purifying lake of clear water, sacred to Sankhapála king of the Nágas, and called Sankhahrada. While I was living there in the house of my spiritual preceptor, I went one holy bathing festival to visit the lake Sankhahrada. Its banks were crowded, and its waters troubled on every side by people who had come from all countries, like the sea when the gods and Asuras churned it. I beheld that great lake, which seemed to make the women look more lovely, as their garlands of flowers fell from their loosened braids, while it gently stroked their waists with its waves like hands, and made itself slightly yellow with the unguents which its embraces rubbed off from their bodies. I then went to the south of the lake, and beheld a clump of trees, which looked like the body of Cupid being consumed by the fire of Siva's eye; its lápinchas did duty for smoke, its kinsukas for red coals, and it was all aflame with twining masses of the full-blown scarlet asoka. There I saw a certain maiden gathering flowers at the entrance of an arbour composed of the atimukta creeper; she seemed with her playful sidelong glances to be threatening the lotus in her ear; she kept raising her twining arm and displaying half her bosom; and her beautiful loosened hair, hanging down her back, seemed like the darkness seeking shelter to escape from her moon-like face. And I said to myself "Surely the Creator must have made this girl, after he had got his hand in by creating Rambhá and her sister-nymphs, but one can see that she is mortal by the winking of her eyes." The moment I saw that gazelle-eyed maid, she pierced my heart, like a crescent-headed javelin of Mára, bewildering the three worlds. And the moment she saw me, she was overcome by Cupid, and her hands were rendered nerveless and listless by love, and she desisted from her amusement of gathering flowers. She seemed, with the flashings of the ruby in the midst of her moving flexible chain, [510] to be displaying the flames of affection that had broken forth from her heart in which they could not be contained; and turning round, she looked at me again and again with an eye that seemed to be rendered more charming by the pupil coming down to rest in its corner. While we stood for a while looking at one another, there arose there a great noise of people flying in terror. And there came that way an infuriated elephant driven mad by the smell of the wild elephants; it had broken its chain, and thrown its rider, and the elephant-hook was swinging to and fro at the end of its ear. The moment I saw the animal, I rushed forward, and taking up in my arms my beloved, who was terrified, and whose attendants had run away, I carried her into the middle of the crowd. Then she began to recover her composure, and her attendants came up; but just at that moment the elephant, attracted by the noise of the people, charged in our direction. The crowd dispersed in terror at the monster's approach, and she disappeared among them, having been carried off by her attendants in one direction, while I went in another. At last the alarm caused by the elephant came to an end, and then I searched in every direction for that slender-waisted maid, but I could not find her, as I did not know her name, her family, or her dwelling-place; and so roaming about, with a void in my heart, like a Vidyádhara that has lost his magic power, I with difficulty tottered into my teacher's house. There I remained like one in a faint or asleep, remembering the joy of embracing my beloved, and anxious lest her love might fail. [511] And in course of time reflection lulled me in her lap, as if affected with the compassion natural to noble women, and shewed me a glimpse of hope, and soul-paining ignorance hugged my heart, and an exceedingly severe headache took possession of my brain. [512] In the meanwhile the day slipped away and my self-command with it, and the lotus-thicket folded its cups and my face was contracted with them, and the couples of Brahmany ducks were dispersed with my hopes, the sun having gone to rest. Then the moon, the chief friend of Love, that gladdens the eyes of the happy, rose up, adorning the face of the east; its rays, though ambrosial, seemed to me like fiery fingers, and though it lit up the quarters of the sky, it closed in me all hope of life. Then one of my fellow-students, seeing that in my misery I had flung my body into moonlight as into a fire, and was longing for death, said to me, "Why are you in this evil case? You do not appear to have any disease; but, if you have mental affliction caused by longing for wealth or by love, I will tell you the truth about those objects; listen to me. The wealth, which through over-covetousness men desire to gain by cheating their neighbours, or by robbing them, does not remain. The poison-trees [513] of wealth, which are rooted in wickedness and bring forth an abundant crop of wickedness, are soon broken by the weight of their own fruit. All that is gained by that wealth in this world, is the toil of acquiring it and other annoyances, and in the next world great suffering in hell, a suffering that shall continue as long as the moon and stars endure. As for love, that love which fails of attaining its object brings disappointment that puts an end to life, and unlawful love, though pleasing in the mouth, is simply the forerunner of the fire of hell, [514] but a man's mind is sound owing to good actions in a former life, and a hero, who possesses self-command and energy, obtains wealth, and the object of his desires, not a spiritless coward like you. So, my good fellow, have recourse to self-command, and strive for the attainment of your ends." When that friend said this to me I returned him a careless and random answer. However, I concealed my real thoughts, spent the night in a calm and composed manner, and in course of time came here, to see if by any chance she lived in this town. When I arrived here, I saw you with your neck in a noose, and after you were cut down, I heard from you your sorrow, and I have now told you my own. So I have made efforts to obtain that fair one whose name and dwelling-place I know not, and have thus exerted myself to gain what no heroism could procure; but why do you, when Madirávatí is within your grasp, play the faint-heart, instead of manfully striving to win her? Have you not heard the legend of old days with regard to Rukminí? Was she not carried off by Vishnu after she had been given to the king of Chedi? While that friend of mine was thus concluding his tale, Madirávatí came there with her followers, preceded by the usual auspicious band of music, in order to worship the god of Love in this temple of the Mothers. And I said to my friend, "I knew all along that maidens on the day of their marriage come here to worship the god of Love, this is why I tried to hang myself on the banyan-tree in front of this temple, in order that when Madirávatí came here, she might see that I had died for her sake." When that resolute Bráhman friend heard that, he said, "Then let us quickly slip into this temple and remain hidden behind the images of the Mothers, and see whether any expedient will then present itself to us or not." When my friend made this proposal, I consented, and went with him into that temple, and remained there concealed. And Madirávatí came there slowly, escorted by the auspicious wedding music, and entered that temple. And she left at the door all her female friends and male attendants, saying to them, "I wish in private to crave from the awful god of Love a certain boon [515] that is in my mind, so remain all of you outside the building." Then she came in and addressed the following prayer to Kámadeva after she had worshipped him, "O god, since thou art named 'the mind-born,' how was it that thou didst not discern the beloved that was in my mind? Why hast thou disappointed and slain me? If thou hast not been able to grant me my boon in this birth, at any rate have mercy upon me in my next birth, O husband of Rati. Shew me so much favour as to ensure that handsome young Bráhman's being my husband in my next birth." When the girl had said this in our hearing and before our eyes, she made a noose by fastening her upper garment to a peg, and put it round her neck. And my friend said to me, "Go and shew yourself to her, and take the noose from her neck;" so I immediately went towards her. And I said to her with a voice faltering from excess of joy, "Do not act rashly, my beloved; see, here is your slave in front of you, bought by you with the risk of your life, in whom affection has been produced by your utterance in the moment of your grief;" and with these words I removed the noose from the neck of that fair one. She immediately looked at me, and remained for a moment divided between joy and terror, and then my friend said quickly to me, "As this is a dimly lighted hour owing to the waning of the day, I will go out dressed in Madirávatí's garments with her attendants. And do you go out by the second door, taking with you this bride wrapped up in our upper garments. And make for whatever foreign country you please, during the night, when you will be able to avoid detection. And do not be anxious about me. Fate will bestow on me prosperity." When my friend had said this, he put on Madirávatí's dress, and went out, and left that temple in the darkness, surrounded by her attendants. And I slipped out by another door with Madirávatí, who wore a necklace of priceless jewels, and went three yojanas in the night. In the morning I took food, and slowly travelling on, I reached in the course of some days, with my beloved, a city named Achalapura. There a certain Bráhman shewed himself my friend, and gave me a house, and there I quickly married Madirávatí. So I have been living there in happiness, having obtained my desire, and my only anxiety has been as to what could have become of my friend. And in course of time I came here to bathe in the Ganges, on this day which is the festival of the summer solstice, and lo! I found here this man who without cause shewed himself my friend. And full of embarrassment I folded him in a long embrace, and at last made him sit down and asked him to tell me his adventures, and at that moment your Highness came up. Know, son of the king of Vatsa, that this other Bráhman at my side is my true friend in calamity, to whom I owe my life and my wife. When one Bráhman had told his story in these words, Naraváhanadatta said to the other Bráhman, "I am much pleased; now tell me, how did you escape from so great a danger? For men like yourself, who disregard their lives for the sake of their friends, are hard to find." When the second Bráhman heard this speech of the son of the king of Vatsa, he also began to tell his adventures. Subsequent adventures of the second Bráhman. When I went out that night from the temple in Madirávatí's dress, her attendants surrounded me under the impression that I was their mistress. And being bewildered with dancing, singing and intoxication, they put me in a palanquin [516] and took me to the house of Somadatta, which was in festal array. In one part it was full of splendid raiment, in another of piled up ornaments; here you might see cooked food provided, there an altar-platform made ready; one corner was full of singing female slaves, another of professional mimes; and a third was occupied by Bráhmans waiting for the auspicious moment. Into one room of this house I was ushered in the darkness, veiled, by the servants, who were beside themselves with drink and took me for the bride. And when I sat down there, the females surrounded me, full of joy at the wedding festival, busied with a thousand affairs. Immediately the sound of bracelets and anklets was heard near the door, and a maiden entered the room surrounded by her attendants. Like a female snake, her head was adorned with flashing jewels, and she had a white skin-like boddice; like a wave of the sea, she was full of beauty, [517] and covered with strings of pearls. She had a garland of beautiful flowers, arms shapely as the stalk of the creeper, and bright bud-like fingers; and so she looked like the goddess of the garden moving among men. And she came and sat down by my side, thinking I was her beloved confidante. When I looked at her, I perceived that that thief of my heart had come to me, the maiden that I saw at the Sankha lake whither she had come to bathe; whom I saved from the elephant, and who, almost as soon as seen, disappeared from my sight among the crowd. I was overpowered with excess of joy, and I said to myself, "Can this be mere chance, or is it a dream, or sober waking reality?" Immediately those attendants of Madirávatí said to the visitor, "Why do you seem so disturbed in mind, noble lady?" When she heard that, she said, concealing her real feelings, [518] "What! are you not aware what a dear friend of mine Madirávatí is. And she, as soon as she is married, will go off to her father-in-law's house, and I shall not be able to live without her; this is why I am afflicted. So leave the room quickly, in order that I may have the pleasure of a little confidential chat with Madirávatí." With these words she put them all out, and fastened the door herself, and then sat down, and under the impression that I was her confidante, began to speak to me as follows; "Madirávatí, no affliction can be greater than this affliction of yours, in that you are in love with one man, and you are given by your father in marriage to another; still you may possibly have a meeting or be united with your beloved, whom you know by having been in his society. But for me a hopeless affliction has arisen, and I will tell you what it is; for you are the only repository of my secrets, as I am of yours. "I had gone to bathe on a festival in the lake named the lake of Sankha, [519] in order to divert my mind which was oppressed with approaching separation from you. While thus engaged, I saw in the garden near that lake a beautiful blooming young Bráhman, whose budding beard seemed like a swarm of bees come to feed on the lotus of his face; he himself looked like the moon come down from heaven in the day, like the golden binding-post of the elephant of beauty. I said to myself, 'Those hermits' daughters who have not seen this youth, have only endured to no purpose hardship in the woods; what fruit have they of their asceticism?' And even as I thought this in my heart, the god of Love pierced it so completely with his shafts, that shame and fear at once left it together. "Then, while I looked with sidelong looks at him, whose eyes were fixed on me, there suddenly came that way a furious elephant that had escaped from its binding-post. That scared away my attendants and terrified myself; and the young man, perceiving this, ran, and taking me up in his arms, carried me along way into the midst of the crowd. While in his arms, I assure you, my friend, I was rendered dead to all beside by the joy of his ambrosial touch, and I knew not the elephant, nor fear, nor who I was, nor where I was. In the meanwhile my attendants came up, and thereupon the elephant rushed down on us like Separation incarnate in bodily form, and my servants, alarmed at it, took me up and carried me home; and in the mêlée my beloved disappeared, whither I know not. Ever since that time I do nothing but think on him, who saved my life, but whose name and dwelling I know not, who was snatched from me as one might snatch away from my grasp a treasure that I had found; and I weep all night with the female chakravákas, longing for sleep, that takes away all grief, in order that I may behold him in a dream. "In this hopeless affliction my only consolation, my friend, is the sight of yourself, and that is now being far removed from me. Accordingly, Madirávatí, the hour of my death draws nigh, and that is why I am now enjoying the pleasure of beholding your face." When she had uttered this speech, which was like a shower of nectar in my ears, staining all the while the moon of her face with tear-drops mixed with the black pigment of her eyes, she lifted up the veil from my face, and beheld and recognized me, and then she was filled with joy, wonder, and fear. Then I said, "Fair one, what is your cause of alarm? Here I am at your service. For Fate, when propitious, brings about unexpected results. I too have endured for your sake intolerable sorrow; the fact is, Fate produces a strange variety of effects in this phenomenal universe. Hereafter I will tell you my story at full length; this is not the time for conversation; now devise, if you can, my beloved, some artifice for escaping from this place." When I said this to the girl, she made the following proposal, which was just what the occasion demanded; "Let us slip out quietly from this house by the back-door; the garden belonging to the house of my father, a noble Kshatriya, is just outside: let us pass through it and go where chance may take us." When she had said this, she hid her ornaments, and I left the house with her by the way which she recommended. So in that night I went a long distance with her, for we feared detection, and in the morning we reached together a great forest. And as we were going along through that savage wilderness, with no comfort but our mutual conversation, noon gradually came on. The sun, like a wicked king, afflicted with his rays the earth that furnished no asylum for travellers, and no shelter. [520] By that time my beloved was exhausted with fatigue and tortured with thirst, so I slowly carried her into the shade of a tree, which it cost me a great effort to reach. There I tried to restore her by fanning her with my garment, and while I was thus engaged, a buffalo that had escaped with a wound, came towards us. And there followed in eager pursuit of it a man on horseback armed with a bow, whose very appearance proclaimed him to be a noble-minded hero. He slew that great buffalo with a second wound from a crescent-headed arrow; striking him down as Indra strikes down a mountain with the dint of a thunder-bolt. When he saw us, he advanced towards us, and said kindly to me, "Who are you, my good sir; and who is this lady; and why have you come here?" Then I shewed my Bráhmanical thread, and gave him an answer which was half truth and half falsehood; "I am a Bráhman, this is my wife: business led us to a foreign land, and on the way our caravan was destroyed by bandits, and we, separating from it, lost our way, and so came to enter this forest; here we have met you, and all our fears are at an end." When I said this, he was moved by compassion for my Bráhmanical character, and said "I am a chief of the foresters, come here to hunt; and you way-worn travellers have arrived here as my guests; so now come to my house, which is at no great distance, to rest." When he had said this, he made my wearied darling got up on his horse, and himself walked, and so he led us to his dwelling. There he provided us with food and other requisites, as if he had been a relation. [521] Even in bad districts some few noble-hearted men spring up here and there. Then he gave me attendants, who enabled me to get out of that wood, and I reached a royal grant to Bráhmans, where I married that lady. Then I wandered about from country to country, and meeting with a caravan, I have to-day come here with her to bathe in the water of the Ganges. And here I have found this man whom I selected for myself as a friend; and I have seen your Highness; this, prince, is my story." When he had said this, he ceased, and the prince of Vatsa loudly praised that Bráhman, who had obtained the prize he desired, the fitting reward of his genuine goodness; and in the meanwhile the prince's ministers, Gomukha and the others, who had long been roaming about looking for him, came up and found him. And they fell at the feet of Naraváhanadatta, and tears of joy poured down their faces; while he welcomed them all with due and fitting respect. Then the prince, accompanied by Lalitalochaná, returned with those ministers to his city, taking with him those two young Bráhmans, whom he valued on account of the tact and skill they had displayed in attaining worthy objects. BOOK XIV. CHAPTER CV. May Siva, the granter of boons, who, when pleased, bestowed on Umá half his own body, grant you your desire! May the vermilion-stained trunk which Ganesa at night throws up in the dance, and so seems to furnish the moon-umbrella with a coral handle, protect you! Then Naraváhanadatta, son of the king of Vatsa, possessing as his wives those various ladies, the most beautiful in the three worlds, and Madanamanchuká as his head-queen, dwelt with Gomukha and his other ministers in Kausámbí, having his every want supplied by his father's magnificent resources. His days passed pleasantly in dancing, singing, and conversation, and were enlivened by the exquisite enjoyment of the society of the ladies whom he loved. Then it happened one day that he could not find his principal charmer Madanamanchuká anywhere in the female apartments, nor could her attendants find her either. [522] When he could not see his beloved, he became pale from grief, as the moon loses its beauty in the morning, by being separated from the night. And he was distracted by an innumerable host of doubts, saying to himself, "I wonder whether my beloved has hidden herself somewhere to ascertain my sentiments towards her; or is she indignant with me for some trifling fault or other; or is she concealed by magic, or has she been carried off by some one?" When he had searched for her, and could not find her anywhere, he was consumed by violent grief for his separation from her, which raged in his bosom like a forest conflagration. His father, the king of Vatsa, who came to visit him, as soon as he knew the state of affairs, and his mothers, ministers, and servants were all beside themselves. The pearl necklace, sandal-wood ointment, the rays of the moon, lotus-fibres and lotus-leaves did not alleviate his torture, but rather increased it. As for Kalingasená, when she was suddenly deprived of that daughter, she was confounded like a Vidyádharí, who has lost her magic power. Then an aged female guardian of the women's apartments said in the presence of Naraváhanadatta, so that all there heard, "Long ago, that young Vidyádhara, named Mánasavega, having beheld Madanamanchuká, when she was a maiden, on the top of the palace, suddenly descended from heaven, and approaching Kalingasená, told her his name, and asked her to give him her daughter. When Kalingasená refused, he went as he came; but why should he not have now come secretly and carried her off by his magic power? It is of course true that heavenly beings do not carry off the wives of others; on the other hand, who, that is blinded by passion, troubles himself about the right or wrong of an action?" When Naraváhanadatta heard this, his heart was overwhelmed with anger, impatience, and the sorrow of bereavement, and became like a lotus in the waves. Then Rumanvat said, "This palace is guarded all round, and it is impossible to enter or go out from it, except through the air. Moreover, by the favour of Siva no misfortune can befall her; so we may be certain that she has hidden herself somewhere, because her affection has been wounded. Listen to a story which will make this clear." Story of Sávitrí and Angiras. Once on a time a hermit, named Angiras, asked Ashtávakra for the hand of his daughter Sávitrí. But Ashtávakra would not give him his daughter Sávitrí, though he was an excellent match, because she was already betrothed to some one else. Then Angiras married Asrutá his brother's daughter, and lived a long time with her as his wife in great happiness; but she was well aware that he had previously been in love with Sávitrí. One day that hermit Angiras remained muttering for a long time in an inaudible voice. Then his wife Asrutá asked him again and again lovingly, "Tell me, my husband, why do you remain so long fixed in thought?" He said, "My dear, I am meditating on the Sávitrí;" and she, thinking that he meant Sávitrí, the hermit's daughter, was vexed in soul. She said to herself, "He is miserable," so she went off to the forest determined to abandon the body; and after she had prayed that good fortune might attend her husband, she fastened a rope round her neck. And at that moment Gáyatrí appeared with rosary of aksha-beads and ascetic's pitcher, and said to her, "Daughter, do not act rashly! Your husband was not thinking of any woman; he was meditating on me, the holy Sávitrí;" and with these words she freed her neck from the noose; and the goddess, merciful to her votaries, having thus consoled her, disappeared. Then her husband Angiras, searching for her, found her in the wood, and brought her home. So you see that women in this world cannot endure the wounding of their affections. "So you may be certain that this wife of the prince is angry on account of some trifling injury, and is hidden somewhere in this place; for she is under the protection of Siva; and we must again search for her." When Rumanvat said this, the sovereign of Vatsa said, "It must be so: for no misfortune can befall her, inasmuch as a heavenly voice said 'This Madanamanchuká is an incarnation of Rati, appointed by the god to be the wife of Naraváhanadatta, who is an emanation of the god of Love, and he shall rule the Vidyádharas with her as his consort for a kalpa of the gods,' and this utterance cannot be falsified by the event. So let her be carefully looked for." When the king himself said this, Naraváhanadatta went out, though he was in such a miserable state. But, however much he searched for her, he could not find her, so he wandered about in various parts of the grounds, like one distracted; when he went to her dwelling, the rooms with closed doors seemed as if they had shut their eyes in despair at beholding his grief; and when he went about in the groves asking for her, the trees, agitating their shoots like hands seemed to say, "We have not seen your beloved." When he searched in the gardens, the sárasa-birds, flying up to the sky, seemed to tell him that she had not gone that way. And his ministers Marubhúti, Harisikha, Gomukha, and Vasantaka wandered about in every direction to find her. In the meanwhile an unmarried Vidyádharí, of the name of Vegavatí, having beheld Madanamanchuká in her splendid and glorious beauty, deliberately took her shape, and came and stood alone in the garden under an asoka-tree. Marubhúti saw her, as he was roaming about in search of the queen, and she seemed at once to extract the dart from his pierced heart. And in his joy he went to Naraváhanadatta, and said to him, "Cheer up, I have seen your beloved in the garden." When he said this, Naraváhanadatta was delighted, and immediately went with him to that garden. Then, exhausted with long bereavement, he beheld that semblance of Madanamanchuká, with feelings like those with which a thirsty traveller beholds a stream of water. And the moment he beheld her, the much afflicted prince longed to embrace her, but she, being cunning and wishing to be married by him, said to him, "Do not touch me now, first hear what I have to say. Before I married you, I prayed to the Yakshas to enable me to obtain you, and said, 'On my wedding-day I will make offerings to you with my own hand.' But, my beloved, when my wedding-day came, I forgot all about them. That enraged the Yakshas, and so they carried me off from this place. And they have just brought me here, and let me go, saying, 'Go and perform over again that ceremony of marriage, and make oblations to us, and then repair to your husband; otherwise you will not prosper.' So marry me quickly, in order that I may offer the Yakshas the worship they demand; and then fulfil all your desire." When Naraváhanadatta heard that, he summoned the priest Sántisoma and at once made the necessary preparations, and immediately married the supposed Madanamanchuká, who was no other than the Vidyádharí Vegavatí, having been for a short time quite cast down by his separation from the real one. Then a great feast took place there, full of the clang of cymbals, delighting the king of Vatsa, gladdening the queens, and causing joy to Kahngasená. And the supposed Madanamanchuká, who was really the Vidyádharí Vegavatí, made with her own hand an offering of wine, flesh, and other dainties to the Yakshas. Then Naraváhanadatta, remaining with her in her chamber, drank wine with her in his exultation, though he was sufficiently intoxicated with her voice. And then he retired to rest with her, who had thus changed her shape, as the sun with the shadow. And she said to him in secret, "My beloved, now that we have retired to rest, you must take care not to unveil my face suddenly and look at me while asleep [523]." When the prince heard this, he was filled with curiosity, to think what this might be, and the next day he uncovered her face while she was asleep, and looked at it, and lo! it was not Madanamanchuká, but some one else, who, when asleep, had lost the power of disguising her appearance by magic. [524] Then she woke up, while he was sitting by her awake. And he said to her, "Tell me, who are you?" And the discreet Vidyádharí seeing him sitting up awake, and being conscious that she was in her own shape and that her secret was discovered, began to tell her tale saying, "Listen, my beloved, I will now tell you the whole story." "There is in the city of the Vidyádharas a mountain of the name of Áshádhapura. There dwells a chief of the Vidyádharas, named Mánasavega, a prince puffed up with the might of his arm, the son of king Vegavat. I am his younger sister, and my name is Vegavatí. And that brother of mine hated me so much that he was not willing to bestow on me the sciences. Then I obtained them, though with difficulty, from my father, who had retired to a wood of ascetics, and, thanks to his favour, I possess them of greater power than any other of our race. I myself saw the wretched Madanamanchuká, in the palace of mount Áshádha, in a garden, surrounded by sentinels, I mean your beloved, whom my brother has carried off by magic, as Rávana carried off the afflicted Sítá, the wife of Rámabhadra. And as the virtuous lady repels his caresses, he cannot subdue her to his will, for a curse has been laid upon him, that will bring about his death, if he uses violence to any woman. "So that wicked brother of mine made use of me, to try and talk her over; and I went to that lady, who could do nothing but talk of you. And in my conversation with her, that virtuous lady mentioned your name, [525] which was like a command from the god of Love, and thus my mind then became fixed upon you alone. And then I remembered an announcement which Párvatí made to me in a dream, much to the following effect, 'You shall be married to that man the mere hearing of whose name overpowers you with love.' When I had called this to mind, I cheered up Madanamanchuká, and came here in her form, and married myself to you by an artifice. So come, my beloved, I am filled with such compassion for your wife Madanamanchuká that I will take you where she is; for I am the devoted servant of my rival, even as I am of you, because you love her. For I am so completely enslaved by love for you, that I am rendered quite unselfish by it." When Vegavatí had said this, she took Naraváhanadatta, and by the might of her science flew up with him into the sky during the night. And next morning, while she was slowly travelling through the heaven, the attendants of the husband and wife were bewildered by their disappearance. And when the king of Vatsa came to hear of it, he was immediately, as it were, struck by a thunderbolt, and so were Vásavadattá, Padmávatí and the rest. And the citizens, and the king's ministers Yaugandharáyana and the others, together with their sons Marubhúti and the rest, were altogether distracted. Then the hermit Nárada, surrounded with a circle of light, descended there from heaven, like a second sun. The king of Vatsa offered him the arghya, and the hermit said to him, "Your son has been carried off by a Vidyádharí to her country, but he will soon return; and I have been sent by Siva to cheer you up." And after this prelude he went on to tell the king of Vegavatí's proceedings, exactly as they took place; then the king recovered his spirits and the hermit disappeared. In the meanwhile Vegavatí carried Naraváhanadatta through the air to the mountain Áshádhapura. And Mánasavega, hearing of it, hastened there to kill them both. Then Vegavatí engaged with her brother in a struggle which was remarkable for a great display of magic power; for a woman values her lover as her life, and much more than her own relations. Then she assumed by the might of her magic a terrible form of Bhairava, and at once striking Mánasavega senseless, she placed him on the mountain of Agni. [526] And she took Naraváhanadatta, whom at the beginning of the contest she had deposited in the care of one of her sciences, [527] and placed him in a dry well in the city of the Gandharvas, to keep him. And when he was there, she said to him, "Remain here a little while, my husband; good fortune will befall you here; and do not despond in your heart, O man appointed to a happy lot, for the sovereignty over all the Vidyádharas is to be yours. But I must leave this for the present, to appease my sciences, impaired by my resistance to my elder brother; however, I will return to you soon." When the Vidhyádharí Vegavatí had said this, she departed somewhere or other. CHAPTER CVI. Then a certain Gandharva, of the name of Vínádatta, saw Naraváhanadatta in that well. Truly if there were not great souls in this world, born for the benefit of others, relieving distress as wayside trees heat, the world would be a withered forest. Thus the good Gandharva, as soon as he saw Naraváhanadatta, asked him his name and lineage, and supporting him with his hand, drew him out of that well, and said to him, [528] "If you are a man and not a god, how did you reach this city of the Gandharvas inaccessible to man? Tell me!" Then Naraváhanadatta answered him, "A Vidyádharí brought me here, and threw me into the well by her power." Then the good Gandharva Vínádatta, seeing that he had the veritable signs of an emperor, took him to his own dwelling, and waited upon him with all the luxuries at his command. And the next day, Naraváhanadatta, perceiving that the inhabitants of the city carried lyres in their hands, said to his host, "Why have all these people, even down to the children, got lyres in their hands?" [529] Then Vínádatta gave him this answer, "Ságaradatta the king of the Gandharvas, who lives here, has a daughter named Gandharvadattá, who eclipses the nymphs of heaven; it seems as if the Creator had blended nectar, the moon, and sandalwood, and other choice things, in order to compose her body, as a specimen of his skill in making all that is fair. She is always singing to the lyre the hymn of Vishnu, which the god himself bestowed on her, and so she has attained supreme skill in music. [530] And the princess has firmly resolved that whoever is so well skilled in music, that he can play on the lyre, and sing perfectly in three scales a song in praise of Vishnu, shall be her husband. The consequence is, that all here are trying to learn to play the lyre, but they have not acquired the amount of skill demanded by the princess." Prince Naraváhanadatta was delighted at hearing this speech from the mouth of Vínádatta and he said to him, "All the accomplishments have chosen me for a husband, and I know all the music, that there is in the three worlds." When he said this, his friend Vínádatta conducted him into the presence of king Ságaradatta, and said there, "Here is Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, who has fallen into your city from the hand of a Vidyádharí. He is an adept in music, and he knows the song in praise of Vishnu, in which the princess Gandharvadattá takes so much pleasure." When the king heard this, he said, "It is true; I heard so much before from the Gandharvas; so I must to-day receive him with respect here. And he is an emanation of a divinity; he is not out of place in the abode of gods; otherwise, if he were a man, how could he have come here by associating with a Vidyádharí? So summon Gandharvadattá quickly and let us test him." When the king said this, the chamberlains went to fetch her. And the fair one came there, all glorious with flower-ornaments, agitating with her beauty, as if with a wind, the creepers of spring. She sat down at her father's side, and the servants told her what had taken place, and immediately, at his command, she sang a song to the lyre. When she was joining the notes to the quarter-tones, like Sarasvatí the wife of Brahmá, Naraváhanadatta was astonished at her singing and her beauty. Then he said to her, "Princess, your lyre does not seem to me to sound well, I think there must be a hair on the string." Thereupon the lyre was examined, and they found the hair where he said, and that astonished even the Gandharvas. Then the king took the lyre from his daughter's hand, and gave it to him, saying, "Prince, take this, and pour nectar into our ears." Then he played on it, and sang the hymn of Vishnu with such skill that the Gandharvas there became motionless as painted pictures. Then Gandharvadattá herself threw on him a look tender with affection, as it were a garland of full-blown blue lotuses, [531] and therewith chose him as her husband. When the king saw it, and called to mind his promise of that import, he at once gave him his daughter Gandharvadattá in marriage. As for the wedding that thereupon took place, gladdened by the drums of the gods and other festal signs, to what could we compare it, as it served as the standard by which to estimate all similar rejoicings? Then Naraváhanadatta lived there with his new bride Gandharvadattá in heavenly bliss. And one day he went out to behold the beauty of the city, and after he had seen all kinds of places, he entered the park attached to it. There he saw a heavenly female descending from the sky with her daughter, like the lightning with the rain in a cloudless atmosphere. And she was saying to her daughter, as she descended, recognising him by her knowledge, "This, my daughter, is your future husband, the son of the king of Vatsa." "When he saw her alight and come towards him, he said to her, "Who are you, and why have you come?" And the heavenly female said to him, thus introducing the object of her desire: "Prince, I am Dhanavatí, the wife of a chief of the Vidyádharas, named Sinha, and this is my unmarried daughter, the sister of Chandasinha, and her name is Ajinávatí. You were announced as her future husband by a voice that came from heaven. Then, learning by my magic science, that you, the future emperor of the Vidyádharas, had been deposited here by Vegavatí, I came to tell you my desire. You ought not to remain in such a place as this which is accessible to the Vidyádharas, for they might slay you out of enmity, as you are alone, and have not obtained your position of emperor. So come, let us now take you to a land which is inaccessible to them. Does not the moon delay to shine, when the circle of the sun is eclipsed? And when the auspicious day arrives you shall marry this daughter of mine." When she had said this, she took him and flew up into the air with him, and her daughter accompanied them. And she took him to the city of Srávastí, and deposited him in a garden, and then she disappeared with her daughter Ajinávatí. There king Prasenajit, who had returned from a distant hunting expedition, saw that prince of noble form and feature. The king approached him full of curiosity, and asked him his name and lineage, and then, being much delighted, courteously conducted him to his palace. It was full of troops of elephants, adorned with lines of horses, and looked like a pavilion for the Fortune of empire to rest in, when wearied with her wanderings. Wherever a man born to prosperity may be, felicities eagerly approach him, as women do their beloved one. This accounts for the fact that the king, being an admirer of excellence, gave Naraváhanadatta his own daughter, named Bhagírathayasas. And the prince lived happily there with her in great luxury, as if with Good Fortune created by the Disposer in flesh and blood for his delectation. One evening, when the lover of the night had arisen, raining joy into the eyes of men, looking like the full-orbed face [532] of the nymph of the eastern quarter, or rather the countenance of Bhagírathayasas charming as nectar, reflected in the pure mirror of the cloudless heaven, he drank wine with that fair one at her request on the top of a palace silvered over with the elixir of moonlight. He quaffed the liquor which was adorned with the reflection of his beloved's face, and so gave pleasure to his eyes as well as to his palate. And then he considered the moon as far inferior in beauty to his charmer's face, for it wanted the intoxicating [533] play of the eyes and eyebrows. And after his drinking-bout was over he went inside the house, and retired to his couch with Bhagírathayasas. Then Naraváhanadatta awoke from sleep, while his beloved was still sleeping, and suddenly calling to mind his home, exclaimed, "Through love for Bhagírathayasas I have, so to speak, forgotten my other wives; how can that have happened? But in this too Fate is all-powerful. Far away too are my ministers. Of them Marubhúti takes pleasure in nought but feats of prowess, and Harisikba is exclusively devoted to policy; of those two I do not now feel the need, but it grieves me that the dexterous Gomukha, who has been my friend in all emergencies, is far away from me." While he was thus lamenting, he suddenly heard the words "Ah! how sad!" uttered in a low soft tone, like that of a woman, and they at once banished sleep. When he heard them, he got up, and lighted a candle, and looked about, and he saw in the window a lovely female face. It seemed as if the Disposer had determined out of playfulness to show him a second but spotless moon not in the sky, as he had that night seen the spot-beflecked moon of heaven. And not being able to discern the rest of her body, but eager to behold it, his eyes being attracted by her beauty, he immediately said to himself, "Long ago, when the Daitya Átápin was impeding the creation of Brahmá, that god employed the artifice of sending him to Nandana, saying to him, 'Go there and see a very curious sight;' and when he got there, he saw only the foot of a woman, which was of wonderful beauty; and so he died from an insane desire to see the rest of her body. [534] In the same way it may be that the Disposer has produced this lady's face only to bring about my destruction." While he was making this momentary surmise, the lady displayed her shoot-like finger at the window, and beckoned to him to come towards her. Then he deliberately went out of the chamber in which his beloved was sleeping, and with eager impatience approached that heavenly lady: and when he came near, she exclaimed, "Madanamanchuká, they say that your husband is in love with another woman: alas! you are undone." When Naraváhanadatta heard this, he called to mind his beloved, and the fire of separation flamed up in his bosom, and he said to that fair one, "Who are you? Where did you see my beloved Madanamanchuká? And why have you come to me? Tell me!" Then the bold lady took the prince away to a distance in the night, and saying to him, "Hear the whole story," she thus began to speak. "There is in the city of Pushkarávatí a prince of the Vidyádharas named Pingalagándhára, who has become yellow with continually adoring the fire. Know that I am his unmarried daughter, named Prabhávatí, for he obtained me by the special favour of the god of fire, who was pleased with his adoration. I went to the city of Ashádbapura to visit my friend Vegavatí, and I did not find her there, as she had gone somewhere to perform asceticism. But hearing from her mother Prithivídeví that your beloved Madanamanchuká was there, I went to her. I beheld her emaciated with fasting, pale and squalid, with only one lock, weeping, talking only of your virtues, surrounded by tearful bands of Vidyádhara princesses, who were divided between grief produced by seeing her, and joy produced by hearing of you. She told me what you were like, and I comforted her by promising to bring you, for my mind was overpowered by pity for her, and attracted by your excellences. And finding out by means of my magic skill that you were here at present, I came to you, to inserve her interests and my own also. But when I found that you had forgotten your first love and were talking here of other persons, I bewailed the lot of that wife of yours, and exclaimed 'Ah! how sad!'" When the prince had been thus addressed by her, he became impatient and said, "Take me where she is, and impose on me whatever command you think fit." When the Vidyádharí Prabhávatí heard that, she flew up into the air with him, and proceeded to journey on through the moonlit night. And as she was going along, she saw a fire burning in a certain place, so she took Naraváhanadatta's hand, and moved round it, keeping it on the right. In this way the bold lady managed by an artifice to go through the ceremony of marriage with Naraváhanadatta, for all the actions of heavenly beings have some important end in view. [535] Then she pointed out to her beloved from the sky the earth looking like a sacrificial platform, the rivers like snakes, the mountains like ant-hills, and many other wonders did she show him from time to time, until at last she had gradually accomplished a long distance. Then Naraváhanadatta became thirsty with his long journey through the air, and begged for water; so she descended to earth from her airy path. And she took him to the corner of a forest, and placed him near a lake, which seemed to be full of molten silver, as its water was white with the rays of the moon. So his craving for water was satisfied by the draught which he drank in that beautiful forest, but there arose in him a fresh craving as he felt a desire to embrace that lovely lady. [536] But she, when pressed, would hardly consent; for her thoughts reverted with pity to Madanamanchuká, whom she had tried to comfort; in truth the noble-minded, when they have undertaken to forward the interests of others, put out of sight their own. And she said to him, "Do not think ill, my husband, of my coldness; I have an object in it; and now hear this story which will explain it." Story of the child that died of a broken heart because his mother forgot to bring him a sweetmeat. Once on a time, there lived in the city of Pátaliputra a certain widow who had one child; she was young, and beautiful, but poor. And she was in the habit of making love to a strange man for her gratification, and at night she used to leave her house and roam where she pleased. But, before she went, she used invariably to console her infant son by saying to him, "My boy, I will bring you a sweetmeat to-morrow morning," and every day she brought him one. And the child used to remain quiet at home, buoyed up by the hope of that sweetmeat. But one day she forgot, and did not bring him the sweetmeat. And when the child asked for the sweetmeat, she said to him, "Sweetmeat indeed! I know of no sweet, but my sweetheart." Then the child said to himself, "She has not brought me a sweetmeat, because she loves another better than me." So he lost all hope, and his heart broke. "So if I were over-eager to appropriate you whom I have long loved, and if Madanamanchuká, whom I consoled with the hope of a joyful reunion with you, were to hear of it, and lose all hope through me, her heart, which is as soft as a flower, would break. [537] It is this desire to spare her feelings, which prevents me from being so eager now for your society, before I have consoled her, though you are my beloved, dearer to me than life." When Prabhávatí said this to Naraváhanadatta, he was full of joy and astonishment, and he said to himself, "Well! Fate seems to take a pleasure in perpetually creating new marvels, since it has produced Prabhávatí, whose conduct is so inconceivably noble." With these thoughts in his mind, the prince lovingly praised her, and said, "Then take me where that Madanamanchuká is." When Prabhávatí heard that, she took him up, and in a moment carried him through the air to the mountain Áshádhapura. There she bestowed him on Madanamanchuká, whose body had long been drying up with grief, as a shower bestows fullness on a river. Then Naraváhanadatta beheld that fair one there, afflicted with separation, thin and pale, like a digit of the new moon. That reunion of those two seemed to restore them to life, and gave joy to the world, like the union of the night and the moon. And the pair embraced, scorched with the fire of separation, and as they were streaming with fatigue, they seemed to melt into one. Then they both partook at their ease of luxuries suddenly provided in the night by the might of Prabhávatí's science. And thanks to her science, no one there but Madanamanchuká, saw Naraváhanadatta. The next morning Naraváhanadatta proceeded to loose Madanamanchuká's one lock, [538] but she, overpowered with resentment against her enemy, said to her beloved, "Long ago I made this vow, 'That lock of mine must be loosed by my husband, when Mánasavega is slain, but not till then; and if he is not slain, I will wear it till my death, and then it shall be loosed by the birds, or consumed with fire.' But now you have loosed it, while this enemy of mine is still alive; that vexes my soul. For though Vegavatí flung him down on Agniparvata, he did not die of the fall. And you have now been made invisible here by Prabhávatí by means of her magic power; otherwise the followers of that enemy, who are continually moving near you here, would see you, and would not tolerate your presence." When Naraváhanadatta had been thus addressed by his wife, he, recognising the fact that the proper time for accomplishing his object had not yet arrived, said to her by way of calming her, "This desire of yours shall be fulfilled; I will soon slay that enemy; but first I must acquire the sciences; wait a little, my beloved." With speeches of this kind Naraváhanadatta consoled Madanamanchuká; and remained there in that city of the Vidyádharas. Then Prabhávatí disappeared herself, and, by the power of her magic science, bestowed in some incomprehensible way on Naraváhanadatta her own shape. And the prince lived happily there in her shape, and without fear of discovery, enjoying pleasures provided by her magic science. And all the people there thought, "This friend of Vegavatí's is attending on Madanamanchuká, partly out of regard for Vegavatí, and partly on account of the friendly feelings which she herself entertains for the captive princess;" for they all supposed that Naraváhanadatta was no other than Prabhávatí, as he was disguised in her shape: and this was the report that they carried to Mánasavega. Then, one day, something caused Madanamanchuká to relate to Naraváhanadatta her adventures in the following words, Madanamanchuká's account of her treatment while in captivity. When Mánasavega first brought me here, he tried to win me to his will by his magic power, endeavouring to alarm me by cruel actions. And then Siva appeared in a terrible form, with drawn sword and lolling tongue, and making an appalling roar, said to Mánasavega; "How is it that, while I still exist, thou dost presume to treat disrespectfully the wife of him who is destined to be emperor over all the Vidyádhara kings?" When the villain Mánasavega had been thus addressed by Siva, he fell on the earth vomiting blood from his mouth. Then the god disappeared, and that villain immediately recovered, and went to his own palace, and again began to practise cruelties against me. [539] Then in my terror, and in the agony of separation, I was thinking of abandoning my life, but the attendants of the harem came to me, and said to me by way of consolation, "Long ago this Mánasavega beheld a certain beautiful hermit maiden and tried to carry her off by force but was thus cursed by her relations; 'When, villain, you approach another's wife against her will, your head shall split into a thousand fragments;' so he will never force himself on the wife of another, do not be afraid. Moreover you will soon be reunited with your husband, as the god announced." Soon after the maids had said this to me, Vegavatí, the sister of that Mánasavega, came to me to talk me over; but when she saw me, she was filled with compassion, and she comforted me by promising to bring you; and you already know how she found you. Then Prithivídeví, the good mother of that wicked Mánasavega, came to me, looking, with her garments white as moonlight, like the orb of Luna without a spot, seeming to bathe me with nectar by her charming appearance; and with a loving manner she said to me, "Why do you refuse food and so injure your bodily health, though you are destined to great prosperity? And do not say to yourself, 'How can I eat an enemy's food?' For my daughter Vegavatí has a share in this kingdom, bestowed on her by her father, and she is your friend, for your husband has married her. Accordingly her wealth, as belonging to your husband, is yours as much as hers. So enjoy it. What I tell you is true, for I have discovered it by my magic knowledge." This she said, and confirmed it with an oath, and then, being attached to me, on account of her daughter's connexion, she fed me with food suited to my condition. Then Vegavatí came here with you, and conquered her brother, and saved you; the sequel I do not know. So I, remembering the magic skill of Vegavatí and the announcement of the god, did not surrender my life, which was supported by the hope of regaining you, and, thanks to the power of the noble Prabhávatí, I have regained you, although I am thus beset by my enemies. But my only anxiety is as to what would happen to us, if Prabhávatí here were deprived of her power, and you were so to lose her shape, which she has bestowed on you by way of disguise. This and other such things did Madanamanchuká say, while the brave Naraváhanadatta remained there with her, endeavouring to console her. But one night Prabhávatí went to her father's palace, and in the morning Naraváhanadatta, owing to her being at a distance, lost her shape, which she had bestowed on him. And next day the attendants beheld him there in male form, and they all ran bewildered and alarmed to the king's court and said, "Here is an adulterer crept in;" thrusting aside the terrified Madanamanchuká, who tried to stop them. Then king Mánasavega came there at full speed, accompanied by his army, and surrounded him. Then the king's mother Prithivídeví hurried thither and said to him, "It will not do for you or me either to put this man to death. For he is no adulterer, but Naraváhanadatta, the son of the king of Vatsa, who has come here to visit his own wife. I know this by my magic power; why are you so blinded with wrath that you cannot see it? Moreover I am bound to honour him, as he is my son-in-law, and sprung from the race of the moon." When Mánasavega's mother said this to him, he flew into a passion, and said, "Then he is my enemy." Then his mother, out of love for her son-in-law, used another argument with him. She said, "My son, you will not be allowed to act wrongfully in the world of the Vidyádharas. For here there exists a court of the Vidyádharas to protect the right. So accuse him before the president of that court [540]. Whatever steps you take with regard to your captive in accordance with the court's decision will be commendable; but if you act otherwise, the Vidyádharas will be displeased, and the gods will not tolerate it." Mánasavega, out of respect for his mother, consented to follow her advice, and attempted to have Naraváhanadatta bound, with the intention of taking him before the court. But he, unable to endure the indignity of being bound, tore a pillar from the arched gateway, and killed with it a great number of his captor's servants. And the hero, whose valour was godlike, snatched a sword from one of those that he had killed, and at once slew with it some more of his opponents. Then Mánasavega fettered him by his superhuman powers, and took him, with his wife, before the court. Then the Vidyádharas assembled there from all quarters, summoned by the loud sound of a drum, even as the gods assemble in Sudharmá. And the president of the court, king Váyupatha, came there, and sat down on a jewelled throne surrounded by Vidyádharas, and fanned by chowries which waved to and fro, as if to winnow away all injustice. And the wicked Mánasavega stood in front of him, and said as follows, "This enemy of mine, who though a mortal, has violated my harem, and seduced my sister, ought immediately to be put to death; especially as he actually wishes to be our sovereign." When the president heard this, he called on Naraváhanadatta for an answer, and the hero said in a confident tone, "That is a court, where there is a president; he is a president, who says what is just; that is just, in which there is truth; that is truth in which there is no deceit. Here I am bound by magic, and on the floor, but my adversary here is on a seat, and free; what fair controversy can there be between us?" When Váyupatha heard this, he made Mánasavega also sit upon the floor, as was just, and had Naraváhanadatta set free from his bonds. Then before Váyupatha, and in the hearing of all, Naraváhanadatta made the following reply to the accusations of Mánasavega; "Pray, whose harem have I violated by coming to visit my own wife, Madanamanchuká here, who has been carried off by this fellow? And if his sister came and tricked me into marrying her by assuming my wife's form, what fault have I committed in this? As for my desiring empire, is there any one that does not desire all sorts of things?" When king Váyupatha heard this, he reflected a little, and said, "This noble fellow says what is quite just; take care, my good Mánasavega, that you do not act unjustly towards one, whom great exaltation awaits." Though Váyupatha said this, Mánasavega, blinded with delusion, refused to turn from his wicked way; and then Váyupatha flew into a passion. Then, out of regard for justice, he engaged in a contest with Mánasavega, in which fully equipped armies were employed on both sides. For resolute men, when they sit on the seat of justice, keep only the right in view, and look upon the mighty as weak, and one of their own race as an alien. [541] And then Naraváhanadatta, looking towards the nymphs of heaven, who were gazing at the scene with intense interest, said to Mánasavega, "Lay aside your magic disguises, and fight with me in visible shape, in order that I may give you a specimen of my prowess by slaying you with one blow." Accordingly those Vidyádharas there remained quarrelling among themselves, when suddenly a splendid pillar in the court cleft asunder in the middle with a loud noise, [542] and Siva issued from it in his terrific form. He filled the whole sky, in colour like antimony; he hid the sun; the gleams of his fiery eyes flickered like flashes of lightning; his shining teeth were like cranes flying in a long row; and so he was terrible like a roaring cloud of the great day of doom. The great god exclaimed "Villain, this future emperor of the Vidyádharas shall not be insulted," and with these words he dismissed Mánasavega with face cast down, and encouraged Váyupatha. And then the adorable one took Naraváhanadatta up in his arms, and in order to preserve his life, carried him in this way to the beautiful and happy mountain Rishyamúka, and after setting him down there, disappeared. And then the quarrel among the Vidyádharas in that court came to an end, and Váyupatha went home again accompanied by the other Vidyádharas his friends. But Mánasavega, making Madanamanchuká, who was distracted with joy and grief, precede him, went despondent to Áshádhapura his own dwelling. CHAPTER CVII. I think, a hero's prosperity must be unequal; Fate again and again severely tests firmness by the ordeals of happiness and misery: this explains why the fickle goddess kept uniting Naraváhanadatta to wife after wife, when he was alone in those remote regions, and then separated him from them. Then, while he was residing on the mountain Rishyamúka, his beloved Prabhávatí came up to him, and said, "It was owing to the misfortune of my not being present that Mánasavega carried you off on that occasion to the court, with the intention of doing you an injury. When I heard of it, I at once went there, and by means of my magic power I produced the delusion of an appearance of the god, and brought you here. For, though the Vidyádharas are mighty, their influence does not extend over this mountain, for this is the domain of the Siddhas. [543] Indeed even my science is of no avail here for that reason, and that grieves me, for how will you subsist on the products of the forest as your only food?" When she had said this, Naraváhanadatta remained with her there, longing for the time of deliverance, thinking on Madanamanchuká. And on the banks of the sanctifying Pampá-lake near that mountain, he ate fruits and roots of heavenly flavour, and he drank the holy water of the lake which was rendered delicious and fragrant by the fruits dropped from trees on its bank, as a relish to his meal of deer's flesh. [544] And he lived at the foot of trees and in the interior of caverns, and so he imitated the conduct of Ráma who once lived in the forests of that region. And Prabhávatí, beholding there various hermitages once occupied by Ráma, told him the story of Ráma for his amusement. Story of Ráma. In this forest Ráma once dwelt accompanied by Lakshmana, and waited on by Sítá, in the society of hermits, making to himself a hut at the foot of a tree. And Sítá, perfuming the whole forest with the perfume given her by Anasúyá, remained here in the midst of the hermits' wives, wearing a robe of bark. Here the Daitya Dundubhi was slain in a cave by Báli, which was the original cause of the enmity between Báli and Sugríva. For Sugríva, wrongly supposing that the Daitya had slain Báli, blocked up the entrance of the cave with mountains, and went away terrified. But Báli broke through the obstruction, and came out, and banished Sugríva, saying, "This fellow imprisoned me in the cave because he wanted to get my kingdom." But Sugríva fled, and came and established himself on this plateau of Rishyamúka with the lords of the monkeys, of whom Hanumán was the chief. Then Rávana came here, and beguiling the soul of Ráma with the phantom of a golden deer, he carried off his wife the daughter of Janaka. Then the descendant of Raghu, who longed for news of Sítá, made an alliance with Sugríva, who desired the slaughter of Báli. And in order to let his might be known, he cleft seven palm-trees here with an arrow, while the mighty Báli with great difficulty cleft one of them. And then the hero went hence to Kishkindhya, and after slaying Báli with a single arrow, which he launched as if in sport, gave his kingdom to Sugríva. Then the followers of Sugríva, headed by Hanumán, went hence in every direction to gain information about Sítá. And Ráma remained here during the rainy season with the roaring clouds, which seemed to share his grief shedding showery tear-drops. At last Hanumán crossed the sea at the suggestion of Sampáti, and by great exertions obtained for Ráma the required information; whereupon he marched with the monkeys, and threw a bridge over the sea, and killed his enemy the lord of Lanká, and brought back queen Sítá in the flying chariot, passing over this place. "So, my husband, you also shall attain good fortune: successes come of their own accord to heroes who remain resolute in misfortunes." This and other such tales did Prabhávatí tell, while she roamed about here and there for her pleasure with Naraváhanadatta. And one day, as he was in the neighbourhood of Pampá, two Vidyádharís, Dhanavatí and Ajinávatí, descended from heaven and approached him. These were the two ladies who carried him from the city of the Gandharvas to the city of Srávastí, where he [545] married Bhagírathayasas. And while Ajinávatí was conversing with Prabhávatí as an old friend, Dhanavatí thus addressed Naraváhanadatta, "I long ago bestowed on you this daughter of mine Ajinávatí, as far as promises could do it; so marry her; for the day of your exaltation is nigh at hand." Prabhávatí, out of love for her friend, and Naraváhanadatta both agreed to this proposal. Then Dhanavatí bestowed that daughter of hers Ajinávatí on that son of the king of Vatsa, with appropriate ceremonies. And she celebrated the great feast of her daughter's wedding in such style that the glorious and heavenly preparations she had accumulated by means of her magic knowledge made it really beautiful. Then the next day she said to Naraváhanadatta, "My son, it will never do for you to remain long in a nondescript place like this: for the Vidyádharas are a deceitful race, and you have no business here. So depart now with your wife for your own city of Kausámbí; and I will come there with my son Chandasinha and with the Vidyádhara chiefs that follow me, to ensure your success." [546] When Dhanavatí had said this, she mounted up into the sky, illuminating it, as it were, with moonlight, though it was day, by the gleam of her white body and raiment. And Prabhávatí and Ajinávatí carried Naraváhanadatta through the air to his city of Kausámbí. When he reached the garden of the city, he descended from heaven into his capital, and was seen by his attendants. And there arose there a cry from the people on all sides, "We are indeed happy; here is the prince come back." Then the king of Vatsa, hearing of it, came there quickly in high delight, as if irrigated with a sudden shower of nectar, with Vásavadattá and Padmávatí, and the prince's wives, Ratnaprabhá and the rest; and Yaugandharáyana and the other ministers of the king of Vatsa, and Kalingasená and the prince's own ministers, Gomukha and his fellows, approached him in order of precedence as eagerly as travellers make for a lake in the hot season. And they saw the hero, whose high birth qualified him for a lofty station, sitting between his two wives, like Krishna between Rukminí and Satyabhámá. And when they saw him, they hid their eyes with tears of joy, as if for fear lest they should leap out of their skins in their delight. And the king of Vatsa and his queens embraced after a long absence that son of theirs, and could not let him go, for they were, as it were, riveted to him by the hairs of their bodies erect from joy. Then a great feast began by beat of drum, and Vegavatí, the daughter of Vegavat, and sister of Mánasavega, who was married to Naraváhanadatta, finding it all out by the might of her recovered science, came down to Kausámbí through the air, and fell at the feet of her father-in-law and mother-in-law, and prostrating herself before her husband, said to him, "Auspicious sir, after I had become weak by my exertions on your behalf, I recovered my magic powers by self-mortification in a grove of ascetics and now I have returned into your presence." When she had said this, she was welcomed by her husband and the others, and she repaired to her friends Prabhávatí, and Ajinávatí. They embraced her and made her sit between them; and at that moment Dhanavatí, the mother of Ajinávatí, also arrived; and various kings of the Vidyádharas came with her, surrounded by their forces, that hid the heaven like clouds; her own heroic son, the strong-armed Chandasinha, and a powerful relation of hers, Amitagati by name, and Pingalagándhára the mighty father of Prabhávatí, and Váyupatha, the president of the court, who had previously declared himself on Naraváhanadatta's side, and the heroic king Hemaprabha, the father of Ratnaprabhá, accompanied by his son Vajraprabha and followed by his army. And Ságaradatta the king of the Gandharvas came there, accompanied by his daughter Gandharvadattá, and by Chitrángada. And when they arrived, they were becomingly honoured by the king of Vatsa and his son, and sat in due order on thrones. And immediately king Pingalagándhára said to his son-in-law Naraváhanadatta, as he was in the hall of assembly, "King, you have been appointed by the god [547] emperor over us all, and it is owing to our great love for you, that we have all come to you. And queen Dhanavatí here, your mother-in-law, a strict votary, possessing divine knowledge, wearing the rosary, and the skin of the black antelope, like an incarnation of Durgá, or Sávitrí having acquired magic powers, an object of reverence to the noblest Vidyádharas, has made herself ready to protect you; so you are certain to prosper in your undertaking; but listen to what I am about to say. There are two divisions of the Vidyádhara territory [548] on the Himálayas here, the northern and the southern, both extending over many peaks of that range; the northern division is on the other side of Kailása, but the southern is on this side of it. And this Amitagati here has just performed a difficult penance on mount Kailása, in order to obtain the sovereignty over the northern division, and propitiated Siva. And Siva made this revelation to him, 'Naraváhanadatta thy emperor will accomplish thy desire,' so he has come here to you. In that division there is a chief monarch, named Mandaradeva, who is evilly disposed, but though mighty, he will be easy for you to conquer, when you have obtained the sciences peculiar to the Vidyádharas. "But the king named Gaurímunda, who rules in the midst of the southern division, is evil-minded and exceedingly hard to conquer on account of the might of his magic science. Moreover he is a great friend of your enemy Mánasavega. Until he is overcome, your undertaking will not prosper; so acquire as quickly as possible great and transcendent power of science." When Pingalagándhára had said this, Dhanavatí spake, "Good, my son, it is as this king tells thee. Go hence to the land of the Siddhas [549] and propitiate the god Siva, in order that thou mayest obtain the magic sciences, for how can there be any excelling without his favour? And these kings will be assembled there to protect thee." Then Chitrángada said, "It is even so; but I will advance in front of all; let us conquer our enemies." Then Naraváhanadatta determined to do as they had advised, and he performed the auspicious ceremony before setting out, and bowed at the feet of his tearful parents, and other superiors, and received their blessing, and then ascended with his wives and ministers a splendid palanquin provided by the skill of Amitagati, and started on his expedition, obscuring the heaven with his forces, that resembled the water of the sea raised by the wind at the end of a kalpa, as it were proclaiming by the echoes of his army's roar on the limits of the horizon, that the emperor of the Vidyádharas had come to visit them. And he was rapidly conducted by the king of the Gandharvas and the chiefs of the Vidyádharas and Dhanavatí to that mountain, which was the domain of the Siddhas. There the Siddhas prescribed for him a course of self-mortification, and he performed asceticism by sleeping on the ground, bathing in the early morning, and eating fruits. And the kings of the Vidyádharas remained surrounding him on every side, guarding him unweariedly day and night. And the Vidyádhara princesses, contemplating him eagerly while he was performing his penance, seemed with the gleams of their eyes to clothe him in the skin of a black antelope. Others shewed by their eyes turned inwards out of anxiety for him, and their hands placed on their breasts, that he had at once entered their hearts. And five more noble maidens of the Vidyádhara race, beholding him, were inflamed with the fire of love, and made this agreement together, "We five friends must select this prince as our common husband, and we must marry him at the same time, not separately; if one of us marries him separately, the rest must enter the fire on account of that violation of friendship." While the heavenly maidens were thus agitated at the sight of him, suddenly great portents manifested themselves in the grove of ascetics. A very terrible wind blew, uprooting splendid trees, as if to shew that even thus in that place should heroes fall in fight; and the earth trembled as if anxious as to what all that could mean, and the hills cleft asunder, as if to give an opening for the terrified to escape, and the sky, rumbling awfully, though cloudless, [550] seemed to say, "Ye Vidyádharas, guard, guard to the best of your power, this emperor of yours." And Naraváhanadatta, in the midst of the alarm produced by these portents, remained unmoved, meditating upon the adorable three-eyed god; and the heroic kings of the Gandharvas and lords of the Vidyádharas remained guarding him, ready for battle, expecting some calamity; and they uttered war-cries, and agitated the forest of their lithe swords, as if to scare away the portents that announced the approach of evil. And the next day after this the army of the Vidyádharas was suddenly seen in the sky, dense as a cloud at the end of the kalpa, uttering a terrible shout. Then Dhanavatí, calling to mind her magic science, said, "This is Gaurímunda come with Mánasavega." Then those kings of the Vidyádharas and the Gandharvas raised their weapons, but Gaurímunda with Mánasavega rushed upon them exclaiming, "What right has a mere man to rank with beings like us? So I will to-day crush your pride, you sky-goers that take part with him." When Gaurímunda said this, Chitrángada rushed upon him angrily, and attacked him. And king Ságaradatta, the sovereign of the Gandharvas, and Chandasinha, and Amitagati, and king Váyupatha, and Pingalagándhára, and all the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, great heroes all, rushed upon the wicked Mánasavega, roaring like lions, followed by the whole of their forces. And right terrible was that storm of battle, thick with the clouds of dust raised by the army, with the gleams of weapons for flashes of lightning, and a falling rain of blood. And so Chitrángada and his friends made, as it were, a great sacrifice for the demons, which was full of blood for wine, and in which the heads of enemies were strewn as an offering. And streams of gore flowed away, full of bodies for alligators, and floating weapons for snakes, and in which marrow intermingled took the place of cuttle-fish bone. Then Gaurímunda, as his army was slain, and he himself was nigh to death, called to mind the magic science of Gaurí, which he had formerly propitiated and made well-disposed to him; and that science appeared in visible form, with three eyes, armed with the trident, [551] and paralysed the chief heroes of Naraváhanadatta's army. Then Gaurímunda, having regained strength, rushed with a loud shout towards Naraváhanadatta, and fell on him to try his strength in wrestling. And being beaten by him in wrestling, the cogging Vidyádhara again summoned up that science, and by its power he seized his antagonist in his arms and flew up to the sky. However, he was prevented by the might of Dhanavatí's science from slaying the prince, so he flung him down on the mountain of fire. But Mánasavega seized his comrades Gomukha and the rest, and flew up into the sky with them, and flung them at random in all directions. But, after they had been flung up, they were preserved by a science in visible shape employed by Dhanavatí, and placed in different spots on the earth. And that science comforted those heroes, one by one, saying to them, "You will soon recover that master of yours successful and flourishing," and having said this it disappeared. Then Gaurímunda went back home with Mánasavega, thinking that their side had been victorious. But Dhanavatí said, "Naraváhanadatta will return to you after he has attained his object, no harm will befall him;" and thereupon the lords of the Gandharvas and princes of the Vidyádharas, Chitrángada and the others, flung off their paralysing stupor, and went for the present to their own abodes. And Dhanavatí took her daughter Ajinávatí, with all her fellow-wives, and went to her own home. Mánasavega, for his part, went and said to Madanamanchuká, "Your husband is slain; so you had better marry me;" but she, standing in front of him, said to him laughing, "He will slay you, no one can slay him, as he has been appointed by the god." But when Naraváhanadatta was being hurled down by his enemy on the mountain of fire, a certain heavenly being came there, and received him; and after preserving his life, he took him quickly to the cool bank of the Mandákiní. And when Naraváhanadatta asked him who he was, he comforted him, and said to him, "I, prince, am a king of the Vidyádharas named Amritaprabha, and I have been sent by Siva on the present occasion to save your life. Here is the mountain of Kailása in front of you, the dwelling-place of that god; if you propitiate Siva there, you will obtain unimpeded felicity. So, come, I will take you there." When that noble Vidyádhara had said this, he immediately conveyed him there, and took leave of him, and departed. But Naraváhanadatta, when he had reached Kailása, propitiated with asceticism Ganesa, whom he found there in front of him. And after obtaining his permission, he entered the hermitage of Siva, emaciated with self-mortification, and he beheld Nandin at the door. He devoutly circumambulated him, and then Nandin said to him, "Thou hast well-nigh attained all thy ends; for all the obstacles that hindered thee have now been overcome; so remain here, and perform a strict course of asceticism that will subdue sin, until thou shalt have propitiated the adorable god; for successes depend on purity." When Nandin had said this, Naraváhanadatta began a severe course of penance there, living on air and meditating on the god Siva and the goddess Párvatí. And the adorable god Siva, pleased with his asceticism, granted him a vision of himself, and accompanied by the goddess, thus spake to the prince, as he bent before him, "Become now emperor over all the Vidyádharas, and let all the most transcendent sciences be immediately revealed to thee! By my favour thou shalt become invincible by thy enemies, and, as thou shalt be proof against cut or thrust, thou shalt slay all thy foes. And when thou appearest, the sciences of thy enemies shall be of no avail against thee. So go forth: even the science of Gaurí shall be subject to thee." When Siva and Gaurí had bestowed these boons on Naraváhanadatta, the god also gave him a great imperial chariot, in the form of a lotus, made by Brahmá. Then all the sciences presented themselves to the prince in bodily form, and expressed their desire to carry out his orders by saying, "What do you enjoin on us, that we may perform it?" Accordingly Naraváhanadatta, having obtained many boons, bowed before the great god, and ascended the heavenly lotus-chariot, after he had received permission from him to depart, and went first to the city of Amitagati, named Vakrapura; and as he went, the sciences shewed him the path, and the bards of the Siddhas sang his praises. And Amitagati, seeing him from a distance, as he came along through the air, mounted on a chariot, advanced to meet him and bowed before him, and made him enter his palace. And when he described how he had obtained all these magic powers, Amitagati was so delighted that he gave him as a present his own daughter named Sulochaná. And with her, thus obtained, like a second imperial fortune of the Vidyádhara race, the emperor joyfully passed that day as one long festival. CHAPTER CVIII. The next day, as the new emperor Naraváhanadatta was sitting in Vakrapura, in the hall of audience, a certain man descended from heaven, with a wand in his hand, and came up to him, and bowing before him, said to him, "Know, O king, that I am Pauraruehideva the hereditary warder of the emperor of the Vidyádharas, and I am come here to tender my services to you in that capacity." When Naraváhanadatta heard this, he looked at the face of Amitagati; and he said, "It is true, my liege:" so Naraváhanadatta gladly admitted the new-comer to the office of warder. Then Dhanavatí, finding out by her power what had occurred, with his wives Vegavatí and the others, and her son Chandasinha, and king Pingalagándhára with Váyupatha, and Chitrángada with Ságaradatta, and Hemaprabha and the others came there, obscuring the sun with their armies; as if declaring beforehand that they would endure no fire and heat in their foes. When they arrived, they fell at the feet of that emperor, and he honoured them with a welcome as their rank deserved, but, out of great veneration, he himself fell at the feet of Dhanavatí, and she, being highly pleased, loaded that son-in-law of her's with blessings. And when he told the story of his obtaining magic powers, Chandasinha and the others were exceedingly gratified at their emperor's success. And the emperor, seeing that his wives had arrived in his presence, said to Dhanavatí, "Where are my ministers?" And she answered him, "When they had been flung in all directions by Mánasavega, I saved them by the help of a mighty science, and placed them in different spots." Then he had them brought by a science incarnate in bodily form; and they came and enquired after his welfare and clung to his feet, and then he said to them, "Why and how and where have you spent so many days? Tell me one by one your marvellous tale." Then Gomukha told his story first. Gomukha's account of his adventures. When I was flung away by the enemy on that occasion, some goddess bore me up in her hands, and comforted me, and placed me in a distant forest, and disappeared. Then I was minded in my affliction to abandon the body by hurling myself from a precipice; but a certain ascetic came up to me and dissuaded me saying, "Do not act thus, Gomukha, you will again behold your master when he has gained his object." Then I said to him, "Who are you, and how do you know that?" He answered, "Come to my hermitage, and there I will tell you." Then I went with that man, who by his knowing my name had proved the greatness of his knowledge, to his hermitage, which was called Sivakshetra. There he entertained me and told me his story in the following words: Story of Nágasvámin and the witches. I am a Bráhman named Nágasvámin, from a city called Kundina. When my father went to heaven, I went to Pátaliputra, and repaired to a teacher named Jayadatta, to acquire learning. But in spite of all the teaching that I got, I was so stupid that I did not manage to learn a single syllable; so all the pupils there made game of me. Then, being the victim of contempt, I set out on a pilgrimage to the shrine of the goddess Durgá in the Vindhya mountains; and when I had got halfway I came across a city named Vakrolaka. I went into that city to beg; and in one house the mistress gave me with my alms a red lotus. I took it, and went on to another house, and there the mistress said to me, when she saw me, "Alas! a witch has secured possession of you. See! she has given you a man's hand, [552] which she has passed off on you for a red lotus." When I heard that, I looked myself, and lo! it was no lotus, but a human hand. I flung it away, and fell at her feet, and said, "Mother, devise some expedient for me, that I may live." When she heard this she said, "Go! in a village of the name of Karabha, three yojanas distant from this place, there is a Bráhman of the name of Devarakshita. He has in his house a splendid brown cow, an incarnation of Surabhi; she will protect you during this night, if you repair to her for refuge." When she said this, I ran full of fear, and reached, at the close of the day, the house of that Bráhman in the village of Karabha. When I had entered, I beheld that brown cow, and I worshipped her and said, "Being terrified, goddess, I have come to you for protection." And just then, night having set in, that witch came there through the air with other witches, threatening me, longing for my flesh and blood. When the brown cow saw that, she placed me between her hoofs, and defended me, fighting against those witches all the livelong night. In the morning they went away, and the cow said to me with an articulate voice, "My son, I shall not be able to protect you the next night. So go on further; at a distance of five yojanas from this place there is a mighty Pásupata ascetic named Bhútisiva, dwelling in a temple of Siva in a forest. He possesses supernatural knowledge, and he will protect you for this one night, if you take refuge with him." When I heard that, I bowed before her, and set out from that place; and I soon reached that Bhútisiva, and took refuge with him. And at night those very same witches came there also in the very same way. Then that Bhútisiva made me enter the inner apartment of his house, [553] and taking up a position at the door, trident in hand, kept off the witches. Next morning, Bhútisiva, having conquered them, gave me food, and said to me, "Bráhman, I shall not be able to protect you any longer; but in a village named Sandhyávása, at a distance of ten yojanas from this place, there is a Bráhman named Vasumati: go to him: and if you manage to get through this third night, you will escape altogether." When he said this to me, I bowed before him, and set out from that place. But on account of the length of the journey that I had to make, the sun set before I had reached my destination. And when night had set in, the witches pursued after me and caught me. And they seized me and went off with me through the air much pleased. But thereupon some other witches of great power flew past them in front. And suddenly there arose between the two parties a tumultuous fight. And in the confusion I escaped from the hands of my captors, and fell to the ground in a very desolate part of the country. [554] And there I saw a certain great palace, which seemed to say to me with its open door, "Come in." So I fled into it bewildered with fear, and I beheld a lady of wonderful beauty, surrounded with a hundred ladies-in-waiting, gleaming with brightness, like a protecting herb [555] that shines in the night, made by the Creator out of pity for me. I immediately recovered my spirits and questioned her, and she said to me, "I am a Yakshiní named Sumitrá, and I am thus here owing to a curse. And in order that my curse may come to an end, I have been directed to marry a mortal: so marry me, as you have unexpectedly arrived here; fear not." When she had said this, she quickly gave orders to her servants; and she provided me, to my great delight, with baths and unguents, food and drink, and garments. Strange was the contrast between the terror caused by those witches and the happiness that immediately followed! Even fate itself cannot comprehend the principle that makes men fall into happiness or misery. Then I remained there in happiness with that Yakshiní during those days; but at last one day she said to me of her own accord, "Bráhman, my curse is at an end; so I must leave this place at once. However, by my favour you shall have divine insight; and, though an ascetic, you shall have all enjoyments at your command, and be free from fear. But as long as you are here, do not visit the middle block of buildings of this palace of mine." When she had said this, she disappeared; and thereupon, I, out of curiosity, went up to the middle block of buildings, and there I saw a horse. I went up to the horse, and he flung me from him with a kick; and immediately I found myself in this temple of Siva. [556] Since that time I have remained here, and I have gradually acquired supernatural powers. Accordingly, though I am a mortal, I possess knowledge of the three times. In the same way do all men in this world find successes beset with difficulties. So do you remain in this place; Siva will bestow on you the success that you desire. When that wise being had told me all this, I conceived hopes of recovering you, and I remained there some days in his hermitage. And to-day, my lord, Siva in a dream informed me of your success, and some heavenly nymph seized me up, and brought me here. This is the history of my adventures. When Gomukha had said this, he stopped, and then Marubhúti began to tell his tale in the presence of Naraváhanadatta. Marubhúti's account of his adventures. When I was flung away on that occasion by Mánasavega, some divinity took me up in her hands, and placing me in a distant forest, disappeared. Then I wandered about afflicted and anxious to obtain some means of committing suicide, when I saw a certain hermitage encircled with a river. I entered it, and beheld an ascetic with matted hair sitting on a slab of rock, and I bowed before him and went up to him. He said to me, "Who are you, and how did you reach this uninhabited land?" Thereupon, I told him my whole story. Then he understood and said to me, "Do not slay yourself now! You shall learn here the truth about your master, and afterwards you shall do what is fitting." In accordance with this advice of his I remained there, eager for tidings of you, my liege: and while I was there, some heavenly nymphs came to bathe in the river. Then the hermit said to me, "Go quickly and carry off the clothes of one of those nymphs bathing there; [557] and then you will learn tidings of your master." When I heard that, I did as he advised me, and that nymph, whose garments I had taken, followed me, with her bathing-dress dripping with moisture, [558] and with her arms crossed in front of her breasts. That hermit said to her, "If you tell us tidings of Naraváhanadatta, you may have back your two garments." Then she said, "Naraváhanadatta is at present on mount Kailása, engaged in worshipping Siva, and in a few days he will be the emperor of the Vidyádharas." After she had said this, that heavenly nymph became, in virtue of a curse, the wife of that ascetic, having made acquaintance with him by conversing with him. [559] So the ascetic lived with that Vidyádharí, and on account of her prophecy I conceived the hope of being reunited with you and I went on living there. And in a few days the heavenly nymph became pregnant, and brought forth a child, and she said to the ascetic, "My curse has been brought to an end by living with you. [560] If you desire to see any more of me, cook this child of mine with rice and eat it; then you will be reunited to me." When she had said this, she went away, and that ascetic cooked her child with rice, and ate it: and then he flew up into the air and followed her. At first I was unwilling to eat of that dish, though he urged me to do so; but seeing that eating of it bestowed supernatural powers, I took two grains of rice from the cooking-vessel, and ate them. That produced in me the effect that wherever I spat, gold [561] was immediately produced. Then I roamed about relieved from my poverty, and at last I reached a town. There I lived in the house of a hetæra, and, thanks to the gold I was able to produce, indulged in the most lavish expenditure; but the kuttaní, eager to discover my secret, treacherously gave me an emetic. That made me vomit, and in the process the two grains of rice, that I had previously eaten, came out of my mouth, looking like two glittering rubies. And no sooner had they come out, than the kuttaní snapped them up, and swallowed them. So I lost my power of producing gold, of which the kuttaní thus deprived me. I thought to myself, "Siva still retains his crescent and Vishnu his kaustubha jewel; but I know what would be the result, if those two deities were to fall into the clutches of a kuttaní. [562] But such is this world, full of marvels, full of frauds; who can fathom it, or the sea, at any time?" With such sad reflections in my bosom I went despondent to a temple of Durgá, to propitiate the goddess with asceticism, in order to recover you. And after I had fasted for three nights, the goddess gave me this command in a dream, "Thy master has obtained all he desires: go, and behold him;" upon hearing this I woke up; and this very morning some goddess carried me to your feet; this, prince, is the story of my adventures. When Marubhúti had said this, Naraváhanadatta and his courtiers laughed at him for having been tricked by a kuttaní. Harisikha's account of his adventures. Then Harisikha said;--On that occasion when I was seized by my enemy, some divinity saved me and deposited me in Ujjayiní. There I was so unhappy that I conceived the design of abandoning the body; so at nightfall I went into the cemetery and proceeded to construct a pyre with the logs there. I lighted it and began to worship the fire, and while I was thus engaged, a prince of the demons, named Tálajangha, came up to me, and said to me, "Why do you enter the fire? Your master is alive, and you shall be united with him, now that he has obtained the supernatural powers he desired." With these words, the demon, though naturally cruel, lovingly dissuaded me from death; even some stones melt when fate is propitious. Then I went and remained for a long time performing asceticism in front of the god; and some divinity has to-day brought me to your side, my liege. Thus Harisikha told his tale, and the others in their turn told theirs, and then, at the suggestion of Amitagati, king Naraváhanadatta incited the venerable Dhanavatí, adored by the Vidyádharas, to bestow all the sciences on those ministers of his also. Then all his ministers also became Vidyádharas; and Dhanavatí said, "Now conquer your enemies;" so on a fortunate day the hero gave orders that the imperial troops should march out towards the city of Gaurímunda, called Govindakúta. Then the army of the Vidyádharas mounted up into the sky, obscuring the sun, looking like a rising of Ráhu out of due time chilling to the foe. And Naraváhanadatta himself ascended the pericarp of the lotus-chariot, and placed his wives on the filaments, and his friends on the leaves, and preceded by Chandasinha and the others, set out through the air to conquer his enemies. And when he had completed half his journey, he came to the palace of Dhanavatí which was called Mátangapura, and he stayed there that day, and she did the honours of the house to him. And while he was there, he sent an ambassador to challenge to the combat the Vidyádhara princes Gaurímunda and Mánasavega. The next day he deposited his wives in Mátangapura, and went with the Vidyádhara kings to Govindakúta. There Gaurímunda and Mánasavega came out to fight with them, and Chandasinha and his colleagues met them face to face. When the battle began, brave warriors fell like trees marked out for the axe, and torrents of blood flowed on the mountain Govindakúta. The combat, eager to devour the lives of heroes, yawned like a demon of destruction, with tongues in the form of flexible swords greedily licking up blood. [563] That great feast of slaughter, terrible with the rhythmic clapping of hands on the part of Vetálas drunk with blood and flesh, and covered with palpitating corpses for dancers, gave great delight to the demons. Then Mánasavega met Naraváhanadatta face to face in the conflict, and the prince himself rushed on him in wrath. And having rushed on him, that emperor seized the villain by the hair, and at once cut off his head with his sword. When Gaurímunda saw that, he too sprang forward in a fury, and Naraváhanadatta dragged him along by the hair, for the power of his science left him as soon as he saw the prince, and flung him on the ground, and seizing his legs whirled him round in the air, and dashed him to pieces on a rock. In this way he slew Gaurímunda and Mánasavega; and the rest of their army, being terrified, [564] took to flight. And a rain of flowers fell into the lap of that emperor, and all the gods in heaven exclaimed, "Bravo! Bravo!" Then Naraváhanadatta, with all those kings that followed him, entered the palace of Gaurímunda; and immediately the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, who were connected with Gaurímunda's party, came and submitted humbly to his sway. Then Dhanavatí came up to that sovereign in the midst of the rejoicings on account of his having taken possession of his kingdom after slaying all his enemies, and said to him, "My liege, Gaurímunda has left a daughter named Ihátmatiká, the belle of the three worlds; you should marry that maiden." When she said this to the king, he immediately sent for the girl, and married her, and passed the day very happily in her society. The next morning he sent Vegavatí and Prabhávatí, and had Madanamanchuká brought by them from the town of Mánasavega. When brought, she looked upon that hero in his prosperity, who had destroyed the darkness of his enemies, with face expanded and wet with tears of joy; and at the end of her night of separation she enjoyed indescribable happiness, like a lotus-bed, the open flowers of which are wet with dew. Then he bestowed on her all the sciences, and having pined for her long, he exulted in the society of his beloved, who had thus in a moment attained the rank of a Vidyádharí. And in the garden of Gaurímunda's city he spent those days with his wives in the joys of a banquet. And then he sent Prabhávatí, and had Bhagírathayasas also brought there, and bestowed on her the sciences. And one day, as the emperor was sitting in his hall of audience, two Vidyádharas came and said to him with due respect, "Your majesty, we went hence, by the orders of Dhanavatí, to the northern division of the land of the Vidyádharas, to find out the movements of Mandaradeva. And there we, being ourselves invisible, saw that king of the Vidyádharas in his hall of audience, and he happened to be saying with regard to your Highness, 'I hear, that Naraváhanadatta has obtained the sovereignty over the Vidyádharas, and has slain Gaurímunda and the rest of his opponents; so it will not do for me to overlook that enemy; on the contrary, I must nip him in the bud.' When we heard that speech of his, we came here to tell you." When the assembly of Naraváhanadatta's partizans heard this from the spies, they were all beside themselves with anger, and appeared like a lotus-bed smitten by the wind. The arms of Chitrángada, frequently waved and extended, seemed with the tinkling of their bracelets to be demanding the signal for combat. The necklace of Amitagati, rising up on his breast, as he sighed with anger, seemed to say again and again, "Rouse thyself, rouse thyself, hero." Pingalagándhára, striking the ground with his hand so that it resounded, seemed to be going through a prelude introductory to the crushing of his enemies. A frown took its seat upon the face of Váyupatha, looking like a bow strung by Fate for the destruction of his foes. Chandasinha, angrily pressing one hand against the other, seemed to say, "Even thus will I pulverize my enemies." The arm of Ságaradatta, struck by his hand, produced a sound that rang through the air, and seemed to challenge that foe. But Naraváhanadatta, though angry, was no whit disturbed; for imperturbability is the characteristic sign of the greatness of great ones. Then he resolved to march forth to conquer his enemy, after obtaining the jewels essential to an emperor of the Vidyádharas. So the emperor mounted a chariot, with his wives and his ministers, and set out from that Govindakúta. And all his partizans, the kings of the Gandharvas and the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, accompanied by their armies, marched along with him, encircling him, as the planets do the moon. Then Naraváhanadatta reached the Himálayas, preceded by Dhanavatí, and found there a large lake. With its white lotuses like lofty umbrellas and its soaring swans like waving chowries, it seemed to have brought a present fit for a sovereign. With its lofty waves flung up towards him like beckoning hands at no great distance, it seemed to summon him again and again to take the bath which should ensure him supreme sovereignty. Then Váyupatha said to the king, "My emperor, you must go down and bathe in this lake;" so he went down to bathe in it. And a heavenly voice said, "None but an emperor can ever succeed in bathing in this lake, so now you may consider the imperial dignity secured to you." When the emperor heard that, he was delighted, and he sported in the water of that lake with his wives, as Varuna does in the sea. He took pleasure in watching them with the moist garments clinging to their bodies, with the fastenings of their hair loosened, and their eyes reddened by the washing into them of antimony. The rows of birds, flying up with loud cries from that lake, appeared like the girdles of its presiding nymphs advancing to meet him. And the lotuses, eclipsed by the beauty of the lotus-like faces of his wives, plunged beneath the waves as if ashamed. And after bathing, Naraváhanadatta, with his attendants, spent that day on the bank of that lake. There the successful prince, with his wives and ministers, spent his time in jocose conversation, and next morning he set forth thence in his chariot with his army. And as he was going along, he reached the city of Váyupatha, which lay in his way; and he stayed there a day to please him. There he fell in love with a maiden, that he came across in a garden, the sister of Váyupatha, by name Váyuvegayasas. She, while amusing herself in a garden on the bank of the Hemabáluka [565] river, saw him arrive, and though in love with him, disappeared at once. Then Naraváhanadatta, supposing that she had turned her back on him for some reason other than the real one, returned with downcast face to his quarters. There the queens found out the adventure that had befallen the king by means of Marubhúti who was with him, (for Gomukha was too clever for them to try him,) and then they made all kinds of jokes at the king's expense, while Gomukha stood by ashamed at the indiscretion of Marubhúti. Then Gomukha, seeing the king out of countenance, consoled him, and, in order to ascertain the real sentiments of Váyuvegayasas, went to her city. There Váyupatha saw him suddenly arrived as if to take a look at the city, and he lovingly entertained him, and taking him aside, said to him, "I have an unmarried sister named Váyuvegayasas, and holy seers have prophesied that she is destined to be the wife of an emperor. So I am desirous of giving her as a present to the emperor Naraváhanadatta; pray do your best to bring about the accomplishment of my wish. And with this very object in view I was preparing to come to you." When the minister Gomukha had been thus addressed by Váyupatha, he said to him; "Although this prince of ours set out primarily with the object of conquering his enemies, still you have only to make the request, and I will arrange this matter for you." With these words Gomukha took leave of him, and going back informed Naraváhanadatta that he had gained his object without any solicitation. And the next day Váyupatha came in person and requested the favour, and the sagacious Gomukha said to the king, "My prince, you must not refuse the request of Váyupatha; he is your faithful ally; your majesty should do whatever he asks." Then the king consented to do it; and Váyupatha himself brought his younger sister, and bestowed her on the emperor against her will. And while the marriage was being performed, she exclaimed, "Ye guardians of the world, I am being bestowed in marriage by my brother by force, and against my will, so I have not committed any sin thereby." When she said this, all the females belonging to Váyupatha's household made such a noise that no outsiders heard what she said. But the king was put out of countenance by her speech, so Gomukha was anxious to find some means of ascertaining its import, and he roamed hither and thither with that object. And after he had roamed about awhile, he saw in a certain retired spot four Vidyádhara maidens preparing to enter the fire at the same time. And when he asked them the cause, those fair ones told him how Váyuvegayasas had broken her solemn agreement. Then Gomukha went and told it to king Naraváhanadatta in the presence of all there, exactly as he had seen and heard. When the king heard it, he smiled, but Váyuvegayasas said, "Arise, my husband, let us two quickly go and save these maidens; afterwards I will tell you the reason of this act of theirs." When she said this to the king, he went with her and with all his followers to the spot where the tragedy was to take place. And he saw those maidens with a blazing fire in front of them; and Váyuvegayasas, after dragging them away from it, said to the king, "This first here is Káliká, the daughter of the lord of Kálakúta, and this second is Vidyutpunjá, the daughter of Vidyutpunja; and this third is Matanginí, the daughter of Mandara; and this fourth is Padmaprabhá the daughter of Mahádanshtra; and I am the fifth; all we five, when we saw you performing asceticism in the domain of the Siddhas, were bewildered with love, and we made the following mutual agreement, 'We will all five [566] at the same time take this prince as our dear husband, and no one of us must surrender herself to him alone; if any one of us marries him separately, the others shall enter the fire to bring down vengeance on her who has been guilty of such treachery to friends.' It was out of respect for this agreement that I did not wish to marry you separately; indeed I did not even to-day give myself to you; you, my husband, and the guardians of the world can bear testimony as to whether even now I have broken this agreement willingly. So now, my husband, marry also those friends of mine; and you, my friends, must not let any other lot befall you." [567] When she said this, those maidens, who had escaped from death, rejoiced and embraced one another; and the king was delighted in his heart. And the fathers of the ladies, hearing what had taken place, came there immediately, and bestowed their daughters on Naraváhanadatta. And those chiefs of the Vidyádharas, headed by the lord of Kálakúta, [568] agreed to accept the sovereignty of their son-in-law. Thus Naraváhanadatta obtained at one stroke the daughters of five great Vidyádharas, and gained great importance thereby. And the prince remained there some days with those wives, and then his Commander-in-Chief Harisikha said, "Why, my liege, though you are versed in the approved treatises on the subject, do you act contrary to policy? What means this devotion on your part to the pleasures of love, when it is time to fight? This raising of an expedition to conquer Mandaradeva, and this your dallying for so many days with your wives, are things wholly incompatible." When Harisikha said this, the great king answered him, "Your reproof is just, but I am not acting for my own pleasure in all this; this allying of myself with wives involves the acquisition of friends; and is so the most efficacious method at present of crushing the foe; this is why I have had recourse to it. So let these my troops now advance to the conquest of the enemy!" When the king had given this order, his father-in-law Mandara said to him, "King, that Mandaradeva lives in a distant and difficult country, and he will be hard for you to overcome until you have achieved all the distinctive jewels of an emperor. For he is protected by the cave, called the cave of Trisírsha, [569] which forms the approach to his kingdom, and the entrance of which is guarded by the great champion Devamáya. But that cave can be forced by an emperor who has obtained the jewels. And the sandal-wood tree, which is one of the jewels of an emperor, is in this country, so quickly gain possession of it, in order that you may attain the ends you have in view. For no one who is not an emperor ever gets near that tree." Having heard this from Mandara, Naraváhanadatta set out at night, fasting and observing a strict vow, for that sandal-wood tree. As the hero went along, very terrible portents arose to bewilder him, but he was not terrified at them, and so he reached the foot of that mighty tree. And when he saw that sandal-wood tree surrounded with a lofty platform made of precious jewels, he climbed up to it with ladders and adored it. The tree then said to him with bodiless voice, "Emperor, thou hast won me the sandal-wood tree, and when thou thinkest on me, I will appear to thee, so leave this place at present, and go to Govindakúta; thus thou wilt win the other jewels also; and then thou wilt easily conquer Mandaradeva." On hearing this, Naraváhanadatta, the mighty sovereign of the Vidyádharas, said, "I will do so," and being now completely successful, he worshipped that heavenly tree, [570] and went delighted through the air to his own camp. There he spent that night; and the next morning in the hall of audience he related at full length, in the presence of all, his night's adventure by which he had won the sandal-wood tree. And when they heard it, his wives, and the ministers who had grown up with him from infancy, and those Vidyádharas who were devoted to him, namely, Váyupatha and the other chiefs with their forces, and the Gandharvas, headed by Chitrángada, were delighted at this sudden attainment of great success, and praised his heroism remarkable for its uninterrupted flow of courage, enterprise, and firmness. And after deliberating with them, the king, determined to overthrow the pride of Mandaradeva, set out in a heavenly chariot for the mountain of Govindakúta, in order to obtain the other jewels spoken of by the sandal-wood tree. BOOK XV. CHAPTER CIX. May Ganesa, who at night seems with the spray blown forth from his hissing trunk uplifted in the tumultuous dance, to be feeding the stars, dispel your darkness! Then, as the emperor Naraváhanadatta was in his hall of audience on the mountain Govindakúta, a Vidyádhara named Amritaprabha came to him through the air, the same who had before saved him, when he was flung down by his enemy on the Mountain of Fire. That Vidyádhara came and humbly made himself known, and having been lovingly entertained by that emperor, said to him, "There is a great mountain named Malaya in the southern region; and in a hermitage on it lives a great hermit named Vámadeva. He, my liege, invites you to come to him alone for the sake of some important affair, and on this account he has sent me to you to-day. Moreover you are my sovereign, won by previous merits; and therefore have I come; so come along with me; let us quickly go to that hermit in order to ensure your success!" When that Vidyádhara had said this, Naraváhanadatta left his wives and forces there, and himself flew up into the air with that Vidyádhara, and in that way quickly reached the Malaya mountain, and approached the hermit Vámadeva. And he beheld that hermit white with age, tall of stature, with eye-balls sparkling like bright jewels in the fleshless sockets of his eyes, the depository of the jewels of the emperor of the Vidyádharas, with his matted hair waving like creepers, looking like the Himálaya range accompanying the prince, to assist him in attaining success. Then the prince worshipped the feet of that sage, and he entertained him, and said to him, "You are the god of Love consumed long ago by Siva, and appointed by him emperor of all the Vidyádhara chiefs, because he was pleased with Rati. [571] Now, I have in this my hermitage, within the deep recess of an inner cave, certain jewels, which I will point out to you, and you must seize them. For you will find Mandaradeva easy enough to conquer, after you have obtained the jewels; and it was with this object that I invited you hither by the command of Siva." When the hermit had said this to him, and had instructed him in the right method of procedure, Naraváhanadatta joyfully entered that cave. In it the hero overcame many and various obstacles, and then he beheld a huge furious elephant charging him with a deep guttural roar. The king smote it on the forehead with his fist, and placed his feet on its tusks, and actively mounted that furious elephant. And a bodiless voice came from the cave, "Bravo, emperor! thou hast won the jewel of the mighty elephant." Then he saw a sword looking like a mighty snake, and he fell upon it, and seized it, as if it were the locks of the Fortune of Empire. Again a bodiless voice sounded in the cave, "Bravo, conqueror of thy foes! thou hast obtained the victorious sword-jewel." Then he obtained the moonlight-jewel and the wife-jewel, and the jewel of charms, named the destroying charm. And thus having achieved in all seven jewels (useful in time of need, and bestowers of majesty), taking into account the two first, the lake and the sandal-wood tree, he went out from that cave and told the hermit Vámadeva that he had succeeded in accomplishing all his objects. [572] Then the hermit said lovingly to that emperor, "Go, my son, now that you have obtained the jewels of a great emperor, and conquer Mandaradeva on the north side of Kailása, and enjoy the glorious fortune of the sovereignty of both sides of that mountain." When the hermit had said this to him, the successful emperor bowed before him, and went off through the air with Amritaprabha. And in a moment he reached his camp on Govindakúta guarded by his mighty mother-in-law Dhanavatí. Then those kings of the Vidyádharas, that had sided with him, and his wives and his ministers, who were all watching for him, saw him, and welcomed him with delight. Then he sat down and they questioned him, and he told them how he had seen the hermit Vámadeva, and how he had entered the cave, and how he had obtained the jewels. Then a great festival took place there, in which celestial drums were joyfully beaten, and the Vidyádharas danced, and people generally were drunk with wine. And the next day, in a moment in which a malignant planet stood in the house of his foe, and one which argued his own success [573] as a planet benignant to him, predominated over his enemy's house, and which was fraught with every other kind of prosperity, Naraváhanadatta performed the ceremonies for good fortune, and ascended that car made by Brahmá, which Siva had bestowed on him, and set out with his army through the air, accompanied by his wives, to conquer Mandaradeva. And various heroes, his followers, marched surrounding him, and kings of the Gandharvas and chiefs of the Vidyádharas, fearless and faithful, obedient to the orders of the general Harisikha, and Chandasinha, with his mother the wise Dhanavatí, and the brave Pingalagándhára, and Váyupatha the strong, and Vidyutpunja and Amitagati, and the lord of Kálakúta, and Mandara, and Mahádanshtra and his own friend Amritaprabha, and the hero Chitrángada with Ságaradatta,--all these, and others who were there of the party of the slain Gaurímunda, pressed eagerly after him, with their hosts, as he advanced intent on victory. Then the sky was obscured by his army, and the sun hid his face, as if for shame, somewhere or other, his brightness being eclipsed by the splendour of the monarch. Then the emperor passed the Mánasa lake haunted by troops of divine hermits, and left behind him Gandasáila the pleasure-garden of the nymphs of heaven, and reached the foot of mount Kailása gleaming white like crystal, resembling a mass of his own glory. [574] There he encamped on the bank of the Mandákiní, and while he was sitting there, the wise chief of the Vidyádharas, named Mandara, came up to him, and addressed to him the following pleasing speech, "Let your army halt here, king, on the bank of the river of the gods! It is not fitting that you should advance over this mountain Kailása. For all sciences are destroyed by crossing this dwelling-place of Siva. So you must pass to the other side of the mountain by the cave of Trisírsha. And it is guarded by a king named Devamáya, who is exceedingly haughty; so how can you advance further without conquering him?" When Mandara said this, Dhanavatí approved it, and Naraváhanadatta waited there for a day. While he was there, he sent an ambassador to Devamáya with a conciliatory message, but he did not receive the order it conveyed in a conciliatory spirit. So the next day the emperor moved out against Devamáya with all the allied kings prepared for battle. And Devamáya too, when he heard it, marched out towards him to give battle, accompanied by numerous kings, Varáha, Vajramushti and others, and followed by his army. Then there took place on Kailása a battle between those two armies, and while it was going on, the sky was obscured by the chariots of the gods who came to look on. Terrible was that thunder-cloud of war, awful with the dense hailstorm of many severed heads, and loud with the shouting of heroes. That Chandasinha slew Varáha the general of Devamáya, as he fought in the front rank, was in truth by no means wonderful; but it was strange that Naraváhanadatta, without employing any magic power, took captive Devamáya himself, when exhausted by the wounds he received from him in the combat. And when he was captured, his army was broken, and fled, together with the great champions Vajramushti, Mahábáhu, Tikshnadanshtra and their fellows. Then the gods in their chariots exclaimed, "Bravo! Bravo!" and all present congratulated the victorious emperor. Then that mighty monarch consoled Devamáya, who was brought before him bound, and welcomed him kindly, and set him at liberty. But he, having been subdued by the emperor's arm, humbly submitted to him, together with Vajramushti and the others. Then, the battle having come to an end, that day passed away, and next morning Devamáya came to the place of audience, and stood by the side of the emperor, and when questioned by him about the cave of Trisírsha, which he wished to enter, related the following true history of it. History of the cave of Trisírsha. In old time, my liege, the two sides of mount Kailása, the north and the south side, formed different kingdoms, having been assigned to distinguished Vidyádharas. Then one, Rishabha by name, propitiated Siva with austerities, and was appointed by that god emperor over both of them. But one day he was passing over Kailása to go to the northern side, and lost his magic science owing to the anger of Siva, who happened to be below, and so fell from the sky. Rishabha again propitiated Siva with severe asceticism, and the god again appointed him Supreme Sovereign of both sides; so he thus humbly addressed the god, "I am not permitted to pass over Kailása, so by what path am I to travel in order to be able to exercise my prerogatives on both sides of the mountain?" When Siva, the trident-bearing god, heard this, he cleft asunder Kailása, and made this cave-like opening for Rishabha to pass to the northern side. Then mount Kailása, having been pierced, was despondent, and addressed this petition to Siva, "Holy one, this north side of me used to be inaccessible to mortals, but it has now been made accessible to them by this cave-passage; so provide that this law of exclusion be not broken." When Siva had been thus supplicated by the mountain, he placed in the cave as guards, elephants of the quarters, mighty basilisks, [575] and Guhyakas; and at its southern opening he placed Mahámáya the Vidyádhara chief, and at its northern opening Kálarátri the invincible Chandiká. [576] When Siva had thus provided for the guarding of the cave, he produced great jewels, and made this decree with regard to the cave, "This cave shall be open at both ends to any one who has obtained the jewels, and is emperor over the Vidyádharas with their wives and their messengers, [577] and to those who may be appointed by him as sovereigns over the northern side of the mountain,--by these, I say, it may be passed, but by no one else in the world." When the three-eyed god had made this decree, Risbabha went on holding sway over the Vidyádharas, but in his pride made war on the gods and was slain by Indra. This is the history, my liege, of the cave, named the cave of Trisírsha; and the cave cannot be passed by any but persons like yourself. And in course of time I Devamáya was born in the family of Mahámáya the keeper of the entrance of the cave. And at my birth a heavenly voice proclaimed, "There is now born among the Vidyádharas a champion hard for his foes to conquer in fight; and he, who shall conquer him, shall be emperor over them; he shall be the master of this child now born, and shall be followed by him as a lord." I, that Devamáya, have been now conquered by you, and you have obtained the jewels, and are the mighty sole emperor of both sides of mount Kailása,--the lord of us all here. So, now pass the cave of Trisírsha, and conquer the rest of your enemies. When Devamáya had told the story of the cave in these words, the emperor said to him, "We will march now and encamp for the present at the mouth of the cave, and to-morrow morning, after we have performed due ceremonies, we will enter it." When Naraváhanadatta had said this, he went and encamped with all those kings at the mouth of the cave. And he saw that underground passage with deep rayless cavity, looking like the birthplace of the sunless and moonless darkness of the day of doom. And the next day he offered worship, and entered it in his chariot, with his followers, assisted by the glorious jewels, which presented themselves to him, when he thought of them. He dispelled the darkness with the moonlight jewel, the basilisks with the sandal-wood tree, the elephants of the quarters with the elephant-jewel, the Guhyakas with the sword-jewel, and other obstacles with other jewels; and so passed that cave with his army, and emerged at its northern mouth. And coming out from the bowels of the cave, he saw before him the northern side of the mountain, looking like another world, entered without a second birth. And then a voice came from the sky, "Bravo, emperor! thou hast passed this cave by means of the majesty conferred by the power of the jewels." Then Dhanavatí and Devamáya said to the emperor, "Your Majesty, Kálarátri is always near this opening. She was originally created by Vishnu, when the sea was churned for the nectar, in order that she might tear in pieces the chiefs of the Dánavas, who wished to steal that heavenly drink. And now she has been placed here by Siva to guard this cave, in order that none may pass it, except those beings like yourself, of whom we spoke before. You are our emperor, and you have obtained the jewels, and have passed this cave; so, in order to gain the victory, you must worship this goddess, who is a meet object of worship." In such words did Dhanavatí and Devamáya address Naraváhanadatta, and so the day waned for him there. And the northern peaks of Kailása were reddened with the evening light, and seemed thus to foreshadow the bloodshed of the approaching battle. The darkness, having gained power, obscured the army of that king, as if recollecting its animosity against him for his recent victory over it in its home the cave; an animosity which was still fresh and new. And goblins, vampires, jackals, and the sisterhood [578] of witches roamed about, as it were the first shoots of the anger of Kálarátri enraged on account of Naraváhanadatta having omitted to worship her. And in a moment the whole army of Naraváhanadatta became insensible, as if with sleep, but he alone remained in full possession of his faculties. Then the emperor perceived that this was a display of power on the part of Kálarátri, angry because she had not been worshipped, and be proceeded to worship her with flowers of speech. "Thou art the power of life, animating all creatures, of loving nature, skilful in directing the discus to the head of thy foes; thee I adore. Hail! thou, that under the form of Durgá dost console the world with thy trident and other weapons streaming with the drops of blood flowing from the throat of the slain Mahisha. Thou art victorious dancing with a skull full of the blood of Ruru in thy agitated hand, as if thou wast holding the vessel of security of the three worlds. Goddess beloved of Siva, with uplifted eyes, though thy name means the night of doom, still, with skull surmounted by a burning candle, and with a skull in thy hand, thou dost shine as if with the sun and moon." Though he praised Kálarátri in these words, she was not propitiated, and then he made up his mind to appease her by the sacrifice of his head; and he drew his sword for that purpose. Then the goddess said to him, "Do not act rashly my son. Lo! I have been won over by thee, thou hero. Let this thy army be as it was before, and be thou victorious!" And immediately his army awoke as it were from sleep. Then his wives, and his companions, and all the Vidyádharas praised the might of that emperor. And the hero, having eaten and drunk and performed the necessary duties, spent that night, which seemed as long as if it consisted of a hundred watches instead of three. And the next morning he worshipped Kálarátri, and marched thence to engage Dhúmasikha, who had barred his further advance with an army of Vidyádharas. Then the emperor had a fight with that king, who was the principal champion of Mandaradeva, of such a desperate character, that the air was full of swords, the earth covered with the heads of warriors, and the only speech heard was the terrible cry of heroes shouting, "Slay! slay!" Then the emperor took Dhúmasikha captive in that battle by force, and afterwards treated him with deference; and made him submit to his sway. And he quartered his army that night in his city, and the host seemed like fuel consumed with fire, as it had seen the extinction of Dhúmasikha's [579] pride. And the next day, hearing from the scouts that Mandaradeva, having found out what had taken place, was advancing to meet him in fight, Naraváhanadatta marched out against him with the chiefs of the Vidyádharas, determined to conquer him. And after he had gone some distance, he beheld in front of him the army of Mandaradeva, accompanied by many kings, attacking in order of battle. Then Naraváhanadatta, with the allied kings at his side, drew up his forces in an arrangement fitted to encounter the formation of his enemies, and fell upon his army. Then a battle took place between those two armies, which imitated the disturbed flood of the ocean overflowing its banks at the day of doom. On one side were fighting Chandasinha and other great champions, and on the other Kánchanadanshtra and other mighty kings. And the battle waxed sore, resembling the rising of the wind at the day of doom, for it made the three worlds tremble, and shook the mountains. Mount Kailása, red on one side with the blood of heroes, as with saffron paint, and on the other of ashy whiteness, resembled the husband of Gaurí. That great battle was truly the day of doom for heroes, being grimly illuminated by innumerable orbs of the sun arisen in flashing sword-blades. Such was the battle that even Nárada and other heavenly beings, who came to gaze at it, were astonished, though they had witnessed the fights between the gods and the Asuras. In this fight, which was thus terrible, Kánchanadanshtra rushed on Chandasinha, and smote him on the head with a formidable mace. When Dhanavatí saw that her son had fallen under the stroke of the mace, she cursed and paralysed both armies by means of her magic power. And Naraváhanadatta on one side, in virtue of his imperial might, [580] and on the other side, Mandaradeva were the only two that remained conscious. Then even the gods in the air fled in all directions, seeing that Dhanavatí, if angry, had power to destroy a world. But Mandaradeva, seeing that the emperor Naraváhanadatta was left alone, ran upon him with uplifted weapon. Naraváhanadatta, for his part, descended from his chariot, and drawing the sword which was one of his imperial jewels, quickly met him. Then Mandaradeva, wishing to gain the victory by magic arts, assumed by his science the form of a furious elephant maddened with passion. When Naraváhanadatta, who was endowed with pre-eminent skill in magic, saw this, he assumed by his supernatural power the form of a lion. Then Mandaradeva flung off the body of an elephant, and Naraváhanadatta abandoned that of a lion, and fought with him openly in his own shape. [581] Armed with sabres, and skilled in every elaborate trick and attitude of fence, they appeared like two actors skilled in gesticulation, engaged in acting a pantomime. Then Naraváhanadatta by a dexterous sleight forced from the grasp of Mandaradeva his sword the material symbol of victory. And Mandaradeva, having been thus deprived of his sword, drew his dagger, but the emperor quickly made him relinquish that in the same way. Then Mandaradeva, being disarmed, began to wrestle with the emperor, but he seized him by the ancles, and laid him on the earth. And then the sovereign set his foot on his enemy's breast, and laying hold of his hair, was preparing to cut off his head with his sword, when the maiden Mandaradeví, the sister of Mandaradeva, rushed up to him, and in order to prevent him, said, "When I saw you long ago in the wood of ascetics, I marked you for my future husband, so do not, my sovereign, kill this brother of mine, who is your brother-in-law." When the resolute king had been thus addressed by that fair-eyed one, he let go Mandaradeva, who was ashamed at having been conquered, and said to him, "I set you at liberty; do not be ashamed on that account, Vidyádhara chief; victory and defeat in war bestow themselves on heroes with varying caprice." When the king said this, Mandaradeva answered him, "Of what profit is my life to me, now that I have been saved in war by a woman? So I will go to my father in the wood where he is, and perform asceticism; you have been appointed emperor over both divisions of our territory here. Indeed this occurrence was foretold long ago to me by my father as sure to take place." When the proud hero had said this, he repaired to his father in the grove of ascetics. Then the gods, that were present in the air on that occasion, exclaimed, "Bravo! great emperor, you have completely conquered your enemies, and obtained sovereign sway." When Mandaradeva had gone, Dhanavatí by her power restored her own son and both armies with him to consciousness. So Naraváhanadatta's followers, ministers and all, arose as it were from sleep, and finding out that the foe had been conquered, congratulated Naraváhanadatta their victorious master. And the kings of Mandaradeva's party, Kánchanadanshtra, Asokaka, Raktáksha, Kálajihva and the others, submitted to the sway of Naraváhanadatta. And Chandasinha, when he saw Kánchanadanshtra, remembered the blow of the mace, which he received from him in fight, and was wroth with him, brandishing his good sword firmly grasped in his strong hand. But Dhanavatí said to him, "Enough of wrath, my beloved son! Who could conquer you in the van of battle? But I myself produced that momentary glamour, in order to prevent the destruction of both armies." With these words she pacified her son and made him cease from wrath, and she delighted the whole army and the emperor Naraváhanadatta [582] by her magic skill. And Naraváhanadatta was exceedingly joyful, having obtained the sovereignty of the north side of Kailása, the mountain of Siva, a territory now free from the scourge of war, since the heroes, who opposed him, had been conquered, or had submitted, or fled, and that too with all his friends unharmed. Then shrill kettle-drums were beaten for the great festival of his victory over his enemies, [583] and the triumphant monarch, accompanied by his wives and ministers, and girt with mighty kings, spent that day, which was honoured by the splendid dances and songs of the Vidyádhara ladies, in drinking wine, as it were the fiery valour of his enemies. CHAPTER CX. Then, the next day, the emperor Naraváhanadatta, with his army, left that plateau of Kailása, and by the advice of king Kánchanadanshtra, who shewed him the way, went to that city of Mandaradeva named Vimala. And he reached that city, which was adorned with lofty ramparts of gold, and looked like mount Sumeru come to adore Kailása, and entering it, found that it resembled the sea in all but the presence of water, being very deep, characterized by unfailing prosperity, [584] and an inexhaustible mine of jewels. And as the emperor was sitting in the hall of audience in that city surrounded by Vidyádhara kings, an old woman of the royal harem came and said to him, "Since Mandaradeva has gone to the forest, having been conquered by you, his wives desire to enter the fire; your Highness has now been informed and will decide upon the proper course." When this had been announced, the emperor sent those kings to them, and dissuaded them from suicide, and bestowed upon them dwelling-houses and other gifts, treating them like sisters. By that step he caused the whole race of the Vidyádhara chiefs to be bound to him with bonds of affection. And then the grateful monarch anointed Amitagati, who had been designated beforehand by Siva, king over the realm of Mandaradeva, since he was loyal and could be trusted not to fall away, and he placed under him the princes who had followed Mandaradeva, namely, Kánchanadanshtra and his fellows. And he diverted himself there in splendid gardens for seven days, being caressed by the fortune of the northern side of Kailása, as by a newly-married bride. And then, though he had acquired the imperial authority over the Vidyádhara kings of both divisions, he began to long for more. He set out, though his ministers tried to dissuade him, to conquer the inaccessible fields of Meru situated in the northern region, the home of the gods. For high-spirited men, though abundantly loaded with possessions, cannot rest without acquiring something still more glorious, advancing like blazing forest-fires. Then the hermit Nárada came and said to the king, "Prince, what means this striving after things out of your reach, though you know policy? For one who out of overweening self-confidence attempts the impossible, is disgraced like Rávana, who, in his pride, endeavoured to uproot Kailása. For even the sun and moon find Meru hard to overstep; moreover, Siva has not bestowed on you the sway over the gods, but the sway over the Vidyádharas. You have already conquered the Himálayas, the home of the Vidyádharas, so what need have you of Meru the home of the gods? Dismiss from your mind this chimerical scheme. Moreover, if you desire good fortune, you must go and visit the father of Mandaradeva, Akampana by name, in the forest, where he is residing." When the hermit Nárada had said this, the emperor consented to do as he directed, and so he took leave of him, and returned whence he came. And the politic emperor, having been advised by Nárada to relinquish his enterprise, [585] and remembering the destruction of Rishabha, of which he had heard from Devamáya, and having reflected over the matter in his own mind, gave up the idea, and went to visit the kingly sage Akampana in the grove of ascetics. And when he reached that ascetic grove, it was crowded with great sages, engaged in contemplation, sitting in the posture called padmásana, and so resembled the world of Brahmá. There he saw that aged Akampana, wearing matted hair and a deerskin, looking like a great tree resorted to by hermits. So he went and worshipped the feet of that ascetic, and that royal sage welcomed him and said to him, "You have done well, king, in coming to this hermitage, for if you had passed on neglectful of it, these hermits here would have cursed you." While the royal sage was saying this to the emperor, Mandaradeva, who was staying in that grove of ascetics, having taken the vows of a hermit, came to his father, accompanied by his sister, the princess Mandaradeví. And Naraváhanadatta, when he saw him, embraced him, for it is fitting that truly brave men should show kindness to foes when conquered and pacified. Then the royal sage Akampana, seeing Mandaradeví come with her brother, said to that emperor, "Here, king, is my daughter, Mandaradeví by name; and a heavenly voice said that she should be the consort of an emperor; so marry her, emperor, for I give her to you." When the royal sage said this, his daughter said, "I have four companions here, of like age, noble maidens; one is a maiden called Kanakavatí, the daughter of Kánchanadanshtra; the second is the daughter of Kálajihva, Kálavatí by name; the third is the offspring of Dírghadanshtra named Srutá; the fourth is the daughter of the king of Paundra, named Ambaraprabhá; and I am the fifth of those Vidyádhara maidens. We five, when roaming about, saw previously in a grove of ascetics this my destined husband, and setting our hearts on him, we made an agreement together that we would all, at one and the same time, take him for our husband, but that, if any single one married him alone, the others should enter the fire, and lay the guilt at her door. So it is not fitting that I should marry without those friends of mine; for how could persons like myself commit the outrageous crime of breaking plighted faith?" When that self-possessed lady had said this, her father Akampana summoned those four Vidyádhara chiefs, who were the fathers of the four maidens, and told them exactly what had occurred, and they immediately thought themselves very fortunate, and brought those maidens their daughters. Then Naraváhanadatta married the five in order, beginning with Mandaradeví. And he remained there with them many days, worshipping the hermits three times a day, at dawn, noon, and sunset, while his attendants held high festival. And Akampana said to him, "King, you must now go to the Rishabha mountain for the great ceremony of your coronation," and thereupon Devamáya also said to him, "King, you must indeed do so, for the emperors of old time, Rishabhaka and others, were anointed [586] on that mountain." When Harisikha heard that, he spoke in favour of Naraváhanadatta's being anointed emperor on the splendid mountain of Mandara, which was near; but then a voice came from heaven, "King, all former emperors went through the ceremony of their coronation on the Rishabha mountain; do you also go there, for it is a holy place." [587] When the heavenly voice said this, Naraváhanadatta bowed before the hermits and Akampana, and set out thence for that mountain on an auspicious day. And he reached that northern opening of the cave of Trisírsha, with many great chiefs of the Vidyádharas headed by Amitagati. There the emperor worshipped that Kálarátri, and entered the cave by that opening, and came out by the southern opening. And after he had come out with his forces, he rested, at Devamáya's request, in his palace for that day, together with his attendants. And while he was there, he reflected that Siva was near him on that mountain of Kailása, and he went of his own accord, with Gomukha, to visit the god. And when he reached his hermitage, he saw and adored the cow Surabhi and the sacred bull, and approached Nandin the door-keeper. And Nandin was pleased when the king circumambulated him, and opened the door to him, and then he entered and beheld Siva accompanied by Deví. The god diffused gladness afar by the streams of rays from the moon on his crest, that seemed to dart hither and thither as if conquered by the splendour of Gaurí's face. He was playing with his beloved with dice, that, like eyes, were allowed at will to pursue their objects independently,--that, though under his command, were ever restlessly rolling. And when Naraváhanadatta saw that giver of boons, and that goddess the daughter of the Mountain, he fell at their feet, and circumambulated them three times. The god said to him, "It is well, my son, that thou hast come hither; for otherwise thou mightest have suffered loss. But now all thy magic powers shall ever be unfailing. So go thou to the Rishabha mountain, that holy place, and obtain there at once in fitting time thy great inauguration." When the emperor had received this command from the god, he hastened to obey it, exclaiming "I will do thy will," and bowed before him and his wife, and returned to that palace of Devamáya. The queen Madanamanchuká playfully said to him on his return, "Where have you been, my husband? You appear to be pleased. Have you managed to pick up here another set of five maidens?" When she made use of these playful taunts, the prince gladdened her by telling her the real state of affairs, and remained with her in happiness. And the next day, Naraváhanadatta, accompanied by a host of Gandharvas and Vidyádharas, making, as it were, a second sun in the heavens by his glorious presence, ascended his splendid car, with his wives and his ministers, and made for the Rishabha mountain. And when he reached that heavenly hill, the trees, like hermits, with their creepers like matted hair waving in the wind, shed their flowers before him by way of a respectful offering. And there various kings of the Vidyádharas brought the preparations for the coronation on a scale suited to the might of their master. And the Vidyádharas came to his coronation from all quarters, with presents in their hands, all loyal, terrified, vanquished or respectful. Then the Vidyádharas said to him, "Tell us, king; who is to occupy half your throne, and to be anointed as queen consort?" The king answered, "The queen Madanamanchuká is to be anointed together with me;" and this at once set the Vidyádharas thinking. Then a bodiless voice came from the air, "Hearken, Vidyádharas! This Madanamanchuká is not a mortal; for she is Rati become incarnate, in order to be the wife of this your master, who is the god of Love. She was not born to Madanavega by Kalingasená, but, being of superhuman origin, was immediately substituted by the gods, who employed their deluding power, for the infant to which Kalingasená gave birth. [588] But the infant to which she gave birth, was named Ityaka, and remained at the side of Madanavega, having been assigned to him by the Creator. So this Madanamanchuká is worthy to share the throne of her husband, for Siva long ago granted her this honour as a boon, having been pleased with her asceticism." When the voice had said so much, it ceased, and the Vidyádharas were pleased, and praised the queen Madanamanchuká. Then, on an auspicious day, the great hermits sprinkled with water from many sacred bathing-places, brought in pitchers of gold, Naraváhanadatta seated on the imperial throne, while Madanamanchuká occupied the left half of it. And during the ceremony Sántisoma the domestic chaplain was busily occupied, and the assembled cymbals of the heavenly nymphs resounded aloud, and the murmur made by Bráhmans reciting prayers filled the ten points of the sky. Strange to say! when the water, made more purifying by holy texts, fell on his head, the secret defilement [589] of enmity was washed out from the minds of his foes. The goddess of fortune seemed to accompany in visible presence that water of consecration, under the impression that it came from the sea, and so was a connexion of her own, and to join with it in covering the body of that king. A series of flower-garlands flung by the hands of the nymphs of heaven, falling on him, appeared like the Ganges spontaneously descending on his body with a full stream. Adorned with red unguent and valour, he appeared like the sun in the glory of rising, washed in the water of the sea. [590] And crowned with a garland of mandára flowers, resplendent with glorious raiment and ornaments, having donned a heavenly diadem, he wore the majesty of Indra. And queen Madanamanchuká, having been also anointed, glittered with heavenly ornaments at his side, like Sachí at the side of Indra. And that day, though drums sounded like clouds, and flowers fell from the sky like rain, and though it was full [591] of heavenly nymphs like lightning gleams, was, strange to say, a fair one. On that occasion, in the city of the chief of mountains, not only did beautiful Vidyádhara ladies dance, but creepers shaken by the wind danced also; and when cymbals were struck by minstrels at that great festival, the mountain seemed to send forth responsive strains from its echoing caves; and covered all over with Vidyádharas moving about intoxicated with the liquor of heavenly cordials, it seemed to be itself reeling with wine; and Indra, in his chariot, having beheld the splendour of the coronation which has now been described, felt his pride in his own altogether dashed. Naraváhanadatta, having thus obtained his long-desired inauguration as emperor, thought with yearning of his father. And having at once taken counsel with Gomukha and his other ministers, the monarch summoned Váyupatha and said to him, "Go and say to my father, 'Naraváhanadatta thinks of you with exceeding longing,' and tell him all that has happened, and bring him here, and bring his queens and his ministers too, addressing the same invitation to them." When Váyupatha heard this, he said "I will do so," and made for Kausámbí through the air. And he reached that city in a moment, beheld with fear and astonishment by the citizens, as he was encircled by seventy million Vidyádharas. And he had an interview with Udayana king of Vatsa, with his ministers and wives, and the king received him with appropriate courtesy. And the Vidyádhara prince sat down and asked the king about his health, and said to him, while all present looked at him with curiosity, "Your son Naraváhanadatta, having propitiated Siva, and beheld him face to face, and having obtained from him sciences difficult for his enemies to conquer, has slain Mánasavega and Gaurímunda in the southern division of the Vidyádhara territory, and conquered Mandaradeva who was lord in the northern division, and has obtained [592] the high dignity of emperor over all the kings of the Vidyádharas in both divisions, who acknowledge his authority; and has now gone through his solemn coronation on the Rishabha mountain, and is thinking, king, with eager yearning of you and your queens and ministers. And I have been sent by him, so come at once; for fortunate are those who live to see their offspring elevate their race." When the king of Vatsa heard Váyupatha say this, being full of longing for his son, he seemed like a peacock that rejoices when it hears the roaring of the rain-clouds. So he accepted Váyupatha's invitation, and immediately mounted a palanquin with him, and by the might of his sciences travelled through the air, accompanied by his wives and ministers, and reached that great heavenly mountain called Rishabha. And there he saw his son on a heavenly throne, in the midst of the Vidyádhara kings, accompanied by many wives; resembling the moon reclining on the top of the eastern mountain, surrounded by the planetary host, and attended by a company of many stars. To the king the sight of his son in all this splendour was a shower of nectar, and when he was bedewed with it, his heart swelled with joy, and he closely resembled the sea when the moon rises. Naraváhanadatta, for his part, beholding that father of his after a long separation, rose up hurriedly and eager, and went to meet him with his train. And then his father embraced him, and folded him to his bosom, and he went through a second sprinkling, [593] being bathed in a flood of his father's tears of joy. And the queen Vásavadattá long embraced her son, and bathed him with the milk that flowed from her breasts at beholding him, so that he remembered his childhood. And Padmávatí, and Yaugandharáyana, and the rest of his father's ministers, and his uncle Gopálaka, beholding him after a long interval, drank in with thirsty eyes his ambrosial frame, like partridges; while the king treated them with the honour which they deserved. And Kalingasená, beholding her son-in-law and also her daughter, felt as if the whole world was too narrow for her, much less could her own limbs contain her swelling heart. And Yaugandharáyana and the other ministers, beholding their sons, Harisikha and the others, on whom celestial powers had been bestowed by the favour of their sovereign, congratulated them. [594] And queen Madanamanchuká wearing heavenly ornaments, with Ratnaprabhá, Alankáravatí, Lalitalochaná, Karpúriká, Saktiyasas and Bhagírathayasas, and the sister of Ruchiradeva, who bore a heavenly form, and Vegavatí, and Ajinávatí with Gandharvadattá, and Prabhávatí and Átmaniká and Váyuvegayasas, and her four beautiful friends, headed by Káliká, and those five other heavenly nymphs, of whom Mandaradeví was the chief,--all these wives of the emperor Naraváhanadatta bowed before the feet of their father-in-law the king of Vatsa, and also of Vásavadattá and Padmávatí, and they in their delight loaded them with blessings, as was fitting. And when the king of Vatsa and his wives had occupied seats suited to their dignity, Naraváhanadatta ascended his lofty throne. And the queen Vásavadattá was delighted to see those various new daughters-in-law, and asked their names and lineage. And the king of Vatsa and his suite, beholding the godlike splendour of Naraváhanadatta, came to the conclusion that they had not been born in vain. And in the midst of this great rejoicing [595] at the reunion of relations, the brave warder Ruchideva entered and said "The banqueting-hall is ready, so be pleased to come there." When they heard it, they all went to that splendid banqueting-hall. It was full of goblets made of various jewels, which looked like so many expanded lotuses, and strewn with many flowers, so that it resembled a lotus-bed in a garden; and it was crowded with ladies with jugs full of intoxicating liquor, who made it flash like the nectar appearing in the arms of Garuda. There they drank wine that snaps those fetters of shame that bind the ladies of the harem; wine, the essence of Love's life, the ally of merriment. Their faces, expanded and red with wine, shone like the lotuses in the lakes, expanded and red with the rays of the rising sun. And the goblets of the rosy hue of the lotus, finding themselves surpassed by the lips of the queens, and seeming terrified at touching them, hid with their hue the wine. Then the queens of Naraváhanadatta began to show signs of intoxication, with their contracted eye-brows and fiery eyes, and the period of quarrelling seemed to be setting in; [596] nevertheless they went thence in order to the hall [597] of feasting, which was attractive with its various viands provided by the power of magic. It was strewed with coverlets, abounding in dishes, and hung with curtains and screens, full of all kinds of delicacies and enjoyments, and it looked like the dancing-ground of the goddesses of good fortune. There they took their meal, and the sun having retired to rest with the twilight on the western mountain, they reposed in sleeping pavilions. And Naraváhanadatta, dividing himself by his science into many forms, was present in the pavilions of all the queens. But in his true personality he enjoyed the society of his beloved Madanamanchuká, who resembled the night in being moon-faced, having eyes twinkling like stars, and being full of revelry. And the king of Vatsa too, and his train, spent that night in heavenly enjoyments, seeming as if they had been born again without changing their bodies. And in the morning all woke up, and delighted themselves in the same way with various enjoyments in splendid gardens and pavilions produced by magic power. Then, after they had spent many days in various amusements, the king of Vatsa, wishing to return to his own city, went full of affection to his son the king of all the Vidyádharas, who bowed humbly before him, and said to him, "My son, who, that has sense, can help appreciating these heavenly enjoyments? But the love of dwelling in one's mother-country naturally draws every man; [598] so I mean to return to my own city; but do you enjoy this fortune of Vidyádhara royalty, for these regions suit you as being half god and half man. However, you must summon me again some time, when a suitable occasion presents itself; for this is the fruit of this birth of mine, that I behold this beautiful moon of your countenance, full of nectar worthy of being drunk in with the eyes, and that I have the delight of seeing your heavenly splendour. When king Naraváhanadatta heard this sincere speech of his father the king of Vatsa, he quickly summoned Devamáya the Vidyádhara prince, and said to him in a voice half-choked with a weight of tears, "My father is returning to his own capital with my mothers, and his ministers, and the rest of his train, so send on in front of him a full thousand bháras [599] of gold and jewels, and employ a thousand Vidyádhara serfs to carry it." When Devamáya had received this order given in kind tones by his master, he bowed and said, "Bestower of honour, I will go in person with my attendants to Kausámbí to perform this duty." Then the emperor sent Váyupatha and Devamáya to attend on their journey his father and his followers, whom he honoured with presents of raiment and ornaments. Then the king of Vatsa and his suite mounted a heavenly chariot, and he went to his own city, after making his son, who followed him a long way, turn back. And queen Vásavadattá, whose longing regret rose at that moment with hundred-fold force, turned back her dutiful son with tears, and looking back at him, with difficulty tore herself away. And Naraváhanadatta, who, accompanied by his ministers, had followed his parents and elders, returned to that mountain of Rishabha with his eyes blinded with tears. There that emperor remained with his ministers, Gomukha and the rest, who had grown up with him from his youth, and with hosts of Vidyádhara kings, with his wives, and with Madanamanchuká at his side, in the perpetual enjoyment of heavenly pleasures, and he was ever free from satiety. BOOK XVI. CHAPTER CXI. May Ganesa protect you, the ornamental streaks of vermilion on whose cheeks fly up in the dance, and look like the fiery might of obstacles swallowed and disgorged by him. While Naraváhanadatta was thus living on that Rishabha mountain with his wives and his ministers, and was enjoying the splendid fortune of emperor over the kings of the Vidyádharas, which he had obtained, once on a time spring came to increase his happiness. After long intermission the light of the moon was beautifully clear, and the earth, enfolded by the young fresh grass, shewed its joy by sweating dewy drops, and the forest trees, closely embraced again and again by the winds of the Malaya mountain, were all trembling, bristling with thorns, and full of sap. [600] The warder of Cupid, the cuckoo, beholding the stalk of the mango-tree, with his note seemed to forbid the pride of coy damsels; and rows of bees fell with a loud hum from the flowery creepers, like showers of arrows shot from the bow of the great warrior Eros. And Naraváhanadatta's ministers, Gomukha and the others, beholding at that time this activity of Spring, said to Naraváhanadatta; "See, king, this mountain of Rishabha is altogether changed, and is now a mountain of flowers, since the dense lines of forest with which it is covered, have their blossoms full-blown with spring. Behold, king, the creepers, which, with their flowers striking against one another, seem to be playing the castanets; and with the humming of their bees, to be singing, as they are swayed to and fro by the wind; while the pollen, that covers them, makes them appear to be crowned with garlands; and the garden made ready by spring, in which they are, is like the Court of Cupid. Look at this mango shoot with its garland of bees; it looks like the bow of the god of love with loosened string, as he reposes after conquering the world. So come, let us go and enjoy this festival of spring on the bank of the river Mandákiní where the gardens are so splendid." When Naraváhanadatta had been thus exhorted by his ministers, he went with the ladies of his harem to the bank of the Mandákiní. And there he diverted himself in a garden resounding with the song of many birds, adorned with cardamom-trees, clove-trees, vakulas, asokas, and mandáras. And he sat down on a broad slab of moonstone, placing queen Madanamanchuká at his left hand, accompanied by the rest of his harem, and attended by various princes of the Vidyádharas, of whom Chandasinha and Amitagati were the chief; and while drinking wine and talking on various subjects, the sovereign, having observed the beauty of the season, said to his ministers, "The southern breeze is gentle and soft to the feel; the horizon is clear; the gardens in every corner are full of flowers and fragrant; sweet are the strains of the cuckoo, and the joys of the banquet of wine; what pleasure is wanting in the spring? Still, separation from one's beloved is during that season hard to bear. Even animals [601] find separation from their mates in the spring a severe affliction. For instance, behold this hen-cuckoo here distressed with separation! For she has been long searching for her beloved, that has disappeared from her gaze, with plaintive cries, and not being able to find him, she is now cowering on a mango, mute and like one dead." When the king had said this, his minister Gomukha said to him, "It is true, all creatures find separation hard to bear at this time; and now listen, king; I will tell you in illustration of this something that happened in Srávastí." Story of the devoted couple, Súrasena and Sushená. [602] In that town there dwelt a Rájpút, who was in the service of the monarch, and lived on the proceeds of a village. His name was Súrasena, and he had a wife named Sushená, who was a native of Málava. She was in every respect well suited to him, and he loved her more than life. One day the king summoned him, and he was about to set out for his camp, when his loving wife said to him, "My husband, you ought not to go off and leave me alone; for I shall not be able to exist here for a moment without you." When Súrasena's wife said this to him, he replied, "How can I help going, when the king summons me? Do you not understand my position, fair one? You see, I am a Rájpút, and a servant, dependent on another for my subsistence." When his wife heard this, she said to him with tears in her eyes, "If you must of necessity go, I shall manage to endure it somehow, if you return not one day later than the commencement of spring." Having heard this, he at last said to her, "Agreed, my dear! I will return on the first day of the month Chaitra, even if I have to leave my duty." When he said this, his wife was at last induced to let him go; and so Súrasena went to attend on the king in his camp. And his wife remained at home, counting the days in eager expectation, looking for the joyful day on which spring begins, on which her husband was to return. At last, in the course of time, that day of the spring-festival arrived, resonant with the songs of cuckoos, that seemed like spells to summon the god of love. The humming of bees drunk with the fragrance of flowers, fell on the ear, like the twanging of Cupid's bow as he strung it. On that day Súrasena's wife Sushená said to herself, "Here is that spring-festival arrived; my beloved will, without fail, return to-day. So she bathed, and adorned herself, and worshipped the god of Love, and remained eagerly awaiting his arrival. But the day came to an end and her husband did not return, and during the course of that night she was grievously afflicted by despondency, and said to herself, "The hour of my death has come, but my husband has not returned; for those whose souls are exclusively devoted to the service of another do not care for their own families." While she was making these reflections, with her heart fixed upon her husband, her breath left her body, as if consumed by the forest-fire of love. In the meanwhile Súrasena, eager to behold his wife, and true to the appointed day, got himself, though with great difficulty, relieved from attendance on the king, and mounting a swift camel, accomplished a long journey, and arriving in the last watch of the night, reached his own house. There he beheld that wife of his lying dead, with all her ornaments on her, looking like a creeper, with its flowers full blown, rooted up by the wind. When he saw her, he was beside himself, and he took her up in his arms, and the bereaved husband's life immediately left his body in an outburst of lamentation. But when their family goddess Chandí, the bestower of boons, saw that that couple had met their death in this way, she restored them to life out of compassion. And after breath had returned to them, having each had a proof of the other's affection, they continued inseparable for the rest of their lives. "Thus, in the season of spring, the fire of separation, fanned by the wind from the Malaya mountain, is intolerable to all creatures." When Gomukha had told this tale, Naraváhanadatta, thinking over it, suddenly became despondent. The fact is, in magnanimous men, the spirits, by being elevated or depressed, indicate beforehand the approach of good or evil fortune. [603] Then the day came to an end, and the sovereign performed his evening worship, and went to his bedroom, and got into bed, and reposed there. But in a dream at the end of the night [604] he saw his father being dragged away by a black female towards the southern quarter. The moment he had seen this, he woke up, and suspecting that some calamity might have befallen his father, he thought upon the science named Prajnapti, who thereupon presented herself, and he addressed this question to her, "Tell me, how has my father the king of Vatsa been going on? For I am alarmed about him on account of a sight which I saw in an evil dream." When he said this to the science that had manifested herself in bodily form, she said to him, "Hear what has happened to your father the king of Vatsa. "When he was in Kausámbí, he suddenly heard from a messenger, who had come from Ujjayiní, that king Chandamahásena was dead, and the same person told him that his wife the queen Angáravatí had burnt herself with his corpse. This so shocked him, that he fell senseless upon the ground: and when he recovered consciousness, he wept for a long time, with queen Vásavadattá and his courtiers, for his father-in-law and mother-in-law who had gone to heaven. But his ministers roused him by saying to him, 'In this transient world what is there that hath permanence? Moreover you ought not to weep for that king, who has you for a son-in-law, and Gopálaka for a son, and whose daughter's son is Naraváhanadatta.' When he had been thus admonished and roused from his prostration, he gave the offering of water to his father-in-law and mother-in-law. "Then that king of Vatsa said, with throat half-choked with tears, to his afflicted brother-in-law Gopálaka, who remained at his side out of affection, [605] 'Rise up, go to Ujjayiní, and take care of your father's kingdom, for I have heard from a messenger that the people are expecting you.' When Gopálaka heard this, he said, weeping, to the king of Vatsa, 'I cannot bear to leave you and my sister, to go to Ujjayiní. Moreover, I cannot bring myself to endure the sight of my native city, now that my father is not in it. So let Pálaka, my younger brother, be king there with my full consent.' When Gopálaka had by these words shown his unwillingness to accept the kingdom, the king of Vatsa sent his commander-in-chief Rumanvat to the city of Ujjayiní, and had his younger brother-in-law, named Pálaka, crowned king of it, with his elder brother's consent. "And reflecting on the instability of all things, he became disgusted with the objects of sense, and said to Yangandharáyana and his other ministers, 'In this unreal cycle of mundane existence all objects are at the end insipid; and I have ruled my realm, I have enjoyed pleasures, I have conquered my enemies; I have seen my son in the possession of paramount sway over the Vidyádharas; and now my allotted time has passed away together with my connections; and old age has seized me by the hair to hand me over to death; and wrinkles have invaded my body, as the strong invade the kingdom of a weakling; [606] so I will go to mount Kálinjara, and abandoning this perishable body, will there obtain the imperishable mansion of which they speak.' When the ministers had been thus addressed by the king, they thought over the matter; and then they all and queen Vásavadattá said to him with calm equanimity, 'Let it be, king, as it has pleased your highness; by your favour we also will try to obtain a high position in the next world.' "When they had said this to the king, being like-minded with himself, he formed a deliberate resolution, and said to his elder brother-in-law Gopálaka, who was present, 'I look upon you and Naraváhanadatta as equally my sons; so take care of this Kausámbí, I give you my kingdom.' When the king of Vatsa said this to Gopálaka, he replied, 'My destination is the same as yours, I cannot bear to leave you.' This he asserted in a persistent manner, being ardently attached to his sister; whereupon the king of Vatsa said to him, assuming [607] an anger, that he did not feel, 'To-day you have become disobedient, so as to affect a hypocritical conformity to my will; and no wonder, for who cares for the command of one who is falling from his place of power.' When the king spoke thus roughly to him, Gopálaka wept, with face fixed on the ground, and though he had determined to go to the forest, he turned back for a moment from his intention. "Then the king mounted an elephant, and accompanied by the queens Vásavadattá and Padmávatí, set out with his ministers. And when he left Kausámbí, the citizens followed him, with their wives, children, and aged sires, crying aloud and raining a tempest of tears. The king comforted them by saying to them, 'Gopálaka will take care of you,' and so at last he induced them to return, and passed on to mount Kálinjara. And he reached it, and went up it, and worshipped Siva, and holding in his hand his lyre Ghoshavatí, that he had loved all his life, and accompanied by his queens that were ever at his side, and Yangandharáyana and his other ministers, he hurled himself from the cliff. And even as they fell, a fiery chariot came and caught up the king and his companions, and they went in a blaze of glory to heaven." When Naraváhanadatta heard this from the science, he exclaimed, "Alas! my father!" and fell senseless on the ground. And when he recovered consciousness, he bewailed his father and mother and his father's ministers, in company with his own ministers, who had lost their fathers. But the chiefs of the Vidyádharas and Dhanavatí admonished him, saying, "How is it, king, that you are beside yourself, though you know the nature of this versatile world that perishes in a moment, and is like the show of a juggler? And how can you lament for your parents that are not to be lamented for, as they have done all they had to do on earth; who have seen you their son sole emperor over all the Vidyádharas?" When he had been thus admonished, he offered water to his parents, and put another question to that science, "Where is my uncle Gopálaka now? What did he do?" Then that science went on to say to the king, "When the king of Vatsa had gone to the mountain from which he meant to throw himself, Gopálaka, having lamented for him and his sister, and considering all things unstable, remained outside the city, and summoning his brother Pálaka from Ujjayiní, made over to him that kingdom of Kausámbí also. And then, having seen his younger brother established in two kingdoms, he went to the hermitage of Kasyapa in the ascetic-grove on the Black Mountain, [608] bent on abandoning the world. And there your uncle Gopálaka now is, clothed with a dress of bark, in the midst of self-mortifying hermits." When Naraváhanadatta heard that, he went in a chariot to the Black Mountain, with his suite, eager to visit that uncle. There he alighted from the sky, surrounded by Vidyádhara princes, and beheld that hermitage of the hermit Kasyapa. It seemed to gaze on him with many roaming black antelope like rolling eyes, and to welcome him with the songs of its birds. With the lines of smoke ascending into the sky, where pious men were offering the Agnihotra oblations, it seemed to point the way to heaven to the hermits. It was full of many mountain-like huge elephants, and resorted to by troops of monkeys [609]; and so seemed like a strange sort of Pátála, above ground, and free from darkness. In the midst of that grove of ascetics, he beheld his uncle surrounded by hermits, with long matted locks, clothed in the bark of a tree, looking like an incarnation of patience. And Gopálaka, when he saw his sister's son approach, rose up and embraced him, and pressed him to his bosom with tearful eyes. Then they, both of them, lamented their lost dear ones with renewed grief; whom will not the fire of grief torture, when fanned by the blast of a meeting with relations? When even the animals there were pained to see their grief, Kasyapa and the other hermits came up and consoled those two. Then that day came to an end, and next morning the emperor entreated Gopálaka to come and dwell in his kingdom. But Gopálaka said to him, "What, my child, do you not suppose that I have all the happiness I desire by thus seeing you? If you love me, remain here in this hermitage, during this rainy season, which has arrived." When Naraváhanadatta had been thus entreated by his uncle, he remained in the hermitage of Kasyapa on the Black Mountain, with his attendants, for the term mentioned. CHAPTER CXII. Now, one day, when Naraváhanadatta was in the hall of audience on the Black Mountain, his Commander-in-chief came before him, and said, "Last night, my sovereign, when I was on the top of my house, looking after my troops, I saw a woman being carried off through the air by a heavenly being, crying out, 'Alas! my husband!' and it seemed as if the moon, which is powerful at that season, had taken her and carried her off, finding that she robbed it of all its beauty. I exclaimed, 'Ah villain! where will you go, thus carrying off the wife of another? In the kingdom of king Naraváhanadatta the protector, which is the territory of the Vidyádharas, extending over sixty thousand yojanas, even animals do not work wickedness, much less other creatures.' When I had said this, I hastened with my attendants and arrested that swift-footed [610] one, and brought him down from the air with the lady: and when we looked at him, after bringing him down, we found that it was your brother-in-law, the Vidyádhara Ityaka, the brother of your principal queen, born to Madanavega by queen Kalingasená. We said to him, 'Who is this lady, and where are you taking her?' and then he answered; 'This is Suratamanjarí the daughter of the Vidyádhara chief Matangadeva by Chútamanjarí. Her mother promised her to me long ago; and then her father bestowed her on another, a mere man. So, if I have to-day recovered my own wife, and carried her off, what harm have I done?' When Ityaka had said so much, he was silent. "Then I said to Suratamanjarí, 'Lady, by whom were you married, and how did this person get possession of you?' Then she said, 'There is in Ujjayiní a fortunate king named Pálaka, he has a son, a prince named [611] Avantivardhana; by him I was married; and this night, when I was asleep on the top of the palace, and my husband was asleep also, I was carried off by this villain.' When she said this, I kept both of them here, the lady and Ityaka, the latter in fetters; it now remains for your majesty to decide what is to be done." When the emperor heard this from his Commander-in-chief Harisikha, he went in some perplexity to Gopálaka, and told him the story. Gopálaka said, "My dear nephew, I do not know about this; I know so much, that the lady was lately married to Pálaka's son; so let the prince be summoned from Ujjayiní, together with the minister Bharataroha; then we shall get at the truth." When the emperor received this advice from his uncle, he sent the Vidyádhara Dhúmasikha to Pálaka his younger uncle, and summoned from Ujjayiní that prince, his son, and the minister. When they arrived and bowed before the emperor, he and Gopálaka received them with love and courtesy, and questioned them about the matter under consideration. Then, in the presence of Avantivardhana, who looked like the moon robbed of the night, [612] of Suratamanjarí, her father, and of Ityaka, of Váyupatha and his peers, and the hermit Kasyapa, and the men-at-arms, Bharataroha began to speak as follows, "Once on a time all the citizens of Ujjayiní met together and said to Pálaka the king of that city 'To-morrow the festival, called the giving of water, will take place in this city, and if your majesty has not heard the true account of the origin of this festival, please listen to it now.'" Story of king Chandamahásena and the Asura's daughter. [613] Long ago your father Chandamahásena propitiated the goddess Chandí with asceticism, in order to obtain a splendid sword and a wife. She gave him her own sword, and about a wife said to him, "Thou shalt soon slay, my son, the Asura called Angáraka, and obtain his beautiful daughter Angáravatí for a wife." When the king had been favoured with this revelation from the goddess, he remained thinking on the Asura's daughter. Now, at this time, everybody that was appointed head police officer in Ujjayiní, was at once carried off by some creature at night and devoured. And this went on night after night. Then Chandamahásena roaming leisurely about the city at night, to investigate the matter for himself, found an adulterer. He cut off with his sword his oiled and curled head, and no sooner was his neck severed than a certain Rákshasa came and laid hold of him. The king exclaimed, "This is the gentleman that comes and eats the heads of the police at night," and laying hold of that Rákshasa by the hair, he prepared to slay him. Then the Rákshasa said "King, do not slay me under a false impression! There is another creature in this neighbourhood that eats the heads of the police." The king said, "Tell me! who is it?" and the Rákshasa continued, "There is in this neighbourhood an Asura of the name of Angáraka, whose home is in Pátála. He it is that eats your police-officers at the dead of night, O smiter of your foes. Moreover, prince, he carries off by force the daughters of kings from every quarter, and makes them attend on his daughter Angáravatí. If you see him roaming about in the forest, slay him, and attain your object in that way." When the Rákshasa had said this, the king let him go, and returned to his palace. And one day he went out to hunt. And in the place where he was hunting he saw a monstrous boar, with eyes red with fury, looking like a piece of the mountain of Antimony fallen from heaven. The king said to himself, "Such a creature cannot be a real boar, I wonder whether it is the Asura Angáraka that has the power of disguising himself:" so he smote the boar with shafts. But the boar recked not of his shafts, and overturning his chariot, entered a wide opening in the earth. But the heroic king entered after him, and did not see that boar, but saw in front of him a splendid castle. And he sat down on the bank of a lake, and saw there a maiden with a hundred others attending on her, looking like an incarnation of Rati. She came up to him and asked him the reason of his coming there, and having conceived an affection for him, said to him, looking at him with tearful eyes; "Alas! What a place have you entered! That boar that you saw, was really a Daitya, Angáraka by name, of adamantine frame and vast strength. At present he has abandoned the form of a boar and is sleeping, as he is tired, but when the time for taking food comes, he will wake up and do you a mischief. And I, fair sir, am his daughter, Angáravatí by name; and fearing that some misfortune may befall you, I feel as if my life were in my throat." When she said this to the king, he, remembering the boon that the goddess Chandí had given him, felt that he had now a good hope of accomplishing his object, and answered her, "If you have any love for me, do this which I tell you: when your father awakes, go and weep at his side, and when he asks you the reason, say, fair one, 'Father, if any one were to kill you in your reckless daring, what would become of me?' If you do this, you will ensure the happiness of both of us." When the king said this to her, she went, bewildered with love, and sat down and wept at the side of her father who had woke up; and when he asked her the cause of her weeping, she told him how she was afraid that some one would slay him. [614] Then the Daitya said to her, "Why, who can slay me who am of adamantine frame? the only vulnerable and vital point I have is in my left hand, and that the bow protects." This speech of his was heard by the king, who was at the time concealed near. Then the Daitya bathed and proceeded to worship Siva. At that moment the king appeared with his bow strung, and challenged to mortal combat the Daitya, who was observing religious silence. The Daitya lifted up his left hand, his right hand being engaged, and made a sign to the king to wait a little. That very moment the king smote him in that hand, which was his vital point, with a well-aimed arrow, and the Daitya fell on the earth. And just before he expired, he said, "If that man who has thus slain me when thirsty, does not every year offer water to my manes, his five ministers shall perish." The Daitya being thus slain, the king took his daughter Angáravatí, and returned to this city of Ujjayiní. "And after that king, your father, had married that queen, he used every year to have an offering of water made to the manes of Angáraka; and all here celebrate the feast called the giving of water; and to-day it has come round; so do, king, what your father did before you." Story of prince Avantivardhana and the daughter of the Mátanga who turned out to be a Vidyádharí. "When king Pálaka heard this speech of his subjects', he proceeded to set going in that city the festival of the giving of water. When the festival had begun, and the people had their attention occupied by it, and were engaged in shouting, suddenly an infuriated elephant, that had broken its fastenings, rushed in among them. That elephant, having got the better of its driving-hook, and shaken off its driver, roamed about in the city, and killed very many men in a short time. Though the elephant-keepers ran forward, accompanied by professional elephant-drivers, and the citizens also, no man among them was able to control that elephant. At last, in the course of its wanderings, the elephant reached the quarter of the Chandálas, and there came out from it a Chandála maiden. She illuminated the ground with the beauty of the lotus that seemed to cling to her feet, delighted because she surpassed with the loveliness of her face the moon its enemy. [615] She looked like the night that gives rest to the eyes of the world, because its attention is diverted from other objects, and so it remains motionless at that time. [616] That maiden struck that mighty elephant, that came towards her, with her hand, on its trunk; and smote it with those sidelong looks askance of hers. The elephant was fascinated with the touch of her hand and penetrated with her glance, and remained with head bent down, gazing at her, and never moved a step. [617] Then that fair lady made a swing with her upper garment, which she fastened to its tusks, and climbed up and got into it, and amused herself with swinging. Then the elephant, seeing that she felt the heat, went into the shade of a tree; and the citizens, who were present, seeing this great wonder, exclaimed, "Ah! This is some glorious heavenly maiden, who charms even animals by her power, which is as transcendent as her beauty." And in the meanwhile the prince Avantivardhana, hearing of it, came out to see the wonderful sight, and beheld that maiden. As he gazed, the deer of his heart ran into that net of the hunter Love, and was entangled by it. She too, when she saw him, her heart being charmed by his beauty, came down from that swing, which she had put up on the elephant's tusks, and took her upper garment. Then a driver mounted the elephant, and she went home, looking at the prince with an expression of shame and affection. And Avantivardhana, for his part, the disturbance caused by the elephant having come to an end, went home to his palace with his bosom empty, his heart having been stolen from it by her. And when he got home, he was tortured by no longer seeing that lovely maiden, and forgetting the feast of the giving of water, which had begun, he said to his companions, "Do you know whose daughter that maiden is, and what her name is?" When his friends heard that, they said to him, "There is a certain Mátanga [618] in the quarter of the Chandálas, named Utpalahasta, and she is his daughter, Suratamanjarí by name. Her lovely form can give pleasure to the good [619] only by being looked at, like that of a pictured beauty, but cannot be touched without pollution." When the prince heard that from his friends, he said to them, "I do not think she can be the daughter of a Mátanga, she is certainly some heavenly maiden; for a Chandála maiden would never possess such a beautiful form. Lovely as she is, if she does not become my wife, what is the profit of my life?" So the prince continued to say, and his ministers could not check him, but he was exceedingly afflicted with the fire of separation from her. Then queen Avantivatí and king Pálaka, his parents, having heard that, were for a long time quite bewildered. The queen said, "How comes it that our son, though born in a royal family, has fallen in love with a girl of the lowest [620] caste?" Then king Pálaka said, "Since the heart of our son is thus inclined, it is clear that she is really a girl of another caste, who for some reason or other has fallen among the Mátangas. The minds of the good tell them by inclination or aversion what to do and what to avoid. In illustration of this, queen, listen to the following tale, if you have not already heard it." Story of the young Chandála who married the daughter of king Prasenajit. [621] Long ago king Prasenajit, in a city named Supratishthita, had a very beautiful daughter named Kurangí. One day she went out into the garden, and an elephant, that had broken from its fastenings, charged her, and flung her up on his tusks litter and all. Her attendants dispersed shrieking, but a young Chandála snatched up a sword and ran towards the elephant. The brave fellow cut off the trunk of that great elephant with a sword-stroke, and killed it, and so delivered the princess. Then her retinue came together again, and she returned to her palace with her heart captivated by the great courage and striking good looks of the young Chandála. And she remained in a state of despondency at being separated from him, saying to herself, "Either I must have that man who delivered me from the elephant for a husband, or I must die." The young Chandála, for his part, went home slowly, and having his mind captivated by the princess, was tortured by thinking on her. He said to himself, "What a vast gulf is fixed between me, a man of the lowest caste, and that princess! How can a crow and a female swan ever unite? The idea is so ridiculous that I cannot mention it or consider it, so, in this difficulty, death is my only resource." After the young man had gone through these reflections, he went at night to the cemetery, and bathed, and made a pyre, and lighting the flame thus prayed to it, "O thou purifying fire, Soul of the Universe, may that princess be my wife hereafter in a future birth, in virtue of this offering up of myself as a sacrifice to thee!" When he had said this, he prepared to fling himself into the fire, but the Fire-god, pleased with him, appeared in visible shape before him, and said to him, "Do not act rashly, for she shall be thy wife, for thou art not a Chandála by birth, and what thou art I will tell thee, listen! "There is in this city a distinguished Bráhman of the name of Kapilasarman; in his fire-chamber I dwell in visible bodily shape. One day his maiden daughter came near me, and smitten with her beauty, I made her my wife, inducing her to forego her objections by promising her immunity from disgrace. And thou, my son, wert immediately born to her by virtue of my power, and she thereupon, out of shame, flung thee away in the open street; there thou wast found by some Chandálas and reared on goat's milk. [622] So thou art my son, born to me by a Bráhman lady. Therefore thou canst not be deemed impure, as thou art my son; and thou shalt obtain that princess Kurangí for a wife." When the god of fire had said this, he disappeared, and the Mátanga's adopted child was delighted, and conceived hope, and so went home. Then king Prasenajit, having been urged by the god in a dream, investigated the case, and finding out the truth, gave his daughter to the son of the Fire-god. "Thus, queen, there are always to be found heavenly beings in disguise upon the earth, and you may be assured Suratamanjarí is not a woman of the lowest caste, but a celestial nymph. For such a pearl, as she is, must belong to some other race than that of the Mátangas, and without doubt she was the beloved of my son in a former birth, and this is proved by his falling in love with her at first sight." When king Pálaka said this in our presence, I proceeded to relate the following story about a man of the fisher-caste. Story of the young fisher man who married a princess. Long ago there lived in Rájagriha a king named Malayasinha, and he had a daughter named Máyávatí of matchless beauty. One day a young man of the fisher-caste, named Suprahára, who was in the bloom of youth and good looks, saw her as she was amusing herself in a spring-garden. The moment he saw her, he was overpowered by love; for destiny never considers whether a union is possible or impossible. So he went home, and abandoning his occupation of catching fish, he took to his bed, and refused to eat, thinking only on the princess. And when persistently questioned, he told his wish to his mother named Rakshitiká, and she said to her son, "My son, abandon your despondency, and take food; I will certainly compass this your end for you by my ingenuity." When she said this to him, he was consoled, and cherished hopes, and took food; and his mother went to the palace of the princess with fish from the lake. [623] There that fisher-wife was announced by the maids, and went in, on the pretext of paying her respects, and gave the princess that present of fish. And in this way she came regularly day after day, and made the princess a present, and so gained her goodwill, and made her desirous of speaking. And the pleased princess said to the fisher-wife, "Tell me what you wish me to do; I will do it, though it be ever so difficult." Then the fisher-wife begged that her boldness might be pardoned, and said in secret to the princess, "Royal lady, my son has seen you in a garden, and is tortured by the thought that he cannot be near you; and I can only manage to prevent his committing suicide by holding out hopes to him; so, if you feel any pity for me, restore my son to life by touching him." When the princess was thus entreated by the fisher-wife, hesitating between shame and a desire to oblige, after reflection, she said to her, "Bring your son to my palace secretly at night." When the fisher-wife heard this, she went in high spirits to her son. And when night came, she deliberately adorned her son as well as she could, and brought him to the private apartments of the princess. There the princess took Suprahára, who had pined for her so long, by the hand, and affectionately welcomed him, and made him lie down on a sofa, and comforted him whose limbs were withered by the fire of separation, by shampooing him with her hand, the touch of which was cool as sandal-wood. And the fisher-boy was thereby, as it were, bedewed with nectar, and thinking that after long waiting he had attained his desire, he took his rest, and was suddenly seized by sleep. And when he was asleep, the princess escaped, and slept in another room, having thus pleased the fisher-boy, and having avoided being disgraced through him. Then that son of the fisher-folk woke up, owing to the cessation of the touch of her hand, and not seeing his beloved, who had thus come within his grasp, and again vanished, like a pot of treasure in the case of a very poor man, who is despondent for its loss, he was reft of all hope, and his breath at once left his body. When the princess found that out, she came there, and blamed herself, and made up her mind to ascend the funeral pyre with him next morning. Then her father, king Malayasinha, heard of it, and came there, and finding that she could not be turned from her resolve, he rinsed his mouth, and spake this speech; "If I am really devoted to the three-eyed god of gods, tell me, ye guardians of the world, what it is my duty to do." When the king said this, a heavenly voice answered him, "Thy daughter was in a former life the wife of this son of the fisher-folk. "For, long ago, there lived in a village, called Nágasthala, a virtuous Bráhman of the name of Baladhara, the son of Mahídhara. When his father had gone to heaven, he was robbed of his wealth by his relations, and being disgusted with the world, he went with his wife to the bank of the Ganges. While he was remaining there without food, in order to abandon the body, he saw some fishermen eating fish, and his hunger made him long for it in his heart. So he died with his mind polluted by that desire, but his wife kept her aspirations pure, and continuing firm in penance, followed him in death. [624] "That very Bráhman, owing to that pollution of his desires, has been born in the fisher-caste. But his wife, who remained firm in her asceticism, has been born as thy daughter, O king. So let this blameless daughter of thine, by the gift of half her life, [625] raise up this dead youth, who was her husband in a former life. For, owing to the might of her asceticism, this youth, who was thus purified by the splendour of that holy bathing-place, shall become thy son-in-law, and a king." When the king had been thus addressed by the divine voice, he gave his daughter in marriage to that youth Suprahára, who recovered his life by the gift of half hers. And Suprahára became a king by means of the land, elephants, horses, and jewels, which his father-in-law gave him, and, having obtained his daughter as a wife, lived the life of a successful man. Story of the Merchant's daughter who fell in love with a thief. [626] "In this way a connexion in a former birth usually produces affection in embodied beings; moreover, in illustration of this truth, listen to the following story about a thief." In Ayodhyá there lived of old time a king named Vírabáhu, who always protected his subjects as if they were his own children. And one day the citizens of his capital came to him and said, "King, some thieves plunder this city every night, and though we keep awake for the purpose, we cannot detect them." When the king heard that, he placed scouts in the city at night to keep watch. But they did not catch the thieves and the mischief did not abate. Accordingly the king went out himself at night to investigate the matter. And as he was wandering about in every direction, alone, sword in hand, he saw a man going along on the top of the rampart; he seemed to tread lightly out of fear; his eyes rolled rapidly like those of a crow; and he looked round like a lion, frequently turning his neck. He was rendered visible by the steel-gleams that flashed from his naked sword, which seemed like binding ropes sent forth to steal those jewels which men call stars. [627] And the king said to himself; "I am quite certain that this man is a thief; no doubt he sallies out alone and plunders this my city." Having come to this conclusion, the wily monarch went up to the thief; and the thief said to him with some trepidation, "Who are you, Sir?" Then the king said to him, "I am a desperate robber, whose many vices make him hard to keep; [628] tell me in turn, who you are." The thief answered, "I am a robber, that goes out to plunder alone; and I have great wealth; so come to my house: I will satisfy your longing for riches." When the thief made him this promise, the king said, "So be it," and went with him to his dwelling, which was in an underground excavation. It was inhabited by beautiful women, it gleamed with many jewels, it was full of ever new delights, and seemed like the city of the snakes. [629] Then the thief went into the inner chamber of his dwelling, and the king remained in the outer room; and while he was there, a female servant, compassionating him, came and said to him, "What kind of place have you entered? Leave it at once, for this man is a treacherous assassin, and as he goes on his expeditions alone, will be sure to murder you, to prevent his secrets being divulged." [630] When the king heard that, he went out at once, and quickly repaired to his palace; and summoning his commander-in-chief, returned with his troops. And he came and surrounded the thief's dwelling, and made the bravest men enter it, and so brought the thief back a prisoner, and carried off all his wealth. When the night had come to an end, the king ordered his execution; and he was led off to the place of execution through the middle of the market. And as he was being led along through that part of the town, a merchant's daughter saw him, and fell in love with him at first sight, and she immediately said to her father, "Know that if this man, who is being led off to execution preceded by the drum of death, does not become my husband, I shall die myself." Then her father, seeing that she could not be dissuaded from her resolution, went and tried to induce the king to spare that thief's life by offering ten millions of coins. But the king, instead of sparing the thief's life, ordered him to be immediately impaled, [631] and was very angry with the merchant. Then the merchant's daughter, whose name was Vámadattá, took the corpse of that robber, and out of love for him entered the fire with it. "So, you see, creatures are completely dependent upon connexions in previous births, and this being the case, who can avoid a destiny that is fated to him, and who can prevent such a destiny's befalling anybody? Therefore, king, it is clear that this Suratamanjarí is some excellent being that was the wife of your son Avantivardhana in a previous birth, and is therefore destined to be his wife again; otherwise how could such a high-born prince have formed such an attachment for her, a woman of the Mátanga caste? So let this Mátanga, her father Utpalahasta, be asked to give the prince his daughter; and let us see what he says." When I had said this to king Pálaka, he at once sent messengers to Utpalahasta to ask for his daughter. And the Mátanga, when entreated by those messengers to give her in marriage, answered them, "I approve of this alliance, but I must give my daughter Suratamanjarí to the man who makes eighteen thousand of the Bráhmans, that dwell in this city, eat in my house." When the messengers heard this speech of the Mátanga's, that contained a solemn promise, they went back and reported it faithfully to king Pálaka. Thinking that there was some reason for this, [632] the king called together all the Bráhmans in the city of Ujjayiní, and telling them the whole story, said to them, "So you must eat here in the house of the Mátanga Utpalahasta, eighteen thousand of you; I will not have it otherwise." When the Bráhmans had been thus commanded by the king, being at the same time afraid of touching the food of a Chandála, and therefore at a loss what to do, they went to the shrine of Mahákála and performed self-torture. Then the god Siva, who was present there in the form of Mahákála, commanded those Bráhmans in a dream, saying, "Eat food here in the house of the Mátanga Utpalahasta, for he is a Vidyádhara; neither he nor his family are Chandálas." Then those Bráhmans rose up and went to the king, and told him the dream, and went on to say, "So let this Utpalahasta cook pure food for us in some place outside the quarter of the Chandálas, and then we will eat it at his hands." When the king heard this, he had another house made for Utpalahasta, and being highly delighted, he had food cooked for him there by pure cooks: and then eighteen thousand Bráhmans ate there, while Utpalahasta stood in front of them, bathed, and clothed in a pure garment. And after they had eaten, Utpalahasta came to king Pálaka, in the presence of his subjects, and bowing before him, said to him, "There was an influential prince of the Vidyádharas, named Gaurímunda; I was a dependent of his, named Matangadeva; and when, king, that daughter of mine Suratamanjarí had been born, Gaurímunda secretly said to me, 'The gods assert that this son of the king of Vatsa, who is called Naraváhanadatta, is to be our emperor: so go quickly, and kill that foe of ours by means of your magic power, before be has attained the dignity of emperor.' "When the wicked Gaurímunda had sent me on this errand, I went to execute it, and while going along through the air, I saw Siva in front of me. The god, being displeased, made an angry roar, and immediately pronounced on me this curse, 'How is it, villain, that thou dost plot evil against a noble-minded man? So go, wicked one, and fall with this same body of thine into the midst of the Chandálas in Ujjayiní, together with thy wife and daughter. And when some one shall make eighteen thousand of the Bráhmans, that dwell in that city, eat in thy house by way of a gift to purchase thy daughter; then thy curse shall come to an end, and thou must marry thy daughter to the man who bestows on thee that gift.' "When Siva had said this, he disappeared, and I, that very Matangadeva, assuming the name of Utpalahasta, fell among men of the lowest caste, but I do not mix with them. However, my curse is now at an end, owing to the favour of your son, so I give him my daughter Suratamanjarí. And now I will go to my own dwelling-place among the Vidyádharas, in order to pay my respects to the emperor Naraváhanadatta." When Matangadeva had said this, he solemnly gave the prince his daughter, and flying up into the air with his wife, repaired, king, to thy feet. "And king Pálaka, having thus ascertained the truth, celebrated with great delight the marriage of Suratamanjarí and his son. And his son Avantivardhana, having obtained that Vidyádharí for a wife, felt himself fortunate in having gained more than he had ever hoped for. "Now, one day, that prince went to sleep on the top of the palace with her and at the end of the night he woke up, and suddenly discovered that his beloved was nowhere to be seen. He looked for her, but could not find her anywhere, and then he lamented, and was so much afflicted that his father the king came, and was exceedingly discomposed. We all, being assembled there at that time, said, 'This city is well-guarded, no stranger could enter it during the night; no doubt she must have been carried off by some evilly disposed wanderer of the air;' and even while we were saying that, your servant the Vidyádhara Dhúmasikha descended from the sky. He brought here this prince Avantivardhana, and king Pálaka also was asked to part with me, in order that I might state the facts of the case. Here too is Suratamanjarí with her father, and the facts concerning her are such as I have said: your Majesty is the best judge of what ought to be done now." When Bharataroha the minister of Pálaka had told this tale, he stopped speaking; and the assessors put this question to Matangadeva in the presence of Naraváhanadatta, "Tell us, to whom did you give this daughter of yours Suratamanjarí?" He answered, "I gave her to Avantivardhana." Then they put this question to Ityaka, "Now do you tell us why you carried her off?" He answered, "Her mother promised her to me originally." The assessors said to Ityaka, "While the father is alive, what authority has the mother? Moreover, where is your witness to prove the fact of the mother having promised her to you? So she is with regard to you the wife of another, villain!" When Ityaka was thus put to silence by the assessors, the emperor Naraváhanadatta, being angry with him, ordered his immediate execution on the ground of his misconduct. But the good hermits, with Kasyapa at their head, came and entreated him, saying, "Forgive now this one fault of his: for he is the son of Madanavega, and therefore your brother-in-law." So the king was at last induced to spare his life, and let him off with a severe reprimand. And he reunited that son of his maternal uncle, Avantivardhana, to his wife, and sent them off with their ministers to their own city, in the care of Váyupatha. CHAPTER CXIII. When Naraváhanadatta on the Black Mountain had thus taken away the virtuous Suratamanjarí from his brother-in-law Ityaka, who had carried her off, and had reprimanded him, and had given her back to her husband, and was sitting in the midst of the hermits, the sage Kasyapa came and said to him, "There never was, king, and there never will be an emperor like you, since you do not allow passion and other feelings of the kind to influence your mind, when you are sitting on the seat of judgment. Fortunate are they who ever behold such a righteous lord as you are; for, though your empire is such as it is, no fault can be found with you. "There were in former days Rishabha and other emperors; and they, being seized with various faults, were ruined and fell from their high estate. Rishabha, and Sarvadamana, and the third Bandhujívaka, all these, through excessive pride, were punished by Indra. And the Vidyádhara prince Jímútaváhana, when the sage Nárada came and asked him the reason of his obtaining the rank of emperor, told him how he gave away the wishing-tree and his own body, [633] and thus he fell from his high position by revealing his own virtuous deeds. And the sovereign named Visvántara, who was emperor here, he too, when his son Indívaráksha had been slain by Vasantatilaka, the king of Chedi, for seducing his wife, being wanting in self-control, died on account of the distracting sorrow which he felt for the death of his wicked son. "But Tárávaloka alone, who was by birth a mighty human king, and obtained by his virtuous deeds the imperial sovereignty over the Vidyádharas, long enjoyed the high fortune of empire without falling into sin, and at last abandoned it of his own accord, out of distaste for all worldly pleasures, and went to the forest. Thus in old times did most of the Vidyádhara emperors, puffed up with the attainment of their high rank, abandon the right path, and fall, blinded with passion. So you must always be on your guard against slipping from the path of virtue, and you must take care that your Vidyádhara subjects do not swerve from righteousness." When the hermit Kasyapa said this to Naraváhanadatta, the latter approved his speech, and said to him with deferential courtesy, "How did Tárávaloka, being a man, obtain in old time the sway over the Vidyádharas? Tell me, reverend Sir." When Kasyapa heard this, he said, "Listen, I will tell you his story." Story of Tárávaloka. There lived among the Sivis [634] a king of the name of Chandrávaloka; that sovereign had a head-wife named Chandralekhá. Her race was as spotless as the sea of milk, she was pure herself, and in character like the Ganges. And he had a great elephant that trampled the armies of his enemies, known on the earth as Kuvalayapída. Owing to the might of that elephant, the king was never conquered by any enemy in his realm, in which the real power was in the hands of the subjects. And when his youth came to an end, that king had a son, with auspicious marks, born to him by his queen Chandralekhá. He gave the son the name of Tárávaloka, and he gradually grew up, and his inborn virtues of liberality, self-control, and discernment grew with him. And the mighty-minded youth learnt the meaning of all words except one; but he was so liberal to suppliants that he cannot be said ever to have learnt the meaning of the word "No." Gradually he became old in actions, though young in years; and though like the sun in fire of valour, he was exceedingly pleasing to look at; [635] like the full moon, he became beautiful by the possession of all noble parts; like the god of Love, he excited the longing of the whole world; in obedience to his father he came to surpass Jímútaváhana, and he was distinctly marked with the signs of a great emperor. Then his father, the king Chandrávaloka, brought for that son of his the daughter of the king of the Madras, named Mádrí. And when he was married, his father, pleased with the supereminence of his virtues, at once appointed him Crown-prince. And when Tárávaloka had been appointed Crown-prince, he had made, with his father's permission, alms-houses for the distribution of food and other necessaries. And every day, the moment he got up, he mounted the elephant Kuvalayapída, and went round to inspect those alms-houses. [636] To whosoever asked anything he was ready to give it, even if it were his own life: in this way the fame of that Crown-prince spread in every quarter. Then he had two twin sons born to him by Mádrí, and the father called them Ráma and Lakshmana. And the boys grew like the love and joy of their parents, and they were dearer than life to their grandparents. And Tárávaloka and Mádrí were never tired of looking at them, as they bent before them, being filled with virtue, like two bows of the prince, being strung. [637] Then the enemies of Tárávaloka, seeing his elephant Kuvalayapída, his two sons, and his reputation for generosity, said to their Bráhmans, "Go and ask Tárávaloka to give you his elephant Kuvalayapída. If he gives it you, we shall be able to take from him his kingdom, as he will be deprived of that bulwark; if he refuses to give it, his reputation for generosity will be at an end." When the Bráhmans had been thus entreated, they consented, and asked Tárávaloka, that hero of generosity, for that elephant. Tárávaloka said to himself, "What do Bráhmans mean by asking for a mighty elephant? So I know for certain that they have been put up to asking me by some one. Happen what will, I must give them my splendid elephant, for how can I let a suppliant go away without obtaining his desire, while I live?" After going through these reflections, Tárávaloka gave the elephant to those Bráhmans with unwavering mind. Then Chandrávaloka's subjects, seeing that splendid elephant being led away by those Bráhmans, went in a rage to the king, and said, "Your son has now abandoned this kingdom, and surrendering all his rights has taken upon him the vow of a hermit. For observe, he has given to some suppliants this great elephant Kuvalayapída, the foundation of the kingdom's prosperity, that scatters with its mere smell all other elephants. So you must either send your son to the forest to practise asceticism, or take back the elephant, or else we will set up another king in your place." [638] When Chandrávaloka had been thus addressed by the citizens, he sent his son a message in accordance with their demands through the warder. When his son Tárávaloka heard that, he said, "As for the elephant, I have given it away, and it is my principle to refuse nothing to suppliants; but what do I care for such a throne as this, which is under the thumb of the subjects, or for a royal dignity which does not benefit others, [639] and anyhow is transient as the lightning? So it is better for me to live in the forest, among trees which give the fortune of their fruits to be enjoyed by all, and not here among such beasts of men as these subjects are." [640] When Tárávaloka had said this, he assumed the dress of bark, and after kissing the feet of his parents and giving away all his wealth to suppliants, he went out from his own city, accompanied by his wife, who was firm in the same resolution as himself, and his two children, comforting, as well as he could, the weeping Bráhmans. Even beasts and birds, when they saw him setting forth, wept so piteously that the earth was bedewed with their rain of tears. Then Tárávaloka went on his way, with no possessions but a chariot and horses for the conveyance of his children; but some other Bráhmans asked him for the horses belonging to the chariot; he gave them to them immediately, and drew the chariot himself, with the assistance of his wife to convey those tender young sons to the forest. Then, as he was wearied out in the middle of the forest, another Bráhman came up to him, and asked him for his horseless chariot. He gave it to him without the slightest hesitation, and the resolute fellow, going along on his feet, with his wife and sons, at last with difficulty reached the grove of mortification. There he took up his abode at the foot of a tree, and lived with deer for his only retinue, nobly waited on by his wife Mádrí. And the forest regions ministered to the heroic prince, while living in this kingdom of devotion; their clusters of flowers waving in the wind were his beautiful chowries, broad-shaded trees were his umbrellas, leaves his bed, rocks his thrones, bees his singing-women, and various fruits his savoury viands. Now, one day, his wife Mádrí left the hermitage to gather fruits and flowers for him with her own hands, and a certain old Bráhman came and asked Tárávaloka, who was in his hut, for his sons Ráma and Lakshmana. Tárávaloka said to himself, "I shall be better able to endure letting these sons of mine, though they are quite infants, be led away, [641] than I could possibly manage to endure the sending a suppliant away disappointed: the fact is, cunning fate is eager to see my resolution give way": then he gave those sons to the Bráhman. And when the Bráhman tried to take them away, they refused to go; then he tied their hands and beat them with creepers; and as the cruel man took them away, they kept crying for their mother, and turning round and looking at their father with tearful eyes. Even when Tárávaloka saw that, he was unmoved, but the whole world of animate and inanimate existences was moved at his fortitude. Then the virtuous Mádrí slowly returned tired from a remote part of the forest to her husband's hermitage, bringing with her flowers, fruits and roots. And she saw her husband, who had his face sadly fixed on the ground, but she could not see anywhere those sons of hers, though their toys, in the form of horses, chariots, and elephants of clay, were scattered about. Her heart foreboded calamity, and she said excitedly to her husband "Alas! I am ruined! Where are my little sons?" Her husband slowly answered her, "Blameless one, I gave those two little sons away to a poor Bráhman, who asked for them." When the good lady heard that, she rose superior to her distraction, and said to her husband, "Then you did well: how could you allow a suppliant to go away disappointed?" When she said this, the equally matched goodness of that married couple made the earth tremble, and the throne of Indra rock. Then Indra saw by his profound meditation that the world was made to tremble by virtue of the heroic generosity of Mádrí and Tárávaloka. Then he assumed the form of a Bráhman, and went to Tárávaloka's hermitage, to prove him, and asked him for his only wife Mádrí. And Tárávaloka was preparing to give without hesitation, by the ceremony of pouring water over the hands, [642] that lady who had been his companion in the wild forest, when Indra, thus disguised as a Bráhman, said to him, "Royal sage, what object do you mean to attain by giving away a wife like this?" Then Tárávaloka said, "I have no object in view, Bráhman; so much only do I desire, that I may ever give away to Bráhmans even my life." When Indra heard this, he resumed his proper shape, and said to him, "I have made proof of thee, and I am satisfied with thee; so I say to thee, thou must not again give away thy wife; and soon thou shalt be made emperor over all the Vidyádharas." When the god had said this, he disappeared. In the meanwhile that old Bráhman took with him those sons of Tárávaloka, whom he had received as a Bráhman's fee, and losing his way, arrived, as Fate would have it, at the city of that king Chandrávaloka, and proceeded to sell those princes in the market. Then the citizens recognised those two boys, and went and informed king Chandrávaloka, and took them with the Bráhman into his presence. The king, when he saw his grandsons, shed tears, and after he had questioned the Bráhman, and had heard the state of the case from him, he was for a long time divided between joy and grief. Then, perceiving the exceeding virtue of his son, he at once ceased to care about a kingdom, though his subjects entreated him to remain, but with his wealth he bought those two grandsons from the Bráhman, and taking them with him, went with his retinue to the hermitage of his son Tárávaloka. There he saw him with matted hair, wearing a dress of bark, looking like a great tree, the advantages of which are enjoyed by birds coming from every quarter, for he in like manner had bestowed all he had upon expectant Bráhmans. [643] That son ran towards him, while still a long way off, and fell at his feet, and his father bedewed him with tears, and took him up on his lap; and thus gave him a foretaste of his ascent of the throne, as emperor over the Vidyádharas, after the solemn sprinkling with water. Then the king gave back to Tárávaloka his sons Ráma and Lakshmana, saying that he had purchased them, and while they were relating to one another their adventures, an elephant with four tusks and the goddess Lakshmí descended from heaven. And when the chiefs of the Vidyádharas had also descended, Lakshmí, lotus in hand, said to that Tárávaloka, "Mount this elephant, and come to the country of the Vidyádharas, and there enjoy the imperial dignity [644] earned by your great generosity." When Lakshmí said this, Tárávaloka, after bowing at the feet of his father, mounted that celestial elephant, with her, and his wife, and his sons, in the sight of all the inhabitants of the hermitage, and surrounded by the kings of the Vidyádharas went through the air to their domain. There the distinctive sciences of the Vidyádharas repaired to him, and he long enjoyed supreme sway, but at last becoming disgusted with all worldly pleasures, he retired to a forest of ascetics. "Thus Tárávaloka, though a man, acquired in old time by his deeds of spotless virtue the sovereignty of all the Vidyádharas. But others, after acquiring it, lost it by their offences: so be on your guard against unrighteous conduct either on your own part or on that of another." [645] When the hermit Kasyapa had told this story, and had thus admonished Naraváhanadatta, that emperor promised to follow his advice. And he had a royal proclamation made all round the mountain of Siva, to the following effect, "Listen, Vidyádharas; whoever of my subjects after this commits an unrighteous act, will certainly be put to death by me." The Vidyádharas received his commands with implicit submission, and his glory was widely diffused on account of his causing Suratamanjarí to be set at liberty; and so he lived with his retinue in the hermitage of that excellent sage, on the Black Mountain, [646] in the society of his maternal uncle, and in this manner spent the rainy season. BOOK XVII. CHAPTER CXIV. Glory to Siva, who assumes various forms; who, though his beloved takes up half his body, [647] is an ascetic, free from qualities, the due object of a world's adoration! We worship Ganesa, who, when fanning away the cloud of bees, that flies up from his trunk, with his flapping ears, seems to be dispersing the host of obstacles. Thus Naraváhanadatta, who had been established in the position of lord paramount over all the kings of the Vidyádharas, remained on that Black Mountain in order to get through the rainy season, spending the time in the hermitage of that sage Kasyapa, and in the society of his maternal uncle Gopálaka, who was living the life of an ascetic. He was accompanied by his ministers, and surrounded by twenty-five of his wives, and attended by various Vidyádhara princes, and he occupied himself in telling tales. One day, the hermits and his wives said to him, "Tell us now! When Mánasavega took away queen Madanamanchuká by his magic power, who amused you impatient of separation, and how did he do it?" When Naraváhanadatta had been asked this question by those hermits and by his wives, he proceeded to speak as follows; "Can I tell now how great grief I endured, when I found out that that wicked enemy had carried off my queen? There was no building, and no garden, or room, into which I did not roam seeking for her in my grief, and all my ministers with me. Then I sat down, as if beside myself, in a garden at the foot of a tree, and Gomukha, having obtained his opportunity, said to me, in order to console me, 'Do not be despondent, my sovereign; you will soon recover the queen; for the gods promised that you should rule the Vidyádharas with her as your consort; that must turn out as the gods predicted, for their promises are never falsified; and resolute men, after enduring separation, obtain reunion with those they love. Were not Rámabhadra, king Nala, and your own grandfather, [648] after enduring separation, reunited to their beloved wives? And was not Muktáphalaketu, emperor of the Vidyádharas, reunited to Padmávatí, after he had been separated from her? And now listen, king; I will tell you the story of that couple.' When Gomukha had said this, he told me the following tale." Story of king Brahmadatta and the Swans. [649] There is in this country a city famous over the earth by the name of Váránasí, which, like the body of Siva, is adorned with the Ganges, and bestows emancipation. With the flags on its temples swayed up and down by the wind, it seems to be ever saying to men "Come hither, and attain salvation." With the pinnacles of its white palaces it looks like the plateau of mount Kailása, the habitation of the god with the moon for a diadem, and it is full of troops of Siva's devoted servants. [650] In that city there lived of old time a king named Brahmadatta, [651] exclusively devoted to Siva, a patron of Bráhmans, brave, generous, and compassionate. His commands passed current through the earth, they stumbled not in rocky defiles, they were not whelmed in seas, there were no continents which they did not cross. He had a queen named Somaprabhá, [652] who was dear and delightful to him as the moonlight to the chakora, and he was as eager to drink her in with his eyes. And he had a Bráhman minister named Sivabhúti, equal to Vrihaspati in intellect, who had fathomed the meaning of all the Sástras. One night, that king, as he was lying on a bed on the top of a palace exposed to the rays of the moon, saw a couple of swans crossing through the air, with bodies of gleaming gold, looking like two golden lotuses opened in the water of the heavenly Ganges, [653] and attended by a train of king-geese. When that wonderful pair had passed from his eyes, the king was for a long time afflicted, and his mind was full of regret at no longer enjoying that sight. He passed that night without sleeping, and next morning he told his minister Sivabhúti what he had seen, and said to him, "So, if I cannot feast my eyes on those golden swans to my heart's content, of what profit to me is my kingdom or my life?" When the king said this to his minister Sivabhúti, he answered him, "Do not be anxious; there is a means of bringing about what you desire; listen, king; I will tell you what it is. Owing to the various influence of actions in a previous birth, various is this infinite host of sentient beings produced by the Creator in this versatile world. This world is really fraught with woe, but owing to delusion there arises in creatures the fancy that happiness is to be found in it, and they take pleasure in house, and food, and drink, and so become attached to it. And Providence has appointed that different kinds of food, drink, and dwellings, should be agreeable to different creatures, according to the classes to which they respectively belong. So have made, king, a great lake to be the dwelling-place of these swans, covered with various kinds of lotuses, and watched by guards, where they will be free from molestation. And keep always scattering on the bank food of the kind that birds love, in order that water-birds may quickly come there from various quarters. Among them these two golden swans will certainly come; and then you will be able to gaze on them continually: do not be despondent." When king Brahmadatta's minister said this to him, he had that great lake made according to his directions, and it was ready in a moment. The lake was frequented by swans, sárasas and chakravákas, [654] and after a time that couple of swans came there, and settled down on a clump of lotuses in it. Then the guards set to watch the lake came and informed the king of that fact, and he went down to the lake in a state of great delight, considering that his object had been accomplished. And he beheld those golden swans, and worshipped them from a distance, and ministered to their comfort by scattering for them grains of rice dipped in milk. And the king took so much interest in them that he spent his whole time on the bank of that lake watching those swans with their bodies of pure gold, their eyes of pearl, their beaks and feet of coral, and the tips of their wings of emerald, [655] which had come there in perfect confidence. Now, one day, as the king was roaming along the bank of the lake, he saw in one place a pious offering made with unfading flowers. And he said to the guards there, "Who made this offering?" Then the guards of the lake said to the king, "Every day, at dawn, noon, and sunset, these golden swans bathe in the lake, and make these offerings, and stand absorbed in contemplation: so we cannot say, king, what is the meaning of this great wonder." When the king heard this from the guards, he said to himself, "Such a proceeding is quite inconsistent with the nature of swans; surely there must be a reason for this. So, I will perform asceticism until I find out who these swans are." Then the king and his wife and his minister gave up food, and remained performing penance and absorbed in meditation on Siva. And after the king had fasted for twelve days, the two heavenly swans came to him, and said to him in a dream with articulate voice, "Rise up, king; to-morrow we will tell you and your wife and minister, after you have broken your fast, the whole truth of the matter in private." When the swans had said this, they disappeared, and next morning the king and his wife and his minister, as soon as they awoke, rose up, and broke their fast. And after they had eaten, the two swans came to them, as they were sitting in a pleasure-pavilion near the water. The king received them with respect, and said to them, "Tell me who you are." Then they proceeded to tell him their history. How Párvatí condemned her five attendants to be reborn on earth. There is a monarch of mountains famous on the earth under the name of Mandara, in whose groves of gleaming jewels all the gods roam, on whose table-lands, watered with nectar from the churned sea of milk, are to be found flowers, fruits, roots, and water, that are antidotes to old age and death. Its highest peaks, composed of various precious stones, form the pleasure-grounds of Siva, and he loves it more than mount Kailása. There, one day, that god left Párvatí, after he had been diverting himself with her, and disappeared, to execute some business for the gods. Then the goddess, afflicted by his absence, roamed in the various places where he loved to amuse himself, and the other gods did their best to console her. And one day the goddess was much troubled by the advent of spring, and she was sitting surrounded by the Ganas at the foot of a tree, thinking about her beloved, when a noble Gana, named Manipushpesvara, looked lovingly at a young maiden, the daughter of Jayá, called Chandralekhá, who was waving a chowrie over the goddess. He was a match for her in youth and beauty, and she met his glance with a responsive look of love, as he stood by her side. Two other Ganas, named Pingesvara and Guhesvara, when they saw that, interchanged glances, and a smile passed over their faces. And when the goddess saw them smiling, she was angry in her heart, and she cast her eyes hither and thither, to see what they were laughing at in this unseemly manner. And then she saw that Chandralekhá and Manipushpesvara were looking lovingly in one another's faces. Then the goddess, who was quite distracted with the sorrow of separation, was angry, and said, "These young people have done well to look lovingly [656] at one another in the absence of the god, and these two mirthful people have done well to laugh when they saw their glances: so let this lover and maiden, who are blinded with passion, fall into a human birth; and there the disrespectful pair shall be man and wife; but these unseasonable laughers shall endure many miseries on the earth; they shall be first poor Bráhmans, and then [657] Bráhman-Rákshasas, and then Pisáchas, and after that Chandálas, and then robbers, and then bob-tailed dogs, and then they shall be various kinds of birds,--shall these Ganas who offended by laughing; for their minds were unclouded, when they were guilty of this disrespectful conduct. When the goddess had uttered this command, a Gana of the name of Dhúrjata said, "Goddess, this is very unjust; these excellent Ganas do not deserve so severe a curse, for a very small offence." When the goddess heard that, she said in her wrath to Dhúrjata also, "Fall thou also, great sir, that knowest not thy place, into a mortal womb." When the goddess had inflicted these tremendous curses, the female warder Jayá, the mother of Chandralekhá, clung to her feet, and addressed this petition to her, "Withdraw thy anger, goddess; appoint an end to the curse of this daughter of mine, and of these thy own servants, that have through ignorance committed sin." When Párvatí had been thus entreated by her warder Jayá, she said, "When all these, owing to their having obtained insight, shall in course of time meet together, they shall, after visiting Siva the lord of magic powers, in the place [658] where Brahmá and the other gods performed asceticism, return to our court, having been freed from their curse. And this Chandralekhá, and her beloved, and that Dhúrjata shall, all three of them, be happy in their life as mortals, but these two shall be miserable." When the goddess had said this, she ceased; and at that very moment the Asura Andhaka came there, having heard of the absence of Siva. The presumptuous Asura hoped to win the goddess, but having been reproached by her attendants he departed, but he was slain on that account by the god, who discovered the reason of his coming, and pursued him. [659] Then Siva returned home having accomplished his object, and Párvatí delighted told him of the coming of Andhaka, and the god said to her, "I have to-day slain a former mind-born son of thine, named Andhaka, and he shall now be a Bhringin here, as nothing remains of him but skin and bone." When Siva had said this, he remained there diverting himself with the goddess, and Manipushpesvara and the other five descended to earth. "Now, king, hear the long and strange story of these two, Pingesvara and Guhesvara." Story of the metamorphoses of Pingesvara and Guhesvara. There is on the earth a royal grant to Bráhmans, named Yajnasthala. In it there lived a rich [660] and virtuous Bráhman named Yajnasoma. In his middle age he had two sons born to him; the name of the elder was Harisoma and of the younger Devasoma. They passed through the age of childhood, and were invested with the sacred thread, and then the Bráhman their father lost his wealth, and he and his wife died. Then those two wretched sons, bereaved of their father, and without subsistence, having had their grant taken from them by their relations, said to one another, "We are now reduced to living on alms, but we get no alms here. So we had better go to the house of our maternal grandfather, though it is far off. Though we have come down in the world, who on earth would welcome us, if we arrive of our own accord. Nevertheless let us go. What else indeed are we to do, for we have no other resource?" After deliberating to this effect they went, begging their way, by slow stages, to that royal grant, where the house of their grandfather was. There the unfortunate young men found out, by questioning people, that their grandfather, whose name was Somadeva, was dead, and his wife also. Then, begrimed with dust, they entered despairing the house of their maternal uncles named Yajnadeva and Kratudeva. There those good Bráhmans welcomed them kindly, and gave them food and clothing, and they remained engaged in study. But in course of time the wealth of their maternal uncles diminished, and they could keep no servants, and then they came and said to those nephews in the most affectionate way, "Dear boys, we can no longer afford to keep a man to look after our cattle, as we have become poor, so do you look after our cattle for us." When Harisoma and Devasoma's uncles said this to them, their throats were full of tears, but they agreed to their proposal. Then they took the cattle to the forest every day, and looked after them there, and at evening they returned home with them, wearied out. Then, as they went on looking after the cattle, owing to their falling asleep in the day, some animals were stolen, and others were eaten by tigers. That made their uncles very unhappy: and one day a cow and goat intended for sacrifice, belonging to their uncles, both disappeared somewhere or other. Terrified at that, they took the other animals home before the right time, and running off in search of the two that were missing, they entered a distant forest. There they saw their goat half eaten by a tiger, and after lamenting, being quite despondent, they said, "Our uncles were keeping this goat for a sacrifice, and now that it is destroyed, their anger will be something tremendous. So let us dress its flesh with fire, and eat enough of it to put an end to our hunger, and then let us take the rest, and go off somewhere and support ourselves by begging." After these reflections they proceeded to roast the goat, and while they were so engaged, their two uncles arrived, who had been running after them, and saw them cooking the goat. When they saw their uncles in the distance, they were terrified, and they rose up in great trepidation, and fled from the spot. And those two uncles in their wrath pronounced [661] on them the following curse, "Since, in your longing for flesh, you have done a deed worthy of Rákshasas, you shall become flesh-eating Bráhman-Rakshasas." And immediately those two young Bráhmans became Brahman-Rákshasas, having mouths formidable with tusks, flaming hair, and insatiable hunger; and they wandered about in the forest catching animals and eating them. But one day they rushed upon an ascetic, who possessed supernatural power, to slay him, and he in self-defence cursed them, and they became Pisáchas. And in their condition as Pisáchas, they were carrying off the cow of a Bráhman, to kill it, but they were overpowered by his spells, and reduced by his curse to the condition of Chandálas. One day, as they were roaming about in their condition as Chandálas, bow in hand, tormented with hunger, they reached, in their search for food, a village of bandits. The warders of the village, supposing them to be thieves, arrested them both, as soon as they saw them, and cut off their ears and noses. And they bound them, and beat them with sticks, and brought them in this condition before the chiefs of the bandits. There they were questioned by the chiefs, and being bewildered with fear, and tormented with hunger and pain, [662] they related their history to them. Then the chiefs of the gang, moved by pity, set them at liberty, and said to them, "Remain here and take food; do not be terrified. You have arrived here on the eighth day of the month, the day on which we worship Kártikeya, and so you are our guests; and should have a share in our feast." [663] "When the bandits had said this, they worshipped the goddess Durgá, and made the two Chandálas eat in their presence, [664] and having, as it happened, taken a fancy to them, they would not let them out of their sight. Then they lived with those bandits by robbing, and thanks to their courage, became eventually the chiefs of the gang. And one night those chiefs marched with their followers to plunder a large town, a favourite abode of Siva, which some of their spies had selected for attack. Though they saw an evil omen, they did not turn back, and they reached and plundered the whole city and the temple of the god. Then the inhabitants cried to the god for protection, and Siva in his wrath bewildered the bandits by making them blind. And the citizens suddenly perceiving that, and thinking that it was due to the favour of Siva, assembled and smote those bandits with sticks and stones. And Ganas, moving about invisibly, flung some of the bandits into ravines, and dashed others to pieces against the ground. And the people, seeing the two leaders, were about to put them to death, but they immediately turned into bob-tailed dogs. And in this transformation they suddenly remembered their former birth, and danced in front of Siva, and fled to him for protection. When the citizens, Bráhmans, merchants, and all, saw that, they were delighted at being free from fear of robbers, and went laughing to their houses. And then the delusion, that had possessed those two beings now turned into dogs, disappeared, and they awoke to reality, and in order to put an end to their curse, they fasted, and appealed to Siva by severe asceticism. And the next morning, the citizens, making high festival and worshipping Siva, beheld those dogs absorbed in contemplation, and though they offered them food, the creatures would not touch it. And the two dogs remained in this state for several days, beheld by all the world, and then Siva's Ganas preferred this prayer to him, "O god, these two Ganas, Pingesvara and Guhesvara, who were cursed by the goddess, have been afflicted for a long time, so take pity on them." When the holy god heard that, he said, "Let these two Ganas be delivered from their canine condition and became crows!" Then they became crows, and broke their fast upon the rice of the offering, and lived happily, remembering their former state, exclusively devoted to Siva. After some time, Siva having been satisfied by their devotion to him, they became by his command first vultures, and then peacocks; then those noble Ganas, in course of time, became swans; and in that condition also they strove with the utmost devotion to propitiate Siva. And at last they gained the favour of that god by bathing in sacred waters, by performing vows, by meditations, and acts of worship, and they became all composed of gold and jewels, and attained supernatural insight. "Know that we are those very two, Pingesvara and Guhesvara, who by the curse of Párvatí endured a succession of woes, and have now become swans. But the Gana Manipushpesvara, who was in love with the daughter of Jayá, and was cursed by the goddess, has become a king upon earth, even yourself, Brahmadatta. And that daughter of Jayá has been born as this lady, your wife Somaprabhá; and that Dhúrjata has been born as this your minister Sivabhúti. And therefore we, having attained insight, and remembering the end of the curse appointed by Párvatí, appeared to you at night. By means of that artifice we have all been re-united here to-day; and we will bestow on you the perfection of insight. "Come, let us go to that holy place of Siva on the Tridasa mountain, rightly named Siddhísvara, [665] where the gods performed asceticism in order to bring about the destruction of the Asura Vidyuddhvaja. And they slew that Asura in fight, with the help of Muktáphalaketu, the head of all the Vidyádhara princes, who had been obtained by the favour of Siva. And that Muktáphalaketu, having passed through the state of humanity brought upon him by a curse, obtained reunion with Padmávatí by the favour of the same god. Let us go to that holy place, which has such splendid associations connected with it, and there propitiate Siva, and then we will return to our own home, for such was the end of the curse appointed to all of us by the goddess, to take place at the same time." When the two heavenly swans said this to king Brahmadatta, he was at once excited with curiosity to hear the tale of Muktáphalaketu. CHAPTER CXV. Then king Brahmadatta said to those celestial swans, "How did Muktáphalaketu kill that Vidyuddhvaja? And how did he pass through the state of humanity inflicted on him by a curse, and regain Padmávatí? Tell me this first, and afterwards you shall carry out your intentions." When those [666] birds heard this, they began to relate the story of Muktáphalaketu as follows. Story of Muktáphalaketu and Padmávatí. Once on a time there was a king of the Daityas named Vidyutprabhá, hard for gods to conquer. He, desiring a son, went to the bank of the Ganges, and with his wife performed asceticism for a hundred years to propitiate Brahmá. And by the favour of Brahmá, who was pleased with his asceticism, that enemy of the gods obtained a son named Vidyuddhvaja, who was invulnerable at their hands. That son of the king of the Daityas, even when a child, was of great valour; and one day seeing that their town was guarded on all sides by troops, he said to one of his companions, "Tell me, my friend, what have we to be afraid of, that this town is thus guarded on all sides by troops?" Then his companion said to him, "We have an adversary in Indra the king of the gods; and it is on his account that this system of guarding the town is kept up. Ten hundred thousand elephants, and fourteen hundred thousand chariots, and thirty hundred thousand horsemen, and a hundred millions of footmen guard the city in turn for one watch of the night, and the turn of guarding comes round for every division in seven years." When Vidyuddhvaja heard this, he said, "Out on such a throne, that is guarded by the arms of others, and not by its own might! However, I will perform such severe asceticism, as will enable me to conquer my enemy with my own arm, and put an end to all this insolence of his." When Vidyuddhvaja had said this, he put aside that companion of his, who tried to prevent him, and without telling his parents, went to the forest to perform penance. But his parents heard of it, and in their affection for their child, they followed him, and said to him, "Do not act rashly, son; severe asceticism ill befits a child like you. Our throne has been victorious over its enemies; is there one more powerful in the whole world? What do you desire to get by withering yourself in vain? Why do you afflict us?" When Vidyuddhvaja's parents said this to him, he answered them, "I will acquire, even in my childhood, heavenly arms by the force of asceticism; as for our empire over the world being unopposed by enemies, do I not know so much from the fact that our city is guarded by troops ever ready in their harness?" When the Asura Vidyuddhvaja, firm in his resolution, had said so much to his parents, and had sent them away, he performed asceticism to win over Brahmá. He continued for a period of three hundred years living on fruits only, and successively for similar periods living on water, air, and nothing at all. Then Brahmá, seeing that his asceticism was becoming capable of upsetting the system of the world, came to him, and at his request gave him the weapons of Brahmá. He said, "This weapon of Brahmá cannot be repelled by any weapon except the weapon of Pasupati Rudra, which is unattainable by me. So, if you desire victory, you must not employ it unseasonably." When Brahmá had said this, he went away, and that Daitya went home. Then Vidyuddhvaja marched out to conquer his enemies with his father, and with all his forces, who came together to that great feast of war. Indra, the ruler of the gods' world, heard of his coming, and kept guard in heaven, and when he drew near, marched out to meet him, eager for battle, accompanied by his friend Chandraketu, the king of the Vidyádharas, and by the supreme lord of the Gandharvas, named Padmasekhara. Then Vidyuddhvaja appeared, hiding the heaven with his forces, and Rudra and others came there to behold that battle. Then there took place between those two armies a battle, which was involved in darkness [667] by the sun's being eclipsed with the clashing together of missiles; and the sea of war swelled high, lashed by the wind of wrath, with hundreds of chariots for inflowing streams, and rolling horses and elephants for marine monsters. Then single combats took place between the gods and Asuras, and Vidyutprabhá, the father of Vidyuddhvaja, rushed in wrath upon Indra. Indra found himself being gradually worsted by the Daitya in the interchange of missiles; so he flung his thunderbolt at him. And then that Daitya, smitten by the thunderbolt, fell dead. And that enraged Vidyuddhvaja so that he attacked Indra. And, though his life was not in danger, he began by discharging at him the weapon of Brahmá; and other great Asuras struck at him with other weapons. Then Indra called to mind the weapon of Pasupati, presided over by Siva himself, which immediately presented itself in front of him; he worshipped it, and discharged it among his foes. That weapon, which was of the nature of a destroying fire, consumed the army of the Asuras; but Vidyuddhvaja, being a child, only fell senseless when smitten by it; for that weapon does not harm children, old men, or fugitives. Then all the gods returned home victorious. And Vidyuddhvaja, for his part, who had fallen senseless, recovered his senses after a very long time, and fled weeping, and then said to the rest of his soldiers, who had assembled; "In spite of my having acquired the weapon of Brahmá, we were not victorious to-day, though victory was in our grasp; on the contrary we were defeated. So I will go and attack Indra, and lose my life in battle. Now that my father is slain, I shall not be able to return to my own city." When he said this, an old minister of his father's said to him, "The weapon of Brahmá, discharged unseasonably, is too languid to contend with other weapons discharged, for that great weapon was to-day overcome by the weapon of Siva, which will not brook the presence of others. So you ought not unseasonably to challenge your victorious enemy, for in this way you will strengthen him and destroy yourself. The calm and resolute man preserves his own life, and in due time regains might, and takes revenge on his enemy, and so wins a reputation esteemed by the whole world." When that old minister said this to Vidyuddhvaja, he said to him, "Then go you and take care of my kingdom, but I will go and propitiate that supreme lord Siva." When he had said this, he dismissed his followers, though they were loth to leave him, and he went with five young Daityas, companions of equal age, and performed asceticism on the bank of the Ganges, at the foot of mount Kailása. During the summer he stood in the midst of five fires, and during the winter in the water, meditating on Siva; and for a thousand years he lived on fruits only. For a second thousand years he ate only roots, for a third he subsisted on water, for a fourth on air, and during the fifth he took no food at all. Brahmá once more came to grant him a boon, but he did not shew him any respect: on the contrary he said, "Depart, I have tested the efficiency of thy boon." And he remained fasting for another period of equal duration, and then a great volume of smoke rose up from his head; and Siva manifested himself to him, and said to him, "Choose a boon." When thus addressed, that Daitya said to him, "May I, Lord, by thy favour slay Indra in fight!" The god answered, "Rise up! There is no distinction between the slain [668] and the conquered; so thou shalt conquer Indra and dwell in his heaven." When the god had said this, he disappeared, and Vidyuddhvaja, considering that the wish of his heart was attained, broke his fast, and went to his city. There he was welcomed by the citizens, and met by that minister of his father's, who had endured suffering for his sake, and who now made great rejoicing. He then summoned the armies of the Asuras, and made preparation for battle, and sent an ambassador to Indra to warn him to hold himself in readiness for fight. And he marched out, hiding with his banners the sky, which he clove with the thunderous roar of his host, and so he seemed to be fulfilling the wish [669] of the inhabitants of heaven. And Indra, for his part, knowing that he had returned from winning a boon, was troubled, but after taking counsel with the adviser of the gods, [670] he summoned his forces. Then Vidyuddhvaja arrived, and there took place between those two armies a great battle, in which it was difficult to distinguish between friend and foe. Those Daityas, who were headed by Subáhu, fought with the wind-gods, and Pingáksha and his followers with the gods of wealth, and Mahámáya and his forces with the gods of fire, and Ayahkáya and his hosts with the sun-gods, and Akampana and his warriors with the Siddhas; some other Daityas fought with the Vidyádharas, and the rest with the Gandharvas and their allies. So a great battle continued between them for twenty days, and on the twenty-first day the gods were routed in fight by the Asuras. And when routed, they fled, and entered heaven: and then Indra himself issued, mounted on Airávana. And the forces of the gods rallied round him, and marched out again, with the leaders of the Vidyádharas, headed by Chandraketu. Then a desperate fight took place, and Asuras and gods [671] were being slain in great numbers, when Vidyuddhvaja attacked Indra, to revenge the slaughter of his father. The king of the gods cleft over and over again the bow of that chief of the Asuras, who kept repelling his shafts with answering shafts. Then Vidyuddhvaja, elated with the boon of Siva, seized his mace, and rushed furiously on Indra. He leapt up, planting his feet on the tusks of Airávana, and climbed up on his forehead, and killed his driver. And he gave the king of the gods a blow with his mace, and he quickly returned it with a similar weapon. But when Vidyuddhvaja struck him a second time with his mace, Indra fell senseless on to the chariot of the Wind-god. And the Wind-god carried him away in his chariot out of the fight with the speed of thought; and Vidyuddhvaja, who sprang after him, [672] fell on the ground. At that moment a voice came from the air, "This is an evil day, so carry Indra quickly out of the fight." Then the Wind-god carried off Indra at the utmost speed of his chariot, and Vidyuddhvaja pursued them, mounted on his; and in the meanwhile Airávanah, infuriated and unrestrained by the driver's hook, ran after Indra, trampling and scattering the forces. And the army of the gods left the field of battle and followed Indra; and Brihaspati carried off his wife Sachí, who was much alarmed, to the heaven of Brahmá. Then Vidyuddhvaja, having gained the victory, and having found Amarávatí empty, entered it, accompanied by his shouting troops. And Indra, having recovered consciousness, and seeing that it was an evil time, entered that heaven of Brahmá with all the gods. And Brahmá comforted him, saying, "Do not grieve; at present this boon of Siva is predominant; but you will recover your position." And he gave him, to dwell in, a place of his own, furnished with all delights, named Samádhisthala, situated in a region of the world of Brahmá. There the king of the gods dwelt, accompanied by Sachí and Airávana: and by his orders the Vidyádhara kings went to the heaven of the Wind-god. And the lords of the Gandharvas went to the inviolable world of the moon; and others went to other worlds, abandoning severally their own dwellings. And Vidyuddhvaja, having taken possession of the territory of the gods with beat of drum, enjoyed sway over heaven, [673] as an unlimited monarch. At this point of the story, Chandraketu the Vidyádhara king, having remained long in the world of the Wind-god, said to himself, "How long am I to remain here, fallen from my high rank? The asceticism of my enemy Vidyuddhvaja has not even now spent its force; but I have heard that my friend Padmasekhara, the king of the Gandharvas, has gone from the world of the Moon to the city of Siva to perform asceticism. I do not know as yet, whether Siva has bestowed a boon on him, or not; when I have discovered that, I shall know what I myself ought to do." While he was going through these reflections, his friend, the king of the Gandharvas, came towards him, having obtained a boon. That king of the Gandharvas, having been welcomed with an embrace by Chandraketu, and questioned, [674] told him his story, "I went to the city of Siva and propitiated Siva with asceticism; and he said to me, 'Go, thou shalt have a noble son; and thou shalt recover thy kingdom, and obtain a daughter of transcendent beauty, whose husband shall be the heroic slayer of Vidyuddhvaja.' [675] Having received this promise from Siva, I have come here to tell you." When Chandraketu had heard this from the king of the Gandharvas he said, "I too must go and propitiate Siva in order to put an end to this sorrow; without propitiating him we cannot obtain the fulfilment of our desires. "When Chandraketu had formed this resolution, he went with his wife Muktávalí to the heavenly abode of Siva, to perform asceticism. And Padmasekbara told the story of his boon to Indra, and having conceived a hope of the destruction of his enemy, went to the world of the moon. Then that king of the gods in Samádhisthala, having also conceived a hope of the destruction of his enemy, called to mind the counsellor of the immortals. And he appeared as soon as he was thought upon, and the god, bowing before him, and honouring him, said to him, "Siva, pleased with the asceticism of Padmasekhara, has promised that he shall have a son-in-law who shall slay Vidyuddhvaja. So we shall eventually see an end put to his crimes; in the meanwhile I am despondent, dwelling here in misery on account of my having fallen from my high position. So devise, holy sir, some expedient that will operate quickly." When the adviser of the gods heard this speech of Indra's, he said to him; "It is true that that enemy of ours has nearly exhausted his asceticism by his crimes; so now we have an opportunity of exerting ourselves against him. Come, then; let us tell Brahmá; he will point out to us an expedient." When Brihaspati had said this to Indra, he went with him to Brahmá, and after worshipping him, he told him what was in his mind. Then Brahmá said, "Am I not also anxious to bring about the same end? But Siva alone can remove the calamity that he has caused. And that god requires a long propitiation: [676] so let us go to Vishnu, who is like-minded with him; he will devise an expedient." When Brahmá and Indra and Brihaspati had deliberated together to this effect, they ascended a chariot of swans, and went to Svetadvípa; [677] where all the inhabitants carried the conch, discus, lotus, and club, and had four arms, being assimilated to Vishnu in appearance as they were devoted to him in heart. There they saw the god in a palace composed of splendid jewels, reposing on the serpent Sesha, having his feet adored by Lakshmí. After bowing before him, and having been duly welcomed by him, and venerated by the divine sages, they took the seats befitting them. When the holy one asked the gods how they prospered, they humbly said to him, "What prosperity can be ours, O god, as long as Vidyuddhvaja is alive? For you know all that he has done to us, and it is on his account that we have come here now: it now rests with you to determine what further is to be done in this matter." When the gods said this to Vishnu, he answered them, "Why, do I not know that my regulations are broken by that Asura? But what the great lord, the slayer of Tripura has done, he alone can undo: I cannot. And from him must proceed the overthrow of that wicked Daitya. You must make haste, provided I tell you an expedient; and I will tell you one; listen! There is a heavenly abode of Siva, named Siddhísvara. There the god Siva is found ever manifest. And long ago that very god manifested to me and Prajápati [678] his form as the flame-linga, and told me this secret. So come, let us go there and entreat him with asceticism: he will put an end to this affliction of the worlds." When the god Vishnu had uttered this behest, they all went to Siddhísvara by means of two conveyances, the bird Garuda and the chariot of swans. That place is untouched by the calamities of old age, death, and sickness, and it is the home of unalloyed happiness, and in it beasts, birds, and trees are all of gold. There they worshipped the linga of Siva, that exhibits in succession all his forms, [679] and is in succession of various jewels; and then Vishnu, Brahmá, Indra, and Brihaspati, all four, with their minds devoted to Siva, proceeded to perform a severe course of asceticism in order to propitiate him. And in the meanwhile Siva, propitiated by the severe asceticism of Chandraketu, bestowed a boon on that prince of the Vidyádharas, "Rise up, king, a son shall be born to thee, who shall be a great hero, and shall slay in fight thy enemy Vidyuddhvaja; he shall become incarnate among the human race by a curse, and shall render a service to the gods, and shall recover his position by virtue of the asceticism of Padmávatí, the daughter of the king of the Gandharvas: and with her for a wife he shall be emperor over all the Vidyádharas for ten kalpas." [680] When the god had granted this boon, he disappeared, and Chandraketu went back to the world of the Wind-god with his wife. In the meanwhile Siva was pleased with the severe asceticism of Vishnu and his companions in Siddhísvara, and he appeared to them in the linga and delighted them by the following speech, "Rise up, afflict yourselves no longer; I have been fully propitiated with self-torture by your partizan Chandraketu, the prince of the Vidyádharas. And he shall have a heroic son, sprung from a part of me, who shall soon slay in fight that Daitya Vidyuddhvaja. Then, in order that he may perform another service to the gods, he shall fall [681] by a curse into the world of men, and the daughter of the Gandharva Padmasekhara shall deliver him from that condition. And he shall rule the Vidyádharas with that lady, who shall be an incarnation of a portion of Gaurí, and shall be named Padmávatí, for his consort, and at last he shall come to me. So bear up for a little: this desire of yours is already as good as accomplished." "When Siva had said this to Vishnu and his companions, he disappeared; then Vishnu, Brahmá, Indra and Brihaspati went, in high delight, back to the places from which they came. Then Muktávalí the wife of that king of the Vidyádharas, named Chandraketu, became pregnant, and in time she brought forth a son, illuminating the four quarters with his irresistible splendour, [682] like the infant sun arisen to remove the oppression under which those ascetics were groaning. And as soon as he was born this voice was heard from heaven, "Chandraketu, this son of thine shall slay the Asura Vidyuddhvaja, and know that he is to be by name Muktáphalaketu, the terror of his foes." When the voice had said so much to the delighted Chandraketu, it ceased; and a rain of flowers fell; and Padmasekhara, and Indra, hearing what had taken place, came there, and the other gods, who were lurking concealed. Conversing to one another of the story of the boon of Siva, and having rejoiced thereat, they went to their own abodes. And Muktáphalaketu had all the sacraments performed for him, and gradually grew up; and as he grew, the joy of the gods increased. Then, some time after the birth of his son, a daughter was born to Padmasekhara, the supreme lord of the Gandharvas. And when she was born, a voice came from the air, "Prince of the Gandharvas, this daughter of thine Padmávatí shall be the wife of that king of the Vidyádharas who shall be the foe of Vidyuddhvaja." Then that maiden Padmávatí gradually grew up, adorned with an overflowing effulgence of beauty, as if with billowy nectar acquired by her being born in the world of the moon. [683] And that Muktáphalaketu, even when a child, was high-minded, and being always devoted to Siva, he performed asceticism, in the form of vows, fasts, and other penances. And once on a time, when he had fasted twelve days, and was absorbed in meditation, the adorable Siva appeared to him, and said, "I am pleased with this devotion of thine, so by my special favour the weapons, the sciences, and all the accomplishments shall manifest themselves to thee. And receive from me this sword named Invincible, [684] by means of which thou shalt hold sovereign sway, unconquered by thy enemies." When the god had said this, he gave him the sword and disappeared, and that prince at once became possessed of powerful weapons and great strength and courage. Now, one day, about this time, that great Asura Vidyuddhvaja, being established in heaven, was disporting himself in the water of the heavenly Ganges. He saw the water of that stream flowing along brown with the pollen of flowers, and remarked that it was pervaded by the smell of the ichor of elephants, and troubled with waves. Then, puffed up with pride of his mighty arm, he said to his attendants, "Go and see who is disporting himself in the water above me." When the Asuras heard that, they went up the stream, and saw the bull of Siva sporting in the water with the elephant of Indra. And they came back and said to that prince of the Daityas, "King, the bull of Siva has gone higher up the stream, and is amusing himself in the water with Airávana: so this water is full of his garlands and of the ichor of Airávana." When that Asura heard this, he was wroth, in his arrogance making light of Rudra, and infatuated by the full ripening of his own evil deeds he said to his followers, "Go and bring that bull and Airávana here bound." Those Asuras went there, and tried to capture them, and thereupon the bull and elephant ran upon them in wrath and slew most of them. And those who escaped from the slaughter went and told Vidyuddhvaja; and he was angry, and sent a very great force of Asuras against those two animals. And those two trampled to death that army, upon which destruction came as the result of matured crime, and then the bull returned to Siva, and the elephant to Indra. Then Indra heard about that proceeding of the Daitya's from the guards, who followed Airávana to take care of him, and he concluded that the time of his enemy's destruction had arrived, as he had treated with disrespect even the adorable Siva. He told that to Brahmá, and then he united himself with the assembled forces of the gods, and the Vidyádharas, and his other allies; and then he mounted the chief elephant of the gods, and set out to slay that enemy of his; and on his departure Sachí performed for him the usual ceremony to ensure good fortune. CHAPTER CXVI. Then Indra reached heaven and surrounded it with his forces, that were rendered confident by the favour of Siva, and had gained the suitable opportunity and the requisite strength. When Vidyuddhvaja saw that, he marched out with his army ready for battle; but as he marched out evil omens manifested themselves to him; lightning flashes struck his banners, vultures circled above his head, the state-umbrellas were broken, and jackals uttered boding howls. [685] Disregarding these evil omens, nevertheless that Asura sallied forth; and then there took place a mighty battle between the gods and the Asuras. And Indra said to Chandraketu the king of the Vidyádharas, "Why has Muktáphalaketu not yet come?" Then Chandraketu humbly made answer, "When I was marching out I was in such a hurry that I forgot to tell him; but he is sure to hear of it, and will certainly follow me quickly." When the king of the gods heard this, he quickly sent the dexterous charioteer of the Wind-god to bring the noble Muktáphalaketu. And his father Chandraketu sent with Indra's messenger his own warder, with a force and a chariot, to summon him. But Muktáphalaketu, hearing that his father had gone to battle with the Daityas, was eager to set out for that fight with his followers. Then he mounted his elephant of victory, and his mother performed for him the ceremony to ensure good fortune, and he set out from the world of the Wind, bearing the sword of Siva. And when he had set out, a rain of flowers fell on him from heaven, and the gods beat their drums, and favouring breezes blew. And then the hosts of the gods, that had fled and hid themselves out of fear of Vidyuddhvaja, assembled and surrounded him. As he was marching along with that large army, he saw in his way a great temple of Párvatí named Meghavana. His devotion to the goddess would not allow him to pass it without worshipping [686]; so he got down from his elephant, and taking in his hand heavenly flowers, he proceeded to adore the goddess. Now it happened that, at that very time, Padmávatí the daughter of Padmasekhara the king of the Gandharvas, who had now grown up, had taken leave of her mother, who was engaged in austerities to bring good fortune to her husband who had gone to war, and had come, with her attendant ladies, in a chariot, from the world of Indra, to that temple of Gaurí, with the intention of performing asceticism in order to ensure success to her father in battle, and to the bridegroom on whom she had set her heart. On the way one of her ladies said to her, "You have not as yet any chosen lover, who might have gone to the war, and your mother is engaged in asceticism for the well-being of your father; for whose sake, my friend, do you, a maiden, seek to perform asceticism?" When Padmávatí had been thus addressed by her friend on the way, she answered, "My friend, a father is to maidens a divinity procuring all happiness; moreover there has already been chosen for me a bridegroom of unequalled excellence. That Muktáphalaketu, the son who has been born to the Vidyádhara king, in order that he may slay Vidyuddhvaja, has been destined for my husband by Siva. This I heard from the mouth of my father, when questioned by my mother. And that chosen bridegroom of mine has either gone, or certainly is going to battle: so I am about to propitiate with asceticism the holy Gaurí, desiring victory for my future husband [687] as well as for my father." When the princess said this, her attendant lady answered her, "Then this exertion on your part, though directed towards an object still in the future, is right and proper; may your desire be accomplished!" Just as her friend was saying this to her, the princess reached a large and beautiful lake in the neighbourhood of the temple of Gaurí. It was covered all over with bright full-blown golden lotuses, and they seemed as if they were suffused with the beauty flowing forth from the lotus of her face. The Gandharva maiden went down into that lake, and gathered lotuses with which to worship Ambiká, and was preparing to bathe, when two Rákshasís came that way, as all the Rákshasas were rushing to the battle between the gods and Asuras, eager for flesh. They had up-standing hair, yellow as the flames vomited forth from their mouths terrible with tusks, gigantic bodies black as smoke, and pendulous breasts and bellies. The moment that those wanderers of the night saw that Gandharva princess, they swooped down upon her, and seized her, and carried her up towards the heaven. But the deity, that presided over her chariot, impeded the flight of those Rákshasís, and her grieving retinue cried for help; and while this was going on, Muktáphalaketu issued from the temple of the goddess, having performed his worship; and hearing the lamentation, he came in that direction. When the great hero beheld Padmávatí gleaming bright in the grasp of that pair of Rákshasís, looking like a flash of lightning in the midst of a bank of black clouds, he ran forward and delivered her, hurling the Rákshasís senseless to earth by a blow from the flat of his hand. And he looked on that torrent river of the elixir of beauty, adorned with a waist charming with three wave-like wrinkles, who seemed to have been composed by the Creator of the essence of all beauty, when he was full of the wonderful skill he had acquired by forming the nymphs of heaven. And the moment he looked on her, his senses were benumbed by love's opiate, though he was strong of will; and he remained for a moment motionless, as if painted in a picture. And Padmávatí too, now that the alarm caused by the Rákshasís was at an end, at once recovered her spirits, and looked on the prince, who possessed a form that was a feast to the eyes of the world, and who was one fitted to madden womankind, and seemed to have been created by Fate by a blending together in one body of the moon and the god of Love. Then, her face being cast down with shame, she said of her own accord to her friend, "May good luck befall him! I will depart hence, from the presence of a strange man." Even while she was saying this, Muktáphalaketu said to her friend, "What did this young lady say?" And she answered, "This lovely maiden bestowed a blessing on you, the saver of her life, and said to me, "Come, let us depart from the presence of a strange man." When Muktáphalaketu heard this, he said to her with eager excitement, "Who is she? Whose daughter is she? To what man of great merit in a former life is she to be given in marriage? [688]" When he addressed this question to the princess's companion, she answered him, "Fair sir, this my friend is the maiden named Padmávatí, the daughter of Padmasekhara the king of the Gandharvas, and Siva has ordained that her husband is to be Muktáphalaketu, the son of Chandraketu, the darling of the world, the ally of Indra, the destined slayer of Vidyuddhvaja. Because she desires the victory for that future husband of hers and for her father in the battle now at hand, she has come to this temple of Gaurí to perform asceticism." When the followers of Chandraketu's son heard this, they delighted the princess by exclaiming, "Bravo! here is that future husband of yours." Then the princess and her lover had their hearts filled with joy at discovering one another, and they both thought, "It is well that we came here to-day," and they continued casting loving sidelong timid glances at one another; and while they were thus engaged, the sound of drums was heard, and then a host appeared, and a chariot with the wind-god, [689] and the warder of Chandraketu coming quickly. Then the wind-god and the warder respectfully left the chariot, and went up to that Muktáphalaketu, and said to him, "The king of the gods and your father Chandraketu, who are in the field of battle, desire your presence: so ascend this chariot, and come quickly." Then the son of the Vidyádhara king, though fettered by love of Padmávatí, ascended the chariot with them, out of regard for the interests of his superiors. And putting on a heavenly suit of armour [690] sent by Indra, he set out quickly, often turning back his head to look at Padmávatí. And Padmávatí followed with her eyes, as long as he was in sight, that hero, who with one blow from the flat of his hand had slain the two Rákshasís, and with him ever in her thoughts, she bathed and worshipped Siva and Párvatí, and from that time forth kept performing asceticism in that very place, to ensure his success. And Muktáphalaketu, still thinking on his sight of her, which was auspicious and portended victory, reached the place where the battle was going on between the gods and Asuras. And when they saw that hero arrive well-armed and accompanied by a force, all the great Asuras rushed to attack him. But the hero cut their heads to pieces with a rain of arrows, and made with them an offering to the gods of the cardinal points, by way of inaugurating the feast of battle. But Vidyuddhvaja, seeing his army being slain by that Muktáphalaketu, himself rushed in wrath to attack him. And when he smote with arrows that Daitya, as he came on, the whole army of the Asuras rushed upon him from every quarter. When Indra saw that, he at once attacked the army of the Daityas, with the Siddhas, Gandharvas, Vidyádharas, and gods at his back. Then a confused battle arose, with dint of arrow, javelin, lance, mace and axe, costing the lives of countless soldiers; rivers of blood flowed along, with the bodies of elephants and horses for alligators, with the pearls from the heads of elephants [691] for sands, and with the heads of heroes for stones. That feast of battle delighted the flesh-loving demons, who, drunk with blood instead of wine, were dancing with the palpitating trunks. The fortune of victory of the gods and Asuras in that sea of battle, swayed hither and thither from time to time, fluctuating like a tide-wave. And in this way the fight went on for twenty-four days, watched by Siva, Vishnu, and Brahmá, who were present in their chariots. And at the end of the twenty-fifth day a series of single combats was taking place between the principal warriors of both armies along the greater part of the line of fight. And then a duel began between the noble Muktáphalaketu, and Vidyuddhvaja, the former in a chariot, the latter on an elephant. Muktáphalaketu repelled the weapon of darkness with the weapon of the sun, the weapon of cold with the weapon of heat, the rock-weapon with the thunderbolt-weapon, the serpent-weapon with the weapon of Garuda, and then he slew the elephant-driver of that Asura with one arrow, and his elephant with another. Then Vidyuddhvaja mounted a chariot, and Muktáphalaketu killed the charioteer and the horses. Then Vidyuddhvaja took refuge in magic. He ascended into the sky invisible with his whole army, and rained stones and weapons on all sides of the army of the gods. And as for the impenetrable net of arrows which Muktáphalaketu threw around it, that Daitya consumed it with showers of fire. Then Muktáphalaketu sent against that enemy and his followers the weapon of Brahmá, which was capable of destroying the whole world, after he had pronounced over it the appropriate spells. That weapon killed the great Asura Vidyuddhvaja and his army, and they fell down dead from the sky. And the rest, namely, Vidyuddhvaja's son and his followers, and Vajradanshtra and his crew fled in fear to the bottom of Rasátala. [692] And then the gods from heaven exclaimed, "Bravo! Bravo!" and they honoured the noble Muktáphalaketu with a rain of flowers. Then Indra, having recovered his sway, as his enemy was slain, entered heaven, and there was great rejoicing in the three worlds. And Prajápati [693] himself came there, making Sachí precede him, and fastened a splendid crest-jewel on the head of Muktáphalaketu. And Indra took the chain from his own neck, and placed it on the neck of that victorious prince, who had restored his kingdom to him. And he made him sit on a throne equal in all respects to his own; and the gods, full [694] of joy, bestowed upon him various blessings. And Indra sent on his warder to the city of the Asura Vidyuddhvaja, and took possession of it in addition to his own city, with the intention of bestowing it on Muktáphalaketu, when a fitting time presented itself. Then the Gandharva Padmasekhara, wishing to bestow Padmávatí on that prince, looked meaningly at the face of the Disposer. And the Disposer, knowing what was in his heart, said to that prince of the Gandharvas, "There is still a service remaining to be done, so wait a little." Then there took place the triumphal feast of Indra, with the songs of Háhá and Húhú, and the dances of Rambhá and others, which they accompanied with their own voices. And when the Disposer had witnessed the festive rejoicing, he departed, and Indra honoured the Lokapálas and dismissed them to their several stations. [695] And after honouring that Gandharva monarch Padmasekhara and his train, he dismissed them to their own Gandharva city. And Indra, after treating with the utmost respect the noble Muktáphalaketu and Chandraketu, sent them to their own Vidyádhara city to enjoy themselves. And then Muktáphalaketu, having destroyed the plague of the universe, returned to his palace, accompanied by his father, and followed by many Vidyádhara kings. And on account of the prince having returned victorious with his father, after a long absence, that city displayed its joy, being adorned with splendid jewels, and garlanded with flags. And his father Chandraketu at once bestowed gifts on all his servants and relations, and kept high festival in the city for the triumph of his son, showering wealth on it, as a cloud showers water. But Muktáphalaketu, though he had gained glory by conquering Vidyuddhvaja, derived no satisfaction from his enjoyments without Padmávatí. However, being comforted in soul by a friend named Samyata, who reminded him of the decree of Siva, and consoling topics of that kind, he managed, though with difficulty, to get through those days. CHAPTER CXVII. In the meanwhile, that king of the Gandharvas, Padmasekhara, re-entered his city, celebrating a splendid triumph; and hearing from his wife that his daughter Padmávatí had performed asceticism in the temple of Gaurí, to procure for him victory, he summoned her. And when his daughter came, emaciated with asceticism and separation from her lover, and fell at his feet, he gave her his blessing, and said to her, "Dear girl, for my sake you have endured great hardship in the form of penance, so obtain quickly for a husband the noble Muktáphalaketu, the son of the king of the Vidyádharas, the slayer of Vidyuddhvaja, the victorious protector of the world, who has been appointed to marry you by Siva himself." When her father said this to her, she remained with face fixed on the ground, and then her mother Kuvalayávali said to him, "How, my husband, was so terrible an Asura, that filled the three worlds with consternation, slain by that prince in fight?" When the king heard that, he described to her the valour of that prince, and the battle between the gods and Asuras. Then Padmávatí's companion, whose name was Manoháriká, described the easy manner in which he slew the two Rákshasís. Then the king and queen, finding out that he and their daughter had met and fallen in love, were pleased, and said, "What could those Rákshasís do against one, who swallowed the whole army of the Asuras, as Agastya swallowed the sea?" Then the fire of Padmávatí's love blazed up more violently, being fanned by this description of her lover's surpassing courage, as by a breeze. Then the princess left her parents' presence, and immediately ascended in eager longing a jewelled terrace in the women's apartments, which had pillars of precious stone standing in it, and lattices of pearl fastened to them, and had placed on its pavement, of costly mosaic, luxurious couches and splendid thrones, and was rendered still more delightful by means of the various enjoyments which there presented themselves as soon as thought of. Even when there, she was exceedingly tortured with the fire of separation. And she saw from the top of this terrace a magnificent heavenly garden, planted with trees and creepers of gold, and full of hundreds of tanks adorned with costly stone. And when she saw it, she said to herself, "Wonderful! This splendid city of ours is more beautiful even than the world of the moon in which I was born. And yet I have not explored this city which is the very crest-jewel of the Himálayas, in which there is such a splendid suburban garden excelling Nandana. So I will go into this lovely shrubbery, cool with the shade of trees, and alleviate a little the scorching of the fires of separation." After the young maiden had gone through these reflections, she dexterously managed to descend slowly from the terrace alone, and prepared to go to that city garden. And as she could not go on foot, she was carried there by some birds that were brought to her by her power, and served as her conveyance. When she reached the garden, she sat in an arbour formed of plantains growing together, on a carpet of flowers, with heavenly singing and music sounding in her ears. And even there she did not obtain relief, and her passion did not abate; on the contrary, the fire of her love increased still more, as she was separated from her beloved. Then in her longing she was eager to behold that loved one, though only in a picture, so by her magic power she summoned for herself a tablet for painting and colour-pencils. And she said to herself, "Considering even the Disposer is unable to create a second like my beloved, how can I, reed [696] in hand, produce a worthy likeness of him? Nevertheless, I will paint him as well as I can for my own consolation." After going through these reflections she proceeded to paint him on a tablet, and while she was thus engaged, her confidante Manoháriká, who had been troubled at not seeing her, came to that place to look for her. She stood behind the princess, and saw her languishing alone in the bower of creepers, with her painting-tablet in her hand. She said to herself, "I will just see now what the princess is doing here alone." So the princess's confidante remained there concealed. And then Padmávatí, with her lotus-like eyes gushing with tears, began to address in the following words her beloved in the painting. "When thou didst slay the formidable Asuras and deliver Indra, how comes it that thou dost not deliver me from my woe, though near me, by speaking to me at any rate? To one whose merits in a former life are small, even a wishing-tree is ungenerous, even Buddha is wanting in compassion, and even gold becomes a stone. Thou knowest not the fever of love, and canst not comprehend my pain; what could the poor archer Love, whose arrows are but flowers, do against one whom the Daityas found invincible? But what am I saying? Truly Fate is adverse to me, for Fate stops my eyes with tears, and will not allow me to behold thee for long together, even in a picture." When the princess had said this, she began to weep with teardrops that were so large that it appeared as if her necklace were broken, and great pearls were falling from it. At that moment her friend Manoháriká advanced towards her, and the princess concealed the picture and said to her, "My friend, I have not seen you for ever so long; where have you been?" When Manoháriká heard this, she laughed and said, "I have been wandering about, my friend, for a long time to look for you; so, why do you hide the picture? I saw a moment ago a wonderful picture." [697] When Padmávatí's friend said this to her, she seized her hand, and said to her with a face cast down from shame, and a voice choked with tears, "My friend, you knew it all long ago; why should I try to conceal it? [698] The fact is, that prince, though on that occasion, in the sacred enclosure of Gaurí, he delivered me from the terrible fire of the Rákshasí's wrath, plunged me nevertheless in the fire of love, with its intolerable flame of separation. So I do not know, where to go, whom to speak to, what to do, or what expedient I must have recourse to, since my heart is fixed on one hard to obtain." When the princess said this, her friend answered her, "My dear, this attachment of your mind is quite becoming and suitable; your union would certainly be to the enhancement of one another's beauty, as the union of the digit of the new moon with the hair of Siva matted into the form of a diadem. And do not be despondent about this matter: of a truth he will not be able to live without you; did you not see that he was affected in the same way as yourself? Even women, who see you, [699] are so much in love with your beauty that they desire to become men; so what man would not be a suitor for your hand? Much more will he be, who is equal to you in beauty. Do you suppose that Siva, who declared that you should be man and wife, can say what is false? However, what afflicted one feels quite patient about an object much desired, even though it is soon to be attained? So cheer up! He will soon become your husband. It is not hard for you to win any husband, but all men must feel that you are a prize hard to win." When the princess's attendant said this to her, she answered her, "My friend, though I know all this, what am I to do? My heart cannot endure to remain for a moment without that lord of my life, to whom it is devoted, and Cupid will not bear to be trifled with any further. For when I think of him, my mind is immediately refreshed, [700] but my limbs burn, and my breath seems to leave my body with glowing heat." Even as the princess was saying this, she, being soft as a flower, fell fainting with distraction into the arms of that friend of hers. Then her weeping friend gradually brought her round by sprinkling her with water and fanning her with plantain-leaves. Her friend employed with her the usual remedies of a necklace and bracelet of lotus-fibres, a moist anointing with sandal-wood unguent, and a bed of lotus-leaves; but these contracted heat by coming in contact with her body, and seemed by their heating and withering to feel the same pain as she felt. Then Padmávatí, in her agitation, said to that friend, "Why do you weary yourself in vain? My suffering cannot be alleviated in this way. It would be a happy thing, if you would take the only step likely to alleviate it." When she said this in her pain, her friend answered her, "What would not I do for your sake? Tell me, my friend, what that step is." When the princess heard this, she said with difficulty, as if ashamed, "Go, my dear friend, and bring my beloved here quickly; for in no other way can my suffering be allayed, and my father will not be angry; on the contrary, as soon as he comes here, he will give me to him." When her friend heard that, she said to her in a tone of decision, "If it be so, recover your self-command. This is but a little matter. Here am I, my friend, setting out for Chandrapura the famous and splendid city of Chandraketu the king of the Vidyádharas, the father of your beloved, to bring your beloved to you. Be comforted! What is the use of grief?" When the princess had been thus comforted by Manoháriká, she said, "Then rise up, my friend, may your journey be prosperous! Go at once! And you must say courteously from me to that heroic lord of my life, who delivered the three worlds, 'When you delivered me so triumphantly in that temple of Gaurí from the danger of the Rákshasís, how is that you do not deliver me now, when I am being slain by the god Cupid, the destroyer of women? Tell me, my lord, what kind of virtue is this in persons like yourself able to deliver the worlds--to neglect in calamity one whom you formerly saved, though she is devoted to you.' [701] This is what you must say, auspicious one, or something to this effect as your own wisdom may direct." When Padmávatí had said this, she sent that friend on her errand. And she mounted a bird which her magic knowledge brought to her, to carry her, and set out for that city of the Vidyádharas. And then Padmávatí, having to a certain extent recovered her spirits by hope, took the painting-tablet, and entered the palace of her father. There she went into her own apartment surrounded by her servants, and bathed and worshipped Siva with intense devotion, and thus prayed to him, "Holy one, without thy favouring consent no wish, great or small, is fulfilled for any one in these three worlds. So if thou wilt not give me for a husband that noble son of the emperor of the Vidyádharas, on whom I have set my heart, I will abandon my body in front of thy image." When she addressed this prayer to Siva, her attendants were filled with grief and astonishment, and said to her, "Why do you speak thus, princess, regardless of your body's weal? Is there anything in these three worlds difficult for you to obtain? Even Buddha would forget his self-restraint, if loved by you. So he must be a man of exceptional merit, whom you thus love." When the princess heard this, carried away by the thought of his virtues, she said, "How can I help loving him, who is the only refuge of Indra and the rest of the gods, who alone destroyed the army of the Asuras, as the sun destroys the darkness, and who saved my life?" Saying such things, she remained there full of longing, engaged in conversation about her beloved with her confidential attendants. In the meanwhile her friend Manoháriká, travelling at full speed, reached Chandrapura, that city of the king of the Vidyádharas; which Visvakarman made wonderful, and of unparalleled magnificence, as if dissatisfied with the city of the gods, though of that also he was the architect. There she searched for Muktáphalaketu, but could not find him, and then, riding on her bird, she went to the garden belonging to that city. She derived much pleasure from looking at that garden, the magic splendour of which was inconceivable; the trees of which were of glittering jewels, and had this peculiarity that one tree produced a great many flowers of different kinds; which was rendered charming by the blending of the notes of various birds with the sound of heavenly songs; and which was full of many slabs of precious stone. And then, various gardeners, in the form of birds, saw her, and came up to her, speaking with articulate voice, and addressing her kindly, and they invited her to sit down on a slab of emerald at the foot of a párijáta-tree, and when she was seated, served her with appropriate luxuries. And she received that attention gratefully, and said to herself, "Wonderful are the magic splendours of the princes of the Vidyádharas, since they possess such a garden in which enjoyments present themselves unlooked for, in which the servants are birds, and the nymphs of heaven keep up a perpetual concert." When she had said this to herself, she questioned those attendants, and at last, searching about, she found a thicket of párijáta and other trees of the kind, and in it she saw Muktáphalaketu appearing to be ill, [702] lying on a bed of flowers sprinkled with sandal-wood juice. And she recognized him, as she had become acquainted with him in the hermitage of Gaurí, and she said to herself, "Let me see what his illness is, that he is lying here concealed." In the meanwhile Muktáphalaketu began to say to his friend Samyataka, who was attempting to restore him with ice, and sandal-wood, and fanning, "Surely this god of love has placed hot coals in the ice for me, and in the sandal-wood juice a flame of chaff, and in the air of the fan a fire as of a burning forest, since he produces a scorching glow on every side of me, who am tortured with separation. So why, my friend, do you weary yourself in vain? In this garden, which surpasses Nandana, even the delightful songs and dances and other sports of heavenly nymphs afflict my soul. And without Padmávatí, the lotus-faced, the daughter of Padmasekhara, this fever produced by the arrows of love cannot be alleviated. But I do not dare to say this, and I do not find a refuge in any one; indeed I know only of one expedient for obtaining her. I will go to the temple of Gaurí, where I saw my beloved, and where she tore out my heart with the arrows of her sidelong glances, and carried it away. There Siva, who is united with the daughter of the king of mountains, will, when propitiated with penance, shew me how to become united with my beloved." When the prince had said this, he was preparing to rise up, and then Manoháriká, being much pleased, shewed herself; and Samyataka, delighted, said to that prince, "My friend, you are in luck; your desire is accomplished. Look! here is that beloved's female attendant come to you. I beheld her at the side of the princess in the hermitage of the goddess Ambiká." Then the prince, beholding the friend of his beloved, was in a strange state, a state full of the bursting forth of joy, astonishment, and longing. And when she came near him, a rain of nectar to his eyes, he made her sit by his side, and asked her about the health of his beloved. Then she gave him this answer, "No doubt my friend will be well enough, when you become her husband; but at present she is afflicted. For ever since she saw you, and you robbed her of her heart, she has been despondent, and neither hears nor sees. The maiden has left off her necklace, and wears a chain of lotus-fibres; and has abandoned her couch, and rolls on a bed of lotus-leaves. Best of conquerors, I tell you, her limbs, now white with the sandal-wood juice which is drying up with their heat, seem laughingly [703] to say, 'That very maiden, who formerly was too bashful to endure the mention of a lover [704], is now reduced to this sad condition by being separated from her dear one.' And she sends you this message." Having said so much, Manoháriká recited the two verses which Padmávatí had put into her mouth. When Muktáphalaketu heard all that, his pain departed, and he joyfully welcomed Manoháriká, and said to her, "This my mind has been irrigated by your speech, as by nectar, and is refreshed; and I have recovered my spirits, and got rid of my languor: my good deeds in a former life have to-day borne fruit, in that that daughter of the Gandharva king is so well-disposed towards me. But, though I might possibly be able to endure the agony of separation, how could that lady, whose body is as delicate as a sirísha-flower, endure it? So I will go to that very hermitage of Gaurí; and do you bring your friend there, in order that we may meet at once. And go quickly, auspicious one, and comfort your friend, and give her this crest-jewel, which puts a stop to all grief, which the Self-existent gave me, when pleased with me. And this necklace, which Indra gave me, is a present for yourself." When the prince had said this, he gave her the crest-jewel from his head, and he took the necklace from his neck, and put it on hers. Then Manoháriká was delighted, and she bowed before him, and set out, mounted on her bird, to find her friend Padmávatí. And Muktáphalaketu, his languor having been removed by delight, quickly entered his own city with Samyataka. And Manoháriká, when she came into the presence of Padmávatí, told her of the love-pain of her beloved, as she had witnessed it, and repeated to her his speech, sweet and tender with affection, as she had heard it; and told her of the arrangement to meet her in the hermitage of Gaurí, which he had made, and then gave her the crest-jewel which he had sent, and shewed her the chain which he had given herself as a present. Then Padmávatí embraced and honoured that friend of hers who had been so successful; and forgot that pain of the fire of love which had tortured her before, and she fastened that crest-jewel on her head, as if it were joy, and began to prepare to go to the wood of Gaurí. In the meanwhile it happened that a hermit, of the name of Tapodhana, came to that grove of Gaurí, with his pupil, named Dridhavrata. And while there, the hermit said to his pupil Dridhavrata, "I will engage in contemplation for a time in this heavenly garden. You must remain at the gate, and not let any one in, and after I have finished my contemplation, I will worship Párvatí." When the hermit had said this, he placed that pupil at the gate of the garden, and began to engage in contemplation under a párijáta-tree. After he rose up from his contemplation, he went into the temple to worship Ambiká, but he did not tell his pupil, who was at the gate of the garden. And in the meanwhile Muktáphalaketu came there adorned, with Samyataka, mounted on a heavenly camel. And as he was about to enter that garden, that pupil of the hermit forbade him, saying, "Do not do so! My spiritual superior is engaged in contemplation within." But the prince, longing to see his beloved, said to himself, "The area of this garden is extensive, and it is possible that she may have arrived and may be somewhere within it, whereas the hermit is only in one corner of it." So he got out of sight of that hermit's pupil, and with his friend entered the garden by flying through the air. And while he was looking about, the hermit's pupil came in to see if his spiritual superior had completed his meditation. He could not see his superior there, but he did see the noble Muktáphalaketu with his friend, who had entered the garden by a way by which it was not meant to be entered. Then that pupil of the hermit cursed the prince in his anger, saying to him, "As you have interrupted the meditation of my spiritual guide, and driven him away, go with your friend to the world of men on account of this disrespect." After he had pronounced this curse, he went in search of his superior. But Muktáphalaketu was thrown into great despondency by this curse having fallen on him like a thunderbolt, when his desire was on the point of being fulfilled. And in the meanwhile, Padmávatí, eager to meet her beloved, came mounted on a bird, with Manoháriká and her other attendants. And when the prince saw that lady, who had come to meet him of her own accord, but was now separated from him by a curse, he was reduced to a painful frame of mind in which sorrow and joy were blended. And at that very moment Padmávatí's right eye throbbed, boding evil fortune, and her heart fluttered. Then the princess, seeing that her lover was despondent, thought that he might be annoyed because she had not come before he did, and approached him with an affectionate manner. Then the prince said to her, "My beloved, our desire, though on the point of fulfilment, has been again baffled by Fate." She said excitedly, "Alas! how baffled?" And then the prince told her how the curse was pronounced on him. Then they all went, in their despondency, to entreat the hermit, who was the spiritual guide of him who inflicted the curse, and was now in the temple of the goddess, to fix an end to the curse. When the great hermit, who possessed supernatural insight, saw them approach in humble guise, he said with a kind manner to Muktáphalaketu, "You have been cursed by this fool who acted rashly before he had reflected; [705] however you have not done me any harm, since I rose up of myself. And this curse can only be an instrument, not the real reason of your change; in truth you have in your mortal condition to do the gods a service. You shall come in the course of destiny to behold this Padmávatí, and sick with love, you shall abandon your mortal body, and be quickly released from your curse. And you shall recover this lady of your life, wearing the same body that she wears now; for being a deliverer of the universe, you do not deserve to lie long under a curse. And the cause of all this that has befallen you is the slight stain of unrighteousness which attaches to you, on account of your having slain with that weapon of Brahmá, which you employed, old men and children." When Padmávatí heard this, she said, with tears in her eyes, to that sage, "Holy Sir, let me now have the same lot as my future husband! I shall not be able to live for a moment without him." When Padmávatí made this request, the hermit said to her, "This cannot be: do you remain here for the present engaged in asceticism, in order that he may be quickly delivered from his curse, and may marry you. And then, as the consort of that Muktáphalaketu, you shall rule the Vidyádharas and Asuras for ten kalpas. And while you are performing asceticism, this crest-jewel, which be gave you, shall protect you; for it is of great efficacy, having sprung from the water-pot of the Disposer." When the hermit, possessing divine insight, had said this to Padmávatí, Muktáphalaketu, bending low, addressed this prayer to him, "Holy Sir, may my faith in Siva be unwavering during my life as a man, and may my mind never be inclined to any lady but Padmávatí." The hermit replied, "So let it be!" and then Padmávatí, sorely grieved, pronounced on that pupil, whose fault had entailed these misfortunes, the following curse, "Since you cursed in your folly my destined husband, you shall be a vehicle for him to ride on in his human condition, possessing the property of going with a wish and changing your shape at will." When the pupil had been thus cursed, he was despondent, and then the hermit Tapodhana disappeared with him. Then Muktáphalaketu said to Padmávatí, "I will now go to my city, and see what will happen to me there." When Padmávatí heard this, being terrified at separation, she at once fell on the earth with all her ornaments, as a creeper, broken by the wind, falls with all its flowers. And Muktáphalaketu comforted, as well as he could, his crying love, and departed with his friend, frequently turning round his eyes to look at her. And after he was gone, Padmávatí was much grieved, and weeping, said to her friend Manoháriká, who tried to comfort her, "My friend, I am certain that I saw the goddess Párvatí to-day in a dream, and she was about to throw a garland of lotuses round my neck, when she said, 'Never mind! I will give it you on some future occasion,' and desisted from her intention. So I understand that she wished in this way to let me know that my union with my beloved would be hindered." When she was mourning in this way over what had occurred, her friend said to her, "This dream was no doubt sent to you when you say, by the goddess, in order to comfort you. And the hermit said the very same to you, and the gods have clearly thus ordained: so, be of good cheer, you will soon be reunited with your beloved." This and other speeches from her friend, and the magic efficacy of the crest-jewel made Padmávatí recover her self-command, and she remained there in the hermitage of Gaurí. And she performed asceticism, worshipping there Siva and Párvatí, three times a day, and also the picture of her beloved, which she had brought from her own city, looking upon it as the image of a divinity. Her parents, hearing what had taken place, came to her in tears, and tried to prevent her, saying, "Do not uselessly fatigue yourself with penance, to bring about a desired end, which will anyhow take place." But she said to them, "How could I live here with any comfort, now that the husband recently appointed for me by the god has fallen into misery owing to a curse? For to ladies of good family a husband is a god. And no doubt, this calamity may soon be brought to an end by austerities, and Siva may be propitiated, and then I may be reunited with my beloved, for there is nothing [706] that austerities cannot accomplish." When Padmávatí had said this with firm resolution, her mother Kuvalayávalí said to her father the king, "King, let her perform this severe asceticism! Why trouble her further on false grounds? This is appointed for her by destiny: there is a reason for it; listen. Long ago, in the city of Siva, the daughter of the king of the Siddhas, named Devaprabhá, was performing a very severe penance, in order to obtain the husband she desired. Now my daughter Padmávatí had gone there with me to visit the shrine of the god, and she went up to the Siddha maiden and laughed at her, saying, 'Are you not ashamed to practise austerities in order to obtain a husband?' Then the Siddha maiden cursed her in her rage, saying, 'Fool! your laughter proceeds from childishness: you also shall perform painful austerities to your heart's content to obtain a husband.' Accordingly she must of necessity endure the misery which the curse of the Siddha maiden has entailed; who can alter that? So let her do what she is doing?" When the queen had said this to the king of the Gandharvas, he took leave at last, though reluctantly, of his daughter, who bowed at his feet, and went to his own city. And Padmávatí remained in that hermitage of Párvatí, intent on religious observances and prayers, and every day she went through the air and worshipped that Siddhísvara, that was worshipped by Brahmá and the other gods, of which Siva had told her in a dream. CHAPTER CXVIII. While Padmávatí was engaged in asceticism, in order that she might be reunited to Muktáphalaketu, the son of the emperor of the Vidyádharas, that prince, feeling that his descent into the world of men was nigh at hand owing to the curse of the Bráhman, in his fear, fled to Siva as a refuge. And while he was worshipping Siva, he heard a voice issue from the inner cell of his temple, "Fear not, for thou shalt not have to endure misery while dwelling in the womb, and thou shalt not have to suffer during thy life as a mortal, nor shalt thou long remain in that condition. [707] Thou shalt be born as a strong and valorous prince. Thou shalt obtain from the hermit Tapodhana the control of all weapons, and my Gana named Kinkara shall be thy younger brother. With his help thou shalt conquer thy enemies, and accomplish the required service for the gods, and thou shalt be reunited with Padmávatí and rule the Vidyádharas." When that prince had heard this voice, he conceived hope, and remained waiting for the ripening, so to speak, of the fruit of the curse pronounced upon him. At this point of my story there was a city in the eastern region named Devasabha, that surpassed in splendour the court of the gods. In it there lived a universal monarch named Merudhvaja, the comrade of Indra when war arose between the gods and Asuras. That great-hearted prince was greedy of glory, not of the goods of others; his sword was sharp, but not his punishments; he feared sin, but not his enemy. His brows were sometimes curved in anger, but there was no crookedness in his heart. His arm was hard, where it was marked with the horny thickening produced by the bowstring, but there was no hardness in his speech. He spared his helpless enemies in battle, but he did not exhibit any mean parsimony with regard to his treasure; [708] and he took pleasure in virtuous deeds and not in women. That king had always two anxieties in his heart, the first was that not even one son was as yet born to him, the second was that the Asuras, who escaped from the slaughter in the great fight long ago between the gods and Asuras, and fled to Pátála, kept continually sallying out to a distance from it, and treacherously destroying holy places, temples, and hermitages in his land, and then retiring into Pátála again; and the king could not catch them, as they could move through the air as well as through Pátála; that afflicted the brave monarch, though he had no rivals upon earth. It happened that once, when he was afflicted with these anxieties, he went to the assembly of the gods, on the day of the full moon in the month Chaitra, in Indra's splendid chariot, which he sent to fetch him; for Indra always held a general assembly in the early part of that day, and king Merudhvaja always went to it in his chariot. But on that occasion the king kept sighing, though he was amused with the dances and songs of the heavenly nymphs, and honoured by Indra. When the king of the gods saw that, knowing what was in his heart, he said to him, "King, I know what thy grief is; dismiss it from thy mind. One son shall be born to thee, who shall be called Muktáphaladhvaja, and shall be a portion of Siva, and a second named Malayadhvaja, who shall be an incarnation of a Gana. Muktáphaladhvaja and his younger brother shall obtain from the hermit Tapodhana the sciences and all weapons and a creature to ride on, that shall possess the power of assuming any shape. And that invincible warrior shall again obtain the great weapon of Pasupati, and shall slay the Asuras, and get into his power the earth and Pátála. And receive from me these two air-going elephants Kánchanagiri and Kánchanasekhara, together with mighty weapons." When Indra had said this to Merudhvaja, he gave him the arms and the elephants, and dismissed him, and he went delighted to his own city on the earth. But those Asuras, who had managed by their treachery to cast discredit upon the king, escaped being caught by him, even when mounted on the sky-going elephant, for they took refuge in Pátála. Then the king, desiring a son, went, on his heavenly elephant, to the hermitage of that hermit Tapodhana, of whom Indra had told him. There he approached that hermit, and told him that command of Indra, and said to him, "Reverend Sir, quickly tell me what course I ought to take to gain my end." And the hermit recommended that the king and his wife should immediately take upon them a vow for the propitiation of Siva, in order that they might attain their end. The king then proceeded to propitiate Siva with that vow, and then that god, being pleased, said to the king in a dream, "Rise up, king, thou shalt soon [709] obtain one after another two invincible sons for the destruction of the Asuras." When the king had heard this, he told it to the hermit when he woke up in the morning, and after he and his wife had broken their fast, he returned to his own city. Then that august and beautiful lady, the queen of Merudhvaja, became pregnant within a few days. And Muktáphalaketu was in some mysterious way conceived in her, having been compelled by the curse to abandon his Vidyádhara body. And that body of his remained in his own city of Chandrapura, guarded by his relations, kept by magic from corrupting. So the queen of king Merudhvaja, in the city of Devasabha, delighted her husband by becoming pregnant. And the more the queen was oppressed by her condition, the more sprightly was her husband the king. And when the time came, she gave birth to a boy resembling the sun, who, though an infant, was of great might, even as Párvatí gave birth to the god of war. And then not only did rejoicing take place over the whole earth, but in the heaven also in which the gods struck their drums. And the hermit Tapodhana, who possessed heavenly insight, came there in person, to congratulate that king Merudhvaja. With the help of that hermit, the rejoicing king gave his son the name Muktáphaladhvaja mentioned by Indra. Then the hermit departed; but after the lapse of a year a second son was born to the king by that queen, and the king, with the help of that hermit, who, in the same way, came there out of joy, named him Malayadhvaja. Then Samyataka was born as the son of the king's minister in accordance with the curse, and his father gave him the name of Mahábuddhi. Then those two princes gradually grew up, like lions' whelps, with that minister's son, and as they grew, their might developed also. And after eight years only had passed, the hermit Tapodhana came and invested those princes with the sacred thread. And during eight more years he instructed them [710] in knowledge, and in the accomplishments, and in the use of all the mighty weapons. Then king Merudhvaja, seeing that his sons were young men, able to fight with all weapons, considered that he had not lived in vain. Then the hermit was about to return to his hermitage, but the king said to him, "Reverend Sir, now take whatever present you desire." The great sage answered, "This is the present I desire from you, king, that, with your sons, you would slay the Asuras that impede my sacrifices. The king said to him, "Then, reverend sir, you must now take your present; so begin a sacrifice; the Asuras will come to impede it, and then I will come with my sons. For formerly those Daityas, after they had treacherously wrought you wrong, used to fly up into the air, and dive into the sea, and go to Pátála. But now I have two air-going elephants given me by Indra, by means of those two I and my sons will catch them, even if they do fly through the air." When the hermit heard that, he was pleased and he said to the king, "Then do you make in the mean time fit preparation for my sacrifice, in order that I may go and begin a long sacrificial session that will be famous in every corner of the earth. And I will send you, as a messenger, this my pupil Dridhavrata, who has acquired the shape of an unrestrained mighty bird going with a wish; and on him shall Muktáphaladhvaja ride." When the hermit had said this, he returned to his hermitage, and the king sent after him the preparations for the sacrifice. With those he began a sacrifice, at which the gods and rishis assembled in a body, and the Dánavas, dwelling in Pátála, were excited when they heard of it. When the hermit knew that, he sent his pupil Dridhavrata, who had been made by the curse to assume the form of a bird, to the city of Devasabha. When king Merudhvaja saw him arrive there, he remembered the words of the hermit, and got ready those two heavenly elephants. And he himself mounted the chief one, which was named Kánchanagiri, and the lesser one, which was named Kánchanasekhara, he gave to the younger of his sons. But Muktáphaladhvaja, taking with him the heavenly weapons, mounted the great bird Dridhavrata, and the bards hailed him with songs. Then those three heroes sent their armies on in front, and set forth, mounted on air-going steeds, and blessed by holy Bráhmans. And when they reached the hermitage, the hermit, being pleased with them, granted them this boon, that they should be invulnerable by all weapons. In the meanwhile the army of the Asuras came to impede the sacrifice, and the soldiers of Merudhvaja, when they saw the Asuras, charged them with a shout. Then a battle took place between the Daityas and the men, but the Daityas, being in the air, pressed sore the men who were on the ground. Then Muktáphaladhvaja, mounted on his winged steed, rushed forward, and cut and crushed the Daityas with a shower of arrows. And those Daityas who escaped his destroying hand, seeing him mounted on a bird, and resplendent with brightness, took to flight, supposing that he was Náráyana. And all of them fled in fear to Pátála, and told what had happened to Trailokyamálin, who was at that time king of the Daityas. When the king of the Asuras heard that, he quickly enquired into the matter by means of his spies, and found out that Muktáphaladhvaja was a mortal; and unable to endure the disgrace of having been defeated by a man, he collected all the Dánavas in Pátála, and though warned by omens to desist, he went to that hermitage to fight. But Muktáphaladhvaja and his men, who were on the alert there, rushed to attack the king of the Dánavas, as soon as they saw him arrive with his army. Then a second great battle took place between the Asuras and the men; and the gods, headed by Rudra and Indra, came in their chariots to witness it. And then Muktáphaladhvaja saw instantly presenting itself before him there a great weapon of Pasupati, of irresistible might, of huge size, with a flame of fire streaming up from it, with three eyes, with four faces, with one leg, and eight arms, looking like the fire which is to burn up the world at the end of the kalpa. The weapon said, "Know that I have come by the command of Siva, to ensure your victory." When the weapon said this, the prince worshipped it and clutched it. In the meanwhile those Asuras in the air, raining arrows, pressed hard the fainting army of Merudhvaja that was below them. Then Muktáphaladhvaja, who fought in various manners, came to deliver that army and fought with the Asuras, placing a net of arrows between them and his own men. And when Trailokyamálin, the king of the Asuras, saw him and his father and brother, mounted on their air-going steeds, he sent forth the snake-weapon. Innumerable terrible venomous snakes came out of it, and these Malayadhvaja slew with Garuda-birds, that came out of the Garuda-weapon. Then Muktáphalaketu repelled with case every weapon that the king of the Daityas and his son sent forth. Then that enemy of the gods, and his son, and the other Dánavas were enraged, and they all at one time launched at him their fiery weapons. But those weapons, seeing the weapon of Pasupati blazing in front of him, were immediately terrified and fled. Then the Daityas were terrified and tried to escape, but the hero Muktáphaladhvaja perceived their intention, and immediately constructed above them, and on all sides of them, an impenetrable net of arrows, like a cage of adamant. And while the Dánavas were circling within this, like birds, Muktáphaladhvaja with the help of his father and brother, smote them with sharp arrows. And the severed hands, feet, bodies, and heads of those Daityas fell on the ground, and streams of blood [711] flowed. Then the gods exclaimed "Bravo!" and followed up their acclamation with a rain of flowers, and Muktáphaladhvaja used the bewildering weapon against those enemies. That made the Asuras and their king fall senseless on the earth, and then by means of the weapon of Varuna the prince bound them all with nooses. Then the hermit Tapodhana said to king Merudhvaja, "You must by no means kill those Asura warriors that have escaped the slaughter: but you must win them over and enter Rasátala with them. As for this king of the Daityas, and his son, and his ministers, you must take them with the great Asuras, and the malignant Nágas, and the principal Rákshasas, and imprison them in the cave of Svetasaila in Devasabha." [712] When the hermit had said this to Merudhvaja, he said to the Daitya warriors, "Do not be afraid, we must not slay you, but you must henceforth be subject to the sway of this Muktáphaladhvaja and his brother." When the king said this to the Dánavas, they joyfully consented to his proposal. Then the king had Trailokyamálin, the sovereign of the Daityas, with his son and the others, conveyed to Svetasaila. And he placed them in confinement in that cave, and had them guarded by his principal minister, who was backed by a force of many brave warriors. Then, the battle having come to an end, and the gods, who were present in their chariots, having departed, after showering mandára flowers, an universal rejoicing took place over the whole world, and the victorious king Merudhvaja said to his two sons, "I will remain here for the present to guard the sacrifice, and do you march to Pátála with these soldiers of ours, who have possessed themselves of many chariots belonging to the Daityas, and with those soldiers of the Asura army who have escaped destruction. And conciliate and win over to our allegiance the inhabitants of Pátála, and appoint chief governors throughout the territory, and having thus taken possession of it you must return here." When the heroic Muktáphaladhvaja, who was mounted on his heavenly steed, that went with a wish, and Malayadhvaja heard this, the two brothers, with their forces, entered Rasátala, together with that portion of the army of the Dánavas, that had made submission, which marched in front of them. And they killed the guards that opposed them in various places, and proclaimed an amnesty to the others by beat of drum. And, as the people shewed confidence and were submissive, they took possession of the seven Rasátalas, adorned with splendid palaces [713] built of various jewels, and they enjoyed those palaces which were rendered delightful by gardens that gratified every wish, and had in them lakes of heavenly wine with many ladders of precious stone. And there they beheld Dánava ladies of wonderful beauty, and their daughters, who by means of magic concealed their forms within trees. And then Svayamvaraprabhá, the wife of Trailokyamálin, began austerities in order to bring about the welfare of her imprisoned husband, and in the same way her daughters, Trailokyaprabhá and Tribhuvanaprabhá, began austerities for the welfare of their father. And those princes honoured with various favours all the inhabitants of Pátála, who were happy now that they had obtained repose; and they appointed Sangrámasinha and others governors, and went to their father in the hermitage of Tapodhana. And in the meanwhile the sacrifice of the hermit there reached completion, and the gods and the rishis prepared to go to their own abodes. [714] And as Indra was exceedingly pleased, Merudhvaja said to him, "Come with me to my city, king of heaven, if thou be pleased with me." When Indra heard that, he went, in order to please him, with the king and his son to the city of Devasabha, after taking leave of the hermit. And there the king, who was sovereign of two worlds, entertained Indra so sumptuously, that he forgot his happiness in heaven. Then Indra too, being gratified, took the king and his sons in his own heavenly chariot to his celestial abode, and in that place which was charming with the pleasures of a concert in which Nárada, Rambhá and others performed, he made Merudhvaja, with Muktáphaladhvaja and Malayadhvaja, forget their toils, and gave them garlands from the Párijáta-tree, and celestial diadems, and after honouring them, sent them home. And they, when they returned, kept going to and fro between the earth and Pátála, and though kings of men, bare sway in two worlds. Then Merudhvaja said to Muktáphaladhvaja, "Our enemies are conquered; you two brothers are young men, and I have various princesses who are subject to my sway, and I have sent for some of them: the fitting time has come; so take to yourselves wives." When Muktáphaladhvaja's father said this to him, he answered, "Father, my mind is not inclined to marriage at present. I will now perform a course of austerities to propitiate [715] Siva; but let this Malayadhvaja my dear younger brother, be married." When his younger brother Malayadhvaja heard this, he said, "Noble brother, is it fitting that I should be married, before you have taken a wife, or that I should hold sway while you are without a kingdom? I follow in your footsteps." When Malayadhvaja said this, king Merudhvaja said to his eldest son Muktáphaladhvaja, "Your younger brother here has spoken rightly, but what you have just said is not right; it is no time for asceticism in this fresh youth of yours; the present should be to you a time of enjoyment; so abandon, my son, this perverse crotchet of yours, which is most inopportune." Though the king addressed these admonitions to his eldest son, that prince resolutely refused to take a wife: so the king remained silent, to wait for a more favourable time. In the meanwhile, in Pátála, the two daughters of Trailokyamálin's wife, Svayamprabhá, who were engaged in austerities, said to their mother, "Mother, when one of us was seven and the other eight years old, owing to our want of merits, [716] our father was imprisoned, and we were hurled from the royal rank. It is now the eighth year, that we have been engaged in austerities, and yet Siva is not pleased with us, and our father has not, as yet, been released from his imprisonment. So let us even consume these unlucky bodies in the fire, before we also are imprisoned, or experience some other insult at the hands of our enemy." When Svayamprabhá's daughters said this to her, she answered them, "Wait a while, my daughters, we shall regain our former glory. For I know that, while I was engaged in austerities, the god Siva said to me in a dream, 'My child, be of good courage; thy husband shall recover his kingdom, and the princes Muktáphaladhvaja and Malayadhvaja shall be the husbands of thy two daughters. And do not suppose that they are men; for one of them is a noble Vidyádhara, and the other is a Gana of mine.' When I had received this revelation from Siva, I woke up at the close of night; and supported by this hope I have borne great suffering. So I will inform the king your father of this matter, and with his consent, I will endeavour to bring about your marriage." When the queen Svayamprabhá had in these words comforted her daughters, she said to Indumatí, an old woman of the harem, "Go to my husband in the cave of Svetasaila, and fall at his feet, and say to him from me, 'My husband, the Creator has formed me of such strange wood, that, though the fire of separation from you burns fiercely, I have not yet been consumed by it. But it is because I entertain a hope of seeing you again that I have not abandoned life.' When you have said this, tell him the revelation that Siva made to me in a dream, then ask him about the marriage of our daughters, and come back, and tell me what he says; I will then act accordingly." When she had said this, she sent off Indumatí; and she left Pátála and reached the well-guarded entrance of that mountain-cave. She entreated the guards and entered, and seeing Trailokyamálin there a prisoner, she burst into tears, and embraced his feet; and when he asked her how she was, she slowly told him all his wife's message; then that king said, "As for what Siva says about my restoration to my kingdom, may that turn out as the god announced, but the idea of my giving my daughters to the sons of Merudhvaja is preposterous. I would rather perish here than give my daughters as a present to enemies and men too, while myself a prisoner." When Indumatí had been sent away by the king with this message, she went and delivered it to his wife Svayamprabhá. And when Trailokyaprabhá and Tribhuvanaprabhá the daughters of the Daitya sovereign heard it, they said to their mother Svayamprabhá, "Anxiety lest our youthful purity should be outraged makes the fire seem our only place of safety, so we will enter it, mother, on the fourteenth day, that is now approaching." When they had thus resolved, their mother and her suite also made up their minds to die. And when the fourteenth day arrived, they all worshipped Hátakesvara, and made pyres in a holy bathing-place called Páparipu. Now it happened that on that very day king Merudhvaja, with his son, and his wife, was coming there to worship Hátakesvara. And as he was going to the holy water of Páparipu, with his suite, to bathe, he saw smoke rising from the midst of a grove on its bank. And when the king asked, "How comes smoke to be rising here?" those governors he had set over Pátála, Sangrámasinha and the others, said to him, "Great king, Svayamprabhá, the wife of Trailokyamálin, is engaged in austerities here with her daughters the princesses. Without doubt they are now performing here some sacrificial rite in honour of the fire, or possibly they are wearied out with excessive asceticism, and are immolating themselves by entering it." When the king heard that, he went to see what was going on, with his sons, and his wife, and those governors of Pátála, ordering the rest of his suite to remain behind. And concealing himself there, he beheld those Daitya maidens, with their mother, worshipping the fire of the pyres, which was burning brightly. [717] They seemed with the effulgence of the great beauty of their faces which shone out in all directions, to be creating in the lower world a hundred discs of the moon: and to be installing the god of love as king after the conquest of the three worlds, with their swiftly-moving necklaces that looked like liquid streams poured down from the golden pitchers of their breasts. Their broad hips, surrounded with the girdles which they wore, looked like the head of the elephant of love adorned with a girdle of constellations. The long wavy masses of hair which they bore, seemed like snakes made by the Creator to guard the treasure of their beauty. When the king saw them, he was astonished, and he said, "The creation of the Maker of All is surprising for the novelty that is ever being manifested in it: [718] for neither Rambhá, nor Urvasí, nor Tilottamá is equal in beauty to these two daughters of the Asura king." While the king was making these reflections to himself, Trailokyaprabhá, the elder of the two Daitya maidens, after worshipping the god present in the Fire, addressed this prayer to him, "Since, from the time that my mother told me of the revelation of Siva received by her in a dream, my mind has been fixed upon prince Muktáphaladhvaja, that treasure-house of virtue, as my chosen husband, I pray, holy one, that he may be my husband in a future birth, inasmuch as, though in this birth my mother wishes to give me to him, my haughty father, being a captive, will not consent to it." When Tribhuvanaprabhá heard that, she, in the same way, prayed to the Fire-god that Malayadhvaja might be her husband in a future life. Then king Merudhvaja, who was delighted at hearing that, and the queen his wife said to one another, "If our two sons could obtain these two maidens for their wives, they would reap fruit from their conquest of the two worlds. So let us go to them and their mother, before they have cast themselves into the fire, as they intend to do in a moment, and dissuade them from doing so." When the king, in consultation with the queen, had made up his mind to this, he went up to them, and said, "Do not act rashly: for I will put a stop to your sorrow." When all the Asura ladies heard this speech of the king's, that seemed like a rain of nectar to their ears, and afterwards saw him, they all bowed before him. And Svayamprabhá said to him, "Before we were concealed by magic, and you did not see us, though we saw you, but now we have been seen here by you, the sovereign of the two worlds. And now that we have been seen by you, our sorrow will soon come to an end; much more since you have bestowed on us by your own mouth a boon we never craved; so take a seat and receive the arghya and water for the feet. [719] For you deserve to be honoured by the three worlds; and this is our hermitage." When she said this, the king answered laughing, "Give the arghya and water for the feet to these your sons-in-law." Then Svayamprabhá said, "To them the god Siva will give the arghya and soon, but do you receive it to-day." Then Merudhvaja said, "I have already received it all; but do you, ladies, immediately give up your intention of committing suicide; and go and dwell in one of your cities where every wish can be gratified; then I will take steps to ensure your welfare." When the king said this, Svayamprabhá said to him, "In accordance with your Majesty's order we have given up our intention of abandoning the body, but while our lord is in prison, how would it be becoming for us to live in our palace? So we will remain here, king, for the present, until your Highness shall perform the promise which you spontaneously made to us, and shall cause our lord to be set free with his servants and ministers. And he will hold sway as your Majesty's zealous officer, and will make over his realm to you if you desire it; indeed he will make a strict agreement [720] with you to this effect. And for this we and all the inhabitants of Pátála will be your sureties, so take our jewels from the regions of Pátála, and make them your own." When she said this, king Merudhvaja said to her, "I will see about that, but you must remember your promise." When the king had said this, he bathed and worshipped Hátakesa. And those Daitya princesses, having now seen his sons with their own eyes, had their minds entirely fixed on them. Then all the inhabitants of Rasátala [721] fell at the feet of the virtuous king Merudhvaja, and asked that Trailokyamálin should be set at liberty; and then king Merudhvaja, with his wife, sons, and servants, left the world of the Asuras, and returned to his own city, covering the regions with his umbrellas white as his own glory. There his son Malayadhvaja spent the night in thinking on the younger daughter of the king of the Dánavas, being tortured with the fever of love, and though he closed his eyes, he never slept. But that sea of self-control Muktáphaladhvaja, though he thought upon the elder daughter of the Asura monarch who was deeply in love with him, and though he was young, and she was fair enough to shake with love the saintly minds of anchorites, still in virtue of the boon he had craved from the hermit, was no whit disturbed in mind. But Merudhvaja, finding that his elder son was determined not to take a wife, while Malayadhvaja was desperately in love, and that on the other hand that great Asura was averse to giving him his daughters, remained with his mind bewildered as to how to devise an expedient. CHAPTER CXIX. Then king Merudhvaja, seeing that Malayadhvaja was thus overpowered with the fever of love, said to his queen, "If those two daughters of Trailokyamálin, whom I saw in Pátála, do not become the wives of my two sons, what advantage shall I have gained? And my son Malayadhvaja is consumed with smouldering flame, because he cannot obtain the younger of the two, though shame makes him conceal the fire of love. It is for this very reason that, though I promised Trailokyamálin's queen that I would set him at liberty, I do not at once make my promise good. For, if he is set free from his imprisonment, his pride as an Asura will prevent his ever giving his daughters to my sons as being men. So it is now advisable to propose this matter to him in a conciliatory manner." When he had gone through these reflections with the queen, he said to his warder, "Go to the cave of Svetasaila, and say, as from me, in a kind manner to Trailokyamálin, the king of the Daityas, who is imprisoned there, 'King of the Daityas, by the appointment of Destiny you have been long afflicted here, so now do what I advise, and bring your affliction to an end. Give to my two sons your two daughters, who fell in love with them at first sight, and thus procure your release, and rule your kingdom, after you have given security for your fidelity.'" With this message the king sent off his warder, and he went and delivered it to the Daitya monarch in that cave. The monarch answered, "I will not give my two daughters to two men;" and the warder returned and reported his answer to the king. Then king Merudhvaja began to look about for some other means of attaining his end, and in the course of some days Svayamprabhá heard how he had sped, so she again sent Indumatí from Pátála to his palace with a message. And Indumatí arrived, and had herself announced by the female warder, and went into the presence of the great queen, who received her graciously. And she bowed before her, and said to her, "Queen, queen Svayamprabhá sends you this message, 'Have you forgotten your own promise? The seas and the principal mountains will suffer change at the day of doom, but the promises of people like you will not change even then. Although my husband has not consented to bestow our daughters as you wished, reflect, how could he have given them as a present while himself a prisoner? If you release him in a proper way as an act of kindness, [722] he will certainly make you a return by giving you his daughters. Otherwise Svayamprabhá and her daughters will abandon their lives, and in this way you will fail to obtain daughters-in-law, and also to keep your promise? So manage, queen, to make the king set our lord free on the conditions of compact and security and so on, in order that all may turn out well; and accept this ornament sent by Svayamprabhá, studded with various gems, that confer the power of becoming a Vidyádhara, and other advantages.'" When Indumatí said this, the queen answered her, "How can I take this from your mistress now that she is in trouble?" But Indumatí urged her vehemently to take it, saying, "We shall be quite unhappy if you refuse to accept it, but if you take it, we shall consider our affliction alleviated." Being thus strongly urged by Indumatí, the queen took from her that jewelled ornament, to comfort her; and she made her wait there, saying to her, "Remain here, noble lady, until the king shall come this way." In the meanwhile the king came there, and Indumatí rose up, and having been introduced by the queen, bowed before him, and he received her graciously. And she gave to that king a crest-jewel sent by Svayamprabhá, that was a talisman against poison, Rákshasas, old age, and disease. [723] The king said, "I will accept this jewel when I have kept my promise; but the ready-witted Indumatí said to him, "A promise made by the king is as good as kept. But, if your Majesty will accept this, we shall be very much comforted." When she made this speech, the queen observed, "Well said," and took that crest-jewel, and fastened it on the king's head. Then Indumatí repeated to the king the message of Svayamprabhá, as she had delivered it to the queen; then the king, being entreated to the same effect by the queen, went on to say to Indumatí, "Remain here for to-day; to-morrow morning I will give you an answer." Having said this, king Merudhvaja allowed a night to pass, and the next morning he summoned his ministers, and said to Indumatí, "Noble lady, go with these ministers of mine, and after informing Trailokyamálin, bring from Pátála those Asura ladies, Svayamprabhá and the others, and all the principal inhabitants of Pátála, and the water of ordeal connected with Hátakesvara, in a sealed vessel. And let Svayamprabhá and the others touch the feet of Svayamprabhá's husband, in the presence of my ministers, and by solemn oaths make themselves sureties for this, namely, that Trailokyamálin, with his friends and servants, shall ever remain firm in his allegiance to me, and that the Nágas shall not injure the crops. And let all the lords in Pátála be sureties to the same effect, and let them all, with their king, give their children as hostages, [724] and let them all, with their king, put this in writing, and drink the water of ordeal in which the image of Hátakesvara has been washed: then I will release Trailokyamálin from prison." Having said so much, the king sent off Indumatí with his ministers. She went with them, and informed Trailokyamálin of what was being done, and as he approved of her proceedings, she went in the same way to Pátála, and she brought there Svayamprabhá and the others, and the water of ordeal, [725] and she made them all do in the presence of the king's ministers all that he had prescribed. And when king Trailokyamálin had in this way given security, king Merudhvaja set him free from prison with his suite. And he had brought him to his own palace with his family and his attendants, and courteously entertained him; and then he took possession of all the jewels of the Asuras, and sent Trailokyamálin back to his kingdom. And Trailokyamálin returned to Rasátala his home, and having recovered his kingdom, rejoiced with his servants and relations. And Merudhvaja filled the earth with abundant treasures that came from Pátála, as a rain-cloud showers water. Then Trailokyamálin, the king of the Daityas, took counsel with his wife, desiring to bestow his two beautiful daughters on Merudhvaja's sons, and he invited him to his palace, with his relations, and came himself to escort him there, remembering the benefit conferred on him. So he came to king Merudhvaja, who entertained him, and then he said to him, "On a former occasion, your great joy prevented your seeing Rasátala properly. But now come and see it, while we give ourselves up to attending on you; and accept from me my two beautiful daughters for your sons." When the Asura king had said this to Merudhvaja, the latter summoned his wife and his two sons. And he told them the speech of the Asura king, and how he proposed to give his two daughters; then his eldest son Muktáphaladhvaja said to him, "I will not marry until I have propitiated Siva; I said this long ago; you must pardon this fault in me. When I have gone, let Malayadhvaja marry; for he will never be happy without that Pátála maiden." When the younger son heard this, he said to his elder brother, "Noble sir, while you are alive, I will never perform such a disgraceful and unrighteous act." Then king Merudhvaja earnestly exhorted Muktáphaladhvaja to marry, but he would not consent to do so; and therefore Trailokyamálin took leave of the king, who was in a state of despondency, and went back with his suite to Pátála as he had come. There he told what had taken place and said to his wife and son, "Observe how exclusively bent on humiliating us Fortune is. Those very men, to whom formerly I refused to give my daughters in marriage when they asked for them, now refuse to accept them, though I ask them to do so." When they heard it, they said, "Who can tell how this matter is in the mind of Destiny? Can Siva's promise be falsified?" While they were saying these things, those maidens, Trailokyaprabhá and Tribhuvanaprabhá, heard what had happened, and took upon them the following vow, "We will remain without food for twelve days, and if at the end of that time the god does not shew us favour by bringing about our marriage, we will enter the fire together, and we will not preserve our bodies for insult, or merely for the sake of continuing in life." When the daughters of the Daitya sovereign had made this vow, they remained fasting in front of the god, engaged in meditation and muttering prayers. And their mother and their father the sovereign of the Daityas, hearing of it, and being very fond of their daughters, remained fasting in the same way. Then Svayamprabhá their mother quickly sent off Indumatí once more to Merudhvaja's queen consort, to tell her how matters were going. She went and told that queen the trouble in her master's house, and so Merudhvaja also came to hear of it. Then that couple abandoned food out of regard for the other royal couple, and their sons did so as well, out of regard for their parents. Thus in two worlds the royal families were in trouble. And Muktáphaladhvaja remained without eating, and meditated on Siva as his refuge. And, after six nights had passed, in the morning the prince woke up, and said to his friend Mahábuddhi, who had formerly been Samyataka, "My friend, I remember that last night in a dream I mounted my steed given me by the hermit Tapodhana, that changes its shape at will, and goes where the mind directs, and had become a flying chariot, and, in my despondency I went to a heavenly temple of Siva, very far from here, on the slope of Meru. There I saw a certain celestial maiden emaciated with austerities; and a certain man with matted hair, pointing to her, said to me laughing, 'You have come here in this way to escape from one maiden, and lo! here is another waiting for you.' When I heard this speech of his, I remained gazing at the beauty of that maiden, but found it impossible to gaze my fill, and so at the end of the night I suddenly woke up. "So I will go there to obtain that heavenly maiden, and if I do not find her there, I will enter the fire. What can Destiny mean, by causing my mind to become attached to this maiden seen in a dream, after rejecting, in the way I did, the Daitya maiden, offered to me a short time ago? At any rate, I am persuaded that, if I go there, good fortune will certainly befall me." Having said this, he called to mind that vehicle given to him by the hermit, which would carry him to any place conceived in the mind, and assume any desired form. It turned into an air-going chariot, and he mounted it, and set out for that heavenly temple of Siva, and when he reached it, he saw that it was just as it had seemed in his dream, and he rejoiced. Then he proceeded to perform religious ablution with all the attendant rites, in the holy water there, named Siddhodaka, with no one to wait on him but his friend. Then his father king Merudhvaja, who was in his own city, emaciated with fasting, accompanied by his wife, son, and suite, heard that he had gone off somewhere secretly, and became bewildered with grief. And all this was at once known in Pátála, exactly as it had taken place. Then Trailokyamálin took with him his two daughters, and came fasting, with his wife and suite, to visit king Merudhvaja. And they all resolved on the following course of action; "Surely, as it is the fourteenth day, the prince has gone somewhere to worship Siva; so we will wait for him here this day. But to-morrow, if he has not returned, we will go where he is: then, happen what will." In the meanwhile Padmávatí, who was in that hermitage of Siva, named Meghavana, said that very day to her ladies-in-waiting; "My friends, I remember that last night I went in a dream to Siddhísvara, and a certain man wearing matted hair came out of the temple of the god, and said to me, 'My daughter, thy sorrow is at an end, thy reunion with thy husband is nigh at hand.' When he had said this, he departed, and night and sleep left me together. So come, let us go there." When Padmávatí had said this, she went to that temple of Gaurí on the slope of Meru. There she saw with astonishment that Muktáphaladhvaja at a distance bathing in Siddhodaka, and she said to her friends, "This man is like my beloved. Observe how very like he is. Wonderful! Can he be the very same? It cannot be, for he is a mortal." When her ladies-in-waiting heard that, and saw him, they said to her, "Princess, not only is this man very like your beloved, but observe, his companion also bears a resemblance to your lover's friend Samyataka. So we know for certain that, in accordance with your last night's dream which you related to us, Siva has by his power brought those two here, after their becoming incarnate as men owing to a curse. Otherwise, how, being mortals, could they have come to this region of the gods?" When Padmávatí had been thus addressed by her ladies-in-waiting, she worshipped Siva, and in a state of eager excitement, remained concealed near the god's symbol to find out who the stranger was. In the meanwhile Muktáphaladhvaja, having bathed, came into the temple to worship the god, and after looking all round, said to Mahábuddhi, "Strange to say, here is that very temple, which I saw in my dream, made of precious stone, with the form of Siva visible within the linga. And now I behold here those very localities, which I saw in my dream, full of jewel-gleaming trees, which are alive with heavenly birds. But I do not see here that heavenly maiden, whom I then saw; and if I do not find her, I am determined to abandon the body in this place." When he said this, Padmávatí's ladies-in-waiting said to her in a whisper, "Listen! it is certain that he has come here, because he saw you here in a dream, and if he does not find you, he intends to surrender his life; so let us remain here concealed, and see what he means to do." And while they remained there in concealment, Muktáphaladhvaja entered, and worshipped the god, and came out. And when he came out, he devoutly walked round the temple three times, keeping his right hand towards it, and then he and his friend remembered their former birth, and in their joy they were telling to one another the events of their life as Vidyádharas, when Padmávatí met their view. And Muktáphaladhvaja, remembering the occurrences of his former life, as soon as he saw her, was filled with joy, and said to his friend, "Lo! this very princess Padmávatí, the lady I saw in my dream! and she has come here by good luck; so I will at once go and speak to her." When he had said this, he went up to her weeping and said, "Princess, do not go away anywhere now; for I am your former lover Muktáphalaketu. I became a man by the curse of the hermit Dridhavrata, and I have now remembered my former birth." When he had said this, he tried, in his eagerness, to embrace her. But she was alarmed and made herself invisible, and remained there with her eyes full of tears: and the prince, not seeing her, fell on the ground in a swoon. Then his friend sorrowfully spoke these words into the air, "How is it, princess Padmávatí, that, now this lover has come, for whom you suffered such severe austerities, you will not speak to him? I too am Samyataka the comrade of your beloved: why do you not say something kind to me, as I was cursed for you?" After saying this, he restored the prince, and said to him, "This punishment has come upon you as the result of the crime you committed in not accepting the Daitya princess, who offered herself to you out of love." When Padmávatí, who was concealed, heard this, she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "Listen, he has no inclination for Asura maidens." Then her ladies said to her, "You see that all tallies together. Do you not remember that long ago, when your beloved was cursed, he craved as a boon from the hermit Tapodhana, that while he was a man, his heart might never be inclined to any one but Padmávatí. It is in virtue of that boon that he now feels no love for other women." When the princess heard this, she was bewildered with doubt. Then Muktáphaladhvaja, who had no sooner seen his beloved, than she disappeared from his eyes, cried out, "Ah! my beloved Padmávatí, do you not see that when I was a Vidyádhara, I incurred a curse in Meghavana for your sake? And now be assured that I shall meet my death here." When Padmávatí heard him utter this and other laments, she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "Though all indications seem to tally, still these two may possibly have heard these things at some time or other by communication from mouth to mouth, and therefore my mind is not convinced. But I cannot bear to listen to his sorrowful exclamations, so I will go to that temple of Gaurí; moreover it is the hour of worship for me there." When Padmávatí had said this, she went with her ladies-in-waiting to that hermitage of Ambiká, and after worshipping the goddess she offered this prayer, "If the man I have just seen in Siddhísvara is really my former lover, bring about for me, goddess, my speedy reunion with him." And while Padmávatí was there, longing for her beloved, Muktáphaladhvaja, who had remained behind in Siddhísvara, said to his friend Mahábuddhi, who had been in a former life his friend Samyataka, "I am convinced, my friend, that she has gone to her own haunt, that temple of Gaurí; so come, let us go there." When he had said this, he ascended that chariot of his, which went wherever the mind desired, and flew to that hermitage of Ambiká. When Padmávatí's ladies-in-waiting saw him afar off, coming down in the chariot from the sky, they said to Padmávatí, "Princess, behold this marvel. He has come here also, travelling in an air-going chariot; how can he, a mere man, have such power?" Then Padmávatí said, "My friends, do you not remember that on Dridhavrata, who cursed him, I laid the following curse, 'When my beloved is incarnate as a man, you shall be his vehicle, assuming any desired shape, and moving in obedience to a wish.' So, no doubt, this is that hermit's pupil, his vehicle, wearing at present the form of an air-going chariot, and by means of it he roams everywhere at will." When she said this, her ladies-in-waiting said to her, "If you know this to be the case, princess, why do you not speak to him? What are you waiting for?" When Padmávatí heard this speech of her ladies', she went on to say, "I think that this probably is the case, but I am not absolutely certain as yet. But, even supposing he really is my beloved, how can I approach him, now that he is not in his own body, but in another body? So, let us for a time watch his proceedings, being ourselves concealed." When the princess had said this, she remained there concealed, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting. Then Muktáphaladhvaja descended from the chariot in that hermitage of Ambiká, and being full of longing, said to his friend, "Here I had my first interview with my beloved, when she had been terrified by the Rákshasís; and I again saw her in the garden here, when she came having chosen me for her own; and here I received the curse, and she wished to follow me by dying; but was, though with difficulty, prevented by that great hermit: and now, see, that very same lady flies out of reach of my eyes." When Padmávatí heard him speak thus, she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "True, my friends, it is really my beloved, but how can I approach him, before he has entered his former body? In this matter Siddhísvara is my only hope. He sent me the dream, and he will provide for me a way out of my difficulties." When she had formed this resolution, she went back to Siddhísvara. And she worshipped that manifestation of Siva, and offered this prayer to him, "Unite me with my beloved in his former body, or bestow death on me. I see no third way of escape from my woe." And then she remained with her friends in the court of the god's temple. In the meanwhile Muktáphaladhvaja searched for the princess in the temple of Gaurí, and not finding her was despondent, and said to that friend, "I have not found her here; let us go back to that temple of Siva; if I cannot find her there, I will enter the fire." When that friend heard it, he said, "Good luck will befall you! The word of the hermit and Siva's promise in your dream cannot be falsified." With those words did Muktáphaladhvaja's friend try to comfort him; and then Muktáphaladhvaja ascended the chariot, and went with him to Siddhísvara. When Padmávatí saw him arrive, she still remained there invisible, and she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "Look! he has come to this very place." He too entered, and seeing that offerings had been recently placed in front of the god, prince Muktáphaladhvaja said to that companion of his, "Look, my friend, some one has been quite recently worshipping this symbol of the god; surely, that beloved of mine must be somewhere here, and she must have done this worship." When he had said this, he looked for her, but could not find her; and then in the anguish of separation he cried out again and again, "Ah! my beloved Padmávatí!" Then, thinking that the cry of the cuckoo was her voice, and that the tail of the peacock was her hair, and that the lotus was her face, the prince ran wildly about, overpowered with an attack of the fever of love, and with difficulty did his friend console him; and coaxing him, he said to him, "What is this that you have taken up, being weak with much fasting? Why do you disregard your own welfare, though you have conquered the earth and Pátála? Your father Merudhvaja, and king Trailokyamálin, the king of the Dánavas, your future father-in-law, and his daughter Trailokyaprabhá, who wishes to marry you, and your mother Vinayavatí, and your younger brother Malayadhvaja will, if you do not go to them, suspect that some misfortune has happened, and fasting as they are, will give up their breath. So come along! Let us go and save their lives, for the day is at an end." When Muktáphaladhvaja's friend said this to him, he answered him, "Then go yourself in my chariot and comfort them." Then his friend said, "How will that hermit's pupil, who has been made your vehicle by a curse, submit to me?" When the prince's friend said this, he replied, "Then wait a little, my friend; let us see what will happen here." When Padmávatí heard this conversation of theirs, she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "I know that this is my former lover by all the notes tallying, but he is degraded by the curse, being enclosed in a human body, and I too am thus afflicted with a curse, because I laughed at the Siddha-maiden." While she was saying this, the moon rose, red in hue, the fire that devours the forest of separated lovers. And gradually the moonlight filled the world on every side, and the flame of love's fire filled the heart of Muktáphaladhvaja. Then the prince began to lament like a chakraváka at the approach of night; and Padmávatí, who was concealed, being despondent, said to him, "Prince, though you are my former lover, still, as you are now in another body, you are to me a strange man, and I am to you as the wife of another; so why do you lament again and again? Surely some means will be provided, if that speech of the hermit's was true." When Muktáphaladhvaja heard this speech of hers, and could not see her, he fell into a state which was painful from the contending emotions of joy and despondency; and he said to her, "Princess, my former birth has returned to my recollection, and so I recognised you, as soon as I saw you, for you still wear your old body, but as you saw me when I was dwelling in my Vidyádhara [726] body, how can you recognise me, now that I am in a mortal body? So I must certainly abandon this accursed frame." When he had said this, he remained silent, and his beloved continued in concealment. Then, the night being almost gone, and his friend Mahábuddhi, who was formerly Samyataka, having gone to sleep out of weariness, prince Muktáphaladhvaja, thinking that he could never obtain Padmávatí, as long as he continued in that body, collected wood, [727] and lighted a fire; and worshipped Siva embodied in the linga, uttering this prayer, "Holy one, may I by thy favour return to my former body, and soon obtain my beloved Padmávatí!" And having said this, he consumed his body in that blazing fire. And in the meanwhile Mahábuddhi woke up, and not being able, in spite of careful search, to find Muktáphaladhvaja, and seeing the fire blazing up, he came to the conclusion that his friend, distracted with separation, had burnt himself, and out of regret for his loss, he flung himself into that same fire. When Padmávatí saw that, she was tortured with grief, and she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "Alas! Fie! the female heart is harder than the thunderbolt, otherwise my breath must have left me beholding this horror. So, how long am I to retain this wretched life? Even now, owing to my demerits, there is no end to my woe; moreover, the promise of that hermit has been falsified; so it is better that I should die. But it is not fitting that I should enter this fire and be mixed up with strange men, so in this difficult conjuncture hanging, which gives no trouble, is my best resource." When the princess had said this, she went in front of Siva, and proceeded to make a noose by means of a creeper, which she fastened to an asoka-tree. And while her ladies-in-waiting were trying to prevent her by encouraging speeches, that hermit Tapodhana came there. He said, "My daughter, do not act rashly, that promise of mine will not be falsified. Be of good courage, you shall see that husband of yours come here in a moment. His curse has been just now cancelled by virtue of your penance; so why do you now distrust the power of your own austerities? And why do you shew this despondency when your marriage is at hand? I have come here because I learnt all this by my power of meditation." When Padmávatí saw the hermit approaching uttering these words, she bowed before him, and was for a moment, as it were, swung to and fro by perplexity. Then her beloved Muktáphalaketu, having by the burning of his mortal body entered his own Vidyádhara body, came there with his friend. And Padmávatí, seeing that son of the king of the Vidyádharas coming through the air, as a female chátaka beholds a fresh rain-cloud, or a kumudvatí the full moon newly risen, felt indescribable joy in her heart. And Muktáphalaketu, when he saw her, rejoiced, and so to speak, drank her in with his eyes, as a traveller, wearied with long wandering in a desert, rejoices, when he beholds a river. And those two, reunited like a couple of chakravákas by the termination of the night of their curse, took their fill of falling at the feet of that hermit of glowing brilliancy. [728] Then that great hermit welcomed them in the following words, "My heart has been fully gratified to-day by seeing you reunited, happy at having come to the end of your curse." And when the night had passed, king Merudhvaja came there in search of them, mounted on the elephant of Indra, accompanied by his wife and his youngest son, and also Trailokyamálin the sovereign of the Daityas, with his daughter Trailokyaprabhá, mounted on a chariot, attended by his harem and his suite. Then the hermit pointed out Muktáphalaketu to those two kings and described what had taken place, how he had become a man by a curse, in order to do a service to the gods, and how he had been delivered from his human condition. And when Merudhvaja and the others heard that, though they were before eager to throw themselves into the fire, they bathed in Siddhodaka and worshipped Siva, by the hermit's direction, and were at once delivered from their sorrow. Then that Trailokyaprabhá suddenly called to mind her birth and said to herself "Truly I am that same Devaprabhá, the daughter of the king of the Siddhas, who, when undergoing austerities [729] in order that the emperor of all the Vidyádharas might be my husband, was ridiculed by Padmávatí, and entered the fire to gain the fulfilment of my desire. And now I have been born in this Daitya race, and here is this very prince with whom I was in love, who has recovered his Vidyádhara body. But it is not fitting that, now that his body is changed, he should be united to this body of mine, so I will consume my Asura body also in the fire, in order to obtain him." Having gone through these reflections in her mind, and having communicated her intention to her parents, she entered [730] the fire which had consumed Muktáphaladhvaja; and then the god of fire himself appeared with her, on whom out of pity he had bestowed her former body, and said to Muktáphaladhvaja, "Muktáphaladhvaja, this lady Devaprabhá, the daughter of the king of the Siddhas, for thy sake abandoned her body in me; so receive her as thy wife." When the god of fire had said this, he disappeared; and Brahmá came there with Indra and the rest of the gods, and Padmasekhara the king of the Gandharvas, with Chandraketu, the sovereign of the Vidyádharas. Then that prosperous king of the Gandharvas [731] gave his daughter Padmávatí, with due rites and much activity on the part of his followers, as wife to Muktáphalaketu, who bowed before him, congratulated by all. And then that prince of the Vidyádharas, having obtained that beloved, whom he had so long desired, considered that he had gathered the fruit of the tree of his birth, and married also that Siddha-maiden. And prince Malayadhvaja was united to that Daitya princess, his beloved Tribhuvanaprabhá, whom her father bestowed on him with due rites. Then Merudhvaja, having, on account of his son Malayadhvaja's complete success, anointed him to be sole ruler of a kingdom extending over the earth with all its islands, went with his wife to the forest to perform austerities. And Trailokyamálin, the king of the Daityas, went with his wife to his own region, and Indra gave to Muktáphalaketu the splendid kingdom of Vidyuddhvaja. And this voice came from heaven, "Let this Muktáphalaketu enjoy the sovereignty over the Vidyádharas and Asuras, and let the gods go to their own abodes!" When they heard that voice, Brahmá and Indra and the other gods went away delighted, and the hermit Tapodhana went with his pupil, who was released from his curse, and Chandraketu went to his own Vidyádhara home, with his son Muktáphalaketu who was graced by two wives. And there the king, together with his son, long enjoyed the dignity of emperor over the Vidyádharas, but at last he threw on him the burden of his kingdom, and, disgusted with the world and its pleasures, went with the queen to an ascetic grove of hermits. And Muktáphalaketu, having before obtained from Indra the rule over the Asuras, and again from his father the empire over the Vidyádharas, enjoyed, in the society of Padmávatí, who seemed like an incarnation of happiness, for ten kalpas, the good fortune of all the pleasures which the sway of those two wealthy realms could yield, and thus obtained the highest success. But he saw that passions are in their end distasteful, and at last he entered a wood of mighty hermits, and by the eminence of his asceticism obtained the highest glory, and became a companion of the lord Siva. Thus king Brahmadatta and his wife and his minister heard this romantic tale from the couple of swans, and gained knowledge from their teaching, and obtained the power of flying through the air like gods; and then they went accompanied by those two birds to Siddhísvara, [732] and there they all laid aside the bodies they had entered in consequence of the curse, and were reinstated in their former position as attendants upon Siva. [733] Hearing this story from Gomukha in the absence of Madanamanchuká, for a moment only, hermits, I cheered my heart with hope. When the emperor Naraváhanadatta had told this story, those hermits in the hermitage of Kasyapa, accompanied by Gopálaka, rejoiced exceedingly. BOOK XVIII. CHAPTER CXX. Glory be to that god, half of whose body is the moon-faced Párvatí, who is smeared with ashes white as the rays of the moon, whose eyes gleam with a fire like that of the sun and moon, who wears a half-moon on his head! May that elephant-faced god protect you, who, with his trunk bent at the end, uplifted in sport, appears to be bestowing successes! Then Naraváhanadatta, in the hermitage of the hermit Kasyapa, on that Black Mountain, said to the assembled hermits, "Moreover, when, during my separation from the queen, Vegavatí, who was in love with me, took me and made me over to the protection of a Science, I longed to abandon the body, being separated from my beloved and in a foreign land; but while, in this state of mind, I was roaming about in a remote part of the forest, I beheld the great hermit Kanva. "That compassionate hermit, seeing me bowing at his feet, and knowing by the insight of profound meditation that I was miserable, took me to his hermitage, and said to me, 'Why are you distracted, though you are a hero sprung from the race of the Moon? As the ordinance of the god standeth sure, why should you despair of reunion with your wife? "'The most unexpected meetings do take place for men in this world; I will tell you, to illustrate this, the story of Vikramáditya; listen.'" The story of Vikramáditya. There is in Avanti a famous city, named Ujjayiní, the dwelling-place of Siva, built by Visvakarman in the commencement or the Yuga; which, like a virtuous woman, is invincible by strangers; like a lotus-plant is the resort of the goddess of prosperity; like the heart of the good, is rich in virtue; like the earth, is full of many wonderful sights. There dwelt in that city a world-conquering king, named Mahendráditya, the slayer of his enemies' armies, like Indra in Amarávatí. In regard of prowess he was a wielder of many weapons; in regard of beauty he was the flower-weaponed god [734] himself; his hand was ever open in bounty, but was firmly clenched on the hilt of his sword. That king had a wife named Saumyadarsaná, who was to him as Sachí to Indra, as Gaurí to Siva, as Srí to Vishnu. And that king had a great minister named Sumati, and a warder named Vajráyudha, in whose family the office was hereditary. With these the king remained ruling his realm, propitiating Siva, and ever bearing various vows in order to obtain a son. In the meanwhile, as Siva was with Párvatí on the mighty mountain Kailása, the glens of which are visited by troops of gods, which is beautiful with the smile that the Northern quarter smiles joyous at vanquishing all the others, all the gods with Indra at their head came to visit him, being afflicted by the oppression of the Mlechchhas; and the immortals bowed, and then sat down and praised Siva; and when he asked them the reason of their coming, they addressed to him this prayer: "O god, those Asuras, who were slain by thee and Vishnu, have been now again born on the earth in the form of Mlechchhas. They slay Bráhmans, they interfere with the sacrifices and other ceremonies, and they carry off the daughters of hermits: indeed, what crime do not the villains commit? Now, thou knowest, lord, that the world of gods is ever nourished by the earth, for the oblation offered in the fire by Bráhmans nourishes the dwellers in heaven. But, as the Mlechchhas have overrun the earth, the auspicious words are nowhere pronounced over the burnt-offering, and the world of gods is being exhausted by the cutting off of their share of the sacrifice and other supplies. [735] So devise an expedient in this matter; cause some hero to become incarnate on the earth, mighty enough to destroy those Mlechchhas." When Siva had been thus entreated by the gods, he said to them, "Depart; you need not be anxious about this matter; be at your ease. Rest assured that I will soon devise an expedient which will meet the difficulty." When Siva had said this, he dismissed the gods to their abodes. [736] And when they had gone, the Holy one, with Párvatí at his side, summoned a Gana, named Mályavat, and gave him this order, "My son, descend into the condition of a man, and be born in the city of Ujjayiní as the brave son of king Mahendráditya. That king is a portion of me, and his wife is sprung from a portion of Ambiká; be born in their family, and do the heaven-dwellers the service they require. Slay all those Mlechchhas that obstruct the fulfilment of the law contained in the three Vedas. And by my favour thou shalt be a king ruling over the seven divisions of the world; moreover the Rákshasas, the Yakshas and the Vetálas shall own thy supremacy; [737] and after thou hast enjoyed human pleasures, thou shalt again return to me." When the Gana Mályavat received this command from Siva, he said "The command of you two divine beings cannot be disobeyed by me: but what enjoyments are there in the life of a man, which involves separations from relations, friends, and servants, very hard to bear, and the pain arising from loss of wealth, old age, disease, and the other ills of humanity?" When the Gana said this to Siva, the god thus replied, "Go, blameless one! These woes shall not fall to thy lot; by my favour thou shalt be happy throughout the whole of thy sojourn on earth." When Siva said this to Mályavat, that virtuous Gana immediately disappeared. And he went and was conceived in Ujjayiní, in the proper season, in the womb of the queen of king Mahendráditya. And at that time the god, whose diadem is fashioned of a digit of the moon, said to that king in a dream, "I am pleased with thee, king, so a son shall be born to thee, who by his might shall conquer the earth with all its divisions; and that hero shall reduce under his sway the Yakshas, Rákshasas, Pisáchas and others, even those that move in the air, and dwell in Pátála, and shall slay the hosts of the Mlechchhas; for this reason he shall be named Vikramáditya; and also Vishamasíla on account of his stern hostility [738] to his enemies." When the god had said this, he disappeared; and next morning the king woke up, and joyfully related his dream to his ministers. And they also told the king, one after another, with great delight, that Siva had made a revelation to each of them in a dream that he was to have a son. And at that moment a handmaid of the harem came and shewed the king a fruit, saying, "Siva gave this to the queen in a dream." Then the king rejoiced, saying, again and again, "Truly, Siva has given me a son," and his ministers congratulated him. Then his illustrious queen became pregnant, like the eastern quarter in the morning, when the orb of the sun is about to arise, and she was conspicuous for the black tint of the nipples of her breasts, which appeared like a seal to secure the milk for the king with whom she was pregnant. In her dreams at that time she crossed seven seas, being worshipped by all the Yakshas, Vetálas, and Rákshasas. And when the due time was come, she brought forth a glorious son, who lit up the chamber, as the rising sun does the heaven. And when he was born, the sky became indeed glorious, laughing with the falling rain of flowers, and ringing with the noise of the gods' drums. And on that occasion the city was altogether distracted with festive joy, and appeared as if intoxicated, as if possessed by a demon, as if generally wind-struck. And at that time the king rained wealth there so unceasingly, that, except the Buddhists, no one was without a god. [739] And king Mahendráditya gave him the name of Vikramáditya, which Siva had mentioned, and also that of Vishamasíla. When some more days had passed, there was born to that king's minister, named Sumati, a son of the name of Mahámati, and the warder Vajráyudha had a son born to him, named Bhadhráyudha, and the chaplain Mahídhara had a son of the name of Srídhara. And that prince Vikramáditya grew up with those three minister's sons, as with spirit, courage, and might. When he was invested with the sacred thread, and put under teachers, they were merely the occasions of his learning the sciences, which revealed themselves to him without effort. And whatever science or accomplishment he was seen to employ, was known by those, who understood it, to be possessed by him to the highest degree of excellence. And when people saw that prince fighting with heavenly weapons, they even began to pay less attention to the stories about the great archer Ráma and other heroes of the kind. And his father brought for him beautiful maidens, given by kings who had submitted after defeat, like so many goddesses of Fortune. Then his father, king Mahendráditya, seeing that his son was in the bloom of early manhood, of great valour, and beloved by the subjects, duly anointed him heir to his realm, and being himself old, retired with his wife and ministers to Váránasí, [740] and made the god Siva his refuge. And king Vikramáditya, having obtained that kingdom of his father, began in due course to blaze forth, as the sun, when it has occupied the sky. Even haughty kings, when they saw the string fitted into the notch of his bending bow, [741] learnt a lesson from that weapon, and bent likewise on every side. Of godlike dignity, having subdued to his sway even Vetálas, Rákshasas and other demons, he chastised righteously those that followed evil courses. The armies of that Vikramáditya roamed over the earth like the rays of the sun, shedding into every quarter the light of order. Though that king was a mighty hero, he dreaded the other world, though a brave warrior, he was not hard-handed, [742] though not uxorious, he was beloved by his wives. He was the father of all the fatherless, the friend of all the friendless, and the protector of all the unprotected among his subjects. Surely his glory furnished the Disposer with the material out of which he built up the White Island, the Sea of Milk, Mount Kailása, and the Himálayas. [743] And one day, as the king Vikramáditya was in the hall of assembly, the warder Bhadráyudha came in and said to him, "Your Majesty despatched Vikramasakti with an army to conquer the southern region and other territories, and then sent to him a messenger named Anangadeva; that messenger has now returned, and is at the gate with another, and his delighted face announces good tidings, my lord." The king said, "Let him enter," and then the warder respectfully introduced Anangadeva, with his companion. The messenger entered and bowed, and shouted "Victory" [744] and sat down in front of the king; and then the king said to him, "Is it well with king Vikramasakti, the general of my forces, and with Vyághrabala and the other kings? And does good fortune attend on the other chief Rájpúts in his army, and on the elephants, horses, chariots and footmen?" When Anangadeva had been thus questioned by the king, he answered, "It is well with Vikramasakti and the whole of the army. And Your Majesty has conquered the Dekkan and the western border, and Madhyadesa and Sauráshtra and all the eastern region of the Ganges; and the northern region and Kasmíra have been made tributary, and various forts and islands have been conquered, and the hosts of the Mlechchhas have been slain, and the rest have been reduced to submission, and various kings have entered the camp of Vikramasakti, and he himself is coming here with those kings, and is now, my lord, two or three marches off." When the messenger had thus told his tale, king Vikramáditya was pleased and loaded [745] him with garments, ornaments, and villages. Then the king went on to say to that noble messenger, "Anangadeva, when you went there, what regions did you see, and what object of interest did you meet with anywhere? Tell me, my good fellow!" When Anangadeva had been thus questioned by the king, he began to recount his adventures, as follows:-- The adventures of Anangadeva. Having set out hence by Your Majesty's orders, I reached in course of time that army of yours assembled under Vikramasakti, which was like a broad sea resorted to by allied kings, adorned by many princes of the Nágas that had come together with horses and royal magnificence. [746] And when I arrived there, that Vikramasakti bowed before me, and treated me with great respect, because I had been sent by his sovereign; and while I was there considering the nature of the triumphs he had gained, a messenger from the king of Sinhala [747] came there. And that messenger, who had come from Sinhala, told to Vikramasakti in my presence his master's message as follows, "I have been told by messengers, who have been sent by me to your sovereign and have returned, that your sovereign's very heart Anangadeva is with you, so send him to me quickly, I will reveal to him a certain auspicious affair, that concerns your king." Then Vikramasakti said to me, "Go quickly to the king of Sinhala; and see what he wishes to say to you when he has you before him." Then I went through the sea in a ship to the island of Sinhala with that king of Sinhala's ambassador. And in that island I saw a palace all made of gold, with terraces of various jewels, like the city of the gods. And in it I saw that king of Sinhala, Vírasena, surrounded by obedient ministers, as Indra is by the gods. When I approached him, he received me politely, and asked me about Your Majesty's health, and then he refreshed me with most sumptuous hospitality. The next day the king summoned me, when he was in his hall of audience; and showing his devotion to you, said to me in the presence of his ministers, "I have a maiden daughter, the peerless beauty of the world of mortals, Madanalekhá by name, and I offer her to your king. She is a fitting wife for him, and he is a suitable husband for her; for this reason I have invited you; so accept her in the name of your king. [748] And go on in front with my ambassador to tell your master; I will send my daughter here close after you." When the king had said this, he summoned into that hall his daughter whose load of ornaments was adorned by her graceful shape, loveliness, and youth. And he made her sit on his lap, and shewing her, said to me, "I offer this girl to your master, receive her." And when I saw that princess, I was astonished at her beauty, and I said joyfully, "I accept this maiden on behalf of my sovereign," and I thought to myself, "Well, the Creator is never tired of producing marvels, since even after creating Tilottamá, he has produced this far superior beauty." Then, having been honoured by that king, I set forth from that island, with this ambassador of his, Dhavalasena. So we embarked on a ship, and as we were sailing along in it, through the sea, we suddenly saw a great sandbank in the middle of the ocean. And on it we saw two maidens of singular beauty; one had a body as dark as priyangu, the other gleamed white like the moon, and they both looked more splendid from having put on dresses and ornaments suited to their respective hues. They made a sound like the clashing of cymbals with their bracelets adorned with splendid gems, and they were making a young toy-deer, which, though of gold and studded with jewels to represent spots, possessed life, dance in front of them. [749] When we saw this, we were astonished and we said to one another, "What can this wonder mean? Is it a dream, magic, or delusion? Who would ever expect to see a sandbank suddenly start up in the middle of the ocean, or such maidens upon it? And who would ever have thought of seeing such a thing as this living golden deer studded with jewels, which they possess? Such things are not usually found together." While we were saying this to one another, king, in the greatest astonishment, a wind suddenly began to blow, tossing up the sea. That wind broke up our ship, which was resting on the surging waves, and the people in it were whelmed in the sea, and the sea-monsters began to devour them. But those two maidens came and supported both of us in their arms, and lifted us up and carried us to the sandbank, so that we escaped the jaws of the sea-monsters. And then that bank began to be covered with waves, at which we were terrified, but those two ladies cheered us, and made us enter what seemed like the interior of a cave. There we began to look at a heavenly wood of various trees, and while we were looking at it, the sea disappeared, and the bank, and the young deer, and the maidens. We wandered about there for a time, saying to ourselves, "What is this strange thing? It is assuredly some magic." And then we saw there a great lake, transparent, deep, and broad, like the heart of great men, looking like a material representation of Nirvána that allays the fire of desire. [750] And we saw a certain beautiful woman, coming to bathe in it, accompanied by her train, looking like an incarnation of the beauty of the wood. And that lady alighted from her covered chariot, [751] and gathered lotuses in that lake, and bathed in it, and meditated on Siva. And thereupon, to our astonishment, Siva arose from the lake, a present god, in the form of a linga, composed of splendid jewels, and came near her; and that fair one worshipped him with various luxuries suited to her majesty, and then took her lyre. And she played upon it, singing skilfully to it with rapt devotion, following the southern style in respect of notes, time, and words. So splendid was her performance that even the Siddhas and other beings appeared there in the air, having their hearts attracted by hearing it, and remained motionless as if painted. And after she had finished her music, [752] she dismissed the god, and he immediately sank in the lake. Then the gazelle-eyed lady rose up, and mounted her chariot, and proceeded to go away slowly with her train. We followed her, and eagerly asked her train over and over again, who she was, but none of them gave us any answer. Then, wishing to shew that ambassador of the king of Sinhala your might, I said to her aloud, "Auspicious one, I adjure thee by the touch of king Vikramáditya's feet, that thou depart not hence without revealing to me who thou art." When the lady heard this, she made her train retire, and alighted from her chariot, and coming up to me, she said with a gentle voice, "Is my lord the noble king Vikramáditya well? But why do I ask, Anangadeva, since I know all about him? For I exerted magic power, and brought you here for the sake of that king, for I must honour him, as he delivered me from a great danger. So come to my palace; there I will tell you all, who I am, and why I ought to honour that king, and what service he needs to have done him." When she had said this, having left her chariot out of courtesy, that fair one went along the path on foot and respectfully conducted me to her castle, which looked like heaven; it was built of various jewels and different kinds of gold; its gates were guarded on every side by brave warriors wearing various forms, and bearing various weapons; and it was full of noble ladies of remarkable beauty, looking as if they were charms that drew down endless heavenly enjoyments. There she honoured us with baths, unguents, splendid dresses and ornaments, and made us rest for a time. CHAPTER CXXI. When Anangadeva had told this to king Vikramáditya in his hall of audience, he continued as follows:-- Then, after I had taken food, that lady, sitting in the midst of her attendants, said to me, "Listen, Anangadeva, I will now tell you all." Story of Madanamanjarí. I am Madanamanjarí, the daughter of Dundubhi the king of the Yakshas, and the wife of Manibhadra the brother of Kuvera. I used always to roam about happily with my husband on the banks of rivers, on hills, and in charming groves. And one day I went with my beloved to a garden in Ujjayiní called Makaranda to amuse myself. There it happened that in the dawn a low hypocritical scoundrel of a kápálika [753] saw me, when I had just woke up from a sleep brought on by the fatigue of roaming about. That rascal, being overcome with love, went into a cemetery, and proceeded to try and procure me for his wife by means of a spell, and a burnt-offering. But I by my power found out what he was about, and informed my husband; and he told his elder brother Kuvera. And Kuvera went and complained to Brahmá, and the holy Brahmá, after meditating, said to him, "It is true that kápálika intends to rob your brother of his wife, for such is the power of those spells for mastering Yakshas, which he possesses. But when she feels herself being drawn along by the spell, she must invoke the protection of king Vikramáditya; he will save her from him." Then Kuvera came and told this answer of Brahmá's to my husband, and my husband told it to me, whose mind was troubled by that wicked spell. And in the meanwhile that hypocritical kápálika, offering a burnt-offering in the cemetery, began to draw me to him by means of a spell, duly muttered in a circle. And I, being drawn by that spell, reached in an agony of terror that awful cemetery, full of bones and skulls, haunted by demons. And then I saw there that wicked kápálika: he had made an offering to the fire, and he had in a circle a corpse lying on its back, which he had been worshipping. And that kápálika, when he saw that I had arrived, was beside himself with pride, and with difficulty tore himself away to rinse his mouth in a river, which happened to be near. At that moment I called to mind what Brahmá had said, and I thought, "Why should I not call to the king for aid? He may be roaming about in the darkness somewhere near." When I had said this to myself, I called aloud for his help in the following words, "Deliver me, noble king Vikramáditya! See, protecting talisman of the world, this kápálika is bent on outraging by force, in your realm, me a chaste matron, the Yakshí Madanamanjarí by name, the daughter of Dundubhi, and the wife of Manibhadra the younger brother of Kuvera." No sooner had I finished this plaintive appeal, than I saw that king coming towards me, sword in hand; he seemed to be all resplendent with brightness of valour, and he said to me, "My good lady, do not fear; be at ease; I will deliver you from that kápálika, fair one. For who is able to work such unrighteousness in my realm?" When he had said this, he summoned a Vetála, named Agnisikha. And he, when summoned, came, tall, with flaming eyes, with upstanding hair; and said to the king, "Tell me what I am to do." Then the king said, "Kill and eat this wicked kápálika, who is trying to carry off his neighbour's wife." Then that Vetála Agnisikha entered the corpse that was in the circle of adoration, and rose up, and rushed forward, stretching out his arms and mouth. And when the kápálika, who had come back from rinsing his mouth, was preparing to fly, he seized him from behind by the legs; and he whirled him round in the air and then dashed him down with great force on the earth, and so at one blow crushed his body and his aspirations. When the demons saw the kápálika slain, they were all eager for flesh, and a fierce Vetála, named Yamasikha, came there. As soon as he came, he seized the body of the kápálika; then the first Vetála Agnisikha said to him, "Hear, villain! I have killed this kápálika by the order of king Vikramáditya; pray what have you to do with him?" When Yamasikha heard that, he said to him, "Then tell me, what kind of power has that king?" Then Agnisikha said, "If you do not know the nature of his power, listen, I will tell you." Story of the gambler Dágineya, who was too cunning for the Vetála Agnisikha, and of Agnisikha's submission to king Vikramáditya. There once lived in this city a very resolute gambler of the name of Dágineya. Once on a time some gamblers, by fraudulent play, won from him all he possessed, and then bound him in order to obtain from him the borrowed money which he had lost in addition. And as he had nothing, they beat him with sticks and other instruments of torture, [754] but he made himself like a stone, and seemed as rigid as a corpse. Then all those wicked gamblers took him and threw him into a large dark well, fearing that, if he lived, he might take vengeance on them. But that gambler Dágineya, when flung down into that very deep well, saw in front of him two great and terrible men. But they, when they saw him fall down terrified, said to him kindly, "Who are you, and how have you managed to fall into this deep well? Tell us!" Then the gambler recovered his spirits, and told them his story, and said to them "Do you also tell me who you are and whence you come." When those men, who were in the pit, heard that, they said, "Good Sir, we were Bráhman demons [755] dwelling in the cemetery belonging to this city, and we possessed two maidens in this very city; one was the daughter of the principal minister, the other of the chief merchant. And no conjurer on the earth, however powerful his spells, was able to deliver those maidens from us. "Then king Vikramáditya, who had an affection for their fathers, heard of it, and came to the place, where those maidens were with a friend of their fathers'. The moment we saw the king, we left the maidens, and tried to escape, but we were not able to do so, though we tried our utmost. We saw the whole horizon on fire with his splendour. Then that king, seeing us, bound us by his power. And seeing us unhappy, as we were afraid of being put to death, he gave us this order, 'Ye wicked ones, dwell for a year in a dark pit, and then ye shall be set at liberty. But when freed, ye must never again commit such a crime; if ye do, I will punish you with destruction.' After king Vishamasíla had given us this order, he had us flung into this dark pit; but out of mercy he did not destroy us. "And in eight more days the year will be completed, and with it the period during which we were to dwell in this cave, and we shall then be released from it. Now, friend, if you engage to supply us with some food during those days, we will lift you out of this pit, and set you down outside it; but if you do not, when lifted out, supply us with food according to your engagement, we will certainly, when we come out, devour you." When the Bráhman demons made this proposal to the gambler, he consented to it, and they put him out of the pit. When he got out of it, he went to the cemetery at night to deal in human flesh, as he saw no other chance of getting what he wanted. And I, happening to be there at that time, saw that gambler, who was crying out, "I have human flesh for sale; buy it somebody." Then I said, "I will take it off your hands; what price do you want for it?" And he answered, "Give me your shape and power." Then I said again to him, "My fine fellow, what will you do with them?" The gambler then told me his whole story, and said to me, "By means of your shape and power I will get hold of those enemies of mine, the gamblers, together with the keeper of the gambling-house, and will give them to the Bráhman demons to eat." When I heard that, I was pleased with the resolute spirit of that gambler, and gave him my shape and my power for a specified period of seven days. And by means of them he drew those men that had injured him into his power, one after another, and flung them into the pit, and fed the Bráhman demons on them during seven days. Then I took back from him my shape and power, and that gambler Dágineya, beside himself with fear, said to me, "I have not given those Bráhman demons any food this day, which is the eighth, so they will now come out and devour me. Tell me what I must do in this case, for you are my friend." When he said this, I, having got to like him from being thrown with him, said to him, "If this is the case, since you have made those two demons devour the gamblers, I for your sake will in turn eat the demons. So shew them to me, my friend." When I made the gambler this offer, he at once jumped at it, and took me to the pit where the demons were. I, suspecting nothing, bent my head down to look into the pit, and while I was thus engaged, the gambler put his hand on the back of my neck, and pushed me into it. When I fell into it, the demons took me for some one sent for them to eat, and laid hold of me, and I had a wrestling-match with them. When they found that they could not overcome the might of my arms, they desisted from the struggle, and asked me who I was. Then I told them my own story from the point where my fortunes became involved with those of Dágineya, [756] and they made friends with me, and said to me, "Alas! What a trick that evil-minded gambler has played you, and us two, and those other gamblers! But what confidence can be placed in gamblers, who profess exclusively the science of cheating, whose minds are proof against friendship, pity, and gratitude for a benefit received? Recklessness and disregard of all ties are ingrained in the nature of gamblers; hear in illustration of this the story of Thinthákarála." Story of Thinthákarála the bold gambler. Long ago there lived in this very city of Ujjayiní a ruffianly gambler, who was rightly named Thinthákarála. [757] He lost perpetually, and the others, who won in the game, used to give him every day a hundred cowries. With those he bought wheat-flour from the market, and in the evening made cakes by kneading them somewhere or other in a pot with water, and then he went and cooked them in the flame of a funeral pyre in the cemetery, and ate them in front of Mahákála, smearing them with the grease from the lamp burning before him: and he always slept at night on the ground in the court of the same god's temple, pillowing his head on his arm. Now, one night, he saw the images of all the Mothers and of the Yakshas and other divine beings in the temple of Mahákála trembling from the proximity of spells, and this thought arose in his bosom, "Why should I not employ an artful device here to obtain wealth? If it succeeds, well and good; if it does not succeed, wherein am I the worse?" When he had gone through these reflections, he challenged those deities to play, saying to them, "Come now, I will have a game with you, and I will act as keeper of the gaming-table, and will fling the dice; and mind, you must always pay up what you lose." When he said this to the deities they remained silent; so Thinthákarála staked some spotted cowries, and flung the dice. For this is the universally accepted rule among gamblers, that, if a gambler does not object to the dice being thrown, he agrees to play. Then, having won much gold, he said to the deities, "Pay me the money I have won, as you agreed to do." But though the gambler said this to the deities over and over again, they made no answer. Then he flew in a passion and said to them, "If you remain silent, I will adopt with you the same course as is usually adopted with a gambler, who will not pay the money he has lost, but makes himself as stiff as a stone. [758] I will simply saw through your limbs with a saw as sharp as the points of Yama's teeth, for I have no respect for anything." When he had said this, he ran towards them, saw in hand; and the deities immediately paid him the gold he had won. Next morning he lost it all at play, and in the evening he came back again, and extorted more money from the Mothers in the same way by making them play with him. He went on doing this every day, and those deities, the Mothers, were in very low spirits about it; then the goddess Chámundá said to them, "Whoever, when invited to gamble, says 'I sit out of this game' cannot be forced to play; this is the universal convention among gamblers, ye Mother deities. So when he invites you, say this to him, and so baffle him." When Chámundá had said this to the Mothers, they laid her advice up in their minds. And when the gambler came at night and invited them to play with him, all the goddesses said with one accord "We sit out of this game." When Thinthákarála had been thus repulsed by those goddesses, he invited their sovereign Mahákála himself to play. But that god, thinking that the fellow had taken this opportunity of trying to force him to gamble, said, "I sit out of this game." Even gods, you see, like feeble persons, are afraid of a thoroughly self-indulgent, ruffianly scoundrel, flushed with impunity. Then that Thinthákarála, being depressed at finding his gambler's artifice baffled by a knowledge of the etiquette of play, was disgusted, and said to himself, "Alas! I am baffled by these deities through their learning the conventions of gamblers; so I must now flee for refuge to this very sovereign of the gods." Having formed this resolution in his heart, Thinthákarála embraced the feet of Mahákála, and praising him, addressed to him the following petition; "I adore thee that sittest naked [759] with thy head resting on thy knee; thy moon, thy bull, and thy elephant-skin having been won at play by Deví. When the gods give all powers at thy mere desire, and when thou art free from longings, having for thy only possessions the matted lock, the ashes and the skull, how canst thou suddenly have become avaricious with regard to hapless me, in that thou desirest to disappoint me for so small a gain? Of a truth the wishing-tree no longer gratifies the hope of the poor, as thou dost not support me, lord Bhairava, though thou supportest the world. So, as I have fled to thee as a suppliant, holy Sthánu, with my mind pierced with grievous woe, thou oughtest even to pardon presumption in me. Thou hast three eyes, I have three dice, [760] so I am like thee in one respect; thou hast ashes on thy body, so have I; thou eatest from a skull, so do I; shew me mercy. When I have conversed with you gods, how can I afterwards bear to converse with gamblers? So deliver me from my calamity." With this and similar utterances the gambler praised that Bhairava, until at last the god was pleased, and manifesting himself, said to him, "Thinthákarála, I am pleased with thee; do not be despondent. Remain here with me; I will provide thee with enjoyments." In accordance with this command of the god's that gambler remained there, enjoying all kinds of luxuries provided by the favour of the deity. Now, one night, the god saw certain Apsarases, that had come to bathe in that holy pool of Mahákála, and he gave this command to Thinthákarála, "While all these nymphs of heaven are engaged in bathing, quickly snatch up the clothes, which they have laid on the bank, and bring them here; and do not give them back their garments, until they surrender to you this young nymph, named Kalávatí." [761] "When Thinthákarála had received this command from Bhairava, he went and carried off the garments of those heavenly beauties, while they were bathing; and they said to him, "Give us back our garments, please; do not leave us naked." But he answered them, confident in the power which Siva gave, "If you will give me the young nymph Kalávatí, I will give you back these garments, but not otherwise." When they heard that, seeing that he was a stubborn fellow to deal with, and remembering that Indra had pronounced a curse of this kind upon Kalávatí, they agreed to his demand. And on his giving back the garments, they bestowed on him, in due form, Kalávatí the daughter of Alambushá. Then the Apsarases departed, and Thinthákarála remained there with that Kalávatí in a house built by the wish of Siva. And Kalávatí went in the day to heaven to attend upon the king of the gods, but at night she always returned [762] to her husband. And one day she said to him in the ardour of her affection, "My dear, the curse of Siva, which enabled me to obtain you for a husband, has really proved a blessing." Thereupon her husband Thinthákarála asked her the cause of the curse, and the nymph Kalávatí thus answered him: "One day, when I had seen the gods in a garden, I praised the enjoyments of mortals, depreciating the pleasures of the dwellers in heaven, as giving joys that consist only in seeing. [763] When the king of the gods heard that, he cursed me, saying, 'Thou shalt go and be married by a mortal, and enjoy those human pleasures.' In this way has come about our union that is mutually agreeable. And to-morrow I shall return to heaven after a long absence; do not be unhappy about it; for Rambhá is going to dance a new piece before Vishnu, and I must remain there, my beloved, until the exhibition is at an end." Then Thinthákarála, whom love had made like a spoiled child, said to her, "I will go there and look at that dance unperceived, take me there." When Kalávatí heard that, she said, "How is it fitting for me to do this? The king of the gods might be angry, if he found it out." Though she said this to him, he continued to press her; then out of love she agreed to take him there. So the next morning Kalávatí by her power concealed Thinthákarála in a lotus, which she placed as an ornament in her ear, and took him to the palace of Indra. When Thinthákarála saw that palace, the doors of which were adorned by the elephant of the gods, which was set off by the garden of Nandana, he thought himself a god, and was highly delighted. And in the court of Indra, frequented by gods, he beheld the strange and delightful spectacle of Rambhá's dance, accompanied by the singing of all the nymphs of heaven. And he heard all the musical instruments played by Nárada and the other minstrels; for what is hard to obtain in this world if the supreme god [764] is favourable to one? Then, at the end of the exhibition a mime, in the shape of a divine goat, rose up, and began to dance with heavenly [765] movements. And Thinthákarála, when he saw him, recognized him, and said to himself, "Why, I see this goat in Ujjayiní, figuring as a mere animal, and here he is dancing as a mime before Indra. Of a truth this must be some strange incomprehensible heavenly delusion." While Thinthákarála was going through these reflections in his mind, the dance of the goat-mime came to an end, and then Indra returned to his own place. And then Kalávatí, in high spirits, also took back Thinthákarála to his own home, concealed in the lotus-ornament of her ear. And the next day Thinthákarála beheld in Ujjayiní that goat-formed mime of the gods, who had returned there, and he insolently said to him, "Come, dance before me, as you dance before Indra. If you do not, I shall be angry with you; show off your dancing powers, you mime." When the goat heard this, he was astonished, and remained silent, saying to himself, "How can this mere mortal know so much about me?" But when, in spite of persistent entreaties, the goat refused to dance, Thinthákarála beat him on the head with sticks. Then the goat went with bleeding head to Indra, and told him all that had taken place. And Indra by his supernatural powers of contemplation discovered the whole secret, how Kalávatí had brought Thinthákarála to heaven when Rambhá was dancing, and how that profane fellow had there seen the goat dancing. Then Indra summoned Kalávatí, and pronounced on her the following curse, "Since, out of love, thou didst secretly bring here the man who has reduced the goat to this state, to make him dance, depart and become an image on a pillar in the temple built by king Narasinha in the city of Nágapura." When Indra had said this, Alambushá, the mother of Kalávatí, tried to appease him, and at last he was with difficulty appeased, and he thus fixed an end to the curse, "When that temple, which it has taken many years to complete, shall perish and be levelled with the ground, then shall her curse come to an end." So Kalávatí came weeping and told to Thinthákarála the curse Indra had pronounced, together with the end he had appointed to it, and how he himself was to blame, and then, after giving him her ornaments, she entered into an image on the front of a pillar in the temple in Nágapura. Thinthákarála for his part, smitten with the poison of separation from her, could neither hear nor see, but rolled swooning on the ground. And when that gambler came to his senses, he uttered this lament, "Alas! fool that I was, I revealed the secret, though I knew better all the time; for how can people like myself, who are by nature thoughtless, shew self-restraint? So now this intolerable separation has fallen to my lot." However in a moment he said to himself, "This is no time for me to despond; why should I not recover firmness and strive to put an end to her curse?" After going through these reflections, the cunning fellow thought carefully over the matter, and assuming the dress of a mendicant devotee, went with rosary, antelope-skin, and matted hair, to Nágapura. There he secretly buried in a forest outside the city, four pitchers containing his wife's ornaments, one towards each of the cardinal points; and one full of sets of the five precious things [766] he deliberately buried within the city, in the earth of the market-place, in front of the god himself. When he had done this, he built a hut on the bank of the river, and remained there, affecting a hypocritical asceticism, pretending to be meditating and muttering. And by bathing three times in the day, and eating only the food given him as alms, after washing it with water on a stone, he acquired the character of a very holy man. In course of time his fame reached the ears of the king, and the king often invited him, but he never went near him: so the king came to see him, and remained a long time in conversation with him. And in the evening, when the king was preparing to depart, a female jackal suddenly uttered a yell at a distance. When the cunning gambler, who was passing himself off as an ascetic, heard that, he laughed. And when the king asked him the meaning of the laugh, he said, "Oh! never mind." But when the king went on persistently questioning him, the deceitful fellow said, "In the forest to the east of this city, under a ratan, there is a pitcher full of jewelled ornaments; so take it. This, king, is what that female jackal told me, for I understand the language of animals." Then the king was full of curiosity: so the ascetic took him to the spot, and dug up the earth, and took out that pitcher, and gave it to him. Then the king, having obtained the ornaments, began to have faith in the ascetic, and considered that he not only possessed supernatural knowledge but was a truthful and unselfish devotee. So he conducted him to his cell, and prostrated himself at his feet again and again, and returned to his palace at night with his ministers, praising his virtues. In the same way, when the king again came to him, the ascetic pretended to understand the cry of an animal, and in this way made over to the king the other three pitchers, buried towards the other three cardinal points. Then the king, and the citizens, and the king's wives became exclusively devoted to the ascetic, and were, so to speak, quite absorbed in him. Now, one day, the king took that wicked ascetic to the temple for a moment; so he contrived to hear in the market-place the cry of a crow. Then he said to the king, "Did you hear what the crow said? 'In this very market-place there is a pitcher full of valuable jewels buried in front of the god: why do you not take it up also?' This was the meaning of his cry; so come, and take possession of it." When the deceitful ascetic had said this, he conducted him there, and took up out of the earth the pitcher full of valuable jewels, and gave it to the king. Then the king, in his excessive satisfaction, entered the temple holding that pretended seer by the hand. There the mendicant brushed against that image on the pillar, which his beloved Kalávatí had entered, and saw her. And Kalávatí, wearing the form of the image on the pillar, was afflicted when she saw her husband, and began to weep then and there. When the king and his attendants saw this, they were amazed, and cast down, and said to that pretended seer, "Reverend Sir, what is the meaning of this?" Then the cunning rascal, pretending to be despondent and bewildered, said to the king, "Come to your palace: there I will tell you this secret, though it is almost too terrible to be revealed." When he had said this, he led the king to the palace, and said to him, "Since you built this temple on an unlucky spot and in an inauspicious moment, on the third day from now a misfortune will befall you. It was for this reason that the image on the pillar wept when she saw you. So, if you care for your body's weal, my sovereign, take this into consideration, and this very day quickly level this temple with the earth; and build another temple somewhere else, on a lucky spot, and in an auspicious moment. Let the evil omen be averted, and ensure the prosperity of yourself and your kingdom." When he had said this to the king, he, in his terror, gave command to his subjects, and in one day levelled that temple with the earth, and he began to build another temple in another place. So true is it that rogues with their tricks gain the confidence of princes, and impose upon them. Accordingly, the gambler Thinthákarála, having gained his object, abandoned the disguise of a mendicant, and fled, and went to Ujjayiní. And Kalávatí, finding it out, went to meet him on the road, freed from her curse and happy, and she comforted him, and then went to heaven to visit Indra. And Indra was astonished, but when he heard from her mouth the artifice of her husband the gambler, he laughed and was highly delighted. Then Vrihaspati, who was at his side, said to Indra, "Gamblers are always like this, abounding in every kind of trickery." Story of the gambler who cheated Yama. [767] For instance, in a previous kalpa there was in a certain city a gambler, of the name of Kuttaníkapata, accomplished in dishonest play. When he went to the other world, Indra said to him, "Gambler, you will have to live a kalpa in hell on account of your crimes, but owing to your charity you are to be Indra for one day, for once on a time you gave a gold coin to a knower of the Supreme Soul. So say, whether you will take out first your period in hell or your period as Indra." When the gambler heard that, be said, "I will take out first my period as Indra." Then Yama sent the gambler to heaven, and the gods deposed Indra for a day, and crowned him sovereign in his stead. He, having obtained sovereign sway, summoned to heaven the gamblers his friends and his female favourites, and in virtue of his regal authority gave this order to the gods, "Carry us all in a moment to all the holy bathing-places, [768] those in heaven, and those on earth, and those in the seven dvípas: and enter this very day into all the kings on the earth, and bestow without ceasing, great, gifts for our benefit." When he gave this order to the gods, they did everything as he had desired, and by means of those holy observances his sins were washed [769] away, and he obtained the rank of Indra permanently. And by his favour his friends and his female favourites, that he had summoned to heaven, had their sins destroyed and obtained immortality. The next day Chitragupta informed Yama that the gambler had by his discretion obtained the rank of Indra permanently. Then Yama, hearing of his meritorious actions, was astonished, and said, "Dear me! this gambler has cheated us." When Vrihaspati had told this story, he said, "Such, O wielder of the thunderbolt, are gamblers," and then held his peace. And then Indra sent Kalávatí to summon Thinthákarála to heaven. There the king of the gods, pleased with his cleverness and resolution, honoured him, and gave him Kalávatí to wife, and made him an attendant on himself. Then the brave Thinthákarála lived happily, like a god, in heaven, with Kalávatí, by the favour of Siva. "So, you see, such is the style in which gamblers exhibit their treachery and audacity; accordingly Agnisikha the Vampire, what is there to be surprised at in your having been treacherously thrown into this well by Dágineya the gambler? So come out of this pit, friend, and we will come out also." When the Bráhman demons said this to me, I came up out of that pit, and being hungry, I came across a Bráhman traveller that night in the city. So I rushed forward and seized that Bráhman to eat him, but he invoked the protection of king Vikramáditya. And the moment the king heard his cry, he rushed out like flame, and while still at a distance, checked me by exclaiming "Ah villain! do not kill the Bráhman:" and then he proceeded to cut off the head of a figure of a man he had drawn; that did not sever my neck, but made it stream with blood. Then I left the Bráhman and clung to the king's feet, and he spared my life. "Such is the power of that god, king Vikramáditya. And it is by his orders that I have slain this hypocritical kápálika. So he is my proper prey, to be devoured by me as being a Vetála; let him go, Yamasikha!" Though Agnisikha made this appeal to Yamasikha, the latter proceeded contumaciously to drag with his hand the corpse of that hypocritical kápálika. Then king Vikramáditya appeared there, and drew the figure of a man on the earth and then cut off its hand with his sword. That made the hand of Yamasikha fall severed; so he left the corpse, and fled in fear. And Agnisikha immediately devoured the corpse of that kápálika. And I witnessed all this, securely protected by the might of the king. [770] "In these words did that wife of the Yaksha, Madanamanjarí by name, describe your power, O king, and then she went on to say to me." Then, Anangadeva, the king said to me in a gentle voice, "Yakshí, being delivered from the kápálika, go to the house of your husband." Then I bowed before him, and returned to this my own home, thinking how I might repay to that king the benefit he had conferred on me. In this way your master gave me life, family and husband; and when you tell him this story of mine, it will agree with his own recollections. Moreover, I have to-day found out that the king of Sinhala has sent to that king his daughter, the greatest beauty in the three worlds, who has of her own accord elected to marry him. And all the kings, being jealous, have gathered themselves together and formed the intention of killing Vikramasakti, and the dependent kings, [771] and of carrying off that maiden. So, do you go, and make known that their intention to Vikramasakti, in order that he may be on his guard and ready to repel their attack. And I will exert myself to enable king Vikramáditya to conquer those enemies and gain the victory. "For this reason I brought you here by my own deluding power, in order that you might tell all this to king Vikramasakti and the dependent monarchs; and I will send to your sovereign such a present as shall to a certain small extent be a requital for the benefit that he conferred on me." While she was saying this, the two maidens, that we had seen in the sea, came there with the deer; one had a body white as the moon, the other was dark as a priyangu; so they seemed like Gangá and Yamuná returned from worshipping the ocean, the monarch of rivers. When they had sat down, I put this question to the Yakshí, "Goddess, who are these maidens, and what is the meaning of this golden deer?" When the Yakshiní heard this, king, she said to me, "Anangadeva, if you feel any curiosity about the matter, listen, I will tell you." Story of Ghanta and Nighanta and the two maidens. Long ago there came to impede Prajápati, in his creation of creatures, two terrible Dánavas, named Ghanta and Nighanta, invincible even by gods. And the Creator, being desirous of destroying them, created these two maidens, the splendour of whose measureless beauty seemed capable of maddening the world. And those two mighty Asuras, when they saw these two exceedingly wonderful maidens, tried to carry them off; and fighting with one another, they both of them met their death. [772] Then Brahmá bestowed these maidens on Kuvera, saying, "You must give these girls to some suitable husband;" and Kuvera made them over to my husband, who is his younger brother; and in the same way my husband passed these fair ones [773] on to me; and I have thought of king Vikramáditya as a husband for them, for, as he is an incarnation of a god, he is a fit person for them to marry. "Such are the facts with regard to these maidens, now hear the history of the deer." Story of the golden deer. Indra has a beloved son, named Jayanta. Once on a time, when he, still an infant, was being carried about in the air by the celestial nymphs, he saw some princes in a wood on earth playing with some young deer. Then Jayanta [774] went to heaven, and cried in the presence of his father because he had not got a deer to play with, as a child would naturally do. Accordingly Indra had a deer made for him by Visvakarman of gold and jewels, and life was given to the animal by sprinkling it with nectar. Then Jayanta played with it, and was delighted with it, and the young deer was continually roaming about in heaven. In course of time that son of Rávana, who was rightly named Indrajit, [775] carried off the young deer from heaven and took it to his own city Lanká. And after a further period had elapsed, Rávana and Indrajit having been slain by the heroes Ráma and Lakshmana, to avenge the carrying off of Sítá, and Vibhíshana having been set upon the throne of Lanká, as king of the Rákshasas, that wonderful deer of gold and jewels remained in his palace. And once on a time, when I was taken by my husband's relations to Vibhíshana's palace on the occasion of a festival, he gave me the deer as a complimentary present. And that young heaven-born deer is now in my house, and I must bestow it on your master. And while the Yakshiní was telling me this string of tales, the sun, the friend of the kamaliní, went to rest. Then I and the ambassador of the king of Sinhala went to sleep, both of us, after the evening ceremonies, in a palace which the Yakshiní assigned to us. In the morning we woke up and saw, my sovereign, that the army of Vikramasakti, your vassal, had arrived. We reflected that that must be a display of the Yakshiní's power, and quickly went wondering into the presence of Vikramasakti. And he, as soon as he saw us, showed us great honour, and asked after our welfare; and was on the point of asking us what message the king of Sinhala had sent, when the two heavenly maidens, whose history the Yakshiní had related to us, and the young deer arrived there, escorted by the army of the Yakshas. When king Vikramasakti saw this, he suspected some glamour of malignant demons, and he said to me apprehensively "What is the meaning of this?" Then I told him in due course the commission of the king of Sinhala, and the circumstances connected with the Yakshiní, the two maidens, and the deer. Moreover I informed him of the hostile scheme of your majesty's enemies, which was to be carried out by all the kings in combination, and which I had heard of from the Yakshí. Then Vikramasakti honoured us two ambassadors, and those two heavenly maidens; and being delighted made his army ready for battle with the assistance of the other vassal kings. And immediately, king, there was heard in the army the loud beating of drums, and immediately there was seen the mighty host of hostile kings, accompanied by the Mlechchhas. Then our army and the hostile army, furious at beholding one another, closed with a rush, and the battle began. Thereupon some of the Yakshas sent by the Yakshí entered our soldiers, and so smote the army of the enemies, and others smote them in open fight. [776] And there arose a terrible tempest of battle, overspread with a cloud formed of the dust raised by the army, in which sword-blades fell thick as rain, and the shouts of heroes thundered. And the heads of our enemies flying up, as they were cut off, and falling again, made it seem as if the Fortune of our victory were playing at ball. And in a moment those kings that had escaped the slaughter, their troops having been routed, submitted and repaired for protection to the camp of your vassal. Then, lord of earth, as you had conquered the four cardinal points and the dvípas, and had destroyed all the Mlechchhas, that Yakshiní appeared, accompanied by her husband, and said to king Vikramasakti and to me, "You must tell your master that what I have done has been done merely by way of service to him, and you must also request him, as from me, to marry these two god-framed maidens, and to look upon them with favour, and to cherish this deer also, for it is a present from me." When the Yakshí had said this, she bestowed a heap of jewels, and disappeared with her husband, and her attendants. The next day, Madanalekhá, the daughter of the king of Sinhala, came with a great retinue and much magnificence. And then Vikramasakti went to meet her, and bending low, joyfully conducted her into his camp. And on the second day Vikramasakti, having accomplished his object, set out with the other kings from that place, in order to come here and behold your Majesty's feet, bringing with him that princess and the two heavenly maidens, and that deer composed of gold and jewels, a marvel for the eyes of the three worlds. And now, sovereign, that vassal prince has arrived near this city, and has sent us two on in front to inform Your Highness. So let the king, out of regard for the lord of Sinhala and the Yakshí, go forth to meet those maidens and the deer, and also the subject kings. When Anangadeva had said this to king Vikramáditya, though the king recollected accomplishing that difficult rescue of the Yakshiní, he did not consider it worth a straw, when he heard of the return she had made for it; great-souled men, even when they have done much, think it worth very little. And, being much pleased, he loaded [777] Anangadeva for the second time, with elephants, horses, villages, and jewels, and bestowed similar gifts on the ambassador of the king of Sinhala. And after he had spent that day, the king set out from Ujjayiní, with his warriors mounted on elephants and horses, to meet that daughter of the king of Sinhala, and those two maidens created by Brahmá. And the following speeches of the military officers, assigning elephants and horses, were heard in the neighbourhood of the city when the kings started, and within the city itself when the sovereign started; "Jayavardhana must take the good elephant Anangagiri, and Ranabhata the furious elephant Kálamegha, and Sinhaparákrama Sangrámasiddhi, and the hero Vikramanidhi Ripurákshasa, and Jayaketu Pavanajava, and Vallabhasakti Samudrakallola, and Báhu and Subáhu the two horses Saravega and Garudavega, and Kírtivarman the black Konkan mare Kuvalayamálá, and Samarasinha the white mare Gangálaharí of pure Sindh breed." When that king, the supreme sovereign of all the dvípas, had started on his journey, the earth was covered with soldiers, the quarters were full of nothing but the shouts that they raised, even the heaven was obscured with the dust that was diffused by the trampling of his advancing army, and all men's voices were telling of the wonderful greatness of his might. CHAPTER CXXII. Then king Vikramáditya reached that victorious army commanded by that Vikramasakti his general, and he entered it at the head of his forces, accompanied by that general, who came to meet him, eager and with loyal mind, together with the vassal kings. The kings were thus announced by the warders in the tent of assembly, "Your Majesty, here is Saktikumára the king of Gauda come to pay you his respects, here is Jayadhvaja the king of Karnáta, here is Vijayavarman of Láta, here is Sunandana of Kasmíra, here is Gopála king of Sindh, here is Vindhyabala the Bhilla, and here is Nirmúka the king of the Persians." And when they had been thus announced, the king honoured them, and the feudal chiefs, and also the soldiers. And he welcomed in appropriate fashion the daughter of the king of Sinhala, and the heavenly maidens, and the golden deer, and Vikramasakti. And the next day the successful monarch Vikramáditya set out with them and his forces, and reached the city of Ujjayiní. Then, the kings having been dismissed with marks of honour [778] to their own territories, and the world-gladdening festival of the spring season having arrived, when the creepers began, so to speak, to adorn themselves with flowers for jewels, and the female bees to keep up a concert with their humming, and the ranges of the wood to dance embraced by the wind, and the cuckoos with melodious notes to utter auspicious prayers, king Vikramáditya married on a fortunate day that daughter of the king of Sinhala, and those two heavenly maidens. And Sinhavarman, the eldest brother of the princess of Sinhala, who had come with her, bestowed at the marriage-altar a great heap of jewels. And at that moment the Yakshiní Madanamanjarí appeared, and gave those two heavenly maidens countless heaps of jewels. The Yakshí said, "How can I ever, king, recompense you for your benefits? But I have done this unimportant service to testify my devotion to you. So you must shew favour to these maidens, and to the deer." When the Yakshí had said this, she departed honoured by the king. Then the successful king Vikramáditya, having obtained those wives and the earth with all its dvípas, ruled a realm void of opponents; and he enjoyed himself roaming in all the garden grounds; during the hot season living in the water of tanks and in artificial fountain-chambers, during the rains in inner apartments charming on account of the noise of cymbals that arose in them, during the autumn on the tops of palaces, joyous with banquets under the rising moon, during the winter in chambers where comfortable couches were spread, and which were fragrant with black aloes, being ever surrounded by his wives. Story of Malayavatí the man-hating maiden. Now this king, being such as I have described, had a painter named Nagarasvámin, who enjoyed the revenues of a hundred villages, and surpassed Visvakarman. That painter used every two or three days to paint a picture of a girl, and give it as a present to the king, taking care to exemplify different types of beauty. Now, once on a time, it happened that that painter had, because a feast was going on, forgotten to paint the required girl for the king. And when the day for giving the present arrived, the painter remembered and was bewildered, saying to himself, "Alas! what can I give to the king?" And at that moment a traveller come from afar suddenly approached him and placed a book in his hand, and went off somewhere quickly. The painter out of curiosity opened the book, and saw within a picture of a girl on canvas. Inasmuch as the girl was of wonderful beauty, no sooner did he see her picture then he took it and gave it to the king, rejoicing that, so far from having no picture to present that day, he had obtained such an exceedingly beautiful one. But the king, as soon as he saw it, was astonished, and said to him, "My good fellow, this is not your painting, this is the painting of Visvakarman: for how could a mere mortal be skilful enough to paint such beauty?" When the painter heard this, he told the king exactly what had taken place. Then the king kept ever looking at the picture of the girl, and never took his eyes off it, and one night he saw in a dream a girl exactly like her, but in another dvípa. But as he eagerly rushed to embrace her, who was eager to meet him, the night came to an end, and he was woke up by the watchman. [779] When the king awoke, he was so angry at the interruption of his delightful interview with that maiden, that he banished that watchman from the city. And he said to himself, "To think that a traveller should bring a book, and that in it there should be the painted figure of a girl, and that I should in a dream behold this same girl apparently alive! All this elaborate dispensation of destiny makes me think that she must be a real maiden, but I do not know in what dvípa she lives; how am I to obtain her?" Full of such reflections, the king took pleasure in nothing, [780] and burnt with the fever of love so that his attendants were full of anxiety. And the warder Bhadráyudha asked the afflicted king in private the cause of his grief, whereupon he spake as follows: "Listen, I will tell you, my friend. So much at any rate you know, that that painter gave me the picture of a girl. And I fell asleep thinking on her, and I remember that in my dream I crossed the sea, and reached and entered a very beautiful city. There I saw many armed maidens in front of me, and they, as soon as they saw me, raised a tumultuous cry of 'Kill, kill.' [781] Then a certain female ascetic came and with great precipitation made me enter her house, and briefly said to me this, 'My son, here is the man-hating princess Malayavatí come this way, diverting herself as she pleases. And the moment she sees a man, she makes these maidens of hers kill him: so I brought you in here to save your life.' [782] "When the female ascetic had said this, she immediately made me put on female attire; and I submitted to that, knowing that it was not lawful to slay those maidens. But, when the princess entered into the house with her maidens, I looked at her, and lo! she was the very lady that had been shewn me in a picture. And I said to myself, 'Fortunate am I in that, after first seeing this lady in a picture, I now behold her again in flesh and blood, dear as my life.' "In the meanwhile the princess, at the head of her maidens, said to that female ascetic, 'We saw some male enter here.' The ascetic shewed me, and answered, 'I know of no male; here is my sister's daughter, who is with me as a guest.' Then the princess seeing me, although I was disguised as a woman, forgot her dislike of men, and was at once overcome by love. She remained for a moment, with every hair on her body erect, motionless as if in thought, being, so to speak, nailed to the spot at once with arrows by Love, who had spied his opportunity. And in a moment the princess said to the ascetic, 'Then, noble lady, why should not your sister's daughter be my guest also? Let her come to my palace; I will send her back duly honoured.' Saying this, she took me by the hand, and led me away to her palace. And I remember, I discerned her intention, and consented, and went there, and that sly old female ascetic gave me leave to depart. "Then I remained there with that princess, who was diverting herself with the amusement of marrying her maidens to one another, and so forth. Her eyes were fixed on me, and she would not let me out of her sight for an instant, and no occupation pleased her in which I did not take part. Then those maidens, I remember, made the princess a bride, and me her husband, and married us in sport. And when we had been married, we entered at night the bridal chamber, and the princess fearlessly threw her arms round my neck. And then I told her who I was, and embraced her, and delighted at having attained her object, she looked at me and then remained a long time with her eyes bashfully fixed on the ground. And at that moment that villain of a watchman woke me up. So, Bhadráyudha, the upshot of the whole matter is that I can no longer live without that Malayavatí, whom I have seen in a picture and in a dream." When the king said this, the warder Bhadráyudha perceived that it was a true dream, and he consoled the monarch, and said to him, "If the king remembers it all exactly, let him draw that city on a piece of canvas in order that some expedient may be devised in this matter." The moment the king heard this suggestion of Bhadráyudha's, he proceeded to draw that splendid city on a piece of canvas, and all the scene that took place there. Then the warder at once took the drawing, and had a new monastery [783] made, and hung it up there on the wall. And he directed that in relief-houses attached to the monastery, a quantity of food, with pairs of garments and gold, should be given to bards coming from distant countries. And he gave this order to the dwellers in the monastery, "If any one comes here, who knows the city represented here in a picture, let me be informed of it." In the meanwhile the fierce elephant of the rainy season with irresistible loud deep thunder-roar and long ketaka tusks came down upon the forest of the heats, a forest the breezes of which were scented with the perfume of the jasmine, in which travellers sat down on the ground in the shade, and trumpet-flowers bloomed. At that time the forest-fire of separation of that king Vikramáditya began to burn more fiercely, fanned by the eastern breeze. [784] Then the following cries were heard among the ladies of his court, "Háralatá, bring ice! Chitrángí, sprinkle him with sandal-wood juice! Patralekhá, make a bed cool with lotus-leaves! Kandarpasená, fan him with plantain-leaves!" And in course of time the cloudy season terrible with lightning passed away for that king, but the fever of love burning [785] with the sorrow of separation did not pass away. Then the autumn with her open lotus-face, and smile of unclosed flowers, came, vocal with the cries of swans, [786] seeming to utter this command, "Let travellers advance on their journey; let pleasant tidings be brought about absent dear ones; happy may their merry meetings be!" On a certain day in that season a bard, who had come from a distance, of the name of Sanvarasiddhi, having heard the fame of that monastery, built by the warder, entered it to get food. After he had been fed, and presented with a pair of garments, he saw that painting on the wall of the monastery. When the bard had carefully scanned the city delineated there, he was astonished, and said, "I wonder who can have drawn this city? For I alone have seen it, I am certain, and no other; and here it is drawn by some second person." When the inhabitants of the monastery heard that, they told Bhadráyudha; then he came in person, and took that bard to the king. The king said to Sanvarasiddhi, "Have you really seen that city?" Then Sanvarasiddhi gave him the following answer. "When I was wandering about the world, I crossed the sea that separates the dvípas, and beheld that great city Malayapura. In that city there dwells a king of the name of Malayasinha, and he has a matchless daughter, named Malayavatí, who used to abhor males. But one night she somehow or other saw in a dream a great hero in a convent. [787] The moment she saw him, that evil spirit of detestation of the male sex fled from her mind, as if terrified. Then she took him to her palace, and in her dream married him, and entered with him the bridal chamber. And at that moment the night came to an end, and an attendant in her room woke her up. Then she banished that servant in her anger, and thinking upon that dear one, whom she had seen in her dream, seeing no way of escape owing to the blazing fire of separation, utterly overpowered by love, she never rose from her couch except to fall back upon it again with relaxed limbs. She was dumb, as if possessed by a demon, as if stunned by a blow, [788] for when her attendants questioned her, she gave them no answer. "Then her father and mother came to hear of it, and questioned her; and at last she was, with exceeding difficulty, persuaded to tell them what happened to her in the dream, by the mouth of a confidential female friend. Then her father comforted her, but she made a solemn vow that, if she did not obtain her beloved in six months, she would enter the fire. And already five months are past; who knows what will become of her? This is the story that I heard about her in that city." When Sanvarasiddhi had told this story, which tallied so well with the king's own dream, the king was pleased at knowing the certainty of the matter, and Bhadráyudha said to him, "The business is as good as effected, for that king and his country own your paramount supremacy. So let us go there before the sixth month has passed away." When the warder had said this, king Vikramáditya made him inform Sanvarasiddhi of all the circumstances connected with the matter, and honoured him with a present of much wealth, and bade him shew him the way, and then he seemed to bequeath his own burning heat to the rays of the sun, his paleness to the clouds, and his thinness to the waters of the rivers, [789] and having become free from sorrow, set out at once, escorted by a small force, for the dwelling-place of his beloved. In course of time, as he advanced, he crossed the sea, and reached that city, and there he saw the people in front of it engaged in loud lamentation, and when he questioned them, he received this answer, "The princess Malayavatí here, as the period of six months is at an end, and she has not obtained her beloved, is preparing to enter the fire." Then the king went to the place where the pyre had been made ready. "When the people saw him, they made way for him, and then the princess beheld that unexpected nectar-rain to her eyes. And she said to her ladies-in-waiting, "Here is that beloved come who married me in a dream, so tell my father quickly." They went and told this to her father, and then that king, delivered from his grief, and filled with joy, submissively approached the sovereign. At that moment the bard Sanvarasiddhi, who knew his time, lifted up his arm, and chanted aloud this strain, "Hail thou that with the flame of thy valour hast consumed the forest of the army of demons and Mlechchhas! Hail king, lord of the seven-sea-girt earth-bride! Hail thou that hast imposed thy exceedingly heavy yoke on the bowed heads of all kings, conquered by thee! Hail, Vishamasíla, hail Vikramáditya, ocean of valour!" When the bard said this, king Malayasinha knew that it was Vikramáditya himself that had come, and embraced his feet. [790] And after he had welcomed him, he entered his palace with him, and his daughter Malayavatí, thus delivered from death. And that king gave that daughter of his to king Vikramáditya, thinking himself fortunate in having obtained such a son-in-law. And king Vikramáditya, when he saw in his arms, in flesh and blood, that Malayavatí, whom he had previously seen in a picture and in a dream, considered it a wonderful fruit of the wishing-tree of Siva's favour. Then Vikramáditya took with him his wife Malayavatí, like an incarnation of bliss, and crossed the sea resembling his long regretful [791] separation, and being submissively waited upon at every step by kings, with various presents in their hands, returned to his own city Ujjayiní. And on beholding there that might of his, that satisfied [792] freely every kind of curiosity, what people were not astonished, what people did not rejoice, what people did not make high festival? CHAPTER CXXIII. Then, once on a time, in the course of conversation, one of Vikramáditya's queens, called Kalingasená, said to her rival queens, "What the king did for the sake of Malayavatí was not wonderful, for this king Vishamasíla has ever been famous on the earth for such like acts. Was not I swooped down on by him and married by force, after he had seen a carved likeness of me and been overcome by love? On this account the kárpatika [793] Devasena told me a story: that story I will proceed to tell you; listen." "I was very much vexed, and exclaimed 'How can the king be said to have married me lawfully?' Then the kárpatika said to me, 'Do not be angry, queen, for the king married you in eager haste out of a violent passion for you; hear the whole story from the beginning.'" Story of Kalingasená's marriage Once on a time, when I was serving your husband as a kárpatika, I saw a great boar far away in the wood. Its mouth was formidable with tusks, its colour was black as a Tamála tree, it looked like an incarnation of the black fortnight devouring the digits of the moon. And I came, queen, and informed the king of it, describing it to him as I have done to you. And the king went out to hunt, attracted by his love for the sport. And when he reached the wood, and was dealing death among the tigers and deer, he saw in the distance that boar of which I had informed him. And when he saw that wonderful boar, he came to the conclusion that some being had assumed that form with an object, and he ascended his horse called Ratnákara, the progeny of Ucchaihsravas. For every day at noon, the sun waits a brief space in the sky, and then his charioteer the dawn lets the horses loose, that they may bathe and feed: and one day Uchchhaihsravas, having been unyoked from the chariot of the sun, approached a mare of the king's, that he saw in the forest, and begot that horse. [794] So the king mounted that swift horse, and quickly pursued that boar, that fled to a very remote [795] part of the forest. Then that boar escaped somewhere from his view, being swifter even than that horse that had Uchchhaihsravas for a sire. Then the king, not having caught him, and seeing that I alone had followed him, while he had left the rest of his suite far behind, asked me this question, "Do you know how much ground we have traversed to get to this place?" When I heard that, queen, I made the king this answer, "My lord, we have come three hundred yojanas." Then the king being astonished said, "Then how have you managed to come so far on foot?" When he asked me this question, I answered, "King, I have an ointment for the feet; hear the way in which I acquired it." How Devasena obtained the magic ointment. Long ago, on account of the loss of my wife, I went forth to make a pilgrimage to all the holy bathing places, and in the course of my journey I came one evening to a temple with a garden. And I went in there to pass the night, and I saw inside a woman, and I remained there hospitably welcomed by her. And during the course of the night she elevated one lip to heaven, resting the other on the earth, and with expanded jaws said to me, "Have you seen before anywhere such a mouth as this?" Then I fearlessly drew my dagger with a frown, and said to her, "Have you seen such a man as this?" Then she assumed a gentle appearance without any horrible distortion of shape, and said to me, "I am a Yakshí, Vandhyá by name, and I am pleased with your courage; so now tell me what I can do to gratify you." When the Yakshiní said this, I answered her, "If you are really pleased with me, then enable me to go round to all the holy waters without any suffering." When the Yakshí heard this, she gave me an ointment for my feet; [796] by means of it I travelled to all the holy bathing-places, and I have been able to run behind you now so far as this place. And by its aid I come to this wood here every day, and eat fruits, and then return to Ujjayiní and attend upon you. When I told that tale to the king, I saw by his pleased face that he thought in his heart that I was a follower well-suited to him. I again said to him, "King, I will bring you here some very sweet fruits, if you will be pleased to eat them." The king said to me, "I will not eat; I do not require anything; but do you eat something, as you are exhausted." Then I got hold of a gourd and ate it, and no sooner had I eaten it, than it turned me into a python. But king Vishamasíla, when he saw me suddenly turn into a python, was astonished and despondent. So, being there alone, he called to mind the Vetála Bhútaketu, whom he had long ago made his servant, by delivering him with a look from a disease of the eyes. That Vetála came, as soon as the king called him to mind, and bowing before him said, "Why did you call me to mind, great king? Give me your orders." Then the king said, "Good sir, this my kárpatika has been suddenly turned into a python by eating a gourd; restore him to his former condition." But the Vetála said, "King, I have not the power to do this. Powers are strictly limited: can water quench the flame of lightning?" Then the king said, "Then let us go to this village, my friend. We may eventually hear of some remedy from the Bhillas there." When the king had come to this conclusion, he went to that village with the Vetála. There the bandits surrounded him, seeing that he wore ornaments. But when they began to rain arrows upon him, the Vetála, by the order of the king, devoured five hundred of them. The rest fled and told their chief what had occurred, and he, whose name was Ekákikesarin, came there in wrath, with his host. But one of his servants recognised the monarch, and the chief hearing from him who it was, came and clung to Vikramáditya's feet, and announced himself. Then the king welcomed kindly the submissive chief, and asked after his health, and said to him, "My kárpatika has become a python by eating the fruit of a gourd in the forest; so devise some plan for releasing him from his transformation." When that chief heard this speech of the king's, he said to him, "King, let this follower of yours shew him to my son here." Then that son of his came with the Vetála, and made me a man as before by means of a sternutatory made of the extract of a plant. And then we went joyful into tho presence of the king; and when I bent at the feet of the king, the king informed the delighted chief who I was. Then the Bhilla chief Ekákikesarin, after obtaining the king's consent, conducted him and us to his palace. And we beheld that dwelling of his, crowded with Savaras, having its high walls covered with the tusks of elephants, adorned with tiger-skins; in which the women had for garments the tails of peacocks, for necklaces strings of gunjá-fruit, and for perfume the ichor that flows from the foreheads of elephants. There the wife of the chief, having her garments perfumed with musk, adorned with pearls and such like ornaments, herself waited on the king. Then the king, having bathed and taken a meal, observed that the chief's sons were old, while he was a young man, and put this question to him, "Chief, explain, I pray you, this that puzzles me. How comes it, that you are a young man, whereas these children of yours are old?" When the king had said this to the Savara chief, he answered him, "This, king, is a strange story; listen if you feel any curiosity about it." Story of the grateful Monkey. [797] I was long ago a Bráhman named Chandrasvámin, and I lived in the city of Máyápur. One day I went by order of my father to the forest to fetch wood. There a monkey stood barring my way, but without hurting me, looking at me with an eye of grief, pointing out to me another path. I said to myself, "This monkey does not bite me, so I had better go along the path which he points out, and see what his object is." Thereupon I set out with him along that path, and the monkey kept going along in front of me, and turning round to look at me. And after he had gone some distance, he climbed up jambu-tree, and I looked at the upper part of the tree, which was covered with a dense network of creepers: and I saw a female monkey there with her body fettered by a mass of creepers twisted round her, and I understood that it was on this account that the monkey had brought me there. Then I climbed up the tree, and cut with my axe the creepers [798] that had twisted round and entangled her, and set that female monkey at liberty. And when I got down from the tree, the male and female monkey came down also and embraced my feet. And the male monkey left that female clinging to my feet for a moment, and went and fetched a heavenly fruit, and gave it to me. I took it and returned home after I had got my fuel, and there I and my wife ate that splendid fruit together, and as soon as we had eaten it, we ceased to be liable to old age and disease. [799] Then there arose in that country of ours the scourge of famine. And afflicted by that calamity the people of that land fled in all directions. And I happened in course of time to reach this country with my wife. And at that time there was a king of the Savaras here named Kánchanadanshtra: I entered his service with my sword. And as Kánchanadanshtra saw that I came to the front in several engagements, he appointed me general. And as I had won the affections of that master of mine by my exclusive devotion to him, when he died, having no son, he bestowed on me his kingdom. And twenty-seven hundred years have passed over my head, since I have been in this place, and yet, owing to eating that fruit, I do not suffer from old age. When Ekákikesarin, the king of the Bhillas, had told in these words his own history, he went on to ask a favour of the astonished monarch, saying, "By the fruit given by the monkey I gained a long life, and by that long life I have again obtained a perfect fruit, namely, the sight of your august self. So I entreat, king, that the condescension towards me, which you have shown by coming to my house, may be developed into gracious approval. I have, king, a daughter of matchless beauty, born to me by a Kshatriyá wife, and her name is Madanasundarí. That pearl of maidens ought not to fall to the lot of any one but your Highness. Therefore I bestow her on you; marry her with due ceremonies. And I, my sovereign, will follow you as your slave with twenty thousand archers." When the Bhilla chief addressed this petition to the king, he granted it. And in an auspicious hour he married the daughter of that chief, who gave him a hundred camels laden with pearls and musk. And after the king had remained there seven days, he set out thence with Madanasundarí and the army of the Bhillas. In the meanwhile, after the king had been carried away by his horse, our army remained despondent in the forest, where the hunting took place; but the warder Bhadráyudha said to them, "Away with despondency! Even though our king has been away for a long time, he is of divine power, and no serious misfortune will happen to him. Do you not remember how he went to Pátála and married there the daughter of a Nága, whose name was Surúpá, and came back here alone, and how the hero went to the world of the Gandharvas, and returned here with Tárávalí the daughter of the king of the Gandharvas?" With these words Bhadráyudha consoled them all, and they remained at the entrance of the forest waiting for the king. And while that Madanasundarí was advancing leisurely by an open path, accompanied by the Savara hosts, the king entered that forest on horseback, with myself and the Vetála, in order to get a sight of the boar he had before seen: and when he entered it, the boar rushed out in front of him, and the moment the king saw it, he killed it with five arrows. When it was slain, the Vetála rushed to it, and tore its belly open, and suddenly there issued from it a man of pleasing appearance. The king, astonished, asked him who he was, and then there came there a wild elephant, resembling a moving mountain. When the king saw that wild elephant charging down on him, he smote it in a vital place and slew it with a single arrow. The Vetála tore open its belly also, and there issued from it a man of heavenly appearance, and a woman beautiful in all her limbs. And when the king was about to question the man, who issued from the boar, he said to him, "Listen, king; I am going to tell you my history. "We two, king, are two sons of gods: [800] this one's name is Bhadra, and I am Subha. As we were roaming about we observed the hermit Kanva engaged in meditation. We assumed in sport the forms of an elephant and a boar, and having done so, we terrified the great sage in our reckless folly, and he pronounced on us this curse, 'Become in this forest an elephant and boar such as you are now; but when you shall be killed by king Vikramáditya, you shall be released from the curse.' So we became an elephant and a boar by the curse of the hermit, and we have to-day been set free by you; as for this woman, let her tell her own story. But touch this boar on the neck and this elephant on the back; and they will become for you celestial sword and shield." When he had said this, he disappeared with his companion, and the boar and elephant, touched by the hand of the king, became for him a sword and a shield. Then the woman, being questioned about her history, spoke as follows: "I am the wife of a great merchant in Ujjayiní named Dhanadatta. One night, as I was sleeping on the top of a palace, this elephant came and swallowed me and brought me here; however this man was not inside the elephant, but when its belly was torn open, he came out of it with me." When the woman said this in grief, the king said to her, "Be of good courage: I will take you to your husband's house: go and journey along in security with my harem." When he had said this, he made the Vetála take her and hand her over to the queen Madanasundarí, who was travelling by a different path. Then, the Vetála having returned, we suddenly saw there in the wood two princesses, with a numerous and splendid retinue. And the king sent me and summoned their chamberlains, and they, when asked whence the two maidens came, told the following story; Story of the two princesses. There is a dvípa named Katáha, the home of all felicities. In it there is a king rightly named Gunaságara. [801] He had born to him by his principal queen a daughter named Gunavatí, who by her beauty produced astonishment even in the Creator who made her. And holy seers announced that she should have for a husband the lord of the seven dvípas; whereupon her father the king deliberated with his counsellors; and came to this conclusion, "King Vikramáditya is a suitable husband for my daughter; so I will send her to marry him." Accordingly, the king made his daughter embark in a ship on the sea, with her retinue and wealth, and sent her off. But it so happened that when the ship came near Suvarnadvípa, it was swallowed, with the princess and the people on board, by a large fish. But that monstrous fish was carried by the current of the sea as if by the course of Destiny, and thrown up on a coast near that dvípa, and there stranded. And the people of the neighbourhood, the moment they saw it, ran with many weapons in their hands, and killed that marvellous fish, and cut open its belly. [802] And then there came out of it that great ship full of people; and when the king of that dvípa heard of it, he came there greatly wondering. And that king, whose name was Chandrasekhara, and who was the brother-in-law of king Gunaságara, heard the whole story from the people in the ship. Then the king, finding that Gunavatí was the daughter of his sister, took her into his palace, and out of joy celebrated a feast. And the next day that king put on board a ship in a lucky moment his daughter Chandravatí, whom he had long intended to give to king Vikramáditya, with that Gunavatí, and sent her off with much magnificence as a gift to that sovereign. These two princesses, having crossed the sea, by advancing gradually, have at length arrived here; and we are their attendants. And when we reached this place, a very large boar and a very large elephant rushed upon us; then, king, we uttered this cry, "These maidens have come to offer themselves for wives to king Vikramáditya: so preserve them for him, ye Guardians of the World, as is meet." When the boar and the elephant heard this, they said to us with articulate speech, "Be of good courage! the mere mention of that king's name ensures your safety. And you shall see him arrive here in a moment." When the boar and the elephant, who were, no doubt, some heavenly beings or other, had said this, they went away. "This is our story," said the chamberlain, and then, queen, I said to them, "And this is the king you seek." Then they fell at the king's feet rejoicing, and made over to him those two princesses Gunavatí and Chandravatí. And the king gave orders to the Vetála and had those two fair ones also taken to his queen, saying, "Let all three travel with Madanasundarí." The Vetála returned immediately, and then, queen, the king went with him and myself by an out-of-the-way path. And as we were going along in the forest, the sun set; and just at that time we heard there the sound of a drum. The king asked, "Whence comes this sound of a drum?" The Vetála answered him, "King, there is a temple here. It is a marvel of heavenly skill, having been built by Visvakarman; and this beating of the drum is to announce the commencement of the evening spectacle." When the Vetála had said this, he and the king and I went there out of curiosity, and after we had tied up the horse, we entered. And we saw worshipped there a great linga of tárkshyaratna [803] and in front of it a spectacle with blazing lights. And there danced there for a long time three nymphs of celestial beauty, in four kinds of measures, accompanied with music and singing. And at the end of the spectacle we beheld a wonder, for the dancing nymphs disappeared in the figures carved on the pillars of the temple: and in the same way the singers and players went into the figures of men painted on the walls. When the king saw this, he was astonished, but the Vetála said to him, "Such is this heavenly enchantment produced by Visvakarman, lasting for ever, for this will always take place at both twilights." When he had said this, we wandered about in the temple, and saw in one place a female figure on a pillar, of extraordinary beauty. When the king saw her, he was bewildered by her beauty, and remained for a moment absent-minded and motionless, so that he himself was like a figure cut on a pillar. And he exclaimed, "If I do not see a living woman like this figure, of what profit to me is my kingdom or my life?" When the Vetála heard this, he said, "Your wish is not hard to gratify, for the king of Kalinga has a daughter named Kalingasená, and a sculptor of Vardhamána seeing her, and being desirous of representing her beauty, carved this figure in imitation of her. [804] So return to Ujjayiní, king, and ask that king of Kalinga for his daughter, or carry her off by force." This speech of the Vetála's the king laid up in his heart. Then we spent that night there, and the next morning we set out, and we saw two handsome men under an asoka-tree, and then they rose up and bowed before the king. Then the king said to them, "Who are you, and why are you in the forest?" One of them answered, "Listen, king, I will tell you the whole story." Story of Dhanadatta. I am the son of a merchant in Ujjayiní, and my name is Dhanadatta. Once on a time I went to sleep with my wife on the top of my palace. In the morning I woke up and looked about me, and lo! my wife was not in the palace, nor in the garden attached to it, nor anywhere about it. I said to myself, "She has not lost her heart to another man; of that I am convinced by the fact that the garland which she gave me, telling me that as long as she remained chaste, it would certainly not fade, is still as fresh as ever. [805] So I cannot think where she has gone, whether she has been carried off by a demon or some other evil being, or what has happened to her." With these thoughts in my mind, I remained looking for her, crying out, lamenting, and weeping; consumed by the fire of separation from her; taking no food. Then my relations succeeded at last in consoling me to a certain extent, and I took food, and I made my abode in a temple, and remained there plunged in grief, feasting Bráhmans. Once when I was quite broken down, this Bráhman came to me there, and I refreshed him with a bath and food, and after he had eaten, I asked him whence he came, and he said, "I am from a village near Váránasí." My servants told him my cause of woe, and he said, "Why have you, like an unenterprising man, allowed your spirits to sink? The energetic man obtains even that which it is hard to attain; so rise up my friend, and let us look for your wife; I will help you." I said, "How are we to look for her, when we do not even know in what direction she has gone?" When I said this, he answered me kindly, "Do not say this; did not Kesata long ago recover his wife, when it seemed hopeless that he should ever be reunited with her? Hear his story in proof of it." Story of Kesata and Kandarpa. There lived in the city of Pátaliputra a wealthy young Bráhman, the son of a Bráhman; his name was Kesata, and he was in beauty like a second god of love. He wished to obtain a wife like himself, and so he went forth secretly [806] from his parents' house, and wandered through various lands on the pretext of visiting holy bathing-places. And in the course of his wanderings he came once on a time to the bank of the Narmadá, and he saw a numerous procession of bridegroom's friends coming that way. And a distinguished old Bráhman, belonging to that company, when he saw Kesata in the distance, left his companions, and coming up to him accosted him, and respectfully said to him in private, "I have a certain favour to ask of you, and it is one which you can easily do for me, but the benefit conferred on me will be a very great one; so, if you will do it, I will proceed to say what it is." When Kesata heard this, he said, "Noble sir, if what you say is possible, I must certainly do it: let the benefit be conferred on you." When the Bráhman heard that, he said, "Listen, my good young man; I have a son, who is the prince of ugly, as you are of good-looking, men. He has projecting teeth, a flat nose, a black colour, squinting eyes, a big belly, crooked feet, and ears like winnowing baskets. Though he is such, I, out of my love for him, described him as handsome, and asked a Bráhman, named Ratnadatta, to give him his daughter, named Rúpavatí, and he has agreed to do it. The girl is as beautiful as her name expresses, and to-day they are to be married. For this reason we have come, but I know that, when that purposed connexion of mine sees my son, he will refuse to give him his daughter, and this attempt will be fruitless. And while thinking how I could find some way out of the difficulty, I have met you here, courteous sir; so quickly perform for me my desire, as you have pledged your word to do. Come with us, and marry that maiden, and hand her over to my son to-day, for you are as good-looking as the bride." When Kesata heard this, he said, "Agreed," and so the old Bráhman took Kesata with him, and they crossed the Narmadá in boats and landed on the opposite bank. And so he reached the city, and rested outside it with his followers, and at that time the sun also, the traveller of the sky, went to his rest on the mountain of setting. Then the darkness began to diffuse itself abroad, and Kesata, having gone to rinse his mouth, saw a terrible Rákshasa rise up near the water; and the Rákshasa said, "Where will you go from me, [807] Kesata? I am about to devour you." Thereupon Kesata said to the Rákshasa, "Do not devour me now; I will certainly come back to you presently, when I have done the Bráhman the service I promised." When the Rákshasa heard this, he made Kesata take an oath to this effect, and then let him go; and he returned to the company of the bridegroom's friends. Then the old Bráhman brought Kesata adorned with the ornaments of a bridegroom, and entered that city with all the bridegroom's party. And then he made him enter the house of Ratnadatta, in which an altar-platform was ready prepared, and which was made to resound with the music of various instruments. And Kesata married there with all due ceremonies that fair-faced maiden Rúpavatí, to whom her father gave great wealth. And the women there rejoiced, seeing that the bride and bridegroom were well-matched; and not only Rúpavatí, when she saw that such a bridegroom had arrived, but her friends also, fell in love with him. But Kesata at that time was overpowered with despondency and astonishment. And at night Rúpavatí seeing that her husband, as he lay on the bed, was plunged in thought, and kept his head turned away, pretended to be asleep. And in the dead of night Kesata, thinking that she was asleep, went out to that Rákshasa to keep his promise. And that faithful wife Rúpavatí also gently rose up unobserved, and followed her husband, full of curiosity. And when Kesata arrived where the Rákshasa was, the latter said to him, "Bravo! you have kept your promise faithfully, Kesata; you are a man of noble character. You sanctify your city of Pátaliputra and your father Desata by your virtue, so approach, that I may devour you." When Rúpavatí heard that, she came up quickly and said, "Eat me, for, if my husband is eaten, what will become of me?" The Rákshasa said, "You can live on alms." She replied, "Who, noble sir, will give alms to me who am a woman?" The Rákshasa said, "If any one refuses to give you alms, when asked to do so, his head shall split in a hundred pieces." [808] Then she said, "This being so, give me my husband by way of alms." And, as the Rákshasa would not give him, his head at once split asunder, and he died. Then Rúpavatí returned to her bridal-chamber, with her husband, who was exceedingly astonished at her virtue, and at that moment the night came to an end. And the next morning the bridegroom's friends took food and set out from that city, and reached the bank of the Narmadá with the newly married pair. Then the old Bráhman, who was their leader, put the wife Rúpavatí with her attendants on board one boat, and went on board a second himself, and cunningly made Kesata embark on a third, having previously made an agreement with the boatmen; and before he went on board took from him all the ornaments he had lent him. Then the Bráhman was ferried across with the wife and the bridegroom's party, but Kesata was kept out in the middle of the stream by the boatmen, and carried to a great distance. Then those boatmen pushed the boat and Kesata into a place where the current ran full and strong, and swam ashore themselves, having been bribed by the old Bráhman. But Kesata was carried with the boat, by the river which was lashed into waves by the wind, into the sea, and at last a wave flung him up on the coast. There he recovered strength and spirits, as he was not doomed to die just yet, and he said to himself, "Well, that Bráhman has made me a fine recompense. But was not the fact that he married his son by means of a substitute, in itself sufficient proof that he was a fool and a scoundrel?" While he remained there, buried in such thoughts, the night came on him, when the companies of air-flying witches begin to roam about. He remained sleepless through it, and in the fourth watch he heard a noise in the sky, and saw a handsome [809] man fall from heaven in front of him. Kesata was terrified at first, but after some time he saw that he had nothing uncanny about him, so he said to him, "Who are you, Sir?" Then the man said, "First tell me who you are; and then I will tell you who I am." Hearing that, Kesata told him his history. Then the man said, "My friend, you are exactly in the same predicament as myself, so I will now tell you my history, listen. "There is on the bank of the river Vená a city named Ratnapura; I am a Bráhman householder in that city, the son of a rich man, and my name is Kandarpa. One evening I went down to the river Vená to draw water, and I slipped and fell into it, and was carried away by the current. The current carried me a long way during that night, and when the morning came, as I was not doomed to die yet, it brought me to the foot of a tree that grew on the bank. I climbed up the bank by the help of the tree, and when I had recovered breath, I saw in front of me a great empty temple dedicated to the Mothers. I entered it, and when I saw before me the Mothers flashing, as it were, with brightness and power, my fear was allayed, and I bowed before them, and praised them and addressed this prayer to them, 'Venerable ones, deliver me a miserable man; for I have to-day come here as a suppliant for your protection.' When I had uttered this prayer, being exhausted with my struggles in the current of the river, I rested, my friend, till my fatigue gradually disappeared, and the day disappeared also. And then there appeared the horrible female ascetic called night, furnished with many stars by way of a bone-necklace, white with moonlight instead of ashes, and carrying the moon for a gleaming seull. "And then, I remember, a band of witches came out from the company of the Mothers, and they said to one another, 'To night we must go to the general assembly of the witches in Chakrapura, [810] and how can this Bráhman be kept safe in this place which is full of wild beasts? So let us take him to some place where he will be happy: and afterwards we will bring him back again; he has fled to us for protection.' When they had said this, they adorned me, and carrying me through the air, placed me in the house of a rich Bráhman in a certain city, and went away. "And when I looked about me there, lo! the altar was prepared for a marriage, and the auspicious hour had arrived, but the procession of bridegroom's friends was nowhere to be seen. And all the people, seeing me in front of the door arrayed in bridegroom's garments of heavenly splendour, said, 'Here is the bridegroom at any rate arrived.' Then the Bráhman of the house took me to the altar, and led his daughter there adorned, and gave her to me with the usual ceremonies. And the women said to one another, 'Fortunate is it that the beauty of Sumanas has borne fruit by winning her a bridegroom like herself!' Then, having married Sumanas, I slept with her in a palace, gratified by having every want supplied in the most magnificent style. "Then those witches came back from their assembly in this last watch of the night, and by their supernatural power carried me off, and flew up into the air with me. And while they were flying through the air, they had a fight with another set of witches, who came, wishing to carry me off, and they let me go and I fell down here. And I do not know the city where I married that Sumanas; and I cannot tell what will become of her now. This succession of misfortunes, which Destiny has brought upon me, has now ended in happiness by my meeting with you." When Kandarpa had given this account of his adventure, Kesata said to him, "Do not be afraid, my friend; the witches will have no power over you henceforth; since I possess a certain irresistible charm, which will keep them at a distance: now let us roam about together: Destiny will bestow on us good fortune." And while they were engaged in this conversation, the night came to an end. In the morning Kesata and Kandarpa set out from that place together, and crossing the sea, reached in due course a city named Bhímapura near the river called Ratnanadí. There they heard a great noise on the bank of that river, and when they went to the place whence it came, they saw a fish that filled the channel of the stream from bank to bank. It had been thrown up by the tide of the sea, and got fast in the river owing to the vastness of its bulk, and men with various weapons in their hands were cutting it up to procure flesh. And while they were cutting it open, there came out of its belly a woman, and being beheld by the people with astonishment, she came terrified to the bank. Then Kandarpa looked at her, and said exultingly to Kesata, "My friend, here is that very Sumanas, whom I married. But I do not know how she came to be living in the belly of a fish. So let us remain here in silence, until the whole matter is cleared up." Kesata consented, and they remained there. And the people said to Sumanas, "Who are you, and what is the meaning of this?" Then she said very reluctantly, "I am the daughter of a crest-jewel of Bráhmans, named Jayadatta, who lived in the city of Ratnákara. My name is Sumanas, and one night I was married to a certain handsome young Bráhman, who was a suitable match for me. That very night, my husband went away somewhere, while I was asleep; and though my father made diligent search for him, he could not find him anywhere. Then I threw myself into the river to cool the fire of grief at separation from him, and I was swallowed by this fish; and now Destiny has brought me here." While she was saying this, a Bráhman named Yajnasvámin rushed out of the crowd, and embraced her and said this to her, "Come, come with me, niece; you are the daughter of my sister; for I am Yajnasvámin, your mother's own brother." When Sumanas heard that, she uncovered her face and looked at him, and recognising her uncle, she embraced his feet weeping. But after a moment she ceased weeping, and said to him, "Do you give me fuel, for, as I am separated from my husband, I have no other refuge but the fire." Her uncle did all he could to dissuade her, but she would not abandon her intention; and then Kandarpa, having thus seen her real feelings tested, came up to her. When the wise Sumanas saw him near her, she recognised him, and fell weeping at his feet. And when the discreet woman was questioned by the people, and by that uncle of hers, she answered, "He is my husband." Then all were delighted, and Yajnasvámin took her husband Kandarpa to his house, together with Kesata. There they told their adventures, and Yajnasvámin and his family lovingly waited on them with many hospitable attentions. After some days had passed, Kesata said to Kandarpa, "You have gained all you want by recovering your longed-for wife; so now go with her to Ratnapura your own city; but, as I have not attained the object of my desire, I will not return to my own country: I, my friend, will make a pilgrimage to all the holy bathing-places and so destroy my body." When Yajnasvámin, in Bhímapura, heard this, he said to Kesata, "Why do you utter this despondent speech? As long as people are alive, there is nothing they cannot get: in proof of this hear the story of Kusumáyudha, which I am about to tell you." Story of Kusumáyudha and Kamalalochaná. There was in a town named Chandrapura a Bráhman named Devasvámin: he had a very beautiful daughter named Kamalalochaná. And he had a young Bráhman pupil named Kusumáyudha; and that pupil and his daughter loved one another well. One day her father made up his mind to give her to another suitor, and at once that maiden sent by her confidante the following message to Kusumáyudha, "Though I have long ago fixed my heart on you for a husband, my father has promised to give me to another, so devise a scheme for carrying me off hence." So Kusumáyudha made an arrangement to carry her off, and he placed outside her house at night a servant with a mule for that purpose. So she quietly went out and mounted the mule, but that servant did not take her to his master; he took her somewhere else, to make her his own. And during the night he took Kamalalochaná a long distance, and they reached a certain city by the morning, when that chaste woman said to the servant, "Where is my husband your master? Why do you not take me to him?" When the cunning rogue heard this, he said to her who was alone in a foreign country, "I am going to marry you myself: never mind about him; how can you get to him now?" When the discreet woman heard this, she said, "Indeed I love you very much." [811] Then the rascal left her in the garden of the city, and went to the market to buy the things required for a wedding. In the meanwhile that maiden fled, with the mule, and entered the house of a certain old man who made garlands. She told him her history, and he made her welcome, so she remained there. And the wicked servant, not finding her in the garden, went away from it disappointed, and returned to his master Kusumáyudha. And when his master questioned him, he said, "The fact is, you are an upright man yourself, and you do not understand the ways of deceitful women. No sooner did she come out and was seen, than I was seized there by those other men, and the mule was taken away from me. By good luck I managed to escape and have come here." When Kusumáyudha heard this, he remained silent, and plunged in thought. One day his father sent him to be married, and as he was going along, he reached the city, where Kamalalochaná was. There he made the bridegroom's followers encamp in a neighbouring garden, and while he was roaming about alone, Kamalalochaná saw him, and told the garland-maker in whose house she was living. He went and told her intended husband what had taken place, and brought him to her. Then the garland-maker collected the necessary things, and the long-desired marriage between the youth and the maiden was immediately celebrated. Then Kusumáyudha punished that wicked servant, and married in addition that second maiden, who was the cause of his finding Kamalalochaná, and in order to marry whom he had started from home, and he returned rejoicing to his own country with those two wives. "Thus the fortunate are reunited in the most unexpected manner, and so you may be certain, Kesata, of regaining your beloved soon in the same way." When Yajnasvámin had said this, Kandarpa, Sumanas and Kesata, remained for some days in his house, and then they set out for their own country. But on the way they reached a great forest, and they were separated from one another in the confusion produced by a charge of wild elephants. Of the party Kesata went on alone and grieved, and in course of time reached the city of Kásí and found his friend Kandarpa there. And he went with him to his own city Pátaliputra, and he remained there some time welcomed by his father. And there he told his parents all his adventures, beginning with his marrying Rúpavatí, and ending with the story of Kandarpa. In the meanwhile Sumanas fled, terrified at the elephants, and entered a thicket, and while she was there, the sun set for her. And when night came on, she cried out in her woe, "Alas, my husband! Alas, my father! Alas, my mother!" and resolved to fling herself into a forest fire. And in the meanwhile that company of witches, that were so full of pity for Kandarpa, having conquered the other witches, reached their own temple. There they remembered Kandarpa, and finding out by their supernatural knowledge that his wife had lost her way in a wood, they deliberated as follows, "Kandarpa, being a resolute man, will unaided obtain his desire; but his wife, being a young girl, and having lost her way in the forest, will assuredly die. So let us take her and put her down in Ratnapura, in order that she may live there in the house of Kandarpa's father with his other wife." When the witches had come to this conclusion, they went to that forest and comforted Sumanas there, and took her and left her in Ratnapura. When the night had passed, Sumanas, wandering about in that city, heard the following cry in the mouths of the people who were running hither and thither, "Lo! the virtuous Anangavatí, the wife of the Bráhman Kandarpa, who, after her husband had gone somewhere or other, lived a long time in hope of reunion with him, not having recovered him, has now gone out in despair to enter the fire, followed by her weeping father-in-law and mother-in-law." When Sumanas heard that, she went quickly to the place where the pyre had been made, and going up to Anangavatí, said to her, in order to dissuade her, "Noble lady, do not act rashly, for that husband of yours is alive." Having said this, she told the whole story from the beginning. And she shewed the jewelled ring that Kandarpa gave her. Then all welcomed her, perceiving that her account was true. Then Kandarpa's father honoured that bride Sumanas and gladly lodged her in his house with the delighted Anangavatí. Then Kandarpa left Pátaliputra [812] without telling Kesata, as he knew he would not like it, in order to roam about in search of Sumanas. And after he had gone, Kesata, feeling unhappy without Rúpavatí, left his house without his parents' knowledge, and went to roam about hither and thither. And Kandarpa, in the course of his wanderings, happened to visit that very city, where Kesata, married Rúpavatí. And hearing a great noise of people, he asked what it meant, and a certain man said to him, "Here is Rúpavatí preparing to die, as she cannot find her husband Kesata,; the tumult is on that account; listen to the story connected with her." Then that man related the strange story of Rúpavatí's marriage with Kesata and of her adventure with the Rákshasa, and then continued as follows: "Then that old Bráhman, having tricked Kesata, went on his way, taking with him Rúpavatí for his son: but nobody knew where Kesata had gone after marrying her. And Rúpavatí, not seeing Kesata on the journey, said, 'Why do I not see my husband here, though all the rest of the party are travelling along with me?' When the old Bráhman heard that, he shewed her that son of his, and said to her, 'My daughter, this son of mine is your husband; behold him.' Then Rúpavatí said in a rage to the old man there, 'I will not have this ugly fellow for a husband; I will certainly die, if I cannot get that husband, who married me yesterday.' "Saying this, she at once stopped eating and drinking; and the old Bráhman, through fear of the king, had her taken back to her father's house. There she told the trick that the old Bráhman had played her, and her father, in great grief, said to her, 'How are we to discover, my daughter, who the man that married you, is?' Then Rúpavatí said, 'My husband's name is Kesata, and he is the son of a Bráhman named Desata in Pátaliputra; for so much I heard from the mouth of a Rákshasa.' When she had said this, she told her father the whole story of her husband and the Rákshasa. Then her father went and saw the Rákshasa lying dead, and so he believed his daughter's story, and was pleased with the virtue of that couple. "He consoled his daughter with hopes of reunion with her husband, and sent his son to Kesata's father in Pátaliputra, to search for him. And after some time they came back and said, 'We saw the householder Desata in Pátaliputra. But when we asked him where his son Kesata was, he answered us with tears, "My son Kesata is not here; he did return here, and a friend of his named Kandarpa came with him; but he went away from here without telling me, pining for Rúpavatí"--When we heard this speech of his, we came back here in due course.' "When those sent to search had brought back this report, Rúpavatí said to her father, 'I shall never recover my husband, so I will enter the fire; how long, father, can I live here without my husband?' She went on saying this, and as her father has not been able to dissuade her, she has come out to-day to perish in the fire. And two maidens, friends of hers, have come out to die in the same way; one is called Sringáravatí and the other Anurágavatí. For long ago, at the marriage of Rúpavatí, they saw Kesata and made up their minds that they would have him for a husband, as their hearts were captivated by his beauty. This is the meaning of the noise which the people here are making." When Kandarpa heard this from that man, he went to the pyre which had been heaped up for those ladies. He made a sign to the people from a distance to cease their tumult, and going up quickly, he said to Rúpavatí, who was worshipping the fire; "Noble lady; desist from this rashness; that husband of yours Kesata is alive; he is my friend; know that I am Kandarpa." When he had said this, he told her all Kesata's adventures, beginning with the circumstance of the old Bráhman's treacherously making him embark on the boat. Then Rúpavatí believed him, as his story tallied so completely with what she knew, and she joyfully entered her father's house with those two friends. And her father kindly welcomed Kandarpa and took good care of him; and so he remained there, to please him. In the meanwhile it happened that, as Kesata was roaming about, he reached Ratnapura and found there the house of Kandarpa, in which his two wives were. And as he was wandering about near the house, Sumanas, the wife of Kandarpa, saw him from the top of the house and said delighted to her father-in-law and mother-in-law, and the other people in the house, "Here now is Kesata my husband's friend arrived; we may hear news of my husband from him; quickly invite him in." Then they went and on some pretext or other brought in Kesata as she advised, and when he saw Sumanas come towards him, he was delighted. And after he had rested she questioned him, and he immediately told her his own and Kandarpa's adventures, after the scare produced by the wild elephants. He remained there some days, hospitably entertained, and then a messenger came from Kandarpa with a letter. The messenger said, "Kandarpa and Rúpavatí are in the town where Kandarpa's friend Kesata married Rúpavatí;" and the contents of the letter were to the same effect; and Kesata communicated the tidings with tears to the father of Kandarpa. And the next day Kandarpa's father sent in high glee a messenger to bring his son, and dismissed Kesata, that he might join his beloved. And Kesata went with that messenger, who brought the letter, to that country where Rúpavatí was living in her father's house. There, after a long absence, he greeted and refreshed the delighted Rúpavatí, as the cloud does the chátakí. He met Kandarpa once more, and he married at the instance of Rúpavatí her two before-mentioned friends, Anurágavatí and Sringáravatí. And then Kesata went with Rúpavatí and them to his own land, after taking leave of Kandarpa. And Kandarpa returned to Ratnapura with the messenger, and was once more united to Sumanas and Anangavatí and his relations. So Kandarpa regained his beloved Sumanas, and Kesata his beloved Rúpavatí, and they lived enjoying the good things of this life, each in his own country. Thus men of firm resolution, though separated by adverse destiny, are reunited with their dear ones, despising even terrible sufferings, and taking no account of their interminable duration. So rise up quickly my friend, let us go; you also will find your wife, if you search for her; who knows the way of Destiny? I myself regained my wife alive after she had died. "Telling me this tale my friend encouraged me; and himself accompanied me; and so roaming about with him, I reached this land, and here I saw a mighty elephant and a wild boar. And, (wonderful to say!) I saw that elephant bring my helpless wife out of his mouth, and swallow her again; and I followed that elephant, which appeared for a moment and then disappeared for a long time, and in my search for it I have now, thanks to my merits, beheld your Majesty here." When the young merchant had said this, Vikramáditya sent for his wife, whom he had rescued by killing the elephant, and handed her over to him. And then the couple, delighted at their marvellous reunion, recounted their adventures to one another, and their mouths were loud in praise of the glorious king Vishamasíla. CHAPTER CXXIV. Then King Vikramáditya put this question to the friend of the young merchant, who came with him, "You said that you recovered your wife alive after she was dead; how could that be? Tell us, good sir, the whole story at length." When the king said this to the friend of the young merchant, the latter answered, "Listen, king, if you have any curiosity about it; I proceed to tell the story." Story of Chandrasvámin who recovered his wife alive after her death. I am a young Bráhman of the name of Chandrasvámin, living on that magnificent grant to Bráhmans, called Brahmasthala, and I have a beautiful wife in my house. One day I had gone to the village for some object, by my father's orders, and a kápálika, who had come to beg, cast eyes on that wife of mine. She caught a fever from the moment he looked at her, and in the evening she died. Then my relations took her, and put her on the pyre during the night. And when the pyre was in full blaze, I returned there from the village; and I heard what had happened from my family who wept before me. Then I went near the pyre, and the kápálika came there with the magic staff dancing [813] on his shoulder, and the booming drum in his hand. He quenched the flume of the pyre, king, by throwing ashes on it, [814] and then my wife rose up from the midst of it uninjured. The kápálika took with him my wife who followed him, drawn by his magic power, and ran off quickly, and I followed him with my bow and arrows. And when he reached a cave on the bank of the Ganges, he put the magic staff down on the ground, and said exultingly to two maidens who were in it, "She, without whom I could not marry you, though I had obtained you, has come into my possession; and so my vow has been successfully accomplished," [815] Saying this he shewed them my wife, and at that moment I flung his magic staff into the Ganges; and when he had lost his magic power by the loss of the staff, I reproached him, exclaiming, "Kápálika, as you wish to rob me of my wife, you shall live no longer." Then the scoundrel, not seeing his magic staff, tried to run away; but I drew my bow and killed him with a poisoned arrow. Thus do heretics, who feign the vows of Siva only for the pleasure of accomplishing nefarious ends, fall, though their sin has already sunk them deep enough. Then I took my wife, and those other two maidens, and I returned home, exciting the astonishment of my relations. Then I asked those two maidens to tell me their history, and they gave me this answer, "We are the daughters respectively of a king and a chief merchant in Benares, and the kápálika carried us off by the same magic process by which he carried off your wife, and thanks to you we have been delivered from the villain without suffering insult." This was their tale; and the next day I took them to Benares, and handed them over to their relations, after telling what had befallen them. [816] And as I was returning thence, I saw this young merchant, who had lost his wife, and I came here with him. Moreover, I anointed my body with an ointment that I found in the cave of the kápálika; and, observe, perfume still exhales from it, even though it has been washed. "In this sense did I recover my wife arisen from the dead." When the Bráhman had told this story, the king honoured him and the young merchant, and sent them on their way. And then that king Vikramáditya, taking with him Gunavatí, Chandravatí, and Madanasundarí, and having met his own forces, returned to the city of Ujjayiní, and there he married Gunavatí and Chandravatí. Then the king called to mind the figure carved on a pillar that he had seen in the temple built by Visvakarman, and he gave this order to the warder, "Let an ambassador be sent to Kalingasena to demand from him that maiden whose likeness I saw carved on the pillar." When the warder received this command from the king, he brought before him an ambassador named Suvigraha, and sent him off with a message. So the ambassador went to the country of Kalinga, and when he had seen the king Kalingasena, he delivered to him the message with which he had been entrusted, which was as follows, "King, the glorious sovereign Vikramáditya sends you this command, 'You know that every jewel on the earth comes to me as my due; and you have a pearl of a daughter, so hand her over to me, and then by my favour you shall enjoy in your own realm an unopposed sway.'" When the king of Kalinga heard this, he was very angry, and he said, "Who is this king Vikramáditya? Does he presume to give me orders and ask for my daughter as a tribute? Blinded with pride he shall be cast down." When the ambassador heard this from Kalingasena, he said to him, "How can you, being a servant, dare to set yourself up against your master? You do not know your place. What, madman, do you wish to be shrivelled like a moth in the fire of his wrath?" When the ambassador had said this, he returned and communicated to king Vikramáditya that speech of Kalingasena's. Then king Vikramáditya, being angry, marched out with his forces to attack the king of Kalinga, and the Vetála Bhútaketu went with him. As he marched along, the quarters, re-echoing the roar of his army, seemed to say to the king of Kalinga, "Surrender the maiden quickly," and so he reached that country. When king Vikramáditya saw the king of Kalinga ready for battle, he surrounded him with his forces; but then he thought in his mind, "I shall never be happy without this king's daughter; and yet how can I kill my own father-in-law? Suppose I have recourse to some stratagem." When the king had gone through these reflections, he went with the Vetála, and by his supernatural power entered the bedchamber of the king of Kalinga at night, when he was asleep, without being seen. Then the Vetála woke up the king, and when he was terrified, said to him laughing, "What! do you dare to sleep, when you are at war with king Vikramáditya?" Then the king of Kalinga rose up, and seeing the monarch, who had thus shown his daring, standing with a terrible Vetála at his side, and recognising him, bowed trembling at his feet, and said, "King, I now acknowledge your supremacy; tell me what I am to do." And the king answered him, "If you wish to have me as your overlord, give me your daughter Kalingasená." Then the king of Kalinga agreed, and promised to give him his daughter, and so the monarch returned successful to his camp. And the next day, queen, your father the king of Kalinga bestowed you on king Vishamasíla with appropriate ceremonies, and a splendid marriage-gift. Thus, queen, you were lawfully married by the king out of his deep love for you, and at the risk of his own life, and not out of any desire to triumph over an enemy. "When I heard this story, my friends, from the mouth of the kárpatika Devasena, I dismissed my anger, which was caused by the contempt with which I supposed myself to have been treated. So, you see, this king was induced to marry me by seeing a likeness of me carved on a pillar, and to marry Malayavatí by seeing a painted portrait of her." In these words Kalingasená, the beloved wife of king Vikramáditya, described her husband's might, and delighted his other wives. Then Vikramáditya, accompanied by all of them, and by Malayavatí, remained delighting in his empire. Then, one day, a Rájpút named Krishnasakti, who had been oppressed by the members of his clan, came there from the Dakkan. He went to the palace-gate surrounded by five hundred Rájpúts, and took on himself the vow of kárpatika to the king. And though the king tried to dissuade him, he made this declaration, "I will serve king Vikramáditya for twelve years." And he remained at the gate of the palace, with his followers, determined to carry out this vow, and while he was thus engaged, eleven years passed over his head. And when the twelfth year came, his wife, who was in another land, grieved at her long separation from him, sent him a letter; and he happened to be reading this Áryá verse which she had written in the letter, at night, by the light of a candle, when the king, who had gone out in search of adventures, was listening concealed, "Hot, long, and tremulous, do these sighs issue forth from me, during thy absence, my lord, but not the breath of life, hard-hearted woman that I am!" When the king had heard this read over and over again by the kárpatika, he went to his palace and said to himself, "This kárpatika, whose wife is in such despondency, has long endured affliction, and if his objects are not gained, he will, when this twelfth year is at an end, yield his breath. So I must not let him wait any longer." After going through these reflections, the king at once sent a female slave, and summoned that kárpatika. And after he had caused a grant to be written, he gave him this order, "My good fellow, go towards the northern quarter through Omkárapítha; there live on the proceeds of a village of the name of Khandavataka, which I give you by this grant; you will find it by asking your way as you go along." When the king had said this, he gave the grant into his hands; and the kárpatika went off by night without telling his followers. He was dissatisfied, saying to himself, "How shall I be helped to conquer my enemies by a single village that will rather disgrace me? Nevertheless my sovereign's orders must be obeyed." So he slowly went on, and having passed Omkárapítha, he saw in a distant forest many maidens playing, and then he asked them this question, "Do you know where Khandavataka is?" When they heard that, they answered, "We do not know; go on further; our father lives only ten yojanas from here; ask him; he may perhaps know of that village." When the maidens had said this to him, the kárpatika went on, and beheld their father, a Rákshasa of terrific appearance. He said to him, "Whereabouts here is Khandavataka? Tell me, my good fellow." And the Rákshasa, quite taken aback by his courage, said to him, "What have you got to do there? The city has been long deserted; but if you must go, listen; this road in front of you divides into two: take the one on the left hand, and go on until you reach the main entrance of Khandavataka, the lofty ramparts on each side of which make it attract the eye." When the Rákshasa had told him this, he went on, and reached that main street, and entered that city, which, though of heavenly beauty, was deserted and awe-inspiring. And in it he entered the palace, which was surrounded with seven zones, and ascended the upper storey of it, which was made of jewels and gold. There he saw a gem-bestudded throne, and he sat down on it. Thereupon a Rákshasa came with a wand in his hand, and said to him, "Mortal, why have you sat down here on the king's throne?" When the resolute kárpatika Krishnasakti heard this, he said, "I am lord here; and you are tribute-paying house-holders whom king Vikramáditya has made over to me by his grant." When the Rákshasa heard that, he looked at the grant, and bowing before him, said, "You are king here, and I am your warder; for the decrees of king Vikramáditya are binding everywhere." When the Rákshasa had said this, he summoned all the subjects, and the ministers and the king's retinue presented themselves there; and that city was filled with an army of four kinds of troops. And every one paid his respects to the kárpatika; and he was delighted, and performed his bathing and his other ceremonies with royal luxury. Then, having become a king, he said to himself with amazement; "Astonishing truly is the power of king Vikramáditya; and strangely unexampled is the depth of his dignified reserve, in that he bestows a kingdom like this and calls it a village!" Full of amazement at this, he remained there ruling as a king: and Vikramáditya supported his followers in Ujjayiní. And after some days this kárpatika become a king went eagerly to pay his respects to king Vikramáditya, shaking the earth with his army. And when he arrived and threw himself at the feet of Vikramáditya, that king said to him, "Go and put a stop to the sighs of your wife who sent you the letter." When the king despatched him with these words, Krishnasakti, full of wonder, went with his friends to his own land. There he drove out his kinsmen, and delighted his wife, who had been long pining for him; and having gained more even than he had ever wished for, enjoyed the most glorious royal fortune. So wonderful were the deeds of king Vikramáditya. Now one day he saw a Bráhman with every hair on his head and body standing on end; and he said to him, "What has reduced you, Bráhman, to this state?" Then the Bráhman told him his story in the following words: Story of Devasvámin the permanently horripilant Bráhman. There lived in Pátaliputra a Bráhman of the name of Agnisvámin, a great maintainer of the sacrificial fire; and I am his son, Devasvámin by name. And I married the daughter of a Bráhman who lived in a distant land, and because she was a child, I left her in her father's house. One day I mounted a mare, and went with one servant to my father-in-law's house to fetch her. There my father-in-law welcomed me; and I set out from his house with my wife, who was mounted on the mare, and had one maid with her. And when we had got half way, my wife got off the mare, and went to the bank of the river, pretending that she wanted to drink water. And as she remained a long time without coming back, I sent the servant, who was with me, to the bank of the river to look for her. And as he also remained a long time without coming back, I went there myself, leaving the maid to take care of the mare. And when I went and looked, I found that my wife's mouth was stained with blood, and that she had devoured my servant, and left nothing of him but the bones. [817] In my terror I left her, and went back to find the mare, and lo! her maid had in the same way eaten that. Then I fled from the place, and the fright I got on that occasion still remains in me, so that even now I cannot prevent the hair on my head and body from standing on end. [818] "So you, king, are my only hope." When the Bráhman said this, Vikramáditya by his sovereign fiat relieved him of all fear. Then the king said, "Out on it! One cannot repose any confidence in women, for they are full of daring wickedness." When the king said this, a minister remarked, "Yes, king! women are fully as wicked as you say. By the bye, have you not heard what happened to the Bráhman Agnisarman here?" Story of Agnisarman. [819] There lives in this very city a Bráhman named Agnisarman, the son of Somasarman; whom his parents loved as their life, but who was a fool and ignorant of every branch of knowledge. He married the daughter of a Bráhman in the city of Vardhamána; but her father, who was rich, would not let her leave his house, on the ground that she was a mere child. And when she grew up, Agnisarman's parents said to him, "Son, why do you not now go and fetch your wife?" When Agnisarman heard that, the stupid fellow went off alone to fetch her, without taking leave of his parents. When he left his house a partridge appeared on his right hand, and a jackal howled on his left hand, a sure prophet of evil. [820] And the fool welcomed the omen saying, "Hail! Hail!" and when the deity presiding over the omen heard it, she laughed at him unseen. And when he reached his father-in-law's place, and was about to enter it, a partridge appeared on his right, and a jackal on his left, boding evil. And again he welcomed the omen, exclaiming "Hail! Hail!" and again the goddess of the omen, hearing it, laughed at him unseen. And that goddess presiding over the omen said to herself, "Why, this fool welcomes bad luck as if it were good! So I must give him the luck which he welcomes, I must contrive to save his life." While the goddess was going through these reflections, Agnisarman entered his father-in-law's house, and was joyfully welcomed. And his father-in-law and his family asked him, why he had come alone, and he answered them, "I came without telling any one at home." Then he bathed and dined in the appropriate manner, and when night came on, his wife came to his sleeping apartment adorned. But he fell asleep fatigued with the journey; and then she went out to visit a paramour of hers, a thief, who had been impaled. But, while she was embracing his body, the demon that had entered it, bit off her nose; and she fled thence in fear. And she went and placed an unsheathed [821] dagger at her sleeping husband's side; and cried out loud enough for all her relations to hear, "Alas! Alas! I am murdered; this wicked husband of mine has got up and without any cause actually cut off my nose." When her relations heard that, they came, and seeing that her nose was cut off, they beat Agnisarman with sticks and other weapons. And the next day they reported the matter to the king, and by his orders they made him over to the executioners, to be put to death, as having injured his innocent wife. But when he was being taken to the place of execution, the goddess presiding over that omen, who had seen the proceedings of his wife during the night, said to herself, "This man has reaped the fruit of the evil omens, but as he said, 'Hail! Hail!' I must save him from execution." Having thus reflected, the goddess exclaimed unseen from the air, "Executioners, this young Bráhman is innocent; you must not put him to death: go and see the nose between the teeth of the impaled thief." When she had said this, she related the proceedings of his wife during the night. Then the executioners, believing the story, represented it to the king by the mouth of the warder, and the king, seeing the nose between the teeth of the thief, remitted the capital sentence passed on Agnisarman, and sent him home; and punished that wicked wife, and imposed a penalty on her relations [822] also. "Such, king, is the character of women." When that minister had said this, King Vikramáditya approved his saying, exclaiming, "So it is." Then the cunning Múladeva, who was near the king, said, "King, are there no good women, though some are bad? Are there no mango-creepers, as well as poisonous creepers? In proof that there are good women, hear what happened to me." Story of Múladeva. [823] I went once to Pátaliputra with Sasin, thinking that it was the home of polished wits, and longing to make trial of their cleverness. In a tank outside that city I saw a woman washing clothes, and I put this question to her, "Where do travellers stay here?" The old woman gave me an evasive answer, saying, "Here the Brahmany ducks stay on the banks, the fish in the water, the bees in the lotuses, but I have never seen any part where travellers stay." When I got this answer, I was quite nonplussed, and I entered the city with Sasin. There Sasin saw a boy crying at the door of a house, with a warm [824] rice-pudding on a plate in front of him, and he said, "Dear me! this is a foolish child not to eat the pudding in front of him, but to vex himself with useless weeping." When the child heard this, he wiped his eyes, and said laughing, "You fools do not know the advantages I get by crying. The pudding gradually cools and so becomes nice, and another good comes out of it; my phlegm is diminished thereby. These are the advantages I derive from crying; I do not cry out of folly; but you country bumpkins are fools because you do not see what I do it for." When the boy said this, Sasin and I were quite abashed at our stupidity, and we went away astonished to another part of the town. There we saw a beautiful young lady on the trunk of a mango-tree, gathering mangoes, while her attendants stood at its foot. We said to the young lady, "Give us also some mangoes, fair one." And she answered, "Would you like to eat your mangoes cold or hot?" When I heard that, I said to her, wishing to penetrate the mystery, "We should like, lovely one, to eat some warm ones first, and to have the others afterwards." When she heard this, she flung down some mango-fruits into the dust on the ground. We blew the dust off them and then ate them. Then the young lady and her attendants laughed, and she said to us, "I first gave you these warm mangoes, and you cooled them by blowing on them, and then ate them; catch these cool ones, which will not require blowing on, in your clothes." When she had said this, she threw some more fruits into the flaps of our garments. We took them, and left that place thoroughly ashamed of ourselves. Then I said to Sasin and my other companions, "Upon my word I must marry this clever girl, and pay her out for the way in which she has made a fool of me; otherwise what becomes of my reputation for sharpness?" When I said this to them, they found out her father's house, and on a subsequent day we went there disguised so that we could not be recognised. And while we were reading the Veda there, her father the Bráhman Yajnasvámin came up to us, and said, "Where do you come from?" We said to that rich and noble Bráhman, "We have come here from the city of Máyápurí to study;" thereupon he said to us, "Then stay the next four months in my house; shew me this favour, as you have come from a distant country." When we heard this, we said, "We will do what you say, Bráhman, if you will give us, at the end of the four months, whatever we may ask for." When we said this to Yajnasvámin, he answered, "If you ask for anything that it is in my power to give, I will certainly give it." When he made this promise, we remained in his house. And when the four months were at an end, we said to that Bráhman, "We are going away, so give us what we ask for, as you long ago promised to do." He said, "What is that?" Then Sasin pointed to me and said, "Give your daughter to this man, who is our chief." Then the Bráhman Yajnasvámin, being bound by his promise, thought, "These fellows have tricked me; never mind; there can be no harm in it; he is a deserving youth." So he gave me his daughter with the usual ceremonies. And when night came, I said laughing to the bride in the bridal chamber, "Do you remember those warm and those cool mangoes?" When she heard this, she recognised me, and said with a smile, "Yes, country bumpkins are tricked in this way by city wits." Then I said to her, "Rest you fair, city wit; I vow that I the country bumpkin will desert you and go far away." When she heard this, she also made a vow, saying, "I too am resolved, for my part, that a son of mine by you shall bring you back again." When we had made one another these promises, she went to sleep with her face turned away, and I put my ring on her finger, while she was asleep. Then I went out, and joining my companions, started for my native city of Ujjayiní, wishing to make trial of her cleverness. The Bráhman's daughter, not seeing me next morning, when she woke up, but seeing a ring on her finger marked with my name, said to herself, "So he has deserted me, and gone off; well, he has been as good as his word; and I must keep mine too, dismissing all regrets. And I see by this ring that his name is Múladeva; so no doubt he is that very Múladeva, who is so renowned for cunning. And people say that his permanent home is Ujjayiní; so I must go there, and accomplish my object by an artifice." When she had made up her mind to this, she went and made this false statement to her father, "My father, my husband has deserted me immediately after marriage; and how can I live here happily without him; so I will go on a pilgrimage to holy waters, and will so mortify this accursed body." Having said this, and having wrung a permission from her unwilling father, she started off from her house with her wealth and her attendants. She procured a splendid dress suitable to a hetæra, and travelling along she reached Ujjayiní, and entered it as the chief beauty of the world. And having arranged with her attendants every detail of her scheme, that young Bráhman lady assumed the name of Sumangalá. And her servants proclaimed everywhere, "A hetæra named Sumangalá has come from Kámarúpa, and her goodwill is only to be procured by the most lavish expenditure." Then a distinguished hetæra of Ujjayiní, named Devadattá, came to her, and gave her her own palace worthy of a king, to dwell in by herself. And when she was established there, my friend Sasin first sent a message to her by a servant, saying, "Accept a present from me which is won by your great reputation." But Sumangalá sent back this message by the servant, "The lover who obeys my commands may enter here: I do not care for a present, nor for other beast-like men." Sasin accepted the terms, and repaired at night-fall to her palace. And when he came to the first door of the palace, and had himself announced, the door-keeper said to him, "Obey our lady's commands. Even though you may have bathed, you must bathe again here; otherwise you cannot be admitted." When Sasin heard this, he agreed to bathe again as he was bid. Then he was bathed and anointed all over by her female slaves, in private, and while this was going on, the first watch of the night passed away. When he arrived, having bathed, at the second door, the door-keeper said to him, "You have bathed; now adorn yourself appropriately." He consented, and thereupon the lady's female slaves adorned him, and meanwhile the second watch of the night came to an end. Then he reached the door of the third zone, and there the guards said to him, "Take a meal, and then enter." He said "Very well," and then the female slaves managed to delay him with various dishes until the third watch passed away. Then he reached at last the fourth door, that of the lady's private apartments, but there the door-keeper reproached him in the following words, "Away, boorish suitor, lest you draw upon yourself misfortune. Is the last watch of the night a proper time for paying the first visit to a lady?" When Sasin had been turned away in this contemptuous style by the warder, who seemed like an incarnation of untimeliness, he went away home with countenance sadly fallen. In the same way that Bráhman's daughter, who had assumed the name of Sumangalá, disappointed many other visitors. When I heard of it, I was moved with curiosity, and after sending a messenger to and fro I went at night splendidly adorned to her house. There I propitiated the warders at every door with magnificent presents, and I reached without delay the private apartments of that lady. And as I had arrived in time I was allowed by the door-keepers to pass the door, and I entered and saw my wife, whom I did not recognise, owing to her being disguised as a hetæra. But she knew me again, and she advanced towards me, and paid me all the usual civilities, made me sit down on a couch, and treated me with the attentions of a cunning hetæra. Then I passed the night with that wife of mine, who was the most beautiful woman of the world, and I became so attached to her, that I could not leave the house in which she was staying. She too was devoted to me, and never left my side, until, after some days, the blackness of the tips of her breasts shewed that she was pregnant. Then the clever woman forged a letter, and shewed it to me, saying, "The king my sovereign has sent me a letter: read it." Then I opened the letter and read as follows, "The august sovereign of the fortunate Kámarúpa, Mánasinha, sends thence this order to Sumangalá, 'Why do you remain so long absent? Return quickly, dismissing your desire of seeing foreign countries.'" When I had read this letter, she said to me with affected grief, "I must depart; do not be angry with me; I am subject to the will of others." Having made this false excuse, she returned to her own city Pátaliputra: but I did not follow her, though deeply in love with her, as I supposed that she was not her own mistress. And when she was in Pátaliputra, she gave birth in due time to a son. And that boy grew up and learned all the accomplishments. And when he was twelve years old, that boy in a childish freak happened to strike with a creeper a fisherman's son of the same age. When the fisherman's son was beaten, he flew in a passion and said, "You beat me, though nobody knows who your father is; for your mother roamed about in foreign lands, and you were born to her by some husband or other." [825] When this was said to the boy, he was put to shame; so he went and said to his mother, "Mother, who and where is my father? Tell me!" Then his mother, the daughter of the Bráhman, reflected a moment, and said to him, "Your father's name is Múladeva: he deserted me, and went to Ujjayiní." After she had said this, she told him her whole story from the beginning. Then the boy said to her, "Mother, then I will go and bring my father back a captive; I will make your promise good." Having said this to his mother, and having been told by her how to recognise me, the boy set out thence, and reached this city of Ujjayiní. And he came and saw me playing dice in the gambling-hall, making certain of my identity from the description his mother had given him, and he conquered in play all who were there. And he astonished every one there by shewing such remarkable cunning, though he was a mere child. Then he gave away to the needy all the money he had won at play. And at night he artfully came and stole my bedstead from under me, letting me gently down on a heap of cotton, while I was asleep. So when I woke up, and saw myself on a heap of cotton, without a bedstead, I was at once filled with mixed feelings of shame, amusement and astonishment. Then, king, I went at my leisure to the market-place, and roaming about, I saw that boy there selling the bedstead. So I went up to him and said, "For what price will you give me this bedstead?" Then the boy said to me, "You cannot get the bedstead for money, crest-jewel of cunning ones; but you may get it by telling some strange and wonderful story." When I heard that, I said to him, "Then I will tell you a marvellous tale. And if you understand it and admit that it is really true, you may keep the bedstead; but if you say that it is not true and that you do not believe it, [826] you will be illegitimate, and I shall get back the bedstead. On this condition I agree to tell you a marvel; and now listen!--Formerly there was a famine in the kingdom of a certain king; that king himself cultivated the back of the beloved of the boar with great loads of spray from the chariots of the snakes. Enriched with the grain thus produced the king put a stop to the famine among his subjects, and gained the esteem of men." When I said this, the boy laughed and said, "The chariots of the snakes are clouds; the beloved of the boar is the earth, for she is said to have been most dear to Vishnu in his Boar incarnation; and what is there to be astonished at in the fact that rain from the clouds made grain to spring on the earth?" When the cunning boy had said this, he went on to say to me, who was astonished at his cleverness, "Now I will tell you a strange tale. If you understand it, and admit that it is really true, I will give you back this bedstead, otherwise you shall be my slave." I answered "Agreed;" and then the cunning boy said this, "Prince of knowing ones, there was born long ago on this earth a wonderful boy, who, as soon as he was born, made the earth tremble with the weight of his feet, and when he grew bigger, stepped into another world." When the boy said this, I, not knowing what he meant, answered him, "It is false; there is not a word of truth in it." Then the boy said to me, "Did not Vishnu, as soon as he was born, stride across the earth, in the form of a dwarf, and make it tremble? And did he not, on that same occasion, grow bigger, and step into heaven? So you have been conquered by me, and reduced to slavery. And these people present in the market are witnesses to our agreement. So, wherever I go, you must come along with me." When the resolute boy had said this, he laid hold of my arm with his hand; and all the people there testified to the justice of his claim. Then, having made me his prisoner, bound by my own agreement, he, accompanied by his attendants, took me to his mother in the city of Pátaliputra. And then his mother looked at him, and said to me, "My husband, my promise has to-day been made good, I have had you brought here by a son of mine begotten by you." When she had said this, she related the whole story in the presence of all. Then all her relations respectfully congratulated her on having accomplished her object by her wisdom, and on having had her disgrace wiped out by her son. And I, having been thus fortunate, lived there for a long time with that wife, and that son, and then returned to this city of Ujjayiní. "So you see, king, honourable matrons are devoted to their husbands, and it is not the case that all women are always bad." When king Vikramáditya had heard this speech from the mouth of Múladeva, he rejoiced with his ministers. Thus hearing, and seeing, and doing wonders, that king Vikramáditya [827] conquered and enjoyed all the divisions of the earth. "When the hermit Kanva had told during the night this story of Vishamasíla, dealing with separations and reunions, he went on to say to me who was cut off from the society of Madanamanchuká; 'Thus do unexpected separations and reunions of beings take place, and so you, Naraváhanadatta, shall soon be reunited to your beloved. Have recourse to patience, and you shall enjoy for a long time, son of the king of Vatsa, surrounded by your wives and ministers, the position of a beloved emperor of the Vidyádharas.' This admonition of the hermit Kanva enabled me to recover patience; and so I got through my time of separation, and I gradually obtained wives, magic, science, and the sovereignty over the Vidyádharas. And I told you before, great hermits, how I obtained all these by the favour of Siva, the giver of boons." By telling this his tale, in the hermitage of Kasyapa, Naraváhanadatta delighted his mother's brother Gopálaka and all the hermits. And after he had passed there the days of the rainy season, he took leave of his uncle and the hermits in the grove of asceticism, and mounting his chariot, departed thence with his wives and his ministers, filling the air with the hosts of his Vidyádharas. And in course of time he reached the mountain of Rishabha his dwelling-place; and he remained there delighting in the enjoyments of empire, in the midst of the kings of the Vidyádharas, with queen Madanamanchuká, and Ratnaprabhá and his other wives; and his life lasted for a kalpa. This is the story called Vrihatkathá, told long ago, on the summit of mount Kailása, by the undaunted [828] Siva, at the request of the daughter of the Himálaya, and then widely diffused in the world by Pushpadanta and his fellows, who were born on the earth wearing the forms of Kátyáyana and others, in consequence of a curse. And on that occasion that god her husband attached the following blessing to this tale, "Whoever reads this tale that issued from my mouth, and whoever listens to it with attention, and whoever possesses it, shall soon be released from his sins, and triumphantly attain the condition of a splendid Vidyádhara, and enter my everlasting world." END OF THE COLLECTION OF TALES CALLED THE KATHÁ SARIT SÁGARA. NOTES TO VOLUME I [1] Dr. Brockhaus explains this of Ganesa, he is probably associated with Siva in the dance. So the poet invokes two gods, Siva and Ganesa, and one goddess Sarasvatí, the goddess of speech and learning. [2] Sítkára a sound made by drawing in the breath, expressive of pleasure. [3] There is a double meaning: padártha also means words and their meanings. [4] Possibly the meaning is that the mountain covers many thousand yojanas. [5] This mountain served the gods and Asuras as a churning stick at the churning of the ocean for the recovery of the Amrita and fourteen other precious things lost during the deluge. [6] Siva himself wears a moon's crescent. [7] The Sanskrit word Asti meaning "thus it is" is a common introduction to a tale. [8] The linga or phallus is a favourite emblem of Siva. Flame is one of his eight tanus or forms. [9] He was burnt up by the fire of Siva's eye. [10] Compare Kumára Sambhava Sarga V, line 86. [11] Reading tatsanchayáya as one word. Dr. Brockhaus omits the line. Professor E. B. Cowell would read priyam for priye. [12] One of Siva's favourite attendants. [13] Attendants of Siva, presided over by Ganesa. [14] For the ativiníta of Dr. Brockhaus's text I read aviníta. [15] Pramatha, an attendant on Siva. [16] Kausámbí succeeded Hastinápur as the capital of the emperors of India. Its precise site has not been ascertained, but it was probably somewhere in the Doabá, or at any rate not far from the west bank of the Yamuná, as it bordered upon Magadha and was not far from the Vindhya hills. It is said that there are ruins at Karáli or Karári about 14 miles from Allahábád on the western road, which may indicate the site of Kausámbí. It is possible also that the mounds of rubbish about Karrah may conceal some vestiges of the ancient capital--a circumstance rendered more probable by the inscription found there, which specifies Kata as comprised within Kausámba mandala or the district of Kausámbí. [Note in Wilson's Essays, p. 163.] See note on page 281. [17] A tree of Indra's Paradise that grants all desires. [18] More literally, the goddess that dwells in the Vindhya hills. Her shrine is near Mirzápúr. [19] Dr. Brockhaus makes parusha a proper name. [20] Ficus Indica. [21] Pumán = Purusha, the spirit. [22] Prakriti, the original source or rather passive power of creating the material world. [23] Prajápati. [24] The spirit was of course Brahmá whose head Siva cut off. [25] It appears from an article in Mélusine by A Bart, entitled An Ancient Manual of Sorcery, and consisting mainly of passages translated from Burnell's Sámavidhána Bráhmana, that this power can be acquired in the following way, "After a fast of three nights, take a plant of soma (Asclepias acida;) recite a certain formula and eat of the plant a thousand times, you will be able to repeat anything after hearing it once. Or bruise the flowers in water, and drink the mixture for a year. Or drink soma, that is to say the fermented juice of the plant for a month. Or do it always." (Mélusine, 1878, p. 107; II, 7, 4-7.) In the Milinda Pañho, (Pali Miscellany by V. Trenckner, Part. I, p. 14,) the child Nágasena learns the whole of the three Vedas by hearing them repeated once. [26] A grammatical treatise on the rules regulating the euphonic combination of letters and their pronunciation peculiar to one of the different Sákhás or branches of the Vedas.--M. W. s. v. [27] i. e., died. [28] Here we have a pun which it is impossible to render in English. Anátha means without natural protectors and also poor. [29] Taking chháyá in the sense of sobhá. It might mean "affording no shelter to the inmates." [30] Dr. Brockhaus translates the line--Von diesem wurde ich meinem Manne vermählt, um seinem Hauswesen vorzustehen. [31] Like the Roman fascinum. guhya = phallus. [32] I read tat for táh according to a conjecture of Professor E. B. Cowell's. He informs me on the authority of Dr. Rost that the only variants are sá for táh and yoshitá for yoshitah. Dr. Rost would take evamkrite as the dative of evamkrit. If táh be retained it may be taken as a repetition "having thus prepared it, I say, the women give it." Professor Cowell would translate (if táh be retained) "the women then do not need to receive anything to relieve their fatigue during the cold and hot weather." Professor E. B. Cowell has referred me to an article by Dr. Liebrecht in the Zeitschrift der Morgenländischen Gesellschaft. He connects the custom with that of the Jewish women mentioned in Jeremiah VII. 18, "The women knead their dough to make cakes to the queen of heaven," and he quotes a curious custom practised on Palm Sunday in the town of Saintes. Dulaure states that in his time the festival was called there La fête des Pinnes; the women and children carried in the procession a phallus made of bread, which they called a pinne, at the end of their palm branches; those pinnes were subsequently blessed by the priest, and carefully preserved by the women during the year. This article has been republished by the learned author in his "Zur Volkskunde" (Heilbronn, 1879) p. 436 and f f. under the title of "der aufgegessene Gott." It contains many interesting parallels to the custom described in the text. [33] Literally bodiless--she heard the voice, but saw no man. [34] Vara = excellent ruch = to please. [35] I. e. Palibothra. [36] Wilson remarks (Essays on Sanskrit Literature, Vol. I, p. 165). "The contemporary existence of Nanda with Vararuchi and Vyádi is a circumstance of considerable interest in the literary history of the Hindus, as the two latter are writers of note on philological topics. Vararuchi is also called in this work Kátyáyana, who is one of the earliest commentators on Pánini. Nanda is the predecessor or one of the predecessors of Chandragupta or Sandrakottos; and consequently the chief institutes of Sanskrit grammar are thus dated from the fourth century before the Christian era. We need not suppose that Somadeva took the pains to be exact here; but it is satisfactory to be made acquainted with the general impressions of a writer who has not been biassed in any of his views by Pauránik legends and preposterous chronology." [37] I. e., of learning and material prosperity. [38] Literally the gate of the Ganges: it is now well known under the name of Haridvár (Hurdwar). [39] Dr. Brockhaus renders the passage "wo Siva die Jahnaví im goldenen Falle von den Gipfeln des Berges Usínara herabsandte." [40] Skanda is Kártikeya and his mother is of course Durgá or Párvatí the consort of Siva. [41] This may be compared with Grimm's No. 60, "Die zwei Brüder." Each of the brothers finds every day a gold piece under his pillow. In one of Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, Vogelkopf und Vogelherz (p. 90) a boy named Fortunat eats the heart of the Glücksvogel and under his pillow every day are found three ducats. See also Der Vogel Goldschweif, in Gaal's Märchen der Magyaren, p. 195. [42] In this case the austerities which he had performed in a former birth to propitiate Siva. [43] This story is, according to Dr. Rajendra Lál Mitra, found in a MS. called the Bodhisattva Avadána. (Account of the Buddhist Literature of Nepal, p. 53). [44] I. e., bali, a portion of the daily meal offered to creatures of every description, especially the household spirits. Practically the bali generally falls to some crow, hence that bird is called balibhuj. [45] A similar incident is found in Grimm's Fairy Tales translated by Mrs. Paull, p. 370. The hero of the tale called the Crystal Ball finds two giants fighting for a little hat. On his expressing his wonder, "Ah", they replied, "you call it old, you do not know its value. It is what is called a wishing-hat, and whoever puts it on can wish himself where he will, and immediately he is there." "Give me the hat," replied the young man, "I will go on a little way and when I call you must both run a race to overtake me, and whoever reaches me first, to him the hat shall belong." The giants agreed and the youth taking the hat put it on and went away; but he was thinking so much of the princess that he forgot the giants and the hat, and continued to go further and further without calling them. Presently he sighed deeply and said, "Ah, if I were only at the Castle of the golden sun." Wilson (Collected Works, Vol. III, p. 169, note,) observes that "the story is told almost in the same words in the Bahár Dánish, a purse being substituted for the rod; Jahándár obtains possession of it, as well as the cup, and slippers in a similar manner. Weber [Eastern Romances, Introduction, p. 39] has noticed the analogy which the slippers bear to the cap of Fortunatus. The inexhaustible purse, although not mentioned here, is of Hindu origin also, and a fraudulent representative of it makes a great figure in one of the stories of the Dasa Kumára Charita" [ch. 2, see also L. Deslongchamps Essai sur les Fables Indiennes, Paris, 1838, p. 35 f. and Grässe, Sagen des Mittelalters, Leipzig, 1842, p. 19 f.] The additions between brackets are due to Dr. Reinholdt Rost the editor of Wilson's Essays. The Mongolian form of the story may be found in Sagas from the Far East, p. 24. A similar incident is also found in the Swedish story in Thorpe's Scandinavian Tales, entitled "the Beautiful Palace East of the Sun and North of the Earth." A youth acquires boots by means of which he can go a hundred miles at every step, and a cloak, that renders him invisible, in a very similar way. I find that in the notes in Grimm's 3rd Volume, page 168, (edition of 1856) the passage in Somadeva is referred to, and other parallels given. The author of these notes compares a Swedish story in Cavallius, p. 182, and Pröhle, Kindermärchen, No. 22. He also quotes from the Sidi Kür, the story to which I have referred in Sagas from the Far East, and compares a Norwegian story in Ashbjörnsen, pp. 53, 171, a Hungarian story in Mailath and Gaal, N. 7, and an Arabian tale in the continuation of the 1001 Nights. See also Sicilianische Märchen by Laura Gonzenbach, Part I, Story 31. Here we have a table-cloth, a purse, and a pipe. When the table-cloth is spread out one has only to say--Dear little table-cloth, give macaroni or roast-meat or whatever may be required, and it is immediately present. The purse will supply as much money as one asks it for, and the pipe is something like that of the pied piper of Hamelin,--every one who hears it must dance. Dr. Köhler in his notes, at the end of Laura Gonzenbach's collection, compares (besides the story of Fortunatus, and Grimm III. 202,) Zingerle, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, II. 73 and 193. Curze, Popular Traditions from Waldock, p. 34. Gesta Romanorum, Chap. 120. Campbell's Highland Tales, No. 10, and many others. The shoes in our present story may also be compared with the bed in the IXth Novel of the Xth day of the Decameron. See also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 230 and Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 152. See also the story of "Die Kaiserin Trebisonda" in a collection of South Italian tales by Woldemar Kaden, entitled "Unter den Olivenbäumen" and published in 1880. The hero of this story plays the same trick as Putraka, and gains thereby an inexhaustible purse, a pair of boots which enable the wearer to run like the wind, and a mantle of invisibility. See also "Beutel, Mäntelchen und Wunderhorn" in the same collection, and No. XXII in Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales. The story is found in the Avadánas translated by Stanislas Julien: (Lévêque, Mythes et Légendes de L'Inde et de la Perse, p. 570, Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 117.) M. Lévêque thinks that La Fontaine was indebted to it for his Fable of L' Huître et les Plaideurs. See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, pp. 126-127, and 162. We find a magic ring, brooch and cloth in No. XLIV of the English Gesta. See also Syrische Sagen und Märchen, von Eugen Prym und Albert Socin, p. 79, where there is a flying carpet. There is a magic table-cloth in the Bohemian Story of Büsmanda, (Waldau, p. 44) and a magic pot on p. 436 of the same collection; and a food-providing mesa in the Portuguese story of A Cacheirinha (Coelho, Contos Portuguezes, p. 58). In the Pentamerone No. 42 there is a magic chest. Kuhn has some remarks on the "Tischchen deck dich" of German tales in his Westfälische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 369. For a similar artifice to Putraka's, see the story entitled Fischer-Märchen in Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 168, Waldau, Böhmische Märchen, pp. 260 and 564, and Dasent's Norse Tales, pp. 213 and 214. [46] Compare the way in which Zauberer Vergilius carries off the daughter of the Sultán of Babylon, and founds the town of Naples, which he makes over to her and her children: (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. VI, pp. 354, 355.) Dunlop is of opinion that the mediæval traditions about Vergil are largely derived from Oriental sources. [47] I. e., infantry, cavalry, elephants, and archers. [48] Literally she was splendid with a full bosom, ... glorious with coral lips. For uttama in the 1st half of sloka 6 I read upama. [49] Considered to be indicative of exalted fortune.--Monier Williams. [50] The bimba being an Indian fruit, this expression may he paralleled by "currant lip" in the Two Noble Kinsmen I. I. 216 or "cherry lip" Rich. III. I. I. 94. [51] Goddess of eloquence and learning. [52] See Dr. Burnett's "Aindra grammar" for the bearing of this passage on the history of Sanskrit literature. [53] And will not observe you. [54] Instead of the walls of a seraglio. [55] This story occurs in Scott's Additional Arabian Nights as the Lady of Cairo and her four Gallants, [and in his Tales and Anecdotes, Shrewsbury, 1800, p. 136, as the story of the Merchant's wife and her suitors]. It is also one of the Persian tales of Arouya [day 146 ff.]. It is a story of ancient celebrity in Europe as Constant du Hamel or la Dame qui attrapa un Prêtre, un Prévôt et un Forestier [Le Grand d'Aussy, Fabliaux et Contes. Paris, 1829, Vol. IV, pp. 246-56]. It is curious that the Fabliau alone agrees with the Hindu original in putting the lovers out of the way and disrobing them by the plea of the bath. (Note in Wilson's Essays on Sanskrit Literature, edited by Dr. Rost, Vol. I, p. 173.) See also a story contributed by the late Mr. Damant to the Indian Antiquary, Vol. IX, pp. 2 and 3, and the XXVIIIth story in Indian Fairy Tales collected and translated by Miss Stokes, with the note at the end of the volume. General Cunningham is of opinion that the dénouement of this story is represented in one of the Bharhut Sculptures; see his Stúpa of Bharhut, p. 53. A faint echo of this story is found in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, No. 55, pp. 359-362. Cp. also No. 72(b) in the Novellæ Morlini. (Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 497.) Cp. the 67th Story in Coelho's Contos Populares Portuguezes, and the 29th in the Pentamerone of Basile. There is a somewhat similar story in the English Gesta (Herrtage, No. XXV) in which three knights are killed. A very similar story is quoted in Mélusine, p. 178, from Thorburn's Bannu or our Afghan Frontier. [56] Dr. Brockhaus translates "alle drei mit unsern Schülern." [57] This forms the leading event of the story of Fadlallah in the Persian tales. The dervish there avows his having acquired the faculty of animating a dead body from an aged Bráhman in the Indies. (Wilson.) [58] Compare the story in the Panchatantra, Benfey's Translation, p. 124, of the king who lost his body but eventually recovered it. Benfey in Vol. I, page 128, refers to some European parallels. Liebrecht in his Zur Volkskunde, p. 206, mentions a story found in Apollonius (Historia Mirabilium) which forms a striking parallel to this. According to Apollonius, the soul of Hermotimos of Klazomenæ left his body frequently, resided in different places, and uttered all kinds of predictions, returning to his body which remained in his house. At last some spiteful persons burnt his body in the absence of his soul. There is a slight resemblance to this story in Sagas from the Far East, p. 222. By this it may be connected with a cycle of European tales about princes with ferine skin &c. Apparently a treatise has been written on this story by Herr Varnhagen. It is mentioned in the Saturday Review of 22nd July, 1882 as, "Ein Indisches Märchen auf seiner Wanderung durch die Asiatischen und Europäischen Litteraturen." [59] Or Yogananda. So called as being Nanda by yoga or magic. [60] I read ásvásya. [61] Compare this with the story of Ugolino in Dante's Inferno. [62] Dr. Liebrecht in Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 341 compares with this story one in the old French romance of Merlin. There Merlin laughs because the wife of the emperor Julius Cæsar had twelve young men disguised as ladies-in-waiting. Benfey, in a note on Dr. Liebrecht's article, compares with the story of Merlin one by the Countess D'Aulnoy, No. 36 of the Pentamerone of Basile, Straparola IV. I, and a story in the Suka Saptati. This he quotes from the translation of Demetrios Galanos. In this some cooked fish laugh so that the whole town hears them. The reason is the same as in the story of Merlin and in our text. [63] Cp. the following passage in a Danish story called Svend's exploits, in Thorpe's Yuletide Stories, page 341. Just as he was going to sleep, twelve crows came flying and perched in the elder trees over Svend's head. They began to converse together, and the one told the other what had happened to him that day. When they were about to fly away, one crow said, "I am so hungry; where shall I get something to eat?" "We shall have food enough to-morrow when father has killed Svend," answered the crow's brother. "Dost thou think then that such a miserable fellow dares fight with our father?" said another. "Yes, it is probable enough that he will, but it will not profit him much as our father cannot be overcome but with the Man of the Mount's sword, and that hangs in the mound, within seven locked doors, before each of which are two fierce dogs that never sleep." Svend thus learned that he should only be sacrificing his strength and life in attempting a combat with the dragon, before he had made himself master of the Man of the Mount's sword. So Sigfrid hears two birds talking above his head in Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 345. In the story of Lalitánga extracted by Professor Nilmani Mukerjea from a collection of Jaina tales called the Kathá Kosha, and printed in his Sáhitya Parichaya, Part II, we have a similar incident. [64] Compare the "mole cinque-spotted" in Cymbeline. [65] Compare Measure for Measure. [66] Cp. the story of OEdipus and the Mahábhárata, Vanaparvan, C. 312. where Yudhishthira is questioned by a Yaksha. Benfey compares Mahábhárata XIII (IV, 206) 5883-5918 where a Bráhman seized by a Rákshasa escaped in the same way. The reader will find similar questioning demons described in Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, pp. 54-56, and 109. [67] Reading chuddhis for the chudis of Dr. Brockhaus' text. [68] Sâmanta seems to mean a feudatory or dependent prince. [69] Benfey considers that this story was originally Buddhistic. A very similar story is quoted by him from the Karmasataka. (Panchatantra I, p. 209) cp. also c. 65 of this work. [70] Probably his foot bled, and so he contracted defilement. [71] The preceptor of the gods. [72] See the Mudrá Rákshasa for another version of this story. (Wilson, Hindu Theatre, Vol. II.) Wilson remarks that the story is also told differently in the Puránas. [73] Sanskrit, Prákrit and his own native dialect. [74] I change Dr. Brockhaus's Sákásana into Sákásana. [75] As, according to my reading, he ate vegetables, his blood was turned into the juice of vegetables. Dr. Brockhaus translates machte dass das herausströmende Blut zu Krystallen sich bildete. [76] A celebrated place of pilgrimage near the source of the Ganges, the Bhadrinath of modern travellers. (Monier Williams, s. v.) [77] Pratishthána according to Wilson is celebrated as the capital of Saliváhana. It is identifiable with Peytan on the Godávarí, the Bathana or Paithana of Ptolemy,--the capital of Siripolemaios. Wilson identifies this name with Saliváhana, but Dr. Rost remarks that Lassen more correctly identifies it with that of Srí Pulimán of the Andhra dynasty who reigned at Pratishthána after the overthrow of the house of Saliváhana about 130 A. D. [78] Fabulous serpent-demons having the head of a man with the tail of a serpent.--(Monier Williams, s. v.) [79] It seems to me that tvam in Dr. Brockhaus' text must be a misprint for tam. [80] I. e., rich in virtues, and good qualities. [81] From the Greek dênarion = denarius. (Monier Williams s. v.) Dramma = Gr. drachmê is used in the Panchatantra; see Dr. Bühler's Notes to Panchatantra, IV and V, Note on p. 40, l. 3. [82] Literally wood-carriers. [83] He had made money without capital, so his achievements are compared to pictures suspended in the air? [84] hetaira. [85] The vita or roué meant "conciliation" but the chanter of the Sáma Veda took it to mean "hymn." [86] I. e., seize him with curved hand, and fling him out neck and crop. The Precentor supposed them to mean a crescent-headed arrow. [87] I.e., rich in accomplishments. [88] Indra's pleasure-ground or Elysium. For a similar Zaubergarten see Liebrecht's translation of Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 251, and note 325; and Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 224. To this latter story there is a very close parallel in Játaka No. 220, (Fausböll, Vol. II, p. 188) where Sakko makes a garden for the Bodhisattva, who is threatened with death by the king, if it is not done. [89] Guhyaka here synonymous with Yaksha. The Guhyakas like the Yakshas are attendants upon Kuvera the god of wealth. [90] The tilaka a mark made upon the forehead or between the eyebrows with coloured earths, sandal-wood, &c., serving as an ornament or a sectarial distinction. Monier Williams s. v. [91] The negative particle má coalesces with udakaih (the plural instrumental case of udaka) into modakaih, and modakaih (the single word) means "with sweetmeats." The incident is related in Táránátha's Geschichte des Buddhismus in Indien, uebersetzt von Schiefner, p. 74. [92] So explained by Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. cp. Taranga 72 sl. 103. [93] He afterwards learns to speak in the language of the Pisáchas, goblins, or ogres. [94] Called also Kumára. This was no doubt indicated by the Kumára or boy, who opened the lotus. [95] The chátaka lives on rain-drops, but the poor swan has to take a long journey to the Mánasa lake beyond the snowy hills, at the approach of the rainy season. [96] Kártikeya. [97] More literally sprinkling her with water. See also the 60th Tale in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. II, p. 17. [98] Skanda is another name of Kártikeya. [99] This grammar is extensively in use in the eastern parts of Bengal. The rules are attributed to Sarvavarman, by the inspiration of Kártikeya, as narrated in the text. The vritti or gloss is the work of Durgá Singh and that again is commented on by Trilochana Dása and Kavirája. Vararuchi is the supposed author of an illustration of the Conjugations and Srípati Varmá of a Supplement. Other Commentaries are attributed to Gopí Nátha, Kula Chandra and Visvesvara. (Note in Wilson's Essays, Vol. I. p. 183.) [100] Rishis. [101] Sanskára means tendency produced by some past influence, often works in a former birth. This belief seems to be very general in Wales, see Wirt Sikes, British Goblins, p. 113. See also Kuhn's Herabkunft des Feuers, p. 93, De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 285. [102] For the idea cp. Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I. Sc. 1. (towards the end) and numerous other passages in the same author. [103] Brockhaus renders it Fromme, Helden und Weise. [104] Vaisvánara is an epithet of Agni or Fire. [105] Siva. [106] Cp. the 1st story in the Vetála Panchavinsati, Chapter 75 of this work. See also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 241, where Prince Ivan by the help of his tutor Katoma propounds to the Princess Anna the fair, a riddle which enables him to win her as his wife. [107] The god of justice. [108] Benfey considers this story as Buddhistic in its origin. In the "Memoires Sur les Contrées Occidentales traduits du Sanscrit par Hiouen Thsang et du Chinois par Stanislas Julien" we are expressly told that Gautama Buddha gave his flesh to the hawk as Sivi in a former state of existence. It is told of many other persons, see Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 388, cp. also Campbell's West Highland Tales, p. 239, Vol. I, Tale XVI. M. Lévêque (Les Mythes et Légendes de L'Inde p. 327) connects this story with that of Philemon and Baucis. He lays particular stress upon the following lines of Ovid: Unicus anser erat, minimæ custodia villæ Quem Dîs hospitibus domini mactare parabant: Ille celer penna tardos ætate fatigat, Eluditque diu, tandemquo est visus ad ipsos Confugisse deos. Superi vetuere necari. See also Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, pp. 187, 297 and 414. [109] I. e., Siva. [110] Vrihat Kathá. [111] Compare the story of Orpheus. [112] It is unnecessary to remind the reader of the story of the Sibyl. [113] I. e., Durgá. [114] I believe this refers to Arjuna's combat with the god when he had assumed the form of a Kiráta or mountaineer. Siva is here called Tripurári, the enemy or destroyer of Tripura. Dr. Brockhaus renders it quite differently. [115] Composed of rice, milk, sugar and spices. [116] Certain female divinities who reside in the sky and are the wives of the Gandharvas. Monier Williams, s. v. [117] Brahmá. He emerges from a lotus growing from the navel of Vishnu. [118] In the word sasnehe there is probably a pun; sneha meaning love, and also oil. [119] The charioteer of Indra. [120] For illustrations of this bath of blood see Dunlop's Liebrecht, page 135, and the note at the end of the book. The story of Der arme Heinrich, to which Liebrecht refers, is to be found in the VIth Volume of Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher. Cp. the story of Amys and Amylion, Ellis's Early English Romances, pp. 597 and 598, the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I, p. 367; Prym and Socin's Syrische Märchen, p. 73; Grohmann's Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 268; Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, p. 354, with Dr. Köhler's notes. [121] This is the Roc or Rokh of Arabian romance, agreeing in the multiplicity of individuals as well as their propensity for raw flesh. (See Sindbad's Voyages ed. Langlès, p. 149.) The latter characteristic, to the subversion of all poetical fancies, has acquired, it may be supposed, for the Adjutant (Ardea Argila) the name of Garuda. A wundervogel is the property of all people, and the Garuda of the Hindoos is represented by the Eorosh of the Zend, Simoorgh of the Persians, the Anka of the Arabs, the Kerkes of the Turks, the Kirni of the Japanese, the sacred dragon of the Chinese, the Griffin of Chivalry, the Phoenix of classical fable, the wise and ancient bird that sits upon the ash Yggdrasil of the Edda, and according to Faber with all the rest is a misrepresentation of the holy cherubim that guarded the gate of Paradise. Some writers have even traced the twelve knights of the round table to the twelve Rocs of Persian story. (Wilson's Essays, Vol. I, pp. 192, 193, note.) Gigantic birds that feed on raw flesh are mentioned by the Pseudo-Callisthenes, Book II, ch. 41. Alexander gets on the back of one of them, and is carried into the air, guiding his bird by holding a piece of liver in front of it. He is warned by a winged creature in human shape to proceed no further, and descends again to earth. See also Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 143 and note. See also Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, pp. 5, 6, 7. He compares Pacolet's horse in the story of Valentine and Orson. [122] A wild mountaineer. Dr. Bühler observes that the names of these tribes are used very vaguely in Sanskrit story-books. [123] Sovereign of the snakes. [124] I. e., given by Fortune. [125] Cp. the story of Sattvasíla, which is the seventh tale in the Vetála Panchavinsati, and will be found in Chapter 81 of this work. Cp. also the story of Saktideva in Book V. ch. 26, and Ralston's remarks on it in his Russian Folk-Tales, p. 99. [126] Vishnu assumed the form of a dwarf and appeared before Bali, and asked for as much land as he could step over. On Bali's granting it, Vishnu dilating himself, in two steps deprived him of heaven and earth, but left the lower regions still in his dominion. [127] This incident may be compared with one described in Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 82. [128] Ananta, endless, or infinite, is a name of the thousand-headed serpent Sesha. [129] Reading khadgam for the khadge of Dr. Brockhaus's text. [130] Female demon. The Rákshasas are often called "night-wanderers." [131] Or more literally of the month Chaitra, i. e., March-April. [132] At nine o'clock in the morning. [133] Anas Casarca, commonly called the Brahmany duck. The male has to pass the night separated from its female: if we are to trust the unanimous testimony of Hindu poets. [134] A name of Durgá. Cp. Prescott's account of the human sacrifices in Mexico, Vol. I pp. 62, 63. [135] This incident reminds us of the fifth rule in Wright's Gesta Romanorum. [136] Or it may mean "from a distance," as Dr. Brockhaus takes it. [137] Pulinda, name of a savage tribe. [138] Mr. Growse remarks: "In Hindi the word Nágasthala would assume the form Nágal; and there is a village of that name to this day in the Mahában Pargana of the Mathurá District." [139] A common way of carrying money in India at the present day. [140] Compare the last Scene of the Toy Cart in the 1st volume of Wilson's Hindu Theatre. [141] The esculent white lotus (Sanskrit kumuda) expands its petals at night, and closes them in the daytime. [142] In Sanskrit poetry horripilation is often said to be produced by joy. I have here inserted the words "from joy" in order to make the meaning clear. [143] Literally drunk in. [144] Alluding to his grey hairs. In all eastern stories the appearance of the first grey hair is a momentous epoch. The point of the whole passage consists in the fact that jará, old age, is feminine in form. Cp. the perturbation of King Samson in Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 26, and Spence Hardy's Manual of Buddhism (1860) pp. 129 and 130. [145] There is a pun between the name of the king Udayana and prosperity (udaya). [146] Not Vásuki, but his eldest brother. [147] Chháyá means "colour;" he drank their colour, i. e., made them pale. It also means "reflection in the wine." [148] i. e., given by Buddha. [149] The four Upáyas or means of success are sáman, negotiation, which his pride would render futile, dána, giving, which appeals to avarice, bheda, sowing dissension, which would be useless where a king is beloved by his subjects, and danda, open force, of no use in the case of a powerful king like Udayana. [150] The chief vices of kings denounced by Hindu writers on statecraft are: Hunting, gambling, sleeping in the day, calumny, addiction to women, drinking spirits, dancing, singing, and instrumental music, idle roaming, these proceed from the love of pleasure, others proceed from anger, viz., tale-bearing, violence, insidious injury, envy, detraction, unjust seizure of property, abuse, assault. See Monier Williams s. v. vyasana. [151] Sudhádhauta may mean "white as plaster," but more probably here "whitened with plaster" like the houses in the European quarter of the "City of palaces." [152] A linga of Siva in Ujjayiní. Siva is here compared to an earthly monarch subject to the vyasana of roaming. I take it, the poet means, Ujjayiní is a better place than Kailása. [153] Cp. the way in which Kandar goes in search of a sword in Prym and Socin's Syrische Märchen, p. 205. [154] Dr. Brockhaus translates it--Stürzte den Wagen des Königs um. Can Syandana mean horses, like magni currus Achilli? If so, áhatya would mean, having killed. [155] Rasa means nectar, and indeed any liquid, and also emotion, passion. The pun is of course most intentional in the original. [156] Cp. the story of Ohimé in the "Sicilianische Märchen" collected by Laura von Gonzenbach where Maruzza asks Ohimé how it would be possible to kill him. So in Indian Fairy Tales, collected by Miss Stokes, Hiralál Básá persuades Sonahrí Rání to ask his father where he kept his soul. Some interesting remarks on this subject will be found in the notes to this tale (Indian Fairy Tales, p. 260.) See also No. I, in Campbell's Tales of the Western Highlands, and Dr. Reinhold Köhler's remarks in Orient and Occident, Vol. II, p. 100. Cp. also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, pp. 80, 81 and 136. Cp. also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 72. In the Gehörnte Siegfried (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. III, pp. 368 and 416), the hero is made invulnerable everywhere but between the shoulders, by being smeared with the melted fat of a dragon. Cp. also the story of Achilles. For the transformation of Chandamahásena into a boar see Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. II, pp. 144, 145, and Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 14. See also Schöppner's Geschichte der Bayerischen Lande, Vol. I, p. 258. [157] They would not go near for fear of disturbing it. Wild elephants are timid, so there is more probability in this story, than in that of the Trojan horse. Even now scouts who mark down a wild beast in India, almost lose their heads with excitement. [158] I. e., they sat in Dharna outside the door of the palace. [159] Perhaps we should read samantatah one word. [160] Sattva, when applied to the forest, means animal, when applied to wisdom, it means excellence. [161] Vetála is especially used of a goblin that tenants dead bodies. See Colonel R. Burton's Tales of Vikramáditya and the Vampire. They will be found in the 12th book of this work. In the Vth Chapter of Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales will be found much interesting information with regard to the Slavonic superstitions about Vampires. They resemble very closely those of the Hindus. See especially p. 311. "At cross-roads, or in the neighbourhood of cemeteries, an animated corpse of this description often lurks, watching for some unwary traveller whom it may be able to slay and eat." [162] Cp. the way in which the Ritter Malegis transmutes Reinold in the story of Die Heimonskinder (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. II, p. 86). "He changed him into an old man, a hundred years of age, with a decrepit and misshapen body, and long hair." See also p. 114. So Merlin assumes the form of an old man and disguises Uther and Ulfin, Dunlop's History of Fiction, translated by Liebrecht, p. 66. [163] Such people dance in temples I believe. [164] Mr. Growse writes to me with reference to the name Lohajangha--"This name still exists on the spot, though probably not to be found elsewhere. The original bearer of the title is said to have been one of the demons whom Krishna slew, and a village is called Lohaban after him, where an ancient red sandstone image is supposed to represent him, and has offerings of iron made to it at the annual festival. [165] Ráginí means affectionate and also red. [166] Ataví is generally translated "forest." I believe the English word "forest" does not necessarily imply trees, but it is perhaps better to avoid it here. [167] For the vritam of the text I read kritam. Cp. this incident with Joseph's adventure in the 6th story of the Sicilianische Märchen. He is sewn up in a horse's skin, and carried by ravens to the top of a high mountain. There he stamps and finds a wooden trap-door under his feet. In the notes Dr. Köhler refers to this passage, Campbell No. 44, the Story of Sindbad and other parallels. Cp. also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 124. See also the story of Heinrich der Löwe, Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. I, p. 8. Dr. Köhler refers to the story of Herzog Ernst. The incident will be found in Simrock's version of the story, at page 308 of the IIIrd Volume of his Deutsche Volksbücher. [168] Names of Vishnu, who became incarnate in the hero Krishna. [169] See Chapter 22 sl. 181 and ff. Kasyapa's two wives disputed about the colour of the sun's horses. They agreed that whichever was in the wrong should become a slave to the other. Kadrú, the mother of the snakes, won by getting her children to darken the horses. So Garuda's mother Vinatá became a slave. [170] Divine personages of the size of a thumb; sixty thousand were produced from Brahmá's body and surrounded the chariot of the sun. The legend of Garuda and the Bálakhilyas is found in the Mahábhárata, see De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, p. 95. [171] A yojana is probably 9 miles, some say 2-1/2, some 4 or 5. See Monier Williams s. v. [172] Compare the 5th story in the first book of the Panchatantra, in Benfey's translation. Benfey shows that this story found its way into Mahometan collections, such as the Thousand and one Nights, and the Thousand and one Days, as also into the Decamerone of Boccaccio, and other European story-books, Vol. I, p. 159, and ff. The story, as given in the Panchatantra, reminds us of the Squire's Tale in Chaucer, but Josephus in Ant. Jud. XVIII, 3, tells it of a Roman knight named Mundus, who fell in love with Paulina the wife of Saturninus, and by corrupting the priestess of Isis was enabled to pass himself off as Anubis. On the matter coming to the ears of Tiberius, he had the temple of Isis destroyed, and the priests crucified. (Dunlop's History of Fiction, Vol. II, p. 27. Liebrecht's German translation, p. 232). A similar story is told by the Pseudo-Callisthenes of Nectanebos and Olympias. Cp. Coelho's Contos Populares Portuguezes, No. LXXI, p. 155. [173] Thus she represented the Arddhanárísvara, or Siva half male, and half female, which compound figure is to be painted in this manner. [174] She held on to it by her hands. [175] Wilson remarks that this presents some analogy to the story in the Decamerone (Nov. 7 Gior. 8) of the scholar and the widow "la quale egli poi, con un suo consiglio, di mezzo Luglio, ignuda, tutto un dì fa stare in su una torre." It also bears some resemblance to the story of the Master Thief in Thorpe's Yule-tide Stories, page 272. The Master thief persuades the priest that he will take him to heaven. He thus induces him to get into a sack, and then he throws him into the goose-house, and when the geese peck him, tells him that he is in purgatory. The story is Norwegian. See also Sir G. W. Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, Vol. 1. p. 127. [176] Cp. the way in which Rüdiger carries off the daughter of king Osantrix, Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 227. [177] têrêsantes nykta cheimerion hydati kai anemô kai ham' aselênon exêsan. Thucyd. III. 22. [178] The word dasyu here means savage, barbarian. These wild mountain tribes called indiscriminately Savaras, Pulindas, Bhillas &c., seem to have been addicted to cattle-lifting and brigandage. So the word dasyu comes to mean robber. Even the virtuous Savara prince described in the story of Jímútaváhana plunders a caravan. [179] Cathay? [180] Compare the rose garland in the story of the Wright's Chaste Wife; edited for the early English Text Society by Frederick J. Furnivall, especially lines 58 and ff. "Wete thou wele withowtyn fable "Alle the whyle thy wife is stable "The chaplett wolle holde hewe; "And yf thy wyfe use putry "Or telle eny man to lye her by Then welle yt change hewe, And by the garland thou may see, Fekylle or fals yf that sche be, Or elles yf she be true. See also note in Wilson's Essays on Sanskrit Literature, Vol. I, p. 218. He tells us that in Perce Forest the lily of the Kathá Sarit Ságara is represented by a rose. In Amadis de Gaul it is a garland which blooms on the head of her that is faithful, and fades on the brow of the inconstant. In Les Contes à rire, it is also a flower. In Ariosto, the test applied to both male and female is a cup, the wine of which is spilled by the unfaithful lover. This fiction also occurs in the romances of Tristan, Perceval and La Morte d'Arthur, and is well known by La Fontaine's version, La Coupe Enchantée. In La Lai du Corn, it is a drinking-horn. Spenser has derived his girdle of Florimel from these sources or more immediately from the Fabliau, Le Manteau mal taillé or Le Court Mantel, an English version of which is published in Percy's Reliques, the Boy and the Mantel (Vol. III.) In the Gesta Romanorum (c. 69) the test is the whimsical one of a shirt, which will neither require washing nor mending as long as the wearer is constant. (Not the wearer only but the wearer and his wife). Davenant has substituted an emerald for a flower. The bridal stone, And much renowned, because it chasteness loves, And will, when worn by the neglected wife, Shew when her absent lord disloyal proves By faintness and a pale decay of life. I may remark that there is a certain resemblance in this story to that of Shakespeare's Cymbeline, which is founded on the 9th Story of the 2nd day in the Decamerone, and to the 7th Story in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen. See also "The king of Spain and his queen" in Thorpe's Yule-tide Stories, pp. 452-455. Thorpe remarks that the tale agrees in substance with the ballad of the "Graf Von Rom" in Uhland, II, 784; and with the Flemish story of "Ritter Alexander aus Metz und Seine Frau Florentina." In the 21st of Bandello's novels the test is a mirror (Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 287). See also pp. 85 and 86 of Liebrecht's Dunlop, with the notes at the end of the volume. [181] A man of low caste now called Dom. They officiate as executioners. [182] Compare the way in which the widow's son, the shifty lad, treats Black Rogue in Campbell's Tales of the Western Highlands (Tale XVII d. Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 303.) [183] Datura is still employed, I believe, to stupefy people whom it is thought desirable to rob. [184] I read iva for the eva of Dr. Brockhaus's text. [185] A precisely similar story occurs in the Bahár Dánish. The turn of the chief incident, although not the same, is similar to that of Nov VII, Part 4 of Bandello's Novelle, or the Accorto Avvedimento di una Fantesca à liberare la padrona e l' innamorato di quella de la morte. (Wilson's Essays, Vol. I, p. 224.) Cp. also the Mongolian version of the story in Sagas from the Far East, p. 320. The story of Saktimatí is the 19th in the Suka Saptati. I have been presented by Professor Nílmani Mukhopádhyáya with a copy of a MS. of this work made by Babu Umesa Chandra Gupta. [186] Cp. the story of the Chest in Campbell's Stories from the Western Highlands. It is the first story in the 2nd volume and contains one or two incidents which remind us of this story. [187] I read mahâkulodgatáh. [188] Alluding to Indra's having cut the wings of the mountains. [189] The peafowl are delighted at the approach of the rainy season, when "their sorrow" comes to an end. [190] It is often the duty of these minstrels to wake the king with their songs. [191] Weapons well known in Hindu mythology. See the 6th act of the Uttara Ráma Charita. [192] Sútrapátam akarot she tested, so to speak. Cp. Taranga 21, sl. 93. The fact is, the smoke made her eyes as red as if she had been drinking. [193] Or "like Kuvera." There is a pun here. [194] Young Deformed. [195] Cp. the distribution of presents on the occasion of King Etzel's marriage in the Nibelungen Lied. [196] It must be remembered that a king among the Hindus was inaugurated with water, not oil. [197] The word "adders" must here do duty for all venomous kinds of serpents. [198] A similar story is found in the IVth book of the Panchatantra, Fable 5, where Benfey compares the story of Yayáti and his son Puru. Benfey Panchatantra I. 436. Bernhard Schmidt in his Griechische Märchen, page 37, mentions a very similar story, which he connects with that of Admetos and Alkestis. In a popular ballad of Trebisond, a young man named Jannis, the only son of his parents, is about to be married, when Charon comes to fetch him. He supplicates St. George, who obtains for him the concession, that his life may be spared, in case his father will give him half the period of life still remaining to him. His father refuses, and in the same way his mother. At last his betrothed gives him half her allotted period of life, and the marriage takes place. The story of Ruru is found in the Ádiparva of the Mahábhárata, see Lévêque, Mythes et Légendes de l'Inde, pp. 278, and 374. [199] I read dhátá for dhátrá. [200] i. e. Hastinápura. [201] Here Wilson observes: The circumstances here related are not without analogies in fact. It is not marvellous therefore that we may trace them in fiction. The point of the story is the same as that of the "Deux Anglais à Paris," a Fabliau, and of "Une femme à l'extremité qui se mit en si grosse colère voyant son mari qui baisait sa servante qu'elle recouvra la santé" of Margaret of Navarre, (Heptameron. Nouvelle 71). Cp. Henderson's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties, p. 131. Webster, Duchess of Malfi, Act IV, Sc. 2, tells a similar story, "A great physician, when the Pope was sick Of a deep melancholy, presented him With several sorts of madmen, which wild object, Being full of change and sport, freed him to laugh, And so the imposthume broke." [202] Cp. Sagas from the far East, Tale XI, pp. 123, 124. Here the crime contemplated is murder, and the ape is represented by a tiger. This story bears a certain resemblance to the termination of Alles aus einer Erbse, Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 22. See also page 220 of the same collection. In the Pentamerone of Basile, Tale 22, a princess is set afloat in a box, and found by a king, whose wife she eventually becomes. There is a similar incident in Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 220. [203] Literally a handful of water, such as is offered to the Manes, is offered to Fortune. It is all over with his chance of attaining glory. [204] Cp. Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 220. Liebrecht, in note 485 to page 413 of his translation of Dunlop's History of Fiction, compares this story with one in The Thousand and One Days of a princess of Kashmír, who was so beautiful that every one who saw her went mad, or pined away. He also mentions an Arabian tradition with respect to the Thracian sorceress Rhodope. "The Arabs believe that one of the pyramids is haunted by a guardian spirit in the shape of a beautiful woman, the mere sight of whom drives men mad." He refers also to Thomas Moore, the Epicurean, Note 6 to Chapter VI, and the Adventures of Hatim Tai, translated by Duncan Forbes, p. 18. [205] In the original it is intended to compare the locks to the spots in the moon. [206] Reading yad hi. [207] The moon was the progenitor of the Pándava race. [208] One of the five trees of Paradise. [209] Káma the Hindu Cupid. [210] There is a certain resemblance in the story of Sunda and Upasunda to that of Otus and Ephialtes; see Preller's Griechische Mythologie, Vol. I p. 81. Cp. also Grohmann's Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 35. [211] The architect or artist of the gods. [212] This is literally true. The king was addicted to the vyasana or vice of hunting. [213] I read hastagraháyogyám for the áhastagraháyogyám of Dr. Brockhaus. [214] The flower closes when the sun sets. [215] To keep up his character as a Bráhman boy. [216] I read dáhaishiná. [217] This applies also to the god of love who bewilders the mind. [218] Kara means hand, and also tribute. [219] I read iva for eva. [220] Reading taddvárasthitamahattaram as one word. [221] For parallels to the story of Urvasí, see Kuhn's Herabkunft des Feuer's, p. 88. [222] This, with the water weapon, and that of whirlwind, is mentioned in the Rámáyana and the Uttara Ráma Charita. [223] Or Devarshi, belonging to the highest class of Rishis or patriarchal saints. [224] This dance is mentioned in the 1st Act of the Málavikágnimitra. [225] Literally broke. The vyádhi or disease must have been of the nature of an abscess. [226] Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur. (Publius Syrus.) [227] Liebrecht in an essay on some modern Greek songs (Zur Volkskunde, p. 211) gives numerous stories of children who spoke shortly after birth. It appears to have been generally considered an evil omen. Cp. the Romance of Merlin. (Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 146.) See Baring Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages (New Edition, 1869) p. 170. In a startling announcement of the birth of Antichrist which appeared in 1623, purporting to come from the brothers of the Order of St. John, the following passage occurs,--"The child is dusky, has pleasant mouth and eyes, teeth pointed like those of a cat, ears large, stature by no means exceeding that of other children; the said child, incontinent on his birth, walked and talked perfectly well." [228] More literally; blockaded his house with policemen, and his throat with tears. [229] So in the XXIst of Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales the fakir changes the king's son into a fly. Cp. also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 127. [230] Ficus Indica. Such a tree is said to have sheltered an army. Its branches take root and form a natural cloister. Cp. Milton's Paradise Lost, Book IX, lines 1000 and ff. [231] Grimm in his Teutonic Mythology (translation by Stallybrass, p. 121, note,) connects the description of wonderful maidens sitting inside hollow trees or perched on the boughs, with tree-worship. See also Grohmann's Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 41. [232] For the illuminating power of female beauty, see Note 3 to the 1st Tale in Miss Stokes's Collection, where parallels are cited from the folk-lore of Europe and Asia. [233] Kámadhenu means a cow granting all desires; such a cow is said to have belonged to the sage Vasishta. [234] Conciliation, bribery, sowing dissension, and war. [235] The Prákrit word majjáo means "a cat" and also "my lover." [236] Cp. Schiller's "Der Graf von Habsburg," lines 9-12. [237] The word pati here means king and husband. [238] A smile is always white according to the Hindu poetic canons. [239] The countenance of the fair ones were like moons. [240] There should be a mark of elision before nimishekshanáh. [241] The eyes of Hindu ladies are said to reach to their ears. I read tadákhyátum for tadákhyátim with a MS. in the Sanskrit college, kindly lent me by the Librarian with the consent of the Principal. [242] Love and affection, the wives of Kámadeva the Hindu Cupid. [243] So the mouse in the Panchatantra possesses power by means of a treasure (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 320. Vol. II, p. 178.) The story is found also in the 61st Chapter of this work. Cp. also Sagas from the Far East, pp. 257 and 263. The same idea is found in the 39th Játaka, p. 322 of Rhys Davids' translation, and in the 257th Játaka, Vol. II, p. 297 of Fausböll's edition. [244] Cp. Sagas from the Far East, p. 263. [245] I read darsayat. [246] Sati is a misprint for mati, Böhtlingk and Roth sv. [247] i. e. the Ganges. [248] In Sanskrit pratápa the word translated "valour," also means heat, and chakra may refer to the wheels of the chariot and the orb of the sun, so that there is a pun all through. [249] More literally, a torrent of pride and kicking. [250] Grimm in his Teutonic Mythology (translation by Stallybrass, p. 392) remarks--"One principal mark to know heroes by is their possessing intelligent horses, and conversing with them. The touching conversation of Achilles with his Xanthos and Balios finds a complete parallel in the beautiful Karling legend of Bayard. (This is most pathetically told in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. II, Die Heimonskinder, see especially page 54). Grimm proceeds to cite many other instances from European literature. See also Note 3 to the XXth story in Miss Stokes's collection. See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, p. 336 and ff. See the remarks in Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 237. [251] The keeper of a burning or burial-ground would be impure. [252] Probably the people sprinkled one another with red powder as at the Holi festival. [253] So in Grimm's Märchen von einem der auszog das Fürchten zu lernen the youth is recommended to sit under the gallows where seven men have been executed. Cp. also the story of "The Shroud" in Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 307. The belief that the dead rose from the tomb in the form of Vampires appears to have existed in Chaldæa and Babylon. Lenormant observes in his Chaldæan Magic and Sorcery, (English Translation, p. 37) "In a fragment of the Mythological epopée which is traced upon a tablet in the British Museum, and relates the descent of Ishtar into Hades, we are told that the goddess, when she arrived at the doors of the infernal regions, called to the porter whose duty it was to open them, saying, "Porter, open thy door; Open thy door that I may enter. If thou dost not open the door, and if I cannot enter, I will attack the door, I will break down its bars, I will attack the enclosure, I will leap over its fences by force; I will cause the dead to rise and devour the living; I will give to the dead power over the living." The same belief appears also to have existed in Egypt. The same author observes (p. 92). "These formulæ also kept the body from becoming, during its separation from the soul, the prey of some wicked spirit which would enter, re-animate, and cause it to rise again in the form of a vampire. For, according to the Egyptian belief, the possessing spirits, and the spectres which frightened or tormented the living were but the souls of the condemned returning to the earth, before undergoing the annihilation of the 'second death.'" [254] Cp. Ralston's account of the Vampire as represented in the Skazkas. "It is as a vitalized corpse that the visitor from the other world comes to trouble mankind, often subject to human appetites, constantly endowed with more than human strength and malignity."--Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 306. [255] Cp. the way in which the witch treats the corpse of her son in the VIth book of the Æthiopica of Heliodorus, ch. 14, and Lucan's Pharsalia, Book VI, 754-757. [256] I. e., the corpse tenanted by the Vetála or demon. [257] Cp. Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. III, p. 399. [258] Lakshmí or Srí the goddess of Prosperity appeared after the churning of the ocean with a lotus in her hand. According to another story she is said to have appeared at the creation floating on the expanded leaves of a lotus-flower. The hand of a lady is often compared to a lotus. [259] I. e., rising; the eastern mountain behind which the sun is supposed to rise. [260] I. e., semi-divine beings supposed to be of great purity and holiness. [261] General Cunningham identifies Paundravardhana with the modern Pubna. [262] There is a curious parallel to this story in Táránátha's History of Buddhism, translated into German by Schiefner, p. 203. Here a Rákshasí assumes the form of a former king's wife, and kills all the subjects, one after another, as fast as they are elected to the royal dignity. [263] Compare the Apocryphal book of Tobit. See also the 30th page of Lenormant's Chaldæan Magic and Sorcery, English translation. [264] Ralston in his Russian Folk-Tales, p. 270, compares this incident with one in a Polish story, and in the Russian story of the Witch Girl. In both the arm of the destroyer is cut off. [265] I read iva; the arm was the long bar, and the whole passage is an instance of the rhetorical figure called utprekshá. [266] Cp. the freeing of Argo by Hercules cutting off Pallair's arm in the Togail Troi, ed. Stokes, p. 67. [267] There is probably a pun here. Rámártham may mean "for the sake of a fair one." [268] I read na tad for tatra with a MS. in the Sanskrit College. [269] Here there is a pun on Ananga, a name of the Hindu Cupid. [270] Here there is a pun. The word guna also means rope. [271] For stories of transportation through the air, see Wirt Sikes, British Goblins, p. 157 and ff. [272] Cp. the way in which Torello informs his wife of his presence in Boccacio's Decameron Xth day Nov. IX. The novels of the Xth day must be derived from Indian, and probably Buddhistic sources. There is a Buddhistic vein in all of them. A striking parallel to the 5th Novel of the Xth day will be found further on in this work. Cp. also, for the incident of the ring, Thorpe's Yuletide Stories, p. 167. See also the story of Heinrich der Löwe, Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. I, pp. 21 and 22. Cp. also Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, pp. 365 and 432, Coelho's Contos Populares Portuguezes, p. 76; and Prym und Socin's Syrische Märchen, p. 72. See also Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction pp. xlix and 1. [273] An oblation to gods, or venerable men of, rice, dúrva grass, flowers, &c., with water, or of water only in a small boat-shaped vessel. [274] Sneha means oil, and also affection. [275] Sattva when applied to the ocean probably means "monsters." So the whole compound would mean "in which was conspicuous the fury of gambling monsters." The pun defies translation. [276] I read aushadeh. The Rákshasa is compared to the mountain, Vidúshaka to the moon, his wives to the gleaming herbs. [277] Thorpe in his Yule-tide Stories remarks that the story of Vidúshaka somewhat resembles in its ground-plot the tale of the Beautiful Palace East of the Sun and North of the Earth. With the latter he also compares the story of Saktivega in the 5th book of the Kathá Sarit Ságara. (See the table of contents of Thorpe's Yule-tide Stories, p. xi.) Cp. also Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. II, p. 1, and for the cutting off of the giant's arm, p. 50. [278] Perhaps we should read svádvaushadha = sweet medicine. [279] I. q., Bheels. [280] I read árúdhah. [281] A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads sambhavah for the sampadah of Dr. Brockhaus's text. [282] Lustratio exercitus; waving lights formed part of the ceremony. [283] It also means "drawing cords." [284] He is sometimes represented as bearing the entire world on one of his heads. [285] One of these poison-damsels is represented as having been employed against Chandragupta in the Mudrá Rákshasa. Compare the XIth tale in the Gesta Romanorum, where an Indian queen sends one to Alexander the Great. Aristotle frustrates the stratagem. [286] Jayastambha. Wilson remarks that the erection of these columns is often alluded to by Hindu writers, and explains the character of the solitary columns which are sometimes met with, as the Lát at Delhi, the pillars at Allahábád, Buddal, &c. [287] Kalinga is usually described as extending from Orissa to Drávida or below Madras, the coast of the Northern Circars. It appears, however, to be sometimes the Delta of the Ganges. It was known to the ancients as Regio Calingarum, and is familiar to the natives of the Eastern Archipelago by the name of Kling. Wilson. [288] The clouds are nihsára void of substance, as being no longer heavy with rain. The thunder ceases in the autumn. [289] Chola was the sovereignty of the western part of the Peninsula on the Carnatic, extending southwards to Tanjore where it was bounded by the Pándyan kingdom. It appears to have been the Regio Soretanum of Ptolemy and the Chola mandala or district furnishes the modern appellation of the Coromandel Coast.--Wilson, Essays, p. 241 note. [290] Murala is another name for Kerala, now Malabar (Hall.) Wilson identifies it with the Curula of Ptolemy. [291] Or perhaps more literally "creeper-like sword." Probably the expression means "flexible, well-tempered sword," as Professor Nílmani Mukhopádhyáya has suggested to me. [292] It had been employed for this purpose by the gods and Asuras. Láta = the Larice of Ptolemy. (Wilson.) [293] Turks, the Indo-scythæ of the ancients. (Wilson.) [294] Persians. [295] A Daitya or demon. His head swallows the sun and moon. [296] Perhaps the Huns. [297] The western portion of Assam. (Wilson.) [298] For the worship of trees and tree-spirits, see Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, p. 75 and ff., and Tylor's Primitive Culture, Vol. II, p. 196 and ff. [299] I here read durdasáh for the durdarsáh of Dr. Brockhaus' text. It must be a misprint. A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads durdasáh. [300] The Guhyakas are demi-gods, attendants upon Kuvera and guardians of his wealth. [301] Literally--having the cardinal points as her only garment. [302] For the circle cp. Henry VI. Part II, Act I, Sc. IV, line 25 and Henry V. Act V, Sc. 2, line 420. "If you would conjure, you must make a circle." See also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 272. Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, pp. 292, 302, 303. See also Wirt Sikes, British Goblins, pp. 200, and 201; Henderson's Northern Folk-lore, p. 19, Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, pp. 128, 213. Professor Jebb, in his notes on Theophrastus' Superstitious man, observes "The object of all those ceremonies, in which the offerings were carried round the person or place to be purified, was to trace a charmed circle within which the powers of evil should not come." Cp. also Grössler's Sagen aus der Grafschaft Mansfeld, p. 217, Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. III, p. 56; Grohmann's Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 226. [303] i. e. by the fire of Siva's eye. [304] Perhaps we ought to read sadehasya. I find this rending in a MS. lent to me by the librarian of the Sanskrit College with the kind permission of the Principal. [305] i. e. Siva. [306] In this wild legend, resembling one in the first book of the Rámáyana, I have omitted some details for reasons which will be obvious to those who read it in the original. [307] i. e. the six Pleiades. [308] Mr. Tylor (in his Primitive Culture, Vol. II, p. 176) speaking of Slavonian superstitions, says, "A man whose eyebrows meet as if his soul were taking flight to enter some other body, may be marked by this sign either as a were-wolf or a vampire." In Icelandic Sagas a man with meeting eyebrows is said to be a werewolf. The same idea holds in Denmark, also in Germany, whilst in Greece it is a sign that a man is a Brukolak or Vampire. (Note by Baring-Gould in Henderson's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties). The same idea is found in Bohemia, see Grohmann's Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 210. Cp. Grimm's Irische Märchen, p. cviii. [309] I read ásta for ásu. [310] rajas in Sanskrit means dust and also passion. [311] i. e. immunity from future births. [312] i. e. desire, wrath, covetousness, bewilderment, pride and envy. [313] Cp. the Æthiopica of Heliodorus, Book VII, ch. 15, where the witch is armed with a sword during her incantations; and Homer's Odyssey, XI, 48. See also for the magic virtues of steel Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, pp. 312, 313. [314] See Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 289, where a young man overhears a spell with similar results. See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 115. [315] I read tan tad. [316] Called more usually by English people Allahabad. [317] This incident reminds one of Schiller's ballad--Der Gang nach dem Eisenhammer. (Benfey Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 320.) The story of Fridolin in Schiller's ballad is identical with the story of Fulgentius which is found in the English Gesta Romanorum, see Bohn's Gesta Romanorum, Introduction, page 1. Douce says that the story is found in Scott's Tales from the Arabic and Persian, p. 53 and in the Contes devots or Miracles of the Virgin. (Le Grand, Fabliaux, v. 74.) Mr. Collier states upon the authority of M. Boettiger that Schiller founded his ballad upon an Alsatian tradition which he heard at Mannheim. Cp. also the 80th of the Sicilianische Märchen which ends with these words, "Wer gutes thut, wird gutes erhalten." There is a certain resemblance in this story to that of Equitan in Murie's lays. See Ellis's Early English Metrical Romances, pp. 46 and 47. It also resembles the story of Lalitánga extracted from the Kathá Kosha by Professor Nilmani Mukerjea in his Sáhitya Parichaya, Part II, and the conclusion of the story of Damannaka from the same source found in his Part I. The story of Fridolin is also found in Schöppner's Sagenbuch der Bayerischen Lande, Vol. I, p. 204. [318] Literally creeper-like. [319] There is a double meaning here; kshetra means fit recipients as well as field. The king no doubt distributed corn. [320] i. e. the god Ganesa, who has an elephant's head. [321] Seven principal mountains are supposed to exist in each Varsha or division of a continent. [322] There is a reference here to the mada or ichor which exudes from an elephant's temples when in rut. [323] rága also means passion. [324] The quarters are often conceived of as women. [325] In the XVIIIth tale of the Gesta Romanorum Julian is led into trouble by pursuing a deer. The animal turns round and says to him, "Thou who pursuest me so fiercely shalt be the destruction of thy parents." See also Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 38. "A popular ballad referring to the story of Digenis gives him a life of 300 years, and represents his death as due to his killing a hind that had on its shoulder the image of the Virgin Mary, a legend the foundation of which is possibly a recollection of the old mythological story of the hind of Artemis killed by Agamemnon." [Sophoclis Electra, 568.] In the Romance of Doolin of Mayence Guyon kills a hermit by mistake for a deer. (Liebrecht's translation of Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 138) See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, pp. 84-86. [326] I. g. Umá and Párvatí. Káma = the god of love. [327] Cp. Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. I, p. 96; also an incident in Gül and Sanaubar, (Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 144). [328] Here there is a pun, suvritta meaning also well-rounded. [329] i. e. burnt herself with his body. [330] Purogaih means "done in a previous life," and also "going before." [331] Cp. Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 364; Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. I, pp. 285 and 294. [332] I read with a MS. in the Sanskrit College patisnehád for pratisnehád. The two wives of the god of Love came out of lovo to their husband, who was conceived in Vásavadattá. [333] Vidyádhara--means literally "magical-knowledge-holder." [334] The ceremony of coronation. [335] Ambiká, i. q., Párvatí the wife of Siva. [336] Liebrecht, speaking of the novel of Guerino Meschino, compares this tree with the sun and moon-trees mentioned in the work of the Pseudo-Callisthenes, Book III. c. 17. They inform Alexander that the years of his life are accomplished, and that he will die in Babylon. See also Ralston's Songs of the Russian people, p. 111. [337] A period of 432 million years of mortals. [338] More literally the cardinal and intermediate points. [339] Reading manomrigi, the deer of the mind. [340] Member of a savage tribe. [341] I. e. of the pearls in the heads of the elephants. [342] I. e. the sun. [343] Throbbing of the right eye in men portends union with the beloved. [344] No doubt by offering the flowers which she had gathered. [345] Like the two physicians in Gesta Romanorum, LXXVI. [346] A peculiarly sacred kind of Darbha grass. [347] M. Lévêque considers that the above story, as told in the Mahábhárata, forms the basis of the Birds of Aristophanes. He identifies Garuda with the hoopoe. (Les Mythes et Légendes de l'Inde et de la Perse, p. 14). [348] Rájila is a striped snake, said to be the same as the dundubha a non-venomous species. [349] The remarks which Ralston makes (Russian Folk-tales, page 65) with regard to the snake as represented in Russian stories, are applicable to the Nága of Hindu superstition; "Sometimes he retains throughout the story an exclusively reptilian character, sometimes he is of a mixed nature, partly serpent and partly man." The snakes described in Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, (pp. 402-409,) resemble in some points the snakes which we hear so much of in the present work. See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 277 and ff. [350] The word nága, which means snake, may also mean, as Dr. Brockhaus explains it, a mountaineer from naga a mountain. [351] I conjecture kramád for krandat. If we retain krandat we must suppose that the king of the Vidyádharas wept because his scheme of self-sacrifice was frustrated. [352] I read adhah for adah. [353] In the Sicilian stories of the Signora von Gonzenbach an ointment does duty for the amrita, cp. for one instance out of many, page 145 of that work. Ralston remarks that in European stories the raven is connected with the Water of Life. See his exhaustive account of this cycle of stories on pages 231 and 232 of his Russian Folk-tales. See also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 245, and the story which begins on page 227. In the 33rd of the Syrian stories collected by Prym and Socin we have a king of snakes and water of life. [354] The home of the serpent race below the earth. [355] Here equivalent to Pátála. [356] Here there is a pun: ákula may also mean "by descent." [357] Kulíná may mean falling on the earth, referring to the shade of the tree. Márgasthá means "in the right path" when applied to the wife. [358] I. e. Madam Contentious. Her husband's name means "of lion-like might." [359] I read (after Böhtlingk and Roth) Ityakápara. See Chapter 34. sl. 115. [360] Tejas = also means might, courage. For the idea see note on page 305. [361] Sneha which means love, also means oil. This is a fruitful source of puns in Sanskrit. [362] The Hindu Cupid. [363] Infinitely longer than a mortal kalpa. A mortal kalpa lasts 432 million years. [364] He is often called Ananga, the bodiless, as his body was consumed by the fire of Siva's eye. [365] Or virtuous and generous. [366] It is still the custom to give presents of vessels filled with rice and coins. Empty vessels are inauspicious, and even now if a Bengali on going out of his house meets a person carrying an empty pitcher, he turns back, and waits a minute or two. [367] A: Peace, war, march, halt, stratagem and recourse to the protection of a mightier king. [368] The elephant-headed god has his trunk painted with red lead like a tame elephant, and is also liable to become mast. [369] Followers and attendants upon Siva. [370] The modern Burdwan. [371] I. e. Gold-gleam. [372] For an account of the wanderjahre of young Bráhman students, see Dr. Bühler's introduction to the Vikramánkadevacharita. [373] More literally--Those whose eyes do not wink. The epithet also means "worthy of being regarded with unwinking eyes." No doubt this ambiguity is intended. [374] I. e. the city of jewels. [375] Áskandin is translated "granting" by Monier Williams and the Petersburg lexicographers. [376] These are worn on the fingers when offerings are made. [377] A particular posture in religious meditation, sitting with the thighs crossed, with one hand resting on the left thigh, the other held up with the thumb upon the heart, and the eyes directed to the tip of the nose. [378] Kárpatika may mean a pilgrim, but it seems to be used in the K. S. S. to mean a kind of dependant on a king or great man, usually a foreigner. See chapters 38, 53, and 81 of this work. [379] First he should be a Brahmachárin or unmarried religious student, next a Grihastha or householder, than a Vánaprastha or anchoret, lastly a Bhikshu or beggar. [380] i. e. virtue, wealth, pleasure; dharma, artha, káma. [381] Graha, also means planet, i. e. inauspicious planet. Siva tells the truth here. [382] i. e. the auspicious or friendly one. [383] There is probably a double meaning in the word "incomprehensible." [384] Perhaps we ought to read dattvá for tatra. [385] A report similar to that spread against Harasvámin was in circulation during the French Revolution. Taine in his history of the Revolution, Vol. I, p. 418 tells the following anecdote: "M. de Montlosier found himself the object of many unpleasant attentions when he went to the National Assembly. In particular a woman of about thirty used to sharpen a large knife when he passed and look at him in a threatening manner. On enquiry he discovered the cause--Deux enfants du quartier ont disparu enlevés par de bohémiens, et c'est maintenant un bruit répandu que M. de Montlosier, le marquis de Mirabeau, et d'autres députés du côté droit se rassemblent pour faire des orgies dans lesquelles ils mangent de petits enfants." [386] The city of flowers, i. g. Pátaliputra. [387] Perhaps we ought to read yayau for dadau. This I find is the reading of an excellent MS. in the Sanskrit college, for the loan of which I am deeply indebted to the Principal and the Librarian. [388] Probably a poor pun. [389] Cf. Uttara Ráma Charita (Vidyáságara's edition) Act III, p. 82, the speech of the river-goddess Tamasá. Lenormant in his Chaldæan Magic and Sorcery, p. 41, (English Translation), observes: "We must add to the number of those mysterious rites the use of certain enchanted drinks, which doubtless really contained medicinal drugs, as a cure for diseases, and also of magic knots, the efficacy of which was firmly believed in, even up to the middle ages." See also Ralston's Songs of the Russian people, p. 288. [390] In the story of the Beautiful Palace East of the Sun and North of the Earth, (Thorpe, Yule-tide Stories, p. 158) an old woman sends the youth, who is in quest of the palace, to her old sister, who again refers him to an older sister dwelling in a small ruinous cottage on a mountain. In Signora von Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, p. 86, the prince is sent by one "Einsiedler" to his brother, and this brother sends him to an older brother and he again to an older still, who is described as "Steinalt" see also p. 162. Compare also the story of Hasan of El Basra in Lane's Arabian Nights. Cp. also Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 56. We have a similar incident in Melusine, p. 447, The story is entitled La Montagne Noire on Les Filles du Diable. See also the Pentamerone of Basile, Tale 49, Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 76; Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, pp. 37 and 255 and ff; and Dasent's Norse Tales, pp. 31-32, 212-213, and 330-331. [391] Wild aboriginal tribes not belonging to the Aryan race. [392] Destiny often elevates the worthless, and hurls down men of worth. [393] The usual story is that Indra cut off the wings of all except Maináka the son of Himavat by Mená. He took refuge in the sea. Here it is represented that more escaped. So in Bhartrihari Níti Sataka st. 76 (Bombay edition). [394] For Saktideva's imprisonment in the belly of the fish cp. Chapter 74 of this work, Indian Fairy Tales by Miss Stokes, No. XIV, and Lucian's Vera Historia, Book I. In this tale the fish swallows a ship. The crew discover countries in the monster's inside, establish a "scientific frontier," and pursue a policy of Annexation. See also Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. III, p. 104. [395] Cf. Grimm's Märchen, No. 60, Sicilianische Märchen, Nos. 39 and 40, with Dr. Köhler's notes. [396] If such a word can be applied to a place where bodies are burnt. [397] Samásvasya, the reading of a MS. in the Sanskrit College, would perhaps give a better sense. [398] I. e. skull-cleaver. [399] Perhaps we ought to read smritvá for srutvá, "Remembering, calling to mind." [400] So in Signora von Gonzenbach's Sicilian Stories, p. 66, a lovely woman opens with a knife the veins of the sleeping prince and drinks his blood. See also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 354. Ralston in his Russian Folk-Tales, p. 17, compares this part of the story with a Russian story and that of Sidi Noman in the "Thousand and One Nights," he refers also to Lane's Translation, Vol. I, p. 32. [401] One is tempted to read vikritám for vikritim, but vikriti is translated by the Petersburg lexicographers as Gespensterscheinung. Vikritám would mean transformed into a Rákshasí. [402] Skandha when applied to the Rákshasas means shoulder. [403] Literally great flesh. "Great" seems to give the idea of unlawfulness, as in the Greek mega ergon. [404] Cp. the golden rose in Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 44. [405] Reading tasyán for tasmán. [406] Somadeva no doubt means that the hairs on the king's body stood on end with joy. [407] According to the canons of Hindu rhetoric glory is always white. [408] Night is compared to a female goblin, (Rákshasí). Those creatures have fiery mouths. [409] Cp. Sicilianische Märchen collected by Laura von Gonzenbach, Vol. I, p. 160. [410] Magical sciences, in virtue of which they were Vidyádharas or science-holders. [411] A son or pupil of Visvámitra. [412] I.e. the Ocean. [413] Compare the erineos megas phylloisi tethêlôs in the Odyssey, Book XII., 103. [414] The metre of this line is incorrect. There is a superfluous syllable. Perhaps we ought to read ambuvegatah, by the current. [415] I think we ought to read adhah, downwards. [416] Cp. Odyssey XII., 432 autar egô poti makron erineon hypsos' aertheis tô prosphys echomên hôs nykteris. See also Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. III, p. 7. [417] all' ara hê ge kat' andrôn kraata bainei. Iliad XIX, v. 93. [418] Pakshapáta also means flapping of wings. So there is probably a pun here. [419] So in the Swedish tale "The Beautiful Palace East of the Sun and North of the Earth," the Phoenix carries the youth on his back to the Palace. Dr. Rost compares Arabian Nights, Night 77. See Lane, Vol. III, p. 17 and compare the Halcyon in Lucian's Vera Historia, Book II. 40, (Tauchnitz edition,) whose nest is seven miles in circumference, and whose egg is probably the prototype of that in the Arabian Nights. Cp. the Glücksvogel in Prym and Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 269, and the eagle which carries Chaucer in the House of Fame. In the story of Lalitánga, extracted by Professor Nilmani Mukerjea from the Kathá Kosha, a collection of Jaina stories, a Bhárunda carries the hero to the city of Champá. There he cures the princess by a remedy, the knowledge of which he had acquired by overhearing a conversation among the birds. [420] We should read sauvarnabhitti. [421] Or Chandraprabhá, whose name means "light of the moon." The forbidden chamber will at once remind the reader of Perrault's La Barbe Bleue. The lake incident is exactly similar to one in Chapter 81 of this work and to that of Kandarpaketu in the Hitopadesa. See Ralston's Russian Folk-tales page 99. He refers to this story and compares it with that of the Third Royal Mendicant, Lane I, 160-173, and gives many European equivalents. See also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 214. Many parallels will be found in the notes to Grimm's Märchen, Nos. 3 and 46; to which Ralston refers in his exhaustive note. In Wirt Sikes's British Goblins, p. 84, a draught from a forbidden well has the same effect. [422] The Dánavas are a class of demons or giants. Ruru was a Dánava slain by Durgá. [423] In Sloka 172 b. I conjecture Saktihasto for Saktidevo, as we read in sl. 181 b. that the boar was wounded with a sakti. [424] Literally, having auspicious marks. [425] A spirit that enters dead bodies. [426] I read Vidyutprabhám for Vidyádharím. But perhaps it is unnecessary. [427] The Chakora is said to subsist upon moonbeams. [428] So making him a Vidyádhara or "magic-knowledge-holder." [429] I. e. Ganesa who is invoked to remove obstacles. [430] This is an elaborate pun in the original. Guna=string and virtue; vansa=race and bamboo. [431] The Taxila of the Greek writers. The Vitastá is the Hydaspes of the Greeks, now called Jhelum. [432] Monier Williams says that Tárá was the wife of the Buddha Amoghasiddha. Benfey (Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 373) says she was a well known Buddhist saint. The passage might perhaps mean "The Buddha adorned with most brilliant stars." It has been suggested to me that Tárávara may mean Siva, and that the passage means that the Saiva and Bauddha religions were both professed in the city of Takshasilá. [433] I. e. Buddhist ascetics. [434] A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads sukála for svakála: the meaning is much the same. [435] A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads nigrahah=blaming one's relations without cause. [436] Cp. Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 122. See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 90. [437] Moksha is the soul's final release from further transmigrations. [438] Cp. Gesta Romanorum CXLIII (Bohn's Edition). This idea is found in the Telapattajátaka, Fausböll, Vol. I, p. 393. [439] A kind of Pandora. [440] Compare the argument in the Eunuchus of Terence (III. 5.36 & ff) which shocked St. Augustine so much (Confessions I. 16). [441] Et tonantem Jovem et adulterantem. [442] I separate balavad from bhogadáyi. [443] This appears to be found in a slightly different form in the Harivansa. (Lévêque, Mythes et Légendes de l'Inde, p. 220). [444] The name of certain aboriginal tribes described as hunters, fishermen, robbers &c. [445] In the original Mahákála, an epithet of Siva in his character as the destroying deity. [446] Generally only one mountain named Maináka is said to have fled into the sea, and retained its wings when Indra clipped those of the others. The passage is of course an elaborate pun. [447] i. e. lion of valour. [448] i. e. animals, horizontal goers. The pun defies translation, the word I have translated arrow is literally "the not-sideways-goer." [449] i. e. by burning herself upon the funeral pyre. [450] The word táraká means also a star. So here we have one of those puns in which our author delights. [451] Also full of affection. This is a common pun. [452] Beasts of prey, or possibly Rákshasas. [453] Compare the translation of the life of St. Brigit by Whitley Stokes, (Three Middle Irish Homilies, p. 65.) "Shortly after that came a certain nobleman unto Dubthach to ask for his daughter in marriage. Dubthach and his sons were willing, but Brigit refused. Said a brother of her brethren named Beccán unto her: 'Idle is the fair eye that is in thy head not to be on a pillow near a husband.' 'The son of the Virgin knoweth' said Brigit, 'it is not lively for us if it brings harm upon us.' Then Brigit put her finger under her eye and drew it out of her head till it was on her cheek; and she said: 'Lo, here is thy delightful eye, O Beccán.' Then his eye burst forthwith. When Dubthach and his brethren saw that, they promised that she should never be told to go to a husband. Then she put her palm to her eye and it was whole at once. But Beccán's eye was not whole till his death." That the biographers of Christian saints were largely indebted to Buddhist hagiology, has been shewn by Liebrecht in his Essay on the sources of Barlaam and Josaphat, (Zur Volkskunde, p. 441.) In Mr. Stokes's book, p. 34, will also be found a reference to the practice of shewing reverence by walking round persons or things keeping the right hand towards them. This is pointed out by Mr. Stokes in his Preface as an interesting link between Ireland and India. Mr. Whitley Stokes has sent me the following quotation in the Revue Celtique V, 130 from P. Cahier, Caracteristiques des Saints I, 105; "A certain virgin Lucia (doubtful whether of Bologna or of Alexandria) se voyant fréquemment suivie par un jeune homme qui affectait de l'accompagner partout dès q'elle quittait sa maison, lui demanda enfin ce qui l'attachait si fort à ses pas. Celui-ci ayant répondu que c' etait la beauté de ses yeux, la jeune fille se servit de son fuseau pour faire sortir ses yeux de leur orbite, et dit à son poursuivant qu'il pouvait les prendre et la laisser dèsormais en repos. On ajoute que cette generosité effrayante changea si fort le coeur du jeune homme qu'il embrassa la profession religieuse. The story of the ascetic who conquered anger, resembles closely the Khantivádijátaka No. 313 in Fausböll's edition, Vol. III, p. 39. It is also found in the Bodhisattva Avadána, under the title Kshánti Játaka, and in the Mahávastu Avadána in a form closely resembling that of the Páli Játaka book. See Dr. Rajendra Lál Mitra's Nepalese Buddhist Literature, pp. 55, 159, and 160. [454] They are compared to the five sacred fires. [455] Literally the worthless straw-heap of &c. [456] Here there is a pun on the two meanings of Srí. [457] In the Svayamvara the maiden threw a garland over the neck of the favoured suitor. [458] Rasa also means water. [459] This story is compared by Benfey (Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 374) with the story of the faithful servant Víravara in the Hitopadesa, which is also found in the Vetálapanchavinsati, (see chapter 78 of this work.) Víravara, according to the account in the Vetálapanchavinsati, hears the weeping of a woman. He finds it is the king's fortune deserting him. He accordingly offers up his son, and finally slays himself. The king is about to do the same when the goddess Durgá restores the dead to life. The story of "Der Treue Johannes" will at once occur to readers of Grimm's tales. According to Benfey, it is also found in the Pentamerone of Basile. The form of the tale in our text is very similar to that in Grimm. (See Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 416.) The story of the faithful Víravara occurs twice in this collection, in chapter 53, and also in chapter 78. Sir G. Cox (in his Aryan Mythology, Vol. I p. 148), compares the German story with one in Miss Frere's Old Deccan Days, the 5th in that collection. Other parallels will be found in the notes in Grimm's third volume. A very striking parallel will be found in Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, Story No. 3, p. 68. In this story the three Moirai predict evil. The young prince is saved by his sister, from being burnt, and from falling over a precipice when a child, and from a snake on his wedding-day. See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, pp. 301-302. Cp. also Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, No. 51, Pedro e Pedrito, p. 118, and Grimm's Irische Märchen, pp. 106, 107. In the Gagga Játaka, No. 135, Fausböll, Vol. II, p. 15, the Buddha tells how the custom of saying "Jíva" or "God bless you" originated. A Yakka was allowed to eat all who did not say "Jíva" and "Patijíva." Zimmer in his Alt-Indisches Leben, p. 60, quotes from the Atharva Veda, "vor Unglück-bedeutendem Niesen." [460] The same idea is found in Midsummer Night's Dream, Act III, Sc. 2, beginning, "We, Hermia, like two artificial gods &c." [461] Cp. Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, pp. 69 and 71, for the three dangers. The custom of saying "God bless you," or equivalent words, when a man sneezes, is shewn by Tylor (Primitive Culture, Vol. I, pp. 88-94) to exist in many parts of the world. He quotes many passages from classical literature relating to it. "Even the emperor Tiberius, that saddest of men, exacted this observance." See also Sir Thomas Browne's Vulgar Errors, Book IV ch. 9, "Of saluting upon sneezing." [462] There is a story illustrating the "pertinacity" of goblins in Wirt Sikes's British Goblins, p. 191. [463] I have been obliged to omit some portion of this story. "It was," Wilson remarks, "acceptable to the couteurs of Europe, and is precisely the same as that of 'Le petit diable de Papefigue' of Fontaine." [464] Suvrittayá means virtuous, and beautifully-rounded. [465] Cp. Chaucer's Squire's Tale, line 316, "Ye moten trille a pin, stant in his ere." [466] This may remind the reader of the story of the pestle in Lucian's Philopseudes, that was sent to fetch water. When the Ægyptian sorcerer was away, his pupil tried to perform the trick. But he did not know the charm for stopping the water-carrying process. Accordingly the house was flooded. In despair he chopped the pestle in two with an axe. That made matters worse, for both halves set to work to bring water. The story has been versified by Goethe, and the author of the Ingoldsby Legends. [467] Here Dr. Brockhaus supposes a line to be omitted. The transition is somewhat abrupt. [468] Cp. with the story of Kírtisená the substance of two modern Greek songs given in Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 187. [469] i. e. Wealth-preserved. [470] Böhtlingk and Roth in their Dictionary explain the passage as follows: imam, (i. e., patim) vyutthápya yátá iti, she was unfaithful to her husband. [471] Gotraja nearly equivalent to the Gentile of Roman law, and applied to kindred of the same general family connected by offerings of food and water; hence opposed to the Bandhu or cognate kindred. She represented that she was a prince whose clansmen were trying to disinherit him. [472] Cp. Thorpe's Yuletide Stories, p. 341, cited before on p. 25, also Sagas from the Far East, p. 162. The Mongolian version supplies the connecting link between India and Europe. In the Sagas from the Far East, the Rákshasas are replaced by crows. Compare also the way in which the gardener in "Das Rosmarinsträuchlein," Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 12, acquires some useful information. The story of Kírtisená from this point to the cure of the king closely resembles the latter half of Die Zauberkugeln in the same collection. A striking parallel will be found in Basile's Pentamerone, Vol. I, p. 166. See also Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 272; Gaal, Die Märchen der Magyaren, p. 178; Coelho, Contos Populares Portuguezes, p. 47. In Waldau's Story there is a strange similarity in the behaviour of the king, on first seeing the young physician, to that of Vasudatta. See also the Sixth Tale in Ralston's Tibetan Tales and the remarks in the Introduction, p. li. [473] Names of Rákshasas mentioned in the Rámáyana. [474] Water is the principal ingredient of the offering called argha or arghya. [475] This gem is formed from the congelation of the rays of the moon, and dissolves under the influence of its light. There is of course an elaborate pun in Chandrakánta. [476] This is well known in India now. A crow alighted on a palm-tree when just about to fall, and so it appeared that his weight made it fall. For this and many other hints I am indebted to Pandit S. C. Mookerjea, of the Hindu School. [477] Benfey considers that this, as well as "Haripriya," means "blockhead," Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 374. [478] A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads jnánavijna, i. e., the knowing one, the astrologer. [479] This word means tongue. [480] Cp. Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 240. So Arthur in the Romance of Artus de la Bretagne (Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 107) falls in love with a lady he sees in a dream. Liebrecht in his note at the end of the book tells us that this is a common occurrence in Romances, being found in Amadis of Greece, Palmerin of Oliva, the Romans de Sept Sages, the Fabliau of the Chevalier à la Trappe, the Nibelungen Lied, &c., and ridiculed by Chaucer in his Rime of Sir Topas. He also refers to Athenæus, p. 575, and the Hermotimus of Lucian. [481] The mountain Mandara which served as a churning-stick at the churning of the ocean of milk. [482] Velátá is evidently corrupt. [483] This is to be understood literally of Siva and Párvatí, but metaphorically of Ushá and Aniruddha. [484] I read evam for eva. [485] The wife of Indra. [486] i. e. Brihaspati. [487] For san I should prefer sa which is read in a MS. lent me by the Principal of the Sanskrit College. [488] Takshasilá has been identified by General Cunningham with the ruins of an ancient city near Shah-deri one mile to the north-east of Kála-ka-serai. Mr. Growse has pointed out to me that I made a mistake in stating (after Wilson) in a note on p. 5 of this translation, that the precise site of Kausámbí, the capital of the king of Vatsa, which Kalingasená reached in one day in the magic chariot, has not been ascertained. He says: "It has been discovered by General Cunningham. The place is still called Kosam, and is on the Yamuná, about 30 miles above Allahabad. The ruins consist of an immense fortress, with earthen ramparts from 30 to 35 feet high, and bastions considerably higher, forming a circuit of 23,100 feet, or exactly four miles and 3 furlongs. The parapets were of brick and stone, some of the bricks measuring 19 in. × 12 1/2 × 2 1/2, which is a proof of their great antiquity. In the midst of these ruins is a large stone monolith, similar to those at Allahabad and Delhi, but without any inscription. The portion of the shaft above ground is 14 feet in length, and an excavation made at the base for a depth of 20 feet did not come to the end of it. Its total length probably exceeds 40 feet. There was, I believe, some talk of removing it to Allahabad and setting it up there, but it was found to be too expensive an undertaking." Srávastí, which Kalingasená passed on the way from Takshasilá, has been identified by General Cunningham with Sáhet-Mahet on the south bank of the Rapti in Oudh. [489] Here there is a slight omission in my translation. Cp. the story of St. Macarius. [490] The country lying between the Himálayas on the north, the Vindhya mountains on the south, Vinasana on the west and Prayága (Allahabad) on the east. [491] A respectful offering to gods or venerable men of rice, dúrva-grass, flowers &c. with water. [492] Cp. for the artifice used to ruin Kadalígarbhá, Dusent's Norse Tales, pp. 65 and 66. [493] Cp. the 40th story in Grimm's Kinder- und Hausmärchen, where the girl finds her way by the peas and lentiles which had sprung up. See also the 2nd story in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, where the girl scatters bran. The author of the notes to Grimm's Märchen mentions a story from Hesse in which the heroine scatters ashes. See also the 49th of the Sicilianische Märchen. See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, pp. 265, 313, 441-444, and 447, where peas are used for the same purpose. See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, p. 165. See also Perrault's Le petit Poucet; Basile's Pentamerone, No. 48. [494] This is a reproduction of the story of Devasena and Unmádiní in the 3rd book. [495] Compare the "death-darting eye of cockatrice" in Romeo and Juliet. See also Schmidt's Shakespeare Dictionary under the word "basilisk." [496] Benfey found this story in the Arabic Version of the Panchatantra and in all the translations and reproductions of it. He finds it also in the Mahábhárata, XII (III, 589) sl. 4930 and ff. He expresses his opinion that it formed a portion of the original Panchatantra. See Benfey's Panchatantra, pp. 544-560, Orient und Occident, Vol. I. p. 383. The account in the Mahábhárata is very prolix. [497] For nihatya I conjecture nikhanya. [498] The plant Uraria Lagopodioides (Monier Williams). [499] For similar instances of forgetting in European stories, see Nos. 13, 14, 54, 55 in the Sicilianische Märchen with Köhler's notes, and his article in Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 103. [500] i. e. Káma the Hindu Cupid. [501] This probably means in plain English that she wore glittering anklets. [502] Cp. the conduct of the Meerweib in Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 55. [503] i. e. Siva. [504] Prajápati. [505] Literally--placing it upon his head.Cp. also the following passage from Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. II, p. 78. "Borlase quotes from Martin's Western Islands. 'The same lustration by carrying of fire is performed round about women after child-bearing, and round about children before they are christened, as an effectual means to preserve both the mother and the infant from the power of evil spirits.'" Brand compares the Amphidromia at Athens. See Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, Vol. I, pp. 125, and 289: Vol. II, pp. 17 and 33-34. [506] The superstitious custom of lighting fires, lamps &c., to protect children against evil spirits is found in many countries. Liebrecht (Zur Volkskunde, p. 31,) refers us to Brand's Popular Antiquities, edited by Hazlitt, Vol. II, p. 144, for the prevalence of the practice in England. "Gregory mentions 'an ordinary superstition of the old wives who dare not trust a child in a cradle by itself alone without a candle.' This he attributes to their fear of the night-hag;" (cp. Milton, P. L. II, 662-665). He cites authorities to prove that it exists in Germany, Scotland, and Sweden. In the latter country, it is considered dangerous to let the fire go out until the child is baptized, for fear that the Trolls may substitute a changeling in its place. The custom exists also in the Malay Peninsula, and among the Tájiks in Bokhara. The Roman custom of lighting a candle in the room of a lying-in woman, from which the goddess Candelifera derived her name (Tertullian Adv. nation, 2, 11) is to be accounted for in the same way. See also Veckenstedt, Wendische Sagen, p. 446. The same notion will be found in Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, pp. 17, 64, 89, 91; Vol. II, p. 43. [507] For treasures and their guardians see Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, pp. 356-374 and p. 394. For the candle of human fat see Benfey in Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 383. For treasures and their guardians see Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 243 and ff., and for the candle of human fat, Vol. II, pp. 333 and 335 of the same work. Cp. also Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, pp. 251 and 262-270. It appears from Henderson's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties, that in Europe a candle of human fat is used with the Hand of Glory by robbers for the purpose of preventing the inmates of a house from awaking. He gives several instances of its use. The following will serve as a specimen: "On the night of the 3rd of January 1831, some Irish thieves attempted to commit a robbery on the estate of Mr. Napier of Loughcrew, county Meath. They entered the house armed with a dead man's hand with a lighted candle in it, believing in the superstitious notion that a candle placed in a dead man's hand will not be seen by any but those by whom it is used, and also that if a candle in a dead hand be introduced into a house, it will prevent those who may be asleep from awaking. The inmates however, were alarmed, and the robbers fled, leaving the hand behind them." The composition of the candle is evident from the following extract from the Dictionnaire Infernal of Colin de Planey. "The Hand of Glory is the hand of a man who has been hanged, and is prepared in the following manner. Wrap the hand in a piece of winding-sheet, drawing it tight to squeeze out the little blood which may remain; then place it in an earthen-ware vessel with saltpetre, salt and long pepper all carefully and thoroughly powdered. Let it remain a fortnight in this pickle till it is well dried, then expose it to the sun in the dog-days till it is completely parched, or if the sun be not powerful enough, dry it in an oven heated with vervain and fern. Next make a candle with the fat of a hanged man, virgin wax, and Lapland sesame. The Hand of Glory is used to hold this candle when it is lighted. Wherever one goes with this contrivance, those it approaches are rendered as incapable of motion as though they were dead." Southey in Book V of his Thalaba the Destroyer represents a hand and taper of this kind as used to lull to sleep Zohak, the giant keeper of the caves of Babylon. (See the extracts from Grose and Torquemada in the notes to Southey's poem.) Dousterswivel in Sir Walter Scott's Antiquary tells us that the monks used the Hand of Glory to conceal their treasures. (Henderson's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, p. 200 and ff.) Preller, in his Römische Mythologie, p. 488, has a note on incubones or treasure-guarding spirits. Treasures can often be acquired by stealing the caps worn by these incubones as a symbol of their secret and mysterious character. See also the Pentamerone of Basile, p. 96; Grohmann, Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 29 and ff; Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 28. The bug-bears were no doubt much of the kind found in Schöppner's Sagenbuch der Bayerischen Lande, Vol. I, p. 87. For the "hand of glory" see Baring Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, pp. 405-409. Brand in his Popular Antiquities Vol. I, p. 312, quotes from Bergerac's Satirical Characters and Handsome descriptions in his Letters translated out of the French by a Person of Honour, 1658, p. 45, "I cause the thieves to burn candles of dead men's grease to lay the hosts asleep while they rob their houses." A light has this property in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 360; and in Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 146. [508] There is probably a pun too on varti, the wick of a lamp. [509] Literally "made by the gods." [510] i. e. prabhutva, the majesty or pre-eminence of the king himself; mantra, the power of good counsel; utsáha energy. [511] Cp. Odyssey, VII. 116; Spenser's Faery Queene, III, 6, 42. [512] The pun here lies in the word kalá, which means "accomplishment," and also a sixteenth of the moon's diameter. [513] This lotus is a friend of the moon's and bewails its absence. [514] Or perhaps books. [515] I read virága-vishabhrid. [516] i. e. Nágavana. For serpent-worship see Tylor's Primitive Culture, Vol. II, pp. 217-220. The author of Sagas from the Far East remarks; "Serpent-Cultus was of very ancient observance, and is practised by both followers of Bráhmanism and Buddhism. The Bráhmans seem to have desired to show their disapproval of it by placing the serpent-gods in the lower ranks of their mythology, (Lassen. I, 707 and 544, n. 2). This cultus, however, seems to have received a fresh development about the time of Asoka circa 250 B. C. (Vol. II, p. 467). When Madhyantika went into Cashmere and Gandhára to teach Buddhism after the holding of the third synod, it is mentioned that he found sacrifices to serpents practised there (II. 234, 235). There is a passage in Plutarch from which it appears to have been the custom to sacrifice an old woman (previously condemned to death for some crime) to the serpent-gods by burying her alive on the banks of the Indus (II. 467, note 4) Ktesias also mentions the serpent worship (II. 642). In Buddhist legends serpents are often mentioned as protecting patrons of certain towns. (Sagas from the Far East, p. 355). See also Mr. F. S. Growse's Mathurá memoir, p. 71. [517] Literally thorns. [518] The upáyas which are usually enumerated are four, viz. sowing dissension, negotiation, bribery and open attack. [519] The six gunas--peace, war, march, halt, stratagem and recourse to the protection of a mightier king. [520] I read abhyagát with a MS. in the Sanskrit College. [521] I read vismitá with a MS. in the Sanskrit College. [522] i. e. mount Sumeru. The moon being masculine in Sanskrit, the words "form of the moon" are used in the original, to satisfy the requirements of classical Hindu Rhetoric, according to which feminine things cannot be compared to masculine. [523] The sea is always spoken of as full of "inestimable stones, unvalued jewels." There is a double meaning throughout. Sadváhiní, when applied to the sea, may mean "beautiful rivers." [524] Játarúpá also means "having assumed a form," so that there is another pun here. I read abhavan for abhavad, in accordance with a MS. lent me from the Sanskrit College. [525] The cedille under the c of candra should be erased in Dr. Brockhaus's text. [526] Ganesa, who bestows success or the reverse, and is invoked in all undertakings. I read karan dánámbhasá. [527] The word also means "shade." [528] I have no idea what this word lílávajra means. It is translated by Böhtlingk and Roth--ein wie ein Donnerkeil aussehendes Werkzeug. [529] Possibly there is a pun here: dána, giving, also means cutting. [530] The fruit of the Bel, well-known to Anglo-Indians. [531] Párvatí or Durgá, the wife of Siva. [532] The others are the Sun, Fire, Water, Earth, Air, the Moon and the officiating Bráhman. For the latter is sometimes substituted pasupati or lord of animals. [533] Possibly it also means "the swan of the temple of the mind." [534] An allusion to the Arddhanárísa form of Siva. [535] Kalá = digit of the moon and also accomplishment. [536] The vidyá of the Vidyáharas. I read pratíkshyate. [537] Here Professor Brockhaus supposes a hiatus. [538] Cp. this with the "jewel-lamps" on pp. 189 and 305, and the luminous carbuncle in Gesta Romanorum, CVII. Sir Thomas Browne, in his Vulgar Errors, Book II, chapter 5, says, "Whether a carbuncle doth flame in the dark, or shine like a coal in the night, though generally agreed on by common believers, is very much questioned by many." See also Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. I, p. 301; Vol. III, p. 12; Vol. VI, p. 289. Lucian in his De Deâ Syriâ ch. 32, speaks of a precious stone of the name of lychnis which was bright enough to light up a whole temple at night. We read in the history of the Pseudo-Callisthenes, Book II, ch. 42, that Alexander found in the belly of a fish a precious stone which he had set in gold and used at night as a lamp. See also Baring Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, p. 42. See Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 155; Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, III, 14. [539] i. e. supreme lord of jewels. [540] i. e. as Indra mounts Airávata. [541] The modern Tamluk. The district probably comprised the small but fertile tract of country lying to the westward of the Húghli river, from Bardwán and Kalna on the north, to the banks of the Kosai river on the south. (Cunningham's Ancient Geography of India, p. 504.) [542] In the 115th tale of the Gesta Romanorum we read that two chaste virgins were able to lull to sleep and kill an elephant, that no one else could approach. [543] Both were produced at the churning of the ocean. [544] A famous linga of Siva in Ujjayiní. [545] Perhaps the Pushkalávatí described by General Cunningham in his Ancient Geography of India, p. 49. [546] There is a studied ambiguity in all these words, the usual play on affection and oil being kept up. A marginal correction in a Sanskrit College MS. lent to me, gives hridayam. The text has ránjitam stháthaván. The latter is a vox nihili. Brockhaus's text may be explained--My hand full of my heart was steeped in affection for you. [547] For "funeral human sacrifice for the service of the dead," see Tylor's Primitive Culture, pp. 413-422. Cp. Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. III, pp. 165 and 166. [548] i. e. Producer of horns. [549] Cp. the 31st tale in Signora von Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, (p. 209) where the black figs produce horns. There is also in the same story a pipe that compels all that hear its sound to dance. See Dr. Reinhold Köhler's notes on the tale: also Grimm's No. 110 and his notes in his third volume. Cp. also Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 65. See also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 283: Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, No. 20, and Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 484. The incident in Sicilianische Märchen closely resembles one in the story of Fortunatus as told in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. III, p. 175. There is a pipe that compels all the hearers to dance in Hug of Bordeaux, Vol. X, p. 263, and a very similar fairy harp in Wirt Sikes's British Goblins, p. 97; and a magic fiddle in Das Goldene Schachspiel, a story in Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 160. A fiddler in Bartsch's Sagen aus Meklenburg, (Vol. I, p. 130) makes a girl spin round like a top. From that day she was lame. See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, pp. 182 and 288, and Baring Gould, IInd Series, p. 152. Kuhn, in his Westfälische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 183, mentions a belief that horns grew on the head of one who looked at the Wild Huntsman. It is just possible that this notion may be derived from the story of Actæon. A statue found in the ruins of the villa of Antoninus Pius near Lavinium represents him with his human form and with the horns just sprouting. (Engravings from Ancient Marbles in the British Museum, Plate XLV.) Cp. also the story of Cipus in Ovid's Metamorphoses XV, 552-621. For the magic pipe see Grimm's Irische Märchen, Einleitung, p. lxxxiii; Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 264. Remarks on the pipe and horns will be found in Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction pp. liv-lvi. [550] Cp. Grimm's Märchen, No. 193. The parallel between Grimm's story and that of Vidúshaka in Chapter 18 is still more striking. [551] This idea, which is met with so frequently in this work, is found in China also. See Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, Vol. I, p. 177, where Miss Li, who is a devil, hears the cock crow and vanishes. [552] Cp. Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, pp. 256 and 394. See also No. CXXIX in Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, Vol. II, p. 265, the title of which is "Making of Animals." Cp. with the string the gold rings in the Volsunga Saga, Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. III, p. 30. In Ovid's Metamorphoses VIII, 850, and ff. there is an account of Mestra's transformations. Neptune gave her the power of transforming herself whenever she was sold by her father. See also the story of Achelous and Hercules in book IX of the Metamorphoses; Prym and Socin's Syrische Märchen, p. 229, where we have the incident of the selling; Waldau, Böhmische Märchen, p. 125; Coelho Contos Portuguezes, p. 32. [553] Pandit Syámá Charan Mukhopádhyáya conjectures ásoshyamáne. This I adopt unhesitatingly. [554] Cp. Sagas from the Far East, p. 35. This story very closely resembles that of Sidi Noman in the Arabian Nights, and the Golden Ass of Apuleius. [555] Compare Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. I, pp. 156, 157, also Campbell's Tales from the Western Highlands, Vol. II, p. 422, and Sagas from the Far East, p. 4. This part of the story comes under Mr. Baring-Gould's Magical Conflict root. (See his Story Radicals in the appendix to Henderson's Folklore of the Northern Counties.) Cp. also Miss Keary's Heroes of Asgard, p. 223, where Loki and Idúna in the forms of a falcon and a sparrow are pursued by the giant Thiassi in the shape of an eagle. [556] The word samvara, which I have translated "congregation," probably means "sorcery;" see Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. [557] I adopt kritam the reading of a MS. lent me from the Sanskrit College. I should put a comma after álápam, as that word is used in the masculine. [558] I. e. lord of horses. [559] I. e. lord of elephants. [560] I. e. Man-lion. [561] Kárpatika; for the use of this word see chapters 24, 63 and 81 of this work. [562] I follow sákútam the reading of the MS in the Sanskrit College. So the wounds of Sir Urro of Hungary were healed, as soon as they were handled by the valiant Sir Launcelot (La Mort d'Arthure, Vol. III, p. 270). [563] Here the word Sramana is used, which generally means--"Buddhist ascetic." [564] I. e. deceitful-minded. [565] Cp. the story of Phalabhúti in the 20th Taranga. I may here mention that Liebrecht points out a striking parallel to the story of Fulgentius, (with which I have compared that of Phalabhúti,) in the Nugæ Curialium of Gualterus Mapes: (Zur Volkskunde, p. 38). [566] Cp. Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. II, p. 46, where the giant treacherously lets fall his gauntlet, and asks his adversary to pick it up. His adversary, the hero of the story, tells him to pick it up himself, and when the giant bends down for the purpose, cuts off his head with one blow of his sword. [567] Here there is an elaborate pun--kara means hand and also proboscis--dána giving and the ichor that exudes from the temples of a mast elephant. "Surrounded with clustering bees" may also mean, "surrounded with handmaids whose consolations worried her." [568] The word vibudha also means gods--and the gods feed on the moon. [569] Compare the lichi in the XVth of Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales, and the páyasa in the XVIth Sarga of the Rámáyana. See also Sicilianische Märchen, page 269, and Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, pp. 104, 117 and 120. The beginning of this tale belongs to Mr. Baring-Gould's Gold-child root. Another parallel is to be found in Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 168. See also Sagas from the Far East, p. 268; Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, p. 105. See Volsunga Saga in Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. III, pp. 8 and 9. [570] Kshetra here means "a holy field" or sacred spot. [571] This part of the story reminds one of the Clerk's Tale in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. [572] See Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 80 where numerous parallels are adduced. Cp. also Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 199. [573] Compare the story of "The Golden Lion" in Laura von Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. II, p. 76, where the lady places a white cloth round her waist. See Dr. Köhler's note on the passage. Compare also the hint which Messeria gives to her lover in the Mermaid, Thorpe's Yule Tide Stories, p. 198, and the behaviour of Singorra on page 214. See also "The Hasty Word," Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 368, and The "Water King and Vasilissa the Wise", p. 128; Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, pp. 256 and 258, and Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 408 and Wirt Sikes's British Goblins, p. 39. The washing of the hero by a chetí is quite Homeric, (Odyssey XIX, 386.) In a Welsh story (Professor Rhys, Welsh Tales, p. 8) a young man discovers his lady-love by the way in which her sandals are tied. There are only two to choose from, and he seems to have depended solely upon his own observation. [574] A khárí = about 3 bushels. [575] Compare the way in which Psyche separated the seeds in the Golden Ass of Apuleius, Lib. VI. cap X, and the tasks in Grimm's Märchen, Nos. 62, 186, and 193. A similar incident is found in a Danish Tale, Swend's Exploits, p. 353 of Thorpe's Yule-Tide Stories. Before the king will allow Swend to marry the princess, he gives him a task exactly resembling the one in our text. He is told to separate seven barrels of wheat and seven barrels of rye, which are lying in one heap. The ants do it for him, because he had on a former occasion crumbled his bread for them. See also the story of the beautiful Cardia, Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, p. 188. The hero has first to eat a cellar full of beans; this he accomplishes by means of the king of the ravens, his brother-in-law. He next disposes of a multitude of corpses by means of another brother-in-law, the king of the wild beasts; he then stuffs a large number of mattresses with feathers by the help of a third brother-in-law, the king of the birds. See also Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales, Tale XXII, and the note at the end of this chapter. So in No. 83 of the Sicilianische Märchen the ants help Carnfedda because he once crumbled his bread for them. [576] i. e. Siva. [577] A forest in Kurukshetra sacred to Indra and burnt by Agni the god of fire with the help of Arjuna and Krishna. [578] Hektor, atar sy moi essi patêr kai potnia mêtêr êde kasignêtos, sy de moi thaleros parakoitês. [579] I. e., like an arrow in speed. [580] For this part of the story see Sicilianische Märchen, No 14, with Dr. Köhler's note. [581] In Ovid's Metamorphoses VIII, 855, the dominus asks Mestra, who has been transformed into a fisherman, if she has seen herself pass that way. [582] Compare the story of "die kluge Else," the 34th in Grimm's Kinder- und Hausmärchen, where the heroine has a doubt about her own identity and goes home to ask her husband, and No. 59 in the same collection. Cp. also Campbell's Tales from the West Highlands, Vol. II, p. 375, where one man is persuaded that he is dead, another that he is not himself, another that he is dressed when he is naked. See also the numerous parallels given in Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 54., Liebrecht (Zur Volkskunde, p. 128) mentions a story in which a woman persuades her husband, that he is dead. See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 508. In Prym and Socin's Syrische Märchen, No. LXII, page 250, the flea believes himself to be dead, and tells every one so. [583] Cp. Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. II, p. 167, where Ake makes his wife Wolfriana intoxicated with the object of discovering her secret. [584] Reading avadishyáma. I find that this is the reading of a MS. in the Sanskrit College. [585] I. e. a great or distinguished minister. "Bull" is more literal than "ox," but does not suit the English idiom so well. Gomukha means Ox-face. [586] Guna means virtue and also a thread. [587] This incident is found in the story of Yavakríta in the 135th chapter of the Mahábhárata. [588] I read rúpam for rúpyam. [589] I. e. Indra. [590] Literally "having no auspicious marks." [591] I. e. Fond of enjoyment. [592] I. e. "New moon." [593] In the Mahávastu Avadána (in Dr. R. L. Mitra's Sanskrit Buddhist Literature of Nepal, p. 123) a girl named Amitá is cured of leprosy by being shut up in an underground chamber. [594] I suppose this must mean "prepared of the flesh of wild goats." A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads ramyáni "pleasant." [595] Plushta is a mistake for pushta, see Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. [596] I. e. free from old age. [597] This reminds one of Story XII in the Gesta Romanorum. [598] I. e. long-lived. [599] See the IVth chapter of Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, page 221, Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 125. [600] Water, rice, dúrva grass, &c. offered to guests. [601] Fabulous animals with eight feet. [602] Cp. Sicilianische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 74. [603] I. e. Camphor-produced. In the Arabian Nights the Camphor islands are mentioned. See Lane's Translation, Vol. I, page 544. [604] I find that a MS. in the Sanskrit College reads avatitírshum. This is obviously the right reading. [605] The city of Kuvera the god of wealth. [606] The mother, i. e., Durgá. [607] See Ralston's remarks on this story in his Russian Folk-Tales, p. 71. In Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 44, Hilda reunites, as fast as she is cut in two, but at last Dietrich, by the advice of Hildebrand, steps between the two pieces, and interferes with the vis medicatrix. Baring Gould seems to identify this story of Indívarasena with that of St. George. In his essay on that hero-saint, (p. 305, New Edition,) he observes, "In the Kathá Sarit Ságara a hero fights a demon monster, and releases a beautiful woman from his thraldom. The story, as told by Soma Deva, has already progressed, and assumed a form similar to that of Perseus and Andromeda. [608] The word literally means chariot of the mind. There is a pun here. [609] This resembles the German story of the two brothers as given in Cox's Aryan Mythology, Vol. I, p. 162. See also Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Nos. 39 and 40, with Dr. Köhler's note. He there refers us to his own remarks on the 4th of Campbell's West Highland Tales in Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 118, and to Grimm, Nos. 60 and 85, Hahn No. 22, Widter-Wolf, No. 8, Vernaleken, No. 35, &c. In Grimm's No. 60, we have a magic sword, and the temporary death of one of the brothers is indicated by the dimming of one side of a knife. This story resembles Grimm's more closely, than that of Asokadatta and Vijayadatta in ch. 25. See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 474. See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, p. 328, Vol. II, p. 317. The story of Amys and Amylion, in Ellis's Metrical Romances, resembles closely the tale, as given by Grimm and Gonzenbach. So too do the 7th and 9th stories of the 1st day in the Pentamerone of Basile, and the 52nd in Coelho's Contos Populares Portuguezes, p. 120. Perhaps the oldest mythological pair of brothers are the Asvins, who have their counterpart in the Dioscuri and in Heracles and Iphiclus. [610] I. e., brightness of the sun. Chandravatí means moonlike. [611] I. e. Siva the beloved of Párvatí. [612] I read sarastírát for sarittírát. [613] Here there is a pun, as the words may also be construed "woven of excellent threads." [614] Maya was the architect of the Daityas. According to some Maya = Ptolemaios. [615] I. e. holding life. [616] Cp. the Metamorphoses (Golden Ass) of Apuleius, Lib. V, cap. III. Visoquestatim semirotundo suggestu propter instrumentum coenatorum, rata refectui suo commodum, libens accumbit. Et illico vini nectarei eduliumque variorum fercula copiosa, nullo serviento, sed tantum spiritu quodam impulsa, subministrantur. See also the romance of Parthenopex of Blois in Dunlop's History of Fiction, (Liebrecht's translation, p. 175). See Liebrecht's translation of the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I, p. 55. [617] I. e., holding or possessing a kingdom. [618] I. e., greed of wealth. [619] Cp. Die Sieben Weisen Meister c. 18, (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XII, p. 185). [620] See note on page 305. [621] Cp. Herodotus III. 119; Antigone, vv. 909-912. See also the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. II, p. 131, and the Ucchanga Játaka, No. 67 in Dr. Fausböll's edition. [622] A mere pun. [623] I read with a MS. in the Sanskrit College--bhayade há múrta iva sáhase. [624] "Wish" is literally "chariot of the mind," so here there is a pun. [625] Both Srí and the Amrita came out of the sea when it was churned. Sudasárha kúlena seems to be corrupt. [626] i. e., Ganesa. [627] i. e., Diamond-peak. [628] For ubhayavedyeka the Petersburg lexicographers read ubhayavedyardha. I have followed this reading. [629] Identified by General Cunningham with the Sangala of Alexander. (Ancient Geography of India, p. 179 & ff.) [630] i. e., Siva. [631] I read bodhitah. [632] Kánchí means girdle, guna excellence and thread. The last clause might be translated--made of threads. [633] I read Súryaprabha for Súryachandra. [634] Vidyunmálá means "garland of lightning." [635] Alluding to Indra's slaying the demon Vritra, who was regarded as a Bráhman, and to his conduct with Ahalyá. [636] I. q. Siva. [637] i. e., Siva. [638] One of the seven under-worlds. [639] I. q. Acesines and Hydraotes. [640] I. e., a day of Brahmá consisting of 1000 yugas. [641] Cp. the halo or aureole round the heads of Christian saints, the circle of rays and nimbus round the head of Greek divinities, and the beam that came out of Charles the Great's mouth and illumined his head. (Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, translated by Stallybrass, p. 323.) Cp. Livy I, 39; and Le Lotus de la Bonne Loi (Burnouf) p. 4. [642] Kála means Time, Fate, Death. [643] I divide sa sivákhyánám and take sa to be the demonstrative pronoun. [644] I. e. the Yoga system. [645] This superstition appears to be prevalent in China. See Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, Vol. I, p. 23, and other passages. It was no doubt carried there by the same wave of Buddhism that carried there many similar notions connected with the transmigration of souls, for instance the belief that children are born able to speak, and that this is very inauspicious. (Cp. Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, Vol. I, p. 184 with the story of Dharmagupta and Chandraprabhá in the 17th chapter of this work.) The existence of this latter belief in Europe is probably to be ascribed to the influence of Buddhism. [646] Here I read Srutasarma-sapakshatvam. [647] Usanas here means Sukra, the spiritual guide of the Asuras. [648] I read pasyásya rúpam. This gives a better sense. It is partly supported by a MS. in the Sanskrit College. The same MS. in the next line reads tvám tu pasyati chaiko'pi--I read tvám tu pasyatu chaisho'pi. [649] Lit. "the shape of the moon"; put for the moon, because the author is speaking of a woman. See Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. [650] I. e. áryaputra, used by a wife in addressing a husband. [651] A MS. in the Sanskrit College reads asau where Brockhaus reads amúr. [652] The Petersburg lexicographers remark that sampadád is "wohl fehlerhaft." A MS. in the Sanskrit College has sádarád. But this seems improbable with sádare in the line above. Babu Syámá Charan Mukhopádhyáya conjectures sammadád which I have adopted. [653] The eight Lokapálas or guardians of the world. [654] I. e. the Vidyádharas. [655] His charioteer. [656] I read samárúdha-Bhútásana-vimánakáh. [657] Reading rabhasokti for nabhasokti. Perhaps siddhimitam in sl. 78, a, should be siddhamidam. [658] In the MS. lent me from the Sanskrit College I find sodháhidansasya and visodhavahnes. [659] Reading aneko dhanyártho. [660] Cp. Odyssey 4. 841 hôs hoi enarges oneiron epessyto nyktos amolgô, where some suppose amolgos to mean the four hours before daybreak. [661] I read cha ranadíksháyám. [662] The MS. in the Sanskrit College reads tatrásyástu sivam távat; let him succeed in the battle. [663] I. e. attendants of Siva. [664] The word, which I have translated "human sacrifice," is purushamedha. For the prevalence of human sacrifices among all nations of antiquity see Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, translated by Stallybrass, Vol. I, p. 44 and ff; see also Tylor's Primitive Culture, Vol. II, p. 246, 353, 361, 365. Dr. Rajendralála Mitra. Rai Bahadúr, in an essay in the Journal of the Asiatic Society for 1876, entitled "Human Sacrifices in India," traces the history of the practice in India, and incidentally among the principal nations of antiquity. The following is his own summary of his conclusions with respect to the practice in India. (1) That, looking to the history of human civilization, and the rituals of the Hindus, there is nothing to justify the belief that in ancient times the Hindus were incapable of sacrificing human beings to their gods. (2) That the Sunahsepha hymns of the Rig Veda Sanhitá most probably refer to a human sacrifice. (3) That the Aitareya Bráhmana refers to an actual, and not a typical human sacrifice. (4) That the Purushamedha originally required the actual sacrifice of men. (5) That the Satapatha Bráhmana sanctions human sacrifice in some cases, but makes the Purushamedha emblematic. (6) That the Taittiríya Bráhmana enjoins the sacrifice of a man at the Horse sacrifice. (7) That the Puránas recognise human sacrifices to Chandiká but prohibit the Purushamedha rite. (8) That the Tantras enjoin human sacrifices to Chandiká, and require that, when human victims are not available, an effigy of a human being should be sacrificed to her. Of the sacrifices to Chandiká we have enough and to spare in the Kathá Sarit Ságara. Strange to say, it appears that human sacrifices were offered in Greece on Mount Lykaion in Arcadia even in the time of Pausanias. Dim traditions with respect to the custom are still found among the inhabitants of that region, (Bernhard Schmidt, Griechische Märchen, p. 27). Cp. the institution of the pharmakoi connected with the worship of Apollo! Preller, Griechische Mythologie, Vol. I, p. 202; see also pp. 240 and 257 and Vol. II, pp. 310 and 466; Herodotus VII, 197; Plato, Min. p. 315, C; Preller, Römische Mythologie, p. 104. [665] Cp. chapter 45. In chapter 73 will be found another instance of a "rifted rock whose entrance leads to hell." Cp. the Hercules Furens of Seneca, v. 662 & ff. [666] For a parallel to the absurdities that follow, see Campbell's West Highland Tales, p. 202. [667] The personified energies of the principal deities, closely connected with the worship of the god Siva. Professor Jacobi compares them with the Greek goddesses called mêteres, to whom there was a temple in the Sicilian town of Engyion. (Indian Antiquary, January 1880.) [668] For ávaham I read áhavam. [669] Labdhakakshyáh is probably a misprint for baddhakakshyáh. [670] I read abhikánkshá for abhikánksho which is found in Brockhaus's text. This is supported by a MS. in the Sanskrit College. [671] The MS. in the Sanskrit College reads jagme. [672] Possibly an arrow with a head resembling two hands joined. [673] There is probably a pun here. Kshetra, besides its astrological sense, means a wife on whom issue is begotten by some kinsman or duly appointed person, as in the Jewish law. [674] Tvashtri is the Vulcan of the Hindus. Bhaga is an Áditya regarded in the Vedas as bestowing wealth, and presiding over marriage, his Nakshatra is the Uttara Phálguní. Aryaman is also an Áditya; Púshan, originally the sun, is in later times an Áditya. The "canopy of arrows" reminds us of the saying of Dieneces, Herodotus, VII. 227, and of Milton, P. L., VI. 666. [675] An epithet of Siva in his character of the destroying deity. [676] There are three different styles of music called tára, udára, and mudára. So the word márga contains a pun. [677] Ogha means current and also quick time in music. [678] Chhaláhatah is a mistake for chhaládritah. See Böhtlingk and Roth, (s. v. han with á). The MS. in the Sanskrit College has chhaládatah. [679] Here Brockhaus makes a hiatus. [680] I read Gunasarmanah or Gunasarmane. [681] The old story of Hippolyte, the wife of Acastus, (the "Magnessa Hippolyte" of Horace,) and Peleus, of Antea and Bellerophon, of Phædra and Hippolytus, of Fausta and Crispus. See also the beginning of the Seven Wise Masters, Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XII, pp. 128, 129. Cp. also Grössler, Sagen der Grafschaft Mansfeld, p. 192. See the remarkable statement in Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 31, quoted from Pausanias I, 22, 1, to the effect that the story of Phædra was known to "Barbarians." [682] Cp. the English superstitions with regard to the raven, crow and magpie (Henderson's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties, pp. 95 and 96, Hunt's Romances and Drolls of the West of England, p. 429, Thiselton Dyer, English Folk-lore, pp. 80 and 81). See also Horace, Odes, III, 27. In Europe the throbbing or tingling of the left ear indicates calamity, (Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 327, Hunt's Romances and Drolls of the West of England, p. 430, Thiselton Dyer, English Folk-lore, p. 279). See also Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. II, p. 313, and Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, pp. 374-378, and 404. For similar superstitions in ancient Greece see Jebb's Characters of Theophrastus, p. 163, "The superstitious man, if a weasel run across his path, will not pursue his walk until some one else has traversed the road, or until he has thrown three stones across it. When he sees a serpent in his house, if it be the red snake, he will invoke Sabazius, if the sacred snake, he will straightway place a shrine on the spot * * * * If an owl is startled by him in his walk, he will exclaim "Glory be to Athene!" before he proceeds." Jebb refers us to Ar. Eccl. 792. [683] The Sanskrit College MS. reads nyáyam for práptam "hear my suit against Gunasarman." This makes a far better sense. [684] Daridryo is probably a misprint for daridro. [685] Cp. Thiselton Dyer's English Folk-lore, p. 280. He remarks: "A belief was formerly current throughout the country in the significance of moles on the human body. When one of these appeared on the upper side of the right temple above the eye, to a woman it signified good and happy fortune by marriage. This superstition was especially believed in in Nottinghamshire, as we learn from the following lines, which, says Mr. Briscoe, (author of 'Nottinghamshire Facts and Fictions') were often repeated by a poor girl at Bunny:-- 'I have a mole above my right eye, And shall be a lady before I die. As things may happen, as things may fall Who knows but that I may be Lady of Bunny Hall?' The poor girl's hopes, it is stated, were ultimately realized, and she became 'Lady of Bunny Hall.' See Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. III, pp. 252-255. [686] I read dehatyágam and vánchasi. [687] I. e. "beautiful." There is a pun here. [688] Pátála = Hades, i. e., the world below, vasati = dwelling. [689] Here Brockhaus supposes a hiatus. [690] Savará should probably be saraká. [691] Here Brockhaus supposes a hiatus. [692] The god of Death. [693] i. e. Destruction (a goddess of death and corruption). [694] i. e. the god of the wind. [695] The god of wealth. [696] Cp. Homer's Iliad, Book XV, 113-141. [697] For anyonyais I read anye' anyais. [698] Or perhaps--with arrows having ten million points. [699] Cp. Thiselton Dyer's English Folk-lore, p. 203. [700] Probably some kind of sparkling gem. [701] Said to mean, planets or demons unfavourable to children. [702] Cp. Odyssey VII, 117. The same is asserted by Palladius of the trees in the island of Taprobane, where the Makrobioi live. The fragment of Palladius, to which I refer, begins at the 7th Chapter of the IIIrd book of the History of the Pseudo-Callisthenes edited by Carolus Mueller. [703] i. e., connected in some way with Buddha. See Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. [704] i. e., the Himálaya. [705] This seems to agree with the story as told in the Bhágavata Purána. For various forms of the Ráma legend, see the translation of the Uttara Ráma Charita by M. Félix Nève. [706] The story of Genovefa in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. I, p. 371, bears a striking resemblance to that of Sítá. The way in which Schmerzensreich and his father retire to the forest at the end of the story is quite Indian. In the Greek novel of Hysminias and Hysmine the innocence of the heroine is tested by the fountain of Diana (Scriptores Erotici, p. 595). For parallels to the story of Genoveva or Genovefa see Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, LII, and the Introduction, p. xxii. [707] One of the five trees of Paradise. For the golden lotuses, see Chapter XXV. In Ch. LII we find trees with trunks of gold and leaves and fruit of jewels. A similar tree is found in the mediæval romance of king Alexander. Dunlop compares the golden vine carried away by Pompey. Liebrecht remarks that there was also a golden vine over the gate of the temple at Jerusalem, and compares the golden lotus made by the Chinese emperor Tunghwan. He refers also to Huon of Bordeaux, Ysaie le Triste, and Grimm's Kindermärchen 130 and 133. (Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 184). See also Milton's Paradise Lost, IV. 220 and 256. Cp. Thalaba the Destroyer, Book I, 30. The passage in the Pseudo-Callisthenes will be found in III, 28, Karl Mueller's Edition. [708] See page 445. [709] Cp. the story of Seyf ul Mulk in the Persian Tales, and the Bahar-Danush, c. 35 (Dunlop, Vol. II, p. 208, Liebrecht's translation, p. 335) see also Dunlop's remarks upon the Polexandre of Gomberville. In this romance Abdelmelec, son of the emperor of Morocco, falls in love with Alcidiana by seeing her portrait (Vol. II, p. 276, Liebrecht's translation, p 372.) A similar incident is found in the romanco of Agesilaus of Colchos, (Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 157.) See Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 3; Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 49; Coelho, Contos Populares Portuguezes, p. 109. [710] For the vidruteshu of Brockhaus's edition I read nihateshu, which I find in the Sanskrit College MS. [711] An elaborate pun. Rasika also means "full of (poetical) flavour." [712] Dim traditions of this mountain seem to have penetrated to Greece and Rome. Aristophanes (Acharnians v. 82) speaks of the king of Persia as engaged for 8 months epi chrysôn orôn. Clark tells us that Bergler quotes Plautus, Stichus 24, Neque ille mereat Persarum sibi montes qui esse perhibentur aurei. (Philological Journal, VIII. p. 192.) See also Ter. Phormio I, 2, 18, Pers. III, 65. Naraváhanadatta's journey through the air may remind the reader of the air-voyage of Alexander in the Pseudo-Callisthenes, II, 41. He sees a serpent below him, and a halôs in the middle of it. A divine being, whom he meets, tells him, that these objects are the earth and the sea. [713] I. e. Siva. [714] See note on page 488. [715] i. e. city of heroes. See Cunningham's Ancient Geography of India, p. 99. [716] Cp. the properties of the magic ring given to Canace in the Squire's tale, and Grimm's story of "Die drei Sprachen," (No. 33, Kindermärchen). See also Tylor's Primitive Culture, Vol. I, pp. 18, 423. In the Edda, Sigurd learns to understand the language of birds by tasting the blood of Fafner. For other parallels see Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 184, and note 248. [717] Cp. the 77th chapter of this work, the second in the Vetála Panchavinsati, and Ralston's exhaustive note, in his Russian Folk-tales, pp. 231, 232, 233. Cp. also Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 114, and Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 486. The Pseudo-Callisthenes (Book II, c. 40) mentions a fountain that restored to life a salt fish, and made one of Alexander's daughters immortal. This is perhaps the passage that was in Dunlop's mind, when he said (page 129 of Liebrecht's translation) that such a fountain is described in the Greek romance of Ismenias and Ismene, for which Liebrecht takes him to task. See the parallels quoted by Dunlop and Liebrecht. Wheeler, in his Noted Names of Fiction, tells us that there was a tradition current among the natives of Puerto Rico, that such a fountain existed in the fabulous island of Bimini, said to belong to the Bahama group. This was an object of eager and long-continued quest to the celebrated Spanish navigator, Juan Ponce de Leon. By Ismenias and Ismene Dunlop probably means Hysminias and Hysmine. See also Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, p. 185. Kuhn in his "Herabkunft des Feuers" traces this story back to the Satapatha Bráhmana. [718] Here there is an elaborate pun. "King" may also mean "mountain," "race" may mean "wings," and the whole passage refers to Indra's clipping the wings of the mountains. [719] Compare the remarkable passage which M. Lévêque quotes from the works of Empedocles (Les Mythes et les Légendes de l'Inde, p. 90). Estin anankês chrêma, theôn psêphisma palaion, aidion, plateessi katesphrêgismenon horkois, eute tis amplakiêsi phonô phila gyia miênê haimasin ê epiorkon hamartêsas epomossê daimôn, hoi te makraiônos lelachasi bioio, tris min myrias hôras apo makarôn alalêsthai, phyomenon pantoia dia chronou eidea thnêtôn, argaleas biotoio metallassonta keleuthous. I have adopted the readings of Ritter and Preller, in their Historia Philosophiæ, in preference to those of M. Lévêque. It is clear that Empedocles supposed himself to be a Vidyádhara fallen from heaven in consequence of a curse. As I observed in an article in the Calcutta Review of 1875, "The Bhagavad Gítá and Christianity," his personality is decidedly Indian. [720] Cp. Odyssey IX. 27, 28. [721] Comprising the modern provinces of Allahabad, Agra, Delhi and Oude. [722] For anrityata I should like to read anartyata. [723] i. e., one who has obtained a prize. [724] Badarínátha is a place sacred to Vishnu in the Himálayas. The Badarínátha peaks, in British Gurwhal, form a group of six summits, from 22,000 to 23,400 feet above the sea. The town of Badarínátha is 55 miles north-east of Srínagar, on the right bank of the Vishnuganga, a feeder of the Alakananda. The temple is situated in the highest part of the town, and below it a tank, supplied by a sulphureous thermal spring, is frequented by thousands of pilgrims. The temple is 10,294 feet above the sea. (Akbar, an Eastern Romance, by Dr. Van Limburg-Brouwer, with an introduction by Clements Markham, p. 1, note.) [725] Prajá means subjects and also offspring. [726] The word artha means wealth, and also meaning. [727] The story of Anangaprabhá may be the origin of the seventh Novel of the IInd day in the Decameron of Boccacio. [728] Prayága--Allahabad, the place of sacrifice kat' exochên. Here the Gangá and Yamuná unite with the supposed subterranean Sarasvatí. [729] The word in the original is kárpatika. Böhtlingk and Roth explain it in this passage as "ein im Dienste eines Fürsten stehender Bettler." It appears from Taranga 81, that a poor man became a kárpatika by tearing a karpata, a ragged garment, in a king's presence. The business of a kárpatika seems to have been to do service without getting anything for it. [730] Cp. the 1st Novel in the 10th Day of the Decameron and Ralston's Russian Folk Tales, p. 197. [731] There is a pun here. The word palása also means "cruel, unmerciful." [732] The word used shews that he was probably a Buddhist mendicant. [733] Cp. Miss Frere's Old Deccan days, p. 171, and Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, p. 430, where the young lady says to Ma; "You have often asked me for money, but on account of your weak luck I have hitherto refrained from giving you any." [734] This story is found in the Hitopadesa, p. 89 of Johnson's translation. [735] These two lines are an elaborate pun--ku = evil, and also earth, guna = virtue, and also string, avichára = injustice, also the movement of sheep. [736] I follow the MS. in the Sanskrit College which reads rodorandhre. [737] Here with the Sanskrit College MS. I read ruditam for the unmetrical kranditam. [738] I read dhrishyan, i. e., rejoicing, from hrish. [739] The word sattvavara here means "possessing pre-eminent virtue." [740] In sl. 163 (a) I read mama for mayá with the Sanskrit College MS. [741] The story, as told in Chapter 78, is somewhat different from this. [742] There is a pun in this word mahásattva. It means noble, good, virtuous, and also full of great monsters. [743] This reminds one of the description which Palladius gives of the happy island of Taprobane. St. Ambrose in his version speaks of it as governed by four kings or satraps. The fragment begins at the 7th chapter of the 3rd book of the History of the Pseudo-Callisthenes edited by Carolus Müller. See Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 239. [744] i. e. Lakshmí or Srí. [745] Hansa--means swan and also supreme soul, i. e., Vishnu. [746] War, peace, marching, encamping, dividing one's forces, seeking the alliance of a more powerful king. [747] Or sects. The word used for "bee" means literally the six-footed. The whole passage is full of double meanings, charana meaning foot, line, i. e., the fourth part of a stanza, and also sect. [748] Darsana utsukah should probably be read here for the sake of the metre. [749] Here there is a pun. [750] This passage is an elaborate pun throughout. [751] I read phalam which I find in the Sanskrit College MS. instead of param. [752] i. e., possessor of much gold. [753] i. e., Durgá. For mritajátir I read mritajánir which is the reading of the MS. in the Sanskrit College. In the next line jívitá should be jívatá. [754] Cp. the story of Dhanagupta and Upabhuktadhana, Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. II, p. 197. It is part of the fifth story, that of Somilaka. See Benfey, Vol. I, p. 321, where he traces it to a Buddhist source. [755] I read tapahstha-púrva-drishtáyás one word. [756] Siva is invoked by a different name for each limb which he is asked to protect. See the quotations in Brand's Popular Antiquities (Bohn's Edition, Vol. I, pp. 365 and 366) from Moresini Papatus and Melton's Astrologaster. Brand remarks, "The Romanists, in imitation of the heathens, have assigned tutelary gods to each member of the body." [757] Víra means hero. [758] The puns here defy translation. [759] Here the Sanskrit text has "and so resembled himself." Each of the Sanskrit compounds may be taken in another sense. The "heat" is valour; the "swans" subject kings; the sight of the king delighted his subjects, and he possessed furious elephants. [760] The Sanskrit College MS. reads Asíkalahayárúdhah. [761] Cp. The Lament of Moschos for Bion, 1. 99-104. [762] I. e. Female snake, somewhat of the nature of the Echidna of our boyhood; hêmisy men nymphên helikôpida kalliparêon hêmisy d' aute pelôron ophin, deinon te megan te. Hesiod. Theog. 298. [763] Cp. the following passage which Wirt Sikes (British Goblins, p. 385) quotes from the Mabinogion. "Take the bowl and throw a bowlful of water on the slab," says the black giant of the wood to Sir Kai, "and thou wilt hear a mighty peal of thunder, so that thou wilt think that heaven and earth are trembling with its fury. With the thunder will come a shower so severe that it will be hardly possible for thee to endure and live. And the shower will be of hailstones; and after the shower the weather will become fair, but every leaf that was upon the tree will have been carried away by the shower." Cp. Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 116, and Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, pp. 101 and 102. [764] I read with the Sanskrit College MS. ajayyah. [765] Böhtlingk conjectures súrpa for súrya; súrpa is a winnowing-basket. [766] This is the sense, but--épsur cannot be right; the Sanskrit College MS. reads--echchhum. Perhaps--echchhuh will do. [767] I read tadá for padá, a conjecture of Babu S. C. Mookerjea's. The Sanskrit College MS. reads atyánandabhrite yuktam návartetám yadátmani. [768] I. e. showerer of riches. [769] The MS. in the Sanskrit College reads svasainyam which saves the metre. [770] Svasuravesmavartmásritas is the reading of the MS. in the library of the Sanskrit College. [771] I read mánitaprakritih, following the MS. in the Sanskrit College. [772] I. e. earth-protector, king. [773] Compare for the idea Richard II. Act III, Sc. 2. line 41 and ff. [774] Here I have omitted a short story. [775] He seems to correspond to the Junker Voland or Herr Urian of the Walpurgisnacht; (see Bayard Taylor's notes to his translation of Goethe's Faust). See also, for the assembly of witches and their uncanny president, Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, pp. 323 and 372. In Bartsch's Sagen &c. aus Meklenburg, pp. 11--44, will be found the recorded confessions of many witches, who deposed to having danced with the Teutonic Bhairava on the Blocksberg. The Mothers of the second part of Faust probably come from Greece. [776] Mukta for yukta, which is clearly a misprint. [777] This story is identical with the story of "The merchant who struck his mother," as given by the Rev. S. Beal in the Antiquary for September 1880. It is also found in the Avadána Sataka: see Dr. R. L. Mitra's Buddhist Literature of Nepal, p. 28, where the above MS. is described. See also Dr. R. Morris's remarks in the Academy of the 27th of August, 1881. [778] A similar transferable wheel is found in the Panchatantra, Vth Book, 3rd Story. Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. II, p. 331. [779] Cp. Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 358. "Great stress is laid in the skazkas and legends upon the terrible power of a parent's curse. The hasty word of a father or mother will condemn even an innocent child to slavery among devils and when it is once uttered, it is irrevocable." Throughout the present work curses appear to be irrevocable but susceptible of modification and limitation. See Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 537, and the remarks of Preller in his Griechische Mythologie, Vol. II, p. 345. [780] Perhaps we should read mrishyatám, forgive me, be patient. [781] This character is probably taken from the Mahábhárata (see Dowson's Classical Dictionary of Hindu Mythology, p. 90). [782] I have followed the Sanskrit College MS. which gives ádarsa. [783] I. e. Benevolent, and also satisfied at heart. [784] Sadguna means good quality, also "good thread." [785] The epithet refers also to the arrows and means "bright with excellent heads." [786] So in Heliodorus, Æthiopica, Lib. III, cap. XIII. alla tois t' aphthalmois an gnôstheien atenes diolou blepontes kai to blepharon ou pot' epimyontes.--In the third canto of the Purgatorio Dante is much troubled at finding that Virgil, being a disembodied spirit, casts no shadow. [787] Kali is the side of the die marked with one point. Dvápara is the side marked with two. They are personified here as demons of gambling. They are also the present, i. e., the fourth and the third Yugas or ages of the world. [788] Cp. Milton's Comus, v. 421 and ff. The word "might" also means "fire". This "fire" burnt up the hunter. The pun in the previous sentence cannot be rendered in English. [789] Here there is a pun. Ambara also means the sky. [790] Preller in his Griechische Mythologie, Vol. II, p. 475, refers to a Servian story, in which a shepherd saves the life of a snake in a forest fire. In return for this service, the snake's father gives him endless treasures, and teaches him the language of birds. [791] For the jewels in the heads of reptiles see the long note in Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 214. The passage in "As you like it" will occur to every one. Snakes' crowns are mentioned in Grössler, Sagen der Grafschaft Mansfeld, p. 178, in Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, pp. 403-405, and in Grohmann, Sagen aus Böhmen, pp. 219 and 223. [792] Dasa means "ten," and also "bite." [793] In Prester John's letter quoted by Baring Gould, Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, New Edition, p. 43, we find, "In one of our lands, hight Zone, are worms called in our tongue Salamanders. These worms can only live in fire, and they build cocoons like silkworms, which are unwound by the ladies of our palace, and spun into cloth and dresses, which are worn by our Exaltedness. These dresses, in order to be cleansed and washed, are cast into flames." [794] Or robe. The pun is obvious. [795] Cp. the 28th story in the 1st Part of Sicilianische Märchen by Laura Gonzenbach, "Von der Tochter der Sonne." Here Lattughina says "Fire, be lighted," and immediately a clear fire burned upon the hearth. Then she said "Come along, pan," and a golden pan came and placed itself upon the fire. "Come along oil," and the oil came and poured itself into the pan. In "The story of Shams ul dín and his son," Hasan Badr ul dín is discovered by his skill in cooking (Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. I, p. 266.) De Gubernatis (Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, p. 158,) remarks that service in the kitchen is especially dear to the young hero. Bhíma disguises himself as a cook in the Viráta parvan of the Mahábhárata. Pausanias tells us, Book I, ch. 16, Seleukô gar, hos hôrmato ek Makedonias syn Alexandrô, Thyonti en Pellê tô Dii, ta xyla epi tou bômou keimena proubê te automata pros to agalma, kai aneu pyros hêphthê. [796] The Petersburg lexicographers think that samvritti should be sadvritti. NOTES TO VOLUME II [1] I read mada for madya. [2] Nrisinha, Vishnu assumed this form for the destruction of Hiranyukasipu. [3] See the note on page 14 of this work. Parallels will be found also in the notes to No. 52 of the Sicilian Tales, collected by Laura von Gonzenbach. I have referred, in the Addenda to the 1st Fasciculus, to Ralston's Russian Folk-tales, p. 230, and Veckenstedt's Wendische Sagen, p. 152. The Mongolian form of the story is found in Sagas from the Far East, p. 148. See also Corrigenda and Addenda to Vol. I, and Dasent's Norse Tales, pp. 12, 264, and 293-295, and xcv of the Introduction. The first parallel is very close, as the hero of the tale lets out his secret, when warmed with wine. For the most ancient example of this kind of tale, see Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories, Introduction, pp. xvi-xxi. Cp. Prym und Socin Syrische Märchen, p. 343; Grimm, Irische Märchen, No. 9, "Die Flasche," p. 42. In the Bhadraghatajátaka, No. 291 Sakko gives a pitcher, which is lost in the same way. Grimm in his Irische Elfenmärchen, Introduction, p. xxxvii, remarks that "if a man discloses any supernatural power which he possesses, it is at once lost." [4] In Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 41, a man possesses himself of an inexhaustible beer-can. But as soon as he told how he got it, the beer disappeared. Another (page 84) spoils the charm by looking into the vessel, at the bottom of which he sees a loathsome toad. This he had been expressly forbidden to do. [5] Wealth in her case, salvation in that of the hermit. [6] Cp. Winter's Tale, Act VI, Scene 4, line 140. [7] i. e., beautiful. [8] I find in the Sanskrit College MS. kimmuchyate for vimuchyate. [9] In La Fontaine's Contes et Nouvelles III, 13, there is a little dog qui secoue de l'argent et des pierreries. The idea probably comes from the Mahábhárata. In this poem Srinjaya has a son named Suvarnashtívin. Some robbers treat him as the goose that laid the golden eggs was treated. There are also birds that spit gold in the Mahábhárata. (See Lévêque, Les Mythes et Légendes de l'Inde, pp. 289-294.) There is an ass with the same gift in Sicilianische Märchen, No. 52. For the wishing-stone see Dasent's Norse Tales, Introduction, p. xcv. He remarks that the stone in his tale No. LIX, which tells the prince all the secrets of his brides, "is plainly the old Okastein or wishing-stone." [10] The reading should be Makarakatyevam. [11] There is a certain resemblance between this story and the Xth Novel of the VIIIth day in Boccacio's Decameron. Dunlop traces Boccacio's story to the Disciplina Clericalis of Petrus Alphonsus (c. 16). It is also found in the Arabian Nights (story of Ali Khoja, the merchant of Baghdad) in the Gesta Romanorum (c. 118), and in the Cento Novelle Antiche (No. 74), see also Fletcher's Rule a Wife and have a Wife. (Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 56, Liebrecht's German translation, p. 247). [12] An elaborate pun. [13] Ralston remarks (Songs of the Russian people, p. 327.) "The fact that in Slavonic lands, a thousand years ago, widows used to destroy themselves, in order to accompany their dead husbands to the world of spirits, seems to rest upon incontestable evidence, and there can be no doubt that 'a rite of suttee, like that of modern India' prevailed among the heathen Slavonians, the descendant, perhaps as Mr. Tylor remarks (Primitive Culture, I, 421) of 'widow-sacrifice' among many of the European nations, of 'an ancient Aryan rite belonging originally to a period even earlier then the Veda'". See also Zimmer, Alt-Indisches Leben, pp. 329-331. [14] i. e., of bad character. [15] The Sanskrit College MS. inserts nícho after kritam. [16] Cp. the falcon in Chaucer's Squire's Tale and the parallels quoted by Skeat in his Introduction to Chaucer's Prioresses Tale &c., p. xlvii. [17] An elaborate pun on dvija and sákhá. [18] For the conception of the sun as an eye see Kuhn, Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks, pp. 52, 53. The idea is common in English poetry. See for instance Milton, P. L. V. 171, Spenser's Faery Queene, I, 3, 4. For instances in classical poetry, see Ovid, Met. IV, 228, Ar. Nub. 286, Soph. Tr. 101. [19] I read tvadvákyam with the Sanskrit College MS. and ahitásanki tachcha in sl. 141 with the same MS. [20] Cp. Aristophanes, Aves, pp. 169, 170. anthrôpos ornis astathmêtos, petomenos atekmartos, ouden oudepot' en tautô menôn [21] This is also found in the Panchatantra and the Hitopadesa. See Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, (Einleitung), p. 100. In fact the present chapter corresponds to the 2nd book of the Hitopadesa, "The separation of friends," Johnson's Translation, p. 40, and to the 1st book of the Panchatantra. In sl. 15, I read, with Dr. Kern, sashpán. [22] Weber supposes that the Indians borrowed all the fables representing the jackal as a wise animal, as he is not particularly cunning. He thinks that they took the Western stories about the fox, and substituted for that animal the jackal. Benfey argues that this does not prove that these fables are not of Indian origin. German stories represent the lion as king of beasts, though it is not a German animal. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, pp. 102, 103). See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, p. 122. [23] This story is found in the Hitopadesa, the Panchatantra, the Kalilah and Dimnah, Anvár-i-Suhaili, Livre des Lumières, p. 61, Cabinet des Fées, XVII. 152, and other collections (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 105.) For the version of the Panchatantra, see Benfey, Vol. II, p. 9, for that of the Hitopadesa, Johnson's Translation, p. 44. For that of the Kalíla and Dimna Benfey refers us to Knatchbull's translation, p. 88, for that of the Anvár-i-Suhaili to Eastwick's translation, p. 86. Benfey considers a fable of Æsop, in which an ape tries to fish and is nearly drowned, an imitation of this. It reminds one of the trick which the fox played the bear in Reineke Fuchs, (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. I, p. 148.) [24] Cp. Panchatantra, Vol. II, p. 21. In the 1st volume Benfey tells us that in the old Greek version of the fables of Bidpai, the fox, who represents the jackal, loses through fear his appetite for other food, and for a hen in the Anvár-i-Suhaili, 99. The fable is also found in Livre des Lumières, p. 72, Cabinet des Fées, p. XVII, 183, and other collections. The Arabic version and those derived from it leave out the point of the drum being found on a battle-field (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 132). Cp. also Campbell's West Highland Tales, p. 268, "A fox being hungry one day found a bagpipe, and proceeded to eat the bag, which is generally made of hide. There was still a remnant of breath in the bag, and when the fox bit it, the drone gave a groan, when the fox, surprised but not frightened, said--'Here is meat and music.'" [25] I follow the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. múdhabuddih prabhur nyáyam ukshnánenádya sikshyate. This satisfies the metre, which Brockhaus's reading does not. [26] This word generally means crocodile. But in the Hitopadesa the creature that kills the crane is a crab. [27] This fable is the 7th in Benfey's translation of the Panchatantra, Vol. II, p. 58. It is found in the 4th book of the Hitopadesa, Johnson's translation, p. 103. It is also found in the Arabic version (Wolff, I, 41, Knatchbull, 114), Symeon Seth (Athenian edition, p. 16,) John of Capua, c. 4, b., German translation (Ulm., p. 1483. D., V, b.,) Spanish translation, XIII, 6, Firenzuola, 39, Doni, 59, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 117, Livre des Lumières, 92, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 221, Thousand and one Nights (Weil, III, 915.) Cp. Lafontaine, X, 4. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 175). Benfey shews that it may be Buddhistic in origin, quoting a story from Upham's Sacred and Historical Books of Ceylon, III, 292. He also shews that it may have come into Buddhist books from the Greek, as Alcæus appears to have been acquainted with a similar Greek fable, (Æsopus, Furia 231, Cor., 70). See also Weber's Indische Studien, III, 343. I may as well mention that in the notes taken from Benfey's Panchatantra I substitute Johnson's translation of the Hitopadesa for Max Mueller's. The story is found in Rhys Davids' translation of the Játakas, (pp. 317-321,) which has just been published. [28] Here he is called a jhasha which means "large fish." [29] Cp. Hitopadesa, Johnson's translation, Fable, IX, p. 61, Arabic, (Wolff., 46, Knatchbull, 117,) Symeon Seth, 18, John of Capua c., 5, b., German translation (Ulm edition) 1483, E., II, a, Spanish, XIII, 6, Firenzuola, 43, Doni, 62, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 124, Livre des Lumières, 99, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 236, Baldo 4th Fable, Livre des Merveilles (in Edéléstand du Méril, Poésies Inédites, 234), also Sukasaptati, 31. Benfey considers it to be Buddhistic in origin, referring to Memoires sur les contrées occidentales traduits du Sanscrit par Hiouen Thsang et du Chinois par Stan. Julien I, 361, Köppen, Religion des Buddha, p. 94, Note I, (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 179 and ff.) This is the 30th story in my copy of the Sukasaptati. [30] Dr. Kern conjectures abhigarjinam but the Sanskrit College MS. reads matvá tatrátigarjitam iti sinham, thinking that he was outroared there, however, the word sinham must be changed if this reading is to be adopted. [31] I prefer the reading kas of the Sanskrit College MS., and would render, "Whom can the king make his equal? Fortune does not proceed in that way." [32] I read dosham for dosho with the Sanskrit College MS. [33] Cp. the ninth in Benfey's translation, Vol. II, p. 71. Cp. also Kalilah and Dimnah, (Wolff. I, 59, Knatchbull, 126), Symeon Seth, p. 22, John of Capua d, 1, b, German translation (Ulm, 1483) E., V., a, Spanish translation, XVI a, Firenzuola, 49, Doni, 75, (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 223). [34] Cp. Johnson's translation of the Hitopadesa, Fable XI, p. 110. Benfey compares Kalilah and Dimnah (Wolff. 1, 78, Knatchbull 138), John of Capua, d., 3, Symeon Seth, p. 25, German translation (Ulm 1483) F. 1, 6, Spanish translation, XVII, 6 and ff, Firenzuola, 57, Doni 54, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 153, Livre des Lumières, 118, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 294, (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 230.) Cp. also Sagas from the Far East, Tale XIX. In sl. 145, I read vairaktyam; see Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. vairatya. [35] I adopted this translation of desajna, in deference to the opinion of a good native scholar, but might not the word mean simply "knowing countries?" The crow then would be a kind of feathered Ulysses, cp. Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 255. The fable may remind some readers of the following lines in Spenser's Mother Hubberd's Tale. He shortly met the Tygre and the Bore That with the simple Camell raged sore In bitter words, seeking to take occasion Upon his fleshly corpse to make invasion. [36] Benfey (Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 231) quotes the following passage from John of Capua's version, "Dicitur autem, melior omnium regum est qui aquilæ similatur in cujus circuitu sunt cadavera, pejor vero omnium est qui similatur cadaveri in cujus circuitu sunt aquilæ." It is wanting in De Sacy's edition of the Arabic version, and in the old Greek translation. This looks as if the Hebrew version, from which John of Capua translates, was the best representation of the original Indian work. [37] This corresponds to the 2nd Fable in the IVth book of the Hitopadesa, Johnson's translation, page 99. Benfey considers that the fable of Æsop, which we find in Babrius, 115, is the oldest form of it. He supposes that it owes its present colouring to the Buddhists. It appears in the Arabic version (Wolff. I, 91, Knatchbull, 146), Symeon Seth, p. 28, John of Capua d., 5, b., German translation (Ulm., 1483) F., VIII, 6, Spanish translation, XIX a, Firenzuola, 65, Doni 93, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 159, Livre des Lumières, 124, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 309. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, pp. 239, 240). See also Weber, Indische Studien, III, 339. This story is found in the Avadánas translated from the Chinese by Stanislas Julien No. XIV, Vol. I, pp. 71-73, (Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 111.) It is the 3rd in La Fontaine's tenth book. The original source is probably the Kachchhapa Játaka; see Rhys Davids' Introduction to his Buddhist Birth stories, p. viii. In Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, p. 15, the heron, which is carrying the fox, persuades it to let go, in order that she may spit on her hand. (A similar incident on page 112 of this volume.) Gosson in his School of Abuse, Arber's Reprints, p. 43, observes, "Geese are foolish birds, yet, when they fly over mount Taurus, they shew great wisdom in their own defence for they stop their pipes full of gravel to avoid gagling, and so by silence escape the eagles." [38] i. e., the provider for the future, the fish that possessed presence of mind, and the fatalist, who believed in kismat. This story is found in the Hitopadesa, Book IV, Fable 11, Johnson's translation. Benfey has discovered it in the Mahábhárata, XII, (III, 538) v. 4889, and ff. He compares Wolff., I, 54, Knatchbull, 121, Symeon Seth, p. 20, John of Capua, c., 6, b., German translation (Ulm., 1483), E. III, a., Spanish, XV, b, Firenzuola, 47, Doni, 73, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 130, Livre des Lumières, 105, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 250. (Benfey, Vol. I, pp. 241 and 242) [39] For the story of the pair of tittibha birds, cp. Hitopadesa, Book II, fable X, Johnson's translation, p. 65. Benfey compares Wolff, I, 84, Knatchbull 145, Symeon Seth, 28, John of Capua d., 5, a., German translation (Ulm 1483) F., VII, a., Spanish, XIX, a., Firenzuola, 63, Doni, 92, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 158, Livre des Lumières, 123, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 307, (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 235) Benfey adduces evidence in favour of its Buddhistic origin. [40] The following story is the 17th in the 1st Book of the Panchatantra, Benfey's translation. He compares the Arabic version (Wolff, I, 91, Knatchbull, 150,) Symeon Seth, 31, John of Capua e., 1., German translation (Ulm 1483) G., IV., Spanish translation, XX, a., Firenzuola, 70, Doni, 98, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 170; Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 329. Symeon Seth has for the firefly lithon stilbonta: the Turkish version in the Cabinet des Fées "Un morceau de crystal qui brillait." (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, pp. 269, 270). [41] Benfey compares the Arabic version, (Wolff, I, 93, Knatchbull, 151,) Symeon Seth, 31, John of Capua, o., 2., German translation (Ulm 1483) G., VI, b., Spanish, XXI, a., Firenzuola, 73, Doni, 104, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 172, Livre des Lumières, 129, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 333, Baldo, Fab. XIX, in Edéléstand du Méril. Benfey points out that that Somadeva agrees wholly or partly with the Arabic version in two points. The judges set the tree on fire (or apply smoke to it,) not Dharmabuddhi, (as in Panchatantra, Benfey, Vol. II, pp. 114 & ff.) Secondly, in the Panchatantra the father dies and the son is hanged, in De Sacy's Arabic and the old Greek version both remain alive, in Somadeva, and John of Capua, and the Anvár-i-Suhaili, the father dies and the son is punished. Here we have a fresh proof that the Hebrew version, from which John of Capua translated, is the truest representative of the oldest Arabic recension. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 275 and ff.) This story has been found in Tibet by the Head Master of the Bhútia School, Darjiling, Babu Sarat Chandra Dás. [42] I read with the Sanskrit College MS. asadvyayi. [43] i. e., "Virtuously-minded." His brother's name means--"Evil-minded." [44] Cp. Hitopadesa, Johnson's translation, Fable, VIII, p. 60. Benfey appears not to be aware that this story is in Somadeva. It corresponds to the sixth in his 1st Book, Vol. II, p. 67. He thinks that Somadeva must have rejected it though it was in his copy. Benfey says it is of Buddhistic origin. It is found in the Arabic version (Wolff, p. 40, Knatchbull, p. 113), Symeon Seth, (Athenian edition, p. 16), John of Capua, e., 4, a., German translation, Ulm, 1483 D., IV. b., Spanish, XIII, 6, Firenzuola, 38, Doni, 57, Anvár-i-Suhaili, p. 116, Livre des Lumières, 91, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 220. It is connected with the 20th of the 1st book in Benfey's translation, in fact it is another form of it. (Somadeva's fable seems to be a blending of the two Panchatantra stories). Cp. also Phædrus, I, 28, Aristophanes, Aves, 652. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I. pp. 167-170.) [45] This corresponds to the 21st of the first book in Benfey's translation, Vol. II, p. 120. Cp. Arabic version (Wolff, I, 98, Knatchbull, 156.), Symeon Seth, 33, John of Capua, e., 4, German translation (Ulm, 1483) H., II, b., Firenzuola, 82, Doni, 113, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 187, Livre des Lumières, 135, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 353, Robert, Fables inédites, II, 193-196. (Benfey, I, 283). It is the 1st of the IXth Book of La Fontaine's Fables, Le depositaire infidèle. This is the 218th Játaka. A gámavásí deposits ploughshares with a nagaravásí who sells them and buys músikavaccam. "Phálá te músike hi kháditá ti músikavaccam dassesi." The rest much as in our tale. A kulalo is said to have carried off the son. (Fausböll, Vol. II, p 181.) If Plutarch is to be believed, the improbability of the merchant's son's story is not so very striking, for he tells us, in his life of Marcellus, that rats and mice gnawed the gold in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. [46] The argument reminds one of that in "Die kluge Bauerntochter," (Grimm's Märchen, 94). The king adjudges a foal to the proprietor of some oxen, because it was found with his beasts. The real owner fishes in the road with a net. The king demands an explanation. He says, "It is just as easy for me to catch fish on dry land, as for two oxen to produce a foal." See also Das Märchen vom sprechenden Bauche, Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, pp. 83, 84. [47] This is No. 84 in Stanislas Julien's translation of the Avadánas. [48] This is No. 67 in Stanislas Julien's translation of the Avadánas. This story is found in Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, p. 112. So Ino persuaded the women of the country to roast the wheat before it was sown, Preller Griechische Mythologie, Vol. II, p. 312. To this Ovid refers, Fasti, II, 628, and III, 853-54. [49] This is No. 70 in Stanislas Julien's translation of the Avadánas. [50] Cp. The Two Noble Kinsmen, Act IV, Scene 2, 1. 110, His nose stands high, a character of honour. [51] This is No. 57 in Stanislas Julien's translation of the Avadánas. [52] This is No. 71 in the Avadánas. [53] The MS. in the Sanskrit College reads rájakuládishtakharjúránayanam. This is No. 45 in the Avadánas translated by Stanislas Julien. [54] The reading of the Sanskrit College MS. is ádritánoparenate, but probably the reading is ádritá no, panena te they were not honoured but on the contrary punished with a fine. [55] I think tad should be tam. The story is No. 58 in the Avadánas. [56] The Sanskrit College MS. reads gahvaragrámavásí, but below sa gahvarah. This story is No. 38 in the Avadánas. [57] This story is No. 98 in the Avadánas. [58] Benfey shews that this introduction is probably of Buddhistic origin. He quotes from Upham's Sacred and Historical books of Ceylon a story about some snipe, which escape in the same way, but owing to disunion are afterwards caught again. Cp. also Mahábhárata, V (II, 180) v. 2455 and ff., also Baldo Fab. X, in Edéléstand du Méril, Poésies Inédites, pp. 229, 230, La Fontaine, XII, 15. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 304, and ff.) See the first book of the Hitopadesa, (page 3, Johnson's translation) and the 2nd book of the Panchatantra (page 176, Benfey's translation). It is to be found in Rhys Davids' translation of the Játakas, which has just reached India, pp. 296-298. [59] Cp. Wolff, I, 159, Knatchbull, 201, Symeon Seth, 47, John of Capua, g., 3, b., German translation (Ulm, 1483) M., IV, b., Spanish translation, XXXI, b., Doni, 18, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 273, Livre des Lumières, 211, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 410, Hitopadesa (Johnson) Fable V, p. 22. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 316.) [60] For jata we must read játa. Cp. for the power given by a treasure the 18th chapter of this work, see also Benfey, Vol. I, p. 320. [61] The Sanskrit College MS. has ullambya, having hung it upon a peg. [62] Cp. Wolff, I, 160, Knatchbull, 202, Symeon Seth, 48, John of Capua, g., 6, German translation (Ulm) M., IV, b., Anvár-i-Suhaili, 275, Livre des Lumières, 214, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 412. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 318.) [63] Cp. Hitopadesa, Fable VII, p. 30. Benfey compares Wolff, I, 162, Knatchbull, 203, Symeon Seth, 48, John of Capua, g., 6, German translation (Ulm, 1483) M., V, Spanish translation, XXXII, a, Doni, p. 20, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 275, Livre des Lumières, 216, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 413, Camerarius, Fab. Æsop., 388, Lafontaine, VIII, 27, Lancereau, French translation of the Hitopadesa, 222, Robert, Fables Inédites, II, 191. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 320). Cp. also Sagas from the Far East, p. 189. [64] Perhaps we should read--sáyake. [65] Here Somadeva departs from the Panchatantra, (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 318.) [66] As he does the lion in Babrius, 107. [67] Benfey compares Grimm R. F. CCLXXXIV, Renart, br. 25, Grimm Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 58, (III, 100) Keller, Romans des sept Sages, CLII, Dyocletian, Einleitung, 48, Conde Lucanor, XLIII. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 333). See also Lafontaine's Fables, XII, 15. This is perhaps the story which General Cunningham found represented on a bas-relief of the Bharhut Stúpa. (See General Cunningham's Stúpa of Bharhut, p. 67.) The origin of the story is no doubt the Birth-story of "The Cunning Deer," Rhys Davids' translation of the Játakas, pp. 221-223. The Kurunga Miga Játaka, No. 206 in Fausböll Vol. II, p. 152 is a still better parallel. In this the tortoise gnaws through the bonds, the crane (satapatto) smites the hunter on the mouth as he is leaving his house; he twice returns to it on account of the evil omen; and when the tortoise is put in a bag, the deer leads the hunter far into the forest, returns with the speed of the wind, upsets the bag, and tears it open. [68] Benfey compares with this the fifth story in the 4th book of his Panchatantra, Wie eine Frau liebe belohnt. But the very story is found in Taranga 65, which was not published when Benfey wrote his book. For parallel stories see Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 39 and ff. where he is treating of a tale in the Nugæ Curialium of Gualterus Mapes. The woman behaves like Erippe in a story related by Parthenius (VIII). In the heading of the tale we are told that Aristodemus of Nysa tells the same tale with different names. [69] The Sanskrit College MS. reads pallím for patním. [70] Nága in the original--a fabulous serpent demon with a human face. Cp. Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 65. "He flies as a fiery snake into his mistress's bower, stamps with his foot on the ground and becomes a youthful gallant." [71] Cp. Arrian's Indika, chapter xvii, McCrindle's translation. [72] This story corresponds to No. XLIII, in the Avadánas. [73] This to a certain extent resembles the 129th story in the Gesta Romanorum, "Of Real Friendship." Douce says that the story is in Alphonsus. A story more closely resembling the story in the Gesta is current in Bengal, with this difference, that a goat does duty for the pig of the Gesta. A son tells his father he has three friends, the father says that he has only half a friend. Of course the half friend turns out worth all the three put together. The Bengali story was told me by Pandit Syámá Charan Mukhopádhyáya. See also Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 291, and note 371. See also Herrtage's English Gesta, p. 127, Tale 33. [74] A perpetually recurring pun! The word can either mean "oiliness" or "affection." [75] Cp. what Sganarelle says in Le Mariage Forcé: "La raison. C'est que je ne me sens point propre pour le mariage, et que je veux imiter mon père et tous ceux de ma race, qui ne se sont jamais voulu marier." [76] This story bears a certain resemblance to the European stories of grammarians who undertake to educate asses or monkeys. (See Lévêque, Les Mythes et Légendes de l'Inde et de la Perse, p. 320.) La Fontaine's Charlatan is perhaps the best known. This story is found in Prym und Socin's Syrische Märchen, p. 292, where a man undertakes to teach a camel to read. [77] This story is No. LI in the Avadánas. [78] See Felix Liebrecht, Orient und Occident, Vol. I, p. 135 on the Avadánas translated from the Chinese by Stanislas Julien, Paris, 1859 where this story is found (No. LXIX.) He compares a story of an Irishman who was hired by a Yarmouth Malster to assist in loading his ship. As the vessel was about to set sail, the Irishman cried out from the quay. "Captain, I lost your shovel overboard, but I cut a big notch on the rail-fence, round stern, just where it went down, so you will find it when you come back." Vol. II, p. 544, note. Liebrecht thinks he has read something similar in the Asteia of Hierokles. See also Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 349. [79] See Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, pp. 119 and 120, also Benfey's Panchatantra. Vol. I, p. 391, Nachträge II, 543. This is No. CIII. in the Avadánas. [80] This is No. XLIX in the Avadánas. [81] This is No. XXXVII in the Avadánas. [82] In the original the husband is called a "vessel of alms," i. e., "receiver of alms," but the pun cannot be retained in the translation without producing obscurity. [83] See Benfey's Panchatantra, IIIrd book, page 213, Vol. II. Benfey points out that in the Mahábhárata, Drona's son, one of the few Kauravas that had survived the battle, was lying under a sacred fig-tree, on which crows were sleeping. Then he sees one owl come and kill many of the crows. This suggests to him the idea of attacking the camp of the Pándavas. In the Arabic text the hostile birds are ravens and owls. So in the Greek and the Hebrew translation. John of Capua has "sturni," misunderstanding the Hebrew. (Benfey, Vol. I, 335). Rhys Davids states in his Buddhist Birth Stories (p. 292 note,) that the story of the lasting feud between the crows and the owls is told at length in Játaka, No. 270. [84] For Pradívin the Petersburg lexicographers would read Prajívin, as in the Panchatantra. [85] Benfey remarks that this fable was known to Plato; Cratylus, 411, A, (but the passage might refer to some story of Bacchus personating Hercules, as in the Ranæ,) and he concludes that the fable came from Greece to India. He compares Æsop, (Furia, 141, Coraes, 113,) Lucianus, Piscator, 32, Erasmus, "Asinus apud Cumanos," Robert, Fables Inédites, I, 360. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 463.) I cannot find the fable in Phædrus or Babrius. The skin is that of a tiger in Benfey's translation, and also in Johnson's translation of the Hitopadesa, p. 74 in the original (Johnson's edition). See also Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 119. It is No. 189 in Fausböll's edition of the Játakas, and will be found translated in Rhys Davids' Introduction to his Buddhist Birth Stories, p. v. [86] Benfey compares Grimm's Märchen, Vol. III, 246, where parallels to story No. 171 are given; Thousand and one Nights (Weil, III, 923). In a fable of Æsop's the birds choose a peacock king. (Æsop, Furia, 183, Coraes, 53). (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 347.) See also Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 110, Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, p. 424, De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 206. See also p. 246 for an apologue in which the owl prevents the crow's being made king. See also Rhys Davids' Buddhist Birth Stories, p. 292. See also Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. III, pp. 196, 197. The story of the crow dissuading the birds from making the owl king is Játaka, No. 270. In the Kosiya Játaka, No. 226, an army of crows attacks an owl. [87] Cp. Hitopadesa, 75, Wolff, I, 192; Knatchbull, 223, Symeon Seth, 58, John of Capua, h., 5, b., German translation (Ulm 1483) O., II, Spanish translation, XXXVI, a.; Doni, 36, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 315, Livre des Lumières, 246; Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 437. This fable is evidently of Indian origin. For the deceiving of the elephant with the reflexion of the moon, Benfey compares Disciplina Clericalis XXIV. (Benfey, Vol. I, pp. 348, 349.) See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 76. [88] i. e. moon-lake. [89] Common epithets of the moon. The Hindus find a hare in the moon where we find a "man, his dog, and his bush." [90] This story is found in Wolff, I, 197, Knatchbull, 226, Symeon Seth, 60, John of Capua, h., 6, b, German translation (Ulm 1483) O., IV, 6, Spanish translation, 36, b, Doni, 38, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 322, Livre des Lumières, 251, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 442, Baldo Fab. XX, in Edéléstand du Méril, Poesies Inédites, p. 249. Benfey finds three "moments" in the Fable; the first is, the "hypocritical cat"; this conception he considers to be "allgemein menschlich" and compares Furia, 14, Coraes, 152, Furia, 15, Coraes, 6, Furia, 67, Coraes, 28, Robert, Fables Inédites, I, 216; also Mahábhárata V. (II, 283) 5421 and ff., where the cat manages to get herself taken to the river, to die, by the rats and mice, and there eats them. The second moment is the folly of litigiousness: here he compares a passage in Dubois's Panchatantra. The third is the object of contention, the nest, for which he compares Phædrus, I, 21. (Benfey, Vol. I, pp. 350-354). I should compare, for the 1st moment, Phædrus, Lib. II, Fabula, IV, (recognovit Lucianus Mueller) Aquila, Feles et Aper, La Fontaine, VII, 16. See also for the "hypocritical cat" Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 121. The cat's tactics are much the same as those of the fox in Reineke Fuchs (Simrock, Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. I, p. 138.) See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 54. The story is No. CXXV in the Avadánas. From De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, pp. 227-228 it appears that kapinjala means a heath-cock, or a cuckoo. Here the word appears to be used as a proper name. There is a very hypocritical cat in Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. lx. See especially p. 242, and cp. p. 319. [91] This is the 3rd story in Benfey's translation of the third book of the Panchatantra. See Johnson's translation of the Hitopadesa, p. 110. Wolff, I. 205, Knatchbull, 233. Symeon Seth, 62, John of Capua, i., 1, b., German translation O., VI, 6, Spanish, XXXVII, a., Doni, 42, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 331, Livre des Lumières, 254, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 444. Benfey translates a reference to it in Pánini. He shews that there is an imitation of this story in the Gesta Romanorum, 132. In Forlini, Novel VIII, a peasant is persuaded that his kids are capons. Cp. also Straparola, I, 3; Loiseleur Deslongchamps, Essai, 47, 2. Liebrecht's translation of Dunlop, note 356, Lancereau on the Hitopadesa, 252. (Benfey, Vol. I, pp. 355-357.) See also Till Eulenspiegel, c. 66, in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. X, p. 452. In the XXth tale of the English Gesta Romanorum (Ed. Herrtage) three "lechis" persuade Averoys that he is a "lepre;" and he becomes one from "drede," but is cured by a bath of goat's blood. The 69th tale in Coelho's Contos Populares, Os Dois Mentíroses, bears a strong resemblance to this. One brother confirms the other's lies. [92] Benfey compares this with the story of Zopyrus. He thinks that the Indians learned the story from the Greeks. See also Avadánas. No. V, Vol. I, p. 31. [93] Benfey compares Wolff, I, 210, Knatchbull, 237, Symeon Seth, p. 64, John of Capua i., 2, German translation (Ulm., 1483) No. VIII, 6, Spanish translation, XXXVIII, a., Doni, 44, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 336, Livre des Lumières, 259, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 449. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 366.) See also La Fontaine, IX, p. 15. [94] Dr. Kern suggests vyatíta-pushpa-kálatvád. The Sanskrit College MS. has the reading of Dr. Brockhaus's text. [95] Cp. Wolff, I, 212, Knatchbull, 238, Symeon Seth, p. 64, John of Capua i., 2, b., German translation (Ulm, 1483) P., I, b., Spanish translation, XXXVIII, a., Doni, 45, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 338, Livre des Lumières, 261, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 451. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 368.) [96] See Chapter VII of this work. [97] Benfey compares the Arabic version, Wolff, I, 214, Knatchbull, 240, Symeon Seth, 65, John of Capua i., 3, b., German translation (Ulm, 1483), P., II. b., Spanish translation, XXXVIII, b., Doni, 47, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 340, Livre des Lumières, 264; Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 453, cp. also Hitopadesa, (Johnson's translation, p. 78). (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 371.) [98] This story is found in the Arabic version, Wolff, I, 219, Knatchbull, 243, Symeon Seth, 68, John of Capua, i., 4, b., German translation (Ulm, 1483) P. IV, b., Spanish translation, XXXIX, a., Doni, 50, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 355, Livre des Lumières, 279, Cabinet des Fées, XVII, 466, La Fontaine, IX, 7, Polier, Mythologie des Indes, II, 571, Hitopadesa, (similar in some respects) Johnson, p. 108, Mahábhárata, XII, (III, 515) v. 4254 and ff. Benfey compares also the story of the cat which was changed into a virgin, Babrius, 32. It is said to be found in Strattis (400 B. C.) (Benfey, Vol. I, pp. 373 and ff.) See also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 65. This bears a strong resemblance to A Formiga e a Neve, No. II, in Coelho's Contos Portuguezes. [99] This reminds one of Babrius, Fabula LXXII. [100] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads bhajámi not bhanjámi. [101] See Liebrecht's notes on the Avadánas, translated by Stanislas Julien, on page 110 of his "Zur Volkskunde." He adduces an English popular superstition. "The country people to their sorrow know the Cornish chough, called Pyrrhocorax, to be not only a thief, but an incendiary, and privately to set houses on fire as well as rob them of what they find profitable. It is very apt to catch up lighted sticks, so there are instances of houses being set on fire by its means." So a parrot sets a house on fire in a story by Arnauld of Carcassès (Liebrecht's translation of Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 203.) Benfey thinks that this idea originally came from Greece (Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 383.) Cp. also Pliny's account of the "incendiaria avis in Kuhn's Herabkunft des Feuers, p. 31. [102] This story is found in Wolff, I, 226, Knatchbull, 250, Symeon Seth, 70, John of Capua, i., 6, German translation (Ulm, 1483) Q. I, Spanish translation, XL, b., Anvár-i-Suhaili, 364, Livre des Lumières, 283, Cabinet des Fées, XIII, 467, Hitopadesa, Johnson's translation, p. 112. Benfey compares the western fable of the sick lion. This fable is told in the Kathá Sarit Ságara, X, 63, sl. 126, and ff., and will be found further on. (Benfey, Vol. I, p. 384.) [103] This is No. XVII in the Avadánas. Cp. Grohmann, Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 35. [104] i. e. sweet, salt, acid, astringent, bitter, and pungent. [105] This is No. XLVI in the Avadánas. [106] Naukaha should be no doubt 'anokaha on Dr. Brockhaus's system. [107] This is No. CIV in the Avadánas. [108] This is No. LXVI in the Avadánas. [109] Cp. the 37th story in Sicilianische Märchen, part I. p. 249. Giufá's mother wished to go to the mass and she said to him "Giufá, if you go out, draw the door to after you." (Ziehe die Thür hinter dir zu.) Instead of shutting the door, Giufá took it off its hinges and carried it to his mother in the church. See Dr. Köhler's notes on the story. [110] For the superstition of water-spirits see Tylor's Primitive Culture, p. 191, and ff. [111] Does this throw any light upon the expression in Swift's Polite Conversation, "She is as like her husband as if she were spit out of his mouth." (Liebrecht, Volkskunde, p. 495.) [112] The fact of this incident being found in the Arabian Nights is mentioned by Wilson (Collected Works, Vol. IV, p. 146.) See Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. I, p. 9. Lévêque (Les Mythes et les Légendes de l' Inde et de la Perse, p. 543) shews that Ariosto borrowed from the Arabian Nights. [113] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads rakshatyubhayalokatah. [114] This is the beginning of the fourth book of the Panchatantra. Benfey does not seem to have been aware that it was to be found in Somadeva's work. It is also found, with the substitution of a boar for the porpoise, in the Sindibad-namah and thence found its way into the Seven Wise Masters, and other European collections. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 420.) See also Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, pp. 122, 123. For the version of the Seven Wise Masters see Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XII, p. 139. It is also found in the Mahávastu Avadána, p. 138 of the Buddhist Literature of Nepal by Dr. Rajendra Lál Mitra, Rai Bahadúr. (I have been favoured with a sight of this work, while it is passing through the press.) The wife of the kumbhíla in the Varanindajátaka (57 in Fausböll's edition) has a longing for a monkey's heart. The original is, no doubt, the Sumsumára Játaka in Fausböll, Vol. II, p. 158. See also Mélusine, p. 179, where the story is quoted from Thorburn's Bannu or our Afghan Frontier. [115] The Sanskrit College MS. reads cákshipan where Brockhaus reads ca kshipan. [116] In Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, No. 5, the Lamnissa pretends that she is ill and can only be cured by eating a gold fish into which a bone of her rival had been turned. Perhaps we ought to read sádyá for sádhyá in sl. 108. [117] For stories of external hearts see Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, pp. 109-115, and the notes to Miss Stokes's XIth Tale. [118] Benfey does not seem to have been aware of the existence of this story in Somadeva's work. It is found in the Sanskrit texts of the Panchatantra (being the 2nd of the fourth book in Benfey's translation) in the Arabic version, (Knatchbull, 264, Wolff I, 242,) Symeon Seth, 75, John of Capua, k., 2, b., German translation (Ulm 1483) Q., VII, Spanish translation, XLIV, a, Doni, 61, Anvár-i-Suhaili, 393, Cabinet des Fées, XVIII, 26; Baldo fab. XIII, in Edéléstand du Méril, p. 333; Benfey considers it to be founded on Babrius, 95. There the fox only eats the heart. Indeed there is no point in the remark that if he had ears he would not have come again. The animal is a stag in Babrius. It is deceived by an appeal to its ambition. In the Gesta Romanorum the animal is a boar, which returns to the garden of Trajan, after losing successively its two ears and tail. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 430 and ff.) See also Weber's article in Indische Studien, Vol. III, p. 338. He considers that the fable came to India from Greece. Cp. also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, p. 377. An ass is deceived in the same way in Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 279. In Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 92, one of the boys proposes to say that the Glücksvogel had no heart. Rutherford in the Introduction to his edition of Babrius, p. xxvii, considers that the fable is alluded to by Solon in the following words: hymeôs d' heis men hekastos alôpekos ichnesi bainei sympasin d' hymin chouros enesti noos· es gar glôssan horate kai eis epos aiolon andros, eis ergon d' ouden gignomenon blepete. But all turns upon the interpretation of the first line, which Schneidewin renders "Singuli sapitis, cuncti desipitis." [119] I have followed the Sanskrit College MS. in reading nirbádhasukham. [120] For parallels to this story compare Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 33, where he treats of the Avadánas, and the Japanese story in the Nachträge. In this a gentleman who had much enjoyed the smell of fried eels, pays for them by exhibiting his money to the owner of the cook-shop. See also p 112 of the same work. M. Lévêque shews that Rabelais' story of Le Facquin et le Rostisseur exactly resembles this as told in the Avadánas. He thinks that La Fontaine in his fable of L'Huître et les Plaideurs is indebted to the story as told in Rabelais: (Les Mythes et les Légendes de l'Inde, pp. 547, 548.) A similar idea is found in the Hermotimus of Lucian, chapters 80 and 81. A philosopher is indignant with his pupil on account of his fees being eleven days in arrear. The uncle of the young man, who is standing by, being a rude and uncultured person, says to the philosopher--"My good man, pray let us hear no more complaints about the great injustice with which you conceive yourself to have been treated, for all it amounts to is, that we have bought words from you, and have up to the present time paid you in the same coin." See also Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 370 (note). Gosson in his School of Abuse, Arber's Reprint, pp. 68-69, tells the story of Dionysius. [121] There is a certain resemblance between this story and a joke in Philogelos, p. 16. (Ed. Eberhard, Berlin, 1869.) Scholasticus tells his boots not to creak, or he will break their legs. [122] This corresponds to the 14th story in the 5th book of the Panchatantra, Benfey, Vol. II, p. 360. At any rate the leading idea is the same. See Benfey, Vol. I, p. 537. It has a certain resemblance to the fable of Menenius. There is a snake in Bengal with a knob at the end of his tail. Probably this gave rise to the legend of the double-headed serpent. Sir Thomas Browne devotes to the Amphisbæna Chapter XV of the third book of his Vulgar Errors, and craves leave to "doubt of this double-headed serpent," until he has "the advantage to behold, or iterated ocular testimony." See also Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 120, where he treats of the Avadánas. The story is identical with that in our text. M. Lévêque shews that this story, as found in the Avadánas, forms the basis of one of La Fontaine's fables, VII, 17. La Fontaine took it from Plutarch's life of Agis. [123] This story is No. LIX in Sir G. Cornewall Lewis's edition of the Fables of Babrius, Part II. The only difference is that the tail, when in difficulties, entreats the head to deliver it. [124] I read hanum, the conjecture of Dr. Kern. [125] This story appears to have been known to Lucian. In his Demonax (28) he compares two unskilful disputants to a couple, one of whom is milking a goat, the other holding a sieve. So Aristophanes speaks of onou pokai and ornithôn gala. It must be admitted that some critics doubt Lucian's authorship of the Demonax. Professor Aufrecht in his Beiträge zur Kenntniss Indischer Dichter quotes a Strophe of Amarasinha in which the following line occurs, Dugdhá seyam achetanena jaratí dugdhásayát súkarí. Professor Aufrecht proposes to read gardabhí for súkarí. [126] Benfey does not appear to have been aware that this story was to be found in Somadeva's work. It is found in his Panchatantra, Vol. II, p. 326. He refers to Wolff, II, 1; Knatchbull, 268; Symeon Seth, 76; John of Capua, k., 4; German translation, (Ulm, 1483) R., 2; Spanish translation, XLV. a; Doni, 66; Anvár-i-Suhaili, 404; Cabinet des Fées, XVIII, 22; Baldo fab. XVI, (in Edéléstand du Méril p. 240). Hitopadesa, IV, 13, (Johnson's translation, page 116.) In Sandabar and Syntipas the animal is a dog. It appears that the word dog was also used in the Hebrew translation. John of Capua has canis for ichneumon in another passage, so perhaps he has it here. Benfey traces the story in Calumnia Novercalis C., 1; Historia Septem Sapientum, Bl. n.; Romans des Sept Sages, 1139; Dyocletian, Einleitung, 1212; Grässe, Gesta Romanorum II, 176; Keller, Romans, CLXXVIII; Le Grand d' Aussy, 1779, II, 303; Grimm's Märchen, 48. (Benfey, Vol. I, pp. 479-483.) To Englishmen the story suggests Llewellyn's faithful hound Gelert, from which the parish of Bethgelert in North Wales is named. This legend has been versified by the Hon'ble William Robert Spencer. It is found in the English Gesta, (see Bohn's Gesta Romanorum, introduction, page xliii. It is No. XXVI, in Herrtage's Edition.) The story (as found in the Seven Wise Masters) is admirably told in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XII, p. 135. See also Baring Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, 1st Series, p. 126. [127] Here, as Wilson remarked, (Collected Works, Vol. IV, p. 149) we have the story of Rhampsinitus, Herodotus, II, 121. Dr. Rost compares Keller, Dyocletianus Leben, p. 55, Keller Li Romans des Sept Sages, p. cxciii, Liebrecht's translation of Dunlop's History of Fiction, pp. 197 and 264. Cp. also Sagas from the Far East, Tale XII; see also Dr. R. Köhler in Orient und Occident, Vol. II, p. 303. He gives many parallels to Campbell's Gaelic Story of "the Shifty lad," No. XVIII, d., Vol. I, p. 331, but is apparently not aware of the striking resemblance between the Gaelic story and that in the text. Whisky does in the Highland story the work of Dhattúra. See also Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations, I, p. 111 and ff. and Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 34. A similar stratagem is described in Grössler's Sagen aus der Grafschaft Mansfeld, p. 219. [128] Of course Karpara is the Sanskrit for pot. In fact the two friends' names might be represented in English by Pitcher and Pott. In modern Hindu funerals boiled rice is given to the dead. So I am informed by my friend Pandit Syámá Charan Mukhopádhyáya, to whom I am indebted for many kind hints. [129] I read áhritendhanah. The Sanskrit College MS. seems to me to give hritendhana. [130] So Frau Claradis in "Die Heimonskinder" advises her husband not to trust her father (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. II, p. 131.) [131] The Sanskrit College MS. has mama for the mayá of Dr. Brockhaus. [132] Mr. Gough has kindly pointed out to me a passage in the Sarvadarsana Sangraha which explains this. The following is Mr. Gough's translation of the passage; "We must consider this teaching as regards the four points of view. These are that (1) Everything is momentary and momentary only: (2) Everything is pain and pain only: (3) Everything is individual and individual only: (4) Everything is baseless and baseless only." [133] This story is identical with the 5th in the 4th book of the Panchatantra in Benfey's translation, which he considers Buddhistic, and with which he compares the story of the Bhilla in chapter 61 of this work. He compares the story of Dhúminí in the Dasakumára Charita, page 150, Wilson's edition, which resembles this story more nearly even than the form in the Panchatantra. Also a story in Ardschi Bordschi, translated by himself in Ausland 1858, No. 36, pages 845, 846. (It will be found on page 305 of Sagas from the Far East.) He quotes a saying of Buddha from Spence Hardy's Eastern Monachism, page 166, cp. Köppen, Religion des Buddha, p. 374. This story is also found in the Forty Vazírs, a collection of Persian tales, (Behrnauer's translation, Leipzig, 1851, page 325.) It is also found in the Gesta Romanorum, c. 56. (But the resemblance is not very striking.) Cp. also Grimm's Kinder- und Hausmärchen, No. 16. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, pp. 436 and ff.) This story is simply the Cullapadumajátaka, No. 193 in Fausböll's edition. See also Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction, pp. lxi-lxiii. [134] In La Fontaine's Fables X, 14, a man gains a kingdom by carrying an elephant. [135] In the story of Satyamanjarí, a tale extracted by Professor Nilmani Mookerjee from the Kathá Kosa, a collection of Jaina stories, the heroine carries her leprous husband on her back. [136] This story is found, with the substitution of a man for a woman, on p. 128 of Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. 11; he tells us that it is also found in the 17th chapter of Silvestre de Sacy's Kalila o Dimna (Wolff's Translation II, 99; Knatchbull, 346,) in the 11th section of Symeon Seth's Greek version, 14th chapter of John of Capua; German translation Ulm, 1483 Y., 5; Anvár-i-Suhaili, p. 596 Cabinet des Fées, XVIII, 189. It is imitated by Baldo, 18th fable, (Poesics Inédites du Moyen Age by Edéléstand du Méril, p. 244.) Benfey pronounces it Buddhistic in origin, though apparently not acquainted with its form in the Kathá Sarit Ságara. Cp. Rasaváhini, chap. 3. (Spiegel's Anecdota Paliea). It is also found in the Karma Sataka. Cp. also Matthæus Paris, Hist. Maj. London, 1571, pp. 240-242, where it is told of Richard Coeur de Lion; Gesta Romanorum, c. 119; Gower, Confessio Amantis, Book V; E. Meier Schwäbische Volksmärchen. (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 192 and ff.) Cp. also for the gratitude of the animals the IVth story in Campbell's Tales of the West Highlands. The animals are a dog, an otter and a falcon, p. 74 and ff. The Mongolian form of the story is to be found in Sagas from the Far East, Tale XIII. See also the XIIth and XXIInd of Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales. There is a striking illustration of the gratitude of animals in Grimm's No. 62, and in Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 483. De Gubernatis in a note to p. 129 of Vol. II, of his Zoological Mythology, mentions a story of grateful animals in Afanassief. The hero finds some wolves fighting for a bone, some bees fighting for honey, and some shrimps fighting for a carcase; he makes a just division, and the grateful wolves, bees, and shrimps help him in need. See also p. 157 of the same volume. No. 25 in the Pentamerone of Basile belongs to the same cycle. See Die dankbaren Thiere in Gaal's Märchen der Magyaren, p. 175, and Der Rothe Hund, p. 339. In the Saccamkirajatátaka No. 73, Fausböll, Vol. I, 323, a hermit saves a prince, a rat, a parrot and a snake. The rat and snake are willing to give treasures, the parrot rice, but the prince orders his benefactor's execution, and is then killed by his own subjects. See Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 3, note. See also Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction, pp. lxiii-lxv. [137] In Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, a tiger, who has killed the son of an old woman, feeds her henceforth, and appears as a mourner at her funeral. The story in the text bears a faint resemblance to that of Androclus, (Aulus Gellius. V, 14). See also Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 111, with the note at the end of the Volume. [138] Cp. Gijjhajátaka, Fausböll, Vol. II, p. 51. [139] Cp. the 46th story in Sicilianische Märchen gesammelt von Laura von Gonzenbach, where a snake coils round the throat of a king, and will not let him go, till he promises to marry a girl, whom he had violated. See also Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 523. [140] The Petersburg lexicographers explain takka as Geizhals, Filz; but say that the word thaka in Marathi means a rogue, cheat. The word kadarya also means niggardly, miserly. General Cunningham (Ancient Geography of India, p. 152) says that the Takkas were once the undisputed lords of the Panjáb, and still subsist as a numerous agricultural race in the lower hills between the Jhelum and the Rávi. [141] So in the Russian story of "The Miser," (Ralston's Russian Folk-tales, p. 47.) Marko the Rich says to his wife, in order to avoid the payment of a copeck; "Harkye wife! I'll strip myself naked, and lie down under the holy pictures. Cover me up with a cloth, and sit down and cry, just as you would over a corpse. When the moujik comes for his money, tell him I died this morning." Ralston conjectures that the story came originally from the East. [142] This resembles the conclusion of the story of the turtle Kambugríva and the swans Vikata and Sankata, Book X, chap. 60, sl. 169, see also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 292. A similar story is told in Bartsch's Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. I, p. 349, of the people of Teterow. They adopted the same manoeuvre to get a stone out of a well. The man at the top then let go, in order to spit on his hands. [143] I follow Dr. Kern's conjecture avikritânanâ. [144] In the Sicilianische Märchen, No. 14, a prince throws a stone at an old woman's pitcher and breaks it. She exclaims in her anger, "May you wander through the world until you find the beautiful Nzentola!" Nos. 12 and 13 begin in a similar way. A parallel will be found in Dr. Köhler's notes to No. 12. He compares the commencement of the Pentamerone of Basile. [145] Cp. the Yaksha to whom Phalabhúti prays in Ch. XX. The belief in tree-spirits is shewn by Tylor in his Primitive Culture to exist in many parts of the world. (See the Index in his second volume.) Grimm in his Teutonic Mythology (p. 70 and ff) gives an account of the tree-worship which prevailed amongst the ancient Germans. See also an interesting article by Mr. Wallhouse in the Indian Antiquary for June 1880. [146] The Sanskrit College reads anena for asanena. Dr. Kern wishes to read suhitasyápy asanena kim. This would still leave a superfluity of syllables in the line. [147] This part of the story may be compared with the story of As tres Lebres in Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, p. 90, or that of the Blind Man and the Cripple in Ralston's Russian Folk Tales. [148] In the notice of the first ten fasciculi of this translation which appeared in the Saturday Review for May 1882, the following interesting remark is made on this story: "And the story of the woman, who had eleven husbands, bears a curious but no doubt accidental likeness to an anecdote related by St. Jerome about a contest between a man and his wife as to which would outlive the other, she having previously conducted to the grave scores of husbands and he scores of wives." [149] So in the Novellæ Morlini, No. 4, a merchant, who is deeply involved, gives a large sum of money to the king for the privilege of riding by his side through the town. Henceforth his creditors cease their importunities. (Liebrecht's Dunlop, p. 494.) [150] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads vidyábhih saha samsmritá. [151] An allusion to the custom of choosing a husband in the Svayamvara ceremony, by throwing a garland on the neck of the favoured suitor. [152] Dr. Kern would read ásata. [153] Compare Book III of the novel of Achilles Tatius, c. 5. [154] Cp. Enmathius' novel of Hysminias and Hysmine, Book IX, ch. 4. Epi dê toutois pasin ophthalmos hêlato mou ho dexios, kai ên moi to sêmeion agathon, kai to promanteuma dexiôtaton See also Theocritus III, 37. halletai ophthalmos meu ho dexios· ê rha g' idêsô autan? Where Fritsche quotes Plant. Pseudol. 1.1.105. Brand in his Popular Antiquities, Vol. III, p. 172, quotes the above passage from Theocritus, and a very apposite one from Dr. Nathaniel Home's Demonologie--"If their ears tingle, they say they have some enemies abroad that doe or are about to speake evill of them: so, if their right eye itcheth, then it betokens joyful laughter." Bartsch in his Sagen, Märchen, und Gebraüche aus Mecklenburg, says, "Throbbing in the right eye betokens joy, in the left, tears." In Norway throbbing in the right ear is a good sign, in the left a bad sign (Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 327.) Forcellini s. v. Salisatores quotes from Isidor. VIII, 9. Salisatores vocati sunt, qui dum eis membrorum quæcunque partes salierint, aliquid sibi exinde prosperum, seu triste significare prædicunt. [155] i. e., under the protection of a Buddha. [156] So Malegis in Die Heimonskinder represents that his blind brother will be freed from his affliction when he comes to a place where the horse Bayard is being ridden. (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. II, p. 96.) [157] See note in Vol. I, p. 121. So Balder is said to be so fair of countenance and bright that he shines of himself. (Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, translated by Stallybrass, p. 222.) In Tennyson's Vivien we find "A maid so smooth, so white, so wonderful, They said a light came from her when she moved." [158] This probably means that she was burnt with his corpse. [159] Böhtlingk and Roth read sákinísiddhisamvará. [160] We have had many transformations of this kind and shall have many more. A very amusing story of a transformation is found in Campbell's Highland Tales, Vol. II, p. 60 which may be compared with this. The biter is bit as in our text, and in the story of Sidi Noman in the Arabian Nights, which closely resembles this. [161] I read kritvá for kírtvá. [162] Cp. the story of the Porter and the Ladies of Baghdad in the Arabian Nights. (Lane's translation, Vol. I, page 129.) The bitches are solemnly beaten in the same way as the mare in our story. They are the sisters of the lady who beats them. [163] Professor Cowell informs me that there is a passage in the Sankara Dig Vijaya which explains this. A seer by means of this vidyá gains a life equivalent to 11 years of Brahmá. It seems to be a life-prolonging charm. [164] So "one who dwelt by the castled Rhine" called the flowers, "the stars that in earth's firmament do shine." [165] This story extends to the end of the book. [166] The word tejas also means "courage." [167] An elaborate pun, only intelligible in Sanskrit. [168] Cp. the long black tongue which the horrible black man protrudes in Wirt Sikes's British Goblins, p. 177. In Birlinger's Aus Schwaben, Vol. I, p. 341, the fahrende schüler puts out his tongue in a very uncanny manner. [169] Cp. Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 15, Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, p. 294, and the classical legend of the birth of Adonis. A similar story will be found in Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, p. 306. In Bernhard E. Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, No. 5, three maidens come out of a citron, and one of them again out of a rosebush. For other parallels see the Notes to No. XXI, in Miss Stokes's Indian Fairy Tales. Cp. also Das Rosmarinsträuchlein in Kaden's Unter den Olivenbäumen, (Stories from the South of Italy), p. 10. In the 49th Story of the Pentamerone of Basile a fairy comes out of a citron. The word I have translated "tear" is in the original vírya. See Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 195, and Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction, p. lii. [170] See the story of Polyidos, in Preller, Griechische Mythologie, Vol. II, p. 478. Preller refers to Nonnus, XXV, 451 and ff. The story terminates psychê d' eis demas êlthe to deuteron. See also Baring Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, New Edition, 1869, pp. 399-402, and Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, pp. 112 and 126. [171] Dr. Kern conjectures evam. [172] In Bengal no animal sacrifices are offered to Siva at the present day. [173] Cp. "The Story of the First Royal Mendicant," Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. I, p. 136. [174] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads kesakapáládi; perhaps for kesa we should read vesa. The skulls have been mentioned before. [175] For ásvasto I read visvasto. Perhaps we ought to read asvastho, i. e., sick, ill. [176] The wanderings of Herzog Ernst are brought about in a very similar manner. (See Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. III, p. 278). [177] Compare the myths of Attis and Cyparissus. In the story called "Der rothe Hund," Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 362, the queen becomes a dry mulberry tree. See also Grohmann, Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 116. In Ovid's Metamorphoses, XIV, 517 an abusive pastor is turned into an oleaster. [178] Triphalá according to Professor Monier Williams means the three myrobalans, i. e., the fruits of Terminalia Chebula, T. Bellerica, and Phyllanthus Emblica; also the three fragrant fruits, nutmeg, areca-nut, and cloves; also the three sweet fruits, grape, pomegranate and date. The first interpretation seems to be the one usually accepted by the Pandits of Bengal. [179] i. e., Nága a kind of snake demon. See Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, page 65, Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, pp. 400-409, Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, pp. 100, 101. The sword with a name may remind the reader of Balmung, Excalibur, Durandal &c. [180] The Sanskrit College MS. reads sámpusáraih perhaps for sámbusârasaih i. e., with the water-cranes. [181] Anáyata is a misprint for anáyatta. [182] I read kulamandiram with the MS. in the Sanskrit College. [183] i. e., Máyá. [184] For vanopamám I conjecture vanopamát. [185] i. q., Ganesa. [186] Or "the elephants of his enemies." Here there is probably a pun. [187] Literally, "water-men." Perhaps they were of the same race as Grendel the terrible nicor. See also Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, p. 185 and ff., Grimm's Irische Märchen, p. cv, Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, Vol. II, p. 35, Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 187 and ff., and the 6th and 20th Játakas. See also Grohmann's account of the "Wassermann," Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 148. [188] The MS. in the Sanskrit College seems to me to read púrnosya. [189] I read 'nyuvesustham, which is the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. [190] The silk-cotton tree. [191] Or Hansávalí. [192] Or Kamalákara. [193] It may also mean a host of Bráhmans or many birds and bees. It is an elaborate pun. [194] Another pun! It may mean "by obtaining good fortune in the form of wealth." [195] For vátáyanoddesát the Sanskrit College MS. reads cháyatanoddesát; perhaps it means "entering to visit the temple." [196] Cp. Die Gänsemagd, Grimm's Kinder- und Hausmärchen, No. 89. See also Indian Fairy Tales, by Miss Stokes, No. 1; and Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 100. In the 1st Tale of Basile's Pentamerone, Liebrecht's translation, a Moorish slave-girl supplants the princess Zoza. See also the 49th tale of the same collection. In Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Nos. 33 and 34, we have tales of "A substituted Bride;" see Dr. Köhler's notes. [197] i. e., Vishnu. [198] The sword seems to be essential in these rites: compare the VIth book of the Æthiopica of Heliodorus, where the witch Cybele raises her son to life, in order that he may prophesy; see also the story of Kálarátri, Chapter 20 of this work. [199] The debased form of Buddhism found throughout this work is no doubt the Tantra system introduced by Asanga in the sixth century of our era (Rhys Davids' Manual of Buddhism, pp. 207, 208, 209.) To borrow Dr. Rajendralála Mitra's words, who is speaking of even worse corruptions, (Introduction to the Lalita Vistara, p. 12) it is a wonder "that a system of religion so pure and lofty in its aspirations as Buddhism could be made to ally itself with such pestilent dogmas and practices." The whole incantation closely resembles similar practices in the West. See Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. III, pp. 56 and ff. especially the extract from Mason's Anatomie of Sorcerie, 1612, p. 86--"Inchanters and charmers, they which by using of certaine conceited words, characters, circles, amulets, and such like wicked trumpery (by God's permission) doo worke great marvailes: as namely in causing of sicknesse, as also in curing diseases in men's bodies. [200] Here there is a pun, as Kamalákara means a bed of lotuses, the word paksha meaning wing and also "side." She was of good lineage by her father's and mother's side. Manorathasiddhi means "the attainment of desire." [201] Compare the Soldier's Midnight Watch in Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 274. [202] In the Golden Ass of Apuleius, Pamphile turns herself into an owl; when Apuleius asks to be turned into an owl, in order to follow her, Fotis turns him by mistake into an ass. See also the Ass of Lucian. The story of Circe will occur to every one in connection with these transformations. See also Baring Gould's Myths of the Middle Ages, 1st Series, p. 143. [203] I read prátah for práyah. [204] This city is identified by General Cunningham with Adikot near Ramnagar in Rohilcund. (Ancient Geography of India, p. 359 and ff.) [205] The male and female of this bird are represented by Hindu poets as separated at night. [206] The sword may be compared with that of Chandamahásena in the eleventh chapter, and with Morglay, Excalibur, Durandal, Gram, Balmung, Chrysaor &c. (See Sir G. Cox's Mythology of the Aryan nations, Vol. I, p. 308.) The same author has some remarks upon Pegasus and other magic horses in his IInd Vol. p. 287 and ff. See also Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 256 and ff. [207] Excessive rain, drought, rats, locusts, birds, and foreign invasion. [208] I have before referred to Ralston's remarks on snakes in his Russian Folk-Tales, p. 65. Melusina is a clear instance of a snake-maiden in European Folk-lore. See her story in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. VI. There is a similar marriage in Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 246. [209] Compare the commencement of the story of the Blind Man and the Cripple in Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, and Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 445. This tale appears to belong to the Atalanta cycle. [210] The passage is full of puns, which it is impossible to translate: the "ornaments" may be rhetorical ornaments, there is also a reference to the gunas of rhetorical writers. "Sweetly-tinkling" might mean "elegant words." Gunákrishtá in sloka 76 b, may also mean that the princess was attracted by the good qualities of her opponent. [211] Dr. Kern conjectures udaghátayat, which is as far as I can make out, the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. [212] There is probably a pun here. It may mean that his joints and body were relaxed by old age. [213] This seems to be the meaning of mánava here. See Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. [214] The word also means "dust." [215] Or "by great sorrow." [216] Mára, the god of Love, is the Buddhist devil. [217] The Kumuda remains with its petals closed during the day. [218] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. reading dhrityá. [219] A being recording the vices and virtues of mankind in Yama's world. Kuhn, in his Westfälische Sagen, p. 71, speaks of "a devil who records the evil deeds of men." Böhtlingk and Roth say that utpunsayati in sl. 323 should be utpánsayati. [220] Compare the story in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 242, Gut dass es den Tod auf Erden gibt! [221] Cp. the speech of Chi, the scribe of the realms below, in Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, p. 366. [222] I substitute Bauddham for bodhum. [223] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads lopatah for lobhatah. [224] This idea is found in the story of Jímútaváhana in the 21st Taranga of this work, where see note. Cp. also "Das Wasser des Lebens," Grimm. 97, and the notes in his 3rd volume. See also note on page 499 of Vol. I; and Herrtage's edition of the English Gesta, page 344. [225] I read ullághayan, which is found in the Sanskrit College MS. [226] I read with the MS. in the Sanskrit College bhuktottaram. [227] It also means "the virtues of good or learned men." [228] It also means "without wealth;" vritta also means "metre." [229] i.e. female Yaksha. [230] The notion which Lucretius ridicules in his famous lines, (Book III, 776 and ff,) Denique conubia ad Veneris partusque ferarum Esse animas præsto deridiculum esse videtur, Expectare immortales mortalia membra &c. would, it is clear, present no difficulty to the mind of a Hindu. Nor would he be much influenced by the argument in lines 670-674 of the same book, Præterea si immortalis natura animai Constat, et in corpus nascentibus insinuetur, Cur super anteactam ætatem meminisse nequimus, Nec vestigia gestarum rerum ulla tenemus? [231] i.e. vision of the goddess of Fortune: something like Fortunatus. [232] I read báhú and vidhvastatá: kim tad in sl. 78 should probably be tat kim. [233] In the original there is a most elaborate pun: "free from calamity" may mean also "impolitic" or "lawless." [234] A name of Siva. [235] My native friends tell me that the hand is waved round the head, and the fingers are snapped four or ten times. [236] Possibly this story is the same as that of Tannhäuser, for which see Baring-Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, pp. 196-208. He remarks that the story of Tannhäuser is a very ancient myth christianized. [237] For the consequences entailed in European Stories by eating fruit in the under-world, see Kuhn, Westfälische Märchen, Vol. 1, p. 127; Grimm, Irische Märchen, p. ciii. [238] The Sanskrit College MS. has dantadríshtádharotkatán. Perhaps drishta should be dashta. It would then mean terrible because they were biting their lips. [239] The Sanskrit College MS. reads vimánavijigíshayá. [240] Descendants of Vrishni and relatives of Krishna. In Achyuta there is a pun: the word may mean "Vishnu" and also "permanent": rámam may also refer to Balaráma, who is represented us a drunkard. [241] Pátála, like Milton's lower world, "wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold." [242] Kumudiní means an assemblage of white water-lilies: female attendants may also mean bees, as the Sandhi will admit of ali or áli: rajendram should probably be rájendum, moon of kings, as the kumudiní loves the moon. [243] Cp. the story of Saktideva in Chapter 26. [244] By the laws of Hindu rhetoric a smile is regarded as white. [245] We have an instance of this a little further on. [246] I read dúrabhrashtá. The reading of the Sanskrit College MS. is dúram bhrashtá. [247] See Vol. I. pp. 327 and 577, also Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 36, and Southey's Thalaba the Destroyer, Book I, 30, with the notes. [248] The moon suffers from consumption in consequence of the curse of Daksha, who was angry at his exclusive preference for Rohiní. [249] Here there is a pun: upachitam means also "concentrated." [250] Cp. a story in the Nugæ Curialium of Gualterus Mapes, in which a corpse, tenanted by a demon, is prevented from doing further mischief by a sword-stroke, which cleaves its head to the chin. (Liebrecht's Zur Volkskunde, p. 34 and ff.) Liebrecht traces the belief in vampires through many countries and quotes a passage from François Lenormant's work, La Magie chez les Chaldéens, which shews that the belief in vampires existed in Chaldæa and Babylonia.--See Vol. I, p. 574. [251] Cp. the Vampire stories in Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, especially that of the soldier and the Vampire, p. 314. It seems to me that these stories of Vetálas disprove the assertion of Herz quoted by Ralston, (p. 318) that among races which burn their dead, little is known of regular corpse-spectres, and of Ralston, that vampirism has made those lands peculiarly its own which have been tenanted or greatly influenced by Slavonians. Vetálas seem to be as troublesome in China as in Russia, see Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, Vol. II, p. 195. In Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 139, there is an interesting story of a Vampire, who begins by swallowing fowls, goats and sheep, and threatens to swallow men, but his career is promptly arrested by a man born on a Saturday. A great number of Vampire stories will be found in the notes to Southey's Thalaba the Destroyer, Book VIII, 10. See also his poem of Roprecht the Robber, Part III. For the lamps fed with human oil see Addendum to Fasciculus IV, and Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. I, p. 312, Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 360, and Kuhn's Westfälische Märchen, p. 146. [252] A series of elaborate puns. [253] The significance of those names will appear further on. [254] The word may mean "man of romantic anecdote." [255] Cp. Vol. I, pp. 355 and 577. [256] The Sanskrit College MS. reads na for tu. [257] I read jánási with the Sanskrit College MS. instead of jánámi which Dr. Brockhaus gives in his text. [258] For European methods of attaining invisibility see Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. I, p. 315; Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, Vol. II, pp. 29 and 31; Kuhn, Westfälische Märchen, Vol. I, p. 276, Vol. II, p. 177. The virtues of the Tarnkappe are well-known. In Europe great results are expected from reciting certain sacred formulæ backwards. A somewhat similar belief appears to exist among the Buddhists. Milton's "backward muttering of dissevering charms" is perhaps hardly a case in point. [259] An elaborate pun! varna = caste and also colour: kalá = digit of the moon and accomplishment, or fine art: doshákara = mine of crimes and also the moon. Dowson, in his Classical Dictionary of Hindu Mythology, tells us that Láta is a country comprising Kandesh and part of Guzerat about the Mhye river. It is now called Lár and is the Larikê of Ptolemy. [260] I read prápnomyaham the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. [261] i. e. Dice-mendicant. [262] I conjecture oghaprasántyaiva. [263] Cp. No. LXVI in the English Gesta, page 298 of Herrtage's edition, and the end of No. XII of Miss Stokes's Fairy Tales. See also Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, pp. 83 and 84. [264] Cp. Odyssey, Book IV, 441-442. [265] I read dámabhih for dhámabhih. [266] Benfey (Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 214, note,) traces this superstition through all countries. [267] This passage is a concatenation of puns. [268] The whole passage is an elaborate pun. The lady is compared to a bow, the string of which vibrates in the notches, and the middle of which is held in the hand. [269] I read, with the MS. in the Sanskrit College, drutam anuddhritya for drutam anugatya. [270] As a life-buoy to prevent him from drowning. [271] There must be a reference to the five flowery arrows of the god of Love. [272] When applied to the moon, it means "glorious in its rising." [273] Böhtlingk and Roth give upasankhya as überzählig (?). [274] I adopt pramattá the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. [275] The gods and Asuras used it as a churning-stick at the churning of the ocean for the recovery of the Amrita, and other precious things lost during the deluge. [276] The Mongolian form of these stories is to be found in Sagas from the Far East. This work appears to be based upon a translation made by Jülg from the Calmuck language. Oesterley, in his German version of these tales, tells us that Jülg's translation appeared in Leipzig in the year 1866 under the title of "The tales of the Siddhikür." Oesterley mentions a Sanskrit redaction of the tales, attributed to Sivadása, and one contained in the Kathárnava. He also mentions a Tamul version translated into English by Babington under the title of Vetála Cadai; two Telugu versions, a Mahratta version, the well-known Hindi version, a Bengali version based upon the Hindi, and a Canarese version. [277] Here there is probably a pun. The word translated "jackal" also means the god Siva. Bhairava is a form of Siva. [278] See note on page 293. [279] This story is the 27th in Miss Stokes's collection. [280] I read satáláni, which I find in the Sanskrit College MS., instead of sajáláni. The mistake may have arisen from the blending of two readings satálani and jatáláni. [281] In this there is a pun; the word translated "lotus" may also refer to Lakshmí the wife of Vishnu. [282] Pandit Syámá Charan Mukhopádhyáya thinks that the word dantaghátaka must mean "dentist:" the Petersburg lexicographers take it to mean, "a worker in ivory." His name Sangrámavardhana has a warlike sound. Pandit Mahesa Chandra Nyáyaratna thinks that dantagháta is a proper name. If so, sangrámavardhana must mean prime minister. [283] Cp. the way in which Pushpadanta's preceptor guesses the riddle in page 44 of Vol. I of this work; so Prince Ivan is assisted by his tutor Katoma in the story of "The Blind Man and the Cripple," Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 240. Compare also the story of Azeez and Azeezeh in Lane's Arabian Nights, Vol. I, particularly page 484. The rapid manner, in which the hero and heroine fall in love in these stories, is quite in the style of Greek romances. See Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 148. [284] The Chakora is fabled to subsist upon moonbeams. [285] See the numerous parallels in Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 232; and Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, p. 185, note, where he refers to the story of the Machandel boom (Kinder und Hausmärchen, No. 47), the myth of Zeus and Tantalus, and other stories. In the 47th tale of the Pentamerone of Basile, one of the five sons raises the princess to life and then demands her in marriage. In fact Basile's tale seems to be compounded of this and the 5th of the Vetála's stories. In Prym and Socin's Syrische Märchen, No. XVIII, the bones of a man who had been killed ten years ago, are collected, and the water of life is poured over them with the same result as in our text. There is a "Pergamentblatt" with a life-restoring charm written on it, in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 353. [286] Nishkântam is perhaps a misprint for nishkrântam the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. [287] Cp. Sagas from the Far East, p. 303. [288] Cp. the story told by the "faucon peregryn" in Chaucer's Squire's Tale. [289] The following story is the Xth in Sagas from the Far East. [290] The god of love, with Buddhists the Devil. Benfey considers that the Vetála Panchavinsati was originally Buddhistic. [291] A pun difficult to render in English. [292] The Sanskrit College MS. reads vibuddhesvatha, i. e., being awake. [293] I conjecture prahárí for the pahárí of Brockhaus' edition. In dhárá there is a pun as it also means the "edge of a sword." [294] I read with the Sanskrit College MS. gupta-bhuvane kálatamasi. [295] Cp. the way in which the Banshi laments in Grimm's Irische Märchen, pp. 121 and 122. [296] I read kritapratishthá which I find in the Sanskrit College MS. [297] Sattvavara means distinguished for courage. [298] i. e., Moonlight. [299] Vijnána appears to have this meaning here. In the Pentamerone of Basile (Liebrecht's translation, Vol. I, p. 266) a princess refuses to marry, unless a bridegroom can be found for her with a head and teeth of gold. [300] The wife of Siva, called also Párvatí and Durgá. [301] The word sukláyám, which is found in the Sanskrit College MS., is omitted by Professor Brockhaus. [302] So in the Hero and Leander of Musæus the two lovers meet in the temple of Venus at Sestos, and in the Æthiopica of Heliodorus Theagenes meets Chariclea at a festival at Delphi. Petrarch met Laura for the first time in the chapel of St. Clara at Avignon, and Boccacio fell in love with Maria, the daughter of Robert of Naples, in the Church of the bare-footed friars in Naples. (Dunlop's History of Fiction, translated by Liebrecht, p. 9.) Rohde remarks that in Greek romances the hero and heroine usually meet in this way. Indeed it was scarcely possible for two young people belonging to the upper classes of Greek society to meet in any other way, (Der Griechische Roman, p. 146 and note). See also pp. 385 and 486. [303] For tayá in sl. 10. b, the Sanskrit College MS. reads tathá. [304] Prasnayah in Professor Brockhaus's text should be prasvayah. [305] An allusion to the Ardhanárísa, (i. e. half male half female,) representation of Siva. [306] Grimm in his Teutonic Mythology, p. 185, note, seems to refer to a similar story. He says, "The fastening of heads, that have been chopped off, to their trunks in Waltharius 1157 seems to imply a belief in their reanimation;" see also Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 111. So St. Beino fastened on the head of Winifred after it had been cut off by Caradoc; (Wirt Sikes, British Goblins, p. 348). A head is cut off and fastened on again in the Glücksvogel, Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 108. In Coelho's Portuguese Stories, No. XXVI, O Colhereiro, the 3rd daughter fastens on, in the Bluebeard chamber, with blood, found in a vase marked with their names, the heads of her decapitated sisters. [307] Cp. Giles's Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, pp. 98, 99; Do Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. I, pp. 303 and 304. [308] The word translated "ragged garment" is karpata. The word translated "dependent" is kárpatika. Cp. the story in the 53rd Chapter. [309] Hridayáni should of course be hridyáni, as in the Sanskrit College MS. [310] Cp. the palace of Morgan la Fay in the Orlando Innamorato, canto 36, (Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 168, Liebrecht's translation, p. 76); also the continuation of the romance of Huon de Bourdeaux, (Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 262, Liebrecht's translation, p. 128); and the romance of Ogier le Danois, (Dunlop's History of Fiction, p. 286, Liebrecht's translation, p. 141); cp. also the 6th Fable in the IInd book of the Hitopadesa, (Johnson's translation, p. 57). Stories in which human beings marry dwellers in the water are common enough in Europe, see Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 116, and ff, Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, p. 192, and La Motto Fouqué's story of Undine. The present story resembles in many points "Der rothe Hund" in Gaal's Märchen der Magyaren. There is a similar castle in the sea in Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 125. Cp. Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 53, where king Wilkinus marries a Meerweib, and the following extract from a letter of Mr. David Fitzgerald's in the Academy. "The Siren's tale--like many other episodes of the Iliad and the Odyssey--reappears in various forms, one of the most curious of which is perhaps to be found in Ireland. I borrow it from O'Curry; and I omit the depreciatory criticism with which it is now the fashion to season extracts from that scholar's useful works. Ruad, son of Rigdonn, a king's son, crossing over to North-land with three ships and thirty men in each found his vessel held fast in mid-sea. [Compare the tale of Vidúshaka in Vol. I.] At last he leaped over the side to see what was holding it, and sinking down through the waters, alighted in a meadow where were nine beautiful women. These gave him nine boatloads of gold as the price of his embraces, and by their power held the three vessels immoveable on the water above for nine days. Promising to visit them on his return, the young Irish prince got away from the Sirens and their beds of red bronze, and continued his course to Lochlann, where he stayed with his follow-pupil, son to the king of that country, for seven years. Coming back, the vessels put about to avoid the submerged isle, and had nearly gained the Irish shore, when they heard behind them the song of lamentation of the nine sea-women, who were in vain pursuit of them in a boat of bronze. One of these murdered before Ruad's eyes the child she had borne him, and flung it head foremost after him. O'Curry left a version of this tale from the Book of Ballymote. I have borrowed a detail or two given in the Tochmarc Emere (fol. 21b)--e. g., the important Homeric feature of the watery meadow (machaire). The story given by Gervase of Tilbury (ed. Liebrecht, pp. 30, 31), of the porpoise-men in the Mediterranean and the young sailor; the Shetland seal-legend in Grimm's edition of Croker's tales (Irische Elfen-Märchen, Leipzig, 1826, pp. xlvii et seqq.); and the story found in Vincentius Bellovacensis and elsewhere, of the mermaid giantess and her purple cloak, may be named as belonging or related to the same cycle. These legends are represented in living Irish traditions and the purple cloak just referred to appears, much disguised, in the story of Liban in the book of the Dun." Coraes in his notes on the Æthiopica of Heliodorus, p. 225, has the following quotation from the life of Apollonius of Tyana written by Philostratus, IV, 25, referring to Menippus who married a female of the Rákshasí type and was saved from his fate by Apollonius. "Hê chrêstê nymphê mia tôn Empousôn estin has Lamias te kai Mormolykias hoi polloi hêgountai ......... sarkôn de, kai malista anthrôpeiôn, erôsi, kai palleuousi (is. sphallousi) tois aphrodisiois, hous an ethelôsi daisasthai." [311] Cp. the 26th Taranga of this work, and the parallels referred to there. See also the Losakajátaka, the 41st in Fausböll's edition. Oesterley refers us to Benfey's Panchatantra, 151 and following pages. See Waldau, Böhmische Märchen, p. 410. [312] More literally "through my merits in a former state of existence." [313] Cp. Spenser's Fairy Queen, Book III, canto 6. stanza 42. There is continual spring, and harvest there Continual, both meeting at one tyme. Cp. also Odyssey VII 117, Milton, P. L., IV. 148. [314] Niyogajanitas is a misprint for niyogijanatas, as is evident from the Sanskrit College MS.] [315] Literally "grove of ancestors," i. e., cemetery. [316] Here we have one of the puns in which our author delights. [317] More literally, "for my own two garments." A Hindu wears two pieces of cloth. [318] See note on Vol. I. p. 499, Liebrecht's translation of the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. II, p. 215, Herrtage's edition of the English Gesta Romanorum, p. 55, the Greek fable of Teiresias, Waldau, Böhmische Märchen, p. 1. Cp. also Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. II, p. 24. We are told that Melampus buried the parents of a brood of snakes, and they rewarded him by licking his ears so that he understood the language of birds. (Preller, Griechische Mythologie, Vol. II, p. 474.) [319] This idea is common enough in this work, and I have already traced it in other lands. I wish now to refer to Rohde, der Griechische Roman, p. 126, note. It will be found specially illustrative of a passage in Vol. II, p. 144 of this work. Cp. also the Volsunga-Saga, in Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. III, p. 33, and Murray's Ancient Mythology, p. 43. So Hanumán, in the Rámáyana, brings medicinal herbs from the Himálaya. [320] The word vajra also means thunderbolt. [321] Or "to protect the realm of Anga;" a shameless pun! The god of Love was consumed by the fire of Siva's eye. [322] i. e. wise. [323] One of our author's puns. [324] The word that means "mountain" also means "king." [325] The Sanskrit College MS. reads yantra for Brockhaus's yatra. The wishing-tree was moved by some magical or mechanical contrivance. [326] The Sanskrit College MS. reads anáyattá, which Dr. Kern has conjectured. [327] This part of the story may remind the reader of the story of Melusina the European snake-maiden: see Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. VI. It bears a certain resemblance to that of the Knight of Stauffenberg (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. III.) Cp. also Ein Zimmern und die Meerfrauen, in Birlinger, Aus Schwaben, p. 7. Cp. also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 206. There is a slight resemblance in this story to the myth of Cupid and Psyche. [328] For bhujagah the Sanskrit College MS. rends bhujaga, which seems to give a better sense than the reading in Brockhaus's text. [329] Oesterley (Baitál Pachísí, 201) compares the 12th chapter of the Vikramacharitam in which Vikramáditya delivers a woman, who was afflicted every night by a Rákshasa in consequence of her husband's curse. [330] I follow the reading of a MS. in the Sanskrit College yantradváravápiká. [331] In the original sinsapá, which Professor Monier Williams renders thus; "the tree Dalbergia Sisu; the Asoka tree." Dr. King informs me that these two trees are altogether different. The translation which I have given of the word sinsapá, throughout these tales of the Vetála, is, therefore, incorrect. The tree to which the Vetála so persistently returns, is a Dalbergia Sisu. [332] Dveshá must be a misprint for dveshát. [333] For arudanniva the Sanskrit College MS. reads abhavanniva. [334] Böhtlingk and Roth s. v. say that chíra in Taranga 73, sloka 240, is perhaps a mistake for chírí, grasshopper; the same may perhaps be the case in this passage. [335] For virúpa the Sanskrit College MS. gives virúksha. [336] Oesterley refers to Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 362, for stories in which snakes spit venom into food. Benfey gives at length a fable found in the Latin translation of John of Capua and compares a story in the Sindibád-námah, Asiatic Journal, 1841, XXXVI, 17; Syntipas, p. 149; Scott's Tales of the Seven Vizirs, 196; The 1001 Nights (Breslau) XV, 241; Seven Wise Masters in Grässe, Gesta Romanorum II, 195; Bahár Dánush 1, second and third stories; Keller, Romans des Sept Sages, CL; Dyocletian, Einleitung, 49; Loiseleur-Deslongchamps, Essai, 119, 1. [337] I.e., Dharmarája, possibly the officer established by Asoka in his fifth edict; (see Senart, Les Inscriptions de Piyadasi, p. 125.) The term Dharmarája is applied to Yudhishthira and Yama. It means literally king of righteousness or religion. There is a Dharm Raja in Bhútán. Böhtlingk and Roth seem to take it to mean Yama in this passage. [338] I prefer the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. túryakulaih. [339] See note on page 13. Rohde, (Der Griechische Roman, p. 111,) points out that there are traces of this practice in the mythology of Ancient Greece. Evadne is said to have burnt herself with the body of her husband Capaneus. So OEnone, according to one account, leapt into the pyre on which the body of Paris was burning. See also Zimmer, Alt-Indisches Leben, pp. 329-331. So Brynhild burns herself with the body of Sigurd, (Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. III, p. 166). [340] Cp. Mahábhárata, Vanaparvan, Adhyáya 297, sl. 39. [341] His name Manahsvámin would imply that he ought to be. [342] For gaja the Sanskrit College MS. reads mada. [343] The word siddha also means a class of demigods who travel through the sky: Sasin means moon. [344] Cp. the shaving, by the help of which Preziosa, in the Pentamerone, turns herself into a bear. (Liebrecht's translation of the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I, p. 212.) As soon as she takes it out of her mouth she resumes her human shape. [345] Compare Vol. I, p. 45. [346] This part of the story bears a certain resemblance to the myth of Achilles. [347] The 10 stages are thus given by Sivadása: (1) Love of the eyes; (2) attachment of the mind (manas); (3) the production of desire; (4) sleeplessness; (5) emaciation; (6) indifference to objects of sense; (7) loss of shame; (8) distraction; (9) fainting; (10) death. (Dr. Zachariæ's Sixteenth Tale of the Vetálapanchavinsati, in Bezzenberger's Beiträge). [348] Here the MS. in the Sanskrit College has mantrináse múlanásád rakshyá dharmakshatir dhruvam, which means, "we should certainly try to prevent virtue from perishing by the destruction of its root in the destruction of the minister." [349] See Chapter XXII for another version of this story. It is found in the Bodhisattvávadána-kalpalatá: see Dr. R. L. Mitra's Buddhist Literature of Nepal, p. 77. [350] The MS. in the Sanskrit College reads súrásandrishtaprishthas. [351] I adopt the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. adhrisya for adhrishya, invincible, instead of adrisya invisible. [352] i. e., Párvatí or Durgá. [353] See Vol. I, p. 48, and Baring Gould's remarks in his Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, Second Series, "The piper of Hamelin." [354] Here there is an insipid pun about the army of the Pándavas penetrating by the help of Arjuna the host of Karna. There seems to be an allusion to Krishna also. For vivikshatím the Sanskrit College MS. reads vimathnatím. [355] See Vol. I, p. 176. [356] The Sanskrit College MS. has balád for the balí of Brockhaus's edition. For the "wager" see Vol. I, p. 182. [357] The Sanskrit College MS. reads Tárkshyan nánákranda nityákarnana nirghrinam. [358] The Sanskrit College MS. has sánunayám. [359] The Sanskrit College MS. reads vidadhyád. This is the reading which I follow hero in preference to that of Brockhaus. [360] Cp. Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 594. See Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 106. [361] The MS. in the Sanskrit College reads anyam vrittátmánam: anyam at any rate must be right. [362] See Vol. I, pp. 104, 294, and 574. [363] The Sanskrit College MS. reads prág for náma. [364] The Sanskrit College MS. gives mándyam for maurkhyam. [365] The Sanskrit College MS. gives mankshu for mantram. [366] Duhkhávahe, the reading of Brockhaus's edition, is obviously a misprint for sukhávahe, which I find in the Sanskrit College MS. [367] May we compare this king to Daphnis, who ton hautô anye pikron erôta, kai es telos anye moiras? [368] Cp. the behaviour of the followers of the emperor Otho. [369] Bhanga also means defeat. [370] This vice was prevalent even in the Vedic age. See Zimmer, Alt-Indisches Leben, pp. 283-287; Muir's Sanskrit Texts, Vol. V, pp. 425-430. It is well-known that the plot of the Mahábhárata principally turns on this vice. [371] Compare the conduct of Máthura in the Mrichchhakatika. For the penniless state of the gambler, see p. 195, and Gaal, Märchen der Magyaren, p. 3. [372] I read sakshyámi with the Sanskrit College MS. [373] Prabodhya should, I think, be prabudhya. [374] It also means, in the case of Vishnu, "by his incarnation in the form of a boar." [375] There is a probably a pun in súchitah. [376] So in the legend of Pope Gregory the child is exposed with a sum of gold at its head, and a sum of silver at its feet. (English Gesta, edited by Herrtage, No. LXI.) The story will also be found in Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. XI; here we have the gold and silver, as in the Gesta. See also No. 85 in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen with Dr. Köhler's notes. Cp. V. and VI in Prym and Socin's Syrische Märchen for stories of exposed children who attain wealth and power. [377] I read with the Sanskrit College MS. prayatah for prayátah. The latter reading however gives a fair sense. In sl. 67 I read tishthaty. [378] The modern Allahabad. [379] Literally "head of Gayá." When Gayásura was engaged in devotion on the hill Koláhal about 30 miles from Gayá, Brahmá and the other gods came to him, and asked him what object he had in view. He said his wish was that his body might become the holiest thing in the world, so that all, who touched it, might at once obtain salvation. The request was granted. But Yama complained to Brahmá that no one now came to hell, so that his position had become a sinecure. Thereupon Brahmá, after taking counsel with the other gods, went to Gayásura, and asked him to give his body for a place on which to perform a sacrifice. He consented. Then Brahmá performed his sacrifice on the body of Gayásura, placed several gods on it, and made it immovable. His body now lies with its head towards the north and its feet towards the south. It is therefore called Gayákshetra. The area of Gayákshetra is ten square miles. The interior part of Gayákshetra, about two square miles in extent, is called Gayásirah or the head of Gayá. A more usual form appears to be Gayásirah the head of the Asura Gayá. It is a little south-west of Bishnu Pad. The pilgrims offer pindas there. The principal part of Gayásirah is called Gayámukha. Sráddhas are performed there. Dharmáranya which I have translated "Holy wood" is a place in the east of Bodh Gayá, where Dharmarája performed a sacrifice. Gayákúpa or the well of Gayá is in the south-west of Gayásirah. Here pindas are offered to ancestors who have been great sinners. The above note is summarized from some remarks by Babu Sheo Narain Trivedi, Deputy Inspector of Schools, made for my information, at the request of W. Kemble, Esq. C. S., Magistrate of Gayá. Pandit Mahesa Chandra Nyáyaratna has pointed out to me, that there is an account of the glories of Gayá in the Váyu Purána, and another in the Padma Purána. [These agree pretty nearly with that given above.] See also Barth's Religions of India, p. 278, note 2. [380] Used for filtering the soma-juice, see Böhtlingk and Roth, s. v. [381] i. e., wonderful peak. [382] Here there is probably a pun. The phrase may mean that the king delighted in the dark-grey skins of the pigs. [383] This alludes to Indra's clipping with his bolts the wings of the mountains. The Sarabha is a fabulous eight-legged animal. [384] The natives of India beckon in this way. [385] The Sanskrit College MS. reads váhyasya, which I have followed. [386] The Sanskrit College MS. gives dúrádhva-gamana-klántam vikshya tam nripatim tadá, having seen that the king was wearied with his long journey. [387] The passage is full of puns; "darkness" means the quality of darkness in the mind: and illuminated means also "calmed." [388] There is also an allusion to the circle of the sun's rays. [389] See Vol. I, p. 166. [390] Vinásyaiva should be vinásyeva. [391] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads etenátyasárena. [392] Tejas means courage and also brightness. [393] Asrikkanim is probably a misprint for srikkaním. [394] ushmá should probably be ushná. [395] In the Sanskrit College MS. ati is inserted before durbalatám. [396] The moon is the patron of the kumuda; the sun of the kamala or lotus. Kamalákara means a collection of kamalas. [397] The Sanskrit College MS. reads achúrnam without powder. [398] I take anyávinítavanitáhásiní as one word, and read vilapantí instead of vilapantím. [399] I insert sutám at the beginning of the line. The su is clear enough in the Sanskrit College MS. but the rest of the word is illegible. [400] I read with the Sanskrit College MS. Kusumapurákhyanagaresvarah. But Kusumapurákhye nagare svarát, the reading of Professor Brockhaus's text, would mean "an independent monarch in the city of Pátaliputra," and would give almost as good a sense. [401] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads baddhvá for buddhyá. [402] The Sanskrit College MS. gives the reading, sadanshtrásankatamukhah, which I follow. [403] I read avikrite with the Sanskrit College MS. [404] Guna means virtue and also string; kara finger and tribute; the kaliyuga, or age of vice, is the last and worst. Vaikritam in sl. 2, may perhaps mean "anger," as in 79. sl. 2.: see B. and R. s. v. [405] Oesterley (p. 221,) tells us that a similar incident is found in the Thousand and One Nights, Breslau, Vol. I, p. 62. [406] i. e., possessed of beauty. [407] I read visvasya with the Sanskrit College MS. in place of visramya which means "having rested." [408] I adopt Dr. Kern's conjecture of hata for ahata. [409] I read param with the MS. in the Sanskrit College. [410] This idea is also found in European story-books. See Kuhn's Sagen aus Westfalen, p. 277; "Diese Unerschrockenheit gefiel dem Teufel so sehr, dass sich sein Zorn nicht nur legte, sondern &c." See also Grimm's Irische Elfenmärchen (which is based on Croker's Tales), p. 8. [411] Sramana. [412] I read with the MS. in the Sanskrit College lipta for klipta, and púrna for púrva. [413] See Addendum to Fasciculus IV, being a note on Vol. I, p. 306. [414] The Sanskrit College MS. reads nishkampam. But perhaps we ought to read nishkampa, "O fearless one." Satyam must be used adverbially. Kulabhúbhritám also means "of great mountains." [415] I read netraiseha for netre cha with the Sanskrit College MS. [416] Perhaps pátitát would give a better sense. [417] The story is here taken up from page 232. [418] The Sanskrit College MS. reads sa kritártham. [419] So in Melusine, p. 447, the hero of the tale "La Montagne Noire" rides on the back of a crow, to whom he has to give flesh, as often as he says "couac". At last he has to give him flesh from his own thighs. The wounds are healed instantaneously by means of a "fiole de graisse" which he carries with him. See No. 61 in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen with Dr. Köhler's notes. [420] The Sanskrit College MS. reads kopita for mánada i. e., "Since I was separated from you by the curse of the enraged Nága." [421] Ganesa, who is represented with the head of an elephant. In sl. 8 I read with the Sanskrit College MS. vibhrashtapathá. [422] This word means the sons of Dhritaráshtra, and also geese with black legs and bills. [423] This also means "in which Arjuna was displaying great activity." [424] There is also an allusion to Siva's having drunk the poison that was produced by the churning of the ocean. [425] There is an allusion to Vishnu's having obtained Lakshmí from the ocean when churned. The passage may also mean that the beauty of the lake was permanent. [426] This expression also means that "it rested on the head of the serpent Ananta:" which was true of Pátála or Hades. [427] See Vol. I, pp. 99 and 573, and Brand's Popular Antiquities, Vol. I, p. 225. [428] The Petersburg lexicographers read kalanayá for kalatayá. The three verbs correspond to the three nouns. [429] The Sanskrit College MS. read dínáyám for dírgháyám. [430] When applied to the good man, it means "his heart was benevolent and large." [431] See Vol. I, p. 362. [432] I follow the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. áyati-darsiná. [433] The Sanskrit College MS. gives práchyám saila-sringa-tapovanam. [434] The Sanskrit College MS. reads sukhite jane. The sense is the same. [435] See Vol. I, p. 499, Vol. II, p. 296, and Grohmann, Sagen aus Böhmen, p. 242. [436] The Sanskrit College MS. reads dhátuh sdmágryya-(sic) vaichitryam. [437] See Vol. I, p. 379. [438] The Sanskrit College MS. reads manye (I think) for Hara. [439] The Sanskrit College MS. read sadrisí and anyatra. [440] For falling in love with a picture see Vol. I, p. 490; Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 3; and Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 49, note. For the conventional signs of love in the Greek romances, see Rohde, der Griechische Roman, p. 157 and ff. [441] Here I omit some part of the inventory of the lady's charms. [442] The capital of the god of wealth. [443] Böhtlingk and Roth give nágabandha in this passage as "eine Schlange als Fessel." I do not quite see how to bring in this translation, though I fear that my own is not correct. [444] I read dhairyád for adhairyád. [445] Storms play an important part in the Greek romances. See Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, pp. 428 and 468. [446] The Sanskrit College MS. has jnáta-vrittántá. [447] The self-existent, a name of Siva, Vishnu, and Buddha. [448] I read tanna which I find in the Sanskrit College MS. for tatra. [449] The Sanskrit College MS. has ehi for iha. [450] I read sudurdharshám; the Sanskrit College MS. reads senaním (sic) iva durdharshám: the word translated "rhinoceros" can also mean "sword;" the adjective before it may mean "uplifted," and the word translated "inhabited by lions" may perhaps mean, "commanded by a king." [451] I follow the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. which gives daghna instead of lagna. [452] The Sanskrit College MS. reads vyásaktavírasirasam. [453] I read with the Sanskrit College MS. pátah for práptih. [454] vrittántam should probably be vrittánta, and should be joined with the words that follow. [455] An allusion to the phenomenon of the tides. [456] The Sanskrit College MS. gives vrishta-hiranya-vastram, in which gold and garments were showered on the people. [457] I read sápopaníte with the Sanskrit College MS. [458] See the Dummedhajátaka, Fausböll's edition of the Játakas, Vol. I, p. 259; Liebrecht's translation of the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I. p. 83; and Vol. I of this translation, pp. 153 and 575; also Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction, p. lii. [459] Or "black as tamála." [460] Or "which were of opposite appearance, being white." The word arjuna (white) also refers to the hero Arjuna one of the Pándavas, who lived disguised as a eunuch in the city of king Viráta. Kíchaka (cane) was the leader of the host of king Viráta, and was conquered by Bhíma (terrible). The passage contains another pun which will be obvious to those acquainted with Hindu customs. [461] I. e. patatigavritti. The word seems to mean "subsistence of birds." Compare Macbeth IV, 2, 33. Pandit Ráma Chandra of Alwar points out that the reference in patangavritti is to the "rushing of a moth into a candle." In the text therefore "would be a mere reckless rushing on destruction" should be substituted for "is a mere chimerical fancy." [462] I find tat-sambandhánuráginá in three India Office MSS. kindly lent me by Dr. Rost. [463] I read Mátangarájadeságato; the reading of the India Office MS. No. 1882 is rájádeságato which would mean "by the invitation of the king of the Mátangas." For dúrágamana in sl. 31, No. 2166 reads dútágamana, i. e. "the coming of your messenger." This makes better sense. [464] A pun! It also means "holding prosperity, and holding out hopes to the world." [465] All the three India Office MSS., which Dr. Rost has kindly lent me, read nisásrayah. [466] Professor Monier Williams refers us to Rámáyana III, 75. [467] So, in the 89th chapter of the Wiikina Saga, Heime goes off to join the robber chief Ingram. (Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I. p. 242). [468] The India office MS. No. 2166 reads mátsyanyáyabhayodayát. [469] His name means "Wild man of the Stronghold" or "Demon of the Stronghold." [470] The passage is full of puns: vayas means "age" and "bird"; krishna "black" and also the god of that name; bhúbhrit "king" and also "mountain." [471] Killed by Vishnu in the form of a boar. [472] Another play on words. It may mean "was the son of the Pándava Bhíma." [473] I do not understand this allusion. Pandit Ráma Chandra of Alwar points out that the reference is to one of the exploits of Arjuna Sahasrabáhu, often called Kártavíryya, which is related in the Uttara Kánda of the Rámáyana, Sarga 32. [474] Anjana is a black pigment applied to the eyes. [475] Vana might mean "water." [476] Two of the India office MSS. read cha te datta-dútáh, the other reads cha taddattadútáh. I think these readings give a better sense. The king of the Mátangas is here Durgapisácha. [477] I read samamánayat the conjecture of Dr. Kern. I find it in MS. No. 1882 and in 2166. [478] Being a man of high caste, he ate with men who had none, or next to none. Dr. Kern wishes to read kárye, but all the MSS. have káryam. [479] Compare the way in which king Melias receives the proposals of Osantrix in the 53rd chapter of the Wilkina Saga, (Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 182.) [480] Or "of the mountains that retained their wings," i. e., by taking refuge from Indra in the sea. The pun is, of course, most intentional. [481] Krishna, in the form of a man-lion, destroyed Hiranyakasipu. The word man-lion also refers to brave soldiers. For sashpeshu No. 1882 reads sasyeshu. [482] I read with India Office MS. No. 1882 dividattordhvajhampáni; the two other MSS. agree in reading jampáni. For bhruvasálinám I read bhujasálinám which I find in the three India Office MSS. [483] The lady's name in Sanskrit is Chaturiká. [484] The king of the snakes. See for his thousand mouths and thousand tongues p. 313 of this Volume. [485] No. 1882 has mattairasamvritadvárám. [486] There is an intentional pun in this passage which may be translated, "illuminated by the moon with his rays" or "pointed out by the moon with his fingers." [487] For parasparám, I read paramparám, following Böhtlingk and Roth. This is the reading of MS. No. 1882. [488] I read vá rane the conjecture of Dr. Kern. [489] Sakárá is a misprint for Sákárá, which I find in MS. No. 1882. [490] Dr. Kern prefers tejasvinam to tejasvinám--I have adopted this conjecture, which is supported by two of the India Office MSS. [491] I read kálochitam the conjecture of Dr. Kern; it is found in the three MSS. lent me by Dr. Rost. [492] Dasibhih is a misprint for dasabhih, the reading of the MSS. [493] So king Nidung in the Wilkina Saga, (ch. 131,) asks king Sigmund to come to his palace if he wishes to marry his daughter. (Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. I, p. 322) [494] Dr. Kern points out that Sraddhatus is a misprint for Sraddadhus. [495] Here No. 1882 reads griheshu kritavairasya gamane. [496] A bhára = 20 Tulás. [497] The words are, by a misprint, wrongly divided in Brockhaus's text. [498] Cp. Heliodorus III. 4. pleon apo tôn ophthalmôn selas ê tôn dadôn apêugazen, quoted by Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 152, note. [499] For Sarájakávarti I read Sarájakávanti; Mrigánkadatta might be said by an admiring father to have conquered the king of Ujjayiní. [500] It corresponds to the European ceremony of coronation, though performed with water. [501] This is the conclusion of the story of Mrigánkadatta, which begins on page 138. [502] There is of course an allusion to the Mánasa lake. [503] Here there is a pun; the word translated "bees" can also mean "arrows." [504] The god of love, the Buddhist devil. [505] The word "rati" in Sanskrit means "joy." [506] No. 1882 has dhanyá sa cha naro, No. 2166 dhanyah sa cha naro, i. e., Happy is that man. [507] Two of the India Office MSS. read álinganadhikam. [508] I read sammadah for sampadah. I find it in MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166. [509] MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 give cha tat for tathá. [510] More literally "creeper-like chain." [511] I have followed Brockhaus's text, which is supported by MS. No 3003. The other two read tatpremabhayasotkampam. [512] The words denoting "reflection" "headache" and "ignorance" are feminine in Sanskrit and so the things denoted by them have feminine qualities attributed to them. Ignorance means perhaps "the having no news of the beloved." All the India Office MSS. read vriddhayá for vrittayá. [513] Here the reading of MS. No. 1882 is Pápamúlá yatah pápaphalabháram prasúyate Tatkshanenaiva bhajyante síghramdhanavishadrumáh. No. 3003 reads práptamulá, tadbharenaiva, and bhujyante. No. 2166 agrees with No. 1882 in the main, but substitutes tana for dhana. I have followed No. 1882, adopting tadbharenaiva from No. 3003. [514] I read yas chádharmyo 'gradútuh. MS. No. 1882 reads yas chádhamyo; No. 3003 reads yas chádharmo and No. 2166 reads as I propose. [515] The word may mean "bridegroom." [516] I adopt Dr. Kern's conjecture áropya sibikám. It is found in two out of three India Office MSS. for the loan of which I am indebted to Dr. Rost. [517] The word which means "boddice," means also "the skin of a snake;" and the word translated "beauty" means also "saltness." [518] Because she really wanted to talk to Madirávatí about her own love affair. [519] I omit cha after vinodayitum as it is not found in the three India Office MSS. [520] The whole passage is an elaborate pun resting upon the fact that the same word means "tribute" and "ray" in Sanskrit. Ákranda sometimes means a protector. [521] I read bándharavat so. The late Professor Horace Hayman Wilson observes of this story. "The incidents are curious and diverting, but they are chiefly remarkable from being the same as the contrivances by which Mádhava and Makaranda obtain their mistresses in the drama entitled Málatí and Mádhava or the Stolen Marriage." [522] I adopt the reading of MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166, parijanah. This seems to make better sense. [523] This bears a slight resemblance to the story of Psyche. [524] Cp. Vol. I, p. 301. [525] I read with MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 tvadnámnyudirite; No. 3003 reads tvattrásyudírite. This seems to point to the same reading, which agrees with sl. 74, a. It is also found in a MS. lent me by the Principal of the Sanskrit College. [526] The god of fire. [527] Two of the India Office MSS. read haste. So also the Sanskrit College MS. [528] I follow Dr. Kern in deleting the inverted commas, and the comma after drishtvá. [529] Bernhard Schmidt in a note on page 12 of his Griechische Märchen informs us that he considers the connexion between the Vidyádharas and the Phæacians of Homer to be clearly proved. Here we have two points wherein the Gandharvas resemble them; (1) the love of music, (2) the right of ordinary citizens to aspire to the hand of the princess. [530] I read satalam sá cha gáyantí vínáyám Sauriná svayam Dattam svagítakam káshtám gándharve paramám gatá. In this all the three India Office MSS. substantially agree. No. 1882 writes gáyantí with both short and long i and gandharva, No. 2166 has káshtham with short a, and all three have a short a in Gandharve. It is curious to see how nearly this agrees with Dr. Kern's conjecture. I find that the MS. lent me by the Principal of the Sanskrit College agrees with the reading I propose, except that it gives gandharva. [531] In the Swayamvara the election used to be made by throwing a garland on the neck of the favoured suitor. [532] MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 read mukhamandane i. e., face-ornament. [533] Perhaps the word also conveys the meaning, "intoxicated." MSS. Nos. 1882 and 3166, give samadátámranetra, the other by mistake átáma. This would mean the "play of the eyes a little red with intoxication and of the eyebrow." The word I have translated "palate" means the tongue considered as the organ of taste. The MS. kindly lent me by the Principal of the Sanskrit College reads samadáttámranetra-bhrúvibhramáh. [534] The three India Office MSS., which Dr. Rost has kindly lent me, read tadanyánga. So does the Sanskrit College MSS. [535] I have altered the division of the words, as there appears to be a misprint in Brockhaus's text. [536] The three India Office MSS. give Srántamjalatrishá. In No. 1882 the line begins with atra, in the other two with tatra: I have given what I believe to be the sense taking trishá as the instrumental. Sránta appears to be sometimes used for Sánta. The Sanskrit College MS. reads tatra sántam jalatrishá tasya pítámbhaso vane. This exactly fits in with my rendering. [537] I delete the stop at the end of the 100th sloka. All the India Office MSS. read kritásvásá, and so does the Sanskrit College MS., but kritásá sá makes sense. [538] A single braid of hair worn by a woman as a mark of mourning for an absent husband. Monier Williams s. v. ekaveni. [539] MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 read na cha for mayi; "and did not practise cruelties;" No. 3003 has mayí. The Sanskrit College MS. has mama krauryánnyavartatá (sic). [540] I read tatrásya tatpradhánágre dosham sirasi pátaya. The three India Office MSS. give tatrásya; No. 1882 has prasádágre and dháraya; No. 3003 pradhánágre and dháraya; No. 2166 pradhánágre and pátaya. The Sanskrit College MS. agrees with Brockhaus's text. [541] Dr. Kern would read na cha for vata. Righteous kings and judges see no difference between a feeble and powerful person, between a stranger and a kinsman. But the three India Office MSS. read vata. So does the MS. which the Principal of the Sanskrit College, Pandit Mahesa Chandra Nyáyaratna, has kindly lent me. [542] The Petersburg lexicographers are of opinion that risad should be tasad or tasad. Two of the India Office MSS. seem to read tasad. [543] See Vol. I, pp. 136 and 142. [544] Here two of the India Office MSS. read mámsopadamsam, the third mámsopadesam. [545] Dr. Kern reads tena for yena. His conjecture is confirmed by the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. [546] I have adopted Dr. Kern's conjecture of saha for sahi and separated with him abhyudayáyate into two words, abhyudayáya te. I find that his conjecture as to saha is confirmed by the three India Office MSS. [547] Probably devanirmitah should be one word. [548] See Vol. I, p. 405. [549] In Sanskrit Siddhakshetra. [550] Perhaps we may compare Vergil Georgics, I, 487, and Horace, Od. I, 34, 5; and Vergil Aeneid VII, 141, with the passages there quoted by Forbiger. But MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 read udbhúta. [551] It is clear that the goddess did not herself appear, so trinetrá is not a proper name, unless we translate the passage "armed with the trident of Gaurí." [552] Compare Webster's play, The Duchess of Malfy, where the Duchess says What witchcraft doth he practise, that he hath left A dead man's hand here? [553] I read antargriham as one word. [554] In the above wild story the hero has to endure the assaults of the witches on three successive nights. So in the story of the Headless Princess (Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 271) the priest's son has to read the psalter over the dead princess three nights running. He is hardest pressed on the last night; and on each occasion at day-break the "devilry vanished." In the same way in The Soldier's Midnight Watch (ib. p. 274) the soldier has three nights of increasing severity. So in Southey's Old Woman of Berkeley, the assaults continue for three nights, and on the third are successful. [555] Kuhn in his Westfälische Sagen, Vol. II, p. 29, gives a long list of herbs that protect men from witches. The earliest instance in literature is perhaps that Moly, "That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave." See also Bartsch, Sagen aus Meklenburg, Vol. II, p. 37. [556] See Vol. I, pp. 224 and 576, and p. 268 of the present volume. To the parallels quoted by Ralston may be added, Prym and Socin's Syrische Sagen, p. 116; Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 94; and Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, p. 63. [557] Cp. Hagen's Helden-Sagen, Vol. II, pp. 341, 342. Here Hagen steals the clothes of some Meerweiber, who were bathing in the Danube; in this way he induces the elder of the two to prophesy the fate of himself and his companions at the court of Attila. In the Russian story of Vasilissa the Wise (Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales, p. 126,) the hero steals Vasilissa's shift. She promises to do him good service if he gives it back, which he does. She turned into a spoonbill and flew away after her companions. (See Ralston's remarks on p. 120.) We find the incident of stealing the robes of bathing nymphs in Prym and Socin's Syrische Sagen und Märchen, p. 116; in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen, p. 250; Veckenstedt's Wendische Märchen, pp. 119-130; Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Part I, p. 31, (with Köhler's notes). In the above tales the dress stolen is what our great folk-lore authority terms a "plumage-robe." The Nereids in modern Greek stories are swan-maidens; see Bernhard Schmidt's Griechische Märchen und Sagen, p. 134. The subject of Swan Maidens is thoroughly worked out by Baring Gould in his Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, New edition, pp. 561-578. See also Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, pp. 263 and ff. He expresses his firm conviction that tales of this kind will be found in Indian collections. [558] Or possibly, "clothed in moisture." [559] The three India Office MSS. read samstavád. [560] Cp. Vol. I, p. 250; and for what follows p. 230 of the same volume. [561] Cp. p. 8 of this volume and the note there. In Sagas from the Far East there is a story of a gold-spitting prince. In Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Quaddaruni's sister drops pearls and precious stones from her hair whenever she combs it. Dr. Köhler in his note on this tale gives many European parallels. In a Swedish story a gold ring falls from the heroine's mouth whenever she speaks, and in a Norwegian story gold coins. I may add to the parallels quoted by Dr. Köhler, No. 36 in Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, in which tale pearls drop from the heroine's mouth. [562] All the India Office MSS. read 'dyápi for yo 'pi and two seem to read ápátane. I find ápatana in the Petersburg lexicon, but not ápátana. I have translated the passage loosely so as to make a good sense. The Sanskrit College MS. gives a reading which exactly suits my translation; Sachandrárdhah Sivo 'dyápi Harir yas cha sakaustubhah Tattayorvedmi kuttanyá gochar ápatane phalam. [563] More literally "smeared with blood and relishing it." Böhtlingk and Roth seem to think rasat refers to some noise made by the swords. [564] All the India Office MSS. read bhitam for the bhímam of Brockhaus's text. [565] The word means "having sands of gold." [566] The word asmábhir has been omitted in Brockhaus's text. It follows panchabhir in the three India Office MSS. and in the Sanskrit College MS. [567] Two of the India Office MSS. have bháraníyam. In the third the passage is omitted. But the text of Brockhaus gives a good sense. [568] I read prashthás which I find in two of the India Office MSS. No. 1882 has prasthás. [569] An epithet of Siva. [570] See Vol. I, pp. 153 and 575. Cf. also the story of Aschenkatze in the Pentamerone of Basile, Vol. I, p. 83; the Dummedhajátaka, Ed. Fausböll, Vol. I, p. 259; Preller, Römische Mythologie, p. 96; Kuhn, Westfälische Sagen, Vol. I, pp. 241, 242, 244, 245; Ovid's Metamorphoses VIII, 722-724, and 743 and ff; and Ralston's Tibetan Tales, Introduction, p. lii. [571] The Sanskrit College MS. has Ratyá. [572] The seven jewels of the Chakravartin are often mentioned in Buddhist works. In the Mahávastu, p. 108 (Ed. Senart) they are, chariot, elephant, horse, wife, householder, general. In a legend quoted by Burnouf (Introduction a l'Histoire du Buddhisme Indien, p. 343) the same six are enumerated as "les sept joyaux." In both cases the sword is omitted. They are also described in the Mahá-Sudassana-Sutta translated by Rhys Davids in the eleventh volume of the Sacred Books of the East Series. [573] For átmasamarddhiná the India Office MS. No. 1882 has átmasamriddhiná; No. 2166 has samashtiná, and No. 3003 agrees with Brockhaus's text. So does the Sanskrit College MS. [574] We have often had occasion to remark that the Hindu poets conceive of glory as white. [575] See Sir Thomas Browne's Vulgar Errors, Book III, Chap. 7, Heliodorus, Æthiopica, III, 8. [576] One of the Saktis. [577] Two of the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read cha cháránám for sadáránám. This would mean, I suppose, that the cave might be passed by all the scouts and ambassadors of the Vidyádharas. [578] Or possibly "Ganas (Siva's attendants) and witches." [579] Dhúmasikha, literally the smoke-crested, means fire. [580] I read saptvá which I find in MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2196, the other has sasvá. I also find cakravartibalád in No. 1882, (with a short i,) and this reading I have adopted. The Sanskrit College MS. seems to have saptvá. In sl. 119 I think we ought to delete the h in Sangrámah. In 121 the apostrophe before gra-bhásvarah is useless and misleading. In 122 yad should be separated from vismayam. [581] Cp. Vol. I, p. 313. [582] All the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read chakravarti with a short i. [583] The India Office MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 and the Sanskrit College MS. read táratúryam. It makes the construction clearer, but no material difference in the sense. [584] Or adorned with Vishnu's Lakshmí. Here we have a pun, as she sprang from the sea. [585] Herein he shewed himself wiser than king Mándhátar the hero of the first tale in Ralston's Tibetan tales. He connects it with No. 19 in Grimm's collection, and many other European stories. It is probable that the story of Naraváhanadatta's conquests is only another form of the tale of Mándhátar. [586] Of course in the original the word expresses the idea of sprinkling with water. [587] It may possibly mean, "land of the Siddhas". In Chapter 107 the Siddhas are mentioned as directing Naraváhanadatta's devotions on their holy mountain. [588] See Vol. I, p 305. [589] I read vairamalam. The reading in Brockhaus's text is a misprint. [590] Cp. Holinshed's account of Richard II's coronation. "The Archbishop, having stripped him, first anointed his hands, after his head, breast, shoulders, and the joints of his arms, with the sacred oil, saying certain prayers, and in the meanwhile did the choir sing the anthem, beginning 'Unxerunt regem Salomonem.' The above quotation comes from the Clarendon Press Edition of King Richard II, p. 137, sub calcem. [591] I read vritam which appears to be the reading of the three India Office MSS. and of the Sanskrit College MS. It is clear enough in No. 2166. In sloka 85 I think that the reading of MS. No. 3003 náarityatkevalam yávad vátoddhútalatá api must be something near the truth, as yával in Brockhaus's text gives no meaning. (The Sanskrit College MS. gives Anrityannaiva vátena dhutá yával latá api.) Of course the plural must be substituted for the singular. I have translated accordingly. Two MSS. have valgad for vallad in sl. 87. [592] Two of the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read ásádya; the line appears to be omitted in the third. [593] An allusion to the sprinkling at his coronation. The king "put him on his lap." [594] I read drishtvá prabhuprasádáptadiryatván which I find in two of the India Office MSS. No 3003 has prata for prabhu. [595] All the India Office MSS. read sangamahotsave. The Sanskrit College MS. reads bandhúnám sangamotsave. [596] Here Brockhaus supposes a lacuna. [597] Literally "ground." No doubt they squatted on the ground at the feast as well as at the banquet; which preceded it, instead of following it, as in the days of Shakespeare. [598] The king of Vatsa feels like Ulysses in the island of Calypso. [599] A bhára is 20 tulás. [600] There is a play on words here. Sanskrit poets suppose that joy produces in human beings, trembling, horripilation, and perspiration. [601] For anyonyasya the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read anyasyástám, which means, "Not to speak of other beings, even animals &c." [602] This is only another form of the story on page 105 of Vol. I. [603] Cp. Hamlet Act V, Sc. II, 1. 223; Julius Cæsar Act V, Sc. I, 1 71 and ff. [604] See Vol. I, p. 441. Dante seems to have considered that dreams immediately before morning were true. See Inferno, XXVI, 7; and Purgatorio, IX, 13-18. Fraticelli quotes from Horace-- Quirinus Post mediam noctem visus cum somnia vera. [605] I read pársvasthitam for pársvastham. The former is found in the three India Office MSS. and in the Sanskrit College MS. [606] The word, which means "wrinkles," also means "strong." [607] The three India Office MSS. read kritvaiva for kritveva. [608] Asitagiri. [609] This passage is full of lurking puns. It may mean "full of world-upholding kings of the snakes, and of many Kapilas." [610] For supád No 1182 reads pumán and No. 2166 sumán. [611] Two of the India Office MSS. have sunámávantivaráhanah in sl. 13. In the third there is a lacuna. [612] In Sanskrit the moon is masculine and the night feminine. [613] This story is found in Vol. I, pp. 69-71; where see notes. Some additional notes will be found on p. 572 of the same volume. Cp. also Schöppner, Sagen der Bayerischen Lande, Vol. I, p. 258. [614] So, in this story of Ohimé, No. 23, in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, Maruzza says to Ohimé, "Tell me, dear master, if by ill luck any one wished to kill you, how ought he to set about it?" The Indian story is much less clumsy than the Sicilian, which is, no doubt, derived from it. [615] The moon hates the kamala and loves the kumuda. [616] I read stimitasthiteh which I find in MS. No. 2166, and in the Sanskrit College MS. [617] Cp. Vol. I, p. 328 and ff. The story in the Gesta Romanorum to which reference is there made, bears a close resemblance to the present story; but in the present case it appears as if beauty had more to do with fascinating the elephant than modesty. [618] The Petersburg lexicographers explain this as a Chandála, a man of the lowest rank, a kind of Kiráta. [619] The word "good" is used in a sense approximating to that in which it is used by Theognis, and the patricians in Coriolanus. [620] I read antyajám which I find in two of the Indian Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. In No. 3003 there is, apparently, a lacuna. [621] Cp. the Sigálujátaka, Fausböll, Vol. II, p. 5. A barber's son dies of love for a Lichchhavi maiden. The Buddha then tells the story of a jackal whose love for a lioness cost him his life. [622] Compare the story of the birth of Servius Tullius, as told by Ovid. The following are Ovid's lines: Namque pater Tulli Vulcanus, Ocresia mater Præsignis facie Corniculana fuit. Hanc secum Tanaquil sacris de more peractis Jussit in ornatum fundere vina focum. Hic inter cineres obscæni forma virilis Aut fuit aut visa est, sed fuit illa magis. Jussa loco captiva sedet. Conceptus ab illa Servius a cælo semina gentis habet. [623] All the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read kridyán "delicious fish." [624] See Vol. I, p. 241. [625] See Vol. I, p. 98. In sloka 143 the India Office MSS. Nos. 2166 and 1882 and the Sanskrit College MS give pramayát for prabhayá. I suppose it means "from dying in that holy place." [626] This is another version of the story which begins on page 297 of this volume. I have not omitted it, as my object is to reproduce the original faithfully, with the exception of a few passages repugnant to modern European taste. In the same way in Játaka No. 318, beginning on page 58 of Fausböll's third Volume, a lady falls in love with a criminal who is being led to execution. [627] I read iva serana: I suppose serana comes from si. Dr. Kern would read ahrasva-sana: (the former word hesitatingly). But iva is required. Prerana would make a kind of sense. See Taranga 48, sl. 26, a. The sloka is omitted in all the three India Office MSS. and in the Sanskrit College MS. [628] The Petersburg lexicographers translate durbharah by Schwer beladen. I think it means that the supposed thief had many costly vices, which he could not gratify without stealing. Of course it applies to the king in a milder sense. [629] In the realms below the earth. [630] I read after Dr. Kern visvastaghátakah a slayer of those who confide in him. I also read kvási for kvápi; as the three India Office MSS. give kvási. [631] The three India Office MSS. give tu for tam. [632] I take sakáranam as one word. [633] See Vol. I, p. 174, and ff. and Vol. II, p. 307, and ff. [634] The Petersburg lexicographers spell the word Sibi. This story is really the same as the XVIth of Ralston's Tibetan Tales which begins on page 257. Dr. Kern points out that we ought to read dugdhábdinirmalá. The India Office MSS. give the words correctly. This story is also found in the Chariyá Pitaka. See Oldenberg's Buddha, p. 302. [635] The word saumya means "pleasing" and also "moon-like"; kalá in the next line means "digit of the moon" and also "accomplishment." [636] I read satráni or sattráni for pátráni which would mean "fit recipients." I find sattráni in MS. No. 1882. [637] A perpetually recurring pun! Guna in Sanskrit means "bowstring" and also "virtue," and is an unfailing source of temptation to our author. [638] This story was evidently composed at a time when the recollections of the old clan-system were vivid in the minds of the Hindus. See Rhys David's Buddhism, p. 28. Gautama's relations "complained in a body to the Rájá Suddhodana that his son, devoted to home pleasures, neglected those manly exercises necessary for one who might hereafter have to lead his kinsmen in case of war." [639] I read anyánupayoginyá which I find in MS. No. 3003. No. 1882 has anyánupabhoginyá. In the other MS. the passage is omitted. Another syllable is clearly required. The Sanskrit College MS. reads kim chányánupayoginyatra. [640] Cp. Richard II, V. 1. 35. [641] India Office MS. No. 1882 reads nitau; the other two seem to omit the lines altogether. [642] As Anáthapindika gives the Jetavana garden to Buddha in the Bharhut Sculptures; see also p. 329 of this volume. [643] The pun is intelligible enough: dvija means "Bráhman" and also "bird": áságata means "coming from every quarter" and "coming in hope to get something." [644] tat should not be separated from the next word. [645] The three India Office MSS. read apacháram tvam. The Sanskrit College MS. gives apavdram. [646] The metre shows that 'sta is a misprint for 'sita. All the three India Office MSS. read 'sita. So does the Sanskrit College MS. [647] An allusion to the Arddhanárísa form of Siva. [648] Pitámaháh must be a misprint for pitámahah, as is apparent from the India Office MSS. [649] This story is in the original prefaced by "Iti Padmávatí kathá." It continues to the end of the book, but properly speaking, the story of Padmávatí does not commence until chapter 115. [650] There is a reference to the sectaries of Siva in Benares, and the Ganas of Siva on mount Kailása. [651] Here we have a longer form of the story of Brahmadatta found on pp. 12 and 13 of Vol. I. Dr. Rajendralál Mitra informs me that it is also found in a MS. called the Bodhisattva Avadána, one of the Hodgson MSS. [652] i. e., moonlight. [653] There is probably a double meaning. The clouds are compared to the Ganges, and it is obvious that geese would cluster round lotuses. [654] The sárasa is a large crane; the chakraváka the Brahmany duck. [655] i. e., Tárkshyaratna. I have no idea what the jewel is. B. and R. give ein bestimmter dunkelfarbiger Edelstein. In Játaka No. 136 there is a golden goose who had been a Bráhman. He gives his feathers to his daughters to sell, but his wife pulls out all the feathers at once; they become like the feathers of a baka. Afterwards they all grow white. See Rhys David's Buddhist Birth Stories, p. ix, note. In Sloka, 4. 1, I read tadrasád for tatra sadá, with MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166; No. 3003 has tatrasád. [656] It may possibly mean "acted a love-drama." I cannot find the sense I have assigned to it in any Dictionary. [657] Before anu we should with the India Office MSS. insert tad. Monier Williams explains Brahma-Rákshasa as a "fiend of the Bráhmanical class." [658] It is worth while remarking that all the India Office MSS. here read kshetram which would make Siddhísvara the name of a place here. [659] All the India Office MSS. read gatvá for jnátvá. I have adopted this; and I take tatkóranam adverbially. MS. No. 1882 has gatovijnáta. [660] It appears from the India Office MSS. that dhanaván should be inserted after bráhmano. In sloka 82, the India Office MSS. read chitráyatam which I have adopted. [661] The three India Office MSS. have viteratuh. [662] Dr. Kern would read kshudduhkáváptasamklesau. I find that all the three India Office MSS. confirm his conjecture, so I have adopted it. [663] Cp. Vergil's Aeneid VIII. 172 and ff. [664] All the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read svágra, which I have endeavoured to translate. Perhaps it may mean, "before they took any food themselves." [665] Here the name of a place sacred to Siva. Before we have had it as the god's title. See B. & R. s. v. It means "lord of magic powers." [666] It appears from the India Office MSS. that táv should be inserted after evam. [667] I have adopted the reading andhakáritam which I find in the three India Office MSS. [668] I read nihatasya which I find supported by two of the India Office MSS. No. 1882 has nihitasya, No. 2166 nihatasya and No. 3003 has anihatasya. The Sanskrit College MS. has tihatasya. [669] Perhaps there is a pun here. The word ishta may also mean sacrifice, sacred rite. [670] I. e., Brihaspati. [671] The word for god here is amara, literally immortal. This may remind the classical reader of the passage in the Birds where Iris says all' athanatos eim', and Peisthetærus imperturbably replies, all' homôs an apethanes. [672] I read dattajhampo which I find in MS. No. 3003. The other two have dattajampo. The Sanskrit College MS. has dattajhampo. [673] Cp. Ovid's Metamorphoses, V, 321-331, for the flight of the inhabitants of the Grecian heaven from the giant Typhoeus. [674] All the India Office MSS. read prishtas. [675] All the India Office MSS. read Vidyuddhvajántako. [676] MS. No. 1882 here reads chiraprápyas: the other two agree with Brockhaus. [677] I suspect this island is the same as the Whiteman's land of the Icelandic chronicles. See Baring Gould's Curious Myths of the Middle Ages (New Edition) p. 550 and following. [678] A title of Brahmá. See Muir's Sanskrit Texts, Vol. IV, p. 18. [679] For anyonya I read anyánya, but all the MSS. confirm Brockhaus's text. [680] The three India Office MSS. have dasa kalpán. [681] I read cyutam for cyutá. See Taranga 117, sl. 152 and ff. But all the India Office MSS. agree with Brockhaus's text. The tale itself will justify my correction. [682] The word tejasá also means valour. [683] Literally "the nectar-rayed one." [684] Cp. Vol. I, p. 69 and Vol. II, p. 172. also Prym und Socin Syrische Märchen, p. 205, and Silius Italicus I, 430, quoted by Preller, Griechische Mythologie, II, 354. [685] See the note in Vol. I, p. 465, also p. 578, and Zimmer's Alt-Indisches Leben p. 60, Preller, Römische Mythologie, pp. 102 and 103; the vultures will remind the English reader of Shakespeare's Julius Cæsar, V, I, 84 and ff.; for the ominous import of lightning see Smith's Dictionary of Antiquities, Art. Bidental; and Preller, Römische Mythologie, p. 172. There is a very similar passage in Achilles Tatius, Lib. V. C. 3. Hôs oun proêlthomen tôn thyrôn, oiônos hêmin ginetai ponêros· chelidona kirkos diôkôn tên Leukippên patassei tô pterô eis tên kephalên. See also Sir Thomas Browne's Vulgar Errors, Book V, Chapter 23, Sec. 1; Webster's Duchess of Malfi, Act II, Sc. II. How superstitiously we mind our evils! The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare, Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse, Or singing of a cricket, are of power To daunt whole man in us. [686] I read tadanullanghayan with MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 and the Sanskrit College MS. No. 3003 has anullanghaya. [687] I read patyus for pitus with the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. [688] The India Office MSS. have kasmai dattá vá; but the sense is much the same. [689] It appears from the beginning of the chapter that this was the charioteer of Váyu the chief god of the Wind. In Chapter 115, sl. 57, the wind-gods are opposed to the Daityas. B. and R. identify these wind-gods with the Maruts, s.v. Váyu. [690] Dr. Kern corrects kavachanam to kavacham. The latter word is found in the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. [691] I read mauktika for maulika. The three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS have mauktika. [692] One of the seven hells, (not places of torment). [693] A title of Brahmá. [694] But the three India Office MSS. read ghúrnad for purna. It could, I suppose, mean, "reeling with joy." The Sanskrit College MS. has púruva. [695] The Lokapálas are the guardians of the four cardinal and four intermediate points of the compass. They appear to be usually reckoned as Indra, guardian of the East, Agni of the South-East, Varuna of the West, Yama of the South, Súrya of the South-West, Pavana or Váyu of the North-West, Kuvera of the North, Soma or Chandra of the North-East. Some substitute Nirriti for Súrya and Isání or Prithiví for Soma. [696] The reed was no doubt used as a brush or pencil. The Sanskrit College MS. reads utkanthá-sannapánir aham katham. [697] The three India Office MSS. read atha srutam, which, I suppose, means, "and I heard something too." [698] This line in Brockhaus's text is unmetrical. Nos. 1882 and 3003 read kim nu gáhyate, No. 2166 has na for nu. [699] I adopt Dr. Kern's conjecture of yám for yá. It is confirmed by the three India Office MSS. and by the Sanskrit College MS. [700] This meaning is assigned by Böhtlingk and Roth to the word nerváti in this passage. [701] I follow MSS. Nos. 3003 and 2166 which give jano' nuvritto'pi. [702] Böhtlingk and Roth consider that sákalyaka is the true rending. One MS. certainly has y and I think probably the others. [703] By the canons of Hindu rhetoric a smile is white. Hence this frigid conceit. [704] I read na for tu. Two out of the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. give na. [705] Here MSS. Nos. 3003 and 2166 and the Sanskrit College MS. read aprekshápúrvakáriná, the nominative case of which word is found in Taranga 64, slokas 20 and 26. No. 1882 has aprekshyápúrvakáriná. [706] Two of the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. insert kinchit before tapasám. [707] MS. No. 1882 reads garbhaváse kleso; and this seems to give a sense more clearly in accordance with the sequel of the story. [708] Literally, too careful guarding of his dináras. Dinára is the Latin denarius. [709] Of course we must read avilambitam which is found in two out of the three India Office MSS. and in the Sanskrit College MS. No. 1882 has vilambitam. [710] Viníyate is a misprint for viniyete. [711] We should probably read asranimnagáh with two India Office MSS. No 3003 has asrunimnagáh. [712] The three India Office MSS. give Devasabhásanne, "near Devasabha." [713] The three India Office MSS., read purasatair, "hundreds of cities?" In any case varais should he varair. [714] Böhtlingk and Roth would read svadhishnyáni for swádhistháni in Taranga 120, 25. Here Brockhaus reads svádhisthán rishayas which I find in MS. No 1882; No 3003 has what, judging from the way shu is written in this MS., I take to be svadhishnyányashayas. No 2166 has what for similar reasons I take to be svadhishnánrishayas. The Sanskrit College MS. has svadhishtányrishayas. [715] For árádhayitum Nos. 1882 and 2166 give árádhayan which satisfies the metre. The Sanskrit College MS. has árádhitum. [716] I read akritapunyayoh, not having done meritorious actions. This is the reading of all the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. [717] The three India Office MSS. give susamiddham, which is perhaps preferable to the reading of Brockhaus's text. The Sanskrit College MS. gives susamitam. [718] MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 and the Sanskrit College MS. give lasannavanavádbhutá "is ever displaying new marvels." No. 3003 gives lasannavatavádbhutá. The t is no doubt a mere slip of the pen for n. [719] I read arghyapádyádi in sl. 180, 6; as in sl. 181, 6. The y is found in the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. I also read in sl. 179 svagirá datte devenánarthite vare, which I find in the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. [720] Two of the India Office MSS. read samayapratibandham; No. 3003 has samayaprativa; clearly some letters have been omitted. The sense would remain the same. [721] Pátála and Rasátala seem to be used indiscriminately to denote "the nether world" in this passage. Strictly speaking, Rasátala is one of the seven Pátálas. The words in sl. 189 which I have translated "regions of Pátála" mean literally "the Pátálas." In sl. 192 the three India Office MSS. read sudrishtayoh "having had a good look at them." [722] I read muchyate with the three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. [723] The kakôn kai gêraos alkar of Empedocles. Sir Thomas Browne in his Vulgar Errors, Book II. Ch. V, Sec. 11, makes mention of the supposed magic virtues of gems. He will not deny that bezoar is antidotal, but will not believe that a "sapphire is preservative against enchantments." [724] All the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read apatyáni for asatyáni. I have adopted it. In sl. 29 two MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. have sarvánga the other sarvángam. I do not understand the passage. [725] Perhaps we may compare this water with that of the river Styx. Hátakí appears to be the name of a river in the underworld. [726] The Sanskrit adjective corresponding to the noun Vidyádhara, is, of course, Vaidyádhara, but perhaps it is better to retain the noun in English. [727] I read áhritya for áhatya. The three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. have áhritya. [728] Probably the passage also means that they sunned themselves in his rays. [729] I read tapasyantí for na pasyantí. See Taranga 117, sl. 177 and ff. The three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. have tapasyantí. [730] All the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. read anupravishtám. [731] Gandharvarájáya in Brockhaus's text must be a misprint. MS. No. 1882 has Gandharvarádvyagraparigrahas which satisfies the metre and makes sense. This is also the reading of the Sanskrit College MS. No. 3003 seems to have the same but it is not quite clear. No. 2166 has vyadra for vyagra. [732] I read tadbháryásachivau; the three words should be joined together. [733] In the original we find inserted here--"Here ends the story of Padmávatí." [734] Káma, the god of love. [735] The central idea of the Birds of Aristophanes. [736] Here Böhtlingk and Roth would read svadhishnyány. Two of the three India Office MSS. seem to read this, judging from the way in which they form the combination shn. No. 1882 is not quite clear. [737] He is a kind of Hindu Solomon. [738] I adopt the correction of the Petersburg lexicographers, vaishamyato for vaisasyato. I find it in No. 1882 and in the Sanskrit College MS. [739] The word anísvara, when applied to the Buddhists, refers to their not believing in a Disposer, but its other meaning is "wanting in wealth." [740] I. q. Benares. [741] As Dr. Kern points out, there is a misprint here, namatyá should be namaty. [742] Or "not cruel in exacting tribute." [743] Glory is white according to the canons of Hindu rhetoric. [744] It might merely mean, cried "All-Hail," but here I think there is more in the expression than the usual salutation. [745] Dr. Kern would read abhyapújayat = honoured. The three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. confirm Brockhaus's text. [746] A most elaborate pun! There is an allusion to the sea having proved the refuge of the mountains that wished to preserve their wings, to the serpent Vásuki's having served as a rope with which to whirl round mount Mandara, when the sea was churned and produced Srí or Lakshmí. In this exploit Hari or Vishnu bore a distinguished part. [747] I. q., Ceylon. [748] Böhtlingk und Roth explain pratípsa in this passage as werben um. [749] Cp. Iliad XVIII, 417-420. I read pranartayantyau with Dr. Kern for the obvious misprint in the text. The y is found in the three India Office MSS. and in the Sanskrit College MS. [750] In the original trishná. [751] All the India Office MSS. give karnírathávatírná. [752] The word Gandharvá should be Gándharvá; see B. and R. s. v. har with upa and sam. No. 2166 has Gándháras; the other two MSS. agree with Brockhaus's text. [753] B. and R. explain the word khandakápálika as--"ein Stück von einem Kápálika, ein Quasi-kápálika." A kápálika is, according to Monier Williams s. v., a worshipper of Siva of the left-hand order, characterized by carrying skulls of men as ornaments, and by eating and drinking from them. [754] For aruntudais MS. No. 1882 has adadanstachcha, No. 2166 has adadattascha and 3003 adadattuscha. These point I suppose to a reading adadattachcha; which means "not paying what he owed." [755] Skrit. Brahma-Rákshasa. [756] They had heard Dágineya's story up to this point from his own lips. [757] This may be loosely translated "Terror of the gambling saloon." [758] See page 323 of this Vol. s. c. [759] Two of the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. have indu for Indra; the other has inmu. I have adopted indu. In sloka 100 for dadate No. 1882 and the Sanskrit College MS. read dadhate, which means that the gods' possession of wealth and power depends on the will of Siva. In sloka 89 the Sanskrit College MS. reads ekadá for the unmetrical devatáh. [760] Tryaksha can probably mean "having three dice," as well as "having three eyes." [761] Cp. Vol. II, p. 452. [762] Upáyau is a misprint for upáyayau as is evident from the MSS. [763] The three India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. give drishti. [764] i.e., Siva in this instance. [765] For the second ditya in sl. 132, b, MSS. Nos. 1882 and 2166 give navya, new. [766] Gold, diamond, sapphire, ruby and pearl. The Buddhists usually enumerate seven: see Burnouf, Lotus de La Bonne Loi, p. 319. [767] Cp. the story that begins on page 186 of this volume. [768] No. 1882 reads snapayata tatkshanát at the end of sl. 194, a. It seems to remove a tautology but is unmetrical. "Take us and cause us to bathe." The Sanskrit MS. had snapayata tatshanam. [769] I read dhúta for dyúta No. 1882 (the Taylor MS.) and the Sanskrit College MS. have dhúta; No. 3003 has dhuta; the other MS. does not contain the passage. [770] I read álikhya purusham bhúmau. This is the reading of the Taylor MS. the other has átikhya. The Sanskrit College MS. has álikhya purusham. [771] Both the India Office MSS. in which this passage is found give tatsámantam. So Vikramasakti would himself be a "dependent king." [772] Cp. the story of Sunda and Upasunda, Vol. I, p. 108; and Preller, Griechische Mythologie, Vol. I, p. 81, note 1. [773] For ete manorame No. 3003 and the Sanskrit College MS. have varakáranam; in order that I might find a husband for them. No. 1882 has váranam for kárunam. [774] For Jayanto MSS. Nos. 1882 and 3003 and the Sanskrit College MS. give hevákí, i. e., "full of longing". [775] i. e., conqueror of Indra. [776] It is just possible that sankhyád ought to be sákshád. [777] This expression is very similar to that in Tarnanga 120, sl. 80, b, to which Dr. Kern objects. [778] Dr. Kern would read sammánitavisrishteshu; and this is the reading of the Taylor MS. and of the Sanskrit College MS. No. 3003 has sammánitair. [779] For falling in love with a lady seen in a dream see Vol. I, pp. 276, and 576, and Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, pp. 45, 46 and 49. For falling in love with a lady seen in a picture see Vol. I, p. 490, Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 49, and Coelho's Contos Portuguezes, p. 109. [780] I read aratimán for ratimán in the Sanskrit College MS. The Taylor MS. has sarvatránratimán; the other agrees with Brockhaus. [781] I read pravesyaiva. [782] Compare Ralston's Russian Folk Tales, p. 97; in Waldau's Böhmische Märchen p. 444, there is a beautiful Amazon who fights with the prince on condition that if he is victorious she is to be his prisoner, but if she is victorious, he is to be put to death. Rohde in Der Griechische Roman, p. 148, gives a long list of "coy huntress maids." Spenser's Radigund bears a close resemblance to Malayavatí. [783] Sanskrit matha. [784] The Petersburg lexicographers would read paurastya; and I find this in the Taylor MS. and the Sanskrit College MS. The same MSS. read ambudasyámo for atha durdarsa. The latter word should be spelt durdarsha. [785] I read savirahajválo and sakása in sl. 72. [786] The two India Office MSS., that contain this passage, and the Sanskrit College MS. make the compound end in ravaih, so the command will be given by the cries of the swans. In sl. 71, for grathyantám No. 1882 and the Sanskrit College MS. give budhyantám. In sl. 73 for ákhyátim three MSS. give khyátim. [787] Sanskrit vihára. The tápasí of sl. 39 was therefore a Buddhist. Cp. Vol. I, p. 87. No. 3003 reads viháranirgatá which agrees with sl. 40. No. 1882 has viharanirgatam. The Sanskrit College MS. has viháranirgatam. [788] For gháta No. 1882 has tamah and No. 3003 váta. [789] This probably means that he started in the autumn. [790] No 3003 yathá chitre tathá svapne yathá svapne tathairatám vilokya sákshád; so too No. 1882. The Sanskrit College MS. agrees but omits yathá svapne. [791] The word that means "regret," may also mean "wave." [792] I follow B. and R., Dr. Kern would read sajjíkrita in the sense of "prepared": he takes kautukam in the sense of nuptial ceremonies. No. 1882 (the Taylor MS.) has mantú and No. 2003 has satyí. The Sanskrit College MS supports Brockhaus's text. [793] See Vol. I, pp. 199 and 515; and Vol. II, p. 265. [794] Cp. Iliad V, 265 and ff.; and (still better) Aeneid VII, 280, and ff. [795] Devíyasím is a misprint for davíyasím, as Dr. Kern points out. [796] In European superstition we find the notion that witches can fly through the air by anointing themselves with the fat of a toad. Veckenstedt, Wendische Märchen, p. 288. In Bartsch, Sagen und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, we read (Vol. II, p. 19) that Margretha Detloses confesses that she smeared her feet with some black stuff that Satan brought, and then said, Auf und darvan und nergens an. Anneke Mettinges (ibid. p. 23) smeared herself with yellow fat; Anneke Swarten (ibid. p. 27) with black stuff from an unused pot. [797] See page 104 of this volume. An older form of that story is perhaps the Saccamkirajátaka, No. 73, Fausböll, Vol. I, p. 323. Tho present story bears perhaps a closer resemblance to that of Androclus, Aulus Gellius, N. A. V, 14, the Indian form of which may be found in Miss Stokes's tale of "The Man who went to seek his fate." [798] Valí should of course be vallí. [799] Cp. Oesterley's Baitál Pachísí, p. 14; and the note on p. 176. In Aelian's Varia Historia, III, 19, there is a tree, the fruit of which makes an old man become gradually younger and younger until he reaches the antenatal state of non-existence. The passage is referred to by Rohde, Der Griechische Roman, p. 207. Baring Gould, in Appendix A to his Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, gives a very curious passage from the Bragda Mágus Saga, an Icelandic version of the romance of Maugis. Here we have a man named Vidförull who was in the habit of changing his skin and becoming young again. He changed his skin once when he was 330 years old, a second time at the age of 215, and a third time in the presence of Charlemagne. It is quite possible that the story in the text is a form of the fable of the Wandering Jew. [800] I read devakumárau. [801] I. e. Sea of virtues. [802] See Vol. I, p. 207, and Vol. II, p. 224, and Rohde's note on page 196 of Der Griechische Roman. This is probably the incident depicted on the Bharhat Stúpa. See General Cunningham's work, Plate XXXIV, Medallion 2. [803] A certain dark-coloured precious stone. B. and R. s. v. [804] The Petersburg lexicographers explain it as a statue of sála-wood. They explain stambhotkirna too as wie aus einem Pfosten geschnitten, wie eine Statue von Holz. But could not the figures be cut in stone, as the Bharhut sculptures are? [805] See Vol. I, pp. 86 and 573. The parallel to the story of the Wright's Chaste Wife is strikingly close. [806] Dr. Kern would read avidito. This is confirmed by the Sanskrit College MS. and by No. 1882; No. 3003 has avadito. [807] Both the India Office MSS. and the Sanskrit College MS. have yásyasi for páyasi. The latter would mean, "Where will you drink." [808] Cp. Vol. II, p. 63. [809] I insert subhagam before khád, from the Sanskrit College MS. [810] Both the India Office MSS read Vakrapura. The Sanskrit College MS. supports Brockhaus's text. [811] No. 1882 and the Sanskrit College MS. give tarhi for tvam hi and priyam for priyah. No 3003 agrees with the above MSS. in the first point and in the second with Brockhaus. [812] I read Pátaliputrakát. [813] The khatvánga, a club shaped like the foot of a bedstead, i. e., a staff with a skull at the top, considered as the weapon of Siva and carried by ascetics and Yogis. For karah the MSS give ravah. This would mean that the ascetic was beating his drum. The word in No. 1882 might be khah but is no doubt meant for ravah. [814] Cp. Vol. II, p. 243. [815] I separate pratijná from siddhim. [816] It is possible that this may be the original of the 4th story in the 10th day of the Decamerone. [817] See Vol. I, p. 212, and Lieutenant Temple's article Lamia in the Antiquary for August, 1882. Terrible man-eating Sirens are described in the Valáhassajátaka to which Dr. Morris called attention in a letter in the Academy. Cp. Schmidt's Griechische Märchen, p. 142. [818] No. 3003 and the Sanskrit College MS. give antahsthena for sambhramayya. No. 1882 has tva-tahsthena; an insect has devoured the intermediate letter. [819] This is substantially the same story as the second in chapter 77. [820] See Vol. I. pp. 465 and 578. [821] Vikrosám is a misprint for vikosám. The latter is found in MS. No. 1882 and the Sanskrit College MS. and, I think, in No. 3003; but the letter is not very well formed. [822] The word badhúns is evidently a misprint for bandhúns: as appears from the MSS. [823] This story is known in Europe, and may perhaps be the original source of Shakespeare's "All's Well that Ends Well." At any rate there is a slight resemblance in the leading idea of the two stories. It bears a close resemblance to the story of Sorfarina, No. 36 in Gonzenbach's Sicilianische Märchen, and to that of Sapia in the Pentamerone of Basile. In the Sicilian and in the Neapolitan tale a prince is angry with a young lady who, when teaching him, gave him a box on the ear, and marries her in order to avenge himself by ill-treating her; but finding that he has, without suspecting it, had three children by her, he is obliged to seek a reconciliation. Dr. Köhler in his note on the Sicilian tale gives no other parallel than Basile's tale, which is the 6th of the Vth day, Vol. II, p. 204 of Liebrecht's translation. [824] I think we should read ushne. I believe that Nos. 1882 and 3003 have this, judging from the way in which shn is usually formed in those MSS. [825] Cp. Ralston's Tibetan Tales, p. 89. [826] I read pratyayo na me which I find in the Taylor MS. and which makes sense. I take the words as part of the boy's speech. "It is untrue; I do not believe it." But vakshyasyapratyayena me would also make sense. The Sanskrit College MS. supports Brockhaus's text. [827] In the original there is the following note, "Here ends the tale of King Vikramáditya." [828] Having reached the end of my translation, I am entitled to presume that this epithet refers to the extraordinary length of the Kathá Sarit Ságara. 
15476	----	The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 8 Karna-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 Om! Having bowed down unto Narayana, and unto that most exalted of male beings, Nara, and unto the goddess Sarasvati also, must the word Jaya be uttered. Vaishampayana said, "After Drona had been slain, O monarch, the royal warriors (of the Kaurava army) headed by Duryodhana, with hearts filled with great anxiety, all repaired to Drona's son. Lamenting the loss of Drona, and deprived of energy in consequence of their cheerlessness, they sat around the son of Sharadvata's daughter, afflicted with grief. Comforted for a little while by considerations founded upon the scriptures, when night came, those rulers of Earth proceeded to their respective tents. Those lords of Earth, however, O thou of Kuru's race, could feel no happiness in their abodes. Thinking of that immense slaughter, they could not also sleep. The Suta's son (Karna), and king Suyodhana and Duhshasana and Shakuni, in special, could not compose themselves to sleep. Those four passed that night together in Duryodhana's tent, reflecting upon the woes they had inflicted upon the high-souled Pandavas. Formerly they had brought Draupadi, plunged into woe on account of the match at dice, into the assembly. Recollecting it they experienced great regret, their hearts being filled with anxiety. Thinking of those sufferings inflicted (upon the Pandavas) in consequence of the gambling match they passed that night in sorrow, O king, as if it were really a hundred years. Then when morning came, observing the dictates of the ordinance, all of them duly went through the customary rites. Having gone through these customary rites, and comforted to some extent, O Bharata, they ordered their troops to be arrayed, and then came out for battle, having made Karna their generalissimo by tying the auspicious thread round his wrists, and having caused many foremost of Brahmanas, by presents of vessels of curds, clarified butter, akshatas, coins of gold, kine, jewels and gems, and costly robes, to pray for their victory, and having caused heralds and musicians, and panegyrists to adore them with hymns about victory. The Pandavas also, O king, having gone through their morning rites, issued from their camp, resolved on battle. Then commenced a fierce battle, making the hair to stand on end, between the Kurus and the Pandavas, each desirous of vanquishing the other. During the commandership of Karna, the battle that took place between the Kuru and the Pandava troops was exceedingly fierce and lasted for two days. Then Vrisha (Karna) having made an immense slaughter of his enemies in battle, was at last slain in the sight of the Dhartarashtras, by Arjuna. Then Sanjaya, repairing to Hastinapura told Dhritarashtra all that had happened at Kurujangala." Janamejaya said, "Having heard of the fall of Bhishma and that other mighty car-warrior, Drona, the old king Dhritarashtra the son of Ambika had been afflicted with great grief. How, O foremost of Brahmanas, could he, plunged into grief, support his life having heard of the death of Karna, that well-wisher of Duryodhana? How indeed, could that descendant of Kuru support his life when he, upon whom that monarch had rested the hope of his sons' victory, had fallen? When the king did not lay down his life even after hearing of Karna's death, I think that it is very difficult for men to yield up life even under circumstances of great grief! O Brahmana, when the king did not yield up his life after hearing of the fall of the venerable son of Shantanu, of Bahlika and Drona and Somadatta and Bhurishrava, as also other friends and his sons and grandsons, I think, O regenerate one, that the act of yielding up one's life is exceedingly difficult! Tell me all these in detail and as they actually happened! I am not satiated with hearing the high achievements of my ancestors!" 2 Vaishampayana said, "Upon the fall of Karna, O monarch, the son of Gavalgana, with a cheerless heart, set out that night for Nagapura, on steeds that rivalled the wind in speed. Arrived at Hastinapura, with a heart filled with deep anxiety, he proceeded to Dhritarashtra's abode which no longer teemed with kinsmen and friends. Beholding the king deprived of all energy by grief, joining his hands he worshipped, with a bend of his head, the monarch's feet. Having duly worshipped king Dhritarashtra, he uttered an exclamation of woe and then began, 'I am Sanjaya, O lord of Earth! Art thou not happy? I hope thou art not stupefied, having through thy own faults fallen into such distress? Counsels for thy good had been uttered by Vidura and Ganga's son and Keshava. I hope thou feelest no pain now, remembering thy rejection of those counsels? Counsels for thy good had also been uttered in the assembly by Rama and Narada and Kanwa and others. I hope thou feelest no pain now, remembering their rejection by thee? I hope thou feelest no pain, remembering the slaughter in battle, by the foe, of Bhishma and Drona and others, those friends that were ever engaged in thy good?' Unto the Suta's son who with joined hands was telling him so, the monarch afflicted with grief and drawing a long and hot breath, said these words. "Dhritarashtra said, 'Hearing, O Sanjaya, of the fall of the heroic son of Ganga, that warrior of all celestial weapons, as also of the fall of that foremost of all bowmen, Drona, my heart feeleth great pain! That hero endued with great energy and born of the Vasus themselves, who slew every day 10,000 car-warriors clad in mail, that high-souled one unto whom Bhrigu's son had given the highest weapons, that warrior who in his childhood had been trained in the science of the bow by Rama, alas, even he hath been slain by Yajnasena's son Shikhandi protected by the Pandavas! At this my heart is greatly pained! That hero through whose grace those mighty car-warriors, the royal sons of Kunti, as also many other lords of Earth, have become maharathas, alas, hearing of the slaughter of that great bowman of sure aim, Drona, by Dhrishtadyumna, my heart is exceedingly pained! Those two had not in the world a person equal to them in (knowledge and use of) the four kinds of weapons! Alas, hearing of the slaughter of these two, Bhishma and Drona, in battle my heart is exceedingly pained! That warrior who had not in the three worlds a person equal to him in knowledge of weapons, alas, hearing of the slaughter of that hero, Drona, what did the people of my side do? After the high-souled son of Pandu, Dhananjaya, exerting himself with prowess, had despatched unto Yama's abode the strong force of the samsaptakas, after the Narayana weapon of the intelligent son of Drona had been baffled, and after the (Kaurava) divisions had begun to fly away, what, indeed, did the people of my side do? I think that, after Drona's death my troops, flying away and sinking in an ocean of grief, resembled shipwrecked mariners struggling on the bosom of the vast deep. What also, O Sanjaya, became the colour of the faces of Duryodhana, and Karna, and Kritavarma the chief of the Bhojas and Shalya, the ruler of the Madras, and of my remaining sons, and of the others, when the Kuru divisions fled away from the field? Tell me all this as it truly happened in battle, O son of Gavalgana, and describe to me the prowess put forth by the Pandavas and the warriors of my side!'" "Sanjaya said, 'O sire, hearing all that has happened unto the Kauravas through thy fault, thou shouldst not feel any anguish! He that is wise never feeleth any pain at what Destiny bringeth! And since Destiny is unconquerable, human purposes may or may not become attainable. Hence, he that is wise never feeleth pain on the acquisition or the reverse of the objects cherished by him.'" "Dhritarashtra said, 'I do not feel great pain, O Sanjaya! I regard all this to be the result of Destiny! Tell me all that thou wishest!'" 3 "Sanjaya said, 'Upon the fall of the great bowman Drona, thy sons, those mighty car-warriors, became pale and deprived of their senses. Armed with weapons, all of them, O monarch, hung down their heads. Afflicted with grief and without looking at one another, they stood perfectly silent. Beholding them with such afflicted countenances, thy troops, O Bharata, themselves perturbed by grief, vacantly gazed upwards. Seeing Drona slain in battle, the weapons of many of them, O king, dyed with blood, dropped from their hands. Innumerable weapons, again, O Bharata, still retained in the grasp of the soldiers, seemed in their pendent attitude, to resemble falling meteors in the sky. Then king Duryodhana, O monarch, beholding that army of thine thus standing as if paralysed and lifeless, said, "Relying upon the might of your army I have summoned the Pandavas to battle and caused this passage-at-arms to commence! Upon the fall of Drona, however, the prospect seems to be cheerless. Warriors engaged in battle all die in battle. Engaged in battle, a warrior may have either victory or death. What can be strange then in this (viz., the death of Drona)? Fight ye with faces turned towards every direction. Behold now the high-souled Karna, the son of Vikartana, that great bowman of mighty strength, careering in battle, using his celestial weapons! Through fear of that warrior in battle, that coward, viz., Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, always turns back like a small deer at the sight of a lion! It is he who, by the ordinary methods of human battle, brought the mighty Bhimasena endued with the strength of 10,000 elephants to that plight! It is he who, uttering a loud roar, slew with his invincible dart the brave Ghatotkaca of a 1,000 illusions and well-acquainted with celestial weapons! Behold today the inexhaustible might of arms of that intelligent warrior of sure aim and invincible energy! Let the sons of Pandu behold today the prowess of both Ashvatthama and Karna resembling that of Vishnu and Vasava! All of you are singly able to slay the sons of Pandu with their troops in battle! How much more then are you capable, when united together, of that feat! Endued with great energy and accomplished in weapons, you will today behold one another engaged in the achievement of mighty tasks!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Having said these words, O sinless one, thy son Duryodhana, with his brothers, made Karna the generalissimo (of the Kuru army). Obtaining the command, the mighty car-warrior Karna, so fierce in battle, uttered loud roars and fought with the foe. He caused, O sire, a great carnage among the Srinjayas, the Pancalas, the Kekayas, and the Videhas. From his bow issued innumerable lines of arrows, one close behind the wings of another, like flights of bees. Having afflicted the Pancalas and the Pandavas endued with great activity, and slain thousands of warriors, he was at last slain by Arjuna!'" 4 Vaishampayana said, "Hearing this intelligence, O monarch, Dhritarashtra the son of Ambika, feeling the acme of grief, regarded Suyodhana to be already dead. Exceedingly agitated, the king fell down on the Earth like an elephant deprived of its senses. When that foremost of the monarchs, greatly agitated, fell down on the Earth, loud wails were uttered, O best of the Bharatas, by the ladies (of the royal household). That noise was so loud that it seemed to fill the entire Earth. Immersed in a deep ocean of woe, the Bharata ladies, with hearts exceedingly agitated and scorched by grief, wept aloud. Approaching the king, Gandhari, O bull of Bharata's race, and the other ladies of the household, all fell down on the earth, deprived of their senses. Then Sanjaya, O king, began to comfort those ladies stricken with grief, bathed in tears, and reft of consciousness. Comforted (by Sanjaya), those ladies began to tremble repeatedly like a plantain grove shaken by the wind. Vidura also, sprinkling that descendant of Kuru with water, began to comfort the puissant monarch who had knowledge only for his eye. Slowly restored to consciousness, and understanding that the ladies of the household were there, the king, O monarch, remained perfectly silent for some time like one reft of reason. Having reflected then for some time, and repeatedly drawn long breaths, the king censured his own sons and applauded the Pandavas. Censuring also his own intelligence and that of Shakuni the son of Subala, the king, having reflected for a long time, began to tremble repeatedly. Controlling his mind once more, the king, with sufficient fortitude, questioned his charioteer Sanjaya the son of Gavalgana. "Dhritarashtra said, 'I have heard, O Sanjaya, all that thou hast said. Hath my son Duryodhana, O Suta, who is ever desirous of victory, already gone to Yama's abode, despairing of success? Tell me truly, O Sanjaya, all this even if thou wilt have to repeat it!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Thus addressed by the king, O Janamejaya, the Suta said unto him, 'The mighty car-warrior Vaikartana, O monarch, hath been slain with his sons and brothers, and other Suta warriors, all of whom were mighty bowmen ready to lay down their lives in battle! Duhshasana also hath been slain by the renowned son of Pandu. Indeed, his blood also hath been, from wrath, drunk by Bhimasena in battle!'" 5 Vaishampayana said, "Hearing these words, O monarch, Ambika's son Dhritarashtra, with heart agitated by grief, addressed his driver Sanjaya, saying, 'Though the evil policy, O sire, of my son of little foresight, Vikartana's son hath been slain! This intelligence is cutting the very core of my heart! I am desirous of crossing this sea of grief! Remove my doubts, therefore, by telling me who are still alive and who are dead amongst the Kurus and the Pandavas!' "Sanjaya said, 'Endued with great prowess and invincible in battle, Bhishma the son of Shantanu, O king, having slain large numbers of Srinjayas and Pancalas, hath been slain after ten days. The mighty and invincible bowman Drona of the golden car, having slaughtered the Pancala divisions in battle, hath been slain. Having slaughtered the half of what remained after the carnage by Bhishma and the illustrious Drona, Vikartana's son Karna hath been slain. Endued with great strength, O monarch, prince Vivingsati, having slain hundreds of Anarta warriors in battle, hath been slain. Thy heroic son Vikarna, deprived of steeds and weapons, stood, facing the foe, remembering the duties of Kshatriyas. Remembering the many foul wrongs inflicted upon him by Duryodhana, and bearing in mind his own vow, Bhimasena hath slain him. Possessed of great might, Vinda and Anuvinda, the two princes of Avanti, after achieving the most difficult feats, have gone to Yama's abode. That hero who had under his sway ten kingdoms, having Sindhu for their chief, him who was ever obedient to thee, Jayadratha of mighty energy, O king, Arjuna hath slain after vanquishing eleven Akshauhinis of troops with his keen arrows. Endued with great activity and incapable of being easily defeated in battle, the son of Duryodhana, ever obedient to his sire's commands, hath been slain by the son of Subhadra. The brave son of Duhshasana, possessed of mighty arms and fierce in battle, hath been despatched to Yama's abode by Draupadi's son exerting himself with great prowess! The ruler of the Kiratas and other dwellers of the lowlands on the seacoast, the much respected and dear friend of the chief of the celestials himself, the virtuous king Bhagadatta, who was ever devoted to Kshatriya duties, hath been despatched to Yama's abode by Dhananjaya exerting himself great with prowess. The kinsman of the Kauravas, the son of Somadatta, the brave and celebrated Bhurishrava, O king, hath been slain by Satyaki in battle. The Amvashtha king Srutayus, that foremost of Kshatriyas, who used to career in battle most fearlessly, hath been slain by Arjuna. Thy son Duhshasana, accomplished in arms and invincible in battle, and who was always wrathful, hath, O monarch, been slain by Bhimasena. Sudakshina, O king, who had many thousands of wonderful elephants, hath been slain in battle by Arjuna. The ruler of the Kosolas, having slain many hundreds of foes, hath himself been despatched to Yama's abode by Subhadra's son exerting himself with prowess. Having fought with many thousands of foes and with the mighty car-warrior Bhimasena himself, thy son Citrasena hath been slain by Bhimasena. The brave younger brother of the ruler of the Madras, that enhancer of the fears of foes, that handsome warrior armed with sword and shield, hath been slain by Subhadra's son. He who was equal to Karna himself in battle, Karna's son Vrishasena, accomplished in arms, of mighty energy and steady prowess, hath, in the very sight of Karna, been despatched to Yama's abode by Dhananjaya who put forth his prowess remembering the slaughter of his own son Abhimanyu and bearing in mind the vow he had made. That lord of Earth, Srutayus, who always displayed a deep-rooted antipathy towards the Pandavas, hath been slain by Partha who reminded him of that antipathy before taking his life. Shalya's son of great prowess, O sire, Rukmaratha, hath, O king, been slain in battle by Sahadeva although the former happened to be the latter's brother, having been the son of the latter's maternal uncle. The old king Bhagiratha, and Vrihatkshatra the ruler of the Kaikeyas both endued with great prowess and might and energy, have been slain. Bhagadatta's son, O king who was possessed of great wisdom and great strength, hath been slain by Nakula who always careers in battle with the activity of the hawk. Thy grandsire Bahlika, possessed of great might and prowess, hath, with all his followers, been slain by Bhimasena. The mighty Jayatsena the son of Jarasandha, the prince of the Magadhas, O king, hath been slain in battle by the high-souled son of Subhadra. Thy son Durmukha, O king, as also thy other son Dussaha, that mighty car-warrior, both of whom were regarded as heroes, have been slain by Bhimasena with his mace. Durmarshana and Durvisaha and the mighty car-warrior Durjaya, having achieved the most difficult feats, have gone to Yama's abode. The two brothers Kalinga and Vrishaka, who were invincible in battle, having achieved very difficult feats have gone to Yama's abode. Thy counsellor Vrishavarman of the Suta caste, endued with great energy, hath been despatched to Yama's abode by Bhimasena exerting himself with prowess. So also king Paurava who was endued with the might of 10,000 elephants, hath, with all his followers, been slain by Pandu's son Arjuna. The Vasatis, O king, numbering 2,000, effectual smiters of all, as also the Surasenas endued with prowess, have all been slain in battle. The Abhishahas, clad in mail, capable of smiting effectually, and fierce in battle, also the Sivis, those foremost of car-warriors, with the Kalingas, have all been slain. Those other heroes also, (the Narayana Gopas) who live and grew in Gokula, who were exceedingly wrathful in battle, and who never retreated from the field have been slain by Savyasaci. Many thousands of Srenis, as also the samsaptakas, approaching Arjuna, have all repaired to the abode of Yama. Thy two brothers-in-law, viz., the princes Vrishaka and Achala, who were endued with great prowess, have for thy sake been slain by Savyasaci. King Shalva of mighty arms and fierce deeds, who was a great bowman both in name and feats, hath been slain by Bhimasena. Oghavat, O king, and Vrishanta, fighting together in battle and exerting themselves with great vigour for the sake of their ally, have both repaired to Yama's abode. So also that foremost of car-warriors, viz., Kshemadhurti, O monarch, hath been slain in battle by Bhimasena with his mace. So also that great bowman, viz., the mighty king Jalasandha, after causing an immense carnage, hath been slain by Satyaki in battle. That prince of Rakshasas, viz., Alayudha, unto whose vehicle were yoked asses (of monstrous shape) hath been despatched to Yama's abode by Ghatotkaca exerting himself with great prowess. Radha's son of the Suta caste, and those mighty car-warriors who were his brothers, and the Kaikeyas, the Malavas, the Madrakas the Dravidas of fierce prowess, the Yaudheyas, the Lalittyas, the Kshudrakas, the Usinaras, the Tundikeras, the Savitriputras, the Easterners, the Northerners, the Westerners, and the Southerners, O sire, have all been slain by Savyasaci. Large bands of foot-soldiers, myriads upon myriads of steeds, large number of car-warriors, and many huge elephants, have been slain. Many heroes also, with standards and weapons, and with armour and attire and ornaments, and endued with perseverance and possessed of high birth and good conduct, have been slain in battle by Partha who is never fatigued with exertion. Others, endued with immeasurable might, and desirous of slaying their foes, (have met with a similar fate). These and many other kings, numbering thousands, with their followers, have, O monarch, been slain in battle. That which thou askest me I am answering now. Even thus did the destruction take place when Arjuna and Karna fought. Even as Mahendra slew Vritra, and Rama slew Ravana; even as Krishna slew Naraka or Mura in battle; even as the mighty Rama of Bhrigu's race slew the heroic Kartavirya, invincible in battle, with all his kinsmen and friends, after fighting a terrible battle celebrated through the three worlds; even as Skanda slew (the Asura) Mahisha, and Rudra slew (the Asura) Andhaka, even so hath Arjuna, O king, in single combat, slain, with all his kinsmen, that foremost of smiters, viz., Karna, who was invincible in battle and upon whom the Dhartarashtras had placed their hopes of victory, and who was the great cause of the hostility with the Pandavas! Pandu's son hath now accomplished that which at one time thou couldst not believe him capable of accomplishing, although, O monarch, well-meaning friends failed not to apprise thee of it. That calamity, fraught with great destruction, hath now come! Thou, O king wishing them well, hast heaped those evils on the heads of thy covetous sons! The fruit of those evils is now manifesting itself!'" 6 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Thou hast, O son, mentioned the names of those of my side that have been slain in battle by the Pandavas. Tell me now, O Sanjaya, the names of those amongst the Pandavas that have been slain by the people of my side!' "Sanjaya said, 'The Kuntis possessed of great prowess in battle, endued with great energy and great might, have been slain in fight by Bhishma, with all their kinsmen and advisers. The Narayanas, the Valabhadras, and hundreds of other heroes, all devoted (to the Pandavas) have been slain in battle by the heroic Bhishma. Satyajit, who was equal to the diadem-decked Arjuna himself in battle as regards energy and might, hath been slain in battle by Drona of sure aim. Many mighty bowmen among the Pancalas, all of whom were skilled in battle, encountering Drona, have repaired to Yama's abode. So the two kings Virata and Drupada, both venerable in years, who exerted themselves with great prowess for their ally, have, with their sons, been slain in battle by Drona. That invincible hero, viz., Abhimanyu, who, though a child in years, was still equal in battle to Arjuna or Keshava or Baladeva, O lord, that, warrior who was highly accomplished in battle, after making an immense slaughter of the foe, was at last encompassed by six foremost of car-warriors and slain by them. Unable to resist Arjuna himself, they thus slew Arjuna's son! Deprived of his car, that hero, viz., the son of Subhadra, still stayed in battle, remembering the duties of a Kshatriya. At last, O king, Duhshasana's son slew him on the field. The slayer of the Patachchatras, viz., the handsome son of Amvashtha, surrounded by a large force, had put forth all his prowess for the sake of his allies. Having made a great slaughter among the foe, he was encountered by Duryodhana's son, the brave Lakshmana, in battle and despatched to Yama's abode. The mighty bowman Vrihanta, accomplished in arms and invincible in battle, hath been despatched to Yama's abode by Duhshasana, exerting himself with great prowess. The two kings Manimat and Dandadhara, both of whom were invincible in battle and had put forth their prowess for their allies, have been slain by Drona. Ansumat the ruler of the Bhojas, that mighty car-warrior at the head of his own forces, hath been despatched to Yama's abode by Drona exerting himself with great prowess. Citrasena, the ruler of the sea-coast, with his son, O Bharata, hath been forcibly despatched by Samudrasena to Yama's abode. Another ruler of a maritime country, viz., Nila, and Vyaghradatta of great energy, have both, O king, been despatched to Yama's abode by Ashvatthama. Citrayudha and Citrayodhin, after making a great slaughter, have both been slain in battle by Vikarna exerting himself with great prowess and displaying diverse manoeuvres of his car. The chief of the Kaikeyas, who was equal to Vrikodara himself in battle and surrounded by Kaikeya warriors, has been slain by Kaikeya, the brother by the brother. Janamejaya of the hilly country, endued with great prowess and accomplished in encounters with the mace, hath, O king, been slain by thy son Durmukha. Those two foremost of men, viz., the brothers Rochamana, like two brilliant planets, have together been despatched to heaven by Drona with his shafts. Many other kings, O monarch, endued with great prowess, have fought (for the Pandavas). Having achieved the most difficult feats, all of them have gone to Yama's abode. Purujit and Kuntibhoja, the two maternal uncles of Savyasaci, have been despatched by Drona with shafts to such regions as are attained by death in battle. Abhibhu of the Kasis, at the head of many of his followers, hath been obliged by Vasudana's son to lay down his life in battle. Yudhamanyu of immeasurable prowess, and Uttamauja of great energy, after slaying hundreds of heroic warriors, have themselves been slain by our men. The Pancala prince Mitravarman, O Bharata, those two foremost of bowmen, have been despatched to Yama's abode by Drona. Shikhandi's son Kshatradeva, that foremost of warriors, possessed of great bravery, hath, O king, been slain by thy grandson Lakshmana, O sire! The two heroes Sucitra and Citravarman, who were sire and son and endued with great might, and who careered fearlessly in battle, have been slain by Drona. Vardhakshemi, O monarch, who was like the ocean at full tide, having had his weapons exhausted in battle, hath at last obtained undisturbed peace. That foremost of Sutas, viz., Senavindu, having consumed many foes in battle, hath, at last, O king been slain by Bahlika. Dhrishtaketu, O monarch, that foremost of car-warriors among the Cedis, after accomplishing the most difficult feats, hath repaired to the abode of Yama. Similarly, the heroic Satyadhriti, endued with great prowess, having made a great slaughter in battle for the sake of the Pandavas, has been despatched to Yama's abode. That lord of Earth, viz., Suketu, the son of Shishupala, having slain many foes, hath at last been slain by Drona in battle. Virata's son Sankha, as also Uttara of great strength, having accomplished the most difficult feats, have repaired to Yama's abode. Similarly, Satyadhriti of the Matsyas, and Madiraswa of great energy, and Suryadatta possessed of great prowess, have all been slain by Drona with his shafts. Srenimat also, O monarch, having fought with great prowess and accomplished the most difficult feats, hath repaired to Yama's abode. Similarly, the chief of the Magadhas, that slayer of hostile heroes, endued with great energy and acquainted with the highest weapons, sleepeth on the field of battle, slain by Bhishma. Vasudana also, having made an immense carnage in battle, has been despatched to Yama's abode by Bharadwaja's son exerting himself with great prowess. These and many other mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas have been slain by Drona exerting himself with great energy. I have now told them all that thou hadst asked me.'" 7 "Dhritarashtra said, 'When all the foremost of my warriors, O Sanjaya have perished, I do not think that the remnant of my army will not perish! When those two heroes, those two mighty bowmen, those two foremost of the Kurus, Bhishma and Drona, have been slain, what use can I any longer have with life? I cannot also brook the death of Radha's son, that ornament of battle, the might of whose arms was as great as that of 10,000 elephants! O foremost of speakers, tell me now, O Suta, who are yet alive in my army after the death of all the foremost heroes! Thou hast told me the names of those that have fallen. It seems, however, to me that those who are still alive are almost all dead!' "Sanjaya said, 'That hero O king, to whom Drona, that foremost of Brahmanas, imparted many blazing, celestial, and mighty weapons of the four kinds, that mighty car-warrior, possessed of skill and lightness of hands, that hero of firm grasp, strong weapons, and powerful shafts, that high-souled son of Drona, capable of shooting to a great distance, is still on the field, desirous of battling for thy sake. That dweller of the Anarta country, that son of Hridika, that mighty car-warrior, that foremost one among the Satwatas, that chief of the Bhojas, Kritavarma, accomplished in arms, is on the field, desirous of battle. Artayana's son, dauntless in battle, that first of warriors, that foremost of all yet on thy side, he, that abandoned his own sister's sons, the Pandavas, for making his own words true, that hero endued with great activity who promised in the presence of Yudhishthira that he would in battle depress the proud spirit of Karna, that invincible Shalya, who is equal unto Sakra himself in energy, is still on the field, desirous of battling for thy sake. Accompanied by his own force consisting of Ajaneyas, Saindhavas, mountaineers, dwellers of riparian regions, Kambojas, and Vanayus, the king of the Gandharas stayeth on the field, desirous of battling for thy sake. Sharadvata's son called Gautama, O king, endued with mighty arms and capable of fighting with diverse weapons in diverse beautiful ways, taking up a beautiful and large bow capable of bearing great strain, stayeth on the field, desirous of battle. That mighty car-warrior, the son of the ruler of the Kaikeyas, riding on a goodly car equipped with standard and goodly steeds, stayeth on the field, O chief of Kuru's race, for battling for thy sake. Thy son also, that foremost of heroes in Kuru's race, Purumitra, O king, riding on his car possessed of the effulgence of fire or the Sun, stayeth on the field, like the Sun himself shining brilliantly in the cloudless firmament. Duryodhana also, endued with great energy, in the midst of an elephant force and accompanied by many foremost of combatants, stayeth on his car adorned with gold, desirous of engaging in battle. In the midst of many kings, that foremost of men, possessed of the splendour of a lotus, looked resplendent in his beautiful armour of gold like a fire with little smoke or the Sun emerged from the clouds. So also thy sons Sushena, armed with sword and shield, and the heroic Satyasena, are staying with Citrasena, their hearts full of joy and themselves desirous of battle. Endued with modesty, the Bharata princes Citrayudha, Srutavarman, and Jaya, Dala, and Satyavrata, and Dussala, all of whom are possessed of great might, stay on the field, desirous of battle. The ruler of the Kaitavyas, that prince proud of his courage, and capable of fearlessly careering in battle and slaying his foes, possessing foot-soldiers and cavalry, and elephants and cars, stayeth on the field, desirous of battling for thy sake. The heroic Srutayu and Srutayudha, and Citrangada and Citravarman, those foremost of men, those proud warriors capable of smiting effectually and possessed of sureness of aim, stay on the field, desirous of battle. The high-souled Satyasandha, the son of Karna, stayeth on the field, desirous of battle. Two other sons of Karna, possessing a knowledge of high weapons and endued with great lightness of hands, are both staying, O king, at the head of forces that are large and incapable of being pierced by warriors of little energy, desirous of battling for thy sake. Accompanied by these heroes and by many other foremost of warriors, O king, that are possessed of immeasurable might, the Kuru king (Duryodhana) is staying like a second Indra in the midst of his elephant division in expectation of victory!' "Dhritarashtra said, 'Thou hast told me duly all that are alive both amongst us and the foe. From this I plainly see on which side the victory will be. Indeed, it may be inferred from the facts.'" Vaishampayana continued, "While saying this, Dhritarashtra the son of Ambika, having learnt that only a small portion of his army was alive, for all his foremost of warriors had died, felt his heart to be exceedingly agitated by grief. The king swooned away. Partially restored to his senses, he addressed Sanjaya, saying, 'Wait for a moment!' And the king said, 'O son, having heard of this dire calamity, my heart is greatly agitated. My senses are being stupefied, and my limbs are about to be paralysed!' Having said these words, Dhritarashtra the son of Ambika, that lord of earth, lost his senses and fell down on the earth." 8 Janamejaya said, "Having heard of Karna's fall and the slaughter of his sons, what, O foremost of regenerate ones, did the king say, after he had been a little comforted? Indeed, poignant was the grief that he experienced, arising from the calamity that befell his sons! Tell me, I ask thee, all that the king said on that occasion!" Vaishampayana said, "Hearing of the slaughter of Karna that was incredible and astounding, that was dreadful and capable of paralysing the senses of all creatures, that looked like the downfall of Meru, or a never-to-be-believed clouding of the intellect of the wise Shukra, or the defeat of Indra of terrible feats at the hands of his foes, or the falling down on the Earth of the resplendent Sun from the firmament, or a scarcely-to-be-comprehended drying up of the ocean, that receptacle of inexhaustible waters, or the annihilation, perfectly astounding, of the earth, the firmament, the points of the compass, and the waters, or the fruitlessness of acts both virtuous and sinful, king Dhritarashtra, having earnestly reflected for some time on it, thought that his army had been annihilated. Thinking that other creatures also, as unslayable as Karna, would meet with a similar fate, king Dhritarashtra the son of Ambika, scorched with grief and sighing like a snake, with limbs almost palsied, long breaths, highly cheerless, and filled with melancholy, began to lament, saying, 'Oh!' and 'Alas!' And the king said, 'O Sanjaya, the heroic son of Adhiratha was endued with the prowess of the lion or the elephant! His neck was as thick as that of a bull, and his eyes, gait, and voice were like the bull's! Of limbs as hard as the thunderbolt, that young man, like a bull never flying away from a bull, never desisted from battle even if his foe happened to be the great Indra himself! At the sound of his bow-string and palms and at the whizz of his arrowy showers men and steeds and cars and elephants fled away from battle. Relying upon that mighty-armed one, that slayer of large bands of foes, that warrior of unfading glory, Duryodhana had provoked hostilities with those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Pandu! How then could Karna, that foremost of car-warriors, that tiger among men, that hero of irresistible onset, be forcibly slain by Partha in battle? Relying on the might of his own arms, he always disregarded Keshava of unfading glory, and Dhananjaya, and the Vrishnis, and all other foes! Often did he use to say unto the foolish, avaricious crestfallen, kingdom-coveting, and afflicted Duryodhana even such words as these, "Alone, I shall, in battle, throw down from their foremost of cars, those two invincible warriors united together, the wielder of sarnga and the wielder of Gandiva!" He had subjugated many invincible and mighty foes--the Gandharas, the Madrakas, the Matsyas, the Trigartas, the Tanganas, the Khasas, the Pancalas, the Videhas, the Kulindas, the Kasi-kosalas, the Suhmas, the Angas, the Nishadhas, the Pundras, the Kichakas, the Vatsas, the Kalingas, the Taralas, the Asmakas, and the Rishikas. Subjugating all these brave races, by means of his keen and whetted arrows equipped with Kanka feathers, that foremost of car-warriors, Radha's son, had caused all of them to pay tribute to us for the aggrandisement of Duryodhana. Alas, how could that warrior acquainted with celestial weapons, that protector of armies, Karna the son of Vikartana, called also Vrisha, of mighty energy, be slain in battle by his foes, the heroic and mighty sons of Pandu? As Indra is the foremost of gods, Karna was the foremost of men. In the three worlds no third person has been heard of by us to be like them. Amongst steeds, Uccaisravas is the foremost; amongst Yakshas, Vaishravana is the foremost; amongst celestials, Indra is the foremost; amongst smiters, Karna was the foremost. Unvanquished by even the most heroic and the mightiest of monarchs, he had, for Duryodhana's aggrandisement, subjugated the whole earth. The ruler of Magadha, having by conciliation and honours obtained Karna for a friend, had challenged all the Kshatriyas of the world, except the Kauravas and the Yadavas, to battle. Hearing that Karna hath been slain by Savyasaci in single combat, I am plunged in an ocean of woe like a wrecked vessel in the vast deep! Indeed, hearing that that foremost of men, that best of car-warriors, hath been slain in single combat, I am sinking in an ocean of grief like a person without a raft in the sea! When, O Sanjaya, I do not die of such grief, I think my heart is impenetrable and made of something harder than the thunderbolt. Hearing of the defeat and humiliation of kinsmen and relatives and allies, who else in the world, O Suta, save my wretched self, would not yield up his life? I desire to have poison or fire or a fall from the summit of a mountain, I am unable, O Sanjaya, to bear this heavy load of grief!'" 9 "Sanjaya said, 'The world regards thee to be equal to Yayati the son of Nahusha, in beauty, birth, fame, asceticism, and learning! Indeed, in learning, thou art, O king, like a great rishi, highly accomplished and crowned with success! Summon thy fortitude! Do not yield to grief!' "Dhritarashtra said, 'I think destiny is supreme, and exertion fruitless since even Karna, who was like a shala tree, hath been slain in battle! Having slaughtered Yudhishthira's army and the large throngs of the Pancala car-warriors, having scorched all the points of the compass by means of his arrowy showers, having stupefied the Parthas in battle like the wielder of the thunderbolt stupefying the Asuras, alas, how could that mighty car-warrior, slain by the foe, fall down on the earth like a large tree uprooted by the tempest? Indeed, I do not behold the end of my sorrows like a drowning man unable to see the end of the ocean. My anxieties are increasing, I do not desire to live, hearing of Karna's death and Phalguni's victory! Indeed O Sanjaya, I regard the slaughter of Karna to be highly incredible. Without doubt, this hard heart of mine is made of the essence of adamant, for it does not burst into a 1,000 fragments upon hearing of the fall of Karna! Without doubt, the gods ordained, before (my birth), a very long life for me, since sore distressed on hearing of the death of Karna, I do not die! Fie, O Sanjaya, on this life of one that is destitute of friends. Brought today, O Sanjaya, to this wretched plight, miserably shall I have to live, of foolish understanding that I am, pitied by all! Having formerly been the honoured of the whole world, how shall I, O Suta, live, overridden by foes? From pain to greater pain and calamity, have I come, O Sanjaya, in consequence of the fall of Bhishma and Drona and the high-souled Karna! I do not see that anyone (of my army) will escape with life when the Suta's son hath been slain in battle! He was the great raft, O Sanjaya, to my sons! That hero, having shot innumerable arrows, hath been slain in battle! What use have I of life, without that bull among men? Without doubt, the son of Adhiratha, afflicted with arrows, fell down from his car, like a mountain-peak riven by the fall of thunder! Without doubt, bathed in blood, he lieth, adorning the Earth, like an elephant slain by an infuriate prince of elephants! He who was the strength of the Dhartarashtras, he who was an object of fear to the sons of Pandu, alas, he viz., Karna, that pride of all bowman, hath been slain by Arjuna! He was a hero, a mighty bowman, the dispeller of the fears of my sons! Alas, that hero, reft of life, lieth (on the earth), like mountain struck down by Indra! The fulfilment of Duryodhana's wishes is even like locomotion to one that is lame, or the gratification of the poor man's desire, or stray drops of water to one that is thirsty! Planned in one way, our schemes end otherwise. Alas, destiny is all powerful, and time incapable of being transgressed! Was my son Duhshasana, O Suta, slain, while flying away from the field, humbled (to the dust), of cheerless soul, and destitute of all manliness? O son, O Sanjaya, I hope he did no dastardly act on that occasion? Did not that hero meet with his death like the other Kshatriyas that have fallen? The foolish Duryodhana did not accept Yudhishthira's constant advice, wholesome as medicine, against the propriety of battle. Possessed of great renown, Partha, when begged for drink by Bhishma then lying on his arrowy bed, pierced the surface of the earth! Beholding the jet of water caused by the son of Pandu, the mighty-armed (Bhishma, addressing Duryodhana), said, "O sire, make peace with the Pandavas! Hostilities ceasing, peace will be thine! Let the war between thyself and thy cousins end with me! Enjoy the earth in brotherliness with the sons of Pandu!" Having disregarded those counsels, my child is certainly repenting now. That has now come to pass which Bhishma of great foresight said. As regards myself, O Sanjaya, I am destitute of counsellors and reft of sons! In consequence of gambling, I am fallen into great misery like a bird shorn of its wings! As children engaged in sport, O Sanjaya, having seized a bird and cut off its wings, merrily release it, but the creature cannot achieve locomotion in consequence of its winglessness; even so have I become, like a bird shorn of its wings! Weak, destitute of every resource, without kinsmen and deprived of relatives and friends, cheerless and overpowered by enemies, to which point of the compass shall I go? He who vanquished all the Kambojas and the Amvashthas with the Kaikeyas, that puissant one, who, having for the accomplishment of his purpose vanquished the Gandharas and the Videhas in battle, subjugated the whole Earth for the sake of Duryodhana's aggrandisement, alas, he hath been vanquished by the heroic and strong Pandavas endued with mighty arms! Upon the slaughter, in battle, of that mighty bowman, Karna, by the diadem-decked (Arjuna), tell me, O Sanjaya, who were these heroes that stayed (on the field)! I hope he was not alone and abandoned (by friends) when slain in battle by the Pandavas? Thou hast, O sire, told me, before this, how our brave warriors have fallen. With his powerful shafts Shikhandi felled in battle that foremost of all wielders of weapons, viz., Bhishma, who did nothing to repel the attack. Similarly, Sanjaya, Drupada's son Dhrishtadyumna, uplifting his scimitar, slew the mighty bowman Drona who, already pierced with many arrows, had laid aside his weapons in battle and devoted himself to Yoga. These two were both slain at a disadvantage and especially by deceit. Even this is what I have heard about the slaughter of Bhishma and Drona! Indeed, Bhishma and Drona, while contending in fight, were incapable of being slain in battle by the wielder of the thunderbolt himself by fair means. This that I tell thee is the truth! As regards Karna, how, indeed, could Death touch him, that hero equal unto Indra himself, while he was engaged in shooting his manifold celestial weapons? He unto whom in exchange for his earrings, Purandara had given that foe-slaying, gold-decked, and celestial dart of the splendour of lightning,--he who had, lying (within his quiver) amid sandal-dust, that snake-mouthed celestial arrow decked with gold, equipped with goodly wings, and capable of slaying all foes, he who, disregarding those heroic and mighty car-warriors having Bhishma and Drona at their head, had acquired from Jamadagni's son the terrible brahmastra, that mighty-armed one, who, having seen the warriors with Drona at their head afflicted with arrows and turn away from the field, had cut off with his keen shafts the bow of Subhadra's son, he who, having in a trice deprived the invincible Bhimasena endued with the might of 10,000 elephants and the speed of the wind, of his car, had laughed at him,--he who, having vanquished Sahadeva by means of his straight shafts and made him carless, slew him not from compassion and considerations of virtue,--he who, with Shakra's dart, slew that prince of Rakshasas, Ghatotkaca, who from desire of victory, had invoked a 1,000 kinds of illusions,--he whose feats in battle, filling Dhananjaya with fear, had made the latter for such a long period avoid a single combat with him,--alas, how could that hero be slain in battle? How could he be slain by foes unless one of these had happened to him viz., the destruction of his car, the snapping of his bow, and the exhaustion of his weapons? Who could vanquish that tiger among men, like a real tiger, endued with great impetuosity, Karna, while shaking his formidable bow and shooting therefrom his terrible shafts and celestial weapons in battle? Surely, his bow broke, or his car sank in the earth, or his weapons became exhausted, since thou tellest me that he is slain! I do not, indeed, see any other cause for (explaining) his slaughter! That high-souled one who had made the terrible vow "I will not wash my feet till I slay Phalguni," that warrior through whose fear that bull among men, king Yudhishthira the just, had not, in the wilderness, for thirteen years continuously, obtained a wink of sleep,--that high-souled hero of great prowess relying upon whose valour my son had forcibly dragged the wife of the Pandavas to the assembly, and there in the midst of that conclave, in the very sight of the Pandavas and in the presence of the Kurus, had addressed the princess of Pancala as the wife of slaves, that hero of the Suta caste, who in the midst of the assembly had addressed Krishna, saying, "All thy husbands, O Krishna, that are even like sesamum seeds without kernel, are no more, therefore, seek some other husband, O thou of the fairest complexion!" and in wrath had caused her to listen to other expressions equally harsh and rude, how was that hero slain by the foe? He who had said unto Duryodhana even these words, viz., "If Bhishma who boasteth of his prowess in battle or Drona who is invincible in fight, doth not, from partiality, slay the sons of Kunti, O Duryodhana, even I will slay them all, let the fever of thy heart be dispelled!" who also said, "What will (Arjuna's) Gandiva and the two inexhaustible quivers do to that shaft of mine, smeared with cool sandal-paste, when it will course through the welkin?" alas, how could that warrior possessed of shoulders broad as those of the bull be slain by Arjuna? He who, disregarding the fierce touch of the arrows shot from Gandiva had addressed Krishna, saying, "Thou hast no husbands now" and glared at the Pandavas, he who, O Sanjaya, relying on the might of his own arms, had entertained no fear, for even a moment, of the Parthas with their sons and Janardana,--he, I think, could not possibly meet with death at the hands of the very gods with Vasava at their head rushing against him in fury, what then need I say, O sire, of the Pandavas? The person could not be seen competent to stay before the son of Adhiratha, while the latter, putting on his fences, used to touch the bowstring! It was possible for the Earth to be destitute of the splendour of the Sun, of the Moon, or of fire, but the death of that foremost of men, who never retreated from battle, could not be possible. That foolish child of mine, of wicked understanding, who having got Karna, as also his brother Duhshasana, for his ally, had made up his mind for the rejection of Vasudeva's proposals, surely, that wight, beholding the slaughter of the bull-shouldered Karna and of Duhshasana, is now indulging in lamentations! Seeing Vikartana's son slain in single combat by Savyasaci, and the Pandavas crowned with victory, what indeed, did Duryodhana say? Seeing Durmarshana slain in battle and Vrishasena also, and seeing his host break when slaughtered by mighty car-warriors, beholding also the kings (of his army) turn back their faces, intent on flight, and his car-warriors already fled, I think that son of mine is now indulging in lamentations! Beholding his host dispirited, what, indeed, did the ungovernable, proud, and foolish Duryodhana, with passions not under control, say? Having himself provoked such fierce hostility though dissuaded by all his friends what, indeed, did Duryodhana, who has suffered a great loss in battle of friends and followers, say? Beholding his brother slain in battle by Bhimasena, and upon his blood being drunk, what indeed, did Duryodhana say? My son had, with the ruler of the Gandharas, said, "Karna will slay Arjuna in battle!" When he saw that Karna slain, what indeed, did he say? What, O sire, did Shakuni, the son of Subala, who had formerly been filled with joy after going through the match at dice and cheating the son of Pandu, say when he saw Karna slain? What did that mighty car-warrior among the Satwatas, that great bowman, Kritavarma the son of Hridika, say when he saw Vaikartana slain? Endued with youth, possessed of a handsome form, agreeable to the sight, and celebrated throughout the world, what, O Sanjaya, did Ashvatthama, the intelligent son of Drona, upon whom Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaishyas who are desirous of acquiring the science of arms wait, for protections, say when he saw Karna slain? What did Sharadvata's son Kripa, O sire, of Gotama's race, that foremost of car-warriors, that teacher of the science of arms, say when he saw Karna slain? What did the mighty leader of the Madras warriors, that king of the Madras, the great bowman Shalya of the Sauvira clan, that ornament of assemblies, that foremost of car-warriors (temporarily) engaged in driving the car, say when he saw Karna slain? What also did all the other warriors, difficult of defeat in battle, those lords of earth that came to fight, say, O Sanjaya, when they behold Vaikartana slain? After the fall of the heroic Drona, that tiger among car-warriors that bull among men, who, O Sanjaya, became the heads of the several division in their order? Tell me, O Sanjaya, how that foremost of car-warriors, Shalya the ruler of the Madras, became engaged in driving the car of Vaikartana! Who were they that guarded the right wheel of the Suta's son while the latter was engaged in fight, and who were they that guarded his left wheel, and who were they that stood at the rear of that hero? Who were those heroes that did not desert Karna, and who were those mean fellows that ran away? How was the mighty car-warrior Karna slain amidst your united selves? How also did those mighty car-warriors, the brave Pandavas, advance against him shooting showers of shafts like the clouds pouring torrents of rain? Tell me also, O Sanjaya, how that mighty shaft, celestial and foremost of its species, and equipped with a head like that of a serpent became futile! I do not, O Sanjaya, see the possibility of even a small remnant of my cheerless host being saved when its leaders have been crushed! Hearing of the slaughter of those two heroes, those two mighty bowmen, Bhishma and Drona, who were ever ready to lay down their lives for my sake, what use have I of life? Again and again I am unable to endure that Karna, the might of whose arms equalled that of 10,000 elephants, should be slain by the Pandavas! Tell me, O Sanjaya, all that occurred in the battle between the brave warriors of the Kauravas and their foes, after the death of Drona! Tell me also how the sons of Kunti fought the battle with Karna, and how that slayer of foes received his quietus in the fight!'" 10 "Sanjaya said, 'After the fall of the mighty bowman Drona on that day, O Bharata, and after the purpose had been baffled of that mighty car-warriors, viz., the son of Drona, and after the vasty army, O monarch, of the Kauravas had fled away, Partha, having arrayed his own troops, stayed on the field with his brothers. Perceiving him staying on the field, thy son, O bull of Bharata's race, seeing his own army running away, rallied them with great courage. Having caused his divisions to take up their stand, thy son, O Bharata, relying on the might of his arms, fought for a long time with his foes, the Pandavas, who, having gained their end, were filled with joy and had been struggling for hours together. On the approach there of the evening twilight, he caused the troops to be withdrawn. Having caused the withdrawal of their troops, and having entered their own encampment, the Kauravas held with one another a consultation about their own welfare, seated like the celestials on costly couches overlaid with rich coverlets, and on excellent seats and luxurious beds. Then king Duryodhana, addressing those mighty bowmen in agreeable and highly sweet expression, spoke the following words suited to the occasion. "'Duryodhana said, "Ye foremost of intelligent men, declare all of you, without delay, your opinions! Under these circumstances, ye kings, what is necessary and what is still more necessary?'" "Sanjaya continued, 'When that prince of men had spoken those words, those lions among men, seated on their thrones, made various gestures expressive of their desire of battle. Observing the indications of those who were all desirous of pouring their lives as libations on the battle-fire, and beholding the monarch's face radiant as morning Sun, the preceptor's son endued with intelligence and accomplished in speech, said these words: "Enthusiasm, opportunity, skill and policy,--these are the means declared by the learned, to be capable of accomplishing all ends. They are, however, dependent on destiny. Those foremost of men we had on our side, equal unto the celestials, mighty car-warriors all, possessed of policy, devoted, accomplished, and loyal, have been slain. For all that we should not despair of victory. If all these means be properly applied, even destiny may be made propitious. All of us, therefore, O Bharata, shall install Karna, that foremost of men, endued besides with every accomplishment, in the command of the army! Making Karna our commander, we shall crush our foes. This Karna is endued with great might; he is a hero, accomplished in weapons, and incapable of defeat in battle. Irresistible as Yama himself, he is quite competent to vanquish our foes in battle!" Hearing these words from the preceptor's son, O king, at that time, built great hopes on Karna. Cherishing the hope in his heart that after the fall of Bhishma and Drona, Karna would vanquish the Pandavas, and comforted (by it), O Bharata, Duryodhana then, filled with joy at having heard those words of Ashvatthama, steadying his mind and relying on the might of his arms, said unto Radha's son, O monarch, these words that were fraught with affection and regard, and that were true, delightful, and beneficial to himself: "O Karna, I know thy prowess, and the great friendship thou bearest to me! For all that, O mighty-armed one, I shall address to thee certain words that are for thy good! Having heard them, O hero, do that which may appear desirable to thee! Thou art endued with great wisdom, and thou art even my supreme refuge! Those two Atirathas that were my Generals, viz., Bhishma and Drona, have been slain. Be thou my General, thou that art mightier than they! Both of those great bowmen were advanced in years. They were, besides, partial to Dhananjaya. Still both those heroes were respected by me, O son of Radha, at thy word! Viewing his relationship of grandsire unto them, the sons of Pandu, O sire, were spared in dreadful battle by Bhishma for ten successive days! Thyself also having laid aside thy weapons, the valiant Bhishma was slain in great battle by Phalguni with Shikhandi before him! After that great bowman had fallen and betaken himself to his bed of arrows, it was at thy word, O tiger among men, that Drona was made our leader! By him also were the sons of Pritha spared, in consequence, as I think, of their relationship unto him of pupils. That old man also has been slain by Dhrishtadyumna more speedily. I do not see, even on reflection, another warrior equal to thee in battle,--thee, that is, whose prowess could not be measured by even those two foremost of warriors that have been slain in the fight! Without doubt, thou alone today art competent to win victory for us! Before, in the middle, and later on, thou hast accordingly acted for our good. Therefore, like a leader, it behoveth thee, in this battle, to bear the burden thyself. Thyself install thy own self in the Generalship. Like the celestial generalissimo, the lord Skanda of unfading prowess, (supporting the celestial army), do thou support this Dhartarashtra host! Like Mahendra slaying the Danavas, destroy thou all the throngs of our foes! Beholding thee staying in battle, the Pandavas, those mighty car-warriors, will, with the Pancalas, fly away from battle, like the Danavas at sight of Vishnu. Do thou, therefore lead this vast force! When thou shalt stand resolved on the field, the Pandavas of wicked hearts, the Pancalas, and the Srinjayas, will all fly away with their friends. As the risen Sun, scorching everything by his energy, destroyeth the thick gloom, even so do thou destroy our foes!'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Strong became that hope, O king, in the heart of thy son, viz., that where Bhishma and Drona had been slain, Karna would vanquish the Pandavas. Cherishing that hope within his heart, he said unto Karna, "O Suta's son, Partha never wishes to fight, standing before thee!" Karna said, "I have, O son of Gandhari, said before in thy presence, even these words, 'vanquish all the Pandavas with their sons and Janardana!' I shall become thy General. In this there is no doubt. Tranquilise thyself, O monarch, I consider the Pandavas to be already vanquished!"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed, O monarch, king Duryodhana then stood up with all the monarchs, like He of a hundred sacrifices with the gods, for honouring Karna with the command of the army, like the celestials for honouring Skanda. Then, O monarch, all the kings headed by Duryodhana, desirous of victory, installed Karna in the command, according to the rites enjoined by the ordinance. With golden and earthen jars filled to the brim with water and sanctified with mantras, with tusks of elephants and horns of rhinoceroses and mighty bulls, with other vessels decked with jewels and gems, with also fragrant herbs and plants, and with other articles collected in abundance, Karna, seated at his ease on a seat made of udumvara wood and overlaid with silken cloth, was invested with the command, according to the rites in the scriptures. Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and respectable Shudras, praised that high-souled one after he was bathed on that excellent seat. Thus installed in the command, O king, that slayer of foes, the son of Radha, caused, by presents of Niskas and kine and other wealth, many foremost of Brahmanas to utter blessings on him. "Vanquish the Parthas with Govinda and all their followers," even these were the words that the eulogists and the Brahmanas said (unto him), O bull among men! (And they also said) "Slay the Parthas and the Pancalas, O son of Radha, for our victory, like risen Sun ever destroying Darkness with his fierce rays! The sons of Pandu with Keshava are not able to even look at the shafts shot by thee, like owls unable to gaze at the burning rays of the Sun! The Parthas with the Pancalas are incapable of standing before thee armed with weapons, like the Danavas before Indra in battle!" Installed in the command, Radha's son of incomparable splendour looked resplendent in beauty and radiance like a second Sun. Having installed the son of Radha (thus) in the command of the army, thy son, urged on by Death, regarded himself as one who had his purpose accomplished. That chastiser of foes, Karna, also, O king, having obtained the command, ordered the troops to be arrayed, at the rise of the Sun. Surrounded by thy sons, O Bharata, Karna looked resplendent like Skanda surrounded by the celestials, in the battle having Saraka for its evil root.'" 11 "Dhritarashtra said, 'After having obtained the command of the army, and after he had been addressed by the king himself in those sweet and brotherly words, and after he had ordered the troops to be arrayed at the hour of sunrise, tell me, O Sanjaya, what did Vikartana's son Karna do?' "Sanjaya said, 'Having learnt Karna's wishes, thy sons, O bull of Bharata's race, ordered the troops to be arrayed with joyful music. While it still wanted a long period for the coming of the dawn, a loud noise of "Array, Array!" O king, suddenly arose among thy troops. And the uproar that arose, became tremendous and touched the very heavens, of foremost of elephants and fenced cars while under process of equipment, of foot-soldiers and steeds, O monarch, while putting on their armour or in course of being harnessed, and of combatants moving with activity and shouting unto one another! Then the Suta's son bearing a gold-backed bow appeared (on the field) in his car possessed of the splendour of the radiant Sun, crowned with many banners, equipped with a white standard, with steeds of the hue of cranes, bearing the device of the elephants' rope, filled with a hundred quivers, furnished with mace and wooden fence, freighted with shataghnis and rows of bells and darts and lances and spears, and supplied with many bows. And the Suta's son appeared on the field, blowing his conch, O king; decorated with a net-work of gold, and shaking his formidable bow adorned with pure gold. Beholding the mighty bowman Karna, that foremost of car-warriors, seated on his car, difficult of approach and resembling the risen Sun that destroys the gloom, none amongst the Kauravas, O tiger among men, recked, O sire, the loss of Bhishma or Drona or other men! Speeding the warriors, O sire, with the blasts of his conch, Karna caused the vast army of the Kauravas to be drawn out. Having arrayed the troops in the makara array, that mighty bowman, that scorcher of foes, viz., Karna, proceeded against the Pandavas from desire of victory. In the tip of the beak of that makara, O king, was stationed Karna himself. In the two eyes were the brave Shakuni and the mighty car-warrior Uluka. In the head was Drona's son and in the neck were all the uterine brothers. In the middle was king Duryodhana supported by a large force. In the left foot, O monarch, was stationed Kritavarma accompanied by the Narayana troops, and those invincible warriors, the gopalas. In the right foot, O king, was Gotama's son of prowess incapable of being baffled, surrounded by those mighty bowmen viz., the Trigartas and by the Southerners. In the left hind-foot was stationed Shalya with a large force raised in the country of Madras. In the right (hind-foot), O monarch, was Sushena of true vows, surrounded by a 1,000 cars and 300 elephants. In the tail were the two royal brothers of mighty energy, viz., Citra and Citrasena surrounded by a large force. "'When, O great king, that foremost of men, Karna, thus came out, king Yudhishthira the just, casting his eyes on Arjuna, said these words: "Behold, O Partha, how the Dhartarashtra force, O hero, in this battle, protected by heroes and mighty car-warriors, hath been arrayed by Karna! This vast Dhartarashtra force hath lost its bravest warriors. They that remain, O mighty-armed one, are feeble, equal, as I think, to straw! Only one great bowman, viz., the Suta's son, shineth in it! That foremost of car-warriors is incapable of being vanquished by the three worlds with their mobile and immobile creatures, including the gods, Asuras and Gandharvas, and the Kinnaras and great serpents! If thou slayest him today, O mighty-armed one, the victory will be thine, O Phalguna! The thorn also which for twelve years hath been planted in my heart will then be plucked out! Knowing this, O thou of mighty arms, form thou the array that thou wishest!" Hearing those words of his brother, that Pandava of the white steeds disposed his army in counter array after the form of the half moon. On the left side was stationed Bhimasena, and on the right was stationed the great bowman Dhrishtadyumna. In the middle of the array were the king and Dhananjaya the son of Pandu. Nakula and Sahadeva were at the rear of king Yudhishthira the just. The two Pancala princes, Yudhamanyu and Uttamauja, became the protectors of (Arjuna's) car wheels. Protected by the diadem-decked Arjuna himself, they did not quit Arjuna for a moment. The remaining kings, possessed of great courage, clad in mail, stood in the array, each in the position assigned to him, according to the measure of his enthusiasm and resolution, O Bharata. Having thus formed their great array, O Bharata, the Pandavas, and the mighty bowmen of thy army set their hearts on battle. Beholding thy army disposed into battle array by the Suta's son in battle Duryodhana with all his brethren regarded the Pandavas to be already slain. Similarly Yudhishthira, O king, beholding the Pandava army disposed in array, regarded the Dhartarashtras with Karna to be already slain. Then conches, and kettle-drums, and tabours, and large drums, and cymbals, and Dindimas, and Jharjharas, were loudly blown and beaten on all sides! Indeed, those loud-sounding instruments were blown and beaten, O king, among both the armies. Leonine roars also arose, uttered by brave warriors for victory. And there also arose, O king, the noise of neighing steeds and grunting elephants, and the fierce clatter of car-wheels. None, O Bharata, (in the Kaurava army), at that time, felt the loss of Drona, seeing the great bowman Karna clad in mail and stationed at the head of the array. Both armies, O monarch, teeming with joyous men, stood, eager for battle and (ready) to destroy each other without delay. There, the two heroes, viz., Karna and the son of Pandu, excited with wrath at sight of each other, and both firmly resolved, stood or careered, O king, through their respective divisions. The two armies, as they advanced to meet each other, seemed to dance (in joy). From the wings and the side-wings of both, warriors desirous of battle came forth. Then commenced the battle, O monarch, of men, elephants, steeds, and cars, engaged in destroying one another.'" 12 "Sanjaya said, 'Then those two vast armies, teeming with rejoicing men and steeds and elephants, resembling in splendour the celestial and the Asura hosts, meeting together, began to strike each other. Men, cars, steeds, elephants, and foot-soldiers of fierce prowess, made sturdy strokes destructive of bodies and sin. Lion-like men strewed the Earth with the heads of lion-like men, each resembling the full moon or the sun in splendour and the lotus in fragrance. Combatants cut off the heads of combatants, with crescent-shaped and broad-headed shafts and razor-faced arrows and axes, and battle-axes. The arms of men of long and massive arms, cut off by men of long and massive arms, falling upon the Earth, shone, decked with weapons and bracelets. With those writhing arms adorned with red fingers and palms, the Earth looked resplendent as if strewn with fierce five-headed snakes slain by Garuda. From elephants and cars and steeds, brave warriors fell down, struck by foes, like the denizens of heaven from their celestial cars on the exhaustion of their merits. Other brave warriors fell down by hundreds, crushed in that battle by brave combatants with heavy maces spiked clubs and short bludgeons. Cars also, in that tumultuous fight, were crushed by cars, and infuriate elephants by infuriate compeers, and horsemen by horsemen. Men destroyed by cars, and cars by elephants, and horsemen by foot-soldiers, and foot-soldiers by horsemen, dropped down on the field, as also cars and steeds and foot-soldiers destroyed by elephants and cars and steeds and elephants by foot-soldiers, and cars and foot-soldiers and elephants by steeds and men and elephants by cars. Great was the carnage made of car-warriors and steeds and elephants and men by men and steeds and elephants and car-warriors, using their hands and feet and weapons and cars. When that host was being thus struck and slain by heroic warriors the Parthas, headed by Vrikodara, advanced against us. They consisted of Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi and the five sons of Draupadi and the Prabhadrakas, and Satyaki and Chekitana with the Dravida forces, and the Pandyas, the Cholas, and the Keralas, surrounded by a mighty array, all possessed of broad chests, long arms, tall statures, and large eyes. Decked with ornaments, possessed of red teeth, endued with the prowess of infuriate elephants, attired in robes of diverse colours, smeared with powdered scents, armed with swords and nooses, capable of restraining mighty elephants, companions in death, and never deserting one another, equipped with quivers, bearing bows adorned with long locks, and agreeable in speech were the combatants of the infantry files led by Satyaki, belonging to the Andhra tribe, endued with fierce forms and great energy. Other brave warriors such as the Cedis, the Pancalas, the Kaikayas, the Karushas, the Kosalas, the Kanchis, and the Maghadhas, also rushed forward. Their cars and steeds and elephants, all of the foremost kind, and their fierce foot-soldiers, gladdened by the notes of diverse instruments, seemed to dance and laugh. In the midst of that vast force, came Vrikodara, riding on the neck of an elephant, and surrounded by many foremost of elephant-soldiers, advancing against thy army. That fierce and foremost of elephants, duly equipped, looked resplendent, like the stone-built mansion on the top of the Udaya mountain, crowned with the risen Sun. Its armour of iron, the foremost of its kind, studded with costly gems, was as resplendent as the autumnal firmament bespangled with stars. With a lance in his outstretched arm, his head decked with a beautiful diadem, and possessed of the splendour of the meridian Sun at autumn, Bhima began to burn his foes. Beholding that elephant from a distance, Kshemadhurti, himself on an elephant, challenging, rushed cheerfully towards Bhima who was more cheerful still. An encounter then took place between those two elephants of fierce forms resembling two huge hills topped with trees, each, fighting with the other as it liked. Those two heroes, then, whose elephants thus encountered each other, forcibly struck each other with lances endued with the splendour of solar rays, and uttered loud roars. Separating, they then careered in circles with their elephants, and each taking up a bow began to strike the other. Gladdening the people around with their loud roars and the slaps on their armpits and the whizz of the arrows, they continued to utter leonine shouts. Endued with great strength, both of them, accomplished in weapons, fought, using their elephants with upturned trunks and decked with banners floating on the wind. Then each cutting off the other's bow, they roared at each other, and rained on each other showers of darts and lances like two masses of clouds in the rainy season pouring torrents of rain. Then Kshemadhurti pierced Bhimasena in the centre of the chest with a lance endued with great impetuosity, and then with six others, and uttered a loud shout. With those lances sticking to his body, Bhimasena, whose form then blazed with wrath, looked resplendent like the cloud-covered Sun with his rays issuing through the interstices of that canopy. Then Bhima carefully hurled at his antagonist a lance bright as the rays of the Sun, coursing perfectly straight, and made entirely of iron. The ruler of the Kulutas then, drawing his bow, cut off that lance with ten shafts and then pierced the son of Pandu with sixty shafts. Then Bhima the son of Pandu, taking up a bow whose twang resembled the roar of the clouds, uttered a loud shout and deeply afflicted with his shafts the elephants of his antagonist. Thus afflicted in that battle by Bhimasena with his arrows, that elephant, though sought to be restrained, stayed not on the field like a wind-blown cloud. The fierce prince of elephants owned by Bhima then pursued his (flying) compeer, like a wind-blown mass of clouds pursuing another mass driven by the tempest. Restraining his own elephant valiant Kshemadhurti pierced with his shafts the pursuing elephant of Bhimasena. Then with a well-shot razor-headed arrow that was perfectly straight, Kshemadhurti cut off his antagonist's bow and then afflicted that hostile elephant. Filled with wrath, Kshemadhurti then, in that battle, pierced Bhima and struck his elephant with many long shafts in every vital part. That huge elephant of Bhima then fell down, O Bharata! Bhima, however, who had jumped down from his elephant and stood on the Earth before the fall of the beast, then crushed the elephant of his antagonist with his mace. And Vrikodara then struck Kshemadhurti also, who, jumped down from his crushed elephant, was advancing against him with uplifted weapon. Kshemadhurti, thus struck, fell down lifeless, with the sword in his arm, by the side of his elephant, like a lion struck down by thunder beside a thunder-riven hill. Beholding the celebrated king of the Kulutas slain, thy troops, O bull of Bharata's race exceedingly distressed, fled away.'" 13 "Sanjaya said, 'Then the mighty and heroic bowman Karna began to smite the Pandava army in that battle, with his straight shafts. Similarly, those great car-warriors, viz., the Pandavas, O king, filled with wrath, began to smite the army of thy son in the very sight of Karna. Karna also, O king, in that battle slew the Pandava army with his cloth-yard shafts bright as the rays of the Sun and polished by the hands of the smith. There, O Bharata, the elephants, struck by Karna with his shafts, uttered loud cries, lost strength, became faint, and wandered on all sides. While the army was being thus destroyed by the Suta's son, Nakula rushed with speed against that mighty car-warrior. And Bhimasena rushed against Drona's son who was engaged in the accomplishment of the most difficult feats. Satyaki checked the Kaikaya princes Vinda and Anuvinda. King Citrasena rushed against the advancing Srutakarman; and Prativindhya against Citra owning a beautiful standard and a beautiful bow. Duryodhana rushed against king Yudhishthira the son of Dharma; while Dhananjaya rushed against the angry throngs of the samsaptakas. In that slaughter of great heroes, Dhrishtadyumna proceeded against Kripa. The invincible Shikhandi closed with Kritavarma. Srutakirti encountered Shalya, and Madri's son, the valiant Sahadeva, O king, encountered thy son Duhshasana. The two Kaikaya princes, in that battle, shrouded Satyaki with a shower of blazing arrows, and the latter also, O Bharata, shrouded the two Kaikaya brothers. Those two heroic brothers deeply struck Satyaki in the chest like two elephants striking with their tusks a hostile compeer in the forest. Indeed, O king, those two brothers, in that battle, their own vitals pierced with shafts, pierced Satyaki of true deeds with their shafts. Satyaki, however, O great king, covering all the points of the compass with a shower of arrows and smiling the while, checked the two brothers, O Bharata. Checked by those showers of arrows shot by the grandson of Sini, the two brothers speedily shrouded the car of Sini's grandson with their shafts. Cutting off their beautiful bows, Saurin of great fame checked them both with his keen arrows in that battle. Taking up two other beautiful bows, and a number of powerful shafts, the two began to cover Satyaki and career with great activity and skill. Shot by the two brothers, those mighty shafts equipped with the feathers of the Kanka and the peacock and decked with gold, began to fall, illumining all the points of the compass. In that dreadful battle between them, O king, the arrows they shot caused a darkness there. Those mighty car-warriors then cut off each other's bows. Then the invincible Satwata, O king, filled with rage, took up another bow in that battle, and stringing it, cut off Anuvinda's head with a keen razor-headed shaft. Decked with earrings, that large head, O king, fell like the head of Samvara slain in the great battle (of old). And it reached the Earth in no time, filling all the Kaikayas with grief. Beholding that brave warrior slain, his brother, the mighty car-warrior Vinda, stringing another bow began to resist the grandson of Sini from every side. Piercing with sixty arrows equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone, he uttered a loud shout and said, "Wait, Wait!" Then that mighty car-warrior of the Kaikayas speedily struck Satyaki with many thousands of shafts in his arms and chest. All his limbs wounded with arrows, Satyaki, of prowess incapable of being baffled, looked resplendent in that battle, O king, like a flowering Kinsuka. Pierced by the high-souled Kaikaya in that encounter, Satyaki, with the greatest ease, pierced the Kaikaya (in return) with five and twenty arrows. Then those two foremost of car-warriors, having each cut off the other's handsome bow in that encounter, and having each quickly slain the other's driver and steeds approached each other on foot for a fight with swords. Both endued with massive arms, they looked resplendent on that extensive arena, each having taken up a shield decked with a hundred moons, and each armed with an excellent sword, like Jambha and Sakra, both endued with great might, in the battle between the gods and the Asuras (of old). Both of them, in that great battle, then began to career in circles. And then they speedily encountered each other in battle, each approaching the other near. And each of them made great efforts for the destruction of the other. Then Satwata cut in twain the shield of Kaikeya. The latter also, O king, cut in twain the shield of Satyaki. Having cut off his antagonist's shield covered with centuries of stars, Kaikeya began to career in circles, advancing and receding (at times). Then the grandson of Sini, endued with great activity, cut off by a sidestroke the prince of the Kaikeyas thus careering in that great arena armed with excellent sword. Cased in armour that great bowman, viz., the Kaikeya prince, O king, thus cut off in twain in that great battle, fell down like a hill riven with thunder. Having slain him in battle that foremost of car-warriors that scorcher of foes, viz., the brave grandson of Sini quickly got upon the car of Yudhamanyu. Afterwards riding upon another car duly equipped (with everything), Satyaki began to slay with his shafts the large force of the Kaikeyas. The vast army of the Kaikeyas, thus slaughtered in battle, leaving that foe of theirs fled away on all sides.'" 14 "Sanjaya said, 'Srutakarman then, O king, filled with wrath, struck that lord of Earth, viz., Citrasena, in that battle, with fifty shafts. The ruler of the Abhisars (in return), striking Srutakarman, O king, with nine straight arrows, pierced his driver with five. Srutakarman then, filled with rage, struck Citrasena at the head of his forces, with a keen arrow in a vital part. Deeply pierced, O monarch, with that arrow by that high-souled prince the heroic Citrasena felt great pain and swooned away. During this interval, Srutakarman of great renown covered that lord of Earth, (viz., his insensible antagonist), with ninety arrows. The mighty car-warrior Citrasena then, recovering consciousness, cut off his antagonist's bow with a broad-headed arrow, and pierced his antagonist himself with seven arrows. Taking up another bow that was decked with gold, and capable of striking hard, Srutakarman then, with his waves of arrows, made Citrasena assume a wonderful appearance. Adorned with those arrows, the youthful king, wearing beautiful garlands, looked in that battle like a well-adorned youth in the midst of an assembly. Quickly piercing Srutakarman with an arrow in the centre of the chest, he said unto him, "Wait, Wait!" Srutakarman also, pierced with that arrow in the battle, began to shed blood, like a mountain shedding streams of liquid red chalk. Bathed in blood and dyed therewith, that hero shone in battle like a flowering Kinsuka. Srutakarman, then, O king, thus assailed by the foe, became filled with rage, and cut in twain the foe-resisting bow of Citrasena. The latter's bow having been cut off, Srutakarman then, O king, pierced him with three hundred arrows equipped with goodly wings, covering him completely therewith. With another broad-headed arrow, sharp-edged and keen pointed, he cut off the head, decked with head-gear of his high-souled antagonist. That blazing head of Citrasena fell down on the ground, like the moon loosened from the firmament upon the Earth at will. Beholding the king slain, the troops of Citrasena, O sire, rushed impetuously against (his slayer). That great bowman then, filled with rage, rushed, shooting his shafts, against that army, like Yama filled with fury, against all creatures at the time of the universal dissolution. Slaughtered in that battle by thy grandson armed with the bow, they quickly fled on all sides like elephants scorched by a forest conflagration. Beholding them flying away, hopeless of vanquishing the foe, Srutakarman, pursuing them with his keen arrows, looked exceedingly resplendent (on his car). Then Prativindhya, piercing Citra with five arrows, struck his driver with three and his standard with one. Him Citra pierced, striking in the arms and the chest, with nine broad-headed shafts equipped with wings of gold, having keen points, and plumed with Kanka and peacock feathers. Then Prativindhya, O Bharata, cutting off with his shafts the bow of his antagonist deeply struck the latter with five keen arrows. Then Citra, O monarch, sped at thy grandson a terrible and irresistible dart, adorned with golden bells, and resembling a flame of fire. Prativindhya, however, in that battle, cut off, with the greatest ease, into three fragments, that dart as it coursed towards him like a flashing meteor. Cut off into three fragments, with Prativindhya's shafts, that dart fell down, like the thunderbolt inspiring all creatures with fear at the end of the Yuga. Beholding that dart baffled, Citra, taking up a huge mace decked with a net-work of gold, hurled it at Prativindhya. That mace slew the latter's steeds and driver also in that great battle, and crushing, besides, his car, fell with great impetuosity on the Earth. Meanwhile, having alighted from his car, O Bharata, Prativindhya hurled at Citra a dart, well-adorned and equipped with a golden staff. Catching it as it coursed towards him, the high-souled king Citra, O Bharata, hurled the very weapon at Prativindhya. Striking the brave Prativindhya in that battle, that blazing dart, piercing through his right arm, fell down on the Earth, and falling illumined the whole region like a blast of lightning. Then Prativindhya, O king, filled with rage, and desiring to compass the destruction of Citra, sped at him a lance decked with gold. That lance penetrating through his armour and chest, entered the Earth like a mighty snake in its hole. Struck with that lance, the king fell down, stretching out his large and massive arms that resembled a couple of iron clubs. Beholding Citra slain, thy warriors, those ornaments of battle, rushed impetuously at Prativindhya from all sides. Shooting diverse kinds of shafts and Sataghnis decked with rows of bells, they soon covered Prativindhya like masses of clouds covering the Sun. The mighty-armed Prativindhya, consuming with his arrowy showers those assailants of his in that battle, routed thy army like the thunder-wielding Sakra routing the Asura host. Thus slaughtered in battle by the Pandavas, thy troops, O king, suddenly dispersed in all directions like congregated masses of clouds dispersed by the wind. While thy army, slaughtered on all sides, was thus flying away, only Drona's son singly rushed with speed against the mighty Bhimasena. All at once a fierce encounter ensued between them like to what had taken place between Vritra and Vasava in the battle between the gods and the Asuras (of old).'" 15 "Sanjaya said, 'Endued with the greatest activity, Drona's son, O king, displaying the lightness of his arms, pierced Bhima with an arrow. Aiming at all his vital points--for he had a knowledge of all the vital points of the body--the quick-handed Ashvatthama again struck him with ninety shafts. Pierced all over with keen arrows by the son of Drona, Bhimasena looked resplendent in that battle like the Sun himself with his rays. The son of Pandu then, covering the son of Drona with a 1,000 well-directed shafts, uttered a leonine roar. Baffling with his own shafts the shafts of his foe in that battle, the son of Drona, O king, as if smiling, then struck the Pandava on the forehead with a cloth-yard shaft. The son of Pandu bore that arrow on his forehead even as the proud rhinoceros, O king, in the forest bears its horn. The valiant Bhima, then, in that battle as if smiling all the while, struck the struggling son of Drona on the forehead with three cloth-yard shafts. With those three arrows sticking on his forehead, that Brahmana looked beautiful like a three-peaked mountain washed with water in the season of rains. The son of Drona then afflicted the Pandava with hundreds of arrows, but failed to shake him like the wind failing to shake the mountain. Similarly the son of Pandu, filled with joy, could not in that battle shake the son of Drona with his hundreds of keen shafts like torrents of rain failing to shake a mountain. Shrouding each other with showers of terrible shafts those two great car-warriors, those two heroes, endued with fierce might, shone resplendent on those two foremost of cars of theirs. Then they looked like two blazing Suns risen for the destruction of the world, and engaged themselves in scorching each other with their rays representing excellent arrows. Endeavouring with great care to counteract each other's feats in the great battle, and actually engaged in matching deed by deed with showers of arrows most fearlessly, those two foremost of men careered in that combat like a couple of tigers. Both invincible and terrible, arrows constituted their fangs and bows their mouths. They became invisible under those clouds of arrows on all sides like the Sun and the Moon in the firmament shrouded by masses of clouds. And then those two chastisers of foes soon became visible and blazed forth like Mars and Mercury freed from cloudy screens. Then at that instant during the progress of that awful battle, Drona's son placing Vrikodara to his right, poured hundreds of fierce arrows upon him like the clouds pouring torrents of rain upon a mountain. Bhima, however, could not brook that indication of his enemy's triumphs. The son of Pandu, O king, from that very station on Ashvatthama's right, began to counteract the latter's feats. Their cars continuing to wheel around in diverse ways and advance and retreat (according to the exigencies of the situation), the battle between those two lions among men became exceedingly furious. Careering in diverse paths, and (executing) circular manoeuvres, they continued to strike each other with arrows shot from their bows drawn to their fullest stretch. And each made the greatest endeavours to compass the destruction of the other. And each of them desired to make the other carless in that battle. Then that car-warrior, viz., the son of Drona, invoked many mighty weapons. The son of Pandu, however, in that battle, with his own weapons, counteracted all those weapons of his foe. Then, O monarch, there took place an awful encounter of weapons, like to the terrible encounter of planets at the time of the universal dissolution. Those shafts, O Bharata, let off by them, coming in collision, illuminated all the points of the compass and thy troops also all around. Covered with flights of arrows, the welkin assumed a terrible sight, like to what happens, O king, at the time of the universal dissolution, when it is covered with falling meteors. From the clash of shafts, O Bharata, fire was generated there with sparks and blazing flames. That fire began to consume both armies. Siddhas, moving there, O monarch, said these words, "O lord, this battle is the foremost of all battles. Any battle (fought before) does not come up to even a sixteenth part of this. A battle like this will never occur again. Both these persons, viz., this Brahmana and this Kshatriya, are endued with knowledge. Both are possessed of courage, and both are fierce in prowess. Dreadful is the might of Bhima, and wonderful is the skill of the other in weapons. How great is their energy and how wonderful the skill possessed by both! Both of them stand in this battle like two universe-destroying Yamas at the end of the Yuga. They are born like two Rudras or like two Suns. These two tigers among men, both endued with terrible forms, are like two Yamas in this battle." Such were the words of the Siddhas heard there every moment. And among the assembled denizens of heaven there arose a leonine roar. Beholding the amazing and inconceivable feats of the two warriors in that battle, the dense throngs of Siddhas, and Charanas were filled with wonder. And the gods, the Siddhas, and the great Rishis applauded them both saying, "Excellent, O mighty-armed son of Drona. Excellent, O Bhima." Meanwhile those two heroes, in that battle, O king, having done injuries to each other, glared at each other with eyes rolling in rage. With eyes red in rage, their lips also quivered in rage. And they grinded their teeth in wrath and bit their lips. And those two great car-warriors covered each other with showers of arrows, as if they were in that battle two masses of clouds that poured torrents of arrows for rain and that gleamed with weapons constituting their lightning. Having pierced each other's standards and drivers in that great battle, and having also pierced each other's steeds, they continued to strike each other. Then, O monarch, filled with rage, they took up in that dreadful encounter, two arrows, and each desirous of slaying the other shot quickly at his foe. Those two blazing arrows, resistless and endued with the force of thunder, coming, O king, to the two warriors as they stood at the head of their respective divisions, struck them both. Each of the two mighty combatants then deeply struck with those arrows, sank, on the terrace of their respective car. Understanding the son of Drona to be insensible, his driver then bore him away from the battle-field, O king, in the sight of all the troops. Similarly, O king, Bhima's driver bore away from the battle-field on his car, the son of Pandu, that scorcher of foes, who was repeatedly falling into a swoon.'" 16 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Describe to me the battle of Arjuna with the samsaptakas, and of the other kings with the Pandavas. Narrate to me also, O Sanjaya, the battle of Arjuna with Ashvatthama, and of the other lords of the Earth with Partha.' "Sanjaya said, 'Listen, O king, as I speak to thee as to how occurred the battle of the heroic warriors (on our side) with the foe--the battle which was destructive of bodies, sins, and lives. That slayer of foes, viz, Partha, penetrating into the Samsaptaka force that resembled the ocean, agitated it exceedingly, like a tempest agitating the vast deep. Cutting off with broad-headed arrows of keen edges the heads of brave warriors that were decked with faces possessed of the splendour of the full moon and with beautiful eyes and eyebrows and teeth, Dhananjaya speedily caused the Earth to be strewn there as if with lotuses, plucked of their stalks. And in that battle Arjuna with his razor-headed shafts, cut off the arms of his foes, that were all well rounded, large and massive, and smeared with sandal-paste and other perfumes, with weapons in grasp, with leathern gloves casing their fingers, and looking like five-headed snakes. And the son of Pandu repeatedly cut off with his broad-headed shafts, steeds, riders, drivers, and flags, and bows and arrows, and arms decked with gems. And Arjuna in that battle, O king, with many thousands of arrows, despatched to Yama's abode, car-warriors and elephants and horses and horsemen. Many foremost of warriors, filled with rage and roaring like bulls mad (like them) with excitement for a cow in season, rushed towards Arjuna, with loud cries. All of them then began to strike Arjuna with their arrows as the latter was employed in slaying them, like infuriate bulls striking one of their species with their horns. The battle that took place between him and them made the hair to stand on end, even like the battle between the Daityas and the wielder of the thunderbolt on the occasion of the conquest of the three worlds. Resisting with his own weapons the weapons of his foes on all sides, Arjuna, piercing them fast with innumerable arrows, took their lives. Like the wind destroying vast masses of clouds, Arjuna, otherwise called Jaya, that enhancer of the fears of his foes, cutting off into minute fragments large throngs of cars,--cars, that is, whose poles, wheels, and axles had previously been shattered by him, and whose warriors and steeds and drivers had been slain before, and whose weapons and quivers had been displaced, and standards crushed, and traces and reins sundered, and wooden fences and shafts broken already, and filling every body with wonder, achieved feats magnificent to behold and rivalling those of a 1,000 great car-warriors fighting together. Crowds of Siddhas and celestial Rishis and Charanas all applauded him. And celestial kettle-drums sounded, and floral showers fell upon the heads of Keshava and Arjuna. And an incorporeal voice said, "These viz., Keshava and Arjuna, are those two heroes that always possess the beauty of the moon, the splendour of fire, the force of the wind and the radiance of the sun. Stationed on the same car these two heroes are invincible even like Brahman and Isana. These two heroes the foremost of all creatures are Nara and Narayana." Hearing and beholding these wonderful things, O Bharata, Ashvatthama, with great care and resolution, rushed against Krishna and Arjuna in that battle. With his arm that held an arrow in its grasp, the son of Drona hailed the Pandava, shooting shafts equipped with foe-slaying heads, and smilingly told him these words, "If, O hero, thou regardest me a worthy guest arrived (before thee), then give me today, with the whole heart, the hospitality of battle." Thus summoned by the preceptor's son from desire of battle, Arjuna regarded himself highly honoured, and addressing Janardana said, "The samsaptakas should be slain by me, but Drona's son again is summoning me. Tell me, O Madhava, to which of these duties should I first turn? First let the services of hospitality be offered, if thou thinkest that to be proper." Thus addressed, Krishna bore Partha who had been summoned according to the rules of triumphant challenge to the vicinity of Drona's son, like Vayu bearing Indra to the sacrifice. Saluting Drona's son whose mind was fixed upon one thing, Keshava said unto him, "O Ashvatthama, be cool, and without losing a moment strike and bear. The time has come for those that are dependent on others to repay their obligation to their masters. The disputes between Brahmanas are subtle. The consequences, however, of the disputes of Kshatriyas are palpable, being either victory or defeat. For obtaining those excellent rites of hospitality that from folly thou solicitest at the hands of Partha, fight coolly now with the son of Pandu." Thus addressed by Vasudeva, that foremost of regenerate ones, replied saying, "So be it!" pierced Keshava with sixty shafts and Arjuna with three. Arjuna then, filled with rage, cut off Ashvatthama's bow with three shafts. Drona's son took up another bow that was still more formidable. Stringing it within the twinkling of an eye, he pierced Arjuna and Keshava, the latter with three hundred arrows, and the former with a 1,000. And then Drona's son, with good care, stupefying Arjuna in that battle, shot thousands and tens of thousands and millions of arrows. From the quivers, the bow, the bow-string, the fingers, the arms, the hands, the chest, the face, the nose, the eyes, the ears, the heads, the limbs, the pores of the body, the armour on his person, the car, and the standard, O sire, of that utterer of Brahma, arrows began to issue. Piercing Madhava and the son of Pandu with the thick arrowy shower, Drona's son filled with joy, roared aloud like a vast mass of congregated clouds. Hearing that roar of his, the son of Pandu said unto Keshava of unfading glory these words "Behold, O Madhava, this wickedness towards me of the preceptor's son. He regardeth us to be slain, having shrouded us with his dense arrowy shower. I will presently, however, by my training and might, baffle his purpose." Cutting off every one of those arrows shot by Ashvatthama into three fragments, that foremost one of Bharata's race destroyed them all like the Sun destroying a thick fog. After this the son of Pandu once more pierced with his fierce shafts, the samsaptakas with their steeds, drivers, cars, elephants, standards and foot-soldiers. Every one of those that stood there as spectators, every one of those that were stationed there on foot or car or steed or elephant, regarded himself as shrouded by the arrows of Arjuna. Shot from Gandiva, those winged arrows of diverse forms slew in that battle elephants and steeds and men whether stationed in his immediate front or at the distance of two miles. The trunks, cut off with broad-headed shafts, of elephants, down whose cheeks and other limbs flowed the juice indicative of excitement, fell down like tall trees in the forest struck down with the axe. A little after down fell elephants, huge as hillocks, with their riders, like mountains crushed by Indra with his thunder. With his shafts cutting into minute portions well-equipped cars that looked like dissolving edifices of vapour in the evening sky and unto which were yoked well-trained steeds of great speed and which were ridden by warriors invincible in battle, the son of Pandu continued to shower his arrows on his enemies. And Dhananjaya continued to slay well-decked horsemen and foot-soldiers of the foe. Indeed, Dhananjaya, resembling the very Sun as he rises at the end of the Yuga, dried up the samsaptaka ocean incapable of being dried up easily, by means of keen arrows constituting his rays. Without losing a moment, the son of Pandu once more pierced Drona's son resembling a huge hill, with shafts of great impetuosity and the splendour of the Sun, like the wielder of the thunderbolt piercing a mountain with the thunder. Desirous of battle, the preceptor's son then, filled with rage, approached Arjuna for piercing him and his steeds and drivers by means of his swiftly coursing shafts. Arjuna, however, quickly cut off the shafts shot at him by Ashvatthama. The son of Pandu then filled with great wrath, proffered unto Ashvatthama, that desirable guest, quivers upon quivers of arrows, like a charitable person offering everything in his house unto a guest. Leaving the samsaptakas then the son of Pandu rushed towards Drona's son like a donor abandoning unworthy guests, for proceeding towards one that is worthy.'" 17 "Sanjaya said, 'Then occurred that battle between Arjuna and Ashvatthama resembling the planets Shukra and Brihaspati in splendour, like the battle between Shukra and Brihaspati in the firmament for entering the same constellation. Afflicting each other with blazing shafts that constituted their rays, those terrifiers of the world stood like two planets both deviating from their orbits. Then Arjuna deeply pierced Ashvatthama with a shaft in the midst of his eyebrows. With that shaft the son of Drona looked resplendent like the Sun with upward rays. The two Krishnas (Nara and Narayana), also deeply afflicted by Ashvatthama with hundreds of arrows, looked like two Suns at the end of the Yuga, resplendent with their own rays. Then when Vasudeva seemed to be stupefied, Arjuna shot a weapon from which issued torrents of shafts on all sides. And he struck the son of Drona with innumerable shafts, each resembling the thunder or fire or the sceptre of Death. Endued with mighty energy, that achiever of fierce feats, (Ashvatthama) then pierced both Keshava and Arjuna with well-shot shafts which were inspired with great impetuosity and struck with which Death himself would feel pain. Checking the shafts of Drona's son, Arjuna covered him with twice as many arrows equipped with goodly wings, and shrouding that foremost of heroes and his steeds and driver and standard, began to strike the samsaptakas. With his well-shot shafts Partha began to cut off the bows and quivers and bowstrings and hands and arms and tightly grasped weapons and umbrellas and standards and steeds and car shafts and robes and floral garlands and ornaments and coats of mail and handsome shields and beautiful heads, in large numbers, of his unretreating foes. Well-equipped cars and steeds and elephants, ridden by heroes fighting with great care, were destroyed by the hundreds of shafts sped by Partha and fell down along with the heroes that rode on them. Cut off with broad-headed and crescent-shaped and razor-faced arrows, human heads, resembling the lotus, the Sun, or the full Moon in beauty and resplendent with diadems and necklaces and crowns, dropped ceaselessly on the earth. Then the Kalinga, the Vanga, and the Nishada heroes, riding on elephants, that resembled in splendour the elephant of the great foe of the Daityas, rushed with speed against the queller of the pride of the Danavas, the son of Pandu, from desire of slaying him. Partha cut off the vital limbs, the trunks, the riders, the standards, and the banners of those elephants, upon which those beasts fell down like mountain summits riven with thunder. When that elephant force was broken, the diadem-decked Arjuna shrouded the son of his preceptor with shafts endued with the splendour of the newly risen Sun, like the wind shrouding the risen Sun with masses of congregated clouds. Checking with his own shafts those of Arjuna, Drona's son shrouding both Arjuna and Vasudeva with his arrows, gave a loud roar, like a mass of clouds at the close of summer after shrouding the Sun or the Moon in the firmament. Deeply afflicted with those arrows, Arjuna, aiming his weapons at Ashvatthama and at those followers of his belonging to the army, speedily dispelled that darkness caused by Ashvatthama's arrows, and pierced all of them with shafts equipped with goodly wings. In that battle none could see when Savyasaci took up his shafts, when he aimed them, and when he let them off. All that could be seen was that elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers and car-warriors, struck with his arrows, fell down deprived of life. Then Drona's son without losing a moment, aiming ten foremost of arrows, sped them quickly as if they formed only one arrow. Shot with great force, five of these pierced Arjuna and the other five pierced Vasudeva. Struck with those arrows, those two foremost of men, like Kuvera and Indra, became bathed in blood. Thus afflicted, all the people there regarded those two heroes as slain by Ashvatthama the warrior who had completely mastered the science of arms. Then the chief of the Dasharhas addressed Arjuna and said, "Why errest thou in thus sparing Ashvatthama? Slay this warrior. If treated with indifference, even this one will be the cause of great woe, like a disease not sought to be put down by treatment." Replying unto Keshava of unfading glory with the words "So be it!" Arjuna of unclouded understanding began with good care to mangle the son of Drona with his shafts. Now the son of Pandu, filled with rage, quickly pierced the massive arms, smeared with sandal-paste, and the chest, the head, and the unrivalled thighs of his antagonist with shafts equipped with heads like goats' ears, and shot with great force from Gandiva. Then cutting off the traces of Ashvatthama's steeds, Arjuna began to pierce the steeds themselves, whereat the latter bore Ashvatthama away to a great distance from the field. Thus borne away by these steeds endued with the speed of the wind, the intelligent son of Drona, deeply afflicted with the shafts of Partha, reflecting for some time, wished not to go back and renew the fight with Partha. Knowing that victory is ever with the chief of the Vrishnis and with Dhananjaya, that foremost one of Angirasa's race, endued with great activity, entered the army of Karna, deprived of hope and with shafts and weapons almost exhausted. Indeed, Drona's son, restraining his steeds, and having comforted himself a little, O sire, entered the force of Karna, teeming with cars and steeds and men. After Ashvatthama, that enemy of theirs, had been thus removed from the field by his steeds like a disease removed from the body by incantations and medicines and means, Keshava and Arjuna proceeded towards the samsaptakas, on their car whose rattle resembled the roar of the clouds and whose banner waved on the wind.'" 18 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile towards the northern part of the Pandava army, a loud uproar arose of cars and elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers as those were being massacred by Dandadhara. Turning the course of the car, but without stopping the steeds which were as fleet as Garuda or the wind, Keshava, addressing Arjuna, said, "The chief of the Magadhas, with his (foe-crushing) elephant is unrivalled in prowess. In training and might he is not inferior to Bhagadatta himself. Having slain him first, thou wilt then slay the samsaptakas." At the conclusion of his words, Keshava bore Partha to the presence of Dandadhara. The chief of the Magadhas, peerless in handling the elephant-hook even as the headless planet Ketu (is peerless) among all the planets, was destroying the hostile army like a fierce comet destroying the whole earth. Riding on his foe-slaying and well-equipped elephant which looked like the danava with elephantine face and form, and whose roar resembled that of a congregated mass of clouds, Dandadhara was destroying with his shafts thousands of cars and steeds and elephants and men. The elephants also, treading upon cars with their feet, pressed down into the Earth a large number of men with their steeds and drivers. Many were the elephants, also, which that foremost of elephants, crushed and slew with his two forefeet and trunk. Indeed, the beast moved like the wheel of Death. Slaying men adorned with steel coats of mail, along with their horses and foot-soldiers, the chief of the Magadhas caused these to be pressed down into the earth, like thick reeds pressed down with crackling sounds, by means of that mighty and foremost of elephants belonging to him. Then Arjuna, riding on that foremost of cars, rushed quickly towards that prince of elephants in the midst of that host teeming with thousands of cars and steeds and elephants, and resounding with the beat and blare of innumerable cymbals and drums and conchs and uproarious with the clatter of car-wheels, the twang of bow-strings, and the sound of palms. Even Dandadhara pierced Arjuna with a dozen foremost of shafts and Janardana with sixteen and each of the steeds with three, and then uttered a loud shout and laughed repeatedly. Then Partha, with a number of broad-headed shafts, cut off the bow of his antagonist with its string and arrow fixed thereon, as also his well-decked standard, and then the guides of his beast and the footmen that protected the animal. At this, the lord of Girivraja became filled with rage. Desirous of agitating Janardana with that tusker of his, whose temples had split from excitement, and which resembled a mass of clouds and was endued with the speed of the wind, Dandadhara struck Dhananjaya with many lances. The son of Pandu then, with three razor-headed arrows, cut off, almost at the same instant of time, the two arms each looking like the trunk of an elephant, and then the head, resembling the full Moon, of his foe. Then Arjuna struck the elephant of this antagonist with hundreds of arrows. Covered with the gold-decked arrows of Partha, that elephant equipped with golden armour looked as resplendent as a mountain in the night with its herbs and trees blazing in a conflagration. Afflicted with the pain and roaring like a mass of clouds, and exceedingly weakened, the elephant crying and wandering and running with tottering steps, fell down with the guide on its neck, like a mountain summit riven by thunder. Upon the fall of his brother in battle, Danda advanced against Indra's younger brother and Dhananjaya, desirous of slaying them, on his tusker white as snow and adorned with gold and looking like a Himalayan summit. Danda struck Janardana with three whetted lances bright as the rays of the sun, and Arjuna with five, and uttered a loud shout. The son of Pandu then uttering a loud shout cut off the two arms of Danda. Cut off by means of razor-headed shafts, those two arms, smeared with sandal-paste, adorned with angadas, and with lances in grasp, as they fell from the elephant's back at the same instant of time, looked resplendent like a couple of large snakes of great beauty falling down from a mountain summit. Cut off with a crescent-shaped arrow by the diadem-decked (Partha), the head also of Danda fell down on the Earth from the elephant's back, and covered with blood it looked resplendent as it lay like the sun dropped from the Asta mountain towards the western quarter. Then Partha pierced with many excellent arrows bright as the rays of the sun that elephant of his foe, resembling a mass of white clouds whereupon it fell down with a noise like a Himalayan summit riven with thunder. Then other huge elephants capable of winning victory and resembling the two already slain, were cut off by Savyasaci, in that battle, even as the two (belonging to Danda and Dandadhara) had been cut off. At this the vast hostile force broke. Then elephants and cars and steeds and men, in dense throngs, clashed against one another and fell down on the field. Tottering, they violently struck one another and fell down deprived of life. Then his soldiers, encompassing Arjuna like the celestials encompassing Purandara, began to say, "O hero, that foe of whom we had been frightened like creatures at the sight of Death himself, hath by good luck been slain by thee. If thou hadst not protected from that fear those people that were so deeply afflicted by mighty foes, then by this time our foes would have felt that delight which we now feel at their death, O slayer of enemies." Hearing these and other words uttered by friends and allies, Arjuna, with a cheerful heart, worshipped those men, each according to his deserts, and proceeded once more against the samsaptakas.'" 19 "Sanjaya said, 'Wheeling round, like the planet Mercury in the curvature of its orbit, Jishnu (Arjuna) once more slew large number of the samsaptakas. Afflicted with the shafts of Partha, O king, men, steeds, and elephants, O Bharata, wavered and wandered and lost colour and fell down and died. Many foremost of animals tied to yokes and drivers and standards, and bows, and shafts and hands and weapons in grasp, and arms, and heads, of heroic foes fighting with him, the son of Pandu cut off in that battle, with arrows, some of which were broad-headed, some equipped with heads like razors, some crescent-shaped, and some furnished with heads like the calf's tooth. Like bulls fighting with a bull for the sake of a cow in season, brave warriors by hundreds and thousands closed upon Arjuna. The battle that took place between them and him made the hair to stand on end like the encounter between the Daityas and Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt on the occasion of the conquest of the three worlds. Then the son of Ugrayudha pierced Partha with three shafts resembling three venomous snakes. Partha, however, cut off from his enemy's trunk the latter's head. Then those warriors, filled with rage, covered Arjuna from every side with diverse kinds of weapons like the clouds urged by the Maruts shrouding Himavat at the close of summer. Checking with his own weapons those of his foes on every side, Arjuna slew a large number of his enemies with well-shot shafts. With his arrows Arjuna then cut off the Trivenus, the steeds, the drivers, and the parshni drivers of many cars, and displaced the weapons and quivers of many, and deprived many of their wheels and standards, and broke the cords, the traces and the axles of many, and destroyed the bottoms and yokes of others, and caused all the equipment of many to fall from their places. Those cars, thus smashed and injured by Arjuna in large numbers, looked like the luxurious mansions of the rich destroyed by fire, wind, and rain. Elephants, their vitals pierced with shafts resembling thunderbolts in impetuosity, fell down like mansions on mountain-tops overthrown by blasts of lightning. Large numbers of steeds with their riders, struck by Arjuna, fell down on the Earth, their tongues and entrails pressed out, themselves deprived of strength and bathed in blood, and presenting an awful sight. Men and steeds and elephants, pierced by Savyasaci (Arjuna) with his shafts, wondered and tottered and fell down and uttered cries of pain and looked pale, O sire. Like Mahendra smiting down the Danavas, Partha smote down large numbers of his foes, by means of shafts whetted on stone and resembling the thunder of poison in deadliness. Brave warriors, cased in costly coats of mail and decked with ornaments and armed with diverse kinds of weapons, lay on the field, with their cars and standards, slain by Partha. Vanquished (and deprived of life) persons of righteous deeds, possessed of noble birth and great knowledge, proceeded to heaven in consequence of those glorious deeds of theirs while their bodies only lay on Earth. Then the chief, belonging to thy army, of various realms, filled with wrath and accompanied by their followers, rushed against Arjuna, that foremost of car-warriors. Warriors borne on their cars and steeds and elephants, and foot-soldiers also, all desirous of slaying (Arjuna), rushed towards him, shooting diverse weapons with great speed. Then Arjuna like wind, by means of keen shafts, destroyed that thick shower of weapons dropped by those warriors constituting a mass of congregated clouds. People then beheld Arjuna crossing that raftless ocean constituted by steeds and foot-soldiers and elephants and cars, and having mighty weapons for its waves, on a bridge constituted by his own mighty weapons of offence and defence. Then Vasudeva, addressing Partha, said, "Why, O sinless one, dost thou sport in this way? Grinding these samsaptakas, haste thyself for Karna's slaughter." Saying, "So be it" unto Krishna, Arjuna then, forcibly smiting the remnant of the samsaptakas with his weapons, began to destroy them like Indra destroying the Daityas. At that time, with even the closest attention, men could not mark when Arjuna took out his shafts, when he aimed them and when he let them off quickly. Govinda himself, O Bharata, regarded it wonderful. Like swans diving into a lake the shafts of Arjuna, white and active as swans, penetrated into the hostile force. Then Govinda, beholding the field of battle during the progress of that carnage, said these words to Savyasaci, "Here, O Partha, for the sake of Duryodhana alone, occurreth this great and terrible destruction of the Bharatas and other kings of Earth. Behold, O son of Bharata, these bows, with golden backs, of many mighty bowmen, and these girdles and quivers loosened from their bodies. Behold these straight shafts equipped with wings of gold, and these long arrows washed with oil and looking like snakes freed from their sloughs. Behold these beautiful lances decked with gold lying scattered about, and these coats of mail, O Bharata, adorned with gold and fallen off from the bodies of the warriors. Behold these spears embellished with gold, these darts adorned with the same metal, and these huge maces twined round with threads of gold, and cords of hemp. Behold these swords decked with bright gold and these axes adorned with the same, and these battle-axes equipped with gold-decked handles. Behold also these spiked clubs, these short arrows, these Bhusundis, and these Kanapas; these iron Kuntas lying around, and these heavy Mushalas. These victory-longing warriors endued with great activity and armed with diverse weapons, though dead, still seem to be quick with life. Behold those thousands of warriors, their limbs crushed with maces, and heads split with Mushalas or smashed and trod by elephants and steeds and cars. O slayer of foes, the field of battle is strewn with the bodies of men and elephants and steeds, deprived of life, dreadfully mangled with shafts and darts and swords and lances and scimitars and axes and spears and Nakharas and bludgeons, and bathed in streams of blood. Strewn with arms smeared with sandal-paste and decked with Angadas and graced with auspicious indications and cased in leathern fences and adorned with Keyuras, the Earth looks resplendent, O Bharata. Strewn also with hands having fingers cased in fences, decked with ornaments, and lopped off from arms, and with severed thighs looking like the trunks of elephants, of heroes endued with great activity and with heads adorned with earrings and headgears set with gems, (the Earth looks exceedingly beautiful). Behold those beautiful cars, decked with golden bells, broken in diverse ways. Behold those numerous steeds bathed in blood, those bottoms of cars and long quivers, and diverse kinds of standards and banners and those huge conchs, of the combatants, and those yak-tails perfectly white, and those elephants with tongues lolling out and lying on the field like hills, and those beautiful with triumphal banners, and those slain elephant-warriors, and those rich coverlets, each consisting of one piece of blanket, for the backs of those huge beasts, and those beautiful and variegated and torn blankets, and those numerous bells loosened from the bodies of elephants and broken into fragments by those falling creatures, and those hooks with handles set with stones of lapis lazuli fallen upon the Earth, and those ornamental yokes of steeds, and those armours set with diamonds for their breasts and those rich cloths, adorned with gold and tied to the ends of the standards borne by horsemen, and those variegated coverlets and housings and Ranku skins, set with brilliant gems and inlaid with gold, for the backs of steeds and fallen on the ground, and those large diamonds adorning the head-gears of kings, and those beautiful necklaces of gold, and those umbrellas displaced from their positions, and those yak-tails and fans. Behold the earth strewn with faces adorned with earrings bright as the moon or stars, and embellished with well-cut beards, and each looking like the full moon. The earth, strewn with those faces looking like lilies and lotuses, resembles a lake adorned with a dense assemblage of lilies and lotuses. Behold, the earth possessing the effulgence of the bright moon and diversified as if with myriads of stars, looks like the autumnal firmament bespangled with stellar lights. O Arjuna, these feats that have been achieved by thee in great battle today are, indeed, worthy of thee or of the chief of the celestials himself in heaven." Even thus did Krishna show the field of battle unto Arjuna. And while returning (from the field to their camp), they heard a loud noise in the army of Duryodhana. Indeed the uproar that was heard consisted of the blare of conchs and the beat of cymbals and drums and Patahas and the clatter of car wheels, the neighing of steeds, the grunt of elephants, and the fierce clash of weapons. Penetrating into that force by the aid of his steeds possessing the fleetness of the wind, Krishna became filled with wonder upon beholding the army grinded by Pandya. Like Yama himself slaying creatures whose lives have run out, Pandya, that foremost of warriors skilled in shafts and weapons, was destroying crowds of foes by means of diverse kinds of shafts. Piercing the bodies of the elephants and steeds and men with sharp shafts, that foremost of smiters overthrew and deprived them of life. Cutting off with his own shafts the diverse weapons hurled at him by many foremost of foes, Pandya slew his enemies like Sakra (Indra) destroying the Danavas.'" 20 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Thou didst mention to me before the name of Pandya, that hero of world-wide celebrity, but his feats, O Sanjaya, in battle have never been narrated by thee. Tell me today in detail of the prowess of that great hero, his skill, spirit, and energy, the measure of his might, and his pride.' "Sanjaya said, 'Bhishma and Drona and Kripa and Drona's son and Karna and Arjuna and Janardana, those thorough masters of the science of weapons, are regarded by thee as the foremost of car-warriors. Know, however, that Pandya regarded himself superior to all these foremost of car-warriors in energy. Indeed he never regarded any one amongst the kings as equal to himself. He never admitted his equality with Karna and Bhishma. Nor did he admit within his heart that he was inferior in any respect to Vasudeva or Arjuna. Even such was Pandya, that foremost of kings, that first of wielder of weapons. Filled with rage like the Destroyer himself, Pandya at the time was slaughtering the army of Karna. That force, swelling with cars and steeds and teeming with foremost of foot-soldiers, struck by Pandya, began to turn round like the potter's wheel. Like the wind dispersing a mass of congregated clouds, Pandya, with his well shot arrows, began to disperse that force, destroying its steeds and drivers and standards and cars and causing its weapons and elephants to fall down. Like the splitter of mountains striking down mountains with his thunder, Pandya overthrew elephants with their riders, having previously cut down the standards and banners and weapons with which they were armed, as also the foot-soldiers that protected those beasts. And he cut down horses, and horsemen with their darts and lances and quivers. Mangling with his shafts the Pulindas, the Khasas, the Bahlikas, the Nishadas, the Andhakas, the Tanganas, the Southerners, and the Bhojas, all of whom, endued with great courage, were unyielding and obstinate in battle, and divesting them of their weapons and coats of mail, Pandya deprived them of their lives. Beholding Pandya destroying with his shafts in battle that host consisting of four kinds of forces, the son of Drona fearlessly proceeded towards that fearless warrior. Fearlessly addressing in sweet words that warrior who then seemed to dance on his car, Drona's son, that foremost of smiters, smiling the while, summoned him and said, "O king, O thou with eyes like the petals of the lotus, thy birth is noble and learning great. Of celebrated might and prowess, thou resemblest Indra himself. Stretching with thy two massive arms the bow held by thee and whose large string is attached to thy grasp, thou lookest beautiful like a mass of congregated clouds as thou pourest over thy foes thick showers of impetuous shafts. I do not see anybody save myself that can be a match for thee in battle. Alone thou crushest numerous cars and elephants and foot-soldiers and steeds, like the fearless lion of terrible might crushing herds of deer in the forest. Making the welkin and the Earth resound with the loud clatter of thy car-wheels thou lookest resplendent, O king, like a crop-destroying autumnal cloud of loud roars. Taking out of thy quiver and shooting thy keen shafts resembling snakes of virulent poison fight with myself only, like (the asura) Andhaka fighting with the three-eyed deity." Thus addressed, Pandya answered, "So be it." Then Drona's son, telling him "Strike," assailed him with vigour. In return, Malayadhwaja pierced the son of Drona with a barbed arrow. Then Drona's son, that best of preceptors, smiling the while, struck Pandya with some fierce arrows, capable of penetrating into the very vitals and resembling flames of fire. Then Ashvatthama once more sped at his foe some other large arrows equipped with keen points and capable of piercing the very vitals, causing them to course through the welkin with the ten different kinds of motion. Pandya, however, with nine shafts of his cut off all those arrows of his antagonist. With four other shafts he afflicted the four steeds of his foe, at which they speedily expired. Having then, with his sharp shafts, cut off the arrows of Drona's son, Pandya then cut off the stretched bow-string of Ashvatthama, endued with the splendour of the sun. Then Drona's son, that slayer of foes, stringing his unstringed bow, and seeing that his men had meanwhile speedily yoked other excellent steeds unto his car, sped thousands of arrows (at his foe). By this, that regenerate one filled the entire welkin and the ten points of the compass with his arrows. Although knowing that those shafts of the high-souled son of Drona employed in shooting were really inexhaustible, yet Pandya, that bull among men, cut them all into pieces. The antagonist of Ashvatthama, carefully cutting off all those shafts shot by the latter, then slew with his own keen shafts the two protectors of the latter's car wheels in that encounter. Beholding the lightness of hand displayed by his foe, Drona's son, drawing his bow to a circle, began to shoot his arrows like a mass of clouds pouring torrents of rain. During that space of time, O sire, which consisted only of the eighth part of a day, the son of Drona shot as many arrows as were carried on eight carts each drawn by eight bullocks. Almost all those men that then beheld Ashvatthama, who at the time looked like the Destroyer himself filled with rage, or rather the Destroyer of the Destroyer, lost their senses. Like a mass of clouds at the close of summer drenching with torrents of rain, the Earth with her mountains and trees, the preceptor's son poured on that hostile force his arrowy shower. Baffling with the Vayavya weapon that unbearable shower of arrows shot by the Ashvatthama-cloud, the Pandya-wind, filled with joy, uttered loud roars. Then Drona's son cutting off the standard, smeared with sandal-paste and other perfumed unguents and bearing the device of the Malaya mountain on it, of the roaring Pandya, slew the four steeds of the latter. Slaying then his foe's driver with a single shaft, and cutting off with a crescent-shaped arrow the bow also of that warrior whose twang resembled the roar of the clouds, Ashvatthama cut off his enemy's car into minute fragments. Checking with the weapons those of his enemy, and cutting off all the weapons of the latter, Drona's son, although he obtained the opportunity to do his enemy the crowning evil, still slew him not, from desire of battling with him for some time more. Meanwhile Karna rushed against the large elephant force of the Pandavas and began to rout and destroy it. Depriving car-warriors of their cars, he struck elephants and steeds and human warriors, O Bharata, with innumerable straight shafts. That mighty bowman, the son of Drona, although he had made Pandya, that slayer of foes and foremost of car-warriors, carless, yet he did not slay him from desire of fight. At that time a huge riderless elephant with large tusks, well-equipped with all utensils of war, treading with speed, endued with great might, quick to proceed against any enemy, struck with Ashvatthama's shafts, advanced towards the direction of Pandya with great impetuosity, roaring against a hostile compeer. Beholding that prince of elephants, looking like a cloven mountain summit, Pandya, who was well acquainted with the method of fighting from the neck of an elephant, quickly ascended that beast like a lion springing with a loud roar to the top of a mountain summit. Then that lord of the prince of mountains, striking the elephant with the hook, and inspired with rage, and with that cool care for which he was distinguished in hurling weapons with great force, quickly sped a lance, bright as Surya's rays, at the preceptor's son and uttered a loud shout. Repeatedly shouting in joy, "Thou art slain, Thou art slain!" Pandya (with that lance) crushed to pieces the diadem of Drona's son adorned with foremost of jewels and diamonds of the first water and the very best kind of gold and excellent cloth and strings of pearls. That diadem possessed of the splendour of the Sun, the Moon, the planets, or the fire, in consequence of the violence of the stroke, fell down, split into fragments, like a mountain summit riven by Indra's thunder, falling down on the Earth with great noise. At this, Ashvatthama blazed up with exceeding rage like a prince of snakes struck with the foot, and took up four and ten shafts capable of inflicting great pain upon foes and each resembling the Destroyer's rod. With five of those shafts he cut off the four feet and the trunk of his adversary's elephant, and with three the two arms and the head of the king, and with six he slew the six mighty car-warriors, endued with great effulgence, that followed king Pandya. Those long and well-rounded arms of the king, smeared with excellent sandal-paste, and adorned with gold and pearls and gems and diamonds falling upon the Earth, began to writhe like a couple of snakes slain by Garuda. That head also, graced with a face bright as the full Moon, having a prominent nose and a pair of large eyes, red as copper with rage, adorned with earrings, falling on the ground, looked resplendent like the Moon himself between two bright constellations. The elephant, thus cut off by that skilful warrior into six pieces with those five shafts and the king into four pieces with those three shafts lay divided in all into ten pieces that looked like the sacrificial butter distributed into ten portions intended for the ten deities. Having cut off numerous steeds and men and elephants into pieces and offered them as food into the Rakshasas, king Pandya was thus quieted by Drona's son with his shafts like a blazing fire in a crematorium, extinguished with water after it has received a libation in the shape of a lifeless body. Then like the chief of the celestials joyfully worshipping Vishnu after the subjugation of the Asura Vali, thy son, the king, accompanied by his brothers approaching the preceptor's son worshipped with great respect that warrior who is a complete master of the science of arms, after indeed, he had completed the task he had undertaken.'" 21 "Dhritarashtra said, 'When Pandya had been slain and when that foremost of heroes, viz., Karna was employed in routing and destroying the foe, what, O Sanjaya, did Arjuna do in battle? That son of Pandu is a hero, endued with great might, attentive to his duties, and a complete master of the science of arms. The high-souled Sankara himself hath made him invincible among all creatures. My greatest fears proceed from that Dhananjaya, that slayer of foes. Tell me, O Sanjaya, all that Partha achieved there on that occasion.' "Sanjaya said, 'After Pandya's fall, Krishna quickly said unto Arjuna these beneficial words, "I do not behold the King. The other Pandavas also have retreated. If the Parthas had returned, the vast force of the enemy would have been broken. In fulfilment of purposes entertained by Ashvatthama, Karna is slaying the Srinjayas. A great carnage is being made (by that warrior) of steeds and car-warriors and elephants." Thus the heroic Vasudeva represented everything unto the diadem-decked (Arjuna). Hearing of and beholding that great danger of his brother (Yudhishthira), Partha quickly addressed Krishna, saying, "Urge the steeds, O Hrishikesha." Then Hrishikesha proceeded on that irresistible car. The encounter then that once more took place became exceedingly fierce. The Kurus and the Pandavas once more fearlessly closed with each other, that is, the Parthas headed by Bhimasena and ourselves headed by the Suta's son. Then, O best of kings, there once more commenced a battle between Karna and the Pandavas that swelled the population of Yama's kingdom. With bows and arrows and spiked clubs and swords and lances and axes and short clubs and Bhushundis and darts and rapiers and battle-axes and maces and spears and polished Kuntas, and short shafts and hooks, the combatants quickly fell upon one another, desirous of taking one another's life. Filling the welkin, the cardinal points of the compass, the subsidiary ones, the firmament, and the Earth, with the whizz of arrows, the twang of bow-strings, the sound of palms, and the clatter of car-wheels, foes rushed upon foes. Gladdened by that loud noise, heroes, fought with heroes desirous of reaching the end of the hostilities. Loud became the noise caused by the sound of bow-strings and fences and bows, the grunt of elephants, and the shouts of foot-soldiers and falling men. Hearing the terrible whizz of arrows and the diverse shouts of brave warriors, the troops took fright, became pale, and fell down. Large numbers of those foes thus employed in shouting and shooting weapons, the heroic son of Adhiratha crushed with his arrows. With his shafts Karna then despatched to Yama's abode twenty car-warriors among the brave Pancala heroes, with their steeds, drivers, and standards. Then many foremost of warriors of the Pandava army, endued with great energy and quick in the use of weapons, speedily wheeling round, encompassed Karna on all sides. Karna agitated that hostile force with showers of weapons like the leader of an elephantine herd plunging into a lake adorned with lotuses and covered with swans. Penetrating into the midst of his foes, the son of Radha, shaking his best of bows, began to strike off and fell their heads with his sharp shafts. The shield and coats of mail of the warriors, cut off, fell down on the Earth. There was none amongst them that needed the touch of a second arrow of Karna's. Like a driver striking the steeds with the whip, Karna, with his shafts capable of crushing coats of mail and bodies and the life that quickened them, struck the fences (of his foes) perceivable only by their bow-strings. Like a lion grinding herds of deer, Karna speedily grinded all those Pandus and Srinjayas and Pancalas that came within range of his arrows. Then the chief of the Pancalas, and the sons of Draupadi, O sire, and the twins, and Yuyudhana, uniting together, proceeded against Karna. When those Kurus, and Pancalas and Pandus were thus engaged in battle, the other warriors, reckless of their very lives, began to strike at one another. Well-cased in armour and coats of mail and adorned with head-gears, combatants endued with great strength rushed at their foes, with maces and short clubs and spiked bludgeons looking like uplifted rods of the Destroyer, and jumping, O sire, and challenging one another, uttered loud shouts. They struck one another, and fell down, assailed by one another with blood rising from their limbs and deprived of brains and eyes and weapons. Covered with weapons, some, as they lay there with faces beautiful as pomegranates, having teeth-adorned mouths filled with blood, seemed to be alive. Others, in that vast ocean of battle, filled with rage mangled or cut or pierced or overthrew or lopped off or slew one another with battle-axes and short arrows and hooks and spears and lances. Slain by one another they fell down, covered with blood and deprived of life like sandal trees cut down with the axe falling down and shedding as they fall their cool blood-red juice. Cars destroyed by cars, elephants by elephants, men by men, and steeds by steeds, fell down in thousands. Standards, and heads, and umbrellas, and elephants, trunks, and human arms, cut off with razor-faced or broad-headed or crescent-shaped arrows, fell down on the Earth. Large numbers also of men, and elephants, and cars with steed yoked thereto, were crushed in that battle. Many brave warriors, slain by horsemen, fell down, and many tuskers, with their trunks cut off, and banners and standards (on their bodies), fell down like fallen mountains. Assailed by foot-soldiers, many elephants and cars, destroyed or in course of destruction, fell down on all sides. Horsemen, encountering foot-soldiers with activity, were slain by the latter. Similarly crowds of foot-soldiers, slain by horsemen, laid themselves down on the field. The faces and the limbs of those slain in that dreadful battle looked like crushed lotuses and faded floral wreaths. The beautiful forms of elephants and steeds and human beings, O king, then resembled cloths foul with dirt, and became exceedingly repulsive to look at.'" 22 "Sanjaya said, 'Many elephant-warriors riding on their beasts, urged by thy son, proceeded against Dhrishtadyumna, filled with rage and desirous of compassing his destruction. Many foremost of combatants skilled in elephant-fight, belonging to the Easterners, the Southerners, the Angas, the Vangas, the Pundras, the Magadhas, the Tamraliptakas, the Mekalas, the Koshalas, the Madras, the Dasharnas, the Nishadas uniting with the Kalingas, O Bharata, and showering shafts and lances and arrows like pouring clouds, drenched the Pancala force therewith in that battle. Prishata's son covered with his arrows and shafts those (foe-crushing) elephants urged forward by their riders with heels and toes and hooks. Each of those beasts that were huge as hills, the Pancala hero pierced with ten, eight, or six whetted shafts, O Bharata. Beholding the prince of the Pancalas shrouded by those elephants like the Sun by the clouds, the Pandus and the Pancalas proceeded towards him (for his rescue) uttering loud roars and armed with sharp weapons. Pouring their weapons upon those elephants, those warriors began to dance the dance of heroes, aided by the music of their bow-strings and the sound of their palms, and urged by heroes beating the time. Then Nakula and Sahadeva, and the sons of Draupadi, and the Prabhadrakas, and Satyaki, and Shikhandi, and Chekitana endued with great energy,--all those heroes--drenched those elephants from every side with their weapons, like the clouds drenching the hills with their showers. Those furious elephants, urged on by Mleccha warriors dragging down with their trunks men and steeds and cars, crushed them with their feet. And some they pierced with the points of their tusks, and some they raised aloft and dashed down on the ground; others taken aloft on the tusks of those huge beasts, fell down inspiring spectators with fear. Then Satyaki, piercing the vitals of the elephant belonging to the king of the Vangas staying before him, with a long shaft endued with great impetuosity, caused it to fall down on the field of battle. Then Satyaki pierced with another long shaft the chest of the rider whom he could not hitherto touch, just as the latter was about to jump from the back of his beast. Thus struck by Satwata, he fell down on the Earth. "'Meanwhile Sahadeva, with three shafts shot with great care, struck the elephant of Pundra, as it advanced against him like a moving mountain, depriving it of its standard and driver and armour and life. Having thus cut off that elephant, Sahadeva proceeded against the chief of the Angas. "'Nakula, however, causing Sahadeva to desist, himself afflicted the ruler of the Angas with three long shafts, each resembling the rod of Yama, and his foe's elephant with a hundred arrows. Then the ruler of the Angas hurled at Nakula eight hundred lances bright as the rays of the Sun. Each of these Nakula cut off into three fragments. The son of Pandu then cut off the head of his antagonist with a crescent-shaped arrow. At this that Mleccha king, deprived of life, fell down with the animal he rode. Upon the fall of the prince of the Angas who was well-skilled in elephant-lore, the elephant-men of the Angas, filled with rage, proceeded with speed against Nakula, on their elephants decked with banners that waved in the air, possessing excellent mouths, adorned with housings of gold, and looking like blazing mountains, from desire of crushing him to pieces. And many Mekalas and Utkalas, and Kalingas, and Nishadas, and Tamraliptakas, also advanced against Nakula, showering their shafts and lances, desirous of slaying him. Then the Pandus, the Pancalas, and the Somakas, filled with rage, rushed with speed for the rescue of Nakula shrouded by those warriors like the Sun by the clouds. Then occurred a fierce battle between those car-warriors and elephant-men, the former showering their arrows and shafts the latter their lances by thousands. The frontal globes and other limbs and the tusks and adornments of the elephants, exceedingly pierced with shafts, were split and mangled. Then Sahadeva, with four and sixty impetuous arrows, quickly slew eight of those huge elephants which fell down with their riders. And Nakula also, that delighter of his race, bending his excellent bow with great vigour, with many straight shafts, slew many elephants. Then the Pancala prince, and the grandson of Sini (Satyaki) and the sons of Draupadi and the Prabhadrakas, and Shikhandi, drenched those huge elephants with showers of shafts. Then in consequence of those rain-charged clouds constituted by the Pandava warriors, those hills constituted by the elephants of the foe, fell, struck down by torrents of rain formed by their numerous shafts, like real mountains struck down with a thunder-storm. Those leaders of the Pandava car-warriors then, thus slaying those elephants of thine cast their eyes on the hostile army, which, as it fled away at that time resembled a river whose continents had been washed away. Those warriors of Pandu's son, having thus agitated that army of thine, agitated it once more, and then rushed against Karna.'" 23 "Sanjaya said, 'While Sahadeva, filled with rage, was thus blasting thy host, Duhshasana, O great king, proceeded against him, the brother against the brother. Beholding those two engaged in dreadful combat, all the great car-warriors uttered leonine shouts and waved their garments. Then, O Bharata, the mighty son of Pandu was struck in the chest with three arrows by thy angry son armed with bow. Then Sahadeva, O king, having first pierced thy son with an arrow, pierced him again with seventy arrows, and then his driver with three. Then Duhshasana, O monarch, having cut off Sahadeva's bow in that great battle, pierced Sahadeva himself with three and seventy arrows in the arms and the chest. Then Sahadeva filled with rage, took up a sword, in that dreadful conflict, and whirling, hurled it quickly towards the car of thy son. Cutting off Duhshasana's bow with string and arrow fixed on it, that large sword fell down on the Earth like a snake from the firmament. Then the valiant Sahadeva taking up another bow, shot a deadly shaft at Duhshasana. The Kuru warrior, however, with his keen-edged sword, cut off into two fragments that shaft, bright as the rod of Death, as it coursed towards him. Then whirling that sharp sword, Duhshasana quickly hurled it in that battle at his foe. Meanwhile that valiant warrior took up another bow with a shaft. Sahadeva, however, with the greatest ease, cut off, with his keen shafts, that sword as it coursed towards him, and caused it to fall down in that battle. Then, O Bharata, thy son, in that dreadful battle, quickly sped four and sixty shafts at the car of Sahadeva. Sahadeva, however, O king, cut off every one of those numerous arrows as they coursed with great impetuosity towards him, with five shafts of his. Checking then those mighty shafts sped by thy son, Sahadeva, in that battle, sped a large number of arrows at his foe. Cutting off each of those shafts with three shafts of his, thy son uttered a loud shout, making the whole Earth resound with it. Then Duhshasana, O king, having pierced Sahadeva in that battle, struck the latter's driver with nine arrows. The valiant Sahadeva then, O monarch, filled with rage, fixed on his bow-string a terrible shaft resembling the Destroyer himself and forcibly drawing the bow, he sped that shaft at thy son. Piercing with great speed through his strong armour and body, that shaft entered the Earth, O king, like a snake penetrating into an ant-hill. Then thy son, that great car-warrior, swooned away, O king. Beholding him deprived of his senses, his driver quickly took away the car, himself forcibly struck all the while with keen arrows. Having vanquished the Kuru warrior thus, the son of Pandu, beholding Duryodhana's division, began to crush it on all sides. Indeed, O king, as a man excited with wrath crushes swarm of ants, even so, O Bharata did that son of Pandu begin to crush the Kaurava host.'" 24 "Sanjaya said, 'While Nakula was employed in destroying and routing the Kaurava divisions in battle with great force, Vikartana's son Karna, filled with rage, checked him, O king. Then Nakula smiling the while, addressed Karna, and said, "After a long time, through the favour of the gods, I am seen by thee, and thou also, O wretch, dost become the object of my sight. Thou art the root of all these evils, this hostility, this quarrel. It is through thy faults that the Kauravas are being thinned, encountering one another. Slaying thee in battle today, I will regard myself as one that has achieved his object, and the fever of my heart will be dispelled." Thus addressed by Nakula, the Suta's son said unto him the following words befitting a prince and a bowman in particular, "Strike me, O hero. We desire to witness thy manliness. Having achieved some feats in battle, O brave warrior, thou shouldst then boast. O sire, they that are heroes fight in battle to the best of their powers, without indulging in brag. Fight now with me to the best of thy might. I will quell thy pride." Having said these words the Suta's son quickly struck the son of Pandu and pierced him, in that encounter, with three and seventy shafts. Then Nakula, O Bharata, thus pierced by the Suta's son, pierced the latter in return with eighty shafts resembling snakes of virulent poison. Then Karna, that great bowman, cutting off his antagonist's bow with a number of arrows winged with gold and whetted on stone, afflicted him with thirty arrows. Those arrows, piercing through his armour drank his blood in that battle, like the Nagas of virulent poison drinking water after having pierced through the Earth. Then Nakula, taking up another formidable bow whose back was decked with gold, pierced Karna with twenty arrows and his driver with three. Then, O monarch, that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., Nakula, filled with rage, cut off Karna's bow with a razor-headed shaft of great keenness. Smiling the while, the heroic son of Pandu then struck the bowless Karna, that foremost of car-warriors, with three hundred arrows. Beholding Karna thus afflicted, O sire, by the son of Pandu, all the car-warriors there, with the gods (in the welkin), were filled with great wonder. Then Vikartana's son Karna taking up another bow, struck Nakula with five arrows in the shoulder-joint. With those arrows sticking to him here, the son of Madri looked resplendent like the Sun with his own rays while shedding his light on the Earth. Then Nakula piercing Karna with seven shafts, once more, O sire, cut off one of the horns of Karna's bow. Then Karna, taking up in that battle a tougher bow, filled the welkin on every side of Nakula with his arrows. The mighty car-warrior, Nakula, however, thus suddenly shrouded with the arrows shot from Karna's bow quickly cut off all those shafts with shafts of his own. Then was seen overspread in the welkin a vast number of arrows like to the spectacle presented by the sky when it is filled with myriads of roving fireflies. Indeed, the sky shrouded with those hundreds of arrows shot (by both the warriors) looked, O monarch, as if it was covered with flights of locusts. Those arrows, decked with gold, issuing repeatedly in continuous lines, looked beautiful like rows of cranes while flying through the welkin. When the sky was thus covered with showers of arrows and the sun himself hid from the view, no creature ranging the air could descend on the Earth. When all sides were thus covered with showers of arrows, those two high-souled warriors looked resplendent like two Suns risen at the end of the Yuga. Slaughtered with the shafts issuing from Karna's bow the Somakas, O monarch, greatly afflicted and feeling much pain, began to breathe their last. Similarly, thy warriors, struck with the shafts of Nakula, dispersed on all sides, O king, like clouds tossed by the wind. The two armies thus slaughtered by those two warriors with their mighty celestial shafts, retreated from the range of those arrows and stood as spectators of the encounter. When both the armies were driven off by means of the shafts of Karna and Nakula, those two high-souled warriors began to pierce each other with showers of shafts. Displaying their celestial weapons on the field of battle, they quickly shrouded each other, each desirous of compassing the destruction of the other. The shafts shot by Nakula, dressed with Kanka and peacock feathers, shrouding the Suta's son, seemed to stay in the welkin. Similarly, the shafts sped by the Suta's son in that dreadful battle, shrouding the son of Pandu, seemed to stay in the welkin. Shrouded within arrowy chambers, both the warriors became invisible, like the Sun and the Moon, O king, hidden by the clouds. Then Karna, filled with rage and assuming a terrible aspect in the battle, covered the son of Pandu with showers of arrows from every side. Completely covered, O monarch, by the Suta's son, the son of Pandu felt no pain like the Maker of day when covered by the clouds. The son of Adhiratha then, smiling the while, sped arrowy lines, O sire, in hundreds and thousands, in that battle. With those shafts of the high-souled Karna, an extensive shade seemed to rest on the field of battle. Indeed, with those excellent shafts constantly issuing out (of his bow), a shade was caused there like that formed by the clouds. Then Karna, O monarch, cutting off the bow of the high-souled Nakula, felled the latter's driver from the car-niche with the greatest ease. With four keen shafts, next, he quickly despatched the four steeds of Nakula, O Bharata, to the abode of Yama. With his shafts, he also cut off into minute fragments that excellent car of his antagonist as also his standard and the protectors of his car-wheels, and mace, and sword, and shield decked with a hundred moons, and other utensils and equipments of battle. Then Nakula, steedless and carless and armourless, O monarch, quickly alighting from his car, stood, armed with a spiked bludgeon. Even that terrible bludgeon, so uplifted by the son of Pandu, the Suta's son, O king, cut off with many keen arrows capable of bearing a great strain. Beholding his adversary weaponless. Karna began to strike him with many straight shafts, but took care not to afflict him greatly. Thus struck in that battle by that mighty warrior accomplished in weapons, Nakula, O king, fled away precipitately in great affliction. Laughing repeatedly, the son of Radha pursued him and placed his stringed bow, O Bharata, around the neck of the retreating Nakula. With the large bow around his neck, O king, the son of Pandu looked resplendent like Moon in the firmament when within a circular halo of light, or a white cloud girdled round by Indra's bow. Then Karna, addressing him, said, "The words thou hadst uttered were futile. Canst thou utter them now once more in joy, repeatedly struck as thou art by me? Do not, O son of Pandu, fight again with those amongst the Kurus that are possessed of greater might. O child, fight with them that are thy equals. Do not, O son of Pandu, feel any shame for it. Return home, O son of Madri, or go thither where Krishna and Phalguna are." Having addressed him thus he abandoned him then. Acquainted with morality as the brave Karna was, he did not then slay Nakula who was already within the jaws of death. Recollecting the words of Kunti, O king, Karna let Nakula go. The son of Pandu, thus let off, O king, by that bowman, Suta's son, proceeded towards Yudhishthira's car in great shame. Scorched by the Suta's son, he then ascended his brother's car, and burning with grief he continued to sigh like a snake kept within a jar. Meanwhile Karna, having vanquished Nakula, quickly proceeded against the Pancalas, riding on that car of his which bore many gorgeous pennons and whose steeds were as white as the Moon. There, O monarch, a great uproar arose among the Pandavas when they saw the leader of the Kaurava army proceeding towards the Pancala car-throngs. The Suta's son, O monarch, made a great massacre there at that hour when the Sun had reached the meridian, that puissant warrior careering all the while with the activity of a wheel. We beheld many Pancala car-warriors borne away from the battle on their steedless and driverless cars with broken wheels and broken axles and with standards and pennons also that were broken and torn, O sire. And many elephants were seen to wander there in all directions (with limbs scorched by arrows) like individuals of their species in the wide forest with limbs scorched and burned in a forest conflagration. Others with their frontal globes split open, or bathed in blood, or with trunks lopped off, or with their armour cut down, or their tails lopped off, fell down, struck by the high-souled Karna, like straggling clouds. Other elephants, frightened by the shafts and lances of Radha's son proceeded against Radha's son himself like insects towards a blazing fire. Other huge elephants were seen striking against one another and shedding blood from various limbs like mountains with rillets running down their breasts. Steeds of the foremost breed, divested of breast-plates and their ornaments of silver and brass and gold, destitute of trappings and bridle-bits and yak-tails and saddle-cloths, with quivers fallen off from their backs, and with their heroic riders,--ornaments of battle,--slain, were seen wandering here and there on the field. Pierced and cut with lances and scimitars and swords, O Bharata, we beheld many a horseman adorned with armour and head-gear, slain or in course of being slain or trembling with fear, and deprived, O Bharata, of diverse limbs. Cars also, decked with gold, and unto which were yoked steeds of great fleetness, were seen by us dragged with exceeding speed hither and thither, their riders having been slain. Some of these had their axles and poles broken, and some, O Bharata, had their wheels broken; and some were without banners and standards, and some were divested of their shafts. Many car-warriors also were seen there, by us, O monarch, wandering all around, deprived of their cars and scorched with the shafts of the Suta's son. And some destitute of weapons and some with weapons still in their arms were seen lying lifeless on the field in large numbers. And many elephants also were seen by us, wandering in all directions, studded with clusters of stars, adorned with rows of beautiful bells, and decked with variegated banners of diverse hues. Heads and arms and chests and other limbs, cut off with shafts sped from Karna's bow, were beheld by us lying around. A great and fierce calamity overtook the warriors (of the Pandava army) as they fought with whetted arrows, and mangled as they were with the shafts of Karna. The Srinjayas, slaughtered in that battle by the Suta's son, blindly proceeded against the latter's self like insects rushing upon a blazing fire. Indeed, as that mighty car-warrior was engaged in scorching the Pandava divisions, the Kshatriyas avoided him, regarding him to be the blazing Yuga fire. Those heroic and mighty car-warriors of the Pancala that survived the slaughter fled away. The brave Karna, however, pursued those broken and retreating warriors from behind, shooting his shafts at them. Endued with great energy, he pursued those combatants divested of armour and destitute of standards. Indeed, the Suta's son, possessed of great might, continued to scorch them with his shafts, like the dispeller of darkness scorching all creatures when he attains to the meridian.'" 25 "Sanjaya said, 'Against Yuyutsu who was employed in routing the vast army of thy son, Uluka proceeded with speed saying "Wait, Wait." Then Yuyutsu, O king, with a winged arrow of keen edge struck Uluka with great force, like (Indra himself striking) a mountain with the thunderbolt. Filled with rage at this, Uluka, in that battle, cut off thy son's bow with a razor-headed arrow and struck thy son himself with a barbed shaft. Casting off that broken bow, Yuyutsu, with eyes red in wrath, took up another formidable bow endued with greater impetus. The prince then, O bull of Bharata's race, pierced Uluka with sixty arrows. Piercing next the driver of Uluka, Yuyutsu struck Uluka once more. Then Uluka, filled with rage pierced Yuyutsu with twenty shafts adorned with gold, and then cut off his standard made of gold. That lofty and gorgeous standard made of gold, O king, thus cut off (by Uluka), fell down in front of Yuyutsu's car. Beholding his standard cut off, Yuyutsu, deprived of his senses by wrath, struck Uluka with five shafts in the centre of the chest. Then Uluka, O sire, in that battle, cut off, with a broad-headed arrow steeped in oil, the head of his antagonist's driver, O best of the Bharatas. Slaying next his four steeds he struck Yuyutsu himself with five arrows. Deeply struck by the strong Uluka, Yuyutsu proceeded to another car. Having vanquished him in battle, O king, Uluka proceeded quickly towards the Pancalas and the Srinjayas and began to slaughter them with sharp shafts. Thy son Srutakarman, O monarch, within half the time taken up by a wink of the eye, fearlessly made Satanika steedless and driverless and carless. The mighty car-warrior Satanika, however, staying on his steedless car, O sire, hurled a mace, filled with rage, at thy son. That mace, reducing thy son's car with its steeds and driver into fragments, fell down upon the Earth with great speed, and pierced it through. Then those two heroes, both enhancers of the glory of the Kurus, deprived of their cars, retreated from the encounter, glaring at each other. Then thy son, overcome with fear, mounted upon the car of Vivingsu, while Satanika quickly got upon the car of Prativindhya. Shakuni, filled with rage, pierced Sutasoma with many keen shafts, but failed to make the latter tremble like a torrent of water failing to produce any impression upon a mountain. Beholding that great enemy of his father, Sutasoma covered Shakuni, O Bharata, with many thousands of arrows. Shakuni, however, that warrior of sure aim and conversant with all methods of warfare, actuated by desire of battle, quickly cut off all those shafts with his own winged arrows. Having checked those shafts with his own keen arrows in battle, Shakuni, filled with rage, struck Sutasoma with three arrows. Thy brother-in-law then, O monarch, with his arrows cut off into minute fragments the steeds, the standard, and the driver of his adversary, at which all the spectators uttered a loud shout. Deprived of his steed and car, and having his standard cut off, O sire, the great bowman (Sutasoma), jumping down from his car, stood on the Earth, having taken up a good bow. And he shot a large number of arrows equipped with golden wings and whetted on stone, and shrouded therewith the car of thy brother-in law in that battle. The son of Subala, however, beholding those showers of arrows that resembled a flight of locusts, coming towards his car, did not tremble. On the other hand, that illustrious warrior crushed all those arrows with arrows of his own. The warriors that were present there, as also the Siddhas in the firmament, were highly pleased at sight of that wonderful and incredible feat of Sutasoma, inasmuch as he contended on foot with Shakuni staying in his car. Then Shakuni, with a number of broad-headed shafts of great impetuosity, keen and perfectly straight, cut off, O king, the bow of Sutasoma as also all his quivers. Bowless, and carless, Sutasoma then, uplifting a scimitar of the hue of the blue lotus and equipped with an ivory handle, uttered a loud shout. That scimitar of the intelligent Sutasoma of the hue of the clear sky, as it was whirled by that hero, was regarded by Shakuni to be as fatal as the rod of Death. Armed with that scimitar he suddenly began to career in circles over the arena, displaying, O monarch, the fourteen different kinds of manoeuvres, endued as he was with skill and might. Indeed, he displayed in that battle all those motions such as wheeling about and whirling on high, and making side-thrusts and jumping forward and leaping on high and running above and rushing forward and rushing upwards. The valiant son of Subala then sped a number of arrows at his foe, but the latter quickly cut them off with that excellent scimitar of his as they coursed towards him. Filled with rage (at this), the son of Subala, O king, once more sped at Sutasoma a number of shafts that resembled snakes of virulent poison. Aided by his skill and might, Sutasoma cut off even these with his scimitar, displaying his great activity, and possessed as he was of prowess equal to that of Garuda himself. With a razor-headed arrow of great sharpness, Shakuni then, O king, cut off that bright scimitar of his adversary as the latter careered in circles before him. Thus cut off, (half of) that large scimitar suddenly fell down on the Earth, while half of it, O Bharata, continued in the grasp of Sutasoma. Seeing his sword cut off, the mighty car-warrior Sutasoma retreated six steps and then hurled that half (of the scimitar) which he had in his grasp at his foe. The fragment decked with gold and gems, cutting off the bow, with string, of the illustrious Shakuni, quickly fell down on the Earth. Then Sutasoma went to the great car of Srutakirti. Subala's son also, taking up another formidable and invincible bow, proceeded towards the Pandava army, slaying large numbers of foes (on the way). Beholding the son of Subala careering fearlessly in battle, a loud uproar, O king, arose among the Pandavas in that part of the army. People witnessed those large and proud divisions bristling with arms, routed by the illustrious son of Subala. Even as the chief of the celestials crushed the Daitya army, the son of Subala destroyed that army of the Pandavas.'" 26 "Sanjaya said, 'Kripa, O king, resisted Dhrishtadyumna in battle, like a Sarabha in the forest resisting a proud lion. Checked by the mighty son of Gautama, Prishata's son, O Bharata, could not advance even one step. Beholding Gautama's car in front of Dhrishtadyumna's, all creatures were inspired with fright and regarded the latter's destruction to be at hand. Car-warriors and horsemen, becoming very cheerless, said, "Without doubt, this foremost of men, Sharadvata's son of mighty energy and great intelligence and versed in celestial weapon, is filled with rage at the death of Drona. Will Dhrishtadyumna today escape from the hands of Gautama? Will this vast army escape today this great danger? Will not this Brahmana slay all of us together? The form that he has assumed today, even like that of the Destroyer himself, shows that he will today act after the manner of Drona himself. The preceptor Gautama, endued with great lightness of hands, is ever victorious in battle. Possessing a knowledge of weapons, he is endued with great energy and filled with rage." Diverse speeches like these, uttered by the warriors of both the armies were, O monarch, heard there as those two heroes encountered each other. Drawing deep breath in rage, Sharadvata's son Kripa, O king, began to afflict the son of Prishata in all his vital limbs while the latter stood inactive. Struck in that battle by the illustrious Gautama, Dhrishtadyumna, greatly stupefied, knew not what to do. His driver then, addressing him said, "It is not all right with thee, O son of Prishata. Never before have I seen such a calamity overtake thee in battle. It is a lucky chance, it seems, that these shafts, capable of penetrating the very vitals, sped by that foremost of Brahmanas aiming at thy vital limbs, are not striking thee. I will presently cause the car to turn back, like the current of a river dashed back by the sea. I think that Brahmana, by whom thy prowess hath been annihilated, is incapable of being slain by thee." Thus addressed, Dhrishtadyumna, O king, slowly said, "My mind becometh stupefied, O sire, and perspiration covereth my limbs. My body trembles and my hair stands on end. Avoiding that Brahmana in battle, proceed slowly to where Arjuna is, O charioteer; arrived at the presence of either Arjuna or Bhimasena, prosperity may be mine. Even this is my certain conviction." Then, O monarch, the charioteer, urging the steeds, proceeded to the spot where the mighty bowman Bhimasena was battling with thy troops. Beholding the car, O sire, of Dhrishtadyumna speedily moving away from that spot, Gautama followed it, shooting hundreds of shafts. And that chastiser of foes also repeatedly blew his conch. Indeed, he routed the son of Prishata like Indra routing the Danava Namuci. "'The invincible Shikhandi, the cause of Bhishma's death, was in that battle, resisted by Hridika's son who smiled repeatedly as he fought with the former. Shikhandi, however, encountering the mighty car-warrior of the Hridikas, struck him with five keen and broad-headed shafts at the shoulder-joint. Then the mighty car-warrior Kritavarma filled with rage, pierced his foe with sixty winged arrows. With a single arrow then, he cut off his bow, laughing the while. The mighty son of Drupada, filled with wrath, took up another bow, and addressing the son of Hridika, said, "Wait, Wait." Then, O monarch, Shikhandi sped at his foe ninety shafts of great impetuosity, all equipped with golden wings. Those shafts, however, all recoiled from Kritavarma's armour. Seeing those shafts recoil and scattered on the surface of the Earth, Shikhandi cut off Kritavarma's bow with a keen razor-headed arrow. Filled with wrath he struck the bowless son of Hridika, who then resembled a hornless bull, in the arms and the chest, with eighty arrows. Filled with rage but torn and mangled with shafts, Kritavarma vomited blood through his limbs like a jar disgorging the water with which it is filled. Bathed in blood, the Bhoja king looked beautiful like a mountain, O king, streaked with streams of liquefied red chalk after a shower. The puissant Kritavarma then, taking up another bow with a string and an arrow fixed thereon, struck Shikhandi in his shoulder-joint. With those shafts sticking to his shoulder-joint, Shikhandi looked resplendent like a lordly tree with its spreading branches and twigs. Having pierced each other, the two combatants were bathed in blood, and resembled a couple of bulls that have gored each other with their horns Carefully exerting themselves to slay each other, those two mighty car-warriors moved in a 1,000 circles with their respective cars on that arena. Then Kritavarma, O king, in that encounter, pierced the son of Prishata with seventy shafts all of which were equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone. The ruler of the Bhojas then, that foremost of smiters, sped with great activity a terrible and fatal shaft at his foe. Struck therewith, Shikhandi quickly swooned away. Overcome with stupefaction, he supported himself by seizing his flag-staff. The driver then of that foremost of car-warriors speedily bore him away from the fight. Scorched with the shaft of Hridika's son he drew breath upon breath repeatedly. After the defeat of the heroic son of Drupada, O lord, the Pandava army, slaughtered on all sides, fled away from the field.'" 27 "Sanjaya said, 'The white steeded (Arjuna) also, O monarch, routed thy force even as the winds, approaching a heap of cotton, scatters it on all sides. Against him rushed the Trigartas, the Sivis, the Kauravas, the Salwas, the samsaptakas, and that force which consisted of the Narayanas. And Satyasena and Candradeva, and Mitradeva and Satrunjaya, and Susruta's son, and Citrasena, and Mitravarman, O Bharata, and the king of the Trigartas surrounded by his brothers and by his sons that were all mighty bowmen accomplished in diverse weapons, suddenly advanced, shooting and scattering showers of shafts in that battle, against Arjuna, like a fierce current of water towards the ocean. Those warriors in hundreds of thousands, approaching Arjuna, seemed to melt away like snakes at sight of Garuda. Though slaughtered in battle, they did not still leave the son of Pandu like insects, O monarch, never receding from a blazing fire. Satyasena, in that encounter, pierced that son of Pandu with three arrows, and Mitradeva pierced him with three and sixty, and Candradeva with seven. And Mitravarman pierced him with three and seventy arrows, and Susruta's son with seven. And Satrunjaya pierced him with twenty, and Susharma with nine. Thus pierced in that encounter by many, Arjuna pierced all those kings in return. Indeed, piercing the son of Susruta with seven arrows, he pierced Satyasena with three, Satrunjaya with twenty and Candradeva with eight, Mitradeva with a hundred, Srutasena with three, Mitravarman with nine, and Susharma with eight. Then slaying king Satrunjaya with a number of arrows whetted on stone, he smote off from his trunk, the head, decked with headgear, of Susruta's son. Without any delay he then, with a number of other shafts, despatched Candradeva to the abode of Yama. As regards the other mighty car-warriors vigorously contending with him, he checked each of them with five arrows. Then Satyasena filled with rage, hurled a formidable lance in that battle aiming at Krishna and uttered a leonine roar. That ironmouthed lance having a golden shaft, piercing through the left arm of the high-souled Madhava, penetrated into the Earth. Madhava being thus pierced with that lance in great battle the goad and the reins, O king, fell down from his hands. Beholding Vasudeva's limb pierced through, Pritha's son Dhananjaya mustered all his wrath and addressing Vasudeva said, "O mighty-armed one, bear the car to Satyasena, O puissant one, so that I may, with keen shafts, despatch him to Yama's abode." The illustrious Keshava then, quickly taking up the goad and the reins, caused the steeds to bear the car to the front of Satyasena's vehicle. Beholding the Ruler of the Universe pierced, Pritha's son Dhananjaya, that mighty car-warrior, checking Satyasena with some keen arrows, cut off with a number of broad-headed shafts of great sharpness, the large head of that king decked with earrings, from off his trunk at the head of the army. Having thus cut off Satyasena's head, he then despatched Citravarman with a number of keen shafts, and then the latter's driver, O sire, with a keen calf-toothed arrow. Filled with rage, the mighty Partha then, with hundreds of shafts, felled the samsaptakas in hundreds and thousands. Then, O king, with a razor-headed arrow equipped with wings of silver, that mighty car-warrior cut off the head of the illustrious Mitrasena. Filled with rage he then struck Susharma in the shoulder-joint. Then all the samsaptakas, filled with wrath, encompassed Dhananjaya on all sides and began to afflict him with showers of weapons and make all the points of the compass resound with their shouts. Afflicted by them thus, the mighty car-warrior Jishnu, of immeasurable soul, endued with prowess resembling that of Sakra himself, invoked the Aindra weapon. From that weapon, thousands of shafts, O king, began to issue continually. Then O king, a loud din was heard of falling cars with standards and quivers and yokes, and axles and wheels and traces with chords, of bottoms of cars and wooden fences around them, of arrows and steeds and spears and swords, and maces and spiked clubs and darts and lances and axes, and Sataghnis equipped with wheels and arrows. Thighs and necklaces and Angadas and Keyuras, O sire, and garlands and cuirasses and coats of mail, O Bharata, and umbrellas and fans and heads decked with diadems lay on the battle-field. Heads adorned with earrings and beautiful eyes, and each resembling the full moon, looked, as they lay on the field, like stars in the firmament. Adorned with sandal-paste, beautiful garlands of flowers and excellent robes, many were the bodies of slain warriors that were seen to lie on the ground. The field of battle, terrible as it was, looked like the welkin teeming with vapoury forms. With the slain princes and Kshatriyas of great might and fallen elephants and steeds, the Earth became impassable in that battle as if she were strewn with hills. There was no path on the field for the wheels of the illustrious Pandava's car, engaged as he was in continually slaying his foes and striking down elephants and steeds with his broad-headed shafts. It seemed, O sire, that the wheels of his car stopped in fright at the sight of his own self careering in that battle through that bloody mire. His steeds, however, endued with the speed of the mind or the wind, dragged with great efforts and labour those wheels that had refused to move. Thus slaughtered by Pandu's son armed with the bow, that host fled away almost entirely, without leaving even a remnant, O Bharata, contending with the foe. Having vanquished large numbers of the samsaptakas in battle, Pritha's son Jishnu looked resplendent, like a blazing fire without smoke.'" 28 "Sanjaya said, 'King Duryodhana, O monarch, himself fearlessly received Yudhishthira, as the latter was engaged in shooting large numbers of shafts. The royal Yudhishthira the just, speedily piercing thy son, that mighty car-warrior, as the latter was rushing towards him with impetuosity, addressed him, saying, "Wait, Wait." Duryodhana, however, pierced Yudhishthira, in return, with nine keen arrows, and filled with great wrath, struck Yudhishthira's driver also with a broad-headed shaft. Then king Yudhishthira sped at Duryodhana three and ten arrows equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone. With four shafts that mighty car-warrior then slew the four steeds of his foe, and with the fifth he cut off from his trunk the head of Duryodhana's driver. With the sixth arrow he felled the (Kuru) king's standard on the Earth, with the seventh his bow, and with the eighth his scimitar. And then with five more shafts king Yudhishthira the just deeply afflicted the Kuru monarch. Thy son, then, alighting from that steedless car, stood on the Earth in imminent danger. Beholding him in that situation of great peril, Karna and Drona's son and Kripa and others rushed suddenly towards the spot, desirous of rescuing the king. Then the (other) sons of Pandu, surrounding Yudhishthira, all proceeded to the encounter, upon which, O king, a fierce battle was fought. Thousands of trumpets then were blown in that great engagement, and a confused din of myriad voices arose there, O king. There where the Pancalas engaged the Kauravas, in battle, men closed with men, and elephants with foremost of elephants. And car-warriors closed with car-warriors, and horse with horse. And the various couples of battling men and animals, of great prowess and armed with diverse kinds of weapons and possessed of great skill presented a beautiful sight, O king, over the field. All those heroes endued with great impetuosity and desirous of compassing the destruction of one another, fought beautifully and with great activity and skill. Observing the (sanctioned) practices of warriors, they slew one another in battle. None of them fought from behind others. For only a very short time that battle presented a beautiful aspect. Soon it became an encounter of mad men, in which the combatants showed no regard for one another. The car-warrior, approaching the elephant, pierced the latter with keen shafts and despatched it to Yama's presence by means of straight arrows. Elephants, approaching steeds, dragged down many of them in that battle, and tore them (with their tusks) most fiercely in diverse places. Large numbers of horsemen also, encompassing many foremost of steeds, made a loud noise with their palms, and closed with them. And those horsemen slew those steeds as they ran hither and thither, as also many huge elephants as these wandered over the field, from behind and the flanks. Infuriate elephants, O king, routing large numbers of steeds, slew them with their tusks or crushed them with great force. Some elephants, filled with wrath pierced with their tusks horses with horsemen. Others seizing such with great force hurled them to the ground with violence. Many elephants, struck by foot-soldiers availing of the proper opportunities, uttered terrible cries of pain and fled away on all sides. Among the foot-soldiers that fled away in that great battle throwing down their ornaments, there were many that were quickly encompassed on the field. Elephant-warriors, riding on huge elephants, understanding indications of victory, wheeled their beasts and causing them to seize those beautiful ornaments, made the beasts to pierce them with their tusks. Other foot-soldiers endued with great impetuosity and fierce might, surrounding those elephant-warriors thus engaged in those spots began to slay them. Others in that great battle, thrown aloft into the air by elephants with their trunks, were pierced by those trained beasts with the points of their tusks as they fell down. Others, suddenly seized by other elephants, were deprived of life with their tusks. Others, borne away from their own divisions into the midst of others, were, O king, mangled by huge elephants which rolled them repeatedly on the ground. Others, whirled on high like fans, were slain in that battle. Others, hither and thither on the field, that stood full in front of other elephants had their bodies exceedingly pierced and torn. Many elephants were deeply wounded with spears and lances and darts in their cheeks and frontal globes and parts between their tusks. Exceedingly afflicted by fierce car-warriors and horsemen stationed on their flanks, many elephants, ripped open, fell down on the Earth. In that dreadful battle many horsemen on their steeds, striking foot-soldiers with their lances, pinned them down to the Earth or crushed them with great force. Some elephants, approaching mail-clad car-warriors, O sire, raised them aloft from their vehicles and hurled them down with great force upon the Earth in that fierce and awful fight. Some huge elephants slain by means of cloth-yard shafts, fell down on the Earth like mountain summits riven by thunder. Combatants, encountering combatants, began to strike each other with their fists, or seizing each other by the hair, began to drag and throw down and mangle each other. Others, stretching their arms and throwing down their foes on the Earth, placed their feet on their chests and with great activity cut off their heads. Some combatant, O king, struck with his feet some foe that was dead, and some, O king, struck off with his sword, the head of a falling foe, and some thrust his weapon into the body of a living foe. A fierce battle took place there, O Bharata, in which the combatants struck one another with fists or seized one another's hair or wrestled with one another with bare arms. In many instances, combatants, using diverse kinds of weapons, took the lives of combatants engaged with others and, therefore, unperceived by them. During the progress of that general engagement when all the combatants were mangled in battle, hundreds and thousands of headless trunks stood up on the field. Weapons and coats of mail, drenched with gore, looked resplendent, like cloths dyed with gorgeous red. Even thus occurred that fierce battle marked by the awful clash of weapons. Like the mad and roaring current of the Ganga it seemed to fill the whole universe with its uproar. Afflicted with shafts, the warriors failed to distinguish friends from foes. Solicitous of victory, the kings fought on because they thought that fight they should. The warriors slew both friends and foes, with whom they came in contact. The combatants of both the armies were deprived of reason by the heroes of both the armies assailing them with fury. With broken cars, O monarch, the fallen elephants, and steeds lying on the ground, and men laid low, the Earth, miry with gore and flesh, and covered with streams of blood, soon became impassable. Karna slaughtered the Pancalas while Dhananjaya slaughtered the Trigartas. And Bhimasena, O king, slaughtered the Kurus and all the elephant divisions of the latter. Even thus occurred that destruction of troops of both the Kurus and the Pandavas, both parties having been actuated by the desire of winning great fame, at that hour when the Sun had passed the meridian.'" 29 "Dhritarashtra said, 'I have heard from thee, O Sanjaya, of many poignant and unbearable griefs as also of the losses sustained by my sons. From what thou hast said unto me, from the manner in which the battle has been fought, it is my certain conviction, O Suta, that the Kauravas are no more. Duryodhana was made carless in that dreadful battle. How did Dharma's son (then) fight, and how did the royal Duryodhana also fight in return? How also occurred that battle which was fought in the afternoon? Tell me all this in detail, for thou art skilled in narration, O Sanjaya.' "Sanjaya said, 'When the troops of both armies were engaged in battle, according to their respective divisions, thy son Duryodhana, O king, riding on another car and filled with rage like a snake of virulent poison, beholding king Yudhishthira the just, quickly addressed his own driver, O Bharata, saying, "Proceed, proceed, quickly take me there, O driver, where the royal son of Pandu, clad in mail shineth under yon umbrella held over his head." Thus urged by the king, the driver, in that battle, quickly urged his royal master's goodly car towards the face of Yudhishthira. At this, Yudhishthira also, filled with rage and looking like an infuriate elephant, urged his own driver saying, "Proceed to where Suyodhana is." Then those two heroes and brothers and foremost of car-warriors encountered each other. Both endued with great energy, both filled with wrath, both difficult of defeat in battle, approaching each other, those two great bowmen began to mangle each other with their arrows in that battle. Then king Duryodhana, in that encounter, O sire, with a broad-headed arrow whetted on stone, cut in twain the bow of the virtuous monarch. Filled with rage, Yudhishthira could not brook that insult. Casting aside his broken bow, with eyes red in wrath, Dharma's son took up another bow at the head of his forces, and then cut off Duryodhana's standard and bow. Duryodhana then, taking up another bow, pierced the son of Pandu. Filled with rage, they continued to shoot showers of shafts at each other. Desirous of vanquishing each other, they resembled a pair of angry lions. They struck each other in that battle like a couple of roaring bulls. Those mighty car-warriors continued to career, expecting to find each other's lapses. Then wounded with shafts sped from bows drawn to their fullest stretch the two warriors, O king, looked resplendent like flowering Kinsukas. They then, O king, repeatedly uttered leonine roars. Those two rulers of men, in that dreadful battle, also made loud sounds with their palms and caused their bows to twang loudly. And they blew their conchs too with great force. And they afflicted each other very much. Then king Yudhishthira, filled with rage, struck thy son in the chest with three irresistible shafts endued with force of thunder. Him, however, thy royal son quickly pierced, in return, with five keen shafts winged with gold and whetted on stone. Then king Duryodhana, O Bharata, hurled a dart capable of slaying everybody, exceedingly keen, and resembling a large blazing brand. As it advanced, king Yudhishthira the just, with sharp shafts, speedily cut it off into three fragments, and then pierced Duryodhana also with five arrows. Equipped with golden staff, and producing a loud whizz, that dart then fell down, and while falling, looked resplendent like a large brand with blazing flames. Beholding the dart baffled, thy son, O monarch, struck Yudhishthira with nine sharp and keen-pointed arrows. Pierced deeply by his mighty foe, that scorcher of foes quickly took up an arrow for aiming it at Duryodhana. The mighty Yudhishthira then placed that arrow on his bow-string. Filled with rage and possessed of great valour, the son of Pandu then shot it at his foe. That arrow, striking thy son, that mighty car-warrior, stupefied him and then (passing through his body) entered the Earth. Then Duryodhana, filled with wrath, uplifting a mace of great impetuosity, rushed at king Yudhishthira the just, for ending the hostilities (that raged between the Kurus and the Pandus). Beholding him armed with that uplifted mace and resembling Yama himself with his bludgeon, king Yudhishthira the just hurled at thy son a mighty dart blazing with splendour, endued with great impetuosity, and looking like a large blazing brand. Deeply pierced in the chest by that dart as he stood on his car, the Kuru prince, deeply pained, fell down and swooned away. Then Bhima, recollecting his own vow, addressed Yudhishthira, saying, "This one should not be slain by thee, O king." At this Yudhishthira abstained from giving his foe the finishing blow. At that time Kritavarma, quickly advancing, came upon thy royal son then sunk in an ocean of calamity. Bhima then, taking up a mace adorned with gold and flaxen chords, rushed impetuously towards Kritavarma in that battle. Thus occurred the battle between thy troops and the foe on that afternoon, O monarch, every one of the combatants being inspired with the desire of victory.'" 30 "Sanjaya said, 'Placing Karna at their van, thy warriors, difficult of defeat in fight, returned and fought (with the foe) a battle that resembled that between the gods and the Asuras. Excited by the loud uproar made by elephants and men and cars and steeds and conchs, elephant-men and car-warriors and foot-soldiers and horsemen, in large numbers, filled with wrath advanced against the foe and slew the latter with strokes of diverse kinds of weapons. Elephants and cars, steeds and men, in that dreadful battle were destroyed by brave warriors with sharp battle axes and swords and axes and shafts of diverse kinds and by means also of their animals. Strewn with human heads that were adorned with white teeth and fair faces and beautiful eyes and goodly noses, and graced with beautiful diadems and earrings, and every one of which resembled the lotus, the Sun, or the Moon, the Earth looked exceedingly resplendent. Elephants and men and steeds, by thousands, were slain with hundreds of spiked clubs and short bludgeons and darts and lances and hooks and Bhusundis and maces. The blood that fell formed a river like currents on the field. In consequence of those car-warriors and men and steeds and elephants slain by the foe, and lying with ghastly features and gaping wounds, the field of battle looked like the domains of the king of the dead at the time of universal dissolution. Then, O god among men, thy troops, and those bulls amongst the Kurus, viz., thy sons resembling the children of the celestials, with a host of warriors of immeasurable might at their van, all proceeded against Satyaki, that bull of Sini's race. Thereupon that host, teeming with many foremost of men and steeds and cars and elephants, producing an uproar loud as that of the vast deep, and resembling the army of the Asuras or that of the celestials, shone with fierce beauty. Then the son of Surya, resembling the chief of the celestials himself in prowess and like unto the younger brother of Indra, struck that foremost one of Sini's race with shafts whose splendour resembled the rays of the Sun. That bull of Sini's race also, in that battle, then quickly shrouded that foremost of men, with his car and steeds and driver, with diverse kinds of shafts terrible as the poison of the snake. Then many Atirathas belonging to thy army, accompanied by elephants and cars and foot-soldiers, quickly approached that bull among car-warriors, viz., Vasusena, when they beheld the latter deeply afflicted with the shafts of that foremost hero of Sini's race. That force, however, vast as the ocean, assailed by foes possessed of great quickness viz., the Pandava warriors headed by the sons of Drupada, fled away from the field. At that time a great carnage occurred of men and cars and steeds and elephants. Then those two foremost of men, viz., Arjuna and Keshava, having said their daily prayer and duly worshipped the lord Bhava, quickly rushed against thy troops, resolved to slay those foes of theirs. Their foes (i.e., the Kurus) cast their eyes cheerlessly on that car whose rattle resembled the roar of the clouds and whose banners waved beautifully in the air and which had white steeds yoked unto it and which was coming towards them. Then Arjuna, bending Gandiva and as if dancing on his car, filled the welkin and all the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, with showers of shafts, not leaving the smallest space empty. Like the tempest destroying the clouds, the son of Pandu destroyed with his arrows many cars looking like celestial vehicles, that were well-adorned, and equipped with weapons and standards, along with their drivers. Many elephants also, with the men that guided them, adorned with triumphal banners and weapons, and many horsemen with horses, and many foot-soldiers also, Arjuna despatched with his arrows to Yama's abode. Then Duryodhana singly proceeded against that mighty car-warrior who was angry and irresistible and resembled a veritable Yama, striking him with his straight shafts. Arjuna, cutting off his adversary's bow and driver and steeds and standard with seven shafts, next cut off his umbrella with one arrow. Obtaining then an opportunity, he sped at Duryodhana an excellent shaft, capable of taking the life of the person struck. Drona's son, however, cut off that shaft into seven fragments. Cutting off then the bow of Drona's son and slaying the four steeds of the latter with his arrow, the son of Pandu next cut off the formidable bow of Kripa too. Then cutting off the bow of Hridika's son, he felled the latter's standard and steeds. Then cutting off the bow of Duhshasana, he proceeded against the son of Radha. At this, Karna, leaving Satyaki quickly pierced Arjuna with three arrows and Krishna with twenty, and Partha again repeatedly. Although many were the arrows that he shot while slaying his foes in that battle, like Indra himself inspired with wrath, Karna yet felt no fatigue. Meanwhile Satyaki, coming up, pierced Karna with nine and ninety fierce arrows, and once more with a hundred. Then all the foremost heroes among the Parthas began to afflict Karna. Yudhamanyu and Shikhandi and the sons of Draupadi and the Prabhadrakas, and Uttamauja and Yuyutsu and the twins and Dhrishtadyumna, and the divisions of the Cedis and the Karushas and the Matsyas and Kaikeyas, and the mighty Chekitana, and king Yudhishthira of excellent vows, all these, accompanied by cars and steeds and elephants, and foot-soldiers of fierce prowess, encompassed Karna on all sides in that battle, and showered upon him diverse kinds of weapons, addressing him in harsh words and resolved to compass his destruction. Cutting off that shower of weapons with his sharp shafts, Karna dispersed his assailants by the power of his weapons like the wind breaking down the trees that stand on its way. Filled with wrath, Karna was seen to destroy car-warriors, and elephants with their riders, and horses with horse-men, and large bands of foot-soldiers. Slaughtered by the energy of Karna's weapons, almost the whole of that force of the Pandavas, deprived of weapons, and with limbs mangled and torn, retired from the field. Then Arjuna, smiling the while, baffled with his own weapons the weapons of Karna and covered the welkin, the Earth, and all the points of the compass with dense shower of arrows. The shafts of Arjuna fell like heavy clubs and spiked bludgeons. And some amongst them fell like Sataghnis and some fell like fierce thunderbolts. Slaughtered therewith, the Kaurava force consisting of infantry and horse and cars and elephants, shutting its eyes, uttered loud wails of woe and wandered senselessly. Many were the steeds and men and elephants that perished on that occasion. Many, again, struck with shafts and deeply afflicted fled away in fear. "'Whilst thy warriors were thus engaged in battle from desire of victory, the Sun approaching the Setting Mountain, entered it. In consequence of the darkness, O king, but especially owing to the dust, we could not notice anything favourable or unfavourable. The mighty bowmen (amongst the Kauravas), fearing a night-battle, O Bharata, then retired from the field, accompanied by all their combatants. Upon the retirement of the Kauravas, O king, at the close of the day, the Parthas, cheerful at having obtained the victory, also retired to their own encampment, jeering at their enemies by producing diverse kinds of sounds with their musical instruments, and applauding Acyuta and Arjuna. After those heroes had thus withdrawn the army, all the troops and all the kings uttered benediction upon the Pandavas. The withdrawal having been made, those sinless men, the Pandavas, became very glad, and proceeding to their tents rested there for the night. Then Rakshasas and Pishacas, and carnivorous beasts, in large numbers came to that awful field of battle resembling the sporting ground of Rudra himself.'" 31 "Dhritarashtra said, 'It seems that Arjuna slew all of you at his will. Indeed, the Destroyer himself could not escape him in battle, if Arjuna took up arms against Him. Single-handed, Partha ravished Bhadra, and single-handed, he gratified Agni. Single-handed, he subjugated the whole Earth, and made all the kings pay tribute. Single-handed, with his celestial bow he slew the Nivatakavachas. Single-handed, he contended in battle with Mahadeva who stood before him in the guise of a hunter. Single-handed, he protected the Bharatas, and single-handed, he gratified Bhava. Single-handed, were vanquished by him all the kings of the Earth endued with fierce prowess. The Kurus cannot be blamed. On the other hand, they deserve praise (for having fought with such a warrior). Tell me now what they did. Tell me also, O Suta, what Duryodhana did after that.' "Sanjaya said, 'Struck and wounded and overthrown from their vehicles and divested of armour and deprived of weapons and their beasts slain, with plaintive voices and burning with grief and vanquished by their foes, the vain Kauravas, entering their tents once more took counsel of one another. They then looked like snakes deprived of fangs and poison trod upon by others. Unto them, Karna, sighing like an angry snake, squeezing his hands, and eyeing thy son, said, "Arjuna is always careful, firm, possessed of skill, and endued with intelligence. Again, when the time comes, Vasudeva awakes him (to what should be done). Today, by that sudden shower of weapons we were deceived by him. Tomorrow, however, O lord of Earth, I will frustrate all his purposes." Thus addressed by Karna, Duryodhana said, "So be it," and then granted permission to those foremost of kings to retire. Bidden by the king, all those rulers proceeded to their respective tents. Having passed the night happily, they cheerfully went out for battle (the next day). They then beheld an invincible array formed by king Yudhishthira the just, that foremost one of Kuru race, with great care, and according to the sanction of Brihaspati and Usanas. Then that slayer of foes, Duryodhana, called to mind the heroic Karna, that counteractor of foes, that warrior with neck like that of a bull, equal to Purandara himself in battle, the Maruts in might, and Kartavirya in energy. Indeed, the heart of the king turned towards Karna. And the hearts of all the troops also turned to that hero, that Suta's son, that mighty bowman, as one's heart turns to a friend in a situation of great danger.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'What did Duryodhana next do, O Suta, when the hearts of all of you turned towards Vikarna's son Karna? Did my troops cast their eyes on Radha's son like persons afflicted with cold turning their gaze towards the Sun? Upon the recommencement of the battle after the withdrawal of the troops, how, O Sanjaya, did Vikarna's son Karna fight? How also did all the Pandavas fight with the Suta's son? The mighty-armed Karna would, single-handed, slay the Parthas with the Srinjayas. The might of Karna's arms in battle equals that of Sakra or Vishnu. His weapons are fierce, and the prowess also of that high-souled one is fierce. Relying upon Karna, king Duryodhana had set his heart on battle. Beholding Duryodhana deeply afflicted by the son of Pandu, and seeing also the sons of Pandu displaying great prowess, what did that mighty car-warrior, viz., Karna, do? Alas, the foolish Duryodhana, relying on Karna, hopeth to vanquish the Parthas with their sons and Keshava in battle! Alas, it is a matter of great grief that Karna could not, with his strength, overcome the sons of Pandu in fight! Without doubt, Destiny is supreme. Alas, the terrible end of that gambling match hath now come! Alas, these heartrending sorrows, due to Duryodhana's acts, many in number and like unto terrible darts, are now being borne by, me, O Sanjaya! O sire, Subala's son used to be then regarded as a politic person. Karna also is always exceedingly attached to king Duryodhana. Alas, when such is the case, O Sanjaya, why have I then to hear of the frequent defeats and deaths of my sons? There is no one that can resist the Pandavas in battle. They penetrate into my army like a man into the midst of helpless women. Destiny, indeed, is supreme.' "Sanjaya said, 'O king, think now of all those wrongful acts of thine like that match at dice and the others--acts that have passed away from the subjects of thought with man. One should not, however, reflect on bygone acts. One may be ruined by such reflection. That result (which thou hadst expected) is now much removed from the point of fruition, since, although possessed of knowledge, thou didst not reflect on the propriety or impropriety of thy acts then. Many a time wert thou, O king, counselled against warring with the Pandavas. Thou didst not, however, O monarch, accept those counsels, from folly. Diverse sinful acts of a grave nature were perpetrated by thee against the sons of Pandu. For those acts this awful slaughter of kings hath now come. All that, however, is now past. Do not grieve, O bull of Bharata's race. O thou of unfading glory, listen now to the details of the awful carnage that has occurred. "'When the night dawned, Karna repaired to king Duryodhana. Approaching the king, the mighty-armed hero said, "I shall, O king, engage in battle today the illustrious son of Pandu. Either I will slay that hero today, or he will slay me. In consequence of the diverse things both myself and Partha had to do, O Bharata, an encounter, O king, could not hitherto take place between myself and Arjuna! Listen now, O monarch, to these words of mine, spoken according to my wisdom. Without slaying Partha in battle I will not come back, O Bharata. Since this army of ours hath been deprived of its foremost warriors, and since I will stand in battle, Partha will advance against me, especially because I am destitute of the dart Sakra gave me. Therefore, O ruler of men, listen now to what is beneficial. The energy of my celestial weapons is equal to the energy of Arjuna's weapons. In counteracting the feats of powerful foes, in lightness of hands, in range of the arrows shot, in skill, and in hitting the mark, Savyasaci is never my equal. In physical strength, in courage, in knowledge of (weapons), in prowess, O Bharata, in aiming, Savyasaci is never my equal. My bow, called Vijaya, is the foremost of all weapons (of its kind). Desirous of doing what was agreeable (to Indra), it was made by Viswakarman (the celestial artificer) for Indra. With that bow, O king, Indra had vanquished the Daityas. At its twang the Daityas beheld the ten points to be empty. That bow, respected by all, Sakra gave to Bhrigu's son (Rama). That celestial and foremost of bows Bhrigu's son gave to me. With that bow I will contend in battle with the mighty-armed Arjuna, that foremost of victorious warriors, like Indra fighting with the assembled Daityas. That formidable bow, the gift of Rama, is superior to Gandiva. It was with that bow that the Earth was subjugated thrice seven times (by Bhrigu's son). With that bow given to me by Rama I will contend in battle with the son of Pandu. I will, O Duryodhana, gladden thee today with thy friends, by slaying in battle that hero, viz., Arjuna, that foremost of conquerors. The whole Earth with her mountains and forest and islands, without a heroic warrior (to oppose thy wish), will, O king, become thine today, over which thyself with thy sons and grandsons will reign supreme. Today there is nothing that is incapable of being achieved by me, especially when the object is to do what is agreeable to thee, even as success is incapable of being missed by an ascetic zealously devoted to virtue and having his soul under control. Arjuna will not be able to bear me in battle, even as a tree in contact with fire is incapable of bearing that element. I must, however, declare in what respect I am inferior to Arjuna. The string of his bow is celestial, and the two large quivers of his are inexhaustible. His driver is Govinda. I have none like him. His is that celestial and foremost of bows, called Gandiva, which is irrefragible in battle. I also have that excellent, celestial, and formidable bow called Vijaya. In respect of our bows, therefore, O king, I am superior to Arjuna. Listen now to those matters in which the heroic son of Pandu is superior to me. The holder of the reins (of his steeds) is he of Dasharha's race who is adored by all the worlds. His celestial car decked with gold, given unto him by Agni, is impenetrable in every part, and his steeds also, O hero, are endued with the speed of the mind. His celestial standard, bearing the blazing Ape, is exceedingly wonderful. Again, Krishna, who is Creator of the universe, protects that car. Though inferior to Arjuna in respect of these things, I still desire to fight with him. This Shalya, however, the ornament of assemblies, is equal to Saurin. If he becomes my driver, victory will certainly be thine. Let Shalya, therefore, who is incapable of being resisted by foes be the driver of my car. Let a large number of carts bear my long shafts and those that are winged with vulturine feathers. Let a number of foremost cars, O monarch, with excellent steeds yoked unto them, always follow me, O bull of Bharata's race. By these arrangements I will, as regards the qualities mentioned, be superior to Arjuna. Shalya is superior to Krishna, and I am superior to Arjuna. As that slayer of foes, viz., he of Dasharha's race, is acquainted with horselore, even so is that mighty car-warrior, viz., Shalya acquainted with horselore. There is none equal to the chief of the Madras in might of arms. As there is none equal to myself in weapons, so there is none equal to Shalya in knowledge of steeds. So circumstanced, I will become superior to Partha. Against my car, the very gods with Vasava at their head will not dare advance. All these being attended to, when I take my stand on my car, I will become superior to Arjuna in the attributes of warrior and will then, O best of the Kurus, vanquish Phalguna. I desire, O monarch, all this to be done by thee, O scorcher of foes. Let these wishes of mine be accomplished. Let no time be suffered to elapse. If all this be accomplished, the most effectual aid will be rendered to me on every desirable point. Thou wilt then see, O Bharata, what I will achieve in battle. I will by every means vanquish the sons of Pandu in battle when they will approach me. The very gods and Asuras are not able to advance against me in battle. What need be said then of the sons of Pandu that are of human origin?"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed by that ornament of battle, viz., Karna, thy son, worshipping the son of Radha, answered him, with a glad heart, saying, "Accomplish that, O Karna, which thou thinkest. Equipped with goodly quivers and steeds, such cars shall follow thee in battle. Let as many cars as thou wishest bear thy long shafts and arrows equipped with vulturine feathers. Ourselves, as also all the kings, O Karna will follow thee in battle."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Having said these words, thy royal son, endued with great prowess, approached the ruler of the Madras and addressed him in the following words.'" 32 "Sanjaya said, 'Thy son then, O monarch, humbly approaching that mighty car-warrior, viz., the ruler of the Madras, addressed him, from affection, in these words, "O thou of true vows, O thou of great good fortune, O enhancer of the sorrows of foes, O ruler of the Madras, O hero in battle, O thou that inspirest hostile troops with fear, thou hast heard, O foremost of speakers, how, for the sake of Karna who spoke unto me, I myself am desirous of soliciting thee among all these lions of kings. O thou of incomparable prowess, O king of the Madras, for the destruction of the foe, I solicit thee today, with humility and bow of the head. Therefore, for the destruction of Partha and for my good, it behoveth thee, O foremost of car-warriors, to accept, from love, the office of charioteer. With thee for his driver, the son of Radha will subjugate my foes. There is none else for holding the reins of Karna's steeds, except thee, O thou of great good fortune, thou that art the equal of Vasudeva in battle. Protect Karna then by every means like Brahma protecting Maheswara. Even as he of Vrishni's race protects by every means the son of Pandu in all dangers, do thou, O chief of the Madras, protect the son of Radha today. Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa, and thyself and the valiant ruler of the Bhojas, and Shakuni the son of Subala, and Drona's son and myself, constituted the chief strength of our army. Even thus, O lord of Earth, we had divided amongst ourselves the hostile army into portions for the share of each. The share that had been allotted to Bhishma is now no more as also that which had been allotted to the high-souled Drona. Going even beyond their allotted shares, those two slew my foes. Those two tigers among men, however, were old, and both of them have been slain deceitfully. Having achieved the most difficult feats, both of them, O sinless one, have departed hence to heaven. Similarly, many other tigers among men, of our army, slain by foes in battle, have ascended to heaven, casting off their lives and having made great exertions to the best of their powers. This my host, therefore, O king, the greater portion of which has been slaughtered, has been reduced to this state by the Parthas who were at first fewer than us. What should be done for the present? Do that now, O lord of Earth, by which the mighty and the high-souled sons of Kunti, of prowess incapable of being baffled, may be prevented from exterminating the remnant of my host. O lord, the Pandavas have in battle slain the bravest warriors of this my force. The mighty-armed Karna alone is devoted to our good, as also thyself, O tiger among men, that art the foremost of car-warriors in the whole world. O Shalya, Karna wishes to contend in battle today with Arjuna. On him, O ruler of the Madras, my hopes of victory are great. There is none else in the world (save thee) that can make so good a holder of the reins for Karna. As Krishna is the foremost of all holders of reins for Partha in battle, even so, O king, be thou the foremost of all holders of reins for Karna's car. Accompanied and protected, O sire, by him in battle, the feats that Partha achieve are all before thee. Formerly, Arjuna had never slain his foes in battle in such a way. Now however, his prowess has become great, united as he is with Krishna. Day after day, O ruler of the Madras, this vast Dhritarashtra force is seen to be routed by Partha because he is united with Krishna. A portion remains of the share allotted to Karna and thyself, O thou of great splendour. Bear that share with Karna, and destroy it unitedly in battle. Even as Surya, uniting with Aruna, destroys the darkness, do thou, uniting with Karna, slay Partha in battle. Let the mighty car-warriors (of the enemy), fly away, beholding in battle those two warriors endued with the effulgence of the morning sun, viz., Karna and Shalya, resembling two Suns risen above the horizon. Even as darkness is destroyed, O sire, at the sight of Surya and Aruna, even so let the Kaunteyas (Pandavas) with the Pancalas and the Srinjayas perish beholding thee and Karna. Karna is the foremost of car-warriors, and thou art the foremost of drivers. In the clash of battle, again there is none equal to thee. As he of Vrishni's race protects the son of Pandu under all circumstances, even so let thyself protect Vikarna's son Karna in battle. With thee as his driver, Karna will become invincible, O king, in battle even with the gods having Sakra at their head! What then need be said about the Pandavas? Do not doubt my words.'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Hearing these words of Duryodhana, Shalya, became filled with rage. Contracting his brow into three lines, and waving his arms repeatedly, and rolling his large eyes red in wrath, that warrior of massive arms proud of his lineage and wealth and knowledge and strength, said these words: "'Shalya said "Thou insultest me, O son of Gandhari, or without doubt suspectest me, since thou solicitest me, without hesitation, saying, 'Act thou as a driver.' Regarding Karna to be superior to ourselves, thou applaudest him thus. I, however, do not regard the son of Radha as my equal in battle. Assign to me a much greater share, O lord of Earth. Destroying that in battle, I will return to the place I come from. Or, if thou wishest, I will, O delighter of the Kurus, contend, single-handed, with the enemy. While engaged in consuming the foe, behold thou my prowess today. Brooding upon an insult, O thou of Kuru's race, a person like ourselves never engageth in my task. Do not have thy doubts about me. Never shouldst thou humiliate me in battle. Behold these two massive arms of mine, strong as the thunder. Behold also my excellent bow, and these shafts that resemble snakes of virulent poison. Behold my car, unto which are yoked excellent steeds endued with the speed of the wind. Behold also, O son of Gandhari, my mace decked with gold and twined with hempen chords. Filled with wrath, I can split the very Earth, scatter the mountains, and dry up the oceans, with my own energy, O king. Knowing me, O monarch, to be so capable, of afflicting the foe, why dost thou appoint me to the office of driver in battle for such a low-born person as Adhiratha's son? It behoveth thee not, O king of kings, to set me to such mean tasks! Being so superior, I cannot make up my mind to obey the commands of a sinful person. He that causeth a superior person arrived of his own will and obedient from love, to yield to a sinful wight, certainly incurreth the sin of confusing the superior with the inferior. Brahman created the Brahmanas from his mouth, and the Kshatriyas from his arms. He created the Vaishyas from his thighs and the Shudras from his feet. In consequence of the intermixture of those four orders, O Bharata, from those four have sprung particular classes, viz., those born of men of superior classes wedding women of classes inferior to themselves, and vice versa. The Kshatriyas have been described to be protectors (of the other classes) acquirers of wealth and givers of the same. The Brahmanas have been established on the Earth for the sake of favouring its people by assisting at sacrifices, by teaching and acceptance of pure gifts. Agriculture and tending of cattle and gift are the occupations of the Vaishyas according to the scriptures. Shudras have been ordained to be the servants of the Brahmanas, the Kshatriyas, and the Vaishyas. Similarly, the Sutas are the servants of Kshatriyas, and not latter the servants of the former. Listen to these my words, O sinless one. As regards myself, I am one whose coronal locks have undergone the sacred bath. I am born in a race of royal sages. I am reckoned a great car-warrior. I deserve the worship and the praises that bards and eulogists render and sing. Being all this, O slayer of hostile troops, I cannot go to the extent of acting as the driver of the Suta's son in battle. I will never fight, undergoing an act of humiliation. I ask thy permission, O son of Gandhari, for returning home." "Sanjaya continued, 'Having said these words that tiger among men and ornament of assemblies, viz., Shalya, filled with rage stood up quickly and endeavoured to get away from that concourse of kings. Thy son, however, from affection and great regard, held the king, and addressed him in these sweet and conciliatory words, that were capable of accomplishing every object, "Without doubt, O Shalya, it is even so as thou hast said. But I have a certain purpose in view. Listen to it, O ruler of men, Karna is not superior to thee, nor do I suspect thee, O king. The royal chief of the Madras will never do that which is false. Those foremost of men that were thy ancestors always told the truth. I think it is for this that thou art called Artayani (the descendant of those that had truth for their refuge). And since, O giver of honours, thou art like a barbed arrow to thy foes, therefore art thou called by the name of Shalya on earth. O thou that makest large presents (to Brahmanas) at sacrifices, do thou accomplish all that which, O virtuous one, thou hadst previously said thou wouldst accomplish. Neither the son of Radha nor myself am superior to thee in valour that I would select thee as the driver of those foremost of steeds (that are yoked unto Karna's car). As, however, O sire, Karna is superior to Dhananjaya in regard to many qualities, even so doth the world regard thee to be superior to Vasudeva. Karna is certainly superior to Partha in the matter of weapons, O bull among men. Thou too art superior to Krishna in knowledge of steeds and might. Without doubt O ruler of the Madras, thy knowledge of horse is double that which the high-souled Vasudeva hath." "'Shalya said, "Since, O son of Gandhari, thou describest me, O thou of Kuru's race, in the midst of all these troops, to be superior to Devaki's son, I am gratified with thee. I will become the driver of Radha's son of great fame while he will be engaged in battle with the foremost one of Pandu's sons, as thou solicitest me. Let this, however, O hero, be my understanding with Vikartana's son that I will in his presence utter whatever speeches I desire."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'O king, thy son, with Karna then, O Bharata, answered the prince of the Madras, O best of Bharata's race, saying, "So be it."'" 33 "'Duryodhana said, "Listen, once more, O ruler of the Madras, to what I will say unto thee, about what happened, O lord, in the battle between the gods and the Asuras in days of yore. The great rishi Markandeya narrated it to my sire. I will now recite it without leaving out anything, O best of royal sages. Listen to that account confidingly and without mistrusting it at all. Between the gods and the Asuras, each desirous of vanquishing the other, there happened a great battle, O king, which had Taraka for its evil (root). It hath been heard by us that the Daityas were defeated by the gods. Upon the defeat of the Daityas, the three sons of Taraka, named Tarakaksha, Kamalaksha and Vidyunmalin, O king, practising the austerest penances, lived in the observance of high vows. By those penances they emaciated their bodies, O scorcher of foes. In consequence of their self-restraint, their penances, their vows and contemplation, the boongiving Grandsire became gratified with them and gave them boons. Unitedly they solicited the Grandsire of all the worlds, O king, for the boon of immunity from death at the hands of all Creatures of all times. The divine Lord and Master of all the worlds said unto them, 'There is nothing like immunity from death at the hands of all creatures. Therefore, ye Asuras, abstain from such a prayer. Solicit some other boon that may seem desirable to you.' When all of them, O king, having settled it amongst themselves after long and repeated conferences, bowed to the great Master of all the worlds and said these words, 'O god, O Grandsire, give us this boon. Residing in three cities, we will rove over this Earth, with thy grace ever before us. After a 1,000 years then, we will come together, and our three cities also, O sinless one, will become united into one. That foremost one amongst the gods who will, with one shaft, pierce those three cities united into one, will, O lord, be the cause of our destruction.' Saying unto them, 'Let it be so,' that god ascended to heaven. Those Asuras then, filled with joy at having obtained those boons and having settled it among themselves about the construction of the three cities, selected for the purpose the great Asura Maya, the celestial artificer, knowing no fatigue or decay, and worshipped by all the Daityas and Danavas. Then Maya, of great intelligence, by the aid of his own ascetic merit, constructed three cities, one of which was of gold, another of silver, and the third of black iron. The golden city was set in heaven, the silver city in the welkin, and the iron city was set on the Earth, all in such a way as to revolve in a circle, O lord of Earth. Each of those cities measured a hundred yojanas in breadth and a hundred in length. And they consisted of houses and mansions and lofty walls and porches. And though teeming with lordly palaces close to each other, yet the streets were wide and spacious. And they were adorned with diverse mansions and gate-ways. Each of those cities, again, O monarch, had a separate king. The beautiful city of gold belonged to the illustrious Tarakaksha: the silver city to Kamalaksha, and the iron one to Vidyunmalin. Those three Daitya kings, soon assailing the three worlds with their energy, continued to dwell and reign, and began to say, 'Who is he called the Creator?' Unto those foremost of Danavas having no heroes equal to them, came from every side millions upon millions, of proud and flesh-eating Danavas who had before been defeated by the celestials, and who now settled in the three cities, desirous of great prosperity. Unto all of them thus united, Maya became the supplier of every thing they wanted. Relying upon him, all of them resided there, in perfect fearlessness. Whoever amongst those residing in the triple city wished for any object in his heart had his wish fulfilled by Maya aided by the latter's powers of illusion. Tarakaksha had a heroic and mighty son named Hari. He underwent the austerest of penances, upon which the Grandsire became gratified with him. When the god was gratified, Hari solicited a boon of him, saying, 'Let a lake start into existence in our city, such that persons, slain by means of weapons, may, when thrown into it, come out with life, and with redoubled strength.' Obtaining this boon, the heroic Hari, son of Tarakaksha, created a lake, O lord, in his city, that was capable of reviving the dead. In whatever form and whatever guise a Daitya might have been slain, if thrown into that lake, he was restored to life, in the self-same form and guise. Obtaining alive the slain among them, the Daityas began to afflict the three worlds. Crowned with success by means of austere penances, those enhancers of the fears of the gods sustained, O king, no diminution in battle. Stupefied then by covetousness and folly, and deprived of their senses, all of them began to shamelessly exterminate the cities and towns established all over the universe. Filled with pride at the boons they had received, and driving before them, at all times and from all places, the gods with their attendants, they roamed at will over celestial forests and other realms dear to the denizens of heaven and the delightful and sacred asylums of Rishis. And the wicked Danavas ceased to show any respect for anybody. While the worlds were thus afflicted, Sakra, surrounded by the Maruts, battled against the three cities by hurling his thunder upon them from every side. When, however, Purandra failed to pierce those cities made impenetrable, O king, by the Creator with his boons, the chief of celestials, filled with fear, and leaving those cities, repaired with those very gods to that chastiser of foes, viz., the Grandsire, for representing unto him the oppressions committed by the Asuras. Representing everything and bowing with their heads unto him, they asked the divine Grandsire the means by which the triple city could be destroyed. The illustrious Deity, hearing the words of Indra, told the gods, 'He that is an offender against you offends against me also. The Asuras are all of wicked souls and always hate the gods. They that give pain to you always offend against me. I am impartial to all creatures. There is no doubt in this. For all that, however, they that are unrighteous should be slain. This is my fixed vow. Those three forts are to be pierced with one shaft. By no other means can their destruction be effected. None else, save Sthanu, is competent to pierce them with one shaft. Ye Adityas, select Sthanu, otherwise called Ishana and Jishnu, who is never fatigued with work, as your warrior. It is he that will destroy those Asuras.' Hearing these words of his, the gods with Sakra at their head, making Brahman take their lead, sought the protection of the Deity having the bull for his mark. Those righteous ones accompanied by Rishis devoted to the severest penances and uttering the eternal words of the Vedas, sought Bhava with their whole soul. And they praised, O king, in the high words of the Vedas, that dispeller of fears in all situations of fear that Universal Soul, that Supreme Soul, that One by whom All this is pervaded with his Soul. Then the gods who, by special penances, had learnt to still all the functions of his Soul and to withdraw Soul from Matter,--they who had their soul always under control--beheld him, called Ishana,--that lord of Uma, that mass of energy, that is, who hath no equal in the universe, that source (of everything), that sinless Self. Though that Deity is one they had imagined him to be of various forms. Beholding in that high-souled one those diverse forms that each had individually conceived in own heart, all of them became filled with wonder. Beholding that Unborn one, that Lord of the universe, to be the embodiment of all creatures, the gods and the regenerate Rishis, all touched the Earth with their heads. Saluting them with the word 'Welcome' and raising them from their bent attitudes, the illustrious Sankara addressed them smilingly, saying, 'Tell us the object of your visit.' Commanded by the Three-eyed god, their hearts became easy. They then said these words unto him, 'Our repeated salutations to thee, O Lord. Salutations to thee that art the source of all the gods, to thee that art armed with the bow, to thee that art full of wrath. Salutations to thee that hadst destroyed the sacrifice of that lord of creatures (viz., Daksha), to thee that art adored by all the lords of creatures. Salutations to thee that art always praised, to thee that deservest to be praised, to thee that art Death's self. Salutations to thee that art red, to thee that art fierce, to thee that art blue-throated, to thee that art armed with the trident, to thee that art incapable of being baffled, to thee that hast eyes as beautiful as those of the gazelle, to thee that fightest with the foremost of weapons, to thee that deservest all praise, to thee that art pure, to thee that art destruction's self, to thee that art the destroyer; to thee that art irresistible, to thee that art Brahman, to thee that leadest the life of a brahmacari; to thee that art Ishana; to thee that art immeasurable, to thee that art the great controller, to thee that art robed in tatters; to thee that art ever engaged in penances, to thee that art tawny, to thee that art observant of vows, to thee that art robed in animal skins; to thee that art the sire of Kumara, to thee that art three-eyed, to thee that art armed with the foremost of weapons, to thee that destroyest the afflictions of all that seek thy shelter, to thee that destroyest all haters of Brahmanas, to thee that art the lord of all trees, the lord of all men, the lord of all kine, and ever the lord of sacrifices. Salutations to thee that art always at the head of troops, to thee that art three-eyed, to thee that art endued with fierce energy. We devote ourselves to thee in thought, word and deed. Be gracious unto us.' Gratified with these adorations, the holy one, saluting them with the word 'Welcome' said unto them, 'Let your fears be dispelled. Say, what we are to do for you?'"'" 34 "'Duryodhana said, "After the fears of those throngs of the pitris, the gods, and the Rishis had thus been dispelled by that high-souled Deity, Brahman then offered his adorations, unto Sankara, and said these words for the benefit of the universe, 'Through thy favour, O Lord of all, the Lordship of all creatures is mine. Occupying that rank, I have given a great boon to the Danavas. It behoveth none else, save thee, O Lord of the Past and the Future, to destroy those wicked wights that show no regard for any one. Thou O god, art the only person competent to slay the foes of these denizens of heaven that have sought thy protection and that solicit thee. O lord of all the gods, show favour to these. Slay the Danavas, O wielder of the trident. O giver of honours, let the universe, through thy grace, obtain happiness. O Lord of all the worlds, thou art the one whose shelter should be sought. We all seek thy shelter.' "'"Sthanu said, 'All your foes should be slain. But, I shall not however, slay them single-handed. The enemies of the gods are possessed of might. Therefore, all of you, united together, consume those enemies of yours in battle, with half my might. Union is great strength.' "'"The gods said, 'Theirs (Danavas') is twice the energy and might of ourselves, we think, for we have already seen their energy and might.' "'"The holy one said, 'Those sinful wights that have offended against ye should be slain. With half of my energy and might, slay all those enemies of yours.' "'"The gods said, 'We will not be able, O Maheswara, to bear half of thy energy. With, on the other hand, half of our united might, do thou slay those foes.' "'"The holy one said, 'If, indeed, ye have not the ability to bear half of my might, then, endued with half of your united energy, I will slay them.' "'Duryodhana continued, "The celestials then, addressing the god of gods, said 'So be it' O best of kings. Taking half of their energies from all of them, he became superior in might. Indeed, in might that god became superior to all in the universe. From that time Sankara came to be called Mahadeva. And Mahadeva then said, 'Armed with bow and shaft, I will, from my car, slay in battle those foes of yours, ye denizens of heaven. Therefore, ye gods, see now to my car and bow and shaft so that I may, this very day, throw the Asuras down on the Earth.' "'"The gods said, 'Gathering all forms that may be found in the three worlds and taking portions of each, we will each, O Lord of the gods, construct a car of great energy for thee. It will be a large car, the handiwork of Viswakarman, designed with intelligence.' Saying this, those tigers among the gods began the construction of that car. And they made Vishnu and Soma and Hutasana the arrow for Sankara's use. Agni became the staff, and Soma became the head, and Vishnu the point, O king, of that foremost of arrows. The goddess Earth, with her large cities and towns, her mountains and forests and islands, that home of diverse creatures, was made the car. The Mandara mountain was made its axle; and the great river Ganga was made its Jangha; and the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary became the ornaments of the car. The constellations became its shaft; the Krita age became its yoke; and that best of Snakes, viz., Vasuki, became the Kuvara of that car. Himavat and Vindhya mountains became its Apaskara and Adhishthana; and the Udaya and the Asta mountains were made the wheels of that car by those foremost ones among the gods. They made the excellent Ocean, that abode of the Danavas its other axle. The seven Rishis became the protectors of the wheels of that car. Ganga and Sarasvati and Sindhu and the Sky became its Dhura; all the other rivers and all the waters became the chords for binding the several limbs of that car. Day and Night and the other divisions of time such as Kalas and Kasthas, and the Seasons became its Amukarsha. The blazing planets and the stars became its wooden fence; Religion, Profit, and Pleasure, united together, became its Trivenu. The herbs and the creepers, decked with flowers and fruits, became its bells. Making the Sun and the Moon equal, these were made the (other two) wheels of that foremost of cars. Day and Night were made its auspicious wings on the right and left. The ten foremost of snakes having Dhritarashtra for their first, all exceedingly strong, formed the (other) shaft of that car. The Sky was made its (other) yoke, and the clouds called Samvartaka and Valahaka were the leathern strings of the yoke. The two Twilights and Dhritri and Medha and Sthiti and Sannati, and the firmament bespangled with planets and stars, were made the skins for covering that car. Those Regents of the world, viz., the Lords of the gods, of the waters, of the dead, and of treasures, were made the steeds of that car. Kalaprishtha, and Nahusha, and Karkotaka, and Dhananjaya and the other snakes became the chords for binding the manes of the steeds. The cardinal and the subsidiary directions became the reins of the steeds of that car. The Vedic sound Vashat became the goad, and Gayatri became the string attached to that goad. The four auspicious days were made the traces of the steeds, and the pitris presiding over them were made the hooks and pins. Action and truth and ascetic penances and profit were made the chords of that car. The Mind became the ground upon which that car stood, and Speech the tracks upon which it was to proceed. Beautiful banners of various hues waved in the air. With lightning and Indra's bow attached to it, that blazing car gave fierce light. That space of time which, on a former occasion, had, in the Sacrifice of the high-souled Ishana, been fixed as a Year, became the bow, and the goddess Savitri became the loud-sounding bow-string. A celestial coat of mail was made, decked with costly gems, and impenetrable and effulgent, sprung from the wheel of Time. That golden mountain, viz., the beautiful Meru, became the flagstaff, and the clouds decked with flashes of lightning became its banners. Thus equipped, that car shone brilliantly like a blazing fire in the midst of the priests officiating at a sacrifice. Beholding that car properly equipped, the gods became filled with wonder. Seeing the energies of the entire universe united together in one place, O sire, the gods wondered, and at last represented unto that illustrious Deity that the car was ready. After, O monarch, that best of cars had thus been constructed by the gods, O tiger among men, for grinding their foes, Sankara placed upon it his own celestial weapons. Making the sky its flagstaff, he placed upon it his bovine bull. The Brahmana's rod, the rod of Death, Rudra's rod, and Fever became the protectors of the sides of that car and stood with faces turned towards all sides. Atharvan and Angirasa became the protectors of the car-wheels of that illustrious warrior. The Rigveda, the Samaveda, and the Puranas stood in advance of that car. The histories and the Yajurveda became the protectors of the rear. All sacred Speeches and all the Sciences stood around it, and all hymns, O monarch, and the Vedic sound of Vashat also. And the syllable Om, O king, standing in the van of that car, made it exceedingly beautiful. Having made the Year adorned with the six seasons his bow, he made his own shadow the irrefragable string of that bow in that battle. The illustrious Rudra is Death's self. The Year became his bow; Kala Ratri the Death-night therefore, which is Rudra's shadow, became the indestructible string of that bow. Vishnu and Agni and Soma became (as already said) the arrow. The universe is said to consist of Agni and Soma. The universe is similarly said to consist of Vishnu. Vishnu is, again, the Soul of the holy Bhava of immeasurable energy. For this the touch of that bow-string became unbearable to the Asuras. And the lord Sankara cast on that arrow his own irresistible and fierce wrath, the unbearable fire of anger, viz., that which was born of wrath of Bhrigu and Angirasa. Then He called Nila Rohita (Blue and Red or smoke)--that terrible deity robed in skins,--looking like 10,000 Suns, and shrouded by the fire of superabundant Energy, blazed up with splendour. That discomfiter of even him that is difficult of being discomfited, that victor, that slayer of all haters of Brahma, called also Hara, that rescuer of the righteous and destroyer of the unrighteous, viz., the illustrious Sthanu, accompanied by many beings of terrible might and terrible forms that were endued with the speed of the mind and capable of agitating and crushing all foes, as if with all the fourteen faculties of the soul awake about him, looked exceedingly resplendent. Having his limbs for their refuge, this entire universe of mobile and immobile creatures that were present there, O king, looked beautiful, presenting a highly wonderful appearance. Beholding that car, duly equipped, he cased himself in mail and armed himself with the bow, and took up that celestial shaft born of Soma and Vishnu and Agni. The gods, O king, then commanded that foremost of celestials, viz., Wind, to breathe after that puissant Deity all the fragrance that he carries. Then Mahadeva, terrifying the very gods, and making the very Earth tremble, ascended that car resolutely. Then the great Rishis, the Gandharvas, those throngs of gods and those diverse tribes of Apsaras began to praise that Lord of the gods while he was about to ascend that car. Adored by the regenerate Rishis, and praised by the eulogists and diverse tribes of dancing Apsaras well-versed in the art of dancing, that boon-giving lord, armed with scimitar and arrow and bow, looked very beautiful. Smiling, he then asked the gods, 'Who will become my driver?' The gods answered him, saying, 'He whom thou wilt appoint, will, O Lord of the gods, without doubt, become thy driver!' Unto them the god replied, 'Reflecting yourselves, without delay make him my driver who is superior to me!' Hearing these words uttered by that high-souled Deity, the gods repaired unto the Grandsire and inclining him to grace, said these words, 'We have accomplished everything, O holy one, that thou hadst ordered us to do in the matter of afflicting the foes of celestials. The Deity having the bull for his mark has been gratified with us. A car hath been constructed by us, equipped with many wonderful weapons. We do not, however, know who is to become the driver of that foremost of cars. Therefore, let some foremost one among the gods be appointed as the driver. O holy one, it behoveth thee to make true those words that thou, O lord, hadst then said to us. Before this, O god, thou hadst even said to us that thou wouldst do us good. It behoveth thee to accomplish that promise. That irresistible and best of cars, that router of our foes, hath been constructed out of the component parts of the celestials. The Deity armed with Pinaka hath been made the warrior who is to stand on it. Striking the Danavas with fear, he is prepared for battle. The four Vedas have become the four foremost of steeds. With her mountains, the Earth has become the car of that high-souled one. The stars have become the adornments of that vehicle. (As already said) Hara is the warrior. We do not, however, see who is to become the driver. A driver should be sought for that car who is superior to all these. Equal to thee in importance is that car, O god, and Hara is the warrior. Armour, and weapons, and bow, these we have got already, O Grandsire. Except thee, we do not behold any person that can make its driver. Thou art endued with every accomplishment. Thou, O lord, art superior to all the gods. Mounting upon that car with speed, hold the reins of those foremost of steeds, for the victory of the celestials and the destruction of their foes.' It has been heard by us that bowing with their heads unto the Grandsire that Lord of the three worlds, the gods sought to gratify him for inducing him to accept the drivership. "'"The Grandsire said, 'There is nothing of untruth in all this that ye have said, ye denizens of heaven. I will hold the reins of the steeds for Kapaddin while he will be engaged in fight.' Then that illustrious god, that Creator of the worlds, the Grandsire, was appointed by the gods as the driver of the high-souled Ishana. And when he was about to ascend quickly upon that car worshipped by all, those steeds, endued with the speed of the wind, bowed themselves with their heads to the Earth. Having ascended the car the illustrious Deity, viz., the Grandsire resplendent with his own energy, took the reins and the goad. Then the illustrious god, raising those steeds addressed that foremost one among the gods, viz., Sthanu, saying, 'Ascend.' Then, taking that arrow composed of Vishnu and Soma and Agni, Sthanu ascended the car, causing the foe to tremble by means of his bow. The great Rishis, the Gandharvas, the throngs of gods, and the diverse tribes of Apsaras, then praised that Lord of the gods after he had ascended the car. Resplendent with beauty, the boon-giving Lord, armed with scimitar, shaft, and bow, stayed on the car causing the three worlds to blaze forth with his own energy. The great Deity once more said unto the gods headed by Indra, 'Ye should never grieve, doubting my ability to destroy the Asura. Know that the Asuras have already been slain by means of this arrow'. The gods then answered, saying, 'It is true! The Asuras have already been slain.' Indeed, the gods thinking that the words which the divine Lord had said could not be untrue, became exceedingly gratified. Then that Lord of the gods proceeded surrounded by all the gods, upon that large car, O king, which had nothing to compare with it. And the illustrious Deity was adored, all the while by the attendants that always wait upon him, and by others that subsisted on meat, that were invincible in battle, and that danced in joy on the present occasion, running wildly on all sides and shouting at one another. Rishis also, of great good fortune, possessed of ascetic merit and endued with high qualities, as also the gods, wished for Mahadeva's success. When that boon-giving Lord, that dispeller of the fears of the three worlds, thus proceeded, the entire universe, all the gods, O best of men, became exceedingly gratified. And the Rishis there adored the Lord of the gods with diverse hymns, and enhancing his energy, O king, took up their station there. And millions upon millions of Gandharvas played upon diverse kinds of musical instruments at the hour of his setting out. When the boon-giving Brahman, having ascended the car, set out for the Asuras, the Lord of the Universe, smiling the while, said, 'Excellent, Excellent! Proceed, O god, to the spot where the Daityas are. Urge the steeds wakefully. Behold today the might of arms while I slay the foe in battle.' Thus addressed, Brahman urged those steeds endued with the fleetness of the wind or thought towards that spot where the triple city, O king, stood, protected by the Daityas and the Danavas. With those steeds worshipped by all the worlds, and which coursed with such speed that they seemed to devour the skies, the illustrious god quickly proceeded for the victory of the denizens of heaven. Indeed, when Bhava, riding on the car, set out towards the triple city, his bull uttered tremendous roars, filling all the points of the compass. Hearing that loud and terrible roar of the bull, many of the descendants and followers of Taraka, those enemies of the gods, breathed their last. Others amongst them stood facing the foe for battle. Then Sthanu, O king, armed with trident became deprived of his senses in wrath. All creatures became frightened, and the three worlds began to tremble. Frightful portents appeared when he was on the point of aiming that shaft. In consequence, however, of the pressure caused by the weight of Soma, Agni, and Vishnu that were in that shaft, as also of the pressure caused by the weight of Brahman and Rudra and the latter's bow, that car seemed to sink. Then Narayana, issuing out of the point of that shaft, assumed the form of a bull and raised that large car. During the time the car had sunk and the foe had began to roar, the illustrious Deity, endued with great might began, from rage, to utter loud shouts, standing, O giver of honours, on the head of his bull and the back of his steeds. At that time the illustrious Rudra was employed in eyeing the Danava city. While in that posture, O best of men, Rudra cut off the teats of the horses and clove the hoofs of the bull. Blessed be thou, from the date the hoofs of all animals of the bovine species came to be cloven. And from that time, O king, horses, afflicted by the mighty Rudra of wonderful deeds, came to be without teats. Then Sarva, having stringed his bow and aimed that shaft with which he had united the Pasupata weapon, waited thinking of the triple city. And O king, as Rudra thus stood, holding his bow, the three cities during that time became united. When the three cities, losing their separate characters became united, tumultuous became the joy of the high-souled gods. Then all the gods, the Siddhas, and the great Rishis, uttered the word Jaya, adoring Maheshwara. The triple city then appeared immediately before that god of unbearable energy, that Deity of fierce and indescribable form, that warrior who was desirous of slaying the Asuras. The illustrious deity, that Lord of the universe, then drawing that celestial bow, sped that shaft which represented the might of the whole universe, at the triple city. Upon that foremost of shafts, O thou of great good fortune, being shot, loud wails of woe were heard from those cities as they began to fall down towards the Earth. Burning those Asuras, he threw them down into the Western ocean. Thus was the triple city burnt and thus were the Danavas exterminated by Maheswara in wrath, from desire of doing good to the three worlds. The fire born of his own wrath, the three-eyed god quenched, saying, 'Do not reduce the three worlds to ashes.' After this, the gods, the Rishis, and the three worlds became all restored to their natural dispositions, and gratified Sthanu of unrivalled energy with words of high import. Receiving then the permission of the great god, the gods with the Creator at their head went away to the places they came from, their object being accomplished after such effort. Thus that illustrious Deity, that Creator of the worlds, that Lord of both the Gods and the Asuras, viz., Maheswara, did that which was for the good of all the worlds. As the illustrious Brahman, the Creator of the worlds, the Grandsire, the Supreme Deity of unfading glory, acted as the driver of Rudra, so do thou restrain the steeds of the high-souled son of Radha like Grandsire restraining those of Rudra. There is not the slightest doubt, O tiger among kings, that thou art superior to Krishna, to Karna, and to Phalguna. In battle, Karna is like Rudra, and thou art like Brahman in policy. United, ye two, therefore, are competent to vanquish my foes that are even like the Asuras. Let, O Shalya, that be done speedily today by which this Karna, grinding the Pandava troops, may be able to slay Kunti's son owning white steeds and having Krishna for the driver of his car. Upon thee depend Karna, ourselves, our kingdom, and (our) victory in battle. Hold the reins, therefore, of the excellent steeds (of Karna). There is another story which I will narrate. Listen once more to it. A virtuous Brahmana had recited it in the presence of my father. Hearing these delightful words fraught with the reasons and purposes of acts, do, O Shalya, what thou mayst settle, without entertaining any scruples. In the race of the Bhrigus was Jamadagni of severe ascetic penances. He had a son endued with energy and every virtue, who became celebrated by the name of Rama. Practising the austerest penances, of cheerful soul, bound to observances and vows, and keeping his senses under control, he gratified the god Bhava for obtaining weapons. In consequence of his devotion and tranquillity of heart, Mahadeva became gratified with him. Sankara, understanding the desire cherished in his heart, showed himself unto Rama. And Mahadeva said, 'O Rama, I am gratified with thee. Blessed be thou, thy desire is known to me. Make thy soul pure. Thou wilt then have all that thou desirest. I will give thee all weapons when thou wilt become pure. Those weapons, O son, of Bhrigu, burn a person that is incompetent and that is not deserving of them.' Thus addressed by that god of gods, that deity bearing the trident, the son of Jamadagni, bending his head unto that puissant high-souled one, said, 'O god of gods, it behoveth thee to give those weapons unto me that am always devoted to thy service, when, indeed thou wilt regard me fit for holding them.'"' "'Duryodhana continued. "With penances then, and restraining his senses, and observances of vows, and worship and offerings and with sacrifices and Homa performed with mantras, Rama adored Sarva for many long years. At last Mahadeva, pleased with the high-souled son of Bhrigu's race, described him, in the presence of his divine spouse, as possessed of many virtues: 'This Rama, of firm vows is ever devoted to me.' Gratified with him, the Lord Sankara thus repeatedly proclaimed his virtues in the presence of gods and the Rishis, O slayer of foes. Meanwhile, the Daityas became very mighty. Blinded by pride and folly, they afflicted the denizens of heaven. The gods then, uniting together, and firmly resolved to slay them, strove earnestly for the destruction of those foes. They, however, failed to vanquish them. The gods then, repairing to Maheswara, the Lord of Uma, began to gratify him with devotion, saying, 'Slay our foes.' That god, having promised the destruction of their foes unto the celestials, summoned Rama the descendant of Bhrigu. And Sankara addressed Rama, saying, 'O descendant of Bhrigu, slay all the assembled foes of the gods, from desire of doing good unto all the worlds as also for my satisfaction.' Thus addressed, Rama replied unto that boon-giving Lord of Three-eyes, saying, 'What strength have I, O chief of the gods destitute as I am of weapons, to slay in battle the assembled Danavas that are accomplished in weapons and invincible in fight?' Maheswara said, 'Go thou at my command. Thou shalt slay those foes. Having vanquished all those enemies, thou shalt acquire numerous merits.' Hearing these words and accepting them all, Rama, causing propitiatory rites to be performed for his success, proceeded against the Danavas. Addressing those enemies of the gods that were endued with might and possessed with folly and pride, he said, 'Ye Daityas that are fierce in battle, give me battle. I have been sent by the God of gods to vanquish you.' Thus addressed by the descendant of Bhrigu, the Daityas began to fight. The delighter of the Bhargavas, however, slaying the Daityas in battle, with strokes whose touch resembled that of Indra's thunder, came back to Mahadeva. Jamadagni's son, that foremost of Brahmanas returned with many wounds on his person inflicted by the Danavas. Touched, however by Sthanu, his wounds were immediately healed. Gratified also with that feat of his, the illustrious god gave diverse kinds of boons unto the high-souled son of Bhrigu. With satisfaction in his heart, the trident-wielding God of gods said, 'The pain thou hast suffered in consequence of the fall of weapons upon thy body evidences the super-human feat that thou hast achieved, O delighter of the Bhrigus. As desired by thee, accept from me these celestial weapons.'"' "'Duryodhana continued, "Having obtained all the celestial weapons and the boons that had been desired by him, Rama bowed unto Siva with his head. Obtaining the leave also of the gods that great ascetic went away. This is the old story that the rishi had recited. The descendant of Bhrigu gave the whole science of weapons unto the high-souled Karna, O tiger among kings with delighted heart. If Karna had any fault, O lord of Earth, the delighter of Bhrigu's race would never have given him his celestial weapons. I do not think that Karna could have been born in the Suta order. I think him to be the son of a god, born in the Kshatriya order. I think that he was abandoned (in infancy) in order that the race in which he was born might be ascertained (by his features and feats). By no means, O Shalya, could this Karna have been born in the Suta order. With his (natural) earring and (natural) coat of mail, this mighty car-warrior of long arms, resembling Surya himself, could not be borne by a common woman even as a she-deer can never bear a tiger. His arms are massive, each resembling the trunk of a prince of elephants. Behold his chest that is so broad and capable of resisting every foe. Karna otherwise called Vaikartana, O king, cannot be an ordinary person. Endued with great valour, this disciple of Rama, O king of kings, is a high-souled personage."'" 35 "'Duryodhana said, "Even thus did that illustrious Deity, that Grandsire of all the worlds, viz., Brahman, act as driver on that occasion and even thus did Rudra become the warrior. The driver of the car, O hero, should be superior to the warrior on it. Therefore, O tiger among men, do thou hold the reins of the steeds in this battle. As on that occasion the Grandsire had been selected with care by all the celestials, indeed, O great king, as one greater than Sankara, so thou that art superior to Karna art now selected by us with care. Like the Grandsire holding the reins of Rudra's steeds, do thou hold, without delay, the reins of Karna's steeds in battle, O thou of great splendour." "'Shalya said, "O foremost of men, many a time have I heard this excellent and celestial history, recited to me, of those two lions among gods. Indeed, I have heard how the Grandsire acted as the driver of Bhava and how the Asuras also, O Bharata, were all destroyed with one shaft. Krishna also had knowledge of all this before, the knowledge, viz., of how the illustrious Grandsire had become the driver on that occasion of yore. Indeed, Krishna knoweth the past and the future with all their details. Knowing this fact, he became the driver, O Bharata, of Partha like the Self-create becoming the driver of Rudra. If the Suta's son, by some means, succeeds in slaying the son of Kunti, Keshava, beholding Partha slain, will fight himself. That bearer of the conch, the discus, and the mace, will then consume thy army. There is no king here that will stay in the ranks in front of that illustrious one of Vrishni's race when he will be excited with wrath."'" "Sanjaya said, 'Unto the ruler of the Madras who was speaking in that strain, that chastiser of foes, viz., thy mighty-armed son of cheerful soul replied, saying, "Do not, O mighty-armed one, think disparagingly of Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana, in battle,--that warrior who is the foremost of all wielders of arms and who is acquainted with the meaning of the whole body of our scriptures. Hearing the terrible and loud twang of his bow and the sound of his palms, the Pandava troops fly away on all sides. Thou hast witnessed it with thy own eyes, O mighty-armed one, how Ghatotkaca, screened by his illusions and displaying hundreds of illusions, was still slain that night (by Karna). Feeling a great fear all these days Vibhatsu could never stand, fronting Karna. The mighty Bhimasena also, moved hither and thither by the horn of Karna's bow, was, O king, addressed in very harsh words such as 'Fool' and 'Glutton.' The two brave sons of Madri also were defeated by Karna in great battle, though, from some object he had in view, he did not, O sire, slay them then. That foremost one of Vrishni's race, viz., the heroic Satyaki, the chief of the Satwata clan, was vanquished by Karna and made carless. Others, such as all the Srinjayas headed by Dhrishtadyumna, have been repeatedly defeated in battle by Karna the great car-warrior who has achieved all these feats and who excited with wrath, is competent to slay Purandara himself armed with the thunderbolt in fight. Thyself also, O hero, art acquainted with every weapon. Thou art, again, the master of all branches of learning. There is none on Earth who is thy equal in might of arms. Irresistible in prowess, thou art like a dart (Shalya) unto thy enemies. It is for this, O king, that thou O slayer of foes, art called 'Shalya.' Encountering the might of thy arms, all the Satwatas were unable to get the better of it. Is Krishna superior to thee in might of arms, O king? Indeed, as Krishna is to bear the burthen of the Pandava troops upon the slaughter of Partha, even so art thou to bear the burthen of this vast (Kaurava) force if Karna lays down his life. Why should he be able to resist my troops and why shouldst not thou be able to slay the hostile troops, O sire? For thy sake, O sire, I would willingly follow the footsteps of my (slain) brothers and the other heroic kings of the Earth."' "'Shalya said, "O son of Gandhari, when thou, O giver of honours, describest me before thy troops to be superior to the son of Devaki, I am exceedingly gratified with thee. I accept the drivership of the celebrated son of Radha when he will fight with that foremost of the sons of Pandu, as thou desirest. I have, however, O hero, a compact to make with Vaikartana, and that is this: I will utter whatever words I may wish, in this one's presence."' "Sanjaya continued, 'Thy son then, O king, with Karna, O sire, answered the ruler of the Madras, saying, "Let it be so" in the presence of all the Kshatriyas. Assured by Shalya's acceptance of the drivership, Duryodhana, filled with joy, embraced Karna. Eulogised (by bards and panegyrists around), thy son then once more addressed Karna, saying, "Slay all the Parthas in battle, like the great Indra slaying the Danavas." Shalya having accepted the office of holding the reins of his steeds, Karna, with a cheerful heart, once more addressed Duryodhana, saying, "The ruler of the Madras does not say very cheerfully what he says. O king, solicit him once more in sweet words." Thus addressed, the mighty king Duryodhana, possessed of great wisdom and accomplished in everything, once more spoke unto that lord of Earth, viz., Shalya, the ruler of Madras, in a voice deep as that of the clouds and filling the whole region there with the sound of that voice: "O Shalya, Karna thinks that he should fight with Arjuna today. O tiger among men hold the reins of Karna's steeds in battle. Having slain all the other warriors Karna desires to slay Phalguna. I solicit thee, O king, repeatedly, in the matter of holding the reins of his steeds. As Krishna, that foremost of all drivers, is the counsellor of Partha, even so do thou protect the son of Radha today from every danger."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Embracing thy son then, Shalya the ruler of the Madras, joyfully answered that slayer of foes, viz., Duryodhana, saying, "If this is what is thou thinkest, O royal son of Gandhari, O thou of handsome features, I shall, for that, accomplish everything that may be agreeable to thee. O chief of the Bharatas, for whatever acts I may be fit, employing myself therein with my whole heart, I will bear the burthen of those acts of thine. Let Karna, however, and thyself pardon me all those words, agreeable or disagreeable, that I may speak unto Karna from desire of his good."'" "'Karna said, "O ruler of the Madras, be thou ever engaged in our good as Brahman in that of Ishana, as Keshava in that of Partha." "'Shalya said, "These four kinds of conduct--self-rebuke and self-praise, speaking ill of others, and adulation of others, are never practised by those that are respectable. That, however, O learned one, which I shall say, for inspiring thy confidence is fraught with self-adulation. For all that, listen to it duly. O puissant one, like Matali himself, I am fit to act as the driver of even Indra in watchfulness, in managing the steeds, in knowledge of coming danger and of the means of avoiding it, and in competence to avoid it in practice. When thou wilt be engaged in battle with Partha, I will hold the reins of thy steeds. Let thy anxiety be dispelled, O Suta's son."'" 36 "'Duryodhana said, "This one, O Karna, will act as thy driver, this ruler of the Madras, who is superior to Krishna, like Matali the driver of the chief of the celestials. Indeed, as Matali taketh the management of the car unto which the steeds of Indra are attached, even so will Shalya be the driver of the steeds of thy car today. With thyself as warrior on that vehicle and the ruler of the Madras as its driver, that foremost of car will certainly vanquish the Parthas in battle."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'When the morning came, O monarch, Duryodhana once more addressed the ruler of the Madras endued with great activity, saying, "O ruler of the Madras, hold the reins in battle of Karna's foremost of steeds. Protected by thee, the son of Radha will vanquish Dhananjaya." Thus addressed, Shalya, answering, "So be it" ascended the car, O Bharata. When Shalya approached that car, Karna with a cheerful heart addressed his driver, saying, "O charioteer, quickly equip the car for me." Having duly equipped that triumphal car, the foremost of its kind, which resembled the vapoury mansions in the sky, Shalya presented it to Karna, saying, "Blessed be thou, victory to thee." Then Karna, that foremost of car-warriors, duly worshipping that car which had in days of old been sanctified by a priest conversant with Brahma, and circumambulating it and carefully adoring the god Surya addressed the ruler of the Madras standing near, saying, "Ascend the vehicle." Thereupon Shalya of mighty energy ascended that large, invincible, and foremost of cars, belonging to Karna like a lion ascending a mountain summit. Beholding Shalya stationed, Karna ascended his excellent car like the Sun riding on a mass of clouds charged with lightning. Mounted on the same car, those two heroes endued with the splendour or the Sun of fire looked resplendent like Surya and Agni sitting together on a cloud in the firmament. Eulogised then (by bards and panegyrists), those two heroes of great effulgence looked like Indra and Agni adored with hymns in a sacrifice by Ritwiks and Sadasyas. Karna stood on that car, the reins of whose steeds were held by Shalya, stretching his formidable bow, like the Sun himself within a halo of circular light. Stationed on that foremost of cars, that tiger among men, Karna, with his shafts constituting his rays, looked beautiful like the Sun on the Mandara mountains. Unto the mighty-armed son of Radha that warrior of immeasurable energy, stationed on his car for battle, Duryodhana said these words, "O son of Adhiratha, O hero, do thou achieve that feat difficult of accomplishment which Drona and Bhishma have not achieved in the very sight of all the bowmen. I had always believed that those two mighty car-warriors, viz., Bhishma and Drona, would without doubt slay Arjuna and Bhimasena in battle. Like a second wielder of the thunderbolt, O son of Radha, do thou in great battle achieve that feat worthy of a hero which was not achieved by those two. Either seize king Yudhishthira the just or slay Dhananjaya and Bhimasena, O son of Radha, and the twin sons of Madri. Blessed be thou, let victory be thine. Set out for battle, O tiger among men. Reduce to ashes all the troops of Pandu's son." Then thousands of trumpets and tens of thousands of drums, sounded together, produced a noise like that of the clouds in the welkin. Accepting those words (of Duryodhana), the foremost of car-warriors stationed on his car, viz., the son of Radha, addressed Shalya, that warrior accomplished in battle, saying, "Urge the steeds, O mighty-armed one, so that I may slay Dhananjaya and Bhimasena and both the twins and king Yudhishthira. O Shalya, let Dhananjaya behold today the might of my arms, when I will be engaged in shooting shafts winged with Kanka feathers in hundreds and thousands. Today, O Shalya, I will shoot shafts with great energy for the destruction of the Pandavas and the victory of Duryodhana." "'Shalya said, "O Suta's son, why dost thou think so low of the sons of Pandu, all of whom are endued with great might, all of whom are great bowmen, and all of whom are acquainted with every weapon? They are unretreating, of great good fortune, invincible, and of prowess incapable of being baffled. They are capable of inspiring fear in the heart of Indra himself. When, son of Radha thou wilt hear the twang of Gandiva in battle, resembling the peal of the thunder itself, thou wilt not then utter such speeches. When thou wilt behold Dharma's son and the twins causing a canopy, like that of the clouds in the welkin, with their sharp arrows, and the other invincible kings (of the Pandava army), endued with great lightness of hands and shooting (showers of shafts) and weakening their foes, then thou wilt not utter such words."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Disregarding those words spoken by the ruler of the Madras, Karna addressing him endued with great activity, saying, "Proceed."'" 37 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the mighty Karna take up his station from desire of battle, the Kauravas, filled with delight, uttered loud shouts from every side. With the beat of cymbals and the sound of drums, with the whizz of diverse kinds of arrows and the roars of combatants endued with great activity, all thy troops proceeded to battle, making death only the point at which to stop. When Karna set out and the warriors of the Kuru army were filled with joy, the Earth, O king, trembled and made a loud noise. The seven great planets including the Sun seemed to proceed against one another (for combat). Meteoric showers became noticeable and all the quarters seemed ablaze. Thunders fell from a cloudless sky, and fierce winds began to blow. Animals and birds in larger numbers kept thy army to their right, foreboding great calamities. After Karna had set out, his steeds tumbled down on the Earth. A frightful shower of bones fell from the sky. The weapons (of the Kuru warriors) seemed to be ablaze; their standards trembled; and their animals, O monarch, shed copious tears. These and many other terrible and awful portents appeared for the destruction of the Kurus. Stupefied by destiny, none of them regarded those portents at all. Beholding the Suta's son setting out, all the rulers of men (in the Kaurava army) cried victory to him. The Kauravas regarded the Pandavas to have been already vanquished. That slayer of hostile heroes, that foremost of car-warriors, viz., Vaikartana, as he stayed on his car recollecting the death of Bhishma and Drona, blazed up with splendour like the Sun or fire. Reflecting on the mighty feats of Partha, and burning with self-conceit and pride, and blazing with wrath and breathing long and hard, he addressed Shalya and said these words: "When stationed on my car and armed with my bow, I would not take fright at Indra himself armed with the thunder and excited with wrath. Beholding those great heroes headed by Bhishma lying on the field of battle, do not feel any anxiety. Seeing even the faultless Bhishma and Drona, equal unto Indra and Vishnu, those crushers of foremost of cars and steeds and elephants, those heroes that were unslayable, slain by the foe, I do not still experience any fear in this battle. Acquainted with mighty weapons, and himself the foremost of Brahmanas, why, indeed, did not the preceptor slay in battle all foes, seeing them destroy the mightiest of our kings with their drivers and elephants and cars? Remembering that Drona in great battle, I tell you truly, listen to me, ye Kurus, there is none amongst you, save myself, that is competent to bear the advancing Arjuna, that warrior who resembles Death himself in his fiercest form. In Drona were the skills attendant on practice, and might, and bravery, and the highest of weapons and policy. When even that high-souled one had to succumb to Death, I regard all the others (of our army), strengthless and on the point of death. In this world I do not find anything, even on reflection, to be stable, in consequence of the inevitable connection of acts. When the preceptor himself is dead, who then will indulge in the certain belief that he will live till even today's sun-rise? When the preceptor was thus slain by the enemy in battle, without doubt weapons, ordinary and celestial, and might and prowess, and achievements and wise policy, are not able to compass the happiness of man. In energy Drona was equal to fire or the Sun, in prowess he resembled Vishnu or Purandara; in policy he was equal to Brihaspati or Usana; irresistible as he was, weapons could not yet protect him. When (our) women and children are weeping and uttering loud wails, when the valour of the Dhartarashtras has been defeated, I know it, O Shalya, that it is I who am to fight. Proceed therefore, against the army of our enemies. Who else, save myself, will be able to bear those troops amongst whom are stationed the royal son of Pandu firm in truth, and Bhimasena and Arjuna, and Satyaki, and the twins? Therefore, O ruler of the Madras, proceed quickly, in this battle, towards the Pancalas, the Pandavas, and the Srinjayas. Encountering them in battle, either I will slay them, or myself to Yama's presence by the path taken by Drona. Do not think, O Shalya, that I will not go into the very midst of those heroes. These intestine dissensions cannot be tolerated by me. (Without seeking to tolerate them) I will even follow in the wake of Drona. Wise or ignorant, when his period is run out, everybody is equally regarded by the Destroyer; no one can escape, O learned one, for this, I will proceed against the Parthas. I am unable to transgress my destiny. The son of Vichitravirya's son is, O king, always engaged in doing me good. For the accomplishment of his purpose, I will cast away my life-breaths that are so dear, and this body that is so difficult of being cast away. This foremost of cars covered with tigerskins, with axle producing no sound equipped with a golden seat endued with trivenu made of silver, and unto which are yoked these foremost of steeds, Rama gave unto me. Behold, also, O Shalya, these beautiful bows, these standards, these maces, these shafts of fierce forms, this blazing sword, this mighty weapon, this white conch of fierce and loud blare. Riding upon this car decked with banners, its wheels producing a rattle deep as that of the thunder, having white steeds yoked unto it, and adorned with excellent quivers, I will, putting forth my might, slay in battle that bull among car-warriors, Arjuna. If Death himself, that universal consumer, were to protect with vigilance the son of Pandu in battle, I would still encounter him in fight and either slay him or myself go to Yama's presence following Bhishma. If Yama, Varuna, Kuvera, and Vasava, with all their followers coming hither, unitedly protect the son of Pandu in this great battle, what need of many words, I will still vanquish him with them."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Hearing these words of the bragging Karna who was exceedingly delighted with the prospect of battle, the valiant king of the Madras, deriding him, laughed aloud, and gave him the following reply for checking him. "'Shalya said, "Forbear, forbear, O Karna, from such bragging. Thou art in transports of delight and sayest what thou shouldst never say. Where is Dhananjaya, that foremost of men, and where again, art thou, O lowest of men? Who else, save Arjuna, could take away the younger sister of (Keshava) that foremost of all persons, having forcibly agitated the home of the Yadus that was protected by the younger brother of Indra and that resembled heaven itself that is guarded by the chief of celestials? What man save Arjuna who is endued with prowess that is equal to the prowess of the chief of the celestials, could on the occasion of the dispute caused by the slaughter of an animal, summon Bhava the Lord of Lords, the Creator of the worlds, to battle? For the sake of honouring Agni, Jaya had vanquished Asuras and gods and great snakes and men and birds and Pishacas and Yakshas and Rakshasas with his shafts and gave unto that god the food he had desired. Dost thou remember, O Karna, the occasion when, slaughtering those foes in large numbers with his excellent shafts endued with the effulgence of the Sun, Phalguna liberated Dhritarashtra's son himself among the Kurus? Dost thou remember the occasion when, thyself having been the first to fly away, the quarrelsome sons of Dhritarashtra were liberated by the Pandavas after the latter had defeated those rangers of the skies (the Gandharvas headed by Citraratha)? On the occasion also of the seizure of (Virata's) kine, the Kauravas, swelling with numbers in respect of both men and animals, and having the preceptor and the preceptor's son and Bhishma amongst them, were vanquished by that foremost of men. Why, O son of Suta, didst thou not vanquish Arjuna then? For thy destruction another excellent battle has now presented itself. If thou dost not fly away from fear of thy enemy, know O Suta's son, that as soon as thou goest to battle thou wilt be slain."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'When the ruler of the Madras was most heartily engaged in addressing these harsh speeches to Karna and uttering these praises of the latter's foe, that scorcher of foes, viz., the commander of the Kuru army, excited with rage, said these words unto the Madra king. "'Karna said, "Let it be so, let it be so. Why, however, dost thou indulge in Arjuna's praises? A battle is about to ensue between myself and him. If he vanquishes me in fight, then will these thy praises be regarded as well-uttered."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'The ruler of the Madras said, "Let it be so," and gave no reply. When Karna, from desire of fight, addressed Shalya, saying, "Proceed," then that great car-warrior, having white steeds yoked unto his vehicle and owning Shalya as his charioteer, proceeded against his foes, slaying large numbers in battle along his way, like the Sun destroying the darkness. Indeed, on that car covered with tiger-skins and having white steeds yoked unto it, Karna proceeded with a cheerful heart, and beholding the army of the Pandavas, speedily enquired after Dhananjaya.'" 38 "Sanjaya said 'After Karna, gladdening thy army, had set out for battle, he spoke unto every Pandava soldier that he met with, even these words: "Unto him that will today point out the high-souled Dhananjaya of white steeds to me, I will give whatever wealth he desires. If having got it he does not become satisfied, I shall in addition, give him,--him that is, that will discover Arjuna to me, a cart-load of jewels and gems. If that does not satisfy the person who discovers Arjuna to me, I will give him a century of kine with as many vessels of brass for milking those animals. I will give a hundred foremost of villages unto the person that discovers Arjuna to me. I will also give him that shows Arjuna to me a number of long-tressed damsels of black eyes and a car unto which shall be yoked white mules. If that does not satisfy the person that discovers Arjuna to me, I shall give him another foremost of cars, made of gold, and having six bulls yoked unto it that shall be as large as elephants. I shall also give unto him a hundred damsels decked with ornaments, with collars of gold, fair-complexioned and accomplished in singing and dancing. If that does not satisfy the person that discovers Arjuna to me, I shall give him a 100 elephants, a 100 villages and a 100 cars, and 10,000 steeds of the foremost of breed, fat, docile, endued with many excellent qualities, capable of dragging cars and well-trained. I shall also give to the person that discovers Arjuna to me four hundred kine, each with golden horns and her calf. If that does not satisfy the person that discovers Arjuna to me, I shall make him a more valuable gift, viz., five hundred steeds, adorned with trappings of gold and decked with jewelled ornaments. I shall also give eighteen other steeds of great docility. I shall also give the person that discovers Arjuna to me a bright car made of gold and adorned with diverse ornaments and having foremost of Kamboja steeds yoked unto it. If that does not satisfy the person that discovers Arjuna to me, I shall make him a more valuable gift, viz., six hundred elephants, with chains of gold around their necks, and covered with housings of gold, born in the western shores of the ocean, and trained by elephant trainers. If that does not satisfy the person that discovers Arjuna to me, I shall make him a more valuable gift, viz., fourteen Vaishya villages, teeming with people, full of wealth, situated in the proximity of forests and rivers, free from all sorts of danger, well furnished (with other necessaries), and worthy of being enjoyed by kings. To him that will discover Dhananjaya to me, I shall also give a hundred female slaves, with golden collars, belonging to the country of the Magadhas, and of very youthful age. If that does not satisfy the person that discovers Arjuna to me, I will make him a more valuable gift, that, indeed, which he himself will solicit. Sons, wives and articles of pleasure and enjoyment that I have, these all I shall give him if he desires them. Indeed, unto him who discovers Keshava and Arjuna to me, I shall, after slaying those two, give all the wealth that may be left by them." Having uttered those diverse speeches in that battle, Karna blew his excellent conch, sea-born and producing a sweet blare. Hearing these words of Suta's son that were suitable to his disposition, Duryodhana, O king, with all his followers became filled with joy. At that juncture the beat of cymbals and drums and leonine shouts, and grunts of elephants with the sounds of diverse musical instruments, arose there, O king, among the (Kaurava) troops, O bull among men. The shouts also of warriors filled with joy arose there. When the (Kaurava) troops were thus filled with joy, the ruler of the Madras, laughing in scorn, said these words unto that grinder of foes, viz., the son of Radha, that mighty car-warrior who was about to plunge into that ocean of battle and who was indulging in such vain bragging.'" 39 "'Shalya said, "Do not, O Suta's son, give away to any man a golden car with six bulls of elephantine proportions. Thou wilt obtain a sight of Dhananjaya today. From foolishness thou art giving away wealth as if thou wert the Lord of treasures. Without any trouble, however, O son of Radha, thou wilt behold Dhananjaya today. Thou art for giving away this wealth like a senseless person; but thou seest not the demerits attaching to those gifts that are made to undeserving persons. With that large wealth which thou art desirous of giving away, thou art certainly able to perform many sacrifices. Therefore, O Suta's son, do thou perform those sacrifices. As regards thy desire, entertained from folly, that is surely vain. We have never heard of a couple of lions having been overthrown by a fox. Thou seekest what should never be sought by thee. It seems that thou hast no friends for forbidding thee that art speedily falling into a blazing fire. Thou art unable to discriminate between what thou shouldst do and what thou shouldst not. Without doubt thy period is full. What man desirous of living would utter speeches that are so incoherent and undeserving of being listened to? This thy endeavour is like that of a person desirous of crossing the ocean by the aid of only his two arms after having attached to his neck a heavy stone, or of one desirous of leaping down from the summit of a mountain. If thou art desirous of winning what is for thy good, fight with Dhananjaya, well protected from within thy arrayed division, and aided by all thy warriors. I say this to thee for the good of Dhritarashtra's son and not from any ill will to thee. If thou hast any wish for preserving thy life then accept the words spoken by me.'" "'Karna said, "Relying on the might of my own arms I seek Arjuna in battle. Thou, however, that art a foe with the face of a friend desirest to frighten me. No person shall deter me from this resolution, not even Indra himself uplifting his thunder; what then need be said of a mortal?"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'At the conclusion of these words of Karna, Shalya, the ruler of the Madras, desirous of provoking Karna exceedingly, said these words in reply, "When keen-pointed shafts winged with Kanka feathers, shot by Phalguna of mighty arms and impelled from his bow-string and sped with all his energy will seek thee then wilt thou lament thy encounter with that hero. When Partha, called also Savyasaci, taking up his celestial bow, will scorch the (Kuru) army and afflict thee exceedingly with keen shafts, then, O Suta's son, wilt thou repent (of thy folly). As a child lying on the lap of its mother seeks to seize the Moon, even so dost thou from folly seek to vanquish the resplendent Arjuna stationed on his car. In desiring, O Karna, to fight today with Arjuna of keen-edged feats, thou art for rubbing all thy limbs against the keen edges of a trident. This thy challenge of Arjuna, O Suta's son, is like that of a foolish young little deer of activity challenging a huge lion excited with wrath. Do not, O Suta's son, challenge that prince of mighty energy like a fox gratified with meat in the forest challenging the maned monarch of the forest. Do not be destroyed, encountering Arjuna. Thou, O Karna, challengest Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, even like a hare challenging a mighty elephant with tusks large as plough-shafts, and with the juice issuing out of its mouth and rent cheeks. From folly thou art piercing, with a piece of wood, the black cobra of virulent poison excited to fury within its hole, in desiring to fight with Partha. Endued with little understanding, thou, O Karna, disregarding that lion among men, viz., the son of Pandu, yellest at him, like a jackal that, disregarding a maned lion excited with wrath, yells at him. As a snake, for its own destruction, challenges that foremost of birds, viz., Vinata's son, possessed of beautiful plumage and great activity, even so dost thou, O Karna, challenge Dhananjaya the son of Pandu. Thou desirest to cross without a raft the terrible ocean, the receptacle of all the waters, with its mountain waves and teeming with aquatic animals, when at its height at the rise of the Moon. O Karna, thou challengest Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, to battle even like a calf challenging a smiting bull of keen horns and neck thick as a drum. Like a frog croaking at a terrible and mighty cloud yielding copious showers of rain, thou croakest at Arjuna who is even like Parjanya among men. As a dog from within the precincts of the house of his master barks at a forest-roaming tiger, even so, O Karna, thou barkest at Dhananjaya, that tiger among men. A jackal, O Karna, residing in the forest in the midst of hares regardeth himself a lion till he actually sees a lion. Even so, O son of Radha, thou regardest thyself a lion, for thou dost not behold that repressor of foes, that tiger among men, viz., Dhananjaya. Thou regardest thyself a lion till thou beholdest the two Krishnas stationed on the same car like Surya and Candramas. As long as thou dost not hear the twang of Gandiva in great battle, so long art thou able to do what thou pleasest. Beholding Partha, causing the ten points of the compass to resound with the roar of his car and the twang of his bow, and beholding him roaring like a tiger, thou wilt become a jackal. Thou art always a jackal, and Dhananjaya always a lion. O fool, in consequence of thy envy and hatred for heroes, thou always, seemest to be like a jackal. As a mouse and a car are to each other in strength, or a dog and a tiger, a fox and a lion, or a hare and an elephant, as falsehood and truth, as poison and nectar, even so art thou and Partha known to all by your respective deeds."'" 40 "Sanjaya said, 'Thus rebuked by Shalya of immeasurable energy, the son of Radha, feeling the propriety of his rebuker's name in consequence of his wordy darts, and becoming filled with rage, answered him thus: "'Karna said, "The merits of meritorious men, O Shalya, are known to them that are themselves meritorious but not to them that are destitute of merit. Thou, however, art destitute of every merit. How then canst thou judge of merit and demerit? The mighty weapons of Arjuna, his wrath, his energy, his bow, his shafts and the prowess also of that high-souled hero are, O Shalya, well known to me. So also, O Shalya, thou dost not know, so as well as I myself, the greatness of Krishna, that bull among the lords of Earth. But knowing my own energy as also that of Pandu's son, I challenge him to battle, O Shalya, I do not act like an insect in respect of a blazing fire. I have this shaft, O Shalya, of keen mouth, blood-drinking, lying alone within one quiver, equipped with wings, well-steeped in oil and well-adorned. It lieth amid sandal dust, worshipped by me for long years. Partaking of the nature and form of a snake, it is poisonous and fierce and capable of killing large numbers of men and steeds and elephants of terrible form, and exceedingly awful, it is capable of piercing coats of mail and bones. Inspired with wrath, I may pierce even the mighty mountains of Meru with it. That shaft I will never shoot at any other person save Phalguna or Krishna, the son of Devaki. In this I tell thee the truth. Listen to it. With that shaft, O Shalya, I will, inspired with rage, fight with Vasudeva and Dhananjaya. That would be a feat worthy of me. Of all the heroes in the Vrishni race, it is Krishna in whom Prosperity is always established. Among all the sons of Pandu, it is Partha in whom Victory is always established. Those two tigers among men, stationed together on the same car, will advance against my single self for battle. Thou shalt, O Shalya, behold today the nobility of my lineage. Those two cousins, one of whom is the son of the aunt and the other the son of the maternal uncle, those two invincible warriors, thou shalt see, will be slain by me (with one shaft) and will look like two pearls strung together in the same string. Arjuna's Gandiva and the ape-bearing banner, and Krishna's discus and the Garuda-bearing banner, inspire with fear only those that are timid. To me, however, O Shalya, they are causes of delight. Thou art a fool, of evil disposition, and unskilled in the ways of great battle. Overcome with terror, thou utterest these ravings. Or, thou art praising them for some reason not known to me. Having slain those two first, I shall then slay thee today with all thy kinsmen. Born in a sinful country thou art wicked-souled and mean, and a wretch amongst Kshatriyas. Being a friend, why dost thou, like an enemy, frighten me with these praises of the two Krishnas? Either they two will slay me today or I will slay them two. Knowing as I do my own might, I do not cherish any fear of the two Krishnas. A 1,000 Vasudevas and hundreds of Phalgunas, I shall, single-handed, slay. Hold thy tongue, O thou that art born in a sinful country. Hear from me, O Shalya, the sayings, already passed into proverbs, that men, young and old, and women, and persons arrived in course of their listless wanderings, generally utter, as if those sayings formed part of their studies, about the wicked Madrakas. Brahmanas also duly narrated the same things formerly in the courts of kings. Listening to those sayings attentively, O fool, thou mayst forgive or rejoin. The Madraka is always a hater of friends. He that hateth us is a Madraka. There is no friendship in the Madraka who is mean in speech and is the lowest of mankind. The Madraka is always a person of wicked soul, is always untruthful and crooked. It hath been heard by us that till the moment of death the Madrakas are wicked. (Amongst the Madrakas) the sire, the son, the mother, the mother-in-law, the brother, the grand-son, and other kinsmen, companions, strangers arrived at their homes, slaves male and female, mingle together. The women of the Madrakas mingle, at their own will, with men known and unknown. Of unrighteous conduct, and subsisting upon fried and powdered corn and fish, in their homes, they laugh and cry having drunk spirits and eaten beef. They sing incoherent songs and mingle lustfully with one another, indulging the while in the freest speeches. How then can virtue have a place amongst the Madrakas who are arrogant and notorious for all kinds of evil acts? No one should make friends with a Madraka or provoke hostilities with him. In the Madraka land there is no friendship. The Madraka is always the dirt of humanity. Amongst the Madrakas all acts of friendship are lost as purity amongst the Gandharakas and the libations poured in a sacrifice in which the king is himself the sacrificer and priest. Then again, it is truly seen that wise men treat a person bit by a scorpion and affected by its poison, even with these words: 'As a Brahmana that assists at the religious ceremonies of a Shudra suffereth degradation, as one that hateth Brahmanas always suffereth degradation, even so a person by making an alliance with the Madrakas becometh fallen. As there is no friendship in the Madraka, so, O scorpion, thy poison is nought.' With these mantras of the Atharvan I have duly performed the rite of exorcism. Knowing this, O learned one, hold thy tongue, or listen to something further that I will say. Those women that, intoxicated by spirits, cast off their robes and dance, those women that are not attached (to particular individuals) in the matter of intercourse and that they do as they please without owning any restrictions, I say, that being as thou art the child of one of those women, how canst thou, O Madraka, be a fit person for declaring the duties of men? Those women that live and answer calls of nature like camels and asses, being as thou art the child of one of those sinful and shameless creatures, how canst thou wish to declare the duties of men? When a Madraka woman is solicited for the gift of a little quantity of vinegar, she scratches her hips and without being desirous of giving it, says these cruel words, 'Let no man ask any vinegar of me that is so dear to me. I would give him my son, I would give him my husband, but vinegar I would not give.' The young Madraka maidens, we hear, are generally very shameless and hairy and gluttonous and impure. These and many other things of a like nature, in respect of all their acts, from the crown of their heads to the tip of their toes, are capable of being asserted of them by myself and others. How, indeed, would the Madrakas and the Sindhu-Sauviras know anything of duty, being born, as they are, in a sinful country, being Mlecchas in their practices, and being totally regardless of all duties? It hath been heard by us that even this is the highest duty of a Kshatriya, viz., that slain in battle, he should lie down on the Earth, applauded by the righteous. That I should lay down (my life) in this clash of arms is my foremost wish, desirous as I am of heaven through Death. I am also the dear friend of the intelligent son of Dhritarashtra. For his sake are my life-breaths and whatever wealth I have! As regards thyself, O thou that art born in a sinful country, it is evident that thou hast been tampered with by the Pandavas, since thou behavest towards us in everything like a foe. Like a righteous man that is incapable of being led astray by atheists, surely I am incapable of being dissuaded from this battle by hundreds of persons like thee. Like a deer, covered with sweat, thou art at liberty to weep or thirst. Observant as I am of the duties of a Kshatriya, I am incapable of being frightened by thee. I recall to my mind the end, declared unto me in past times by my preceptor Rama, of those lions among men, those unreturning heroes, that laid down their lives in battle. Prepared for rescuing the Kauravas and slaying our foes, know that I am now determined to imitate the excellent behaviour of Pururavas. I do not, O ruler of the Madrakas, behold the person in the three worlds that can, I think, dissuade me from this purpose. Forbear to speak, knowing all this. Why dost thou rave in such a way from fear? O wretch amongst the Madrakas, I shall not now slay thee and present thy carcase as an offering to carnivorous creatures. From regard for a friend, O Shalya, for the sake of Dhritarashtra's son, and for avoiding blame, for these three reasons, thou still livest. If, O ruler of the Madras, thou speakest such words again, I shall then crush thy head with my mace that is as hard as the thunder. People will today see or hear, O thou that art born in a sinful country, either that the two Krishnas have slain Karna or that Karna has slain the two Krishnas." Having said these words, the son of Radha, O monarch, once more addressed the king of the Madras, fearlessly saying, "Proceed, proceed."'" 41 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing, O sire, these words of Radha's son who delighted in battle, Shalya once more addressed Karna, citing an example, "I am born in the race of men who performed great sacrifices, who never retreated from battle, who were kings whose coronal locks underwent the sacred bath. I am also myself devoted to the practice of virtue. Thou, O Vrisha, seemest to be like one that is intoxicated with spirits. For all that, I will, from friendship, seek to cure thy erring and intoxicated self. Listen, O Karna, to this simile of a crow that I am about to narrate. Having heard it, thou mayest do what thou choosest, O thou that art destitute of intelligence and that art a wretch of thy race. I do not, O Karna, remember the slightest fault in me for which, O thou of mighty arms, thou mayst desire to slay my innocent self. I must tell thee what is for thy good and what is for thy ill, acquainted as I am with both, especially as I am the driver of thy car and desirous of the good of king Duryodhana. What land is level and what not, the strength or weakness of the warrior (on my vehicle), the fatigue and faintness, at all times, of the steeds and the warrior (I am driving), a knowledge of the weapons that are available, the cries of animals and birds, what would be heavy for the steeds and what exceedingly heavy for them, the extraction of arrows and the curing of wounds which weapons counteract which, the several methods of battle, and all kinds of omens and indications, I who am so nearly connected with this car, being none else than its driver, should be familiar with. For this, O Karna, I narrate this instance to thee once more. There lived on the other side of the ocean a Vaishya who had abundance of wealth and corn. He performed sacrifices, made liberal gifts, was peaceful, devoted to the duties of his own order, and pure in habits and mind. He had many sons whom he loved, and was kind unto all creatures. He lived fearlessly in the dominions of a king that was guided by virtue. There was a crow that lived on the refuse of the dishes set before those well-behaved young children of the Vaishya. Those Vaishya children always gave the crow meat and curds, and milk, and sugared milk with rice, and honey, and butter. Thus fed with the refuse of their dishes by the young children of that Vaishya, the crow became arrogant and came to disregard all birds that were equal to him or even superior. It chanced that once certain swans of cheerful hearts, of great speed and capable of going everywhere at will and equal unto Garuda himself in range and speed of flight, came to that side of the ocean. The Vaishya boys, beholding those swans, addressed the crow and said, 'O ranger of the skies, thou art superior to all winged creatures.' Deceived by those children of little understanding, that oviparous creature from folly and pride, regarded their words to be true. Proud of the refuse of the children's dishes upon which he fed, the crow then, alighting in the midst of those swans capable of traversing great distances, desired to enquire as to who amongst them was their leader. The foolish crow at last challenged him amongst those birds of tireless wings whom he regarded their leader, saying, 'Let us compete in flight.' Hearing those words of the raving crow, the swans that had assembled there, those foremost of birds endued with great strength, began to laugh. The swans then, that were capable of going everywhere at will, addressed the crow, saying. 'We are swans, having our abode in the Manasa lake. We traverse the whole Earth, and amongst winged creatures we are always applauded for the length of the distances we traverse. Being, as thou art, only a crow, how canst thou, O fool, challenge a swan endued with might, capable of going everywhere at will, and doing large distances in course of his flight? Tell us, O crow, how thou shalt fly with us.' The boastful crow, in consequence of the foolishness of his species, repeatedly finding fault with the words of that swan, at last gave this answer. The crow said, 'I shall without doubt fly displaying a hundred and one different kinds of motion. Doing every hundred Yojanas in a separate and beautiful kind of motion, I shall display all those motions. Rising up, and swooping down, and whirling around, and coursing straight, and proceeding gently, and advancing steadily, and performing the diverse courses up and receding back, and soaring high, and darting forward and soaring upwards with fiercer velocity, and once more proceeding gently and then proceeding with great impetuosity, and once again swooping down and whirling around and advancing steadily, and rising up by the jerks, and soaring straight, and once more falling down and wheeling in a circle and rushing proudly, and diverse other kinds of motion, these all I shall display in the sight of all you. Ye shall then witness my strength. With one of these different kinds of motion I shall presently rise into the sky. Point out duly, ye swans, by which of these motions I shall course through space. Settling the kind of motion amongst yourselves, you will have to course with me. Adopting all those different motion, ye shall have to course with me through supportless space.' The crow having said these words, one of the swans addressed him, 'Listen, O son of Radha, to the words that the swan said. The swan spoke, 'Thou, O crow, wilt doubtless fly the hundred and one different kinds of flight. I shall, however, fly in that one kind of motion that all (other) birds know, for I do not, O crow, know any other. As regards thee, O thou of red eyes, fly thou in any kind of course that thou likest.' At these words, those crows that had been assembled there laughed aloud, saying, 'How will the swan with only one kind of flight get the better of a hundred different kinds of flight?' "'"Then those two, viz., the swan and the crow, rose into the sky, challenging each other. Capable of going everywhere at will, the swan proceeded in one kind of motion, while the crow coursed in a hundred different kinds. And the swan flew and the crow also flew, causing each other to wonder (at his skill) and each speaking highly of his own achievements. Beholding the diverse kinds of flight at successive instants of time, the crows that were there were filled with great joy and began to caw more loudly. The swans also laughed in mockery, uttering many remarks disagreeable (to the crows). And they began to soar and alight repeatedly, here and there. And they began to come down and rise up from tree-tops and the surface of the earth. And they uttered diverse cries indicative of their victory. The swan, however, with that one kind of slow motion (with which he was familiar) began to traverse the skies. For a moment, therefore, O sire, he seemed to yield to the crow. The crows, at this, disregarding the swans, said these words: 'That swan amongst you which has soared into the sky, is evidently yielding'. Hearing these words, the (soaring) swan flew westwards with great velocity to the ocean, that abode of Makaras. Then fear entered the heart of the crow who became almost senseless at not seeing any island or trees whereon to perch when tired. And the crow thought within his heart as to where he should alight when tired, upon that vast expanse of water. The ocean, being as it is the abode of countless creatures, is irresistible. Dwelt in by hundreds of monsters, it is grander than space. Nothing can exceed it in depth, O Suta's son. Men know, O Karna, that the waters of the ocean are as limitless as space. For the extent of its waters, O Karna, what is a crow to it? The swan, having traversed a great distance in a moment, looked back at the crow, and (though capable) could not leave him behind. Having transgressed the crow, the swan cast his eyes on him and waited, thinking, 'Let the crow come up.' The crow then, exceedingly tired, came up to the swan. Beholding him succumbing, and about to sink, and desirous of rescuing him in remembrance of the practices of good folks, the swan addressed him in these words, 'Thou hadst repeatedly spoken of many kinds of flight while speaking on the subject. Thou wouldst not speak of this (thy present motion) because of its having been a mystery to us? What is the name of this kind of flight, O crow, that thou hast now adopted? Thou touchest the waters with thy wings and beak repeatedly. Which amongst those diverse kinds of flight is this, O crow, that thou art now practising? Come, come, quickly, O crow, for I am waiting for thee.'"'" "'Shalya continued, "Exceedingly afflicted, and touching the water with his wings and beak, O thou of wicked soul, the crow, beheld in that state by the swan, addressed the latter. Indeed, not seeing the limit of that watery expanse and sinking down in fatigue, and exhausted with the effort of his flight the crow said unto the swan, 'We are crows, we wander hither and thither, crying caw, caw. O swan, I seek thy protection, placing my life-breaths at thy hands. Oh, take me to the shores of the ocean with the wings and beak.' The crow, very much fatigued, suddenly fell down. Beholding him fallen upon the waters of the ocean with a melancholy heart, the swan, addressing the crow who was on the point of death, said these words, 'Remember, O crow, what thou hadst said in praise of thyself. The words even were that thou wouldst course through the sky in a hundred and one different kinds of flight. Thou, therefore that wouldst fly a hundred different kinds of flight, thou that art superior to me, alas, why then art thou tired and fallen down on the ocean?' Overcome with weakness, the crow then, casting his eyes upwards at the swan, and seeking to gratify him, replied, saying, 'Proud of the remains of others' dishes upon which I fed, I had, O swan, regarded myself as the equal of Garuda and disregarded all crows and many other birds. I now, however, seek thy protection and place my life-breaths at thy hands. Oh, take me to the shores of some island. If, O swan, I can, O lord, return in safety to my own country, I will never again disregard anybody. Oh rescue me now from this calamity.' Him that said so and was so melancholy and weeping and deprived of senses, him that was sinking in the ocean, uttering cries 'caw, caw,' him so drenched by the water and so disgusting to look at and trembling with fear, the swan, without a word, took up with his feet, and slowly caused him to ride on his back. Having caused the crow whose senses had deserted him to ride upon his back, the swan quickly returned to that island whence they had both flown, challenging each other. Placing down that ranger of the sky on dry land and comforting him, the swan, fleet as the mind, proceeded to the region he desired. Thus was that crow, fed on the remains of others' dinners, vanquished by the swan. The crow, then, casting off the pride of might and energy, adopted a life of peace and quiet. Indeed, even, as that crow, fed upon the remains of the dinners of the Vaishya children, disregarded his equals and superiors, so dost thou, O Karna, that art fed by the sons of Dhritarashtra upon the remains of their dishes, disregard all thy equals and superiors. Why didst thou not slay Partha at Virata's city when thou hadst the advantage of being protected by Drona and Drona's son and Kripa and Bhishma and the other Kauravas? There where, like a pack of jackals defeated by a lion, ye all were defeated with great slaughter by the diadem-decked Arjuna, what became of your prowess? Beholding also thy brother slain by Savyasaci, in the very sight of the Kuru heroes, it was thou that didst fly away first. By the skirts also of the dvaitya lake, O Karna, when thou wert assailed by the Gandharvas, it was thou that, deserting all the Kurus, didst first run away. Having vanquished in battle the Gandharvas headed by Citrasena, with great slaughter, it was Partha, O Karna, that liberated Duryodhana with his wife. Rama himself, O Karna, before the kings in the (Kuru) assembly spake of the great prowess of both Partha and Keshava. Thou didst frequently hear the words of Drona and Bhishma, speaking in the presence of all the kings, that the two Krishnas are unslayable. I have told thee a little only regarding those matters in which Dhananjaya is superior to thee like the Brahmana who is superior to all created beings. Soon wilt thou see, stationed on that foremost of cars, the son of Vasudeva and the son of Kunti and Pandu. As the crow (in the story), acting with intelligence, had sought the protection of the swan, so do thou seek the protection of him of Vrishni's race, and of Pandu's son Dhananjaya. When thou shalt in battle behold Vasudeva and Dhananjaya, those two endued with great prowess, stationed together on the same car, thou shalt not then, O Karna, utter such speeches. When Partha will, with hundreds of arrows, quell thy pride, then wilt thou behold the difference between thyself and Dhananjaya. Those two best of persons are celebrated among the gods, the Asuras and human beings. Thou that art a firefly, do not, from folly, think disrespectfully of those two resplendent luminaries. Like the Sun and moon, Keshava and Arjuna are celebrated for their resplendence. Thou, however, art like a fire-fly among men. O learned one, O son of a Suta, do not think disrespectfully of Acyuta and Arjuna. Those two high-souled persons are lions among men. Forbear indulging in such boasts."'" 42 "Sanjaya said, 'The high-souled son of Adhiratha, having listened unconvinced to these words of the ruler of the Madras, addressed Shalya, saying, "That which Vasudeva and Arjuna are is well-known to me. The skill of Saurin in the management of cars, and the might and the high weapons of Arjuna, the son of Pandu are well known to me at this hour. Thou however, O Shalya, hast no ocular proof of those matters. I shall fearlessly fight with the two Krishnas, those two foremost of all wielders of weapons. The curse, however, of Rama that best of regenerate persons, paineth me greatly today. I dwelt, in the disguise of a Brahmana, with Rama in former days, desirous of obtaining celestial weapons from him. On that occasion, O Shalya, the chief of the gods, wishing to benefit Phalguna, caused an obstacle, by approaching my thigh and piercing it, having assumed the dire form of a worm. When my preceptor slept, having laid his head thereon, that worm, approaching my thigh, began to pierce it through. In consequence of the piercing of my thigh, a pool of thick blood flowed from my body. For fear of (disturbing the slumber of) my preceptor I did not move my limb. Awaking, the Brahmana, however, beheld what had taken place. Witnessing my patience he addressed me, saying, 'Thou art never a Brahmana. Tell me truly who thou art.' I then, O Shalya, truly informed him of myself, saying that I was a Suta. Hearing my words, the great ascetic, his heart filled with rage, cursed me, saying, 'In consequence of the deception, O Suta, by which thou hast obtained this weapon, it will never, at the time of need, when the hour of thy death comes, occur to thy memory. Brahma cannot certainly reside in one that is not a Brahmana.' I have forgotten that great weapon in this fierce and terrible battle. He amongst the Bharatas, O Shalya, who is accomplished, who is an effectual smiter, who is universal destroyer, and who is exceedingly terrible, (viz., Arjuna),--that mighty crusher,--I think, will burn many foremost of Kshatriyas. Know, however, O Shalya, that I will slay in battle that fierce bowman, that foremost of warriors, that hero endued with activity, that terrible person whose energy is unbearable, that warrior whose promises are accomplished, that son of Pandu, viz., Dhananjaya. I have that weapon (at least) under my control today with which I will be able to destroy large numbers of foes. I will slay in battle that scorcher of enemies, that mighty warrior accomplished in weapons, that fierce bowman of immeasurable energy, that cruel and terrible hero, that great resister of enemies, viz., Dhananjaya. The immeasurable Ocean, that lord of all waters, rusheth with fierce impetuosity for overwhelming innumerable creatures. The continent, however, holds and checks him. Today, in this world, I will resist in fight the son of Kunti, that foremost of all drawers of the bow-string, while he will be engaged in ceaselessly shooting his countless shafts equipped with goodly wings, destructive of heroes, capable of penetrating into every limb and none of which becomes futile. Like the continent resisting the Ocean, I will today resist that mightiest of the mighty, that great warrior possessing the highest weapons, that hero like unto the Ocean's self of far-reaching arrows, fierce, and having shafts for his waves, while he will be engaged in overwhelming (hostile) kings. Behold today the fierce battle I fight with him that hath no equal, I think, among men wielding the bow, and that would vanquish the very gods united with the Asuras. Exceedingly proud is that son of Pandu. Desirous of battle he will approach me with his mighty and super-human weapons. Baffling his weapons with my own weapons in battle, I shall today overthrow that Partha with my own excellent shafts. Scorching his foes like the Sun endued with fiery rays, and blazing with flame like that dispeller of the darkness, I shall, like a mass of clouds, completely shroud Dhananjaya today with my shafts. Like the clouds extinguishing a blazing fire of great energy and smoke-mixed flames, that seems ready to consume the whole Earth, I shall, with my showers of arrows, extinguish the son of Kunti in battle. With my broad-headed shafts I shall still the son of Kunti, that terrible snake of virulent poison, that is exceedingly difficult of being captured, that is endued with keen fangs, that is even like a blazing fire that flames up in wrath, and that always consumes his foes. Like Himavat bearing the mighty, all-crushing, fierce and smiting god of wind, I shall, without moving, bear the angry and vindictive Dhananjaya. I shall resist in battle Dhananjaya, that foremost of all wielders of bows in the world, that hero in fight, that warrior who is always in the van and who is competent to meet all foes, that car-warrior who is conversant with all car-tracks. Today I shall fight in battle with that person who hath, I think, no equal among men wielding the bow and who conquered the entire Earth. What other man desirous of saving his life, except myself, will fight with that Savyasaci, who vanquished all creatures including the very gods in the country called Khandava? Arjuna is proud; his weapons strike deep; he is endued with great lightness of hands; he is conversant with steeds; he agitates vast hosts; he is regarded an Atiratha. Though such, I shall yet, with my sharp shafts, strike his head from off his trunk today. O Shalya, ever keeping Death or victory in battle before me, I shall today fight with Dhananjaya. There is none else save myself that would on a single car fight with that Pandava who resembles the destroyer himself. I myself will gladly speak of the prowess of Phalguna in the midst of an assembly of Kshatriyas. Why however, dost thou, a fool as thou art and of foolish understanding, speak to me of Phalguna's prowess? Thou art a doer of disagreeable deeds. Thou art cruel and mean and being thyself unforgiving, thou art a detractor of one that is forgiving. I can slay a hundred persons like thee, but I forgive thee in consequence of my forgiving disposition, owing to the exigency of the times. Thou art of sinful deeds. Like a fool thou hast, for the sake of Pandu's son, rebuked me and told me many disagreeable things. Crooked-hearted as thou art, thou hast said all these words unto me, that am of a sincere heart. Cursed art thou for thou art an injurer of friends,--of friends, because friendship is seven-paced. Terrible is the hour that is now passing. Duryodhana hath himself come to battle. I am solicitous of seeing his purposes achieved. Thou, however, art acting in such a way that it shows thee to have no friendship (for the Kuru king)! He is a friend who shows affection for another, who gladdens another, who makes himself agreeable to another, who protects another, who honours another, and who rejoices in the joys of another. I tell thee that I have all those attributes, and the king himself knows all this. He, on the other hand, that destroys, chastises, sharpens his weapons, injures, causes us to sigh, makes us cheerless, and wrongs us in diverse ways, is a foe. All these attributes are to be found in thee and thou discoverest all of them in me. For the sake of Duryodhana, for the sake of doing what is agreeable to thee, for the sake of victory, for the sake of myself, and for the sake of God himself, I will with vigorous exertion, fight with Partha and Vasudeva. Witness today my feats. Behold today my excellent weapons, my brahmastra and other celestial weapons, as also those that are human. I will today slay that hero of fierce prowess, like an exceedingly infuriate elephant slaying an infuriate compeer. I shall, by my mind alone, hurl today at Partha, for my victory, that weapon of immeasurable energy, called the brahmastra. Arjuna will never be able to escape that weapon, if only the wheels of my car do not sink into the Earth in battle today. Know this, O Shalya, that I would not take fright at Yama himself armed with his rod, or Varuna himself armed with his noose, or Kuvera himself armed with his mace, or Vasava himself armed with the thunderbolt, or at any other foe whatever that may approach for slaying me. Therefore, I have no fear from Partha, nor from Janardana. On the other hand, I shall encounter them both in today's destructive battle. Once on a time, while wandering for the sake of practising weapons on my bow called Vijaya, O king, I had, by shooting many fierce shafts of terrible forms, heedlessly struck the calf of a (Brahmana's) homa cow with one of those shafts, and unwillingly killed it while it was wandering in a solitary forest. The Brahmana then addressed me, saying, 'Since, becoming insensate, thou hast slain the offspring of my homa cow, the wheel (of thy car) will sink into the Earth while at the time of battle fear will enter thy heart.' From these words of the Brahmana I am experiencing great fear. These kings of the Lunar race that are lords of (other people's) weal and woe, offered to give that Brahmana a 1,000 kine and 600 bovine bulls. With even such a gift, O Shalya, the Brahmana would not be gratified, O ruler of the Madras. I was then for giving him seven hundred elephants of large tusks and many hundred of slaves male and female. That foremost of Brahmana would not still be gratified. Collecting next full 14,000 kine, each black in hue and having a white calf I was still unable to obtain the grace of that best of Brahmana. A wealthy mansion full of every object of desire, in fact, whatever wealth I had, I wished to give him with due worship, but he refused to accept the gift. Unto me then that had offended and that had begged so importunately for his pardon, the Brahmana said, 'That which, O Suta, hath been uttered by me is sure to happen. It cannot be otherwise. A false speech would destroy creatures, and sin also would be mine. Therefore, for the preservation of virtue I do not venture to speak what is false. Do not, again, destroy the means of a Brahmana's support. There is none in the world that would be able to falsify my speech. Accept those words. It will be thy atonement (for the sin of having slain a calf).' Though rebuked by thee, still for friendship's sake, I have disclosed to thee all this. I know thee that art rebuking me thus. Be silent now, and hear what I will presently say."'" 43 "Sanjaya said, 'That chastiser of foes, viz., the son of Radha, thus silencing the ruler of the Madras, once more addressed him, O monarch, saying these words, "In answer to that which, O Shalya, thou hast said unto me by way of instance, I tell thee that I am incapable of being frightened by thee in battle with thy words. If all the gods themselves with Vasava would fight with me, I would not still feel any fear, what need be said then of my fears from Pritha and Keshava? I am incapable of being frightened by means of words alone. He, O Shalya, whom thou wouldst be able to frighten in battle is some other person (and not myself)! Thou hast spoken many bitter words to me. Therein lieth the strength of a person that is low. Incapable of speaking of my merits, thou sayst many bitter things, O thou of wicked heart; Karna was never born, O Madraka, for fear in battle. On the other hand, I was born for displaying valour as also for achieving glory for my own self. For the sake of my friendship for thee, for my affection, and for thy being an ally,--for these three reasons thou still livest, O Shalya. Important is the task that has now to be done for king Dhritarashtra. That task, O Shalya, depends on me. For this, thou livest a moment. Before this, I made a compact with thee that any disagreeable speeches thou mightest utter would be pardoned by me. That compact should be observed. It is for this that thou livest, O Madraka. Without a 1,000 Salyas I would vanquish my foes. He that injureth a friend is sinful. It is for this that thou livest for the present."'" 44 "'Shalya said, "These, O Karna, are ravings that thou utterest regarding the foe. As regards myself without a 1,000 Karnas I am able to vanquish the foe in battle."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Unto the ruler of Madras, of harsh features, who was saying such disagreeable things unto Karna, the latter once more said words that were twice bitter. "'Karna said, "Listen with devoted attention to this, O ruler of the Madras, that was heard by me while it was recited in the presence of Dhritarashtra. In Dhritarashtra's abode the Brahmanas used to narrate the accounts of diverse delightful regions and many kings of ancient times. A foremost one among Brahmanas, venerable in years while reciting old histories, said these words, blaming the Vahikas and Madrakas, 'One should always avoid the Vahikas, those impure people that are out of the pale of virtue, and that live away from the Himavat and the Ganga and Sarasvati and Yamuna and Kurukshetra and the Sindhu and its five tributary rivers. I remember from the days of my youth that a slaughter-ground for kine and a space for storing intoxicating spirits always distinguish the entrances of the abodes of the (Vahika) kings. On some very secret mission I had to live among the Vahikas. In consequence of such residence the conduct of these people is well known to me. There is a town of the name of Sakala, a river of the name of Apaga, and a clan of the Vahikas known by the name of the Jarttikas. The practices of these people are very censurable. They drink the liquor called Gauda, and eat fried barley with it. They also eat beef with garlic. They also eat cakes of flour mixed with meat, and boiled rice that is bought from others. Of righteous practices they have none. Their women, intoxicated with drink and divested of robes, laugh and dance outside the walls of the houses in cities, without garlands and unguents, singing while drunk obscene songs of diverse kinds that are as musical as the bray of the ass or the bleat of the camel. In intercourse they are absolutely without any restraint, and in all other matters they act as they like. Maddened with drink, they call upon one another, using many endearing epithets. Addressing many drunken exclamations to their husbands and lords, the fallen women among the Vahikas, without observing restrictions even on sacred days, give themselves up to dancing. One of those wicked Vahikas,--one that is, that lived amongst those arrogant women,--who happened to live for some days in Kurujangala, burst out with cheerless heart, saying, "Alas, that (Vahika) maiden of large proportions, dressed in thin blankets, is thinking of me,--her Vahika lover--that is now passing his days in Kurujangala, at the hour of her going to bed." Crossing the Sutlej and the delightful Iravati, and arriving at my own country, when shall I cast my eyes upon those beautiful women with thick frontal bones, with blazing circlets of red arsenic on their foreheads, with streaks of jet black collyrium on their eyes, and their beautiful forms attired in blankets and skins and themselves uttering shrill cries! When shall I be happy, in the company of those intoxicated ladies amid the music of drums and kettle-drums and conchs sweet as the cries of asses and camels and mules! When shall I be amongst those ladies eating cakes of flour and meat and balls of pounded barley mixed with skimmed milk, in the forests, having many pleasant paths of Sami and Pilu and Karira! When shall I, amid my own countrymen, mustering in strength on the high-roads, fall upon passengers, and snatching their robes and attires beat them repeatedly! What man is there that would willingly dwell, even for a moment amongst the Vahikas that are so fallen and wicked, and so depraved in their practises?' Even thus did that Brahmana describe the Vahikas of base behaviour, a sixth of whose merits and demerits is thine, O Shalya. Having said this, that pious Brahmana began once more to say what I am about to repeat respecting the wicked Vahikas. Listen to what I say, 'In the large and populous town of Sakala, a Rakshasa woman used to sing on every fourteenth day of the dark fortnight, in accompaniment with a drum, "When shall I next sing the songs of the Vahikas in this Sakala town, having gorged myself with beef and drunk the Gauda liquor? When shall I again, decked in ornaments, and with those maidens and ladies of large proportions, gorge upon a large number of sheep and large quantities of pork and beef and the meat of fowls and asses and camels? They who do not eat sheep live in vain!"' Even thus, O Shalya, the young and old, among the inhabitants of Sakala, intoxicated with spirits, sing and cry. How can virtue be met with among such a people? Thou shouldst know this. I must, however, speak again to thee about what another Brahmana had said unto us in the Kuru court, 'There where forests of Pilus stand, and those five rivers flow, viz., the Satadru, the Vipasa, the Iravati, the Candrabhaga, and the Vitasa and which have the Sindhu for their sixth, there in those regions removed from the Himavat, are the countries called by the name of the Arattas. Those regions are without virtue and religion. No one should go thither. The gods, the pitris, and the Brahmanas, never accept gifts from those that are fallen, or those that are begotten by Shudras on the girls of other castes, or the Vahikas who never perform sacrifices and are exceedingly irreligious.' That learned Brahmana had also said in the Kuru court, 'The Vahikas, without any feelings of revulsion, eat of wooden vessels having deep stomachs and earthen plates and vessels that have been licked by dogs and that are stained with pounded barley and other corn. The Vahikas drink the milk of sheep and camels and asses and eat curds and other preparations from those different kinds of milk. Those degraded people number many bastards among them. There is no food and no milk that they do not take. The Aratta-Vahikas that are steeped in ignorance, should be avoided.' Thou shouldst know this, O Shalya. I must, however, again speak to thee about what another Brahmana had said unto me in the Kuru court, 'How can one go to heaven, having drunk milk in the town called Yugandhara, and resided in the place called Acyutasthala, and bathed in the spot called Bhutilaya? There where the five rivers flow just after issuing from the mountains, there among the Aratta-Vahikas, no respectable person should dwell even for two days. There are two Pishacas named Vahi and Hika in the river Vipasa. The Vahikas are the offspring of those two Pishacas. They are not creatures created by the Creator. Being of such low origin, how can they be conversant with the duties ordained in the scriptures? The Karashakas, the Mahishakas, the Kalingas, the Keralas, the Karkotakas, the Virakas, and other peoples of no religion, one should always avoid.' Even thus did a Rakshasa woman of gigantic hips speak unto a Brahmana who on a certain occasion went to that country for bathing in a sacred water and passed a single night there. The regions are called by the name of Arattas. The people residing there are called the Vahikas. The lowest of Brahmanas also are residing there from very remote times. They are without the Veda and without knowledge, without sacrifice and without the power to assist at other's sacrifices. They are all fallen and many amongst them have been begotten by Shudras upon other peoples' girls. The gods never accept any gifts from them. The Prasthalas, the Madras, the Gandharas, the Arattas, those called Khasas, the Vasatis, the Sindhus and the Sauviras are almost as blamable in their practices."'" 45 "'Karna continued, "Thou shouldst know all this, O Shalya. I shall however, again speak unto thee. Listen with close attention to what I say. Once on a time a Brahmana came to our house as a guest. Observing our practices he became highly gratified and said unto us, 'I dwelt for a long time on a peak of the Himavat quite alone. Since then I have seen diverse countries following diverse religions. Never, however, have I seen all the people of a country act unrighteously. All the races I have met will admit that to be true religion which has been declared by persons conversant with the Vedas. Travelling through various countries following various religions, I at last, O king, came among the Vahikas. There I heard that one at first becomes a Brahmana and then he becomes a Kshatriya. Indeed, a Vahika would, after that, become a Vaishya, and then a Shudra, and then a barber. Having become a barber, he would then again become a Brahmana. Returning to the status of a Brahmana, he would again become a slave. One person in a family becomes a Brahmana: all the others, falling off from virtue, act as they like. The Gandharas, the Madrakas, and the Vahikas of little understanding are even such. Having travelled through the whole world I heard of these practices, destructive of virtue, of these sinful irregularities amongst the Vahikas.' Thou shouldst know all this, O Shalya. I shall, however, again speak to thee about those ugly words that another said unto me regarding the Vahikas. In former days a chaste woman was abducted by robbers (hailing) from Aratta. Sinfully was she violated by them, upon which she cursed them, saying, 'Since ye have sinfully violated a helpless girl who am not without a husband, therefore, the women of your families shall all become unchaste. Ye lowest of men, never shall ye escape from the consequences of this dreadful sin.' It is for this, O Shalya, that the sisters' sons of the Arattas, and not their own sons, become their heirs. The Kauravas with the Pancalas, the Salwas, the Matsyas, the Naimishas, the Koshalas, the Kasapaundras, the Kalingas, the Magadhas, and the Cedis who are all highly blessed, know what the eternal religion is. The wicked even of these various countries know what religion is. The Vahikas, however, live without righteousness. Beginning with the Matsyas, the residents of the Kuru and the Pancala countries, the Naimishas as well and the other respectable peoples, the pious among all races are conversant with the eternal truths of religion. This cannot be said of the Madrakas and the crooked-hearted race that resides in the country of the five rivers. Knowing all these things, O king, hold thy tongue, O Shalya, like one deprived of utterance, in all matters connected with religion and virtue. Thou art the protector and king of that people, and, therefore, the partaker of sixth part of their merits and demerits. Or perhaps, thou art the partaker of a sixth part of their demerits only, for thou never protectest them. A king that protects is a sharer in the merits of his subjects. Thou art not a sharer in their merits. In days of yore, when the eternal religion was reverenced in all countries, the Grandsire, observing the practices of the country of the five rivers, cried fie on them. When even in the Krita age, Brahman had censured the practices of those fallen people of evil deeds who were begotten by Shudras on others' wives, what would you now say to men in the world? Even thus did the Grandsire condemn the practices of the country of the five waters. When all people were observant of the duties of their respective orders, the Grandsire had to find fault with these men. Thou shouldst know all this, O Shalya. I shall, however, again speak to thee. A Rakshasa of the name of Kalmashapada, while plunging in a tank, said, 'Eleemosynation is a Kshatriya's dirt, while the non-observance of vows is a Brahmana's dirt. The Vahikas are the dirt of the Earth, and the Madra women are the dirt of the whole female sex.' While sinking in the stream, a king rescued the Rakshasa. Asked by the former, the latter gave this answer. I will recite it to you. Listen to me. 'The Mlecchas are the dirt of mankind: the oilmen are the dirt of the Mlecchas; eunuchs are the dirt of oilmen; they who avail of the priestly ministrations of Kshatriyas, in their sacrifices, are the dirt of eunuchs. The sin of those again that have the last-named persons for their priests, of also of the Madrakas, shall be thine if thou do not abandon me.' Even this was declared by the Rakshasa to be the formula that should be used for curing a person possessed by a Rakshasa or one killed by the energy of a poison. The words that follow are all very true. The Pancalas observe the duties enjoined in the Vedas; the Kauravas observe truth; the Matsyas and the Surasenas perform sacrifices, the Easterners follow the practices of the Shudras; the Southerners are fallen; the Vahikas are thieves; the Saurashtras are bastards. They that are defiled by ingratitude, theft, drunkenness, adultery with the wives of their preceptors, harshness of speech, slaughter of kine, lustful wanderings during the night out of home, and the wearing of other people's ornaments,--what sin is there that they do not incur? Fie on the Arattas and the people of the country of the five rivers! Commencing with the Pancalas, the Kauravas, the Naimishas, the Matsyas,--all these,--know what religion is. The old men among the Northerners, the Angas, the Magadhas, (without themselves knowing what virtue is) follow the practices of the pious. Many gods, headed by Agni, dwell in the East. The pitris dwell in the South that is presided over by Yama of righteous deeds. The West is protected by the mighty Varuna who overlooks the other gods there. The north is protected by the divine Soma along with the Brahmanas. So Rakshasas and Pishacas protect the Himavat, the best of mountains. The Guhyakas, O great king, protect the mountains of Gandhamadana. Without doubt, Vishnu, otherwise, called Janardana, protects all creatures. (For all that the Vahikas have no especial protectors among the gods). The Magadhas are comprehenders of signs; the Koshalas comprehend from what they see; the Kurus and the Pancalas comprehend from a half-uttered speech; the Salwas cannot comprehend till the whole speech is uttered. The Mountaineers, like the Sivis, are very stupid. The Yavanas, O king, are omniscient; the Suras are particularly so. The Mlecchas are wedded to the creations of their own fancy. Other peoples cannot understand. The Vahikas resent beneficial counsels; as regards the Madrakas there are none amongst those (mentioned above.) Thou, O Shalya, art so. Thou shouldst not reply to me. The Madrakas are regarded on Earth as the dirt of every nation. So the Madra woman is called the dirt of the whole female sex. They that have for their practices the drinking of spirits, the violation of the beds of their preceptors, the destruction of the embryo by procuring miscarriage, and the robbing of other people's wealth, there is no sin that they have not. Fie on the Arattas and the people of the country of the five rivers. Knowing this, be silent. Do not seek to oppose me. Do not let me slay Keshava and Arjuna, having slain thee first."'" "'Shalya said, "The abandonment of the afflicted and the sale of wives and children are, O Karna, prevalent amongst the Angas whose king thou art. Recollecting those faults of thine that Bhishma recited on the occasion of the tale of Rathas and Atirathas, drive away thy wrath. Do not be angry. Brahmanas may be found everywhere; Kshatriyas may be found everywhere; so also Vaishyas and Shudras, O Karna, women of chastity and excellent vows may also be found everywhere. Everywhere men take delight in jesting with men and wounding one another. Lustful men also may be found everywhere. Everyone on every occasion can command skill in speaking of the faults of others. No one, however, knows his own faults, or knowing them, feels shame. Everywhere are kings devoted to their respective religions, and employed in chastising the wicked. Everywhere may be found virtuous men. It cannot be, O Karna, that all the people of a country are sinful. There are men in many countries that surpass the very gods by their behaviour."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Then king Duryodhana stopped Karna and Shalya (from going on with their wordy warfare), addressing the son of Radha as a friend, and beseeching Shalya with joined hands, Karna, O sire, was quieted by thy son and forbore saying anything more. Shalya also then faced the enemy. Then Radha's son, smiling, once more urged Shalya, saying, "Proceed."'" 46 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding then that unrivalled array of the Parthas made by Dhrishtadyumna which was capable of resisting all hostile armies, Karna proceeded, uttering leonine shouts and causing his car to produce a loud rattle. And he made the Earth to tremble with the loud din of musical instruments. And that chastiser of foes, that hero in battle, seemed to tremble in rage. Duly disposing his own troops in counter-array, O bull of Bharata's race, that hero of great energy made a great slaughter of the Pandava forces like Maghavat slaughtering the Asura host. Striking Yudhishthira then with many arrows, he placed the eldest son of Pandu to his right.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'How, O Sanjaya, did the son of Radha dispose his forces in counter array to all the Pandavas headed by Dhristadyumna and protected by Bhimasena, viz., all those great bowmen invincible by the very gods? Who, O Sanjaya, stood in the wings and the further wings of our army? Dividing themselves properly, how were the warriors stationed? How also did the sons of Pandu dispose their army in counter-array to mine? How also did that great and awful battle commence? Where was Vibhatsu when Karna proceeded against Yudhishthira? Who could succeed in assailing Yudhishthira in the presence of Arjuna? That Arjuna who had vanquished, single-handed in former days, all creatures at Khandava, who else that is desirous of life, save the son of Radha, would fight with him?' "Sanjaya said, 'Hear now of the formation of the arrays, the manner in which Arjuna came and how the battle was fought by both sides surrounding their respective kings. Sharadvata's son Kripa, O king, and the Magadhas endued with great activity, and Kritavarma of Satwata race, took up their position in the right wing. Shakuni, and the mighty car-warrior Uluka, standing on the right of these, and accompanied by many fearless Gandhara horsemen armed with bright lances, and many mountaineers difficult to defeat, numerous as flights of locusts, and grim looking as Pishacas, protected the (Kaurava) army. 34,000 unreturning cars of the samsaptakas, mad with desire of battle, with thy sons in their midst, and all desirous of slaying Krishna and Arjuna, protected the left side (of the Kaurava army). On their left, the Kambojas, the Sakas, and the Yavanas, with cars and horse and foot, at the command of the Suta's son, stood, challenging Arjuna and the mighty Keshava. In the centre, at the head of that host, stood Karna, clad in armour with beautiful coat of mail and adorned with Angadas and garlands, for protecting that point. Supported by his own angry sons, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, that hero, shone resplendent at the head of the army as he drew his bow repeatedly. The mighty-armed Duhshasana, possessed of the effulgence of the sun or fire with tawny eyes and handsome features, riding on the neck of a huge elephant, surrounded by many troops, and stationed at the rear of the army gradually approached for fight. Behind him came Duryodhana himself, O monarch, protected by his uterine brothers riding on beautiful steeds and cased in beautiful mail. Protected by the united Madrakas and the Kekayas of exceeding energy, the king, O monarch, looked resplendent like Indra of a hundred sacrifices when surrounded by the celestials. Ashvatthama and the other foremost of mighty car-warriors, and many ever-infuriate elephants shedding temporal secretions like the very clouds and ridden by brave Mlecchas, followed behind that car-force. Decked with triumphal standards and blazing weapons, those huge creatures, ridden by warriors skilled in fighting from their backs, looked beautiful like hills overgrown with trees. Many thousands of brave and unreturning warriors, armed with axes and swords, became the footguards of those elephants. Gorgeously decked with horsemen and car-warriors and elephants, that foremost of arrays looked exceedingly beautiful like the array of the celestials or of the Asuras. That great array, formed according to the scheme of Brihaspati by its commander, well-versed in ways of battle, seemed to dance (as it advanced) and struck terror into the hearts of foes. Like ever-appearing clouds in the season of rains, foot-soldiers and horsemen and car-warriors and elephants, longing for battle began to issue from the wings and further wings of that array. Then king Yudhishthira, beholding Karna at the head of the (hostile) army, addressed Dhananjaya, that slayer of foes, that one hero in the world, and said these words, "Behold, O Arjuna, the mighty array formed by Karna in battle. The hostile force looks resplendent with its wings and further wings. At sight of this vast hostile force, let such measures be adopted that it may not vanquish us." Thus addressed by the king, Arjuna replied with joined hands, "Everything will be done as thou sayest. Nothing will be otherwise. I will, O Bharata, do that by which the destruction of the enemy may be compassed. By slaying their foremost of warriors, I will achieve their destruction." "'Yudhishthira said, "With that view, do thou proceed against the son of Radha, and let Bhimasena proceed against Suyodhana, Nakula against Virshasena, Sahadeva against the son of Subala, Satanika against Duhshasana, that bull amongst the Sinis, viz., Satyaki, against the son of Hridika, and Pandya against the son of Drona. I myself will fight with Kripa. Let the sons of Draupadi with Shikhandi amongst them, proceed against the rest of the Dhartarashtras. Let the other warriors of our army encounter our other foes."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed by Yudhishthira the just, Dhananjaya saying, "So be it," ordered his troops (to do the needful) and himself proceeded to the head of the army. That car for which the Leader of the universe, viz., Agni, who derives his effulgence from Brahman, became the steeds, that car which was known amongst the gods as belonging to Brahman because it sprang first from Brahman himself, that car which in days of old had successively borne Brahman and Ishana and Indra and Varuna one after another, riding on that primeval car, Keshava and Arjuna now proceeded to battle. Beholding that advancing car of wonderful aspect, Shalya once more said unto Adhiratha's son, that warrior of great energy in battle, these words "Yonder comes that car having white steeds yoked unto it and owning Krishna for its driver, that vehicle incapable of being resisted by all the troops, like the inevitable fruit of work. There comes the son of Kunti, slaughtering his foes along the way,--he, that is, about whom thou hadst been enquiring. Since tremendous is the uproar that is being heard, deep as the roar of the clouds, it is, without doubt, those high-souled ones, viz., Vasudeva and Dhananjaya. Yonder ascends a cloud of dust that overspreads the welkin like a canopy. The whole Earth, O Karna, seems to tremble, cut deep by the circumference of Arjuna's wheels. These violent winds are blowing on both sides of thy army. These carnivorous creatures are yelling aloud and these animals are uttering fearful cries. Behold, O Karna, the terrible and portentous Ketu of vapoury form, making the hair to stand on end, hath appeared, covering the Sun. Behold, diverse kinds of animals, all around in large packs, and many mighty wolves and tigers are looking at the Sun. Behold those terrible Kankas and those vultures, assembled together in thousands, sitting with faces towards one another, in seeming discourse. Those coloured yak-tails attached to thy great car are waving unquietly. Thy standard also is trembling. Behold these thy beautiful steeds, of huge limbs and great speed resembling that of soaring birds, are also quivering. From these portents, it is certain that kings, in hundreds and thousands, O Karna, deprived of life, will lie down on the ground for eternal sleep. The loud uproar of conchs, making the hair to stand on end, is being heard. The sound also of drums and cymbals, O son of Radha, is being heard on all sides, as also the whizz of diverse kinds of arrows, and the din made by cars and steeds and men. Listen also, O Karna, to the loud twang produced by the bow-strings of high-souled warriors. Behold, O Karna, those banners of Arjuna, that are equipped with rows of bells, and decked with golden moons and stars. Made by skilful artists out of cloths embroidered with gold and of diverse hues, they are blazing with resplendence on Arjuna's car as they are shaken by the wind, like flashes of lightning in a mass of clouds. Behold those (other) banners producing sharp sounds as they wave in the air. Those car-warriors of the high-souled Pancalas, with flag-decked standards on their vehicles, are looking resplendent, O Karna, like the very gods on their celestial cars. Behold the heroic son of Kunti, the unvanquished Vibhatsu (Arjuna) with that foremost of apes on his standard, advancing for the destruction of the foe. There, on the top of Partha's standard, is to be seen that terrible ape, that enhancer of the fears of foes, attracting the gaze (of warriors) from every side. The discus, the mace, the bow called Saranga and the conch (called Panchajanya) of the intelligent Krishna, as also his gem Kaustubha, look exceedingly beautiful in him. The wielder of Saranga and the mace, viz., Vasudeva, of great energy, cometh, urging those white steeds endued with the fleetness of the wind. Yonder twangs Gandiva, drawn by Savyasaci. Those whetted shafts, sped by that strong-armed hero, are destroying his enemies. The Earth is strewn with the heads of unretreating kings, with faces beautiful as the moon at full, and decked with large and expansive eyes of coppery hue. There the arms, looking like spiked maces, with weapons in grasp, and smeared with excellent perfumes, of warriors delighting in battle and contending with uplifted weapons, are falling. Steeds with eyes, tongues, and entrails drawn out along with their riders, are falling and fallen and deprived of life lie prostrate on the Earth. Those lifeless elephants huge as mountain summits, torn, mangled, and pierced by Partha, are falling down like veritable hills. Those cars, looking like the changeful forms of vapour in the sky, with their royal riders slain, are falling down like the celestial cars of the denizens of heaven upon the exhaustion of the latter's merits. Behold, the army is exceedingly agitated by the diadem-decked Arjuna, like herds of countless cattle by a maned lion. There the Pandava heroes, advancing for the attack, are slaying kings and large numbers of elephants and steeds and car-warriors and foot-soldiers of thy army engaged in battle. There Partha, shrouded (by friends and foes and weapons and dust) is not to be seen, like the Sun shrouded by clouds. Only the top of his standard may be seen and the twang of his bow-string may be heard. Thou art sure, O Karna, to behold today that hero of white steed with Krishna for his driver, engaged in slaughtering his foes in battle. Thou art sure of beholding him about whom thou hadst been enquiring. Today, O Karna, thou art sure to behold those two tigers among men, both of red eyes, both chastisers of foes, viz., Vasudeva and Arjuna, stationed on the same car. If, O son of Radha, thou succeedest in slaying him that hath Keshava for his driver and Gandiva for his bow, then thou shalt be our king. Challenged by the samsaptakas, Partha now proceedeth against them. That mighty warrior is engaged in making a great slaughter of his foes in battle." Unto the ruler of the Madras who was saying so, Karna, in rage, said, "Behold, Partha is assailed on all sides by the angry samsaptakas. Like the Sun shrouded by the clouds, Partha is no longer visible. Plunged, into that ocean of warriors, O Shalya, Arjuna is sure to perish." "'Shalya said, "Who is there that would slay Varuna with water, or quench fire with fuel? Who is there that would seize the wind, or drink off the ocean? I regard thy act of afflicting Partha to be even such. Arjuna is incapable of being vanquished in battle by the very gods and the Asuras united together and having Indra himself at their head. Or, suffer thyself to be gratified, and be of easy mind, having said those words (about thy capacity to slay Partha) Partha cannot be conquered in battle. Accomplish some other purpose thou mayst have in thy mind. He that would uplift this Earth on his two arms, or burn all creatures in wrath, or hurl the gods from heaven, may vanquish Arjuna in battle. Behold that other heroic son of Kunti, viz., Bhima, who is never fatigued with exertion, blazing with resplendence, mighty-armed, and standing like another Meru. With wrath ever kindled and longing for revenge, Bhima of great energy stands there desirous of victory in battle, and remembering all his injuries. There that foremost of virtuous men, viz., king Yudhishthira the just, that subjugator of hostile towns, stands difficult of being resisted by foes in battle. There stand those two tigers among men, the twin Ashvinis, the two uterine brothers Nakula and Sahadeva, both invincible in battle. Yonder may be seen the five sons of Krishna, that have the features of Pancala princes. All of them, equal to Arjuna in battle, are standing, desirous of fight. There the sons of Drupada, headed by Dhristadyumna, swelling with pride and energy,--heroes endued with great energy,--have taken up their stand. There, that foremost one among the Satwatas, viz., Satyaki, irresistible like Indra, advanceth against us, from desire of fight, like the destroyer himself in wrath before our eyes." While those two lions among men were thus addressing each other, the two armies mingled fiercely in battle, like the currents of the Ganga and Yamuna.'" 47 "Dhritarashtra said, 'When the two armies, duly arrayed, thus mingled with each other for battle, O Sanjaya, how did Partha assail the samsaptakas, and how Karna assail the Pandavas? Tell me the incidents of the battle in detail, for thou art skilled in narration. Listening to the accounts of the prowess of heroes in battle, I am never satiated.' "Sanjaya said, 'Observing the vast hostile force stationed in that manner, Arjuna arrayed his troops in proper form, in consequence of the evil policy of thy son. The vast Pandava force then, teeming with horsemen and elephants and foot-soldiers and cars, and headed by Dhrishtadyumna, looked exceedingly magnificent. With his steeds white as pigeons, the son of Prishata, equal in splendour to the Sun or the Moon, armed with bow, looked resplendent like Death himself in embodied form. The sons of Draupadi, desirous of battle, stood by the side of the son of Prishata. They were clad in excellent coats of mail, and armed with excellent weapons, and all of them were endued with the prowess of tigers. Possessed of effulgent bodies, they followed their maternal uncle like the stars appearing with the Moon. Beholding the samsaptakas standing in array, Arjuna, with wrath excited, rushed against them, drawing his bow Gandiva. The samsaptakas then, desirous of slaying Arjuna, rushed against Partha, firmly resolved on victory, and making death their goal. That brave host of heroes, teeming with men, steeds, infuriate elephants, and cars, began very quickly to afflict Arjuna. Their encounter with Kiritin (Arjuna) became exceedingly furious. That encounter resembled the one that took place between Arjuna and the Nivatakavachas, as we have heard. Partha cut off cars and steeds and standards and elephants and foot-soldiers engaged in fight, with shafts and bows and swords and discs and battle axes, and uplifted arms with weapons in grasp, and the heads also of foes, by thousands upon thousands. The samsaptakas, regarding the car of Partha sunk in that deep vortex of warriors, uttered loud roars. Partha, however, slaying all his foes in front, slew those that stood further off, and then those that were on his right and his back, like Rudra himself in rage slaughtering all created things endued with life. The encounter that took place when the Pancalas, the Cedis, and the Srinjayas faced thy troops was exceedingly fierce. Kripa and Kritavarma, and Shakuni the son of Subala, those heroes difficult of defeat in battle, accompanied by troops that were all cheerful, themselves filled with rage, and capable of smiting down thick ranks of cars, fought with the Koshalas, the Kasis, the Matsyas, the Karusas, the Kaikayas, and the Surasenas, all of whom were possessed of great courage. That battle fraught with great slaughter and destructive of body, life and sins, became conducive to fame, heaven, and virtue, in respect of the Kshatriya, the Vaishya, and the Shudra heroes that were engaged in it. Meanwhile the Kuru king Duryodhana with his brothers, O bull of Bharata's race, and supported by many Kuru heroes and many mighty Madraka car-warriors, protected Karna while the latter was engaged in battle with the Pandavas, the Pancalas, the Cedis, and Satyaki. Destroying that vast division with his sharp arrows, and crushing many foremost of car-warriors Karna succeeded in afflicting Yudhishthira. Cutting off the armour, the weapons, and the bodies of thousands of foes and slaying his foes by thousands and sending them to heaven and making them earn great fame, Karna caused his friends great joy. Thus, O sire, that battle destructive of men, steeds, and cars, between the Kurus and the Srinjayas, resembled the battle between the gods and the Asuras of old.'" 48 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Tell me, O Sanjaya, how Karna, having caused a great slaughter penetrated into the midst of the Pandava troops, and struck and afflicted king Yudhishthira. Who were those foremost of heroes among the Parthas that resisted Karna? Who were they whom Karna crushed before he could succeed in afflicting Yudhishthira?' "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the Parthas headed by Dhrishtadyumna stationed for battle, that crusher of foes, viz., Karna, rushed impetuously against the Pancalas. Like swans rushing towards the sea, the Pancalas, longing for victory, rushed as quickly against that high-souled warrior advancing to the encounter. Then the blare of thousands of conchs, as if piercing the heart by its shrillness, arose from both hosts, and the fierce peal also of thousands of drums. The sound also of diverse musical instruments and the noise made by elephants and steeds and cars, and the leonine shouts of heroes, that arose there, became exceedingly awful. It seemed that the whole Earth with her mountains and trees and oceans, the entire welkin covered with wind-tossed clouds, and the whole firmament with the Sun, the Moon, and the stars, trembled with that sound. All creatures regarded that noise to be even such and became agitated. Those amongst them that were endued with little strength fell dead. Then Karna, excited with great wrath, quickly invoking his weapons, began to smite the Pandava army like Maghavat smiting the army of the Asuras. Penetrating then into the Pandava host and shooting his arrows, Karna slew seven and seventy foremost of warriors among the Prabhadrakas. Then that foremost of car-warriors, with five and twenty sharp shafts equipped with goodly wings, slew five and twenty Pancalas. With many cloth-yard shafts equipped with wings of gold and capable of piercing the bodies of all foes, that hero slew the Cedis by hundreds and thousands. While he was employed in achieving those superhuman feats in battle, large throngs of Pancala cars, O king, quickly surrounded him on all sides. Aiming then, O Bharata, five irresistible shafts, Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana or Vrisha, slew five Pancala warriors. The five Pancalas, O Bharata, that he slew in that battle were Bhanudeva and Citrasena and Senavindu and Tapana and Surasena. While the Pancala heroes were thus being slaughtered with arrows in that great battle, loud cries of "Oh" and "Alas" arose from among the Pancala host. Then ten car-warriors among the Pancalas, O monarch, surrounded Karna. Them, too, Karna speedily slew with his shafts. The two protectors of Karna's car wheels, viz., his two invincible sons, O sire, that were named Sushena and Satyasena, began to fight, reckless of their very lives. The eldest son of Karna, viz., the mighty car-warrior Vrishasena, himself protected his father's rear. Then Dhrishtadyumna, Satyaki, and the five sons of Draupadi, and Vrikodara, Janamejaya, and Shikhandi, and many foremost warriors among the Prabhadrakas, and many amongst the Cedis, the Kaikayas, and the Pancalas, the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva), and the Matsyas, all clad in mail, rushed fiercely upon Radha's son, skilled in smiting, from desire of slaying him. Pouring upon him diverse kinds of weapons and thick showers of arrows, they began to afflict him like the clouds afflicting the mountain breast in the season of rains. Desirous of rescuing their father, the sons of Karna, all of whom were effectual smiters, and many other heroes, O king, of thy army, resisted those (Pandava) heroes. Sushena, cutting off with a broad-headed arrow the bow of Bhimasena, pierced Bhima himself with seven cloth-yard shafts in the chest, and uttered a loud roar. Then Vrikodara of terrible prowess, taking up another tough bow and stringing it quickly, cut off Sushena's bow. Excited with rage and as if dancing (on his car), he quickly pierced Sushena himself with ten arrows, and then pierced Karna, within the twinkling of an eye, with seventy sharp shafts. With ten other shafts, Bhima then felled Bhanusena, another son of Karna, with his steeds, driver, weapons, and standard, in the very sight of the latter's friends. The sightly head of that youth, graced with a face as beautiful as the Moon, cut off with a razor-headed arrow, looked like a lotus plucked from its stalk. Having slain Karna's son, Bhima began to afflict thy troops once more. Cutting off the bows then of Kripa and Hridika's son, he began to afflict those two also. Piercing Duhshasana with three arrows made wholly of iron, and Shakuni with six, he deprived both Uluka and his brother Patatri of their cars. Addressing Sushena next in these words, viz., "Thou art slain," Bhima took up an arrow. Karna, however, cut off that arrow and struck Bhima himself with three shafts. Then Bhima took up another straight arrow of great impetuosity and sped it at Sushena. But Vrisha cut that arrow also. Then Karna, desirous of rescuing his son, and wishing to make an end of the cruel Bhimasena, struck the latter with three and seventy fierce arrows. Then Sushena taking up an excellent bow capable of bearing a great strain, pierced Nakula with five arrows in the arms and the chest. Nakula, then piercing his antagonist with twenty strong shafts capable of bearing a great strain, uttered a loud roar and inspired Karna with fright. The mighty car-warrior Sushena, however, O king, piercing Nakula with ten shafts, quickly cut off the latter's bow with a razor-headed arrow. Then Nakula, insensate with rage, took up another bow, and resisted Sushena in that battle with nine shafts. That slayer of hostile heroes, O king, shrouding all the quarters with showers of arrows, slew Sushena's driver, and piercing Sushena himself again with three shafts, and then with three other broad-headed arrows, cut off his bow of great strength into three fragments. Sushena also, deprived of his senses in rage, took up another bow and pierced Nakula with sixty arrows and Sahadeva with seven. The battle raged fiercely, like that of the gods and the Asuras between those heroes striking one another. Satyaki, slaying the driver of Vrishasena with three arrows, cut off the latter's bow with a broad-headed shaft and struck his steeds with seven arrows. Crushing his standard then with another arrow, he struck Vrishasena himself with three arrows in the chest. Thus struck, Vrishasena became senseless on his car, but within the twinkling of an eye, stood up again. Deprived of his driver and steeds and car standard by Yuyudhana (Satyaki), Vrishasena then, armed with sword and shield, rushed against Yuyudhana from desire of slaying him. Satyaki, however, as his antagonist rushed towards him, struck at his sword and shield with ten arrows equipped with heads like a boar's ear. Then Duhshasana, beholding Vrishasena made carless and weaponless, quickly caused him to ascend his own car, and bearing him away from the spot, caused him to ride another vehicle. The mighty car-warrior Vrishasena then, riding on another vehicle, pierced the five sons of Draupadi with seventy and Yuyudhana with five, and Bhimasena with four and sixty, and Sahadeva with five, and Nakula with thirty, and Satanika with seven arrows, and Shikhandi with ten, and king Yudhishthira with a hundred. These and many other foremost of heroes, O king, all inspired with desire of victory that great bowman, viz., the son of Karna, O monarch, continued to afflict with his shafts. Then, in that battle, the invincible Vrishasena continued to protect the rear of Karna. The grandson of Sini, having made Duhshasana driverless and steedless and carless by means of nine times nine arrows made wholly of iron, struck Duhshasana with ten shafts in the forehead. The Kuru prince then, riding on another car that was duly equipped (with all necessary implements), once more began to fight with the Pandavas, from within the division of Karna. Then Dhristadyumna pierced Karna with ten arrows, and the sons of Draupadi pierced him with three and seventy, and Yuyudhana with seven. And Bhimasena pierced him with four and sixty arrows, and Sahadeva with seven. And Nakula pierced him with thirty arrows, and Satanika with seven. And the heroic Shikhandi pierced him with ten and king Yudhishthira with a hundred. These and other foremost of men, O monarch, all inspired with desire of victory, began to grind that great bowman, viz., the Suta's son, in that dreadful battle. That chastiser of foes, viz., the Suta's son of great heroism, performing quick evolutions with his car, pierced every one of those warriors with ten arrows. We then, O king, witnessed the lightness of hand displayed by the high-souled Karna and the power of his weapons. Indeed, what we saw appeared to be highly wonderful. People could not notice when he took up his arrows, when he aimed them, and when he let them off. They only beheld his enemies dying fast in consequence of his wrath. The sky, the firmament, the Earth, and all the quarters seemed to be entirely shrouded with sharp arrows. The firmament looked resplendent as if covered with red clouds. The valiant son of Radha, armed with the bow, and as if dancing (on his car), pierced each of his assailants with thrice as many arrows as each of them had pierced him with. And once more piercing each of them, and his steeds, driver, car, and standard with ten arrows, he uttered a loud roar. His assailants then gave him a way (through which he passed out). Having crushed those mighty bowmen with showers of arrows, the son of Radha, that crusher of foes, then penetrated, unresisted, into the midst of the division commanded by the Pandava king. Having destroyed thirty cars of the unreturning Cedis, the son of Radha struck Yudhishthira with many sharp arrows. Then many Pandava warriors, O king, with Shikhandi and Satyaki, desirous of rescuing the king from the son of Radha, surrounded the former. Similarly all the brave and mighty bowmen of thy army resolutely protected the irresistible Karna in that battle. The noise of diverse musical instrument arose then, O king, and the leonine shouts of brave warriors rent the sky. And the Kurus and the Pandavas once more fearlessly encountered each other, the former headed by the Suta's son and the latter by Yudhishthira.'" 49 "Sanjaya said, 'Piercing through the Pandava host, Karna, surrounded by thousands of cars and elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers, rushed towards king Yudhishthira the just. Cutting off with hundreds of fierce shafts the thousands of weapons sped at him by his foes, Vrisha fearlessly pierced through that host. Indeed, the Suta's son cut off the heads, the arms and the thighs of his enemies, who, deprived of life, fell down on the Earth. Others, finding their divisions broken, fled away. The Dravida, the Andhaka, and the Nishada foot-soldiers, urged on by Satyaki, once more rushed towards Karna in that battle, from desire of slaying him. Deprived of arms and head-gears, and slain by Karna with his shafts, they fell down simultaneously on the Earth, like a forest of Sala tree cut down (with the axe). Thus hundreds, thousands and ten thousands of combatants, deprived of life and filling the whole welkin with their fame, fell down with their bodies on the Earth. The Pandus and the Pancalas obstructed Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana, who careered wrathfully in battle like the Destroyer himself, even as people seek to obstruct a disease with incantations and drugs. Crushing all those assailants Karna once more rushed towards Yudhishthira, like an irresistible disease unchecked by incantations and drugs and (propitiatory) rites. At last checked by the Pandus, the Pancalas, and the Kekayas, all of whom were desirous of rescuing the king, Karna could not succeed in passing them over, like Death that is unable to vanquish persons conversant with Brahma. Then Yudhishthira, with eyes red in wrath, addressed Karna, that slayer of hostile heroes, who was held in check at a little distance from him, and said these words "O Karna, O Karna, O thou of vain sight, O son of a Suta, listen to my words. Thou always challengest the active Phalguna in battle. Obedient to the counsels of Dhritarashtra's son, thou always seekest to oppose us. Mustering thy great prowess, show thou today all thy might, all thy energy, and all the hatred thou bearest towards the sons of Pandu. Today in dreadful encounter, I will purge thee of thy desire for battle." Having said these words, the son of Pandu, O king, pierced Karna with ten shafts made entirely of iron and equipped with wings of gold. That chastiser of foes, and great bowman, viz., the Suta's son, O Bharata, pierced Yudhishthira, with the greatest care, in return, with ten arrows equipped with heads like the calf's tooth. Thus pierced by the Suta's son in contempt, O sire, the mighty-armed Yudhishthira, blazed up with wrath like a fire upon receiving butter. Bending his formidable bow decked with gold, the son of Pandu placed on his bow-string a whetted arrow capable of piercing the very hills. Drawing the bow to its fullest stretch, the king quickly sped that arrow, fatal as the rod of the Destroyer, from desire of slaying the Suta's son. Sped by the king endued with great might, that arrow whose whizz resembled the noise of the thunder, suddenly pierced Karna, that mighty car-warrior, on his left side. Deeply afflicted by the violence of that stroke, the mighty-armed Karna with weakened limbs, fell into a swoon on his car, his bow dropping from his hand. Beholding Karna in that plight, the vast Dhartarashtra host uttered cries of "Oh" and "Alas," and the faces of all the combatants became colourless. Beholding the prowess of their king, on the other hand, O monarch, amongst the Pandavas, leonine roars and shouts and confused cries of joy arose. The son of Radha, however, of cruel prowess, recovering his senses soon enough, set his heart on the destruction of Yudhishthira. Drawing his formidable bow called Vijaya that was decked with gold, the Suta's son of immeasurable soul began to resist the son of Pandu with his sharp shafts. With a couple of razor-headed arrows he slew in that encounter Candradeva and Dandadhara, the two Pancala princes, that protected the two car wheels of the high-souled Yudhishthira. Each of those heroes, standing by the side of Yudhishthira's car, looked resplendent like the constellation Punarvasu by the side of the moon. Yudhishthira, however, once more pierced Karna with thirty arrows. And he struck Sushena and Satyasena, each with three arrows. And he pierced every one of the protectors of Karna with three straight arrows. The son of Adhiratha then, laughing and shaking his bow inflicted a cutting wound on the king's body with a broad-headed arrow, and again pierced him with sixty arrows and then uttered a loud shout. Then many foremost heroes amongst the Pandavas, desirous of rescuing the king, rushed in wrath towards Karna and began to grind him with their arrows. Satyaki and Chekitana and Yuyutsu and Shikhandi and the sons of Draupadi and the Prabhadrakas, and the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva) and Bhimasena and Shishupala and the Karushas, Matsyas, the Suras, the Kaikayas, the Kasis and the Kosalas, all these brave heroes, endued with great activity, assailed Vasusena. The Pancala prince Janamejaya then pierced Karna with many arrows. The Pandava heroes, armed with diverse kinds of arrows and diverse weapons and accompanied by cars and elephants and steeds, rushing towards Karna, encompassed him on all sides, from desire of slaying him. Thus assailed on all sides by the foremost of Pandava warriors, Karna invoked into existence the brahmastra and filled all the points of the compass with arrows. The heroic Karna then, like unto a blazing fire having shafts for its scorching flame, careered in battle, burning that forest of Pandavas troops. The high-souled Karna, that great bowman, aiming some mighty weapons, and laughing the while, cut off the bow of that foremost of men, Yudhishthira. Then aiming ninety straight arrows within the twinkling of an eye, Karna cut off, with those sharp shafts, the armour of his antagonist. That armour, decked with gold and set with gems, looked beautiful, as it fell down, like a wind-tossed cloud penetrated by the rays of the Sun. Indeed, that armour, adorned with costly brilliants, fallen off from the body of that foremost of men, looked beautiful like the firmament in the night, bespangled with stars. His armour cut off with those arrows, the son of Pritha, covered with blood, wrathfully hurled at the son of Adhiratha a dart made wholly of iron. Karna, however, cut (into pieces) that blazing dart, as it coursed through the welkin, with seven shafts. That dart, thus cut off with those shafts of great bowman, fell down on the Earth. Then Yudhishthira, striking Karna with four lances in his two arms and forehead and chest, repeatedly uttered loud shouts. Thereupon blood spouted forth from the wounds of Karna, and the latter, filled with rage and breathing like a snake, cut off his antagonist's standard and pierced the Pandava himself with three broad-headed arrows. And he also cut off the couple of quivers (that his foe had) and the car (he rode) into minute fragments. Thereupon the king, riding on another car unto which were yoked those steeds, white as ivory and having black hair on their tails, that used to bear him (to battle), turned his face and began to fly. Thus did Yudhishthira began to retreat. His Parshni driver had been slain. He became exceedingly cheerless and unable to stay before Karna. The son of Radha then, pursuing Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, cleansed himself by touching him in the shoulder with his own fair hand (the palm of which was) graced with the auspicious signs of the thunderbolt, the umbrella, the hook, the fish, the tortoise, and the conchshell, and desired to seize him by force. He then remembered the words of Kunti. Then Shalya addressed him, and said, "Do not, O Karna, seize this best of kings. As soon as thou seizest him, he will reduce both thee and me to ashes." Then Karna, O king, laughing in mockery, addressed the son of Pandu and thus spoke unto him disparagingly. "How, indeed, born though thou art in a noble race, and observant though thou art of Kshatriya duties, wouldst thou leave the battle in fear, desiring to save thy life? I think that thou art not well-acquainted with the duties of Kshatriyas. Endued with Brahma-force, thou art indeed devoted to the study of the Vedas and the performance of sacrificial rites. Do not, O son of Kunti, fight again, and do not again approach brave warriors. Do not use harsh language towards heroes and do not come to great battles. Thou mayst use such words, O sire, towards others, but thou shouldst never address persons like us in that way. By using such words towards persons like us, thou wouldst in battle meet with this and other kinds of behaviour. Go back to thy quarters, O son of Kunti, or thither where those two, viz., Keshava and Arjuna, are. Indeed, O king, Karna will never slay one like thee." Having said these words unto the son of Pritha, the mighty Karna, setting Yudhishthira free, began to slaughter the Pandava host like the wielder of the thunderbolt slaughtering the Asura host. That ruler of men, (viz., Yudhishthira,) then, O king, quickly fled away. Beholding the king flying away, the Cedis, the Pandavas, the Pancalas, and the mighty car-warrior Satyaki, all followed that monarch of unfading glory. And the sons of Draupadi, and the Suras, and the twin sons of Madri by Pandu, also followed the king. Beholding the division of Yudhishthira retreating, the heroic Karna became highly glad with all the Kurus and began to pursue the retreating force. The din of battle-drums and conchs and cymbals and bows, and leonine shouts, arose from among the Dhartarashtra troops. Meanwhile Yudhishthira, O thou of Kuru's race, quickly riding on the car of Srutakirti, began to behold the prowess of Karna. Then king Yudhishthira, the just, seeing his troops fast slaughtered, became filled with rage, and addressing his warriors, commanded them, saying, "Slay these enemies. Why are ye inactive?" Then the mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas, headed by Bhimasena, thus commanded by the king, all rushed against thy sons. The shouts then, O Bharata, of the warriors (of both hosts), and the noise made by cars and elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers, and the clash of weapons, became tremendous. "Exert," "Strike," "Face the foe," were the words that the combatants addressed to one another as they began to slay one another in that dreadful battle. And in consequence of the showers of shafts shot by them a shadow as that of the clouds seemed to spread over the field. And in consequence of those rulers of men, covered with arrows, striking one another, they became divested of banners and standards and umbrellas and steeds and drivers and weapons in that battle. Indeed, those lords of Earth, deprived of life and limbs, fell down on the Earth. Looking like the mountain-summits in consequence of their uneven backs, huge elephants with their riders, deprived of life, fell down like mountains riven by thunder. Thousands of steeds, with their armour, equipments, and adornments all torn and broken and displaced, fell down, along with their heroic riders, deprived of life. Car-warriors with weapons loosened from their grasp, and deprived by (hostile) car-warriors of cars and life, and large bands of foot-soldiers, slain by hostile heroes in that dreadful clash, fell down in thousands. The Earth became covered with the heads of heroic combatants intoxicated with battle, heads that were adorned with large and expansive eyes of coppery hue and faces as beautiful as the lotus or the moon. And people heard noises as loud in the sky as on the surface of the Earth, in consequence of the sound of music and song proceeding from large bands of Apsaras on their celestial cars, with which those bands of heavenly choristers continually greeted the newly-arrived heroes slain in hundreds and thousands by brave enemies on Earth, and with which, placing them on celestial cars, they repaired on those vehicles (towards the region of Indra). Witnessing with their own eyes those wonderful sights, and actuated by the desire of going to heaven, heroes with cheerful hearts speedily slew one another. Car-warriors fought beautifully with car-warriors in that battle, and foot-soldiers with foot-soldiers, and elephants with elephants, and steeds with steeds. Indeed, when that battle, destructive of elephants and steeds and men, raged in this way, the field became covered with the dust raised by the troops. Then enemies slew enemies and friends slew friends. The combatants dragged one another by their locks, bit one another with their teeth, tore one another with their nails, and struck one another with clenched fists, and fought one another with bare arms in that fierce battle destructive of both life and sins. Indeed, as that battle, fraught with carnage of elephants and steeds and men, raged on so fiercely, a river of blood ran from the bodies of (slain) human beings and steeds and elephants. And that current carried away a large number of dead bodies of elephants and steeds and men. Indeed, in that vast host teeming with men, steeds, and elephants, that river formed by the blood of men and steeds and elephants and horsemen and elephant-men, became miry with flesh and exceedingly terrible. And on that current, inspiring the timid with terror, floated the bodies of men and steeds and elephants. Impelled by the desire of victory, some combatants forded it and some remained on the other side. And some plunged into its depths, and some sank in it and some rose above its surface as they swam through it. Smeared all over with blood, their armour and weapons and robes--all became bloody. Some bathed in it and some drank the liquid and some became strengthless, O bull of Bharata's race. Cars and steeds, and men and elephants and weapons and ornaments, and robes and armour, and combatants that were slain or about to be slain, and the Earth, the welkin, the firmament, and all the points of the compass, became red. With the odour, the touch, the taste, and the exceedingly red sight of that blood and its rushing sound, almost all the combatants, O Bharata, became very cheerless. The Pandava heroes then, headed by Bhimasena and Satyaki, once more rushed impetuously against that army already beaten. Beholding the impetuosity of that rush of the Pandava heroes to be irresistible, the vast force of thy sons, O king, turned its back on the field. Indeed, that host of thine, teeming with cars and steeds and elephants and men no longer in compact array, with armour and coats of mail displaced and weapons and bows loosened from their grasp, fled away in all directions, whilst being agitated by the enemy, even like a herd of elephants in the forest afflicted by lions.'" 50 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the Pandava heroes rushing impetuously towards thy host, Duryodhana, O monarch, endeavoured to check the warriors of his army on all sides, O bull of Bharata race. Although, however, thy son cried at the top of his voice, his flying troops, O king, still refused to stop. Then one of the wings of the army and its further wing, and Shakuni, the son of Subala, and the Kauravas well-armed turned against Bhimasena in that battle. Karna also, beholding the Dhartarashtra force with all its kings flying away, addressed the ruler of the Madras, saying, "Proceed towards the car of Bhima." Thus addressed by Karna, the ruler of the Madras began to urge those foremost of steeds, of the hue of swans, towards the spot where Vrikodara was. Thus urged by Shalya, that ornament of battle, those steeds approaching the car of Bhimasena, mangled in battle. Meanwhile, Bhima, beholding Karna approach, became filled with rage, and set his heart on the destruction of Karna, O bull of Bharata's race. Addressing the heroic Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Prishata, he said, "Go you to protect king Yudhishthira of virtuous soul. With difficulty he escaped from a situation of great peril before my very eyes. In my sight have the armour and robes of the king been cut off and torn, for Duryodhana's gratification, by Radha's son of wicked soul. I shall today reach the end of that woe, O son of Prishata. Today, either I shall slay Karna in battle, or he will slay me in dreadful battle. I tell thee truly. Today I make over the king to you as sacred pledge. With cheerful hearts exert ye today for protecting the king." Having said these words, the mighty-armed Bhima proceeded towards Adhiratha's son, making all the points of the compass resound with a loud leonine shout. Beholding Bhima, that delighter in battle, advancing quickly, the puissant king of the Madras addressed the Suta's son in the following words: "'Shalya said, "Behold, O Karna, the mighty-armed son of Pandu, who is filled with rage. Without doubt, he is desirous of vomiting upon thee that wrath which he has cherished for many years. Never before did I see him assume such a form, not even when Abhimanyu was slain and the Rakshasa Ghatotkaca. Filled with wrath, the form he hath now assumed, endued with the splendour of the all-destroying fire at the end of the Yuga, is such that it seems he is capable of resisting the three worlds united together."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'While the ruler of the Madras was saying these words unto the son of Radha, Vrikodara, excited with rage, came upon Karna. Beholding Bhima, that delighter in battle, approaching him in that way, the son of Radha laughingly said unto Shalya these words, "The words that thou, O ruler of the Madras, hast today spoken to me regarding Bhima, O lord, are without doubt all true. This Vrikodara is brave and is a hero full of wrath. He is reckless in protecting his body, and in strength of limbs he is superior to all. While leading a life of concealment in the city of Virata, relying then on the might of his bare arms, for doing what was agreeable to Draupadi, he secretly slew Kichaka with all his relatives. Even he stands today at the head of battle clad in mail and insensate with wrath. He is ready to engage in battle with the Destroyer armed with uplifted mace. This desire, however, hath been cherished through all my days, viz., that either I shall slay Arjuna or Arjuna will slay me. That desire of mine may be fulfilled today in consequence of my encounter with Bhima. If I slay Bhima or make him carless, Partha may come against me. That will be well for me. Settle that without delay which thou thinkest to be suitable to the hour." Hearing these words of Radha's son of immeasurable energy Shalya replied, saying, "O thou of mighty arms, proceed against Bhimasena of great might. Having checked Bhimasena, thou mayst then obtain Phalguna. That which is thy purpose, that desire which for many long years thou hast cherished in thy heart, will be accomplished, O Karna. I tell the truth." Thus addressed, Karna once more said unto Shalya, "Either I shall slay Arjuna in battle, or he will slay me. Setting thy heart on battle proceed to the spot where Vrikodara is."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Then, O king, Shalya speedily proceeded on that car to the spot where that great bowman, viz., Bhima, was engaged in routing thy army. There rose then the blare of trumpets and the peal of drums, O monarch, when Bhima and Karna met. The mighty Bhimasena, filled with rage, began to scatter thy troops difficult of defeat, with his sharp and polished shafts, to all sides. That collision in battle, O monarch, between Karna and the son of Pandu became, O king, fierce and awful, and the noise that arose was tremendous. Beholding Bhima coming towards him, Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana or Vrisha, filled with rage, struck him with shafts in the centre of the chest. And once more, Karna of immeasurable soul, covered him with a shower of arrows. Thus pierced by the Suta's son, Bhima covered the former with winged arrows. And he once more pierced Karna with nine straight and keen shafts. Then Karna, with a number of arrows, cut in twain Bhima's bow at the handle. And after cutting off his bow, he pierced him once again in the centre of the chest with a shaft of great keenness and capable of penetrating every kind of armour. Then Vrikodara, taking up another bow, O king, and knowing full well what the vital parts of the body are, pierced the Suta's son with many keen arrows. Then Karna pierced him with five and twenty arrows, like a hunter striking a proud and infuriate elephant in the forest with a number of blazing brands. His limbs mangled with those shafts, his eyes red with rage and the desire of revenge, the son of Pandu, insensate with wrath, and impelled by the desire of slaying the Suta's son, fixed on his bow an excellent shaft of great impetuosity, capable of bearing a great strain, and competent to pierce the very mountains. Forcibly drawing the bow-string to his very ear, the son of the Wind-god, that great bowman, filled with wrath and desirous of making an end of Karna, sped that shaft. Thus sped by the mighty Bhima, that shaft, making a noise loud as that of the thunder, pierced through Karna in that battle, like the thunderbolt itself piercing through a mountain. Struck by Bhimasena, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, the Suta's son, that commander (of thy forces), sat down senseless on the terrace of his car. The ruler of the Madras then, beholding the Suta's son deprived of his senses, bore that ornament of battle away on his car, from that fight. Then after Karna's defeat, Bhimasena began to rout the vast Dhartarashtra host like Indra routing the Danavas.'" 51 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Exceedingly difficult of accomplishment was that feat, O Sanjaya, which was achieved by Bhima who caused the mighty-armed Karna himself to measure his length on the terrace of his car. There is only one person, Karna, who will slay the Pandavas along with the Srinjayas--even this is what Duryodhana, O Suta, used very often to say unto me. Beholding, however, that son of Radha now defeated by Bhima in battle, what did my son Duryodhana next do?' "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding Radha's son of the Suta caste turned back from the fight in that great battle, thy son, O monarch, addressed his uterine brothers, saying, "Go ye quickly, blessed be ye, and protect the son of Radha who is plunged into that fathomless ocean of calamity represented by the fear of Bhimasena." Thus commanded by the king, those princes, excited with wrath and desirous of slaying Bhimasena, rushed towards him like insects towards a blazing fire. They were Srutarvan and Durddhara and Kratha and Vivitsu and Vikata and Soma, and Nishangin and Kavashin and Pasin and Nanda and Upanandaka, and Duspradharsha and Suvahu and Vatavega and Suvarchasas, and Dhanurgraha and Durmada and Jalasandha and Sala and Saha. Surrounded by a large car-force, those princes, endued with great energy and might, approached Bhimasena and encompassed him on all sides. They sped at him from every side showers of arrows of diverse kinds. Thus afflicted by them, Bhima of great strength, O king, quickly slew fifty foremost car-warriors with five hundred others, amongst those sons of thine that advanced against him. Filled with rage, Bhimasena then, O king, with a broad-headed arrow, struck off the head of Vivitsu adorned with earrings and head-gear, and graced with a face resembling the full moon. Thus cut off, that prince fell down on the Earth. Beholding that heroic brother of theirs slain, the (other) brothers there, O lord, rushed in that battle, from every side, upon Bhima of terrible prowess. With two other broad-headed arrows then, Bhima of terrible prowess took the lives of two other sons of thine in that dreadful battle. Those two, Vikata and Saha, looking like a couple of celestial youths, O king, thereupon fell down on the Earth like a couple of trees uprooted by the tempest. Then Bhima, without losing a moment, despatched Kratha to the abode of Yama, with a long arrow of keen point. Deprived of life, that prince fell down on the Earth. Loud cries of woe then, O ruler of men, arose there when those heroic sons of thine, all great bowmen, were being thus slaughtered. When those troops were once more agitated, the mighty Bhima, O monarch, then despatched Nanda and Upananda in that battle to Yama's abode. Thereupon thy sons, exceedingly agitated and inspired with fear, fled away, seeing that Bhimasena in that battle behaved like the Destroyer himself at the end of the Yuga. Beholding those sons of thine slain, the Suta's son with a cheerless heart once more urged his steeds of the hue of swans to that place where the son of Pandu was. Those steeds, O king, urged on by the ruler of Madras, approached with great speed the car of Bhimasena and mingled in battle. The collision, O monarch, that once more took place between Karna and the son of Pandu in battle, became, O king, exceedingly fierce and awful and fraught with a loud din. Beholding, O king, those two mighty car-warriors close with each other, I became very curious to observe the course of the battle. Then Bhima, boasting of his prowess in battle, covered Karna in that encounter, O king, with showers of winged shafts in the very sight of thy sons. Then Karna, that warrior acquainted with the highest of weapons, filled with wrath, pierced Bhima with nine broad-headed and straight arrows made entirely of iron. Thereupon the mighty-armed Bhima of terrible prowess, thus struck by Karna, pierced his assailant in return with seven shafts sped from his bow-string drawn to his ear. Then Karna, O monarch, sighing like a snake of virulent poison, shrouded the son of Pandu with a thick shower of arrows. The mighty Bhima also, shrouding that mighty car-warrior with dense arrowy downpours in the very sight of the Kauravas, uttered a loud shout. Then Karna, filled with rage, grasped his strong bow and pierced Bhima with ten arrows whetted on stone and equipped with Kanka feathers. With another broad-headed arrow of great sharpness, he also cut off Bhima's bow. Then the mighty-armed Bhima of great strength, taking up a terrible parigha, twined round with hempen cords and decked with gold and resembling a second bludgeon of Death himself, and desiring to slay Karna outright, hurled it at him with a loud roar. Karna, however, with a number of arrows resembling snakes of virulent poison, cut off into many fragments that spiked mace as it coursed towards him with the tremendous peal of thunder. Then Bhima, that grinder of hostile troops, grasping his bow with greater strength, covered Karna with keen shafts. The battle that took place between Karna and the son of Pandu in that meeting became awful for a moment, like that of a couple of huge lions desirous of slaying each other. Then Karna, O king, drawing the bow with great force and stretching the string to his very ear, pierced Bhimasena with three arrows. Deeply pierced by Karna, that great bowman and foremost of all persons endued with might then took up a terrible shaft capable of piercing through the body of his antagonist. That shaft, cutting through Karna's armour and piercing through his body, passed out and entered the Earth like a snake into ant-hill. In consequence of the violence of that stroke, Karna felt great pain and became exceedingly agitated. Indeed, he trembled on his car like a mountain during an earthquake. Then Karna, O king, filled with rage and the desire to retaliate, struck Bhima with five and twenty shafts, and then with many more. With one arrow he then cut off Bhimasena's standard, and with another broad-headed arrow he despatched Bhima's driver to the presence of Yama. Next quickly cutting off the bow of Pandu's son with another winged arrow, Karna deprived Bhima of terrible feats of his car. Deprived of his car, O chief of Bharata's race, the mighty-armed Bhima, who resembled the Wind-god (in prowess) took up a mace and jumped down from his excellent vehicle. Indeed, jumping down from his car with great fury, Bhima began to slay thy troops, O king, like the wind destroying the clouds of autumn. Suddenly the son of Pandu, that scorcher of foes, filled with wrath, routed seven hundred elephants, O king, endued with tusks as large as plough-shafts, and all skilled in smiting hostile troops. Possessed of great strength and a knowledge of what the vital parts of an elephant are, he struck them on their temples and frontal globes and eyes and the parts above their gums. Thereupon those animals, inspired with fear, ran away. But urged again by their drivers they surrounded Bhimasena once more, like the clouds covering the Sun. Like Indra felling mountains with thunder, Bhima with his mace prostrated those seven hundred elephants with their riders and weapons and standards. That chastiser of foes, the son of Kunti, next pressed down two and fifty elephants of great strength belonging to the son of Subala. Scorching thy army, the son of Pandu then destroyed a century of foremost cars and several hundreds of foot-soldiers in that battle. Scorched by the Sun as also by the high-souled Bhima, thy army began to shrink like a piece of leather spread over a fire. Those troops of thine, O bull of Bharata's race, filled with anxiety through fear of Bhimasena, avoided Bhima in that battle and fled away in all directions. Then five hundred car-warriors, cased in excellent mail, rushed towards Bhima with loud shouts, shooting thick showers of arrows on all sides. Like Vishnu destroying the Asuras, Bhima destroyed with his mace all those brave warriors with their drivers and cars and banners and standards and weapons. Then 3,000 horsemen, despatched by Shakuni, respected by all brave men and armed with darts and swords and lances, rushed towards Bhima. That slayer of foes, advancing impetuously towards them, and coursing in diverse tracks, slew them with his mace. Loud sounds arose from among them while they were being assailed by Bhima, like those that arise from among herd of elephants struck with large pieces of rocks. Having slain those 3,000 excellent horses of Subala's son in that way, he rode upon another car, and filled with rage proceeded against the son of Radha. Meanwhile, Karna also, O king, covered Dharma's son (Yudhishthira) that chastiser of foes, with thick showers of arrows, and felled his driver. Then that mighty car-warrior beholding Yudhishthira fly away in that battle, pursued him, shooting many straight-coursing shafts equipped with Kanka feathers. The son of the Wind-god, filled with wrath, and covering the entire welkin with his shafts, shrouded Karna with thick showers of arrows as the latter pursued the king from behind. The son of Radha then, that crusher of foes, turning back from the pursuit, quickly covered Bhima himself with sharp arrows from every side. Then Satyaki, of immeasurable soul, O Bharata, placing himself on the side of Bhima's car, began to afflict Karna who was in front of Bhima. Though exceedingly afflicted by Satyaki, Karna still approached Bhima. Approaching each other those two bulls among all wielders of bows, those two heroes endued with great energy, looked exceedingly resplendent as they sped their beautiful arrows at each other. Spread by them, O monarch, in the welkin, those flights of arrows, blazing as the backs of cranes, looked exceedingly fierce and terrible. In consequence of those thousands of arrows, O king, neither the rays of the Sun nor the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, could any longer be noticed either by ourselves or by the enemy. Indeed, the blazing effulgence of the Sun shining at mid-day was dispelled by those dense showers of arrows shot by Karna and the son of Pandu. Beholding the son of Subala, and Kritavarma, and Drona's son, and Adhiratha's son, and Kripa, engaged with the Pandavas, the Kauravas rallied and came back to the fight. Tremendous became the din, O monarch, that was made by that host as it rushed impetuously against their foes, resembling that terrible noise that is made by many oceans swollen with rains. Furiously engaged in battle, the two hosts became filled with great joy as the warriors beheld and seized one another in that dreadful melee. The battle that commenced at that hour when the Sun had reached the meridian was such that its like had never been heard or seen by us. One vast host rushed against another, like a vast reservoir of water rushing towards the ocean. The din that arose from the two hosts as they roared at each other, was loud and deep as that which may be heard when several oceans mingle with one another. Indeed, the two furious hosts, approaching each other, mingled into one mass like two furious rivers that run into each other. "'The battle then commenced, awful and terrible, between the Kurus and the Pandavas, both of whom were inspired with the desire of winning great fame. A perfect Babel of voices of the shouting warriors was incessantly heard there, O royal Bharata, as they addressed one another by name. He who had anything, by his father's or mother's side or in respect of his acts or conduct, that could furnish matter for ridicule, was in that battle made to hear it by his antagonist. Beholding those brave warriors loudly rebuking one another in that battle, I thought, O king, that their periods of life had been run out. Beholding the bodies of those angry heroes of immeasurable energy a great fear entered my heart, respecting the dire consequences that would ensue. Then the Pandavas, O king, and the Kauravas also, mighty car-warriors all, striking one another, began to mangle one another with their keen shafts.'" 52 "Sanjaya said, 'Those Kshatriyas, O monarch, harbouring feelings of animosity against one another and longing to take one another's life, began to slay one another in that battle. Throngs of cars, and large bodies of horses, and teeming divisions of infantry and elephants in large numbers mingled with one another, O king, for battle. We beheld the falling of maces and spiked bludgeons and Kunapas and lances and short arrows and rockets hurled at one another in that dreadful engagement. Arrowy showers terrible to look at coursed like flights of locusts. Elephants approaching elephants routed one another. Horsemen encountering horsemen in that battle, and car-warriors encountering car-warriors, and foot-soldiers encountering foot-soldiers, and foot-soldiers meeting with horsemen, and foot-soldiers meeting with cars and elephants, and cars meeting with elephants and horsemen, and elephants of great speed meeting with the three other kinds of forces, began, O king, to crush and grind one another. In consequence of those brave combatants striking one another and shouting at the top of their voices, the field of battle became awful, resembling the slaughter-ground of creatures (of Rudra himself). The Earth, O Bharata, covered with blood, looked beautiful like a vast plain in the season of rains covered with the red coccinella. Indeed, the Earth assumed the aspect of a youthful maiden of great beauty, attired in white robes dyed with deep red. Variegated with flesh and blood, the field of battle looked as if decked all over with gold. Large numbers of heads severed from trunks and arms and thighs and earrings and other ornaments displaced from the bodies of warriors, O Bharata, and collars and cuirasses and bodies of brave bowmen, and coats of mail, and banners, lay scattered on the ground. Elephants coming against elephants tore one another with their tusks, O king. Struck with the tusks of hostile compeers, elephants looked exceedingly beautiful. Bathed in blood, those huge creatures looked resplendent like moving hills decked with metals, down whose breasts ran streams of liquid chalk. Lances hurled by horsemen, or those held horizontally by hostile combatants, were seized by many of those beasts, while many amongst them twisted and broke those weapons. Many huge elephants, whose armour had been cut off with shafts, looked, O king, like mountains divested of clouds at the advent of winter. Many foremost of elephants pierced with arrows winged with gold, looked beautiful like mountains, O sire, whose summits are lighted with blazing brands. Some of those creatures, huge as hills, struck by hostile compeers, fell down in that battle, like winged mountains (when clipped of their wings). Others, afflicted with arrows and much pained by their wounds, fell down touching the Earth, in that dreadful battle, at their frontal globes or the parts between their tusks. Others roared aloud like lions. And many, uttering terrible sounds, ran hither and thither, and many, O king, uttered cries of pain. Steeds also, in golden trappings, struck with arrows, fell down, or became weak, or ran in all directions. Others, struck with arrows and lances or dragged down, fell on the Earth and writhed in agony, making diverse kinds of motion. Men also, struck down, fell on the Earth, uttering diverse cries of pain, O sire; others, beholding their relatives and sires and grandsires, and others seeing retreating foes, shouted to one another their well-known names and the names of their races. The arms of many combatants, decked with ornaments of gold, cut off, O king, by foes, writhed on the ground, making diverse kinds of motions. Thousands of such arms fell down and sprang up, and many seemed to dart forward like five-headed snakes. Those arms, looking like the tapering bodies of snakes, and smeared with sandal paste, O king, looked beautiful, when drenched with blood, like little standards of gold. When the battle, becoming general, raged so furiously on all sides, the warriors fought with and slew one another without distinct perceptions of those they fought with or struck. A dusty cloud overspread the field of battle, and the weapons used fell in thick showers. The scene being thus darkened, the combatants could no longer distinguish friends from foes. Indeed, that fierce and awful battle proceeded thus. And soon there began to flow many mighty rivers of the bloody currents. And they abounded with the heads of combatants that formed their rocks. And the hair of the warriors constituted their floating weeds and moss. Bones formed the fishes with which they teemed, and bows and arrows and maces formed the rafts by which to cross them. Flesh and blood forming their mire, those terrible and awful rivers, with currents swelled by blood, were thus formed there, enhancing the fears of the timid and the joy of the brave. Those awful rivers led to the abode of Yama. Many plunged into those streams inspiring Kshatriyas with fear, and perished. And in consequence of various carnivorous creatures, O tiger among men, roaring and yelling on all sides, the field of battle became terrible like the domains of the king of the dead. And innumerable headless trunks rose up on all sides. And terrible creatures, gorging on flesh and drinking fat, and blood, O Bharata, began to dance around. And crows and vultures and cranes, gratified with fat and marrow and other animals relishing flesh, were seen to move about in glee. They, however, O king, that were heroes, casting off all fear which is so difficult of being cast off, and observing the vow of warriors, fearlessly did their duty. Indeed, on that field where countless arrows and darts coursed through the air, and which was crowded with carnivorous creatures of diverse kinds, brave warriors careered fearlessly, displaying their prowess. Addressing one another, O Bharata, they declared their names and families. And many amongst them, declaring the names of their sires and families, O lord, began to crush one another, O king, with darts and lances and battle-axes. During the progress of that fierce and awful battle, the Kaurava army became strengthless and unable to bear up any longer like a foundered vessel on the bosom of the ocean.'" 53 "Sanjaya said, 'During the progress of that battle in which so many Kshatriyas sank down, the loud twang of Gandiva, O sire, was heard above the din on that spot, O king, where the son of Pandu was engaged in slaughtering the samsaptakas, the Kosalas, and the Narayana forces. Filled with rage and longing for victory, the samsaptakas, in that battle, began to pour showers of arrows on Arjuna's head. The puissant Partha, however, quickly checking those arrowy showers, O king, plunged into that battle, and began to slay many foremost of car-warriors. Plunging into the midst of that division of cars with the aid of his whetted shafts equipped with Kanka feathers, Partha came upon Susharma of excellent weapons. That foremost of car-warriors poured on Arjuna thick showers of arrows. Meanwhile the samsaptakas also covered Partha with their shafts. Then Susharma, piercing Partha with ten shafts, struck Janardana with three in the right arm. With a broad-headed arrow then, O sire, he pierced the standard of Arjuna. Thereupon that foremost of apes, of huge dimensions, the handiwork of the celestial artificer himself, began to utter loud sounds and roared very fiercely, affrighting thy troops. Hearing the roars of the ape, thy army became inspired with fear. Indeed, under the influence of a great fear, that army became perfectly inactive. That army then, as it stood inactive, O king, looked beautiful like the Citraratha forest with its flowery burthen of diverse kinds. Then those warriors, recovering their senses, O chief of the Kurus, began to drench Arjuna with their arrowy downpours like the clouds drenching the mountains. Then all of them encompassed the great car of the Pandava. Assailing him, they uttered loud roars although all the while they were being struck and slaughtered with sharp shafts. Assailing his steeds, his car-wheels, his car-shaft, and every other limb of his vehicle, with great force, O sire, they uttered many leonine roars. Some among them seized the massive arms of Keshava, and some among them, O king, seized Partha himself with great joy as he stood on his car. Then Keshava, shaking his arms on the field of battle, threw down all those that had seized them, like a wicked elephant shaking down all the riders from his back. Then Partha, encompassed by those great car-warriors, and beholding his car assailed and Keshava attacked in that manner became filled with rage, and overthrew a large number of car-warriors and foot-soldiers. And he covered all the combatants that were close to him with many arrows, that were fit for close encounters. Addressing Keshava then, he said, "Behold, O Krishna, O thou of mighty arms, these countless samsaptakas engaged in accomplishing a fearful task although slaughtered in thousands. O bull amongst the Yadus, there is none on Earth, save myself, that would be able to bear such a close attack on his car." Having said these words, Vibhatsu blew his conch. Then Krishna also blew his conch filling the welkin with its blare. Hearing that blare the army of the samsaptakas began to waver, O king, and became inspired with great fright. Then that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., the son of Pandu, paralysed the legs of the samsaptakas by repeatedly invoking, O monarch, the weapon called Naga. Thus tied with those foot-tying bands by the high-souled son of Pandu, all of them stood motionless, O king, as if they had been petrified. The son of Pandu then began to slay those motionless warriors like Indra in days of yore slaying the Daityas in the battle with Taraka. Thus slaughtered in that battle, they set the car free, and commenced to throw down all their weapons. Their legs being paralysed, they could not, O king, move a step. Then Partha slew them with his straight arrows. Indeed, all these warriors in that battle, aiming at whom Partha had invoked that foot-tying weapon, had their lower limbs encircled with snakes. Then the mighty car-warrior Susharma, O monarch, beholding his army thus paralysed, quickly invoked the weapon called Sauparna. Thereupon numerous birds began to come down and devour those snakes. The latter again, at the sight of rangers of the sky, began, O king, to fly away. Freed from that foot-tying weapon, the Samsaptaka force, O monarch, looked like the Sun himself giving light unto all creatures, when freed from clouds. Thus liberated, those warriors once more shot their arrows, O sire, and hurled their weapons at Arjuna's car. And all of them pierced Partha with numerous weapons. Cutting off with his own arrowy downpour that shower of mighty weapons Vasava's son, that slayer of hostile heroes, began to slaughter those warriors. Then Susharma, O king, with a straight arrow, pierced Arjuna in the chest, and then he pierced him with three other shafts. Deeply pierced therewith, and feeling great pain, Arjuna sat down on the terrace of his car. Then all the troops loudly cried out, saying, "Partha is slain." At this the blare of conchs, and the peal of drums, and the sound of diverse musical instruments, and loud leonine shouts, arose there. Recovering his senses, Partha of immeasurable soul, owning white steeds and having Krishna for his driver, speedily invoked the Aindra weapon. Then thousands of arrows, O sire, issuing from that weapon, were seen on all sides to slay kings and elephants. And steeds and warriors, in hundreds and thousands, were also seen to be slaughtered in that battle, with these weapons. Then while the troops were thus being slaughtered, a great fear entered the hearts of all the samsaptakas and Gopalas, O Bharata. There was no man amongst them that could fight with Arjuna. There in the very sight of all the heroes, Arjuna began to destroy thy troops. Beholding that slaughter, all of them remained perfectly inactive, without putting forth their prowess. Then the son of Pandu having slain full 10,000 combatants in that battle, looked resplendent, O monarch, like a blazing fire without smoke. And then he slew full 14,000 warriors, and 3,000 warriors, and 3,000 elephants. Then the samsaptakas once more encompassed Dhananjaya, making death or victory their goal. The battle then that took place there between thy warriors and that mighty hero, viz., the diadem-decked son of Pandu became awful.'" 54 "Sanjaya said, 'Then Kritavarma, and Kripa, and the son of Drona and the Suta's son, O sire, and Uluka, and Subala's son (Shakuni), and the king himself, with his uterine brothers, beholding the (Kuru) army afflicted with the fear of Pandu's son, unable to stand together, like a vessel wrecked on the ocean, endeavoured to rescue it with great speed. For a short space of time, O Bharata, the battle that once more took place became exceedingly fierce, enhancing as it did the fears of timid and the joy of the brave. The dense showers of arrows shot in battle by Kripa, thick, as flights of locusts, covered the Srinjayas. Then Shikhandi, filled with rage, speedily proceeded against the grandson of Gautama (Kripa) and poured upon that bull amongst Brahmanas his arrowy downpours from all sides. Acquainted with the highest weapons Kripa then checked that arrowy downpour, and wrathfully pierced Shikhandi with ten arrows in that battle. Then Shikhandi filled with rage, deeply pierced Kripa, in that encounter, with seven straight arrows equipped with Kanka feathers. The twice-born Kripa then, that great car-warrior, deeply pierced with those keen arrows, deprived Shikhandi of his steeds, driver and car. Jumping down from his steedless vehicle, the mighty car-warrior (Shikhandi) rushed impetuously at the Brahmana, having taken up a sword and a shield. As the Pancala prince advanced, Kripa quickly covered him with many straight arrows in that encounter, which seemed exceedingly wonderful. Indeed, exceedingly wonderful was the sight that we then beheld, even like the flying of rocks, for Shikhandi, O king, (thus assailed) remained perfectly inactive in that battle. Beholding Shikhandi covered (with arrows) by Kripa, O best of the kings, the mighty car-warrior Dhrishtadyumna speedily proceeded against Kripa. The great car-warrior Kritavarma, however, rushing impetuously received Dhrishtadyumna as the latter proceeded against the son of Sharadvata (Kripa). Then Drona's son checked Yudhishthira as the latter, with his son and troops, was rushing towards the car of Sharadvata's son. Thy son Duryodhana, shooting a shower of arrows, received and checked Nakula and Sahadeva, those two great car-warriors endued with celerity. Karna too, otherwise called Vaikartana, O Bharata, in that battle, resisted Bhimasena, and the Karushas, the Kaikayas, and the Srinjayas. Meanwhile Sharadvata's son, in that battle, O sire, with great activity, sped many arrows at Shikhandi, as if for the purpose of burning him outright. The Pancala prince, however, whirling his sword repeatedly, cut off all those arrows, decked with gold, that had been sped at him by Kripa from all sides. The grandson of Gautama (Kripa) then quickly cut off with his arrows the shield of Prishata's son, that was decked with hundred moons. At this feat of his, the troops made a loud uproar. Deprived of his shield, O monarch, and placed under Kripa's power Shikhandi still rushed, sword in hand, (towards Kripa), like a sick man towards the jaws of Death. Then Suketu, the son of Citraketu, O king, quickly proceeded towards the mighty Shikhandi plunged into such distress and assailed in that manner by Kripa with his arrows. Indeed, the young prince of immeasurable soul rushed towards the car of Sharadvata's son and poured upon that Brahmana, in that battle, innumerable shafts of great keenness. Beholding that Brahmana observant of vows thus engaged in battle (with another), Shikhandi, O best of kings, retreated hastily from that spot. Meanwhile Suketu, O king, piercing the son of Gautama with nine arrows, once more pierced him with seventy and again with three. Then the prince, O sire, cut off Kripa's bow with arrow fixed thereon, and with another shaft struck hard the latter's driver in a vital limb. The grandson of Gautama then, filled with rage, took up a new and very strong bow and struck Suketu with thirty arrows in all his vital limbs. All his limbs exceedingly weakened, the prince trembled on his excellent car like a tree trembling exceedingly during an earthquake. With a razor-headed arrow then, Kripa struck off from the prince's trunk, while the latter was still trembling, his head decked with a pair of blazing earrings and head-protector. That head thereupon fell down on the Earth like a piece of meat from the claws of a hawk, and then his trunk also fell down, O thou of great glory. Upon the fall of Suketu, O monarch, his troops became frightened, and avoiding Kripa, fled away on all sides. "'Encompassing the mighty Dhrishtadyumna, Kritavarma cheerfully addressed him saying, "Wait, Wait!" The encounter then that took place between the Vrishni and the Pancala warriors in that battle became exceedingly fierce, like that between two hawks, O king, for a piece of meat. Filled with rage, Dhrishtadyumna, in that battle, struck the son of Hridika (Kritavarma, the ruler of Bhoja) with nine arrows in the chest, and succeeded in afflicting him greatly. Then Kritavarma, thus deeply struck by Prishata's son in that encounter, covered his assailant, his steeds, and his car with his shafts. Thus shrouded, O king, along with his car, Dhrishtadyumna became invisible, like the Sun shrouded by rain-charged clouds. Baffling all those shafts decked with gold, Dhrishtadyumna, O king, looked resplendent in that battle in his wounds. The commander of the Pandava forces, viz., the son of Prishata, then, filled with rage, approached Kritavarma and poured upon him a fierce shower of arrows. The son of Hridika, however, in that battle, with many thousands of his own arrows, destroyed that fierce arrowy shower coursing towards him with great impetuosity. Beholding his irresistible shower of arrows checked in that battle by Kritavarma, the son of Prishata, approaching his antagonist, began to resist him. And soon he despatched Kritavarma's driver to Yama's abode with a broad-headed arrow of great sharpness. Deprived of life, the driver fell down from the car. The mighty Dhrishtadyumna, having vanquished his mighty antagonist, began then to resist the Kauravas with shafts, without losing a moment. Then thy warriors, O king, rushed towards Dhrishtadyumna, uttering loud leonine roars. At this a battle once more took place between them.'" 55 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile the son of Drona (Ashvatthama), beholding Yudhishthira protected by the grandson of Sini (Satyaki) and by the heroic sons of Draupadi, cheerfully advanced against the king, scattering many fierce arrows equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone, and displaying diverse manoeuvres of his car and the great skill he had acquired and his exceeding lightness of hands. He filled the entire welkin with shafts inspired with the force of celestial weapons. Conversant with all weapons, Drona's son encompassed Yudhishthira in that battle. The welkin being covered with the shafts of Drona's son, nothing could be seen. The vast space in front of Ashvatthama became one expanse of arrows. The welkin then, thus covered with that dense shower of arrows decked with gold, looked beautiful, O chief of the Bharatas, as if a canopy embroidered with gold had been spread there. Indeed, the firmament, O king, having been covered with that bright shower of arrows, a shadow, as that of the clouds, appeared there on the occasion. Wonderful was the sight that we then beheld when the sky had thus become one expanse of arrows, for not one creature ranging the sky could course through his element. Then Satyaki, though struggling resolutely, and Pandu's son king Yudhishthira the just, as also all the other warriors, could not display their prowess. Beholding the great lightness of hands displayed by the son of Drona, the mighty car-warriors (of the Pandava army) were filled with wonder. All the kings became incapable of even looking at Ashvatthama, O monarch, who then resembled the scorching Sun himself in the sky. While the Pandava troops were thus being slaughtered, those mighty car-warriors, viz., the sons of Draupadi, and Satyaki, and king Yudhishthira the just, and the Pancala warriors, all uniting together, cast off their fears of death and rushed against the son of Drona. Then Satyaki, piercing the son of Drona with seventy arrows, once more pierced him with seven long shafts decked with gold. And Yudhishthira pierced him with three and seventy arrows, and Prativindya with seven, and Srutakarman pierced him with three arrows and Srutakirti with five. And Sutasoma pierced him with nine arrows, and Satanika with seven. And many other heroes pierced him with many arrows from every side. Filled then with rage and breathing, O king, like a snake of virulent poison, Drona's son pierced Satyaki in return with five and twenty arrows whetted on stone. And he pierced Srutakirti with nine arrows and Sutasoma with five, and with eight arrows he pierced Srutakarman, and Prativindya with three. And he pierced Satanika with nine arrows, and Dharma's son (Yudhishthira) with five. And each of the other warriors he pierced with a couple of shafts. With some keen arrows he then cut off the bow of Srutakirti. The latter then, that great car-warrior, taking up another bow, pierced Drona's son, first with three arrows and then with many others equipped with sharp points. Then, O monarch, the son of Drona covered the Pandava troops, O sire, with thick showers of arrows, O bull of Bharata's race. Of immeasurable soul, the son of Drona, next smiling the while, cut off the bow of king Yudhishthira the just, and then pierced him with three arrows. The son of Dharma then, O king, taking up another formidable bow, pierced Drona's son with seventy arrows in the arms and the chest. Then Satyaki, filled with rage in that battle, cut off the bow of Drona's son, that great smiter, with a sharp crescent-shaped arrow and uttered a loud roar. His bow cut off, that foremost of mighty men viz., the son of Drona, quickly felled Satyaki's driver from his car with a dart. The valiant son of Drona then, taking up another bow, covered the grandson of Sini, O Bharata, with a shower of arrows. His driver having been slain, Satyaki's steeds were seen to run hither and thither, O Bharata, in that battle. Then the Pandava warriors headed by Yudhishthira, shooting sharp shafts, all rushed with impetuosity towards Drona's son, that foremost of all wielders of weapons. That scorcher of foes, however, viz., the son of Drona, beholding those warriors wrathfully advancing against him received them all in that dreadful battle. Then like a fire in the forest consuming heaps of dry grass and straw, that mighty car-warrior, viz., Drona's son, having showers of arrows for his flames, consumed the Pandava troops in that battle, who resembled a heap of dry grass and straw. That army of Pandu's son, thus scorched by the son of Drona, became exceedingly agitated, O chief of the Bharatas, like the mouth of a river by a whale. People then, O monarch, beholding the prowess of Drona's son, regarded all the Pandavas as already slain by him. Then Yudhishthira, that great car-warrior and disciple of Drona, filled with rage and the desire to retaliate, addressed Drona's son, saying "O tiger among men, thou hast no affection, thou hast no gratitude, since thou desirest to slay me today. The duties of a Brahmana are asceticism and gift and study. The bow should be bent by the Kshatriya only. It seems, therefore, that thou art a Brahmana in name only. In thy very sight, however." O thou of mighty arms, I will vanquish the Kauravas in battle. Do what thou canst in battle. I tell thee that thou art a wretch amongst Brahmanas." Thus addressed, the son of Drona, smiling, and reflecting upon what was proper and true, gave no reply. Without saying anything, he covered the son of Pandu in that battle with a shower of arrows like the destroyer himself in wrath while engaged in annihilating creatures. Thus covered by Drona's son, O sire, the son of Pritha quickly went away from that spot, leaving that large division of his. After Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, had gone away, the high-souled son of Drona also, O king, left that spot. Then Yudhishthira, O king, avoiding the son of Drona in that great battle proceeded against thy army, resolved to achieve the cruel task of slaughter.'" 56 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile Vikartana himself, resisting Bhimasena supported by the Pancalas and the Cedis and the Kaikayas, covered him with many arrows. In the very sight of Bhimasena, Karna, slew in that battle many mighty car-warriors among the Cedis, the Karushas, and the Srinjayas. Then Bhimasena, avoiding Karna, that best of car-warriors, proceeded against the Kaurava troops like a blazing fire towards a heap of dry grass. The Suta's son also in that battle, began to slay the mighty bowmen amongst the Pancalas, the Kaikayas, and the Srinjayas, in thousands. Indeed, the three mighty car-warriors viz., Partha and Vrikodara and Karna, began to exterminate the samsaptakas, the Kauravas, and the Pancalas, respectively. In consequence of thy evil policy, O king, all these Kshatriyas, scorched with excellent shafts by those three great warriors, began to be exterminated in that battle. Then Duryodhana, O chief of the Bharatas, filled with rage, pierced Nakula and his four steeds with nine arrows. Of immeasurable soul, thy son next, O ruler of men, cut off the golden standard of Sahadeva with a razor-faced shaft. Filled with wrath, Nakula then, O king, struck thy son with three and seventy arrows in that battle, and Sahadeva struck him with five. Each of those foremost warriors of Bharata's race and foremost of all bowmen, was struck by Duryodhana in rage with five arrows. With a couple of broad-headed arrows, then, he cut off the bows of both those warriors; and then he suddenly pierced each of the twins with three and seventy arrows. Taking up then two other beautiful and foremost of bows each of which resembled the bow of Indra himself, those two heroes looked beautiful like a pair of celestial youths in that battle. Then those two brothers, both endued with great activity in battle, poured upon their cousin, O king, ceaseless showers of terrible shafts like two masses of clouds, pouring rain upon a mountain breast. Thereupon thy son, that great car-warrior, O king, filled with rage, resisted those two great bowmen, viz., the twin sons of Pandu, with showers of winged arrows. The bow of Duryodhana in that battle, O Bharata, seemed to be continuously drawn into a circle, and shafts seemed to issue from it ceaselessly on all sides. Covered with Duryodhana's shafts the two sons of Pandu ceased to shine brightly, like the Sun and the Moon in the firmament, divested of splendour, when shrouded by masses of clouds. Indeed, those arrows, O king, equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone, covered all the points of the compass like the rays of the Sun, when the welkin was thus shrouded and all that was seen was one uniform expanse of the Destroyer himself, at the end of the Yuga. Beholding on the other hand, the prowess of thy son, the great car-warriors all regarded the twin sons of Madri to be in the presence of Death. The commander then, O king, of the Pandava army, viz., the mighty car-warrior Parshata (Son of Prishata) proceeded to that spot where Duryodhana was. Transgressing those two great car-warriors, viz., the two brave sons of Madri, Dhrishtadyumna began to resist thy son with his shafts. Of immeasurable soul, that bull among men, viz., thy son, filled with the desire to retaliate, and smiling the while, pierced the prince of Pancala with five and twenty arrows. Of immeasurable soul and filled with the desire to retaliate, thy son once more pierced the prince of Pancala with sixty shafts and once again with five, and uttered a loud roar. Then the king, with a sharp razor-faced arrow, cut off, in that battle, O sire, the bow with arrow fixed thereon and the leathern fence of his antagonist. Casting aside that broken bow, the prince of Pancala, that crusher of foes, quickly took up another bow that was new and capable of bearing a great strain. Blazing with impetuosity, and with eyes red as blood from rage, the great bowman Dhrishtadyumna, with many wounds on his person looked resplendent on his car. Desirous of slaying Duryodhana, O chief of the Bharatas, the Pancala hero sped five and ten cloth-yard shafts that resembled hissing snakes. Those shafts, whetted on stone and equipped with the feathers of Kankas and peacocks, cutting through the armour decked with gold of the king passed through his body and entered the Earth in consequence of the force with which they had been shot. Deeply pierced, O monarch, thy son looked exceedingly beautiful like a gigantic Kinsuka in the season of spring with its flowery weight. His armour pierced with those shafts, and all his limbs rendered exceedingly infirm with wounds, he became filled with rage and cut off Dhrishtadyumna's bow, with a broad-headed arrow. Having cut off his assailant's bow the king then, O monarch, with great speed, struck him with ten shafts on the forehead between the two eyebrows. Those shafts, polished by the hands of the smith, adorned Dhrishtadyumna's face like a number of bees, desirous of honey, adorning a full-blown lotus. Throwing aside that broken bow, the high-souled Dhrishtadyumna quickly took up another, and with it, sixteen broad-headed arrows. With five he slew the four steeds and the driver of Duryodhana, and he cut off with another his bow decked with gold. With the remaining ten shafts, the son of Prishata cut off the car with the upashkara, the umbrella, the dart, the sword, the mace, and the standard of thy son. Indeed, all the kings beheld the beautiful standard of the Kuru king, decked with golden Angadas and bearing the device of an elephant worked in jewels, cut off by the prince of the Pancalas. Then the uterine brothers of Duryodhana, O bull of Bharata's race, rescued the carless Duryodhana who had all his weapons, besides, cut off in that battle. In the very sight of Dhrishtadyumna, Durdhara, O monarch, causing that ruler of men to ride upon his car quickly bore him away from the battle. "'Meanwhile the mighty Karna, having vanquished Satyaki and desirous of rescuing the (Kuru) king, proceeded straight against the face of Drona's slayer, that warrior of fierce shafts. The grandson of Sini, however, quickly pursued him from behind, striking him with his arrows, like an elephant pursuing a rival and striking him at the hinder limbs with his tusks. Then, O Bharata, fierce became the battle that raged between the high-souled warriors of the two armies, in the space that intervened between Karna and the son of Prishata. Not a single combatant of either the Pandavas nor ourselves turned his face from the battle. Then Karna proceeded against the Pancalas with great speed. At that hour when the Sun had ascended the meridian, great slaughter, O best of men, of elephants and steeds and men, took place on both sides. The Pancalas, O king, inspired with the desire of victory, all rushed with speed against Karna like birds towards a tree. The son of Adhiratha, of great energy, filled with rage, began from their front to strike those Pancalas, with the keen points of his shafts, singling out their leaders, viz., Vyaghraketu and Susharma and Citra and Ugrayudha and Jaya and Sukla and Rochamana and the invincible Singhasena. Those heroes, speedily advancing with their cars, encompassed that foremost of men, and poured their shafts upon that angry warrior, viz., Karna, that ornament of battle. That foremost of men endued with great valour, viz., the son of Radha, afflicted those eight heroes engaged in battle with eight keen shafts. The Suta's son possessed of great prowess, O king, then slew many thousands of other warriors skilled in fight. Filled with rage, the son of Radha then slew Jishnu, and Jishnukarman, and Devapi, O king, in that battle, and Citra, and Citrayudha, and Hari, and Singhaketu and Rochamana and the great car-warrior Salabha, and many car-warriors among the Cedis bathed the form of Adhiratha's son in blood, while he himself was engaged in taking the lives of those heroes. There, O Bharata, elephants, assailed with arrows by Karna, fled away on all sides in fear and caused a great agitation on the field of battle. Others assailed with the shafts of Karna, uttered diverse cries, and fell down like mountains riven with thunder. With the fallen bodies of elephants and steeds and men and with fallen cars, the Earth became strewn along the track of Karna's car. Indeed, neither Bhishma, nor Drona, nor any other warrior of thy army had ever achieved such feats as were then achieved by Karna in that battle. Amongst elephants, amongst steeds, amongst cars and amongst men, the Suta's son caused a very great carnage, O tiger among men. As a lion is seen to career fearlessly among a herd of deer, even so Karna careered fearlessly among the Pancalas. As a lion routeth a herd of terrified deer to all points of the compass, even so Karna routed those throngs of Pancala cars to all sides. As a herd of deer that have approached the jaws of a lion can never escape with life, even so those great car-warriors that approached Karna could not escape with their lives. As people are certainly burnt if they come in contact with a blazing fire, even so the Srinjayas, O Bharata, were burnt by the Karna-fire when they came in contact with it. Many warriors among the Cedis and the Pancalas, O Bharata, that were regarded as heroes, were slain by the single-handed Karna in that battle who fought with them, proclaiming his name, in every instance. Beholding the prowess of Karna, O king, I thought that a single Pancala even would not, in that battle, escape from the son of Adhiratha. Indeed, the Suta's son in that battle repeatedly routed the Pancalas. "'Beholding Karna thus slaughtering the Pancalas in that dreadful battle, King Yudhishthira the just rushed in wrath towards him; Dhrishtadyumna and the sons of Draupadi also, O sire, and hundreds of warriors, encompassed that slayer of foes viz., the son of Radha. And Shikhandi, and Sahadeva, and Nakula, and Nakula's son, and Janamejaya, and the grandson of Sini, and innumerable Prabhadrakas, all endued with immeasurable energy, advancing with Dhrishtadyumna in their van, looked magnificent as they struck Karna with shafts and diverse weapons. Like Garuda falling upon a large number of snakes, the son of Adhiratha, singlehanded, fell upon all those Cedis and Pancalas and Pandavas in that encounter. The battle that took place between them and Karna, O monarch, became exceedingly fierce like that which had occurred in days of old between the gods and the Danavas. Like the Sun dispelling the surrounding darkness, Karna fearlessly and alone encountered all those great bowmen united together and pouring upon him repeated showers of arrows. While the son of Radha was thus engaged with the Pandavas, Bhimasena, filled with rage, began to slaughter the Kurus with shafts, every one of which resembled the lord of Yama. That great bowman, fighting single-handed with the Bahlikas, and the Kaikayas, the Matsyas, the Vasatas, the Madras, and Saindhavas, looked exceedingly resplendent. There, elephants, assailed in their vital limbs by Bhima with his cloth-yard shafts fell down, with their riders slain, making the Earth tremble with the violence of their fall. Steeds also, with their riders slain, and foot-soldiers deprived of life, lay down, pierced with arrows and vomiting blood in large quantities. Car-warriors in thousands fell down, their weapons loosened from their hands. Inspired with the fear of Bhima, they lay deprived of life, their bodies mangled with wounds. The Earth became strewn with car-warriors and horsemen and elephant-men and drivers and foot-soldiers and steeds and elephants all mangled with the shafts of Bhimasena. The army of Duryodhana, O king, cheerless and mangled and afflicted with the fear of Bhimasena, stood as if stupefied. Indeed that melancholy host stood motionless in that dreadful battle like the Ocean, O king, during a calm in autumn. Stupefied, that host stood even like the Ocean in calm. However endued with wrath and energy and might, the army of thy son then, divested of its pride, lost all its splendour. Indeed, thy host, whilst thus being slaughtered became drenched with gore and seemed to bathe in blood. The combatants, O chief of the Bharatas, drenched with blood, were seen to approach and slaughter one another. The Suta's son, filled with rage, routed the Pandava division, while Bhimasena in rage routed the Kurus. And both of them, while thus employed, looked exceedingly resplendent. During the progress of that fierce battle filling the spectators with wonder, Arjuna, that foremost of various persons, having slain a large number of samsaptakas in the midst of their array, addressed Vasudeva, saying, "This struggling force of samsaptakas, O Janardana, is broken. Those great car-warriors amongst the samsaptakas are flying away with their followers, unable to bear my shafts, like deer unable to bear the roar of the lion. The vast force of the Srinjayas also seems to break in this great battle. There that banner of the intelligent Karna, bearing the device of the elephant's rope, O Krishna, is seen in the midst of Yudhishthira's division, where he is careering with activity. The other great car-warriors (of our army) are incapable of vanquishing Karna. Thou knowest that Karna is possessed of great energy as regards prowess in battle. Proceed thither where Karna is routing our force. Avoiding (other warriors) in battle, proceed against the Suta's son, that mighty car-warrior. This is what I wish, O Krishna. Do, however, that which thou likest." Hearing these words of his, Govinda smiled, and addressing Arjuna, said, "Slay the Kauravas, O son of Pandu, without delay." Then those steeds, white as swans, urged by Govinda, and bearing Krishna and the son of Pandu penetrated thy vast force. Indeed, thy host broke on all sides as those white steeds in trappings of gold, urged by Keshava, penetrated into its midst. That ape-bannered car, the clatter of whose wheels resembled the deep roar of the clouds and whose flags waved in the air, penetrated into the host like a celestial car passing through the welkin. Keshava and Arjuna, filled with rage, and with eyes red as blood, as they penetrated, piercing through thy vast host, looked exceedingly resplendent in their splendour. Both delighting in battle, as those two heroes, challenged by the Kurus, came to the field, they looked like the twin Ashvinis invoked with proper rites in a sacrifice by the officiating priests. Filled with rage, the impetuosity of those two tigers among men increased like that of two elephants in a large forest, enraged at the claps of hunters. Having penetrated into the midst of that car-force and those bodies of horse, Phalguna careered within those divisions like the Destroyer himself, armed with the fatal noose. Beholding him put forth such prowess within his army, thy son, O Bharata, once more urged the samsaptakas against him. Thereupon, with a 1,000 cars, and 300 elephants, and 14,000 horses, and 200,000 of foot-soldiers armed with the bow, endued with great courage, of sureness of aim and conversant with all the ways of battle, the leaders of the samsaptakas rushed (from every side) towards the son of Kunti (in the great battle) covering the Pandava, O monarch, with showers of arrows from all sides. Thus covered with shafts in that battle, Partha, that grinder of hostile forces, exhibited himself in a fierce form like the Destroyer himself, armed with the noose. While engaged in slaughtering the samsaptakas, Partha became a worthy object of sight to all. Then the welkin became filled with shafts decked with gold and possessed of the effulgence of lightning that were ceaselessly short by the diadem-decked Arjuna. Indeed, everything completely shrouded with mighty shafts sped from Arjuna's arms and falling ceaselessly all around, looked resplendent, O lord, as if covered with snakes. The son of Pandu, of immeasurable soul, shot on all sides his straight shafts equipped with wings of gold and furnished with keen points. In consequence of the sound of Partha's palms, people thought that the Earth, or the vault of the welkin, or all the points of the compass, or the several oceans, or the mountains seemed to split. Having slain 10,000 Kshatriyas, Kunti's son, that mighty car-warrior, then quickly proceeded to the further wing of the samsaptakas. Repairing to that further wing which was protected by the Kambojas, Partha began to grind it forcibly with his arrows like Vasava grinding the Danavas. With broad-headed arrows he began to quickly cut off the arms, with weapons in grasp, and also the heads of foes longing to slay him. Deprived of diverse limbs, and of weapons, they began to fall down on the Earth, like trees of many boughs broken by a hurricane. While he was engaged in thus slaughtering elephants and steeds and car-warriors and foot-soldiers, the younger brother of Sudakshina (the chief of the Kambojas) began to pour showers of arrows on him. With a couple of crescent-shaped arrows, Arjuna cut off the two arms, looking like spiked maces, of his striking assailant, and then his head graced with a face as beautiful as the full moon, with a razor-headed arrow. Deprived of life, he fell down from his vehicle, his body bathed in blood, like the thunder-riven summit of a mountain of red arsenic. Indeed, people saw the tall and exceedingly handsome younger brother of Sudakshina, the chief of the Kambojas, of eyes resembling lotus petals, slain and fall down like a column of gold or like a summit of the golden Sumeru. Then commenced a battle there once more that was fierce and exceedingly wonderful. The condition of the struggling combatants varied repeatedly. Each slain with a single arrow, and combatants of the Kamboja, the Yavana, and the Saka races, fell down bathed in blood, upon which the whole field of battle became one expanse of red, O monarch. In consequence of car-warriors deprived of steeds and drivers, and steeds deprived of riders, and elephants deprived of riders, and riders deprived of elephants, battling with one another, O king, a great carnage took place. When the wing and the further wing of the samsaptakas had thus been exterminated by Savyasaci, the son of Drona quickly proceeded against Arjuna, that foremost of victorious warriors. Indeed, Drona's son rushed, shaking his formidable bow, and taking with him many terrible arrows like the Sun himself appearing with his own rays. With mouth wide open from rage and with the desire to retaliate, and with red eyes, the mighty Ashvatthama looked formidable like death himself, armed with his mace and filled with wrath as at the end of the Yuga. He then shot showers of fierce shafts. With those shafts sped by him, he began to rout the Pandava army. As soon as he beheld him of Dasharha's race (Keshava) on the car, O king, he once more sped at him, and repeated showers of fierce shafts. With those falling shafts, O monarch, sped by Drona's son, both Krishna and Dhananjaya were completely shrouded on the car. Then the valiant Ashvatthama, with hundreds of keen arrows, stupefied both Madhava and the son of Pandu in that battle. Beholding those two protectors of all mobile and immobile creatures thus covered with arrows, the universe of mobile and immobile beings uttered cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" Crowds of Siddhas and Charanas began to repair to that spot from every side, mentally uttering this prayer, viz., "Let good be to all the worlds." Never before, O king, did I see prowess like that of Drona's son in that battle while he was engaged in shrouding the two Krishnas with shafts. The sound of Ashvatthama's bow, inspiring foes with terror, was repeatedly heard by us in that battle, O king, to resemble that of a roaring lion. While careering in that battle and striking right and left the string of his bow looked beautiful like flashes of lightning in the midst of a mass of clouds. Though endued with great firmness and lightness of hand the son of Pandu, for all that, beholding the son of Drona then, became greatly stupefied. Indeed, Arjuna then regarded his own prowess to be destroyed by his high-souled assailant. The form of Ashvatthama became such in that battle that men could with difficulty gaze at it. During the progress of that dreadful battle between Drona's son and the Pandava, during that time when the mighty son of Drona, O monarch, thus prevailed over his antagonist and the son of Kunti lost his energy, Krishna became filled with rage. Inspired with wrath he drew deep breaths, O king, and seemed to burn with his eyes both Ashvatthama and Phalguna as he looked at them repeatedly. Filled with rage, Krishna addressed Partha in an affectionate tone, saying, "This, O Partha, that I behold in battle regarding thee, is exceedingly strange, since Drona's son, O Partha, surpasseth thee today! Hast thou not now the energy and the might of thy arms thou hadst before? Hast thou not that Gandiva still in thy hands, and dost thou not stay on thy car now? Are not thy two arms sound? Hath thy fist suffered any hurt? Why is it then that I see the son of Drona prevail over thee in battle? Do not, O Partha, spare thy assailant, regarding him as the son of thy preceptor, O bull of Bharata's race. This is not the time for sparing him." Thus addressed by Krishna, Partha speedily took up four and ten broad-headed arrows at a time, when speed was of the highest moment, and with them he cut off Ashvatthama's bow and standard and umbrella and banners and car and dart and mace. With a few calf-toothed arrows he then deeply struck the son of Drona in the latter's shoulder. Thereupon overcome with a deep swoon, Ashvatthama sat down, supporting himself on his flagstaff. The latter's driver then, O monarch, desirous of protecting him from Dhananjaya, bore him away insensible and thus deeply afflicted by the foe. Meanwhile that scorcher of foes, viz., Vijaya, slaughtered thy troops by hundreds and thousands, in the very sight of that hero, viz., thy son, O sire. Thus, O king, in consequence of thy evil counsels, a cruel and awful destruction and carnage commenced as thy warriors were engaged with the enemy. Within a short time Vibhatsu routed the samsaptakas, Vrikodara, the Kurus, and Vasusena, the Pancalas. During the progress of the battle destructive of great heroes, there rose many headless trunks all around. Meanwhile Yudhishthira, O chief of the Bharatas, in great pain owing to his wounds, retreating about two miles from the battle, rested himself for some time.'" 57 "Sanjaya said, 'Then Duryodhana, O chief of Bharatas, repairing to Karna, said unto him as also unto the ruler of the Madras and the other lords of Earth present there, these words, "Without seeking hath this occasion arrived, when the gates of heaven have become wide open. Happy are those Kshatriyas, O Karna, that obtain such a battle. Brave heroes fighting in battle with brave Kshatriyas equal to them in might and prowess, obtain great good, O son of Radha. The occasion that hath come is even such. Either let these brave Kshatriyas, slaying the Pandavas in battle, obtain the broad Earth, or let them, slain in battle by the foe, win the blessed region reserved for heroes." Hearing these words of Duryodhana, those bulls among Kshatriyas cheerfully uttered loud shouts and beat and blew their musical instruments. When Duryodhana's force became thus filled with joy, the son of Drona, gladdening all thy warriors further said, "In the very sight of all the troops, and before the eyes of you all, my father after he had laid aside his weapons, was slain by Dhrishtadyumna. By that wrath which such an act might kindle, and for the sake also of my friend, ye kings, I swear truly before you all. Listen then to that oath of mine. Without slaying Dhrishtadyumna I shall not doff my armour. If this vow of mine be not fulfilled, let me not go to heaven. Be it Arjuna, be it Bhimasena, or be it anybody else, whoever will come against me I will crush him or all of them. There is no doubt in this." After Ashvatthama had uttered these words, the entire Bharata army, united together, rushed against the Pandavas, and the latter also rushed against the former. The collision of brave leaders of car-divisions, O Bharata, became exceedingly awful. A destruction of life then set in at the van of the Kurus and the Srinjayas, that resembled what takes place at the last great universal dissolution. Upon the commencement of that passage-at-arms, various (superior) beings, with the gods, came there accompanied by the Apsaras, for beholding those foremost of men. Filled with joy, the Apsaras began to cover those foremost of men devoted to the duties of their order, with celestial garlands, with diverse kinds of celestial perfumes, and with diverse species of gems. Soft winds bore those excellent odours to the nostrils of all the foremost of warriors. Having smelt those perfumes in consequence of the action of the wind, the warriors once more engaged in battle, and striking one another began to fall down on the Earth. Strewn with celestial flowers, with beautiful shafts equipped with wings of gold, and with many foremost of warriors, the Earth looked beautiful like the firmament bespangled with myriads of stars. Then in consequence of cheers coming from the welkin and the noise of musical instruments, the furious passage-at-arms distinguished by twang of bows and clatter of car-wheels and shouts of warriors became exceedingly fierce.'" 58 "Sanjaya said, 'Thus raged that great battle between those lords of Earth when Arjuna and Karna and Bhimasena, the son of Pandu became angry. Having vanquished the son of Drona, and other great car-warriors, Arjuna, O king, addressing Vasudeva, said, "Behold, O Krishna of mighty arms, the Pandava army is flying away. Behold, Karna is slaying our great car-warriors in this battle. I do not, O thou of Dasaratha's race, see king Yudhishthira the just. Nor is the standard of Dharma's son, foremost of warriors, visible. The third part of the day still remaineth, Janardana. No one amongst the Dhartarashtras cometh against me for fight. For doing, therefore, what is agreeable to me, proceed to the spot where Yudhishthira is. Beholding Dharma's son safe and sound with his younger brothers in battle, I will again fight with the foe, O thou of Vrishni's race." At these words of Vibhatsu, Hari (Krishna) quickly proceeded on that car to that spot where king Yudhishthira, along with the mighty Srinjaya car-warriors of great strength, were fighting with the foe, making death their goal. During the progress of that great carnage, Govinda, beholding the field of battle, addressed Savyasaci, saying, "Behold, O Partha, how great and awful is this carnage, O Bharata, of Kshatriyas on Earth for the sake of Duryodhana. Behold, O Bharata, the gold-backed bows of slain warriors, as also their costly quivers displaced from their shoulders. Behold those straight shafts equipped with wings of gold, and those clothyard arrows washed with oil and looking like snakes freed from their sloughs. Behold, O Bharata, those scimitars, decked with gold, and having ivory handles, and those displaced shields embossed with gold. Behold those lances decked with gold, those darts having golden ornaments, and those huge maces twined round with gold. Behold those swords adorned with gold, those axes with golden ornaments, and the heads of those battle-axes fallen off from their golden handles. Behold those iron Kuntas, those short clubs exceedingly heavy, those beautiful rockets, those huge bludgeons with spiked heads, those discs displaced from the arms of their wielders, and those spears (that have been used) in this dreadful battle. Endued (while living) with great activity, warriors that came to battle, having taken up diverse weapons, are lying, though deprived of life, as if still alive. Behold, thousands of warriors lying on the field, with limbs crushed by means of maces, or heads broken by means of heavy clubs, or torn and mangled by elephants and steeds and cars. The field of battle is covered with shafts and darts and swords and axes and scimitars and spiked maces and lances and iron Kuntas and battle-axes, and the bodies of men and steeds and elephants, hacked with many wounds and covered with streams of blood and deprived of life, O slayer of foes. The Earth looks beautiful, O Bharata, with arms smeared with sandal, decked with Angadas of gold and with Keyuras, and having their ends cased in leathern fences. With hands cased in leathern fences, with displaced ornaments, with severed thighs looking like elephants' trunks of many active warriors, with fallen heads, decked with costly gems and earrings, of heroes having large expansive eyes, the Earth looks exceedingly beautiful. With headless trunks smeared all over with blood with severed limbs and heads and hips, the Earth looks, O best of the Bharatas, like an altar strewn with extinguished fires. Behold those beautiful cars with rows of golden bells, broken in diverse ways, and those slain steeds lying scattered on the field, with arrows yet sticking to their bodies. Behold those bottoms of cars, those quivers, those banners, those diverse kinds of standards, those gigantic conchs of car-warriors, white in hue and scattered all over the field. Behold those elephants, huge as hills, lying on the Earth, with tongues lolling out, and those other elephants and steeds, deprived of life and decked with triumphal banners. Behold those housings of elephants, and those skins and blankets, and those other beautiful and variegated and torn blankets. Behold those rows of bells torn and broken in diverse ways in consequence of falling elephants of gigantic size, and those beautiful goads set with stones of lapis lazuli, and those hooks falling upon the ground. Behold those whips, adorned with gold, and variegated with gems, still in the grasp of (slain) horsemen, and those blankets and skins of the Ranku deer falling on the ground but which had served for seats on horse back. Behold those gems for adorning the diadems of kings, and those beautiful necklaces of gold, and those displaced umbrellas and yak-tails for fanning. Behold the Earth, miry with blood, strewn with the faces of heroes, decked with beautiful earrings and well-cut beards and possessed of the splendour of the moon and stars. Behold those wounded warriors in whom life is not yet extinct and who, lying all around, are uttering wails of woe. Their relatives, O prince, casting aside their weapons are tending them, weeping incessantly. Having covered many warriors with arrows and deprived them of life, behold those combatants, endued with activity longing for victory, and swelling with rage, are once more proceeding for battle against their antagonists. Others are running hither and thither on the field. Being begged for water by fallen heroes, others related to them have gone in quest of drink. Many, O Arjuna, are breathing their last meanwhile. Returning their brave relatives, seeing them become senseless are throwing down the water they brought and are running wildly, shouting at one another. Behold, many have died after having slaked their thirst, and many, O Bharata, are dying while drinking. Others, though affectionate towards relatives, are still seen to rush towards foes in great battle deserting their dear relatives. Others, again, O best of men, biting their nether lips, and with faces rendered terrible in consequence of the contraction of their brows, are surveying the field all around." While saying these words unto Arjuna, Vasudeva proceeded towards Yudhishthira. Arjuna also, beholding the king in that great battle, repeatedly urged Govinda, saying, "Proceed, Proceed." Having shown the field of battle to Partha, Madhava, while proceeding quickly, slowly said unto Partha once more, "Behold those kings rushing towards king Yudhishthira. Behold Karna, who resembles a blazing fire, on the arena of the battle. Yonder the mighty-bowman Bhima is proceeding to battle. They that are the foremost among the Pancalas, the Srinjayas, and the Pandavas--they, that is, that have Dhrishtadyumna for their head, are following Bhima. The vast army of the enemy is again broken by the rushing Parthas. Behold, O Arjuna, Karna is trying to rally the flying Kauravas. Resembling the Destroyer himself in impetuosity and Indra himself in prowess, yonder proceedeth Drona's son, O thou of Kuru's race, that hero who is the foremost of all wielders of weapons. The mighty car-warrior Dhrishtadyumna is rushing against that hero. The Srinjayas are following the lead of Dhristadyumna. Behold, the Srinjayas are falling." Thus did the invincible Vasudeva describe everything unto the diadem-decked Arjuna. Then, O king, commenced a terrible and awful battle. Loud leonine shouts arose as the two hosts encountered each other, O monarch, making death their goal. Even thus, O king, in consequence of thy evil counsels, did that destruction set in on Earth, O lord of Earth, of both thy warriors and those of the enemy.'" 59 "Sanjaya said, 'Then the Kurus and the Srinjayas once more fearlessly encountered each other in battle, the Parthas being headed by Yudhishthira, and ourselves headed by the Suta's son. Then commenced a terrible battle, making the hair to stand on end, between Karna and the Pandavas, that increased the population of Yama's kingdom. After that furious battle, producing rivers of blood, had commenced, and when a remnant only of the brave samsaptakas, O Bharata, were left unslaughtered, Dhrishtadyumna, O monarch, with all the kings (on the Pandava side) and those mighty car-warriors--the Pandavas themselves, all rushed against Karna only. Like the mountain receiving a vast body of water, Karna, unaided by anyone, received in that battle all those advancing warriors filled with joy and longing for victory. Those mighty car-warriors encountering Karna, were beat off and broken like a mass of water, and beat back on all sides when it encounters a mountain. The battle, however, that took place between them and Karna made the hair stand on end. Then Dhrishtadyumna assailed the son of Radha with a straight shaft in that battle, and addressing him said, "Wait, Wait." The mighty car-warrior Karna, filled with rage, shook his foremost of bows called Vijaya, and cutting off the bow of Dhrishtadyumna, as also his arrows resembling snakes of virulent poison assailed Dhrishtadyumna himself with nine arrows. Those arrows, O sinless one, piercing through the gold-decked armour of the high-souled son of Prishata, became bathed in blood and looked beautiful like so many cochineal. The mighty car-warrior Dhrishtadyumna, casting aside that broken bow, took up another bow and a number of shafts resembling snakes of virulent poison. With those straight shafts numbering seventy, he pierced Karna. Similarly, O king, Karna, in that battle, covered Prishata's son, that scorcher of foes, with many shafts resembling snakes of virulent poison. The slayer of Drona, that great bowman, retaliated by piercing Karna with many keen shafts. Filled with rage, Karna then, O monarch, sped at his antagonist a gold-decked shaft that resembled a second rod of death. That terrible shaft, O monarch, as it coursed impetuously towards Prishata's son, the grandson of Sini, O king, cut off into seven fragments, displaying great lightness of hand. Beholding his shaft baffled by the arrows of Satyaki, O king, Karna resisted Satyaki with showers of arrows from every side. And he pierced Satyaki in that encounter with seven clothyard shafts. The grandson of Sini, however, pierced him in return with many arrows decked with gold. The battle then that took place, O king, between those two warriors was such as to fill both spectators and listeners with fear. Though awful, soon it became beautiful and deserving objects of sight. Beholding the feats, in that encounter, of Karna and the grandson of Sini, the hair of all the creatures there present seemed to stand on end. Meanwhile the mighty son of Drona rushed against Prishata's son, that chastiser of foes and queller of the prowess of all enemies. Filled with rage, Drona's son, that subjugator of hostile towns, addressing Dhrishtadyumna, said, "Wait, wait, O slayer of a Brahmana, thou shalt not escape me today with life." Having said these words, that mighty car-warrior of great lightness of hand striving resolutely, deeply pierced the brave son of Prishata, who also strove to the utmost of his prowess, with many keen and terrible shafts endued with great impetuosity. As Drona (while alive), beholding the son of Prishata, O sire, had become cheerless and regarded him as his death, even so the son of Prishata, that slayer of hostile heroes, beholding Drona's son in that battle, now regarded him as his death. Soon, however, remembering that he was unslayable in battle by means of weapons, he rushed with great speed against Drona's son, like the Destroyer running against the Destroyer at the time of the universal dissolution. Drona's heroic son, however, O monarch, beholding Dhrishtadyumna stationed before him, drew deep breaths, in wrath, and rushed towards him. Both of them were filled with great rage at the sight of each other. Endued with great activity, the valiant son of Drona then, O monarch, said these words unto Dhrishtadyumna staying not far from him, "O wretch amongst the Pancalas, I shall today despatch thee to Yama. The sin thou hast committed before by slaying Drona will fill thee today with regret, to thy great evil, if thou stayest in battle without being protected by Partha, or if thou dost not fly away, O fool, I tell thee truly." Thus addressed, the valiant Dhrishtadyumna replied, saying, "That same sword of mine which answered thy sire, resolutely engaged in battle, will today answer this speech of thine. If Drona could be slain by me, O thou that art a Brahmana in name only, why should I not then, putting forth my prowess, slay thee also in battle today?" Having said these words, the wrathful commander of the Pandava forces, viz., the son of Prishata, pierced Drona's son with a keen arrow. Then Drona's son filled with great rage, shrouded every side of Dhrishtadyumna, O king, in that battle, with straight arrows. Shrouded with thousands of arrows, neither the welkin, nor the points of the compass, nor the combatants all around, could, O monarch, be any longer seen. Similarly, the son of Prishata, O king, shrouded Drona's son, that ornament of battle, with arrows, in the very sight of Karna. The son of Radha, too, O monarch, singly resisted the Pancalas and the Pandavas and the (five) sons of Draupadi and Yudhamanyu and the mighty car-warrior Satyaki, in consequence of which feat he became the cynosure of all eyes. Then Dhrishtadyumna in that battle cut off the very tough and formidable bow of Drona's son, as also all his arrows resembling snakes of virulent poison. Drona's son, however, with his arrows, destroyed within the twinkling of an eye the bow, the dart, the mace, the standard, the steeds, the driver, and the car of Prishata's son. Bowless and carless and steedless and driverless, the son of Prishata then took up a huge scimitar and a blazing shield decked with a hundred moons. Endued with great lightness of hand, and possessed of mighty weapons, that mighty car-warrior, viz., the heroic son of Drona, O king, quickly cut off, in that battle, with many broad-headed arrows, those weapons also of Dhrishtadyumna before the latter could come down from his car. All this seemed exceedingly wonderful. The mighty car-warrior Ashvatthama, however, though struggling vigorously, could not, O chief of the Bharatas, slay the carless and steedless and bowless Dhrishtadyumna, although pierced and exceedingly mangled with many arrows. When, therefore, O king, the son of Drona found that he could not slay his enemy with arrows, he laid aside his bow and quickly proceeded towards the son of Prishata. The impetuosity of that high-souled one, as he rushed towards his foe, resembled that of Garuda swooping down for seizing a large snake. Meanwhile Madhava, addressing Arjuna, said, "Behold, O Partha, how the son of Drona is rushing with great speed towards the car of Prishata's son. Without doubt, he will slay the prince. O mighty-armed one, O crusher of foes, rescue the son of Prishata, who is now within the jaws of Drona's son as if within the jaws of Death himself." Having said these words, the valiant Vasudeva urged the steeds towards that spot where Drona's son was. Those steeds, of the splendour of the moon, urged by Keshava, proceeded towards the car of Drona's son, devouring the very skies. Beholding those two of great energy, viz., Krishna and Dhananjaya, coming towards him, the mighty Ashvatthama made great efforts for slaying Dhrishtadyumna soon. Seeing Dhrishtadyumna dragged, O ruler of men, by his enemy, the mighty Partha sped many arrows at the son of Drona. Those arrows, decked with gold and sped from Gandiva, approached the son of Drona and pierced him deeply like snakes penetrating into an ant-hill. Thus pierced with those terrible arrows, the valiant son of Drona, O king, abandoned the Pancala prince of immeasurable energy. Indeed, the hero, thus afflicted with Dhananjaya's shafts, mounted on his car, and taking up his own excellent bow, began to pierce Partha with many shafts. Meanwhile, the heroic Sahadeva, O ruler of men, bore away on his car the son of Prishata, that scorcher of foes. Arjuna then, O king, pierced Drona's son with many arrows. Filled with rage, Drona's son struck Arjuna in the arms and the chest. Thus provoked, Partha, in that battle, sped at Drona's son, a long shaft that resembled a second rod of Death, or rather, Death himself. That arrow of great splendour fell upon the shoulder of the Brahmana hero. Exceedingly agitated, O monarch, in that battle, by the violence of the stroke, he sat down on the terrace of his car and swooned away. Then Karna, O monarch, shook his bow Vijaya and, filled with rage, repeatedly eyed Arjuna in that battle, desiring a single combat with him. Meanwhile the driver of Drona's son, beholding the latter senseless, quickly bore him away on his car from the field of battle. Beholding Prishata's son rescued and Drona's son afflicted, the Pancalas, O king, expectant of victory, began to utter loud shouts. Thousands of sweet instruments began to be sounded. Seeing such wonderful feats in battle, the combatants uttered leonine roars. Having achieved that feat, Partha addressed Vasudeva, saying "Proceed, O Krishna, towards the samsaptakas, for this is greatly desired by me." Hearing those words of Pandu's son, he of Dasharha's race proceeded on that car graced with many banners and whose speed resembled that of the wind or the mind.'" 60 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile Krishna, pointing out king Yudhishthira the just, unto Kunti's son Partha, addressed him in these words: "Yonder, O son of Pandu, your brother (Yudhishthira) is being pursued by many mighty and great bowmen amongst the Dhartarashtras, all inspired with the desire of slaughtering him. The mighty Pancalas, difficult of defeat in battle, are proceeding after the high-souled Yudhishthira from desire of rescuing him. Yonder, Duryodhana, O Partha, the king of the whole world, clad in mail and accompanied by a large car force, is pursuing the Pandava king. Impelled by the desire of slaughtering his rival, the mighty Duryodhana, O tiger among men, is pursuing him, accompanied by his brothers, the touch of whose weapons is as fatal as that of poisonous snakes and who are all conversant with every mode of warfare. Those Dhartarashtra elephants and horses and car-warriors and foot-soldiers are advancing to seize Yudhishthira like poor men after a precious gem. Behold, checked by Satyaki and Bhima, they have again been stupefied, like the Daityas, that desired to take away the Amrita, made motionless by Sakra and Agni. The mighty car-warriors (of the Kuru army), however, in consequence of the vastness of their numbers, are again proceeding towards Yudhishthira like a vast quantity of water in the season of rains rushing towards the ocean. Those mighty bowmen are uttering leonine roars, blowing their conchs, and shaking their bows. I regard Kunti's son Yudhishthira, thus brought under the influence of Duryodhana, to be already within the jaws of Death or already poured as a libation on the sacrificial fire. The army of Dhritarashtra's son, O Pandava, is arrayed and equipped duly. Sakra himself, coming within the range of its arrows, can scarcely escape. Who will in battle bear the impetuosity of the heroic Duryodhana who shoots showers of arrows with the greatest celerity and who, when angry, resembles the Destroyer himself? The force of the heroic Duryodhana's shafts, or Drona's son's or Kripa's or Karna's would break down the very mountains. That scorcher of foes, viz., king Yudhishthira, was once compelled by Karna to turn his back upon the field. The son of Radha is endued with great might and great lightness of hand. Possessed of great skill, he is accomplished in battle. He is competent to afflict the eldest son of Pandu in fight, specially when he is united with the mighty and brave son of Dhritarashtra. Of rigid vows, when the son of Pritha (Yudhishthira) had been engaged in battle with all those warriors, other great car-warriors had struck him and contributed to his defeat. The king, O best of the Bharatas, is exceedingly emaciated in consequence of his fasts. He is endued with Brahma-force, but the puissant one is not endued with much of Kshatriya-might. Assailed, however, by Karna, the royal son of Pandu, Yudhishthira, that scorcher of foes, hath been placed in a situation of great peril. I think, O Partha, that king Yudhishthira has fallen. Indeed, since that chastiser of foes, the wrathful Bhimasena, coolly heareth the leonine roars of the frequently shouting Dhartarashtra's longing for victory and blowing their conchs, I think, O bull among men, that Pandu's son Yudhishthira is dead. Yonder Karna urges forward the mighty car-warriors of the Dhartarashtras towards the son of Pritha with the weapons called Sthunakarna, Indrasjaha and Pasupata, and with clubs and other weapons. The king, O Bharata, must be deeply afflicted and exceedingly weakened, because the Pancalas and the Pandavas, those foremost of all wielders of weapons, are seen to proceed with great speed towards him at a time when speed is of the highest moment like strong men rushing to the rescue of a person sinking in a bottomless sea. The king's standard is no longer visible. It has probably been struck down by Karna with his shafts. In the very sight of the twins, O Partha, and of Satyaki and Shikhandi, and Dhrishtadyumna and Bhima and Satanika, O lord, as also of all the Pancalas and the Cedis, O Bharata, yonder Karna is destroying the Pandava division with his arrows, like an elephant destroying an assemblage of lotuses. There, those car-warriors of thy army, O son of Pandu, are flying away. See, see, O Partha, how those great warriors are retreating. Those elephants, O Bharata, assailed by Karna in battle, are flying away in all directions, uttering cries of pain. There those crowds of car-warriors, routed in battle, O Partha, by Karna, that crusher of foes, are flying away in all directions. Behold, O Partha, that foremost of standards, of the Suta's son, on his car, bearing the device of the elephant's rope, is seen to move all over the field. There, the son of Radha is now rushing against Bhimasena, scattering hundreds of shafts as he proceeds and slaughtering thy army therewith. There, those mighty car-warriors of the Pancalas are being routed (by Karna) even as the Daityas had been routed by Sakra in dreadful battle. There, Karna, having vanquished the Pancalas, the Pandus, and the Srinjayas, is casting his eyes on all sides, I think, for seeking thee. Behold, O Partha, Karna, as he beautifully draws his foremost of bows, looketh exceedingly beautiful even as Sakra in the midst of the celestials, after vanquishing his foes. There the Kauravas, beholding the prowess of Karna, are roaring and inspiring the Pandus and the Srinjayas with fear on every side. There, Karna himself, terrifying the Pandus with his whole soul, in dreadful battle, is addressing all the troops, O giver of honours, saying, 'Blessed be ye, advance, ye Kauravas and rush with such speed that no Srinjaya may, in this battle escape with life. United together, do this all of you. As regards ourselves, we will follow behind you.' Saying these words, he is advancing behind (his troops), scattering his shafts. Behold Karna, adorned with his white umbrella in this battle and looking like the Udaya hills adorned by the moon. With his beautiful umbrella of a hundred ribs, resembling the moon in full, held over his head, O Bharata, in this battle, Karna, O prince, is casting his glances after thee. Without doubt, he will, in this battle, come hither, with great speed. Behold him, O mighty-armed one, as he shaketh his formidable bow and shooteth, in this dreadful battle, his shafts resembling snakes of virulent poison. There, the son of Radha turneth towards this direction, beholding thy banner bearing the ape, and desiring, O Partha, an encounter with thee, O scorcher of foes. Indeed, he cometh for his own destruction, even like an insect into the mouth of a lamp. Wrathful and brave, he is ever engaged in the good of Dhritarashtra's son. Of wicked understanding, he is always unable to put up with thee. Beholding Karna alone and unsupported, Dhritarashtra's son, O Bharata, turneth towards him with great resolution, accompanied by his car-force, for protecting him. Let that wicked-souled one, along with all those allies of his, be slain by thee, putting forth thy vigour, from desire of winning fame, kingdom and happiness. Both of you are endued with great strength. Both of you are possessed of great celebrity. When encountering each other in battle, O Partha, like a celestial and a Danava in the great battle between the gods and the Asuras, let all the Kauravas behold thy prowess. Beholding thee filled with great rage and Karna also excited to fury, O bull of Bharata's race, Duryodhana in wrath will not be able to do anything. Remembering thyself to be of purified soul, O bull of Bharata's race, and remembering also that the son of Radha harboureth a great animosity for the virtuous Yudhishthira, achieve that, O son of Kunti, which should now be achieved. Righteously setting thy heart on battle, advance against that leader of car-warriors. There, five hundred foremost of car-warriors, O thou best of car-warriors, that are endued with great might and fierce energy, and 5,000 elephants, and twice as many horses, and innumerable foot-soldiers, all united together, O son of Kunti, and protecting one another, O hero, are advancing against thee. Show thyself, of thy own will, unto that great bowman, viz., the Suta's son. Advance, O bull of Bharata's race, towards him with great speed. There, Karna, filled with great wrath is rushing against the Pancalas. I see his standard approaching towards the car of Dhrishtadyumna. I think he will exterminate the Pancalas. I will tell thee, O bull of Bharata's race, some good news, O Partha. King Yudhishthira the just is living. There, the mighty-armed Bhima, having returned, is stationed at the head of the army, supported by the Srinjayas and by Satyaki, O Bharata. There, the Kauravas are being slaughtered with keen shafts by Bhimasena, O son of Kunti, and the high-souled Pancalas. The troops of Dhritarashtra's son, with their faces turned from the field, and with blood streaming down from their wounds, are speedily flying away from battle, struck by Bhima with his shafts. Bathed in blood, the Bharata army, O chief of Bharata's race, presents an exceedingly cheerless aspect like that of the Earth when divested of crops. Behold, O son of Kunti, Bhimasena, that foremost of combatants, filled with rage like a snake of virulent poison, and engaged in routing the (Kaurava) host. Yellow and red and black and white banners, adorned with stars and moons and suns as also many umbrellas, O Arjuna, lie scattered about. Made of gold or silver or brass and other metals, standards are lying about, and elephants and steeds also, scattered all over the field. There, those car-warriors are falling from their cars, deprived of life by the unreturning Pancalas with shafts of diverse kinds. There the Pancalas of great speed, O Dhananjaya, are rushing against the riderless Dhartarashtra elephants and steeds and cars. Reckless of their very lives, O chastiser of foes, those warriors, difficult of defeat in battle aided by the might of Bhimasena are crushing, O tiger among men, the hostile force. There, the Pancalas are uttering loud roars and blowing their conchs as they are rushing against their foes and crushing them with their shafts in battle. Behold their great energy and power. Through sheer valour, the Pancalas are slaughtering the Dhartarashtras like angry lions slaying elephants. Unarmed they are snatching the weapons of their armed foes and with those weapons thus snatched, they are slaying their foes that are effectual smiters, and uttering loud roars. The heads and arms of their foes are being struck off and felled on the field. The Pancala cars and elephants and horses are all worthy of the highest praise. Like swans of great speed leaving the Manasa lake and rushing into the Ganga, the Pancalas are rushing against the Kauravas, and every part of the vast Dhartarashtra force is assailed by them. Like bulls resisting bulls, the heroic Kripa and Karna and other leaders are putting forth all their valour for resisting the Pancalas. The Pancala heroes headed by Dhrishtadyumna are slaying thousands of their foes, viz., the great car-warriors of the Dhartarashtra army already sinking in the ocean of Bhima's weapons. Beholding the Pancalas overwhelmed by their foes, the fearless son of the Wind-god, assailing the hostile force, is shooting his shafts and uttering loud roars. The greater portion of the vast Dhartarashtra army has become exceedingly frightened. Behold those elephants, pierced by Bhima with his cloth-yard shafts, are falling down like mountain summits riven by the thunderbolt of Indra. There, those huge elephants, deeply pierced with the straight shafts of Bhimasena are flying away, crushing their own ranks. Dost thou not recognise the unbearable leonine shouts, O Arjuna, of the terribly-roaring Bhimasena inspired with desire of victory in battle? There, the prince of the Nishadas, filled with rage, is coming against the son of Pandu, on his foremost of elephants, from desire of slaying him with his lances, even like Destroyer himself armed with his bludgeon. Struck by Bhima with ten keen cloth-yard shafts endued with the splendour of the fire or the Sun, the two arms of the roaring prince, with lances in grasp, are lopped off. Slaying the prince, Bhima proceedeth against other elephants looking like masses of blue clouds and ridden by riders guiding them with skill. Behold those riders striking Vrikodara with darts and lances in profusion. Slaying with his keen shafts those elephants, seven at a time, their triumphal standards also, O Partha, are cut down by thy elder brother. As regards those other elephants, each of them is being slain with ten shafts by him. The shouts of the Dhartarashtras are no longer heard, now that Bhima, O bull of Bharata's race, who is equal to Purandara himself, is engaged in battle. Full three Akshauhinis of Duryodhana's soldiers had been assembled together (in front of Bhima). They have all been checked by that lion among men, Bhimasena, in wrath."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Behold that feat, difficult of accomplishment, achieved by Bhimasena. Arjuna, with his keen shafts, destroyed the remnant of his foes. The mighty samsaptakas, O lord, slaughtered in battle and routed (by Arjuna), fled away in all directions, overcome with fear. Many amongst them (that fell) became the guests of Shakra and attained to great happiness. As regards Partha, that tiger among men, he continued, with his straight shafts, to slaughter the Dhartarashtra host consisting of four kinds of forces.'" 61 "Dhritarashtra said, 'When Bhima and Pandu's son Yudhishthira were engaged in battle, when my troops were being slaughtered by the Pandus and the Srinjayas, when, indeed, my vast army being broken and routed repeatedly became cheerless, tell me, O Sanjaya, what the Kauravas did.' "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the mighty-armed Bhima, the Suta's son of great valour, with eyes red in wrath, O king, rushed towards him. Seeing thy army fly away from Bhimasena, the mighty Karna, O king, rallied it with great efforts. The mighty-armed Karna, having rallied thy son's host, proceeded against the Pandavas, those heroes difficult of defeat in battle. The great car-warriors of the Pandavas also, shaking their bows and shooting their shafts, proceeded against the son of Radha. Bhimasena, and the grandson of Sini, and Shikhandi and Janamejaya, and Dhrishtadyumna of great strength, and all the Prabhadrakas, and those tigers among men, the Pancalas, filled with rage and inspired with desire of victory, rushed in that battle from every side against thy army. Similarly, the great car-warriors of thy army, O king, quickly proceeded against the Pandava host, desirous of slaughtering it. Teeming with cars and elephants and horses, and abounding with foot-soldiers and standards, the two armies then, O tiger among men, assumed a wonderful aspect. Shikhandi proceeded against Karna, and Dhrishtadyumna proceeded against thy son Duhshasana, accompanied by a large force. Nakula proceeded against Vrishasena, while Yudhishthira against Citrasena. Sahadeva, O king, in that battle, proceeded against Uluka. Satyaki proceeded against Shakuni, and the sons of Draupadi against the other Kauravas. The mighty car-warrior Ashvatthama proceeded, with great care, against Arjuna. Sharadvata's son Kripa proceeded against the mighty bowman Yudhamanyu, while Kritavarma of great strength proceeded against Uttamauja. The mighty-armed Bhimasena, O sire, alone and unsupported, resisted all the Kurus and thy sons at the head of their division. The slayer of Bhishma, Shikhandi, then, O monarch, with his winged arrows, resisted Karna, careering fearlessly in that battle. Held in check, Karna then, his lips trembling in rage, assailed Shikhandi with three arrows in the midst of his eyebrows. With those three arrows sticking on his forehead, Shikhandi looked highly beautiful like a silver mountain with three elevated crests. Deeply pierced by the Suta's son in that encounter, the mighty bowman Shikhandi pierced Karna, in return, with ninety keen shafts. The mighty car-warrior Karna then, slaying Shikhandi's steeds and next his driver with three arrows, cut off his standard with a razor-faced arrow. That mighty car-warrior then, that scorcher of foes, filled with rage, jumped down from his steedless car and hurled a dart at Karna. Cutting off that dart with three shafts in that encounter, Karna then, O Bharata, pierced Shikhandi with nine keen arrows. Avoiding then the shafts sped from Karna's bow, that best of men, Shikhandi, exceedingly mangled, retreated speedily from that spot. Then Karna, O monarch, began to scatter the troops of the Pandavas, like a mighty wind scattering a heap of cotton. Meanwhile Dhrishtadyumna, O monarch, afflicted by thy son, pierced Duhshasana, in return, with three arrows in the centre of the chest. Then Duhshasana, O sire, pierced his assailant's left arm with a broad-headed shaft, sharp and straight and equipped with wings of gold. Thus pierced, Dhrishtadyumna, filled with wrath and the desire to retaliate, sped a terrible shaft, O Bharata, at Duhshasana. Thy son, however, O king, with three shafts of his, cut off that impetuous arrow sped by Dhrishtadyumna as it coursed towards him. Approaching Dhrishtadyumna then, he struck him in the arms and the chest with seventeen other broad-headed shafts adorned with gold. Thereat Prishata's son, filled with rage, cut off Duhshasana's bow, O sire, with a sharp razor-headed arrow, at which all the troops there uttered a loud shout. Taking up then another bow, thy son, as if smiling, held Dhrishtadyumna in check with showers of arrows from every side. Beholding the prowess of that high-souled son of thine, the combatants, as also the Siddhas and the Apsaras, became all filled with wonder. We then saw the mighty Dhrishtadyumna thus assailed by Duhshasana to resemble a huge elephant, held in check by a lion. Then many Pancala car-warriors and elephants and horses, O elder brother of Pandu, desirous of rescuing the commander (of the Pandava army) encompassed thy son. The battle that commenced, O scorcher of foes, between thy warriors and the enemy, presented as frightful a sight as that which may be seen at the destruction of all creatures at the end of the Yuga. "'Vrishasena, staying by the side of his father, having pierced Nakula with five arrows made wholly of iron, pierced him once again with three other arrows. The heroic Nakula then, as if smiling, deeply pierced Vrishasena in the chest with a cloth-yard shaft of great keenness. Thus pierced by his mighty foe, that scorcher of foes, viz., Vrishasena, pierced his assailant with twenty arrows and was himself pierced by him with five. Then those two bulls among men shrouded each other with thousands of arrows, at which the divisions that supported them broke. Beholding the troops of Dhritarashtra's son flying away, the Suta's son, following them, O king, began to forcibly stop them. After Karna had gone away, Nakula proceeded against the Kauravas. Karna's son also, avoiding Nakula, proceeded quickly, O sire, to where his father, the son of Radha, was for protecting his car-wheel. "'The angry Uluka was held in check by Sahadeva. Having slain his four steeds, the valiant Sahadeva then despatched his foe's driver to the abode of Yama. Uluka then, that delighter of his father, jumping down from his car, O king, quickly proceeded and entered the division of the Trigartas. Satyaki, having pierced Shakuni with twenty keen arrows, easily cut off the standard of Subala's son with a broad-headed arrow. The valiant son of Subala, filled with rage, O king, in that encounter, pierced Satyaki's armour and then cut off his golden standard. Then Satyaki pierced him in return with many keen arrows, and struck his driver, O monarch, with three arrows. With great speed then, he despatched with other shafts the steeds of Shakuni to Yama's abode. Speedily alighting then, O bull among men, from his car, Shakuni, that mighty car-warrior, quickly ascended the car of Uluka. The latter then bore away with great speed his father from Sini's grandson, that warrior skilled in battle. Then Satyaki, O king, rushed in that battle against thy army with great impetuosity, at which that army broke. Shrouded with the arrows of Sini's grandson, thy army, O monarch, fled away on all sides with great speed, and fell down deprived of life. "'Thy son resisted Bhimasena in that battle, in a trice Bhima made that ruler of men steedless and driverless and carless and standardless, at which the (Pandava) troops became highly glad. Then thy son, O king, went away from Bhimasena's presence. The whole Kuru army, at this, rushed against Bhimasena. Tremendous became the din made by those combatants inspired with the desire of slaying Bhimasena. Yudhamanyu, piercing Kripa, quickly cut off his bow. Then Kripa, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, taking up another bow, felled Yudhamanyu's standard and driver and umbrella on the Earth. At this, the mighty car-warrior Yudhamanyu retreated on his car, driving it himself. Uttamauja covered the terrible son of Hridika, endued with terrible prowess, with a thick shower of arrows like a cloud pouring torrents of rain on a mountain. The battle between them, O scorcher of foes, became so awful that its like, O monarch, I had never seen before. Then Kritavarma, O king, in that encounter, suddenly pierced Uttamauja in the chest, at which the latter sat down on the terrace of his car. His driver then bore away that foremost of car-warriors. Then the whole Kuru army rushed at Bhimasena. Duhshasana and Subala's son, encompassing the son of Pandu with a large elephant force, began to strike him with small arrows. Then Bhima, causing the wrathful Duryodhana to turn his back on the field by means of hundreds of arrows, quickly rushed towards that elephant force. Beholding that elephant-force advance impetuously against him, Vrikodara became filled with great rage and invoked his celestial weapons. And he began to strike elephants with elephants like Indra striking the Asuras. While engaged in slaughtering those elephants, Vrikodara, in that battle, covered the welkin with his shafts like myriads of insects covering a fire. Like the wind scattering masses of clouds, Bhima quickly scattered and destroyed crowds of elephants united together in thousands. Covered all over with networks of gold, as also with many gems, the elephants looked exceedingly beautiful in that battle like clouds charged with lightning. Slaughtered by Bhima, those elephants, O king, began to fly away. Some amongst them, with their hearts pierced, fell down on the Earth. With those fallen and failing elephants adorned with gold, the Earth looked beautiful there, as if strewn with broken mountains. With the fallen elephant-warriors of blazing resplendence and adorned with gems, the Earth looked beautiful as if strewn with planets of exhausted merit. Then elephants, with their temples, frontal globes, and trunks deeply pierced, fled in hundreds in that battle, afflicted with the shafts of Bhimasena. Some amongst them, huge as hills, afflicted with fear and vomiting blood, ran away, their limbs mangled with arrows, and looked on that account, like mountains with liquid metals running down their sides. People then beheld the two arms of Bhima, resembling two mighty snakes, smeared with sandal-paste and other pounded unguents, continually employed in drawing the bow. Hearing the sound of his bow-string and palms that resembled the peal of thunder, those elephants, ejecting urine and excreta, ran away in fear. The feats of the single-handed Bhima of great intelligence, on that occasion, shone like those of Rudra, himself, while engaged in destroying all creatures.'" 62 "Sanjaya said, 'The handsome Arjuna then, on that foremost car of his, unto which were yoked white steeds, and which was urged by Narayana himself, appeared on the scene. Like the tempest agitating the ocean, Vijaya, O foremost of kings, in that battle, agitated that host of thine teeming with horsemen. When the white-steeded Arjuna was otherwise engaged, thy son Duryodhana, filled with rage and surrounded by half his troops, approached suddenly, and encompassed the advancing Yudhishthira inspired with the desire of revenge. The Kuru king then pierced the son of Pandu with three and seventy razor-headed arrows. At this, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, became inflamed with ire, and quickly struck thy son with thirty broad-headed arrows. The Kaurava troops then rushed impetuously for seizing Yudhishthira. Understanding the wicked intentions of the enemy, the great car-warriors of the Pandava army, uniting together, rushed towards Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, for rescuing him. Indeed, Nakula and Sahadeva and Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Prishata, surrounded by a full Akshauhini of troops, thus proceeded towards Yudhishthira. Bhimasena also, in that battle, crushing the great car-warriors of thy army, proceeded towards the king surrounded by foes. Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana, O king, shooting dense showers of arrows, checked, single-handed, all those mighty bowmen thus advancing (to the rescue). Though they shot dense showers of arrows and hurled innumerable lances, fighting with determination, yet they were unable even to look at the son of Radha. Indeed, the son of Radha, that master of all weapons offensive and defensive, by shooting dense showers of shafts checked all those great bowmen. The high-souled Sahadeva, however, quickly approaching (the spot where Duryodhana was), and invoking without loss of time a (celestial) weapon, pierced Duryodhana with twenty arrows. Thus pierced by Sahadeva, the Kuru king, covered with blood, looked beautiful, like a huge elephant of split temples. Beholding thy son deeply pierced with many arrows of great energy, that foremost of car-warriors, viz., the son of Radha, filled with rage, rushed to that spot. Seeing Duryodhana reduced to that plight, Karna, invoking his weapons quickly, began to slaughter the troops of Yudhishthira and Prishata's son. Thus slaughtered by the high-souled Karna, Yudhishthira's troops, O king, afflicted with the arrows of the Suta's son, soon fled away. Showers of shafts fell together. Indeed, those sped subsequently from the bow of the Suta's son touched with their heads the wings of those sped before. In consequence of those falling showers, of shafts, O monarch, colliding with one another, a conflagration seemed to blaze forth in the welkin. Soon Karna shrouded the ten points of the compass, O king, with arrows capable of piercing the bodies of foes, as if with advancing flights of locusts. Displaying the highest weapons, Karna began to wave with great force his two arms smeared with red sandal-paste and adorned with jewels and gold. Then stupefying all sides, O king, with his shafts, Karna deeply afflicted Yudhishthira the just. Filled with rage at this, Dharma's son Yudhishthira struck Karna with fifty keen shafts. In consequence then of the darkness caused by those showers of arrows, the battle became awful to look at. Loud cries of woe arose from among thy troops, O monarch, whilst they were being slaughtered by Dharma's son, O sire, with diverse kinds of keen shafts equipped with Kanka feathers and whetted on stone, with numerous broad-headed arrows, and with diverse kinds of darts and swords and clubs. Thither where Pandu's son of virtuous soul cast his eyes with the desire of producing evil, thither thy army broke, O bull of Bharata's race. Inflamed with great rage, Karna also, of immeasurable soul, inspired with the desire of retaliating, his face flushed in anger, rushed in that battle against Pandu's son, king Yudhishthira the just, shooting cloth-yard shafts and crescent-shaped arrows and those equipped with heads like the calf's tooth. Yudhishthira also pierced him with many whetted arrows equipped with wings of gold. As if smiling the while, Karna pierced the royal son of Pandu in the chest with three broad-headed arrows, whetted on stone, and equipped with Kanka feathers. Deeply afflicted therewith, king Yudhishthira the just, sitting down on the terrace of his car, ordered his driver to retreat. Thereupon all the Dhartarashtras, with their king, set up a loud shout, saying, "Seize! Seize!" and all of them then pursued the (Pandava) king. Then seventeen hundred Kekaya troops, skilled in smiting, united with a body of the Pancala troops, O king, checked the Dhartarashtras. During the progress of that fierce and terrible battle, Duryodhana and Bhima, those two warriors endued with great might, encountered each other.'" 63 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile Karna also began, with his arrowy showers, to afflict the mighty car-warriors of the Kaikayas, viz., those great bowmen that stood before him. Indeed, the son of Radha despatched to Yama's abode full five hundred of those warriors that were employed in checking him in that battle. Beholding the son of Radha to be irresistible in that battle, those warriors, afflicted with the arrows of their assailant, repaired to the presence of Bhimasena. Breaking that car-force into many parts by means of his arrows, Karna, singly and riding on that same car of his, pursued Yudhishthira, who then, exceedingly mangled with arrows and almost insensible, was proceeding slowly for reaching the Pandava encampment with Nakula and Sahadeva on his two sides. Having approached the king, the Suta's son, from desire of doing good to Duryodhana, pierced the son of Pandu with three formidable arrows. In return, the king pierced Radha's son in the centre of the chest and then his driver with three shafts. Then those two scorchers of foes, viz., the twin sons of Madri, those two protectors of Yudhishthira's car-wheels, rushed towards Karna so that the latter might not succeed in slaying the king. Then Nakula and Sahadeva, both shooting showers of shafts with great care, covered the son of Radha therewith. The valiant son of the Suta, however, in return, pierced those two high-souled chastisers of foes with two broad-headed arrows of great sharpness. The son of Radha then slew Yudhishthira's excellent steeds, white as ivory and fleet as the mind, and having black hair in their tails. Then, smiling the while, the Suta's son, that great bowman, with another broadheaded shaft, felled the head-gear of Kunti's son. Similarly, the valiant Karna, having slain the steeds of Nakula, cut off the car shafts and bow of that intelligent son of Madri. Those two steedless and carless sons of Pandu,--those two brothers,--thereupon ascended the car of Sahadeva. Beholding those two brothers made carless, that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., their maternal uncle, the ruler of the Madras, moved by compassion, addressed the son of Radha and said, "Thou art to fight today with Pritha's son Phalguna. Why dost thou then, with rage inflamed to such a pitch, battle with Dharma's royal son? Thou art suffering thy weapons to be exhausted. Thy own armour is being weakened. With thy shafts reduced, and without quivers, with thy driver and steeds fatigued, and thyself mangled by foes with weapons, when thou wilt approach Partha, O son of Radha, thou wilt be an object of derision and mirth." Though thus addressed by the ruler of the Madras, Karna still, filled with rage, continued to assail Yudhishthira in battle. And he continued to pierce the two sons of Madri by Pandu with many keen arrows. Smiling the while, by means of his shafts he made Yudhishthira turn his face from the battle. Then Shalya, laughing, once more said unto Karna as the latter, excited with great wrath and resolved upon Yudhishthira's destruction stood on his car, these words, "Him for whose sake Dhritarashtra's son always honours thee, slay that Partha, O son of Radha. What wouldst thou gain by slaying Yudhishthira? The two Krishnas are blowing their conchs, whose loud blare is being heard. The twang also of Arjuna's bow is being heard, like the roar of the clouds in the season of rains. There, Arjuna, striking down the foremost of our car-warriors with his arrowy down-pours, is devouring all our troops. Behold him, O Karna, in this battle. The two that are protecting his rear are Yudhamanyu and Uttamauja. The brave Satyaki is protecting his left wheel, and Dhrishtadyumna is protecting his right wheel. There, Bhimasena is fighting with the royal son of Dhritarashtra. Act in such way, O son of Radha, that Bhima may not be able to slay the king today in the sight of us all,--that the king may, indeed, escape him. Behold, Duryodhana is brought under the power of Bhimasena, that ornament of battle. Approaching if thou canst rescue him, it will, indeed, be a very wonderful feat. Going thither, rescue the king, for a great peril has overtaken him. What wilt thou gain by slaying the sons of Madri or king Yudhishthira?" Hearing these words of Shalya, O lord of Earth, and beholding Duryodhana overpowered by Bhima in that dreadful battle, the valiant son of Radha, thus urged by the words of Shalya and exceedingly desirous of rescuing the king, left Ajatasatru and the twin sons of Madri by Pandu, and rushed for rescuing thy son. He was borne by his steeds that were fleet as birds and that were urged by the ruler of the Madras. After Karna had gone away, Kunti's son Yudhishthira retreated, borne, O sire, by the fleet steeds of Sahadeva. With his twin brothers accompanying him, that ruler of men, quickly repairing in shame to the (Pandava) camp, his body exceedingly mangled with shafts, alighted from the car and hastily sat down on an excellent bed. The arrows then being extracted from his body, the royal son of Pandu, his heart exceedingly afflicted with sorrow's dart, addressed his two brothers, viz., those two mighty car-warriors, the sons of Madri, saying, "Repair quickly to the division of Bhimasena. Roaring like a cloud, Vrikodara is engaged in battle." Riding another car, Nakula, that bull among car-warriors, and Sahadeva of great energy,--those two brothers, those two crushers of foes,--both endued with great might, then proceeded towards Bhima, borne by steeds of the utmost fleetness. Indeed, the brothers having together repaired to Bhimasena's division, took up their places there.'" 64 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile Drona's son, surrounded by a large car-force, O king, suddenly proceeded to that spot where Partha was. Like the continent withstanding the surging ocean, the heroic Partha having Saurin (Krishna) for his help-mate withstood the impetuously rushing Ashvatthama. Then, O monarch, the valiant son of Drona, filled with rage, covered both Arjuna and Vasudeva with his shafts. Beholding the two Krishnas shrouded with arrows, the great car-warriors (of the Pandava army), as also the Kurus that witnessed it, wondered exceedingly. Then Arjuna, as if smiling, invoked into existence a celestial weapon. The Brahmana Ashvatthama, however, O Bharata, baffled that weapon in that battle. Indeed, all those weapons that Arjuna sped from desire of slaying the son of Drona were baffled by the latter, that great bowman, in that encounter. During the progress of that awful encounter of weapons, O king, we beheld the son of Drona to resemble the Destroyer himself, with gaping mouth. Having covered all the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, with straight arrows, he pierced Vasudeva with three arrows in the right arm. Then Arjuna, slaying all the steeds of his high-souled assailant, caused the Earth in that battle to be covered with a river of blood that was exceedingly awful that led towards the other world, and that had diverse kinds of creatures floating on it. All the spectators beheld a large number of car-warriors along with their cars, belonging to the division of Ashvatthama, slain and destroyed by means of the arrows sped from Partha's bow. Ashvatthama also, slaying his enemies, caused a terrible river of blood to flow there that led to Yama's domains. During the progress of that fierce and awful battle between Drona's son and Partha, the combatants fought without showing any regard for one another, and rushed hither and thither. In consequence of cars having their steeds and drivers slain, and steeds having their riders slain, and elephants having their riders and guides slain, an awful carnage, O king, was made by Partha in that battle! Car-warriors, deprived of life with shafts sped from Partha's bow, fell down. Steeds freed from their trappings ran hither and thither. Beholding those feats of Partha, that ornament of battle, that valiant son of Drona quickly approached the former, that foremost of victorious men, shook his formidable bow decked with gold, and then pierced him from every side with many sharp arrows. Once more bending the bow, O king, the son of Drona cruelly struck Arjuna, aiming at the chest, with a winged arrow. Deeply pierced by Drona's son, O Bharata, in that encounter, the wielder of Gandiva, that hero of great intelligence forcibly covered the son of Drona with showers of arrows, and then cut off his bow. His bow cut off Drona's son then, taking up a spiked mace whose touch resembled that of thunder's, hurled it, in that encounter, at the diadem-decked Arjuna. The son of Pandu, however, O king, as if smiling the while, suddenly cut off that spiked mace decked with gold, as it advanced towards him. Thus cut off with Partha's shafts, it fell down on the Earth, like a mountain, O king, broken into pieces, struck with the thunderbolt. Filled with rage at this, Drona's son, that great car-warrior, began to cover Vibhatsu, aided by the energy of the Aindra weapon. Beholding that shower of arrows spread over the welkin through the Aindra weapon, Partha, endued with great activity, O king, taking up his bow Gandiva, and fixing on his bowstring a mighty weapon created by Indra, destroyed that Aindra-shower of arrows. Having baffled that arrowy shower caused by the Aindra weapon, Partha soon covered the car of Drona's son (with his own arrows). The son of Drona, however, overwhelmed with Partha's shafts, penetrated through that shower of arrows shot by the son of Pandu, and approaching the latter, invoked a mighty weapon and suddenly pierced Krishna with hundred shafts and Arjuna with three hundred small arrows. Then Arjuna pierced the son of his preceptor with a hundred arrows in all his vital limbs. And then he poured many arrows on the steeds and driver and the bowstring of Drona's son in the very sight of thy warriors. Having pierced Drona's son in every vital part, Pandu's son, that slayer of hostile heroes, then felled his adversary's driver from the car-niche with a broad-headed arrow. Drona's son, however, himself taking up the reins, covered Krishna with many arrows. The activity of prowess that we then beheld in Drona's son was exceedingly wonderful, since he guided his steeds while he fought with Phalguni. That feat of his in battle, O king, was applauded by all the warriors. Then Vibhatsu, otherwise called Jaya, smiling the while, quickly cut off the traces of Ashvatthama's steeds in that battle, with a razor-faced arrow. Already afflicted by the energy of Arjuna's shafts, the steeds of Drona's son thereupon ran away. Then a loud noise arose from thy troops, O Bharata! Meanwhile the Pandavas, having obtained the victory, and desiring to improve it, rushed against thy troops, shooting from all sides sharp arrows at them. The vast Dhartarashtra host, then, O king, was repeatedly broken by the heroic Pandavas inspired with desire of victory, in the very sight, O monarch, of thy sons, conversant with all modes of warfare, and of Shakuni the son of Subala, and of Karna, O king! Though sought to be stopped, O king, by thy sons, that great army, afflicted on all sides, stayed not on the field. Indeed, a confusion set in among the vast terrified host of thy son in consequence of many warriors flying away on all sides. The Suta's son loudly cried out, saying "Stay, Stay!" but thy army, slaughtered by many high-souled warriors, did not stay on the field. Loud shouts were uttered then, O monarch, by the Pandavas, inspired with this desire of victory, on beholding the Dhartarashtra host flying away on all sides. Then Duryodhana addressing Karna from affection, "Behold, O Karna, how our army, exceedingly afflicted by the Pandavas, though thou art here, is flying away from battle! Knowing this, O thou of mighty arms, do that which is suited to the hour, O chastiser of foes! Thousands of (our) warriors, routed by the Pandavas, are, O hero, calling after thee only, O best of men!" Hearing these grave words of Duryodhana, the son of Radha, as if smiling, said these words unto the ruler of the Madras, "Behold the prowess of my arms and the energy of my weapons, O ruler of men! Today I will slay all the Pancalas and the Pandavas in battle! Cause the steeds to proceed with my car, O tiger among men! Without doubt, everything will be as I have said!" Having said these words, the Suta's son of great valour, that hero, taking up his ancient and foremost of bows called Vijaya, stringed it and rubbed the string repeatedly. Bidding the troops stay on the field after having assured them upon his truth and by an oath, the mighty Karna of immeasurable soul fixed on his bow-string the weapon known by the name of Bhargava. From that weapon flowed, O king, millions and millions of keen arrows in that great battle. Entirely shrouded with those blazing and terrible arrows winged with feathers of Kankas and peacocks, the Pandava army could not see anything. Loud wails of woe arose from among the Pancalas, O king, afflicted, in that battle, with the mighty Bhargava weapon. In consequence then of elephants, O king, and steeds, by thousands, and cars, O monarch, and men, falling on all sides, deprived of life, the Earth began to tremble. The vast force of the Pandavas became agitated from one extremity to another. Meanwhile Karna, that scorcher of foes, that foremost of warriors, that tiger among men, while consuming his foes, looked resplendent like a smokeless fire. Thus slaughtered by Karna, the Pancalas and the Cedis began to lose their senses all over the field like elephants during the conflagration in a forest. Those foremost of men, O tiger among men, uttered loud roars like those of the tiger. Loud became the wails of woe, like those of living creatures at the universal dissolution that were uttered by those crying combatants struck with panic and running wildly on all sides, O king, of the field of battle and trembling with fear. Beholding them thus slaughtered, O sire, by the Suta's son, all creatures, even beasts and birds, were filled with fear. The Srinjayas then, thus slaughtered in battle by the Suta's son, repeatedly called upon Arjuna and Vasudeva like the spirits of the dead within Yama's dominions calling upon Yama to rescue them. Hearing those wails of the troops slaughtered with Karna's shafts, and beholding the terrible bhargava weapon invoked into existence Kunti's son Dhananjaya said unto Vasudeva these words, "Behold, O Krishna of mighty arms, the prowess of the bhargava weapon! It cannot, by any means, be baffled! Behold the Suta's son also, O Krishna, filled with rage in this great battle and resembling the Destroyer himself, in prowess and employed in achieving such a fierce feat! Urging his steeds incessantly, he is repeatedly casting angry glances upon me! I will never be able to fly away from Karna in battle! The person that is living, may, in battle, meet with either victory or defeat. To the man, however, that is dead, O Hrishikesha, even death is victory. How can defeat be his that is dead?" Thus addressed by Partha, Krishna replied unto that foremost of intelligent men and chastiser of foes, these words that were suitable to the occasion, "The royal son of Kunti hath been deeply wounded and mangled by Karna. Having seen him first and comforted him, thou wilt then, O Partha, slay Karna." Then Keshava proceeded, desirous of beholding Yudhishthira, thinking that Karna meanwhile, O monarch, would be overwhelmed with fatigue. Then Dhananjaya, himself desirous of beholding the king afflicted with arrows, quickly proceeded on that car, avoiding the battle, at Keshava's command. While the son of Kunti was thus proceeding from desire of seeing king Yudhishthira the just, he cast his eyes on every part of the army but failed to find his eldest brother anywhere on the field. The son of Kunti proceeded, O Bharata, having fought with the son of his preceptor Drona, and having vanquished that hero incapable of being resisted by the wielder of the thunderbolt himself.'" 65 "Sanjaya said, 'Having vanquished the son of Drona and achieved a mighty and heroic feat that is exceedingly difficult of accomplishment, Dhananjaya, irresistible by foes, and with bow outstretched in his hands, cast his eyes among his own troops. The brave Savyasaci, gladdening those warriors of his that were still battling at the head of their divisions and applauding those among them that were celebrated for their former achievements, caused the car-warriors of his own army to continue to stand in their posts. Not seeing his brother Yudhishthira of Ajamida's race, the diadem-decked Arjuna, adorned, besides, with a necklace of gold, speedily approached Bhima and enquired of him the whereabouts of the king, saying, "Tell me, where is the king?" Thus asked, Bhima said, "King Yudhishthira the just, hath gone away from this place, his limbs scorched with Karna's shafts. It is doubtful whether he still liveth!" Hearing those words, Arjuna said, "For this reason go thou quickly from the spot for bringing intelligence of the king, that best of all the descendants of Kuru! Without doubt, deeply pierced by Karna with shafts, the king hath gone to the camp! In that fierce passage at arms, though deeply pierced by Drona with keen shafts, the king endued with great activity, had still stayed in battle, expectant of victory, until Drona was slain! That foremost one among the Pandavas, possessed of great magnanimity, was greatly imperilled by Karna in today's battle! For ascertaining his condition, quickly go hence, O Bhima! I will stay here, checking all our foes!" Thus addressed, Bhima said, "O thou of great glory, go thyself for ascertaining the condition of the king, that bull amongst the Bharatas! If, O Arjuna, I go there, many foremost of heroes will then say that I am frightened in battle!" Then Arjuna said unto Bhimasena, "The samsaptakas are before my division! Without slaying those assembled foes first, it is impossible for me to stir from this place!" Then Bhimasena said unto Arjuna, "Relying upon my own might, O foremost one among the Kurus, I will fight with all the samsaptakas in battle! Therefore, O Dhananjaya, do thou go thyself!"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Hearing in the midst of foes, those words of his brother Bhimasena that were difficult of accomplishment, Arjuna, desiring to see the king, addressed the Vrishni hero, saying, "Urge the steeds, O Hrishikesha, leaving this sea of troops! I desire, O Keshava to see king Ajatasatru!"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Just as he was on the point of urging the steeds, Keshava, that foremost one of the Dasharhas, addressed Bhima, saying, "This feat is not at all wonderful for thee, O Bhima! I am about to go (hence). Slay these assembled foes of Partha!" Then Hrishikesha proceeded with very great speed to the spot where king Yudhishthira was, O king, borne by those steeds that resembled Garuda, having stationed Bhima, that chastiser of foes, at the head of the army and having commanded him, O monarch, to fight (with the samsaptakas). Then those two foremost of men, (Krishna and Arjuna), proceeding on their car, approached the king who was lying alone on his bed. Both of them, alighting from that car, worshipped the feet of king Yudhishthira the just. Beholding that bull of tigers among men safe and sound, the two Krishnas became filled with joy, like the twin Ashvinis on seeing Vasava. The king then congratulated them both like Vivasvat congratulating the twin Ashvinis, or like Brihaspati congratulating Sankara and Vishnu after the slaughter of the mighty asura Jambha. King Yudhishthira the just, thinking that Karna had been slain, became filled with joy, and that scorcher of foes thereupon addressed them in these words in a voice choked with delight.'" 66 "'Yudhishthira said, "Welcome, O thou that hast Devaki for thy mother, and welcome to thee, O Dhananjaya! The sight of both of you, O Acyuta and Arjuna, is exceedingly agreeable! I see that without being wounded yourselves, you two, his foes, have slain the mighty car-warrior Karna! He was in battle like unto a snake of virulent poison. He was accomplished in all weapons. The leader of all the Dhartarashtras, he was their armour and protector! While fighting he was always protected by Vrishasena and by Sushena, both of whom are great bowmen! Of great energy, he had received lessons from Rama in weapons! He was invincible in battle! The foremost one in all the world, as a car-warrior he was celebrated throughout all the worlds. He was the saviour of the Dhartarashtras, and the proceeder in their van! A slayer of hostile troops, he was the crusher of large bands of foes. Ever engaged in Duryodhana's good, he was always prepared to inflict woe on us! He was invincible in battle by the very gods with Vasava at their head. In energy and might he was equal unto the god of fire and the god of wind. In gravity he was unfathomable as the Nether world. The enhancer of the joys of friends, he was like the Destroyer himself unto foes! Having slain Karna (who was even so) in dreadful battle, by good luck it is that you two have come, like a couple of celestials after vanquishing an Asura! Today, O Acyuta and Arjuna, a great battle was fought between myself exerting with might and that hero resembling the Destroyer himself, while seeking to exterminate all creatures! My standard was cut down, and my two Parshni drivers also were slain by him. I was also made steedless and carless by him in the very sight of Yuyudhana, of Dhrishtadyumna, of the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva), of the heroic Shikhandi, as also in the very sight of the sons of Draupadi, and all the Pancalas! Having vanquished those innumerable foes, Karna of mighty energy then vanquished me, O thou of mighty arms, although I exerted myself resolutely in battle! Pursuing me then and without doubt, vanquishing all my protectors, that foremost of warriors addressed me in diverse harsh speeches. That I am still alive, O Dhananjaya, is due to the prowess of Bhimasena. What more need I say? I am unable to bear that humiliation! For thirteen years, O Dhananjaya, through fear of Karna, I did not obtain any sleep by night or any comfort by day! Filled with hatred of Karna, I burn, O Dhananjaya! Like the bird Vaddhrinasa I fled from Karna, knowing that the time for my own destruction had come. The whole of my time had passed in the thought as to how I would accomplish the destruction of Karna in battle! Awake or asleep, O son of Kunti, I always beheld Karna (with my mind's eye). Wherever I was, the universe appeared to me to be full of Karna! Inspired with the fear of Karna, wherever I used to go, O Dhananjaya, thither I beheld Karna standing before my eyes! Vanquished in battle, with my steeds and car, by that hero who never retreated from battle, alive I was let off by him! What use have I of life or of kingdom either, since Karna, that ornament of battle, today cried fie on me? That which I had never before met with at the hands of Bhishma or Kripa or Drona in battle, that I met with today at the hands of the Suta's son, that mighty car-warrior! It is for this, O son of Kunti, that I ask thee today about thy welfare! Tell me in detail how thou hast slain Karna today! In battle Karna was equal unto Sakra himself. In prowess he was equal unto Yama. In weapons he was equal unto Rama. How then hath he been slain? He was regarded as a mighty car-warrior, conversant with all modes of warfare. He was the foremost of all bowmen, and the one man amongst all men! O prince, the son of Radha was always worshipped by Dhritarashtra and his son, for thy sake! How then hath he been slain by thee? In all engagements, Dhritarashtra's son, O Arjuna, used to regard Karna as thy death, O bull among men! How then, O tiger among men, hath that Karna been slain by thee in battle? Tell me, O son of Kunti, how that Karna hath been slain by thee! How, while he was engaged in battle, didst thou, O tiger among men, strike off his head in the very sight of all his friends like a tiger tearing off the head of a ruru deer? That Suta's son who in battle searched all the points of the compass for finding thee, that Karna who had promised to give a car with six bulls of elephantine proportions unto him that would point thee out, I ask: doth that Karna of wicked soul lie today on the bare ground, slain with thy keen arrows equipped with Kanka feathers? Having slain the Suta's son in battle, thou hast accomplished a deed highly agreeable to me! Encountering him in battle, hast thou really slain that Suta's son, who, filled with arrogance and pride and bragging of his heroism, used to search everywhere on the field of battle for thee? Hast thou, O sire, really slain in battle that sinful wretch who used to always challenge thee and who was desirous for thy sake of giving unto others a magnificent car, made of gold along with a number of elephants and bulls and steeds? Hast thou really slain today that sinful wight who was exceedingly dear to Suyodhana, and who, intoxicated with pride of heroism, used always to brag in the assembly of the Kurus? Encountered in battle, doth that wretch lie today on the field, his limbs exceedingly mangled with sky-ranging shafts sped by thee from thy bow and all steeped in blood? Have the two arms of Dhritarashtra's son been (at last) broken? Have those words been unfulfilled, uttered from folly by him who, filled with pride, used to always boast in the midst of the kings for gladdening Duryodhana, saying, 'I will slay Phalguna'? O son of Indra, hath that Karna of little understanding been slain by thee today, that Suta's son who made the vow that he would not wash his feet as long as Partha lived? That Karna of wicked understanding who in the assembly before the Kuru chiefs, had addressed Krishna, saying, 'Why, O Krishna, dost thou not abandon the Pandavas that are divested of might, exceedingly weak, and fallen?' That Karna who had vowed for thy sake, saying that he would not return from battle without having slain Krishna and Partha. I ask, doth that Karna of sinful understanding lie today on the field, his body pierced with shafts? Thou knowest the nature of the battle that took place when the Srinjayas and the Kauravas encountered each other, the battle in which I was brought to that distressful plight. Encountering that Karna, hast thou slain him today? O Savyasaci, hast thou today, with blazing shafts sped from Gandiva, cut off from the trunk of that Karna of wicked understanding his resplendent head decked with earrings? Pierced with Karna's shafts today, I had, O hero, thought of thee (that thou wouldst slay him)! Hast thou then, by the slaughter of Karna, made that thought of mine true? In consequence of the protection granted him by Karna, Suyodhana, filled with pride, always recked us little. Displaying thy prowess, hast thou today destroyed that refuge of Suyodhana? That Suta's son of wicked soul, that Karna of great wrath, who had formerly, in the presence of the Kauravas and in the midst of the assembly called us sesame seeds without kernel, encountering that Karna in battle, hast thou slain him today? That Suta's son of wicked soul who had, laughing the while, commanded Duhshasana to forcibly drag Yajnasena's daughter won in gambling by Subala's son, hath he been slain today by thee? That Karna of little understanding who, having been counted as only half a car-warrior during the tale of rathas and atirathas, had upbraided that foremost of all wielders of weapons on Earth, our grandsire Bhishma, hath he been slain by thee? Extinguish, O Phalguna, this fire in my heart that is born of vindictiveness and is fanned by the wind of humiliation, by telling me that thou hast slain Karna today, having encountered him in battle! The news of Karna's slaughter is exceedingly agreeable to me. Tell me, therefore, how the Suta's son hath been slain! Like the divine Vishnu waiting for the arrival of Indra with the intelligence of Vritra's slaughter, I had so long waited for thee, O hero!"'" 67 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing these words of the righteous king who had been filled with anger, that high-souled atiratha, Jishnu of infinite energy, replied unto the invincible Yudhishthira of great might, saying, "While battling with the samsaptakas today, Drona's son who always proceedeth at the head of the Kuru troops, O king, suddenly came before me, shooting shafts that resembled snakes of virulent poison. Beholding my car, of rattle deep as the roar of clouds, all the troops began to encompass it. Slaying full five hundred of those, I then, O foremost of kings, proceeded against Drona's son. Approaching me, O king, that hero with great resolution rushed against me like a prince of elephants against a lion, and desired to rescue, O monarch, the Kaurava car-warriors that were being slaughtered by me. Then, in that battle, O Bharata, the preceptor's son, that foremost of heroes among the Kurus, incapable of being made to tremble, began to afflict me and Janardana with whetted shafts resembling poison or fire. While engaged in battle with me, eight carts, each drawn by eight bullocks, carried his hundreds of arrows. He shot them all at me, but like a wind destroying the clouds I destroyed with my shafts that arrowy shower of his. He then shot at me, with skill and force and resolution, thousands of other arrows, all sped from his bow-string stretched to his very ear, even like a black cloud in the season of rains pouring in torrents the water with which it is charged. So quickly did Drona's son career in that battle that we could not discern from which side, the left or the right, he shot his arrows, nor could we notice when he took up his arrows and when he let them off. Indeed, the bow of Drona's son was seen by us to be incessantly drawn to a circle. At last, the son of Drona pierced me with five whetted arrows and Vasudeva also with five whetted arrows. Within the twinkling of an eye, however, I afflicted him with the force of thunderbolts. Exceedingly afflicted with those shafts sped by me, he soon assumed the form of a porcupine. All his limbs became bathed in blood. Beholding his troops, those foremost of warriors all covered with blood and overwhelmed by me, he then entered the car-division of the Suta's son. Seeing the troops overwhelmed by me in battle, and struck with fear, and beholding the elephants and steeds flying away, that grinder (of hostile hosts), viz., Karna approached me quickly with fifty great car-warriors. Slaying them all and avoiding Karna, I have quickly come hither for seeing thee. All the Pancalas are afflicted with fear at sight of Karna like kine at the scent of a lion. The Prabhadrakas also, O king, having approached Karna, are like persons that have entered the wide open jaws of Death. Karna has already despatched to Yama's abode full seventeen hundred of those distressed car-warriors. Indeed, O king, the Suta's son did not become cheerless till he had a sight of us. Thou hadst first been engaged with Ashvatthama and exceedingly mangled by him. I heard that after that thou wert seen by Karna. O thou of inconceivable feats, I thought that thou must have, O king, been enjoying rest (in the camp), having come away from the cruel Karna. I have seen, O son of Pandu, the great and wonderful (Bhargava) weapon of Karna displayed in the van of battle. There is now no other warrior among the Srinjayas that is able to resist the mighty car-warrior Karna. Let Sini's grandson Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna, O king, be the protectors of my car-wheels. Let the heroic princes Yudhamanyu and Uttamauja protect my rear. O thou of great glory, encountering that heroic and invincible car-warrior, viz., the Suta's son, staying in the hostile army, like Sakra encountering Vritra, O foremost of kings, I will, O Bharata, fight with the Suta's son if he can be found in this battle today. Come and behold me and the Suta's son contending with each other in battle for victory. There, the Prabhadrakas are rushing towards the face of a mighty bull. There, O Bharata, 6,000 princes are sacrificing themselves in battle today, for the sake of heaven. If, putting forth my strength, I do not, O king, slay Karna today with all his relatives while engaged in battle with him, then that end will be mine, O lion among kings, which is his that does not accomplish a vow taken by him. I beg of thee, bless me, saying that victory will be mine in battle. Yonder, the Dhartarashtras are about to devour Bhima. I will, O lion among kings, slay the Suta's son and his troops and all our foes!"'" 68 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing that Karna of mighty energy was still alive, Pritha's son Yudhishthira of immeasurable energy, exceedingly angry with Phalguna and burning with the shafts of Karna, said these words unto Dhananjaya, "O sire, thy army is fled and hath been beaten in a way that is scarcely honourable! Inspired with fear and deserting Bhima, thou hast come hither since thou hast been unable to slay Karna. Thou hast, by entering her womb, rendered the conception of Kunti abortive. Thou hast acted improperly by deserting Bhima, because thou wert unable to slay the Suta's son. Thou hadst, O Partha, said unto me in the Dwaita woods that thou wouldst, on a single car, slay Karna. Why, then, through fear of Karna hast come hither, avoiding Karna and deserting Bhima? If in the Dwaita woods thou hadst said unto me, 'O king, I shall not be able to fight with Karna,' we would then, O Partha, have made other arrangements suitable to the circumstances. Having promised me the slaughter of Karna, thou hast not, O hero, kept that promise. Bringing us into the midst of foes, why hast thou broken us into pieces by throwing us down on a hard soil? Expecting diverse good things and benefits from thee, O Arjuna, we have always uttered blessings on thee. All those expectations, however, O prince, have proved vain like those of persons expectant of fruit getting instead of a tree burthened only with flowers! Like a fish-hook hid within a piece of meat, or poison overlaid with food, thou didst, for disappointing us at last, point out destruction in the shape of kingdom unto ourselves covetous of kingdom! For these thirteen years, O Dhananjaya, we have, from hope, lived relying on thee, like seeds sown on earth in expectation of the showers sent by the gods in season! Even these were the words that a voice in the skies had said unto Pritha on the seventh day after thy birth, O thou of foolish understanding! 'This son of thine that is born will have the prowess of Vasava himself! He will vanquish all his heroic foes! Endued with superior energy, he will at Khandava vanquish all the celestials united together and diverse other creatures. This one will subjugate the Madras, the Kalingas, and the Kaikeyas. This one will, in the midst of many kings, slay the Kurus. There will be no bowman superior to him, and no creature will ever be able to vanquish him. With his senses under control, and having obtained mastery over all branches of knowledge, this one, by merely desiring it, will bring all creatures under subjection to himself. This high-souled son that is born of thee, O Kunti, will in beauty be the rival of Soma, in speed of the god of wind, in patience of Meru, in forgiveness of Earth, in splendour of Surya, in prosperity of the Lord of treasures, in courage of Sakra, and in might of Vishnu. He will be the slayer of all foes like Vishnu, the son of Aditi. Endued with immeasurable energy, he will be celebrated for the destruction he will deal to foes and the success he will win for friends. He will, besides, be the founder of a race!' Even thus, in the skies, on the summit of the Satasringa mountains, in the hearing of many ascetics, that voice spoke. All that, however, hath not come to pass. Alas, it shows that the gods even may speak untruths! Hearing also the words of praise always uttered about thee by many foremost of Rishis, I never expected that Suyodhana would win success and prosperity or that thou thyself wouldst be afflicted with the fear of Karna! Thou ridest upon an excellent car constructed by the celestial artificer himself, with axles that do not creak, and with standard that bears the ape. Thou bearest a sword attached to thy belt of gold and silk. This thy bow Gandiva is full six cubits long. Thou hast Keshava for thy driver. Why, then, through fear of Karna hast thou come away from battle, O Partha? If, O thou of wicked soul, thou hadst given this bow to Keshava and become his driver, then Keshava could have (by this time) slain the fierce Karna like the lord of the Maruts (Sakra) slaying with his thunder the Asura Vritra. If thou art unable to resist the fierce son of Radha today, as he is careering in battle, give this thy Gandiva today to some other king, that may be thy superior in (the use and knowledge of) weapons. If that be done, the world will not then behold us bereft of sons and wives, deprived of happiness in consequence of the loss of kingdom, and sunk, O son of Pandu, in an unfathomable hell of great misery. It would have been better for thee if thou hadst never been born in the womb of Kunti, or having taken thy birth there, if thou hadst come out on the fifth month an abortion, than to have, O prince, thus come away from battle, O thou of wicked soul! Fie on thy Gandiva, fie on the might of thy arms, fie on thy inexhaustible arrows! Fie on thy banner with the gigantic ape on it, and fie on thy car given thee by the god of fire!"'" 69 "Sanjaya said, 'Thus addressed by Yudhishthira, Kunti's son owning white steeds, filled with rage, drew his sword for slaying that bull of Bharata's race. Beholding his wrath, Keshava, conversant with the workings of the (human) heart said, "Why, O Partha, dost thou draw thy sword? I do not, O Dhananjaya, behold anyone here with whom thou hast to fight! The Dhartarashtras have now been assailed by the intelligent Bhimasena. Thou comest from battle, O son of Kunti, for seeing the king. The king has been seen by thee. Indeed, Yudhishthira is well. Having seen that tiger among kings who is endued with prowess equal to that of a tiger, why this folly at a time when thou shouldst rejoice? I do not see here, O son of Kunti, the person whom thou mayst slay. Why then dost thou desire to strike? What is this delusion of thy mind? Why dost thou, with such speed, take up that formidable sword? I ask thee this, O son of Kunti! What is this that thou art about, inasmuch as, O thou of inconceivable prowess, thou graspest that sword in anger?" Thus addressed by Krishna, Arjuna, casting his eyes on Yudhishthira, and breathing like an angry snake, said unto Govinda, "I would cut off the head of that man who would tell me 'Give thy Gandiva to another person.' Even this is my secret vow. Those words have been spoken by this king, O thou of immeasurable prowess, in thy presence, O Govinda! I dare not forgive them. I will for that slay this king who himself fears the slightest falling from virtue. Slaying this best of men, I will keep my vow. It is for this that I have drawn the sword, O delighter of the Yadus. Even I, slaying Yudhishthira, will pay off my debt to truth. By that I will dispel my grief and fever, O Janardana. I ask thee, what do you think suitable to the circumstances that have arisen? Thou, O sire, knowest the entire past and future of this universe. I will do what thou wilt tell me."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Govinda then said, "Fie, fie," unto Partha and once more continued to say, "I now know, O Partha, that thou hast not waited upon the old, since, O tiger among men, thou hast yielded to wrath at a time when thou shouldst not have done so. No one that is acquainted with the distinctions of morality would act in the way, O Dhananjaya, in which thou, O son of Pandu, that art unacquainted with them, art acting today! He, O Partha, is the worst of men who committeth acts that should not be done and doeth acts that are apparently proper but condemned by the scriptures. Thou knowest not the decisions of those learned men who, waited upon by pupils, declare their opinions, following the dictates of morality. The man that is not acquainted with those rulings becomes confounded and stupefied, O Partha, even as thou hast been stupefied, in discriminating between what should be done and what should not. What should be done and what should not cannot be ascertained easily. Everything can be ascertained by the aid of the scriptures. Thou, however, art not acquainted with the scriptures. Since (believing thyself) conversant with morality, thou art desirous of observing morality (in this way, it seems) thou art actuated by ignorance. Thou believest thyself to be conversant with virtue, but thou dost not know, O Partha, that the slaughter of living creatures is a sin. Abstention from injury to animals is, I think, the highest virtue. One may even speak an untruth, but one should never kill. How then, O foremost of men, couldst thou wish, like an ordinary person, to slay thy eldest brother, the King, who is conversant with morality? The slaughter of a person not engaged in battle, or of a foe, O Bharata who has turned his face from battle or who flies away or seeks protection or joins his hands or yields himself up or is carless, is never applauded by the righteous. All these attributes are in thy superior. This vow, O Partha, was adopted by thee before from foolishness. In consequence of that vow thou art now, from folly, desirous of perpetrating a sinful act. Why, O Partha, dost thou rush towards thy reverend superior for slaying him, without having resolved the exceedingly subtle course of morality that is, again, difficult of being understood? I will now tell thee, O son of Pandu, this mystery connected with morality, this mystery that was declared by Bhishma, by the righteous Yudhishthira, by Vidura otherwise called Kshatri, and by Kunti, of great celebrity. I will tell thee that mystery in all its details. Listen to it, O Dhananjaya! One who speaks truth is righteous. There is nothing higher than truth. Behold, however, truth as practised is exceedingly difficult to be understood as regards its essential attributes. Truth may be unutterable, and even falsehood may be utterable where falsehood would become truth and truth would become falsehood. In a situation of peril to life and in marriage, falsehood becomes utterable. In a situation involving the loss of one's entire property, falsehood becomes utterable. On an occasion of marriage, or of enjoying a woman, or when life is in danger, or when one's entire property is about to be taken away, or for the sake of a Brahmana, falsehood may be uttered. These five kinds of falsehood have been declared to be sinless. On these occasions falsehood would become truth and truth would become falsehood. He is a fool that practises truth without knowing the difference between truth and falsehood. One is said to be conversant with morality when one is able to distinguish between truth and falsehood. What wonder then in this that a man of wisdom, by perpetrating even a cruel act, may obtain great merit like Valaka by the slaughter of the blind beast? What wonder, again, in this that a foolish and ignorant person, from even the desire of winning merit, earns great sin like Kausika (living) among the rivers?" "'Arjuna said, "Tell me, O holy one, this story that I may understand it, viz., this illustration about Valaka and about Kausika (living) among rivers." "'Vasudeva said, "There was a certain hunter of animals, O Bharata, of the name of Valaka. He used, for the livelihood of his son and wives and not from will, to slay animals. Devoted to the duties of his own order and always speaking the truth and never harbouring malice, he used also to support his parents and others that depended upon him. One day, searching for animals even with perseverance and care, he found none. At last he saw a beast of prey whose sense of smell supplied the defect of his eyes, employed in drinking water. Although he had never seen such an animal before, still he slew it immediately. After the slaughter of that blind beast, a floral shower fell from the skies (upon the head of the hunter). A celestial car also, exceedingly delightful and resounding with the songs of Apsaras and the music of their instruments, came from heaven for taking away that hunter of animals. That beast of prey, having undergone ascetic austerities, had obtained a boon and had become the cause of the destruction of all creatures. For this reason he was made blind by the Self-born. Having slain that animal which had resolved to slay all creatures, Valaka went to heaven. Morality is even so difficult of being understood. There was an ascetic of the name of Kausika without much knowledge of the scriptures. He lived in a spot much removed from a village, at a point where many rivers met. He made a vow, saying, 'I must always speak the truth.' He then became celebrated, O Dhananjaya, as a speaker of truth. At that time certain persons, from fear of robbers, entered that wood (where Kausika dwelt). Thither even, the robbers, filled with rage, searched for them carefully. Approaching Kausika then, that speaker of truth, they asked him saying, 'O holy one, by which path have a multitude of men gone a little while before? Asked in the name of Truth, answer us. If thou hast seen them, tell us this'. Thus adjured, Kausika told them the truth, saying, 'Those men have entered this wood crowded with many trees and creepers and plants'. Even thus, O Partha, did Kausika give them the information. Then those cruel men, it is heard, finding out the persons they sought, slew them all. In consequence of that great sin consisting in the words spoken, Kausika, ignorant of the subtilities of morality, fell into a grievous hell, even as a foolish man, of little knowledge, and unacquainted with the distinctions of morality, falleth into painful hell by not having asked persons of age for the solution of his doubts. There must be some indications for distinguishing virtue from sin. Sometimes that high and unattainable knowledge may be had by the exercise of reason. Many persons say, on the one hand, that the scriptures indicate morality. I do not contradict this. The scriptures, however, do not provide for every case. For the growth of creatures have precepts of morality been declared. That which is connected with inoffensiveness is religion. Dharma protects and preserves the people. So it is the conclusion of the Pandits that what maintains is Dharma. O Partha, I have narrated to you the signs and indications of Dharma. Hearing this, you decide whether Yudhishthira is to be slaughtered by you or not." Arjuna said, "Krishna, your words are fraught with great intelligence and impregnated with wisdom. Thou art to us like our parents and our refuge. Nothing is unknown to thee in the three worlds, so thou art conversant with the canons of morality. O Keshava of the Vrishni clan, thou knowest my vow that whoever among men would tell me, 'Partha, give thy Gandiva to some one braver than you,' I shall at once put an end to his life. Bhima has also made a promise that whoever would call him 'tularak', would be slaughtered by him there and then. Now the King has repeatedly used those very words to me in thy presence, O hero, viz., 'Give thy bow.' If I slay him, O Keshava, I will not be able to live in this world for even a moment. Having intended again the slaughter of the king through folly and the loss of my mental faculties, I have been polluted by sin. It behoveth thee today, O foremost of all righteous persons, to give me such counsel that my vow, known throughout the world, may become true while at the same time both myself and the eldest son of Pandu may live."'" "'Vasudeva said, "The king was fatigued, and under the influence of grief, He had been mangled in battle by Karna with numerous arrows. After that, O hero, he was repeatedly struck by the Suta's son (with his shafts), while he was retreating from battle. It was for this that, labouring under a load of sorrow, he spoke those improper words unto thee in wrath. He provoked thee by those words so that thou mightest slay Karna in battle. The son of Pandu knows that the wretched Karna is incapable of being borne by any one else in the world (save thee). It was for this, O Partha, that the king in great wrath said those harsh words to thy face. The stake in the game of today's battle has been made to lie in the ever alert and always unbearable Karna. That Karna being slain, the Kauravas would necessarily be vanquished. Even this is what the royal son of Dharma had thought. For this the son of Dharma does not deserve death. Thy vow also, O Arjuna, should be kept. Listen now to my counsels that will be agreeable to thee, to counsels in consequence of which Yudhishthira without being actually deprived of life may yet be dead. As long as one that is deserving of respect continues to receive respect, one is said to live in the world of men. When, however, such a person meets with disrespect, he is spoken of as one that is dead though alive. This king hath always been respected by thee and by Bhima and the twins, as also by all heroes and all persons in the world that are venerable for years. In some trifle then show him disrespect. Therefore, O Partha, address this Yudhishthira as 'thou' when his usual form of address is 'your honour.' A superior, O Bharata, by being addressed as 'thou,' is killed though not deprived of life. Bear thyself thus, O son of Kunti, towards king Yudhishthira, the just. Adopt this censurable behaviour, O perpetuator of Kuru's race! This best audition of all auditions, hath been declared by both Atharvan and Angiras. Men desiring good should always act in this way without scruples of any kind. Without being deprived of life a superior is yet said to be killed if that venerable one is addressed as 'thou.' Conversant with duty as thou art, address king Yudhishthira the just, in the manner I have indicated. This death, O son of Pandu, at thy hands, king Yudhishthira will never regard as an offence committed by thee. Having addressed him in this way, thou mayst then worship his feet and speak words of respect unto this son of Pritha and soothe his wounded honour. Thy brother is wise. The royal son of Pandu, therefore, will never be angry with thee. Freed from falsehood as also from fratricide, thou wilt then, O Partha, cheerfully slay the Suta's son Karna!"'" 70 "Sanjaya said, 'Thus addressed by Janardana, Pritha's son Arjuna, applauding those counsels of his friend, then vehemently addressed king Yudhishthira the just, in language that was harsh and the like of which he had never used before. "'Arjuna said, "Do thou not, O king, address these upbraidings to me, thou that art passing thy time full two miles away from battle. Bhima, however, who is battling with the foremost heroes of the world may upbraid me. Having afflicted his foes at the proper time in battle, and slain many brave lords of earth and many foremost of car-warriors and huge elephants and many heroic horsemen and countless brave combatants, he hath, in addition, slain a 1,000 elephants and 10,000 Kamboja mountaineers, and is uttering loud roars in battle like a lion after slaying innumerable smaller animals. That hero achieveth the most difficult feats, the like of which thou canst never achieve. Jumping down from his car, mace in hand, he hath destroyed a large number of steeds and cars and elephants in battle. With also his foremost of swords he hath destroyed many horsemen and cars and steeds and elephants. With the broken limbs of cars, and with his bow also, he consumeth his foes. Endued with the prowess of Indra, with his feet and also his bare arms he slayeth numerous foes. Possessed of great might and resembling Kuvera and Yama, he destroyeth the hostile army, putting forth his strength. That Bhimasena hath the right to upbraid me, but not thou that art always protected by friends. Agitating the foremost of car-warriors and elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers, Bhima, single-handed, is now in the midst of the Dhartarashtras. That chastiser of foes hath the right to upbraid me. The chastiser of foes who is slaying the Kalingas, the Vangas, the Angas, the Nishadas, and the Magadhas, and large numbers of hostile elephants that are ever infuriated and that look like masses of blue clouds, is competent to upbraid me. Riding on a suitable car, shaking his bow at the proper time, and with shafts in his (other) hand, that hero poureth showers of arrows in great battle like the clouds pouring torrents of rain. Eight hundred elephants, I have seen, with their frontal globes split open and the ends of their tusks cut off, have today been slain by Bhima with shafts in battle. That slayer of foes is competent to tell me harsh words. The learned say that the strength of the foremost of Brahmanas lies in speech, and that the Kshatriya's strength is in his arms. Thou, O Bharata, art strong in words and very unfeeling. Thou thinkest me to be like thyself. I always strive to do thee good with my soul, life, sons and wives. Since, not withstanding all this, thou still piercest me with such wordy darts, it is evident that we cannot expect any happiness from thee. Lying on Draupadi's bed thou insultest me, though for thy sake I slay the mightiest of car-warriors. Thou art without any anxiety, O Bharata, and thou art cruel. I have never obtained any happiness from thee. It was for thy good, O chief of men, that Bhishma, firmly devoted to truth, himself told thee the means of his death in battle, and was slain by the heroic and high-souled Shikhandi, the son of Drupada, protected by me. I do not derive any pleasure from the thought of thy restoration to sovereignty, since thou art addicted to the evil practice of gambling. Having thyself committed a wicked act to which they only are addicted that are low, thou desirest now to vanquish thy foes through our aid. Thou hadst heard of the numerous faults and the great sinfulness of dice that Sahadeva spoke about. Yet dice, which are worshipped by the wicked, thou couldst not abandon. It was for this that all of us have fallen into hell. We have never derived any happiness from thee since thou wert engaged in gambling with dice. Having, O son of Pandu, thyself caused all this calamity, thou art, again, addressing these harsh words to me. Slain by us, hostile troops are lying on the field, with mangled bodies and uttering loud wails. It was thou that didst that cruel act in consequence of which the Kauravas have become offenders and are being destroyed. Nations from the North, the West, the East, and the South, are being struck, wounded and slain, after the performance of incomparable feats in battle by great warriors of both sides. It was thou that hadst gambled. It was for thee that we lost our kingdom. Our calamity arose from thee, O king! Striking us, again, with the cruel goad of thy speeches, O king, do not provoke our wrath."'" "Sanjaya said, 'Having addressed these harsh and exceedingly bitter words unto his eldest brother and thereby committed a venial sin, the intelligent Savyasaci of calm wisdom, who is ever actuated by the fear of defection from virtue, became very cheerless. The son of the chief of the celestials became filled with remorse and breathing heavily, drew his sword. Seeing this, Krishna asked him, "What is this? Why dost thou again unsheathe thy sword blue as the sky? Tell me what thy answer is, for then I shall give thee counsel for the gratification of thy object." Thus addressed by that foremost of men, Arjuna, in great sorrow answered Keshava, saying, "I shall, putting forth my strength, slay my own self by whom this wicked act hath been done." Hearing those words of Partha, Keshava, that foremost of all righteous persons said this unto Dhananjaya, "Having said these words unto the king, why hast thou become so cheerless? O slayer of foes, thou desirest now to destroy thy own self. This, however, Kiritin, is not approved by the righteous. If, O hero among men, thou hadst today, from fear of sin, slain this thy eldest brother of virtuous soul, what would then have been thy condition and what wouldst thou not then have done? Morality is subtle, O Bharata, and unknowable, especially by those that are ignorant. Listen to me as I preach to thee. By destroying thy own self, thou wouldst sink into a more terrible hell than if thou hadst slain thy brother. Declare now, in words, thy own merit. Thou shalt then, O Partha, have slain thy own self." Applauding these words and saying, "Let it be so, O Krishna," Dhananjaya, the son of Sakra, lowering his bow, said unto Yudhishthira, that foremost of virtuous persons, "Listen, O king, there is no other bowman, O ruler of men, like unto myself, except the deity that bears Pinaka; I am regarded by even that illustrious deity. In a moment I can destroy this universe of mobile and immobile creatures. It was I, O king, that vanquished all the points of the compass with all the kings ruling there, and brought all to thy subjection. The Rajasuya (performed by thee), brought to completion by gift of Dakshina, and the celestial palace owned by thee, were both due to my prowess. In my hands are (marks of) sharp shafts and a stringed bow with arrow fixed thereon. On both my soles are the signs of cars with standards. No one can vanquish a person like me in battle. Nations from the North, the West, the East and the South, have been struck down, slain, exterminated and destroyed. A small remnant only of the samsaptakas is alive. I alone have slain half of the entire (hostile) army. Slaughtered by me, the Bharata host that resembled, O king, the very host of the celestials, is lying dead on the field. I slay those with (high) weapons that are conversant with high weapons. For this reason I do not reduce the three worlds to ashes. Riding upon my terrible and victorious car, Krishna and myself will soon proceed for slaying the Suta's son. Let this king become cheerful now. I will surely slay Karna in battle, with my arrows. Either the Suta dame will today be made childless by me, or Kunti will be made childless by Karna. Truly do I say it that I will not put off my armour before I have slain Karna with my arrows in battle."'" "Sanjaya said, 'Having said these words unto that foremost of virtuous persons, viz., Yudhishthira, Partha threw down his weapons and cast aside his bow and quickly thrust his sword back into its sheath. Hanging down his head in shame, the diadem-decked Arjuna, with joined hands, addressed Yudhishthira, and said, "Be cheerful, O king, forgiving me. What I have said, you will understand a little while after. I bow to thee." Thus seeking to cheer that royal hero capable of bearing all foes, Arjuna, that foremost of men, standing there, once more said, "This task will not be delayed. It will be accomplished soon. Karna cometh towards me. I shall proceed against him. I shall, with my whole soul, proceed for rescuing Bhima from the battle and for slaying the Suta's son. I tell thee that I hold my life for thy good. Know this for the truth, O king." Having said so, the diadem-decked Arjuna of blazing splendour touched the king's feet and rose for proceeding to the field. Hearing, however, those harsh words of his brother Phalguna, Pandu's son, king Yudhishthira, the just, rising up from that bed (on which he had been sitting), said these words unto Partha, with his heart filled with sorrow, "O Partha, I have acted wickedly. For that, ye have been overwhelmed with terrible calamity. Do thou strike off, therefore, this my head today. I am the worst of men, and the exterminator of my race. I am a wretch. I am addicted to wicked courses. I am of foolish understanding. I am idle and a coward. I am an insulter of the old. I am cruel. What wouldst thou gain by always being obedient to a cruel person like me? A wretch that I am, I shall this very day retire into the woods. Live you happily without me. The high-souled Bhimasena is fit to be king. A eunuch that I am, what shall I do with sovereignty? I am incapable of bearing these harsh speeches of thee excited with wrath. Let Bhima become king. Having been insulted thus, O hero, what use have I with life." Having said these words, the king, leaving that bed, suddenly stood up and desired to go to the woods. Then Vasudeva, bowing down, said unto him, "O king, the celebrated vow of the wielder of Gandiva who is ever devoted to truth about his Gandiva, is known to thee. That man in the world who would tell him, 'Give thy Gandiva to another', would be slain by him. Even those very words were addressed to him by you. Therefore, for keeping that earnest vow, Partha, acting also at my instance, inflicted you this insult, O lord of Earth. Insult to superiors is said to be their death. For this reason, O thou of mighty arms, it behoveth thee to forgive me that beseech and bow to thee this transgression, O king, of both myself and Arjuna, committed for maintaining the truth. Both of us, O great king, throw ourselves on thy mercy. The Earth shall today drink the blood of the wretched son of Radha. I swear truly to thee. Know the Suta's son as slain today. He, whose slaughter thou desirest, hath today lost his life." Hearing those words of Krishna, king Yudhishthira the just, in a great fury, raised the prostrate Hrishikesha and joining his hands, said in haste, "It is even so as thou hast said. I have been guilty of a transgression, I have now been awakened by thee, O Govinda. I am saved by thee, O Madhava. By thee, O Acyuta, we have today been rescued from a great calamity. Both of us stupefied by folly, viz., myself and Arjuna, have been rescued from an ocean of distress, having obtained thee as our lord. Indeed, having obtained the raft of thy intelligence today, we have, with our relatives and allies, passed over an ocean of sorrow and grief. Having obtained thee, O Acyuta, we are not masterless."'" 71 "Sanjaya said, 'Having heard these joyful words of king Yudhishthira, Govinda of virtuous soul, that delighter of the Yadus, then addressed Partha. The latter, however, having at the instance of Krishna addressed those words unto Yudhishthira, became exceedingly cheerless for having committed a trivial sin. Then Vasudeva, smiling, said unto the son of Pandu, "What would have been thy condition, O Partha, if, observant of virtue thou hadst slain the son of Dharma with thy sharp sword? Having only addressed the king as thou, such cheerlessness hath possessed thy heart. If thou hadst slain the king, O Partha, what wouldst thou have done after that? Morality is so inscrutable, especially by persons of foolish understanding. Without doubt great grief would have been thine in consequence of thy fear of sin. Thou wouldst have sunk also in terrible hell in consequence of the slaughter of thy brother. Gratify now this king of virtuous behaviour, this foremost of all practisers of virtue, this chief of Kuru's race. Even this is my wish. Gratifying the king with devotion, and after Yudhishthira will have been made happy, we two will proceed against the car of the Suta's son for fighting him. Slaying Karna today with thy keen shafts in battle, do thou, O giver of honours, give great happiness to Dharma's son. Even this, O mighty-armed one, is what I think to be suitable to this hour. Having done this, thy purpose will be achieved." Then Arjuna, O monarch, in shame, touched king Yudhishthira's feet with his head. And he repeatedly said unto that chief of the Bharatas, "Be pleased with me, Forgive, O king, all that I have said from desire of observing virtue and from fear of sins."'" "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding Dhananjaya, that slayer of foes, lying weeping at his feet, O bull of Bharata's race, king Yudhishthira the just raised his brother. And king Yudhishthira, that lord of the earth, then embraced his brother affectionately and wept aloud. The two brothers, of great splendour, having wept for a long while, at last became freed from grief, O monarch, and as cheerful as before. Then embracing him once more with affection and smelling his head, the son of Pandu, exceedingly gratified, applauded his brother Jaya and said, "O thou of mighty arms, in the very sight of all the troops, my armour, standard, bow, dart, steeds, and arrows, were cut off in battle, O great bowman, by Karna with his shafts, although I exerted myself with care. Thinking of and seeing his feats in battle, O Phalguna, I lose my energies in grief. Life itself is no longer dear to me. If thou dost not slay that hero in battle today, I will cast away my life breaths. What use have I with life?" Thus addressed, Vijaya, replied, O bull of Bharata's race, saying, "I swear by Truth, O king, and by thy grace, by Bhima, O best of men, and by the twins, O lord of the earth, that today I shall slay Karna, in battle, or, being myself slain by him fall down on the earth. Swearing truly, I touch my weapons." Having said these words unto the king, he addressed Madhava, saying, "Without doubt, O Krishna, I will slay Karna in battle today. Aided by thy intelligence, blessed be thou, the slaughter of that wicked-souled one is certain." Thus addressed, Keshava, O best of kings, said unto Partha, "Thou art competent, O best of the Bharatas, to slay the mighty Karna. Even this hath ever been my thought, O mighty car-warrior, as to how, O best of men thou, wouldst slay Karna in battle." Endued with great intelligence, Madhava once more addressed the son of Dharma, saying, "O Yudhishthira, it behoveth thee to comfort Vibhatsu, and command him to slaughter Karna of wicked soul. Having heard that thou hadst been afflicted with shafts of Karna, myself and this one came hither, O son of Pandu, for ascertaining thy plight. By good luck, O king, thou wert not slain. By good luck thou wert not seized. Comfort thy Vibhatsu, and bless him, O sinless one, with thy wishes for his victory."'" "'Yudhishthira said, "Come, Come, O Partha, O Vibhatsu, and embrace me, O son of Pandu. Thou hast told me beneficial words that deserved to be said, and I have forgiven thee. I command thee, O Dhananjaya, go and slay Karna. Do not, O Partha, be angry for the harsh words I said unto thee."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Then Dhananjaya, O king, bowed unto Yudhishthira by bending his head, and seized with his two hands, O sire, the feet of his eldest brother. Raising him and embracing him closely, the king smelt his head and once more said these words unto him, "O Dhananjaya, O thou of mighty arms, I have been greatly honoured by thee. Do thou ever win greatness and victory."'" "'Arjuna said, "Approaching Radha's son today that is proud of his might, I shall slay that man of sinful deeds with my shafts in battle, along with all his kinsmen and followers. He who, having bent the bow strongly, afflicted thee with his shafts, I say, that Karna, will obtain today the bitter fruit of that act of his. Having slain Karna, O lord of the earth, I shall today come back from the dreadful battle to pay thee my respects by walking behind thee. I tell thee this truly. Without having slain Karna I shall not come back today from the great battle. Truly do I swear this by touching thy feet, O lord of the universe."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Unto the diadem-decked (Arjuna) who was speaking in that way, Yudhishthira, with a cheerful heart, said these words of grave import, "Do thou obtain imperishable fame, and such a period of life as accordeth with thy own desire, and victory, and energy, and the destruction of thy foes. Let the gods grant thee prosperity. Obtain thou all these to the measure desired by me. Go quickly to battle, and slay Karna, even as Purandara slew Vritra for his own aggrandisement."'" 72 "Sanjaya said, 'Having with a cheerful heart gratified king Yudhishthira the just, Partha, prepared to slay the Suta's son, addressed Govinda, saying, "Let my car be once more equipped and let my foremost of steeds be yoked thereto. Let all kinds of weapon be placed upon that great vehicle. The steeds have rolled on the ground. They have been trained by persons skilled in horse lore. Along with the other equipment of the car, let them be quickly brought and decked in their trappings. Proceed quickly, O Govinda, for the slaughter of the Suta's son." Thus addressed, O monarch, by the high-souled Phalguna, Krishna commanded Daruka, saying, "Do all that Arjuna, that chief of Bharata's race and that foremost of all wielders of the bow, hath said." Thus ordered by Krishna, Daruka, O best of kings, yoked those steeds unto that car covered with tiger-skins and ever capable of scorching all foes. He then represented unto the high-souled son of Pandu the fact of having equipped his vehicle. Beholding the car equipped by the high-souled Daruka, Phalguna, obtaining Yudhishthira's leave and causing the Brahmanas to perform propitiatory rites and utter benedictions on him, ascended that excellent vehicle. King Yudhishthira the just, of great wisdom, also blessed him. After this, Phalguna proceeded towards Karna's car. Beholding that great bowman thus proceeding, all creatures, O Bharata, regarded Karna as already slain by the high-souled Pandava. All the points of the compass, O king, became serene. King-fishers and parrots and herons, O king, wheeled around the son of Pandu. A large number of beautiful and auspicious birds, O king, called Pung, causing Arjuna (by their timely appearance) to put forth greater speed in battle, cheerfully uttered their cries around him. Terrible Kankas and vultures, and cranes and hawks and ravens, O king, tempted by the prospect of food, proceeded in advance of his car, and indicated auspicious omens foreboding the destruction of the hostile host and the slaughter of Karna. And while Partha proceeded, a copious perspiration covered his body. His anxiety also became very great as to how he would achieve his vow. The slayer of Madhu then, beholding Partha filled with anxiety as he proceeded, addressed the wielder of Gandiva and said these words. "'Vasudeva said, "O wielder of Gandiva, save thee there exists no other man that could vanquish those whom thou hast vanquished with this bow of thine. We have seen many heroes, who, endued with prowess like that Sakra, have attained to the highest regions, encountering thy heroic self in battle! Who else, O puissant one, that is not equal to thee, would be safe and sound after encountering Drona and Bhishma and Bhagadatta, O sire, and Vinda and Anuvinda of Avanti and Sudakshina, the chief of the Kambojas and Srutayudha of mighty energy and Acyutayudha as well? Thou hast celestial weapons, and lightness of hand and might, and thou art never stupefied in battle! Thou hast also that humility which is due to knowledge! Thou canst strike with effect! Thou hast sureness of aim, and presence of mind as regards the selection of means, O Arjuna! Thou art competent to destroy all mobile and immobile creatures including the very gods with the Gandharvas! On earth, O Partha, there is no human warrior who is equal to thee in battle. Amongst all Kshatriyas, invincible in battle, that wield the bow, amongst the very gods, I have not seen or heard of even one that is equal to thee. The Creator of all beings, viz., Brahma himself created the great bow Gandiva with which thou fightest, O Partha! For this reason there is no one that is equal to thee. I must, however, O son of Pandu, say that which is beneficial to thee. Do not, O mighty-armed one, disregard Karna, that ornament of battle! Karna is possessed of might. He is proud and accomplished in weapons. He is a maharatha. He is accomplished (in the ways of battle) and conversant with all modes of warfare. He is also well-acquainted with all that suits place and time. What need is there of saying much? Hear in brief, O son of Pandu! I regard the mighty car-warrior Karna as thy equal, or perhaps, thy superior! With the greatest care and resolution shouldst thou slay him in great battle. In energy he is equal to Agni. As regards speed, he is equal to the impetuosity of the wind. In wrath, he resembles the Destroyer himself. Endued with might, he resembles a lion in the formation of his body. He is eight ratnis in stature. His arms are large. His chest is broad. He is invincible. He is sensitive. He is a hero. He is, again, the foremost of heroes. He is exceedingly handsome. Possessed of every accomplishment of a warrior, he is a dispeller of the fears of friends. Engaged in the good of Dhritarashtra's son, he always hates the sons of Pandu. No one, not even the gods with Vasava at their head, can slay the son of Radha, save thee, as I think. Slay, therefore, the Suta's son today. No one possessed of flesh and blood, not even the gods fighting with great care, not all the warriors (of the three worlds) fighting together can vanquish that car-warrior. Towards the Pandavas he is always of wicked soul and sinful behaviour, and cruel, and of wicked intelligence. In his quarrel with the sons of Pandu, he is actuated by no consideration affecting his own interests. Slaying that Karna, therefore, fulfill thy purpose today. Despatch today unto Yama's presence that Suta's son, that foremost of car-warriors, whose death is near. Indeed, slaying that Suta's son, that first of car-warriors, show thy love for Yudhishthira the just. I know thy prowess truly, O Partha, which is incapable of being resisted by the gods and Asuras. The Suta's son of wicked soul, from exceeding pride, always disregards the sons of Pandu. O Dhananjaya, slay that man today for whose sake the wretched Duryodhana regardeth himself a hero, that root of all (those) sinful persons, that son of a Suta. Slay, O Dhananjaya, that tiger among men, that active and proud Karna, who hath a sword for his tongue, a bow for his mouth, and arrows for his teeth. I know thee well as regards the energy and the might that are in thee. Slay the brave Karna in battle, like a lion slaying an elephant. Slay in battle today, O Partha, that Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana, in consequence of whose energy Dhritarashtra's son disregards thine."'" 73 "Sanjaya said, 'Once more Keshava of immeasurable soul said these words unto Arjuna, who, O Bharata, was advancing (to battle), firmly resolved upon slaying Karna, "Today is the seventeenth day, O Bharata, of this terrible massacre of men and elephants and steeds. At the outset vast was the host that belonged to you. Encountering the foe in battle, that host has been very much reduced in numbers, O king! The Kauravas also, O Partha, were numerous at first, teeming with elephants and steeds. Encountering thee, however, as their foe, they have been nearly exterminated in the van of battle! These lords of Earth and these Srinjayas, united together, and these Pandava troops also, obtaining thy invincible self as their leader, are maintaining their ground on the field. Protected by thee, O slayer of foes, the Pancalas, the Matsyas, the Karushas, and the Cedis, have caused a great destruction of thy foes. Who is there that can vanquish the assembled Kauravas in battle? On the other hand, who is there that can vanquish the mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas protected by thee? Thou, however, art competent to vanquish in battle the three worlds consisting of the gods, the Asuras, and human beings, united together. What need I say then of the Kaurava host? Save thee, O tiger among men, who else is there, even if he resemble Vasava himself in prowess, that could vanquish king Bhagadatta? So also, O sinless one, all the lords of earth, united together, are incapable, O Partha, of even gazing at this vast force that is protected by thee. So also, O Partha, it is owing to their having been always protected by thee that Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi succeeded in slaying Drona and Bhishma. Who, indeed, O Partha, could vanquish in battle those two mighty car-warriors of the Bharatas, Bhishma and Drona, both of whom were endued with prowess equal to that of Sakra himself? Save thee, O tiger among men, what other man in this world is able to vanquish those fierce lords of Akshauhinis, those unreturning and invincible heroes, all accomplished in weapons and united together, Shantanu's son Bhishma, and Drona, and Vaikartana, and Kripa, and Drona's son, and king Duryodhana himself? Innumerable divisions of soldiers have been destroyed (by thee), their steeds and cars and elephants having been mangled (with thy shafts). Numberless Kshatriyas also, wrathful and fierce, hailing from diverse provinces, have been destroyed by thee. Teeming with horses and elephants, large bodies of combatants of diverse Kshatriya clans, such as the Govasas, the Dasamiyas, the Vasatis, O Bharata, and the Easterners, the Vatadhanas, and the Bhojas that are very sensitive of their honour, approaching thee and Bhima, O Bharata, have met with destruction. Of terrible deeds and exceedingly fierce, the Tusharas, the Yavanas, the Khasas, the Darvabhisaras, the Daradas, the Sakas, the Kamathas, the Ramathas, the Tanganas, the Andhrakas, the Pulindas, the Kiratas of fierce prowess, the Mlecchas, the Mountaineers, and the races hailing from the sea-side, all endued with great wrath and great might, delighting in battle and armed with maces, these all--united with the Kurus and fighting wrathfully for Duryodhana's sake were incapable of being vanquished in battle by anybody else save thee, O scorcher of foes! What man, unprotected by thee, could advance, beholding the mighty and swelling host of the Dhartarashtras arrayed in order of battle? Protected by thee, O puissant one, the Pandavas, filled with wrath, and penetrating into its midst, have destroyed that host shrouded with dust and resembling a swollen sea. Seven days have elapsed since the mighty Jayatsena, the ruler of the Magadhas, was slain in battle by Abhimanyu. After that, 10,000 elephants, of fierce feats, that used to follow that king, were slain by Bhimasena with his mace. After that, other elephants, and car-warriors, by hundreds, have been destroyed by Bhima in that exercise of his might. Even thus, O Partha, during the progress of this awful battle, the Kauravas, with their steeds and car-warriors and elephants, encountering Bhimasena and thee, O son of Pandu, have from hence repaired to the region of Death. The van of the Kaurava army, O Partha, having been struck down by the Pandavas, Bhishma shot showers of fierce shafts, O sire! Conversant with the highest weapons, he shrouded the Cedis, the Pancalas, the Karushas, the Matsyas, and the Kaikayas with the shafts, and deprived them of life! The welkin became filled with gold-winged and straight coursing shafts, capable of piercing the bodies of all foes, that issued out of his bow. He slew thousands of car-warriors, shooting showers of shafts at a time. In all, he slew a 100,000 men and elephants of great might. Abandoning the diverse motions, each of a new kind, in which they careered, those wicked kings and elephants, while perishing, destroyed many steeds and cars and elephants. Indeed, numberless were the shafts that Bhishma shot in battle. Slaughtering the Pandava host for ten days together, Bhishma made the terraces of numberless cars empty and deprived innumerable elephants and steeds of life. Having assumed the form of Rudra or of Upendra in battle, he afflicted the Pandava divisions and caused a great carnage amongst them. Desirous of rescuing the wicked Suyodhana who was sinking in a raftless sea, he slaughtered many lords of Earth among the Cedis, the Pancalas, and the Kaikayas, and caused a great massacre of the Pandava army teeming with cars and steeds and elephants. Innumerable foot-soldiers among the Srinjayas, all well-armed, and other lords of earth, were incapable of even looking at that hero when he careered in battle like the Sun himself of scorching splendour. At last the Pandavas, with all their resources, made a mighty effort, and rushed against that warrior who, inspired with the desire of victory, used to career in battle even in this way. Without availing himself of any aid, he routed, however, the Pandavas and the Srinjayas in battle, and came to be regarded as the one foremost hero in the world. Encountering him, Shikhandi, protected by thee, slew that tiger among men with his straight shafts. Having obtained thee that art a tiger among men (as his foe), that grandsire is now stretched on a bed of arrows, like Vritra when he obtained Vasava for his foe. The fierce Drona also slaughtered the hostile army for five days together. Having made an impenetrable array and caused many mighty car-warriors to be slain, that great car-warrior had protected Jayadratha (for some time). Fierce as the Destroyer himself, he caused a great carnage in the nocturnal battle. Endued with great valour, the heroic son of Bharadwaja consumed innumerable combatants with his arrows. At last, encountering Dhrishtadyumna, he attained to the highest end. If, on that day, thou hadst not checked in battle all the (Dhartarashtra) car-warriors headed by the Suta's son, Drona then would never have been slain. Thou heldst in check the whole Dhartarashtra force. It was for this, O Dhananjaya, that Drona could be slain by the son of Prishata. What other Kshatriya, save thee, could in battle achieve such feats for compassing the slaughter of Jayadratha. Checking the vast (Kaurava) army and slaying many brave kings, thou killedest king Jayadratha, aided by the might and energy of thy weapons. All the kings regarded the slaughter of the ruler of the Sindhus to have been exceedingly wonderful. I, however, do not regard it so; thou didst it and thou art a great car-warrior. If this vast assemblage of Kshatriyas, obtaining thee as a foe, suffer extermination in course of even a whole day, I should, I think, still regard these Kshatriyas to be truly mighty. When Bhishma and Drona have been slain, the terrible Dhartarashtra host, O Partha, may be regarded to have lost all its heroes. Indeed, with all its foremost warriors slain, with its steeds, cars, and elephants destroyed, the Bharata army looketh today like the firmament, reft of the Sun, the Moon, and stars. Yonder host of fierce prowess, O Partha, hath been shorn of its splendours today like the Asura host in days of yore shorn of its splendours by Sakra's prowess. The remnant of that grand master now consists of only five great car-warriors, viz., Ashvatthama, Kritavarma, Karna, Shalya, and Kripa. Slaying those five great car-warriors today, O tiger among men, be thou a hero that hath killed all his foes, and bestow thou the Earth with all her islands and cities on king Yudhishthira. Let Pritha's son Yudhishthira of immeasurable energy and prosperity, obtain today the whole earth with the welkin above it, the waters on it, and the nether regions below it. Slaying this host like Vishnu in days of yore slaying the Daityas and the Danavas, bestow the Earth on the king like Hari bestowing (the three worlds) on Sakra. Let the Pancalas rejoice today, their foes being slain, like the celestials rejoicing after the slaughter of the Danavas by Vishnu. If in consequence of thy regard for that foremost of men, viz., thy preceptor Drona, thou cherishest compassion for Ashvatthama, if, again, thou hast any kindness for Kripa for the sake of respect that is due to a preceptor, if, approaching Kritavarma, thou dost not despatch him today to Yama's abode in consequence of the honour that is due to one's kinsmen by the mother's side, if, O lotus-eyed one, approaching thy mother's brother, viz., Shalya, the ruler of the Madras, thou dost not from compassion slay him, I ask thee, do thou, with keen shafts, O foremost of men slay Karna today with speed, that vile wretch of sinful heart who cherisheth the fiercest hate for the son of Pandu. This is thy noblest duty. There is nothing in it that would be improper. We approve of it, and here is no fault in the act. The wicked-souled Karna is the root, O thou of unfading glory, of that attempt, O sinless one, made in the night for burning thy mother with all her children, and of that conduct which Suyodhana adopted towards you in consequence of that match at dice. Suyodhana always hopeth for deliverance through Karna. Filled with rage, he endeavours to afflict me also (in consequence of that support). It is the firm belief of Dhritarashtra's royal son, O giver of honours, that Karna, without doubt, will slay all the Prithas in battle. Though fully acquainted with thy might, still, O son of Kunti, Dhritarashtra's son hath selected war with you in consequence of his reliance on Karna. Karna also always says, 'I will vanquish the assembled Parthas and that mighty car-warrior, viz., Vasudeva of Dasharha's race'. Buoying up the wicked-souled son of Dhritarashtra, the wicked Karna always roareth in the (Kuru) assembly. Slay him today, O Bharata. In all the acts of injury, of which Dhritarashtra's son hath been guilty towards you, the wicked-souled Karna of sinful understanding hath been the leader. I saw the heroic son of Subhadra of eyes like those of a bull, slain by six mighty car-warriors of cruel heart belonging to the Dhritarashtra army. Grinding those bulls among men, viz., Drona, Drona's son, Kripa and other heroes, he deprived elephants of their riders and mighty car-warriors of their cars. The bull-necked Abhimanyu, that spreader of the fame of both the Kurus and the Vrishnis, deprived steeds also of their riders and foot-soldiers of weapons and life. Routing the (Kaurava) divisions and afflicting many mighty car-warriors, he despatched innumerable men and steeds and elephants to Yama's abode. I swear by Truth to thee, O friend, that my limbs are burning at the thought that while the son of Subhadra was thus advancing, consuming the hostile army with his shafts, even on that occasion the wicked-souled Karna was engaged in acts of hostility to that hero, O lord! Unable, O Partha, to stay in that battle before Abhimanyu's face, mangled with the shafts of Subhadra's son, deprived of consciousness, and bathed in blood, Karna drew deep breaths, inflamed with rage. At last, afflicted with arrows, he was obliged to turn his back upon the field. Eagerly desirous of flying away and becoming hopeless of life, he stayed for some time in battle, perfectly stupefied and exhausted with the wounds he had received. At last hearing those cruel words of Drona in battle--words that were suited to the hour--Karna cut off Abhimanyu's bow. Made bowless by him in that battle, five great car-warriors then, well-versed in the ways of foul warfare, slew that hero with showers of shafts. Upon the slaughter of that hero, grief entered the heart of everyone. Only, the wicked-souled Karna and Suyodhana laughed in joy. (Thou rememberest also) the harsh and bitter words that Karna cruelly said unto Krishna in the (Kuru) assembly, in the presence of the Pandavas and Kurus, 'The Pandavas, O Krishna, are dead! They have sunk into eternal hell! O thou of large hips, choose other lords now, O thou of sweet speeches! Enter now the abode of Dhritarashtra as a serving woman, for, O thou of curving eye-lashes, thy husbands are no more! The Pandavas will not, O Krishna, be of any service to thee today! Thou art the wife of men that are slaves, O princess of Pancala, and thou art thyself, O beautiful lady, a slave! Today only Duryodhana is regarded as the one king on earth; all other kings of the world are worshipping the agency by which his administration is kept up. Behold now, O amiable one, how all the sons of Pandu have equally fallen! Overwhelmed by the energy of Dhritarashtra's son, they are now silently eyeing one another. It is evident that they are all sesame seeds without kernel, and have sunk into hell. They will have to serve the Kaurava (Duryodhana), that king of kings, as his slaves.' Even these were the foul words that that wretch, viz., the sinful Karna of exceedingly wicked heart, spoke on that occasion, in thy hearing, O Bharata! Let gold-decked shafts whetted on stone and capable of taking the life of him at whom they are sped, shot by thee, quench (the fire of) those words and all the other wrongs that that wicked-souled wight did unto thee. Let thy shafts quench all those wrongs and the life also of that wicked wight. Feeling the touch of terrible arrows sped from Gandiva, let the wicked-souled Karna recollect today the words of Bhishma and Drona! Let foe-killing cloth-yard shafts, equipped with the effulgence of lightning, shot by thee, pierce his vital limbs and drink his blood! Let fierce and mighty shafts, of great impetuosity, sped by thy arms, penetrate the vitals of Karna today and despatch him to Yama's abode. Let all the kings of the earth, cheerless and filled with grief and uttering wails of woe, behold Karna fall down from his car today, afflicted with thy arrows. Let his kinsmen, with cheerless faces, behold Karna today, fallen down and stretched at his length on the earth, dipped in gore and with his weapons loosened from his grasp! Let the lofty standard of Adhiratha's son, bearing the device of the elephant's rope, fall fluttering on the earth, cut off by thee with a broad-headed arrow. Let Shalya fly away in terror, abandoning the gold-decked car (he drives) upon seeing it deprived of its warrior and steeds and cut off into fragments with hundreds of shafts by thee. Let thy enemy Suyodhana today, beholding Adhiratha's son slain by thee, despair of both his life and kingdom. Yonder, O Partha, Karna, equal unto Indra in energy, or, perhaps, Sankara himself, is slaughtering thy troops with his shafts. There the Pancalas, though slaughtered by Karna with his whetted shafts, are yet, O chief of Bharata's race, rushing (to battle), for serving the cause of the Pandavas. Know, O Partha, that is prevailing over the Pancalas, and the (five) sons of Draupadi, and Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi, and the sons of Dhrishtadyumna, and Satanika, the son of Nakula, and Nakula himself, and Sahadeva, and Durmukha, and Janamejaya, and Sudharman, and Satyaki! The loud uproar made by those allies of thine, viz., the Pancalas, O scorcher of foes, as they are being struck by Karna in dreadful battle, is heard. The Pancalas have not at all been inspired with fear, nor do they turn away their faces from the battle. Those mighty bowmen are utterly reckless of death in great battle. Encountering even that Bhishma who, single-handed, had encompassed the Pandava army with a cloud of shafts, the Pancalas did not turn away their faces from him. Then again, O chastiser of foes, they always strove with alacrity to vanquish forcibly in battle their great foe, viz., the invincible Drona, that preceptor of all wielders of the bow, that blazing fire of weapons, that hero who always burnt his foes in battle. They have never turned their faces from battle, afraid of Adhiratha's son. The heroic Karna, however, with his shafts, is taking the lives of the Pancala warriors endued with great activity as they are advancing against him, like a blazing fire taking the lives of myriads of insects. The son of Radha, in this battle, is destroying in hundreds the Pancalas that are advancing against him,--those heroes, that are resolved to lay down their lives for the sake of their allies! It behoveth thee, O Bharata, to become a raft and rescue those brave warriors, those great bowmen, that are sinking in the raftless ocean represented by Karna. The awful form of that weapon which was obtained by Karna from that foremost of sages, viz., Rama of Bhrigu's race, hath been displayed. Scorching all the troops, that weapon of exceedingly fierce and awful form is blazing with its own energy, surrounding our vast army. Those arrows, sped from Karna's bow, are coursing in battle thick as swarm of bees, and scorching thy troops. Encountering Karna's weapon in battle, that is irresistible by persons not having their souls under control, there the Pancalas, O Bharata, are flying away in all directions! Yonder, Bhima, of unappeasable wrath, surrounded on all sides by the Srinjayas, is fighting with Karna, O Partha, afflicted by the latter with keen shafts! If neglected, Karna will, O Bharata, exterminate the Pandavas, the Srinjayas, and the Pancalas, like a neglected disease whose germ has entered the body. Save thee I do not see another in Yudhishthira's army that would come home safe and sound, having encountered the son of Radha in battle. Slaying that Karna today with thy keen shafts, O bull among men, act according to thy vow, O Partha, and win great fame. I tell thee truly, thou only art able to vanquish in battle the Kaurava host with Karna amongst them, and no one else, O foremost of warriors! Achieving this great feat, viz., slaying the mighty car-warrior Karna, attain thy object, O Partha, and crowned with success, be happy, O best of men!'" 74 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing these words of Keshava, O Bharata, Vibhatsu soon cast off his anxiety and became cheerful. Rubbing then the string of Gandiva and stretching it, he held his bow for the destruction of Karna, and addressed Keshava, saying, "With thee for my protector, O Govinda, and when thou that art acquainted with the past and the future art gratified with me today, victory is sure to be mine. Aided by thee, O Krishna, I can, in great battle, destroy the three worlds assembled together, what need be said of Karna then? I see the Pancala host is flying away, O Janardana. I see also Karna careering fearlessly in battle. I see too the bhargava weapon careering in all directions, having been invoked by Karna, O thou of Vrishni's race, like the puissant thunder invoked by Shakra. This is that battle in which Karna will be slain by me and of which all creatures will speak as long as the earth will last. Today, O Krishna, unbarbed arrows, impelled by my arms and sped from the Gandiva, mangling Karna, will take him to Yama. Today king Dhritarashtra will curse that intelligence of his in consequence of which he had installed Duryodhana, who was undeserving of sovereignty, on the throne. Today, O mighty-armed one, Dhritarashtra will be divested of sovereignty, happiness, prosperity, kingdom, city, and sons. I tell thee truly, O Krishna, that today, Karna being slain, Duryodhana will become hopeless of both life and kingdom. Today, beholding Karna cut in pieces by me with my arrows, like Vritra in days of yore by Indra in the battle between the gods and the Asuras, let king Duryodhana call to mind the words thou hast spoken for bringing about peace. Today let the son of Subala, O Krishna, know that my shafts are dice, my Gandiva the box for throwing them, and my car, the chequered cloth. O Govinda, slaying Karna with keen shafts I will dispel the long sleeplessness of Kunti's son. Today the royal son of Kunti, upon the slaughter of the Suta's son by me, shall be gratified and be of cheerful heart and obtain happiness for ever. Today, O Keshava, I will shoot an irresistible and unrivalled arrow that will deprive Karna of life. Even this, O Krishna, was the vow of that wicked-souled one about my slaughter, viz., 'I will not wash my feet till I slay Phalguna.' Falsifying this vow of that wretch, O slayer of Madhu, I will, with straight shafts, throw down his body today from his car. Today the earth will drink the blood of that Suta's son who in battle condemns all other men on earth! With Dhritarashtra's approbation, the Suta's son Karna, boasting of his own merits, had said, 'Thou hast no husband now, O Krishna!' My keen shafts will falsify that speech of his. Like angry snakes of virulent poison, they will drink his life-blood. Cloth-yard shafts, of the effulgence of the lightning, shot by myself possessed of mighty arms, sped from Gandiva, will send Karna on his last journey. Today the son of Radha will repent for those cruel words that he said unto the princess of Pancala in the midst of the assembly, in disparagement of the Pandavas! They that were on that occasion sesame seeds without kernel, will today become seeds with kernel after the fall of the Suta's son Karna of wicked soul, otherwise called Vaikartana! 'I will save ye from the sons of Pandu!'--even these were the words that Karna, bragging of his own merits, said unto the sons of Dhritarashtra! My keen shafts will falsify that speech of his! Today, in the very sight of all the bowmen, I will slay that Karna who said, 'I will slay all the Pancalas with their sons.' Today, O slayer of Madhu, I will slay that Karna, that son of Radha, relying on whose prowess the proud son of Dhritarashtra, of wicked understanding, always disregarded us. Today, O Krishna, after Karna's fall, the Dhartarashtras with their king, struck with panic, will fly away in all directions, like deer afraid of the lion. Today let king Duryodhana repent upon the slaughter of Karna, with his sons and relatives, by me in battle. Today, beholding Karna slain, let the wrathful son of Dhritarashtra, O Krishna, know me to be the foremost of all bowmen in battle. Today, I will make king Dhritarashtra, with his sons and grandsons and counsellors and servants, shelterless. Today, cranes and other carnivorous birds will, O Keshava, sport over the limbs of Karna cut off into pieces with my shafts. Today, O slayer of Madhu, I will cut off in battle the head of Radha's son Karna, in the very sight of all the bowmen. Today, O slayer of Madhu, I will cut off in battle the limbs of Radha's son of wicked soul with keen vipathas and razor-faced arrows. Today, the heroic king Yudhishthira will cast off a great pain and a great sorrow cherished long in his heart. Today, O Keshava, slaying the son of Radha, with all his kinsmen, I will gladden king Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma. Today, I will slay the cheerless followers of Karna in battle, with shafts resembling the blazing fire or the poison of the snake. Today, with my straight shafts equipped with vulturine feathers, I will, O Govinda, cause the earth to be strewn with (the bodies of) kings cased in golden armour. Today, O slayer of Madhu, I will, with keen shafts, crush the bodies and cut off the heads of all the foes of Abhimanyu. Today, I will bestow the earth, divested of Dhartarashtras on my brother, or, perhaps, thou, O Keshava, wilt walk over the earth divested of Arjuna! Today, O Krishna, I will free myself from the debt I owe to all bowmen, to my own wrath, to the Kurus, to my shafts, and to Gandiva. Today, I will be freed from the grief that I have cherished for thirteen years, O Krishna, by slaying Karna in battle like Maghavat slaying Samvara. Today, after I have slain Karna in battle, let the mighty car-warriors of the Somakas, who are desirous of accomplishing the task of their allies, regard their task as accomplished. I do not know what will be the measure, O Madhava, of the joy of Sini's grandson today after I shall have slain Karna and won the victory. Today, I will slay Karna in battle as also his son, that mighty car-warrior, and give joy to Bhima and the twins and Satyaki. Today, slaying Karna in dreadful battle, I will pay off my debt, O Madhava, to the Pancalas with Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi! Today let all behold the wrathful Dhananjaya fight with the Kauravas in battle and slay the Suta's son. Once more there is none equal to me in the world. In prowess also, who is there that resembles me? What other man is there that is equal to me in forgiveness? In wrath also, there is no one that is equal to me. Armed with the bow and aided by the prowess of my arms, I can vanquish the Asuras and the gods and all creatures united together. Know that my prowess is higher than the highest. Alone assailing all the Kurus and the Bahlikas with the fire of my shafts issuing from Gandiva, I will, putting forth my might, burn them with their followers like a fire in the midst of a heap of dry grass at the close of winter. My palms bear these marks of arrows and this excellent and outstretched bow with arrow fixed on the string. On each of the soles of my feet occur the mark of a car and a standard. When a person like me goeth forth to battle, he cannot be vanquished by any one." Having said these words unto Acyuta, that foremost of all heroes, that slayer of foes, with blood red eyes, proceeded quickly to battle, for rescuing Bhima and cutting off the head from Karna's trunk.'" 75 "Dhritarashtra said, 'In that awful and fathomless encounter of the Pandavas and the Srinjayas with the warriors of my army, when Dhananjaya, O sire, proceeded for battle, how, indeed, did the fight occur?' "Sanjaya said, 'The innumerable divisions of the Pandava army, decked with lofty standards and swelling (with pride and energy) and united together in battle, began to roar aloud, drums and other instruments constituting their mouth, like masses of clouds at the close of summer uttering deep roars. The battle that ensued resembled a baneful shower out of season, cruel and destructive of living creatures. Huge elephants were its clouds; weapons were the water they were to pour; the peal of musical instruments, the rattle of car-wheels, and the noise of palms, constituted their roar; diverse weapons decked with gold formed their flashes of lightning; and arrows and swords and cloth-yard shafts and mighty weapons constituted their torrents of rain. Marked by impetuous onsets blood flowed in streams in that encounter. Rendered awful by incessant strokes of the sword, it was fraught with a great carnage of Kshatriyas. Many car-warriors, united together, encompassed one car-warrior and despatched him to Yama's presence. Or, one foremost of car-warriors despatched a single adversary, or one despatched many adversaries united together. Again, some one car-warrior despatched to Yama's abode some one adversary along with his driver and steeds. Some one rider, with a single elephant, despatched many car-warriors and horsemen. Similarly, Partha, with clouds of shafts, despatched large number of cars with drivers and steeds, of elephants and horses with their riders, and of foot-soldiers, belonging to the enemy. Kripa and Shikhandi encountered each other in that battle, while Satyaki proceeded against Duryodhana. And Srutasravas was engaged with Drona's son, and Yudhamanyu with Citrasena. The great Srinjaya car-warrior Uttamauja was engaged with Karna's son Sushena, while Sahadeva rushed against Shakuni, the king of the Gandharas, like a hungry lion against a mighty bull. The youthful Satanika, the son of Nakula, rushed against the youthful Vrishasena, the son of Karna, shooting showers of shafts. The heroic son of Karna struck that son of the princess of Pancala with many arrows. Conversant with all modes of warfare, Madri's son Nakula, that bull among car-warriors, assailed Kritavarma. The king of the Pancalas, Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Yajnasena, attacked Karna, the commander of the Kaurava army, with all his forces. Duhshasana, O Bharata, with the swelling host of the samsaptakas forming a portion of the Bharata army, fiercely attacked in that battle Bhima, that foremost of warriors of irresistible impetuosity. The heroic Uttamauja, putting forth his strength struck the son of Karna and cut off his head which fell down on the earth, filling the earth and the welkin with a loud noise. Beholding the head of Sushena lying on the ground, Karna became filled with grief. Soon, however, in rage he cut off the steeds, the car, and the standard, of his son's slayer with many keen shafts. Meanwhile Uttamauja, piercing with his keen shafts and cutting off with his bright sword the steeds of Kripa and those warriors also that protected Kripa's sides, quickly ascended the car of Shikhandi. Beholding Kripa deprived of his car, Shikhandi who was on his vehicle, wished not to strike him with his shafts. The son of Drona then, covering with his own the car of Kripa, rescued the latter like a bull sunk in a mire. Meanwhile Bhima, the son of the Wind-god clad in golden mail, began to scorch with his keen arrows the troops of thy sons like the mid-day sun scorching everything in the summer season.'" 76 "Sanjaya said, 'During the progress of the fierce engagement, Bhima, while fighting along, being encompassed by innumerable foes, addressed his driver, saying, "Bear me into the midst of the Dhartarashtra host. Proceed, O charioteer, with speed, borne by these steeds. I will despatch all these Dhartarashtras to the presence of Yama." Thus urged by Bhimasena, the charioteer proceeded, quickly and with great impetuosity, against thy son's host to that spot whence Bhima desired to slaughter it. Then a large number of Kaurava troops, with elephants and cars and horse and foot, advanced against him from all sides. They then, from every side, began to strike that foremost of vehicles belonging to Bhima, with numerous arrows. The high-souled Bhima, however, with his own shafts of golden wings, cut off all those advancing arrows of his enemies. Thus cut off into two or three fragments with Bhima's arrows, those shafts, equipped with golden wings, of his enemies, fell down on the earth. Then, O king, amongst those foremost of Kshatriyas, struck with Bhima's shafts, the elephants and cars and horse and foot, set up a loud wail, O monarch, that resembled the din made by mountains when riven with thunder. Thus struck by Bhima, those foremost of Kshatriyas, their limbs pierced with Bhima's powerful shafts, rushed against Bhima in that battle from every side, like new-fledged birds towards a tree. When thy troops thus rushed against him, Bhima of furious impetuosity displayed all his vim like Destroyer himself armed with a mace when he burns and exterminates all creatures at the end of the Yuga. Thy soldiers were unable to resist in that battle that fierce forcible energy of Bhima endued with fierce impetuosity, like that of the Destroyer himself of wide open mouth when he rusheth at the end of the Yuga for exterminating all creatures. Then, O Bharata, like masses of clouds scattered by the tempest the Bharata host, thus mangled and burnt in that battle by the high-souled Bhima, broke and fled in fear in all directions. Then the mighty Bhimasena of great intelligence once more cheerfully said unto his charioteer, "Ascertain, O Suta, whether those assembled cars and standards that are advancing towards me, are ours or the enemy's. Absorbed in battle, I am unable to distinguish them. Let me not shroud our own troops with my shafts. O Visoka, beholding hostile warriors and cars and the tops of their standards on all sides, I am greatly afflicted. The king is in pain. The diadem-decked Arjuna also has not yet come. These things, O Suta, fill my heart with sorrow. Even this is my grief, O charioteer, that king Yudhishthira the just should have gone away, leaving me in the midst of the enemy. I do not know whether he, as also Vibhatsu, is alive or dead. This adds to my sorrow. I shall, however, though filled with great grief, destroy those hostile troops of great might. Thus slaughtering in the midst of battle my assembled foes, I shall rejoice with thee today. Examining all the quivers containing my arrows, tell me, O Suta, ascertaining the matter well, what quantity of arrows is still left on my car, that is, how much of what sort." "'Thus commanded, Visoka said, "Of arrows, O hero, thou hast yet 60,000, while thy razor-headed shafts number 10,000, and broad-headed ones number as much. Of cloth-yard shafts thou hast still 2,000, O hero, and of Pradaras thou hast still, O Partha, 3,000! Indeed, of the weapons, O son of Pandu, the portion that still remains is not capable of being borne, if placed on carts, by six bullocks. Shoot and hurl them, O learned one, for of maces and swords and other weapons used with the arms alone, thou hast thousands upon thousands, as also lances and scimitars and darts and spears! Never fear that thy weapons will be exhausted." "'Bhima said, "Behold, O Suta, today this awful battle in which everything will be shrouded with my impetuous arrows sped fiercely from my bow and, mangling all my foes, and in consequence of which the very sun will disappear from the field, making the latter resemble the domains of Death! Today, even this will be known to all the Kshatriyas including the very children, O Suta, that Bhimasena hath succumbed in battle or that, alone, he hath subjugated all the Kurus! Today, let all the Kauravas fall in battle or let all the world applaud me, beginning with the feats of my earliest years. Alone, I will overthrow them all, or let all of them strike Bhimasena down. Let the gods that aid in the achievement of the best acts bless me. Let that slayer of foes Arjuna come here now like Sakra, duly invoked, quickly coming to a sacrifice. Behold, the Bharata host is breaking! Why do those kings fly away? It is evident that Savyasaci, that foremost of men, is quickly shrouding that host with his shafts. Behold, those standards, O Visoka, and elephants and steeds and bands of foot-soldiers are flying away. Behold, these cars, assailed with shafts and darts, with those warriors riding on them, are being scattered, O Suta! Yonder, the Kaurava host, assailed with the shafts, equipped with wings of gold and feathers of peacocks, of Dhananjaya, and resembling thunderbolts in force, though slaughtered extensively, is repeatedly filling its gaps. There, cars and steeds and elephants are flying away, crushing down bands of foot-soldiers. Indeed, all the Kauravas, having lost their sense, are flying away, like elephants filled with panic at a forest conflagration, and uttering cries of woe. These huge elephants, again, O Visoka, are uttering loud cries, assailed with shafts." "'Visoka said, "How is it, O Bhima, that thou dost not hear the loud twang of the yawning Gandiva stretched by Partha in wrath? Are these two ears of thine gone? All thy wishes, O son of Pandu, have been fulfilled! Yonder the Ape (on Arjuna's banner) is seen in the midst of the elephant force (of the enemy). Behold, the string of Gandiva is flashing repeatedly like lightning amid blue clouds. Yonder the Ape on Dhananjaya's standard-top is everywhere seen to terrify hostile divisions in this dreadful battle. Even I, looking at it, am struck with fear. There the beautiful diadem of Arjuna is shining brilliantly. There, the precious jewel on the diadem, endued with the splendour of the sun, looketh exceedingly resplendent. There, beside him, behold his conch Devadatta of loud blare and the hue of a white cloud. There, by the side of Janardana, reins in hand, as he penetrates into the hostile army, behold his discus of solar effulgence, its nave hard as thunder, and its edge sharp as a razor. Behold, O hero, that discus of Keshava, that enhancer of his fame, which is always worshipped by the Yadus. There, the trunks, resembling lofty trees perfectly straight, of huge elephants, cut off by Kiritin, are falling upon the earth. There those huge creatures also, with their riders, pierced and split with shafts, are falling down, like hills riven with thunder. There, behold, O son of Kunti, the Panchajanya of Krishna, exceedingly beautiful and of the hue of the moon, as also the blazing Kaustubha on his breast and his triumphal garland. Without doubt, that first and foremost of all car-warriors, Partha, is advancing, routing the hostile army as he comes, borne by his foremost of steeds, of the hue of white clouds, and urged by Krishna. Behold those cars and steeds and bands of foot-soldiers, mangled by thy younger brother with the energy of the chief of the celestials. Behold, they are falling down like a forest uprooted by the tempest caused by Garuda's wings. Behold, four hundred car-warriors, with their steeds and drivers, and seven hundred elephants and innumerable foot-soldiers and horsemen slain in this battle by Kiritin with his mighty shafts. Slaughtering the Kurus, the mighty Arjuna is coming towards thy side even like the constellation Citra. All thy wishes are fulfilled. Thy foes are being exterminated. Let thy might, as also the period of thy life, ever increase." "'Bhima said, "Since, O Visoka, thou tellest me of Arjuna's arrival, I will give thee four and ten populous villages and a hundred female slaves and twenty cars, being pleased with thee, O Suta, for this agreeable intelligence imparted by thee!"'" 77 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing the roars of cars and the leonine shouts (of the warriors) in battle, Arjuna addressed Govinda, saying, "Urge the steeds to greater speed." Hearing these words of Arjuna, Govinda said unto him, "I am proceeding with great speed to the spot where Bhima is stationed." Then many lions among men (belonging to the Kaurava army), excited with wrath and accompanied by a large force of cars and horse and elephants and foot-soldiers and making the earth resound with the whizz of their arrows, the rattle of their car wheels, and the tread of their horses' hoofs, advanced against Jaya (Arjuna) as the latter proceeded for victory, borne by his steeds white as snow or conchs and decked in trappings of gold and pearls and gems like the chief of the celestials in great wrath proceeding, armed with the thunder, against (the asura) Jambha for slaying him. Between them and Partha, O sire, occurred a great battle destructive of body, life, and sin, like the battle between the Asuras and the god Vishnu, that foremost of victors for the sake of the three worlds. Alone, Partha, decked with diadem and garlands, cut off the mighty weapons sped by them, as also their heads and arms in diverse ways, with his razor-faced and crescent-shaped and broad-headed arrows of great keenness. Umbrellas, and yak-tails for fanning, and standards, and steeds, and cars, and bands of foot-soldiers, and elephants, fell down on the earth, mutilated in diverse ways, like a forest broken down by a tempest. Huge elephants, decked in caparisons of gold and equipped with triumphal standards and warriors (on their backs), looked resplendent, as they were pierced with shafts of golden wings, like mountains ablaze with light. Piercing elephants and steeds and cars with excellent shafts resembling Vasava's thunder, Dhananjaya proceeded quickly for the slaughter of Karna, even as Indra in days of yore for riving (the asura) Vala. Then that tiger among men, that mighty-armed chastiser of foes, penetrated into thy host like a makara into the ocean. Beholding the son of Pandu, thy warriors, O king, accompanied by cars and foot-soldiers and a large number of elephants and steeds, rushed against him. Tremendous was the din made by them as they advanced against Partha, resembling that made by the waters of the ocean lashed into fury by the tempest. Those mighty car-warriors, resembling tigers (in prowess) all rushed in that battle against that tiger among men, abandoning all fear of death. Arjuna, however, routed the troops of those leaders of the Kurus as they advanced, shooting at him showers of weapons, like a tempest driving off masses of congregated clouds. Those great bowmen, all skilled in smiting, united together and proceeded against Arjuna with a large number of cars and began to pierce him with keen shafts. Then Arjuna, with his shafts, despatched to Yama's abode several thousands of cars and elephants and steeds. While those great car-warriors in that battle were thus struck with shafts sped from Arjuna's bow, they were filled with fear and seemed to disappear one after another from their cars. In all, Arjuna, with his sharp arrows, slew four hundred of those heroic car-warriors exerting themselves vigorously in battle. Thus struck in that battle with sharp shafts of diverse kinds, they fled away on all sides, avoiding Arjuna. Tremendous was the uproar made at the van of the army by those warriors as they broke and fled, like that made by the surging sea when it breaks upon a rock. Having routed with his arrows that army struck with fright, Pritha's son Arjuna then proceeded, O sire, against the division of the Suta's son. Loud was the noise with which Arjuna faced his foes, like that made by Garuda in days of yore when swooping down for snakes. Hearing that sound, the mighty Bhimasena, desirous as he had been of obtaining a sight of Partha, became filled with joy. As soon as the valiant Bhimasena heard of Partha's arrival, he began, O monarch, to grind thy troops, reckless of his very life. Possessed of prowess equal to that of the wind, the valiant Bhima, the son of the Wind-god, began to career in that battle like the wind itself. Afflicted by him, O monarch, thy army, O king, began to reel like a wrecked vessel on the bosom of the sea. Displaying his lightness of hands, Bhima began to cut and mangle that host with his fierce arrows and despatch large numbers to the abode of Yama. Beholding on that occasion the superhuman might of Bhima, O Bharata, like that of the Destroyer at the end of the Yuga, thy warriors became filled with fright. Seeing his mightiest soldiers thus afflicted by Bhimasena, O Bharata, king Duryodhana addressed all his troops and great bowmen, O bull of Bharata's race, commanding them to slay Bhima in that battle, since upon Bhima's fall he would regard the Pandava troops already exterminated. Accepting that command of thy son, all the kings shrouded Bhima with showers of shafts from every side. Innumerable elephants, O king, and men inspired with desire of victory, and cars, and horse, O monarch, encompassed Vrikodara. Thus encompassed by those brave warriors on all sides, O king, that hero, that chief of Bharata's race, looked resplendent like the Moon surrounded by the stars. Indeed, as the Moon at full within his corona looks beautiful, even so that best of men, exceedingly handsome, looked beautiful in that battle. All those kings, with cruel intent and eyes red in wrath, inflicted upon Vrikodara their arrowy downpours, moved by the desire of slaying him. Piercing that mighty host with straight shafts, Bhima came out of the press like a fish coming out of a net, having slain 10,000 unretreating elephants, 200,200 men, O Bharata, and 5,000 horses, and a hundred car-warriors. Having slaughtered these, Bhima caused a river of blood to flow there. Blood constituted its water, and cars its eddies; and elephants were the alligators with which it teemed. Men were its fishes, and steeds its sharks, and the hair of animals formed its woods and moss. Arms lopped off from trunks formed its foremost of snakes. Innumerable jewels and gems were carried along by the current. Thighs constituted its gravels, and marrow its mire. And it was covered with heads forming its rocks. And bows and arrows constituted the rafts by which men sought to cross that terrible river, and maces and spiked bludgeons formed its snakes. And umbrellas and standards formed its swans, and head-gears its foam. Necklaces constituted its lotuses, and the earthy dust that arose formed its waves. Those endued with noble qualities could cross it with ease, while those that were timid and affrighted found it exceedingly difficult to cross. Warriors constituting its crocodiles and alligators, it ran towards the region of Yama. Very soon, indeed, did that tiger among men cause that river to flow. Even as the terrible Vaitarani is difficult of being crossed by persons of unrefined souls, that bloody river, terrible and enhancing the fears of the timid, was difficult to cross. Thither where that best of car-warriors, the son of Pandu, penetrated, thither he felled hostile warriors in hundreds and thousands. Seeing those feats achieved in battle by Bhimasena, Duryodhana, O monarch, addressing Shakuni, said, "Vanquish, O uncle, the mighty Bhimasena in battle. Upon his defeat the mighty host of the Pandavas may be regarded as defeated." Thus addressed, O monarch, the valiant son of Subala, competent to wage dreadful battle, proceeded, surrounded by his brothers. Approaching in that battle Bhima of terrible prowess, the heroic Shakuni checked him like the continent resisting the ocean. Though resisted with keen shafts, Bhima, disregarding them all, proceeded against the sons of Subala. Then Shakuni, O monarch, sped a number of cloth-yard shafts equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone, at the left side of Bhima's chest. Piercing through the armour of the high-souled son of Pandu, those fierce shafts, O monarch, equipped with feathers of Kankas and peacocks, sunk deep into his body. Deeply pierced in that battle, Bhima, O Bharata, suddenly shot at Subala's son a shaft decked with gold. The mighty Shakuni however, that scorcher of foes, O king, endued with great lightness of hands, cut off into seven fragments that terrible arrow as it coursed towards him. When his shaft fell down on the earth, Bhima, O king, became highly enraged, and cut off with a broad-headed arrow the bow of Subala's son with the greatest ease. The valiant son of Subala then, casting aside that broken bow, quickly took up another and six and ten broad-headed arrows. With two of those straight and broad-headed arrows, O monarch, he struck Bhima himself, with one he cut off Bhima's standard, and with two, his umbrella. With the remaining four, the son of Subala pierced the four steeds of his antagonist. Filled with rage at this, the valiant Bhima, O monarch, hurled in that battle a dart made of iron, with its staff adorned with gold. That dart, restless as the tongue of a snake, hurled from Bhima's arms, speedily fell upon the car of the high-souled son of Subala. The latter then, filled with wrath, O monarch, took up that same gold-decked dart and hurled it back at Bhimasena. Piercing through the left arm of the high-souled son of Pandu, it fell down on the earth like lightning flashed down from the sky. At this, the Dhartarashtras, O monarch, set up a loud roar all around. Bhima, however, could not bear that leonine roar of his foes endued with great activity. The mighty son of Pandu then, quickly taking up another stringed bow, in a moment, O monarch, covered with shafts the soldiers of Subala's son in that battle, who were fighting reckless of their very lives. Having slain his four steeds, and then his driver, O king, Bhima of great prowess next cut off his antagonist's standard with a broad-headed arrow without losing a moment. Abandoning with speed that steedless car, Shakuni, that foremost of men, stood on the ground, with his bow ready drawn in his hands, his eyes red like blood in rage, and himself breathing heavily. He then, O king, struck Bhima from every side with innumerable arrows. The valiant Bhima, baffling those shafts, cut off Shakuni's bow in rage and pierced Shakuni himself, with many keen arrows. Deeply pierced by his powerful antagonist, that scorcher of foes, O king, fell down on the earth almost lifeless. Then thy son, O monarch, seeing him stupefied, bore him away from battle on his car in the very sight of Bhimasena. When that tiger among men, Shakuni was thus taken up on Duryodhana's car, the Dhartarashtra troops, turning their faces from battle, fled away on all sides inspired with fear on that occasion of great terror due to Bhimasena. Upon the defeat of Subala's son, O king, by that great bowman, Bhimasena, thy son Duryodhana, filled with great fright, retreated, borne away by his fleet steeds, from regard for his maternal uncle's life. Beholding the king himself turn away from the battle, the troops, O Bharata, fled away, from the encounters in which each of them had been engaged. Seeing all the Dhartarashtra troops turn away from battle and fly in all directions, Bhima rushing impetuously, fell upon them, shooting many hundreds of shafts. Slaughtered by Bhima, the retreating Dhartarashtras, O king, approaching the spot where Karna was, once more stood for battle, surrounding him. Endued with great might and great energy, Karna then became their refuge. Finding Karna, O bull of Bharata's race, thy troops became comforted and stood cheerfully, relying upon one another, like shipwrecked mariners, O tiger of men, in their distressful plight, when at last they reach an island. They then, once more, making death itself their goal, proceeded against their foes for battle.'" 78 "Dhritarashtra said, 'When our troops were broken in battle by Bhimasena, what, O Sanjaya, did Duryodhana and Subala's son say? Or, what did Karna, that foremost of victors, or the warriors of my army in that battle, or Kripa, or Kritavarma, or Drona's son Duhshasana, say? Exceedingly wonderful, I think, is the prowess of Pandu's son, since, single-handed, he fought in battle with all the warriors of my army. Did the son of Radha act towards the (hostile) troops according to his vow? That slayer of foes, Karna, O Sanjaya, is the prosperity, the armour, the fame, and the very hope of life, of the Kurus. Beholding the army broken by Kunti's son of immeasurable energy, what did Karna, the son of Adhiratha and Radha, do in that battle? What also did my sons, difficult of defeat in battle, do, or the other kings and mighty car-warriors of our army? Tell me all this, O Sanjaya, for thou art skilled in narration!' "Sanjaya said, 'In that afternoon, O monarch, the Suta's son of great valour began to smite all the Somakas in the very sight of Bhimasena. Bhima also of great strength began to destroy the Dhartarashtra troops. Then Karna, addressing (his driver) Shalya, said unto him, "Bear me to the Pancalas." Indeed, beholding his army in course of being routed by Bhimasena of great intelligence, Karna once more addressed his driver, saying, "Bear me to the Pancalas only." Thus urged, Shalya, the ruler of the Madras, endued with great might, urged those white steeds that were fleet as thought, towards the Cedis, the Pancalas and the Karushas. Penetrating then into that mighty host, Shalya, that grinder of hostile troops, cheerfully conducted those steeds into every spot that Karna, that foremost of warriors, desired to go to. Beholding that car cased in tiger skins and looking like a cloud, the Pandus and the Pancalas, O monarch, became terrified. The rattle then of that car, like unto the peal of thunder or the sound of a mountain splitting into fragments, became audible in that dreadful battle. With hundreds upon hundreds of keen arrows sped from the bow-string drawn to his ear, Karna then smote hundreds and thousands of warriors belonging to the Pandava army. While the unvanquished Karna was employed in achieving those feats, many mighty bowmen and great car-warriors among the Pandavas encompassed him on all sides. Indeed, Shikhandi, and Bhima, and Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Prishata, and Nakula, and Sahadeva, and the (five) sons of Draupadi, and Satyaki, surrounded the son of Radha, pouring showers of arrows upon him, from desire of despatching him to the other world. The heroic Satyaki, that best of men, struck Karna in that engagement with twenty keen shafts in the shoulder-joint. Shikhandi struck him with five and twenty shafts, and Dhrishtadyumna struck him with seven, and the sons of Draupadi with four and sixty, and Sahadeva with seven, and Nakula with a hundred, in that battle. The mighty Bhimasena, in that encounter, filled with rage, struck the son of Radha in the shoulder-joint with ninety straight shafts. The son of Adhiratha, then, of great might laughing in scorn, and drawing his excellent bow let off many keen shafts, afflicting his foes. The son of Radha pierced each of them in return with five arrows. Cutting off the bow of Satyaki, as also his standard, O bull of Bharata's race, Karna pierced Satyaki himself with nine shafts in the centre of the chest. Filled with wrath, he then pierced Bhimasena with thirty shafts. With a broad-headed arrow, O sire, he next cut off the standard of Sahadeva, and with three other arrows, that chastiser of foes afflicted Sahadeva's driver. Within the twinkling of an eye he then deprived the (five) sons of Draupadi of their cars, O bull of Bharata's race, which seemed exceedingly wonderful. Indeed, with his straight shafts causing those heroes to turn back from the fight, the heroic Karna began to slay the Pancalas and many mighty car-warriors among the Cedis. Thus struck in that battle, O monarch, the Cedis and the Matsyas, rushing against Karna alone, poured upon him showers of shafts. The Suta's son, however, that mighty car-warrior, began to smite them with his keen shafts. I beheld this exceedingly wonderful feat, O Bharata, viz., that the Suta's son of great prowess, alone and unsupported in that battle, fought with all those bowmen who contended with him to the utmost of their prowess, and checked all those Pandava warriors, O monarch, with his shafts. With the lightness of hand, O Bharata, of the high-souled Karna on that occasion, all the gods as also the Siddhas and the Charanas were gratified. All the great bowmen among the Dhartarashtras also, O best of men, applauded Karna, that foremost of great car-warriors, that first of all bowmen. Then Karna, O monarch, burnt the hostile army like a mighty and blazing conflagration consuming a heap of dry grass in the summer season. Thus slaughtered by Karna, the Pandava troops, struck with fear, fled in all directions, at the very sight of Karna. Loud wails arose there among the Pancalas in that great battle, while they were thus struck with the keen shafts sped from Karna's bow. Struck with fear at the noise, the vast host of the Pandavas, those enemies of Karna, regarded him as the one warrior in that battle. Then that crusher of foes, viz., the son of Radha, once more achieved an exceedingly wonderful feat, inasmuch as all the Pandavas, united together, were unable to even gaze at him. Like a swelling mass of water breaking when it comes in contact with a mountain, the Pandava army broke when it came in contact with Karna. Indeed, O king, the mighty-armed Karna in that battle, burning the vast host of the Pandavas, stood there like a blazing fire without smoke. With great activity that hero, with his shafts, cut off the arms and the heads of his brave foes, O king, and their ears decked with earrings. Swords with hilts of ivory, and standards, and darts, and steeds, and elephants, and cars of diverse kind, O king, and banners, and axles, and yokes, and wheels of many kinds, were cut off in various ways by Karna, observant of a warrior's vow. There, O Bharata, with elephants and steeds slain by Karna, the earth became impassable and miry with flesh and blood. The uneven and even spots also of the field, in consequence of slain horse and foot and broken cars and dead elephants, could no longer be distinguished. The combatants could not distinguish friends from foes in that thick darkness caused by shafts when Karna's (celestial) weapon was displayed. The mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas, O monarch, were completely shrouded with shafts, decked with gold, that were sped from Karna's bow. Those mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas, O king, in that battle, though struggling vigorously, were repeatedly broken by the son of Radha, even as a herd of deer in the forest is routed by an angry lion. Routing the foremost of Pancala car-warriors and (other) foes, Karna of great fame, in that battle, slew the Pandava warriors like a wolf slaying smaller animals. Beholding the Pandava army turn away from battle, the Dhartarashtra bowmen of great might rushed against the retreating host uttering terrible shouts. Then Duryodhana, O monarch, filled with great delight, caused diverse musical instruments to be beaten and blown in all parts of the army. The great bowmen amongst the Pancalas, those foremost of men, though broken, returned heroically to the fight, making death their goal. The son of Radha, however, that bull among men and scorcher of foes, O monarch, in that battle, broke those returned heroes in diverse ways. There, O Bharata twenty car-warriors among the Pancalas and more than a hundred Cedi warriors were slain by Karna with his shafts. Making the terraces of cars and the backs of steeds empty, O Bharata, and slaying the combatants that fought from the necks of elephants, and routing the foot-soldiers, that scorcher of foes, the Suta's son of great bravery, became incapable of being gazed at like the mid-day sun and looked resplendent like the Destroyer himself at the end of the Yuga. Thus, O monarch, that slayer of foes, that mighty bowman, Karna, having slain foot, horse, car-warriors, and elephants, stood there on his car. Indeed, like the Destroyer himself of great might standing after slaying all creatures, the mighty car-warrior Karna stood alone, having slain the Somakas. The prowess that we then beheld of the Pancalas seemed to be exceedingly wonderful, for, though thus struck by Karna, they refused to fly away from that hero at the head of battle. At that time, the king (Duryodhana), and Duhshasana, and Kripa, the son of Sharadvata, and Ashvatthama, and Kritavarma, and Shakuni also of great might, slaughtered the Pandava warriors in hundreds and thousands. The two sons also of Karna, O monarch, those two brothers of prowess incapable of being baffled, filled with rage, slaughtered the Pandava army in several parts of the field. The battle at that place was dreadful and cruel and the carnage that occurred was very great. Similarly the Pandava heroes, Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi and the (five) sons of Draupadi, filled with rage, slaughtered thy host. Even thus a great destruction took place among the Pandavas everywhere on the field, and even thus thy army also suffered great loss at the hands of the mighty Bhima.'" 79 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile Arjuna, O monarch, having slain the four kinds of forces (of the enemy), and having obtained a sight of the angry son of the Suta in that dreadful battle, caused a river of blood to flow there that was tawny with flesh and marrow and bones. Human heads constituted its rocks and stones. Elephants and steeds formed its banks. Full of the bones of heroic combatants, it resounded with the cries of ravens and vultures. Umbrellas were its swans or rafts. And that river ran, bearing away heroes like trees along its current. (Even) necklaces constituted its assemblage of lotuses, and head-gears formed its excellent foam. Bows and shafts constituted its fishes; and the crowns of crushed men floated on its surface. Shields and armour were its eddies, and cars were the rafts with which it teemed. And it could be easily forded by persons desirous of victory, while to those that were cowards it was unfordable. Having caused that river to flow, Vibhatsu, that slayer of hostile heroes and bull among men, addressing Vasudeva said, "Yonder, O Krishna, the standard of the Suta's son is visible. There, Bhimasena and others are fighting with that great car-warrior. There, the Pancalas, afraid of Karna, are flying away, O Janardana. Yonder, king Duryodhana, with the white umbrella over his head, along with Karna, looketh exceedingly resplendent as he is engaged in routing the Pancalas. There Kripa, and Kritavarma, and Drona's son, that mighty car-warrior, are protecting king Duryodhana, themselves protected by the Suta's son. There, O Krishna, Shalya, well conversant with holding the reins, looketh exceedingly resplendent as, seated on the terrace of Karna's car, he guideth that vehicle. Bear me to that mighty car-warrior, for even such is the wish cherished by me. Without slaying Karna in this battle I will never return. Otherwise, the son of Radha, O Janardana, will, in my sight, exterminate the mighty car-warriors of the Parthas and the Srinjayas." Thus addressed, Keshava quickly proceeded on his car, towards the mighty bowman Karna, for causing a single combat to take place between Karna and Savyasaci. Indeed, the mighty-armed Hari, at the command of Pandu's son, proceeded on his car, assuring (by that very act) all the Pandava troops. The rattle then of Arjuna's vehicle rose loud in that battle, resembling, O sire, the tremendous peal of Vasu's thunder. Beholding Arjuna of white steeds and having Krishna for his driver thus advance, and seeing the standard of that high-souled one, the king of the Madras, addressing Karna, said, "There cometh that car-warrior having white steeds yoked unto his vehicle and having Krishna for his driver, slaying his foes in battle. There cometh he about whom thou wert enquiring, holding his bow Gandiva. If thou canst slay him today, great good may then be done to us. He cometh, O Karna, desirous of an encounter with thee, slaying, as he cometh, our chief warriors. Do thou proceed against that hero of Bharata's race. Avoiding all our warriors, Dhananjaya advanceth with great speed, for, as I think, an encounter with thee, judging by his form swelling with rage and energy. Blazing with wrath, Partha will not stop from desire of battle with anybody else save thee, especially when Vrikodara is being so much afflicted (by thee). Learning that king Yudhishthira the just hath been exceedingly mangled and made carless by thee, and seeing (the plight of) Shikhandi, and Satyaki, and Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Prishata, and the (five) sons of Draupadi, and Yudhamanyu, and Uttamauja, and the brothers, Nakula and Sahadeva, that scorcher of foes, Partha, advanceth impetuously on a single car against thee. Without doubt, he is advancing with speed against us, avoiding other combatants. Do thou, O Karna, proceed against him, for there is no other bowman (among us that can do so). I do not behold any arrangements made for his protection, either on his flanks or at his rear. He advanceth alone against thee. Look after thy success now. Thou alone art able to encounter the two Krishnas in battle. Proceed, therefore, against Dhananjaya. Thou art the equal of Bhishma, of Drona, of Drona's son, of Kripa. Do thou resist in this great battle the advancing Savyasaci. Indeed, O Karna, slay this Dhananjaya that resembles a snake frequently darting out its tongue, or a roaring bull, or a tiger in the forest. There, those kings, those mighty car-warriors of the Dhritarashtra's army, through fear of Arjuna, are quickly flying away, regardless of one another. Save thee, O Suta's son, there is no other man, O hero, that can, in battle, dispel the fears of those retreating combatants. All those Kurus, O tiger among men, obtaining thee as their refuge in this battle, stand depending on thee and desirous of thy protection. Mustering thy great prowess, O mighty-armed one, proceed against Vrishni's race, who is always gratified by the diadem-decked (Arjuna)." "'Karna said, "Thou seemest now to be in thy usual frame of mind and thou art now agreeable to me. Do not, O mighty-armed one, entertain any fear of Dhananjaya. Behold the might of my arms today, and behold my skill. Single-handed, I will today destroy the mighty host of the Pandavas, as also those two lions among men, the two Krishnas! I say this truly unto thee. I will never return from the field today without slaying two heroes. Or, slain by those two, I shall today sleep on the field of battle. Victory is uncertain in battle. Slaying or slain, I shall today achieve my purpose." "'Shalya said, "All great car-warriors, O Karna, say that this foremost of car-warriors, (Arjuna), even when alone, is invincible. When again, he is protected by Krishna, who will venture to vanquish him?" "'Karna said, "As far as I have heard, such a superior car-warrior has never been born on earth! Behold my prowess, since I will contend in battle with even that Partha who is such. This prince of Kuru's line, this foremost of car-warriors, careers in battle, borne by his steeds white in hue. Perhaps he will despatch me to Yama's abode today. Know, however, that with Karna's death, these all will be exterminated. The two arms of this prince are never covered with sweat. They never tremble. They are massive and covered with cicatrices. Firm in the use of weapons, he is possessed of great skill and endued with great lightness of hands. Indeed, there is no warrior equal to the son of Pandu. He taketh a large number of arrows and shooteth them as if they were one. Quickly fixing them on the bow-string, he propelleth them to the distance of two miles. They always fall on the foe. What warrior is there on earth that is equal to him? That Atiratha, endued with great activity, with Krishna as his ally, gratified the god Agni at Khandava. There, on that occasion, the high-souled Krishna obtained his discus, and Savyasaci, the son of Pandu, obtained his bow Gandiva. There that mighty-armed one, endued with might that knows no decay, also obtained his terrible car unto which are yoked those white steeds, as also his two great celestial and inexhaustible quivers, and many celestial weapons, from the God of Fire. In the region of Indra he obtained his conch Devadatta and slew innumerable Daityas, and all the Kalakeyas. Who is there on earth that is superior to him? Possessed of greatness of soul, he gratified Mahadeva himself in fair fight, and obtained from him the terrible and mighty weapon Pasupata that is capable of destroying the three worlds. The several Regents of the world, united together gave him their weapons of immeasurable energy, with which that lion among men quickly destroyed in battle those united Asuras, the Kalakhanjas. So also, in Virata's city, moving on a single car he vanquished all of us, and snatched from us that wealth of kine, and took from all the foremost of car-warriors (portions of) their garments. Challenging that foremost of Kshatriyas, that hero having him of Vrishni's race for his ally, that warrior who is endued with such energy and such attributes, I regard myself, O Shalya, to be the foremost of persons in all the world in point of courage. He is, again, protected by that Keshava of great energy, who is Narayana himself and who is without a rival, that high-souled Vasudeva, that ever-victorious Vishnu armed with conch, discus, and mace, whose attributes all the world united together, cannot (in narrating) exhaust in 10,000 years. Beholding the two Krishnas together on the same car, fear entereth my heart together with courage. Partha is the foremost of all bowmen, while Narayana is unrivalled in encounters with the discus. Even such are Vasudeva, and the son of Pandu. Indeed, the mountains of Himavat may move from the spot where they stand but not the two Krishnas. Both of them are heroes, possessed of great skill, firm in the use of weapons, and mighty car-warriors. Both of them have adamantine frames. Who else, O Shalya, save myself, would proceed against Phalguna and Vasudeva that are even such? The desire cherished by me today, viz., that of a battle with the son of Pandu, O ruler of the Madras, will be fulfilled without delay. Soon will that wonderful and matchless and beautiful battle take place. Either I will overthrow those two in battle today, or the two Krishnas will today overthrow me." Saying these words unto Shalya, Karna, that slayer of foes, began to utter loud roars in that battle, like those of the clouds. Approaching then thy son, that foremost one among the Kurus, and saluted respectfully by him, Karna said unto that prince as also unto those two mighty-armed warriors, Kripa and the Bhoja chief Kritavarma, and the ruler of the Gandharas with his son, and the preceptors and his own younger brothers, and all the foot-soldiers and horsemen and elephant-riders, these words, "Rush towards Acyuta and Arjuna and close up their path all around, and cause them to be tired with exertion, so that, ye lords of the earth, I may easily slay those two after ye all will have mangled them deeply." Saying, "So be it!" those foremost of heroes, desirous of slaying Arjuna, speedily proceeded against him. Those mighty car-warriors then, obeying the behest of Karna, began to strike Dhananjaya with innumerable arrows in that battle. Like the great ocean containing a vast quantity of water receiving all rivers with their tributaries Arjuna received all those warriors in battle. His foes could not notice when he fixed his excellent arrows on the bow-string and when he let them off. All that could be seen was that men and steeds and elephants, pierced with the arrows sped by Dhananjaya, continually fell down, deprived of life. Like men with diseased eyes that are unable to gaze at the sun, the Kauravas on that occasion could not gaze at Jaya who seemed to be possessed of the energy of the all-destroying Sun that rises at the end of the Yuga, having arrows for his rays, and Gandiva for his beautiful circular disc. Smiling the while, Partha with his own showers of arrows cut off the excellent arrows sped at him by those mighty car-warriors. In return, he struck them with innumerable arrows, drawing his bow Gandiva to a complete circle. As the sun of fierce rays between the months of Jyaishtha and Ashadha easily drieth up the waters (of the earth), even so Arjuna, baffling the arrows of his foes, consumed thy troops, O king of kings! Then Kripa, and the chief of the Bhojas, and thy son himself shooting showers of shafts, rushed towards him. Drona's son also, that mighty car-warrior, rushed towards him, shooting his shafts. Indeed, all of them rained their arrows on him, like the clouds pouring torrents of rain on a mountain. The son of Pandu, however, with great activity and speed, cut off with his own shafts those excellent arrows sped at him with great care in that dreadful battle by those accomplished warriors desirous of slaying him, and pierced the chest of each of his adversaries with three shafts. Having arrows for his fierce rays, the Arjuna sun, with Gandiva drawn to its fullest stretch constituting his corona, looked resplendent, as he scorched his foes, like the Sun himself between the months of Jyeshtha and Ashadha, within his bright corona. Then Drona's son pierced Dhananjaya with ten foremost of shafts, and Keshava with three, and the four steeds of Dhananjaya with four, and showered many shafts on the Ape on Arjuna's banner. For all that, Dhananjaya cut off the full drawn bow in his adversary's hand with three shafts, the head of his driver with a razor-faced arrow, and his four steeds with his four other shafts and his standard with three other arrows and felled him from his car. The son of Drona then, filled with wrath, took up another costly bow, bright as the body of Takshaka, and decked with gems and diamonds and gold, and resembling a mighty snake caught from the foot of a mountain. Stringing that bow as he stood on the earth, and bringing out one after another shafts and weapons, Drona's son, that warrior who excelled in many accomplishments, began to afflict those two unvanquished and foremost of men and pierce them from a near point with many shafts. Then those mighty car-warriors, Kripa and Bhoja and thy son, standing at the van of battle, fell upon and shrouded that bull among the Pandavas, shooting showers of shafts, like clouds shrouding the dispeller of darkness. Possessed of prowess equal to that of the thousand-armed (Kartavirya), Partha then showered his shafts on Kripa's bow with arrow fixed on it, his steeds, his standard, and his driver, like the wielder of the thunder in days of yore showering his shafts on (the asura) Vali. His weapons destroyed by Partha's shafts, and his standard also having been crushed in that great battle, Kripa was afflicted with as many thousands of arrows by Arjuna as Ganga's son Bhishma before them (on the day of his fall) by the same diadem-decked warrior. The valiant Partha then, with his shafts, cut off the standard and the bow of thy roaring son. Destroying next the handsome steeds of Kritavarma, he cut off the latter's standard as well. He then began to destroy with great speed the elephants of the hostile force, as also its cars with their steeds and drivers and bows and standards. Thereupon that vast host of thine broke into a hundred parts like an embankment washed off by the waters. Then Keshava, quickly urging Arjuna's car, placed all his afflicted foes on his right side. Then other warriors, desirous of an encounter, with their well-equipped cars bearing lofty standards, followed Dhananjaya who was proceeding with great speed like Indra proceeding for the slaughter of Vritra. Then those mighty car-warriors, Shikhandi and Satyaki and the twins, proceeding in the direction of Dhananjaya, checked those foes and, piercing them with keen arrows, uttered terrible roars. Then the Kuru heroes and the Srinjayas, encountering one another with rage, slew one another with straight shafts of great energy, like the Asuras and the celestials in days of yore in great battle. Elephant-warriors and horsemen and car-warriors,--all chastisers of foes,--inspired with desire of victory or impatient of proceeding to heaven, fell fast on the field. Uttering loud shouts, they pierced one another vigorously with well-shot arrows. In consequence of those high-souled warriors of great courage shooting their arrows at one another in that dreadful battle and by that means causing a darkness there, the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary became enveloped in gloom and the very effulgence of the sun became totally shrouded.'" 80 "Sanjaya said, 'Then, O king, Dhananjaya, desirous of rescuing Kunti's son Bhima who, assailed by many foremost of warriors of the Kuru army, seemed to sink (under that attack), avoided, O Bharata, the troops of the Suta's son and began, with his shafts, to despatch those hostile heroes (that were opposed to Bhima) to the regions of death. Successive showers of Arjuna's shafts were seen overspread on the sky, while others were seen to slay thy army. Filling the welkin with his shafts that resembled dense flights of feathery creatures, Dhananjaya, O monarch, at that time, became the very Destroyer unto the Kurus. With his broad-headed arrows, and those equipped with heads flat and sharp as razors, and cloth-yard shafts of bright polish, Partha mangled the bodies of his foes and cut off their heads. The field of battle became strewn with falling warriors, some with bodies cut and mangled, some divested of armour and some deprived of heads. Like the great Vaitarani (separating the regions of life from those of the dead), the field of battle, O king, became uneven and impassable and unsightly and terrible, in consequence of steeds and cars and elephants, which struck with Dhananjaya's shafts, were mangled and crushed and cut off in diverse ways. The earth was also covered with broken shafts and wheels and axles, and with cars that were steedless or that had their steeds and others that were driverless or that had their drivers. Then four hundred well-trained and ever-furious elephants, excited with wrath, and ridden by warriors cased in mail of golden hue and adorned with ornaments of gold, and urged by fierce guides with pressure of heels and toes, fell down, struck by the diadem-decked Arjuna with his shafts, like loosened summits, peopled with living creatures, of gigantic mountains. Indeed, the earth became covered with (other) huge elephants struck down by Dhananjaya with his arrows. Like the sun piercing through masses of clouds, Arjuna's car passed through dense bodies of elephants with juicy secretions flowing down their bodies and looking like masses of clouds. Phalguna caused his track to be heaped up with slain elephants and steeds, and with cars broken in diverse ways, and with lifeless heroes deprived of weapons and engines and of armour, as also with arms of diverse kinds loosened from hands that held them. The twang of Gandiva became tremendously loud, like the peal of thunder in the welkin. The (Dhartarashtra) army then, smitten with the shafts of Dhananjaya, broke, like a large vessel on the bosom of the ocean violently lashed by the tempest. Diverse kinds of fatal shafts, sped from Gandiva, and resembling burning brands and meteors and thunderbolts, burnt thy army. That mighty host, thus afflicted with Dhananjaya's shafts, looked beautiful like a blazing forest of bamboos on a mountain in the night. Crushed and burnt and thrown into confusion, and mangled and massacred by the diadem-decked Arjuna with his arrows, that host of thine then fled away on all sides. Indeed, the Kauravas, burnt by Savyasaci, dispersed on all sides, like animals in the great forest frightened at a forest conflagration. The Kuru host then (that had assailed Bhimasena) abandoning that mighty-armed hero, turned their faces from battle, filled with anxiety. After the Kurus had been routed, the unvanquished Vibhatsu, approaching Bhimasena, stayed there for a moment. Having met Bhima and held a consultation with him, Phalguna informed his brother that the arrows had been extracted from Yudhishthira's body and that the latter was perfectly well. "'With Bhimasena's leave, Dhananjaya then proceeded (once more against his foes), causing the earth and the welkin, O Bharata, to resound with the rattle of his car. He was then surrounded by ten heroic and foremost of warriors, viz., thy sons, all of whom were Duhshasana's juniors in age. Afflicting Arjuna with their shafts like hunters afflicting an elephant with burning brands, those heroes, with outstretched bow, seemed to dance, O Bharata, (on their cars). The slayer of Madhu then, guiding his car, placed all of them to his right. Indeed, he expected that Arjuna would very soon send all of them to Yama's presence. Beholding Arjuna's car proceeding in a different direction, those heroes rushed towards him. Soon, however, Partha, with a number of cloth-yard shafts and crescent-shaped arrows, cut off their standards and steeds and bows and arrows, causing them to fall down on the earth. Then with some broad-headed arrows he cut off and felled their heads decked with lips bit and eyes blood-red in rage. Those faces looked beautiful like an assemblage of lotuses. Having slain those ten Kauravas cased in golden mail, with ten broad-headed shafts endued with great impetuosity and equipped with wings of gold, that slayer of foes, Arjuna, continued to proceed.'" 81 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile ninety Kaurava car-warriors rushed for battle against the ape-bannered Arjuna who was advancing, borne by his steeds of exceeding fleetness. Those tigers among men, having sworn a terrible oath about the other world, encompassed that tiger among men, Arjuna. Krishna, however, (without minding those warriors), urged the white steeds of Arjuna, endued with great speed and adorned with ornaments of gold and covered with networks of pearls, towards Karna's car. Those ninety Samsaptaka cars pursued Dhananjaya, that slayer of foes, pouring upon him showers of shafts, as he proceeded towards Karna's car. Then Arjuna, with his keen shafts, cut off those ninety assailants endued with great activity, along with their drivers and bows and standards. Slain by the diadem-decked Arjuna with diverse kinds of shafts, they fell down like Siddhas falling down, with their cars, from heaven upon the exhaustion of their merits. After this, many Kauravas, with cars and elephants and steeds, fearlessly advanced against that foremost one of Kuru's race, that chief of the Bharatas, Phalguna. That large force of thy sons, teeming with struggling men and steeds, and swelling with foremost of elephants, then encompassed Dhananjaya, checking his further progress. The mighty Kaurava bowmen shrouded that descendant of Kuru's race with darts and swords and lances and spears and maces and scimitars and arrows. Like the Sun destroying the darkness with his rays, the son of Pandu destroyed with his own shafts that shower of weapons over-spread in the welkin. Then a force of Mlecchas riding thirteen hundred ever-infuriated elephants, at the command of thy son, assailed Partha in the flank. With barbed arrows and Nalikas and cloth-yard shafts and lances and spears and darts and Kampanas and short arrows, they afflicted Partha on his car. That matchless shower of weapons, some of which were hurled by the elephants with their tusks, Phalguna cut off with his broad-headed shafts and crescent-shaped arrows of great keenness. With excellent arrows of diverse kinds, he struck all those elephants and their standards and banners and riders, like Indra striking mountains with thunderbolts. Afflicted with gold-winged shafts, those huge elephants decked with necklaces of gold fell down deprived of life, like mountains ablaze with volcanic fires. Amid that roaring and shouting and wailing army of men and elephants and steeds, the twang of Gandiva, O monarch, rose high. Elephants, O king, struck (with shafts), fled away on all sides. Steeds also, their riders slain, wandered in all directions. Cars, O monarch, looking like the changeful forms of vapour in the sky, deprived of riders and steeds, were seen in thousands. Horsemen, O monarch, wandering hither and thither, were seen to fall down deprived of life by the shafts of Partha. At that time the might of Arjuna's arms was seen. (So great was that might) that alone, in that battle, he vanquished horsemen and elephants and car-warriors (that had been assailing him from every side). Then Bhimasena, beholding the diadem-decked Phalguna encompassed, O bull of Bharata's race, by a large (Kaurava) host consisting of three kinds of forces, abandoned the small unslaughtered remnant of the Kaurava car-warriors with whom he had been engaged, and rushed impetuously, O king, to the spot where Dhananjaya's car was. Meanwhile the Kaurava force that still remained after heavy slaughter, exceedingly weakened, fled away, Bhima (as already said) beholding Arjuna, proceeded towards his brother. The unfatigued Bhima, armed with a mace, destroyed, in that battle, the portion that still remained after the greater part had been slaughtered by Arjuna, of the Kaurava host possessed of great might. Fierce as the death-night, subsisting upon men and elephants and steeds as its food, and capable of crushing walls and mansions and gates of cities, that exceedingly terrible mace of Bhima incessantly descended on men and elephants and steeds around him. That mace, O sire, slew numberless steeds and riders. With that mace the son of Pandu crushed men and steeds cased in steel armour. Struck therewith, they fell down with great noise. Biting the earth with their teeth, and bathed in blood, these, with the crowns of their heads and bows and lower limbs crushed, laid themselves down on the field, supplying all carnivorous creatures with food. Satiated with blood and flesh and marrow, and eating bones as well, that mace (of Bhimasena) became, like the death-night, difficult of being gazed at. Having slain 10,000 horses and numerous foot-soldiers, Bhima ran hither and thither in rage, armed with his mace. Then, O Bharata, thy troops, beholding Bhima mace in hand, thought that Yama himself, armed with his fatal bludgeon, was in their midst. The son of Pandu then, excited with rage, and resembling an infuriated elephant, penetrated into the elephant division (of the Kauravas), like a Makara entering the ocean. Having, with his formidable mace, penetrated into that elephant division, the enraged Bhima, within a very short time, despatched it to Yama's abode. We then beheld those infuriated elephants with spiked plates on their bodies falling on every side, with their riders and standards, like winged mountains. Having destroyed that elephant division, the mighty Bhimasena, once more riding on his car, followed Arjuna at his rear. That great host, thus slaughtered, filled with cheerlessness and about to fly away, stood almost inactive, O monarch, assailed on all sides with weapons. Beholding that host looking humble and standing inactive and almost motionless, Arjuna covered it with life-scorching shafts. Men and steeds and elephants, pierced in that battle with showers of shafts by the wielder of Gandiva, looked beautiful like Kadamva flowers with their filaments. Thus struck with Arjuna's shafts that quickly slew men and steeds and cars and elephants, loud wails, O king, arose from the Kuru army. With cries of "Oh" and "Alas," and exceedingly frightened, and huddling close to one another, thy army began to turn round with great speed. The battle, however, continued between the Kurus and the Pandavas of great might. There was not a single car-warrior or horseman or elephant-warrior or steed or elephant that was unwounded. Their coats of mail pierced with shafts and themselves bathed in blood, the troops looked blazing like a forest of flowering Asokas. Beholding Savyasaci putting forth his valour on that occasion, the Kauravas became hopeless of Karna's life. Regarding the touch of Arjuna's shafts to be unbearable, the Kauravas, vanquished by the wielder of Gandiva, fled from the field. Deserting Karna in that battle as they were being thus struck with Arjuna's shafts, they fled away in fear on all sides, loudly calling upon the Suta's son (to rescue them). Partha, however, pursued them, shooting hundreds of shafts and gladdening the Pandava warriors headed by Bhimasena. Thy sons then, O monarch, proceeded towards the car of Karna. Sinking, as they seemed to be, in a fathomless ocean, Karna then became an island unto them. The Kauravas, O monarch, like snakes without poison, took Karna's shelter, moved by the fear of the wielder of Gandiva. Indeed, even as creatures, O sire, endued with actions, from fear of death, take the shelter of virtue, thy sons, O ruler of men, from fear of the high-souled son of Pandu, took shelter with the mighty bowman Karna. Then, Karna, uninspired with fear, addressed those distressed warriors afflicted with arrows and bathed in blood, saying, "Do not fear! Come to me!" Beholding thy army vigorously broken by Partha, Karna, stretching his bow, stood desirous of slaughtering the foe. Seeing that the Kurus had left the field, Karna, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, reflecting a little, set his heart upon the slaughter of Partha and began to draw deep breaths. Bending his formidable bow, Adhiratha's son Vrisha once more rushed against the Pancalas, in the very sight of Savyasaci. Soon, however, many lords of the earth, with eyes red as blood, poured their arrowy downpours on him like clouds pouring rain upon a mountain. Then thousands of arrows, O foremost of living creatures, shot by Karna, O sire, deprived many Pancalas of their lives. Loud sounds of wailing were uttered by the Pancalas, O thou of great intelligence, while they were being thus smitten by the Suta's son, that rescuer of friends, for the sake of his friends.'" 82 "Sanjaya said, 'After the Kurus, O king, had been put to flight by the mighty car-warrior Arjuna of white steeds, the Suta's son Karna began to destroy the sons of the Pancalas with his mighty shafts, like the tempest destroying congregated masses of clouds. Felling Janamejaya's driver with broad-faced shafts called Anjalikas, he next slew the steeds of that Pancala warrior. With a number of broad-headed arrows he then pierced both Satanika and Sutasoma and then cut off the bows of both those heroes. Next he pierced Dhrishtadyumna with six arrows, and then, without the loss of a moment, he slew in that encounter the steeds of that prince. Having slain next the steeds of Satyaki, the Suta's son then slew Visoka, the son of the ruler of the Kaikayas. Upon the slaughter of the Kaikaya prince, the commander of the Kaikaya division, Ugrakarman, rushed with speed and striking Prasena, the son of Karna, with many shafts of fierce impetuosity caused him to tremble. Then Karna, with three crescent-shaped arrows, cut off the arms and the head of his son's assailant, whereupon the latter, deprived of life, fell down upon the ground from his car, like a Sala tree with its branches lopped off with an axe. Then Prasena, with many keen arrows of straight course, covered the steedless grandson of Sini, and seemed to dance upon his car. Soon, however, the son of Karna, struck by the grandson of Sini, fell down. Upon the slaughter of his son, Karna, with heart filled with rage, addressed that bull among the Sinis from desire of slaying him, saying, "Thou art slain, O grandson of Sini!" and sped at him an arrow capable of slaying all foes. Then Shikhandi cut off that arrow with three shafts of his, and struck Karna himself with three other shafts. The fierce son of the Suta then, cutting off with a couple of razor-faced arrows the bow and the standard of Shikhandi, struck and pierced Shikhandi himself with six shafts, and then cut off the head of Dhrishtadyumna's son. The high-souled son of Adhiratha then pierced Sutasoma with a very keen shaft. During the progress of that fierce battle, and after Dhrishtadyumna's son had been slain, Krishna, O lion among kings, addressed Partha, saying, "The Pancalas are being exterminated. Go, O Partha, and slay Karna." Thus addressed the mighty-armed Arjuna, that foremost of men, smiled and then proceeded on his car towards the car of Adhiratha's son desirous, on that occasion of terror, of rescuing the Pancalas slaughtered by Karna, that leader of car-warriors. Stretching his Gandiva of loud twang and fiercely striking his palms with her bow-string, he suddenly created a darkness by means of his arrows and destroyed large numbers of men and steeds and cars and standards. The echoes (of that twang) travelled through the welkin. The birds, (no longer finding room in their own element), took shelter in the caverns of mountains. With his full-drawn bow, Arjuna looked resplendent. Indeed, as the diadem-decked Partha, at that terrible moment, fell upon the foe, Bhimasena, that foremost of heroes, proceeded on his car behind that son of Pandu, protecting his rear. Those two princes then, on their cars, proceeded with great speed towards Karna, encountering their foes along the way. During that interval, the Suta's son fought fiercely, grinding the Somakas. He slew a large number of car-warriors and steeds and elephants, and covered the ten points of the compass with his shafts. Then Uttamauja and Janamejaya, and the enraged Yudhamanyu and Shikhandi, uniting with Prishata's son (Dhrishtadyumna) and uttering loud roars, pierced Karna with many shafts. Those five foremost of Pancala car-warriors rushed against Karna otherwise called Vaikartana, but they could not shake him off his car like the objects of the senses failing to shake off the person of purified soul from abstinence. Quickly cutting off their bows, standards, steeds, drivers and banners, with his shafts, Karna struck each of them with five arrows and then uttered a loud roar like a lion. People then became exceedingly cheerless, thinking that the very earth, with her mountains and trees, might split at the twang of Karna's bow while that hero, with shafts in hand touching the bow-string, was employed in shooting at his assailants and slaying his foes. Shooting his shafts with that large and extended bow of his that resembled the bow of Sakra himself, the son of Adhiratha looked resplendent like the sun, with his multitude of blazing rays, within his corona. The Suta's son then pierced Shikhandi with a dozen keen shafts, and Uttamauja with half a dozen, and Yudhamanyu with three, and then each of the other two, viz., Somaka (Janamejaya) and Prishata's son (Dhrishtadyumna) with three shafts. Vanquished in dreadful battle by the Suta's son, O sire, those five mighty car-warriors then stood inactive, gladdening their foes, even as the objects of the senses are vanquished by a person of purified soul. The five sons of Draupadi then, with other well-equipped cars, rescued those maternal uncles of theirs that were sinking in the Karna ocean, like persons rescuing from the depths of the ocean ship-wrecked merchants in the sea by means of other vessels. Then that bull among the Sinis, cutting off with his own keen shafts the innumerable arrows sped by Karna, and piercing Karna himself with many keen arrows made entirely of iron, pierced thy eldest son with eight shafts. Then Kripa, and the Bhoja chief (Kritavarma), and thy son, and Karna himself, assailed Satyaki in return with keen shafts. That foremost one, however, of Yadu's race fought with those four warriors like the chief of the Daityas fighting with the Regents of the (four) quarters. With his twanging bow stretched to its fullest limits, and from which shafts flowed incessantly, Satyaki became exceedingly irresistible like the meridian Sun in the autumnal sky. Those scorchers of foes then, viz., the mighty car-warriors among the Pancalas, once more riding on their cars and clad in mail and united together, protected that foremost one among the Sinis, like the Maruts protecting Sakra while engaged in afflicting his foes in battle. The battle fraught with the slaughter of men and steeds and elephants that then ensued between thy foes and the warriors of thy army, became so fierce that it resembled the encounter in days of old between the gods and the Asuras. Car-warriors and elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers, covered with showers of diverse weapons, began to move from one point to another. Struck by one another, they reeled or uttered wails of woe in affliction or fell down deprived of life. When such was the state of affairs, thy son Duhshasana, the younger brother of the king, fearlessly advanced against Bhima, shooting showers of shafts. Vrikodara also rushed impetuously against him, like a lion springing towards a large Ruru deer. The encounter then that took place between those two heroes incensed with each other and who engaged in battle's sport making life itself the stake, became exceedingly fierce, resembled that between Samvara and Sakra in days of old. They struck each other deeply with shafts possessed of great energy and capable of piercing each other's body, like two mighty elephants excited with lust and with juicy secretions incessantly trickling down their bodies, fighting with each other in the vicinity of a she-elephant in her season. Vrikodara, with great speed, cut off, with a couple of razor-headed arrows, the bow and the standard of thy son. With another winged arrow he pierced his antagonist's forehead and then (with a fourth) cut off from his trunk the head of the latter's driver. Prince Duhshasana, taking up another bow, pierced Vrikodara with a dozen shafts. Himself holding the reins of his steeds, he once more poured over Bhima a shower of straight arrows. Then Duhshasana sped a shaft bright as the rays of the sun, decked with gold, diamonds, and other precious gems, capable of piercing the body of his assailant, and irresistible as the stroke of Indra's thunder. His body pierced therewith, Vrikodara fell, with languid limbs and like one deprived of life and with outstretched arms, upon his own excellent car. Recovering his senses, however, he began to roar like a lion.'" 83 "Sanjaya said, 'Fighting fiercely, prince Duhshasana achieved the most difficult feats in that encounter. With a single shaft he cut off Bhima's bow, and then with six shafts he pierced his foe's driver. Having achieved those feats, the prince, endued with great activity, pierced Bhima himself with nine shafts. Indeed the high-souled warrior, without losing a moment, then pierced Bhimasena with many shafts of great energy. Filled with rage at this, Bhimasena, endued with great activity, sped at thy son a fierce dart. Beholding that terrible dart impetuously coursing towards him like a blazing brand, thy high-souled son cut it off with ten shafts shot from his bow drawn to its fullest stretch. Seeing that difficult feat achieved by him, all the warriors, filled with joy, applauded him highly. Thy son then once more pierced Bhima deeply with another shaft. Blazing with wrath at sight of Duhshasana, Bhima then addressed him, saying, "Pierced I have been, O hero, quickly and deeply, by thee. Bear now, however, once more, the stroke of my mace." Having said this, the enraged Bhima took up that terrible mace of his for Duhshasana's slaughter. Once more addressing him, he said, "O thou of wicked soul, I shall today drink thy blood on the field of battle." Thus addressed, thy son sped at Bhima with great force a fierce dart resembling Death itself. Bhima also, his form filled with wrath, whirled his terrible mace and hurled it at his antagonist. That mace, precipitately breaking Duhshasana's dart, struck thy son on his head. Indeed, perspiring like an elephant with juicy secretions trickling down his body, Bhima, in that dreadful battle, hurled his mace at the prince. With that weapon, Bhimasena forcibly threw Duhshasana down from his car at a distance measured by the length of ten bows. Struck with the impetuous mace, Duhshasana, thrown down on the ground, began to tremble. All his steeds also, O king, were slain, and his car too was reduced to atoms by that falling weapon. As regards Duhshasana himself, his armour and ornaments and attire and garlands were all displaced, and he began to writhe, afflicted with agony. Endued with great activity, Bhimasena then recollected, in the midst of that terrible battle and standing as he did amid many foremost warriors of the Kuru army, all the acts of hostility (done towards the Pandavas) by thy sons. The mighty-armed Bhima of inconceivable feats, O king, beholding Duhshasana (in that plight), and recollecting the seizure of Draupadi's tresses and her disrobing while she was ill,--indeed, the innocent Bhima, reflecting also upon the diverse other wrongs inflicted on that princess while her husbands sat with faces turned away from the scene, blazed up in wrath like fire fed with libations of clarified butter. Addressing Karna and Suyodhana and Kripa and Drona's son and Kritavarma, he said, "Today I shall slay the wretched Duhshasana. Let all the warriors protect him (if they can)." Having said this, Bhima of exceeding strength and great activity suddenly rushed, from desire of slaying Duhshasana. Like a lion of fierce impetuosity rushing towards a mighty elephant, Vrikodara, that foremost of heroes, rushed towards Duhshasana in that battle and attacked him in the very sight of Suyodhana and Karna. Jumping down from his car, he alighted on the ground, and fixed his eyes steadfastly on his fallen foe. Drawing then his whetted sword of keen edge, and trembling with rage, he placed his foot upon the throat of Duhshasana, and ripping open the breast of his enemy stretched on the ground, quaffed his warm life-blood. Then throwing him down and cutting off, O king, with that sword the head of thy son, Bhima of great intelligence, desirous of accomplishing his vow, again quaffed his enemy's blood little by little, as if for enjoying its taste. Then looking at him with wrathful eyes, he said these words, "I regard the taste of this blood of my enemy to be superior to that of my mother's milk, or honey, or clarified butter, or good wine that is prepared from honey, or excellent water, or milk, or curds, or skimmed milk, or all other kinds of drinks there are on earth that are sweet as ambrosia or nectar." Once more, Bhima of fierce deeds, his heart filled with wrath, beholding Duhshasana dead, laughed softly and said, "What more can I do to thee? Death has rescued thee from my hands." They, O king, that saw Bhimasena, while he filled with joy at having quaffed the blood of his foe, was uttering those words and stalking on the field of battle, fell down in fear. They that did not fall down at the sight, saw their weapons drop from their hands. Many, from fear, cried out feebly and looked at Bhima with half-shut eyes. Indeed, all those that stood around Bhima and beheld him drink the blood of Duhshasana, fled away, overwhelmed with fear, and saying unto one another, "This one is no human being!" When Bhima had assumed that form, people, beholding him quaff his enemy's blood, fled away with Citrasena, saying unto one another, 'This Bhima must be a Rakshasa!" Then the (Pancala) prince Yudhamanyu, at the head of his troops, fearlessly pursued the retreating Citrasena and pierced him with seven keen shafts, quickly sped one after another. At this, like a trampled snake of great energy repeatedly darting out its tongue and desirous of vomiting its poison, Citrasena turned back and pierced the Pancala prince with three shafts and his driver with six. The brave Yudhamanyu then struck off his enemy's head with a shaft equipped with goodly wings and an exceedingly keen point and sped with great care from his bow drawn to its fullest stretch. Upon the fall of his brother Citrasena, Karna, filled with wrath and displaying his prowess, put the Pandava host to flight, at which Nakula rushed against that warrior of immeasurable energy. Bhima, having slain there (at the very sight of Karna) the vindictive Duhshasana, took up a little quantity of his blood, and, endued with stentorian lungs, he said these words in the hearing of all those foremost of heroes of the world, "O wretch amongst men, here I drink thy life-blood from thy throat. Filled with joy, abuse us once more, saying 'beast, beast' (as thou didst before)." And he continued, "They that danced at us then, saying, 'beast, beast,' even we will dance at them now, repeating their own words. Our sleep at the palace at Pramanakoti, the administration of deadly poison to our food, the bites of black cobras, the setting fire to the house of lac, the robbing of our kingdom by gambling, our exile in the woods, the cruel seizure of Draupadi's beautiful tresses, the strokes of shafts and weapons in battle, our miseries at home, the other kinds of sufferings we endured at Virata's abode, all these woes borne by us through the counsels of Shakuni and Duryodhana and Radha's son, proceeded from thee as their cause. Through the wickedness of Dhritarashtra and his son, we have endured all these woes. Happiness has never been ours." Having said these words, O king, the victorious Vrikodara, once more spoke these words unto Keshava and Arjuna. Indeed, bathed in blood, with blood flowing from his wounds, with face exceedingly red, filled with great wrath, Bhimasena endued with great activity, said these words, "Ye heroes, that which I had vowed in respect of Duhshasana in battle, I have accomplished today. I will soon accomplish my other vow by slaying that second beast, viz., Duryodhana, in this sacrifice of battle. Striking the head of that wicked-souled one with my foot in the presence of the Kauravas, I shall obtain peace." Having said these words, Bhima, filled with great joy, drenched with blood, uttered loud shouts, even as the mighty and high-souled Indra of a 1,000 eyes had roared after slaying (the Asura) Vritra.'" 84 "Sanjaya said, 'After the slaughter of Duhshasana, O king, ten of thy sons, heroes that never retreated from battle, all of whom were great car-warriors, endued with mighty energy, and filled with the poison of wrath, shrouded Bhima with their shafts. Nishangin, and Kavachin, and Pasin and Dundadhara and Dhanurgraha, and Alolupa, and Saha, and Shanda, and Vatavega and Suvarchasas, these ten, afflicted at the slaughter of their brother, united together and checked the mighty-armed Bhimasena with their shafts. Resisted on all sides with their shafts by those great car-warriors, Bhima, with eyes red as fire with fury, looked resplendent like the Destroyer himself in rage. Partha, however, with ten broad-headed shafts of great impetuosity, equipped with golden wings, despatched to Yama's abode those ten Bharata princes decked with golden bracelets. Upon the fall of those ten heroes, thy army fled away in the very sight of the Suta's son, overwhelmed with the fear of the Pandavas. Then, O king, great fear entered the heart of Karna at sight of Bhima's prowess which resembled that of the Destroyer himself unto living creatures. Then Shalya, that ornament of assemblies, understanding the state of Karna's mind from a survey of his features, addressed that chastiser of foes in words suited to the hour, "Do not be grieved, O son of Radha! This deed does not become thee. Afflicted with the fear of Bhimasena, these kings are all flying away. Exceedingly pained by the calamity that has befallen his brother Duhshasana in consequence of his blood having been quaffed by the high-souled Bhima, Duryodhana is stupefied! Kripa and others, and those of the king's brothers that are still alive, with afflicted hearts, their rage quelled by sorrow, are tending Duryodhana, sitting around him. Those heroes, the Pandavas of sure aim, headed by Dhananjaya, are advancing against thee for battle. For these reasons, O tiger among men, mustering all thy prowess and keeping the duties of a Kshatriya before thy eyes, proceed against Dhananjaya. The entire burthen (of this battle) has been placed upon thee by the son of Dhritarashtra. O thou of mighty arms, bear that burthen to the best of thy power and might. In victory there will be great fame. In defeat, heaven is certain. There, O son of Radha, thy son, Vrishasena, filled with wrath at sight of the stupefaction that has overwhelmed thee, is rushing towards the Pandavas." Hearing these words of Shalya of immeasurable energy, Karna, reflecting, concluded unalterably that fighting had become unavoidable. Then Vrishasena, filled with wrath, and riding upon his own car, rushed towards that son of Pandu, viz., Vrikodara, who, armed with his mace, resembled the Destroyer himself with his fatal rod and was employed in slaughtering thy troops. That foremost of heroes, Nakula, filled with wrath, rushed at that enemy of theirs, Karna's son, striking him with arrows, like the victorious Maghavat with joyous heart rushing against (the Asura) Jambha. Then the brave Nakula, with a razor-headed shaft, cut off his enemy's standard decked with gems. With a broad-headed arrow, he next cut off the bow also of Karna's son, with a golden belt attached to it. Possessed of mighty weapons, Karna's son then, desirous of showing his regard for Duhshasana, quickly took up another bow, and pierced Nakula, the son of Pandu with many mighty celestial weapons. The high-souled Nakula, then, filled with rage, pierced his antagonist with shafts that resembled large blazing brands. At this Karna's son also, accomplished in weapons, showered celestial weapon upon Nakula. From rage engendered by the strokes of his enemy's weapon, as also from his own resplendence and the energy of his weapons, the son of Karna blazed up like a fire with libations of clarified butter. Indeed, O king, Karna's son then slew with his excellent weapons the beautiful steeds of the delicate Nakula, that were of the Vanayu breed, white in hue, and decked with trappings of gold. Alighting then from his steedless vehicle, and taking up a bright shield decked with golden moons, and armed also with a sword that was blue as the sky, Nakula, frequently jumping up, careered there like a bird. Performing diverse beautiful evolutions in the air, the son of Pandu cut off many foremost of men and steeds and elephants. Cut off with that sword, they fell down on the earth like animals cut off in a horse-sacrifice by the person appointed to that duty. 2,000 well-trained heroes, delighting in battle, hailing from diverse realms, well-paid, of sure aim, and their limbs smeared with excellent sandal-paste, were quickly cut off by the single-handed Nakula inspired with desire of victory. Then Karna's son, suddenly advancing with great speed against the rushing Nakula in that battle pierced him from every side with many keen arrows from desire of slaying him. Thus struck with shafts (by Vrishasena), Nakula struck his brave antagonist in return. Pierced by the son of Pandu, Vrishasena became filled with wrath. Protected, however, in that dreadful battle, by his brother Bhima, the high-souled Nakula achieved such terrible feats on that occasion. Filled with rage, the son of Karna then pierced with eighteen shafts the heroic Nakula who seemed to sport in that battle, while employed, unaided, in destroying the foremost of men and steeds and elephants. Deeply pierced by Vrishasena in that battle, O king, Pandu's son Nakula, that foremost of men, endued with great activity, became filled with rage and rushed in that encounter against the son of Karna from desire of slaying him. Then Vrishasena poured showers of keen shafts upon Nakula of great energy as the latter precipitately advanced against him in that battle like a hawk with outstretched wings from desire of meat. Baffling, however, his antagonist's showers of shafts, Nakula careered in diverse beautiful motions. Then Karna's son, O king, in that dreadful battle, cut off, with his mighty shafts, the shield, decked with a 1,000 stars, of Nakula, while he was careering with great activity in those beautiful motions. Without losing a moment, that resister of foes, (Vrishasena), with half a dozen sharp razor-headed shafts, then cut off that naked sword of Nakula, polished and keen-edged, made of steel, capable of bearing a great strain and of destroying the bodies of all foes, and terrible and fierce as the poison of the snake, while he was whirling it rapidly. After this, Vrishasena deeply pierced his antagonist in the centre of his chest with some well-tempered and keen shafts. Having achieved those feats in battle that were applauded by all noble persons and that could not be achieved by other men, the high-souled Nakula of great activity, afflicted with those shafts, proceeded to the car, O king, of Bhimasena. The steedless son of Madri, thus afflicted by Karna's son, sprang upon Bhima's car like a lion springing upon a mountain summit, in the sight of Dhananjaya. The high-souled and heroic Vrishasena then, filled with wrath, poured his arrowy showers upon those two mighty car-warriors for piercing those two sons of Pandu. After the destruction of that car belonging to the son of Pandu (Nakula), and after his sword also had been speedily cut off with (Vrishasena's) shafts; many other foremost of Kuru heroes, uniting together, approached the Pandava brothers, and began to strike them with showers of shafts. Then those two sons of Pandu, Bhima and Arjuna, filled with wrath, and resembling two fires fed with libations of clarified butter, poured terrible showers of arrows upon Vrishasena and the other assembled warriors around him. The son of the Wind-god then, addressing Phalguna, said, "Behold, Nakula here is being afflicted. The son of Karna is resisting us. Proceed, therefore, against Karna's son." Hearing these words, the diadem-decked (Arjuna) approached the car of his brother Vrikodara. Beholding that hero arrived near, Nakula addressed him, saying, "Do thou speedily slay this one." Thus addressed in that battle by his brother, Nakula, standing before him, the diadem-decked Arjuna, that formidable hero, precipitately caused his ape-bannered vehicle, guided by Keshava himself, to be driven towards Vrishasena.'" 85 "Sanjaya said, 'Learning that Nakula had been deprived of his car, afflicted with arrows and mangled with the weapons of Karna's son, and that he had his shafts, bow, and sword cut off, these eleven formidable resisters of all foes, the five heroic sons of Drupada, the grandson of Sini forming the sixth, and the five sons of Draupadi quickly proceeded on their loud-sounding cars drawn by bounding steeds, with banners waving in the air, and guided by accomplished drivers. Those well-armed warriors began to destroy thy elephants and cars and men and steeds with shafts that resembled formidable snakes. Then Hridika's son and Kripa and Drona's son and Duryodhana and Shakuni's son and Vrika and Kratha and Devavridha, those foremost of Kaurava car-warriors, speedily proceeded against them, armed with their bows and mounted upon their cars of rattle deep as the roar of elephants or the clouds. These Kaurava warriors, assailing those foremost of men and first of car-warriors, those eleven heroes (of the Pandava army), O king, with the mightiest of shafts, checked their progress. At this, the Kulindas, riding upon their elephants of impetuous speed that looked like mountain summits and that were of the hue of newly-risen clouds, advanced against those Kaurava heroes. Well-equipped, and covered with gold, those infuriated elephants, born in Himalayan regions and ridden by accomplished warriors longing for battle, looked resplendent like clouds in the welkin, charged with lightning. The prince of the Kulindas then vigorously assailed Kripa and his driver and steeds, with ten shafts made wholly of iron. Struck (in return) with the shafts of Sharadvata's son, the prince fell down with his elephant on the ground. The younger brother of that prince then, assailing Kripa's car with a number of lances made wholly of iron and all bright as the rays of the sun, uttered loud roars. The ruler of the Gandharas, however, cut off the head of that warrior while still uttering those roars. Upon the fall of those Kulindas, those mighty car-warriors of thy army, filled with joy, blew their sea-born conchs, and, armed with bows, rushed against their enemies. The battle then that once more took place between the Kurus on the one side and the Pandavas and the Srinjayas on the other, with arrows and scimitars and darts and swords and maces and battle-axes, became fierce and awful and exceedingly destructive of men and steeds and elephants. Car-warriors and steeds and elephants and foot-soldiers, striking one another, fell down on the ground, making the field of battle look like the welkin when congregated masses of clouds charged with lightning and producing incessant peals of thunder are assailed by fierce winds from all sides. Then the chief of the Bhojas struck the huge elephants, the car-warriors, the innumerable foot-soldiers, and the horse under Satanika. Struck with Kritavarma's shafts, these soon fell down on the ground. About this time, struck with Ashvatthama's shafts, three huge elephants equipped with all kinds of weapons, ridden by accomplished warriors, and adorned with lofty standards, fell down lifeless on the ground like gigantic cliffs riven by thunder. Then the third brother of the Kulinda chief assailed thy son Duryodhana with some excellent shafts in the centre of the chest. Thy son, however, pierced him as also his elephant with many whetted shafts. That prince of elephants then, with the prince on his back, fell down, with streams of blood issuing from every part of his body, like a mountain of red chalk in the season of rains, with red streams running down its breast, tumbling down when riven by the thunder of Sachi's lord. The Kulinda prince, however, having saved himself in time, rode another elephant. Urged by the prince, that animal assailed Kratha with his driver and steeds and car. Pierced, however, with Kratha's shafts, that elephant, with its rider, fell down like a thunder-riven hill. The ruler of the Krathas, that invincible car-warrior, however, struck with shafts by the prince born on the mountains from the back of another elephant, fell down with his steeds, driver, bow, and standard, like a mighty tree uprooted by the tempest. Then Vrika deeply pierced with a dozen shafts that prince having his abode on the Himavat as he stood on his elephant. The huge beast quickly crushed with his four legs (the Kaurava warrior) Vrika with his steeds and car. That prince of elephants then, with its rider, deeply pierced by the son of Vabhru, advanced impetuously against the latter. Vabhru's son, however, that prince of the Magadhas, afflicted with arrows by Sahadeva's son, fell down. The prince of the Kulindas then, with that elephant of his which was capable of slaying the foremost of warriors with its tusks and body, rushed impetuously towards Shakuni for slaying him. The mountaineer succeeded in afflicting Shakuni greatly. Soon, however, the chief of the Gandharas cut off his head. About this time huge elephants and steeds and car-warriors and large bands of foot, struck by Satanika, fell down on the earth, paralysed and crushed like snakes beaten by the tempest caused by Garuda's wings. Then a Kulinda warrior (on the Kaurava side), smiling the while, pierced Satanika, the son of Nakula, with many whetted arrows. Nakula's son, however, with a razor-headed arrow, cut off from his antagonist's trunk his head resembling a lotus. Then Karna's son pierced Satanika with three arrows, made wholly of iron and Arjuna also with as many. And he pierced Bhima with three arrows and Nakula with seven and Janardana with a dozen. Beholding that feat of Vrishasena, that achiever of superhuman feats, the Kauravas became filled with joy and applauded him greatly. They, however, that were conversant with Dhananjaya's prowess, regarded Vrishasena as a libation already poured on the fire. The diadem-decked Arjuna then, that slayer of hostile heroes, seeing Madri's son Nakula, that foremost of men, deprived of his steeds in the midst of all, and beholding Janardana mangled with arrows, rushed in that battle against Vrishasena who was then staying in front of the Suta's son (Karna). Like Namuci rushing against Indra, Karna's son, that great car-warrior, also rushed, in that battle, against that fierce and foremost of men, Arjuna, that warrior possessing thousands of arrows, as the latter advanced towards him. Unsupported by any one, the high-souled son of Karna, quickly piercing Partha with a shaft in that battle, uttered a loud shout, like Namuci in days of old after having pierced Indra. Once more Vrishasena pierced Partha in the left arm-pit with many formidable shafts. Piercing Krishna next with nine arrows, he struck Partha again with ten shafts. The white-steeded Arjuna, having before been pierced by Vrishasena with those formidable arrows, became slightly enraged and set his heart on the slaughter of Karna's son. The high-souled and diadem-decked Arjuna then, his brow furrowed from wrath with three lines, quickly sped from the van of battle a number of shafts for the destruction of Vrishasena in that encounter. With eyes red in wrath, that hero capable of slaying Yama himself if the latter fought with him, then laughed terribly and said unto Karna and all the other Kaurava heroes headed by Duryodhana and Drona's son, these words, "Today, O Karna, in thy very sight in this battle, I will despatch the fierce Vrishasena unto Yama's abode with my keen arrows! People say that all of you, united together, slew my son, endued with great activity, in my absence, and while he was alone and unsupported on his car. I, however, will slay thy son in the very sight of you all. Let all the Kaurava car-warriors protect him. I will slay the fierce Vrishasena. After that, I will slay thee, O fool, even I, Arjuna, in the midst of battle! Today I will, in battle, slay thee that art the root of this quarrel and that hast become so proud in consequence of Duryodhana's patronage. Putting forth my strength, I will certainly slay thee in this battle, and Bhimasena will slay this Duryodhana, this wretch among men, through whose evil policy this quarrel born of dice hath arisen." Having said these words, Arjuna rubbed the string of his bow and took aim at Vrishasena in that battle, and sped, O king, a number of shafts for the slaughter of Karna's son. The diadem-decked Arjuna then, fearlessly and with great force, pierced Vrishasena with ten shafts in all his vital limbs. With four fierce razor-headed arrows he cut off Vrishasena's bow and two arms and head. Struck with Partha's shafts, the son of Karna, deprived of arms and head, fell down on the earth from his car, like a gigantic shala adorned with flowers falling down from a mountain summit. Beholding his son, thus struck with arrows, fall down from his vehicle, the Suta's son Karna, endued with great activity and scorched with grief on account of the death of his son, quickly proceeded on his car, inspired with wrath, against the car of the diadem-decked Partha. "'Indeed, beholding his son slain in his sight by the white-steeded Arjuna in battle, the high-souled Karna, filled with great wrath, rushed against Krishna and Arjuna.'" 86 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the gigantic and roaring Karna, incapable of being resisted by the very gods, advancing like the surging sea, that bull amongst men, viz., he of Dasharha's race, addressed Arjuna, saying, "That car-warrior having white steeds and owning Shalya for his driver cometh hither with whom thou art to contend in battle. Therefore, O Dhananjaya, summon all thy coolness. Behold then, O son of Pandu, the well-equipped car of Karna. White steeds are yoked unto it and Radha's son himself is the warrior that stands upon it. Teeming with banners and decked with rows of bells, it looks like a celestial car borne along the welkin by steeds white in hue. Behold also the standard of the high-souled Karna, bearing the device of the elephant's rope, and looking like the bow of Indra himself that divides the firmament by a clear line. Behold Karna as he advanceth from desire of doing what is agreeable to Dhritarashtra's son, shooting showers of shafts like the clouds pouring torrents of rain. There the royal chief of the Madras, stationed on the fore-part of the car, guideth the steeds of Radha's son of immeasurable energy. Hear the peal of their drums and the fierce blare of their conchs. Hear, O son of Pandu, the diverse leonine roars coming from every side. Hear the terrible twang, silencing all other loud sounds, of the bow (Vijaya) stretched by Karna of immeasurable energy. There the mighty car-warriors among the Pancalas, with their followers, are breaking like a herd of deer in the great forest at the sight of an angry lion. It behoveth thee, O son of Kunti, to slay the Suta's son with every care. No other person save thee can venture to bear the shafts of Karna. It is well known to me that thou art competent to vanquish in battle the three worlds with all their mobile and immobile creatures including the very gods and the Gandharvas. What need be said about battling with that puissant one, when people are incapable of even gazing at him, viz., the fierce and terrible Isana, that great god, the three-eyed Sarva, otherwise called Kapardin? Thou, however, hadst, by battle, gratified that god of gods himself, that Siva who is the source of bliss unto all creatures, that deity called Sthanu. The other deities also have all given thee boons. Through the grace, O Partha, of that god of gods, that deity armed with a trident, slay Karna, O mighty-armed one, like Indra slaying the Asura Namuci. Let prosperity be ever with thee, O Partha, and do thou obtain victory in battle." "'Arjuna said, "My victory, O Krishna, is certain. There is no doubt in this, since thou, O slayer of Madhu, that art the master of all the worlds, art pleased with me. Urge the steeds, O Hrishikesha, and my car, O great car-warrior! Today Phalguna will not return from battle without slaying Karna. Behold Karna slain today and cut in pieces with my shafts. Or, O Govinda, thou wilt today behold me slain with (Karna's) arrows. That terrible battle, capable of stupefying the three worlds, is at hand. As long as the earth will last, people will speak of it." Saying these words unto Krishna who is never tired with exertion, Partha quickly proceeded on his car against Karna like an elephant against a rival elephant. Once more Partha of great energy said unto Krishna, that chastiser of foes, these words, "Urge the steeds, O Hrishikesha, for time passeth." Thus addressed by the high-souled son of Pandu, Keshava wished him victory and urged steeds as fleet as thought. Then that car of Pandu's son, possessed of great speed, soon reached the front of Karna's car.'" 87 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding Vrishasena slain, Karna, filled with grief and rage, shed tears from his eyes for the death of his son. Endued with great energy, with eyes red as copper from rage, Karna proceeded in the face of his foe, having summoned Dhananjaya to battle. Then those two cars, both possessed of solar effulgence and covered with tiger-skins, when they came together, looked like two suns close to each other. Both having white steeds and both crushers of foes, those two great bowmen, those two warriors possessed of solar effulgence, looked resplendent like the sun and the moon in the firmament. Beholding those two warriors that resembled Indra and Virochana's son (Vali) carefully preparing for battle for the conquest of the three worlds, all creatures were filled with wonder. Seeing those two warriors rushing towards each other with the clatter of car-wheels, the twang of bows, the sound of palms, the whizz of arrows, and leonine shouts, and seeing also their standards, viz., that of Karna bearing the elephant's rope and that of Partha bearing the ape, approach each other, all the lords of the earth became filled with wonder. Seeing those two car-warriors engaged with each other, O Bharata, all the kings uttered leonine shouts and cheered them repeatedly with applause. Beholding that single combat between Partha and Karna, thousands of combatants there slapped their armpits and waved their garments in the air. The Kauravas beat their musical instruments and blew their numerous conchs for gladdening Karna. Similarly, all the Pandavas, for gladdening Dhananjaya, caused every point of the compass to resound with the blasts of their trumpets and conchs. With those leonine shouts and slaps on armpits and other loud cries and roars of brave warriors, tremendous became the noise there on the occasion of that encounter between Karna and Arjuna. People beheld those two tigers among men, those two foremost of car-warriors, stationed on their cars, each armed with his formidable bow, each equipped with arrows and darts, and each owning a lofty standard. Both were clad in mail, both had scimitars tied to their belts, both had white steeds, and both were adorned with excellent conchs. One had Krishna for driver on his car, and the other had Shalya. Both of them were great car-warriors and both looked alike. Both possessed of leonine necks and long arms, the eyes of both were red, and both were adorned with garlands of gold. Both were armed with bows that seemed to flash like lightning, and both were adorned with wealth of weapons. Both had yak-tails for being fanned therewith, and both were decked with white umbrellas held over them. Both had excellent quivers and both looked exceedingly handsome. The limbs of both were smeared with red sandal-paste and both looked like infuriated bulls. Both were broad-necked like the lion, both were broad-chested, and both endued with great strength. Challenging each other, O king, each desired to slay the other. And they rushed against each other like two mighty bulls in a cow-pen. They were like a couple of infuriated elephants or of angry mountains or of infant snakes of virulent poison or of all-destroying Yamas. Enraged with each other like Indra and Vritra, they looked like the sun and the moon in splendour. Filled with wrath, they resembled two mighty planets risen for the destruction of the world at the end of the Yuga. Both of them born of celestial fathers, and both resembling gods in beauty, they were of godlike energy. Indeed, they looked like the sun and the moon come of their own accord on the field of battle. Both of them endued with great might, both filled with pride in battle, they were armed with diverse weapons. Beholding those two tigers among men, those two heroes endued with the impetuosity of tigers, thy troops, O monarch, were filled with great joy. Seeing those two tigers amongst men, viz., Karna and Dhananjaya, engaged in battle, a doubt entered the hearts of all as to which of them would be victorious. Both armed with superior weapons, and both well-practised in battle, both made the welkin resound with the slaps on their armpits. Both possessed of great celebrity in consequence of prowess and might, they resembled the Asura Samvara and the chief of the celestials in respect of their skill in battle. Both equal to Kartavirya or Dasaratha's son in battle, both resembled Vishnu himself in energy or Bhava himself in fight. Both had white steeds, O king, and both were borne on foremost of cars. Both of them, again, had foremost of drivers in that great battle. Beholding, O monarch, those two great car-warriors looking resplendent on their cars, the bands of Siddhas and Charanas that came there became filled with wonder. The Dhartarashtras then, O bull of Bharata's race, with their troops, encompassed the high-souled Karna, that ornament of battle, without losing any time. Similarly the Pandavas headed by Dhrishtadyumna, filled with joy, encompassed that high-souled Partha who was unrivalled in battle. Karna became the stake, O monarch, of thy army in that battle, while Partha became the stake of the Pandavas. The soldiers of both sides were as members of that assembly and became the spectators of that game. Indeed, as regards the parties engaged in that game of battle, either victory or defeat was certain. Those two then, Karna and Arjuna, for victory or the reverse, began the match between ourselves and the Pandavas both standing on the field of battle. Skilled in fight, the two heroes, O monarch, in that encounter, became highly enraged with each other and wished to slay each other. Desiring to take each other's life, like Indra and Vritra, O lord, they faced each other like two mighty comets of terrible form. Then in the sky, differences and disputes, accompanied with revilings, arose among the creatures there, O bull of Bharata's race, on the subject of Karna and Arjuna. All the inhabitants of the world, O sire, were heard to differ amongst themselves. The gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Pishacas, the Snakes, the Rakshasas, adopted opposite sides in that encounter between Karna and Arjuna. The welkin, O monarch, with all the stars, became anxious on Karna's account, while the wide earth became so on Partha's account, like the mother for her son. The rivers, the seas, the mountains, O best of men, the trees, the deciduous plants and herbs, took the side of the diadem-decked Arjuna. The Asuras, Yatudhanas, the Guhyakas, O scorcher of foes, and ravens and other rangers of the sky, sided with Karna. All the gems and precious jewels, the four Vedas with the histories as the fifth, the Upavedas, the Upanishads, with all their mysteries, and the compilations, and Vasuki, and Citrasena, and Takshaka, and Upatakshaka, and all the mountains, and all the offspring of Kadru with their children, all the great snakes endued with poison, and the Nagas, took the side of Arjuna. Airavata and his children, the offspring of Surabhi, the offspring of Vaisali, and the Bhogins sided with Arjuna. The smaller snakes all sided with Karna. Wolves and wild stags and all kinds of auspicious animals and birds were, O king, for victory to Partha. The Vasus, the Maruts, the Sadhyas, the Rudras, the Vishvedevas and the Ashvinis, and Agni and Indra and Soma and Pavana, and the ten points of the compass, became the partisans of Dhananjaya, while all the Adityas sided with Karna. The Vaishyas, the Shudras, the Sutas, and those castes that were of a mixed origin, all, O king, adopted the side of Radha's son. The celestials, however, with the pitris, and with all that were numbered with them as also with their followers, and Yama and Vaishravana and Varuna were on the side of Arjuna. The Brahmanas, the Kshatriyas, the sacrifices, and those gifts called dakshinas, were for Arjuna. The pretas, and Pishacas, many carnivorous animals and birds, the Rakshasas with all the monsters of the sea, the dogs, and the jackals were for Karna. The diverse tribes of celestial and regenerate and royal Rishis were for the son of Pandu. The Gandharvas headed by Tumvuru, O king, were on the side of Arjuna. With the offspring of Pradha and Mauni, the several classes of Gandharvas and Apsaras, and many wise sages, having for their vehicles wolves and stags and elephants and steeds and cars and foot, and clouds and the wind, came there for witnessing the encounter between Karna and Arjuna. The gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Nagas, the Yakshas, the birds, the great Rishis versed in the Vedas, the pitris that subsist upon the gifts called svadha, and asceticism and the sciences, and the (celestial) herbs with diverse virtues, came, O monarch, and took up their stations in the welkin, making a great noise. Brahman, with the regenerate Rishis and the Lords of creatures, and Bhava himself on his car, came to that part of the welkin. Beholding those two high-souled ones, Karna and Dhananjaya, about to encounter each other, Shakra himself said, "Let Arjuna vanquish Karna." Surya, however, said, "Let Karna vanquish Arjuna. Indeed, let my son Karna, slaying Arjuna, gain the victory in this battle. Let my son, slaying Karna, win victory." Even thus did Surya and Vasava, those two foremost of personages, who were there and had adopted opposite sides, dispute with each other. Beholding those two high-souled ones, Karna and Dhananjaya, about to engage themselves in battle, the gods and the Asuras adopted opposite sides. The three worlds with the celestial Rishis and all the gods and all other creatures, trembled at the sight. The gods were on the side of Partha, while the Asuras were on that of Karna. Thus all creatures were interested in that encounter, siding with this or that leader of car-warriors, the Kuru or the Pandava hero. Beholding the Self-born Lord of Creation (viz., Brahman), the gods urged him, saying, "Let, O god, the success of these two lions among men be equal. Let not the vast universe be destroyed in consequence of this encounter between Karna and Arjuna. O Selfborn one, say but the word, let the success of these two be equal." Hearing these words, Maghavat, bowing down unto the Grandsire, represented this unto that god of gods, that foremost one of all intelligent beings, saying, "Formerly it was said by thy holy self that the two Krishnas are always sure to win victory. Let it be (now) as thou then saidest. Be gratified with me, O holy one!" At this, Brahman and Isana replied unto the chief of the celestials, saying, "The victory of the high-souled Vijaya is certain, of that Savyasaci who gratified the eater of sacrificial libations in the forest of Khandava and who, coming to heaven, rendered assistance to thee, O Sakra! Karna is on the side of the Danavas. It is proper, therefore, that he should meet with defeat. By this, without doubt, the purposes of the gods will be achieved. One's own business, O chief of the celestials, should always be important. The high-souled Phalguna, again, is devoted to truth and to morality. He must always be victorious, without doubt. He by whom the high-souled and holy god having the bull on his standard was gratified, why should not he, O thou of a hundred eyes, be victorious,--he, that is, who hath for the driver of his car that Lord of the universe, Vishnu himself? Possessed of great energy of mind and great strength, Partha is a hero, accomplished in arms and endued with ascetic merit. Possessed also of great energy of body, he beareth the entire science of weapons. Indeed, Partha hath every accomplishment. He ought to be victorious, since that would accomplish the purposes of the gods. In consequence of his greatness, Partha transgresses destiny itself, whether favourable or unfavourable, and when he does so, a great destruction of creatures takes place. When the two Krishnas are excited with wrath, they show regard for nothing. These two bulls among beings are the Creators of all real and unreal things. These two are Nara and Narayana, the two ancient and best of Rishis. There is none to rule over them. They are rulers over all, perfectly fearless, they are scorchers of all foes. In heaven or among human beings, there is none equal to either of them. The three worlds with the celestial Rishis and the Charanas are behind these two. All the gods and all creatures walk behind them. The entire universe exists in consequence of the power of these two. Let Karna, that bull among men, obtain these foremost of regions of bliss here. Let him obtain identity with the Vasus or the Maruts. Let him, with Drona and Bhishma, be worshipped in heaven, for Vikartana's son is brave and is a hero. Let the victory, however, belong to the two Krishnas." After those two foremost ones among the gods (Brahman and Isana), said so, the deity of a 1,000 eyes, worshipping those words of Brahman and Isana and saluting all creatures himself said, "Ye have heard what has been said by the two gods for the benefit of the universe. It will be even so and not otherwise. Stay ye then, with cheerful hearts." Hearing these words of Indra, all creatures, O sire, became filled with wonder and applauded, O king, that deity. The celestials then showered diverse kinds of fragrant flowers and blew their trumpets. Indeed, the gods, the Danavas and the Gandharvas all waited there for witnessing that matchless single combat between those two lions among men. The two cars, O king, upon which Karna and Arjuna were stationed, had white steeds yoked unto them both. And both had excellent standards, and both produced a loud rattle. Many foremost of heroes, approaching the brave Vasudeva and Arjuna as also Shalya and Karna, began each to blow his conch. The battle then commenced (between the two warriors), overwhelming all timid persons with fear. Fiercely they challenged each other like Sakra and Samvara. The standards of the two heroes, perfectly bright, looked exceedingly beautiful on their cars, like the planets Rahu and Ketu risen in the firmament at the time of the universal dissolution. The elephant's rope on Karna's banner, looking like a snake of virulent poison and made of jewels and gems and exceedingly strong and resembling the bow of Indra, looked resplendent (as it waved in the air). That foremost of apes, again, belonging to Partha, with jaws wide open and terrible, and difficult of being gazed at, like the sun himself, inspired fear by his formidable teeth. The impetuous Ape on the standard of the wielder of Gandiva, becoming desirous of battle, rushed from his station and fell upon Karna's standard. Endued with great impetuosity, the Ape, darting forward, struck the elephant's rope with his nails and teeth, like Garuda falling upon a snake. Decked with rows of little bells, hard as iron, and resembling the fatal noose (in the hands of Yama or Varuna), the elephant's rope, filled with wrath, closed with the Ape. Thus in that fierce single combat between those two heroes, which was the result of what had been settled at the time of the match at dice, their standards first battled with each other. Meanwhile the steeds of the one neighed at the steeds of the other. The lotus-eyed Keshava pierced Shalya with his keen glances. The latter also cast similar glances at the former. Vasudeva, however, vanquished Shalya with those glances of his, while Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, vanquished Karna with his glances. Then the Suta's son, smilingly addressing Shalya, said, "If Partha by any means slays me in battle today, tell me truly, O friend, what thou wilt do after that." Shalya answered, saying, "If thou art slain, I myself will slay both Krishna and Dhananjaya." Once more the ruler of the Madras said, "If, O Karna, the white steeded Arjuna slays thee in battle today, I myself, on a single car, will slay both Madhava and Phalguna."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Arjuna also asked Govinda a similar question. Krishna, however, smiling, said unto Partha these words of grave import, "The Sun himself may fall down from his place, the Earth herself may split into a 1,000 fragments; fire itself may become cold. Still Karna will not be able to slay thee, O Dhananjaya! If, however, any such occurrence takes place, know then that the destruction of the universe will be at hand. As regards myself, I will, using my bare arms, slay both Karna and Shalya in battle." Hearing these words of Krishna, the ape-bannered Arjuna, smiling, replied unto Krishna who was never fatigued with exertion, saying, "Shalya and Karna, united together, are not a match for myself alone, O Janardana! Thou shalt today, O Krishna, behold Karna with his standard and banners with Shalya and his car and steeds, with his umbrella and armour and darts and shafts and bow, cut in pieces with my shafts in battle. Thou shalt today behold him with his car and steeds and darts and armour and weapons, reduced to dust like a tree in the forest crushed by a tusker. Today the widowhood of the wives of Radha's son is at hand. Verily, they must have in their (last night's) dreams seen signs of approaching evil, O Mahadeva! Verily, thou shalt today see the wives of Karna become widows. I cannot restrain my wrath at what was done before now by this fool of little foresight when he beheld Krishna dragged to the assembly and when laughing at us he abused us repeatedly in vile words. Today, O Govinda, thou shalt behold Karna crushed by me like a tree with its load of flowers crushed by an infuriated elephant. Today, O slayer of Madhu, thou shalt, after Karna's fall, hear those sweet words, 'By good luck, O thou of Vrishni's race, victory hath been thine!' Thou shalt today comfort the mother of Abhimanyu with a lighter heart for having paid thy debt to the foe. Today thou shalt, filled with joy, comfort thy paternal aunt Kunti. Today thou shalt, O Madhava, comfort Krishna of tearful face and king Yudhishthira the just with words sweet as nectar."'" 88 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile the welkin, filled with gods and Nagas and Asuras and Siddhas and Yakshas and with large bands of Gandharvas and Rakshasas, and Asuras and regenerate Rishis and royal sages and birds of excellent feathers, assumed a wonderful aspect. All human beings assembled there beheld those beings of wonderful aspect staying in the sky, and the sky itself resounded with the voice of musical instruments and song and adulatory hymns and laughter and dance, and diverse other kinds of charming sounds. Then both the Kaurava and the Pandava warriors, filled with joy, and causing the earth and the ten points of the compass to resound with the voice of musical instruments, the blare of conchs, and leonine roars and the din of battle, began to slaughter their foes. Teeming with men and steeds and elephants and cars and weapons, unbearable to combatants in consequence of the falling of maces and swords and darts and rapiers, abounding in heroes, and crowded with lifeless bodies, the field of battle, crimsoned with gore, looked exceedingly resplendent. Indeed, the battle between the Kurus and the Pandavas then resembled that in days of yore between the gods and the Asuras. After that fierce and awful battle had commenced between Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's son, each of those two heroes, clad in excellent mail, shrouded the ten points of the compass and the host opposed to him with keen and straight arrows. A darkness having been caused there with the arrows shot on that occasion, neither thy warriors nor the enemy could any longer see anything. From fear all the warriors there sought the protection of either Karna or Arjuna like rays of light spread out in the welkin converging towards either the sun or the moon. The two heroes then, each baffling the other's weapons with his own, like the east and the west winds encountering each other, looked exceedingly resplendent like the sun and the moon risen after dispelling the darkness caused by the clouds and covering the welkin. Each having encouraged his troops, saying, "Do not fly away!" the enemy and thy warriors stood their ground, encircling those two mighty car-warriors like the gods and the Asuras standing around Vasava and Samvara. The two armies then greeted those two best of men with the sounds of drums and other instruments and with leonine roars, at which those two bulls among men looked beautiful like the sun and the moon greeted by roaring clouds gathered around. Each armed with a formidable bow drawn to a complete circle and looking like a (solar or lunar) corona, those two heroes of great splendour, shooting, in that battle thousands of arrows that constituted their rays, resembled two unbearable suns risen at the end of the yuga for burning the entire universe with its mobile and immobile creatures. Both invincible, both capable of exterminating foes, each desirous of slaying the other; and each displaying his skill upon the other, those two warriors, Karna and the son of Pandu, closed fearlessly with each other in that dreadful battle, like Indra and the asura Jambha. Invoking the mightiest of weapons then, those two formidable bowmen began, with their terrible shafts, to slay innumerable men and steeds and elephants as also to strike each other, O king! Afflicted once more by those two foremost of men, the troops of both the Kurus and the Pandavas, consisting of elephants and foot-soldiers and horsemen and car-warriors, fled away on all sides like other animals in the forest when assailed by the lion. Then Duryodhana, and the chief of the Bhojas, and Subala's son, and Kripa, and the son of Sharadvata's daughter, these five great car-warriors, assailed Dhananjaya and Keshava with shafts capable of producing great pain. Dhananjaya, however, with his shafts, cut off at the same time the bows, the quivers, the steeds, the elephants, and the cars with their drivers, of those warriors, and mangling every one of them with excellent shafts, pierced the Suta's son with a dozen arrows. Then a hundred cars, a hundred elephants, and a number of Saka and Tukhara and Yavana horsemen, accompanied by some of the foremost combatants among the Kambojas, quickly rushed against Arjuna from desire of slaying him. Speedily cutting off with the shafts and razor-headed arrows in his hands the excellent weapons of his foes, as also their heads, and steeds, and elephants, and cars, Dhananjaya felled his contending enemies on the field. Then in the welkin blasts of celestial trumpets were blown by the excellent gods. These were mingled with the praises of Arjuna. Blown by gentle breezes, excellent floral showers, fragrant and auspicious, fell (upon Arjuna's head). Beholding that incident, which was witnessed by gods and men, all creatures, O king, were filled with wonder. Only thy son and the Suta's son who were both of the same opinion, felt neither pain nor wonder. Then Drona's son, catching hold of Duryodhana's hand, and adopting a soothing tone, addressed thy son, saying, "Be gratified, O Duryodhana! Make peace with the Pandavas. There is no need for quarrel. Fie on war! The preceptor, conversant with the mightiest of weapons and like unto Brahma itself, hath been slain. Other bulls among men, headed by Bhishma, have also been slain. As regards myself, I am unslayable, as also my maternal uncle. Rule the kingdom for ever, (sharing it) with the sons of Pandu. Dissuaded by me, Dhananjaya will abstain. Janardana also doth not desire hostilities. Yudhishthira is always engaged in the good of all creatures. Vrikodara is obedient to him. So also are the twins. Peace being made between thee and the Parthas, all creatures will be benefited, through, as it would seem, thy desire. Let the kings that are still alive go back to their homes. Let the troops abstain from hostilities. If thou dost not listen to my words, O king, struck by foes in battle, thou wilt have to burn with grief. Thou hast beheld, as well as the universe, what has been achieved by the single-handed Arjuna decked with diadem and garlands. The slayer of Vala himself could not achieve its like, nor the Destroyer, nor Prachetas, nor the illustrious king of the Yakshas. Dhananjaya, as regards his merits, is even much greater than that. He will never transgress whatever I say unto him. He will always follow thee. Be thou gratified, O king, for the benefit of the universe. Thou always honourest me greatly. I, too, bear a great friendship for thee. It is for this that I say so unto thee. I shall dissuade Karna also, provided thou art inclined to peace. Discerning persons say that there are four kinds of friends, viz., those that are naturally so, those that are made so by conciliation, those that become so through wealth, and lastly those brought under subjection by the exercise of power. All these elements are owned by thee with regard to the sons of Pandu. The Pandavas, O hero, are naturally thy friends. Obtain them again as friends for certain by conciliation. If upon thyself being gratified, they agree to become friends, do thou, O king of kings, act in that way." These beneficial words having been said unto him by his friends, Duryodhana reflected for some time. Drawing deep breaths, he then, with a cheerless heart, said, "It is as thou, O friend, hast said. Listen, however, to the words that I would say unto thee. The wicked-hearted Vrikodara, having slain Duhshasana like a tiger, spoke words that still dwell in my heart. Thou also heardest the same. How then can there be peace? Arjuna again will not be able to bear Karna in battle, like a tempest whose force is weakened when encountering the mighty mountains of Meru. Nor will the sons of Pritha have the least confidence in me, thinking of the many acts of forceful hostility (done by me towards them). Nor, O preceptor's son of unfading glory, doth it behove thee to say unto Karna now 'Abstain from battle!' Phalguna is exceedingly tired today. Karna will soon slay him". Having with humility said these words repeatedly unto the preceptor's son, thy son commanded his own troops, saying, "Armed with arrows, rush against and slay these foes. Why stand ye inactive?"'" 89 "Sanjaya said, 'Then when the blare of conchs and the peal of drums became very loud, those two foremost of men, both owning white steeds, the Suta's son Vikartana and Arjuna, encountered each other in consequence, O king, of thy son's evil policy. Those two heroes endued with great impetuosity, Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's son, closed with each other like two infuriated Himalayan elephants, both of full-grown tusks, fighting with each other for the sake of a she-elephant in her season. Like a mass of clouds encountering another mass, or a mountain encountering a mountain, those two warriors, both pouring showers of arrows, encountered each other, their bows loudly twanging the while, and the wheels of their cars producing a deafening clatter, and their bow-strings and palms emitting loud sounds. Like two mountains, both endued with tall cliffs and abounding in trees and creepers and herbs and both teeming with the diverse other denizens that are natural to them, moving towards each other for an encounter, those two mighty warriors encountered each other, each striking the other with mighty weapons. "'The combat between the two heroes became furious like that between the chief of the celestials and Virocana's son in days of yore. Incapable of being endured by others and marked by a river whose distasteful water consisted of blood, the limbs of those two heroes, as also their drivers and animals, became exceedingly mangled. Like two large lakes, both teeming with lotuses of diverse kinds and fish and tortoises, and echoing with the voices of diverse kinds of fowl, and softly stirred by the wind, approaching each other, those two cars graced with standards approached each other. Both endued with prowess equal to that of the great Indra, both resembling the great Indra himself, those two mighty car-warriors struck each other with shafts that resembled the great Indra's thunder, like the great Indra himself and (the asura) Vritra. "'Both the armies consisting of cars and elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers, all equipped with beautiful armour and ornaments and robes and weapons, and those also that were in the welkin, were inspired with fear upon beholding that encounter of wonderful aspect between Arjuna and Karna. Others among the spectators, filled with joy and uttering leonine shouts, raised their arms, waving their fingers or the pieces of cloth they held, when Arjuna rushed against the son of Adhiratha, from desire of slaughter, like one infuriated elephant rushing against another. "'The Somakas then loudly shouted to Partha, saying, "Be quick, O Arjuna, go and pierce Karna. Cut off his head without delay, and (with it) the desire of Dhritarashtra's son for kingdom." Similarly many warriors of ours that were there, said unto Karna, "Proceed, proceed, O Karna, and slay Arjuna with keen shafts. Let the sons of Pritha once more go to the woods forever." "'Then Karna first pierced Partha in that encounter, with ten mighty shafts. Arjuna pierced him in return with ten keen-pointed shafts, shot with great vigour, in the centre of the chest. Indeed, the Suta's son and Arjuna then mangled each other with many shafts equipped with goodly wings. Desirous of obtaining advantage of each other's lapses in that dreadful encounter, with cheerful hearts they rushed against each other fiercely. "'Rubbing his two arms and the string also of Gandiva, that fierce bowman, Arjuna, then sped showers of cloth-yard shafts, and Nalikas and arrows equipped with heads like boar's ears and razors, and Anjalikas, and crescent-shaped arrows. Those arrows of Partha, O king, spread over the welkin, penetrated into Karna's car like flights of birds, with heads bent down, penetrating in the evening into a tree for roosting there in the night. All those arrows, however, O king, that Arjuna, that victor over all foes, with furrowed brow and angry glances, sped at Karna, all those successive showers of shafts shot by the son of Pandu, were cut off by the Suta's son with his own arrows. "'The son of Indra then sped at Karna a fiery weapon capable of slaying all foes. Covering the earth and the welkin and the ten points of the compass and the very course of the sun with its effulgence, it caused his own body also to blaze up with light. The robes of all the warriors took fire, at which they fled away. Loud sounds also arose there, like what is heard when a forest of bamboos in a wilderness is on fire. Beholding that fiery weapon acting on all sides, the Suta's son Karna of great valour shot in that encounter the varunastra for quenching it. That conflagration then, in consequence of Karna's weapon, became quenched. "'A large mass of clouds quickly caused all the points of the compass to be enveloped with darkness. Those clouds whose extremities presented the aspect of mountains, surrounding every side, flooded the earth with water. That fierce conflagration, though it was such, was still quenched by those clouds in a trice. The entire welkin and all the directions, cardinal and subsidiary, were shrouded by clouds. Thus shrouded by clouds, all the points of the compass became dark and nothing could be seen. "'Then Arjuna dispelled those clouds caused by Karna, by means of the vayavyastra. After this, Dhananjaya, incapable of being over-mastered by foes inspired Gandiva, its string, and his shafts, with mantras, and invoked into existence another weapon that was the favourite of the chief of the celestials and that resembled the thunder in energy and prowess. Then razor-headed arrows, and Anjalikas, and crescent-shaped shafts, and Nalikas, and cloth-yard shafts and those equipped with heads like the boar's ear, all keen and sharp, issued from Gandiva in thousands, endued with the force and impetuosity of the thunder. Possessed of great might and great energy, those impetuous and keen shafts equipped with vulturine feathers piercing all the limbs, the steeds, the bow, the yoke, the wheels, and the standard of Karna, quickly penetrated into them like snakes frightened by Garuda penetrating into the earth. Pierced all over with arrows and bathed in blood, (the high-souled) Karna then, with eyes rolling in wrath, bending his bow of enduring string and producing a twang as loud as the roar of the sea, invoked into existence the Bhargava weapon. Cutting off Partha's showers of shafts proceeding from the mouth of that weapon of Indra (which Arjuna had shot), Karna, having thus baffled his antagonist's weapon with his own, destroyed cars and elephants and foot-soldiers (of the Pandava army). Unable to endure the feats of Arjuna in that fierce battle, the mighty car-warrior Karna did this, through the energy of the Bhargava weapon. Filled with wrath and possessed of great activity, the Suta's son, that foremost of men, laughing at the two Krishnas, pierced the foremost of Pancala warriors with well shot arrows in that battle. Then the Pancalas and the Somakas, O king, thus afflicted by Karna with showers of shafts in that encounter, became filled with wrath and uniting together pierced the Suta's son with keen arrows from every side. Quickly cutting off those arrows with his own, the Suta's son, vigorously agitating them in that battle, afflicted with many shafts the cars, the elephants, and the steeds of the Pancalas. Their bodies pierced with those shafts of Karna, they fell down, deprived of life, on the earth, making loud sounds, like mighty elephants slain by an angry lion of terrible strength. Having slain those foremost of warriors, those heroes endued with great strength, those leaders of the Pancala forces who had always challenged him (to battle), Karna, O king, as he shot his arrows, looked beautiful, like a mass of clouds pouring torrents of rain. Then thy warriors, thinking that Karna had won the victory, clapped loudly and uttered leonine roars. O chief of the Kurus, all of them then regarded the two Krishnas as brought by Karna under his power, seeing that valour, incapable of being borne by foes, of the mighty car-warrior Karna. Beholding that weapon of Dhananjaya frustrated by Karna in the midst of battle, the angry son of the Wind-god, with eyes blazing with wrath, began to squeeze his hands. Indeed, the wrathful Bhima, his anger being provoked, drew deep breaths and addressing Arjuna of true aim, said, "How, O Jishnu, could this wretch fallen off from virtue, this Suta's son, putting forth his might in battle, slay so many foremost of Pancala warriors, in thy sight? Before now thou couldst not be conquered by the very gods or the Kalakeyas. Thou receivedst the touch of the arms of Sthanu himself. How, then, O diadem-decked Arjuna, could the Suta's son pierce thee first with ten long shafts such as are used by car-warriors? That the Suta's son should today have succeeded in baffling the arrows shot by thee seems to me to be very amazing. Recollect the woes of Krishna, and those disagreeable, keen, and cutting words that this wicked-souled and fearless son of a Suta used towards us, viz., 'Sesame seeds without kernel!' Recollecting all this, O Savyasaci, quickly slay the wretched Karna in battle today. Why, O diadem-decked Arjuna, dost thou show such indifference (towards this act)? This is not the time for showing thy indifference to Karna's slaughter. That patience with which thou didst vanquish all creatures and feed Agni at Khandava, with that patience, slay thou the Suta's son. I also will crush him with my mace." Then Vasudeva, beholding Partha's shafts baffled by Karna, said unto the former, "What is this, O diadem-decked Arjuna, that Karna should succeed in crushing thy weapons today with this? Why dost thou, O hero, lose thy wits? Markest thou not that the Kauravas, (standing behind Karna), are even now shouting in joy? Indeed, all of them know that thy weapons are being baffled by Karna with his. That patience with which, Yuga after Yuga, thou hadst slain persons having the quality of darkness for their weapons, as also terrible Kshatriyas, and Asuras born of pride, in many a battle--with that patience do thou slay Karna today. Putting forth thy might, strike off the head of that foe of thine with this Sudarsana, of edge keen as a razor, that I give unto thee, like Sakra striking off the head of his foe Namuci, with the thunderbolt. That patience with which thou didst gratify the illustrious deity Mahadeva in the guise of a hunter, summoning that patience once again, O hero, slay the Suta's son with all his followers. After that, bestow upon king Yudhishthira the earth with her belt of seas, her towns and villages, and wealth, and from off whose surface all foes will have been removed. By that act, O Partha, do thou also win unrivalled fame." Thus addressed (by Krishna), the high-souled Partha of exceeding might set his heart upon the slaughter of the Suta's son. Indeed, urged by Bhima and Janardana, and recollecting (his woes), and taking an internal survey of himself, and calling to mind the object for which he had come to this world, he addressed Keshava, saying, "I will now invoke into existence a mighty and fierce weapon for the good of the world and the destruction of the Suta's son. Let me have thy permission, as also Brahman's and Bhava's, and of all those that are conversant with Brahma." Having said these words unto the holy Keshava, Savyasaci of immeasurable soul bowed unto Brahman and invoked into existence that excellent irresistible weapon called brahmastra which could be applied by the mind alone. Baffling that weapon, however, Karna looked beautiful as he continued, like a cloud pouring torrents of rain, to shoot his shafts. Beholding that weapon of the diadem-decked Arjuna baffled in the midst of battle by Karna, the wrathful and mighty Bhima, blazing up with rage, addressed Arjuna of sure aim and said, "People say that thou art a master of the high brahmastra, that mighty means (for achieving the destruction of foes). Do thou then, O Savyasaci, use another weapon of the same kind." Thus addressed by his brother, Savyasaci used a second weapon of the kind. With that, Partha of abundant energy shrouded all the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, with arrows sped from Gandiva that resembled fierce snakes and were like the blazing rays of the sun. Created by that bull of Bharata's race, those arrows of golden wings, in hundreds upon hundreds, endued with the effulgence of the yuga fire or the sun, in a moment shrouded the car of Karna. Thence also issued long darts and battle-axes and discs and cloth-yard shafts in hundreds, all of awful forms, at which hostile warriors all around began to be deprived of life. The head of some hostile warrior, severed from his trunk, fell down on the field of battle. Another, beholding his fallen comrade, fell down dead on the earth, through fear. The (right) arm of a third, large and massive as the trunk of an elephant, cut off (by Partha), fell down with the sword in grasp. The left arm of a fourth, cut off with a razor-headed arrow, fell down with the shield in it. Even thus, Partha, decked with diadem and garlands, wounded and slew all the foremost warriors of Duryodhana's army with his terrible and death-dealing shafts. Vaikartana also, in the midst of that battle, shot thousands of arrows. These, with a loud whizz, fell upon the son of Pandu like torrents of rain poured from the clouds. Then piercing Bhimasena and Janardana and the diadem-decked Arjuna of superhuman feats, each with three arrows. Karna of terrible might uttered a loud awful roar. Struck with Karna's shafts, the diadem-decked Arjuna, beholding Bhima and Janardana, became unable to endure (the feats of his antagonist). Once more, therefore, Partha shot eight and ten arrows. Piercing the beautiful standard of Karna with one of those arrows, he pierced Shalya with four and Karna himself with three. With ten other well-shot shafts he then struck the Kaurava warrior Sabhapati, clad in golden mail. Thereupon that prince, deprived of head and arms and steeds and driver and bow and standard, fell down, wounded and dead, from his foremost of cars, like a Sala tree cut down with an axe. Once more piercing Karna with three, eight, twelve, four, and ten arrows, Partha slew 400 elephants equipped with many weapons, and 8,000 car-warriors, and 1,000 steeds with riders, and 8,000 brave foot-soldiers. And soon Partha made Karna with his driver and car and steeds and standard invisible with straightly coursing shafts. Then the Kauravas, thus slaughtered by Dhananjaya, loudly addressed Adhitratha's son, saying, "Shoot thy arrows and slay the son of Pandu. Already, he has begun to exterminate the Kurus with his shafts!" Thus urged, Karna, with his best endeavours, incessantly shot many arrows. Capable of cutting the very vitals, those blood-drinking shafts, well sped by Karna, slew large numbers of the Pandavas and the Pancalas. Thus those two foremost of all bowmen, those two warriors of great strength that were capable of bearing all foes, those two heroes acquainted with weapons, struck the warriors opposed to them, as also each other, with mighty weapons. Then Yudhishthira, clad in golden mail, his arrows having been extracted and himself made sound with mantras and drugs by foremost of surgeons well-disposed towards him, quickly came to that spot for witnessing (the encounter between Arjuna and Karna). Beholding king Yudhishthira the just arrived there like the resplendent full Moon freed from the jaws of Rahu and risen in the firmament, all creatures became filled with delight. Beholding those two foremost of warriors, those two first of heroes and slayers of foes, viz., Karna and Partha, engaged in fight, the spectators, both celestial and terrestrial, restraining the animals they rode or that were yoked unto their vehicles, stood motionless. As the two heroes, O king, struck each other with many foremost of arrows, O king, the sounds caused by the bows, bow-strings, and palms, of both Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's son, became tremendous and their well-sped arrows also caused a deafening whizz. Then the bow-string of the son of Pandu, stretched with force, broke with a loud noise. During the interval thus offered, the Suta's son pierced Partha with a hundred small arrows, keen and steeped in oil, winged with the feathers of birds, and resembling snakes freed from their sloughs. He then quickly pierced Vasudeva with sixty shafts, and then Phalguna again with eight. Surya's son then pierced Bhima with thousands upon thousands of mighty arrows. Having pierced Krishna and Partha's standard, Karna felled many amongst the Somakas that followed Partha. These, however, in return shrouded Karna with showers of straight shafts like masses of clouds shrouding the sun in the welkin. Accomplished in the use of weapons, the Suta's son, stupefying those advancing warriors with his shafts and baffling all the weapons shot by them, destroyed their cars and steeds and elephants. And the Suta's son, O king, also afflicted with his arrows many foremost of warriors among them. Their bodies pierced with Karna's shafts, they fell down on the ground, deprived of life and making a loud noise as they fell. Indeed, those mighty combatants, afflicted by Karna of terrible strength, perished like a pack of dogs afflicted by an angry lion. And once more many foremost of combatants among the Pancalas and many such (among the Kauravas) fell down after this, slain by Karna and Dhananjaya. Deprived of life by the mighty Karna with well-aimed arrows shot with great force, many fell down, purging the contents of their stomachs. Then thy troops, regarding the victory to be already theirs, clapped furiously and uttered loud leonine roars. Indeed, in that dreadful encounter, all of them regarded the two Krishnas to have been brought by Karna under his power. Then quickly bending his bow-string and baffling all those shafts of Adhiratha's son, Partha, filled with rage in consequence of his limbs having been mangled with Karna's arrows, assailed the Kauravas. Rubbing his bow-string, he clapped his palms and suddenly caused a darkness there with the showers of shafts he shot. The diadem-decked Arjuna pierced Karna and Shalya and all the Kurus with those arrows. The welkin having been darkened by means of that mighty weapon, the very birds were unable to range in their element, a delicious wind then blew, bearing fragrant odours. Laughing the while, Partha forcibly struck Shalya's armour with ten arrows. Piercing Karna next with a dozen shafts, he struck him once more with seven. Deeply struck with those winged arrows of fierce energy shot with great force from Partha's bow, Karna, with mangled limbs and body bathed in blood, looked resplendent like Rudra at the universal destruction, sporting in the midst of crematorium at noon or eve, his body dyed with blood. The son of Adhiratha then pierced Dhananjaya who resembled the chief of the celestials himself (in energy and might) with three arrows, and he caused five other blazing arrows resembling five snakes to penetrate the body of Krishna. Shot with great force, those arrows, decked with gold, pierced through the armour of that foremost of beings and passing out of his body fell upon the earth. Endued with great energy, they entered the earth with great force and having bathed (in the waters of the Bhogavati in the nether region) coursed back towards Karna. Those shafts were five mighty snakes that had adopted the side of Takshaka's son (Aswasena whose mother Partha had slain at Khandava). With ten broad-headed arrows shot with great force, Arjuna cut off each of those five snakes into three fragments whereupon they fell down on the earth. Beholding Krishna's limbs thus mangled with those snakes transformed into arrows sped from Karna's arms, Arjuna, decked with diadem and garlands, blazed up with wrath like a fire engaged in burning a heap of dry grass. He then pierced Karna in all his vital limbs with many blazing and fatal shafts shot from the bow-string stretched to the very ear. (Deeply pierced), Karna trembled in pain. With the greatest difficulty he stood, summoning all his patience. Dhananjaya having been filled with wrath, all the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, the very splendour of the Sun, and Karna's car, O king, all became invisible with the showers shot by him. The welkin seemed as if it were shrouded by a thick forest. Then that slayer of foes, that bull of Kuru's race, that foremost of heroes, viz., Savyasaci, O king, soon slew in that battle 2,000 foremost of Kuru warriors, with their cars and steeds and drivers, forming the protectors of Karna's car-wheels and wings and his van-guard and rear-guard and who constituted the very pick of Duryodhana's car-force, and who, urged by Duryodhana, had been fighting with great energy. Then thy sons and the Kauravas that were still alive fled away, deserting Karna, and abandoning their dying and wounded, and their wailing sons and sires. Beholding himself abandoned by the terrified Kurus and seeing the space around him empty, Karna felt no agitation, O Bharata, but, on the other hand, rushed at Arjuna, with a cheerful heart.'" 90 "Sanjaya said, 'Flying away in consequence of the falling of Arjuna's arrows, the broken divisions of the Kauravas, staying at a distance, continued to gaze at Arjuna's weapon swelling with energy and careering around with the effulgence of lightning. Then Karna, with showers of terrible shafts, baffled that weapon of Arjuna while it was still careering in the welkin and which Arjuna had shot with great vigour in that fierce encounter for the destruction of his foe. Indeed, that weapon (of Partha) which, swelling with energy, had been consuming the Kurus, the Suta's son now crushed with his shafts winged with gold. Bending then his own loud-sounding bow of irrefragable string, Karna shot showers of shafts. The Suta's son destroyed that burning weapon of Arjuna with his own foe-killing weapon of great power which he had obtained from Rama, and which resembled (in efficacy) an Atharvan rite. And he pierced Partha also with numerous keen shafts. The encounter then, O king, that took place between Arjuna and the son of Adhiratha, became a very dreadful one. They continued to strike each other with arrows like two fierce elephants striking each other with their tusks. All the points of the compass then became shrouded with weapons and the very sun became invisible. Indeed, Karna and Partha, with their arrowy downpours, made the welkin one vast expanse of arrows without any space between. All the Kauravas and the Somakas then beheld a wide-spread arrowy net. In that dense darkness caused by arrows, they were unable to see anything else. Those two foremost of men, both accomplished in weapons, as they incessantly aimed and shot innumerable arrows, O king, displayed diverse kinds of beautiful manoeuvres. While they were thus contending with each other in battle, sometimes the Suta's son prevailed over his rival and sometimes the diadem-decked Partha prevailed over his, in prowess and weapons and lightness of hands. Beholding that terrible and awful passage-at-arms between those two heroes each of whom was desirous of availing himself of the other's lapses, all the other warriors on the field of battle became filled with wonder. The beings in the welkin, O king, applauded Karna and Arjuna. Indeed, many of them at a time, filled with joy, cheerfully shouted, sometimes saying, "Excellent, O Karna!" and sometimes saying, "Excellent, O Arjuna!" During the progress of that fierce encounter, while the earth was being pressed deep with the weight of cars and the tread of steeds and elephants, the snake Aswasena, who was hostile to Arjuna, was passing his time in the nether region. Freed from the conflagration at Khandava, O king, he had, from anger, penetrated through the earth (for going to the subterranean region). That brave snake, recollecting the death of his mother and the enmity he on that account harboured against Arjuna, now rose from the lower region. Endued with the power of ascending the skies, he soared up with great speed upon beholding that fight between Karna and Arjuna. Thinking that that was the time for gratifying his animosity towards, as he thought, the wicked-souled Partha, he quickly entered into Karna's quiver, O king, in the form of an arrow. At that time a net of arrows was seen, shedding its bright arrows around. Karna and Partha made the welkin one dense mass of arrows by means of their arrowy downpours. Beholding that wide-spread expanse of arrows, all the Kauravas and the Somakas became filled with fear. In that thick and awful darkness caused by arrows they were unable to see anything else. Then those two tigers among men, those two foremost of all bowmen in the world, those two heroes, fatigued with their exertions in battle, looked at each other. Both of them were then fanned with excellent and waving fans made of young (palm) leaves and sprinkled with fragrant sandal-water by many Apsaras staying in the welkin. And Sakra and Surya, using their hands, gently brushed the faces of those two heroes. When at last Karna found that he could not prevail over Partha and was exceedingly scorched with the shafts of the former, that hero, his limbs very much mangled, set his heart upon that shaft of his which lay singly within a quiver. The Suta's son then fixed on his bow-string that foe-killing, exceedingly keen, snake-mouthed, blazing, and fierce shaft, which had been polished according to rule, and which he had long kept for the sake of Partha's destruction. Stretching his bow-string to his ear, Karna fixed that shaft of fierce energy and blazing splendour, that ever-worshipped weapon which lay within a golden quiver amid sandal dust, and aimed it at Partha. Indeed, he aimed that blazing arrow, born in Airavata's race, for cutting off Phalguna's head in battle. All the points of the compass and the welkin became ablaze and terrible meteors, and thunderbolts fell. When that snake of the form of an arrow was fixed on the bow-string, the Regents of the world, including Sakra, set up loud wails. The Suta's son did not know that the snake Aswasena had entered his arrow by the aid of his Yoga powers. Beholding Vaikartana aim that arrow, the high-souled ruler of the Madras, addressing Karna, said, "This arrow, O Karna, will not succeed in striking off Arjuna's head. Searching carefully, fix another arrow that may succeed in striking off thy enemy's head." Endued with great activity, the Suta's son, with eyes burning in wrath, then said unto the ruler of the Madras, "O Shalya, Karna never aimeth an arrow twice. Persons like us never become crooked warriors." Having said these words, Karna, with great care, let off that shaft which he had worshipped for many long years. Bent upon winning the victory, O king, he quickly said unto his rival, "Thou art slain, O Phalguna!" Sped from Karna's arms, that shaft of awful whizz, resembling fire or the sun in splendour, as it left the bow-string, blazed up in the welkin and seemed to divide it by a line such as is visible on the crown of a woman dividing her tresses. Beholding that shaft blazing in the welkin, the slayer of Kamsa, Madhava, with great speed and the greatest ease, pressed down with his feet that excellent car, causing it to sink about a cubit deep. At this, the steeds, white as the rays of the moon and decked in trappings of gold, bending their knees, laid themselves down on the ground. Indeed, seeing that snake (in the form of an arrow) aimed by Karna, Madhava, that foremost of all persons endued with might, put forth his strength and thus pressed down with his feet that car into the earth, whereat the steeds, (as already said) bending down their knees, laid themselves down upon the earth when the car itself had sank into it. Then loud sounds arose in the welkin in applause of Vasudeva. Many celestial voices were heard, and celestial flowers were showered upon Krishna, and leonine shouts also were uttered. When the car had thus been pressed down into the earth through the exertions of the slayer of Madhu, the excellent ornament of Arjuna's head, celebrated throughout the earth, the welkin, heaven, and the waters, the Suta's son swept off from the crown of his rival, with that arrow, in consequence of the very nature of that snaky weapon and the great care and wrath with which it had been shot. That diadem, endued with the splendour of the sun or the moon or fire or a planet, and adorned with gold and pearls and gems and diamonds, had with great care been made by the puissant Self-born himself for Purandara. Costly as its appearance indicated, it was inspiring terror in the hearts of foes, contributing to the happiness of him that wore it, and shedding a fragrance, that ornament had been given by the chief of the celestials himself with a cheerful heart unto Partha while the latter had proceeded to slaughter the foes of the gods. That diadem was incapable of being crushed by Rudra and the Lord of waters and Kuvera with Pinaka and noose and thunderbolt and the very foremost of shafts. It could not be endured by even the foremost ones among the gods. Vrisha, however, now broke it forcibly with his snake-inspired shaft. Endued with great activity, that wicked-natured snake of fierce form and false vows, falling upon that diadem-decked with gold and gems, swept it away from Arjuna's head. That snake, O king, forcibly tore it away from Partha's head, quickly reducing into fragments that well-made ornament set over with many a gem and blazing with beauty, like the thunderbolt riving a mountain summit decked with lofty and beautiful trees graced with flowers. Crushed by that excellent weapon, possessed of splendour, and blazing with the fire of (the snake's) poison, that beautiful and much-liked diadem of Partha fell down on the earth like the blazing disc of the Sun from the Asta hills. Indeed, that snake forcibly swept away from Arjuna's head that diadem adorned with many gems, like the thunder of Indra felling a beautiful mountain summit adorned with lofty trees bearing budding leaves and flowers. And the earth, welkin, heaven, and the waters, when agitated by a tempest, roar aloud, O Bharata, even such was the roar that arose in all the worlds at that time. Hearing that tremendous noise, people, notwithstanding their efforts to be calm, became extremely agitated and reeled as they stood. Reft of diadem, the dark complexioned and youthful Partha looked beautiful like a blue mountain of lofty summit. Binding then his locks with a white cloth, Arjuna stood perfectly unmoved. With that white gear on his head, he looked like the Udaya hill illumined with the rays of the sun. Thus that she-snake (whom Arjuna had killed at Khandava) of excellent mouth, through her son in the form of an arrow, sped by Surya's son, beholding Arjuna of exceeding energy and might standing with his head at a level with the reins of the steeds, took away his diadem only, that well-made ornament (formerly) owned by Aditi's son and endued with the effulgence of Surya himself. But Arjuna also (as will appear in the sequel) did not return from that battle without causing the snake to succumb to the power of Yama. Sped from Karna's arms, that costly shaft resembling fire or the sun in effulgence, viz., that mighty snake who from before had become the deadly foe of Arjuna, thus crushing the latter's diadem, went away. Having burnt the gold-decked diadem of Arjuna displayed on his head, he desired to come to Arjuna once more with great speed. Asked, however, by Karna (who saw him but knew him not), he said these words, "Thou hadst sped me, O Karna, without having seen me. It was for this that I could not strike off Arjuna's head. Do thou quickly shoot me once again, after seeing me well. I shall then slay thy foe and mine too." Thus addressed in that battle by him, the Suta's son said, "Who are you possessed of such fierce form?" The snake answered, saying, "Know me as one that has been wronged by Partha. My enmity towards him is due to his having slain my mother. If the wielder of the thunderbolt himself were to protect Partha, the latter would still have to go to the domains of the king of the pitris. Do not disregard me. Do my bidding. I will slay thy foe. Shoot me without delay." Hearing those words, Karna said, "Karna, O snake, never desires to have victory in battle today by relying on another's might. Even if I have to slay a hundred Arjunas, I will not, O snake, still shoot the same shaft twice." Once more addressing him in the midst of battle, that best of men, viz., Surya's son, Karna, said, "Aided by the nature of my other snaky weapons, and by resolute effort and wrath, I shall slay Partha. Be thou happy and go elsewhere." Thus addressed, in battle, by Karna, that prince of snakes, unable from rage to bear those words, himself proceeded, O king, for the slaughter of Partha, having assumed the form of an arrow. Of fierce form, the desire he ardently cherished was the destruction of his enemy. Then Krishna, addressing Partha in that encounter, said into him, "Slay that great snake inimical to thee." Thus addressed by the slayer of Madhu, the wielder of Gandiva, that bowman who was always fierce unto foes, enquired of him, saying, "Who is that snake that advanceth of his own accord against me, as if, indeed he advanceth right against the mouth of Garuda?" Krishna replied, "Whilst thou, armed with bow, wert engaged at Khandava in gratifying the god Agni, this snake was then in the sky, his body ensconced within his mother's. Thinking that it was only a single snake that was so staying in the sky, thou killedest the mother. Remembering that act of hostility done by thee, he cometh towards thee today for thy destruction. O resister of foes, behold him coming like a blazing meteor, falling from the firmament!"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Then Jishnu, turning his face in rage, cut off, with six keen shafts, that snake in the welkin as the latter was coursing in a slanting direction. His body thus cut off, he fell down on the earth. After that snake had been cut off by Arjuna, the lord Keshava himself, O king, of massive arms, that foremost of beings, raised up with his arms that car from the earth. At that time, Karna, glancing obliquely at Dhananjaya, pierced that foremost of persons, viz., Krishna, with ten shafts whetted on stone and equipped with peacock feathers. Then Dhananjaya, piercing Karna with a dozen well-shot and keen arrows equipped with heads like the boar's ear, sped a cloth-yard shaft endued with the energy of a snake of virulent poison and shot from his bow-string stretched to his ear. That foremost of shafts, well shot by Arjuna, penetrated through Karna's armour, and as if suspending his life breaths, drank his blood and entered the earth, its wings also having been drenched with gore. Endued with great activity, Vrisha, enraged at the stroke of the shaft, like a snake beaten with stick, shot many mighty shafts, like snakes of virulent poison vomiting venom. And he pierced Janardana with a dozen shafts and Arjuna with nine and ninety. And once more piercing the son of Pandu with a terrible shaft, Karna laughed and uttered a loud roar. The son of Pandu, however, could not endure his enemy's joy. Acquainted with all the vital parts of the human body, Partha, possessed of prowess like that of Indra, pierced those vital limbs with hundreds of arrows even as Indra had struck Vala with great energy. Then Arjuna sped ninety arrows, each resembling the rod of Death at Karna. Deeply pierced with those shafts, Karna trembled like a mountain riven with thunder. The head-gear of Karna, adorned with costly gems and precious diamonds and pure gold, as also his earrings, cut off by Dhananjaya with his winged arrows, fell down on the earth. The costly and bright armour also of the Suta's son that had been forged with great care by many foremost of artists working for a long time, the son of Pandu cut off within a moment in many fragments. After thus divesting him of his armour, Partha then, in rage, pierced Karna with four whetted shafts of great energy. Struck forcibly by his foe, Karna suffered great pain like a diseased person afflicted by bile, phlegm, wind, and fever. Once more Arjuna, with great speed, mangled Karna, piercing his very vitals, with numerous excellent shafts, of great keenness, and sped from his circling bow with much force and speed and care. Deeply struck by Partha with those diverse arrows of keen points and fierce energy, Karna (covered with blood) looked resplendent like a mountain of red chalk with streams of red water running down its breast. Once more Arjuna pierced Karna in the centre of the chest with many straight-coursing and strong shafts made entirely of iron and equipped with wings of gold and each resembling the fiery rod of the Destroyer, like the son of Agni piercing the Krauncha mountains. Then the Suta's son, casting aside his bow that resembled the very bow of Sakra, as also his quiver, felt great pain, and stood inactive, stupefied, and reeling, his grasp loosened and himself in great anguish. The virtuous Arjuna, observant of the duty of manliness, wished not to slay his enemy while fallen into such distress. The younger brother of Indra then, with great excitement, addressed him, saying, "Why, O son of Pandu, dost thou become so forgetful? They that are truly wise never spare their foes, however weak, even for a moment. He that is learned earneth both merit and fame by slaying foes fallen into distress. Lose no time in precipitately crushing Karna who is always inimical to thee and who is the first of heroes. The Suta's son, when able, will once more advance against thee as before. Slay him, therefore, like Indra slaying the Asura Namuci." Saying, "So be it, O Krishna!" and worshipping Janardana, Arjuna, that foremost of all persons in Kuru's race once more quickly pierced Karna with many excellent arrows like the ruler of heaven, piercing the Asura, Samvara. The diadem-decked Partha, O Bharata, covered Karna and his car and steeds with many calf-toothed arrows, and putting forth all his vigour he shrouded all the points of the compass with shafts equipped with wings of gold. Pierced with those arrows equipped with heads like the calf's tooth, Adhiratha's son of broad chest looked resplendent like an Asoka or Palasa or Salmali decked with its flowery load or a mountain overgrown with a forest of sandal trees. Indeed, with those numerous arrows sticking to his body, Karna, O monarch, in that battle, looked resplendent like the prince of mountains with its top and glens overgrown with trees or decked with flowering Karnikaras. Karna also shooting repeated showers of arrows, looked, with those arrows constituting his rays, like the sun coursing towards the Asta hills, with disc bright with crimson rays. Shafts, however, of keen points, sped from Arjuna's arms, encountering in the welkin the blazing arrows, resembling mighty snakes, sped from the arms of Adhiratha's son, destroyed them all. Recovering his coolness, and shooting many shafts that resembled angry snakes, Karna then pierced Partha with ten shafts and Krishna with half a dozen, each of which looked like an angry snake. Then Dhananjaya desired to shoot a mighty and terrible arrow, made wholly of iron, resembling the poison of snake or fire in energy, and whose whizz resembling the peal of Indra's thunder, and which was inspired with the force of a high (celestial) weapon. At that time, when the hour of Karna's death had come, Kala, approaching invisibly, and alluding to the Brahmana's curse, and desirous of informing Karna that his death was near, told him, "The Earth is devouring thy wheel!" Indeed, O foremost of men, when the hour of Karna's death came, the high brahmastra that the illustrious Bhargava had imparted unto him, escaped from his memory. And the earth also began to devour the left wheel of his car. Then in consequence of the curse of that foremost of Brahmanas, Karna's car began to reel, having sunk deep into the earth and having been transfixed at that spot like a sacred tree with its load of flowers standing upon an elevated platform. When his car began to reel from the curse of the Brahmana, and when the high weapon he had obtained from Rama no longer shone in him through inward light, and when his terrible snake-mouthed shaft also had been cut off by Partha, Karna became filled with melancholy. Unable to endure all those calamities, he waved his arms and began to rail at righteousness saying, "They that are conversant with righteousness always say that righteousness protects those that are righteous. As regards ourselves, we always endeavour, to the best of our ability and knowledge to practise righteousness. That righteousness, however, is destroying us now instead of protecting us that are devoted to it. I, therefore, think that righteousness does not always protect its worshippers." While saying these words, he became exceedingly agitated by the strokes of Arjuna's arrows. His steeds and his driver also were displaced from their usual position. His very vitals having been struck, he became indifferent as to what he did, and repeatedly railed at righteousness in that battle. He then pierced Krishna in the arm with three terrible arrows, and Partha, too, with seven. Then Arjuna sped seven and ten terrible arrows, perfectly straight and of fierce impetuosity, resembling fire in splendour and like unto Indra's thunder in force. Endued with awful impetuosity, those arrows pierced Karna and passing out of his body fell upon the surface of the earth. Trembling at the shock, Karna then displayed his activity to the utmost of his power. Steadying himself by a powerful effort he invoked the brahmastra. Beholding the brahmastra, Arjuna invoked the Aindra weapon with proper mantras. Inspiring Gandiva, its string, and his shafts also, with mantras, that scorcher of foes poured showers like Purandara pouring rain in torrents. Those arrows endued with great energy and power, issuing out of Partha's car, were seen to be displayed in the vicinity of Karna's vehicle. The mighty car-warrior Karna baffled all those shafts displayed in his front. Seeing that weapon thus destroyed, the Vrishni hero, addressing Arjuna, said, "Shoot high weapons, O Partha! The son of Radha baffles thy shafts." With proper mantras, Arjuna then fixed the brahmastra on his string, and shrouding all the points of the compass with arrows, Partha struck Karna (with many) arrows. Then Karna, with a number of whetted shafts endued with great energy, cut off the string of Arjuna's bow. Similarly he cut off the second string, and then the third, and then the fourth, and then the fifth. The sixth also was cut off by Vrisha, and then the seventh, then the eighth, then the ninth, then the tenth, and then at last the eleventh. Capable of shooting hundreds upon hundreds of arrows, Karna knew not that Partha had a hundred strings to his bow. Tying another string to his bow and shooting many arrows, the son of Pandu covered Karna with shafts that resembled snakes of blazing mouths. So quickly did Arjuna replace each broken string that Karna could not mark when it was broken and when replaced. The feat seemed to him to be exceedingly wonderful. The son of Radha baffled with his own weapons those of Savyasaci. Displaying also his own prowess, he seemed to get the better of Dhananjaya at that time. Then Krishna, beholding Arjuna afflicted with the weapons of Karna, said these words unto Partha: "Approaching Karna, strike him with superior weapons." Then Dhananjaya, filled with rage, inspiring with mantras another celestial weapon that looked like fire and that resembled the poison of the snake and that was as hard as the essence of adamant, and uniting the Raudra weapon with it, became desirous of shooting it at his foe. At that time, O king, the earth swallowed up one of wheels of Karna's car. Quickly alighting then from his vehicle, he seized his sunken wheel with his two arms and endeavoured to lift it up with a great effort. Drawn up with force by Karna, the earth, which had swallowed up his wheel, rose up to a height of four fingers' breadth, with her seven islands and her hills and waters and forests. Seeing his wheel swallowed, the son of Radha shed tears from wrath, and beholding Arjuna, filled with rage he said these words, "O Partha, O Partha, wait for a moment, that is, till I lift this sunken wheel. Beholding, O Partha, the left wheel of my car swallowed through accident by the earth, abandon (instead of cherishing) this purpose (of striking and slaying me) that is capable of being harboured by only a coward. Brave warriors that are observant of the practices of the righteous, never shoot their weapons at persons with dishevelled hair, or at those that have turned their faces from battle, or at a Brahmana, or at him who joins his palms, or at him who yields himself up or beggeth for quarter or at one who has put up his weapon, or at one whose arrows are exhausted, or at one whose armour is displaced, or at one whose weapon has fallen off or been broken! Thou art the bravest of men in the world. Thou art also of righteous behaviour, O son of Pandu! Thou art well-acquainted with the rules of battle. For these reasons, excuse me for a moment, that is, till I extricate my wheel, O Dhananjaya, from the earth. Thyself staying on thy car and myself standing weak and languid on the earth, it behoveth thee not to slay me now. Neither Vasudeva, nor thou, O son of Pandu, inspirest me with the slightest fear. Thou art born in the Kshatriya order. Thou art the perpetuator of a high race. Recollecting the teachings of righteousness, excuse me for a moment, O son of Pandu!"'" 91 "Sanjaya said, 'Then Vasudeva, stationed on the car, addressed Karna, saying, "By good luck it is, O son of Radha, that thou rememberest virtue! It is generally seen that they that are mean, when they sink into distress, rail at Providence but never at their own misdeeds. Thyself and Suyodhana and Duhshasana and Shakuni, the son of Subala, had caused Draupadi, clad in a single piece of raiment, to be brought into the midst of the assembly. On that occasion, O Karna, this virtue of thine did not manifest itself. When at the assembly Shakuni, an adept in dice, vanquished Kunti's son Yudhishthira who was unacquainted with it, whither had this virtue of thine gone? When the Kuru king (Duryodhana), acting under thy counsels, treated Bhimasena in that way with the aid of snakes and poisoned food, whither had this virtue of thine then gone? When the period of exile into the woods was over as also the thirteenth year, thou didst not make over to the Pandavas their kingdom. Whither had this virtue of thine then gone? Thou didst set fire to the house of lac at Varanavata for burning to death the sleeping Pandavas. Whither then, O son of Radha, had this virtue of thine gone? Thou laughedest at Krishna while she stood in the midst of the assembly, scantily dressed because in her season and obedient to Duhshasana's will, whither, then, O Karna, had this virtue of thine gone? When from the apartment reserved for the females innocent Krishna was dragged, thou didst not interfere. Whither, O son of Radha, had this virtue of thine gone? Thyself addressing the princess Draupadi, that lady whose tread is as dignified as that of the elephant, in these words, viz., 'The Pandavas, O Krishna, are lost. They have sunk into eternal hell. Do thou choose another husband!' thou lookedest on the scene with delight. Whither then, O Karna, had this virtue of thine gone? Covetous of kingdom and relying on the ruler of the Gandharas, thou summonedest the Pandavas (to a match of dice). Whither then had this virtue of thine gone? When many mighty car-warriors, encompassing the boy Abhimanyu in battle, slew him, whither had this virtue of thine then gone? If this virtue that thou now invokest was nowhere on those occasions, what is the use then of parching thy palate now, by uttering that word? Thou art now for the practice of virtue, O Suta, but thou shalt not escape with life. Like Nala who was defeated by Pushkara with the aid of dice but who regained his kingdom by prowess, the Pandavas, who are free from cupidity, will recover their kingdom by the prowess of their arms, aided with all their friends. Having slain in battle their powerful foes, they, with the Somakas, will recover their kingdom. The Dhartarashtras will meet with destruction at the hands of those lions among men (viz., the sons of Pandu), that are always protected by virtue!"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed, O Bharata, by Vasudeva, Karna hung down his head in shame and gave no answer. With lips quivering in rage, he raised his bow, O Bharata, and, being endued with great energy and prowess, he continued to fight with Partha. Then Vasudeva, addressing Phalguna, that bull among men, said, "O thou of great might, piercing Karna with a celestial weapon, throw him down." Thus addressed by the holy one, Arjuna became filled with rage. Indeed, remembering the incidents alluded to by Krishna, Dhananjaya blazed up with fury. Then, O king, blazing flames of fire seemed to emanate from all the pores of the angry Partha's body. The sight seemed to be exceedingly wonderful. Beholding it, Karna, invoking the brahmastra, showered his shafts upon Dhananjaya, and once more made an effort to extricate his car. Partha also, by the aid of the brahmastra, poured arrowy downpours upon Karna. Baffling with his own weapon the weapon of his foe, the son of Pandu continued to strike him. The son of Kunti then, aiming at Karna sped another favourite weapon of his that was inspired with the energy of Agni. Sped by Arjuna, that weapon blazed up with its own energy. Karna, however, quenched that conflagration with the Varuna weapon. The Suta's son also, by the clouds he created, caused all the points of the compass to be shrouded with a darkness such as may be seen on a rainy day. The son of Pandu, endued with great energy, fearlessly dispelled those clouds by means of the Vayavya weapon in the very sight of Karna. The Suta's son then, for slaying the son of Pandu, took up a terrible arrow blazing like fire. When that adored shaft was fixed on the bow-string, the earth, O king, trembled with her mountains and waters and forests. Violent winds began to blow, bearing hard pebbles. All the points of the compass became enveloped with dust. Wails of grief, O Bharata, arose among the gods in the welkin. Beholding that shaft aimed by the Suta's son, O sire, the Pandavas, with cheerless hearts, gave themselves up to great sorrow. That shaft of keen point and endued with the effulgence of Sakra's thunder, sped from Karna's arms, fell upon Dhananjaya's chest and penetrated it like a mighty snake penetrating an ant-hill. That grinder of foes, viz., the high-souled Vibhatsu, thus deeply pierced in that encounter, began to reel. His grasp became loosened, at which his bow Gandiva dropped from his hand. He trembled like the prince of mountains in an earthquake. Availing himself of that opportunity, the mighty car-warrior Vrisha, desirous of extricating his car-wheel that had been swallowed up by the earth, jumped down from his vehicle. Seizing the wheel with his two arms he endeavoured to drag it up, but though possessed of great strength, he failed in his efforts, as destiny would have it. Meanwhile the diadem-decked and high-souled Arjuna, recovering his senses, took up a shaft, fatal as the rod of Death, and called anjalika. Then Vasudeva, addressing Partha, said, "Cut off with thy arrow the head of this enemy of thine, viz., Vrisha, before he succeeds in getting upon his car." Applauding those words of the lord Vasudeva, and while the wheel of his enemy was still sunk, the mighty car-warrior Arjuna took up a razor-headed arrow of blazing effulgence and struck the standard (of Karna) bearing the elephant's rope and bright as the spotless sun. That standard bearing the device of the costly elephant's rope, was adorned with gold and pearls and gems and diamonds, and forged with care by foremost of artists excelling in knowledge, and possessed of great beauty, and variegated with pure gold. That standard always used to fill thy troops with high courage and the enemy with fear. Its form commanded applause. Celebrated over the whole world, it resembled the sun in splendour. Indeed, its effulgence was like that of fire or the sun or the moon. The diadem-decked Arjuna, with that razor-headed shaft, exceedingly sharp, equipped with wings of gold, possessed of the splendour of fire when fed with libations of clarified butter, and blazing with beauty, cut off that standard of Adhiratha's son, that great car-warrior. With that standard, as it fell, the fame, pride, hope of victory, and everything dear, as also the hearts of the Kurus, fell, and loud wails of "Oh!" and "Alas!" arose (from the Kuru army). Beholding that standard cut off and thrown down by that hero of Kuru's race possessed of great lightness of hand, thy troops, O Bharata, were no longer hopeful of Karna's victory. Hastening then for Karna's destruction, Partha took out from his quiver an excellent Anjalika weapon that resembled the thunder of Indra or the rod of fire and that was possessed of the effulgence of the thousand-rayed Sun. Capable of penetrating the very vitals, besmeared with blood and flesh, resembling fire or the sun, made of costly materials, destructive of men, steeds, and elephants, of straight course and fierce impetuosity, it measured three cubits and six feet. Endued with the force of the thousand-eyed Indra's thunder, irresistible as Rakshasas in the night, resembling Pinaka or Narayana's discus, it was exceedingly terrible and destructive of all living creatures. Partha cheerfully took up that great weapon, in the shape of an arrow, which could not be resisted by the very gods, that high-souled being which was always adored by the son of Pandu, and which was capable of vanquishing the very gods and the Asuras. Beholding that shaft grasped by Partha in that battle, the entire universe shook with its mobile and immobile creatures. Indeed, seeing that weapon raised (for being sped) in that dreadful battle, the Rishis loudly cried out, "Peace be to the universe!" The wielder of Gandiva then fixed on his bow that unrivalled arrow, uniting it with a high and mighty weapon. Drawing his bow Gandiva, he quickly said, "Let this shaft of mine be like a mighty weapon capable of quickly destroying the body and heart of my enemy, if I have ever practised ascetic austerities, gratified my superiors, and listened to the counsels of well-wishers. Let this shaft, worshipped by me and possessed of great sharpness, slay my enemy Karna by that Truth." Having said these words Dhananjaya let off that terrible shaft for the destruction of Karna, that arrow fierce and efficacious as a rite prescribed in the Atharvan of Angiras, blazing with effulgence, and incapable of being endured by Death himself in battle. And the diadem-decked Partha, desirous of slaying Karna, with great cheerfulness, said, "Let this shaft conduce to my victory. Shot by me, let this arrow possessed of the splendour of fire or the sun take Karna to the presence of Yama." Saying these words, Arjuna, decked with diadem and garlands, cherishing feelings of hostility towards Karna and desirous of slaying him, cheerfully struck his foe with that foremost of shafts which was possessed of the splendour of the sun or the moon and capable of bestowing victory. Thus sped by that mighty warrior, that shaft endued with the energy of the sun caused all the points of the compass to blaze up with light. With that weapon Arjuna struck off his enemy's head like Indra striking off the head of Vritra with his thunder. Indeed, O king, with that excellent Anjalika weapon inspired with mantras into a mighty weapon, the son of Indra cut off the head of Vaikartana in the afternoon. Thus cut off with that Anjalika, the trunk of Karna fell down on the earth. The head also of that commander of the (Kaurava) army, endued with splendour equal to that of the risen sun and resembling the meridian sun of autumn, fell down on the earth like the sun of bloody disc dropped down from the Asta hills. Indeed, that head abandoned with great unwillingness the body, exceedingly beautiful and always nursed in luxury, of Karna of noble deeds, like an owner abandoning with great unwillingness his commodious mansion filled with great wealth. Cut off with Arjuna's arrow, and deprived of life, the tall trunk of Karna endued with great splendour, with blood issuing from every wound, fell down like the thunder-riven summit of a mountain of red chalk with crimson streams running down its sides after a shower. Then from that body of the fallen Karna a light passing through the welkin penetrated the sun. This wonderful sight, O king, was beheld by the human warriors after the fall of Karna. Then the Pandavas, beholding Karna slain by Phalguna, loudly blew their conchs. Similarly, Krishna and Dhananjaya also, filled with delight, and losing no time, blew their conchs. The Somakas beholding Karna slain and lying on the field, were filled with joy and uttered loud shouts with the other troops (of the Pandava army). In great delight they blew their trumpets and waved their arms and garments. All the warriors, O king, approaching Partha, began to applaud him joyfully. Others, possessed of might, danced, embracing each other, and uttering loud shouts, said, "By good luck, Karna hath been stretched on the earth and mangled with arrows." Indeed, the severed head of Karna looked beautiful like a mountain summit loosened by a tempest, or a quenched fire after the sacrifice is over, or the image of the sun after it has reached the Asta hills. The Karna-sun, with arrows for its rays, after having scorched the hostile army, was at last caused to be set by the mighty Arjuna-time. As the Sun, while proceeding towards the Asta hills, retires taking away with him all his rays, even so that shaft (of Arjuna) passed out, taking with it Karna's life breaths. The death hour of the Suta's son, O sire, was the afternoon of that day. Cut off with the Anjalika weapon in that battle, the head of Karna fell down along with his body. Indeed, that arrow of Arjuna, in the very sight of the Kaurava troops, quickly took away the head and the body of Karna. Beholding the heroic Karna thrown down stretched on the earth, pierced with arrows and bathed in blood, the king of the Madras, went away on that car deprived of its standard. After the fall of Karna, the Kauravas, deeply pierced with shafts in that battle, and afflicted with fear, fled away from the field, frequently casting their eyes on that lofty standard of Arjuna that blazed with splendour. The beautiful head, graced with a face that resembled a lotus of a 1,000 petals, of Karna whose feats were like those of the thousand-eyed Indra, fell down on the earth like the thousand-rayed sun as he looks at the close of day.'" 92 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the troops crushed with arrows in that encounter between Karna and Arjuna, Shalya proceeded, filled with wrath, on that car divested of equipment. Beholding his army deprived of the Suta's son and its cars and steeds and elephants destroyed, Duryodhana, with eyes bathed in tears, repeatedly sighed the very picture of woe. Desirous of beholding the heroic Karna, pierced with arrows and bathed in blood, and stretched on the earth like the sun dropped from the skies at will, the warriors came there and stood surrounding the fallen hero. Amongst those belonging to the enemy and thy army that thus stood there, some showed signs of joy, some of fear, some of sorrow, some of wonder, and some gave themselves up to great grief, according to their respective natures. Others amongst the Kauravas, hearing that Karna of mighty energy had been slain by Dhananjaya, his armour, ornaments, robes, and weapons having all been displaced, fled in fear like a herd of kine afflicted with exceeding fear at losing its bull. Bhima then, uttering loud roars and causing the welkin to tremble with those awful and tremendous shouts, began to slap his armpits, jump, and dance, frightening the Dhartarashtras by those movements. The Somakas and the Srinjayas also loudly blew their conchs. All the Kshatriyas embraced one another in joy, upon beholding the Suta's son slain at that juncture. Having fought a dreadful battle, Karna was slain by Arjuna like an elephant by a lion. That bull among men, Arjuna, thus accomplished his vow. Indeed even thus, Partha reached the end of his hostility (towards Karna). The ruler of the Madras, with stupefied heart, quickly proceeding, O king, to the side of Duryodhana, on that car divested of standard said in sorrow these words, "The elephants, the steeds, and the foremost of car-warriors of thy army have been slain. In consequence of those mighty warriors, and steeds, and elephants huge as hills, having been slain after coming into contact with one another, thy host looks like the domains of Yama. Never before, O Bharata, has a battle been fought like that between Karna and Arjuna today. Karna had powerfully assailed the two Krishnas today and all others who are thy foes. Destiny, however, has certainly flowed, controlled by Partha. It is for this that Destiny is protecting the Pandavas and weakening us. Many are the heroes who, resolved to accomplish thy objects have been forcibly slain by the enemy. Brave kings, who in energy, courage, and might, were equal to Kuvera or Yama or Vasava or the Lord of the waters, who were possessed of every merit, who were almost unslayable, and who were desirous of achieving thy object, have in battle been slain by the Pandavas. Do not, O Bharata, grieve for this. This is Destiny. Comfort thyself. Success cannot be always attained." Hearing these words of the ruler of the Madras and reflecting on his own evil doings, Duryodhana, with a cheerless heart, became almost deprived of his senses and sighed repeatedly the very picture of woe.'" 93 "Dhritarashtra said, 'What was the aspect of the Kuru and the Srinjaya host on that awful day while it was crushed with arrows and scorched (with weapons) in that encounter between Karna and Arjuna and while it was flying away from the field?' "Sanjaya said, 'Hear, O king, with attention how that awful and great carnage of human beings and elephants and steeds occurred in battle. When, after Karna's fall Partha uttered leonine shouts, a great fright entered the hearts of thy sons. Upon the fall of Karna no warrior of thy army set his heart on rallying the troops or putting forth his prowess. Their refuge having been destroyed by Arjuna, they were then like raftless merchants, whose vessels have wrecked on the fathomless ocean, desirous of crossing the uncrossable main. After the slaughter of the Suta's son, O king, the Kauravas, terrified and mangled with shafts, masterless and desirous of protection, became like a herd of elephants afflicted by lions. Vanquished by Savyasaci on that afternoon, they fled away like bulls with broken horns or snakes with broken fangs. Their foremost of heroes slain, their troops thrown into confusion, themselves mangled with keen arrows, thy sons, after the fall of Karna, O king, fled away in fear. Divested of weapons and armour, no longer able to ascertain which point of the compass was which, and deprived of their senses, they crushed one another in course of their flight and looked at one another, afflicted with fear. "It is me that Vibhatsu is pursuing with speed!" "It is me that Vrikodara is pursuing with speed!"--thought every one among the Kauravas who became pale with fear and fell down as they fled. Some on horses, some on cars, some on elephants, and some on foot, mighty car-warriors, endued with great speed, fled away in fear. Cars were broken by elephants, horsemen were crushed by great car-warriors, and bands of foot-soldiers were trodden down by bodies of horsemen, as these fled in fear. After the fall of the Suta's son, thy warriors became like people without protectors in a forest teeming with beasts of prey and robbers. They were then like elephants without riders and men without arms. Afflicted with fear, they looked upon the world as if it were full of Partha. Beholding them fly away afflicted with the fear of Bhimasena, indeed, and seeing his troops thus leave the field in thousands, Duryodhana, uttering cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" addressed his driver, saying, "Partha will never be able to transgress me standing bow in hand. Urge my steeds slowly behind all the troops. Without doubt, if I fight standing in the rear of the army, the son of Kunti will never be able to transgress me even as the vast deep is unable to transgress its continents. Slaying Arjuna and Govinda and the proud Vrikodara and the rest of my foes, I will free myself from the debt I owe to Karna." Hearing these words of the Kuru king that were so worthy of a hero and honourable man, the charioteer slowly urged his steeds adorned with trappings of gold. Then 25,000 warriors on foot, belonging to thy army, without cars and cavalry and elephants among them, prepared for battle. Bhimasena, filled with wrath, and Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishata, encompassed them with four kinds of forces and began to strike them with their shafts. In return, those warriors fought with Bhima and Prishata's son. Some amongst them challenged the two heroes by name. Then Bhimasena became filled with rage. Alighting from his car, mace in hand, he fought with those warriors arrived for battle. Observant of the rules of fair fight, Vrikodara, the son of Kunti, came down from his car, and relying upon the might of his arms, began to fight on foot with those foes of his that were on foot. Taking up his massive mace adorned with gold, he began to slaughter them all, like the Destroyer armed with his bludgeon. The Kaurava warriors on foot, filled with rage and becoming reckless of their lives, rushed against Bhima in that battle like insects upon a blazing fire. Those infuriated combatants, difficult of being defeated in battle, approaching Bhimasena, perished in a trice like living creatures upon seeing the Destroyer. The mighty Bhima, armed with a mace, careered like a hawk and destroyed all those 25,000 combatants. Having slain that division of heroic warriors, Bhima, of prowess incapable of being baffled and of great might, once more stood, with Dhrishtadyumna before him. Possessed of great energy, Dhananjaya proceeded against the (remnant of the) car-force (of the Kauravas). The two sons of Madri, and Satyaki, filled with joy, rushed with speed against Shakuni and slaughtered the troops of Subala's son. Having slain with keen shafts his cavalry and elephants in that encounter, they rushed impetuously against Shakuni himself, upon which a great battle took place. Meanwhile Dhananjaya, O lord, proceeding against thy car-force, twanged his bow Gandiva celebrated over the three worlds. Beholding that car having white steeds yoked unto it and owning Krishna for its driver, and seeing that Arjuna was the warrior standing on it, thy troops fled away in fear. 25,000 soldiers on foot, deprived of cars and mangled with shafts, had perished (at the hands of Bhima and Dhrishtadyumna). Having slain them, that tiger among men, that great car-warrior among the Pancalas, viz., the high-souled Dhrishtadyumna the son of the Pancala king, soon showed himself, with Bhimasena before him. That slayer of foes and mighty bowman appeared exceedingly handsome. Beholding Dhrishtadyumna's car which had steeds white as pigeons yoked unto it and whose lofty standard was made of the trunk of a Kovidara, the Kauravas fled away in great fear. The twins (Nakula and Sahadeva) of great fame, and Satyaki, having pursued with great speed the king of the Gandharas who was possessed of lightness of hands in the use of weapons, re-appeared (amid the Pandava ranks). Chekitana and Shikhandi and the (five) sons of Draupadi, O sire, having slaughtered thy vast army, blew their conchs. All those heroes, although they saw thy troops flying away with faces turned from the field, still pursued them, like bulls pursuing angry bulls after vanquishing them. Pandu's son Savyasaci of great might, O king, beholding a remnant of thy army still standing for battle, became filled with wrath. Possessed of great energy, Dhananjaya, rushed against that car-force, drawing his bow Gandiva celebrated over the three worlds. Suddenly he shrouded them with showers of arrows. The dust that was raised darkened the scene and nothing could any longer be distinguished. When the earth was thus shrouded with dust and when darkness covered everything, thy troops, O king, fled on all sides from fear. When the Kuru army was thus broken, the Kuru king, O monarch, viz., thy son, rushed against all his foes advancing against him. Then Duryodhana challenged all the Pandavas to battle, O chief of Bharata's race, like the Asura Vali in days of yore challenging the gods. At this, all the Pandava heroes, uniting together, rushed against the advancing Duryodhana, shooting and hurling at him diverse weapons and upbraiding him repeatedly. Duryodhana, however, filled with rage, fearlessly slaughtered those enemies of his in hundreds and thousands, with keen shafts. The prowess that we then beheld of thy son was exceedingly wonderful, for alone and unsupported, he fought with all the Pandavas united together. Duryodhana then beheld his own troops who, mangled with arrows, had set their hearts on flight, gone not far from the field. Rallying them then, O monarch, thy son who was resolved to maintain his honour, gladdening those warriors of his, said these words unto them: "I do not see that spot in the earth or on the mountains, whither if ye fly, the Pandavas will not slay you! What use then in flying away? Small is the force that the Pandavas now have. The two Krishnas also are exceedingly mangled. If all of us stay for battle, victory will certainly be ours. If we fly in disunion, the sinful Pandavas, pursuing us, will certainly slay all of us. For this, it is better that we should die in battle. Death in battle is fraught with happiness. Fight, observant of the Kshatriya's duty. He that is dead knows no misery. On the other hand, such a one enjoys eternal bliss hereafter. Listen, ye Kshatriyas, ay, all of you, that are assembled here! When the destroyer Yama spareth neither the hero nor the coward, who is there so foolish of understanding, although observant of a Kshatriya's vow like us, that would not fight. Would ye place yourselves under the power of the angry foe Bhimasena? It behoveth you not to abandon the duty observed by your sires and grandsires. There is no greater sin for a Kshatriya than flight from battle. There is no more blessed path for heaven, ye Kauravas, than the duty of battle. Slain in battle, ye warriors, enjoy heaven without delay."'" "Sanjaya continued, 'While even these words were being uttered by thy son, the (Kaurava) warriors, exceedingly mangled, fled away on all sides, regardless of that speech.'" 94 "Sanjaya said, 'The ruler of the Madras then, beholding thy son employed in rallying the troops, with fear depicted on his countenance and with heart stupefied with grief, said these words unto Duryodhana. "'Shalya said, "Behold this awful field of battle, O hero, covered with heaps of slain men and steeds and elephants. Some tracts are covered with fallen elephants huge as mountains, exceedingly mangled, their vital limbs pierced with shafts, lying helplessly, deprived of life, their armour displaced and the weapons, the shields and the swords with which they were equipped lying scattered about. These fallen animals resemble huge mountains riven with thunder, with their rocks and lofty trees and herbs loosened from them and lying all around. The bells and iron hooks and lances and standards with which those huge creatures had been equipped are lying on the ground. Adorned with housings of gold, their bodies are now bathed in blood. Some tracts, again, are covered with fallen steeds, mangled with shafts, breathing hard in pain and vomitting blood. Some of them are sending forth soft wails of pain, some are biting the earth with rolling eyes and some are uttering piteous neighs. Portions of the field are covered with horsemen and elephant-warriors fallen off from their animals, and with bands of car-warriors forcibly thrown down from their cars. Some of them are already dead and some are at the point of death. Covered also with the corpses of men and steeds and elephants as also with crushed cars and other huge elephants with their trunks and limbs cut off, the earth has become awful to look at like the great Vaitarani (skirting the domains of Yama). Indeed, the earth looketh even such, being strewn with other elephants, stretched on the ground with trembling bodies and broken tusks, vomiting blood, uttering soft cries in pain, deprived of the warriors on their backs, divested of the armour that covered their limbs, and reft of the foot-soldiers that protected their flank and rear, and with their quivers and banners and standards displaced, their bodies adorned with housings of gold struck deep with the weapons of the foe. The earth looked like the cloud-covered welkin in consequence of being strewn with the fallen bodies of elephant-warriors and horse-men and car-warriors, all of great fame, and of foot-soldiers slain by foes fighting face to face, and divested of armour and ornaments and attire and weapons. Covered with thousands of fallen combatants mangled with arrows, fully exposed to view, and deprived of consciousness, with some amongst them whose breaths were returning slowly, the earth seemed as if covered with many extinguished fires. With those foremost of heroes among both the Kurus and the Srinjayas, pierced with arrows and deprived of life by Partha and Karna, the earth seemed as if strewn with blazing planets fallen from the firmament, or like the nocturnal firmament itself bespangled with blazing planets of serene light. The shafts sped from the arms of Karna and Arjuna, piercing through the bodies of elephants and steeds and men and quickly stilling their lives, entered the earth like mighty snakes entering their holes with heads bent downwards. The earth has become impassable with heaps of slain men and steeds and elephants, and with cars broken with the shafts of Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's son and with the numberless shafts themselves shot by them. Strewn with well-equipped cars crushed by means of mighty shafts along with the warriors and the weapons and the standards upon them, cars, that is, with their traces broken, their joints separated, their axles and yokes and Trivenus reduced to fragments, their wheels loosened, their Upaskaras destroyed, their Anukarsanas cut in pieces, the fastenings of their quivers cut off, and their niches (for the accommodation of drivers) broken, strewn with those vehicles adorned with gems and gold, the earth looks like the firmament overspread with autumnal clouds. In consequence of well-equipped royal cars deprived of riders and dragged by fleet steeds, as also of men and elephants and cars and horses that fled very quickly, the army has been broken in diverse ways. Spiked maces with golden bells, battle-axes, sharp lances, heavy clubs, mallets, bright unsheathed swords, and maces covered with cloth of gold, have fallen on the field. Bows decked with ornaments of gold, and shafts equipped with beautiful wings of pure gold, and bright unsheathed rapiers of excellent temper, and lances, and scimitars bright as gold, and umbrellas, and fans, and conchs, and arms decked with excellent flowers and gold, and caparisons of elephants, and standards, and car fences and diadems, and necklaces, and brilliant crowns, and yak-tails lying about, O king, and garlands luminous with corals and pearls, and chaplets for the head, and bracelets for both the wrist and the upper arms, and collars for the neck with strings of gold, and diverse kinds of costly diamonds and gems and pearls, and bodies brought up in a great luxury, and heads beautiful as the moon, are lying scattered about. Abandoning their bodies and enjoyments and robes and diverse kinds of agreeable pleasures, and acquiring great merit for the devotion they showed to the virtuous of their order, they have speedily gone in a blaze of flame to regions of bliss. Turn back, O Duryodhana! Let the troops retire! O king, O giver of honours, proceed towards thy camp! There, the Sun is hanging low in the welkin, O lord! Remember, O ruler of men, that thou art the cause of all this!" "'Having said these words unto Duryodhana, Shalya, with heart filled with grief, stopped. Duryodhana, however, at that time, deeply afflicted and deprived of his senses, and with eyes bathed in tears, wept for the Suta's son, saying, "Karna! Oh Karna!" Then all the kings headed by Drona's son, repeatedly comforting Duryodhana, proceeded towards the camp, frequently looking back at the lofty standard of Arjuna that seemed to be ablaze with his fame. At that terrible hour when everything around looked so resplendent, the Kauravas, all of whom had resolved to repair to the other world, their features incapable of recognition owing to the blood that covered them, beholding the earth, that was drenched with the blood flowing from the bodies of men and steeds and elephants, looking like a courtesan attired in crimson robes and floral garlands and ornaments of gold, were unable, O king, to stand there! Filled with grief at the slaughter of Karna, they indulged in loud lamentations, saying, "Alas, Karna! Alas Karna!" Beholding the Sun assume a crimson hue, all of them speedily proceeded towards their camp. As regards Karna, though slain and pierced with gold-winged shafts whetted on stone and equipped with feathers and dyed in blood and sped from Gandiva, yet that hero, lying on the ground, looked resplendent like the Sun himself of bright rays. It seemed that illustrious Surya, ever kind to his worshippers, having touched with his rays the gore-drenched body of Karna, proceeded, with aspect crimson in grief, to the other ocean from desire of a bath. Thinking so, the throngs of celestials and Rishis (that had come there for witnessing the battle) left the scene for proceeding to their respective abodes. The large crowd of other beings also, entertaining the same thought, went away, repairing as they chose to heaven or the earth. The foremost of Kuru heroes also, having beheld that wonderful battle between Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's son, which had inspired all living creatures with dread, proceeded (to their nightly quarters), filled with wonder and applauding (the encounter). Though his armour had been cut off with arrows, and though he had been slain in course of that dreadful fight, still that beauty of features which the son of Radha possessed did not abandon him when dead. Indeed, everyone beheld the body of the hero to resemble heated gold. It seemed to be endued with life and possessed of the effulgence of fire or the sun. All the warriors, O king, were inspired with fright at sight of the Suta's son lying dead on the field, like other animals at sight of the lion. Indeed, though dead, that tiger among men seemed ready to utter his commands. Nothing, in that illustrious dead, seemed changed. Clad in beautiful attire, and possessed of a neck that was very beautiful, the Suta's son owned a face which resembled the full moon in splendour. Adorned with diverse ornaments and decked with Angadas made of bright gold, Vaikartana, though slain, lay stretched like a gigantic tree adorned with branches and twigs. Indeed, that tiger among men lay like a heap of pure gold, or like a blazing fire extinguished with the water of Partha's shafts. Even as a blazing conflagration is extinguished when it comes in contact with water, the Karna-conflagration was extinguished by the Partha-cloud in the battle. Having shot showers of arrows and scorched the ten points of the compass, that tiger among men, viz., Karna, along with his sons, was quieted by Partha's energy. He left the world, taking away with him that blazing glory of his own which he had earned on earth by fair fight. Having scorched the Pandavas and the Pancalas with the energy of his weapons, having poured showers of arrows and burnt the hostile divisions, having, indeed, heated the universe like the thousand-rayed Surya of great beauty, Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana, left the world, with his sons and followers. Thus fell that hero who was a Kalpa tree unto those swarms of birds represented by suitors. Solicited by suitors he always said, "I give" but never the words "I have not!" The righteous always regarded him as a righteous person. Even such was Vrisha who fell in single combat. All the wealth of that high-souled person had been dedicated to the Brahmanas. There was nothing, not even his life, that he could not give away unto the Brahmanas. He was ever the favourite of ladies, exceedingly liberal, and a mighty car-warrior. Burnt by the weapons of Partha, he attained to the highest end. He, relying upon whom thy son had provoked hostilities, thus went to heaven, taking away with him the hope of victory, the happiness, and the armour of the Kauravas. When Karna fell, the rivers stood still. The Sun set with a pale hue. The planet Mercury, the son of Soma, assuming the hue of fire or the Sun, appeared to course through the firmament in a slanting direction. The firmament seemed to be rent in twain; the earth uttered loud roars; violent and awful winds began to blow. All the points of the horizon, covered with smoke, seemed to be ablaze. The great oceans were agitated and uttered awful sounds. The mountains with their forests began to tremble, and all creatures, O sire, felt pain. The planet Jupiter, afflicting the constellation Rohini assumed the hue of the moon or the sun. Upon the fall of Karna, the subsidiary points also of the compass became ablaze. The sky became enveloped in darkness. The earth trembled. Meteors of blazing splendour fell. Rakshasas and other wanderers of the night became filled with joy. When Arjuna, with that razor-faced shaft, struck off Karna's head adorned with a face beautiful as the moon, then, O king, loud cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" were heard of creatures in heaven, in the welkin, and on the earth. Having in battle slain his foe Karna who was worshipped by the gods, the Gandharvas, and human beings, Pritha's son Arjuna looked resplendent in his energy like the deity of a 1,000 eyes after the slaughter of Vritra. Then riding on that car of theirs whose rattle resembled the roar of the clouds and whose splendour was like that of the meridian sun of the autumnal sky, which was adorned with banners and equipped with a standard incessantly producing an awful noise, whose effulgence resembled that of the snow or the Moon or the conch or the crystal, and whose steeds were like those of Indra himself, those two foremost of men, viz., the son of Pandu and the crusher of Keshi, whose energy resembled that of the great Indra, and who were adorned with gold and pearls and gems and diamonds and corals, and who were like fire or the sun in splendour, fearlessly careered over the field of battle with great speed, like Vishnu and Vasava mounted on the same chariot. Forcibly divesting the enemy of his splendour by means of the twang of Gandiva and the slaps of their palms, and slaying the Kurus with showers of shafts, the Ape-bannered Arjuna, the Garuda-bannered Krishna, both of whom were possessed of immeasurable prowess, those two foremost of men, filled with joy, took up with their hands their loud-sounding conchs adorned with gold and white as snow, and placing them against their lips, blew simultaneously with those beautiful mouths of theirs, piercing the hearts of their foes with the sound. The blare of Pancajanya and that of Devadatta filled the earth, the sky, and heaven. "'At the sound of the heroic Madhava's conch as also at that of Arjuna's, all the Kauravas, O best of kings, became filled with fright. Those foremost of men, causing the forests, the mountains, the rivers and the points of the compass to resound with the blare of their conchs, and filling the army of thy son with fright, gladdened Yudhishthira therewith. As soon as the Kauravas heard the blare of those conchs that were thus being blown, all of them left the field with great speed, deserting the ruler of the Madras and the chief of the Bharatas, O Bharata, viz., Duryodhana. Then diverse creatures, uniting together, congratulated Dhananjaya, that hero shining resplendent on the field of battle, as also Janardana, those two foremost of men who then looked like a couple of risen suns. Pierced with Karna's arrows, those two chastisers of foes, Acyuta and Arjuna, looked resplendent like the bright and many-rayed moon and the sun risen after dispelling a gloom. Casting off those arrows, those two mighty warriors, both endued with unrivalled prowess, surrounded by well-wishers and friends, happily entered their own encampment, like the lords Vasava and Vishnu duly invoked by sacrificial priests. Upon the slaughter of Karna in that dreadful battle, the gods, Gandharvas, human beings, caranas, great Rishis, Yakshas, and great Nagas, worshipped Krishna and Arjuna with great respect and wished them victory (in all things). Having received all their friends then, each according to his age, and applauded by those friends in return for their incomparable feats, the two heroes rejoiced with their friends, like the chief of the celestials and Vishnu after the overthrow of Vali.'" 95 "Sanjaya said, 'Upon the fall of Karna otherwise called Vaikartana, the Kauravas, afflicted with fear, fled away on all sides, casting their eyes on empty space. Indeed, hearing that the heroic Karna had been slain by the foe, all thy troops, stupefied with fear, broke and fled in all directions. Then, O king, the leaders, filled with anxiety, desirous of withdrawing their troops, O Bharata, whose flight had been endeavoured to be checked by thy son. Understanding their wishes, thy son, O bull of Bharata's race, acting according to the advice of Shalya, withdrew the army. Then Kritavarma, O Bharata, surrounded by thy unslaughtered remnant of thy Narayana troops of thy army, quickly proceeded towards the encampment. Surrounded by a 1,000 Gandharas, Shakuni, beholding the son of Adhiratha slain, proceeded quickly towards the encampment. Sharadvata's son, Kripa, O king, surrounded by the large elephant force that resembled a mass of clouds, proceeded quickly towards the encampment. The heroic Ashvatthama, repeatedly drawing deep breaths at the sight of the victory of the Pandavas, proceeded quickly towards the encampment. Surrounded by the unslaughtered remnant of the samsaptakas which was still a large force, Susharma also, O king, proceeded, casting his eyes on those terrified soldiers. King Duryodhana, deeply afflicted and deprived of everything, proceeded, his heart filled with grief, and a prey to many cheerless thoughts. Shalya, that foremost of car-warriors, proceeded towards the camp, on that car deprived of standard, casting his eyes on all sides. The other mighty car-warriors of the Bharata army, still numerous, fled quickly, afflicted with fear, filled with shame, and almost deprived of their senses. Indeed seeing Karna overthrown, all the Kauravas fled away quickly, afflicted and anxious with fear, trembling, and with voices choked with tears. The mighty car-warriors of thy army fled away in fear, O chief of Kuru's race, some applauding Arjuna, some applauding Karna. Amongst those thousands of warriors of thy army in that great battle, there was not a single person who had still any wish for fight. Upon the fall of Karna, O monarch, the Kauravas became hopeless of life, kingdom, wives, and wealth. Guiding them with care, O lord, thy son, filled with grief and sorrow, set his heart upon resting them for the night. Those great car-warriors also, O monarch, accepting his orders with bent heads, retired from the field with cheerless hearts and pale faces.'" 96 "Sanjaya said, 'After Karna had thus been slain and the Kaurava troops had fled away, he of Dasharha's race, embracing Partha from joy, said unto him these words: "Vritra was slain by thee. Men will talk (in the same breath) of the slaughter of Vritra and Karna in awful battle. Vritra was slain in battle by the deity of great energy with his thunder. Karna hath been slain by thee with bow and sharp arrows. Go, O son of Kunti, and represent, O Bharata, unto king Yudhishthira the just, this prowess of thine that is capable of procuring thee great fame and that hath become well-known in the world. Having represented unto king Yudhishthira the just, this slaughter of Karna in battle for compassing which thou hadst been endeavouring for a long course of years, thou wilt be freed from the debt thou owest to the king. During the progress of the battle between thyself and Karna, the son of Dharma once came for beholding the field. Having, however, been deeply and exceedingly pierced (with arrows), he could not stay in battle. The king, that bull among men, then went back to his tent." Partha answered Keshava, that bull of Yadu's race, saying, "So be it!" The latter then cheerfully caused the car of that foremost of car-warriors to turn back. Having said these words unto Arjuna, Krishna addressed the soldiers, saying, "Blessed be ye, stand all of you carefully, facing the foe!" Unto Dhrishtadyumna and Yudhamanyu and the twin sons of Madri and Vrikodara and Yuyudhana, Govinda said, "Ye kings, until we come back having informed the king of Karna's slaughter by Arjuna, stand ye here with care." Having received the permission of these heroes, he then set out for the quarters of the king. With Partha in his company, Govinda beheld Yudhishthira, that tiger among kings, lying on an excellent bed of gold. Both of them then, with great joy, touched the feet of the king. Beholding their joy and the extraordinary wounds on their bodies, Yudhishthira regarded the son of Radha to be dead and rose quickly from his bed. That chastiser of foes, the mighty-armed monarch, having risen from his bed, repeatedly embraced Vasudeva and Arjuna with affection. That descendant of Kuru's race then asked Vasudeva (the particulars of Karna's death). Then the sweet-speeched Vasudeva that descendant of the Yadu race, spoke to him of Karna's death exactly as it had happened. Smiling then, Krishna, otherwise called Acyuta, joined his palms and addressed king Yudhishthira whose foes had been killed saying, "By good luck, the wielder of Gandiva, and Vrikodara, the son of Pandu, and thyself, and the two sons of Madri, are all safe, having been freed from this battle that has been so destructive of heroes and that made the very hair of the body to stand on end. Do thou those acts, O son of Pandu, which should next be done. The Suta's son Karna, possessed of great might and otherwise called Vaikartana, hath been slain. By good luck, victory hath become thine, O king of kings. By good luck, thou growest, O son of Pandu! The Earth drinketh today the blood of that Suta's son, that wretch among men, who had laughed at the dice-won Krishna. That foe of thine, O bull of Kuru's race, lieth today on the bare ground, pierced all over with arrows. Behold that tiger among men, pierced and mangled with shafts. O thou of mighty arms, rule now, with care, this earth that is divested of all thy foes, and enjoy with us, all kinds of enjoyable articles!"'" "Sanjaya continued, 'Having heard these words of the high-souled Keshava, Yudhishthira, with great joy, worshipped in return that hero of Dasharha's race. "Good luck, Good luck!" were the words, O monarch, that he said. And he added, "It is not wonderful, O mighty-armed one, in thee, O son of Devaki, that Partha, having obtained thee for his charioteer, should achieve feats that are even super-human." Then that chief of Kuru's race, that righteous son of Pritha, taking hold of Keshava's right arm adorned with Angadas, and addressing both Keshava and Arjuna, said, "Narada told me that ye two are the gods Nara and Narayana, those ancient and best of Rishis, that are ever employed in the preservation of righteousness. Gifted with great intelligence, the master Krishna Dvaipayana, the highly blessed Vyasa, also hath repeatedly told me this celestial history. Through thy influence, O Krishna, this Dhananjaya the son of Pandu, facing his foes, hath vanquished them, without ever turning back from any of them. Victory, and not defeat, we are certain to have, since thou hast accepted the drivership of Partha in battle." Having said these words, king Yudhishthira the just, that tiger among men, mounting his car, adorned with gold and having steeds of ivory white and black tails and fleet as thought harnessed unto it, and surrounded by many Pandava troops, set out, conversing pleasantly with Krishna and Arjuna along the way, for beholding the field of battle on which thousands of incidents had taken place. Conversing with those two heroes, viz., Madhava and Phalguna, the king beheld Karna, that bull among men, lying on the field of battle. Indeed, king Yudhishthira beheld Karna pierced all over with arrows like a Kadamva flower with straight filaments all around its body. Yudhishthira beheld Karna illuminated by thousands of golden lamps filled with perfumed oil. Having beheld Karna with his son slain and mangled with shafts sped from Gandiva, king Yudhishthira repeatedly looked at him before he could believe his eyes. He then applauded those tigers among men, Madhava and Phalguna, saying, "O Govinda, today I have become king of the earth, with my brothers, in consequence of thyself of great wisdom having become my protector and lord. Hearing of the slaughter of that tiger among men, the proud son of Radha, the wicked-souled son of Dhritarashtra will be filled with despair, as regards both life and kingdom. Through thy grace, O bull among men, we have acquired our objects. By good luck, victory hath been thine, O Govinda! By good luck, the enemy hath been slain. By good luck, the wielder of Gandiva, the son of Pandu, hath been crowned with victory. Thirteen years we have passed in wakefulness and great sorrow. O thou of mighty arms, through thy grace, we will sleep happily this night." In this way, O ruler of men, king Yudhishthira the just, praised Janardana greatly as also Arjuna, O monarch!' "Sanjaya continued, 'Beholding Karna with his son slain with Partha's shafts, that perpetuator of Kuru's race, Yudhishthira, regarded himself as reborn. The kings (in the Pandava army), great car-warriors--all filled with joy, approached Kunti's son Yudhishthira and gladdened him greatly. Nakula, and Sahadeva, and Vrikodara the son of Pandu, and Satyaki, O king, that foremost of car-warriors among the Vrishnis, and Dhrishtadyumna, and Shikhandi, and others among the Pandus, the Pancalas, and the Srinjayas, worshipped the son of Kunti at the slaughter of the Suta's son. Extolling king Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, those delighters in battle, those effectual smiters, those heroes possessed of sureness of aim and longing for victory, also praised those scorchers of foes, viz., the two Krishnas, with speeches fraught with panegyrics. Then those great car-warriors, filled with delight, proceeded towards their own camp. Thus occurred that great carnage, making the hair stand on end, in consequence, O king, of thy evil policy! Why dost thou grieve for it now?'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing those evil tidings, the Kuru king Dhritarashtra suddenly fell down on the ground from his excellent seat. Similarly, the royal lady Gandhari of great foresight fell down. She indulged in diverse lamentations, for the slaughter of Karna in battle. Then Vidura and Sanjaya both raised the fallen monarch and began to console him. Similarly the Kuru ladies raised Gandhari. Thinking destiny and necessity to be all powerful, that royal ascetic, under that great grief, seemed to lose his senses. His heart filled with anxiety and sorrow, the king, however, did not again swoon away. Comforted by them, he remained silent, indulging in melancholy musing. He that reads of this great battle, which is like unto a sacrifice, between the high-souled Dhananjaya and Adhiratha's son, so also he that hears the account of this battle read, both obtain, O Bharata, the fruit of a great sacrifice duly performed. The learned say that the holy and the eternal Vishnu is Sacrifice, and each of those other gods, viz., Agni, Wind, Soma, and Surya, is so. Therefore, he that will, without malice, hear or recite this Parvan, will be happy and capable of attaining to every region of bliss. Filled with devotion, men always read this sacred and first of Samhitas. They that do, rejoice, obtaining wealth, and grain, and fame. A man must, therefore, ever hear it without malice. He that does so will obtain all kinds of happiness. With that foremost of persons, Vishnu, and the illustrious Self-born, and Bhava also, become pleased. A Brahmana, by reading it, would obtain the fruit of having studied the Vedas; a Kshatriya obtains strength and victory in battle; Vaishyas would obtain immense wealth, and Shudras would obtain health and freedom from disease. Then again the illustrious Vishnu is eternal. And since it is that god who hath been glorified in this Parvan, it is for this that the man reading or hearing it becometh happy and acquireth all the objects of his heart. These words of the great Rishi (Vyasa) can never be untrue! The merit that may be attained by listening to the recitation of the Karna Parvan is equal to his who giveth away unceasingly for a whole year good cows with calves." The end of Karna Parva. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 9 Shalya-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 Om! Having bowed down unto Narayana and Nara, the most exalted of male beings, and the goddess Sarasvati, must the word Jaya be uttered. Janamejaya said, "After Karna had thus been slain in battle by Savyasaci, what did the small (unslaughtered) remnant of the Kauravas do, O regenerate one? Beholding the army of the Pandavas swelling with might and energy, what behaviour did the Kuru prince Suyodhana adopt towards the Pandavas, thinking it suitable to the hour? I desire to hear all this. Tell me, O foremost of regenerate ones, I am never satiated with listening to the grand feats of my ancestors." Vaishampayana said, "After the fall of Karna, O king, Dhritarashtra's son Suyodhana was plunged deep into an ocean of grief and saw despair on every side. Indulging in incessant lamentations, saying, 'Alas, oh Karna! Alas, oh Karna!' he proceeded with great difficulty to his camp, accompanied by the unslaughtered remnant of the kings on his side. Thinking of the slaughter of the Suta's son, he could not obtain peace of mind, though comforted by those kings with excellent reasons inculcated by the scriptures. Regarding destiny and necessity to be all-powerful, the Kuru king firmly resolved on battle. Having duly made Shalya the generalissimo of his forces, that bull among kings, O monarch, proceeded for battle, accompanied by that unslaughtered remnant of his forces. Then, O chief of Bharata's race, a terrible battle took place between the troops of the Kurus and those of the Pandavas, resembling that between the gods and the Asuras. Then Shalya, O monarch, having made a great carnage in battle at last lost a large number of his troops and was slain by Yudhishthira at midday. Then king Duryodhana, having lost all his friends and kinsmen, fled away from the field of battle and penetrated into the depths of a terrible lake from fear of his enemies. On the afternoon of that day, Bhimasena, causing the lake to be encompassed by many mighty car-warriors, summoned Duryodhana and having obliged him to come out, slew him speedily, putting forth his strength. After Duryodhana's slaughter, the three car-warriors (of the Kuru side) that were still unslain (Ashvatthama and Kripa and Kritavarma), filled with rage, O monarch, slaughtered the Pancala troops in the night. On the next morning Sanjaya, having set out from the camp, entered the city (the Kuru capital), cheerless and filled with grief and sorrow. Having entered the city, the Suta Sanjaya, raising his arms in grief, and with limbs trembling, entered the palace of the king. Filled with grief, O tiger among men, he wept aloud, saying, 'Alas, O king! Alas, all of us are ruined by the slaughter of that high-souled monarch. Alas, Time is all-powerful, and crooked in his course, since all our allies, endued with might equal to that of Shakra himself, have been slain by the Pandavas.' Seeing Sanjaya come back to the city, O king, in that distressful plight, all the people, O best of kings, filled with great anxiety, wept loudly, saying, 'Alas, O king! The whole city, O tiger among men, including the very children, hearing of Duryodhana's death, sent forth notes of lamentation from every side. We then beheld all the men and women running about, deeply afflicted with grief, their senses gone, and resembling people that are demented.' The Suta Sanjaya then, deeply agitated, entered the abode of the king and beheld that foremost of monarchs, that lord of men, having wisdom for his eyes. Beholding the sinless monarch, that chief of Bharata's race, seated, surrounded by his daughters-in-law and Gandhari and Vidura and by other friends and kinsmen that were always his well-wishers, and engaged in thinking on that very subject--the death of Karna--the Suta Sanjaya, with heart filled with grief, O Janamejaya, weepingly and in a voice choked with tears, said unto him, 'I am Sanjaya, O tiger among men. I bow to thee, O bull of Bharata's race. The ruler of the Madras, Shalya, hath been slain. Similarly, Subala's son Shakuni, and Uluka, O tiger among men, that valiant son of the gamester (Shakuni), have been slain. All the Samsaptakas, the Kambojas together with the Sakas, the Mlecchas, the Mountaineers, and the Yavanas, have also been slain. The Easterners have been slain, O monarch, and all the Southerners. The Northerners have all been slain, as also the Westerners, O ruler of men. All the kings and all the princes have been slain, O monarch. King Duryodhana also has been slain by the son of Pandu after the manner he had vowed. With his thighs broken, O monarch, he lieth now on the dust, covered with blood. Dhrishtadyumna also hath been slain, O king, as also the vanquished Shikhandi. Uttamauja and Yudhamanyu, O king, and the Prabhadrakas, and those tigers among men, the Pancalas, and the Cedis, have been destroyed. Thy sons have all been slain as also the (five) sons of Draupadi, O Bharata. The heroic and mighty son of Karna, Vrishasena, hath been slain. All the men that had been assembled have been slain. All the elephants have been destroyed. All the car-warriors, O tiger among men, and all the steeds, have fallen in battle. Very few are alive on thy side, O lord. In consequence of the Pandavas and the Kauravas having encountered each other, the world, stupefied by Time, now consists of only women. On the side of the Pandavas seven are alive, they are the five Pandava brothers, and Vasudeva, and Satyaki and amongst the Dhartarashtras three are so, Kripa, Kritavarma, and Drona's son, that foremost of victors. These three car-warriors, O monarch, are all that survive, O best of kings, of all the Akshauhinis mustered on thy side, O ruler of men. These are the survivors, O monarch, the rest have perished. Making Duryodhana and his hostility (towards the Pandavas) the cause, the world, it seems, hath been destroyed, O bull of Bharata's race, by Time.'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing these cruel words, Dhritarashtra, that ruler of men, fell down, O monarch, on the earth, deprived of his senses. As soon as the king fell down, Vidura also, of great fame, O monarch, afflicted with sorrow on account of the king's distress, fell down on the earth. Gandhari also, O best of kings, and all the Kuru ladies, suddenly fell down on the ground, hearing those cruel words. That entire conclave of royal persons remained lying on the ground, deprived of their senses and raving deliriously, like figures painted on a large piece of canvas. Then king Dhritarashtra, that lord of earth, afflicted with the calamity represented by the death of his sons, slowly and with difficulty regained his life-breaths. Having recovered his senses, the king, with trembling limbs and sorrowful heart, turned his face on every side, and said these words unto Kshattri (Vidura). 'O learned Kshattri, O thou of great wisdom, thou, O bull of Bharata's race, art now my refuge. I am lordless and destitute of all my sons.' Having said this, he once more fell down, deprived of his senses. Beholding him fallen, all his kinsmen that were present there sprinkled cold water over him and fanned him with fans. Comforted after a long while, that lord of earth, afflicted with sorrow on account of the death of his sons, remained silent, sighing heavily, O monarch, like a snake put into a jar. Sanjaya also wept aloud, beholding the king so afflicted. All the ladies too, with Gandhari of great celebrity, did the same. After a long while, O best of men, Dhritarashtra, having repeatedly swooned, addressed Vidura, saying, 'Let all the ladies retire, as also Gandhari of great fame, and all these friends. My mind hath become greatly unsettled.' Thus addressed, Vidura, repeatedly trembling, slowly dismissed the ladies, O bull of Bharata's race. All those ladies retired, O chief of the Bharatas, as also all those friends, beholding the king deeply afflicted. Then Sanjaya cheerlessly looked at the king, O scorcher of foes, who, having recovered his senses, was weeping in great affliction. With joined hands, Vidura then, in sweet words, comforted that ruler of men who was sighing incessantly.'" 2 Vaishampayana said, "After the ladies had been dismissed, Dhritarashtra, the son of Ambika, plunged into grief greater than that which had afflicted him before, began, O monarch, to indulge in lamentations, exhaling breaths that resembled smoke, and repeatedly waving his arms, and reflecting a little, O monarch, he said these words. "Dhritarashtra said, 'Alas, O Suta, the intelligence is fraught with great grief that I hear from thee, that the Pandavas are all safe and have suffered no loss in battle. Without doubt, my hard heart is made of the essence of thunder, since it breaketh not upon hearing of the fall of my sons. Thinking of their ages, O Sanjaya, and of their sports in childhood, and learning today that all of them have perished, my heart seems to break into pieces. Although in consequence of my blindness I never saw their forms, still I cherished a great love for them in consequence of the affection one feels for his children. Hearing that they had passed out of childhood and entered the period of youth and then of early manhood, I became exceedingly glad, O sinless one. Hearing today that have been slain and divested of prosperity and energy, I fail to obtain peace of mind, being overwhelmed with grief on account of the distress that has overtaken them. Come, come, O king of kings (Duryodhana) to me that am without a protector now! Deprived of thee, O mighty-armed one, what will be my plight? Why, O sire, abandoning all the assembled kings dost thou lie on the bare ground, deprived of life, like an ordinary and wretched king? Having been, O monarch, the refuge of kinsmen and friends, where dost thou go now, O hero, abandoning me that am blind and old? Where now, O king, is that compassion of thine, that love, and that respectfulness? Invincible as thou wert in battle, how, alas, hast thou been slain by the Parthas? Who will now, after I will have waked from sleep at the proper hour, repeatedly address me in such endearing and respectful words as, "O father, O father," "O great king," "O Lord of the world" and affectionately clasping my neck with moistened eyes, will seek my orders, saying, "Command me, O thou of Kuru's race." Address me, O son, in that sweet language once more. O dear child, I heard even these words from thy lips, "This wide earth is as much ours as it is of Pritha's son. Bhagadatta and Kripa and Shalya and the two princes of Avanti and Jayadratha and Bhurishrava and Sala and Somadatta and Bahlika and Ashvatthama and the chief of the Bhojas and the mighty prince of Magadha and Vrihadvala and the ruler of the Kasi and Shakuni the son of Subala and many thousands of Mlecchas and Sakas and Yavanas, and Sudakshina the ruler of the Kambojas and the king of the Trigartas and the grandsire Bhishma and Bharadwaja's son and Gotama's son (Kripa) and Srutayush and Ayutayush and Satayush of great energy, and Jalasandha and Rishyasringa's son and the Rakshasa Alayudha, and the mighty-armed Alambusa and the great car-warrior Subala--these and numerous other kings, O best of monarchs, have taken up arms for my sake, prepared to cast away their very lives in great battle, stationed on the field amidst these, and surrounded by my brothers, I will fight against all the Parthas and the Pancalas and the Cedis, O tiger among kings, and the sons of Draupadi and Satyaki and Kunti-Bhoja and the Rakshasa Ghatotkaca. Even one amongst these, O king, excited with rage, is able to resist in battle the Pandavas rushing towards him. What need I say then of all these heroes, every one of whom has wrong to avenge on the Pandavas, when united together? All these, O monarch, will fight with the followers of the Pandavas and will slay them in battle. Karna alone, with myself, will slay the Pandavas. All the heroic kings will then live under my sway. He, who is their leader, the mighty Vasudeva, will not, he has told me, put on mail for them, O king." Even in this way, O Suta, did Duryodhana often use to speak to me. Hearing what he said, I believed that the Pandavas would be slain in battle. When, however, my sons stationed in the midst of those heroes and exerting themselves vigorously in battle have all been slain, what can it be but destiny? When that lord of the world, the valiant Bhishma, having encountered Shikhandi, met with his death like a lion meeting with his at the hands of a jackal, what can it be but destiny? When the Brahmana Drona, that master of all weapons offensive and defensive, has been slain by the Pandavas in battle, what can it be but destiny? When Bhurishrava has been slain in battle, as also Somadatta and king Bahlika, what can it be but destiny? When Bhagadatta, skilled in fight from the backs of elephants, has been slain, and when Jayadratha hath been slain, what can it be but destiny? When Sudakshina has been slain, and Jalasandha of Puru's race, as also Srutayush, and Ayutayush, what can it be but destiny? When the mighty Pandya, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, has been slain in battle by the Pandavas, what can it be but destiny? When Vrihadvala has been slain and the mighty king of the Magadhas, and the valiant Ugrayudha, that type of all bowmen; when the two princes of Avanti (Vinda and Anuvinda) have been slain, and the ruler also of the Trigartas, as also numerous Samsaptakas, what can it be but destiny? When king Alambusa, and the Rakshasas Alayudha, and Rishyasringa's son, have been slain, what can it be but destiny? When the Narayanas have been slain, as also the Gopalas, those troops that were invincible in battle, and many thousands of Mlecchas, what can it be but destiny? When Shakuni, the son of Subala, and the mighty Uluka, called the gamester's son, that hero at the head of his forces, have been slain, what can it be but destiny? When innumerable high-souled heroes, accomplished in all kinds of weapons offensive and defensive and endued with prowess equal to that of Shakra himself, have been slain, O Suta, when Kshatriyas hailing from diverse realms, O Sanjaya, have all been slain in battle, what can it be but destiny? Endued with great might, my sons and grandsons have been slain, as also my friends and brethren, what can it be but destiny? Without doubt, man takes his birth, subject to destiny. That man who is possessed of good fortune meets with good. I am bereft of good fortune, and, therefore, am deprived of my children, O Sanjaya. Old as I am, how shall I now submit to the sway of enemies? I do not think anything other than exile into the woods to be good for me, O lord. Deprived of relatives and kinsmen as I am, I will go into the woods. Nothing other than an exile into the woods can be better for me who am fallen into this plight and who am shorn of my wings, O Sanjaya. When Duryodhana had been slain, when Shalya has been slain, when Duhshasana and Vivingsati and the mighty Vikarna have been slain, how shall I be able to bear the roars of that Bhimasena who hath alone slain a hundred sons of mine in battle? He will frequently speak of the slaughter of Duryodhana in my hearing. Burning with grief and sorrow, I shall not be able to bear his cruel words.'" Vaishampayana continued, "Even thus that king, burning with grief and deprived of relatives and kinsmen, repeatedly swooned, overwhelmed with sorrow on account of the death of his sons. Having wept for a long while, Dhritarashtra, the son of Ambika, breathed heavy and hot sighs at the thought of his defeat. Overwhelmed with sorrow, and burning with grief, that bull of Bharata's race once more enquired of his charioteer Sanjaya, the son of Gavalgana, the details of what had happened. "Dhritarashtra said, 'After Bhishma and Drona had been slain, and the Suta's son also overthrown, whom did my warriors make their generalissimo? The Pandavas are slaying without any delay everyone whom my warriors are making their generalissimo in battle. Bhishma was slain at the van of battle by the diadem-decked Arjuna in the very sight of all of you. Even thus was Drona slain in the sight of all of you. Even thus was the Suta's son, that valiant Karna, slain by Arjuna in the sight of all the kings. Long before, the high-souled Vidura had told me that through the fault of Duryodhana the population of the Earth would be exterminated. There are some fools that do not see things even though they cast their eyes on them. Those words of Vidura have been even so unto my foolish self. What Vidura of righteous soul, conversant with attributes of everything, then said, hath turned out exactly, for the words he uttered were nothing but the truth. Afflicted by fate, I did not then act according to those words. The fruits of that evil course have now manifested themselves. Describe them to me, O son of Gavalgana, once more! Who became the head of our army after Karna's fall? Who was that car-warrior who proceeded against Arjuna and Vasudeva? Who were they that protected the right wheel of the ruler of the Madras in battle? Who protected the left wheel of that hero when he went to battle? Who also guarded his rear? How, when all of you were together, could the mighty king of the Madras, as also my son, be slain, O Sanjaya, by the Pandavas? Tell me the details of the great destruction of the Bharatas. Tell me how my son Duryodhana fell in battle. Tell me how all the Pancalas with their followers, and Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi and the five sons of Draupadi, fell. Tell me how the (five) Pandavas and the two Satwatas (Krishna and Satyaki), and Kripa and Kritavarma and Drona's son, have escaped with life. I desire to hear everything about the manner in which the battle occurred and the kind of battle it was. Thou art skilled, O Sanjaya, in narration. Tell me everything.'" 3 "Sanjaya said, 'Hear, O king, with attention, how that great carnage of the Kurus and the Pandavas occurred when they encountered each other. After the Suta's son had been slain by the illustrious son of Pandu, and after thy troops had been repeatedly rallied and had repeatedly fled away, and after a terrible carnage had taken place, O foremost of men, of human beings in battle subsequent to Karna's death, Partha began to utter leonine roars. At that time a great fear entered the hearts of thy sons. Indeed, after Karna's death, there was no warrior in thy army who could set his heart upon rallying the troops or displaying his prowess. They then looked like ship-wrecked merchants on the fathomless ocean without a raft to save themselves. When their protector was slain by the diadem-decked Arjuna, they were like persons on the wide sea desirous of reaching some shore of safety. Indeed, O king, after the slaughter of the Suta's son, thy troops, struck with panic and mangled with arrows, were like unprotected men desirous of a protector or like a herd of deer afflicted by a lion. Vanquished by Savyasaci, they retired in the evening like bulls with broken horns or snakes shorn of their fangs. Their foremost of heroes slain, themselves thrown into confusion and mangled with keen arrows, thy sons, O king, upon the slaughter of the Suta's son, fled away in fear. Deprived of weapons and coats of mail, all of them lost their senses and knew not in which direction to fly. Casting their eyes on all sides in fear, many of them began to slaughter one another. Many fell down or became pale, thinking, "It is me whom Vibhatsu is pursuing!" "It is me whom Vrikodara is pursuing!" Some riding on fleet steeds, some on fleet cars, and some on fleet elephants, many great car-warriors fled away from fear, abandoning the foot-soldiers. Cars were broken by elephants, horsemen were crushed by great car-warriors, and bands of foot-soldiers were smashed and slain by bodies of horses as these fled away from the field. After the fall of the Suta's son, thy troops became like stragglers from a caravan in a forest abounding with robbers and beasts of prey. Some elephants whose riders had been slain, and others whose trunks had been cut off, afflicted with fear, beheld the whole world to be full of Partha. Beholding his troops flying away afflicted with the fear of Bhimasena Duryodhana then, with cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" addressed his driver, saying, "If I take up my post at the rear of the army, armed with my bow, Partha then will never be able to transgress me. Urge the steeds, therefore, with speed. When I will put forth my valour in battle, Dhananjaya the son of Kunti will not venture to transgress me like the ocean never venturing to transgress its continents. Today, slaying Arjuna with Govinda, and the proud Vrikodara, and the rest of my foes, I will free myself from the debt I owe to Karna." Hearing these words of the Kuru king, so becoming a hero and an honourable man, his driver slowly urged those steeds adorned with trappings of gold. At that time many brave warriors deprived of elephants and steeds and cars, and 25,000 foot-soldiers, O sire, proceeded slowly (for battle). Then Bhimasena, filled with wrath, and Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishata, encompassing those troops with the assistance of four kinds of forces, destroyed them with shafts. All of them fought vigorously with Bhima and Prishata's son. Many amongst them challenged the two Pandava heroes, mentioning their names. Surrounded by them in battle, Bhima became enraged with them. Quickly descending from his car, he began to fight, armed with his mace. Relying on the might of his own arms, Vrikodara the son of Kunti, who was on his car, observant of the rules of fair fight, did not fight with those foes who were on the ground. Armed then with that heavy mace of his that was made entirely of iron and adorned with gold and equipped with a sling, and that resembled the Destroyer himself as he becomes at the end of Yuga, Bhima slew them all like Yama slaughtering creatures with his club. Those foot-soldiers, excited with great rage, having lost their friends and kinsmen, were prepared to throw away their lives, and rushed in that battle towards Bhima like insects towards a blazing fire. Indeed, those warriors, filled with rage and invincible in battle, approaching Bhimasena, suddenly perished like living creatures at the glance of the Destroyer. Armed with sword and mace, Bhima careered like a hawk and slaughtered those 25,000 warriors of thine. Having slain that brave division, the mighty Bhima, of prowess incapable of being baffled, once more stood, with Dhrishtadyumna before him. Meanwhile, Dhananjaya of great energy proceeded towards the car-division (of the Kurus). The twin sons of Madri and the mighty car-warrior Satyaki, all endued with great strength, cheerfully rushed against Shakuni with great speed from desire of slaying him. Having slain with keen shafts the numerous cavalry of Shakuni, those Pandava heroes quickly rushed against Shakuni himself, whereupon a fierce battle was fought there. Then Dhananjaya, O king, penetrated into the midst of the car-division of the Kauravas, stretching his bow Gandiva celebrated over the three worlds. Beholding that car having white steeds yoked unto it and owning Krishna for its driver coming towards them, with Arjuna as the warrior on it, thy troops fled away in fear. Deprived of cars and steeds and pierced with shafts from every side, 25,000 foot-soldiers proceeded towards Partha and surrounded him. Then that mighty car-warrior amongst the Pancalas (Dhrishtadyumna) with Bhimasena at his head, speedily slew that brave division and stood triumphant. The son of the Pancala king, the celebrated Dhrishtadyumna, was a mighty bowman possessed of great beauty and a crusher of large bands of foes. At sight of Dhrishtadyumna unto whose car were yoked steeds white as pigeons and whose standard was made of a lofty Kovidara, the troops fled away in fear. The celebrated sons of Madri, with Satyaki among them, engaged in the pursuit of the Gandhara king who was quick in the use of weapons, speedily appeared to our view. Chekitana and the (five) sons of Draupadi, O sire, having slain a large number of thy troops, blew their conchs. Beholding all the troops flying away with their faces from the field, those (Pandava) heroes pursued and smote them like bulls pursuing vanquished bulls. Then the mighty Savyasaci, the son of Pandu, beholding a remnant of thy army still keeping their ground, became filled with rage, O king. Suddenly, O monarch, he shrouded that remnant of thy forces with arrows. The dust, however, that was then raised enveloped the scene, in consequence of which we could not see anything. Darkness also spread over the scene, and the field of battle was covered with arrows. Thy troops, O monarch, then fled away in fear on all sides. When his army was thus broken, the Kuru king, O monarch, rushed against both friends and foes. Then Duryodhana challenged all the Pandavas to battle, O chief of Bharata's race, like the Asura Vali in days of yore challenging all the celestials. The Pandavas then, uniting together and filled with rage, upbraiding him repeatedly and shooting diverse weapons, rushed against the roaring Duryodhana. The latter, however, fearlessly smote his foes with shafts. The prowess that we then saw of thy son was exceedingly wonderful, since all the Pandavas together were unable to transgress him. At this time Duryodhana beheld, staying at a little distance from him, his troops, exceedingly mangled with shafts, and prepared to fly away. Rallying them then, O monarch, thy son, resolved on battle and desirous of gladdening them, addressed those warriors, saying, "I do not see that spot on plain or mountain whither, if you fly, the Pandavas will not slay you. What is the use then in flight? The Pandava army hath now been reduced to a small remnant. The two Krishnas have been exceedingly mangled. If all of us make a stand here, we are certain to have victory. If, however, you fly away, breaking your array, the Pandavas, pursuing your sinful selves, will slay all of you. Death in battle, therefore, is for our good. Death in the field of battle while engaged in fight according to Kshatriya practices is pleasant. Such death produces no kind of grief. By encountering such a death, a person enjoys eternal happiness in the other world. Let all the Kshatriyas assembled here listen to me. It were better that they should even submit to the power of the angry Bhimasena than that they should abandon the duties practised by them from the days of their ancestors. There is no act more sinful for a Kshatriya than flight from battle. You Kauravas, there is not a better path to heaven than the duty of battle. The warrior acquires in a day regions of bliss (in the other world) that take many long years for others to acquire." Fulfilling those words of the king, the great Kshatriya car-warriors once more rushed against the Pandavas, unable to endure their defeat and firmly resolved to put forth their prowess. Then commenced a battle once more, that was exceedingly fierce, between thy troops and the enemy, and that resembled the one between the gods and the Asuras. Thy son Duryodhana then, O monarch, with all his troops, rushed against the Pandavas headed by Yudhishthira.'" 4 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the fallen boxes of cars, as also the cars of high-souled warriors, and the elephants and foot-soldiers, O sire, slain in battle, seeing the field of battle assume an aspect as awful as that of the sporting ground of Rudra, observing the inglorious end obtained by hundreds and thousands of kings, witnessing also the prowess of Partha after the retreat of thy son with grief-stricken heart and when thy troops, filled with anxiety and fallen into great distress, O Bharata, were deliberating as to what they should next do, hearing also the loud wails of the Kaurava warriors that were being crushed, and marking the displayed and disordered tokens of great kings, the Kuru leader Kripa of great energy, possessed of years and good conduct and filled with compassion, and endued with eloquence, approached king Duryodhana, and angrily said these words unto him, "O Duryodhana, listen, O Bharata, to these words that I will say unto thee. Having heard them, O monarch, do thou act according to them, O sinless one, if it pleases thee. There is no path, O monarch, that is better than the duty of battle. Having recourse to that path, Kshatriyas, O bull of the Kshatriya order, engage in battle. He who lives in the observance of Kshatriya practices fights with son, sire, brother, sister's son, and maternal uncle, and relatives, and kinsmen. If he is slaughtered in battle, there is great merit in it. Similarly, there is great sin in it if he flies from the field. It is for this that the life of a person desirous of living by the adoption of Kshatriya duties is exceedingly terrible. Unto thee, as regards this, I will say a few beneficial words. After the fall of Bhishma and Drona and the mighty car-warrior Karna, after the slaughter of Jayadratha and thy brothers, O sinless one, and thy son Lakshmana, what is there now for us to do? They upon whom we had rested all burdens of sovereignty we had been enjoying, have all gone to regions of blessedness attainable by persons conversant with Brahma, casting off their bodies. As regards ourselves, deprived of those great car-warriors possessed of numerous accomplishments, we shall have to pass our time in grief, having caused numerous kings to perish. When all those heroes were alive, even then Vibhatsu could not be vanquished. Having Krishna, for his eyes, that mighty-armed hero is incapable of being defeated by the very gods. The vast (Kaurava) host, approaching his Ape-bearing standard that is lofty as an Indra's pole (set up in the season of spring) and that is effulgent as Indra's bow, hath always trembled in fear. At the leonine roars of Bhimasena and the blare of Panchajanya and the twang of Gandiva, our heart will die away within us. Moving like flashes of lightning, and blinding our eyes, Arjuna's Gandiva is seen to resemble a circle of fire. Decked with pure gold, that formidable bow as it is shaken, looks like lightning's flash moving about on every side. Steeds white in hue and possessed of great speed and endued with the splendour of the Moon or the Kusa grass, and that run devouring the skies, are yoked unto his car. Urged on by Krishna, like the masses of clouds driven by the wind, and their limbs decked with gold, they bear Arjuna to battle. That foremost of all persons conversant with arms, Arjuna, burned that great force of thine like a swelling conflagration consuming dry grass in the forest in the season of winter. Possessed of the splendour of Indra himself, while penetrating into our ranks, we have seen Dhananjaya to look like an elephant with four tusks. While agitating thy army and inspiring the kings with fear, we have seen Dhananjaya to resemble an elephant agitating a lake overgrown with lotuses. While terrifying all the warriors with the twang of his bow, we have again seen the son of Pandu to resemble a lion inspiring smaller animals with dread. Those two foremost of bowmen in all the worlds, those two bulls among all persons armed with the bow, the two Krishnas, clad in mail, are looking exceedingly beautiful. Today is the seventeenth day of this awful battle, O Bharata, of those that are being slaughtered in the midst of this fight. The diverse divisions of thy army are broken and dispersed like autumnal clouds dispersed by the wind. Savyasaci, O monarch, caused thy army to tremble and reel like a tempest-tossed boat exposed on the bosom of the ocean. Where was the Suta's son, where was Drona with all his followers, where was I, where wert thou, where was Hridika's son, where thy brother Duhshasana accompanied by his brothers (when Jayadratha was slain)? Upon beholding Jayadratha and finding him within the range of his arrows, Arjuna, putting forth his process upon all thy kinsmen and brothers and allies and maternal uncles, and placing his feet upon their heads, slew king Jayadratha in the very sight of all. What then is there for us to do now? Who is there among thy troops now that would vanquish the son of Pandu? That high-souled warrior possesses diverse kinds of celestial weapons. The twang, again, of Gandiva robbeth us of our energies. This army of thine that is now without a leader is like a night without the Moon, or like a river that is dried up with all the trees on its banks broken by elephants. The mighty-armed Arjuna of white steeds will, at his pleasure, career amid this thy masterless host, like a blazing conflagration amid a heap of grass. The impetuosity of those two, Satyaki and Bhimasena, would split all the mountains or dry up all the oceans. The words that Bhima spoke in the midst of the assembly have all been nearly accomplished by him, O monarch. That which remains unaccomplished will again be accomplished by him. While Karna was battling before it, the army of the Pandavas, difficult to be defeated, was vigorously protected by the wielder of Gandiva. You have done many foul wrongs, without any cause, unto the righteous Pandavas. The fruits of those acts have now come. For the sake of thy own objects thou hadst, with great care, mustered together a large force. That vast force, as also thyself, O bull of Bharata's race, have fallen into great danger. Preserve thy own self now, for self is the refuge of everything. If the refuge is broken, O sire, everything inhering thereto is scattered on every side. He that is being weakened should seek peace by conciliation. He that is growing should make war. This is the policy taught by Brihaspati. We are now inferior to the sons of Pandu as regards the strength of our army. Therefore, O lord, I think, peace with the Pandavas is for our good. He that does not know what is for his good, or (knowing) disregards what is for his good, is soon divested of his kingdom and never obtains any good. If, by bowing unto king Yudhishthira sovereignty may still remain to us, even that would be for our good, and not, O king, to sustain through folly defeat (at the hands of the Pandavas). Yudhishthira is compassionate. At the request of Vichitravirya's son and of Govinda, he will allow you to continue as king. Whatever Hrishikesa will say unto the victorious king Yudhishthira and Arjuna and Bhimasena, all of them will, without doubt, obey. Krishna will not, I think, be able to transgress the words of Dhritarashtra of Kuru's race, nor will the son of Pandu be able to transgress those of Krishna. A cessation of hostilities with the sons of Pritha is what I consider to be for thy good. I do not say this unto thee from any mean motives nor for protecting my life. I say, O king, that which I regard to be beneficial. Thou wilt recollect these words when thou wilt be on the point of death (if thou neglectest them now)." Advanced in years, Kripa the son of Saradwat said these words weepingly. Breathing long and hot breaths, he then gave way to sorrow and almost lost his senses.'" 5 "Sanjaya said, 'Thus addressed by the celebrated grandson of Gotama, the king (Duryodhana), breathing long and hot breaths, remained silent, O monarch. Having reflected for a little while, the high-souled son of Dhritarashtra, that scorcher of foes, then said these words unto Saradwat's son Kripa, "Whatever a friend should say, thou hast said unto me. Thou hast also, whilst battling, done everything for me, without caring for thy very life. The world has seen thee penetrate into the midst of the Pandava divisions and fight with the mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas endued with great energy. That which should be said by a friend hast been said by thee. Thy words, however, do not please me, like medicine that ill pleases the person that is on the point of death. These beneficial and excellent words, fraught with reason, that thou, O mighty-armed one, hast said do not seem acceptable to me, O foremost of Brahmanas. Deprived by us of his kingdom (on a former occasion), why will the son of Pandu repose his trust on us? That mighty king was once defeated by us at dice. Why will he again believe my words? So also, Krishna, ever engaged in the good of the Parthas, when he came to us as an envoy, was deceived by us. That act of ours was exceedingly ill-judged. Why then, O regenerate one, will Hrishikesa trust my words? The princess Krishna, while standing in the midst of the assembly, wept piteously. Krishna will never forget that act of ours, nor that act, the deprivation of Yudhishthira by us of his kingdom. Formerly, it was heard by us that the two Krishnas have the same heart between them and are firmly united with each other. Today, O lord, we have seen it with our eyes. Having heard of the slaughter of his sister's son, Keshava passeth his nights in sorrow. We have offended him highly. Why will he forgive us then? Arjuna also, in consequence of Abhimanyu's death, hath become very miserable. Even if solicited, why will he strike for my good? The second son of Pandu, the mighty Bhimasena, is exceedingly fierce. He has made a terrible vow. He will break but not bend. The heroic twins, breathing animosity against us, when clad in mail and armed with their swords, resemble a pair of Yamas. Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi have drawn their swords against me. Why will those two, O best of Brahmanas, strive for my good? While clad in a single raiment and in her season, the princess Krishna was treated cruelly by Duhshasana in the midst of the assembly and before the eyes of all. Those scorchers of foes, the Pandavas, who still remember the naked Draupadi plunged into distress, can never be dissuaded from battle. "'"Then again, Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, is in sorrow, undergoing the austerest of penances for my destruction and the success of the objects cherished by her husbands, and sleepeth every day on the bare ground, intending to do so till the end of the hostilities is attained. Abandoning honour and pride, the uterine sister of Vasudeva (Subhadra) is always serving Draupadi as veritable waiting woman. Everything, therefore, hath flamed up. That fire can never be quenched. Peace with them hath become impossible in consequence of the slaughter of Abhimanyu. Having also enjoyed the sovereignty of this earth bounded by the ocean, how shall I be able to enjoy, under favour of the Pandavas, a kingdom in peace? Having shone like the Sun upon the heads of all the kings, how shall I walk behind Yudhishthira like a slave? Having enjoyed all enjoyable articles and shown great compassion, how shall I lead a miserable life now, with miserable men as my companions? I do not hate those mild and beneficial words that thou hast spoken. I, however, do not think that this is the time for peace. To fight righteously is, O scorcher of foes, what I regard to be good policy. This is not the time for acting like a eunuch. On the other hand, that is time for the battle. I have performed many sacrifices. I have given away Dakshinas to Brahmanas, I have obtained the attainment of all my wishes. I have listened to Vedic recitations. I have walked upon the heads of my foes. My servants have all been well cherished by me. I have relieved people in distress. I dare not, O foremost of regenerate ones, address such humble words to the Pandavas. I have conquered foreign kingdoms. I have properly governed my own kingdom. I have enjoyed diverse kinds of enjoyable articles. Religion and profit and pleasure I have pursued. I have paid off my debt to the Pitris and to Kshatriya duty. Certainly, there is no happiness here. What becomes of kingdom, and what of good name? Fame is all that one should acquire here. That fame can be obtained by battle, and by no other means. The death that a Kshatriya meets with at home is censurable. Death on one's bed at home is highly sinful. The man who casts away his body in the woods or in battle after having performed sacrifices, obtains great glory. He is no man who dies miserably weeping in pain, afflicted by disease and decay, in the midst of crying kinsmen. Abandoning diverse objects of enjoyment, I shall now, by righteous battle, proceed to the regions of Shakra, obtaining the companionship of those that have attained to the highest end. Without doubt, the habitation of heroes of righteous behaviour, who never retreat from battle, who are gifted with intelligence and devoted to truth, who are performers of sacrifices, and who have been sanctified in the sacrifice of weapons, is in heaven. The diverse tribes of Apsaras, without doubt, joyfully gaze at such heroes when engaged in battle. Without doubt, the Pitris behold them worshipped in the assembly of the gods and rejoicing in heaven, in the company of Apsaras. We will now ascend the path that is trod by the celestials and by heroes unreturning from battle, that path which has been taken by our venerable grandsire, by the preceptor endued with great intelligence, by Jayadratha, by Karna, and by Duhshasana. Many brave kings, who had exerted themselves vigorously for my sake in this battle, have been slain. Mangled with arrows and their limbs bathed in blood, they lie now on the bare Earth. Possessed of great courage and conversant with excellent weapons, those kings, who had, again, performed sacrifices as ordained in the scriptures, having cast off their life breaths in the discharge of their duties, have now become the denizens of Indra's abode. They have paved the way (to that blessed region). That road will once more be difficult in consequence of the crowds of heroes that will hurry along it for reaching that blessed goal. Remembering with gratitude the feats of those heroes that have died for me, I desire to pay off the debt I owe them, instead of fixing my heart upon kingdom. If, having caused my friends and brothers and grandsires to be slain, I save my own life, the world will without doubt, censure me. What kind of sovereignty will that be which I will enjoy, destitute of kinsmen and friends and well-wishers, and bowing down unto the son of Pandu? I, who have lorded it over the universe in that way, will now acquire heaven by fair fight. It will not be otherwise." Thus addressed by Duryodhana, all the Kshatriyas there applauded that speech and cheered the king, saying, "Excellent, Excellent." Without at all grieving for their defeat, and firmly resolved upon displaying their prowess, all of them, being determined to fight, became filled with enthusiasm. Having groomed their animals, the Kauravas, delighting at the prospect of battle, took up their quarters (for the night) at a spot a little less than two Yojanas distant from the field. Having reached the Sarasvati of red waters on the sacred and beautiful table-land at the foot of Himavat, they bathed in that water and quenched their thirst with it. Their spirits raised by thy son, they continued to wait (on their resting ground). Once more rallying their own selves as well as one another, all those Kshatriyas, O king, urged by fate, waited (in their encampment).'" 6 "Sanjaya said, 'On that table land at the foot of Himavat, those warriors, O monarch, delighting at the prospect of battle and assembled together, passed the night. Indeed, Shalya and Chitrasena and the mighty car-warrior Shakuni and Ashvatthama and Kripa and Kritavarma of the Satwata race, and Sushena and Arishtasena and Dhritasena of great energy and Jayatsena and all these kings passed the night there. After the heroic Karna had been slain in battle, thy sons, inspired with fright by the Pandavas desirous of victory, failed to obtain peace anywhere else than on the mountains of Himavat. All of them then, O king, who were resolved on battle, duly worshipped the king and said unto him, in the presence of Shalya, these words, "It behoveth thee to fight with the enemy, after having made some one the generalissimo of thy army, protected by whom in battle we will vanquish our foes." Then Duryodhana, without alighting from his car (proceeded towards) that foremost of car-warriors, that hero conversant with all the rules of battle (Ashvatthama), who resembled the Destroyer himself in battle. Possessed of beautiful limbs, of head well covered, of a neck adorned with three lines like those in a conch shell, of sweet speech, of eyes resembling the petals of a full blown lotus, and of a face like that of the dignity of Meru, resembling the bull of Mahadeva as regards neck, eyes, tread, and voice, endued with arms that were large, massive, and well-joined, having a chest that was broad and well-formed, equal unto Garuda or the wind in speed and might, gifted with a splendour like that of the rays of the Sun, rivalling Usanas himself in intelligence and the Moon in beauty and form and charms of face, with a body that seemed to be made of a number of golden lotuses, with well-made joints, of well-formed thighs and waist and hips, of beautiful fingers, and beautiful nails, he seemed to have been made by the Creator with care after collecting one after another all the beautiful and good attributes of creation. Possessed of every auspicious mark, and clever in every act, he was an ocean of learning. Ever vanquishing his foes with great speed, he was incapable of being forcibly vanquished by foes. He knew, in all its details, the science of weapons consisting of four padas and ten angas. He knew also the four Vedas with all their branches, and the Akhyanas as the fifth. Possessed of great ascetic merit, Drona, himself not born of woman, having worshipped the Three-eyed deity with great attention and austere vows, begat him upon a wife not born of woman. Approaching that personage of unrivalled feats, that one who is unrivalled in beauty on Earth, that one who has mastered all branches of learning, that ocean of accomplishments, that faultless Ashvatthama, thy son told him these words, "Thou, O preceptor's son, art today our highest refuge. Tell us, therefore, who is to be the generalissimo of my forces now, placing whom at our head, all of us, united together, may vanquish the Pandavas?" "'(Thus addressed), the son of Drona answered, "Let Shalya become the leader of our army. In descent, in prowess, in energy, in fame, in beauty of person, and in every other accomplishment, he is superior. Mindful of the services rendered to him, he has taken up our side, having abandoned the sons of his own sister. Owning a large force of his own, that mighty-armed one is like a second (Kartikeya, the) celestial generalissimo. Making that king the commander of our forces, O best of monarchs, we will be able to gain victory, like the gods, after making the unvanquished Skanda their commander." After Drona's son had said these words, all the kings stood, surrounding Shalya, and cried victory to him. Having made up their minds for battle, they felt great joy. Then Duryodhana, alighting from his car, joined his hands and addressing Shalya, that rival of Drona and Bhishma in battle, who was on his car, said these words, "O thou that art devoted to friends, that time has now come for thy friends when intelligent men examine persons in the guise of friends as to whether they are true friends or otherwise. Brave as thou art, be thou our generalissimo at the van of our army. When thou wilt proceed to battle, the Pandavas, with their friends, will become cheerless, and the Pancalas will be depressed." "'Shalya answered, "I will, O king of the Kurus, accomplish that which thou askest me to accomplish. Everything I have--my life breath, my kingdom, my wealth--is at thy service." "'Duryodhana said, "I solicit thee with offer of the leadership of my army, O maternal uncle. O foremost of warriors, protect us incomparably, even as Skanda protected the gods in battle. O foremost of kings, thyself cause thy own self to be installed in the command as Pavaka's son Kartikeya in the command of (the forces of) the celestials. O hero, slay our foes in battle like Indra slaying the Danavas."'" 7 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing these words of the (Kuru) king, the valiant monarch (Shalya), O king, said these words unto Duryodhana in reply, "O mighty-armed Duryodhana, listen to me, O foremost of eloquent men. Thou regardest the two Krishnas, when on their car, to be the foremost of car-warriors. They are not, however, together equal to me in might of arms. What need I say of the Pandavas? When angry, I can fight, at the van of battle, with the whole world consisting of gods, Asuras, and men, risen up in arms. I will vanquish the assembled Parthas and the Somakas in battle. Without doubt, I will become the leader of thy troops. I will form such an array that our enemies will not be able to overmaster it. I say this to thee, O Duryodhana. There is no doubt in this." Thus addressed (by Shalya), king Duryodhana cheerfully poured sanctified water, without losing any time, O best of the Bharatas, on the ruler of the Madras, in the midst of his troops, according to the rites ordained in the scriptures, O monarch. After Shalya had been invested with the command, loud leonine roars arose among thy troops and diverse musical instruments also, O Bharata, were beat and blown. The Kaurava warriors became very cheerful, as also the mighty car-warriors among the Madrakas. And all of them praised the royal Shalya, that ornament of battle, saying, "Victory to thee, O king. Long life to thee! Slay all the assembled foes! Having obtained the might of thy arms, let the Dhartarashtras endued with great strength, rule the wide Earth without a foe. Thou art capable of vanquishing in battle the three worlds consisting of the gods, the Asuras, what need be said of the Somakas and the Srinjayas that are mortal?" Thus praised, the mighty king of the Madrakas obtained great joy that is unattainable by persons of unrefined souls. "'Shalya said, "Today, O king, I will either slay all the Pancalas with the Pandavas in battle, or, slain by them, proceed to heaven. Let the world behold me today careering (on the field of battle) fearlessly. Today let all the sons of Pandu, and Vasudeva, and Satyaki, and the sons of Draupadi, and Dhrishtadyumna, and Shikhandi, and all the Prabhadrakas, behold my prowess and the great might of my bow, and my quickness, and the energy of my weapons, and the strength of my arms, in battle. Let the Parthas, and all the Siddhas, with the Charanas behold today the strength that is in my arms and the wealth of weapons I possess. Beholding my prowess today, let the mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas, desirous of counteracting it, adopt diverse courses of action. Today I will rout the troops of the Pandavas on all sides. Surpassing Drona and Bhishma and the Suta's son, O lord, in battle, I will career on the field, O Kauravas, for doing what is agreeable to thee."' "Sanjaya continued, 'After Shalya had been invested with the command, O giver of honours, no one among thy troops, O bull of Bharata's race, any longer felt any grief on account of Karna. Indeed, the troops became cheerful and glad. They regarded the Parthas as already slain and brought under the power of the ruler of the Madras. Having obtained great joy, thy troops, O bull of Bharata's race, slept that night happily and became very cheerful. Hearing those shouts of thy army, king Yudhishthira, addressing him of Vrishni's race, said these words, in the hearing of all the Kshatriyas, "The ruler of the Madras, Shalya, that great bowman who is highly regarded by all the warriors hath, O Madhava, been made the leader of his forces by Dhritarashtra's son. Knowing this that has happened, do, O Madhava, that which is beneficial. Thou art our leader and protector. Do that which should next be done." Then Vasudeva, O monarch, said unto that king, "I know Artayani, O Bharata, truly. Endued with prowess and great energy, he is highly illustrious. He is accomplished, conversant with all the modes of warfare, and possessed of great lightness of hand. I think that the ruler of the Madras is in battle equal to Bhishma or Drona or Karna, or perhaps, superior to them. I do not, O ruler of men, even upon reflection, find the warrior who may be a match for Shalya while engaged in fight. In battle, he is superior in might to Shikhandi and Arjuna and Bhima and Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna, O Bharata. The king of the Madras, O monarch, endued with the prowess of a lion or an elephant, will career fearlessly in battle like the Destroyer himself in wrath amongst creatures at the time of the universal destruction. I do not behold a match for him in battle save thee, O tiger among men, that art possessed of prowess equal to that of a tiger. Save thee there is no other person in either heaven or the whole of this world, who, O son of Kuru's race, would be able to slay the ruler of the Madras while excited with wrath in battle. Day after day engaged in fight, he agitates thy troops. For this, slay Shalya in battle, like Maghavat slaying Samvara. Treated with honour by Dhritarashtra's son, that hero is invincible in battle. Upon the fall of the ruler of the Madras in battle, thou art certain to have victory. Upon his slaughter, the vast Dhartarashtra host will be slain. Hearing, O monarch, these words of mine now, proceed, O Partha, against that mighty car-warrior, the ruler of the Madras. Slay that warrior, O thou of mighty arms, like Vasava slaying the Asura Namuchi. There is no need of showing any compassion here, thinking that this one is thy maternal uncle. Keeping the duties of a Kshatriya before thee, slay the ruler of the Madras. Having crossed the fathomless oceans represented by Bhishma and Drona and Karna, do not sink, with thy followers, in the print of a cow's hoof represented by Shalya. Display in battle the whole of thy ascetic power and thy Kshatriya energy. Slay that car-warrior." Having said these words, Keshava, that slayer of hostile heroes, proceeded to his tent in the evening, worshipped by the Pandavas. After Keshava had gone, king Yudhishthira the just, dismissing all his brothers and the Somakas, happily slept that night, like an elephant from whose body the darts have been plucked out. All those great bowmen of the Pancalas and Pandavas, delighted in consequence of the fall of Karna, slept that night happily. Its fever dispelled, the army of the Pandavas, abounding with great bowmen and mighty car-warriors having reached the shore as it were, became very happy that night, in consequence of the victory, O sire, it had won by the slaughter of Karna.'" 8 "Sanjaya said, 'After that night had passed away, king Duryodhana then, addressing all thy soldiers, said, "Arm, you mighty car-warriors!" Hearing the command of the king, the warriors began to put on their armour. Some began to yoke their steeds to their cars quickly, others ran hither and thither. The elephants began to be equipped. The foot-soldiers began to arm. Others, numbering thousands, began to spread carpets on the terraces of cars. The noise of musical instruments, O monarch, arose there, for enhancing the martial enthusiasm of the soldiers. Then all the troops, placed in their proper posts, were seen, O Bharata, to stand, clad in mail and resolved to make death their goal. Having made the ruler of the Madras their leader, the great car-warriors of the Kauravas, distributing their troops, stood in divisions. Then all thy warriors, with Kripa and Kritavarma and Drona's son and Shalya and Subala's son and the other kings that were yet alive, met thy son, and arrived at this understanding, that none of them would individually and alone fight with the Pandavas. And they said, "He amongst us that will fight, alone and unsupported, with the Pandavas, or he that will abandon a comrade engaged in fight, will be stained with the five grave sins and all the minor sins." And they said, "All of us, united together, will fight with the foe." Those great car-warriors, having made such an understanding with one another placed the ruler of the Madras at their head and quickly proceeded against their foes. Similarly, all the Pandavas, having arrayed their troops in great battle, proceeded against the Kauravas, O king, for fighting with them on every side. Soon, O chief of the Bharatas, that host, whose noise resembled that of the agitated ocean, and which seemed to be wonderful in consequence of its cars and elephants, presented the aspect of the vast deep swelling with its surges.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'I have heard of the fall of Drona, of Bhishma and of the son of Radha. Tell me now of the fall of Shalya and of my son. How, indeed, O Sanjaya, was Shalya slain by king Yudhishthira the just? And how was my son Duryodhana slain by Bhimasena of great might?' "Sanjaya said, 'Hear, O king, with patience, of the destruction of human bodies and the loss of elephants and steeds, as I describe (to thee) the battle. The hope became strong, O king, in the breasts of thy sons that, after Drona and Bhishma and the Suta's son had been overthrown, Shalya, O sire, would slay all the Parthas in battle. Cherishing that hope in his heart, and drawing comfort from it, O Bharata, thy son Duryodhana, relying in battle upon that mighty car-warrior, the ruler of the Madras, regarded himself as possessed of a protector. When after Karna's fall the Parthas had uttered leonine roars, a great fear, O king, had possessed the hearts of the Dhartarashtras. Assuring him duly, the valiant king of the Madras, having formed, O monarch, a grand array whose arrangements were auspicious in every respect, proceeded against the Parthas in battle. And the valiant king of the Madras proceeded, shaking his beautiful and exceedingly strong bow capable of imparting a great velocity to the shafts sped from it. And that mighty car-warrior was mounted upon the foremost of vehicles, having horses of the Sindhu breed yoked unto it. Riding upon his car, his driver made the vehicle look resplendent. Protected by that car, that hero, that brave crusher of foes (Shalya), stood, O monarch, dispelling the fears of thy sons. The king of the Madras, clad in mail, proceeded at the head of the array, accompanied by the brave Madrakas and the invincible sons of Karna. On the left was Kritavarma, surrounded by the Trigartas. On the right was Gautama (Kripa) with the Sakas and the Yavanas. In the rear was Ashvatthama surrounded by the Kambojas. In the centre was Duryodhana, protected by the foremost of the Kuru warriors. Surrounded by a large force of cavalry and other troops, Subala's son Shakuni, as also the mighty car-warrior Uluka, proceeded with the others. The mighty bowmen amongst the Pandavas, those chastisers of foes, dividing themselves, O monarch, into three bodies, rushed against thy troops. Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi and the mighty car-warrior Satyaki proceeded with great speed against the army of Shalya. Then king Yudhishthira, accompanied by his troops, rushed against Shalya alone, from desire of slaughtering him, O bull of Bharata's race. Arjuna, that slayer of large bands of foes, rushed with great speed against that great bowman Kritavarma and the Samsaptakas. Bhimasena and the great car-warriors among the Somakas rushed, O monarch, against Kripa, desirous of slaughtering their foes in battle. The two sons of Madri, accompanied by their troops, proceeded against Shakuni and the great car-warrior Uluka at the head of their forces. Similarly, thousands upon thousands of warriors of thy army, armed with diverse weapons and filled with rage, proceeded against the Pandavas in that battle.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'After the fall of the mighty bowmen Bhishma and Drona and the great car-warrior Karna, and after both the Kurus and the Pandavas had been reduced in numbers, and when, indeed, the Parthas, possessed of great prowess, became once more angry in battle, what, O Sanjaya, was the strength of each of the armies?' "Sanjaya said, 'Hear, O king, how we and the enemy both stood for battle on that occasion and what was then the strength of the two armies. 11,000 cars, O bull of Bharata's race, 10,700 elephants, and full 200,000 horses, and three millions of foot, composed the strength of thy army. 6,000 cars, 6,000 elephants, 10,000 horses, and one million of foot, O Bharata, were all that composed the remnant of the Pandava force in the battle. These, O bull of Bharata's race, encountered each other for battle. Having distributed their forces in this way, O monarch, ourselves, excited with wrath and inspired with desire of victory, proceeded against the Pandavas, having placed ourselves under the command of the ruler of the Madras. Similarly, the brave Pandavas, those tigers among men, desirous of victory, and the Pancalas possessed of great fame, came to battle. Even thus, O monarch, all those tigers among men, desirous of slaughtering their foes, encountered one another at dawn of day, O lord. Then commenced a fierce and terrible battle between thy troops and the enemy, the combatants being all engaged in striking and slaughtering one another.'" 9 "Sanjaya said, 'Then commenced the battle between the Kurus and the Srinjayas, O monarch, that was as fierce and awful as the battle between the gods and the Asuras. Men and crowds of cars and elephants, and elephant-warriors and horsemen by thousands, and steeds, all possessed of great prowess, encountered one another. The loud noise of rushing elephants of fearful forms was then heard there resembling the roars of the clouds in the welkin, in the season of rains. Some car-warriors, struck by elephants, were deprived of their cars. Routed by those infuriate animals other brave combatants ran on the field. Well-trained car-warriors, O Bharata, with their shafts, despatched large bodies of cavalry and the footmen that urged and protected the elephants, to the other world. Well-trained horsemen, O king, surrounding great car-warriors, careered on the field, striking and slaying the latter with spears and darts and swords. Some combatants armed with bows, encompassing great car-warriors, despatched them to Yama's abode, the many unitedly battling against individual ones. Other great car-warriors, encompassing elephants and foremost warriors of their own class, slew some mighty one amongst that fought on the field, careering all around. Similarly, O king, elephants, encompassing individual car-warriors excited with wrath and scattering showers of shafts, despatched them to the other world. Elephant-warrior rushing against elephant-warrior and car-warrior against car-warrior in that battle slew each other with darts and lances and cloth-yard shafts, O Bharata. Cars and elephants and horses, crushing foot-soldiers in the midst of battle, were seen to make confusion worse confounded. Adorned with yak-tails, steeds rushed on all sides, looking like the swans found on the plains at the foot of Himavat. They rushed with such speed that they seemed ready to devour the very Earth. The field, O monarch, indented with the hoofs of those steeds, looked beautiful like a beautiful woman bearing the marks of (her lover's) nails on her person. With the noise made by the tread of heroes, the wheels of cars, the shouts of foot-soldiers, the grunts of elephants, the peal of drums and other musical instruments, and the blare of conchs, the Earth began to resound as if with deafening peals of thunder. In consequence of twanging bows and flashing sabres and the glaring armour of the combatants, all became so confused there, that nothing could be distinctly marked. Invulnerable arms, lopped off from human bodies, and looking like the tusks of elephants, jumped up and writhed and moved furiously about. The sound made, O monarch, by heads falling on the field of battle, resembled that made by the falling fruits of palmyra trees. Strewn with those fallen heads that were crimson with blood, the Earth looked resplendent as if adorned with gold-coloured lotuses in their season. Indeed, with those lifeless heads with upturned eyes, that were exceedingly mangled (with shafts and other weapons), the field of battle, O king, looked resplendent as if strewn with full blown lotuses. With the fallen arms of the combatants, smeared with sandal and adorned with costly Keyuras, the earth looked bright as if strewn with the gorgeous poles set up in Indra's honour. The field of battle became covered with the thighs of kings, cut off in that battle and looking like the tapering trunks of elephants. Teeming with hundreds of headless trunks and strewn with umbrellas and yak-tails, that vast army looked beautiful like a flowering forest. Then, on the field of battle, O monarch, warriors careered fearlessly, their limbs bathed in blood and therefore looking like flowering Kinsukas. Elephants also, afflicted with arrows and lances, fell down here and there like broken clouds dropped from the skies. Elephant divisions, O monarch, slaughtered by high-souled warriors, dispersed in all directions like wind-tossed clouds. Those elephants, looking like clouds, fell down on the Earth, like mountains riven with thunder, O lord, on the occasion of the dissolution of the world at the end of the Yuga. Heaps upon heaps, looking like mountains, were seen, lying on the ground, of fallen steeds with their riders. A river appeared on the field of battle, flowing towards the other world. Blood formed its waters and cars its eddies. Standards formed its trees, and bones its pebbles. The arms (of combatants) were its alligators, bows its current, elephants its large rocks, and steeds its smaller ones. Fat and marrow formed its mire, umbrellas its swans, and maces its rafts. Abounding with armour and head-gears, banners constituted its beautiful trees. Teeming with wheels that formed its swarms of Chakravakas, it was covered with Trivenus and Dandas. Inspiring the brave with delight and enhancing the fears of the timid, that fierce river set in, whose shores abounded with Kurus and Srinjayas. Those brave warriors, with arms resembling spiked bludgeons, by the aid of their vehicles and animals serving the purposes of rafts and boats, crossed that awful river which ran towards the region of the dead. During the progress of that battle, O monarch, in which no consideration was shown by anybody for anyone, and which, fraught with awful destruction of the four kinds of forces, therefore, resembled the battle between the gods and the Asuras in days of old, some among the combatants, O scorcher of foes, loudly called upon their kinsmen and friends. Some, called upon by crying kinsmen, returned, afflicted with fear. During the progress of that fierce and awful battle, Arjuna and Bhimasena stupefied their foes. That vast host of thine, O ruler of men, thus slaughtered, swooned away on the field, like a woman under the influence of liquor. Having stupefied that army, Bhimasena and Dhananjaya blew their conchs and uttered leonine roars. As soon as they heard that loud peal, Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi, placing king Yudhishthira at their head, rushed against the ruler of the Madras. Exceedingly wonderful and terrible, O monarch, was the manner in which those heroes, unitedly and as separate bodies, then fought with Shalya. The two sons of Madri, endued with great activity, accomplished in weapons, and invincible in battle, proceeded with great speed against thy host, inspired with desire of victory. Then thy army, O bull of Bharata's race, mangled in diverse ways with shafts by the Pandavas eager for victory, began to fly away from the field. That host, thus struck and broken by firm bowmen, O monarch, fled away on all sides in the very sight of thy sons. Loud cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" O Bharata, arose from among thy warriors, while some illustrious Kshatriyas among the routed combatants, desirous of victory, cried out saying, "Stop, stop!" For all that, those troops of thine, broken by the Pandavas, fled away, deserting on the field their dear sons and brothers and maternal, uncles and sister's sons and relatives by marriage and other kinsmen. Urging their steeds and elephants to greater speed, thousands of warriors fled away, O bull of Bharata's race, bent only upon their own safety.'" 10 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the army broken, the valiant king of the Madras, addressed his driver, saying, "Quickly urge these steeds endued with the fleetness of thought. Yonder stays king Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, looking resplendent with the umbrella held over his head. Take me thither with speed, O driver, and witness my might. The Parthas are unable to stand before me in battle." Thus addressed, the driver of the Madra king proceeded to that spot where stood king Yudhishthira the just of true aim. Shalya fell suddenly upon the mighty host of the Pandavas. Alone, he checked it like the continent checking the surging sea. Indeed, the large force of the Pandavas, coming against Shalya, O sire, stood still in that battle, like the rushing sea upon encountering a mountain. Beholding the ruler of the Madras standing for battle on the field, the Kauravas returned, making death their goal. After they had returned, O king, and separately taken up their positions in well-formed array, an awful battle set in, in which blood flowed freely like water. "'The invincible Nakula encountered Chitrasena. These two heroes, both of whom were excellent bowmen, approaching, drenched each other with showers of arrows in that battle, like two pouring clouds risen in the welkin on the south and the north. I could not mark any difference between the son of Pandu and his antagonist. Both of them were accomplished in weapons, both endued with might, and both conversant with the practices of car-warriors. Each bent upon slaying the other, they carefully looked for each other's lapses. Then Chitrasena, O monarch, with a broad-headed shaft, well-tempered and sharp, cut off Nakula's bow at the handle. Fearlessly then the son of Karna struck the bowless Nakula at the forehead with three shafts equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone. With a few other keen arrows he then despatched Nakula's steeds to Yama's abode. Next, he felled both the standard and the driver of his antagonist, each with three arrows. With those three arrows sped from the arms of his foe sticking to his fore-head, Nakula, O king, looked beautiful like a mountain with three crests. Deprived of his bow and his cars, the brave Nakula, taking up a sword, jumped down from his vehicle like a lion from a mountain-summit. As, however, he rushed on foot, his antagonist poured a shower of arrows upon him. Possessed of active prowess, Nakula received that arrowy shower on his shield. Getting at the car then of Chitrasena, the mighty-armed hero, the son of Pandu, conversant with all modes of warfare and incapable of being tired with exertion, ascended it in the very sight of all the troops. The son of Pandu then cut off from Chitrasena's trunk his diadem-decked head adorned with ear-rings, and graced with a beautiful nose and a pair of large eyes. At this, Chitrasena, endued with the splendour of the sun, fell down on the terrace of his car. Beholding Chitrasena slain, all the great car-warriors there uttered loud cries of praise and many leonine roars. Meanwhile, the two sons of Karna, Sushena and Satyasena, both of whom were great car-warriors, beholding their brother slain, shot showers of keen shafts. Those foremost of car-warriors rushed with speed against the son of Pandu like a couple of tigers, O king, in the deep forest rushing against an elephant from desire of slaying him. Both of them poured their keen shafts upon the mighty car-warrior Nakula. Indeed, as they poured those shafts, they resembled two masses of clouds pouring rain in torrents. Though pierced with arrows all over, the valiant and heroic son of Pandu cheerfully took up another bow after ascending on another car, and stood in battle like the Destroyer himself in rage. Then those two brothers, O monarch, with their straight shafts, cut off Nakula's car into fragments. Then Nakula, laughing, smote the four steeds of Satyasena with four whetted and keen shafts in that encounter. Aiming a long shaft equipped with wings of gold, the son of Pandu then cut off, O monarch, the bow of Satyasena. At this, the latter, mounting on another car and taking up another bow, as also his brother Sushena, rushed against the son of Pandu. The valiant son of Madri fearlessly pierced each of them, O monarch, with couple of shafts at the van of battle. Then the mighty car-warrior Sushena, filled with wrath, cut off in that battle, laughing the while, the formidable bow of Pandu's son with a razor-headed arrow. Then Nakula, insensate with rage, took up another bow and pierced Sushena with five arrows and struck his standard with one. Without losing a moment, he then cut off the bow and the leathern fence of Satyasena also, O sire, at which all the troops there uttered a loud shout. Satyasena, taking up another foe-slaying bow that was capable of bearing a great strain, shrouded the son of Pandu with arrows from every side. Baffling those arrows, Nakula, that slayer of hostile heroes, pierced each of his antagonists with a couple of shafts. Each of the latter separately pierced the son of Pandu in return with many straight-coursing shafts. Next they pierced Nakula's driver also with many keen shafts. The valiant Satyasena then, endued with great lightness of hand, cut off without his brother's help the shafts of Nakula's car and his bow with a couple of arrows. The Atiratha Nakula, however, staying on his car, took up a dart equipped with a golden handle and a very keen point, and steeped in oil and exceedingly bright. It resembled, O lord, a she-snake of virulent poison, frequently darting out her tongue. Raising that weapon he hurled it at Satyasena in that encounter. That dart, O king, pierced the heart of Satyasena in that battle and reduced it into a hundred fragments. Deprived of his senses and life, he fell down upon the Earth from his car. Beholding his brother slain, Sushena, insensate with rage, suddenly made Nakula carless in that battle. Without losing a moment, he poured his arrows over the son of Pandu fighting on foot. Seeing Nakula carless, the mighty car-warrior Sutasoma, the son of Draupadi, rushed to that spot for rescuing his sire in battle. Mounting then upon the car of Sutasoma, Nakula, that hero of Bharata's race, looked beautiful like a lion upon a mountain. Then taking up another bow, he fought with Sushena. Those two great car-warriors, approaching each other, and shooting showers of arrows, endeavoured to encompass each other's destruction. Then Sushena, filled with rage, struck the son of Pandu with three shafts and Sutasoma with twenty in the arms and the chest. At this, the impetuous Nakula, O monarch, that slayer of hostile heroes, covered all the points of the compass with arrows. Then taking up a sharp shaft endued with great energy and equipped with a semi-circular head, Nakula sped it with great force at Karna's son in that battle. With that arrow, O best of kings, the son of Pandu cut off from Sushena's trunk the latter's head in the very sight of all the troops. That feat seemed exceedingly wonderful. Thus slain by the illustrious Nakula, Karna's son fell down like a lofty tree on the bank of a river thrown down by the current of the stream. Beholding the slaughter of Karna's sons and the prowess of Nakula, thy army, O bull of Bharata's race, fled away in fear. Their commander, however, the brave and valiant ruler of the Madras, that chastiser of foes, then protected, O monarch, those troops in that battle. Rallying his host, O king, Shalya stood fearlessly in battle, uttering loud leonine roars and causing his bow to twang fiercely. Then thy troops, O king, protected in battle by that firm bowman, cheerfully proceeded against the foe once more from every side. Those high-souled warriors, surrounding that great bowman, the ruler of the Madras, stood, O king, desirous of battling on every side. Then Satyaki, and Bhimasena, and those two Pandavas, the twin sons of Madri, placing that chastiser of foes and abode of modesty, Yudhishthira, at their head, and surrounding him on all sides in that battle, uttered leonine roars. And those heroes also caused a loud whizz with the arrows they shot and frequently indulged in diverse kinds of shouts. Smilingly, all thy warriors, filled with rage, speedily encompassed the ruler of the Madras and stood from desire of battle. Then commenced a battle, inspiring the timid with fear, between thy soldiers and the enemy, both of whom made death their goal. That battle between fearless combatants, enhancing the population of Yama's kingdom, resembled, O monarch, that between the gods and the Asuras in days of yore. Then the ape-bannered son of Pandu, O king, having slaughtered the Samsaptakas in battle, rushed against that portion of the Kaurava army. Smiling, all the Pandavas, headed by Dhrishtadyumna, rushed against the same division, shooting showers of keen arrows. Overwhelmed by the Pandavas, the Kaurava host became stupefied. Indeed, those divisions then could not discern the cardinal point from the subsidiary points of the compass. Covered with keen arrows sped by the Pandavas, the Kaurava army, deprived of its foremost warriors, wavered and broke on all sides. Indeed, O Kaurava, that host of thine began to be slaughtered by the mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas. Similarly, the Pandava host, O king, began to be slaughtered in hundreds and thousands in that battle by thy sons on every side with their arrows. While the two armies, exceedingly excited, were thus slaughtering each other, they became much agitated like two streams in the season of rains. During the progress of that dreadful battle, O monarch, a great fear entered the hearts of thy warriors as also those of the Pandavas.'" 11 "Sanjaya said, 'When the troops, slaughtered by one another, were thus agitated, when many of the warriors fled away and the elephants began to utter loud cries, when the foot-soldiers in that dreadful battle began to shout and wail aloud, when the steeds, O king, ran in diverse directions, when the carnage became awful, when a terrible destruction set in of all embodied creatures, when weapons of various kinds fell or clashed with one another, when cars and elephants began to be mangled together, when heroes felt great delight and cowards felt their fears enhanced, when combatants encountered one another from desire of slaughter, on that awful occasion of the destruction of life, during the progress of that dreadful sport, that is, of that awful battle that enhanced the population of Yama's kingdom, the Pandavas slaughtered thy troops with keen shafts, and, after the same manner, thy troops slew those of the Pandavas. "'During that battle inspiring the timid with terror, indeed, during the progress of the battle as it was fought on that morning about the hour of sunrise, the Pandava heroes of good aim, protected by the high-souled Yudhishthira, fought with thy forces, making death itself their goal. The Kuru army, O thou of the race of Kuru, encountering the proud Pandavas endued with great strength, skilled in smiting, and possessed of sureness of aim, became weakened and agitated like a herd of she-deer frightened at a forest conflagration. "'Beholding that army weakened and helpless like a cow sunk in mire, Shalya, desirous of rescuing it, proceeded against the Pandava army. Filled with rage, the ruler of the Madras, taking up an excellent bow, rushed for battle against the Pandava foes. The Pandavas also, O monarch, in that encounter, inspired with desire of victory, proceeded against the ruler of the Madras and pierced him with keen shafts. Then the ruler of the Madras, possessed of great strength, afflicted that host with showers of keen arrows in the very sight of king Yudhishthira the just. "'At that time diverse portents appeared to the view. The Earth herself, with her mountains, trembled, making a loud noise. Meteors, with keen points bright as those of lances equipped with handles, piercing the air, fell upon the Earth from the firmament. Deer and buffaloes and birds, O monarch, in large numbers, placed thy army to their right, O king. The planets Venus and Mars, in conjunction with Mercury, appeared at the rear of the Pandavas and to the front of all the (Kaurava) lords of Earth. Blazing flames seemed to issue from the points of weapons, dazzling the eyes (of the warriors). Crows and owls in large numbers perched upon the heads of the combatants and on the tops of their standards. Then a fierce battle took place between the Kaurava and the Pandava combatants, assembled together in large bodies. Then, O king, the Kauravas, mustering all their divisions, rushed against the Pandava army. Of soul incapable of being depressed, Shalya then poured dense showers of arrows on Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti like the thousand-eyed Indra pouring rain in torrents. Possessed of great strength, he pierced Bhimasena, and the five sons of Draupadi and Dhristadyumna, the two sons of Madri by Pandu, and the grandson of Sini, and Shikhandi also, each with ten arrows equipped with wings of gold and whetted on stone. Indeed, he began to pour his arrows like Maghavat (Indra) pouring rain at the close of the summer season. Then the Prabhadrakas, O king, and the Somakas, were seen felled or falling by thousands, in consequence of Shalya's arrows. Multitudinous as swarms of bees or flights of locusts, the shafts of Shalya were seen to fall like thunderbolts from the clouds. Elephants and steeds and foot-soldiers and car-warriors, afflicted with Shalya's arrows, fell down or wandered or uttered loud wails. Infuriate with rage and prowess, the ruler of the Madras shrouded his foes in that battle like Destroyer at the end of the Yuga. The mighty ruler of the Madras began to roar aloud like the clouds. The Pandava army, thus slaughtered by Shalya, ran towards Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti (for protection). Possessed of great lightness of hand, Shalya, having in that battle crushed them with whetted arrows, began to afflict Yudhishthira with a dense shower of shafts. Beholding Shalya impetuously rushing towards him with horsemen and foot-soldiers, king Yudhishthira, filled with wrath, checked him with keen shafts, even as an infuriate elephant is checked with iron-hooks. Then Shalya sped a terrible arrow at Yudhishthira that resembled a snake of virulent poison. Piercing through the high-souled son of Kunti, that arrow quickly fell down upon the Earth. Then Vrikodara, filled with wrath, pierced Shalya with seven arrows, and Sahadeva pierced him with five, and Nakula with ten. The (five) sons of Draupadi poured upon that foe-slaying hero, the impetuous Artayani (Shalya), showers of arrows like a mass of clouds pouring rain upon a mountain. Beholding Shalya struck by the Parthas on every side, both Kritavarma and Kripa rushed in wrath towards that spot. Uluka also of mighty energy, and Shakuni the son of Subala, and the mighty car-warrior Ashvatthama with smiles on his lips, and all thy sons protected Shalya by every means in that battle. Piercing Bhimasena with three arrows, Kritavarma, shooting a dense shower of shafts, checked that warrior who then seemed to be the embodiment of wrath. Excited with rage, Kripa struck Dhrishtadyumna with many arrows. Shakuni proceeded against the sons of Draupadi, and Ashvatthama against the twins. That foremost of warriors, Duryodhana, possessed of fierce energy, proceeded, in that battle, against Keshava and Arjuna, and endued with might, he struck them both with many arrows. Thus hundreds of combats, O monarch, that were fierce and beautiful, took place between thy men and the enemy, on diverse parts of the field. The chief of the Bhojas then slew the brown steeds of Bhimasena's car in that encounter. The steedless son of Pandu, alighting from his car, began to fight with his mace, like the Destroyer himself with his uplifted bludgeon. The ruler of the Madras then slew the steeds of Sahadeva before his eyes. Then Sahadeva slew Shalya's son with his sword. The preceptor Gautama (Kripa) once more fearlessly fought with Dhrishtadyumna, both exerting themselves with great care. The preceptor's son Ashvatthama, without much wrath and as if smiling in that battle, pierced each of the five heroic sons of Draupadi with ten arrows. Once more the steeds of Bhimasena were slain in that battle. The steedless son of Pandu, quickly alighting from his car, took up his mace like the Destroyer taking his bludgeon. Excited with wrath, that mighty hero crushed the steeds and the car of Kritavarma. Jumping down from his vehicle, Kritavarma then fled away. Shalya also, excited with rage, O king, slaughtered many Somakas and Pandavas, and once more afflicted Yudhishthira with many keen shafts. Then the valiant Bhima, biting his nether lip, and infuriate with rage, took up his mace in that battle, and aimed it at Shalya for the latter's destruction. Resembling the very bludgeon of Yama, impending (upon the head of the foe) like kala-ratri (Death Night), exceedingly destructive of the lives of elephants and steeds and human beings, twined round with cloth of gold, looking like a blazing meteor, equipped with a sling, fierce as a she-snake, hard as thunder, and made wholly of iron, smeared with sandal-paste and other unguents like a desirable lady, smutted with marrow and fat and blood, resembling the very tongue of Yama, producing shrill sounds in consequence of the bells attached to it, like unto the thunder of Indra, resembling in shape a snake of virulent poison just freed from its slough, drenched with the juicy secretions of elephants, inspiring hostile troops with terror and friendly troops with joy, celebrated in the world of men, and capable of riving mountain summits, that mace, with which the mighty son of Kunti had in Kailasa challenged the enraged Lord of Alaka, the friend of Maheshvara, that weapon with which Bhima, though resisted by many, had in wrath slain a large number of proud Guhyakas endued with powers of illusion on the breasts of Gandhamadana for the sake of procuring Mandara flowers for doing what was agreeable to Draupadi, uplifting that mace which was rich with diamonds and jewels and gems and possessed of eight sides and celebrated as Indra's thunder, the mighty-armed son of Pandu now rushed against Shalya. With that mace of awful sound, Bhima, skilled in battle, crushed the four steeds of Shalya that were possessed of great fleetness. Then the heroic Shalya, excited with wrath in that battle, hurled a lance at the broad chest of Bhima and uttered a loud shout. That lance, piercing through the armour of Pandu's son, presented into his body. Vrikodara, however, fearlessly plucking out the weapon, pierced therewith the driver of Shalya in the chest. His vitals pierced, the driver, vomiting blood, fell down with agitated heart. At this, the ruler of the Madras came down from his car and cheerlessly gazed at Bhima. Beholding his own feat thus counteracted, Shalya became filled with wonder. Of tranquil soul, the ruler of the Madras took up his mace and began to cast his glances upon his foe. Beholding that terrible feat of his in battle, the Parthas, with cheerful hearts, worshipped Bhima who was incapable of being tired with exertion.'" 12 "Sanjaya said, 'Seeing his driver fallen, Shalya, O king, quickly took up his mace made wholly of iron and stood immovable as a bull. Bhima, however, armed with his mighty mace, rushed impetuously towards Shalya who then looked like the blazing Yuga-fire, or the Destroyer armed with the noose, or the Kailasa mountain with its formidable crest, or Vasava with his thunder, or Mahadeva with his trident, or an infuriate elephant in the forest. At that time the blare of thousands of conchs and trumpets and loud leonine roars arose there, enhancing the delight of heroes. The combatants of both armies, looking at those two foremost of warriors from every side, applauded them both, saying, "Excellent, Excellent! Save the ruler of the Madras, or Rama, that delighter of the Yadus, there is none else that can venture to endure the impetuosity of Bhima in battle. Similarly, save Bhima, there is no other warrior that can venture to endure the force of the mace of the illustrious king of the Madras in battle." Those two combatants then, Vrikodara and the ruler of the Madras, roaring like bulls, careered in circles, frequently jumping up in the air. In that encounter between those two lions among men, no difference could be noticed between them either in respect of their careering in circles or of their wielding the mace. The mace of Shalya, wrapped round with a resplendent cloth of gold that looked like a sheet of fire, inspired the spectators with dread. Similarly, the mace of the high-souled Bhima, as the latter careered in circles, looked like lightning in the midst of the clouds. Struck by the ruler of the Madras with his mace, the mace of Bhima, O king, produced sparks of fire in the welkin which thereupon seemed to be ablaze. Similarly, struck by Bhima with his mace, the mace of Shalya produced a shower of blazing coals which seemed exceedingly wonderful. Like two gigantic elephants striking each other with their tusks, or two huge bulls striking each other with their horns, those two heroes began to strike each other with their foremost of maces, like a couple of combatants striking each other with iron bound clubs. Their limbs being struck with each other's mace, they soon became bathed in blood and looked handsomer in consequence like two flowering Kinsukas. Struck by the ruler of the Madras on both his left and right, the mighty-armed Bhimasena stood immovable like a mountain. Similarly, though struck repeatedly with the force of Bhima's mace, Shalya, O king, moved not, like a mountain assailed by an elephant with his tusks. The noise made by the blows of the maces of those two lions among men was heard on all sides like successive peals of thunder. Having ceased for a moment, those two warriors of great energy once more began, with uplifted maces, to career in closer circles. Once more the clash took place between those two warriors of superhuman feats, each having advanced towards the other by eight steps, and each assailing the other with his uplifted iron club. Then, wishing to get at each other, they once more careered in circles. Both accomplished (in the use of the mace) they began to display their superiority of skill. Uplifting their terrible weapons, they then again struck each other like mountains striking each other with their crests at the time of an earthquake. Exceedingly crushed with each other's mace in consequence of each other's strength, both those heroes fell down at the same time like a couple of poles set up for Indra's worship. The brave combatants then of both armies, at that sight, uttered cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" Struck with great force in their vital limbs, both of them had become exceedingly agitated. Then the mighty Kripa, taking up Shalya, that bull among the Madras, on his own car, quickly bore him away from the field of battle. Within, however, the twinkling of an eye, Bhimasena, rising up, and still reeling as if drunk, challenged, with uplifted mace, the ruler of the Madras. Then the heroic warriors of thy army, armed with diverse weapons, fought with the Pandavas, causing diverse musical instruments to be blown and beat. With uplifted arms and weapons and making a loud noise, O monarch, thy warriors headed by Duryodhana rushed against the Pandavas. Beholding the Kaurava host, the sons of Pandu, with leonine roars, rushed against those warriors headed by Duryodhana. Then thy son, O bull of Bharata's race, singling out Chekitana amongst those rushing heroes, pierced him deeply with a lance in the chest. Thus assailed by thy son, Chekitana fell down on the terrace of his car, covered with blood, and overcome with a deep swoon. Beholding Chekitana slain, the great car-warriors among the Pandavas incessantly poured their arrowy showers (upon the Kauravas). Indeed, the Pandavas, inspired with desire of victory, O monarch, careered beautifully on all sides amongst thy divisions. Kripa, and Kritavarma, and the mighty son of Subala, placing the ruler of the Madras before them, fought with king Yudhishthira the just. Duryodhana, O monarch, fought with Dhrishtadyumna, the slayer of Bharadwaja's son, that hero endued with abundant energy and prowess. 3,000 cars, O king, despatched by thy son and headed by Drona's son, battled with Vijaya (Arjuna). All those combatants, O king, had firmly resolved to win victory and had cast off fear with life itself. Indeed, O king, thy warriors penetrated into the midst of the Pandava army like swans into a large lake. A fierce battle then took place between the Kurus and the Pandavas, the combatants being actuated with the desire of slaughtering one another and deriving great pleasure from giving and receiving blows. During the progress, O king, of that battle which was destructive of great heroes, an earthly dust, terrible to behold, was raised by the wind. From only the names we heard (of the Pandava warriors) that were uttered in course of that battle and from those (of the Kuru warriors) that were uttered by the Pandavas, we knew the combatants that fought with one another fearlessly. That dust, however, O tiger among men, was soon dispelled by the blood that was shed, and all the points of the compass became once more clear when that dusty darkness was driven away. Indeed, during the progress of that terrible and awful battle, no one among either thy warriors or those of the foe, turned his back. Desirous of attaining to the regions of Brahman and longing for victory by fair fight, the combatants displayed their prowess, inspired with the hope of heaven. For paying off the debt they owed to their masters on account of the sustenance granted by the latter, or firmly resolved to accomplish the objects of their friends and allies, the warriors, with hearts fixed on heaven, fought with one another on that occasion. Shooting and hurling weapons of diverse kinds, great car-warriors roared at or smote one another. "Slay, pierce, seize, strike, cut off!" These were the words that were heard in that battle, uttered by the warriors and those of the foe. Then Shalya, O monarch, desirous of slaying him, pierced king Yudhishthira the just, that mighty car-warrior with many sharp arrows. Conversant with what are the vital limbs of the body, the son of Pritha, however, O monarch, with the greatest ease, struck the ruler of the Madras with four and ten cloth-yard shafts, aiming at the latter's vital limbs. Resisting the son of Pandu with his shafts, Shalya of great fame, filled with rage and desirous of slaying his adversary, pierced him in that battle with innumerable arrows equipped with Kanka feathers. Once more, O monarch, he struck Yudhishthira with a straight shaft in the very sight of all the troops. King Yudhishthira the just, possessed of great fame and filled with rage, pierced the ruler of the Madras with many keen arrows equipped with feathers of Kankas and peacocks. The mighty car-warrior then pierced Candrasena with seventy arrows and Shalya's driver with nine, and Drumasena with four and sixty. When the two protectors of his car-wheels were (thus) slain by the high-souled son of Pandu, Shalya, O king, slew five and twenty warriors among the Cedis. And he pierced Satyaki with five and twenty keen arrows, and Bhimasena with seven, and the two sons of Madri with a hundred, in that battle. While Shalya was thus careering in that battle, that best of kings, the son of Pritha, sped at him many shafts that resembled snakes of virulent poison. With a broad-headed arrow, Yudhishthira the son of Kunti then cut off from his car the standard top of his adversary as the latter stood in his front. We saw the standard of Shalya, which was thus cut off by the son of Pandu in that great battle, fall down like a riven mountain summit. Seeing his standard fallen and observing the son of Pandu standing before him, the ruler of the Madras became filled with rage and shot showers of shafts. That bull amongst Kshatriyas, Shalya of immeasurable soul, poured over the Kshatriyas in that battle dense showers of arrows like the deity of the clouds pouring torrents of rain. Piercing Satyaki and Bhimasena and the twin sons of Madri by Pandu, each with five arrows, he afflicted Yudhishthira greatly. We then, O monarch, beheld a net of arrows spread before the chest of Pandu's son like a mass of risen clouds. The mighty car-warrior Shalya, in that battle, filled with rage, shrouded Yudhishthira with straight shafts. At this, king Yudhishthira afflicted with those showers of shafts, felt himself deprived of his prowess, even as the Asura Jambha had become before the slayer of Vritra.'" 13 "Sanjaya said, 'When king Yudhishthira the just was thus afflicted by the ruler of Madras, Satyaki and Bhimasena and the two sons of Madri by Pandu, encompassing Shalya with their cars, began to afflict him in that battle. Beholding the unsupported Shalya thus afflicted by those great car-warriors (and seeing him successfully repel those attacks), loud sounds of applause were heard, and the Siddhas (who witnessed the encounter) became filled with delight. The ascetics, assembled together (for witnessing the battle), declared it to be wonderful. Then Bhimasena in that encounter, having pierced Shalya who had become (as his name implied) an irresistible dart in prowess, with one arrow, next pierced him with seven. Satyaki, desirous of rescuing the son of Dharma, pierced Shalya with a hundred arrows and uttered a loud leonine roar. Nakula pierced him with five arrows, and Sahadeva with seven; the latter then once more pierced him with as many. The heroic ruler of the Madras, struggling carefully in that battle, thus afflicted by those mighty car-warriors, drew a formidable bow capable of bearing a great strain and of imparting great force to the shafts sped from it, and pierced Satyaki, O sire, with five and twenty shafts and Bhima with three and seventy and Nakula with seven. Then cutting off with a broad-headed arrow the bow, with shaft fixed on the string of Sahadeva, he pierced Sahadeva himself, in that battle, with three and seventy shafts. Sahadeva then, stringing another bow, pierced his maternal uncle of great splendour with five shafts that resembled snakes of virulent poison or blazing fire. Filled with great rage, he then struck his adversary's driver with a straight shaft in that battle and then Shalya himself once more with three. Then Bhimasena pierced the ruler of the Madras with seventy arrows, and Satyaki pierced him with nine, and king Yudhishthira with sixty. Thus pierced, O monarch, by those mighty car-warriors, blood began to flow from Shalya's body, like crimson streams, running down the breast of a mountain of red chalk. Shalya, however, quickly pierced in return each of those great bowmen with five arrows, O king, which feat seemed exceedingly wonderful. With another broad-headed arrow, that mighty car-warrior then, O sire, cut off the stringed bow of Dharma's son in that encounter. Taking up another bow, that great car-warrior, the son of Dharma, covered Shalya, his steeds, and driver, and standard, and car, with many arrows. Thus shrouded in that battle by the son of Dharma with his shafts, Shalya struck the former with ten keen arrows. Then Satyaki, filled with rage upon beholding the son of Dharma thus afflicted with shafts, checked the heroic ruler of the Madras with clouds of arrows. At this, Shalya cut off with a razor-faced arrow the formidable bow of Satyaki, and pierced each of the other Pandava warriors with three arrows. Filled with rage, O monarch, Satyaki of unbaffled prowess then hurled at Shalya a lance equipped with a golden staff and decked with many jewels and gems. Bhimasena sped at him a cloth-yard shaft that looked like a blazing snake; Nakula hurled at him a dart, Sahadeva an excellent mace, and the son of Dharma a Sataghni impelled by the desire of despatching him. The ruler of the Madras, however, quickly baffled in that battle all those weapons, hurled from the arms of those five warriors at him, as these coursed towards his car. With a number of broad-headed arrows Shalya cut off the lance hurled by Satyaki. Possessed of valour and great lightness of hand, he cut off into two fragments the gold-decked shaft sped at him by Bhima. He then resisted with clouds of shafts the terrible dart, equipped with a golden handle, that Nakula had sped at him and the mace also that Sahadeva had thrown. With a couple of other arrows, O Bharata, he cut off the Sataghni sped at him by the king, in the very sight of the sons of Pandu, and uttered a loud leonine roar. The grandson of Sini, however, could not endure the defeat of his weapon in that battle. Insensate with rage, Satyaki took up another bow and pierced the ruler of the Madras with two shafts and his driver with three. At this, Shalya, O monarch, excited with rage, deeply pierced all of them with ten arrows, like persons piercing mighty elephants with sharp-pointed lances. Thus checked in that battle by the ruler of the Madras, O Bharata, those slayers of foes became unable to stay in front of Shalya. King Duryodhana, beholding the prowess of Shalya, regarded the Pandavas, the Pancalas, and the Srinjayas as already slain. Then, O king, the mighty-armed Bhimasena, possessed of great prowess and mentally resolved to cast off his life-breaths, encountered the ruler of the Madras. Nakula and Sahadeva and Satyaki of great might, encompassing Shalya, shot their arrows at him from every side. Though encompassed by those four great bowmen and mighty car-warriors among the Pandavas, the valiant ruler of the Madras still fought with them. Then, O king, the royal son of Dharma, in that dreadful battle, quickly cut off with a razor-headed arrow one of the protectors of Shalya's car-wheels. When that brave and mighty car-warrior, that protector of Shalya's car-wheel, was thus slain, Shalya of great strength covered the Pandava troops with showers of arrows. Beholding his troops shrouded with arrows, O monarch, in that battle, king Yudhishthira the just began to reflect in this strain, "Verily, how shall those grave words of Madhava become true? I hope, the rider of the Madras, excited with rage, will not annihilate my army in battle." Then the Pandavas, O elder brother of Pandu (Dhritarashtra), with cars and elephants and steeds, approached the ruler of the Madras and began to afflict him from every side. Like the wind dispersing mighty masses of clouds, the king of the Madras, in that battle, dispersed that risen shower of arrows and diverse other kinds of weapons in profusion. We then beheld the downpour of gold-winged arrows shot by Shalya coursing through the welkin like a flight of locusts. Indeed, those arrows shot by the ruler of the Madras from the van of battle were seen to fall like swarms of birds. With the gold-decked shafts that issued from the bow of the Madra king, the welkin, O monarch, became so filled that there was not an inch of empty space. When a thick gloom appeared, caused by the arrows shot by the mighty ruler of the Madras owing to his extreme lightness of hands in that dreadful battle, and when they beheld the vast host of the Pandavas thus agitated by that hero, the gods and the Gandharvas became filled with great wonder. Afflicting with vigour all the Pandava warriors with his shafts from every side, O sire, Shalya shrouded king Yudhishthira the just and roared repeatedly like a lion. The mighty car-warriors of the Pandavas, thus shrouded by Shalya in that battle, became unable to proceed against that great hero for fighting with him. Those, however, amongst the Pandavas, that had Bhimasena at their head and that were led by king Yudhishthira the just, did not fly away from that ornament of battle, the brave Shalya.'" 14 "Sanjaya said, 'Meanwhile Arjuna, in that battle, pierced with many arrows by the son of Drona as also by the latter's followers, the heroic and mighty car-warriors among the Trigartas, pierced Drona's son in return with three shafts, and each of the other warriors with two. Once again, the mighty-armed Dhananjaya covered his enemies with showers of shafts. Though struck with keen arrows and though they looked like porcupines in consequence of those arrows sticking to their limbs, still thy troops, O bull of Bharata's race, fled not from Partha in that battle. With Drona's son at their head, they encompassed that mighty car-warrior and fought with him, shooting showers of shafts. The gold-decked arrows, O king, shot by them, speedily filled the terrace of Arjuna's car. Beholding those two great bowmen, those two foremost of all warriors, the two Krishnas, covered with arrows, those invincible (Kaurava) combatants became filled with delight. Indeed, at that time, the Kuvara, the wheels, the shaft, the traces, the yoke, and the Anukarsha, O lord, of Arjuna's car, became entirely enveloped with arrows. The like of what thy warriors then did unto Partha had never before, O king, been either seen or heard. That car looked resplendent with those keen arrows of beautiful wings like a celestial vehicle blazing with hundreds of torches dropped on the Earth. Then Arjuna, O monarch, covered that hostile division with showers of straight shafts like a cloud pouring torrents of rain on a mountain. Struck in that battle with arrows inscribed with Partha's name, those warriors, beholding that state of things, regarded the field of battle to be full of Parthas. Then the Partha-fire, having for its wonderful flames and the loud twang of Gandiva for the wind that fanned it, began to consume the fuel constituted by thy troops. Then, O Bharata, heaps of fallen wheels and yokes, of quivers, of banners and standards, with the vehicles themselves that bore them, of shafts and Anukarshas and Trivenus, of axles and traces and goads, of heads of warriors decked with earrings and headgears, of arms, O monarch, and thighs in thousands, of umbrellas along with fans, and of diadems and crowns, were seen along the tracks of Partha's car. Indeed, along the track of the angry Partha's car, O monarch, the ground, miry with blood, became impassable, O chief of the Bharatas, like the sporting ground of Rudra. The scene inspired the timid with fear and the brave with delight. Having destroyed 2,000 cars with their fences, that scorcher of foes, Partha, looked like a smokeless fire with blazing flames. Indeed, even as the illustrious Agni when he blazes forth (at the end of the Yuga) for destroying the mobile and the immobile universe, even so looked, O king, the mighty car-warrior Partha. Beholding the prowess of Pandu's son in that battle, the son of Drona, on his car equipped with many banners, endeavoured to check him. Those two tigers among men, both having white steeds yoked unto their vehicles and both regarded as the foremost of car-warriors, quickly encountered each other, each desirous of slaying the other. The arrowy showers shot by both became exceedingly terrible and were as dense, O bull of Bharata's race, as the torrents of rain poured by two masses of clouds at the close of summer. Each challenging the other, those two warriors mangled each other with straight shafts in that battle, like a couple of bulls tearing each other with their horns. The battle between them, O king, was fought equally for a long while. The clash of weapons became terrific. The son of Drona then, O Bharata, pierced Arjuna with a dozen gold-winged arrows of great energy and Vasudeva with ten. Having shown for a short while some regard for the preceptor's son in that great battle, Vibhatsu then, smiling the while, stretched his bow Gandiva with force. Soon, however, the mighty car-warrior Savyasaci (Arjuna) made his adversary steedless and driverless and carless, and without putting forth much strength pierced him with three arrows. Staying on that steedless car, Drona's son, smiling the while, hurled at the son of Pandu a heavy mallet that looked like a dreadful mace with iron spikes. Beholding that weapon, which was decked with cloth of gold, coursing towards him, the heroic Partha, that slayer of foes, cut it off into seven fragments. Seeing his mallet cut off, Drona's son of great wrath took up a terrible mace equipped with iron spikes and looking like a mountain summit. Accomplished in battle, the son of Drona hurled it then at Partha. Beholding that spiked mace coursing towards him like the Destroyer himself in rage, Pandu's son Arjuna quickly cut it off with five excellent shafts. Cut off with Partha's shafts in that great battle, that weapon fell down on the Earth, riving the hearts, as it were, O Bharata, of the (hostile) kings. The son of Pandu then pierced Drona's son with three other shafts. Though deeply pierced by the mighty Partha, Drona's son, however, of great might, relying upon his own manliness, showed no sign of fear or agitation. That great car-warrior, the son of Drona, then, O king, shrouded Suratha (the Pancala) with showers of shafts before the eyes of all the Kshatriyas. At this, Suratha, that great car-warrior among the Pancalas, in that battle, riding upon his car whose rattle was as deep as the roar of the clouds rushed against the son of Drona. Drawing his foremost of bows, firm and capable of bearing a great strain, the Pancala hero covered Ashvatthama with arrows that resembled flames of fire or snakes of virulent poison. Seeing the great car-warrior Suratha rushing towards him in wrath, the son of Drona became filled with rage like a snake struck with a stick. Furrowing his brow into three lines, and licking the corners of his mouth with his tongue, he looked at Suratha in rage and then rubbed his bow-string and sped a keen cloth-yard shaft that resembled the fatal rod of Death. Endued with great speed, that shaft pierced the heart of Suratha and passing out entered the Earth, riving her through, like the thunderbolt of Shakra hurled from the sky. Struck with that shaft, Suratha fell down on the Earth like a mountain summit riven with thunder. After the fall of that hero, the valiant son of Drona, that foremost of car-warriors speedily mounted upon the vehicle of his slain foe. Then, O monarch, that warrior, invincible in battle, the son of Drona, well-equipped with armour and weapons, and supported by the Samsaptakas, fought with Arjuna. That battle, at the hour of noon, between one and the many, enhancing the population of Yama's domains, became exceedingly fierce. Wonderful was the sight that we then beheld, for, noticing the prowess of all those combatants, Arjuna, alone and unsupported, fought with his foes at the same time. The encounter was exceedingly fierce that thus took place between Arjuna and his enemies, resembling that between Indra, in days of yore, and the vast host of the Asuras.'" 15 "Sanjaya said, 'Duryodhana, O king, and Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Prishata, fought a fierce battle, using arrows and darts in profusion. Both of them, O monarch, shot showers of arrows like showers of rain poured by the clouds in the rainy season. The (Kuru) king, having pierced with five arrows the slayer of Drona, Prishata's son of fierce shafts, once more pierced him with seven arrows. Endued with great might and steady prowess, Dhrishtadyumna, in that battle, afflicted Duryodhana with seventy arrows. Beholding the king thus afflicted, O bull of Bharata's race, his uterine brothers, accompanied by a large force, encompassed the son of Prishata. Surrounded by those Atirathas on every side, the Pancala hero, O king, careered in that battle, displaying his quickness in the use of weapons. Shikhandi, supported by the Prabhadrakas, fought with two Kuru bowmen, Kritavarma and the great car-warrior Kripa. Then also, O monarch, that battle became fierce and awful since the warriors were all resolved to lay down their lives and since all of them fought, making life the stake. Shalya, shooting showers of shafts on all sides, afflicted the Pandavas with Satyaki and Vrikodara amongst them. With patience and great strength, O monarch, the king of the Madras at the same time fought with the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva), each of whom resembled the Destroyer himself in prowess. The great car-warriors among the Pandavas who were mangled in that great battle with the shafts of Shalya, failed to find a protector. Then the heroic Nakula, the son of Madri, seeing king Yudhishthira the just greatly afflicted, rushed with speed against his maternal uncle. Shrouding Shalya in that battle (with many arrows), Nakula, that slayer of hostile heroes, smiling the while, pierced him in the centre of the chest with ten arrows, made entirely of iron, polished by the hands of the smith, equipped with wings of gold, whetted on stone, and propelled from his bow with great force. Afflicted by his illustrious nephew, Shalya afflicted his nephew in return with many straight arrows. Then king Yudhishthira, and Bhimasena, and Satyaki, and Sahadeva, the son of Madri, all rushed against the ruler of the Madras. The vanquisher of foes, the generalissimo of the Kuru army, received in that battle all those heroes that rushed towards him quickly, filling the cardinal and the subsidiary points of the compass with the rattle of their cars and causing the Earth to tremble therewith. Piercing Yudhishthira with three arrows and Bhima with seven, Shalya pierced Satyaki with a hundred arrows in that battle and Sahadeva with three. Then the ruler of the Madras, O sire, cut off, with a razor-headed arrow, the bow with arrow fixed on it of the high-souled Nakula. Struck with Shalya's shafts, that bow broke into pieces. Taking up another bow, Madri's son, that great car-warrior quickly covered the ruler of the Madras with winged arrows. Then Yudhishthira and Sahadeva, O sire, each pierced the ruler of the Madras with ten arrows in the chest. Bhimasena and Satyaki, rushing at the ruler of the Madras, both struck him with arrows winged with Kanka feathers, the former with sixty, and the latter with nine. Filled with rage at this, the ruler of the Madras pierced Satyaki with nine arrows and once again with seventy straight shafts. Then, O sire, he cut off at the handle the bow, with arrow fixed on it, of Satyaki and then despatched the four steeds of the latter to Yama's abode. Having made Satyaki carless, that mighty car-warrior, the ruler of the Madras, struck him with a hundred arrows from every side. He next pierced two angry sons of Madri, and Bhimasena the son of Pandu, and Yudhishthira, O thou of Kuru's race, with ten arrows each. The prowess that we then beheld of the ruler of the Madras was exceedingly wonderful, since the Parthas, even unitedly, could not approach him in that battle. Riding then upon another car, the mighty Satyaki, of prowess incapable of being baffled, beholding the Pandavas afflicted and succumbing to the ruler of the Madras, rushed with speed against him. That ornament of assemblies, Shalya, on his car, rushed against the car of Satyaki, like one infuriate elephant against another. The collision that then took place between Satyaki and the heroic ruler of the Madras, became fierce and wonderful to behold, even like that which had taken place in days of yore between the Asura Samvara and the chief of the celestials. Beholding the ruler of the Madras staying before him in that battle, Satyaki pierced him with ten arrows and said, "Wait, Wait!" Deeply pierced by that high-souled warrior, the ruler of the Madras pierced Satyaki in return with sharp shafts equipped with beautiful feathers. Those great bowmen then, the Parthas, beholding the king of the Madras assailed by Satyaki, quickly rushed towards him from desire of slaying that maternal uncle of theirs. The encounter then that took place between those struggling heroes, marked by a great flow of blood, became exceedingly awful, like that which takes place between a number of roaring lions. The struggle, O monarch, that took between them resembled that which takes place between a number of roaring lions fighting with each other for meat. With the dense showers of shafts shot by them, the Earth became entirely enveloped, and the welkin also suddenly became one mass of arrows. All around the field a darkness was caused by those arrows. Indeed, with the shafts shot by those illustrious warriors, a shadow as that of the clouds was caused there. Then, O king, with those blazing shafts sped by the warriors, that were equipped with wings of gold and that looked like snakes just freed from their sloughs, the points of the compass seemed to be ablaze. That slayer of foes, Shalya, then achieved the most wonderful feat, since that hero alone, and unsupported, contended with many heroes in that battle. The Earth became shrouded with the fierce shafts, equipped with feathers of Kankas and peacocks, that fell, sped from the arms of the ruler of the Madras. Then, O king, we beheld the car of Shalya careering in that dreadful battle like the car of Shakra in days of yore on the occasion of the destruction of the Asuras.'" 16 "Sanjaya said, 'Then, O lord, thy troops, with Shalya at their head, once more rushed against the Parthas in that battle with great impetuosity. Although afflicted, still these troops of thine, who were fierce in battle, rushing against the Parthas, very soon agitated them in consequence of their superior numbers. Struck by the Kurus, the Pandava troops, in the very sight of the two Krishnas, stayed not on the field, though sought to be checked by Bhimasena. Filled with rage at this, Dhananjaya covered Kripa and his followers, as also Kritavarma, with showers of shafts. Sahadeva checked Shakuni with all his forces. Nakula cast his glances on the ruler of the Madras from one of his flanks. The (five) sons of Draupadi checked numerous kings (of the Kuru army). The Pancala prince Shikhandi resisted the son of Drona. Armed with his mace, Bhimasena held the king in check, and Kunti's son Yudhishthira resisted Shalya at the head of his forces. The battle then commenced once more between those pairs as they stood, among thy warriors and those of the enemy, none of whom had ever retreated from fight. We then beheld the highly wonderful feat that Shalya achieved, since, alone, he fought with the whole Pandava army. Shalya then, as he stayed in the vicinity of Yudhishthira in that battle, looked like the planet Saturn in the vicinity of the Moon. Afflicting the king with shafts that resembled snakes of virulent poison, Shalya rushed against Bhima, covering him with showers of arrows. Beholding that lightness of hand and that mastery over weapons displayed by Shalya the troops of both the armies applauded him highly. Afflicted by Shalya the Pandavas, exceedingly mangled, fled away, leaving the battle, and disregarding the cries of Yudhishthira commanding them to stop. While his troops were thus being slaughtered by the ruler of the Madras, Pandu's son, king Yudhishthira the just, became filled with rage. Relying upon his prowess, that mighty car-warrior began to afflict the ruler of the Madras, resolved to either win the battle or meet with death. Summoning all his brothers and also Krishna of Madhu's race, he said unto them, "Bhishma, and Drona, and Karna, and the other kings, that put forth their prowess for the sake of the Kauravas, have all perished in battle. You all have exerted your valour according to your courage and in respect of the shares allotted to you. Only one share--mine--that is constituted by the mighty car-warrior Shalya, remains. I desire to vanquish that ruler of the Madras today in battle. Whatever wishes I have regarding the accomplishment of that task I will now tell you. These two heroes, the two sons of Madravati, will become the protectors of my wheels. They are counted as heroes incapable of being vanquished by Vasava himself. Keeping the duties of a Kshatriya before them, these two that are deserving of every honour and are firm in their vows, will fight with their maternal uncle. Either Shalya will slay me in battle or I will slay him. Blessed be ye. Listen to these true words, you foremost of heroes in the world. Observant of Kshatriya duties, I will fight with my maternal uncle, you lords of Earth, firmly resolved to either obtain victory or be slain. Let them that furnish cars quickly supply my vehicle, according to the rules of science, with weapons and all kinds of implements in a larger measure than Shalya's. The grandson of Sini will protect my right wheel, and Dhrishtadyumna my left. Let Pritha's son Dhananjaya guard my rear today. And let Bhima, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, fight in my front. I shall thus be superior to Shalya in the great battle that will occur." Thus addressed by the king, all his well-wishers did as they were requested. Then the Pandava troops once more became filled with joy, especially the Pancalas, the Somakas and the Matsyas. Having made that vow, the king proceeded against the ruler of the Madras. The Pancalas then blew and beat innumerable conchs and drums and uttered leonine roars. Endued with great activity and filled with rage, they rushed, with loud shouts of joy, against the ruler of the Madras, that bull among the Kurus. And they caused the Earth to resound with the noise of the elephants' bells, and the loud blare of conchs and trumpets. Then thy son and the valiant ruler of the Madras, like the Udaya and the Asta hills, received those assailants. Boasting of his prowess in battle, Shalya poured a shower of arrows on that chastiser of foes, king Yudhishthira the just, like Maghavat pouring rain. The high-souled king of the Kurus also having taken up his beautiful bow displayed those diverse kinds of lessons that Drona had taught him. And he poured successive showers of arrows beautifully, quickly, and with great skill. As he careered in battle, none could mark any lapses in him. Shalya and Yudhishthira, both endued with great prowess in battle, mangled each other, like a couple of tigers fighting for a piece of meat. Bhima was engaged with thy son, that delighter in battle. The Pancala prince (Dhrishtadyumna), Satyaki, and the two sons of Madri by Pandu, received Shakuni and the other Kuru heroes around. In consequence of thy evil policy, O king, there again occurred in that spot an awful battle between thy warriors and those of the foe, all of whom were inspired with the desire of victory. Duryodhana then, with a straight shaft, aiming at the gold-decked standard of Bhima, cut off in that battle. The beautiful standard of Bhimasena, adorned with many bells, fell down, O giver of honours. Once more the king, with a sharp razor-faced arrow, cut off the beautiful bow of Bhima that looked like the trunk of an elephant. Endued with great energy, the bowless Bhima then, putting forth his prowess pierced the chest of thy son with a dart. At this, thy son sat down on the terrace of his car. When Duryodhana swooned away, Vrikodara once more, with razor-faced shaft, cut off the head of his driver from his trunk. The steeds of Duryodhana's car, deprived of their driver, ran wildly on all sides, O Bharata, dragging the car after them, at which loud wails arose (in the Kuru army). Then the mighty car-warrior Ashvatthama, and Kripa and Kritavarma, followed that car, desirous of rescuing thy son. The (Kaurava) troops (at sight of this) became exceedingly agitated. The followers of Duryodhana became terrified. At that time, the wielder of Gandiva, drawing his bow, began to slay them with his arrows. Then Yudhishthira, excited with rage, rushed against the ruler of the Madras, himself urging his steeds white as ivory and fleet as thought. We then saw something that was wonderful in Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, for though very mild and soft, he then became exceedingly fierce. With eyes opened wide and body trembling in rage, the son of Kunti cut off hostile warriors in hundreds and thousands by means of his sharp shafts. Those amongst the soldiers against whom the eldest Pandava proceeded, were overthrown by him, O king, like mountain summits riven with thunder. Felling cars with steeds and drivers and standards and throwing down car-warriors in large numbers, Yudhishthira, without any assistance, began to sport there like a mighty wind destroying masses of clouds. Filled with rage, he destroyed steeds with riders and steeds without riders and foot-soldiers by thousands in that battle, like Rudra destroying living creatures (at the time of the universal dissolution). Having made the field empty by shooting his shafts on all sides, Yudhishthira rushed against the ruler of the Madras and said, "Wait, Wait!" Beholding the feats then of that hero of terrible deeds, all thy warriors became inspired with fear. Shalya, however, proceeded against him. Both of them filled with rage, blew their conchs. Returning and challenging each other, each then encountered the other. Then Shalya covered Yudhishthira with showers of arrows. Similarly, the son of Kunti covered the ruler of the Madras with showers of arrows. Then those two heroes, the ruler of the Madras and Yudhishthira, mangled in that battle with each other's arrows and bathed in blood, looked like a Salmali and a Kinsuka tree decked with flowers. Both possessed of splendour and both invincible in battle, those two illustrious warriors uttered loud roars. Beholding them both, the soldiers could not conclude which of them would be victorious. Whether the son of Pritha would enjoy the Earth, having slain Shalya, or whether Shalya having slain the son of Pandu would bestow the Earth on Duryodhana, could not be ascertained, O Bharata, by the warriors present there. King Yudhishthira, in course of that battle, placed his foes to his right. Then Shalya shot a hundred foremost of arrows at Yudhishthira. With another arrow of great sharpness, he cut off the latter's bow. Taking up another bow, Yudhishthira pierced Shalya with three hundred shafts and cut off the latter's bow with a razor-faced arrow. The son of Pandu then slew the four steeds of his antagonist with some straight arrows. With two other very sharp shafts, he then cut off the two Parshni drivers of Shalya. Then with another blazing, well-tempered and sharp shaft, he cut off the standard of Shalya staying in his front. Then, O chastiser of foes, the army of Duryodhana broke. The son of Drona, at this time, speedily proceeded towards the ruler of the Madras who had been reduced to that plight, and quickly taking him up on his own car, fled away quickly. After the two had proceeded for a moment, they heard Yudhishthira roar aloud. Stopping, the ruler of the Madras then ascended another car that had been equipped duly. That best of cars had a rattle deep as the roar of the clouds. Well furnished with weapons and instruments and all kinds of utensils, that vehicle made the hair of foes stand on end.'" 17 "Sanjaya said, 'Taking up another bow that was very strong and much tougher, the ruler of the Madras pierced Yudhishthira and roared like a lion. Then that bull amongst Kshatriyas, of immeasurable soul, poured upon all the Kshatriyas showers of arrows, even like the deity of the clouds pouring rain in torrents. Piercing Satyaki with ten arrows and Bhima with three and Sahadeva with as many, he afflicted Yudhishthira greatly. And he afflicted all the other great bowmen with their steeds and cars and elephants with many shafts like hunters afflicting elephants with blazing brands. Indeed, that foremost of car-warriors destroyed elephants and elephant-riders, horses and horsemen and cars and car-warriors. And he cut off the arms of combatants with weapons in grasp and the standards of vehicles, and caused the Earth to be strewn with (slain) warriors like the sacrificial altar with blades of Kusa grass. Then the Pandus, the Pancalas, and the Somakas, filled with rage, encompassed that hero who was thus slaughtering their troops like all-destroying Death. Bhimasena, and the grandson of Sini, and those two foremost of men, the two sons of Madri, encompassed that warrior while he was fighting with the (Pandava) king of terrible might. And all of them challenged him to battle. Then those heroes, O king, having obtained the ruler of the Madras, that foremost of warriors, in battle, checked that first of men in that encounter and began to strike him with winged arrows of fierce energy. Protected by Bhimasena, and by the two sons of Madri, and by him of Madhu's race, the royal son of Dharma struck the ruler of the Madras in the centre of the chest with winged arrows of fierce energy. Then the car-warriors and other combatants of thy army, clad in mail and equipped with weapons, beholding the ruler of the Madras exceedingly afflicted with arrows in that battle, surrounded him on all sides, at the command of Duryodhana. The ruler of the Madras at this time quickly pierced Yudhishthira with seven arrows in that battle. The high-souled son of Pritha, O king, in return, pierced his foe with nine arrows in that dreadful encounter. Those two great car-warriors, the ruler of the Madras and Yudhishthira, began to cover each other with arrows, washed in oil and shot from their bowstrings stretched to their ears. Those two best of kings, both endued with great strength, both incapable of being defeated by foes, and both foremost of car-warriors, watchful of each other's lapses, quickly and deeply pierced each other with each other's shafts. The loud noise of their bows, bowstrings, and palms resembled that of Indra's thunder as those high-souled warriors, the brave ruler of the Madras and the heroic Pandava, showered upon each other their numberless arrows. They careered on the field of battle like two young tigers in the deep forest fighting for a piece of meat. Swelling with pride of prowess, they mangled each other like a couple of infuriate elephants equipped with powerful tusks. Then the illustrious ruler of the Madras, endued with fierce impetuosity, putting forth his vigour, pierced the heroic Yudhishthira of terrible might in the chest with shaft possessed of the splendour of fire or the sun. Deeply pierced, O king, that bull of Kuru's race, the illustrious Yudhishthira, then struck the ruler of the Madras with a well-shot shaft and became filled with joy. Recovering his senses within a trice, that foremost of kings (Shalya), possessed of prowess equal to that of him of a 1,000 eyes, with eyes red in wrath, quickly struck the son of Pritha with a hundred arrows. At this, the illustrious son of Dharma filled with rage, quickly pierced Shalya's chest and then, without losing a moment, struck his golden mail with six shafts. Filled with joy, the ruler of the Madras then, drawing his bow and having shot many arrows, at last cut off, with a pair of razor-faced shafts, the bow of his royal foe, that bull of Kuru's race. The illustrious Yudhishthira then, taking a new and more formidable bow in that battle, pierced Shalya with many arrows of keen points from every side like Indra piercing the Asura Namuchi. The illustrious Shalya then, cutting off the golden coats of mail of both Bhima and king Yudhishthira with nine arrows, pierced the arms of both of them. With another razor-faced arrow endued with the splendour of fire or the sun, he then cut off the bow of Yudhishthira. At this time Kripa, with six arrows, slew the king's driver who thereupon fell down in front of the car. The ruler of the Madras then slew with four shafts the four steeds of Yudhishthira. Having slain the steeds of the king, the high-souled Shalya then began to slay the troops of the royal son of Dharma. When the (Pandava) king had been brought to that plight, the illustrious Bhimasena, quickly cutting off the bow of the Madra king with an arrow of great impetuosity, deeply pierced the king himself with a couple of arrows. With another arrow he severed the head of Shalya's driver from his trunk, the middle of which was encased in mail. Exceedingly excited with rage, Bhimasena next slew, without a moment's delay, the four steeds also of his foe. That foremost of all bowmen, Bhima, then covered with a hundred arrows that hero (Shalya), who, endued with great impetuosity, was careering alone in that battle. Sahadeva, the son of Madri, also did the same. Beholding Shalya stupefied with those arrows, Bhima cut off his armour with other shafts. His armour having been cut off by Bhimasena, the high-souled ruler of the Madras, taking up a sword and a shield decked with a 1,000 stars, jumped down from his car and rushed towards the son of Kunti. Cutting off the shaft of Nakula's car, Shalya of terrible strength rushed towards Yudhishthira. Beholding Shalya rushing impetuously towards the king, even like the Destroyer himself rushing in rage, Dhristadyumna and Shikhandi and the (five) sons of Draupadi and the grandson of Sini suddenly advanced towards him. Then the illustrious Bhima cut off with ten arrows the unrivalled shield of the advancing hero. With another broad-headed arrow he cut off the sword also of that warrior at the hilt. Filled with joy at this, he roared aloud in the midst of the troops. Beholding that feat of Bhima, all the foremost car-warriors among the Pandavas became filled with joy. Laughing aloud, they uttered fierce roars and blew their conchs white as the moon. At that terrible noise the army protected by thy heroes became cheerless, covered with sweat, bathed in blood, exceedingly melancholy and almost lifeless. The ruler of the Madras assailed by those foremost of Pandava warriors headed by Bhimasena, proceeded (regardless of them) towards Yudhishthira, like a lion proceeding for seizing a deer. King Yudhishthira the just, steedless and driverless, looked like a blazing fire in consequence of the wrath with which he was then excited. Beholding the ruler of the Madras before him, he rushed towards that foe with great impetuosity. Recollecting the words of Govinda, he quickly set his heart on the destruction of Shalya. Indeed, king Yudhishthira the just, staying on his steedless and driverless car, desired to take up a dart. Beholding that feat of Shalya and reflecting upon the fact that the hero who had been allotted to him as his share still remained unslain, the son of Pandu firmly set his heart upon accomplishing that which Indra's younger brother had counselled him to achieve. King Yudhishthira the just, took up a dart whose handle was adorned with gold and gems and whose effulgence was as bright as that of gold. Rolling his eyes that were wide open, he cast his glances on the ruler of the Madras, his heart filled with rage. Thus looked at, O god among men, by that king of cleansed soul and sins all washed away, the ruler of the Madras was not reduced to ashes. This appeared to us to be exceedingly wonderful, O monarch. The illustrious chief of the Kurus then hurled with great force at the king of the Madras that blazing dart of beautiful and fierce handle and effulgent with gems and corals. All the Kauravas beheld that blazing dart emitting sparks of fire as it coursed through the welkin after having been hurled with great force, even like a large meteor falling from the skies at the end of the Yuga. King Yudhishthira the just, in that battle, carefully hurled that dart which resembled kala-ratri (the Death Night) armed with the fatal noose or the foster-mother of fearful aspect of Yama himself, and which like the Brahmana's curse, was incapable of being baffled. Carefully the sons of Pandu had always worshipped that weapon with perfumes and garlands and foremost of seats and the best kinds of viands and drinks. That weapon seemed to blaze like Samvartaka-fire and was as fierce as a rite performed according to the Atharvan of Agnirasa. Created by Tvashtri (the celestial artificer) for the use of Ishana, it was a consumer of the life-breaths and the bodies of all foes. It was capable of destroying by its force the Earth and the welkin and all the receptacles of water and creatures of every kind. Adorned with bells and banners and gems and diamonds and decked with stones of lapis lazuli and equipped with a golden handle, Tvashtri himself had forged it with great care after having observed many vows. Unerringly fatal, it was destructive of all haters of Brahma. Having carefully inspired it with many fierce mantras, and endued it with terrible velocity by the exercise of great might and great care, king Yudhishthira hurled it along the best of tracks for the destruction of the ruler of the Madras. Saying in a loud voice the words, "Thou art slain, O wretch!" the king hurled it, even as Rudra had, in days of yore, shot his shaft for the destruction of the asura Andhaka, stretching forth his strong (right) arm graced with a beautiful hand, and apparently dancing in wrath. "'Shalya, however, roared aloud and endeavoured to catch that excellent dart of irresistible energy hurled by Yudhishthira with all his might, even as a fire leaps forth for catching a jet of clarified butter poured over it. Piercing through his very vitals and his fair and broad chest, that dart entered the Earth as easily as it would enter any water without the slightest resistance and bearing away (with it) the world-wide fame of the king (of the Madras). Covered with the blood that issued from his nostrils and eyes and ears and mouth, and that which flowed from his wound, he then looked like the Krauncha mountain of gigantic size when it was pierced by Skanda. His armour having been cut off by that descendant of Kuru's race, the illustrious Shalya, strong as Indra's elephant, stretching his arms, fell down on the Earth, like a mountain summit riven by thunder. Stretching his arms, the ruler of the Madras fell down on the Earth, with face directed towards king Yudhishthira the just, like a tall banner erected to the honour of Indra falling down on the ground. Like a dear wife advancing to receive her dear lord about to fall on her breast, the Earth then seemed, from affection, to rise a little for receiving that bull among men as he fell down with mangled limbs bathed in blood. The puissant Shalya, having long enjoyed the Earth like a dear wife, now seemed to sleep on the Earth's breast, embracing her with all his limbs. Slain by Dharma's son of righteous soul in fair fight, Shalya seemed to assume the aspect of a goodly fire lying extinguished on the sacrificial platform. Though deprived of weapons and standard, and though his heart had been pierced, beauty did not yet seem to abandon the lifeless ruler of the Madras. Then Yudhishthira, taking up his bow whose splendour resembled that of Indra's bow, began to destroy his foes in that battle like the prince of birds destroying snakes. With the greatest speed he began to cut off the bodies of his enemies with his keen shafts. With the showers of shafts that the son of Pritha then shot, thy troops became entirely shrouded. Overcome with fear and with eyes shut, they began to strike one another (so stupefied were they then). With blood issuing from their bodies, they became deprived of their weapons of attack and defence and divested of their life-breaths. Upon the fall of Shalya, the youthful younger brother of the king of the Madras, who was equal to his (deceased) brother in every accomplishment, and who was regarded as a mighty car-warrior, proceeded against Yudhishthira. Invincible in battle desirous of paying the last dues of his brother, that foremost of men quickly pierced the Pandava with very many shafts. With great speed king Yudhishthira the just pierced him with six arrows. With a couple of razor-faced arrows, he then cut off the bow and the standard of his antagonist. Then with a blazing and keen arrow of great force and broad head, he struck off the head of his foe staying before him. I saw that head adorned with earrings fall down from the car like a denizen of heaven falling down on the exhaustion of his merits. Beholding his headless trunk, bathed all over with blood, fallen down from the car, the Kaurava troops broke. Indeed, upon the slaughter of the younger brother of the Madras clad in beautiful armour, the Kurus, uttering cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" fled away with speed. Beholding Shalya's younger brother slain, thy troops, hopeless of their lives, were inspired with the fear of the Pandavas and fled, covered with dust. The grandson of Sini then, Satyaki, O bull of Bharata's race, shooting his shafts, proceeded against the frightened Kauravas while the latter were flying away. Then Hridika's son, O king, quickly and fearlessly received that invincible warrior, that irresistible and mighty bowman, as he advanced (against the beaten army). Those two illustrious and invincible heroes of Vrishni's race, Hridika's son and Satyaki, encountered each other like two furious lions. Both resembling the sun in effulgence, they covered each other with arrows of blazing splendour that resembled the rays of the sun. The arrows of those two lions of Vrishni's race, shot forcibly from their bows, we saw, looked like swiftly coursing insects in the welkin. Piercing Satyaki with ten arrows and his steeds with three, the son of Hridika cut off his bow with a straight shaft. Laying aside his best of bows which was thus cut off, that bull of Sini's race, quickly took up another that was tougher than the first. Having taken up that foremost of bows, that first of bowmen pierced the son of Hridika with ten arrows in the centre of the chest. Then cutting off his car and the shaft also of that car with many well-shot arrows, Satyaki quickly slew the steeds of his antagonist as also his two Parshni drivers. The valiant Kripa then, the son of Saradwat, O lord, beholding Hridika's son made carless, quickly bore him away, taking him up on his car. Upon the slaughter of the king of the Madras and upon Kritavarma having been made carless, the entire army of Duryodhana once more turned its face from the battle. At this time the army was shrouded with a dusty cloud. We could not see anything. The greater portion, however, of thy army fell. They who remained alive had turned away their faces from battle. Soon it was seen that that cloud of earthy dust which had arisen became allayed, O bull among men, in consequence of the diverse streams of blood that drenched it on every side. Then Duryodhana, seeing from a near point his army broken, alone resisted all the Parthas advancing furiously. Beholding the Pandavas on their cars as also Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishata and the invincible chief of the Anartas (Satyaki), the Kuru king covered all of them with sharp arrows. The enemy (at that time) approached him not, like mortal creatures fearing to approach the Destroyer standing before them. Meanwhile the son of Hridika, riding upon another car, advanced to that spot. The mighty car-warrior Yudhishthira then quickly slew the four steeds of Kritavarma with four shafts, and pierced the son of Gotama with six broad-headed arrows of great force. Then Ashvatthama, taking up on his car the son of Hridika who had been made steedless and carless by the (Pandava) king, bore him away from Yudhishthira's presence. The son of Saradwat pierced Yudhishthira in return with eight arrows and his steeds also with eight keen shafts. Thus, O monarch, the embers of that battle began to glow here and there, in consequence, O king, of the evil policy of thyself and thy son, O Bharata. After the slaughter of that foremost of bowmen on the field of battle by that bull of Kuru's race, the Parthas, beholding Shalya slain, united together, and filled with great joy, blew their conchs. And all of them applauded Yudhishthira in that battle, even as the celestials in days of yore, had applauded Indra after the slaughter of Vritra. And they beat and blew diverse kinds of musical instruments, making the Earth resound on every side with that noise.'" 18 "Sanjaya said, 'After the slaughter of Shalya, O king, the followers of the Madra king, numbering seventeen hundred heroic car-warriors, proceeded for battle with great energy. Duryodhana riding upon an elephant gigantic as a hill, with an umbrella held over his head, and fanned the while with yak-tails, forbade the Madraka warriors, saying, "Do not proceed, Do not proceed!" Though repeatedly forbidden by Duryodhana, those heroes, desirous of slaying Yudhishthira, penetrated into the Pandava host. Those brave combatants, O monarch, loyal to Duryodhana, twanging their bows loudly, fought with the Pandavas. Meanwhile, hearing that Shalya had been slain and that Yudhishthira was afflicted by the mighty car-warriors of the Madrakas devoted to the welfare of the Madraka king, the great car-warrior Partha came there, stretching his bow Gandiva, and filling the Earth with the rattle of his car. Then Arjuna, and Bhima, and the two sons of Madri by Pandu, and that tiger among men, Satyaki, and the (five) sons of Draupadi, and Dhrishtadyumna, and Shikhandi, and the Pancalas and the Somakas, desirous of rescuing Yudhishthira, surrounded him on all sides. Having taken their places around the king, the Pandavas, those bulls among men, began to agitate the hostile force like Makaras agitating the ocean. Indeed, they caused thy army to tremble like a mighty tempest shaking the trees. Like the great river Ganges agitated by a hostile wind, the Pandava host, O king, once more became exceedingly agitated. Causing that mighty host to tremble, the illustrious and mighty car-warriors (the Madrakas), all shouted loudly, saying, "Where is that king Yudhishthira? Why are not his brave brothers, the Pandavas, to be seen here? What has become of the Pancalas of great energy as also of the mighty car-warrior Shikhandi? Where are Dhrishtadyumna and the grandson of Sini and those great car-warriors, the (five) sons of Draupadi?" At this, those mighty warriors, the sons of Draupadi, began to slaughter the followers of the Madra king who were uttering those words and battling vigorously. In that battle, some amongst thy troops were seen slain by means of their lofty standards. Beholding, however, the heroic Pandavas, the brave warriors of thy army, O Bharata, though forbidden by thy son, still rushed against them. Duryodhana, speaking softly, sought to prevent those warriors from fighting with the foe. No great car-warrior, however, amongst them obeyed his behest. Then Shakuni, the son of the Gandhara king, possessed of eloquence, O monarch, said unto Duryodhana these words, "How is this that we are standing here, while the Madraka host is being slaughtered before our eyes? When thou, O Bharata, art here, this does not look well! The understanding made was that all of us should fight unitedly! Why then, O king, dost thou tolerate our foes when they are thus slaying our troops?" "'Duryodhana said, "Though forbidden by me before, they did not obey my behest. Unitedly have these men penetrated in the Pandava host!" "'Shakuni said, "Brave warriors, when excited with rage in battle, do not obey the command of their leaders. It does not behove thee to be angry with those men. This is not the time to stand indifferently. We shall, therefore, all of us, united together with our cars and horses and elephants, proceed, for rescuing those great bowmen, the followers of the Madra king! With great care, O king, we shall protect one another." Thinking after the manner of Shakuni, all the Kauravas then proceeded to that place where the Madras were. Duryodhana also, thus addressed (by his maternal uncle) proceeded, encompassed by a large force, against the foe, uttering leonine shouts and causing the Earth to resound with that noise. "Slay, pierce, seize, strike, cut off!" These were the loud sounds that were heard then, O Bharata, among those troops. Meanwhile the Pandavas, beholding in that battle the followers of the Madra king assailing them unitedly, proceeded against them, arraying themselves in the form called Madhyama. Fighting hand to hand, O monarch, for a short while those heroic warriors, the followers of the Madra king, were seen to perish. Then, whilst we were proceeding, the Pandavas, united together and endued with great activity, completed the slaughter of the Madrakas, and, filled with delight, uttered joyous shouts. Then headless forms were seen to arise all around. Large meteors seemed to fall down from the sun's disc. The Earth became covered with cars and broken yokes and axles and slain car-warriors and lifeless steeds. Steeds fleet as the wind, still attached to yokes of cars (but without drivers to guide them) were seen to drag car-warriors, O monarch, hither and thither on the field of battle. Some horses were seen to drag cars with broken wheels, while some ran on all sides, bearing after them portions of broken cars. Here and there also were seen steeds that were hampered in their motions by their traces. Car-warriors, while falling down from their cars, were seen to drop down like denizens of heaven on the exhaustion of their merits. When the brave followers of the Madra king were slain, the mighty car-warriors of the Parthas, those great smiters, beholding a body of horse advancing towards them, rushed towards it with speed from desire of victory. Causing their arrows to whiz loudly and making diverse other kinds of noise mingled with the blare of their conchs, those effectual smiters possessed of sureness of aim, shaking their bows, uttered leonine roars. Beholding then that large force of the Madra king exterminated and seeing also their heroic king slain in battle, the entire army of Duryodhana once more turned away from the field. Struck, O monarch, by those firm bowmen, the Pandavas, the Kuru army fled away on all sides, inspired with fear.'" 19 "Sanjaya said, 'Upon the fall of that great king and mighty car-warrior, that invincible hero (Shalya) in battle, thy troops as also thy sons almost all turned away from the fight. Indeed, upon the slaughter of that hero by the illustrious Yudhishthira, thy troops were like ship-wrecked merchants on the vast deep without a raft to cross it. After the fall of the Madra king, O monarch, thy troops, struck with fear and mangled with arrows, were like masterless men desirous of a protector or a herd of deer afflicted by a lion. Like bulls deprived of their horns or elephants whose tusks have been broken, thy troops, defeated by Ajatasatru, fled away at midday. After the fall of Shalya, O king, none amongst thy troops set his heart on either rallying the army or displaying his prowess. That fear, O king, and that grief, which had been ours upon the fall of Bhishma, of Drona, and of the Suta's son, O Bharata, now became ours once more, O monarch. Despairing of success upon the fall of the mighty car-warrior Shalya, the Kuru army, with its heroes slain and exceedingly confused, began to be cut down with keen shafts. Upon the slaughter of the Madra king, O monarch, thy warriors all fled away in fear. Some on horse-back, some on elephants, some on cars, great car-warriors with great speed, and foot-soldiers also fled away in fear. 2,000 elephants, looking like hills, and accomplished in smiting fled away, after Shalya's fall, urged on with hooks and toes. Indeed, O chief of the Bharatas, thy soldiers fled on all sides. Afflicted with arrows, they were seen to run, breathing hard. Beholding them defeated and broken and flying away in dejection, the Pancalas and the Pandavas, inspired with desire of victory, pursued then hotly. The whiz of arrows and other noises, the loud leonine roars, and the blare of conchs of heroic warriors, became tremendous. Beholding the Kaurava host agitated with fear and flying away, the Pancalas and the Pandavas addressed one another, saying, "Today king Yudhishthira, firm in truth, hath vanquished his enemies. Today Duryodhana hath been divested of his splendour and kingly prosperity. Today, hearing of his sons' death, let Dhritarashtra, that king of men, stupefied and prostrate on the Earth, feel the most poignant anguish. Let him know today that the son of Kunti is possessed of great might among all bowmen. Today that sinful and wicked-hearted king will censure his own self. Let him recollect today the time and beneficial words of Vidura. Let him from this day wait upon the Parthas as their slave. Let that king today experience the grief that had been felt by the sons of Pandu. Let that king know today the greatness of Krishna. Let him hear today the terrible twang of Arjuna's bow in battle, as also the strength of all his weapons, and the might of his arms in fight. Today he will know the awful might of the high-souled Bhima when Duryodhana will be slain in battle even as the Asura Vali was slain by Indra. Save Bhima of mighty strength, there is none else in this world that can achieve that which was achieved by Bhima himself at the slaughter of Duhshasana. Hearing of the slaughter of the ruler of the Madras who was incapable of defeat by the very gods, that king will know the prowess of the eldest son of Pandu. After the slaughter of the heroic son of Subala and all the Gandharas he will know the strength, in battle, of the two sons of Madri by Pandu. Why will not victory be theirs that have Dhananjaya for their warrior, as also Satyaki, and Bhimasena, and Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishata, and the five sons of Draupadi, and the two sons of Madri, and the mighty bowman Shikhandi, and king Yudhishthira? Why will not victory be theirs that have for their protector Krishna, otherwise called Janardana, that protector of the universe? Why will not victory be theirs that have righteousness for their refuge? Who else than Yudhishthira the son of Pritha, who hath Hrishikesa, the refuge of righteousness and fame, for his protector, is competent to vanquish in battle Bhishma and Drona and Karna and the ruler of the Madras and the other kings by hundreds and thousands?" Saying these words and filled with joy, the Srinjayas pursued thy troops in that battle who had been exceedingly mangled with shafts. Then Dhananjaya of great valour proceeded against the car-division of the foe. The two sons of Madri and the mighty car-warrior Satyaki proceeded against Shakuni. Beholding them all flying with speed in fear of Bhimasena, Duryodhana as if smiling the while, addressed his driver, saying, "Partha, stationed there with his bow, is transgressing me. Take my steeds to the rear of the whole army. Like the ocean that cannot transgress its continents, Kunti's son Dhananjaya will never venture to transgress me, if I take up my stand in the rear. Behold, O driver, this vast host that is pursued by the Pandavas. Behold this cloud of dust that has arisen on all sides in consequence of the motion of the troops. Hear those diverse leonine roars that are so awful and loud! Therefore, O driver, proceed slowly and take up thy position in the rear. If I stay in battle and fight the Pandavas, my army, O driver, will rally and come back with vigour to battle." Hearing these words of thy son that were just those of a hero and man of honour, the driver slowly urged those steeds in trappings of gold. 21,000 foot-soldiers, deprived of elephants and steeds and car-warriors, and who were ready to lay down their lives, still stood for battle. Born in diverse countries and hailing from diverse towns, those warriors maintained their ground, desirous of winning great fame. The clash of those rushing warriors filled with joy became loud and exceedingly terrible. Then Bhimasena, O king, and Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishata resisted them with four kinds of forces. Other foot-soldiers proceeded against Bhima, uttering loud shouts and slapping their armpits, all actuated by the desire of going to heaven. Those Dhartarashtra combatants, filled with rage and invincible in battle, having approached Bhimasena, uttered furious shouts. They then spoke not to one another. Encompassing Bhima in that battle, they began to strike him from all sides. Surrounded by that large body of warriors on foot and struck by them in that battle, Bhima did not stir from where he stood fixed like Mainaka mountain. His assailants, meanwhile, filled with rage, O monarch, endeavoured to afflict that mighty car-warrior of the Pandavas and checked other combatants (that tried to rescue him). Encountered by those warriors, Bhima became filled with fury. Quickly alighting from his car, he proceeded on foot against them. Taking up his massive mace adorned with gold, he began to slay thy troops like the Destroyer himself armed with his club. The mighty Bhima, with his mace, crushed those 21,000 foot-soldiers who were without cars and steeds and elephants. Having slain that strong division, Bhima, of prowess incapable of being baffled, showed himself with Dhrishtadyumna in his front. The Dhartarashtra foot-soldiers, thus slain, lay down on the ground, bathed in blood, like Karnikaras with their flowery burthens laid low by a tempest. Adorned with garlands made of diverse kinds of flowers, and decked with diverse kinds of earrings, those combatants of diverse races, who had hailed from diverse realms, lay down on the field, deprived of life. Covered with banners and standards, that large host of foot-soldiers, thus cut down, looked fierce and terrible and awful as they lay down on the field. The mighty car-warriors, with their followers, that fought under Yudhishthira's lead, all pursued thy illustrious son Duryodhana. Those great bowmen, beholding thy troops turn away from the battle, proceeded against Duryodhana, but they could not transgress him even as the ocean cannot transgress its continents. The prowess that we then beheld of thy son was exceedingly wonderful, since all the Parthas, united together, could not transgress his single self. Then Duryodhana, addressing his own army which had not fled far but which, mangled with arrows, had set its heart on flight, said these words, "I do not see the spot on plain or mountain, whither, if ye fly, the Pandavas will not pursue and slay ye! What is the use then of flight? The army of the Pandavas hath been reduced in numbers. The two Krishnas are exceedingly mangled. If all of us make a stand, victory will be certainly ours! If you fly away, losing all order, the sinful Pandavas, pursuing you will slay you all! If, on the other hand, we make a stand, good will result to us! Listen, all you Kshatriyas that are assailed here! When the Destroyer always slays heroes and cowards, what man is there so stupid that, calling himself a Kshatriya, will not fight? Good will result to us if we stay in the front of the angry Bhimasena! Death in battle, while struggling according to Kshatriya practices, is fraught with happiness! Winning victory, one obtains happiness here. If slain, one obtains great fruits in the other world! You Kauravas, there is no better path to heaven than that offered by battle! Slain in battle, you may, without delay, obtain all those regions of blessedness." Hearing these words of his, and applauding them highly, the (Kuru) kings once more rushed against the Pandavas for battling with them. Seeing them advancing with speed, the Parthas, arrayed in order of battle, skilled in smiting, excited with rage, and inspired with desire of victory, rushed against them. The valiant Dhananjaya, stretching his bow Gandiva celebrated over the three worlds, proceeded on his car against the foe. The two sons of Madri, and Satyaki, rushed against Shakuni, and the other (Pandava) heroes, smiling, rushed impetuously against thy forces.'" 20 "Sanjaya said, 'After the (Kuru) army had been rallied, Shalva, the ruler of the Mlecchas, filled with rage, rushed against the large force of the Pandavas, riding on a gigantic elephant, with secretions issuing from the usual limbs, looking like a hill, swelling with pride, resembling Airavata himself, and capable of crushing large bands of foes. Shalva's animal sprung from a high and noble breed. It was always worshipped by Dhritarashtra's son. It was properly equipped and properly trained for battle, O king, by persons well-conversant with elephant-lore. Riding on that elephant, that foremost of kings looked like the morning sun at the close of summer. Mounting on that foremost of elephants, O monarch, he proceeded against the Pandavas and began to pierce them on all sides with keen and terrible shafts that resembled Indra's thunder in force. While he shot his arrows in that battle and despatched hostile warriors to Yama's abode, neither the Kauravas nor the Pandavas could notice any lapses in him, even as the Daityas, O king, could not notice any in Vasava, the wielder of the thunder, in days of yore, while the latter was employed in crushing their divisions. The Pandavas, the Somakas, and the Srinjayas, beheld that elephant looking like a 1,000 elephants careering around them, even as the foes of the gods had in days of yore beheld the elephant of Indra in battle. Agitated (by that animal), the hostile army looked on every side as if deprived of life. Unable to stand in battle, they then fled away in great fear, crushing one another as they ran. Then the vast host of the Pandavas, broken by king Shalya, suddenly fled on all sides, unable to endure the impetuosity of that elephant. Beholding the Pandava host broken and flying away in speed, all the foremost of warriors of thy army worshipped king Salwa and blew their conchs white as the moon. Hearing the shouts of the Kauravas uttered in joy and the blare of their conchs, the commander of the Pandava and the Srinjaya forces, the Pancala prince (Dhrishtadyumna) could not, from wrath, endure it. The illustrious Dhrishtadyumna then, with great speed, proceeded for vanquishing the elephant, even as the Asura Jambha had proceeded against Airavata, the prince of elephants that Indra rode in the course of his encounter with Indra. Beholding the ruler of the Pandavas impetuously rushing against him, Salwa, that lion among kings, quickly urged his elephants, O king, for the destruction of Drupada's son. The latter, seeing the animal approaching with precipitancy, pierced it with three foremost of shafts, polished by the hands of the smith, keen, blazing, endued with fierce energy, and resembling fire itself in splendour and force. Then that illustrious hero struck the animal at the frontal globes with five other whetted and foremost of shafts. Pierced therewith, that prince of elephants, turning away from the battle, ran with great speed. Salwa, however, suddenly checking that foremost of elephants which had been exceedingly mangled and forced to retreat, caused it to turn back, and with hooks and keen lances urged it forward against the car of the Pancala king, pointing it out to the infuriate animal. Beholding the animal rushing impetuously at him, the heroic Dhrishtadyumna, taking up a mace, quickly jumped down on the Earth from his car, his limbs stupefied with fear. That gigantic elephant, meanwhile, suddenly crushing that gold-decked car with its steeds and driver, raised it up in the air with his trunk and then dashed it down on the Earth. Beholding the driver of the Pancala king thus crushed by that foremost of elephants, Bhima and Shikhandi and the grandson of Sini rushed with great speed against that animal. With their shafts they speedily checked the impetuosity of the advancing beast. Thus received by those car-warriors and checked by them in battle, the elephant began to waver. Meanwhile, king Salwa began to shoot his shafts like the sun shedding his rays on all sides. Struck with those shafts, the (Pandava) car-warriors began to fly away. Beholding that feat of Salwa, the Pancalas, the Srinjayas, and the Matsyas, O king, uttered loud cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" in that battle, all those foremost of men, however, encompassed the animal on all sides. The brave Pancala king then, taking up his mace which resembled the lofty crest of a mountain, appeared there. Fearlessly, O king, that hero, that smiter of foes, rushed with speed against the elephant. Endued with great activity, the prince of the Pancalas approached and began to strike with his mace that animal which was huge as a hill and which shed its secretions like a mighty mass of pouring clouds. Its frontal globes suddenly split open, and it uttered a loud cry; and vomiting a profuse quantity of blood, the animal, huge as a hill, suddenly fell down, even as a mountain falling down during an earthquake. While that prince of elephants was falling down, and while the troops of thy son were uttering wails of woe at the sight, that foremost of warriors among the Sinis cut off the head of king Salwa with a sharp and broad-headed arrow. His head having been cut off by the Satwata hero, Salwa fell down on the Earth along with his prince of elephants, even like a mountain summit suddenly riven by the thunderbolt hurled by the chief of the celestials.'" 21 "Sanjaya said, 'After the heroic Salwa, that ornament of assemblies, had been slain, thy army speedily broke like a mighty tree broken by the force of the tempest. Beholding the army broken, the mighty car-warrior Kritavarma, possessed by heroism and great strength, resisted the hostile force in that battle. Seeing the Satwata hero, O king, standing in battle like a hill pierced with arrows (by the foes), the Kuru heroes, who had fled away, rallied and came back. Then, O monarch, a battle took place between the Pandavas and the returned Kurus who made death itself their goal. Wonderful was that fierce encounter which occurred between the Satwata hero and his foes, since he resisted the invincible army of the Pandavas. When friends were seen to accomplish the most difficult feats, friends, filled with delight, uttered leonine shouts that seemed to reach the very heavens. At those sounds the Pancalas, O bull of Bharata's race, became inspired with fear. Then Satyaki, the grandson of Sini, approached that spot. Approaching king Kshemakirti of great strength, Satyaki despatched him to Yama's abode, with seven keen shafts. Then the son of Hridika, of great intelligence, rushed with speed against that bull of Sini's race, that mighty armed warrior, as the latter came, shooting his whetted shafts. Those two bowmen, those two foremost of car-warriors, roared like lions and encountered each other with great force, both being armed with foremost of weapons. The Pandavas, the Pancalas, and the other warriors, became spectators of that terrible encounter between the two heroes. Those two heroes of the Vrishni-Andhaka race, like two elephants filled with delight, struck each other with long arrows and shafts equipped with calf-toothed heads. Careering in diverse kinds of tracks, the son of Hridika and that bull of Sini's race soon afflicted each other with showers of arrows. The shafts sped with great force from the bows of the two Vrishni lions were seen by us in the welkin to resemble flights of swiftly coursing insects. Then the son of Hridika, approaching Satyaki of true prowess, pierced the four steeds of the latter with four keen shafts. The long-armed Satyaki, enraged at this, like an elephant struck with a lance, pierced Kritavarma with eight foremost of arrows. Then Kritavarma pierced Satyaki with three arrows whetted on stone and sped from his bow drawn to its fullest and then cut off his bow with another arrow. Laying aside his broken bow, that bull of Sini's race quickly took up another with arrow fixed on it. Having taken up that foremost of bows and stringed it, that foremost of all bowmen, that Atiratha of mighty energy and great intelligence and great strength, unable to endure the cutting of his bow by Kritavarma, and filled with fury, quickly rushed against the latter. With ten keen shafts that bull of Sini's race then struck the driver, the steeds, and the standard of Kritavarma. At this, O king, the great bowman and mighty car-warrior Kritavarma, beholding his gold-decked car made driverless and steedless, became filled with rage. Uplifting a pointed lance, O sire, he hurled it with all the force of his arm at that bull of Sini's race, desirous of slaying him. Satyaki, however, of the Satwata race, striking that lance with many keen arrows, cut it off into fragments and caused it to fall down, stupefying Kritavarma of Madhu's race (with his activity and prowess). With another broad-headed arrow he then struck Kritavarma in the chest. Made steedless and driverless in that battle by Yuyudhana, skilled in weapons, Kritavarma came down on the Earth. The heroic Kritavarma having been deprived of his car by Satyaki in that single combat, all the (Kaurava) troops became filled with great fear. A great sorrow afflicted the heart of thy sons, when Kritavarma was thus made steedless and driverless and carless. Beholding that chastiser of foes made steedless and driverless, Kripa, O king, rushed at that bull of Sini's race, desirous of despatching him to Yama's abode. Taking Kritavarma upon his car in the very sight of all the bowmen, the mighty-armed Kripa bore him away from the press of battle. After Kritavarma had been made carless and the grandson of Sini had become powerful on the field, the whole army of Duryodhana once more turned away from the fight. The enemy, however, did not see it, for the (Kuru) army was then shrouded with a dusty cloud. All thy warriors fled, O monarch, except king Duryodhana. The latter, beholding from a near point that his own army was routed, quickly rushing, assailed the victorious enemy, alone resisting them all. Fearlessly that invincible warrior, filled with rage, assailed with keen arrows all the Pandus, and Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishta, and Shikhandi, and the sons of Draupadi, and the large bands of the Pancalas, and the Kaikeyas, O sire, and the Somakas! With firm determination thy mighty son stood in battle, even as a blazing and mighty fire on the sacrificial platform, sanctified with mantras. Even thus, king Duryodhana careered all over the field, in that battle. His foes could not approach him then, like living creatures unable to approach the Destroyer. Then the son of Hridika came there, riding on another car.'" 22 "Sanjaya said, 'That foremost of car-warriors, O monarch, thy son, riding on his car and filled with the courage of despair, looked resplendent in that battle like Rudra himself of great valour. With the thousands of shafts shot by him, the Earth became completely covered. Indeed, he drenched his enemies with showers of arrows like the clouds pouring rain on mountain breasts. There was then not a man amongst the Pandavas in that great battle, or a steed, or an elephant, or a car, that was not struck with Duryodhana's arrows. Upon whomsoever amongst the warriors I then cast my eyes, O monarch, I beheld that every one, O Bharata, was struck by thy son with his arrows. The Pandava army was then covered with the shafts of that illustrious warrior, even as a host is covered with the dust it raises while marching or rushing to battle. The Earth then, O lord of Earth, seemed to me to be made one entire expanse of arrows by thy son Duryodhana, that bowman possessed of great lightness of hands. Amongst those thousands upon thousands of warriors on the field, belonging to thy side or that of the enemy, it seemed to me that Duryodhana was then the only man. The prowess that we then beheld of thy son seemed to be exceedingly wonderful, since the Parthas, even uniting together, could not approach his single self. He pierced Yudhishthira, O bull of Bharata's race, with a hundred arrows, and Bhimasena with seventy, and Sahadeva with seven. And he pierced Nakula with four and sixty, and Dhrishtadyumna with five, and the sons of Draupadi with seven, and Satyaki with three arrows. With a broad-headed arrow, he then, O sire, cut off the bow of Sahadeva. Laying aside that broken bow, the valiant son of Madri, took up another formidable bow, and rushing against king Duryodhana, pierced him with ten shafts in that battle. The great bowman Nakula, possessed of courage, then pierced the king with nine terrible arrows and uttered a loud roar. Satyaki struck the king with a single straight shaft; the sons of Draupadi struck him with three and seventy and king Yudhishthira struck him with five. And Bhimasena afflicted the king with eighty shafts. Though pierced thus from every side with numerous arrows by these illustrious warriors, Duryodhana still, O monarch, did not waver, in the presence of all the troops who stood there as spectators. The quickness, the skill, and the prowess of that illustrious warrior were seen by all the men there to exceed those of every creature. Meanwhile the Dhartarashtras, O monarch, who had not fled far from that spot, beholding the king, rallied and returned there, clad in mail. The noise made by them when they came back became exceedingly awful, like the roar of the surging ocean in the season of rains. Approaching their unvanquished king in that battle, those great bowmen proceeded against the Pandavas for fight. The son of Drona resisted in that battle the angry Bhimasena. With the arrows, O monarch, that were shot in that battle, all the points of the compass became completely shrouded, so that the brave combatants could not distinguish the cardinal from the subsidiary points of the compass. As regards Ashvatthama and Bhimasena, O Bharata, both of them were achievers of cruel feats. Both of them were irresistible in battle. The arms of both contained many cicatrices in consequence of both having repeatedly drawn the bow-string. Counteracting each other's feats, they continued to fight with each other, frightening the whole Universe. The heroic Shakuni assailed Yudhishthira in that battle. The mighty son of Subala, having slain the four steeds of the king, uttered a loud roar, causing all the troops to tremble with fear. Meanwhile, the valiant Sahadeva bore away the heroic and vanquished king on his car from that battle. Then king Yudhishthira the just, riding upon another car (came back to battle), and having pierced Shakuni at first with nine arrows, once more pierced him with five. And that foremost of all bowmen then uttered a loud roar. That battle, O sire, awful as it was, became wonderful to behold. It filled the spectators with delight and was applauded by the Siddhas and the Charanas. Uluka of immeasurable soul rushed against the mighty bowman Nakula, in that battle, shooting showers of arrows from every side. The heroic Nakula, however, in that battle, resisted the son of Shakuni with a thick shower of arrows from every side. Both those heroes were well-born and both were mighty car-warriors. They were seen to fight with each other, each highly enraged with the other. Similarly Kritavarma, O king, fighting with the grandson of Sini, that scorcher of foes, looked resplendent, like Shakra battling with the Asura Vala. Duryodhana, having cut off Dhrishtadyumna's bow in that battle, pierced his bowless antagonist with keen shafts. Dhrishtadyumna then, in that encounter, having taken up a formidable bow, fought with the king in the sight of all the bowmen. The battle between those two heroes became exceedingly fierce, O bull of Bharata's race, like the encounter between two wild and infuriate elephants with juicy secretions trickling down their limbs. The heroic Gautama, excited with rage in that battle, pierced the mighty sons of Draupadi with many straight shafts. The battle that took place between him and those five, resembled that which takes place between an embodied being and his (five) senses. It was awful and exceedingly fierce, and neither side showed any consideration for the other. The (five) sons of Draupadi afflicted Kripa like the (five) senses afflicting a foolish man. He, on the other hand, fighting with them, controlled them with vigour. Even such and so wonderful, O Bharata, was that battle between him and them. It resembled the repeated combats, O lord, between embodied creatures and their senses. Men fought with men, elephants with elephants, steeds with steeds and car-warriors with car-warriors. Once more, O monarch, that battle became general and awful. Here an encounter was beautiful, there another was awful, and there another was exceedingly fierce, O lord! Many and awful, O monarch, were the encounters that took place in course of that battle. Those chastisers of foes (belonging to both armies), encountering one another, pierced and slew one another in that dreadful engagement. A dense cloud of dust was then seen there, raised by the vehicles and the animals of the warriors. Thick also, O king, was the dust raised by the running steeds, a dust that was carried from one place to another by the wind. Raised by the wheels of cars and the breaths of the elephants, the dust, thick as an evening cloud, rose into the welkin. That dust having been raised and the sun himself having been dimmed therewith, the Earth became shrouded, and the heroic and mighty car-warriors could not be seen. Anon that disappeared and everything became clear when the Earth, O best of the Bharatas, became drenched with the blood of heroes. Indeed, that dense and awful cloud of dust was allayed. Then, O Bharata, I could once more see the diverse single combats that the combatants fought at noon of day, each according to his strength and his rank, all of which were exceedingly fierce. The blazing splendour of those feats, O monarch, appeared full in view. Loud became the noise of falling shafts in that battle, resembling that made by a vast forest of bamboo while burning on every side.'" 23 "Sanjaya said, 'During the progress of that terrible and awful battle, the army of thy son was broken by the Pandavas. Rallying their great car-warriors, however, with vigorous efforts, thy sons continued to fight with the Pandava army. The (Kuru) warriors, desirous of thy son's welfare, suddenly returned. Upon their return, the battle once more became exceedingly fierce between thy warriors and those of the foe, resembling that between the gods and the Asuras in days of old. Neither amongst the enemies nor amongst thine was there a single combatant that turned away from that battle. The warriors fought, aided by guess and by the names they uttered. Great was the destruction that occurred as they thus fought with one another. Then king Yudhishthira, filled with great wrath and becoming desirous of vanquishing the Dhartarashtras and their king in that battle, pierced the son of Saradwat with three arrows winged with gold and whetted on stone, and next slew with four others the four steeds of Kritavarma. Then Ashvatthama bore away the celebrated son of Hridika. Saradwat's son pierced Yudhishthira in return with eight arrows. Then king Duryodhana despatched seven hundred cars to the spot where king Yudhishthira was battling. Those cars ridden by excellent warriors and endued with speed of the wind or thought, rushed in that battle against the car of Kunti's son. Encompassing Yudhishthira on every side, they made him invisible with their shafts like clouds hiding the sun from the view. Then the Pandava heroes headed by Shikhandi, beholding king Yudhishthira the just assailed in that way by the Kauravas, became filled with rage and were unable to put up with it. Desirous of rescuing Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, they came to that spot upon their cars possessed of great speed and adorned with rows of bells. Then commenced an awful battle, in which blood flowed as water, between the Pandavas and the Kurus, that increased the population of Yama's domains. Slaying those seven hundred hostile car-warriors of the Kuru army, the Pandavas and the Pancalas once more resisted (the whole Kuru army). There a fierce battle was fought between thy son and the Pandavas. We had never before seen or heard of its like. During the progress of that battle in which no consideration was showed by anybody for anybody, and while the warriors of thy army and those of the foe were falling fast, and the combatants were all shouting and blowing their conchs, and the bowmen were roaring and uttering loud noises of diverse kinds, while, indeed, the battle was raging fiercely and the very vitals of the combatants were being struck, and the troops, O sire, desirous of victory, were rushing with speed, while, verily, everything on Earth seemed to be undergoing a woeful destruction, during that time when innumerable ladies of birth and beauty were being made widows, during, indeed, the progress of that fierce engagement in which the warriors behaved without any consideration for friends and foes, awful portents appeared, presaging the destruction of everything. The Earth, with her mountains and forests, trembled, making a loud noise. Meteors like blazing brands equipped with handles dropped from the sky, O king, on every side on the Earth as if from the solar disc. A hurricane arose, blowing on all sides, and bearing away hard pebbles along its lower course. The elephants shed copious tears and trembled exceedingly. Disregarding all these fierce and awful portents, the Kshatriyas, taking counsel with one another, cheerfully stood on the field for battle again, on the beautiful and sacred field called after Kuru, desirous of obtaining heaven. Then Shakuni, the son of the Gandhara king, said, "Fight all of ye in front! I, however, will slay the Pandavas from behind." Then the Madraka warriors, endued with great activity, amongst those on our side that were advancing, became filled with joy and uttered diverse sounds of delight. Others too did the same. The invincible Pandavas, however, possessed of sureness of aim, once more coming against us, shook their bows and covered us with showers of arrows. The forces of the Madrakas then were slain by the foe. Beholding this, the troops of Duryodhana once more turned away from the battle. The mighty king of the Gandharas, however, once more said these words, "Stop, ye sinful ones! Fight (with the foe)! What use is there of flight?" At that time, O bull of Bharata's race, the king of the Gandharas had full 10,000 horse-men capable of fighting with bright lances. During the progress of that great carnage, Shakuni, aided by that force, put forth his valour and assailed the Pandava army at the rear, slaughtering it with his keen shafts. The vast force of the Pandus then, O monarch, broke even as a mass of clouds is dispersed on all sides by a mighty wind. Then Yudhishthira, beholding from a near point his own army routed, coolly urged the mighty Sahadeva, saying, "Yonder the son of Subala, afflicting our rear, stayeth, clad in mail! He slaughtereth our forces! Behold that wicked wight, O son of Pandu! Aided by the son of Draupadi, proceed towards him and slay Shakuni, the son of Subala! Supported by the Pancalas, O sinless one, I will meanwhile destroy the car force of the enemy! Let all the elephants and all the horse and 3,000 foot, proceed with thee! Supported by these, slay Shakuni!" At this, 700 elephants ridden by combatants armed with the bow, and 5,000 horses, and the valiant Sahadeva, and 3,000 foot-soldiers, and the sons of Draupadi all rushed against Shakuni difficult of defeat in battle. Subala's son, however, of great valour, O king, prevailing over the Pandavas and longing for victory, began to slay their forces from the rear. The horsemen, infuriate with rage, belonging to the Pandavas endued with great activity, penetrated the division of Subala's son, prevailing over the latter's car-warriors. Those heroic horsemen, staying in the midst of their own elephants, covered the large host of Subala's son with showers of shafts. In consequence of thy evil counsels, O king, dreadful was the battle that then ensued in which maces and lances were used and in which heroes only took part. The twang of bow-string was no longer heard there, for all the car-warriors stood as spectators of that fight. At that time no difference could be seen between the contending parties. Both the Kurus and the Pandavas, O bull of Bharata's race, beheld the darts hurled from heroic arms course like meteors through the welkin. The entire welkin, O monarch, shrouded with falling swords of great brightness, seemed to become exceedingly beautiful. The aspect presented, O chief of the Bharatas, by the lances hurled all around, became like that of swarms of locusts in the welkin. Steeds, with limbs bathed in blood in consequence of wounds inflicted by horsemen themselves wounded with arrows, dropped down on all sides in hundreds and thousands. Encountering one another and huddled together, many of them were seen to be mangled and many to vomit blood from their mouths. A thick darkness came there when the troops were covered with a dusty cloud. When that darkness shrouded everything, O king, we beheld those brave combatants, steeds and men, move away from that spot. Others were seen to fall down on the Earth, vomiting blood in profusion. Many combatants, entangled with one another by their locks, could not stir. Many, endued with great strength, dragged one another from the backs of their horses, and encountering one another thus, slew one another like combatants in a wrestling match. Many deprived of life, were borne away on the backs of the steeds. Many men, proud of their valour and inspired with desire of victory, were seen to fall down on the Earth. The Earth became strewn over with hundreds and thousands of combatants bathed in blood, deprived of limbs, and divested of hair. In consequence of the surface of the Earth being covered with elephant-riders and horsemen and slain steeds and combatants with blood-stained armour and others armed with weapons and others who had sought to slay one another with diverse kinds of terrible weapons, all lying closely huddled together in that battle fraught with fearful carnage, no warrior could proceed far on his horse. Having fought for a little while, Shakuni, the son of Subala, O monarch, went away from that spot with the remnant of his cavalry numbering 6,000. Similarly, the Pandava force, covered with blood, and its animals fatigued, moved away from that spot with its remnant consisting of 6,000 horses. The blood-stained horsemen of the Pandava army then, with hearts intent on battle and prepared to lay down their lives, said, "It is no longer possible to fight here on cars; how much more difficult then to fight here on elephants! Let cars proceed against cars, and elephants against elephants! Having retreated, Shakuni is now within his own division. The royal son of Subala will not again come to battle." Then the sons of Draupadi and those infuriate elephants proceeded to the place where the Pancala prince Dhrishtadyumna, that great car-warrior, was. Sahadeva also, when that dusty cloud arose, proceeded alone to where king Yudhishthira was. After all those had gone away, Shakuni, the son of Subala, excited with wrath, once more fell upon Dhrishtadyumna's division and began to strike it. Once more a dreadful battle took place, in which the combatants were all regardless of their lives, between thy soldiers and those of the foe, all of whom were desirous of slaying one another. In that encounter of heroes, the combatants first eyed one another steadfastly, and then rushed, O king, and fell upon one another in hundreds and thousands. In that destructive carnage, heads severed with swords fell down with a noise like that of falling palmyra fruits. Loud also became the noise, making the very hair to stand on end, of bodies falling down on the ground, divested of armour and mangled with weapons and of falling weapons also, O king, and of arms and thighs severed from the trunk. Striking brothers and sons and even sires with keen weapons, the combatants were seen to fight like birds, for pieces of meat. Excited with rage, thousands of warriors, falling upon one another, impatiently struck one another in that battle. Hundreds and thousands of combatants, killed by the weight of slain horsemen while falling down from their steeds, fell down on the field. Loud became the noise of neighing steeds of great fleetness, and of shouting men clad in mail, and of the falling darts and swords, O king, of combatants desirous of piercing the vitals of one another in consequence, O monarch, of thy evil policy. At that time, thy soldiers, overcome with toil, spent with rage, their animals fatigued, themselves parched with thirst mangled with keen weapons, began to turn away from the battle. Maddened with the scent of blood, many became so insensate that they slew friends and foes alike, in fact, every one they got at. Large numbers of Kshatriyas, inspired with desire of victory, were struck down with arrows, O king, and fell prostrate on the Earth. Wolves and vultures and jackals began to howl and scream in glee and make a loud noise. In the very sight of thy son, thy army suffered a great loss. The Earth, O monarch, became strewn with the bodies of men and steeds, and covered with streams of blood that inspired the timid with terror. Struck and mangled repeatedly with swords and battle axes and lances, thy warriors, as also the Pandavas, O Bharata, ceased to approach one another. Striking one another according to the measure of their strength, and fighting to the last drop of their blood, the combatants fell down vomiting blood from their wounds. Headless forms were seen, seizing the hair of their heads (with one hand) and with uplifted swords dyed with blood (in the other). When many headless forms, O king, had thus risen up, when the scent of blood had made the combatants nearly senseless, and when the loud noise had somewhat subsided, Subala's son (once more) approached the large host of the Pandavas, with the small remnant of his horse. At this, the Pandavas, inspired with desires of victory and endued with foot-soldiers and elephants and cavalry, all with uplifted weapons, desirous of reaching the end of the hostilities, the Pandavas, forming a wall, encompassed Shakuni on all sides, and began to strike him with diverse kinds of weapons. Beholding those troops of thine assailed from every side, the Kauravas, with horsemen, foot-soldiers, elephants, and cars, rushed towards the Pandavas. Some foot-soldiers of great courage, destitute of weapons, attacked their foes in that battle, with feet and fists, and brought them down. Car-warriors fell down from cars, and elephant-men from elephants, like meritorious persons falling down from their celestial vehicles upon the exhaustion of their merits. Thus the combatants, engaged with one another in that great battle, slew sires and friends and sons. Thus occurred that battle, O best of the Bharatas, in which no consideration was shown by anybody for anyone, and in which lances and swords and arrows fell fast, on every side and made the scene exceedingly terrible to behold.'" 24 "Sanjaya said, 'When the loud noise of battle had somewhat subsided and the Pandavas had slain large numbers of their foes, Subala's son (once more) came for fight with the remnant of his horsemen numbering seven hundred. Quickly approaching his own soldiers and urging them to battle, he repeatedly said, "You chastisers of foes, fight cheerfully!" And he asked the Kshatriyas present there, saying, "Where is the king, that great car-warrior?" Hearing these words of Shakuni, O bull of Bharata's race, they answered saying, "Yonder stayeth that great car-warrior, the Kuru king, there where that large umbrella of splendour equal to that of the full moon, is visible--there where those car-warriors, clad in mail, are staying--there where that loud noise, deep as the roar of clouds, is being heard! Proceed quickly thither, O king, and thou wilt then see the Kuru monarch!" Thus addressed by those brave warriors, Subala's son Shakuni, O king, proceeded to that spot where thy son was staying, surrounded on all sides by unretreating heroes. Beholding Duryodhana stationed in the midst of that car-force, Shakuni, gladdening all those car-warriors of thine, O king cheerfully said these words unto Duryodhana. Indeed, he said the following words in a manner which showed that he regarded all his purposes to have been already achieved. "Slay, O king, the car-divisions (of the Pandavas)! All their horses have been vanquished by me! Yudhishthira is incapable of being conquered in battle unless one is prepared to lay down his life! When that car-force, protected by the son of Pandu, will have been destroyed, we shall then slay all those elephants and foot-soldiers and others!" Hearing these words of his, thy warriors, inspired with desire of victory, cheerfully rushed towards the Pandava army. With quivers on their backs and bows in their hands, all of them shook their bows and uttered leonine roars. Once more, O king, the fierce twang of bows and the slapping of palms and the whiz of arrows shot with force was heard. Beholding those Kuru combatants approach the Pandava army with uplifted bows, Kunti's son Dhananjaya said unto the son of Devaki these words, "Urge the steeds fearlessly and penetrate this sea of troops! With my keen shafts I shall today reach the end of these hostilities! Today is the eighteenth day, O Janardana, of this great battle that is raging between the two sides! The army of those high-souled heroes, which was literally numberless, hath been nearly destroyed! Behold the course of Destiny! The army of Dhritarashtra's son, O Madhava, which was vast as the ocean, hath, O Achyuta, become, after encountering ourselves, even like the indent caused by a cow's hoof! If peace had been made after Bhishma's fall, O Madhava, everything would have been well! The foolish Duryodhana of weak understanding, however, did not make peace! The words that were uttered by Bhishma, O Madhava, were beneficial and worthy of adoption. Suyodhana, however, who had lost his understanding, did not act according to them. After Bhishma had been struck and thrown down on the Earth, I do not know the reason why the battle proceeded! I regard the Dhartarashtras to be foolish and of weak understanding in every way, since they continued the battle even after the fall of Santanu's son! After that when Drona, that foremost of all utterers of Brahma, fell, as also the son of Radha, and Vikarna, the carnage did not still cease! Alas, when a small remnant only of the (Kaurava) army remained after the fall of that tiger among men, Karna, with his sons, the carnage did not still cease! After the fall of even the heroic Srutayush, of also Jalasandha of Puru's race, and of king Srutayudha, the carnage did not still cease! After the fall of Bhurishrava, of Shalya, O Janardana, and of the Avanti heroes, the carnage did not still cease! After the fall of Jayadratha, of the Rakshasa Alayudha, of Bahlika, and of Somadatta, the carnage did not still cease! After the fall of heroic Bhagadatta, of the Kamboja chief Sadakshina, and of Duhshasana, the carnage did not still cease! Beholding even diverse heroic and mighty kings, each owning extensive territories, slain in battle, the carnage, O Krishna, did not still cease! Beholding even a full Akshauhini of troops slain by Bhimasena in battle, the carnage did not still cease, in consequence of either the folly or the covetousness of the Dhartarashtras! What king born in a noble race, a race especially like that of Kuru, save of course the foolish Duryodhana, would thus fruitlessly wage such fierce hostilities? Who is there, possessed of reason and wisdom and capable of discriminating good from evil, that would thus wage war, knowing his foes to be superior to him in merit, strength, and courage? How could he listen to the counsels of another, when, indeed, he could not make up his mind to make peace with the Pandavas in obedience to the words uttered by thee? What medicine can be acceptable to that person today who disregarded Bhishma the son of Santanu, and Drona, and Vidura, while they urged him to make peace? How can he accept good counsels, who from folly, O Janardana, insolently disregarded his own aged sire as also his own well-meaning mother while speaking beneficial words unto him? It is evident, O Janardana, that Duryodhana took his birth for exterminating his race! His conduct and his policy, it is seen, point to that line, O lord! He will not give us our kingdom yet! This is my opinion, O Achyuta! The high-souled Vidura, O sire, told me many a time that as long as life remained in Dhritarashtra's son, he would never give us our share of the kingdom! Vidura further told me, 'As long also as Dhritarashtra will live, O giver of honours, even that sinful wight will act sinfully towards you! Ye will never succeed in vanquishing Duryodhana without battle!' Even thus, O Madhava, did Vidura of true foresight often speak to me! All the acts of that wicked-souled wight, I now find to be exactly as the high-souled Vidura had said! That person of wicked understanding who, having listened to the beneficial and proper words of Jamadagni's son, disregarded them, should certainly be held as standing in the face of destruction. Many persons crowned with ascetic success said as soon as Duryodhana was born, that the entire Kshatriya order would be exterminated in consequence of that wretch. Those words of the sages, O Janardana, are now being realised, since the Kshatriyas are undergoing almost entire extermination in consequence of Duryodhana's acts! I shall, O Madhava, slay all the warriors today! After all the Kshatriyas will have been slain and the (Kaurava) camp made empty, Duryodhana will then desire battle with us for his own destruction. That will end these hostilities! Exercising my reason, O Madhava, and reflected in my own mind, O thou of Vrishni's race, thinking of Vidura's words, and taking into account the acts of the wicked-souled Duryodhana himself, I have come to this conclusion! Penetrate the Bharata army, O hero, for I shall slay the wicked-souled Duryodhana and his army today with my keen shafts! Slaying this weak army in the very sight of Dhritarashtra's son, I shall today do what is for Yudhishthira's good!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed by Savyasaci, he of Dasarha's race, reins in hand, fearlessly penetrated that vast hostile force for battle. That was a terrible forest of bows (which the two heroes entered). Darts constituted its prickles. Maces and spiked bludgeons were its paths. Cars and elephants were its mighty trees. Cavalry and infantry were its creepers. And the illustrious Keshava, as he entered that forest on that car decked with many banners and pennons, looked exceedingly resplendent. Those white steeds, O king, bearing Arjuna in battle, were seen careering everywhere, urged by him of Dasarha's race! Then that scorcher of foes, Savyasaci, proceeded on his car, shooting hundreds of keen shafts like a cloud pouring showers of rain. Loud was the noise produced by those straight arrows, as also by those combatants that were covered with them in that battle by Savyasaci. Showers of shafts, piercing through the armour of the combatants, fell down on the Earth. Impelled from Gandiva, arrows, whose touch resembled that of Indra's thunder, striking men and elephants and horses, O king, fell in that battle with a noise like that of winged insects. Everything was shrouded with those shafts shot from Gandiva. In that battle, the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, could not be distinguished. The whole world seemed to be filled with gold-winged shafts, steeped in oil, polished by the hands of the smith, and marked with Partha's name. Struck with those keen shafts, and burnt therewith by Partha even as a herd of elephants is burnt with burning brands, the Kauravas became languid and lost their strength. Armed with bow and arrows, Partha, resembling the blazing sun, burnt the hostile combatants in that battle like a blazing fire consuming a heap of dry grass. As a roaring fire of blazing flames and great energy (arising from embers) cast away on the confines of a forest by its denizens, fire consumes those woods abounding with trees and heaps of dry creepers, even so that hero possessed of great activity and fierce energy and endued with prowess of weapons, and having shafts for his flames, quickly burnt all the troops of thy son from wrath. His gold-winged arrows, endued with fatal force and shot with care, could not be baffled by any armour. He had not to shoot a second arrow at man, steed, or elephant of gigantic size. Like the thunder-wielding Indra striking down the Daityas, Arjuna, alone, entering that division of mighty car-warriors, destroyed it with shafts of diverse forms.'" 25 "Sanjaya said, 'Dhananjaya, with his Gandiva, frustrated the purpose of those unreturning heroes struggling in battle and striking their foes. The shafts shot by Arjuna, irresistible and endued with great force and whose touch was like that of the thunder, were seen to resemble torrents of rain poured by a cloud. That army, O chief of the Bharatas, thus struck by Kiritin, fled away in the very sight of thy son. Some deserted their sires and brothers, others deserted their comrades. Some car-warriors were deprived of their animals. Others lost their drivers. Some had their poles or yokes or wheels broken, O king! The arrows of some were exhausted. Some were seen afflicted with arrows. Some, though unwounded, fled in a body, afflicted with fear. Some endeavoured to rescue their sons, having lost all their kinsmen and animals. Some loudly called upon their sires, some upon their comrades and followers. Some fled, deserting their kinsmen, O tiger among men, and brothers and other relatives, O monarch! Many mighty car-warriors, struck with Partha's shafts and deeply pierced therewith, were seen to breathe hard, deprived of their senses. Others, taking them upon their own cars, and soothing them for a while, and resting them and dispelling their thirst by offering them drink, once more proceeded to battle. Some, incapable of being easily defeated in battle, deserting the wounded, once more advanced to battle, desirous of obeying the behests of thy son. Some, having slaked their thirst or groomed their animals, and some, wearing (fresh) armour, O chief of the Bharatas, and some, having comforted their brothers and sons and sires, and placed them in camp, once more came to battle. Some, arraying their cars in the order, O king, of superiors and inferiors, advanced against the Pandavas once more for battle. Those heroes (on their cars) covered with rows of bells, looked resplendent like Daityas and Danavas intent on the conquest of the three worlds. Some, advancing with precipitancy on their vehicles decked with gold, fought with Dhrishtadyumna amid the Pandava divisions. The Pancala prince Dhrishtadyumna, and the great car-warrior Shikhandi, and Satanika, the son of Nakula, fought with the car-force of the enemy. The Pancala prince, then, filled with rage and supported by a large army, rushed against thy angry troops from desire of slaying them. Then thy son, O ruler of men, sped many showers of arrows, O Bharata, at the Pancala prince thus rushing at him. Then, O king, Dhrishtadyumna was quickly pierced with many arrows in his arms and chest by thy son fighting with his bow. Deeply pierced therewith like an elephant with pointed lances, that great bowman then despatched with his shafts the four steeds of Duryodhana to the regions of death. With another broad-headed arrow he next cut off from his trunk the head of his enemy's driver. Then that chastiser of foes, king Duryodhana, having thus lost his car, rode on horse-back and retreated to a spot not remote. Beholding his own army destitute of prowess, thy son, the mighty Duryodhana, O king, proceeded to the place where Subala's son was. When the Kaurava cars were broken, 3,000 gigantic elephants encompassed those car-warriors, the five Pandavas. Encompassed by that elephant force, O Bharata, the five brothers looked beautiful, O tiger among men, like the planets surrounded by the clouds. Then the mighty-armed and white-steeded Arjuna, O king, of sureness of aim and having Krishna for his charioteer, advanced on his car. Surrounded by those elephants huge as hills, he began to destroy those animals with his keen and polished arrows. Each slain with a single arrow, we beheld those huge elephants fallen or falling down, mangled by Savyasaci. The mighty Bhimasena, himself like an infuriated elephant, beholding those elephants, took up his formidable mace and rushed at them, quickly jumping down from his car, like the Destroyer armed with his club. Seeing that great car-warrior of the Pandavas with uplifted mace, thy soldiers became filled with fright and passed urine and excreta. The whole army became agitated upon beholding Bhimasena armed with mace. We then beheld those elephants, huge as hills, running hither and thither, with their frontal globes split open by Bhima with his mace and all their limbs bathed in blood. Struck with Bhima's mace, those elephants, running off from him, fell down with cries of pain, like wingless mountains. Beholding those elephants, many in number, with their frontal globes split open, running hither and thither or falling down, thy soldiers were inspired with fear. Then Yudhishthira also, filled with wrath, and the two sons of Madri, began to slay those elephant-warriors with arrows equipped with vulturine wings. Dhrishtadyumna, after the defeat of the (Kuru) king in battle, and after the flight of the latter from that spot on horse-back, saw that the Pandavas had all been surrounded by the (Kaurava) elephants. Beholding this, O monarch, Dhrishtadyumna, the son of the Pancala king, proceeded towards those elephants, from desire of slaughtering them. Meanwhile, not seeing Duryodhana in the midst of the car-force. Ashvatthama and Kripa, and Kritavarma of the Satwata race, asked all the Kshatriyas there, saying, "Where has Duryodhana gone?" Not seeing the king in that carnage, those great car-warriors all thought thy son to have been slain. Hence, with sorrowful faces, they enquired after him. Some persons told them that after the fall of his driver, he had gone to Subala's son. Other Kshatriyas, present there, who had been exceedingly mangled with wounds, said, "What need is there with Duryodhana? See if he is yet alive! Do you all fight unitedly? What will the king do to you?" Other Kshatriyas, who were exceedingly mangled, who had lost many of their kinsmen, and who were still being afflicted with the arrows of the enemy, said these words in indistinct tones, "Let us slay these forces by whom we are encompassed! Behold, the Pandavas are coming hither, after having slain the elephants!" Hearing these words of theirs, the mighty Ashvatthama, piercing through that irresistible force of the Pancala king, proceeded with Kripa and Kritavarma to the spot where Subala's son was. Indeed, those heroes, those firm bowmen, leaving the car-force, repaired (in search of Duryodhana). After they had gone away, the Pandavas, headed by Dhrishtadyumna, advanced, O king, and began to slay their enemies. Beholding those valiant and heroic and mighty car-warriors cheerfully rushing towards them, thy troops, amongst whom the faces of many had turned pale, became hopeless of their lives. Seeing those soldiers of ours almost deprived of weapons and surrounded (by the foe), I myself, O king, having only two kinds of forces, and becoming reckless of life, joined the five leaders of our army, and fought with the forces of the Pancala prince, posting our men on that spot where Saradwat's son was stationed. We had been afflicted with the shafts of Kiritin. Nevertheless, a fierce battle took place between us and the division of Dhrishtadyumna. At last, vanquished by the latter, all of us retreated from that encounter. I then beheld the mighty car-warrior Satyaki rushing against us. With four hundred cars that hero pursued me in battle. Having escaped with difficulty from Dhrishtadyumna whose steeds had been tired, I fell among the forces of Madhava even as a sinner falleth into hell. There a fierce and terrible battle took place for a short while. The mighty-armed Satyaki, having cut off my armour, became desirous of taking me alive. He seized me while I lay down on the ground insensible. Then within a short while that elephant-force was destroyed by Bhimasena with his mace and Arjuna with his arrows. In consequence of those mighty elephants, huge as hills, falling down on every side with crushed limbs, the Pandava warriors found their way almost entirely blocked up. Then the mighty Bhimasena, O monarch, dragging away those huge elephants, made a way for the Pandavas to come out. Meanwhile, Ashvatthama and Kripa and Kritavarma of the Satwata race, not seeing that chastiser of foes, Duryodhana, amid the car-division, sought for thy royal son. Abandoning the prince of the Pancalas, they proceeded to the spot where Subala's son was anxious to have a sight of the king during that terrible carnage.'" 26 "Sanjaya said, 'After that elephant-division had been destroyed, O Bharata, by the son of Pandu, and while thy army was being thus slaughtered by Bhimasena in battle, beholding the latter, that chastiser of foes, careering like the all-killing Destroyer himself in rage armed with his club, the remnant of thy unslaughtered sons, those uterine brothers, O king, united together at that time when he of Kuru's race, thy son Duryodhana, could not be seen, and rushed against Bhimasena. They were Durmarshana and Srutanta and Jaitra and Bhurivala and Ravi, and Jayatsena and Sujata and that slayer of foes, Durvishaha, and he called Durvimochana, and Dushpradharsha and the mighty-armed Srutarvan. All of them were accomplished in battle. Those sons of thine, uniting together, rushed against Bhimasena and shut him up on all sides. Then Bhima, O monarch, once more mounting on his own car, began to shoot keen shafts at the vital limbs of thy sons. Those sons of thine, covered with arrows by Bhimasena in that dreadful battle, began to drag that warrior like men dragging an elephant from off a cross-way. Excited with rage, Bhimasena, quickly cutting off the head of Durmarshana with a razor-headed arrow, felled it on the Earth. With another broad-headed arrow capable of penetrating every armour, Bhima next slew that mighty car-warrior, thy son Srutanta. Then with the greatest ease, piercing Jayatsena with a cloth-yard shaft, that chastiser of foes, the son of Pandu, felled that scion of Kuru's race from his car. The prince, O king, fell down and immediately expired. At this, thy son Srutarvan, excited with rage, pierced Bhima with a hundred straight arrows winged with vulturine feathers. Then Bhima, inflamed with rage, pierced Jaitra and Ravi and Bhurivala, those three, with three shafts resembling poison or fire. Those mighty car-warriors, thus struck, fell down from their cars, like Kinsukas variegated with flowers in the season of spring cut down (by the axe-man). Then that scorcher of foes, with another broad-headed arrow of great keenness, struck Durvimochana and despatched him to Yama's abode. Thus struck, that foremost of car-warriors fell down on the ground from his car, like a tree growing on the summit of a mountain when broken by the wind. The son of Pandu next struck thy other two sons at the head of their forces, Dushpradharsha and Sujata, each with a couple of arrows in that battle. Those two foremost of car-warriors, pierced with those shafts, fell down. Beholding next another son of thine, Durvishaha, rushing at him, Bhima pierced him with a broad-headed arrow in that battle. That prince fell down from his car in the very sight of all the bowmen. Beholding so many of his brothers slain by the singlehanded Bhima in that battle, Srutarvan, under the influence of rage, rushed at Bhima, stretching his formidable bow decked with gold and shooting a large number of arrows that resembled poison or fire in energy. Cutting off the bow of Pandu's son in that dreadful battle, the Kuru prince pierced the bowless Bhima with twenty arrows. Then Bhimasena, that mighty car-warrior, taking up another bow, shrouded thy son with arrows and addressing him, said, "Wait, Wait!" The battle that took place between the two was beautiful and fierce, like that which had occurred in days of yore between Vasava and the Asura Jambha, O lord! With the keen shafts, resembling the fatal rods of Yama, sped by those two warriors, the Earth, the sky, and all the points of the compass, became shrouded. Then Srutarvan, filled with rage, took up his bow and struck Bhimasena in that battle, O king, with many arrows on his arms and chest. Deeply pierced, O monarch, by thy son armed with the bow, Bhima became exceedingly agitated like the ocean at the full or the new moon. Filled with wrath, Bhima then, O sire, despatched with his arrows the driver and the four steeds of thy son to Yama's abode. Beholding him carless, Pandu's son of immeasurable soul, displaying the lightness of his hands, covered him with winged arrows. The carless Srutarvan then, O king, took up a sword and shield. As the prince, however, careered with his sword and bright shield decked with a hundred moons, the son of Pandu struck off his head from his trunk with a razor-headed arrow and felled it on the Earth. The trunk of that illustrious warrior, rendered headless by means of that razor-headed arrow, fell down from his car, filling the Earth with a loud noise. Upon the fall of that hero, thy troops, though terrified, rushed in that battle against Bhimasena from desire of fighting with him. The valiant Bhimasena, clad in mail, received those warriors rushing quickly at him from among the unslain remnant of that ocean of troops. Approaching him, those warriors encompassed that hero on all sides. Thus surrounded by those warriors of thine, Bhima began to afflict them all with keen shafts like him of a 1,000 eyes afflicting the Asuras. Having destroyed five hundred great cars with their fences, he once more slew seven hundred elephants in that battle. Slaying next 10,000 foot-soldiers with his mighty shafts, as also 800 steeds, the son of Pandu looked resplendent. Indeed, Bhimasena, the son of Kunti, having slain thy sons in battle, regarded his object achieved, O lord, and the purpose of his birth accomplished. Thy troops, at that time, O Bharata, ventured to even gaze at that warrior who was battling in that fashion and slaying thy men in that way. Routing all the Kurus and slaying those followers of theirs, Bhima then slapped his armpits, terrifying the huge elephants with the noise he produced. Then thy army, O monarch, which had lost a very large number of men, and which then consisted of a very few soldiers, became exceedingly cheerless, O king!'" 27 "Sanjaya said, 'Duryodhana, O king, and thy son Sudarsa, the only two of thy children yet unslain, were at that time in the midst of the (Kaurava) cavalry. Beholding Duryodhana staying in the midst of the cavalry, Devaki's son (Krishna) said unto Dhananjaya, the son of Kunti, "A large number of our foes, kinsmen that had received our protection, have been slain. There, that bull of Sini's race is returning, having taken Sanjaya captive! Both Nakula and Sahadeva, O Bharata, are fatigued, having fought with the wretched Dhartarashtras and their followers! Those three, Kripa and Kritavarma and the mighty car-warrior Ashvatthama, have left Duryodhana's side and taken up their position elsewhere! Having slain Duryodhana's troops, the Pancala prince stayeth yonder, endued with great beauty, in the midst of the Prabhadrakas. There, O Partha, Duryodhana stayeth in the midst of his cavalry, with the umbrella held over his head and himself flinging his glances all around! Having rearrayed the (remnant of his) army, he stayeth in the midst of his forces. Slaying this one with thy keen shafts, thou mayst achieve all thy objects! As long as these troops do not fly away beholding thee, in their midst and witnessing also the destruction of their elephant-force, do thou, O chastiser of foes, endeavour to slay Duryodhana! Let somebody go to the Pancala prince and ask him to come hither. The (Kaurava) troops are all tired, O sire! The sinful Duryodhana will never succeed in escaping! Having slain a large number of thy troops in battle, the son of Dhritarashtra wears a proud aspect as if he believes that the Pandavas have been vanquished! Beholding his own troops afflicted and slain by the Pandavas, the Kuru king will certainly come to battle for his own destruction!" Thus addressed by Krishna, Phalguna replied unto him, saying. "Almost all the sons of Dhritarashtra, O giver of honours, have been slain by Bhima! Only these two are yet alive! They, however, O Krishna, shall also meet with destruction today! Bhishma hath been slain, Drona hath been slain, Karna, otherwise called Vaikartana, hath been slain! Shalya, the king of the Madras, hath been slain, and Jayadratha also, O Krishna, hath been slain! Only five hundred horses from the remnant of the troops of Shakuni, the son of Subala, and of cars, only two hundred still remain, O Janardana! Of elephants there remain only a hundred that are formidable, and of foot only 3,000! There remain also Ashvatthama and Kripa and the ruler of the Trigartas and Uluka and Kritavarma of the Satwata race. These, O Madhava, form the remnant of Duryodhana's force! Truly, there is no escape from death for anybody on Earth! Although such a tremendous carnage hast taken place, behold, Duryodhana is still alive! Today king Yudhishthira, however, will be freed from all his foes! None amongst the enemy will escape me, I ween! Even if they be more than men, O Krishna, I shall yet slay all those warriors today, however furious in battle, if only they do not fly away from the field! Filled with wrath in today's battle, I shall, by slaying the prince of Gandhara with my keen shafts, dispel that sleeplessness which the king has suffered from for a long time! I shall win back all those valuable possessions which Subala's son, of wicked conduct, won from us at the gambling match in the assembly! Hearing of the slaughter of their husbands and sons at the hands of the Pandavas in battle, all the ladies of the city called after the elephant will utter loud wails! Today, O Krishna, our task will be ended! Today Duryodhana shall abandon all his blazing prosperity, as also his life-breath. Thou mayest take the foolish son of Dhritarashtra to be dead, O thou of Vrishni's race, if, O Krishna, he does not today fly away from the battle to be waged by me! Those steeds are incapable of enduring the twang of my bow and the slaps of my palms! Proceed thither, O Krishna, for I will slay them!" Thus addressed by Pandu's son of great force of mind, he of Dasarha's race urged his steeds, O king, towards the division of Duryodhana. Beholding that force (within which Duryodhana was), three mighty car-warriors prepared themselves for assailing it, for Bhimasena and Arjuna and Sahadeva, O sire, together proceeded against it with loud leonine roars from desire of slaying Duryodhana. Beholding those three warriors rushing quickly together with uplifted bows, Subala's son proceeded towards that spot against those Pandava foes. Thy son Sudarsana rushed against Bhimasena. Susarman and Shakuni encountered Kiritin. Thy son Duryodhana on horse-back proceeded against Sahadeva. Then thy son, O ruler of men, with great speed and care, forcibly struck Sahadeva's head with a lance. Thus assailed by thy son, Sahadeva sat down on the terrace of his car, all his limbs bathed in blood and himself sighing like a snake. Regaining his senses then, O king, Sahadeva, filled with rage, covered Duryodhana with keen arrows. Kunti's son, Dhananjaya, otherwise called Partha, putting forth his prowess, cut off the heads of many brave combatants on horse-back. Indeed, Partha, with many arrows, destroyed that (cavalry) division. Having felled all the steeds, he then proceeded against the cars of the Trigartas. At this, the great car-warriors of the Trigartas, uniting together, covered Arjuna and Vasudeva with showers of shafts. Assailing Satyakarman with a razor-headed arrow, the son of Pandu, possessed of great fame, cut off his adversary's car-shafts. With another razor-headed arrow, O lord, whetted on stone, that celebrated hero, smiling the while, cut off his antagonist's head adorned with bright gold. He next attacked Satyeshu in the sight of all the warriors, like a hungry lion, O king, in the forest, attacking a deer. Having slain him, Partha pierced Susarman with three arrows and then slew all those car-warriors adorned with ornaments of gold. He then proceeded against Susarman the ruler of Prashthala with great speed, vomiting the virulent poison of his wrath cherished for many long years. Covering him first, O bull of Bharata's race, with a hundred arrows, Arjuna then slew all the steeds of that bowman. Fixing then on his bowstring a mighty arrow that resembled the rod of Yama, Partha, smiling the while, quickly sped it at Susarman, aiming it at him. Sped by that bowman blazing with wrath, that arrow, reaching Susarman, pierced through his heart in that battle. Deprived of life, O monarch, Susarman fell down on the Earth, gladdening all the Pandavas and paining all thy warriors. Having slain Susarman in that battle, Partha then, with his shafts, despatched the five and thirty sons of that king, all of whom were great car-warriors, to Yama's abode. Slaying next all the followers of Susarman with his keen arrows, the mighty car-warrior, Arjuna, proceeded against the remnant of the Bharata host. Bhima, in that battle, filled with rage, O ruler of men, made thy son Sudarsana invisible with his arrows, and smiling the while, cut off from his antagonist's trunk his head with a razor-headed arrow of great sharpness. Deprived of life, the prince fell down on the Earth. Upon the fall of that (Kuru) hero, his followers encompassed Bhima in that battle, shooting showers of whetted arrows at him. Vrikodara, however, with his keen arrows, whose touch resembled that of Indra's thunder, covered that force around him. Within a very short time, Bhima slew them all, O bull of Bharata's race! Whilst they were being thus exterminated, many Kaurava leaders of great might, O Bharata, approached Bhima and began to fight with him. The son of Pandu, O king, covered all of them with his arrows. Similarly, thy warriors, O monarch, covered the great car-warriors of the Pandavas with dense showers of arrows from every side. All the warriors then, of both sides, thus engaged in battle with one another, became exceedingly agitated. Struck by one another, the combatants of both armies, O king, began to fall down, wailing aloud for their (deceased) kinsmen.'" 28 "Sanjaya said, 'During the progress of that battle which was so destructive of men and steeds and elephants, Subala's son, Shakuni, O king, rushed against Sahadeva. The valiant Sahadeva, as Shakuni rushed quickly towards him, sped showers of swift arrows at that warrior as numerous as a flight of insects. At that time, Uluka also encountered Bhima and pierced him with ten arrows, Shakuni, meanwhile, O monarch, having pierced Bhima with three arrows, covered Sahadeva with ninety. Indeed, those heroes, O king, encountering one another in that battle, pierced one another with many keen arrows equipped with Kanka and peacock feathers, winged with gold, whetted on stone, and sped from bow-strings drawn to their ears. Those showers of arrows sped from their bows and arms, O monarch, shrouded all the points of the compass like a thick shower of rain poured from the clouds. Then Bhima, filled with rage, and Sahadeva of great valour, both endued with great might, careered in that battle, making an immense carnage. That army, O Bharata, was covered with hundreds of arrows by those two warriors. In consequence thereof, the welkin on many parts of the field became shrouded with darkness. In consequence, O monarch, of steeds, covered with arrows, dragging after them, as they ran, a large number of slain combatants, the tracks on many parts of the field became entirely blocked up. Covered with steeds slain with their riders, with broken shields and lances, O monarch, and with swords and darts and spears all around, the Earth looked variegated as if strewn with flowers. The combatants, O king, encountering one another, careered in battle, filled with wrath and taking one another's life. Soon the field became strewn with heads, beautiful as the filaments of the lotus, adorned with earrings and graced with faces set with eyes upturned in wrath and lips bit in rage. Covered also, O monarch, with the severed arms of warriors that resembled the trunks of huge elephants, that were adorned with Angadas and cased in leathern fences, and that still held swords and lances and battle-axes, and with headless bodies risen on their feet and bleeding and dancing on the field, and swarming with carnivorous creatures of diverse kinds, the Earth, O lord, presented a frightful aspect! After the Bharata army had been reduced to a small remnant, the Pandavas, filled with delight in that dreadful battle began to despatch the Kauravas to Yama's abode. Meanwhile, the heroic and valiant son of Subala's son very forcibly struck Sahadeva on the head with a lance. Exceedingly agitated, O monarch, in consequence of the blow, Sahadeva sat down on the terrace of his car. Beholding Sahadeva in that plight, the valiant Bhima, filled with rage, O Bharata, held the whole Kuru army in check. With his cloth-yard shaft he pierced hundreds and thousands of hostile warriors, and having pierced them so, that chastiser of foes uttered a leonine roar. Frightened at that roar, all the followers of Shakuni, with their steeds and elephants, precipitately fled away in fear. Beholding them broken, king Duryodhana said unto them, "Stop, ye Kshatriyas, unacquainted with morality! Fight! What is the use of flight? That hero, who, without showing his back casteth away his life breath in battle, achieveth fame here and enjoyeth regions of bliss hereafter!" Thus exhorted by the king, the followers of Subala's son once more advanced against the Pandavas, making death their goal. Awful, O monarch, was the noise made by those rushing warriors, resembling that of the agitated ocean. At this, the field of battle became agitated all around. Beholding those followers of Subala's son thus advancing in battle, the victorious Pandavas, O monarch, proceeded against them. Comforted a little, the invincible Sahadeva, O monarch, pierced Shakuni with ten arrows and his steeds with three. With the greatest ease he then cut off the bow of Subala's son with a number of other arrows. Invincible in battle, Shakuni, however, took up another bow and pierced Nakula with sixty arrows and then Bhimasena with seven. Uluka also, O king, desirous of rescuing his sire in that engagement, pierced Bhima with seven arrows and Sahadeva with seventy. Bhimasena in that encounter pierced Uluka with many keen arrows and Shakuni with four and sixty, and each of the other warriors who fought around them, with three arrows. Struck by Bhimasena with shafts steeped in oil, the Kauravas, filled with rage in that battle, covered Sahadeva with showers of arrows like lightning-charged clouds pouring rain on a mountain-breast. The heroic and valiant Sahadeva then, O monarch, cut off, with a broad-headed arrow, the head of Uluka as the latter advanced against him. Slain by Sahadeva, Uluka, gladdening the Pandavas in that battle, fell down on the earth from his car, all his limbs bathed in blood. Beholding his son slain, Shakuni, O Bharata, with voice choked with tears and drawing deep breaths, recollected the words of Vidura. Having reflected for a moment with tearful eyes, Shakuni, breathing heavily, approached Sahadeva and pierced him with three arrows. Baffling those arrows sped by Subala's son with showers of shafts, the valiant Sahadeva, O monarch, cut off his antagonist's bow in that battle. Seeing his bow cut off, O king, Shakuni, the son of Subala, took up a formidable scimitar and hurled it at Sahadeva. The latter, however, with the greatest ease, O monarch, cut off in twain that terrible scimitar of Subala's son as it coursed towards him in that encounter. Beholding his sword cut in twain, Shakuni took up a formidable mace and hurled it at Sahadeva. That mace also, unable to achieve its object, fell down on the Earth. After this, Subala's son, filled with rage, hurled at the son of Pandu an awful dart that resembled an impending death night. With the greatest ease Sahadeva, in that encounter, cut off, with his gold-decked shafts, into three fragments, that dart as it coursed swiftly towards him. Cut off into fragments, that dart adorned with gold fell down on the earth like a blazing thunderbolt from the firmament, diverging into many flashes. Beholding that dart baffled and Subala's son afflicted with fear, all thy troops fled away in fright. Subala's son himself joined them. The Pandavas then, eager for victory, uttered loud shouts. As regards the Dhartarashtras, almost all of them turned away from the fight. Seeing them so cheerless, the valiant son of Madri, with many 1,000 shafts, checked them in that battle. Then Sahadeva came upon Subala's son as the latter, who was still expectant of victory, was flying away, protected by the excellent cavalry of the Gandharas. Recollecting, O king, that Shakuni, who had fallen to his share, was still alive, Sahadeva, on his car adorned with gold, pursued that warrior. Stringing his formidable bow and drawing it with great force, Sahadeva, filled with rage, pursued the son of Subala and vigorously struck him with many shafts equipped with vulturine feathers and whetted on stone, even like a person striking a mighty elephant with pointed lances. Endued with great energy of mind, Sahadeva, having afflicted his foe thus, addressed him, as if for calling back to mind (his past misdeeds), in these words, "Adhering to the duties of a Kshatriya, fight (with me) and be a man! Thou hadst, O fool, rejoiced greatly in the midst of the assembly, while gambling with dice! Receive now, O thou of wicked understanding, the fruit of that act! All those wicked-souled ones that had ridiculed us then have perished! Only that wretch of his race, Duryodhana, is still alive, and thyself, his maternal uncle! Today I shall slay thee, striking off thy head with a razor-headed arrow like a person plucking a fruit from a tree with a stick!" Saying these words, O monarch, Sahadeva of great strength, that tiger among men, filled with rage, rushed impetuously against Shakuni. Approaching his enemy, the invincible Sahadeva, that foremost of warriors, forcibly drawing his bow and as if burning his foe with wrath, pierced Shakuni with ten arrows and his steeds with four. Then cutting off his umbrella and standard and bow, he roared like a lion. His standard and bow and umbrella thus cut off by Sahadeva, Subala's son was pierced with many arrows in all his vital limbs. Once again, O monarch, the valiant Sahadeva sped at Shakuni an irresistible shower of arrows. Filled with rage, the son of Subala then, single-handed, rushed with speed against Sahadeva in that encounter, desirous of slaying the latter with a lance adorned with gold. The son of Madri, however, with three broad-headed arrows, simultaneously cut off, without losing a moment, that uplifted lance as also the two well-rounded arms of his enemy at the van of battle, and then uttered a loud roar. Endued with great activity, the heroic Sahadeva then, with a broad-headed arrow, made of hard iron, equipped with wings of gold, capable of penetrating every armour, and sped with great force and care, cut off from his trunk his enemy's head. Deprived of his head by the son of Pandu with that gold-decked arrow of great sharpness and splendour like the sun's, Subala's son fell down on the earth in that battle. Indeed, the son of Pandu, filled with rage, struck off that head which was the root of the evil policy of the Kurus, with that impetuous shaft winged with gold and whetted on stone. Beholding Shakuni lying headless on the ground and all his limbs drenched with gore, thy warriors, rendered powerless with fear, fled away on all sides with weapons in their hands. At that time, thy sons, with cars, elephants, horse and foot entirely broken, heard the twang of Gandiva and fled away with colourless faces, afflicted with fear and deprived of their senses. Having thrown down Shakuni from his car, the Pandavas, O Bharata, became filled with delight. Rejoicing with Keshava among them, they blew their conchs in that battle, gladdening their troops. All of them, with glad hearts, worshipped Sahadeva, and said, "By good luck, O hero, Shakuni of wicked soul, that man of evil course, hath, with his son, been slain by thee!"'" 29 (Hrada-pravesa Parva) "Sanjaya said, 'After this, the followers of Subala's son, O monarch, became filled with rage. Prepared to lay down their lives in that dreadful battle, they began to resist the Pandavas. Resolved to aid Sahadeva in his victory, Arjuna, as also Bhimasena possessed of great energy and resembling an angry snake of virulent poison in aspect, received those warriors. With his Gandiva, Dhananjaya baffled the purpose of those warriors, who, armed with darts and swords and lances, desired to slay Sahadeva. Vibhatsu, with his broad-headed arrows, cut off the steeds, the heads, and the arms, with weapons in grasp of those rushing combatants. The steeds of those foremost of heroes endued with activity, struck by Savyasaci, fell down on the earth, deprived of their lives. King Duryodhana, beholding that carnage of his own troops, O lord, became filled with rage. Assembling together the remnant of his cars which still numbered many hundreds, as also his elephants and horse and foot, O scorcher of foes, thy son said these words unto those warriors, "Encountering all the Pandavas with their friends and allies, in this battle, and the prince of Pancala also with his own troops, and slaying them quickly, turn back from the fight!" Respectfully accepting that command of his, those warriors, difficult of defeat in battle, proceeded once more against the Parthas in that battle, at the behest of thy son. The Pandavas, however, covered with their arrows resembling snakes of virulent poison, all those warriors, forming the remnant of the Kaurava army, that thus rushed quickly against them in that dreadful battle. That army, O chief of the Bharatas, as it came to battle, was in a moment exterminated by those high-souled warriors, for it failed to obtain a protector. In consequence of the (Kaurava) steeds running hither and thither that were all covered with the dust raised by the army, the cardinal and the subsidiary points of the compass could not be distinguished. Many warriors, issuing out of the Pandava array, O Bharata, slew thy troops in a moment in that battle. Eleven Akshauhinis, O Bharata, of troops had been assembled for thy son! All those, O lord, were slain by the Pandus and the Srinjayas! Amongst those thousands upon thousands of high-souled kings on thy side, only Duryodhana now, O monarch, exceedingly wounded, was seen to be alive, casting his eyes on all sides, and seeing the earth empty, himself destitute of all his troops while the Pandavas, filled with joy in that battle, were roaring aloud in consequence of the accomplishment of all their objects. Duryodhana, O monarch, unable to endure the whiz of the shafts shot by those high-souled heroes, became stupefied! Destitute of troops and animals, he set his heart on retreat from the field.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'When my troops were slain and our camp made entirely empty, what was the strength, O Suta, of the troops that still remained to the Pandavas? I desire to know this. Therefore, tell me, O Sanjaya, for thou art skilled (in narration). Tell me also, O Sanjaya, that which was done by my son, the wicked Duryodhana, that lord of the earth, the sole survivor of so many men, when he saw his army exterminated.' "Sanjaya continued, '2,000 cars, 700 elephants, 5,000 horse, and 10,000 foot, this was the remnant, O monarch, of the mighty host of the Pandavas. Taking care of this force, Dhrishtadyumna waited in that battle. Meanwhile, O chief of the Bharatas, king Duryodhana, that foremost of car-warriors, saw not in that battle a single warrior on his side. Beholding his enemies roaring aloud and witnessing the extermination of his own army, that lord of the earth, Duryodhana, without a companion, abandoned his slain steed, and fled from the field with face turned eastwards. That lord of eleven Akshauhinis, thy son Duryodhana, of great energy, taking up his mace, fled on foot towards a lake. Before he had proceeded far on foot, the king recalled the words of the intelligent and virtuous Vidura. Without doubt, this had been foreseen by Vidura of great wisdom, this great carnage of Kshatriyas and of ourselves in battle. Reflecting on this, the king, with heart burning in grief at having witnessed the extermination of his army, desired to penetrate into the depths of that lake. The Pandavas, O monarch, with Dhrishtadyumna at their head, filled with rage, rushed against (the small remnant of) thy army. With his Gandiva, Dhananjaya baffled the purpose of the (Kaurava) troops, who, armed with darts and swords and lances, were uttering loud roars. Having with his sharp shafts slain those troops with their allies and kinsmen, Arjuna, as he stood on his car having white steeds yoked unto it, looked exceedingly beautiful. Upon the fall of Subala's son along with horse, cars and elephants, thy army looked like a large forest laid low (by the wind). In Duryodhana's army then, O monarch, which had numbered many hundred thousands of warriors, not another great car-warrior was seen to be alive, save the heroic son of Drona, and Kritavarma, and Kripa the son of Gotama, O monarch, and that lord of the earth, thy son! Dhrishtadyumna, seeing me, laughingly addressed Satyaki, saying, 'What is the use of seizing this one? Nothing will be gained by keeping him alive.' Hearing these words of Dhrishtadyumna, the grandson of Sini, that great car-warrior, uplifting his sharp sword, prepared to slay me. Just at that juncture, the Island-born Krishna of great wisdom (Vyasa), coming there, said, "Let Sanjaya be dismissed alive! By no means should he be slain!" Hearing these words of the Island-born, the grandson of Sini, joined his hands, and then, setting me free said unto me, "Peace to thee, O Sanjaya, thou mayest go hence!" Permitted by him, I myself then, putting off my armour and making over my weapons, set out on the evening on the road leading to the city, my limbs bathed in blood. After I had come about two miles, O monarch, I beheld Duryodhana, standing alone, mace in hand, and exceedingly mangled. His eyes were full of tears and therefore he could not see me. I stood cheerlessly before him. He looked accordingly at me without recognising me. Beholding him standing alone on the field and indulging in grief, I also, overwhelmed with sorrow, succeeded not for a little while to speak a single word. Then I said unto him everything about my own capture and my release through the grace of the Island-born. Having reflected for a moment, and regained his senses, he enquired of me about his brothers and his troops. I had seen everything with my eyes and therefore told him everything, that his brothers had all been slain and that all his troops had been exterminated. I told the king that we had at that time only three car-warriors left alive, for the Island-born had said so unto me when I set out (from the place where the Pandavas were). Drawing deep breaths and looking repeatedly at me, thy son touched me with his hand and said, "Except thee, O Sanjaya, there is none else that liveth, amongst those engaged in this battle! I do not see another (on my side), while the Pandavas have their allies living! Say, O Sanjaya, unto that lord, the blind king Dhritarashtra, that his son Duryodhana hath entered the depths of a lake! Destitute of friends such as those (I lately had), deprived of sons and brothers, and seeing his kingdom taken by the Pandavas, who is there like me that would desire to live? Say all this unto the king and tell him further that I have escaped with life from that dreadful battle, and that, alive, though exceedingly wounded, I shall rest within the depths of this lake." Having said these words unto me, O monarch, the king entered that lake. That ruler of men, by his power of illusion, then charmed the waters of that lake, making a space for him within them. After he had entered that lake, I myself, without anybody on my side, saw those three car-warriors (of our army) coming together to that spot with their tired animals. They were Kripa, the son of Saradwat, and the heroic Ashvatthama, that foremost of car-warriors, and Kritavarma of Bhoja's race. Mangled with shafts, all of them came together to that spot. Beholding me, they all urged their steeds to greater speed and coming up to me, said, "By good luck, O Sanjaya, thou livest yet!" All of them then enquired after thy son, that ruler of men, saying, 'Is our king Duryodhana still alive, O Sanjaya?' I then told them that the king was well in body. I also told them everything that Duryodhana had said unto me. I also pointed out to them the lake that the king had entered. Then Ashvatthama, O king, having heard those words from me, cast his eyes on that extensive lake and began to wail in grief, saying, "Alas, alas, the king knows not that we are still alive! With him amongst us, we are still quite able to fight with our foes!" Those mighty car-warriors, having wept there for a long time, fled away at sight of the sons of Pandu. Those three car-warriors that formed the remnant of our army took me up on the well-adorned car of Kripa, and then proceeded to the Kuru camp. The sun had set a little before. The troops forming the outposts of the camp, learning that all thy sons had been slain, wept aloud. Then, O monarch, the old men that had been appointed to look after the ladies of the royal household proceeded towards the city, taking the princesses after them. Loud were the wails uttered by those weeping ladies when they heard of the destruction of the whole army. The women, O king, crying ceaselessly, caused the earth to resound with their voices like a flight of she-ospreys. They tore their bodies with nails and struck their heads with their hands, and untied their braids, indulging all the while in loud cries. Filling the air with sounds such as "Oh!" and "Alas!" and beating their breasts, they cried aloud and wept and uttered loud shrieks, O monarch! Then the friends of Duryodhana, deeply afflicted and made voiceless by their tears, set out for the city, taking the ladies of the royal household with them. The camp-guards quickly fled towards the city, taking with them many white beds overlaid with costly coverlets. Others, placing their wives on cars drawn by mules, proceeded towards the city. Those ladies, O monarch, who, while in their houses could not be seen by the very sun, were now, as they proceeded towards the city, exposed to the gaze of the common people. Those women, O chief of the Bharata's race, who were very delicate, now proceeded with speed towards the city, having lost their near ones and kinsmen. The very cow-herds and shepherds and common men, filled with panic and afflicted with the fear of Bhimasena, fled towards the city. Even these were filled with a great fear of the Parthas. Looking at one another, all of them fled towards the city. During the progress of that general flight attended with such circumstances of fear, Yuyutsu, deprived of his senses by grief, thought upon what he should do in view of the emergency that had come. "Duryodhana hath been vanquished in battle by the Pandavas of terrible prowess! He had eleven Akshauhinis of troops under him! All his brothers have been slain! All the Kauravas, headed by Bhishma and Drona, have perished! Through the influence of Destiny, only I have been saved! All those that were in the Kuru camp have fled! Alas, they are flying on all sides, deprived of energy and destitute of protectors! Such a sight had never been seen before! Afflicted with sorrow, with eyes anxious in fear, they are flying away on all sides like a herd of deer, looking at one another! Those amongst the counsellors of Duryodhana that are yet alive have fled towards the city, taking with them the ladies of the royal household! I think, O lord, that the time hath come when I also should enter the city with them, after taking the permission of Yudhishthira and Vasudeva!" For this purpose that mighty-armed prince presented himself before both those heroes. King Yudhishthira, who is always compassionate, became highly pleased with him. The mighty-armed Pandava embraced that child of a Vaisya mother and dismissed him affectionately. Riding upon his own car, he urged his steeds to great speed. He then supervised the removal of the ladies of the royal household to the city. The sun was setting. With those ladies, Yuyutsu entered the city of Hastinapura, with tearful eyes and with voice choked in grief. He then saw Vidura of great wisdom, sitting with tearful eyes. He had come away from Dhritarashtra, his heart having been afflicted with great sorrow. Bowing down unto Vidura, he stood before him. Devoted to truth, Vidura addressed him, saying, "By good luck, O son, thou livest amid this general destruction of the Kurus! Why, however, hast thou come without king Duryodhana in thy company? Tell me in detail the cause of this!" Yuyutsu then said, "After the fall of Shakuni, O sire, with all his kinsmen and friends, king Duryodhana abandoning the steed he rode, fled away, in fear towards the east. After the king had fled away, all the people in the (Kaurava) encampment, agitated with fear, fled towards the city. Then the protectors of the ladies, placing the wives of the king, as also those of his brothers, on vehicles, fled away in fear. Obtaining the permission of king Yudhishthira and Keshava, I set out for Hastinapura, for protecting the people thus flying away!" Hearing these words spoken by the son of Dhritarashtra's Vaisya wife, Vidura of immeasurable soul, conversant with every usage and feeling that was proper at that hour, applauded the eloquent Yuyutsu. And he said, "Thou hast acted properly, having regard for what has come, in view of this destruction of all the Bharatas of which thou art speaking! Thou hast also, from compassion, maintained the honour of thy race! By good luck, we behold thee come back with life from this terrible battle that is so destructive of heroes, like creatures beholding the sun possessed of blazing glory! Thou, O son, are now in every way the sole staff of the blind monarch, bereft of foresight, afflicted with calamity, struck by Destiny, and who, though repeatedly dissuaded, could not abstain from pursuing his evil policy. Take rest here for this day! Tomorrow thou mayst return to Yudhishthira!" Having said these words, Vidura, with tearful eyes, took leave of Yuyutsu and entered the abode of the king, which resounded with cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" uttered by citizens and villagers afflicted with woe. The cheerless mansion seemed to have lost all its beauty; comfort and happiness seemed to have deserted it. It was all empty and pervaded by disorder. Already filled with sorrow, Vidura's grief increased at that sight. Conversant with every duty, Vidura, with a sorrowful heart, entered the palace, drawing deep breaths. As regards Yuyutsu, he passed that night in his own abode. Afflicted with woe, he failed to obtain any joy at the panegyrics with which he was greeted. He passed the time, thinking of the terrible destruction of the Bharatas at one another's hands.'" 30 "Dhritarashtra said, 'After all the Kaurava troops had been slain by the sons of Pandu on the field of battle, what did those survivors of my army, Kritavarma and Kripa and the valiant son of Drona do? What also did the wicked-souled king Duryodhana then do?' "Sanjaya said, 'After the flight of the ladies of those high-souled Kshatriyas, and after the (Kaurava) camp had become entirely empty, the three car-warriors (thou hast mentioned) became filled with anxiety. Hearing the shouts of the victorious sons of Pandu, and beholding the camp deserted towards the evening, those three warriors of our side, desirous of rescuing the king, and unable to stay on the field, proceeded towards the lake. Yudhishthira, of virtuous soul, with his brothers in that battle, felt great joy and wandered over the field from desire of slaying Duryodhana. Filled with wrath, the Pandavas, desirous of victory, searched for thy son. Though, however, they looked very carefully for him, they failed to discover the (Kuru) king. Mace in hand, he had fled with great speed from the field of battle and penetrated into that lake, having by the aid of his powers of illusion, solidified its waters. When at last the animals of the Pandavas became very much tired, the latter proceeded to their camp and rested there with their soldiers. After the Parthas had retired to their camp, Kripa and Drona's son and Kritavarma of the Satwata race, slowly proceeded towards that lake. Approaching the lake within which lay the king, they addressed that invincible ruler of men asleep within the water, saying, "Arise, O king, and fight with us against Yudhishthira! Either obtaining victory enjoy the earth, or, slain, proceed to heaven! The forces of the Pandavas also, O Duryodhana, have all been slain by thee! Those amongst them that are yet alive have been exceedingly mangled! They will not be able, O monarch, to bear thy impetuosity, especially when thou shalt be protected by us! Arise, therefore, O Bharata!" "'Duryodhana said, "By good luck, I see you, ye bulls among men, come back with life from this destructive battle between the Pandavas and the Kauravas! After we have rested a while and dispelled our fatigue, we shall encounter the enemy and conquer him! Ye also are tired and I myself am exceedingly mangled! The army of the Pandavas is swelling with might! For these reasons, I do not like to fight now! These exhortations on your part, ye heroes, are not at all wonderful, for your hearts are noble! Your devotion also to me is great! This, however, is not the time for prowess! Resting for this one night, I shall, on the morrow, join you and fight with the foe! In this there is no doubt!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed, the son of Drona replied unto the king, who was invincible in battle, saying, "Arise, O king, blessed be thou, we shall yet vanquish the foe! I swear by all my religious acts, by all the gifts I have made, by truth itself, and my silent meditations, O king, that I shall today slay the Somakas! Let me not obtain the delight resulting from the performance of sacrifices, that delight which is felt by all pious men, if this night passes away without my slaying the Pandavas in battle! Without slaying all the Pancalas, I will not, O lord, put off my armour! I tell thee this truly. Believe me, O ruler of men!" While they were thus conversing, a number of hunters came there. Fatigued with the weight of meat they carried, they came there, not of any set purpose, for slaking their thirst. Those huntsmen, O lord, used every day, to procure, with great regard, a basketful of meat for Bhimasena, O king! As they sat concealed on the banks of that lake, those men heard every word of that conversation between Duryodhana and those warriors. Finding the Kuru king unwilling to fight, those great bowmen, themselves desirous of battle, began to urge him greatly to adopt their counsels. Seeing those car-warriors of the Kaurava army, and understanding that the king, unwilling to fight, was staying within the waters, and hearing that conversation between those heroes and their master staying within the depths of the lake, indeed, O monarch, the huntsmen, clearly perceiving that it was Duryodhana who was staying within the lake, formed a resolution. A little while before, the son of Pandu, while searching for the king, had met those men and asked them about the whereabouts of Duryodhana. Recollecting the words that the son of Pandu had said, those hunters, O king, whisperingly said unto one another, "We will discover Duryodhana (unto the Pandavas). The son of Pandu will then give us wealth! It is evident to us that the celebrated king Duryodhana is here! Let us then, all of us, proceed to the spot where king Yudhishthira is, for telling him that the vindictive Duryodhana is concealed within the waters of this lake! Let us also, all of us, inform that great bowman, the intelligent Bhimasena, that the son of Dhritarashtra is concealed here within the waters of this lake! Gratified with us, he will give us much wealth! What need of fatiguing ourselves, day after day, with procuring meat and weakening ourselves with such toil?" Having said these words, those huntsmen, filled with joy and longing for wealth, took up their baskets of meat and proceeded towards the (Pandava) camp. Possessed of sure aim and skilled in smiting, the Pandavas, O monarch, not seeing in battle Duryodhana, who was then concealed, (were resting in their camp). Desirous of reaching the end of that sinful wight's evil policy, they had despatched spies in all directions on the field of battle. All the soldiers, however, that had been despatched on that mission returned to the camp together and informed king Yudhishthira the just that no trace could be found of king Duryodhana. Hearing these words of the returned messengers, O bull of Bharata's race, king Yudhishthira became filled with great anxiety and began to breathe heavily. While the Pandavas, O bull of Bharata's race, were staying in such cheerlessness, those huntsmen, O lord, having come with great speed from the banks of that lake, arrived at the camp, filled with joy at having discovered Duryodhana. Though forbidden, they still entered the camp, in the very sight of Bhimasena. Having approached that mighty son of Pandu, Bhimasena, they represented everything unto him about what they had seen and heard. Then Vrikodara, that scorcher of foes, O king, giving them much wealth, represented everything unto king Yudhishthira the just, saying, "Duryodhana, O king, hath been discovered by the huntsmen that supply me with meat! He, O king, for whom thou grievest now lies within a lake whose waters have been solidified by him!" Hearing these agreeable words of Bhimasena, O monarch, Kunti's son, Ajatasatru, became, with all his brothers, filled with joy. Having learnt that the mighty bowman Duryodhana had penetrated into the waters of a lake, the king proceeded thither with great speed, with Janardana at his head. Then a tumultuous noise arose, O monarch, from among the Pandavas and the Pancalas all of whom were filled with joy. The warriors uttered leonine roars, O bull of Bharata's race, and shouted loudly. All the Kshatriyas, O king, proceeded with great speed towards that lake called Dvaipayana. The rejoicing Somakas all around loudly and repeatedly exclaimed, "The sinful son of Dhritarashtra has been found!" The noise made by the cars of those impetuous warriors who proceeded with great speed, became very loud, O monarch, and touched the heavens. Although their animals were tired, all of them still proceeded with speed behind king Yudhishthira who was bent upon finding out Duryodhana. Arjuna, and Bhimasena, and the two sons of Madri by Pandu, and the Pancala prince Dhrishtadyumna, and the unvanquished Shikhandi, and Uttamaujas, and Yudhamanyu, and the mighty car-warrior Satyaki, and the (five) sons of Draupadi, and those amongst the Pancalas, O king, that were yet alive, and all the Pandavas, and all their elephants, and foot-soldiers by hundreds upon hundreds, all proceeded with Yudhishthira. Possessed of great valour, king Yudhishthira the just, O monarch, arrived at the lake known by the name of Dvaipayana within which Duryodhana then was. Wide as the ocean itself, its aspect was agreeable and its waters were cool and transparent. Solidifying the waters by means of his power of illusion, by, indeed, a wonderful method, thy son Duryodhana, O Bharata, happened to be within that lake. Indeed, within those waters lay, O lord, that king, armed with his mace, who, O ruler of men, could not be vanquished by any man! Staying within the waters of that lake, king Duryodhana heard that tumultuous noise (of the Pandava army) which resembled the very roar of the clouds. Yudhishthira then, O king, with his brothers repaired to that lake from desire of slaying Duryodhana. Raising a thick dust, the son of Pandu caused the earth to tremble with the sound of his car-wheels and the loud blare of his conch. Hearing the noise made by the army of Yudhishthira, those great car-warriors, Kritavarma and Kripa and the son of Drona, said these words unto the Kuru king, "Filled with joy and longing for victory, the Pandavas are coming hither! We will, therefore, leave this place. Let it be known to thee!" Hearing those words of these heroes endued with great activity, he answered them, saying, "So be it," and remained (as before) within the waters, having, O lord, solidified them by his powers of illusion. Those car-warriors headed by Kripa, filled with grief, took leave of the king, O monarch, and went away to a place far removed from that spot. Having proceeded far, they beheld a banyan, O sire, under whose shade they stopped, greatly tired, and exceedingly anxious about the king and indulging in such thoughts as these, "The mighty son of Dhritarashtra, having solidified the waters of the lake, lay stretched at the bottom. The Pandavas have reached that spot, from desire of battle. How will the battle take place? What will become of the king?" Thinking of these things, O king, those heroes, Kripa and the others, liberated their horses from their cars and prepared to rest there for some time.'" 31 "Sanjaya said, 'After those three car-warriors had left that spot, the Pandavas arrived at that lake within which Duryodhana was resting himself. Having reached the banks of the Dvaipayana lake, O chief of Kuru's race, they beheld that receptacle of waters enchanted by thy son. Then Yudhishthira, addressing Vasudeva, said, "Behold, the son of Dhritarashtra hath applied his power of illusion to these waters! Having enchanted the waters, he lieth within them. He can have now no fear (of injury) from man! Having invoked a celestial illusion, he is now within the waters! By an act of deception, that wight conversant with every deception hath sought this refuge! He shall not, however, escape me with life! Even if the wielder of the thunderbolt himself aid him in battle, people, O Madhava, shall yet behold him slain today!" "'Vasudeva said, "With thy own powers of illusion, O Bharata, destroy this illusion of Duryodhana who is an adept in it! One conversant with illusion should be slain with illusion! This is the truth, O Yudhishthira! With acts and means and applying thy power of illusion to these waters, slay, O chief of the Bharatas, this Suyodhana, who is the very soul of illusion! With acts and means Indra himself slew the Daityas and the Danavas! Vali himself was bound by that high-souled one (Upendra), with the aid of many acts and means! The great Asura Hiranyaksha, as also that other one, Hiranyakasipu, was slain by the aid of many acts and means. Without doubt, O king, Vritra also was slain by the aid of acts! Similarly was the Rakshasa Ravana of Pulastya's race, with his relatives and followers, slain by Rama! Relying upon acts and contrivances, do thou also display thy powers! Those two ancient Daityas, Taraka and Viprachitti of great energy, were in ancient times, O king, slain by the aid of acts and means! Similarly, Vatapi and Ilwala, and Trisiras, O lord, and the Asuras Sunda and Upasunda, were all slain by the aid of means! Indra himself enjoys heaven by the aid of acts and means! Acts are very efficacious, O king, and nothing else so, O Yudhishthira! Daityas and Danavas and Rakshasas and kings had been slain by the aid of acts and means. Do thou take therefore, the help of act!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed by Vasudeva, Pandu's son of rigid vows, smiling the while, addressed, O monarch, thy son of great might, who, O Bharata, was then within the waters of that lake, saying, "Why, O Suyodhana, hast thou entered these waters, after having caused all the Kshatriyas to perish and after having, O king, caused thy own race to be annihilated? Why hast thou entered into this lake today, wishing to save thy own life? Arise, O king, and fight us, O Suyodhana! Where, O foremost of men, hath that pride and that sense of honour which thou hadst now gone, since, O king, thou hast enchanted these waters and art now lying within them? All men speak of thee in assemblies as a hero. All that, however, is entirely untrue, I think, since thou art now concealed within these waters! Arise, O king, and fight, for thou art a Kshatriya born of a noble race! Thou art Kauraveya in particular! Remember thy birth! How canst thou boast of thy birth in Kuru's race when thou concealest thyself within the depths of this lake, having fled away from battle in fear? This is not the eternal duty of a Kshatriya, staying away from battle! Flight from battle, O king, is not the practice of those that are honourable, nor does it lead to heaven! How is it that without having attained to the end of this war, inspired though thou wert with the desire of victory, thou stayest now within this lake, after having caused and witnessed the slaughter of thy sons and brothers and sires and relatives and friends and maternal uncles and kinsmen? Ever boastful of thy courage, thou art, however, not a hero! Falsely dost thou describe thyself, O Bharata, when thou sayst in the hearing of all men that thou art a hero, O thou of wicked understanding! They that are heroes never fly away at sight of foes! Or, tell us, O hero, about (the nature of) that courage in consequence of which thou hast fled from battle! Arise, O prince, and fight, casting off thy fears! Having caused all thy troops and thy brothers to be slain, O Suyodhana, thou shouldst not, if thou art inspired with righteous motives, think now of saving thy life! One like thee, O Suyodhana, that has adopted Kshatriya duties, should not act in this way! Relying upon Karna, as also upon Shakuni the son of Subala, thou hadst regarded thyself immortal and hadst, from folly, failed to understand thy own self! Having perpetrated such grievous sin, fight now, O Bharata! How dost that flight from battle recommend itself to one like thee? Surely, thou forgettest thyself! Where is that manliness of thine, O sire, and where, O Suyodhana, is that pride cherished by thee! Where hath that prowess of thine now gone, and where also that swelling and great energy which thou hadst? Where is that accomplishment of thine in weapons? Why dost thou lie within this lake now? Arise, O Bharata, and fight, observing the duties of a Kshatriya! Either rule the wide earth after vanquishing us, or sleep, O Bharata, on the bare ground, slain by us! Even this is thy highest duty, as laid down by the illustrious Creator himself! Act as it has been laid down truly in the scriptures, and be a king, O great car-warrior!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus addressed, O monarch, by the intelligent son of Dharma, thy son answered him from within the waters in these words. "'Duryodhana said, "It is not at all a matter of surprise, O king, that fear should enter the hearts of living creatures. As regards myself, however, O Bharata, I have not fled from the field of battle actuated by the fear of life! My car was destroyed, my quivers were gone, and my Parshni drivers were killed! I was alone, without a single follower to stand by me in battle! It was for this that I desired a little rest! It was not for the sake of saving my life, it was not from fear, it was not from grief, O king, that I entered these waters! It was only in consequence of fatigue that I did so! Do thou, O son of Kunti, rest a while with those that follow thee! Rising from this lake I will certainly fight all of you in battle!" "'Yudhishthira said, 'All of us have rested sufficiently. For a long while we were engaged in a search after thee! Rise then, even now, O Suyodhana, and give us battle! Either slaying the Parthas in battle make this kingdom that swelleth with prosperity thy own, or slain by us in battle, proceed to those regions that are reserved for heroes!" "'Duryodhana said, "They amongst the Kurus, O son of Kurus' race, for whose sake I desired sovereignty, that is, those brothers of mine, O king, all lie dead on the field! I do not, again, like to enjoy any longer the earth that is now shorn of wealth and reft of superior Kshatriyas, and that hath, therefore, become like a widowed lady! I, however, still hope to vanquish thee, O Yudhishthira, after curbing the pride, O bull of Bharata's race, of the Pancalas and the Pandus! There is, however, no longer any need for battle when Drona and Karna have been quieted and when our grandsire Bhishma hath been slain! This shorn earth, O king, now exists for thee! What king is there that would like to rule a kingdom divested of friends and allies? Having caused friends such as I had to be slain and even sons and brothers and sires, and seeing my kingdom wrested by you, who is there like myself that would like to live? Clad in deer-skins I would retire into the woods! I have no desire for kingdom, deprived as I am of friends and allies, O Bharata! Reft almost entirely of friends and allies, of heroes and elephants, this earth exists for thee, O king! Do thou enjoy her now cheerfully! As for myself, clad in deerskins, I shall go to the woods! Friendless as I am, I have no desire, O lord, for even life! Go, O monarch, and rule the earth destitute of lords, without warriors, reft of wealth, and without citadels, as thou choosest!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Hearing these words of poignant grief the illustrious Yudhishthira addressed thy son Duryodhana who was still within those waters, saying, "Do not utter such ravings of sorrow, O sire, from within the waters! I do not, like Shakuni, feel any compassion for thee, O king, for such words as these! Thou mayest now, O Suyodhana, be willing to make a gift of the earth to me. I, however, do not wish to rule the earth thus given by thee! I cannot sinfully accept this earth from thee! Acceptance of a gift, O king, is not the duty laid down for a Kshatriya! I do not, therefore, wish to have the wide earth thus given away by thee! I shall, on the other hand, enjoy the earth after vanquishing thee in battle! Thou art now the lord of the earth! Why then dost thou desire to make a gift of that over which thou hast no dominion? Why, O king, didst thou not then give us the earth when we, observant of the rules of righteousness and desirous of the welfare of our race, had begged thee for our portion? Having first refused the request of the mighty Krishna, why dost thou now desire to give away the earth? What is this folly of thine? What king is there, who, assailed by foes, would wish to give away his kingdom? O son of Kuru's race, today thou art not competent to give away the earth! Why then dost thou wish to make a gift of that over which thou hast no power? Vanquishing me in battle, rule thou this earth! Thou didst not formerly agree to give me even that much of the earth which would be covered by the point of a needle! How then, O monarch, dost thou make me a gift of the whole earth? How is it that thou, who couldst not formerly abandon even that much of land which the point of a needle would cover, now wishest to abandon the whole earth? What fool is there that would, after having obtained such prosperity and ruled the entire earth, think of making a gift of that earth to his enemies? Stupefied by folly, thou seest not the impropriety of this! Although thou desirest to give away the earth, thou shalt not yet escape me with life! Either rule the earth after having vanquished us, or go to regions of blessedness after being slain by us! If both of us, that is, thyself and myself, be alive, then all creatures will remain in doubt about to whom the victory belongs. Thy life, O thou of limited foresight, now depends upon me! If I like, I can suffer thee to live, but thou art not capable of protecting thy own life! Thou hadst at one time especially endeavoured to burn us to death and to take our lives by means of snakes and other kinds of poison and by drowning us! We were also wronged by thee, O king, by the deprivation of our kingdom, by the cruel words spoken by thee, and by thy maltreatment of Draupadi! For these reasons, O wretch, thy life must be taken! Rise, rise, and fight us! That will benefit thee!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'In this strain, O king, those heroes, the Pandavas, flushed with victory, repeatedly spoke there (rebuking and mocking Duryodhana).'" 32 (Gada-yuddha Parva) "Dhritarashtra said, 'Thus admonished (by his foes), how, indeed, did that scorcher of enemies, my heroic and royal son, who was wrathful by nature, then behave? He had never before listened to admonitions such as these! He had, again, been treated by all with the respect due to a king! He, who had formerly grieved to stand in the shade of an umbrella, thinking he had taken another's shelter, he, who could not endure the very effulgence of the sun in consequence of his sensitive pride, how could he endure these words of his foes? Thou hast, with thy own eyes, O Sanjaya, seen the whole earth, with even her Mlecchas and nomad tribes, depend upon his grace! Rebuked thus at that spot by the sons of Pandu in particular, while lying concealed in such a solitary place after having been deprived of his followers and attendants, alas, what answer did he make unto the Pandavas upon hearing such bitter and repeated taunts from his victorious enemies? Tell me everything, O Sanjaya, about it!' "Sanjaya continued, 'Thus rebuked, O monarch, by Yudhishthira and his brothers, thy royal son, lying within those waters, O king of kings, heard those bitter words and became very miserable. Breathing hot and long sighs repeatedly, the king waved his arms again and again, and setting his heart on battle, thus answered, from within the waters, the royal son of Pandu. "'Duryodhana said, "Ye Parthas, all of you are possessed of friends, of cars, and of animals! I, however, am alone, cheerless, without a car, and without an animal! Being alone and destitute of weapons, how can I venture to fight on foot, against numerous foes all well-armed and possessed of cars? Do you, however, O Yudhishthira, fight me one at a time! It is not proper that one should in battle fight many endued with courage, especially when that one is without armour, fatigued, afflicted with calamity, exceedingly mangled in his limbs, and destitute of both animals and troops! I do not entertain the least fear, O monarch, of either thee, or Vrikodara, the son of Pritha, or Phalguna, or Vasudeva, or all the Pancalas, or the twins, or Yuyudhana, or all the other troops thou hast! Standing in battle, alone as I am, I shall resist all of you! The fame, O king, of all righteous men hath righteousness for its basis! I say all this to you, observant of both righteousness and fame! Rising (from this lake), I shall fight all of you in battle! Like the year that gradually meets all the seasons, I shall meet all of you in fight! Wait, ye Pandavas! Like the sun destroying by his energy the light of all stars at dawn, I shall today, though weaponless and carless, destroy all of you possessed of cars and steeds! Today I shall free myself from the debt I owe to the many illustrious Kshatriyas (that have fallen for me), to Bahlika and Drona and Bhishma and the high-souled Karna, to the heroic Jayadratha and Bhagadatta, to Shalya the ruler of the Madras and Bhurishrava, to my sons, O chief of Bharata's race, and Shakuni the son of Subala, to all my friends and well-wishers and kinsmen! Today I shall free myself from that debt by slaying thee with thy brothers!" With these words, the (Kuru) king ceased speaking. "'Yudhishthira said, "By good luck, O Suyodhana, thou knowest the duties of a Kshatriya! By good luck, O thou of mighty arms, thy heart inclineth to battle! By good luck, thou art a hero, O thou of Kuru's race, and, by good luck, thou art conversant with battle, since, single-handed, thou wishest to meet all of us in battle! Fight any one of us, taking whatever weapon thou likest! All of us will stand as spectators here! I grant thee also, O hero, this (other) wish of thy heart, that if thou slayest any of us, thou shalt then become king! Otherwise, slain by us, go to heaven!" "'Duryodhana said, "A brave man as thou art, if thou grantest me the option of fighting only one of you, this mace that I hold in my hand is the weapon that I select! Let any one amongst you who thinks that he will be my match come forward and fight with me on foot, armed with mace! Many wonderful single combats have occurred on cars! Let this one great and wonderful combat with the mace happen today! Men (while fighting) desire to change weapons. Let the manner of the fight be changed today, with thy permission! O thou of mighty arms, I shall, with my mace, vanquish thee today with all thy younger brothers, as also all the Pancalas and the Srinjayas and all the other troops thou still hast! I do not cherish the least fear, O Yudhishthira, of even Shakra himself!" "'Yudhishthira said, "Rise, rise, O son of Gandhari, and fight me, Suyodhana! Alone as thou art, fight us, encountering one at a time, thou of great might, armed with thy mace! Be a man, O son of Gandhari, and fight with good care! Today thou shalt have to lay down thy life even if Indra becomes thy ally!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'That tiger among men, thy son, could not bear these words of Yudhishthira. He breathed long and heavy sighs from within the water like a mighty snake from within its hole. Struck repeatedly with such wordy goads, he could not endure it at all, like a horse of high breed that cannot endure the whip. Agitating the waters with great force, that valiant warrior rose like a prince of elephants from within the lake, breathing heavily in rage, and armed with his heavy mace that was endued with the strength of adamant and decked with gold. Piercing the solidified waters, thy son rose, shouldering his mace of iron, like the sun himself scorching everything with his rays. Endued with great strength, thy son, possessed of great intelligence, began to handle his heavy mace made of iron and equipped with a sling. Beholding him armed with mace and resembling a crested mountain or the trident-wielding Rudra himself casting angry glances on living creatures, they observed that Bharata chief shedding an effulgence around like the scorching sun himself in the sky. Indeed, all creatures then regarded that mighty-armed chastiser of foes, as he stood shouldering his mace after rising from the waters, looking like the Destroyer himself armed with his bludgeon. Indeed, all the Pancalas then saw thy royal son to look like the thunder-wielding Shakra or the trident-bearing Hara. Seeing him, however, rise from within the waters, all the Pancalas and the Pandavas began to rejoice and seize each other's hands. Thy son Duryodhana regarded that action of the spectators to be an insult directed towards him. Rolling his eyes in wrath, and as if burning the Pandavas with his glances, and contracting his brow into three furrows, and repeatedly biting his nether lip, he addressed the Pandavas with Keshava in their midst, saying, "You Pandavas, you shall have to bear the fruit of these taunts! Slain by me today, you shall, with the Pancalas, have to repair to the abode of Yama!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Rising from the water, thy son Duryodhana stood there, armed with mace, and with limbs bathed in blood. Covered with blood and drenched with water, his body then looked like a mountain shedding water from within. As he stood armed with mace, the Pandavas regarded him to be the angry son of Surya himself armed with the bludgeon called Kinkara. With voice deep as that of the clouds or of a bull roaring in joy, Duryodhana then, of great prowess, armed with his mace, summoned the Parthas to battle.' "'Duryodhana said, "You will have, O Yudhishthira, to encounter me one at a time! It is not proper, that one hero should fight with many at the same time, especially when that single warrior is divested of armour, fatigued with exertion, covered with water, exceedingly mangled in limbs, and without cars, animals and troops! Let the gods in heaven behold me fight single-handed destitute of all equipment and deprived of even armour and weapons! I shall certainly fight all of you! Thou shalt be judge, as thou hast the necessary qualifications, of the propriety and impropriety of everything!" "'Yudhishthira said, "How is it, O Duryodhana, that thou hadst not this knowledge when many great car-warriors, uniting together, slew Abhimanyu in battle? Kshatriya duties are exceedingly cruel, unmindful of all considerations, and without the least compassion! Otherwise, how could you slay Abhimanyu under those circumstances? All of you were acquainted with righteousness! All of you were heroes! All of you were prepared to lay down your lives in battle! The high end declared for those that fight righteously is the attainment of the regions of Shakra! If this be your duty, that one should never be slain by many, why is it then that Abhimanyu was slain by many, acting in accord with thy counsels? All creatures, when in difficulty forget considerations of virtue. They then view the gates of the other world to be closed. Put on armour, O hero, and bind thy locks! Take everything else, O Bharata, of which thou standest in need! This another wish of thine, O hero, I grant thee in addition, that if thou canst slay him amongst the five Pandavas with whom thou wishest an encounter, thou shalt then be king! Otherwise, slain (by him), thou shalt proceed to heaven! Except thy life, O hero, tell us what boon we may grant thee." "Sanjaya continued, 'Then thy son, O king, cased his body with armour made of gold, and put on a beautiful head-gear adorned with pure gold. Clad in bright armour of gold, he put on that head-gear. Indeed, O king, thy son then looked resplendent like a golden cliff. Clad in mail, armed with mace, and accoutred with other equipments, thy son Duryodhana then, O king, standing on the field of battle, addressed all the Pandavas, saying, "Amongst you (five) brothers, let any one fight me, armed with mace! As regards myself, I am willing to fight either Sahadeva, or Bhima, or Nakula, or Phalguna, or thee today, O bull of Bharata's race! Accorded an encounter, I will fight any one amongst you and will certainly gain the victory on the field! Today I will reach the end of these hostilities that is difficult to reach, with the aid, O tiger among men, of my mace wrapped with cloth of gold. I think, there is none to be my match in an encounter with the mace! With my mace I shall slay all of you one after another! Amongst all of you there is no one who is competent to fight fairly with me! It is not proper for me to speak such words of pride with respect to my own self! I shall, however, make these words of mine true in your presence! Within this very hour, these words will become either true or false! Let him amongst you take up the mace that will fight with me!"'" 33 "Sanjaya said, 'Whilst Duryodhana, O king, was repeatedly roaring in this strain, Vasudeva, filled with wrath, said these words unto Yudhishthira, "What rash words hast thou spoken, O king, to the effect, 'Slaying one amongst us be thou king among the Kurus.' If, indeed, O Yudhishthira, Duryodhana select thee for battle, or Arjuna, or Nakula, or Sahadeva (what will be the consequence)? From desire of slaying Bhimasena, O king, for these thirteen years hath Duryodhana practised with the mace upon a statue of iron! How then, O bull of Bharata's race, will our purpose be achieved? From compassion, O best of kings, thou hast acted with great rashness! I do not at this moment behold a match (for Duryodhana) except Pritha's son Vrikodara! His practice, again, with the mace, is not so great! Thou hast, therefore, once more allowed a wretched game of chance to commence as that one in former days between thyself and Shakuni, O monarch! Bhima is possessed of might and prowess. King Suyodhana, however, is possessed of skill! In a contest between might and skill, he that is possessed of skill, O king, always prevails! Such a foe, O king, thou hast, by thy words, placed in a position of ease and comfort! Thou hast placed thine own self, however, in a position of difficulty. We have, in consequence of this, been placed in great danger! Who is there that would abandon sovereignty within grasp, after having vanquished all his foes and when he hath only one foe to dispose of and that one plunged in difficulties? I do not see that man in the world today, be he a god, who is competent to vanquish the mace-armed Duryodhana in battle! Neither thou nor Bhima, nor Nakula nor Sahadeva, nor Phalguna, is capable of vanquishing Duryodhana in fair fight! King Duryodhana is possessed of great skill! How then, O Bharata, canst thou say unto such a foe words such as these, 'Fight, selecting the mace as thy weapon, and if thou canst slay one amongst us, thou shalt then be king?' If Duryodhana encounters Vrikodara amongst us wishing to fight fairly with him, even then our victory would be doubtful. Duryodhana is possessed of great might and great skill. How couldst thou say unto him, 'Slaying only one amongst us be thou king'? Without a doubt, the offspring of Pandu and Kunti are not destined to enjoy sovereignty! They were born for passing their lives in continued exile in the woods or in mendicancy!" "'Bhimasena said, "O slayer of Madhu, do not, O delighter of the Yadus, give way to sorrow! However, difficult to reach it, I shall today reach the end of these hostilities! Without doubt, I shall slay Suyodhana in battle! It appears, O Krishna, that the victory of Yudhishthira the just is certain! This mace of mine is heavier than Duryodhana's by one and a half times! Do not, O Madhava, give way to grief! I dare fight him, selecting the mace as the weapon! Let all of you, O Janardana, stand as spectators of the encounter! What do you say of Suyodhana, I would fight with the three worlds including the very gods, even if they be armed with every kind of weapon!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'After Vrikodara had said these words, Vasudeva, filled with joy, applauded him highly and said unto him, "Relying on thee, O thou of mighty arms, king Yudhishthira the just will, without doubt, get back his own blazing prosperity after the slaughter of all his foes! Thou hast slain all the sons of Dhritarashtra in battle! At thy hands many kings and princes and elephants have met with their fate! The Kalingas, the Magadhas, the Kauravas, the Westerners, the Gandharas have all been slain in dreadful battle, O son of Pandu! Slaying Duryodhana then, O son of Kunti, bestow the earth with her oceans upon Yudhishthira the just, like Vishnu (conferring the sovereignty of three worlds) upon the Lord of Sachi! The wretched son of Dhritarashtra, obtaining thee for a foe in battle, will, without doubt, meet with his fate! Thou wilt certainly accomplish thy vow by breaking his bones! Thou shouldst, however, O son of Pritha, always fight with care with the son of Dhritarashtra! He is possessed of both skill and strength and always takes delight in battle!" Then Satyaki, O king, applauded the son of Pandu. The Pancalas and the Pandavas, also, headed by king Yudhishthira the just, all applauded those words of Bhimasena. Then Bhima of terrible might addressed Yudhishthira, who was staying amid the Srinjayas like the blazing sun himself, saying, "Encountering this one in battle, I venture to fight with him! This wretch among men is not competent to vanquish me in fight! Today I shall vomit that wrath which hath been nursed in my bosom upon Suyodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, like Arjuna throwing fire on the forest of Khandava! I shall today pluck out the dart, O son of Pandu, that lay so long sticking to thy heart! Be happy, O king, after I shall have laid low this wretch with my mace! Today I shall recover, O sinless one, thy wreath of glory! Today Suyodhana shall abandon his life breath, his prosperity, and his kingdom! Today king Dhritarashtra also, hearing of his son's slaughter, will remember all those wrongs (that he did unto us) arising from the suggestions of Shakuni!" Having said these words that prince of Bharata's race, possessed of great energy, stood up for battle, like Shakra summoning Vritra (to an encounter). Unable to endure that summons, thy son, of great energy, proceeded to the encounter, like one infuriated elephant proceeding to assail another. The Pandavas beheld thy son, as he came armed with mace, look like the crested mountain of Kailasa. Indeed, seeing that mighty son of thine standing alone like a prince of elephants separated from the herd, the Pandavas became filled with delight. Standing in battle like a very lion, Duryodhana had no fear, no alarm, no pain, no anxiety. Beholding him stand there with uplifted mace like the crested mountain of Kailasa, Bhimasena, O monarch, addressed him, saying, "Call to thy mind all those wrongs that king Dhritarashtra and thyself have done unto us! Recollect what happened at Varanavata! Recollect how Draupadi, while in her season, was maltreated in the midst of the assembly and how king Yudhishthira was defeated at dice through Shakuni's suggestion! See now, O thou of wicked soul, the terrible consequence of those acts as also of the other wrongs that thou didst unto the innocent Parthas! It is for thee that that illustrious chief of the Bharatas, the son of Ganga, the grandsire of us all, lieth now on a bed of arrows, struck down (by us)! Drona also hath been slain! Karna hath been slain! Shalya of great valour hath been slain! Yonder Shakuni also, the root of these hostilities, hath been slain in battle! Thy heroic brothers, as also thy sons, with all thy troops, have been slain! Other kings also, possessed of heroism, and never retreating from battle, have been slain. These and many other bulls among Kshatriyas, as also the Pratikamin, that wretch who had seized the tresses of Draupadi, have been slain! Thou alone art still alive, thou exterminator of thy race, thou wretch among men! Thee also I shall today slay with my mace! Of this there is no doubt! Today, O king, I shall, in battle, quell all thy pride! I shall destroy also thy hope of sovereignty, O king, and pay off all thy misdeeds unto the sons of Pandu!" "'Duryodhana said, "What use is there of many words? Fight now with me! Today, O Vrikodara, I shall beat out of thee thy desire for battle! Why dost thou not behold me, O wretch, standing here for an encounter with the mace? Am I not armed with a formidable mace that looks like a cliff of Himavat? What foe is there, O wretch, that would venture to vanquish me armed with this weapon? If it be a fair fight, Purandara himself, amongst the gods, is not competent for that end! For all those wicked deeds of mine to which thou hast referred, thou couldst not (hitherto) do me the slightest injury! By exercising my might, I caused ye to dwell in the woods, to serve in another's dwelling, to conceal yourselves in disguises! Your friends and allies also have been slain. Our loss has been equal! If, then my fall takes place in this battle, that would be highly praiseworthy. Or, perhaps, Time will be the cause! Up to this day I have never been vanquished in fair fight on the field of battle! If you vanquish me by deceit, your infamy will certainly last for ever! That act of yours will, without doubt, be unrighteous and infamous! Do not, O son of Kunti, roar fruitlessly in this way like autumnal clouds uncharged with water! Show all the strength thou hast in battle now!" Hearing these words of his, the Pandavas with the Srinjayas, all inspired with desire of victory, applauded them highly. Like men exciting an infuriated elephant with clapping of hands, all of them then gladdened king Duryodhana (with those praises and cheers). The elephants that were there began to grunt and the steeds to neigh repeatedly. The weapons of the Pandavas, who were inspired with desire of victory blazed forth of their own accord.'" 34 "Sanjaya said, 'When that fierce battle, O monarch, was about to commence, and when all the high-souled Pandavas had taken their seats, indeed, having heard that battle between those two heroes, both of whom were his disciples, was about to begin, Rama, whose banner bore the device of the palmyra palm, and who owns the plough for his weapon, came to that spot. Beholding him, the Pandavas, with Keshava, filled with joy advanced towards him, and receiving him, worshipped him with due rites. Their worship over, they then, O king, said unto him these words, "Witness, O Rama, the skill, in battle, of thy two disciples!" Rama then casting his eyes on Krishna and the Pandavas, and looking at Duryodhana also of Kuru's race who was standing there armed with mace, said, "Two and forty days have passed since I left home. I had set out under the constellation Pushya and have come back under Sravana. I am desirous, O Madhava, of beholding this encounter with the mace between these two disciples of mine!" At that time the two heroes, Duryodhana and Vrikodara, looked resplendent as they stood on the field, both armed with maces. King Yudhishthira, embracing him owning the plough for his weapon, duly enquired about his welfare and bade him welcome. Those two great bowmen, the two illustrious Krishnas, filled with joy, cheerfully saluted the hero having the plough for his weapon and embraced him. Similarly, the two sons of Madri and the five sons of Draupadi saluted Rohini's son of great strength and stood (at a respectful distance). Bhimasena of great strength and thy son, O monarch, both with uplifted maces (in their arms), worshipped Valadeva. The other kings honoured him by bidding him welcome, and then all of them said unto Rama, "Witness this encounter, O thou of mighty arms!" Even thus those mighty car-warriors said unto the high-souled son of Rohini. Endued with immeasurable energy, Rama, having embraced the Pandavas and the Srinjayas, enquired after the welfare of all the (other) kings. Similarly, all of them, approaching, enquired after his welfare. The hero of the plough, having in return saluted all the high-souled Kshatriyas, and having made courteous enquiries about each according to their years, affectionately embraced Janardana and Satyaki. Smelling their heads, he enquired after their welfare. Those two, in return, O king, duly worshipped him, their superior, joyfully, like Indra and Upendra worshipping Brahman, the lord of the celestials. Then Dharma's son, O Bharata, said these words unto that chastiser of foes, the son of Rohini, "Behold, O Rama, this formidable encounter between the two brothers!" Thus worshipped by those great car-warriors, the elder brother of Keshava, of mighty arms and great beauty, took his seat amongst them. Clad in blue robes and possessed of a fair complexion, Rama, as he sat amidst those kings, looked resplendent like the moon in the firmament, encompassed by multitudes of stars. Then that dreadful encounter, making the very hair stand on end, took place between those two sons of thine, O king, for terminating the quarrel (that had raged for many years).'" 35 Janamejaya said, "On the eve of the great battle (between the Kurus and the Pandus), the lord Rama, with Keshava's leave, had gone away (from Dwaraka) accompanied by many of the Vrishnis. He had said unto Keshava, 'I will render aid neither unto the son of Dhritarashtra nor unto the sons of Pandu, but will go whithersoever I like!' Having said these words, Rama, that resister of foes, had gone away. It behoveth thee, O Brahmana, to tell me everything about his return! Tell me in detail how Rama came to that spot, how he witnessed the battle. In my opinion thou art well-skilled in narration!" Vaishampayana said, "After the high-souled Pandavas had taken up their post at Upaplavya, they despatched the slayer of Madhu to Dhritarashtra's presence, for the object of peace, O mighty-armed one, and for the good of all creatures. Having gone to Hastinapura and met Dhritarashtra, Keshava spoke words of true and especially beneficial import. The king, however, as I have told thee before, listened not to those counsels. Unable to obtain peace, the mighty-armed Krishna, that foremost of men, came back, O monarch, to Upaplavya. Dismissed by Dhritarashtra's son, Krishna returned (to the Pandava camp), and upon the failure of his mission, O tiger among kings, said these words unto the Pandavas, 'Urged by Fate, the Kauravas are for disregarding my words! Come, ye sons of Pandu, with me (to the field of battle), setting out under the constellation Pushya!' After this, while the troops (of both sides) were being mustered and arrayed, the high-souled son of Rohini, that foremost of all persons endued with might, addressed his brother Krishna, saying, 'O mighty-armed one, O slayer of Madhu, let us render assistance to the Kurus!' Krishna, however, did not listen to those words of his. With heart filled with rage (at this), that illustrious son of Yadu's race, the wielder of the plough then set out on a pilgrimage to the Sarasvati. Accompanied by all the Yadavas, he set out under the conjunction of the asterism called Maitra. The Bhoja chief (Kritavarma), however, adopted the side of Duryodhana. Accompanied by Yuyudhana, Vasudeva adopted that of the Pandavas. After the heroic son of Rohini had set out under the constellation Pushya, the slayer of Madhu, placing the Pandavas in his van, proceeded against the Kurus. While proceeding, Rama ordered his servants on the way, saying, 'Bring all things that are necessary for a pilgrimage, that is, every article of use! Bring the (sacred) fire that is at Dwaraka, and our priests. Bring gold, silver, kine, robes, steeds, elephants, cars, mules, camels, and other draft cattle! Bring all these necessaries for a trip to the sacred waters, and proceed with great speed towards the Sarasvati! Bring also some priests to be especially employed, and hundreds of foremost of Brahmanas!' Having given these orders to the servants, the mighty Valadeva set out on a pilgrimage at that time of great calamity to the Kurus. Setting out towards the Sarasvati, he visited all the sacred places along her course, accompanied by priests, friends, and many foremost of Brahmanas, as also with cars and elephants and steeds and servants, O bull of Bharata's race, and with many vehicles drawn by kine and mules and camels. Diverse kinds of necessaries of life were given away in large measure and in diverse countries unto the weary and worn, children and the old, in response, O king, to solicitations. Everywhere, O king, Brahmanas were promptly gratified with whatever viands they desired. At the command of Rohini's son, men at different stages of the journey stored food and drink in large quantities. Costly garments and bedsteads and coverlets were given for the gratification of Brahmanas, desirous of ease and comfort. Whatever Brahmana or Kshatriya solicited whatever thing, that O Bharata, it was seen to be ungrudgingly given to him. All who formed the party proceeded with great happiness and lived happily. The people (of Valarama's train) gave away vehicles to persons desirous of making journeys, drinks to them that were thirsty, and savoury viands to them that were hungry, as also robes and ornaments, O bull of Bharata's race, to many! The road, O king, along which the party proceeded, looked resplendent, O hero, and was highly comfortable for all, and resembled heaven itself. There were rejoicings everywhere upon it, and savoury viands were procurable everywhere. There were shops and stalls and diverse objects exposed for sale. The whole way was, besides, crowded with human beings. And it was adorned with various kinds of trees and creatures, and various kinds of gems. The high-souled Valadeva, observant of rigid vows, gave away unto the Brahmanas much wealth and plentiful sacrificial presents, O king, in diverse sacred spots. That chief of Yadu's race also gave away thousands of milch kine covered with excellent cloths and having their horns cased in gold, many steeds belonging to different countries, many vehicles, and many beautiful slaves. Even thus did the high-souled Rama give away wealth in diverse excellent tirthas on the Sarasvati. In course of his wanderings, that hero of unrivalled power and magnanimous conduct at last came to Kurukshetra." Janamejaya said, "Tell me, O foremost of men, the features, the origin, and the merits of the several tirthas on the Sarasvati and the ordinances to be observed while sojourning there! Tell me these, in their order, O illustrious one! My curiosity is irrepressible, O foremost of all persons acquainted with Brahma!" Vaishampayana said, "The subject of the features and origin of all these tirthas, O king, is very large. I shall, however, describe them to thee. Listen to that sacred account in its entirety, O king! Accompanied by his priests and friends, Valadeva first proceeded to the tirtha called Prabhasa. There, the Lord of the constellations (Soma), who had been affected with phthisis, became freed from his curse. Regaining energy there, O king, he now illuminates the universe. And because that foremost of tirthas on earth had formerly contributed to invest Soma with splendour (after he had lost it), it is, therefore, called Prabhasa." Janamejaya said, "For what reason was the adorable Soma afflicted with phthisis? How also did he bathe in that tirtha? How did he, having bathed in that sacred water, regain his energy? Tell me all this in detail, O great Muni!" Vaishampayana said, "Daksha had seven and twenty daughters, O king! These he bestowed (in marriage) upon Soma. Connected with the several constellations, those wives, O king, of Soma of auspicious deeds, served to help men in calculating time. Possessed of large eyes, all of them were unrivalled in beauty in the world. In wealth of beauty, however, Rohini was the foremost of them all. The adorable Soma took great delight in her. She became very agreeable to him, and therefore, he enjoyed the pleasures of her company (exclusively). In those days of yore, O monarch, Soma lived long with Rohini (exclusively). For this, those other wives of his, they that were called the constellations, became displeased with that high-souled one. Repairing speedily to their sire (Daksha), that Lord of creation, they said unto him, 'Soma doth not live with us! He always payeth court to Rohini only! All of us, therefore, O Lord of creatures, shall dwell by thy side, on regulated diet and observant of austere penances!' Hearing these words of theirs, Daksha (saw Soma and) said unto him, 'Behave equally towards all thy wives! Let not a great sin stain thee!' And Daksha then said unto those daughters of his, 'Go, all of you, to the presence of Sasin. At my command, he, (otherwise called) Candramas, will behave equally towards all of you!' Dismissed by him, they then proceeded to the abode of him having cool rays. Still the adorable Soma, O lord of earth, continued to act as before, for pleased with Rohini alone, he continued to live with her exclusively. His other wives then once more came together to their sire and said unto him, 'Employed in serving thee, we will dwell in thy asylum! Soma does not live with us and is unmindful of thy commands!' Hearing these words of theirs, Daksha once more said unto Soma, 'Behave equally towards all thy wives! Let me not, O Virochana, curse thee!' Disregarding, however, these words of Daksha, the adorable Soma continued to live with Rohini alone. At this, his other wives became once more angry. Repairing to their sire, they bowed unto him by lowering their heads, and said, 'Soma doth not live with us! Give us thy protection! The adorable Candramas always lives with Rohini exclusively! He sets no importance to thy words, and does not wish to show us any affection! Therefore, save us so that Soma may accept us all!' Hearing these words, the adorable Daksha, O king, became angry and in consequence thereof hurled the curse of phthisis upon Soma. Thus did that disease overtake the Lord of the stars. Afflicted with phthisis, Sasin began to waste away day by day. He made many endeavours for freeing himself from that disease by performing diverse sacrifices, O monarch! The maker of night, however, could not free himself from that curse. On the other hand, he continued to endure waste and emaciation. In consequence, however, of the wasting of Soma, the deciduous herbs failed to grow. Their juices dried up and they became tasteless, and all of them became deprived of their virtues. And, in consequence of this decadence of the deciduous herbs, living creatures also began to decay. Indeed, owing to the wasting of Soma, all creatures began to be emaciated. Then all the celestials, coming to Soma, O king, asked him, saying, 'Why is it that thy form is not so beautiful and resplendent (as before)? Tell us the reason whence hath proceeded this great calamity! Hearing thy answer, we shall do what is needed for dispelling thy fear!' Thus addressed, the god having the hare for his mark, replied unto them and informed them of the cause of the curse and the phthisis with which he was afflicted. The gods then, having heard those words, repaired to Daksha and said, 'Be gratified, O adorable one, with Soma! Let this curse of thine be withdrawn! Candramas is very emaciated! Only a small portion of him may be seen! In consequence of his wasting, O Lord of the celestials, all creatures also are wasting! Creepers and herbs of diverse kinds are also wasting! In their waste we ourselves also are suffering emaciation! Without us, what will this universe be? Knowing this, O master of the universe, it behoveth thee to be gratified (with Soma)!' Thus addressed (Daksha), that Lord of creatures, said these words unto the celestials, 'It is impossible to make my words become otherwise! By some contrivance, however, ye blessed ones, my words may be withdrawn! Let Sasin always behave equally towards all his wives! Having bathed also in that foremost of tirthas on the Sarasvati, the god having the hare for his mark shall, ye gods, grow once more! These words of mine are true! For half the month Soma shall wane every day, and for half the month (following) he will wax every day! These words of mine are true! Proceeding to the western Ocean at the spot where the Sarasvati mingles with the Ocean, that vast receptacle of waters, let him adore that God of gods (Mahadeva) there! He will then regain his form and beauty!' At this command of the (celestial) Rishi (Daksha), Soma then proceeded to the Sarasvati. He arrived at that foremost of tirthas called Prabhasa belonging to the Sarasvati. Bathing there on the day of the new moon, that god of great energy and great effulgence got back his cool rays and continued once more to illumine the worlds. All the creatures also, O monarch, having repaired to Prabhasa, returned with Soma amongst them to the place where Daksha was. (Receiving them duly) that Lord of creatures then dismissed them. Pleased with Soma, the adorable Daksha once more addressed him, saying, 'Do not, O son, disregard women, and never disregard Brahmanas! Go and attentively obey my commands!' Dismissed by him, Soma came back to his own abode. All creatures, filled with joy, continued to live as before. I have thus told thee everything about how the maker of the night had been cursed, and, how also Prabhasa became the foremost of all tirthas. On every recurring day of the new moon, O monarch, the god having the hare for his mark bathes in the excellent tirtha of Prabhasa and regains his form and beauty. It is for this reason, O lord of earth, that that tirtha is known by the name of Prabhasa, since bathing there, Candramas regained his great (Prabha) effulgence. After this, the mighty Baladeva of undecaying glory proceeded to Chamasodbheda, that is, to that tirtha which is called by that name. Giving away many costly gifts at that place, the hero having the plough for his weapon passed one night there and performed his ablutions duly. The elder brother of Keshava then proceeded quickly to Udapana. Although the Sarasvati seems to be lost there, yet persons crowned with ascetic success, in consequence of their obtaining great merits and great blessedness at that spot, and owing also to the coolness of the herbs and of the land there, know that the river has an invisible current, O monarch, through the bowels of the earth there." 36 Vaishampayana said, "Baladeva (as already said), proceeded next to the tirtha called Udapana in the Sarasvati, that had formerly been the residence, O king, of the illustrious (ascetic) Trita. Having given away much wealth and worshipped the Brahmanas, the hero having the plough for his weapon bathed there and became filled with joy. Devoted to righteousness, the great ascetic Trita had lived there. While in a hole, that high-souled one had drunk the Soma juice. His two brothers, dashing him down into that pit, had returned to their home. That foremost of Brahmanas, Trita, had thereupon cursed them both." Janamejaya said, "What is the origin of Udapana? How did the great ascetic (Trita) fall into a pit, there? Why was that foremost of Brahmanas thrown into that pit by his brothers? How did his brothers, after throwing him into that hole, return home? How did Trita perform his sacrifice and how did he drink Soma? Tell me all this, O Brahmana, if thou thinkest that I may listen to it without impropriety!" Vaishampayana continued, "In a former Yuga, O king, there were three brothers that were ascetics. They were called Ekata, Dwita, and Trita, and all three were endued with effulgence like that of the sun. They were like Lords of the creation and were blessed with children. Utterers of Brahma, they had by their penances, acquired the privilege of attaining to the regions of Brahman (after death). With their penances, vows, and self-restraint, their sire Gautama, who was ever devoted to virtue, became highly and always pleased with them. Having obtained great joy in consequence of his sons, the adorable Gautama, after passing a long life here, went at last to the region (in the other world) that was fit for him. Those kings, however, O monarch, that had been the Yajamanas of Gautama, continued to worship Gautama's sons after the sire had proceeded to heaven. Amongst them, however, Trita, by his acts and study (of the Vedas), O king, became the foremost, even like his sire Gautama. Then all the highly blessed ascetics, characterised by righteousness, began to worship Trita as they had worshipped his sire Gautama before him. Once upon a time, the two brothers Ekata and Dwita thought of performing a sacrifice and became anxious for wealth. The plan they formed, O scorcher of foes, was to take Trita with them, and calling upon all their Yajamanas and collecting the needful number of animals, they would joyfully drink the Soma juice and acquire the great merits of sacrifice. The three brothers then, O monarch, did as settled. Calling upon all their Yajamanas for (obtaining) animals, and assisting them in their sacrifices and receiving a large number of animals from them, and having duly accepted them in gift in consequence of those priestly services which they rendered, those high-souled and great Rishis came towards the east. Trita, O king, with a cheerful heart was walking before them. Ekata and Dwita were in his rear, bringing up the animals. Beholding that large herd of animals, they began to reflect as to how they two could appropriate that property without giving a share unto Trita. Hear, O king, what those two sinful wretches, Ekata and Dwita, said while conversing with each other! They said, 'Trita is skilled in assisting at sacrifices. Trita is devoted to the Vedas. Trita is capable of earning many other kine. Let us two, therefore, go away, taking the kine with us! Let Trita go whithersoever he chooses, without being in our company!' As they proceeded, night came upon them on the way. They then saw a wolf before them. Not far from that spot was a deep hole on the bank of the Sarasvati. Trita, who was in advance of his brothers, seeing the wolf, ran in fright and fell into that hole. That hole was fathomless and terrible and capable of inspiring all creatures with fear. Then Trita, O king, that best of ascetics, from within that hole, began to utter wails of woe. His two brothers heard his cries. Understanding that he had fallen into a pit, his brothers Ekata and Dwita, moved by fear of the wolf as also by temptation, went on, deserting their brother. Thus deserted by his two brothers, who were moved by the temptation of appropriating those animals, the great ascetic Trita, O king, while within that lonely well covered with dust and herbs and creepers, thought himself plunged, O chief of the Bharatas, into hell itself like a sinful wretch. He feared to die inasmuch as he had not earned the merit of drinking Soma juice. Possessed of great wisdom, he began to reflect with the aid of his intelligence as to how he could succeed in drinking Soma even there. While thinking on that subject, the great ascetic, standing in that pit, beheld a creeper hanging down into it in course of its growth. Although the pit was dry, the sage imagined the existence of water and of sacrificial fires there. Constituting himself the Hotri (in imagination), the great ascetic imagined the creeper he saw to be the Soma plant. He then mentally uttered the Richs, the Yayushes and the Samans (that were necessary for the performance of a sacrifice). The pebbles (lying at the bottom of the well) Trita converted into grains of sugar (in imagination). He then, O king, (mentally) performed his ablutions. He conceived the water (he had imagined) to be clarified butter. He allotted to the celestials their respective shares (of those sacrificial offerings). Having next (mentally) drunk Soma, he began to utter a loud noise. Those sounds, O king, first uttered by the sacrificing Rishi, penetrated into heaven, and Trita completed that sacrifice after the manner laid down by utterers of Brahma. During the progress of that sacrifice of the high-souled Trita, the whole region of the celestials became agitated. None knew, however, the cause. Brihaspati (the preceptor of the gods) heard that loud noise (made by Trita). The priests of the celestials said unto the latter, 'Trita is performing a sacrifice. We must go there, ye gods! Endued with great ascetic merit, if angry, he is competent to create other gods!' Hearing these words of Brihaspati, all the gods, united together, repaired to that spot where the sacrifice of Trita was going on. Having proceeded to that spot, the gods beheld the high-souled Trita installed in the performance of his sacrifice. Beholding that high-souled one resplendent with beauty, the gods addressed him, saying, 'We have come hither for our shares (in thy offerings)!' The Rishi said unto them, 'Behold me, ye denizens of heaven, fallen into this terrible well, almost deprived of my senses!' Then, Trita, O monarch, duly gave unto them their shares with proper mantras. The gods took them and became very glad. Having duly obtained their allotted shares, the denizens of heaven, gratified with him, gave him such boons as he desired. The boon, however, that he solicited was that the gods should relieve him from his distressful situation (in the well). He also said, 'Let him that bathes in this well, have the end that is attained by persons that have drunk Soma!' At these words, O king, the Sarasvati with her waves appeared within that well. Raised aloft by her, Trita came up and worshipped the denizens of heaven. The gods then said unto him 'Be it as thou wishest!' All of them, then, O king, went to the place whence they had come, and Trita, filled with joy, proceeded to his own abode. Meeting with those two Rishis, his brothers, he became enraged with them. Possessed of great ascetic merit, he said certain harsh words unto them and cursed them, saying, 'Since, moved by covetousness, you ran away, deserting me, therefore, you shall become fierce wolves with sharp teeth and range the forest, cursed by me in consequence of that sinful act of yours! The offspring also that you shall have will consist of leopards, and bears and apes!' After Trita had said these words, O monarch, his two brothers were seen to be very soon transformed into these shapes in consequence of the words of that truthful sage. Of immeasurable prowess, Valadeva touched the waters of Udapana. And he gave away diverse kinds of wealth there and worshipped many Brahmanas. Beholding Udapana and applauding it repeatedly, Valadeva next proceeded to Vinasana which also was on the Sarasvati." 37 Vaishampayana said, "Then Valadeva, O king, proceeded to Vinasana where the Sarasvati hath become invisible in consequence of her contempt for Sudras and Abhiras. And since the Sarasvati, in consequence of such contempt, is lost at that spot, the Rishis, for that reason, O chief of the Bharatas, always name the place as Vinasana. Having bathed in that tirtha of the Sarasvati, the mighty Baladeva then proceeded to Subhumika, situated on the excellent bank of the same river. There many fair-complexioned Apsaras, of beautiful faces, are always engaged in sports of a pure character without any intermission. The gods and the Gandharvas, every month, O ruler of men, repair to that sacred tirtha which is the resort of Brahman himself. The Gandharvas and diverse tribes of Apsaras are to be seen there, O king, assembled together and passing the time as happily as they like. There the gods and the Pitris sport in joy, with sacred and auspicious flowers repeatedly rained over them, and all the creepers also were adorned with flowery loads. And because, O king, that spot is the beautiful sporting ground of those Apsaras, therefore is that tirtha on the excellent bank of the Sarasvati called Subhumika. Baladeva of Madhu's race, having bathed in that tirtha and given away much wealth unto the Brahmanas, heard the sound of those celestial songs and musical instruments. He also saw there many shadows of gods, Gandharvas, and Rakshasas. The son of Rohini then proceeded to the tirtha of the Gandharvas. There many Gandharvas headed by Viswavasu and possessed of ascetic merit, pass their time in dance and song of the most charming kind. Giving away diverse kinds of wealth unto the Brahmanas, as also goats and sheep and kine and mules and camels and gold and silver, and feeding many Brahmanas and gratifying them with many costly gifts that were desired by them, Baladeva of Madhu's race proceeded thence, accompanied by many Brahmanas and eulogised by them. Leaving that tirtha resorted to by Gandharvas, that mighty-armed chastiser of foes, having but one earring, then proceeded to the famous tirtha called Gargasrota. There, in that sacred tirtha of the Sarasvati, the illustrious Garga of venerable years and soul cleansed by ascetic penances, O Janamejaya, had acquired a knowledge of Time and its course, of the deviations of luminous bodies (in the firmament), and of all auspicious and inauspicious portents. That tirtha, for this reason, came to be called after his name as Gargasrota. There, O king, highly blessed Rishis of excellent vows always waited upon Garga, O lord, for obtaining a knowledge of Time. Smeared with white sandal-paste, O king, Baladeva, repairing to that tirtha, duly gave away wealth unto many ascetics of cleansed souls. Having given also many kinds of costly viands unto the Brahmanas, that illustrious one attired in blue robes then proceeded to the tirtha called Sankha. There, on the bank of the Sarasvati, that mighty hero having the palmyra on his banner beheld a gigantic tree, called Mohasankha, tall as Meru, looking like the White-mountain, and resorted to by Rishis. There dwell Yakshas, and Vidyadharas, and Rakshasas of immeasurable energy and Pisachas of immeasurable might, and Siddhas, numbering thousands. All of them, abandoning other kinds of food, observe vows and regulations, and take at due seasons the fruits of that lord of the forest for their sustenance and wander in separate bands, unseen by men, O foremost of human beings! That monarch of the forest, O king, is known for this throughout the world! That tree is the cause of this celebrated and sacred tirtha on the Sarasvati. Having given away in that tirtha many milch cows, and vessels of copper and iron, and diverse kinds of other vessels, that tiger of Yadu's race, Baladeva, having the plough for his weapon, worshipped the Brahmanas and was worshipped by them in return. He then, O king, proceeded to the Dwaita lake. Arrived there, Vala saw diverse kinds of ascetics in diverse kinds of attire. Bathing in its waters, he worshipped the Brahmanas. Having given away unto the Brahmanas diverse articles of enjoyment in profusion, Baladeva then, O king, proceeded along the southern bank of the Sarasvati. The mighty-armed and illustrious Rama of virtuous soul and unfading glory then proceeded to the tirtha called Nagadhanwana. Swarming with numerous snakes, O monarch, it was the abode of Vasuki of great splendour, the king of the snakes. There 14,000 Rishis also had their permanent home. The celestials, having come there (in days of yore), had according to due rites, installed the excellent snake Vasuki as king of all the snakes. There is no fear of snakes in that place, O thou of Kuru's race! Duly giving away many valuables there unto the Brahmanas, Baladeva then set out with face towards the east and reached, one after another, hundreds and thousands of famous tirthas that occurred at every step. Bathing in all those tirthas, and observing fasts and other vows as directed by the Rishis, and giving away wealth in profusion, and saluting all the ascetics who had taken up their residence there, Baladeva once more set out, along the way that those ascetics pointed out to him, for reaching that spot where the Sarasvati turns in an eastward direction, like torrents of rain bent by the action of the wind. The river took that course for beholding the high-souled Rishis dwelling in the forest of Naimisha. Always smeared with white sandal-paste, Vala, having the plough for his weapon, beholding that foremost of rivers change her course, became, O king, filled with wonder." Janamejaya said, "Why, O Brahmana, did the Sarasvati bend her course there in an easternly direction? O best of Adharyus, it behoveth thee to tell me everything relating to this! For what reason was that daughter of the Yadus filled with wonder? Why, indeed, did that foremost of rivers thus alter her course?" Vaishampayana said, "Formerly, in the Krita age, O king, the ascetics dwelling in Naimisha were engaged in a grand sacrifice extending for twelve years. Many were the Rishis, O king, that came to that sacrifice. Passing their days, according to due rites, in the performance of that sacrifice, those highly blessed ones, after the completion of that twelve years' sacrifice at Naimisha, set out in large number for visiting the tirthas. In consequence of the number of the Rishis, O king, the tirthas on the southern banks of the Sarasvati all looked like towns and cities. Those foremost of Brahmanas, O tiger among men, in consequence of their eagerness for enjoying the merits of tirthas, took up their abodes on the bank of the river up to the site of Samantapanchaka. The whole region seemed to resound with the loud Vedic recitations of those Rishis of cleansed souls, all employed in pouring libations on sacrificial fires. That foremost of rivers looked exceedingly beautiful with those blazing homa fires all around, over which those high-souled ascetics poured libations of clarified butter. Valkhilyas and Asmakuttas, Dantolakhalinas, Samprakshanas and other ascetics, as also those that subsisted on air, and those that lived on water, and those that lived on dry leaves of trees, and diverse others that were observant of diverse kinds of vows, and those that forswore beds for the bare and hard earth, all came to that spot in the vicinity of the Sarasvati. And they made that foremost of rivers exceedingly beautiful, like the celestials beautifying (with their presence) the heavenly stream called Mandakini. Hundreds upon hundreds of Rishis, all given to the observance of sacrifices, came thither. Those practisers of high vows, however, failed to find sufficient room on the banks of the Sarasvati. Measuring small plots of land with their sacred threads, they performed their Agnihotras and diverse other rites. The river Sarasvati beheld, O monarch, that large body of Rishis penetrated with despair and plunged into anxiety for want of a broad tirtha wherein to perform their rites. For their sake, that foremost of streams came there, having made many abodes for herself in that spot, through kindness for those Rishis of sacred penances, O Janamejaya! Having thus, O monarch, turned her course for their sake, the Sarasvati, that foremost of rivers, once more flowed in a westerly direction, as if she said, 'I must go hence, having prevented the arrival of these Rishis from becoming futile!' This wonderful feat, O king, was accomplished there by that great river. Even thus those receptacles of water, O king, were formed in Naimisha. There, at Kurukshetra, O foremost of Kuru's care, do thou perform grand sacrifices and rites! As he beheld those many receptacles of water and seeing that foremost of rivers turn her course, wonder filled the heart of the high-souled Rama. Bathing in those tirthas duly and giving away wealth and diverse articles of enjoyment unto the Brahmanas, that delighter of Yadu's race also gave away diverse kinds of food and diverse desirable articles unto them. Worshipped by those regenerate ones, Vala, O king, then set out from that foremost of all tirthas on the Sarasvati (Sapta-Saraswat). Numerous feathery creatures have their home there. And it abounded with Vadari, Inguda, Ksamarya, Plaksha, Aswattha, Vibhitaka, Kakkola, Palasa, Karira, Pilu, and diverse other kinds of trees that grow on the banks of the Sarasvati. And it was adorned with forest of Karushakas, Vilwas, and Amratakas, and Atimuktas and Kashandas and Parijatas. Agreeable to the sight and most charming, it abounded with forests of plantains. And it was resorted to by diverse tribes of ascetics, some living on air, some on water, some on fruit, some on leaves, some on raw grain which they husked with the aid only of stones, and some that were called Vaneyas. And it resounded with the chanting of the Vedas, and teemed with diverse kinds of animals. And it was the favourite abode of men without malice and devoted to righteousness. Valadeva, having the plough for his weapon, arrived at that tirtha called Sapta-Saraswat, where the great ascetic Mankanaka had performed his penances and became crowned with success." 38 Janamejaya said, "Why was that tirtha called Sapta-Saraswat? Who was the ascetic Mankanaka? How did that adorable one become crowned with success? What were his vows and observances? In whose race was he born? What books did that best of regenerate ones study? I desire to hear all this, O foremost of regenerate ones!" Vaishampayana said, "O king, the seven Sarasvatis cover this universe! Whithersoever the Sarasvati was summoned by persons of great energy, thither she made her appearance. These are the seven forms of the Sarasvati: Suprava, Kanchanakshi, Visala, Manorama, Oghavati, Surenu, and Vimalodaka. The Supreme Grandsire had at one time performed a great sacrifice. While that sacrifice was in course of performance on the ground selected, many regenerate ones crowned with ascetic success came there. The spot resounded with the recitation of sacred hymns and the chanting of the Vedas. In the matter of those sacrificial rites, the very gods lost their coolness (so grand were the preparations). There, O monarch, while the Grandsire was installed in the sacrifice and was performing the grand ceremony capable of bestowing prosperity and every wish, many notable ones conversant with righteousness and profit were present. As soon as they thought of the articles of which they stood in need, these, O monarch, immediately appeared before the regenerate ones (among the guests) that came there. The Gandharvas sang and the diverse tribes of Apsaras danced. And they played upon many celestial instruments all the time. The wealth of provisions procured in that sacrifice satisfied the very gods. What shall I say then of human beings? The very celestials became filled with wonder! During the continuance of that sacrifice at Pushkara and in the presence of the Grandsire, the Rishis, O king, said, 'This sacrifice cannot be said to possess high attributes, since that foremost of rivers, Sarasvati, is not to be seen here!' Hearing these words, the divine Brahman cheerfully thought of Sarasvati. Summoned at Pushkara by the Grandsire engaged in the performance of a sacrifice, Sarasvati, O king, appeared there, under the name of Suprava. Beholding Sarasvati quickly pay that regard to the Grandsire, the Munis esteemed that sacrifice highly. Even thus that foremost of rivers, the Sarasvati, made her appearance at Pushkara for the sake of the Grandsire and for gratifying the Munis. (At another time), O king, many Munis, mustering together at Naimisha, took up their residence there. Delightful disquisition occurred among them, O king, about the Vedas. There where those Munis, conversant with diverse scriptures, took up their abode, there they thought of the Sarasvati. Thus thought of, O monarch, by those Rishis performing a sacrifice, the highly blessed and sacred Sarasvati, for rendering assistance, O king, to those high-souled Munis assembled together, made her appearance at Naimisha and came to be called Kanchanakshi. That foremost of rivers, worshipped by all, thus came there, O Bharata! While (king) Gaya was engaged in the performance of a great sacrifice at Gaya, the foremost of rivers, Sarasvati, summoned at Gaya's sacrifice (made her appearance there). The Rishis of rigid vows that were there, named this form of hers at Gaya as Visala. That river of swift current flows from the sides of the Himavat. Auddalaka had also, O Bharata, performed a sacrifice. A large concourse of Munis had been gathered there. It was on that sacred region, the northern part of Kosala, O king, that the sacrifice of high-souled Auddalaka was performed. Before Auddalaka began his sacrifice, he had thought of the Sarasvati. That foremost of rivers came to that region for the sake of those Rishis. Worshipped by all those Munis clad in barks and deer-skins she became known by the name of Manorama, as those Rishis mentally called her. While, again, the high-souled Kuru was engaged in a sacrifice at Kurukshetra, that foremost of rivers, the highly blessed Sarasvati, made her appearance there. Summoned, O monarch, by the high-souled Vasishtha (who assisted Kuru in his sacrifice), the Sarasvati, full of celestial water appeared at Kurukshetra under the name of Oghavati. Daksha at one time performed a sacrifice at the source of Ganga. The Sarasvati appeared there under the name of the fast-flowing Surenu. Once again, while Brahman was engaged in a sacrifice on the sacred forest of the Himavat mountains, the adorable Sarasvati, summoned (by him), appeared there. All these seven forms then came and joined together in that tirtha where Baladeva came. And because the seven mingled together at that spot, therefore is that tirtha known on Earth by the name of Sapta Sarasvati. Thus have I told thee of the seven Sarasvatis, according to their names. I have also told thee of the sacred tirtha called Sapta Saraswat. Listen now to a great feat of Mankanaka, who had from his youth led the life of a brahmacari. While employed in performing his ablutions in the river, he beheld (one day), O Bharata, a woman of faultless limbs and fair brows, bathing in the river at will, her person uncovered. At this sight, O monarch, the vital seed of the Rishi fell unto the Sarasvati. The great ascetic took it up and placed it within his earthen pot. Kept within that vessel, the fluid became divided into seven parts. From those seven portions were born seven Rishis from whom sprang the (nine and forty) Maruts. The seven Rishis were named Vayuvega, Vayuhan, Vayumandala, Vayujata, Vayuretas, and Vayuchakra of great energy. Thus were born these progenitors of the diverse Maruts. Hear now a more wonderful thing, O king, a fact exceedingly marvellous on Earth, about the conduct of the great Rishi, which is well known in the three worlds. In days of yore, after Mankanaka had become crowned with success, O king, his hand, on one occasion, became pierced with a Kusa blade. Thereupon, a vegetable juice came out of the wound (and not red blood). Seeing that vegetable juice, the Rishi became filled with joy and danced about on the spot. Seeing him dance, all mobile and immobile creatures, O hero, stupefied by his energy, began to dance. Then the gods with Brahman at their head, and the Rishis possessed of wealth of asceticism, O king, all went to Mahadeva and informed him of the act of the Rishi (Mankanaka). And they said unto him, 'It behoveth thee, O god, to do that which may prevent the Rishi from dancing!' Then Mahadeva, seeing the Rishi filled with great joy, and moved by the desire of doing good unto the gods, addressed him, saying, 'Why, O Brahmana, dost thou dance in this way, acquainted as thou art with thy duties? What grave cause is there for such joy of thine, O sage, that, an ascetic as thou art, O best of Brahmanas, and walking as thou dost along the path of virtue, thou shouldst act in this way?' "The Rishi said, 'Why, seest thou not, O Brahmana, that a vegetable juice is flowing from this wound of mine? Seeing this, O lord, I am dancing in great joy!' Laughing at the Rishi who was stupefied by passion, the god said, 'I do not, O Brahmana, at all wonder at this! Behold me!' Having said this unto that foremost of Rishis, Mahadeva of great intelligence struck his thumb with the end of one of his fingers. Thereupon, O king, ashes, white as snow, came out of that wound. Seeing this, the Rishi became ashamed, O monarch, and fell at the feet of the god. He understood the god to be none else than Mahadeva. Filled with wonder, he said, 'I do not think that thou art any one else than Rudra, that great and Supreme being! O wielder of the trident, thou art the refuge of this universe consisting of gods and Asuras! The wise say that this universe hath been created by thee! At the universal destruction, everything once more enters thee! Thou art incapable of being known by the gods, how then canst thou be known by me? All forms of being that are in the universe are seen in thee! The gods with Brahman at their head worship thy boon giving self, O sinless one! Thou art everything! Thou art the creator of the gods and it was thou who hadst caused them to be created! Through thy grace, the gods pass their time in joy and perfect fearlessness!' Having praised Mahadeva in this manner, the Rishi bowed to him, 'Let not this absence of gravity, ridiculous in the extreme, that I displayed, O god, destroy my ascetic merit! I pray to thee for this!' The god, with a cheerful heart, once more said unto him 'Let thy asceticism increase a thousandfold, O Brahmana, through my grace! I shall also always dwell with thee in this asylum! For the man that will worship me in the tirtha Sapta-Saraswat there will be nothing unattainable here or hereafter. Without doubt, such a one shall go to the region called Saraswat (in heaven) after death!' Even this is the history of Mankanaka of abundant energy. He was a son begotten by the god of wind upon (the lady) Sukanya." 39 Vaishampayana said, "Having passed one night more, Rama, having the plough for his weapon, worshipped the dwellers of that tirtha and showed his regard for Mankanaka. Having given wealth unto the Brahmanas, and passed the night there, the hero having the plough for his weapon was worshipped by the Munis. Rising up in the morning, he took leave of all the ascetics, and having touched the sacred water, O Bharata, set out quickly for other tirthas. Baladeva then went to the tirtha known by the name of Usanas. It is also called Kapalamochana. Formerly, Rama (the son of Dasaratha) slew a Rakshasa and hurled his head to a great distance. That head, O king, fell upon the thigh of a great sage named Mahodara and stuck to it. Bathing in this tirtha, the great Rishi became freed from the burthen. The high-souled Kavi (Sukra) had performed his ascetic penances there. It was there that the whole science of politics and morals (that goes by Sukra's name) appeared to him by inward light. While residing there, Sukra meditated upon the war of the Daityas and the Danavas (with the gods). Arrived at that foremost of tirthas, Baladeva, O king, duly made presents unto the high-souled Brahmanas." Janamejaya said, "Why is it called Kapalamochana, where the great Muni became freed (from the Rakshasa's head)? For what reason and how did that head stick unto him?" Vaishampayana said, "Formerly, O tiger among kings, the high-souled Rama (the son of Dasaratha) lived (for some time) in the forest of Dandaka, from desire of slaying the Rakshasas. At Janasthana he cut off the head of a wicked-souled Rakshasa with a razor-headed shaft of great sharpness. That head fell in the deep forest. That head, coursing at will (through the welkin) fell upon the thigh of Mahodara while the latter was wandering through the woods. Piercing his thigh, O king, it stuck to it and remained there. In consequence of that head thus sticking to his thigh, the Brahmana (Mahodara) of great wisdom could not (with ease) proceed to tirthas and other sacred spots. Afflicted with great pain and with putrid matter flowing from his thigh, he went to all the tirthas of the Earth (one after another), as heard by us. He went to all the rivers and to the ocean also. (Not finding any relief) the great ascetic spoke of his sufferings to many Rishis of cleansed souls about his having bathed in all the tirthas without having found the relief he sought. That foremost of Brahmanas then heard from those sages words of high import about this foremost of tirthas situate on the Sarasvati, and known by the name of Usanasa, which was represented as competent to cleanse from every sin and as an excellent spot for attaining to (ascetic) success. That Brahmana, then, repairing to that Usanasa tirtha, bathed in its waters. Upon this, the Rakshasa's head, leaving the thigh, fell into the water. Freed from that (dead) head, the Rishi felt great happiness. As regards the head itself, it was lost in the waters. Mahodara then, O king, freed from the Rakshasa's head, cheerfully returned, with cleansed soul and all his sins washed away, to his asylum after achieving success. The great ascetic thus freed, after returning to his sacred asylum, spoke of what had happened to those Rishis of cleansed souls. The assembled Rishis, having heard his words, bestowed the name of Kapalamochana on the tirtha. The great Rishi Mahodara, repairing once more to that foremost of tirthas, drank its water and attained to great ascetic success. He of Madhu's race, having given away much wealth unto the Brahmanas and worshipped them, then proceeded to the asylum of Rushangu. There, O Bharata, Arshtishena had in former days undergone the austerest of penances. There the great Muni Vishvamitra (who had before been a Kshatriya) became a Brahmana. That great asylum is capable of granting the fruition of every wish. It is always, O lord, the abode of Munis and Brahmanas. Baladeva of great beauty, surrounded by Brahmanas, then went to that spot, O monarch, where Rushangu had, in former days, cast off his body. Rushangu, O Bharata, was an old Brahmana, who was always devoted to ascetic penances. Resolved to cast off his body, he reflected for a long while. Endued with great ascetic merit, he then summoned all his sons and told them to take him to a spot where water was abundant. Those ascetics, knowing their sire had become very old, took that ascetic to a tirtha on the Sarasvati. Brought by his sons to the sacred Sarasvati containing hundreds of tirthas and on whose banks dwelt Rishis unconnected with the world, that intelligent ascetic of austere penance bathed in that tirtha according to due rites, and that foremost of Rishis conversant with the merits of tirthas, then cheerfully said, O tiger among men, unto all his sons, who were dutifully waiting upon him, these words, 'He that would cast off his body on the northern bank of the Sarasvati containing much water, while employed in mentally reciting sacred mantras, would never again be afflicted with death!' The righteous-souled Baladeva, touching the water of that tirtha and bathing in it, gave considerable wealth unto the Brahmanas, being devoted to them. Possessed of great might and great prowess Baladeva then proceeded to that tirtha where the adorable Grandsire had created the mountains called Lokaloka, where that foremost of Rishis, Arshtishena of rigid vows, O thou of Kuru's race, had by austere penances acquired the status of Brahmanhood, where the royal sage Sindhudwipa, and the great ascetic Devapi, and the adorable and illustrious Muni Vishvamitra of austere penances and fierce energy, had all acquired a similar status." 40 Janamejaya said, "Why did the adorable Arshtishena undergo the austerest of penances? How also did Sindhudwipa acquire the status of a Brahmana? How also did Devapi, O Brahmana, and how Vishvamitra, O best of men, acquire the same status? Tell me all this, O adorable one! Great is my curiosity to listen to all these." Vaishampayana said, "Formerly, in the Krita age, O king, there was a foremost of regenerate persons called Arshtishena. Residing in his preceptor's house, he attended to his lessons every day. Although, O king, he resided long in the abode of his preceptor, he could not still acquire the mastery of any branch of knowledge or of the Vedas, O monarch! In great disappointment, O king, the great ascetic performed very austere penances. By his penances he then acquired the mastery of the Vedas, to which there is nothing superior. Acquiring great learning and a mastery of the Vedas, that foremost of Rishis became crowned with success in that tirtha. He then bestowed three boons on that place. (He said), 'From this day, a person, by bathing in this tirtha of the great river (Sarasvati), shall obtain the great fruit of a horse sacrifice! From this day there will be no fear in this tirtha from snakes and wild beasts! By small exertions, again, one shall attain to great result here!' Having said these words, that Muni of great energy proceeded to heaven. Even thus the adorable Arshtishena of great energy became crowned with success. In that very tirtha in the Krita age, Sindhudwipa of great energy, and Devapi also, O monarch, had acquired the high status of Brahmanhood. Similarly Kusika's son, devoted to ascetic penances and with his senses under control, acquired the status of Brahmanhood by practising well-directed austerities. There was a great Kshatriya, celebrated over the world, known by the name of Gadhi. He had a son born to him, of the name of Vishvamitra of great prowess. King Kausika became a great ascetic. Possessed of great ascetic merit, he wished to install his son Vishvamitra on his throne, himself having resolved to cast off his body. His subjects, bowing unto him, said, 'Thou shouldst not go away, O thou of great wisdom, but do thou protect us from a great fear!' Thus addressed, Gadhi replied unto his subjects, saying, 'My son will become the protector of the wide universe!' Having said these words, and placed Vishvamitra (on the throne), Gadhi, O king, went to heaven, and Vishvamitra became king. He could not, however, protect the earth with even his best exertions. The king then heard of the existence of a great fear of Rakshasas (in his kingdom). With his four kinds of forces, he went out of his capital. Having proceeded far on his way, he reached the asylum of Vasishtha. His troops, O king, caused much mischief there. The adorable Brahmana Vasishtha, when he came to his asylum, saw the extensive woods in course of destruction. That best of Rishis, Vasishtha, O king, became angry, O monarch, with Vishvamitra. He commanded his own (homa) cow, saying, 'Create a number of terrible Savaras!' Thus addressed, the cow created a swarm of men of frightful visages. These encountered the army of Vishvamitra and began to cause a great carnage everywhere. Seeing this, his troops fled away. Vishvamitra, the son of Gadhi, however, regarding ascetic austerities highly efficacious, set his heart upon them. In this foremost of tirthas of the Sarasvati, O king, he began to emaciate his own body by means of vows and fasts with fixed resolve. He made water and air and (the fallen) leaves of trees his food. He slept on the bare ground, and observed other vows (enjoined for ascetics). The gods made repeated attempts for impeding him in the observance of his vows. His heart, however, never swerved from the vows (he had proposed to himself). Then, having practised diverse kinds of austerities with great devotion, the son of Gadhi became like the Sun himself in effulgence. The boon-giving Grandsire, of great energy, resolved to grant Vishvamitra, when he had become endued with ascetic merit, the boon the latter desired. The boon that Vishvamitra solicited was that he should be permitted to become a Brahmana. Brahma the Grandsire of all the worlds, said unto him, 'So be it.' Having by his austere penances acquired the status of Brahmanhood, the illustrious Vishvamitra, after the attainment of his wish, wandered over the whole Earth like a celestial. Giving away diverse kinds of wealth in that foremost of tirthas, Rama also cheerfully gave away milch cows and vehicles and beds, ornaments, and food and drink of the best kinds, O king, unto many foremost of Brahmanas, after having worshipped them duly. Then, O king, Rama proceeded to the asylum of Vaka which was not very distant from where he was, that asylum in which, as heard by us, Dalvya Vaka had practised the austerest of penances." 41 Vaishampayana said, "The delighter of the Yadus then proceeded to the asylum (of Vaka) which resounded with the chanting of the Vedas. There the great ascetic, O king, named Dalvyavaka poured the kingdom of Dhritarashtra, the son of Vichitravirya, as a libation (on the sacrificial fire). By practising very austere penances he emaciated his own body. Endued with great energy, the virtuous Rishi, filled with great wrath, (did that act). In former times, the Rishis residing in the Naimisha forest had performed a sacrifice extending for twelve years. In course of that sacrifice, after a particular one called Viswajit had been completed, the Rishis set out for the country of the Pancalas. Arrived there, they solicited the king for giving them one and twenty strong and healthy calves to be given away as Dakshina (in the sacrifice they have completed). Dalvya Vaka, however, (calling those Rishis), said unto them, 'Do you divide those animals (of mine) among you! Giving away these (unto you), I shall solicit a great king (for some).' Having said so unto all those Rishis, Vaka of great energy, that best of Brahmanas, then proceeded to the abode of Dhritarashtra. Arrived at the presence of king Dhritarashtra, Dalvya begged some animals of him. That best of kings, however, seeing that some of his kine died without any cause, angrily said unto him. 'Wretch of a Brahmana, take, if thou likest, these animals that (are dead)!' Hearing these words, the Rishi, conversant with duties, thought, 'Alas, cruel are the words that have been addressed to me in the assembly!' Having reflected in this strain, that best of Brahmanas, filled with wrath, set his heart upon the destruction of king Dhritarashtra. Cutting the flesh from off the dead animals, that best of sages, having ignited a (sacrificial) fire on the tirtha of the Sarasvati, poured those pieces as libations for the destruction of king Dhritarashtra's kingdom. Observant of rigid vows, the great Dalvya Vaka, O monarch, poured Dhritarashtra's kingdom as a libation on the fire, with the aid of those pieces of meat. Upon the commencement of that fierce sacrifice according to due rites, the kingdom of Dhritarashtra, O monarch, began to waste away. Indeed, O lord, the kingdom of that monarch began to waste away, even as a large forest begins to disappear when men proceed to cut it down with the axe. Overtaken by calamities, the kingdom began to lose its prosperity and life. Seeing his kingdom thus afflicted, the puissant monarch, O king, became very cheerless and thoughtful. Consulting with the Brahmanas, he began to make great endeavours for freeing his territories (from affliction). No good, however, came of his efforts, for the kingdom continued to waste away. The king became very cheerless. The Brahmanas also, O sinless one, became filled with grief. When at last the king failed to save his kingdom, he asked his counsellors. O Janamejaya, (about the remedy). The counsellors reminded him of the evil he had done in connection with the dead kine. And they said, 'The sage Vaka is pouring thy kingdom as a libation on the fire with the aid of the flesh (of those animals). Thence is this great waste of thy kingdom! This is the consequence of ascetic rites. Thence is this great calamity! Go, O king, and gratify that Rishi by the side of a receptacle of water on the bank of the Sarasvati!' Repairing to the bank of the Sarasvati, the king falling at his feet and touching them with his head, joined his hands and said, O thou of Bharata's race, these words, 'I gratify thee, O adorable one, forgive my offence. I am a senseless fool, a wretch inspired with avarice. Thou art my refuge, thou art my protector, it behoveth thee to show me thy grace!' Beholding him thus overwhelmed with grief and indulging in lamentations like these, Vaka felt compassion for him and freed his kingdom. The Rishi became gratified with him, having dismissed his angry feelings. For freeing his kingdom, the sage again poured libations on the fire. Having freed the kingdom (from calamities) and taken many animals in grief, he became pleased at heart and once more proceeded to the Naimisha woods. The liberal-minded king Dhritarashtra also, of righteous soul, with a cheerful heart, returned to his own capital full of prosperity. "In that tirtha, Brihaspati also, of great intelligence, for the destruction of the Asuras and the prosperity of the denizens of heaven, poured libations on the sacrificial fire, with the aid of flesh. Upon this, the Asuras began to waste away and were destroyed by the gods, inspired by desire of victory in battle. Having with due rites given unto the Brahmanas steeds and elephants and vehicles with mules yoked unto them and jewels of great value and much wealth, and much corn, the illustrious and mighty-armed Rama then proceeded, O king, to the tirtha called Yayata. There, O monarch, at the sacrifice of the high-souled Yayati, the son of Nahusha, the Sarasvati produced milk and clarified butter. That tiger among men, king Yayati, having performed a sacrifice there, went cheerfully to heaven and obtained many regions of blessedness. Once again, O lord, king Yayati performed a sacrifice there. Beholding his great magnanimity of soul and his immutable devotion to herself, the river Sarasvati gave unto the Brahamanas (invited to that sacrifice) everything for which each of them cherished only a wish in his heart. That foremost of rivers gave unto each where he was, amongst those that were invited to the sacrifice, houses and beds and food of the six different kinds of taste, and diverse other kinds of things. The Brahmanas regarded those valuable gifts as made to them by the king. Cheerfully they praised the monarch and bestowed their auspicious blessings upon him. The gods and the Gandharvas were all pleased with the profusion of articles in that sacrifice. As regards human beings, they were filled with wonder at sight of that profusion. The illustrious Baladeva, of soul subdued and restrained and cleansed, having the palmyra on his banner, distinguished by great righteousness, and ever giving away the most valuable things, then proceeded to that tirtha of fierce current called Vasishthapavaha." 42 Janamejaya said, "Why is the current of (the tirtha known by the name of) Vasishthapavaha so rapid? For what reason did the foremost of rivers bear away Vasishtha? What, O lord, was the cause of the dispute between Vasishtha and Vishvamitra? Questioned by me, O thou of great wisdom, tell me all this! I am never satiated with hearing thee!" Vaishampayana said, "A great enmity arose between Vishvamitra and Vasishtha, O Bharata, due to their rivalry in respect of ascetic austerities. The high abode of Vasishtha was in the tirtha called Sthanu on the eastern bank of the Sarasvati. On the opposite bank was the asylum of the intelligent Vishvamitra. There, in that tirtha, O monarch, Sthanu (Mahadeva) had practised the austerest penances. Sages still speak of those fierce feats. Having performed a sacrifice there and worshipped the river Sarasvati, Sthanu established that tirtha there. Hence it is known by the name Sthanu-tirtha, O lord. In that tirtha, the celestials had, in days of yore, O king, installed Skanda, that slayer of the enemies of the gods, in the supreme command of their army. Unto that tirtha of the Sarasvati, the great Rishi Vishvamitra, by the aid of his austere penances, brought Vasishtha. Listen to that history. The two ascetics Vishvamitra and Vasishtha, O Bharata, every day challenged each other very earnestly in respect of the superiority of their penances. The great Muni Vishvamitra, burning (with jealousy) at sight of the energy of Vasishtha, began to reflect on the matter. Though devoted to the performance of his duties, this, however, is the resolution, O Bharata, that he formed: 'This Sarasvati shall quickly bring, by force of her current, that foremost of ascetics, Vasishtha, to my presence. After he shall have been brought hither, I shall, without doubt, slay that foremost of regenerate ones.' Having settled this, the illustrious and great Rishi Vishvamitra with eyes red in wrath, thought of that foremost of rivers. Thus remembered by the ascetic, she became exceedingly agitated. The fair lady, however, repaired to that Rishi of great energy and great wrath. Pale and trembling, Sarasvati, with joined hands appeared before that foremost of sages. Indeed, the lady was much afflicted with grief, even like a woman who has lost her mighty lord. And she said unto that best of sages, 'Tell me what is there that I shall do for thee.' Filled with rage, the ascetic said unto her, 'Bring hither Vasishtha without delay, so that I may slay him.' Hearing these words the river became agitated. With joined hands the lotus-eyed lady began to tremble exceedingly in fear like a creeper shaken by the wind. Beholding the great river in that plight, the ascetic said unto her, 'Without any scruple, bring Vasishtha unto my presence!' Hearing these words of his, and knowing the evil he intended to do, and acquainted also with the prowess of Vasishtha that was unrivalled on earth, she repaired to Vasishtha and informed him of what the intelligent Vishvamitra had said unto her. Fearing the curse of both, she trembled repeatedly. Indeed, her heart was on the grievous curse (that either of them might pronounce on her). She stood in terror of both. Seeing her pale and plunged in anxiety, the righteous-souled Vasishtha, that foremost of men, O king, said these words unto her. "Vasishtha said, 'O foremost of rivers, save thyself! O thou of rapid current, bear me away, otherwise Vishvamitra will curse thee. Do not feel any scruple.' Hearing these words of that compassionate Rishi, the river began to think, O Kauravya, as to what course would be best for her to follow. Even these were the thoughts that arose in her mind: 'Vasishtha showeth great compassion for me. It is proper for me that I should serve him.' Beholding then that best of Rishis, (Vasishtha) engaged in silent recitation (of mantras) on her bank, and seeing Kusika's son (Vishvamitra) also engaged in homa, Sarasvati thought, 'Even this is my opportunity.' Then that foremost of rivers, by her current, washed away one of her banks. In washing away that bank, she bore Vasishtha away. While being borne away, O king, Vasishtha praised the river in these words: 'From the Grandsire's (manasa) lake thou hast taken thy rise, O Sarasvati! This whole universe is filled with thy excellent waters! Wending through the firmament, O goddess, thou impartest thy waters to the clouds! All the waters are thee! Through thee we exercise our thinking faculties! Thou art Pushti and Dyuti, Kirti, and Siddhi and Uma! Thou art Speech, and thou art Svaha! This whole universe is dependent on thee! It is thou that dwellest in all creatures, in four forms!' Thus praised by that great Rishi, Sarasvati, O king, speedily bore that Brahmana towards the asylum of Vishvamitra and repeatedly represented unto the latter the arrival of the former. Beholding Vasishtha thus brought before him by Sarasvati, Vishvamitra, filled with rage, began to look for a weapon wherewith to slay that Brahmana. Seeing him filled with wrath, the river from fear of (witnessing and aiding in) a Brahmana's slaughter, quickly bore Vasishtha away to her eastern bank once more. She thus obeyed the words of both, although she deceived the son of Gadhi by her act. Seeing that best of Rishis, Vasishtha, borne away, the vindictive Vishvamitra, filled with wrath, addressed Sarasvati, saying, 'Since, O foremost of rivers, thou hast gone away, having deceived me, let thy current be changed into blood that is acceptable to Rakshasas.' Then, cursed by the intelligent Vishvamitra, Sarasvati flowed for a whole year, bearing blood mixed with water. The gods, the Gandharvas, and the Apsaras, beholding the Sarasvati reduced to that plight, became filled with great sorrow. For this reason, O king, the tirtha came to be called Vasishthapravaha on earth. The foremost of rivers, however, once more got back her own proper condition." 43 Vaishampayana said, "Cursed by the intelligent Vishvamitra in anger, Sarasvati, in that auspicious and best of tirthas, flowed, bearing blood in her current. Then, O king, many Rakshasas came, O Bharata, and lived happily there, drinking the blood that flowed. Exceedingly gratified with that blood, cheerfully and without anxiety of any kind, they danced and laughed there like persons that have (by merit) attained to heaven. After some time had passed away, some Rishis, possessed of wealth of asceticism, came to the Sarasvati, O king, on a sojourn to her tirthas. Those foremost of Munis, having bathed in all the tirthas and obtained great happiness, became desirous of acquiring more merit. Those learned persons at last came, O king, to that tirtha where the Sarasvati ran a bloody current. Those highly blessed ones, arriving at that frightful tirtha, saw the water of the Sarasvati mixed with blood and that innumerable Rakshasas, O monarch, were drinking it. Beholding those Rakshasas, O king, those ascetics of rigid vows made great endeavours for rescuing the Sarasvati from that plight. Those blessed ones of high vows, arrived there, invoked that foremost of rivers and said these words unto her, 'Tell us the reason, O auspicious lady, why this lake in thee hath been afflicted with such distress. Hearing it, we shall endeavour (to restore it to its proper condition).' Thus questioned, Sarasvati, trembling as she spoke, informed them of everything that had occurred. Seeing her afflicted with woe, those ascetics said, 'We have heard the reason. We have heard of thy curse, O sinless lady! All of us shall exert ourselves!' Having said these words unto that foremost of rivers, they then consulted with one another thus, 'All of us shall emancipate Sarasvati from her curse.' Then all those Brahmanas, O king, worshipping Mahadeva, that lord of the universe and protector of all creatures, with penance and vows and fasts and diverse kinds of abstinences and painful observances, emancipated that foremost of rivers, the divine Sarasvati. Beholding the water of Sarasvati purified by those Munis, the Rakshasas (that had taken up their abode there), afflicted with hunger, sought the protection of those Munis themselves. Afflicted with hunger, the Rakshasas, with joined hands, repeatedly said unto those ascetics filled with compassion, these words, 'All of us are hungry! We have swerved from eternal virtue! That we are sinful in behaviour is not of our free will! Through the absence of your grace and through our own evil acts, as also through the sexual sins of our women, our demerits increase and we have become Brahma-Rakshasas! So amongst Vaisyas and Sudras, and Kshatriyas, those that hate and injure Brahmanas became Rakshasas. Ye best of Brahmanas, make arrangements then for our relief! Ye are competent to relieve all the worlds!' Hearing these words of theirs, those ascetics praised the great river. For the rescue of those Rakshasas, with rapt minds those ascetics said, 'The food over which one sneezed, that in which there are worms and insects, that which may be mixed with any leavings of dishes, that which is mixed with hair, that which is mixed with tears, that which is trodden upon shall form the portion of these Rakshasas! The learned man, knowing all this, shall carefully avoid these kinds of food. He that shall take such food shall be regarded as eating the food of Rakshasas!' Having purified the tirtha in this way, those ascetics thus solicited that river for the relief of those Rakshasas. Understanding the views of those great Rishis, that foremost of rivers caused her body, O bull among men, to assume a new shape called Aruna. Bathing in that new river (a branch of the Sarasvati) the Rakshasas cast off their bodies and went to heaven. Ascertaining all this, the chief of the celestials, (Indra of a hundred sacrifices), bathed in that foremost of tirthas and became cleansed of a grievous sin." Janamejaya said, "For what reason was Indra tainted with the sin of Brahmanicide? How also did he become cleansed by bathing in that tirtha?" Vaishampayana said, "Listen to that history, O ruler of men! Hear of those occurrences as they happened! Hear how Vasava, in days of yore, broke his treaty with Namuchi! The Asura Namuchi, from fear of Vasava, had entered a ray of the Sun. Indra then made friends with Namuchi and entered into a covenant with him, saying, 'O foremost of Asuras, I shall not slay thee, O friend, with anything that is wet or with anything that is dry! I shall not slay thee in the night or in the day! I swear this to thee by truth.' Having made this covenant, the lord Indra one day beheld a fog. He then, O king, cut off Namuchi's head, using the foam of water (as his weapon). The severed head of Namuchi thereupon pursued Indra from behind, saying unto him from a near point these words, 'O slayer of a friend, O wretch!' Urged on incessantly by that head, Indra repaired to the Grandsire and informed him, in grief, of what had occurred. The Supreme Lord of the universe said unto him, 'Performing a sacrifice, bathe with due rites, O chief of the celestials, in Aruna, that tirtha which saveth from the fear of sin! The water of that river, O Shakra, hath been made sacred by the Munis! Formerly the presence of that river at its site was concealed. The divine Sarasvati repaired to the Aruna, and flooded it with her waters. This confluence of Sarasvati and Aruna is highly sacred! Thither, O chief of the celestials, perform a sacrifice! Give away gifts in profusion! Performing thy ablutions there, thou shall be freed from thy sin.' Thus addressed, Shakra, at these words of Brahma, O Janamejaya, performed in that abode of Sarasvati diverse sacrifices. Giving away many gifts and bathing in that tirtha, he of a hundred sacrifices, the piercer of Vala, duly performed certain sacrifices and then plunged in the Aruna. He became freed from the sin arising out of the slaughter of a Brahmana. The lord of heaven then returned to heaven with a joyful heart. The head of Namuchi also fell into that stream, O Bharata, and the Asura obtained many eternal regions, O best of kings, that granted every wish." Vaishampayana continued, "The high-souled Baladeva having bathed in that tirtha and given away many kinds of gifts, obtained great merit. Of righteous deeds, he then proceeded to the great tirtha of Soma. There, in days of yore, Soma himself, O king of kings, had performed the Rajasuya sacrifice. The high-souled Atri, that foremost of Brahmanas, gifted with great intelligence became the Hotri in that grand sacrifice. Upon the conclusion of that sacrifice, a great battle took place between the gods (on the one side) and the Danavas, the Daityas, and the Rakshasas (on the other). That fierce battle is known after the name of (the Asura) Taraka. In that battle Skanda slew Taraka. There, on that occasion, Mahasena (Skanda), that destroyer of Daityas, obtained the command of the celestial forces. In that tirtha is a gigantic Aswattha tree. Under its shade, Kartikeya, otherwise called Kumara, always resides in person." 44 Janamejaya said, "Thou hast described the merits of the Sarasvati, O best of Brahmanas! It behoveth thee, O regenerate one, to describe to me the investiture of Kumara (by the gods). Great is the curiosity I feel. Tell me everything, therefore, about the time when and the place where and the manner in which the adorable and puissant lord Skanda was invested (with the command of the celestial forces). Tell me also, O foremost of speakers, who they were that invested him and who performed the actual rites, and how the celestial generalissimo made a great carnage of the Daityas!" Vaishampayana said, "This curiosity that thou feelest is worthy of thy birth in Kuru's race. The words that I shall speak, will, O Janamejaya, be conducive to thy pleasure. I shall narrate to thee the story of the investiture of Kumara and the prowess of that high-souled one, since, O ruler of men thou wishest to hear it! In days of yore the vital seed of Maheshvara coming out, fell into a blazing fire. The consumer of everything, the adorable Agni, could not burn that indestructible seed. On the other hand, the bearer of sacrificial libations, in consequence of that seed, became possessed of great energy and splendour. He could not bear within himself that seed of mighty energy. At the command of Brahman, the lord Agni, approaching (the river) Ganga, threw into her that divine seed possessed of the effulgence of the Sun. Ganga also, unable to hold it, cast it on the beautiful breast of Himavat that is worshipped by the celestials. Thereupon Agni's son began to grow there, overwhelming all the worlds by his energy. Meanwhile (the six) Krittikas beheld that child of fiery splendour. Seeing that puissant lord, that high-souled son of Agni, lying on a clump of heath, all the six Krittikas, who were desirous of a son, cried aloud, saying, 'This child is mine, this child is mine!' Understanding the state of mind of those six mothers, the adorable lord Skanda sucked the breasts of all having assumed six mouths. Beholding that puissance of the child, the Krittikas, those goddesses of beautiful forms, became filled with wonder. And since the adorable child had been cast by the river Ganga upon the summit of Himavat, that mountain looked beautiful, having, O delighter of the Kurus, been transformed into gold! With that growing child the whole Earth became beautiful, and it was for this reason that mountains (from that time) came to be producers of gold. Possessed of great energy, the child came to be called by the name of Kartikeya. At first he had been called by the name of Gangeya. He became possessed of high ascetic powers. Endued with self-restraint and asceticism and great energy, the child grew up, O monarch, into a person of highly agreeable features like Soma himself. Possessed of great beauty, the child lay on that excellent and golden clump of heath, adored and praised by Gandharvas and ascetics. Celestial girls, by thousands, conversant with celestial music and dance, and of very beautiful features, praised him and danced before him. The foremost of all rivers, Ganga, waited upon that god. The Earth also, assuming great beauty, held the child (on her lap). The celestial priest Brihaspati performed the usual rites after birth, in respect of that child. The Vedas assuming a four-fold form, approached the child with joined hands. The Science of arms, with its four divisions, and all the weapons as also all kinds of arrows, came to him. One day, the child, of great energy, saw that god of gods, the lord of Uma, seated with the daughter of Himavat, amid a swarm of ghostly creatures. Those ghostly creatures, of emaciated bodies, were of wonderful features. They were ugly and of ugly features, and wore awkward ornaments and marks. Their faces were like those of tigers and lions and bears and cats and makaras. Others were of faces like those of scorpions; others of faces like those of elephants and camels and owls. And some had faces like those of vultures and jackals. And some there were that had faces like those of cranes and pigeons and Kurus. And many amongst them had bodies like those of dogs and porcupines and iguanas and goats and sheep and cows. And some resembled mountains and some oceans, and some stood with uplifted discs and maces for their weapons. And some looked like masses of antimony and some like white mountains. The seven Matris also were present there, O monarch, and the Sadhyas, the Viswedevas, the Maruts, the Vasus, the Rudras, the Adityas, the Siddhas, the Danavas, the birds, the self-born and adorable Brahman with his sons, and Vishnu, and Shakra, all went thither for beholding that child of unfading glory. And many of the foremost of celestials and Gandharvas, headed by Narada and many celestial Rishis and Siddhas headed by Brihaspati, and the fathers of the universe, those foremost ones, they that are regarded as gods of the gods, and the Yamas and the Dharmas, all went there. Endued with great strength, the child possessed of great ascetic power, proceeded to the presence of that Lord of the gods, (Mahadeva), armed with trident and Pinaka. Seeing the child coming, the thought entered the mind of Siva, as it did that of Himavat's daughter and that of Ganga and of Agni, as to whom amongst the four the child would first approach for honouring him or her. Each of them thought, 'He will come to me!' Understanding that this was the expectation cherished by each of those four, he had recourse to his Yoga powers and assumed at the same time four different forms. Indeed the adorable and puissant lord assumed those four forms in an instant. The three forms that stood behind were Sakha and Visakha and Naigameya. The adorable and puissant one, having divided his self into four forms, (proceeded towards the four that sat expecting him). The form called Skanda of wonderful appearance proceeded to the spot where Rudra was sitting. Visakha went to the spot where the divine daughter of Himavat was. The adorable Sakha, which is Kartikeya's Vayu form proceeded towards Agni. Naigameya, that child of fiery splendour, proceeded to the presence of Ganga. All those forms, of similar appearance, were endued with great effulgence. The four forms proceeded calmly to the four gods and goddesses (already mentioned). All this seemed exceedingly wonderful. The gods, the Danavas, and the Rakshasas, made a loud noise at sight of that exceedingly wonderful incident making the very hair to stand on end. Then Rudra and the goddess Uma and Agni, and Ganga, all bowed unto the Grandsire, that Lord of the Universe. Having duly bowed unto him, O bull among kings, they said these words, O monarch, from desire of doing good unto Kartikeya. 'It behoveth thee, O Lord of the gods, to grant to this youth, for the sake of our happiness, some kind of sovereignty that may be suitable to him and that he may desire.' At this, the adorable Grandsire of all the worlds, possessed of great intelligence, began to think within his mind as to what he should bestow upon that youth. He had formerly given away unto the formless ones (gods) all kinds of wealth over which the high-souled celestials, the Gandharvas, the Rakshasas, ghosts, Yakshas, birds, and snakes have dominion. Brahma, therefore, regarded that youth to be fully entitled to that dominion (which had been bestowed upon the gods). Having reflected for a moment, the Grandsire, ever mindful of the welfare of the gods, bestowed upon him the status of a generalissimo among all creatures, O Bharata! And the Grandsire further ordered all those gods that were regarded as the chief of the celestials and other formless beings to wait upon him. Then the gods headed by Brahman, taking that youth with them, together came to Himavat. The spot they selected was the bank of the sacred and divine Sarasvati, that foremost of rivers, taking her rise from Himavat, that Sarasvati which, at Samanta-panchaka, is celebrated over the three worlds. There, on the sacred bank, possessing every merit, of the Sarasvati, the gods and the Gandharvas took their seats with hearts well-pleased in consequence of the gratification of all their desires." 45 Vaishampayana said, "Collecting all articles as laid down in the scriptures for the ceremony of investiture, Brihaspati duly poured libations on the blazing fire. Himavat gave a seat which was adorned with many costly gems. Kartikeya was made to sit on that auspicious and best of seats decked with excellent gems. The gods brought thither all kinds of auspicious articles, with due rites and mantras, that were necessary for a ceremony of the kind. The diverse gods--Indra and Vishnu, both of great energy, and Surya and Candramas, and Dhatri, and Vidhatri, and Vayu, and Agni, and Pushan, and Bhaga, and Aryaman, and Ansa, and Vivaswat, and Rudra of great intelligence, and Mitra, and the (eleven) Rudras, the (eight) Vasus, the (twelve) Adityas, the (twin) Ashvinis, the Viswedevas, the Maruts, the Saddhyas, the Pitris, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, the Pannagas, innumerable celestial Rishis, the Vaikhanasas, the Valakhilyas, those others (among Rishis) that subsist only on air and those that subsist on the rays of the Sun, the descendants of Bhrigu and Angiras, many high-souled Yatis, all the Vidyadharas, all those that were crowned with ascetic success, the Grandsire, Pulastya, Pulaha of great ascetic merits, Angiras, Kasyapa, Atri, Marichi, Bhrigu, Kratu, Hara, Prachetas, Manu, Daksha, the Seasons, the Planets, and all the luminaries; O monarch, all the rivers in their embodied forms, the eternal Vedas, the Seas, the diverse tirthas, the Earth, the Sky, the Cardinal and Subsidiary points of the compass, and all the Trees, O king, Aditi the mother of the gods, Hri, Sri, Swaha, Sarasvati, Uma, Sachi, Sinivali, Anumati, Kuhu, the Day of the new moon, the Day of the full Moon, the wives of the denizens of heaven, Himavat, Vindhya, Meru of many summits, Airavat with all his followers, the Divisions of time called Kala, Kashtha, Fortnight, the Seasons, Night, and Day, O king, the prince of steeds, Ucchaisravas, Vasuki the king of the Snakes, Aruna, Garuda, the Trees, the deciduous herbs, and the adorable god Dharma--all came there together. And there came also Kala, Yama, Mrityu, and the followers of Yama. From fear of swelling the list I do not mention the diverse other gods that came there. All of them came to that ceremony for investing Kartikeya with the status of generalissimo. All the denizens of heaven, O king, brought there everything necessary for the ceremony and every auspicious article. Filled with joy, the denizens of heaven made that high-souled youth, that terror of the Asuras, the generalissimo of the celestial forces, after pouring upon his head the sacred and excellent water of the Sarasvati from golden jars that contained other sacred articles needed for the purpose. The Grandsire of the worlds, Brahman, and Kasyapa of great energy, and the others (mentioned and) not mentioned, all poured water upon Skanda even as, O monarch, the gods had poured water on the head of Varuna, the lord of waters, for investing him with dominion. The lord Brahman then, with a gratified heart, gave unto Skanda four companions, possessed of great might, endued with speed like that of the wind, crowned with ascetic success, and gifted with energy which they could increase at will. They were named Nandisena and Lohitaksha and Ghantakarna and Kumudamalin. The lord Sthanu, O monarch, gave unto Skanda a companion possessed of great impetuosity, capable of producing a hundred illusions, and endued with might and energy that he could enhance at will. And he was the great destroyer of Asuras. In the great battle between the gods and the Asuras, this companion that Sthanu gave, filled with wrath, slew, with his hands alone, fourteen millions of Daityas of fierce deeds. The gods then made over to Skanda the celestial host, invincible, abounding with celestial troops, capable of destroying the enemies of the gods, and of forms like that of Vishnu. The gods then, with Vasava at their head, and the Gandharvas, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, the Munis, and the Pitris, all shouted, 'Victory (to Skanda)!' Then Yama gave him two companions, both of whom resembled Death, Unmatha and Pramatha, possessed of great energy and great splendour. Endued with great prowess, Surya, with a gratified heart, gave unto Kartikeya two of his followers named Subhraja and Bhaswara. Soma also gave him two companions, Mani and Sumani, both of whom looked like summits of the Kailasa mountain and always used white garlands and white unguents. Agni gave unto him two heroic companions, grinders of hostile armies, who were named Jwalajihbha and Jyoti. Ansa gave unto Skanda of great intelligence five companions, Parigha, and Vata, and Bhima of terrible strength, and Dahati and Dahana, both of whom were exceedingly fierce and possessed of great energy. Vasava that slayer of hostile heroes, gave unto Agni's son two companions, Utkrosa and Panchaka, who were armed respectively with thunder-bolt and club. These had in battle slain innumerable enemies of Shakra. The illustrious Vishnu gave unto Skanda three companions, Chakra and Vikrama and Sankrama of great might. The Ashvinis, O bull of Bharata's race, with gratified hearts, gave unto Skanda two companions Vardhana and Nandana, who had mastered all the sciences. The illustrious Dhatri gave unto that high-souled one five companions, Kunda, Kusuma, Kumuda, Damvara and Adamvara. Tvashtri gave unto Skanda two companions named Chakra and Anuchakra, both of whom were endued with great strength. The lord Mitra gave unto the high-souled Kumara two illustrious companions named Suvrata and Satyasandha, both of whom were endued with great learning and ascetic merit, possessed of agreeable features, capable of granting boons and celebrated over the three worlds. Vidhatri gave unto Kartikeya two companions of great celebrity, the high-souled Suprabha and Subhakarman. Pushan gave him, O Bharata, two companions, Panitraka and Kalika, both endued with great powers of illusion. Vayu gave him, O best of the Bharatas, two companions, Vala and Ativala, endued with great might and very large mouths. Varuna, firmly adhering to truth, gave him Ghasa and Atighasa of great might and possessed of mouths like those of whales. Himavat gave unto Agni's son two companions, O King, Suvarchas and Ativarchas. Meru, O Bharata, gave him two companions named Kanchana and Meghamalin. Manu also gave unto Agni's son two others endued with great strength and prowess, Sthira and Atisthira. Vindhya gave unto Agni's son two companions named Uschrita and Agnisringa both of whom fought with large stones. Ocean gave him two mighty companions named Sangraha and Vigraha, both armed with maces. Parvati of beautiful features gave unto Agni's son Unmada and Pushpadanta and Sankukarna. Vasuki, the king of the snakes, O tiger among men, gave unto the son of Agni two snakes named Jaya and Mahajaya. Similarly the Saddhyas, the Rudras, the Vasus, the Pitris, the Seas, the Rivers, and the Mountains, all endued with great might, gave commanders of forces, armed with lances and battle-axes and decked with diverse kinds of ornaments. Listen now to the names of those other combatants armed with diverse weapons and clad in diverse kinds of robes and ornaments, that Skanda procured. They were Sankukarna, Nilkumbha, Padmai, Kumud, Ananta, Dwadasabhuja, Krishna, Upakrishnaka, Ghranasravas, Kapiskandha, Kanchanaksha, Jalandhama, Akshasantarjana, Kunadika, Tamobhrakrit, Ekaksha, Dwadasaksha, Ekajata, Sahasravahu, Vikata, Vyaghraksha, Kshitikampana, Punyanaman, Sunaman, Suvaktra, Priyadarsana, Parisruta, Kokonada, Priyamalyanulepana, Ajodara, Gajasiras, Skandhaksha, Satalochana, Jwalajibha, Karala, Sitakesa, Jati, Hari, Krishnakesa, Jatadhara, Chaturdanshtra, Ashtajihva, Meghananda, Prithusravas, Vidyutaksha, Dhanurvaktra, Jathara, Marutasana, Udaraksha, Rathaksha, Vajranabha, Vasurprabha, Samudravega, Sailakampin, Vrisha, Meshapravaha, Nanda, Upadanka, Dhumra, Sweta, Kalinga, Siddhartha, Varada, Priyaka, Nanda, Gonanda, Ananda, Pramoda, Swastika, Dhruvaka, Kshemavaha, Subala, Siddhapatra, Govraja, Kanakapida, Gayana, Hasana, Vana, Khadga, Vaitali, Atitali, Kathaka, Vatika, Hansaja, Pakshadigdhanga, Samudronmadana, Ranotkata, Prashasa, Swetasiddha, Nandaka, Kalakantha, Prabhasa, Kumbhandaka, Kalakaksha, Sita, Bhutalonmathana, Yajnavaha, Pravaha, Devajali, Somapa, Majjala, Kratha Tuhara Chitradeva, Madhura, Suprasada, Kiritin, Vatsala, Madhuvarna, Kalasodara, Dharmada, Manma, Thakara, Suchivaktra, Swetavaktra, Suvaktra, Charuvaktra, Pandura, Dandavahu, Suvahu, Rajas, Kokilaka, Achala, Kanakaksha, Valakarakshaka, Sancharaka, Kokanada, Gridhrapatra, Jamvuka, Lohajvaktra, Javana, Kumbhavaktra, Kumbhaka, Mundagriva, Krishnaujas, Hansavaktra, Candrabha, Panikurchas, Samvuka, Panchavaktra, Sikshaka, Chasavaktra, Jamvuka, Kharvaktra, and Kunchaka. Besides these, many other high-souled and mighty companions, devoted to ascetic austerities and regardful of Brahmanas, were given unto him by the Grandsire. Some of them were in youth; some were old and some, O Janamejaya, were very young in years. Thousands upon thousands of such came to Kartikeya. They were possessed of diverse kinds of faces. Listen to me, O Janamejaya, as I describe them! Some had faces like those of tortoises, and some like those of cocks. The faces of some were very long, O Bharata. Some, again, had faces like those of dogs, and wolves, and hares, and owls, and asses, and camels, and hogs. Some had human faces and some had faces like those of sheep, and jackals. Some were terrible and had faces like those of makaras and porpoises. Some had faces like those of cats and some like those of biting flies; and the faces of some were very long. Some had faces like those of the mongoose, the owl, and the crow. Some had faces like those of mice and peacocks and fishes and goats and sheep and buffaloes. The faces of some resembled those of bears and tigers and leopards and lions. Some had faces like those of elephants and crocodiles. The faces of some resembled those of Garuda and the rhinoceros and the wolf. Some had faces like those of cows and mules and camels and cats. Possessed of large stomachs and large legs and limbs, some had eyes like stars. The faces of some resembled those of pigeons and bulls. Other had faces like those of kokilas and hawks and tittiras and lizards. Some were clad in white robes. Some had faces like those of snakes. The faces of some resembled those of porcupines. Indeed, some had frightful and some very agreeable faces; some had snakes for their clothes. The faces as also the noses of some resembled those of cows. Some had large limbs protruding stomachs but other limbs very lean; some had large limbs but lean stomachs. The necks of some were very short and the ears of some were very large. Some had diverse kinds of snakes for their ornaments. Some were clad in skins of large elephants, and some in black deer-skins. The mouths of some were on their shoulders. Some had mouths on their stomachs, some on their backs, some on their cheeks, some on their calves, and some on their flanks, and the mouths of many were placed on other parts of their bodies. The faces of many amongst those leaders of troops were like those of insects and worms. The mouths of many amongst them were like those of diverse beasts of prey. Some had many arms and some many heads. The arms of some resembled trees, and the heads of some were on their loins. The faces of some were tapering like the bodies of snakes. Many amongst them had their abodes on diverse kinds of plants and herbs. Some were clad in rags, some in diverse kinds of bones, some were diversely clad, and some were adorned in diverse kinds of garlands and diverse kinds of unguents. Dressed diversely, some had skins for their robes. Some had head-gears; the brows of some were furrowed into lines; the necks of some bore marks like those on conchshells, some were possessed of great effulgence. Some had diadems, some had five tufts of hair on their heads, and the hair of some was very hard. Some had two tufts, some three, and some seven. Some had feathers on their heads, some had crowns, some had heads that were perfectly bald, and some had matted locks. Some were adorned with beautiful garlands, and the faces of some were very hairy. Battle was the one thing in which they took great delight, and all of them were invincible by even the foremost ones amongst the gods. Many amongst them were clad in diverse kinds of celestial robes. All were fond of battle. Some were of dark complexion, and the faces of some had no flesh on them. Some had very long backs, and some had no stomachs. The backs of some were very large while those of some were very short. Some had long stomachs and the limbs of some were long. The arms of some were long while those of some were short. Some were dwarfs of short limbs. Some were hunch-backed. Some had short hips. The cars and heads of some were like those of elephants. Some had noses like those of tortoises, some like those of wolves. Some had long lips, some had long hips, and some were frightful, having their faces downwards. Some had very large teeth, some had very short teeth, and some had only four teeth. Thousands among them, O king, were exceedingly terrible, looking like infuriated elephants of gigantic size. Some were of symmetrical limbs, possessed of great splendour, and adorned with ornaments. Some had yellow eyes, some had ears like arrows, some had noses like gavials, O Bharata! Some had broad teeth, some had broad lips, and some had green hair. Possessed of diverse kinds of feet and lips and teeth, they had diverse kinds of arms and heads. Clad in diverse kinds of skins, they spoke diverse kinds of languages, O Bharata! Skilled in all provincial dialects, those puissant ones conversed with one another. Those mighty companions, filled with joy, gambolled there, cutting capers (around Kartikeya). Some were long-necked, some longnailed, some long-legged. Some amongst them were large-headed and some large-armed. The eyes of some were yellow. The throats of some were blue, and the ears of some were long, O Bharata. The stomachs of some were like masses of antimony. The eyes of some were white, the necks of some were red, and some had eyes of a tawny hue. Many were dark in colour and many, O king, were of diverse colours, O Bharata. Many had ornaments on their persons that looked like yak-tails. Some bore white streaks on their bodies, and some bore red streaks. Some were of diversified colours and some had golden complexions, and some were endued with splendours like those of the peacock. I shall describe to thee the weapons that were taken by those that came last to Kartikeya. Listen to me. Some had noses on their uplifted arms. Their faces were like those of tigers and asses. Their eyes were on their backs, their throats were blue, and their arms resembled spiked clubs. Some were armed with Sataghnis and discs, and some had heavy and short clubs. Some had swords and mallets and some were armed with bludgeons, O Bharata. Some, possessed of gigantic sizes and great strength, were armed with lances and scimitars. Some were armed with maces and Bhusundis and some had spears on their hands. Possessed of high souls and great strength and endued with great speed and great impetuosity, those mighty companions had diverse kinds of terrible weapons in their arms. Beholding the installation of Kartikeya, those beings of mighty energy, delighting in battle and wearing on their persons rows of tinkling bells, danced around him in joy. These and many other mighty companions, O king, came to the high-souled and illustrious Kartikeya. Some belonged to the celestial regions, some to the aerial, and some to the regions of the Earth. All of them were endued with speed like that of the wind. Commanded by the gods, those brave and mighty ones became the companions of Kartikeya. Thousands upon thousands, millions upon millions, of such beings came there at the installation of the high-souled Kartikeya and stood surrounding him." 46 Vaishampayana said, "Listen now to the large bands of the mothers, those slayers of foes, O hero, that became the companions of Kumara, as I mention their names. Listen, O Bharata, to the names of those illustrious mothers. The mobile and immobile universe is pervaded by those auspicious ones. They are Prabhavati, Vishalakshi, Palita, Gonasi, Shrimati, Bahula, Bahuputrika, Apsujata, Gopali, Brihadambalika, Jayavati, Malatika, Dhruvaratna, Bhayankari, Vasudama, Sudama, Vishoka, Nandini, Ekacuda, Mahacuda, Cakranemi, Uttejani, Jayatsena, Kamalakshi, Shobhana, Shatrunjaya, Shalabhi, Khari, Madhavi, Shubhavaktra, Tirthanemi, Gitapriya, Kalyani, Kadrula, Amitashana, Meghasvana, Bhogavati, Subhru, Kanakavati, Alatakshi, Viryavati, Vidyujjihva, Padmavati, Sunakshatra, Kandara, Bahuyojana, Santanika, Kamala, Mahabala, Sudama, Bahudama, Suprabha, Yashasvini, Nrityapriya, Shatolukhalamekhala, Shataghanta, Shatananda, Bhagananda, Bhamini, Vapushmati, Candrashita, Bhadrakali, Samkarika, Nishkutika, Bhrama, Catvaravasini, Sumangala, Svastimati, Vriddhikama, Jayapriya, Dhanada, Suprasada, Bhavada, Jaleshvari, Edi, Bhedi, Samedi, Vetalajanani, Kanduti, Kalika, Devamitra, Lambasi, Ketaki, Citrasena, Bala, Kukkutika, Shankhanika, Jarjarika, Kundarika, Kokalika, Kandara, Shatodari, Utkrathini, Jarena, Mahavega, Kankana, Manojava, Kantakini, Praghasa, Putana, Khashaya, Curvyuti, Vama, Kroshanatha, Taditprabha, Mandodari, Tunda, Kotara, Meghavasini, Subhaga, Lambini, Lamba, Vasucuda, Vikatthani, Urdhvavenidhara, Pingakshi, Lohamekhala, Prithuvaktra, Madhurika, Madhukumbha, Pakshalika, Manthanika, Jarayu, Jarjaranana, Khyata, Dahadaha, Dhamadhama, Khandakhanda, Pushana, Manikundala, Amogha, Lambapayodhara, Venuvinadhara, Pingakshi, Lohamekhala, Shasholukamukhi, Krishna, Kharajangha, Mahajava, Shishumaramukhi, Shveta, Lohitakshi, Vibhishana, Jatalika, Kamacari, Dirghajihva, Balotkata, Kaledika, Vamanika, Mukuta, Lohitakshi, Mahakaya, Haripindi, Ekakshara, Sukusuma, Krishnakarni, Kshurakarni, Catushkarni, Karnapravarana, Catushpathaniketa, Gokarni, Mahishanana, Kharakarni, Mahakarni, Bherisvanamahasvana, Shankhakumbhasvana, Bhangada, Gana, Sugana, Bhiti, Kamada, Catushpatharata, Bhutirtha, Anyagocara, Pashuda, Vittada, Sukhada, Mahayasha, Payoda, Gomahishada, Suvishana, Pratishtha, Supratishtha, Rocamana, Surocana, Naukarni, Mukhakarni, Sasira, Stherika, Ekacakra, Megharava, Meghamala, and Virocana. "These and many other mothers, O bull of Bharata's race, numbering by thousands, of diverse forms, became the followers of Kartikeya. Their nails were long, their teeth were large and their lips also, O Bharata, were protruding. Of straight forms and sweet features, all of them, endowed with youth, were decked with ornaments. Possessed of ascetic merit, they were capable of assuming any form at will. Having not much flesh on their limbs, they were of fair complexions and endued with splendour like that of gold. Some amongst them were dark and looked like clouds in hue and some were of the colour of smoke, O bull of Bharata's race. And some were endued with the splendour of the morning sun and were highly blessed. Possessed of long tresses, they were clad in robes of white. The braids of some were tied upwards, and the eyes of some were tawny, and some had girdles that were very long. Some had long stomachs, some had long ears, and some had long breasts. Some had coppery eyes and coppery complexion, and the eyes of some were green. "Capable of granting boons and of travelling at will, they were always cheerful. Possessed of great strength, some amongst them partook of the nature of Yama, some of Rudra, some of Soma, some of Kuvera, some of Varuna, some of Indra, and some of Agni, O scorcher of foes. And some partook of the nature of Vayu, some of Kumara, some of Brahma, O bull of Bharata's race, and some of Vishnu and some of Surya, and some of Varaha. "Of charming and delightful features, they were beautiful like the Asuras. In voice they resembled the kokila and in prosperity they resembled the Lord of Treasures. In battle, their energy resembled that of Shakra. In splendour they resembled fire. In battle they always inspired their foes with terror. Capable of assuming any form at will, in fleetness they resembled the very wind. Of inconceivable might and energy, their prowess also was inconceivable. "They have their abodes on trees and open spots and crossings of four roads. They live also in caves and crematoriums, mountains and springs. Adorned with diverse kinds of ornaments, they wear diverse kinds of attire, and speak diverse languages. These and many other tribes (of the mothers), all capable of inspiring foes with dread, followed the high-souled Kartikeya at the command of the chief of the celestials. "The adorable chastiser of Paka, O tiger among kings, gave unto Guha (Kartikeya) a dart for the destruction of the enemies of the gods. That dart produces a loud whiz and is adorned with many large bells. Possessed of great splendour, it seemed to blaze with light. And Indra also gave him a banner effulgent as the morning sun. Shiva gave him a large army, exceedingly fierce and armed with diverse kinds of weapons, and endued with great energy begotten of ascetic penances. Invincible and possessing all the qualities of a good army, that force was known by the name of Dhananjaya. It was protected by 30,000 warriors each of whom was possessed of might equal to that of Rudra himself. That force knew not how to fly from battle. Vishnu gave him a triumphal garland that enhances the might of the wearer. Uma gave him two pieces of cloth of effulgence like that of the Sun. With great pleasure Ganga gave unto Kumara a celestial water-pot, begotten of amrita, and Brihaspati gave him a sacred stick. Garuda gave him his favourite son, a peacock of beautiful feathers. Aruna gave him a cock of sharp talons. The royal Varuna gave him a snake of great energy and might. The lord Brahma gave unto that god devoted to Brahman a black deer-skin. And the Creator of all the worlds also gave him victory in all battles. "Having obtained the command of the celestial forces, Skanda looked resplendent like a blazing fire of bright flames. Accompanied by those companions and the mothers, he proceeded for the destruction of the Daityas, gladdening all the foremost of the gods. The terrible host of celestials, furnished with standards adorned with bells, and equipped with drums and conchs and cymbals, and armed with weapons, and decked with many banners, looked beautiful like the autumnal firmament bespangled with planets and stars. "Then that vast assemblage of celestials and diverse kinds of creatures began cheerfully to beat their drums and blow their conchs numbering thousands. And they also played on their patahas and jharjharas and krikacas and cow-horns and adambaras and gomukhas and dindimas of loud sound. All the gods, with Vasava at their head, praised Kumara. The celestials and the Gandharvas sang and the Apsaras danced. "Well-pleased (with these attentions) Skanda granted a boon unto all the gods, saying, 'I shall slay all your foes, them, that is, that desire to slay you.' Having obtained this boon from that best of gods, the illustrious celestials regarded their foes to be already slain. After Skanda had granted that boon, a loud sound arose from all those creatures inspired with joy, filling the three worlds. "Accompanied by that vast host, Skanda then set out for the destruction of the Daityas and the protection of the denizens of heaven. Exertion, and Victory, and Righteousness, and Success, and Prosperity, and Courage, and the Scriptures (in their embodied forms) proceeded in the van of Kartikeya's army, O king! With that terrible force, which was armed with lances, mallets, blazing brands, maces, heavy clubs, arrows, darts and spears, and which was decked with beautiful ornaments and armour, and which uttered roars like those of a proud lion, the divine Guha set out. "Beholding him, all the Daityas, Rakshasas and Danavas, anxious with fear, fled away on all sides. Armed with diverse weapons, the celestials pursued them. Seeing (the foe flying away), Skanda, endued with energy and might, became inflamed with wrath. He repeatedly hurled his terrible weapon, the dart (he had received from Agni). The energy that he then displayed resembled a fire fed with libations of clarified butter. While the dart was repeatedly hurled by Skanda of immeasurable energy, meteoric flashes, O king, fell upon the Earth. Thunderbolts also, with tremendous noise, fell upon the earth. Everything became as frightful O king, as it becomes on the day of universal destruction. When that terrible dart was once hurled by the son of Agni, millions of darts issued from it, O bull of Bharata's race. "The puissant and adorable Skanda, filled with joy, at last slew Taraka, the chief of the Daityas, endued with great might and prowess, and surrounded (in that battle) by a 100,000 heroic and mighty Daityas. He then, in that battle, slew Mahisha who was surrounded by eight padmas of Daityas. He next slew Tripada who was surrounded by a 1,000 ajutas of Daityas. The puissant Skanda then slew Hradodara, who was surrounded by ten nikharvas of Daityas, with all his followers armed with diverse weapons. Filling the ten points of the compass, the followers of Kumara, O king, made a loud noise while those Daityas were being slain, and danced and jumped and laughed in joy. "Thousands of Daityas, O king, were burnt with the flames that issued from Skanda's dart, while others breathed their last, terrified by the roars of Skanda. The three worlds were frightened at the yawns of Skanda's soldiers. The foes were consumed with flames produced by Skanda. Many were slain by his roars alone. Some amongst the foes of the gods, struck with banners, were slain. Some, frightened by the sounds of bells, fell down on the surface of the Earth. Some, mangled with weapons, fell down, deprived of life. In this way the heroic and mighty Kartikeya slew innumerable foes of the gods possessed of great strength that came to fight with him. "Then Bali's son Vana of great might, getting upon the Kraunca mountain, battled with the celestial host. Possessed of great intelligence, the great generalissimo Skanda rushed against that foe of the gods. From fear of Kartikeya, he took shelter within the Kraunca mountain. Inflamed with rage, the adorable Kartikeya then pierced that mountain with that dart given him by Agni. The mountain was called Kraunca (crane) because of the sound it always produced resembled the cry of a crane. That mountain was variegated with shala trees. The apes and elephants on it were affrighted. The birds that had their abode on it rose up and wheeled around in the welkin. The snakes began to dart down its sides. It resounded also with the cries of leopards and bears in large numbers that ran hither and thither in fear. Other forests on it rang with the cries of hundreds upon hundreds of animals. Sharabhas and lions suddenly ran out. In consequence of all this that mountain, though it was reduced to a very pitiable plight, still assumed a very beautiful aspect. The vidyadharas dwelling on its summits soared into the air. The kinnaras also became very anxious, distracted by the fear caused by the fall of Skanda's dart. The Daityas then, by hundreds and thousands, came out of that blazing mountain, all clad in beautiful ornaments and garlands. "The followers of Kumara, prevailing over them in battle, slew them all. The adorable Skanda, inflamed with rage, quickly slew the son of daitya chief (Bali) along with his younger brother, even as Indra had slain Vritra (in days before). The slayer of hostile heroes, Agni's son, pierced with his dart the Kraunca mountain, dividing his own self sometimes into many and sometimes uniting all his portions into one. Repeatedly hurled from his hand, the dart repeatedly came back to him. Even such was the might and glory of the adorable son of Agni. With redoubled heroism, and energy and fame and success, the god pierced the mountain and slew hundreds of Daityas. The adorable god, having thus slain the enemies of the celestials, was worshipped and honoured by the latter and obtained great joy. "After the Kraunca mountain had been pierced and after the son of Canda had been slain, drums were beaten, O king, and conchs were blown. The celestial ladies rained floral showers in succession upon that divine lord of yogis. Auspicious breezes began to blow, bearing celestial perfumes. The Gandharvas hymned his praises, as also great Rishis always engaged in the performance of sacrifices. Some speak of him as the puissant son of the Grandsire, Sanat-kumara, the eldest of all the sons of Brahma. Some speak of him as the son of Maheshvara, and some as that of Agni. Some again describe him as the son of Uma or of the Krittikas or of Ganga. Hundreds and thousands of people speak of that Lord of yogis of blazing form and great might, as the son of one of those, or of either of two of those, or of any one of four of those. "I have thus told thee, O king, everything about the installation of Kartikeya. Listen now to the history of the sacredness of that foremost of tirthas on the Sarasvati. That foremost of tirthas, O monarch, after the enemies of the gods had been slain, became a second heaven. The puissant son of Agni gave unto each of the foremost ones among the celestials diverse kinds of dominion and affluence and at last the sovereignty of the three worlds. Even thus, O monarch, was that adorable exterminator of the Daityas installed by the gods as their generalissimo. That other tirtha, O bull of Bharata's race, where in days of yore Varuna the lord of waters had been installed by the celestials, is known by the name of Taijasa. Having bathed in that tirtha and adored Skanda, Rama gave unto the Brahmanas gold and clothes and ornaments and other things. Passing one night there, that slayer of hostile heroes, Madhava, praising that foremost of tirthas and touching its water, became cheerful and happy. I have now told thee everything about which thou hadst enquired, how the divine Skanda was installed by the assembled gods!" 47 Janamejaya said, "This history, O regenerate one, that I have heard from thee is exceedingly wonderful, this narration, in detail, of the installation, according to due rites, of Skanda. O thou possessed of wealth of asceticism, I deem myself cleansed by having listened to this account. My hair stands on end and my mind hath become cheerful. Having heard the history of the installation of Kumara and the destruction of the Daityas, great hath been my joy. I feel a curiosity, however, in respect of another matter. How was the Lord of the waters installed by the celestials in that tirtha in days of yore? O best of men, tell me that, for thou art possessed of great wisdom and art skilled in narration!" Vaishampayana said, "Listen, O king, to this wonderful history of what transpired truly in a former Kalpa! In days of yore, in the Krita age, O king, all celestials, duly approaching Varuna, said unto him these words, 'As Shakra, the Lord of the celestials, always protects us from every fear, similarly be thou the Lord of all the rivers! Thou always residest, O god, in the Ocean, that home of makaras! This Ocean, the lord of rivers, will then be under thy dominion! Thou shalt then wax and wane with Soma!' (Thus addressed) Varuna answered them, saying, 'Let it be so!' All the celestials then, assembling together, made Varuna having his abode in the ocean the Lord of all the waters, according to the rites laid down in the scriptures. Having installed Varuna as the Lord of all aquatic creatures and worshipping him duly, the celestials returned to their respective abodes. Installed by the celestials, the illustrious Varuna began to duly protect seas and lakes and rivers and other reservoirs of water as Shakra protects the gods. Bathing in that tirtha also and giving away diverse kinds of gifts, Baladeva, the slayer of Pralamva, possessed of great wisdom, then proceeded to Agnitirtha, that spot where the eater of clarified butter, disappearing from the view, became concealed within the entrails of the Sami wood. When the light of all the worlds thus disappeared, O sinless one, the gods then repaired to the Grandsire of the universe. And they said, 'The adorable Agni has disappeared. We do not know the reason. Let not all creatures be destroyed. Create fire, O puissant Lord!'" Janamejaya said, "For what reason did Agni, the Creator of all the worlds, disappear? How also was he discovered by the gods? Tell me all this in detail." Vaishampayana said, "Agni of great energy became very much frightened at the curse of Bhrigu. Concealing himself within the entrails of the Sami wood, that adorable god disappeared from the view. Upon the disappearance of Agni, all the gods, with Vasava at their head, in great affliction, searched for the missing god. Finding Agni then, they saw that god lying within the entrails of the Sami wood. The celestials, O tiger among king, with Brihaspati at their head, having succeeded in finding out the god, became very glad with Vasava amongst them. They then returned to the places they had come from. Agni also, from Bhrigu's curse, became an eater of everything, as Bhrigu, that utterer of Brahma, had said. The intelligent Balarama, having bathed there, then proceeded to Brahmayoni where the adorable Grandsire of all the worlds had exercised his functions of creations. In days of yore, the Lord Brahman, along with all the gods, bathed in that tirtha, according to due rites for the celestials. Bathing there and giving away diverse kinds of gifts, Valadeva then proceeded to the tirtha called Kauvera where the puissant Ailavila, having practised severe austerities, obtained, O king, the Lordship over all treasures. While he dwelt there (engaged in austerities), all kinds of wealth, and all the precious gems came to him of their own accord. Baladeva having repaired to that tirtha and bathed in its waters duly gave much wealth unto the Brahamanas. Rama beheld at that spot the excellent woods of Kuvera. In days of yore, the high-souled Kuvera, the chief of the Yakshas, having practised the severest austerities there, obtained many boons. There were the lordship of all treasures, the friendship of Rudra possessed of immeasurable energy, the status of a god, the regency over a particular point of the compass (the north), and a son named Nakakuvera. These the chief of the Yakshas speedily obtained there, O thou of mighty arms! The Maruts, coming there, installed him duly (in his sovereignty). He also obtained for a vehicle a well-equipped and celestial car, fleet as thought, as also all the affluence of a god. Bathing in that tirtha and giving away much wealth, Vala using white unguents thence proceeded quickly to another tirtha. Populous with all kinds of creatures, that tirtha is known by the name Vadarapachana. There the fruits of every season are always to be found and flowers and fruits of every kind are always abundant." 48 Vaishampayana said, "Rama (as already said) then proceeded to the tirtha called Vadarapachana where dwelt many ascetics and Siddhas. There the daughter of Bharadwaja, unrivalled on earth for beauty, named Sruvavati, practised severe austerities. She was a maiden who led the life of a Brahmacharini. That beautiful damsel, observing diverse kinds of vows, practised the austerest of penances, moved by the desire of obtaining the Lord of the celestials for her husband. Many years passed away, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, during which that damsel continually observed those diverse vows exceedingly difficult of being practised by women. The adorable chastiser of Paka at last became gratified with her in consequence of that conduct and those penances of hers and that high regard she showed for him. The puissant Lord of the celestials then came to that hermitage, having assumed the form of the high-souled and regenerate Rishi Vasishtha. Beholding that foremost of ascetics, Vasishtha, of the austerest penances, she worshipped him, O Bharata according to the rites observed by ascetics. Conversant with vows, the auspicious and sweet-speeched damsel addressed him, saying, 'O adorable one, O tiger among ascetics, tell me thy commands, O lord! O thou of excellent vows, I shall serve thee according to the measure of my might! I will not, however, give thee my hand, in consequence of my regard for Shakra! I am seeking to please Shakra, the lord of the three worlds, with vows and rigid observances and ascetic penances!' Thus addressed by her, the illustrious god, smiling as he cast his eyes on her, and knowing her observances, addressed her sweetly, O Bharata, saying, 'Thou practisest penances of the austerest kind! This is known to me, O thou of excellent vows! That object also, cherished in thy heart, for the attainment of which thou strivest, O auspicious one, shall, O thou of beautiful face, be accomplished for thee! Everything is attainable by penances. Everything rests on penances. All those regions of blessedness, O thou of beautiful face, that belong to the gods can be obtained by penances. Penances are the root of great happiness. Those men that cast off their bodies after having practised austere penances, obtain the status of gods, O auspicious one! Bear in mind these words of mine! Do thou now, O blessed damsel, boil these five jujubes, O thou of excellent vows!' Having said these words, the adorable slayer of Vala went away, taking leave, to mentally recite certain mantras at an excellent tirtha not far from that hermitage. That tirtha came to be known in the three worlds after the name of Indra, O giver of honours! Indeed, it was for the purpose of testing the damsel's devotion that the Lord of the celestials acted in that way for obstructing the boiling of the jujubes. The damsel, O king, having cleansed herself, began her task; restraining speech and with attention fixed on it, she sat to her task without feeling any fatigue. Even thus that damsel of high vows, O tiger among kings, began to boil those jujubes. As she sat employed in her task, O bull among men, day was about to wane, but yet those jujubes showed no signs of having been softened. The fuel she had there was all consumed. Seeing the fire about to die away owing to want of fuel, she began to burn her own limbs. The beautiful maiden first thrust her feet into the fire. The sinless damsel sat still while her feet began to be consumed. The faultless girl did not at all mind her burning feet. Difficult of accomplishment, she did it from desire of doing good to the Rishi (that had been her guest). Her face did not at all change under that painful process, nor did she feel any cheerlessness on that account. Having thrust her limbs into the fire, she felt as much joy as if she had dipped them into cool water. The words of the Rishi, 'Cook these jujubes well' were borne in her mind, O Bharata! The auspicious damsel, bearing those words of the great Rishi in her mind, began to cook those jujubes although the latter, O king, showed no signs of softening. The adorable Agni himself consumed her feet. For this, however, the maiden did not feel the slightest pain. Beholding this act of hers, the Lord of the three worlds became highly satisfied. He then showed himself in his own proper form to the damsel. The chief of the celestials then addressed that maiden of very austere vows saying, 'I am pleased at thy devotion, thy penances, and thy vows! The wish, therefore, O auspicious one, that thou cherishest shall be accomplished! Casting off thy body, O blessed one, thou shalt in heaven live with me! This hermitage, again, shall become the foremost of tirthas in the world, capable of cleansing from every sin, O thou of fair eye-brows, and shall be known by the name of Vadarapachana. It shall be celebrated in the three worlds and shall be praised by great Rishis. In this very tirtha, O auspicious, sinless, and highly blessed one, the seven Rishis had, on one occasion, left Arundhati, (the wife of one of them), when they went to Himavat. Those highly blessed ones of very rigid vows, had gone there for gathering fruits and roots for their sustenance. While they thus lived in a forest of Himavat for procuring their sustenance, a drought occurred extending for twelve years. Those ascetics, having made an asylum for themselves, continued to live there. Meanwhile Arundhati devoted herself to ascetic penances (at the spot where she had been left). Beholding Arundhati devoted to the austerest of vows, the boon-giving and three-eyed deity (Mahadeva) highly pleased, came there. The great Mahadeva, assuming the form of a Brahmana, came to her and said, "I desire alms, O auspicious one!" The beautiful Arundhati said unto him, "Our store of food hath been exhausted, O Brahmana! Do thou eat jujubes!" Mahadeva replied, "Cook these jujubes, O thou of excellent vows!" After these words, she began to cook those jujubes for doing what was agreeable to that Brahmana. Placing those jujubes on the fire, the celebrated Arundhati listened to diverse excellent and charming and sacred discourses (from the lips of Mahadeva). That twelve years' drought then passed away (as if it were a single day). Without food, and employed in cooking and listening to those auspicious discourses, that terrible period passed away, as if it were a single day to her. Then the seven Rishis, having procured fruits from the mountain, returned to that spot. The adorable Mahadeva, highly pleased with Arundhati, said unto her, "Approach, as formerly, these Rishis, O righteous one! I have been gratified with thy penances and vows!" The adorable Hara then stood confessed in his own form. Gratified, he spoke unto them about the noble conduct of Arundhati (in these words) "The ascetic merit, ye regenerate ones, that this lady hath earned, is, I think, much greater than what ye have earned on the breast of Himavat! The penances practised by this lady have been exceedingly austere, for she passed twelve years in cooking, herself fasting all the while!" The divine Mahadeva then, addressing Arundhati, said unto her, "Solicit thou the boon, O auspicious dame, which is in thy heart!" Then that lady of large eyes that were of a reddish hue addressed that god in the midst of the seven Rishis, saying, "If, O divine one thou art gratified with me, then let this spot be an excellent tirtha! Let it be known by the name of Vadarapachana and let it be the favourite resort of Siddhas and celestial Rishis. So also, O god of gods, let him who observes a fast here and resides for three nights after having cleansed himself, obtain the fruit of a twelve years' fast!" The god answered her, saying, "Let it be so!" Praised by the seven Rishis, the god then repaired to heaven. Indeed the Rishis had been filled with wonder at the sight of the god and upon beholding the chaste Arundhati herself unspent and still possessed of the hue of health and so capable of bearing hunger and thirst. Even thus the pure-souled Arundhati, in days of old, obtained the highest success, like thee, O highly blessed lady, for my sake, O damsel of rigid vows! Thou, however, O amiable maiden, hast practised severer penances! Gratified with thy vows, I shall also grant thee this special boon, O auspicious one, a boon that is superior to what was granted to Arundhati. Through the power of the high-souled god who had granted that boon to Arundhati and through the energy of thyself, O amiable one, I shall duly grant thee another boon now, that the person who will reside in this tirtha for only one night and bathe here with soul fixed (on meditation), will, after casting off his body obtain many regions of blessedness that are difficult of acquisition (by other means)!' Having said these words unto the cleansed Sruvavati, the thousand-eyed Shakra of great energy then went back to heaven. After the wielder of the thunderbolt, O king, had departed, a shower of celestial flowers of sweet fragrance fell there, O chief of Bharata's race! Celestial kettle-drums also, of loud sound, were beaten there. Auspicious and perfumed breezes also blew there, O monarch! The auspicious Sruvavati then, casting off her body, became the spouse of Indra. Obtaining the status through austere penances, she began to pass her time, sporting with him for ever and ever." Janamejaya said, "Who was the mother of Sruvavati, and how was that fair damsel reared? I desire to hear this, O Brahmana, for the curiosity I feel is great." Vaishampayana said, "The vital seed of the regenerate and high-souled Rishi Bharadwaja fell, upon beholding the large-eyed Apsara Ghritachi as the latter was passing at one time. That foremost of ascetics thereupon held it in his hand. It was then kept in a cup made of the leaves of a tree. In that cup was born the girl Sruvavati. Having performed the usual post-genital rites, the great ascetic Bharadwaja, endued with wealth of penances, gave her a name. The name the righteous-souled Rishi gave her in the presence of the gods and Rishis was Sruvavati. Keeping the girl in his hermitage, Bharadwaja repaired to the forests of Himavat. That foremost one among the Yadus, Baladeva of great dignity, having bathed in that tirtha and given away much wealth unto many foremost of Brahmanas, then proceeded, with soul well-fixed on meditation, to the tirtha of Sakta." 49 Vaishampayana said, "The mighty chief of the Yadus, having proceeded to Indra's tirtha, bathed there according to due rites and gave away wealth and gems unto the Brahmanas. There the chief of the celestials had performed a hundred horse sacrifices and given away enormous wealth unto Brihaspati. Indeed, through the assistance of Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas, Shakra performed all those sacrifices there, according to rites ordained (in the scriptures). Those sacrifices were such that everything in them was unstinted. Steeds of all kinds were brought there. The gifts to Brahmanas were profuse. Having duly completed those hundred sacrifices, O chief of the Bharatas, Shakra of great splendour came to be called by the name of Satakratu. That auspicious and sacred tirtha, capable of cleansing from every sin, thereupon came to be called after his name as Indra-tirtha. Having duly bathed there, Baladeva worshipped the Brahmanas with presents of excellent food and robes. He then proceeded to that auspicious and foremost of tirthas called after the name of Rama. The highly blessed Rama of Bhrigu's race, endued with great ascetic merit, repeatedly subjugated the Earth and slew all the foremost of Kshatriyas. (After achieving such feats) Rama performed in that tirtha a Vajapeya sacrifice and a hundred horse sacrifices through the assistance of his preceptor Kasyapa, that best of Munis. There, as sacrificial fee, Rama gave unto his preceptor the whole earth with her oceans. The great Rama, having duly bathed there, made presents unto the Brahmanas, O Janamejaya, and worshipped them thus. Having made diverse present consisting of diverse kinds of gems as also kine and elephants and female slaves and sheep and goats, he then retired into the woods. Having bathed in that sacred and foremost of tirthas that was the resort of gods and regenerate Rishis, Baladeva duly worshipped the ascetics there, and then proceeded to the tirtha called Yamuna. Endued with great effulgence, Varuna, the highly blessed son of Aditi, had in days of yore performed in that tirtha the Rajasuya sacrifice, O lord of Earth! Having in battle subjugated both men and celestials and Gandharvas and Rakshasas, Varuna, O king, that slayer of hostile heroes, performed his grand sacrifice in that tirtha. Upon the commencement of that foremost of sacrifices, a battle ensued between the gods and the Danavas inspiring the three worlds with terror. After the completion of that foremost of sacrifices, the Rajasuya (of Varuna), a terrible battle, O Janamejaya, ensued amongst the Kshatriyas. The ever-liberal and puissant Baladeva having worshipped the Rishis there, made many presents unto those that desired them. Filled with joy and praised by the great Rishis, Baladeva, that hero ever decked with garlands of wild flowers and possessed of eyes like lotus leaves, then proceeded to the tirtha called Aditya. There, O best of kings, the adorable Surya of great splendour, having performed a sacrifice, obtained the sovereignty of all luminous bodies (in the universe) and acquired also his great energy. There, in that tirtha situated on the bank of that river, all the gods with Vasava at their head, the Viswedevas, the Maruts, the Gandharvas, the Apsaras, the Island-born (Vyasa), Suka, Krishna the slayer of Madhu, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, and the Pisachas, O king, and diverse others, numbering by thousands, all crowned with ascetic success, always reside. Indeed in that auspicious and sacred tirtha of the Sarasvati, Vishnu himself, having in days of yore slain the Asuras, Madhu and Kaitabha, had, O chief of the Bharatas, performed his ablutions. The island-born (Vyasa) also, of virtuous soul, O Bharata, having bathed in that tirtha, obtained great Yoga powers and attained to high success. Endued with great ascetic merit, the Rishi Asita-Devala also, having bathed in that very tirtha with soul rapt in high Yoga meditation, obtained great Yoga powers." 50 Vaishampayana said, "In that tirtha lived in days of yore a Rishi of virtuous soul, named Asita-Devala, observant of the duties of Domesticity. Devoted to virtue, he led a life of purity and self-restraint. Possessed of great ascetic merit, he was compassionate unto all creatures and never injured anyone. In word, deed, and thought, he maintained an equal behaviour towards all creatures. Without wrath, O monarch, censure and praise were equal to him. Of equal attitude towards the agreeable and the disagreeable, he was, like Yama himself, thoroughly impartial. The great ascetic looked with an equal eye upon gold and a heap of pebbles. He daily worshipped the gods and guests, and Brahmanas (that came to him). Ever devoted to righteousness, he always practised the vow of brahmacarya. Once upon a time, an intelligent ascetic, O monarch, of the name of Jaigishavya, devoted to Yoga and rapt in meditation and leading the life of a mendicant, came to Devala's asylum. Possessed of great splendour, that great ascetic, ever devoted to Yoga, O monarch, while residing in Devala's asylum, became crowned with ascetic success. Indeed, while the great Muni Jaigishavya resided there, Devala kept his eyes on him, never neglecting him at any time. Thus, O monarch, a long time was passed by the two in days of yore. On one occasion, Devala lost sight of Jaigishavya, that foremost of ascetics. At the hour, however, of dinner, O Janamejaya, the intelligent and righteous ascetic, leading a life of mendicancy, approached Devala for soliciting alms. Beholding that great ascetic re-appear in the guise of a mendicant, Devala showed him great honour and expressed much gratification. And Devala worshipped his guest, O Bharata, according to the measure of his abilities, after the rites laid down by the Rishis and with great attention for many years. One day, however, O king, in the sight of that great Muni, a deep anxiety perturbed the heart of the highsouled Devala. The latter thought within himself, 'Many years have I passed in worshipping this ascetic. This idle mendicant, however, hath not yet spoken to me a single word!' Having thought of this, the blessed Devala proceeded to the shores of the ocean, journeying through the welkin and bearing his earthen jug with him. Arrived at the coast of the Ocean, that lord of rivers, O Bharata, the righteous-souled Devala saw Jaigishavya arrived there before him. The lord Asita, at this sight, became filled with wonder and thought within himself, 'How could the mendicant come to the ocean and perform his ablutions even before my arrival?' Thus thought the great Rishi Asita. Duly performing his ablutions there and purifying himself thereby, he then began to silently recite the sacred mantras. Having finished his ablutions and silent prayers, the blessed Devala returned to his asylum, O Janamejaya, bearing with him his earthen vessel filled with water. As the ascetic, however, entered his own asylum, he saw Jaigishavya seated there. The great ascetic Jaigishavya never spoke a word to Devala, but lived in the latter's asylum as if he were a piece of wood. Having beheld that ascetic, who was an ocean of austerities, plunged in the waters of the sea (before his own arrival there), Asita now saw him returned to his hermitage before his own return. Witnessing this power, derived through Yoga, of Jaigishavya's penances, Asita Devala, O king, endued with great intelligence, began to reflect upon the matter. Indeed that best of ascetics, O monarch, wondered much, saying, 'How could this one be seen in the ocean and again in my hermitage?' While absorbed in such thoughts, the ascetic Devala, conversant with mantras, then soared aloft, O monarch, from his hermitage into the sky, for ascertaining who Jaigishavya, wedded to a life of mendicancy, really was. Devala saw crowds of sky-ranging Siddhas rapt in meditation, and he saw Jaigishavya reverentially worshipped by those Siddhas. Firm in the observance of his vows and persevering (in his efforts), Devala became filled with wrath at the sight. He then saw Jaigishavya set out for heaven. He next beheld him proceed to the region of the Pitris. Devala saw him then proceed to the region of Yama. From Yama's region the great ascetic Jaigishavya was then seen to soar aloft and proceed to the abode of Soma. He was then seen to proceed to the blessed regions (one after another) of the performers of certain rigid sacrifices. Thence he proceeded to the regions of the Agnihotris and thence to the region of those ascetics that perform the Darsa and the Paurnamasa sacrifices. The intelligent Devala then saw him proceed from those regions of persons performing sacrifices by killing animals to that pure region which is worshipped by the very gods. Devala next saw the mendicant proceed to the place of those ascetics that perform the sacrifice called Chaturmasya and diverse others of the same kind. Thence he proceeded to the region belonging to the performers of the Agnishtoma sacrifice. Devala then saw his guest repair to the place of those ascetics that perform the sacrifice called Agnishutta. Indeed, Devala next saw him in the regions of those highly wise men that perform the foremost of sacrifices, Vajapeya, and that other sacrifice in which a profusion of gold is necessary. Then he saw Jaigishavya in the region of those that perform the Rajasuya and the Pundarika. He then saw him in the regions of those foremost of men that perform the horse-sacrifice and the sacrifice in which human beings are slaughtered. Indeed, Devala saw Jaigishavya in the regions also of those that perform the sacrifice called Sautramani and that other in which the flesh, so difficult to procure, of all living animals, is required. Jaigishavya was then seen in the regions of those that perform the sacrifice called Dadasaha and diverse others of similar character. Asita next saw his guest sojourning in the region of Mitravaruna and then in that of the Adityas. Asita then saw his guest pass through the regions of the Rudras, the Vasus and Brihaspati. Having soared next into the blessed region called Goloka, Jaigishavya was next seen to pass into these of the Brahmasatris. Having by his energy passed through three other regions, he was seen to proceed to those regions that are reserved for women that are chaste and devoted to their husbands. Asita, however, at this point, O chastiser of foes, lost sight of Jaigishavya, that foremost of ascetics, who, rapt in yoga, vanished from his sight. The highly blessed Devala then reflected upon the power of Jaigishavya and the excellence of his vows as also upon the unrivalled success of his yoga. Then the self-restrained Asita, with joined hands and in a reverential spirit, enquired of those foremost of Siddhas in the regions of the Brahmasatris, saying, 'I do not see Jaigishavya! Tell me where that ascetic of great energy is. I desire to hear this, for great is my curiosity.' "The Siddhis said, 'Listen, O Devala of rigid vows, as we speak to thee the truth. Jaigishavya hath gone to the eternal region of Brahman.'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing these words of those Siddhas residing in the regions of the Brahmasatris, Asita endeavoured to soar aloft but he soon fell down. The Siddhas then, once more addressing Devala, said unto him, 'Thou, O Devala, art not competent to proceed thither, to the abode of Brahman, whither Jaigishavya hath gone!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing those words of the Siddhas, Devala came down, descending from one region to another in due order. Indeed, he repaired to his own sacred asylum very quickly, like a winged insect. As soon as he entered his abode he beheld Jaigishavya seated there. Then Devala, beholding the power derived through Yoga of Jaigishavya's penances, reflected upon it with his righteous understanding and approaching that great ascetic, O king, with humility, addressed the high-souled Jaigishavya, saying, 'I desire, O adorable one, to adopt the religion of Moksha (Emancipation)!' Hearing these words of his, Jaigishavya gave him lessons. And he also taught him the ordinances of Yoga and the supreme and eternal duties and their reverse. The great ascetic, seeing him firmly resolved, performed all the acts (for his admission into that religion) according to the rites ordained for that end. Then all creatures, with the Pitris, beholding Devala resolved to adopt the religion of Moksha, began to weep, saying, 'Alas, who will henceforth give us food!' Hearing these lamentations of all creatures that resounded through the ten points, Devala set his heart upon renouncing the religion of Moksha. Then all kinds of sacred fruits and roots, O Bharata, and flowers and deciduous herbs, in thousands, began to weep, saying, 'The wicked-hearted and mean Devala will, without doubt, once more pluck and cut us! Alas, having once assured all creatures of his perfect harmlessness, he sees not the wrong that he meditates to do!' At this, that best of ascetics began to reflect with the aid of his understanding, saying, 'Which amongst these two, the religion of Moksha or that of Domesticity, will be the better for me?' Reflecting upon this, Devala, O best of kings, abandoned the religion of Domesticity and adopted that of Moksha. Having indulged in those reflections, Devala, in consequence of that resolve obtained the highest success, O Bharata, and the highest Yoga. The celestials then, headed by Brihaspati, applauded Jaigishavya and the penances of that ascetic. Then that foremost of ascetics, Narada, addressing the gods, said, 'There is no ascetic penance in Jaigishavya since he filled Asita with wonder!' The denizens of heaven then, addressing Narada who said such frightful words, said, 'Do not say so about the great ascetic Jaigishavya! There is no one superior or even equal to this high-souled one in force of energy and penance and Yoga!' Even such was the power of Jaigishavya as also of Asita. This is the place of those two, and this the tirtha of those two high-souled persons. Bathing there and giving away wealth unto the Brahmanas, the high-souled wielder of the plough, of noble deeds, earned great merit and then proceeded to the tirtha of Soma." 51 Vaishampayana said, "There, in that tirtha, O Bharata, where the Lord of stars had in former days performed the rajasuya sacrifice, a great battle was fought in which Taraka was the root of the evil. Bathing in that tirtha and making many presents, the virtuous Bala of cleansed soul proceeded to the tirtha of the muni named Sarasvata. There, during a drought extending for twelve years, the sage Sarasvata, in former days, taught the Vedas unto many foremost of Brahmanas." Janamejaya said, "Why did the sage Sarasvata, O thou of ascetic merit, teach the Vedas unto the Rishis during a twelve years' drought?" Vaishampayana continued, "In days of yore, O monarch, there was an intelligent sage of great ascetic merit. He was celebrated by the name of Dadhica. Possessing a complete control over his senses, he led the life of a brahmacari. In consequence of his excessive ascetic austerities Shakra was afflicted with a great fear. The sage could not be turned (away from his penance) by the offer of even diverse kinds of rewards. At last the chastiser of Paka, for tempting the sage, despatched unto him the exceedingly beautiful and celestial apsara, by name Alambusa. Thither where on the banks of the Sarasvati the high-souled sage was engaged in the act of gratifying the gods, the celestial damsel named above, O monarch, made her appearance. Beholding that damsel of beautiful limbs, the vital seed of that ascetic of cleansed soul came out. It fell into the Sarasvati, and the latter held it with care. Indeed, O bull among men, the River, beholding that seed, held it in her womb. In time the seed developed into a foetus and the great river held it so that it might be inspired with life as a child. When the time came, the foremost of rivers brought forth that child and then went, O lord, taking it with her, to that rishi. "Beholding that best of Rishis in a conclave, Sarasvati, O monarch, while making over the child, said these words, 'O regenerate rishi, this is thy son whom I held through devotion for thee! That seed of thine which fell at sight of the apsara Alambusa, had been held by me in my womb, O regenerate rishi, through devotion for thee, well knowing that that energy of thine would never suffer destruction! Given by me, accept this faultless child of thy own!' Thus addressed by her, the rishi accepted the child and felt great joy. Through affection, that foremost of Brahmanas then smelt the head of his son and held him in a close embrace, O foremost one of Bharata's race, for some time. Gratified with the River, the great ascetic Dadhica then gave a boon to her, saying, 'The Vishvadevas, the Rishis, and all the tribes of the Gandharvas and the Apsaras, will henceforth, O blessed one, derive great happiness when oblations of thy water are presented unto them!' "Having said so unto that great river, the sage, gratified and filled with joy, then praised her in these words. Listen to them duly, O king! 'Thou hast taken thy rise, O highly blessed one, from the lake of Brahman in days of old. All ascetics of rigid vows know thee, O foremost of rivers! Always of agreeable features, thou hast done me great good! This thy great child, O thou of the fairest complexion, will be known by the name of Sarasvata! This thy son, capable of creating new worlds, will become known after thy name! Indeed, that great ascetic will be known by the name of Sarasvata! During a drought extending for twelve years, this Sarasvata, O blessed one, will teach the Vedas unto many foremost of Brahmanas! O blessed Sarasvati, through my grace, thou shalt, O beautiful one, always become the foremost of all sacred rivers!' Even thus was the great River praised by the sage after the latter had granted her boons. The River then, in great joy, went away, O bull of Bharata's race, taking with her that child. "Meanwhile, on the occasion of a war between the gods and the Danavas, Shakra wandered through the three worlds in search of weapons. The great god, however, failed to find such weapons as were fit to slay the foes of the celestials. Shakra then said unto the gods. 'The great Asuras are incapable of being dealt with by me! Indeed, without the bones of Dadhica, our foes could not be slain! Ye best of celestials, repair, therefore, to that foremost of Rishis and solicit him, saying, "Grant us, O Dadhica, thy bones! With them we will slay our foes!"' "Besought by them for his bones, that foremost of Rishis, O chief of Kuru's race, unhesitatingly gave up his life. Having done what was agreeable to the gods, the sage obtained many regions of inexhaustible merit. With his bones, meanwhile, Shakra joyfully caused to be made many kinds of weapons, such as thunderbolts, discs, heavy maces, and many kinds of clubs and bludgeons. Equal unto the Creator himself, Dadhica, had been begotten by the great rishi Bhrigu, the son of the Lord of all creatures, with the aid of his austere penances. Of stout limbs and possessed of great energy, Dadhica had been made the strongest of creatures in the world. The puissant Dadhica, celebrated for his glory, became tall like the king of mountains. The chastiser of Paka had always been anxious on account of his energy. With the thunderbolt born of brahma energy, and inspired with mantras, O Bharata, Indra made a loud noise when he hurled it, and slew nine and ninety heroes among the Daityas. After a long and dreadful time had elapsed since then, a drought, O king, occurred that extended for twelve years. During that drought extending for twelve years, the great Rishis, for the sake of sustenance, fled away, O monarch, on all sides. "Beholding them scattered in all directions, the sage Sarasvata also set his heart on flight. The river Sarasvati then said unto him, 'Thou needst not, O son, depart hence, for I will always supply thee with food even here by giving thee large fishes! Stay thou, therefore, even here!' Thus addressed (by the river), the sage continued to live there and offer oblations of food unto the Rishis and the gods. He got also his daily food and thus continued to support both himself and the gods. "After that twelve year's drought had passed away, the great Rishis solicited one another for lectures on the Vedas. While wandering with famished stomachs, the Rishis had lost the knowledge of the Vedas. There was, indeed, not one amongst them that could understand the scriptures. It chanced that someone amongst them encountered Sarasvata, that foremost of Rishis, while the latter was reading the Vedas with concentrated attention. Coming back to the conclave of Rishis, he spoke to them of Sarasvata of unrivalled splendour and god-like mien engaged in reading the Vedas in a solitary forest. Then all the great Rishis came to that spot, and jointly spoke unto Sarasvata, that best of ascetics, these words, 'Teach us, O sage!' Unto them the ascetic replied, saying, 'Become ye my disciples duly!' The conclave of ascetics answered, 'O son, thou art too young in years!' Thereupon he answered the ascetics, 'I must act in such a way that my religious merit may not suffer a diminution! He that teaches improperly, and he that learns improperly, are both lost in no time and come to hate each other! It is not upon years, or decrepitude, or wealth, or the number of kinsmen, that Rishis found their claim to merit! He amongst us is great who is capable of reading and understanding the Vedas!' "Hearing these words of his, those munis duly became his disciples and obtaining from him their Vedas, once more began to praise their rites. 60,000 munis became disciples of the regenerate rishi Sarasvata for the sake of acquiring their Vedas from him. Owning obedience to that agreeable rishi, though a boy, the munis each brought a handful of grass and offered it to him for his seat. The mighty son of Rohini, and elder brother of Keshava, having given away wealth in that tirtha, then joyfully proceeded to another place where lived (in days of yore) an old lady without having passed through the ceremony of marriage." 52 Janamejaya said, "Why, O regenerate one, did that maiden betake herself to ascetic penances, in days of old? For what reason did she practise penances, and what was her vow? Unrivalled and fraught with mystery is the discourse that I have already heard from thee! Tell me (now) all the particulars in detail regarding how that maid engaged herself in penances." Vaishampayana said, "There was a rishi of abundant energy and great fame, named Kuni-Garga. That foremost of ascetics, having practised the austerest of penances, O king, created a fair-browed daughter by a fiat of his will. Beholding her, the celebrated ascetic Kuni-Garga became filled with joy. He abandoned his body, O king, and then went to heaven. That faultless and amiable and fair-browed maiden, meanwhile, of eyes like lotus petals continued to practise severe and very rigid penances. She worshipped the pitris and the gods with fasts. In the practice of such severe penances a long period elapsed. Though her sire had been for giving her away to a husband, she yet did not wish for marriage, for she did not see a husband that could be worthy of her. "Continuing to emaciate her body with austere penances, she devoted herself to the worship of the pitris and the gods in that solitary forest. Although engaged in such toil, O monarch, and although she emaciated herself by age and austerities, yet she regarded herself happy. At last when she (became very old so that she) could no longer move even a single step without being aided by somebody, she set her heart upon departing for the other world. "Beholding her about to cast off her body, Narada said unto her, 'O sinless one, thou hast no regions of blessedness to obtain in consequence of thy not having cleansed thyself by rite of marriage! O thou of great vows, we have heard this in heaven! Great hath been thy ascetic austerities, but thou hast no claim to regions of blessedness!' "Hearing these words of Narada, the old lady went to a concourse of Rishis and said, 'I shall give him half my penances who will accept my hand in marriage!' After she had said those words, Galava's son, a rishi, known by the name of Sringavat, accepted her hand, having proposed this compact to her, 'With this compact, O beautiful lady, I shall accept thy hand, that thou shalt live with me for only one night!' Having agreed to that compact, she gave him her hand. "Indeed, Galava's son, according to the ordinances laid down and having duly poured libations on the fire, accepted her hand and married her. On that night, she became a young lady of the fairest complexion, robed in celestial attire and decked in celestial ornaments and garlands and smeared with celestial unguents and perfumes. Beholding her blazing with beauty, Galava's son became very happy and passed one night in her company. "At morn she said unto him, 'The compact, O Brahmana, I had made with thee, hath been fulfilled, O foremost of ascetics! Blessed be thou, I shall now leave thee!' After obtaining his permission, she once more said, 'He that will, with rapt attention, pass one night in this tirtha after having gratified the denizens of heaven with oblations of water, shall obtain that merit which is his who observes the vow of brahmacarya for eight and fifty years!' Having said these words, that chaste lady departed for heaven. "The Rishi, her lord, became very cheerless, by dwelling upon the memory of her beauty. In consequence of the compact he had made, he accepted with difficulty half her penances. Casting off his body he soon followed her, moved by sorrow, O chief of Bharata's race, and forced to it by her beauty. "Even this is the glorious history of the old maid that I have told thee! Even this is the account of her brahmacarya and her auspicious departure for heaven. While there Baladeva heard of the slaughter of Shalya. Having made presents unto the Brahmanas there, he gave way to grief, O scorcher of his foes, for Shalya who had been slain by the Pandavas in battle. Then he of Madhu's race, having come out of the environs of Samantapanchaka, enquired of the Rishis about the results of the battle at Kurukshetra. Asked by that lion of Yadu's race about the results of the battle at Kurukshetra, those high-souled ones told him everything as it had happened." 53 "The Rishis said, 'O Rama, this Samantapanchaka is said to be the eternal northern altar of Brahman, the Lord of all creatures. There the denizens of heaven, those givers of great boons, performed in days of yore a great sacrifice. That foremost of royal sages, the high-souled Kuru, of great intelligence and immeasurable energy, had cultivated this field for many years. Hence it came to be Kurukshetra (the field of Kuru)!' "Rama said, 'For what reason did the high-souled Kuru cultivate this field? I desire to have this narrated by you, ye Rishis possessed of wealth of penances!' "The Rishis said, 'In days of yore, O Rama, Kuru was engaged in perseveringly tilling the soil of this field. Shakra, coming down from heaven, asked him the reason, saying, "Why O king, art thou employed (in this task) with such perseverance? What is thy purpose, O royal sage, for the accomplishment of which thou art tilling the soil?" Kuru thereupon replied, saying, "O thou of a hundred sacrifices, they that will die upon this plain shall proceed to regions of blessedness after being cleansed of their sins!" The lord Shakra, ridiculing this, went back to heaven. The royal sage Kuru, however, without being at all depressed, continued to till the soil. Shakra repeatedly came to him and repeatedly receiving the same reply went away ridiculing him. Kuru, however, did not, on that account, feel depressed. Seeing the king till the soil with unflagging perseverance, Shakra summoned the celestials and informed them of the monarch's occupation. Hearing Indra's words, the celestials said unto their chief of a 1,000 eyes, "Stop the royal sage, O Shakra by granting him a boon, if thou canst! If men, by only dying there were to come to heaven, without having performed sacrifices to us, our very existence will be endangered!" Thus exhorted, Shakra then came back to that royal sage and said, "Do not toil any more! Act according to my words! Those men that will die here, having abstained from food with all their senses awake, and those that will perish here in battle, shall, O king, come to heaven! They, O thou of great soul, shall enjoy the blessings of heaven, O monarch!" Thus addressed, king Kuru answered Shakra, saying, "So be it!" Taking Kuru's leave, the slayer of Vala, Shakra, then, with a joyful heart, quickly went back to heaven. Even thus, O foremost one of Yadu's race, that royal sage had, in days of yore, tilled this plain and Shakra had promised great merit unto those that would cast off their bodies here. Indeed, it was sanctioned by all the foremost ones, headed by Brahman, among the gods, and by the sacred Rishis, that on earth there should be no more sacred spot than this! Those men that perform austere penances here would all after casting off their bodies go to Brahman's abode. Those meritorious men, again, that would give away their wealth here would soon have their wealth doubled. They, again, that will, in expectation of good, reside constantly here, will never have to visit the region of Yama. Those kings that will perform great sacrifices here will reside as long in heaven as Earth herself will last. The chief of the celestials, Shakra, himself composed a verse here and sang it. Listen to it, O Baladeva! "The very dust of Kurukshetra, borne away by the wind, shall cleanse persons of wicked acts and bear them to heaven!" The foremost ones amongst the gods, as also those amongst the Brahmanas, and many foremost ones among the kings of the Earth such as Nriga and others, having performed costly sacrifices here, after abandoning their bodies, proceeded to heaven. The space between the Tarantuka and the Arantuka and the lakes of Rama and Shamachakra, is known as Kurukshetra. Samantapanchaka is called the northern (sacrificial) altar of Brahman, the Lord of all creatures. Auspicious and highly sacred and much regarded by the denizens of heaven is this spot that possesses all attributes. It is for this that Kshatriyas slain in battle here obtain sacred regions of eternal blessedness. Even this was said by Shakra himself about the high blessedness of Kurukshetra. All that Shakra said was again approved and sanctioned by Brahman, by Vishnu, and by Maheshvara.'" 54 Vaishampayana said, "Having visited Kurukshetra and given away wealth there, he of the Satwata race then proceeded, O Janamejaya, to a large and exceedingly beautiful hermitage. That hermitage was overgrown with Madhuka and mango trees, and abounded with Plakshas and Nyagrodhas. And it contained many Vilwas and many excellent jack and Arjuna trees. Beholding that goodly asylum with many marks of sacredness, Baladeva asked the Rishis as to whose it was. Those high-souled ones, O king, said unto Baladeva, 'Listen in detail, O Rama, as to whose asylum this was in days of yore! Here the god Vishnu in days of yore performed austere penances. Here he performed duly all the eternal sacrifices. Here a Brahmani maiden, leading from youth the vow of Brahmacharya, became crowned with ascetic success. Ultimately, in the possession of Yoga powers, that lady of ascetic penances proceeded to heaven. The high-souled Sandilya, O king, got a beautiful daughter who was chaste, wedded to severe vows, self-restrained, and observant of Brahmacharya. Having performed the severest of penances such as are incapable of being performed by women, the blessed lady at last went to heaven, worshipped by the gods and Brahmanas!' Having heard these words of the Rishis, Baladeva entered that asylum. Bidding farewell to the Rishis, Baladeva of unfading glory went through the performance of all the rites and ceremonies of the evening twilight on the side of Himavat and then began his ascent of the mountain. The mighty Balarama having the device of the palmyra on his banner had not proceeded far in his ascent when he beheld a sacred and goodly tirtha and wondered at the sight. Beholding the glory of the Sarasvati, as also the tirtha called Plakshaprasravana, Vala next reached another excellent and foremost of tirthas called Karavapana. The hero of the plough, of great strength, having made many presents there, bathed in the cool, clear, sacred, and sin-cleansing water (of that tirtha). Passing one night there with the ascetics and the Brahmanas, Rama then proceeded to the sacred asylum of the Mitra-Varunas. From Karavapana he proceeded to that spot on the Yamuna where in days of yore Indra and Agni and Aryaman had obtained great happiness. Bathing there, that bull of Yadu's race, of righteous soul, obtained great happiness. The hero then sat himself down with the Rishis and the Siddhas there for listening to their excellent talk. There where Rama sat in the midst of that conclave, the adorable Rishi Narada came (in course of his wandering). Covered with matted locks and attired in golden rays, he bore in his hands, O king, a staff made of gold and a waterpot made of the same precious metal. Accomplished in song and dance and adored by gods and Brahmanas, he had with him a beautiful Vina of melodious notes, made of the tortoise-shell. A provoker of quarrels and ever fond of quarrels, the celestial Rishi came to that spot where the handsome Rama was resting. Standing up and sufficiently honouring the celestial Rishi of regulated vows, Rama asked him about all that had happened to the Kurus. Conversant with every duty and usage, Narada then, O king, told him everything, as it had happened, about the awful extermination of the Kurus. The son of Rohini then, in sorrowful words, enquired of the Rishi, saying, 'What is the state of the field? How are those kings now that had assembled there? I have heard everything before, O thou that art possessed of the wealth of penances, but my curiosity is great for hearing it in detail!' "Narada said, 'Already Bhishma and Drona and the lord of the Sindhus have fallen! Vikartana's son Karna also hath fallen, with his sons, those great car-warriors! Bhurishrava too, O son of Rohini, and the valiant chief of the Madras have fallen! Those and many other mighty heroes that had assembled there, ready to lay down their lives for the victory of Duryodhana, those kings and princes unreturning from battle, have all fallen! Listen now to me, O Madhava, about those that are yet alive! In the army of Dhritarashtra's son, only three grinders of hosts are yet alive! They are Kripa and Kritavarma and the valiant son of Drona! These also, O Rama, have from fear fled away to the ten points of the compass! After Shalya's fall and the flight of Kripa and the others, Duryodhana, in great grief, had entered the depths of the Dvaipayana lake. While lying stretched for rest at the bottom of the lake after stupefying its waters, Duryodhana was approached by the Pandavas with Krishna and pierced by them with their cruel words. Pierced with wordy darts, O Rama, from every side, the mighty and heroic Duryodhana hath risen from the lake armed with his heavy mace. He hath come forward for fighting Bhima for the present. Their terrible encounter, O Rama, will take place today! If thou feelest any curiosity, then hasten, O Madhava, without tarrying here! Go, if thou wishest, and witness that terrible battle between thy two disciples!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Narada, Rama bade a respectful farewell to those foremost of Brahmanas and dismissed all those that had accompanied him (in his pilgrimage). Indeed, he ordered his attendants, saying, 'Return ye to Dwaraka!' He then descended from that prince of mountains and that fair hermitage called Plakshaprasravana. Having listened to the discourse of the sages about the great merits of tirthas, Rama of unfading glory sang this verse in the midst of the Brahmanas, 'Where else is such happiness as that in a residence by the Sarasvati? Where also such merits as those in a residence by the Sarasvati? Men have departed for heaven, having approached the Sarasvati! All should ever remember the Sarasvati! Sarasvati is the most sacred of rivers! Sarasvati always bestows the greatest happiness on men! Men, after approaching the Sarasvati, will not have to grieve for their sins either here or hereafter!' Repeatedly casting his eyes with joy on the Sarasvati, that scorcher of foes then ascended an excellent car unto which were yoked goodly steeds. Journeying then on that car of great fleetness, Baladeva, that bull of Yadu's race, desirous of beholding the approaching encounter of his two disciples arrived on the field." 55 Vaishampayana said, "Even thus, O Janamejaya, did that terrible battle take place. King Dhritarashtra, in great sorrow, said these words with reference to it: "Dhritarashtra said, 'Beholding Rama approach that spot when the mace-fight was about to happen, how, O Sanjaya, did my son fight Bhima?' "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding the presence of Rama, thy valiant son, Duryodhana of mighty arms, desirous of battle, became full of joy. Seeing the hero of the plough, king Yudhishthira, O Bharata, stood up and duly honoured him, feeling great joy the while. He gave him a seat and enquired about his welfare. Rama then answered Yudhishthira in these sweet and righteous words that were highly beneficial to heroes, "I have heard it said by the Rishis, O best of kings, that Kurukshetra is a highly sacred and sin-cleansing spot, equal to heaven itself, adored by gods and Rishis and high-souled Brahmanas! Those men that cast off their bodies while engaged in battle on this field, are sure to reside, O sire, in heaven with Shakra himself! I shall, for this, O king, speedily proceed to Samantapanchaka. In the world of gods that spot is known as the northern (sacrificial) altar of Brahman, the Lord of all creatures! He that dies in battle on that eternal and most sacred of spots in the three worlds, is sure to obtain heaven!" Saying, "So be it," O monarch, Kunti's brave son, the lord Yudhishthira, proceeded towards Samantapanchaka. King Duryodhana also, taking up his gigantic mace, wrathfully proceeded on foot with the Pandavas. While proceeding thus, armed with mace and clad in armour, the celestials in the welkin applauded him, saying, "Excellent, Excellent!" The Charanas fleet as air, seeing the Kuru king, became filled with delight. Surrounded by the Pandavas, thy son, the Kuru king, proceeded, assuming the tread of an infuriated elephant. All the points of the compass were filled with the blare of conchs and the loud peals of drums and the leonine roars of heroes. Proceeding with face westwards to the appointed spot, with thy son (in their midst), they scattered themselves on every side when they reached it. That was an excellent tirtha on the southern side of the Sarasvati. The ground there was not sandy and was, therefore, selected for the encounter. Clad in armour, and armed with his mace of gigantic thickness, Bhima, O monarch, assumed the form of the mighty Garuda. With head-gear fastened on his head, and wearing an armour made of gold, licking the corners of his mouth, O monarch, with eyes red in wrath, and breathing hard, thy son, on that field, O king, looked resplendent like the golden Sumeru. Taking up his mace, king Duryodhana of great energy, casting his glances on Bhimasena, challenged him to the encounter like an elephant challenging a rival elephant. Similarly, the valiant Bhima, taking up his adamantine mace, challenged the king like a lion challenging a lion. Duryodhana and Bhima, with uplifted maces, looked in that battle like two mountains with tall summits. Both of them were exceedingly angry; both were possessed of awful prowess; in encounters with the mace both were disciples of Rohini's intelligent son, both resembled each other in their feats and looked like Maya and Vasava. Both were endued with great strength, both resembled Varuna in achievements. Each resembling Vasudeva, or Rama, or Visravana's son (Ravana), they looked, O monarch, like Madhu and Kaitabha. Each like the other in feats, they looked like Sunda and Upasunda, or Rama and Ravana, or Vali and Sugriva. Those two scorchers of foes looked like Kala and Mrityu. They then ran towards each other like two infuriated elephants, swelling with pride and mad with passion in the season of autumn and longing for the companionship of a she-elephant in her time. Each seemed to vomit upon the other the poison of his wrath like two fiery snakes. Those two chastisers of foes cast the angriest of glances upon each other. Both were tigers of Bharata's race, and each was possessed of great prowess. In encounters with the mace, those two scorchers of foes were invincible like lions. Indeed, O bull of Bharata's race, inspired with desire of victory, they looked like two infuriated elephants. Those heroes were unbearable, like two tigers accoutred with teeth and claws. They were like two uncrossable oceans lashed into fury and bent upon the destruction of creatures, or like two angry Suns risen for consuming everything. Those two mighty car-warriors looked like an Eastern and a Western cloud agitated by the wind, roaring awfully and pouring torrents of rain in the rainy season. Those two high-souled and mighty heroes, both possessed of great splendour and effulgence, looked like two Suns risen at the hour of the universal dissolution. Looking like two enraged tigers or like two roaring masses of clouds, they became as glad as two maned lions. Like two angry elephants or two blazing fires, those two high-souled ones appeared like two mountains with tall summits. With lips swelling with rage and casting keen glances upon each other, those two high-souled and best of men, armed with maces, encountered each other. Both were filled with joy, and each regarded the other as a worthy opponent, and Vrikodara then resembled two goodly steeds neighing at each other, or two elephants trumpeting at each other. Those two foremost of men then looked resplendent like a couple of Daityas swelling with might. Then Duryodhana, O monarch, said these proud words unto Yudhishthira in the midst of his brothers and of the high-souled Krishna and Rama of immeasurable energy, 'Protected by the Kaikeyas and the Srinjayas and the high-souled Pancalas, behold ye with all those foremost of kings, seated together, this battle that is about to take place between me and Bhima!' Hearing these words of Duryodhana, they did as requested. Then that large concourse of kings sat down and was seen to look resplendent like a conclave of celestials in heaven. In the midst of that concourse the mighty-armed and handsome elder brother of Keshava, O monarch, as he sat down, was worshipped by all around him. In the midst of those kings, Valadeva clad in blue robes and possessed of a fair complexion, looked beautiful like the moon at full surrounded in the night by thousands of stars. Meanwhile those two heroes, O monarch, both armed with maces and both unbearable by foes, stood there, goading each other with fierce speeches. Having addressed each other in disagreeable and bitter words, those two foremost of heroes of Kuru's race stood, casting angry glances upon each other, like Shakra and Vritra in fight." 56 Vaishampayana said, "At the outset, O Janamejaya a fierce wordy encounter took place between the two heroes. With respect to that, king Dhritarashtra, filled with grief, said this, 'Oh, fie on man, who hath such an end! My son, O sinless one, had been the lord of eleven chamus of troops. He had all the kings under his command and had enjoyed the sovereignty of the whole earth! Alas, he that had been so, now a warrior proceeding to battle, on foot, shouldering his mace! My poor son, who had before been the protector of the universe, was now himself without protection! Alas, he had, on that occasion, to proceed on foot, shouldering his mace! What can it be but Destiny? Alas, O Sanjaya, great was the grief that was felt by my son now!' Having uttered these words, that ruler of men, afflicted with great woe, became silent. "Sanjaya said, 'Deep-voiced like a cloud, Duryodhana then roared from joy like a bull. Possessed of great energy, he challenged the son of Pritha to battle. When the high-souled king of the Kurus thus summoned Bhima to the encounter, diverse portents of an awful kind became noticeable. Fierce winds began to blow with loud noises at intervals, and a shower of dust fell. All the points of the compass became enveloped in a thick gloom. Thunderbolts of loud peal fell on all sides, causing a great confusion and making the very hair to stand on end. Hundreds of meteors fell, bursting with a loud noise from the welkin. Rahu swallowed the Sun most untimely, O monarch! The Earth with her forests and trees shook greatly. Hot winds blew, bearing showers of hard pebbles along the ground. The summits of mountains fell down on the earth's surface. Animals of diverse forms were seen to run in all directions. Terrible and fierce jackals, with blazing mouths, howled everywhere. Loud and terrific reports were heard on every side, making the hair stand on end. The four quarters seemed to be ablaze and many were the animals of ill omen that became visible. The water in the wells on every side swelled up of their own accord. Loud sounds came from every side, without, O king, visible creatures to utter them. Beholding these and other portents, Vrikodara said unto his eldest brother, king Yudhishthira the just, "This Suyodhana of wicked soul is not competent to vanquish me in battle! I shall today vomit that wrath which I have been cherishing for a long while in the secret recesses of my heart, upon this ruler of the Kurus like Arjuna throwing fire upon the forest of Khandava! Today, O son of Pandu, I shall extract the dart that lies sticking to thy heart! Slaying with my mace this sinful wretch of Kuru's race, I shall today place around thy neck the garland of Fame! Slaying this wight of sinful deeds with my mace on the field of battle, I shall today, with this very mace of mine, break his body into a hundred fragments! He shall not have again to enter the city called after the elephant. The setting of snakes at us while we were asleep, the giving of poison to us while we ate, the casting of our body into the water at Pramanakoti, the attempt to burn us at the house of lac, the insult offered us at the assembly, the robbing us of all our possessions, the whole year of our living in concealment, our exile into the woods, O sinless one, of all these woes, O best of Bharata's race, I shall today reach the end, O bull of Bharata's line! Slaying this wretch, I shall, in one single day, pay off all the debts I owe him! Today, the period of life of this wicked son of Dhritarashtra, of uncleansed soul, hath reached its close, O chief of the Bharatas! After this day he shall not again look at his father and mother! Today, O monarch, the happiness of this wicked king of the Kurus hath come to an end! After this day, O monarch, he shall not again cast his eyes on female beauty! Today this disgrace of Santanu's line shall sleep on the bare Earth, abandoning his life-breath, his prosperity, and his kingdom! Today king Dhritarashtra also, hearing of the fall of his son, shall recollect all those evil acts that were born of Shakuni's brain!" With these words, O tiger among kings, Vrikodara of great energy, armed with mace, stood for fight, like Shakra challenging the asura Vritra. Beholding Duryodhana also standing with uplifted mace like mount Kailasa graced with its summit, Bhimasena, filled with wrath, once more addressed him, saying, "Recall to thy mind that evil act of thyself and king Dhritarashtra that occurred at Varanavata! Remember Draupadi who was ill-treated, while in her season, in the midst of the assembly! Remember the deprivation of the king through dice by thyself and Subala's son! Remember that great woe suffered by us, in consequence of thee, in the forest, as also in Virata's city as if we had once more entered the womb! I shall avenge myself of them all today! By good luck, O thou of wicked soul, I see thee today! It is for thy sake that that foremost of car-warriors, the son of Ganga, of great prowess, struck down by Yajnasena's son, sleepeth on a bed of arrows! Drona also hath been slain, and Karna, and Shalya of great prowess! Subala's son Shakuni, too, that root of these hostilities, hath been slain! The wretched Pratikamin, who had seized Draupadi's tresses, hath been slain! All thy brave brothers also, who fought with great valour, have been slain! These and many other kings have been slain through thy fault! Thee too I shall slay today with my mace! There is not the slightest doubt in this." While Vrikodara, O monarch, was uttering these words in a loud voice, thy fearless son of true prowess answered him, saying, "What use of such elaborate bragging? Fight me, O Vrikodara! O wretch of thy race, today I shall destroy thy desire of battle! Mean vermin as thou art, know that Duryodhana is not capable, like an ordinary person, of being terrified by a person like thee! For a long time have I cherished this desire! For a long time hath this wish been in my heart! By good luck the gods have at last brought it about, a mace encounter with thee! What use of long speeches and empty bragging, O wicked-souled one! Accomplish these words of thine in acts. Do not tarry at all!" Hearing these words of his, the Somakas and the other kings that were present there all applauded them highly. Applauded by all, Duryodhana's hair stood erect with joy and he firmly set his heart on battle. The kings present once again cheered thy wrathful son with clapping, like persons exciting an infuriated elephant to an encounter. The high-souled Vrikodara, the son of Pandu, then, uplifting his mace, rushed furiously at thy high-souled son. The elephants present there trumpeted aloud and the steeds neighed repeatedly. The weapons of the Pandavas who longed for victory blazed forth of their own accord.'" 57 "Sanjaya said, 'Duryodhana, with heart undepressed, beholding Bhimasena in that state, rushed furiously against him, uttering a loud roar. They encountered each other like two bulls encountering each other with their horns. The strokes of their maces produced loud sounds like those of thunderbolts. Each longing for victory, the battle that took place between them was terrible, making the very hair stand on end, like that between Indra and Prahlada. All their limbs bathed in blood, the two high-souled warriors of great energy, both armed with maces, looked like two Kinsukas decked with flowers. During the progress of that great and awful encounter, the welkin looked beautiful as if it swarmed with fire-flies. After that fierce and terrible battle had lasted for some time, both those chastisers of foes became fatigued. Having rested for a little while, those two scorchers of foes, taking up their handsome maces, once again began to ward off each others' attacks. Indeed, when those two warriors of great energy, those two foremost of men, both possessed of great might, encountered each other after having taken a little rest, they looked like two elephants infuriated with passion and attacking each other for obtaining the companionship of a cow elephant in season. Beholding those two heroes, both armed with maces and each equal to the other in energy, the gods and Gandharvas and men became filled with wonder. Beholding Duryodhana and Vrikodara both armed with maces, all creatures became doubtful as to who amongst them would be victorious. Those two cousins, those two foremost of mighty men, once again rushing at each other and desiring to take advantage of each other's lapses, waited each watching the other. The spectators, O king, beheld each armed with his uplifted mace, that was heavy, fierce, and murderous, and that resembled the bludgeon of Yama or the thunder-bolt of Indra. While Bhimasena whirled his weapon, loud and awful was the sound that it produced. Beholding his foe, the son of Pandu, thus whirling his mace endued with unrivalled impetuosity, Duryodhana became filled with amazement. Indeed, the heroic Vrikodara, O Bharata, as he careered in diverse courses, presented a highly beautiful spectacle. Both bent upon carefully protecting themselves, as they approached, they repeatedly mangled each other like two cats fighting for a piece of meat. Bhimasena performed diverse kinds of evolutions. He coursed in beautiful circles, advanced, and receded. He dealt blows and warded off those of his adversary, with wonderful activity. He took up various kinds of position (for attack and defence). He delivered attacks and avoided those of his antagonist. He ran at his foe, now turning to the right and now to the left. He advanced straight against the enemy. He made ruses for drawing his foe. He stood immovable, prepared for attacking his foe as soon as the latter would expose himself to attack. He circumambulated his foe, and prevented his foe from circumambulating him. He avoided the blows of his foe by moving away in bent postures or jumping aloft. He struck, coming up to his foe face to face, or dealt back-thrusts while moving away from him. Both accomplished in encounters with the mace, Bhima and Duryodhana thus careered and fought, and struck each other. Those two foremost ones of Kuru's race careered thus, each avoiding the other's blows. Indeed, those two mighty warriors thus coursed in circles and seemed to sport with each other. Displaying in that encounter their skill in battle, those two chastisers of foes sometimes suddenly attacked each other with their weapons, like two elephants approaching and attacking each other with their tusks. Covered with blood, they looked very beautiful, O monarch, on the field. Even thus occurred that battle, awfully and before the gaze of a large multitude, towards the close of the day, like the battle between Vritra and Vasava. Armed with maces, both began to career in circles. Duryodhana, O monarch, adopted the right mandala, while Bhimasena adopted the left mandala. While Bhima was thus careering in circles on the field of battle, Duryodhana, O monarch, suddenly struck him a fierce blow on one of his flanks. Struck by thy son, O sire, Bhima began to whirl his heavy mace for returning that blow. The spectators, O monarch, beheld that mace of Bhimasena look as terrible as Indra's thunder-bolt or Yama's uplifted bludgeon. Seeing Bhima whirl his mace, thy son, uplifting his own terrible weapon, struck him again. Loud was the sound, O Bharata, produced by the descent of thy son's mace. So quick was that descent that it generated a flame of fire in the welkin. Coursing in diverse kinds of circles, adopting each motion at the proper time, Suyodhana, possessed of great energy, once more seemed to prevail over Bhima. The massive mace of Bhimasena meanwhile, whirled with his whole force, produced a loud sound as also smoke and sparks and flames of fire. Beholding Bhimasena whirling his mace, Suyodhana also whirled his heavy and adamantine weapon and presented a highly beautiful aspect. Marking the violence of the wind produced by the whirl of Duryodhana's mace, a great fear entered the hearts of all the Pandus and the Somakas. Meanwhile those two chastisers of foes, displaying on every side their skill in battle, continued to strike each other with their maces, like two elephants approaching and striking each other with their tusks. Both of them, O monarch, covered with blood, looked highly beautiful. Even thus progressed that awful combat before the gaze of thousands of spectators at the close of day, like the fierce battle that took place between Vritra and Vasava. Beholding Bhima firmly stationed on the field, thy mighty son, careering in more beautiful motions, rushed towards that son of Kunti. Filled with wrath, Bhima struck the mace, endued with great impetuosity and adorned with gold, of the angry Duryodhana. A loud sound with sparks of fire was produced by that clash of the two maces which resembled the clash of two thunder-bolts from opposite directions. Hurled by Bhimasena, his impetuous mace, as it fell down, caused the very earth to tremble. The Kuru prince could not brook to see his own mace thus baffled in that attack. Indeed, he became filled with rage like an infuriated elephant at the sight of a rival elephant. Adopting the left mandala, O monarch, and whirling his mace, Suyodhana then, firmly resolved, struck the son of Kunti on the head with his weapon of terrible force. Thus struck by thy son, Bhima, the son of Pandu, trembled not, O monarch, at which all the spectators wondered exceedingly. That amazing patience, O king, of Bhimasena, who stirred not an inch though struck so violently, was applauded by all the warriors present there. Then Bhima of terrible prowess hurled at Duryodhana his own heavy and blazing mace adorned with gold. That blow the mighty and fearless Duryodhana warded off by his agility. Beholding this, great was the wonder that the spectators felt. That mace, hurled by Bhima, O king, as it fell baffled of effect, produced a loud sound like that of the thunderbolt and caused the very earth to tremble. Adopting the manoeuvre called Kausika, and repeatedly jumping up, Duryodhana, properly marking the descent of Bhima's mace, baffled the latter. Baffling Bhimasena thus, the Kuru king, endued with great strength, at last in rage struck the former on the chest. Struck very forcibly by thy son in that dreadful battle, Bhimasena became stupefied and for a time knew not what to do. At that time, O king, the Somakas and the Pandavas became greatly disappointed and very cheerless. Filled with rage at that blow, Bhima then rushed at thy son like an elephant rushing against an elephant. Indeed, with uplifted mace, Bhima rushed furiously at Duryodhana like a lion rushing against a wild elephant. Approaching the Kuru king, the son of Pandu, O monarch, accomplished in the use of the mace, began to whirl his weapon, taking aim at thy son. Bhimasena then struck Duryodhana on one of his flanks. Stupefied at that blow, the latter fell down on the earth, supporting himself on his knees. When that foremost one of Kuru's race fell upon his knees, a loud cry arose from among the Srinjayas, O ruler of the world! Hearing that loud uproar of the Srinjayas, O bull among men, thy son became filled with rage. The mighty-armed hero, rising up, began to breathe like a mighty snake, and seemed to burn Bhimasena by casting his glances upon him. That foremost one of Bharata's race then rushed at Bhimasena, as if he would that time crush the head of his antagonist in that battle. The high-souled Duryodhana of terrible prowess then struck the high-souled Bhimasena on the forehead. The latter, however, moved not an inch but stood immovable like a mountain. Thus struck in that battle, the son of Pritha, O monarch, looked beautiful, as he bled profusely, like an elephant of rent temples with juicy secretions trickling down. The elder brother of Dhananjaya, then, that crusher of foes, taking up his hero-slaying mace made of iron and producing a sound loud as that of the thunder-bolt, struck his adversary with great force. Struck by Bhimasena, thy son fell down, his frame trembling all over, like a gigantic Sala in the forest, decked with flowers, uprooted by the violence of the tempest. Beholding thy son prostrated on the earth, the Pandavas became exceedingly glad and uttered loud cries. Recovering his consciousness, thy son then rose, like an elephant from a lake. That ever wrathful monarch and great car-warrior then careering with great skill, struck Bhimasena who was standing before him. At this, the son of Pandu, with weakened limbs, fell down on the earth. "'Having by his energy prostrated Bhimasena on the ground, the Kuru prince uttered a leonine roar. By the descent of his mace, whose violence resembled that of the thunder, he had fractured Bhima's coat of mail. A loud uproar was then heard in the welkin, made by the denizens of heaven and the Apsaras. A floral shower, emitting great fragrance, fell, rained by the celestials. Beholding Bhima prostrated on the earth and weakened in strength, and seeing his coat of mail laid open, a great fear entered the hearts of our foes. Recovering his senses in a moment, and wiping his face which had been dyed with blood, and mustering great patience, Vrikodara stood up, with rolling eyes steadying himself with great effort.'" 58 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding that fight thus raging between those two foremost heroes of Kuru's race, Arjuna said unto Vasudeva, "Between these two, who, in thy opinion, is superior? Who amongst them hath what merit? Tell me this, O Janardana." "'Vasudeva said, "The instruction received by them hath been equal. Bhima, however, is possessed of greater might, while the son of Dhritarashtra is possessed of greater skill and hath laboured more. If he were to fight fairly, Bhimasena will never succeed in winning the victory. If, however, he fights unfairly he will be surely able to slay Duryodhana. The Asuras were vanquished by the gods with the aid of deception. We have heard this. Virochana was vanquished by Shakra with the aid of deception. The slayer of Vala deprived Vritra of his energy by an act of deception. Therefore, let Bhimasena put forth his prowess, aided by deception! At the time of the gambling, O Dhananjaya, Bhima vowed to break the thighs of Suyodhana with his mace in battle. Let this crusher of foes, therefore, accomplish that vow of his. Let him with deception, slay the Kuru king who is full of deception. If Bhima, depending upon his might alone, were to fight fairly, king Yudhishthira will have to incur great danger. I tell thee again, O son of Pandu, listen to me. It is through the fault of king Yudhishthira alone that danger hath once more overtaken us! Having achieved great feats by the slaughter of Bhishma and the other Kurus, the king had won victory and fame and had almost attained the end of the hostilities. Having thus obtained the victory, he placed himself once more in a situation of doubt and peril. This has been an act of great folly on the part of Yudhishthira, O Pandava, since he hath made the result of the battle depend upon the victory or the defeat of only one warrior! Suyodhana is accomplished, he is a hero; he is again firmly resolved. This old verse uttered by Usanas hath been heard by us. Listen to me as I recite it to thee with its true sense and meaning! 'Those amongst the remnant of a hostile force broken flying away for life, that rally and come back to the fight, should always be feared, for they are firmly resolved and have but one purpose!' Shakra himself, O Dhananjaya, cannot stand before them that rush in fury, having abandoned all hope of life. This Suyodhana had broken and fled. All his troops had been killed. He had entered the depths of a lake. He had been defeated and, therefore, he had desired to retire into the woods, having become hopeless of retaining his kingdom. What man is there, possessed of any wisdom, that would challenge such a person to a single combat? I do not know whether Duryodhana may not succeed in snatching the kingdom that had already become ours! For full thirteen years he practised with the mace with great resolution. Even now, for slaying Bhimasena, he jumpeth up and leapeth transversely! If the mighty-armed Bhima does not slay him unfairly, the son of Dhritarashtra will surely remain king!" Having heard those words of the high-souled Keshava, Dhananjaya struck his own left thigh before the eyes of Bhimasena. Understanding that sign, Bhima began to career with his uplifted mace, making many a beautiful circle and many a Yomaka and other kinds of manoeuvres. Sometimes adopting the right mandala, sometimes the left mandala, and sometimes the motion called Gomutraka, the son of Pandu began to career, O king, stupefying his foe. Similarly, thy son, O monarch, who was well conversant with encounters with the mace, careered beautifully and with great activity, for slaying Bhimasena. Whirling their terrible maces which were smeared with sandal paste and other perfumed unguents, the two heroes, desirous of reaching the end of their hostilities, careered in that battle like two angry Yamas. Desirous of slaying each other, those two foremost of men, possessed of great heroism, fought like two Garudas desirous of catching the same snake. While the king and Bhima careered in beautiful circles, their maces clashed, and sparks of fire were generated by those repeated clashes. Those two heroic and mighty warriors struck each other equally in that battle. They then resembled, O monarch, two oceans agitated by the tempest. Striking each other equally like two infuriated elephants, their clashing maces produced peals of thunder. During the progress of that dreadful and fierce battle at close quarters, both those chastisers of foes, while battling, became fatigued. Having rested for a while, those two scorchers of foes, filled with rage and uplifting their maces, once more began to battle with each other. When by the repeated descents of their maces, O monarch, they mangled each other, the battle they fought became exceedingly dreadful and perfectly unrestrained. Rushing at each other in that encounter, those two heroes, possessed of eyes like those of bulls and endued with great activity, struck each other fiercely like two buffaloes in the mire. All their limbs mangled and bruised, and covered with blood from head to foot, they looked like a couple of Kinsukas on the breast of Himavat. During the progress of the encounter, when Vrikodara (as a ruse) seemed to give Duryodhana an opportunity, the latter, smiling a little, advanced forward. Well-skilled in battle, the mighty Vrikodara, beholding his adversary come up, suddenly hurled his mace at him. Seeing the mace hurled at him, thy son, O monarch, moved away from that spot at which the weapon fell down baffled on the earth. Having warded off that blow, thy son, that foremost one of Kuru's race, quickly struck Bhimasena with his weapon. In consequence of the large quantity of blood drawn by that blow, as also owing to the violence itself of the blow, Bhimasena of immeasurable energy seemed to be stupefied. Duryodhana, however, knew not that the son of Pandu was so afflicted at that moment. Though deeply afflicted, Bhima sustained himself, summoning all his patience. Duryodhana, therefore, regarded him to be unmoved and ready to return the blow. It was for this that thy son did not then strike him again. Having rested for a little while, the valiant Bhimasena rushed furiously, O king, at Duryodhana who was standing near. Beholding Bhimasena of immeasurable energy filled with rage and rushing towards him, thy high-souled son, O bull of Bharata's race, desiring to baffle his blow, set his heart on the manoeuvre called Avasthana. He, therefore, desired to jump upwards, O monarch, for beguiling Vrikodara. Bhimasena fully understood the intentions of his adversary. Rushing, therefore, at him, with a loud leonine roar, he fiercely hurled his mace at the thighs of the Kuru king as the latter had jumped up for baffling the first aim. That mace, endued with the force of the thunder and hurled by Bhima of terrible feats, fractured the two handsome thighs of Duryodhana. That tiger among men, thy son, after his thighs had been broken by Bhimasena, fell down, causing the earth to echo with his fall. Fierce winds began to blow, with loud sounds at repeated intervals. Showers of dust fell. The earth, with her trees and plants and mountains, began to tremble. Upon the fall of that hero who was the head of all monarchs on earth, fierce and fiery winds blew with a loud noise and with thunder falling frequently. Indeed, when that lord of earth fell, large meteors were seen to flash down from the sky. Bloody showers, as also showers of dust, fell, O Bharata! These were poured by Maghavat, upon the fall of thy son! A loud noise was heard, O bull of Bharata's race, in the welkin, made by the Yakshas, and the Rakshasas and the Pisachas. At that terrible sound, animals and birds, numbering in thousands, began to utter more frightful noise on every side. Those steeds and elephants and human beings that formed the (unslain) remnant of the (Pandava) host uttered loud cries when thy son fell. Loud also became the blare of conchs and the peal of drums and cymbals. A terrific noise seemed to come from within the bowels of the earth. Upon the fall of thy son, O monarch, headless beings of frightful forms, possessed of many legs and many arms, and inspiring all creatures with dread, began to dance and cover the earth on all sides. Warriors, O king, that stood with standards or weapons in their arms, began to tremble, O king, when thy son fell. Lakes and wells, O best of kings, vomited forth blood. Rivers of rapid currents flowed in opposite directions. Women seemed to look like men, and men to look like women at that hour, O king, when thy son Duryodhana fell! Beholding those wonderful portents, the Pancalas and the Pandavas, O bull of Bharata's race, became filled with anxiety. The gods and the Gandharvas went away to the regions they desired, talking, as they proceeded, of that wonderful battle between thy sons. Similarly the Siddhas, and the Charanas of the fleetest course, went to those places from which they had come, applauding those two lions among men." 59 "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding Duryodhana felled upon the earth like a gigantic Sala uprooted (by the tempest) the Pandavas became filled with joy. The Somakas also beheld, with hair standing on end, the Kuru king felled upon the earth like an infuriated elephant felled by a lion. Having struck Duryodhana down, the valiant Bhimasena, approaching the Kuru chief, addressed him, saying, "O wretch, formerly laughing at the disrobed Draupadi in the midst of the assembly, thou hadst, O fool, addressed us as 'Cow, Cow!' Bear now the fruit of that insult!" Having said these words, he touched the head of his fallen foe with his left foot. Indeed, he struck the head of that lion among kings with his foot. With eyes red in wrath, Bhimasena, that grinder of hostile armies, once more said these words. Listen to them, O monarch! "They that danced at us insultingly, saying, 'Cow, Cow!' we shall now dance at them, uttering the same words, 'Cow, Cow!' We have no guile, no fire, no match, at dice, no deception! Depending upon the might of our own arms we resist and check our foes!" Having attained to the other shores of those fierce hostilities, Vrikodara once more laughingly said these words slowly unto Yudhishthira and Keshava and Srinjaya and Dhananjaya and the two sons of Madri, "They that had dragged Draupadi, while ill, into the assembly and had disrobed her there, behold those Dhartarashtras slain in battle by the Pandavas through the ascetic penances of Yajnasena's daughter! Those wicked-hearted sons of king Dhritarashtra who had called us 'Sesame seeds without kernel,' have all been slain by us with their relatives and followers! It matters little whether (as a consequence of those deeds) we go to heaven or fall into hell!" Once more, uplifting the mace that lay on his shoulders, he struck with his left foot the head of the monarch who was prostrate on the earth, and addressing the deceitful Duryodhana, said these words. Many of the foremost warriors among the Somakas, who were all of righteous souls, beholding the foot of the rejoicing Bhimasena of narrow heart placed upon the head of that foremost one of Kuru's race, did not at all approve of it. While Vrikodara, after having struck down thy son, was thus bragging and dancing madly, king Yudhishthira addressed him, saying, "Thou hast paid off thy hostility (towards Duryodhana) and accomplished thy vow by a fair or an unfair act! Cease now, O Bhima! Do not crush his head with thy foot! Do not act sinfully! Duryodhana is a king! He is, again, thy kinsman! He is fallen! This conduct of thine, O sinless one, is not proper. Duryodhana was the lord of eleven Akshauhinis of troops. He was the king of the Kurus. Do not, O Bhima, touch a king and a kinsman with thy foot. His kinsmen are slain. His friends and counsellors are gone. His troops have been exterminated. He has been struck down in battle. He is to be pitied in every respect. He deserves not to be insulted, for remember that he is a king. He is ruined. His friends and kinsmen have been slain. His brothers have been killed. His sons too have been slain. His funeral cake hath been taken away. He is our brother. This that thou doest unto him is not proper. 'Bhimasena is a man of righteous behaviour': people used to say this before of thee! Why then, O Bhimasena, dost thou insult the king in this way?" Having said these words unto Bhimasena, Yudhishthira, with voice choked in tears, and afflicted with grief, approached Duryodhana, that chastiser of foes, and said unto him, "O sire, thou shouldst not give way to anger nor grieve for thyself. Without doubt thou bearest the dreadful consequences of thy own former acts. Without doubt this sad and woeful result had been ordained by the Creator himself, that we should injure thee and thou shouldst injure us, O foremost one of Kuru's race! Through thy own fault this great calamity has come upon thee, due to avarice and pride and folly, O Bharata! Having caused thy companions and brothers and sires and sons and grandsons and others to be all slain, thou comest now by thy own death. In consequence of thy fault, thy brothers, mighty car-warriors all, and thy kinsmen have been slain by us. I think all this to be the work of irresistible Destiny. Thou art not to be pitied. On the other hand, thy death, O sinless one, is enviable. It is we that deserve to be pitied in every respect, O Kaurava! We shall have to drag on a miserable existence, reft of all our dear friends and kinsmen. Alas, how shall I behold the widows, overwhelmed with grief and deprived of their senses by sorrow, of my brothers and sons and grandsons! Thou, O king, departest from this world! Thou art sure to have thy residence in heaven! We, on the other hand, shall be reckoned as creatures of hell, and shall continue to suffer the most poignant grief! The grief-afflicted wives of Dhritarashtra's sons and grandsons, those widows crushed with sorrow, will without doubt, curse us all!" Having said these words, Dharma's royal son, Yudhishthira, deeply afflicted with grief, began to breathe hard and indulge in lamentations.'" 60 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Beholding the (Kuru) king struck down unfairly, what O Suta, did the mighty Baladeva, that foremost one of Yadu's race, say? Tell me, O Sanjaya, what Rohini's son, well-skilled in encounters with the mace and well acquainted with all its rules, did on that occasion!' "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding thy son struck at the thighs, the mighty Rama, that foremost of smiters, became exceedingly angry. Raising his arms aloft the hero having the plough for his weapon, in a voice of deep sorrow, said in the midst of those kings, "Oh, fie on Bhima, fie on Bhima! Oh, fie, that in such a fair fight a blow hath been struck below the navel! Never before hath such an act as Vrikodara hath done been witnessed in an encounter with the mace! No limb below the navel should be struck. This is the precept laid down in treatises! This Bhima, however, is an ignorant wretch, unacquainted with the truths of treatises! He, therefore, acteth as he likes!" While uttering these words, Rama gave way to great wrath. The mighty Baladeva then, uplifting his plough, rushed towards Bhimasena! The form of that high-souled warrior of uplifted arms then became like that of the gigantic mountains of Kailasa variegated with diverse kinds of metals. The mighty Keshava, however, ever bending with humanity, seized the rushing Rama encircling him with his massive and well-rounded arms. Those two foremost heroes of Yadu's race, the one dark in complexion and the other fair, looked exceedingly beautiful at that moment, like the Sun and the Moon, O king, on the evening sky! For pacifying the angry Rama, Keshava addressed him, saying, "There are six kinds of advancement that a person may have: one's own advancement, the advancement of one's friends, the advancement of one's friends, the decay of one's enemy, the decay of one's enemy's friends, and the decay of one's enemy's friends' friends. When reverses happen to one's own self or to one's friends, one should then understand that one's fall is at hand and, therefore, one should at such times look for the means of applying a remedy. The Pandavas of unsullied prowess are our natural friends. They are the children of our own sire's sister! They had been greatly afflicted by their foes! The accomplishment of one's vow is one's duty. Formerly Bhima had vowed in the midst of the assembly that he would in great battle break with his mace the thighs of Duryodhana. The great Rishi Maitreya also, O scorcher of foes, had formerly cursed Duryodhana, saying, 'Bhima will, with his mace, break thy thighs!' In consequence of all this, I do not see any fault in Bhima! Do not give way to wrath, O slayer of Pralamva! Our relationship with the Pandavas is founded upon birth and blood, as also upon an attraction of hearts. In their growth is our growth. Do not, therefore, give way to wrath, O bull among men!" Hearing these words of Vasudeva the wielder of the plough, who was conversant with rules of morality, said, "Morality is well practised by the good. Morality, however, is always afflicted by two things, the desire of Profit entertained by those that covet it, and the desire for Pleasure cherished by those that are wedded to it. Whoever without afflicting Morality and Profit, or Morality and Pleasure, or Pleasure and Profit, followeth all three--Morality, Profit and Pleasure--always succeeds in obtaining great happiness. In consequence, however, of morality being afflicted by Bhimasena, this harmony of which I have spoken hath been disturbed, whatever, O Govinda, thou mayst tell me!" Krishna replied, saying, "Thou art always described as bereft of wrath, and righteous-souled and devoted to righteousness! Calm thyself, therefore, and do not give way to wrath! Know that the Kali age is at hand. Remember also the vow made by the son of Pandu! Let, therefore, the son of Pandu be regarded to have paid off the debt he owed to his hostility and to have fulfilled his vow!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Hearing this fallacious discourse from Keshava, O king, Rama failed to dispel his wrath and become cheerful. He then said in that assembly, "Having unfairly slain king Suyodhana of righteous soul, the son of Pandu shall be reputed in the world as a crooked warrior! The righteous-souled Duryodhana, on the other hand, shall obtain eternal blessedness! Dhritarashtra's royal son, that ruler of men, who hath been struck down, is a fair warrior. Having made every arrangement for the Sacrifice of battle and having undergone the initiatory ceremonies on the field, and, lastly, having poured his life as a libation upon the fire represented by his foes, Duryodhana has fairly completed his sacrifice by the final ablutions represented by the attainment of glory!" Having said these words, the valiant son of Rohini, looking like the crest of a white cloud, ascended his car and proceeded towards Dwaraka. The Pancalas with the Vrishnis, as also the Pandavas, O monarch, became rather cheerless after Rama had set out for Dwaravati. Then Vasudeva, approaching Yudhishthira who was exceedingly melancholy and filled with anxiety, and who hung down his head and knew not what to do in consequence of his deep affliction, said unto him these words: "'Vasudeva said, "O Yudhishthira the just, why dost thou sanction this unrighteous act, since thou permittest the head of the insensible and fallen Duryodhana whose kinsmen and friends have all been slain to be thus struck by Bhima with his foot. Conversant with the ways of morality, why dost thou, O king, witness this act with indifference?" "'Yudhishthira answered, "This act, O Krishna, done from wrath, of Vrikodara's touching the head of the king with his foot, is not agreeable to me, nor am I glad at this extermination of my race! By guile were we always deceived by the sons of Dhritarashtra! Many were the cruel words they spoke to us. We were again exiled into the woods by them. Great is the grief on account of all those acts that is in Bhimasena's heart! Reflecting on all this, O thou of Vrishni's race, I looked on with indifference! Having slain the covetous Duryodhana bereft of wisdom and enslaved by his passions, let the son of Pandu gratify his desire, be it righteousness or unrighteousness!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'After Yudhishthira had said this, Vasudeva, that perpetuator of Yadu's race, said with difficulty, "Let it be so!" Indeed, after Vasudeva had been addressed in those words by Yudhishthira, the former, who always wished what was agreeable to and beneficial for Bhima, approved all those acts that Bhima had done in battle. Having struck down thy son in battle, the wrathful Bhimasena, his heart filled with joy, stood with joined hands before Yudhishthira and saluted him in proper form. With eyes expanded in delight and proud of the victory he had won, Vrikodara of great energy, O king, addressed his eldest brother, saying, "The Earth is today thine, O king, without brawls to disturb her and with all her thorns removed! Rule over her, O monarch, and observe the duties of thy order! He who was the cause of these hostilities and who fomented them by means of his guile, that wretched wight fond of deception, lieth, struck down, on the bare ground, O lord of earth! All these wretches headed by Duhshasana, who used to utter cruel words, as also those other foes of thine, the son of Radha, and Shakuni, have been slain! Teeming with all kinds of gems, the Earth, with her forests and mountains, O monarch, once more cometh to thee that hast no foes alive!" "'Yudhishthira said, "Hostilities have come to an end! King Suyodhana hath been struck down! The earth hath been conquered (by us), ourselves having acted according to the counsels of Krishna! By good luck, thou hast paid off thy debt to thy mother and to thy wrath! By good luck, thou hast been victorious, O invincible hero, and by good luck, thy foe hath been slain!"'" 61 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Beholding Duryodhana struck down in battle by Bhimasena, what, O Sanjaya, did the Pandavas and the Srinjayas do?' "Sanjaya said, 'Beholding Duryodhana slain by Bhimasena in battle, O king, like a wild elephant slain by a lion, the Pandavas with Krishna became filled with delight. The Pancalas and the Srinjayas also, upon the fall of the Kuru king, waved their upper garments (in the air) and uttered leonine roars. The very Earth seemed to be unable to bear those rejoicing warriors. Some stretched their bows; others drew their bowstrings. Some blew their huge conchs; others beat their drums. Some sported and jumped about, while some amongst thy foes laughed aloud. Many heroes repeatedly said these words unto Bhimasena, "Exceedingly difficult and great hath been the feats that thou hast achieved today in battle, by having struck down the Kuru king, himself a great warrior, with thy mace! All these men regard this slaughter of the foe by thee to be like that of Vritra by Indra himself! Who else, save thyself, O Vrikodara, could slay the heroic Duryodhana while careering in diverse kinds of motion and performing all the wheeling manoeuvres (characteristic of such encounters)? Thou hast now reached the other shore of these hostilities, that other shore which none else could reach. This feat that thou hast achieved is incapable of being achieved by any other warriors. By good luck, thou hast, O hero, like an infuriated elephant, crushed with thy foot the head of Duryodhana on the field of battle! Having fought a wonderful battle, by good luck, O sinless one, thou hast quaffed the blood of Duhshasana, like a lion quaffing the blood of a buffalo! By good luck, thou hast, by thy own energy, placed thy foot on the head of all those that had injured the righteous-souled king Yudhishthira! In consequence of having vanquished thy foes and of thy having slain Duryodhana, by good luck, O Bhima, thy fame hath spread over the whole world! Bards and eulogists applauded Shakra after the fall of Vritra, even as we are now applauding thee, O Bharata, after the fall of thy foes! Know, O Bharata, that the joy we felt upon the fall of Duryodhana hath not yet abated in the least!" Even these were the words addressed to Bhimasena by the assembled eulogists on that occasion! Whilst those tigers among men, the Pancalas and the Pandavas, all filled with delight were indulging in such language, the slayer of Madhu addressed them, saying, "You rulers of men, it is not proper to slay a slain foe with such cruel speeches repeatedly uttered. This wight of wicked understanding hath already been slain. This sinful, shameless, and covetous wretch, surrounded by sinful counsellors and ever regardless of the advice of wise friends, met with his death even when he refused, though repeatedly urged to contrary by Vidura and Drona and Kripa and Sanjaya, to give unto the sons of Pandu their paternal share in the kingdom which they had solicited at his hands! This wretch is not now fit to be regarded either as a friend or a foe! What use in spending bitter breath upon one who hath now become a piece of wood! Mount your cars quickly, ye kings, for we should leave this place! By good luck, this sinful wretch hath been slain with his counsellors and kinsmen and friends!" Hearing these rebukes from Krishna, king Duryodhana, O monarch, gave way to wrath and endeavoured to rise. Sitting on his haunches and supporting himself on his two arms, he contracted his eyebrows and cast angry glances at Vasudeva. The form then of Duryodhana whose body was half raised looked like that of a poisonous snake, O Bharata, shorn of its tail. Disregarding his poignant and unbearable pains, Duryodhana began to afflict Vasudeva with keen and bitter words, "O son of Kansa's slave, thou hast, it seems, no shame, for hast thou forgotten that I have been struck down most unfairly, judged by the rules that prevail in encounters with the mace? It was thou who unfairly caused this act by reminding Bhima with a hint about the breaking of my thighs! Dost thou think I did not mark it when Arjuna (acting under thy advice) hinted it to Bhima? Having caused thousands of kings, who always fought fairly, to be slain through diverse kinds of unfair means, feelest thou no shame or no abhorrence for those acts? Day after day having caused a great carnage of heroic warriors, thou causedst the grandsire to be slain by placing Shikhandi to the fore! Having again caused an elephant of the name of Ashvatthama to be slain, O thou of wicked understanding, thou causedst the preceptor to lay aside his weapons. Thinkest thou that this is not known to me! While again that valiant hero was about to be slain this cruel Dhrishtadyumna, thou didst not dissuade the latter! The dart that had been begged (of Shakra as a boon) by Karna for the slaughter of Arjuna was baffled by thee through Ghatotkacha! Who is there that is more sinful than thou? Similarly, the mighty Bhurishrava, with one of his arms lopped off and while observant of the Praya vow, was caused to be slain by thee through the agency of the high-souled Satyaki. Karna had done a great feat for vanquishing Partha. Thou, however, causedst Aswasena, the son of that prince of snakes (Takshaka), to be baffled in achieving his purpose! When again the wheel of Karna's car sank in mire and Karna was afflicted with calamity and almost vanquished on that account, when, indeed, that foremost of men became anxious to liberate his wheel, thou causedst that Karna to be then slain! If ye had fought me and Karna and Bhishma and Drona by fair means, victory then, without doubt, would never have been yours. By adopting the most crooked and unrighteous of means thou hast caused many kings observant of the duties of their order and ourselves also to be slain!" "'Vasudeva said, "Thou, O son of Gandhari, hast been slain with thy brothers, sons, kinsmen, friends, and followers, only in consequence of the sinful path in which thou hast trod! Through thy evil acts those two heroes, Bhishma and Drona, have been slain! Karna too hath been slain for having imitated thy behaviour! Solicited by me, O fool, thou didst not, from avarice, give the Pandavas their paternal share, acting according to the counsels of Shakuni! Thou gavest poison to Bhimasena! Thou hadst, also, O thou of wicked understanding, endeavoured to burn all the Pandavas with their mother at the palace of lac! On the occasion also of the gambling, thou hadst persecuted the daughter of Yajnasena, while in her season, in the midst of the assembly! Shameless as thou art, even then thou becamest worthy of being slain! Thou hadst, through Subala's son well-versed in dice, unfairly vanquished the virtuous Yudhishthira who was unskilled in gambling! For that art thou slain! Through the sinful Jayadratha again, Krishna was on another occasion persecuted when the Pandavas, her lords, had gone out hunting towards the hermitage of Trinavindu! Causing Abhimanyu, who was a child and alone, to be surrounded by many, thou didst slay that hero. It is in consequence of that fault, O sinful wretch, that thou art slain! All those unrighteous acts that thou sayest have been perpetrated by us, have in reality been perpetrated by thee in consequence of thy sinful nature! Thou didst never listen to the counsels of Brihaspati and Usanas! Thou didst never wait upon the old! Thou didst never hear beneficial words! Enslaved by ungovernable covetousness and thirst of gain, thou didst perpetrate many unrighteous acts! Bear now the consequences of those acts of thine!" "'Duryodhana said, "I have studied, made presents according to the ordinance, governed the wide Earth with her seas, and stood over the heads of my foes! Who is there so fortunate as myself! That end again which is courted by Kshatriyas observant of the duties of their own order, death in battle, hath become mine. Who, therefore, is so fortunate as myself? Human enjoyments such as were worthy of the very gods and such as could with difficulty be obtained by other kings, had been mine. Prosperity of the very highest kind had been attained by me! Who then is so fortunate as myself? With all my well-wishers, and my younger brothers, I am going to heaven, O thou of unfading glory! As regards yourselves, with your purposes unachieved and torn by grief, live ye in this unhappy world!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Upon the conclusion of these words of the intelligent king of the Kurus, a thick shower of fragrant flowers fell from the sky. The Gandharvas played upon many charming musical instruments. The Apsaras in a chorus sang the glory of king Duryodhana. The Siddhas uttered loud sound to the effect, "Praise be to king Duryodhana!" Fragrant and delicious breezes mildly blew on every side. All the quarters became clear and the firmament looked blue as the lapis lazuli. Beholding these exceedingly wonderful things and this worship offered to Duryodhana, the Pandavas headed by Vasudeva became ashamed. Hearing (invisible beings cry out) that Bhishma and Drona and Karna and Bhurishrava were slain unrighteously, they became afflicted with grief and wept in sorrow. Beholding the Pandavas filled with anxiety and grief, Krishna addressed them in a voice deep as that of the clouds or the drum, saying, "All of them were great car-warriors and exceedingly quick in the use of weapons! If ye had put forth all your prowess, even then ye could never have slain them in battle by fighting fairly! King Duryodhana also could never be slain in a fair encounter! The same is the case with all those mighty car-warriors headed by Bhishma! From desire of doing good to you, I repeatedly applied my powers of illusion and caused them to be slain by diverse means in battle. If I had not adopted such deceitful ways in battle, victory would never have been yours, nor kingdom, nor wealth! Those four were very high-souled warriors and regarded as Atirathas in the world. The very Regents of the Earth could not slay them in fair fight! Similarly, the son of Dhritarashtra, though fatigued when armed with the mace, could not be slain in fair fight by Yama himself armed with his bludgeon! You should not take it to heart that this foe of yours hath been slain deceitfully. When the number of one's foes becomes great, then destruction should be effected by contrivances and means. The gods themselves, in slaying the Asuras, have trod the same way. That way, therefore, that hath been trod by the gods, may be trod by all. We have been crowned with success. It is evening. We had better depart to our tents. Let us all, ye kings, take rest with our steeds and elephants and cars." Hearing these words of Vasudeva, the Pandavas and the Pancalas, filled with delight, roared like a multitude of lions. All of them blew their conchs and Jadava himself blew Panchajanya, filled with joy, O bull among men, at the sight of Duryodhana struck down in battle.'" 62 "Sanjaya said, 'All those kings, possessed of arms that resembled spiked bludgeons, then proceeded towards their tents, filled with joy and blowing their conchs on their way. The Pandavas also, O monarch, proceeded towards our encampment. The great bowman Yuyutsu followed them, as also Satyaki, and Dhrishtadyumna, and Shikhandi, and the five sons of Draupadi. The other great bowmen also proceeded towards our tents. The Parthas then entered the tent of Duryodhana, shorn of its splendours and reft of its lord and looking like an arena of amusement after it has been deserted by spectators. Indeed, that pavilion looked like a city reft of festivities, or a lake without its elephant. It then swarmed with women and eunuchs and certain aged counsellors. Duryodhana and other heroes, attired in robes dyed in yellow, formerly used, O king, to wait reverentially, with joined hands, on those old counsellors. "'Arrived at the pavilion of the Kuru king, the Pandavas, those foremost of car-warriors, O monarch, dismounted from their cars. At that time, always engaged, O bull of Bharata's race, in the good of his friend, Keshava, addressed the wielder of Gandiva, saying, "Take down thy Gandiva as also the two inexhaustible quivers. I shall dismount after thee, O best of the Bharatas! Get thee down, for this is for thy good, O sinless one!" "'Pandu's brave son Dhananjaya did as he was directed. The intelligent Krishna, abandoning the reins of the steeds, then dismounted from the car of Dhananjaya. After the high-souled Lord of all creatures had dismounted from that car, the celestial Ape that topped the mantle of Arjuna's vehicle, disappeared there and then. The top of the vehicle, which had before been burnt by Drona and Karna with their celestial weapons, quickly blazed forth to ashes, O king, without any visible fire having been in sight. Indeed, the car of Dhananjaya, with its quick pairs of steeds, yoke, and shaft, fell down, reduced to ashes. "'Beholding the vehicle thus reduced to ashes, O lord, the sons of Pandu became filled with wonder, and Arjuna, O king, having saluted Krishna and bowed unto him, said these words, with joined hands and in an affectionate voice, "O Govinda, O divine one, for what reason hath this car been consumed by fire? What is this highly wonderful incident that has happened before our eyes! O thou of mighty arms, if thou thinkest that I can listen to it without harm, then tell me everything." "'Vasudeva said, "That car, O Arjuna, had before been consumed by diverse kinds of weapons. It was because I had sat upon it during battle that it did not fall into pieces, O scorcher of foes! Previously consumed by the energy of brahmastra, it has been reduced to ashes upon my abandoning it after attainment by thee of thy objects!" "'Then, with a little pride, that slayer of foes, the divine Keshava, embracing king Yudhishthira, said unto him, "By good luck, thou hast won the victory, O son of Kunti! By good luck, thy foes have been vanquished! By good luck, the wielder of Gandiva, Bhimasena the son of Pandu, thyself, O king, and the two sons of Madri have escaped with life from this battle so destructive of heroes, and have escaped after having slain all your foes! Quickly do that, O Bharata, which should now be done by thee! "'"After I had arrived at Upaplavya, thyself, approaching me, with the wielder of Gandiva in thy company, gavest me honey and the customary ingredients, and saidst these words, O Lord: 'This Dhananjaya, O Krishna, is thy brother and friend! He should, therefore, be protected by thee in all dangers!' After thou didst say these words, I answered thee, saying, 'So be it!' "'"That Savyasaci hath been protected by me. Victory also hath been thine, O king! With his brothers, O king of kings, that hero of true prowess hath come out of this dreadful battle, so destructive of heroes, with life!" Thus addressed by Krishna, King Yudhishthira the just, with hair standing on end, O monarch, said these words unto Janardana: "'Yudhishthira said, "Who else save thee, O grinder of foes, not excepting the thunder-wielding Purandara himself, could have withstood the brahmastras hurled by Drona and Karna! It was through thy grace that the Samsaptakas were vanquished! It was through thy grace that Partha had never to turn back from even the fiercest of encounters! Similarly, it was through thy grace, O mighty-armed one, that I myself, with my posterity, have, by accomplishing diverse acts one after another, obtained the auspicious end of prowess and energy! At Upaplavya, the great rishi Krishna-Dvaipayana told me that thither is Krishna where righteousness is, and thither is victory where Krishna is!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'After this conversation, those heroes entered thy encampment and obtained the military chest, many jewels, and much wealth. And they also obtained silver and gold and gems and pearls and many costly ornaments and blankets and skins, and innumerable slaves male and female, and many other things necessary for sovereignty. Having obtained that inexhaustible wealth belonging to thee, O bull of Bharata's race, those highly blessed ones, whose foe had been slain, uttered loud cries of exultation. Having unyoked their animals, the Pandavas and Satyaki remained there awhile for resting themselves. "'Then Vasudeva of great renown said, "We should, as an initiatory act of blessedness, remain out of the camp for this night." Answering, "So be it!" the Pandavas and Satyaki, accompanied by Vasudeva, went out of the camp for the sake of doing that which was regarded as an auspicious act. Arrived on the banks of the sacred stream Oghavati, O king, the Pandavas, reft of foes, took up their quarters there for that night! "'They despatched Keshava of Yadu's race to Hastinapura. Vasudeva of great prowess, causing Daruka to get upon his car, proceeded very quickly to that place where the royal son of Ambika was. While about to start on his car having Shaibya and Sugriva (and the others) yoked unto it, (the Pandavas) said unto him, "Comfort the helpless Gandhari who hath lost all her sons!' Thus addressed by the Pandavas, that chief of the Satvatas then proceeded towards Hastinapura and arrived at the presence of Gandhari who had lost all her sons in the war."'" 63 Janamejaya said, "For what reason did that tiger among kings, Yudhishthira the just, despatch that scorcher of foes, Vasudeva, unto Gandhari? Krishna had at first gone to the Kauravas for the sake of bringing about peace. He did not obtain the fruition of his wishes. In consequence of this the battle took place. When all the warriors were slain and Duryodhana was struck down, when in consequence of the battle the empire of Pandu's son became perfectly foeless, when all the (Kuru) camp became empty, all its inmates having fled, when great renown was won by the son of Pandu, what, O regenerate one, was the cause for which Krishna had once again to go to Hastinapura? It seems to me, O Brahmana, that the cause could not be a light one, for it was Janardana of immeasurable soul who had himself to make the journey! O foremost of all Adhyaryus, tell me in detail what the cause was for undertaking such a mission!" Vaishampayana said, "The question thou askest me, O king, is, indeed, worthy of thee! I will tell thee everything truly as it occurred, O bull of Bharata's race! Beholding Duryodhana, the mighty son of Dhritarashtra, struck down by Bhimasena in contravention of the rules of fair fight, in fact, beholding the Kuru king slain unfairly, O Bharata, Yudhishthira, O monarch, became filled with great fear, at the thought of the highly blessed Gandhari possessed of ascetic merit. 'She hath undergone severe ascetic austerities and can, therefore, consume the three worlds,' even thus thought the son of Pandu. By sending Krishna, Gandhari, blazing with wrath, would be comforted before Yudhishthira's own arrival. 'Hearing of the death of her son brought to such a plight by ourselves, she will, in wrath, with the fire of her mind, reduce us to ashes! How will Gandhari endure such poignant grief, after she hears her son, who always fought fairly, slain unfairly by us?' Having reflected in this strain for a long while, king Yudhishthira the just, filled with fear and grief, said these words unto Vasudeva: 'Through thy grace, O Govinda, my kingdom hath been reft of thorns! That which we could not in imagination even aspire to obtain hath now become ours, O thou of unfading glory! Before my eyes, O mighty-armed one, making the very hair stand on end, violent were the blows that thou hadst to bear, O delighter of the Yadavas! In the battle between the gods and the Asuras, thou hadst, in days of old, lent thy aid for the destruction of the foes of the gods and those foes were slain! In the same way, O mighty-armed one, thou hast given us aid, O thou of unfading glory! By agreeing to act as our charioteer, O thou of Vrishni's race, thou hast all along protected us! If thou hadst not been the protector of Phalguna in dreadful battle, how could then this sea of troops have been capable of being vanquished? Many were the blows of the mace, and many were the strokes of spiked bludgeons and darts and sharp arrows and lances and battle axes, that have been endured by thee! For our sake, O Krishna, thou hadst also to hear many harsh words and endure the fall, violent as the thunder, of weapons in battle! In consequence of Duryodhana's slaughter, all this has not been fruitless, O thou of unfading glory! Act thou again in such a way that the fruit of all those acts may not be destroyed! Although victory hath been ours, O Krishna, our heart, however, is yet trembling in doubt! Know, O Madhava, that Gandhari's wrath, O mighty-armed one, hath been provoked! That highly-blessed lady is always emaciating herself with the austerest of penances! Hearing of the slaughter of her sons and grandsons, she will, without doubt, consume us to ashes! It is time, O hero, I think, for pacifying her! Except thee, O foremost of men, what other person is there that is able to even behold that lady of eyes red like copper in wrath and exceedingly afflicted with the ills that have befallen her children? That thou shouldst go there, O Madhava, is what I think to be proper, for pacifying Gandhari, O chastiser of foes, who is blazing with wrath! Thou art the Creator and the Destroyer. Thou art the first cause of all the worlds thyself being eternal! By words fraught with reasons, visible and invisible that are all the result of time, thou wilt quickly, O thou of great wisdom, be able to pacify Gandhari! Our grandsire, the holy Krishna-Dvaipayana, will be there. O mighty-armed one, it is thy duty to dispel, by all means in thy power, the wrath of Gandhari!' Hearing these words of king Yudhishthira the just, the perpetuator of Yadu's race, summoning Daruka, said, 'Let my car be equipped!' Having received Keshava's command, Daruka in great haste, returned and represented unto his high-souled master that the car was ready. That scorcher of foes and chief of Yadu's race, the lord Keshava, having mounted the car, proceeded with great haste to the city of the Kurus. The adorable Madhava then, riding on his vehicle, proceeded, and arriving at the city called after the elephant entered it. Causing the city to resound with the rattle of his car-wheels as he entered it, he sent word to Dhritarashtra and then alighted from his vehicle and entered the palace of the old king. He there beheld that best of Rishis, (Dvaipayana) arrived before him. Janardana, embracing the feet of both Vyasa and Dhritarashtra, quietly saluted Gandhari also. Then the foremost of the Yadavas, Vishnu seizing Dhritarashtra by the hand, O monarch, began to weep melodiously. Having shed tears for a while from sorrow, he washed his eyes and his face with water according to rules. That chastiser of foes then said these softly flowing words unto Dhritarashtra, 'Nothing is unknown to thee, O Bharata, about the past and the future! Thou art well-acquainted, O lord, with the course of time! From a regard for thee, the Pandavas had endeavoured to prevent the destruction of their race and the extermination of Kshatriyas, O Bharata! Having made an understanding with his brothers, the virtuous Yudhishthira had lived peacefully. He even went to exile after defeat at unfair dice! With his brothers he led a life of concealment, attired in various disguises. They also every day got into diverse other woes as if they were quite helpless! On the eve of battle I myself came and in the presence of all men begged of thee only five villages. Afflicted by Time, and moved by covetousness, thou didst not grant my request. Through thy fault, O king, all the Kshatriya race hath been exterminated! Bhishma, and Somadatta, and Valhika, and Kripa, and Drona and his son, and the wise Vidura, always solicited thee for peace. Thou didst not, however, follow their counsels! Everyone, it seems, when afflicted by Time, is stupefied, O Bharata, since even thou, O king, as regards this matter, did act so foolishly! What else can it be but the effect of Time? Indeed, Destiny is supreme! Do not, O thou of great wisdom, impute any fault to the Pandavas! The smallest transgression is not discernible in the high-souled Pandavas, judged by the rules of morality or reason or affection, O scorcher of foes! Knowing all this to be the fruit of thy own fault, it behoveth thee not to cherish any ill-feeling towards the Pandavas! Race, line, funeral cake, and what else depends upon offspring, now depend on the Pandavas as regards both thyself and Gandhari! Thyself, O tiger among the Kurus, and the renowned Gandhari also, should not harbour malice towards the Pandavas. Reflecting upon all this, and thinking also of thy own transgressions, cherish good feeling towards the Pandavas. I bow to thee, O bull of Bharata's race! Thou knowest, O mighty-armed one, what the devotion is of king Yudhishthira and what his affection is towards thee, O tiger among kings! Having caused this slaughter of even foes that wronged him so, he is burning day and night, and hath not succeeded in obtaining peace of mind! That tiger among men, grieving for thee and for Gandhari, faileth to obtain any happiness. Overwhelmed with shame he cometh not before thee that art burning with grief on account of thy children and whose understanding and senses have been agitated by that grief!' Having said these words unto Dhritarashtra, that foremost one of Yadu's race, O monarch, addressed the grief-stricken Gandhari in these words of high import: 'O daughter of Subala, thou of excellent vows, listen to what I say! O auspicious dame, there is now no lady like thee in the world! Thou rememberest, O queen, those words that thou spokest in the assembly in my presence, those words fraught with righteousness and that were beneficial to both parties, which thy sons, O auspicious lady, did not obey! Duryodhana who coveted victory was addressed by thee in bitter words! Thou toldst him then. "Listen, O fool, to these words of mine: 'thither is victory where righteousness is.'" Those words of thine, O princess, have now been accomplished! Knowing all this, O auspicious lady, do not set thy heart on sorrow. Let not thy heart incline towards the destruction of the Pandavas! In consequence of the strength of thy penances, thou art able, O highly blessed one, to burn, with thy eyes kindled with rage, the whole Earth with her mobile and immobile creatures!' Hearing these words of Vasudeva, Gandhari said, 'It is even so, O Keshava, as thou sayest! My heart, burning in grief, has been unsteadied! After hearing thy words, however, that heart, O Janardana, hath again become steady. As regards the blind old king, now become child, thou, O foremost of men, with those heroes, the sons of Pandu, hast become his refuge!' Having said so much, Gandhari, burning in grief on account of the death of her sons, covered her face with her cloth and began to weep aloud. The mighty-armed lord Keshava then comforted the grief-stricken princess with words that were fraught with reasons drawn from visible instances. Having comforted Gandhari and Dhritarashtra, Keshava of Madhu's race came to know (by intuition) the evil that was meditated by Drona's son. Rising up in haste after worshipping the feet of Vyasa bending his head, Keshava, O monarch, addressed Dhritarashtra, saying, 'I take my leave, O foremost one of Kuru's race! Do not set thy heart on grief! The son of Drona bears an evil purpose. It is for this that I rise so suddenly! It seems that he has formed a plan of destroying the Pandavas during the night!' Hearing these words, both Gandhari and Dhritarashtra said unto Keshava that slayer of Keshi, these words: 'Go, quickly, O mighty-armed one, protect the Pandavas! Let me soon meet thee again, O Janardana!' Then Keshava of unfading glory proceeded with Daruka. After Vasudeva had departed, O king, Vyasa, that adored of the whole world, of inconceivable soul, began to comfort king Dhritarashtra. The righteous-souled Vasudeva departed, having achieved his mission successfully, from Hastinapura, for seeing the camp and the Pandavas. Arrived at the camp, he proceeded to the presence of the Pandavas. Telling them everything (about his mission to the city), he took his seat with them." 64 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Kicked at the head, his thighs broken, prostrated on the ground, exceedingly proud, what, O Sanjaya, did my son then say? King Duryodhana was exceedingly wrathful and his hostility to the sons of Pandu was deep-rooted. When therefore this great calamity overtook him, what did he next say on the field?' "Sanjaya said, 'Listen to me, O monarch, as I describe to thee what happened. Listen, O king, to what Duryodhana said when overtaken by calamity. With his thighs broken, the king, O monarch, covered with dust, gathered his flowing locks, casting his eyes on all sides. Having with difficulty gathered his locks, he began to sigh like a snake. Filled with rage and with tears flowing fast from his eyes, he looked at me. He struck his arms against the Earth for a while like an infuriated elephant. Shaking his loose locks, and gnashing his teeth, he began to censure the eldest son of Pandu. Breathing heavily, he then addressed me, saying, "Alas, I who had Santanu's son Bhishma for my protector, and Karna, that foremost of all wielders of weapons and Gotama's son, Shakuni, and Drona, that first of all wielders of arms, and Ashvatthama, and the heroic Shalya, and Kritavarma, alas, even I have come to this plight! It seems that Time is irresistible! I was the lord of eleven Chamus of troops and yet I have come to this plight! O mighty-armed one, no one can rise superior to Time! Those of my side that have escaped with life from this battle should be informed, how I have been struck down by Bhimasena in contravention of the rules of fair fight! Many have been the very unfair and sinful acts that have been perpetrated towards Bhurishrava, and Bhishma, and Drona of great prosperity! This is another very infamous act that the cruel Pandavas have perpetrated, for which, I am certain, they will incur the condemnation of all righteous men! What pleasure can a righteously disposed person enjoy at having gained a victory by unfair acts? What wise man, again, is there that would accord his approbation to a person contravening the rules of fairness? What learned man is there that would rejoice after having won victory by unrighteousness as that sinful wretch, Vrikodara the son of Pandu, rejoices? What can be more amazing than this, that Bhimasena in wrath should with his foot touch the head of one like me while lying with my thighs broken? Is that person, O Sanjaya, worthy of honour who behaveth thus towards a man possessed of glory endued with prosperity, living in the midst of friends? My parents are not ignorant of the duties of battle. Instructed by me, O Sanjaya, tell them that are afflicted with grief these words: I have performed sacrifices, supported a large number of servants properly, governed the whole earth with her seas! I stayed on the heads of my living foes! I gave wealth to my kinsmen to the extent of my abilities, and I did what was agreeable to friends. I withstood all my foes. Who is there that is more fortunate than myself? I have made progresses through hostile kingdoms and commanded kings as slaves. I have acted handsomely towards all I loved and liked. Who is there more fortunate than myself? I honoured all my kinsmen and attended to the welfare of all my dependants. I have attended to the three ends of human existence, Religion, Profit, and Pleasure! Who is there more fortunate than myself? I laid my commands on great kings, and honour, unattainable by others, was mine, I always made my journeys on the very best of steeds. Who is there more fortunate than myself? I studied the Vedas and made gifts according to the ordinance. My life has passed in happiness. By observance of the duties of my own order, I have earned many regions of blessedness hereafter. Who is there more fortunate than myself? By good luck, I have not been vanquished in battle and subjected to the necessity of serving my foes as masters. By good luck, O lord, it is only after my death that my swelling prosperity abandons me for waiting upon another! That which is desired by good Kshatriyas observant of the duties of their order, that death, is obtained by me! Who is there so fortunate as myself? By good luck, I did not suffer myself to be turned away from the path of hostility and to be vanquished like an ordinary person! By good luck, I have not been vanquished after I had done some base act! Like the slaughter of a person that is asleep or that is heedless, like the slaughter of one by the administration of poison, my slaughter hath taken place, for I have been slain as unrighteously, in contravention of the rules of fair fight! The highly blessed Ashvatthama, and Kritavarma of the Satwata race, and Saradwat's son Kripa, should be told these words of mine, 'You should never repose any confidence upon the Pandavas, those violators of rules, who have perpetrated many unrighteous acts!' After this, thy royal son of true prowess addressed our message-bearers in these words, "I have, in battle, been slain by Bhimasena most unrighteously! I am now like a moneyless wayfarer and shall follow in the wake of Drona who has already gone to heaven, of Karna and Shalya, of Vrishasena of great energy, of Shakuni the son of Subala, of Jalasandha of great valour, of king Bhagadatta, of Somadatta's son, that mighty bowman, of Jayadratha, the king of the Sindhus, of all my brothers headed by Duhshasana and equal unto myself, of Duhshasana's son of great prowess, and of Lakshmana, my son, and thousands of others that fought for me. Alas how shall my sister, stricken with woe, live sorrowfully, after hearing of the slaughter of her brothers and her husband! Alas, what shall be the plight of the old king, my sire, with Gandhari, and his daughters-in-law and grand-daughters-in-law! Without doubt, the beautiful and large-eyed mother of Lakshmana, made sonless and husbandless, will soon meet with her death! If Charvaka, the mendicant devotee who is a master of speech, learns everything, that blessed man will certainly avenge himself of my death! By dying upon the sacred field of Samantapanchaka, celebrated over the three worlds, I shall certainly obtain many eternal regions!" Then, O sire, thousands of men, with eyes full of tears, fled away in all directions, having heard these lamentations of the king. The whole Earth, with her forests and seas, with all her mobile and immobile creatures, began to tremble violently, and produce a loud noise. All the points of the compass became murky. The messengers, repairing to Drona's son, represented to him all that had happened regarding the conduct of the mace-encounter and the fall of the king. Having represented everything unto Drona's son, O Bharata, all of them remained in a thoughtful mood for a long while and then went away, grief-stricken, to the place they came from.'" 65 "Sanjaya said, 'Having heard of Duryodhana's fall from the messengers, those mighty car-warriors, the unslain remnant of the Kaurava army, exceedingly wounded with keen shafts, and maces and lances and darts, those three, Ashvatthama and Kripa and Kritavarma of the Satwata race, came quickly on their fleet steeds to the field of battle. They beheld there the high-souled son of Dhritarashtra prostrate on the ground like a gigantic Sala tree laid low in the forest by a tempest. They beheld him writhing on the bare ground and covered with blood even like a mighty elephant in the forest laid low by a hunter. They saw him weltering in agony and bathed in profuse streams of blood. Indeed, they saw him lying on the ground like the sun dropped on the earth or like the ocean dried by a mighty wind, or like the full Moon in the firmament with his disc shrouded by a fog. Equal to an elephant in prowess and possessed of long arms, the king lay on the earth, covered with dust. Around him were many terrible creatures and carnivorous animals like wealth-coveting dependants around a monarch in state. His forehead was contracted into furrows of rage and his eyes were rolling in wrath. They beheld the king, that tiger among men, full of rage, like a tiger struck down (by hunters). Those great archers Kripa and others, beholding the monarch laid low on the Earth, became stupefied. Alighting from their cars, they ran towards the king. Seeing Duryodhana, all of them sat on the earth around him. Then Drona's son, O monarch, with tearful eyes and breathing like a snake, said these words unto that chief of Bharata's race, that foremost of all the kings on earth, "Truly, there is nothing stable in the world of men, since thou, O tiger among men, liest on the bare earth, stained with dust! Thou wert a king who had laid thy commands on the whole Earth! Why then, O foremost of monarchs, dost thou lie alone on the bare ground in such a lonely wilderness? I do not see Duhshasana beside thee, nor the great car-warrior Karna, nor those friends of thine numbering in hundreds! What is this, O bull among men? Without doubt, it is difficult to learn the ways of Yama, since thou, O lord of all the worlds, thus liest on the bare ground, stained with dust! Alas, this scorcher of foes used to walk at the head of all Kshatriyas that had their locks sprinkled with holy water at ceremonies of coronation! Alas, he now eateth the dust! Behold the reverses that Time bringeth on its course! Where is that pure white umbrella of thine? Where is that fanning yak-tail also, O king? Where hath that vast army of thine now gone, O best of monarchs? The course of events is certainly a mystery when causes other than those relied upon are at book, since even thou that wert the master of the world hast been reduced to this plight! Without doubt, the prosperity of all mortals is very unstable, since thou that wert equal unto Shakra himself hast now been reduced to such a sorry plight!" Hearing these words of the sorrowing Ashvatthama, thy son answered him in these words that were suited to the occasion. He wiped his eyes with his hands and shed tears of grief anew. The king then addressed all those heroes headed by Kripa and said, "This liability to death (of all living creatures) is said to have been ordained by the Creator himself. Death comes to all beings in course of time. That death hath now come to me, before the eyes of you all! I who reigned over the whole earth have now been reduced to this plight! By good luck, I never turned back from battle whatever calamities overtook me. By good luck, I have been slain by those sinful men, by the aid particularly of deception. By good luck, while engaged in hostilities, I always displayed courage and perseverance. By good luck, I am slain in battle, along with all my kinsmen and friends. By good luck, I behold you escaped with life from this great slaughter, and safe and sound. This is highly agreeable to me. Do not, from affection, grieve for my death. If the Vedas are any authority, I have certainly acquired many eternal regions! I am not ignorant of the glory of Krishna of immeasurable energy. He hath not caused me to fall off from the proper observance of Kshatriya duties. I have obtained him. On no account should anybody grieve from me. Ye have done what persons like ye should do. Ye have always striven for my success. Destiny, however, is incapable of being frustrated." Having said this much, the king, with eyes laved with tears, became silent, O monarch, agitated as he was with agony. Beholding the king in tears and grief, Drona's son flamed up in anger like the fire that is seen at the universal destruction. Overwhelmed with rage, he squeezed his hand and addressing the king in a voice hoarse with tears, he said these words, "My sire was slain by those wretches with a cruel contrivance. That act, however, doth not burn me so keenly as this plight to which thou hast been reduced, O king! Listen to these words of mine that I utter, swearing by Truth itself, O lord, and by all my acts of piety, all my gifts, my religion, and the religious merits I have won. I shall today, in the very presence of Vasudeva, despatch all the Pancalas, by all means in my power, to the abode of Yama? It behoveth thee, O monarch, to grant me permission!" Hearing these words of Drona's son, that were highly agreeable to his heart, the Kuru king addressing Kripa, said, "O preceptor, bring me without delay a pot full of water!" At these words of the king, that foremost of Brahmanas soon brought a vessel full of water and approached the king. Thy son then, O monarch, said unto Kripa, "Let the son of Drona, O foremost of Brahmanas, (blessed be thou), be at my command installed as generalissimo, if thou wishest to do me the good! At the command of the king, even a Brahmana may fight, specially one that has adopted Kshatriya practices! Those learned in the scriptures say this!" Hearing these words of the king, Kripa, the son of Saradwat, installed Drona's son as generalissimo, at the king's command! The installation over, O monarch, Ashvatthama embraced that best of kings and left the spot, having caused the ten points to resound with his leonine roars. That foremost of kings, Duryodhana, profusely covered with blood, began to pass there that night so frightful to all creatures. Wending away quickly from the field of battle, O king, those heroes, with hearts agitated by grief, began to reflect anxiously and earnestly.'" The End of Shalya-parva. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 10 Sauptika-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 Om! Having bowed down unto Narayana, and Nara the most exalted of male beings, and unto the goddess Sarasvati, must the word Jaya be uttered! "Sanjaya said, 'Those heroes then together proceeded towards the south. At the hour of sunset they reached a spot near the (Kuru) encampment. Letting their animals loose they became very much frightened. Reaching then a forest, they secretly entered it. They took up their quarters there at no great distance from the encampment. Cut and mangled with many keen weapons, they breathed long and hot sighs, thinking of the Pandavas. Hearing the loud noise made by the victorious Pandavas, they feared a pursuit and therefore fled towards the east. Having proceeded for sometime, their animals became tired and they themselves became thirsty. Overpowered by wrath and vindictiveness, those great bowmen could not put up with what had occurred, burning as they did with (grief at) the slaughter of the king. They however, took rest for a while.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'The feat, O Sanjaya, that Bhima achieved seems to be incredible, since my son who was struck down possessed the strength of 10,000 elephants. In manhood's prime and possessed of an adamantine frame, he was not capable of being slain by any creature! Alas, even that son of mine was struck down by the Pandavas in battle! Without doubt, O Sanjaya, my heart is made of adamant, since it breaks not into a 1,000 fragments even after hearing of the slaughter of my hundred sons! Alas, what will be the plight of myself and my spouse, an old couple destitute of children! I dare not dwell in the dominions of Pandu's son! Having been the sire of a king and a king myself, O Sanjaya, how shall I pass my days as a slave obedient to the commands of Pandu's son! Having laid my commands over the whole Earth and having stayed over the heads of all, O Sanjaya, how shall I live now as a slave in wretchedness? How shall I be able, O Sanjaya, to endure the words of Bhima who hath single-handed slain a full hundred sons of mine? The words of the high-souled Vidura have come to be realised! Alas, my son, O Sanjaya, did not listen to those words! What, however, did Kritavarma and Kripa and Drona's son do after my son Duryodhana had been unfairly stuck down?' "Sanjaya said, 'They had not proceeded far, O king, when they stopped, for they beheld a dense forest abounding with trees and creepers. Having rested for a little while, they entered that great forest, proceeding on their cars drawn by their excellent steeds whose thirst had been assuaged. That forest abounded with diverse kinds of animals, and it teemed with various species of birds. And it was covered with many trees and creepers and was infested by numerous carnivorous creatures. Covered with many pieces of water and adorned with various kinds of flowers, it had many lakes overgrown with blue lotuses. "'Having entered that dense forest, they cast their eyes about and saw a gigantic banyan tree with thousands of branches. Repairing to the shade of that tree, those great car-warriors, O king, those foremost of men, saw that was the biggest tree in that forest. Alighting from their cars, and letting loose their animals, they cleansed themselves duly and said their evening prayers. The Sun then reached the Asta mountains, and Night, the mother of the universe, came. The firmament, bespangled with planets and stars, shone like an ornamented piece of brocade and presented a highly agreeable spectacle. Those creatures that walk the night began to howl and utter their cries at will, while they that walk the day owned the influence of sleep. Awful became the noise of the night-wandering animals. The carnivorous creatures became full of glee, and the night, as it deepened, became dreadful. "'At that hour, filled with grief and sorrow, Kritavarma and Kripa and Drona's son all sat down together. Seated under that banyan, they began to give expression to their sorrow in respect of that very matter: the destruction that had taken place of both the Kurus and the Pandavas. Heavy with sleep, they laid themselves down on the bare earth. They had been exceedingly tired and greatly mangled with shafts. The two great car-warriors, Kripa and Kritavarma, succumbed to sleep. However deserving of happiness and undeserving of misery, they then lay stretched on the bare ground. Indeed, O monarch, those two who had always slept on costly beds now slept, like helpless persons, on the bare ground, afflicted with toil and grief. "'Drona's son, however, O Bharata, yielding to the influence of wrath and reverence, could not sleep, but continued to breathe like a snake. Burning with rage, he could not get a wink of slumber. That hero of mighty arms cast his eyes on every side of that terrible forest. As he surveyed that forest peopled with diverse kinds of creatures, the great warrior beheld a large banyan covered with crows. On that banyan thousands of crows roosted in the night. Each perching separately from its neighbour, those crows slept at ease, O Kauravya! As, however, those birds were sleeping securely on every side, Ashvatthama beheld an owl of terrible aspect suddenly make its appearance there. Of frightful cries and gigantic body, with green eyes and tawny plumage, its nose was very large and its talons were long. And the speed with which it came resembled that of Garuda. Uttering soft cries that winged creature, O Bharata, secretly approached the branches of that banyan. That ranger of the sky, that slayer of crows, alighting on one of the branches of the banyan, slew a large number of his sleeping enemies. He tore the wings of some and cut off the heads of others with his sharp talons and broke the legs of many. Endued with great strength, he slew many that fell down before his eyes. With the limbs and bodies, O monarch, of the slain crows, the ground covered by the spreading branches of the banyan became thickly strewn on every side. Having slain those crows, the owl became filled with delight like a slayer of foes after having behaved towards his foes according to his pleasure. "'Beholding that highly suggestive deed perpetrated in the night by the owl, Drona's son began to reflect on it, desirous of framing his own conduct by the light of that example. He said unto himself, "This owl teaches me a lesson in battle. Bent as I am upon the destruction of the foe, the time for the deed has come! The victorious Pandavas are incapable of being slain by me! They are possessed of might, endued with perseverance, sure of aim, and skilled in smiting. In the presence, however, of the king I have vowed to slay them. I have thus pledged myself to a self-destructive act, like an insect essaying to rush into a blazing fire! If I were to fight fairly with them, I shall, without doubt, have to lay down my life! By an act of guile, however, success may yet be mine and a great destruction may overtake my foes! People generally, as also those versed in the scriptures, always applaud those means which are certain over those which are uncertain. Whatever of censure and evil repute this act may provoke ought to be incurred by person that is observant of Kshatriya practices. The Pandavas of uncleansed souls have, at every step, perpetrated very ugly and censurable acts that are again fall of guile. As regards this matter, certain ancient verses, full of truth, are heard, sung by truth-seeing and righteousness-observing persons, who sang them after a careful consideration of the demands of justice. "'"These verses are even these: 'The enemy's force, even when fatigued, or wounded with weapons, or employed in eating, or when retiring, or when resting within their camp, should be smitten. They should be dealt with in the same way when afflicted with sleep in the dead of night, or when reft of commanders, or when broken or when under the impression of an error.'" "'Having reflected in this way, the valiant son of Drona formed the resolution of slaying during the night the slumbering Pandavas and the Pancalas. Having formed this wicked resolution and pledged himself repeatedly to its execution, he awoke both his maternal uncle and the chief of Bhojas. Awakened from sleep, those two illustrious and mighty persons, Kripa and the Bhoja chief, heard Ashvatthama's scheme. Filled with shame, both of them abstained from giving a suitable reply. "'Having reflected for a short while, Ashvatthama said with tearful eyes, "King Duryodhana, that one hero of great might, for whose sake we were waging hostilities with the Pandavas, hath been slain! Deserted and alone, though he was the lord of eleven Akshauhinis of troops, that hero of unstained prowess hath been struck down by Bhimasena and a large number of wretches banded together in battle! Another wicked act hath been perpetrated by the vile Vrikodara, for the latter hath touched with his foot the head of a person whose coronal locks underwent the sacred bath! The Pancalas are uttering loud roars and cries and indulging in loud bursts of laughter. Filled with joy, they are blowing their conchs and beating their drums! The loud peal of their instruments, mingled with the blare of conchs, is frightful to the ear and borne by the winds, is filling all the points of the compass. Loud also is the din made by their neighing steeds and grunting elephants and roaring warriors! That deafening noise made by the rejoicing warriors as they are marching to their quarters, as also the frightful clatter of their car-wheels, comes to us from the east. So great hath been the havoc made by the Pandavas on the Dhartarashtras that we three are the only survivors of that great carnage! Some were endued with the might of a hundred elephants, and some were masters of all weapons. Yet have they been slain by the sons of Pandu! I regard this to be an instance of the reverses brought about by Time! Truly, this is the end to which such an act leads! Truly, although the Pandavas have achieved such difficult feats, even this should be the result of those feats! If your wisdom hath not been driven away by stupefaction, then say what is proper for us to do in view of this calamitous and grave affair."'" 2 "'Kripa said, "We have heard all that thou hast said, O puissant one! Listen, however, to a few words of mine, O mighty armed one! All men are subjected to and governed by these two forces, Destiny and Exertion. There is nothing higher than these two. Our acts do not become successful in consequence of destiny alone, nor of exertion alone, O best of men! Success springs from the union of the two. All purposes, high and low, are dependent on a union of those two. In the whole world, it is through these two that men are seen to act as also to abstain. What result is produced by the clouds pouring upon a mountain? What results are not produced by them pouring upon a cultivated field? Exertion, where destiny is not auspicious, and absence of exertion where destiny is auspicious, both these are fruitless! What I have said before (about the union of the two) is the truth. If the rains properly moisten a well-tilled soil, the seed produces great results. Human success is of this nature. "'"Sometimes, Destiny, having settled a course of events, acts of itself (without waiting for exertion). For all that, the wise, aided by skill have recourse to exertion. All the purposes of human acts, O bull among men, are accomplished by the aid of those two together. Influenced by these two, men are seen to strive or abstain. Recourse may be had to exertion. But exertion succeeds through destiny. It is in consequence also of destiny that one who sets himself to work, depending on exertion, attains to success. The exertion, however, of even a competent man, even when well directed, is without the concurrence of destiny, seen in the world to be unproductive of fruit. Those, therefore, among men, that are idle and without intelligence, disapprove of exertion. This however, is not the opinion of the wise. "'"Generally, an act performed is not seen to be unproductive of fruit in the world. The absent of action, again, is seen to be productive of grave misery. A person obtaining something of itself without having made any efforts, as also one not obtaining anything even after exertion, is not to be seen. One who is busy in action is capable of supporting life. He, on the other hand, that is idle, never obtains happiness. In this world of men it is generally seen that they that are addicted to action are always inspired by the desire of earning good. If one devoted to action succeeds in gaining his object or fails to obtain the fruit of his acts, he does not become censurable in any respect. If anyone in the world is seen to luxuriously enjoy the fruits of action without doing any action, he is generally seen to incur ridicule and become an object of hatred. He who, disregarding this rule about action, liveth otherwise, is said to do an injury to himself. This is the opinion of those that are endued with intelligence. "'"Efforts become unproductive of fruits in consequence of these two reasons: destiny without exertion and exertion without destiny. Without exertion, no act in this world becomes successful. Devoted to action and endued with skill, that person, however, who, having bowed down to the gods, seeks, the accomplishment of his objects, is never lost. The same is the case with one who, desirous of success, properly waits upon the aged, asks of them what is for his good, and obeys their beneficial counsels. Men approved by the old should always be solicited for counsel while one has recourse to exertion. These men are the infallible root of means, and success is dependent on means. He who applies his efforts after listening to the words of the old, soon reaps abundant fruits from those efforts. That man who, without reverence and respect for others (capable of giving him good counsel), seeks the accomplishment of his purposes, moved by passion, anger, fear, and avarice, soon loses his prosperity. "'"This Duryodhana, stained by covetousness and bereft of foresight, had without taking counsel, foolishly commenced to seek the accomplishment of an undigested project. Disregarding all his well-wishers and taking counsel with only the wicked, he had, though dissuaded, waged hostilities with the Pandavas who are his superiors in all good qualities. He had, from the beginning, been very wicked. He could not restrain himself. He did not do the bidding of friends. For all that, he is now burning in grief and amid calamity. As regards ourselves since we have followed that sinful wretch, this great calamity hath, therefore, overtaken us! This great calamity has scorched my understanding. Plunged in reflection, I fail to see what is for our good! "'"A man that is stupefied himself should ask counsel of his friends. In such friends he hath his understanding, his humility, and his prosperity. One's actions should have their root in them. That should be done which intelligent friends, having settled by their understanding, should counsel. Let us, therefore, repair to Dhritarashtra and Gandhari and the high-souled Vidura and ask them as what we should do. Asked by us, they will say what, after all this, is for our good. We should do what they say. Even this is my certain resolution. Those men whose acts do not succeed even after the application of exertion, should, without doubt, be regarded as afflicted by destiny."'" 3 "Sanjaya said, 'Hearing these words of Kripa that were auspicious and fraught with morality and profit, Ashvatthama, O monarch, became overwhelmed with sorrow and grief. Burning with grief as if with a blazing fire, he formed a wicked resolution and then addressed them both saying, "The faculty of understanding is different in different men. Each man, however, is pleased with own understanding. Every man regards himself more intelligent than others. Everyone respects his own understanding and accords it great praise. Everyone's own wisdom is with every one a subject of praise. Everyone speaks ill of the wisdom of others, and well of his own, in all instances. Men whose judgements agree with respect to any unattained object, even though there be a variety of considerations, become gratified with and applaud one another. The judgements, again, of the same men, overwhelmed with reverses through the influence of time, become opposed to one another. More particularly, in consequence of the diversity of human intellects, judgements necessarily differ when intellects are clouded. "'"As a skilful physician, having duly diagnosed a disease, prescribes a medicine by the application of his intelligence for effecting a cure, even so men, for the accomplishment of their acts, use their intelligence, aided by their own wisdom. What they do is again disapproved by others. A man, in youth, is affected by one kind of understanding. In middle age, the same does not prevail with him, and in the period of decay, a different kind of understanding becomes agreeable to him. When fallen into terrible distress or when visited by great prosperity, the understanding of a person, O chief of the Bhojas, is seen to be much afflicted. In one and the same person, through want of wisdom, the understanding becomes different at different times. That understanding which at one time is acceptable becomes the reverse of that at another time. "'"Having resolved, however, according to one's wisdom, that resolution which is excellent should be endeavoured to be accomplished. Such resolution, therefore, should force him to put forth exertion. All persons, O chief of the Bhojas, joyfully begin to act, even in respect of enterprises that lead to death, in the belief that those enterprises are achievable by them. All men, relying on their own judgements and wisdom, endeavour to accomplish diverse purposes, knowing them to be beneficial. The resolution that has possessed my mind today in consequence of our great calamity, as something that is capable of dispelling my grief, I will now disclose unto both of you. "'"The Creator, having formed his creatures, assigned unto each his occupation. As regards the different orders, he gave unto each a portion of excellence. Unto Brahmanas he assigned that foremost of all things, the Veda. Unto the Kshatriya he assigned superior energy. Unto the Vaishya he gave skill, and unto the Shudra he gave the duty of serving the three other classes. Hence, a Brahmana without self-restraint is censurable. A Kshatriya without energy is base. A Vaishya without skill is worthy of dispraise, as also a Shudra who is bereft of humility (to the other orders). "'"I am born in an adorable and high family of Brahmanas. Through ill-luck, however, I am wedded to Kshatriya practices. If, conversant as I am with Kshatriya duties, I adopt now the duties of a Brahmana and achieve a high object (the purification of self under such injuries), that course would not be consistent with nobleness. I hold an excellent bow and excellent weapons in battle. If I do not avenge the slaughter of my sire, how shall I open my mouth in the midst of men? Paying regard to Kshatriya duties, therefore, without hesitation, I shall today walk in the steps of my high-souled sire and the king. "'"The Pancalas, elated with victory, will trustfully sleep tonight, having put off their armour and in great glee, and filled with happiness at the thought of the victory they have won, and spent with toil and exertion. While sleeping at their ease during the night within their own camp, I shall make a great and terrible assault upon their camp. Like Maghavat slaying the Danavas, I shall, attacking them while senseless and dead in sleep in their camp, slay them all, putting forth my prowess. Like a blazing fire consuming a heap of dry grass, I shall slay all of them assembled in one place with their leader Dhrishtadyumna! Having slain the Pancalas, I shall obtain peace of mind, O best of men! While engaged in the act of slaughter, I shall career in their midst like the wielder of Pinaka, Rudra himself, in rage among living creatures. Having cut off and slain all the Pancalas today, I shall then, in joy, afflict the sons of Pandu in battle. Taking their lives one after another and causing the earth to be strewn with the bodies of all the Pancalas, I shall pay off the debt I owe to my sire. I shall today make the Pancalas follow in the wake, hard to tread, of Duryodhana and Karna and Bhishma, and the ruler of the Sindhus. Putting forth my might, I shall tonight grind the head, like that of any animal, of Dhrishtadyumna, the king of the Pancalas! I shall tonight, O son of Gautama, cut off with my sharp sword, in battle, the sleeping sons of the Pancalas and the Pandavas. Having exterminated the Pancalas army tonight while sunk in sleep, I shall, O thou of great intelligence, obtain great happiness and regard myself to have done my duty!"'" 4 "'Kripa said, "By good luck, O thou of unfading glory, thy heart is set today on vengeance. The wielder of the thunder himself will not succeed in dissuading thee today. Both of us, however, shall accompany thee in the morning. Putting off thy armour and taking down thy standard, take rest for this night. I shall accompany thee, as also Kritavarma of the Satvata race, clad in mail and riding on our cars, while thou shalt proceed against the foe. United with ourselves, thou shalt slay the foes, the Pancalas with all their followers, tomorrow in press of battle, putting forth thy prowess, O foremost of car-warriors! If thou puttest forth thy prowess, thou art quite competent to achieve that fear! Take rest, therefore, for this night. Thou hast kept thyself awake for many a night. Having rested and slept, and having become quite refreshed, O giver of honours, encounter the foe in battle! Thou shalt then slay the enemy, without doubt. No one, not even Vasava amongst the gods, would venture to vanquish thee armed with foremost of weapons, O first of car-warriors! Who is there that would, even if he be the chief of the gods himself, fight Drona's son, when the latter proceeds, accompanied by Kripa and protected by Kritavarma? Therefore, having rested and slept this night and shaken off fatigue, we shall slay the foe tomorrow morning! Thou art a master of celestial weapons. I also am so, without doubt. This hero of Satvata's race is a mighty bowman, always skilled in battle. All of us, uniting together, O son, shall succeed in slaying our assembled foes in battle by putting forth our might. Great shall be our happiness then! Dispelling thy anxieties, rest for this night and sleep happily! Myself and Kritavarma, both armed with bows and capable of scorching our enemies, will, clad in mail, follow thee, O best of men, while thou shalt proceed on thy car against the enemy. Proceeding to their camp and proclaiming thy name in battle, thou shalt then make a great slaughter of the foe. Tomorrow morning, in broad daylight, having caused a great slaughter among them thou shalt sport like Shakra after the slaughter of great Asuras. Thou art quite competent to vanquish the army of the Pancalas in battle like the slayer of the Danavas in vanquishing in rage the danava host. United with myself in battle and protected by Kritavarma, thou art incapable of being withstood by the wielder of the thunderbolt himself. "'"Neither I, O son, nor Kritavarma, will ever retreat from battle without having vanquished the Pandavas! Having slain the angry Pancalas along with the Pandavas, we shall come away, or slain by them, we shall proceed to heaven. By every means in our power, we two shall render thee assistance in battle tomorrow morning. O thou of mighty arms, I tell thee the truth, O sinless one!" "'Addressed in these beneficial words by his maternal uncle, the son of Drona, with eyes red in rage, answered his uncle, O king, saying, "Where can a person that is afflicted, or one that is under the influence of rage, or one whose heart is always engaged in revolving projects for the acquisition of wealth, or one that is under the power of lust, obtain sleep? Behold, all these four causes are present in my case. Any one of these, singly would destroy sleep. How great is the grief of that person whose heart is always thinking of the slaughter of his sire! My heart is now burning day and night. I fail to obtain peace. The way in which my sire in particular was slain by those sinful wretches hath been witnessed by you all. The thought of that slaughter is cutting all my vitals. How could a person like me live for even a moment after hearing the Pancalas say that they have slain my father? I cannot bear the thought of supporting life without having slain Dhrishtadyumna in battle. In consequence of the slaughter of my father he hath become slayable by me, as also all with whom he is united. Who is there so hard-hearted that would not burn after having heard the lamentations that I have heard of the king lying with broken thighs? Who is there so destitute of compassion whose eyes would not be filled with tears after hearing such words uttered by the king with broken thighs? They whose side was adopted by me have been vanquished. The thought of this enhances my sorrow as a rush of waters enhances the sea. "'"Protected as they are by Vasudeva and Arjuna, I regard them, O uncle, to be irresistible by the great Indra himself. I am unable to restrain this rising wrath in my heart. I do not behold the man in this world that can assuage this wrath of mine! The messengers informed me of the defeat of my friends and the victory of the Pandavas. That is burning my heart. Having however, caused a slaughter of my enemies during their sleep, I shall then take rest and shall then sleep without anxiety."'" 5 "'Kripa said, "A person who is bereft of intelligence and who hath not his passions under control, cannot, even if he waits dutifully upon his superiors, understand all the considerations of morality. This is my opinion. Similarly, an intelligent person who does not practise humility fails to understand the settled conclusions of morality. A brave man, if bereft of understanding, by waiting all his life upon a learned person fails to know his duties, like a wooden ladle unable to taste the juicy soup (in which it may lie immersed). The wise man, however, by waiting upon a learned person for even a moment, succeeds in knowing his duties, like the tongue tasting the juicy soup (as soon as it comes into contact with the latter). That person who is endued with intelligence, who waits upon his superiors, and who has his passions under control succeeds in knowing all the rules of morality and never disputes with what is accepted by all. An ungovernable, irreverent, and sinful person of wicked soul perpetrates sin in seeking his well-being by disregarding destiny. "'"Well-wishers seek to restrain a friend from sin. He who suffers himself to be dissuaded, succeeds in winning prosperity. He that does otherwise reaps misery. As a person of disordered brains is restrained by soothing words, even so should a friend be restrained by well-wishers. He that suffers himself to be so restrained never becomes a prey to misery. When a wise friend is about to perpetrate a wicked act, well-wishers possessed of wisdom repeatedly and according to the extent of their power endeavour to restrain him. Setting thy heart on what is truly beneficial, and restraining thyself by thy own self, do my bidding, O son, so that thou mayst not have to repent afterwards. "'"In this world, the slaughter of sleeping persons is not applauded, agreeably to the dictates of religion. The same is the case with persons that have laid down their arms and come down from cars and steeds. They also are unslayable who say 'We are thine!' and they that surrender themselves, and they whose locks are dishevelled, and they whose animals have been killed under them or whose cars have been broken. All the Pancalas will sleep tonight, O lord, divesting themselves of armour. Trustfully sunk in sleep, they will be like dead men. That crooked-minded man who would wage hostility with them then, it is evident, would sink in deep and limitless hell without a raft save himself. In this world thou art celebrated as the foremost of all persons conversant with weapons. Thou hast not as yet committed even a minute trespass. When the sun rises next morning and light shall discover all things, thyself, like a second sun in effulgence wilt conquer the foe in battle. This censurable deed, so impossible in one like thee, will look like a red spot on a white sheet. Even this is my opinion." "'Ashvatthama said, "Without doubt, it is even so, O maternal uncle, as thou sayest. The Pandavas, however, have before this broken the bridge of righteousness into a hundred fragments. In the very sight of all the kings, before thy eyes also, my sire, after he had laid down his weapons, was slain by Dhrishtadyumna. Karna also, that foremost of car-warriors, after the wheel of his car had sunk and he had been plunged into great distress, was slain by the wielder of Gandiva. Similarly, Shantanu's son Bhishma, after he had laid aside his weapons and become disarmed, was slain by Arjuna with Shikhandi placed in his van. So also, the mighty bowman Bhurishrava, while observant of the praya vow on the field of battle, was slain by Yuyudhana in total disregard of the cries of all the kings! Duryodhana too, having encountered Bhima in battle with the mace, hath been slain unrighteously by the former in the very sight of all the lords of earth. The king was all alone in the midst of a large number of mighty car-warriors standing around him. Under such circumstances was that tiger among men slain by Bhimasena. Those lamentations that I have heard, of the king lying prostrate on the earth with his thighs broken, from the messengers circulating the news, are cutting the very core of my heart. The unrighteous and sinful Pancalas, who have broken down the barrier of virtue, are even such. Why do you not censure them who have transgressed all considerations? Having slain the Pancalas, those slayers of my sire, in the night when they are buried in sleep, I care not if I am born a worm or a winged insect in my next life. That which I have resolved is hurrying me towards its accomplishment. Hurried as I am by it, how can I have sleep and happiness? That man is not yet born in the world, nor will be, who will succeed in baffling this resolution that I have formed for their destruction."' "Sanjaya continued, 'Having said these words, O monarch, the valiant son of Drona yoked his steeds to his car at a corner and set out towards the direction of his enemies. Then Bhoja and Sharadvata's son, those high-souled persons, addressed him, saying, "Why dost thou yoke the steeds to thy car? Upon what business art thou bent? We are determined to accompany thee tomorrow, O bull among men! We sympathise with thee in weal and woe. It behoveth thee not to mistrust us. Remembering the slaughter of his sire, Ashvatthama in rage told them truly about the feat that he had resolved to accomplish. When my sire, having slain hundreds and thousands of warriors with keen shafts, had laid aside his weapons, he was then slain by Dhrishtadyumna. I shall slay that slayer today in a similar condition that is, when he will have laid aside his armour. The sinful son of the king of the Pancalas I shall today slay by a sinful act. It is my resolve to slay like an animal that sinful prince of the Pancalas in such a way that he may not attain to regions earned by persons slain with weapons! Put on your coats of mail without delay and take your bows and swords, and wait for me here, ye foremost of car-warrior and scorchers of foes." "'Having said these words, Ashvatthama got upon his car and set out towards the direction of the enemy. Then Kripa, O king, and Kritavarma of the Satvata race, both followed him. While the three proceeded against the enemy, they shone like three blazing fires in a sacrifice, fed with libations of clarified butter. They proceeded, O lord, towards the camp of the Pancalas within which everybody was asleep. Having approached the gate, Drona's son, that mighty car-warrior, stopped.'" 6 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Seeing Drona's son stop at the gate of the encampment, what, O Sanjaya, did those two mighty car-warriors, Kripa and Kritavarma, do? Tell me this!' "Sanjaya said, 'Inviting Kritavarma, as also the mighty car-warrior Kripa, Drona's son, filled with rage, approached the gate of the camp. He there beheld a being of gigantic frame, capable of making the very hair stand on end, and possessed of the effulgence of the Sun or the Moon, guarding the entrance. Round his loins was a tiger-skin dripping with blood, and he had a black deer for his upper garment. He had for his sacred thread a large snake. His arms were long and massive and held many kinds of uplifted weapons. He had for his angadas a large snake wound round his upper arm. His mouth seemed to blaze with flames of fire. His teeth made his face terrible to behold. His mouth was open and dreadful. His face was adorned with thousands of beautiful eyes. His body was incapable of being described, as also his attire. The very mountains, upon beholding him, would split into a 1,000 fragments. Blazing flames of fire seemed to issue from his mouth and nose and ears and all those thousands of eyes. From those blazing flames hundreds and thousands of Hrishikeshas issued, armed with conchs and discs and maces. "'Beholding that extraordinary being capable of inspiring the whole world with terror, Drona's son, without feeling any agitation, covered him with showers of celestial weapons. That being, however, devoured all those shafts shot by Drona's son. Like the vadava fire devouring the waters of the ocean, that being devoured the shafts sped by the son of Drona. Beholding his arrowy showers prove fruitless, Ashvatthama hurled at him a long dart blazing like a flame of fire. That dart of blazing point, striking against that being, broke into pieces like a huge meteor at the end of the yuga breaking and falling down from the firmament after striking against the Sun. Ashvatthama then, without losing a moment, drew from its sheath an excellent scimitar of the colour of the sky and endued with a golden hilt. The scimitar came out like a blazing snake from its hole. The intelligent son of Drona then hurled that excellent scimitar at that being. The weapon, approaching that being, disappeared within his body like a mongoose disappearing in its hole. Filled with rage, the son of Drona then hurled a blazing mace of the proportions of a pole set up in honour of Indra. The being devoured that mace also. "'At last, when all his weapons were exhausted Ashvatthama, casting his eyes around, beheld the whole firmament densely crowded with images of Janardana. Drona's son, divested of weapons, beholding that wonderful sight, recollected the words of Kripa, and turning pale with grief, said, "He that listens not to the beneficial words of advising friends is obliged to repent, being overwhelmed with calamity, even as my foolish self for having disregarded my two well-wishers. That fool who, disregarding the way pointed out by the scriptures, seeketh to slay his enemies, falleth off from the path of righteousness and is lost in the trackless wilderness of sin. One should not cast weapons upon kine, Brahmanas, kings, women, friends, one's own mother, one's own preceptor, a weak man, an idiot, a blind man, a sleeping man, a terrified man, one just arisen from sleep, an intoxicated person, a lunatic and one that is heedless. The preceptors of old always inculcated this truth upon men. I have, however, by disregarding the eternal way pointed out by the scriptures, and by essaying to tread in a wrong path, fallen into terrible distress. The wise have called that to be a terrible calamity when one falls back, through fear, from a great feat after having essayed to achieve it. I am unable, by putting forth only my skill and might, to achieve that which I have vowed. "'"Human exertion is never regarded more efficacious than destiny. If any human action that is commenced does not succeed through destiny, the actor becomes like one who falling off from the path of righteousness, is lost in the wilderness of sin. The sages speak of defeat as foolishness when one having commenced an act swerves from it through fear. In consequence of the wickedness of my essay, this great calamity has come upon me, otherwise Drona's son would never had been forced to hold back from battle. This being, again whom I see before me, is most wonderful! He stands there like the uplifted rod of divine chastisement. Reflecting even deeply, I cannot recognise who this being is. Without doubt, that being is the terrible fruit of this sinful determination of mine that I had essayed to achieve unrighteously. He standeth there for baffling that determination. It seems, therefore, that in my case this falling off from fight had been ordained by destiny. It is not for me to exert for the accomplishment of this my purpose unless destiny becomes favourable. I shall, therefore, at this hour, seek the protection of the puissant Mahadeva! He will dispel this dreadful rod of divine chastisement uplifted before me. I will take the shelter of that god, that source of everything beneficial, the lord of Uma, otherwise called Kapardin, decked with a garland of human skulls, that plucker of Bhaga's eyes called also Rudra and Hara. In ascetic austerities and prowess, he far surpasses all the gods. I shall, therefore, seek the protection of Girisha armed with the trident."'" 7 "Sanjaya said, 'The son of Drona, O monarch, having reflected thus, descended from the terrace of his car and stood, bending his head unto that supreme god. And he said, "I seek the protection of Him called Ugra, Sthanu, Shiva, Rudra, Sharva, Ishana, Ishvara, Girisha; and of that boon-giving god who is the Creator and Lord of the universe; of Him whose throat is blue, who is without birth, who is called Shakra, who destroyed the sacrifice of Daksha, and who is called Hara; of Him whose form is the universe, who hath three eyes, who is possessed of multifarious forms, and who is the lord of Uma; of Him who resides in crematoriums, who swells with energy, who is the lord of diverse tribes of ghostly beings, and who is the possessor of undecaying prosperity and power; of Him who wields the skull-topped club, who is called Rudra, who bears matted locks on his head, and who is a brahmacari. Purifying my soul that is so difficult to purify, and possessed as I am of small energy, I adore the Destroyer of the triple city, and offer myself as the victim. Hymned thou hast been, deserving art thou of hymns, and I hymn to thy glory! "'"Thy purposes are never baffled. Thou art robed in skins; thou hast red hair on thy head; thou art blue-throated; thou art unbearable; thou art irresistible! Thou art pure; thou art the Creator of Brahman; thou art Brahma; thou art a brahmacari; thou art an observer of vows; thou art devoted to ascetic austerities; thou art infinite; thou art the refuge of all ascetics; thou art multiform; thou art the leader of diverse tribes of ghostly beings; thou art three-eyed; thou art fond of those beings called companions; thou art always seen by the Lord of treasures; thou art dear to Gauri's heart; thou art the sire of Kumara; thou art tawny; thou hast for thy excellent bearer a bovine bull; thou art robed in a subtle attire; thou art most fierce; thou art eager to adorn Uma; thou art higher than all that is high; thou art higher than everything; there is nothing higher than thou; thou art the wielder of weapons; thou art immeasurable, and thou art the protector of all quarters; thou art cased in golden armour; thou art divine; thou hast the moon as an ornament on thy brow! With concentrated attention, I seek thy protection, O god! For success in getting over this dreadful distress that is so difficult to get over, I sacrifice unto thee, the purest of the pure, offering for thy acceptance the (five) elements of which my body is composed!" "'Knowing this to be his resolution in consequence of his desire to accomplish his object, a golden altar appeared before the high-souled son of Drona. Upon the altar, O king, appeared a blazing fire, filling all the points of the compass, cardinal and subsidiary, with its splendour. Many mighty beings also, of blazing mouths and eyes, of many feet, heads, and arms, adorned with angadas set with gems, and with uplifted arms, and looking like elephants and mountains, appeared there. Their faces resembled those of hares and boars and camels and horses and jackals and cows and bears and cats and tigers and pards and crows and apes and parrots. And the faces of some were like those of mighty snakes, and others had faces like those of ducks. And all of them were endued with great effulgence. And the faces of some were like those of woodpeckers and jays, O Bharata, and of tortoises and alligators and porpoises and huge sharks and whales, and of lions and cranes and pigeons and elephants and stags. Some had faces like those of ravens and hawks, some had ears on their hands; some had a 1,000 eyes, some had very large stomachs, and some had no flesh, O Bharata! And some, O king, had no heads, and some, O Bharata, had faces like those of bears. The eyes of some were like fire, and some had fiery complexions. The hair on the heads and bodies of some were blazing and some had four arms, and some, O king, had faces like those of sheep and goats. The colour of some was like that of conchs, and some had faces that resembled conchs, and the ears of some were like conchs, some wore garlands made of conchs, and the voices of some resembled the blare of conchs. Some had matted locks on their heads, and some had five tufts of hair, and some had heads that were bald. Some had lean stomachs; some had four teeth, some had four tongues, some had ears straight as arrows and some had diadems on their brows. Some had strings of grass on their bodies, O monarch, and some had curly hair. Some had head-gears made of cloth, some had coronets, some had beautiful faces, and some were adorned with ornaments. Some had ornaments made of lotuses, and some were decked with flowers. They numbered in hundreds and thousands. "'Some were armed with shataghnis, some with thunder, and some had mushalas in their hands. Some had bhushundis, some had nooses, and some had maces in their hands, O Bharata! On the backs of some were slung quivers containing excellent shafts, and all were fierce in battle. Some had standards with banners and bells, and some were armed with battle-axes. Some had large nooses in their uplifted arms, and some had clubs and bludgeons. Some had stout posts in their hands, some had scimitars, and some had snakes with erect heads for their diadems. Some had large snakes (wound round their upper arms) for angadas, and some had beautiful ornaments on their persons. Some were begrimed with dust, some smutted with mire, and all were attired in white robes and white garments. The limbs of some were blue, while others had limbs that were tawny. And some there were that were beardless. Those beings, called companions, possessed of golden complexions, and filled with joy, played upon drums and horns and cymbals and jharjharas and anakas and gomukhas. And some sang and some danced about uttering loud sounds, and some leapt forward and cut capers and jumped sideways. Endued with great fleetness, they ran about most fiercely, the hair on their heads waving in the air, like huge elephants infuriated with passion and frequently uttering loud roars. Terrible, and of frightful mien and armed with lances and battle-axes, they were attired in robes of diverse hues and decked with beautiful garlands and unguents. Adorned with angadas decked with gems, and with uplifted arms, they were endued with great courage. Capable of forcibly slaying all foes, they were irresistible in prowess. Drinkers of blood and fat and other animal matter, they subsisted on the flesh and entrails of animals. Some had their locks tied in tall tufts above their heads. Some had single tufts on their heads; some had rings on their ears; and some had stomachs resembling earthen vessels used for cooking. Some were of very short statures, and some were very high in stature. Some were tall and very fierce. Some had grim features, some had long lips, and the genital limbs of some were very long. Some had costly and diverse kinds of crowns upon their heads; and some had bald heads, and the heads of others were covered with matted locks. "'They were capable of bringing down the firmament with the sun, moon, and stars, on earth, and exterminating the four orders of created things. They know not what it is to fear, and are capable of enduring the frowns of Hara. They always act as they like, and are the lords of the lords of the three worlds. Always engaged in merry sports, they are thorough masters of speech and are perfectly free from pride. Having obtained the eight kinds of divine attributes, they are never elated with pride. The divine Hara is always filled with wonder at their feats. They are devout worshippers of Mahadeva. Adored by them in thought, word, and deed, the great god protects those worshippers of his, looking upon them, in thought, word, and deed as children of his own loins. Filled with rage, they always drink the blood and fat of all haters of Brahma. They always drink also the soma juice endued with four kinds of taste. Having adored the trident-bearing god with Vedic recitations, with brahmacarya, with austerities, and with self-restraint, they have obtained the companionship of Bhava. The divine Maheshvara, that lord of the past, the present, and the future as also Parvati, eat with those diverse tribes of mighty beings that partake of their own nature. "'Causing the universe to resound with the peal of diverse kinds of instruments, with noise of laughter, with loud sounds and shrieks and leonine roar, they approached Ashvatthama. Uttering the praises of Mahadeva and spreading an effulgent light all around, desirous of enhancing the honour of Ashvatthama and the glory of the high-souled Hara, and wishing to ascertain the extent of Ashvatthama's energy, and desirous also of beholding the slaughter during the hour of sleep, armed with terrible and fierce bludgeons and fiery wheels and battle-axes, that crowd of strange beings, endued with terrible forms, came from every side. They were capable of inspiring the three worlds with dread at their sight. The mighty Ashvatthama, however, beholding them, felt no fear. Drona's son, armed with bow, and with fingers cased in fences made of iguana skins, himself offered up his own self as a victim unto Mahadeva. Bows were the fuel, and sharp shafts were the ladles, and his own soul possessed of great might was the libation, O Bharata, in that act of sacrifice. The valiant and wrathful son of Drona then, with propitiating mantras, offered up his own soul as the victim. Having with fierce rites adored Rudra of fierce deeds, Ashvatthama with joined hands, said these words unto that high-souled god. "'Ashvatthama said, "Sprung from Angirasa's line, I am about to pour my soul, O god, as a libation on this fire! Accept, O lord, this victim! In this hour of distress, O Soul of the universe, I offer up my own self as the sacrificial victim, from devotion to thee and with heart concentrated in meditation! All creatures are in thee and thou art in all creatures! Assemblage of all high attributes occur in thee! O lord, O thou art the refuge of all creatures. I wait as a libation for thee, since I am unable to vanquish my foes. Accept me, O god." Having said these words, Drona's son, ascending that sacrificial altar on which a fire blazed brightly, offered himself up as the victim and entered that blazing fire. "'Beholding him stand immovable and with uplifted hands and as an offering up to himself, the divine Mahadeva appeared in person and smilingly said, "With truth, purity, sincerity, resignation, ascetic austerities, vows, forgiveness, devotion, patience, thought, and word, I have been duly adored by Krishna of pure deeds. For this there is none dearer to me than Krishna. For honouring him and at his word I have protected the Pancalas and displayed diverse kinds of illusion. By protecting the Pancalas I have honoured him. They have, however, been afflicted by time. The period of their lives hath run out." "'Having said these words unto the high-souled Ashvatthama, the divine Mahadeva entered Ashvatthama's body after giving him an excellent and polished sword. Filled by that divine being, Drona's son blazed up with energy. In consequence of that energy derived from godhead, he became all-powerful in battle. Many invisible beings and Rakshasas proceeded along his right and his left as he set out, like the lord Mahadeva himself, for entering the camp of his foes.'" 8 "Dhritarashtra said, 'While Drona's son, that mighty car-warrior, thus proceeded towards the hostile camp, did Kripa and Bhoja stop from fear? I hope those two car-warriors checked by vulgar guards, did not fly away secretly, thinking their opponents irresistible? Or, have they, after grinding the camp, the Somakas, and the Pandavas, followed, while still engaged in battle, the highly glorious path in which Duryodhana has gone? Are those heroes, slain by the Pancalas, sleeping on the bare Earth? Did they achieve any feat? Tell me all this, O Sanjaya!' "Sanjaya said, 'When the high-souled son of Drona proceeded towards the camp, Kripa and Kritavarma waited at the gate. Beholding them ready to exert themselves, Ashvatthama became filled with joy, and addressing them whisperingly, O king, said, "If you two exert, you are competent to exterminate all the Kshatriyas! What need I say, therefore, of this remnant of the (Pandava) army, particularly when it is buried in sleep? I shall enter the camp and career like Yama. I am sure that you two will act in such way that no man may escape you with life." "'Having said these words, the son of Drona entered the vast camp of the Parthas; casting off all fear, he penetrated into it by a spot where there was no door. The mighty-armed hero, having entered the camp, proceeded, guided by signs, very softly, towards the quarters of Dhrishtadyumna. The Pancalas, having achieved great feats, had been much tired in battle. They were sleeping in confidence, assembled together, and by the side of one another. Entering into Dhrishtadyumna's chamber, O Bharata, Drona's son beheld the prince of the Pancalas sleeping before him on his bed. He lay on a beautiful sheet of silk upon a costly and excellent bed. Excellent wreaths of flowers were strewn upon that bed and it was perfumed with powdered dhupa. Ashvatthama, O king, awoke with a kick the high-souled prince sleeping trustfully and fearlessly on his bed. Feeling that kick, the prince, irresistible in battle and of immeasurable soul, awaked from sleep and recognised Drona's son standing before him. As he was rising from his bed, the mighty Ashvatthama seized him by the hair of his head and began to press him down on the earth with his hands. Thus pressed by Ashvatthama with great strength, the prince, from fear as also from sleepiness, was not able to put forth his strength at that time. Striking him with his foot, O king, on both his throat and breast while his victim writhed and roared, Drona's son endeavoured to kill him as if he were an animal. The Pancala prince tore Ashvatthama with his nails and at last softly said, "O preceptor's son, slay me with a weapon, do not tarry! O best of men, let me, through thy act, repair to the regions of the righteous!" "'Having said this much, that slayer of foes, the son of the Pancala king, assailed with strength by that mighty hero, became silent. Hearing those indistinct sounds of his, Drona's son said, "O wretch of thy race, there is no region for those that slay their preceptors. For this, O thou of wicked understanding, thou deservest not to be slain with any weapon!" While saying so, Ashvatthama, filled with rage, began to strike the vital parts of his victim with violent kicks of his heels, and slew his foe like a lion slaying an infuriated elephant. At the cries of that hero while he was being slain, his wives and guards that were in his tent all awake, O king! Beholding somebody crushing the prince with superhuman force, they regarded the assailant to be some preternatural being and, therefore, uttered no cries from fear. Having despatched him to Yama's abode by such means, Ashvatthama of great energy went out and getting upon his beautiful car stayed on it. Indeed, coming out of Dhrishtadyumna's abode, O king, Ashvatthama caused all the points of the compass to resound with his roars, and then proceeded on his car to other parts of the camp for slaying his foes. "'After Drona's son, that mighty car-warrior, had gone away, the women and all the guards set up a loud wail of woe. Seeing their king slain, all the wives of Dhrishtadyumna, filled with great sorrow, cried. At that wail of theirs many mighty Kshatriyas, awaking, put on their armour and came there for enquiring after the cause of those cries. Those ladies, terrified at the sight of Ashvatthama, in piteous tones asked the men to pursue him without delay. They said, "Whether he is a Rakshasa or a human being, we know not what he is! Having slain the Pancala king, he stayeth there!" At these words, those foremost of warriors suddenly surrounded Drona's son. The latter slew them all by means of the rudrastra. Having slain Dhrishtadyumna and all those followers of his, he beheld Uttamauja sleeping on his bed. Attacking him with his foot on the throat and chest, Drona's son slew that great hero also while the latter writhed in agony. Yudhamanyu, coming up and believing his comrade to have been slain by a Rakshasa, speedily struck Drona's son in the chest with a mace. Rushing towards him, Ashvatthama seized him and brought him down to the ground and slew him like an animal while the latter uttered loud shrieks. "'Having slain Yudhamanyu thus, that hero proceeded against the other car-warriors of the king, who were all asleep. He slew all those trembling and shrieking warriors like animals in a sacrifice. Taking up his sword then, he slew many others. Proceeding along the diverse paths of the camp, one after another, Ashvatthama, accomplished in the use of the sword, beheld diverse gulmas and slew in a trice the unarmed and tired warriors sleeping within them. With that excellent sword he cut off combatants and steeds and elephants. Covered all over with blood, he seemed then to be Death himself commissioned by time. Causing his foes to tremble by the repeated blows of his sword that were of three kinds, Ashvatthama became bathed in blood. Covered as he was with blood, and wielding as he did a blazing sword, his form, as he careered in battle, became exceedingly terrible and superhuman. Those who awaked from sleep, O Kaurava, became stupefied with the loud noise (they heard around). Beholding Drona's son, they looked at each other's faces and trembled (with fear). Those Kshatriyas, beholding the form of that crusher of foes, believed him to be a Rakshasa and closed their eyes. "'Of terrible form, he careered in the camp like Yama himself, and at last saw the sons of Draupadi and the remnant of the Somakas. Alarmed by the noise, and learning that Dhrishtadyumna had been slain, those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Draupadi, armed with bows, fearlessly poured their shafts on Drona's son. Awakened by their noise, the Prabhadrakas with Shikhandi at their head, began to grind the son of Drona with their arrows. Drona's son, beholding them shower their arrows on him, uttered a loud roar and became desirous of slaying those mighty car-warriors. Recollecting the death of his sire, Ashvatthama became filled with rage. Alighting from the terrace of his car, he rushed furiously (against his enemies). Taking up his bright shield with a 1,000 moons and his massive and celestial sword decked with gold, the mighty Ashvatthama rushed against the sons of Draupadi and began to lay about him with his weapon. Then that tiger among men, in that dreadful battle, struck Prativindhya in the abdomen, at which the latter, O king, deprived of life, fell down on the Earth. The valiant Sutasoma, having pierced the son of Drona with a lance, rushed at him with his uplifted sword. Ashvatthama, however cut off Sutasoma's arm with the sword in grasp, and once more struck him in the flank. At this, Sutasoma fell down, bereft of life. The valiant Shatanika, the son of Nakula, taking up a car-wheel with his two hands, violently struck Ashvatthama at the chest. The regenerate Ashvatthama violently assailed Shatanika after he had hurled that car-wheel. Exceedingly agitated, Nakula's son fell down upon the Earth, upon which Drona's son cut off his head. Then Shrutakarma, taking up a spiked bludgeon, attacked Ashvatthama. Furiously rushing at Drona's son, he assailed him violently on the left part of his forehead. Ashvatthama struck Shrutakarma with his excellent sword on the face. Deprived of senses and his face disfigured, he fell down lifeless on the Earth. At this noise, the heroic Shrutakirti, that great car-warrior, coming up, poured showers of arrows on Ashvatthama. Baffling those arrowy showers with his shield, Ashvatthama cut off from the enemy's trunk the latter's beautiful head adorned with ear-rings. Then the slayer of Bhishma, the mighty Shikhandi, with all the Prabhadrakas, assailed the hero from every side with diverse kinds of weapons. Shikhandi struck Ashvatthama with an arrow in the midst of his two eyebrows. Filled with rage at this, Drona's son, possessed of great might, approached Shikhandi and cut him into twain with his sword. Having slain Shikhandi, Ashvatthama, filled with rage, rushed furiously against the other Prabhadrakas. He proceeded also against the remnant of Virata's force. "'Endued with great strength, Drona's son made a heavy carnage amongst the sons, the grandsons, and the followers of Drupada, singling them out one after another. Accomplished in the use of the sword, Ashvatthama then, rushing against other combatants, cut them down with his excellent sword. The warriors in the Pandava camp beheld that Death-Night in her embodied form, a black image, of bloody mouth and bloody eyes, wearing crimson garlands and smeared with crimson unguents, attired in a single piece of red cloth, with a noose in hand, and resembling an elderly lady, employed in chanting a dismal note and standing full before their eyes, and about to lead away men and steeds and elephants all tied in a stout cord. She seemed to take away diverse kinds of spirits, with dishevelled hair and tied together in a cord, as also, O king, many mighty car-warriors divested of their weapons. On other days, O sire, the foremost warriors of the Pandava camp used to see in their dreams that figure leading away the sleeping combatants and Drona's son smiting them behind! The Pandava soldiers saw that lady and Drona's son in their dreams every night from the day when the battle between the Kurus and the Pandavas first commenced. Afflicted before by Destiny, they were now smitten by Drona's son who terrified them all with the frightful roars uttered by him. Afflicted by Destiny, the brave warriors of the Pandava camp, recollecting the sight they had seen in their dreams, identified it with what they now witnessed. "'At the noise made, hundreds and thousands of Pandava bowmen in the camp awoke from their slumbers. Ashvatthama cut off the legs of some, and the hips of others, and pierced some in their flanks, careering like the Destroyer himself let loose by Time. The Earth, O lord, was soon covered with human beings that were crushed into shapelessness or trodden down by elephants and steeds and with others that roared in great affliction. Many of them loudly exclaimed, "What is this?" "Who is this one?" "What is this noise?" "Who is doing what?" While uttering such shrieks, Drona's son became their Destroyer. That foremost of smiters, the son of Drona, despatched to regions of Yama all those Pandus and Srinjayas who were without armour and weapons. Terrified at that noise, many awoke from sleep. Possessed with fear, blinded by sleep, and deprived of their senses, those warriors seemed to vanish (before the fury of Ashvatthama). The thighs of many were paralysed and many were so stupefied that they lost all their energy. Shrieking and possessed with fear, they began to slay one another. Drona's son once more got upon his car of terrible clatter and taking up his bow despatched many with his shafts to Yama's abode. Others awoke from sleep, brave warriors and foremost of men, as they came towards Ashvatthama, were slain before they could approach him and were thus offered up as victims unto that Death-Night. Crushing many with that foremost of cars, he careered through the camp, and covered his foes with repeated showers of arrows. Once again with that beautiful shield of his, adorned with hundred moons, and with that sword of his which was of the hue of the welkin, he careered amidst his enemies. Like an elephant agitating a large lake, Drona's son, irresistible in battle, agitated the camp of the Pandavas. "'Awaked by the noise, O king, many warriors, afflicted still with sleep and fear, and with senses still under a cloud, ran hither and thither. Many shrieked in harsh tones and many uttered incoherent exclamations. Many succeeded not in obtaining their weapons and armour. The locks of many were dishevelled, and many failed to recognise one another. Having risen from sleep, many fell down, fatigued; some wandered here and there without any purpose. Elephants and steeds, breaking their cords, passed excreta and urine. Many, causing great confusion, huddled together. Amongst these, some through fear laid themselves down on the earth. The animals of the camp crushed them there. "'While the camp was in this state, Rakshasas, O king, uttered loud roars in joy, O chief of the Bharatas! The loud noise, O king, uttered by ghostly beings in joy, filled all the points of the compass and the welkin. Hearing the wails of woe, elephants, steeds, breaking their cords, rushed hither and thither, crushing the combatants in the camp. As those animals rushed hither and thither, the dust raised by them made the night doubly dark. When that thick gloom set in, the warriors in the camp became perfectly stupefied; sires recognised not their sons, brothers recognised not their brothers. Elephants assailing riderless elephants, and steeds assailing riderless steeds, assailed and broke and crushed the people that stood in their way. Losing all order, combatants rushed and slew one another, and felling those that stood in their way, crushed them into pieces. Deprived of their senses and overcome with sleep, and enveloped in gloom, men, impelled by fate, slew their own comrades. The guards, leaving the gates they watched, and those at duty at the outposts leaving the posts they guarded, fled away for their lives, deprived of their senses and not knowing whither they proceeded. They slew one another, the slayers, O lord, not recognising the slain. Afflicted by Fate, they cried after their sires and sons. While they fled, abandoning their friends and relatives, they called upon one another, mentioning their families and names. Other, uttering cries of "Oh!" and "Alas!" fell down on the earth. In the midst of the battle, Drona's son, recognising them, slew them all. "'Other Kshatriyas, while being slaughtered, lost their senses, and afflicted by fear, sought to fly away from their camps. Those men that sought to fly away from their camp for saving their lives, were slain by Kritavarma and Kripa at the gate. Divested of weapons and instruments and armour, and with dishevelled hair, they joined their hands. Trembling with fear, they were on the ground. The two Kuru warriors, however, (who were on their cars) gave quarter to none. None amongst those that escaped from the camp was let off by those two wicked persons, Kripa and Kritavarma. Then again, for doing that which was highly agreeable to Drona's son, those two set fire to the Pandava camp in three places. "'When the camp was lighted, Ashvatthama, that delighter of his sires, O monarch, careered, sword in hand and smiting his foes with great skill. Some of his brave foes rushed towards him and some ran hither and thither. That foremost of regenerate ones, with his sword, deprived all of them of their lives. The valiant son of Drona, filled with rage, felled some of the warriors, cutting them in twain with his sword as if they were sesame stalks. The Earth, O bull of Bharata's race, became strewn with the fallen bodies of the foremost of men and steeds and elephants mingled together and uttering woeful wails and cries. When thousands of men had fallen down deprived of life, innumerable headless trunks stood up and fell down. Ashvatthama, O Bharata, cut off arms adorned with angadas and holding weapons in grasp, and heads, and thighs resembling trunks of elephants, and hands, and feet. The illustrious son of Drona mangled the backs of some, cut off the heads of some, and caused some to turn away from the fight. And he cut off some at the middle, and lopped off the ears of others, and struck others on the shoulders, and pressed down the heads of some into their trunks. "'As Ashvatthama careered in this way, slaughtering thousands of men, the deep night became more terrible in consequence of the darkness that set in. The earth became terrible to behold, strewn with thousands of human beings dead and dying and innumerable steeds and elephants. Cut off by the enraged son of Drona, his foes fell down on the earth that was then crowded with Yakshas and Rakshasas, and frightful with (broken) cars and slain steeds and elephants. Some called upon their brothers, some upon their sires, and some upon their sons. And some said, "The Dhartarashtras in rage could never accomplish such feats in battle as these which Rakshasas of wicked deeds are achieving (upon us) during the hour of sleep! It is only in consequence of the absence of the Parthas that this great slaughter is going on. That son of Kunti, who hath Janardana for his protector, is incapable of being vanquished by gods, Asuras, Gandharvas, Yakshas and Rakshasas! Devoted to Brahma, truthful in speech, self-restrained, and compassionate towards all creatures, that son of Pritha, called Dhananjaya, never slaughters one that is asleep, or one that is heedless, or one that has laid aside his weapons or one that has joined his hands in supplication, or one that is retreating, or one whose locks have been dishevelled. Alas, they are Rakshasas of wicked deeds who are perpetrating such terrible act upon us." Uttering such words, many laid themselves down. "'The loud din caused by the cries and groans of human beings died away within a short space of time. The earth being drenched with blood, O king, that thick and frightful dust soon disappeared. Thousands of men moving in agony, overwhelmed with anxiety and overcome with despair, were slain by Ashvatthama like Rudra slaying living creatures. Many who laid themselves down on the ground clasping one another, and many who sought to fly away, and many who sought to hide themselves, and many who struggled in battle, were all slain by the son of Drona. Burnt by the raging flames and slaughtered by Ashvatthama, the men, losing their senses, slew one another. Before half the night was over, the son of Drona, O monarch, despatched the large host of the Pandavas unto Yama's abode. "'That night, so terrible and destructive unto human beings and elephants and steeds filled with joy all creatures that wander in the dark. Many Rakshasas and Pishacas of various tribes were seen there, gorging upon human flesh and quaffing the blood that lay on the ground. They were fierce, tawny in hue, terrible, of adamantine teeth, and dyed with blood. With matted locks on their heads, their thighs were long and massive; endued with five feet, their stomachs were large. Their fingers were set backwards. Of harsh temper and ugly features, their voice was loud and terrible. They had rows of tinkling bells tied to their bodies. Possessed of blue throats, they looked very frightful. Exceedingly cruel and incapable of being looked at without fear, and without abhorrence for anything, they came there with their children and wives. Indeed, diverse were the forms seen there of the Rakshasas that came. Quaffing the blood that ran in streams, they became filled with joy and began to dance in separate bands. "This is excellent!" "This is pure!" "This is very sweet!" these were the words they uttered. "'Other carnivorous creatures, subsisting upon animal food, having gorged upon fat and marrow and bones and blood, began to eat the delicate parts of corpses. Others, drinking the fat that flowed in streams, ran naked over the field. Possessed of diverse kinds of faces, other carnivorous beings of great ferocity, and living upon dead flesh, came there in tens of thousands and millions. Grim and gigantic Rakshasas also, of wicked deeds, came there in bands as numerous. Other ghostly beings, filled with joy and gorged to satiety, O king, also came there and were seen in the midst of that dreadful carnage. "'When morning dawned, Ashvatthama desired to leave the camp. He was then bathed in human blood and the hilt of his sword so firmly adhered in his grasp that his hand and sword, O king, became one! Having walked in that path that is never trod (by good warriors), Ashvatthama, after that slaughter, looked like the blazing fire at the end of the yuga after it has consumed all creatures into ashes. Having perpetrated that feat agreeably to his vow, and having trod in that untrodden way, Drona's son, O lord, forgot his grief for the slaughter of his sire. The Pandava camp, in consequence of the sleep in which all within it were buried, was perfectly still when Drona's son had entered it in the night. "'After the nocturnal slaughter, when all became once more quiet, Ashvatthama issued from it. Having issued from the camp, the valiant Ashvatthama met his two companions and, filled with joy, told them of his feat, gladdening them, O king, by the intelligence. Those two, in return, devoted as they were to his good, gave him the agreeable intelligence of how they also had slaughtered thousands of Pancalas and Srinjayas (at the gates). Even thus did that night prove terribly destructive to the Somakas who had been heedless and buried in sleep. The course of time, without doubt, is irresistible. Those who had exterminated us were themselves exterminated now.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'Why is it that that mighty car-warrior, the son of Drona, did not achieve such a feat before although he had resolutely exerted himself for bestowing victory upon Duryodhana? For what reason did that great bowman do this after the slaughter of the wretched Duryodhana? It behoveth thee to tell me this!' "Sanjaya said, 'Through fear of the Parthas, O son of Kuru's race, Ashvatthama could not achieve such a feat then. It was owing to the absence of the Parthas and the intelligent Keshava as also of Satyaki, that Drona's son could accomplish it. Who is there, the lord Indra unexcepted, that is competent to slay them in the presence of these heroes? Besides, O king, Ashvatthama succeeded in accomplishing the feat only because the men were all asleep. Having caused that vast slaughter of the Pandava forces, those three great car-warriors (Ashvatthama, Kripa and Kritavarma), meeting together, exclaimed, "Good luck!" His two companions congratulated Ashvatthama, and the latter was also embraced by them. In great joy the latter uttered these words: "All the Pancalas have been slain, as also all the sons of Draupadi! All the Somakas also, as well as all that remained of the Matsyas, have been slaughtered by me! Crowned with success, let us without delay go there where the king is! If the king be still alive, we will give him this joyful intelligence!"'" 9 "Sanjaya said, 'Having slain all the Pancalas and the sons of Draupadi, the three Kuru heroes together came to that spot where Duryodhana lay, struck down by the foe. Arrived there, they beheld that life had not been wholly extinct in the king. Jumping down from their cars, they surrounded thy son. The Kuru king, O monarch, was lying there with broken thighs. Almost senseless, his life was about to ebb away. He was vomiting blood at intervals, with downcast eyes. He was then surrounded by a large number of carnivorous animals of terrible forms, and by wolves and hyenas, that awaited at no great distance for feeding upon his body. With great difficulty the king was keeping off those beasts of prey that stood in expectation of feasting upon him. He was writhing on the earth in great agony. Beholding him thus lying on the earth, bathed in his own blood, the three heroes who were the sole survivors of his army, Ashvatthama and Kripa and Kritavarma, became afflicted with grief and sat surrounding him. Encompassed by those three mighty car-warriors who were covered with blood and who breathed hot sighs, the Kuru king looked like a sacrificial altar surrounded by three fires. Beholding the king lying in that highly undeserving plight, the three heroes wept in unendurable sorrow. Wiping the blood from off his face with their hands, they uttered these piteous lamentations in the hearing of the king lying on the field of battle. "'Kripa said, "There is nothing too difficult for destiny to bring about, since even this king Duryodhana who was the lord of eleven Akshauhinis of troops sleepeth on the bare ground, struck down by the foes and covered with blood! Behold, fond he was of the mace, and that mace decked with pure gold still lieth by the side of the king whose splendour still resembles that of pure gold! In no battle did that mace abandon this hero! Even now, when he is about to ascend to heaven, that weapon leaveth not this illustrious warrior. Behold, that weapon, adorned with pure gold, still lieth by the side of this hero like a loving wife by the side of her lord stretched on his bed in his chamber of sleep. Behold the reverses brought about by Time! This scorcher of foes that used to walk at the head of all crowned kings, now eateth the dust struck down (by the foe)! He who had formerly struck down many foes and caused them to lie on the bare ground, alas, that king of the Kurus lieth today on the bare ground, struck down by foes. He to whom hundreds of kings used to bow down in fear, lieth today on the field of battle, surrounded by beasts of prey. The Brahmanas formerly used to wait upon this lord for wealth. Alas, beasts of prey wait upon him today for feeding upon his body!"' "Sanjaya continued, 'Beholding that chief of Kuru's race lying on the ground, Ashvatthama, O best of the Bharatas, uttered these piteous lamentations: "O tiger among kings, all people indicated thee as the foremost of all bowmen! People also said that (in encounters with the mace) thou, a disciple of Sankarshana, wert like the Lord of treasures (Kuvera), himself! How then, O sinless one, could Bhima notice any lapses in thee! Thou wert ever mighty and possessed of skill! He, on the other hand, O king, is a wicked-souled wight! Without doubt, O monarch, Time in this world is mightier than everything else, for we behold even thee struck down by Bhimasena in battle! Alas, how could the wretched and mean Vrikodara unrighteously strike thee down, thee that wert conversant with every rule of righteousness! Without doubt, Time is irresistible. Alas, having summoned thee to a fair fight, Bhimasena, putting forth his might, fractured thy thighs. Fie on that wretched Yudhishthira who tolerated the head of one unrighteously struck down in battle to be touched with the foot! In all battles warriors will certainly reprove Vrikodara as long as the world will last. Without doubt, thou hast been struck down unrighteously! "'"The valiant Rama of Yadu's race, O king, always used to say that there is no one equal to Duryodhana in encounters with the mace. He of the Vrishni race, O Bharata, used to boast of thee, O lord, in every assembly, saying, Duryodhana of Kurus race is a worthy disciple of mine!' Thou hast obtained that end which great Rishis have declared to be the high reward of a Kshatriya slain in battle with his face towards the foe. I do not, O bull among men, grieve for thee, O Duryodhana! I grieve only for thy mother Gandhari and thy sire, childless as they now are. Afflicted with sorrow, they will have to wander over the earth, begging their food. Fie on Krishna, Vrishni's race, and on Arjuna of wicked understanding! They regard themselves conversant with the duties of morality, yet both of them stood indifferent whilst thou wert being slain! How will the other Pandavas, shameless though they are, O king, speak of the manner in which they have accomplished thy death? Thou art highly fortunate, O son of Gandhari, since thou hast been slain on the field of battle, O bull among men, while advancing fairly against the foe. Alas, what will be the plight of Gandhari who is now childless, and who hath lost all her kinsmen and relatives! What also will be the plight of the blind king! "'"Fie on Kritavarma, on myself, as also on mighty car-warrior Kripa, since we have not yet gone to heaven with thy royal self before us! Fie on us, lowest of mortals, since we do not follow thee that wert the granter of all wishes, the protector of all men, and the benefactor of all thy subjects! Through thy power, the abodes of Kripa, of myself, and of my sire, along with those of our dependants, O tiger among men, are full of wealth. Through thy grace, ourselves with our friends and relatives have performed many foremost of sacrifices with a profusion of presents to Brahmanas. Where shall such sinful persons as ourselves now go, since thou hast gone to heaven, taking with thee all the kings of the earth? Since we three, O king, do not follow thee that art about to obtain the highest end (of life), it is for this that we are indulging in such lamentations. Deprived of thy companionship, reft of wealth, our memories painfully dwelling upon thy prosperity, alas, what will be our lot since we do not go with thee? Without doubt, O chief of Kuru's race, we shall have to wander in grief on the earth. Deprived of thee, O king, where can we have peace and where can we have happiness? "'"Going from this world, O monarch, and meeting with those mighty car-warriors (that have preceded thee), show thy regards to them, at my request, one after another, according to the order of their rank and years. Having offered worship to thy preceptor, that foremost of all wielders of bows, tell him, O king, that Dhrishtadyumna hath been slain by me. Embrace king Bahlika, that mighty car-warrior, as also the ruler of the Sindhus, and Somadatta, Bhurishrava, and the other foremost of kings that have preceded thee to heaven. At my request, embrace all of them and enquire after their welfare."' "Sanjaya continued, 'Having said these words unto the king deprived of his senses and lying with broken thighs, Ashvatthama once more cast his eyes on him and uttered these words, "If, O Duryodhana, thou hast any life in thee still, listen to these words that are so pleasant to hear. On the side of the Pandavas, only seven are alive, and among the Dhartarashtras, only we three! The seven on their side are the five brothers and Vasudeva and Satyaki; on our side, we three are myself and Kripa and Kritavarma! All the sons of Draupadi have been slain, as also all the children of Dhrishtadyumna! All the Pancalas too have been slain, as also the remnant of the Matsyas, O Bharata! Behold the vengeance taken for what they had done! The Pandavas are now childless! While buried in sleep, the men and animals in their camp have all been slain! Penetrating into their camp in the night, O king, I have slain Dhrishtadyumna, that wight of sinful deeds, as one kills an animal." "'Duryodhana then, having heard those words that were so agreeable to his heart, regained his senses and said these words in reply, "That which neither Ganga's son, nor Karna, nor thy sire, could achieve, hath at last been achieved by thee today, accompanied by Kripa and Bhoja. Thou hast slain that low wretch (Dhrishtadyumna) who was commander of the Pandava forces, as also Shikhandi. In consequence of this I regard myself equal to Maghavat himself! Good be to you all! Let prosperity be yours! All of us will again meet together in heaven!" "'Having said these words the high-souled king of the Kurus became silent. Casting off his griefs for all his (slain) kinsmen, he then gave up his life-breath. His soul ascended to sacred heaven, while his body only remained on earth. Even thus, O king, thy son Duryodhana breathed his last. Having provoked the battle first, he was slain by his foes at last. The three heroes repeatedly embraced the king and gazed steadfastly on him. They then ascended their cars. Having heard these piteous lamentations of Drona's son, I came away at early dawn towards the city. Even thus the armies of the Kurus and Pandavas have been destroyed. Great and terrible have been that carnage, O king, caused by thy evil policy. After thy son had ascended to heaven, I became afflicted with grief and the spiritual sight which the rishi gave hath been lost by me!'" Vaishampayana continued, "The king, hearing of his son's death, breathed long and hot sighs, and became plunged in great anxiety." 10 Vaishampayana said, "After that night had gone away, the driver of Dhrishtadyumna's car gave intelligence to king Yudhishthira of the great slaughter that had been caused during the hour of sleep. "The driver said, 'The sons of Draupadi, O king, have been slain, with all the children of Drupada himself, while they were heedless and trustfully asleep in their own camp! During the night, O king, thy camp has been exterminated by the cruel Kritavarma, and Kripa, the son of Gautama, and the sinful Ashvatthama! Slaying thousands of men and elephants and steeds with lances and darts and battle-axes, those men have exterminated thy army. While thy army was being slaughtered like a forest cut down with axes, a loud wail was heard rising from thy camp. I am the sole survivor, O monarch, of that vast force. I have, O thou of virtuous soul, escaped with difficulty from Kritavarma at a time when he was heedless!' "Hearing these evil tidings, Kunti's son Yudhishthira, however, capable of bearing up (against foes), fell down on the earth, afflicted with grief at the loss of his sons. Advancing forward, Satyaki held the king in his embrace. Bhimasena and Arjuna and the two sons of Madri also stretched forth their arms. Having recovered his senses, the son of Kunti lamented in great affliction, uttering these words rendered indistinct by sorrow: 'Alas, having vanquished the foe, we have ourselves been vanquished in the end! The course of events is difficult to be ascertained even by persons endued with spiritual sight. The foes, who were vanquished have become victorious! Ourselves, again, while victorious, are vanquished! Having slain brothers and friends and sires and sons and well-wishers, and kinsmen, and counsellors, and having vanquished them all, we ourselves are vanquished at last! Misery looks like prosperity and prosperity looks like misery! This our victory has assumed the shape of defeat. Our victory, therefore, has ended in defeat! Having won the victory, I am obliged to grieve as an afflicted wretch. How, then, can I regard it as a victory? In reality, I have been doubly defeated by the foe. They for whose sake we have incurred the sin of victory by slaying our kinsmen and friends, alas, they, after victory had crowned them, have been vanquished by defeated foes that were heedful! "'Alas, through heedlessness have they been slain that had escaped from even Karna, that warrior who had barbed arrows and Nalikas for his teeth, the sword for his tongue, the bow for his gaping mouth, and the twang of the bowstring and the sound of palms for his roars--that angry Karna who never retreated from battle, and who was a very lion among men! Alas, those princes that succeeded in crossing, by boats constituted by their own excellent weapons, the great Drona-ocean having cars for its deep lakes, showers of arrows for its waves, the ornaments of warriors for its gems, car-steeds for its animals, darts and swords for its fishes, elephants for its alligators, bows for its whirlpools, mighty weapons for its foam, and the signal of battle for its moonrise causing it to swell with energy, and the twang of the bowstring and the sound of palms for its roar,--alas, even those princes have from heedlessness been slain! "'There is, in this world, no more powerful cause of death, as regards men, than heedlessness! Prosperity abandons a heedless man from every side, and every kind of misery overtakes him. The tall standard with excellent top that stood on his car was the wreath of smoke that infallibly indicated the Bhishma-fire. Shafts constituted its flames, and wrath was the wind that fanned it! The twang of his formidable bow and the sound of his palms constituted the roar of that fire. Armour and diverse kinds of weapons were the homa libations that were poured into it. The vast hostile army was the heap of dry forest-grass that was assailed by that fire. Alas, even they that had endured that fierce fire whose terrible energy was represented by the mighty weapons in Bhishma's hand have at last fallen through heedlessness. "'A heedless person can never acquire knowledge, asceticism, prosperity, or great renown. Behold, Indra has obtained great happiness after slaying all his foes heedfully. Behold the survivors among our foes have, through our heedlessness, slain so many sons and grandsons of kings, each of whom was really like Indra himself. Alas, they have perished like merchants with rich freight perishing through carelessness in a shallow stream after having crossed the great ocean. They whose bodies are now lying on the bare ground, slain by those vindictive wretches, have without doubt ascended to heaven. "'I grieve, however, for the princess Krishna. Alas, she will be plunged today in an ocean of grief. Hearing of the slaughter of her brothers and sons and her venerable sire, the king of the Pancalas, without doubt she will fall down senseless on the earth. Her body emaciated by grief, she will not rise again. Unable to bear the grief resulting from such affliction, and worthy as she is of happiness, alas, what will be her plight? Cut to the quick by the slaughter of her sons and brothers, she will be like one scorched by fire.' Having in deep affliction indulged in these lamentations, that king of Kuru's race then addressed Nakula, saying, 'Go and bring the unfortunate princess Draupadi here along with all her maternal relations.' Obediently accepting that command of the king who equalled Yama himself in righteousness, Nakula speedily proceeded on his car to the quarters of Draupadi where that princess resided with all the wives of the Pancala king. Having despatched the son of Madri, Yudhishthira, crushed by grief, proceeded with tears in his eyes accompanied by those friends of his, to the field on which his sons had battled and which still teemed with diverse kinds of creatures. Having entered that cursed field abounding with fierce sights, the king saw his sons, well-wishers, and friends, all lying on the ground, covered with blood, their bodies mangled, and heads separated from their trunks. Beholding them in that plight, Yudhishthira, that foremost of righteous men, became deeply afflicted. That chief of the Kurus then began to weep aloud and fell down on the earth, deprived of his senses, along with all his followers." 11 Vaishampayana said, "Beholding his sons, grandsons, and friends all slain in battle, the king's soul became overwhelmed with great grief, O Janamejaya! Recollecting those sons and grandsons and brothers and allies, a deep sorrow took possession of the illustrious monarch. Senseless and trembling, his eyes were bathed in tears. His friends then, themselves filled with anxiety, began to comfort him. "At that time, Nakula, skilled in executing errands, arrived there on his car of solar effulgence, accompanied by the princess Krishna in great affliction. She had been residing at Upaplavya. Having received that heartrending intelligence about the slaughter of all her sons, she became exceedingly agitated. Trembling like a plantain tree shaken by the wind, the princess Krishna, arrived at the presence of Yudhishthira, fell down, afflicted by grief. Her face, adorned with eyes resembling a couple of full-blown lotuses, seemed to be darkened by grief like the Sun himself when enveloped in darkness. "Beholding her prostrate on the earth, the wrathful Vrikodara, of prowess incapable of being baffled, advancing hastily, raised her up and clasped her with his arms. The beautiful lady, comforted by Bhimasena, began to weep, and addressing the eldest son of Pandu with his brothers, said, 'By good luck, O monarch, having obtained the whole earth, thou shalt enjoy her after the slaughter of thy brave sons in the observance of Kshatriya duties. By good luck, O son of Pritha, thou art happy at the thought of having obtained the whole earth. By good luck, thy thoughts do not dwell on Subhadra's son whose tread resembled that of an infuriated elephant. By good luck, thou dost not, like myself while residing at Upaplavya, recollect thy heroic sons slaughtered in the observance of Kshatriya duties. O son of Pritha, hearing of the slaughter of those sleeping heroes by Drona's son of sinful deeds, grief burns me as if I were in the midst of a fire. If Drona's son be not made to reap the fruit of that sinful deed of his, if, putting forth your prowess in battle, thou dost not take the life of that wretch of sinful deeds, along with the lives of all his followers, then listen to me, ye Pandavas, I shall sit here in praya!' "Having said these words, the helpless Krishna, the daughter of Yajnasena, sat by the side of the eldest son of Pandu, king Yudhishthira the just. The royal sage, Yudhishthira, of righteous soul, seeing his dear queen sit in praya, addressed her, saying, 'O auspicious lady, O thou that art conversant with morality, all thy sons and brothers have righteously met with a noble death. It behoveth thee not to grieve for them. As regards Drona's son, he hath gone to a distant forest, O beautiful princess! How shall thou O lady, make thyself sure of his fall in battle?' "Draupadi answered, 'I have heard that Drona's son hath a gem on his head, born with him. I shall see that gem brought to me after the slaughter of that wretch in battle. Placing that gem on thy head, O king, I shall endure to live. Even this is my resolve.' "Having said these words unto the royal son of Pandu, the beautiful Krishna approached Bhimasena and said these words of high purpose unto him: 'Remembering the duties of a Kshatriya, O Bhima, it behoveth thee to come to my rescue. Slay that man of sinful deeds like Maghavat slaying Samvara. There is no one in this world who is equal to thee in prowess. It is known throughout the world how on an occasion of great calamity thou becamest at the town Varanavata the refuge of all the Parthas. When again we were seen by Hidimba, it was thou that becamest our refuge in the same way. Like Maghavat rescuing (his spouse) the daughter of Puloma, thou didst rescue my afflicted self, in Virata's city, from a great calamity. Like those great feats, O Partha, that thou didst achieve in former days, slay now, O slayer of foes, the son of Drona and be thou happy!' "Hearing these and other piteous lamentations of the princess, Kunti's son, Bhimasena, of great might, could not endure them. He mounted upon his great car adorned with gold and took his beautiful bow with arrow placed on the string. Making Nakula his charioteer, and resolved upon slaying the son of Drona, he began to stretch his bow and caused his steeds to be urged without delay. Those steeds, fleet as the wind, thus urged, O tiger among men, proceeded with great speed. Possessed of great valour and unfading energy, Bhima set out from the Pandava camp and proceeded with great celerity along the track of Ashvatthama's vehicle." 12 Vaishampayana said, "After the irresistible Bhimasena had set out, that bull of Yadu's race, possessed of eyes like lotus-petals, addressed Kuru's son Yudhishthira, saying, 'O son of Pandu, this brother of thine, overwhelmed with grief at the slaughter of his sons, proceedeth alone to battle, from desire of slaying the son of Drona. O bull of Bharata's race, of all thy brothers, Bhima is thy dearest! Beholding him fallen into a great danger why dost thou not stir thyself? The weapon called brahmashira, which that subjugator of hostile towns, Drona, communicated to his son, is capable of consuming the whole world. The illustrious and highly blessed preceptor, that foremost of all wielders of bows, delighted with Dhananjaya, had given him that very weapon. Unable to endure it, his only son then begged it of him. Unwillingly he imparted the knowledge of that weapon to Ashvatthama. The illustrious Drona knew the restlessness of his son. Acquainted with all duties, the preceptor laid this command on him, saying, "Even when overtaken by the greatest danger, O child in the midst of battle, thou shouldst never use this weapon, particularly against human beings." Even thus the preceptor Drona spoke unto his son. A little while after he again spoke, saying, "O bull among men, thou wilt not, it seems, walk in the path of the righteous." Hearing those bitter words of his sire, the wicked-souled Ashvatthama, in despair of obtaining every kind of prosperity, began in grief to wander over the earth. "'Then, O chief of the Kurus, while you were living in the woods, O Bharata, he came to Dvaraka and took up his abode there, worshipped by the Vrishnis. One day, after he had taken up his abode in Dvaraka, he came to me, without a companion and when I myself was without anybody by my side, on the seacoast, and there smilingly addressing me said, "O Krishna, that weapon, called brahmashira, worshipped by gods and Gandharvas, which my sire, the preceptor of the Bharatas, of prowess incapable of being baffled, and obtained from Agastya after performing the austerest penances, is now with me, O Dasharha, as much as it is with my sire. O foremost one of Yadu's race, in exchange for that celestial weapon, give me thy discus which is capable of slaying all foes in battle." "'While he with joined palms and great importunity thus begged of me my discus, myself, O bull of Bharata's race, from desire of gladdening him, told him these words: "Gods, Danavas, Gandharvas, men, birds and snakes, assembled together, are not equal to even a hundredth part of my energy. I have this bow, this dart, this discus, and this mace. I will give thee whichever amongst these thou desirest to have from me. Without giving me the weapon thou wishest to give, take from among these weapons of mine whichever thou mayest be able to wield and use in battle." "'Thus addressed, the illustrious son of Drona, as if challenging me, solicited at my hands my discus of excellent nave and hard as thunder, possessed of a 1,000 spokes, and made of iron. "Take it," I said unto him. Thus addressed, he rose suddenly and seized the discus with his left hand. He failed, however, to even move the weapon from the spot on which it lay. He then made preparations for seizing it with his right hand. Having seized it then very firmly and having put forth all his strength, he still failed to either wield or move it. At this, Drona's son became filled with sorrow. After he was tired with the exertions he made, he ceased, O Bharata! "'When he withdrew his heart from that purpose, I addressed the anxious and senseless Ashvatthama and said, "He who is always regarded as the foremost of all human beings, that wielder of Gandiva, that warrior having white steeds yoked unto his car, that hero owning the prince of apes for the device on his standard, that hero who, desirous of vanquishing in a wrestling encounter the god of gods, the blue-throated lord of Uma, gratified the great Shankara himself, that Phalguna than whom I have no dearer friend on earth, that friend to whom there is nothing that I cannot give including my very wives and children, that dear friend Partha of unstained acts, never said unto me, O Brahmana, such words as these which thou hast uttered. "'"That son whom I obtained through ascetic penances and observances of austere brahmacarya for twelve years on the breast of Himavati whither I had gone for the purpose, that son of mine, Pradyumna, of great energy and a portion of Sanat-kumara himself, begotten by me upon my wife Rukmini who had practised vows as austere as mine, that hero even never solicited this best of objects, this unrivalled discus, which thou of little understanding had solicited! "'"Rama of great might never said such words to me! Neither Gada nor Samba has ever asked that of me which thou hast asked! No one among the other great car-warriors of the Vrishni and the Andhaka race residing in Dvaraka has ever asked this of me which thou hast asked! Thou art the son of the preceptor of the Bharatas, thou art held in high respect by all the Yadavas. Let me ask thee, O foremost of car-warriors, with whom wouldst thou fight using this weapon?" "'Thus addressed by me, Drona's son replied, saying, "After offering worship to thee, O Krishna, it was my intention to fight thee, O thou of unfading glory! It was for this, O Krishna that I solicited thee for thy discus which is adored by gods and Danavas. If I had got it I would then become invincible in the world. Having failed, O Keshava, in obtaining my almost unattainable wish, I am about to leave thee, O Govinda! Address me in fair words now. This terrible weapon is held by thee that art the foremost of all terrible persons. Unrivalled art thou for this weapon! There is none else in this world capable of possessing it." "'Having said these words unto me, the son of Drona, taking many couples of steeds and much wealth and diverse kinds of gems, left Dvaraka. He is wrathful, wicked-souled, restless, and very cruel. He knows the weapon called brahmashira. Vrikodara should be protected from him!'" 13 Vaishampayana said, "Having said these words, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, that delighter of all the Yadavas, mounted upon his excellent car equipped with every kind of powerful weapons. Unto that vehicle were yoked two pairs of foremost steeds of the Kamboja breed, that were adorned with garlands of gold. The dhur of that best of cars was of the hue of the morning sun. On the right was yoked the steed known as Shaibya; on the left was placed Sugriva; the Parshni was borne by two others called Meghapushpa and Balahaka. There was seen on that car a celestial standard decked with gems and gold and created by the divine Artificer, and standing high like the Maya (of Vishnu himself). Upon that standard was Vinata's son (Garuda) shining with great splendour. Indeed, that enemy of snakes perched on the standard-top of Keshava who is Truth embodied. "Then Hrishikesha, that foremost of all bowmen, mounted on that car. After him Arjuna of irresistible feats and Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus, ascended the same vehicle. Seated on that car, by the side of him of Dasharha's race who wielded the bow called Sharnga, the two sons of Pandu looked exceedingly beautiful, like the twin Ashvinis seated by the side of Vasava. Causing them to ascend on that car of his which was adored by all the world, he of Dasharha's race urged those foremost of steeds endued with great fleetness. Those steeds then suddenly flew, taking after them that excellent vehicle ridden by the two sons of Pandu and by that bull of Yadu's race. Endued with great speed, as those animals bore away the wielder of Sharnga, loud became the noise caused by their rush, like that of birds coursing through the air. "Proceeding with great speed, they soon came up, O bull of Bharata's race, with the mighty bowman Bhimasena in whose wake they had followed. Although those great car-warriors met Bhima, they failed however to stop that son of Kunti, as filled with wrath he proceeded fiercely towards the foe. In the very sight of those illustrious and firm bowmen, Bhima, by means of his very fleet steeds, proceeded towards the bank of the river brought down by Bhagiratha. He beheld the high-souled and illustrious and dark-complexioned and island-born Vyasa sitting near the edge of the water in the midst of many Rishis. And he also saw Drona's son of wicked deeds sitting beside them, covered with dust, attired in a piece of cloth made of kusha grass, and smeared all over with clarified butter. The mighty-armed Bhimasena, the son of Kunti, taking up his bow with shaft fixed on it, rushed towards Ashvatthama, and said, 'Wait, wait!' "Drona's son, beholding that terrible bowman coming towards him bow in hand, and the two brothers on Janardana's car, became exceedingly agitated and thought his hour had come. Of soul incapable of being depressed, he called to his mind that high weapon (which he had obtained from his sire). He then took up a blade of grass with his left hand. Fallen into great distress, he inspired that blade of grass with proper mantras and converted it into that powerful celestial weapon. Unable to brook the arrows (of the Pandavas) and the presence of those wielders of celestial weapons, he uttered in wrath these terrible words: 'For the destruction of the Pandavas.' Having said these words, O tiger among kings, the valiant son of Drona let off that weapon for stupefying all the worlds. A fire then was born in that blade of grass, which seemed capable of consuming the three worlds like the all-destroying Yama at the end of the yuga." 14 Vaishampayana said, "At the very outset the mighty-armed hero of Dasharha's race understood from signs the intention of Drona's son. Addressing Arjuna, he said, 'O Arjuna, O son of Pandu, the time is come for the use of that celestial weapon which is in thy memory, knowledge of which was imparted to thee by Drona. For protecting thyself as also thy brothers, O Bharata, shoot in this battle that weapon which is capable of neutralising all weapons.' "Thus addressed by Keshava, Arjuna, that slayer of hostile heroes, quickly alighted from the car, taking with him his bow with shaft fixed on the string. Softly wishing good unto the preceptor's son and then unto himself, and unto all his brothers, that scorcher of foes then bowed unto all the gods and all his superiors and let off his weapon, thinking of the welfare of all the worlds and uttering the words, 'Let Ashvatthama's weapon be neutralised by this weapon!' "That weapon, quickly let off by the wielder of Gandiva, blazed up with fierce flames like the all-destroying fire that appears at the end of the yuga. Similarly, the weapon that had been shot by Drona's son of fierce energy blazed up with terrible flames within a huge sphere of fire. Numerous peals of thunder were heard; thousands of meteors fell; and all living creatures became inspired with great dread. The entire welkin seemed to be filled with noise and assumed a terrible aspect with those flames of fire. The whole earth with her mountains and waters and trees, trembled. Then the two great Rishis, Narada, who is the soul of every creature, and the grandsire of all the Bharata princes (Vyasa), beholding those two weapons scorching the three worlds, showed themselves there. The two Rishis sought to pacify the two heroes Ashvatthama and Dhananjaya. Conversant with all duties and desirous of the welfare of all creatures, the two sages, possessed of great energy, stood in the midst of those two blazing weapons. Incapable of being overwhelmed by any force, those two illustrious Rishis, placing themselves between the two weapons, stood like two blazing fires. Incapable of being checked by any creature endued with life, and adorned by the gods and Danavas, they two acted in this way, neutralising the energy of the two weapons and doing good to all the world. "The two Rishis said, 'Those great car-warriors who have fallen in this battle were acquainted with diverse kinds of weapons. They, however, never shot such a weapon upon human beings. What act of rashness is this, ye heroes, that ye have done?'" 15 Vaishampayana said, "At the very sight, O tiger among men, of those two Rishis possessed of splendour like that of fire, Dhananjaya quickly resolved to withdraw his celestial shaft. Joining his hands, he addressed those Rishis, saying, 'I used this weapon, saying, "Let it neutralise the (enemy's) weapon!" If I withdraw this high weapon, Drona's son of sinful deeds will then, without doubt, consume us all with the energy of his weapon. Ye two are like gods! It behoveth you to devise some means by which our welfare as also that of the three worlds may be secured!' "Having said these words Dhananjaya withdrew his weapon. The withdrawal of that weapon by the gods themselves in battle is exceedingly difficult. Not excepting the great Indra himself, there was nobody save the son of Pandu, who was capable of withdrawing that high weapon after it had once been let off. That weapon was born of Brahma energy. No person of uncleansed soul can bring it back after it is once let off. Only one that leads the life of a brahmacari can do it. If one who has not practised the vow of brahmacarya seeks to bring it back after having shot it, it strikes off his own head and destroys him with all his equipments. Arjuna was a brahmacari and an observer of vows. Having obtained that almost unobtainable weapon, he had never used it even when plunged into situations of the greatest danger. Observant of the vow of truth, possessed of great heroism, leading the life of a brahmacari, the son of Pandu was submissive and obedient to all his superiors. It was for this that he succeeded in withdrawing his weapon. "Drona's son, beholding those two Rishis standing before him, could not by his energy withdraw his own terrible weapon. Unable to withdraw the high weapon in battle, Drona's son, O king, with a cheerless heart, said unto the island-born rishi these words, 'Threatened by a great danger, and desirous of protecting my life, I let off this weapon, through fear of Bhimasena, O sage! This Bhimasena of false behaviour, acted sinfully, O holy one, while slaying the son of Dhritarashtra in battle! It is for this, O regenerate one, that of uncleansed soul as I am I let off this weapon. I dare not, however, withdraw it now. Having inspired this irresistible and celestial weapon with the energy of fire, I let it off for the destruction of the Pandavas. Contrived for the destruction of the Pandavas, that weapon, therefore, will take away the lives of all the sons of Pandu. O regenerate one, I have, in wrath, done this sinful deed. I invoked this weapon in battle for the destruction of the Pandavas.' "Vyasa said, 'Pritha's son Dhananjaya, O child, was acquainted with the weapon called brahmashira. Neither from wrath, nor for thy destruction in battle, did he shoot this weapon. Arjuna, on the other hand, used it for baffling thy weapon. He has again withdrawn it. Having obtained even the brahmastra through thy sire's instructions, the mighty-armed Dhananjaya did not fall off from a Kshatriya's duties. Arjuna is possessed of such patience, and such honesty. He is, besides, conversant with every weapon, Why dost thou seek to compass the destruction of such a person with all his brothers? That region where the weapon called brahmashira is baffled by another high weapon suffers a drought for twelve years, for the clouds do not pour a drop of water there for this period. For this reason, the mighty-armed son of Pandu, although he had the power, would not, from desire of doing good to living creatures, baffle thy weapon with his. The Pandavas should be protected; thy own self should be protected; the kingdom also should be protected. Therefore, O thou of mighty arms, withdraw this celestial weapon of thine. Dispel this wrath from thy heart and let the Pandavas be safe. The royal sage Yudhishthira never desires to win victory by perpetrating any sinful act. Give unto these that gem which is on thy head. Taking that, the Pandavas will in return grant thee thy life!' "Drona's son said, 'This my gem is more valuable than all the wealth that has ever been earned by the Pandavas and the Kauravas. If this gem is worn, the wearer ceases to have any fear from weapons or disease or hunger! He ceases to have any fear of gods and Danavas and Nagas! His apprehensions from Rakshasas as also from robbers will cease. Even these are the virtues of this gem of mine. I cannot, by any means, part with it. That, however, O holy one, which thou sayest, should be done by me. Here is this gem. Here is myself. This blade of grass (inspired into a fatal weapon) will, however, fall into the wombs of the Pandava women, for this weapon is high and mighty, and incapable of being frustrated. O regenerate one, I am unable to withdraw it, having once let it off. I will now throw this weapon into the wombs of the Pandava women. As regards thy commands in other respects, O holy one, I shall certainly obey them.' "Vyasa said, 'Do then this. Do not, however, entertain any other purpose, O sinless one! Throwing this weapon into the wombs of the Pandava women, stop thyself.'" Vaishampayana continued, "The son of Drona, having heard these words of the island-born, threw that uplifted weapon into the wombs of the Pandava women." 16 Vaishampayana said, "Understanding that that weapon was thrown (into the wombs of the Pandava women) by Drona's son of sinful deeds, Hrishikesha, with a cheerful heart, said these words unto him: 'A certain Brahmana of pious vows, beholding Virata's daughter who is now daughter-in-law to Arjuna, while she was at Upaplavya, said, "While the Kuru line will become extinct, a son will be born to thee. This thy son for that reason, will be called by the name of Parikshit." The words of that pious man shall become true: the Pandavas shall have a son called Parikshit.' Unto Govinda, that foremost one of the Satvata race, while he was saying these words, Drona's son, filled with wrath, replied, saying, 'This, O Keshava, that thou sayest from thy partiality for the Pandavas, shall not happen. O thou of eyes like lotus-petals, my words cannot but be fulfilled. Uplifted by me, this weapon of mine shall fall on the foetus that is in the womb of Virata's daughter, upon that foetus which thou, O Krishna, art desirous of protecting.' "The holy one said, 'The fall of this mighty weapon will not be fruitless. The foetus will die. But being dead, it will live again and have a long life! As regards thyself, all wise men know thee for a coward and a sinful wretch! Always engaged in sinful acts, thou art the slayer of children. For this reason, thou must have to bear the fruit of these thy sins. For 3,000 years thou shalt wander over this earth, without a companion and without being able to talk with anyone. Alone and without anybody by thy side, thou shalt wander through diverse countries, O wretch, thou shalt have no place in the midst of men. The stench of pus and blood shall emanate from thee, and inaccessible forests and dreary moors shall be thy abode! Thou shalt wander over the Earth, O thou of sinful soul, with the weight of all diseases on thee. "'The heroic Parikshit, attaining to age and a knowledge of the Vedas and the practice of pious vows, shall obtain all weapons from the son of Sharadvata. Having obtained a knowledge of all high weapons, and observant of all Kshatriya duties, that righteous-souled king shall rule the earth for sixty years. More than this, that boy shall become the mighty-armed king of the Kurus, known by the name of Parikshit, before thy very eyes, O thou of wicked soul! Though burnt by the energy of thy weapon's fire, I shall revive him. O lowest of men, behold the energy of my austerities and my truth.' "Vyasa said, 'Since, disregarding us, thou hast perpetrated this exceedingly cruel act, and since thy behaviour is such although thou art a good Brahmana (by birth), therefore, those excellent words that Devaki's son has said, will, without doubt, be realised in thy case, an adopter as thou hast been of Kshatriya usages!' "Ashvatthama said, 'With thyself among all men, O holy one, I shall live! Let the words of this illustrious and foremost of men become true!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Drona's son, then, having made over his gem to the high-souled Pandavas, cheerlessly proceeded, before their eyes, to the forest. The Pandavas who had killed and chastised all their foes, placed Govinda and the island-born Krishna and the great ascetic Narada at their head, and taking the gem that was born with Ashvatthama, quickly came back to the intelligent Draupadi who was sitting in observance of the praya vow. "Those tigers among men, borne by their excellent steeds resembling the wind in fleetness, came back with him of Dasharha's race to their encampment. Speedily alighting from their cars, those great car-warriors, themselves much more afflicted, beheld Drupada's daughter Krishna afflicted with woe. Approaching the cheerless princess stricken with sorrow and grief, the Pandavas with Keshava, sat round her. "Then the mighty Bhimasena, desired by the king, gave that celestial gem unto her and said these words: 'This gem, O amiable lady, is thine. The slayer of thy sons hath been vanquished. Rise, casting off thy sorrow, and recollect the duties of a Kshatriya lady. O thou of black eyes, when Vasudeva was about to set out (from Upaplavya) on his mission of peace, thou hadst, O timid lady, said even these words unto the slayer of Madhu, 'I have no husbands! I have no sons, nor brothers! Nor art thou alive, O Govinda, since the king desires for peace!' Those bitter words were addressed by thee to Krishna, that foremost of persons! It behoveth thee to recollect those words of thine that were so consistent with Kshatriya usages. "'The wretched Duryodhana, that obstacle on the way of our sovereignty, has been slain. I have quaffed the blood of the living Duhshasana. We have paid off the debt we owed to our enemy. People, while talking, will not be able to censure us any longer. Having vanquished Drona's son, we have set him free for the sake of his being a Brahmana and of the respect that should be shown to our deceased preceptor. His fame hath been destroyed, O goddess, only his body remains! He has been divested of his gem and on earth he has been reft of his weapons!' "Draupadi said, 'I desired to only pay off our debt for the injury we have sustained. The preceptor's son is worthy of my reverence as the preceptor himself. Let the king bind this gem on his head, O Bharata!' The king then, taking that gem, placed it on his head, at the desire of Draupadi and regarding it as a gift from the preceptor. Holding on his head that excellent and celestial gem, the puissant king looked beautiful like a mountain with the moon above it. Though stricken with grief on account of the death of her sons, the princess Draupadi, possessed of great mental strength, gave up her vow. Then king Yudhishthira enquired of the mighty-armed Krishna, saying the following words." 17 Vaishampayana said, "After all the troops had been slain during the hour of sleep by those three car-warriors, king Yudhishthira in great grief said these words unto him of Dasharha's race: 'How, O Krishna, could my sons, all of whom were mighty car-warriors, be slaughtered by the sinful and wretched Ashvatthama of no great skill in battle? How also could Drona's son slay the children of Drupada, all of whom were accomplished in weapons, possessed of great prowess, and capable of battling with hundreds of thousands of foes? How could he slay that foremost of car-warriors, Dhrishtadyumna, before whom the great bowman Drona himself could not appear? What act was done by the preceptor's son, O bull among men, in consequence of which he succeeded in slaying, single-handed, all our men in battle?' "The holy one said, 'Verily, Drona's son had sought the aid of that highest of all the gods, the eternal Mahadeva. It was for this that he succeeded in slaying, single-handed, so large a number of warriors. If Mahadeva be gratified, he can bestow even immortality. Girisha can give such valour as will succeed in checking Indra himself. I know Mahadeva truly, O bull of Bharata's race! I know also his various acts of old. He, O Bharata, is the beginning, the middle, and the end of all creatures. This entire universe acts and moves through his energy. "'The puissant Grandsire, desirous of creating living creatures, saw Rudra; and the Grandsire asked him, saying, "Create living creatures without delay!" Thus asked, Rudra of tawny locks, saying, "So be it!" plunged into the water and practised austerities for a long time, inasmuch as he was sensible of the defects of living creatures. Having waited in expectation of Rudra for a very long time, the Grandsire, by a fiat of his will, invoked into existence another being for making him the creator of all kinds of living things. Beholding Girisha plunged into the waters, this (second) being said unto his sire, "If there be no being born before me, then I will create living creatures!" His sire replied unto him, saying, "There is no other first-born being besides thee! This Sthanu has plunged into the water! Go and create living creatures, without any anxiety!" "'That being then created many living creatures, having Daksha for their first, who created all these creatures of four kinds. As soon, however, as they were created, they ran O king, towards their sire, afflicted with hunger and desirous of devouring him. The second being whom Brahma had created, thereupon ran towards him, desirous of protection from his own offspring. And he said unto the Grandsire, "O illustrious one, protect me from these, and let these creatures have their food assigned unto them!" Then the Grandsire assigned herbs and plants and other vegetables as their food, and unto those that were strong he assigned the weaker creatures as the means of sustenance. Their sustenance having been thus assigned, the newly-created creatures all went away to regions they desired, and cheerfully multiplied by union with their respective species. "'After the creatures had multiplied and the Grandsire had become well pleased, the first-born rose from the water and beheld the living creation. He saw that diverse kinds of creatures had been created and that they had multiplied by their own energy. At this sight, Rudra became angry and caused his procreative limb to disappear in the bowels of the Earth. The unfading Brahma, soothing him by soft words, said unto him, "O Sharva, what wert thou doing so long within the water? For what reason, also hast thou caused thy limb of generation to disappear in the bowels of the Earth?" Thus questioned, that lord of the universe wrathfully answered the lord Brahman, "Somebody else has created all these creatures! What purpose then would be served by this limb of mine? I have by my austerities, O Grandsire, created food for all these creatures. These herbs and plants also will multiply like those that will subsist upon them!" Having said these words, Bhava went away, in cheerlessness and rage, to the foot of the Menjavat mountains for practising severer austerities.'" 18 "The holy one said, 'After the krita-yuga had elapsed, the gods, desirous of performing a sacrifice, duly made preparation for one according to the directions laid down in the Vedas. They collected clarified butter and the other requisites. And they not only devised what the requisites of their sacrifice should be, but also determined those amongst themselves that should have a share in the sacrificial offerings. "'Not knowing Rudra truly, the celestials, O king, assigned no share for the divine Sthanu. Seeing that the celestials assigned to him no share in the sacrificial offerings, Sthanu, clad in deer skins, desired to destroy that Sacrifice and with that object constructed a bow. There are four kinds of Sacrifices: the loka Sacrifice, the Sacrifice of special rites, the eternal domestic Sacrifice, and the Sacrifice consisting in the gratification derived by man from his enjoyment of the five elemental substances and their compounds. It is from these four kinds of Sacrifice that the universe has sprung. Kapardin constructed that bow using as materials the first and the fourth kinds of Sacrifices. The length of that bow was five cubits. The sacred (mantra) "vashat," O Bharata, was made its string. The four parts, of which a Sacrifice consists, became the adornments of that bow. "'Then Mahadeva, filled with rage, and taking up that bow, proceeded to that spot where the celestials were engaged in their Sacrifice. Beholding the unfading Rudra arrive there attired as a brahmacari and armed with that bow, the goddess Earth shrunk with fear and the very mountains began to tremble. The very wind ceased to move, and fire itself, though fed, did not blaze forth. The stars in the firmament, in anxiety, began to wander in irregular courses. The Sun's splendour decreased. The disc of the Moon lost its beauty. The entire welkin became enveloped in a thick gloom. The celestials, overwhelmed, knew not what to do. Their Sacrifice ceased to blaze forth. The gods were all terrified. Rudra then pierced the embodiment of Sacrifice with a fierce shaft in the heart. The embodied form of Sacrifice, assuming the shape of a deer, fled away, with the god of fire. Approaching heaven in that form, he blazed forth in beauty. Rudra, however, O Yudhishthira, pursued him through the skies. After Sacrifice had fled away, the gods lost their splendour. Having lost their senses, the gods were stupefied. "'Then the three-eyed Mahadeva, with his bow, broke in rage the arms of Savitri, and plucked out the eyes of Bhaga and the teeth of Pushana. The gods then fled away, as also all the several parts of Sacrifice. Some amongst them, reeling as they sought to fly away, fell down senseless. The blue-throated Rudra, having agitated them thus, laughed aloud, and whirling the horn of his bow, paralysed them. The celestials then uttered a cry. At their command, the string of the bow broke. The string having broken, the bow became stretched into a line. The gods then approached the bowless god of gods and, with the embodied form of Sacrifice, sought the protection of the puissant Mahadeva and endeavoured to gratify him. "'Gratified, the great god threw his wrath into the water, O king, that wrath, assuming the form of fire, is always employed in consuming that liquid element. He then gave unto Savitri his arms, Bhaga his eyes, and Pushana his teeth. And he also restored the Sacrifices themselves, O Pandava! The world once more became safe and sound. The gods assigned unto Mahadeva all the libations of clarified butter as the share of great deity. O monarch, when Mahadeva had become angry, the whole world had thus become agitated: when he became gratified everything became safe. Possessed of great energy, the god Mahadeva was gratified with Ashvatthama. It was for this that thy sons, those mighty car-warriors, could be slain by that warrior. It was for this that many other heroes, the Pancalas, with all their followers, could be slain by him. Thou shouldst not suffer thy mind to dwell on it. It was not Drona's son that accomplished that act. It was done through the grace of Mahadeva. Do now what should next be done.'" The end of Sauptika-parva. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 11 Stri-parva Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned and Proofed by Mantra Caitanya. Additional proofing and formatting at sacred-texts.com, by J. B. Hare, October 2003. 1 (Jalapradanika-parva) Om! Having bowed down unto Narayana and Nara, the foremost of male beings, and unto the goddess Sarasvati, must the word Jaya be uttered. Janamejaya said, "After Duryodhana had fallen and after all the warriors also had fallen, what, O sage, did king Dhritarashtra do on receipt of the intelligence? What also did the high-souled Kuru king Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, do? What did the three survivors (of the Kuru army) viz. Kripa and the others do? I have heard everything about the feats of Ashvatthama. Tell me what happened after that mutual denunciation of curses. Tell me all that Sanjaya said unto the blind old king." Vaishampayana said, "After he had lost his century of sons, king Dhritarashtra, afflicted with grief on that account, cheerless, and looking like a tree shorn of its branches, became overwhelmed with anxiety and lost his power of speech. Possessed of great wisdom, Sanjaya, approaching the monarch, addressed him, saying, 'Why dost thou grieve, O monarch? Grief does not serve any purpose. Eight and ten Akshauhinis of combatants, O king, have been slain! The earth hath become desolate, and is almost empty now! Kings of diverse realms, hailing from diverse quarters, united with thy son (for aiding him in battle) have all laid down their lives. Let now the obsequial rites of thy sires and sons and grandsons and kinsmen and friends and preceptors be performed in due order.'" Vaishampayana continued, "Destitute of sons and counsellors and all his friends, king Dhritarashtra of great energy suddenly fell down on the earth like a tree uprooted by the wind. "Dhritarashtra said, 'Destitute as I am of sons and counsellors and all my friends, I shall, without doubt have to wander in sorrow over the earth. What need have I now of life itself, left as I am of kinsmen and friends and resembling as I do a bird shorn of its wings and afflicted with decrepitude? Shorn of kingdom, deprived of kinsmen, and destitute of eyes, I cannot, O thou of great wisdom, shine any longer on earth like a luminary shorn of its splendours! I did not follow the counsels of friends of Jamadagni's son, of the celestial rishi Narada, and of island-born Krishna, while they offered me counsel. In the midst of the assembly, Krishna told me what was for my good, saying, "A truce (tense) to hostilities, O king! Let thy son take the whole kingdom! Give but five villages to the Pandavas!" Fool that I was, for not following that advice, I am now obliged to repent so poignantly! I did not listen to the righteous counsels of Bhishma. Alas, having heard of the slaughter of Duryodhana whose roars were as deep as those of a bull, having heard also of the death of Duhshasana and the extinction of Karna and the setting of the Drona-sun, my heart does not break into pieces. I do not, O Sanjaya, remember any evil act committed by me in former days, whose consequences, fool that I am, I am suffering today. Without doubt, I committed great sins in my former lives, for which the Supreme Ordainer has set me to endure such a measure of grief. This destruction of all my kinsmen, this extermination of all my well-wishers and friends, at this old age, has come upon me through the force of Destiny. What other man is there on earth who is more afflicted than my wretched self? Since it is so, let the Pandavas behold me this very day firmly resolved to betake myself to the long way that leads to the regions of Brahman!'" Vaishampayana continued, "While king Dhritarashtra was indulging in such lamentations, Sanjaya addressed him in the following words for dispelling his grief, 'Cast off thy grief, O monarch! Thou hast heard the conclusions of the Vedas and the contents of diverse scriptures and holy writ, from the lips of the old, O king! Thou hast heard those words which the sages said unto Sanjaya while the latter was afflicted with grief on account of the death of his son. When thy son, O monarch, caught the pride that is born of youth, thou didst not accept the counsels offered unto thee by thy well-wishers. Desirous of fruit, thou didst not, through covetousness, do what was really for thy benefit. Thy own intelligence, like a sharp sword, has wounded thee. Thou didst generally pay court to those that were of wicked behaviour. Thy son had Duhshasana for his counsellor, and the wicked-souled son of Radha, and the equally wicked Shakuni and Citrasena of foolish understanding, and Salya. Thy son (by his own behaviour) made the whole world his enemy. Thy son, O Bharata, did not obey the words of Bhishma, the reverend chief of the Kurus, of Gandhari and Vidura, of Drona, O king, of Kripa the son of Sharadvata, of the mighty-armed Krishna, of the intelligent Narada, of many other Rishis, and of Vyasa himself of immeasurable energy. Though possessed of prowess, thy son was of little intelligence, proud, always desirous of battle, wicked, ungovernable, and discontented. Thou art possessed of learning and intelligence and art always truthful. They that are so righteous and possessed of such intelligence as thou, are never stupefied by grief. Virtue was regarded by none of them. Battle was the one word on their lips. For this the Kshatriya order has been exterminated and the fame of thy foes enhanced. Thou hadst occupied the position of an umpire, but thou didst not utter one word of salutary advise. Unfitted as thou wert for the task, thou didst not hold the scales evenly. Every person should, at the outset, adopt such a beneficial line of action that he may not have, in the end, to repent for something already done by him. Through affection for thy son, O monarch, thou didst what was agreeable to Duryodhana. Thou art obliged to repent for that now. It behoveth thee, however not to give way to grief. The man whose eyes are directed towards only the honey without being once directed to the fall, meets with destruction through his covetousness for honey. Such a man is obliged to repent even like thee. The man who indulges in grief never wins wealth. By grieving one loses the fruits one desires. Grief is again an obstacle to the acquisition of objects dear to us. The man who gives way to grief loses even his salvation. The man who shrouds a burning coal within the folds of his attire and is burnt by the fire that is kindled by it, would be pronounced a fool if he grieves for his injuries. Thyself, with thy son, hadst, with your words, fanned the Partha-fire, and with your covetousness acting as clarified butter caused that fire to blaze forth, into consuming flames. When that fire thus blazed forth thy sons fell into it like insects. It behoveth thee not, however, to grieve for them now that they have all been burnt in the fire of the enemy's arrow. The tear-stained face, O king, which thou bearest now is not approved by the scriptures or praised by the wise. These tears, like sparks of fire, burn the dead for whom they are shed. Kill thy grief with thy intelligence, and bear thyself up with the strength of thy own self!' Thus was the king comforted by the high-souled Sanjaya. Vidura then, O scorcher of foes, once again addressed the king, displaying great intelligence." 2 Vaishampayana said, "Listen, O Janamejaya, to the nectar-like words that Vidura said unto the son of Vichitravirya and by which he gladdened that bull among men! "Vidura said, 'Rise, O king! Why art thou stretched on the earth? Bear thyself up with thy own self. O king, even this is the final end of all living creatures. Everything massed together ends in destruction; everything that gets high is sure to fall down. Union is certain to end in separation; life is sure to end in death. The destroyer, O Bharata, drags both the hero and the coward. Why then, O bull amongst Kshatriyas, should not Kshatriyas engage in battle? He that does not fight is seen to escape with life. When, however, one's time comes, O king, one cannot escape. As regards living creatures, they are non-existent at first. They exist in the period that intervenes. In the end they once more become non-existent. What matter of grief then is there in this? The man that indulges in grief succeeds not in meeting with the dead. By indulging in grief, one does not himself die. When the course of the world is such, why dost thou indulge in sorrow? Death drags all creatures, even the gods. There is none dear or hateful to death, O best of the Kurus! As the wind tears off the tops of all blades of grass, even so, O bull of Bharata's race, death overmasters all creatures. All creatures are like members of a caravan bound for the same destination. (When death will encounter all) it matters very little whom he meets with first. It behoveth thee not, O king, to grieve for those that have been slain in battle. If the scriptures are any authority, all of them must have obtained the highest end. All of them were versed in the Vedas; all of them had observed vows. Facing the foe all of them have met with death. What matter of sorrow is there in this? Invisible they had been (before birth). Having come from that unknown region, they have once more become invisible. They are not thine, nor art thou theirs. What grief then is there in such disappearance? If slain, one wins heaven. By slaying, fame is won. Both these, with respect to us, are productive of great merit. Battle, therefore, is not bootless. No doubt, Indra will contrive for them regions capable of granting every wish. These, O bull among men, become the guests of Indra. Men cannot, by sacrifices with profuse gifts, by ascetic penances and by learning, go so speedily to heaven as heroes slain in battle. On the bodies of hostile heroes constituting the sacrificial fire, they poured their arrowy libations. Possessed of great energy, they had in return to endure the arrowy libations (poured upon them by their enemies). I tell thee, O king, that for a Kshatriya in this world there is not a better road to heaven than battle! They were all high-souled Kshatriyas; possessed of bravery, they were ornaments of assemblies. They have attained to a high state of blessedness. They are not persons for whom we should grieve. Comforting thyself by thy own self cease to grieve, O bull among men! It behoveth thee not to suffer thyself to be overwhelmed with sorrow and to abandon all actions. There are thousands of mothers and fathers and sons and wives in this world. Whose are they, and whose are we? From day to day thousands of causes spring up for sorrow and thousands of causes for fear. These, however, affect the ignorant but are nothing to him that is wise. There is none dear or hateful to Time, O best of the Kurus! Time is indifferent to none. All are equally dragged by Time. Time causeth all creatures to grow, and it is Time that destroyeth everything. When all else is asleep, Time is awake. Time is irresistible. Youth, beauty, life, possessions, health, and the companionship of friends, all are unstable. He that is wise will never covet any of these. It behoveth thee not to grieve for what is universal. A person may, by indulging in grief, himself perish, but grief itself, by being indulged in, never becomes light. If thou feelest thy grief to be heavy, it should be counteracted by not indulging in it. Even this is the medicine for grief, viz., that one should not indulge in it. By dwelling on it, one cannot lessen it. On the other hand, it grows with indulgence. Upon the advent of evil or upon the bereavement of something that is dear, only they that are of little intelligence suffer their minds to be afflicted with grief. This is neither Profit, nor Religion, nor Happiness, on which thy heart is dwelling. The indulgence of grief is the certain means of one's losing one's objects. Through it, one falls away from the three great ends of life (religion, profit, and pleasure). They that are destitute of contentment, are stupefied on the accession of vicissitudes dependent upon the possession of wealth. They, however, that are wise, are on the other hand, unaffected by such vicissitudes. One should kill mental grief by wisdom, just as physical grief should be killed by medicine. Wisdom hath this power. They, however, that are foolish, can never obtain tranquillity of soul. The acts of a former life closely follow a man, insomuch that they lie by him when he lies down, stay by him when he stays, and run with him when he runs. In those conditions of life in which one acts well or ill, one enjoys or suffers the fruit thereof in similar conditions. In those forms (of physical organisation) in which one performs particular acts, one enjoys or suffers the fruits thereof in similar forms. One's own self is one's own friend, as, indeed, one's own self is one's own enemy. One's own self is the witness of one's acts, good and evil. From good acts springs a state of happiness, from sinful deeds springs woe. One always obtains the fruit of one's acts. One never enjoys or suffers weal or woe that is not the fruit of one's own acts. Intelligent persons like thee, O king, never sink in sinful enormities that are disapproved by knowledge and that strike at the very root (of virtue and happiness).'" 3 "Dhritarashtra said, 'O thou of great wisdom, my grief has been dispelled by thy excellent words! I desire, however, to again hear thee speak. How, indeed, do those that are wise free themselves from mental grief born of the advent of evils and the bereavement of objects that are dear?' "Vidura said, 'He that is wise obtains tranquillity by subduing both grief and joy through means by which one may escape from grief and joy. All those things about which we are anxious, O bull among men, are ephemeral. The world is like a plantain tree, without enduring strength. Since the wise and the foolish, the rich and the poor, all, divested of their anxieties, sleep on the crematorium, with bodies reft of flesh and full of bare bones and shrivelled sinews, whom amongst them will the survivors look upon as possessed of distinguishing marks by which the attributes of birth and beauty may be ascertained? (When all are equal in death) why should human beings, whose understandings are always deceived (by the things of this world) covet one another's rank and position? The learned say that the bodies of men are like houses. In time these are destroyed. There is one being, however, that is eternal. As a person, casting off one attire, whether old or new, wears another, even such is the case with the bodies of all embodied beings. O son of Vichitravirya, creatures obtain weal or woe as the fruit of their own acts. Through their acts they obtain heaven, O Bharata, or bliss, or woe. Whether able or unable, they have to bear their burdens which are the result of their own acts. As amongst earthen pots some break while still on the potters wheel, some while partially shaped, some as soon as brought into shape, some after removal from the wheel, some while in course of being removed, some after removal, some while wet, some while dry, some while being burnt, some while being removed from the kiln, some after removal therefrom, and some while being used, even such is the case with the bodies of embodied creatures. Some are destroyed while yet in the womb, some after coming out of the womb, some on the day after, some on the expiration of a fortnight or of a month, some on the expiration of a year or of two years, some in youth, some in middle age, and some when old. Creatures are born or destroyed according to their acts in previous lives. When such is the course of the world, why do you then indulge in grief? As men, while swimming in sport on the water, sometimes dive and sometimes emerge, O king, even so creatures sink and emerge in life's stream. They that are of little wisdom suffer or meet with destruction as the result of their own acts. They, however, that are wise, observant of virtue, and desirous of doing good unto all living creatures, they, acquainted with the real nature of the appearance of creatures in this world, attain at last to the highest end.'" 4 "Dhritarashtra said, 'O of foremost speakers, how may the wilderness of this world be known? I desire to hear this. Asked by me, tell me this.' "Vidura said, 'I will describe to thee all the acts of creatures from their first conception. At the outset it lives in the admixture of blood and the vital fluid. Then it grows little by little. Then on the expiry of the fifth month it assumes shape. It next becomes a foetus with all its limbs completed, and lives in a very impure place, covered with flesh and blood. Then, through the action of the wind, its lower limbs are turned upwards and the head comes downwards. Arriving in this posture at the mouth of the uterus, it suffers manifold woes. In consequence of the contractions of the uterus, the creature then comes out of it, endued with the results of all his previous acts. He then encounters in this world other evils that rush towards him. Calamities proceed towards him like dogs at the scent of meat. Next diverse diseases approach him while he is enchained by his previous acts. Bound by the chains of the senses and women and wealth and other sweet things of life, diverse evil practices also approach him then, O king! Seized by these, he never obtains happiness. At that season he succeeds not in obtaining the fruit of his acts, right or wrong. They, however, that set their hearts on reflection, succeed in protecting their souls. The person governed by his senses does not know that death has come at his door. At last, dragged by the messengers of the Destroyer, he meets with destruction at the appointed time. Agitated by his senses, for whatever good and evil has been done at the outset and having enjoyed or suffered the fruits of these, he once more becomes indifferent to his acts of self-slaughter. Alas, the world is deceived, and covetousness brings it under its dominion. Deprived of understanding by covetousness, wrath, and fear, one knows not one's own self. Filled with joy at one's own respectability of birth, one is seen to traduce those that are not high-born. Swelled also with pride of wealth, one is seen to contemn the poor. One regards others to be ignorant fools, but seldom takes a survey of one's own self. One attributes faults to others but is never desirous to punish one's own self. Since the wise and the ignorant, the rich and the poor, the high-born and the lowborn, the honoured and the dishonoured, all go to the place of the dead and sleep there freed from every anxiety, with bodies divested of flesh and full only of bones united by dried-up tendons, whom amongst them would the survivors look upon as distinguished above the others and by what signs would they ascertain the attributes of birth and beauty? When all, stretched after the same fashion, sleep on the bare ground, why then should men, taking leave of their senses, desire to deceive one another? He that, looking at this saying (in the scriptures) with his own eyes or hearing it from others, practiseth virtue in this unstable world of life and adhereth to it from early age, attaineth to the highest end. Learning all this, he that adhereth to Truth, O king, succeedeth in passing over all paths.'" 5 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Tell me in detail everything about the ways of that intelligence by which this wilderness of duties may be safely covered.' "Vidura said, 'Having bowed down to the Self-create, I will obey thy behest by telling thee how the great sages speak of the wilderness of life. A certain Brahmana, living in the great world, found himself on one occasion in a large inaccessible forest teeming with beasts of prey. It abounded on every side with lions and other animals looking like elephants, all of which were engaged in roaring aloud. Such was the aspect of that forest that Yama himself would take fright at it. Beholding the forest, the heart of the Brahmana became exceedingly agitated. His hair stood on end, and other signs of fear manifested themselves, O scorcher of foes! Entering it, he began to run hither and thither, casting his eyes on every point of the compass for finding out somebody whose shelter he might seek. Wishing to avoid those terrible creatures, he ran in fright. He could not succeed, however, in distancing them or freeing himself from their presence. He then saw that that terrible forest was surrounded with a net, and that a frightful woman stood there, stretching her arms. That large forest was also encompassed by many five-headed snakes of dreadful forms, tall as cliffs and touching the very heavens. Within it was a pit whose mouth was covered with many hard and unyielding creepers and herbs. The Brahmana, in course of his wanderings, fell into that invisible pit. He became entangled in those clusters of creepers that were interwoven with one another, like the large fruit of a jack tree hanging by its stalk. He continued to hang there, feet upwards and head downwards. While he was in that posture, diverse other calamities overtook him. He beheld a large and mighty snake within the pit. He also saw a gigantic elephant near its mouth. That elephant, dark in complexion, had six faces and twelve feet. And the animal gradually approached that pit covered with creepers and trees. About the twigs of the tree (that stood at the mouth of the pit), roved many bees of frightful forms, employed from before in drinking the honey gathered in their comb about which they swarmed in large numbers. Repeatedly they desired, O bull of Bharatas race, to taste that honey which though sweet to all creatures could, however, attract children only. The honey (collected in the comb) fell in many jets below. The person who was hanging in the pit continually drank those jets. Employed, in such a distressful situation, in drinking that honey, his thirst, however, could not be appeased. Unsatiated with repeated draughts, the person desired for more. Even then, O king, he did not become indifferent to life. Even there, the man continued to hope for existence. A number of black and white rats were eating away the roots of that tree. There was fear from the beasts of prey, from that fierce woman on the outskirts of that forest, from that snake at the bottom of the well, from that elephant near its top, from the fall of the tree through the action of the rats, and lastly from those bees flying about for tasting the honey. In that plight he continued to dwell, deprived of his senses, in that wilderness, never losing at any time the hope of prolonging his life.'" 6 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Alas, great was the distress of that person and very painful his mode of life! Tell me, O first of speakers, whence was his attachment to life and whence his happiness? Where is that region, so unfavourable to the practice of virtue, in which that person resides? Oh, tell me how will that man be freed from all those great terrors? Tell me all this! We shall then exert ourselves properly for him. My compassion has been greatly moved by the difficulties that lie in the way of his rescue!' "Vidura said, 'They that are conversant, O monarch, with the religion of moksha cite this as a simile. Understanding this properly, a person may attain to bliss in the regions hereafter. That which is described as the wilderness is the great world. The inaccessible forest within it is the limited sphere of one's own life. Those that have been mentioned as beasts of prey are the diseases (to which we are subject). That woman of gigantic proportions residing in the forest is identified by the wise with Decrepitude which destroys complexion and beauty. That which has been spoken of as the pit is the body or physical frame of embodied creatures. The huge snake dwelling in the bottom of that pit is time, the destroyer of all embodied creatures. It is, indeed, the universal destroyer. The cluster of creepers growing in that pit and attached to whose spreading stems the man hangeth down is the desire for life which is cherished by every creature. The six-faced elephant, O king, which proceeds towards the tree standing at the mouth of the pit is spoken of as the year. Its six faces are the seasons and its twelve feet are the twelve months. The rats and the snakes that are cutting off the tree are said to be days and nights that are continually lessening the periods of life of all creatures. Those that have been described as bees are our desires. The numerous jets that are dropping honey are the pleasures derived from the gratification of our desires and to which men are seen to be strongly addicted. The wise know life's course to be even such. Through that knowledge they succeed in tearing off its bonds.'" 7 "Dhritarashtra said, 'Excellent is this parable that thou hast recited! Indeed, thou art acquainted with truth! Having listened to thy nectarlike speech, I desire to hear thee more.' "Vidura said, 'Listen to me, O king, I shall once more discourse in detail on those means an acquaintance with which enable the wise to free themselves from the ties of the world. As a person, O king, who has to travel a long way is sometimes obliged to halt when fatigued with toil, even so, O Bharata, they that are of little intelligence, travelling along the extended way of life, have to make frequent halts in the shape of repeated births in the womb. They, however, that are wise are free from that obligation. Men conversant with the scriptures, for this, describe life's course as a long way. The wise also call life's round with all its difficulties a forest. Creatures, O bull of Bharata's race, whether mobile or immobile, have to repeatedly return to the world. The wise alone escape. The diseases, mental and physical, to which mortals are subject, whether visible or invisible, are spoken of as beasts of prey by the wise. Men are always afflicted and impeded by them, O Bharata! Then again, those fierce beasts of prey, represented by their own acts in life, never cause any anxiety to them that are of little intelligence. If any person, O monarch, somehow escapes from diseases, Decrepitude, that destroyer of beauty, overwhelms him afterwards. Plunged in a slough by the objects of the different senses--sound and form and taste and touch and scent--man remains there without anything to rescue him thence. Meanwhile, the years, the seasons, the months, the fortnights, the days, and the nights, coming one after another, gradually despoil him of beauty and lessen the period allotted to him. These all are messengers of death. They, however, that are of little understanding know them not to be such. The wise say that all creatures are governed by the Ordainer through their acts. The body of a creature is called the car. The living principle is the driver of (that car). The senses are said to be steeds. Our acts and the understanding are the traces. He who followeth after those running steeds has to come repeatedly to this world in a round of rebirths. He, however, who, being self-restrained restrains them by his understanding hath not to come back. They, however, that are not stupefied while wandering in this wheel of life that is revolving like a real wheel, do not in reality wander in a round of rebirths. He that is wise should certainly take care to prevent the obligation of rebirth. One should not be indifferent to this, for indifference may subject us to it repeatedly. The man, O king, who has restrained his senses and subdued wrath and covetousness, who is contented, and truthful in speech, succeeds in obtaining peace. This body is called the car of Yama. Then those that are of little intelligence are stupefied by it. Such a person, O king, would obtain that which thou hast obtained. The loss of kingdom, of friends, and of children, O Bharata, and such as these, overtake him who is still under the influence of desire. He that is wise should apply the medicine of intelligence to all great griefs. Indeed, obtaining the medicine of wisdom, which is truly very efficacious and is almost unattainable, the man of restrained soul would kill that serious disease called sorrow. Neither prowess, nor wealth, nor friends, nor well-wishers can cure a man of his grief so effectually as the self-restrained soul. Therefore, observant of the great duty of abstention from all injuries, or friendship for all creatures, be of pious behaviour, O Bharata! Self-restraint, renunciation, and heedfulness are the three steeds of Brahman. He who rides on the car of his soul, unto which are yoked these steeds with the aid of traces furnished by good conduct, and drives it, casting off all fear of death, proceedeth, O king, to the regions of Brahman. That person, O monarch, who gives unto all creatures an assurance of his harmlessness, goes to the highest of regions, the blessed realm of Vishnu. The fruit that one obtains by an assurance unto all creatures of his harmlessness cannot be obtained by a 1,000 sacrifices or by daily fasts. Amongst all things there is certainly nothing dearer than self. Death is certainly disliked by all creatures, O Bharata! Therefore, compassion should certainly be shown unto all. Endued with diverse kinds of errors entangled by the net of their own intelligence, they that are wicked and are of good vision, wander repeatedly on the earth. They however, that are wise and endued with subtle sight, attain to a union with Brahman.'" 8 Vaishampayana said, "Even after hearing the words of Vidura, the chief of the Kurus, afflicted with grief on account of the death of his sons, fell down senseless on the Earth. Beholding him fall down in that state, his friends, as also the island-born Vyasa, and Vidura, and Sanjaya, and other well-wishers, and the attendants who used to wait at the gates and who enjoyed his confidence, sprinkled cool water over his body, and fanned him with palm leaves, and gently rubbed him with their hands. For a long while they comforted the king while in that condition. The monarch, recovering his senses after a long time, wept for a long while, overwhelmed with grief on account of the death of his sons. He said, 'Fie on the state of humanity! Fie on the human body! The woes that are suffered in this life frequently arise from the very state of humanity. Alas, O lord, great is the grief, like poison or fire, that one suffers at the loss of sons, of wealth, of kinsmen, and relatives. That grief causes the limbs to burn and our wisdom to be destroyed. Overwhelmed with that grief, a person regards death to be preferable. This calamity that has overtaken me through ill-luck is even like that. It will not, I see, end except with life itself. O best of regenerate ones, I shall, therefore, put an end to my life this very day.' Having said these words unto his high-souled sire, that foremost of all persons conversant with Brahman, Dhritarashtra, overwhelmed with grief, became stupefied. The king, O monarch reflecting on his woes, became speechless. Hearing these words of his, the puissant Vyasa thus spoke unto his son afflicted with grief on account of the death of his children. "Vyasa said, 'O mighty-armed Dhritarashtra, listen to what I say. Thou art possessed of learning, thou hast great intelligence, and thou, O puissant one, art skilled in understanding duties. Nothing of that which should be known is unknown to thee, O scorcher of foes! Without doubt, thou knowest the instability of all things doomed to death. When the world of life is unstable, when this world itself is not eternal, when life is sure to end in death, why then, O Bharata, dost thou grieve? Before thy very eyes, O king, the concatenation of facts brought about by Time making thy son the cause, produced this hostility. This destruction of the Kurus, O king, was inevitable. Why then dost thou grieve for those heroes that have attained to the highest end? O thou of mighty arms, the high-souled Vidura knew everything. With all his might he had endeavoured, O king, to bring about peace. It is my opinion that the course marked out by Destiny cannot be controlled by anyone, even if one struggles for eternity. The course that was settled by the gods was heard directly by me. I will recite it to thee, so that tranquillity of mind may be thine. Once before, without any fatigue, I repaired very quickly to the court of Indra. There I beheld all the denizens of heaven assembled together. There were, O sinless one, all the celestial Rishis also, headed by Narada. There, O monarch, I saw also the Earth (in her embodied form). The latter had repaired to the gods for the accomplishment of a particular mission. Approaching the gods, she said, "That which ye all should do for me hath, ye blessed ones, been already promised by you while you were in Brahma's abode. Let that be accomplished soon." Hearing these words of hers, Vishnu, the adored of all the worlds, smilingly addressed her in the midst of the celestial conclave, saying, "The eldest of the hundred sons of Dhritarashtra, who is known by the name of Duryodhana, will accomplish thy business. Through that king, thy purpose will be achieved. For his sake, many kings will assemble together on the field of Kuru. Capable of smiting, they will cause one another to be slain through the instrumentality of hard weapons. It is evident, O goddess, that thy burthen will then be lightened in battle. Go quickly to thy own place and continue to bear the weight of creatures, O beauteous one!" From this thou wilt understand, O king, that thy son Duryodhana, born in Gandhari's womb, was a portion of Kali, sprung for the object of causing a universal slaughter. He was vindictive, restless, wrathful, and difficult of being gratified. Through the influence of Destiny his brothers also became like him. Shakuni became his maternal uncle and Karna his great friend. Many other kings were born on earth for aiding in the work of destruction. As the king is, so do his subjects become. If the king becomes righteous, even unrighteousness (in his dominions) assumes the shape of righteousness. Servants, without doubt, are affected by the merits and defects of their masters. Those sons of thine, O king, having obtained a bad king, have all been destroyed. Conversant with truth, Narada, knew all this. Thy sons, through their own faults, have been destroyed, O king! Do not grieve for them, O monarch! There is no cause for grief. The Pandavas have not, O Bharata, the least fault in what has happened. Thy sons were all of wicked souls. It is they that caused this destruction on earth. Blessed be thou; Narada had truly informed Yudhishthira of all this in his court on the occasion of the rajasuya sacrifice, saying, "The Pandavas and the Kauravas, encountering each other, will meet with destruction. Do that, O son of Kunti, which thou shouldst!" Upon these words of Narada, the Pandavas became filled with grief. I have thus told thee that which is an eternal secret of the gods. This will destroy thy grief and restore to thee a love of thy life-breath, and cause thee to cherish affection for the Pandavas, for all that has happened has been due to what had been ordained by the gods. O thou of mighty arms, I had learnt all this sometime before. I also spoke of it to king Yudhishthira the just on the occasion of his foremost of sacrifices, the rajasuya. When I secretly informed him of all this, Dharma's son endeavoured his best for preserving peace with the Kauravas. That, however, which is ordained by the gods proved too powerful (to be frustrated by him). The fiat, O king of the Destroyer, is incapable of being baffled anyhow by mobile and immobile creatures. Thou art devoted to virtue and possessed of superior intelligence, O Bharata! Thou knowest also that which is the way and that which is not the way of all creatures. If king Yudhishthira learns that thou art burning with grief and losing thy senses frequently, he will cast off his very life-breath. He is always compassionate and possessed of wisdom. His kindness extends even to all the inferior creatures. How is it possible, O king, that he will not show compassion to thee, O monarch? At my command, and knowing that what is ordained is inevitable, as also from kindness to the Pandavas, continue to bear thy life, O Bharata! If thou livest thus, thy fame will spread in the world. Thou shalt then be able to acquire a knowledge of all duties and find many years for obtaining ascetic merit. This grief for the death of thy sons that has arisen in thy heart, like a blazing fire, should always be extinguished, O king, by the water of wisdom!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing these words of Vyasa of immeasurable energy and reflecting upon them for a little while, Dhritarashtra said, 'O best of regenerate ones, I am exceedingly afflicted by a heavy load of grief. My senses are repeatedly forsaking me and I am unable to bear up my own self. Hearing, however, these words of thine about what had been ordained by the gods, I shall not think of casting off my life-breath and shall live and act without indulging in grief!' Hearing these words of Dhritarashtra, O monarch, Satyavati's son, Vyasa, disappeared then and there." 9 Janamejaya said, "After the holy Vyasa had departed, what, O regenerate sage, did king Dhritarashtra, do? It behoveth thee to tell me this. What also did the Kuru king, the high-souled son of Dharma, do? And how did those three, Kripa and others, do? I have heard of the feats of Ashvatthama and the mutual denouncement of curses. Tell me what happened next and what Sanjaya next said (unto the old king)." Vaishampayana said, "After Duryodhana had been slain and all the troops slaughtered, Sanjaya, deprived of his spiritual sight, came back to Dhritarashtra. "Sanjaya said, 'The kings of diverse peoples, that came from diverse realms, have all, O king, gone to the regions of the dead, along with thy sons. Thy son, O king, who had constantly been implored (for peace) but who always wished to terminate his hostility (with the Pandavas by slaughtering them) has caused the earth to be exterminated. Do thou, O king, cause the obsequial rites of thy sons and grandsons and sires to be performed according to due order!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing these terrible words of Sanjaya, the king fell down on the Earth and lay motionless like one deprived of life. Approaching the monarch who was lying prostrate on the Earth, Vidura, conversant with every duty, said these words: 'Rise, O king, why dost thou lie down thus? Do not grieve, O bull of Bharata's race! Even this, O lord of Earth, is the final end of all creatures. At first creatures are non-existent. In the interim, O Bharata, they become existent. At the end, they once more become non-existent. What cause of sorrow is there in all this? By indulging in grief, one cannot get back the dead. By indulging in grief, one cannot die himself. When such is the course of the world, why dost thou indulge in grief? One may die without having been engaged in battle. One also escapes with life after being engaged in battle. When one's Time comes, O king, one cannot escape! Time drags all kinds of creatures. There is none dear or hateful to Time, O best of the Kurus! As the wind tears off the ends of all blades of grass, even so all creatures, O bull of Bharata's race, are brought by Time under its influence. All creatures are like members of the same caravan bound for the same destination. What cause of sorrow is there if Time meets with one a little earlier than with another? Those again, O king, that have fallen in battle and for whom thou grievest, are not really objects of thy grief, since all those illustrious ones have gone to heaven. By sacrifices with profuse presents, by ascetic austerities, and by knowledge, people cannot so easily repair to heaven as heroes by courage in battle. All those heroes were conversant with the Vedas; all of them were observant of vows; all of them have perished, facing the foe in battle. What cause of sorrow then is there? They poured their arrowy libations upon the bodies of their brave foes as upon a fire. Foremost of men, they bore in return the arrowy libations poured upon themselves. I tell thee, O king, that there is no better way to heaven for a Kshatriya than through battle. All of them were high-souled Kshatriyas, all of them were heroes and ornaments of assemblies. They have attained to a high state of blessedness. One should not grieve for them. Do thou comfort thy own self. Do not grieve, O bull among men! It behoveth thee not to suffer thyself to be overwhelmed with sorrow and abandon all action.'" 10 Vaishampayana said, "Hearing these words of Vidura, that bull of Bharata's race (Dhritarashtra) ordered his car to be yoked. The king once more said, 'Bring Gandhari hither without delay, and all the Bharata ladies. Bring hither Kunti also, as well as all the other ladies with her.' Having said these words unto Vidura, conversant with every duty, Dhritarashtra of righteous soul, deprived of his senses by sorrow, ascended on his car. Then Gandhari, afflicted with grief on account of the death of her sons, accompanied by Kunti and the other ladies of the royal household, came at the command of her lord to that spot where the latter was waiting for her. Afflicted with grief, they came together to the king. As they met, they accosted each other and uttered loud wails of woe. Then Vidura, who had become more afflicted than those ladies, began to comfort them. Placing those weeping fair ones on the cars that stood ready for them, he set out (with them) from the city. At that time a loud wail of woe arose from every Kuru house. The whole city, including the very children, became exceedingly afflicted with grief. Those ladies that had not before this been seen by the very gods were now helpless, as they were, for the loss of their lords, seen by the common people. With their beautiful tresses all dishevelled and their ornaments cast off, those ladies, each attired in a single piece of raiment, proceeded most woefully. Indeed, they issued from their houses resembling white mountains, like a dappled herd of deer from their mountain caves after the fall of their leader. These fair ladies, in successive bevies, O king, came out, filled with sorrow, and ran hither and thither like a herd of fillies on a circus yard. Seizing each other by the hand, they uttered loud wails after their sons and brothers and sires. They seemed to exhibit the scene that takes place on the occasion of the universal destruction at the end of the Yuga. Weeping and crying and running hither and thither, and deprived of their senses by grief, they knew not what to do. Those ladies who formerly felt the blush of modesty in the presence of even companions of their own sex, now felt no blush of shame, though scantily clad, in appearing before their mothers-in-law. Formerly they used to comfort each other while afflicted with even slight causes of woe. Stupefied by grief, they now, O king, refrained from even casting their eyes upon each other. Surrounded by those thousands of wailing ladies, the king cheerlessly issued out of the city and proceeded with speed towards the field of battle. Artisans and traders and Vaishyas and all kinds of mechanics, issuing out of the city, followed in the wake of the king. As those ladies, afflicted by the wholesale destruction that had overtaken the Kurus, cried in sorrow, a loud wail arose from among them that seemed to pierce all the worlds. All creatures that heard that wail thought that the hour of universal destruction had come when all things would be consumed by the fire that arises at the end of the Yuga. The citizens also (of Hastinapura), devoted to the house of Kuru, with hearts filled with anxiety at the destruction that had overtaken their rules, set up, O king, a wail that was as loud as that uttered by those ladies." 11 Vaishampayana said, "Dhritarashtra had not proceeded for more than two miles when he met with those three great car-warriors, Sharadvata's son Kripa, Drona's son (Ashvatthama), and Kritavarma. As soon as the latter obtained a sight of the blind monarch possessed of great power, the three heroes sighed in grief and with voices choked in tears weepingly addressed him, saying, 'Thy royal son, O king, having achieved the most difficult feats, has, with all his followers, gone to the region of Indra. We are the only three car-warriors of Duryodhana's army that have escaped with life. All the others, O bull of Bharata's race, have perished.' Having said these words unto the king, Sharadvatas son Kripa, addressing the grief-afflicted Gandhari, said these words unto her, 'Thy sons have fallen while engaged in achieving feats worthy of heroes, while fearlessly fighting in battle and striking down large numbers of foes. Without doubt, having obtained those bright worlds that are attainable only by the use of weapons, they are sporting there like celestials, having assumed resplendent forms. Amongst those heroes there was no one that turned back from battle. Every one of them has fallen at the end or edge of weapons. None of them joined his hands, begging for quarter. Death in battle at the end or edge of weapons has been said by the ancients to be the highest end that a Kshatriya can obtain. It behoveth thee not, therefore, to grieve for any of them. Their foes, O queen, the Pandavas, too, have not been more fortunate. Listen, what we, headed by Ashvatthama, have done unto them. Learning that thy son had been slain unrighteously by Bhima, we slaughtered the Pandavas after entering their camp buried in sleep. All the Pancalas have been slain. Indeed, all the sons of Drupada, as also all the sons of Draupadi, have been slaughtered. Having caused this carnage of the sons of our foes, we are flying away since we three are incapable of standing in battle with them. Our foes, the Pandavas, are all heroes and mighty bowmen. They will soon come up with us, filled with rage, for taking vengeance on us. Hearing the slaughter of their sons, those bulls among men, infuriated with rage, those heroes, O illustrious lady, will speedily pursue our track. Having caused a carnage (in their sleeping camp) we dare not stay. Grant us permission, O queen! It behoveth thee not to set thy heart on sorrow. Grant us thy permission also, O king! Summon all thy fortitude. Do thou also observe the duties of a Kshatriya in their highest form.' Having said these words unto the king, and circumambulating him, Kripa and Kritavarma and Drona's son, O Bharata, without being able to withdraw their eyes from king Dhritarashtra possessed of great wisdom, urged their steeds towards the banks of the Ganga. Moving away from that spot, O king, those great car-warriors, with hearts plunged in anxiety, took one another's leave and separated from one another. Sharadvata's son, Kripa, went to Hastinapura; Hridika's son repaired to his own kingdom; while the son of Drona set for the asylum of Vyasa. Even thus those heroes, who had offended the high-souled sons of Pandu, respectively proceeded to the places they selected, afflicted with fear and casting their eyes on one another. Having met the king thus, those brave chastisers of foes, before the sun rose, went away, O monarch, to the places they chose. It was after this, O king, that the sons of Pandu, those great car-warriors, encountered the son of Drona, and putting forth their prowess, vanquished him, O monarch, (in the way already related)." 12 Vaishampayana said, "After all the warriors had been slaughtered, king Yudhishthira the just heard that his uncle Dhritarashtra had set out from the city called after the elephant. Afflicted with grief on account of the death of his sons, Yudhishthira, O king, accompanied by his brothers, set out for meeting his uncle, filled with sorrow and overwhelmed with grief for the slaughter of his (hundred) sons. The son of Kunti was followed by the high-souled and heroic Krishna of Dasharha's race, and by Yuyudhana, as also by Yuyutsu. The princess Draupadi also, burning with grief, and accompanied by those Pancala ladies that were with her, sorrowfully followed her lord. Yudhishthira beheld near the banks of the Ganga, O king, the crowd of Bharata ladies afflicted with woe and crying like a flight of she-ospreys. The king was soon surrounded by those thousands of ladies who, with arms raised aloft in grief, were indulging in loud lamentations and giving expression to all kinds of words, agreeable and disagreeable: 'Where, indeed, is that righteousness of the king, where is truth and compassion, since he has slain sires and brothers and preceptors and sons and friends? How, O mighty-armed one, hath thy heart become tranquil after causing Drona, and thy grandsire Bhishma, and Jayadratha, to be slaughtered? What need hast thou of sovereignty, after having seen thy sires and brothers, O Bharata, and the irresistible Abhimanyu and the sons of Draupadi, thus slaughtered?' Passing over those ladies crying like a flight of she-ospreys, the mighty-armed king Yudhishthira the just saluted the feet of his eldest uncle. Having saluted their sire according to custom, those slayers of foes, the Pandavas, announced themselves to him, each uttering his own name. Dhritarashtra, exceedingly afflicted with grief on account of the slaughter of his sons, then reluctantly embraced the eldest son of Pandu, who was the cause of that slaughter. Having embraced Yudhishthira the just and spoken a few words of comfort to him, O Bharata, the wicked-souled Dhritarashtra sought for Bhima, like a blazing fire ready to burn everything that would approach it. Indeed, that fire of his wrath, fanned by the wind of his grief, seemed then to be ready to consume the Bhima-forest. Ascertaining the evil intentions cherished by him towards Bhima, Krishna, dragging away the real Bhima, presented an iron statue of the second son of Pandu to the old king. Possessed of great intelligence, Krishna had, at the very outset, understood the intentions of Dhritarashtra, and had, therefore, kept such a contrivance ready for baffling them. Seizing with his two arms that iron Bhima, king Dhritarashtra, possessed of great strength, broke into pieces, thinking it to be Bhima himself in flesh and blood. Endued with might equal to that of 10,000 elephants, the king reduced that statue into fragments. His own breast, however, became considerably bruised and he began to vomit blood. Covered with blood, the king fell down on the ground like a parijata tree topped with its flowery burden. His learned charioteer Sanjaya, the son of Gavalgana, raised the monarch and soothing and comforting him, said, 'Do not act so.' The king then, having cast off his wrath and returned to his normal disposition, became filled with grief and began to weep aloud, saying, 'Alas, oh Bhima, alas, oh Bhima!' Understanding that he was no longer under the influence of wrath, and that he was truly sorry for having (as he believed) killed Bhima, Vasudeva, that foremost of men, said these words, 'Do not grieve, O Dhritarashtra, for thou hast not slain Bhimasena! That is an iron statue, O king, which has been broken by thee! Understanding that thou wert filled with rage, O bull of Bharata's race, I dragged the son of Kunti away from within the jaws of Death. O tiger among kings, there is none equal to thee in strength of body. What man is there, O mighty-armed one, that would endure pressure of thy arms? Indeed, as no one can escape with life from an encounter with the Destroyer himself, even so no body can come out safe from within thy embrace. It was for this that yonder iron statue of Bhima, which had been caused to be made by thy son, had been kept ready for thee. Through grief for the death of thy sons, thy mind has fallen off from righteousness. It is for this, O great king, that thou seekest to slay Bhimasena. The slaughter of Bhima, however, O king, would do thee no good. Thy sons, O monarch, would not be revived by it. Therefore, do thou approve of what has been by us with a view to secure peace and do not set thy heart on grief!'" 13 Vaishampayana said, "Certain maid-servants then came to the king for washing him. After he had been duly washed, the slayer of Madhu again addressed him, saying, 'Thou hast, O king, read the Vedas and diverse scriptures. Thou hast heard all old histories, and everything about the duties of kings. Thou art learned, possessed of great wisdom, and indifferent to strength and weakness. Why then dost thou cherish such wrath when all that has overtaken thee is the result of thy own fault? I spoke to thee before the battle. Both Bhishma and Drona, O Bharata, did the same, as also Vidura and Sanjaya. Thou didst not, however, then follow our advice. Indeed, though exhorted by us, thou didst not yet act according to the counsels we offered, knowing that the Pandavas were superior to thee and thine, O Kauravya, in strength and courage. That king who is capable of seeing his own faults and knows the distinctions of place and time, obtains great prosperity. That person, however, who, though counselled by well-wishers, does not accept their words, good or bad, meets with distress and is obliged to grieve in consequence of the evil policy he pursues. Observe thou a different course of life now, O Bharata! Thou didst not keep thy soul under restraint, but suffered thyself to be ruled by Duryodhana. That which has come upon thee is due to thy own fault. Why then dost thou seek to slay Bhima? Recollecting thy own faults, govern thy wrath now. That mean wretch who had, from pride, caused the princess of Pancala to be brought into the assembly has been slain by Bhimasena in just revenge. Look at thy own evil acts as also at those of thy wicked-souled son. The sons of Pandu are perfectly innocent. Yet have they been treated most cruelly by thee and him.'" Vaishampayana continued, "After he had thus been told nothing but the truth by Krishna, O monarch, king Dhritarashtra replied unto Devaki's son, saying, 'It is even so, O thou of mighty arms! What thou sayest, O Madhava, is perfectly true. It is parental affection, O thou of righteous soul, that caused me to fall away from righteousness. By good luck, that tiger among men, the mighty Bhima of true prowess, protected by thee, came not within my embrace. Now, however, I am free from wrath and fever. I desire eagerly, O Madhava, to embrace that hero, the second son of Pandu. When all the kings have been dead, when my children are no more, upon the sons of Pandu depend my welfare and happiness.' Having said these words, the old king then embraced those princes of excellent frames, Bhima and Dhananjaya, and those two foremost of men, the two sons of Madri, and wept, and comforted and pronounced blessings upon them." 14 Vaishampayana said, "Commanded by Dhritarashtra, those bulls of Kuru's race, the Pandava brothers, accompanied by Keshava, then proceeded to see Gandhari. The faultless Gandhari, afflicted with grief on account of the death of her hundred sons, recollecting that king Yudhishthira the just had slain all his enemies, wished to curse him. Understanding her evil intentions towards the Pandavas, the son of Satyavati addressed himself for counteracting them at the very outset. Having cleansed himself by the sacred and fresh water of the Ganga, the great rishi, capable of proceeding everywhere at will with the fleetness of the mind, came to that spot. Capable of seeing the heart of every creature with his spiritual vision and with his mind directed towards it, the sage made his appearance there. Endued with great ascetic merit and ever intent on saying what was for the benefit of creatures, the rishi, addressing his daughter-in-law at the proper moment, said, 'Do not avail thyself of this opportunity for denouncing a curse. On the other hand, utilize it for showing thy forgiveness. Thou shouldst not be angry with the Pandavas, O Gandhari! Set thy heart on peace. Restrain the words that are about to fall from thy lips. Listen to my advice. Thy son, desirous of victory, had besought thee every day for the eighteen days that battle lasted, saying, "O mother, bless me who am fighting with my foes." Implored every day in these words by thy son desirous of victory, the answer thou always gavest him was, "Thither is victory where righteousness is!" I do not, O Gandhari, remember that any words spoken by thee have become false. Those words, therefore, that thou, implored by Duryodhana, saidst unto him, could not be false. Thou art always employed in the good of all creatures. Having without doubt reached the other shore in that dreadful battle of Kshatriyas, the sons of Pandu have certainly won the victory and a measure of righteousness that is much greater. Thou wert formerly observant of the virtue of forgiveness. Why wouldst thou not observe it now? Subdue unrighteousness, O thou that art conversant with righteousness. There is victory where righteousness is. Remembering thy own righteousness and the words spoken by thyself, restrain thy wrath, O Gandhari! Do not act otherwise, O thou that art beautiful in speech.' Hearing these words, Gandhari said, 'O holy one, I do not cherish any ill feelings towards the Pandavas, nor do I wish that they should perish. In consequence, however, of grief for the death of my sons, my heart is very much agitated. I know that I should protect the Pandavas with as much care as Kunti herself protects them, and that Dhritarashtra also should protect them as I should. Through the fault of Duryodhana and of Shakuni the son of Subala, and through the action of Karna and Duhshasana, extermination of the Kurus hath taken place. In this matter the slightest blame cannot attach to Vibhatsu or to Pritha's son Vrikodara, or to Nakula or Sahadeva, or to Yudhishthira himself. While engaged in battle, the Kauravas, swelling with arrogance and pride, have fallen along with many others (that came to their aid). I am not grieved at this. But there has been one act done by Bhima in the very presence of Vasudeva (that moves my resentment). The high-souled Vrikodara, having challenged Duryodhana to a dreadful encounter with mace, and having come to know that my son, while careering in diverse kinds of motion in the battle, was superior to him in skill, struck the latter below the navel. It is this that moves my wrath. Why should heroes, for the sake of their lives, cast off obligations of duty that have been determined by high-souled persons conversant with every duty?'" 15 Vaishampayana said, "Hearing these words of Gandhari, Bhimasena, looking like one in fright, said these words for soothing her, 'Be the act righteous or unrighteous, it was done by me through fear and for the object of protecting my own self. It behoveth thee therefore, to forgive me now. Thy mighty son was incapable of being slain by anybody in a fair and righteous battle. It was for this that I did what was unfair. Duryodhana himself had formerly vanquished Yudhishthira unrighteously. He used always to behave guilefully towards us. It was for this that I had recourse to an unfair act. Thy son was then the sole unslain warrior on his side. In order that that valiant prince might not slay me in the mace-encounter and once more deprive us of our kingdom, I acted in that way. Thou knowest all that thy son had said unto the princess of Pancala while the latter, in her season, was clad in a single piece of raiment. Without having disposed of Suyodhana it was impossible for us to rule peacefully the whole earth with her seas. It was for this that I acted in that way. Thy son inflicted many wrongs on us. In the midst of the assembly he had shown his left thigh unto Draupadi. For that wicked behaviour, thy son deserved to be slain by us even then. At the command, however, of king Yudhishthira the just, we suffered ourselves to be restrained by the compact that had been made. By this means, O queen, thy son provoked deadly hostilities with us. Great were our sufferings in the forest (whither we were driven by thy son). Remembering all this, I acted in that way. Having slain Duryodhana in battle, we have reached the end of our hostilities. Yudhishthira has got back his kingdom, and we also have been freed from wrath.' Hearing these words of Bhima, Gandhari said, 'Since thou praisest my son thus (for his skill in battle), he did not deserve such a death. He, however, did all that thou tellest me. When Vrishasena, however, had deprived Nakula of his steeds, O Bharata, thou quaffedst in battle the blood from Duhshasana's body! Such an act is cruel and is censured by the good. It suits only a person that is most disrespectable. It was a wicked act, O Vrikodara, that was then accomplished by thee! It was undeserving of thee.' Bhima replied, saying, 'It is improper to quaff the blood of even a stranger, what then need be said about quaffing the blood of one's own self? One's brother, again, is like one's own self. There is no difference between them. The blood, however, (that I am regarded to have quaffed) did not, O mother, pass down my lips and teeth. Karna knew this well. My hands only were smeared with (Duhshasana's) blood. Seeing Nakula deprived of his steeds by Vrishasena in battle, I caused the rejoicing (Kaurava) brothers to be filled with dread. When after the match at dice the tresses of Draupadi were seized, I uttered certain words in rage. Those words are still in my remembrance, I would, for all years to come, have been regarded to have swerved from the duties of a Kshatriya if I had left that vow unaccomplished. It was for this, O queen, that I did that act. It behoveth thee not, O Gandhari, to impute any fault to me. Without having restrained thy sons in former days, doth it behove thee to impute any fault to our innocent selves?' "Gandhari said, 'Unvanquished by anyone, thou hast slain a hundred sons of this old man. Oh, why didst thou not spare, O child, even one son of this old couple deprived of kingdom, one whose offences were lighter? Why didst thou not leave even one crutch for this blind couple? O child, although thou livest unharmed, having slain all my children, yet no grief would have been mine if thou hadst adopted the path of righteousness (in slaying them).'" Vaishampayana continued, "Having said these words, Gandhari, filled with wrath at the slaughter of all her sons and grandsons, enquired after Yudhishthira, saying, 'Where is the king?' After she had said these words king Yudhishthira, trembling and with joined hands, approached her and said these soft words unto her, 'Here is Yudhishthira, O goddess, that cruel slayer of thy sons! I deserve thy curses, for I am the cause of this universal destruction. Oh, curse me! I have no longer any need for life, for kingdom, for wealth! Having caused such friends to be slain, I have proved myself to be a great fool and a hater of friends.' Unto Yudhishthira who spoke such words, who was overcome with fear, and who stood in her presence, Gandhari, drawing long sighs, said nothing. Conversant with the rules of righteousness, the Kuru queen, possessed of great foresight, directed her eyes, from within the folds of the cloth that covered them, to the tip of Yudhishthira's toe, as the prince, with body bent forwards, was about to fall down at her feet. At this, the king, whose nails had before this been all very beautiful, came to have a sore nail on his toe. Beholding this, Arjuna moved away to the rear of Vasudeva, and the other sons of Pandu became restless and moved from one spot to another. Gandhari then, having cast off her wrath, comforted the Pandavas as a mother should. Obtaining her leave, those heroes of broad chests then proceeded together to present themselves to their mother, that parent of heroes. Having seen her sons after a long time, Kunti, who had been filled with anxiety on their account, covered her face with her cloth and began to weep. Having wept for some time with her children, Pritha beheld the wounds and scars of many weapons on their bodies. She then repeatedly embraced and patted each of her sons, and afflicted with grief wept with Draupadi who had lost all her children and whom she saw lying on the bare earth, indulging in piteous lamentations. "Draupadi said, 'O venerable dame, where have all your grandsons, with Abhimanyu among them, gone? Beholding thee in such distress, why are they delaying in making their appearance before thee? Deprived as I am of my children, what need have I of kingdom?' Raising the grief-stricken princess of Pancala who was weeping thus, Pritha began to comfort that lady of large eyes. Then Kunti, accompanied by the princess of Pancala and followed by her sons, proceeded towards the grief-afflicted Gandhari herself in greater affliction still. Beholding that illustrious lady with her daughter-in-law, Gandhari addressed her, saying, 'Do not, O daughter, grieve so. Behold, I too am as much stricken with grief as thou. I think this universal destruction has been brought about by the irresistible course of Time. Inevitable as it was, this dreadful slaughter has not been due to the voluntary agency of human beings. Even that has come to pass which Vidura of great wisdom foretold after Krishna's supplication for peace had failed. Do not, therefore, grieve, in a matter that was inevitable, especially after its occurrence. Having fallen in battle, they should not be grieved for. I am in the same predicament with thee. (If thou actest in such a way) who then will comfort us? Through my fault, this foremost of races has been destroyed.'" Here ends the Jalapradanika-parva in the Stri-parva. 16 (Stri-vilapa-parva) Vaishampayana said, "Having said these words, Gandhari, though staying on that spot which was distant from the field of battle, beheld, with her spiritual eye, the slaughter of the Kurus. Devoted to her lord, that highly blessed lady had always practised high vows. Undergoing the severest penances, she was always truthful in her speech. In consequence of the gift of the boon by the great rishi Vyasa of sanctified deeds, she became possessed of spiritual knowledge and power. Piteous were the lamentations in which that dame then indulged. Endued with great intelligence, the Kuru dame saw, from a distance, but as if from a near point, that field of battle, terrible to behold and full of wonderful sights, of those foremost of fighters. Scattered all over with bones and hair, and covered with streams of blood, that field was strewn with thousands upon thousands of dead bodies on every side. Covered with the blood of elephants and horses and car-warriors and combatants of other kinds, it teemed with headless trunks and trunkless heads. And it resounded with the cries of elephants and steeds and men and women and abounded with jackals and cranes and ravens and kankas and crows. And it was the sporting ground of Rakshasas subsisting on human flesh. And it swarmed with ospreys and vultures and resounded with the inauspicious howls of jackals. Then king Dhritarashtra, at the command of Vyasa, and all the sons of Pandu with Yudhishthira at their head, with Vasudeva and all the Kuru ladies, proceeded to the field of battle. Those ladies, bereaved of their lords, having reached Kurukshetra, beheld their slain brothers and sons and sires and husbands lying on the ground, and in course of being devoured by beasts of prey and wolves and ravens and crows and ghosts and Pishacas and Rakshasas and diverse other wanderers of the night. Beholding that carnage which resembled the sights seen on the sporting ground of Rudra, the ladies uttered loud shrieks and quickly alighted from their costly vehicles. Witnessing sights the like of which they had never before witnessed, the Bharata ladies felt their limbs to be deprived of strength and fell down on the ground. Others became so stupefied that they lost all their senses. Indeed, the Pancala and the Kuru ladies were plunged into unutterable distress. Beholding that dreadful field of battle resounding on every direction with the cries of those grief-stricken ladies, the daughter of Subala, acquainted with every duty, addressed the lotus-eyed Keshava, that foremost of all men. Witnessing that universal slaughter of the Kurus and filled with grief at the sight, she said these words: 'Behold, O lotus-eyed Madhava, these daughters-in-law of mine! Deprived of their lords, they are uttering, with dishevelled hair, piteous cries of woe like a flight of she-ospreys. Meeting with those dead bodies, they are calling back to their memories the great Bharata chiefs. They are running hither and thither in large bands towards their sons and brothers and sires and husbands. Behold, O mighty-armed one, the field is covered with mothers of heroes, all of whom, however, have been bereaved of children. There, those portions again are covered with spouses of heroes, who have, however, been bereaved of their spouses! Behold, the field of battle is adorned with those tigers among men, Bhishma and Karna and Abhimanyu and Drona and Drupada and Shalya, as if with blazing fires. Behold, it is adorned also with the golden coats of mail, and with the costly gems, of high-souled warriors, and with their angadas, and keyuras and garlands. Behold, it is strewn with darts and spiked clubs hurled by heroic hands, and swords and diverse kinds of keen shafts and bows. Beasts of prey, assembled together, are standing or sporting or lying down as it likes them! Behold, O puissant hero, the field of battle is even such. At this sight, O Janardana, I am burning with grief. In the destruction of the Pancalas and the Kurus, O slayer of Madhu, I think, the five elements (of which everything is made) have been destroyed. Fierce vultures and other birds, in thousands, are dragging those blood-dyed bodies, and seizing them by their armour, are devouring them. Who is there that could think of the death of such heroes as Jayadratha and Karna and Drona and Bhishma and Abhimanyu? Alas, though incapable of being slain, they have yet been slain, O destroyer of Madhu! Behold, vultures and Kankas and ravens and hawks and dogs and jackals are feasting upon them. There, those tigers among men, that fought on Duryodhana's side, and took the field in wrath, are now lying like extinguished fires. All of them are worthy of sleeping on soft and clean beds. But, alas, plunged into distress, they are sleeping today on the bare ground. Bards reciting their praises used to delight them before at proper times. They are now listening to the fierce and inauspicious cries of jackals. Those illustrious heroes who used formerly to sleep on costly beds with their limbs smeared with sandal paste and powdered aloe, alas, now sleep on the dust! These vultures and wolves and ravens have now become their ornaments. Repeatedly uttering inauspicious and fierce cries those creatures are now dragging their bodies. Delighting in battle, those heroes, looking cheerful, have still beside them their keen shafts, well-tempered swords, and bright maces, as if life has not yet departed from them. Many foremost of heroes, possessed of beauty and fair complexions and adorned with garlands of gold, are sleeping on the ground. Behold, beasts of prey are dragging and tearing them. Others, with massive arms, are sleeping with maces in their embrace, as if those were beloved wives. Others, still cased in armour, are holding in their hands their bright weapons. Beasts of prey are not mangling them, O Janardana, regarding them to be still alive. The beautiful garlands of pure gold on the necks of other illustrious heroes, as the latter are being dragged by carnivorous creatures, are scattered about on every side. There, those fierce wolves, numbering in thousands, are dragging the golden chains round the necks of many illustrious heroes stilled by death. Many, whom bards well-trained to their work formerly used, with their hymns and eulogies of grave import, to delight every morning, are now surrounded by fair ladies stricken with grief and weeping and crying around them in woe, O tiger of Vrishni's race! The faces of those beautiful ladies, O Keshava, though pale, look resplendent still, like an assemblage of red lotuses! Those Kuru ladies have ceased to weep, with their respective followers and companions. They are all filled with anxiety. Overwhelmed with sorrow, they are running hither and thither. The faces of those fair ones have, with weeping and anger, become resplendent as the morning sun or gold or burnished copper. Hearing each other's lamentations of incomplete sense, those ladies, in consequence of the loud wails of woe bursting from every side, are unable to catch each other's meaning. Some amongst them, drawing long sighs and indulging in repeated lamentations, are stupefied by grief and are abandoning their life-breaths. Many of them, beholding the bodies (of their sons, husbands, or sires), are weeping and setting up loud wails. Others are striking their heads with their own soft hands. The earth, strewn with severed heads and hands and other limbs mingled together and gathered in large heaps, looks resplendent with these signs of havoc! Beholding many headless trunks of great beauty, and many heads without trunks, those fair ones have been lying senseless on the ground for a long while. Uniting particular heads with particular trunks, those ladies, senseless with grief, are again discovering their mistakes and saying, "This is not this ones," and are weeping more bitterly! Others, uniting arms and thighs and feet, cut off with shafts, are giving way to grief and losing their senses repeatedly (at the sight of the restored forms). Some amongst the Bharata ladies, beholding the bodies of their lords,--bodies that have been mangled by animals and birds and severed of their heads,--are not succeeding in recognising them. Others, beholding their brothers, sires, sons, and husbands slain by foes, are, O destroyer of Madhu, striking their heads with their own hands. Miry with flesh and blood, the Earth has become impassable with arms still holding swords in their grasp, and with heads adorned with earrings. Beholding the field strewn with their brothers and sires, and sons, those faultless ladies, who had never before suffered the least distress, are now plunged into unutterable woe. Behold, O Janardana, those numerous bevies of Dhritarashtra's daughters-in-law, resembling successive multitudes of handsome fillies adorned with excellent manes! What, O Keshava, can be a sadder spectacle for me to behold than that presented by those ladies of fair forms who have assumed such an aspect? Without doubt, I must have perpetrated great sins in my former lives, since I am beholding, O Keshava, my sons and grandsons and brothers all slain by foes.' While indulging in such lamentations in grief, Gandhari's eyes fell upon her son (Duryodhana)." 17 Vaishampayana said, "Beholding Duryodhana, Gandhari, deprived of her senses by grief, suddenly fell down on the earth like an uprooted plantain tree. Having regained her senses soon, she began to weep, repeatedly uttering loud wails at the sight of her son lying on the bare ground, covered with blood. Embracing her son, Gandhari indulged in piteous lamentations for him. Stricken with grief, and with senses exceedingly agitated, the Kuru queen exclaimed, 'Alas, O son! Alas, O son!' Burning with sorrow, the queen drenched with her tears the body of her son, possessed of massive and broad shoulders, and adorned with garlands and collar. Addressing Hrishikesha who stood near, she said, 'On the eve of this battle, O puissant one, that has exterminated this race, this foremost of kings, O thou of Vrishnis race, said unto me, "In this internecine battle, O mother, wish me victory!" When he had said these words, I myself, knowing that a great calamity had come upon us, told him even this, tiger among men, "Thither is victory where righteousness is. And since, son, thy heart is set on battle, thou wilt, without doubt, obtain those regions that are attainable by (the use of) weapons (and sport there) like a celestial." Even these were the words that I then said unto him. I did not then grieve for my son. I grieve, however, for the helpless Dhritarashtra bereaved of friends and kinsmen. Behold, O Madhava, my son, that foremost of warriors, wrathful, skilled in weapons, and irresistible in battle, sleeping on the bed of heroes. Behold the reverses brought about by Time. This scorcher of foes that used of old to walk at the head of all crowned persons now sleepeth on the dust. Without doubt, the heroic Duryodhana, when he sleeps on that bed which is the hero's hath obtained the most unattainable end. Inauspicious jackals are now delighting that prince asleep on the hero's bed, who was formerly delighted by the fairest of ladies sitting round him. He who was formerly encircled by kings vying with one another to give him pleasure, alas, he, slain and lying on the ground, is now encircled by vultures! He who was formerly fanned with beautiful fans by fair ladies is now fanned by (carnivorous) birds with flaps of their wings! Possessed of great strength and true prowess, this mighty-armed prince, slain by Bhimasena in battle, sleeps like an elephant slain by a lion! Behold Duryodhana, O Krishna, lying on the bare ground, covered with blood, slain by Bhimasena with his mace. That mighty-armed one who had in battle assembled together eleven Akshauhinis of troops, O Keshava, hath, in consequence of his own evil policy, been now slain. Alas, there that great bowman and mighty car-warrior sleeps, slain by Bhimasena, like a tiger slain by a lion! Having disregarded Vidura, as also his own sire, this reckless, foolish, and wicked prince hath succumbed to death, in consequence of his disregard of the old. He who had ruled the earth, without a rival, for thirteen years, alas, that prince, that son of mine, sleepeth to-day on the bare ground, slain by his foes. Not long before, O Krishna, I beheld the Earth, full of elephants and kine and horses, ruled by Duryodhana! Today, O thou of mighty arms, I see her ruled by another, and destitute of elephants and kine and horses! What need have I, O Madhava, of life? Behold, again, this sight that is more painful than the death of my son, the sight of these fair ladies weeping by the side of the slain heroes! Behold, O Krishna, the mother of Lakshmana, that lady of large hips, with her tresses dishevelled, that dear spouse of Duryodhana, resembling a sacrificial altar of gold. Without doubt, this damsel of great intelligence, while her mighty-armed lord was formerly alive, used to sport within the embrace of her lords handsome arms! Why, indeed, does not this heart of mine break into a hundred fragments at the sight of my son and grandson slain in battle? Alas, that faultless lady now smells (the head of) her son covered with blood. Now, again, that lady of fair thighs is gently rubbing Duryodhana's body with her fair hand. At one time she is sorrowing for her lord and at another for her son. At one time she looketh on her lord, at another on her son. Behold, O Madhava, striking her head with her hands, she falls upon the breast of her heroic spouse, the king of the Kurus. Possessed of complexion like that of the filaments of the lotus, she still looketh beautiful like a lotus. The unfortunate princess now rubbeth the face of her son and now that of her lord. If the scriptures and the shrutis be true, without doubt, this king has obtained those regions (of blessedness) that one may win by the use of weapons!'" 18 "Gandhari said, 'Behold, O Madhava, my century of sons, incapable of fatigue (from exertion in battle), have all been slain by Bhimasena with his mace in battle! That which grieves me more today is that these my daughters-in-law, of tender years, deprived of sons and with dishevelled hair, are wandering on the field today. Alas, they who formerly walked only on the terraces of goodly mansions with feet adorned with many ornaments, are now, in great affliction of heart, obliged to touch with those feet of theirs this hard earth, miry with blood! Reeling in sorrow, they are wandering like inebriated persons, driving away vultures and jackals and crows with difficulty. Behold, that lady of faultless limbs and slender waist, seeing this terrible carnage, falleth down, overwhelmed with grief. Beholding this princess, this mother of Lakshmana, O thou of mighty arms, my heart is torn with grief. These beautiful ladies of fair arms, some seeing their brothers, some their husbands, and some their sons, lying down in death on the bare ground, are themselves falling down, seizing the arms of the slain. Listen, O unvanquished one, to the loud wails of those elderly ladies and those others of middle age at sight of this terrible carnage. Supporting themselves against broken boxes of cars and the bodies of slain elephants and steeds, behold, O thou of great might, those ladies, worn out with fatigue, are resting themselves. Behold, O Krishna, some one amongst them, taking up some kinsman's severed head decked with beautiful nose and earrings, is standing in grief. I think, O sinless one, that both those and myself of little understanding must have committed great sins in our former lives, since, O Janardana, all our relatives and kinsmen have thus been slain by king Yudhishthira the just! Our acts, righteous or unrighteous, cannot go for nothing, O thou of Vrishni's race! Behold, O Madhava, those young ladies of beautiful bosoms and abdomen, well-born, possessed of modesty, having black eye-lashes and tresses of the same colour on their heads, endued with voice sweet and dear like that of swans, are falling down, deprived of their senses in great grief and uttering piteous cries like flights of cranes. Behold, O lotus-eyed hero, their beautiful faces resembling full-blown lotuses, are scorched by the sun. Alas, O Vasudeva, the wives of my proud children possessed of prowess like that of infuriated elephants, are now exposed to the gaze of common people. Behold, O Govinda, the shields decked with hundred moons, the standards of solar effulgence, the golden coats of mail, and the collars and cuirasses made of gold, and the head-gears, of my sons, scattered on the earth, are blazing with splendour like sacrificial fires over which have been poured libations, of clarified butter. There, Duhshasana sleepeth, felled by Bhima, and the blood of all his limbs quaffed by that heroic slayer of foes. Behold that other son of mine, O Madhava, slain by Bhima with his mace, impelled by Draupadi and the recollection of his woes at the time of the match at dice. Addressing the dice-won princess of Pancala in the midst of the assembly, this Duhshasana, desirous of doing what was agreeable to his (elder) brother as also to Karna, O Janardana, had said, "Thou art now the wife of a slave! With Sahadeva and Nakula and Arjuna, O lady, enter our household now!" On that occasion, O Krishna, I said unto king Duryodhana, "O son, cast off (from thy side) the wrathful Shakuni. Know that thy maternal uncle is of very wicked soul and exceedingly fond of quarrel. Casting him off without delay, make peace with the Pandavas, O son! O thou of little intelligence, thinkest thou not of Bhimasena filled with wrath? Thou art piercing him with thy wordy shafts like a person striking an elephant with burning brands." Alas, disregarding my words, he vomitted his wordy poison at them, like a snake vomitting its poison at a bull,--at them who had already been pierced with his wordy darts. There, that Duhshasana sleepeth, stretching his two massive arms, slain by Bhimasena like a mighty elephant by a lion. The very wrathful Bhimasena perpetrated a most horrible act by drinking in battle the blood of his foe!'" 19 "Gandhari said, 'There, O Madhava, my son Vikarna, applauded by the wise, lieth on the bare ground, slain by Bhima and mangled horribly! Deprived of life, O slayer of Madhu, Vikarna lieth in the midst of (slain) elephants like the moon in the autumnal sky surrounded by blue clouds. His broad palm, cased in leathern fence, and scarred by constant wielding of the bow, is pierced with difficulty by vultures desirous of feeding upon it. His helpless young wife, O Madhava, is continually endeavouring, without success, to drive away those vultures desirous of feeding on carrion. The youthful and brave and handsome Vikarna, O bull among men, brought up in luxury and deserving of every kind of weal, now sleepeth amid the dust, O Madhava! Though all his vital parts have been pierced with clothyard shafts and bearded arrows and Nalikas, yet that beauty of person which was his hath not forsaken this best of the Bharatas. There, my son Durmukha, that slayer of large band of foes, sleepeth, with face towards the enemy, slain by the heroic Bhimasena in observance of his vow. His face, O Krishna, half-eaten away by beasts of prey, looketh more handsome, O child, even like the moon on the seventh day of the lighted fortnight. Behold, O Krishna, the face of that heroic son of mine, which is even such. How could that son of mine be slain by foes and thus made to eat the dust? O amiable one, how could that Durmukha, before whom no foe could stand, be slain by foes, O subjugator of celestial regions! Behold, O slayer of Madhu, that other son of Dhritarashtra, Citrasena, slain and lying on the ground, that hero who was the model of all bowmen? Those young ladies, afflicted with grief and uttering piteous cries, are now sitting, with beasts of prey, around his fair form adorned with wreaths and garlands. These loud wails of woe, uttered by women, and these cries and roars of beasts of prey, seem exceedingly wonderful to me, O Krishna! Youthful and handsome, and always waited upon and served by the most beautiful ladies, my son Vivingsati, O Madhava, sleepeth there, stained with dust. His armour hath been pierced with arrows. Slain in the midst of the carnage, alas, the heroic Vivingsati is now surrounded and waited upon by vultures! Having in battle penetrated the ranks of the Pandava army, that hero now lieth on the bed of a hero,--on the bed, that is, of an exalted Kshatriya! Behold, O Krishna, his very beautiful face, with a smile playing on it, adorned with excellent nose and fair eyebrows, and resembling the resplendent Moon himself! Formerly a large number of the most beautiful ladies used to wait upon him, like thousands of celestial girls upon a sporting gandharva. Who again could endure my son Duhsaha, that slayer of heroic foes, that hero, that ornament of assemblies, that irresistible warrior, that resister of foes? The body of Duhsaha, covered with arrows, looks resplendent like a mountain overgrown with flowering karnikaras. With his garland of gold and his bright armour, Duhsaha, though deprived of life, looks resplendent yet, like a white mountain of fire!'" 20 "Gandhari said, 'He whose might and courage were regarded, O Keshava, as a one and half times superior to those of his sire and thee, he who resembled a fierce and proud lion, he who, without a follower, alone pierced the impenetrable array of my son, he who proved to be the death of many, alas, he now sleepeth there, having himself succumbed to death! I see, O Krishna, the splendour of that son of Arjuna, of that hero of immeasurable energy, Abhimanyu, hath not been dimmed even in death. There, the daughter of Virata, the daughter-in-law of the wielder of Gandiva, that girl of faultless beauty overwhelmed with grief at sight of her heroic husband, is indulging in lamentations! That young wife, the daughter of Virata, approaching her lord, is gently rubbing him, O Krishna, with her hand. Formerly, that highly intelligent and exceedingly beautiful girl, inebriated with honeyed wines, used bashfully to embrace her lord, and kiss the face of Subhadra's son, that face which resembled a full-blown lotus and which was supported on a neck adorned with three lines like those of a conch-shell. Taking of her lord's golden coat of mail, O hero, that damsel is gazing now on the blood-dyed body of her spouse. Beholding her lord, O Krishna, that girl addresses thee and says, "O lotus-eyed one, this hero whose eyes resembled thine, hath been slain. In might and energy, and prowess also, he was thy equal, O sinless one! He resembled thee very much in beauty. Yet he sleeps on the ground, slain by the enemy!" Addressing her own lord, the damsel says again, "Thou wert brought up in every luxury. Thou usedst to sleep on soft skins of the ranku deer. Alas, does not thy body feel pain today by lying thus on the bare ground? Stretching thy massive arms adorned with golden angadas, resembling a couple of elephants trunks and covered with skin hardened by frequent use of the bow, thou sleepest, O lord, in peace, as if exhausted with the toil of too much exercise in the gymnasium. Alas, why dost thou not address me that am weeping so? I do not remember to have ever offended thee. Why dost thou not speak to me then? Formerly, thou usedst to address me even when thou wouldst see me at a distance. O reverend sir, whither wilt thou go, leaving behind thee the much-respected Subhadra, these thy sires that resemble the very celestials, and my own wretched self distracted with woe?" Behold, O Krishna, gathering with her hands the blood-dyed locks of her lord and placing his head on her lap, the beautiful damsel is speaking to him as if he were alive, "How couldst those great car-warriors slay thee in the midst of battle,--thee that art the sister's son of Vasudeva and the son of the wielder of Gandiva? Alas, fie on those warriors of wicked deeds, Kripa and Karna and Jayadratha and Drona and Drona's son, by whom thou wert deprived of life. What was the state of mind of those great car-warriors at that time when they surrounded thee, a warrior of tender years, and slew thee to my grief? How couldst thou, O hero, who had so many protectors, be slain so helplessly in the very sight of the Pandavas and the Pancalas? Beholding thee, O hero, slain in battle by many persons united together, how is that tiger among men, that son of Pandu, thy sire, able to bear the burden of life? Neither the acquisition of a vast kingdom nor the defeat of their foes conduces to the joy of the Parthas bereft of thee, O lotus-eyed one! By the practice of virtue and self-restraint, I shall very soon repair to those regions of bliss which thou hast acquired by the use of weapons. Protect me, O hero, when I repair to those regions. When one's hour does not come, one cannot die, since, wretched that I am, I still draw breath after seeing thee slain in battle. Having repaired to the region of the pitris, whom else, like me, dost thou address now, O tiger among men, in sweet words mingled with smiles? Without doubt, thou wilt agitate the hearts of the Apsaras in heaven, with thy great beauty and thy soft words mingled with smiles! Having obtained the regions reserved for persons of righteous deeds, thou art now united, O son of Subhadra, with the Apsaras! While sporting with them, recollect at times my good acts towards thee. Thy union with me in this world had, it seems, been ordained for only six months, for in the seventh, O hero, thou hast been bereft of life!" O Krishna, the ladies of the royal house of Matsya are dragging away the afflicted Uttara, baffled of all her purposes, while lamenting in this strain. Those ladies, dragging away the afflicted Uttara, themselves still more afflicted than that girl, are weeping and uttering loud wails at sight of the slain Virata. Mangled with the weapons and shafts of Drona, prostrate on the ground, and covered with blood, Virata is encompassed by screaming vultures and howling jackals and crowing ravens. Those black-eyed ladies, approaching the prostrate form of the Matsya king over which carnivorous birds are uttering cries of joy, are endeavouring to turn the body. Weakened by grief and exceedingly afflicted, they are unable to do what they intend. Scorched by the Sun, and worn out with exertion and toil, their faces have become colourless and pale. Behold also, O Madhava, those other children besides Abhimanyu--Uttara, Sudakshina the prince of the Kambhojas, and the handsome Lakshmana--all lying on the field of battle!'" 21 "Gandhari said, 'There the mighty Karna, that great bowman, lieth on the ground! In battle he was like a blazing fire! That fire, however, hath now been extinguished by the energy of Partha. Behold, Vikartana's son Karna, after having slain many atirathas, has been prostrated on the bare ground, and is drenched with blood. Wrathful and possessed of great energy, he was a great bowman and a mighty car-warrior. Slain in battle by the wielder of Gandiva, that hero now sleepeth on the ground. My sons, those mighty car-warriors, from fear of the Pandavas, fought, placing Karna at their head, like a herd of elephants with its leader to the fore. Alas, like a tiger slain by a lion, or an elephant by an infuriated elephant, that warrior hath been slain in battle by Savyasaci. Assembled together, O tiger among men, the wives of that warrior, with dishevelled tresses and loud wails of grief, are sitting around that fallen hero! Filled with anxiety caused by the thoughts of that warrior, king Yudhishthira the just could not, for thirteen years, obtain a wink of sleep! Incapable of being checked by foes in battle like Maghavat himself who is invincible by enemies, Karna was like the all-destroying fire of fierce flames at the end of the yuga, and immovable like Himavat himself! That hero became the protector of Dhritarashtra's son, O Madhava! Alas, deprived of life, he now lieth on the bare ground, like a tree prostrated by the wind! Behold, the wife of Karna and mother of Vrishasena, is indulging in piteous lamentations and crying and weeping and falling upon the ground! Even now she exclaims, "Without doubt, thy preceptor's curse hath pursued thee! When the wheel of thy car was swallowed up by the Earth, the cruel Dhananjaya cut off thy head with an arrow! Alas, fie (on the heroism and skill)!" That lady, the mother of Sushena, exceedingly afflicted and uttering cries of woe, is falling down, deprived of her senses, at the sight of the mighty-armed and brave Karna prostrated on the earth, with his waist still encircled with a belt of gold. Carnivorous creatures, feeding on the body of that illustrious hero, have reduced it to very small dimensions. The sight is not gladdening, like that of the moon on the fourteenth night of the dark fortnight. Falling down on the earth, the cheerless dame is rising up again. Burning with grief on account of the death of her son also, she cometh and smelleth the face of her lord!'" 22 "Gandhari said, 'Slain by Bhimasena, behold, the lord of Avanti lies there! Vultures and jackals and crows are feeding upon that hero! Though possessed of many friends, he lies now perfectly friendless! Behold, O slayer of Madhu, having made a great slaughter of foes, that warrior is now lying on the bed of a hero, covered with blood. Jackals, and Kankas, and other carnivorous creatures of diverse kinds, are dragging him now. Behold the reverses brought about by Time. His wives, assembled together, and crying in grief, are sitting around that hero who in life was a terrible slayer of foes but who now lies on the bed of a hero. Behold, Pratipa's son Bahlika, that mighty bowman possessed of great energy, slain with a broad-headed shaft, is now lying on the ground like a sleeping tiger. Though deprived of life, the colour of his face is still exceedingly bright, like that of the moon at full, risen on the fifteenth day of the lighted fortnight! Burning with grief on account of the death of his son, and desirous of accomplishing his vow, Indra's son (Arjuna) hath slain there that son of Vriddhakshatra! Behold that Jayadratha, who was protected by the illustrious Drona, slain by Partha bent on accomplishing his vow, after penetrating through eleven Akshauhinis of troops. Inauspicious vultures, O Janardana, are feeding upon Jayadratha, the lord of the Sindhu-Sauviras, full of pride and energy! Though sought to be protected by his devoted wives, see, O Acyuta, carnivorous creatures are dragging his body away to a jungle in the vicinity. The Kamboja and Yavana wives of that mighty-armed lord of the Sindhus and the Sauviras are waiting upon him for protecting him (from the wild beasts). At that time, O Janardana, when Jayadratha, assisted by the Kekayas, endeavoured to ravish Draupadi, he deserved to be slain by the Pandavas! From regard, however, for Duhshala, they set him free on that occasion. Why, O Krishna, did they not show some regard for that Duhshala once more? That daughter of mine, of tender years, is now crying in grief. She is striking her body with her own hands and censuring the Pandavas. What, O Krishna, can be a greater grief to me than that my daughter of tender years should be a widow and all my daughters-in-law should become lordless. Alas, alas, behold, my daughter Duhshala, having cast off her grief and fears, is running hither and thither in search of the head of her husband. He who had checked all the Pandavas desirous of rescuing their son, after causing the slaughter of a vast force, at last himself succumbed to death. Alas, those wives of his, with faces as beautiful as the moon, are crying, sitting around that irresistible hero who resembled an infuriated elephant!'" 23 "Gandhari said, 'There lies Shalya, the maternal uncle himself of Nakula, slain in battle, O sire, by the pious and virtuous Yudhishthira! He used everywhere, O bull among men, to boast of his equality with thee! That mighty car-warrior, the ruler of the Madras, now lieth, deprived of life. When he accepted the drivership of Karna's car in battle, he sought to damp the energy of Karna for giving victory to the sons of Pandu! Alas, alas, behold the smooth face of Shalya, beautiful as the moon, and adorned with eyes resembling the petals of the lotus, eaten away by crows! There, the tongue of that king, of the complexion of heated gold, rolling out of his mouth, is, O Krishna, being eaten away by carnivorous birds! The ladies of the royal house of Madra, uttering loud wails of woe, are sitting around the body of that king, that ornament of assemblies, deprived of life by Yudhishthira! Those ladies are sitting around that fallen hero like a herd of she-elephants in their season around their leader sunk in a slough. Behold the brave Shalya, that giver of protection, that foremost of car-warriors, stretched on the bed of heroes, his body mangled with shafts. There, king Bhagadatta of great prowess, the ruler of a mountainous kingdom, the foremost of all wielders of the elephant-hook, lieth on the ground, deprived of life. Behold the garland of gold that he still wears on his head, looketh resplendent. Though the body is being eaten away by beasts of prey, that garland still adorns the fair locks on his head. Fierce was the battle that took place between this king and Partha, making the very hair stand on end, like that between Shakra and the Asura Vritra. This mighty-armed one, having fought Dhananjaya, the son of Pritha, and having reduced him to great straits, was at last slain by his antagonist. He who had no equal on earth in heroism and energy, that achiever of terrible feats in battle, Bhishma, lieth there, deprived of life. Behold the son of Shantanu, O Krishna, that warrior of solar effulgence, stretched on the earth, like the Sun himself fallen from the firmament at the end of the yuga. Having scorched his foes with the fire of his weapons in battle, that valiant warrior, that Sun among men, O Keshava, hath set like the real Sun at evening. Behold that hero, O Krishna, who in knowledge of duty was equal to Devapi himself, now lying on a bed of arrows, so worthy of heroes. Having spread his excellent bed of barbed and unbarbed arrows, that hero lieth on it like the divine Skanda on a clump of heath. Indeed, the son of Ganga lieth, resting his head on that excellent pillow, consisting of three arrows,--becoming complement of his bed--given him by the wielder of Gandiva. For obeying the command of his sire, this illustrious one drew up his vital seed. Unrivalled in battle, that son of Shantanu lieth there, O Madhava! Of righteous soul and acquainted with every duty, by the aid of his knowledge relating to both the worlds, that hero, though mortal, is still bearing his life like an immortal. When Shantanu's son lieth today, struck down with arrows, it seems that no other person is alive on earth that possesseth learning and prowess that is competent to achieve great feats in battle. Truthful in speech, this righteous and virtuous hero, solicited by the Pandavas, told them the means of his own death. Alas, he who had revived the line of Kuru that had become extinct, that illustrious person possessed of great intelligence, hath left the world with all the Kurus in his company. Of whom, O Madhava, will the Kurus enquire of religion and duty after that bull among men, Devavrata, who resembles a god, shall have gone to heaven? Behold Drona, that foremost of Brahmanas, that preceptor of Arjuna, of Satyaki, and of the Kurus, lying on the ground! Endued with mighty energy, Drona, O Madhava, was as conversant with the four kinds of arms as the chief of the celestials or Shukra of Bhrigu's race. Through his grace, Vibhatsu the son of Pandu, hath achieved the most difficult feats. Deprived of life, he now lies on the ground. Weapons refused to come (at last) at his bidding. Placing him at their head, the Kauravas had challenged the Pandavas. That foremost of all wielders of weapons was at last mangled with weapons. As he careered in battle, scorching his foes in every direction, his course resembled that of a blazing conflagration. Alas, deprived of life, he now lieth on the ground, like an extinguished fire. The handle of the bow is yet in his grasp. The leathern fences, O Madhava, still encase his fingers. Though slain, he still looketh as if alive. The four Vedas, and all kinds of weapons, O Keshava, did not abandon that hero even as these do not abandon the Lord Prajapati himself. His auspicious feet, deserving of every adoration and adored as a matter of fact by bards and eulogists and worshipped by disciples, are now being dragged by jackals. Deprived of her senses by grief, Kripi woefully attendeth, O slayer of Madhu, on that Drona who hath been slain by Drupada's son. Behold that afflicted lady, fallen upon the Earth, with dishevelled hair and face hanging down. Alas, she attendeth in sorrow upon her lifeless lord, that foremost of all wielders of weapons, lying on the ground. Many brahmacaris, with matted locks on their head, are attending upon the body of Drona that is cased in armour rent through and through, O Keshava, with the shafts of Dhrishtadyumna. The illustrious and delicate Kripi, cheerless and afflicted, is endeavouring to perform the last rites on the body of her lord slain in battle. There, those reciters of Samas, having placed the body of Drona on the funeral pyre and having ignited the fire with due rites, are singing the three (well-known) Samas. Those brahmacaris, with matted locks on their heads, have piled the funeral pyre of that Brahmana with bows and darts and car-boxes, O Madhava! Having collected diverse other kinds of shafts, that hero of great energy is being consumed by them. Indeed, having placed him on the pyre, they are singing and weeping. Others are reciting the three (well-known) Samas that are used on such occasions. Consuming Drona on that fire, like fire in fire, those disciples of his of the regenerate class are proceeding towards the banks of the Ganga, along the left side of the pyre and having placed Kripi at their head!'" 24 "Gandhari said, 'Behold the son of Somadatta, who was slain by Yuyudhana, pecked at and torn by a large number of birds! Burning with grief at the death of his son, Somadatta, O Janardana, (as he lies there) seems to censure the great bowman Yuyudhana. There the mother of Bhurishrava, that faultless lady, overcome with grief, is addressing her lord Somadatta, saying, "By good luck, O king, thou seest not this terrible carnage of the Bharatas, this extermination of the Kurus, this sight that resembles the scenes occurring at the end of the yuga. By good luck, thou seest not thy heroic son, who bore the device of the sacrificial stake on his banner and who performed numerous sacrifices with profuse presents to all, slain on the field of battle. By good luck, thou hearest not those frightful wails of woe uttered amidst this carnage by thy daughters-in-law like the screams of a flight of cranes on the bosom of the sea. Thy daughters-in-law, bereaved of both husbands and sons, are running hither and thither, each clad in a single piece of raiment and each with her black tresses all dishevelled. By good luck, thou seest not thy son, that tiger among men, deprived of one of his arms, overthrown by Arjuna, and even now in course of being devoured by beasts of prey. By good luck, thou seest not today thy son slain in battle, and Bhurishrava deprived of life, and thy widowed daughters-in-law plunged into grief. By good luck, thou seest not the golden umbrella of that illustrious warrior who had the sacrificial stake for the device on his banner, torn and broken on the terrace of his car. There the black-eyed wives of Bhurishrava are indulging in piteous lamentations, surrounding their lord slain by Satyaki. Afflicted with grief on account of the slaughter of their lords, those ladies, indulging in copious lamentations, are falling down on the earth with their faces towards the ground, and slowly approaching thee, O Keshava! Alas, why did Arjuna of pure deeds perpetrate such a censurable act, since he struck off the arm of a heedless warrior who was brave and devoted to the performance of sacrifices. Alas, Satyaki did an act that was still more sinful, for he took the life of a person of restrained soul while sitting in the observance of the praya vow. Alas, O righteous one, thou liest on the ground, slain unfairly by two foes." Even thus, O Madhava, those wives of Bhurishrava are crying aloud in woe. There, those wives of that warrior, all possessed of slender waists, are placing upon their laps the lopped off arm of their lord and weeping bitterly! "'"Here is that arm which used to invade the girdles, grind the deep bosoms, and touch the navel, the thighs, and the hips, of fair women, and loosen the ties of the drawers worn by them! Here is that arm which slew foes and dispelled the fears of friends, which gave thousands of kine and exterminated Kshatriyas in battle! In the presence of Vasudeva himself, Arjuna of unstained deeds, lopped it off thy heedless self while thou wert engaged with another in battle. What, indeed, wilt thou, O Janardana, say of this great feat of Arjuna while speaking of it in the midst of assemblies. What also will the diadem-decked Arjuna himself say of it?" Censuring thee in this way, that foremost of ladies hath stopped at last. The co-wives of that lady are piteously lamenting with her as if she were their daughter-in-law! "'There the mighty Shakuni, the chief of Gandharas, of prowess incapable of being baffled, hath been slain by Sahadeva, the maternal uncle by the sister's son! Formerly, he used to be fanned with a couple of gold-handed fans! Alas, now, his prostrate form is being fanned by birds with their wings! He used to assume hundreds and thousands of forms. All the illusions, however, of that individual possessed of great deceptive powers, have been burnt by the energy of the son of Pandu. An expert in guile, he had vanquished Yudhishthira in the assembly by his powers of deception and won from him his vast kingdom. The son of Pandu, however, hath now won Shakuni's life-breaths. Behold, O Krishna, a large number of birds is now sitting around Shakuni. An expert in dice, alas, he had acquired that skill for the destruction of my sons. This fire of hostility with the Pandavas had been ignited by Shakuni for the destruction of my children as also of himself and his followers and kinsmen. Like those acquired by my sons, O puissant one, by the use of weapons, this one too, however wicked-souled, has acquired many regions of bliss by the use of weapons. My fear, O slayer of Madhu, is that that crooked person may not succeed in fomenting dissensions even (there, the region attained by them) between my children, all of whom are confiding and possessed of candour!'" 25 "Gandhari said, 'Behold that irresistible ruler of the Kambojas, that bull-necked hero, lying amid the dust, O Madhava, though deserving of being stretched at his ease on Kamboja blankets. Stricken with great grief, his wife is weeping bitterly at sight of his blood-stained arms, which, however, formerly used to be smeared with sandal-paste. Indeed, the beauteous one exclaims, "Even now adorned with beautiful palms and graceful fingers, these two arms of thine resemble a couple of spiked maces, getting within whose clasp, joy never left me for a moment! What will be my end, O ruler of men, when I am deprived of thee?" Endued with a melodious voice, the Kamboja queen is weeping helplessly and quivering with emotion. Behold that bevy of fair ladies there. Although tired with exertion and worn out with heat, yet beauty leaves not their forms, like the sightliness of the wreaths worn by the celestials although exposed to the Sun. Behold, O slayer of Madhu, the heroic ruler of the Kalingas lying there on the ground with his mighty arms adorned with a couple of angadas. Behold, O Janardana, those Magadha ladies crying and standing around Jayatsena, the ruler of the Magadhas. The charming and melodious wails of those long-eyed and sweet-voiced girls, O Krishna, are stupefying my heart exceedingly. With all their ornaments displaced, crying, and afflicted with grief, alas, those ladies of Magadha, worthy of resting on costly beds, are now lying down on the bare ground! There, again, those other ladies, surrounding their lord, the ruler of the Kosalas, prince Brihadbala, are indulging in loud wails. Engaged in plucking from his body the shafts with which it was pierced by Abhimanyu with the full might of his arms, those ladies are repeatedly losing their senses. The faces of those beautiful ladies, O Madhava, through toil and the rays of the Sun, are looking like faded lotuses. There, the brave sons of Dhrishtadyumna, of tender years and all adorned with garlands of gold and beautiful angadas, are lying, slain by Drona. Like insects on a blazing fire, they have all been burnt by falling upon Drona, whose car was the chamber of fire, having the bow for its flame and shafts and darts and maces for its fuel. Similarly, the five Kekaya brothers, possessed of great courage, and adorned with beautiful angadas, are lying on the ground, slain by Drona and with their faces turned towards that hero. Their coats of mail, of the splendour of heated gold, and their tall standards and cars and garlands, all made of the same metal, are shedding a bright light on the earth like so many blazing fires. Behold, O Madhava, king Drupada overthrown in battle by Drona, like a mighty elephant in the forest slain by a huge lion. The bright umbrella, white in hue of the king of the Pancalas, shines, O lotus-eyed one, like the moon in the autumnal firmament. The daughters-in-law and the wives of the old king, afflicted with grief, having burnt his body on the funeral pyre, are proceeding, keeping the pyre to their right. There those ladies, deprived of their senses, are removing the brave and great bowman Dhrishtaketu, that bull among the Cedis, slain by Drona. This crusher of foes, O slayer of Madhu, this great bowman, having baffled many weapons of Drona, lieth there, deprived of life, like a tree uprooted by the wind. Alas, that brave ruler of the Cedis, that mighty car-warrior Dhrishtaketu, after having slain thousands of foes, lies himself deprived of life! There, O Hrishikesha, the wives of the ruler of the Cedis are sitting around his body still decked with fair locks and beautiful earrings, though torn by carnivorous birds. Those foremost of ladies placing upon their laps the prostrate form of the heroic Dhrishtaketu born of the Dasharha race, are crying in sorrow. Behold, O Hrishikesha, the son, possessed of fair locks and excellent earrings, of that Dhrishtaketu, hacked in battle by Drona with his shafts. He never deserted his sire while the latter battled with his foes. Mark, O slayer of Madhu, he does not, even in death, desert that heroic parent. Even thus, my son's son, that slayer of hostile heroes, the mighty-armed Lakshmana, hath followed his sire Duryodhana! Behold, O Keshava, the two brothers of Avanti, Vinda and Anuvinda, lying there on the field, like two blossoming shala trees in the spring overthrown by the tempest. Clad in golden armour and adorned with Angadas of gold, they are still armed with swords and bows. Possessed of eyes like those of a bull, and decked with bright garlands, both of them are stretched on the field. The Pandavas, O Krishna, with thyself, are surely unslayable, since they and thou have escaped from Drona, from Bhishma, from Karna the son of Vikartana, from Kripa, from Duryodhana, from the son of Drona, from the mighty car-warrior Jayadratha, from Somadatta, from Vikarna, and from the brave Kritavarma. Behold the reverses brought about by Time! Those bulls among men that were capable of slaying the very celestials by force of their weapons have themselves been slain. Without doubt, O Madhava, there is nothing difficult for destiny to bring about, since even these bulls among men, these heroes, have been slain by Kshatriya warriors. My sons endued with great activity were (regarded by me as) slain even then, O Krishna, when thou returnedst unsuccessfully to Upaplavya. Shantanu's son and the wise Vidura told me then, "Cease to bear affection for thy children!" The interviews of those persons could not go for nothing. Soon, O Janardana, have my sons been consumed into ashes!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Having said these words, Gandhari, deprived of her senses by grief, fell down on the earth! Casting off her fortitude, she suffered her senses to be stupefied by grief. Filled with wrath and with sorrow at the death of her sons, Gandhari, with agitated heart, ascribed every fault to Keshava. "Gandhari said, 'The Pandavas and the Dhartarashtras, O Krishna, have both been burnt. Whilst they were thus being exterminated, O Janardana, why wert thou indifferent to them? Thou wert competent to prevent the slaughter, for thou hast a large number of followers and a vast force. Thou hadst eloquence, and thou hadst the power (for bringing about peace). Since deliberately, O slayer of Madhu, thou wert indifferent to this universal carnage, therefore, O mighty-armed one, thou shouldst reap the fruit of this act. By the little merit I have acquired through waiting dutifully on my husband, by that merit so difficult to attain, I shall curse thee, O wielder of the discus and the mace! Since thou wert indifferent to the Kurus and the Pandavas whilst they slew each other, therefore, O Govinda, thou shalt be the slayer of thy own kinsmen! In the thirty-sixth year from this, O slayer of Madhu, thou shalt, after causing the slaughter of thy kinsmen and friends and sons, perish by disgusting means in the wilderness. The ladies of thy race, deprived of sons, kinsmen, and friends, shall weep and cry even as these ladies of the Bharata race!'" Vaishampayana continued, "Hearing these words, the high-souled Vasudeva, addressing the venerable Gandhari, said unto her these words, with a faint smile, 'There is none in the world, save myself, that is capable of exterminating the Vrishnis. I know this well. I am endeavouring to bring it about. In uttering this curse, O thou of excellent vows, thou hast aided me in the accomplishment of that task. The Vrishnis are incapable of being slain by others, be they human beings or gods or Danavas. The Yadavas, therefore shall fall by one another's hand.' After he of Dasharha's race had said these words, the Pandavas became stupefied. Filled with anxiety all of them became hopeless of life!" 26 "The holy one said, 'Arise, arise, O Gandhari, do not set thy heart on grief! Through thy fault, this vast carnage has taken place! Thy son Duryodhana was wicked-souled, envious, and exceedingly arrogant. Applauding his wicked acts, thou regardest them to be good. Exceedingly cruel, he was the embodiment of hostilities, and disobedient to the injunctions of the old. Why dost thou wish to ascribe thy own faults to me? Dead or lost, the person that grieves for what has already occurred, obtaineth more grief. By indulging in grief, one increases it two-fold. A woman of the regenerate class bears children for the practice of austerities; the cow brings forth offspring for bearing burdens; the mare brings forth her young for acquiring speed of motion; the Shudra woman bears a child for adding to the number of servitors; the Vaishya woman for adding to the number of keepers of cattle. A princess, however, like thee, brings forth sons for being slaughtered!'" Vaishampayana said, "Hearing these words of Vasudeva that were disagreeable to her, Gandhari, with heart exceedingly agitated by grief, remained silent. The royal sage Dhritarashtra, however, restraining the grief that arises from folly, enquired of Yudhishthira the just, saying, 'If, O son of Pandu, thou knowest it, tell me the number of those that have fallen in this battle, as also of those that have escaped with life!' "Yudhishthira answered, 'One billion 660 million and 20,000 men have fallen in this battle. Of the heroes that have escaped, the number is 240,165.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'Tell me, O mighty-armed one, for thou art conversant with everything, what ends have those foremost of men attained.' "Yudhishthira said, 'Those warriors of true prowess that have cheerfully cast off their bodies in fierce battle have all attained regions like those of Indra. Knowing death to be inevitable, they that have encountered it cheerlessly have attained the companionship of the Gandharvas. Those warriors that have fallen at the edge of weapons, while turning away from the field or begging for quarter, have attained the world of the guhyakas. Those high-souled warriors who, observant of the duties of Kshatriya-hood and regarding flight from battle to be shameful, have fallen, mangled with keen weapons, while advancing unarmed against fighting foes, have all assumed bright forms and attained the regions of Brahman. The remaining warriors, that have in anyhow met with death on the precincts of the field of battle, have attained the region of the Uttara-Kurus.' "Dhritarashtra said, 'By the power of what knowledge, O son, thou seest these things like one crowned with ascetic success? Tell me this, O mighty-armed one, if thou thinkest that I can listen to it without impropriety!' "Yudhishthira said, 'While at thy command I wandered in the forest, I obtained this boon on the occasion of sojourning to the sacred places. I met with the celestial rishi Lomasa and obtained from him the boon of spiritual vision. Thus on a former occasion I obtained second sight through the power of knowledge!' "Dhritarashtra said, 'It is necessary that our people should burn, with due rites, the bodies of both the friendless and the friended slain. What shall we do with those that have none to look after them and that have no sacred fires? The duties that await us are many. Who are those whose (last) rites we should perform? O Yudhishthira, will they obtain regions of blessedness by the merit of their acts, they whose bodies are now being torn and dragged by vultures and other birds?'" Vaishampayana continued, "Thus addressed, Kunti's son Yudhishthira of great wisdom commanded Sudharma (the priest of the Kauravas) and Dhaumya, and Sanjaya of the Suta order, and Vidura of great wisdom, and Yuyutsu of Kurus race, and all his servants headed by Indrasena, and all the other Sutas that were with him, saying, 'Cause the funeral rites of the slain, numbering by thousands, to be duly performed, so that nobody may perish for want of persons to take care of them!' At this command of king Yudhishthira the just, Vidura and Sanjaya and Sudharma and Dhaumya and Indrasena and others, procuring sandal, aloe and other kinds of wood used on such occasions, as also clarified butter and oil and perfumes and costly silken robes and other kinds of cloth, and large heaps of dry wood, and broken cars and diverse kinds of weapons, caused funeral pyres to be duly made and lighted and then without haste burnt, with due rites the slain kings in proper order. They properly burned upon those fires that blazed forth with libations of clarified butter in torrents over them, the bodies of Duryodhana and his hundred brothers, of Shalya, and king Bhurishrava; of king Jayadratha and Abhimanyu, O Bharata; of Duhshasana's son and Lakshmana and king Dhrishtaketu; of Vrihanta and Somadatta and the hundreds of Srinjayas; of king Kshemadhanva and Virata and Drupada; of Shikhandi the prince of Pancalas, and Dhrishtadyumna of Prishata's race; of the valiant Yudhamanyu and Uttamauja; of the ruler of the Kosalas, the sons of Draupadi, and Shakuni the son of Subala; of Acala and Vrishaka, and king Bhagadatta; of Karna and his son of great wrath; of those great bowmen, the Kekaya princes, and those mighty car-warriors, the Trigartas; of Ghatotkaca the prince of Rakshasas, and the brother of Vaka, of Alambusha, the foremost of Rakshasas, and king Jalasandha; and of hundreds and thousands of other kings. The pitri-medha rites in honour of some of the illustrious dead were performed there, while some sang Samas, and some uttered lamentations for the dead. With the loud noise of Samas and Riks, and the lamentations of the women, all creatures became stupefied that night. The funeral fires, smokeless and blazing brightly (amid the surrounding darkness), looked like luminous planets in the firmament enveloped by clouds. Those among the dead that had come from diverse realms and were utterly friendless were piled together in thousands of heaps and, at the command of Yudhishthira, were caused to be burnt by Vidura through a large number of persons acting coolly and influenced by good-will and affection, on pyres made of dry wood. Having caused their last rites to be performed, the Kuru king Yudhishthira, placing Dhritarashtra at his head, proceeded towards the river Ganga." 27 Vaishampayana said, "Arrived at the auspicious Ganga full of sacred water, containing many lakes, adorned with high banks and broad shores, and having a vast bed, they cast off their ornaments, upper garments, and belts and girdles. The Kuru ladies, crying and afflicted with great grief, offered oblations of water unto their sires and grandsons and brothers and kinsmen and sons and reverend seniors and husbands. Conversant with duties, they also performed the water-rite in honour of their friends. While those wives of heroes were performing this rite in honour of their heroic lords, the access to the stream became easy, although the paths (made by the tread of many feet) disappeared afterwards. The shores of the stream, though crowded with those spouses of heroes, looked as broad as the ocean and presented a spectacle of sorrow and cheerlessness. Then Kunti, O king, in a sudden paroxysm of grief, weepingly addressed her sons in these soft words, 'That hero and great bowman, that leader of leaders of car-divisions, that warrior distinguished by every mark of heroism, who hath been slain by Arjuna in battle, that warrior whom, ye sons of Pandu, ye took forth, Suta's child born of Radha, that hero who shone in the midst of his forces like the lord Surya himself, who battled with all of you and your followers, who looked resplendent as he commanded the vast force of the Duryodhana, who had no equal on earth for energy, that hero who preferred glory to life, that unretiring warrior firm in truth and never fatigued with exertion, was your eldest brother. Offer oblations of water unto that eldest brother of yours who was born of me by the god of day. That hero was born with a pair of earrings and clad in armour, and resembled Surya himself in splendour!' Hearing these painful words of their mother, the Pandavas began to express their grief for Karna. Indeed, they became more afflicted than ever. Then that tiger among men, the heroic Yudhishthira, sighing like a snake, asked his mother, 'That Karna who was like an ocean having shafts for his billows, his tall standard for his vortex, his own mighty arms for a couple of huge alligators, his large car for his deep lake, and the sound of his palms for his tempestuous roar, and whose impetuosity none could withstand save Dhananjaya, O mother, wert thou the authoress of that heroic being? How was that son, resembling a very celestial, born of thee in former days? The energy of his arms scorched all of us. How, mother, couldst thou conceal him like a person concealing a fire within the folds of his cloth? His might of arms was always worshipped by the Dhartarashtras even as we always worship the might of the wielder of Gandiva! How was that foremost of mighty men, that first of car-warriors, who endured the united force of all lords of earth in battle, how was he a son of thine? Was that foremost of all wielders of weapons our eldest brother? How didst thou bring forth that child of wonderful prowess? Alas, in consequence of the concealment of this affair by thee, we have been undone! By the death of Karna, ourselves with all our friends have been exceedingly afflicted. The grief I feel at Karna's death is a hundred times greater than that which was caused by the death of Abhimanyu and the sons of Draupadi, and the destruction of the Pancalas and the Kurus. Thinking of Karna, I am burning with grief, like a person thrown into a blazing fire. Nothing could have been unattainable by us, not excepting things belonging to heaven. Alas, this terrible carnage, so destructive of the Kurus, would not have occurred.' Copiously indulging in lamentations like these, king Yudhishthira the just uttered loud wails of woe. The puissant monarch then offered oblations of water unto his deceased elder brother. Then all the ladies that crowded the shores of the river suddenly sent up a loud wail of grief. The intelligent king of the Kurus, Yudhishthira, caused the wives and members of Karna's family to be brought before him. Of righteous soul, he performed, with them, the water-rite in honour of his eldest brother. Having finished the ceremony, the king with his senses exceedingly agitated, rose from the waters of Ganga." The end of Stri-parva. The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 12 SANTI PARVA Translated into English Prose from the Original Sanskrit Text by Kisari Mohan Ganguli [1883-1896] Scanned at sacred-texts.com, 2004. Proofed by John Bruno Hare, November 2004. THE MAHABHARATA SANTI PARVA SECTION I (Rajadharmanusasana Parva) Om! Having bowed down to Narayana, and Nara, the foremost of male beings, and unto the goddess Saraswati, must the word Jaya be uttered. "Vaisampayana said, 'Having offered oblations, of water unto all their friends and kinsmen, the sons of Pandu, and Vidura, and Dhritarashtra, and all the Bharata ladies, continued to dwell there (on the banks of the sacred stream). The high-souled sons of Pandu desired to pass the period of mourning,[1] which extended for a month, outside the Kuru city. After king Yudhishthira the just had performed the water-rites, many high-souled sages crowned with ascetic success and many foremost of regenerate Rishis came there to see the monarch. Among them were the Island-born (Vyasa), and Narada, and the great Rishi Devala, and Devasthana, and Kanwa. They were all accompanied by best of their pupils. Many other members of the regenerate order, possessed of wisdom and accomplished in the Vedas, leading lives of domesticity or belonging to the Snataka class, came to behold the Kuru king. Those high-souled ones, as they came, were duly worshipped by Yudhishthira. The great Rishis then took their seats on costly carpets. Accepting the worship suited to that period (of mourning and impurity) that was offered them, they sat in due order around the king. Thousands of Brahmanas offered consolation and comfort to that king of kings residing on the sacred banks of the Bhagirathi with heart exceedingly agitated by grief. Then Narada, after having accosted the Rishis with the Island-born for their first, in due time, addressed Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, saying, "Through the might of thy arms and the grace of Madhava, the whole Earth, O Yudhishthira, hath been righteously won by thee. By good luck, thou hast escaped with life from this dreadful battle. Observant as thou art of the duties of a Kshatriya, dost thou not rejoice, O son of Pandu? Having slain all thy foes, shalt thou not gratify thy friends, O king? Having obtained this prosperity, I hope, grief doth not afflict thee still." "'Yudhishthira said, "Indeed the whole Earth hath been subjugated by me through my reliance on the might of Krishna's arms, through the grace of the Brahmanas, and through the strength of Bhima and Arjuna. This heavy grief, however, is always sitting in my heart, viz., that through covetousness I have caused this dreadful carnage of kinsmen. Having caused the death of the dear son of Subhadra, and of the sons of Draupadi, this victory, O holy one, appears to me in the light of a defeat. What wilt Subhadra of Vrishni's race, that sister-in-law of mine, say unto me? What also will the people residing in Dwaraka say unto the slayer of Madhu when he goes thither from this place? This Draupadi, again, who is ever engaged in doing what is agreeable to us, bereaved of sons and kinsmen, is paining me exceedingly. This is another topic, O holy Narada, about which I will speak to thee. In consequence of Kunti having kept her counsels close in respect of a very important matter, great has been my grief. That hero who had the strength of ten thousand elephants, who in this world was an unrivalled car-warrior, who was possessed of leonine pride and gait, who was endued with great intelligence and compassion, whose liberality was very great, who practised many high vows, who was the refuge of the Dhartarashtras, who was sensitive about his honour, whose prowess was irresistible, who was ready to pay off all injuries and was always wrathful (in battle), who overthrew us in repeated encounters, who was quick in the use of weapons, conversant with every mode of warfare, possessed of great skill, and endued with wonderful valour (that Karna) was a son of Kunti, born secretly of her, and therefore, a uterine brother of ours. Whilst we were offering oblations of water unto the dead, Kunti spoke of him as the son of Surya. Possessed of every virtue, that child had been cast into the water. Having placed him in a basket made of light materials, Kunti committed him to the current of Ganga. He who was regarded by the world as a Suta's child born of Radha, was really the eldest son of Kunti and, therefore, our uterine brother. Covetous of kingdom, alas, I have unwittingly caused that brother of mine to be slain. It is this that is burning my limbs like a fire burning a heap of cotton. The white-steeded Arjuna knew him not for a brother. Neither I, nor Bhima, nor the twins, knew him for such. He, however, of excellent bow, knew us (for his brothers). We have heard that on one occasion Pritha went to him for seeking our good and addressed him, saying, 'Thou art my son!' That illustrious hero, however, refused to obey Pritha's wishes. Subsequently, we are informed, he said unto his mother these words, 'I am unable to desert Duryodhana in battle! If I do so, it would be a dishonourable, cruel, and ungrateful act. If, yielding to thy wishes, I make peace with Yudhishthira, people will say that I am afraid of the white-steeded Arjuna. Having vanquished Arjuna with Kesava, therefore, in battle, I will subsequently make peace with Dharma's son.' Even these were his words as we have heard. Thus answered, Pritha once more addressed her son of broad chest and said, 'Fight Phalguna then, but spare my four other sons.' The intelligent Karna, with joined hands, then replied unto his trembling mother, saying, 'If I get thy four other sons even under my power, I will not slay them. Without doubt, O goddess, thou shalt continue to have five sons. If Karna be slain with Arjuna, thou shalt have five! If, on the other hand, Arjuna be slain, thou shalt have five, numbering me.' Desirous of the good of her children, his mother once more said unto him, 'Go, O Karna, do good unto those brothers of thine whose good thou always seekest.' Having said these words, Pritha took his leave and came back to her abode. That hero has been slain by Arjuna,--the uterine brother by the brother! Neither Pritha, nor he, had ever disclosed the secret, O lord! That hero and great bowman was therefore slain by Arjuna in battle. Subsequently I have come to know, O best of regenerate ones, that he was my uterine brother. Indeed, at Pritha's words I have come to know that Karna was the eldest born! Having caused my brother to be slain, my heart is burning exceedingly. If I had both Karna and Arjuna for aiding me, I could have vanquished Vasudeva himself. Whilst I was tortured in the midst of the assembly by the wicked-souled sons of Dhritarashtra, my wrath, suddenly provoked, became cooled at sight of Karna. Even while listening to the harsh and bitter words of Karna himself on that occasion of our match at dice, to the words, that Karna uttered from desire of doing what was agreeable to Duryodhana, my wrath became cooled at sight of Karna's feet. It seemed to me that Karna's feet resembled the feet of our mother Kunti. Desirous of finding out the reason of that resemblance between him and our mother, I reflected for a long time. With even my best exertions I failed to find the cause. Why, indeed, did the earth swallow up the wheels of his car at the time of battle? Why was my brother cursed? It behoveth thee to recite all this to me. I desire to hear everything from thee, O holy one! Thou art acquainted with everything in this world and thou knowest both the past and the future!"'" SECTION II "Vaisampayana said, 'That foremost of speakers, the sage Narada, thus questioned, narrated everything about the manner in which he who was believed to be a Suta's son had been cursed (in former days).' "'Narada said, "It is even so, O mighty armed one, as thou sayest, O Bharata! Nothing could resist Karna and Arjuna in battle. This, O sinless one, that I am about to tell thee is unknown to the very gods. Listen to me, O mighty-armed one, as it befell in former days. How all the Kshatriyas, cleansed by weapons should attain to regions of bliss, was the question. For this, a child was conceived by Kunti in her maidenhood, capable of provoking a general war. Endued with great energy, that child came to have the status of a Suta. He subsequently acquired the science of weapons from the preceptor (Drona), that foremost descendant of Angirasa's race. Thinking of the might of Bhimasena, the quickness of Arjuna in the use of weapons, the intelligence of thyself, O king, the humility of the twins, the friendship, from earliest years, between Vasudeva and the wielder of Gandiva, and the affection of the people for you all, that young man burnt with envy. In early age he made friends with king Duryodhana, led by an accident and his own nature and the hate he bore towards you all. Beholding that Dhananjaya was superior to every one in the science of weapons, Karna one day approached Drona in private and said these words unto him, 'I desire to be acquainted with the Brahma weapon, with all its mantras and the power of withdrawing it, for I desire to fight Arjuna. Without doubt, the affection thou bearest to every one of thy pupils is equal to what thou bearest to thy own son. I pray that all the masters of the science of weapons may, through thy grace, regard me as one accomplished in weapons!' Thus addressed by him, Drona, from partiality for Phalguna, as also from his knowledge of the wickedness of Karna, said, 'None but a Brahmana, who has duly observed all vows, should be acquainted with the Brahma weapon, or a Kshatriya that has practised austere penances, and no other.' When Drona had answered thus, Karna, having worshipped him, obtained his leave, and proceeded without delay to Rama then residing on the Mahendra mountains. Approaching Rama, he bent his head unto him and said, 'I am a Brahmana of Bhrigu's race.' This procured honour for him. With this knowledge about his birth and family, Rama received him kindly and said, 'Thou art welcome!' at which Karna became highly glad. While residing on the Mahendra mountains that resembled heaven itself, Karna met and mixed with many Gandharvas, Yakshas, and gods. Residing there he acquired all the weapons duly, and became a great favourite of the gods, the Gandharvas, and the Rakshasas. One day he roved on the sea-coast by the side of that asylum. Indeed, Surya's son, armed with bow and sword, wandered alone, While thus employed, O Partha, he inadvertently slew, without witting it, the Homa cow of a certain utterer of Brahma who daily performed his Agnihotra rite. Knowing that he had perpetrated that act from inadvertence, he informed the Brahmana of it. Indeed Karna, for the object of gratifying the owner, repeatedly said, 'O holy one, I have killed this thy cow without willing it. Forgive me the act!' Filled with wrath, the Brahmana, rebuking him, said these words, 'O thou of wicked conduct, thou deservest to be killed. Let the fruit of this act be thine, O thou of wicked soul. While fighting him, O wretch whom thou always challengest, and for whose sake thou strivest so much every day, the earth shall swallow the wheel of thy car! And while the wheel of thy car shall thus be swallowed up by the earth, thy foe, putting forth his prowess, will cut off thy head, thyself being stupefied the while! Leave me, O vile man! As thou hast heedlessly slain this my cow, even so wilt thy foe cut off thy head while thou shalt be heedless!' Though cursed, Karna still sought to gratify that foremost of Brahmanas by offering him kine and wealth and gems. The latter, however, once more answered him, 'All the words will not succeed in falsifying the words spoken by me! Go hence or remain, do whatever thou likest.' Thus addressed by the Brahmana, Karna, hanging down his head from cheerlessness, returned timidly to Rama, reflecting on that matter."'" SECTION III "'Narada said, "That tiger of Bhrigu's race (viz., Rama), was well-pleased with the might of Karna's arms, his affection (for him), his self-restraint, and the services he did unto his preceptor. Observant of ascetic penances, Rama cheerfully communicated, with due forms, unto his penance-observing disciple, everything about the Brahma weapon with the mantras for withdrawing it. Having acquired a knowledge of that weapon, Karna began to pass his days happily in Bhrigu's retreat, and endued with wonderful prowess, he devoted himself with great ardour to the science of weapons. One day Rama of great intelligence, while roving with Karna in the vicinity of his retreat, felt very weak in consequence of the fasts he had undergone. From affection begotten by confidence, the tired son of Jamadagni placing his head on Karna's lap, slept soundly. While his preceptor was thus sleeping (with head) on his lap, a frightful worm, whose bite was very painful and which subsisted on phlegm and fat and flesh and blood, approached the presence of Karna. That blood-sucking worm, approaching Karna's thigh, began to pierce it. Through fear of (awaking) his preceptor, Karna became unable to either throw away or kill that worm. Though his limb was bored through by that worm, O Bharata, the son of Surya, lest his preceptor should awake, suffered it to do its pleasure. Though the pain was intolerable, Karna bore it with heroic patience, and continued to hold Bhrigu's son on his lap, without quivering in the least and without manifesting any sign of pain. When at last Karna's blood touched the body of Rama of great energy, the latter awoke and said these words in fear, 'Alas, I have been made impure! What is this that thou art doing. Tell me, casting off all fear, what is the truth of this matter!' Then Karna informed him of that worm's bite. Rama saw that worm which resembled a hog in shape. It had eight feet and very keen teeth, and it was covered with bristles that were all pointed like needles. Called by the name of Alarka, its limbs were then shrunk (with fear). As soon as Rama cast his eyes on it, the worm gave up its life-breath, melting in that blood which it had drawn. All this seemed wonderful. Then in the welkin was seen a Rakshasa of terrible form, dark in hue, of a red neck, capable of assuming any form at wilt, and staying on the clouds,--his object fulfilled, the Rakshasa, with joined hands, addressed Rama, saying, 'O best of ascetics, thou hast rescued me from this hell! Blessed be thou, I adore thee, thou hast done me good!' Possessed of great energy, the mighty-armed son of Jamadagni said unto him, 'Who art thou? And why also didst thou fall into hell? Tell me all about it.' He answered, 'Formerly I was a great Asura of the name of Dansa. In the Krita period, O sire, I was of the same age with Bhrigu. I ravished the dearly-loved spouse of that sage. Through his curse I felt down on the earth in the form of a worm. In anger thy ancestors said unto me, "Subsisting on urine and phlegm, O wretch, thou shalt lead a life of hell." I then besought him, saying, "When, O Brahmana, shall this curse end?" Bhrigu replied unto me, saying, "This curse shall end through Rama of my race." It was for this that I had obtained such a course of life like one of uncleansed soul. O righteous one, by thee, however, I have been rescued from that sinful life.' Having said these words, the great Asura, bending his head unto Rama went away. Then Rama wrathfully addressed Karna, saying, 'O fool, no Brahmana could endure such agony. Thy patience is like that of a Kshatriya. Tell me the truth, without fear.' Thus asked, Karna, fearing to be cursed, and seeking to gratify him, said these words, 'O thou of Bhrigu's race, know me for a Suta, a race that has sprung from the intermixture of Brahmanas with Kshatriyas. People call me Karna the son of Radha. O thou of Bhrigu's race, be gratified with my poor self that has acted from the desire of obtaining weapons. There is no doubt in this that a reverend preceptor in the Vedas and other branches of knowledge is one's father. It was for this that I introduced myself to thee as a person of thy own race.' Unto the cheerless and trembling Karna, prostrated with joined hands upon earth, that foremost one of Bhrigu's race, smiling though filled with wrath, answered, 'Since thou hast, from avarice of weapons, behaved here with falsehood, therefore, O wretch, this Brahma weapon shalt not dwell in thy remembrance[2]. Since thou art not a Brahmana, truly this Brahma weapon shall not, up to the time of thy death, dwell in thee when thou shalt be engaged with a warrior equal to thyself![3] Go hence, this is no place for a person of such false behaviour as thou! On earth, no Kshatriya will be thy equal in battle.' Thus addressed by Rama, Karna came away, having duty taken his leave. Arriving then before Duryodhana, he informed him, saying, 'I have mastered all weapons!'"'" SECTION IV "'Narada said, "Having thus obtained weapons from him of Bhrigu's race, Karna began to pass his days in great joy, in the company of Duryodhana, O bull of Bharata's race! Once on a time, O monarch, many kings repaired to a self-choice at the capital of Chitrangada, the ruler of the country of the Kalingas. The city, O Bharata, full of opulence, was known by the name of Rajapura. Hundreds of rulers repaired thither for obtaining the hand of the maiden. Hearing that diverse kings had assembled there, Duryodhana also, on his golden car, proceeded thither, accompanied by Karna. When the festivities commenced in that self-choice, diverse rulers, O best of kings, came thither for the hand of the maiden. There were amongst them Sisupala and Jarasandha and Bhishmaka and Vakra, and Kapotaroman and Nila and Rukmi of steady prowess, and Sringa who was ruler of the kingdom of females, and Asoka and Satadhanwan and the heroic ruler of the Bhojas. Besides these, many others who dwelt in the countries of the South, and many preceptors (in arms) of the Mlechcha tribes, and many rulers from the East and the North, O Bharata, came there. All of them were adorned with golden Angadas, and possessed of the splendour of pure gold. Of effulgent bodies, they were like tigers of fierce might. After all those kings had taken their seats, O Bharata, the maiden entered the arena, accompanied by her nurse and a guard of eunuchs. Whilst being informed of the names of the kings (as she made her round), that maiden of the fairest complexion passed by the son of Dhritarashtra (as she had passed others before him). Duryodhana, however, of Kuru's race, could not tolerate that rejection of himself. Disregarding all the kings, he commanded the maiden to stop. Intoxicated with the pride of energy, and relying upon Bhishma and Drona, king Duryodhana, taking up that maiden on his car, abducted her with force. Armed with sword, clad in mail, and his fingers cased in leathern fences, Karna, that foremost of all wielders of weapons riding on his car, proceeded along Duryodhana's rear. A great uproar then took place among the kings, all of whom were actuated by the desire for fight, 'Put on your coats of mail! Let the cars be made ready!' (These were the sounds that were heard). Filled with wrath, they pursued Karna and Duryodhana, showering their arrows upon them like masses of clouds pouring rain upon a couple of hills. As they thus pursued them, Karna felled their bows and arrows on the ground, each with a single arrow. Amongst them some became bowless, some rushed bow in hand, some were on the point of shooting their shafts, and some pursued them, armed with darts and maces. Possessed of great lightness of hands, Karna, that foremost of all smiters, afflicted them all. He deprived many kings of their drivers and thus vanquished all those lords of earth. They then themselves took up the reins of their steeds, and saying, 'Go away, go away', turned away from the battle with cheerless hearts. Protected by Karna, Duryodhana also came away, with a joyous heart, bringing with him the maiden to the city called after the elephant."'" SECTION V "'Narada said, "Hearing of the fame of Karna's might, the ruler of the Magadhas, king Jarasandha, challenged him to a single combat. Both conversant with the celestial weapons, a fierce battle took place between them in which they struck each other with diverse kinds of arms. At last when their arrows were exhausted and bows and swords were broken and they both became carless, they began, possessed of might as they were, to fight with bare arms. While engaged with him in mortal combat with bare arms, Karna was about to sever the two portions of his antagonist's body that had been united together by Jara. The king (of Magadha), then after feeling himself very much pained, cast off all desire of hostility and addressed Karna, saying, 'I am gratified.' From friendship he then gave unto Karna the town Malini. Before this, that tiger among men and subjugator of all foes (viz., Karna) had been king of the Angas only, but from that time the grinder of hostile forces began to rule over Champa also, agreeably to the wishes of Duryodhana, as thou knowest. Thus Karna became famous on earth for the valour of his arms. When, for thy good, the Lord of the celestials begged of him his (natural) coat of mail and ear-rings, stupefied by celestial illusion, he gave away those precious possessions. Deprived of his car-rings and divested of his natural armour, he was slain by Arjuna in Vasudeva's presence. In consequence of a Brahmana's curse, as also of the curse of the illustrious Rama, of the boon granted to Kunti and the illusion practised on him by Indra, of his depreciation by Bhishma as only half a car-warrior, at the tale of Rathas and Atirathas, of the destruction of his energy caused by Salya (with his keen speeches), of Vasudeva's policy, and, lastly of the celestial weapons obtained by Arjuna from Rudra and Indra and Yama and Varuna and Kuvera and Drona and the illustrious Kripa, the wielder of Gandiva succeeded in slaying Vikartana's son Karna of effulgence like that of Surya himself. Even thus had thy brother been cursed and beguiled by many. As, however, he has fallen in battle, thou shouldst not grieve for that tiger among men!"'" SECTION VI "Vaisampayana said, 'Having said these words, the celestial Rishi Narada became silent. The royal sage Yudhishthira, filled with grief, became plunged in meditation. Beholding that hero cheerless and unmanned by sorrow, sighing like a snake and shedding copious tears, Kunti, herself filled with grief and almost deprived of her senses by sorrow, addressed him in these sweet words of grave import and well-suited to the occasion, "O mighty-armed Yudhishthira, it behoveth thee not to give way to sorrow thus. O thou of great wisdom, kill this grief of thine, and listen to what I say. I tried in past times to apprise Karna of his brothership with thee. The god Surya also, O foremost of all righteous persons, did the same. All that a well-wishing friend, from desire of good, should say unto one, was said unto Karna by that god in a dream and once more in my presence. Neither by affliction nor by reasons could Surya or myself succeed in pacifying him or inducing him to unite himself with thee. Succumbing to the influence of Time, he became resolved upon wreaking his enmity on thee. As he was bent upon doing injuries upon you all, I myself gave up the attempt." Thus addressed by his mother, king Yudhishthira, with tearful eyes and heart agitated by grief, said these words, "In consequence of thyself having concealed thy counsels, this great affliction has overtaken me!" Possessed of great energy, the righteous king, then, in sorrow, cursed all the women of the world, saying, "Henceforth no woman shall succeed in keeping a secret." The king, then, recollecting his sons and grandsons and kinsmen and friends, became filled with anxiety and grief. Afflicted with sorrow, the intelligent king, resembling a fire covered with smoke, became overwhelmed with despair.'" SECTION VII "Vaisampayana said, 'The righteous-souled Yudhishthira, with an agitated heart and burning with sorrow, began to grieve for that mighty car-warrior Karna. Sighing repeatedly, he addressed Arjuna, saying, "If, O Arjuna, we had led a life of mendicancy in the cities of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas, then this miserable end would not have been ours in consequence of having exterminated our kinsmen. Our foes, the Kurus, have gained in prosperity, while we have become divested of all the objects of life, for what fruits of righteousness can be ours when we have been guilty of self-slaughter?[4] Fie on the usages of Kshatriyas, fie on might and valour, and fie on wrath, since through these such a calamity hath overtaken us. Blessed are forgiveness, and self-restraint, and purity, with renunciation and humility, and abstention from injury, and truthfulness of speech on all occasions, which are all practised by forest-recluses. Full of pride and arrogance, ourselves, however, through covetousness and folly and from desire of enjoying the sweets of sovereignty, have fallen into this plight. Beholding those kinsmen of ours that were bent on acquiring the sovereignty of the world slain on the field of battle, such grief hath been ours that one cannot gladden us by giving the sovereignty of even the three worlds. Alas, having slain, for the sake of the earth, such lords of earth as deserved not to be slain by us, we are bearing the weight of existence, deprived of friends and reft of the very objects of life. Like a pack of dogs fighting one another for a piece of meat, a great disaster has overtaken us! That piece of meat is no longer dear to us. On the other hand, it shall be thrown aside. They that have been slain should not have been slain for the sake of even the whole earth or mountains of gold, or all the horses and kine in this world. Filled with envy and a hankering for all earthly objects, and influenced by wrath and pleasure, all of them, betaking themselves to the highway of Death, have repaired to the regions of Yama. Practising asceticism and Brahmacharya and truth and renunciation, sires wish for sons endued with every kind of prosperity. Similarly, by fasts and sacrifices and vows and sacred rites and auspicious ceremonies mothers conceive. They then hold the foetus for ten months. Passing their time in misery and in expectation of fruit, they always ask themselves in anxiety, 'Shall these come out of the womb safely? Shall these live after birth? Shall they grow in might and be objects of regard on earth? Shall they be able to give us happiness in this and the other world?' Alas, since their sons, youthful in years and resplendent with ear-rings, have been slain, therefore, those expectations of theirs rendered fruitless, have been abandoned by them. Without having enjoyed the pleasure of this world, and without having paid off the debts they owed to their sires and the gods, they have repaired to Yama's abode. Alas, O mother, those kings have been slain just at that time when their parents expected to reap the fruits of their might and wealth.[5] They were always fitted with envy and a hankering after earthly objects, and were exceedingly subject to anger and joy. For this, they could not be expected to enjoy at any time or any place the fruits of victory.[6] I think that they among the Panchalas and the Kurus that have fallen (in this battle) have been lost, otherwise he that has slain would, by that act of his, obtain all regions of bliss.[7] We are regarded as the cause of the destruction that has overtaken the world. The fault, however, is really ascribable to the sons of Dhritarashtra. Duryodhana's heart was always set upon guile. Always cherishing malice, he was addicted to deception. Although we never offended him, yet he always behaved falsely towards us. We have not gained our object, nor have they gained theirs. We have not vanquished them, nor have they vanquished us. The Dhartarashtras could not enjoy this earth, nor could they enjoy women and music. They did not listen to the counsels of ministers and friends and men learned in the scriptures. They could not, indeed, enjoy their costly gems and well-filled treasury and vast territories. Burning with the hate they bore us, they could not obtain happiness and peace. Beholding our aggrandisement, Duryodhana became colourless, pale and emaciated. Suvala's son informed king Dhritarashtra of this. As a father full of affection for his son, Dhritarashtra tolerated the evil policy his son pursued. Without doubt, by disregarding Vidura and the high-souled son of Ganga, and in consequence of his neglect in restraining his wicked and covetous son, entirely governed by his passions, the king has met with destruction like my poor self. Without doubt, Suyodhana, having caused his uterine brothers to be slain and having cast this couple into burning grief, hath fallen off from his blazing fame. Burning with the hate he bore to us Duryodhana was always of a sinful heart. What other kinsman of high birth could use such language towards kinsmen as he, from desire of battle, actually used in the presence of Krishna? We also have, through Duryodhana's fault, been lost for eternity, like suns burning everything around them with their own energy. That wicked-souled wight, that embodiment of hostility, was our evil star. Alas, for Duryodhana's acts alone, this race of ours has been exterminated. Having slain those whom we should never have slain, we have incurred the censures of the world. King Dhritarashtra, having installed that wicked-souled prince of sinful deeds, that exterminator of his race, in the sovereignty, is obliged to grieve today. Our heroic foes have been slain. We have committed sin. His possessions and kingdom are gone. Having slain them, our wrath has been pacified. But grief is stupefying me. O Dhananjaya, a perpetrated sin is expiated by auspicious acts, by publishing it wildly, by repentance, by alms-giving, by penances, by trips to tirthas after renunciation of everything, by constant meditation on the scriptures. Of all these, he that has practised renunciation is believed to be incapable of committing sins anew. The Srutis declare that he that practises renunciation escapes from birth and death, and obtaining the right rood, that person of fixed soul attains to Brahma. I shall, therefore, O Dhananjaya, go to the woods, with your leave, O scorcher of foes, disregarding all the pairs of opposites, adopting the vow of taciturnity, and walking in the way pointed out by knowledge.[8] O slayer of foes, the Srutis declare it and I myself have seen it with my eyes, that one who is wedded to this earth can never obtain every kind Of religious merit. Desirous of obtaining the things of this earth, I have committed sin, through which, as the Srutis declare, birth and death are brought about. Abandoning the whole of my kingdom, therefore, and the things of this earth, I shall go to the woods, escaping from the ties of the world, freed from grief, and without affection for anything. Do thou govern this earth, on which peace has been restored, and which has been divested of all its thorns. O best of Kuru's race, I have no need for kingdom or for pleasure." Having said these words, king Yudhishthira the just stopped. His younger brother Arjuna then addressed him in the following words.'" SECTION VIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Like a person unwilling to forgive an insult, Arjuna of keen speech and prowess, and possessed of energy, betraying great fierceness and licking the corners of his mouth, said these words of grave import, smiling the while: "Oh, how painful, how distressing! I grieve to see this great agitation of thy heart, since having achieved such a superhuman feat, thou art bent upon forsaking this great prosperity. Having slain thy foes, and having acquired the sovereignty of the earth which has been won through observance of the duties of thy own order, why shouldst thou abandon everything through fickleness of heart? Where on earth hath a eunuch or a person of procrastination ever acquired sovereignty? Why then didst thou, insensate with rage, slay all the kings of the earth? He that would live by mendicancy, cannot, by any act of his, enjoy the good things of the earth. Divested of prosperity and without resources, he can never win fame on earth or acquire sons and animals. If, O king, abandoning this swelling kingdom, thou livest in the observance of the wretched mode of life led by a mendicant, what will the world say of thee? Why dost thou say that abandoning all the good things of the earth, divested of prosperity, and reft of resources, thou wilt lead a life of mendicancy like a vulgar person? Thou art born in this race of kings. Having won by conquest the whole earth, wishest thou from folly to live in the woods after abandoning everything of virtue and profit? If thou retirest into the woods, in thy absence, dishonest men will destroy sacrifices. That sin will certainly pollute thee. King Nahusha, having done many wicked acts in a state of poverty, cried fie on that state and said that poverty is for recluses. Making no provision for the morrow is a practice that suits Rishis. Thou knowest this well. That, however, which has been called the religion of royalty depends entirely on wealth. One who robs another of wealth, robs him of his religion as well.[9] Who amongst us, therefore, O king, would forgive an act of spoliation that is practised on us? It is seen that a poor man, even when he stands near, is accused falsely. Poverty is a state of sinfulness. It behoveth thee not to applaud poverty, therefore. The man that is fallen, O king, grieveth, as also he that is poor. I do not see the difference between a fallen man and a poor man. All kinds of meritorious acts flow from the possession of great wealth like a mountain. From wealth spring all religious acts, all pleasures, and heaven itself, O king! Without wealth, a man cannot find the very means of sustaining his life. The acts of a person who, possessed of little intelligence, suffers himself to be divested of wealth, are all dried up like shallow streams in the summer season. He that has wealth has friends. He that has wealth has kinsmen. He that has wealth is regarded as a true man in the world. He that has wealth is regarded as a learned man. If a person who hath no wealth desires to achieve a particular purpose, he meets with failure. Wealth brings about accessions of wealth, like elephants capturing (wild) elephants. Religious acts, pleasures, joy, courage, wrath, learning, and sense of dignity, all these proceed from wealth, O king! From wealth one acquires family honour. From wealth, one's religious merit increases. He that is without wealth hath neither this world, nor the next, O best of men! The man that hath no wealth succeeds not in performing religious acts, for these latter spring from wealth, like rivers from a mountain. He that is lean in respect of (his possession of) steeds and kine and servants and guests, is truly lean and not he whose limbs alone are so. Judge truly, O king, and look at the conduct of the gods and the Danavas. O king, do the gods ever wish for anything else than the slaughter of their kinsmen (the Asuras)? If the appropriation of wealth belonging to others be not regarded as righteous, how, O monarch, will kings practise virtue on this earth? Learned men have, in the Vedas, laid down this conclusion. The learned have laid it down that kings should live, reciting every day the three Vedas, seeking to acquire wealth, and carefully performing sacrifices with the wealth thus acquired. The gods, through internecine quarrels, have obtained footing in heaven. When the very gods have won their prosperity through internecine quarrels, what fault can there be in such quarrels? The gods, thou seest, act in this way. The eternal precepts of the Vedas also sanction it. To learn, teach, sacrifice, and assist at other's sacrifices,--these are our principal duties. The wealth that kings take from others becomes the means of their prosperity. We never see wealth that has been earned without doing some injury to others. It is even thus that kings conquer this world. Having conquered, they call that wealth theirs, just as sons speak of the wealth of their sires as their own. The royal sages that have gone to heaven have declared this to be the duty of kings. Like water flowing on every direction from a swollen ocean, that wealth runs on every direction from the treasuries of kings. This earth formerly belonged to kings Dilipa, Nahusha, Amvarisha, and Mandhatri. She now belongs to thee! A great sacrifice, therefore, with profuse presents of every kind and requiring a vast heap of the earth's produce, awaits thee. If thou dost not perform that sacrifice, O king, then the sins of this kingdom shall all be thine. Those subjects whose king performs a horse-sacrifice with profuse presents, become all cleansed and sanctified by beholding the ablutions at the end of the sacrifice. Mahadeva himself, of universal form, in a great sacrifice requiring libations of all kinds of flesh, poured all creatures as sacrificial libations and then his own self. Eternal is this auspicious path. Its fruits are never destroyed. This is the great path called Dasaratha. Abandoning it, O king, to what other path wouldst thou betake thyself?"'" SECTION IX "'Yudhishthira said, "For a little while, O Arjuna, concentrate thy attention and fix thy mind and hearing on thy inner soul. If thou listenest to my words in such a frame of mind, they will meet with thy approbation. Abandoning all worldly pleasures, I shall betake myself to that path which is trod by the righteous. I shall not, for thy sake, tread along the path thou recommendest. If thou askest me what path is auspicious that one should tread alone, I shall tell thee. If thou dost not desire to ask me, I shall yet, unasked by thee, tell thee of it. Abandoning the pleasures and observance of men of the world, engaged in performing the austerest of penances, I shall wander in the forest, with the animals that have their home there, living on fruit and roots. Pouring libations on the fire at due hours, and performing ablutions at morn and eve, I shall thin myself by reduced diet, and covering myself with skins, bear matted locks on my head. Enduring cold, wind, and heat as also hunger and thirst and toil, I shall emaciate my body by penances as laid down in the ordinance. Charming to the heart and the ear, I shall daily listen to the clear strains of cheerful birds and animals residing in the woods. I shall enjoy the fragrance of flower-burthened trees and creepers, and see diverse kinds of charming products that grow in the forest. I shall also see many excellent recluses of the forest. I shall not do the slightest injury to any creature, what need be said then of those that dwell in villages and towns?[10] Leading a retired life and devoting myself to contemplation, I shall live upon ripe and unripe fruits and gratify the Pitris and the deities with offerings of wild fruits and spring water and grateful hymns. Observing in this way the austere regulations of a forest life, I shall pass my days, calmly awaiting the dissolution of my body. Or, living alone and observing the vow of taciturnity, with my head shaved clean, I shall derive my sustenance by begging each day of only one tree.[11] Smearing my body with ashes, and availing of the shelter of abandoned houses, or lying at the foot of trees, I shall live, casting off all things dear or hateful. Without indulging in grief or joy, and regarding censure and applause, hope and affliction, equally, and prevailing over every couple of opposites, I shall live casting off all the things of the world. Without conversing with anybody, I shall assume the outward form of a blind and deaf idiot, while living in contentment and deriving happiness from my own soul. Without doing the least injury to the four kinds of movable and immovable creatures, I shall behave equally towards all creatures whether mindful of their duties or following only the dictates of the senses. I shall not jeer at any one, nor shall I frown at anybody. Restraining all my senses, I shall always be of a cheerful face. Without asking anybody about the way, proceeding along any route that I may happen to meet with, I shall go on, without taking note of the country or the point of the compass to which or towards which I may go. Regardless of whither I may proceed, I shall not look behind. Divesting myself of desire and wrath, and turning my gaze inwards, I shall go on, casting off pride of soul and body. Nature always walks ahead; hence, food and drink will somehow be accomplished. I shall not think of those pairs of opposites that stand in the way of such a life. If pure food in even a small measure be not obtainable in the first house (to which I may go), I shalt get it by going to other houses. If I fail to procure it by even such a round, I shall proceed to seven houses in succession and fill my craving. When the smoke of houses will cease, their hearth-fires having been extinguished, when husking-rods will be kept aside, and all the inmates will have taken their food, when mendicants and guests will cease to wander, I shall select a moment for my round of mendicancy and solicit alms at two, three, or five houses at the most. I shall wander over the earth, after breaking the bonds of desire. Preserving equability in success and failure, I shall earn great ascetic merit. I shall behave neither like one that is fond of life nor like one that is about to die. I shall not manifest any liking for life or dislike for death. If one strikes off one arm of mine and another smears the other arm with sandal-paste, I shall not wish evil to the one or good to the other. Discarding all those acts conducive to prosperity that one can do in life, the only acts I shall perform will be to open and shut my eyes and take as much food and drink as will barely keep up life. Without ever being attached to action, and always restraining the functions of the senses, I shall give up all desires and purify the soul of all impurities. Freed from all attachments and tearing off all bonds and ties, I shall live free as the wind. Living in such freedom from affections, everlasting contentment will be mine. Through desire, I have, from ignorance, committed great sins. A certain class of men, doing both auspicious and inauspicious acts here, maintain their wives, children, and kinsmen, all bound to them in relations of cause and effect.[12] When the period of their life runs out, casting off their weakened bodies, they take upon themselves all the effects of their sinful acts, for none but the actor is burdened with the consequences of his acts.[13] Even thus, endued with actions, creatures come into this wheel of life that is continually turning like the wheel of a car, and even thus, coming thither, they meet with their fellow-creatures. He, however, who abandons the worldly course of life, which is really a fleeting illusion although it looks eternal, and which is afflicted by birth, death, decrepitude, disease, and pain, is sure to obtain happiness. When again, the very gods fall down from heaven and great Rishis from their respective positions of eminence, who that is acquainted with truths of causes (and effects) would wish to have even heavenly prosperity?[14] Insignificant kings, having performed diverse acts relating to the diverse means of kingcraft (known by the means of conciliation, gift, &c.) often slay a king through some contrivance. Reflecting on these circumstances, this nectar of wisdom hath come to me. Having attained it, I desire to get a permanent, eternal, and unchangeable place (for myself). Always (conducting myself) with such wisdom and acting in this way, I shall, by betaking myself to that fearless path of life, terminate this physical frame that is subject to birth, death, decrepitude, disease, and pain."'" SECTION X "'Bhimasena said, "Thy understanding, O king, has become blind to the truth, like that of a foolish and unintelligent reciter of the Veda in consequence of his repeated recitation of those scriptures. If censuring the duties of kings thou wouldst lead a life of idleness, then, O bull of Bharata's race, this destruction of the Dhartarashtras was perfectly uncalled for. Are forgiveness and compassion and pity and abstention from injury not to be found in anybody walking along the path of Kshatriya duties? If we knew that this was thy intention, we would then have never taken up arms and slain a single creature. We would then have lived by mendicancy till the destruction of this body. This terrible battle between the rulers of the earth would also have never taken place. The learned have said this all that we see is food for the strong. Indeed, this mobile and immobile world is our object of enjoyment for the person that is strong. Wise men acquainted with Kshatriya duties have declared that they who stand in the way of the person taking the sovereignty of the earth, should be slain. Guilty of that fault, those that stood as enemies of our kingdom have all been slain by us. Having slain them, O Yudhishthira, righteously govern this earth. This our act (in refusing the kingdom) is like that of a person who having dug a well stops in his work before obtaining water and comes up smutted with mire. Or, this our act is like that of a person who having climbed up a tall tree and taken honey there from meets with death before tasting it. Or, it is like that of a person who having set out on a long way comes back in despair without having reached his destination. Or, it is like that of a person who having slain all his foes, O thou of Kuru's race, at last falls by his own hand. Or, it is like that of a person afflicted with hunger, who having obtained food, refuses to take it, or of a person under the influence of desire, who having obtained a woman reciprocating his passion, refuses to meet with her. We have become objects of censure, O Bharata, because, O king, we follow thee that art of feeble understanding, in consequence of thyself being our eldest brother. We are possessed of mighty arms; we are accomplished in knowledge and endued with great energy. Yet we are obedient to the words of a eunuch as if we were entirely helpless. We are the refuge of all helpless persons. Yet, when people see us so, why would they not say that in respect of the acquisition of our objects we are entirely powerless? Reflect on this that I say. It has been laid down that (a life of) renunciation should be adopted, only in times of distress, by kings overcome with decrepitude or defeated by foes. Men of wisdom, therefore, do not applaud renunciation as the duty of a Kshatriya. On the other hand, they that are of clear sight think that the adoption of that course of life (by a Kshatriya) involves even the loss of virtue. How can those that have sprung from that order, that are devoted to the practices of that order, and that have refuge in them, censure those duties? Indeed, if those duties be censurable, then why should not the Supreme Ordainer be censured?[15] It is only those persons that are reft of prosperity and wealth and that are infidels in faith, that have promulgated this precept of the Vedas (about the propriety of a Kshatriya's adoption of a life of renunciation) as the truth. In reality, however, it is never proper for a Kshatriya to do so. He who is competent to support life by prowess, he who can support himself by his own exertions, does not live, but really falls away from his duty, by the hypocritical externals of a life of renunciation. That man only is capable of leading a solitary life of happiness in the woods who is unable to support sons and grandsons and the deities and Rishis and guests and Pitris. As the deer and boars and birds (though they lead a forest life) cannot attain to heaven, even so those Kshatriyas that are not bereft of prowess yet not given to doing good turns cannot attain to heaven by leading only a forest life. They should acquire religious merit by other ways. If, O king, anybody were to obtain success from renunciation, then mountains and trees would surely obtain it! These latter are always seen to lead lives of renunciation. They do not injure any one. They are, again, always aloof from a life of worldliness and are all Brahmacharins. If it be the truth that a person's success depends upon his own lot in life and not upon that of other, then (as a person born in the Kshatriya order) thou shouldst betake thyself to action. He that is reft of action can never have success. If they that fill only their own stomachs could attain to success, then all aquatic creatures would obtain it, for these have none else to support save their own selves. Behold, the world moves on, with every creature on it employed in acts proper to its nature. Therefore, one should betake oneself to action. The man reft of action can never obtain success."'" SECTION XI "'Arjuna said, "In this connection an old history is cited, viz., the discourse between certain ascetics and Sakra, O bull of Bharata's race! A number of well-born Brahmana youth of little understanding, without the hirsute honours of manhood, abandoning their homes, came to the woods for leading a forest life. Regarding that to be virtue, those youths of abundant resources became desirous of living as Brahmacharins, having abandoned their brothers and sires. It so happened that Indra became compassionate towards them. Assuming the form of a golden bird, the holy Sakra addressed them, saying, 'That which is done by persons that eat the remnants of a sacrifice is the most difficult of acts that men can achieve.[16] Such an act is highly meritorious. The lives of such men are worthy of every praise. Having attained the object of life, those men, devoted to virtue obtain the highest end.' Hearing these words, the Rishis said, 'Lo, this bird applauds those that subsist upon the remnants of sacrifices. He informs us of it, for we live upon such remnants.' The bird then said, 'I do not applaud you.' Ye are stationed with mire and very impure. Living upon offals, ye are wicked. Ye are not persons subsisting upon the remnants of sacrifice. "'"The Rishis said, 'We regard this our course of life to be highly blessed. Tell us, O bird, what is for our good. Thy words inspire us with great faith.' "'"The bird said, 'If you do not refuse me your faith by arraying yourselves against your better selves, then I shall tell you words that are true and beneficial.' "'"The Rishis said, 'We shall listen to thy words, O sire, for the different paths are all known to thee. O thou of righteous soul, we desire also to obey thy commands. Instruct us now.' "'"The bird said, 'Among quadrupeds the cow is the foremost. Of metals, gold is the foremost. Of words, mantras, and of bipeds, the Brahmanas, are the foremost. These mantras regulate all the rites of a Brahmana's life beginning with those appertaining to birth and the period after it, and ending with those appertaining to death and the crematorium. These Vedic rites are his heaven, path, and foremost of sacrifices. If it were otherwise, how could I find the acts (of persons in quest of heaven) become successful through mantras? He who, in this world, adores his soul, firmly regarding it to be a deity of a particular kind, obtains success consistent with the nature of that particular deity.[17] The seasons measured by half the months lead to the Sun, the Moon, or the Stars.[18] These three kinds of success, depending upon action are desired by every creature. The domestic mode of life is very superior and sacred and is called the field (for the cultivation) of success. By what path do those men go that censure action? Of little understanding and deprived of wealth, they incur sin. And since those men of little understanding live by abandoning the eternal paths of the gods, the paths of the Rishis, and the paths of Brahma, therefore, they attain to paths disapproved of by the Srutis.[19] There is an ordinance in the mantras which says, "Ye sacrificer, perform the sacrifice represented by gifts of valuable things. I wilt give thee happiness represented by sons, animals, and heaven!"--To live, therefore, in accordance with ordinance is said to be the highest asceticism of the ascetics. Therefore, ye should perform such sacrifices and such penances in the shape of gifts. The due performance of these eternal duties, viz., the worship of the gods, the study of the Vedas, and the gratification of the Pitris, as also regardful services unto the preceptors--these are called the austerest of penances. The gods, by performing such exceedingly difficult penances, have obtained the highest glory and power. I, therefore, tell you to bear the very heavy burthen of the duties of domesticity. Without doubt, penances are the foremost of all things and are the root of all creatures. Asceticism, however, is to be obtained by leading a life of domesticity, upon which depends everything. They that eat the remnants of feasts, after duly apportioning the food morning and evening among kinsmen, attain to ends that are exceedingly difficult of attainment. They are called eater of the remnants of feasts who eat after having served guests and gods and Rishis and kinsmen. Therefore, those persons that are observant of their own duties, that practise excellent vows and are truthful in speech, become objects of great respect in the world, with their own faith exceedingly strengthened. Free from pride, those achievers of the most difficult feats attain to heaven and live for unending time in the regions of Sakra.'" "'Arjuna continued, "Those ascetics then, hearing these words that were beneficial and fraught with righteousness, abandoned the religion of renunciation, saying, "There is nothing in it," and betook themselves to a life of domesticity. Therefore, O thou that are conversant with righteousness, calling to thy aid that eternal wisdom, rule the wide world, O monarch that is now destitute of foes."'" SECTION XII "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of Arjuna, O chastiser of foes, Nakula of mighty arms and a broad chest, temperate in speech and possessed of great wisdom, with face whose colour then resembled that of copper, looked at the king, that foremost of all righteous persons, and spoke these words, besieging his brother's heart (with reason).' "'Nakula said, "The very gods had established their fires in the region called Visakha-yupa. Know, therefore, O king, that the gods themselves depend upon the fruits of action.[20] The Pitris, that support (by rain) the lives of even all disbelievers, observing the ordinances (of the Creator as declared in the Vedas), are, O king, engaged in action.[21] Know them for downright atheists that reject the declaration of the Vedas (which inculcate action). The person that is learned in the Vedas, by following their declarations in all his acts, attains, O Bharata, to the highest region of heaven by the way of the deities.[22] "'"This (domestic mode of life again) has been said by all persons acquainted with Vedic truths to be superior to all the (other) modes of life. Knowing this, O king, that the person who in sacrifices gives away his righteously acquired wealth unto those Brahmanas that are well conversant with the Vedas, and restrains his soul, is, O monarch, regarded as the true renouncer. He, however, who, disregarding (a life of domesticity, that is) the source of much happiness, jumps to the next mode of life,--that renouncer of his own self,[23] O monarch, is a renouncer labouring under the quality of darkness. That man who is homeless, who roves over the world (in his mendicant rounds), who has the foot of a tree for his shelter, who observes the vow of taciturnity, never cooks for himself, and seeks to restrain all the functions of his senses, is, O Partha, a renouncer in the observance of the vow of mendicancy.[24] That Brahmana who, disregarding wrath and joy, and especially deceitfulness, always employs his time in the study of the Vedas, is a renouncer in the observance of the vow of mendicancy.[25] The four different modes of life were at one time weighed in the balance. The wise have said, O king, that when domesticity was placed on one scale, it required the three others to be placed on the other for balancing it. Beholding the result of this examination by scales, O Partha, and seeing further, O Bharata, that domesticity alone contained both heaven and pleasure, that became the way of the great Rishis and the refuge of all persons conversant with the ways of the world. He, therefore, O bull of Bharata's race, who betakes himself to this mode of life, thinking it to be his duty and abandoning all desire for fruit, is a real renouncer, and not that man of clouded understanding who goes to the woods, abandoning home and its surroundings. A person, again, who under the hypocritical garb of righteousness, fails to forget his desires (even while living in the woods), is bound by the grim King of death with his deadly fetters round the neck. Those acts that are done from vanity, are said to be unproductive of fruit. Those acts, on the other hand, O monarch, that are done from a spirit of renunciation, always bear abundant fruits.[26] Tranquillity, self-restraint, fortitude, truth, purity, simplicity, sacrifices, perseverance, and righteousness,--these are always regarded as virtues recommended by the Rishis. In domesticity, it is said, are acts intended for Pitris, gods, guests. In this mode of life alone, O monarch, are the threefold aims to be attained.[27] The renouncer that rigidly adheres to this mode of life, in which one is free to do all acts, has not to encounter ruin either here or hereafter. The sinless Lord of all creatures, of righteous soul, created creatures, with the intention that they would adore him by sacrifices with profuse presents. Creepers and trees and deciduous herbs, and animals that are clean, and clarified butter, were created as ingredients of sacrifice. For one in the observance of domesticity the performance of sacrifice is fraught with impediments. For this, that mode of life has been said to be exceedingly difficult and unattainable. Those persons, therefore, in the observance of the domestic mode of life, who, possessed of wealth and corn and animals, do not perform sacrifices, earn, O monarch, eternal sin. Amongst Rishis, there are some that regard the study of the Vedas to be a sacrifice, and some that regard contemplation to be a great sacrifice which they perform in their minds. The very gods, O monarch, covet the companionship of a regenerate person like this, who in consequence of his treading along such a way which consists in the concentration of the mind, has become equal to Brahma. By refusing to spend in sacrifice the diverse kinds of wealth that thou hast taken from thy foes, thou art only displaying thy want of faith. I have never seen, O monarch, a king in the observance of a life of domesticity renouncing his wealth in any other way except in the Rajasuya, the Aswamedha, and other kinds of sacrifice. Like Sakra, the chief of the celestial, O sire, perform those other sacrifices that are praised by the Brahmanas. That king, through whose heedlessness the subjects are plunged by robbers, and who does not offer protection to those whom he is called upon to govern, is said to be the very embodiment of Kali. If, without giving away steeds, and kine, and female slaves, and elephants adorned with trappings, and villages, and populous regions, and fields, and houses, unto Brahmanas, we retire into the woods with hearts not harbouring friendly feeling towards kinsmen, even we shall be, O monarch, such Kalis of the kingly order. Those members of the kingly order that do not practise charity and give protection (to others), incur sin. Woe is their portion hereafter and not bliss. If, O lord, without performing great sacrifices and the rites in honour of thy deceased ancestors, and if, without bathing in sacred waters, thou betakest thyself to a wandering life, thou shalt then meet with destruction like a small cloud separated from a mass and dashed by the winds. Thou shalt then fall off from both worlds and have to take thy birth in the Pisacha order.[28] A person becomes a true renouncer by casting off every internal and external attachment, and not simply by abandoning home for dwelling in the woods. A Brahmana that lives in the observance of these ordinances in which there are no impediments, does not fall off from this or the other world. Observant of the duties of one's own order,--duties respected by the ancients and practised by the best of men, who is there, O Partha, that would grieve, O king, for having in a trice stain in battle his foes that swelled with prosperity, like Sakra slaying the forces of the Daityas? Having in the observance of Kshatriya duties subjugated the world by the aid of thy prowess, and having made presents unto persons conversant with the Vedas, thou canst, O monarch, go to regions higher than heaven. It behoves thee not, O Partha, to indulge in grief."'" SECTION XIII "'Sahadeva said, "By casting off all external objects only, O Bharata, one does not attain to success. By casting off even mental attachments, the attainment of success is doubtful.[29] Let that religious merit and that happiness which are his who has cast off external objects but whose mind still internally covets them, be the portion of our foes! On the other hand, let that religious merit and that happiness which are his who governs the earth, having cast off all internal attachments also, be the portion of our friends. The word mama (mine), consisting of two letters, is Death's self; while the opposite word na-mama (not mine), consisting of three letters, is eternal Brahma.[30] Brahma and death, O king, entering invisibly into every soul, without doubt, cause all creatures to act. If this being, O Bharata, that is called Soul, be not ever subject to destruction, then by destroying the bodies of creatures one cannot be guilty of slaughter. If, on the other hand, the soul and the body of a being are born or destroyed together, so that when the body is destroyed the soul also is destroyed, then the way (prescribed in the scriptures) of rites and acts would be futile. Therefore, driving away all doubts about the immortality of the soul, the man of intelligence should adopt that path which has been trodden by the righteous of old and older times. The life of that king is certainly fruitless who having acquired the entire earth with her mobile and immobile creatures, does not enjoy her. As regards the man again who lives in the forest upon wild fruits and roots, but whose attachment to things of the earth has not ceased, such a one, O king, lives within the jaws of Death. Behold, O Bharata, the hearts and the outward forms of all creatures to be but manifestations of thy own. They that look upon all creatures as their own selves escape from the great fear (of destruction).[31] Thou art my sire, thou art my protector, thou art my brother, and thou art my senior and preceptor. It behoveth thee, therefore, to forgive these incoherent utterances in sorrow of a woe-stricken person. True or false, this that has been uttered by me, O lord of earth, has been uttered from a due regard for thee, O best of Bharatas, that I entertain!"'" SECTION XIV "Vaisampayana said, 'When Kunti's son, king Yudhishthira the just, remained speechless after listening to his brothers who were telling these truths of the Vedas, that foremost of women, viz., Draupadi, of large eyes and great beauty, and noble descent, O monarch, said these words unto that bull among kings seated in the midst of his brothers that resembled so many lions and tigers, and like the leader in the midst of a herd of elephants. Ever expectant of loving regards from all her husbands but especially from Yudhishthira, she was always treated with affection and indulgence by the king. Conversant with duties and observant of them in practice, that lady of large hips, casting her eyes on her lord, desired his attention in soothing and sweet words and said as follows. "'Draupadi said, "These thy brothers, O Partha, are crying and drying their palates like chatakas but thou dost not gladden them. O monarch, gladden these thy brothers, that resemble infuriated elephants (in prowess), with proper words,--these heroes that have always drunk of the cup of misery. Why, O king, while living by the side of the Dwaita lake, didst thou say unto these thy brothers then residing with thee, and suffering from cold and wind and sun, even these words, viz.,--'rushing to battle from desire of victory, we will slay Duryodhana and enjoy the earth that is capable of granting every wish. Depriving great car-warriors of their cars and slaying huge elephants, and strewing the field of battle with the bodies of car-warriors and horsemen and heroes, ye chastisers of foes, ye will perform great sacrifices of diverse kinds with presents in profusion. All these sufferings, due to a life of exile in the woods, will then end in happiness.' O foremost of all practisers of virtue, having thyself said these words unto thy brothers then, why, O hero, dost thou depress our hearts now? A eunuch can never enjoy wealth. A eunuch can never have children even as there can be no fish in a mire (destitute of water). A Kshatriya without the rod of chastisement can never shine. A Kshatriya without the rod of chastisement can never enjoy the earth. The subjects of a king that is without the rod of chastisement can never have happiness. Friendship for all creatures, charity, study of the Vedas, penances,--these constitute the duties of a Brahmana and not of a king, O best of kings! Restraining the wicked, cherishing the honest, and never retreating from battle,--these are the highest duties of kings. He is said to be conversant with duties in whom are forgiveness and wrath, giving and taking, terrors and fearlessness, and chastisement and reward. It was not by study, or gift, or mendicancy, that thou hast acquired the earth. That force of the enemy, O hero, ready to burst upon thee with all its might, abounding with elephants and horse and cars, strong with three kinds of strength[32] protected by Drona and Karna and Aswatthaman and Kripa, has been defeated and slain by thee, O hero! It is for this that I ask thee to enjoy the earth. Formerly, O puissant one, thou hadst, O monarch, swayed with might,[33] the region called Jambu, O tiger among men, abounding with populous districts. Thou hadst also, O ruler of men, swayed with might that other region called Kraunchadwipa situate on the west of the great Meru and equal unto Jambu-dwipa itself. Thou hadst swayed with might, O king, that other region called Sakadwipa on the east of the great Meru and equal to Krauncha-dwipa itself. The region called Bhadraswa, on the north of the great Meru and equal to Sakadwipa was also swayed by thee, O tiger, among men! Thou hadst even penetrated the ocean and swayed with might other regions, too, O hero, and the very islands begirt by the sea and containing many populous provinces. Having, O Bharata, achieved such immeasurable feats, and having obtained (through them) the adorations of the Brahmanas, how is it that thy soul is not gratified? Seeing these brothers of thine before thee, O Bharata,--these heroes swelling with might and resembling bulls or infuriated elephants (in prowess),--why dost thou not address them in delightful words? All of you are like celestials. All of you are capable of resisting foes. All of you are competent to scorch your enemies. If only one of you had become my husband, my happiness would even then have been very great. What need I say then, O tiger among men, when all of you, numbering five, are my husbands (and look after me) like the five senses inspiring the physical frame? The words of my mother-in-law who is possessed of great knowledge and great foresight, cannot be untrue. Addressing me, she said, 'O princess of Panchala, Yudhishthira will ever keep you in happiness, O excellent lady!' Having slain many thousands of kings possessed of active prowess, I see, O monarch, that through thy folly thou art about to make that feat futile. They whose eldest brother becomes mad, have all to follow him in madness. Through thy madness, O king, all the Pandavas are about to become mad. If, O monarch, these thy brothers were in their senses, they would then have immured thee with all unbelievers (in a prison) and taken upon themselves the government of the earth. That person who from dullness of intellect acts in this way never succeeds in winning prosperity. The man that treads along the path of madness should be subjected to medical treatment by the aid of incense and collyrium, of drugs applied through the nose, and of other medicines. O best of the Bharatas, I am the worst of all my sex, since I desire to live on even though I am bereaved of my children. Thou shouldst not disregard the words spoken by me and by these brothers of thine that are endeavouring thus (to dissuade thee from thy purpose). Indeed, abandoning the whole earth, thou art inviting adversity and danger to come upon thee. Thou shinest now, O monarch, even as those two best of kings, viz., Mandhatri and Amvarisha, regarded by all the lords of earth, did in former days. Protecting thy subjects righteously, govern the goddess Earth with her mountains and forests and islands. Do not, O king, become cheerless. Adore the gods in diverse sacrifices. Fight thy foes. Make gifts of wealth and clothes and other objects of enjoyment unto the Brahmanas, O best of kings!"'" SECTION XV "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of Yajnasena's daughter, Arjuna once more spoke, showing proper regard for his mighty-armed eldest brother of unfading glory. "'Arjuna said, "The man armed with the rod of chastisement governs all subjects and protects them. The rod of chastisement is awake when all else is sleep. For this, the wise have characterised the rod of chastisement to be Righteousness itself. The rod of chastisement protects Righteousness and Profit. It protects also, O king! For this, the rod of chastisement is identified with the triple objects of life. Corn and wealth are both protected by the rod of chastisement. Knowing this, O thou that art possessed of learning, take up the rod of chastisement and observe the course of the world. One class of sinful men desist from sin through fear of the rod of chastisement in the king's hands. Another class desist from similar acts through fear of Yama's rod, and yet another from fear of the next world. Another class of persons desist from sinful acts through fear of society. Thus, O king, in this world, whose course is such, everything is dependent on the rod of chastisement. There is a class of persons who are restrained by only the rod of chastisement from devouring one another. If the rod of chastisement did not protect people, they would have sunk in the darkness of hell. The rod of chastisement (danda) has been so named by the wise because it restrains the ungovernable and punishes the wicked. The chastisement of Brahmanas should be by word of mouth; of Kshatriyas, by giving them only that much of food as would suffice for the support of life; of Vaisyas, by the imposition of fines and forfeitures of property, while for Sudras there is no punishment.[34] For keeping men awake (to their duties) and for the protection of property, ordinances, O king, have been established in the world, under the name of chastisement (or punitive legislation). Thither where chastisement, of dark complexion and red eyes, stands in an attitude of readiness (to grapple with every offender) and the king is of righteous vision, the subjects never forget themselves. The Brahmacharin and the house-holder, the recluse in the forest and the religious mendicant, all these walk in their respective ways through fear of chastisement alone. He that is without any fear, O king, never performs a sacrifice. He that is without fear never giveth away. The man that is without any fear never desires to adhere to any engagement or compact. Without piercing the vitals of others, without achieving the most difficult feats and without staying creatures like a fisherman (slaying fish), no person can obtain great prosperity.[35] Without slaughter, no man has been able to achieve fame in this world or acquire wealth or subjects. Indra himself, by the slaughter of Vritra, became the great Indra. Those amongst the gods that are given to slaughtering others are adored much more by men. Rudra, Skanda, Sakra, Agni, Varuna, are all slaughterers. Kala and Mrityu and Vayu and Kuvera and Surya, the Vasus, the Maruts, the Sadhyas, and the Viswadevas, O Bharata, are all slaughterers. Humbled by their prowess, all people bend to those gods, but not to Brahman or Dhatri or Pushan at any time. Only a few men that are noble of disposition adore in all their acts those among the gods that are equally disposed towards all creatures and that are self-restrained and peaceful. I do not behold the creature in this world that supports life without doing any act of injury to others. Animals live upon animals, the stronger upon the weaker. The mongoose devours mice; the cat devours the mongoose; the dog devours the cat; the dog again is devoured by the spotted leopard. Behold all things again are devoured by the Destroyer when he comes! This mobile and immobile universe is food for living creatures. This has been ordained by the gods. The man of knowledge, therefore, is never stupefied at it. It behoveth thee, O great king, to become that which thou art by birth. Foolish (Kshatriyas) alone, restraining wrath and joy take refuge in the woods. The very ascetics cannot support their lives without killing creatures. In water, on earth, and fruits, there are innumerable creatures. It is not true that one does not slaughter them. What higher duty is there than supporting one's life?[36] There are many creatures that are so minute that their existence can only be inferred. With the falling of the eyelids alone, they are destroyed. There are men who subduing wrath and pride betake themselves to ascetic courses of life and leaving village and towns repair to the woods. Arrived there, those men may be seen to be so stupefied as to adopt the domestic mode of life once more. Others may be seen, who (in the observance of domesticity) tilling the soil, uprooting herbs, cutting off trees and killing birds and animals, perform sacrifices and at last attain to heaven. O son of Kunti, I have no doubt in this that the acts of all creatures become crowned with success only when the policy of chastisement is properly applied. If chastisement were abolished from the world, creatures would soon be destroyed. Like fishes in the water, stronger animals prey on the weaker. This truth was formerly spoken by Brahmana himself, viz., that chastisement, properly applied upholds creatures. Behold, the very fires, when extinguished, blaze up again, in fright, when blown. This is due to the fear of force or chastisement. If there were no chastisement in the world distinguishing the good from the bad, then the whole world would have been enveloped in utter darkness and all things would have been confounded. Even they that are breakers of rules, that are atheists and scoffers of the Vedas, afflicted by chastisement, soon become disposed to observe rules and restrictions.[37] Everyone in this world is kept straight by chastisement. A person naturally pure and righteous is scarce. Yielding to the fear of chastisement, man becomes disposed to observe rules and restraints. Chastisement was ordained by the Creator himself for protecting religion and profit, for the happiness of all the four orders, and for making them righteous and modest. If chastisement could not inspire fear, then ravens and beasts of prey would have eaten up all other animals and men and the clarified butter intended for sacrifice. If chastisement did not uphold and protect, then nobody would have studied the Vedas, nobody would have milked a milch cow, and no maiden would have married.[38] If chastisement did not uphold and protect, then ravage and confusion would have set in on every side, and all barriers would have been swept away, and the idea of property would have disappeared. If chastisement did not uphold and protect, people could never duly perform annual sacrifices with large presents. If chastisement did not uphold and protect, no one, to whatever mode of life he might belong, would observe the duties of that mode as declared (in the scriptures), and no one would have succeeded in acquiring knowledge.[39] Neither camels, nor oxen, nor horses, nor mules, nor asses, would, even if yoked thereto, drag cars and carriages, if chastisement did not uphold and protect. Upon chastisement depend all creatures. The learned, therefore, say that chastisement is the root of everything. Upon chastisement rests the heaven that men desire, and upon it rests this world also. Thither where foe-destroying chastisement is well applied, no sin, no deception, and no wickedness, is to be seen. If the rod of chastisement be not uplifted, the dog will lick the sacrificial butter. The crow also would take away the first (sacrificial) offering, if that rod were not kept uplifted. Righteously or unrighteously, this kingdom hath now become ours. Our duty now is to abandon grief. Do thou, therefore, enjoy it and perform sacrifices. Men that are fortunate, living with their dear wives (and children), eat good food, wear excellent clothes, and cheerfully acquire virtue. All our acts, without doubt, are dependent on wealth; that wealth again is dependent on chastisement. Behold, therefore, the importance of chastisement. Duties have been declared for only the maintenance of the relations of the world. There are two things here, viz., abstention from injury and injury prompted by righteous motives. Of these two, that is superior by which righteousness may be acquired.[40] There is no act that is wholly meritorious, nor any that is wholly wicked. Right or wrong, in all acts, something of both is seen. Subjecting animals to castration, their horns again are cut off. They are then made to bear weights, are tethered, and chastised. In this world that is unsubstantial and rotten with abuses and rendered painful, O monarch, do thou practise the ancient customs of men, following the rules and analogies cited above. Perform sacrifices, give alms, protect thy subjects, and practise righteousness. Slay thy foes, O son of Kunti, and protect thy friends. Let no cheerlessness be thine, O king, while slaying foes. He that does it, O Bharata, does not incur the slightest sin. He that takes up a weapon and slays an armed foe advancing against him, does not incur the sin of killing a foetus, for it is the wrath of the advancing foe that provokes the wrath of the slayer. The inner soul of every creature is incapable of being slain. When the soul is incapable of being slain, how then can one be slain by another? As a person enters a new house, even so a creature enters successive bodies. Abandoning forms that are worn out, a creature acquires new forms. People capable of seeing the truth regard this transformation to be death."'" SECTION XVI "Vaisampayana said, 'After the conclusion of Arjuna's speech, Bhimasena of great wrath and energy, mustering all his patience, said these words unto his eldest brother, "Thou art, O monarch, conversant with all duties. There is nothing unknown to thee. We always wish to imitate thy conduct, but, alas, we cannot do it!--'I will not say anything! I will not say anything!'--Even this is what I had wished! Impelled, however, by great grief I am constrained to say something. Listen to these words of mine, O ruler of men! Through the stupefaction of thy faculties, everything is endangered, and ourselves are being made cheerless and weak. How is it that thou that art the ruler of the world, thou that art conversant with all branches of knowledge, sufferest thy understanding to be clouded, in consequence of cheerlessness, like a coward? The righteous and unrighteous paths of the world are known to thee. There is nothing belonging either to the future or the present that is also unknown to thee, O puissant one! When such is the case, O monarch, I will indicate, O ruler of men, the reasons in favour of your assuming sovereignty. Listen to me with undivided attention. There are two kinds of diseases, viz., physical and mental. Each springs from the other. None of them can be seen existing independently. Without doubt, mental diseases spring from physical ones. Similarly physical diseases spring from mental ones. This is the truth. He that indulgeth in regrets on account of past physical or mental woes, reapeth woe from woe and suffereth double woe. Cold, heat, and wind,--these three are the attributes of the body.[41] Their existence in harmony is the sign of health. If one of the three prevails over the rest, remedies have been laid down. Cold is checked by heat, and heat is checked by cold. Goodness, passion, and darkness are the three attributes of the mind. The existence of these three in harmony is the sign of (mental) health. If one of these prevails over the rest, remedies have been prescribed. Grief is checked by joy, and joy is checked by grief. One, living in the present enjoyment of this, wishes to recollect his past woes. Another, living in the present suffering of woe, wishes to recollect his past bliss. Thou, however, wert never sad in grief or glad in bliss.[42] Thou shouldst not, therefore, use thy memory for becoming sad during times of bliss, or glad during times of woe. It seems that Destiny is all-powerful. Or, if it be thy nature, in consequence of which thou art thus afflicted, how is it that it does not behove thee to recollect the sight thou sawest before, viz., the scantily-clad Krishna dragged, while in her season, before the assembly.[43] Why does it not behove thee to recollect our expulsion from the (Kuru) city and our exile (into the woods) dressed in deerskins, as also our living in the great forests? Why hast thou forgotten the woes inflicted by Jatasura, the battle with Chitrasena, and the distress suffered at the hands of the Sindhu king? Why hast thou forgotten the kick received by the princess Draupadi from Kichaka while we were living in concealment? A fierce battle, O chastiser of foes, like that which thou hast fought with Bhishma and Drona is now before thee, to be fought (however) with thy mind alone. Indeed, that battle is now before thee in which there is no need of arrows, of friends, of relatives and kinsmen, but which will have to be fought with thy mind alone. If thou givest up thy life-breath before conquering in this battle, then, assuming another body, thou shalt have to fight these very foes again.[44] Therefore, fight that battle this very day, O bull of Bharata's race, disregarding the concerns of thy body, and aided by thy own acts, conquer and identify with thy mind's foe.[45] If thou canst not win that battle, what wilt be thy condition? On the other hand, by winning it, O monarch, thou shalt have attained the great end of life. Applying thy intellect to this, and ascertaining the right and the wrong paths of creatures, follow thou the course adopted by thy sire before thee and govern properly thy kingdom. By good luck, O king, the sinful Duryodhana hath been slain with all his followers. By good luck, thou too hast attained to the condition of Draupadi's locks.[46] Perform with due rites and profuse presents the horse-sacrifice. We are thy servants, O son of Pritha, as also Vasudeva of great energy!"'" SECTION XVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Discontent, heedless attachment to earthly goods, the absence of tranquillity, might, folly, vanity, and anxiety,--affected by these sins, O Bhima, thou covetest sovereignty. Freed from desire, prevailing over joy and grief and attaining to tranquillity, strive thou to be happy. That peerless monarch who will govern this unbounded earth, will have but one stomach. Why dost thou then applaud this course of life? One's desires, O bull of Bharata's race, are incapable of being filled in a day, or in many months. Desire, which is incapable of gratification, cannot, indeed, be fitted in course of one's whole life. Fire, when fed with fuel, blazeth forth; when not so fed, it is extinguished. Do thou, therefore, extinguish with little food the fire in thy stomach when it appears. He that is bereft of wisdom seeks much food for his stomach. Conquer thy stomach first. (Thou shalt then be able to conquer the Earth). The earth being conquered, that which is for thy permanent good will then be won by thee. Thou applaudest desires and enjoyments and prosperity. They, however, that have renounced all enjoyments and reduced their bodies by penances, attain to regions of beatitude. The acquisition and preservation of kingdom is attended with both righteousness and unrighteousness. The desire for them exists in thee. Free thyself, however, from thy great burthens, and adopt renunciation. The tiger, for filling one stomach of his, slaughters many animals. Other animals destitute of strength and moved by covetousness live upon the tiger's prey.[47] If kings, accepting earthly possessions, practise renunciation, they can never have contentment. Behold the loss of understanding that is noticeable in them. As a matter of fact, however, they who subsist on leaves of trees, or use two stones only or their teeth alone for husking their grain, or live upon water only or air alone, succeed in conquering hell.[48] That king who rules this wide unbounded earth, and that person who regards gold and pebbles equally, amongst these two, the latter is said to have attained the object of his life and not the former. Depending, therefore, upon that which is the eternal refuge of joy both here and hereafter, cease thou to act and hope with respect to thy wishes and cease to bear attachment to them. They that have given up desire and enjoyment have never to grieve. Thou, however, grievest for enjoyments.[49] Discarding desire and enjoyment, thou mayst succeed in liberating thyself from false speech.[50] There are two well-known paths (for us), viz., the path of the Pitris and the path of the gods. They that perform sacrifices go by the Pitri-path, while they that are for salvation, go by the god-path.[51] By penances, by Brahmacharya, by study (of the Vedas), the great Rishis, casting off their bodies, proceeded to regions that are above the power of Death. Worldly enjoyments have been styled as bonds. They have also been called Action. Liberated from those two sins (viz., bonds and action), one attains to the highest end. Mention is made of a verse sung (of old) by Janaka who was freed from the pairs of opposites, liberated from desire and enjoyments, and observant of the religion of Moksha. That verse runs thus: 'My treasures are immense, yet I have nothing! If again the whole of Mithila were burnt and reduced to ashes, nothing of mine will be burnt!' As a person on the hill-top looketh down upon men on the plain below, so he that has got up on the top of the mansion of knowledge, seeth people grieving for things that do not call for grief. He, however, that is of foolish understanding, does not see this. He who, casting his eyes on visible things, really seeth them, is said to have eyes and understanding. The faculty called understanding is so called because of the knowledge and comprehension it gives of unknown and incomprehensible things. He who is acquainted with the words of persons that are learned, that are of cleansed souls, and that have attained to a state of Brahma, succeeds in obtaining great honours. When one seeth creatures of infinite diversity to be all one and the same and to be but diversified emanations from the same essence, one is then said to have attained Brahma.[52] Those who reach this high state of culture attain to that supreme and blissful end, and not they who are without knowledge, or they who are of little and narrow souls, or they who are bereft of understanding, or they who are without penances. Indeed, everything rests on the (cultivated) understanding!"'" SECTION XVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'When Yudhishthira, after saying these words, became silent, Arjuna, afflicted by that speech of the king, and burning with sorrow and grief, once more addressed his eldest brother, saying, "People recite this old history, O Bharata, about the discourse between the ruler of the Videhas and his queen. That history has reference to the words which the grief-stricken spouse of the ruler of the Videhas had said to her lord when the latter, abandoning his kingdom, had resolved to lead a life of mendicancy. Casting off wealth and children and wives and precious possessions of various kinds and the established path for acquiring religious merit and fire itself,[53] King Janaka shaved his head (and assumed the garb of a mendicant). His dear spouse beheld him deprived of wealth, installed in the observance of the vow of mendicancy, resolved to abstain from inflicting any kind of injury on others, free from vanity of every kind, and prepared to subsist upon a handful of barley fallen off from the stalk and to be got by picking the grains from crevices in the field. Approaching her lord at a time when no one was with him, the queen, endued with great strength of mind, fearlessly and in wrath, told him these words fraught with reason: 'Why hast thou adopted a life of mendicancy, abandoning thy kingdom full of wealth and corn? A handful of fallen off barley cannot be proper for thee. Thy resolution tallies not with thy acts,[54] since abandoning thy large kingdom thou covetest, O king, a handful of grain! With this handful of barley, O king, wilt thou succeed in gratifying thy guests, gods, Rishis and Pitris? This thy labour, therefore, is bootless. Alas, abandoned by all these, viz., gods, guests, and Pitris, thou leadest a life, of wandering mendicancy, O king, having cast off all action. Thou wert, before this, the supporter of thousands of Brahmanas versed in the three Vedas and of many more besides. How canst thou desire to beg of them thy own food today? Abandoning thy blazing prosperity, thou castest thy eyes around like a dog (for his food). Thy mother hath today been made sonless by thee, and thy spouse, the princess of Kosala, a widow. These helpless Kshatriyas, expectant of fruit and religious merit, wait upon thee, placing all their hopes on thee. By killing those hopes of theirs, to what regions shalt thou go, O king, especially when salvation is doubtful and creatures are dependent on actions?[55] Sinful as thou art, thou hast neither this world nor the other, since thou wishest to live, having cast off thy wedded wife?[56] Why, indeed, dost thou lead a life of wandering mendicancy, abstaining from all actions, after having abandoned garlands and perfumes and ornaments and robes of diverse kinds? Having been, as it were, a large and sacred lake unto all creatures, having been a mighty tree worthy of adoration and granting its shelter unto all, alas, how canst thou wait upon and worship others? If even an elephant desists from all work, carnivorous creatures coming in packs and innumerable worms would eat it up. What need be said of thyself that art so powerless?[57] How couldst thy heart be set on that mode of life which recommends an earthen pot, and a triple-headed stick, and which forces one to abandon his very clothes and which permits the acceptance of only a handful of barley after abandonment of everything? If, again, thou sayest that a kingdom and a handful of barley are the same to thee, then why dost thou abandon the former! If, again, a handful of barley becomes an object of attachment with thee, then, thy original resolution (of abandoning everything) falls to the ground. If, again, thou canst act up to thy resolution of abandoning everything, then who am I to thee, who art thou to me, and what can be thy grace to me?[58] If thou beest inclined to grace, rule then this Earth! They that are desirous of happiness but are very poor and indigent and abandoned by friends may adopt renunciation. But he who imitates those men by abandoning palatial mansions and beds and vehicles and robes and ornaments, acts improperly, indeed. One always accepts gifts made by others; another always makes gifts. Thou knowest the difference between the two. Who, indeed, of these two shouldst be regarded the superior? If a gift be made to one who always accepts gifts, or to one that is possessed of pride, that gift becomes bootless like the clarified butter that is poured upon a forest-conflagration.[59] As a fire, O king, never dies till it has consumed all that has been thrown into it, even so a beggar can never be silenced till he receives a donative. In this world, the food that is given by a charitable person is the sure support of the pious. If, therefore, the king does not give (food) where will the pious that are desirous of salvation go?[60] They that have food (in their houses) are house-holders. Mendicants are supported by them. Life flows from food. Therefore, the giver of food is the giver of life. Coming out from among those that lead a domestic mode of life, mendicants depend upon those very persons from whom they come. Those self-restrained men, by doing this, acquire and enjoy fame and power. One is not to be called a mendicant for his having only renounced his possessions, or for his having only adopted a life of dependence on eleemosynary charity. He who renounces the possessions and pleasures of the world in a sincere frame of mind is to be regarded a true mendicant.[61] Unattached at heart, though attached in outward show, standing aloof from the world, having broken all his bonds, and regarding friend and foe equally, such a man, O king, is regarded to be emancipated! Having shaved their heads clean and adopted the brown robe, men may be seen to betake themselves to a life of wandering mendicancy, though bound by various ties and though ever on the lookout for bootless wealth. They who, casting off the three Vedas, their usual occupations, and children, adopt a life of mendicancy by taking up the triple-headed crutch and the brown robe, are really persons of little understanding. Without having cast off anger and other faults, the adoption of only the brown robe, know, O king, is due to the desire of earning the means of sustenance. Those persons of clean-shaven heads that have set up the banner of virtue, have this only (viz., the acquisition of sustenance) for their object in life. Therefore, O king, keeping thy passions under control, do thou win regions of bliss hereafter by supporting them that are truly pious amongst men of matted locks or clean-shaven heads, naked or clad in rags, or skins or brown robes. Who is there that is more virtuous than he who maintains his sacred fire, who performs sacrifices with presents of animals and Dakshina, and who practises charity day and night?'" "'Arjuna continued, "King Janaka is regarded to have been a truth-knowing person in this world. Even he, in this matter (viz., the ascertainment of duty) had become stupefied. Do not yield to stupefaction! Even thus the duties of Domesticity are observed by persons practising charity. By abstaining from injuries of all kinds, by casting off desire and wrath, by being engaged in protecting all creatures, by observing the excellent duty of charity, and lastly by cherishing superiors and persons of age, we shall succeed in attaining such regions of bliss as we like. By duly gratifying gods, guests, and all creatures, by worshipping Brahmanas, and by truthfulness of speech, we shall certainly attain to desirable regions of bliss."'" SECTION XIX "'Yudhishthira said, "I am conversant with both the Vedas and the scriptures that lead to the attainment of Brahma. In the Vedas there are precepts of both kinds, viz., those that inculcate action and those that inculcate renouncement of action. The scriptures are confounding and their conclusions are based upon reasons. The truth, however, that is in the Mantras, is duly known to me. Thou art conversant only with weapons and observant of the practices of heroes. Thou art unable to understand truly the sense of the scriptures. If thou wert really acquainted with duty, then thou couldst have understood that words such as these ought not to have been addressed to me by even one possessed of the clearest insight into the meaning of the scriptures and acquainted with the truths of religion. That, however, which thou hast said unto me, induced by fraternal affection, has been fit and proper, O son of Kunti! I am, for that, pleased with thee, O Arjuna! There is no one equal to thee in the three worlds in all duties connected with battle and in skill in respect of diverse kinds of acts. Thou mayst, therefore, speak of the subtleties connected with those subjects,--subtleties, that is, that are impenetrable by others. It behoveth thee not, however, O Dhananjaya, to doubt my intelligence. Thou art conversant with the science of battle, but thou hast never waited upon the aged. Thou knowest not the conclusions arrived at by those that have studied the subject in brief and detail. Even this is the conclusion of intelligent men whose understanding are bent on achieving salvation, viz., that amongst ascetic penances, renunciation, and knowledge of Brahma, the second is superior to the first, and the third is superior to the second. This, however, that thou thinkest, viz., that there is nothing superior to wealth, is an error. I will convince thee of it, so that wealth may not again appear to thee in that light. All men that are righteous are seen to be devoted to ascetic penances and the study of the Vedas. The Rishis also, that have many eternal regions for them, have the merit of penances. Others possessed of tranquillity of soul, having no enemies, and dwelling in the woods, have, through penances and study of the Vedas, proceeded to heaven. Pious men, by restraining desire for worldly possessions, and casting off that darkness which is born of folly, proceed northward (i.e., by luminous paths) to the regions reserved for practisers of renunciation. The path that lies to the south and that leads to regions of light (i.e., lunar regions), are reserved for men devoted to action. These are attained by persons subject to birth and death. That end, however, which persons desirous of salvation have before their eyes, is indescribable. Yoga is the best means for attaining to it. It is not easy to explain it (to thee). Those that are learned live, reflecting on the scriptures from desire of finding what is unreal. They are, however, often led away to this and to that in the belief that the object of their search exists in this and that. Having mastered, however, the Vedas, the Aranyakas, and the other scriptures, they miss the real, like men failing to find solid timber in an uprooted banana plant. Some there are who, disbelieving in its unity, regard the Soul, that dwells in this physical frame consisting of the five elements, to be possessed of the attributes of desire and aversion (and others).[62] Incapable of being seen by the eye, exceedingly subtle, and inexpressible by words, it revolves in a round (of re-births) among the creatures of the earth, keeping before it that which is the root of action.[63] Having made the Soul advance towards itself which is the spring of every kind of blessedness, having restrained all desires of the mind, and having cast off all kinds of action, one may become perfectly independent and happy. When there is such a path that is trod by the righteous and that is attainable by Knowledge, why, O Arjuna, dost thou applaud wealth which is full of every kind of calamity? Men of olden times that were conversant with the scriptures, O Bharata,--men that were always engaged in gifts and sacrifice and action, were of this opinion, O Bharata! There are some fools who, accomplished in the science of argumentation, deny the existence of the Soul, in consequence of the strength of their convictions of a previous life. It is very difficult to make them accept this truth about final emancipation.[64] Those wicked men, though possessed of great learning, travel all over the earth, making speeches in assemblies, and deprecating the true doctrine about emancipation. O Partha, who else will succeed in understanding that which we do not understand? Indeed, (as those men cannot understand the true meaning of the scriptures), similarly they cannot succeed in knowing those wise and pious persons that are truly great and that have deep acquaintance with the scriptures. O son of Kunti, men acquainted with truth obtain Brahma by asceticism and intelligence, and great happiness by renunciation."'" SECTION XX "Vaisampayana said, 'After Yudhishthira had stopped, the great ascetic Devasthana, possessed of eloquence, said these words, fraught with reason, unto the king. "'Devasthana said, "Phalguna has told thee that there is nothing superior to wealth. I shall discourse to thee on that subject. Listen to me with undivided attention. O Ajatasatru, thou hast righteously won the earth. Having won her, it behoves thee not, O king, to abandon her without cause. Four modes of life are indicated in the Vedas. Do thou, O king, duly pass through them, one after another. At present thou shouldst, therefore, perform great sacrifices with profuse presents. Amongst the very Rishis, some are engaged in the sacrifice represented by Vedic study, and some in that presented by knowledge. Therefore, O Bharata, thou must know that the very ascetics also are addicted to action. The Vaikhanasas, however, are said to preach that he who does not seek for wealth is superior to him that seeks for it.[65] I think that he who would follow that precept would incur many faults. Men collect together diverse things (for the performance of sacrifices) simply because of the (Vedic) ordinance. He who, tainted by his own understanding, giveth away wealth to an undeserving person without giving it to the deserving, doth not know that he incurs the sin of killing a foetus.[66] The exercise of the duty of charity after discriminating the deserving from the undeserving is not easy. The Supreme Ordainer created wealth for sacrifice, and He created man also for taking care of that wealth and for performing sacrifice. For this reason the whole of one's wealth should be applied to sacrifice. Pleasure would follow from it as a natural consequence. Possessed of abundant energy, Indra, by the performance of diverse sacrifices with profuse gifts of valuables, surpassed all the gods. Having got their chiefship by that means, he shineth in heaven. Therefore, everything should be applied to sacrifices. Clad in deer-skins, the high-souled Mahadeva, having poured his own self as a libation in the sacrifice called Sarva, became the first of gods, and surpassing all creatures in the universe and prevailing over them by means of that achievement, shines in resplendence. King Marutta, the son of Avikshit, by the profusion of his wealth, vanquished Sakra himself, the chief of the gods. In the great sacrifice he performed, all the vessels were of gold, and Sree herself came in person. Thou hast heard that the great king Harischandra, having performed sacrifices, earned great merit and great happiness. Though a man, he nevertheless vanquished Sakra by his wealth. For this reason everything should be applied to sacrifice."'" SECTION XXI "'Devasthana said, "In this connection is cited an old history, viz., the discourse that Vrihaspati, asked by Indra, delivered unto him. Vrihaspati said, 'Contentment is the highest heaven, contentment is the highest bliss. There is nothing higher than contentment. Contentment stands as the highest. When one draws away all his desires like a tortoise drawing in all its limbs, then the natural resplendence of his soul soon manifests itself. When one does not fear any creature, nor any creature is frightened at one, when one conquers one's desire and aversion, then is one said to behold one's soul. When one, indeed, in word and thought, seeks to injure nobody and cherishes no desire, one is said to attain to Brahma. Thus, O son of Kunti, whatever religion is followed by creatures, they obtain corresponding fruits. Awaken thyself by this consideration, O Bharata![67] Some praise Peacefulness, some praise Exertion; some there are that praise Contemplation; and some praise both Peacefulness and Exertion.[68] Some praise sacrifice; others, renunciation. Some praise gifts; others, acceptance. Some, abandoning everything, live in silent meditation. Some praise sovereignty and the cherishing of subjects, after slaying, cutting and piercing (foes). Some are for passing their days in retirement. Observing all this, the conclusion of the learned is that that religion which consists in not injuring any creature is worthy of the approbation of the righteous. Abstention from injury, truthfulness of speech, justice, compassion, self-restraint, procreation (of offspring) upon one's own wives, amiability, modesty, patience,--the practice of these is the best of a religions as said by the self-create Manu himself. Therefore, O son of Kunti, do thou observe this religion with care. That Kshatriya, who, conversant with the truths or royal duties, takes sovereignty upon himself, restraining his soul at all times, equally regarding that which is dear and that which is not, and subsisting upon the remains of sacrificial feasts, who is engaged in restraining the wicked and cherishing the righteous, who obliges his subjects to tread in the path of virtue and who himself treads in that path, who at last transmits his crown to his son and betakes himself to the woods, there to live on the products of the wilderness and act according to the ordinances or the Vedas after having cast off all idleness, that Kshatriya who conducts himself thus, conforming in everything to the well-known duties of kings, is sure to obtain excellent fruits in both this world and the next. That final emancipation, of which thou speakest, is exceedingly difficult to obtain, and its pursuit is attended with many impediments. They that adopt such duties and practise charity and ascetic penances, that are possessed of the quality of compassion and are freed from desire and wrath, that are engaged in ruling their subjects with righteousness and fighting for the sake of kine and Brahmanas, attain hereafter to a high end. For the Rudras with the Vasus and the Adityas, O scorcher of foes, and the Sadhyas and hosts of kings adopt this religion. Practising without heedlessness the duties inculcated by that religion, they attain to heaven through those acts of theirs.'"'" SECTION XXII "Vaisampayana said, 'After this, Arjuna once more addressed his eldest brother of unfading glory, viz., king Yudhishthira of cheerless heart, and said these words: "O thou that art conversant with every kind of duty, having by the practice of Kshatriya duties obtained sovereignty that is so very difficult of acquisition, and having conquered all thy foes, why dost thou burn in grief? O king, as regards Kshatriyas, death in battle is regarded more meritorious for them than the performance of diverse sacrifices. It is so declared in the ordinance that lays down the duties of Kshatriyas. Penances and Renunciation are the duties of Brahmanas. Even this is the ordinance (affecting the two orders) about the next world. Indeed, O puissant one, death in battle is laid down for Kshatriyas. The duties of Kshatriyas are exceedingly fierce and are always connected with the use of weapons, and it has been laid down, O chief of the Bharatas, that they should, when the time comes, perish by weapons on the field of battle. The life of even a Brahmana, O king, that lives in the observance of Kshatriya duties, is not censurable, for Kshatriyas also have sprung from Brahmana. Neither Renunciation, nor Sacrifice, nor Penances, nor dependence on the wealth of others, O ruler of men, has been ordained for Kshatriyas. Thou art acquainted with all duties, and thou art of righteous soul, O bull of Bharata's race! Thou art a wise king, skilled in all acts. Thou canst distinguish what is right in this world from what is wrong. Casting off this cheerlessness by repentance, address thyself with a strong will to action. The heart of a Kshatriya especially is hard as thunder. Having by the exercise of Kshatriya duties vanquished thy foes and acquired empire without a thorn in its side, conquer thy soul, O ruler of men, and be engaged in the performance of sacrifices and the practice of charity. Indra himself, though a Brahmana, became a Kshatriya in his acts, and battled with his sinful kinsfolk for eight hundred and ten times. Those acts of his, O monarch, are adorable and worthy of praise. Through them he obtained, as we have heard, the chiefship of the gods. Do thou, therefore, O monarch, perform sacrifices with profuse presents even as Indra did, O ruler of men, and thereby free thyself from thy fever. Do not, O bull among Kshatriyas, grieve thus for what is past. They that have been slain have attained to the highest end, sanctified by weapons and agreeably to the ordinances of the Kshatriya religion. That which has happened was ordained to happen. Destiny, O tiger among kings, is incapable of being resisted."'" SECTION XXIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Thus addressed by Arjuna of curly hair, the Kuru king born of Kunti remained speechless. Then the island-born (Vyasa) said these words. "'Vyasa said, "The words of Arjuna, O amiable Yudhishthira, are true. The highest religion, as declared by the scriptures, depends on the duties of domesticity. Thou art acquainted with all duties. Do thou then duly practise the duties prescribed for thee (viz., the duties of domesticity). A life of retirement in the woods, casting off the duties of domesticity, has not been laid down for thee. The gods, Pitris, guests, and servants, all depend (for their sustenance) upon the person leading a life of domesticity. Do thou then support all these, O lord of the earth! Birds and animals and various other creatures, O ruler of men, are supported by men leading domestic lives. He, therefore, that belongs to that mode of life is superior (to all others). A life of domesticity is the most difficult of all the four modes of life. Do thou practise that mode of life then, O Partha, which is difficult of being practised by persons of unrestrained sense. Thou hast a good knowledge of all the Vedas. Thou hast earned great ascetic merit. It behoveth thee, therefore, to bear like an ox the burthen of thy ancestral kingdom. Penances, sacrifices, forgiveness, learning, mendicancy, keeping the senses under control, contemplation, living in solitude, contentment, and knowledge (of Brahma), should, O king, be striven after by Brahmanas to the best of their ability for the attainment of success. I shall now tell thee the duties of Kshatriyas. They are not unknown to thee. Sacrifice, learning, exertion, ambition,[69] wielding 'the rod of punishment,' fierceness, protection of subjects, knowledge of the Vedas, practise of all kinds of penances, goodness of conduct, acquisition of wealth, and gifts to deserving persons,--these, O king, well performed and acquired by persons of the royal order, secure for them both this world and the next, as heard by us. Amongst these, O son of Kunti, wielding the rod of chastisement has been said to be the foremost. Strength must always reside in a Kshatriya, and upon strength depends chastisement. Those duties that I have mentioned are, O king, the principal ones for Kshatriyas and contribute greatly to their success. Vrihaspati, in this connection, sang this verse: 'Like a snake devouring a mouse, the Earth devours a king that is inclined to peace and a Brahmana that is exceedingly attached to a life of domesticity.' It is heard again that the royal sage Sudyumna, only by wielding the rod of chastisement, obtained the highest success, like Daksha himself, the son of Prachetas." "'Yudhishthira said, "O holy one, by what acts did Sudyumna, that lord of the earth, obtain the highest success? I desire to hear the history of that king!" "'Vyasa said, "In this connection is cited this old history. There were two brothers, viz., Sankha and Likhita, of rigid vows. The two brothers had two separate dwellings both of which were beautiful. Situate by the bank of the stream called Vahuda, both of those residences were adorned with trees that were always burthened with flowers and fruits. Once on a time Likhita came to the residence of his brother Sankha. At that time, however, Sankha had gone out of his asylum on no fixed purpose. Arrived at the asylum of his brother, Likhita plucked many ripe fruits. Obtaining them the regenerate Likhita began to eat them without any qualms of conscience. While still employed in the act of eating, Sankha came back to his retreat. Beholding him eating, Sankha addressed his brother, saying, 'Whence have these fruits been obtained and for what reason art thou eating them?' Approaching his elder brother and saluting him, Likhita smilingly replied, saying, 'I have taken them even from this retreat.' Filled with great rage, Sankha said unto him, 'Thou hast committed theft by thyself taking these fruits. Go and approaching the king confess to him what thou hast done. Tell him, O best of kings, I have committed the offence of approaching what was not given to me. Knowing me for a thief and observing the duty of thy order, do thou soon inflict upon me, O ruler of men, the punishment of a thief.' Thus addressed, the highly blessed Likhita of rigid vows, at the command of his brother, proceeded to king Sudyumna. Hearing from his gate-keepers that Likhita had come, king Sudyumna, with his counsellors, advanced (for receiving the sage). Meeting him, the king addressed that foremost of all persons conversant with duties, saying, 'Tell me, O revered one, the reason of thy coming. Regard it as already accomplished.' Thus questioned, that regenerate sage said unto Sudyumna, 'Do thou promise first that thou wilt achieve it. It will then behove thee, after hearing me, to accomplish that promise. O bull among men, I ate some fruits that had not been given me by my elder brother. Do thou, O monarch, punish me for it without delay.' Sudyumna answered, 'If the king be regarded as competent to wield the rod of chastisement, he should be regarded, O bull among Brahmanas, as equally competent to pardon. Purified in respect of thy act, O thou of high vows, consider thyself as pardoned. Tell me now what other wishes thou hast. I shall certainly accomplish those commands of thine!'" "'Vyasa continued, "Thus honoured by the high-souled king, the regenerate sage Likhita, however, did not solicit him for any other favour. Then that ruler of the earth caused the two hands of the high-souled Likhita to be cut off, whereupon the latter, bearing the punishment, went away. Returning to his brother Sankha, Likhita, in great affection, said, 'It behoveth thee now to pardon this wretch that hath been duly punished (for what he did).' Sankha said, 'I am not angry with thee, nor hast thou injured me, O foremost of all persons conversant with duties. Thy virtue, however, had suffered a shock. I have rescued thee from that plight. Proceed without delay to the river Vahuda and gratify duly, with oblations of water, the gods, Rishis and the Pitris, and never again set thy heart on sin.' Hearing these words of Sankha, Likhita performed his ablutions in the sacred stream and set about for commencing the water-rite. Upon this, two hands, resembling two lotuses, appeared at the extremities of his stumps. Filled with wonder he came back to his brother and showed him the two hands. Sankha said unto him, 'All this has been accomplished by me through my penances. Do not be surprised at it. Providence hath been the instrument here.' Likhita answered, 'O thou of great splendour, why didst thou not purify me at first, when, O best of regenerate ones, such was the energy of thy penances?' Sankha said, 'I should not have acted otherwise. I am not thy chastiser. The ruler (who has punished thee) has been himself purified, as also thyself, along with the Pitris!'" "'Vyasa continued, "That king, O eldest son of Pandu, became eminent by this act and obtained the highest success like the lord Daksha himself! Even this is the duty of Kshatriyas, viz., the ruling of subjects. Any other, O monarch, would be regarded as a wrong path for them. Do not give way to grief. O best of all persons conversant with duty, listen to the beneficial words of this thy brother. Wielding the rod of chastisement, O king, is the duty of kings and not the shaving of the head."'" SECTION XXIV "Vaisampayana said, 'Once more the great sage Krishna-Dwaipayana said these words unto Ajatasatru, the son of Kunti: "Let these great car-warriors of abundant energy of mind, O monarch, let these brothers of thine, O Yudhishthira, the chief of the Bharatas, obtain those wishes of theirs that they cherished while dwelling in the woods. Rule thou the earth, O son of Pritha, like (another) Yayati, the son of Nahusha. Before now misery was yours while ye dwelt in the woods in the observance of ascetic penances. That misery is ended, O tiger among men! Enjoy happiness, therefore, for some time. Having O Bharata, earned and enjoyed religious merit and wealth and pleasure for some time with thy brothers, thou mayst then, O king, retire into the woods. Be freed first, O Bharata, from the debt thou owest to persons that may beg of thee, to the Pitris, and to the gods. Thou mayst then, O son of Kunti, practise all the other modes of life (that come afterwards). Do thou, O son of Kuru's race, perform the sacrifices of Sarvamedha and Aswamedha. Thou shalt then attain, O monarch, to the highest end hereafter. Installing thy brothers also in great sacrifices with plentiful presents (to the Brahmanas), thou shalt, O son of Pandu, acquire great fame. There is a saying, O tiger among men and best of the Kurus! Listen to it, for by acting according to it, O king, thou shalt not swerve from virtue. Those men only, O Yudhishthira, whose practices resemble those of robbers, cause a king by their counsels to take to a career of war and victory.[70] That king who, guided by considerations of place and time and moved by an understanding dependent on the scriptures, pardons even a number of robbers, incurs no sin. That king who, realising his tribute of a sixth, doth not protect his kingdom, taketh a fourth part of the sins of his kingdom.[71] Listen also to that by which a king may not swerve from virtue. By transgressing the scriptures (one incurs sin), while by obeying them one may live fearlessly. That king who, guided by an understanding based upon the scriptures and disregarding lust and wrath, behaves impartially, like a father, towards all his subjects, never incurs sin. O thou of great splendour, if a king, afflicted by destiny, fails to accomplish an act which he should, such failure would not be called a trespass. By force and policy should the king put down his foes. He must not suffer sin to be perpetrated in his kingdom but should cause virtue to be practised. Brave men, those that are respectable in their practices, they that are virtuous in their acts, they that are possessed of learning, O Yudhishthira, Brahmanas conversant with Vedic texts and rites, and men of wealth, should especially be protected. In determining suits and accomplishing religious acts, they that are possessed of great learning should alone be employed. A prudent king will never repose his confidence upon one individual, however accomplished. That king who does not protect his subjects, whose passions are ungovernable, who is full of vanity, who is stained with haughtiness and malice, incurs sin and earns the reproach of tyranny. If the subjects of a king, O monarch, waste away from want of protection and are afflicted by the gods and ground down by robbers, the sin of all this stains the king himself. There is no sin, O Yudhishthira, in doing an act with heartiness, after full deliberation, and consultation with men capable of offering good advice. Our tasks fail or succeed through destiny. If exertion, however, be applied, sin would not touch the king. I shall recite to thee, O tiger among kings, the story of what happened to an ancient king of the name of Hayagriva, O son of Pandu,--the story, viz., of the heroic Hayagriva of unstained deeds, who after having slain a large number of his foes in battle, was himself defeated and slain while without a follower by his side. Having achieved all that should be done for keeping foes under check and adopted all those foremost of means by which men may be protected, Hayagriva acquired great fame from the battles he fought and is now enjoying great bliss in heaven. Mangled by robbers with weapons, boldly fighting with them, and casting off his life in battle, the high-souled Hayagriva, ever attentive to his (kingly) duties, achieved the object of his life and is now enjoying great bliss in heaven. The bow was his (sacrificial) stake and the bowstring was the cord for tying the victims. Shafts constituted the smaller ladle and the sword the large one, and blood was the clarified butter that he poured. The car was the altar and the wrath he felt in battle was the fire, and the four foremost of steeds yoked unto his vehicle were the four Hotris. Having poured upon that sacrificial fire his foes as libations and then his own life-breaths at the completion of the sacrifice, that vigorous lion among kings, viz., Hayagriva, became freed from sin and is now sporting in the regions of the gods. Having protected his kingdom with policy and intelligence, the high-souled Hayagriva of resigned self and great strength of mind and accustomed to the performance of sacrifices filled all the worlds with his fame and is now sporting in the region of the gods.[72] Having obtained the merit dependent on the performance of sacrifices as also every kind of merit that is connected with human affairs, he wielded the rod of chastisement and ruled the Earth with vigour and without pride. For this the virtuous and high-souled Hayagriva is sporting in the region of the gods.[73] Possessed of learning, practising renunciation, actuated by faith, and full of gratitude, that king, having performed diverse acts, left this world of men and won the regions that are reserved for the intelligent and the wise and those that are of approved usages and behaviour and prepared to cast off their lives in battle. Having studied the Vedas well and the other scriptures also, having ruled his kingdom properly and caused all the four orders to adhere to their respective duties, the high-souled Hayagriva is sporting in joy in the regions of the gods. Having won many battles and cherished his subjects, having drunk the Soma juice in sacrifices and gratified the foremost of Brahmanas with presents and judiciously wielded the rod of chastisement over those placed under his sway and at last cast off his life in battle, that king is living happily in heaven. His life was worthy of every praise. Learned and honest men applaud it, deserving as it is of every applause. Having won heaven and acquired the regions reserved for heroes, that high-souled monarch of virtuous deeds became crowned with success."'" SECTION XXV "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing the words of the Island-born Rishi and seeing Dhananjaya angry, Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, saluted Vyasa and made the following answer. "'Yudhishthira said, "This earthly sovereignty and the diverse enjoyments (appertaining thereto) fail to give any joy to my heart. On the other hand, this poignant grief (consequent upon the loss of my kinsmen) is eating away its core. Hearing the lamentations of these women who have lost their heroic husbands and children, I fail to attain peace, O sage!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed, the virtuous Vyasa that foremost of all persons conversant with Yoga, possessed of great wisdom and intimately acquainted with the Vedas, said unto Yudhishthira (the following words). "'Vyasa said, "No man can acquire anything by his own acts or by sacrifices and worship. No man can give anything to a fellow man. Man acquires everything through Time. The Supreme Ordainer has made the course of Time the means of acquisition. By mere intelligence or study of the scriptures, men, if Time be unfavourable, cannot acquire any earthly possession. Sometimes an ignorant fool may succeed in winning wealth. Time is the efficacious means for the accomplishment of all acts. During times of adversity, neither science, nor incantations, nor drugs, yield any fruits. In times, however, of prosperity, those very things, properly applied, become efficacious and bear success. By Time the winds blow violently; by Time the clouds become rain-charged; by Time tanks become adorned with lotuses of different kinds; by Time trees in the forest become decked with flowers. By Time nights become dark or lighted. By Time the Moon becomes full. If the Time for it does not come, trees do not bear flowers and fruits. If the Time for it does not come, the currents of rivers do not become fierce. Birds and snakes and deer and elephants and other animals never become excited when the Time for it does not come. If the Time for it does not come, women do not conceive. It is with Time that winter, and summer, and the rainy season come. If the Time for it does not come, no one is born and no one dies. If the Time does not come, the infant does not acquire power of speech. If the Time does not come, one does not acquire youth. It is with Time that the seed sown puts forth its sprouts. If the Time does not come, the Sun does not appear above the horizon, nor, when the Time for it does not come, does he repair to the Asta hills. If the Time for it does not come, the Moon does not wax nor wane, nor the ocean, with its high billows, rise and ebb. In this connection is instanced the old story recited, O Yudhishthira, by king Senajit in grief. The irresistible course of Time affects all mortals. All earthly things, ripened by Time, suffer destruction. Some, O king, slay some men. The slayers, again, are slain by others. This is the language of the world. Really, however, no one slays and no one is slain. Some one thinks men slay (their fellow-men). Another thinks men do not slay. The truth is that the birth and destruction of all creatures have been ordained to happen in consequence of their very nature. Upon the loss of one's wealth or the death of one's wife or son or sire, one cries out, saying 'Alas, what grief!' and dwelling upon that sorrow always enhances it. Why do you, like a foolish person, indulge in grief? Why do you grieve for them that are subject to grief?[74] Behold, grief is increased by indulgence as fear is by yielding to. This body even is not mine. Nothing in this earth is mine. Or, the things of this earth belong as much to others as to me. The wise, seeing this, do not suffer themselves to be deluded. There are thousands of causes for sorrow, and hundreds of causes for joy. These every day affect the ignorant only, but not him that is wise. These, in course of Time, become objects of affection or aversion, and appearing as bliss or woe revolve (as if in a wheel) for affecting living creatures. There is only sorrow in this world but no happiness. It is for this that sorrow only is felt. Indeed, sorrow springs from that affliction called desire, and happiness springs from the affliction called sorrow. Sorrow comes after happiness, and happiness after sorrow. One does not always suffer sorrow or always enjoy happiness. Happiness always ends in sorrow, and sometimes proceeds from sorrow itself. He, therefore, that desires eternal happiness must abandon both. When sorrow must arise upon the expiration of happiness, and happiness upon the expiration of sorrow, one should, for that, cast off, like a (snake-bit) limb of one's body, that from which one experiences sorrow or that heart-burning which is nurtured by sorrow or that which is the root of his anxiety.[75] Be it happiness or sorrow, be it agreeable or disagreeable, whatever comes should be borne with an unaffected heart. O amiable one, if thou abstainest, in even a slight measure, from doing what is agreeable to your wives and children, thou shalt then know who is whose and why so and for what. They that are highly stupid and they that are masters of their souls enjoy happiness here. They however, that occupy an intermediate place suffer misery. This, O Yudhishthira, is what Senajit of great wisdom said, that person who was conversant with what is good or bad in this world, with duties, and with happiness and misery. He who is grieved at other people's griefs can never be happy. There is no end of grief, and grief arises from happiness itself. Happiness and misery, prosperity and adversity, gain and loss, death and life, in their turn, wait upon all creatures. For this reason the wise man of tranquil soul should neither be elated with joy nor be depressed with sorrow. To be engaged in battle has been said to be the Sacrifice for a king; a due observance of the science of chastisement is his Yoga; and the gift of wealth in sacrifices in the form of Dakshina is his Renunciation. All these should be regarded as acts that sanctify him. By governing the kingdom with intelligence and policy, casting off pride, performing sacrifices, and looking at everything and all persons with kindness and impartiality, a high-souled king, after death, sports in the region of the gods. By winning battles, protecting his kingdom, drinking the Soma juice, advancing his subjects, wielding judiciously the rod of Chastisement, and casting off his body at last in fight, a king enjoys happiness in heaven. Having studied all the Vedas and the other scriptures duly, having protected the kingdom properly, and having caused all the four orders to adhere to their respective duties, a king becomes sanctified and finally sports in heaven. He is the best of kings whose conduct, even after his death, is applauded by the inhabitants of city and country and by his counsellors and friends."'" SECTION XXVI "Vaisampayana said, 'In this connection, the high-souled Yudhishthira said unto Arjuna these words fraught with reason. "Thou thinkest, O Partha, that there is nothing superior to wealth, and that the poor man can neither have heaven, nor happiness, nor the acquisition of his wishes. This, however, is not true. Many persons are seen that have been crowned with success through sacrifice in the shape of Vedic study. Many sages are seen by devotion to penances to have acquired eternal regions of bliss. They, O Dhananjaya, who always observe the practices of the Rishis by betaking themselves to Brahmacharya and who become acquainted with all duties, are regarded by the gods as Brahmanas. O Dhananjaya, thou shouldst always regard those Rishis that are devoted to the study of the Vedas and those that are devoted to the pursuit of true knowledge as persons that are truly virtuous. O son of Pandu, all our acts depend upon those that are devoted to the acquisition of true knowledge.[76] We know this to be the opinion of the Vaikhanasas, O puissant one! The Ajas, the Prishnis, the Sikatas, O Bharata, the Arunas, and the Kitavas, have all gone to heaven through the merit of Vedic study. By performing those acts, O Dhananjaya, that are indicated in the Vedas, viz., battle, study of the Vedas, sacrifices, the restraint of passion that is so difficult, one goes to heaven by the southern path of the Sun (Dakshinayana). I have, before this, told thee that those very regions belong to persons that are observant of (Vedic) acts. Thou shalt see, however, that the northern path (Uttarayana) is travelled by those that are devoted to Yoga penances. Those eternal and bright regions to which that path leads belong to men of Yoga. Of these two, the northern path is much applauded by those conversant with the Puranas. Thou shouldst know that one acquires heaven through contentment. From contentment springs great happiness. There is nothing higher than contentment. Unto the Yogin who has controlled wrath and joy, contentment is his high praise and success. In this connection is cited the discourse by Yayati of old. Listening to that discourse one may succeed in withdrawing all his desires like a tortoise drawing in all his limbs. When one cherishes no fear of anything, when one is not feared by anything, when one cherishes no desire, when one bears no hate, then is one said to have attained to the state of Brahma. When one does not bear sinfully towards any creature, in act, thought, or word, one is then said to have attained to Brahma. When one has controlled his pride and folly, and withdrawn himself from all attachments, it is then that that pious man of irradiated soul becomes fit for attaining to that salvation which consists in the annihilation of separate existence. Listen now to me with concentrated attention, O son of Pritha, as I say it unto thee. Some desire virtue; some, good conduct; and some wealth. One may desire wealth (as a means for the acquisition of virtue). The abandonment, however, of such desire would be better for him.[77] There are many faults attached to wealth and consequently to those religious acts that are performed with wealth. We have seen it with our own eyes. It behoveth thee also to see this. He that desires wealth finds it very difficult to abandon that which should by every means be abandoned. Good deeds are very rare in those that amass riches. It is said that wealth can never be acquired without injuring others, and that, when earned, it brings numerous troubles. A person of narrow heart, setting at naught the fear of repentance, commits acts of aggression towards others, tempted by even a little wealth, unconscious all the while of the sin of Brahmanicide that he incurs by his acts. Obtaining wealth which is so difficult of acquisition, one burns with grief if one has to give a portion of it to one's servants,--with grief, that is, which is equal to what one would feel if one is actually robbed by depredators. If, on the other hand, one does not part with one's wealth, obloquy becomes one's share. One, however, that has no wealth, never becomes the subject of censure. Withdrawn from all attachments, such a person can become happy in all respects by supporting life upon what little he may obtain as alms. No one, however, can be happy by the acquisition of wealth. In this connection certain verses relating to sacrifices are recited by persons conversant with ancient scriptures. Wealth was created by the Creator for the sake of sacrifices, and man was created by him for protecting that wealth and performing sacrifices. For this, all wealth should be applied to sacrifices. It is not proper that it should be spent for the gratification of desire of enjoyment. The Creator then confers wealth upon mortals for the sake of sacrifices. Know this, O son of Kunti, thou that art the foremost of all wealthy persons! It is for this that the wise think that wealth, without doubt, is nobody's on earth. One should perform sacrifices with it and give it away with a trustful heart. One should spend (in gift) what one has acquired, and not waste or spend it in gratifying one's desire of enjoyment. What use is there in amassing wealth when such proper objects exist in which to spend it? Those persons of little understanding that give away (wealth) unto men that have swerved from the duties of their order, have to subsist hereafter for a hundred years on ordure and dirt. That men give unto the undeserving and refrain from giving unto the deserving is due to inability to discriminate between the deserving and the undeserving. For this reason the practice of even the virtue of charity is difficult. These are the two faults connected with wealth even when acquired, viz., gift to an undeserving person and abstaining from giving unto him that is deserving."'" SECTION XXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "In consequence of the fall of Abhimanyu of tender years, of the sons of Draupadi, of Dhrishtadyumna, of Virata, of king Drupada, of Vasusena conversant with every duty, of the royal Dhrishtaketu, and of diverse other kings hailing from diverse regions, in battle, grief does not forsake my wretched self that am a slayer of kinsmen. Indeed, I am inordinately covetous of kingdom and am an exterminator of my own race. He upon whose breast and limbs I used to roll in sport, alas, that Ganga's son has been slain by me in battle through lust of sovereignty. When I beheld that lion among men, viz., our grandsire, assailed by Sikhandin and trembling and reeling in consequence of Partha's shafts that resembled thunder-bolts in energy, when I beheld his tall form pierced all over with blazing arrows and himself become weak like an aged lion, my heart was deeply pained. When I beheld that afflictor of hostile cars reel like a mountain summit and fall down strengthless on the terrace of his own vehicle with his face turned towards the east, my senses were stupefied. That scion of Kuru's race who with bow and shaft in hand had contended in fierce battle for many days with Rama himself of Bhrigu's line on the field sanctified by Kuru, that son of Ganga, that hero, who, at Baranasi, for the sake of brides, had, on a single car, challenged to battle the assembled Kshatriyas of the world, he who had burnt by the energy of his weapons that irresistible and foremost of kings, viz., Ugrayudha, alas, that hero has been caused by me to be slain in battle. Knowing full well that Sikhandin the prince of Panchala was his destroyer, that hero still refrained from slaying the prince with his shafts. Alas, such a magnanimous warrior was slain by Arjuna. O best of sages, at that moment when I beheld the grandsire stretched on the earth and covered with blood, a violent fever afflicted my heart. He who had protected and reared us when we were children, alas, he was caused to be slain by my sinful self that am covetous of kingdom, that am a slayer of reverend seniors, and a perfect fool, for the sake of sovereignty that would last but a few days. Our preceptor, the great archer Drona, adored by all the kings, was approached by me and addressed falsely in respect of his son. The memory of that act of mine is burning all my limbs. The preceptor said unto me, 'Tell me truly, O king, whether my son liveth still.' Expecting truth from me, the Brahmana asked me of all others. By silently uttering the word 'elephant,' I behaved falsely towards him. Sinful that I am, exceedingly covetous of kingdom, and a slayer of my reverend seniors, I behaved even thus towards my preceptor in battle, throwing off the garb of truth (which I was believed to wear), for I said unto him that Aswatthaman had been killed when, in fact, an elephant of that name had been slain. To what regions shall I go (thereafter), having perpetrated such infamous deeds? I caused also my eldest brother Karna to be slain, that terrible warrior who never retreated from battle. Who is there more sinful than I? Through covetousness I caused Abhimanyu of tender years, that hero who resembled a lion born in the hills, to penetrate into the array that was protected by Drona himself. I am like one guilty of infanticide. Sinful as I am, I have not since then, been able to look Arjuna or the lotus-eyed Krishna in the face. I grieve also for Draupadi who is bereft of her five sons like the Earth bereft of her five mountains. I am a great offender, a great sinner, and a destroyer of the earth! Without rising from this seat that I now occupy, I will weaken my body (by starvation) and meet with death. Know me who am the slayer of my preceptor as one that has sat down here in the observance of the Praya vow. An exterminator of my race, I must do so in order that I may not he reborn in any of other orders of beings![78] I shall forgo all food and drink, and without moving from this place, O great ascetic, shall dry up my life-breaths that are so dear. I pray you with humility, grant me permission in this and go whithersoever you please. Let every one grant me permission. I shall cast off this body of mine."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Restraining Pritha's son who, stupefied by sorrow on account of his kinsmen, uttered such words, Vyasa, that best of ascetics, spoke as follows, first telling him, "This can not be!" "'Vyasa said, "It behoveth thee not, O monarch, to indulge in such poignant grief. I shall repeat what I have once said. All this is Destiny, O puissant one! Without doubt, all creatures that are born display at first a union (of diverse materials and forces). Dissolution, however, overtakes them at the end. Like bubbles in the water they rise and disappear. All things massed together are sure to crumble away and all things that rise must fall down. Union ends in dissolution and life ends in death. Idleness, though temporarily agreeable, ends in misery, and labour with skill, though temporarily painful, ends in happiness. Affluence, Prosperity, Modesty, Contentment, and Fame dwell in labour and skill but not in idleness. Friends are not competent to bestow happiness, nor foes competent to inflict misery. Similarly wisdom does not bring wealth nor does wealth bring happiness. Since, O son of Kunti, thou hast been created by the Maker to engage thyself in Work. Success springs from Work. Thou art not fit, O king, to avoid Work."'" SECTION XXVIII "Vaisampayana said, 'Vyasa then dispelled the grief of the eldest son of Pandu, who, burning with sorrow on account of the slaughter of his kinsmen, had resolved to make an end of himself. "'Vyasa said, "In this connection is cited the old story, O tiger among men, that is known by the name of Asma's discourse. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! Janaka the ruler of the Videhas, O king, filled with sorrow and grief, questioned a wise Brahmana of the name of Asma for the resolution of his doubts. "'"Janaka said, 'How should a man desirous of his own good behave upon occasions of the accession and the destruction of both kinsmen and wealth?' "'"Asma said, 'Immediately after the formation of a man's body, joys and griefs attach themselves to it. Although there is a possibility of either of the two overtaking the person, yet whichever actually overtakes him quickly robs him of his reason like the wind driving away gathering clouds. (In times of prosperity) one thinks in this strain, viz., "I am of high birth! I can do whatever I like!--I am not an ordinary man!" His mind becomes soaked with such triple vanity. Addicted to all earthly enjoyments, he begins to waste the wealth hoarded by his ancestors. Impoverished in course of time, he regards the appropriation of what belongs to others as even laudable. Like a hunter piercing a deer with his shafts, the king then punishes that wicked wight, that robber of other people's possessions, that transgressor of law and rule. Without attaining to a hundred years (the usual period of human life), such men scarcely live beyond twenty or thirty years. Carefully observing the behaviour of all creatures, a king should, by the exercise of his intelligence, apply remedies for alleviating the great sorrows of his subjects. The causes of all mental sorrow are two, viz., delusion of the mind and the accession of distress. No third cause exists. All these diverse kinds of woe as also those arising from attachment to earthly enjoyments, that overtake man, are even such.[79] Decrepitude and Death, like a pair of wolves, devour all creatures, strong or weak, short or tall. No man can escape decrepitude and death, not even the subjugator of the whole earth girt by the sea. Be it happiness or be it sorrow that comes upon creatures, it should be enjoyed or borne without elation or depression. There is no method of escape from them. The evils of life, O king, overtake one in early or middle or old age. They can never be avoided, while those (sources of bliss) that are coveted never come.[80] The absence of what is agreeable, the presence of what is disagreeable, good and evil, bliss and woe, follow Destiny. Similarly, the birth of creatures and their death, and the accessions of gain and loss, are all pre-ordained. Even as scent, colour, taste, and touch spring naturally, happiness and misery arise from what has been pre-ordained. Seats and beds and vehicles, prosperity and drink and food, ever approach, leaving creatures according to Time's course.[81] Physicians even get ill. The strong become weak. They that are in the enjoyment of prosperity lose all and become indigent. The course of Time is very wonderful. High birth, health, beauty, prosperity, and objects of enjoyment, are all won through Destiny. The indigent, although they may not desire it, have many children. The affluent again are seen to be childless. Wonderful is the course of Destiny. The evils caused by disease, fire, water, weapons, hunger, poison, fever, and death, and falls from high places, overtake a man according to the Destiny under which he is born. It is seen in this world that somebody without sinning, suffers diverse ills, while another, having sinned, is not borne down by the weight of calamity. It is seen that somebody in the enjoyment of wealth perishes in youth; while some one that is poor drags on his existence, borne down by decrepitude, for a hundred years. One borne in an ignoble race may have a very long life, while one sprung from a noble line perishes soon like an insect. In this world, it is very common that persons in affluent circumstances have no appetite, while they that are indigent can digest chips of wood. Impelled by destiny, whatever sins the man of wicked soul, discontented with his condition, commits, saying, "I am the doer," he regards to be all for his good. Hunting, dice, women, wine, brawls, these are censured by the wise. Many persons, however, possessed of even extensive knowledge of the scriptures are seen to be addicted to them. Objects, whether coveted or otherwise, come upon creatures in consequence of Time's course. No other cause can be traced. Air, space, fire, moon, sun, day, night, the luminous bodies (in the firmament), rivers, and mountains,--who makes them and who supports them? Cold, and heat, and rain, come one after another in consequence of Time's course. It is even so, O bull among men, with the happiness and the misery of mankind. Neither medicines, nor incantations, can rescue the man assailed by decrepitude or overtaken by death. As two logs of wood floating on the great ocean, come together and are again (when the time comes) separated, even so creatures come together and are again (when the time comes) separated. Time acts equally towards those men that (are in affluent circumstances and that) enjoy the pleasures of song and dance in the company of women and those helpless men that live upon the food that others supply. In this world a thousand kinds of relationship are contracted, such as mother and father and son and wife. In reality, however, whose are they and whose are we? No one can become anyone's own, nor can anyone become anybody else's own. Our union here with wives and kinsfolk and well-wishers is like that of travellers at a road-side inn. Where am I? Where shall go? Who am I? How come I here? What for and whom I grieve? Reflecting on these questions one obtains tranquillity. Life and its environments are constantly revolving like a wheel, and the companionship of those that are dear is transitory. The union with brother, mother, father, and friend is like that of travellers in an inn. Men of knowledge behold, as if with corporeal eyes, the next world that is unseen. Without disregarding the scriptures, one desirous of knowledge should have faith. One possessed of knowledge should perform the rites laid down in respect of the Pitris and the gods, practise all religious duties, perform sacrifices, judiciously pursue virtue, profit, and pleasure. Alas, no one understands that the world is sinking on the ocean of Time that is so very deep and that is infested with those huge crocodiles called decrepitude and death. Many physicians may be seen afflicted with all the members of their families, although they have carefully studied the science of Medicine.[82] Taking bitters and diverse kinds of oily drugs, these succeed not in escaping death, like ocean in transcending its continents. Men well-versed in chemistry, notwithstanding chemical compounds applied judiciously, are seen to be broken down by decrepitude like trees broken down by elephants. Similarly, persons possessed of ascetic merit, devoted to study of the Vedas, practising charity, and frequently performing sacrifices, succeed not in escaping decrepitude and death. As regards all creatures that have taken birth, neither years, nor months, nor fortnights, nor days, nor nights, that have once passed, do ever return. Man, whose existence is so transitory, is forced, in course of Time, whether he will or not, to come upon this inevitable and broad path that has to be trodden by every creature.[83] Whether the body springs from the creature or the creature springs from the body, one's union however, with wives and other friends is like that of travellers in an inn.[84] One cannot obtain a lasting companionship with anyone. One cannot obtain such companionship with one's own body. How then it can be had with anyone else? Where, O king, is thy sire today and where thy grandsire? Thou beholdst them not today and they do not behold thee. O sinless one! No person can see either heaven or hell. The scriptures, however, are the eyes of the virtuous. O king, frame thy conduct according to the scriptures. With pure heart, one should practise first the vow of Brahmacharya and then beget children and then perform sacrifices, for paying off the debt one owes to the Pitris, the gods, and men. Performing sacrifices and engaged in procreating (children), after having first observed the vow of Brahmacharya, one who hath wisdom for his eyes, casting off all anxiety of heart, should pay court to heaven, this world, and his own soul.[85] That king bent upon the practice of virtue who strives judiciously for acquiring Heaven and Earth and who takes of earthly goods just what is ordained (as the king's share) in the scriptures, wins a reputation that spread over all the worlds and among all creatures, mobile and immobile.' The ruler of the Videhas, of clear understanding, having heard these words full of reason, become freed from grief, and taking Asma's leave proceeded towards his abode. O thou of unfading glory, cast off thy grief and rise up. Thou art equal to Sakra himself. Suffer thy soul to be gladdened. The earth has been won by thee in the exercise of Kshatriya duties. Enjoy her, O son of Kunti, and do not disregard my words."'" SECTION XXIX "Vaisampayana said, 'The foremost of kings, viz., Yudhishthira the son of Dharma, still remaining speechless. Pandu's son Arjuna addressed Krishna and spoke as follows: "'Arjuna said, "This scorcher of foes, viz., Dharma's son, is burning with grief on account of his (slaughtered) kinsfolk. Comfort him, O Madhava! Once more, O Janardana, all of us have fallen into great danger. It behoveth thee, O mighty-armed one, to dispel his grief."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by the high-souled Arjuna, the lotus-eyed Govinda of unfading glory turned his face towards the king. Kesava could not by any means be disregarded by Yudhishthira. From the earliest years Govinda was dearer to Yudhishthira than Arjuna himself. Taking up the king's hand adorned with sandal-paste and looking like a column of marble, the mighty-armed Saurin began to speak, gladdening (the hearts of all who listened to him). His face, adorned with teeth and eyes that were very beautiful, shone brightly like a full-blown lotus at sunrise. "'Vasudeva said, "Do not, O tiger among men, indulge in such grief that emaciates thy body. They who have been slain in this battle will on no account be got back. Those Kshatriyas, O king, that have fallen in this great battle, are even like objects that one acquires in one's dreams and that vanish when one awakes. All of them were heroes and ornaments of battle. They were vanquished while rushing with faces towards their foes. No one amongst them was slain with wounds on the back or while flying away. All of them, having contended with heroes in great battle and having cast off their life-breaths then, have, sanctified by weapons, proceeded to heaven. It behoveth thee not to grieve for them. Devoted to the duties of Kshatriyas, possessed of courage, perfectly conversant with the Vedas and their branches, all of them have attained to that blissful end which is obtainable by heroes. It behoveth thee not to grieve for them after hearing of those high-souled lords of the earth, of ancient days, that departed from this world. In this connection is cited the old discourse of Narada before Srinjaya when the latter was deeply afflicted with grief on account of the death of his son. (Narada said),--'Subject to happiness and misery, myself, thyself and all creatures, O Srinjaya, shall have to die. What cause then is there for sorrow. Listen to me as I recite the great blessedness of (some) ancient kings. Hear me with concentrated attention. Thou shalt then, O king, cast off thy grief. Listening to the story of those high-souled lords of the earth, abate thy sorrow. O, hear me as I recite their stories to thee in detail. By listening to the charming and delightful history of those kings of ancient times, malignant stars may be propitiated and the period of one's life be increased. We hear, O Srinjaya, that there was a king of the name of Marutta who was the son of Avikshit. Even he fell a prey to death. The gods with Indra and Varuna and Vrihaspati at their head came to sacrifice, called Viswasrij, performed by that high-souled monarch.[86] Challenging Sakra, the chief of the gods, that king vanquished him in battle. The learned Vrihaspati, from desire of doing good unto Indra, had refused to officiate at Marutta's sacrifice. Thereupon Samvarta, the younger brother of Vrihaspati, acceded to the king's request. During the rule of that king, O best of monarchs, the earth yielded crops without being tilled and was adorned with diverse kinds of ornaments. In the sacrifice of that king, the Viswedevas sat as courtiers, the Maruts acted as distributors (of food and presents) and the high-souled Sadhyas were also present. In that sacrifice of Marutta, the Maruts drank Soma. The sacrificial presents the king made surpassed (in value) those ever made by the gods, the Gandharvas, and men. When even that king, O Srinjaya, who transcended thee in religious merit, knowledge, renunciation, and affluence, and who was purer than thy son, felt a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son. There was another king of the name of Suhotra the son of Atithi. We hear, O Srinjaya, that even he fell a prey to death. During his rule, Maghavat showered gold for one whole year upon his kingdom. Obtaining that king for her lord, the earth became in reality (and not in name only as before) Vasumati.[87] The rivers, during the sway of that king, bore golden tortoises, crabs, alligators, sharks, and porpoises, for the adorable Indra, O king, had showered these upon them. Beholding those golden fishes and sharks and tortoises in hundreds and thousands, Atithi's son became filled with wonder. Collecting that vast wealth of gold that covered the earth, Suhotra performed a sacrifice at Kurujangala and gave it away unto the Brahmanas. When that king, O Srinjaya, who transcended thee in the four attributes of religious merit, knowledge, renunciation, and affluence, and who was purer than thy son, felt a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son (that is dead). Thy son never performed a sacrifice and never made gifts. Knowing this, pacify thy mind and do not give away to grief.[88] We hear also, O Srinjaya, that Vrihadratha the king of the Angas, fell a prey to death. He gave away a hundred thousand steeds. A hundred thousand maidens also, adorned with golden ornaments, he gave away as presents in a sacrifice he performed. A hundred thousand elephants also of the best breed, he gave away as presents in another sacrifice performed by him. A hundred millions also of bulls, adorned with golden chains, with thousands of kine accompanying them, he gave away as sacrificial presents. While the king of Anga performed his sacrifice by the hill called Vishnupada, Indra became intoxicated with the Soma he drank, and the Brahmanas with the presents they received. In the sacrifices, O monarch, numbering by hundreds, that this king performed of old, the presents he made far surpassed those ever made by the gods, the Gandharvas, and men. No other man was born, or will ever be born, that gave or will give away so much wealth as was given away by the king of the Angas in the seven sacrifices he performed, each of which was characterised by the consecration of the Soma.[89] When, O Srinjaya, this Vrihadratha even, who was thy superior in the four attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear also, O Srinjaya, that Sivi, the son of Usinara, fell a prey to death. That king swayed the whole earth as one sways the leathern shield in his hand. Riding on a single car that proved victorious in every battle, king Sivi caused the whole earth to resound with the rattle of his wheels and subjugated all monarchs.[90] Usinara's son Sivi gave away, in a sacrifice, all the kine and horses he had, both domestic and wild. The Creator himself thought that no one amongst the kings of the past or the future had or would have the ability to bear the burthen, O Srinjaya, that Usinara's son Sivi, that foremost of kings, that hero who was possessed of prowess equal to that of Indra himself, bore. Do not, therefore, grieve for thy son who never performed any sacrifice nor made any gift. Indeed, O Srinjaya, when Sivi, who was far superior to thee in the four attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that the high-souled Bharata also, the son of Dushmanta and Sakuntala, who had a vast and well-filled treasury, fell a prey to death. Devoting three hundred horses unto the gods on the banks of the Yamuna, twenty on the banks of the Saraswati, and fourteen on the banks of Ganga, that king of great energy, in days of old, performed (in this order) a thousand Horse-sacrifices and a hundred Rajasuyas. No one amongst the kings of the earth can imitate the great deeds of Bharata, even as no man can, by the might of his arms, soar into the welkin. Erecting numerous sacrificial altars, he gave away innumerable horses and untold wealth unto the sage Kanwa.[91] When even he, O Srinjaya, who was far superior to thee in the four attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that Rama also, the son of Dasaratha, fell a prey to death. He always cherished his subjects as if they were the sons of his own loins. In his dominions there were no widows and none that was helpless. Indeed, Rama in governing his kingdom always acted like his father Dasaratha. The clouds, yielding showers seasonably, caused the crops to grow abundantly. During the period of his rule, food was always abundant in his kingdom. No death occurred by drowning or by fire. As long as Rama governed it, there was no fear in his kingdom of any disease. Every man lived for a thousand years, and every man was blessed with a thousand children. During the period of Rama's sway, all men were whole and all men attained the fruition of their wishes. The very women did not quarrel with one another, what need then be said of the men? During his rule his subjects were always devoted to virtue. Contented, crowned with fruition in respect of all the objects of their desire, fearless, free, and wedded to the vow of truth, were all the people when Rama governed the kingdom. The trees always bore flowers and fruit and were subject to no accidents. Every cow yielded milk filling a drona to the brim. Having dwelt, in the observance of severe penances, for four and ten years in the woods, Rama performed ten Horse-sacrifices of great splendour[92] and to them the freest access was given to all. Possessed of youth, of a dark complexion, with red eyes, he looked like the leader of an elephantine herd. With arms stretching down to his knees and of handsome face, his shoulders were like those of a lion and the might of his arms great. Ascending upon the throne of Ayodhya, he ruled for ten thousand and ten hundred years. When he, O Srinjaya, who transcended thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that king Bhagiratha also died. In one of the sacrifices of that king, intoxicated with the Soma he had drunk, Indra, the adorable chastiser of Paka and the chief of the gods, vanquished, by putting forth the might of his arms, many thousands of Asuras. King Bhagiratha, in one of the sacrifices he performed, gave away a million of maidens adorned with ornaments of gold. Each of those maidens sat upon a car and unto each car were attached four steeds. With each car were a hundred elephants, all of the foremost breed and decked with chains of gold. Behind each elephant were a thousand steeds, and behind each steed a thousand kine, and behind each cow a thousand goats and sheep. (The river-goddess) Ganga, named (from before) Bhagirathi, sat upon the lap of this king dwelling near (her stream), and from this incident she came to be called Urvasi.[93] The triple-coursed Ganga had agreed to be the daughter of Bhagiratha of Ikshvaku's race, that monarch ever engaged in the performance of sacrifices with presents in profusion unto the Brahmanas.[94] When he, O Srinjaya, who transcended thee in respect of the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son. We hear, O Srinjaya, that the high-souled Dilipa also fell a prey to death. The Brahmanas love to recite his innumerable deeds. In one of his great sacrifices that king, with heart fully assenting, gave away the entire earth, abounding with wealth, unto the Brahmanas. In each sacrifice performed by him, the chief priest received as sacrificial fee a thousand elephants made of gold. In one of his sacrifices, the stake (set up for slaughtering the victims) was made of gold and looked exceedingly beautiful. Discharging the duties assigned to them, the gods having Sakra for their chief, used to seek the protection of that king. Upon that golden stake possessed of great effulgence and decked with a ring, six thousand Gods and Gandharvas danced in joy, and Viswavasu himself, in their midst played on his Vina the seven notes according to the rules that regulate their combinations. Such was the character of Viswavasu's music that every creature (whatever he might be) thought that the great Gandharva was playing to him alone. No other monarch could imitate this achievement of king Dilipa. The elephants of that king, intoxicated and adorned with housings of gold, used to lie down on the roads.[95] Those men proceeded to heaven that succeeded in obtaining a sight even of the high-souled king Dilipa who was ever truthful in speech and whose bow could bear a hundred foes equal in energy to a hundred Anantas.[96] These three sounds never ceased in Dilipa's abode, viz., the voice of Vedic recitations, the twang of bows, and cries of "Let it be given." When he, O Srinjaya, who transcended thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. Yuvanaswa's son Mandhatri also, O Sanjaya, we have heard, fell a prey to death. The deities named Maruts extracted that child from his sire's stomach through one of its sides. Sprung from a quantity of clarified butter that had been sanctified by mantras (and that had by mistake been quaffed by his sire instead of his sire's spouse) Mandhatri was born in the stomach of the high-souled Yuvanaswa. Possessed of great prosperity, king Mandhatri conquered the three worlds. Beholding that child of celestial beauty lying on the lap of his sire, the God asked one another, "From whom shall this child obtain suck?" Then Indra approached him, saying, "He shall obtain suck even from me!" From this circumstance, the chief of the deities came to call the child by the name of Mandhatri.[97] From the nourishment of that high-souled child of Yuvanaswa, the finger of Indra, placed in his mouth, began to yield a jet of milk. Sucking Indra's finger, he grew up into a stout youth in a hundred days. In twelve days he looked like one of twelve years. The whole earth in one day came under the sway of that high-souled and virtuous and brave king who resembled Indra himself for prowess in battle. He vanquished kings Angada, Marutta, Asita, Gaya, and Vrihadratha the king of the Angas.[98] When Yuvanaswa's son fought in battle with Angada, the Gods thought that the firmament was breaking with the twang of his bow. The whole earth from where the Sun rises to where he sets is said to be the field of Mandhatri. Having performed Horse-sacrifices and a hundred Rajasuyas, he gave unto the Brahmanas many Rohita fishes. Those fishes were each ten Yojanas in length and one in breadth. Those that remained after gratifying the Brahmanas were divided amongst themselves by the other classes. When he, O Srinjaya, who transcended thee in respect of the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Sanjaya, that Yayati, the son of Nahusha, also fell a prey to death. Having subjugated the whole world with its seas, he journeyed through it, decking it with successive sacrificial altars the intervals between which were measured by throws of a heavy piece of wood. Indeed, he reached the very shores of the sea as he proceeded performing great sacrifices (on those altars along his way).[99] Having performed a thousand sacrifices and a hundred Vajapeyas, he gratified the foremost of Brahmanas with three mountains of gold. Having slain many Daityas and Danavas duly arrayed in battle, Nahusha's son, Yayati, divided the whole earth (among his children). At last discarding his other sons headed by Yadu and Drahyu, he installed (his youngest son) Puru on his throne and then entered the woods accompanied by his wife, When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that Amvarisha also, the son of Nabhaga, fell a prey to death. That protector (of the world) and foremost of kings was regarded by his subjects as the embodiment of virtue. That monarch, in one of his sacrifices, assigned to the Brahmanas, for waiting upon them, a million of kings who had themselves performed thousands of sacrifices each. Men of piety praised Amvarisha, the son of Nabhaga, saying that such feats had never been achieved before nor would their like be achieved in the future.[100] Those hundreds upon hundreds and thousands upon thousands of kings (that had at the command of Amvarisha waited at his sacrifices upon the Brahmanas that came there) became (through Amvarisha's merits) crowned with the fruits of the Horse-sacrifice, and followed their lord by the Southern-path (to regions of brightness and bliss). When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy child that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that Sasavindu also, the son of Chitrasena, felt a prey to death. That high-souled king had a hundred thousand wives, and million of sons. All of them used to wear golden armour and all of them were excellent bowmen. Each of those princes married a hundred princesses, and each princess brought a hundred elephants. With each of those elephants were a hundred cars. With each car were a hundred steeds, all of good breed and all decked with trappings of gold. With each steed were a hundred kine, and with each cow were a hundred sheep and goats. This countless wealth, O monarch, Sasavindu gave away, in a Horse-sacrifice, unto the Brahmanas. When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy child that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that Gaya also, the son of Amurtarayas, fell a prey to death. For a hundred years, that king subsisted upon the remains of sacrificial food. (Pleased with such devotion) Agni desired to give him boons. The boons solicited by Gaya were, "Let my wealth be inexhaustible even if I give ceaselessly. Let my regard for virtue exist for ever. Let my heart ever take pleasure in Truth, through thy grace, O eater of sacrificial libations." It hath been heard by us that king Gaya obtained all those wishes from Agni. On days of the new moon, on those of the full moon, and on every fourth month, for a thousand years, Gaya repeatedly performed the Horse-sacrifice. Rising (at the completion of every sacrifice) he gave away a hundred thousand kine and hundreds of mules (unto the Brahmanas) during this period. That bull among men gratified the gods with Soma, the Brahmanas with wealth, the Pitris with Swadha, and the women with the accomplishment of all their wishes. In his great Horse-sacrifice, king Gaya caused a golden ground to be made, measuring a hundred cubits in length and fifty in breadth, and gave it away as the sacrificial fee. That foremost of men, viz., Gaya, the son of Amurtarayas, gave away as many kine as there are sand grains, O king, in the river Ganga. When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that Sankriti's son Rantideva also fell a prey to death. Having undergone the austerest of penances and adored him with great reverence, he obtained these boons from Sakra, having solicited them, saying "Let us have abundant food and numerous guests. Let not my faith sustain any diminution, and let us not have to ask anything of any person." The animals, both domestic and wild, slaughtered in his sacrifice, used to come to him, viz., the high-souled Rantideva of rigid vows and great fame, of their own accord. The secretions that flowed from the skins of the animals (slaughtered in his sacrifices), produced a mighty and celebrated river which to this day is known by the name of Charmanwati. King Rantideva used to make gifts unto the Brahmanas in an extensive enclosure. When the king said, "Unto thee I give a hundred nishkas! Unto thee I give a hundred," the Brahmanas (without accepting what was offered) made a noise (expressive of refusal). When, however, the king would say, "I give a thousand nishkas," the gifts were all accepted. All the vessels and plates, in Rantideva's palace, for holding food and other articles, all the jugs and pots, the pans and plates and cups, were of gold. On those nights during which the guests used to live in Rantideva's abode, twenty thousand and one hundred kine had to be slaughtered. Yet even on such occasions, the cooks, decked in ear-rings, used to proclaim (amongst those that sat down to supper): "There is abundant soup, take as much as ye wish; but of flesh we have not as much today as on former occasions." When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that the high-souled Sagara also fell a prey to death. He was of Ikshvaku's race, a tiger among men, and of superhuman prowess. Sixty thousand sons used to walk behind him, like myriads upon myriads of stars waiting upon the Moon in the cloudless firmament of autumn. His sway extended over the whole of this earth.[101] He gratified the gods by performing a thousand Horse-sacrifices. He gave away unto deserving Brahmanas palatial mansions with columns of gold and (other parts) made entirely of that precious metal, containing costly beds and bevies of beautiful ladies with eyes resembling petals of the lotus, and diverse other kinds of valuable objects. At his command, the Brahmanas divided those gifts among themselves. Through anger that king caused the earth to be excavated whereupon she came to have the ocean on her bosom, and for this, the ocean has come to be called Sagara after his name. When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. We hear, O Srinjaya, that king Prithu also, the son of Vena, fell a prey to death. The great Rishis, assembling together in the great forest, installed him in the sovereignty of the earth. And because it was thought that he would advance all mankind, he was, for that reason, called Prithu (the advancer). And because also he protected people from injuries (Kshata), he was, for that reason, called a Kshatriya (protector from injuries). Beholding Prithu the son of Vena, all the creatures of the earth exclaimed, "We have been lovingly attached to him." From this circumstance of the loving attachment (to him of all creatures), he came to be called a Raja (one that can inspire attachment). The earth, during his sway, yielded crops without being tilled, every leaf that the trees had bore honey, and every cow yielded a jugful of milk. All men were hale and all their wishes used to be crowned with fruition. They had no fear of any kind. They used to live, as they pleased, in fields or in (sheltered) houses. When Prithu desired to go over the sea, the waters became solidified. The rivers also never swelled up when he had to cross them but remained perfectly calm. The standard on his car moved freely everywhere (without being obstructed by any impediment). King Prithu, in one of his grand Horse-sacrifices, gave away unto the Brahmanas one and twenty mountains of gold, each measuring three nalwas.[102] When he, O Srinjaya, who far surpassed thee in the four principal attributes and who was purer than thy son, fell a prey to death, do not grieve for thy son that is dead. Upon what, O Srinjaya, dost thou reflect in silence? It seems, O king, that thou hearest not these words of mine. If thou hast not heard them, then this discourse of mine has been a fruitless rhapsody, like medicine or diet, to a person on the point of death.' "'"Srinjaya said, 'I am attending, O Narada, to this discourse of thine, of excellent import and perfumed like a garland of flowers,--this discourse upon the conduct of high-souled royal sages of meritorious deeds and great fame, that can certainly dispel grief. Thy discourse, O great sage, has not been a fruitless rhapsody. I have been freed from grief at thy very sight. Like one never satiated with drinking nectar, I am not satiated with thy words. O thou of true sight, if thou, O lord, be inclined to show thy grace towards this person burning on account of the death of his son, then that son, through that grace of thine, is sure to be revived and to mingle once more with me (in this life).' "'"Narada said, 'I will give back to thee that son of thine, named Suvarnashthivin, whom Parvata gave thee and who has been bereft of life. Of the splendour of gold, that child shall have a thousand years.'"'" SECTION XXX "'Yudhishthira said, "How did the son of Srinjaya become Suvarnashthivin?[103] Why also did Parvata give Srinjaya that child? And why did he die? When the lives of all men in those days extended for a thousand years, why did Srinjaya's son die in infancy? Or, was he in name only Suvarnashthivin? How also did he come to be so? I desire to know all this." "'Krishna said, "I will recite to thee, O king, the facts as they happened. There are two Rishis, the foremost ones in the world, named Narada and Parvata. Narada is the maternal uncle and Parvata is his sister's son. With cheerful hearts, the uncle Narada and the nephew Parvata had, in days of old, O king, left heaven for a pleasant ramble on earth for tasting clarified butter and rice. Both of them, possessed of great ascetic merit, wandered over the earth, subsisting on food taken by human beings. Filled with joy and entertaining great affection for each other, they entered into a compact that, whatever wish, good or bad, would be entertained by one should be disclosed to the other, but on the event of one of them acting otherwise, he should be subject to the other's curse. Agreeing to that understanding, those two great Rishis, adored of all the worlds, repaired to king Srinjaya, the son of Sitya and said unto him, 'We two, for thy good, shall dwell with thee for a few days. O lord of earth, do thou attend to all our wants duly.' The king, saying, 'So be it,' set himself to attend upon them hospitably. After a while, one day, the king filled with joy, introduced to those illustrious ascetics his daughter of the fairest complexion, saying, 'This my daughter will wait upon you both. Bright as the filaments of the lotus, she is beautiful and of faultless limbs, accomplished and of sweet manners, and is called Sukumari by name.' 'Very well,' said the Rishis in reply, upon which the king directed his daughter, telling her, 'O child, attend upon these two Brahmanas as thou wouldst upon the gods or thy sire.' The virtuous princess, saying, 'So be it' began to attend upon them in obedience to her father's behest. Her dutiful services and her unrivalled beauty very soon inspired Narada with a tender flame towards her. That tender sentiment began to grow in the heart of the illustrious saint like the moon gradually waxing on the accession of the lighted fortnight. The virtuous Narada, however, overwhelmed by shame, could not disclose that burning attachment to his sister's son, the high-souled Parvata. By his ascetic power, as also by signs, Parvata understood all. Inflamed with rage, the latter thereupon resolved to curse the love-afflicted Narada. And he said, 'Having of thy own accord made a compact with me that, whatever wish, good or bad, would be cherished by either of us should be disclosed to the other, thou hast violated it. These were thy own words, O Brahmana! It is for this that I shall curse thee. Thou didst not tell me before that thy heart has been pierced by the charms of the maiden Sukumari! It is for this that I shall curse thee. Thou art a Brahmacharin. Thou art my preceptor. Thou art an ascetic and a Brahmana. Yet hast thou broken the compact thou hadst made with me. Fitted with rage I shall, for this, curse even thee. Listen to me. This Sukumari shall, without doubt, become thy wife. From the time of thy marriage, however, O puissant one, both she and all men shall behold thee an ape, for thy true features having disappeared, an ape shalt thou appear unto all.' Hearing these words of his, the uncle Narada, filled with wrath, cursed his nephew Parvata in return, saying, 'Although thou hast ascetic merit and Brahmacharya and truth and self-restraint, and although thou art ever devoted to virtue, thou shalt not yet succeed in proceeding to heaven.' Filled with rage and desire of vengeance, they thus cursed and flamed against each other like a couple of infuriated elephants. From that time the high-souled Parvata began to wander over the earth, respected as he deserved, O Bharata, for his own energy. Narada then, that foremost of Brahmanas, obtained according to due rites the hand of Srinjaya's daughter, the faultless Sukumari. The princess, however, beheld Narada exactly as the curse had said. Indeed, just after the last of the wedding mantras had been recited, Sukumari beheld the celestial Rishi to have a face like that of an ape. She, however, did not on that account, disregard her lord. On the other hand, she dedicated her love to him. Indeed, the princess, chaste as she was, devoted herself entirely to her lord and did not in her heart even desire any one else among the gods, Munis, and Yakshas for a husband. One day, as the illustrious Parvata, in course of his wanderings, entered a solitary forest, he beheld Narada there. Saluting him, Parvata said, 'Show thy grace unto me by permitting me, O puissant one, to go to heaven.' Seeing the cheerless Parvata kneeling before him with joined hands, Narada, himself more cheerless, said unto him, 'Thou hadst cursed me first, saying, "Be thou an ape!" After thou hadst said so unto me, I cursed thee from anger, saying, "From this day thou shalt not dwell in heaven!" It was not well of thee, since thou art like a son unto me.' The two saints then freed each other from their mutual curses. Beholding her husband possessed of celestial form and blazing with beauty, Sukumari fled from him, taking him to be somebody other than her lord. Seeing the beautiful princess flying away from her lord, Parvata addressed her, saying, 'This one is even thy husband. Do not entertain any scruple. This one is the illustrious and puissant Rishi Narada, that foremost of virtuous persons. He is thy lord, of one soul with thee. Do not have any doubt.' Assured in diverse ways by the high Parvata and informed also of the curse on her lord, the princess regained her equanimity. Then Parvata proceeded to heaven and Narada to his home." "'Vasudeva continued, "The illustrious Rishi Narada, who was himself an actor in this matter, is here. O best of men, asked by thee, he will tell thee everything that happened."'" SECTION XXXI "Vaisampayana said, 'The royal son of Pandu then addressed Narada, saying, "O holy one, I desire to hear of the birth of the child whose excreta were gold." Thus addressed by king Yudhishthira the just, the sage Narada began to narrate to him all that had occurred in connection with that child of golden excreta. "'Narada said, "It is even so, O thou of mighty arms, as Kesava here hath said. Asked by thee I shall now recite the portion that remains of this story. Myself, and my sister's son, the great ascetic Parvata, came (on one occasion) unto Srinjaya that foremost of all victorious kings, for dwelling with him. Honoured by him with due rites, and with every wish of ours gratified, we took up our residence in his abode. After the season of rains had gone, and when the time came for our own departure, Parvata said unto me those words of grave import suitable to the hour: 'We have, O Brahmana, dwelt in the abode of this king for some time, highly honoured by him. Think of what return we should make.' I then, O monarch, addressed Parvata of blessed aspect, saying, 'O nephew, this becomes thee, and, O thou of great power, all this depends upon thyself. Through thy boons let the king be made happy and let him obtain his wishes. Or, if thou choosest, let him be crowned with success through the ascetic merits of both of us.' After this, Parvata having called king Srinjaya, that foremost of victorious persons, said unto him these words O bull of Kuru's race, 'We have been exceedingly gratified, O king, with thy hospitable attentions given to us with every sincerity. With our permission, O foremost of men, think of the boon thou shouldst solicit. Let the boon, however, be such that it may not imply enmity to the gods or destruction to men! Accept then, O king, a boon, for thou deservest one as we think.' Hearing these words, Srinjaya replied, 'If ye have been gratified with me, my object then has been gained, for that of itself has been my greatest gain and that is regarded by me as the fruition of all my desire.' Unto Srinjaya who said so, Parvata again said, 'Solicit, O king, the fruition of that wish which thou art cherishing in thy heart, for a long time.' Srinjaya answered, 'I desire a son that shall be heroic and possessed of great energy, firm in his vows and of long life, highly blessed and possessed of splendour equal to that of the Chief himself of the deities.' At this, Parvata said, 'This thy desire shall be fulfilled. Thy child, however, shall not be long-lived, for thy wish for such a son is even for prevailing over the Chief of the gods. Thy son shall be known by the name of Suvarnashthivin. He shall be possessed of splendour like that of the Chief of the gods but take care to protect him always from that deity.' Hearing these words of the high-souled Parvata, Srinjaya began to beseech that saint for ordaining otherwise, saying, 'Let my son be long-lived, O Muni, through thy ascetic merit.' Parvata, however, said nothing, through partiality for Indra. Beholding the king very cheerless, I said unto him, 'Think of me, O king, (in thy distress), and I shall promise to come when thought of by thee. Do not grieve, O lord of earth! I will give thee back thy beloved child, even if he be dead, in his living form.' Having said so unto that monarch, both of us left his presence for coming to where we wished, and Srinjaya returned to his abode as he pleased. After some time had elapsed, the royal sage Srinjaya had born unto him a son of great prowess and blazing forth with energy. The child grew up like a large lotus in a lake, and became Suvarnashthivin in reality as in name. This extraordinary fact, O best of the Kurus, soon became widely known over the world. The Chief of the gods also came to know it as the result of Parvata's boon. Fearing humiliation (at the hands of the child when he would grow up), the slayer of Vala and Vritra began to watch for the laches of the prince. He commanded his celestial weapon Thunder, standing before him in embodied shape, saying, 'Go, O puissant one, and assuming the form of a tiger slay this prince. When grown up, this child of Srinjaya may, by his achievements, humiliate me, O Thunder, as Parvata said.' Thus addressed by Sakra, the celestial weapon Thunder, that subjugator of hostile towns, began from that day to continually watch for the laches of the prince. Srinjaya, meanwhile, having obtained that child whose splendour resembled that of Indra himself, became filled with joy. The king, accompanied by his wives, and the other ladies of his household, took up his residence in the midst of a forest. One day, on the shores of the Bhagirathi, the boy, accompanied by his nurse, ran hither and thither in play. Though only five years of age, his prowess, even then, resembled that of a mighty elephant. While thus employed, the child met a powerful tiger that came upon him suddenly. The infant prince trembled violently as he was being crushed by the tiger and soon fell down lifeless on the earth. At this sight the nurse uttered loud cries of grief. Having slain the prince, the tiger, through Indra's powers of delusion, vanished there and then. Hearing the voice of the crying nurse, the king, in great anxiety, ran to the spot. He beheld his son there, his blood quaffed off, and lying lifeless on the ground like the moon dropped from the firmament. Taking up on his lap the boy covered with blood, the king, with heart stricken by grief, began to lament piteously. The royal ladies then, afflicted with grief and crying, quickly ran to the spot where king Srinjaya was. In that situation the king thought of me with concentrated attention. Knowing that the king was thinking of me I appeared before him. Stricken with grief as the king was, I recited to him all those stories, O monarch, that hero of Yadu's race has already recited to thee. I brought Srinjaya's child back to life, with Indra's permission. That which is ordained must occur. It is impossible that it should be otherwise. After this, prince Suvarnashthivin of great fame and energy began to delight the hearts of his parents. Of great prowess, he ascended the throne of his father after the latter had repaired to heaven, and ruled for a period of one thousand and one hundred years. He worshipped the gods in many great sacrifices characterised by profuse presents. Possessed of great splendour, he gratified the gods and the Pitris. Having procreated many sons, all of whom by their issues multiplied the race, he went the way of all nature, O king, after many years. Do thou, O foremost of kings dispel this grief born in thy heart, even as Kesava has counselled thee, as also Vyasa of austere penances. Rise up, O king, and bear the burthen of this thy ancestral kingdom, and perform high and great sacrifices so that thou mayst obtain (hereafter) whatever regions may be desired by thee!"'" SECTION XXXII "Vaisampayana said, 'Unto king Yudhishthira who still remained speechless and plunged in grief, the island-born Vyasa, that great ascetic, conversant with truths of religion, spoke again. "'Vyasa said, "O thou of eyes like lotus petals, the protection of subjects is the duty of kings. Those men that are always observant of duty regard duty to be all powerful. Do thou, therefore, O king, walk in the steps of thy ancestors. With Brahmanas, penances are a duty. This is the eternal ordinance of the Vedas. Penances, therefore, O bull of Bharata's race, constitute the eternal duty of Brahmanas. A Kshatriya is the protector of all persons in respect of their duties.[104] That man who, addicted to earthly possessions, transgresses wholesome restraints, that offender against social harmony, should be chastised with a strong hand. That insensate person who seeks to transgress authority, be he an attendant, a son, or even a saint, indeed,--all men of such sinful nature, should by every means be chastised or even killed. That king who conducts himself otherwise incurs sin. He who does not protect morality when it is being disregarded is himself a trespasser against morality. The Kauravas were trespassers against morality. They have, with their followers, been slain by thee. Thou hast been observant of the duties of thy own order. Why then, O son of Pandu, dost thou indulge in such grief? The king should slay those that deserve death, make gifts to persons deserving of charity, and protect his subjects according to the ordinance." "'Yudhishthira said, "I do not doubt the words that fall from thy lips, O thou of great ascetic merit! Everything appertaining to morality and duty is well known to thee, O foremost of all persons conversant with morality and duty! I have, however, for the sake of kingdom, caused many persons to be slain! Those deeds, O Brahmana, are burning and consuming me!" "'Vyasa said, "O Bharata, is the Supreme Being the doer, or is man the doer? Is everything the result of Chance in the world, or are the fruits that we enjoy or suffer, the results of (previous) action? If man, O Bharata, does all acts, good or bad, being urged thereto by the Supreme Being, then the fruits of those acts should attach to the Supreme being himself. If a person cuts down, with an axe, a tree in forest, it is the person that incurs the sin and not the axe by any means. Or, if it be said that, the axe being only the material cause, the consequence of the act (of cutting) should attach to the animate agent (and not to the inanimate tool), then the sin may be said to belong to the person that has made the axe. This, however, can scarcely be true. If this be not reasonable, O son of Kunti, that one man should incur the consequence of an act done by another, then, guided by this, thou shouldst throw all responsibility upon the Supreme Being.[105] If, again, man be himself the agent of all his acts virtuous and sinful, then Supreme Director there is none, and, therefore, whatever thou hast done cannot bring evil consequences on thee.[106] No one, O king, can ever turn away from that which is destined. If, again, Destiny be the result of the acts of former lives, then no sin can attach to one in this life even as the sin of cutting down a tree cannot touch the maker of the axe.[107] If thou thinkest it is chance only that acts in the world, then such an act of destruction could never happen nor will ever happen.[108] If it is necessary to ascertain what is good and what is evil in the world, attend to the scriptures. In those scriptures it has been laid down that kings should stand with the rod of chastisement uplifted in their hands. I think, O Bharata, that acts, good and bad, are continually revolving here as a wheel, and men obtain the fruits of those acts, good or bad, that they do. One sinful act proceeds from another. Therefore, O tiger among kings, avoid all evil acts and do not thus set thy heart upon grief. Thou shouldst adhere, O Bharata, to the duties, even if reproachable, of thy own order. This self-destruction, O king, does not look well in thee. Expiations, O king, have been ordained for (evil) acts. He that is alive can perform them, but he that dies fails in their performance. Therefore, O king, without laying down thy life, perform those expiatory acts. If thou dost not perform them thou mayst have to repent in the next world."'" SECTION XXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Sons and grandsons and brothers and sires and fathers-in-law and preceptors and maternal uncles and grandsires, many high-souled Kshatriyas, many relatives (by marriage), friends, companions, sister's sons, and kinsmen, O grandsire, and many foremost of men coming from diverse countries, have fallen. All these, O grandsire, have been caused to be slain by myself alone, from desire of kingdom. Having caused so many heroic kings who were always devoted to righteousness and all of whom had quaffed Soma in sacrifices, what end shall I attain, O great ascetic! Thinking that this earth has been bereft of many lions among kings, all of whom were in the enjoyment of great prosperity, I burn continually to this day. Having witnessed this slaughter of kinsmen and millions of other men, I burn with grief, O grandsire! Oh, what will be the plight of those foremost of ladies who have been deprived of sons, of husbands, and of brothers. Reproaching the Pandavas and the Vrishnis as cruel murderers, those ladies, with emaciated features and plunged in grief, will throw themselves on the earth! Not beholding their sires and brothers and husbands and sons, those ladies, through affliction, casting off their life-breath, will go to the abode of Yama, O foremost of Brahmanas! I have no doubt of this. The course of morality is very subtle. It is plain that we shall be stained with the guilt of slaughtering women for this. Having slain our kinsmen and friends and thereby committed an inexpiable sin, we shall have to fall into hell with heads downwards. O best of men, we shall, therefore, waste our limbs with the austerest of penances. Tell me, O grandsire, to what mode of life I should betake myself then."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Yudhishthira, the Island-born Rishi, having reflected keenly for some time, addressed the son of Pandu as follows: "'Vyasa said, "Remembering the duties of a Kshatriya, O king, do not give way to grief. All those Kshatriyas, O bull among Kshatriyas, have fallen in the observance of their proper duties. In the pursuit of great prosperity and of great fame on earth, those foremost of men, all of whom were liable to death,[109] have perished through the influence of Time. Thou hast not been their slayer, nor this Bhima, nor Arjuna, nor the twins. It is Time that took away their life-breaths according to the great law of change. Time hath neither mother, nor father, nor anybody for whom he is disposed to show any favour. He is the witness of the acts of all creatures. By him have they been taken away. This battle, O bull of Bharata's race, was only an occasion ordained by him. He causes creatures to be slain through the instrumentality of creatures. This is the manner in which it puts forth its irresistible power. Know that Time (in his dealings with creatures) is dependent upon the bond of action and is the witness of all actions good and bad. It is Time that brings about the fruits, fraught with bliss or woe, of our actions. Think, O mighty-armed one, of the acts of those Kshatriyas that have fallen. Those acts were the causes of their destruction and it is in consequence of them that they have perished. Think also of thy own acts consisting of observances of vows with restrained soul. And think also how thou hast been forced by the Supreme Ordainer to do such an act (as the slaughter of so many human beings). As a weapon made by a smith or carpenter is under the control of the person that is handling it, and moves as he moves it, similarly this universe, controlled by actions done in Time, moves as those actions move it. Seeing that the births and deaths of creatures take place without any (assignable) cause and in perfect wantonness, grief and joy are perfectly needless. Although this entanglement of thy heart is a mere delusion, still, if it pleaseth thee, O king, perform expiatory rites (for washing thyself free of thy so-called sin). It is heard, O Partha, that the gods and the Asuras fought against each other. The Asuras were the elder, and the gods the younger brothers. Covetous of prosperity, fierce was the battle fought between them. The fight lasted for two and thirty thousand years. Making the earth one vast expanse of blood, the gods slew the Daityas and gained possession of heaven. Having obtained possession of the earth, a (large) number of Brahmanas, conversant with the Vedas, armed themselves, stupefied with pride, with the Danavas for giving them help in the fight. They were known by the name of Salavrika and numbered eight and eighty thousand. All of them, however, were slain by the gods. Those wicked-souled persons who desire the extinction of virtue and who set sinfulness agoing deserve to be slain even as the furious Daityas were slain by the gods. If by slaying a single individual a family may be saved, or, if by slaying a single family the whole kingdom may be saved, such an act of slaughter will not be a transgression. Sin, O king, sometimes assumes the form of virtue, and virtue sometimes assumes the form of sin. They, however, that are learned, know which is which. Therefore, console thyself, O son of Pandu, for thou art well versed in the scriptures. Thou hast, O Bharata, only followed the path formerly trodden by the very gods. Men like yourselves never go to hell, O bull of Pandu's race! Comfort these thy brothers and all thy friends, O scorcher of foes! He who deliberately engages himself in sinful acts, and committing sinful acts feels no shame but continues the same as before, is called (in the scripture) a great sinner. There is no expiation for him and his sins know no diminution. Thou art born in noble race. Forced by the faults of others, thou hast most unwillingly done this, and having done this thou repentest of it. The Horse-sacrifice, that grand rite, has been indicated as an expiation for thee. Make preparations for that sacrifice, O monarch, and thou shalt be freed from thy sins. The divine chastiser of Paka, having vanquished his foes with the assistance of the Maruts, gradually performed a hundred sacrifices and became Satakratu.[110] Freed from sin, possessed of heaven, and having obtained many regions of bliss and great happiness and prosperity, Sakra, surrounded by the Maruts, is shining in beauty, and illuminating all the quarters with his splendour. The lord of Sachi is adored in the heavens by the Apsaras. The Rishis and the other gods all worship him with reverence. Thou hast got the earth through thy prowess. All the kings have been vanquished by thee, O sinless one, through thy prowess. Proceeding with thy friends to their kingdom, O king, install their brothers, sons, or grandsons on their thrones. Behaving with kindness towards even the children in the womb, make thy subjects glad and happy, and rule the earth. Install on their thrones the daughters of those that have no sons. Women are fond of pleasure and power. Through this means they will cast off their sorrows and become happy. Having comforted the whole empire in this way, O Bharata, adore the gods in a Horse-sacrifice as the virtuous Indra did in days of old. It is not proper for us to grieve for those high-souled Kshatriyas, O bull of thy order (that have fallen in battle). Stupefied by the power of the destroyer, they have perished in the observance of the duties of their own order. Thou hast discharged the duties of a Kshatriya and obtained the earth without a thorn in it. Observe thy own duties, O son of Kunti, for then, O Bharata, thou shalt be able to obtain happiness in the other world."'" SECTION XXXIV-XXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "After doing what acts does a man become liable to perform expiation? And what are those acts which he must do for being freed from sin? Tell me this, O grandsire." "'Vyasa said, "Having omitted to do those acts that have been ordained, and done those that have been interdicted, and having behaved deceitfully, a man becomes liable to perform expiation. The person in the observance of the Brahmacharya vow, who rises from bed after the sun has risen or goes to bed while the sun is setting, one who has a rotten nail or black teeth, one whose younger brother weds first, one who weds before his elder brother is wedded, one who has been guilty of the slaughter of a Brahmana, one who speaks ill of others, one who weds a younger sister before the elder sister has been wedded, one who weds an elder sister after having wedded a younger one, one who falls away from a vow, one who slays any one of the regenerate classes, one who imparts a knowledge of the Vedas to a person unworthy of it, one who does not impart a knowledge thereof to a person that is worthy of it, one who takes many lives, one who sells flesh, one who has abandoned his (sacred) fire, one who sells a knowledge of the Vedas,[111] one who slays his preceptor or a woman, one born in a sinful family, one who slays an animal wilfully,[112] one who sets fire to a dwelling house, one who lives by deceit, one who acts in opposition to his preceptor, and one who has violated a compact,--these all are guilty of sins requiring expiation. I shall now mention other acts that men should not do, viz., acts that are interdicted by both the world and the Vedas. Listen to me with concentrated attention. The rejection of one's own creed, the practice of other people's creed, assisting at the sacrifice or the religious rites of one that is not worthy of such assistance, eating of food that is forbidden, deserting one that craves protection, neglect in maintaining servants and dependants, selling salt and treacle (and similar other substances), killing of birds and animals, refusal, though competent, to procreate upon a soliciting woman, omission to present the daily gifts (of handfuls of grass to kine and the like), omission to present the dakshina, humiliating a Brahmana,--these all have been pronounced by persons conversant with duty to be acts that no one should do. The son that quarrels with the father, the person that violates the bed of his preceptor, one that neglects to produce offspring in one's wedded wife, are all sinful, O tiger among men! I have now declared to thee, in brief as also in detail, those acts and omissions by which a man becomes liable to perform expiation. Listen now to the circumstances under which men, by even committing these acts, do not become stained with sin. If a Brahmana well acquainted with the Vedas takes up arms and rushes against thee in battle for killing thee, thou mayst proceed against him for taking his life. By such an act the slayer does not become guilty of the slaughter of a Brahmana.[113] There is a mantra in the Vedas, O son of Kunti, that lays this down, I declare unto thee only those practices that are sanctioned by the authority of the Vedas. One who slays a Brahmana that has fallen away from his own duties and that advances, weapon in hand, with intent to slaughter, does not truly become the slayer of a Brahmana. In such a case it is the wrath of the slayer that proceeds against the wrath of the slain. A person by drinking alcoholic stimulants in ignorance or upon the advice of a virtuous physician when his life is at peril, should have the regenerating ceremonies performed once more in his case. All that I have told thee, O son of Kunti, about the eating of interdicted food, may be cleansed by such expiatory rites. Connection with the preceptor's wife at the preceptor's command does not stain the pupil. The sage Uddalaka caused his son Swetaketu to be begotten by a disciple. A person by committing theft for the sake of his preceptor in a season of distress is not stained with sin. One, however, that takes to thieving for procuring enjoyments for himself becomes stained. One is not stained by stealing from other than Brahmanas (in a season of distress and for the sake of one's preceptor). Only one that steals under such circumstances without himself appropriating any portion thereof is untouched by sin. A falsehood may be spoken for saving one's own life or that of another, or for the sake of one's preceptor, or for gratifying a woman, or for bringing about a marriage. One's vow of Brahmacharya is not broken by having wet dreams. In such cases the expiation laid down consists in the pouring of libations of clarified butter on the blazing fire. If the elder brother be fallen or has renounced the world, the younger brother does not incur sin by marrying. Solicited by a woman, connection with her is not destructive of virtue. One should not slay or cause to be slain an animal except in a sacrifice. Animals have become sacred (fit for sacrifice) through the kindness manifested towards them by the Creator himself in the ordinance laid down by him. By making a gift in ignorance to an undeserving Brahmana one does not incur sin. The omission (through ignorance) to behave with liberality towards a deserving person does not lead to sin. By casting off an adulterous wife one does not incur sin. By such treatment the woman herself may be purged while the husband may avoid sin. One who knows the true use of the Soma juice, does not incur sin by selling it.[114] By dismissing a servant who is incompetent to render service one is not touched by sin. I have now said unto thee those acts by doing which one does not incur sin. I shall now speak to thee of expiation in detail."'" SECTION XXXVI "'Vyasa said, "By penances, religious rites, and gifts, O Bharata, a man may wash off his sins if he does not commit them again. By subsisting upon only one meal a day, and that procured by mendicancy, by doing all his acts himself (without relying on the aid of a servant), by making his round of mendicancy with a human skull in one hand and a khattanga in another, by becoming a Brahmacharin and always ready for exertion, by casting off all malice, by sleeping on the bare ground, by publishing his offence to the world, by doing all this for full twelve years, a person can cleanse himself from the sin of having slain a Brahmana. By perishing upon the weapon of a person living by the use of arms, of one's own will and upon the advice of persons learned in the scriptures, or by throwing one's self down, for three times, with head downwards, upon a blazing fire, or by walking a hundred Yojanas all the while reciting the Vedas, or by giving away one's whole property to a Brahmana conversant with the Vedas, or at least so much as would secure to him a competence for life, or a house properly furnished, and by protecting kine and Brahmanas, one may be cleansed of the sin of having slain a Brahmana. By living upon the scantiest meal every day for a space of six years, a person may be cleansed of that sin.[115] By observing a harder vow with regard to food one may be cleansed in three years.[116] By living upon one meal a month, one may be cleansed in course of only a year. By observing, again, an absolute fast, one may be cleansed within a very short time. There is no doubt again that one is cleansed by a Horse-sacrifice. Men that have been guilty of having slain a Brahmana and that have succeeded in taking the final bath at the completion of the Horse-sacrifice, become cleansed of all their sins. This is an injunction of great authority in the Srutis. One again, by slaying down his life in a battle undertaken for the sake of a Brahmana, becomes cleansed of the sin of having slain a Brahmana. By giving away a hundred thousand kine unto persons deserving of gifts, one becomes cleansed of the sin of having slain a Brahmana as also, indeed, of all his sins. One that gives away five and twenty thousand kine of the Kapila species and while all of them have calved, becomes cleansed of all his sins. One who, at the point of death, gives away a thousand kine with calves unto poor but deserving persons, becomes freed from sin. That man, O king, who gives away a hundred steeds of the Kamvoja breed unto Brahmanas of regulated behaviour, becomes freed from sin. That man. O Bharata, who gives unto even one person all that he asks for, and who, having given it, does not speak of his act to any one, becomes freed from sin. If a person who has once taken alcohol drinks (as expiation) hot liquor, he sanctifies himself both here and hereafter. By falling from the summit of a mountain or entering a blazing fire, or by going on an everlasting journey after renouncing the world, one is freed from all sins. By performing the sacrifice laid down by Vrihaspati, a Brahmana who drinks alcoholic liquors may succeed in attaining to the region of Brahman. This has been said by Brahman himself. If a person, after having drunk alcoholic liquor, becomes humble and makes a gift of land, and abstains from it ever afterwards, he becomes sanctified and cleansed. The person that has violated his preceptor's bed, should lie down on a sheet of iron having heated it, and having cut off the emblem of his sex should leave the world for a life in the woods, with eyes always turned upwards. By casting off one's body, one becomes cleansed of all his evil acts. Women, by leading a regulated life for one year, become cleansed of all their sins. The person who observes a very rigid vow, or gives away the whole of his wealth, or perishes in a battle fought for the sake of his preceptor, becomes cleansed of all his sins. One who uses falsehood before one's preceptor or acts in opposition to him, becomes cleansed of that sin by doing something agreeable to one's preceptor. One who has fallen off from the vow (of Brahmacharya), may become cleansed of that sin by wearing the hide of a cow for six months and observing the penances laid down in the case of the slaughter of a Brahmana. One who has been guilty of adultery, or of theft, may become cleansed by observing rigid vows for a year. When one steals another's property, one should, by every means in his power, return to that other property of the value of what has been stolen. One may then be cleansed of the sin (of theft). The younger brother who has married before the marriage of the elder brother, as also the elder brother whose younger brother has married before him, becomes cleansed by observing a rigid vow, with collected soul, for twelve nights. The younger brother, however, should wed again for rescuing his deceased ancestors. Upon such second wedding, the first wife becomes cleansed and her husband himself would not incur sin by taking her. Men conversant with the scriptures declare that women may be cleansed of even the greatest sins by observing the vow of chaturmasya, all the while living upon scanty and cleansing food. Persons conversant with the scriptures do not take into account the sins that women may commit at heart. Whatever their sins (of this description), they are cleansed by their menstrual course like a metallic plate that is scoured with ashes. Plates (made of the alloy of brass and copper) stained by a Sudra eating off it, or a vessel of the same metal that has been smelt by a cow, or stained by a Brahmana's Gandusha, may be cleansed by means of the ten purifying substances.[117] It has been laid down that a Brahmana should acquire and practise the full measure of virtue. For a person at the kingly order it has been laid down that he should acquire and practise a measure of virtue less by a fourth part. So, a Vaisya should acquire a measure less (than a Kshatriya's) by a fourth and a Sudra less (than a Vaisya's) by a fourth. The heaviness or lightness of sins (for purposes of expiation) of each of the four orders, should be determined upon this principle. Having slain a bird or an animal, or cut down living trees, a person should publish his sin and fast for three nights. By having intercourse with one with whom intercourse is prohibited, the expiation for one is wandering in wet clothes and sleeping on a bed of ashes. These, O king, are the expiations for sinful acts, according to precedent and reason and scriptures and the ordinances. A Brahmana may be cleansed of all sins by reciting the Gayatri in a sacred place, all the while living upon frugal fare, casting off malice, abandoning wrath and hate, unmoved by praise and blame, and abstaining from speech. He should during the day-time be under shelter of the sky and should lie down at night even at such a place. Thrice during the day, and thrice during the night, he should also plunge with his clothes into a stream or lake for performing his ablutions. Observant of rigid vows, he should abstain from speech with women, Sudras, and fallen persons. A Brahmana by observing such regulations may be cleansed of all sins unconsciously committed by him. A person obtains in the other world the fruits, good or bad, of his acts here which are all witnessed by the elements. Be it virtue or be it vice, according to the true measure that one acquires of either, one enjoys or suffers the consequences (even here). By knowledge, by penances, and by righteous acts, therefore, one enhances his weal (even here). One, therefore may similarly enhance his misery by committing unrighteous acts. One should, therefore, always achieve acts that are righteous and abstain altogether from those that are unrighteous. I have now indicated what the expiations are of the sins that have been mentioned. There is expiation for every sin except those that are called Mahapatakas (highly heinous sins). As regards sins in respect of unclean food and the like, and improper speeches, etc., they are of two classes, viz., those committed consciously and those that are committed unconsciously. All sins that are committed consciously are grave, while those that are committed unconsciously are trivial or light. There is expiation for both. Indeed sin is capable of being washed away by (observance of) the ordinances spoken of. Those ordinances, however, have been laid down only for believers (in God) and those that have faith. They are not for atheists or those that have no faith, or those in whom pride and malice predominate. A person, O tiger among men, that is desirous of weal both here and hereafter, should, O foremost of virtuous men, have recourse to righteous behaviour, to (the counsels of) men that are righteous, and to the duties that have been ordained for him. Therefore, for the reasons already advanced (by me), thou, O king, shalt be cleansed of all thy sins for thou hast slain thy foes in the discharge of thy duties as a king and for the protection of thy life-breath and thy inheritance. Or, if not withstanding this, thou still regardest thyself to be sinful, perform expiation. Do not cast away thy life in consequence of such grief that is not becoming a wise man."' "Vaisampayana continued, "Thus addressed by the holy Rishi, king Yudhishthira the just, having reflected for a short while, said these words unto the sage.'" SECTION XXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandfather, what food is clean and what unclean, what gift is praiseworthy, and who should be considered deserving and who undeserving (of gifts)." "'Vyasa said, "In this connection is cited the old account of a discourse between the ascetics and that lord of creation, viz., Manu. In the Krita age, an assembly of Rishis, of rigid vows, having approached the great and puissant lord of creation, Manu, while seated at his ease, solicited him to discourse on duties, saying, 'What food should be taken, who is to be regarded a deserving person (for gifts), what gifts should be made, how should a person study, and what penances should one perform and how, and what acts should be done and what acts should not be done, O lord of creation, tell us everything about all this.' Thus addressed by them, the divine and self-born Manu said unto them, 'Listen to me as I expound the duties in brief and in detail. In regions which have not been interdicted, silent recitation (of sacred mantras, homa), fasts, knowledge of self, sacred rivers, regions inhabited by men devoted to this pious acts,--these have been laid down as acts and objects that are cleansing. Certain mountains also are cleansing, as also the eating of gold and bathing in waters into which have been dipped gems and precious stones. Sojourn to holy places, and eating of sanctified butter--these also, without doubt speedily cleanse a man. No man would ever be called wise if he is indulged in pride. If he wishes to be long-lived, he should for three nights drink hot water (as an expiation for having indulged in pride). Refusal to appropriate what is not given, gift, study (of scriptures), penance, abstention from injury, truth, freedom from wrath, and worship of the gods in sacrifices,--these are the characteristics of virtue. That again which is virtue may, according to time and place, be sin. Thus appropriation (of what belongs to others), untruth, and injury and killing, may under special circumstances, become virtue. With respect to persons capable of judging, acts are of two kinds, viz., virtuous and sinful. From the worldly and the Vedic points of view again, virtue and sin are good or bad (according to their consequences). From the Vedic point of view, virtue and sin (i.e., everything a man may do or not do), would be classed under action and inaction. Inaction (i.e., abstention from Vedic rites and adoption of a life of contemplation) leads to emancipation (from rebirth); while the consequences of action (i.e., practice of Vedic rites) are repeated death and rebirth. From the worldly point of view, acts that are evil lead to evil and those that are good to consequences that are good. From the worldly point of view, therefore, virtue and sin are to be distinguished by the good and the evil character of their consequences.[118] Acts that are (apparently) evil, when undertaken from considerations connected with the gods, the scriptures, life itself, and the means by which life is sustained, produce consequences that are good. When an act is undertaken from the expectation, however doubtful, that it will produce mischief (to some one) in the future, or when an act is done whose consequence is visibly mischievous, expiation has been laid down. When an act is done from wrath or clouded judgment, then expiation should be performed by giving pain to the body, guided by precedent, by scriptures, and by reason. When anything, again, is done for pleasing or displeasing the mind, the sin arising therefrom may be cleansed by sanctified food and recitation of mantras. The king who lays aside (in a particular case) the rod of chastisement, should fast for one night. The priest who (in a particular case) abstains from advising the king to inflict punishment, should fast for three nights as an expiation. The person who, from grief, attempts to commit suicide by means of weapons, should fast for three nights. There is no expiation for them that cast off the duties and practices of their order and class, country, and family, and that abandon their very creed. When an occasion for doubt respecting what should be done arises, that should be regarded as the injunction of the scriptures which ten persons versed in Vedic scriptures or three of those that frequently recite them may declare.[119] The bull, earth, little ants, worms generated in dirt, and poison, should not be eaten by Brahmanas. They should not also eat fishes that have no scales, and four-footed aquatic animals like frogs and others, except the tortoise. Water-fowls called Bhasas, ducks, Suparnas, Chakravakas, diving ducks, cranes, crows, shags, vultures, hawks, owls, as also all four-footed animals that are carnivorous and that have sharp and long teeth, and birds, and animals having two teeth and those having four teeth, as also the milk of the sheep, the she-ass, the she-camel, the newly-calved cow, woman and deer, should not be taken by a Brahmana. Besides this, the food that has been offered to the man, that which has been cooked by a woman who has recently brought forth a child, and food cooked by an unknown person, should not be eaten. The milk also of a cow that has recently calved should not be taken. If a Brahmana takes food that has been cooked by a Kshatriya, it diminishes his energy; if he takes the food provided by a Sudra, it dims his Brahmanic lustre; and if he takes the food provided by a goldsmith or a woman who has neither husband nor children it lessens the period of his life. The food provided by a usurer is equivalent to dirt, while that provided by a woman living by prostitution is equivalent to semen. The food also provided by persons that tolerate the unchastity of their wives, and by persons that are ruled by their spouses, is forbidden. The food provided by a person selected (for receiving gifts) at a certain stage of a sacrifice, by one who does not enjoy his wealth or make any gifts, that provided by one who sells Soma, or one who is a shoe-maker, by an unchaste woman, by a washerman, by a physician, by persons serving as watchmen, by a multitude of persons, by one who is pointed at by a whole village, by one deriving his support from keep of dancing girls, by persons wedding before their elder brothers are wedded, by professional panegyrists and bards, and by those that are gamblers, the food also which is brought with the left hand or which is stale, the food which is mixed with alcohol, the food a portion of which has been already tasted, and the food that forms the remnant of a feast, should not be taken (by a Brahmana). Cakes, sugarcanes, potherbs, and rice boiled in sugared milk, if they have lost their relish, should not be taken. The powder of fried barley and of other kinds of fried grain, mixed with curds, if become stale with age, should not be taken. Rice boiled in sugared milk, food mixed with the tila seed, meat, and cakes, that have not been dedicated to the gods, should not be taken by Brahmanas leading a domestic mode of life. Having first gratified the gods, Rishis, guests, Pitris, and the household deities, a Brahmana leading a domestic mode of life should then take his food. A householder by living thus in his own house becomes like a person of the Bhikshu order that has renounced the world. A man of such behaviour, living with his wives in domesticity, earns great religious merit. No one should make a gift for the sake of acquiring fame, or from fear (of censure and the like) or unto a benefactor. A virtuous man would not make gifts unto persons living by singing and dancing or unto those that are professional jesters, or unto a person that is intoxicated, or unto one that is insane, or unto a thief, or unto a slanderer, or unto an idiot, or unto one that is pale of hue, or unto one that is defective of a limb, or unto a dwarf, or unto a wicked person, or unto one born in a low and wicked family, or unto one that has not been sanctified by the observance of vows. No gift should be made to a Brahmana destitute of knowledge of the Vedas. Gifts should be made unto him only that is a Srotriya.[120] An improper gift and an improper acceptance produce evil consequences unto both the giver and the acceptor. As a person who seeks to cross the ocean with the aid of a rock or a mass of catechu sinks along with his support, even so the giver and the acceptor (in such a case) both sink together. As a fire that is covered with wet fuel does not blaze forth, even so the acceptor of a gift who is bereft of penances and study and piety cannot confer any benefit (upon the giver). As water in a (human skull) and milk in a bag made of dog-skin become unclean in consequence of the uncleanliness of the vessels in which they are kept even so the Vedas become fruitless in a person who is not of good behaviour. One may give from compassion unto a low Brahmana who is without mantras and vows, who is ignorant of the scriptures and who harbours envy. One may, from compassion, give unto a person that is poor or afflicted or ill. But he should not give unto such a person in the belief that he would derive any (spiritual) benefit from it or that he would earn any religious merit by it. There is no doubt that a gift made to Brahmana bereft of the Vedas becomes perfectly fruitless in consequence of the fault of the recipient. As an elephant made of wood or an antelope made of leather, even so is a Brahmana that has not studied the Vedas. All the three have nothing but names.[121] As a eunuch is unproductive with women, as a cow is unproductive with a cow, as a bird lives in vain that is featherless, even so is a Brahmana that is without mantras. As grain without kernel, as a well without water, as libations poured on ashes, even so is a gift to a Brahmana void of learning. An unlearned Brahmana is an enemy (to all) and is the destroyer of the food that is presented to the gods and Pitris. A gift made to such a person goes for nothing. He is, therefore, like unto a robber (of other people's wealth). He can never succeed in acquiring regions of bliss hereafter.' I have now told thee in brief, O Yudhishthira, all that was said (by Manu on that occasion). This high discourse should be listened to by all, O bull of Bharata's race."'" SECTION XXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O holy and great ascetic, I desire to hear in detail what the duties of kings are and what the duties, in full, of all the four orders. I desire also to hear, O foremost of Brahmanas, what behaviour should be adopted in seasons of distress, and how I may subjugate the world by treading along the path of morality. This discourse on expiation, treating (at the same time) of fasts and capable of exciting great curiosity, fills me with joy. The practice of virtue and the discharge of kingly duties are always inconsistent with each other. For always thinking of how one may reconcile the two, my mind is constantly stupefied."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then Vyasa, O monarch, that foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas, casting his eyes upon that ancient and all-knowing person, viz., Narada, said, "If, O king, thou wishest to hear of duties and morality in full, then ask Bhishma, O mighty-armed one, that old grandsire of the Kurus. Conversant with all duties and possessed of universal knowledge, that son of Bhagirathi will remove all the doubts in thy heart on the difficult subject of duties. That goddess, viz., the genius of the celestial river of three courses brought him forth. He saw with his physical eyes all the gods with Indra at their head. Having gratified with his dutiful services the celestial Rishis having Vrihaspati at their head, he acquired a knowledge of the duties of kings. That foremost one among the Kurus obtained a knowledge also of that science, with its interpretations, with Usanas and that regenerate one who is the preceptor of the celestials know. Having practised rigid vows, that mighty-armed one acquired a knowledge of all the Vedas and their branches, from Vasishtha and from Chyavana of Bhrigu's race. In olden days he studied under the eldest-born son of the Grandsire himself, viz., Sanatkumara of blazing splendour, well conversant with the truths of mental and spiritual science. He learnt the duties in full of the Yatis from the lips of Markandeya. The bull among men obtained all weapons from Rama and Sakra. Although born among human beings, his death itself is still under his own control. Although childless, yet he has many regions of bliss hereafter as heard by us. Regenerate Rishis of great merit were always his courtiers. There is nothing among objects that should be known that is unknown to him. Conversant with all duties and acquainted with all the subtle truths of morality, even he will discourse to thee upon duty and morality. Go unto him before he abandons his life breath." Thus addressed by him, the high-souled son of Kunti, of great wisdom, said the following words unto Satyavati's son Vyasa, that first of eloquent men.' "'Yudhishthira said, "Having caused a great and horrid slaughter of kinsmen, I have become an offender against all and a destroyer of the earth. Having caused that Bhishma himself, that warrior who always fought fairly, to be slain by the aid of deceit, how shall I approach him for asking him (about duties and morality)?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Moved by the desire of benefiting all the four orders, the mighty armed and high-souled chief of Yadu's race once more addressed that foremost of kings (in the following words).' "'Vasudeva said, "It behoveth thee not to show such pertinacity in grief. Do that, O best of kings, which the holy Vyasa has said. The Brahmanas, O mighty-armed one, and these thy brothers of great energy, stand before thee beseechingly like persons beseeching the deity of the clouds at the close of summer. The unslain remnant of the assembled kings, and the people belonging to all the four orders of thy kingdom of Kurujangala, O king, are here. For the sake of doing what is agreeable to these high-souled Brahmanas, in obedience also to the command of thy revered senior Vyasa of immeasurable energy, and at the request of ourselves that are thy well-wishers, and of Draupadi, O scorcher of foes, do what is agreeable to us, O slayer of foes, and what is beneficial to the world."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by Krishna, the high-souled king (Yudhishthira) of eyes like lotus petals, rose from his seat for the good of the whole world. The tiger among men, viz., Yudhishthira of great fame, besought by Krishna himself, by the Island-born (Vyasa), by Devasthana, by Jishnu, by these and many others, cast off his grief and anxiety. Fully conversant with the declarations of the Srutis, with the science that treats of the interpretation of those declarations, and with all that men usually hear and all that deserve to be heard, the son of Pandu obtained peace of mind and resolved upon that he should next do. Surrounded by all of them like the moon by the stars, the king, placing Dhritarashtra at the head of the train, set out for entering the city. Desirous of entering the city, Kunti's son Yudhishthira, conversant with every duty, offered worship unto the gods and thousands of Brahmanas. He then ascended a new and white car covered with blankets and deerskins, and unto which were yoked sixteen white bullocks possessed of auspicious marks, and which had been sanctified with Vedic mantras. Adored by panegyrists and bards, the king mounted upon that car like Soma riding upon his own ambrosial vehicle. His brother Bhima of terrible prowess took the reins. Arjuna held over his head a white umbrella of great effulgence. That white umbrella held upon the car looked beautiful like a star-decked white cloud in the firmament. The two heroic sons of Madri, viz., Nakula and Sahadeva, took up two yak-tails white as the rays of the moon and adorned with gems for fanning the king. The five brothers decked with ornaments, having ascended the car, O king, looked like the five elements (that enter into the composition of everybody). Riding upon another white car unto which were yoked steeds fleet as thought, Yuyutsu, O king, followed the eldest son of Pandu behind. Upon his own brilliant car of gold unto which were yoked Saivya and Sugriva, Krishna, with Satyaki, followed the Kurus. The eldest uncle of Pritha's son, O Bharata, accompanied by Gandhari, proceeded at the head of the train, upon a vehicle borne on the shoulders of men. The other ladies of the Kuru household, as also Kunti and Krishna, all proceeded on excellent vehicles, headed by Vidura. Behind followed a large number of cars and elephants decked with ornaments, and foot-soldiers and steeds. His praises chanted by sweet-voiced panegyrists and bards, the king proceeded towards the city called after the elephant. The progress, O mighty-armed one, of king Yudhishthira, became so beautiful that its like had never been on earth. Teeming with healthy and cheerful men, the busy hum of innumerable voices was heard there. During the progress of Pritha's son, the city and its streets were adorned with gay citizens (all of whom had come out for honouring the king). The spot through which the king passed had been decked with festoons of flowers and innumerable banners. The streets of the city were perfumed with incense. The place was overlaid with powdered perfumes and flowers and fragrant plants, and hung over with garlands and wreaths. New metallic jars, full of water to the brim, were kept at the door of every house, and bevies of beautiful maidens of the fairest complexion stood at the particular spots. Accompanied by his friends, the son of Pandu, adored with sweet speeches, entered the city through its well-adorned gate.'" SECTION XXXIX "Vaisampayana said, 'At the time the Parthas entered the city, thousands upon thousands of the citizens came out to behold the sight. The well-adorned squares and streets, with crowd swelling at each moment looked beautiful like the ocean swelling at the rise of the moon. The large mansions that stood on the street-sides, decked with every ornament and full of ladies, seemed to shake, O Bharata, with their weight. With soft and modest voices they uttered the praises of Yudhishthira, of Bhima and Arjuna, and of the two sons of Madri. And they said, "Worthy of all praise art thou, O blessed princess of Panchala, that waitest by the side of those foremost of men even like Gautami by the side of the (seven) Rishis. Thy acts and vows have borne their fruits, O lady!" In this strain, O monarch, the ladies praised the princess Krishna. In consequence of those praises, O Bharata, and their speeches with one another, and the shouts of joy (uttered by the men), the city became filled with a loud uproar. Having passed through the streets with such behaviour as befitted him, Yudhishthira then entered the beautiful palace (of the Kurus) adorned with every ornament. The people belonging to the city and the provinces, approaching the palace, uttered speeches that were agreeable to his ears, "By good luck, O foremost of kings, thou hast vanquished thy enemies, O slayer of foes! By good luck, thou hast recovered thy kingdom through virtue and prowess. Be, O foremost of kings, our monarch for a hundred years, and protect thy subjects virtuously like Indra protecting the denizens of heaven." Thus adored at the palace-gate with blessed speeches, and accepting the benedictions uttered by the Brahmanas from every side, the king, graced with victory and the blessings of the people, entered the palace that resembled the mansion of Indra himself, and then descended from his car. Entering the apartments, blessed Yudhishthira approached the household gods and worshipped them with gems and scents and floral wreaths. Possessed of great fame and prosperity, the king came out once more and beheld a number of Brahmanas waiting with auspicious articles in their hands (for pronouncing benedictions on him). Surrounded by those Brahmanas desirous of uttering benedictions on him, the king looked beautiful like the spotless moon in the midst of the stars. Accompanied by his priest Dhaumya and his eldest uncle, the son of Kunti cheerfully worshipped, with due rites, those Brahmanas with (gifts of) sweets, gems, and gold in profusion, and kine and robes, O monarch, and with diverse other articles that each desired. Then loud shouts of "This is a blessed day" arose, filling the entire welkin, O Bharata. Sweet to the ear, that sacred sound was highly gratifying to the friends and well-wishers (of the Pandavas). The king heard that sound uttered by those learned Brahmanas and that was as loud and clear as the sound of a flock of swans. He listened also to the speeches, fraught with melodious words and grave import, of those persons well conversant with the Vedas. Then, O king, the peal of drums and the delightful blare of conchs, indicative of triumph, arose. A little while after when the Brahmanas had become silent, a Rakshasa of the name of Charvaka, who had disguised himself as a Brahmana, addressed the king. He was a friend of Duryodhana and stood there in the garb of a religious mendicant. With a rosary, with a tuft of hair on his head, and with the triple staff in his hand, he stood proudly and fearlessly in the midst of all those Brahmanas that had come there for pronouncing benedictions (upon the king), numbering by thousands, O king, and all of whom were devoted to penances and vows. That wicked wight, desirous of evil unto the high-souled Pandavas and without having consulted those Brahmanas, said these words unto the king.' "'Charvaka said, "All these Brahmanas, making me their spokesman, are saying, 'Fie on thee! Thou art a wicked king. Thou art a slayer of kinsmen.' What shalt thou gain, O son of Kunti, by having thus exterminated thy race? Having slain also thy superiors and preceptor, it is proper for thee to cast away thy life." Hearing these words of that wicked Rakshasa the Brahmanas there became deeply agitated. Stung by that speech, they made a loud uproar. And all of them, with king Yudhishthira. O monarch, became speechless from anxiety and shame.' "'Yudhishthira said, "I bow down to you and beseech you humbly, be gratified with me. It doth not behove you to cry fie on me. I shall soon lay down my life."'[122] "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then all those Brahmanas, O king, loudly said, "These are not our words. Prosperity to thee, O monarch!" Those high-souled persons, conversant with the Vedas, with understanding rendered clear by penances, then penetrated the disguise of the speaker by means of their spiritual sight. And they said, "This is the Rakshasa Charvaka, the friend of Duryodhana. Having put on the garb of a religious mendicant, he seeks the good of his friend Duryodhana. We have not, O thou of righteous soul, said anything of the kind. Let this anxiety of thine be dispelled. Let prosperity attend upon thee with thy brothers."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'These Brahmanas then, insensate with rage, uttered the sound Hun. Cleansed of all sins, they censured the sinful Rakshasa and slew him there (with that very sound). Consumed by the energy of those utterers of Brahma, Charvaka fell down dead, like a tree with all its sprouts blasted by the thunder of Indra. Duly worshipped, the Brahmanas went away, having gladdened the king with their benedictions. The royal son of Pandu also, with all his friends, felt great happiness.'" SECTION XL "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Devaki's son Janardana of universal knowledge addressed king Yudhishthira who stood there with his brothers, saying, "In this world, O sire, Brahmanas are always the objects of worship with me. They are gods on earth having poison in their speech, and are exceedingly easy to gratify. Formerly, in the Krita age, O king, a Rakshasa of the name of Charvaka, O mighty-armed one, performed austere penances for many years in Vadari. Brahman repeatedly solicited him to ask for boons. At last the Rakshasa solicited the boon, O Bharata, of immunity from fear at the hand of every being in the universe. The Lord of the universe gave that high boon of immunity from fear at the hands of all creatures, subject to the only limitation that he should be careful of how he offended the Brahmanas. Having obtained that boon, the sinful and mighty Rakshasa of fierce deeds and great prowess began to give pain to the gods. The gods, persecuted by the might of the Rakshasa, assembling together, approached Brahman, for compassing their foe's destruction. The eternal and unchangeable god answered them, O Bharata, saying, 'I have already arranged the means by which the death of this Rakshasa may soon be brought about. There will be a king of the name of Duryodhana. Among men, he will be the friend of this wight. Bound by affection towards him, the Rakshasa will insult the Brahmanas. Stung by the wrong he will inflict upon them, the Brahmanas, whose might consists in speech, will in wrath censure him at which he will meet with destruction.' Even that Rakshasa Charvaka, O foremost of kings, slain by the curse of the Brahmanas, lies there deprived of life. Do not, O bull of Bharata's race, give way to grief. The kinsmen, O king, have all perished in the observance of Kshatriya duties. Those bulls among Kshatriyas, those high-souled heroes, have all gone to heaven. Do thou attend to thy duties now. O thou of unfading glory, let no grief be thine. Stay thy foes, protect thy subjects, and worship the Brahmanas."'" SECTION XLI "Vaisampayana said, 'The royal son of Kunti, freed from grief and the fever of his heart, took his seat, with face eastwards, on excellent seat made of gold. On another seat, beautiful and blazing and made of gold, sat with face directed towards him, those two chastisers of foes, viz., Satyaki and Vasudeva. Placing the king in their midst, on his two sides sat Bhima and Arjuna upon two beautiful seats adorned with gems. Upon a white throne of ivory, decked with gold, sat Pritha with Sahadeva and Nakula. Sudharman,[123] and Vidura, and Dhaumya, and the Kuru king Dhritarashtra, each sat separately on separate seats that blazed with the effulgence of fire. Yuyutsu and Sanjaya and Gandhari of great fame, all sat down where king Dhritarashtra had taken his seat. The righteous-souled king, seated there, touched the beautiful white flowers, Swastikas, vessels full of diverse articles, earth, gold, silver, and gems, (that were placed before him). Then all the subjects, headed by the priest, came to see king Yudhishthira, bringing with them diverse kinds of auspicious articles. Then earth, and gold, and many kinds of gems, and all the things in profusion that were necessary for the performance of the coronation rite, were brought there. There were golden jars full to the brim (with water), and those made of copper and silver and earth, and flowers, and fried paddy, and Kusa grass, and cow's milk, and (sacrificial) fuel consisting of the wood of Sami, Pippala, and Palasa, and honey and clarified butter and (sacrificial) ladles made of Udumvara, and conches adorned with gold.[124] Then the priest Dhaumya, at the request of Krishna, constructed, according to rule, an altar gradually inclining towards the cast and the north. Causing the high-souled Yudhishthira then, with Krishna the daughter of Drupada, to be seated upon a handsome seat, called Sarvatobhadra, with firm feet and covered with tiger-skin and blazing with effulgence, began to pour libations of clarified butter (upon the sacrificial fire) with proper mantras. Then he of Dasaratha's race, rising from his seat, took up the sanctified conch, poured the water it contained upon the head of that lord of earth, viz., Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti. The royal sage Dhritarashtra and all the subjects also did the same at the request of Krishna. The son of Pandu then, with his brothers, thus bathed with the sanctified water of the conch, looked exceedingly beautiful. Then Panavas and Anakas and drums were beaten. King Yudhishthira the just duly accepted the gifts made unto him by the subjects. Always giving away presents in profusion in all his sacrifices, the king honoured his subjects in return. He gave a thousand nishkas unto the Brahmanas that uttered (especial) benedictions on him. All of them had studied the Vedas and were endued with wisdom and good behaviour. Gratified (with gifts), the Brahmanas, O king, wished him prosperity and victory, and with voices melodious like that of swans, uttered his praises, saying, "O Yudhishthira of mighty arms, by good luck, O son of Pandu, victory has been thine. By good luck, O thou of great splendour, thou hast recovered thy position through prowess. By good luck, the wielder of Gandiva, and Bhimasena, and thyself, O king, and the two sons of Madri, are all well, having slain your foes and escaped with life from the battle, so destructive of heroes. Do thou, O Bharata, attend without delay to those acts that should next be done." Thus adored by those pious men, king Yudhishthira the just, with his friends, became installed on the throne of a large kingdom, O Bharata!'" SECTION XLII "Vaisampayana said, 'Having heard those words, suitable to time and place, of his subjects, king Yudhishthira answered them in the following words, "Great must be the sons of Pandu, in sooth, whose merits, true or false, are thus recited by such foremost of Brahmanas assembled together. Without doubt, we are all objects of favour with you since you so freely describe us to be possessed of such attributes. King Dhritarashtra, however, is our father and god. If ye desire to do what is agreeable to me, always render your obedience to him and what is agreeable to him. Having slaughtered all my kinsmen, I live for him alone. My great duty is to always serve him in every respect with watchfulness. If ye, as also my friends, think that I should be an object of favour with you and them, let me then request you all to show the same behaviour towards Dhritarashtra as ye used to show before. He is the lord of the world, of yourselves, and of myself. The whole world, with the Pandavas, belongs to him. Ye should always bear these words of mine in your minds." The king then told them to go whithersoever they liked. Having dismissed the citizens and the people of the provinces, the delighter of the Kurus appointed his brother Bhimasena as Yuvaraja. And he cheerfully appointed Vidura of great intelligence for assisting him with his deliberations and for overlooking the sixfold requirements of the state.[125] And he appointed Sanjaya of mature years and possessed of every accomplishment, as general director and supervisor of the finances. And the king appointed Nakula for keeping the register of the forces, for giving them food and pay and for supervising other affairs of the army. And king Yudhishthira appointed Phalguna for resisting hostile forces and chastising the wicked. And he appointed Dhaumya, the foremost of priests, to attend daily to the Brahmanas and all rites in honour of the gods and other acts of a religious kind. And he appointed Sahadeva to always remain by his side, for the king thought, O monarch, that he should under all circumstances be protected by that brother of his. And the king cheerfully employed others in other acts according as he deemed them fit. That slayer of hostile heroes, viz., the righteous-souled king Yudhishthira, ever devoted to virtue, commanded Vidura and the high-souled Yuyutsu, saying, "You should always with alacrity and attention do everything that my royal father Dhritarashtra wishes. Whatever also should be done in respect of the citizens and the residents of the provinces should be accomplished by you in your respective departments, after taking the king's permission."'" SECTION XLIII "Vaisampayana said, 'After this king Yudhishthira of magnanimous soul caused the Sraddha rites to be performed of every one of his kinsmen slain in battle. King Dhritarashtra also of great fame, gave away, for the good of his sons in the other world, excellent food, and kine, and much wealth, and many beautiful and costly gems (unto the Brahmanas). Yudhishthira accompanied by Draupadi, gave much wealth for the sake of Drona and the high-souled Karna, of Dhrishtadyumna and Abhimanyu, of the Rakshasa Ghatotkacha, the son of Hidimva, and of Virata, and his other well-wishers that had served him loyally, and of Drupada and the five sons of Draupadi. For the sake of each of these, the king gratified thousands of Brahmanas with gifts of wealth and gems, and kine and clothes. The king performed the Sraddha rite for the good in the next world, of every one of those kings also who had fallen in the battle without leaving kinsmen or friends behind. And the king also, for the good of the souls of all his friends, caused houses to be founded for the distribution of food, and places for the distribution of water, and tanks to be excavated in their names. Thus paying off the debt he owed to them and avoiding the chance of censure in the world,[126] the king became happy and continued to protect his subjects religiously. He showed due honour, as before, unto Dhritarashtra, and Gandhari, and Vidura, and unto all the superior Kauravas and unto all the officers. Full of kindness, the Kuru king honoured and protected all those ladies also who had, in consequence of the battle, been deprived of their heroic husbands and sons. The puissant king, with great compassion, extended his favours to the destitute and the blind and the helpless by giving them food, clothes and shelter. Freed from foes and having conquered the whole Earth, king Yudhishthira began to enjoy great happiness.'" SECTION XLIV "Vaisampayana said, 'Having got back the kingdom, king Yudhishthira of great wisdom and purity, after the ceremony of installation had been over, joining his hands together, addressed the lotus-eyed Krishna of Dasarha's race, saying, "Through thy grace, O Krishna, through thy policy and might and intelligence and prowess, O tiger among the Yadus, I have got back this ancestral kingdom of mine. O thou of eyes like lotus leaves, I repeatedly bow to thee, O chastiser of foes! Thou hast been called the One only Being. Thou hast been said to be the refuge of all worshippers. The regenerate ones adore thee under innumerable names.[127] Salutations to thee, O Creator of the Universe! Thou art the soul of the Universe and the Universe hath sprung from thee. Thou art Vishnu, thou art Jishnu, thou art Hari, thou art Krishna, thou art Vaikuntha, and thou art the foremost of all beings. Thou hast, as said in the Puranas, taken thy birth seven times in the womb of Aditi. It was thou that tookest birth in the womb of Prishni.[128] The learned say that thou art the three Yugas.[129] All thy achievements are sacred. Thou art the lord of our senses. Thou art the great Lord worshipped in sacrifices. Thou art called the great swan. Thou art three-eyed Sambhu. Thou art One, though known as Vibhu and Damodara. Thou art the great Boar, thou art Fire, thou art the Sun, thou hast the bull for the device on thy banner, and thou hast Garuda also as thy device. Thou art the grinder of hostile hosts, thou art the Being that pervadest every form in the universe and thou art of irresistible prowess. Thou art the foremost of all things, thou art fierce, thou art the generalissimo in battle, thou art the Truth, thou art the giver of food, and thou art Guha (the celestial generalissimo); Thyself unfading, thou causest thy foes to fade and waste. Thou art the Brahmana of pure blood, and thou art those that have sprung from intermixture. Thou art great. Thou walkest on high, thou art the mountains, and thou art called Vrishadarbha and Vrishakapi. Thou art the Ocean, thou art without attributes, thou hast three humps, thou hast three abodes, and thou takest human forms on earth, descending from heaven. Thou art Emperor, thou art Virat, and thou art Swarat.[130] Thou art the Chief of the celestials, and thou art the cause whence the Universe has sprung. Thou art Almighty, thou art existence in every form, thou art without form, thou art Krishna, and thou art fire. Thou art the Creator, thou art the sire of the celestial physicians, thou art (the sage) Kapila, and thou art the Dwarf.[131] Thou art Sacrifice embodied, thou art Dhruva,[132] thou art Garuda, and thou art called Yajnasena. Thou art Sikhandin, thou art Nahusha, and thou art Vabhru. Thou art the constellation Punarvasu extended in the firmament, Thou art exceedingly tawny in hue, thou art the sacrifice known by the name of Uktha, thou art Sushena, thou art the drum (that sends forth its sound on every side). The track of thy car-wheels is light. Thou art the lotus of Prosperity, thou art the cloud called Pushkara, and thou art decked with floral wreaths. Thou art affluent, thou art puissant, thou art the most subtle, and it is thou whom the Vedas describe. Thou art the great receptacle of waters, thou art Brahman, thou art the sacred refuge, and thou knowest the abodes of all. Thou art called Hiranyagarbha, thou art the sacred mantras swadha and swaha, thou art Kesava. Thou art the cause whence all this hath sprung, and thou art its dissolution. In the beginning it is thou that createst the universe. This universe is under thy control, O Creator of the universe! Salutations to thee, O wielder of Sarnga, discus and sword!" Thus hymned by king Yudhishthira the just in the midst of the court, the lotus-eyed Krishna became pleased. That foremost one of the Yadavas then began to gladden the eldest son of Pandu with many agreeable speeches.'" SECTION XLV "Vaisampayana said, 'The king dismissed all his subjects, who, commanded by the monarch, returned to their respective homes. Comforting his brothers, Yudhishthira, blazing with beauty, then addressed his brothers Bhima of terrible prowess and Arjuna and the twins, saying, "Your bodies have, in the great battle, been mangled with diverse kinds of weapons by the foe. Ye are greatly fatigued, grief and anger have scorched your hearts. Through my fault, ye bulls of Bharata's race, ye have suffered the miseries of an exile in the forests like vulgar men. In delight and in happy ease enjoy this victory (that ye have won). After resting yourselves and regaining the full use of your faculties, meet me again in the morning." After this, the mighty-armed Vrikodara like Maghavat entering his own beautiful fane, entered the palace of Duryodhana, that was adorned with many excellent buildings and rooms, that adorned with gems of diverse kinds, that teemed with servants, male and female, and that Yudhishthira assigned to him with the approval of Dhritarashtra. The mighty-armed Arjuna also, at the command of the king, obtained the palace of Dussasana which was not inferior to Duryodhana's and which consisted of many excellent structures and was adorned with a gate-way of gold, and which abounded in wealth and was full of attendants of both sexes. The palace of Durmarshana was even superior to that of Dussasana. Looking like the mansion of Kuvera himself, it was adorned with gold and every kind of gem. King Yudhishthira gladly gave it to Nakula who deserved it best and who had been emaciated (with the miseries of a life) in the great forest. The foremost of palaces belonging to Durmukha was exceedingly beautiful and adorned with gold. It abounded in beds and beautiful women, with eyes like lotus-petals. The king gave it unto Sahadeva who was ever employed in doing what was agreeable to him. Obtaining it, Sahadeva became delighted as the Lord of treasures upon obtaining Kailasa. Yuyutsu and Vidura and Sanjaya, O monarch, and Sudharman and Dhaumya, proceeded to the abodes they had owned before.[133] Like a tiger entering his cave in the hills, that tiger among men, viz., Saurin, accompanied by Satyaki, entered the palace of Arjuna. Feasting on the viands and drinks (that had been kept ready for them), the princes passed the night happily. Awaking in the morning with well pleased hearts, they presented themselves before king Yudhishthira.'" SECTION XLVI "Janamejaya said, 'It behoveth thee, O learned Brahmana, to tell me what was next done by Yudhishthira the mighty-armed son of Dharma after he had regained his kingdom. It behoveth thee to tell me also, O Rishi, what the heroic Hrishikesa, the supreme master of the three worlds did after this.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Listen to me, O king, as I narrate in detail, O sinless one, what the Pandavas, headed by Vasudeva, did after this. Having obtained his kingdom, O monarch, Kunti's son Yudhishthira appointed each of the four orders of men to their respective duties. The (eldest) son of Pandu gave unto a thousand high-souled Brahmanas of the Snataka order a thousand Nishkas each. He then gratified the servants that were dependant on him and the guests that came to him, including persons that were undeserving and those that held heterodox views, by fulfilling their wishes. Unto his priest Dhaumya he gave kine in thousands and much wealth and gold and silver and robes of diverse kinds. Towards Kripa, O monarch, the king behaved in the way one should towards one's preceptor. Observant of vows, the king continued to honour Vidura greatly. That foremost of charitable men gratified all persons with gifts of food and drink and robes of diverse kinds and beds and seats. Having restored peace to his kingdom, the king, O best of monarchs, possessed of great fame, paid due honour unto Yuyutsu and Dhritarashtra. Placing his kingdom, at the disposal of Dhritarashtra, of Gandhari, and of Vidura, king Yudhishthira continued to pass his days happily. Having gratified everybody, including the citizens, in this way, Yudhishthira, O bull of Bharata's race, then proceeded with joined hands to the presence of the high-souled Vasudeva. He beheld Krishna, of the hue of a blue cloud, seated on a large sofa adorned with gold and gems. Attired in yellow robes of silk and decked with celestial ornaments, his person blazed with splendour like a Jewel set on gold. His bosom adorned with the Kaustubha gem, he looked like the Udaya mountain that decked the rising Sun. So beautiful did he look that there is no simile in the three worlds. Approaching the high-souled one who was Vishnu himself in incarnate form, king Yudhishthira addressed him sweetly and smilingly, saying, "O foremost of intelligent men, hast thou passed the night happily? O thou of unfading glory, are all thy faculties in their full vigour? O foremost of intelligent persons, is it all right with thy understanding? We have got back our kingdom and the whole earth has come under our control, O divine lord, through thy grace, O refuge of the three worlds and, O thou of three steps,[134] through thy grace have we won victory and obtained great fame and have not fallen away from the duties of our order!" Unto that chastiser of foes, viz., king Yudhishthira the just who addressed him in that strain the divine Krishna said not a word, for he was then rapt in meditation.'" SECTION XLVII "'Yudhishthira said, "How wonderful is this, O thou of immeasurable prowess, that thou art rapt in meditation! O great refuge of the universe, is it all right with the three worlds? When thou hast, O God, withdrawn thyself (from the world), having, O bull among men, adopted the fourth state, my mind has been filled with wonder.[135] The five life-breaths that act within the body have been controlled by thee into stillness. Thy delighted senses thou hast concentrated within thy mind. Both speech and mind, O Govinda, have been concentrated within thy understanding. All thy senses, indeed, have been withdrawn into thy soul.[136] The hair on thy body stands erect. Thy mind and understanding are both still. Thou art as immobile now, O Madhava, as a wooden post or a stone. O illustrious God, thou art as still as the flame of a lamp burning in a place where there is no wind. Thou art as immobile as a mass of rock. If I am fit to hear the cause, if it is no secret of thine, dispel, O god, my doubt for I beg of thee and solicit it as a favour. Thou art the Creator and thou art the Destroyer. Thou art destructible and thou art indestructible. Thou art without beginning and thou art without end. Thou art the first and the foremost of Beings. O foremost of righteous persons, tell me the cause of this (Yoga) abstraction. I solicit thy favour, and am thy devoted worshipper, and bow to thee, bending my head." Thus addressed, the illustrious younger brother of Vasava, recalling his mind, understanding, and the senses to their usual sphere, said these words with a soft smile.' "'Vasudeva said, "That tiger among men, Bhishma, who is now lying on a bed of arrows, and who is now like unto a fire that is about to go out, is thinking of me. Hence my mind also was concentrated on him. My mind was concentrated upon him, the twang of whose bowstring and the sound of whose palms Indra himself was unable to bear. I was thinking of him who having vanquished in a trice all the assembled kings (at the Self-choice of the daughters of the king of Kasi) abducted the three princesses for the marriage of his brother Vichitravirya. I was thinking of him who fought continually for three and twenty days with Rama himself of Bhrigu's race and whom Rama was unable to overcome. Collecting all his senses and concentrating his mind by the aid of his understanding, he sought my refuge (by thinking of me). It was for this that I had centered my mind upon him. I was thinking of him whom Ganga conceived and brought forth according to ordinary human laws and whom Vasishtha took as a pupil. I was thinking of that hero of mighty energy and great intelligence who possesses a knowledge of all the celestial weapons as also of the four Vedas with all their branches. I was thinking of him, O son of Pandu, who is the favourite disciple of Rama, the son of Jamadagni, and who is the receptacle of the sciences. I was thinking of that foremost of all persons conversant with morality and duty, of him, O bull of Bharata's race, who knows the Past, the Future, and the Present. After that tiger among kings shall have, in consequences of his own achievements, ascended to heaven, the earth, O son of Pritha, will look like a moonless night. Therefore, O Yudhishthira, submissively approaching Ganga's son, viz., Bhishma of terrible prowess, question him about what thou mayst desire to learn. O lord of the earth, enquire of him about the four branches of knowledge (in respect of morality, profit, pleasure and salvation), about the sacrifices and the rites laid down for the four orders, about the four modes of life, and about the kingly duties in full. When Bhishma, that foremost one of Kuru's race, will disappear from the world, every kind of knowledge will disappear with him. It is for this that I urge thee (to go to him now)." Hearing these beneficial words of high import from Vasudeva, the righteous Yudhishthira, with voice choked in tears, answered Janardana, saying, "What thou hast said, O Madhava, about the eminence of Bhishma, is perfectly true. I have not the slightest doubt regarding it. Indeed, I had heard of the high blessedness, as also the greatness, of the illustrious Bhishma from high-souled Brahmanas discoursing upon it. Thou, O slayer of foes, art the Creator of all the worlds. There cannot, therefore, O delighter of the Yadavas, be the slightest doubt in what thou sayest. If thy heart be inclined to show grace, O Madhava, then we shall go unto Bhishma with thyself at our head. When the divine Surya shall have turned towards the north, Bhishma will leave (this world), for those regions of bliss that he has won. That descendant of Kuru's race, therefore, O mighty-armed one, deserves to have a sight of thee. (If thou grantest my prayer), Bhishma will then obtain a sight of thee that art the first of Gods, of thee that art destructible and indestructible. Indeed, O lord, thou it is that art the vast receptacle of Brahma."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of king Yudhishthira the just, the slayer of Madhu addressed Satyaki who was sitting beside him, saying, "Let my car be yoked." At this, Satyaki quickly left Kesava's presence and going out, commanded Daruka, saying, "Let Krishna's car be made ready." Hearing the words of Satyaki, Daruka speedily yoked Krishna's car. That foremost of vehicles, adorned with gold, decked with a profusion of emeralds, and moon-gems and sun-gems, furnished with wheels covered with gold, possessed of effulgence, fleet as the wind, set in the middle with diverse other kinds of jewels, beautiful as the morning sun, equipped with a beautiful standard topped by Garuda, and gay with numerous banners, had those foremost of steeds, fleet as thought, viz., Sugriva and Saivya and the other two, in trappings of gold, yoked unto it. Having yoked it, O tiger, among kings, Daruka, with joined hands, informed Krishna of the fact.'" SECTION XLVIII "Janamejaya said, 'How did the grandsire of the Bharatas, who lay on a bed of arrows, cast off his body and what kind of Yoga did he adopt?' "Vaisampayana said, 'Listen, O king, with pure heart and concentrated attention, as to how, O tiger among the Kurus, the high-souled Bhishma cast off his body. As soon as the Sun, passing the solstitial point, entered in his northerly course, Bhishma, with concentrated attention, caused his soul (as connected with and independent of the body) to enter his soul (in its independent and absolute state). Surrounded by many foremost of Brahmanas, that hero, his body pierced with innumerable arrows, blazed forth in great beauty like Surya himself with his innumerable rays. Surrounded by Vyasa conversant with the Vedas, by the celestial Rishi Narada, by Devasthana, by Asmaka Sumantu, by Jaimini, by the high-souled Paila, by Sandilya, by Devarata, by Maitreya of great intelligence, by Asita and Vasishtha and the high-souled Kausika, by Harita and Lomasa and Atri's son of great intelligence, by Vrihaspati and Sukra and the great sage Chyavana, by Sanatkumara and Kapila and Valmiki and Tumvuru and Kuru, by Maudgalya and Rama of Bhrigu's race, and the great sage Trinavindu, by Pippalada and Vayu and Samvarta and Pulaha and Katha, by Kasyapa and Pulastya and Kratu and Daksha and Parasara, by Marichi and Angiras and Kasmya and Gautama and the sage Galava, by Dhaumya and Vibhanda and Mandavya and Dhaumra and Krishnanubhautika, by Uluka, that foremost of Brahmanas and the great sage Markandeya, by Bhaskari and Purana and Krishna and Suta,--that foremost of virtuous persons, surrounded by these and many other highly-blessed sages of great souls and possessed of faith and self-restraint and tranquillity of mind, the Kuru hero looked like the Moon in the midst of the planets and the stars. Stretched on his bed of arrows, that tiger among men, Bhishma, with pure heart and joined palms, thought of Krishna in mind, word, and act. With a cheerful and strong voice he hymned the praise of the slayer of Madhu, that master of yoga, with the lotus in his navel, that lord of the universe, called Vishnu and Jishnu. With joined hands, that foremost of eloquent men, that puissant one, viz., Bhishma of highly virtuous soul, thus praised Vasudeva. "'Bhishma said, "O Krishna, O foremost of Beings, be thou pleased with these words which I utter, in brief and in detail, from desire of hymning thy praises. Thou art pure and purity's self. Thou transcendest all. Thou art what people say to be THAT. Thou art the Supreme Lord. With my whole heart I seek thy refuge, O universal Soul and Lord of all creatures![137] Thou art without beginning and without end. Thou art the highest of the high and Brahma. Neither the gods nor the Rishis know thee. The divine Creator, called Narayana or Hari, alone knows thee. Through Narayana, the Rishis, the Siddhas, the great Nagas, the gods, and the celestial Rishis know a little of thee. Thou art the highest of the high and knowest no deterioration. The gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Yakshas, the Pannagas, do not know who thou art and whence art thou. All the worlds and all created things live in thee, and enter thee (when the dissolution comes). Like gems strung together in a thread, all things that have attributes reside in thee, the Supreme Lord.[138] Having the universe for thy work and the universe for thy limbs, this universe consisting of mind and matter resides in thy eternal and all-pervading soul like a number of flowers strung together in a strong thread. Thou art called Hari, of a thousand heads, a thousand feet, a thousand eyes, a thousand arms, a thousand crowns, and a thousand faces of great splendour. Thou art called Narayana, divinity, and the refuge of the universe. Thou art the subtlest of the subtle, grossest of the gross, the heaviest of the heavy and the highest of the high. In the Vaks, the Anuvaks, the Nishads, and Upanishads, thou art regarded as the Supreme Being of irresistible force. In the Samans also, whose declarations are always true, thou art regarded as Truth's self![139] Thou art of quadruple soul. Thou art displayed in only the understanding (of all creatures). Thou art the Lord of those that are bound to thee in faith. O God, thou art adored (by the faithful) under four excellent, high, and secret names.[140] Penances are ever present in thee. Performed (by other creatures for gratifying thee), penances live in thy form. Thou art the Universal Soul. Thou art of universal knowledge. Thou art the universe. Thou art omniscient. Thou art the creator of everything in the universe.[141] Like a couple of sticks generating a blazing fire, thou hast been born of the divine Devaki and Vasudeva for the protection of Brahma on earth.[142] For this eternal salvation, the devout worshipper, with mind withdrawn from everything else and casting off all desires, beholds thee, O Govinda, that art the pure Soul, in his own soul. Thou transcendest Surya in glory. Thou art beyond the ken of the senses and the understanding. O Lord of all creatures, I place myself in thy hands. In the Puranas thou hast been spoken as Purusha (all-pervading spirit). On occasions of the commencement of the Yugas, thou art said to be Brahma, while on occasions of universal dissolution thou art spoken of as Sankarshana. Adorable thou art, and therefore I adore thee. Though one, thou hast yet been born in innumerable forms. Thou hast thy passions under complete control. Thy devout worshippers, faithfully performing the rites laid down in the scriptures, sacrifice to thee, O giver of every wish! Thou art called the sheath within which the universe lies. All created things live in thee. Like swans and ducks swimming on the water, all the worlds that we see float in thee. Thou art Truth. Thou art One and undeteriorating. Thou art Brahma, Thou art That which is beyond Mind and Matter. Thou art without beginning, middle, and end. Neither the gods nor the Rishis know thee. The gods, the Asuras, the Gandharvas, the Siddhas, the Rishis, and the great Uragas with concentrated souls, always adore thee. Thou art the great panacea for all sorrow. Thou art without birth and death. Thou art Divine. Thou art self-created. Thou art eternal. Thou art invisible and beyond ken. Thou art called Hari and Narayana, O puissant one. The Vedas declare thee to be the Creator of the universe and the Lord of everything existing in the universe. Thou art the Supreme protector of the universe. Thou knowest no deterioration and thou art that which is called the highest. Thou art of the complexion of gold. Thou art the slayer of Asuras. Though One, Aditi brought thee forth in twelve forms.[143] Salutations to thee that art the soul of the Sun. Salutations to thee in thy form of Soma that is spoken of as the chief of all the regenerate ones and that gratifies with nectar the gods in the lighted fortnight and the Pitris in the dark fortnight. Thou art the One Being of transcendent effulgence dwelling on the other side of thick darkness. Knowing thee one ceases to have any fear of death. Salutations to thee in that form which is an object of knowledge.[144] In the grand Uktha sacrifice, the Brahmanas adore thee as the great Rich. In the great fire-sacrifice, they sing thee as the chief Adhyaryu (priest). Thou art the soul of the Vedas. Salutations to thee. The Richs, the Yajus, and the Samans are thy abode. Thou art the five kinds of sanctified libations (used in sacrifices). Thou art the seven woofs used in the Vedas. Salutations to thee in thy form of Sacrifice.[145] Libations are poured on the Homa fire in accompaniment with the seventeen monosyllabic sounds. Thou art the soul of the Homa. Salutations to thee! Thou art that Purusha whom the Vedas sing. Thy name is Yajus. The Vedic metres are thy limbs. The sacrifices laid down in the three Vedas are thy three heads. The great sacrifice called Rathantara is thy voice expressive of gratification. Salutation to thee in thy form of sacred hymns! Thou art the Rishi that hadst appeared in the great sacrifice extending for a thousand years performed by the creators of the universe. Thou art the great swan with wings of gold. Salutations to thee in thy form of a swan.[146] Roots with all kinds of affixes and suffixes are thy limbs. The Sandhis are thy joints. The consonants and the vowels are thy ornaments. The Vedas have declared thee to be the divine word. Salutations to thee in thy form as the word![147] Assuming the form of a boar whose limbs were constituted by sacrifice, thou hadst raised the submerged earth for the benefit of the three worlds. Salutations to thee in thy form of infinite prowess! Thou sleepest in Yoga on thy snake-decked sofa constituted by the thousand hoods (of the Naga). Salutations to thee in thy form of sleep! Thou buildest the bridge for the good (to cross the sea of life) with Truth, with those means by which emancipation may be obtained, and with the means by which the senses may be controlled. Salutations to thee in thy form of Truth! Men practising diverse creeds, actuated by desire of diverse fruits worship thee with diverse rites. Salutations to thee in thy form of Creed! From thee have all things sprung. It is thou that excitest all creatures having physical frames containing the principle of desire. Salutations to thee in thy form of Excitement. The great Rishis seek thy unmanifest self within the manifest. Called Kshetrajna, thou sittest in Kshetra. Salutations to thee in thy form of Kshetra![148] Thou always conscious and present in self, the Sankhyas still describe thee as existing in the three states of wakefulness, dream, and sound sleep. They further speak of thee as possessed of sixteen attributes and representing the number seventeen. Salutations to thy form as conceived by the Sankhyas![149] Casting off sleep, restraining breath, withdrawn into their own selves, Yogins of restrained senses behold thee as eternal light. Salutations to thee in thy Yoga form! Peaceful Sannyasins, freed from fear of rebirth in consequence of the destruction of all their sins and merits, obtain thee. Salutations to thee in thy form of emancipation![150] At the end of a thousand Yugas, thou assumest the form of a fire with blazing flames and consumest all creatures. Salutations to thee in thy form of fierceness! Having consumed all creatures and making the universe one vast expanse of water, thou sleepest on the waters in the form of a child. Salutations to thee in thy form as Maya (illusion)! From the navel of the Self-born of eyes like lotus leaves, sprang a lotus. On that lotus is established this universe. Salutations to thee in thy form as lotus! Thou hast a thousand heads. Thou pervadest everything. Thou art of immeasurable soul. Thou hast subjugated the four kinds of desire that are as vast as the four oceans. Salutations to thee in thy form of Yoga-sleep! The clouds are in the hair of thy head. The rivers are in the several joints of thy limbs. The four oceans are in thy stomach. Salutations to thee in thy form as water! Birth and the change represented by death spring from thee. All things, again, at the universal dissolution dissolve away in thee. Salutations to thy form as cause! Thou sleepest not in the night. Thou art occupied in day time also. Thou observest the good and the bad actions (of all). Salutations to thee in thy form of (universal) observer! There is no act which thou canst not do. Thou art, again, ever ready to accomplish acts that are righteous. Salutations to thee in thy form of Work, the form, viz., which is called Vaikuntha! In wrath thou hadst, in battle, exterminated thrice seven times the Kshatriyas who had trampled virtue and authority under their feet. Salutations to thee in thy form of Cruelty! Dividing thyself into five portions thou hast become the five vital breaths that act within everybody and cause every living creature to move. Salutations to thee in thy form of air! Thou appearest in every Yuga in the form called month and season and half-year and year, and art the cause of both creation and dissolution. Salutations to thee in thy form of Time! Brahmanas are thy mouth, Kshatriyas are thy two arms, Vaisyas are thy stomach and thighs, and Sudras live in thy feet. Salutations to thee in thy form of caste! Fire constitute thy mouth. The heavens are the crown of thy head. The sky is thy navel. The earth is thy feet. The Sun is thy eye. The points of the compass are thy ears. Salutations to thee in thy form as the (three) worlds! Thou art superior to Time. Thou art superior to Sacrifice. Thou art higher than the highest. Thyself without origin, thou art the origin of the universe. Salutations to thee in thy form as Universe! Men of the world, according to the attributes ascribed to thee by the Vaiseshika theory, regard thee as the Protector of the world. Salutations to thee in thy form of Protector! Assuming the forms of food, drink, and fuel, thou increasest the humours and the life-breaths of creatures and upholdest their existence. Salutations to thee in thy form of life! For supporting the life-breaths thou eatest the four kinds of food.[151] Assuming also the form of Agni within the stomach, thou digestest that food. Salutations to thee in the form of digesting heat! Assuming the form of half-man and half-lion, with tawny eyes and tawny manes, with teeth and claws for thy weapons, thou hadst taken the life of the chief of the Asuras. Salutations to thee in thy form of swelling might! Neither the gods, nor the Gandharvas, nor the Daityas, nor the Danavas, know thee truly. Salutations to thy form of exceeding subtility! Assuming the form of the handsome, illustrious, and puissant Ananta in the nether region, thou upholdest the world. Salutations to thy form of Might! Thou stupefiest all creatures by the bonds of affection and love for the continuance of the creation. Salutations to thee in thy form of stupefaction.[152] Regarding that knowledge which is conversant with the five elements to be the true Self-knowledge (for which yogins strive), people approach thee by knowledge! Salutations to thee in thy form of Knowledge! Thy body is immeasurable. Thy understanding and eyes are devoted to everything. Thou art infinite, being beyond all measures. Salutations to thee in thy form of vastness! Thou hadst assumed the form of a recluse with matted locks on head, staff in hand, a long stomach, and having thy begging bowl for thy quiver. Salutations to thee in thy form of Brahma.[153] Thou bearest the trident, thou art the lord of the celestials, thou hast three eyes, and thou art high-souled. Thy body is always besmeared with ashes, and thy phallic emblem is always turned upwards. Salutations to thee in thy form of Rudra! The half-moon forms the ornament of thy forehead. Thou hast snakes for the holy thread circling thy neck. Thou art armed with Pinaka and trident. Salutations to thy form of Fierceness! Thou art the soul of all creatures. Thou art the Creator and the Destroyer of all creatures. Thou art without wrath, without enmity, without affection. Salutations to thee in thy form of Peace! Everything is in thee. Everything is from thee. Thyself art Everything. Everywhere art thou. Thou art always the All. Salutations to thee in thy form as Everything! Salutations to thee whose work is the universe, to thee that art the soul of the universe, to thee from whom hath sprung the universe, to thee that art the dissolution of all things, to thee that are beyond the five (elements that constitute all things)! Salutations to thee that art the three worlds, to thee that art above the three worlds! Salutations to thee that art all the directions! Thou art all and thou art the one receptacle of All. Salutations to thee, O divine Lord, O Vishnu, and O eternal origin of all the worlds! Thou, O Hrishikesa, art the Creator, thou art the Destroyer, and thou art invincible. I cannot behold that heavenly form in which thou art displayed in the Past, Present, and the Future. I can, however, behold truly thy eternal form (as manifest in thy works). Thou hast filled heaven with thy head, and the earth with thy feet: with thy prowess thou hast filled the three worlds. Thou art Eternal and thou pervadest everything in the universe. The directions are thy arms, the Sun is thy eye, and prowess is thy vital fluid. Thou art the lord of all creatures. Thou standest, shutting up the seven paths of the Wind whose energy is immeasurable. They are freed from all fears that worship thee, O Govinda of unfading prowess, thee that art attired in yellow robes of the colour of the Atasi flower.[154] Even one bending of the head unto thee, O Krishna, is equal to the completion of ten Horse-sacrifices. The man that has performed ten Horse-sacrifices is not freed from the obligation of rebirth. The man, however, that bows to Krishna escapes rebirth. They that have Krishna for their vow, they that think of Krishna in the night, and upon rising from sleep, may be said to have Krishna for their body. Those people (after death) enter Krishna's self even as libations of clarified butter sanctified with mantras enter the blazing fire. Salutations to thee that dispellest the fear of hell, to thee, O Vishnu, that art a boat unto them that are plunged amid the eddies of the ocean represented by worldly life! Salutations to thee, O God, that art the Brahmana's self, to thee that art the benefactor of Brahmanas and kine, to thee that art the benefactor of the universe, to thee that art Krishna and Govinda! The two syllables Hari constitute the pecuniary stock of those that sojourn through the wilderness of life and the medicine that effectually cures all worldly predilections, besides being the means that alleviate sorrow and grief.[155] As truth is full of Vishnu, as the universe is full of Vishnu, as everything is full of Vishnu, so let my soul be full of Vishnu and my sins be destroyed! I seek thy protection and am devoted to thee, desirous of obtaining a happy end. O thou of eyes like lotus petals, O best of gods, do thou think of what will be for my good! Thyself without origin, O Vishnu, thou art the origin of Knowledge and Penances. Thus art thou praised! O Janardana, thus worshipped by me in the Sacrifice constituted by speech (alone), be, O god, gratified with me! The Vedas are devoted to Narayana. Penances are devoted to Narayana. The gods are devoted to Narayana. Everything is always Narayana!'" "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having uttered these words, Bhishma, with mind concentrated upon Krishna, said, "Salutations to Krishna!" and bowed unto him. Learning by his Yoga prowess of the devotion of Bhishma, Madhava, otherwise called Hari, (entering his body) bestowed upon him heavenly knowledge compassing the Past, the Present, and the Future, and went away. When Bhishma became silent, those utterers of Brahma (that sat around him), with voices choked in tears, adored that high-souled chief of the Kurus in excellent words. Those foremost of Brahmanas uttered the praises of Krishna also, that first of Beings, and then continued in soft voices to commend Bhishma repeatedly. Learning (by his Yoga powers) of the devotion of Bhishma towards him, that foremost of Beings, viz., Madhava, suddenly rose from his seat and ascended on his car, Kesava and Satyaki proceeded on one car. On another proceeded those two illustrious princes, viz., Yudhishthira and Dhananjaya. Bhimasena and the twins rode on a third; while those bulls among men, Kripa and Yuyutsu, and that scorcher of foes, Sanjaya of the Suta caste, proceeded on their respective cars, each of which looked like a town. And all of them proceeded, causing the earth to tremble with the rattle of their chariot-wheels. That foremost of men, as he proceeded, cheerfully listened to the speeches, fraught with his praise, that were uttered by the Brahmanas. The slayer of Kesi, with gladdened heart, saluted the people that waited (along the streets) with joined hands and bent heads.'" SECTION XLIX "Vaisampayana said, 'Then Hrishikesa and king Yudhishthira, and all those persons headed by Kripa, and the four Pandavas, riding on those cars looking like fortified cities and decked with standards and banners, speedily proceeded to Kurukshetra with the aid of their fleet steeds. They descended on that field which was covered with hair and marrow and bones and where millions of high-souled Kshatriyas had cast away their bodies. It abounded also with many a hill formed of the bodies and bones of elephants and steeds, and human heads and skulls lay stretched over it like conch-shells. Variegated with thousands of funeral pyres and teeming with heaps of armour and weapons, the vast plain looked like the drinking garden of the Destroyer himself used and abandoned recently. The mighty car-warriors quickly proceeded, viewing the field of battle haunted by crowds of spirits and thronged with Rakshasas. While proceeding, the mighty-armed Kesava, that delighter of all the Yadavas, spoke unto Yudhishthira about the prowess of Jamadagni's son, "Yonder, at a distance, O Partha, are seen the five lakes of Rama! There Rama offered oblations of Kshatriya blood unto the manes of his ancestors. It was hither that the puissant Rama, having freed the earth of Kshatriya for thrice seven times, gave up his task."' "'Yudhishthira said,--"I have great doubts in what thou sayest about Rama's having thrice seven times exterminated the Kshatriyas in days of old. When the very Kshatriya seed was burnt by Rama, O bull among the Yadus, how was the Kshatriya order revived, O thou of immeasurable prowess? How, O bull of the Yadus, was the Kshatriya order exterminated by the illustrious and high-souled Rama, and how did it again grow? In frightful car-encounters millions of Kshatriyas were slain. The earth, O foremost of eloquent men, was strewn with the corpses of Kshatriyas. For what reason was the Kshatriya order thus exterminated in days of yore by Rama, the high-souled descendant of Bhrigu, O tiger among the Yadus? O thou of Vrishni's race, remove this doubt of mine, O bird-bannered hero! O Krishna, O younger brother of Baladeva, the highest knowledge is from thee."' "Vaisampayana said,--'The puissant elder brother of Gada then narrated unto Yudhishthira of incomparable prowess everything that happened, in full detail, as to how the earth had become filled with Kshatriyas.'" SECTION L "'Vasudeva said, "Listen, O son of Kunti, to the story of Rama's energy and powers and birth as heard by me from great Rishis discoursing upon the subject. Listen to the story of how millions of Kshatriyas were slain by Jamadagni's son and how those that sprung again in the diverse royal races in Bharata were again slaughtered. Jadu had a son named Rajas. Rajas had a son named Valakaswa. King Valakaswa had a son named Kusika of righteous behaviour. Resembling the thousand-eyed Indra on earth, Kusika underwent the austerest of penances from desire of attaining the chief of the three worlds for a son. Beholding him engaged in the austerest of penances and competent to beget a son, the thousand-eyed Purandara himself inspired the king (with his force). The great lord of the three worlds, the chastiser of Paka, O king, then became Kusika's son known by the name of Gadhi. Gadhi had a daughter, O monarch, of the name of Satyavati. The puissant Gadhi gave her (for wife) unto Richika, a descendant of Bhrigu. Her lord of Bhrigu's race, O delighter of the Kurus, became highly gratified with her for the purity of her behaviour. He cooked the sacrificial food consisting of milk and rice for giving unto Gadhi (her sire) a son. Calling his wife, Richika of Bhrigu's race said, 'This portion of the sanctified food should be taken by thee, and this (other) portion by thy mother. A son will be born of her that will blaze with energy and be a bull among Kshatriyas. Invincible by Kshatriyas on earth, he will be the slayer of the foremost of Kshatriyas. As regards thee, O blessed lady, this portion of the food will give thee a son of great wisdom, an embodiment of tranquillity, endued with ascetic penances, and the foremost of Brahmanas.' Having said these words unto his wife, the blessed Richika of Bhrigu's race, setting his heart on penances, proceeded to the woods. About this time, king Gadhi, resolved upon a pilgrimage to the holy waters, arrived with his queen at the retreat of Richika. Satyavati, upon this, O king, taking the two portions of the sanctified food, cheerfully and in great haste, represented the words of her lord unto her mother. The queen-mother, O son of Kunti, gave the portion intended for herself unto her daughter, and herself took from ignorance the portion intended for the latter. Upon this, Satyavati, her body blazing with lustre, conceived a child of terrible form intended to become the exterminator of the Kshatriyas. Beholding a Brahmana child lying within her womb, that tiger among the Bhrigus said unto his wife of celestial beauty these words: 'Thou hast been deceived by thy mother, O blessed lady, in consequence of the substitution of the sanctified morsels. Thy son will become a person of cruel deeds and vindictive heart. Thy brother again (born of thy mother) will be a Brahmana devoted to ascetic penances. Into the sanctified food intended for thee had been placed the seed of the supreme and universal Brahma, while into that intended for thy mother had been placed the sum total of Kshatriya energy. In consequence, however, of the substitution of the two portions, O blessed lady, that which had been intended will not happen. Thy mother will obtain a Brahmana child while thou wilt obtain a son that will become a Kshatriya.' Thus addressed by her lord, the highly blessed Satyavati prostrated herself and placing her head at his feet, trembling, said, 'It behoveth thee not, O holy one, to speak such words unto me, viz., "Thou shalt obtain a wretch among Brahmanas (for thy son)."' "'"Richika said, 'This was not intended by me, O blessed lady, in respect of thee. A son of fierce deeds has been conceived by thee simply in consequence of the substitution of the sanctified morsels.' "'"Satyavati replied saying, 'If thou wishest, O sage, thou canst create other worlds, what need then be said of a child? It behoveth thee, O puissant one, to give me a son that shall be righteous and devoted to peace.' "'"Richika said, 'Never was falsehood spoken by me before, O blessed lady, even in jest. What need then be said of (such a solemn occasion as) preparing sanctified food with the aid of Vedic formulae after igniting the fire? It was ordained of yore by Destiny, O amiable one! I have ascertained it all by my penances. All the descendants of thy father will be possessed of Brahmanic virtues.' "'"Satyavati said, 'O puissant one, let our grandson be such, but, O foremost of ascetics, let me have a son of tranquil pursuits.' "'"Richika said, 'O thou of the fairest complexion, there is no distinction, I conceive, between a son and a grandson. It will be, O amiable one, as thou sayest.'" "'Vasudeva continued, "Then Satyavati brought forth a son in Bhrigu's race who was devoted to penances and characterised by tranquil pursuits, viz., Jamadagni of regulated vows. Kusika's son Gadhi begot a son named Viswamitra. Possessed of every attribute of a Brahmana, that son (though born in the Kshatriya order) was equal to a Brahmana. Richika (thus) begot Jamadagni, that ocean of penances. Jamadagni begot a son of fierce deeds. The foremost of men, that son mastered the sciences, including the science of arms. Like unto a blazing fire, that son was Rama, the exterminator of the Kshatriyas. Having gratified Mahadeva on the mountains of Gandhamadana, he begged weapons of that great god, especially the axe of fierce energy in his hands. In consequence of that unrivalled axe of fiery splendour and irresistible sharpness, he became unrivalled on earth. Meanwhile the mighty son of Kritavirya, viz., Arjuna of the Kshatriya order and ruler of the Haihayas, endued with great energy, highly virtuous in behaviour, and possessed of a thousand arms through the grace of (the great Rishi) Dattatreya, having subjugated in battle, by the might of his own arms, the whole earth with her mountains and seven islands, became a very powerful emperor and (at last) gave away the earth unto the Brahmanas in a horse-sacrifice. On a certain occasion, solicited by the thirsty god of fire, O son of Kunti, the thousand-armed monarch of great prowess gave alms unto that deity. Springing from the point of his shafts, the god of fire, possessed of great energy, desirous of consuming (what was offered), burnt villages and towns and kingdoms and hamlets of cowherds. Through the prowess of that foremost of men, viz., Kritavirya of great energy, the god of fire burnt mountains and great forests. Assisted by the king of the Haihayas, the god of fire, caused by the wind to blaze forth with energy consumed the uninhabited but delightful retreat of the high-souled Apava. Possessed of great energy, Apava, O mighty-armed king, seeing his retreat consumed by the powerful Kshatriya, cursed that monarch in wrath, saying, 'Since, O Arjuna, without excepting these my specious woods, thou hast burnt them, therefore, Rama (of Bhrigu's race) will lop off thy (thousand) arms.' The mighty Arjuna, however, of great prowess, always devoted to peace, ever regardful of Brahmanas and disposed to grant protection (unto all classes), and charitable and brave, O Bharata, did not think of that curse denounced on him by that high-souled Rishi. His powerful sons, always haughty and cruel, in consequence of that curse, became the indirect cause of his death. The princes, O bull of Bharata's race, seized and brought away the calf of Jamadagni's homa cow, without the knowledge of Kritavirya, the ruler of the Haihayas. For this reason a dispute took place between the high-souled Jamadagni (and the Haihayas). The puissant Rama, the son of Jamadagni, filled with wrath, lopped off the arms of Arjuna and brought back, O monarch, his sire's calf which was wandering within the inner enclosures of the king's palace. Then the foolish son of Arjuna, repairing together to the retreat of the high-souled Jamadagni, felled with the points of their lances, O king, the head of the Rishi from off his trunk while the celebrated Rama was out for fetching sacred fuel and grass. Inflamed with wrath at the death of his father and inspired with vengeance, Rama vowed to free the earth of Kshatriyas and took up arms. Then that tiger among the Bhrigus, possessed of great energy, putting forth his prowess, speedily slaughtered all the sons and grandsons of Kritavirya. Slaughtering thousands of Haihayas in rage, the descendent of Bhrigu, O king, made the earth miry with blood. Possessed of great energy, he quickly reft the earth of all Kshatriyas. Filled then with compassion, he retired into the woods. Afterwards, when some thousands of years had passed away, the puissant Rama, who was wrathful by nature, had imputations cast upon him (of cowardice). The grandson of Viswamitra and son of Raivya, possessed of great ascetic merit, named Paravasu, O monarch, began to cast imputations on Rama in public, saying, 'O Rama, were not those righteous men, viz., Pratardana and others, who were assembled at a sacrifice at the time of Yayati's fall, Kshatriyas by birth? Thou art not of true vows, O Rama! Thine is an empty boast among people. Through fear of Kshatriya heroes thou hast betaken thyself to the mountains.' The descendant of Bhrigu, hearing these words of Paravasu, once more took up arms and once more strewed the earth with hundreds of Kshatriya bodies. Those Kshatriyas, however, O king, counting by hundreds, that were spared by Rama, multiplied (in time) and became mighty monarchs on earth. Rama once more slaughtered them quickly, not sparing the very children, O king! Indeed, the earth became once more strewn with the bodies of Kshatriya children of premature birth. As soon as Kshatriya children were born, Rama slaughtered them. Some Kshatriya ladies, however, succeeded in protecting their children (from Rama's wrath). Having made the earth destitute of Kshatriyas for thrice seven times, the puissant Bhargava, at the completion of a horse-sacrifice, gave away the earth as sacrificial present unto Kasyapa. For preserving the remnant of the Kshatriyas, Kasyapa, O king, pointing with his hand that still held the sacrificial ladle, said these words, 'O great sage, repair to the shores of the southern ocean. It behoveth thee not, O Rama, to reside within (what is) my dominion.' At these words, Ocean suddenly created for Jamadagni's son, on his other shore, a region called Surparaka. Kasyapa also, O monarch, having accepted the earth in gift, and made a present of it unto the Brahmanas, entered the great forest. Then Sudras and Vaisyas, acting most wilfully, began to unite themselves, O bull of Bharata's race, with the wives of Brahmanas. When anarchy sets in on earth, the weak are oppressed by the strong, and no man is master of his own property. Unprotected duly by Kshatriyas observant of virtue, and oppressed by the wicked in consequence of that disorder, the earth quickly sank to the lowest depths. Beholding the earth sinking from fear, the high-souled Kasyapa held her on his lap; and since the great Rishi held her on his lap (uru) therefore is the earth known by the name of Urvi. The goddess earth, for protection's sake, gratified Kasyapa and begged of him a king. "'"The Earth said, 'There are, O regenerate one, some foremost of Kshatriyas concealed by me among women. They were born in the race of Haihayas. Let them, O sage, protect me. There is another person of Puru's race, viz., Viduratha's son, O puissant one, who has been brought up among bears in the Rikshavat mountains. Another, viz., the son of Saudasa, has been protected, through compassion, by Parasara of immeasurable energy and ever engaged in sacrifices. Though born in one of the regenerate orders, yet like a Sudra he does everything for that Rishi and has, therefore, been named Sarvakarman (servant of all work). Sivi's son of great energy, viz., Gopati by name, has been brought up in the forest among kine. Let him, O sage, protect me. Pratardana's son, named Vatsa of great might, has been brought up among calves in a cowpen. Let that one of the royal order protect me. Dadhivahana's grandson and Diviratha's son was concealed and protected on the banks of Ganga by the sage Gautama. His name is Vrihadratha. Possessed of great energy and adorned with numerous blessed qualities, that blessed prince has been protected by wolves and the mountains of Gridhrakuta. Many Kshatriyas belonging to the race of Maratta have been protected. Equal unto the lord of Maruts in energy, they have been brought up by Ocean. These children of the Kshatriya order have been heard of as existing in different places. They are living among artisans and goldsmiths. If they protect me I shall then stay unmoved. Their sires and grandsires have been slain for my sake by Rama of great prowess. It is my duty, O great sage, to see that their funeral rites are duly performed. I do not desire that I should be protected by my present rulers. Do thou, O sage, speedily make such arrangements that I may exist (as before).'" "'Vasudeva continued, "The sage Kasyapa then, seeking out those Kshatriyas of great energy whom the goddess had indicated, installed them duly as kings (for protecting her). Those Kshatriya races that are now extant are the progeny of those princes. That which thou hast questioned me, O son of Panda, happened in days of yore even thus."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Conversing thus with Yudhishthira, that foremost of righteous persons, the high-souled Yadava hero proceeded quickly on that car, illumining all the points of the compass like the divine Surya himself.'" SECTION LI "Vaisampayana said, 'King Yudhishthira, hearing of those feats of Rama, became filled with wonder and said unto Janardana, "O thou of Vrishni's race, the prowess of the high-souled Rama, who in wrath had freed the earth of Kshatriyas, was like that of Sakra himself. The scions of Kshatriyas, troubled with the fear of Rama, were concealed (and brought up) by kine, Ocean, leopards, bears and apes. Worthy of every praise is this world of men and fortunate are they that reside in it where a feat, that was again so righteous, was accomplished by a Brahmana." After this discourse was ended, those two illustrious persons, viz., Krishna of unfading glory and Yudhishthira proceeded thither where the puissant son of Ganga lay on his bed of arrows. They then beheld Bhishma stretched on his arrowy bed and resembling in splendour the evening Sun covered with his own rays. The Kuru hero was surrounded by many ascetics like he of a hundred sacrifices by the deities of heaven. The spot on which he lay was highly sacred, being situate on the banks of the river Oghavati. Beholding him from a distance, Krishna and Dharma's royal son, and the four Pandavas, and the other headed by Saradwat, alighted from their vehicles and collecting their restless minds and concentrating all their senses, approached the great Rishis. Saluting those foremost of Rishis headed by Vyasa, Govinda and Satyaki and the others approached the son of Ganga. Beholding Ganga's son of great ascetic merit, the Yadu and Kuru princes, those foremost of men, took their seats, surrounding him. Seeing Bhishma looking like a fire about to die out, Kesava with a rather cheerless heart addressed him as follows. "'Kesava said, "Are thy perceptions now as clear as before? I hope thy understanding, O foremost of eloquent men, is not clouded. I hope thy limbs are not tortured by the pain arising from the wounds by shafts. From mental grief also the body becomes weak. In consequences of the boon granted to thee by thy sire, the righteous Santanu, thy death, O puissant hero, depends on thy own will. I myself have not that merit in consequence of which thou hast obtained this boon. The minutest pin (inserted) within the body produces pain. What need then be said, O king, of hundreds of arrows that have pierced thee? Surely, pain cannot be said to afflict thee. Thou art competent, O Bharata, to instruct the very gods regarding the origin and dissolution of living creatures. Possessed of great knowledge, everything belonging to the Past, the Future, and the Present, is well known to thee. The dissolution of created beings and the reward of righteousness are well known to thee, O thou of great wisdom, for thou art an ocean of virtue and duty. While living in the enjoyment of swelling sovereignty, I beheld thee forgo female intercourse though sound of limbs and perfectly hale and though surrounded by female companions. Except Santanu's son Bhishma of great energy and firmly devoted to righteousness, possessed of heroism and having virtue for the only object of his pursuit, we have never heard of any other person in the three worlds that could, by his ascetic power, though lying on a bed of arrows and at the point of death, still have such a complete mastery over death (as to keep it thus at bay). We have never heard of anybody else that was so devoted to truth, to penances, to gifts, to the performances of sacrifices, to the science of arms, to the Vedas, and to the protection of persons soliciting protection, and that was so harmless to all creatures, so pure in behaviour, so self-restrained, and so bent upon the good of all creatures, and that was also so great a car-warrior as thee. Without doubt, thou art competent to subjugate, on a single car, the gods, Gandharvas, Asuras, Yakshas, and Rakshasas. O mighty-armed Bhishma, thou art always spoken of by the Brahmanas as the ninth of the Vasus. By thy virtues, however, thou hast surpassed them all and art equal unto Vasava himself. I know, O best of persons, that thou art celebrated for thy prowess, O foremost of beings, among even the very gods. Among men on earth, O foremost of men, we have never seen nor heard of any one possessed of such attributes as thee. O thou of the royal order, thou surpassest the gods themselves in respect of every attribute. By thy ascetic power thou canst create a universe of mobile and immobile creatures. What need then be said of thy having acquired many blessed regions by means of thy foremost of virtues? Dispel now the grief of the eldest son of Panda who is burning with sorrow on account of the slaughter of his kinsmen. All the duties that have been declared in respect of the four orders about the four modes of life are well known to thee. Everything again that is indicated in the four branches of knowledge, in the four Hotras, O Bharata, as also those eternal duties that are laid down in Yoga and Sankhya philosophy, the duties too of the four orders and these duties that are not inconsistent with their declared practices,--all these, along with their interpretations, O son of Ganga, are known to thee. The duties that have been laid down for those sprang from an intermixture of the four orders and those laid down for particular countries and tribes and families, and those declared by the Vedas and by men of wisdom, are all well known to thee. The subjects of histories and the Puranas are all known to thee. All the scriptures treating of duty and practice dwell in thy mind. Save thee, O bull among men, there is no other person that can remove the doubts that may arise in respect of those subjects of knowledge that are studied in the world. With the aid of thy intelligence, do thou, O prince of men, drive the sorrow felt by the son of Pandu. Persons possessed of so great and such varied knowledge live only for comforting men whose minds have been stupefied."' "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing those words of Vasudeva of great intelligence, Bhishma, raising his head a little, said these words with joined hands.' "'Bhishma said, "Salutations to thee, O divine Krishna! Thou art the origin and thou art the dissolution of all the worlds. Thou art the Creator and thou art the Destroyer. Thou, O Hrishikesa, art incapable of being vanquished by any one. The universe is thy handiwork. Thou art the soul of the universe and the universe hath sprung from thee. Salutations to thee! Thou art the end of all created things. Thou art above the five elements. Salutations to thee that art the three worlds and that art again above the three worlds. O lord of Yogins, salutations to thee that art the refuge of everything. O foremost of beings, those words which thou hast said regarding me have enabled me to behold thy divine attributes as manifest in the three worlds. (In consequence of that kindness), O Govinda, I also behold thy eternal form. Thou standest shutting up the seven paths of the Wind possessed of immeasurable energy. The firmament is occupied by thy head, and the earth by thy feet. The points of the compass are thy two arms, and the Sun is thy eye, and Sakra constitutes thy prowess. O thou of unfading glory, thy Person, attired in yellow robes that resemble the hue of the Atasi flower, seem to us to be like a cloud charged with flashing of lightning. Think of that, O best of gods, which would be good, O thou of lotus eyes, for my humble self, that am devoted to thee, that seek thy protection, and that am desirous of obtaining a blissful end." "'Vasudeva said, "Since, O bull among men, thy devotion to me is very great, for this, O prince, I have displayed my celestial form to thee. I do not, O foremost of kings, display myself unto one that is not devoted to me, or unto a devotee that is not sincere, or unto one, O Bharata, that is not of restrained soul. Thou art devoted to me and art always observant of righteousness. Of a pure heart, thou art always self-restrained and ever observant of penances and gifts. Through thy own penances, O Bhishma, thou art competent to behold me. Those regions, O king, are ready for thee whence there is no return.[156] Six and fifty days, O foremost one of Kuru's race, still remain for thee to live! Casting off thy body, thou shalt then, O Bhishma, obtain the blessed reward of thy acts. Behold, those deities and the Vasus, all endued with forms of fiery splendour, riding on their cars, are waiting for thee invisibly till the moment of the sun's entering on northerly course. Subject to universal time, when the divine Surya turns to his northerly course, thou, O foremost of men, shalt go to those regions whence no man of knowledge ever returns to this earth! When thou, O Bhishma, wilt leave this world for that, all Knowledge, O hero, will expire with thee. It is for this, that all these persons, assembled together, have approached thee for listening to discourses on duty and morality. Do thou then speak words of truth, fraught with morality and Yoga, unto Yudhishthira who as firm in truth but whose learning has been clouded by grief on account of the slaughter of his kinsmen, and do thou, by this, quickly dispel that grief of his!"'" SECTION LII "Vaisampayana said, 'Hearing these words of Krishna fraught with Morality and profit, Santanu's Bhishma, answered him in the following words. "'Bhishma said, "O master of all the worlds, O mighty-armed one, O Siva, O Narayana, O thou of unfading glory, hearing the words spoken by thee I have been filled with joy. But what words (of instruction), O master of speech, can I say in thy presence, when especially in all the subjects of speech have been dealt with in thy speech?[157] Whatever in either world should be done or is done, proceeds from thy intelligent self, O god! That person who is competent to discourse on the subject of heaven in the presence of the chief of the gods himself is competent to discourse on the interpretation of morality and pleasure and profit and salvation in thy presence. My mind, O slayer of Madhu, is exceedingly agitated by the pain of arrow-wounds. My limbs are weak. My understanding is not clear. I am so afflicted, O Govinda, by these shafts resembling poison or fire that I have not power to utter anything. My strength is abandoning me. My life-breaths are hastening to leave me. The very vitals of my body are burning. My understanding is clouded. From weakness my utterance is becoming indistinct. How then can I venture to speak? O enhancer of (the glory of) Dasarha's race, be gratified with me. O mighty-armed one, I will not say anything. Pardon me (for my unwillingness). The very master of speech (Vrihaspati), in speaking in thy presence, will be overcome by hesitation. I cannot any longer distinguish the points of the compass, nor the sky from the earth! Through thy energy, O slayer of Madhu, I am only barely alive. Do thou, therefore, thyself speak for the good of king Yudhishthira the just, for thou art the ordainer of all the ordinances. How, O Krishna, when thou, the eternal creator of the universe, art present, can one like me speak (on such subjects) like a disciple in the presence of the preceptor?" "'Vasudeva said, "The words spoken by thee are worthy of thee that art the foremost one of Kuru's race, thee that art endued with great energy, thee that art of great soul, and thee that art possessed of great patience and conversant with every subject. Regarding what thou hast said unto me about the pain of thy arrow-wounds, receive, O Bhishma, this boon that I grant thee, O puissant one, from my grace. Discomfort and stupefaction and burning and pain and hunger and thirst shall not, O son of Ganga, overcome thee, O thou of unfading glory! Thy perceptions and memory, O sinless one, shall be unclouded.[158] Thy understanding shall not fail thee. Thy mind, O Bhishma, freed from the qualities of passion and darkness, will always be subject to the quality of goodness, like the moon emerged from the clouds. Thy understanding will penetrate whatever subject connected with duty, morality, or profit, thou wilt think upon. O tiger among kings, obtaining celestial vision, thou wilt, O thou of immeasurable prowess, succeed in beholding the four orders of created things. Endued with the eye of knowledge, thou wilt, O Bhishma, behold, like fishes in a limpid stream, all created things that thou mayst endeavour to recollect!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Then those great Rishis, with Vyasa amongst them, adored Krishna with hymns from the Richs, the Yajuses, and the Samans. A celestial shower of flowers belonging to every season fell on that spot where he of Vrishni's race, with Ganga's son and the son of Pandu were. Celestial instruments of every kind played in the welkin and the tribes of Apsaras began to sing. Nothing of evil and no portent of any evil kind were seen there. An auspicious, pleasant, and pure breeze, bearing every kind of fragrance, began to blow. All the points of the compass became clear and quiet, and all the animals and birds began to rove in peace. Soon after, like a fire at the extremity of a great forest, the divine Surya of a thousand rays was seen to descend to the west. The great Rishis then, rising up, saluted Janardana and Bhishma and king Yudhishthira. Upon this, Kesava, and the sons of Pandu, and Satyaki, and Sanjaya, and Saradwata's son Kripa, bowed in reverence to those sages. Devoted to the practice of righteousness, those sages, thus worshipped by Kesava and others, speedily proceeded to their respective abodes, saying, "We will return tomorrow." After this, Kesava and the Pandavas, saluting Bhishma and circumambulating him, ascended their handsome cars. Those heroes then proceeded, accompanied by many other cars decked with golden Kuvaras, and infuriated elephants looking like mountains and steeds fleet as Garudas, and foot-soldiers armed with bows and weapons. That army, moving with great speed, proceeded in two divisions, one in the van and the other in the rear of those princes. The scene resembled the two currents of the great river Narmada at the point where it is divided by the Rikshavat mountains standing across it. Gladdening that great host, the divine Chandramas rose before it in the firmament, once more inspiring with moisture, by his own force, the terrestrial herbs and plants whose juice had been sucked up by the Sun. Then that bull of Yadu's race and the sons of Pandu, entering the (Kuru) city whose splendour resembled that of the city of Indra itself, proceeded to their respective mansions like tired lions seeking their caves.'" SECTION LIII "Vaisampayana said, 'The slayer of Madhu, retiring to his bed, slept happily. Awaking when half a Yama was wanting to usher in the day, he addressed himself to contemplation. Fixing all his senses, he meditated on the eternal Brahma. Then a batch of well-trained and sweet-voiced persons, conversant with hymns and the Puranas, began to utter the praises of Vasudeva, that lord of all creatures and creator of the universe. Others, marking time by clapping of hands, began to recite sweet hymns, and vocalists began to sing. Conch-shells and drums were blown and beaten by thousands. The delightful sound of Vinas, Panavas, and bamboo flutes was heard. The spacious mansion of Krishna, in consequence thereof, seemed to laugh with music. In the palace of king Yudhishthira also sweet voices were heard, uttering auspicious wishes, and the sound of songs too and musical instruments. Then he of Dasarha's race performed his ablutions. Joining his hands, the mighty-armed hero of unfading glory silently recited his secret mantras, and kindling a fire poured libations of clarified butter upon it. Giving away a thousand kine unto a thousand Brahmanas all of whom were fully conversant with the four Vedas, he caused them to utter benedictions upon him. Touching next diverse kinds of auspicious articles and beholding himself in a clear mirror, Krishna addressed Satyaki, saying, "Go, O descendant of Sini, and repairing to Yudhishthira's abode, ascertain whether that king of great energy is dressed for visiting Bhishma." At these words of Krishna, Satyaki, proceeding quickly to the royal son of Pandu, said unto him, "The foremost of cars, belonging to Vasudeva of great intelligence, stands ready, O king, for Janardana will go to see Ganga's son. O righteous king of great splendour, he is waiting for thee. It behoveth thee now to do what should be done next." Thus addressed, Dharma's son Yudhishthira answered as follows.' "'Yudhishthira said, "O Phalguna of unrivalled splendour, let my foremost of cars be made ready. We should not be accompanied (today) by the soldiers, but we shall proceed ourselves. That foremost of righteous persons, Bhishma, should not be vexed. Let the guards, therefore, O Dhananjaya, stop today. From this day Ganga's son will speak of things that are great mysteries. I do not therefore, O son of Kunti, wish that there should be a miscellaneous gathering (in Bhishma's presence)."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of the king, Kunti's son Dhananjaya, that foremost of men (went out and coming back) represented unto him that his best of cars stood harnessed for him. King Yudhishthira, and the twins, and Bhima and Arjuna, the five resembling the five elements, then proceeded towards Krishna's abode. While the high-souled Pandavas were coming, Krishna of great intelligence, accompanied by the grandson of Sini, mounted on his car. Saluting one another from their cars and each enquiring of the other whether the night had been passed happily by him, those bulls among men proceeded, without stopping on those foremost of cars whose rattle resembled the roar of the clouds. Krishna's steeds, viz., Valahaka and Meghapushpa and Saivya and Sugriva were urged by Daruka. The animals, urged by him, O king, proceeded, indenting the earth with their hoofs. Endued with great strength and great speed, they flew onwards, devouring the very skies. Traversing the sacred field of Kuru, the princes proceeded to that spot where the puissant Bhishma on his bed of arrows was lying, surrounded by those great Rishis, like Brahman himself in the midst of the gods. Then Govinda and Yudhishthira and Bhima and the wielder of Gandiva and the twins and Satyaki, alighting from their vehicles, saluted the Rishis by raising their right hands. Surrounded by them, king Yudhishthira like the moon in the midst of the stars approached Ganga's son like Vasava proceeding towards Brahman. Overcome with fear, the king timidly cast his eyes on the mighty-armed hero lying on his bed of arrows like the Sun himself dropped from the firmament.'" SECTION LIV "Janamejaya said, 'When that tiger among men, of righteous soul and great energy, firmly adhering to truth and with passions under complete control, viz., the son of Santanu and Ganga, named Devavrata or Bhishma of unfading glory, lay on a hero's bed with the sons of Pandu sitting around him, tell me, O great sage, what converse ensued in that meeting of heroes after the slaughter of the troops.' "Vaisampayana said, 'When Bhishma that chief of the Kurus, lay on his bed of arrows, many Rishis and Siddhas, O king, headed by Narada, came to that spot. The unslain remnant of the (assembled) kings with Yudhishthira at their head, and Dhritarashtra and Krishna and Bhima and Arjuna and the twins also came there. Those high-souled persons, approaching the grandsire of the Bharatas who looked like the Sun himself dropped from the firmament, indulged in lamentations for him. Then Narada of godlike features reflecting for a short while, addressed all the Pandavas and the unslain remnant of the kings saying, "The time, I think, has come for you to question Bhishma (on subject of morality and religion), for Ganga's son is about to expire like the Sun that is on the point of setting. He is about to cast off his life-breaths. Do you all, therefore, solicit him to discourse to you? He is acquainted with the varied duties of all the four orders. Old in years, after abandoning his body he will obtain high regions of bliss. Solicit him, therefore, without delay, to clear the doubts that exist in your minds." Thus addressed by Narada, those princes approached Bhishma, but unable to ask him anything, looked at one another. Then Yudhishthira the son of Pandu, addressing Hrishikesa said, "There is no one else than Devaki's son that can question the grandsire. O foremost one of Yadu's race, do thou, therefore, O slayer of Madhu, speak first. Thou, O sire, art the foremost of us all and thou art conversant with every duty and practice." Thus addressed by the son of Pandu, the illustrious Kesava of unfading glory, approaching the unconquerable Bhishma, spoke unto him as follows.' "'Vasudeva said, "Hast thou, O best of kings, passed the night happily? Has thy understanding become unclouded? Does thy knowledge, O sinless one, shine in thee by inward light? I hope thy heart no longer feels pain and thy mind is no longer agitated." "'Bhishma said, "Burning, stupefaction, fatigue, exhaustion, illness, and pain, through thy grace, O thou of Vrishni's race, have all left me in a single day. O thou of incomparable splendour, all that is past, all that is future, and all that is present, I behold as clearly as a fruit placed in my hands. All the duties declared in the Vedas, all those laid down in the Vedantas, I behold clearly, O thou of unfading glory, in consequence of the boon thou hast granted to me. The duties that have been declared by persons of learning and righteous behaviour, dwell in my remembrance. I am conversant also, O Janardana, with the duties and practices prevailing in particular countries and among particular tribes and families. Everything relating again to the four modes of life has come back to my recollection. I am acquainted also, O Kesava, with the duties that relate to king-craft. Whatever should at whatever time be said, I would say, O Janardana! Through thy grace, I have acquired an auspicious understanding. Strengthened by meditation on thee, I feel as if I have become a young man again. Through thy favour, O Janardana, I have become competent to discourse on what is beneficial (for the world). Why, however, O holy one, dost thou not thyself discourse to Pandu's son upon all that is good? What explanation hast thou to give in respect of this? Tell me quickly, O Madhava!" "'Vasudeva said, "Know, O thou of Kuru's race, that I am the root of fame and of everything that leads to good. All things, good or bad, proceed from me. Who on earth will wonder if the moon be said to be of cool rays? Similarly, who will wonder if I were described as one possessed of the full measure of fame?[159] I have, however, resolved to enhance thy fame, O thou of great splendour! It is for this, O Bhishma, that I have just inspired thee with great intelligence. As long, O lord of earth, as the earth will last, so long will thy fame travel with undiminished lustre through all the worlds. Whatever, O Bhishma, thou wilt say unto the inquiring son of Pandu, will be regarded on earth to be as authoritative as the declarations of that Vedas. That person who will conduct himself here according to the authority of thy declarations, will obtain hereafter the reward of every meritorious act. For this reason, O Bhishma, I have imparted to thee celestial understanding so that thy fame may be enhanced on earth. As long as a man's fame lasts in the world, so long are his achievements said to live. The unslain remnant of the (assembled) kings are sitting around thee, desirous of listening to thy discourses on morality and duty. Do thou speak unto them, O Bharata! Thou art old in years and thy behaviour is consistent with the ordinance of the Srutis. Thou art well conversant with the duties of kings and with every other science of duty. No one has ever noticed the slightest transgression in thee from thy very birth. All the kings know thee to be conversant with all the sciences of morality and duty. Like a sire unto his sons do thou, therefore, O king, discourse unto them of high morality. Thou hast always worshipped the Rishis and the gods. It is obligatory on thee to discourse on these subjects in detail unto persons desirous of listening to discourse on morality and duty. A learned person, especially when solicited by the righteous, should discourse on the same. The sages have declared this to be a duty. O puissant one, if thou dost not speak on such subjects, thou wilt incur sin. Therefore, questioned by thy sons and grandsons, O learned one, about the eternal duties (of men), do thou, O bull among the Bharatas, discourse upon them on the subject."'" SECTION LV "Vaisampayana said, 'Endued with great energy, the delighter of the Kurus (viz., Bhishma), said, "I shall discourse on the subject of duty. My speech and mind have become steady, through thy grace, O Govinda, since thou art the eternal soul of every being. Let the righteous-souled Yudhishthira question me about morality and duty. I shall then be much gratified and shall speak of all duties. Let the son of Pandu, that royal sage of virtuous and great soul, upon whose birth all the Vrishnis were filled with joy, question me. Let the son of Pandu, who has no equal among all the Kurus, among all persons of righteous behaviour, and among men of great celebrity, put questions to me. Let the son of Pandu, in whom are intelligence, self-restraint, Brahmacharya, forgiveness, righteousness, mental vigour and energy, put questions to me. Let the son of Pandu, who always by his good offices honours his relatives and guests and servants and others that are dependent on him, put questions to me. Let the son of Pandu, in whom are truth and charity and penances, heroism, peacefulness, cleverness, and fearlessness, put questions to me. Let the righteous-souled son of Pandu, who would never commit a sin influenced by desire of Pleasure or Profit or from fear put questions to me. Let the son of Pandu, who is ever devoted to truth, to forgiveness, to knowledge and to guests, and who always makes gifts unto the righteous, put questions to me. Let the son of Pandu, who is ever engaged in sacrifices and study of the Vedas and the practice of morality and duty who is ever peaceful and who has heard all mysteries, put questions to me." "'Vasudeva said, "King Yudhishthira the just, overcome with great shame and fearful of (thy) curse, does not venture to approach thee. That lord of earth, O monarch, having caused a great slaughter, ventures not to approach thee from fear of (thy) curse. Having pierced with shafts those that deserved his worship, those that were devoted to him, those that were his preceptors, those that were his relatives and kinsmen and those that were worthy of his highest regard, he ventures not to approach thee." "'Bhishma said, "As the duty of the Brahmanas consists of the practice of charity, study, and penances, so the duty of Kshatriyas is to cast away their bodies, O Krishna, in battle. A Kshatriya should slay sires and grandsires and brothers and preceptors and relatives and kinsmen that may engage with him in unjust battle. This is their declared duty. That Kshatriya, O Kesava, is said to be acquainted with his duty who slays in battle his very preceptors if they happen to be sinful and covetous and disregardful of restraints and vows. That Kshatriya is said to be acquainted with his duty who slays in battle the person that from covetousness disregards the eternal barriers of virtue.[160] That Kshatriya is said to be acquainted with duty who in battle makes the earth a lake of blood, having the hair of slain warriors for the grass and straw floating on it, and having elephants for its rocks, and standards for the trees on its banks. A Kshatriya, when challenged, should always fight in battle, since Manu has said that a righteous battle (in the case of a Kshatriya) leads to both heaven and fame on earth."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After Bhishma had spoken thus, Dharma's son Yudhishthira, with great humility, approached the Kuru hero and stood in his sight. He seized the feet of Bhishma who in return gladdened him with affectionate words. Smelling his head, Bhishma asked Yudhishthira to take his seat. Then Ganga's son, that foremost of bowmen, addressed Yudhishthira, saying, "Do not fear, O best of the Kurus! Ask me, O child, without any anxiety."'" SECTION LVI "Vaisampayana said, 'Having bowed unto Hrishikesa, and saluted Bhishma, and taken the permission of all the seniors assembled there, Yudhishthira began to put questions unto Bhishma.' "'Yudhishthira said, "Persons conversant with duty and morality say that kingly duties constitute the highest science of duty. I also think that the burden of those duties is exceedingly onerous. Do thou, therefore, O king, discourse on those duties. O grandsire, do thou speak in detail on the duties of kings. The science of kingly duties is the refuge of the whole world of life. O thou of Kuru's race, Morality, Profit, and Pleasure are dependent on kingly duties. It is also clear that the practices that lead to emancipation are equally dependent on them. As the reins are in respect of the steed or the iron hook in respect of the elephant, even so the science of kingly duties constitutes the reins for checking the world. If one becomes stupefied in respect of the duties observed by royal sages, disorder would set in on the earth and everything will become confused. As the Sun, rising, dispels inauspicious darkness, so this science destroys every kind of evil consequence in respect of the world. Therefore, O grandsire, do thou, for my sake, discourse on kingly duties in the first instance, for thou, O chief of the Bharatas, art the foremost of all persons conversant with duties. O scorcher of foes, Vasudeva regards thee as the first of all intelligent persons. Therefore, all of us expect the highest knowledge from thee." "'Bhishma said, "Bowing unto Dharma who is Supreme, unto Krishna who is Brahma in full, and unto the Brahmanas, I shall discourse on the eternal duties (of men). Hear from me, O Yudhishthira, with concentrated attention, the whole range of kingly duties described with accurate details, and other duties that you mayst desire to know. In the first place, O foremost one of Kuru's race, the king should, from desire of pleasing (his subjects), wait with humility upon the gods and the Brahmanas, always bearing himself agreeably to the ordinance. By worshipping the deities and the Brahmanas, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, the king pays off his debt to duty and morality, and receives the respect of his subjects. O son, thou shouldst always exert with promptitude, O Yudhishthira, for without promptitude of exertion mere destiny never accomplishes the objects cherished by kings. These two, viz., exertion and destiny, are equal (in their operation). Of them, I regard exertion to be superior, for destiny is ascertained from the results of what is begun with exertion. Do not indulge in grief if what is commenced ends disastrously, for thou shouldst then exert thyself in the same act with redoubled attention. This is the high duty of kings. There is nothing which contributes so much to the success of kings as Truth. The king who is devoted to Truth finds happiness both here and hereafter. As regards Rishis also, O king, Truth is their great wealth. Similarly, as regards kings, there is nothing that so much inspires confidence in them as Truth. The king that is possessed of every accomplishment and good behaviour, that is self-restrained, humble, and righteous, that has his passions under control, that is of handsome features and not too enquiring,[161] never loses prosperity. By administering justice, by attending to these three, viz., concealment of his own weaknesses, ascertainment of the weaknesses of foes, and keeping his own counsels, as also by the observance of conduct that is straightforward, the king, O delighter of the Kurus, obtains prosperity. If the king becomes mild, everybody disregards him. On the other hand, if he becomes fierce, his subjects then become troubled. "'"Therefore, do thou observe both kinds of behaviour. O foremost of liberal men, the Brahmanas should never be punished by thee, for the Brahmana, O son of Pandu, is the foremost of beings on the Earth. The high-souled Manu, O king of kings, that sung two Slokas, in respect of thy duties, O thou of Kuru's race, thou shouldst always bear them in mind. Fire hath sprung from water, the Kshatriya from the Brahmana, and iron from stone. The three (viz., fire, Kshatriya and iron) can exert their force on every other thing, but coming into contact with their respective progenitors, their force becomes neutralised. When iron strikes stone, or fire battles with water, or Kshatriya cherishes enmity towards Brahmana, these three soon become weak. When this is so, O monarch, (you will see that) the Brahmanas are worthy of worship. They that are foremost among the Brahmanas are gods on earth. Duly worshipped, they uphold the Vedas and the Sacrifices. But they, O tiger among kings, that desire to have such honour however much they may be impediments to the three worlds, should ever be repressed by the might of thy arms. The great Rishi Usanas, O son, sang two Slokas in days of old. Listen to them, O king, with concentrated attention. The righteous Kshatriya, mindful of his duties, should chastise a Brahmana that may be a very master of the Vedas if he rushes to battle with an uplifted weapon. The Kshatriya, conversant with duties, that upholds righteousness when it is trespassed against, does not, by that act, become a sinner, for the wrath of the assailant justifies the wrath of the chastiser. Subject to these restrictions, O tiger among kings, the Brahmanas should be protected. If they become offenders, they should then be exiled beyond thy dominions. Even when deserving of punishment, thou shouldst, O kings, show them compassion. If a Brahmana becomes guilty of Brahmanicide, or of violating the bed of his preceptor or other revered senior, or of causing miscarriage, or of treason against the king, his punishment should be banishment from thy dominions. No corporal chastisement is laid down for them. Those persons that show respect towards the Brahmanas should be favoured by thee (with offices in the state). There is no treasure more valuable to kings than that which consists in the selection and assemblage of servants. Among the six kinds of citadels indicated in the scriptures, indeed among every kind of citadel, that which consists of (the ready service and the love of the) subjects is the most impregnable. Therefore, the king who is possessed of wisdom should always show compassion towards the four orders of his subjects. The king who is of righteous soul and truthful speech succeeds in gratifying his subjects. Thou must not, however, O son always behave with forgiveness towards everybody, for the king that is mild is regarded as the worst of his kind like an elephant that is reft of fierceness. In the scriptures composed by Vrihaspati, a Sloka was in days of old applicable to the present matter. Hear it, O king as I recite it. 'If the king happens to be always forgiving, the lowest of persons prevails over him, even as the driver who sits on the head of the elephant he guides.' The king, therefore, should not always be mild. Nor should he always be fierce. He should be like the vernal Sun, neither cold nor so hot as to produce perspiration. By the direct evidence of the senses, by conjecture, by comparisons, and by the canons of the scriptures. O monarch, the king should study friends and foes. O thou of great liberality, thou shouldst avoid all those evil practices that are called Vyasanas. It is not necessary that thou shouldst never indulge in them. What, however, is needed is that thou shouldst not be attached to them. He that is attached to those practices is prevailed over by everyone. The king who cherishes no love for his people inspires the latter with anxiety. The king should always bear himself towards his subjects as a mother towards the child of her womb. Hear, O monarch, the reason why this becomes desirable. As the mother, disregarding those objects that are most cherished by her, seeks the good of her child alone, even so, without doubt, should kings conduct themselves (towards their subjects). The king that is righteous, O foremost one of Kuru's race, should always behave in such a manner as to uphold what is dear to him, for the sake of doing that which would benefit his people. Thou shouldst not ever, O son of Pandu, abandon fortitude. The king that is possessed of fortitude and who is known to inflict chastisement on wrong-doers, has no cause of fear. O foremost of speakers, thou shouldst not indulge in jests with thy servants. O tiger among kings, listen to the faults of such conduct. If the master mingles too freely with them, dependents begin to disregard him. They forget their own position and most truly transcend that of the master. Ordered to do a thing, they hesitate, and divulge the master's secrets. They ask for things that should not be asked for, and take the food that is intended for the master. They go to the length of displaying their wrath and seek to outshine the master. They even seek to predominate over the king, and accepting bribes and practising deceit, obstruct the business of the state. They cause the state to rot with abuses by falsifications and forgeries. They make love with the female guards of the palace and dress in the same style as their master. They become so shameless as to indulge in eructations and the like, and expectorate in the very presence of their master, O tiger among kings, and they do not fear to even speak of him with levity before others. If the king becomes mild and disposed to jest, his servants, disregarding him, ride on steeds and elephants and cars as good as the king's.[162] His counsellors, assembled in court, openly indulge in such speeches as: 'This is beyond thy power. This is a wicked attempt.' If the king becomes angry, they laugh; nor are they gladdened if favours be bestowed upon them, though they may express joy for other reasons. They disclose the secret counsels of their master and bruit his evil acts. Without the least anxiety they set at naught the king's commands. If the king's jewels, or food, or the necessaries of his bath, or unguents, be not forthcoming, the servants, in his very presence, do not show the least anxiety. They do not take what rightfully belongs to them. On the other hand, without being content with what has been assigned to them, they appropriate what belongs to the king. They wish to sport with the king as with a bird tied with a string. And always give the people to understand that the king is very intimate with them and loves them dearly. If the king becomes mild and disposed to jest, O Yudhishthira, these and many other evils spring from it."'" SECTION LVII "'Bhishma said, "The king, O Yudhishthira, should always be ready for action. That king is not worth of praise who, like a woman, is destitute of exertion. In this connection, the holy Usanas has sung a Sloka, O monarch. Listen to it with attention, O king, as I recite it to thee: 'Like a snake swallowing up mice, the earth swallows up these two, the king that is averse to battle and the Brahmana that is exceedingly attached to wives and children.'[163] It behoveth thee, O tiger among kings, to bear this always in thy heart. Make peace with those foes with whom (according to the ordinance) peace should be made, and wage war with them with whom war should be waged. Be he thy preceptor or be he thy friend, he that acts inimically towards thy kingdom consisting of seven limbs, should be slain.[164] There is an ancient Sloka sung by king Marutta, agreeable to Vrihaspati's opinion, O monarch, about the duty of kings. According to the eternal provision, there is punishment for even the preceptor if he becomes haughty and disregardful of what should be done and what should not, and if he transgresses all restraints. Jadu's son, king Sagara, of great intelligence, from desire of doing good to the citizens, exiled his own eldest son Asamanjas. Asamanjas, O king, used to drown the children of the citizens in the Sarayu. His sire, therefore, rebuked him and sent him to exile. The Rishi Uddalaka cast off his favourite son Swetaketu (afterwards) of rigid penances, because the latter used to invite Brahmanas with deceptive promises of entertainment. The happiness of their subjects, observance of truth, and sincerity of behaviour are the eternal duty of kings. The king should not covet the wealth of others. He should in time give what should be given, If the king becomes possessed of prowess, truthful in speech, and forgiving in temper, he would never fall away from prosperity. With soul cleansed of vices, the king should be able to govern his wrath, and all his conclusions should be conformable to the scriptures. He should also always pursue morality and profit and pleasure and salvation (judiciously). The king should always conceal his counsels in respect of these three, (viz., morality, profit, and pleasure). No greater evil can befall the king than the disclosure of his counsels. Kings should protect the four orders in the discharge of their duties. It is the eternal duty of kings to prevent a confusion of duties in respect of the different orders. The king should not repose confidence (on others than his own servants), nor should he repose full confidence (on even his servants). He should, by his own intelligence, look after the merits and defects of the six essential requisites of sovereignty.[165] The king who is observant of the laches of his foes, and judicious in the pursuit of morality, profit, and pleasure, who sets clever spies for ascertaining secrets and seeks to wean away the officers of his enemies by presents of wealth, deserves applause. The king should administer justice like Yama and amass wealth like Kuvera. He should also be observant of the merits and defects of his own acquisitions and losses and of his own dominions. He should feed those that have not been fed, and enquire after those that have been fed. Possessed of sweet speech, he could speak with a smiling (and not with a sour) countenance. He should always wait upon those that are old in years and repress procrastination. He should never covet what belongs to others. He should firmly follow the behaviour of the righteous and, therefore, observe that behaviour carefully. He should never take wealth from those that are righteous. Taking the wealth of those that are not righteous he should give it unto them that are righteous. The king should himself be skilful in smiting. He should practise liberality. He should have his soul under control. He should dress himself with splendour. He should make gifts in season and regular in his meals. He should also be of good behaviour. The king desirous of obtaining prosperity should always bind to his service men that are brave, devoted, incapable of being deceived by foes,[166] well-born, healthy, well-behaved, and connected with families that are well-behaved, respectable, never inclined to insult others, conversant with all the sciences, possessing a knowledge of the world and its affairs, unmindful of the future state of existence, always observant of their duties, honest, and steadfast like mountains. There should be no difference between him and them as regards objects of enjoyment. The only distinction should consist in his umbrella and his power of passing orders. His conduct towards them, before or behind, should be the same. The king who behaves in this way never comes to grief. That crooked and covetous king who suspects everybody and who taxes his subjects heavily, is soon deprived of life by his own servants and relatives. That king, however, who is of righteous behaviour and who is ever engaged in attracting the hearts of his people, never sinks when attacked by foes. If overcome, he soon regains his position. If the king is not wrathful, if he is not addicted to evil practices and not severe in his punishments, if he succeeds in keeping his passions under control, he then becomes an object of confidence unto all like the Himavat mountains (unto all creatures). He is the best of kings who hath wisdom, who is possessed of liberality, who is ready to take advantage of the laches of foes, who has agreeable features, who is conversant with what is bad for each of the four orders of his subjects, who is prompt in action, who has his wrath under control, who is not vindictive, who is high-minded, who is not irascible by disposition, who is equal engaged in sacrifices and other religious acts, who is not given to boasting, and who vigorously prosecutes to completion all works commenced by him. He is the best of kings in whose dominions men live fearlessly like sons in the house of their sire. He is the best of kings whose subjects have not to hide their wealth and are conversant with what is good and what is bad for them. He, indeed, is a king whose subjects are engaged in their respective duties and do not fear to cast off their bodies when duty calls for it; whose people, protected duly, are all of peaceful behaviour, obedient, docile, tractable, unwilling to be engaged in disputes, and inclined to liberality. That king earns eternal merit in whose dominions there is no wickedness and dissimulation and deception and envy. That king truly deserves to rule who honours knowledge, who is devoted to the scriptures and the good of his people, who treads in the path of the righteous, and who is liberal. That king deserves to rule, whose spies and counsels and acts, accomplished and unaccomplished, remain unknown to his enemies. The following verse was sung in days of old by Usanas of Bhrigu's race, in the narrative called Ramacharita, on the subject, O Bharata, of kingly duties: 'One should first select a king (in whose dominions to live). Then should he select a wife, and then earn wealth. If there be no king, what would become of his wife and acquisition?' Regarding those that are desirous of kingdom, there is no other eternal duty more obligatory than the protection (of subjects). The protection the king grants to his subjects upholds the world.[167] Manu, the son of Prachetas, sang these two verses respecting the duties of kings. Listen to them with attention: 'These six persons should be avoided like a leaky boat on the sea, viz., a preceptor that does not speak, a priest that has not studied the scriptures, a king that does not grant protection, a wife that utters what is disagreeable, a cow-herd that likes to rove within the village, and a barber that is desirous of going to the woods.'"'"[168] SECTION LVIII "'Bhishma said, "Protection of the subject, O Yudhishthira, is the very cheese of kingly duties. The divine Vrihaspati does not applaud any other duty (so much as this one). The divine Kavi (Usanas) of large eyes and austere penances, the thousand-eyed Indra, and Manu the son of Prachetas, the divine Bharadwaja, and the saga Gaurasiras, all devoted to Brahma and utterers of Brahma, have composed treatises on the duties of kings. All of them praise the duty of protection, O foremost of virtuous persons, in respect of kings. O thou of eyes like lotus leaves and of the hue of copper, listen to the means by which protection may be secured. Those means consist of the employment of spies and servants, giving them their just dues without haughtiness, the realisation of taxes with considerateness, never taking anything (from the subject) capriciously and without cause, O Yudhishthira, the selection of honest men (for the discharge of administrative functions), heroism, skill, and cleverness (in the transaction of business), truth, seeking the good of the people, producing discord and disunion among the enemy by fair or unfair means, the repair of buildings that are old or on the point of falling away, the infliction of corporal punishments and fines regulated by observance of the occasion, never abandoning the honest, granting employment and protection to persons of respectable birth, the storing of what should be stored, companionship with persons of intelligence, always gratifying the soldiery, supervision over the subjects, steadiness in the transaction of business, filling the treasury, absence of blind confidence on the guards of the city, producing disloyalty among the citizens of a hostile town, carefully looking after the friends and allies living in the midst of the enemy's country, strictly watching the servants and officers of the state, personal observation of the city, distrust of servants, comforting the enemy with assurances, steadily observing the dictates of policy, readiness for action, never disregarding an enemy, and casting off those that are wicked. Readiness for exertion in kings is the root of kingly duties. This has been said by Vrihaspati. Listen to the verses sung by him: 'By exertion the amrita was obtained; by exertion the Asuras were slain, by exertion Indra himself obtained sovereignty in heaven and on earth. The hero of exertion is superior to the heroes of speech. The heroes of speech gratify and worship the heroes of exertion.[169]' The king that is destitute of exertion, even if possessed of intelligence, is always overcome by foes like a snake that is bereft of poison. The king, even if possessed of strength, should not disregard a foe, however weak. A spark of fire can produce a conflagration and a particle of poison can kill. With only one kind of force, an enemy from within a fort, can afflict the whole country of even a powerful and prosperous king. The secret speeches of a king, the amassing of troops for obtaining victory, the crooked purposes in his heart, similar intents for accomplishing particular objects, and the wrong acts he does or intends to do, should be concealed by putting on an appearance of candour. He should act righteously for keeping his people under subjection. Persons of crooked minds cannot bear the burden of extensive empire. A king who is mild cannot obtain superior rank, the acquisition of which depends upon labour. A kingdom, coveted by all like meat, can never be protected by candour and simplicity. A king, O Yudhishthira, should, therefore, always conduct himself with both candour and crookedness. If in protecting his subjects a king falls into danger, he earns great merit. Even such should be the conduct of kings. I have now told thee a portion only of the duties of kings. Tell me, O best of the Kurus, what more you wish to know."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The illustrious Vyasa and Devasthana and Aswa, and Vasudeva and Kripa and Satyaki and Sanjaya, filled with joy, and with faces resembling full-blown flowers, said, "Excellent! Excellent!" and hymned the praises of that tiger among men, viz., Bhishma, that foremost of virtuous persons. Then Yudhishthira, that chief of Kuru's race, with a cheerless heart and eyes bathed in tears, gently touched Bhishma's feet and said, "O grandsire, I shall to-morrow enquire after those points about which I have my doubts, for today, the sun, having sucked the moisture of all terrestrial objects, is about to set." Then Kesava and Kripa and Yudhishthira and others, saluting the Brahmanas (assembled there) and circumambulating the son of the great river, cheerfully ascended their cars. All of them observant of excellent vows then bathed in the current of the Drishadwati. Having offered oblations of water unto their ancestors and silently recited the sacred mantras and done other auspicious acts, and having performed the evening prayer with due rites, those scorchers of foes entered the city called after the elephant.'" SECTION LIX "Vaisampayana said, 'Rising from their beds the next day and performing the morning rites laid down in the scriptures, the Pandavas and the Yadavas set out (for the spot where Bhishma lay) on their cars resembling fortified towns. Proceeding to the field of Kuru and approaching the sinless Bhishma, they enquired of that foremost of car-warriors if he had passed the night happily. Saluting all the Rishis, and blessed by them in return, the princes took their seats around Bhishma. Then king Yudhishthira the just possessed of great energy, having worshipped Bhishma duly, said these words with joined hands. "'Yudhishthira said, "Whence arose the word Rajan (King), that is used, O Bharata, on earth? Tell me this, O scorcher of foes! Possessed of hands and arms and neck like others, having understanding and senses like those of others, subject like others to the same kinds of joy and grief, endued with back, mouth, and stomach similar to those of the rest of the world, having vital fluids and bones and marrow and flesh and blood similar to those of the rest of the world, inhaling and exhaling breaths like others, possessed of life-breaths and bodies like other men, resembling others in birth and death, in fact, similar to others in respect of all attributes of humanity, for what reason does one man, viz., the king, govern the rest of the world numbering many men possessed of great intelligence and bravery? Whence is it that one man rules the wide world teeming with brave and energetic and high-born men of good behaviour? Why do all men seek to obtain his favour? Why is it that if one man becomes delighted, the whole world becomes delighted, and if that one man is troubled, the whole world becomes troubled? I desire to hear this in detail, O bull of Bharata's race! O foremost of speakers, discourse to me on this fully. O king, there cannot but be a grave reason for all this since it is seen that the whole world bows down to one man as to a god." "'Bhishma said, "With concentrated attention, O tiger among kings, listen to it in detail as to how in the Krita age sovereignty first began. At first there was no sovereignty, no king, no chastisement, and no chastiser. All men used to protect one another righteously. As they thus lived, O Bharata, righteously protecting one another, they found the task (after some time) to be painful. Error then began to assail their hearts. Having become subject to error, the perceptions of men, O prince, came to be clouded, and thence their virtue began to decline. When their perceptions were dimmed and when men became subject to error, all of them became covetous, O chief of the Bharatas! And because men sought to obtain objects, which they did not possess, another passion called lust (of acquisition) got hold of them. When they became subject to lust, another passion, named anger, soon soiled them. Once subject to wrath, they lost all consideration of what should be done and what should not. Unrestrained sexual indulgence set in. Men began to utter what they chose. All distinctions between food that is clean and unclean and between virtue and vice disappeared. When this confusion set in amongst men, the Vedas disappeared. Upon the disappearance of the Vedas, righteousness was lost. When both the Vedas and righteousness were lost, the gods were possessed by fear. Overcome with fear, O tiger among men, they sought the protection of Brahmana. Having gratified the divine Grandsire of the universe, the gods, afflicted with grief, said unto him, with joined hands, 'O god, the eternal Vedas have been afflicted in the world of men by covetousness and error. For this, we have been struck with fear. Through loss of the Vedas, O Supreme Lord, righteousness also has been lost. For this, O Lord of the three worlds, we are about to descend to the level of human beings. Men used to pour libations upwards while we used to pour rain downwards.[170] In consequence, however, of the cessation of all pious rites among men, great distress will be our lot. Do thou then, O Grandsire, think of that which would benefit us, so that the universe, created by thy power, may not meet with destruction.' Thus addressed, the Self-born and divine Lord said unto them, 'I shall think of what will do good to all. Ye foremost of gods, let your fears be dispelled!' The Grandsire then composed by his own intelligence a treatise consisting of a hundred thousand chapters. In it were treated the subject of Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure, which the Self-born designated as the triple aggregate. He treated of a fourth subject called Emancipation with opposite meaning and attributes. The triple aggregate in respect of emancipation, viz., to the attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness, and another, (a fourth, viz., the practice of duty without hope of bliss or reward in this or the other world), were treated in it. Another triple aggregate connected with Chastisement, viz., Conversation, Growth, and Destruction, was treated in it.[171] Another aggregate of six consisting of the hearts of men, place, time, means, overt acts, and alliances, and causes, were treated in it. The religious rites laid down in the three Vedas, knowledge, and the acts necessary for the support of life, (viz., agriculture, trade, &c.), O bull of Bharata's race, and the very extensive branch of learning called punitive legislation, were laid down in it. The subjects also of behaviour towards counsellors, of spies, the indications of princes, of secret agents possessed of diverse means, of envoys and agents of other kinds, conciliation, fomenting discord, gifts, and chastisement, O king, with toleration as the fifth, were fully treated therein. Deliberation of all kinds, counsels for producing disunion, the errors of deliberation, the results of the success or failure of counsels, treaties of three kinds, viz., bad, middling, and good, made through fear, good offices, and gifts of wealth, were described in detail. The four kinds of time for making journeys, the details of the aggregate of three, the three kinds of victory, viz., that secured righteously, that won by wealth, and that obtained by deceitful ways, were described in detail. The three kinds of attributes, viz., bad, middling, and good, of the aggregate of five (viz., counsellors, kingdom, fort, army, and treasury,) were also treated in it. Chastisements of two kinds, viz., open and secret, were indicated. The eight kinds of open chastisement, as also the eight kinds of secret chastisement, were dealt with in detail. Cars, elephants, horses, and foot-soldiers, O son of Pandu, impressed labourers, crews, and paid attendants (of armies), and guides taken from the country which is the seat of war, these are the eight instruments, O Kauravya, of open chastisement or forces acting openly. The use and administration of movable and immovable poison were also mentioned in respect of the three kinds of things, viz., wearing apparel, food, and incantations. Enemies, allies, and neutrals,--these also were described. The diverse characteristics of roads (to be taken, as dependent on stars and planets, etc.), the attributes of the soil (on which to encamp), protection of self, superintendence of the construction of cars and other utensils of war and use, the diverse means for protecting and improving men, elephants, cars, and steeds, the diverse kinds of battle array, strategies, and manoeuvres in war, planetary conjunctions foreboding evil, calamitous visitations (such as earthquakes), skilful methods of warfare and retreat, knowledge of weapons and their proper keep, the disorders of troops and how to get rid of them, the means of inspiring the army with joy and confidence, diseases, times of distress and danger, knowledge of guiding foot-soldiers in battle, the methods of sounding alarms and notifying orders, inspiring the enemy with fear by display of standards, the diverse methods of afflicting the enemy's kingdom by means of robbers and fierce wild-tribes, and fire-raisers and poisoners and forgers by producing disunion among the chief officers of hostile armies, by cutting down crops and plants, by destroying the efficiency of the enemy's elephants, by producing alarms, by honouring those among the enemy's subjects that are well disposed towards the invader, and by inspiring the enemy with confidence, the waste, growth, and harmony of the seven essential requisites of sovereignty, capacity for (projected) works, the means for accomplishing them, the methods of extending the kingdom, the means of winning over persons residing in the enemy's territory, the chastisement and destruction of those that are strong, the exact administration of justice, the extermination of the wicked, wrestling, shooting and throwing and hurling of weapons, the methods of making presents and of storing requisite things, feeding the unfed and supervision over those that have been fed, gifts of wealth in season, freedom from the vices called Vyasanas, the attributes of kings, the qualifications of military officers, the sources of the aggregate of three and its merits and faults, the diverse kinds of evil intents, the behaviour of dependents, suspicion against every one, the avoidance of heedlessness, the acquisition of objects unattained, the improving of objects already acquired, gifts to deserving persons of what has thus been improved, expenditure of wealth for pious purposes, for acquiring objects of desire, and for dispelling danger and distress, were all treated in that work. The fierce vices, O chief of the Kurus, born of temper, and those born of lust, in all of ten kinds, were mentioned in that treatise. The four kinds of vices which the learned say are born of lust, viz., hunting, gambling, drinking, and sexual indulgence, were mentioned by the Self-born in that work. Rudeness of speech, fierceness, severity of chastisement, infliction of pain on the body, suicide, and frustrating one's own objects, these are the six kinds of faults born of wrath, that have also been mentioned. Diverse kinds of machines and their actions have been described there. Devastation of the enemy's territories, attacks upon foes, the destruction and removal of landmarks and other indications, the cutting down of large trees (for depriving the enemy and the enemy's subjects of their refreshing shade), siege of forts, supervision of agriculture and other useful operations, the storage of necessaries, robes and attire (of troops), and the best means of manufacturing them, were all described. The characteristics and uses of Panavas, Anakas, conchs, and drums, O Yudhishthira, the six kinds of articles (viz., gems, animals, lands, robes, female slaves, and gold) and the means of acquiring them (for one's one self) and of destroying them (for injuring the foe), pacification of newly acquired territories, honouring the good, cultivating friendship with the learned, knowledge of the rules in respect of gifts and religious rites such as homa, the touch of auspicious articles, attention to the adornment of the body, the manner of preparing and using food, piety of behaviour, the attainment of prosperity by following in one path, truthfulness of speech, sweetness of speech, observance of acts done on occasions of festivity and social gatherings and those done within the household, the open and secret acts of persons in all places of meeting, the constant supervision of the behaviour of men, the immunity of Brahmanas from punishment, the reasonable infliction of punishment, honours paid to dependants in consideration of kinship and merit, the protection of subjects and the means of extending the kingdom, the counsels that a king who lives in the midst of a dozen of kings, should pursue in respect of the four kinds of foes, the four kinds of allies, and the four kinds of neutrals, the two and seventy acts laid down in medical works about the protection, exercise, and improvements of the body, and the practices of particular countries, tribes, and families, were all duty treated in that work. Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure, and Emancipation, were also described in it. The diverse means of acquisition, the desire for diverse kinds of wealth, O giver of profuse presents, the methods of agriculture and other operations that form the chief source of the revenue, and the various means for producing and applying illusions, the methods by which stagnant water is rendered foul, were laid down in it. All those means, O tiger among kings, by which men might be prevented from deviating from the path of righteousness and honesty, were all described in it. Having composed that highly beneficial treatise, the divine Lord cheerfully said unto the deities having Indra for their head, those words: 'For the good of the world and for establishing the triple aggregate (viz., Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure), I have composed this science representing the very cheese of speech. Assisted by chastisement, this science will protect the world. Dealing rewards and punishments, this science will operate among men. And because men are led (to the acquisition of the objects of their existence) by chastisement, or, in other words, chastisement leads or governs everything, therefore will this science be known in the three worlds as Dandaniti (science of chastisement).[172] Containing the essence of all the attributes of the aggregate of six, this science will always be much regarded by all high-souled persons. Virtue, Profit, Pleasure, and Salvation have all been treated in it.' After this, the lord of Uma,--the divine and multiform Siva of large eyes, the Source of all blessings, first studied and mastered it. In view, however, of the gradual decrease of the period of life of human beings, the divine Siva abridged that science of grave import compiled by Brahman. The abridgment, called Vaisalakasha, consisting of ten thousand lessons, was then received by Indra devoted to Brahman and endued with great ascetic merit. The divine Indra also abridged it into a treatise consisting of five thousand lessons and called it Vahudantaka. Afterwards the puissant Vrihaspati, by his intelligence, further abridged the work into a treatise consisting of three thousand lessons and called it Varhaspatya. Next, that preceptor of Yoga, of great celebrity, viz., Kavi of immeasurable wisdom, reduced it further into a work of a thousand lessons. In view of the period of men's lives and the general decrease (of everything), great Rishis did thus, for benefiting the world, abridge that science. The gods then, approaching that lord of creatures, viz., Vishnu, said unto him, 'Indicate, O god, that one among mortals who deserves to have superiority over the rest.' The divine and puissant Narayana, reflecting a little, created, by a fiat of his will, a son born of his energy, named Virajas. The highly blessed Virajas, however, did not desire sovereignty on earth. His mind, O son of Pandu, inclined to a life of renunciation. Virajas had a son named Krittimat. He too renounced pleasure and enjoyment.[173] Krittimat had a son named Kardama. Kardama also practised severe austerities. The lord of creatures, Kardama, begot a son named Ananga. Ananga became a protector of creatures, pious in behaviour, and fully conversant with the science of chastisement. Ananga begot a son named Ativala, well versed in policy. Obtaining extensive empire after the demise of his sire, he became a slave of his passions. Mrityu, O king, had a daughter born of his mind, named Sunita and celebrated over the three worlds. She was married to Ativala and gave birth to a son named Vena. Vena, a slave of wrath and malice, became unrighteous in his conduct towards all creatures. The Rishis, those utterers of Brahma, slew him with Kusa blades (as their weapon) inspired with mantras. Uttering mantras the while, those Rishis pierced the right thigh of Vena. Thereupon, from that thigh, came out a short-limbed person on earth, resembling a charred brand, with blood-red eyes and black hair. Those utterers of Brahma said unto him, 'Nishida (sit) here!' From him have sprung the Nishadas, viz., those wicked tribes that have the hills and the forests for their abode, as also those hundreds and thousands of others called Mlecchas, residing on the Vindhya mountains. The great Rishis then pierced the right arm of Vena. Thence sprang a person who was a second Indra in form. Clad in mail, armed with scimitars, bows, and arrows, and well-versed in the science of weapons, he was fully acquainted with the Vedas and their branches. All the ordinances of the science of chastisement, O king, (in their embodied forms) came to that best of men. The son of Vena then, with joined hands, said unto those great Rishis, 'I have attained an understanding that is very keen and that is observant of righteousness. Tell me in detail what I shall do with it. That useful task which you will be pleased to indicate, I shall accomplish without hesitation.' Thus addressed, the gods that were present there, as also the Rishis, said unto him. 'Do thou fearlessly accomplish all those tasks in which righteousness even resides. Disregarding what is dear and what not so, look upon all creatures with an equal eye. Cast off at a distance lust and wrath and covetousness and honour, and, always observing the dictates of righteousness, do thou punish with thy own hands the man, whoever he may be, that deviates from the path of duty. Do thou also swear that thou wouldst, in thought, word, and deed, always maintain the religion inculcated on earth by the Vedas. Do thou further swear that thou wouldst fearlessly maintain the duties laid down in the Vedas with the aid of the science of chastisement, and that thou wouldst never act with caprice. O puissant one, know that Brahmanas are exempt from chastisement, and pledge further that thou wouldst protect the world from an intermixture of castes.' Thus addressed, Vena's son replied unto the deities headed by the Rishis, saying, 'Those bulls among men, viz., the highly blessed Brahmanas, shall ever be worshipped by me.' Those utterers of Brahma then said unto him, 'Let it be so!' Then Sukra, that vast receptacle of Brahma, became his priest. The Valakhilyas became his counsellors, and the Saraswatas his companions. The great and illustrious Rishi Garga became his astrologer. This high declaration of the Srutis is current among men that Prithu is the eighth from Vishnu. A little before, the two persons named Suta and Magadha had come into existence. They became his bards and panegyrists. Gratified, Prithu, the royal son of Vena, possessed of great prowess, gave unto Suta the land lying on the sea-coast, and unto Magadha the country since known as Magadha. We have heard that the surface of the earth had before been very uneven. It was Prithu who made the terrestrial surface level. In every Manwantara, the earth becomes uneven.[174] Vena's son removed the rocks and rocky masses lying all around, O monarch, with the horn of his bow. By this means the hills and mountains became enlarged. Then Vishnu, and the deities of Indra, and the Rishis, and the Regents of the world, and the Brahmanas, assembled together for crowning Prithu (as the king of the world). The earth herself, O son of Pandu, in her embodied form, came to him, with a tribute of gems and jewels. Ocean, that lord of rivers, and Himavat, the king of mountains, and Sakra, O Yudhishthira, bestowed upon him inexhaustible wealth. The great Meru, that mountain of gold, gave unto him heaps of that precious metal. The divine Kuvera, borne on the shoulders of human beings, that lord of Yakshas and Rakshasas, gave him wealth enough for gratifying the needs of religion, profit, and pleasure. Steeds, cars, elephants, and men, by millions, O son of Pandu, started into life as soon as Vena's son thought of them. At that time there was neither decrepitude, nor famine, nor calamity, nor disease (on earth). In consequence of the protection afforded by that king, nobody had any fear from reptiles and thieves or from any other source. When he proceeded to the sea, the waters used to be solidified. The mountains gave him way, and his standard was never obstructed anywhere. He drew from the earth, as a milcher from a cow, seven and ten kinds of crops for the food of Yakshas, and Rakshasas, and Nagas, and other creatures. That high-souled king caused all creatures to regard righteousness as the foremost of all things; and because he gratified all the people, therefore, was he called Rajan (king). And because he also healed the wounds of Brahmanas, therefore, he earned the name of Kshatriya. And because the earth (in his region) became celebrated for the practice of virtue, therefore, she came to be called by many as Prithvi. The eternal Vishnu himself, O Bharata, confirmed his power, telling him, 'No one, O king, shall transcend thee.' The divine Vishnu entered the body of that monarch in consequence of his penances. For this reason, the entire universe offered divine worship unto Prithu, numbered among human gods.[175] O king, thy kingdom should always be protected by the aid of the science of chastisement. Thou shouldst also, by careful observation made through the movements of thy spies, protect it in such a way that no one may be able to injure it.[176] All good acts, O king, lead to the good (of the monarch). The conduct of a king should be regulated by his own intelligence, as also by the opportunities and means that may offer themselves.[177] What other cause is there in consequence of which the multitude live in obedience to one, save the divinity of the monarch? At that time a golden lotus was born from Vishnu's brow. The goddess Sree was born of that lotus. She became the spouse of Dharma of great intelligence; upon Sree, O son of Pandu, Dharma begot Artha. All the three, viz., Dharma, and Artha and Sree, were established in sovereignty. A person upon the exhaustion of his merit, comes down from heaven to earth, and takes birth as a king conversant with the science of chastisement. Such a person becomes endued with greatness and is really a portion of Vishnu on earth. He becomes possessed of great intelligence and obtains superiority over others. Established by the gods, no one transcends him. It is for this reason that everybody acts in obedience to one, and it is for this that the world cannot command him. Good acts, O king, lead to good. It is for this that the multitude obey his words of command, though he belongs to the same world and is possessed of similar limbs. He who once beheld Prithu's amiable face became obedient to him. Thenceforth he began to regard him as handsome, wealthy, and highly blessed.[178] In consequence of the might of his sceptre, the practice of morality and just behaviour became so visible on earth. It is through that reason that the earth became overspread with virtue. "'"Thus, O Yudhishthira, the histories of all past events, the origin of the great Rishis, the holy waters, the planets and stars and asterisms, the duties in respect of the four modes of life, the four kinds of Homa, the characteristics of the four orders of men, and the four branches of learning, were all treated of in that work (of the Grandsire). Whatever objects or things, O son of Pandu, there are on earth, were all included in that treatise of the Grandsire. Histories and the Vedas and the science of Nyaya were all treated in it, as also penances, knowledge, abstention from injury in respect of all creatures, truth, falsehood, and high morality. Worship of persons old in years, gifts, purity of behaviour, readiness for exertion, and compassion towards all creatures, were very fully described in it. There is no doubt in this. Since that time, O monarch, the learned have begun to say that there is no difference between a god and a king. I have now told thee everything about the greatness of kings. What other subject is there, O chief of the Bharatas, upon which I shall next have to discourse?"'" SECTION LX "Vaisampayana said, 'After this, Yudhishthira, saluted his grandsire, viz. the son of Ganga, and with joined hands and concentrated attention, once more asked him, saying, "What are the general duties of the four orders of men, and what the special duties of each order? What mode of life should be adopted by which order? What duties are especially called the duties of kings? By what means does a kingdom grow, and what are those means by which the king himself grows? How also, O bull of Bharata's race, do the citizens and the servants of the king grow? What sorts of treasuries, punishments, forts, allies, counsellors, priests, and preceptors, should a king avoid?[179] Whom should the king trust in what kinds of distress and danger? From what evils should the king guard himself firmly? Tell me all this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "I bow down to Dharma who is great, and to Krishna who is Brahma. Having bowed down also unto the Brahmanas (assembled here), I shall discourse on duties that are eternal. The suppression of wrath, truthfulness of speech, justice, forgiveness, begetting children upon one's own wedded wives, purity of conduct, avoidance of quarrel, simplicity, and maintenance of dependants, these nine duties belong to all the four orders (equally). Those duties, however, which belong exclusively to Brahmanas, I shall now tell thee. Self-restraint, O king, has been declared to be the first duty of Brahmanas. Study of the Vedas, and patience in undergoing austerities, (are also their other duties). By practising these two, all their acts are accomplished. If while engaged in the observance of his own duties, without doing any improper act, wealth comes to a peaceful Brahmana possessed of knowledge, he should then marry and seek to beget children and should also practise charity and perform sacrifices. It has been declared by the wise that wealth thus obtained should be enjoyed by distributing it (among deserving persons and relatives). By his study of the Vedas all the pious acts (laid down for the Brahmana) are accomplished. Whether he does or does not achieve anything else, if he devotes himself to the study of the Vedas, he becomes (by that) known as a Brahmana or the friend of all creatures. I shall also tell thee, O Bharata, what the duties are of a Kshatriya. A Kshatriya, O king, should give but not beg, should himself perform sacrifices but not officiate as a priest in the sacrifices of others. He should never teach (the Vedas) but study (them with a Brahmana preceptor). He should protect the people. Always exerting himself for the destruction of robbers and wicked people, he should put forth his prowess in battle. Those among Kshatriya rulers who perform great sacrifices, who are possessed of a knowledge of the Vedas, and who gain victories in battle, become foremost of those that acquire many blessed regions hereafter by their merit. Persons conversant with the old scriptures do not applaud that Kshatriya who returns unwounded from battle. This has been declared to be the conduct of a wretched Kshatriya.[180] There is no higher duty for him than the suppression of robbers. Gifts, study, and sacrifices, bring prosperity to kings. Therefore, a king who desires to acquire religious merit should engage in battle.[181] Establishing all his subjects in the observance of their respective duties, a king should cause all of them to do everything according to the dictates of righteousness. Whether he does or does not do any other act, if only he protects his subjects, he is regarded to accomplish all religious acts and is called a Kshatriya and the foremost of men. I shall now tell thee, O Yudhishthira, what the eternal duties of the Vaisya are. A Vaisya should make gifts, study the Vedas, perform sacrifices, and acquire wealth by fair means. With proper attention he should also protect and rear all (domestic) animals as a sire protecting his sons. Anything else that he will do will be regarded as improper for him. By protecting the (domestic) animals, he would obtain great happiness. The Creator, having created the (domestic) animals, bestowed their care upon the Vaisya. Upon the Brahmana and the Kshatriya he conferred (the care of) all creatures. I shall tell thee what the Vaisya's profession is and how he is to earn the means of his sustenance. If he keeps (for others) six kine, he may take the milk of one cow as his remuneration; and if he keeps (for others) a hundred kine, he may take a single pair as such fee. If he trades with other's wealth, he may take a seventh part of the profits (as his share). A seventh also is his share in the profits arising from the trade in horns, but he should take a sixteenth if the trade be in hoofs. If he engages in cultivation with seeds supplied by others, he may take a seventh part of the yield. This should be his annual remuneration. A Vaisya should never desire that he should not tend cattle. If a Vaisya desires to tend cattle, no one else should be employed in that task. I should tell thee, O Bharata, what the duties of a Sudra are. The Creator intended the Sudra to become the servant of the other three orders. For this, the service of the three other classes is the duty of Sudra. By such service of the other three, a Sudra may obtain great happiness. He should wait upon the three other classes according to their order of seniority. A Sudra should never amass wealth, lest, by his wealth, he makes the members of the three superior classes obedient to him. By this he would incur sin. With the king's permission, however, a Sudra, for performing religious acts, may earn wealth. I shall now tell thee the profession he should follow and the means by which he may earn his livelihood. It is said that Sudras should certainly be maintained by the (three) other orders. Worn-out umbrellas, turbans, beds and seats, shoes, and fans, should be given to the Sudra servants.[182] Torn clothes which are no longer fit for wear, should be given away by the regenerate classes unto the Sudra. These are the latter's lawful acquisitions. Men conversant with morality say that if the Sudra approaches any one belonging to the three regenerate orders from desire of doing menial service, the latter should assign him proper work. Unto the sonless Sudra his master should offer the funeral cake. The weak and the old amongst them should be maintained.[183] The Sudra should never abandon his master, whatever the nature or degree of the distress into which the latter may fall. If the master loses his wealth, he should with excessive zeal be supported by the Sudra servant. A Sudra cannot have any wealth that is his own. Whatever he possesses belongs lawfully to his master.[184] Sacrifice has been laid down as a duty of the three other orders. It has been ordained for the Sudra also, O Bharata! A Sudra, however, is not competent to titter swaha and swadha or any other Vedic mantra. For this reason, the Sudra, without observing the vows laid down in the Vedas, should worship the gods in minor sacrifices called Paka-yajnas. The gift called Purna-patra is declared to be the Dakshina of such sacrifices.[185] It has been heard by us that in days of old a Sudra of the name of Paijavana gave a Dakshina (in one of his sacrifices) consisting of a hundred thousand Purnapatras, according to the ordinance called Aindragni.[186] Sacrifice (as has been already said), is as much laid down for the Sudra as for the three other classes. Of all sacrifices, devotion has been laid down to be the foremost.[187] Devotion is a high deity. It cleanses all sacrificers. Then again Brahmanas are the foremost of gods unto their respective Sudra attendants. They worship the gods in sacrifices, for obtaining the fruition of various wishes. The members of the three other classes have all sprung from the Brahmanas.[188] The Brahmanas are the gods of the very gods. Whatever they would say would be for thy great good. Therefore, all kinds of sacrifices naturally appertain to all the four orders. The obligation is not one whose discharge is optional. The Brahmana, who is conversant with Richs, Yajuses, and Samans, should always be worshipped as a god. The Sudra, who is without Richs and Yajuses and Samans, has Prajapati for his god.[189] Mental sacrifice, O sire, is laid down for all the orders, O Bharata! It is not true that the gods and other (Superior) persons do not manifest a desire to share the offerings in such sacrifices of even the Sudra.[190] For this reason, the sacrifice that consists in devotion is laid down for all the classes.[191] The Brahmana is the foremost of gods. It is not true that they that belong to that order do not perform the sacrifices of the other orders. The fire called Vitana, though procured from Vaisyas and inspired with mantras, is still inferior.[192] The Brahmana is the performer of the sacrifices of the three other orders. For this reason all the four orders are holy. All the orders bear towards one another to relation of consanguinity, through the intermediate classes. They have all sprung from Brahmanas. In ascertaining (the priority or subsequence of men in respect of their creation) it will appear that amongst all the orders the Brahmana was created first. Originally Saman was one, Yajus was one, and Rich was one.[193] In this connection, persons conversant with ancient histories cite a verse, O king, sung in praise of sacrifice by the Vaikhanasa Munis on the occasion of performing a sacrifice of theirs. Before or after sunrise a person of subdued senses, with heart filled with devotion, poureth libations on the (sacrificial) fire according to the ordinance. Devotion is a mighty agent. With regard to homas again, that variety which is called skanna is the initial one, while that which is called askanna is the last (but foremost in point of merit). Sacrifices are multifarious. Their rites and fruits again are multifarious. The Brahmana possessed of devotion who, endued with scriptural learning, who is acquainted with them all, is competent to perform sacrifices. That person who desires to perform a sacrifice is regarded as righteous even if he happens to be a thief, a sinner, or the worst of sinners. The Rishis applaud such a man. Without doubt they are right. This then is the conclusion that all the orders should always and by every means in their power perform sacrifices. There is nothing in the three worlds equal to sacrifice. Therefore, it has been said that every one with heart free from malice, should perform sacrifices, aided by devotion which is sacred, to the best of his power and according as he pleases."'" SECTION LXI "'Bhishma said, "O mighty-armed one, listen now to me, O thou of prowess incapable of being baffled, as I mention the names of the four modes of life and the duties in respect of each. The four modes are Vanaprastha, Bhaikshya, Garhasthya of great merit, and Brahmacharya which is adopted by Brahmanas. Undergoing the purificatory rite in respect of bearing matted locks, after having gone through the rite of regeneration and performed for some time the rites in respect of the sacred fire and studied the Vedas, one should, with cleansed soul and senses under restraint, having first carefully performed all the duties of the mode called Garhasthya, proceed, with or without his wife, to the woods for adoption of the mode called Vanaprastha. Having studied the scriptures called Aranyakas, having drawn up his vital fluid and having retired from all worldly affairs, the virtuous recluse may then attain to an absorption with the eternal Soul knowing no decay. These are the indications of Munis that have drawn up their vital fluid. A learned Brahmana, O king, should first practise and perform them. The Brahmana, O king, that is desirous of emancipation, it is well known, is competent to adopt the Bhaikshya mode after having gone through the mode called Brahmacharya. Sleeping at that place (in the course of the wanderings) where evening overtakes him, without desire of bettering his situation, without a home, subsisting on whatever food is obtained (in charity), given to contemplation, practising self-restraint, with the senses under control, without desire, regarding all creatures equally, without enjoyments, without dislike to anything, the Brahmana possessed of learning, by adopting this mode of life, attains to absorption with the eternal Soul that knows no decay. The person leading the Garhasthya mode of life should, after studying the Vedas, accomplish all the religious acts laid down for him. He should beget children and enjoy pleasures and comforts. With careful attention he should accomplish all the duties of this mode of life that is applauded by ascetics and that is extremely difficult to go through (without transgressions). He should be satisfied with his own wedded wife and should never approach her except her season. He should observe the ordinances of the scriptures, should not be cunning and deceitful. He should be abstemious in diet, devoted to the gods, grateful, mild, destitute of cruelty, and forgiving. He should be of a tranquil heart, tractable and attentive in making offerings to the gods and the Pitris. He should always be hospitable to the Brahmanas. He should be without pride, and his charity should not be confined to any one sect. He should also be always devoted to the performance of the Vedic rites. In this connection, the illustrious and great Rishis cite a verse sung by Narayana himself, of grave import and endued with high ascetic merit. Listen to me as I repeat it.--'By truth, simplicity, worship of guests, acquisition of morality and profit, and enjoyment of one's own wedded wives, one should enjoy diverse kinds of happiness both here and hereafter.' The great Rishis have said that support of sons and wives, and study of the Vedas, form the duties of those that lead this high mode of life. That Brahmana who, always engaged in the performance of sacrifices, duly goes through this mode of life and properly discharges all its duties, obtains blessed rewards in heaven. Upon his death, the rewards desired by him became deathless. Indeed, these wait upon him for eternity like menials ever on the alert to execute the commands of their master.[194] Always attending to the Vedas, silently reciting the mantras obtained from his preceptor, worshipping all the deities, O Yudhishthira, dutifully waiting upon and serving his preceptor with his own body smeared with clay and filth, the person leading the Brahmacharya mode of life should always observe rigid vows and, with senses under control, should always pay attention to the instructions he has received. Reflecting on the Vedas and discharging all the duties (in respect of contemplation and overt acts), he should live, dutifully waiting upon his preceptor and always bowing unto him. Unengaged in the six kinds of work (such as officiating in the sacrifices of others), and never engaged with attachment to any kind of acts, never showing favour or disfavour to any one, doing good even unto his enemies, these, O sire, are the duties laid down for a Brahmacharin!"'" SECTION LXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell us those duties in respect of persons like ourselves which are auspicious, productive of happiness in the future, benevolent, approved by all, pleasant, and agreeable." "'Bhishma said, "The four modes of life, O puissant one, have been laid down for the Brahmana. The other three orders do not adopt them, O best of the Bharatas! Many acts, O king, leading to heaven and especially fit for the kingly order, have already been declared. Those, however, cannot be referred to in reply to thy present query, for all of them have been duly laid down for such Kshatriyas as are not disinclined to pitilessness. The Brahmana who is addicted to the practices of Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, incurs censure in this world as a person of wicked soul and goes to hell in the next world. Those names which are applied among men to slaves and dogs and wolves and (other) beasts, are applied, O son of Pandu, to the Brahmana who is engaged in pursuits that are improper for him. That Brahmana who, in all the four modes of life. is duly engaged in the six-fold acts (of regulating the breath, contemplation, etc.), who performs all his duties, who is not restless, who has his passions under control, whose heart is pure and who is ever engaged in penances, who has no desire of bettering his prospects, and who is charitable, has inexhaustible regions of bliss in the other world. Everyone derives his own nature from the nature of his acts, in respect of their circumstances, place, and means and motives. Thou shouldst, therefore, O king, regard the study of the Vedas, which is fraught with such high merit, to be equal with the exertion of kingly power, or the pursuits of agriculture, trade, and hunting. The world is set agoing by Time. Its operations are settled by the course of Time. Man does all his acts, good, bad, and indifferent, entirely influenced by Time.[195] Those amongst the good acts of a man's past life that exert the greatest influence on the next, are liable to be exhausted. Men, however, are always engaged in those acts to which their propensities lead. Those propensities, again, lead a living being to every direction."'"[196] SECTION LXIII "'Bhishma said, "Drawing the bow-string, destruction of foes, agriculture, trade, tending cattle, and serving others for wealth, these are improper for a Brahmana. An intelligent Brahmana, leading a domestic mode of life, should duly perform the six Vedic acts. The retirement of a Brahmana into the woods, after having duly discharged all the duties of the domestic mode of life, is applauded. A Brahmana should avoid service of the king, wealth obtained by agriculture, sustenance derived from trade, all kinds of crooked behaviour, companionship with any but his wedded wives, and usury. That wretched Brahmana who falls away from his duties and whose behaviour becomes wicked, becomes, O king, a Sudra. The Brahmana who weds a Sudra woman, who becomes vile in conduct or a dancer or a village servant or does other improper acts, becomes a Sudra. Whether he recites the Vedas or not, O king, if he does such improper acts, he becomes equal to a Sudra and on occasions of feeding he should be assigned a place amongst Sudras. Such Brahmanas become equal to Sudras, O king, and should be discarded on occasions of worshipping the Gods.[197] Whatever presents of food dedicated to the gods and the Pitris are made unto Brahmanas that have transgressed all restraints or become impure in behaviour or addicted to wicked pursuits and cruel acts or fallen away from their legitimate duties, confer no merit (on the giver). For this reason, O king, self-restraint and purity and simplicity have been laid down as the duties of a Brahmana. Besides these, O monarch, all the four modes of life were laid down by Brahman for him. He that is self-restrained, has drunk the Soma in sacrifices, is of good behaviour, has compassion for all creatures and patience to bear everything, has no desire of bettering his position by acquisition of wealth, is frank and simple, mild, free from cruelty, and forgiving, is truly a Brahmana and not he that is sinful in acts. Men desirous of acquiring virtue, seek the assistance, O king, of Sudras and Vaisyas and Kshatriyas. If, therefore, the members of these (three) orders do not adopt peaceful duties (so as to be able to assist others in the acquisition of virtue), Vishnu, O son of Pandu, never extends his grace to them. If Vishnu be not pleased, the happiness of all men in heaven, the merit arising from the duties laid down for the four orders, the declarations of the Vedas, all kinds of sacrifices, and all other religious acts of men, and all the duties in respect of the several modes of life, become lost. "'"Listen now, O son of Pandu, to those duties that should be observed in the four modes of life. These should be known by the Kshatriya who desires the members of the three (other) orders (in his kingdom) to strictly adhere to the respective duties of those modes. For a Sudra who is desirous of hearing (such scriptures as are not forbidden in his case),[198] who has accomplished his duties, who has begotten a son, between whom and the superior orders there is not much difference in consequence of the purity of his conduct, all the modes of life have been laid down excepting the observance of universal peacefulness and self-restraint (which are not necessary for him). For a Sudra practising all these duties as also for a Vaisya, O king, and a Kshatriya, the Bhikshu mode of life has been laid down. Having discharged the duties of his order, and having also served the kin, a Vaisya of venerable years, with the king's permission, may betake himself to another mode of life. Having studied the Vedas duly and the treatises on the duties of kings, O sinless one, having begotten children and performed other acts of a like nature, having quaffed the Soma and ruled over and protected all his subjects righteously, O foremost of speakers, having performed the Rajasuya, the horse sacrifice, and other great sacrifices, having invited learned Brahmanas for reciting the scriptures and made presents unto them according to their desires, having obtained victories small or great in battle, having placed on his throne the son of his loins or some Kshatriya of good birth for the protection of subjects, having worshipped the Pitris by performing with due rites the sacrifices laid down for honouring them, having attentively worshipped the gods by performing sacrifices and the Rishis by studying the Vedas, the Kshatriya, who in old age desires another mode of life, may, O king, adopt it by leaving that one which immediately precedes it, and by that means he is sure to obtain (ascetic) success. A Kshatriya, for leading the life of a Rishi, O king, may adopt the Bhikshu mode of life; but he should never do so for the sake of enjoying the pleasures of the world. Having left the domestic mode of life, he may adopt the life of mendicancy by begging, what would barely support his life. A life of mendicancy is not obligatory upon the three orders (viz. Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras), O giver of profuse presents! Inasmuch, however, as they can adopt it if they choose, this mode of life, therefore, is open to the four orders. Amongst men, the highest duties are those which are practised by Kshatriyas. The whole world is subject to the might of their arms. All the duties, principal and subordinate, of the three other orders, are dependent (for their observance) upon the duties of the Kshatriya. The Vedas have declared this. Know that as the footprints of all other animals are engulfed in those of the elephant, even so all the duties of the other orders, under every circumstance, are engulfed, in those of the Kshatriya. Men conversant with the scriptures say that the duties of the other three orders afford small relief or protection, and produce small rewards. The learned have said that the duties of the Kshatriya afford great relief and produce great rewards. All duties have kingly duties for their foremost. All the orders are protected by them. Every kind of renunciation occurs in kingly duties, O monarch, and renunciation has been said to be in eternal virtue and the foremost of all.[199] If the science of chastisement disappears, the Vedas will disappear. All those scriptures also that inculcate the duties of men become lost. Indeed, if these ancient duties belonging to the Kshatriyas be abandoned, all the duties in respect of all the modes of life, become lost. All kinds of renunciation are seen in kingly duties; all kinds of initiation occur in them; all kinds of learning are connected with them; and all kinds of worldly behaviour enter into them. As animals, if slaughtered by the vulgar, become the means of destroying the virtue and the religious acts of the slaughterers, even so all other duties, if deprived of the protection given by kingly duties, become liable to attack and destruction, and men, full of anxiety, disregard the practices laid down for them."'" SECTION LXIV "'Bhishma said, "The duties in respect of all the four modes of life, those of yatis, O son of Pandu, and the customs relating to the conduct of men in general, are all included in kingly duties. All these acts, O chief of the Bharatas, occur in Kshatriya duties. If the functions of royalty are disturbed, all creatures are overtaken by evil. The duties of men are not obvious. They have, again, many outlets.[200] Led by many (false) systems, their eternal nature is sometimes offended against. Others who pin their faith to the conclusions arrived at by men, without really knowing anything about the truths of duties (as declared in the scriptures), find themselves at last landed and confounded on faiths whose ultimate ends are unknown. The duties imposed upon Kshatriyas are plain, productive of great happiness, evident in respect of their results, free from deceit, and beneficial to the whole world. As the duties of the three orders, as also of Brahmanas and of those that have retired from the world, O Yudhishthira, have before this been said to be all included within those of that sacred mode of life (called Garhasthya), even so, the whole world, with all good actions, are subject to kingly duties. I have told thee, O monarch, how many brave kings had, in days of old, repaired to that lord of all creatures, viz., the divine and puissant Vishnu of great prowess, for resolving their doubts about the science of chastisement. Those kings, mindful of the declarations of the scriptures enforced by examples, waited in days of old upon Narayana, after having weighed each of their acts against the duties of each of the modes of life.[201] Those deities, viz., the Sadhyas, the Vasus, the Aswins, the Rudras, the Viswas, the Maruts, and the Siddhas, created in days of old by the first of gods, are all observant of Kshatriya duties. I shall now recite to thee a history fraught with the conclusions of both morality and profit. In days of old when the Danavas had multiplied and swept away all barriers and distinctions[202] the powerful Mandhatri, O monarch, became king. That ruler of the earth, viz., king Mandhatri, performed a great sacrifice from desire of beholding the puissant Narayana, that god of gods, without beginning, middle, and end. In that sacrifice he worshipped with humility the great Vishnu.[203] The Supreme Lord, assuming the form of Indra, showed himself unto him. Accompanied by many good kings he offered his adorations to that puissant deity. The high discourse took place between that lion among kings and that illustrious god in the form of Indra, touching Vishnu of great effulgence. "'"Indra said, 'What is your object, O foremost of virtuous persons, in thus seeking to behold that Ancient and First of gods, viz., Narayana, of inconceivable energy, and infinite illusions? Neither myself, nor Brahman himself, can obtain a sight of that god of universal form. I shall grant thee what other objects may be in thy heart, for thou art the foremost of mortals. Thy soul abides in peace; thou art devoted to righteousness; thou hast thy senses under control; and thou art possessed of heroism. Thou seekest unflinchingly to do what is agreeable to the gods. For the sake also of thy intelligence, devotion, and high faith, I shall grant thee whatsoever boons may be desired by thee.' "'"Mandhatri said, 'I bend my head for gratifying thee. Without doubt, however, I desire to see the first of gods, O divine Lord! Casting off all (earthly) desires, I wish to earn religious merit, and to lead the foremost mode of life, that path of the good, highly regarded by all. By exercising the high duties of a Kshatriya, I have earned many regions of inexhaustible merit in the other world, and I have also, through those duties, spread my fame. I do not, however, know how to discharge those duties, the foremost in the world, that have flowed from the first of gods.' "'"Indra said, 'They that are not kings, however observant they may be of their duties, cannot easily attain the highest rewards of duty. Kingly duties first flowed from the original god. Other duties flowed afterwards from his body. Infinite were the other duties, with those of the Vanaprastha mode of life, that were created afterwards. The fruits of all those are exhaustible. Kingly duties, however, are distinguished above them. In them are included all other duties. For this reason Kshatriya duties are said to be the foremost of all. In days of old, Vishnu, by acting according to Kshatriya duties, forcibly suppressed and destroyed his foes and thereby afforded relief to the gods and the Rishis of immeasurable energy. If the divine Vishnu of inconceivable energy had not slain all his foes among the Asuras, then the Brahmanas, and (Brahman) the Creator of the worlds and Kshatriya duties, and the duties that first flowed from the Supreme deity, would all have been destroyed. If that first and foremost of gods had not, by putting forth his prowess, subjugated the earth with all her Asuras, then all the duties, of the four orders and all the duties in respect of the four modes of life would all have been destroyed in consequence of the destruction of Brahmanas. The eternal duties (of men) had all suffered destruction. It was by the exercise of Kshatriya duties that they were revived.[204] In every Yuga, the duties of Brahmanas in respect of attaining to Brahma first set in. These, however, are all protected by kingly duties. The latter, on this account, are regarded as the foremost. Casting away life in battle, compassion for all creatures, knowledge of the affairs of the world, protection of men, rescuing them from danger, relieving the distressed and the oppressed, all these occur among Kshatriya duties practised by Kings. Persons that do not regard wholesome restraints and that are governed by lust and wrath, do not commit overt acts of sin from fear of kings. Others that are docile and of righteous behaviour succeed, in consequence of the same influence, in performing all their duties. For this reason Kshatriya duties are regarded to be righteous. Without doubt, all creatures live happily in the world, protected by kings exercising Kshatriya duties like children protected by their parents. Kshatriya duties are the foremost of all duties. Those eternal duties, regarded as the first in the world, embrace the protection of every creature. Themselves eternal, they lead to eternal emancipation.'"'" SECTION LXV "'"Indra said, 'Kshatriya duties, O king, which are possessed of such energy, which include in their exercise all other duties, and which are the foremost of all duties, should be observed by persons that are, like thee, so high-souled and so employed in seeking the good of the world. If those duties are not properly discharged, all creatures would be overtaken by ruin. The kings possessed of compassion for all creatures, should regard these to be the foremost of his duties, reclaiming the land for cultivation and fertilizing it, performance of great sacrifices for cleansing himself, a disregard for begging, and protection of subjects. Abandonment (gift) is said by the sages to be the foremost of virtues. Of all kinds of abandonment, again, that of the body in battle, is the foremost. Thou hast seen with thy eyes how the rulers of the earth, ever observant of Kshatriya duties, having duly waited upon their preceptors and acquired great learning, at last cast off their bodies, engaged in battle with one another. The Kshatriya, desirous of acquiring religious merit, should, after having gone through the Brahmacharya mode, should lead a life of domesticity which is always meritorious. In adjudicating upon ordinary questions of right (between his subjects), he should be thoroughly impartial. For causing all the orders to be observant of their respective duties, for the protection they afford to all, for the diverse contrivances and means and the prowess and exertion (with which they seek the accomplishment of their objects), Kshatriya duties, which include all other duties within their scope, are said to be the foremost. The other orders are able to observe their respective duties in consequence of kingly duties. For this reason the former are said to be dependent upon the latter in respect of the merit they produce.[205] Those men who disregard all wholesome restraints and who are too much attached to the pursuit of worldly objects are said to be of the nature of brutes. They are compelled to act with justice by the exercise of kingly duties. Those duties, therefore, are said to be the foremost of all. That course of conduct which has been prescribed for Brahmanas who follow the three Vedas, and those modes of life that have been laid down for Brahmanas, should, before everything else, be observed by every Brahmana. If a Brahmana acts otherwise, he should be punished like a Sudra. The duties of the four modes of life and the ritual prescribed in the Vedas, O king, should ever be followed by a Brahmana. Know that he has no other duties. For a Brahmana acting otherwise, a Kshatriya should not make any arrangement for sustenance. His religious merit grows in consequence of his acts. A Brahmana, indeed, is like Dharma's self. That Brahmana who is employed in acts that are not laid down for him, deserves no respect. If not engaged in his proper acts, he should not be trusted. These are the duties that appertain to the several orders. Kshatriyas should take care of them so that their observance may be improved. Even these are the duties of Kshatriyas. For these reasons also, kingly duties and no other, are the foremost of all. They are, as I believe, the duties of heroes, and they that are heroes are foremost in practising them.' "'"Mandhatri said, 'What duties should be performed by the Yavanas, the Kiratas, the Gandharvas, the Chinas, the Savaras, the Barbaras, the Sakas, the Tusharas, the Kankas, the Pathavas, the Andhras, the Madrakas, the Paundras, the Pulindas, the Ramathas, the Kamvojas, the several castes that have sprung up from Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, the Vaisyas, and the Sudras, that reside in the dominions of (Arya) kings? What are those duties again to the observance of which kings like ourselves should force those tribes that subsist by robbery? I desire to hear all this. O illustrious god, instruct me. O chief of all the deities, thou art the friend of us Kshatriyas.' "'"Indra said, 'All the robber tribes should serve their mothers and fathers, their preceptors and other seniors, and recluses living in the woods. All the robber tribes should also serve their kings. The duties and rites inculcated in the Vedas should also be followed by them. They should perform sacrifices in honour of the Pitris, dig wells, (and dedicate them to universal service), give water to thirsty travellers, give away beds and make other seasonable presents unto Brahmanas. Abstention from injury, truth, suppression of wrath, supporting Brahmanas and kinsmen by giving them their dues, maintenance of wives and children, purity, peacefulness, making presents to Brahmanas at sacrifices of every kind, are duties that should be practised by every person of this class who desire his own prosperity. Such a person should also perform all kinds of Paka-yajnas with costly presents of food and wealth. These and similar duties, O sinless one, were laid down in olden days for persons of this class. All these acts which have been laid down for all others should be done by persons of also the robber class, O king.' "'"Mandhatri said, 'In the world of men, such wicked men may be seen living in disguise among all the four orders and in all the four modes of life.' "'"Indra said, 'Upon the disappearance of kingly duties and of the science of chastisement, all creatures became exceedingly afflicted, O sinless one, in consequence of the tyranny of kings. After the expiry of this the Krita age, a confusion will set in, regarding the different modes of life, and innumerable Bhikshus will appear with sectarian marks of different kinds. Disregarding the Puranas and the high truths of religion, men, urged by lust and wrath, will deviate into wrong paths. When sinful men are restrained (from wicked acts) by high-souled persons with the aid of the science of chastisement, then religion, which is superior to everything and eternal, and which is the source of everything good, becomes firmly established. The gifts, and libations, and offerings to the Pitris of the man that disregards the king who is superior to every one, become fruitless. The very gods do not disregard a virtuous king who is truly an eternal god. The divine Lord of all creatures, having created the universe, intended the Kshatriya to rule men regarding their inclinations and disinclinations in respect of duties. I respect and worship that person who, aided by his understanding, watches the course of the duties performed by men. Upon such supervision rest Kshatriya duties.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, the divine and puissant Narayana in the form of Indra, accompanied by the Maruts, repaired to his eternal abode of inexhaustible felicity. When, O sinless one, duties as practised by the good had such a course in days of old, what man of cleansed soul and learning is there that would disregard the Kshatriya? Like blind men lost on the way, creatures acting and abstaining unrighteously meet with destruction. O tiger among men, do thou adhere to that circle (of duties) that was first set agoing and to which the ancients had recourse. I know, O sinless one, that thou art quite competent to do this."'" SECTION LXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast spoken to me about the four modes of human life. I desire to know more of them. Do thou discourse on them in detail." "'Bhishma said, "O Yudhishthira of mighty arms, all the duties that are practised in this world by the righteous are known to thee as they are known to me. O foremost of virtuous persons, listen now to me about what thou askest, viz. the merit (that a king acquires) in consequence of the duties practised by others leading other modes of life.[206] All the merits, O son of Kunti, that belong to persons practising the duties of the four modes of life, attach, O foremost of men, to righteous kings. A king who is not governed by lust and hate, who rules with the aid of the science of chastisement, and who looks equally on all creatures, O Yudhishthira, attains to the object of the Bhaikshya mode of life.[207] That king who is possessed of knowledge, who makes gifts to deserving persons on proper occasions, who knows how to favour and punish, who conducts himself in all things according to the injunctions of the scriptures, and who has tranquillity of soul, attains to the object of the Garhasthya mode of life. That king who always worships those that are deserving of worship by giving them their due, completely attains, O son of Kunti, to the object of the Bhaikshya mode of life. That king, O Yudhishthira, who rescues from distress, to the best of his power, his kinsmen and relatives and friends, attains to the object of the Vanaprastha mode of life. That king who on every occasion honours those that are foremost among men and those that are foremost among Yatis, attains, O son of Kunti, to the object of the Vanaprastha mode of life. That king, O Partha, who daily makes offerings unto the Pitris and large offerings unto all living creatures including men, attains to the object of the same mode of life. That king, O tiger among men, who grinds the kingdoms of others for protecting the righteous, attains to the object of the same mode of life. In consequence of the protection of all creatures as also of the proper protection of his own kingdom, a king earns the merit of as many sacrifices as the number of creatures protected, and accordingly attains to the object of the Sannyasa mode of life. Study of the Vedas every day, forgiveness, and worship of preceptors, and services rendered to one's own teacher, lead to the attainment of the object of Brahmacharya. That king who silently recites his mantras every day and who always worships the gods according to the ordinance, attains, O tiger among men, to the object of the Garhasthya mode of life. That king who engages in battle with the resolve of protecting his kingdom or meeting with death, attains to the object of the Vanaprastha mode of life. That king who gives unto persons leading a Vanaprastha mode of life and unto Brahmanas versed in the three Vedas attains to the object of the Vanaprastha mode of life. That king who displays compassion towards all creatures and abstains entirely from cruelty, attains to the objects of all the modes of life. That king, O Yudhishthira, who shows compassion to the young and the old, O son of Kunti, under every circumstance, attains to the objects of every mode of life. That king, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, who affords relief to all oppressed people that seek his protection, attains to the object of the Garhasthya mode of life. That king who protects all creatures mobile and immobile, and honours them as they deserve, attains to the object of the Garhasthya mode of life. Bestowing favours and inflicting punishments upon the wives and brothers, elder and younger, and upon their sons and grandsons, are the domestic duties of a king and these constitute his best penances. By honouring those that are righteous and deserving of worship and protecting those that have (by their penances) acquired knowledge of self, a king, O tiger among men, attains to the object of the Garhasthya mode of life. Inviting to this home, O Bharata, persons that have betaken themselves to that Vanaprastha and other modes of life, and treating them with food, constitute the domestic duties of a king. That king who duly adheres to the duties laid down by the Creator, obtains the blessed merits of all the modes of life. That king, O son of Kunti, in whom no virtue is wanting, that foremost of men, O Yudhishthira, is said by the learned to be a person in the observance of the Vanaprastha and all the other modes of life. That king who duly honours the office or rank which deserves honour, the race or family which deserves honour, and those old men that deserve honour is said, O Yudhishthira, to live in all the modes of life.[208] A king, O son of Kunti, by observing the duties of his country and those of his family, acquires, O tiger among men, the merits of all the modes of life. That king who at proper seasons bestows upon righteous persons affluence or gifts of value, earns the merits, O king, of all the modes of life. That king, O son of Kunti, who while overcome with danger and fear still keeps his eye on the duties of all men,[209] earns the merits of all the modes of life. The king obtains a share of the merits earned under his protection by righteous people in his dominions. On the other hand, if kings, O tiger among men, do not protect the righteous people within their dominions, they then take the sins of the latter (of omission and commission). Those men also, O Yudhishthira, who assist kings (in protecting their subjects), become equally entitled, O sinless one, to a share of the merits earned by others (in consequence of that protection). The learned say that the Garhasthya, which we have adopted, is superior to all the other modes of life. The conclusions in respect of it are very clear. It is certainly sacred, O tiger among men. That man who regards all creatures to be like his own self, who never does any harm and has his wrath under control, obtains great happiness both here and hereafter.[210] A king can easily cross the ocean of the world, with kingly duties as his boat passed of great speed, urged on by the breeze of gifts, having the scriptures for its tackle and intelligence for the strength of its helmsman, and kept afloat by the power of righteousness. When the principle of desire in his heart is withdrawn from every earthly object, he is then regarded as one resting on his understanding alone. In this state he soon attains to Brahma.[211] Becoming cheerful by meditation and by restraining desire and other passions of the heart, O tiger among men, a king, engaged in discharging the duty of protection, succeeds in obtaining great merit. Do thou, therefore, O Yudhishthira, exert thyself carefully in protecting Brahmanas of pious deeds and devoted to the study of the Vedas, as also all other men. By exercising the duty of protection only, O Bharata, the king earns merit that is a hundred times greater than what is earned by recluses in their asylums within the wood. "'"I have now described, O eldest son of Pandu, the diverse duties of men. Do thou adhere to kingly duties that are eternal and that have been practised by great men since days of old. If thou employest thyself with concentrated attention to the duty of protecting (thy subjects), O tiger among men, thou mayst then, O son of Pandu, obtain the merits of all the four modes of life and of all the four orders of men!"'" SECTION LXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast said what the duties are of the four modes of life and the four orders. Tell me now, O grandsire, what are the principal duties of a kingdom." "'Bhishma said, "The (election and) coronation of a king is the first duty of a kingdom. A kingdom in which anarchy prevails becomes weak and is soon afflicted by robbers.[212] In kingdoms torn by anarchy, righteousness cannot dwell. The inhabitants devour one another. An anarchy is the worst possible of states. The Srutis declare that in crowning a king, it is Indra that is crowned (in the person of the king). A person who is desirous of prosperity should worship the king as he should worship Indra himself. No one should dwell in kingdoms torn by anarchy. Agni does not convey (to the gods) the libations that are poured upon him in kingdoms where anarchy prevails. If a powerful king approaches kingdoms weakened by anarchy, from desire of annexing them to his dominions, the people should go forward and receive the invader with respect. Some conduct would be consistent with wise counsels. There is no evil greater than anarchy. If the powerful invader be inclined to equity, everything will be right. If, on the other hand, he be engaged, he may exterminate all. That cow which cannot be easily milked has to suffer much torture. On the other hand, that cow which is capable of being easily milked, has not to suffer any torture whatever. The wood that bends easily does not require to be heated. The tree that bends easily, has not to suffer any torture (at the hands of the gardener). Guided by these instances, O hero, men should bend before those that are powerful. The man that bends his head to a powerful person really bends his head to Indra. For these reasons, men desirous of prosperity should (elect and) crown some person as their king. They who live in countries where anarchy prevails cannot enjoy their wealth and wives. During times of anarchy, the sinful man derive great pleasure by robbing the wealth of other people. When, however, his (ill-got) wealth is snatched by others, he wishes for a king. It is evident, therefore, that in times of anarchy the very wicked even cannot be happy. The wealth of one is snatched away by two. That of those two is snatched away by many acting together. He who is not a slave is made a slave. Women, again, are forcibly abducted. For these reasons the gods created kings for protecting the people. If there were no king on earth for wielding the rod of chastisement, the strong would then have preyed on the weak after the manner of fishes in the water. It hath been heard by us that men, in days of old, in consequence of anarchy, met with destruction, devouring one another like stronger fishes devouring the weaker ones in the water. It hath been heard by us that a few amongst them then, assembling together, made certain compacts, saying, 'He who becomes harsh in speech, or violent in temper, he who seduces or abducts other people's wives or robs the wealth that belongs to others, should be cast off by us.' For inspiring confidence among all classes of the people, they made such a compact and lived for some time. Assembling after some time they proceeded in affliction to the Grandsire, saying, 'Without a king, O divine lord, we are going to destruction. Appoint some one as our king. All of us shall worship him and he shall protect us.' Thus solicited, the Grandsire asked Manu. Manu, however, did not assent to the proposal. "'"Manu said, 'I fear all sinful acts. To govern a kingdom is exceedingly difficult, especially among men who are always false and deceitful in their behaviour.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The inhabitants of the earth then said unto him, 'Do not fear. The sins that men commit will touch those only that commit them (without staining thee in the least). For the increase of thy treasury, we will give thee a fiftieth part of our animals and precious metals and a tenth part of our grain. When our maidens also will become desirous of wedding, we shall, when the question comes up, give thee the most beautiful ones among them. Those amongst men who will become the foremost of all in the use of weapons and in riding animals and driving vehicles, shall proceed behind thee like the deities behind Indra. With thy strength enhanced in this way, and becoming invincible and possessed of great prowess, thou wilt be our king and protect us happily like Kuvera protecting the Yakshas and the Rakshasas. A fourth part of the merit which men will earn under thy protection will be thine. Strengthened by that merit so easily obtained by thee, do thou protect us, O king, like He of a hundred sacrifices protecting the deities. Like the Sun scorching everything with his rays, go out for winning victories. Crush the pride of foes and let righteousness always triumph (in the world).' Thus addressed by those inhabitants of the earth, Manu, possessed of great energy, proceeded, accompanied by a large force. Of high descent, he seemed then to blaze with prowess. Beholding the might of Manu, like the gods eyeing the might of Indra, the inhabitants of the earth became inspired with fear and set their hearts upon their respective duties. Manu then made his round through the world, checking everywhere all acts of wickedness and setting all men to their respective duties, like a rain-charged cloud (in its mission of beneficence). "'"Those, O Yudhishthira, those men on earth who desire prosperity should first elect and crown a king for the protection of all. Like disciples humbling themselves in the presence of the preceptors or the gods in the presence of Indra, all men should humble themselves before the king. One that is honoured by his own people becomes an object of regard with his foes also, while one that is disregarded by his own is overridden by foes. If the king be overridden by his foes, all his subjects become unhappy. Therefore, umbrellas and vehicles and outward ornaments, and viands, and drinks, and mansions, and seats, and beds, and all utensils for use and show, should be assigned to the king. By such means the king will succeed in discharging his duties of protection (the better) and become irresistible. He should speak with smiles. Addressed sweetly by others, he should address others sweetly. Grateful (to those that serve him), firmly devoted (to those that deserve his respect), and with passions under control, he should give unto others their due. Looked upon by others he should look at them mildly, sweetly, and handsomely."'" SECTION LXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Why, O bull of Bharata's race, have the Brahmanas said that the king, that ruler of men, is a god?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, is cited the old story, O Bharata, of the discourse of Vrihaspati unto Vasumanas. There was a king of Kosala possessed of great intelligence, named Vasumanas. On a certain occasion he questioned the great sage Vrihaspati of much wisdom. Conversant with the requirements of humility, king Vasumanas, ever devoted to the welfare of all, having observed the proper humilities and having circumambulated the great sage and bowed unto him duly, enquired of the virtuous Vrihaspati about the ordinances in respect of a kingdom, moved by the desire of securing the happiness of men. "'"Vasumanas said, 'By what means do creatures grow and by what are they destroyed? O thou of great wisdom, by adoring whom do they succeed in obtaining eternal happiness?' Thus questioned by the Kosala king of immeasurable energy, Vrihaspati of great wisdom discoursed unto him coolly about the respect that should be paid to kings. "'"Vrihaspati said, 'The duties of all men, O thou of great wisdom, may be seen to have their root in the king. It is through fear of the king only that men do not devour one another. It is the king that brings peace on earth, through due observance of duties, by checking all disregard for wholesome restraints and all kinds of lust. Achieving this, he shines in glory. As, O king, all creatures become unable to see one another and sink in utter darkness if the sun and the moon do not rise, as fishes in shallow water and birds in a spot safe from danger dart and rove as they please (for a time) and repeatedly attack and grind one another with force and then meet with certain destruction, even so men sink in utter darkness and meet with destruction if they have no king to protect them, like a herd of cattle without the herdsman to look after them. If the king did not exercise the duty of protection, the strong would forcibly appropriate the possessions of the weak, and if the latter refused to surrender them with ease, their very lives would be taken. Nobody then, with reference to any article in his possession, would be able to say "This is mine." Wives, sons, food, and other kinds of property, would not then exist. Ruin would overtake everything if the king did not exercise the duty of protection. Wicked men would forcibly appropriate the vehicles and robes and ornaments and precious stones and other kinds of property belonging to others, if the king did not protect. In the absence of protection by the king, diverse kinds of weapons would fall upon those that are righteous in their practices, and unrighteousness would be adopted by all. In the absence of royal protection men would disregard or even injure their very mothers and fathers if aged, their very preceptors and guests and seniors. If the king did not protect, all persons possessed of wealth would have to encounter death, confinement, and persecution, and the very idea of property would disappear. If the king did not protect, everything would be exterminated prematurely, and every part of the country would be overrun by robbers, and everybody would fall into terrible hell. If the king did not protect, all restrictions about marriage and intercourse (due to consanguinity and other kinds of relationship) would cease; all affairs relating to agricultures and trade would fall into confusion, morality would sink and be lost; and the three Vedas would disappear. Sacrifices, duly completed with presents according to the ordinance, would no longer be performed; no marriage would take place; society itself would cease to exist, if the king did not exercise the duty of protection. The very bulls would not cover cows and milk-jars would not be churned, and men living by rearing kine would meet with destruction, if the king did not exercise the duty of protection. In the absence of royal protection, all things, inspired with fear and anxiety and becoming senseless and uttering cries of woe, would meet with destruction in no time. No sacrifices extending for a year and completed with presents according to the ordinances would occur if the king did not exercise the duty of protection. In the absence of royal protection Brahmanas would never study the four Vedas or undergo austerities or be cleansed by knowledge and rigid vows. In the absence of royal protection, the slayer of a person guilty of the slaughter of a Brahmana would not obtain any reward; on the other hand the person guilty of Brahmanicide would enjoy perfect immunity. In the absence of royal protection, men would snatch other people's wealth from their very hands, and all wholesome barriers would be swept away, and everybody, inspired with fear, would seek safety in flight. In the absence of royal protection, all kinds of injustice would set in; an intermixture of castes would take place; and famine would ravage the kingdom. In consequence again of royal protection, men can everywhere sleep fearlessly and at their ease without shutting their houses and doors with bolts and bars. Nobody would hear the evil speeches of others, far less actual assaults, if the king did not righteously protect the earth.[213] If the king exercises the duty of protection, women decked with ornament may fearlessly wander everywhere without male relatives to attend upon them. Men become righteous and without injuring serve one another because the king exercises the duty of protection. In consequence of royal protection the members of the three orders are enabled to perform high sacrifices and devote themselves to the acquisition of learning with attention. The world depends upon agriculture and trade and is protected by the Vedas. All these again are duly protected by the king exercising his principal duty. Since the king, taking a heavy load upon himself, protects his subjects with the aid of a mighty force, it is for this that the people are able to live in happiness. Who is there that will not worship him in whose existence the people exist and in whose destruction the people are destroyed? That person who does what is agreeable and beneficial to the king and who bears (a share of) the burden of kingly duties that strike every caste with fear, conquers both this and the other world.[214] That man who even thinks of doing an injury to the king, without doubt meets with grief here and goes to hell hereafter. No one should disregard the king by taking him for a man, for he is really a high divinity in human form. The king assumes five different forms according to five different occasions. He becomes Agni, Aditya, Mrityu, Vaisravana, and Yama. When the king, deceived by falsehood, burns with his fierce energy the sinful offenders before him, he is then said to assume the form of Agni. When he observes through his spies the acts of all persons and does what is for the general good, he is then said to assume the form of Aditya. When he destroys in wrath hundreds of wicked men with their sons, grandsons, and relatives, he is then said to assume the form of the Destroyer. When he restrains the wicked by inflicting upon them severe punishments and favours the righteous by bestowing rewards upon them, he is then said to assume the form of Yama. When he gratifies with profuse gifts of wealth those that have rendered him valuable services, and snatches away the wealth and precious stones of those that have offended him, indeed, when he bestows prosperity upon some and takes it away from others, he is then, O king, said to assume the form of Kuvera on earth. No person who is possessed of cleverness, who is capable of work, who desires the acquisition of virtue, and who is free from malice, should ever spread evil reports about the king. No man, by acting against the king, can ever make himself happy, even if he happens to be the king's son or brother or companion or one whom the king regards as his second self. Fire, having the wind for his urger, blazing forth (among articles that are inflammable), may leave a remnant.[215] The wrath of the king, however, leaves not anything to the person that incurs it. Whatever belongs to the king should be avoided from distance.[216] One should turn away from what belongs to the king as he would from death itself. A person by appropriating what belongs to the king speedily meets with destruction like a deer upon touching poison. The man of intelligence should protect as his own what belongs to the king. They that appropriate wealth belonging to the king sink senseless into a deep hell of eternal gloom and infamy. Who is there that will not worship the king who is adored by such terms as delighter of the people, giver of happiness, possessor of prosperity, the foremost of all, healer of injuries, lord of earth, and protector of men? That man, therefore, who desires his own prosperity, who observes all wholesome restraints, who has his soul under control, who is the master of his passions, who is possessed of intelligence and memory, and who is clever (in the transaction of business), should always be attached to the king. The king should duly honour the minister who is grateful, endued with wisdom, large-hearted, loyal, possessed of mastery over his senses, virtuous, and observant of the dictates of policy. The king should entertain the man who is loyal, grateful, virtuous, possessed of self-control, brave, magnanimous in his acts, and competent to accomplish tasks without the assistance of others. Knowledge makes men proud. The king makes men humble. The man who is afflicted by the king can never obtain happiness. On the other hand, the man who is favoured by the king becomes happy. The king is the heart of his people; he is their great refuge; he is their glory; and he is their highest happiness. Those men, O monarch, who are attached to the king, succeed in conquering both this and the other world. Having governed the earth with the aid of the qualities of self-restraint, truth, and friendship, and having adored the gods by great sacrifices, the king, earning great glory, obtains an eternal abode in heaven.' That best of monarchs, viz., the heroic Vasumanas, ruler of Kosala, thus instructed by Vrihaspati the son of Angiras, began thenceforth to protect his subjects."'" SECTION LXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "What other special duties remain for the king to discharge? How should he protect his kingdom and how subdue his foes? How should he employ his spies? How should he inspire confidence in the four orders of his subjects, his own servants, wives, and sons, O Bharata?" "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O monarch, with attention to the diverse duties of kings,--to those acts which the king or one that is in the position of a king should first do. The king should first subdue himself and then seek to subdue his foes. How should a king who has not been able to conquer his own self be able to conquer his foes? The conquest of these, viz., the aggregate of five, is regarded as the conquest of self. The king that has succeeded in subduing his senses is competent to resist his foes. He should place bodies of foot-soldiers in his forts, frontiers, towns, parks, and pleasure gardens, O delighter of the Kurus, as also in all places where he himself goes, and within his own palace, O tiger among men! He should employ as spies men looking like idiots or like those that are blind and deaf. Those should all be persons who have been thoroughly examined (in respect of their ability), who are possessed of wisdom, and who are able to endure hunger and thirst. With proper attention, the king should set his spies upon all his counsellors and friends and sons, in his city and the provinces, and in dominions of the chiefs under him. His spies should be so employed that they may not know one another. He should also, O bull of Bharata's race, know the spies of his foes by himself setting spies in shops and places of amusement, and concourses of people, among beggars, in his pleasure gardens and parks, in meetings and conclaves of the learned, in the country, in public places, in places where he holds his own court, and in the houses of the citizens. The king possessed of intelligence may thus ascertain the spies despatched by his foes. If these be known, the king may derive much benefit, O son of Pandu! When the king, by a survey of his own, finds himself weak, he should then, consulting with his counsellors make peace with a foe that is stronger. The king that is wise should speedily make peace with a foe, even when he knows that he is not weak, if any advantage is to be derived from it. Engaged in protecting his kingdom with righteousness, the king should make peace with those that are possessed of every accomplishment, capable of great exertion, virtuous, and honest. When the king finds himself threatened with danger and about to be overtaken by ruin, he should slay all offenders whom he had overlooked before and all such persons as are pointed at by the people. A king should have nothing to do with that person who can neither benefit nor injure him, or with one who cannot rescue himself from distress. As regards military operations a king who is confident of his own strength, should, at the head of a large force, cheerfully and with courage give the order to march, without proclaiming his destination against one destitute of allies and friends or already at war with another and (therefore) heedless (of danger from other quarters), or one weaker than himself, having first made arrangements for the protection of his own capital.[217] A king should not for ever live in subjection to another possessed of greater prowess. Though weak, he should seek to afflict the stronger, and resolved upon this, continue to rule his own.[218] He should afflict the kingdom of the stronger one by means of weapons, fire and application of poison. He should also cause dissensions amongst his counsellors and servants. Vrihaspati has said that a king possessed of intelligence should always avoid war for acquisition of territory. The acquisition of dominion should be made by the three well-known means (of conciliation, gift, and disunion). The king that is possessed of wisdom should be gratified with those acquisitions that are made by means of conciliation, gift, and disunion. The king, O delighter of the Kurus, should take a sixth of the incomes of his subjects as tribute for meeting the expenses of protecting them. He should also forcibly take away wealth, much or little (as the case may require), from the ten kinds of offenders mentioned in the scriptures, for the protection of his subjects. A king should, without doubt, look upon his subjects as his own children. In determining their disputes, however, he should not show compassion. For hearing the complaints and answers of disputants in judicial suits, the king should always appoint persons possessed of wisdom and a knowledge of the affairs of the world, for the state really rests upon a proper administration of justice. The king should set honest and trustworthy men over his mines, salt, grain, ferries, and elephant corps. The king who always wields with propriety the rod of chastisement earns great merit. The proper regulation of chastisement is the high duty of kings and deserves great applause. The king should be conversant with the Vedas and their branches, possessed of wisdom, engaged in penances, charitable, and devoted to the performance of sacrifices. All these qualities should permanently reside in a king. If the king fails to administer justice, he can neither have heaven nor fame. If a king be afflicted by a stronger one, the former, if possessed of intelligence, should seek refuge in a fort. Assembling his friends for consultation, he should devise proper means. Adopting the policy of conciliation and of producing dissensions, he should devise means for waging war with the assailant. He should set the inhabitants of the woods on the high roads, and, if necessary, cause whole villages to be removed, transplanting all the inhabitants to minor towns or the outskirts of great cities. Repeatedly assuring his wealthy subjects and the principal officers of the army, he should cause the inhabitants of the open country to take refuge in such forts as are well-protected. He should himself withdraw all stores of grain (from the open country into his forts). If that becomes impossible, he should destroy them completely by fire. He should set men for destroying the crops on the fields of the enemy (by producing disunion among the enemy's subjects). Failing to do this, he should destroy those crops by means of his own troops. He should destroy all the bridges over the rivers in his kingdom. He should bale out the waters of all the tanks in his dominions, or, if incapable of baling them out, cause them to be poisoned. Disregarding the duty of protecting his friends, he should, in view of both present and future circumstances, seek the protection of the ruler of another kingdom who may happen to be the foe of his foe and who may be competent to deal with his foe on the field of battle.[219] He should destroy all the smaller forts in his kingdom. He should also cut down all the smaller trees excepting those that are called Chaitya.[220] He should cause the branches of all the larger trees to be lopped off, but he should not touch the very leaves of those called Chaitya. He should raise outer ramparts round his forts, with enclosures in them, and fill his trenches with water, driving pointed stakes at their bottom and filling them with crocodiles and sharks. He should keep small openings in his walls for making sallies from his fort, and carefully make arrangements for their defence like that of the greater gates.[221] In all his gates he should plant destructive engines. He should plant on the ramparts (of his forts) Sataghnis and other weapons. He should store wood for fuel and dig and repair wells for supply of water to the garrison. He should cause all houses made of grass and straw to be plastered over with mud, and if it is the summer month, he should, from fear of fire, withdraw (into a place of safety) all the stores of grass and straw. He should order all food to be cooked at night. No fire should be ignited during the day, except for the daily homa. Particular care should be taken of the fires in smithies and lying-in rooms. Fires kept within the houses of the inhabitants should be well covered. For the effectual protection of the city, it should be proclaimed that condign punishment will overtake the person who lights fires by the day time. During such times, all beggars, eunuchs, lunatics, and mimes, should, O foremost of men, be driven out of the town, for if they are permitted to remain, evil will follow. In places of public resort, in tirthas, in assemblies, and in the houses of the citizens, the king should set competent spies.[222] The king should cause wide roads to be constructed and order shops, and places for the distribution of water, to be opened at proper stations. Depots (of diverse necessaries), arsenals, camps and quarters for soldiers, stations for the keeping of horses and elephants, encampments of soldiers, trenches, streets and bypaths, houses and gardens for retirement and pleasure, should be so ordered that their sites may not be known to others, O Yudhishthira. A king who is afflicted by a hostile army should gather wealth, and store oil and fat and honey, and clarified butter, and medicines of all kinds, and charcoal and munja grass, leaves, arrows, scribes and draftsmen, grass, fuel, poisoned arrows, weapons of every kind such as darts, swords, lances, and others. The king should store such articles. He should especially keep ready drugs of every kind, roots and fruits, the four kinds of physicians, actors and dancers, athletes, and persons capable of assuming diverse disguises. He should decorate his capital and gladden all his subjects. The king should lose no time in bringing under his control such persons as may happen to inspire him with fear, be they his servants or counsellors or citizens or neighbouring monarchs. After any task of the king has been accomplished, he should reward that those that have aided in its accomplishment with wealth and other proportionate gifts and thankful speeches. It has been laid down in the scriptures, O delighter of the Kurus, that a king pays off his debt when he discomfits his foe or slays him outright.[223] A king should take care of seven things. Listen to me as I recite them. They are his own self, his counsellors, his treasury, his machinery for awarding punishments, his friends, his provinces, and his capital. He should with care protect his kingdom which consists of these seven limbs. That king, O tiger among men, who is conversant with the aggregate of six, the triple aggregate, and the high aggregate of three, succeeds in winning the sovereignty of the whole earth. Listen, O Yudhishthira, to what has been called the aggregate of six. These are ruling in peace after concluding a treaty (with the foe), marching to battle, producing disunion among the foe, concentration of forces, for inspiring the foe with fear, preparedness for war with readiness for peace, and alliance with others. Listen now with attention to what has been called the triple aggregate. They are decrease, maintenance of what is, and growth. The high aggregate of three consists of Virtue, Profit and Pleasure. These should be pursued judiciously. By the aid of virtue, a king succeeds in ruling the earth for ever. Touching this matter, Angirasa's son: Vrihaspati himself has sung two verses. Blessed be thou, O son of Devaki, it behoveth thee to hear them. 'Having discharged all his duties and having protected the earth, and having also protected his cities, a king attains to great happiness in heaven. What are penances to that king, and what need has he of sacrifices who protects his people properly? Such a king should be regarded as one conversant with every virtue!'" "'Yudhishthira said, "There is the science of chastisement, there is the king, and there are the subjects. Tell me, O grandsire, what advantage is derived by one of these from the others." "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me, O king, as I describe, O Bharata, the great blessedness of the science of chastisement, in sacred words of grave import. The science of chastisement forces all men to the observance of the duties of their respective orders. Duly administered, it forces people to virtuous acts.[224] When the four orders attend to their respective duties, when all wholesome barriers are maintained, when peace and happiness are made to flow from the science of chastisement, when the people become freed from all fear, and the three higher orders endeavour, according to their respective duties, to maintain harmony, know that men become truly happy at such times. Whether it is the king that makes the age, or, it is the age that makes the king, is a question about which thou shouldst not entertain any doubt. The truth is that the king makes the age. When the king rules with a complete and strict reliance on the science of chastisement, the foremost of ages called Krita is then said to set in.[225] Righteousness sets in the Krita age. Nothing of unrighteousness exists then. The hearts of men belonging to all the four orders do not take any pleasure in unrighteousness. Without doubt, all men succeed in acquiring the objects they desire and preserving those that have been acquired. All the Vedic rites become productive of merit. All the seasons become delightful and free from evil. The voice, pronunciation, and minds of all men become clear and cheerful. Diseases disappear and all men become long-lived. Wives do not become widows, and no person becomes a miser. The earth yields crops without being tilled, and herbs and plants grow in luxuriance. Barks, leaves, fruits, and roots, become vigorous and abundant. No unrighteousness is seen. Nothing but righteousness exists. Know these to be the characteristics, O Yudhishthira, of the Krita age. When the king relies upon only three of the four parts of the science of chastisement leaving out a fourth, the age called Treta sets in. A fourth part of unrighteousness follows in the train of such observance (of the great science) by three-fourths. The earth yields crops but waits for tillage. The herbs and plants grow (depending upon tillage). When the king observes the great science by only a half, leaving out the other half, then the age that sets in is called Dwapara. A moiety of unrighteousness follows in the train of such observance of the great science by half. The earth requires tillage and yields crops by half. When the king, abandoning the great science totally, oppresses his subjects by evil means of diverse kinds, the age that sets in is called Kali. During the age called Kali, unrighteousness becomes full and nothing of righteousness is seen. The hearts of men, of all the orders, fall away from their respective duties. Sudras live by adopting lives of mendicancy, and Brahmanas live by serving others. Men fail to acquire the objects they desire and preserve those already acquired. Intermixture of the four orders takes place. Vedic rites fail to produce fruits. All the seasons cease to be delightful and become fraught with evil. The voice, pronunciation, and minds of men lose vigour. Diseases appear, and men die prematurely. Wives become widows, and many cruel men are seen. The clouds do not pour seasonably, and crops fail. All kinds of moisture also fail, when the king does not, with proper attention to the great science, protect the subjects. The king is the creator of the Krita age, of the Treta, and of the Dwapara. The king is the cause of the fourth age (called Kali). If he causes the Krita age, he attains to everlasting heaven. If he causes the Treta age, he acquires heaven for a period that is limited. If he causes the Dwapara, he attains to blessedness in heaven according to the measure of his merits. By causing the Kali age, the king incurs a heavy load of sin. Stained by wickedness, he rots in hell for innumerable years, for sinking in the sins of his subjects, he incurs great sin and infamy himself. Keeping the great science in his view, the Kshatriya possessed of learning should strive to acquire those objects which he desires and protect those that have been already acquired. The science of chastisement, which establishes all men in the observance of their respective duties, which is the groundwork of all wholesome distinctions, and which truly upholds the world and sets it agoing, if properly administered, protects all men like the mother and the father protecting their children. Know, O bull among men, that the very lives of creatures depend upon it. The highest merit a king can acquire is acquaintance with the science of chastisement and administering it properly. Therefore, O thou of Kuru's race, protect thy subjects righteously, with the aid of that great science. By protecting the subjects and adopting such a conduct, thou wilt surely attain to such blessedness in heaven as is difficult of acquisition."'" SECTION LXX "'Yudhishthira said, "By adopting that conduct, O thou that art conversant with every kind of behaviour, can a king succeed in easily acquiring, both here and hereafter, objects productive of happiness in the end?" "'Bhishma said, "There are these thirty-six virtues (which a king should observe). They are connected with thirty-six others. A virtuous person, by attending to those qualities, can certainly acquire great merit. The king should observe his duties without wrath and malice. He should not abandon kindness. He should have faith. He should acquire wealth without persecution and cruelty. He should pursue pleasure without attachments. He should, with cheerfulness, utter what is the agreeable, and be brave without brag. He should be liberal but should not make gifts to persons that are unobserving. He should have prowess without cruelty. He should make alliance, avoiding those that are wicked. He should not act with hostility towards friends. He should never employ persons not devoted to him as his spies and secret agents. He should never accomplish his objects by persecution. He should never disclose his purposes before persons that are wicked. He should speak of the merits of others but never his own. He should take wealth from his subjects but never from those that are good. He should never employ or take the assistance of persons that are wicked. He should never inflict punishment without careful enquiry. He should never disclose his counsels. He should give away, but not to persons that are covetous. He should repose confidence on others but never on those that have injured him. He should not cherish malice. He should protect his wedded wives. He should be pure and should not always be melted by compassion. He should not indulge much in female companionship. He should take food that is wholesome and never that which is otherwise. He should without pride pay regards to those that deserve them, and serve his preceptors and seniors with sincerity. He should worship the gods without pride. He should seek prosperity, but never do anything that brings infamy. He should wait (upon his seniors) with humility. He should be clever in business but should always wait for the proper time. He should comfort men and never send them away with empty speeches. Having favoured a person, he should not abandon him. He should never strike in ignorance. Having slain his foe he should never indulge in sorrow. He should display temper, but should never do so when there is no occasion. He should be mild, but never to those that have offended. Conduct thyself thus while ruling thy kingdom if thou wishest to have prosperity. The king that behaves otherwise incurs great danger. That king who observes all these virtues that I have mentioned, reaps many blessings on earth and great rewards in heaven."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Santanu's son, king Yudhishthira, docile in receiving instructions, possessed of great intelligence, and protected by Bhima and others, then worshipped his grandsire and from that time began to rule according to that teaching.'" SECTION LXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grand sire, in what way should the king protect his subjects so as to be able to avoid grief and so as not to offend against righteousness?" "'Bhishma said, "I shall recite, O king, those eternal duties in brief, for if I were to mention them in detail, I would never attain to their end. Thou shouldst worship those Brahmanas that are devoted to their duties, possessed of learning, regular in worshipping the gods, observant of high vows, and endued with other accomplishments, when they come to thy abode, and employ them in officiating in thy sacrifices. With thy priest accompanying thee, thou shouldst rise up when they approach, and touch and worship their feet, and do every other act that is necessary. Doing these acts of piety and discharging other acts that are for thy own good, thou shouldst (by presents) cause those Brahmanas to utter benedictions on thee for the success of thy purposes. Endued with sincerity, and wisdom and intelligence, O Bharata, thou shouldst adopt truth and avoid lust and wrath. That foolish king who pursues Profit without driving away lust and wrath, fails to acquire virtue and ultimately sacrifices Profit as well. Never employ those that are covetous and foolish in matters connected with Pleasure and Profit. Thou shouldst always employ in all thy acts those that are free from covetousness and possessed of intelligence. Stained with lust and wrath and unskilled in the transaction of business foolish persons, if vested with authority in matters of Profit, always oppress the people by diverse contrivances productive of mischief. With a sixth part upon fair calculation, of the yield of the soil as his tribute, with fines and forfeitures levied upon offenders, with the imposts, according to the scriptures, upon merchants and traders in return for the protection granted to them, a king should fill his treasury.[226] Realising this just tribute and governing the kingdom properly the king should, with heedfulness, act in such a way that his subjects may not feel the pressure of want. Men become deeply devoted to that king who discharges the duty of protection properly, who is endued with liberality, who is steady in the observance of righteousness, who is vigilant, and who is free from lust and hate. Never desire to fill thy treasury by acting unrighteously or from covetousness. That king who does not act in accordance with the scriptures fails to earn wealth and religious merit. That king who is mindful only of the means of acquiring wealth, never succeeds in acquiring both religious merit and wealth. The wealth again that he acquires (by such means) is seen to be lavished on unworthy objects.[227] That avaricious king who through folly oppresses his subjects by levying taxes not sanctioned by the scriptures, is said to wrong his own self. As a person desirous of milk never obtains any by cutting off the udders of a cow, similarly a kingdom afflicted by improper means, never yields any profit to the king.[228] He who treats a milch cow with tenderness always obtains milk from it. Similarly, the king who rules his kingdom by the aid of proper means, reaps much fruit from it. By protecting a kingdom properly and ruling it by the aid of judicious means, a king, O Yudhishthira, may succeed in always obtaining much wealth. The earth, well protected by the king, yields crops and gold (to the ruler and the ruled) even like a gratified mother yielding milk to her child. Imitate the example, O king, of the flowerman and not of the charcoal-maker. Becoming such and discharging the duty of protection, thou mayst be able to enjoy the earth for ever.[229] If in attacking an enemy's kingdom thy treasury becomes exhausted, thou mayst refill it by taking wealth from all except Brahmanas. Let not thy heart be moved, even when thou art in great distress, upon seeing Brahmanas possessed of wealth. I need not speak then of what thou shouldst do when thou art in affluence. Thou shouldst give them wealth to the best of thy power and as they deserve and protect them, comforting them on all occasions. By conducting thyself in this way, thou mayst acquire such regions hereafter as are most difficult of acquisition. Adopting such virtuous behaviour, do thou protect thy subjects. Thou mayst then obtain, O delighter of the Kurus, fame that is everlasting, high, and pure. Protect thy subjects righteously, O son of Pandu, for no regret or pain will then be thine. Protection of the subject is the highest duty of the king, since compassion to all creatures and protecting them from injury has been said to be the highest merit. Persons conversant with duties regard that to be the highest merit of the king, when, engaged in protecting all creatures, the king displays compassion towards them. The sin a king incurs by neglecting for a single day to protect his subjects from fear is such that he does not attain to end of his sufferings (for it) in hell till after a thousand years. The merit a king earns by protecting his subjects righteously for a single day is such that he enjoys its reward in heaven for ten thousand years. All those regions that are acquired by persons leading duly the Garhasthya, the Brahmacharya, and the Vanaprastha modes of life, are soon acquired by a king by only protecting his subjects righteously. Do thou, O son of Kunti, observe with great care this duty (of protection). Thou shalt then obtain the reward of righteousness and no grief and pain will be thine. Thou shalt, O son of Pandu, obtain great prosperity in heaven. Merit like this is impossible to be acquired by persons that are not kings. A person, therefore, who is a king, and no other, can succeed in earning such reward of virtue. Possessed of intelligence, thou hast obtained a kingdom. Do thou protect thy subjects righteously. Gratify Indra with offerings of Soma and the friends and well-wishers with the objects of their wishes."'" SECTION LXXII "'Bhishma said, "That person, O king, who would protect the good and punish the wicked, should be appointed as his priest by the king. In this connection is cited the old story about the discourse between Pururavas, the son of Aila and Matariswan. "'"Pururavas said, 'Whence has the Brahmana sprung and whence the three other orders? For what reason also has the Brahmana become the foremost? It behoveth thee to tell me all this.' "'"Matariswan answered, 'The Brahmana, O best of kings, has sprung from the mouth of Brahman. The Kshatriya has sprung from his two arms, and the Vaisya from his two thighs. For waiting upon these three orders, O ruler of men, a fourth order, viz., the Sudra, sprung into life, being created from the feet (of Brahman). Originally created thus, the Brahmana takes birth on earth as the lord of all creatures, his duty being the keep of the Vedas and the other scriptures.[230] Then, for ruling the earth and wielding the rod of chastisement and protecting all creatures, the second order, viz., the Kshatriya was created. The Vaisya was created for supporting the two other orders and himself by cultivation and trade, and finally, it was ordained by Brahman that the Sudra should serve the three orders as a menial.' "'"Pururavas said, 'Tell me truly, O god of Winds, to whom, this earth righteously belong. Does it belong to the Brahmana or to the Kshatriya?' "'"The god of Winds said, 'Everything that exists in the universe belongs to the Brahmana in consequence of his birth and precedence. Persons conversant with morality say this. What the Brahmana eats is his own. The place he inhabits is his own. What he gives away is his own. He deserves the veneration of all the (other) orders. He is the first-born and the foremost. As a woman, in the absence of her husband, accepts his younger brother for him, even so the earth, in consequence of the refusal of the Brahmana, has accepted his next-born, viz., the Kshatriya, for her lord. This is the first rule. In times, however, of distress, there is an exception of this. If thou seekest to discharge the duties of the order and wishest to obtain the highest place in heaven, then give unto the Brahmana all the land thou mayst succeed in conquering, unto him that is possessed of learning and virtuous conduct, that is conversant with duties and observant of penances, that is satisfied with the duties of his order and not covetous of wealth. The well-born Brahmana, possessed of wisdom and humility, guides the king in every matter by his own great intelligence. By means of sound counsels he causes the king to earn prosperity. The Brahmana points out to the king the duties the latter is to observe. As long as a wise king, observant of the duties of his order, and bereft of pride, is desirous of listening to the instructions of the Brahmana, so long is he honoured and so long does he enjoy fame. The priest of the king, therefore, has a share in the merit that the king acquires. When the king behaves himself thus, all his subjects, relying upon him, become virtuous in their behaviour, attentive to their duties, and freed from every fear. The king obtains a fourth part of those righteous acts which his subjects, properly protected by him, perform in his kingdom. The gods, men, Pitris, Gandharvas, Uragas, and Rakshasas, all depend upon sacrifices for their support. In a country destitute of a king, there can be no sacrifice. The gods and the Pitris subsist on the offerings made in sacrifices. Sacrifice, however, depends upon the king. In the season of summer, men desire comfort from the shade of trees, cool water, and cool breezes. In the season of winter they derive comfort from fire, warm clothes, and the sun. The heart of man may find pleasure in sound, touch, taste, vision, and scent. The man, however, who is inspired with fear, finds no pleasure in all these things. That person who dispels the fears of men obtains great merit. There is no gift so valuable in the three worlds as the gift of life. The king is Indra. The king is Yama. The king is Dharma. The king assumes different forms. The king sustains and supports everything.'"'" SECTION LXXIII "'Bhishma said, "The king, with an eye to both religious merit and profit whose considerations are often very intricate, should, without delay, appoint a priest possessed of learning and intimate acquaintance with the Vedas and the (other) scriptures. Those kings that have priests possessed of virtuous souls and conversant with policy, and that are themselves possessed of such attributes, enjoy prosperity in every direction. Both the priest and the king should have such qualities as are worthy of regard and should be observant of vows and penances. They would then succeed in supporting and aggrandising the subjects and the deities, the Pitris and the children.[231] It is laid down that they should be possessed of similar hearts and should be each other's friends. In consequence of such friendship between Brahmana and Kshatriya, the subjects become happy. If they do not regard each other, destruction would overtake the people. The Brahmana and the Kshatriya are said to be the progenitors of all men. In this connection is cited the old story about the discourse between Aila's son and Kasyapa. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira. "'"Aila said, 'When the Brahmana forsakes the Kshatriya or the Kshatriya forsakes the Brahmana, who amongst them should be regarded superior and upon whom do the other orders rely and maintain themselves?' "'"Kasyapa said, 'Ruin overtakes the kingdom of the Kshatriya when the Brahmana and Kshatriya contend with each other. Robbers infest that kingdom in which confusion prevails, and all good men regard the ruler to be a Mlechcha. Their oxen do not thrive, nor their children. Their pots (of milk) are not churned, and no sacrifices are performed there. The children do not study the Vedas in kingdoms where Brahmanas abandon Kshatriyas. In their houses wealth does not increase. Their children do not become good and do not study the scriptures and perform sacrifices. Those Kshatriyas that abandon Brahmanas become impure in blood and assume the nature of robbers. The Brahmana and the Kshatriya are connected with each other naturally, and each protects the other. The Kshatriya is the cause of the Brahmana's growth and the Brahmana is the cause of the Kshatriya's growth. When each helps the other, both attain to great prosperity. If their friendship, existing from days of old, breaks, a confusion sets over everything. No person desirous of crossing the ocean of life succeeds in his task even as a small boat floating on the bosom of the sea. The four orders of men become confounded and destruction overtakes all. If the Brahmana, who is like a tree is protected, gold and honey are showered. If, on the other hand, he is not protected, it then tears and sins are showered. When Brahmanas fall away from the Vedas and (in the absence of a Kshatriya ruler) seek protection from the scriptures, then Indra does not pour rain seasonably and diverse kinds of calamities ceaselessly afflict the kingdom. When a sinful wretch having slain a woman or a Brahmana does not incur obloquy in assemblies of fellowmen and has not to stand in fear of the king, then danger threatens the Kshatriya ruler. In consequence of the sins perpetrated by sinful men, the god Rudra appears in the kingdom. Indeed, the sinful by their sins bring upon them that god of vengeance. He then destroys all, the honest and the wicked alike (without making any distinction).' "'"Aila said, 'Whence does Rudra spring? What also is his form? Creatures are seen to be destroyed by creatures. Tell me all this, O Kasyapa! Whence does the god Rudra spring?' "'"Kasyapa said, 'Rudra exists in the hearts of men. He destroys the bodies themselves in which he dwells as also the bodies of others. Rudra has been said to be like atmospheric visitations and his form is like that of the wind-gods.' "'"Aila said, 'The Wind does not, by blowing, visibly destroy men on all occasions, nor does the deity of the clouds do so by pouring rain. On the other hand, it is seen among men that they lose their senses and are slain through lust and malice.' "'"Kasyapa said, 'Fire, blazing forth in one house, burneth a whole quarter or an entire village. Similarly, this deity stupefies the senses of some one and then that stupefaction touches all, the honest and the wicked alike, without any distinction.' "'"Aila said, 'If chastisement touches all viz., the honest and the wicked alike, in consequence of the sins perpetrated by the sinful, why should men, in that case, do acts that are good? Indeed, why should they not perform wicked acts?' "'"Kasyapa said, 'By avoiding all connection with the sinful, one becomes pure and stainless. In consequence, however, of their being mixed with the sinful, the sinless are overtaken by chastisement. Wood that is wet, if mixed with wood that is dry, is consumed by fire in consequence of such co-existence. The sinless, therefore, should never mingle with the sinful.' "'"Aila said, 'The earth holds the honest and the wicked. The sun warms the honest and the wicked. The wind blows equally for them. Water cleanses them equally.' "'"Kasyapa said, 'Such, indeed, is the course of this world, O prince! It is not so, however, hereafter. In the other world, there is great difference of condition between the person that acts righteously and him that acts sinfully. The regions that meritorious men acquire are full of honey and possessed of the splendour of gold or of a fire upon which clarified butter has been poured. Those regions also are likened to the navel of ambrosia. The meritorious person enjoys great felicity there. Death, decrepitude, and sorrow, are not there. The region for the sinful is hell. Darkness and ceaseless pain are there, and it is full of sorrow. Sinking in infamy, the man of sinful deeds wrung with remorse there for many years. In consequence of a disunion between Brahmanas and Kshatriyas, unbearable griefs afflict the people. Knowing this, a king should appoint a (Brahmana) priest possessed of experience and wide knowledge. A king should first install the priest in his office, and then cause his own coronation. This has been laid down in the ordinance. The ordinances declare that the Brahmana is the foremost of all creatures. Men acquainted with the Vedas say that the Brahmana was created first. In consequence of the precedence of his birth, all things that are good in this world are vested in him. The rightful owner of all the best things that have flowed from the Creator, the Brahmana is also, for such precedence, worthy of the respect and the worship of all creatures. A king, however powerful, should, according to the dictates of the scriptures, bestow upon the Brahmana whatever is best and distinguished above others. The Brahmana contributes to the aggrandisement of the Kshatriya, and the Kshatriya to the aggrandisement of the Brahmana. Brahmanas should, therefore, be especially and always worshipped by kings.'"'" SECTION LXXIV "'Bhishma said, "It is said that the preservation and growth of the kingdom rest upon the king. The preservation and growth of the king rest upon the king's priest. That kingdom enjoys true felicity where the invisible fears of the subjects are dispelled by the Brahmana and all visible fears are dispelled by the king with the might of his arms. In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between king Muchukunda and Vaisravana. King Muchukunda, having subjugated the whole earth, repaired to the lord of Alaka for testing his strength. King Vaisravana created (by ascetic power) a large force of Rakshasas. These ground the forces led by Muchukunda. Beholding the slaughter of his army, king Muchukunda, O chastiser of foes, began to rebuke his own learned priest (Vasishtha). Thereupon that foremost of righteous persons viz., Vasishtha, underwent very severe penances and, causing those Rakshasas to be slain, ascertained the true course upon which Muchukunda was bent. When king Vaisravana's troops were being slaughtered, he showed himself unto Muchukunda and said these words. "'"The Lord of treasures said, 'Many kings of old, more powerful than thou art, aided by their priests, had never approached me thus. All of them were skilled in weapons and all of them were possessed of might. Regarding me as the grantor of weal and woe, they approached me for offering worship. In truth, if thou hast might of arms, it behoves thee to display it. Why dost thou act so proudly, aided by Brahmana might?' Enraged at these words, Muchukunda, without pride and fear, said unto the lord of treasures these words fraught with reason and justice, 'The self-born Brahman created the Brahmana and the Kshatriya. They have a common origin. If they apply their forces separately, they would never be able to uphold the world. The power of penances and mantras was bestowed upon Brahmanas; the might of arms and of weapons was bestowed upon Kshatriyas. Aggrandised by both kinds of might, kings should protect their subjects. I am acting in that way. Why dost thou, O lord of Alaka, rebuke me then?' Thus addressed, Vaisravana said unto Muchukunda and his priest, 'I never, without being ordered by the (self-created) bestow sovereignty upon any one. Nor do I ever, without being ordered, take it away from any one. Know this, O king! Do thou rule then the whole earth without bounds.' Thus addressed, king Muchukunda replied, saying, 'I do not, O king, desire to enjoy sovereignty obtained as gift from thee! I desire to enjoy sovereignty obtained by the might of my own arms.'" "'Bhishma continued, "At these words of Muchukunda, Vaisravana, seeing the king fearless in the observance of Kshatriya duties, became filled with surprise. King Muchukunda, devoted to Kshatriya duties, continued to rule the entire earth obtained by the might of his own arms. That virtuous king who rules his kingdom, aided by and yielding precedence to the Brahmana, succeeds in subjugating the whole earth and achieving great fame. The Brahmana should every day perform his religious rites and the Kshatriya should always be armed with weapons. Between them they are the rightful owners of everything in the universe."'" SECTION LXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, that conduct by which a king succeeds in aggrandising his subjects and earning regions of felicity in the other world." "'Bhishma said, "The king should be liberal and should perform sacrifices, O Bharata! He should be observant of vows and penances, and should be devoted to the duty of protecting his subjects. Righteously protecting all his subjects, he should honour all righteous persons by standing up when they come and by making gifts unto them. If the king regards it, righteousness becomes regarded everywhere. Whatever acts and things are liked by the king are liked by his subjects. Unto his foes the king should always be like Death, with the rod of chastisement uplifted in his hands. He should exterminate robbers everywhere in his kingdom and never pardon any one from caprice. The king, O Bharata, earns a fourth part of the merit that his subjects earn under his protection. By only protecting his subjects the king acquires a fourth part of the merit that his subjects acquire by study, by gifts, by pouring libations, and by worshipping the gods. The king acquires a fourth part also of the sin that his subjects commit in consequence of any distress in the kingdom arising from the king's neglect in discharging the duty of protection. Some say that the king earns a moiety, and some say the full measure, of whatever sin is caused by his becoming cruel and untruthful in speech. Listen now to the means by which the king may be cleansed of such sins. If the king fails to restore to a subject the wealth that has been stolen away by thieves, he should then compensate the injured from his own treasury, or, in case of inability, with wealth obtained from his dependents. All the orders should protect the wealth of a Brahmana even as they should the Brahmana's boy or life. The person that offends against Brahmanas should be exiled from the kingdom. Everything is protected by protecting the Brahmana's wealth. Through the grace of the Brahmana, which may thus be secured, the king becomes crowned with success. Men seek the protection of a competent king like creatures seeking relief from the clouds or birds seeking refuge in a large tree. A cruel and covetous king, with lustful soul and ever seeking the gratification of his desire never succeeds in protecting his subjects." "'Yudhishthira said, "I do not, for a moment, desire the happiness that sovereignty bestows or sovereignty itself for its own sake. I desire it, however, for the sake of the merit one may acquire from it. It seems to me that no merit is attached to it. No need for sovereignty then by which no merit can be acquired. I shall, therefore, retire into the woods from desire of earning merit. Laying aside the rod of chastisement, and subduing my senses, I shall go to the woods which are sacred and seek to acquire the merit of righteousness by becoming an ascetic subsisting upon fruit and roots." "'Bhishma said, "I know, O Yudhishthira, what the nature of thy heart is, and how inoffensive is thy disposition. Thou wilt not, however, by inoffensiveness alone, succeed in ruling thy kingdom. Thy heart is inclined to mildness, thou art compassionate, and thou art exceedingly righteous. Thou art without energy, and thou art virtuous and full of mercy. People, therefore, do not regard thee much. Follow the conduct of thy sire and grandsire. Kings should never adopt that conduct which thou desirest to adopt. Never be touched by such anxiety (after doing thy duty), and never adopt such inoffensiveness of conduct. By becoming so, thou wouldst not succeed in earning that merit of righteousness which arises from protecting subjects. The behaviour thou wishest to adopt, impelled by thy own intelligence and wisdom, is not consistent with those blessings which thy sire Pandu or thy mother Kunti used to solicit for thee. Thy sire always solicited for thee courage, might, and truth. Kunti always solicited for thee high-mindedness and liberality. The offerings with Swaha and Swadha in Sraddhas and sacrifices are always asked from children by the Pitris and the deities. Whether gifts and study and sacrifices and the protection of subjects be meritorious or sinful, thou hast been born to practise and perform them. The fame, O son of Kunti, is never tarnished of men that even fail in bearing the burdens which are placed on them and unto which they are yoked in life. Even a horse, if properly trained, succeeds in bearing, without falling down, a burden. (What need then be said of thee that art a human being?) One incurs no censure if only one's acts and words be proper, for success is said to depend upon acts (and words). No person, be he a man virtuously following the domestic mode of life, or be he a king, or be he a Brahmacharin, has ever succeeded in conducting himself without tripping. It is better to do an act which is good and in which there is small merit than to totally abstain from all acts, for total abstention from acts is very sinful. When a high-born and righteous person succeeds in obtaining affluence, the king then succeeds in obtaining prosperity in all his affairs. A virtuous king, having obtained a kingdom, should seek to subdue some by gifts, some by force, and some by sweet words. There is no one more virtuous than he upon whom high-born and learned persons rely from fear of losing their means of sustenance and depending upon whom they live in contentment." "'Yudhishthira said, "What acts, O sire, are conductive to heaven? What is the nature of the great felicity that is derived from them? What also is the high prosperity that may be obtained thence? Tell me all this, if thou knowest." "'Bhishma said, "That man from whom a person afflicted with fear obtains relief even for a moment, is the most worthy of heaven amongst us. This that I tell thee is very true. Be thou cheerfully the king of the Kurus, O foremost one of Kuru's race, acquire heaven, protect the good and slay the wicked. Let thy friends, together with all honest men, derive their support from thee, like all creatures from the deity of the clouds and like birds from a large tree with delicious fruits. Men seek the protection of that person who is dignified, courageous, capable of smiting, compassionate, with senses under control, affectionate towards all, and equitable, and just."'" SECTION LXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, amongst Brahmanas some are engaged in the duties proper to their order, while others are engaged in other duties. Tell me the difference between these two classes!" "'Bhishma said, "Those Brahmanas, O king, that are possessed of learning and beneficent features, and that look upon all creatures with an equal eye, are said to be equal to Brahma. They that are conversant with the Riches, the Yajuses and the Samans, and who are devoted to the practices of their order, are, O king, equal to the very gods. Those, however, amongst them that are not well-born and not devoted to the duties of their order, and are besides wedded to evil practices, are like Sudras. A virtuous king should realise tribute from and impress without pay into the public service those Brahmanas that are not possessed of Vedic lore and that have not their own fires to worship. They that are employed in courts of justice for summoning people, they that perform worship for others for a fee, they that perform the sacrifices of Vaisyas and Sudras, they that officiate in sacrifices on behalf of a whole village, and they that make voyages on the ocean,--these five are regarded as Chandalas among Brahmanas.[232] They amongst them that become Ritwikas, Purohitas, counsellors, envoys, and messengers, become, O king, equal to Kshatriyas.[233] They amongst them that ride horses or elephants or cars or become foot-soldiers, become, O king, equal to Vaisyas. If the king's treasury is not full, he may realise tribute from these. In realising tribute, the king, however, should exclude those Brahmanas that are (for their conduct) equal to the gods or Brahma. The Vedas say that the king is the lord of the wealth belonging to all the orders except Brahmanas. He can take the wealth of those Brahmanas also that have fallen away from their legitimate duties. The king should never be indifferent towards those Brahmanas that are not observant of their duties. For the sake of making his people virtuous, he should punish and separate them from their superiors. That king, O monarch, in whose territories a Brahmana becomes a thief, is regarded by the learned to be the author of that misdeed. Persons conversant with the Vedas declare that if a Brahmana versed in the Vedas and observant of vows becomes, through want of sustenance, a thief, it is the duty of the king to provide for his support. If, after provision has been made for his support, he does not abstain from theft he should then, O scorcher of foes be banished from the kingdom with all his kinsmen."'" SECTION LXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Of whose wealth, O bull of Bharata's race, is the king regarded to be the lord? And what conduct also should the king adopt? Discourse to me on this, O grandsire." "'Bhishma said, "The Vedas declare that the king is the lord of the wealth that belongs to all persons except Brahmanas, as also of those Brahmanas that are not observant of their proper duties. The king should not spare those Brahmanas that are not observant of their duties. The righteous say that this is the ancient custom of kings. That king, O monarch, in whose dominion a Brahmana becomes a thief, is regarded to be the author of that misdeed. It is the king that becomes sinful on that account. In consequence of such a circumstance, kings regard themselves to be worthy of reproach. All righteous kings, therefore, provide Brahmanas with the means of support. In this connection is cited the old narrative of the speech made by the king of the Kaikeyas unto a Rakshasa while the latter was about to abduct him away. Of rigid vows and possessed of Vedic lore, the king of the Kaikeyas, O monarch, while living in the woods, was forcibly seized on a certain occasion by a Rakshasa. "'"The king said, 'There is no thief in my territories, nor any person of wicked behaviour, nor any one that drinks alcohol. There is no one in my dominions who has not his sacred fire or who does not perform sacrifices. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? There is no Brahmana in my dominions who is not possessed of learning or who is not observant of vows or who has not drunk Soma. There is no one who has not his sacred fire or who does not perform sacrifices. How then hast thou been able to possess my soul? In my dominions no sacrifice has been performed without completing it by Dakshina. No one in my dominions studies the Vedas who is not observant of vows. How then hast thou been able to possess my soul? The Brahmanas in my kingdom teach, study, sacrifice, officiate at other's sacrifices, give, and receive gifts. All of them are observant of those six acts. The Brahmanas in my kingdom are all devoted to the performance of the duties of their order. Worshipped and provided for, they are mild, and truthful in speech. How then hast thou been able to possess my soul? The Kshatriyas in my kingdom are all devoted to the duties of their order. They never beg but give, and are conversant with truth and virtue. They never teach but study, and perform sacrifices but never officiate at the sacrifices of others. They protect the Brahmanas and never fly from battle. How then hast thou been able to possess my soul? The Vaisyas in my dominion are all observant of the duties of their order. With simplicity and without deceit they derive their sustenance from agriculture, cattle-keeping, and trade. They are all heedful, observant of religious rites and excellent vows, and truthful in speech. They give to guests what is their due, and self-restrained, and pure, and attached to their relative and kinsmen. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? The Sudras in my kingdom, observant of the duties of their order, humbly and duly serve and wait upon the other three orders without entertaining any malice towards them. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? I support the helpless and the old, the weak, the ill, and women (without guardians), by supplying them with all their necessaries. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? I am never an exterminator of the special customs of families and of countries existing duly from days of old. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? The ascetics in my kingdom are protected and worshipped. They are always honoured and entertained with food. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? I never eat without feeding others from my dishes. I never go to other people's wives. I never sport or recreate alone. How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? No one in my kingdom who is not a Brahmacharin begs his food, and no one who leads the Bhikshu mode of life desires to be a Brahmacharin. No one who is not a Ritwij pours libations (of clarified butter) upon the sacrificial fire. How then hast thou been able to possess my soul? I never disregard the learned or the old or those that are engaged in penances. When the whole population sleeps, I keep myself awake (for watching and protecting). How then hast thou been able to possess my heart? My priest possesses knowledge of self. He is given to penances, and is conversant with all duties. Possessed of great intelligence, he has the fullest power over my kingdom. By gifts I desire to acquire knowledge, and by truth and the protection of Brahmanas, I desire to attain regions of blessedness in heaven. By service I attach myself to my preceptors. I have no fear of Rakshasas. In my kingdom there are no widows, no wicked Brahmanas, no Brahmana that has fallen away from his duties, no deceitful person, no thief, no Brahmana that officiates in the sacrifices of people for whom he should never officiate, and no perpetrator of sinful deeds. I have no fear of Rakshasas. There is no space in my body, of even two fingers' breadth, that does not bear the scar of a weapon-wound. I always fight for the sake of righteousness. How hast thou been able to possess my heart? The people of my kingdom always invoke blessings upon me in order that I may always be able to protect kine and Brahmanas and perform sacrifices. How then hast thou been able to possess me?' "'"The Rakshasa said, 'Since thou art observant of the duties under all circumstances, therefore, O king of the Kaikeyas, go back to thy abode. Blessed be thou, I leave thee. They, O king of the Kaikeyas, who protect kine and Brahmanas and all their subjects, have nothing to fear from Rakshasas, and much less from sinful persons. Those kings that give the lead to Brahmanas and whose might depends upon that of the Brahmanas, and whose subjects discharge the duties of hospitality, always succeeds in acquiring heaven.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thou shouldst, therefore, protect the Brahmanas. Protected by thee, they will protect thee in return. Their blessings, O king, would surely descend upon kings of righteous behaviour. For the sake of righteousness, those Brahmanas that are not observant of the duties of their order should be chastised and separated (into a distinct class) from their superiors. A king who conducts himself in this way towards the people of his city and the provinces, obtains prosperity here and residence in heaven with Indra."'" SECTION LXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "It has been said that in seasons of distress a Brahmana may support himself by the practice of Kshatriya duties. Can he, however, at any time, support himself by the practice of the duties laid down for the Vaisyas?" "'Bhishma said, "When a Brahmana loses his means of support and falls into distress, he may certainly betake himself to the practices of a Vaisya and derive his support by agriculture and keeping cattle, if, of course, he is incompetent for Kshatriya duties." "'Yudhishthira said, "If a Brahmana, O bull of Bharata's race, betakes himself to the duties of a Vaisya, what articles may he sell without losing his prospect of heaven?" "'Bhishma said, "Wines, salt, sesamum seeds, animals having manes, bulls, honey, meat, and cooked food, O Yudhishthira, under all circumstances, a Brahmana should avoid. A Brahmana, by selling these, would sink into hell. A Brahmana, by selling a goat, incurs the sin of selling the god of fire; by selling a sheep, the sin of selling the god of water; by selling a horse, the sin of selling the god of the sun; by selling cooked food, the sin of selling land; and by selling a cow, the sin of selling sacrifice and the Soma juice. These, therefore, should not be sold (by a Brahmana). They that are good do not applaud the purchase of uncooked food by giving cooked food in exchange. Uncooked food, however, may be given for procuring cooked food, O Bharata![234] 'We will eat this cooked food of thine. Thou mayst cook these raw things (that we give in exchange).'--In a compact of this kind there is no sin. Listen, O Yudhishthira, I shall speak to thee of the eternal practice, existing from days of old, of persons conducting themselves according to approved usages. 'I give thee this. Give me this other thing in return.' Exchange by such agreement is righteous. To take things by force, however, is sinful. Even such is the course of the usage followed by the Rishis and others. Without doubt, this is righteous." "'Yudhishthira said, "When, O sire, all the orders, giving up their respective duties, take up arms against the king, then, of course, the power of the king decreases.--By what means should the king then become the protector and refuge of the people? Resolve this doubt of mine, O king, by speaking to me in detail." "'Bhishma said, "By gifts, by penances, by sacrifices, by peacefulness, and by self-restraint, all the orders headed by the Brahmanas should, on such occasions, seek their own good. Those amongst them that are endued with Vedic strength, should rise up on every side and like the gods strengthening Indra contribute (by Vedic rites) to enhancing the strength of the king. Brahmanas are said to be the refuge of the king while his power suffers decay. A wise king seeks the enhancement of his power by means of the power of the Brahmanas. When the king, crowned with victory, seeks the re-establishment of peace, all the orders then betake themselves to their respective duties. When robbers, breaking through all restraints, spread devastation around, all the orders may take up arms. By so doing they incur no sin, O Yudhishthira!" "'Yudhishthira said, "If all the Kshatriyas become hostile towards the Brahmanas, who then will protect the Brahmanas and their Vedas? What then should be the duty of the Brahmanas and who will be their refuge?" "'Bhishma said, "By penances, by Brahmacharya, by weapons, and by (physical) might, applied with or without the aid of deceit, the Kshatriyas should be subjugated. If the Kshatriya misconducts himself, especially towards Brahmanas, the Vedas themselves will subjugate them. The Kshatriyas have sprung from the Brahmanas. Fire has sprung from water; the Kshatriya from the Brahmana; and iron from stone. The energy of fire, the Kshatriya, and iron, are irresistible. But when these come into contact with the sources of their origin, their force becomes neutralised. When iron strikes stone, or fire battles with water, or the Kshatriya becomes hostile to the Brahmana, then the strength of each of those three becomes destroyed. Thus, O Yudhishthira, the energy and might, howsoever great and irresistible, of Kshatriyas become quelled as soon as they are directed against the Brahmanas. When the energy of the Brahmanas becomes mild, when Kshatriya energy becomes weak, when all men misbehave themselves towards the Brahmanas, they that engage in battle then, casting off all fear of death, for protecting the Brahmanas, morality, and their own selves,--those persons, moved by righteous indignation and possessed of great strength of mind, succeed in winning high regions of bliss hereafter. All persons should take up arms for the sake of Brahmanas. Those brave persons that fight for Brahmanas attain to those felicitous regions in heaven that are reserved for persons that have always studied the Vedas with attention, that have performed the austerest of penances, and that have, after fasting, cast off their bodies into blazing fires. The Brahmana, by taking up arms for the three orders, does not incur sin. People say that there is no higher duty than casting off life under such circumstances. I bow to them and blessed be they that thus lay down their lives in seeking to chastise the enemies of Brahmanas. Let us attain to that region which is intended for them. Manu himself has said that those heroes repair to the region of Brahman. As persons become cleansed of all their sins by undergoing the final bath on a horse-sacrifice even so they that die at the edge of weapons while fighting wicked people, become cleansed of their sins. Righteousness becomes unrighteousness, and unrighteousness becomes righteousness, according to place and time. Such is the power of place and time (in determining the character of human acts). The friends of humanity, by doing even acts of cruelty, have attained to high heaven. Righteous Kshatriyas, by doing even sinful acts, have attained to blessed ends.[235] The Brahmana, by taking up arms on these three occasions, does not incur sin, viz., for protecting himself, for compelling the other orders to betake themselves to their duties, and for chastising robbers." "'Yudhishthira said, "If when robbers raise their heads and an inter-mixture of the orders begins to take place in consequence of confusion, and Kshatriyas become incompetent, some powerful person other than a Kshatriya seeks to subdue those robbers for the sake of protecting the people,[236] indeed, O best of kings, if that powerful person happens to be a Brahmana or a Vaisya or a Sudra, and if he succeeds in protecting the people by righteously wielding the rod of chastisement is he justified in doing what he does or is he restrained by the ordinances from accomplishing that duty? It seems that others, when the Kshatriyas prove so wretched, should take up weapons." "'Bhishma said, "Be he a Sudra or be he the member of any other orders, he that becomes a raft on a raftless current, or a means of crossing where means there are none, certainly deserves respect in every way. That person, O king, relying upon whom helpless men, oppressed and made miserable by robbers, live happily, deserves to be lovingly worshipped by all as if he were a near kinsman. The person, O thou of Kuru's race, that dispels the fears of others, always deserves respect. What use is there of bulls that would not bear burthens, or of kine that would not yield milk, or of a wife that is barren? Similarly, what need is there for a king that is not competent to grant protection? As an elephant made of wood, or a deer made of leather, as a person without wealth, or one that is a eunuch, or a field that is sterile, even so is a Brahmana that is void of Vedic lore and a king incapable of granting protection. Both of them are like a cloud that does not pour rain. That person who always protects the good and restrains the wicked deserves to become a king and to govern the world."'" SECTION LXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "What, O grandsire, should be the acts and what the behaviour of persons employed as priests in our sacrifices? What sort of persons should they be, O king? Tell me all this, O foremost of speakers." "'Bhishma said, "It is laid down from those Brahmanas that are eligible as priests that they should be conversant with the Chhandas including the Samans, and all the rites inculcated in the Srutis, and that they should be able to perform all such religious acts as lead to the prosperity of the king. They should be devotedly loyal and utter agreeable speeches in addressing kings. They should also be friendly towards one another, and cast equal eyes on all. They should be devoid of cruelty, and truthful in speech. They should never be usurers, and should always be simple and sincere. One that is peaceful in temper, destitute of vanity, modest, charitable, self-restrained, and contented, possessed of intelligence, truthful, observant of vows, and harmless to all creatures, without lust and malice, and endued with the three excellent qualities, devoid of envy and possessed of knowledge, deserves the seat of Brahman himself. Persons with such qualities, O sire, are the best of priests and deserve every respect." "'Yudhishthira said, "There are Vedic texts about the gift of Dakshina in sacrifices. There is no ordinance, however, which lays down that so much should be given. This ordinance (about the gift of Dakshina) has not proceeded from motives connected with the distribution of wealth. The command of the ordinance, in consequence of the provision in cases of incapacity, is terrible. That command is blind to the competence of the sacrificer.[237] The audition occurs in the Vedas that a person should, with devotion, perform a sacrifice. But what can devotion do when the sacrificer is stained by falsehood?"[238] "'Bhishma said, "No man acquires blessedness or merit by disregarding the Vedas or by deceit or falsehood. Never think that it is otherwise. Dakshina constitutes one of the limbs of sacrifice and conduces to the nourishment of the Vedas. A sacrifice without Dakshina can never lead to salvation. The efficacy, however, of a single Purnapatra is equal to that of any Dakshina, however rich. Therefore, O sire, everyone belonging to the three orders should perform sacrifices.[239] The Vedas have settled that Soma is as the king himself to the Brahmanas. Yet they desire to sell it for the sake of performing sacrifices, though they never wish to sell it for gaining a livelihood. Rishis of righteous behaviour have declared, agreeably to the dictates of morality, that a sacrifice performed with the proceeds of the sale of Soma serves to extend sacrifices.[240] These three, viz., a person, a sacrifice and Soma, must be of good character. A person that is of bad character is neither for this nor for the other world. This audition has been heard by us that the sacrifice which high-souled Brahmanas perform by wealth earned by excessive physical labour, is not productive of great merit. There is a declaration in the Vedas that penances are higher than sacrifices. I shall now speak to thee of penances. O learned prince, listen to me. Abstention from injury, truthfulness of speech, benevolence, compassion,--these are regarded as penances by the wise and not the emaciation of the body. Disregard of the Vedas, disobedience to the dictates of the scriptures, and violation of all wholesome restraints, are productive of self-destruction. Listen, O son of Pritha, to what has been laid down by those that pour ten libations upon the fire at ten times of the day.--For them that perform the sacrifice of penance, the Yoga they endeavour to effect with Brahma is their ladle; the heart is their clarified butter; and high knowledge constitutes their Pavitra.[241] All kinds of crookedness mean death, and all kinds of sincerity are called Brahma. This constitutes the subject of knowledge. The rhapsodies of system-builders cannot affect this.--"'" SECTION LXXX "'Yudhishthira said, "The most trifling act, O grandsire, cannot be accomplished by any man if unaided. What then need be said of the king (who has to govern a kingdom)? What should be the behaviour and what the acts of the king's minister? Upon whom should the king repose confidence and upon whom should he not?" "'Bhishma said, "Kings, O monarch, have four kinds of friends. They are he that has the same object, he that is devoted, he that is related by birth, and he that has been won over (by gifts and kindness). A person of righteous soul, who would serve one and not both sides, is the fifth in the enumeration of the king's friends. Such a person adopts that side on which righteousness is, and accordingly acts righteously. With respect to such a person, the king should never disclose such purposes of his as would not enlist his sympathy. Kings desirous of success are obliged to adopt both kinds of paths, righteous and unrighteous. Of the four kinds of friends, the second and the third are superior, while the first and the fourth should ever be regarded with suspicion. In view, however, of those acts which the king should do in person, he should always regard with suspicion all the four. The king should never act heedlessly in the matter of watching his friends. A king that is heedless is always overpowered by others. A wicked man assumes the garb of honesty, and he that is honest becomes otherwise. A foe may become a friend and a friend may become a foe. A man cannot always be of the same mind. Who is there that would trust him completely? All the chief acts, therefore, of a king he should accomplish in his own presence. A complete reliance (on his ministers) is destructive of both morality and profit. A want of trust again in respect of all is worse than death. Trustfulness is premature death. One incurs danger by truthfulness. If one trusts another completely, he is said to live by the sufferance of the trusted person. For this reason every one should be trusted as also mistrusted. This eternal rule of policy, O sire, should be kept in view. One should always mistrust that person who would, upon one's desire, obtain one's wealth. The wise declare such a person to be one's enemy. A person whose joy knows no bounds upon beholding the aggrandisement of the king and who feels miserable upon seeing the king's decay, furnishes the indications of one of the best friends of the king. He whose fall would be brought about by thy fall, should be trusted by thee completely even as thou shouldst trust thy sire. Thou shouldst, to the best of thy power, aggrandise him as thou winnest aggrandisement for thyself. One who, in even thy religious rites, seeks to rescue thee from harm, would seek to rescue thee from harm's way in every other business. Such a one should be regarded as thy best friend. They, on the other hand, that wish one harm are one's foes. That friend is said to be like thy own self who is inspired with fear when calamity overtakes thee and with joy when prosperity shines on thee. A person possessed of beauty, fair complexion, excellent voice, liberality, benevolence, and good birth, cannot be such a friend. That person who is possessed of intelligence and memory, who is clever in the transaction of business, who is naturally averse from cruelty, who never indulges in wrath, and who, whether regarded or disregarded is never dissatisfied, be he thy priest or preceptor or honoured friend should always receive thy worship if he accepts the office of thy counsellor and resides in thy abode. Such a person may be informed of thy most secret counsels and the true state of all thy affairs religious or pertaining to matters of profit. Thou mayst confide in him as in thy own sire. One person should be appointed to one task, and not two or three. Those may not tolerate each other. It is always seen that several persons, if set to one task, disagree with one another. That person who achieves celebrity, who observes all restraints, who never feels jealous of others that are able and competent, who never does any evil act, who never abandons righteousness from lust or fear or covetousness or wrath, who is clever in the transaction of business, and who is possessed of wise and weighty speech, should be thy foremost of ministers. Persons possessed of good birth and good behaviour, who are liberal and who never indulge in brag, who are brave and respectable, and learned and full of resources, should be appointed as ministers for supervising all thy affairs. Honoured by thee and gratified with wealth, they would act for thy good and be of great help to thee. Appointed to offices connected with profit and other important matters they always bring about great prosperity. Moved by a feeling of healthy rivalry, they discharge all duties connected with profit, holding consultations with one another when necessary. Thou shouldst fear thy kinsmen as thou shouldst death itself. A kinsman can never bear a kinsman's prosperity even as a feudatory chief cannot bear to see the prosperity of his overlord. None but a kinsman can feel joy at the destruction of a kinsman adorned with sincerity, mildness, liberality, modesty, and truthfulness of speech. They, again, that have no kinsmen, cannot be happy. No men can be more contemptible than they that are destitute of kinsmen. A person that has no kinsmen is easily overridden by foes. Kinsmen constitute the refuge of one that is afflicted by other men, for kinsmen can never bear to see a kinsman afflicted by other people. When a kinsman is persecuted by even his friends, every kinsman of the persecuted regards the injury to be inflicted upon himself. In kinsmen, therefore, there are both merits and faults. A person destitute of kinsmen never shows favours to any one nor humbles himself to any one. In kinsmen, therefore both merit and demerit may be marked. One should, for this reason, always honour and worship his kinsmen in words and acts, and do them agreeable offices without injuring them at any time. Mistrusting them at heart, one should behave towards them as if he trusted them completely. Reflecting upon their nature, it seems that they have neither faults nor merits. A person who heedfully conducts himself in this way finds his very foes disarmed of hostility and converted into friends. One who always conducts himself in this way amid kinsmen and relatives and bears himself thus towards friends and foes, succeeds in winning everlasting fame."'" SECTION LXXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "If one does not succeed in winning over one's kinsmen and relatives (by this course), they that are intended for becoming friends become foes. How should one, then, conduct one's self so that the hearts of both friends and foes may be won?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old history of a discourse between Vasudeva and the celestial sage Narada. On a certain occasion Vasudeva said, 'Neither an illiterate and foolish friend, nor a learned friend of fickle soul, deserves, O Narada, to know one's secret counsels. Relying on thy friendship for me, I shall say something to thee, O sage! O thou that canst go to heaven at thy pleasure, one should speak to another if one be convinced of the intelligence of that other. I never behave with slavish obsequiousness towards my kinsmen by flattering speeches about their prosperity. I give them half of what I have, and forgive their evil speeches. As a fire-stick is grinded by a person desirous of obtaining fire, even so my heart is ground by my kinsmen with their cruel speeches. Indeed, O celestial Rishi, those cruel speeches burn my heart every day. Might resides in Sankarshana; mildness in Gada; and as regards Pradyumna, he surpasses even myself in beauty of person. (Although I have all these on my side) yet I am helpless, O Narada! Many others among the Andhakas and the Vrishnis are possessed of great prosperity and might, and daring courage and constant perseverance. He on whose side they do not range themselves meets with destruction. He, on the other hand, on whose side they do range themselves, achieves everything. Dissuaded (in turns) by both (viz., Ahuka and Akrura,) I do not side either of them. What can be more painful for a person than to have both Ahuka and Akrura on his side? What, again, can be more painful for one than not to have both of them on his side?[242] I am like the mother of two brothers gambling against each other, invoking victory to both. I am thus, O Narada, afflicted by both. It behoveth thee to tell me that which is for the good of both myself and my kinsmen.' "'"Narada said, 'Calamities, O Krishna, are of two kinds, viz., external and internal. They arise, O thou of Vrishni's race, from one's own acts or from the acts of others. The calamity that has now overtaken thee is an internal one and is born of thy own acts. Valadeva and others of the Bhoja race are partisans of Akrura, and have taken up his side either for the sake of wealth, or mere caprice, or moved by words or by hate. As regards thyself, thou hast given away wealth obtained by thee to another. Though possessed of men who should be your friends, thou hast, however, by thy own act, brought calamity over thy head. Thou canst not take back that wealth, even as one cannot swallow again the food that he has vomited himself. The kingdom cannot be taken back from Babhu and Ugrasena (unto whom it has been given). Thyself, O Krishna, cannot, in particular, take it back (from them) from fear of producing intestine dissensions. Supposing the endeavour succeeds, it will do so after much trouble and after the accomplishment of the most difficult feats. A great slaughter and a great loss of wealth will ensue, perhaps, even total destruction. Use then a weapon that is not made of steel, that is very mild and yet capable of piercing all hearts. Sharpening and resharpening that weapon correct the tongues of thy kinsmen.' "'"Vasudeva said, 'What is that weapon, O sage, which is not made of steel, which is mild, which still pierces all hearts, and which I must use for correcting the tongues of my kinsmen?' "'"Narada said, 'The giving of food to the best of thy power, forgiveness, sincerity, mildness, and honour to whom honour is due, these constitute a weapon that is not made of steel. With soft words alone turn away the anger of kinsmen about the utter cruel speeches, and mollify their hearts and minds and slanderous tongues. None who is not a great man with cleansed soul and possessed of accomplishments and friends can bear a heavy burthen. Take up this great weight (of governing the Vrishnis) and bear it on thy shoulders. All oxen can bear heavy burthens on a level road. The stronger ones only among them can bear such burthens on a difficult road. From disunion destruction will spring and overtake all the Bhojas and the Vrishnis. Thou, O Kesava, art the foremost one among them. Do thou act in such a manner that the Bhojas and the Vrishnis may not meet with destruction. Nothing but intelligence and forgiveness, restraint of the senses, and liberality are present in a person of wisdom. Advancing one's own race is always praiseworthy and glorious and conducive to long life. Do thou, O Krishna, act in such a way that destruction may not overtake thy kinsmen. There is nothing unknown to thee in respect of policy and the art of war, O Lord! The Yadavas, the Kukuras, the Bhojas, the Andhakas, and the Vrishnis, are all dependent on thee even as all the worlds and all the regents of those worlds, O mighty-armed one! The Rishis, O Madhava, always pray for thy advancement. Thou art the lord of all creatures. Thou knowest the past, the present, and the future. Thou art the foremost one among all the Yadavas. Relying on thee, they expect to live in happiness.'"'" SECTION LXXXII "'Bhishma said, "This that I have told thee constitutes the first means. Listen now, O Bharata to the second means. That man who seeks to advance the interests of the king should always be protected by the king. If a person, O Yudhishthira, that is paid or unpaid, comes to thee for telling thee of the damage done to thy treasury when its resources are being embezzled by a minister, thou shouldst grant him an audience in private and protect him also from the (impeached) minister. The ministers guilty of peculation seek, O Bharata, to slay such informants. They who plunder the royal treasury combine together for opposing the person who seeks to protect it, and if the latter be left unprotected, he is sure to be ruined. In this connection also an old story is cited of what the sage Kalakavrikshiya had said unto the king of Kosala. It hath been heard by us that once on a time the sage Kalakavrikshiya came to Kshemadarsin who had ascended the throne of the kingdom of Kosala. Desirous of examining the conduct of all the officers of Kshemadarsin, the sage, with a crow kept within a cage in his hand, repeatedly travelled through every part of that king's dominions. And he spoke unto all the men and said, 'Study, ye the corvine science. The crows tell me the present, the past, and the future.' Proclaiming this in the kingdom, the sage, accompanied by a large number of men, began to observe the misdeeds of all the officers of the king. Having ascertained all the affairs in respect of that kingdom, and having learnt that all the officers appointed by the king were guilty of malversation, the sage, with his crow, came to see the king. Of rigid vows, he said unto the king, 'I know everything (about thy kingdom).' Arrived at the presence of the king, he said unto his minister adorned with the insignia of his office that he had been informed by his crow that the minister had done such a misdeed in such a place, and that such and such persons know that he had plundered the royal treasury. 'My crow tells me this. Admit or prove the falsehood of the accusation quickly.' The sage then proclaimed the names of other officers who had similarly been guilty of embezzlement, adding, 'My crow never says anything that is false.' Thus accused and injured by the sage, all the officers of the king, O thou of Kuru's race, (united together and) pierced his crow, while the sage slept, at night. Beholding his crow pierced with a shaft within the cage, the regenerate Rishi, repairing to Kshemadarsin in the morning said unto him, 'O king, I seek thy protection. Thou art all-powerful and thou art the master of the lives and wealth of all. If I receive thy command I can then say what is for thy good. Grieved on account of thee whom I regard as a friend have come to thee, impelled by my devotion and ready to serve thee with my whole heart. Thou art being robbed of thy wealth, I have come to thee for disclosing it without showing any consideration for the robbers. Like a driver that urges a good steed, I have come hither for awakening thee whom I regard as a friend. A friend who is alive to his own interests and desirous of his own prosperity and aggrandisement, should forgive a friend that intrudes himself forcibly, impelled by devotion and wrath, for doing what is beneficial.' The king replied unto him, saying, 'Why should I not bear anything thou wilt say, since I am not blind to what is for my good? I grant thee permission, O regenerate one! Tell me what thou pleasest, I shall certainly obey the instructions thou wilt give me, O Brahman.' "'"The sage said, 'Ascertaining the merits and faults of thy servants, as also the dangers thou incurrest at their hands, I have come to thee, impelled by my devotion, for representing everything to thee. The teachers (of mankind) have of old declared what the curses are, O king, of those that serve others. The lot of those that serve the king is very painful and wretched. He who has any connection with kings is to have connection with snakes of virulent poison. Kings have many friends as also many enemies. They that serve kings have to fear all of them. Every moment, again, they have fear from the king himself, O monarch. A person serving the king cannot (with impunity) be guilty of heedlessness in doing the king's work. Indeed, a servant who desires to win prosperity should never display heedlessness in the discharge of his duties. His heedlessness may move the king to wrath, and such wrath may bring down destruction (on the servant). Carefully learning how to behave himself, one should sit in the presence of the king as he should in the presence of a blazing fire. Prepared to lay down life itself at every moment, one should serve the king attentively, for the king is all-powerful and master of the lives and the wealth of all, and therefore, like unto a snake of virulent poison. He should always fear to indulge in evil speeches before the king, or to sit cheerlessly or in irreverent postures, or to wait in attitudes of disrespect or to walk disdainfully or display insolent gestures and disrespectful motions of the limbs. If the king becomes gratified, he can shower prosperity like god. If he becomes enraged, he can consume to the very roots like a blazing fire. This, O king, was said by Yama. Its truth is seen in the affairs of the world. I shall now (acting according to these precepts) do that which would enhance thy prosperity. Friends like ourselves can give unto friends like thee the aid of their intelligence in seasons of peril. This crow of mine, O king, has been slain for doing thy business. I cannot, however, blame thee for this. Thou art not loved by those (that have slain this bird). Ascertain who are thy friends and who thy foes. Do everything thyself without surrendering thy intelligence to others. They who are on thy establishment are all peculators. They do not desire the good of thy subjects. I have incurred their hostility. Conspiring with those servants that have constant access to thee they covet the kingdom after thee by compassing thy destruction. Their plans, however, do not succeed in consequence of unforeseen circumstances. Through fear of those men, O king, I shall leave this kingdom for some other asylum. I have no worldly desire, yet those persons of deceitful intentions have shot this shaft at my crow, and have, O lord, despatched the bird to Yama's abode. I have seen this, O king, with eyes whose vision has been improved by penances. With the assistance of this single crow I have crossed this kingdom of thine that is like a river abounding with alligators and sharks and crocodiles and whales. Indeed, with the assistance of that bird, I have passed through thy dominions like unto a Himalayan valley, impenetrable and inaccessible in consequence of trunks of (fallen) trees and scattered rocks and thorny shrubs and lions and tigers and other beasts of prey. The learned say that a region inaccessible in consequence of gloom can be passed through with the aid of a light, and a river that is unfordable can be crossed by means of a boat. No means, however, exist for penetrating or passing through the labyrinth of kingly affairs. Thy kingdom is like an inaccessible forest enveloped with gloom. Thou (that art the lord of it) canst not trust it. How then can I? Good and evil are regarded here in the same light. Residence here cannot, therefore, be safe. Here a person of righteous deeds meets with death, while one of unrighteous deeds incurs no danger. According to the requirements of justice, a person of unrighteous deeds should be slain but never one who is righteous in his acts. It is not proper, therefore, for one to stay in this kingdom long. A man of sense should leave this country soon. There is a river, O king, of the name of Sita. Boats sink in it. This thy kingdom is like that river. An all-destructive net seems to have been cast around it. Thou art like the fall that awaits collectors of honey, or like attractive food containing poison. Thy nature now resembles that of dishonest men and not that of the good. Thou art like a pit, O king, abounding with snakes of virulent poison. Thou resemblest, O king, a river full of sweet water but exceedingly difficult of access, with steep banks overgrown with Kariras and thorny canes. Thou art like a swan in the midst of dogs, vultures and jackals. Grassy parasites, deriving their sustenance from a mighty tree, swell into luxuriant growth, and at last covering the tree itself overshadow it completely. A forest conflagration sets in, and catching those grassy plants first, consumes the lordly tree with them. Thy ministers, O king, resemble those grassy parasites of which I speak. Do thou check and correct them. They have been nourished by thee. But conspiring against thee, they are destroying thy prosperity. Concealing (from thee) the faults of thy servants, I am living in thy abode in constant dread of danger, even like a person living in a room with a snake within it or like the lover of a hero's wife. My object is to ascertain the behaviour of the king who is my fellow-lodger. I wish to know whether the king has his passions under control, whether his servants are obedient to him, whether he is loved by them, and whether he loves his subjects. For the object of ascertaining all these points, O best of kings, I have come to thee. Like food to a hungry person, thou hast become dear to me. I dislike thy ministers, however, as a person whose thirst has been slaked dislikes drink. They have found fault with me because I seek thy good. I have no doubt that there is no other cause for that hostility of theirs to me. I do not cherish any hostile intentions towards them. I am engaged in only marking their faults. As one should fear a wounded snake, every one should fear a foe of wicked heart!'[243] "'"The king said, 'Reside in my palace, O Brahmana! I shall always treat thee with respect and honour, and always worship thee. They that will dislike thee shall not dwell with me. Do thou thyself do what should be done next unto those persons (of whom thou hast spoken). Do thou see, O holy one, that the rod of chastisement is wielded properly and that everything is done well in my kingdom. Reflecting upon everything, do thou guide me in such a way that I may obtain prosperity.' "'"The sage said, 'Shutting thy eyes in the first instance to this offence of theirs (viz., the slaughter of the crow), do thou weaken them one by one. Prove their faults then and strike them one after another. When many persons become guilty of the same offence, they can, by acting together, soften the very points of thorns. Lest thy ministers (being suspected, act against thee and) disclose thy secret counsels, I advise thee to proceed with such caution. As regards ourselves, we are Brahmanas, naturally compassionate and unwilling to give pain to any one. We desire thy good as also the good of others, even as we wish the good of ourselves. I speak of myself, O king! I am thy friend. I am known as the sage Kalakavrikshiya. I always adhere to truth. Thy sire regarded me lovingly as his friend. When distress overtook this kingdom during the reign of thy sire, O king, I performed many penances (for driving it off), abandoning every other business. From my affection for thee I say this unto thee so that thou mayst not again commit the fault (of reposing confidence on undeserving persons). Thou hast obtained a kingdom without trouble. Reflect upon everything connected with its weal and woe. Thou hast ministers in thy kingdom. But why, O king, shouldst thou be guilty of heedlessness?' After this, the king of Kosala took a minister from the Kshatriya order, and appointed that bull among Brahmanas (viz., the sage Kalakavrikshiya) as his Purohita. After these changes had been effected, the king of Kosala subjugated the whole earth and acquired great fame. The sage Kalakavrikshiya worshipped the gods in many grand sacrifices performed for the king. Having listened to his beneficial counsels, the king of Kosala conquered the whole earth and conducted himself in every respect as the sage directed."'" SECTION LXXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "What should be the characteristics, O grandsire, of the legislators, the ministers of war, the courtiers, the generalissimos, and the counsellors of a king?" "'Bhishma said, "Such persons as are possessed of modesty, self-restraint, truth, sincerity, and courage to say what is proper, should be thy legislators. They that are always by thy side, that are possessed of great courage, that are of the regenerate caste, possessed of great learning, well pleased with thee, and endued with perseverance in all acts, should, O son of Kunti, be desired by thee for becoming thy ministers of war at all seasons of distress, O Bharata! One who is of high descent, who, treated with honour by thee, always exerts his powers to the utmost on thy behalf, and who will never abandon thee in weal or woe, illness or death, should be entertained by thee as a courtier. They that are of high birth, that are born in thy kingdom, that have wisdom, beauty of form and features, great learning, and dignity of behaviour, and that are, besides, devoted to thee, should be employed as officers of thy army. Persons of low descent and covetous dispositions, who are cruel and shameless would court thee, O sire, as long as their hands would remain wet.[244] They that are of good birth and good behaviour, that can read all signs and gestures, that are destitute of cruelty, that know what the requirements are of place and time, that always seek the good of their master in all acts, should be appointed as ministers by the king in all his affairs. They that have been won over with gifts of wealth, honours, regardful receptions, and means of procuring felicity, and who on that account may be regarded by thee as persons inclined to benefit thee in all thy affairs, should always be made sharers of thy happiness. They that are unchangeable in conduct, possessed of learning and good behaviour, observant of excellent vows, large-hearted, and truthful in speech, will always be attentive to thy affairs and will never abandon thee. They, on the other hand, that are disrespectable, that are not observant of restraints, that are of wicked souls, and that have fallen away from good practices, should always be compelled by thee to observe all wholesome restraints. When the question is which of two sides should be adopted, thou shouldst not abandon the many for adopting the side of one. When, however, that one person transcends the many in consequence of the possession of many accomplishments, then thou shouldst, for that one, abandon the many. These are regarded as marks of superiority, viz., prowess, devotion to pursuits that bring fame, and observance of wholesome restraints. He, again, that honours all persons possessed of ability, that never indulges in feelings of rivalry with persons possessed of no merit, that never abandons righteousness from lust or fear or wrath or covetousness, that is adorned with humility, that is truthful in speech and forgiving in temper, that has his soul under control, that has a sense of dignity, and that has been tried in every situation, should be employed by thee as thy counsellor. High descent, purity of blood, forgiveness, cleverness, and purity of soul, bravery, gratefulness, and truth, are, O son of Pritha, marks of superiority and goodness. A wise man who conducts himself in this way,[245] succeeds in disarming his very foes of their hostility and converting them into friends. A king that has his soul under restraint, that is possessed of wisdom, and that is desirous of prosperity, should carefully examine the merits and demerits of his ministers. A king desirous of prosperity and of shining in the midst of his contemporaries, should have for ministers persons connected with his trusted friends, possessed of high birth born in his own kingdom, incapable of being corrupted, unstained by adultery and similar vices, well tested, belonging to good families, possessed of learning, sprung from sires and grandsires that held similar offices, and adorned with humility. The king should employ five such persons to look after his affairs as are possessed of intelligence unstained by pride, a disposition that is good, energy, patience, forgiveness, purity, loyalty, firmness, and courage, whose merits and faults have been well tested, who are of mature years, who are capable of bearing burthens, and who are free from deceit. Men that are wise in speech, that are possessed of heroism, that are full of resources under difficulties, that are of high birth, that are truthful, that can read signs, that are free from cruelty, that are conversant with the requirements of place and time, and that desire the good of their masters, should be employed by the king as his ministers in all affairs of the kingdom. One who is bereft of energy and who has been abandoned by friends can never work with perseverance. Such a man, if employed, fails in almost every business. A minister possessed of little learning, even if blessed with high birth and attentive to virtue, profit, and pleasure, becomes incompetent in choosing proper courses of action. Similarly, a person of low descent, even if possessed of great learning, always errs, like a blind man without a guide, in all acts requiring dexterity and foresight. A person, again, who is of infirm purposes, even if possessed of intelligence and learning, and even if conversant with means, cannot long act with success. A man of wicked heart and possessed of no learning may set his hand to work but he fails to ascertain what the results will be of his work. A king should never repose trust on a minister that is not devoted to him. He should, therefore, never disclose his counsels to a minister that is not devoted to him. Such a wicked minister, combining with the other ministers of the king, may ruin his master, like a fire consuming a tree by entering its entrails through the holes in its body with the aid of the wind. Giving way to wrath, a master may one day pull down a servant from his office or reprove him, from rage, in harsh words, and restore him to power again. None but a servant devoted to the master can bear and forgive such treatment. Ministers also become sometime highly offended with their royal masters. That one, however, amongst them, who subdues his wrath from desire of doing good to his master,--that person who is a sharer with the king of his weal and woe,--should be consulted by the king in all his affairs. A person who is of crooked heart, even if he be devoted to his master and possessed of wisdom and adorned with numerous virtues, should never be consulted by the king. One who is allied with foes and who does not regard the interests of the king's subjects, should be known as an enemy. The king should never consult with him. One who is possessed of no learning, who is not pure, who is stained with pride, who pays court to the king's enemies, who indulges in brag, who is unfriendly, wrathful, and covetous should not be consulted by the king. One who is a stranger, even if he be devoted to the king and possessed of great learning, may be honoured by the king and gratified with assignment of the means of sustenance, but the king should never consult him in his affairs. A person whose sire was unjustly banished by royal edict should not be consulted by the king even if the king may have subsequently bestowed honours upon him and assigned to him the means of sustenance. A well-wisher whose property was once confiscated for a slight transgression, even if he be possessed of every accomplishment should not still be consulted by the king. A person possessed of wisdom, intelligence, and learning, who is born within the kingdom, who is pure and righteous in all his acts, deserves to be consulted by the king. One who is endued with knowledge and wisdom, who is acquainted with the dispositions of his friends and foes, who is such a friend of the king as to be his second self, deserves to be consulted. One who is truthful in speech and modest and mild and who is a hereditary servant of the king, deserves to be consulted. One who is contented and honoured, who is truthful and dignified, who hates wickedness and wicked men, who is conversant with policy and the requirements of time, and who is courageous, deserves to be consulted by the king. One who is competent to win over all men by conciliation should be consulted, O monarch, by the king that is desirous of ruling according to the dictates of the science of chastisement. One upon whom the inhabitants of both the capital and the provinces repose confidence for his righteous conduct, who is competent to fight and conversant with the rules of policy, deserves to be consulted by the king. Therefore, men possessed of such qualities, men conversant with the dispositions of all and desirous of achieving high acts, should be honoured by the king and made his ministers. Their number also should not be less than three.[246] Ministers should be employed in observing the laches of their masters, of themselves, of the subjects, and of the foes of their master. The kingdom has its root in the counsels of policy that flow from ministers, and its growth proceeds from the same source. Ministers should act in such a way that the enemies of their master may not be able to detect his laches. On the other hand, when their laches become visible, they should then be assailed. Like the tortoise protecting its limbs by withdrawing them within its shell, ministers should protect their own counsels. They should, even thus, conceal their own laches. Those ministers of a kingdom that succeed in concealing their counsels are said to be possessed of wisdom. Counsels constitute the armour of a king, and the limbs of his subjects and officers. A kingdom is said to have its roots in spies and secret agents, and its strength is said to lie in counsels of policy. If masters and ministers follow each other for deriving support from each other, subduing pride and wrath, and vanity and envy, they may then both become happy. A king should also consult with such ministers as are free from the five kinds of deceit. Ascertaining well, in the first instance, the different opinions of the three amongst them whom he has consulted, the king should, for subsequent deliberation, repair to his preceptor for informing him of those opinions and his own. His preceptor should be a Brahmana well versed in all matters of virtue, profit, and pleasure. Repairing, for such subsequent deliberation, to him, the king should, with collected mind, ask his opinion. When a decision is arrived at after deliberation with him, the king should then, without attachment, carry it out into practice. They that are conversant with the conclusions of the science of consultation say that kings should always hold consultation in this way. Having settled counsels in this way, they should then be reduced to practice, for then they will be able to win over all the subjects. There should be no dwarfs, no humpbacked persons, no one of an emaciated constitution, no one who is lame or blind, no one who is an idiot, no woman, and no eunuch, at the spot where the king holds his consultations. Nothing should move there before or behind, above or below, or in transverse directions. Getting up on a boat, or repairing to an open space destitute of grass or grassy bushes and whence the surrounding land may be clearly seen, the king should hold consultations at the proper time, avoiding faults of speech and gestures."'" SECTION LXXXIV "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O Yudhishthira, the old account of a conversation between Vrihaspati and Sakra is cited. "'"Sakra said, 'What is that one act, O regenerate one, by accomplishing which with care, a person may become the object of regard with all creatures and acquire great celebrity?' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'Agreeableness of speech, O Sakra, is the one thing by practising which a person may become an object of regard with all creatures and acquire great celebrity. This is the one thing, O Sakra, which gives happiness to all. By practising it, one may always obtain the love of all creatures. The person who does not speak a word and whose face is always furrowed with frowns, becomes an object of hatred with all creatures. Abstention from agreeable speeches makes him so. That person who, upon beholding others, addresses them first and does so with smiles succeeds in making everyone gratified with him. Even gifts, if not made with agreeable speeches, do not delight the recipients, like rice without curry. If even the possessions of men, O Sakra, be taken away with sweet speeches, such sweetness of behaviour succeeds in reconciling the robbed. A king, therefore, that is desirous of even inflicting chastisement should utter sweet words. Sweetness of speech never fails of its purpose, while, at the same time it never pains any heart. A person of good acts and good, agreeable, and sweet speeches, has no equal.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by his priest, Sakra began to act according to those instructions. Do thou also, O son of Kunti, practise this virtue."'" SECTION LXXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "O foremost of kings, what is that method by which a king ruling his subjects may, in consequence of it, obtain great blessedness and eternal fame?" "'Bhishma said, "A king of cleansed soul and attentive to the duty of protecting his subjects earns merit and fame, both here and hereafter, by conducting himself righteously." "'Yudhishthira said, "With whom should the king behave in what way? Asked by me, O thou of great wisdom, it behoveth thee to tell me everything duly. Those virtues of which thou hast already spoken with respect to a person, cannot, it is my belief, be found to exist in any single individual." "'Bhishma said, "Thou art endued with great intelligence, O Yudhishthira! It is even so as thou sayest. The person is very rare who is possessed of all those good qualities. To be brief, conduct like this (viz., the presence of all the virtues spoken of), is very difficult to be met with even upon careful search. I shall, however, tell thee what kinds of ministers should be appointed by thee. Four Brahmanas, learned in the Vedas, possessed of a sense of dignity, belonging to the Snataka order, and of pure behaviour, and eight Kshatriyas, all of whom should be possessed of physical strength and capable of wielding weapons, and one and twenty Vaisyas, all of whom should be possessed of wealth, and three Sudras, every one of whom should be humble and of pure conduct and devoted to his daily duties, and one man of the Suta caste, possessed of a knowledge of the Puranas and the eight cardinal virtues, should be thy ministers. Every one of them should be fifty years of age, possessed of a sense of dignity, free from envy, conversant with the Srutis and the Smritis, humble, impartial, competent to readily decide in the midst of disputants urging different courses of action, free from covetousness, and from the seven dreadful vices called Vyasanas. The king should consult with those eight ministers and hold the lead among them. He should then publish in his kingdom, for the information of his subjects, the results of such deliberation. Thou shouldst always, adopting such a conduct, watch over thy people. Thou shouldst never confiscate what is deposited with thee or appropriate as thine the thing about whose ownership two persons may dispute. Conduct such as this would spoil the administration of justice. If the administration of justice be thus injured, sin will afflict thee, and afflict thy kingdom as well, and inspire thy people with fear as little birds at the sight of the hawk. Thy kingdom will then melt away like a boat wrecked on the sea. If a king governs his subjects with unrighteousness, fear takes possession of his heart and the door of heaven is closed against him. A kingdom, O bull among men, has its root in righteousness. That minister, or king's son, who acts unrighteously, occupying the seat of justice, and those officers who having accepted the charge of affairs, act unjustly, moved by self-interest, all sink in hell along with the king himself. Those helpless men who are oppressed by the powerful and who indulge on that account in piteous and copious lamentations, have their protector in the king. In cases of dispute between two parties the decision should be based upon the evidence of witnesses. If one of the disputants has no witnesses and is helpless, the king should give the case his best consideration. The king should cause chastisement to be meted out to offenders according to the measure of their offences. They that are wealthy should be punished with fines and confiscations; they that are poor, with loss of liberty. Those that are of very wicked conduct should be chastised by the king with even corporal inflictions. The king should cherish all good men with agreeable speeches and gifts of wealth. He who seeks to compass the death of the king should be punished with death to be effected by diverse means. The same should be the punishment of one who becomes guilty of arson or theft or such co-habitation with women as may lead to a confusion of castes. A king, O monarch, who inflicts punishments duly and conformably to the dictates of the science of chastisement, incurs no sin by the act. On the other hand, he earns merit that is eternal. That foolish king who inflicts punishments capriciously, earns infamy here and sinks into hell hereafter. One should not be punished for the fault of another. Reflecting well upon the (criminal) code, a person should be convicted or acquitted. A king should never slay an envoy under any circumstances. That king who slays an envoy sinks into hell with all his ministers. That king observant of Kshatriya practices who slays an envoy that faithfully utters the message with which he is charged, causes the manes of his deceased ancestors to be stained with the sin of killing a foetus. An envoy should possess these seven accomplishments, viz., he should be high-born, of a good family, eloquent, clever, sweet-speeched, faithful in delivering the message with which he is charged, and endued with a good memory. The aid-de-camp of the king that protects his person should be endued with similar qualities. The officer also that guards his capital or citadel should possess the same accomplishments. The king's minister should be conversant with the conclusions of the scriptures and competent in directing wars and making treaties. He should, further, be intelligent, possessed of courage, modest, and capable of keeping secrets. He should also be of high birth endued with strength of mind, and pure in conduct. If possessed of these qualities, he should be regarded worthy. The commander of the king's forces should be possessed of similar accomplishments. He should also be conversant with the different kinds of battle array and with the uses of engines and weapons. He should be able to bear exposure to rain, cold, heat, and wind, and watchful of the laches of foes. The king, O monarch, should be able to lull his foes into a sense of security. He should not, however, himself trust anyone. The reposing of confidence on even his own son is not to be approved of. I have now, O sinless one, declared to thee what the conclusions of the scriptures are. Refusal to trust anyone has been said to be one of the highest mysteries of king-craft."'" SECTION LXXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "What should be the kind of city within which the king should himself dwell? Should he select one already made or should he cause one to be especially constructed? Tell me this O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "It is proper, O Bharata, to enquire about the conduct that should be followed and the defences that should be adopted with respect to the city in which, O son of Kunti, a king should reside. I shall, therefore, discourse to thee on the subject, referring especially to the defences of citadels. Having listened to me, thou shouldst make the arrangements required and conduct thyself attentively as directed. Keeping his eye on the six different kinds of citadels, the king should build his cities containing every kind of affluence and every other article of use in abundance. Those six varieties are water-citadels, earth-citadels, hill-citadels, human-citadels, mud-citadels, and forest-citadels.[247] The king, with his ministers and the army thoroughly loyal to him, should reside in that city which is defended by a citadel which contains an abundant stock of rice and weapons,--which is protected with impenetrable walls and a trench, which teems with elephants and steeds and cars, which is inhabited by men possessed of learning and versed in the mechanical arts, where provisions of every kind have been well stored, whose population is virtuous in conduct and clever in business and consists of strong and energetic men and animals, which is adorned with many open squares and rows of shops, where the behaviour of all persons is righteous, where peace prevails, where no danger exists, which blazes with beauty and resounds with music and songs, where the houses are all spacious, where the residents number among them many brave and wealthy individuals, which echoes with the chant of Vedic hymns, where festivities and rejoicings frequently take place, and where the deities are always worshipped.[248] Residing there, the king should be employed in filling his treasury, increasing his forces, enhancing the number of his friends, and establishing courts of justice. He should check all abuses and evils in both his cities and his provinces. He should be employed in collecting provisions of every kind and in filling his arsenals with care. He should also increase his stores of rice and other grain, and strengthen his counsels (with wisdom). He should further, enhance his stores of fuel, iron, chaff, charcoal, timber, horns, bones, bamboos, marrow, oils and ghee, fat, honey, medicines, flax, resinous exudations, rice, weapons, shafts, leather catgut (for bow-strings), caries, and strings and cords made of munja grass and other plants and creepers. He should also increase the number of tanks and wells containing large quantities of water, and should protect all juicy trees.[249] He should entertain with honour and attention preceptors (of different sciences), Ritwijas, and priests, mighty bowmen, persons skilled in architecture, astronomers and astrologers, and physicians, as also all men possessed of wisdom and intelligence and self-restraint and cleverness and courage and learning and high birth and energy of mind, and capable of close application to all kinds of work. The king should honour the righteous and chastise the unrighteous. He should, acting with resolution, set the several orders to their respective duties. Ascertaining properly, by means of spies, the outward behaviour and the state of mind of the inhabitants of his city and provinces, he should adopt those measures that may be required. The king should himself supervise his spies and counsels, his treasury, and the agencies for inflicting chastisements. Upon these everything may be said to depend. With spies constituting his sight, the king should ascertain all the acts and intentions of his foes, friends, and neutrals. He should then, with heedfulness, devise his own measures, honouring those that are loyal to him and punishing those that are hostile. The king should always adore the gods in sacrifices and make gifts without giving pain to anybody. He should protect his subjects, never doing anything that may obstruct or thwart righteousness. He should always maintain and protect the helpless, the masterless, and the old, and women that are widows. The king should always honour the ascetics and make unto them gifts, at proper seasons of cloths and vessels and food. The king should, with attentive care, inform the ascetics (within his dominions) of the state of his own self, of all his measures, and of the kingdom, and should always behave with humility in their presence. When he sees ascetics of high birth and great learning that have abandoned all earthly objects, he should honour them with gifts of beds and seats and food. Whatever the nature of the distress into which he may fall, he should confide in an ascetic. The very robbers repose confidence upon persons of that character. The king should place his wealth in charge of an ascetic and should take wisdom from him. He should not, however, always wait upon them or worship them on all occasions.[250] From among those residing in his own kingdom, he should select one for friendship. Similarly, he should select another from among those that reside in the kingdom of his foe. He should select a third from among those residing in the forests, and a fourth from among those dwelling in the kingdoms paying tribute to him. He should show hospitality towards and bestow honours upon them and assign them the means of sustenance. He should behave towards the ascetics dwelling in the kingdoms of foes and in the forests in the same way as towards those that reside in his own kingdom. Engaged in penances and of rigid vows they would, if calamity overtakes the king and if he solicits protection, grant him what he wants. I have now told thee in brief the indications of the city in which the king should reside."'" SECTION LXXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "How, O king, may a kingdom be consolidated, and how should it be protected? I desire to know this. Tell me all this, O bull of Bharata's race!" "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me with concentrated attention. I shall tell thee how a kingdom may be consolidated, and how also it may be protected. A headman should be selected for each village. Over ten villages (or ten headmen) there should be one superintendent. Over two such superintendents there should be one officer (having the control, therefore, of twenty villages). Above the latter should be appointed persons under each of whom should be a century of villages; and above the last kind of officers, should be appointed men each of whom should have a thousand villages under his control. The headman should ascertain the characteristics of every person in the village and all the faults also that need correction. He should report everything to the officer (who is above him and is) in charge of ten villages. The latter, again, should report the same to the officer (who is above him and is) in charge of twenty villages. The latter, in his turn, should report the conduct of all the persons within his dominion to the officer (who is above him and is) in charge of a hundred villages. The village headman should have control over all the produce and the possessions of the village. Every headman should contribute his share for maintaining the lord of ten villages, and the latter should do the same for supporting the lord of twenty villages. The lord of a hundred villages should receive every honour from the king and should have for his support a large village, O chief of the Bharatas, populous and teeming with wealth. Such a village, so assigned to a lord of hundred villages, should be, however, within the control of the lord of a thousand villages. That high officer, again, viz., the lord of a thousand villages, should have a minor town for his support. He should enjoy the grain and gold and other possessions derivable from it. He should perform all the duties of its wars and other internal affairs pertaining to it. Some virtuous minister, with wrathfulness should exercise supervision over the administration affairs and mutual relations of those officers. In every town, again, there should be an officer for attending to every matter relating to his jurisdiction. Like some planet of dreadful form moving above all the asterisms below, the officer (with plenary powers) mentioned last should move and act above all the officers subordinate to him. Such an officer should ascertain the conduct of those under him through his spies. Such high officers should protect the people from all persons of murderous disposition, all men of wicked deeds, all who rob other people of their wealth, and all who are full of deceit, and all of whom are regarded to be possessed by the devil. Taking note of the sales and the purchases, the state of the roads, the food and dress, and the stocks and profits of those that are engaged in trade, the king should levy taxes on them. Ascertaining on all occasions the extent of the manufactures, the receipts and expenses of those that are engaged in them, and the state of the arts, the king should levy taxes upon the artisans in respect of the arts they follow. The king, O Yudhishthira, may take high taxes, but he should never levy such taxes as would emasculate his people. No tax should be levied without ascertaining the outturn and the amount of labour that has been necessary to produce it. Nobody would work or seek for outturns without sufficient cause.[251] The king should, after reflection, levy taxes in such a way that he and the person who labours to produce the article taxed may both share the value. The king should not, by his thirst, destroy his own foundations as also those of others. He should always avoid those acts in consequence of which he may become an object of hatred to his people. Indeed, by acting in this way he may succeed in winning popularity. The subjects hate that king who earns a notoriety for voraciousness of appetite (in the matter of taxes and imposts). Whence can a king who becomes an object of hatred have prosperity? Such a king can never acquire what is for his good. A king who is possessed of sound intelligence should milk his kingdom after the analogy of (men acting in the matter of) calves. If the calf be permitted to suck, it grows strong, O Bharata, and bears heavy burthens. If, on the other hand, O Yudhishthira, the cow be milked too much, the calf becomes lean and fails to do much service to the owner. Similarly, if the kingdom be drained much, the subjects fail to achieve any act that is great. That king who protects his kingdom himself and shows favour to his subjects (in the matter of taxes and imposts) and supports himself upon what is easily obtained, succeeds in earning many grand results. Does not the king then obtain wealth sufficient for enabling him to cope with his wants?[252] The entire kingdom, in that case, becomes to him his treasury, while that which is his treasury becomes his bed chamber. If the inhabitants of the cities and the provinces be poor, the king should, whether they depend upon him immediately or mediately, show them compassion to the best of his power. Chastising all robbers that infest the outskirts, the king should protect the people of his villages and make them happy. The subjects, in the case, becoming sharers of the king's weal and woe, feel exceedingly gratified with him. Thinking, in the first instance, of collecting wealth, the king should repair to the chief centres of his kingdom one after another and endeavour to inspire his people with fright. He should say unto them, 'Here, calamity threatens us. A great danger has arisen in consequence of the acts of the foe. There is every reason, however, to hope that the danger will pass away, for the enemy, like a bamboo that has flowered, will very soon meet with destruction. Many foes of mine, having risen up and combined with a large number of robbers, desire to put our kingdom into difficulties, for meeting with destruction themselves. In view of this great calamity fraught with dreadful danger, I solicit your wealth for devising the means of your protection. When the danger passes away, I will give you what I now take. Our foes, however, will not give back what they (if unopposed) will take from you by force. On the other hand (if unopposed), they will even slay all your relatives beginning with your very spouses. You certainly desire wealth for the sake of your children and wives. I am glad at your prosperity, and I beseech you as I would my own children. I shall take from you what it may be within your power to give me. I do not wish to give pain to any one. In seasons of calamity, you should, like strong bulls, bear such burthens. In seasons of distress, wealth should not be so dear to you.' A king conversant with the considerations relating to Time should, with such agreeable, sweet, and complimentary words, send his agents and collect imposts from his people. Pointing out to them the necessity of repairing his fortifications and of defraying the expenses of his establishment and other heads, inspiring them with the fear of foreign invasion, and impressing them with the necessity that exists for protecting them and enabling them to ensure the means of living in peace, the king should levy imposts upon the Vaisyas of his realm. If the king disregards the Vaisyas, they become lost to him, and abandoning his dominions remove themselves to the woods. The king should, therefore, behave with leniency towards them. The king, O son of Pritha, should always conciliate and protect the Vaisyas, adopt measures for inspiring them with a sense of security and for ensuring them in the enjoyment of what they possess, and always do what is agreeable to them. The king, O Bharata, should always act in such a way towards the Vaisyas that their productive powers may be enhanced. The Vaisyas increase the strength of a kingdom, improve its agriculture, and develop its trade. A wise king, therefore, should always gratify them. Acting with heedfulness and leniency, he should levy mild imposts upon them. It is always easy to behave with goodness towards the Vaisyas. There is nothing productive of greater good to a kingdom, O Yudhishthira, then the adoption of such behaviour towards the Vaisyas of the realm."'" SECTION LXXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said: "Tell me, O grandsire, how should the king behave if, notwithstanding his great wealth, he desires for more." "'Bhishma said, "A king, desirous of earning religious merit, should devote himself to the good of his subjects and protect them according to considerations of place and time and to the best of his intelligence and power. He should, in his dominions, adopt all such measures as would in his estimation secure their good as also his own. A king should milk his kingdom like a bee gathering honey from plants.[253] He should act like the keeper of a cow who draws milk from her without boring her udders and without starving the calf. The king should (in the matter of taxes) act like the leech drawing blood mildly. He should conduct himself towards his subjects like a tigress in the matter of carrying her cubs, touching them with her teeth but never piercing them therewith. He should behave like a mouse which though possessed of sharp and pointed teeth still cuts the feet of sleeping animals in such a manner that they do not at all become conscious of it. A little by little should be taken from a growing subject and by this means should he be shorn. The demand should then be increased gradually till what is taken assumes a fair proportion. The king should enhance the burthens of his subjects gradually like a person gradually increasing the burthens of a young bullock. Acting with care and mildness, he should at last put the reins on them. If the reins are thus put, they would not become intractable. Indeed, adequate measures should be employed for making them obedient. Mere entreaties to reduce them to subjection would not do. It is impossible to behave equally towards all men. Conciliating those that are foremost, the common people should be reduced to obedience. Producing disunion (through the agency of their leaders) among the common people who are to bear the burthens, the king should himself come forward to conciliate them and then enjoy in happiness what he will succeed in drawing from them. The king should never impose taxes unseasonably and on persons unable to bear them. He should impose them gradually and with conciliation, in proper season and according to due forms. These contrivances that I declare unto thee are legitimate means of king-craft. They are not reckoned as methods fraught with deceit. One who seeks to govern steeds by improper methods only makes them furious. Drinking-shops, public women, pimps, actors, gamblers and keepers of gaining houses, and other persons of this kind, who are sources of disorder to the state, should all be checked. Residing within the realm, these afflict and injure the better classes of the subjects. Nobody should ask anything of anyone when there is no distress. Manu himself in days of old has laid down this injunction in respect of all men.[254] If all men were to live by asking or begging and abstain from work, the world would doubtless come to an end. The king alone is competent to restrain and check. That king who does not restrain his subjects (from sin) earns a fourth part of the sins committed by his people (in consequence of the absence of royal protection). This is the declaration of the Srutis. Since the king shares the sins of his subjects like their merits, he should, therefore, O monarch, restrain those subjects of his that are sinful. The king that neglects to restrain them becomes himself sinful. He earns (as already said) a fourth part of their sins as he does a fourth part of their merits. The following faults of which I speak should be checked. They are such as impoverish everyone. What wicked act is there that a person governed by passion would not do? A person governed by passion indulges in stimulants and meat, and appropriates the wives and the wealth of other people, and sets a bad example (for imitation by others). They that do not live upon alms may beg in seasons of distress. The king should, observant of righteousness, make gifts unto them from compassion but not from fear. Let there be no beggars in thy kingdom, nor robbers. It is the robbers (and not virtuous men) that give unto beggars. Such givers are not real benefactors of men. Let such men reside in thy dominions as advance the interests of others and do them good, but not such as exterminate others. Those officers, O king, that take from the subjects more than what is due should be punished. Thou shouldst then appoint others so that these will take only what is due. Agriculture, rearing of cattle, trade and other acts of a similar nature, should be caused to be carried on by many persons on the principle of division of labour.[255] If a person engaged in agriculture, cattle-rearing, or trade, becomes inspired with a sense of insecurity (in consequence of thieves and tyrannical officers), the king, as a consequence, incurs infamy. The king should always honour those subjects of his that are rich and should say unto them, 'Do ye, with me, advance the interest of the people.' In every kingdom, they that are wealthy constitute an estate in the realm. Without doubt, a wealthy person is the foremost of men.[256] He that is wise, or courageous, or wealthy or influential, or righteous, or engaged in penances, or truthful in speech, or gifted with intelligence, assists in protecting (his fellow subjects). "'"For these reasons, O monarch, do thou love all creatures, and display the qualities of truth, sincerity, absence of wrath, and abstention from injury! Thou shouldst thus wield the rod of chastisement, and enhance thy treasury and support thy friends and consolidate thy kingdom thus, practising the qualities of truthfulness and sincerity and supported by thy friends, treasury and forces!"'" SECTION LXXXIX "'Bhishma said, "Let not such trees as yield edible fruits be cut down in thy dominions. Fruits and roots constitute the property of the Brahmanas. The sages have declared this to be an ordinance of religion. The surplus, after supporting the Brahmanas, should go to the support of other people. Nobody should take anything by doing an injury to the Brahmanas.[257] If a Brahmana, afflicted for want of support, desires to abandon a kingdom for obtaining livelihood (elsewhere), the king, O monarch, should, with affection and respect, assign unto him the means of sustenance. If he does not still abstain (from leaving the kingdom), the king should repair to an assembly of Brahmanas and say, 'Such a Brahmana is leaving the kingdom. In whom shall my people then find an authority for guiding them?'[258] If after this, he does not give up his intention of leaving, and says anything, the king should say unto him, 'Forget the past.' This, O son of Kunti, is the eternal way of royal duty.[259] The king should further say unto him, 'Indeed, O Brahmana, people say that that only should be assigned to a Brahmana which would be just sufficient for maintaining him. I, however, do not accept that opinion. On the other hand, I think that if a Brahmana seeks to leave a kingdom for the king's neglect in providing him with means of support, such means should be assigned to him, and, further, if he intends to take that step for procuring the means of luxury, he should still be requested to stay and supplied with ever those means.'[260] Agriculture, cattle-rearing, and trade, provide all men with the means of living. A knowledge of the Vedas, however, provide them with the means of obtaining heaven. They, therefore, that obstruct the study of the Vedas and the cause of Vedic practices, are to be regarded as enemies of society.[261] It is for the extermination of these that Brahman created Kshatriyas. Subdue thy foes, protect thy subjects, worship the deities in sacrifices, and fight battles with courage, O delighter of the Kurus! A king should protect those that deserve protection. The king who does this is the best of rulers. Those kings that do not exercise the duty of protection live a vain life. For the benefit of all his subjects the king should always seek to ascertain the acts and thoughts of all, O Yudhishthira; and for that reason he should set spies and secret agents.[262] Protecting others from thy own, and thy own from others, as also others from others, and thy own from thy own, do thou always cherish thy people. Protecting his own self first from every one, the king should protect the earth. Men of knowledge have said that everything has its root in self. The king should always reflect upon these, viz., What are his laches, to what evil habits he is addicted, what are the sources of his weakness, and what are the sources of his faults. The king should cause secret and trusted agents to wander through the kingdom for ascertaining whether his conduct as displayed on the previous day has or has not met with the approbation of the people. Indeed, he should ascertain whether his conduct is or is not generally praised, or, is or is not acceptable to the people of the provinces, and whether he has or has not succeeded in earning a good name in his kingdom. Amongst those that are virtuous and possessed of wisdom, those that never retreat from battle, and those that do not reside in thy kingdom, those that are dependent on thee, and those that are thy ministers, as well as those that are independent of party, they that praise or blame thee should never be objects of disregard with thee, O Yudhishthira![263] No man, O sire, can succeed in earning the good opinion of all persons in the world. All persons have friends, foes, and neutrals, O Bharata!" "'Yudhishthira said, "Among persons all of whom are equal in might of arms and accomplishments, whence does one acquire superiority over all the rest, and whence does that one succeed in ruling over them?" "'Bhishma said, "Creatures that are mobile devour things that are immobile; animals again that have teeth devour those that have no teeth; wrathful snakes of virulent poison devour smaller ones of their own species. (Upon this principle), among human beings also, the king, who is strong, preys upon those that are weak. The king, O Yudhishthira, should always be heedful of his subjects as also of his foes. If he becomes heedless, they fall upon him like vultures (on carrion). Take care, O king, that the traders in thy kingdom who purchase articles at prices high and low (for sale), and who in course of their journeys have to sleep or take rest in forest and inaccessible regions,[264] be not afflicted by the imposition of heavy taxes. Let not the agriculturists in thy kingdom leave it through oppression; they, who bear the burthens of the king, support the other residents also of the kingdom.[265] The gifts made by thee in this world support the gods, Pitris, men, Nagas, Rakshasas, birds, and animals. These, O Bharata, are the means of governing a kingdom and protecting its rulers. I shall again discourse to thee on the subject, O son of Pandu!"'" SECTION XC "'Bhishma said, "That foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas, viz., Utathya of Angirasa's race, discoursed cheerfully (on former occasion) unto Yuvanaswa's son Mandhatri. I shall now, O Yudhishthira, recite to thee everything that Utathya, that foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas, had said unto that king." "'"Utathya said, 'One becomes a king for acting in the interests of righteousness and not for conducting himself capriciously. Know this, O Mandhatri; the king is, indeed, the protector of the world. If the king acts righteously, he attains to the position of a god.[266] On the other hand, if he acts unrighteously, he sinks into hell. All creatures rest upon righteousness. Righteousness, in its turn, rests upon the king. That king, therefore, who upholds righteousness, is truly a king. That king who is endued with a righteous soul and with every kind of grace is said to be an embodiment of virtue. If a king fails to chastise unrighteousness, the gods desert his mansion and he incurs obloquy among men. The efforts of men who are observant of their own duties are always crowned with success. For this reason all men seek to obey the dictates of righteousness which are productive of prosperity. When sinfulness is not restrained, righteous behaviour comes to an end and unrighteous behaviour increases greatly. When sinfulness is not restrained, no one can, according to the rights of property as laid down in the scriptures, say, "This thing is mine and this is not mine." When sinfulness prevails in the world, men cannot own and enjoy their own wives and animals and fields and houses. The deities receive no worship, the Pitris no offerings in Sraddhas, and guests no hospitality, when sinfulness is not restrained. The regenerate classes do not study the Vedas, or observe high vows, or spread out sacrifices, when sinfulness is not restrained. The minds of men, O king, become weak and confounded like those of persons wounded with weapons, when sinfulness is not restrained. Casting their eyes on both the worlds, the Rishis made the king, that superior being, intending that he should be the embodiment of righteousness on earth.[267] He is called Rajan in whom righteousness shines. That king, again in whom there is no righteousness, is called a Vrishala.[268] The divine Dharma (righteousness) has another name, viz., Vrisha. He who weakens Vrisha is called by the name of Vrishala. A king should, therefore, advance the cause of righteousness. All creatures grow in the growth of righteousness, and decay with its decay. Righteousness, therefore, should never be permitted to decay. Righteousness is called Dharma because it aids the acquisition and preservation of wealth (Dhana). The sages, O king, have declared that Dharma restrains and sets bounds to all evil acts of men. The self-born (Brahman) created Dharma for the advancement and growth of creatures. For this reason, a king should act according to the dictates of Dharma for benefiting his subjects. For this reason also, O tiger among kings, Dharma has been said to be the foremost of all things. That foremost of men who rules his subjects righteously is called a king. Disregarding lust and wrath, observe thou the dictates of righteousness. Among all things, O chief of Bharata's race, that conduce to the prosperity of kings, righteousness is the foremost. Dharma, again, has sprung from the Brahmana. For this reason, the Brahmana should always be worshipped. Thou shouldst, O Mandhatri, gratify with humility the wishes of Brahmanas. By neglecting to gratify the wishes of Brahmanas, the king brings danger on himself. In consequence of such neglect, he fails to obtain any accession of friends while his foes increase in number. In consequence of malice towards the Brahmanas springing from his folly, the goddess of prosperity who had formerly dwelt with him became enraged and deserted the Asura Vali, the son of Virochana. Deserting the Asura she repaired to Indra, the chief of the deities. Beholding the goddess living with Purandara, Vali indulged in many vain regrets. This, O puissant one, is the result of malice and pride. Be thou awakened, O Mandhatri, so that the goddess of prosperity may not in wrath desert thee. The Srutis declare that Unrighteousness begat a son named Pride upon the goddess of prosperity. This Pride, O king, led many among the gods and the Asuras to ruin. Many royal sages also have suffered destruction on his account. Do thou, therefore, awaken, O king! He who succeeds in conquering him becomes a king. He, on the other hand, who suffers himself to be conquered by him, becomes a slave. If, O Mandhatri, thou wishest for an eternal life (of felicity), live as a king should that does not indulge in these two, viz., Pride and Unrighteousness! Abstain from companionship with him that is intoxicated (with pride), him that is heedless (of the dictates of honesty), him that is a scoffer of religion, him that is insensate, and forbear to pay court to all of them when united. Keep thyself aloof from the company of ministers whom thou hast once punished and especially of women, as also from mountains and uneven lands and inaccessible fastnesses and elephants and horses and (noxious) reptiles. Thou shouldst also give up wandering in the night, and avoid the faults of stinginess and vanity and boastfulness and wrath. Thou shouldst never have intercourse with unknown women, or those of equivocal sex, or those that are lewd, or those that are the wives of other men, or those that are virgins. When the king does not restrain vice, a confusion of castes follows, and sinful Rakshasas, and persons of neutral sex, and children destitute of limbs or possessed of thick tongues, and idiots, begin to take birth in even respectable families. Therefore, the king should take particular care to act righteously, for the benefit of his subjects. If a king acts heedlessly, a great evil becomes the consequence. Unrighteousness increases causing a confusion of castes. Cold sets in during the summer months, and disappears when its proper season comes. Drought and flood and pestilence afflict the people. Ominous stars arise and awful comets appear on such occasions. Diverse other portents, indicating destruction of the kingdom, make their appearance. If the king does not take measures for his own safety and does not protect his subjects, the latter first meet with destruction and then destruction seizes the king himself. Two persons combining together snatch the wealth of one, and many acting in concert rob the two. Maidens are deflowered. Such a state of things is said to arise from the king's faults. All rights of property come to an end among men, when the king, abandoning righteousness, acts heedlessly.'"'" SECTION XCI "'"Utathya said, 'If the deity of the clouds pours rain seasonably and the king acts virtuously, the prosperity that ensues maintain the subjects in felicity. That washerman who does not know how to wash away the filth of cloth without taking away its dye, is very unskilful in his profession. That person among Brahmanas or Kshatriyas or Vaisyas who, having fallen away from the proper duties of his order, has become a Sudra, is truly to be compared to such a washerman. Menial service attaches to the Sudra; agriculture to the Vaisya; the science of chastisement to the Kshatriya, and Brahmacharya, penances, mantras, and truth, attach to the Brahmana. That Kshatriya who knows how to correct the faults of behaviour of the other orders and to wash them clean like a washerman is really their father and deserves to be their king. The respective ages called Krita, Treta, Dwapara and Kali, O bull of Bharata's race, are all dependent on the conduct of the king. It is the king who constitutes the age.[269] The four orders, the Vedas and the duties in respect of the four modes of life, all become confused and weakened when the king becomes heedless. The three kinds of Fire, the three Vedas, and sacrifices with Dakshina, all become lost when the king becomes heedless. The king is the creator of all creatures, and the king is their destroyer. That king who is of righteous soul is regarded as the creator, while he that is sinful is regarded as the destroyer. The king's wives, sons, kinsmen, and friends, all become unhappy and grieve when the king becomes heedless. Elephants and steeds and kine and camels and mules and asses and other animals all lose their vigour when the king becomes unrighteous. It is said, O Mandhatri, that the Creator created Power (represented by the king) for the object of protecting Weakness. Weakness is, indeed, a great being, for everything depends upon it.[270] All creatures worship the king. All creatures are the children of the king. If, therefore, O monarch, the king becomes unrighteous, all creatures come to grief. The eyes of the weak, of the Muni, and of the snake of virulent poison, should be regarded as unbearable. Do not, therefore, come into (hostile) contact with the weak. Thou shouldst regard the weak as always subject to humiliation. Take care that the eyes of the weak do not burn thee with thy kinsmen. In a race scorched by the eyes of the weak, no children take birth. Such eyes burn the race to its very roots. Do not, therefore, come into (hostile) contact with the weak. Weakness is more powerful than even the greatest Power, for that Power which is scorched by Weakness becomes totally exterminated. If a person, who has been humiliated or struck, fails, while shrieking for assistance, to obtain a protector, divine chastisement overtakes the king and brings about his destruction. Do not, O sire, while in enjoyment of Power, take wealth from those that are Weak. Take care that that the eyes of the Weak do not burn thee like a blazing fire. The tears shed by weeping men afflicted with falsehood slay the children and animals of those that have uttered those falsehoods. Like a cow a sinful act perpetrated does not produce immediate fruits.[271] If the fruit is not seen in the perpetrator himself, it is seen in his son or in his son's son, or daughter's son. When a weak person fails to find a rescuer, the great rod of divine chastisement falls (upon the king). When all subjects of a king (are obliged by distress to) live like Brahmanas, by mendicancy, such mendicancy brings destruction upon the king. When all the officers of the king posted in the provinces unite together and act with injustice, the king is then said to bring about a state of unmixed evil upon his kingdom. When the officers of the king extort wealth, by unjust means or acting from lust or avarice, from persons piteously soliciting mercy, a great destruction then is sure to overtake the king. A mighty tree, first starting into life, grows into large proportions. Numerous creatures then come and seek its shelter. When, however, it is cut down or consumed in a conflagration, those that had recourse to it for shelter all become homeless.[272] When the residents of a kingdom perform acts of righteousness and all religious rites, and applaud the good qualities of the king, the latter reaps an accession of affluence. When, on the other hand, the residents, moved by ignorance, abandon righteousness and act unrighteously, the king becomes overtaken by misery. When sinful men whose acts are known are allowed to move among the righteous (without being punished for their misdeeds), Kali then overtakes the rulers of those realms.[273] When the king causes chastisement to overtake all wicked people, his kingdom thrives in prosperity. The kingdom of that king certainly thrives who pays proper honours to his ministers and employs them in measures of policy and in battles. Such a ruler enjoys the wide earth for ever. That king who duly honours all good acts and good speeches succeeds in earning great merit. The enjoyment of good things after sharing them with others, paying proper honours to the ministers, and subjugation or persons intoxicated with strength, are said to constitute the great duty of a king. Protecting all men by words, body, and deeds, and never forgiving his son himself (if he has offended), constitute the great duty of the king. The maintenance of those that are weak by sharing with them the things he has, and thereby increasing their strength constitute the duty of the king. Protection of the kingdom, extermination of robbers, and conquering in battle, constitute the duty of the king. Never to forgive a person however dear, if he has committed an offence by act or word, constitutes the duty of the king. Protecting those that solicit shelter, as he would protect his own children, and never depriving one of the honours to which he is entitled constitute the duty of the king.[274] Adoring the deities, with a devoted heart, in sacrifices completed by presents, and subduing lust and envy, constitute the duty of the king. Wiping the tears of the distressed, the helpless, and the old, and inspiring them with joy, constitute the duty of the king. Aggrandising friends, weakening foes, and honouring the good, constitute the duty of the king. Cheerfully observing the obligations of truth, always making gifts of land, entertaining guests, and supporting dependents, constitute the duty of the king. That king who favours those that deserve favours and chastises those that deserve chastisement earns great merit both here and hereafter. The king is Yama himself. He is, O Mandhatri, the god (incarnate) unto all that are righteous. By subduing his senses he succeeds in acquiring great affluence. By not subduing them he incurs sin.[275] Paying proper honours unto Ritwijas and priests and preceptors, and doing good offices unto them constitute the duty of the king. Yama governs all creatures without observing distinctions. The king should imitate him in his behaviour by restraining all his subjects duly. The king is said to resemble the Thousand-eyed (Indra) in every respect. That, O bull among men, should be regarded as righteousness which is regarded as such by him. Thou shouldst, without being heedless, cultivate forgiveness, intelligence, patience, and the love of all creatures. Thou shouldst also ascertain the strength and weakness of all men and learn to distinguish between right and wrong. Thou shouldst conduct thyself with propriety towards all creatures, make gifts, and utter agreeable and sweet words. Thou shouldst maintain the residents of thy city and the provinces in happiness. A king who is not clever, never succeeds in protecting his subjects. Sovereignty, O sire, is a very happy burthen to bear. Only that king who is possessed of wisdom and courage, and who is conversant with the science of chastisement, can protect a kingdom. He, on the other hand, who is without energy and intelligence, and who is not versed in the great science, is incompetent to bear the burthen of sovereignty. Aided by ministers of handsome features and good birth, clever in business, devoted to their master, and possessed of great learning, thou shouldst examine the hearts and acts of all men including the very ascetics in the forests. Conducting thyself thus, thou wilt be able to learn the duties of all orders of men. That will aid thee in observing thy own duties, whether when thou art in thy country or when thou repairest to other realms. Amongst these three objects, viz., Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure, Virtue is the foremost. He that is of virtuous soul obtains great happiness both here and hereafter. If men be treated with honour, they can abandon (for the sake of the honour thou mayst give them) their very wives and sons. By attaching good men to himself (by doing good offices unto them), by gifts, sweet words, heedfulness and purity of behaviour, a king may win great prosperity. Do not, therefore, O Mandhatri, be heedless to these qualities and acts. The king should never be heedless in looking after his own laches, as also after those of his foes. He should act in such a way that his foes may not be able to detect his laches, and he should himself assail them when theirs are visible. This is the way in which Vasava, and Yama, and Varuna, and all the great royal sages have acted. Do thou observe the same conduct. Do thou, O great king, adopt this behaviour which was followed by those royal sages. Do thou soon, O bull of Bharata's race, adept this heavenly road. The gods, the Rishis, the Pitris, and the Gandharvas, possessed of great energy, sing the praises, both here and hereafter, of that king whose conduct is righteous.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Utathya, O Bharata, Mandhatri unhesitatingly did as he was directed, and became the sole lord of the wide earth. Do thou also, O king, act righteously like Mandhatri. Thou wilt then, after ruling the earth, obtain an abode in heaven."'" SECTION XCII "'Yudhishthira said, "How should a righteous king, who is desirous of adhering to a course of righteousness, behave? I ask thee this, O foremost of men! Answer me, O Grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of what Vamadeva gifted with great intelligence and acquainted with the true import of everything sang in ancient time. Once upon a time, king Vasumanas, possessed of knowledge and fortitude and purity of behaviour, asked the great Rishi Vamadeva of high ascetic merit, saying, 'Instruct me, O holy one, in words fraught with righteousness and of grave import, as to the conduct to be observed by me so that I may not fall away from the duties prescribed for me.' Unto him of a golden complexion and seated at his ease like Yayati, son of Nahusha, that foremost of ascetics, viz., Vamadeva, of great energy, said as follows: "'"Vamadeva said, 'Do thou act righteously. There is nothing superior to righteousness. Those kings that are observant of righteousness, succeed in conquering the whole earth. That king who regards righteousness to be the most efficacious means for accomplishing his objects, and who acts according to the counsels of those that are righteous, blazes forth with righteousness. That king who disregards righteousness and desires to act with brute force, soon falls away from righteousness and loses both Righteousness and Profit. That king who acts according to the counsels of a vicious and sinful minister becomes a destroyer of righteousness and deserves to be slain by his subjects with all his family. Indeed, he very soon meets with destruction. That king who is incompetent to discharge the duties of state-craft, who is governed by caprice in all his acts, and who indulges in brag, soon meets with destruction even if he happens to be ruler of the whole earth. That king, on the other hand, who is desirous of prosperity, who is free from malice, who has his senses under control, and who is gifted with intelligence, thrives in affluence like the ocean swelling with the waters discharged into it by a hundred streams. He should never consider himself to have a sufficiency of virtue, enjoyments, wealth, intelligence, and friends. Upon these depends the conduct of the world. By listening to these counsels, a king obtains fame, achievements, prosperity, and subjects. Devoted to virtue, that king who seeks the acquisition of virtue and wealth by such means, and who begins all his measures after reflecting upon their objects, succeeds in obtaining great prosperity. That king who is illiberal, and without affection, who afflicts his subjects by undue chastisements, and who is rash in his acts, soon meets with destruction. That king who is not gifted with intelligence fails to see his own faults. Covered with infamy here, he sinks into hell hereafter. If the king gives proper honour to them that deserve it, makes gifts, and recognises the value of sweet speeches by himself uttering them on all occasions, his subjects then dispel the calamities that overtake him, as if these had fallen upon themselves. That king who has no instructor in the ways of righteousness and who never asks others for counsels, and who seeks to acquire wealth by means that caprice suggests, never succeeds in enjoying happiness long. That king, on the other hand, who listens to the instructions of his preceptors in matters connected with virtue, who supervises the affairs of his kingdom himself, and who in all his acquisitions is guided by considerations of virtue, succeeds in enjoying happiness for a long time.'"'"[276] SECTION XCIII "'"Vamadeva continued, 'When the king, who is powerful, acts unrighteously towards the weak, they who take their birth in his race imitate the same conduct. Others, again, imitate that wretch who sets sin agoing. Such imitation of the man ungoverned by restraints soon brings destruction upon the kingdom. The conduct of a king who is observant of his proper duties, is accepted by men in general as a model for imitation. The conduct, however, of a king who falls away from his duties, is not tolerated by his very kinsfolk. That rash king who, disregarding the injunctions laid down in the scriptures, acts with highhandedness in his kingdom, very soon meets with destruction. That Kshatriya who does not follow the conduct observed from days of old by other Kshatriyas, conquered or unconquered, is said to fall away from Kshatriya duties. Having seized in battle a royal foe that did some good to the conqueror on a former occasion, that king who does not, actuated by malice, pay him honours, is said to fall away from Kshatriya duties. The king should display his power, live cheerfully, and do what is necessary in seasons of danger. Such a ruler becomes the beloved of all creatures and never falls away from prosperity. If thou doest disservice to any person, thou shouldst, when the turn comes, do him service. One who is not loved becomes an object of love, if he does what is agreeable. Untruthful speeches should be avoided. Thou shouldst do good to others without being solicited. Thou shouldst never abandon righteousness from lust or wrath or malice. Do not give harsh answers when questioned by anybody. Do not utter undignified speeches. Never be in a hurry to do anything. Never indulge in malice. By such means is a foe won over. Do not give way to exclusive joy when anything agreeable occurs, nor suffer thyself to be overwhelmed with sorrow when anything disagreeable occurs. Never indulge in grief when thy pecuniary resources are exhausted, and always remember the duty of doing good to thy subjects. That king who always does what is agreeable by virtue of his disposition achieves success in all his measures and is never shorn of prosperity. The king should always, with heedfulness, cherish that devoted servant who abstains from doing what is injurious to his master and who always does what is for his good. He should appoint in all great affairs persons that have subjugated their senses, that are devotedly loyal and of pure behaviour, and that are possessed of ability. That person, who by the possession of such qualifications pleases the king and who is never heedless in taking care of the interests of his master should be appointed by the king in the affairs of his kingdom. On the other hand, the king becomes divested of prosperity by appointing to important offices men that are fools and slaves of their senses, that are covetous and of disrespectable conduct, that are deceitful and hypocritical, that are malicious, wicked-souled, and ignorant, that are low-minded, and addicted to drink, gambling, women, and hunting. That king, who, first protecting his own self, protects others that deserve protection, feels the satisfaction of finding his subjects growing in prosperity. Such a king succeeds also in obtaining greatness. A king should, by secret agents that are devoted to him, watch the conduct and acts of other kings. By such means can he obtain superiority. Having injured a powerful king, one should not comfort himself with the thought that he (the injurer) lives at a great distance from the injured. Such a king when injured falls upon the injurer like the hawk swooping down upon its prey, in moments of heedlessness. A king whose power has been consolidated and who is confident of his own strength, should assail a neighbour who is weaker than himself but never one that is stronger. A king who is devoted to virtue, having acquired the sovereignty of the earth by prowess, should protect his subjects righteously and slaughter foes in battle. Everything belonging to this world is destined to destruction. Nothing here is durable. For this reason, the king, adhering to righteousness, should protect his subjects righteously. The defence of forts, battle, administration of justice, consultations on questions of policy, and keeping the subjects in happiness, these five acts contribute to enlarge the dominions of a king. That king who takes proper care of these is regarded to be the best of kings. By always attending to these, a king succeeds in protecting his kingdom. It is impossible, however, for one man to supervise all these matters at all times. Making over such supervision to his ministers, a king may govern the earth for ever.[277] The people make such a person their king who is liberal, who shares all objects of enjoyment with others, who is possessed of a mild disposition, who is of pure behaviour, and who will never abandon his subjects. He is obeyed in the world who, having listened to counsels of wisdom, accepts them, abandoning his own opinions. That king who does not tolerate the counsels of a well-wisher in consequence of their opposition to his own views, who listens with inattention to what is said unto him in opposition to his views, and who does not always follow the conduct of high and noble persons conquered or unconquered, is said to fall away from the duties of Kshatriyas. From ministers that have once been chastised, from women in especial, from mountains and inaccessible regions, from elephants and horses and reptiles, the king should always, with heedfulness, protect his own self.[278] That king who, abandoning his chief ministers, makes favourites of low persons, soon falls into distress, and never succeeds in compassing the (intended) ends of his measures. That king of infirm soul, who, yielding to the influence of wrath and malice, does not love and honour those amongst his kinsmen that are possessed of good qualities, is said to live on the very verge of destruction. That king, who attaches to himself accomplished persons by doing good to them even though he may not like them at heart, succeeds in enjoying fame for ever. Thou shouldst never impose taxes unseasonably. Thou shouldst not be grieved at the occurrence of anything disagreeable, nor rejoice exceedingly at anything agreeable. Thou shouldst always set thyself to the accomplishment of good acts. Who amongst the dependent kings is truly devoted to thee, and who is loyal to thee from fear, and who amongst them has faults, should always be ascertained by thee. The king, even if he be powerful, should trust them that are weak, for in moments of heedlessness the weak may assail the powerful like a flock of vultures seizing their prey. A man of sinful soul seeks to injure his master even if the latter be sweet-speeched and possessed of every accomplishment. Do not, therefore, place thy confidence upon such men. Nahusha's son Yayati, in declaring the mysteries of king-craft, said that a person engaged in ruling men should slay even foes that are contemptible.'"'" SECTION XCIV "'"Vamadeva said, 'The king should win victories without battles. Victories achieved by battles are not spoken of highly, O monarch, by the wise. When the sovereign's own power has not been confirmed, he should not seek to make new acquisitions. It is not proper that a king whose power has not been consolidated should seek to make such acquisitions. The power of that king whose dominions are wide and abound with wealth, whose subjects are loyal and contented, and who has a large number of officers, is said to be confirmed. That king whose soldiery are contented, gratified (with pay and prize), and competent to deceive foes can with even a small force subjugate the whole earth. The power of that king whose subjects, whether belonging to the cities or the provinces, have compassion for all creatures, and possessed of wealth and grain, is said to be confirmed. When the king thinks that his power is greater than that of a foe, he should then, aided by his intelligence, seek to acquire the latter's territories and wealth. A king whose resources are increasing, who is compassionate unto all creatures, who never loses any time by procrastination, and who is careful in protecting his own self, succeeds in earning advancement. That king who behaves deceitfully towards his own people that have not been guilty of any fault, shears his own self like a person cutting down a forest with an axe. If the king does not always attend to the task of slaying his foes, the latter do not diminish. That king, again, who knows how to kill his own temper finds no enemies. If the king be possessed of wisdom, he would never do any act that is disapproved by good men. He would, on the other hand, always engage himself in such acts as would lead to his own benefit and that of others. That king who, having accomplished all his duties, becomes happy in the approbation of his own conscience, has never to incur the reproach of others and indulge in regrets. That king who observes such conduct towards men succeeds in subjugating both the worlds and enjoy the fruits of victory.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Vamadeva, king Vasumana did as he was directed. Without doubt, thyself also, following these counsels, shalt succeed in conquering both the worlds."'" SECTION XCV "'Yudhishthira said, "If a Kshatriya desires to subjugate another Kshatriya in battle, how should the former act in the matter of that victory? Questioned by me, do thou answer it." "'Bhishma said, "The king, with or without an army at his back, entering the dominions of the king he would subjugate, should say unto all the people, 'I am your king. I shall always protect you. Give me the just tribute or encounter me in battle.' If the people accept him for their king, there need not be any fighting. If, without being Kshatriyas by birth, they show signs of hostility, they should then, observant as they are of practices not laid down for them, be sought to be restrained by every means. People of the other orders do take up arms (for resisting the invader) if they behold the Kshatriya unarmed for fight, incapable of protecting himself, and making too much of the enemy."[279] "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, how that Kshatriya king should conduct himself in fight who advances against another Kshatriya king." "'Bhishma said, "A Kshatriya must not put on armour for fighting a Kshatriya unclad in mail. One should fight one, and abandon the opponent when the latter becomes disabled.[280] If the enemy comes clad in mail, his opponent also should put on mail. If the enemy advances backed by an army, one should, backed by an army, challenge him to battle. If the enemy fights aided by deceit, he should be met with the aid of deceit. If, on the other hand, he fights fairly, he should be resisted with fair means. One should not on horseback proceed against a car-warrior. A car-warrior should proceed against a car-warrior. When an antagonist has fallen into distress, he should not be struck; nor should one that has been frightened, nor one that has been vanquished.[281] Neither poisoned nor barbed arrows should be used. These are the weapons of the wicked. One should fight righteously, without yielding to wrath or desiring to slay. A weak or wounded man should not be slain, or one that is sonless; or one whose weapon has been broken; or one that has fallen into distress; or one whose bow-string has been cut; or one that has lost his vehicle. A wounded opponent should either be sent to his own home, or, if brought to the victor's quarters, should have his wounds attended to by skilful surgeons. When in consequence of a quarrel between righteous kings, a righteous warrior falls into distress, (his wounds should be attended to and) when cured he should be set at liberty. This is the eternal duty. Manu himself, the son of the Self-born (Brahman), has said that battles should be fought fairly. The righteous should always act righteously towards those that are righteous. They should adhere to righteousness without destroying it. If a Kshatriya, whose duty it is to fight righteously, wins a victory by unrighteous means, he becomes sinful. Of deceitful conduct, such a person is said to slay his own self. Such is the practice of those that are wicked. Even he that is wicked should be subdued by fair means. It is better to lay down life itself in the observance of righteousness than to win victory by sinful means. Like a cow, O king, perpetrated sin does not immediately produce its fruits. That sin overwhelms the perpetrator after consuming his roots and branches. A sinful person, acquiring wealth by sinful means, rejoices greatly. But the sinner, gaining advancement by sinful ways, becomes wedded to sin. Thinking that virtue has no efficacy, he jeers at men of righteous behaviour. Disbelieving in virtue, he at last meets with destruction. Though enmeshed in the noose of Varuna, he still regards himself immortal. Like unto a large leathern bag puffed up with wind, the sinner dissociates himself entirely from virtue. Soon, however, he disappears like a tree on the riverside washed away with its very roots. Then people, beholding him resemble an earthen pot broken on a stony surface, speak of him as he deserves. The king should, therefore, seek both victory and the enhancement of his resources, by righteous means."'" SECTION XCVI "'Bhishma said, "A king should never desire to subjugate the earth by unrighteous means, even if such subjugation would make him the sovereign of the whole earth. What king is there that would rejoice after obtaining victory by unfair means? A victory stained by unrighteousness is uncertain and never leads to heaven. Such a victory, O bull of Bharata's race, weakens both the king and the earth. A warrior whose armour has fallen off, or who begs for quarter, saying, 'I am thine' or joining his hands, or who has laid aside his weapon, may simply be seized but never slain. If a hostile king be vanquished by the troops of the invader, the latter should not himself fight his vanquished foe. On the other hand, he should bring him to his palace and persuade him for a whole year to say, 'I am thy slave!' Whether he says or does not say this, the vanquished foe, by living for a year in the house of his victor, gains a new lease of life.[282] If a king succeeds in bringing by force a maiden from the house of his vanquished foe, he should keep her for a year and ask her whether she would wed him or any one else. If she does not agree, she should then be sent back. He should behave similarly in respect of all other kinds of wealth (such as slaves) that are acquired by force. The king should never appropriate the wealth confiscated from thieves and others awaiting execution. The kine taken from the enemy by force should be given away to the Brahmanas so that they may drink the milk of those animals. The bulls taken from the enemy should be set to agriculture work or returned to the enemy.[283] It is laid down that a king should fight one that is a king. One that is not a king should never strike one that is a king. If a Brahmana, desirous of peace, fearlessly goes between two contending armies, both should immediately abstain from fight. He would break an eternal rule that would slay or wound a Brahmana. If any Kshatriya breaks that rule, he would become a wretch of his order. In addition to this, that Kshatriya who destroys righteousness and transgresses all wholesome barriers does not deserve to be reckoned as a Kshatriya and should be driven from society. A king desirous of obtaining victory should never follow such conduct. What gain can be greater than victory won righteously? The excitable classes (of a kingdom recently conquered) should, without delay, be conciliated with soothing speeches and gifts. This is a good policy for the king to adopt. If instead of doing this, these men be sought to be governed with impolicy, they would then leave the kingdom and side with (the victor's) foes and wait for the accession of calamities (in order that they may then make head against the victor). Discontented men, watching for the calamities of the king, promptly side with the latter's foes, O monarch, in times of danger. An enemy should not be deceived by unfair means, nor should be wounded mortally. For, if struck mortally, his very life may pass away.[284] If a king possessed of little resources be gratified therewith, he would regard life alone to be much.[285] That king whose dominions are extensive and full of wealth, whose subjects are loyal, whose servants and officers are all contented, is said to have his roots firm. That king whose Ritwijas and priests and preceptors and others about him that are well-versed in all scriptures and deserving of honours are duly respected, is said to be conversant with the ways of the world. It was by such behaviour that Indra got the sovereignty of the world. It is by this behaviour that earthly kings succeed in obtaining the status of Indra. King Pratardana, subjugating his foes in a great battle, took all their wealth, including their very grain and medicinal herbs, but left their land untouched. King Divodasa, after subjugating his foes, brought away the very remnants of their sacrificial fires, their clarified butter (intended for libations), and their food. For this reason he was deprived of the merit of his conquests.[286] King Nabhaga (after his conquests) gave away whole kingdoms with their rulers as sacrificial presents unto the Brahmanas, excepting the wealth of learned Brahmanas and ascetics. The behaviour, O Yudhishthira, of all the righteous kings of old, was excellent, and I approve of it wholly. That king who desires his own prosperity should seek for conquests by the aid of every kind of excellence but never with that of deceit or with pride."'" SECTION XCVII "'Yudhishthira said, "There are no practices, O king, more sinful than those of the Kshatriyas. In marching or in battle, the king slays large multitudes.[287] By what acts then does the king win regions of felicity? O bull of Bharata's race, tell this, O learned one, unto me that desire to know." "'Bhishma said, "By chastising the wicked, by attaching and cherishing the good, by sacrifices and gifts, kings become pure and cleansed. It is true, kings desirous of victory afflict many creatures, but after victory they advance and aggrandise all. By the power of gifts, sacrifices, and penances, they destroy their sins, and their merit increases in order that they may be able to do good to all creatures. The reclaimer of a field, for reclaiming it, takes up both paddy-blades and weeds. His action, however, instead of destroying the blades or paddy, makes them grow more vigorously. They that wield weapons, destroy many that deserve destruction. Such extensive destruction, however, causes the growth and advancement of those that remain. He who protects people from plunder, slaughter, and affliction, in consequence of thus protecting their lives from robbers, comes to be regarded as the giver of wealth, of life, and of food. The king, therefore, by thus adoring the deities by means of a union of all sacrifices whose Dakshina is the dispelling of everybody's fear, enjoys every kind of felicity here and attains to a residence in Indra's heaven hereafter.[288] That king who, going out, fights his foes in battles that have arisen for the sake of Brahmanas and lays down his life, comes to be regarded as the embodiment of a sacrifice with illimitable presents. If a king, with his quivers full of shafts, shoots them fearlessly at his foes, the very gods do not see anyone on earth that is superior to him. In such a case, equal to the number of shafts with which he pierces the bodies of his enemies, is the number of regions that he enjoys, eternal and capable of granting every wish. The blood that flows from his body cleanses him of all his sins along with the very pain that he feels on the occasion. Persons conversant with the scriptures say that the pains a Kshatriya suffers in battle operate as penances for enhancing his merit. Righteous persons, inspired with fear, stay in the rear, soliciting life from heroes that have rushed to battle, even as men solicit rain from the clouds. If those heroes, without permitting the beseechers to incur the dangers of battle, keep them in the rear by themselves facing those dangers and defend them at that time of fear, great becomes their merit. If, again, those timid persons, appreciating that deed of bravery, always respect those defenders, they do what is proper and just. By acting otherwise they cannot free themselves from fear. There is great difference between men apparently equal. Some rush to battle, amid its terrible din, against armed ranks of foes. Indeed, the hero rushes against crowds of foes, adopting the road to heaven. He, however, who is inspired with dastardly fear, seeks safety in flight, deserting his comrades in danger. Let not such wretches among men be born in thy race. The very gods with Indra at their head send calamities unto them that desert their comrades in battle and come with unwounded limbs. He who desires to save his own life-breaths by deserting his comrades, should be slain with sticks or stones or rolled in a mat of dry grass for being burnt to death. Those amongst the Kshatriyas that would be guilty of such conduct should be killed after the manner of killing animals.[289] Death on a bed of repose, after ejecting phlegm and urine and uttering piteous cries, is sinful for a Kshatriya. Persons acquainted with the scriptures do not applaud the death which a Kshatriya encounters with unwounded body. The death of a Kshatriya, O sire, at home is not praiseworthy. They are heroes. Any unheroic act of theirs is sinful and inglorious. In disease, one may be heard to cry, saying, 'What sorrow! How painful! I must be a great sinner.' With face emaciated and stench issuing from in his body and clothes, the sick man plunges his relatives into grief. Coveting the condition of those that are hale, such a man (amidst his tortures) repeatedly desires for death itself. One that is a hero, having dignity and pride, does not deserve such an inglorious death. Surrounded by kinsmen and slaughtering his foes in battle, a Kshatriya should die at the edge of keen weapons. Moved by desire of enjoyment and filled with rage, a hero fights furiously and does not feel the wounds inflicted on his limbs by foes. Encountering death in battle, he earns that high merit fraught with fame and respect of the world which belongs to his order and ultimately obtains a residence in Indra's heaven. The hero, by not showing his back in fight and contending by every means in his power, in utter recklessness of life itself, at the van of battle, obtains the companionship of Indra. Wherever the hero encountered death in the midst of foes without displaying ignoble fear or cheerlessness, he has succeeded in earning regions hereafter of eternal bliss."'" SECTION XCVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grand-sire, what regions are earned by unreturning heroes by encountering death in battle." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O Yudhishthira, is cited the old story of the discourse between Amvarisha and Indra. Amvarisha, the son of Nabhaga, having repaired to heaven that is so difficult of acquisition, beheld his own generalissimo in those celestial regions in the company of Indra. The king saw his puissant general blazing with every kind of energy, endued with celestial form, seated on a very beautiful car, and journeying (in that vehicle) up and up towards still higher regions. Beholding the prosperity of his general Sudeva, and observing how he traversed regions that were still higher, the high-souled Amvarisha, filled with surprise, addressed Vasava, in the following words. "'"Amvarisha said, 'Having duly governed the whole earth bounded by the seas, having from desire of earning religious merit practised all those duties that are common to the four orders as declared by the scriptures, having practised with rigid austerity all the duties of the Brahmacharya mode, having waited with dutiful obedience upon my preceptors and other reverend seniors, having studied with due observances the Vedas and the scriptures on kingly duties, having gratified guests with food and drink, the Pitris with offerings in Sraddhas, the Rishis with attentive study of the scriptures and with initiation (under proper forms into the mysteries of religion), and the gods with many excellent and high sacrifices, having duly observed Kshatriya duties according to the injunctions of the scriptures, having cast my eyes fearlessly upon hostile troops, I won many victories in battle, O Vasava! This Sudeva, O chief of the deities, was formerly the generalissimo of my forces. It is true. He was a warrior of tranquil soul. For what reason, however, has he succeeded in transcending me? He never worshipped the gods in high and great sacrifices. He never gratified the Brahmanas (by frequent and costly presents) according to the ordinance. For what reason, then, has he succeeded in transcending me?' "'"Indra said, 'Regarding this Sudeva, O sire, the great sacrifice of battle had often been spread out by him. The same becomes the case with every other man that engages in fight. Every warrior accoutred in armour, by advancing against foes in battle array, becomes installed in that sacrifice. Indeed, it is a settled conclusion that such a person, by acting in this way, comes to be regarded as the performer of the sacrifice of battle.' "'"Amvarisha said, 'What constitutes the libations in that sacrifice? What constitutes its liquid offerings? What is its Dakshina? Who, again, are regarded its Ritwijas? Tell me all this, O performer of a hundred sacrifices.' "'"Indra said, 'Elephants constitute the Ritwijas of that sacrifice, and steeds are its Audharyus. The flesh of foes constitutes its libations, and blood is its liquid offering.[290] Jackals and vultures and ravens, as also winged shafts, constitute its Sadasyas. These drink the remnants left of the liquid offering in this sacrifice and eat the remnants of its libations. Heaps of lances and spears, of swords and darts and axes, blazing, sharp, and well-tempered, constitute the ladles of the sacrificer. Straight, sharp, and well-tempered arrows, with keen points and capable of piercing the bodies of foes, impelled from well-stretched bows, constitute its large double-mouthed ladles. Sheathed in scabbards made of tiger-skin and equipped with handles made of ivory, and capable of cutting off the elephant's trunk, the swords form the Sphises of this sacrifice.[291] The strokes inflicted with blazing and keen lances and darts and swords and axes, all made of hard iron, constitute its profuse wealth procured from the respectable people by agreement in respect of the amount and period. The blood that runs over the field in consequence of the fury of the attack, constitutes the final libation, fraught with great merit and capable of granting every wish, in the Homa of this sacrifice. Cut, Pierce, and such other sounds, that are heard in the front ranks of the array, constitute the Samans sung by its Vedic chanters in the abode of Yama. The front ranks of the enemy's array constitute the vessel for the keep of its libations. The crowd of elephants and steeds and men equipped with shields are regarded to constitute the Syenachit fire of that sacrifice. The headless trunks that rise up after thousands have been slaughtered constitute the octagonal stake, made of Khadira wood, for the hero who performs that sacrifice. The shrieks that elephants utter when urged on with hooks, constitute its Ida mantras. The kettle-drums, with the slaps of palms forming the Vashats, O king, are its Trisaman Udgatri. When the property of a Brahmana is being taken away, he who casts off his body that is so dear for protecting that property, does, by that act of self-devotion, acquire the merit of a sacrifice with infinite presents. That hero who, for the sake of his master, displays prowess at the van of the array and shows not his back through fear, earns those regions of felicity that are mine. He who strews the altar of the sacrifice constituted by battle, with swords cased in blue scabbards and severed arms resembling heavy bludgeons, succeeds in winning regions of felicity like mine. That warrior who, resolved upon obtaining victory, penetrates into the midst of the enemy's ranks without waiting for any assistance, succeeds in winning regions of felicity like mine. That warrior who in battle, causes a river of blood to flow, terrible and difficult to cross, having kettle-drums for its frogs and tortoises, the bones of heroes for its sands, blood and flesh for its mire, swords and shields for its rafts, the hair of slain warriors for its floating weeds and moss, the crowds of steeds and elephants and cars for its bridges, standards and banners for its bushes of cane, the bodies of slain elephants for its boats and huge alligators, swords and scimitars for its larger vessels, vultures and Kankas and ravens for the rafts that float upon it, that warrior who causes such a river, difficult of being crossed by even those that are possessed of courage and power and which inspires all timid men with dread, is said to complete the sacrifice by performing the final ablutions. That hero whose altar (in such a sacrifice) is strewn over with the (severed) heads of foes, of steeds, and of elephants, obtains regions of felicity like mine. The sages have said that that warrior who regards the van of the hostile army as the chambers of his wives, who looks upon the van of his own army as the vessel for the keep of sacrificial offering, who takes the combatants standing to his south for his Sadasyas and those to his north as his Agnidhras, and who looks upon the hostile forces as his wedded wife, succeeds in winning all regions of felicity.[292] The open space lying between two hosts drawn up for fight constitutes the altar of such a sacrificer, and the three Vedas are his three sacrificial fires. Upon that altar, aided by the recollection of the Vedas, he performs his sacrifice. The inglorious warrior who, turning away from the fight in fear, is slain by foes, sinks into hell. There is no doubt in this. That warrior, on the other hand, whose blood drenches the sacrificial altar already strewn with hair and flesh and bones, certainly succeeds in attaining a high end. That powerful warrior who, having slain the commander of the hostile army, mounts the vehicle of his fallen antagonist, comes to be regarded as possessed of the prowess of Vishnu himself and the intelligence of Vrihaspati, the preceptor of the celestials. That warrior who can seize alive the commander of the hostile army or his son or some other respected leader, succeeds in winning regions of felicity like mine. One should never grieve for a hero slain in battle. A slain hero, if nobody grieves for him, goes to heaven and earns the respect of its denizens. Men do not desire to dedicate (for his salvation) food and drink. Nor do they bathe (after receiving the intelligence), nor go into mourning for him. Listen to me as I enumerate the felicity that is in store for such a person. Foremost of Apsaras, numbering by thousands, go out with great speed (for receiving the spirit of the slain hero) coveting him for their lord. That Kshatriya who duly observes his duty in battle, acquires by that act the merit of penances and of righteousness. Indeed, such conduct on his part conforms with the eternal path of duty. Such a man obtains the merits of all the four modes of life. The aged and the children should not be slain; nor one that is a woman; not one that is flying away; nor one that holds a straw in his lips[293]; nor one that says, "I am thine." Having slain in battle Jambha, Vritra, Vala, Paka, Satamaya, Virochana, the irresistible Namuchi, Samvara of innumerable illusions, Viprachitti,--all these sons of Diti and Danu, as also Prahlada, I myself have become the chief of the celestials.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of Sakra and approving of them, king Amvarisha comprehended how warriors succeed, (by battle as their means) in compassing success for themselves (in respect of winning regions of beatitude in heaven)."'" SECTION XCIX "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of the battle between Pratardana and the ruler of Mithila. The ruler of Mithila, viz., Janaka, after installation in the sacrifice of battle, gladdened all his troops (on the eve of fight). Listen to me, as I recite the story. Janaka, the high souled king of Mithila, conversant with the truth of everything, showed both heaven and hell unto his own warriors. He addressed them, saying, 'Behold, these are the regions, endued with great splendour, for those that fight fearlessly. Full of Gandharva girls, those regions are eternal and capable of granting every wish. There, on the other side, are the regions of hell, intended for those that fly away from battle. They would have to rot there for eternity in everlasting ingloriousness. Resolved upon casting away your very lives, do ye conquer your foes. Do not fall into inglorious hell. The laying down of life, (in battle) constitutes, in respect of heroes, their happy door of heaven.' Thus addressed by their king, O subjugator of hostile towns, the warriors of Mithila, gladdening their rulers, vanquished their foes in battle. They that are of firm souls should take their stand in the van of battle. The car-warriors should be placed in the midst of elephants. Behind the car-warriors should stand the horsemen. Behind the last should be placed the foot-soldiers all accoutred in mail. That king who forms his array in this manner always succeeds in vanquishing his foes. Therefore, O Yudhishthira, the array of battle should always be thus formed. Filled with rage, heroes desire to win blessedness in heaven by fighting fairly. Like Makaras agitating the ocean, they agitate the ranks of the foe. Assuring one another, they should gladden those (amongst them) that are cheerless. The victor should protect the land newly conquered (from acts of aggression). He should not cause his troops to pursue too much the routed foe. The onset is irresistible of persons that rally after the rout and that, despairing of safety, assail their pursuers. For this reason, O king, thou shouldst not cause thy troops to pursue too much the routed foe. Warriors of courage do not wish to strike them that run away with speed. That is another reason why the routed foe should not be pursued hotly. Things that are immobile are devoured by those that are mobile; creatures that are toothless are devoured by those that have teeth; water is drunk by the thirsty; cowards are devoured by heroes. Cowards sustain defeat though they have, like the victors, similar backs and stomachs and arms and legs. They that are afflicted with fear bend their heads and joining their hands stay before those that are possessed of courage. This world rests on the arms of heroes like a son on those of his sire. He, therefore, that is a hero deserves respect under every circumstance. There is nothing higher in the three worlds than heroism. The hero protects and cherishes all, and all things depend upon the hero."'" SECTION C "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, how kings desirous of victory should, O bull of Bharata's race, lead their troops to battle even by offending slightly against the rules of righteousness!" "'Bhishma said, "Some say that righteousness is made stable by truth; some, by reasoning; some, by good behaviour; and some, by the application of means and contrivances.[294] I shall presently tell thee what the means and contrivances, productive of immediate fruit, are. Robbers, transgressing all wholesome bounds, very often become destroyers of property and religious merit. For resisting and restraining them, I shall tell thee what the contrivances are, as indicated in the scriptures. Listen to me as I speak of those means for the success of all acts. Both kinds of wisdom, straight and crooked, should be within call of the king. Though acquainted with it, he should not, however, apply that wisdom which is crooked (for injuring others). He may use it for resisting the dangers that may overtake him. Enemies frequently injure a king by producing disunion (among his ministers or troops or allies or subjects). The king, conversant with deceit, may, by the aid of deceit, counteract those enemies. Leathern armour for protecting the bodies of elephants, armour of the same material for bovine bulls, bones, thorns, and keen-pointed weapons made of iron, coats of mail, yak-tails, sharp and well-tempered weapons, all kinds of armour, yellow and red, banners and standards of diverse hues, swords, and lances and scimitars of great sharpness and battle-axes, and spears and shields, should be manufactured and stored in abundance. The weapons should all be properly whetted. The soldiers should be inspired with courage and resolution. It is proper to set the troops in motion in the month of Chaitra or Agrahayana. The crops ripen about that time and water also does not become scarce. That time of the year, O Bharata, is neither very cold nor very hot. Troops should, therefore, be moved at that time. If the enemy, however, be overtaken by distress, troops should immediately be set in motion (without waiting for such a favourable time). These (two) are the best occasions for the motion of troops with a view to subjugate foes. That road which has abundance of water and grass along it, which is level and easy of march, should be adopted (in moving the troops). The regions lying near the road (on both its sides) should previously be well ascertained through spies possessed of skill and having an intimate knowledge of the woods. The troops must not, like animals, be marched through woody regions. Kings desirous of victory should, therefore, adopt good roads for marching their troops. In the van should be placed a division of brave men, endued with strength and high birth. As regards forts, that which has walls and a trench full of water on every side and only one entrance, is worthy of praise. In respect of invading foes, resistance may be offered from within it. In pitching the camp, a region lying near the woods is regarded as much better than one under the open sky by men conversant with war and possessed of military accomplishments. The camp should be pitched for the troops not far from such a wood. Pitching the camp at such a place, planting the foot-soldiers in a position of safety, and collision with the foe as soon as he comes, are the means for warding off danger and distress. Keeping the constellation called Ursa Major[295] behind them, the troops should fight taking up their stand like hills. By this means, one may vanquish even foes that are irresistible. The troops should be placed in such a position that the wind, the sun, and the planet Sukra[296] should blow and shine from behind them. As means for ensuing victory the wind is superior to the Sun, and the Sun is superior to Sukra, O Yudhishthira. Men conversant with war approve of a region that is not miry, not watery, not uneven, and not abounding with bricks and stone, as well-fitted for the operations of cavalry. A field that is free from mire and holes is fitted for car-warriors. A region that is overgrown with bushes and large trees and that is under water is fitted for elephant-warriors. A region that has many inaccessible spots, that is overgrown with large trees and topes of cane bushes, as also a mountainous or woody tract, is well-fitted for the operations of infantry. An army, O Bharata, which has a large infantry force, is regarded very strong. An army in which cars and horsemen predominate is regarded to be very effective in a clear (unrainy) day. An army, again, in which foot-soldiers and elephants predominate becomes effective in the rainy season. Having attended to these points (about the characters of the different kinds of forces and the manner of marching, quartering, and leading them), the king should turn his attention to the characteristics of place and time. That king, who having attended to all these considerations, sets out under a proper constellation and on an auspicious lunation, always succeeds in obtaining victory by properly leading his troops. No one should slay those that are asleep or thirsty or fatigued, or those whose accoutrements have fallen away, or one that has set his heart on final emancipation,[297] or one that is flying away, or one that is walking (unprepared) along a road, or one engaged in drinking or eating, or one that is mad, or one that is insane, or one that has been wounded mortally, or one that has been exceedingly weakened by his wounds, or one that is staying trustfully, or one that has begun any task without having been able to complete it,[298] or one that is skilled in some especial art (as mining, etc.), or one that is in grief, or one that goes out of the camp for procuring forage or fodder, or men who set up camps or are camp-followers, or those that wait at the gates of the king or of his ministers, or those that do menial services (unto the chiefs of the army), or those that are chiefs of such servants. Those amongst thy warriors that break the rank of foes, or rally thy retreating troops, should have their pay doubled and should be honoured by thee with food, drink, and seats equal to thy own. Those amongst such that are chiefs of ten soldiers should be made chiefs of a hundred. That heedful hero again (amongst them) who is the chief of a hundred soldiers should be made the chief of a thousand. Collecting together the principal warriors, they should be addressed, thus: 'Let us swear to conquer, and never to desert one another. Let those that are inspired with fear stay here. Let those also stay here that would cause their chiefs to be slain by themselves neglecting to act heroically in the press of battle. Let such men come as would never break away from battle or cause their own comrades to be slain. Protecting their own selves as also their comrades, they are certain to slay the enemy in fight. The consequence of flying away from battle are loss of wealth, death, infamy, and reproach.' Disagreeable and cutting speeches have to be heard by that man who flies away from battle, who loses his lips and teeth,[299] who throws away all his weapons, or who suffers himself to be taken as a captive by the foe. Let such evil consequences always overtake the warriors of our foes. Those that fly away from battle are wretches among men. They simply swell the tale of human beings on earth. For true manhood, however, they are neither here nor hereafter. Victorious foes, O sire, proceed cheerfully, their praises recited the while by bards, in pursuit of the flying combatants. When enemies, coming to battle tarnish the fame of a person, the misery the latter feels is more poignant, I think, than that of death itself. Know that victory is the root of religious merit and of every kind of happiness. That which is regarded as the highest misery by cowards is cheerfully borne by those that are heroes.[300] Resolved upon acquiring heaven, we should fight, regardless of life itself, and determined to conquer or die, attain a blessed end in heaven. Having taken such an oath, and prepared to throw away life itself, heroes should courageously rush against the enemy's ranks. In the van should be placed a division of men armed with swords and shields. In the rear should be placed the car-division. In the space intervening should be placed other classes of combatants. This should be the arrangement made for assailing the foe. Those combatants in the army that are veterans should fight in the van. They would protect their comrades behind them. Those amongst the army that would be regarded as foremost for strength and courage, should be placed in the van. The others should stand behind them. They that are inspired with fear should, with care, be comforted and encouraged. These weaker combatants should be placed on the field (without being withdrawn) for at least showing the number of the army (to the foe).[301] If the troops are few, they should be drawn close together for the fight. At times, if their leader wishes, the close array may be extended wide. When a small number of troops is to fight with a great army, the array called Suchimukha should be formed.[302] When a small force is engaged with a large one, the leader of the former may shake hands with his men and utter loud cries to effect, 'The enemy has broken! The enemy has broken!' Those among them that are endued with strength should resist the enemy, loudly unto their comrades, 'Fresh friends have arrived! Fearlessly strike at your foes!' Those that are in advance of the rest should utter loud shouts and make diverse kinds of noises, and should blow and beat Krakachas, cow-horns, drums, cymbals, and kettle-drums."'" SECTION CI "'Yudhishthira said, "Of what disposition, of what behaviour, of what form, how accoutred, and how armed should the combatants be in order that they may be competent for battle?" "'Bhishma said, "It is proper that those weapons and vehicles should be adopted (by particular bodies of combatants) with which they have become familiar by use. Brave soldiers, adopting those weapons and vehicles, engage in battle. The Gandharas, the Sindhus, and the Sauviras fight best with their nails and lances. They are brave and endued with great strength. Their armies are capable of vanquishing all forces. The Usinaras are possessed of great strength and skilled in all kinds of weapons. The Easterners are skilled in fighting from the backs of elephants and are conversant with all the ways of unfair fight. The Yavanas, the Kamvojas, and those that dwell around Mathura are well skilled in fighting with bare arms. The Southerners are skilled in fighting sword in hand. It is well-known that persons possessed of great strength and great courage are born in almost every country. Listen to me as I describe their indications. They that have voices and eyes like those of the lion or the tiger, they that have a gait like that of the lion and the tiger, and they that have eyes like those of the pigeon or the snake, are all heroes capable of grinding hostile ranks.[303] They that have a voice like deer, and eyes like those of the leopard or the bull, are possessed of great activity. They whose voice resembles that of bulls, are excitable, wicked, and wrathful. They that have a voice deep as that of the clouds, that have wrathful face, or faces like those of camels, they that have hooked noses and tongues, are possessed of great speed and can shoot or hurl their weapons to a great distance. They that have bodies curved like that of the cat, and thin hair and thin skin, become endued with great speed and restlessness and almost invincible in battle. Some that are possessed of eyes closed like those of the iguana, disposition that is mild, and speed and voice like the horses, are competent to fight all foes. They that are of well-knit and handsome and symmetrical frames, and broad chests, that become angry upon hearing the enemy's drum or trumpet, that take delight in affrays of every kind, that have eyes indicative of gravity, or eyes that seem to shoot out, or eyes that are green, they that have faces darkened with frowns, or eyes like those of the mongoose, are all brave and capable of casting away their lives in battle. They that have crooked eyes and broad foreheads and cheek-bones not covered with flesh and arms strong as thunder-bolts and fingers bearing circular marks, and that are lean with arteries and nerves that are visible, rush with great speed when the collision of battle takes place. Resembling infuriated elephants, they become irresistible. They that have greenish hair ending in curls, that have flanks, cheeks, and faces fat and full of flesh, that have elevated shoulders and broad necks, that have fearful visages and fat calves, that are fiery like (Vasudeva's horse) Sugriva or like the offspring of Garuda, the son of Vinata, that have round heads, large mouths, faces like those of cats, shrill voice and wrathful temper, that rush to battle, guided by its din, that are wicked in behaviour and full of haughtiness, that are of terrible countenances, and that live in the outlying districts, are all reckless of their lives and never fly away from battle. Such troops should always be placed in the van. They always slay their foes in fight and suffer themselves to be slain without retreating. Of wicked behaviour and outlandish manners, they regard soft speeches as indications of defeat. If treated with mildness, they always exhibit wrath against their sovereign."'" SECTION CII "'Yudhishthira said. "What are the well-known indications, O bull of Bharata's race, of the (future) success of an army? I desire to know them." "'Bhishma said, "I shall tell thee, O bull of Bharata's race, all the well-known indications of the (future) success of an army. When the gods become angry and men are urged by fate, persons of learning, beholding everything with the eye of heavenly knowledge, perform diverse auspicious acts and expiatory rites including homa and the silent recitation of mantras, and thus allay all evils.[304] That army in which the troops and the animals are all undepressed and cheerful, O Bharata, is sure to win a decided victory. The wind blows favourably from behind such troops. Rainbows appear in the sky. The clouds cast their shadows upon them and at times the sun shines upon them. The jackals become auspicious to them, and ravens and vultures as well. When these show such regard to the army, high success is sure to be won by it. Their (sacrificial) fires blaze up with a pure splendour, the light going upwards and the smokeless flames slightly bending towards the south. The libations poured thereon emit an agreeable fragrance. These have been said to be the indications of future success. The conchs and drums, blown and beat, send forth loud and deep peals. The combatants become filled with alacrity. These have been said to be the indications of future success. If deer and other quadrupeds be seen behind or to the left of those that have already set out for battle or of those that are about to set out, they are regarded auspicious. If they appear to the right of the warriors while about to engage in slaughter, that is regarded as an indication of success. If, however, they make their appearance in the van of such persons, they indicate disaster and defeat. If these birds, viz., swans and cranes and Satapatras and Chashas utter auspicious cries, and all the able-bodied combatants become cheerful, these are regarded as indications of future success. They whose array blazes forth with splendour and becomes terrible to look at in consequence of the sheen of their weapons, machines, armour, and standards as also of the radiant complexion of the faces of the vigorous men that stand within it, always succeed in vanquishing their foes. If the combatants of a host be of pure behaviour and modest deportment and attend to one another in loving-kindness, that is regarded as an indication of future success. If agreeable sounds and odors and sensations of touch prevail, and if the combatants become inspired with gratitude and patience, that is regarded as the root of success. The crow on the left of a person engaged in battle and on the right of him who is about to engage in it, is regarded auspicious. Appearing at the back, it indicates non-fulfilment of the objects in view, while its appearance in the front forebodes danger. Even after enlisting a large army consisting of the four kinds of forces, thou shouldst, O Yudhishthira, first behave peacefully. If thy endeavours after peace fail, then mayst thou engage in battle. The victory, O Bharata, that one acquired by battle is very inferior. Victory in battle, it seems, is dependent on caprice or destiny. When a large army breaks and the troops begin to fly away, it is exceedingly difficult to check their flight. The impetuosity of the flight resembles that of a mighty current of water or of a frightened herd of deer. Some have broken. For this, without adequate cause, others break, even they that are brave and skilled in fight. A large army, consisting of even brave soldiers, is like a large herd of Ruru deer.[305] Sometimes again it may be seen that even fifty men, resolute and relying upon one another, cheerful and prepared to lay down their lives, succeed in grinding enemies numerically much superior. Sometimes even five, or six, or seven men, resolute and standing close together, of high descent and enjoying the esteem of those that know them, vanquish foes much superior to them in number. The collision of battle is not desirable as long as it can be avoided. The policy of conciliation, or producing disunion, and making gifts should first be tried, the battle, it is said, should come after these. At the very sight of a (hostile) force, fear paralyses the timid, even as at the sight of the blazing bolt of heaven they ask, 'Oh, upon what would it fall?'[306] Having ascertained that a battle is raging, the limbs of those that go to join it, as also of him that is conquering, perspire profusely.[307] The entire country, O king, (that is the seat of war), becomes agitated and afflicted with all its mobile and immobile population. The very marrow of embodied creatures scorched with the heat of weapons, languishes with pain. A king should, therefore, on all occasions, apply the arts of conciliation, mixing them with measures of severity. When people are afflicted by foes, they always show a disposition to come to terms.[308] Secret agents should be sent for producing disunion amongst the allies of the foe. Having produced disunion, it is very desirable that peace should then be made with that king who happens to be more powerful than the foe (sought to be crushed). If the invader does not proceed in the way, he can never succeed in completely crushing his foe. In dealing with the foe, care should be taken for hemming him in from all sides. Forgiveness always comes to those that are good. It never comes to those that are bad. Listen now, O Partha, to the uses of forgiveness and of severity. The fame of a king who displays forgiveness after conquest spreads more widely. The very foes of a person that is of a forgiving disposition trust him even when he becomes guilty of a grave transgression. Samvara has said that having afflicted a foe first, forgiveness should be shown afterwards, for a wooden pole, if made straight without the application of heat in the first instance, very soon assumes its former state. Persons skilled in the scriptures do not, however, applaud this. Nor do they regard this as an indication of a good king. On the other hand, they say that a foe should be subdued and checked, like a sire subduing and checking a son, without anger and without destroying him. If, O Yudhishthira, a king becomes severe, he becomes an object of hatred with all creatures. If, on the other hand, he becomes mild, he becomes disregarded by all. Do thou, therefore, practise both severity and mildness. Before smiting, O Bharata, and while smiting, utter sweet words; and having smitten, show them compassion and let them understand that thou art grieving and weeping for them. Having vanquished an army, the king should address the survivors saying, 'I am not at all glad that so many have been slain by my troops. Alas, the latter, though repeatedly dissuaded by me, have not obeyed my direction. I wish they (that are slain) were all alive. They do not deserve such death. They were all good men and true, and unretreating from battle. Such men, indeed, are rare. He that has slain such a hero in battle, has surely done that which is not agreeable to me.' Having uttered such speeches before the survivors of the vanquished foe, the king should in secret honour those amongst his own troops that have bravely slain the foe. For soothing the wounded slayers for their sufferings at the hand of the foe, the king, desirous of attaching them to himself, should even weep, seizing their hands affectionately. The king should thus, under all circumstances, behave with conciliation. A king that is fearless and virtuous, becomes the beloved of all creatures. All creatures, also, O Bharata, trust such a ruler. Winning their trust, he succeeds in enjoying the earth as he pleases. The king should, therefore, by abandoning deceitfulness, seek to obtain the trust of all creatures. He should also seek to protect his subjects from all fears if he seek to enjoy the earth."'" SECTION CIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, how a king should behave towards foe that is mild, towards one that is fierce, and towards one that has many allies and a large force." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited, O Yudhishthira. the old narrative of the discourse between Vrihaspati and Indra. Once on a time, that slayer of hostile heroes, viz., Vasava, the chief of the celestials, joining his palms, approached Vrihaspati, and saluting him, said these words." "'"Indra said, 'How, O regenerate one, should I behave towards my foes? How should I subdue them by means of contrivances, without exterminating them? In a collision between two armies, victory may be won by either side. In what way should I behave so that this blazing prosperity that I have won and that scorches all my enemies may not desert me?' Thus addressed, Vrihaspati, skilled in Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure, possessed of a knowledge of kingly duties, and endued with great intelligence, answered Indra in the following words." "'"Vrihaspati said, 'One should never wish to subdue one's foes by quarrel. Excited with wrath and bereft of forgiveness, boys only seek quarrel. One that desires the destruction of a foe should not put that foe on his guard. On the other hand, one should never exhibit one's ire or fear or joy. He should conceal these within his own bosom. Without trusting one's foe in reality, one should behave towards him as if one trusted him completely. One should always speak sweet words unto one's foes and never do anything that is disagreeable. One should abstain from fruitless acts of hostility as also from insolence of speech. As a fowler, carefully uttering cries similar to those of the birds he wishes to seize or kill, captures and brings them under his power, even so should a king, O Purandara, bring his foes under subjection and then slay them if he likes. Having overcome one's foes, one should not sleep at ease. A foe that is wicked raises his head again like a fire carelessly put out making its appearance again. When victory may be won by either side, a hostile collision of arms should be avoided. Having lulled a foe into security, one should reduce him into subjection and gain one's object. Having consulted with his ministers and with intelligent persons conversant with policy, a foe that is disregarded and neglected, being all along unsubdued at heart, smites at the proper season, especially when the enemy makes a false step. By employing trusted agents of his own, such a foe would also render the other's forces inefficient by producing disunion. Ascertaining the beginning, the middle and the end of his foes,[309] a king should in secret cherish feelings of hostility towards them. He should corrupt the forces of his foe, ascertaining everything by positive proof, using the arts of producing disunion, making gifts, and applying poison. A king should never live in companionship with his foes. A king should wait long and then slay his foes. Indeed, he should wait, expecting the opportunity, so that he might come down upon his foe at a time when the latter would not expect him in the least. A king should never slay a large number of the troops of his foe, although he should certainly do that which would make his victory decisive. The king should never do such an injury to his foe as would rankle in the latter's heart.[310] Nor should he cause wounds by wordy darts and shafts. If the opportunity comes, he should strike at him, without letting it slip. Such, O chief of the gods, should be the conduct of a king desirous of slaying his foes towards those that are his foes. If an opportunity, with respect to the man who waits for it, once passes away, it can never be had again by the person desirous of acting. Acting according to the opinions of the wise, a king should only break the strength of his foe. He should never, when the opportunity is not favourable, seek to accomplish his objects. Nor should he, when the opportunity is at hand, persecute his foe.[311] Giving up lust and wrath and pride, the king should, acting with heedfulness, continually watch for the laches of his foes. His own mildness, the severity of his punishments, his inactivity and heedlessness, O chief of the gods, and the deceitful contrivances well applied (by his foes), ruin a foolish ruler. That king who can conquer these four faults and counteract the deceitful contrivances of his enemies succeeds, without doubt, in smiting them all. When only one minister (without needing any help) is competent to accomplish a secret object (of the king), the king should consult with that one minister only in respect of such object. Many ministers, if consulted, endeavour to throw the burden of the task upon one another's shoulders and even give publicity to that object which should be kept secret. If consultation with one be not proper, then only should the king consult with many. When foes are unseen, divine chastisement should be invoked upon them; when seen, the army, consisting of four kinds of forces, should be moved.[312] The king should first use the arts of producing disunion, as also those of conciliation. When the time for each particular means comes, that particular means should be applied. At times, the king should even prostrate himself before a powerful foe. It is again desirable that acting heedfully himself, he should seek to compass the victor's destruction when the latter becomes heedless. By prostrating one's self, by gift of tribute, by uttering sweet words, one should humble one's self before a more powerful king. One should (when the occasion for such acts comes) never do anything that may arouse the suspicions of one's powerful foe. The weaker ruler should, under such circumstances, carefully avoid every act that may awaken suspicion. A victorious king, again, should not trust his vanquished foes, for they that are vanquished always remain wakeful. There is nothing, O best of deities, that is more difficult of accomplishment than the acquisition of prosperity, O ruler of the immortals, by persons of a restless disposition. The very existence of persons of restless disposition is fraught with danger. Kings should, therefore, with close attention, ascertain their friends and foes. If a king becomes mild, he is disregarded. If he becomes fierce, he inspires people with dread. Therefore, do not be fierce. Do not, again, be mild. But be both fierce and mild. As a rapid current ceaselessly eats away the high bank and causes large landslips, even so heedlessness and error cause a kingdom to be ruined. Never attack many foes at the same time. By applying the arts of conciliation, or gift, or production of disunion, O Purandara, they should be ground one by one. As regards the remnant, (being few in number,) the victor may behave peacefully towards them. An intelligent king, even if competent for it, should not begin to crush all (his foes) at once.[313] When a king happens to have a large army consisting of sixfold forces[314] and teeming with horse, elephants, cars, foot, and engines, all devoted to him, when he thinks himself superior to his foe in many respects upon a fair comparison, then should he openly smite the foe without hesitation. If the foe be strong, the adoption of a policy of conciliation (towards him) is not worthy of approbation. On the other hand, chastisement by secret means is the policy that should be adopted. Nor should mildness of behaviour be adopted towards such foes, nor repeated expedition, for loss of crops, poisoning of wells and tanks, and suspicion in respect of the seven branches of administration, should be avoided.[315] The king should, on such occasions, apply diverse kinds of deception, diverse contrivances for setting his foes against one another, and different kinds of hypocritical behaviour. He should also, through trusted agents, ascertain the doings of his foes in their cities and provinces. Kings, O slayer of Vala and Vritra, pursuing their foes and entering their towers, seize and appropriate the best things that are obtainable there, and devise proper measures of policy in their own cities and dominions. Making gifts of wealth unto them in private, and confiscating their possessions publicly, without, however, injuring them materially, and proclaiming that they are all wicked men that have suffered for their own misdeeds, kings should send their agents to the cities and provinces of their foes. At the same time, in their own cities, they should, through other persons conversant with the scriptures, adorned with every accomplishment, acquainted with the ordinances of the sacred books and possessed of learning cause incantations and foe-killing rites to be performed.' "'"Indra said, 'What are the indications, O best of regenerate ones, of a wicked person? Questioned by me, tell me how I am to know who is wicked.' "'"Vrihaspati said, 'A wicked person is he who proclaims the faults of others at their back, who is inspired with envy at the accomplishments of others, and who remains silent when the merits of other people are proclaimed in his presence, feeling a reluctance to join in the chorus. Mere silence on such occasions is no indication of wickedness. A wicked person, however, at such times breathes heavily, bites his lips, and shakes his head. Such a person always mixes in society and speaks irrelevantly.[316] Such a man never does what he promises, when the eye of the person to whom he has given the assurance is not upon him. When the eye of the person assured is on him, the wicked man does not even allude to the subject. The wicked man eats by himself (and not with others on the same board), and finds fault with the food placed before him, saying, "All is not right today as on other days." His disposition shows itself in the circumstances connected with his sitting, lying, and riding. Sorrowing on occasions of sorrow and rejoicing on occasions of joy, are the indications of a friend. An opposite behaviour furnishes the indications of an enemy. Keep in thy heart these sayings, O ruler of the gods! The disposition of wicked men can never be concealed. I have now told thee, O foremost of deities, what the indications of a wicked person are. Having listened to the truths laid down in the scriptures, follow them duly, O ruler of the celestials!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having heard these words of Vrihaspati, Purandara, employed in subduing his foes, acted strictly according to them. Bent upon victory, that slayer of foes, when the opportunity came, obeyed these instructions and reduced all his enemies to subjection."'" SECTION CIV "'Yudhishthira said, "How should a righteous king, who is opposed by his own officers, whose treasury and army are no longer under his control, and who has no wealth, conduct himself for acquiring happiness?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, the story of Kshemadarsin is often recited. I shall narrate that story to thee. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! It has been heard by us that in days of old, when prince Kshemadarsin became weak in strength and fell into great distress, he repaired to the sage Kalakavrikshiya, and saluting him humbly, said unto him these words.[317] "'"The king said, 'What should a person like me who deserves wealth but who has, after repeated efforts, failed to recover his kingdom, do, O Brahmana, excepting suicide, thieving and robbery, acceptance of refuge with others, and other acts of meanness of a similar kind? O best of men, tell me this. One like thee that is conversant with morality and full of gratefulness is the refuge of a person afflicted by disease either mental or physical. Man should cast off his desires. By acting in that way, by abandoning joy and sorrow, and earning the wealth of knowledge, he succeeds in obtaining felicity.[318] I grieve for them that adhere to worldly happiness as dependent on wealth. All that, however, vanishes like a dream. They that can abandon vast wealth achieve a very difficult feat. As regards ourselves we are unable to abandon that wealth which is even no longer existent.[319] I am divested of prosperity and have fallen into a miserable and joyless plight. Instruct me, O Brahmana, what happiness I may yet strive for.' Thus addressed by the intelligent prince of Kosala, the sage Kalakavrikshiya of great splendour made the following answer. "'"The sage said, 'Thou hast, it seems, already understood it. Possessed of knowledge as thou art, thou shouldst act as thou thinkest. Thy belief is right, viz., "All this that I see is unstable, myself as also everything that I have." Know, O prince, that those things which thou regardest as existing are in reality non-existent. The man of wisdom knows this, and accordingly is never pained whatever the distress that may overwhelm him. Whatever has taken place and whatever will take place are all unreal. When thou wilt know this which should be known by all, thou shalt be freed from unrighteousness. Whatever things had been earned and acquired by those that came before, and whatever was earned and acquired by those that succeeded them, have all perished. Reflecting on this, who is there that will yield to grief? Things that were, are no more. Things that are, will again be (no more). Grief has no power to restore them. One should not, therefore, indulge in grief. Where, O king, is thy sire to-day, and where thy grandsire? Thou seest them not today, nor do they see thee now. Reflecting on thy own instability, why dost thou grieve for them? Reflect with the aid of thy intelligence, and thou wilt understand that verily thou shalt cease to be. Myself, thyself, O king, thy friends, and thy foes, shall, without doubt, cease to be. Indeed, everything will cease to be. Those men that are now of twenty or thirty years of age will, without doubt, all die within the next hundred years. If a man cannot have the heart to give up his vast possessions, he should then endeavour to think his possessions are not his own and by that means seek to do good to himself.[320] Acquisitions that are future should be regarded by one as not one's own. Acquisitions that have disappeared, should also be regarded by one as not one's own. Destiny should be regarded as all powerful. They that think in this strain are said to be possessed of wisdom. Such a habit of looking at things is an attribute of the good. Many persons who are equal or superior to thee in intelligence and exertion, though deprived of wealth, are not only alive but are never ruling kingdoms. They are not, like thee. They do not indulge in grief like thee. Therefore, cease thou to grieve in this way. Art thou not superior to those men, or at least equal to them in intelligence and exertion?' The king said, 'I regard the kingdom which I had with all its appendages to have been won by me without any exertion. All-powerful Time, however, O regenerate one, has swept it away. The consequence, however, that I see, of my kingdom having been swept away by Time as by a stream, is that I am obliged to support upon whatever I obtain (by charity).' "'"The sage said, 'Moved by the knowledge of what is true (in life) one should never grieve for either the past or the future. Be thou of such a frame of mind, O prince of Kosala, in respect of every affair that may engage thy attention. Desiring to obtain only that which is obtainable and not that which is unobtainable, do thou enjoy thy present possessions and never grieve for that which is absent. Be thou delighted, O prince of Kosala, with whatever thou succeedest in winning with ease. Even if divested of prosperity, do not grieve for it but seek to preserve a pure disposition. Only an unfortunate man who is of a foolish understanding, when deprived of former prosperity, censures the supreme Ordainer, without being contented with his present possessions. Such a person regards others, however undeserving, as men blessed with prosperity. For this reason, they that are possessed of malice and vanity and filled with a sense of their own importance, suffer more misery still. Thou however, O king, art not stained by such vices. Endure the prosperity of others although thou art thyself divested of prosperity. They that are possessed of dexterity succeed in enjoying that prosperity which is vested in others.[321] Prosperity leaves the person that hates others. Men possessed of righteous behaviour and wisdom and conversant with the duties of Yoga renounce prosperity and sons and grandsons of their own accord. Others, regarding earthly wealth to be exceedingly unstable and unattainable, dependent as it is upon ceaseless action and effort, are also seen to renounce it.[322] Thou seemest to be possessed of wisdom. Why dost thou then grieve so piteously, desiring things that should not be desired, that are unstable, and that are dependent on others? Thou desirest to enquire after that particular frame of mind (which would enable thee to enjoy felicity notwithstanding the loss of thy possessions). The advice I give thee is to renounce all those objects of desire. Objects that should be avoided appear in the guise of those that should be striven for, while those that should be striven for appear in the guise of objects that should be avoided. Some lose their wealth in the pursuit of wealth. Others regard wealth as the root of infinite happiness, and therefore pursue it eagerly. Some again, delighted with wealth, think that there is nothing superior to it. In his eager desire for the acquisition of wealth, such a person loses all other objects of life. If, O prince of Kosala, a person loses that wealth which had been earned with difficulty and which had been proportionate to his desires, he then, overcome by the inactivity of despair, gives up all desire of wealth. Some persons of righteous souls and high birth betake themselves to the acquisition of virtue. These renounce every kind of worldly happiness from desire of winning felicity in the other world. Some persons lay down life itself, moved by the desire of acquiring wealth. These do not think that life has any use if dissociated from wealth. Behold their pitiable condition. Behold their foolishness. When life is so short and uncertain, these men, moved by ignorance, set their eyes on wealth. Who is there that would set his heart upon hoarding when destruction is its end, upon life when death is its end, and upon union when separation is its end? Sometimes man renounces wealth, and sometimes wealth renounces man. What man possessed of knowledge is there that would feel grieved at the loss of wealth? There are many other persons in the world that lose wealth and friends. Behold, O king, with thy intelligence, and thou wilt understand that the calamities which overtake men are all due to the conduct of men themselves. Do thou, therefore, (as a remedy), restrain thy senses and mind and speech. For, if those become weak and productive of evil there is no man who can keep himself free from temptation of external objects by which he is always surrounded. As no one can form an adequate idea of the past nor can foresee the future, there being many intervals of time and place, a person like thee who is possessed of such wisdom and such prowess, never indulges in grief for union and separation, for good or evil. A person of such mildness of disposition, well-restrained soul, and settled conclusions, and observant of Brahmacharya vows, never indulges in grief and never becomes restless from desire of acquiring or fear of losing anything of small value. It is not fit that such a man should adopt a deceitful life of mendicancy, a life that is sinful and wicked and cruel and worthy of only a wretch among men. Do thou repair to the great forest and lead a life of happiness there, all alone and subsisting upon fruit and roots, restraining speech and soul, and filled with compassion for all creatures. He that cheerfully leads such a life in the forest, with large-tusked elephants for companions, with no human being by his side, and contented with the produce of the wilderness, is said to act after the manner of the wise. A large lake when it becomes turbid, resumes its tranquillity of itself. Similarly, a man of wisdom, when disturbed in such matters, becomes tranquil of himself. I see that a person that has fallen into such a plight as thine may live happily even thus. When thy prosperity is almost impossible to recover, and when thou art without ministers and counsellors, such a course is open to thee. Dost thou hope to reap any benefit by depending upon destiny?'"'" SECTION CV "'"The sage said, 'If, on the other hand, O Kshatriya, thou thinkest that thou hast any prowess still, I shall discourse to thee about that line of policy which thou mayst adopt for recovering thy kingdom. If thou canst follow that line of policy and seek to exert thyself, thou canst still recover thy prosperity. Listen attentively to all that I say unto thee in detail. If thou canst act according to those counsels, thou mayst yet obtain vast wealth, indeed, thy kingdom and kingly power and great prosperity. If thou likest it, O king, tell me, for then I shall speak to thee of that policy.' "'"The king said, 'Tell me, O holy one, what thou wishest to say. I am willing to hear and act according to thy counsels. Let this my meeting with thee today be fruitful of consequences (to myself).' "'"The sage said, 'Renouncing pride and desire and ire and joy and fear, wait upon thy very foes, humbling thyself and joining thy hands. Do thou serve Janaka the ruler of Mithila, always performing good and pure deeds. Firmly devoted to truth, the king of Videha will certainly give thee great wealth. Thou shalt then become the right arm of that king and obtain the trust of all persons. As a consequence of this, thou shalt then succeed in obtaining many allies possessed of courage and perseverance, pure in behaviour, and free from the seven principal faults. A person of restrained soul and having his senses under control, by adhering to his duties, succeeds in raising himself and gladdening others. Honoured by Janaka possessed of intelligence and prosperity, thou shalt certainly become the right arm of that ruler and enjoy the confidence of all. Having then mustered a large force and held consultations with good ministers, do thou cause disunion among thy foes and, setting them against one another, break them all like a person breaking a vilwa with a vilwa. Or, making peace with the foes of thy foe, destroy the latter's power.[323] Thou shalt then cause thy foe to be attached to such good things as are not easily attainable, to beautiful women and cloths, beds and seats and vehicles, all of very costly kinds, and houses, and birds and animals of diverse species, and juices and perfumes and fruits, so that thy foe may be ruined of himself.[324] If one's foe be thus managed, or if indifference is to be shown towards him, one that is desirous of acting according to good policy, should never suffer that foe to know it at all. Following the behaviour that is approved by the wise, do thou enjoy every kind of pleasure in the dominions of thy foe, and imitating the conduct of the dog, the deer, and the crow, behave, with apparent friendship, towards thy enemies. Cause them to undertake achievements that are mighty and difficult to accomplish. See also that they engage in hostilities with powerful enemies. Drawing their attention to pleasant gardens and costly beds and seats, do thou, by offering such objects of enjoyment, drain thy enemy's treasury. Advising thy enemy to perform sacrifices and make gifts, do thou gratify the Brahmanas. The latter, (having received those presents through thy hands), will do good to thee in return (by performing penances and Vedic rites), and devour thy enemy like wolves. Without doubt, a person of righteous deeds obtains a high end. By such deeds men succeed in earning regions of the most felicity in heaven. If the treasury of thy foes be exhausted (by either righteous or unrighteous deeds), every one of them, O prince of Kosala, may be reduced to subjection. The treasury is the root of felicity in heaven and victory on earth. It is in consequence of their treasuries that the foes enjoy such happiness. The treasury, therefore, should by every means be drained. Do not applaud Exertion in the presence of thy foe but speak highly of Destiny. Without doubt, the man who relies too much on acts appertaining to the worship of the gods soon meets with destruction. Cause thy enemy to perform the great sacrifice called Viswajit and divest him by that means of all his possessions. Through this thy object will be fulfilled. Thou mayst then inform thy enemy of the fact that the best men in his kingdom are being oppressed (with exactions for refilling the exhausted treasury), and indicate some eminent ascetic conversant with the duties of Yoga (who will wean thy foe from all earthly possessions). The enemy will then desire to adopt renunciation and retire into the woods, solicitous of salvation. Thou shall then, with the aid of drugs prepared by boiling highly efficacious herbs and plants, and of artificial salts, destroy the elephants and steeds and men (of thy enemy's dominions). These and many other well-devised schemes are available, all connected with fraud. An intelligent person can thus destroy the population of a hostile kingdom with poison."'" SECTION CVI "'"The king said, 'I do not desire, O Brahmana, to support life by deceit or fraud. I do not desire wealth, however great, which is to be earned by unrighteous means. At the very outset of our present discourse I excepted these means. By the adoption of only such means as would not lead to censure, of such means as would benefit me in every respect, by practising only such acts as are not harmful in their consequences, I desire to live in this world. I am incapable of adopting these ways that thou pointest out to me. Indeed, these instructions do not become thee.' "'"The sage said, 'These words, O Kshatriya, that thou speakest indicate thee to be possessed of righteous feelings. Indeed, thou art righteous in disposition and understanding, O thou of great experience. I shall strive for the good of you both, viz., for thyself and him.[325] I shall cause a union, eternal and incapable of breach, to be brought about between thee and that king. Who is there that would not like to have a minister like thee that art born of noble race, that abstainest from all acts of unrighteousness and cruelty, that art possessed of great learning, and that art well versed in the art of government and of conciliating all persons? I say this because, O Kshatriya, though divested of kingdom and plunged into great misery, thou still desirest to live adopting a behaviour that is righteous. The ruler of the Videhas, firmly adhering to truth, will come to my abode soon. Without doubt, he will do what I will urge to do.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The sage, after this, inviting the ruler of the Videhas, said these words unto him: 'This personage is of royal birth. I know his very heart. His soul is as pure as the surface of mirror or the disc of the autumnal moon. He has been examined by me in every way. I do not see any fault in him. Let there be friendship between him and thee. Do thou repose confidence on him as on myself. A king who is without a (competent) minister cannot govern his kingdom even for three days. The minister should be courageous as also possessed of great intelligence. By these two qualities one may conquer both the worlds. Behold, O king, these two qualities are necessary for ruling a kingdom. Righteous kings have no such refuge as a minister possessed of such attributes. The high-souled person is of royal descent. He walketh along the path of the righteous. This one who always keeps righteousness in view has been a valuable acquisition. If treated by thee with honour, he will reduce all thy foes to subjection. If he engages in battle with thee, he will do what as a Kshatriya he should do. Indeed, if after the manner of his sires and grandsires he fights for conquering thee, it will be thy duty to fight him, observant as thou art of the Kshatriya duty of conquering antagonists. Without engaging in battle, however, do thou, at my command, employ him under thee from desire of benefiting thyself. Cast thy eyes on righteousness, giving up covetousness that is improper. It behoveth thee not to abandon the duties of thy order from lust or desire of battle. Victory, O sire, is not certain. Defeat also is not certain. Remembering this, peace should be made with an enemy by giving him food and other articles of enjoyment. One may see victory and defeat in his own case. They that seek to exterminate a foe are sometimes exterminated themselves in course of their efforts.' Thus addressed, king Janaka, properly saluting and honouring that bull among Brahmanas who deserved every honour, replied unto him, saying, 'Thou art of great learning and great wisdom. That which thou hast said from desire of benefiting us, is certainly advantageous for both of us. Such a course of conduct is highly beneficial (to us). I have no hesitation in saying this.' The ruler of Videha then, addressing the prince of Kosala, said these words: 'In observance of Kshatriya duties as also with aid of Policy, I have conquered the world. I have, however, O best of kings, been conquered by thee with thy good qualities. Without cherishing any sense of humiliation (if thou remainest by my side), live thou with me as a victor.[326] I honour thy intelligence, and I honour thy prowess. I do not disregard thee, saying that I have conquered thee. On the other hand, live thou with me as a victor. Honoured duly by me, O king, thou wilt go to my abode.' Both the kings then worshipped that Brahmana, and trusting each other, proceeded to the capital of Mithila. The ruler of the Videhas, causing the prince of Kosala to enter his abode, honoured him, who deserved every honour, with offerings of water to wash his feet, honey and curds and the usual articles. King Janaka also bestowed upon his guest his own daughter and diverse kinds of gems and jewels. This (the establishment of peace) is the high duty of kings; victory and defeat are both uncertain."'" SECTION CVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O scorcher of foes, described the course of duties, the general conduct, the means of livelihood, with their results, of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras. Thou hast discoursed also on the duties of kings, the subject of their treasuries, the means of filling them, and the topic of conquest and victory. Thou hast spoken also of the characteristics of ministers, the measures that lead to the advancement of the subjects, the characteristics of the sixfold limbs of a kingdom, the qualities of armies, the means of distinguishing the wicked, and the marks of those that are good, the attributes of those that are equal, those that are inferior, and those that are superior, the behaviour which a king desirous of advancement should adopt towards the masses, and the manner in which the weak should be protected and cherished. Thou hast discoursed on all these subjects, O Bharata, laying down instructions that are plain according to what has been inculcated in sacred treatises. Thou hast spoken also of the behaviour that should be adopted by kings desirous of conquering their foes. I desire now, O foremost of intelligent men, to listen to the behaviour that one should observe towards the multitude of courageous men that assemble round a king![327] I desire to hear how these may grow, how they may be attached to the king, O Bharata, how may they succeed in subjugating their foes and in acquiring friends. It seems to me that disunion alone can bring about their destruction. I think it is always difficult to keep counsels secret when many are concerned. I desire to hear all this in detail, O scorcher of foes! Tell me also, O king, the means by which they may be prevented from falling out with the king." "'Bhishma said, "Between the aristocracy on the one side and the kings on the other, avarice and wrath, O monarch, are the causes that produce enmity.[328] One of these parties (viz., the king,) yields to avarice. As a consequence, wrath takes possession of the other (the aristocracy). Each intent upon weakening and wasting the other, they both meet with destruction. By employing spies, contrivances of policy, and physical force, and adopting the arts of conciliation, gifts, and disunion and applying other methods for producing weakness, waste, and fear, the parties assail each other. The aristocracy of a kingdom, having the characteristics of a compact body, become dissociated from the king if the latter seeks to take too much from them. Dissociated from the king, all of them become dissatisfied, and acting from fear, side with the enemies of their ruler. If again the aristocracy of a kingdom be disunited amongst themselves, they meet with destruction. Disunited, they fall an easy prey to foes. The nobles, therefore, should always act in concert. If they be united together, they may earn acquisitions of value by means of their strength and prowess. Indeed, when they are thus united, many outsiders seek their alliance. Men of knowledge applaud those nobles that art united with one another in bonds of love. If united in purpose, all of them can be happy. They can (by their example) establish righteous courses of conduct. By behaving properly, they advance in prosperity. By restraining their sons and brothers and teaching them their duties, and by behaving kindly towards all persons whose pride has been quelled by knowledge,[329] the aristocracy advance in prosperity. By always attending to the duties of setting spies and devising means of policy, as also to the matter of filling their treasuries, the aristocracy, O thou of mighty arms, advance in prosperity. By showing proper reverence for them that are possessed of wisdom and courage and perseverance and that display steady prowess in all kinds of work, the aristocracy advance in prosperity. Possessed of wealth and resources, of knowledge of the scriptures and all arts and sciences, the aristocracy rescue the ignorant masses from every kind of distress and danger. Wrath (on the of part the king), rupture,[330] terror, chastisement, persecution, oppression, and executions, O chief of the Bharatas, speedily cause the aristocracy to fall away from the king and side with the king's enemies. They, therefore, that are the leaders of the aristocracy should be honoured by the king. The affairs of the kingdom, O king, depend to a great extent upon them. Consultations should be held with only those that are the leaders of the aristocracy, and secret agents should be placed, O crusher of foes, with them only. The king should not, O Bharata, consult with every member of the aristocracy. The king, acting in concert with the leaders, should do what is for the good of the whole order. When, however, the aristocracy becomes separated and disunited and destitute of leaders, other courses of action should be followed. If the members of the aristocracy quarrel with one another and act, each according to his own resources, without combination, their prosperity dwindles away and diverse kinds of evil occur. Those amongst them that are possessed of learning and wisdom should tread down a dispute as soon as it happens. Indeed, if the seniors of a race look on with indifference, quarrels break out amongst the members. Such quarrels bring about the destruction of a race and produce disunion among the (entire order of the) nobles. Protect thyself, O king, from all fears that arise from within. Fears, however, that arise from outside are of little consequence. The first kind of fear, O king, may cut thy roots in a single day. Persons that are equal to one another in family and blood, influenced by wrath or folly or covetousness arising from their very natures, cease to speak with one another. This is an indication of defeat. It is not by courage, nor by intelligence, nor by beauty, nor by wealth, that enemies succeed in destroying the aristocracy. It is only by disunion and gifts that it can be reduced to subjugation. For this reason, combination has been said to be the great refuge of the aristocracy."'"[331] SECTION CVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "The path of duty is long. It has also, O Bharata, many branches. What, however, according to thee, are those duties that most deserve to be practised? What acts, according to thee, are the most important among all duties, by the practice of which I may earn the highest merit both here and hereafter?" "'Bhishma said, "The worship of mother, father, and preceptor is most important according to me. The man who attends to that duty here, succeeds in acquiring great fame and many regions of felicity. Worshipped with respect by thee, whatever they will command thee, be it consistent with righteousness or inconsistent with it, should be done unhesitatingly, O Yudhishthira! One should never do what they forbid. Without doubt, that which they command should always be done.[332] They are the three worlds. They are the three modes of life. They are the three Vedas. They are the three sacred fires. The father is said to be the Garhapatya fire, the mother, the Dakshina fire, and the preceptor is that fire upon which libations are poured. These three fires are, of course, the most eminent. If thou attendest with heedfulness to these three fires, thou wilt succeed in conquering the three worlds. By serving the father with regularity, one may cross this world. By serving the mother in the same way, one may attain to regions of felicity in the next. By serving the preceptor with regularity one may obtain the region of Brahma. Behave properly towards these three, O Bharata, thou shalt then obtain great fame in the three worlds, and blessed be thou, great will be thy merit and reward. Never transgress them in any act. Never eat before they eat, nor eat anything that is better than what thy eat. Never impute any fault to them. One should always serve them with humility. That is an act of high merit. By acting in that way, O best of kings, thou mayst obtain fame, merit, honour, and regions of felicity hereafter. He who honours these three is honoured in all the worlds. He, on the other hand, who disregards these three, fails to obtain any merit from any of his acts. Such a man, O scorcher of foes, acquires merit neither in this world nor in the next. He who always disregards these three seniors never obtains fame either here or hereafter. Such a man never earns any good in the next world. All that I have given away in honour of those three has become a hundredfold or a thousandfold of its actual measure. It is in consequence of that merit that even now, O Yudhishthira, the three worlds are clearly before my eyes. One Acharya is superior to ten Brahmanas learned in the Vedas. One Upadhyaya is again superior to ten Acharyas. The father, again, is superior to ten Upadhyayas. The mother again, is superior to ten fathers, or perhaps, the whole world, in importance. There is no one that deserves such reverence as the mother. In my opinion, however, the preceptor is worthy of greater reverence than the father or even the mother. The father and the mother are authors of one's being. The father and the mother, O Bharata, only create the body. The life, on the other hand, that one obtains from one's preceptor, is heavenly. That life is subject to no decay and is immortal. The father and the mother, however much they may offend, should never be slain. By not punishing a father and a mother, (even if they deserve punishment), one does not incur sin. Indeed, such reverend persons, by enjoying impunity, do not stain the king. The gods and the Rishis do not withhold their favours from such persons as strive to cherish even their sinful fathers with reverence. He who favours a person by imparting to him true instruction, by communicating the Vedas, and giving knowledge which is immortal, should be regarded as both a father and a mother. The disciple, in grateful recognition of what the instructor has done, should never do anything that would injure the latter. They that do not reverence their preceptors after receiving instruction from them by obeying them dutifully in thought and deed, incur the sin of killing a foetus. There is no sinner in this world like them.[333] Preceptors always show great affection for their disciples. The latter should, therefore, show their preceptors commensurate reverence. He, therefore, that wishes to earn that high merit which has existed from ancient days, should worship and adore his preceptors and cheerfully share with them every object of enjoyment. With him who pleases his father is pleased Prajapati himself. He who pleases his mother gratifies the earth herself. He who pleases his preceptor gratifies Brahma by his act. For this reason, the preceptor is worthy of greater reverence than either the father or the mother. If preceptors are worshipped, the very Rishis, and the gods, together with the Pitris, are all pleased. Therefore, the preceptor is worthy of the highest reverence. The preceptor should never be disregarded in any manner by the disciple. Neither the mother nor the father deserves such regard as the preceptor. The father, the mother, and the preceptor, should never be insulted. No act of theirs should be found fault with. The gods and the great Rishis are pleased with him that behaves with reverence towards his preceptors. They that injure in thought and deed their preceptors, or fathers, or mothers, incur the sin of killing a foetus. There is no sinner in the world equal to them. That son of the sire's loins and the mother's womb, who, being brought up by them and when he comes to age, does not support them in his turn, incurs the sin of killing a foetus. There is no sinner in the world like unto him. We have never heard that these four, viz., he who injures a friend, he who is ungrateful, he who slays a woman, and he who slays a preceptor, ever succeed in cleansing themselves. I have now told thee generally all that a person should do in this world. Besides those duties that I have indicated, there is nothing productive of greater felicity. Thinking of all duties, I have told thee their essence."'" SECTION CIX "'Yudhishthira said, "How, O Bharata, should a person act who desires to adhere to virtue? O bull of Bharata's race, possessed as thou art of learning, tell me this, questioned by me. Truth and falsehood exist, covering all the worlds. Which of these two, O king, should a person adopt that is firm in virtue? What again is truth? What is falsehood? What, again, is eternal virtue? On what occasions should a person tell the truth, and on what occasions should he tell an untruth?" "'Bhishma said, "To tell the truth is consistent with righteousness. There is nothing higher than truth. I shall now, O Bharata, say unto thee that which is not generally known to men. There where falsehood would assume the aspect of truth, truth should not be said. There, again, where truth would assume the aspect of falsehood, even falsehood should be said. That ignorant person incurs sin who says truth which is dissociated from righteousness. That person is said to be conversant with duties who can distinguish truth from falsehood.[334] Even a person that is disrespectable, that is of uncleansed soul, and that is very cruel, may succeed in earning great merit as the hunter Valaka by slaying the blind beast (that threatened to destroy all creatures).[335] How extraordinary it is that a person of foolish understanding, though desirous of acquiring merit (by austere penances) still committed a sinful act![336] An owl again, on the banks of the Ganges, (by doing an unrighteous deed) obtained great merit.[337] The question thou hast asked me is a difficult one, since it is difficult to say what righteousness is. It is not easy to indicate it. No one in discoursing upon righteousness, can indicate it accurately. Righteousness was declared (by Brahman) for the advancement and growth of all creatures. Therefore, that which leads to advancement and growth is righteousness. Righteousness was declared for restraining creatures from injuring one another. Therefore, that is Righteousness which prevents injury to creatures. Righteousness (Dharma) is so called because it upholds all creatures. In fact, all creatures are upheld by righteousness. Therefore, that is righteousness which is capable of upholding all creatures. Some say that righteousness consists in what has been inculcated in the Srutis. Others do not agree to this. I would not censure them that say so. Everything, again, has not been laid down in the Srutis.[338] Sometimes men (robbers), desirous of obtaining the wealth of some one, make enquiries (for facilitating the act of plunder). One should never answer such enquiries. That is a settled duty. If by maintaining silence, one succeeds in escaping, one should remain silent. If, on the other hand, one's silence at a time when one must speak rouses suspicion, it would be better on such an occasion to say what is untrue than what is true. This is a settled conclusion. If one can escape from sinful men by even a (false) oath, one may take it without incurring sin. One should not, even if one be able, give away his wealth to sinful men. Wealth given to sinful men afflicts even the giver. If a creditor desires to make his debtor pay off the loan by rendering bodily service, the witnesses would all be liars, if, summoned by the creditor for establishing the truth of the contract, they did not say what should be said. When life is at risk, or on occasion of marriage, one may say an untruth. One that seeks for virtue, does not commit a sin by saying an untruth, if that untruth be said to save the wealth and prosperity of others or for the religious purposes. Having promised to pay, one becomes bound to fulfil his promise. Upon failure, let the self-appropriator be forcibly enslaved. If a person without fulfilling a righteous engagement acts with impropriety, he should certainly be afflicted with the rod of chastisement for having adopted such behaviour.[339] A deceitful person, falling away from all duties and abandoning those of his own order, always wishes to betake himself to the practices of Asuras for supporting life. Such a sinful wretch living by deceit should be slain by every means. Such sinful men think that there is nothing in this world higher than wealth. Such men should never be tolerated. No one should eat with them. They should be regarded to have fallen down in consequence of their sins. Indeed, fallen away from the condition of humanity and shut out from the grace of the gods, they are even like evil genii. Without sacrifices and without penances as they are, forbear from their companionship. If their wealth be lost, they commit even suicide which is exceedingly pitiable. Among those sinful men there is no one to whom thou canst say, 'This is thy duty. Let thy heart turn to it.' Their settled convictions are that there is nothing in this world that is equal to wealth. The person that would slay such a creature would incur no sin. He who kills him kills one that has been already killed by his own acts. If slain, it is the dead that is slain. He who vows to destroy those persons of lost senses should keep his vows.[340] Such sinners are, like the crow and the vulture, dependent on deceit for their living. After the dissolution of their (human) bodies, they take rebirth as crows and vultures. One should, in any matter, behave towards another as that other behaves in that matter. He who practises deceit should be resisted with deceit while one that is honest should be treated with honesty."'" SECTION CX "'Yudhishthira said, "Creatures are seen to be afflicted by diverse means and almost continually. Tell me, O grandsire, in what way can one overcome all those difficulties." "'Bhishma said, "Those members of the regenerate class that duly practise, with restrained souls, the duties that have been laid down in the scriptures for the several modes of life, succeed in overcoming all these difficulties. They that never practise deceit, they whose behaviour is restrained by salutary restrictions, and they that control all worldly desires, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that do not speak when addressed in evil language, they that do not injure others when themselves injured, they that give but do not take, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that always give hospitable shelter to guests, they that do not indulge in malice, they that are constantly engaged in the study of the Vedas, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. Those persons who, being conversant with duties, adopt that behaviour towards parents which they should, they that abstain from sleeping during the day, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that do not commit any kind of sin in thought, word, and deed, they that never injure any creature, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. Those kings that do not, under the influence of passion and covetousness, levy oppressive taxes, and those that protect their own dominions, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that go to their own wedded wives in season without seeking the companionship of other women, they that are honest and attentive to their Agni-hotras, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that are possessed of courage and that, casting away all fear of death, engage in battle, desirous of victory by fair means, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that always speak truth in this world even when life is at stake, and that are exemplars for all creatures to imitate succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They whose acts never deceive, whose words are always agreeable, and whose wealth is always well spent, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. Those Brahmanas that never study the Vedas at hours not intended for study, and that practise penances with devotion, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. Those Brahmanas that betake themselves to a life of celibacy and Brahmacharya, that perform penances, and that are cleansed by learning, Vedic knowledge, and proper vows, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that have checked all the qualities that appertain to Passion and Darkness, that are possessed of high souls, and that practise the qualities that are called Good, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They of whom no creature stands in fear and those that do not fear any creature themselves, they that look upon all creatures as their own selves, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. Those bulls among men that are good, that are never inspired with grief at the sight of other people's prosperity, and that abstain from all kinds of ignoble behaviour, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that bow to all the gods, that listen to the doctrines of all creeds, that have faith, and that are endued with tranquil souls, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that do not desire honour for themselves, that give honours unto others, that bow down unto those that deserve their worship, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that perform Sraddhas on the proper lunar days, with pure minds, from desire of offspring, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that restrain their own wrath and pacify the wrath of others, and that never get angry with any creature, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that abstain, from their birth, from honey and meat and intoxicating drinks, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that eat for only supporting life, that seek the companionship of women for the sake only of offspring and that open their lips for only speaking what is true, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that worship with devotion the god Narayana, that Supreme Lord of all creatures, that origin and destruction of the universe, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. This Krishna here, of eyes red as the lotus, clad in yellow robes, endued with mighty arms,--this Krishna who is our well-wisher, brother, friend, and relative,--is Narayana of unfading glory. He covers all the worlds like a leathern case, at his own pleasure. He is the puissant Lord, of inconceivable soul. He is Govinda, the foremost of all beings. This Krishna who is ever engaged in doing what is agreeable and beneficial to Jishnu, as also to thee, O king, is that foremost of all beings, that irresistible one, that abode of eternal felicity. They that with devotion seek the refuge of this Narayana, called also Hari, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. They that read these verses about the overcoming of difficulties, that recite them to others, and that speak of them unto Brahmanas, succeed in overcoming all difficulties. I have now, O sinless one, told thee all those acts by which men may overcome all difficulties both here and hereafter."'" SECTION CXI "'Yudhishthira said, "Many persons here that are not really of tranquil souls appear in outward form as men of tranquil souls. There are again others that are really of tranquil souls but that appear to be otherwise. How, O sire, shall we succeed in knowing these people?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is recited the old story of the discourse between a tiger and a jackal. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! In ancient times, in a city called Purika, full of affluence, there was a king named Paurika. That worst of beings was exceedingly cruel and took delight in injuring others. On the expiry of the period of his life he obtained an undesirable end. In fact, stained by the evil acts of his human life, he was reborn as a jackal. Remembering his former prosperity, he became filled with grief and abstained from meat even when brought before him by others. And he became compassionate unto all creatures, and truthful in speech, and firm in the observance of austere vows. At the appointed time he took food which consisted of fruit that had dropped from the trees. That jackal dwelt in a vast crematorium and liked to dwell there. And as it was his birth place, he never wished to change it for a finer locality. Unable to endure the purity of his behaviour, the other members of his species, endeavoured to make him alter his resolve by addressing him in the following words fraught with humility: 'Though residing in this terrible crematorium, thou desirest yet to live in such purity of behaviour. Is not this a perversity of understanding on thy part, since thou art by nature an eater of carrion? Be thou our like. All of us will give thee food. Eat that which ought always to be thy food, abandoning such purity of conduct.' Hearing these words of theirs, the jackal replied unto them, with rapt attention, in these sweet words fraught with reason and inculcating harmlessness to all: 'My birth has been low. It is conduct, however, that determines the race.[341] I desire to behave in such a way that my fame may spread. Although my habitation is this crematorium, yet listen to my vows in respect of behaviour. One's own self is the cause of one's acts. The mode of life to which one may betake oneself is not the cause of one's religious acts. If one, while in the observance of a particular mode of life, slays a Brahmana, will not the sin of Brahmanicide attach to him? If, on the other hand, one gives away a cow while one is not in the observance of any particular mode of life, will that pious gift produce no merit? Moved by the desire of getting what is agreeable, ye are engaged in only filling your stomachs. Stupefied by folly ye do not see the three faults that are in the end. I do not like to adopt the life led by you, fraught as it is with evil both here and hereafter, and characterised as it is by such censurable loss of virtue occasioned by discontentment and temptation.' A tiger, celebrated for prowess, happened to overhear this conversation, and accordingly, taking the jackal for a learned person of pure behaviour, offered him such respectful worship as was suited to his own self and then expressed a wish for appointing him his minister. "'"The tiger said, 'O righteous personage, I know what thou art. Do thou attend to the duties of government with myself. Enjoy whatever articles may be desired by thee, abandoning whatever may not suit thy taste.[342] As regards ourselves, we are known to be of a fierce disposition. We inform thee beforehand of this. If thou behavest with mildness, thou wilt be benefited and reap advantages for thyself.'--Honouring these words of that high-souled lord of all animals, the jackal, hanging down his head a little, said these words fraught with humility. "'"The jackal said, 'O king of beasts, these words of thine with reference to myself are such as befit thee. It is also worthy of thee that thou shouldst seek for ministers of pure behaviour and conversant with duties and worldly affairs. Thou canst not maintain thy greatness without a pious minister, O hero, or with a wicked minister that is on the look-out for putting an end to thy very life. Thou shouldst, O highly blessed one, regard those amongst thy ministers that are devoted to thee, that are conversant with policy, that are independent of one another, desirous of crowning thee with victory, unstained by covetousness, free from deceit, possessed of wisdom, ever engaged in thy good, and endued with great mental vigour, even as thou regardest thy preceptors or parents. But, O king of beasts, as I am perfectly contented with my present position, I do not desire to change it for anything else. I do not covet luxurious enjoyments or the happiness that arises from them. My conduct, again, may not agree with that of thy old servants. If they happen to be of wicked conduct, they will produce disunion between thee and me. Dependence upon another, even if that other happens to be possessed of splendour, is not desirable or praiseworthy. I am of cleansed soul. I am highly blessed. I am incapable of showing severity to even sinners. I am of great foresight. I have capacity for great exertion. I do not look at small things. I am possessed of great strength. I am successful in acts. I never act fruitlessly. I am adorned with every object of enjoyment. I am never satisfied with a little. I have never served another. I am, besides, unskilled in serving. I live according to my pleasure in the woods. All who live by the side of kings have to endure great pain in consequence of evil speeches against themselves. Those, however, that reside in the woods pass their days, fearlessly and without anxiety, in the observance of vows. The fear that arises in the heart of a person who is summoned by the king is unknown to persons passing their days contentedly in the woods, supporting life upon fruits and roots. Simple food and drink obtained without effort, and luxurious food procured with fear, widely differ from each other. Reflecting upon these two, I am of opinion that there is happiness where there is no anxiety. A few only amongst those that serve kings are justly punished for their offences. A large number of them, however, suffer death under false accusations. If, notwithstanding all this, thou appointest me, O king of beasts, as thy minister, I wish to make a compact with thee in respect of the behaviour thou shouldst always adopt towards me. Those words that I shall speak for thy good should be listened to and regarded by thee. The provision which thou wilt make for me shall not be interfered with by thee. I shall never consult with thy other ministers. If I do, desirous of superiority as they are they will then impute diverse kinds of faults to me. Meeting with thee alone and in secret I shall say what is for thy good. In all matters connected with thy kinsmen, thou shalt not ask me what is for thy good or what is otherwise. Having consulted with me thou shalt not punish thy other ministers afterwards, yielding to rage thou shalt not punish my followers and dependants.' Thus addressed by the jackal, the king of beasts answered him, saying, 'Let it be so,' and showed him every honour. The jackal then accepted the ministership of the tiger. Beholding the jackal treated with respect and honoured in all his acts, the old servants of the king, conspiring together, began ceaselessly to display their hatred towards him. Those wicked persons at first strove to gratify and win him over with friendly behaviour and make him tolerate the diverse abuses that existed in the waste. Despoilers of other people's property, they had long lived in the enjoyment of their perquisites. Now, however, being ruled by the jackal, they were unable to appropriate anything belonging to others. Desirous of advancement and prosperity, they began to tempt him with sweet speeches. Indeed, large bribes even were offered to allure his heart. Possessed of great wisdom, the jackal showed no signs of yielding to those temptations. Then some amongst them, making a compact amongst themselves for effecting his destruction, took away the well-dressed meat that was intended for and much desired by the king of beasts, and placed it secretly in the house of the jackal. The jackal knew who had stolen the meat and who had conspired to do it. But though he knew everything, he tolerated it for a particular object. He had made a compact with the king at the time of his accepting the ministership, saying, 'Thou desirest my friendship, but thou shalt not, O monarch, mistrust me without cause.'" "'Bhishma continued, "When the king of beasts, feeling hungry, came to eat, he saw not the meat that was to have been kept ready for his dinner. The king then ordered, 'Let the thief be found out.' His deceitful ministers represented unto him that the meat kept for him had been stolen away by his learned minister, the jackal, that was so proud of his own wisdom. Hearing of this injudicious act on the part of the jackal, the tiger became filled with rage. Indeed, the king, giving way to his wrath, ordered his minister to be slain. Beholding the opportunity, the former ministers addressed the king, saying, 'The jackal is ever ready to take away from all of us the means of sustenance.' Having represented this they once more spoke of the jackal's act of robbing the king of his food. And they said, 'Such then is his act! What is there that he would not venture to do? He is not as thou hadst heard. He is righteous in speech but his real disposition is sinful. A wretch in reality, he has disguised himself by putting on a garb of virtue. His behaviour is really sinful. For serving his own ends he had practised austerities in the matter of diet and of vows. If thou disbelievest this, we will give thee ocular proof.' Having said this, they immediately caused that meat to be discovered by entering the jackal's abode. Ascertaining that the meat was brought back from the jackal's house and hearing all those representations of his old servants, the king ordered, saying, 'Let the jackal be slain.' Hearing these words of the tiger, his mother came to that spot for awakening son's good sense with beneficial counsels. The venerable dame said, 'O son, thou shouldst not accept this accusation fraught with deceit. Wicked individuals impute faults to even an honest person, moved by envy and rivalry. Enemies desirous of a quarrel cannot endure the elevation of an enemy brought about by his high feats. Faults are ascribed to even a person of pure soul engaged in penances. With respect to even an ascetic living in the woods and employed in his own (harmless) acts, are raised three parties, viz., friends, neutrals, and foes. They that are rapacious hate them that are pure. The idle hate the active. The unlearned hate the learned. The poor hate the rich. The unrighteous hate the righteous. The ugly hate the beautiful. Many amongst the learned, the unlearned, the rapacious, and the deceitful, would falsely accuse an innocent person even if the latter happens to be possessed of the virtues and intelligence of Vrihaspati himself. If meat had really been stolen from thy house in thy absence, remember, the jackal refuses to take any meat that is even given to him. Let this fact be well considered (in finding out the thief). Wicked persons sometimes put on the semblance of the good, and they that are good sometimes wear the semblance of the wicked. Diverse kinds of aspect are noticeable in creatures. It is, therefore, necessary to examine which is which. The firmament seems to be like the solid base of a vessel. The fire-fly seems to be like the actual spark of fire. In reality, however, the sky has no base and there is no fire in the fire-fly. You see, there is necessity, therefore, for scrutiny in respect of even such things as are addressed to the eye. If a person ascertains everything after scrutiny, he is never called upon to indulge in any kind of regret afterwards. It is not at all difficult, O son, for a master to put his servant to death. Forgiveness, however, in persons possessed of power, is always praiseworthy and productive of renown. Thou hadst made the jackal thy first minister. In consequence of that act, thou hadst earned great fame among all neighbouring chiefs. A good minister cannot be obtained easily. The jackal is thy well-wisher. Let him, therefore, be supported. The king who regards a really innocent person falsely accused by his enemies to be guilty, soon meets the destruction in consequence of the wicked ministers that lead him to that conviction.' After the tiger's mother had concluded her speech, a righteous agent of the jackal, stepping out of that phalanx of his foes, discovered everything about the manner in which that false accusation had been made. The jackal's innocence being made manifest, he was acquitted and honoured by his master. The king of beasts affectionately embraced him again and again. The jackal, however, who was conversant with the science of policy, burning with grief, saluted the king of beasts and solicited his permission for throwing away his life by observing the Praya vow. The tiger, casting upon the virtuous jackal his eyes expanded with affection and honouring him with reverential worship, sought to dissuade him from the accomplishment of his wishes. The jackal, beholding his master agitated with affection, bowed down to him and in a voice choked with tears said these words: 'Honoured by thee first, I have afterwards been insulted by thee. Thy behaviour towards me is calculated to make me an enemy of thine. It is not proper therefore, that I should any longer dwell with thee. Servants that are discontented, that have been driven from their offices, or degraded from the honours that were theirs, that have brought destitution upon themselves, or have been ruined by their enemies (through the wrath of their master), that have been weakened, that are rapacious, or enraged, or alarmed, or deceived (in respect of their employers), that have suffered confiscation, that are proud and desirous of achieving great feats but deprived of the means of earning wealth, and that burn with grief or rage in consequence of any injury done to them, always wait for calamities to overtake their masters. Deceived, they leave their masters and become effective instruments in the hands of foes.[343] I have been insulted by thee and pulled down from my place. How wilt thou trust me again? How shall I (on my part) continue to dwell with thee? Thinking me to be competent thou tookest me, and having examined me thou hadst placed me in office. Violating the compact then made (between us) thou hast insulted me. If one speaks of a certain person before others as possessed of righteous behaviour, one should not, if desirous of maintaining one's consistency, afterwards describe the same person as wicked. I who have thus been disregarded by thee cannot any longer enjoy thy confidence. On my part, when I shall see thee withdraw thy confidence from me, I shalt be filled with alarm and anxiety. Thyself suspicious and myself in alarm, our enemies will be on the look-out for opportunities for injuring us. Thy subjects will, as a consequence, become anxious and discontented. Such a state of things has many faults. The wise do not regard that situation happy in which there is honour first and dishonour afterwards. It is difficult to reunite the two that have been separated, as, indeed, it is difficult to separate the two that are united. If persons reunited after separation approach one another again, their behaviour cannot be affectionate. No servant is to be seen who is moved (in what he does) by only the desire of benefiting his master. Service proceeds from the motive of doing good to the master as also one's own self. All acts are undertaken from selfish motives. Unselfish acts or motives are very rare. Those kings whose hearts are restless and unquiet cannot acquire a true knowledge of men. Only one in a hundred can be found who is either able or fearless. The prosperity of men, as also their fall, comes of itself. Prosperity and adversity, and greatness, all proceed from weakness of understanding.'"[344] "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these conciliatory words fraught with virtue, pleasure, and profit, and having gratified the king, the jackal retired to the forest. Without listening to the entreaties of the king of beasts, the intelligent jackal cast off his body by sitting in praya and proceeded to heaven (as the reward of his good deeds on earth)."'" SECTION CXII "'Yudhishthira said, "What acts should be done by a king, and what are those acts by doing which a king may become happy? Tell me this in detail, O thou that art the foremost of all persons acquainted with duties." "'Bhishma said, "I shall tell thee what thou wishest to know. Listen to the settled truth about what should be done in this world by a king and what those acts are by doing which a king may become happy. A king should not behave after the manner disclosed in the high history of a camel of which we have heard. Listen to that history then, O Yudhishthira! There was, in the Krita age, a huge camel who had recollection of all the acts of his former life. Observing the most rigid vows, that camel practised very severe austerities in the forest. Towards the conclusion of his penances, the puissant Brahman became gratified with him. The Grandsire, therefore, desired to grant him boons. "'"The camel said, 'Let my neck, O holy one, become long through thy grace, so that, O puissant lord, I may be able to seize any food that may lie even at the end of even a hundred Yojanas.' The high-souled giver of boons said, 'Let it be so.' The camel then, having obtained the boon, returned to his own forest. The foolish animal, from the day of obtaining the boon, became idle. Indeed, the wretch, stupefied by fate, did not from that day go out for grazing. One day, while extending his long neck of a hundred Yojanas, the animal was engaged in picking his food without any labour, a great storm arose. The camel, placing his head and a portion of the neck within the cave of a mountain, resolved to wait till the storm would be over. Meanwhile it began to pour in torrents, deluging the whole earth. A jackal, with his wife, drenched by the rain and shivering with cold, dragged himself with difficulty towards that very cave and entered it quickly for shelter. Living as he did upon meat, and exceedingly hungry and tired as he was, O bull of Bharata's race, the jackal, seeing the camel's neck, began to eat as much of it as he could. The camel, when he perceived that his neck was being eaten, strove in sorrow to shorten it. But as he moved it up and down, the jackal and his wife, without losing their hold of it, continued to eat it away. Within a short time the camel was deprived of life. The jackal then, having (thus) slain and eaten the camel, came out of the cave after the storm and shower had ceased. Thus did that foolish camel meet with his death. Behold, what a great evil followed in the train of idleness. As regards thyself, avoiding idleness and restraining thy senses, do everything in the world with proper means. Manu himself has said that victory depends upon intelligence. All acts that are accomplished with the aid of intelligence are regarded as the foremost, those achieved with the aid of arms are middling, those achieved with the aid of feet are inferior, while those done by carrying loads are the lowest. If the king is clever in the transaction of business and restrains his senses, his kingdom endures. Manu himself has said that it is with the aid of the intelligence that an ambitious person succeeds in achieving victories. In this world, O Yudhishthira, they who listen to wise counsels that are not generally known, that are, O sinless one, possessed of allies, and that act after proper scrutiny, succeed in achieving all their objects. A person possessed of such aids succeeds in ruling the entire earth. O thou that art possessed of prowess like that of Indra himself, this has been said by wise men of ancient times conversant with the ordinances laid down in the scriptures. I, also, with sight directed to the scriptures, have said the same to thee. Exercising thy intelligence, do thou act in this world, O king!"'" SECTION CXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O bull of Bharata's race, how a king, without the usual aids, having obtained a kingdom that is so precious a possession, behave himself towards a powerful foe." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between the Ocean and the Rivers. In days of old, eternal Ocean, that lord of Rivers, that refuge of the foes of the celestials, asked all the Rivers for resolving this doubt that had arisen in his mind. "'"The Ocean said, 'Ye Rivers, I see that all of you, with your full currents, bring away trees of large trunks, tearing them off with their roots and branches. Ye do not, however, ever bring to me a cane. The canes that grow on your banks are of mean stems and destitute of strength. Do you refuse to wash them down through contempt, or are they of any use to you? I desire, therefore, to hear what the motive is that inspires all of you. Indeed, why is it that canes are not washed down by any of you, uprooted from the banks where they grow?' Thus addressed, the River Ganga, replied unto Ocean, that lord of all Rivers, in these words of grave import, fraught with reason, and, therefore, acceptable to all. "'"Ganga said, 'Trees stand in one and the same place and are unyielding in respect of the spot where they stand. In consequence of this disposition of theirs to resist our currents, they are obliged to leave the place of their growth. Canes, however, act differently. The cane, beholding the advancing current, bends to it. The others do not act in that way. After the current has passed away, the cane resumes its former posture. The cane knows the virtues of Time and opportunity. It is docile and obedient. It is yielding, without being stiff. For these reasons, it stands where it grows, without having to come with us. Those plants, trees, and creepers that bend and rise before the force of wind and water, have never to suffer discomfiture (by being taken up by the roots).'" "'Bhishma continued, "That person who does not yield to the power of a foe that has advanced in might and that is competent to imprison or kill, soon meets with destruction.[345] That man of wisdom who acts after ascertaining fully the strength and weakness, the might and energy, of himself and his foe, has never to suffer discomfiture. An intelligent man, therefore, when he sees his enemy to be more powerful than himself, should adopt the behaviour of the cane. That is an indication of wisdom."'" SECTION CXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "How, O Bharata, should a learned man adorned with modesty behave, O chastiser of foes, when assailed with harsh speeches in the midst of assemblies by an ignorant person swelling with conceit?"[346] "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O lord of earth, how the subject has been treated of (in the scriptures), how a person of good soul should endure in this world the abusive speeches of persons of little intelligence. If a person, when abused by another, do not yield to wrath, he is then sure to take away (the merit of) all the good deeds that have been done by the abuser. The endurer, in such a case, communicates the demerit of all his own bad acts to the person who under the influence of wrath indulges in abuse. An intelligent man should disregard an abusive language who resembles, after all, only a Tittibha uttering dissonant cries.[347] One who yields to hate is said to live in vain. A fool may often be heard to say, 'Such a respectable man was addressed by me in such words amid such an assembly of men,' and to even boast of that wicked act. He would add, 'Abused by me, the man remained silent as if dead with shame.' Even thus does a shameless man boast of an act about which no one should boast. Such a wretch among men should carefully be disregarded. The man of wisdom should endure everything that such a person of little intelligence may say. What can a vulgar fellow do by either his praise or his blame? He is even like a crow that caws uselessly in the woods. If those who accuse others by only their words could establish those accusations by such means, then, perhaps, their words would have been regarded to be of some value. As a fact, however, these words are as effective as those uttered by fools invoking death upon them with whom they quarrel.[348] That man simply proclaims his bastardy who indulges in such conduct and words. Indeed, he is even like a peacock that dances while showing such a part of his body as should be ever concealed from the view.[349] A person of pure conduct should never even speak with that wight of sinful conduct who does not scruple to utter anything or do anything. That man who speaks of one's merits when one's eye is upon him and who speaks ill of one when one's eye is withdrawn from him, is really like a dog. Such a person loses all his regions in heaven and the fruits of any knowledge and virtue that he may have.[350] The man who speaks ill of one when one's eye is not upon him, loses without delay the fruits of all his libations on fire and of the gifts he may make unto even a hundred persons. A man of wisdom, therefore, should unhesitatingly avoid a person of such sinful heart who deserves to be avoided by all honest men, as he would avoid the flesh of the dog. That wicked-souled wretch who proclaims the faults of a high-souled person, really publishes (by that act) his own evil nature even as a snake displays his hood (when interfered with by others). The man of sense who seeks to counteract such a back-biter ever engaged in an occupation congenial to himself, finds himself in the painful condition of a stupid ass sunk in a heap of ashes. A man who is ever engaged in speaking ill of others should be avoided like a furious wolf, or an infuriated elephant roaring in madness, or a fierce dog. Fie on that sinful wretch who has betaken himself to the path of the foolish and has fallen away from all wholesome restraints and modesty, who is always engaged in doing what is injurious to others, and who is regardless of his own prosperity. If an honest man wishes to exchange words with such wretches when they seek to humiliate him, he should be counselled in these words: Do not suffer thyself to be afflicted. A wordy encounter between a high and a low person is always disapproved by persons of tranquil intelligence. A slanderous wretch, when enraged, may strike another with his palms, or throw dust or chaff at another, or frighten another by showing or grinding his teeth. All this is well known. That man who endures the reproaches and slanders of wicked-souled wights uttered in assemblies, or who reads frequently these instructions, never suffers any pain occasioned by speech."'" SECTION CXV "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou that art possessed of great wisdom, I have one great doubt that perplexes me. Thou shouldst, O king, resolve it. Thou art an advancer of our family. Thou hast discoursed to us upon the slanderous speeches uttered by wicked-souled wretches of bad conduct. I desire, however, to question thee further. That which is beneficial to a kingdom, that which is productive of the happiness of the royal line, that which is productive of good and advancement in the future and the present, that which is good in respect of food and drink and as regards also the body, are topics upon which I wish thee to discourse. How should a king who has been placed on the throne and who continues to occupy it, surrounded by friends, ministers, and servants gratify his people. That king who, led away by his affections and predilections, becomes devoted to evil associates, and who pays court to wicked men in consequence of his being enthralled by his senses, finds all servants of good birth and blood disaffected towards him. Such a king never succeeds in obtaining those objects the accomplishment of which depends upon one's having a number of good servants about him. It behoveth thee that art equal to Vrihaspati himself in intelligence to discourse to me upon these duties of kings which are difficult to be ascertained and thereby remove my doubts. Thou, O tiger among men, art ever engaged in accomplishing the good of our race. For this reason thou always discoursest to us on the duties of king-craft. Kshatri (Vidura) also, possessed of great wisdom, always gives us valuable instruction. Hearing instructions from thee that are productive of good to our race and kingdom, I shall be able to pass my days in happiness like a person gratified with having quaffed the deathless Amrita. What classes of servants are to be regarded as inferior and what is possessed of every accomplishment? Aided by what class of servants or by servants of what kind of birth, is it advisable to discharge the duties of ruling? If the king choose to act alone and without servants, he can never succeed in protecting his people. All persons, however, of high birth covet the acquisition of sovereignty." "'Bhishma said, "The king, O Bharata, cannot alone rule his kingdom. Without servants to aid him, he cannot succeed in accomplishing any object. Even if he succeeds in gaining any object, he cannot (if alone), retain it. That king whose servants are all possessed of knowledge and wisdom, who are all devoted to the good of their master, and who are of high birth and tranquil disposition, succeeds in enjoying the happiness connected with sovereignty. That king whose ministers are all well born, incapable of being weaned away from him (by means of bribes and other influences), who always live with him, who are engaged in giving advice to their master, who are possessed of wisdom and goodness, who have a knowledge of the relations of things, who can provide for future events and contingencies, who have a good knowledge of the virtues of time, and who never grieve for what is past, succeeds in enjoying the happiness that attaches to sovereignty. That king whose servants share with him his griefs and joys, who always do what is agreeable to him, who always direct their attention to the accomplishment of their master's objects, and all of whom are faithful, succeeds in enjoying the happiness that attaches to sovereignty. The king whose subjects are always cheerful, and high minded, and who always tread in the path of the righteousness, succeeds in enjoying the happiness attached to sovereignty. He is the best of kings all the sources of whose income are managed and supervised by contented and trustworthy men well acquainted with the means of increasing the finances. That king succeeds in obtaining affluence and great merit whose repositories and barns are supervised by incorruptible, trust-worthy, devoted, and uncovetous servants always bent upon gathering. That king in whose city justice is administered properly with the result of such administration leading to the well known results of fining the plaintiff or the defendant if his case is untrue, and in which criminal laws are administered even after the manner of Sankha and Likhita, succeeds in earning the merit that attaches to sovereignty. That king who attaches his subjects to himself by kindness, who is conversant with the duties of kings, and who attends to the aggregate of six, succeeds in earning the merit that attaches to sovereignty."'" SECTION CXVI "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the following history of olden times. That history is regarded as a high precedent amongst good and wise men. That history has connection with the present topic. I heard it in the hermitage of Rama, the son of Jamadagni, recited by many foremost of Rishis. In a certain large forest uninhabited by human beings, there lived an ascetic upon fruit and roots observing rigid vows, and with his senses under control. Observant also of stringent regulations and self-restraint, of tranquil and pure soul, always attentive to Vedic recitations, and of heart cleansed by fasts, he adopted a life of goodness towards all creatures. Possessed of great intelligence, as he sat on his seat, the goodness of his behaviour having been known to all the creatures that lived in that forest, they used to approach him with affection. Fierce lions and tigers, infuriated elephants of huge size, leopards, rhinoceroses, bears, and other animals of fierce aspect, subsisting upon blood, used to come to the Rishi and address him the usual questions of polite enquiry. Indeed, all of them behaved towards him like disciples and slaves and always did unto him what was agreeable. Coming to him they addressed the usual enquiries, and then went away to their respective quarters. One domestic animal, however, lived there permanently, never leaving the Muni at any time. He was devoted to the sage and exceedingly attached to him. Weak and emaciated with fasts, he subsisted upon fruit and roots and water, and was tranquil and of inoffensive aspect. Lying at the feet of that high-souled Rishi as the latter sat, the dog, with a heart like that of a human being, became exceedingly attached to him in consequence of the affection with which he was treated. One day a leopard of great strength came there, subsisting upon blood. Of a cruel disposition and always filled with delight at the prospect of prey, the fierce animal looked like a second Yama. Licking the corners of his mouth with the tongue, and lashing his tail furiously, the leopard came there, hungry and thirsty, with wide open jaws, desirous of seizing the dog as his prey. Beholding that fierce beast coming, O king, the dog, in fear of his life, addressed the Muni in these words. Listen unto them, O monarch! 'O holy one, this leopard is a foe of the dogs. It wishes to slay me. O great sage, do thou act in such a way that all my fears from this animal may be dispelled through thy grace. O thou of mighty arms, without doubt thou art possessed of omniscience.' Acquainted with the thoughts of all creatures, the sage felt that the dog had ample cause for fear. Possessed of the six attributes and capable of reading the voices of all animals, the sage said the following words. "'"The sage said, 'Thou shalt have no fear of death from leopards any longer. Let thy natural form disappear and be thou a leopard, O son!' At these words, the dog was transformed into a leopard with skin bright as gold. With stripes on his body and with large teeth, thenceforth he began to live in that forest fearlessly. Meanwhile, the leopard, seeing before him an animal of his own species, immediately forsook all feelings of animosity towards it. Some time after, there came into the hermitage a fierce and hungry tiger with open mouth. Licking the corners of his mouth with the tongue, and eagerly desirous of drinking blood, that tiger began to approach towards the animal that had been transformed into a leopard. Beholding the hungry tiger of terrible teeth approach that forest, the (transformed) leopard sought the Rishi's protection for saving his life. The sage, who showed great affection for the leopard in consequence of the latter's living in the same place with him, forthwith transformed his leopard into a tiger powerful for all foes. The tiger seeing a beast of his own species did him no injury, O king. The dog, having in course of time been transformed into a powerful tiger subsisting upon flesh and blood, abstained from his former food which had consisted of fruit and roots. Indeed, from that time, O monarch, the transformed tiger lived, subsisting upon the other animals of the forest, like a true king of beasts."'" SECTION CXVII "'Bhishma said, "The dog transformed into a tiger, gratified with the flesh of slain beasts, slept at his ease. One day as he lay on the yard of the hermitage, an infuriated elephant came there, looking like a risen cloud. Of huge stature, with rent cheeks, having signs of the lotus on his body, and with broad frontal globes, the animal had long tusks and a voice deep as that of the clouds. Beholding that infuriated elephant, proud of his strength, approaching towards him, the tiger agitated with fear, sought the protection of the Rishi. That best of sages thereupon transformed the tiger into an elephant. The real elephant, seeing an individual of his own species, huge as mass of clouds, became terrified. The Rishi's elephant then, freckled with the dust of lotus filaments, dived delightfully into lakes overgrown with lotuses and wandered by their banks indented with rabbit holes. A considerable time elapsed in this way. One day as the elephant was cheerfully striding along the vicinity of the hermitage, there came before him unto that spot a maned lion born in a mountain cave and accustomed to slay elephants. Beholding the lion coming, the Rishi's elephant, from fear of life, began to tremble and sought the protection of the sage. The sage thereupon transformed that prince of elephants into a lion. As the wild lion was an animal of same species with himself, the Rishi's lion no longer feared him. On the other hand, the wild lion seeing a stronger beast of his own species before him, became terrified. The Rishi's lion began to dwell in that hermitage within the forest. Through fear of that animal, the other animals no longer ventured to approach the hermitage. Indeed, they all seemed to be inspired with fear about the safety of their lives. Some time after one day, a slayer of all animals, possessed of great strength inspiring all creatures with fright, having eight legs and eyes on the forehead, viz., a Sarabha, came to that spot. Indeed he came to that very hermitage for the object of slaying the Rishi's lion. Seeing this, the sage transformed his lion into a Sarabha of great strength. The wild Sarabha, beholding the Rishi's Sarabha before him to be fiercer and more powerful, quickly fled away, from that forest. Having been thus transformed into a Sarabha by the sage, the animal lived happily by the side of his transformer. All the animals then that dwelt in the vicinity became inspired with the fear of that Sarabha. Their fear and the desire of saving their lives led them all to fly away from that forest. Filled with delight, the Sarabha continued every day to slay animals for his food. Transformed into a carnivorous beast, he no longer affected fruit and roots upon which he had formerly lived. One day that ungrateful beast who had first been a dog but who was now transformed into a Sarabha, eagerly thirsting for blood, wished to slay the sage. The latter, by ascetic power, saw it all by his spiritual knowledge. Possessed of great wisdom, the sage, having ascertained the intentions of the beast, addressed him in these words. "'"The sage said, 'O dog, thou wert first transformed into a leopard. From a leopard thou wert then made a tiger. From a tiger thou wert next transformed into an elephant with the temporal juice trickling down thy cheeks. Thy next transformation was into a lion. From a mighty lion thou wert then transformed into a Sarabha. Filled with affection for thee, it was I that transformed thee into these diverse shapes. Thou didst not, and dost not, belong by birth, to any of those species. Since, however, O sinful wretch, thou desirest to slay me who have done thee no injury, thou shalt return to thy own species and be a dog again.' After this, that mean and foolish animal of wicked soul, transformed into a Sarabha once more assumed, in consequence of the Rishi's curse, his own proper form of a dog."'" SECTION CXVIII "'Bhishma said, "Having once more assumed his proper form, the dog became very cheerless. The Rishi, reproving him, drove the sinful creature from his hermitage. An intelligent king should, guided by this precedent, appoint servants, each fit for the office assigned to him, and exercise proper supervision over them, having first ascertained their qualifications in respect of truthfulness and purity, sincerity, general disposition, knowledge of the scripture, conduct, birth, self-restraint, compassion, strength, energy, dignity, and forgiveness. A king should never take a minister without first having examined him. If a king gathers round him persons of low birth, he can never be happy. A person of high birth, even if persecuted without any fault by his royal master, never sets his heart, in consequence of the respectability of his blood, upon injuring his master. An individual, however, that is mean and of low birth, having obtained even great affluence from his connection with some honest man, becomes an enemy of the latter if only he is reproached in words.[351] A minister should be possessed of high birth and strength; he should be forgiving and self-restrained, and have all his sense under control; he should be free from the vice of rapacity, contented with his just acquisitions, delighted with the prosperity of his master and friends, conversant with the requirements of place and time, ever employed in attaching men to himself or his master by doing good offices to them, always attentive to his duties, desiring the good of his master, always heedful, faithful in the discharge of his own duties, a thorough master of the art of war and peace, conversant with the king's requirements in respect of the great aggregate of three, beloved by both the citizens and the inhabitants of the provinces, acquainted with all kinds of battle-array for piercing and breaking the enemy's ranks, competent to inspire the forces of his master with cheerfulness and joy, capable of reading signs and gestures, acquainted with all requirements in respect of march, skilled in the art of training elephants, free from pride, confident of his own powers, clever in the transaction of business, always doing what is right, of righteous conduct, surrounded by righteous friends, of sweet speech, possessed of agreeable features, capable of leading men, well-versed in policy, possessed of accomplishments, energetic in action, active, possessed of ingenuity, of a sweet temper, modest in address, patient, brave, rich, and capable of adapting his measures to the requirement of place and time. That king who succeeds in obtaining such a minister can never be humiliated or overpowered by any one. Indeed, his kingdom gradually spreads over the earth like the light of the moon. A king, again, who is conversant with the scriptures, who regards righteousness to be superior to everything, who is always engaged in protecting his subjects, and who is possessed of the following virtues, obtains the love of all. He should be patient, forgiving, pure in conduct, severe when the occasion requires it, acquainted with the efficacy of exertion, respectful in his behaviour towards all his seniors, possessed of a knowledge of the scriptures, ready to listen to the instructions and counsels of those that are competent to instruct and give counsel, capable of judging correctly amid different or opposite courses of action suggested to him, intelligent, of a retentive memory, ready to do what is just, self-restrained, always sweet-speeched, forgiving even unto enemies, practising charity personally, possessed of faith, of agreeable features, ready to extend the hand of succour to persons plunged in distress, possessed of ministers that always seek his good, free from the fault of egoism, never without a wife,[352] and undisposed to do anything with haste. He should always reward his ministers when they achieve anything signal. He should love those that are devoted to him. Avoiding idleness, he should always attract men to himself by doing good to them. His face should always be cheerful. He should always be attentive to the wants of his servants and never give way to wrath. He should, besides, be magnanimous. Without laying aside the rod of chastisement, he should wield it with propriety. He should make all men about him act righteously. Having spies for his eyes, he should always supervise the concerns of his subjects, and should be conversant in all matters connected with virtue and wealth. A king that is possessed of these hundred qualifications earns the love of all. Every ruler should strive to be such. The king should also, O monarch, search for good warriors (to enlist in his army) that should all be possessed of the necessary qualifications, for aiding him in protecting his kingdom. A king that desires his own advancement should never disregard his army. That king whose soldiers are brave in battle, grateful, and versed in the scriptures, whose army consists of foot-soldiers conversant with the treatises on religion and duty, whose elephant-warriors are fearless, whose car-warriors are skilled in their own mode of fighting and well-versed in shooting arrows and in wielding other weapons, succeeds in subjugating the whole earth. That king who is always employed in attaching all men to himself, who is ready for exertion, who is rich in friends and allies, becomes the foremost of rulers. A king who has succeeded in attaching all men unto himself, may, O Bharata, with the aid of even a thousand horsemen of courage, succeed in conquering the whole earth."'" SECTION CXIX "'Bhishma said, "That king who, guided by the lesson to be drawn from the story of the dog, appoints his servants to offices for which each is fit, succeeds in enjoying the happiness that is attached to sovereignty. A dog should not, with honours, be placed in a position above that for which he is fit. If a dog be placed above the situation which is fit for him, he becomes intoxicated with pride. Ministers should be appointed to offices for which they are fit and should possess such qualifications as are needed for their respective occupations. Appointments of unfit persons are not at all approved. That king who confers on his servants offices for which each is fit, succeeds, in consequence of such merit, to enjoy the happiness attaching to sovereignty. A Sarabha should occupy the position of a Sarabha; a lion should swell with the might of a lion; a tiger should be placed in the position of a tiger; and a leopard should be placed as a leopard. Servants should, according to the ordinance, be appointed to offices for which each is fit. If thou wishest to achieve success, thou shouldst never appoint servants in situations higher than what they deserve. That foolish king who, transgressing precedent, appoints servants to offices for which they are not fit, fails to gratify his people. A king that desires to possess accomplished servants should never appoint persons that are destitute of intelligence, that are low-minded, that are without wisdom, that are not masters of their senses, and that are not of high birth. Men that are honest, possessed of high birth, brave, learned, destitute of malice and envy, high-minded, pure in behaviour, and clever in the transaction of business, deserve to be appointed as ministers. Persons that are possessed of humility, ready in the performance of their duties, tranquil in disposition, pure in mind, adorned with diverse other gifts of nature, and are never the objects of calumny in respect of the offices they hold, should be the intimate associates of the king. A lion should always make a companion of a lion. If one that is not a lion becomes the companion of a lion, one earns all the advantages that belong to a lion. That lion however who, while engaged in discharging the duties of a lion, has a pack of dogs only for his associates, never succeeds in consequence of such companionship, in accomplishing those duties. Even thus, O ruler of men, may a king succeed in subjugating the whole earth if he has for his ministers men possessed of courage, wisdom, great learning, and high birth. O foremost of royal masters, kings should never entertain a servant that is destitute of learning and sincerity and wisdom and great wealth. These men that are devoted to the services of their master are never stopped by any impediments. Kings should always speak in soothing terms unto those servants that are always engaged in doing good to their masters. Kings should always, with great care, look after their treasuries. Indeed, kings have their roots in their treasuries. A king should always seek to swell his treasury. Let thy barns, O king, be filled with corn. And let their keep be entrusted to honest servants. Do thou seek to increase thy wealth and corn. Let thy servants, skilled in battle, be always attentive to their duties. It is desirable that they should be skilful in the management of steeds. O delighter of the Kurus, attend to the wants of thy kinsmen and friends. Be thou surrounded with friends and relatives. Seek thou the good of thy city. By citing the precedent of the dog I have instructed thee about the duties thou shouldst adopt towards thy subjects. What further dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION CXX "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O Bharata, discoursed upon the many duties of king-craft that were observed and laid down in days of old by persons of ancient times conversant with kingly duties. Thou hast, indeed, spoken in detail of those duties as approved by the wise. Do thou, however, O bull of Bharata's race, speak of them in such a way that one may succeed in retaining them in memory."[353] "'Bhishma said, "The protection of all creatures is regarded as the highest duty of the Kshatriya. Listen now to me, O king, as to how the duty of protection is to be exercised. A king conversant with his duties should assume many forms even as the peacock puts forth plumes of diverse hues. Keenness, crookedness, truth, and sincerity, are the qualities that should be present in him. With thorough impartiality, he should practise the qualities of goodness if he is to earn felicity. He must assume that particular hue or form which is beneficial in view of the particular object which he seeks to accomplish.[354] A king who can assume diverse forms succeeds in accomplishing even the most subtle objects. Dumb like the peacock in autumn, he should conceal his counsel. He should speak little, and the little he speaks should be sweet. He should be of good features and well versed in the scriptures. He should always be heedful in respect of those gates through which dangers may come and overtake him, like men taking care of breaks in embankments through which the waters of large tanks may rush and flood their fields and houses. He should seek the refuge of Brahmanas crowned with ascetic success even as men seek the refuge of lordly rivers generated by the rain-water collected within mountain lakes. That king who desires to amass wealth should act like religious hypocrites in the matter of keeping a coronal lock.[355] The king should always have the rod of chastisement uplifted in his hands. He should always act heedfully (in the matter of levying his taxes) after examining the incomes and expenses of his subjects like men repairing to a full-grown palmyra for drawing its juice.[356] He should act equitably towards his own subjects; cause the crops of his enemies to be crushed by the tread of his cavalry; march against foes when his own wings have become strong; and observe all the sources of his own weakness. He should proclaim the faults of his foes; crush those that are their partisans; and collect wealth from outside like a person plucking flowers from the woods. He should destroy those foremost of monarchs that swell with might and stand with uplifted heads like mountains, by seeking the shelter of unknown shades[357] and by ambuscades and sudden attacks. Like the peacock in the season of rains, he should enter his nightly quarters alone and unseen. Indeed, he should enjoy, after the manner of the peacock, within his inner apartments, the companionship of his wives. He should not put off his mail. He should himself protect his own self, and avoid the nets spread out for him by the spies and secret agents of his foes. He should also win over the affections of the spies of his enemies, but extirpate them when opportunity occurs. Like the peacocks the king should kill his powerful and angry foes of crooked policy, and destroy their force and drive them away from home. The king should also like the peacock do what is good to him, and glean wisdom from everywhere as they collect insects even from the forest. A wise and peacock-like king should thus rule his kingdom and adopt a policy which is beneficial to him. By exercising his own intelligence, he should settle what he is to do. By consulting with others he should either abandon or confirm such resolution. Aided by that intelligence which is sharpened by the scriptures, one can settle his courses of action. In this consists the usefulness of the scriptures. By practising the arts of conciliation, he should inspire confidence in the hearts of his enemies. He should display his own strength. By judging of different courses of action in his own mind he should, by exercising his own intelligence, arrive at conclusions. The king should be well-versed in the arts of conciliatory policy, he should be possessed of wisdom; and should be able to do what should be done and avoid what should not. A person of wisdom and deep intelligence does not stand in need of counsels or instruction. A wise man who is possessed of intelligence like Vrihaspati, if he incurs obloquy, soon regains his disposition like heated iron dipped in water. A king should accomplish all objects, of his own or of others, according to the means laid down in the scriptures. A king conversant with the ways of acquiring wealth should always employ in his acts such men as are mild indisposition, possessed of wisdom and courage and great strength. Beholding his servants employed in acts for which each is fit, the king should act in conformity with all of them like the strings of a musical instrument, stretched to proper tension, according with their intended notes. The king should do good to all persons without transgressing the dictates of righteousness. That king stands immovable as a hill whom everybody regards--'He is mine.' Having set himself to the task of adjudicating between litigants, the king, without making any difference between persons that are liked and those that are disliked by him, should uphold justice. The king should appoint in all his offices such men as are conversant with the characteristics of particular families, of the masses of the people, and of different countries; as are mild in speech; as are of middle age; as have no faults; as are devoted to good act; as are never heedless; as are free from rapacity; as are possessed of learning and self-restraint; as are firm in virtue and always prepared to uphold the interests of both virtue and profit. In this way, having ascertained the course of actions and their final objects the king should accomplish them heedfully; and instructed in all matters by his spies, he may live in cheerfulness. The king who never gives way to wrath and joy without sufficient cause, who supervises all his acts himself, and who looks after his income and expenditure with his own eyes, succeeds in obtaining great wealth from the earth. That king is said to be conversant with the duties of king-craft who rewards his officers and subjects publicly (for any good they do), who chastises those that deserve chastisement, who protects his own self, and who protects his kingdom from every evil. Like the Sun shedding his rays upon everything below, the king should always look after his kingdom himself, and aided by his intelligence he should supervise all his spies and officers. The king should take wealth from his subjects at the proper time. He should never proclaim what he does. Like an intelligent man milking his cow every day, the king should milk his kingdom every day. As the bee collects honey from flowers gradually, the king should draw wealth gradually from his kingdom for storing it. Having kept apart a sufficient portion, that which remains should be spent upon acquisition of religious merit and the gratification of the desire for pleasure. That king who is acquainted with duties and who is possessed of intelligence should never waste what has been stored. The king should never disregard any wealth for its littleness; he should never disregard foes for their powerlessness; he should, by exercising his own intelligence, examine his own self; he should never repose confidence upon persons destitute of intelligence. Steadiness, cleverness, self-restraint, intelligence, health, patience, bravery, and attention to the requirements of time and place,--these eight qualities lead to the increase of wealth, be it small or be it much. A little fire, fed with clarified butter, may blaze forth into a conflagration. A single seed may produce a thousand trees. A king, therefore, even when he hears that his income and expenditure are great, should not disregard the smaller items. A foe, whether he happens to be a child, a young man, or an aged one, succeeds in slaying a person who is heedless. An insignificant foe, when he becomes powerful, may exterminate a king. A king, therefore, who is conversant with the requirements of time is the foremost of all rulers. A foe, strong or weak, guided by malice, may very soon destroy the fame of a king, obstruct the acquisition of religious merit by him, and deprive him of even his energy. Therefore, a king that is of regulated mind should never be heedless when he has a foe. If a king possessed of intelligence desire affluence and victory, he should, after surveying his expenditure, income, savings, and administration, make either peace or war. For this reason the king should seek the aid of an intelligent minister. Blazing intelligence weakens even a mighty person; by intelligence may power that is growing be protected; a growing foe is weakened by the aid of intelligence; therefore, every act that is undertaken conformably to the dictates of intelligence is deserving of praise. A king possessed of patience and without any fault, may, if he likes, obtain the fruition of all his wishes, with the aid of even a small force. That king, however, who wishes to be surrounded by a train of self-seeking flatterers,[358] never succeeds in winning even the smallest benefit. For these reasons, the king should act with mildness in taking wealth from his subjects. If a king continually oppresses his people, he meets with extinction like a flash of lightening that blazes forth only for a second. Learning, penances, vast wealth, indeed, everything, can be earned by exertion. Exertion, as it occurs in embodied creatures, is governed by intelligence. Exertion, therefore, should be regarded as the foremost of all things. The human body is the residence of many intelligent creatures of great energy, of Sakra, of Vishnu, of Saraswati, and of other beings. A man of knowledge, therefore, should never disregard the body.[359] A covetous man should be subjugated by constant gifts. He that is covetous is never satiated with appropriating other people's wealth. Every one, however, becomes covetous in the matter of enjoying happiness. If a person, therefore, becomes destitute of wealth, he becomes destitute of virtue and pleasure (which are objects attainable by wealth). A covetous man seeks to appropriate the wealth, the enjoyments, the sons and daughters, and the affluence of others. In covetous men every kind of fault may be seen. The king, therefore, should never take a covetous man for his minister or officer. A king (in the absence of proper agents) should despatch even a low person for ascertaining the disposition and acts of foes. A ruler possessed of wisdom should frustrate all the endeavours and objects of his enemies. That trustful and high-born king who seeks instruction from learned and virtuous Brahmanas and who is protected by his ministers, succeeds in keeping all his tributary chiefs under proper control. O prince of men, I have briefly discoursed to thee of all the duties laid down in the scriptures. Attend to them, aided by thy intelligence. That king who, in obedience to his preceptor, attends to these, succeeds in ruling the whole earth. That king who disregards the happiness that is derivable from policy and seeks for that which chance may bring, never succeeds in enjoying the happiness that attaches to sovereignty or in winning regions of bliss hereafter.[360] A king that is heedful, by properly attending to the requirements of war and peace, succeeds in slaying even such foes as are eminent for wealth, worshipped for intelligence and good conduct, possessed of accomplishments, brave in battle, and ready for exertion. The king should discover those means which are furnished by different kinds of acts and measures. He should never depend upon destiny. One that sees faults in faultless persons never succeeds in winning prosperity and fame. When two friends engage in accomplishing one and the same act, a wise man always applauds him among the two that takes upon himself the heavier share of the work. Do thou practise these duties of kings that I have told thee. Set thy heart upon the duty of protecting men. Thou mayst then easily obtain the reward of virtue. All the regions of felicity hereafter are dependent upon merit!"'"[361] SECTION CXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, thou hast now finished thy discourse upon the duties of kings. From what thou hast said it seems that Chastisement occupies a high position and is the lord of everything for everything depends upon Chastisement. It seems, O puissant one, that Chastisement, which is possessed of great energy and which is present everywhere, is the foremost of all beings among either gods and Rishis and high-souled Pitris and Yakshas and Rakshasas and Pisachas and Sadhyas, or living beings in this world including beasts and birds. Thou hast said that the entire universe, mobile and immobile, including gods, Asuras, and men, may be seen to depend upon Chastisement. I now desire, O bull of Bharata's race, to know truly who Chastisement is. Of what kind is he? What is his form? What is his disposition? Of what is he made? Whence is his origin? What are his features? What is his splendour? How does he remain wakeful among living creatures so heedfully? Who is he that remains eternally wakeful, protecting this universe? Who is he that is known to be the foremost of all things? Who, indeed, is that high personage called Chastisement? What is that upon which Chastisement depends? And what is his course?" "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O descendent of Kuru, who Chastisement is and why he is called also Vyavahara! That upon whom all things depend is called Chastisement. Chastisement is that by which righteousness is kept up. He is sometimes called Vyavahara. In order that the righteousness of a king that is heedfully awake may not suffer extinction (Chastisement has come to be called by that name). It is for this reason that the name Vyavahara becomes applicable to it.[362] In olden days Manu, O king, declared first of all this truth, viz.,--'He who protects all creatures, the loved and the odious equally, by impartially wielding the rod of Chastisement, is said to be the embodiment of righteousness.'--These words that I have said were, O king, first uttered in days of old by Manu. They represent the high words of Brahman. And because these words were spoken first, therefore, they are known as the first words. And since it is by Chastisement that the misappropriation of other people's possessions is stopped, therefore Chastisement has come to be called by the name of Vyavahara. The aggregate of three always rests on well applied Chastisement. Chastisement is a great god. In form he looks like a blazing fire. His complexion is dark like that of the petals of the blue lotus. He is equipt with four teeth, has four arms and eight legs and many eyes. His ears are pointed like shafts and his hair stands upright. He has matted locks and two tongues. His face has the hue of copper, and he is clad in a lion's skin.[363] That irresistible deity assumes such a fierce shape. Assuming again the form of the sword, the bow, the mace, the dart, the trident, the mallet, the arrow, the thick and short club, the battle-axe, the discus, the noose, the heavy bludgeon, the rapier, the lance, and in fact of every kind of weapon that exists on earth, Chastisement moves in the world. Indeed, Chastisement moves on earth, piercing and cutting and afflicting and lopping off and dividing and striking and slaying and rushing against its victims. These, O Yudhishthira, are some of the names which Chastisement bears, viz., Sword, Sabre, Righteousness, Fury, the Irresistible, the Parent of prosperity, Victory, Punisher, Checker, the Eternal, the Scriptures, Brahmana, Mantra, Avenger, the Foremost of first Legislators, Judge, the Undecaying, God, the individual whose course is irresistible, the Ever-agoing, the First born, the individual without affections, the Soul of Rudra, the eldest Manu and the great Benefactor. Chastisement is the holy Vishnu. He is the puissant Narayana. And because he always assumes a terrible form, therefore he is called Mahapurusha. His wife Morality is also known by the names of Brahmana's Daughter, Lakshmi, Vriti, Saraswati, and Mother of the universe. Chastisement thus has many forms. Blessings and curse, pleasure and pain, righteousness and unrighteousness, strength and weakness, fortune and misfortune, merit and demerit, virtue and vice, desire and aversion, season and month, night and day, and hour, heedfulness and heedlessness, joy and anger, peace and self-restraint, destiny and exertion, salvation and condemnation, fear and fearlessness, injury and abstention from injury, penances and sacrifice and rigid abstinence, poison and healthy food, the beginning, the middle, and the end, the result of all murderous acts, insolence, insanity, arrogance, pride, patience, policy, impolicy, powerlessness and power, respect, disrespect, decay and stability, humility, charity, fitness of time and unfitness of time, falsehood, wisdom, truth, belief, disbelief, impotence, trade, profit, loss, success, defeat, fierceness, mildness, death, acquisition and non-acquisition, agreement and disagreement, that which should be done and that which should not be done, strength and weakness, malice and goodwill, righteousness and unrighteousness, shame and shamelessness, modesty, prosperity and adversity, energy, acts, learning, eloquence, keenness of understanding,--all these, O Yudhishthira, are forms of Chastisement in this world. Hence, Chastisement is exceedingly multiform. If Chastisement had not existed, all creatures would have ground one another. Through fear of Chastisement, O Yudhishthira, living creatures do not slay one another. The subjects, O king, always protected by Chastisement, enhance the might of their ruler. It is for this that Chastisement is regarded as the foremost refuge of all. Chastisement, O king, quickly sets the world on the path of righteousness. Dependent upon truth, righteousness exists in the Brahmanas. Endued with righteousness, foremost of Brahmanas became attached to the Vedas. From the Vedas the sacrifices flow. Sacrifices gratify the deities. The deities, being gratified, commend the denizens of the earth to Indra. For benefiting the denizens of the earth, Indra gives them food (in the form of rain without which crops and vegetation would fail). The life of all creatures depends upon food. From food creatures derive their support and growth. Chastisement (in the form of the Kshatriya ruler) remains wakeful amongst them. For serving this object, Chastisement assumes the form of a Kshatriya among men. Protecting men, he remains awake, always heedful and never decaying. Chastisement has again these other eight names, viz., God, Man, Life, Power, Heart, the Lord of all creatures, the Soul of all things, and the Living creature. God gave both affluence and the rod of chastisement to the king who is possessed of strength (in the form of military forces) and who is a combination of five ingredients.[364] Nobility of blood, ministers of great wealth, knowledge, the different kinds of forces (such as strength of body, energy of mind, etc.), with the eight objects mentioned below, and the other force (viz., that which depends upon a well-filled treasury), should be sought for the king, O Yudhishthira. Those eight objects are elephants, horses, cars, foot soldiers, boats, impressed labourers (for following the camp and doing other work), increase of population, and cattle (such as sheep, etc.). Of the army equipped in mail and with other accoutrements, car-warriors, elephant-warriors, cavalry, infantry, officers, and surgeons constitute the limbs. Beggars, principal judges, astrologers, performers of propitiatory and Atharvan rites, treasury, allies, grain, and all other requisites, constitute the body, composed of seven attributes and eight limbs, of a kingdom. Chastisement is another powerful limb of a kingdom. Chastisement (in the form of an army) is the author of a kingdom. God himself has, with great care, sent Chastisement for the use of the Kshatriya. This eternal universe is impartial Chastisement's self. There is nothing more worthy of respect by kings than Chastisement by which the ways of Righteousness are pointed out. Brahman himself, for the protection of the world and for establishing the duties of different individuals, sent down (or created) Chastisement. There is another kind of Vyavahara arising out of the dispute of litigants which also has sprung from Brahman. Principally characterised by a belief in either of the two parties, that Vyavahara is seen to be productive of good. There is another kind of Vyavahara which has the Veda for its soul. It is also said to have the Veda for its cause. There is, O tiger among kings, a (third) kind of Vyavahara which is connected with family customs but which is consistent with the scriptures.[365] That Vyavahara which has, as above, been said to be characterised by a belief in either of two litigant parties, should be known by us as inhering in the king. It should be also known by the name of Chastisement, as also by the name of Evidence. Although Chastisement is seen to be regulated by Evidence, yet it has been said to have its soul in Vyavahara. That which has been called Vyavahara is really based upon Vedic precepts. That Vyavahara which has been indicated to have the Vedas for its soul is Morality or duty. It is also productive of good unto persons believing in duty and morality, men of cleansed souls have spoken of that Vyavahara as they have done of ordinary law.[366] The third kind of Vyavahara is also a preceptor of men, and it has also its roots in the Veda, O Yudhishthira! It upholds the three worlds. It has Truth for its soul and it is productive of prosperity. That which is Chastisement has been seen by us to be eternal Vyavahara. That which has been said to be Vyavahara is verily the Veda. That which is the Veda is morality, duty. That which is morality and duty is the path of Righteousness. This last it was which in the beginning had been Grandsire Brahman, that Lord of all creatures. Brahman is the Creator of the entire universe with the gods and Asuras and Rakshasas and human beings and snakes, and of every other thing. Hence that Vyavahara which is characterised by a belief in either of two litigant parties has also flowed from him. For this reason He has laid down the following in respect of Vyavahara: Neither mother, nor father, nor brother, nor wife, nor priest, is unpunishable with that king who rules agreeably to his duty."'" SECTION CXXII "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story that follows. There was among the Angas a king of great splendour, called Vasuhoma. That king was always engaged in acts of piety, and accompanied by his spouse he always practiced the most rigid penances. He repaired to the spot called Munjaprishtha held in high esteem by the Pitris and the celestial Rishis. There, on that peak of Himavat, near the golden mountains of Merit, (the great Brahmana here) Rama, sitting under the shade of a well-known banian, had tied his matted locks together.[367] From that time, O monarch, the spot, which is a favourite haunt of Rudra, came to be called Munjaprishtha by Rishis of rigid vows. King Vasuhoma, residing in that spot, acquired many pious attributes and, having gained the esteem of the Brahmanas, came to be regarded as a celestial Rishi in holiness. One day, that crusher of foes, that friend of Sakra, viz., king Mandhatri of great soul, came to Vasuhoma on his mountain retreat. Arrived there, Mandhatri, beholding king Vasuhoma of austere penances stood before the latter in an attitude of humility. Vasuhoma offered unto his guest water to wash his feet, and the Arghya consisting of the usual articles, and enquired of him about the well-being or otherwise of his kingdom consisting of seven limbs. After this, Vasuhoma addressed his royal guest who faithfully followed the practices of the righteous men of old, saying, 'What, O king, shall I do for thee?' Thus addressed, O delighter of the Kurus, Mandhatri, that best of kings, highly gratified, answered Vasuhoma of great wisdom seated at his ease, in the following words. "'"Mandhatri said, 'Thou hast, O king, studied all the doctrines of Vrihaspati. O best of men, the doctrines laid down by Usanas also are known to thee. I desire to know what is the origin of Chastisement. What was awake before Chastisement? What also is said to be its end? How came Chastisement to depend upon the Kshatriya? Tell me all this, O thou of great wisdom! I come to thee as a disciple ready to give thee the tutorial fee.'[368] "'"Vasuhoma said, 'Listen, O king, as to how Chastisement, that upholder of the world, arose. The soul of righteousness, it is eternal, and was created for maintaining the due government of all creatures. It hath been heard by us that once upon a time, the Grandsire of all the worlds, viz., the divine Brahman desiring to perform a sacrifice, failed to find a priest possessed of qualifications like himself. For this reason he conceived in his brain and held the foetus there for many long years. After a thousand years had passed away, the great god sneezed. In that act, the foetus fell from his head. The divine being, O chastiser of foes, that thus took birth from Brahman was called by the name of Kshupa. Possessed of great powers, he became a lord of creatures. That Kshupa became the priest, O king, in the sacrifice of the high-souled Grandsire. Upon the commencement of that sacrifice of Brahman, O best of kings, Chastisement disappeared in consequence of the visible form that the Grandsire was then obliged to assume.[369] Chastisement having disappeared, a great confusion set in among all creatures. There was no longer any distinction between what should be done and what should not. All distinction, again, between clean and unclean food ceased. Men ceased to distinguish between what drink was allowable and what drink was otherwise. All creatures began to injure one another. There were no restraints in the matter of the union of the sexes. All idea of property ceased. All creatures began to rob, and snatching meat from one another. The strong began to slay the weak. Nobody cherished the slightest consideration for his neighbour. The Grandsire then, having worshipped the divine and eternal Vishnu, addressed that great boon-giving god, saying, "It behoveth thee, O Kesava, to show mercy on the present occasion. Let it be so ordained by thee that the confusion that has occurred may disappear." Thus addressed, that foremost of deities, armed with an enormous Sula,[370] having reflected long, created his ownself into the form of Chastisement. From that form, having Righteousness for its legs, the goddess Saraswati created Danda-niti (Science of Chastisement) which very soon became celebrated over the world. After this the great god armed with the enormous Sula, having again reflected for some time, appointed a few among the gods as the lords or rulers of their respective classes. It was then that he made the divine Indra of a thousand eyes the ruler of the deities. Yama the son of Vivaswat was made the lord of the Pitris. Kuvera was made the lord of treasures and of all the Rakshasas. Meru was made the king of the mountains, and Ocean was made the lord of the rivers. The puissant Varuna was installed into the sovereignty of the waters and the Asuras. Death was made the lord of life and all living things, and Fire was appointed as the lord of all things possessed of energy. The puissant Isana the high-souled and eternal Mahadeva, of three eyes, was made the lord of the Rudras. Vasishtha was made the lord of the Brahmanas, and Jatavedas was made the chief of the Vasus. Surya was made the lord of all luminous bodies, and Chandramas was made the king of Stars and constellations. Ansumat was made the lord of all herbs, and the puissant and foremost of deities, viz., Kumara or Skanda, of twelve arms, was made the chief of all the spirits and ghostly beings (that wait upon Mahadeva). Time, possessing the seeds of both destruction and growth, was made the sovereign of all creatures as also of the four portions of Death (viz., weapons, diseases, Yama, and acts) and lastly of grief and joy. The Srutis declare that the supreme god Mahadeva, that lord of lords, O king, armed with Sula, is the chief of the Rudras. The rod of chastisement was given to Brahmana's son of subsequent birth, viz., Kshupa, that lord of all creatures and the foremost one of all virtuous persons. Upon the completion of that sacrifice according to due rites, Mahadeva, after doing proper reverence made over Chastisement, that protector of Righteousness, unto Vishnu.[371] Vishnu gave it to Angiras; and Angiras, that foremost of ascetics, made it over to Indra and Marichi. Marichi gave it to Bhrigu. Bhrigu gave that rod intended for the protection of righteousness, unto all the Rishis. The Rishis gave it unto the Regents of the world, and the Regents made it over again to Kshupa. Kshupa then made it over to Manu the son of Surya. The deity of Sraddhas (viz., Manu), gave it unto his sons for the sake of true righteousness and wealth. Chastisement should be inflicted with discrimination, guided by righteousness and not by caprice. It is intended for restraining the wicked. Fines and forfeitures are intended for striking alarm, and not for filling the king's treasury. The maiming of one's body or the infliction of death should not proceed from trivial causes. The infliction of physical pain by diverse means, hurling from tops of mountains, and banishment also, should not proceed from similar causes. Surya's son Manu gave the rod of chastisement (to his sons) for the protection of the world. Chastisement, in the hands of successive holders, remains awake, protecting all creatures. At the top of the scale, the divine Indra is awake (with the rod of chastisement); after him, Agni of blazing flames; after him, Varuna; after Varuna, Prajapati; after Prajapati, Righteousness whose essence consists of restraint;[372] after Righteousness the son of Brahman, viz., the eternal Law; after Law, Energy is awake, employed in the act of protection; after Energy, the herbs (offered in sacrifices for supporting the gods and used as food and medicines); after the herbs, the mountains; after the mountains, all kinds of juices and their attributes; after these, the goddess Niriti; after Niriti, the planets and the luminous bodies in heaven; after these, the Vedas; after the Vedas, the puissant form of Vishnu with equine head; after him, the almighty and eternal Grandsire, viz., Brahman; after the Grandsire, the divine and blessed Mahadeva; after Mahadeva, the Viswedevas; after them, the great Rishis; after the Rishis the divine Soma; after Soma, the deities who are all eternal; after the deities, know that the Brahmanas are awake. After the Brahmanas, the Kshatriyas are righteously protecting all creatures. The eternal universe, consisting of mobile and immobile creatures, is kept awake by the Kshatriyas. Creatures are kept awake in this world, and Chastisement is awake among them. Possessed of splendour resembling that of the Grandsire himself, Chastisement keeps together and upholds everything.[373] Time, O Bharata, is always awake, in the beginning, the middle, and the end. The master of all the worlds, the lord of all creatures, the puissant and blessed Mahadeva, the god of gods, is always awake. He is called by these names also, viz., Kapardin, Sankara, Rudra, Bhava, Sthanu and the lord of Uma. Thus Chastisement also keeps awake in the beginning, the middle, and the end. A virtuous king should rule properly, guided by Chastisement.'" "'Bhishma continued, "That person who listens to this teaching of Vasuhoma, and having listened to it conducts himself according to its tenure, is sure to obtain the fruition of all his wishes. I have now, O bull among men, told thee everything as to who Chastisement is, that restrainer of the universe which is governed by righteousness."'" SECTION CXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "I wish, O sire, to hear the settled conclusions on the subject of Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure. Depending upon which of these does the course of life proceed? What are the respective roots of Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure? What are again the results of those three? They are sometimes seen to mingle with one another, and sometimes to exist separately and independently of one another." "'Bhishma said, "When men in this world endeavour with good hearts to achieve Wealth with the aid of Virtue, then those three, viz., Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure, may be seen to co-exist in a state of union in respect of time, cause, and action.[374] Wealth has its root in Virtue, and Pleasure is said to be the fruit of Wealth. All the three again have their root in Will. Will is concerned with objects. All objects, again, in their entirety, exist for gratifying the desire of enjoyment. Upon these then does the aggregate of three depend. Entire abstraction from all objects is Emancipation. It is said that Virtue is sought for the protection of the body, and Wealth is for the acquisition of Virtue. Pleasure is only the gratification of the senses. All the three have, therefore, the quality of Passion.[375] Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure, when sought for the sake of heaven or such other rewards, are said to be remote because the rewards themselves are remote. When sought, however, for the sake of Knowledge of Self, they are said to be proximate. One should seek them when they are of such a character.[376] One should not cast them off even mentally. If Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure are to be abandoned, one should abandon them when one has freed one's self by ascetic penances.[377] The aim of the triple aggregate is towards emancipation. Would that man could obtain it! One's acts, undertaken and completed with even the aid of intelligence may or may not lead to the expected results. Virtue is not always the root of Wealth, for other things than Virtue lead to Wealth (such as service, agriculture, &c). There is again a contrary opinion (for some say that Wealth is earned through chance or birth or like causes). In some instances, Wealth acquired has been productive of evil. Other things again than Wealth (such as fasts and vows) have led to the acquisition of Virtue. As regards this topic, therefore, a dullard whose understanding has been debased by ignorance, never succeeds in acquiring the highest aim of Virtue and Wealth, viz., Emancipation. Virtue's dross consists in the desire of reward; the dross of Wealth consists in hoarding it; when purged of these impurities, they are productive of great results. In this connection is cited the narrative of the discourse that look place in days of old between Kamandaka and Angaristha. One day, king Angaristha, having waited for the opportunity, saluted the Rishi Kamandaka as he was seated at his ease and asked him the following questions, 'If a king, forced by lust and folly, commits sin for which he afterwards repents, by what acts, O Rishi, can those sins be destroyed? If again a man impelled by ignorance, does what is sinful in the belief that he is acting righteously, how shall the king put a stop to that sin come into vogue among men?' "'"Kamandaka said, 'That man who, abandoning Virtue and Wealth pursues only Pleasure, reaps as the consequence of such conduct the destruction of his intelligence. The destruction of intelligence is followed by heedlessness that is at once destructive of both Virtue and Wealth. From such heedlessness proceed dire atheism and systematic wickedness of conduct. If the king does not restrain those wicked men of sinful conduct, all good subjects then live in fear of him like the inmate of a room within which a snake has concealed itself. The subjects do not follow such a king. Brahmanas and all pious persons also act in the same way. As a consequence the king incurs great danger, and ultimately the risk of destruction itself. Overtaken by infamy and insult, he has to drag on a miserable existence. A life of infamy, however, is equal to death. Men learned in the scriptures have indicated the following means for checking sin. The king should always devote himself to the study of the three Vedas. He should respect the Brahmanas and do good offices unto them. He should be devoted to righteousness. He should make alliance (of marriage) with high families. He should wait upon high-minded Brahmanas adorned with the virtue of forgiveness. He should perform ablutions and recite sacred mantras and thus pass his time happily. Banishing all wicked subjects from himself and his kingdom, he should seek the companionship of virtuous men. He should gratify all persons by speeches or good acts. He should say unto all--"I am yours,"--proclaim the virtues of even his foes. By pursuing such conduct he may soon cleanse himself of his sins and win the high regard of all. Without doubt, by conduct such as this all his sins will be destroyed. Thou shouldst accomplish all those high duties which thy seniors and preceptors would indicate. Thou art sure to obtain great blessing through the grace of thy seniors and preceptors.'"'" SECTION CXXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "All persons on earth, O foremost of men, applaud virtuous behaviour. I have, however, great doubts with respect to this object of their praise. If the topic be capable of being understood by us, O foremost of virtuous men, I desire to hear everything about the way in which virtuous behaviour can be acquired. How indeed, is that behaviour acquired, O Bharata! I desire to hear it. Tell me also, O foremost of speakers, what has been said to be the characteristics of that behaviour." "'Bhishma said, "Formerly, O giver of honours, Duryodhana while burning with grief at sight of that well-known prosperity belonging to thee and thy brothers at Indraprastha and for the jeers he received in consequence of his mistakes at the grand mansion, had asked his father Dhritarashtra the same question. Listen to what transpired on that occasion, O Bharata! Having seen that grand mansion of thine and that high prosperity of which thou wert master, Duryodhana, while sitting before his father, spake of what he had seen to the latter. Having heard the words of Duryodhana, Dhritarashtra, addressing his son and Karna, replied unto him as follows. "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Why dost thou grieve, O son! I desire to hear the cause in detail. If after ascertaining the reasons they appear to be adequate, I shall then endeavour to instruct thee. O subjugator of hostile towns, thou too hast obtained great affluence. All thy brothers are ever obedient to thee, as also all thy friends and relatives. Thou coverest thy limbs with the best robes. Thou eatest the richest food.[378] Steeds of the best kind bear thee. Why then hast thou become pale and emaciated?' "'"Duryodhana said, 'Ten thousands of high-souled Snataka Brahmanas daily eat at Yudhishthira's palace off plates of gold. Beholding his excellent mansion adorned with excellent flowers and fruit, his steeds of the Tittiri and the Kalmasha breeds, his robes of diverse kinds, indeed, beholding that high prosperity of my enemies viz., the sons of Pandu, a prosperity that resembles the high affluence of Vaisravana himself, I am burning with grief, O Bharata!' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'If thou wishest, O sire, to win prosperity like that of Yudhishthira or that which is even superior to it, do thou then, O son, endeavour to be of virtuous behaviour. Without doubt, one may, by behaviour alone, conquer the three worlds. There is nothing impossible of attainment by persons of virtuous behaviour. Mandhatri conquered the whole world in course of only one night, Janamejaya, in course of three, and Nabhaga, in course of seven. All these kings were possessed of compassion and of virtuous behaviour. For this reason the earth came to them of their own accord, won over by their virtue.' "'"Duryodhana said, 'I desire to hear, O Bharata, how that behaviour may be acquired, that behaviour, viz., in consequence of which the earth was won so speedily (by the kings named by thee).' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'In this connection, the following old narrative is cited. It was formerly recited by Narada on the subject of virtuous behaviour. In days of yore, the Daitya Prahlada, by the merit of his behaviour, snatched from the high-souled Indra his sovereignty and reduced the three worlds to subjection. Sukra then, with joined hands, approached Vrihaspati. Possessed of great wisdom, the chief of the celestials addressed the great preceptor, saying, "I desire thee to tell me what is the source of felicity." Thus addressed, Vrihaspati said unto him that Knowledge (leading to emancipation) is the source of the highest felicity. Indeed, Vrihaspati indicated Knowledge to be the source of supreme felicity. Indra, however, once more asked him as to whether there was anything higher than that. "'"'Vrihaspati said, "There is something, O son, that is still higher. The high-souled Bhargava (Usanas) will instruct thee better. Repair to him, blessed be thou, and enquire of him, O chief of the celestials!" Possessed of great ascetic merit and endued with great splendour, the chief of the celestials then repaired to Bhargava and obtained from him with a gratified heart, a knowledge of what was for his great good. Obtaining the permission of the high-souled Bhargava, the performer of a hundred sacrifices once more asked the sage as to whether there was anything higher (as the means for the acquisition of felicity) than what the sage had already told him. The omniscient Bhargava said, "The high-souled Prahlada has better knowledge." Learning this, Indra became highly delighted. The chastiser of Paka, possessed of great intelligence, assumed the form of a Brahmana, and repairing to Prahlada, asked him, saying, "I desire to hear what conduces to felicity." Prahlada answered the Brahmana, saying, "O chief of regenerate ones, I have no time, being wholly occupied in the task of ruling the three worlds, I cannot, therefore, instruct thee." The Brahmana said, "O king, when thou mayst have leisure, I desire to listen to thy instructions about what course of conduct is productive of good." At this answer, king Prahlada became delighted with that utterer of Brahma. Saying, "So be it!" he availed of a favourable opportunity for imparting to the Brahmana the truths of knowledge. The Brahmana duly observed towards Prahlada the conduct which a disciple should observe towards his preceptor, and began with his whole heart to do what Prahlada desired. Many a time the Brahmana enquired, saying, "O chastiser of foes, by what means hast thou been able to win the sovereignty of the three worlds? Tell me, O righteous king, what those means are." Prahlada, O monarch, answered the question the Brahmana asked. "'"'Prahlada said, "I do not, O regenerate one, feel any pride in consequence of my being a king, nor do I cherish any hostile feelings towards the Brahmanas. On the other hand, I accept and follow the counsels of policy they declare unto me based upon the teachings of Sukra. In complete trustfulness they say unto me what they wish to say, and restrain me from courses that are unrighteous or improper. I am ever obedient to the teachings of Sukra. I wait upon and serve the Brahmanas and my seniors. I bear no malice. I am of righteous soul. I have conquered wrath. I am self-restrained, and all my senses are under my control. These regenerate ones that are my instructors pour beneficial instructions upon me like bees dropping honey into the cells of their comb. I taste the nectar dropped by those learned men, and like the Moon among the constellations I live among the members of my race.[379] Even this is nectar on earth, even this is the clearest eye, viz., listening to the teaching of Sukra from the lips of Brahmanas and acting according to them. In these consists the good of a man." Thus said Prahlada unto that utterer of Brahma. Served dutifully by him, the chief of the Daityas once more said, "O foremost of regenerate ones, I am exceedingly gratified with thee in consequence of thy dutiful behaviour towards me. Ask of me the boon thou desirest, blessed be thou, for verily I shall grant thee what thou wilt ask." The Brahmana answered the chief of the Daityas saying, "Very well. I will obey thee." Prahlada, gratified with him, said, "Take what thou wishest." "'"'The Brahmana said, "If, O king, thou hast been gratified with me and if thou wishest to do what is agreeable to me, I desire then to acquire thy behaviour. Even this is the boon that I solicit."[380] At this, though delighted, Prahlada became filled with a great fear. Indeed, when this boon was indicated by the Brahmana, the Daitya chief thought the solicitor could not be a person of ordinary energy. Wondering much, Prahlada at last said, "Let it be so." Having, however, granted the boon, the Daitya chief became filled with grief. The Brahmana, having received the boon, went away, but Prahlada, O king, became penetrated by a deep anxiety and knew not what to do. While the Daitya chief sat brooding over the matter, a flame of light issued out of his body. It had a shadowy form of great splendour and huge proportions. Prahlada asked the form, saying, "Who art thou?" The form answered, saying, "I am the embodiment of thy Behaviour. Cast off by thee I am going away. I shall henceforth, O king, dwell in that faultless and foremost of Brahmanas who had become thy devoted disciple." Having said these words, the form disappeared and soon after entered the body of Sakra. After the disappearance of that form, another of similar shape issued out of Prahlada's body. The Daitya chief addressed it, saying, "Who art thou?" The form answered, saying, "Know me, O Prahlada, for the embodiment of Righteousness. I shall go there where that foremost of Brahmanas is, for, O chief of the Daityas, I reside there where Behaviour dwells." Upon the disappearance of Righteousness, a third form, O monarch, blazing with splendour, issued out of the body of the high souled Prahlada. Asked by Prahlada as to who he was, that form possessed of great effulgence answered, saying, "Know, O chief of the Daityas, that I am Truth. I shall leave thee, following the way of Righteousness." After Truth had left Prahlada, following in the wake of Righteousness, another great person issued out of Prahlada's body. Asked by the Daitya's king, the mighty being answered, "I am the embodiment of Good deeds. Know, O Prahlada, that I live there where Truth lives." After this one had left Prahlada, another being came out, uttering loud and deep cries. Addressed by Prahlada, he answered, "Know that I am Might. I dwell there where Good deeds are." Having said these words, Might went away to that place whither Good deeds had gone. After this, a goddess of great effulgence issued out of Prahlada's body. The Daitya chief asked her and she answered him saying that she was the embodiment of Prosperity, adding, "I dwelt in thee, O hero, O thou of prowess incapable of being baffled! Cast off by thee, I shall follow in the wake of Might." The high-souled Prahlada, penetrated with great fear, once more asked the goddess, saying, "Where dost thou go, O goddess, O thou that dwellest amid lotuses? Thou art ever devoted to truth, O goddess, and thou art the first of deities. Who is that foremost of Brahmanas (who was my disciple)? I desire to know the truth." "'"'The goddess of Prosperity said, "Devoted to the vow of Brahmacharya, that Brahmana who was instructed by thee was Sakra. O puissant one, he robbed thee of that sovereignty which thou hadst over the three worlds. O righteous one, it was by thy behaviour that thou hadst reduced the three worlds to subjection. Knowing this, the chief of the celestials robbed thee of thy behaviour. Righteousness and Truth and Good deeds and Might and myself, O thou of great wisdom, all have our root verily in Behaviour."' "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, the goddess of Prosperity went away, as also all the rest, O Yudhishthira! Duryodhana, once more addressing his father, said these words: 'O delighter of the Kurus, I wish to know the truth about Behaviour. Tell me the means by which it may be acquired.' "'"Dhritarashtra said, 'Those means were indicated by the high-souled Prahlada while discoursing unto Indra. Listen, however, O ruler of men, as how in brief Behaviour may be acquired. Abstention from injury, by act, thought, and word, in respect of all creatures, compassion, and gift, constitute behaviour that is worthy of praise. That act or exertion by which others are not benefited, or that act in consequence of which one has to feel shame, should never be done. That act, on the other hand, should be done in consequence of which one may win praise in society. O best of the Kurus, I have now told thee in brief as to what Behaviour is. If O king, persons of wicked behaviour do ever win prosperity, they do not enjoy it long, O son, and are seen to be exterminated by the root.' "'"Dhritarashtra continued, 'Knowing all this truly, do thou, O son, be of good behaviour, if thou desirest to obtain prosperity greater than that of Yudhishthira.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Even this was what king Dhritarashtra said unto his son. Do thou act according to these instructions, O son of Kunti, and thou wilt then surely obtain their fruit."'" SECTION CXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast said, O grandsire, that behaviour is the first (of requisites for a man). Whence, however, does Hope arise? Tell me what it is. This great doubt has taken possession of my mind. There is no other person than thee, O subjugator of hostile towns, who can remove it. O grandsire, I had great hope in respect of Suyodhana that when a battle was about to ensue (in consequence of his own obstinacy), he would, O lord, do what was proper. In every man hope is great. When that hope is destroyed, great is the grief that succeeds, and which, without doubt, is equal to almost death itself. Fool that I am, Dhritarashtra's wicked-souled son, Duryodhana, destroyed the hope I had cherished. Behold, O king, the foolishness of my mind! I think that hope is vaster than a mountain with all its trees. Or, perhaps, it is vaster than the firmament itself. Or, perhaps, O king, it is really immeasurable. Hope, O chief of the Kurus, is exceedingly difficult of being understood and equally difficult of being subdued. Beholding this last attribute of Hope, I ask, what else is so unconquerable as this?" "'Bhishma said, "I shall narrate to thee, O Yudhishthira, in this connection, the discourse between Sumitra and Rishabha that took place in olden times. Listen to it. A royal sage of the Haihaya race, Sumitra by name, went out a hunting. He pursued a deer, having pierced it with a straight shaft. Possessed of great strength, the deer ran ahead, with the arrow sticking to him. The king was possessed of great strength, and accordingly pursued with great speed his prey. The animal, endued with fleetness, quickly cleared a low ground and then a level plain. The king, young, active and strong, and armed with bow and sword and cased in mail, still pursued it. Unaccompanied by anybody, in chasing the animal through the forest the king crossed many rivers and streams and lakes and copses. Endued with great speed, the animal, at its will, showing itself now and then to the king, ran on with great speed. Pierced with many shafts by the king, that denizen of wilderness, O monarch, as if in sport, repeatedly lessened the distance between itself and the pursuer. Repeatedly putting forth its speed and traversing one forest after another, it now and then showed itself to the king at a near point. At last that crusher of foes, taking a very superior shaft, sharp, terrible, and capable of penetrating into the very vitals, fixed it on his bowstring. The animal then, of huge proportions, as if laughing at the pursuer's efforts suddenly distanced him by reaching a point full four miles ahead of the range of the shaft. That arrow of blazing splendour accordingly fell on the ground. The deer entered a large forest but the king still continued the chase."'" SECTION CXXVI "'Bhishma said, "The king, having entered that large forest, came upon an asylum of ascetics. Fatigued with the toil he had undergone, he sat himself down for rest. Beholding him armed with bow, worn out with toil, and hungry, the ascetics approached him and honoured him in due form. Accepting the honours offered by the Rishis, the king enquired of them about the progress and advancement of their penances. Having duly answered the enquiries of the king, those Rishis endued with wealth of asceticism asked that tiger among rulers about the reason that led his steps to that retreat. And they said, 'Blessed be thou, in pursuit of what delightful object hast thou, O king, come to this asylum, walking on foot and armed with sword and bow and arrows? We wish to hear whence thou art coming, O giver of honours. Tell us also in what race thou art born and what thy name is.' Thus addressed, O bull among men, the king proceeded to duly give unto all those Brahmanas an account of himself, O Bharata, saying, 'I am born in the race of the Haihayas. By name I am Sumitra, and I am the son of Mitra. I chase herds of deer, slaying them in thousands with my arrows. Accompanied by a large force and my ministers and the ladies of my household, I came out on a hunting expedition. I pierced a deer with an arrow, but the animal with the shaft sticking to his body ran with great speed. In chasing it I have, without a set purpose, arrived at this forest and find myself in your presence, shorn of splendour, toil-worn, and with hope disappointed. What can be more pitiable than this, viz., that I have arrived at this asylum, spent with fatigue, shorn of the signs of royalty, and disappointed of my hopes. I am not at all sorry, ye ascetics, at my being now shorn of the signs of royalty or at my being now at a distance from my capital. I feel, however, a poignant grief in consequence of my hope having been disappointed. The prince of mountains, viz., Himavat, and that vast receptacle of waters, viz., the ocean, cannot, for its vastness, measure the extent of the firmament. Ye ascetics, similarly, I also cannot discern the limit of hope. Ye that are endued with wealth of penances are omniscient. There is nothing unknown to you. You are also highly blessed. I therefore solicit you for resolving my doubt. Hope as cherished by man, and the wide firmament, which of these two appears vaster to you? I desire to hear in detail what is so unconquerable to hope. If the topic be one upon which it is not improper for ye to discourse, then tell me all about it without delay. I do not wish, ye foremost of regenerate ones, to hear anything from you that may be a mystery improper to discourse upon. If again the discourse be injurious to your penances, I would not wish you to speak. If the question asked by me be a worthy topic of discourse, I would then wish to hear the cause in detail. Devoted to penances as ye are, do ye all instruct me on the subject.'"'" SECTION CXXVII "'Bhishma said, "Then that best of Rishis, viz., the regenerate Rishabha, sitting in the midst of all those Rishis, smiled a little and said these words: 'Formerly, O tiger among kings, while travelling among sacred places, I arrived, O lord, at the beautiful asylum of Nara and Narayana. There lies the delightful spot called Vadri, and there also is that lake in the firmament (whence the sacred Ganga takes her rise).[381] There the sage Aswasiras, O king, (always) reads the eternal Vedas. Having performed my ablutions in that lake and offered with due rites oblations of water unto the Pitris and the dogs, I entered the asylum. Within that retreat the Rishis Nara and Narayana always pass their time in true pleasure.[382] Not far from that spot I repaired to another retreat for taking up my abode. While seated there I beheld a very tall and emaciated Rishi, clad in rags and skins, approaching towards me. Possessed of the wealth of penances, he was named Tanu. Compared, O mighty-armed one, with other men, his height seemed to be eight times greater. As regards his leanness, O royal sage, I can say that I have never beheld its like. His body, O king, was as thin as one's little finger. His neck and arms and legs and hair were all of extra-ordinary aspect. His head was proportionate to his body, and his ears and eyes also were the same. His speech, O best of kings, and his movements were exceedingly feeble. Beholding that exceedingly emaciated Brahmana I became very cheerless and frightened. Saluting his feet, I stood before him with joined hands. Having informed him of my name and family, and having told him also the name of my father, O bull among men, I slowly sat myself down on a seat that was indicated by him. Then, O monarch, that foremost of virtuous men, viz., Tanu, began to discourse in the midst of the Rishis dwelling in that asylum upon topics connected with Righteousness and Profit. While engaged in discourse, a king, possessed of eyes like lotus petals and accompanied by his forces and the ladies of his household, came to that spot on a car drawn by fleet steeds. The name of that king was Viradyumna. Of handsome features, he was possessed of great fame. His son's name was Bhuridyumna. The child had been missing, and the sire, exceedingly cheerless, came there in course of his wanderings amid the forest in pursuit of the missing one. "I shall find my son here!" "I shall find my son here!" Dragged on by hope in this way, the king wandered through that forest in those days. Addressing the emaciated Rishi he said, "Without doubt that highly virtuous son of mine is exceedingly difficult to be traced by me. Alas he was my only child. He is lost and can nowhere be found! Though incapable of being found out, my hope, however, of finding him is very great. Filled with that hope (which is being constantly disappointed), I am verily on the point of death." Hearing these words of the king, that foremost of Munis, viz., the holy Tanu, remained for a short while with head hanging down and himself buried in contemplation. Beholding him buried in contemplation, the king became exceedingly cheerless. In great grief he began to say slowly and softly, "What, O celestial Rishi, is unconquerable and what is greater than hope? O holy one, tell me this if I may hear it without impropriety." "'"'The Muni said, "A holy and great Rishi had been insulted by thy son. He had done it through ill-luck, moved by his foolish understanding. The Rishi had asked thy son for a golden jar and vegetable barks. Thy son contemptuously refused to gratify the ascetic. Thus treated by thy son, the great sage became disappointed." Thus addressed, the king worshipped that ascetic who was worshipped by all the world. Of virtuous soul, Viradyumna sat there, spent with fatigue even as thou, O best of men, now art. The great Rishi, in return, offered the king according to the rites observed by the dwellers of the forests water to wash his feet and the usual ingredients that make up the Arghya. Then all the Rishis, O tiger among kings, sat there, surrounding that bull among men like the stars of the constellation of Ursa Major surrounding the Pole star. And they asked the unvanquished king as to the cause of his arrival at that asylum.'"'" SECTION CXXVIII "'"'The king said, "I am a king called by the name of Viradyumna. My fame has spread in all directions. My son Bhuridyumna hath been lost. It is in quest of him that I have come to this forest. Ye foremost of Brahmanas, that child was my only son and, ye sinless ones, he is of very tender years. He cannot, however, be found here. I am wandering everywhere for finding him out."' "'"Rishabha continued, 'After the king had said these words, the ascetic Tanu hung down his head. He remained perfectly silent, without uttering a single word in answer. In former days that Brahmana had not been much honoured by the king. In disappointment, O monarch, he had for that reason practised austere penances for a long time, resolving in his mind that he should never accept anything in gift from either kings or members of any other order. And he said to himself, "Hope agitates every man of foolish understanding. I shall drive away hope from my mind." Even such had been his determination. Viradyumna once more questioned that foremost of ascetics in these words: "'"'The king said, "What is the measure of the thinness of Hope? What on earth is exceedingly difficult of acquisition? Tell me this, O holy one, for thou art well conversant with morality and profit." "'"Rishabha continued, 'Himself recollecting all the past incidents (about his own disregard at the hands of the king) and calling them back to the recollection of the king also, that holy Brahmana of emaciated body addressed the king and said the following words: "'"'The sage said, "There is nothing, O king, that equals Hope in slenderness. I had solicited many kings and found that nothing is so difficult of acquisition as an image that Hope sets before the mind." "'"'The king said, "At thy words, O Brahmana, I understand what is slender and what is not so.[383] I understand also how difficult of acquisition are the images set by Hope before the mind. I regard these words of thine as utterances of Sruti. O thou of great wisdom, one doubt, however, has arisen in my mind. It behoveth thee, O sage, to explain it in detail unto me that ask thee. What is more slender than thy body? Tell me this, O holy one, if, of course, O best of sages, the topic be one which may be discoursed upon without impropriety." "'"'The emaciated sage said, "A contented applicant is exceedingly difficult to meet with. Perhaps, there is none such in the world. Something rarer still, O sire, is the person that never disregards an applicant. The hope that rests upon such persons as do not, after passing their promises, do good to others according to the best of their powers and according as the applicants deserve, is slenderer than even my body.[384] The hope that rests upon an ungrateful man, or upon one that is cruel, or one that is idle, or one that injures others, is slenderer than even my body.[384] The hope cherished by a sire that has but one son, of once more seeing that son after he has been lost or missed, is slenderer than even my body. The hope that old women entertain of bringing forth sons, O king, and that is cherished by rich men, is slenderer than even my body. The hope that springs up in the hearts of grown up maidens of marriage when they hear anybody only talk of it in their presence, is slenderer than even my body."[385] Hearing these words, O monarch, king Viradyumna, and the ladies of his household, prostrated themselves before that bull among Brahmanas and touched his feet with their bent heads. "'"'The king said, "I beg thy grace, O holy one! I wish to meet with my child. What thou hast said, O best of Brahmanas, is very true. There is no doubt of the truth of thy utterances."' "'"Rishabha continued, 'The holy Tanu, that foremost of virtuous persons, smiling, caused, by means of his learning and his penances the king's son to be brought to that spot. Having caused the prince to be brought thither, the sage rebuked the king (his father).[386] That foremost of virtuous persons then displayed himself to be the god of righteousness. Indeed, having displayed his own wonderful and celestial form, he entered an adjacent forest, with heart freed from wrath and the desire of revenge. I saw all this, O king, and heard the words I have said. Drive off thy hope, that is even slenderer (than any of those which the sage indicated).'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, O monarch, by the high-souled Rishabha, king Sumitra speedily cast off the hope that was in his heart and which was slenderer (than any of the kinds of hope indicated by the emaciated Rishi). Do thou also, O son of Kunti, hearing these words of mine, be calm and collected like Himavat. Overcome with distress,[387] thou hast questioned me and heard my answer. Having heard it, O monarch, it behoves thee to dispel these regrets of thine!"'" SECTION CXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Like one that drinks nectar I am never satiated with listening to thee as thou speakest. As a person possessing a knowledge of self is never satiated with meditation, even so I am never satiated with hearing thee. Do thou, therefore, O grandsire, discourse once more upon morality. I am never satiated with drinking the nectar of thy discourse upon morality." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Gotama and the illustrious Yama. Gotama owned a wide retreat on the Paripatra hills. Listen to me as to how many years he dwelt in that abode. For sixty thousand years that sage underwent ascetic austerities in that asylum. One day, the Regent of the world, Yama, O tiger among men, repaired to that great sage of cleansed soul while he was engaged in the severest austerities. Yama beheld the great ascetic Gotama of rigid penances. The regenerate sage understanding that it was Yama who had come, speedily saluted him and sat with joined hands in an attentive attitude (waiting for his commands). The royal Dharma, beholding that bull among Brahmanas, duly saluted him (in return) and addressing him asked what he was to do for him. "'"Gotama said, 'By doing what acts does one liberate one's self from the debt one owes to one's mother and father? How also does one succeed in winning regions of pure bliss that are so difficult of attainment?' "'"Yama said, 'Devoting one's self to the duty of truth, and practising purity and penances one should ceaselessly worship one's mother and father. One should also perform Horse-sacrifices with presents in profusion unto the Brahmanas. By such acts one wins many regions (of felicity) of wonderful aspect.'"'" SECTION CXXX "'Yudhishthira said, "What course of conduct should be adopted by a king shorn of friends, having many enemies, possessed of an exhausted treasury, and destitute of troops, O Bharata! What, indeed, should be his conduct when he is surrounded by wicked ministers, when his counsels are all divulged, when he does not see his way clearly before him, when he assails another kingdom, when he is engaged in grinding a hostile kingdom, and when though weak he is at war with a stronger ruler? What, indeed, should be the conduct of a king the affairs of whose kingdom are ill-regulated, and who disregards the requirements of place and time, who is unable, in consequence of his oppressions, to bring about peace and cause disunion among his foes? Should he seek the acquisition of wealth by evil means, or should he lay down his life without seeking wealth?" "'Bhishma said, "Conversant as thou art with duties, thou hast, O bull of Bharata's race, asked me a question relating to mystery (in connection with duties).[388] Without being questioned, O Yudhishthira, I could not venture to discourse upon this duly. Morality is very subtle. One understands it, O bull of Bharata's race, by the aid of the texts of scriptures. By remembering what one has heard and by practising good acts, some one in some place may become a righteous person. By acting with intelligence the king may or may not succeed in acquiring wealth.[389] Aided by thy own intelligence do thou think what answer should be given to thy question on this head. Listen, O Bharata, to the means, fraught with great merit, by which kings may conduct themselves (during seasons of distress). For the sake of true morality, however, I would not call those means righteous. If the treasury be filled by oppression, conduct like this brings the king to the verge of destruction. Even this is the conclusion of all intelligent men who have thought upon the subject. The kind of scriptures or science which one always studies gives him the kind of knowledge which it is capable of giving. Such Knowledge verily becomes agreeable to him. Ignorance leads to barrenness of invention in respect of means. Contrivance of means, again, through the aid of knowledge, becomes the source of great felicity. Without entertaining any scruples and any malice,[390] listen to these instructions. Through the decrease of the treasury, the king's forces are decreased. The king should, therefore, fill his treasury (by any means) like to one creating water in a wilderness which is without water. Agreeably to this code of quasi-morality practised by the ancients, the king should, when the time for it comes,[391] show compassion to his people. This is eternal duty. For men that are able and competent,[392] the duties are of one kind. In seasons of distress, however, one's duties are of a different kind. Without wealth a king may (by penances and the like) acquire religious merit. Life, however, is much more important than religious merit. (And as life cannot be supported without wealth, no such merit should be sought which stands in the way of the acquisition of wealth). A king that is weak, by acquiring only religious merit, never succeeds in obtaining just and proper means for sustenance; and since he cannot, by even his best exertions, acquire power by the aid of only religious merit, therefore the practices in seasons of distress are sometimes regarded as not inconsistent with morality. The learned, however, are of opinion that those practices lead to sinfulness. After the season of distress is over, what should the Kshatriya do? He should (at such a time) conduct himself in such a way that his merit may not be destroyed. He should also act in such a way that he may not have to succumb to his enemies.[393] Even these have been declared to be his duties. He should not sink in despondency. He should not (in times of distress) seek to rescue (from the peril of destruction) the merit of others or of himself. On the other hand, he should rescue his own self. This is the settled conclusion.[394] There is this Sruti, viz., that it is settled that Brahmanas, who are conversant with duties, should have proficiency in respect of duties. Similarly, as regards the Kshatriya, his proficiency should consist in exertion, since might of arms is his great possession. When a Kshatriya's means of support are gone, what should he not take excepting what belongs to ascetics and what is owned by Brahmanas? Even as a Brahmana in a season of distress may officiate at the sacrifice of a person for whom he should never officiate (at other and ordinary times) and eat forbidden food, so there is no doubt that a Kshatriya (in distress) may take wealth from every one except ascetics and Brahmanas. For one afflicted (by an enemy and seeking the means of escape) what can be an improper outlet? For a person immured (within a dungeon and seeking escape) what can be an improper path? When a person becomes afflicted, he escapes by even an improper outlet. For a Kshatriya that has, in consequence of the weakness of his treasury and army, become exceedingly humiliated, neither a life of mendicancy nor the profession of a Vaisya or that of a Sudra has been laid down. The profession ordained for a Kshatriya is the acquisition of wealth by battle and victory. He should never beg of a member of his own order. The person who supports himself at ordinary times by following the practices primarily laid for him, may in seasons of distress support himself by following the practices laid down in the alternative. In a season of distress, when ordinary practices cannot be followed, a Kshatriya may live by even unjust and improper means. The very Brahmanas, it is seen, do the same when their means of living are destroyed. When the Brahmanas (at such times) conduct themselves thus, what doubt is there in respect of Kshatriyas? This is, indeed, settled. Without sinking into despondency and yielding to destruction, a Kshatriya may (by force) take what he can from persons that are rich. Know that the Kshatriya is the protector and the destroyer of the people. Therefore, a Kshatriya in distress should take (by force) what he can, with a view to (ultimately) protect the people. No person in this world, O king, can support life without injuring other creatures. The very ascetic leading a solitary life in the depths of the forest is no exception. A Kshatriya should not live, relying upon destiny,[395] especially he, O chief of the Kurus, who is desirous of ruling. The king and the kingdom should always mutually protect each other. This is an eternal duty. As the king protects, by spending all his possessions, the kingdom when it sinks into distress, even so should the kingdom protect the king when he sinks into distress. The king even at the extremity of distress, should never give up[396] his treasury, his machinery for chastising the wicked, his army, his friends and allies and other necessary institutions and the chiefs existing in his kingdom. Men conversant with duty say that one must keep one's seeds, deducting them from one's very food. This is a truth cited from the treatise of Samvara well-known for his great powers of illusion. Fie on the life of that king whose kingdom languishes. Fie on the life of that man who from want of means goes to a foreign country for a living. The king's roots are his treasury and army. His army, again, has its roots in his treasury. His army is the root of all his religious merits. His religious merits, again are the root of his subjects. The treasury can never be filled without oppressing others. How then can the army be kept without oppression? The king, therefore, in seasons of distress, incurs no fault by oppressing his subjects for filling the treasury. For performing sacrifices many improper acts are done. For this reason a king incurs no fault by doing improper acts (when the object is to fill his treasury in a season of distress). For the sake of wealth practices other than those which are proper are followed (in seasons of distress). If (at such times) such improper practices be not adopted, evil is certain to result. All those institutions that are kept up for working destruction and misery exist for the sake of collecting wealth.[397] Guided by such considerations, an intelligent king should settle his course (at such times). As animals and other things are necessary for sacrifices, as sacrifices are for purifying the heart, and as animals, sacrifices, and purity of the heart are all for final emancipation, even so policy and chastisement exist for the treasury, the treasury exists for the army, and policy and treasury and army all the three exist for vanquishing foes and protecting or enlarging the kingdom. I shall here cite an example illustrating the true ways of morality. A large tree is cut down for making of it a sacrificial stake. In cutting it, other trees that stand in its way have also to be cut down. These also, in falling down, kill others standing on the spot. Even so they that stand in the way of making a well-filled treasury must have to be slain. I do not see how else success can be had. By wealth, both the worlds, viz., this and the other, can be had, as also Truth and religious merit. A person without wealth is more dead than alive. Wealth for the performance of sacrifices should be acquired by every means. The demerit that attaches to an act done in a season of distress is not equal to that which attaches to the same act if done at other times, O Bharata! The acquisition of wealth and its abandonment cannot both be possibly seen in the same person, O king! I do not see a rich man in the forest. With respect to every wealth that is seen in this world, every one contends with every one else, saying, 'This shall be mine,' 'This shall be mine!' This is nothing, O scorcher of foes, that is so meritorious for a king as the possession of a kingdom. It is sinful for a king to oppress his subjects with heavy impositions at ordinary times. In a season, however, of distress, it is quite different. Some acquire wealth by gifts and sacrifices; some who have a liking for penances acquire wealth by penances; some acquire it by the aid of their intelligence and cleverness. A person without wealth is said to be weak, while he that has wealth becomes powerful. A man of wealth may acquire everything. A king that has well-filled treasury succeeds in accomplishing everything. By his treasury a king may earn religious merit, gratify his desire for pleasure, obtain the next world, and this also. The treasury, however, should be filled by the aid of righteousness and never by unrighteous practices, such, that is, as pass for righteous in times of distress."'" SECTION CXXXI (Apaddharmanusasana Parva) "'Yudhishthira said, "What, besides this, should be done by a king that is weak and procrastinating, that does not engage in battle from anxiety for the lives of his friends, that is always under the influence of fear, and that cannot keep his counsels secret? What, indeed, should that king do whose cities and kingdom have been partitioned and appropriated by foes, who is divested of wealth, who is incapable (through such poverty) of honouring his friends and attaching them to himself, whose ministers are disunited or bought over by his enemies, who is obliged to stand in the face of foes, whose army has dwindled away, and whose heart has been agitated by some strong enemy?" "'Bhishma said, "If the invading enemy be of pure heart and if he be conversant with both morality and profit, a king of the kind you have indicated should, with no loss of time, make peace with the invader and bring about the restoration of those portions of the kingdom that have already been conquered. If, again, the invader be strong and sinful and seek to obtain victory by unrighteous means, the king should make peace with him, too, by abandoning a portion of his territories. If the invader be unwilling to make peace, the king should then abandon his very capital and all his possessions for escaping from danger. If he can save his life he may hope for similar acquisitions in future. What man conversant with morality is there that would sacrifice his own self, which is a more valuable possession, for encountering that danger from which escape can be had by the abandonment of his treasury and army? A king should protect the ladies of his household. If these fall into the hands of the enemy, he should not show any compassion for them (by incurring the risk of his own arrest in delivering them). As long as it is in his power, he should never surrender his own self to the enemy." "'Yudhishthira said, "When his own people are dissatisfied with him, when he is oppressed by invaders, when his treasury is exhausted, and when his counsels are divulged, what should the king then do?" "'Bhishma said, "A king, under such circumstances, should (if his enemy be righteous) seek to make peace with him. If the enemy be unrighteous, he should then put forth his valour. He should, by such means, seek to cause the foe to withdraw from his kingdom; or fighting bravely, he should lay down his life and ascend to heaven. A king can conquer the whole earth with the help of even a small force if that force be loyal, cheerful, and devoted to his good. If slain in battle, he is sure to ascend to heaven. If he succeeds in slaying (his enemies), he is sure to enjoy the earth. By laying down one's life in battle, one obtains the companionship of Indra himself."'" SECTION CXXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "When practices fraught with high morality and beneficial to the world, (viz., those that appertain to righteous rule) disappear, when all the means and resources for the support of life fall into the hands of robbers, when, indeed, such a calamitous time sets in, by what means should a Brahmana, O grandsire, who from affection is unable to desert his sons and grandsons, subsist?" "'Bhishma said, "When such a time sets in, the Brahmana should live by the aid of knowledge. Everything in this world is for them that are good. Nothing here is for them that are wicked. He who making himself an instrument of acquisition, takes wealth from the wicked and gives it unto them that are good, is said to be conversant with the morality of adversity. Desirous of maintaining his rule, the king, O monarch, without driving his subjects to indignation and rebellion, may take what is not freely given by the owner, saying, 'This is mine!' That wise man who, cleansed by the possession of knowledge and might and of righteous conduct at other times, acts censurably in such season, does not really deserve to be censured. They who always support themselves by putting forth their might never like any other method of living. They that are endued with might, O Yudhishthira, always live by the aid of prowess. The ordinary scriptures, that exist (for seasons of distress) without exceptions of any kind, should be practised by a king (at such times). A king, however, that is endued with intelligence, while following those scriptures, would do something more.[398] At such times, however, the king should not oppress Ritwijas, and Purohitas and preceptors and Brahmanas, all of whom are honoured and held in high esteem. By oppressing them, even at such times, he incurs reproach and sin. This that I tell thee is regarded as an authority in the world. Indeed, this is the eternal eye (by which practices in seasons of distress are to be viewed). One should be guided by this authority. By this is to be judged whether a king is to be called good or wicked. It is seen that many persons residing in villages and towns, actuated by jealousy and wrath, accuse one another. The king should never, at their words, honour or punish anybody. Slander should never be spoken. If spoken, it should never be heard. When slanderous converse goes on, one should close one's ears or leave the place outright. Slanderous converse is the characteristic of wicked men. It is an indication of depravity. They, on the other hand, O king, who speak of the virtues of others in assemblies of the good, are good men. As a pair of sweet-tempered bulls governable and well-broken and used to bear burthens, put their necks to the yoke and drag the cart willingly, even so should the king bear his burthens (in seasons of distress). Others say that a king (at such times) should conduct himself in such a way that he may succeed in gaining a large number of allies. Some regard ancient usage as the highest indication of righteousness. Others, viz., they that are in favour of the conduct pursued by Sankha, towards Likhita, do not hold this opinion. They do not advance such an opinion through either malice or covetousness[399]. Examples are seen of even great Rishis who have laid down that even preceptors, if addicted to evil practices, should be punished. But approvable authority there is none for such a proposition. The gods may be left to punish such men when they happen to be vile and guilty of wicked practices. The king who fills his treasury by having recourse to fraudulent devices, certainly falls away from righteousness. The code of morality which is honoured in every respect by those that are good and in affluent circumstances, and which is approved by every honest heart, should be followed. He is said to be conversant with duty who knows duty as depending on all the four foundations. It is difficult to find out the reasons on which duties stand even as it is difficult to find out the legs of the snake.[400] As a hunter of beasts discovers the track of a shaft-struck deer by observing spots of blood on the ground, even so should one seek to discover the reasons of duties. Thus should a man tread with humility along the path trod by the good. Such, indeed, was the conduct of the great royal sages of old, O Yudhishthira!"'" SECTION CXXXIII "'Bhishma said, "The king should, by drawing wealth from his own kingdom as also from the kingdoms of his foes, fill his treasury. From the treasury springs his religious merit, O son of Kunti, and it is in consequence of the treasury that the roots of his kingdom extend. For these reasons the treasury must be filled; and when filled it should be carefully protected (by putting a stop to all useless expenditure), and even sought to be increased. This is the eternal practice. The treasury cannot be filled by (acting with) purity and righteousness, nor by (acting with) heartless cruelty. It should be filled by adopting a middle course. How can a weak king have a treasury? How again can a king who has no treasury have strength? How can a weak man have kingdom? Whence again can one without a kingdom obtain prosperity? For a person of high rank, adversity is like death. For this reason the king should always increase his treasury, and army, and allies and friends. All men disregard a king with an empty treasury. Without being gratified with the little that such a king can give, his servants never express any alacrity in his business. In consequence of his affluence, the king succeeds in obtaining great honours. Indeed, affluence conceals his very sins, like robes concealing such parts of a feminine form as should not be exposed to the view. Those with whom the king has formerly quarrelled become filled with grief at the sight of his new affluence. Like dogs they once more take service under him, and though they wait only for an opportunity to slay him, he takes to them as if nothing has happened. How, O Bharata, can such a king obtain happiness? The king should always exert for acquiring greatness. He should never bend down in humility.[401] Exertion is manliness. He should rather break at an unfavourable opportunity than bend before any one. He should rather repair to the forest and live there with the wild animals. But he should not still live in the midst of ministers and officers who have like robbers broken through all restraints. Even the robbers of the forest may furnish a large number of soldiers for the accomplishment of the fiercest of deeds, O Bharata! If the king transgresses all wholesome restraints, all people become filled with alarm. The very robbers who know not what compassion is, dread such a king.[402] For this reason, the king should always establish rules and restraints for gladdening the hearts of his people. Rules in respect of even very trivial matters are hailed with delight by the people. There are men who think that this world is nothing and the future also is a myth. He that is an atheist of this type, though his heart is agitated by secret fears, should never be trusted. If the robbers of the forest, while observing other virtues, commit depredations in respect only of property, those depredations may be regarded as harmless. The lives of thousands of creatures are protected in consequence of robbers observing such restraints. Slaying an enemy who is flying away from battle, ravishment of wives, ingratitude, plundering the property of a Brahmana, depriving a person of the whole of his property, violation of maidens, continued occupation of villages and towns as their lawful lords, and adulterous congress with other people's wives--these are regarded as wicked acts among even robbers, and robbers should always abstain from them. It is again certain that those kings who strive (by making peace) to inspire confidence upon themselves in the hearts of the robbers, succeed, after watching all their ins and outs, in exterminating them. For this reason, in dealing with robbers, it is necessary that they should not be exterminated outright.[403] They should be sought to be brought under the king's sway. The king should never behave with cruelty towards them, thinking that he is more powerful than they. Those kings that do not exterminate them outright have no fear of extermination to themselves. They, however, that do exterminate them have always to live in fear in consequence of that act."'" SECTION CXXXIV "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, persons acquainted with the scriptures declare this text in respect of duty, viz., for a Kshatriya possessed of intelligence and knowledge, (the earning of) religious merit and (the acquisition of) wealth, constitute his obvious duties. He should not, by subtle discussions on duty and unseen consequences in respect of a future world, abstain from accomplishing those two duties. As it is useless to argue, upon seeing certain foot-prints on the ground, whether they are wolf's or not, even so is all discussion upon the nature of righteousness and the reverse. Nobody in this world ever sees the fruits of righteousness and unrighteousness. A Kshatriya, therefore, should seek the acquisition of power. He that is powerful is master of everything. Wealth leads to the possession of an army. He that is powerful[404] obtains intelligent advisers. He that is without wealth is truly fallen. A little (of anything in the world) is regarded as the dirty remnant of a feast.[405] If a strong man does even many bad acts, nobody, through fear, says or does anything (for censuring or checking him). If Righteousness and Power be associated with Truth, they can then rescue men from great perils. If, however, the two be compared, Power will appear to be superior to Righteousness. It is from Power that Righteousness springs. Righteousness rests upon Power as all immobile things upon the earth. As smoke depends upon the wind (for its motion), even so Righteousness depends upon Power. Righteousness which is the weaker of the two depends for its support upon a tree. Righteousness is dependent on them that are powerful even as pleasure is dependent upon them that are given to enjoyment. There is nothing that powerful men cannot do. Everything is pure with them that are powerful. A powerless man, by committing evil acts can never escape. Men feel alarmed at his conduct even as they are alarmed at the appearance of a wolf. One fallen away from a state of affluence leads a life of humiliation and sorrow. A life of humiliation and reproach is like death itself. The learned have said that when in consequence of one's sinful conduct one is cast off by friends and companions, one is pierced repeatedly by the wordy darts of others and one has to burn with grief on that account. Professors of scriptures have said with respect to the expiation of sinfulness that one should (if stained with sinfulness) study the three Vedas, wait upon and worship the Brahmanas, gratify all men by looks, words, and acts, cast off all meanness, marry in high families, proclaim the praises of others while confessing one's own worthlessness, recite mantras, perform the usual water-rites, assume a mildness of behaviour, and abstain from speaking much, and perform austere penances, seek the refuge of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas. Indeed, one who has committed many evil acts, should do all this, without being angry at the reproaches uttered by men. By conducting one's self in this way, one may soon become cleansed of all his sins and regain the regard of the world. Indeed, one wins great respect in this world and great rewards in the next, and enjoys diverse kinds of happiness here by following such conduct and by sharing his wealth with others."'" SECTION CXXXV "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of a robber who having in this would been observant of restraints did not meet with destruction in the next. There was a robber of the name of Kayavya, born of a Kshatriya father and a Nishada mother. Kayavya was a practiser of Kshatriya duties. Capable of smiting, possessed of intelligence and courage, conversant with the scriptures, destitute of cruelty, devoted to the Brahmanas, and worshipping his seniors and preceptors with reverence, he protected the ascetics in the observance of their practices. Though a robber, he still succeeded in winning felicity in heaven. Morning and evening he used to excite the wrath of the deer by chasing them. He was well conversant with all the practices of the Nishadas as also of all animals living in the forest. Well acquainted with the requirements of time and place, he roved over the mountains. Acquainted as he was with the habits of all animals, his arrows never missed their aim, and his weapons were strong. Alone, he could vanquish many hundreds of troops. He worshipped his old, blind, and deaf parents in the forest every day. With honey and flesh and fruits and roots and other kinds of excellent food, he hospitably entertained all persons deserving of honour and did them many good offices. He showed great respect for those Brahmanas that had retired from the world for taking up their residence in the woods. Killing the deer, he often took flesh to them. As regards those that were unwilling, from fear of others, to accept gifts from him because of the profession he followed, he used to go to their abodes before dawn and leave flesh at their doors.[406] One day many thousands of robbers, destitute of compassion in their conduct and regardless of all restraints, desired to elect him as their leader. "'"The robbers said, 'Thou art acquainted with the requirements of place and time. Thou hast wisdom and courage. Thy firmness also is great in everything thou undertakest. Be thou our foremost of leaders, respected by us all. We will do as thou wilt direct. Protect us duly, even as a father or mother.' "'"Kayavya said, 'Never kill ye a woman, or one that from fear keeps away from the fight, or one that is a child, or one that is an ascetic. One that abstains from fight should never be slain, nor should women be seized or brought away with force. None of you should ever slay a woman amongst all creatures. Let Brahmanas be always blessed and you should always fight for their good. Truth should never be sacrificed. The marriages of men should never be obstructed. No injury should be inflicted on those houses in which the deities, the Pitris, and guests are worshipped. Amongst creatures, Brahmanas deserve to be exempted by you in your plundering excursions. By giving away even your all, you should worship them. He who incurs the wrath of the Brahmanas, he for whose discomfiture they wish, fails to find a rescuer in the three worlds. He who speaks ill of the Brahmanas and wishes for their destruction, himself meets with destruction like darkness at sunrise. Residing here, ye shall acquire the fruits of your valour. Troops shall be sent against those that will refuse to give us our dues. The rod of chastisement is intended for the wicked. It is not intended for self-aggrandisement. They who oppress the god deserve death, it is said. They who seek to aggrandise their fortunes by afflicting kingdoms in unscrupulous ways, very soon come to be regarded as vermin in a dead body. Those robbers again that would conduct themselves by conforming to these restraints of the scriptures, would soon win salvation although leading a plundering life.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Those robbers, thus addressed, obeyed all the commands of Kayavya. By desisting from sin, they obtained great prosperity. By behaving himself in such a way by thus doing good to the honest and by thus restraining the robbers from bad practices, Kayavya won great success (in the next world). He who always thinks of this narrative of Kayavya will not have any fear from the denizens of the forest, in fact, from any earthly creature. Such a man will have no fear from any creature, O Bharata! He will have no fear from wicked men. If such a man goes to the forest, he will be able to live there with the security of a king."'" SECTION CXXXVI "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, viz., the method by which a king should fill his treasury, persons acquainted with the scriptures of olden days cite the following verses sung by Brahman himself. The wealth of persons who are given to the performance of sacrifices, as also the wealth dedicated to the deities, should never be taken. A Kshatriya should take the wealth of such persons as never perform religious rites and sacrifices as are on that account regarded to be equal to robbers. All the creatures that inhabit the earth and all the enjoyments that appertain to sovereignty, O Bharata, belong to the Kshatriyas. All the wealth of the earth belongs to the Kshatriya, and not to any person else. That wealth the Kshatriya should use for keeping up his army and for the performance of sacrifice. Tearing up such creepers and plants as are not of any use, men burn them for cooking such vegetables as serve for food.[407] Men conversant with duty have said that his wealth is useless who does not, with libations of clarified butter, feed the gods, the Pitris, and men. A virtuous ruler, O king, should take away such wealth. By that wealth a large number of good people can be gratified. He should not, however, hoard that wealth in his treasury. He who makes himself an instrument of acquisition and taking away wealth from the wicked gives them to those that are good is said to be conversant with the whole science of morality. A king should extend his conquests in the next world according to the measure of his power, and as gradually as vegetable products are seen to grow. As some ants are seen to grow from no adequate cause, even so sacrifice spring from no adequate cause.[408] As flies and gnats and ants are driven off from the bodies of kine and other domestic cattle (at the time of milking them), even so should persons who are averse to the performance of sacrifices should be similarly driven off from the kingdom. This is consistent with morality. As the dust that lies on the earth, if pounded between two stones, becomes finer and finer, even so questions of morality, the more they are reflected upon and discussed, become finer and finer."'" SECTION CXXXVII "'Bhishma said, "These two, viz., one that provides for the future, and one possessed of presence of mind, always enjoy happiness. The man of procrastination, however, is lost. In this connection, listen attentively to the following excellent story of a procrastinating person in the matter of settling his course of action. In a lake that was not very deep and which abounded with fishes, there lived three Sakula fishes that were friends and constant companions. Amongst those three one had much forethought and always liked to provide for what was coming. Another was possessed of great presence of mind. The third was procrastinating. One day certain fishermen coming to that lake began to bale out its waters to a lower ground through diverse outlets. Beholding the water of the lake gradually decreasing, the fish that had much foresight, addressing his two companions on that occasion of danger, said, 'A great danger is about to overtake all the aquatic creatures living in this lake. Let us speedily go to some other place before our path becomes obstructed. He that resists future evil by the aid of good policy, never incurs serious danger. Let my counsels prevail with you. Let us all leave this place.' That one amongst the three who was procrastinating then answered, 'It is well said. There is, however, no need of such haste. This is my deliberate opinion.' Then the other fish, who was noted for presence of mind, addressed his procrastinating companion and said, 'When the time for anything comes, I never fail to provide for it according to policy.' Hearing the answers of his two companions, he of great forethought and considerable intelligence immediately set out by a current and reached another deep lake. The fishermen, seeing that all the water had been baled out, shut in the fishes that remained, by diverse means. Then they began to agitate the little water that remained, and as they began to catch the fish, the procrastinating Sakula was caught with many others. When the fisherman began to tie to a long string the fishes they had caught, the Sakula who was noted for presence of mind thrust himself into the company of those that had been so tied and remained quietly among them, biting the string, for he thought that he should do it to give the appearance of being caught. The fishermen believed that all the fishes attached to the string had been caught. They then removed them to a place of deep water for washing them. Just at that time the Sakula noted for presence of mind, leaving the string, quickly escaped. That fish, however, who had been procrastinating, foolish and senseless and without intelligence as he was, and, therefore, unable to escape, met with death. "'"Thus every one meets with destruction, like the procrastinating fish, who from want of intelligence cannot divine the hour of danger. That man, again, who regarding himself clever does not seek his own good in proper time, incurs great danger like the Sakula who had presence of mind. Hence these two only, viz., he that has much forethought and he that has presence of mind, succeed in obtaining happiness. He, however, that is procrastinating meets with destruction. Diverse are the divisions of time, such as Kashtha, Kala, Muhurta, day, night, Lava, month, fortnight, the six seasons, Kalpa, year. The divisions of the earth are called place. Time cannot be seen. As regards the success of any object or purpose, it is achieved or not achieved according to the manner in which the mind is set to think of it. These two, viz., the person of forethought and the person of presence of mind, have been declared by the Rishis to be the foremost of men in all treatises on morality and profit and in those dealing with emancipation. One, however, that does everything after reflection and scrutiny, one that avails oneself of proper means for the accomplishment of one's objects, always succeeds in achieving much. Those again that act with due regard to time and place succeed in winning results better than the mere man of foresight and the man of presence of mind."'" SECTION CXXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O bull of Bharata's race, said that that intelligence which provides against the future, as well as that which can meet present emergencies, is everywhere superior, while procrastination brings about destruction. I desire, O grandsire, to hear of that superior intelligence aided by which a king, conversant with the scriptures and well versed with morality and profit, may not be stupefied even when surrounded by many foes. I ask thee this, O chief of Kuru's race! It behoveth thee to discourse to me on this. I desire to hear everything, comfortable to what has been laid down in the scriptures, about the manner in which a king should conduct himself when he is assailed by many foes. When a king falls into distress, a large number of foes, provoked by his past acts, range themselves against him and seek to vanquish him. How may a king, weak and alone, succeed in holding up his head when he is challenged on all sides by many powerful kings leagued together? How does a king at such times make friends and foes? How should he, O bull of Bharata's race, behave at such a time towards both friends and foes? When those that have indications of friends really become his foes, what should the king then do if he is to obtain happiness? With whom should he make war and with whom should he make peace? Even if he be strong, how should he behave in the midst of foes? O scorcher of foes, this I regard to be the highest of all questions connected with the discharge of kingly duties. There are few men for listening to the answer of this question and none to answer it save Santanu's son, Bhishma, firmly wedded to truth and having all his senses under control. O thou that art highly blessed reflect upon it and discourse to me on it!" "'Bhishma said, "O Yudhishthira, this question is certainly worthy of thee. Its answer is fraught with great happiness. Listen to me, O son, as I declare to thee, O Bharata, all the duties generally known that should be practised in seasons of distress. A foe becomes a friend and a friend also becomes a foe. The course of human actions, through the combination of circumstances, becomes very uncertain. As regards, therefore, what should be done and what should not, it is necessary that paying heed to the requirements of time and place, one should either trust one's foes or make war. One should, even exerting one's self to one's best, make friends with men of intelligence and knowledge that desire one's welfare. One should make peace with even one's foes, when, O Bharata, one's life cannot otherwise be saved. That foolish man who never makes peace with foes, never succeeds in winning any gain or acquiring any of those fruits for which others endeavour. He again who makes peace with foes and quarrels with even friends after a full consideration of circumstances, succeeds in obtaining great fruits. In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between a cat and a mouse at the foot of a banian." "'Bhishma continued, "There was a large banian in the midst of an extensive forest. Covered with many kinds of creepers, it was the resort of diverse kinds of birds. It had a large trunk from which numerous branches extended in all directions. Delightful to look at, the shade it afforded was very refreshing. It stood in the midst of the forest, and animals of diverse species lived on it. A mouse of great wisdom, named Palita, lived at the foot of that tree, having made a hole there with a hundred outlets. On the branches of the tree there lived a cat, of the name of Lomasa, in great happiness, daily devouring a large number of birds. Some time after, a Chandala came into the forest and built a hut for himself. Every evening after sunset he spread his traps. Indeed, spreading his nets made of leathern strings he went back to his hut, and happily passing the night in sleep, returned to the spot at the dawn of day. Diverse kinds of animals fell into his traps every night. And it so happened that one day the cat, in a moment of heedlessness, was caught in the snare. O thou of great wisdom, when his foe the cat who was at all times an enemy of the mouse species was thus caught in the net, the mouse Palita came out of his hole and began to rove about fearlessly. While trustfully roving through the forest in search of food, the mouse after a little while saw the meat (that the Chandala had spread there as lure). Getting upon the trap, the little animal began to eat the flesh. Laughing mentally, he even got upon his enemy entangled helplessly in the net. Intent on eating the flesh, he did not mark his own danger, for as he suddenly cast his eyes he saw a terrible foe of his arrived at that spot. That foe was none else than a restless mongoose of coppery eyes, of the name of Harita. Living in underground holes, its body resembled the flower of a reed. Allured to that spot by the scent of the mouse, the animal came there with great speed for devouring his prey. And he stood on his haunches, with head upraised, licking the corners of his mouth with his tongue. The mouse beheld at the same time another foe living in the trees, then sitting on the branch of the banian. It was a night-prowling owl of the name of Chandraka of sharp beaks. Having become an object of sight with both the mongoose and the owl, the mouse, in great alarm, began to think in this strain: 'At such a season of great danger, when death itself is staring me in the face, when there is fear on every side, how should one act that wishes for one's good?' Encompassed on all sides by danger, seeing fear in every direction, the mouse, filled with alarm for his safety, made a high resolution. 'Warding off even innumerable dangers by hundreds of means, one should always save one's life. Danger, at the present moment, encompasses me on every side. If I were to descend from this trap on the ground, without adequate precautions, the mongoose will surely seize and devour me. If I remain on this trap, the owl will surely seize me. If, again, that cat succeeds in disentangling himself from the net, he also is certain to devour me. It is not proper, however, that a person of our intelligence should lose his wits. I shall, therefore, strive my best to save my life, aided by proper means and intelligence. A person possessed of intelligence and wisdom and conversant with the science of policy never sinks, however great and terrible the danger that threatens him. At present, however, I do not behold any other refuge than this cat. He is an enemy. But he is in distress. The service that I can do him is very great. Sought to be made a prey by three foes, how should I now act for saving my life? I should now seek the protection of one of those foes, viz., the cat. Taking the aid of the science of policy, let me counsel the cat for his good, so that I may, with my intelligence, escape from all the three. The cat is my great foe, but the distress into which he has fallen is very great. Let me try whether I can succeed in making this foolish creature understand his own interests. Having fallen into such distress, he may make peace with me. A person when afflicted by a stronger one should make peace with even an enemy. Professors of the science of policy say that even this should be the conduct of one who having fallen into distress seeks the safety of his life. It is better to have a learned person for an enemy than a fool for a friend. As regards myself, my life now rests entirely in the hands of my enemy the cat. I shall now address the cat on the subject of his own liberation. Perhaps, at this moment, it would not be wrong to take the cat for an intelligent and learned foe.' Even thus did that mouse, surrounded by foes, pursue his reflections. Having reflected in this strain, the mouse, conversant with the science of Profit and well acquainted with occasions when war should be declared and peace made, gently addressed the cat, saying, 'I address thee in friendship, O cat! Art thou alive? I wish thee to live! I desire the good of us both. O amiable one, thou hast no cause for fear. Thou shalt live in happiness. I shall rescue thee, if, indeed, thou dost not slay me. There is an excellent expedient in this case, which suggests itself to me, and by which you may obtain your escape and I may obtain great benefit. By reflecting earnestly I have hit upon that expedient for thy sake and for my sake, for it will benefit both of us. There are the mongoose and the owl, both waiting with evil intent. Only so long, O cat, as they do not attack me, is my life safe. There that wretched owl with restless glances and horrid cries is eyeing me from the branch of that tree. I am exceedingly frightened by it. Friendship, as regards the good, is seven-paced.[409] Possessed of wisdom as thou art, thou art my friend. I shall act towards thee as a friend. Thou needst have no fear now. Without my help, O cat, thou wilt not succeed in tearing the net. I, however, shall cut the net for serving thee, if thou abstain from killing me. Thou hast lived on this tree and I have lived at its foot. Both of us have dwelt here for many long years. All this is known to thee. He upon whom nobody places his trust, and he who never trusts another, are never applauded by the wise. Both of them are unhappy. For this reason, let our love for each other increase, and let there be union amongst us two. Men of wisdom never applaud the endeavour to do an act when its opportunity has passed away. Know that this is the proper time for such an understanding amongst us. I wish that thou shouldst live, and thou also wishest that I should live. A man crosses a deep and large river by a piece of wood. It is seen that the man takes the piece of wood to the other side, and the piece of wood also takes the man to the other side. Like this, our compact, also will bring happiness to both of us. I will rescue thee, and thou also wilt rescue me.' Having said these words that were beneficial to both of them, that were fraught with reason and on that account highly acceptable, the mouse Palita waited in expectation of an answer. "'"Hearing these well-chosen words, fraught with reason and highly acceptable, that the mouse said, the mouse's foe possessed of judgment and forethought, viz., the cat spoke in reply. Endued with great intelligence, and possessed of eloquence, the cat, reflecting upon his own state, praised the words of the speaker and honoured him by gentle words in return. Possessed of sharp foreteeth and having eyes that resembled the stones called lapis lazuli, the cat called Lomasa, gently eyeing the mouse, answered as follows: 'I am delighted with thee, O amiable one! Blessed be thou that wishest me to live! Do that, without hesitation, which thou thinkest to be of beneficial consequences. I am certainly in great distress. Thou art, if possible, in greater distress still. Let there be a compact between us without delay. I will do that which is opportune and necessary for the accomplishment of our business, O puissant one! If thou rescuest me, thy service will go for nothing. I place myself in thy hands. I am devoted to thee. I shall wait upon and serve thee like a disciple. I seek thy protection and shall always obey thy behests.' Thus addressed, the mouse Palita, addressing in return the cat who was completely under his control, said these words of grave import and high wisdom: 'Thou hast spoken most magnanimously. It could scarcely be unexpected from one like thee. Listen to me as I disclose the expedient I have hit upon for benefiting both of us. I will crouch myself beneath thy body. I am exceedingly frightened at the mongoose. Do thou save me. Kill me not. I am competent to rescue thee. Protect me also from the owl, for that wretch too wishes to seize me for his prey. I shall cut the noose that entangles thee. I swear by Truth, O friend!' Hearing these judicious words fraught with reason, Lomasa, filled with delight, cast his eyes upon Palita and applauded him with exclamations of welcome. Having applauded Palita, the cat, disposed to friendliness, reflected for a moment, and gladly said without losing any time, 'Come quickly to me! Blessed be thou, thou art, indeed, a friend dear to me as life. O thou of great wisdom, through thy grace I have almost got back my life. Whatever it is in my power to do for thee now, tell me and I shall do it. Let there be peace between us, O friend! Liberated from this danger, I shall, with all my friends and relatives, do all that may be agreeable and beneficial to thee. O amiable one, freed from this distress, I shall certainly seek to gladden thee, and worship and honour thee on every occasion in return for thy services. A person by doing even abundant services in return never becomes equal to the person that did him good in the first instance. The former does those services for the sake of services received. The latter, however, should be held to have acted without any such motive.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The mouse, having thus made the cat understand his own interests, trustfully crouched beneath his enemy's body. Possessed of learning, and thus assured by the cat, the mouse trustfully laid himself thus under the breast of the cat as if it were the lap of his father or mother. Beholding him thus ensconced within the body of the cat, the mongoose and the owl both became hopeless of seizing their prey. Indeed, seeing that close intimacy between the mouse and the cat, both Harita and Chandraka became alarmed and filled with wonder. Both of them had strength and intelligence. Clever in seizing their prey, though near, the mongoose and the owl felt unable to wean the mouse and the cat from that compact. Indeed, beholding the cat and the mouse make that covenant for accomplishing their mutual ends, the mongoose and the owl both left that spot and went away to their respective abodes. After this, the mouse Palita, conversant with the requirements of time and place, began, as he lay under the body of the cat, to cut strings of the noose slowly, waiting for the proper time to finish his work. Distressed by the strings that entangled him, the cat became impatient upon seeing the mouse slowly cutting away the noose. Beholding the mouse employed so slowly in the work, the cat wishing to expedite him in the task, said: 'How is it, O amiable one, that thou dost not proceed with haste in thy work? Dost thou disregard me now, having thyself succeeded in thy object? O slayer of foes, do thou cut these strings quickly. The hunter will soon come here.' Thus addressed by the cat who had become impatient, the mouse possessed of intelligence said these beneficial words fraught with his own good unto the cat who did not seem to possess much wisdom: 'Wait in silence, O amiable one! Expedition is not necessary. Drive all thy fears. We know the requirements of time. We are not wasting time. When an act is begun at an improper time, it never becomes profitable when accomplished. That act, on the other hand, which is begun at the proper time, always produces splendid fruits. If thou be freed at an improper time, I shall have to stand in great fear of thee. Therefore, do thou wait for the proper time. Do not be impatient, O friend! When I shall see the hunter approach towards this spot armed with weapons, I shall cut the strings at that moment of fear to both of us. Freed then, thou wilt ascend the tree. At that time thou wilt not think of anything else save the safety of thy life. And when thou, O Lomasa, wilt fly away in fear, I shall enter my hole and thou wilt get upon the tree.' Thus addressed by the mouse in words that were beneficial to him, the cat, possessed of intelligence and eloquence, and impatient of saving his life, replied unto the mouse in the following words. Indeed, the cat, who had quickly and properly done his own part of the covenant, addressing the mouse who was not expeditious in discharging his part, said, 'I rescued thee from a great danger with considerable promptness. Alas! honest persons never do the business of their friends in this way. Filled with delight while doing it, they do it otherwise. Thou shouldst do what is for my good with greater expedition. O thou of great wisdom, do thou exert a little so that good may be done to both of us. If, on the other hand, remembering our former hostility thou art only suffering the time to slip away, know, O wicked wight, that the consequence of this act of thine will surely be to lessen the duration of thy own life![410] If I have ever, before this, unconsciously done thee any wrong, thou shouldst not bear it in remembrance. I beg thy forgiveness. Be gratified with me.' After the cat had said these words, the mouse, possessed of intelligence and wisdom and knowledge of the scriptures, said these excellent words unto him: 'I have, O cat, heard what thou hast said in furtherance of thy own object. Listen, however, to me as I tell thee what is consistent with my own objects. That friendship in which there is fear and which cannot be kept up without fear, should be maintained with great caution like the hand (of the snake-charmer) from the snake's fangs. The person that does not protect himself after having made a covenant with a stronger individual, finds that covenant to be productive of injury instead of benefit. Nobody is anybody's friend; nobody is anybody's well-wisher; persons become friends or foes only from motives of interest. Interest enlists interest even as tame elephants catch wild individuals of their species. After, again, an act has been accomplished, the doer is scarcely regarded. For this reason, all acts should be so done that something may remain to be done. When I shall set thee free, thou wilt, afflicted by the fear of the hunter, fly away for thy life without ever thinking of seizing me. Behold, all the strings of this net have been cut by me. Only one remains to be cut. I will cut that also with haste. Be comforted, O Lomasa!' While the mouse and the cat were thus talking with each other, both in serious danger, the night gradually wore away. A great fear, however, penetrated the heart of the cat. When at last morning came, the Chandala, whose name was Parigha, appeared on the scene. His visage was frightful. His hair was black and tawny. His hips were very large and his aspect was very fierce. Of a large mouth that extended from ear to ear, and exceedingly filthy, his ears were very long. Armed with weapons and accompanied by a pack of dogs, the grim-looking man appeared on the scene. Beholding the individual who resembled a messenger of Yama, the cat became filled with fear. Penetrated with fright, he addressed Palita and said, 'What shalt thou do now?' The mouse very quickly cut the remaining string that held fast the cat. Freed from the noose, the cat ran with speed and got upon the banian. Palita also, freed from that situation of danger and from the presence of a terrible foe, quickly fled and entered his hole. Lomasa meanwhile had climbed the high tree. The hunter, seeing everything, took up his net. His hopes frustrated, he also quickly left that spot. Indeed, O bull of Bharata's race, the Chandala returned to his abode. Liberated from that great peril, and having obtained back his life which is so very valuable, the cat from the branches of that tree addressed the mouse Palita then staying within the hole, and said, 'Without having conversed with me, thou hast suddenly run away. I hope thou dost not suspect me of any evil intent. I am certainly grateful and thou hast done me a great service. Having inspired me with trustfulness and having given me my life, why dost thou not approach me at a time when friends should enjoy the sweetness of friendship? Having made friends, he that forgets them afterwards, is regarded a wicked person and never succeeds in obtaining friends at times of danger and need. I have been, O friend, honoured and served by thee to the best of thy power. It behoveth thee to enjoy the company of my poor self who has become thy friend. Like disciples worshipping their preceptor, all the friends I have, all my relatives and kinsmen, will honour and worship thee. I myself too shall worship thee with all thy friends and kinsmen. What grateful person is there that will not worship the giver of his life? Be thou the lord of both my body and home. Be thou the disposer of all my wealth and possessions. Be thou my honoured counsellor and do thou rule me like a father. I swear by my life that thou hast no fear from us. In intelligence thou art Usanas himself. By the power of thy understanding thou hast conquered us. Possessed of the strength of policy, thou hast given us our life.' Addressed in such soothing words by the cat, the mouse, conversant with all that is productive of the highest good, replied in these sweet words that were beneficial to himself: 'I have heard, O Lomasa, all that thou hast said. Listen now as I say what appears to me. Friends should be well examined. Foes also should be well studied. In this world, a task like this is regarded by even the learned as a difficult one depending upon acute intelligence. Friends assume the guise of foes, and foes assume the guise of friends. When compacts of friendship are formed, it is difficult for the parties to understand whether the other parties are really moved by lust and wrath. There is no such thing as a foe. There is no such thing in existence as a friend. It is force of circumstances that creates friends and foes. He who regards his own interests ensured as long as another person lives and thinks them endangered when that other person will cease to live, takes that other person for a friend and considers him so as long as those interests of his are not clashed against. There is no condition that deserves permanently the name either of friendship or hostility. Both friends and foes arise from considerations of interest and gain. Friendship becomes changed into enmity in the course of time. A foe also becomes a friend. Self-interest is very powerful. He who reposes blind trust on friends and always behaves with mistrust towards foes without paying any regard to considerations of policy, finds his life to be unsafe. He who, disregarding all considerations of policy, sets his heart upon an affectionate union with either friends or foes, comes to be regarded as a person whose understanding has been unhinged. One should not repose trust upon a person undeserving of trust, nor should one trust too much a person deserving of trust. The danger that arises from blind reposing of confidence is such that it cuts the very roots (of the person that reposes such confidence). The father, the mother, the son, the maternal uncle, the sister's son, other relatives and kinsmen, are all guided by considerations of interest and profit. Father and mother may be seen to discard the dear son if fallen.[411] People take care of their own selves. Behold the efficacy of self-interest. O thou that art possessed of great wisdom, his escape is very difficult who immediately after he is freed from danger seeks the means of his enemy's happiness. Thou camest down from the tree-top to this very spot. Thou couldst not, from levity of understanding, ascertain that a net had been spread here. A person, possessed of levity of understanding, fails to protect his own self. How can he protect others? Such a person, without doubt, ruins all his acts. Thou tellest me in sweet words that I am very dear to thee. Hear me, however, O friend, the reasons that exist on my side. One becomes dear from an adequate cause. One becomes a foe from an adequate cause. This whole world of creatures is moved by the desire of gain (in some form or other). One never becomes dear to another (without cause). The friendship between two uterine brothers, the love between husband and wife, depends upon interest. I do not know any kind of affection between any persons that does not rest upon some motive of self-interest. If, as is sometimes seen, uterine brothers or husband and wife having quarrelled reunite together from a natural affection, such a thing is not to be seen in persons unconnected with one another. One becomes dear for one's liberality. Another becomes dear for his sweet words. A third becomes so in consequence of his religious acts. Generally, a person becomes dear for the purpose he serves. The affection between us arose from a sufficient cause. That cause exists no longer. On the other hand, from adequate reason, that affection between us has come to an end. What is that reason, I ask, for which I have become so dear to thee, besides thy desire of making me thy prey? Thou shouldst know that I am not forgetful of this. Time spoils reasons. Thou seekest thy own interests. Others, however, possessed of wisdom, understand their own interests. The world rests upon the example of the wise. Thou shouldst not address such words to a person possessed of learning and competent to understand his own interests. Thou art powerful. The reason of this affection that thou showest for me now is ill-timed. Guided, however, by my own interests, I myself am firm in peace and war that are themselves very unstable. The circumstances under which peace is to be made or war declared are changed as quickly as the clouds change their form. This very day thou wert my foe. This very day, again, thou wert my friend. This very day thou hast once more become my enemy. Behold the levity of the considerations that move living creatures. There was friendship between us as long as there was reason for its existence. That reason, dependant upon time, has passed away. Without it, that friendship also has passed away. Thou art by nature my foe. From circumstances thou becomest my friend. That state of things has passed away. The old state of enmity that is natural has come back. Thoroughly conversant as I am with the dictates of policy that have been thus laid down, tell me, why I should enter today, for thy sake, the net that is spread for me. Through thy power I was freed from a great danger. Through my power thou hast been freed from a similar danger. Each of us has served the other. There is no need of uniting ourselves again in friendly intercourse. O amiable one, the object thou hadst hath been accomplished. The object I had has also been accomplished. Thou hast now no use for me except to make me your meal. I am thy food. Thou art the eater. I am weak. Thou art strong. There cannot be a friendly union between us when we are situated so unequally. I understand thy wisdom. Having been rescued from the net, thou applaudest me so that thou mayst succeed in easily making a meal of me. Thou wert entangled in the net for the sake of food. Thou hast been freed from it. Thou feelest now the pangs of hunger. Having recourse to that wisdom which arises from a study of the scriptures, thou seekest verily to eat me up today. I know that thou art hungry. I know that this is thy hour for taking food. Thou art seeking for thy prey, with thy eyes directed towards me. Thou hast sons and wives. Thou seekest still friendly union with me and wishest to treat me with affection and do me services. O friend, I am incapable of acceding to this proposal. Seeing me with thee, why will not thy dear spouse and thy loving children cheerfully eat me up? I shall not, therefore, unite with thee in friendship. The reason no longer exists for such a union. If, indeed, thou dost not forget my good offices, think of what will be beneficial to me and be comfortable. What person is there possessed of any wisdom that will place himself under the power of a foe that is not distinguished for righteousness, that is in pangs of hunger, and that is on the look-out for a prey? Be happy then, I will presently leave thee. I am filled with alarm even if I behold thee from a distance. I shall not mingle with thee, cease in thy attempts, O Lomasa! If thou thinkest that I have done thee a service, follow then the dictates of friendship when I may happen to rove trustfully or heedlessly. Even that will be gratitude in thee. A residence near a person possessed of strength and power is never applauded, even if the danger that existed be regarded to have passed away. I should always stand in fear of one more powerful than myself. If thou dost not seek thy own interests (of the kind indicated), tell me then what is there that I should do for thee. I shall certainly give thee everything except my life. For protecting one's own self one should give up one's very children, and kingdom, and jewels, and wealth. One should sacrifice one's all for protecting one's own self. If a person lives he can recover all the affluence that he may have to give unto foes for protecting his life. It is not desirable to give up life like one's wealth. Indeed, one's own self should always be protected by, as I have already said, giving up one's wives and wealth. Persons who are mindful of protecting their own selves and who do all their acts after a proper consideration and survey, never incur danger as the consequence of their acts. They that are weak always know him for a foe who is possessed of greater strength. Their understanding, firm in the truths of the scriptures, never loses its steadiness.' "'"Thus rebuked soundly by the mouse Palita, the cat, blushing with shame, addressed the mouse and said the following words. "'"Lomasa said, 'Truly I swear by thee that to injure a friend is in my estimation very censurable. I know thy wisdom. I know also that thou art devoted to my good. Guided by the science of Profit, thou said that there is cause for a breach between thee and me. It doth not behove thee, however, O good friend, to take me for what I am not. I cherish a great friendship for thee in consequence of thy having granted me my life. I am, again, acquainted with duties. I am an appreciator of other people's merits. I am very grateful for services received. I am devoted to the service of friends. I am, again, especially devoted to thee. For these reasons, O good friend, it behoveth thee to reunite thyself with me. If I am commanded by thee, I can, with all my kinsmen and relatives, lay down my very life. They that are possessed of learning and wisdom see ample reason for placing their trust in persons of such mental disposition as ourselves. O thou that art acquainted with the truths of morality, it behoveth thee not to cherish any suspicion in respect of me.' Thus addressed by the cat, the mouse reflecting a little, said these words of grave import unto the former, 'Thou art exceedingly good. I have heard all that thou hast said and am glad to hear thee. For all that, however, I cannot trust thee. It is impossible for thee, by such eulogies or by gifts of great wealth, to induce me to unite with thee again. I tell thee, O friend, that they who are possessed of wisdom never place themselves, when there is not sufficient reason, under the power of a foe. A weak person having made a compact with a stronger one when both are threatened by foes, should (when that common danger passes away) conduct himself heedfully and by considerations of policy. Having gained his object, the weaker of the two parties should not again repose confidence on the stronger. One should never trust a person who does not deserve to be trusted. Nor should one repose blind confidence upon a person deserving of trust. One should always endeavour to inspire others with confidence in himself. One should not, however, himself repose confidence in foes. For these reasons one should, under all circumstances, protect his own self. One's possessions and children and everything are so long valuable as one is alive. In brief, the highest truth of all treatises on policy is mistrust. For this reason, mistrust of all is productive of the greatest good. However weak people may be, if they mistrust their foes, the latter, even if strong, never succeed in getting them under power. O cat, one like myself should always guard one's life from persons like thee. Do thou also protect thy own life from the Chandala whose rage has been excited.'[412] While the mouse thus spake, the cat, frightened at the mention of the hunter, hastily leaving the branch of the tree, ran away with great speed. Having thus displayed his power of understanding, the mouse Palita also, conversant with the truths of scripture and possessed of wisdom, entered another hole." "'Bhishma continued, "Even thus the mouse Palita, possessed of wisdom, though weak and alone, succeeded in baffling many powerful foes. One possessed of intelligence and learning should make peace with a powerful foe. The mouse and the cat owed their escape to their reliance upon each other's services. I have thus pointed out to thee the course of Kshatriya duties at great length. Listen now to me in brief. When two persons who were once engaged in hostilities make peace with each other, it is certain that each of them has it in his heart to over-reach the other. In such a case he that is possessed of wisdom succeeds by the power of his understanding in over-reaching the other. He, on the other hand, who is destitute of wisdom suffers himself, in consequence of his heedlessness, to be over-reached by the wise. It is necessary, therefore, that, in fear one should seem to be fearless, and while really mistrusting others one should seem to be trustful. One who acts with such heedfulness never trips, or tripping, is never ruined. When the time comes for it, one should make peace with an enemy; and when the time comes, one should wage war with even a friend. Even thus should one conduct oneself, O king, as they have said that are conversant with the considerations of peace (and war). Knowing this, O monarch, and bearing the truths of scripture in mind, one should, with all his senses about one and without heedfulness, act like a person in fear before the cause of fear actually presents itself. One should, before the cause of fear has actually come, act like a person in fear, and make peace with foes. Such fear and heedfulness lead to keenness of understanding. If one acts like a man in fear before the cause of fear is at hand, one is never filled with fear when that cause is actually present. From the fear, however, of a person who always acts with fearlessness, very great fear is seen to arise.[413] 'Never cherish fear'--such a counsel should never be given to any one. The person that cherishes fear moved by a consciousness of his weakness, always seeks the counsel of wise and experienced men. For these reasons, one should, when in fear, seem to be fearless, and when mistrusting (others) should seem to be trustful. One should not, in view of even the gravest acts, behave towards others with falsehood. Thus have I recited to thee, O Yudhishthira, the old story (of the mouse and the cat). Having listened to it, do thou act duly in the midst of thy friends and kinsmen. Deriving from that story a high understanding, and learning the difference between friend and foe and the proper time for war and peace, thou wilt discover means of escape when overwhelmed with danger. Making peace, at a time of common danger, with one that is powerful, thou shouldst act with proper consideration in the matter of uniting thyself with the foe (when the common danger has passed away). Indeed, having gained thy object, thou shouldst not trust the foe again. This path of policy is consistent with the aggregate of three (viz., Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure), O king! Guided by this Sruti, do thou win prosperity by once more protecting thy subjects. O son of Pandu, always seek the companionship of Brahmanas in all thy acts. Brahmans constitute the great source of benefit both in this world and the next. They are teachers of duty and morality. They are always grateful, O puissant one! If worshipped, they are sure to do thee good. Therefore, O king, thou shouldst always worship them. Thou wilt then, O king, duly obtain kingdom, great good, fame, achievement's and progeny in their proper order. With eyes directed to this history of peace and war between the mouse and the cat, this history couched in excellent words and capable of sharpening the intelligence, a king should always conduct himself in the midst of his foes."'" SECTION CXXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast laid it down, O mighty one, that no trust should be placed upon foes. But how would the king maintain himself if he were not to trust anybody? From trust, O king, thou hast said, great danger arises to kings. But how, O monarch, can a king, without trusting others, conquer his foes? Kindly remove this doubt of mine. My mind has become confused, O grandsire, at what I have heard thee say on the subject of mistrust." "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, to what happened at the abode of Brahmadatta, viz., the conversation between Pujani and king Brahmadatta. There was a bird named Pujani who lived for a long time with king Brahmadatta in the inner apartments of his palace at Kampilya. Like the bird Jivajivaka, Pujani could mimic the cries of all animals. Though a bird by birth, she had great knowledge and was conversant with every truth. While living there, she brought forth an offspring of great splendour. At the very same time the king also got by his queen a son. Pujani, who was grateful for the shelter of the king's roof, used every day to go to the shores of the ocean and bring a couple of fruits for the nourishment of her own young one and the infant prince. One of those fruits she gave to her own child and the other she gave to the prince. The fruits she brought were sweet as nectar, and capable of increasing strength and energy. Every day she brought them and everyday she disposed of them in the same way. The infant prince derived great strength from the fruit of Pujani's giving that he ate. One day the infant prince, while borne on the arms of his nurse, saw the little offspring of Pujani. Getting down from the nurse's arms, the child ran towards the bird, and moved by childish impulse, began to play with it, relishing the sport highly. At length, raising the bird which was of the same age with himself in his hands, the prince pressed out its young life and then came back to his nurse. The dam, O king, who had been out in her search after the accustomed fruits, returning to the palace, beheld her young one lying on the ground, killed by the prince. Beholding her son deprived of life, Pujani, with tears gushing down her cheeks, and heart burning with grief, wept bitterly and said, 'Alas, nobody should live with a Kshatriya or make friends with him or take delight in any intercourse with him. When they have any object to serve, they behave with courtesy. When that object has been served they cast off the instrument. The Kshatriyas do evil unto all. They should never be trusted. Even after doing an injury they always seek to soothe and assure the injured for nothing. I shall certainly take due vengeance, for this act of hostility, upon this cruel and ungrateful betrayer of confidence. He has been guilty of a triple sin in taking the life of one that was born on the same day with him and that was being reared with him in the same place, that used to eat with him, and that was dependent on him for protection.' Having said these words unto herself, Pujani, with her talons, pierced the eyes of the prince, and deriving some comfort from that act of vengeance, once more said, 'A sinful act, perpetrated deliberately, assails the doer without any loss of time. They, on the other hand, who avenge themselves of an injury, never lose their merit by such conduct. If the consequence of a sinful act be not seen in the perpetrator himself, they would certainly be seen, O king, in his sons or son's sons or daughter's sons.' Brahmadatta, beholding his son blinded by Pujani and regarding the act to have been a proper vengeance for what his son had done, said these words unto Pujani. "'"Brahmadatta said, 'An injury was done by us to thee. Thou hast avenged it by doing an injury in return. The account has been squared. Do not leave thy present abode. On the other hand, continue to dwell here, O Pujani.' "'"Pujani said, 'If a person having once injured another continues to reside with that other, they that are possessed of learning never applaud his conduct. Under such circumstances it is always better for the injurer to leave his old place. One should never place one's trust upon the soothing assurances received from an injured party. The fool that trusts such assurances soon meets with destruction. Animosity is not quickly cooled. The very sons and grandsons of persons that have injured each other meet with destruction (in consequence of the quarrel descending like an inheritance). In consequence again of such destruction of their offspring, they lose the next world also. Amongst men that have injured one another, mistrust would be productive of happiness. One that has betrayed confidence should never be trusted in the least. One who is not deserving of trust should not be trusted; nor should too much trust be placed upon a person deserving of trust. The danger that arises from blind confidence brings about a destruction that is complete. One should seek to inspire others with confidence in one's self. One, however, should never repose confidence on others. The father and the mother only are the foremost of friends. The wife is merely a vessel for drawing the seeds. The son is only one's seed. The brother is a foe. The friend or companion requires to have his palms oiled if he is to remain so. One's own self it is that enjoys or suffers one's happiness or misery. Amongst persons that have injured one another, it is not advisable there should be (real) peace. The reasons no longer exist for which I lived here. The mind of a person who has once injured another becomes naturally filled with mistrust, if he sees the injured person worshipping him with gifts and honours. Such conduct, especially when displayed by those that are strong, always fills the weak with alarm. A person possessed of intelligence should leave that place where he first meets with honour in order to meet only with dishonour and injury next. In spite of any subsequent honour that he might obtain from his enemy, he should behave in this way. I have dwelt in thy abode for a long time, all along honoured by thee. A cause of enmity, however, has at last arisen. I should, therefore, leave this place without any hesitation.' "'"Brahmadatta said, 'One who does an injury in return for an injury received is never regarded as offending. Indeed, the avenger squares his account by such conduct. Therefore, O Pujani, continue to reside here without leaving this place.' "'"Pujani said, 'No friendship can once more be cemented between a person that has injured and him that has inflicted an injury in return. The hearts of neither can forget what has happened.' "'"Brahmadatta said, 'It is necessary that a union should take place between an injurer and the avenger of that injury. Mutual animosity, upon such a union, has been seen to cool. No fresh injury also has followed in such cases.' "'"Pujani said, 'Animosity (springing from mutual injuries) can never die. The person injured should never trust his foes, thinking, "O, I have been soothed with assurances of goodwill." In this world, men frequently meet with destruction in consequence of (misplaced) confidence. For this reason it is necessary that we should no longer meet each other. They who cannot be reduced to subjection by the application of even force and sharp weapons, can be conquered by (insincere) conciliation like (wild) elephants through a (tame) she-elephant.' "'"Brahmadatta said, 'From the fact of two persons residing together, even if one inflicts upon the other deadly injury, an affection arises naturally between them, as also mutual trust as in the case, of the Chandala and the dog. Amongst persons that have injured one another, co-residence blunts the keenness of animosity. Indeed, that animosity does not last long, but disappears quickly like water poured upon the leaf of a lotus.' "'"Pujani said, 'Hostility springs from five causes. Persons possessed of learning know it. Those five causes are woman, land, harsh words, natural incompatibility, and injury.[414] When the person with whom hostility occurs happens to be a man of liberality, he should never be slain, particularly by a Kshatriya, openly or by covert means. In such a case, the man's fault should be properly weighed.[415] When hostility has arisen with even a friend, no further confidence should be reposed upon him. Feelings of animosity lie hid like fire in wood. Like the Aurvya fire within the waters of the ocean, the fire of animosity can never be extinguished by gifts of wealth, by display of prowess, by conciliation, or by scriptural learning. The fire of animosity, once ignited, the result of an injury once inflicted, is never extinguished, O king, without consuming outright one of the parties. One, having injured a person, should never trust him again as one's friend, even though one might have (after the infliction of the injury) worshipped him with wealth and honours. The fact of the injury inflicted fills the injurer with fear. I never injured thee. Thou also didst never do me an injury. For this reason I dwelt in thy abode. All that is changed, and at present I cannot trust thee.' "'"Brahmadatta said, 'It is Time that does every act. Acts are of diverse kinds, and all of them proceed from Time. Who, therefore, injures whom?[416] Birth and Death happen in the same way. Creatures act (i.e., take birth and live) in consequence of Time, and it is in consequence also of Time that they cease to live. Some are seen to die at once. Some die one at a time. Some are seen to live for long periods. Like fire consuming the fuel, Time consumes all creatures. O blessed lady, I am, therefore, not the cause of your sorrow, nor art thou the cause of mine. It is Time that always ordains the weal and woe of embodied creatures. Do thou then continue to dwell here according to thy pleasure, with affection for me and without fear of any injury from me. What thou hast done has been forgiven by me. Do thou also forgive me, O Pujani!' "'"Pujani said, 'If Time, according to thee, be the cause of all acts, then of course nobody can cherish feelings of animosity towards anybody on earth. I ask, however, why friends and kinsmen, seek to avenge themselves the slain. Why also did the gods and the Asuras in days of yore smite each other in battle? If it is Time that causes weal and woe and birth and death, why do physicians then seek to administer medicines to the sick? If it is Time that is moulding everything, what need is there of medicines? Why do people, deprived of their senses by grief, indulge in such delirious rhapsodies? If Time, according to thee, be the cause of acts, how can religious merit be acquired by persons performing religious acts? Thy son killed my child. I have injured him for that. I have by that act, O king, become liable to be slain by thee. Moved by grief for my son, I have done this injury to thy son. Listen now to the reason why I have become liable to be killed by thee. Men wish for birds either to kill them for food or to keep them in cages for sport. There is no third reason besides such slaughter or immurement for which men would seek individuals of our species. Birds, again, from fear of being either killed or immured by men seek safety in flight. Persons conversant with the Vedas have said that death and immurement are both painful. Life is dear unto all. All creatures are made miserable by grief and pain. All creatures wish for happiness. Misery arises from various sources. Decrepitude, O Brahmadatta, is misery. The loss of wealth is misery. The adjacence of anything disagreeable or evil is misery. Separation or dissociation from friends and agreeable objects is misery. Misery arises from death and immurement. Misery arises from causes connected with women and from other natural causes. The misery that arises from the death of children alters and afflicts all creatures very greatly. Some foolish persons say that there is no misery in others' misery.[417] Only he who has not felt any misery himself can say so in the midst of men. He, however, that has felt sorrow and misery, would never venture to say so. One that has felt the pangs of every kind of misery feels the misery of others as one's own. What I have done to thee, O king, and what thou has done to me, cannot be washed away by even a hundred years. After what we have done to each other, there cannot be a reconciliation. As often as thou wilt happen to think of thy son, thy animosity towards me will become fresh. If a person after avenging oneself of an injury, desires to make peace with the injured, the parties cannot be properly reunited even like the fragments of an earthen vessel. Men conversant with scriptures have laid it down that trust never produces happiness. Usanas himself sang two verses unto Prahlada in days of old. He who trusts the words, true or false, of a foe, meets with destruction like a seeker of honey, in a pit covered with dry grass.[418] Animosities are seen to survive the very death of enemies, for persons would speak of the previous quarrels of their deceased sires before their surviving children. Kings extinguish animosities by having recourse to conciliation but, when the opportunity comes, break their foes into pieces like earthen jars full of water dashed upon stone. If the king does injury to any one, he should never trust him again. By trusting a person who has been injured, one has to suffer great misery.' "'"Brahmadatta said, 'No man can obtain the fruition of any object by withholding his trust (from others). By cherishing fear one is always obliged to live as a dead person.' "'"Pujani said, 'He whose feet have become sore, certainly meets with a fall if he seeks to move, move he may howsoever cautiously. A man who has got sore eyes, by opening them against the wind, finds them exceedingly pained by the wind. He who, without knowing his own strength, sets foot on a wicked path and persists in walking along it, soon loses his very life as the consequence. The man who, destitute of exertion, tills his land, disregarding the season of rain, never succeeds in obtaining a harvest. He who takes every day food that is nutritive, be it bitter or astringent or palatable or sweet, enjoys a long life. He, on the other hand, who disregards wholesome food and takes that which is injurious without an eye to consequences, soon meets with death. Destiny and exertion exist, depending upon each other. They that are of high souls achieve good and great feats, while eunuchs only pay court to Destiny. Be it harsh or mild, an act that is beneficial should be done. The unfortunate man of inaction, however, is always overwhelmed by all sorts of calamity. Therefore, abandoning everything else, one should put forth his energy. Indeed, disregarding everything, men should do what is productive of good to themselves. Knowledge, courage, cleverness, strength, and patience are said to be one's natural friends. They that are possessed of wisdom pass their lives in this world with the aid of these five. Houses, precious metals, land, wife, and friends,--these are said by the learned to be secondary sources of good. A man may obtain them everywhere. A person possessed of wisdom may be delighted everywhere. Such a man shines everywhere. He never inspires anybody with fear. If sought to be frightened, he never yields to fear himself. The wealth, however little, that is possessed at any time by an intelligent man is certain to increase. Such a man does every act with cleverness. In consequence of self-restraint, he succeeds in winning great fame. Home-keeping men of little understanding have to put up with termagant wives that eat up their flesh like the progeny of a crab eating up their dam. There are men who through loss of understanding become very cheerless at the prospect of leaving home. They say unto themselves,--These are our friends! This is our country! Alas, how shall we leave these?--One should certainly leave the country of one's birth, if it be afflicted by plague or famine. One should live in one's own country, respected by all, or repair to a foreign country for living there. I shall, for this reason, repair to some other region. I do not venture to live any longer in this place, for I have done a great wrong to thy child. O king, one should from a distance abandon a bad wife, a bad son, a bad king, a bad friend, a bad alliance, and a bad country. One should not place any trust on a bad son. What joy can one have in a bad wife? There cannot be any happiness in a bad kingdom. In a bad country one cannot hope to obtain a livelihood. There can be no lasting companionship with a bad friend whose attachment is very uncertain. In a bad alliance, when there is no necessity for it, there is disgrace. She indeed, is a wife who speaks only what is agreeable. He is a son who makes the sire happy. He is a friend in whom one can trust. That indeed, is one's country where one earns one's living. He is a king of strict rule who does not oppress, who cherishes the poor and in whose territories there is no fear. Wife, country, friends, son, kinsmen, and relatives, all these one can have if the king happens to be possessed of accomplishments and virtuous eyes. If the king happens to be sinful, his subjects, inconsequence of his oppressions, meet with destruction. The king is the root of one's triple aggregate (i.e., Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure). He should protect his subjects with heedfulness. Taking from his subjects a sixth share of their wealth, he should protect them all. That king who does not protect his subjects is truly a thief. That king who, after giving assurances of protection, does not, from rapacity, fulfil them,--that ruler of sinful soul,--takes upon himself the sins of all his subjects and ultimately sinks into hell. That king, on the other hand, who, having given assurances of protection, fulfils them, comes to be regarded as a universal benefactor in consequence of protecting all his subjects. The lord of all creatures, viz., Manu, has said that the king has seven attributes: he is mother, father, preceptor, protector, fire, Vaisravana and Yama. The king by behaving with compassion towards his people is called their father. The subject that behaves falsely towards him takes birth in his next life as an animal or a bird. By doing good to them and by cherishing the poor, the king becomes a mother unto his people. By scorching the wicked he comes to be regarded as fire, and by restraining the sinful he comes to be called Yama. By making gifts of wealth unto those that are dear to him, the king comes to be regarded as Kuvera, the grantor of wishes. By giving instruction in morality and virtue, he becomes a preceptor, and by exercising the duty of protection he becomes the protector. That king who delights the people of his cities and provinces by means of his accomplishments, is never divested of his kingdom in consequence of such observance of duty. That king who knows how to honour his subjects never suffers misery either here or hereafter. That king whose subjects are always filled with anxiety or overburdened with taxes, and overwhelmed by evils of every kind, meets with defeat at the hands of his enemies. That king, on the other hand, whose subjects grow like a large lotus in a lake succeeds in obtaining every reward here and at last meets with honour in heaven. Hostility with a person that is powerful is, O king, never applauded. That king who has incurred the hostility of one more powerful than himself, loses both kingdom and happiness.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The bird, having said these words, O monarch, unto king Brahmadatta, took the king's leave and proceeded to the region she chose. I have thus recited to thee, O foremost of kings, the discourse between Brahmadatta and Pujani. What else dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION CXL "'Yudhishthira said, "When both righteousness and men, O Bharata, decay in consequence of the gradual lapse of Yuga, and when the world becomes afflicted by robbers, how, O Grandsire, should a king then behave?"[419] "'Bhishma said, "I shall tell thee, O Bharata, the policy the king should pursue at such distressful times. I shall tell thee how he should bear himself at such a time, casting off compassion. In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between Bharadwaja and king Satrunjaya. There was a king named Satrunjaya among the Sauviras. He was a great car-warrior. Repairing to Bharadwaja, he asked the Rishi about the truths of the science of Profit,--saying,--How can an unacquired object be acquired? How again, when acquired, can it be increased? How also, when increased, can it be protected? And how, when protected, should it be used?--Thus questioned about the truths of the science of Profit, the regenerate Rishi said the following words fraught with excellent reason unto that ruler for explaining those truths. "'"The Rishi said, 'The king should always stay with the rod of chastisement uplifted in his hand. He should always display his prowess. Himself without laches, he should mark the laches of his foes. Indeed, his eyes should ever be used for that purpose. At the sight of a king who has the rod of chastisement ever uplifted in his hand, every one is struck with fear. For this reason, the king should rule all creatures with the rod of chastisement. Men possessed of learning and knowledge of truth applaud Chastisement. Hence, of the four requisites of rule, viz., Conciliation, Gift, Disunion, and Chastisement, Chastisement is said to be the foremost. When the foundation of that which serves for a refuge is cut away, all the refugees perish. When the roots of a tree are cut away, how would the branches live? A king possessed of wisdom should cut away the very roots of his foe. He should then win over and bring under his sway the allies and partisans of that foe. When calamities overtake the king, he should without losing time, counsel wisely, display his prowess properly, fight with ability, and even retreat with wisdom. In speech only should the king exhibit his humility, but at heart he should be sharp as a razor. He should cast off lust and wrath, and speak sweetly and mildly. When the occasion comes for intercourse with an enemy, a king possessed of foresight should make peace, without reposing blind trust on him. When the business is over, he should quickly turn away from the new ally. One should conciliate a foe with sweet assurances as if he were a friend. One, however, should always stand in fear of that foe as living in a room within which there is a snake. He whose understanding is to be dominated by thee (with the aid of thine intellect) should be comforted by assurances given in the past. He who is of wicked understanding should be assured by promises of future good. The person, however, that is possessed of wisdom, should be assured by present services. The person who is desirous of achieving prosperity should join hands, swear, use sweet words, worship by bending down his head, and shed tears.[420] One should bear one's foe on one's shoulders as long as time is unfavourable. When however, the opportunity has come, one should break him into fragments like an earthen jar on a stone. It is better, O monarch that a king should blaze up for a moment like charcoal of ebony-wood than that he should smoulder and smoke like chaff for many years. A man who has many purposes to serve should not scruple to deal with even an ungrateful person. If successful, one can enjoy happiness. If unsuccessful, one loses esteem. Therefore in accomplishing the acts of such persons, one should, without doing them completely, always keep something unfinished. A king should do what is for his good, imitating a cuckoo, a boar, the mountains of Meru, an empty chamber, an actor, and a devoted friend.[421] The king should frequently, with heedful application, repair to the houses of his foes, and even if calamities befall them, ask them about their good. They that are idle never win affluence; nor they that are destitute of manliness and exertion; nor they that are stained by vanity; nor they that fear unpopularity; nor they that are always procrastinating. The king should act in such a way that his foe may not succeed in detecting his laches. He should, however, himself mark the laches of his foes. He should imitate the tortoise which conceals its limbs. Indeed, he should always conceal his own holes. He should think of all matters connected with finance like a crane.[422] He should put forth his prowess like a lion. He should lie in wait like a wolf and fall upon and pierce his foes like a shaft. Drink, dice, women, hunting, and music,--these he should enjoy judiciously. Addiction to these is productive of evil. He should make bows with bamboos, etc.; he should sleep cautiously like the deer; he should be blind when it is necessary that he should be so, or he should even be deaf when it is necessary to be deaf. The king possessed of wisdom should put forth his prowess, regardful of time and place. If these are not favourable, prowess becomes futile. Marking timeliness and untimeliness reflecting upon his own strength and weakness, and improving his own strength by comparing it with that of the enemy, the king should address himself to action. That king who does not crush a foe reduced to subjection by military force, provides for his own death like the crab when she conceives. A tree with beautiful blossoms may be lacking in strength. A tree carrying fruits may be difficult of climbing; and sometimes trees with unripe fruits look like trees with ripe fruits. Seeing all these facts a king should not allow himself to be depressed. If he conducts himself in such a way, then he would succeed in upholding himself against all foes. The king should first strengthen the hopes (of those that approach him as suitors). He should then put obstacles in the way of the fulfilment of those hopes. He should say that those obstacles are merely due to occasion. He should next represent that those occasions are really the results of grave causes. As long as the cause of fear does not actually come, the king should make all his arrangements like a person inspired with fear. When, however, the cause of fear comes upon him, he should smite fearlessly. No man can reap good without incurring danger. If, again, he succeeds in preserving his life amid danger, he is sure to earn great benefits.[423] A king should ascertain all future dangers; when they are present, he should conquer them; and lest they grow again, he should, even after conquering them, think them to be unconquered. The abandonment of present happiness and the pursuit of that which is future, is never the policy of a person possessed of intelligence. The king who having made peace with a foe sleeps happily in truthfulness is like a man who sleeping on the top of a tree awakes after a fall. When one falls into distress, one should raise one's self by all means in one's power, mild or stern; and after such rise, when competent, one should practise righteousness. The king should always honour the foes of his foes. He should take his own spies as agents employed by his foes. The king should see that his own spies are not recognised by his foe. He should make spies of atheists and ascetics and send them to the territories of his enemies. Sinful thieves, who offend against the laws of righteousness and who are thorns in the side of every person, enter gardens and places of amusement and houses set up for giving drinking water to thirsty travellers and public inns and drinking spots and houses of ill fame and holy places and public assemblies. These should be recognised and arrested and put down. The king should not trust the person that does not deserve to be trusted nor should he trust too much the person that is deserving of trust. Danger springs from trust. Trust should never be placed without previous examination. Having by plausible reasons inspired confidence in the enemy, the king should smite him when he makes a false step. The king should fear him, from whom there is no fear; he should also always fear them that should be feared. Fear that arises from an unfeared one may lead to total extermination. By attention (to the acquisition of religious merit), by taciturnity, by the reddish garb of ascetics, and wearing matted locks and skins, one should inspire confidence in one's foe, and then (when the opportunity comes) one should jump upon him like the wolf. A king desirous of prosperity should not scruple to slay son or brother or father or friend, if any of these seek to thwart his objects. The very preceptor, if he happens to be arrogant, ignorant of what should be done and what should not, and a treader of unrighteous paths, deserves to be restrained by chastisement. Even as certain insects of sharp stings cut off all flowers and fruits of the trees on which they sit, the king should, after having inspired confidence in his foe by honours and salutations and gifts, turn against him and shear him of everything. Without piercing the very vitals of others, without accomplishing many stern deeds, without slaughtering living creatures after the manner of the fisherman, one cannot acquire great prosperity. There is no separate species of creatures called foes or friends. Persons become friends or foes according to the force of circumstances. The king should never allow his foe to escape even if the foe should indulge piteous lamentations. He should never be moved by these; on the other hand, it is his duty to destroy the person that has done him an injury. A king desirous of prosperity should take care to attach to himself as many men as he can, and to do them good. In behaving towards his subjects he should always be free from malice. He should also, with great care, punish and check the wicked and disaffected. When he intends to take wealth, he should say what is agreeable. Having taken wealth, he should say similar things. Having struck off one's head with his sword, he should grieve and shed tears. A king desirous of prosperity should draw others unto himself by means of sweet words, honours, and gifts. Even thus should he bind men unto his service. The king should never engage in fruitless disputes. He should never cross a river with the aid only of his two arms. To eat cow-horns is fruitless and never invigorating. By, eating them one's teeth are broken while the taste is not gratified. The triple aggregate has three disadvantages with three inseparable adjuncts. Carefully considering those adjuncts, the disadvantages should be avoided.[424] The unpaid balance of a debt, the unquenched remnant of a fire, and the unslain remnant of foes, repeatedly grow and increase. Therefore, all those should be completely extinguished and exterminated. Debt, which always grows, is certain to remain unless wholly extinguished. The same is the cause with defeated foes and neglected maladies. These always produce great feats. (One should, therefore, always eradicate them). Every act should be done thoroughly. One should be always heedful. Such a minute thing as a thorn, if extracted badly, leads to obstinate gangrene. By slaughtering its population, by tearing up its roads and otherwise injuring them, and by burning and pulling down its houses, a king should destroy a hostile kingdom. A kings should be far-sighted like the vulture, motionless like a crane, vigilant like a dog, valiant like a lion, fearful like a crow, and penetrate the territories of his foes like a snake with ease and without anxiety. A king should win over a hero by joining his palms, a coward by inspiring him with fear, and a covetous man by gifts of wealth while with an equal he should wage war. He should be mindful of producing disunion among the leaders of sects and of conciliating those that are dear to him. He should protect his ministers from disunion and destructions. If the king becomes mild, the people disregard him. If he becomes stern, the people feel it as an affliction. The rule is that he should be stern when the occasion requires sternness, and mild when the occasion requires mildness. By mildness should the mild be cut. By mildness one may destroy that which is fierce. There is nothing that mildness cannot effect. For this reason, mildness is said to be sharper than fierceness. That king who becomes mild when the occasion requires mildness and who becomes stern when sternness is required, succeeds in accomplishing all his objects, and in putting down his foes. Having incurred the animosity of a person possessed of knowledge and wisdom, one should not draw comfort from the conviction that one is at a distance (from one's foe). Far-reaching are the arms of an intelligent man by which he injures when injured. That should not be sought to be crossed which is really uncrossable. That should not be snatched from the foe which the foe would be able to recover. One should not seek to dig at all if by digging one would not succeed in getting at the root of the thing for which one digs. One should never strike him whose head one would not cut off. A king should not always act in this way. This course of conduct that I have laid down should be pursued only in seasons of distress. Inspired by the motive of doing thee good I have said this for instructing thee as to how thou shouldst bear thyself when assailed by foes.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The ruler of the kingdom of the Sauviras, hearing these words spoken by that Brahmana inspired with the desire of doing him good, obeyed those instructions cheerfully and obtained with his kinsmen and friends blazing prosperity."'" SECTION CXLI "'Yudhishthira said, "When the high righteousness suffers decay and is transgressed by all, when unrighteousness becomes righteousness, and righteousness assumes the form of its reverse, when all wholesome restraints disappear, and all truths in respect of righteousness are disturbed and confounded, when people are oppressed by kings and robbers, when men of all the four modes of life become stupefied in respect of their duties, and all acts lose their merit, when men see causes of fear on every direction in consequence of lust and covetousness and folly, when all creatures cease to trust one another, when they slay one another by deceitful means and deceive one another in their mutual dealings, when houses are burnt down throughout the country, when the Brahmanas become exceedingly afflicted, when the clouds do not pour a drop of rain, when every one's hand is turned against every one's neighbour, when all the necessaries of life fall under the power of robbers, when, indeed, such a season of terrible distress sets in, by what means should a Brahmana live who is unwilling to cast off compassion and his children? How, indeed, should a Brahmana maintain himself at such a time? Tell me this, O grandsire! How also should the king live at such a time when sinfulness overtakes the world? How, O scorcher of foes, should the king live so that he might not fall away from both righteousness and profit?" "'Bhishma said, "O mighty-armed one, the peace and prosperity of subjects,[425] sufficiency and seasonableness of rain, disease, death and other fears, are all dependent on the king.[426] I have no doubt also in this. O bull of Bharata's race, that Krita, Treta, Dwapara, and Kali, as regards their setting in, are all dependent on the king's conduct. When such a season of misery as has been described by thee sets in, the righteous should support life by the aid of judgment. In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between Viswamitra and the Chandala in a hamlet inhabited by Chandalas. Towards the end of Treta and the beginning of Dwapara, a frightful drought occurred, extending over twelve years, in consequence of what the gods had ordained. At that time which was the end of Treta and the commencement of Dwapara, when the period came for many creatures superannuated by age to lay down their lives, the thousand-eyed deity of heaven poured no rain. The planet Vrihaspati began to move in a retrograde course, and Soma abandoning his own orbit, receded towards the south. Not even could a dew-drop be seen, what need then be said of clouds gathering together? The rivers all shrank into narrow streamlets. Everywhere lakes and wells and springs disappeared and lost their beauty in consequence of that order of things which the gods brought about. Water having become scarce, the places set up by charity for its distribution became desolate.[427] The Brahmanas abstained from sacrifices and recitation of the Vedas. They no longer uttered Vashats and performed other propitiatory rites. Agriculture and keep of cattle were given up. Markets and shops were abandoned. Stakes for tethering sacrificial animals disappeared. People no longer collected diverse kinds of articles for sacrifices. All festivals and amusements perished. Everywhere heaps of bones were visible and every place resounded with the shrill cries and yells of fierce creatures.[428] The cities and towns of the earth became empty of inhabitants. Villages and hamlets were burnt down. Some afflicted by robbers, some by weapons, and some by bad kings, and in fear of one another, began to fly away. Temples and places of worship became desolate. They that were aged were forcibly turned out of their houses. Kine and goats and sheep and buffaloes fought (for food) and perished in large numbers. The Brahmanas began to die on all sides. Protection was at an end. Herbs and plants were dried up. The earth became shorn of all her beauty and exceedingly awful like the trees in a crematorium. In that period of terror, when righteousness was nowhere, O Yudhishthira, men in hunger lost their senses and began to eat one another. The very Rishis, giving up their vows and abandoning their fires and deities, and deserting their retreats in woods, began to wander hither and thither (in search of food). The holy and great Rishi Viswamitra, possessed of great intelligence, wandered homeless and afflicted with hunger. Leaving his wife and son in some place of shelter, the Rishi wandered, fireless[429] and homeless, and regardless of food clean and unclean. One day he came upon a hamlet, in the midst of a forest, inhabited by cruel hunters addicted to the slaughter of living creatures. The little hamlet abounded with broken jars and pots made of earth. Dog-skins were spread here and there. Bones and skulls, gathered in heaps, of boars and asses, lay in different places. Cloths stripped from the dead lay here and there, and the huts were adorned with garlands of used up flowers.[430] Many of the habitations again were filled with sloughs cast off by snakes. The place resounded with the loud crowing of cocks and hens and the dissonant bray of asses. Here and there the inhabitants disputed with one another, uttering harsh words in shrill voices. Here and there were temples of gods bearing devices of owls and other birds. Resounding with the tinkle of iron bells, the hamlet abounded with canine packs standing or lying on every side. The great Rishi Viswamitra, urged by pangs of hunger and engaged in search after food, entered that hamlet and endeavoured his best to find something to eat. Though the son of Kusika begged repeatedly, yet he failed to obtain any meat or rice or fruit or root or any other kind of food. He then, exclaiming, 'Alas, great is the distress that has overtaken me!' fell down from weakness in that hamlet of the Chandalas. The sage began to reflect, saying to himself, 'What is best for me to do now?' Indeed, O best of kings, the thought that occupied him was of the means by which he could avoid immediate death. He beheld, O king, a large piece of flesh, of a dog that had recently been slain with a weapon, spread on the floor of a Chandala's hut. The sage reflected and arrived at the conclusion that he should steal that meat. And he said unto himself, 'I have no means now of sustaining life. Theft is allowable in a season of distress for even an eminent person. It will not detract from his glory. Even a Brahmana for saving his life may do it. This is certain. In the first place one should steal from a low person. Failing such a person one may steal from one's equal. Failing an equal, one may steal from even an eminent and righteous man. I shall then, at this time when my life itself is ebbing away, steal this meat. I do not see demerit in such theft. I shall, therefore, rob this haunch of dog's meat.' Having formed this resolution, the great sage Viswamitra laid himself down for sleep in that place where the Chandala was. Seeing some time after that the night had advanced and that the whole Chandala hamlet had fallen asleep, the holy Viswamitra, quietly rising up, entered that hut. The Chandala who owned it, with eyes covered with phlegm, was lying like one asleep. Of disagreeable visage, he said these harsh words in a broken and dissonant voice. "'"The Chandala said, 'Who is there, engaged in undoing the latch? The whole Chandala hamlet is asleep. I, however, am awake and not asleep. Whoever thou art, thou art about to be slain.' These were the harsh words that greeted the sage's ears. Filled with fear, his face crimson with blushes of shame, and his heart agitated by anxiety caused by that act of theft which he had attempted, he answered, saying, 'O thou that art blest with a long life, I am Viswamitra. I have come here oppressed by the pangs of hunger. O thou of righteous understanding, do not slay me, if thy sight be clear.' Hearing these words of that great Rishi of cleansed soul, the Chandala rose up in terror from his bed and approached the sage. Joining his palms from reverence and with eyes bathed in tears, he addressed Kusika's son, saying, 'What do you seek here in the night, O Brahmana?' Conciliating the Chandala, Viswamitra said, 'I am exceedingly hungry and about to die of starvation. I desire to take away that haunch of dog's meat. Being hungry, I have become sinful. One solicitous of food has no shame. It is hunger that is urging me to this misdeed. It is for this that I desire to take away that haunch of dog's meat. My life-breaths are languishing. Hunger has destroyed my Vedic lore. I am weak and have lost my senses. I have no scruple about clean or unclean food. Although I know that it is sinful, still I wish to take away that haunch of dog's meat. After I had failed to obtain any alms, having wandered from house to house in this your hamlet, I set my heart upon this sinful act of taking away this haunch of dog's meat. Fire is the mouth of the gods. He is also their priest. He should, therefore, take nothing save things that are pure and clean. At times, however, that great god becomes a consumer of everything. Know that I have now become even like him in that respect.' Hearing these words of the great Rishi, the Chandala answered him, saying, 'Listen to me. Having heard the words of truth that I say, act in such a way that thy religious merit may not perish. Hear, O regenerate Rishi, what I say unto thee about thy duty. The wise say that a dog is less clean than a jackal. The haunch, again, of a dog is a much worse part than other parts of his body. This was not wisely resolved by thee, therefore, O great Rishi, this act that is inconsistent with righteousness, this theft of what belongs to a Chandala, this theft, besides, of food that is unclean. Blessed be thou, do thou look for some other means for preserving thy life. O great sage, let not thy penances suffer destruction in consequence of this thy strong desire for dog's meat. Knowing as thou dost the duties laid down in the scriptures, thou shouldst not do an act whose consequence is a confusion of duties.[431] Do not cast off righteousness, for thou art the foremost of all persons observant of righteousness.' Thus addressed, O king, the great Rishi Viswamitra, afflicted by hunger, O bull of Bharata's race, once more said, 'A long time has passed away without my having taken any food. I do not see any means again for preserving my life. One should, when one is dying, preserve one's life by any means in one's power without judging of their character. Afterwards, when competent, one should seek the acquisition of merit. The Kshatriyas should observe the practices of Indra. It is the duty of the Brahmanas to behave like Agni. The Vedas are fire. They constitute my strength. I shall, therefore, eat even this unclean food for appeasing my hunger. That by which life may be preserved should certainly be accomplished without scruple. Life is better than death. Living, one may acquire virtue. Solicitous of preserving my life, I desire, with the full exercise of my understanding, to eat this unclean food. Let me receive thy permission. Continuing to live I shall seek the acquisition of virtue and shall destroy by penances and by knowledge the calamities consequent on my present conduct, like the luminaries of the firmament destroying even the thickest gloom.' "'"The Chandala said, 'By eating this food one (like thee) cannot obtain long life. Nor can one (like thee) obtain strength (from such food), nor that gratification which ambrosia offers. Do thou seek for some other kind of alms. Let not thy heart incline towards eating dog's meat. The dog is certainly an unclean food to members of the regenerate classes.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'Any other kind of meat is not to be easily had during a famine like this. Besides, O Chandala, I have no wealth (wherewith to buy food). I am exceedingly hungry. I cannot move any longer. I am utterly hopeless. I think that all the six kinds of taste are to be found in that piece of dog's meat.' "'"The Chandala said, 'Only the five kinds of five-clawed animals are clean food for Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas, as laid down in the scriptures. Do not set thy heart upon what is unclean (for thee).' "'"Viswamitra said, 'The great Rishi Agastya, while hungry, ate up the Asura named Vatapi. I am fallen into distress. I am hungry. I shall therefore, eat that haunch of dog's meat.' "'"The Chandala said, 'Do thou seek some other alms. It behoves thee not to do such a thing. Verily, such an act should never be done by thee. If however, it pleases thee, thou mayst take away this piece of dog's meat.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'They that are called good are authorities in matters of duty. I am following their example. I now regard this dog's haunch to be better food than anything that is highly pure.' "'"The Chandala said, 'That which is the act of an unrighteous person can never be regarded as an eternal practice. That which is an improper act can never be a proper one. Do not commit a sinful act by deception.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'A man who is a Rishi cannot do what is sinful.[432] In the present case, deer and dog, I think, are same (both being animals). I shall, therefore, eat this dog's haunch.' "'"The Chandala said, 'Solicited by the Brahmanas, the Rishi (Agastya) did that act. Under the circumstances it could not be a sin. That is righteousness in which there is no sin. Besides, the Brahmanas, who are the preceptors of three other orders, should be protected and preserved by every means.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'I am a Brahmana. This my body is a friend of mine. It is very dear to me and is worthy of the highest reverence from me. It is from the desire of sustaining the body that the wish is entertained by me of taking away that dog's haunch. So eager have I become that I have no longer any fear of thee and thy fierce brethren.' "'"The Chandala said, 'Men lay down their lives but they still do not set their hearts on food that is unclean. They obtain the fruition of all their wishes even in this world by conquering hunger. Do thou also conquer thy hunger and obtain those rewards.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'As regards myself, I am observant of rigid vows and my heart is set on peace. For preserving the root of all religious merit, I shall eat food that is unclean. It is evident that such an act would be regarded as righteous in a person of cleansed soul. To a person, however, of uncleansed soul, the eating of dog's flesh would appear sinful. Even if the conclusion to which I have arrived be wrong, (and if I eat this dog's meat) I shall not, for that act, become one like thee.' "'"The Chandala said, 'It is my settled conclusion that I should endeavour my best to restrain thee from this sin. A Brahmana by doing a wicked act falls off from his high state. It is for this that I am reproving thee.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'Kine continue to drink, regardless of the croaking of the frogs. Thou canst lay no claim to what constitutes righteousness (and what not). Do not be a self-eulogiser.' "'"The Chandala said, 'I have become thy friend. For this reason only I am preaching to thee. Do what is beneficial. Do not, from temptation, do what is sinful.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'If thou be a friend desirous of my happiness, do thou then raise me up from this distress. In that case, relinquishing this dog's haunch, I may consider myself saved by the aid of righteousness (and not by that of sinfulness).' "'"The Chandala said, 'I dare not make a present of this piece of meat to thee, nor can I quietly suffer thee to rob me of my own food. If I give thee this meat and if thou take it, thyself being a Brahmana, both of us will become liable to sink in regions of woe in the next world.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'By committing this sinful act today I shall certainly save my life which is very sacred. Having saved my life, I shall afterwards practise virtue and cleanse my soul. Tell me which of these two is preferable (to die without food, or save my life by taking this food that is unclean).' "'"The Chandala said, 'In discharging the duties that appertain to one's order or race, one's own self is the best judge (of its propriety or impropriety). Thou thyself knowest which of those two acts is sinful. He who would regard dog's meat as clean food, I think, would in matters of food abstain from nothing!' "'"Viswamitra said, 'In accepting (an unclean present) or in eating (unclean food) there is sin. When one's life, however, is in danger there is no sin in accepting such a present or eating such food. Besides, the eating of unclean food, when unaccompanied by slaughter and deception and when the act will provoke only mild rebuke, is not matter of much consequence.' "'"The Chandala said, 'If this be thy reason for eating unclean food, it is then clear thou dost not regard the Veda and Arya morality. Taught by what thou art going to do, I see, O foremost of Brahmanas, that there is no sin in disregarding the distinction between food that is clean and food that is unclean.' "'"Viswamitra said, 'It is not seen that a person incurs a grave sin by eating (forbidden food). That one becomes fallen by drinking wine is only a wordy precept (for restraining men from drinking). The other forbidden acts (of the same species), whatever they be, in fact, every sin, cannot destroy one's merit.' "'"The Chandala said, 'That learned person who takes away dog's meat from an unworthy place (like this), from an unclean wretch (like me), from one who (like me) leads such a wicked life, commits an act that is opposed to the behaviour of those that are called good. In consequence, again, of his connection with such a deed, he is certain to suffer the pangs of repentance.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The Chandala, having said these words unto Kusika's son, became silent. Viswamitra then, of cultivated understanding, took away that haunch of dog's meat. The great ascetic having possessed himself of that piece of dog's meat for saving his life, took it away into the woods and wished with his wife to eat it. He resolved that having first gratified the deities according to due rites, he should then eat that haunch of dog's meat at his pleasure. Igniting a fire according to the Brahma rites, the ascetic, agreeably to those rites that go by the name of Aindragneya, began himself to cook that meat into sacrificial Charu. He then, O Bharata, began the ceremonies in honour of the gods and the Pitris, by dividing that Charu into as many portions as were necessary, according to the injunctions of the scriptures, and by invoking the gods with Indra at their head (for accepting their shares). Meanwhile, the chief of the celestials began to pour copiously. Reviving all creatures by those showers, he caused plants and herbs to grow once more. Viswamitra, however, having completed the rites in honour of the gods and the Pitris and having gratified them duly, himself ate that meat. Burning all his sins afterwards by his penances, the sage, after a long time, acquired the most wonderful (ascetic) success. Even thus, when the end in view is the preservation of life itself, should a high-souled person possessed of learning and acquainted with means rescue his own cheerless self, when fallen into distress, by all means in his power. By having recourse to such understanding one should always preserve one's life. A person, if alive, can win religious merit and enjoy happiness and prosperity. For this reason, O son of Kunti, a person of cleansed soul and possessed of learning should live and act in this world, relying upon his own intelligence in discriminating between righteousness and its reverse."'" SECTION CXLII "'Yudhishthira said, "If that which is so horrible and which like falsehood should never be an object of regard, be cited (as duty), then what act is there from which I should forbear? Why also should not robbers then be respected? I am stupefied! My heart is pained! All the ties that bind me to morality are loosened! I cannot tranquillise my mind and venture to act in the way suggested by you." "'Bhishma said, "I do not instruct thee in respect of duty, taught by what I have heard from the Vedas alone. What I have told thee is the result of wisdom and experience. This is the honey that the learned have gathered. Kings should gather wisdom from various sources. One cannot accomplish his course through the world with the aid of a morality that is one-sided. Duty must spring from the understanding; and the practices of those that are good should always be ascertained, O son of Kuru! Attend to these words of mine. Only kings that are possessed of superior intelligence can rule, expecting victory. A king should provide for the observance of morality by the aid of his understanding and guided by knowledge derived from various sources. The duties of a king can never be discharged by rules drawn from a morality that is one-sided. A weak-minded king can never display wisdom (in the discharge of his duties) in consequence of his not having drawn any wisdom from the examples before him. Righteousness sometimes takes the shape of unrighteousness. The latter also sometimes takes the shape of the former. He who does not know this, becomes confounded when confronted by an actual instance of the kind. Before the occasion comes, one should, O Bharata, comprehend the circumstances under which righteousness and its reverse become confused. Having acquired this knowledge, a wise king should, when the occasion comes, act accordingly, aided by his judgment. The acts he does at such a time are misunderstood by ordinary people. Some persons are possessed of true knowledge. Some persons have false knowledge. Truly ascertaining the nature of each kind of knowledge, a wise king derives knowledge from them that are regarded as good. They that are really breakers of morality find fault with the scriptures. They that have themselves no wealth proclaim the inconsistencies of the treatises on the acquisition of wealth. Those who seek to acquire knowledge for the object only of carrying their sustenance by it, O king, are sinful besides being enemies of morality. Wicked men, of immature understandings, can never know things truly, even as persons unconversant with scriptures are unable in all their acts to be guided by reason. With eyes directed to the faults of the scriptures, they decry the scriptures. Even if they understand the true meaning of the scriptures, they are still in the habit of proclaiming that scriptural injunctions are unsound. Such men, by decrying the knowledge of others proclaim the superiority of their own knowledge. They have words for their weapons and words for their arrows and speak as if they are real masters of their sciences. Know, O Bharata, that they are traders in learning and Rakshasas among men. By the aid of mere pretexts they cast off that morality which has been established by good and wise men. It has been heard by us that the texts of morality are not to be understood by either discussion or one's own intelligence. Indra himself has said that this is the opinion of the sage Vrihaspati. Some are of opinion that no scriptural text has been laid down without a reason. Others again, even if they properly understand the scriptures, never act according to them. One class of wise men declare that morality is nothing else than the approved course of the world. The man of true knowledge should find out for himself the morality laid down for the good. If even a wise man speaks of morality under the influence of wrath or confusion of understanding or ignorance, his deliverances go for nothing. Discourses on morality made with the aid of an intelligence that is derived from the true letter and spirit of the scriptures, are worthy of praise and not those which are made with the help of anything else. Even the words heard from an ignorant person, if in themselves they be fraught with sense, come to be regarded as pious and wise. In days of old, Usanas said unto the Daityas this truth, which should remove all doubts, that scriptures are no scriptures if they cannot stand the test of reason. The possession or absence of knowledge that is mixed with doubts is the same thing. It behoves thee to drive off such knowledge after tearing it up by the roots. He who does not listen to these words of mine is to be regarded as one that has suffered himself to be misled. Dost thou not see that thou wert created for the accomplishment of fierce deeds? Behold me, O dear child, how, by betaking myself, to the duties of the order of my birth, I have despatched innumerable Kshatriyas to heaven! There are some that are not delighted with me for this. The goat, the horse and the Kshatriya were created by Brahman for a similar purpose (viz., for being useful to everybody). A Kshatriya, therefore, should incessantly seek the happiness of all creatures. The sin that attaches to killing a person that should not be killed is equal to that which is incurred by not killing one who deserves to be killed. Even such is the established order of things which a weak-minded king thinks of never attending to. Therefore, a king should display severity in making all his subjects observe their respective duties. If this is not done, they will prowl like wolves, devouring one another. He is a wretch among Kshatriyas in whose territories robbers go about plundering the property of other people like crows taking little fishes from water. Appointing high-born men possessed of Vedic knowledge as thy ministers, do thou govern the earth, protecting thy subjects righteously. That Kshatriya who, ignorant of the established customs and contrivances, improperly levies taxes upon his people, is regarded as a eunuch of his order. A king should be neither severe nor mild. If he rules righteously he deserves praise. A king should not cast off both the qualities; on the other hand, becoming severe (on occasions demanding severity), he should be mild when it is necessary to be so. Painful is the observance of Kshatriya duties. I bear a great love for thee. Thou art created for the accomplishment of severe acts. Therefore, do thou rule thy kingdom. Sakra possessed of great intelligence has said that in times of distress the great duty of a king is chastising the wicked and protecting the good."' "'Yudhishthira said, "Is there any such rule (in respect of kingly duties) which should, under no circumstances, be violated? I ask thee this, O foremost of virtuous persons! Tell me, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "One should always worship Brahmanas venerable for learning, devoted to penances, and rich in conduct conformable to the injunctions of the Vedas. This indeed, is a high and sacred duty. Let thy conduct towards the Brahmanas be always that which thou observest towards the gods. The Brahmanas, if enraged, can inflict diverse kinds of wrong, O king. If they be gratified, high fame will be thy share. If otherwise, great will be thy fear. If gratified, the Brahmanas become like nectar. If enraged, they become like poison."'" SECTION CXLIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou of great wisdom, O thou that are conversant with every kind of scripture, tell me what the merit is of one who cherishes a suppliant that craves for protection." "'Bhishma said, "Great is the merit, O monarch, in cherishing a suppliant. Thou art worthy, O best of the Bharatas, of asking such a question. Those high-souled kings of old, viz., Sivi and others, O king, attained to great bliss in heaven by having protected suppliants. It is heard that a pigeon received with respect a suppliant foe according to due rites and even fed him with his own flesh." "'Yudhishthira said, "How, indeed, did a pigeon in days of old feed a suppliant foe with his own flesh? What also was the end, O Bharata, that he won by such conduct?" "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, to this excellent story that cleanses the hearer of every sin, the story, viz., that Bhrigu's son (Rama) had recited to king Muchukunda. This very question, O son of Pritha had been put to Bhrigu's son by Muchukunda with due humility. Unto him desirous of listening with humility the son of Bhrigu narrated this story of how a pigeon, O monarch, won success (entitling him to the highest heavenly bliss). "'The sage said, "O mighty-armed monarch, listen to me as I narrate to thee this story that is fraught with truths connected with Virtue, Profit, and Pleasure. A wicked and terrible fowler, resembling the Destroyer himself, used in days of old to wander through the great forest. He was black as a raven and his eyes were of a bloody hue. He looked like Yama himself. His legs were long, his feet short, his mouth large, and his cheeks protruding. He had no friend, no relative, no kinsman. He had been cast off by them all for the exceedingly cruel life he led. Indeed, a man of wicked conduct should be renounced from a distance by the wise, for he who injures his own self cannot be expected to do good to others. Those cruel and wicked-souled men that take the lives of other creatures are always like poisonous snakes, a source of trouble to all creatures. Taking his nets with him, and killing birds in the woods, he used to sell the meat of those winged creatures, O king (for livelihood). Following such conduct, the wicked-souled wretch lived for many long years without ever understanding the sinfulness of his life. Accustomed for many long years to sport with his wife in the forest in the pursuit of this profession, and stupefied by destiny, no other profession was liked by him. One day as he was wandering through the forest intent on his business, a great storm arose that shook the trees and seemed about to uproot them. In a moment dense clouds appeared on the sky, with flashes of lightning playing amidst them, presenting the aspect of a sea covered with merchants' boats and vessels. He of a hundred sacrifices having entered the clouds with a large supply of rain, in a moment the earth became flooded with water. While yet the rain fell to torrents, the fowler lost his senses through fear. Trembling with cold and agitated with fear, he roved through the forest. The killer of birds failed to find any high spot (which was not under water). The paths of the forest were all submerged. Inconsequence of the force of the shower, many birds were deprived of life or dropped down on the ground. Lions and bears and other animals, availing themselves of some high spots they had found, lay down to rest. All the denizens of the forest were filled with fear in consequence of that frightful storm and shower. Frightened and hungry they roamed through the woods in packs, small and large. The fowler, however, with limbs stiffened by cold, could neither stop where he was nor move. While in this state he eyed a she-pigeon lying on the ground, stiffened with cold. The sinful wight, though himself in the same predicament, beholding the bird, picked her up and immured her in a cage. Himself overwhelmed with affliction, he scrupled not to overwhelm a fellow-creature with affliction. Indeed, the wretch, through force of habit alone, committed that sin even at such a time. He then beheld in the midst of that forest a lordly tree, blue as the clouds. It was the resort of myriads of birds desirous of shade and shelter. It seemed to have been placed there by the Creator for the good of all creatures like a good man in the world. Soon the sky cleared and became spangled with myriads of stars, presenting the aspect of a magnificent lake smiling with blooming lilies. Turning his eyes towards the clear firmament rich with stars, the fowler began to advance, still trembling with cold. Beholding the sky cleared of clouds, he cast his eyes on all sides and seeing that night was already upon him, he began to think, 'My home is at great distance from where I am.' He then resolved to pass the night under the shade of that tree. Bowing down to it with joined hands, he addressed that monarch of the forest, saying, 'I am a suppliant for the shelter unto all the deities that have this tree for their resort.' Having said these words, he spread some leaves for a bed, and laid himself down on it, resting his head on a stone. Though overwhelmed with affliction, the man soon fell asleep."'" SECTION CXLIV "'Bhishma said, "In one of the branches of that tree, a pigeon with beautiful feathers, O king, lived for many years with his family. That morning his wife had gone out in search of food but had not yet returned. Seeing the night had come and his wife still unreturned, the bird began to indulge in lamentations: 'Oh, great has been the storm and painful the shower that came today! Alas, thou has not yet returned, O dear wife! Woe is on me, what can be the cause that she has not yet come back to us? Is every thing right with that dear spouse of mine in the forest? Separated from her, this my home appears to me empty! A house-holder's home, even if filled with sons and grandsons and daughters-in-law and servants, is regarded empty if destitute of the housewife. One's house is not one's home; one's wife only is one's home. A house without the wife is as desolate as the wilderness. If that dear wife of mine, of eyes fringed with red, of variegated plumes, and of sweet voice, does not come back today, my life itself will cease to be of any value. Of excellent vows, she never eats before I eat, and never bathes before I bathe. She never sits before I sit down, and never lies before I lie down. She rejoices if I rejoice, and becomes sorry when I am sorry. When I am away she becomes cheerless, and when I am angry she ceases not to speak sweetly. Ever devoted to her lord and ever relying upon her lord, she was ever employed in doing what was agreeable to and beneficial for her lord. Worthy of praise is that person on earth who owns such a spouse. That amiable creature knows that I am fatigued and hungry. Devoted to me and constant in her love, my famous spouse is exceedingly sweet-tempered and worships me devoutly. Even the foot of a tree is one's home if one lives there with one's spouse as a companion. Without one's spouse, a very palace is truly a desolate wilderness. One's spouse is one's associate in all one's acts of Virtue, Profit and Pleasure. When one sets out for a strange land one's wife is one's trusted companion. It is said that the wife is the richest possession of her lord. In this world the wife is the only associate of her lord in all the concerns of life.[433] The wife is ever the best of medicines that one can have in sickness and woe. There is no friend like unto the wife. There is no refuge better than the wife. There is no better ally in the world than the wife in acts undertaken for the acquisition of religious merit. He that has not in his house a wife that is chaste and of agreeable speech, should go to the woods. For such a man there is no difference between home and wilderness.'"'" SECTION CXLV "'Bhishma said, "Hearing those piteous lamentations of the pigeon on the tree, the she-pigeon seized by the fowler began to say to herself as follows. "'"The she-pigeon said, 'Whether I have any merit or not, verily there is no limit to any good fortune when my dear lord thus speaks of me. She is no wife with whom her lord is not content. In the case of women, if their lords be gratified with them all the deities also become so. Since the marriage union takes place in the presence of fire, the husband is the wife's highest deity. That wife with whom her husband is not pleased becomes consumed into ashes, even like a creeper adorned with bunches of flowers in a forest conflagration.' Having reflected thus, the she-pigeon, afflicted with woe, and immured by the fowler within his cage, thus spoke unto her woe-stricken lord, 'I shall say what is now beneficial for thee. Hearing me follow thou my counsel. O dear lord, be thou the rescuer of a suppliant. This fowler lies here by thy abode, afflicted with cold and hunger. Do him the duties of hospitality. The sin that a person commits by slaying a Brahmana or that mother of the world, viz., a cow, is equal to that which one incurs by suffering a suppliant to perish (from want of help). Thou art possessed of knowledge of self. It ever behoves one like thee, therefore, to follow that course which has been ordained for us as pigeons by the order of our birth.[434] It has been heard by us that the householder who practises virtue according to the measure of his abilities, wins hereafter inexhaustible regions of bliss. Thou hast sons. Thou hast progeny. O bird, casting off all kindness for thy own body, therefore, and for winning virtue and profit, offer worship to this fowler so that his heart may be pleased. Do not, O bird, indulge in any grief on my account. (See, how unimportant I am!) Thou mayst continue to live, taking other wives!' The amiable she-pigeon, overcome with sorrow, and casting her eyes upon her lord from the fowler's cage within which she had been immured, said these words unto him."'" SECTION CXLVI "'Bhishma said, "Hearing these words fraught with morality and reason that were spoken by his wife, the pigeon became filled with great delight and his eyes were bathed in tears of joy. Beholding that fowler whose avocation was the slaughter of birds, the pigeon honoured him scrupulously according to the rites laid down in the ordinance. Addressing him, he said, 'Thou art welcome today. Tell me, what I shall do for thee. Thou shouldst not repine. This is thy home.[435] Tell me quickly what I am to do and what is thy pleasure. I ask thee this in affection, for thou hast solicited shelter at our hands. Hospitality should be shown to even one's foe when he comes to one's house. The tree withdraws not its shade from even the person that approaches it for cutting it down. One should, with scrupulous care, do the duties of hospitality towards a person that craves for shelter. Indeed, one is especially bound to do so if one happens to lead a life of domesticity that consists of the five sacrifices. If one, while leading a life of domesticity, does not, from want of judgment, perform the five sacrifices, one loses, according to the scriptures, both this and the next world. Tell me then trustfully and in intelligible words what thy, wishes are. I will accomplish them all. Do not set thy heart on grief.' Hearing these words of the bird, the fowler replied unto him, saying, 'I am stiff with cold. Let provision be made for warming me.' Thus addressed, the bird gathered together a number of dry leaves on the ground, and taking a single leaf in his beak speedily went away for fetching fire. Proceeding to a spot where fire is kept, he obtained a little fire and came back to the spot. He then set fire to those dry leaves, and when they blazed forth into vigorous flames, he addressed his guest, saying, 'Do thou trustfully and without fear warm thy limbs.' Thus addressed, the fowler said, 'So be it.' And he set himself to warm his stiffened limbs. Recovering (as it were) his life-breaths the fowler said unto his winged host, 'Hunger is afflicting me. I wish thee to give me some food.' Hearing his words the bird said, 'I have no stores by which to appease thy hunger. We, denizens of the woods, always live upon what we get every day. Like the ascetics of the forest we never hoard for the morrow.' Having said these words, the bird's face became pale (from shame). He began to reflect silently as to what he should do and mentally deprecated his own method of living. Soon, however, his mind became clear. Addressing the slaughterer of his species, the bird said, 'I shall gratify thee. Wait for a moment.' Saying these words, he ignited a fire with the help of some dry leaves, and filled with joy, said, 'I heard in former days from high-souled Rishis and gods and Pitris that there is great merit in honouring a guest. O amiable one, be kind to me. I tell thee truly that my heart is set upon honouring thee that art my guest.' Having formed this resolution, the high-souled bird with a smiling face, thrice circumambulated that fire and then entered its flames. Beholding the bird enter that fire, the fowler began to think, and asked himself, 'What have I done? Alas, dark and terrible will be my sin, without doubt in consequence of my own acts! I am exceedingly cruel and worthy of reprobation.' Indeed, observing the bird lay down his life, the fowler, deprecating his own acts, began to indulge in copious lamentations like thee."'" SECTION CXLVII "'Bhishma said, "The fowler, seeing the pigeon fall into the fire, became filled with compassion and once more said, 'Alas, cruel and senseless that I am, what have I done! I am certainly a mean wretch! Great will be my sin for everlasting years!' Indulging in such self-reproaches he began to say, repeatedly, 'I am unworthy of credit. My understanding is wicked. I am ever sinful in my resolves. Alas, abandoning all kinds of honourable occupation, I have become a fowler. A cruel wretch that I am, without doubt, this high-souled pigeon, by laying down his own life, has read me a grave lesson. Abandoning wives and sons, I shall certainly cast off my very life-breaths that are so dear. The high-souled pigeon has taught me that duty. From this day, denying every comfort to my body, I shall wear it out even as a shallow tank in the season of summer. Capable of bearing hunger, thirst, and penances, reduced to emaciation, and covered with visible veins all over, I shall, by diverse kinds of practise such vows as have a reference to the other world. Alas, by giving up his body, the pigeon has shown the worship that should be paid to a guest. Taught by his example, I shall henceforth practise righteousness. Righteousness is the highest refuge (of all creatures). Indeed, I shall practise such righteousness as has been seen in the righteous pigeon, that foremost of all winged creatures.' Having formed such a resolution and said these words, that fowler, once of fierce deeds, proceeded to make an unreturning tour of the world,[436] observing for the while the most rigid vows. He threw away his stout staff, his sharp-pointed iron-stick, his nets and springs, and his iron cage, and set at liberty the she-pigeon that he had seized and immured."'" SECTION CXLVIII "'Bhishma said, "After the fowler had left that spot, the she-pigeon, remembering her husband and afflicted with grief on his account, wept copiously and indulged in these lamentations, 'I cannot, O dear lord, recollect a single instance of thy having done me an injury! Widows, even if mothers of many children, are still miserable! Bereft of her husband, a woman becomes helpless and an object of pity with her friends. I was always cherished by thee, and in consequence of the great respect thou hadst for me I was always honoured by thee with sweet, agreeable, charming, and delightful words. I sported with thee in valleys, in springs of rivers, and on delightful tops of trees. I was also made happy by thee while roving with thee through the skies. I used to sport with thee before, O dear lord, but where are those joys now? Limited are the gifts of the father, of the brother, and of the son to a woman. The gifts that her husband alone makes to her are unlimited. What woman is there that would not, therefore, adore her lord? A woman has no protector like her lord, and no happiness like her lord. Abandoning all her wealth and possessions, a woman should take to her lord as her only refuge. Life here is of no use to me, O lord, now that I am separated from thee. What chaste woman is there that would, when deprived of her lord, venture to bear the burden of life?' Filled with sorrow and indulging in such piteous lamentations, the she-pigeon, devoted to her lord, cast herself on the blazing fire. She then beheld her (deceased) husband adorned with bracelets, seated on a (celestial) car, and adored by many high-souled and meritorious beings standing around him. Indeed, there he was in the firmament, decked with fine garlands and attired in excellent robes, and adorned with every ornament. Around him were innumerable celestial cars ridden by beings who had acted meritoriously while in this world. Seated on his own celestial car, the bird ascended to heaven, and obtaining proper honours for his deeds in this world, continued to sport in joy, accompanied by his wife."'" SECTION CXLIX "'Bhishma said, "The fowler, O king, happened to see that pair while seated on their celestial car. Beholding the couple he became filled with sorrow (at the thought of his own misfortune) and began to reflect upon the means of obtaining the same end. And he said to himself, 'I must, by austerities like those of the pigeon, attain to such a high end!' Having formed this resolution, the fowler, who had lived by the slaughter of birds, set out on an unreturning journey. Without any endeavour (for obtaining food) and living upon air alone, he cast off all affections from desire of acquiring heaven. After he had proceeded for some distance, he saw an extensive and delightful lake full of cool and pure water, and adorned with lotuses and teeming with diverse kinds of water-fowl. Without doubt, the very sight of such a lake is capable of slaking the desire for drink of a thirsty person. Emaciated with fasts, the fowler, however, O king, without casting his eyes upon it, gladly penetrated a forest inhabited by beasts of prey, having ascertained previously its wide extent. After he had entered the forest he became much afflicted by sharp pointed thorns. Lacerated and torn by prickles, and covered all over with blood, he began to wander in that forest destitute of men but abounding with animals of diverse species. Sometime after, in consequence of the friction of some mighty trees caused by a powerful wind, a widespread bush fire arose. The raging element, displaying a splendour like to what it assumes at the end of the Yuga, began to consume that large forest teeming with tall trees and thick bushes and creepers. Indeed, with flames fanned by the wind and myriads of sparks flying about in all directions, the all-consuming deity began to burn that dense forest abounding with birds and beasts. The fowler, desirous of casting off his body, ran with a delighted heart towards that spreading conflagration. Consumed by that fire the fowler became cleansed of all his sins and attained, O best of the Bharatas, to high success. The fever of his heart dispelled, he at last beheld himself in heaven, shining in splendour like Indra in the midst of Yakshas and Gandharvas and persons crowned with ascetic success. Thus, indeed, the pigeon and his devoted spouse, with the fowler, ascended to heaven for their meritorious acts, The woman who thus follows her lord speedily ascends to heaven and shines in splendour there like the she-pigeon of whom I have spoken. Even thus is the old history of the high-souled fowler and the pigeon. Even thus did they earn a highly meritorious end by their righteous acts. No evil befalls the person who listens every day to this story or who recites it every day, even if error invades his mind.[437] O Yudhishthira, O foremost of all righteous persons, the protection of a suppliant is truly a high act of merit. Even the slayer of a cow, by practising this duty, maybe cleansed of sin. That man, however, will never be cleansed who slays a suppliant. By listening to this sacred and sin-cleansing story one becomes freed from distress and attains to heaven at last."'" SECTION CL "'Yudhishthira said, "O best of the Bharatas, when a person commits sin from want of judgment, how may he be cleansed from it? Tell me everything about it." "'Bhishma said, "I shall in this connection recite to thee the old narrative, applauded by the Rishis, of what the regenerate Indrota, the son of Sunaka, said unto Janamejaya. There was in days of yore, a king possessed of great energy, called Janamejaya, who was the son of Parikshit. That lord of earth on one occasion, from want of judgment became guilty of killing a Brahmana. Upon this, all the Brahmanas together with his priests abandoned him. Burning day and night with regret, the king retired into the woods. Deserted by his subjects too, he took this step for achieving high merit. Consumed by repentance, the monarch underwent the most rigid austerities. For washing himself of the sin of Brahmanicide he interrogated many Brahmanas, and wandered from country to country over the whole earth. I shall now tell thee the story of his expiation. Burning with the remembrance of his sinful act, Janamejaya wandered about. One day, in course of his wanderings, he met Indrota, the son of Sunaka, of rigid vows, and approaching him touched his feet. The sage, beholding the king before him, reproved him gravely, saying, 'Thou hast committed a great sin. Thou hast been guilty of foeticide. Why has thou come here? What business hast thou with us? Do not touch me by any means! Go, go away! Thy presence does not give us pleasure. Thy person smells like blood. Thy appearance is like that of a corpse. Though impure, thou seemest to be pure, and though dead thou movest like a living! Dead within, thou art of impure soul, for thou art ever intent upon sin. Though thou sleepest and wakest, thy life, however, is passed in great misery. Thy life, O king, is useless. Thou livest most miserably. Thou hast been created for ignoble and sinful deeds. Sires wish for sons from desire of obtaining diverse kinds of blessings, and hoping they perform penances and sacrifices, worship the gods, and practise renunciation.[438] Behold, the whole race of thy ancestors has fallen into hell in consequence of thy acts. All the hopes thy sires had placed upon thee have become fruitless. Thou livest in vain, for thou art always inspired with hatred and malice towards the Brahmanas--them, that is, by worshipping whom other men obtain long life, fame, and heaven. Leaving this world (when the time comes), thou shalt have to fall (into hell) with head downwards and remain in that posture for innumerable years in consequence of thy sinful deeds. There thou shalt be tortured by vultures and peacocks having iron beaks. Returning thence into this world, thou shalt have to take birth in a wretched order of creatures. If thou thinkest, O king, that this world is nothing and that the next world is the shadow of a shadow, the myrmidons of Yama in the infernal regions will convince thee, dispelling thy unbelief.'"'" SECTION CLI "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed, Janamejaya replied unto the sage, saying, 'Thou rebukest one that deserves to be rebuked. Thou censurest one that is deserving of censure. Thou upbraidest me and my acts. I implore thee to be graceful towards me. All my acts have been sinful. I burn, however, with repentance as if I am in the midst of blazing fire! My mind, in remembrance of my deeds, is exceedingly cheerless. Verily, I am much afraid of Yama. How can I bear to live without extracting that dart from my heart? O Saunaka, suppressing all thy wrath, instruct me now. Formerly I used to show regard for Brahmanas. I solemnly declare that I shall once more show the same regard for thee. Let not my line be extinct. Let not the race in which I am born sink into the dust. It is not proper that they who have wronged Brahmanas and have for that, in consequence of the injunctions of the Vedas, forfeited all claim to the respect of the world and to social intercourse with their fellowmen, should have any bearer of their names for continuing their races. I am overwhelmed with despair. I, therefore, repeat my resolves (about mending my conduct). I pray you to protect me like sages that do not accept gifts protecting the poor. Sinful wights abstaining from sacrifices never attain to heaven.[439] Leaving (this world), they have to pass their time in the pits of hell like Pullindas and Khasas.[440] Ignorant that I am, give me wisdom like a learned preceptor to his pupil or like a sire to his son. Be gratified with me, O Saunaka!' "'"Saunaka said, 'What wonder is there that a person destitute of wisdom should do many improper acts? Knowing this, a person of real wisdom is never angry with creatures (when they become guilty of folly). By ascending upon the top of wisdom's palace, one grieves for others, one's own self being then too pure for becoming an object of other people's grief. In consequence of one's wisdom one surveys all creatures in the world like a person on a mountain-top surveying people below. The person who becomes an object of censure with good men, who hates good men and who hides himself from their view, never succeeds in obtaining any blessing and never understands the propriety of acts. Thou knowest what the energy and the nobility of the Brahmana is as laid down in the Vedas and other scriptures. Act now in such a way that tranquillity of heart may be thine and let Brahmanas be thy refuge. If the Brahmanas cease to be angry with thee, that will ensure thy felicity in heaven. If, again, thou repentest in sin, thy sight will be clear and thou wilt succeed in beholding righteousness.' "'"Janamejaya said, 'I am repenting of my sins. I will never again seek to extinguish virtue. I desire to obtain blessedness. Be thou gratified with me.' "'"Saunaka said, 'Dispelling arrogance and pride, O king, I wish thee to show regard for me![441] Employ thyself in the good of all creatures, ever remembering the mandates of righteousness. I am not reproving thee from fear or narrowness of mind or covetousness. Listen now, with these Brahmanas here, to the words of truth I utter. I do not ask for anything. I shall, however, instruct thee in the ways of righteousness. All persons will croak and bray and cry fie on me (for what I am going to do). They will even call me sinful. My kinsmen and friends will discard me.[442] Without doubt, however, my kinsmen and friends, hearing the words I speak, will succeed in vigorously crossing the difficulties of life. Some that are possessed of great wisdom will understand (my motives) rightly. Know, O child, what my views are, O Bharata, in respect of the Brahmanas. Do thou (after listening to me) act in such a way that they may, through my efforts, obtain every blessing. Do thou also, O king, pledge thy word that thou wilt not again injure the Brahmanas.' "'"Janamejaya said, 'I swear, touching even thy feet, that I shall never again, in thought, word, or deed, injure the Brahmanas.'"'" SECTION CLII "'"Saunaka said, 'I shall for these reasons discourse to thee of righteousness, to thee whose heart has been exceedingly agitated. Possessed of knowledge and great strength, and with a contented heart, thou seekest righteousness of thy own will. A king, first becoming exceedingly stern, then shows compassion and does good to all creatures by his acts. This is certainly very wonderful. People say that that king who commences with sternness burns the whole world. Thou wert stern before. But thou turnest thy eyes on righteousness now. Forsaking luxurious food and all articles of enjoyment, thou hast betaken thyself for a long time to rigid penances. All this, O Janamejaya, is certain to appear wonderful to those kings that are sunk in sin. That he who has affluence should become liberal, or that he who is endued with wealth of asceticism should become reluctant to spend it, is not at all wonderful. It has been said that the one does not live at a distance from the other.[443] That which is ill-judged produces misery in abundance. That on the other hand, which is accomplished with the aid of sound judgment leads to excellent results.[444] Sacrifice, gift, compassions, the Vedas, and truth, O lord of the earth--these five--are cleansing. The sixth is penance well-performed. This last, O Janamejaya, is highly cleansing for kings. By betaking thyself to it properly, thou art certain to earn great merit and blessedness. Visiting sacred spots has also been said to be highly cleansing. In this connection are cited the following verses sung by Yayati: "That mortal who would earn life and longevity should, after having performed sacrifices with devotion, renounce them (in old age) and practise penances." The field of Kuru has been said to be sacred. The river Saraswati has been said to be more so. The tirthas of the Saraswati are more sacred than the Saraswati herself; and the tirtha called Prithudaka is more sacred than all the tirthas of the Saraswati. One that has bathed in Prithudaka. and drunk its waters will not have to grieve for a premature death. Thou shouldst go to Mahasaras, to all the tirthas designated by the name of Pushkara, to Prabhasa, to the northern lake Manasa, and to Kalodaka. Thou shalt then regain life and acquire longevity. Lake Manasa is on the spot where the Saraswati and the Drisadwati mingle with each other. A person possessed of Vedic knowledge should bathe in these places. Manu has said that liberality is the best of all duties and that renunciation is better than liberality. In this connection is cited the following verse composed by Satyavat. (One should act) as a child full of simplicity and destitute of either merit or sin. As regards all creatures there is in this world neither misery nor happiness. (That which is called misery and that which is called happiness are the results of a distraught imagination.) Even this is the true nature of all living creatures. Of all creatures, their lives are superior who have betaken themselves to renunciation and abstained from acts both meritorious and sinful. I shall now tell thee those acts which are best for a king. By putting forth thy might and liberality do thou conquer heaven, O king! That man who possesses the attributes of might and energy succeeds in attaining to righteousness.[445] Do thou rule the earth, O king, for the sake of the Brahmanas and for the sake of happiness. Thou usedst formerly to condemn the Brahmanas. Do thou gratify them now. Though they have cried fie on thee and though they have deserted thee, do thou still, guided by knowledge of self, solemnly pledge thyself never to injure them. Engaged in acts proper for thee, seek what is for thy highest good. Amongst rulers some one becomes as cool as snow; some one, as fierce as fire; some one becomes like a plough (uprooting all enemies); and some one, again, becomes like a thunder-bolt (suddenly scorching his foes). He who wishes to prevent self-destruction should never mix with wicked wights for general or special reasons. From a sinful act committed only once, one may cleanse one's self by repenting of it. From a sinful act committed twice, one may cleanse one's self by vowing never to commit it again. From such an act committed thrice, one may cleanse one's self by the resolution to bear one's self righteously ever afterwards. By committing such an act repeatedly, one may cleanse one's self by a trip to sacred places. One who is desirous of obtaining prosperity should do all that results in blessedness. They who live amidst fragrant odours themselves become fragrant in consequence. They, on the other hand, who live in the midst of foul stench themselves become foul. One devoted to the practice of ascetic penances is soon cleansed of all one's sins. By worshipping the (homa) fire for a year, one stained by diverse sins becomes purified. One guilty of foeticide is cleansed by worshipping the fire for three years. One guilty of foeticide becomes cleansed at even a hundred Yojanas from Mahasaras, or the tirthas called Pushkara, or Prabhasa, or Manasa on the north, if only one gets out for any of them.[446] A slayer of creatures is cleansed of his sins by saving from imminent peril as many creatures of that particular species as have been slain by him. Manu has said that by diving in water after thrice reciting the Aghamarshana mantras, one reaps the fruits of the final bath in a Horse-sacrifice.[447] Such an act very soon cleanses one of all one's sins, and one regains in consequence the esteem of the world. All creatures become obedient to such a person like helpless idiots (obedient to those that surround them). The gods and Asuras, in days of yore, approaching the celestial preceptor Vrihaspati, O king, humbly enquired of him, saying, "Thou knowest, O great Rishi, the fruits of virtue, as also the fruits of those other acts that lead to hell in the next world. Does not that person succeed in liberating himself from both merit and sin with whom the two (weal and woe) are equal? Tell us, O great Rishi, what the fruits of righteousness are, and how does a righteous person dispels his sins." "'"Vrihaspati answered, 'If having committed sin through folly, one does meritorious acts understanding their nature, one succeeds, by such righteousness, in cleansing one's self from sin even as a piece of dirty cloth is washed clean by means of some saline substance. One should not boast after having committed sin. By having recourse to faith and by freeing one's self from malice, one succeeds in obtaining blessedness. That person who covers the faults, even when exposed, of good men, obtains blessedness even after committing faults. As the sun rising at morn dispels darkness, one dispels all ones sins by acting righteously.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Indrota, the son of Sunaka, having said these words unto king Janamejaya, assisted him, by his ministrations, in the performance of the horse-sacrifice. The king, cleansed of his sins and regaining blessedness, shone with splendour like a blazing fire, and that slayer of foes then entered his kingdom like Soma in his full form entering heaven."'" SECTION CLIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Hast thou, O grandsire, ever seen or heard of any mortal restored to life after having succumbed to death?" "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, to this story of the discourse between a vulture and a jackal as happened of old. Indeed, the occurrence took place in the forest of Naimisha. Once upon a time a Brahmana had, after great difficulties, obtained a son of large expansive eyes. The child died of infantile convulsions. Some (amongst his kinsmen), exceedingly agitated by grief and indulging in loud lamentations, took up the boy of tender years, that sole wealth of his family. Taking the deceased child they proceeded in the direction of the crematorium. Arrived there, they began to take the child from one another's breast and cry more bitterly in grief. Recollecting with heavy hearts the former speeches of their darling again and again, they were unable to return home casting the body on the bare ground. Summoned by their cries, a vulture came there and said these words: 'Go ye away and do not tarry, ye that have to cast off but one child. Kinsmen always go away leaving on this spot thousands of men and thousands of women brought here in course of time. Behold, the whole universe is subject to weal and woe. Union and disunion may be seen in turns. They that have come to the crematorium bringing with them the dead bodies of kinsmen, and they that sit by those bodies (from affection), themselves disappear from the world in consequence of their own acts when the allotted periods of their own lives run out. There is no need of your lingering in the crematorium, this horrible place, that is full of vultures and jackals and that abounds with skeletons and inspires every creature with dread. Whether friend or foe, no one ever comes back to life having once succumbed to the power of Time. Such, indeed, is the fate of all creatures. In this world of mortals, every one that is born is sure to die. Who shalt restore to life one that is dead and gone on the way ordained by the Destroyer? At this hour when men are about to close their daily toil, the Sun is retiring to the Asta hills. Go ye to your homes, casting off this affection for the child.' Hearing these words of the vulture, the grief of the kinsmen seemed to abate, and placing the child on the bare ground they prepared to go away. Assuring themselves of the fact that the child had died and despairing of seeing him again, they began to retrace their steps, indulging in loud lamentations. Assured beyond doubt, and despairing of restoring the dead to life, they cast off that offspring of their race, and prepared to turn back from that spot. At this time a jackal, black as a raven, issued out of his hole and addressed those departing kinsmen, saying, 'Surely, ye that are kinsmen of that deceased child have no affection. There the sun still shineth in the sky, ye fools! Indulge your feelings, without fear. Multifarious are the virtues of the hour. This one may come back to life! Spreading a few blades of Kusa grass on the ground and abandoning that dear child on the crematorium, why do ye go away with hearts of steel and casting off every affection for the darling? Surely, ye have no affection for that sweet-speeched child of tender years, whose words, as soon as they left his lips, used to gladden you greatly. Behold the affection that even birds and beasts bear towards their offspring. Theirs is no return for bringing up their young ones. Like the sacrifices of the Rishis (that are never undertaken from desire of fruit or rewards) the affection of quadrupeds of birds and insects, bears no reward in heaven. Though delighting in their children, they are never seen to derive any benefit from the latter either here or hereafter. Yet they cherish their young ones with affection. Their children, growing up, never cherish them in age. Yet are not they grieved when they do not behold their little ones? Where, indeed, is affection to be seen in human beings that they would own the influence of grief?[448] Where would you go leaving here this child who is the perpetuator of his race? Do you shed tears for him for some time, and do you look at him a little longer with affection? Objects so dear are, indeed, difficult to abandon. It is friends and not others that wait by the side of him that is weak, of him that is prosecuted in a court of law, of him that is borne towards the crematorium. Life-breaths are dear unto all, and all feel the influence of affection. Behold the affection that is cherished by even those that belong to the intermediate species![449] How, indeed, can you go away, casting off this boy of eyes large as the petals of the lotus, and handsome as a newly-married youth washed clean and adorned with floral garlands?' Hearing these words of the jackal that had been indulging in such expressions of touching grief, the men turned back for the sake of the corpse. "'"The vulture said, 'Alas, ye men destitute of strength of mind, why do ye turn back at the bidding of a cruel and mean jackal of little intelligence? Why do you mourn for that compound of five elements deserted by their presiding deities, no longer tenanted (by the soul), motionless, and stiff as a piece of wood? Why do you not grieve for your own selves? Do you practise austere penances by which you will succeed in cleansing yourselves from sin? Everything may be had by means of penances. What will lamentations do? Ill-luck is born with the body.[450] It is in consequence of that ill-luck that this boy has departed, plunging you into infinite grief. Wealth, kine, gold, precious gems, children, all have their root in penances. Penances again are the results of yoga (union of the soul with Godhead). Amongst creatures, the measure of weal or woe is dependent on the acts of a previous life. Indeed, every creature comes into the world taking with him his own measure of weal and woe. The son is not bound by the acts of the sire, or the sire by those of the son. Bound by their own acts, good and bad, all have to travel by this common road. Duly practise all the duties, and abstain from acts of unrighteousness. Reverentially wait, according to the directions of the scriptures, upon the gods and the Brahmanas. Cast off sorrow and cheerlessness, and abstain from parental affection. Leave the child on this exposed ground, and go ye away without delay. The actor alone enjoys the fruit of acts, good or bad, that he does. What concern have kinsmen with them? Casting off a (deceased) kinsman, however dear, kinsmen leave this spot. With eyes bathed in tears, they go away, ceasing to display affection for the dead. Wise or ignorant, rich or poor, every one succumbs to Time, endued with acts, good and bad. What will you do by mourning? Why do you grieve for one that is dead? Time is the lord of all, and in obedience to his very nature he casts an equal eye on all things. In pride of youth or in helpless infancy bearing the weight of years or lying in the mother's womb, every one is subject to be assailed by Death. Such indeed, is the course of the world.' "'"The jackal said, 'Alas, the affection cherished by your weeping selves that are overwhelmed with grief for your deceased child has been lessened by that light-brained vulture. Even this must be the case, since in consequence of his well-applied words fraught with tranquillity and capable of producing conviction, there that one goes back to the town, casting off affection that is so difficult to abandon. Alas, I had supposed that great is the grief felt by men indulging in loud lamentations for the death of a child and for the corpse on a crematorium, like that of kine bereft of calves. Today, however, I understand what the measure of grief is of human beings on earth. Witnessing their great affection I had shed tears myself. (It seems however, that their affection is not strong)! One should always exert oneself. Thence does one succeed through destiny. Exertion and destiny, joining together, produce fruit. One should always exert oneself with hopefulness. How can happiness be had from despondency? Objects of desire may be won by resolution. Why then do you go back so heartlessly? Where do you go, abandoning in the wilderness this son of your own loins, this perpetuator of the race of his sires? Stay here till the sun sets and the evening twilight comes. You may then take away this boy with yourselves or stay with him.' "'"The vulture said, 'I am, ye men, a full thousand years of age today, but I have never seen a dead creature, male or female or of ambiguous sex, revive after death. Some die in the womb; some die soon after birth; some die (in infancy) while crawling (on all fours); some die in youth; and some in old age. The fortunes of all creatures, including even beasts and birds, are unstable. The periods of life of all mobile and immobile creatures are fixed beforehand. Bereaved of spouses and dear ones and filled with sorrow for (the death of) children, men leave this spot every day with agonised hearts for returning home. Leaving on this spot both friends and foes numbering by thousands, kinsmen afflicted with grief go back to their homes. Cast off this lifeless body with no longer any animal heat in it and which is as stiff as a piece of wood! Why then do you not go away, leaving the body of this child which has become like a piece of wood and whose life has entered a new body? This affection (which ye are displaying) is unmeaning and this hugging of the child is fruitless. He does not see with his eyes or hear with his ears. Leaving him here, go ye away without delay. Thus addressed by me in words which are apparently cruel but which in reality are fraught with reason and have a direct bearing with the high religion of emancipation, go ye back to your respective homes.' Addressed thus by the vulture endued with wisdom and knowledge and capable of imparting intelligence and awakening the understanding, those men prepared themselves to turn their backs upon the crematorium. Grief, indeed, increaseth to twice its measure at sight of its object and at the remembrance of the acts of that object (in life). Having heard these words of the vulture, the men resolved to leave the spot. Just at that time the jackal, coming thither with quick steps, cast his eyes on the child lying in the sleep of death. "'"The jackal said, 'Why, indeed, do you leave, at the vulture's bidding, this child of golden complexion, adorned with ornaments, and capable of giving the obsequial cake to his ancestors? If you abandon him, your affection will not come to an end, nor these piteous lamentations. On the other hand, your grief will certainly be greater. It is heard that a Sudra named Samvuka having been slain and righteousness having been upheld by Rama of true prowess, a (dead) Brahmana child was restored to life.[451] Similarly, the son of the royal sage Sweta died (prematurely). But the monarch, devoted to virtue, succeeded in reviving his dead child. After the same manner, in your case also, some sage or deity may be willing to grant your desire and show compassion to you that are crying so piteously.' Thus addressed by the jackal, the men, afflicted with grief and full of affection for the child, retraced their steps, and placing the child's head on their laps one after another, began to indulge in copious lamentations. Summoned by their cries, the vulture, coming to that spot, spoke unto them as follows.' "'"The vulture said, 'Why are you bathing this child with your tears? Why are you pressing him in this fashion with the touch of your palms? At the command of the grim king of justice the child has been sent to that sleep which knows no waking. Those that are endued with the merit of penances, those that are possessed of wealth, those that have great intelligence, in fact, all succumb to death. Even this is the place intended for the dead. It is always to be seen that kinsmen casting off thousands of kinsmen young and old, pass their nights and days in grief, rolling on the bare ground. Cease this ardour in putting on the trappings of woe. That this child would come back to life is what passes belief. He will not get back his life at the bidding of the jackal. If a person once dies and takes leave of his body, his body never regains animation. Hundreds of jackals, by laying down their own lives,[452] will not succeed in reviving this child in hundreds of years. If, however, Rudra, or Kumara, or Brahman, or Vishnu, grant him a boon, then only may this child come back to life. Neither the shedding of tears, nor the drawing of long sighs, nor copious lamentations, will bring back this one to life. Myself, the jackal, you all, and all the kinsmen of this one, with all our merits and sins, are on the same road (that this one has taken). For this reason one possessed of wisdom should, from a distance, avoid behaviour that displeases others, harsh speeches, the infliction of injury on others, the enjoyment of other people's wives, and sin and falsehood. Carefully seek righteousness, truth, the good of others, justice, compassion for all creatures, sincerity, and honesty. They incur sin who, while living, do not cast their eyes upon their mothers and fathers and kinsmen and friends. What will you do, by crying for him after death, that sees not with his eyes and that stirs not in the least?' Thus addressed, the men, overwhelmed with sorrow and burning with grief on account of their affection for the child, departed for their homes, leaving the body (on the crematorium). "'"The jackal said, 'Alas, terrible is the world of mortals! Here no creature can escape. Every creature's period of life, again, is short. Beloved friends are always departing. It abounds with vanities and falsehoods, with accusations and evil reports. Beholding again this incident that enhances pain and grief, I do not for a moment like this world of men. Alas, fie on you, ye men, that thus turn back, like foolish persons, at the vulture's bidding, though you are burning with grief on account of the death of this child. Ye cruel wights, how can you go away, casting off parental affection upon hearing the words of a sinful vulture of uncleansed soul? Happiness is followed by misery, and misery by happiness. In this world which is enveloped by both happiness and misery, none of these two exists uninterruptedly. Ye men of little understanding, whither would ye go, casting off on the bare ground this child of so much beauty, this son that is an ornament of your race. Verily, I cannot dispel the idea from my mind that this child endued with comeliness and youth and blazing with beauty is alive. It is not meet that he should die.[453] It seems that ye are sure to obtain happiness. Ye that are afflicted with grief on account of the death of this child will surely have good luck today. Anticipating the probability of inconvenience and pain (if you remain here for the night) and fixing your hearts on your own comfort, whither would you, like persons of little intelligence, go, leaving this darling?'" "'Bhishma continued, "Even thus, O king, the kinsmen of the deceased child, unable to decide upon what they should do, were, for accomplishment of his own purpose, induced by that sinful jackal who uttered agreeable falsehoods, that denizen of the crematorium who wandered every night in quest of food, to stay in that place. "'"The vulture said, 'Dreadful is this spot, this wilderness, that resounds with the screech of owls and teems with spirits and Yakshas and Rakshasas. Terrible and awful, its aspect is like that of a mass of blue clouds. Casting off the dead body, finish the funeral rites. Indeed, throwing away the body, accomplish those rites before the sun sets and before the points of the horizon become enveloped in gloom. The hawks are uttering their harsh cries. Jackals are howling fiercely. Lions are roaring. The sun is setting. The trees on the crematorium are assuming a dark hue in consequence of the blue smoke of the funeral pyres. The carnivorous denizens of this place, afflicted with hunger, are yelling in rage. All those creatures of horrible forms that live in this frightful place, all those carnivorous animals of grim features that haunt this desert, will soon assail you. This wilderness is certainly frightful. Danger will overtake you. Indeed, if you listen to these false and fruitless words of the jackal against your own good sense, verily, all of you are sure to be destroyed.' "'"The jackal said, 'Stay where you are! There is no fear even in this desert as long as the sun shines. Till the god of day sets, do ye remain here hopefully, induced by parental affection. Without any fear, indulging in lamentations as ye please, continue to look at this child with eyes of affection. Frightful though this wilderness be, no danger will overtake you. In reality this wilderness presents an aspect of quiet and peace. It is here that the Pitris by thousands took leave of the world. Wait as long as the sun shines. What are this vulture's words to you? If with stupefied understandings ye accept the cruel and harsh speeches of the vulture, then your child will never come back to life!'" "'Bhishma continued, "The vulture then addressed those men, saying that the sun had set. The jackal said that it was not so. Both the vulture and the jackal felt the pangs of hunger and thus addressed the kinsmen of the dead child. Both of them had girded up their loins for accomplishing their respective purposes. Exhausted with hunger and thirst, they thus disputed, having recourse to the scriptures. Moved (alternately) by these words, sweet as nectar, of those two creatures, viz., the bird and the beast, both of whom were endued with the wisdom of knowledge, the kinsmen at one time wished to go away and at another to stay there. At last, moved by grief and cheerlessness, they waited there, indulging in bitter lamentations. They did not know that the beast and the bird, skilled in accomplishing their own purposes, had only stupefied them (by their addresses). While the bird and the beast, both possessed of wisdom, were thus disputing and while the kinsmen of the deceased child sat listening to them, the great god Sankara, urged by his divine spouse (Uma), came there with eyes bathed in tears of compassion. Addressing the kinsmen of the deceased child, the god said, 'I am Sankara the giver of boons.' With hearts heavy with grief, those men prostrated themselves before the great deity and said unto him in reply, 'Bereft of this one who was our only child, all of us are at the point of death. It behoveth thee to grant us life by granting life to this our son.' Thus solicited, the illustrious deity, taking up a quantity of water in his hands granted unto that dead child life extending for a hundred years. Ever employed in the good of all creatures, the illustrious wielder of Pinaka granted a boon unto both the jackal and the vulture in consequence of which their hunger was appeased. Filled with delight and having achieved great prosperity, the men bowed unto the god. Crowned with success, they then, O king, left that spot in great joy. Through persistent hopefulness and firm resolution and the grace of the great god, the fruits of one's acts are obtained without delay. Behold, the combination of circumstances and the resolution of those kinsmen. While they were crying with agonised hearts, their tears were wiped and dried up. Behold, how within only a short time, through their steadiness of resolution, they obtained the grace of Sankara, and their afflictions dispelled, they were made happy. Indeed, through Sankara's grace, O chief of the Bharatas, those sorrowing kinsmen were filled with amazement and delight at the restoration of their child to life. Then, O king, casting off that grief of which their child had been the cause, those Brahmanas, filled with delight, quickly went back to their town taking the restored child with them. Behaviour like this has been laid down for all the four orders. By frequently listening to this auspicious story fraught with virtue, profit, and salvation, a man obtains happiness both here and hereafter."'" SECTION CLIV "'Yudhishthira said, "If a person, weak, worthless, and light-hearted, O grandsire, doth from folly provoke, by means of unbecoming and boastful speeches, a powerful foe always residing in his vicinity, competent to do good (when pleased) and chastise (when displeased), and always ready for action, how should the former, relying on his own strength, act when the latter advances against him in anger and from desire of exterminating him?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited, O chief of the Bharatas, the old story of the discourse between Salmali and Pavana. There was a lordly (Salmali) tree on one of the heights of Himavat. Having grown for many centuries, he had spread out his branches wide around. His trunk also was huge and his twigs and leaves were innumerable. Under his shade toil-worn elephants in rut, bathed in sweat, used to rest, and many animals of other species also. The girth of his trunk was four hundred cubits, and dense was the shade of his branches and leaves. Loaded with flowers and fruits, it was the abode of innumerable parrots, male and female. In travelling along their routes, caravans of merchants and traders, and ascetics, residing in the woods, used to rest under the shade of that delightful monarch of the forest. One day, the sage Narada, O bull of Bharata's race, seeing the wide-extending and innumerable branches of that tree and the circumference of his trunk, approached and addressed him, saying, 'O thou art delightful! O thou art charming! O foremost of trees, O Salmali, I am always delighted at thy sight! O charming tree, delightful birds of diverse kinds, and elephants and other animals, cheerfully live on thy branches and under their shade. Thy branches, O wide-branched monarch of the forest, and thy trunk are gigantic. I never see any of them broken by the god of the wind. Is it, O child, the case that Pavana is pleased with thee and is thy friend so that he protects thee always in these woods? The illustrious Pavana possessed of great speed and force moveth from their sites the tallest and strongest trees, and even mountain summits. That sacred bearer of perfumes, blowing (when he wills) drieth up rivers and lakes and seas, including the very nether region. Without doubt, Pavana protects thee through friendship. It is for this reason that, though possessed of innumerable branches, thou art still graced with leaves and flowers. O monarch of the forest, this thy verdure is delightful since these winged creatures, O child, filled with joy, sport on thy twigs and branches. During the season when thou puttest forth thy blossoms, the sweet notes of all these denizens of thy branches are heard separately when they indulge in their melodious songs. Then, again, O Salmali, these elephants that are the ornaments of their species, bathed in sweat and indulging in cries (of delight), approach thee and find happiness here. Similarly, diverse other species of animals inhabiting the woods, contribute to adorn thee. Indeed, O tree, thou lookest beautiful even like the mountains of Meru peopled by creatures of every kind. Resorted to also by Brahmanas crowned with ascetic success, by others engaged in penances, and by Yatis devoted to contemplation,[454] this thy region, I think, resembles heaven itself.'"' SECTION CLV "'"Narada said, 'Without doubt, O Salmali, the terrible and irresistible god of the wind always protects thee from friendliness or amity. It seems, O Salmali, that a close intimacy has come to subsist between thee and the Wind. It seems thou hast said unto him these words, viz., "I am thine," and it is for this reason that the Wind-god protects thee. I do not see the tree or mountain or mansion in this world that may not, I think, be broken by the Wind. Without doubt thou standest here with all thy branches and twigs and leaves, simply because, O Salmali, thou art protected by the Wind for some reason or reasons (unknown to us).' "'"The Salmali said, 'The Wind, O regenerate one, is neither my friend nor mate nor well-wisher. Indeed, he is neither my great Ordainer that he should protect me. My fierce energy and might, O Narada, are greater than the Wind's. In truth, the strength of the Wind comes up to about only an eighteenth part of mine. When the Wind comes in rage, tearing up trees and mountains and other things, I curb his strength by putting forth mine. Indeed, the Wind that breaks many things has himself been repeatedly broken by me. For this reason, O Celestial Rishi, I am not afraid of him even when he comes in wrath.' "'"Narada said, 'O Salmali, thy protection seems to be thoroughly perverse. There is no doubt in this. There is no created thing which is equal to the Wind in strength. Even Indra, or Yama, or Vaisravana, the lord of the waters, is not equal to the god of the wind in might. What need, therefore, be said of thee that art only a tree? Whatever creature in this world, O Salmali, does whatever act, the illustrious Wind-god it is that is at all times the cause of that act, since it is he that is the giver of life. When that god exerts himself with propriety, he makes all living creatures live at their ease. When, however, he exerts improperly, calamities overtake the creatures of the world. What else can it be than weakness of understanding which induces thee to thus withhold thy worship from the god of wind, that foremost of creatures in the universe, that being deserving of worship? Thou art worthless and of a wicked understanding. Indeed, thou indulgest only in unmeaning brag. Thy intelligence being confounded by wrath and other evil passions, thou speakest only untruths, O Salmali! I am certainly angry with thee for thy indulging in such speeches. I shall myself report to the god of the wind all these derogatory words of thine. Chandanas, and Syandanas, and Salas, and Saralas and Devadarus and Vetavas and Dhanwanas and other trees of good souls that are far stronger than thou art, have never, O thou of wicked understanding, uttered such invectives against the Wind. All of them know the might of the Wind as also the might that is possessed by each of them. For these reasons those foremost of trees bow down their heads in respect to that deity. Thou, however, through folly, knowest not the infinite might of the Wind. I shall, therefore, repair to the presence of that god (for apprising him of thy contempt for him).'"'" SECTION CLVI "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words unto the Salmali, that foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma, viz., Narada, represented unto the god of the wind all that the Salmali had said about him. "'"Narada said, 'There is a certain Salmali on the breast of Himavat, adorned with branches and leaves. His roots extend deep into the earth and his branches spread wide around. That tree, O god of the wind disregards thee. He spoke many words fraught with abuse of thyself. It is not proper, O Wind, that I should repeat them in thy hearing. I know, O Wind, that thou art the foremost of all created things. I know too that thou art a very superior and very mighty being, and that in wrath thou resemblest the Destroyer himself.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of Narada, the god of wind, wending to that Salmali, addressed him in rage and said as follows. "'"The Wind-god said, 'O Salmali, thou hast spoken in derogation of me before Narada. Know that I am the god of the wind. I shall certainly show thee my power and might. I know thee well. Thou art no stranger to me. The puissant Grandsire, while engaged in creating the world, had for a time rested under thee. It is in consequence of this incident that I have hitherto shown thee grace. O worst of trees, it is for this that thou standest unharmed, and not in consequence of thy own might. Thou regardest me lightly as if I were a vulgar thing. I shall show myself unto thee in such a way that thou mayst not again disregard me.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, the Salmali laughed in derision and replied, saying, 'O god of the wind, thou art angry with me. Do not forbear showing the extent of thy might. Do thou vomit all thy wrath upon me. By giving way to thy wrath, what wilt thou do to me? Even if thy might had been thy own (instead of being derived), I would not still have been afraid of thee. I am superior to thee in might. I should not be afraid of thee. They are really strong in understanding. They, on the other hand, are not to be regarded strong that are possessed of only physical strength.' Thus addressed, the Wind-god said, 'Tomorrow I shall test thy strength.' After this, night came. The Salmali, concluding mentally what the extent is of the Wind's might and beholding his own self to be inferior to the god, began to say to himself, 'All that I said to Narada is false. I am certainly inferior in might to the Wind. Verily, he is strong in his strength. The Wind, as Narada said, is always mighty. Without doubt, I am weaker than other trees. But in intelligence no tree is my equal. Therefore, relying upon my intelligence I shall look at this fear that arises from the Wind. If the other trees in the forest all rely upon the same kind of intelligence, then, verily, no injury can result to them from the god of the Wind when he becomes angry. All of them. however, are destitute of understanding, and, therefore, they do not know, as I know, why or how the Wind succeeds in shaking and tearing them up.'"'" SECTION CLVII "'Bhishma said, "Having settled this in his mind, the Salmali, in sorrow, himself caused all his branches, principal and subsidiary, to be cut off. Casting off his branches and leaves and flowers, at morn the tree looked steadily at the Wind, as he came towards him. Filled with rage and breathing hard, the Wind advanced, felling large trees, towards that spot where the Salmali stood. Beholding him divested of top and branches and leaves and flowers, the Wind, filled with joy, smilingly addressed that lord of the forest which had before such a gigantic appearance, these words. "'"The Wind said, 'Filled with rage, O Salmali, I would have done to thee precisely what thou hast done to thyself by lopping off all thy branches. Thou art now divested of thy proud top and flowers, and thou art now without thy shoots and leaves. In consequence of thy own evil counsels, thou hast been brought under my power.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the Wind, the Salmali felt great shame. Remembering also the words that Narada had said, he began to repent greatly for his folly. Even in this way, O tiger among kings, a weak and foolish person, by provoking the enmity of a powerful one, is at last obliged to repent like the Salmali in fable. Even when possessed of equal might, people do not suddenly wage hostilities with those that have injured them. On the other hand, they display their might gradually, O king! A person of foolish understanding should never provoke the hostility of one that is possessed of intelligence. In such cases the intelligence of the intelligent man penetrates (the subject upon which it is employed) like fire penetrating a heap of dry grass. Intelligence is the most precious possession that a person can have. Similarly, O king, a man can have nothing here more valuable than might. One should, therefore, overlook the wrongs inflicted by a person possessed of superior strength, even as one should overlook (from compassion) the acts of a child, an idiot, or one that is blind or deaf. The wisdom of this saying is witnessed in thy case, O slayer of foes. The eleven Akshauhinis (of Duryodhana), O thou of great splendour, and the seven (collected by thyself), were not in might equal to the single-handed Arjuna of high soul. All the troops (of Duryodhana), therefore, were routed and slain by that illustrious Pandava, that son of Paka's chastiser, as he coursed on the field of battle, relying on his own strength. I have. O Bharata, discoursed to thee of the duties of kings and the morality of duties in detail. What else, O king, dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION CLVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire, O bull of Bharata's race, to hear in detail the source from which sin proceeds and the foundation upon which it rests." "'Bhishma said, "Hear, O King, what the foundation is of sin. Covetousness alone is a great destroyer (of merit and goodness). From covetousness proceeds sin. It is from this source that sin and irreligiousness flow, together with great misery. This covetousness is the spring of also all the cunning and hypocrisy in the world. It is covetousness that makes men commit sin. From covetousness proceeds wrath, from covetousness flows lust, and it is from covetousness that loss of judgment, deception, pride, arrogance, and malice, as also vindictiveness, shamelessness, loss of prosperity, loss of virtue, anxiety, and infamy spring, miserliness, cupidity, desire for every kind of improper act, pride of birth, pride of learning, pride of beauty, pride of wealth, pitilessness for all creatures, malevolence towards all, mistrust in respect of all, insincerity towards all, appropriation of other people's wealth, ravishment of other people's wives, harshness of speech, anxiety, propensity to speak ill of others, violent craving for the indulgence of lust, gluttony, liability to premature death, violent propensity towards malice, irresistible liking for falsehood, unconquerable appetite for indulging in the passions, insatiable desire for indulging the ear, evil-speaking, boastfulness, arrogance, non-doing of duties, rashness, and perpetration of every kind of evil act,--all these proceed from covetousness. In life, men are unable, whether infants or youth or adults, to abandon covetousness. Such is the nature of covetousness that it never decays even with the decay of life. Like the ocean that can never be filled by the constant discharge of even innumerable rivers of immeasurable depths, covetousness is incapable of being gratified by acquisitions to any extent. The covetousness, however, which is never gratified by acquisitions and satiated by the accomplishment of desires, that which is not known in its real nature by the gods, the Gandharvas, the Asuras, the great snakes, and, in fact, by all classes of beings, that irresistible passion, along with that folly which invites the heart to the unrealities of the world, should ever be conquered by a person of cleansed soul. Pride, malice, slander, crookedness, and incapacity to hear other people's good, are vices, O descendant of Kuru, that are to be seen in persons of uncleansed soul under the domination of covetousness. Even persons of great learning who bear in their minds all the voluminous scriptures, and who are competent to dispel the doubts of others, show themselves in this respect to be of weak understanding and feel great misery in consequence of this passion. Covetous men are wedded to envy and anger. They are outside the pale of good behaviour. Of crooked hearts, the speeches they utter are sweet. They resemble, therefore, dark pits whose mouths are covered with grass. They attire themselves in the hypocritical cloak of religion. Of low minds, they rob the world, setting up (if need be) the standard of religion and virtue. Relying upon the strength of apparent reasons, they create diverse kinds of schisms in religion. Intent upon accomplishing the purposes of cupidity, they destroy the ways of righteousness. When wicked-souled persons under the domination of covetousness apparently practise the duties of righteousness, the consequence that results is that the desecrations committed by them soon become current among men. Pride, anger, arrogance, insensibility, paroxysms of joy and sorrow, and self-importance, all these, O descendant of Kuru, are to be seen in persons swayed by covetousness. Know that they who are always under the influence of covetousness are wicked. I shall now tell thee of those about whom thou askest, viz., those who are called good and whose practices are pure. They who have no fear of an obligation to return to this world (after death), they who have no fear of the next world, they who are not addicted to animal food and who have no liking for what is agreeable and no dislike for what is otherwise, they to whom good behaviour is ever dear, they in whom there is self-restraint, they to whom pleasure and pain are equal, they who have truth for their high refuge, they who give but not take, they who have compassion, they who worship Pitris, gods and guests, they who are always ready to exert themselves (for the good of others), they who are universal benefactors, they who are possessed of great courage (of mind), they who observe all the duties laid down in the scriptures, they who are devoted to the good of all, they who can give their all and lay down their very lives for others, are regarded as good and virtuous, O Bharata! Those promoters of righteousness are incapable of being forced away from the path of virtue. Their conduct, conformable to the model set by the righteous men of old, can never be otherwise. They are perfectly fearless, they are tranquil, they are mild, and they always adhere to the right path. Full of compassion, they are always worshipped by the good. They are free from lust and anger. They are not attached to any worldly object. They have no pride. They are observant of excellent vows. They are always objects of regard. Do thou, therefore, always wait upon them and seek instruction from them. They never acquire virtue, O Yudhishthira, for the sake of wealth or of fame. They acquire it on the other hand, because it is a duty like that of cherishing the body. Fear, wrath, restlessness, and sorrow do not dwell in them. There is not the outward garb of religion for misleading their fellow men. There is no mystery with them. They are perfectly contented. There is no error of judgment arising from covetousness. They are always devoted to truth and sincerity. Their hearts never fall from righteousness. Thou shouldst show thy regard for them always, O son of Kunti! They are never delighted at any acquisition or pained at any loss. Without attachment to anything, and freed from pride, they are wedded to the quality of goodness, and they cast an equal eye on all. Gain and loss, weal and woe, the agreeable and the disagreeable, life and death, are equal in the eyes of those men of firm tread, engaged in the pursuit of (divine) knowledge, and devoted to the path of tranquillity and righteousness. Keeping thy senses under restraint and without yielding to heedlessness, thou shouldst always worship those high-souled persons who bear such love for virtue. O blessed one, one's words become productive of good only through the favour of the gods. Under other circumstances, words produce evil consequence."'"[455] SECTION CLIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast said, O grandsire, that the foundation of all evils is covetousness. I wish, O sire, to hear of ignorance in detail." "'Bhishma said, "The person who commits sin through ignorance, who does not know that his end is at hand, and who always hates those that are of good behaviour, soon incurs infamy in the world. In consequence of ignorance one sinks into hell. Ignorance is the spring of misery. Through ignorance one suffers afflictions and incurs great danger." "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire, O king, to hear in detail the origin, the place, the growth, the decay, the rise, the root, the inseparable attribute, the course, the time, the cause, and the consequence, of ignorance. The misery that is felt here is all born of ignorance."[456] "'Bhishma said, "Attachment, hate, loss of judgment, joy, sorrow, vanity, lust, anger, pride, procrastination, idleness, desire, aversion, jealousy, and all other sinful acts are all known by the common name of ignorance.[457] Hear now, O king, in detail, about its tendency, growth and other features after which thou enquirest. These two viz., ignorance and covetousness, know, O king, are the same (in substance). Both are productive of the same fruits and same faults, O Bharata! Ignorance has its origin in covetousness. As covetousness grows, ignorance also grows. Ignorance exists there where covetousness exists. As covetousness decreases, ignorance also decreases. It rises with the rise of covetousness. Manifold again is the course that it takes. The root of covetousness is loss of judgment. Loss of judgment, again, is its inseparable attribute. Eternity is ignorance's course. The time when ignorance appears is when objects of covetousness are not won. From one's ignorance proceeds covetousness, and from the latter proceeds ignorance. (Covetousness, therefore, is both the cause and consequence of ignorance). Covetousness is productive of all. For these reasons, every one should avoid covetousness. Janaka, and Yuvanaswa, and Vrishadarbhi, and Prasenajit, and other kings acquired heaven in consequence of their having repressed covetousness. Do thou also in the sight of all persons, avoid covetousness by a strong resolution, O chief of the Kurus! Avoiding covetousness thou shalt obtain happiness both here and in the next world."'" SECTION CLX "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou of virtuous soul, what, indeed, is said to be productive of great merit[458] for a person attentively engaged in the study of the Vedas and desirous of acquiring virtue? That which is regarded in this world as productive of high merit is of diverse kinds as set forth in the scriptures. Tell me, O grandsire, about that which is regarded as such both here and hereafter. The path of duty is long and has innumerable branches, O Bharata! Amongst those duties what are those few that should, according to thee, be preferred to all others for observance? Tell me, O king, in detail, about that which is so comprehensive and which is so many-branched." "'Bhishma said, "I shall speak to thee of that by which thou mayst attain to high merit. Possessed as thou art of wisdom, thou shalt be gratified with the knowledge I will impart to thee, like a person gratified with having quaffed nectar. The rules of duty that have been uttered by the great Rishis, each relying upon his own wisdom, are many. The highest among them all is self-restraint. Those amongst the ancients that were acquainted with truth said that self-restraint leads to the highest merit. As regards the Brahmana in particular, self-restraint is his eternal duty. It is from self-restraint that he obtains the due fruition of his acts. Self-restraint, in his case, surpasses (in merit) charity and sacrifice and study of the Vedas. Self-restraint enhances (his) energy. Self-restraint is highly sacred. Through self-restraint a man becomes cleansed of all his sins and endued with energy, and as a consequence, attains to the highest blessedness. We have not heard that there is any other duty in all the worlds that can equal self-restraint. Self-restraint, according to all virtuous persons, is the highest of virtues in this world. Through self-restraint, O foremost of men, a person acquires the highest happiness both here and hereafter. Endued with self-restraint, one acquires great virtue. The self-restrained man sleeps in felicity and awakes in felicity, and moves through the world in felicity. His mind is always cheerful. The man who is without self-restraint always suffers misery. Such a man brings upon himself many calamities all born of his own faults. It has been said that in all the four modes of life self-restraint is the best of vows. I shall now tell thee those indications whose sum total is called self-restraint. Forgiveness, patience, abstention from injury, impartiality, truth, sincerity, conquest of the senses, cleverness, mildness, modesty, steadiness, liberality, freedom from wrath, contentment, sweetness of speech, benevolence, freedom from malice,--the union of all these is self-restraint. It also consists, O son of Kuru, of veneration for the preceptor and universal compassion. The self-restrained man avoids both adulation and slander. Depravity, infamy, false speech, lust, covetousness, pride, arrogance, self-glorification, fear, envy and disrespect, are all avoided by the self-restrained man. He never incurs obloquy. He is free from envy. He is never gratified with small acquisitions (in the form of earthly happiness of any kind.) He is even like the ocean which can never be filled.[459] The man of self-restraint is never bound by the attachments that arise from earthly connections like to those involved in sentiments like these, 'I am thine, Thou art thine, They are in me, and I am in them.' Such a man, who adopts the practices of either cities or the woods, and who never indulges in slander or adulation, attains to emancipation. Practising universal friendliness, and possessed of virtuous behaviour, of cheerful soul and endued with knowledge of soul, and liberated from the diverse attachments of the earth, great is the reward that such a person obtains in the world to be. Of excellent conduct and observant of duties, of cheerful soul and possessed of learning and knowledge of self, such a man wins esteem while here and attains to a high end hereafter. All acts that are regarded as good on earth, all those acts that are practised by the righteous, constitute the path of the ascetic possessed of knowledge. A person that is good never deviates from that path. Retiring from the world and betaking himself to a life in the woods, that learned person having a complete control over the senses who treads in that path, in quiet expectation of his decease, is sure to attain to the state of Brahma. He who has no fear of any creature and of whom no creature is afraid, has, after the dissolution of his body, no fear to encounter.[460] He who exhausts his merits (by actual enjoyment) without seeking to store them up, who casts an equal eye upon all creatures and practises a course of universal friendliness, attains to Brahma. As the track of birds along the sky or of fowl over the surface of water cannot be discerned, even so the track of such a person (on earth) does not attract notice. For him, O king, who abandoning home adopts the religion of emancipation, many bright worlds wait to be enjoyed for eternity. If, abandoning all acts, abandoning penances in due course, abandoning the diverse branches of study, in fact, abandoning all things (upon which worldly men set their hearts), one becomes pure in his desires, liberated from all restraints,[461] of cheerful soul, conversant with self, and of pure heart, one then wins esteem in this world and at last attains to heaven. That eternal region of the Grandsire which springs from Vedic penances, and which is concealed in a cave, can be won by only self-restraint.[462] He who takes pleasure in true knowledge, who has become enlightened, and who never injures any creature, has no fear of coming back to this world, far less, any fear in respect of the others.[463] There is only one fault in self-control. No second fault is noticeable in it. A person who has self-control is regarded by men as weak and imbecile. O thou of great wisdom, this attribute has only one fault. Its merits are many. By forgiveness (which is only another form of self-control), the man of self-control may easily acquire innumerable worlds. What need has a man of self-control for a forest? Similarly, O Bharata, of what use is the forest to him that has no self-control? That is a forest where the man of self-control dwells, and that is even a sacred asylum."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of Bhishma, Yudhishthira became highly gratified as if he had quaffed nectar. Again the king asked that foremost of virtuous men. That perpetuator of Kuru's race (questioned by his grandson) once more began to discourse cheerfully (on the topic raised).'" SECTION CLXI "'Bhishma said, "They that are possessed of knowledge say that everything has penance for its root. That foolish person who has not undergone penances does not meet with the rewards of even his own acts. The puissant Creator created all this universe with the aid of penances. After the same manner, the Rishis acquired the Vedas through the power of penances. It was by the aid of penances that the Grandsire created food, fruit and roots. It is by penances that persons crowned with ascetic success behold the three worlds, with rapt souls. Medicines and all antidotes to injurious substances, and the diverse acts (seen here), produce their intended results through the aid of penance. The accomplishment of all purposes depends upon penance. Whatever things there are that are apparently unattainable are sure to be won by the aid of penance. Without doubt, the Rishis obtained their sixfold divine attributes through penance. A person that drinks alcoholic stimulants, one that appropriates the possessions of others without their consent, one guilty of foeticide, one that violates one's preceptor's bed, are all cleansed by penance properly practised. Penances are of many kinds. They exhibit themselves through various outlets. Of all kinds of penances, however, that one may practise after abstaining from pleasure and enjoyment, abstention from food is the highest and best. The penance involved in abstention from food is superior, O king, to even compassion, truthfulness of speech, gifts, and restraining the senses. There is no act more difficult to accomplish than gift. There is no mode of life that is superior to serving one's mother. There is no creature superior to those that are conversant with the three Vedas. Similarly, renunciation constitutes the highest penance. People keep their senses under control for taking care of their virtue and heaven. In respect of such control over the senses as also in the acquisition of virtue, there is no penance higher than abstention from food. The Rishis, the gods, human beings, beasts, birds, and whatever other creatures there are, mobile or immobile, are all devoted to penances, and whatever success they win is won through penance. Thus it was through penance that the gods acquired their superiority These (luminaries in the firmament) that have got their shares of felicity, are always the results of penance. Without doubt, through penance the very status of godhead may be acquired."'" SECTION CLXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Brahmanas and Rishis and Pitris and the gods all applaud the duty of truth. I desire to hear of truth. Discourse to me upon it, O grandsire! What are the indications, O king, of truth? How may it be acquired? What is gained by practising truth, and how? Tell me all this." "'Bhishma said, "A confusion of the duties of the four orders is never applauded. That which is called Truth always exists in a pure and unmingled state in every one of those four orders. With those that are good, Truth is always a duty. Indeed, Truth is an eternal duty. One should reverentially bow unto Truth. Truth is the highest refuge (of all). Truth is duty; Truth is penance; Truth is Yoga; and Truth is the eternal Brahma. Truth has been said to be Sacrifice of a high order.[464] Everything rests upon Truth. I shall now tell thee the forms of Truths one after another, and its indications also in due order. It behoveth thee to hear also as to how Truth may be acquired. Truth, O Bharata, as it exists in all the world, is of thirteen kinds. The forms that Truth assumes are impartiality, self control, forgiveness, modesty, endurance, goodness, renunciation, contemplation, dignity, fortitude, compassion, and abstention from injury. These, O great monarch, are the thirteen forms of Truth. Truth is immutable, eternal, and unchangeable. It may be acquired through practices which do not militate against any of the other virtues. It may also be acquired through Yoga. When desire and aversion, as also lust and wrath, are destroyed, that attribute in consequence of which one is able to look upon one's own self and one's foe, upon one's good and one's evil, with an unchanging eye, is called impartiality. Self-control consists in never wishing for another man's possessions, in gravity and patience and capacity to allay the fears of others in respect to one's own self, and immunity from disease. It may be acquired through knowledge. Devotion to the practice of liberality and the observance of all duties are regarded by the wise as constituting goodwill. One comes to acquire universal goodwill by constant devotion to truth. As regards non-forgiveness and forgiveness, it should be stated that the attribute through which an esteemed and good man endures both what is agreeable and disagreeable, is said to be forgiveness. This virtue may well be acquired through the practice of truthfulness. That virtue in consequence of which an intelligent man, contented in mind and speech, achieves many good deeds and never incurs the censure of others, is called modesty. It is acquired through the aid of righteousness. That virtue which forgives for the sake of virtue and profit is called endurance. It is a form of forgiveness. It is acquired through patience, and its purpose is to attach people to one's self. The casting off of affection as also of all earthly possessions, is called renunciation. Renunciation can never be acquired except by one who is divested of anger and malice. That virtue in consequence of which one does good, with watchfulness and care, to all creatures is called goodness. It hath no particular shape and consists in the divestment of all selfish attachments. That virtue owing to which one remains unchanged in happiness and misery is called fortitude. That wise man who desires his own good always practises this virtue. One should always practise forgiveness and devotedness to truth. That man of wisdom who succeeds in casting off joy and fear and wrath, succeeds in acquiring fortitude. Abstention from injury as regards all creatures in thought, word, and deed, kindness, and gift, are the eternal duties of those who are good. These thirteen attributes, though apparently distinct from one another, have but one and the same form, viz., Truth. All these, O Bharata, support Truth and strengthen it. It is impossible, O monarch, to exhaust the merits of Truth. It is for these reasons that the Brahmanas, the Pitris, and the gods, applaud Truth. There is no duty which is higher than Truth, and no sin more heinous than untruth. Indeed, Truth is the very foundation of righteousness. For this reason, one should never destroy Truth. From Truth proceed gifts, and sacrifice with presents, as well as the threefold Agnihotras, the Vedas, and everything else that leads to righteousness. Once on a time a thousand horse-sacrifices and Truth were weighed against each other in the balance. Truth weighed heavier than a thousand horse-sacrifices."'" SECTION CLXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O thou of great wisdom, everything about that from which spring wrath and lust, O bull of Bharata's race, and sorrow and loss of judgment, and inclination to do (evil to others), and jealousy and malice and pride, and envy, and slander, and incapacity to bear the good of others, and unkindness, and fear. Tell me everything truly and in detail about all these." "'Bhishma said, "These thirteen vices are regarded as very powerful foes of all creatures. These, O Monarch, approach and tempt men from every side. They goad and afflict a heedless man or one that is insensate. Indeed, as soon as they see a person, they assail him powerfully like wolves jumping upon their prey. From these proceed all kinds of grief. From these proceed all kinds of sin. Every mortal, O foremost of men, should always know this. I shall now speak to thee of their origin, of the objects upon which they rest, and of the means of their destruction, O lord of the earth! Listen, first, O king, with undivided attention, to the origin of wrath truly and in detail. Anger springs from covetousness. It is strengthened by the faults of others. Through forgiveness it remains dormant, and through forgiveness it disappears. As regards lust, it springs from resolution. Indulgence strengthens it. When the man of wisdom resolutely turns away from it, it disappears and dies. Envy of others proceeds from between wrath and covetousness. It disappears in consequence of compassion and knowledge of self. In consequence of compassion for all creatures, and of that disregard for all worldly objects (that knowledge brings in its train), it disappears. It also arises from seeing the faults of other people. But in men of intelligence it quickly disappears in consequence of true knowledge.[465] Loss of judgment has its origin in ignorance and proceeds from sinfulness of habit. When the man whom this fault assails begins to take delight in (the company and counsels of) wise men, the vice at once and immediately hides its head. Men, O thou of Kuru's race, see conflicting scriptures. From that circumstance springs the desire for diverse kinds of action. When true knowledge has been gained, that desire is allayed. The grief of an embodied creature proceeds from affection which is awakened by separation. When, however, one learns that the dead do not return (whatever the grief one may feel for them), it subsides. Incapacity to bear other people's good proceeds from wrath and covetousness. Through compassion for every creature and in consequence of a disregard for all earthly objects, it is extinguished. Malice proceeds from the abandonment of truth and indulgence in wickedness. This vice, O child, disappears in consequence of one's waiting upon the wise and good. Pride, in men, springs from birth, learning, and prosperity. When those three, however, are truly known, that vice instantly disappears. Jealousy springs from lust and delight in low and vulgar people. In consequence of wisdom it is destroyed. From errors (of conduct) inconsistent with the ordinary course of men, and through disagreeable speeches expressive of aversion, slander takes its rise. It disappears, O king, upon a survey of the whole world. When the person that injures is powerful and the injured one is unable to avenge the injury, hate shows itself. It subsides, however, through kindliness. Compassion proceeds from a sight of the helpless and miserable persons with whom the world abounds. That sentiment disappears when one understands the strength of virtue.[466] Covetousness in all creatures spring from ignorance. Beholding the instability of all objects of enjoyment, it suffers destruction. It has been said that tranquillity of soul can alone subdue all these thirteen faults. All these thirteen faults stained the sons of Dhritarashtra. Thyself, always desirous of truth, hast conquered all of those vices in consequence of thy regard for seniors."'" SECTION CLXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "I know what benevolence is, in consequence of my observation of persons that are good. I do not, however, know them that are malevolent, nor the nature of their acts, O Bharata. Indeed, people avoid malevolent persons of cruel deeds even as they avoid thorns and pitfalls and fire. It is evident, O Bharata, that he who is malevolent is sure to burn (with misery) both here and hereafter. Therefore, O thou of Kuru's race, tell me what, in truth, the acts of such a person are." "'Bhishma said, "Malevolent persons always do wicked acts and feel an irresistible inclination for doing them. They slander others and incur obloquy themselves. They always regard themselves as cheated of what is their due. A malevolent person brags of his own acts of charity. He sees others with malicious eyes. He is very mean. He is deceitful, and full of cunning. He never gives others their dues. He is arrogant. He keeps evil company and is always boastful. He fears and suspects all with whom he comes into contact. He is of foolish understanding. He practises miserliness. He praises his associates. He cherishes an inordinate aversion and hatred for all recluses who have retired into the woods. He takes delight in injuring others. He is utterly regardless of distinguishing the merits and faults of others. He is full of lies. He is discontented. He is exceedingly covetous, and always acts cruelly. Such a person regards a virtuous and accomplished man as a pest, and thinking everybody else to be like himself never trusts any one. Such a person proclaims the faults of other people however unsuspected those faults might be. With regard to such faults, however, as similar to those that stain his own self, he does not refer to them even remotely, for the sake of the advantage he reaps from them. He regards the person that does him good as a simpleton whom he has cleverly deceived. He is filled with regret for having at any time made any gift of wealth even unto a benefactor. Know him for a malevolent and wicked person who quietly and alone takes comestibles and drinks and other kinds of food that are regarded choice, even when persons are standing by with wishful eyes. He on the other hand, who dedicates the first portion to Brahmanas and takes what remains, dividing it with friends and kinsmen, attains to great felicity in the next world and infinite happiness here. I have now, O chief of the Bharatas, said unto thee what the indications are of the wicked and malevolent man. Such a person should always be avoided by a man of wisdom."'" SECTION CLXV "'Bhishma said, "For enabling such pious and impoverished Brahmanas as have been robbed of their wealth (by thieves), as are engaged in the performance of sacrifices, as are well conversant with all the Vedas, and as are desirous of acquiring the merit of righteousness, to discharge their obligations to preceptors and the Pitris, and pass their days in reciting and studying the scriptures, wealth and knowledge, O Bharata, should be given.[467] Unto those Brahmanas that are not poor, only the Dakshina,[468] O best of the Bharatas, should be given. As regards those that have fallen away (in consequence of their sinful deeds) from the status of Brahman, uncooked food should be given to them outside the limits of the sacrificial altar.[469] The Brahmanas are the Vedas themselves and all the Sacrifices with large presents. Desirous of excelling one another, they always perform sacrifices, impelled by their virtuous inclinations. The king should, therefore, make presents of diverse kinds of valuable wealth unto them. That Brahmana who hath a sufficiency of stores for feeding his family for three or more years, deserves to drink the Soma.[470] If not withstanding the presence of a virtuous king on the throne, the sacrifice begun by anybody, especially by a Brahmana, cannot be completed for want of only a fourth part of the estimated expenses, then the king should, for the completion of that sacrifice, take away from his kinsmen the wealth of a Vaisya that is possessed of a large flock of cattle but that is averse from sacrifices and abstains from quaffing Soma. The Sudra has no competence for performing a sacrifice. The king should, therefore, take away (wealth for such a purpose) from a Sudra house of ours.[471] The king should also, without any scruple, take away from the kinsmen the wealth of him who does not perform sacrifices though possessed of a hundred kine and also of him who abstains from sacrifices though possessed of a thousand kine. The king should always publicly take away the wealth of such a person as does not practise charity, by acting in this way the king earns great merit. Listen again to me. That Brahmana who has been forced by want to go without six meals,[472] may take away without permission, according to the rule of a person that cares only for today without any thought of the morrow, only what is necessary for a single meal, from the husking tub or the field or the garden or any other place of even a man of low pursuits. He should, however, whether asked or unasked, inform the king of his act.[473] If the king be conversant with duty he should not inflict any punishment upon such a Brahmana. He should remember that a Brahmana becomes afflicted with hunger only through the fault of the Kshatriya.[474] Having ascertained a Brahmana's learning and behaviour, the king should make a provision for him, and protect him as a father protects the son of his own loins. On the expiry of every year, one should perform the Vaisvanara sacrifice (if he is unable to perform any animal or Soma sacrifice). They who are conversant with religion say that the practice of an act laid down in the alternative, is not destructive of virtue. The Viswedevas, the Sadhyas, the Brahmanas, and great Rishis, fearing death in seasons of distress, do not scruple to have recourse to such provisions in the scriptures as have been laid down in the alternative. That man, however, who while able to live according to the primary provision, betakes himself to the alternative, comes to be regarded as a wicked person and never succeeds in winning any felicity in heaven. A Brahmana conversant with the Vedas should never speak of his energy and knowledge to the king. (It is the duty of the king to ascertain it himself.) Comparing again the energy of a Brahmana with that of the king, the former will always be found to be superior to the latter. For this reason the energy of the Brahmanas can scarcely be borne or resisted by a king. The Brahmana is said to be creator, ruler, ordainer, and god. No word of abuse, no dry speeches, should be addressed to a Brahmana. The Kshatriya should cross all his difficulties by the aid of the might of his arms. The Vaisya and the Sudra should conquer their difficulties by wealth; the Brahmana should do so by Mantras and homa. None of these, viz., a maiden, a youthful woman, a person unacquainted with mantras, an ignorant guy, or one that is impure, is competent to pour libations on the sacrificial fire. If any of these do so, he or she is sure to fall into hell, with him for whom they act. For this reason, none but a Brahmana, conversant with the Vedas and skilled in all sacrifices should become the pourer of sacrificial libations. They who are conversant with the scriptures say that the man who, having kindled the sacrificial fire, does not give away the dedicated food as Dakshina, is not the kindler of a sacrificial fire. A person should, with his senses under control, and with proper devotion, do all the acts of merit (indicated in the scriptures). One should never worship the deities in sacrifices in which no Dakshina is given. A sacrifice not completed with Dakshina, (instead of producing merit) brings about the destruction of one's children, animals, and heaven. Such a sacrifice destroys also the senses, the fame, the achievements and the very span of life, that one has. Those Brahmanas that lie with women in their season, or who never perform sacrifices, or whose families have no members conversant with the Vedas, are regarded as Sudras in act. That Brahmana who, having married a Sudra girl, resides for twelve continuous years in a village has only a well for its water supply, becomes a Sudra in act. That Brahmana who summons to his bed an unmarried maiden, or suffers a Sudra, thinking him worthy of respect, to sit upon the same carpet with him, should sit on a bed of dry grass behind some Kshatriya or Vaisya and give him respect in that fashion.[475] It is in this manner that he can be cleansed. Listen, O king, to my words on this subject. The sin that a Brahmana commits in a single night by respectfully serving a member of a lower order or by sporting with him in the same spot or on the same bed, is cleansed by observing the practice of sitting behind a Kshatriya or a Vaisya on a bed of dry grass for three continuous years. A falsehood spoken in jest is not sinful; nor one that is spoken to a woman, O king, nor one that is spoken on an occasion of marriage; nor one spoken for benefiting one's preceptor; nor one spoken for saving one's own life. These five kinds of falsehood in speech, it has been said, are not sinful. One may acquire useful knowledge from even a person of low pursuits, with devotion and reverence. One may take up gold, without any scruple, from even an unclean place. A woman that is the ornament of her sex may be taken (for wife) from even a vile race. Amrita, if extracted from poison, may be quaffed; women, jewels and other valuables, and water, can never, according to the scriptures, be impure or unclean. For the benefit of Brahmanas and kine, and on occasions of transfusion of castes, even a Vaisya may take up weapons for his own safety. Drinking alcoholic liquors, killing a Brahmana, and the violation of the preceptor's bed, are sins that, if committed consciously, have no expiation. The only expiation laid down for them is death. The same may be said of stealing gold and the theft of a Brahmana's property. By drinking alcoholic liquors, by having congress with one with whom congress is prohibited, by mingling with a fallen person, and (a person of any of the other three orders) by having congress with a Brahmani, one becomes inevitably fallen. By mixing with a fallen person for one whole year in such matters as officiation in sacrifices and teaching sexual congress, one becomes fallen. One, however, does not become so by mixing with a fallen person in such matters as riding on the same vehicle, sitting on the same seat, and eating in the same line. Excluding the five grave sins that have been mentioned above, all other sins have expiations provided for them. Expiating those sins according to the ordinances laid down for them, one should not again indulge in them. In the case of those who have been guilty of the first three of these five sins, (viz., drinking alcoholic liquors, killing a Brahmana, and violation of the preceptor's bed), there is no restriction for their (surviving) kinsmen about taking food and wearing ornaments, even if their funeral rites remain unperformed when they die. The surviving kinsmen should make no scruple about such things on such occasions. A virtuous man should, in the observance of his duties, discard his very friends and reverend seniors. In fact, until they perform expiation, they that are virtuous should not even talk with those sinners. A man that has acted sinfully destroys his sin by acting virtuously afterwards and by penances. By calling a thief a thief, one incurs the sin of theft. By calling a person a thief who, however, is not a thief one incurs a sin just double the sin of theft. The maiden who suffers her virginity to be deflowered incurs three-fourths of the sin of Brahmanicide, while the man that deflowers her incurs a sin equal to a fourth part of that of Brahmanicide. By slandering Brahmanas or by striking them, one sinks in infamy for a hundred years. By killing a Brahmana one sinks into hell for a thousand years. No one, therefore, should speak ill of a Brahmana or slay him. If a person strikes a Brahmana with a weapon, he will have to live in hell for as many years as the grains of dust that are soaked by the blood flowing from the wounded. One guilty of foeticide becomes cleansed if he dies of wounds received in battle fought for the sake of kine and Brahmanas. He may also be cleansed by casting his person on a blazing fire.[476] A drinker of alcoholic liquors becomes cleansed by drinking hot alcohol. His body being burnt with that hot drink, he is cleansed through death in the other world.[477] A Brahmana stained by such a sin obtains regions of felicity by such a course and not by any other. For violating the bed of a preceptor, the wicked-souled and sinful wretch becomes cleansed by the death that results from embracing a heated female figure of iron. Or, cutting off his organ and testicles and bearing them in his hands, he should go on in a straight course towards the south-west and then cast off his life. Or, by meeting with death for the sake of benefiting a Brahmana, he may wash off his sin. Or, after performing a horse-sacrifice or a cow-sacrifice or an Agnishtoma, he may regain esteem both here and hereafter. The slayer of a Brahmana should practise the vow of Brahmacharya for twelve years and devoting himself to penances, wander, holding in his hands the skull of the slain all the time and proclaiming his sin unto all. He should even adopt such a course, devoted to penance and leading the life of an ascetic. Even such is the expiation provided for one who slays a woman quick with child, knowing her condition. The man who knowingly slays such a woman incurs double the sin that follows from Brahmanicide. A drinker of alcoholic liquor should live on frugal fare, practising Brahmacharya vows, and sleep on the bare ground, and perform, for more than three years the sacrifice next to the Agnishtoma. He should then make a present of a thousand kine with one bull (unto a good Brahmana). Doing all this, he would regain his purity. Having slain a Vaisya one should perform such a sacrifice for two years and make a present of a hundred kine with one bull. Having slain a Sudra, one should perform such a sacrifice for one year and make a present of a hundred kine with one bull. Having slain a dog or bear or camel, one should perform the same penance that is laid down for the slaughter of a Sudra. For slaying a cat, a chasa, a frog, a crow, a reptile, or a rat, it has been said, one incurs the sin of animal slaughter, O king! I shall now tell thee of other kinds of expiations in their order. For all minor sins one should repent or practise some vow for one year. For congress with the wife of a Brahmana conversant with the Vedas, one should for three years practise the vow of Brahmacharya, taking a little food at the fourth part of the day. For congress with any other woman (who is not one's wife), one should practise similar penance for two years. For taking delight in a woman's company by sitting with her on the same spot or on the same seat, one should live only on water for three days. By doing this he may cleanse himself of his sin. The same is laid down for one who befouls a blazing fire (by throwing impure things on it). He who without adequate cause, casts off his sire or mother or preceptor, surely becomes fallen, O thou of Kuru's race, as the conclusion is of the scriptures. Only food and clothes should be given, as the injunction is, unto a wife guilty of adultery or one confined in a prison. Indeed, the vows that are laid down for a male person guilty of adultery should be caused to be observed by also a woman who is guilty of the same. That woman who abandoning a husband of a superior caste, has congress with a vile person (of a lower order), should be caused by the king to be devoured by dogs in a public place in the midst of a large concourse of spectators.[478] A wise king should cause the male person committing adultery under such circumstances to be placed upon a heated bed of iron and then, placing faggots underneath, burn the sinner thereon. The same punishment, O king, is provided for the woman that is guilty of adultery. The wicked sinner who does not perform expiation within a year of the commission of the sin incurs demerit that is double of what attaches to the original sin. One who associates with such a person for two years must wander over the earth, devoting himself to penances and living upon eleemosynary charity. One associating with a sinner for four years should adopt such a mode of life for five years. If a younger brother weds before his elder brother, then the younger brother, the elder brother and the woman that is married, all three, in consequence of such wedding, become fallen. All of them should observe the vows prescribed for a person who has neglected his sacrificial fire, or practise the vow of Chandrayana for a month, or some other painful vow, for cleansing themselves of their sin. The younger brother, wedding, should give his wife unto his unmarried elder brother. Afterwards, having obtained the permission of the elder brother, the younger brother may take back his wife. By such means may all three be cleansed of their sin. By slaying animals save a cow, the slayer is not stained. The learned know that man has dominion over all the lower animals. A sinner, holding in his hand a yak-tail and an earthen pot, should go about, proclaiming his sin. He should every day beg of only seven families, and live upon what may be thus obtained. By doing this for twelve days he may be cleansed of his sin. He who becomes unable to bear in his hand the yak-tail while practising this vow, should observe the vow of mendicancy (as stated above) for one whole year. Amongst men such expiation is the best. For those that are able to practise charity, the practice of charity has been laid down in all such cases. Those who have faith and virtue may cleanse themselves by giving away only one cow. One who eats or drinks the flesh, ordure, or urine, of a dog, a boar, a man, a cock, or a camel must have his investiture of the sacred thread re-performed. If a Soma-drinking Brahmana inhales the scent of alcohol from the mouth of one that has drunk it, he should drink warm water for three days or warm milk for the same period. Or, drinking warm water for three days he should live for that period upon air alone. These are the eternal injunctions laid down for the expiation of sin, especially for a Brahmana who has committed these sins through ignorance and want of judgment."'" SECTION CLXVI "Vaisampayana said, 'Upon the completion of this discourse, Nakula who was an accomplished swordsman thus questioned the Kuru grandsire lying on his bed of arrows.' "'Nakula said, "The bow, O grandsire, is regarded as the foremost of weapons in this world. My mind, however, inclines towards the sword, since when the bow, O king, is cut off or broken, when steeds are dead or weakened, a good warrior, well trained in the sword, can protect himself by means of his sword.[479] A hero armed with the sword can, single handed, withstand many bowmen, and many antagonists armed with maces and darts. I have this doubt, and I feel curious to know the truth. Which, O king, is really the foremost of weapons in all battles? How was the sword first created and for what purpose? Who also was the first preceptor in the weapon? Tell me all this, O grandsire."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of the intelligent son of Madri, the virtuous Bhishma, the complete master of the science of the bow, stretched upon his bed of arrows, made this answer fraught with many refined words of delightful import, melodious with vowels properly placed, and displaying considerable skill, unto the high-souled Nakula, that disciple of Drona, endued with skilful training. "'Bhishma said, "Hear the truth, O son of Madri, about what thou hast asked me. I am excited by this question of thine, like a hill of red-chalk.[480] In ancient times the universe was one vast expanse of water, motionless and skyless, and without this earth occupying any space in it. Enveloped in darkness, and intangible, its aspect was exceedingly awful. Utter silence reigning all over, it was immeasurable in extent. In his own proper time the Grandsire (of the universe) took his birth. He then created the wind and fire, and the sun also of great energy. He also created the sky, the heavens, the nether regions, earth, the directions, the firmament with the moon and the stars, the constellations, the planets, the year, the seasons, the months, the two fortnights (lighted and dark) and the smaller divisions of time. The divine Grandsire then, assuming a visible form, begot (by power of his will) some sons possessed of great energy. They are the sages Marichi, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Vasishtha, Angiras, and the mighty and puissant lord Rudra, and Prachetas. The last begat Daksha, who in his turn, begat sixty daughters. All those daughters were taken by regenerate sages for the object of begetting children upon them. From them sprang all the creatures of the universe, including the gods, Pitris, Gandharvas, Apsaras, diverse kinds of Rakshasas, birds and animals and fishes, monkeys, great snakes, and diverse species of fowl that range the air or sport on the water, and vegetables, and all beings that are oviparous or viviparous or born of filth. In this way the whole universe consisting of mobile and immobile creatures sprang into existence. The universal Grandsire, having thus evoked into existence all mobile and immobile creatures, then promulgated the eternal religion laid down in the Vedas. That religion was accepted by the gods, with their preceptors, priests, the Adityas, the Vasus, the Rudras, the Sadhyas, the Maruts, the Aswins, Bhrigu, Atri, Angiras, the Siddhas, Kasyapa rich in penances, Vasishtha, Gautama, Agastya, Narada, Parvata, the Valikhilya Rishis, those other Rishis known under the names of Prabhasas, the Sikatas, the Ghritapas, the Somavayavyas, the Vaiswanaras, Marichipas, the Akrishtas, the Hansas, those born of Fire, the Vanaprasthas, and the Prasnis. All of them lived in obedience to Brahman. The foremost of the Danavas, however, setting at light the commands of the Grandsire, and yielding to wrath and covetousness, began to cause the destruction of righteousness. They were Hiranyakasipu, and Hiranyaksha, and Virochana, and Samvara, and Viprachitti, and Prahlada, and Namuchi, and Vali. These and many other Daityas and Danavas, transcending all restraints of duty and religion, sported and took delight in all kinds of wicked acts. Regarding themselves equal in point of birth with the gods, they began to challenge them and the sages of pure behaviour. They never did any good to the other creatures of the universe or showed compassion for any of them. Disregarding the three well-known means, they began to persecute and afflict all creatures by wielding only the rod of chastisement. Indeed, those foremost of Asuras, filled with pride, forsook every friendly intercourse with other creatures. Then the divine Brahman, accompanied by the regenerate sages, proceeded to a delightful summit of Himavat, extending for a hundred Yojanas in area, adorned with diverse kinds of jewels and gems, and upon whose surface the stars seemed to rest like so many lotuses on a lake. On that prince of mountains, O sire, overgrown with forests of flowering trees, that foremost of the gods, viz., Brahman, stayed for some time for accomplishing the business of the world. After the lapse of a thousand years, the puissant lord made arrangements for a grand sacrifice according to the ordinances laid down in the scriptures. The sacrificial altar became adorned with Rishis skilled in sacrifice and competent to perform all acts appertaining thereto, with faggots of sacrificial fuel, and with blazing fires. And it looked exceedingly beautiful in consequence of the sacrificial plates and vessels all made of gold. All the foremost ones among the gods took their seats on it. The platform was further adorned with Sadasyas all of whom were high regenerate Rishis. I have heard from the Rishis that soon something very awful occurred in that sacrifice. It is heard that a creature sprang (from the sacrificial fire) scattering the flames around him, and whose splendour equalled that of the Moon himself when he rises in the firmament spangled with stars. His complexion was dark like that of the petals of the blue lotus. His teeth were keen. His stomach was lean. His stature was tall. He seemed to be irresistible and possessed of exceeding energy. Upon the appearance of that being, the earth trembled. The Ocean became agitated with high billows and awful eddies. Meteors foreboding great disasters shot through the sky. The branches of trees began to fall down. All the points of the compass became unquiet. Inauspicious winds began to blow. All creatures began to quake with fear every moment. Beholding that awful agitation of the universe and that Being sprung from the sacrificial fire, the Grandsire said these words unto the great Rishis, the gods, and the Gandharvas. 'This Being was thought of by me. Possessed of great energy, his name is Asi (sword or scimitar). For the protection of the world and the destruction of the enemies of the gods, I have created him.' That being then, abandoning the form he had first assumed, took the shape of a sword of great splendour, highly polished, sharp-edged, risen like the all-destructive Being at the end of the Yuga. Then Brahman made over that sharp weapon to the blue-throated Rudra who has for the device on his banner the foremost of bulls, for enabling him to put down irreligion and sin. At this, the divine Rudra of immeasurable soul, praised by the great Rishis, took up that sword and assumed a different shape. Putting forth four arms, he became so tall that though standing on the earth he touched the very sun with his head. With eyes turned upwards and with every limb extended wide, he began to vomit flames of fire from his mouth. Assuming diverse complexions such as blue and white and red, wearing a black deer-skin studded with stars of gold, he bore on his forehead a third eye that resembled the sun in splendour. His two other eyes, one of which was black and the other tawny, shone very brightly. The divine Mahadeva, the bearer of the Sula, the tearer of Bhaga's eyes, taking up the sword whose splendour resembled that of the all-destructive Yuga fire, and wielding a large shield with three high bosses which looked like a mass of dark clouds adorned with flashes of lightning, began to perform diverse kinds of evolutions. Possessed of great prowess, he began to whirl the sword in the sky, desirous of an encounter. Loud were the roars he uttered, and awful the sound of his laughter. Indeed, O Bharata, the form then assumed by Rudra was exceedingly terrible. Hearing that Rudra had assumed that form for achieving fierce deeds, the Danavas, filled with joy, began to come towards him with great speed, showering huge rocks upon him as they came, and blazing brands of wood, and diverse kinds of terrible weapons made of iron and each endued with the sharpness of a razor. The Danava host, however, beholding that foremost of all beings, the indestructible Rudra, swelling with might, became stupefied and began to tremble. Although Rudra was alone and single-handed, yet so quickly did he move on the field of battle with the sword in his arm that the Asuras thought there were a thousand similar Rudras battling with them. Tearing and piercing and afflicting and cutting and lopping off and grinding down, the great god moved with celerity among the thick masses of his foes like forest conflagration amid heaps of dry grass spread around. The mighty Asuras, broken by the god with the whirls of his sword, with arms and thighs and chests cut off and pierced, and with heads severed from their trunks, began to fall down on the earth. Others among the Danavas, afflicted with strokes of the sword, broke and fled in all directions, cheering one another as they fled. Some penetrated into the bowels of the earth; others got under the cover of mountains. Some went upwards; others entered the depths of the sea. During the progress of that dreadful and fierce battle, the earth became miry with flesh and blood and horrible sights presented themselves on every side. Strewn with the fallen bodies of Danavas covered with blood, the earth looked as if overspread with mountain summits overgrown with Kinsukas. Drenched with gore, the earth looked exceedingly beautiful, like a fair-complexioned lady intoxicated with alcohol and attired in crimson robes. Having slain the Danavas and re-established Righteousness on earth, the auspicious Rudra cast off his awful form and assumed his own beneficent shape. Then all the Rishis and all the celestials adored that god of gods with loud acclamations wishing him victory. The divine Rudra, after this, gave the sword, that protector of religion, dyed with the blood of Danavas, unto Vishnu with due adorations. Vishnu gave it unto Marichi. The divine Marichi gave it unto all the great Rishis. The latter gave it to Vasava. Vasava gave it to the Regents of the world. The Regents, O son, gave that large sword to Manu the son of Surya. At the time, of giving it unto Manu, they said, 'Thou art the lord of all men. Protect all creatures with this sword containing religion within its womb. Duly meting out chastisement unto those that have transgressed the barriers of virtue for the sake of the body or the mind, they should be protected conformably to the ordinances but never according to caprice. Some should be punished with wordy rebukes, and with fines and forfeitures. Loss of limb or death should never be inflicted for slight reasons. These punishments, consisting of wordy rebukes as their first, are regarded as so many forms of the sword. These are the shapes that the sword assumes in consequence of the transgressions of persons under the protection (of the king).'[481] In time Manu installed his own son Kshupa in the sovereignty of all creatures, and gave him the sword for their protection. From Kshupa it was taken by Ikshvaku, and from Ikshvaku by Pururavas. From Pururavas it was taken by Ayus, and from Ayus by Nahusha. From Nahusha it was taken by Yayati, and from Yayati by Puru. From Puru it was taken by Amurtarya. From Amurtarya it descended to the royal Bhumisaya. From Bhumisaya it was taken by Dushmanta's son Bharata. From Bharata, O monarch, it was taken by the righteous Ailavila. From Ailavila it was taken by king Dhundumara. From Dhundumara it was taken by Kamvoja, and from Kamvoja it was taken by Muchukunda. From Muchukunda it was taken by Marutta, and from Marutta by Raivata. From Raivata it was taken by Yuvanaswa, and from Yuvanaswa by Raghu. From Raghu it was taken by the valiant Harinaswa. From Harinaswa the sword was taken by Sunaka and from Sunaka by the righteous-souled Usinara. From the last it was taken by the Bhojas and the Yadavas. From the Yadus it was taken by Sivi. From Sivi it descended to Pratardana. From Pratardana it was received by Ashtaka, and from Ashtaka by Prishadaswa. From Prishadaswa it was received by Bharadwaja, and from the last by Drona. After Drona it was taken by Kripa. From Kripa that best of swords has been obtained by thee with thy brothers. The constellation under which the sword was born is Krittika. Agni is its deity, and Rohini is its Gotra.[482] Rudra is its high preceptor. The sword has eight names which are not generally known. Listen to me as I mention them to you. If one mentions these, O son of Pandu, one may always win victory. Those names then are Asi, Vaisasana, Khadga, sharp-edged, difficult of acquisition, Sirgarbha, victory, and protector of righteousness. Of all weapons, O son of Madravati, the sword is the foremost. The Puranas truly declare that it was first wielded by Mahadeva. As regards the bow, again, O chastiser of foes, it was Prithu who first created it. It was with the aid of this weapon that that son of Vena, while he governed the earth virtuously for many years, milked her of crops and grain in profusion. It behoveth thee, O son of Madri, to regard what the Rishis have said, as conclusive proof. All persons skilled in battle should worship the sword. I have now told thee truly the first portion of thy query, in detail, about the origin and creation of the sword, O bull of Bharata's race! By listening to this excellent story of the origin of the sword, a man succeeds in winning fame in this world and eternal felicity in the next."'" SECTION CLXVII "Vaisampayana said, 'When Bhishma, after having said this, became silent, Yudhishthira (and the others) returned home. The king addressing his brothers with Vidura forming the fifth, said, "The course of the world rests upon Virtue, Wealth, and Desire. Amongst these three, which is the foremost, which the second, and which the last, in point of importance? For subduing the triple aggregate (viz., lust, wrath, and covetousness), upon which of the first three (viz., Virtue, Wealth, and Desire) should the mind be fixed? It behoveth you all to cheerfully answer this question in words that are true." Thus addressed by the Kuru chief, Vidura, who was conversant with the science of Profit, with the course of the world, and with truth (that concerns the real nature of things), and possessed of great brilliancy of intellect, spoke first these words, recollecting the contents of the scriptures.' "'Vidura said, "Study of the various scriptures, asceticism, gift, faith, performance of sacrifices, forgiveness, sincerity of disposition, compassion, truth, self-restraint, these constitute possessions of Virtue. Do thou adopt Virtue. Let not thy heart ever turn away from it. Both Virtue and Profit have their roots in these. I think that all these are capable of being included in one term. It is by Virtue that the Rishis have crossed (the world with all its difficulties). It is upon Virtue, that all the worlds depend (for their existence). It is by Virtue that the gods attained to their position of superiority. It is upon Virtue that Profit or Wealth rests. Virtue, O king, is foremost in point of merit. Profit is said to be middling. Desire, it is said by the wise, is the lowest of the three. For this reason, one should live with restrained soul, giving his attention to Virtue most. One should also behave towards all creatures as he should towards himself."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After Vidura had finished what he had to say, Pritha's son Arjuna, well skilled in the science of Profit, and conversant also with the truths of both Virtue and Profit, urged on (by the drift of Yudhishthira's question), said these words.' "'Arjuna said, "This world, O king, is the field of action. Action, therefore, is applauded here. Agriculture, trade, keep of cattle, and diverse kinds of arts, constitute what is called Profit. Profit, again, is the end of all such acts. Without Profit or Wealth, both Virtue and (the objects of) Desire cannot be won. This is the declaration of the Sruti. Even persons of uncleansed souls, if possessed of diverse kinds of Wealth, are able to perform the highest acts of virtue and gratify desires that are apparently difficult of being gratified. Virtue and Desire are the limbs of Wealth as the Sruti declares. With the acquisition of Wealth, both Virtue and the objects of Desire may be won. Like all creatures worshipping Brahman, even persons of superior birth worship a man possessed of Wealth. Even they that are attired in deer-skins and bear matted locks on their heads, that are self-restrained, that smear their bodies with mire, that have their senses under complete control, even they that have bald heads and that are devoted Brahmacharins, and that live separated from one another, cherish a desire for Wealth. Others attired in yellow robes, bearing long beards, graced with modesty, possessed of learning, contented, and freed from all attachments, become desirous of Wealth. Others, following the practices of their ancestors, and observant of their respective duties, and others desirous of heaven, do the same. Believers and unbelievers and those that are rigid practisers of the highest Yoga--all certify to the excellence of Wealth.[483] He is said to be truly possessed of Wealth who cherishes his dependants with objects of enjoyment, and afflicts his foes with punishments. Even this O foremost of intelligent men, is truly my opinion. Listen, however, now to these two (viz., Nakula and Sahadeva) who are about to speak."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'After Arjuna had ceased, the two sons of Madri, viz., Nakula and Sahadeva, said these words of high import.' "'Nakula and Sahadeva said, "Sitting or lying, walking and standing, one should strive after the acquisition of Wealth even by the most vigorous of means. If Wealth, which is difficult of acquisition and highly agreeable, be earned, the person that has earned it, without doubt, is seen to obtain all the objects of Desire. That Wealth which is connected with Virtue, as also that Virtue which is connected with Wealth, is certainly like nectar.[484] For this reason, our opinions are as follows. A person without wealth cannot gratify any desire; similarly, there can be no Wealth in one that is destitute of Virtue. He, therefore, who is outside the pale of both Virtue and Wealth, is an object of fear unto the world. For this reason, one should seek the acquisition of Wealth with a devoted mind, without disregarding the requirements of Virtue. They who believe in (the wisdom of) this saying succeed in acquiring whatever they desire. One should first practise Virtue; next acquire Wealth without sacrificing Virtue; and then seek the gratification of Desire, for this should be the last act of one who has been successful in acquiring Wealth."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'The twin sons of the Aswins, after having said these words, remained silent. Then Bhimasena began to say the following.' "'Bhimasena said, "One without Desire never wishes for Wealth. One without Desire never wishes for Virtue. One who is destitute of Desire can never feel any wish. For this reason, Desire is the foremost of all the three. It is under the influence of Desire that the very Rishis devote themselves to penances subsisting upon fruits, of living upon roots or air only. Others possessed of Vedic lore are engaged upon the Vedas and their branches or upon rites of faith and sacrificial acts, or upon making gifts or accepting them. Traders, agriculturists, keepers of cattle, artists and artisans, and those who are employed in rites of propitiation, all act from Desire. Some there are that dive unto the depths of the ocean, induced by Desire. Desire, indeed, takes various forms. Everything is pervaded by the principle of Desire. A man outside the pale of Desire never is, was, or will be, seen in this world. This, O king, is the truth. Both Virtue and Wealth are based upon Desire. As butter represents the essence of curds, even so is Desire the essence of Profit and Virtue. Oil is better than oil-seeds. Ghee is better than sour milk. Flowers and fruits are better than wood. Similarly, Desire is better than Virtue and Profit. As honeyed juice is extracted from flowers, so is Desire said to be extracted from these two. Desire is the parent of Virtue and Profit. Desire is the soul of these two. Without Desire the Brahmanas would never give either sweets or wealth unto Brahmanas. Without Desire the diverse kinds of action that are seen in the world would never have been seen. For these reasons, Desire is seen to be the foremost of the triple aggregate. Approaching beautiful damsels attired in excellent robes, adorned with every ornament, and exhilarated with sweet wines, do thou sport with them. Desire, O king, should be the foremost of the three with us. Reflecting upon the question to its very roots, I have come to this conclusion. Do not hesitate to accept this conclusion, O son of Dharma! These words of mine are not of hollow import. Fraught with righteousness as they are they will be acceptable to all good men. Virtue, Profit, and Desire should all be equally attended to. That man who devotes himself to only one of them is certainly not a superior person. He is said to be middling who devotes himself to only two of them. He, on the other hand, is the best of his species who attends to all the three." Having said these words in brief as also in detail, unto those heroes, Bhima possessed of wisdom, surrounded by friends, smeared with sandal-paste, and adorned with excellent garlands and ornaments, remained silent.[485] Then king Yudhishthira the just, that foremost of virtuous men, possessed of great learning, properly reflecting for a while upon the words spoken by all of them, and thinking all those speeches to be false philosophy, himself spoke as follows. "'Yudhishthira said, "Without doubt, all of you have settled conclusions in respect of the scriptures, and all of you are conversant with authorities. These words fraught with certainty that you have spoken have been heard by me. Listen now, with concentrated attention, to what I say unto you. He who is not employed in merit or in sin, he who does not attend to Profit, or Virtue, or Desire, who is above all faults, who regards gold and a brick-bat with equal eyes, becomes liberated from pleasure and pain and the necessity of accomplishing his purposes. All creatures are subject to birth and death. All are liable to waste and change. Awakened repeatedly by the diverse benefits and evils of life, all of them applaud Emancipation. We do not know, however, what Emancipation is. The self-born and divine Brahman has said that there is no Emancipation for him who is bound with ties of attachment and affection. They, however, that are possessed of learning seek Extinction. For this reason, one should never regard anything as either agreeable or disagreeable.[486] This view seems to be the best. No one in this world can act as he pleases. I act precisely as I am made (by a superior power) to act. The great Ordainer makes all creatures proceed as He wills. The Ordainer is Supreme. Know this, all of you.[487] No one can, by his acts, obtain what is unobtainable. That which is to be, takes place. Know this. And since he who has withdrawn himself from the triple aggregate may succeed in winning Emancipation, it seems, therefore, that Emancipation is productive of the highest good."' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having listened to all these foremost words fraught with reason and acceptable to the heart, Bhima and others were filled with delight and joining their hands, bowed unto that prince of Kuru's race. Indeed, those foremost of men, O king, having heard that speech of the monarch, well adorned with sweet letters and syllables, acceptable to the heart, and divested of dissonant sounds and words, began to applaud Yudhishthira highly. The high-souled son of Dharma, in return, possessed of great energy, praised his convinced auditors; and once more the king addressed the son of the foremost of rivers, possessed of a high soul, for enquiring about duties.'" SECTION CLXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou that art possessed of great wisdom, I shall ask thee a question. It behoveth thee, O enhancer of the happiness of the Kurus, to discourse to me fully upon it. What kind of men are said to be of gentle disposition? With whom may the most delightful friendship exist? Tell us also who are able to do good in the present time and in the end. I am of opinion that neither swelling wealth, nor relatives, nor kinsmen, occupy that place which well-wishing friends occupy. A friend capable of listening to beneficial counsels, and also of doing good, is exceedingly rare. It behoveth thee, O foremost of virtuous men, to discourse fully on these topics." "'Bhishma said, "Listen to me, O Yudhishthira, as I speak to thee, in detail, of those men with whom friendships may be formed and those with whom friendships may not be formed. One that is covetous, one that is pitiless, one that has renounced the duties of his order, one that is dishonest, one that is a knave, one that is mean, one that is of sinful practices, one that is suspicious of all, one that is idle, one that is procrastinating, one that is of a crooked disposition, one that is an object of universal obloquy, one that dishonours the life of his preceptor, one that is addicted to the seven well-known vices, one that casts off distressed friends, one possessed of a wicked soul, one that is shameless, one whose sight is ever directed towards sin, one that is an atheist, one that is a slanderer of the Vedas, one whose senses are not restrained, one that gives free indulgence to lust, one that is untruthful, one that is deserted by all, one that transgresses all restraints, one that is deceitful, one that is destitute of wisdom, one that is envious, one that is wedded to sin, one whose conduct is bad, one whose soul has not been cleansed, one that is cruel, one that is a gambler, one that always seeks to injure friends, one that covets wealth belonging to others, that wicked-souled wight who never expresses satisfaction with what another may give him according to the extent of his means, one that is never pleased with his friends, O bull among men, one that becomes angry on occasions that do not justify anger, one that is of restless mind, one that quarrels without cause, that sinful bloke who feels no scruple in deserting well-meaning friends, that wretch who is always mindful of his own interests and who, O king, quarrels with friends when those do him a very slight injury or inflict on him a wrong unconsciously, one who acts like a foe but speaks like a friend, one who is of perverse perceptions, one who is blind (to his own good), one who never takes delight in what is good for himself or others, should be avoided. One who drinks alcoholic liquors, one who hates others, one who is wrathful, one who is destitute of compassion, one who is pained at the sights of other's happiness, one who injures friends, one who is always engaged in taking the lives of living creatures, one who is ungrateful, one who is vile, should be avoided. Alliances (of friendship) should never be formed with any of them. Similarly, no alliance (of friendship) should be formed with him who is ever intent upon marking the faults of others. Listen now to me as I indicate the persons with whom alliances (of friendship) may be formed. They that are well-born, they that are possessed of eloquence and politeness of speech, they that are endued with knowledge and science, they that are possessed of merit and other accomplishments, they that are free from covetousness, they that are never exhausted by labour, they that are good to their friends, they that are grateful, they that are possessed of varied information and knowledge, they that are destitute of avarice, they that are possessed of agreeable qualities, they that are firm in truth, they that have subdued their senses, they that are devoted to athletic and other exercises, they that are of good families, they that are perpetuators of their races,[488] they that are destitute of faults, they that are possessed of fame, should be accepted by kings for forming alliances (of friendship) with them. They, again, O monarch, who become pleased and contented if one behaves with them according to the best of one's powers, they who never get angry on occasions that do not justify anger, they who never become displeased without sufficient cause, those persons who are well conversant with the science of Profit and who, even when annoyed, succeed in keeping their minds tranquil, they who devote themselves to the service of friends at personal sacrifice, they who are never estranged from friends but who continue unchanged (in their attachment) like a red blanket made of wool (which does not easily change its colour),[489] they who never disregard, from anger, those that are poor, they who never dishonour youthful women by yielding to lust and loss of judgment, they who never point out wrong paths to friends, they who are trustworthy, they who are devoted to the practice of righteousness, they who regard gold and brick-bats with an equal eye, they that adhere with firmness to friends and well-wishers, they who muster their own people and seek the accomplishment of the business of friends regardless of their own dignity and casting off all the marks of their own respectability, should be regarded as persons with whom alliances (of friendship) should be made. Indeed, the dominions of that king spread on every direction, like the light of the lord of the stars, who makes alliances of friendship with such superior men. Alliances should be formed with men that are well-practised in weapons, that have completely subdued their anger, that are always strong in battle and possessed of high birth, good behaviour, and varied accomplishments. Amongst those vicious men, O sinless one, that I have mentioned, the vilest, O king, are those that are ungrateful and that injure friends. Those persons of wicked behaviour should be avoided by all. This, indeed, is a settled conclusion." "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire to hear in detail this description. Tell me who they are that are called injurers of friends and ungrateful persons." "'Bhishma said, "I shall recite to thee an old story whose incidents occurred in the country, O monarch, of the Mlecchas that lies to the north. There was a certain Brahmana belonging to the middle country. He was destitute of Vedic learning. (One day), beholding a prosperous village, the man entered it from desire of obtaining charity.[490] In that village lived a robber possessed of great wealth, conversant with the distinctive features of all the orders (of men), devoted to the Brahmanas, firm in truth, and always engaged in making gifts. Repairing to the abode of that robber, the Brahmana begged for alms. Indeed, he solicited a house to live in and such necessaries of life as would last for one year. Thus solicited by the Brahmana, the robber gave him a piece of new cloth with its ends complete,[491] and a widowed woman possessed of youth. Obtaining all those things from the robber, the Brahmana became filled with delight. Indeed, Gautama began to live happily in that commodious house which the robber assigned to him. He began to hold the relatives and kinsmen of the female slave he had got from the robber chief. In this way he lived for many years in that prosperous village of hunters. He began to practise with great devotion the art of archery. Every day, like the other robbers residing there, Gautama, O king, went into the woods and slaughtered wild cranes in abundance. Always engaged in slaughtering living creatures, he became well-skilled in that act and soon bade farewell to compassion. In consequence of his intimacy with robbers he became like one of them. As he lived happily in that robber village for many months, large was the number of wild cranes that he slew. One day another Brahmana came to that village. He was dressed in rags and deer-skins and bore matted locks on his head. Of highly pure behaviour, he was devoted to the study of the Vedas. Of a humble disposition, frugal in fare, devoted to the Brahmanas, thoroughly conversant with the Vedas, and observant of Brahmacharya vows, that Brahmana had been a dear friend of Gautama and belonged to that part of the country from which Gautama had emigrated. In course of his wanderings, as already said, the Brahmana came to that robber village where Gautama had taken up his abode. He never accepted any food if given by a Sudra and, therefore, began to search for the house of a Brahmana there (for accepting the duties of hospitality).[492] Accordingly he wandered in every direction in that village teeming with robber-families. At last that foremost of Brahmanas came to the house owned by Gautama. It so happened that just at that time Gautama also, returning from the woods, was entering his abode. The two friends met. Armed with bow and sword, he bore on shoulders a load of slaughtered cranes, and his body was smeared with the blood that trickled down from the bag on his shoulders. Beholding that man who then resembled a cannibal and who had fallen away from the pure practices of the order of his birth, entering his house, the newly-arrived guest, recognising him, O king, said these words: 'What is this that thou art doing here through folly? Thou art a Brahmana, and the perpetuator of a Brahmana family. Born in a respectable family belonging to the middle country, how is it that thou becomest like a robber in thy practices? Recollect, O regenerate one, thy famous kinsmen of former times, all of whom were well-versed in the Vedas. Born in their race, alas, thou hast become a stigma to it. Awake thyself by thy own exertions. Recollecting the energy, the behaviour, the learning, the self-restraint, the compassion (that are thine by the order of thy birth), leave this thy present abode, O regenerate one!' Thus addressed by that well-meaning friend of his, O king, Gautama answered him in great affliction of heart, saying, 'O foremost of regenerate ones, I am poor. I am destitute also of a knowledge of the Vedas. Know, O best of Brahmanas, that I have taken up my abode here for the sake of wealth alone. At thy sight, however, I am blest today. We shall together set out of this place tomorrow. Do thou pass the night here with me. Thus addressed, the newly-arrived Brahmana, full of compassion as he was, passed the night there, refraining to touch anything. Indeed, though hungry and requested repeatedly the guest refused to touch any food in that house.'"'" SECTION CLXIX "'Bhishma said, "After that night had passed away and that best of Brahmanas had left the house, Gautama, issuing from his abode, began to proceed towards the sea, O Bharata! On the way he beheld some merchants that used to make voyages on the sea. With that caravan of merchants he proceeded towards the ocean. It so happened however, O king, that that large caravan was assailed, while passing through a valley, by an infuriated elephant. Almost all the persons were killed. Somehow escaping from that great danger, the Brahmana fled towards the north for saving his life not knowing whither he proceeded. Separated from the caravan and led far away from that spot, he began to wander alone in a forest, like Kimpurusha.[493] At last coming upon a road that led towards the ocean he journeyed on till he reached a delightful and heavenly forest abounding in flowering trees. It was adorned with mango trees that put forth flowers and fruits throughout the year. It resembled the very woods of Nandana (in heaven) and was inhabited by Yakshas and Kinnaras. It was also adorned with Salas and palmyras and Tamalas, with clusters of black aloes, and many large sandal trees. Upon the delightful tablelands that he saw there, fragrant with perfumes of diverse kinds, birds of the foremost species were always heard to pour forth their melodies. Other winged denizens of the air, called Bharundas, and having faces resembling those of human beings, and those called Bhulingas, and others belonging to mountainous regions and to the sea, warbled sweetly there. Gautama proceeded through that forest, listening, as he went, to those delightful and charming strains of nature's choristers. On his way he beheld a very delightful and level spot of land covered with golden sands and resembling heaven itself, O king, for its beauty. On that plot stood a large and beautiful banian with a spherical top. Possessed of many branches that corresponded with the parent tree in beauty and size, that banian looked like an umbrella set over the plain. The spot underneath that magnificent tree was drenched with water perfumed with the most fragrant sandal. Endued with great beauty and abounding in delicious flowers all around, the spot looked like the court of the Grandsire himself. Beholding that charming and unrivalled spot, abounding with flowering trees, sacred, and looking like the abode of a very celestial, Gautama became very much delighted. Arrived there, he sat himself down with a well-pleased heart. As he sat there, O son of Kunti, a delicious, charming, and auspicious breeze, bearing the perfume of many kinds of flowers, began to blow softly, cooling the limbs of Gautama and filling him with celestial pleasure, O monarch! Fanned by that perfumed breeze the Brahmana became refreshed, and in consequence of the pleasure he felt he soon fell asleep. Meanwhile the sun set behind the Asta hills. When the resplendent luminary entered his chambers in the west and the evening twilight came, a bird that was the foremost of his species, returned to that spot, which was his home, from the regions of Brahman. His name was Nadijangha and he was a dear friend of the creator. He was a prince of Cranes, possessed of great wisdom, and a son of (the sage) Kasyapa. He was also known extensively on earth by the name of Rajadharman. Indeed, he surpassed everyone on earth in fame and wisdom. The child of a celestial maiden, possessed of great beauty and learning, he resembled a celestial in splendour. Adorned with the many ornaments that he wore and that were as brilliant as the sun himself, that child of a celestial girl seemed to blaze with beauty. Beholding that bird arrived at that spot, Gautama became filled with wonder. Exhausted with hunger and thirst, the Brahmana began to cast his eyes on the bird from desire of slaying him. "'"Rajadharman said, 'Welcome, O Brahmana! By good luck have I got thee today in my abode. The sun is set. The evening twilight is come. Having come to my abode, thou art today my dear and excellent guest. Having received my worship according to the rites laid down in the scriptures, thou mayst go whither thou wilt tomorrow morning.'"'" SECTION CLXX "'Bhishma said, "Hearing these sweet words, Gautama became filled with wonder. Feeling at the same time a great curiosity, he eyed Rajadharman without being able to withdraw his gaze from him. "'"Rajadharman said, 'O Brahmana, I am the son of Kasyapa by one of the daughters of (the sage) Daksha. Possessed of great merits, thou art my guest today. Thou art welcome, O foremost of Brahmanas!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having offered him hospitality according to the rites laid down in the scriptures, the crane made an excellent bed of the Sala flowers that lay all around. He also offered him several large fishes caught from the deep waters of the Bhagirathi. Indeed, the son of Kasyapa offered, for the acceptance of his guest Gautama a blazing fire and certain large fishes. After the Brahmana had eaten and became gratified, the bird possessing wealth of penances began to fan him with his wings for driving off his fatigue. Seeing his guest seated at his ease, he asked him about his pedigree. The man answered, saying, 'I am a Brahmana known by the name of Gautama,' and then remained silent. The bird gave his guest a soft bed made of leaves and perfumed with many fragrant flowers. Gautama laid himself down on it, and felt great happiness. When Gautama had laid himself down, the eloquent son of Kasyapa, who resembled Yama himself in his knowledge of duties, asked him about the cause of his arrival there. Gautama answered him, saying, 'I am, O large-souled one, very poor. For earning wealth[494] I am desirous of going to the sea.' The son of Kasyapa cheerfully told him: 'It behoveth thee not to feel any anxiety. Thou shalt succeed, O foremost of Brahmanas, and shalt return home with property. The sage Vrihaspati hath spoken of four kinds of means for the acquisition of wealth, viz., inheritance, sudden accession due to luck or the favour of the gods, acquisition by labour, and acquisition through the aid or kindness of friends. I have become thy friend. I cherish good feelings towards thee. I shall, therefore, exert myself in such a way that thou mayst succeed in acquiring wealth.' The night passed away and morning came. Seeing his guest rise cheerfully from bed, the bird addressed him, saying, 'Go, O amiable one, along this very route and thou art sure to succeed. At the distance of about three Yojanas from this place, there is a mighty king of the Rakshasas. Possessed of great strength, his name is Virupaksha, and he is a friend of mine. Go to him, O foremost of Brahmanas! That chief, induced by my request, will, without doubt, give thee as much wealth as thou desirest.' Thus addressed, O king, Gautama cheerfully set out from that place, eating on the way, to his fill, fruits sweet as ambrosia. Beholding the sandal and aloe and birch trees that stood along the road, and enjoying their refreshing shade, the Brahmana proceeded quickly. He then reached the city known by the name of Meruvraja. It had large porches made of stone, and high walls of the same material. It was also surrounded on every side with a trench, and large pieces of rock and engines of many kinds were kept ready on the ramparts. He soon became known to the Rakshasa chief of great intelligence, O king, as a dear guest sent unto him by the chief's friend (the crane). The chief received Gautama very gladly. The king of the Rakshasas then, O Yudhishthira, commanded his attendants, saying, 'Let Gautama be soon brought hither from the gate.' At the command of the king, certain persons, quick as hawks, issued from the splendid palace of their ruler, and proceeding to the gate accosted Gautama. The royal messengers, O monarch, said unto that Brahmana, 'Come quickly, the king desires to see thee. Thou mayst have heard of the king of the Rakshasas, Virupaksha, by name, possessed of great courage. Even he is impatient of seeing thee. Come quickly and tarry not.' Thus addressed, the Brahmana, forgetting his toil in his surprise, ran with the messengers. Beholding the great affluence of the city, he became filled with wonder. Soon he entered the king's palace in the company of the messengers solicitous of obtaining a sight of the king of the Rakshasas."'" SECTION CLXXI "'Bhishma said, "Led into a spacious apartment, Gautama was introduced to the king of the Rakshasas. Worshipped by the latter (with the usual offerings), he took his seat on an excellent seat. The king asked him about the race of his birth and his practices, his study of the Vedas and his observance of the Brahmacharya vow. The Brahmana, however, without answering the other queries, only stated his name and race. The king having ascertained only the name and the race of his guest, and seeing that he was destitute of Brahmanic splendour and Vedic studies, next enquired about the country of his residence. "'"The Rakshasa said, 'Where is thy residence, O blessed one, and to what race does thy wife belong? Tell us truly, do not fear. Trust us without anxiety.' "'"Gautama said, 'I belong by birth to the Middle country. I live in a village of hunters. I have married a Sudra spouse who had been a widow. All this that I tell you is the truth.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The king then began to reflect as to what he should do. Indeed, the king began to think how he might succeed in acquiring merit. He said unto himself. 'This man is by birth a Brahmana. He is, again a friend of the high-souled Rajadharman. He has been sent to me by that son of Kasyapa. I must do what is agreeable to my friend. He is very intimate with me. Indeed, he is my brother, and a dear relative. He is truly a friend of my heart. On this day of the month of Kartika, a thousand Brahmanas of the foremost order are to be entertained in my house. This Gautama also shall be entertained with them and I shall give wealth unto him too. This is a sacred day. Gautama has come hither as a guest. The wealth that is to be given away (unto the Brahmanas) is ready. What is there then to think of?' Just about this time a thousand Brahmanas, possessed of great learning, with persons purified by baths and adorned (with sandalpaste and flowers) and attired in long robes of linen, came to the palace. The Rakshasa king Virupaksha, O monarch, received the guests, as they came, duly and according to the rites laid down in the scriptures. At the command of the king, skins were spread out for them. The royal servants then, O best of the Bharatas, placed mats of Kusa grass on the ground.[495] Those foremost of Brahmanas, having been duly worshipped by the king sat down on those seats. The Rakshasa chief once more worshipped his guests, as provided by the ordinance, with sesame seeds, green blades of grass, and water. Some amongst them were selected for representing the Viswedevas, the Pitris, and the deities of fire. These were smeared with sandal-paste, and flowers were offered unto them. They were also adored with other kinds of costly offerings. After such worship, every one of them looked as effulgent as the moon in the firmament. Then bright and polished plates of gold, adorned with engravings, and filled with excellent food prepared with ghee and honey, were given unto those Brahmanas. Every year (on the days of full moon) of the months of Ashadha and Magha, a large number of Brahmanas used to receive from the Rakshasa chief, after proper honours, the best kinds of food that they desired. Especially, on the day of full moon in the month of Kartika, after the expiry of autumn, the king used to give unto the Brahmanas much wealth of diverse kinds, including gold, silver, jewels, gems, pearls, diamonds of great value, stones of the lapis lazuli variety, deer-skins, and skins of the Ranku deer. Indeed, O Bharata, throwing a heap of wealth of many kinds for giving it away as Dakshina (unto his regenerate guests), the mighty Virupaksha, addressing those foremast of Brahmanas, said unto them, 'Take from these jewels and gems as much as ye wish and can hope to bear away.' And he also used to say unto them, O Bharata, these words: 'Taking those plates of gold and vessels which you have used for your dinner, go ye away, O foremost of Brahmanas.' When these words were uttered by the high-souled Rakshasa king (on the occasion of that particular feast), those bulls among Brahmanas took as much wealth as each desired. Worshipped with those costly jewels and gems, those best of Brahmanas, attired in excellent robes, became filled with delight. Once more, the Rakshasa king, having restrained the Rakshasas that had come to his palace from diverse lands, addressed those Brahmanas and said, 'This one day, ye regenerate ones, ye need have no fear from the Rakshasas here. Sport ye as ye wish, and then go away with speed.' The Brahmanas then, leaving that spot, went away in all directions with great speed. Gautama also, having taken up a heavy quantity of gold without any loss of time, went away. Carrying the burthen with difficulty, he reached that same banian (under which he had met the crane). He sat himself down, fatigued, toil worn, and hungry. While Gautama was resting there, that best of birds viz., Rajadharman, O king, came there. Devoted to friends, he gladdened Gautama by bidding him welcome. By flapping his wings he began to fan his guest and dispel his fatigue. Possessed of great intelligence, he worshipped Gautama, and made arrangements for his food. Having eaten and refreshed himself, Gautama began to think, 'Heavy is this load that I have taken of bright gold, moved by covetousness and folly. I have a long way to travel. I have no food by which to support life on my way. What should I do for supporting life?' Even these were his thoughts then. It so happened that even upon much thinking he failed to see any food which he could eat on the way. Ungrateful as he was, O tiger among men, even this was the thought that he then conceived, 'This prince of cranes, so large and containing a heap of flesh, stayeth by my side. Staying and bagging him, I shall leave this spot and go along with great speed.'"'" SECTION CLXXII "'Bhishma said, "There, under that banian, for the protection of his guest, the prince of birds had kindled and kept up a fire with high and blazing flames.[496] On one side of the fire, the bird slept trustfully. The ungrateful and wicked-souled wretch prepared to slay his sleeping host. With the aid of that blazing fire he killed the trustful bird, and having despatched him, became filled with delight, never thinking there was sin in what he did. Peeling off the feathers and the down, he roasted the flesh on that fire. Then taking it up with the gold he had brought, the Brahmana fled quickly from that spot. The next day, the Rakshasa king, Virupaksha, addressing his son, said, 'Alas, O son, I do not behold Rajadharman, that best of birds, today. Every morning he repairs to the regions of Brahman for adoring the Grandsire. While returning, he never goes home without paying me a visit. These two mornings and two nights have passed away without his having come to my abode. My mind, therefore, is not in peace. Let my friend be enquired after. Gautama, who came here, is without Vedic studies and destitute of Brahmanic splendour. He has found his way to the abode of my friend. I greatly fear, that worst of Brahmanas has slain Rajadharman. Of evil practices and wicked understanding, I read him through by the signs he showed. Without compassion, of cruel and grim visage, and wicked, that vilest of men is like a robber. That Gautama has gone to the abode of my friend. For this reason, my heart has become extremely anxious. O son, proceeding hence with great speed to the abode of Rajadharman, ascertain whether that pure-souled bird is still alive. Do not tarry.' Thus addressed by his sire, the prince, accompanied by other Rakshasas, proceeded with great speed. Arrived at the foot of that banian, he saw the remains of Rajadharman. Weeping with grief, the son of the intelligent king of the Rakshasas, ran with great speed and to the utmost of his power, for seizing Gautama. The Rakshasas had not to go far when they succeeded in catching the Brahmana and discovering the body of Rajadharman destitute of wings, bones, and feet. Taking the captive with them, the Rakshasas returned with great speed to Meruvraja, and showed the king the mutilated body of Rajadharman, and that ungrateful and sinning wretch, viz., Gautama. Beholding the remains of his friend the king, with his counsellors and priest, began to weep aloud. Indeed, loud was the voice of lamentation that was heard in his abode. The entire city of the Rakshasa king, men, women, and children, became plunged in woe. The king then addressed his son saying, 'Let this sinful wretch be slain. Let these Rakshasas here feast merrily on his flesh. Of sinful deeds, of sinful habits, of sinful soul, and inured to sin, this wretch, I think, should be slain by you.' Thus addressed by the Rakshasa king, many Rakshasas of terrible prowess expressed their unwillingness to eat the flesh of that sinner. Indeed, those wanderers of the night, addressing their king, said, 'Let this vilest of men be given away to the robbers.' Bending their heads to their king, they told him so, adding, 'It behoveth thee not to give us this sinful wretch for our food.' The king said unto them, 'Let it be so! Let this ungrateful wight be given to the robbers then without delay.' Thus addressed by him, the Rakshasas armed with lances and battle-axes, hacked that vile wretch into pieces and gave them away to the robbers. It so happened, however, that the very robbers refused to eat the flesh of that vile man. Though cannibals, O monarch, they would not eat an ungrateful person. For one that slays a Brahmana, for one that drinks alcohol, for one that steals, for one that has fallen away from a vow, there is expiation, O king. But there is no expiation for an ungrateful person. That cruel and vile man who injures a friend and becomes ungrateful, is not eaten by the very cannibals nor by the worms that feed on carrion."'" SECTION CLXXIII "'Bhishma said, "The Rakshasa king then caused a funeral pyre to be made for that prince of cranes and adorned it with jewels and gems, and perfumes, and costly robes. Setting fire to it with the body of that prince of birds, the mighty chief of the Rakshasas caused the obsequial rites of his friend to be performed according to the ordinance. At that time, the auspicious goddess Surabhi, the daughter of Daksha, appeared in the sky above the place where the pyre had been set up. Her breasts were full of milk.[497] From her mouth, O sinless monarch, froth mixed with milk fell upon the funeral pyre of Rajadharman. At this, the prince of cranes became revived. Rising up, he approached his friend Virupaksha, the king of the Rakshasas. At this time, the chief of the celestials himself came to the city of Virupaksha. Addressing the Rakshasa king, Indra said, 'By good luck, thou hast revived the prince of cranes.' The chief of the deities further recited to Virupaksha the old story of the curse denounced by the Grandsire upon that best of birds named Rajadharman. Addressing the king he said, 'Once on a time, O monarch, this prince of cranes absented himself from the region of Brahman (when his presence was expected). In wrath the Grandsire said unto this prince of birds, "Since this vile crane hath not presented himself today in my assembly, therefore, that wicked-souled one shall not soon die (so as to be able to leave the earth)." In consequence of these words of the Grandsire, the prince of cranes, though slain by Gautama, has come back to life, through the virtue of the nectar with which his body was drenched.' After Indra had become silent, Rajadharman, having bowed unto the chief of the celestials, said 'O first of gods, if thy heart be inclined towards me for grace, then let my dear friend Gautama be restored to life!' Hearing these words of his, Vasava, O foremost of men, sprinkled nectar over the Brahmana Gautama and restored him to life. The prince of cranes, approaching his friend Gautama, who still bore on his shoulders the load of gold (that he had got from the king of the Rakshasas) embraced him and felt great joy. Rajadharman, that prince of cranes, dismissing Gautama of sinful deeds, together with his wealth, returned to his own abode. At the due hour he repaired (the next day) to the Grandsire's region. The latter honoured the high-souled bird with such attentions as are shown to a guest. Gautama also, returning to his home in the village of the hunters, begot many sinful children upon his Sudra wife. A heavy curse was denounced upon him by the gods to the effect that having begotten, within a few years,[498] upon the body of his remarried wife many children that ungrateful sinner should sink into a terrible hell for many years. All this, O Bharata, was recited to me formerly by Narada. Recollecting the incidents of this grave story, O bull of Bharata's race, I have recited to thee all its details duly. Whence can an ungrateful person derive fame? Where is his place? Whence can he have happiness? An ungrateful person does not deserve to be trusted. One that is ungrateful can never escape. No person should injure a friend. He that injures a friend sinks into terrible and everlasting hell. Every one should be grateful and every one should seek to benefit his friends. Everything may be obtained from a friend. Honours may be obtained from friends.[499] In consequence of friends one may enjoy various objects of enjoyment. Through the exertions of friends, one may escape from various kinds of danger and distress. He that is wise would honour his friend with his best attentions. An ungrateful, shameless, and sinful wight should be shunned by those that are wise. One that injures his friends is a wretch of his race. Such a sinful wight is the vilest of men. I have thus told thee, O foremost of all virtuous men, what the characteristics are of that sinful wretch who is stained by ingratitude and who injures his friend. What else dost thou wish to hear?"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words spoken by the high-souled Bhishma, Yudhishthira, O Janamejaya, became highly gratified.'" SECTION CLXXIV (Mokshadharma Parva) "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O grandsire, discoursed upon the auspicious duties (of person in distress) connected with the duties of kings. It behoveth thee now, O king, to tell me those foremost of duties which belong to those who lead the (four) modes of life." "'Bhishma said, "Religion hath many doors. The observance of (the duties prescribed by) religion can never be futile. Duties have been laid down with respect to every mode of life. (The fruits of those duties are invisible, being attainable in the next world.) The fruits, however, of Penance directed towards the soul are obtainable in this world.[500] Whatever be the object to which one devotes oneself, that object, O Bharata, and nothing else, appears to one as the highest of acquisitions fraught with the greatest of blessings. When one reflects properly (one's heart being purified by such reflection), one comes to know that the things of this world are as valueless as straw. Without doubt, one is then freed from attachment in respect of those things. When the world, O Yudhishthira, which is full of defects, is so constituted, every man of intelligence should strive for the attainment of the emancipation of his soul." "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, by what frame of soul should one kill one's grief when one loses one's wealth, or when one's wife, or son, or sire, dies." "'Bhishma said, "When one's wealth is lost, or one's wife or son or sire is dead, one certainly says to oneself 'Alas, this is a great sorrow!' But then one should, by the aid of reflection, seek to kill that sorrow. In this connection is cited the old story of the speech that a regenerate friend of his, coming to Senajit's court, made to that king. Beholding the monarch agitated with grief and burning with sorrow on account of the death of his son, the Brahmana addressed that ruler of very cheerless heart and said these words, 'Why art thou stupefied? Thou art without any intelligence. Thyself an object of grief, why dost thou grieve (for others)? A few days hence others will grieve for thee, and in their turn they will be grieved for by others. Thyself, myself, and others who wait upon thee, O king, shall all go to that place whence all of us have come.' "'"Senajit said, 'What is that intelligence, what is that penance, O learned Brahmana, what is that concentration of mind, O thou that hast wealth of asceticism, what is that knowledge, and what is that learning, by acquiring which thou dost not yield to sorrow?' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Behold, all creatures,--the superior, the middling, and the inferior,--in consequence of their respective acts, are entangled in grief. I do not regard even my own self to be mine. On the other hand, I regard the whole world to be mine. I again think that all this (which I see) is as much mine as it belongs to others. Grief cannot approach me in consequence of this thought. Having acquired such an understanding, I do not yield either to joy or to grief. As two pieces of wood floating on the ocean come together at one time and are again separated, even such is the union of (living) creatures in this world. Sons, grandsons, kinsmen, relatives are all of this kind. One should never feel affection for them, for separation with them is certain. Thy son came from an invisible region. He has departed and become invisible. He did not know thee. Thou didst not know him. Who art thou and for whom dost thou grieve? Grieve arises from the disease constituted by desire. Happiness again results from the disease of desire being cured. From joy also springs sorrow, and hence sorrow arises repeatedly. Sorrow comes after joy, and joy after sorrow. The joys and sorrows of human beings are revolving on a wheel. After happiness sorrow has come to thee. Thou shalt again have happiness. No one suffers sorrow for ever, and no one enjoys happiness for ever. The body is the refuge of both sorrow and happiness.[501] Whatever acts an embodied creature does with the aid of his body, the consequence thereof he has to suffer in that body. Life springs with the springing of the body into existence. The two exist together, and the two perish together.[502] Men of uncleansed souls, wedded to worldly things by various bonds, meet with destruction like embankments of sand in water. Woes of diverse kinds, born of ignorance, act like pressers of oil-seeds, for assailing all creatures in consequence of their attachments. These press them like oil-seeds in the oil-making machine represented by the round of rebirths (to which they are subject). Man, for the sake of his wife (and others), commits numerous evil acts, but suffers singly diverse kinds of misery both in this and the next world. All men, attached to children and wives and kinsmen and relatives, sink in the miry sea of grief like wild elephants, when destitute of strength, sinking in a miry slough. Indeed, O lord, upon loss of wealth or son or kinsmen or relatives, man suffers great distress, which resembles as regards its power of burning, a forest conflagration. All this, viz., joy and grief, existence and non-existence, is dependent upon destiny. One having friends as one destitute of friends, one having foes as one destitute of foes, one having wisdom as one destitute of wisdom, each and every one amongst these, obtains happiness through destiny. Friends are not the cause of one's happiness. Foes are not the cause of one's misery. Wisdom is not competent to bring an accession of wealth; nor is wealth competent to bring an accession of happiness. Intelligence is not the cause of wealth, nor is stupidity the cause of penury. He only that is possessed of wisdom, and none else, understands the order of the world. Amongst the intelligent, the heroic, the foolish, the cowardly, the idiotic, the learned, the weak, or the strong, happiness comes to him for whom it is ordained. Among the calf, the cowherd that owns her, and the thief, the cow indeed belongs to him who drinks her milk.[503] They whose understanding is absolutely dormant, and they who have attained to that state of the mind which lies beyond the sphere of the intellect, succeed in enjoying happiness. Only they that are between the two classes, suffer misery.[504] They that are possessed of wisdom delight in the two extremes but not in the states that are intermediate. The sages have said that the attainment of any of these two extremes constitutes happiness. Misery consists in the states that are intermediate between the two.[505] They who have succeeded in attaining to real felicity (which samadhi can bring), and who have become free from the pleasures and pains of this world, and who are destitute of envy, are never agitated by either the accession of wealth or its loss. They who have not succeeded in acquiring that intelligence which leads to real felicity, but who have transcended folly and ignorance (by the help of a knowledge of the scriptures), give way to excessive joy and excessive misery. Men destitute of all notions of right or wrong, insensate with pride and with success over others, yield to transports of delight like the gods in heaven.[506] Happiness must end in misery. Idleness is misery; while cleverness (in action) is the cause of happiness. Affluence and prosperity dwell in one possessed of cleverness, but not in one that is idle. Be it happiness or be it misery, be it agreeable or be it disagreeable, what comes to one should be enjoyed or endured with an unconquered heart. Every day a thousand occasions for sorrow, and hundred occasions for fear assail the man of ignorance and folly but not the man that is possessed of wisdom. Sorrow can never touch the man that is possessed of intelligence, that has acquired wisdom, that is mindful of listening to the instructions of his betters, that is destitute of envy, and that is self-restrained. Relying upon such an understanding, and protecting his heart (from the influences of desire and the passions), the man of wisdom should conduct himself here. Indeed, sorrow is unable to touch him who is conversant with that Supreme Self from which everything springs and unto which everything disappears.[507] The very root of that for which grief, or heartburning, or sorrow is felt or for which one is impelled to exertion, should, even if it be a part of one's body, be cast off. That object, whatever it may be in respect of which the idea of meum is cherished, becomes a source of grief and heart-burning. Whatever objects, amongst things that are desired, are cast off, become sources of happiness. The man that pursues objects of desire meets with destruction in course of the pursuit. Neither the happiness that is derived from a gratification of the senses nor that great felicity which one may enjoy in heaven, approaches to even a sixteenth part of the felicity which arises from the destruction of all desires. The acts of a former life, right or wrong, visit, in their consequences, the wise and the foolish, the brave and the timid. It is even thus that joy and sorrow, the agreeable and the disagreeable, continually revolve (as on a wheel) among living creatures. Relying upon such an understanding, the man of intelligence and wisdom lives at ease. A person should disregard all his desires, and never allow his wrath to get the better of him. This wrath springs in the heart and grows there into vigour and luxuriance. This wrath that dwells in the bodies of men and is born in their minds, is spoken of by the wise as Death. When a person succeeds in withdrawing all his desires like a tortoise withdrawing all its limbs, then his soul, which is self-luminous, succeeds in looking into itself.[508] That object, whatever it may be, in respect of which the idea of meum is cherished, becomes a source of grief and heart-burning.[509] When a person himself feels no fear, and is feared by no one, when he cherishes no desire and no aversion, he is then said to attain to the state of Brahma. Casting off both truth and falsehood, grief and joy, fear and courage, the agreeable and the disagreeable, thou mayst become of tranquil soul. When a person abstains from doing wrong to any creature, in thought, word, or deed, he is then said to attain to a state of Brahma. True happiness is his who can cast off that thirst which is incapable of being cast off by the misguided, which does not decay with decrepitude, and which is regarded as a fatal disease. In this connection, O king, are heard the verses sung by Pingala about the manner in which she had acquired eternal merit even at a time that had been very unfavourable. A fallen woman of the name of Pingala, having repaired to the place of assignation, was denied the company of her lover through an accident. At that time of great misery, she succeeded in acquiring tranquillity of soul.' "'"Pingala said, 'Alas, I have for many long years lived, all the while overcome by frenzy, by the side of that Dear Self in whom there is nothing but tranquillity. Death has been at my door. Before this, I did not, however approach that Essence of Purity. I shall cover this house of one column and nine doors (by means of true Knowledge).[510] What woman is there that regards that Supreme Soul as her dear lord, even when He comes near?[511] I am now awake. I have been roused from the sleep of ignorance. I am no longer influenced by desire. Human lovers, who are really the embodied forms of hell, shall no longer deceive me by approaching me lustfully. Evil produces good through the destiny or the acts of a former life. Roused (from the sleep of ignorance), I have cast off all desire for worldly objects. I have acquired a complete mastery over my senses. One freed from desire and hope sleeps in felicity. Freedom from every hope and desire is felicity. Having driven off desire and hope, Pingala sleeps in felicity.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Convinced with these and other words uttered by the learned Brahmana, king Senajit (casting off his grief), experienced delight and became very happy."'" SECTION CLXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "Time, which is destructive of every created thing, is passing on.[512] Tell me, O grandsire, what is that good thing which should be sought." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O king, is cited the old narrative of a discourse between sire and son, O Yudhishthira! A certain Brahmana, O Partha, who was devoted to the study of the Vedas, got a very intelligent son who (for this) was called Medhavin.[513] One day, the son, well conversant with the truths of the religion of Emancipation, and acquainted also with the affairs of the world, addressed his sire devoted to the study of the Vedas. "'"The son said, 'What should a wise man do, O father, seeing that the period of human life is passing away so very quickly? O father, tell me the course of duties that one should perform, without omitting to mention the fruits. Having listened to thee, I desire to observe those duties.' "'"The sire said, 'O son, observing the Brahmacharya mode of life, one should first study the Vedas. He should then wish for children for rescuing his ancestors. Setting up his fire next, he should seek to perform the (prescribed) sacrifices according to due rites. At last, he should enter the forest for devoting himself to contemplation.' "'"The son said, 'When the world is thus surrounded on all sides and is thus assailed, and when such irresistible things of fatal consequences fall upon it, how can you say these words so calmly?' "'"The sire said, 'How is the world assailed? What is that by which it is surrounded? What, again, are those irresistible things of fatal consequences that fall upon it? Why dost thou frighten me thus?' "'"The son said, 'Death is that by which the world is assailed. Decrepitude encompasses it. Those irresistible things that come and go away are the nights (that are continually lessening the period of human life). When I know that Death tarries for none (but approaches steadily towards every creature), how can I pass my time without covering myself with the garb of knowledge?[514] When each succeeding night passing away lessens the allotted period of one's existence, the man of wisdom should regard the day to be fruitless. (When death is approaching steadily) who is there that would, like a fish in a shallow water, feel happy? Death comes to a man before his desires have been gratified. Death snatches away a person when he is engaged in plucking flowers and when his heart is otherwise set, like a tigress bearing away a ram. Do thou, this very day, accomplish that which is for thy good. Let not this Death come to thee. Death drags its victims before their acts are accomplished. The acts of tomorrow should be done today, those of the afternoon in the forenoon. Death does not wait to see whether the acts of its victim have all been accomplished or not. Who knows that Death will not come to him even today? In prime of age one should betake oneself to the practice of virtue. Life is transitory. If virtue be practised, fame here and felicity hereafter will be the consequences. Overwhelmed by ignorance, one is ready to exert oneself for sons and wives. Achieving virtuous or vicious acts, one brings them up and aggrandises them. Like a tiger bearing away a sleeping deer, Death snatches away the man addicted to the gratification of desire and engaged in the enjoyment of sons and animals. Before he has been able to pluck the flowers upon which he has set his heart, before he has been gratified by the acquisition of the objects of his desire, Death bears him away like a tiger bearing away its prey. Death overpowers a man while the latter is stilt in the midst of the happiness that accrues from the gratification of desire, and while, still thinking, "This has been done; this is to be done; this has been half-done." Death bears away the man, however designated according to his profession, attached to his field, his shop, or his home, before he has obtained the fruit of his acts. Death bears away the weak, the strong, the brave, the timid, the idiotic, and the learned, before any of these obtains the fruits of his acts. When death, decrepitude, disease, and sorrow arising from diverse causes, are all residing in thy body, how is it that thou livest as if thou art perfectly hale? As soon as a creature is born, Decrepitude and Death pursue him for (effecting) his destruction. All existent things, mobile and immobile, are affected by these two. The attachment which one feels for dwelling in villages and towns (in the midst of fellowmen) is said to be the very mouth of Death. The forest, on the other hand, is regarded as the fold within which the senses may be penned. This is declared by the Srutis.[515] The attachment a person feels for dwelling in a village or town (in the midst of men) is like a cord that binds him effectually. They that are good break that cord and attain to emancipation, while they that are wicked do not succeed in breaking them. He who never injures living creatures by thought, word, or deed, is never injured by such agencies as are destructive of life and property.[516] Nothing can resist the messengers (Disease and Decrepitude) of Death when they advance except Truth which devours Untruth. In Truth is immortality.[517] For these reasons one should practise the vow of Truth; one should devote oneself to a union with Truth; one should accept Truth for one's Veda; and restraining one's senses, one should vanquish the Destroyer by Truth. Both Immortality and Death are planted in the body. One comes to Death through ignorance and loss of judgment; while Immortality is achieved through Truth. I shall, therefore, abstain from injury and seek to achieve Truth, and transgressing the sway of desire and wrath, regard pleasure and pain with an equal eye, and attaining tranquillity, avoid Death like an immortal. Upon the advent of that season when the sun will progress towards the north, I shall restraining my senses, set to the performance of the Santi-sacrifice, the Brahma-sacrifice, the Mind-sacrifice, and the Work-sacrifice.[518] How can one like me worship his Maker in animal-sacrifices involving cruelty, or sacrifices of the body, such as Pisachas only can perform and such as produce fruits that are transitory?[519] That person whose words, thoughts, penances, renunciation, and yoga meditation, all rest on Brahma, succeeds in earning the highest good. There is no eye which is equal to (the eye of) Knowledge. There is no penance like (that involved in) Truth. There is no sorrow equal to (that involved in) attachment. There is no happiness (that which is obtainable from) renunciation. I have sprung from Brahma through Brahma. I shall devote myself to Brahma, though I am childless. I shall return to Brahma. I do not require a son for rescuing me. A Brahmana can have no wealth like to the state of being alone, the state in consequence of which he is capable of regarding everything with an equal eye, the practice of truthfulness, good behaviour, patience, abstention from injury, simplicity, and avoidance of all rites and visible sacrifices. What use hast thou, O Brahmana, of wealth or kinsmen and relatives, of wives, when thou shalt have to die? Seek thy Self which is concealed in a cave. Where are thy grandsires and where thy sire?"'[520] "'Bhishma continued, "Do thou also, O monarch, conduct thyself in that way in which the sire (in this story), conducts himself, devoted to the religion of Truth, after having listened to the speech of his son."'" SECTION CLXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, whence and how happiness and misery come to those that are rich, as also those that are poor, but who live in the observance of different practices and rites."[521] "'Bhishma continued, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of what was sung by Sampaka who had obtained tranquillity and achieved emancipation for himself. In former times a certain Brahmana, rendered miserable by a bad wife, bad dress, and hunger, and living in the observance of the vow of renunciation, told me these verses,[522] 'Diverse kinds of sorrow and happiness overtake, from the day of birth the person that is born on the earth. If he could ascribe either of them to the action of Destiny, he would not then feel glad when happiness came or miserable when sorrow overtook him. Though thy mind is divested of desire, thou bearest yet a heavy load. Thou dost not seek to achieve thy good (i.e., emancipation). Art thou not successful in controlling thy mind? If thou goest about, having renounced home and desirable possessions, thou shalt taste real happiness. A person divested of everything sleepeth in happiness, and awaketh in happiness. Complete poverty, in this world, is happiness. It is a good regimen, it is the source of blessings, it is freedom from danger. This foeless path is unattainable (by persons cherishing desire) and is easily attainable (by those that are freed from desire). Casting my eyes on every part of the three worlds, I do not behold the person who is equal to a poor man of pure conduct and without attachment (to worldly things). I weighed poverty and sovereignty in a balance. Poverty weighed heavier than sovereignty and seemed to possess greater merits. Between poverty and sovereignty there is this great distinction, viz., that the sovereign, possessed of affluence, is always agitated by anxiety and seems to be within the very jaws of death. As regards, however, the poor man, who in consequence of the divestment of all wealth has freed himself from hopes and emancipated himself, neither fire, nor foe, nor death, nor robbers, can get the better of him. The very gods applaud such a man who wanders about according to his sweet will, who lies down on the bare ground with his arm for a pillow, and who is possessed of tranquillity. Affected by wrath and cupidity, the man of affluence is stained by a wicked heart. He casts oblique glances and makes dry speeches.--He becomes sinful, and his face is always darkened with frowns. Biting his lips, and excited with wrath, he utters harsh and cruel words. If such a man desires to even make a gift of the whole world, who is there that would like even to look at him? Constant companionship with Prosperity stupefies a person of weak judgment. It drives off his judgment like the wind driving off the autumnal clouds. Companionship with Prosperity induces him to think,--I am possessed of beauty! I am possessed of wealth! I am high-born! I meet with success in whatever I undertake! I am not an ordinary human being!--His heart becomes intoxicated in consequence of these three reasons. With heart deeply attached to worldly possessions, he wastes the wealth hoarded by his sires. Reduced to want, he then regards the appropriation of other people's wealth as blameless. At this stage, when he transgresses all barriers and beings to appropriate the possessions of others from every side, the rulers of men obstruct and afflict him like sportsmen afflicting with keen shafts a deer that is espied in the woods. Such a man is then overwhelmed with many other afflictions of a similar kind that originate in fire and weapons. Therefore, disregarding all worldly propensities (such as desire for children and wives) together with all fleeting unrealities (such as the body, etc.,) one should, aided by one's intelligence, apply proper medicine for the cure of those painful afflictions. Without Renunciation one can never attain to happiness. Without Renunciation one can never obtain what is for one's highest good. Without Renunciation one can never sleep at ease. Therefore, renouncing everything, make happiness thy own.' All this was said to me in past times at Hastinapur by a Brahmana about what Sampaka had sung. For this reason, I regard Renunciation to be the foremost of things."'" SECTION CLXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "If any person, desiring to accomplish acts (of charity and sacrifices), fails to find (the necessary) wealth, and thirst of wealth overwhelms him, what is that which he must do for obtaining happiness?" "'Bhishma said, "He that regards everything (viz., joy and sorrow, honour and insult, etc.,) with an equal eye, that never exerts himself (for gratifying his desire for earthly possessions), that practises truthfulness of speech, that is freed from all kinds of attachment, and that has no desire for action, is, O Bharata, a happy man. These five, the ancients say, are the means for the acquisition of perfect tranquillity or emancipation. These are called Heaven. These are Religion. These constitute the highest happiness. In this connection is cited the old narrative of what Manki had sung, when freed from attachments. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! Desirous of wealth, Manki found that he was repeatedly doomed to disappointments. At last with a little remnant of his property he purchased a couple of young bulls with a yoke for training them (to agricultural labour). One day the two bulls properly tied to the yoke, were taken out for training (in the fields). Shying at the sight of a camel that was lying down on the road, the animals suddenly ran towards the camel, and fell upon its neck. Enraged at finding the bulls fall upon its neck, the camel, endued with great speed, rose up and ran at a quick pace, bearing away the two helpless creatures dangling on either side of its neck. Beholding his two bulls thus borne away by that strong camel, and seeing that they were at the point of death, Manki began to say, 'If wealth be not ordained by destiny, it can never be acquired by even a clever man exerting himself with attention and confidence and accomplishing with skill all that is necessary towards that end. I had, before this, endeavoured by diverse means and devotion to earn wealth. Behold this misfortune brought about by destiny to the property I had! My bulls are borne away, rising and falling, as the camel is running in an uneven course. This occurrence seems to be an accident.[523] Alas, those dear bulls of mine are dangling on the camel's neck like a couple of gems! This is only the result of Destiny. Exertion is futile in what is due to Chance. Or, if the existence of anything like Exertion (as an agent in the production of results) be admitted, a deeper search would discover Destiny to be at the bottom.[524] Hence, the person that desires happiness should renounce all attachment. The man without attachments, no longer cherishing any desire for earning wealth, can sleep happily. So, it was well said by Suka while going to the great forest from his father's abode, renouncing everything![525]--Amongst these two, viz., one who obtains the fruition of all his wishes, and one who casts off every wish, the latter, who renounces all, is superior to the former who obtains the fruition of all. No one could ever attain to the end of desire.[526] Only he that is destitute of knowledge and judgments feels an avidity for protecting his body and life.--Forbear from every desire for action. O my Soul that art possessed by cupidity, adopt tranquillity by freeing thyself from all attachments! Repeatedly hast thou been deceived (by desire and hope). How is it that thou dost not still free thyself from attachments? If I am not one that deserves destruction at thy hands, if I am one with whom thou shouldst sport in delight, then, O my wealth-coveting Soul, do not induce me towards cupidity. Thou hast repeatedly lost thy hoarded wealth. O my wealth-coveting and foolish Soul, when wilt thou succeed in emancipating thyself from the desire of wealth? Shame on my foolishness! I have become a toy of thine! It is thus that one becomes a slave of others. No one born on earth did ever attain to the end of desire, and no one that will take birth will succeed in attaining to it. Casting off all acts, I have at last been roused from sleep. I am now awake. Without doubt, O Desire, thy heart is as hard as adamant, since though affected by a hundred distresses, thou does not break into a hundred pieces! I know thee, O Desire, and all those things that are dear to thee! Seeking what is dear to thee, I shall feel happiness in my own Self.[527] O Desire, I know thy root. Thou springest from Will.[528]--I shall, therefore, avoid Will. Thou shalt then be destroyed with thy roots. The desire for wealth can never be fraught with happiness. If acquired, great is the anxiety that the acquirer feels. If lost after acquisition, that is felt as death. Lastly, respecting acquisition itself, it is very uncertain. Wealth cannot be got by even the surrender of one's person. What can be more painful than this? When acquired, one is never gratified with its measure, but one continues to seek it. Like the sweet water of the Ganges, wealth only increases one's hankering. It is my destruction. I am now awakened. Do thou, O Desire, leave me! Let that Desire which has taken refuge in this my body,--this compound of (five) elements,--go whithersoever it chooses and live happily whithersoever it likes.[529] Ye all that are not of the Soul, I have no joy in you, for ye follow the lead of Desire and Cupidity! Abandoning all of you I shall take refuge in the quality of Goodness.[530] Beholding all creatures in my own body and my own mind, and devoting my reason to Yoga, my life to the instructions of the wise, and soul to Brahma, I shall happily rove through the world, without attachment and without calamities of any kinds, so that thou mayst not be able to plunge me again into such sorrows![531] If I continue to be agitated by thee, O Desire, I shall necessarily be without a path (by which to effect my deliverance). Thou, O Desire, art always the progenitor of thirst, of grief, and of fatigue and toil. I think the grief that one feels at the loss of wealth is very keen and far greater than what one feels under any other circumstances. Kinsmen and friends disregard him that has lost his wealth. With various kinds of humiliation that number by thousands, there are many faults in property that are more painful still. On the other hand, the very small happiness that resides in wealth is mingled with pain and sorrow.[532] Robbers slay, in the sight of all, the person that is possessed of wealth, or afflict him with various kinds of severity, or always fill him with fear. At last, after a long time, I have understood that the desire for wealth is fraught with sorrow. Whatever the object, O Desire, upon which thou settest thy heart, thou forcest me to pursue it! Thou art without judgment. Thou art a fool. Thou art difficult of being contented. Thou canst not be gratified. Thou burnest like fire. Thou dost not enquire (in pursuing an object) whether it is easy or difficult of attainment. Thou canst not be filled to the brim, like the nether region. Thou wishest to plunge me into sorrow. From this day, O Desire, I am incapable of living with thee! I who had felt despair, at first, at the loss of my property, have now attained to the high state of perfect freedom from attachments. At this moment I no longer think of thee and thy train. I had, before this, felt great misery on thy account. I do not (now) regard myself as destitute of intelligence. Having adopted Renunciation in consequence of loss of my property, I can now rest, freed from every kind of fever. I cast thee off, O Desire, with all the passions of my heart. Thou shalt not again dwell with me or sport with me. I shall forgive them that will slander or speak ill of me. I shall not injure even when injured. If anybody from aversion speaks disagreeable words of me, disregarding those words I shall address him in agreeable speeches. In contentment of heart and with all my senses at ease, I shall always live upon what may be got by me. I shall not contribute to the gratification of the wishes entertained by thee that art my foe. Freedom from attachment, emancipation from desire, contentment, tranquillity, truth, self-restraint, forgiveness, and universal compassion are the qualities that have now come to me. Therefore, let Desire, cupidity, thirst, miserliness avoid me. I have now adopted the path of Goodness. Having cast off Desire and Cupidity, great is my happiness now. I shall no longer yield to the influence of Cupidity and no longer suffer misery like a person of uncleansed soul. One is sure to obtain happiness according to the measure of the desires he may be able to cast off. Truly, he who yields himself up to Desire always suffers misery. Whatever passions connected with Desire are cast off by a person, all appertain to the quality of Passion. Sorrow and shamelessness and discontent all arise from Desire and Wealth. Like a person plunging in the hot season into a cool lake, I have now entered into Brahma, I have abstained from work. I have freed myself from grief. Pure happiness has now come to me. The felicity that results from the gratification of Desire, or that other purer felicity which one enjoys in heaven, does not come to even a sixteenth part of that which arises upon the abandonment of all kinds of thirst! Killing the principle of desire, which with the body makes an aggregate of seven, and which is a bitter foe, I have entered the immortal city of Brahma and shall pass my days there in happiness like a king!' Relying upon such intelligence, Manki freed himself from attachments, casting off all desires and attaining to Brahma that abode of the highest felicity. Indeed, in consequence of the loss of his two bulls Manki attained to immortality. Indeed, because he cut the very roots of desire, he attained, through that means, to high felicity."'" SECTION CLXXVIII "'Bhishma continued, "In this connection is also cited the old narrative of the verses sung by Janaka the ruler of the Videhas, who had attained to tranquillity of soul. What the monarch said was, 'Unlimited is my wealth. At the same time I have nothing, if the whole of (my kingdom) Mithila be consumed in a conflagration, I shall incur no loss.' In the connection is also cited the speech of Vodhya uttered in respect of this very topic, viz., freedom from attachments. Listen to it O Yudhishthira! Once on a time the royal son of Nahusha (Yayati) questioned the Rishi Vodhya who had, in consequence of the abandonment of desire, attained to tranquillity of soul and who had an intimate acquaintance with the scriptures. The monarch said, 'O thou of great wisdom, give me instructions about tranquillity. What is that understanding relying upon which thou succeedest in wandering over the world in tranquillity of soul and disengaged from all acts?' "'"Vodhya said, 'I conduct myself according to the instructions of others but never instruct others myself. I shall, however, mention the indications of those instructions (according to which my conduct is framed). Thou mayst catch their spirit by reflection. My six preceptors are Pingala, the osprey, the snake, the bee in the forest, the maker of shafts (in the story), and the maiden (in the story)!'"[533] "'Bhishma continued, "Hope is very powerful (in agitating the heart), O King! Freedom from hope is high felicity. Reducing hope to an absence of expectation, Pingala sleeps in peace.[534] Beholding an osprey with meat in his beaks, others, that have not found any meat, assail and destroy him. A certain osprey, by altogether abstaining from meat obtained felicity. To build a house for one's own self is productive of sorrow and not of happiness. The snake, taking up his residence in another creature's abode, lives in felicity. The ascetics live happily, betaking themselves to mendicancy, without being injured by any creature, like bees in the forest. A certain maker of shafts, while employed at his work, was so deeply attentive to it that he did not notice the king who passed by his side. When many are together, dispute ensues. Even when two reside together, they are sure to converse. I, however, wander alone like the anklet made of sea-shells in the wrist of the maiden in the story."'"[535] SECTION CLXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou that art conversant with the conduct of men, tell me by what conduct a person may succeed in this world, freed from grief. How also should a person act in this world so that he may attain to an excellent end?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between Prahlada and the sage Ajagara. Once on a time king Prahlada of great intelligence questioned a wandering Brahmana of great intelligence and a cleansed and tranquil soul. "'"Prahlada said, 'Freed from desire, with a cleansed soul, possessed of humility and self-restraint, without desire of action, free from malice, agreeable in speech, endued with dignity and intelligence and wisdom, thou livest (in simplicity) like a child. Thou never covetest any kind of gain, and never grievest at any kind of loss. Thou art always contented, O Brahmana, and dost not seem to regard anything in the world. While all other creatures are being borne away in the current of desire and passion, thou art perfectly indifferent to all acts appertaining to Religion, Profit, and Pleasure. Thou seemest to be in a state of quietude (without the possibility of agitation). Disregarding all objects of the senses, thou movest like an emancipated self, only witnessing everything (but never taking part in anything). What, O sage, is thy wisdom, what thy learning, and what thy behaviour (in consequence of which all this becomes possible)? Tell me this without delay, if, O Brahmana, thou thinkest it will do me good!'" "'Bhishma continued, "That intelligent Brahmana who was well-conversant with the duties of the world, thus questioned by Prahlada, answered him in sweet words of grave import. 'Behold, O Prahlada, the origin of creatures, their growth, decay, and death, are traceable to no (intelligible) cause. It is for this that I do not indulge in either joy or sorrow.[536] All the propensities (for action) that exist in the universe may be seen to flow from the very natures of the creatures (to which they inhere). All things (in the universe) are depended on their respective natures. Hence, I am not delighted with anything.[537] Behold, O Prahlada, all kinds of union have an aptitude for disunion. All acquisitions are certain to end in destruction. Hence I never set my heart upon the acquisition of any object. All things possessed of attributes are certain to meet with destruction. What remains there for a person then to do who (like me) is conversant with both the origin and the end of things? Of all things, large or small, born in the ocean of waters, the end is noticeable. I see also the death, which is manifest, O chief of Asuras, of all things, mobile and immobile, belonging to the land. O best of Danavas, death comes in season unto even the strongest of winged creatures which range the sky. I see again that the luminous bodies, large and small, which move in the firmament, fall down when their time comes. Beholding all created things Possessed of knowledge, to be thus liable to be affected by death, and thinking all things to be possessed of the same nature, I sleep in peace without any anxiety of heart. If I get without trouble a copious repast, I do not scruple to enjoy it. On the other hand, I pass many days, together without eating anything. Sometimes people feed me with costly viands in profusion, sometimes with a small quantity, sometimes with even less, and sometimes I get no food whatever. I sometimes eat only a portion of a grain; sometimes the dry sesame cakes from which the oil has been pressed out, I sometimes eat rice and other food of the richest kind. Sometimes I sleep on an elevated bedstead of the best kind. Sometimes I sleep on the bare ground. Sometimes my bed is made within a fine palace or mansion. I am sometimes clad in rags, sometimes in sackcloth, sometimes in raiments of fine texture, sometimes in deer-skins, sometimes in robes of the costliest kind. I never reject such enjoyments as are consistent with virtue and as are obtained by me without effort. I do not, at the same time, strive for attaining such objects as are difficult of acquisition. The rigid vow I have adopted is called Ajagara.[538] That vow can secure immortality. It is auspicious and griefless. It is incomparable and pure. It is consistent with the counsels of the wise. It is disapproved by persons of foolish understanding who never follow it. With a pure heart I conduct myself according to it. My mind never swerves from this vow. I have not swerved from the practices of my order. I am abstemious in everything. I know the past and the present. Divested of fear and wrath and cupidity and errors of judgment, I follow this vow with a pure heart. There are no restrictions in respect of food and drink and other objects of enjoyment for one practising this vow. As everything is dependent on destiny, there is no observance of the considerations of time and place for one like us. The vow I follow contributes to true happiness of the heart. It is never observed by those that are wicked. I follow it with a pure heart. Induced by cupidity, men pursue different kinds of wealth. If baffled in the pursuit, they become depressed by sorrow. Reflecting properly upon all this by the aid of my intelligence which has penetrated the truths of things, I follow this vow with a pure heart. I have seen persons in distress seeking, for the acquisition of wealth, the shelter of men, good and bad. Devoted to tranquillity, and with my passions under control, I follow this vow with a pure heart. Beholding, by the aid of truth, that happiness and misery, loss and gain, attachment and renunciation, death and life, are all ordained by destiny, I follow this vow with a pure heart. Divested of fear and attachment and errors of judgment and pride, and endued with wisdom, intelligence, and understanding, and devoted to tranquillity and hearing that large snakes without moving enjoy the fruit that comes to them of itself, I follow their practice with a pure heart. Without restrictions of any kind in respect of bed and food, endued by my nature with self-restraint, abstemiousness, pure vow, truth, and purity of conduct, and without any desire to store (for future use) the rewards of action, I follow, with a delighted and pure heart, this vow. All causes of sorrow have fled from me in consequence of my having driven off the object of desire. Having received an accession of light, I follow this vow with a pure heart, for controlling my soul which is thirsty and unrestrained but which is capable (under proper culture) of depending upon itself (without the necessity of external objects to keep it engaged). Without paying any heed to the concerns towards which my heart, mind, words would like to lead me, and marking that the happiness which is connected with these is both difficult of acquisition and fleeting in respect of duration, I follow this vow with a pure heart. Learned men possessed of great intelligence, desirous of proclaiming their own feats, have while establishing their own theories and censuring those of others, said this and that on this topic which is incapable of being settled by disputation. Foolish men fail to understand this vow in a proper light. I, however, see it to be destructive of Ignorance. Regarding it also as fraught with immortality and as a remedy against diverse kinds of evil, I wander among men, having subdued all faults and having freed myself from thirst (after worldly goods)!'" "'Bhishma continued, "That high-souled person who, having freed himself from attachments and divested himself of fear, cupidity; foolishness, and wrath, follows this Ajagara vow, or indulges in this sport, as it may be called, certainly succeeds in passing his days in great delight."'" SECTION CLXXX "'Yudhishthira said, "Which of these, O grandsire, viz., kinsmen, or acts, or wealth, or wisdom should be the refuge of a person? Questioned by me, answer me this!" "'Bhishma said, "Wisdom is the refuge of creatures. Wisdom is regarded as the highest of acquisitions. Wisdom is the highest felicity in the world. Wisdom is heaven in the estimation of the good and virtuous. It was through wisdom that Vali, Prahlada, Namuchi, and Manki, when they lost their (earthly) prosperity, succeeded in acquiring felicity. What is there that is superior to wisdom? In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between Indra and Kasyapa. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! Once on a time a prosperous Vaisya, in the enjoyment of prosperity, and proud of his affluence, threw down, by negligently driving his car, a Rishi's son of rigid vows named Kasyapa, devoted to penances. Prostrated on the ground, the young man, in exceeding pain, gave way to his wrath; and under the influence of despair resolved, saying, 'I shall cast off my life. A poor man has no need of life in this world.' While the Brahmana was lying in that state, silent and agitated, deprived of energy and at the point of death, Indra appeared on the scene in the form of a jackal and addressing him, said, 'All (inferior) creatures covet birth in the human race. Among men again, the status of a Brahmana is much desired. Thou, O Kasyapa, art a human being! Amongst human beings, thou art again a Brahmana. Among Brahmanas, thou art again one that is conversant with the Vedas. Having obtained that which is attainable with very great difficulty, it behoveth thee not to give up life from folly! All kinds Of (worldly) acquisitions are fraught with pride. The declaration of the Srutis in that respect is perfectly true. Thou lookest the picture of contentment. In forming such a resolve (which is so derogatory of thy own self) about casting off thy life, thou actest from cupidity! O, they are crowned with success that have hands! I eagerly wish for the status of those creatures that have hands! We covet hands as eagerly as you covet riches. There is no acquisition that is more valuable than the acquisition of hands. Behold, O Brahmana, I cannot extract this thorn that has entered my body, or crush these insects and worms that are biting and afflicting me greatly! They that have bestowed upon them two hands with ten fingers, succeed in throwing away or crushing the worms (by scratching) that bite their limbs. They succeed in constructing shelters for themselves from rain, cold, and heat. They succeed also in enjoying excellent clothes for themselves, good food, comfortable beds, and excellent habitations. Lying on this Earth, they that have hands enjoy kine and other animals and cause them to carry burthens or drag their vehicles, and by the aid of diverse means bring those animals under sway (for their own purposes). Those living creatures that are without tongues, that are helpless, of little strength, and destitute of hands, bear all the several kinds of misery (indicated above). By good luck, O ascetic, thou art not like them. By good luck, thou art not a jackal, nor a worm, nor a mouse, nor a frog, nor an animal of any other miserable order. With this measure of gain (that thou hast won), thou shouldst, O Kasyapa, be contented! How happy, again, shouldst thou feel at the thought that amongst living creatures thou art a superior Brahmana! These worms are biting me! For want of hands I am unable to drive them off. Behold this my miserable plight! I do not cast off life because to do so is a very sinful act, and lest, indeed, I fall into a more miserable order of existence! This order of existence, viz., that of a jackal, to which I now belong is rather tolerable. Miserable as it is, there are many orders of existence below it that are more miserable still. By birth certain classes of creatures become happier than others who become subject to great woe. But I never see that there is any order of being which can be said to be in the possession of perfect happiness. Human beings, obtaining affluence, next wish for sovereignty. Having achieved sovereignty their next wish is for the status of gods. Having won that status they then wish for the chiefdom of the celestials. If thou becomest affluent, thou wilt never succeed in becoming a king (for thou art a Brahmana by birth), nor in becoming a god (because, in reality, thy status of Brahmanahood is equal if not superior to that of a god). If by any means (led away by the alluring prospect of heavenly bliss) thou becomest a god (instead of attaining to a superior position), thou wilt then covet for the chiefdom of the gods. In no condition wilt thou be contented. Contentment does not result from acquisition of desirable objects. Thirst is never slaked although there is profusion of water.[539] The thirst for acquisition only blazes up with each fresh acquisition like a fire with new faggots thrown into it. In thee there is grief. But joy also dwells in thee. Both happiness and misery dwell in thee. Why then shouldst thou yield to grief? One should shut up, like birds in a cage, the very springs, viz., the understanding and the sense of all one's desires and acts. There can be no cutting of a second head, nor of a third hand. That which does not exist can produce no fear. One that is not acquainted with the enjoyment a certain object affords, never feels a desire for that object. Desires arise from the actual experience of the pleasures that touch or sight, or hearing gives. Thou hast no idea of the taste of the wine called Varuni or of the meat of the birds called Ladwaka. There is no drink and no food more delicious than these. Thou hast no idea also, O Kasyapa, of every other superior kind of drink and food that exists among men, for thou hast never tasted it. Without doubt, therefore, not to taste, not to see, should be the vow of a man if he is to win happiness. Creatures that have hands, without doubt, become strong and earn wealth. Men are reduced by men to a state of servitude, and are repeatedly afflicted (at the hands of their own species) with death, imprisonment, and other tortures. Although such is their condition, yet even they (without yielding to grief) laugh and sport and indulge in merriment. Others again, though endued with might of arms, and possessed of knowledge and great energy of mind, follow censurable, sinful, and miserable professions. They seek to change such professions for other pursuits (that are more dignified) but then they are bound by their own acts (of a previous life) and by the force of Destiny. The vilest man of the Pukkasa or the Chandala orders never wishes to cast off his life. He is quite contented with the order of his birth. Behold the illusion in this respect! Beholding those amongst thy species that are destitute of arms, or struck with palsy, or afflicted with other diseases, thou canst regard thyself as very happy and possessed of valuable accompaniments amongst the members of thy own order. If this thy regenerated body remains safe and sound, and free from disease, and all thy limbs remain perfect, thou art sure of never incurring any reproach amongst men. It would not behove thee, O Brahmana, to cast off thy life even if any blame, founded on fact and capable of bringing about thy dismissal from caste, attached to thee! Rise, and practise virtue. It is not meet that thou shouldst throw away thy life! If, O regenerate one, thou listen to me and place credence on my words, thou wilt then obtain the highest reward of the religion inculcated in the Vedas. Do thou set thyself to Vedic studies, and duly maintain thy sacred fire, and observe truth, and self-restraint, and charity. Never compare thyself boastfully with another. They who, by devoting themselves to the study of the Vedas, become competent for performing sacrifices for themselves and others, have no need to indulge in any kind of regret or fear any kind of evil. They that are born under an auspicious constellation on an auspicious lunation and at an auspicious hour, strive their best for performing sacrifices, practising charity, and procreating children, and desiring to pass their time cheerfully in those acts, at last win very great happiness.[540] They, on the other hand, that are born under evil constellations, inauspicious lunations, and at evil hours, become destitute of sacrifices and progeny and at last fall into the Asura order.[541] In my former life I had much useless learning. I always sought for reasons and had very little faith. I was a slanderer of the Vedas. I was destitute of the (fourfold) objects of life, and was devoted to that science of argumentation which is based upon ocular or tangible proofs.[542] I used to utter words based on (plausible) reasons. Indeed, in assemblies, I always spoke of reasons (and never faith). I used to speak irreverently of the declarations of the Srutis and address Brahmanas in domineering tones. I was an unbeliever, skeptical of everything, and though really ignorant, proud of my learning. This status of a jackal that I have obtained in this life is the consequence, O regenerate one, of those sins of mine! If even after hundreds of days and nights I that am a jackal can once again obtain the status of humanity, I shall then pass my life in contentment, heedful of the true objects of existence, and engaged in sacrifices and gifts. I shall then know what should be known, and avoid what should be avoided!' Thus addressed, the ascetic Kasyapa, rising up, said, 'O, thou art certainly possessed of knowledge and great intelligence! I am really surprised at all this!' With eyes whose vision was extended by knowledge, the Brahmana then beheld that being who had addressed him to be Indra, chief of the gods and the lord of Sachi. Kasyapa then worshipped that god having the best of steeds for the animal that bore him. Receiving afterwards the god's permission, the Brahmana returned to his abode."'" SECTION CLXXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, if gifts, sacrifices, penances, and dutiful services returned to preceptors, are productive of wisdom and high felicity."[543] "'Bhishma said, "If the mind becomes affected by desire, wrath and other evil passions, it then runs towards sin. If one's acts are stained by sin, one is obliged to dwell in painful regions. Sinful men take birth in indigent circumstances and repeatedly suffer the pangs of famine, woe, fear, and death. Those that are virtuous in their acts, and possessed of faith, and that have their senses under control, become born as affluent men and repeatedly sport in festivities and heaven and happiness. Unbelievers, with their arms manacled, are sent to regions rendered inaccessible by carnivorous beasts and elephants and full of terrors in consequence of snakes and robbers. What more need be said of them? They, on the other hand, who have reverence for gods and guests, who are liberal, who are fond of good and honest men, go, in consequence of their acts of charity, along that happy way which belongs to persons of cleansed souls. They that have no reverence for virtue are as vile among men as seedless grains among corn or the gnat among birds. That which is ordained in consequence of the acts of a past life pursues the actor even if the latter strives his best for leaving it behind.[544] It sleeps when he sleeps and does whatever else he does.[545] Like his shadow it rests when he rests, proceeds when he proceeds, and acts when he acts. Whatever acts a man does he has certainly to obtain the fruits thereof. Death is dragging all creatures who are surely destined to fall (into orders of existence they deserve) and who are surely liable to enjoy or suffer that which has been ordained as the consequence of their acts. The acts of a past life develop their consequences in their own proper time even as flowers and fruits, without extraneous efforts of any kind, never fail to appear when their proper time comes. After the consequences, as ordained, of the acts of a past life, have been exhausted (by enjoyment or sufferings), honour and disgrace, gain and loss, decay and growth, no longer flow or appear in respect of any one. This happens repeatedly.[546] A creature while still in the mother's womb enjoys or suffers the happiness or the misery that has been ordained for him in consequence of his own acts. In childhood or youth or old age, at whatever period of life one does an act good or bad, the consequences thereof are sure to visit him in his next life at precisely the same period. As a calf recognises and approaches its parent in the midst of even a thousand kine, even so the acts of a past life recognise and visit the doer in his new life. Washed in water a (dirty) piece of cloth becomes clean. Similarly, men burning in repentance obtain endless happiness by proper penances.[547] Those that can take up their residence in the woods and by performing austerities for a long period can wash themselves of their sins, succeed in obtaining the objects on which they set their hearts. As no one can mark the track of birds in the sky or of fishes in the water, similarly, the track of persons whose souls have been cleansed by knowledge cannot be marked by any.[548] There is no need of any more eloquence or any more reference to sinful acts. Suffice it to say that one should, with proper judgment and as befits one best, do what is for one's good. This is the means by which wisdom and high felicity may be achieved."'" SECTION CLXXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Whence has this universe consisting of mobile and immobile creatures been created? Whom does it go to when destruction sets in? Tell me this, O grandsire! Indeed, by whom has this universe with its oceans, its firmament, its mountains, its clouds, its lands, its fire, and its wind, been created? How were all objects created? Whence this division into separate orders of existence? Whence are their purity and impurity, and the ordinances about virtue and vice? Of what kind is the life of living creatures? Where also do they go who die? Tell us everything about this and the other world." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the sacred words that Bhrigu said in reply to the questions of Bharadwaja. Beholding the great Rishi Bhrigu blazing with energy and splendour, seated on the Kailasa summit, Bharadwaja addressed him in the following words. "'"Bharadwaja said, 'By whom was this world with its ocean, its firmament, its mountains, its clouds, its lands, its fire, and its wind, created? How were all creatures first created? Whence this distinction of castes? Whence the purity and the impurity of (behaviour), and whence the ordinances about virtue and vice, for living creatures? Of what kind is the life of living creatures? Where do they go who die? It behoveth thee to tell me everything about this and the other world.' Thus addressed about his doubts by Bharadwaja, the illustrious and regenerate Rishi Bhrigu who resembled Brahma itself, replied unto him, saying these words. "'"Bhrigu said, 'There is a Primeval Being, known to the great Rishis, of the name of Manasa. He is without beginning and without end. That Divine Being is incapable of being penetrated by weapons. He is without decay and is Immortal. He is said to be Unmanifest. He is Eternal, Undecaying, and Unchangeable. Through Him are creatures born and through Him they die. He first created a Divine Being known by the name of Mahat.[549] Mahat created Consciousness. That Divine Being created Space. That puissant Being is the holder of all created objects. From Space was born Water, and from Water were born Fire and Wind. Through the union of Fire and Wind was born the Earth. Self-born Manasa then created a divine Lotus pregnant with Energy. From that Lotus sprang Brahman, that Ocean of Veda.[550] The Srutis say that as soon as born, that divine Being uttered the words, "I am He!" For this He came to be called by the name of Consciousness. He has all created things for his body and He is their Creator.[551] These five elements that we see are that Brahman of great energy. The mountains are his bones. The earth is his fat and flesh. The oceans are his blood. Space is his stomach. The Wind is his breath. Fire is his energy. The rivers are his arteries and veins. Agni and Soma, otherwise called the Sun and the Moon, are called his eyes. The firmament above is his head. The earth is his two feet. The cardinal and subsidiary points of the horizon are his arms. Without doubt, He is incapable of being known and His Soul is inconceivable by even persons crowned with ascetic success. The Divine Being, who pervades the whole universe, is also known by the name of Ananta (Infinite). He lives in Consciousness, and is incapable of being known by persons of uncleansed souls. Asked by thee I have now told thee of Him who created Consciousness for evoking into existence all created objects, and from whom this universe has sprung.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'What is the extent of the firmament, of the points of the horizon, of the surface of this earth, and of the wind? By telling me the truth, solve my doubts.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'The sky thou seest above is infinite. It is the abode of persons crowned with ascetic success and of divine beings. It is delightful, and consists of various regions. Its limits cannot be ascertained. The Sun and the Moon cannot see, above or below, beyond the range of their own rays. There where the rays of the Sun and the Moon cannot reach are luminaries[552] which are self-effulgent and which possess splendour like that of the Sun or the fire. Know this, O giver of honours, that possessed of far-famed splendour, even these last do not behold the limits of the firmament in consequence of the inaccessibility and infinity of those limits. This Space which the very gods cannot measure is full of many blazing and self-luminous worlds each above the other. Beyond the limits of land are oceans of water. Beyond water is darkness. Beyond darkness is water again, and beyond the last is fire. Downwards, beyond the nether regions, is water. Beyond water is the region belonging to the great snakes. Beyond that is sky once more, and beyond the sky is water again. Even thus there is water and sky alternately without end. Even such are the limits of the Divinity represented by water. The very gods are unable to ascertain limits of fire and wind and water. The nature of fire, wind, water, and land, is like that of space. They are distinguished through want of true knowledge. Sages read in diverse scriptures the limits that have been declared of the three worlds and the ocean. Who is there, however, that would set limits to what cannot be grasped by vision and what is inaccessible (in all its parts)? If even it becomes possible to ascertain the limits of the firmament which is the track of the gods and beings crowned with ascetic success, it can never be possible to set limits to that which is limitless and known by the name of the Infinite, to that which correspond with the name by which it is known, viz., what has been called the high-souled Manasa? When again His form is sometimes contracted and sometimes expanded, how can any one else except one that is equal to Him, be able to comprehend His limits? From the Lotus (of which I have already spoken) was first created the Omniscient lord, Brahman, endued with form, of essence comprised of Righteousness, and the Creator of all mobile and immobile things.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'If Brahman sprang from the Lotus, then it is the Lotus that should be regarded as the First-born and not Brahman. Why, however, is Brahma said to be the first? Do thou remove that doubt of mine.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'The Earth it is that is called the Lotus. It was created for giving a seat unto that form of Manasa which became Brahman. Reaching up to heaven itself, the Sumeru became the pericarp of the Lotus. Remaining within it, the puissant Lord of the Universe created all the worlds.'"'" SECTION CLXXXIII "'"Bharadwaja said, 'Tell me, O best of Brahmanas, how the puissant Brahman residing within Meru, created these diverse kinds of objects.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'The great Manasa (in his form of Brahman) created the diverse kinds of objects by fiat of Will. For the protection then of all creatures, he first created water. Water is the life of all creatures, and it is water which aids their growth. If there be no water, all creatures would perish. The whole universe is pervaded by water. Earth, mountains, clouds, and all things which have form, should all be known as transformations of water. They have all been produced by the solidification of that element.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'How did water spring? How Fire and Wind? How also was the earth created? I have great doubts on these points.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'O regenerate one, in very ancient times called the Brahma-kalpa, the high-souled Rishis of the regenerate order, when they assembled together, felt this very doubt about the creation of the universe. Re-straining speech, they remained immovable, engaged in (ascetic) contemplation. Having given up all food, they subsisted upon air alone, and remained thus for a thousand celestial years. At the end of that period, certain words as sacred as those of the Vedas simultaneously reached the ears of all. Indeed, this celestial voice was heard in the firmament to say, "Formerly there was only infinite Space, perfectly motionless and immovable. Without sun, moon, stars, and wind, it seemed to be asleep. Then water sprang into existence like something darker within darkness. Then from the pressure of water arose wind. As an empty vessel without a hole appears at first to be without any sound, but when filled with water, air appears and makes a great noise, even so when infinite Space was filled with water, the wind arose with a great noise, penetrating through the water.[553] That wind, thus generated by the pressure of the ocean of water, still moveth. Coming into (unobstructed) Space, its motion is never stopped. Then in consequence of the friction of wind and water, fire possessed of great might and blazing energy, sprang into existence, with flames directed upwards. That fire dispelled the darkness that had covered Space. Assisted by the wind, fire drew Space and Water together. Indeed, combining with the wind, fire became solidified. While failing from the sky, the liquid portion of fire solidified again and became what is known as the earth. The earth or land, in which everything is born, is the origin of all kinds of taste, of all kinds of scent, of all kinds of liquids, and of all kinds of animals."'"'" SECTION CLXXXIV "'"Bharadwaja said, 'When the high-souled Brahman has created thousands of creatures, why is it that only these five elements which he created first, which pervade all the universe and which are great creatures, have come to have the name of creatures applied to them exclusively?'[554] "'"Bhrigu said, 'All things that belong to the category of the Infinite or the Vast receive the appellation of Great. It is for this reason that these five elements have come to be called Great creatures. Activity is wind. The sound that is heard is space. The heat that is within it is fire. The liquid juices occurring in it are water. The solidified matter, viz., flesh and bones, are earth. The bodies (of living creatures) are thus made of the five (primeval) elements. All mobile and immobile objects are made of these five elements. The five senses also of living creatures partake of the five elements. The ear partakes of the properties of space, the nose of earth; the tongue of water; touch of wind; and the eyes of light (of fire).' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'If all mobile and immobile objects be composed of these five elements, why is it that in all immobile objects those elements are not visible? Trees do not appear to have any heat. They do not seem to have any motion. They are again made up of dense particles. The five elements are not noticeable in them. Trees do not hear; they do not see; they are not capable of the perceptions of scent or taste. They have not also the perception of touch. How then can they be regarded as composed of the five (primeval) elements? It seems to me that in consequence of the absence of any liquid material in them, of any heat, of any earth, of any wind, and of any empty space, trees cannot be regarded as compounds of the five (primeval) elements.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'Without doubt, though possessed of density, trees have space within them. The putting forth of flowers and fruits is always taking place in them. They have heat within them in consequence of which leaf, bark, fruit, and flower, are seen to droop. They sicken and dry up. That shows they have perception of touch. Through sound of wind and fire and thunder, their fruits and flowers drop down. Sound is perceived through the ear. Trees have, therefore, ears and do hear. A creeper winds round a tree and goes about all its sides. A blind thing cannot find its way. For this reason it is evident that trees have vision. Then again trees recover vigour and put forth flowers in consequence of odours, good and bad, of the sacred perfume of diverse kinds of dhupas. It is plain that trees have scent.[555] They drink water by their roots. They catch diseases of diverse kinds. Those diseases again are cured by different operations. From this it is evident that trees have perceptions of taste. As one can suck up water through a bent lotus-stalk, trees also, with the aid of the wind, drink through their roots. They are susceptible of pleasure and pain, and grow when cut or lopped off. From these circumstances I see that trees have life. They are not inanimate. Fire and wind cause the water thus sucked up to be digested. According, again, to the quantity of the water taken up, the tree advances in growth and becomes humid. In the bodies of all mobile things the five elements occur. In each the proportions are different. It is in consequence of these five elements that mobile objects can move their bodies. Skin, flesh, bones, marrow, and arteries and veins, that exist together in the body are made of earth. Energy, wrath, eyes, internal heat, and that other heat which digest the food that is taken, these five, constitute the fire that occurs in all embodied creatures.[556] The ears, nostrils, mouth, heart, and stomach, these five, constitute the element of space that occurs in the bodies of living creatures. Phlegm, bile, sweat, fat, blood, are the five kinds of water that occur in mobile bodies. Through the breath called Prana a living creature is enabled to move. Through that called Vyana, they put forth strength for action. That called Apana moves downwards. That called Samana resides within the heart. Through that called Udana one eructates and is enabled to speak in consequence of its piercing through (the lungs, the throat, and the mouth). These are the five kinds of wind that cause an embodied creature to live and move. The properties of scent an embodied creature knows through the earth-element in him. From the water-element he perceives taste. From the fire-element represented by the eyes, he perceives forms, and from the wind-element he obtains the perception of touch. Scent, touch, taste, vision, and sound, are regarded as the (general) properties of every mobile and immobile object. I shall first speak of the several kinds of scent. They are agreeable, disagreeable, sweet, pungent, far-going, varied, dry, indifferent. All these nine kinds of scent are founded upon the earth-element. Light is seen by the eyes and touch through the wind-element. Sound, touch, vision and taste are the properties of water. I shall speak (in detail) now of the perception of taste. Listen to me. High-souled Rishis have spoken of diverse kinds of taste. They are sweet, saltish, bitter, astringent, sour, and pungent. These are the six kinds of taste appertaining to the water-element. Light contributes to the vision of form. Form is of diverse kinds. Short, tall, thick, four-cornered, round, white, black, red, blue, yellow, reddish, hard, bright, smooth, oily, soft, and terrible. These are the sixteen different kinds of form which constitute the property of light or vision. The property of the wind-element is touch. Touch is of various kinds: warm, cold, agreeable, disagreeable, indifferent, burning, mild, soft, light, and heavy. Both sound and touch are the two properties of the wind-element. These are the eleven properties that appertain to the wind. Space has only one property. It is called sound. I shall now tell thee the different kinds of sound. They are the seven original notes called Shadja, Rishabha, Gandhara, Mahdhyama, Panchama, Dhaivata and Nishada. These are the seven kinds of the property that appertains to space. Sound inheres like the Supreme Being in all space though attached especially to drums and other instruments. Whatever sound is heard from drums small and large, and conchs, and clouds, and cars, and animate and inanimate creatures, are all included in these seven kinds of sound already enumerated. Thus sound, which is the property of space, is of various kinds. The learned have said sound to be born of space. When raised by the different kinds of touch, which is the property of the wind, it may be heard. It cannot however, be heard, when the different kinds of touch are inceptive. The elements, mingling with their counterparts in the body, increase and grow. Water, fire, wind are always awake in the bodies of living creatures. They are the roots of the body. Pervading the five life-breaths (already mentioned) they reside in the body.'"'" SECTION CLXXXV "'"Bharadwaja said, 'How does bodily fire or heat, entering the body, reside there? How also does the wind, obtaining space for itself, cause the body to move and exert itself?' "'"Bhrigu said, 'I shall, O regenerate one, speak to thee of the course in which the wind moves, and how, O sinless one, that mighty element causes the bodies of living creatures to move and exert themselves. Heat resides within the head (brain) and protects the body (from perishing). The wind or breath called Prana, residing within the head and the heat that is there, cause all kinds of exertion. That Prana is the living creature, the universal soul, the eternal Being, and the Mind, Intellect, and Consciousness of all living creatures, as also all the objects of the senses.[557] Thus the living creature is, in every respect, caused by Prana to move about and exert. Then in consequence of the other breath called Samana, every one of the senses is made to act as it does. The breath called Apana, having recourse to the heat that is in the urethra and the abdominal intestines, moves, engaged in carrying out urine and faeces. That single breath which operates in these three, is called Udana by those that are conversant with science. That breath which operates, residing in all the joints of men's bodies, is called Vyana. There is heat in the bodies of living creatures which is circulated all over the system by the breath Samana. Residing thus in the body, that breath operates upon the different kinds of watery and other elementary substances and all bad humours. That heat, residing between Apana and Prana, in the region of the navel, operates, with the aid of those two breaths, in digesting all food that is taken by a living creature. There is a duct beginning from the mouth down to the anal canal. Its extremity is called the anus. From this main duct numerous subsidiary ones branch out in the bodies of all living creatures.[558] In consequence of the rush of the several breaths named above (through these ducts), those breaths mingle together. The heat (that dwells in Prana) is called Ushman. It is this heat that causes digestion in all creatures possessed of bodies. The breath called Prana, the bearer of a current of heat, descends (from the head) downwards to the extremity of the anal canal and thence is sent upwards once more. Coming back to its seat in the head, it once more sends down the heat it bears. Below the navel is the region of digested matter. Above it is that for the food which is taken. In the navel are all the forces of life that sustain the body. Urged by the ten kinds of breaths having Prana for their first, the ducts (already mentioned), branching out from the heart, convey the liquid juices that food yields, upwards, downwards, and in transverse directions.[559] The main duct leading from the mouth to the anus is the path by which yogins, vanquishers of fatigue, of perfect equanimity in joy and sorrow, and possessed of great patience, succeed in attaining to Brahma by holding the soul within the brain.[560] Even thus is heat planted in the breaths called Prana and Apana and others, of all embodied creatures. That heat is always burning there like a fire placed in any (visible) vessel.'"'" SECTION CLXXXVI "'"Bharadwaja said, 'If it is the wind that keeps us alive, if it is the wind that causes us to move and exert, if it is the wind that causes us to breathe and to speak, then it seems that life is worth little. If the animal heat (that digests all food) be of the nature of fire, and if it is that fire which assists at digestion by dissolving the food we take, then life is worth little. When an animal dies, that which is called its life is never seen leaving it. Only the breath leaves it, and the internal heat becomes extinguished. If life were nothing else than wind, or if life depended only on the wind, then it could have been seen like the external sea of air, and when passing out it would have mingled with that air. If life dependest upon air, and if it ended with the escape of that air from the body, it would then mingle with another portion of air (that exists externally) like a portion of water escaping into the great ocean and thereby only changing the place of its residence. If a quantity of water be thrown into a well, or if the flame of a lamp be thrown into a blazing fire, either of them, entering a homogeneous element, loses its independent or separate existence. If life were air, it also, when the animal died, would mingle with the great ocean of air outside. How can we say that there is life in this animal body which is made up of the five (primal) elements? If one of those elements disappear, the union of the other four becomes dissolved. The element of water drieth up if food be not taken. The element of air disappears if the breath be restrained. The element of space disappears if the excretions cease. So also the element of fire becomes extinguished if food does not go in. The element of earth breaks in pieces in consequence of diseases, wounds, and other sufferings. If only one of the five becomes afflicted, the union, being dissolved, the five go away into five different directions. When the body which is a union of the elements, becomes separated into five ingredients, whither doth life go? What doth it then know? What doth it then hear? What doth it then say? This cow (that is given away to a holy Brahmana), it is said, will rescue me in the other world. The animal, however, that is given away, itself dies. Whom then will this cow rescue? The taker of the cow (in gift) and the giver are both equal (in being both subject to death). Both of them meet with extinction in this world. How then will they meet again? How will the person that has been eaten up by birds, or that has been broken in pieces by a fall from a mountain summit, or that has been consumed by fire, regain life? The root of a tree that has been cut down does not grow up again. Only the seeds put forth sprouts. Where is the person who having died comes back (to some sort of new existence)? Only seeds were originally created. All this universe is the result of seeds in succession. They that die, die to perish Seeds result from seeds.'"'" SECTION CLXXXVII "'"Bhrigu said, 'There is no destruction of the living creature, or of what is given, or of our other acts. The creature that dies only goes into another form. The body alone dissolves away. The living creature, though depending upon the body, does not meet with destruction when the body is destroyed. It is not seen after the destruction of the physical frame just as fire is not seen after the consumption of the fuel with which it was ignited.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'If there is no destruction of the living creature like that of fire, I submit, fire itself is not seen after consumption of the fuel (that ignited it). When the supply of fuel is stopped, the fire becomes extinguished, and, as far as I know, becomes annihilated. That should surely be regarded to have met with destruction which has no longer any action, which furnishes no proof of its existence, and which no longer occupies any space.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'It is true that upon the consumption of fuel fire is no longer seen. It mingles with space because there is no longer any visible object in which to inhere, and hence it becomes incapable of perception by us. Similarly, upon leaving the body, the creature lives in space, and cannot be seen in consequence of its extreme subtility as is doubtless the case with fire. It is fire or heat that sustains the breaths called Prana and the others. Know that that heat (thus existing) is called life or the living agent. That heat which is the sustainer of the breaths, becomes extinguished in consequence of the suppression of breath. Upon that heat in the physical frame being extinguished, the frame itself loses animation. Falling down, it is transformed into earth, for that is its ultimate destination. The breath that is in all mobile and immobile objects mingles with space, and the heat that is in them follows that breath. These three (viz., space, air, and fire), mingle together. The other two (viz., water and earth), exist together in the form of earth. There is wind where space is, and there is fire where wind is. They are formless, it should be known, and become endued with form only in respect of embodied creatures.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'If in the physical frames of all living creatures there are heat, wind, earth, space and water, what, then, are the indications of living agent? Tell me these, O sinless one! I desire to know the nature of the life that is in the bodies of living beings,--bodies made up of the five primal elements, engaged in the five acts, endued with the five senses and possessed of animation. Upon the dissolution of the body which is a union of flesh and blood, and a mass of fat, sinews and bones, that which is the living agent cannot be seen. If this body, composed of the five elements, be destitute of what is called life, who or what then is that which feels misery upon the appearance of either bodily or mental pain? The living agent hears what is said, with the aid of the ears. It, however, happens again, O great Rishi, that the same agent hears not when the Mind is otherwise engaged. It seems, therefore, that that which is called the living agent serves no purpose. The whole scene that the living agent sees with eyes acting in concert with the mind, the eye beholds not, even when lying before it, if the mind be otherwise engaged. Then again, when it is under the influence of sleep, that agent neither sees nor smells, nor hears, nor speaks, nor experiences the perceptions of touch and taste. Who or what then is that which feels joy, becomes angry, gives way to sorrow, and experiences tribulation? What is that which wishes, thinks, feels aversion, and utters words?' "'"Bhrigu said, 'The mind also is made of the five elements in common with the body. For this reason it is of no consequence with respect to the acts mentioned by thee. Only the one internal Soul sustaineth the body. It is he that perceives smell, taste, sound, touch and form and other properties (that exist in external nature). That Soul, pervading all the limbs, is the witness (of the acts) of the mind endued with five attributes and residing within the body composed of the five elements. It is he who feels pleasure and pain, and when separated from him the body no longer experiences them. When there is no longer any perception of form or of touch, when there is no heat in the fire that resides within the body,--indeed, when that animal heat becomes extinguished,--the body, in consequence of its abandonment by the Soul, meets with destruction. The whole universe is composed of water. Water is the form of all embodied creatures. In that water is the Soul which is displayed in the mind. That Soul is the Creator Brahman who exists in all things. When the Soul becomes endued with vulgar attributes, it comes to be called Kshetrajna. When freed from those attributes, it comes to be called Paramatman or Supreme Soul. Know that Soul. He is inspired with universal benevolence. He resides in the body like a drop of water in a lotus. Know well that which is called Kshetrajna and which has universal benevolence. Darkness, Passion, and Goodness are the attributes of the living agent. The learned say that the Soul has Consciousness and exists with the attributes of life. The soul exerts and causes everything to exert. Persons that have a knowledge of the Soul say that the Soul is different from life. It is the Supreme Soul that has created the seven worlds and sets them agoing. There is no destruction of the living agent when the dissolution of the body takes place. Men destitute of intelligence say that it dies. That is certainly untrue. All that the living agent does is to go from one unto another body. That which is called death is only the dissolution of the body. It is thus that the Soul, wrapped in diverse forms, migrates from form to form, unseen and unnoticed by others. Persons possessed of true Knowledge behold the Soul by their keen and subtile intelligence. The man of wisdom, living on frugal fare, and with heart cleansed of all sins, devoting himself to yoga meditation, succeeds every night, before sleep and after sleep, in beholding his Soul by the aid of his Soul.[561] In consequence of a contented heart, and by abandoning all acts good and bad, one can obtain infinite happiness by depending upon one's own Soul. The king, of fiery effulgence, residing within the mind is called the living agent. It is from that Lord of everything that this creation has sprung. Even this is the conclusion to be arrived at in the enquiry into the origin of creatures and the soul.'"'" SECTION CLXXXVIII "'"Bhrigu said, 'Brahman first created a few Brahmanas who came to be called Prajapatis (lords of creation). Possessed of splendour equal to that of the fire or the Sun, they were created out of the energy of that First-born Being. The puissant Lord then created Truth, Duty, Penance, the eternal Vedas, all kinds of pious acts, and Purity, for enabling creatures to attain to heaven (by practising them). After this, the Deities and the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Daityas, the Asuras, the great snakes, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, the Serpents, the Pisachas, and human beings with their four divisions, viz., Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras, O best of regenerate ones, and all the other orders of creatures that exist, were created. The complexion the Brahmanas obtained was white; that which the Kshatriyas obtained was red; that which the Vaisyas got was yellow; and that which was given to the Sudras was black.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'If the distinction between the four orders (of human beings) be made by means only of colour (attribute), then it seems that all the four orders have been mingled together.[562] Lust, wrath, fear, cupidity, grief, anxiety, hunger, toil, possess and prevail over all men. How can men be distinguished by the possession of attributes? The bodies of all men emit sweat, urine, faeces, phlegm, bile, and blood. How then can men be distributed into classes? Of mobile objects the number is infinite; the species also of immobile objects are innumerable. How, then, can objects of such very great diversity be distributed into classes?' "'"Bhrigu said, 'There is really no distinction between the different orders. The whole world at first consisted of Brahmanas. Created (equal) by Brahman, men have, in consequence of their acts, become distributed into different orders. They that became fond of indulging in desire and enjoying pleasures, possessed of the attributes of severity and wrath, endued with courage, and unmindful of the duties of piety and worship,--these Brahmanas possessing the attribute of Passion,--became Kshatriyas. Those Brahmanas again who, without attending to the duties laid down for them, became possessed of both the attributes of Goodness and Passion, and took to the professions of cattle-rearing and agriculture, became Vaisyas. Those Brahmanas again that became fond of untruth and injuring other creatures, possessed of cupidity,--engaged in all kinds of acts for a living, and fallen away from purity of behaviour, and thus wedded to the attribute of Darkness, became Sudras. Separated by these occupations, Brahmanas, falling away from their own order, became members of the other three orders. All the four orders, therefore, have always the right to the performance of all pious duties and of sacrifices. Even thus were the four orders at first created equal by Brahman who ordained for all of them (the observances disclosed in) the words of Brahma (in the Vedas). Through cupidity alone, many fell away, and became possessed by ignorance. The Brahmanas are always devoted to the scriptures on Brahma; and mindful of vows and restraints, are capable of grasping the conception of Brahma. Their penances therefore, never go for nothing. They amongst them are not Brahmanas that are incapable of understanding that every created thing is Supreme Brahma. These, falling away, became members of diverse (inferior) orders. Losing the light of knowledge, and betaking themselves to an unrestrained course of conduct, they take birth as Pisachas and Rakshasas and Pretas and as individuals of diverse Mleccha species. The great Rishis who at the beginning sprang into life (through Brahman's Will) subsequently created, by means of their penances, men devoted to the duties ordained for them and attached to the rites laid down in the Eternal Vedas. That other Creation, however, which is eternal and undecaying, which is based upon Brahma and has sprung from the Primeval God, and which has its refuge upon yoga, is a mental one.'"'"[563] SECTION CLXXXIX "'"Bharadwaja said, 'By what acts does one become a Brahmana? By what, a Kshatriya? O best of regenerate ones, by what acts again does one become a Vaisya or a Sudra? Tell me this, O foremost of speakers.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'That person is called a Brahmana who has been sanctified by such rites as those called jata and others; who is pure in behaviour; who is engaged in studying the Vedas; who is devoted to the six well-known acts (of ablutions every morning and evening, silent recitation of mantras, pouring libations on the sacrificial fire, worshipping the deities, doing the duties of hospitality to guests, and offering food to the Viswedevas); who is properly observant of all pious acts; who never takes food without having offered it duly to gods and guests; who is filled with reverence for his preceptor; and who is always devoted to vows and truth. He is called a Brahmana in whom are truth, gifts, abstention from injury to others, compassion, shame, benevolence,[564] and penance. He who is engaged in the profession of battle, who studies the Vedas, who makes gifts (to Brahmanas) and takes wealth (from those he protects) is called a Kshatriya. He who earns fame from keep of cattle, who is employed in agriculture and the means of acquiring wealth, who is pure in behaviour and attends to the study of the Vedas, is called a Vaisya.[565] He who takes pleasure in eating every kind of food, who is engaged in doing every kind of work, who is impure in behaviour, who does not study the Vedas, and whose conduct is unclean, is said to be a Sudra. If these characteristics be observable in a Sudra, and if they be not found in a Brahmana, then such a Sudra is no Sudra, and, such a Brahmana is no Brahmana. By every means should cupidity and wrath be restrained. This as also self-restraint, are the highest results of Knowledge. Those two passions (viz., cupidity and wrath), should, with one's whole heart, be resisted. They make their appearance for destroying one's highest good. One should always protect one's prosperity from one's wrath, one's penances from pride; one's knowledge from honour and disgrace; and one's soul from error. That intelligent person, O regenerate one, who does all acts without desire of fruit, whose whole wealth exists for charity, and who performs the daily Homa, is a real Renouncer.[566] One should conduct oneself as a friend to all creatures, abstaining from all acts of injury. Rejecting the acceptance of all gifts, one should, by the aid of one's own intelligence, be a complete master of one's passions. One should live in one's soul where there can be no grief. One would then have no fear here and attain to a fearless region hereafter. One should live always devoted to penances, and with all passions completely restrained; observing the vow of taciturnity, and with soul concentrated on itself; desirous of conquering the unconquered senses, and unattached in the midst of attachments. All things that can be perceived by the senses are called Manifest. All, however, that is Unmanifest, that is beyond the ken of the senses, that can be ascertained only by the subtile senses, should be sought to be known.[567] If there be no faith, one will never succeed in attaining to that subtile sense. Therefore, one should hold oneself in faith. The mind should be united with Prana, and Prana should then be held within Brahma. By dissociating oneself from all attachments, one may obtain absorption into Brahma. There is no need of attending to any other thing. A Brahmana can easily attain to Brahma by the path of Renunciation. The indications of a Brahmana are purity, good behaviour and compassion unto all creatures.'"'" SECTION CXC "'"Bhrigu said, 'Truth is Brahma; Truth is Penance; it is Truth that creates all creatures. It is by Truth that the whole universe is upheld; and it is with the aid of Truth that one goes to heaven. Untruth is only another form of Darkness. It is Darkness that leads downwards. Those who are afflicted by Darkness and covered by it fail to behold the lighted regions of heaven. It has been said that Heaven is Light and that Hell is Darkness. The creatures that dwell in the universe may obtain both heaven and hell. In this world also, truth and untruth lead to opposite courses of conduct and opposite indications, such as Righteousness and Unrighteousness, light and darkness, pleasure and pain. Amongst these, that which is Truth is Righteousness; that which is Righteousness is Light; and that which is Light is Happiness. Similarly, that which is Untruth is Unrighteousness; that which is Unrighteousness is Darkness; and that which is Darkness is Sorrow or Misery. In this respect it is said that they that are possessed of wisdom, beholding that the world of lire is overwhelmed with sorrow, both bodily and mental, and with happiness that is sure to end in misery, never suffer themselves to be stupefied. He that is Wise will strive to rescue himself from sorrow. The happiness of living creatures is unstable both here and hereafter.[568] The happiness of creatures that are overwhelmed by Darkness disappears like the splendour of the Moon when afflicted by Rahu.[569] Happiness is said to be of two kinds, viz., bodily and mental. Both in this and the other world, the visible and the invisible fruits (of action) are specified (in the Vedas) for the sake of happiness.[570] There is nothing more important than happiness and among the fruits or consequences of the triple aggregate. Happiness is desirable. It is an attribute of the Soul. Both Virtue and Profit are sought for its sake. Virtue is its root. This, indeed, is its origin. All acts have for their end the attainment of happiness.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'You have said that happiness is the highest object. I do not comprehend this. This attribute of the soul that (you say) is so desirable is not sought by the Rishis who are regarded to be engaged in something promising a higher reward. It is heard that the Creator of the three worlds, viz., the puissant Brahman, lives alone, observant of the vow of Brahmacharya. He never devotes himself to the happiness obtainable from the gratification of desire. Also, the divine Master of the universe, the lord of Uma, reduced Kama (the deity of desire) to extinction. For this reason, we say that happiness is not acceptable to high-souled people. Nor does it appear to be a high attribute of the Soul. I cannot put faith in what thy divine self has said, viz., that there is nothing higher than happiness. That there are two kinds of consequences in respect of our acts, viz., the springing of happiness from good acts and of sorrow from sinful acts, is only a saying that is current in the world.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'On this it is said as follows: from Untruth springs Darkness. They that are overwhelmed by Darkness pursue only Unrighteousness and not Righteousness, being overmastered by wrath, covetousness, malice, falsehood, and similar evils. They never obtain happiness either here or hereafter. On the other hand, they are afflicted by various kinds of disease and pain and trouble. They are also tortured by Death, imprisonment, and diverse other griefs of that kind, and by the sorrows, attending on hunger and thirst and toil. They are also pained by the numerous bodily griefs that arise from rain and wind and burning heat and exceeding cold. They are also overwhelmed by numerous mental griefs caused by loss of wealth and separation from friends, as also by griefs caused by decrepitude and death. They that are not touched by these diverse kinds of physical and mental afflictions, know what happiness is. These evils are never found in heaven. There delicious breezes blow. In heaven there is also perpetual fragrance. In heaven there is no hunger, no thirst, no decrepitude, no sin. In this world there is both happiness and misery. In hell there is only misery. Therefore, happiness is the highest object of acquisition. The Earth is the progenitrix of all creatures. Females partake of her nature. The male animal is like Prajapati himself. The vital seed, it should be known, is the creative energy. In this way did Brahman ordain in days of old that the creation should go on. Each, affected by his own acts, obtains happiness or misery.'"'"[571] SECTION CXCI "'"Bharadwaja said, 'What has been said to be the consequence of gift? What of Righteousness? What of conduct? What of Penances well-performed? What of the study and recitation of the Vedas? And what of pouring libations upon the fire?' "'"Bhrigu said, 'By pouring libations on the sacred fire, sin is burnt. By study of the Vedas one obtains blessed tranquillity. By gift, one obtains pleasure and articles of enjoyment. By Penances, one acquires blessed heaven. Gift is said to be of two kinds: gifts for the other world, and those for this. Whatever is given to the good attends the giver in the other world. Whatever is given to those that are not good produces consequences enjoyable here. The consequences of gifts are commensurate with the gifts themselves.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'What course of duties should be performed by whom? What also are the characteristics of duty? How many kinds of duty are there? It behoveth thee to tell me these.'[572] "'"Bhrigu said, 'Those wise men who are engaged in practising the duties laid down for them succeed in obtaining heaven as their reward. By doing otherwise people become guilty of folly.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'It behoveth thee to tell me about the four modes of life that were formerly laid down by Brahman, and the practices ordained for each of them.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'In days of yore, the divine Brahman, for benefiting the world, and for the protection of righteousness, indicated four modes of life.[573] Amongst them, residence in the abode of the preceptor is mentioned as the first (in order of time). He who is in this mode of life should have his soul cleansed by purity of conduct, by Vedic rites, and by restraints and vows and humility. He should worship the morning and evening twilights, the Sun, his own sacred fire, and the deities. He should cast off procrastination and idleness. He should cleanse his soul by saluting his preceptor, by studying the Vedas, and by listening to his preceptor's instructions. He should perform his ablutions thrice (viz., in the morning, noon, and evening). He should lead a life of celibacy; attend to his sacred fire; dutifully serve his preceptor; daily go out on a round of mendicancy (for supporting himself); and give ungrudgingly unto his preceptor the whole of what is obtained in alms. Willingly accomplishing everything that the commands of his preceptor may indicate, he should be ready to receive such Vedic instruction as his preceptor may give him as a favour.[574] On this subject there is a verse: That Brahmana who obtains his Veda by attending with reverence upon his preceptor, succeeds in attaining to heaven and obtains the fruition of all his desires. The domestic mode of life is called the second (in point of time). We shall explain to you all the pious acts and indications of that mode. Those who having completed their residence in the preceptor's abode return home, who are of pious conduct, who desire the fruits of a virtuous course of behaviour with spouses in their company, have this mode of life ordained for them. In it Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure, may all be obtained. It is (thus) suited to the cultivation of the triple aggregate. Acquiring wealth by irreproachable acts, or with wealth of high efficacy which is obtained from recitation of the Vedas, or living upon such means as are utilised by the regenerate Rishis,[575] or with the produce of mountains and mines, or with the wealth represented by the offerings made in sacrifices and on the termination of vows and other observances, and those made unto deities, the householder should lead this mode of life. That mode of life is regarded as the root of all the others. They who are residents in the abodes of preceptors, they who lead lives of mendicancy, and others who live in the observance of vows and restraints to which they are pledged, derive from this mode the means they live upon, the offerings they make unto the Pitris and the deities, and, in short, their entire support. The third mode of life is called the Forest-life. For those that lead it, there is no storing of wealth and articles.[576] Generally, these pious and good men, subsisting upon good food, and engaged in studying the Vedas, roam ever the earth for journeying to tirthas and visiting diverse realms. Standing up, advancing forward, sweet speeches uttered in sincerity, gifts according to the measure of the giver's competence, offer of seats and beds of the best kind, and presents of excellent food, are some of the means for showing them regard. On this subject there is a verse: If a guest turns away from a house with expectations unfulfilled, he is supposed to take away the merits of the householder and leave the latter all his misdeeds. Then again in the domestic mode of life the deities are gratified by sacrifices and other religious rites; the Pitris by the performance of obsequial rites; the Rishis by cultivation of (Vedic) knowledge, by listening to the instructions of preceptors, and by committing to memory the scriptures; and lastly the Creator by begetting children.[577] On this subject there are two verses: One in the observance of this mode of life should speak upon all creatures words breathing affection and agreeable to the ears. To give pain, to inflict mortifications, and harsh words, are all censurable. Insult, arrogance, and deceit, also should be avoided. Abstention from injury, truth, and absence of wrath, produce the merit of penances in all the (four) modes of life. In the domestic mode of life these are allowed, viz., the use and enjoyment of floral garlands, ornaments, robes, perfumed oils and unguents; enjoyment of pleasures derived from dancing and music, both vocal and instrumental, and all sights and scenes that are agreeable to the sight; the enjoyment of various kinds of viands and drinks belonging to the principal orders of edibles, viz., those that are swallowed, those that are lapped, those that are quaffed, and those that are sucked; and the enjoyment of pleasures derivable from sports and every kind of amusement and the gratification of desires. That man who in the observance of this mode of life seeks the acquisition of the triple aggregate (viz., Religion, Wealth, and Pleasure), with that of the great end of the three attributes of Goodness and Passion and Darkness,[578] enjoys great happiness here and at last attains to the end that is reserved for persons that are virtuous and good.[579] Even that householder who observes the duties of his mode of life by following the practice of picking up fallen grains of corn from the cracks of fields and who abandons sensual pleasure and attachment to action, does not find it difficult to obtain heaven.'"'" SECTION CXCII "'"Bhrigu said, 'Forest recluses seeking the acquisition of virtue go to sacred waters and rivers and springs, and undergo penances in lone and secluded woods abounding with deer and buffaloes and boars and tigers and wild elephants. They forsake all kinds of robes and food and enjoyments for which people living in society have a taste. They subsist abstemiously upon wild herbs and fruits and roots and leaves of diverse kinds. The bare ground is their seat. They lie down on the bare earth or rocks or pebbles or gravel or sand or ashes. They cover their limbs with grass and animal skins and barks of trees. They never shave their heads and beards or pare their nails. They perform their ablutions at regular intervals. They pour libations on the ground, as also on the sacred fire at the proper time without fail. They never enjoy any rest till completion of their daily gathering of the sacred fuel (for their homa fires) and sacred grass and flowers (for sacrifice and worship) and till they have swept and rubbed clean (their sacrificial altars). They bear without the least regard cold and heat, and rain and wind, and, therefore, the skin of their bodies is cracked all over; and in consequence of observing and laying down for themselves various kinds of rites and vows and acts, their flesh and blood and skin and bones become emaciated.[580] Endued with great patience and fortitude, they live, always practising the quality of goodness. That person who, with restrained soul, observes such a course of duties originally ordained by regenerate Rishis, burns all his sins like fire and obtains regions of felicity difficult of attainment.' "'"'I shall now describe the conduct of those called Parivrajakas. That is as follows: freeing themselves from attachment to the sacred fire, wealth, spouse and children, and robes, seats, beds, and such other objects of enjoyment, and breaking the bonds of affection, they roam about, regarding with an equal eye a clump of earth or rock and gold. They never set their hearts on the acquisition or enjoyment of the triple aggregate. They cast an equal eye on foes and friends and neutrals or strangers. They never injure, in thought, word, or deed, immobile things or creatures that are viviparous, or oviparous or born of filth, or called vegetables. They have no homes. They roam over hills and mountains, upon shores of rivers or seas, under shades of trees, and among temples of deities. They may go to towns or villages for residence. In a town, however, they should not live for more than five nights, while in a village their residence should never exceed one night. Entering a town or a village, they should, for the support of life, repair to the abodes of only Brahmanas of liberal deeds.[581] They should never ask for any alms except what is thrown into the (wooden) bowls they carry. They should free themselves from lust, wrath, pride, cupidity, delusion, miserliness, deceit, slander, vanity, and injury to living creatures. On this subject there are some verses: that person, who, observing the vow of taciturnity, roveth without giving any creature cause of fear, is never inspired with any fear himself by any creature. That learned person who performs the Agnihotra (not by kindling of external fire but) with the aid of the fire that is his own body, indeed, who poureth libations into his own mouth and upon the fire that exists in his own body, succeeds in attaining to numerous regions of felicity in consequence of that fire being fed with such libations obtained by a life of eleemosynation. That person of regenerate birth who observes in the aforesaid way this mode of life having Emancipation for its end, with a pure heart and with an understanding freed from resolution, attains to Brahma after the manner of a tranquil ray of light that is not fed by any blazing fuel.' "'"Bharadwaja said, 'Beyond this region (that we inhabit) there is a region that we have heard of but never seen. I desire to know all about it. It behoveth thee to describe it to me.' "'"Bhrigu said, 'Towards the north, on the other side of Himavat, which is sacred and possessed of every merit, there is a region that is sacred, blessed, and highly desirable. That is called the other world.[582] The men that inhabit that region are righteous in act, pious, of pure hearts, freed from cupidity and errors of judgment, and not subject to afflictions of any kind. That region is, indeed, equal to heaven, possessed as it is of such excellent attributes. Death comes there at the proper season. Diseases never touch the inhabitants.[583] Nobody cherishes any desire for the wives of other people. Every one is devoted to his own wife. These people do not afflict or kill one another, or covet one another's things. There no sin occurs, no doubt arises.[584] There the fruits of all (religious) acts are visible. There some enjoy seats and drinks and viands of the best kind, and live within palaces and mansions. There some, adorned with ornaments of gold, surround themselves with every article of enjoyment. There are, again, some that eat very abstemiously, for only keeping body and soul together. There some, with great toil, seek to hold the life-breaths.[585] Here (in this region that is inhabited by us), some men are devoted to righteousness and some to deceit. Some are happy and some miserable; some are poor and some rich. Here toil, and fear and delusion, and painful hunger make their appearance. Here cupidity for wealth is also seen, a passion that stupefies even those that are learned amongst men. Here diverse opinions prevail, broached by those that do deeds which are righteous or sinful. That man possessed of wisdom who knows all those opinions which may be divided into two kinds, is never stained by sin. Deceit with fraud, theft, slander, malice, oppression, injury, treachery, and untruth, are vices that detract from the merit of his penances who practises them. He, on the other hand, possessed of learning, who avoids them, finds the merit of his penances increased. Here there is much reflection about acts that are righteous and those that are unrighteous. This region that we inhabit is the field of action. Having done good and evil here, one obtains good for his good acts and evil for acts that are evil.[586] Here the very Creator in days of yore, and all the gods with the Rishis, having performed proper penances, become cleansed and attain to Brahma.[587] The northern portion of the earth is highly auspicious and sacred. Those belonging to this region (that we inhabit) that are doers of righteous deeds or that show regard for yoga, become born in that region. Others (that are of a different disposition) take their births in the intermediate species. Some again, when their allotted periods run out, become lost on earth.[588] Employed in feeding upon one another and stained by cupidity and delusion, these men return to this very region without being able to go (after death) to that northern region. Those men of wisdom who with vows and observant of Brahmacharyya listen with veneration to the instructions of preceptors, succeed in knowing the ends reserved for all classes of men. I have now told thee in brief the course of duties ordained by Brahman. He, indeed, is said to be possessed of intelligence who knows what is righteousness and what its reverse in this world.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus, O king, did Bhrigu speak unto Bharadwaja of great energy. Of soul highly virtuous, the latter became filled with wonder and worshipped the great sage with veneration. Thus, O monarch, the origin of the universe has been narrated to thee in detail. What, O thou of great wisdom, dost thou wish to hear after this?"'" SECTION CXCIII "'Yudhishthira said, "I think, O grandsire, that thou art acquainted with everything, O thou that art conversant with duties. I desire to hear thee discourse to me, O sinless one, of the ordinances about conduct." "'Bhishma said, "They that are of bad conduct, of bad acts, of wicked understanding, and excessive rashness, are called evil or wicked men. They, however, that are called good are distinguished by purity of conduct and practices. They are good men who never answer calls of nature on the high roads, in cow-pens, or in fields overgrown with paddy. Having finished the necessary acts one should perform his ablutions in river-water and gratify the deities with oblations of water. This is said to be the duty of all men. Surya should be always worshipped. One should not sleep after sunrise. Morning and evening the prayers (ordained in the scriptures) should be said, sitting with face turned towards the east and towards the west respectively. Washing the five limbs,[589] one should eat silently with face turned towards the east. One should never disparage the food which one is to eat. One should eat food that is good to the taste. After eating one should wash one's hands and rise.[590] One should never go to sleep at night with wet feet. The celestial Rishi Narada said that these are indications of good conduct. One should every day circumambulate a sacred spot, a bull, a sacred image, a cow-pen, a place where four roads meet, a pious Brahmana, and sacred tree. One should not make distinctions between one's guests and attendants and kinsmen in matters of food. Equality (in this respect) with servants is applauded. Eating (twice a day) in the morning and evening is an ordinance of the gods. It is not laid down that one should eat (once more) at any intermediate period. He who eats according to this rule acquires the merit of a fast.[591] At the hours ordained for Homa one should pour libations on the sacred fire. Without seeking the companionship of other people's wives, the man of wisdom who seeks his own wife in her season acquires the merit of Brahmacharyya. The remnants of a Brahmana's dish are like ambrosia. They are like the lacteal sustenance that is yielded by the mother's breast. People highly prize those remnants. The good, by eating them attain to Brahma. He who pounds turf to clay (for making sacrificial altars), or he who cuts grass (for making sacrificial fuel), or he who uses his nails only (and not weapons of any kind) for eating (sanctified meat), or he who always subsists on the remnants of Brahmana's dishes, or he who acts, induced by desire for reward, has not to live long in the world.[592] One who has abstained from meat (under any vow) should not take meat even if it be sanctified with mantras from the Yajurveda. One should also avoid the flesh about the vertebral column (of any animal) and the flesh of animals not slain in sacrifices.[593] Whether at one's own place or in a strange land, one should never cause one's guest to fast. Having obtained alms and other fruits of optional acts, one should offer them to one's seniors. One should offer seats to one's seniors and salute them with respect. By worshipping one's seniors, one obtains long life, fame, and prosperity. One should never behold the Sun at the moment of rising, nor should one turn one's gaze towards a naked woman that is another man's spouse. Congress with one's wife (in her season) is not sinful but it is an act that should always be done in privacy. The heart of all sacred spots and shrines is the Preceptor. The heart of all pure and cleansing things is Fire. All acts done by a good and pious person are good and laudable, including even the touching of the hair of a cow's tail. Every time one meets with another, one should make polite enquiries. The saluting of Brahmanas every morning and evening is ordained. In temples of gods, amid cows, in performing the rites of religion laid down for Brahmanas, in reading the Vedas, and in eating, the right hand should be raised.[594] The worship of Brahmanas, morning and evening, according to due rites, produces great merit. In consequence of such worship the stock-in-trade of the merchant, become abundant and the produce of the agriculturist. Great also becomes the yield of all kinds of corn and the supply of all articles that the senses can enjoy becomes copious. When giving eatables to another (seated at his dish), one should say, 'Is it sufficient?' When presenting drink, one should ask, 'Will it gratify,' and when giving sweetened milk and rice, or sugared gruel of barley, or milk with sesame or pease, one should ask 'Has it fallen?'[595] After shaving, after spitting, after bathing, and after eating, people should worship Brahmanas with reverence. Such worship is sure to bestow longevity on sickly men. One should not pass urine with face turned towards the sun, nor should one see one's own excreta. One should not lie on the same bed with a woman, nor eat with her. In addressing seniors one should never apply the pronoun you to them or take their names. Thouing or the taking of names is not censurable in addressing inferiors or equals in age.[596] The hearts of sinful men betray the sins committed by them. Those sinful men that conceal their conscious sins from good men meet with destruction. Only ignorant fools seek to conceal the sins which they commit consciously. It is true that human beings do not see those sins but the gods see them. A sin concealed by another sin leads to fresh sins. An act of merit, again, if concealed by an act of merit, increases the merit. The acts of a virtuous man always follow in the wake of virtue. A man destitute of understanding never thinks of the sins committed by him. Those sins, however, overtake the doer that has fallen away from the scriptures. As Rahu comes to Chandra (at his proper time), those sinful acts come to the foolish man.[597] The objects that are stored with expectation are scarcely enjoyed. Such storing is never applauded by the wise, for death waits for no one (but snatches his prey whether the latter be ready or unready). The wise have said that the righteousness of all creatures is an attribute of the mind. For this reason, one should, in one's mind, do good to all.[598] One should practise virtue singly. In the practice of virtue one has no need for the help of others. If one obtains only the ordinances of the scriptures, what can an associate do?[599] Righteousness is the origin of mankind. Righteousness is the ambrosia of the gods. After death, men enjoy, through Righteousness, eternal happiness."'" SECTION CXCIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what and of what nature is that which is called by the name of Adhyatma and which is laid down for every person.[600] O thou that art acquainted with Brahma, whence has this universe consisting of mobile and immobile things, been created? When universal destruction sets in, to whom does it go? It behoveth thee to discourse to me upon this topic."[601] "'Bhishma said, "This Adhyatma, O son of Pritha, that thou askest me about, I will presently discourse upon. It is highly agreeable and productive of great felicity. Great teachers have (before this) shown the truths about Creation and the Destruction (of the universe). Knowing those truths, a person may obtain, even in this world, great satisfaction and felicity. Such knowledge may lead also to the acquisition of great fruits, and it is highly beneficial to all creatures. Earth, air, space, water, and light numbered as the fifth, are regarded as Great Creatures. These constitute both the origin and the destruction of all created objects. Unto him from whom these great primal elements take their origin, they return repeatedly, severing themselves from all creatures (into whose compositions they enter), even like the waves of the ocean (subsiding into that from which they seem to take their rise). As the tortoise stretches its limbs and withdraws them again, even so the Supreme Soul creates all objects and again withdraws into Himself. The Creator places the five primal elements in all created objects in different proportions. The living creature, however, does not see it (through ignorance). Sound, the organs of hearing, and all holes,--these three,--spring from Space as their progenitor. Touch, action, and skin are the triple attributes of the Wind. Form, eye, and digestion are the triple attributes of Fire or Energy. Taste, all liquid secretions, and the tongue represent the three attributes of Water. Scents, the nose, and the body are the triple properties of Earth. The great (primal) elements are five. The mind is the sixth. The senses and the mind, O Bharata, are (the sources of all) the perceptions of a living creature.[602] The seventh is called the understanding; and the eighth is the soul.[603] The senses are for perceiving; the mind (unable to deal with those perceptions) produces uncertainty. The understanding reduces all perceptions to certainty. The Soul exists as a witness (without acting). All that is above the two feet, all that is behind, and all that is above, are seen by the Soul. Know that the Soul pervades the entire being without any space being left unoccupied. All men should know the senses, the mind, and the understanding fully. The three states or qualities called Darkness, Passion, and Goodness, exist, dependent on the senses, the mind, and the understanding.[604] Man, by apprehending with the aid of his intelligence, the manner in which creatures come and leave the world, is sure to gradually attain to steadfast tranquillity. The three qualities (already mentioned, viz., Darkness, Passion, and Goodness), lead the understanding (to worldly attachments). In this respect, the Understanding (or Intelligence) is identical with the Senses and the Mind. The Understanding, therefore, is identical with the six (the five senses and the mind), and also with the objects comprehended by it. When, however, the Understanding is destroyed, the three qualities (of Darkness, Passion, and Goodness) are incapable of leading to action.[605] This universe of immobile and mobile things consists of that intelligence. It is from that Intelligence that everything arises and it is into it that everything subsides. For this reason, the scriptures indicate that everything is a manifestation of Intelligence. That by which one hears is the ear. That by which one smells is called the organ of smell, and that by which one distinguishes the tastes is called the tongue. By the coat that covers the body one acquires perception of touch. That which is called the Intelligence undergoes modifications.[606] When the Intelligence desires anything it comes to be called Mind. The foundations upon which the Intelligence rests are five in number, each serving a different purpose. They are called the senses. The invisible principle, viz., Intelligence rests on them. The Intelligence that exists in a living creature concerns itself with the three states (called Passion, Darkness, and Goodness). Sometimes it obtains joy and sometimes misery. Sometimes it becomes divested of both joy and misery. Even thus the Intelligence exists in the minds of all men. Sometimes the Intelligence which is made up of the triple states (already mentioned), transcends those three states (by yoga), like the lord of rivers, viz., the Ocean, with his surges, transgressing his high continents.[607] That Intelligence which transcends the three qualities exists in the mind in a pure state of (unmodified) existence alone. The quality of Darkness, however, that impels to action, soon pursues it. At that time, the Intelligence sets all the senses to action. The properties of the three are even thus: joy dwells in Goodness; sorrow in Passion; delusion in Darkness. All the states that exist (of the mind) are included in the three (that have been named). I have now, O Bharata, told thee about the course of the Understanding. An intelligent man should subdue all his senses. The three qualities of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness, are always attached to living creatures. Three kinds of intelligence also are noticeable in every creature, viz., that which depends upon Goodness, that upon Passion, and that upon Darkness, O Bharata. The quality of Goodness brings happiness; the quality of Passion produces sorrow; and if these two combine with the quality of Darkness, then neither happiness nor sorrow is produced (but, instead, only delusion or error). Every state of happiness that appears in the body or the mind is said to be due to the quality of Goodness. A state of sorrow, disagreeable to oneself, that comes, is due to nothing but the quality of Passion. One should never think of it with fear.[608] That state, again, which is allied with delusion and error, and in consequence of which one knows not what to do, which is unascertainable and unknown, should be regarded as belonging to the quality of Darkness.[609] Gladness, satisfaction, delight, happiness, tranquillity of heart, these are the properties of the state of Goodness. Man sometimes obtains a measure of them. Discontent, heart-burning, grief, cupidity, vindictiveness are all indications of the state of Passion. They are seen with or without adequate causes for producing them. Disgrace, delusion, error, sleep and stupefaction, that overtake one through excess of ill-luck, are the various properties of the state of Darkness.[610] That person whose mind is far-reaching, capable of extending in all directions, mistrustful in respect of winning the objects it desires, and well-restrained, is happy both here and hereafter.[611] Mark the distinction between these two subtile things, viz., Intelligence and Soul. One of these (viz., intelligence), puts forth the qualities. The other (viz., the Soul), does nothing of the kind. A gnat and a fig may be seen to be united with each other. Though united, each however is distinct from the other. Similarly, Intelligence and Soul, though distinguished from each other, by their respective natures, yet they may always be seen to exist in a state of union. A fish and water exist in a state of union. Each, however, is different from the other. The same is the case with Intelligence and Soul. The qualities do not know the Soul, but the Soul knows them all. The Soul is the spectator of the qualities and regards them all as proceeding from itself. The soul, acting through the senses, the mind, and the understanding numbering as the seventh, all of which are inactive and have no self-consciousness, discovers the objects (amid which it exists) like a (covered) lamp showing all objects around it by shedding its rays through an aperture in the covering. The understanding or Intelligence creates all the qualities. The Soul only beholds them (as a witness). Even such is certainly the connection between the intelligence and the Soul.[612] There is no refuge on which either Intelligence or Soul depends. The Understanding creates the mind, but never the qualities. When the soul, by means of the mind, sufficiently restrains the rays that emanate from the senses, it is then that it becomes manifest (to the Understanding) like a lamp burning within a vessel that covers it. That person who renounces all ordinary acts, practises penances, devotes himself to study the Soul, taking a delight therein, and regards himself as the Soul of all creatures, acquires a high end. As an aquatic fowl, while moving over the waters, is never drenched in that element, even thus does a person of wisdom move (in the world) among creatures. By the aid of one's intelligence one should act in the world after this fashion, without grief, without joy, with an equal eye for all, and destitute of malice and envy. One living in this way succeeds in creating the qualities (instead of being oneself affected by them), like a spider creating threads.[613] The qualities should, indeed, be regarded as the threads of the spider. Some say that the qualities in respect of such men are not lost. Some say that they are all lost. Those who say that they are not lost rely upon the revealed scriptures (viz., the Srutis), which do not contain any declaration to the contrary. They, on the other hand, who say that the qualities are all lost rely on the Smritis. Reflecting upon both these opinions, one should judge oneself as to which of them is right. One should thus get over this hard and knotty question which is capable of disturbing the understanding by doubt, and thereby win happiness. When that doubt will be removed, one will no longer have to indulge in sorrow of any kind. Men of filthy hearts may by knowledge obtain success like persons plunging in a well-filled stream purifying themselves of all filth. One who has to cross a broad river does not feel happy at only seeing the other shore. If the case were otherwise (i.e., if by only beholding the other shore one could reach it by a boat), then might one become happy. The matter is otherwise with one acquainted with the Truth. The mere knowledge of Truth will bring him happiness. As soon as such knowledge begins to bear fruits, the person may be regarded to have reached the other shore. They who thus know the Soul as freed from all worldly objects and is but the One, are said to obtain high and excellent knowledge.[614] A person by knowing the origin and the end of all creatures, which is even such, and by reflecting upon the matter, gradually obtains infinite happiness. He that has understood the triple aggregate (viz., that it is liable to destruction instead of being eternal), and reflecting upon it, casts it away, succeeds by yoga to behold the Truth and obtain perfect felicity. The Soul is incapable of being seen unless the senses, which are employed on diverse objects and are difficult of being controlled, be all duly restrained. He that knows this is really wise. What other indication is there of a wise man? Acquiring this knowledge, men possessed of intelligence regard themselves to be crowned with success. That which inspires the ignorant with fear can never inspire fear in persons of Knowledge. There is no higher end for anybody (than Emancipation). In consequence, however, of the excess or otherwise of good qualities, the sages say that differences are observable in respect of the degree of Emancipation. A person by acting without expectation of fruits succeeds (by those acts) in annihilating his sinful acts of a former period. To one possessed of wisdom, the acts of a former period (thus washed off) and those of this life also (which are accomplished without expectation of fruit), do not become productive of any disagreeable consequence (such as immurement in hell). But how can acts, if he continues to be engaged in accomplishing acts, bring about what is agreeable (viz., Emancipation)?[615] People censure a person that is afflicted (with lust, envy, and other evil passions). Those vices hurl the person in his next life into diverse kinds of inferior orders.[616] Mark with close attention the vicious in this world who grieve exceedingly for the loss of their possessions (such as sons and wives, etc.). Behold also those that are gifted with judgment and who never grieve when thrown into similar circumstances. Those that are conversant with both (i.e., with gradual Emancipation and immediate Emancipation), deserve to be called truly wise."'"[617] SECTION CXCV "'Bhishma said, "I shall now, O son of Pritha, discourse to thee upon the four kinds of yoga meditation. The great Rishis, obtaining a knowledge of the same, attain to eternal success even here. Great Rishis gratified with knowledge, with hearts set upon Emancipation, and conversant with yoga, act in such a way that their yoga meditation may get on properly. These, O son of Pritha, being freed from the faults of the world, never come back (for rebirth). Liberated from liability to rebirth, they live in their original Soul-state.[618] Freed from the influence of all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, joy and sorrow, etc.), ever existing in their own (original) state, liberated (from attachments), never accepting anything (in gift), they live in places free from the companionship of wives and children, without others with whom disputes may arise, and favourable to perfect tranquillity of heart. There such a person, restraining speech, sits like a piece of wood, crushing all the senses, and with mind undividedly united by the aid of meditation (with the Supreme Soul). He has no perception of sound through the ear; no perception of touch through the skin; no perception of form through the eye; no perception of taste through the tongue. He has no perception also of scents through the organ of smell. Immersed in yoga, he would abandon all things, rapt in meditation. Possessed of great energy of mind, he has no desire for anything that excites the five senses. The wise man, withdrawing his five senses into the mind, should then fix the unstable mind with the five senses (into the Intellect). Possessed of patience, the yogin should fix his mind which always wanders (among worldly objects), so that his five gates (under the influence of training) may be made stable in respect of things that are themselves unstable. He should, in the firmament of the heart, fix his mind into the path of meditation, making it independent of the body or any other refuge. I have spoken of the path of meditation as the first, since the yogin has first to crush his senses and the mind (and direct them to that path). The mind, which constitutes the sixth, when thus restrained, seeks to flash out like the capricious and flighty lightning moving in frolic among the clouds. As a drop of water on a (lotus) leaf is unstable and moves about in all directions, even so becomes the yogin's mind when first fixed on the path of meditation. When fixed, for a while the mind stays in that path. When, however, it strays again into the path of the wind, it becomes as flighty as the wind. The person conversant with the ways of yoga-meditation, undiscouraged by this, never regarding the loss of the toil undergone, casting aside idleness and malice, should again direct his mind to meditation. Observing the vow of silence, when one begins to set his mind on yoga, then discrimination, knowledge, and power to avoid evil, are gained by him.[619] Though feeling annoyed in consequence of the flightiness of his mind, he should fix it (in meditation). The yogin should never despair, but seek his own good. As a heap of dust or ashes, or of burnt cow-dung, when drenched with water, does not seem to be soaked, indeed, as it continues dry if drenched partially, and requires incessant drenching before it becomes thoroughly soaked, even thus should the yogin gradually control all his senses. He should gradually withdraw them (from all objects). The man that acts in this way succeeds in controlling them. One, O Bharata, by oneself directing one's mind and senses to the path of meditation, succeeds in bringing them under perfect control by steadfast yoga. The felicity that he feels who has succeeded in controlling his mind and senses is such that its like can never be obtained through Exertion or Destiny.[620] United with such felicity, he continues to take a pleasure in the act of meditation. Even in this way yogins attain to Nirvana which is highly blessed."'" SECTION CXCVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast discoursed on the four modes of life and their duties. Thou hast also spoken of the duties of kings. Thou hast recited many histories of diverse kinds and connected with diverse topics. I have also heard from thee, O thou of great intelligence, many discourses connected with morality. I have, however, one doubt. It behoveth thee to resolve it. I wish, O Bharata, to hear of the fruits that silent Reciters of sacred mantras acquire (by their practice). What are the fruits that have been indicated for such men? What is that region to which they go after death? It behoveth thee also, O sinless one, to tell me all the rules that have been laid down in respect of such silent recitation. When the word Reciter is uttered, what shall I understand by it? Is such a man to be regarded as following the ordinances of Sankhya or yoga or work?[621] Or, is such a man to be regarded as observing the ordinances about (mental) sacrifices? How is the path of the Reciters to be called? Thou art, as I think, of universal knowledge. Tell me all this." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old history of what transpired between Yama, Time, and a certain Brahmana. Sages conversant with the means of attaining to Emancipation have spoken of two methods, viz., the Sankhya and the yoga. Amongst these, in the former, which is otherwise called the Vedanta, Renunciation has been preached with respect to silent recitation. The declarations of the Vedas preach Abstention (from rites), are fraught with tranquillity, and are concerned with Brahma.[622] Indeed, the two paths spoken of by sages bent on achieving what is for their good, viz., Sankhya and yoga, are such that they are both concerned and again unconcerned (with silent recitations).[623] The manner in which silent recitation is connected (with each of the two paths) and the cause I shall now explain. In both as in the case of silent recitation, are needed the subduing of the senses and the fixing of the mind (after withdrawal from external objects); as also truth keeping up of the (sacred) fire, residence in solitude, meditation, penance, self-restraint, forgiveness, benevolence, abstemiousness in respect of food, withdrawal from worldly attachments, the absence of talkativeness, and tranquillity. These constitute a sacrifice in acts (leading to the fruition of desire about heaven or felicity in next life).[624] Listen now to the course that consists of abstention (from acts). The manner in which the acts of the Reciter observing the vow of Brahmacharya may cease, I will presently declare. Such a person should conduct himself in every way according to what has been (already) said by me.[625] Betaking himself to the path of abstention, he should seek to extinguish his dependence on both the External and the Internal. Sitting on kusa grass, with kusa in hand, and binding his coronal locks with kusa, he should surround himself with kusa and have kusa for robes. Bowing unto all earthly concerns, he should take leave of them and never think of them. Assuming equability by the aid of his mind, he should fix his mind on the mind itself. Reciting the highly beneficial composition (viz., the Gayatri), he meditates with the aid of his intellect on Brahma alone. Afterwards he leaves off even that, being then absorbed in concentrated contemplation.[626] In consequence of his dependence on the strength of the Gayatri which he recites, this concentrated contemplation will come of itself. By penances he attains to purity of soul, and self-restraint, and cessation of aversion and desire. Freed from attachment and delusion, above the influence of all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, joy and sorrow, etc.), he never grieves and never suffers himself to be drawn towards worldly objects. He does not regard himself as the actor nor as the enjoyer or sufferer of the consequences of his acts. He never, through selfishness, fixes his mind on anything. Without being employed in the acquisition of wealth, he abstains also from disregarding or insulting others, but not from work. The work in which he is employed is that of meditation; he is devoted to meditation, and seeks meditation unalterably. By meditation he succeeds in bringing about concentrated contemplation, and then gradually leaves off meditation itself. In that state he enjoys the felicity which attaches to the abandonment of all things. Having thoroughly mastered the principle of desire he casts off his life-breaths and then enters into the Brahmic body. Or, if he does not desire to enter into the Brahmic body, he at once goes upwards into the region of Brahma and has never to undergo rebirth. Having become tranquillity's self, and being freed from all kinds of calamity, such a person, by depending upon his own intelligence, succeeds in attaining to that Soul which is pure and immortal and which is without a stain."'" SECTION CXCVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast said that as regards Reciters, they obtain this very high end.[627] I beg to enquire whether this is their only end or there is any other to which they attain." "'Bhishma said, "Listen with concentrated attention, O puissant monarch, to the end that silent Reciters attain, and to the diverse kinds of hell into which they sink, O bull among men! That Reciter who does not at first conduct himself according to the method that has been laid down, and who cannot complete the ritual or course of discipline laid down, has to go to hell.[628] That Reciter who goes on without faith, who is not contented with his work, and who takes no pleasure in it, goes to hell, without doubt. They who follow the ritual with pride in their hearts, all go to hell. That Reciter who insults and disregards others has to go to hell. That man who betakes himself to silent recitation under the influence of stupefaction and from desire of fruit, obtains all those things upon which his heart becomes set.[629] That Reciter whose heart becomes set upon the attributes that go by the name of divinity, has to incur hell and never becomes freed from it.[630] That Reciter who betakes himself to recitation under the influence of attachments (to earthly objects such as wealth, wives etc.) obtain those objects upon which their hearts are set. That Reciter of wicked understanding and uncleansed soul who sets himself to his work with an unstable mind, obtains an unstable end or goes into hell. That Reciter who is not endued with wisdom and who is foolish, becomes stupefied or deluded; and in consequence of such delusion has to go to hell where he is obliged to indulge in regrets.[631] If a person of even firm heart, resolving to complete the discipline, betakes himself to recitation, but fails to attain to completion in consequence of his having freed himself from attachments by a violent stretch without genuine conviction of their inutility or harmful character, he also has to go to hell."[632] "'Yudhishthira said, "When the Reciter attains to the essence of that which exists in its own nature (without being anything like created or born objects), which is Supreme, which is indescribable and inconceivable, and which dwells in the syllable om forming the subject of both recitation and meditation (indeed, when Reciters to a state of Brahma), why is it that they have again to take birth in embodied forms?" "'Bhishma said, "In consequence of the absence of true knowledge and wisdom, Reciters obtain diverse descriptions of hell. The discipline followed by Reciters is certainly very superior. These, however, that I have spoken of, are the faults that appertain to it."'" SECTION CXCVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me what description of hell is obtained by a Reciter? I feel, O king, a curiosity to know this. It behoveth thee to discourse on the subject." "'Bhishma said, "Thou hast sprung from a portion of the god of righteousness. Thou art by nature observant of righteousness. Listen, O sinless one, with undivided attention, to these words resting on righteousness as their basis. Those regions that are owned by the high-souled gods, that are of diverse aspects and colours, of diverse descriptions and productive of diverse fruits, and that are of great excellence, those cars again that move at the will of the riders, those beautiful mansions and halls, those various pleasure-gardens embellished with golden lotuses, those regions that belong to the four Regents and Sukra and Vrihaspati and the Maruts and Viswedevas and Sadhyas and the Aswins, and the Rudras and the Adityas and the Vasus, and other denizens of heaven, are, O sire, spoken of as hells, when compared with the region of the Supreme Soul. The region last spoken of is without any fear (of change for the worse), uncreate (and therefore, in its true nature), without pain of any kind (such as ignorance and delusion), without any agreeable or disagreeable element, beyond the reach of the three attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas), freed from the eight incidents, (viz., the five primal elements, the senses, the mind, and the intellect), without the three (distinctions between the knower, the known, and act of knowing); freed also from the four attributes (seeing, hearing, thinking, and knowing),[633] without the fourfold causes (of knowledge), without joy and delight and sorrow and disease. Time (in his forms of past, present, and future) arises there for use. Time is not the ruler there. That supreme region is the ruler of Time as also of Heaven. That Reciter who becomes identified with his Soul (by withdrawing everything into it) goes thither. He has, after this, never to feel any sorrow. This region is called Supreme. The other regions (of which I have first spoken) are hell. I have not told thee of all those regions that are called hell. Indeed, in comparison with that foremost of regions all the others are called hell."'" SECTION CXCIX "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hadst referred to the dispute between Time, Mrityu, Yama, Ikshvaku, and a Brahmana. It behoveth thee to narrate the story in full." "'Bhishma said, "In connection with this subject that I am discoursing upon, is cited the old history of what transpired between Surya's son Ikshvaku and a certain Brahmana, and Time and Mrityu. Listen to me as to what occurred, and what was the conversation that took place between them, and the place where it happened. There was a certain Brahmana of great fame and pious behaviour. He was a Reciter. Possessed of great wisdom, he was conversant with the six Angas (of the Vedas). He was of the Kusika race and son of Pippalada.[634] He acquired (by his austerities) spiritual insight into the Angas.[635] Residing at the foot of Himavat, he was devoted to the Vedas. Silently reciting the Gayatri composition, he practised severe austerities for attaining to Brahma. A thousand years passed over his head while he was engaged in the observance of vows and fasts. The goddess (of Gayatri or Savitri) showed herself to him and said, 'I am gratified with thee.' Continuing to recite the sacred mantra, the Brahmana remained silent and spoke not a word to the goddess. The goddess felt compassion for him and became highly gratified. Then that progenitrix of the Vedas applauded that recitation in which the Brahmana had been engaged. After finishing his recitation (for that day) the Brahmana stood up and, bending his head, prostrated himself before the goddess's feet. The righteous-souled Reciter, addressing the goddess, said, 'By good luck, O goddess, thou hast been gratified with me and shown thyself to me. If, indeed, thou art gratified with me, the boon I ask is that my heart may take pleasure in act of recitation.' "'"Savitri said, 'What dost thou ask, O regenerate Rishi? What wish of thine shall I accomplish? Tell me, O foremost of Reciters, everything will be as thou wishest.' Thus addressed by the goddess, the Brahmana, conversant with duties, replied, saying, 'Let my wish about continuing my recitations go on increasing every moment. Let also, O auspicious goddess, the absorption of my mind into Samadhi be more complete.' The goddess sweetly said, 'Let it be as thou wishest.' Desiring to do good to the Brahmana, the goddess once again addressed him, saying, 'Thou shalt not have to go to hell, i.e., thither where great Brahmanas go. Thou shalt go into the region of Brahma which is uncreate and free from every fault. I go hence, but that which thou hast asked me shall happen.[636] Go on reciting with restrained soul and rapt attention. The god Dharma will in person come to thee. Time, Mrityu, and Yama also will all approach thy presence. There will be a dispute here between them and thee on a question of morality.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, the goddess went back to her own abode. The Brahmana continued engaged in recitation for a thousand celestial years. Restraining wrath, and always controlling self, he passed his time, firmly devoting himself to truth and freed from malice. Upon the completion of his observance by the intelligent Brahmana, Dharma, gratified with him, showed his person unto that regenerate individual. "'"Dharma said, 'O regenerate one, behold me who am Dharma. I have come here for seeing thee. Thou hast won the reward of this recitation in which thou hadst been engaged. Listen to me as to what that reward is. Thou hast won all the regions of felicity which appertain to either gods or men. O good man, thou shalt ascend above all the abodes of the deities. O ascetic, cast off thy vital breaths then, and go unto whatever regions thou pleasest. By casting off thy body thou wilt win many regions of felicity.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'What business have I with those regions of felicity of which thou speakest? O Dharma, go whithersoever thou pleasest. I will not, O puissant lord, cast off this body which is subject to much happiness and misery.' "'"Dharma said, 'Thy body, O foremost of ascetics, should certainly be cast off. Do thou ascend to heaven, O Brahmana! Or, tell us what else should please thee, O sinless one!' "'"The Brahmana said, 'I do not, O puissant lord, wish to reside in heaven itself without this body of mine. Leave me, O Dharma! I have no desire to go to heaven itself without my own body.' "'"Dharma said, 'Without (thus) setting thy heart on thy body, cast it off and be happy Go into regions that are free from the attribute of Passion. Indeed, going thither, thou shalt never have to feel any misery.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'O highly-blessed one, I take great pleasure in recitation. What need have I for those eternal regions of which thou speakest? Indeed, O puissant lord, I do not desire to go to heaven with even this body of mine.' "'"Dharma said, 'If thou dost not wish to cast off thy body, behold, O regenerate one, there is Time, and there is Mrityu, and there is Yama, who are all approaching thee!'" "'Bhishma continued, "After Dharma had said this, Vivaswat's son (Yama), Time, and Mrityu,--the trio (who snatch away all creatures from the earth), approached that Brahmana, O blessed king, and addressed him thus. "'"Yama said, 'I am Yama. I say unto thee that a high reward awaits thee for these well-performed penances of thine, and for this pious conduct that thou hast observed.' "'"Time said, 'Thou hast won a high reward which is, indeed, commensurate with this course of recitation that thou hast finished. The time is come for thee to ascend to heaven. I am Time and I have come to thee.' "'"Mrityu said, 'O thou that art conversant with righteousness, know me for Mrityu herself in her proper form. I have come to thee in person, urged by Time, for bearing thee hence, O Brahmana.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Welcome to Surya's son, to Time possessed of high soul, to Mrityu, and to Dharma! What shall I accomplish for you all?'" "'Bhishma continued, "In that meeting, the Brahmana gave them water to wash their feet, and the usual articles of the Arghya. Highly gratified, he then addressed them, saying, 'What shall I do for you all by exerting my own might?' Just at that time, O monarch, (king) Ikshvaku, who had set out on a sojourn to holy waters and shrines, came to that spot where those deities had been assembled together. The royal sage Ikshvaku bowed his head and worshipped them all. That best of kings then enquired after the welfare of all of them. The Brahmana gave the king a seat, as also water to wash his feet, and the usual Arghya. Having next made the usual enquiries of courtesy, he said, 'Thou art welcome, O great monarch! Tell me all this thy wishes! Let thy noble self tell me what I shall have to accomplish for thee by putting forth my might.' "'"The king said, 'I am a king. Thou art a Brahmana in the observance of the six well-known duties. (I cannot ask), I will give thee some wealth. That is well-known. Tell me how much I shall give thee.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'There are two kinds of Brahmanas, O monarch! Morality of righteousness also is of two kinds: addiction to work, and abstention from work. As regards myself, I have abstained from acceptance of gifts. Give presents unto them, O, king, that are addicted to the duty of work and acceptance. I shall not, therefore, accept anything in gift. On the other hand, I ask thee, what is for thy good? What, indeed, shall I give thee? Tell me, O foremost of kings, and I shall accomplish it with the aid of my penances.' "'"The king said, 'I am a Kshatriya. I do not know how to say the word "Give." The only thing, O best of regenerate persons, that we can say (by way of asking) is Give (us) battle.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Thou art content with the observance of the duties of thy order. Similarly, I am content with the duties of mine, O king! There is, therefore, little difference between us. Do as thou pleasest!' "'"The king said, 'Thou saidst these words first, viz., "I shall give thee according to my might." I, therefore, solicit thee, O regenerate one. Give me the fruits of this recitation (which thou hast gone through).' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Thou wert boasting that thy utterances always solicit battle. Why then dost thou not solicit battle with me?' "'"The king said, 'It has been said that Brahmanas are armed with the thunder of speech, and that Kshatriyas have might of arms. Hence, learned Brahmana, this wordy warfare has set in between thee and me.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'As regards myself, even that is my resolution today. What shall I give thee according to my might? Tell me, O king of kings, and I shall give thee, having wealth of my own. Do not tarry.' "'"The king said, 'If, indeed, thou desirest to give me anything, then give me the fruits thou hast earned by practising recitation for these thousand years.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Take the highest fruit of the recitations I have gone through. Indeed, take half, without any scruple, of that fruit. Or, O king, if thou wishest, take without any scruple the entire fruits of my recitations.' "'"The king said, 'Blessed be thou, I have no need for the fruits of thy recitations which I solicited. Blessings on thy head. I am about to leave thee. Tell me, however, what those fruits are (of thy recitations).' "'"The Brahmana said, 'I have no knowledge of the fruits I have won. I have, however, given thee those fruits that I have acquired by recitation. These, viz., Dharma and Time, and Yama, and Mrityu, are witnesses (of the act of gift).' "'"The king said, 'What will the fruits, that are unknown, of these thy observances, do for me? If thou dost not tell me what the fruits are of thy recitations, let those fruits be thine, for without doubt I do not wish for them.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'I will not accept any other utterance (from thee). I have given thee the fruits of my recitations. Let, O royal sage, both thy words and mine become true. As regards my recitations, I never cherished any specific desire to accomplish. How then, O tiger among kings, should I have any knowledge of what the fruits are of those recitations? Thou saidst, "Give!" I said "I give!" I shall not falsify these words. Keep the truth. Be calm! If thou request to keep my word, O king, great will be thy sin due to falsehood. O chastiser of foes, it does not become thee to utter what is untrue. Similarly, I dare not falsify what I have uttered. I have, before this, unhesitatingly said, "I give!" If, therefore, thou art firm in truth, accept my gift. Coming here, O king, thou didst solicit of me the fruits of my recitations. Therefore, take what I have given away, if, indeed, thou art firm in truth. He who is addicted to falsehood has neither this world nor the next. Such a person fails to rescue his (deceased) ancestors. How again shall he succeed in doing good to his (unborn) progeny? The rewards of sacrifices and gifts, as also of fasts and religious observances, are not so efficacious in rescuing (a person from evil and hell) as Truth, O bull among men, in both this and the next world. All the penances that have been undergone by thee and all those that thou wilt undergo in the future for hundreds and thousands of years do not possess efficacy greater than that of Truth. Truth is one undeteriorating Brahma. Truth is the one undeteriorating Penance. Truth is the one undeteriorating sacrifice. Truth is the one undeteriorating Veda. Truth is awake in the Vedas. The fruits attached to Truth have been said to be the highest. From Truth arise Righteousness and Self-restraint. Everything rests on Truth. Truth is the Vedas and their branches. Truth is Knowledge. Truth is the Ordinance. Truth is the observance of vows and fasts. Truth is the Primeval Word Om. Truth is the origin of creatures. Truth is their progeny. It is by Truth that the Wind moves. It is by Truth that the Sun gives heat. It is by Truth that Fire burns. It is on Truth that Heaven rests. Truth is Sacrifice, Penance, Vedas, the utterance of Samans, Mantras, and Saraswati. It hath been heard by us that once on a time Truth and all religious observances were placed on a pair of scales. When both were weighed, that scale on which Truth was seen to be heavier. There is Truth where Righteousness is. Everything increaseth through Truth. Why, O king, dost thou wish to do an act that is stained with falsehood? Be firm in Truth. Do not act falsely, O monarch! Why wouldst thou falsify thy words "Give (me)," which thou hast uttered? If thou refusest, O monarch, to accept the fruits that I have given thee of my recitations, thou shalt then have to wander over the world, fallen away from Righteousness! That person who does not give after having promised, and he also that does not accept after having solicited, are both stained with falsehood. It behoveth thee, therefore, not to falsify thy own words.' "'"The king said, 'To fight and protect (subjects) are the duties of Kshatriyas. It is said that Kshatriyas are givers (of presents). How then shall I take anything from thee (in gift)?' "'"The Brahmana said, 'I never insisted on thee, O king (for accepting anything from me in the first instance). I did not seek thy house. Thyself, coming here, didst solicit me. Why then dost thou not take?' "'"Dharma said, 'Know ye both that I am Dharma himself. Let there be no dispute between you. Let the Brahmana become endued with the reward attaching to gift, and let the monarch also obtain the merit of Truth.' "'"Heaven said, 'Know, O great king, that I am Heaven's self in my embodied form, come hither in person. Let this dispute between you cease. You are both equal in respect of the merit or rewards earned.' "'"The king said, 'I have no use with Heaven. Go, O Heaven, to the place you have come from. If this learned Brahmana desires to repair to thee, let him take the rewards that I have won (by my acts in life).' "'"The Brahmana said, 'In my younger days I had, through ignorance, stretched my hand (for acceptance of gifts). At present, however, I recite the Gayatri, observing the duty of abstention.[637] Why dost thou, O king, tempt me thus, me who have for a long time observed the duty of abstention? I shall myself do what my duty is. I do not wish to have any share of the rewards won by thee, O monarch! I am devoted to penances and to study of the Vedas, and I have abstained from acceptance.' "'"The king said, 'If, O Brahmana, thou art really to give me the excellent reward of thy recitation, then let half that reward be mine, thyself taking at the same time half the reward that I myself have won by my acts. Brahmanas are engaged in the duty of acceptance. Persons born in the royal order are engaged in the duty of giving. If thou art not unaware of the duties (laid down for both the orders), let our fruits be equal (according to the suggestion I have made). Or, if thou dost not wish to be my equal in respect of our rewards, take then the whole of the rewards that I may have won. Do take the merit I have won, if thou wishest to show me grace.'" "'Bhishma continued, "At this time, two individuals of very ungainly aspect came there. Each had his arm upon the other's shoulder; both were ill-dressed. They said these words, 'Thou owest me nothing. I really owe thee. If we dispute in this way, here is the king who ruleth individuals. I say truly, thou owest me nothing! Thou speakest falsely. I do owe thee a debt.' Both of them, waxing very hot in dispute, then addressed the king, saying, 'See, O monarch, that none of us may become stained with sin.' "'"Virupa said, 'I owe my companion, Vikrita, O monarch, the merits of the gift of a cow. I am willing to pay off that debt. This Vikrita, however, refuses to take repayment.'[638] "'"Vikrita said, 'This Virupa, O monarch, oweth me nothing. He speaks a falsehood with the appearance of truth, O king.' "'"The king said, 'Tell me, O Virupa, what is that which thou owest thy friend here. It is my resolution to hear thee and then do what is proper.' "'"Virupa said, 'Hear attentively, O king, all the circumstances in detail, about how I owe my companion, viz., this Vikrita, O ruler of men. This Vikrita had, in bygone days, for the sake of winning merit, O sinless one, given away an auspicious cow, O royal sage, unto a Brahmana devoted to penances as the study of the Vedas. Going unto him, O king, I begged of him the reward of that act. With a pure heart, Vikrita made a gift to me of that reward. I then, for my purification, did some good acts. I also purchased two kapila cows with calves, both of which used to yield large quantities of milk. I then made a present, according to due rites and with proper devotion, of those two cows unto a poor Brahmana living by the Unchha[639] method. Having formerly accepted the gift from my companion, I desire, O lord, even here, to give him return twice the reward![640] The circumstances being such, O tiger among men, who amongst us two shall be innocent and who guilty (according to your judgment)? Disputing with each other about this, we have both come to thee, O monarch! Whether thou judgest rightly or wrongly, establish both of us in peace. If this my companion does not wish to take from me in return a gift equal to what he gave me, thou shalt have to judge patiently and set us both on the right track.' "'"The king said, 'Why do you not accept payment that is sought to be made of the debt that is owing to thee? Do not delay, but accept payment of what thou knowest is thy due.' "'"Vikrita said, 'This one says that he owes me. I say unto him that what I gave I gave away. He doth not, therefore, owe me anything. Let him go whithersoever he wishes.' "'"The king said, 'He is ready to give thee. Thou, however, art unwilling to take. This does not seem proper to me. I think that thou deservest punishment for this. There is little doubt in this.' "'"Vikrita said, 'I made a gift to him, O royal sage! How can I take it back? If I am guilty in this, do thou pronounce the punishment, O puissant one.' "'"Virupa said, 'If thou refusest to take when I am ready to give, this king will certainly punish thee, for he is an upholder of justice.' "'"Vikrita said, 'Solicited by him I gave him what was my own. How shall I now retake that? Thou mayst go away. Thou hast my leave.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Thou hast heard, O king, the words of these two. Do thou take without scruple that which I have pledged myself to give thee.' "'"The king said, 'This matter is, indeed, as deep (in importance) as an unfathomable pit. How will the pertinacity of this Reciter end? If I do not accept what has been given by this Brahmana, how shall I avoid being stained with a great sin?' The royal sage then said unto the two disputants, 'Go ye both, having won your respective objects. I should see that kingly duties, vested in me, may not become futile. It is settled that kings should observe the duties laid down for them. To my misfortune, however, the course of duties prescribed for Brahmanas has possessed my wretched self.'[641] "'"The Brahmana said, 'Accept, O king! I owe thee. Thou didst solicit it, and I also have become pledged (to give thee). If, however, thou refuse to take, O monarch, I shall without doubt curse thee.' "'"The king said, 'Fie on kingly duties, the settled conclusion about the operation of which is even such. I should, however, take what thou givest, for only this reason, viz., rendering the two courses of duty exactly equal.[642] This is my hand, that was never before (stretched forth for acceptance of gifts), is now stretched forth (for acceptance as also) for giving away. Give me what thou owest me.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'If I have won any fruits by reciting the Gayatri, accept them all.' "'"The king said, 'These drops of water, behold, O foremost of Brahmanas, have fallen upon my hand. I also desire to give thee. Accept my gift. Let there be equality between us (through thy accepting my gift as I have accepted thine).' "'"Virupa said, 'Know, O king, that we two are Desire and Wrath. It hath been by us that thou hast been induced to act in this way. Thou hast made a gift in return to the Brahmana. Let there be equality between thee and this regenerate person in respect of regions of felicity in the next world. This Vikrita really does not owe me anything. We appealed to thee for thy own sake. Time, Dharma, Mrityu, and we two, have examined everything about thee, here in thy very presence, by producing this friction between thee and that Brahmana. Go now, as thou choosest, to those regions of felicity which thou hast won by means of thy deeds.'" "'Bhishma continued, "I have now told thee how Reciters obtain the fruits (of their recitation) and what, indeed, is their end, what the spot, and what the regions, that a Reciter may win. A Reciter of Gayatri goes to the supreme god Brahman, or repairs to Agni or enters the region of Surya. If he sports there in his (new) energetic form, then stupefied by such attachment, he catches the attributes of those particular regions.[643] The same becomes the case with him if he goes to Soma, or Vayu, or Earth, or Space. The fact is, he dwells in all these, with attachment, and displays the attributes peculiar to those regions. If, however, he goes to those regions after having freed himself from attachments, and feels a mistrust (respecting the felicity he enjoys) and wishes for That Which is Supreme and Immutable, he then enters even That. In that case he attains to the ambrosia of ambrosia, to a state free from desire and destitute of separate consciousness. He becomes Brahma's self freed from the influence of opposites, happy, tranquil, and without pain.[644] Indeed, he attains to, that condition which is free from pain, which is tranquillity's self, which is called Brahma, whence there is no return, and which is styled the One and Immutable. He becomes freed from the four means of apprehension,[645] the six conditions, and also the other six and ten attributes.[646] Transcending the Creator (Brahman), he attains to absorption into the One Supreme Soul. Or, if under the influence of attachments, he wishes not for such absorption, but desires to have a separate existence as dependent on that Supreme Cause of everything, then obtains the fruition of everything for which he cherishes a wish. Or, if he looks (with aversion) upon all regions of felicity, which have been (as previously stated) called hells, he then, driving off desire and freed from everything, enjoys supreme felicity even in those very regions.[647] Thus, O monarch, I have discoursed to thee about the end attained by Reciters. I have told thee everything. What else thou wishest to hear?"'" SECTION CC "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what reply was given by either the Brahmana or the monarch to Virupa after the conclusion of the latter's speech. What kind of end was it, amongst those described by thee, that they obtained? What, indeed, was the discourse that happened between them, and what did they do there?" "'Bhishma said, "The Brahmana, saying, 'Let it be as thou hast said,' worshipped Dharma and Yama and Time and Mrityu and Heaven, all of whom were worthy of worship. He also worshipped all those foremost of Brahmanas that had come there by bending his head unto them. Addressing the monarch then, he said, 'Endued with the reward of my recitations, O royal sage, attain thou to a position of eminence. With thy leave I shall set myself to my recitations again. O thou of great might, the goddess Savitri gave me a boon, saying, "Let thy devotion to recitations be continuous."' "'"The king said, 'If thy success (in recitation) has become fruitless (in consequence of thy having given away those fruits unto me), and if thy heart be set upon practising again, go, O learned Brahmana, half and half with me, and let the reward of thy recitations themselves be thine.'[648] "'"The Brahmana said, 'Thou hast made strenuous efforts before all these persons (for making me a sharer of the rewards in store for thee as the consequences of thy own acts). Let us then become equal in respect of our rewards (in next life), and let us go to receive that end which is ours.' Knowing the resolve to which they came there, the chief of the gods came to that spot, accompanied by the deities and the Regents of the world. The Sadhyas, the Viswas, the Mantras, diverse kinds of loud and sweet music, the Rivers, the Mountains, the Seas, the Sacred Waters, the Penances, the Ordinances about yoga, the Vedas, the Sounds that accompany the singing of the Samans, Saraswati, Narada, Parvata, Viswavasu, the Hahas, the Huhus, the Gandharva Chitrasena with all the members of his family, the Nagas, the Sadhyas, the Munis, the god of gods, viz., Prajapati, and the inconceivable and thousand-headed Vishnu himself, came there. Drums and trumpets were beat and blown in the firmament. Celestial flowers were rained down upon those high-souled beings. Bands of Apsaras danced all around. Heaven, in his embodied form, came there. Addressing the Brahmana, he said, 'Thou hast attained to success. Thou art highly blessed.' Next addressing the monarch, he said, 'Thou also, O king, hast attained to success.' Those two persons then, O monarch (viz., the Brahmana and the king), having done good to each other, withdrew their senses from the objects of the world. Fixing the vital breaths Prana, Apana, Samana, Udana and Vyana in the heart, they concentrated the mind in Prana and Apana united together. They then placed the two united breaths in the abdomen, and directed their gaze to the tip of the nose and then immediately below the two eye-brows. They next held the two breaths, with the aid of the mind, in the spot that intervenes between the two eye-brows, bringing them there very gradually. With bodies perfectly inactive, they were absorbed with fixed gaze. Having control over their souls, they then placed the soul within the brain. Then piercing the crown of the high-souled Brahmana a fiery flame of great splendour ascended to heaven. Loud exclamations of woe, uttered by all creatures, were then heard on all sides. Its praises hymned by all, that splendour then entered Brahman's self. The Great grandsire, advancing forward, addressed that splendour which had assumed a form of the tallness of a span, saying, 'Welcome!' And once more he uttered these words, 'Verily, Reciters attain to the same end with the yogins. The attainment by the yogin of his end is an object of direct vision unto all these (here assembled). As regards Reciters, there is this distinction, that the honour is ordained for them of Brahman's advancing forward to receive them (after their departure from earth).[649] Dwell thou in me.' Thus spoke Brahman and once more imparted consciousness into that splendour. Indeed, the Brahmana then, freed from all anxieties, entered the mouth of the Creator. The monarch (Ikshvaku) also, after the same manner, entered the divine Grandsire like that foremost of Brahmanas. The (assembled) deities saluted the self-born and said, 'A very superior end is, indeed, ordained for Reciters. This exertion (that we have seen thee put forth) is for Reciters. As regards ourselves, we came hither for beholding it. Thou hast made these two equal, rendered them equal honour, and bestowed upon them an equal end. The high end that is reserved for both yogins and Reciters has been seen by us today. Transcending all regions (of felicity), these two are capable of going whithersoever they wish.' "'"Brahman said, 'He also that would read the great Smriti (viz., the Veda), and he too, who would read the other auspicious Smritis that follow the former (viz., Manu's and the rest), would, in this way, attain to the same region with me. He also who is devoted to yoga, will, without doubt, acquire in this manner, after death, the regions that are mine. I go hence. Go ye all to your respective places for the accomplishment of your ends.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, that foremost of gods disappeared there and then. The assembled deities, having previously taken his leave, returned to their respective abodes. All those high-souled beings, having honoured Dharma, proceeded with well-pleased hearts, O monarch, walking behind that great deity. These are the rewards of reciters and this their end. I have described them to thee as I myself had heard of them. What else, O monarch, dost thou wish to hear of?"'" SECTION CCI "'Yudhishthira said, "What are the fruits of the yoga represented by Knowledge of all the Vedas, and of the (various) observances and vows? How also may the creature-soul be known? Tell us, this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between that lord of creatures, viz., Manu, and the great Rishi, Vrihaspati. In days of old, the foremost of celestial Rishis, viz., Vrihaspati, who was a disciple of Manu, bowed to his preceptor and addressing that lord and first of all creatures, said, 'What is the cause (of the universe)? Whence have the ordinances (about sacrifices and other pious observances) flowed? What are those fruits which the learned say are attached to Knowledge? Tell me also truly, O illustrious one, what is that which the very Vedas have not been able to reveal? What are those fruits which are adored by eminent personages conversant with the science of Artha, with the Vedas, and with the Mantras, through sacrifices and plentiful gifts of kine? Whence do those fruits arise? Where are they to be found? Tell me also this old history, viz., whence have the earth, all earthly objects, wind, sky, aquatic creatures, water, heaven, and the denizens of heaven, all sprung? Man's inclinations tend towards that object about which he seeks knowledge. I have no knowledge of that Ancient and Supreme one. How shall I rescue myself from a false display of inclinations towards Him?[650] The Riks, all the Samanas, all the Yajuses, the Chhandas, Astronomy, Nirukta, Grammar, Sankalpa, and Siksha, I have studied. But I have no knowledge of the nature of the great creatures (the five primal elements) that enter into the composition of everything.[651] Tell me all I have asked thee, by using only simple assertions and distinguishing adjectives or attributes. Tell me what the fruits are of Knowledge and what those fruits that are attached to sacrifices and other religious rites. Explain to me how also an embodied being departs from his body and how he attains to another body.' "'"Manu said, 'That which is agreeable to one is said to constitute one's happiness. Similarly, that which is disagreeable to one is said to constitute one's misery.--By this I shall obtain happiness and keep off misery--from a sentiment like this flow all religious acts. The efforts for the acquisition of Knowledge, however, arise from a sentiment for avoiding both happiness and misery.[652] The ordinances about sacrifices and other observances, that occur in the Vedas, are all connected with desire. He, however, who liberates himself from desire, succeeds in attaining to Brahma. That man who, from desire of winning happiness, walks in the path of acts which are of diverse kinds, has to go to hell.'[653] "'"Vrihaspati said, 'Men's aspirations are concerned with the acquisition of the agreeable which ends in happiness, and the avoidance of the disagreeable which brings misery. Such acquisition and such avoidance again are accomplished by acts.'[654] "'"Manu said, 'It is by liberating oneself from acts that one succeeds in entering into Brahma. The ordinances about acts have flowed for that very end.[655] The ordinances about acts tempts only those whose hearts are not free from desire. By liberating oneself from acts (as already said) one acquires the highest state. One desirous of felicity (Emancipation), betaking oneself to religious rites, becomes purified (from attachments) by acts having for their object the purification of the soul, and at last wins great splendour. By liberating oneself from acts, one acquires the highest end, viz., Brahma, which is very much above the reward that acts give. Creatures have all been created by Mind and Act. These again are the two best paths adored by all. Outward acts produce fruits that are transitory as also eternal. For acquiring the latter there is no other means than abandonment of fruits by the mind.[656] As the eye, when night passes away and the veil of darkness is removed from it, leads its possessor by its own power, so the Understanding, when it becomes endued with Knowledge, succeeds in beholding all evils that are worthy of avoidance.[657] Snakes, sharp-pointed kusa blades, and pits, men avoid when they perceive them lie on their way. If some tread upon or fall into them, they do so through ignorance. Behold the superiority of the fruits of knowledge (over those of ignorance). Mantras applied duly, sacrifices, the presents called Dakshina, gift of food, and concentration of the mind (for divine contemplation),--these are the five acts that are said to be productive of fruits, there being none else. Acts have (the three) attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas) for their soul. The Vedas say this. (The Vedas consist of Mantras). The Mantras, therefore, have the same three attributes, since it is with Mantras that acts are to be accomplished. The ritual also must be liable to the same three attributes. The fruits of action depend upon the mind. It is the embodied creature that enjoys those fruits.[658] All excellent kinds of sound, form, taste, touch, and scent, are the fruits of acts, being attainable in the region of acts (i.e., heaven). As regards, however, the fruits of knowledge, man acquires them even here before death.[659] Whatever acts are accomplished by means of the body, one enjoys the fruits thereof in a state of physical existence. The body is, indeed, the framework to which happiness inheres, as also the framework to which misery inheres.[660] Whatever acts are accomplished by means of words, their fruits are to be enjoyed in a state in which words can be spoken. Similarly, whatever acts are accomplished by the mind, their fruits are enjoyed in a state in which one is not freed from the mind.[661] Devoted to the fruits of acts, whatever kind of acts (Sattwika or Rajasika or Tamasika) a person covetous of fruits accomplishes, the fruits, good or bad, that he actually enjoys partake of their character. Like fishes going against a current of water, the acts of a past life come to the actor. The embodied creature experiences happiness for his good acts, and misery for his evil ones. Him from whom this universe hath sprung, Him by knowing whom persons of cleansed souls transgress this world, Him who has not been expressed by Vedic mantras and words, I will now indicate. Listen to me as I speak of that highest of the high. Himself liberated from the several kinds of taste and scent, and sound and touch and form, He is incapable of being grasped by the senses, unmanifest, without colour, the One, and He has created the five kinds of objects[662] for His creatures. He is neither female, nor male, nor of the neuter sex. He is neither existent, nor non-existent, nor existent-nonexistent.[663] Only those that are acquainted with Brahma behold Him. He knoweth no direction.'"'" SECTION CCII "'"Manu said, 'From that eternal and undeteriorating One first sprang Space; from space came Wind; from wind came Light; from light came Water; from water sprang the Universe; and from the universe, all things that occur in it. The bodies of all (earthly) things, (after dissolution), first enter into water, thence to light or heat, thence to the wind, and thence to space. They that seek Emancipation have not to return from space. On the other hand, they attain to Brahma. The refuge of Emancipation, viz., Brahma, is neither hot, nor cold, neither mild nor fierce, neither sour nor astringent, neither sweet nor bitter. He is not endued with sound, or scent, or form. He transcends all these and everything, and is without dimensions.[664] The skin perceives touch; the tongue, taste; the nose, scent; the ears, sounds; and the eyes, forms. Men not conversant with Adhyatma succeed not in beholding what is above these. Having withdrawn the tongue from tastes, the nose from scents, the ears from touch, and the eyes from forms, one succeeds in beholding one's own self (as independent of the senses and the mind and, therefore, of attributes).[665] It hath been said that that which is the Cause of the actor, the act, the material with which the act is done, the place and the time of the act, and the inclinations and propensities in respect of happiness and misery, is called the Self (or Soul). That which pervades everything, which does everything (assuming the forms of living creatures), that which exists in the universe even as the mantras declare,[666] that which is the cause of all, that which is the highest of the high, and that which is One without a second and does all things, is the Cause. Everything else is effect. It is seen that a person, in consequence of the acts performed by him, obtains results both good and evil, which (though apparently incompatible with each other, still) dwell together in harmony. Indeed, as the good and evil fruits born of their own acts dwell together in the bodies of creatures which are their refuge, even so Knowledge dwells in the body.[667] As a lighted lamp, while burning, discovers other objects before it, even so the five senses which are like lamps set on high trees, find out their respective objects when lighted by Knowledge.[668] As the various ministers of a king, uniting together, give him counsel, even so the five senses that are in the body are all subservient to Knowledge. The latter is superior to all of them. As the flames of fire, the current of the wind, the rays of the sun, and the waters of rivers, go and come repeatedly, even so the bodies of embodied creatures are going and coming repeatedly.[669] As a person by taking up an axe cannot, by cutting open a piece of wood, find either smoke or fire in it, even so one cannot, by cutting open the arms and feet and stomach of a person, see the principle of knowledge, which, of course, has nothing in common with the stomach, the arms and the feet. As again, one beholds both smoke and fire in wood by rubbing it against another piece, so a person of well-directed intelligence and wisdom, by uniting (by means of yoga) the senses and the soul, may view the Supreme Soul which, of course, exists in its own nature.[670] As in the midst of a dream one beholds one's own body lying on the ground as something distinct from one's own self, even so a person, endued with the five senses, the mind, and the understanding, beholds (after death) his own body and then goes from one into another form[671]. The Soul is not subject to birth, growth, decay, and destruction. In consequence of the acts of life being endued with effects, the Soul, clothed in body, passes from this body (when deprived of animation) into another, unseen by others.[672] No one can behold with the eye the form of the Soul. The Soul cannot, again, form the subject of any one's touch. With those (i.e., the senses), the Soul accomplishes no act. The senses do not approach the Soul. The Soul, however, apprehends them all. As anything, placed in a blazing fire before a spectator, assumes a certain colour in consequence of the light and heat that operates upon it, without taking any other hue or attribute, even so the Soul's form is seen to take its colour from the body. After the same manner, man, casting off one body, enters another, unseen by all. Indeed, casting off his body to the (five) great primal elements, he assumes a form that is similarly made of the same (five) elements. The embodied creature (upon the destruction of his body) enters space, wind, fire, water, and earth in such a way that each particular element in his body mingles with the particular element (out of his body) with whose nature it is consonant. The senses also, which are engaged in diverse occupations and dependent on the five elements (for the exercise of their functions), enter these five elements that call forth their functions. The ear derives its capacity from space; and the sense of scent from the earth. Form, which is the property of the eye, is the consequence of light or fire. Fire or heat has been said to be the dependent cause of water. The tongue which has for its property taste becomes merged into water. The skin which has touch for its property becomes lost in the wind whose nature it partakes. The fivefold attributes, (viz., sound, etc.) dwell in the (five) great creatures (viz., the five primal elements). Those fivefold objects of the senses (viz., space, etc.) dwell in the (five) senses. All these again (viz., the fivefold attributes, the fivefold elements, and the five senses) follow the lead of the mind. The mind follows the lead of the Understanding, and the Understanding follows the lead of That which exists in its true and undefiled nature (viz., the Supreme Soul).[673] The doer in his new body receives all the good and bad acts done by him as also all acts done by him in his past existence. All these acts done in this life and the next ones to come follow the mind even as aquatic animals pass along a genial current. As a quickly-moving and restless thing becomes an object of sight, as a minute object appears to be possessed of large dimensions (when seen through spectacles), as a mirror shows a person his own face (which cannot otherwise be seen), even so the Soul (though subtile and invisible) become an object of the Understanding's apprehension.'"'"[674] SECTION CCIII "'"Manu said, 'The mind united with the senses, recollects after a long time the impressions of the objects received in the past. When the senses are all suspended (in respect of their functions),[675] the Supreme (the Soul), in the form of the Understanding, exists in its own true nature. When the Soul (at such a time) does not in the least regard all those objects of the senses in respect of their simultaneity or the reverse in point of time but mustering them from all directions holds them before it together, it necessarily happens that he wanders among all things that are incongruous. He is, therefore, the (silent) Witness. Hence the Soul encased in body is something having a distinct and independent existence.[676] There is Rajas, there is Tamas, and there is Sattwa, the third. There are again three states of the understanding, viz., waking, dreaming, and sound sleep. The Soul has knowledge of the pleasures and pains, which are all contradictory, of those states, and which partake of the nature of the threefold attributes first mentioned.[677] The Soul enters the senses like the wind entering the fire in a piece of wood.[678] One cannot behold the form of the Soul by one's eye, nor can the sense of touch, amongst the senses, apprehend it. The Soul is not, again, an object of apprehension by the ear. It may, however, be seen by the aid of the Srutis and the instructions of the wise. As regards the senses, that particular sense which apprehends it loses upon such apprehension its existence as a sense.[679] The senses cannot themselves apprehend their respective forms by themselves. The Soul is omniscient (inasmuch as it apprehends both the knower and the known). It beholds all things. Being omniscient, it is the Soul that beholds the senses (without, as already said, the senses being able to apprehend it). Nobody has seen the other side of the Himavat mountains, nor the reverse of the moon's disc. Yet it cannot be said that these do not exist. Similarly, though never apprehended by the senses, yet nobody can say that the Soul, which dwells in all creatures, which is subtile, and which has knowledge for its essence, does not exist. People see the world reflected on the moon's disc in the form of spots. Though seeing, they do not know that it is the world that is so reflected there. Even such is the knowledge of the Soul. That knowledge must come of itself. The Soul depends upon the Soul itself. Men of wisdom, reflecting on the formlessness of visible objects before birth and after destruction, behold by the aid of intelligence, the formlessness of objects that have apparent forms. So also although the Sun's motion cannot be seen, yet persons, by watching its rising and setting, conclude that the sun has motion.[680] Similarly, those who are endued with wisdom and learning behold the Soul by the aid of the lamp of intelligence, though it is at a great distance from them, and seek to merge the fivefold elements, which are near, into Brahma.[681] Verily, an object cannot be accomplished without the application of means. Fishermen catch fish by means of nets made of strings. Animals are captured by employing animals as are the means. Birds are caught by employing birds as the means. Elephants are taken by employing elephants. In this way, the Soul may be apprehended by the principle of knowledge. We have heard that only a snake can see a snake's legs. After the same manner one beholds, through Knowledge, the Soul encased in subtile form and dwelling within the gross body. People cannot, through their senses, know the senses. Similarly, mere Intelligence at its highest cannot behold the Soul which is supreme. The moon, on the fifteenth day of the dark fortnight, cannot be seen in consequence of its form being hid. It cannot be said, however, that destruction overtakes it. Even such is the case with the Soul dwelling in the body. On the fifteenth day of the dark fortnight, the gross body of the moon becomes invisible. After the same manner, the Soul, when liberated from the body, cannot be apprehended. As the moon, gaining another point in the firmament begins to shine once more, similarly, the Soul obtaining a new body, begins to manifest itself once more. The birth, growth and disappearance of the moon can all be directly apprehended by the eye. These phenomena, however, appertain to the gross form of that luminary. The like are not the attributes of the Soul. The moon, when it shows itself after its disappearance on the fifteenth day of the dark fortnight, is regarded as the same luminary that had become invisible. After the same manner, notwithstanding the changes represented by birth, growth and age, a person is regarded as the same individual without any doubt of his identity. It cannot be distinctly seen how Rahu approaches and leaves the moon. After the same manner, the Soul cannot be seen how it leaves one body and enters another.[682] Rahu becomes visible only when it exists with the sun or the moon. Similarly, the Soul becomes an object of apprehension only when it exists with the body. When liberated from the sun or the moon, Rahu can no longer be seen. Similarly, the Soul, liberated from the body, can no longer be seen. Then again, as the moon, even when it disappears on the fifteenth day of the dark fortnight, is not deserted by the constellations and the stars, the Soul also, even though separated from the body, is not deserted by the fruits of the acts it has achieved in that body.'"'" SECTION CCIV "'"Manu said, 'As in a dream this manifest (body) lies (inactive) and the enlivening spirit in its subtile form, detaching itself from the former, walks forth after the same manner, in the state called deep slumber (or death), the subtile form with all the senses becomes inactive and the Understanding, detached from it remains awake. The same is the case with Existence and Non-Existence.[683] As when quantity of water is clear, images reflected in it can be seen by the eye, after the same manner, if the senses be unperturbed, the Soul is capable of being viewed by the understanding. If, however, the quantity of water gets stirred, the person standing by it can no longer see those images. Similarly, if the senses become perturbed, the Soul can no longer be seen by the understanding. Ignorance begets Delusion. Delusion affects the mind. When the mind becomes vitiated, the five senses which have the mind for their refuge become vitiated also. Surcharged with Ignorance, and sunk in the mire of worldly objects, one cannot enjoy the sweets of contentment or tranquillity. The Soul (thus circumstanced), undetached from its good and evil acts, returns repeatedly unto the objects of the world, in consequence of sin one's thirst is never slaked. One's thirst is slaked only when one's sin is destroyed. In consequence of attachment to worldly objects, which has a tendency to perpetuate itself, one wishes for things other than those for which one should wish, and accordingly fails to attain to the Supreme.[684] From the destruction of all sinful deeds, knowledge arises in men. Upon the appearance of Knowledge, one beholds one's Soul in one's understanding even as one sees one's own reflection in a polished mirror. One obtains misery in consequence of one's senses being unrestrained. One obtains happiness in consequence of one's senses being restrained. Therefore, one should restrain one's mind by self-effort from objects apprehended by the senses.[685] Above the senses is the mind; above the mind is the understanding; above the understanding is the Soul; above the Soul is the Supreme or Great. From the Unmanifest hath sprung the Soul; from the Soul hath sprung the Understanding; from the Understanding hath sprung the Mind. When the Mind becomes associated with the senses, then it apprehends sound and the other objects of the senses. He who casts off those objects, as also all that are manifest, he who liberates himself from all things that arise from primordial matter, being so freed, enjoys immortality.[686] The Sun rising diffuses his rays. When he sets, he withdraws unto himself those very rays that were diffused by him. After the same manner, the Soul, entering the body, obtains the fivefold objects of the senses by diffusing over them his rays represented by the senses. When, however, he turns back, he is said to set by withdrawing those rays unto himself.[687] Repeatedly led along the path that is created by acts, he obtains the fruits of his acts in consequence of his having followed the practice of acts.[688] Desire for the objects of the senses keeps away from a person who does not indulge in such desire. The very principle of desire, however, leaves him who has beheld his soul, which, of course, is entirely free from desire.[689] When the Understanding, freed from attachment to the objects of the senses, becomes fixed in the mind, then does one succeed in attaining to Brahma, for it is there that the mind with the understanding withdrawn into it can possibly be extinguished. Brahma is not an object of touch, or of hearing, or of taste, or of sight, or of smell, or of any deductive inference from the Known. Only the Understanding (when withdrawn from everything else) can attain to it. All objects that the mind apprehends through the senses are capable of being withdrawn into the mind; the mind can be withdrawn into the understanding; the Understanding can be withdrawn into the Soul, and the Soul into the Supreme.[690] The senses cannot contribute to the success of the mind. The mind cannot apprehend the Understanding. The Understanding cannot apprehend the manifested Soul. The Soul, however, which is subtile, beholds those all.'"'" SECTION CCV "'"Manu said, 'Upon the appearance of the physical and mental sorrow, one does not become able to practise yoga. It is advisable, therefore, for one not to brood over such sorrow. The remedy for sorrow is abstention from brooding over it. When sorrow is brooded over, it comes aggressively and increases in violence. One should relieve mental sorrow by wisdom, while physical sorrow should be cured by medicaments. Wisdom teaches this. One should not, while under sorrow, behave like a child. The man of wisdom should never cherish a desire for youth, beauty, length of life, accumulation of wealth, health, and the companionship of those that are dear, all of which are transitory. One should not grieve singly for a sorrow that affects a whole community. Without grieving, one should, if one sees an opportunity, seek to apply a remedy. Without doubt, the measure of sorrow is much greater than that of happiness in life. To one who is content with the objects of the senses, death that is disagreeable comes in consequence of his stupefaction. That man who avoids both sorrow and happiness succeeds verily in attaining to Brahma. Such persons, who are possessed of wisdom, have never to grieve.[691] Worldly possessions bring about sorrow. In protecting them thou canst not have any happiness. They are again earned with misery. One should not therefore, regard their loss.[692] Pure Knowledge (or Brahma) is regarded (by ignorance) as existing in the diverse forms that are objects of Knowledge. Know that mind is only an attribute of Knowledge. When the mind becomes united with the faculties of knowledge, then the Understanding (which bodies forth the forms of things) sets in.[693] When the Understanding, freed from the attributes of action, becomes directed towards the mind (after being withdrawn from outward objects), then does it succeed in knowing Brahma by meditation or Yoga ending in complete absorption (samadhi). The Understanding flowing from Ignorance, and possessed of the senses and attributes, runs towards external objects, like a river issuing from a mountain summit and flowing towards other regions. When the Understanding, withdrawn into the mind, succeeds in absorbing itself into contemplation that is free from attributes, it attains to a knowledge of Brahma like the touch of gold on a touchstone. The mind is the apprehender of the objects of the senses. It must first be extinguished (before Brahma can be attained). Dependent upon the attributes of objects that are before it, the mind can never show that which is without attributes. Shutting up all the doors constituted by the senses, the Understanding should be withdrawn into the mind. In this state, when absorbed in contemplation, it attains to the knowledge of Brahma. As the fivefold great creatures (in their gross form) upon the destruction of the attributes by which they are known, become withdrawn (into their subtile form called Tanmatra), after the same manner the Understanding may dwell in the mind alone, with the senses all withdrawn from their objects. When the Understanding, though possessed of the attribute of certainty, dwells in the mind, busied with the internal, even then it is nothing but the mind (without being anything superior to it). When the mind or consciousness, which attains to excellence through contemplation, succeeds in identifying attributes with what are considered as their possessors, then can it cast off all attributes and attain to Brahma which is without attributes.[694] There is no indication that is fit enough for yielding a knowledge of what is Unmanifest (Brahma). That which cannot form the subject of language, cannot be acquired by any one. With cleansed soul, one should seek to approach the Supreme Brahma, through the aid afforded by penances, by inferences, by self-restraint, by the practices and observances as laid down for one's own order, and by the Vedas. Persons of clear vision (besides seeing the Supreme within themselves), seek him in even external forms by freeing themselves from attributes. The Supreme, which is called by the name of Jneya (i.e., that which should be known), in consequence of the absence of all attributes or of its own nature, can never be apprehended by argument. When the Understanding becomes freed from attributes, then only it can attain to Brahma. When unemancipated from attributes, it falls back from the Supreme. Indeed, such is the nature of the understanding that it rushes towards attributes and moves among them like fire among fuel. As in the state called Sushupti (deep and dreamless slumber) the five senses exist freed from their respective functions, after the same manner the Supreme Brahma exists high above Prakriti, freed from all its attributes. Embodied creatures thus betake themselves to action in consequence of attributes. When they abstain therefrom, they attain to Emancipation. Some again (by action) go to heaven. The living creature, primordial nature, the understanding, the objects of the senses, the senses, consciousness, conviction of personal identity, are called creatures (for they are subjected to destruction). The original creation of all these flowed from the Supreme. Their second or succeeding creation is due to the action of couples or pairs (of opposite sexes) and is confined to all things save the primal five, and is restrained by laws in consequence of which the same species produce the same species. From righteousness (living) creatures obtain a high end, and from sinfulness they earn an end that is low. He who is unemancipated from attachments, encounters rebirth; while he who is emancipated therefrom, attains to Knowledge (or Brahma).'"'" SECTION CCVI "'"Manu said, 'When the fivefold attributes are united with the five senses and the mind, then is Brahma seen by the individual like a thread passing through a gem. As a thread, again, may lie within gold or pearl or a coral or any object made of earth, even so one's soul, in consequence of one's own acts, may live within a cow, a horse, a man, an elephant, or any other animal, or within a worm or an insect. The good deeds an individual performs in a particular body produce rewards that the individual enjoys in that particular body. A soil, apparently drenched with one particular kind of liquid, supplies to each different kind of herb or plant that grows on it the sort of juice it requires for itself. After the same manner, the Understanding, whose course is witnessed by the soul, is obliged to follow the path marked out by the acts of previous lives.[695] From knowledge springs desire. From desire springs resolution. From resolution flows action. From action proceed fruits (i.e., consequences, good and bad). Fruits, therefore, are dependent on actions as their cause. Actions have the understanding for their cause. The understanding has knowledge for its cause; and knowledge has the Soul for its cause. That excellent result which is achieved in consequence of the destruction of knowledge, of fruits, of the understanding, and of acts, is called Knowledge of Brahma.[696] Great and high is that self-existent Essence, which yogins behold. They that are devoid of wisdom, and whose understandings are devoted to worldly possessions never behold that which exists in the Soul itself. Water is superior to the Earth in extension; Light is superior to Water; Wind is superior to Light; Space is superior to Wind; Mind is superior to Space; Understanding is superior to Mind; Time is superior to Understanding. The divine Vishnu, whose is this universe, is superior to Time. That god is without beginning, middle, and end. In consequence of his being without beginning, middle, and end, he is Unchangeable. He transcends all sorrow, for sorrow has limits.[697] That Vishnu hath been called the Supreme Brahma. He is the refuge or object of what is called the Highest. Knowing Him, they that are wise, freed from everything that owns the power of Time, attain to what is called Emancipation. All these (that we perceive) are displayed in attributes. That which is called Brahma, being without attributes, is superior to these.[698] Abstention from acts is the highest religion. That religion is sure to lead to deathlessness (Emancipation). The Richs, the Yajuses, and the Samans, have for their refuge the body. They flow from the end of the tongue. They cannot be acquired without effort and are subject to destruction. Brahma, however, cannot be acquired in this way, for (without depending upon the body) it depends upon that (i.e., the knower or Soul) which has the body for its refuge. Without beginning, middle, or end, Brahma cannot be acquired by exertion (like to what is necessary for the acquirement of the Vedas). The Richs, the Samans, the Yajuses have each a beginning. Those that have a beginning have also an end. But Brahma is said to be without beginning. And because Brahma hath neither beginning nor end, it is said to be infinite and unchangeable. In consequence of unchangeableness, Brahma transcends all sorrow as also all pairs of opposites. Through unfavourable destiny, through inability to find out the proper means, and through the impediments offered by acts, mortals succeed not in beholding the path by which Brahma may be reached. In consequence of attachment to worldly possessions, of a vision of the joys of the highest heaven, and of coveting something other than Brahma, men do not attain to the Supreme.[699] Others beholding worldly objects covet their possession. Desirous of such objects, they have no longing for Brahma in consequence of its transcending all attributes.[700] How shall he that is attached to attributes which are inferior, arrive at a knowledge of him that is possessed of attributes that are superior? It is by inference that one can arrive at a knowledge of Him that transcends all this in attributes and form. By subtile intelligence alone can we know Him. We cannot describe Him in words. The mind is seizable by the mind, the eye by eye.[701] By knowledge the understanding can be purified of its dross. The understanding may be employed for purifying the mind. By the mind should the senses be controlled. Achieving all this, one may attain to the Unchangeable. One who has, by contemplation, become freed from attachments, and who has been enriched by the possession of a discerning mind, succeeds in attaining to Brahma which is without desire and above all attributes. As the wind keeps away from the fire that is embedded within a piece of wood, even so persons that are agitated (by desire for worldly possessions) keep away from that which is Supreme. Upon the destruction of all earthly objects, the mind always attains to That which is higher than the Understanding; while upon their separation the mind always acquires that which is below the Understanding. That person, who, in conformity with the method already described, becomes engaged in destroying earthly objects, attains to absorption into the body of Brahma.[702] Though the Soul is unmanifest, yet when clothed with qualities, its acts become unmanifest. When dissolution (of the body) comes, it once more becomes manifest. The Soul is really inactive. It exists, united with the senses that are productive of either happiness or sorrow. United with all the senses and endued with body, it takes refuge in the five primal elements. Through want of power, however, it fails to act when deprived of force by the Supreme and Unchangeable. No man sees the end of the earth but knows this, viz., that the earth's end will surely come.[703] Man, agitated here (by attachments), is surely led to his last refuge like the wind leading a vessel tossed on the sea to a safe harbour at last. The Sun, spreading his rays, becomes the possessor of an attribute, (viz., the lighter of the world): withdrawing his rays (at the hour of setting), he once more becomes an object divested of attributes. After the same manner, a person, abandoning all distinctions (attachments), and betaking himself to penances, at last enters the indestructible Brahma which is divested of all attributes. By discerning Him who is without birth, who is the highest refuge of all righteous persons, who is self-born, from whom everything springs and unto whom all things return, who is unchangeable, who is without beginning, middle, and end, and who is certainty's self and supreme, a person attains to immortality (Emancipation).'"'" SECTION CCVII "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou of great wisdom, I desire to hear in detail, O chief of the Bharatas, of that lotus-eyed and indestructible one, who is the Creator of everything but who has been created by none, who is called Vishnu (in consequence of his pervading everything), who is the origin of all creatures and unto whom all creatures return, who is known by the names of Narayana and Hrishikesa and Govinda and Kesava, and who is incapable of being vanquished by any one." "'Bhishma said, "I have heard of this subject from Jamadagni's son Rama, while he discoursed on it, from the celestial Rishi Narada, and from Krishna-Dwaipayana. Asita-Devala, O son, Valmiki of austere penances, and Markandeya, speak of Govinda as the Most Wonderful and the Supreme. Kesava, O chief of Bharata's race, is the divine and puissant Lord of all. He is called Purusha, and pervades everything, having made himself many. Listen now, O Yudhishthira of mighty arms, to those attributes which great Brahmanas say are to be met with in the high-souled wielder of Saranga. I shall also, O prince of men, recite to thee those acts which persons conversant with old histories ascribe to Govinda. He is said to be the Soul of all creatures, the high-souled one, and the foremost of all beings. He created (by his will) the five-fold elements, viz., Wind, Light, Water, Space, and Earth. That puissant Lord of all things, that high-souled one, that foremost of all beings, having created the earth, laid himself down on the surface of the waters. While thus floating upon the waters, that foremost of all beings, that refuge of every kind of energy and splendour, created Consciousness, the first-born of beings in the universe. We have heard that He created Consciousness along with the Mind,--Consciousness which is the refuge of all created things. That Consciousness upholds all creatures and both the past and the future. After that great Being, O mighty-armed one, viz., Consciousness, had sprung, an exceedingly beautiful lotus, possessed of effulgence like the Sun's, grew out of the navel of the Supreme Being (floating on the waters). Then, O son, the illustrious and divine Brahman, the Grandsire of all creatures, sprang into existence from that lotus, irradiating all the points of the horizon with his effulgence. After the high-souled Grandsire had, O mighty-armed one, thus sprung from the primeval lotus, a great Asura of the name of Madhu, having no beginning, started into birth, springing from the attribute of Darkness (Tamas). The foremost of all Beings, (viz., the Supreme Divinity), for benefiting Brahman, slew that fierce Asura of fierce deeds, engaged even then in the fierce act (of slaying the Grand-sire). From this slaughter, O son, (of the Asura named Madhu), all the gods and the Danavas and men came to call that foremost of all righteous persons by the name of Madhusudana (slayer of Madhu).[704] After this, Brahman created, by a fiat of his will, seven sons with Daksha completing the tale. They were Marichi, Atri, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, (and the already mentioned Daksha). The eldest born, viz., Marichi, begat, by a fiat of his will, a son named Kasyapa, full of energy and the foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma. From his toe, Brahman had, even before the birth of Marichi, created a son. That son, O chief of Bharata's race, was Daksha, the progenitor of creatures.[705] Unto Daksha were first born three and ten daughters, O Bharata, the eldest of whom was called Diti. Marichi's son Kasyapa, O sire, who was conversant with all duties and their distinctions, who was of righteous deeds and great fame, became the husband of those thirteen daughters. The highly-blessed Daksha (besides the three and ten already spoken of) next begat ten other daughters. The progenitor of creatures, viz., the righteous Daksha, bestowed these upon Dharma. Dharma became father of the Vasus, the Rudras of immeasurable energy, the Viswedevas, the Sadhyas, and the Maruts, O Bharata. Daksha next begat seven and twenty other younger daughters. The highly-blessed Soma became the husband of them all. The other wives of Kasyapa gave birth to Gandharvas, horses, birds, kine, Kimpurushas, fishes, and trees and plants. Aditi gave birth to the Adityas, the foremost ones among the gods, and possessed of great strength. Amongst them Vishnu took birth in the form of a dwarf. Otherwise called Govinda, he became the foremost of them all. Through his prowess, the prosperity of the gods increased. The Danavas were vanquished. The offspring of Diti were the Asuras. Danu gave birth to the Danavas having Viprachitti for their foremost. Diti gave birth to all the Asuras of great strength. "'"The slayer of Madhu also created the Day and the Night, and the Season in their order, and the Morn and the Even. After reflection, he also created the clouds, and all the (other) immobile and mobile objects. Possessed of abundant energy, he also created the Viswas and the earth with all things upon her. Then the highly blessed and puissant Krishna, O Yudhishthira, once again created from his mouth a century of foremost Brahmanas. From his two arms, he created a century of Kshatriyas, and from his thighs a century of Vaisyas. Then, O bull of Bharata's race, Kesava created from his two feet a century of Sudras. Possessed of great ascetic merit, the slayer of Madhu, having thus created the four orders of men, made Dhatri (Brahman) the lord and ruler of all created beings. Of immeasurable effulgence, Brahman became also the expositor of the knowledge of the Vedas. And Kesava made him, called Virupaksha, the ruler of the spirits and ghosts and of those female beings called the Matrikas (mothers). And he made Yama the ruler of the Pitris and of all sinful men.[706] The Supreme Soul of all creatures also made Kuvera the lord of all treasures. He then created Varuna the lord of waters and governor of all aquatic animals. The puissant Vishnu made Vasava the chief of all the deities. In those times, men lived as long as they chose to live, and were without any fear of Yama. Sexual congress, O chief of the Bharatas, was then not necessary for perpetuating the species. In those days offspring were begotten by fiat of the will. In the age that followed, viz., Treta, children were begotten by touch alone. The people of that age even, O monarch, were above the necessity of sexual congress. It was in the next age, viz., Dwapara, that the practice of sexual congress originated, O king, to prevail among men. In the Kali age, O monarch, men have come to marry and live in pairs. "'"I have now told thee of the supreme Lord of all creatures. He is also called the Ruler of all and everything. I shall now, O son of Kunti, speak to thee about the sinful creatures of the earth. Listen to me.[707] Those men, O king, are born in the southern region and are called Andrakas, Guhas, Pulindas, Savaras, Chuchukas, Madrakas.[708] Those that are born in the northern region, I shall also mention. They are Yamas, Kamvojas, Gandharas, Kiratas and Barbaras. All of them, O sire, are sinful, and move on this Earth, characterised by practices similar to those of Chandalas and ravens and vultures. In the Krita age, O sire, they were nowhere on earth. It is from the Treta that they have had their origin and began to multiply, O chief of Bharata's race. When the terrible period came, joining Treta and the Dwapara, the Kshatriyas, approaching one another, engaged themselves in battle.[709] "'"Thus, O chief of Kuru's race, this universe was started into birth by the high-souled Krishna. That observer of all the worlds, viz., the celestial Rishi Narada, has said that Krishna is the Supreme God.[710] Even Narada, O king, admits the supremacy of Krishna and his eternity, O mighty-armed chief of Bharata's race.[711] Thus, O mighty-armed one, is Kesava of unvanquishable prowess. That lotus-eyed one, is not a mere man. He is inconceivable."'" SECTION CCVIII "'Yudhishthira asked, "Who were the first Prajapatis, O bull of Bharata's race? What highly-blessed Rishis are there in existence and on which points of the compass do each of them dwell?" "'Bhishma said, "Hear me, O chief of the Bharatas, about what thou askest me. I shall tell thee who the Prajapatis were and what Rishis are mentioned as dwelling on which point of the horizon. There was at first one Eternal, Divine, and Self-born Brahman. The Self-born Brahman begat seven illustrious sons. They were Marichi, Atri, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, and the highly-blessed Vasishtha who was equal to the Self-born himself. These seven sons have been mentioned in the Puranas as seven Brahmanas. I shall now mention all the Prajapatis who came after these. In Atri's race was born the eternal and divine Varhi the ancient, who had penances for his origin. From Varhi the ancient sprang the ten Prachetasas. The ten Prachetasas had one son between them, viz., the Prajapati called by the name of Daksha. This last has two names in the world, viz., Daksha and Kasyapa. Marichi had one son called Kasyapa. This last also has two names. Some call him Arishtanemi, and some Kasyapa. Atri had another son born of his loins, viz., the handsome and princely Soma of great energy. He performed penances for a thousand celestial Yugas. The divine Aryaman and they who were born unto him as his sons, O monarch, have been described as setters of commands, and creators of all creatures. Sasavindu had ten thousand wives. Upon each of them their lord begat a thousand sons, and so the tale reached ten hundred thousands. Those sons refused to call anybody else save themselves as Prajapatis. The ancient Brahmanas bestowed an appellation on the creatures of the world, derived from Sasavindu. That extensive race of the Prajapati Sasavindu became in time the progenitor of the Vrishni race. These that I have mentioned are noted as the illustrious Prajapatis. After this, I shall mention the deities that are the lords of the three worlds. Bhaga, Ansa, Aryyaman, Mitra, Varna, Savitri, Dhatri, Vivaswat of great might, Tvashtri, Pushan, Indra, and Vishnu known as the twelfth,--these are the twelve Adityas, all sprung from Kasyapa. Nasatya and Dasra are mentioned as the two Aswins. These two are the sons of the illustrious Martanda, the eighth in the above tale. These were called first the gods and the two classes of Pitris. Tvashtri had many sons. Amongst them were the handsome and famous Viswarupa, Ajaikapat, Ahi, Bradhna, Virupaksha, and Raivata. Then there were Hara and Vahurupa, Tryamvaka the chief of the Deities, and Savitrya, Jayanta and Pinaki the invincible. The highly-blessed Vasus, eight in number, have formerly been enumerated by me. These were reckoned as gods at the time of the Prajapati Manu. These were at first called the gods and the Pitris. Amongst the Siddhas and the Sadhyas there were two classes in consequence of conduct and youth. The deities were formerly considered to be of two classes, viz., the Ribhus and the Maruts. Thus have the Viswas, the gods and the Aswins, been enumerated. Amongst them, the Adityas are Kshatriyas, and the Maruts are Vaisyas. The two Aswins, engaged in severe penances, have been said to be Sudras. The deities sprung from Angirasa's line have been said to be Brahmanas. This is certain. Thus have I told thee about the fourfold order among the gods. The person who, after rising from his bed at morn, recites the names of these deities, becomes cleansed of all his sins whether committed by himself intentionally or unintentionally, or whether born of his intercourse with others. Yavakriti, Raivya, Arvavasu, Paravasu, Ausija, Kashivat, and Vala have been said to be the sons of Angiras. These, and Kanwa son of Rishi Medhatithi, and Varhishada, and the well-known seven Rishis who are the progenitors of the three worlds, all reside in the East. Unmucha, Vimucha, Svastyatreya of great energy, Pramucha, Idhmavaha, and the divine Dridhavrata, and Mitravaruna's son Agastya of great energy, these regenerate Rishis all reside in the south. Upangu, Karusha, Dhaumya, Parivyadha of great energy, and those great Rishis called Ekata, Dwita, and Trita, and Atri's son, viz., the illustrious and puissant Saraswata, these high-souled ones reside in the west. Atreya, and Vasishtha, and the great Rishi Kasyapa, and Gautama, Bharadwaja, and Viswamitra, the son of Kusika, and the illustrious son of the high-souled Richika, viz., Jamadagni,--these seven live in the north. Thus have I told thee about the great Rishis of fiery energy that live in the different points of the compass. Those high-souled ones are the witnesses of the universe, and are the creators of all the worlds. Even thus do they dwell in their respective quarters. By reciting their names one is cleansed of all one's sins. A person by repairing to those points becomes cleansed of all his sins and succeeds in returning home in safety."'" SECTION CCIX "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, O thou of great wisdom and invincible prowess in battle, I wish to hear in detail of Krishna who is immutable and omnipotent. O bull among men, tell me truly everything about his great energy and the great feats achieved by him in days of old. Why did that puissant one assume the form of an animal, and for achieving what particular act? Tell me all this, O mighty warrior!" "'Bhishma said, "Formerly, on one occasion, while out ahunting, I arrived at the hermitage of Markandeya. There I beheld diverse classes of ascetics seated by thousands. The Rishis honoured me by the offer of honey and curds. Accepting their worship, I reverentially saluted them in return. The following that I shall recite was narrated there by the great Rishi Kasyapa. Listen with close attention to that excellent and charming account. In former days, the principal Danavas, endued with wrath and cupidity, and mighty Asuras numbering by hundreds and drunk with might, and innumerable other Danavas that were invincible in battle, became exceedingly jealous of the unrivalled prosperity of the gods. Oppressed (at last) by the Danavas, the gods and the celestial Rishis, failing to obtain peace, fled away in all directions. The denizens of heaven saw the earth looking like one sunk in sore distress. Overspread with mighty Danavas of terrible mien, the earth seemed to be oppressed with a heavy weight. Cheerless and grief-stricken, she seemed as if going down into the nether depths. The Adityas, struck with fear, repaired to Brahman, and addressing him, said, 'How, O Brahman, shall we continue to bear these oppressions of the Danavas?' The Self-born answered them, saying, 'I have already ordained what is to be done in this matter. Endued with boons, and possessed of might, and swelling with pride, those senseless wretches do not know that Vishnu of invisible form, that God incapable of being vanquished by the very deities all acting together, hath assumed the form of a boar. That Supreme Deity, rushing to the spot whither those wretches among Danavas, of terrible aspect, are dwelling in thousands below the earth, will slay them all.' Hearing these words of the Grandsire, foremost ones among the deities felt great joy. Sometime after, Vishnu, of mighty energy, encased in the form of a Boar, penetrating into the nether regions, rushed against those offspring of Diti. Beholding that extraordinary creature, all the Daityas, uniting together and stupefied by Time, quickly proceeded against it for exerting their strength, and stood surrounding it. Soon after, they all rushed against that Boar and seized it simultaneously. Filled with rage they endeavoured to drag the animal from every side. Those foremost of Danavas, of huge bodies, possessed of mighty energy, swelling with strength, succeeded not, however, O monarch, in doing anything to that Boar. At this they wondered much and then became filled with fear. Numbering in thousands, they regarded that their last hour had come. Then that Supreme God of all the gods, having yoga for his soul and yoga for his companion, became rapt in yoga, O chief of the Bharatas, and began to utter tremendous roars, agitating those Daityas and Danavas. All the worlds and the ten points of the compass resounded with those roars, which, for this reason, agitated all creatures and filled them with fear. The very gods with Indra at their head became terror-stricken. The whole universe became stilled in consequence of that sound. It was a dreadful time. All mobile and immobile beings became stupefied by that sound. The Danavas, terrified by that sound, began to fall down lifeless, paralysed by the energy of Vishnu. The Boar, with its hoofs, began to pierce those enemies of the gods, those denizens of the nether regions, and tear their flesh, fat, and bones. In consequence of those tremendous roars, Vishnu came to be called by the name of Sanatana.[712] He is also called Padmanabha. He is the foremost of yogins. He is the Preceptor of all creatures, and their supreme Lord. All the tribes of the gods then repaired to the Grandsire. Arrived at the presence, those illustrious ones addressed the Lord of the universe, saying, 'What sort of a noise is this, O puissant one? We do not understand it. Who is this one, or whose is this sound at which the universe hath been stupefied? With the energy of this sound or of its maker, the gods and the Danavas have all been deprived of their senses.' Meanwhile, O mighty-armed one, Vishnu in his porcine form was in sight of the assembled gods, his praises hymned by the great Rishis. "'"The Grandsire said, 'That is the Supreme God, the Creator of all beings, the soul of all creatures, the foremost of all yogins. Of huge body and great strength, he cometh here, having slain the foremost ones among the Danavas. He is the Lord of all beings, the master of yoga, the great ascetic, the Soul of all living beings. Be still, all of you. He is Krishna, the destroyer of all obstacles and impediments.[713] That Supreme God, of immeasurable splendour, that great refuge of all blessings, having achieved a most difficult feat that is incapable of being accomplished by others, has returned to his own unmixed nature.[714] It is He from whose navel the primeval lotus had sprung. He is the foremost of yogins. Of supreme soul, He is the creator of all beings. There is no need for sorrow or fear or grief, ye foremost of gods! He is the Ordainer. He is the Creating Principle. He is all-destroying Time. It is He who upholds all the world. The roars that have alarmed you are being uttered by that high-souled one. Of mighty arms, He is the object of the universal worship. Incapable of deterioration, that lotus-eyed one is the origin of all beings and their lord.'"'" SECTION CCX "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O sire, of that high yoga by which, O Bharata, I may obtain Emancipation. O foremost of speakers, I desire to know everything about that yoga truly." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between a preceptor and his disciple on the subject of Emancipation. There was a regenerate preceptor who was the foremost of Rishis. He looked like a mass of splendour. Possessed of a high soul, he was firm in truth and a complete master of his senses. Once on a time, a disciple of great intelligence and close attention, desirous of obtaining what was for his highest good, touched the preceptor's feet, and standing with joined hands before him, said, 'If, O illustrious one, thou hast been gratified with the worship I have offered thee, it behoveth thee to solve a great doubt of mine. Whence am I and whence art thou? Tell me this fully. Tell me also what is the final cause. Why also, O best of regenerate ones, when the material cause in all beings is the same, their origin and destruction happen in such dissimilar ways? It beseems thee, O thou of great learning, also to explain the object of the declarations in the Vedas (about difference of rites in respect of different classes of men), the meaning of the injunctions of the Smritis and of those injunctions which apply to all classes of men.'[715] "'"The preceptor said, 'Listen, O disciple, O thou of great wisdom! This that thou hast asked me is undisclosed in the very Vedas and is the highest subject for thought or discourse. It is called Adhyatma and is the most valuable of all branches of learning and of all sacred institutes. Vasudeva is the Supreme (cause) of the universe. He is the origin of the Vedas (viz., Om). He is Truth, Knowledge, Sacrifice, Renunciation, Self-restraint, and Righteousness. Persons conversant with the Vedas know Him as All-pervading, Eternal, Omnipresent, the Creator and the Destroyer, the Unmanifest, Brahma, Immutable. Hear now the story of Him who took his birth in Vrishni's race. A Brahmana should hear of the greatness of that God of gods, viz., Him called Vishnu of immeasurable energy, from the lips of Brahmanas. A person of the royal order should hear it from persons of that order. One who is a Vaisya should hear it from Vaisyas, and a high-souled Sudra should hear it from Sudras. Thou deservest to hear it. Listen now to the auspicious account of Krishna, that narrative which is the foremost of all narratives. Vasudeva is the wheel of Time, without beginning and without end. Existence and Non-existence are the attributes by which His real nature is known. The universe revolves like a wheel depending upon that Lord of all beings. O best of men, Kesava, that foremost of all beings, is said to be that which is Indestructible, that which is Unmanifest, that which is Immortal, Brahma, and Immutable. The highest of the high, and without change or deterioration himself, he created the Pitris, the gods, the Rishis, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, the Nagas, the Asuras, and human beings. It is He who also created the Vedas and the eternal duties and customs of men. Having reduced everything into non-existence, he once more, in the beginning of a (new) yuga, creates Prakriti (primordial matter). As the diverse phenomena of the several seasons appear one after another according to the season that comes, after the like manner creatures start forth into existence at the beginning of every (celestial) yuga. Corresponding with those creatures that start into life is the knowledge of rules and duties that have for their object the regulation of the world's course.[716] At the end of every (celestial) yuga (when universal destruction sets in) the Vedas and all other scriptures disappear (like the rest). In consequence of the grace of the Self-born, the great Rishis, through their penances, first re-acquire the lost Vedas and the scriptures. The Self-born (Brahman) first acquired the Vedas. Their branches called the Angas were first acquired by (the celestial preceptor) Vrihaspati. Bhrigu's son (Sukra) first acquired the science of morality that is so beneficial for the universe. The science of music was acquired by Narada; that of arms by Bharadwaja; the history of the celestial Rishis by Gargya: that of medicine by the dark-complexioned son of Atri. Diverse other Rishis, whose names are connected therewith, promulgated diverse other sciences such as Nyaya, Vaiseshika, Sankhya, Patanjala, etc. Let that Brahma which those Rishis have indicated by arguments drawn from reason, by means of the Vedas, and by inferences drawn from the direct evidence of the senses, be adored. Neither the gods nor the Rishis were (at first) able to apprehend Brahma which is without beginning and which is the highest of the high. Only the divine creator of all things, viz., the puissant Narayana, had knowledge of Brahma. From Narayana, the Rishis, the foremost ones among the deities and the Asuras, and the royal sages of old, derived the knowledge of that highest remedy of the cure of sorrow. When primordial matter produces existences through the action of the primal energy, the universe with all its potencies begins to flow from it. From one lighted lamp thousands of other lamps are capable of being lighted. After the same manner, primordial matter produces thousands of existent things. In consequence, again, of its infinity primordial matter is never exhausted. From the Unmanifest flows the Understanding determined by acts. The Understanding produces Consciousness. From Consciousness proceeds Space. From Space proceeds Wind. From the Wind proceeds Heat. From Heat proceeds Water, and from Water is produced the Earth. These eight constitute primordial Prakriti. The universe rests on them. From those Eight have originated the five organs of knowledge, the five organs of action, the five objects of the (first five) organs, and the one, viz., the Mind, forming the sixteenth, which is the result of their modification. The ear, the skin, the two eyes, the tongue, and the nose are the five organs of knowledge. The two feet, the lower duct, the organ of generation, the two arms, and speech, are the five organs of action. Sound, touch, form, taste, and smell are the five objects of the senses, covering all the things. The Mind dwells upon all the senses and their objects. In the perception of taste, it is the Mind that becomes the tongue, and in speech it is the Mind that becomes words. Endued with the different senses, it is the Mind that becomes all the objects that exist in its apprehension. These sixteen, existing in their respective forms, should be known as deities. These worship Him who creates all knowledge and dwells within the body. Taste is the attribute of water; scent is the attribute of earth; hearing is the attribute of space; vision is the attribute of fire or light; and touch should be known as the attribute of the wind. This is the case with all creatures at all times. The Mind, it has been said, is the attribute of existence. Existence springs from the Unmanifest (of Prakriti) which, every intelligent person should know, rests in That which is the Soul of all existent beings. These existences, resting upon the supreme Divinity that is above Prakriti and that is without any inclination for action, uphold the entire universe of mobiles and immobiles. This sacred edifice of nine doors[717] is endued with all these existences. That which is high above them, viz., the Soul, dwells within it, pervading it all over. For this reason, it is called Purusha. The Soul is without decay and not subject to death. It has knowledge of what is manifest and what is unmanifest. It is again all-pervading, possessed of attributes, subtile, and the refuge of all existences and attributes. As a lamp discovers all objects great or small (irrespective of its own size), after the same manner the Soul dwells in all creatures as the principle of knowledge (regardless of the attributes or accidents of those creatures). Urging the ear to hear what it hears, it is the Soul that hears. Similarly, employing the eye, it is the Soul that sees. This body furnishes the means by which the Soul derives knowledge. The bodily organs are not the doers, but it is the Soul that is the doer of all acts. There is fire in wood, but it can never be seen by cutting open a piece of wood. After the same manner, the Soul dwells within the body, but it can never be seen by dissecting the body. The fire that dwells in wood may be seen by employing proper means, viz., rubbing the wood with another piece of wood. After the same manner, the Soul which dwells within the body may be seen by employing proper means, viz., yoga. Water must exist in rivers. Rays of light are always attached to the sun. After the same manner, the Soul has a body. This connection does not cease because of the constant succession of bodies that the Soul has to enter.[718] In a dream, the Soul, endued with the fivefold senses, leaves the body and roves over wide areas. After the same manner, when death ensues, the Soul (with the senses in their subtile forms) passes out of one body for entering another. The Soul is bound by its own former acts. Bound by its own acts done in one state of existence, it attains to another state. Indeed, it is led from one into another body by its own acts which are very powerful in respect of their consequences. How the owner of a human body, leaving off his body, enters another, and then again into another, how, indeed, the entire range of beings is the result of their respective acts (of past and present lives), I will presently tell you.'"'" SECTION CCXI "'Bhishma said, "All immobile and mobile beings, distributed into four classes, have been said to be of unmanifest birth and unmanifest death. Existing only in the unmanifest Soul, the Mind is said to possess the attributes of the unmanifest.[719] As a vast tree is ensconced within a small unblown Aswattha flower and becomes observable only when it comes out, even so birth takes place from what is unmanifest. A piece of iron, which is inanimate, runs towards a piece of loadstone. Similarly, inclinations and propensities due to natural instincts, and all else, run towards the Soul in a new life.[720] Indeed, even as those propensities and possessions born of Ignorance and Delusion, and inanimate in respect of their nature, are united with Soul when reborn, after the same manner, those other propensities and aspirations of the Soul that have their gaze directed towards Brahma become united with it, coming to it directly from Brahma itself.[721] Neither earth, nor sky, nor heaven, nor things, nor the vital breaths, nor virtue and vice, nor anything else, existed before, save the Chit-Soul. Nor have they any necessary connection with even the Chit-Soul defiled by Ignorance.[722] The Soul is eternal. It is indestructible. It occurs in every creature. It is the cause of the Mind. It is without attributes. This universe that we perceive hath been declared (in the Vedas) to be due to Ignorance or Delusion. The Soul's apprehensions of form, etc., are due to past desires.[723] The Soul, when it becomes endued with those causes (viz., desire), is led to the state of its being engaged in acts. In consequence of that condition (for those acts again produce desires to end in acts anew and so on),--this vast wheel to existence revolves, without beginning and without end.[724] The Unmanifest, viz., the Understanding (with the desires), is the nave of that wheel. The Manifest (i.e., the body with the senses) constitutes its assemblage of spokes, the perceptions and acts from its circumference. Propelled by the quality of Rajas (Passion), the Soul presides over it (witnessing its revolutions). Like oilmen pressing oilseeds in their machine, the consequences born of Ignorance, assailing the universe (of creatures) which is moistened by Rajas, press or grind it in that wheel. In that succession of existences, the living creature, seized by the idea of Self in consequence of desire, engages itself in acts. In the union of cause and effect, those acts again become (new causes).[725] Effects do not enter into causes. Nor do causes enter into effects. In the production of effects, Time is the Cause. The primordial essences (eight in number as mentioned before), and their modifications six-(teen in number), fraught with causes, exists in a state of union, in consequence of their being always presided over by the Soul. Like dust following the wind that moves it, the creature-Soul, divested of body, but endued still with inclinations born of Passion and Darkness and with principles of causes constituted by the acts of the life that is over, moves on, following the direction that the Supreme Soul gives it. The Soul, however, is never touched by those inclinations and propensities. Nor are these touched by the Soul that is superior to them. The wind, which is naturally pure, is never stained by the dust it bears away.[726] As the wind is truly separate from the dust it bears away, even so, the man of wisdom should know, is the connection between that which is called existence or life and the Soul. No one should take it that the Soul, in consequence of its apparent union with the body and the senses and the other propensities and beliefs and unbeliefs, is really endued therewith as its necessary and absolute qualities. On the other hand, the Soul should be taken as existing in its own nature. Thus did the divine Rishi solve the doubt that had taken possession of his disciple's mind. Notwithstanding all this, people depend upon means consisting of acts and scriptural rites for casting off misery and winning happiness. Seeds that are scorched by fire do not put forth sprouts. After the same manner, if everything that contributes to misery be consumed by the fire of true knowledge, the Soul escapes the obligation of rebirth in the world."'" SECTION CCXII "'Bhishma said, "Persons engaged in the practice of acts regard the practice of acts highly. Similarly, those that are devoted to Knowledge do not regard anything other than Knowledge. Persons fully conversant with the Vedas and depending upon the utterances contained in them, are rare. They that are more intelligent desire the path of abstention from acts as the better of the two, viz., heaven and emancipation.[727] Abstention from acts is observed by those that are possessed of great wisdom. That conduct, therefore, is laudable. The intelligence which urges to abstention from acts, is that by which one attains to Emancipation. Possessed of body, a person, through folly, and endued with wrath and cupidity and all the propensities born of Passion and Darkness, becomes attached to all earthly objects. One, therefore, who desires to destroy one's connection with the body, should never indulge in any impure act. On the other hand, one should create by one's acts a path for attaining to emancipation, without wishing for regions of felicity (in the next world).[728] As gold, when united with iron, loses its purity and fails to shine, even so Knowledge, when existing with attachment to earthly objects and such other faults, fails to put forth its splendour.[729] He who, influenced by cupidity and following the dictates of desire and wrath, practises unrighteousness, transgressing the path of righteousness, meets with complete destruction.[730] One who is desirous of benefiting oneself should never follow, with excess of attachments, earthly possessions represented by the objects of the senses. If one does it, wrath and joy and sorrow arise from one another (and make one miserable). When every one's body is made up of the five original elements as also of the three attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness, whom shall one adore and whom shall one blame with what words? Only they that are fools become attached to the objects of the senses. In consequence of folly they do not know that their bodies are only modifications.[731] "'"As a house made of earth is plastered over with earth, even so this body which is made of earth is kept from destruction by food which is only a modification of earth. Honey and oil and milk and butter and meat and salt and treacle and grain of all kinds and fruit and roots are all modifications of earth and water. Recluses living in the wilderness, giving up all longing (for rich and savoury food), take simple food, that is again unsavoury, for only supporting the body. After the same manner, a person that dwells in the wilderness of the world, should be ready for labour and should take food for passing through life, like a patient taking medicine.[732] A person of noble soul, examining all things of an earthly nature that come upon him, by the aid of truth, purity, candour, a spirit of renunciation, enlightenment, courage, forgiveness, fortitude, intelligence, reflection, and austerities, and desirous of obtaining tranquillity, should restrain his senses. All creatures, stupefied, in consequence of Ignorance, by the attributes of Goodness and Passion and Darkness, are continually revolving like a wheel. All faults, therefore, that are born of Ignorance, should be closely examined and the idea of Self which has its origin in Ignorance, and which is productive of misery, should be avoided. The fivefold elements, the senses, the attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness, the three worlds with the Supreme Being himself, and acts, all rest on Self-consciousness.[733] As Time, under its own laws, always displays the phenomena of the seasons one after another, even so one should know that Consciousness in all creatures is the inducer of acts.[734] Tamas (from which proceeds Consciousness) should be known as productive of delusions. It is like Darkness and is born of Ignorance. To the three attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness are attached all the joys and sorrows (of creatures). Listen now to those consequences that spring from the attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness. Contentment, the satisfaction that arises from joy, certainty, intelligence, and memory,--these are the consequences born of the attribute of Goodness. I shall now mention the consequences of Passion and Darkness. Desire, wrath, error, cupidity, stupefaction, fear, and fatigue, belong to the attribute of Passion. Cheerlessness, grief, discontent, vanity, pride, and wickedness, all belong to Darkness. Examining the gravity or lightness of these and other faults that dwell in the Soul, one should reflect upon each of them one after another (for ascertaining which of them exist, which have become strong or weak, which have been driven off, and which remain)." "'Yudhishthira said, "What faults are abandoned by persons desirous of Emancipation? What are those that are weakened by them? What are the faults that come repeatedly (and are, therefore, incapable of being got rid of)? What, again, are regarded as weak, through stupefaction (and, therefore, as permissible)? What, indeed, are those faults upon whose strength and weakness a wise man should reflect with the aid of intelligence and of reasons? I have doubts upon these subjects. Discourse to me on these, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "A person of pure Soul, by extracting all his faults by their roots, succeeds in obtaining Emancipation. As an axe made of steel cuts a steel chain (and accomplishing the act becomes broken itself), after the same manner, a person of cleansed Soul, destroying all the faults that spring from Darkness and that are born with the Soul (when it is reborn), succeeds in dissolving his connection with the body (and attaining Emancipation).[735] The qualities having their origin in Passion, those that spring from Darkness, and those stainless ones characterised by purity (viz., those included under the quality of Goodness), constitute as it were the seed from which all embodied creatures have grown. Amongst these, the attribute of Goodness alone is the cause through which persons of cleansed souls succeed in attaining to Emancipation. A person of cleansed soul, therefore, should abandon all the qualities born of Passion and Darkness. Then again, when the quality of Goodness becomes freed from those of Passion and Darkness, it becomes more resplendent still. Some say that sacrifices and other acts performed with the aid of mantras, and which certainly contribute to the purification of the Soul, are evil or cruel acts. (This view is not correct). On the other hand, those acts are the chief means for dissociating the Soul from all worldly attachments, and for the observance of the religion of tranquillity. Through the influence of the qualities born of Passion, all unrighteous acts are performed, and all acts fraught with earthly purposes as also all such acts as spring from desire are accomplished. Through qualities born of Darkness, one does all acts fraught with cupidity and springing from wrath. In consequence of the attribute of Darkness, one embraces sleep and procrastination and becomes addicted to all acts of cruelty and carnal pleasure. That person, however, who, possessed of faith and scriptural knowledge, is observant of the attribute of Goodness, attends only to all good things, and becomes endued with (moral) beauty and soul free from every taint."'" SECTION CCXIII "'Bhishma said, "From the attribute of Passion arises delusion or loss of judgment. From the attribute of Darkness, O bull of Bharata's race, arise wrath and cupidity and fear and pride. When all these are destroyed, one becomes pure. By obtaining purity, a person succeeds in arriving at the knowledge of the Supreme Soul which is resplendent with effulgence, incapable of deterioration, without change, pervading all things, having the unmanifest for his refuge, and the foremost of all the deities. Invested in His maya, men fall away from knowledge and become senseless, and in consequence of their knowledge being darkened, yield to wrath.[736] From wrath, they become subject to desire. From desire spring cupidity and delusion and vanity and pride and selfishness. From such selfishness proceeds various kinds of acts.[737] From acts spring diverse bonds of affection and from those bonds of affection spring sorrow or misery and from acts fraught with joy and sorrow proceeds the liability to birth and death.[738] In consequence of the obligation of birth, the liability is incurred of a residence within the womb, due to the union of vital seed and blood. That residence is defiled with excreta and urine and phlegm, and always fouled with blood that is generated there. Overwhelmed by thirst, the Chit-Soul becomes bound by wrath and the rest that have been enumerated above. It seeks, however, to escape those evils. In respect of this, women must be regarded as instruments which set the stream of Creation agoing. By their nature, women are Kshetra, and men are Kshetrajna in respect of attributes. For this reason, persons of wisdom should not pursue women in especial (among other objects of the world).[739] Indeed, women are like frightful mantra-powers. They stupefy persons reft of wisdom. They are sunk in the attribute of Passion. They are the eternal embodiment of the senses.[740] In consequence of the keen desire that men entertain for women, off-spring proceed from them, due to (the action of) the vital seed. As one casts off from one's body such vermin as take their birth there but as are not on that account any part of oneself, even so should one cast off those vermin of one's body that are called children, who, though regarded as one's own, are not one's own in reality. From the vital seed as from sweat (and other filth) creatures spring from the body, influenced by the acts of previous lives or in the course of nature. Therefore, one possessed of wisdom should feel no regard for them.[741] The attribute of Passion rests on that of Darkness. The attribute of Goodness, again, rests on that of Passion. Darkness which is unmanifest overspreads itself on Knowledge, and causes the phenomena of Intelligence and Consciousness.[742] That knowledge possessing the attributes of Intelligence and Consciousness has been said to be the seed of embodied Souls. That, again, which is the seed of such knowledge is called the Jiva (or Chit-Soul).[743] In consequence of acts and the virtue of time, the Soul goes through birth and repeated rounds of rebirth. As in a dream the Soul sports as if invested with a body which, of course, is due to the action of the mind, after the same manner, it obtains in the mother's womb a body in consequence of attributes and propensities having (past) acts for their origin. Whatever senses while it is there, are awakened by past acts as the operating cause, become generated in Consciousness in consequence of the mind co-existing with attachments.[744] In consequence of the past thoughts of sound that are awakened in it, the Soul, subjected to such influences, receives the organ of hearing. Similarly, from attachment to forms, its eye is produced, and from its longing after scent its organ of smelling. From thoughts of touch it acquires the skin. In the same way the five-fold breaths are acquired by it, viz., Prana, Apana, Vyana, Udana, and Samana, which contribute to keep the body agoing. Encased in body with all limbs fully developed in consequence (as shown above) of past acts, the Soul takes birth, with sorrow, both physical and mental, in the beginning, middle, and end. It should be known that sorrow springs from the very fact of acceptance of body (in the womb). It increases with the idea of Self. From renunciation of these (attachments which are the cause of birth), sorrow meets with an end. He that is conversant with sorrow's end attains to Emancipation.[745] Both the origin and the destruction of the senses rest in the attribute of Passion. The man of wisdom should act with proper scrutiny with the aid of the eye constituted by the scriptures.[746] The senses of knowledge, even if they succeed in earning all their objects, never succeed in overwhelming the man that is without thirst. The embodied Soul, by making its senses weak, escapes the obligation or rebirth."'"[747] SECTION CCXIV "'Bhishma said, "I shall now tell thee what the means are (for conquering the senses) as seen with the eye of the scriptures. A person, O king, will attain to the highest end by the help of such knowledge and by framing his conduct accordingly. Amongst all living creatures man is said to be the foremost. "'"Among men, those that are regenerate have been called the foremost; and amongst the regenerate, they that are conversant with the Vedas. These last are regarded as the souls of all living creatures. Indeed, those Brahmanas that are conversant with the Vedas are regarded as all-seeing and omniscient. They are persons who have become conversant with Brahma. As a blind man, without a guide, encounters many difficulties on a road, so has a person destitute of knowledge to encounter many obstacles in the world. For this reason, those that are possessed of knowledge are regarded as superior to the rest. Those that are desirous of acquiring virtue practise diverse kinds of rites according to the dictates of the scriptures. They do not, however, succeed in attaining to Emancipation, all that they gain being those good qualities of which I shall presently speak.[748] Purity of speech, of body, and of mind, forgiveness, truth, steadiness, and intelligence,--these good qualities are displayed by righteous persons observant of both kinds of religion. That which is called Brahmacharya (religion of abstention or yoga) is regarded as the means of attaining to Brahma. That is the foremost of all religions. It is by the practice of that religion that one obtains the highest end (viz., Emancipation). Brahmacharya is divested of all connection with the five vital breaths, mind, understanding, the five senses of perception, and the five senses of action. It is on that account free from all the perceptions that the senses give. It is heard only as a word, and its form, without being seen, can only be conceived. It is a state of existence depending only on the mind. It is free from all connection with the senses. That sinless state should be attained to by the understanding alone. He that practises it duly attains to Brahma; he that practises it half and half, attains to the condition of the gods; while he that practises it indifferently, takes birth among Brahmanas and possessed of learning attains to eminence. Brahmacharya is exceedingly difficult to practise. Listen now to the means (by which one may practise it). That regenerate person who betakes himself to it should subdue the quality of Passion as soon as it begins to manifest itself or as soon as it begins to be powerful. One that has betaken oneself to that vow should not speak with women. He should never cast his eyes on an undressed woman. The sight of women, under even indifferent circumstances, fills all weak-minded men with Passion. If a person (while observing this vow) feels a desire for woman rising in his heart, he should (as an expiation) observe the vow called Krichcchra and also pass three days in water.[749] If desire is entertained in course of a dream, one should, diving in water, mentally repeat for three times the three Riks by Aghamarshana.[750] That wise man who has betaken himself to the practice of this vow should, with an extended and enlightened mind, burn the sins in his mind which are all due to the quality of Passion. As the duct that bears away the refuse of the body is very closely connected with the body, even so the embodied Soul is very closely connected with the body that confines it. The different kinds of juices, passing through the network of arteries, nourish men's wind and bile and phlegm, blood and skin and flesh, intestines and bones and marrow, and the whole body. Know that there are ten principal ducts. These assist the functions of the five senses. From those ten branch out thousands of other ducts that are minuter in form. Like rivers filling the ocean at the proper season, all these ducts, containing juices nourish the body. Leading to the heart there is a duct called Manovaha. It draws from every part of the human body the vital seed which is born of desire. Numerous other ducts branching out from that principal one extend into every part of the body and bearing the element of heat cause the sense of vision (and the rest). As the butter that lies within milk is churned up by churning rods, even so the desires that are generated in the mind (by the sight or thought of women) draw together the vital seed that lies within the body. In the midst of even our dreams passion having birth in imagination assails the mind, with the result that the duct already named, viz., Manovaha, throws out the vital seed born of desire. The great and divine Rishi Atri is well-conversant with the subject of the generation of the vital seed. The juices that are yielded by food, the duct called Manovaha, and the desire that is born of imagination,--these three are the causes that originate the vital seed which has Indra for its presiding deity. The passion that aids in the emission of this fluid is, therefore, called Indriya. Those persons who know that the course of vital seed is the cause of (that sinful state of things called) intermixture of castes, are men of restrained passions. Their sins are regarded to have been burnt off, and they are never subjected to rebirth. He that betakes himself to action simply for the purposes of sustaining his body, reducing with the aid of the mind the (three) attributes (of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness) into a state of uniformity, and brings at his last moments the vital breaths to the duct called Manovaha, escapes the obligation of rebirth.[751] The Mind is sure to gain Knowledge. It is the Mind that takes the form of all things. The minds of all high-souled persons, attaining to success through meditation, become freed from desire, eternal, and luminous.[752] Therefore, for destroying the mind (as mind), one should do only sinless deeds and freeing oneself from the attributes of Passion and Darkness, one is sure to attain to an end that is very desirable.[753] Knowledge (ordinarily) acquired in younger days becomes weakened with decrepitude. A person, however, of ripe understanding succeeds, through the auspicious effects of past lives, in destroying his desires.[754] Such a person, by transcending the bonds of the body and the senses like a traveller crossing a path full of obstacles, and transgressing all faults he sees, succeeds in tasting the nectar (of Emancipation)."'" SECTION CCXV "'Bhishma said, "Living creatures, by being attached to objects of the senses which are always fraught with evil, become helpless. Those high-souled persons, however, who are not attached to them, attain to the highest end. The man of intelligence, beholding the world over-whelmed with the evils constituted by birth, death, decrepitude, sorrow, disease, and anxieties, should exert themselves for the attainment of Emancipation. He should be pure in speech, thought, and body; he should be free from pride. Of tranquil soul and possessed of knowledge, he should lead a life of mendicancy, and pursue happiness without being attached to any worldly object. Again, if attachment be seen to possess the mind in consequence of compassion to creatures, he should, seeing that the universe is the result of acts, show indifference in respect of compassion itself.[755] Whatever good acts are performed, or whatever sin (is perpetrated), the doer tastes the consequences. Hence, one should, in speech, thought, and deed, do only acts that are good.[756] He succeeds in obtaining happiness who practises abstention from injuring (others), truthfulness of speech, honesty towards all creatures, and forgiveness, and who is never heedless. Hence one, exercising one's intelligence, should dispose one's mind, after training it, on peace towards all creatures.[757] That man who regards the practice of the virtues enumerated above as the highest duty, as conducive to the happiness of all creatures, and as destructive of all kinds of sorrow, is possessed of the highest knowledge, and succeeds in obtaining happiness. Hence (as already said), one should, exercising one's intelligence, dispose one's mind, after training it, on peace towards all creatures. One should never think of doing evil to others. One should not covet what is far above one's power to attain. One should not turn one's thoughts towards objects that are non-existent. One should, on the other hand, direct one's mind towards knowledge by such persistent efforts as are sure to succeed.[758] With the aid of the declarations of the Srutis and of persistent efforts calculated to bring success, that Knowledge is sure to flow. One that is desirous of saying good words or observing a religion that is refined of all dross, should utter only truth that is not fraught with any malice or censure. One that is possessed of a sound heart should utter words that are not fraught with dishonesty, that are not harsh, that are not cruel, that are not evil, and that are not characterised by garrulity. The universe is bound in speech. If disposed to renunciation (of all worldly objects) then should one proclaim,[759] which a mind fraught with humility and a cleansed understanding, one's own evil acts.[760] He who betakes himself to action, impelled thereto by propensities fraught with the attribute of Passion, obtains much misery in this world and at last sinks into hell. One should, therefore, practise self-restraint in body, speech, and mind. Ignorant persons bearing the burdens of the world are like robbers laden with their booty of straggling sheep (secreted from herds taken out for pasture). The latter are always regardful of roads that are unfavourable to them (owing to the presence of the king's watch).[761] Indeed, as robbers have to throw away their spoil if they wish for safety, even so should a person cast off all acts dictated by Passion and Darkness if he is to obtain felicity. Without doubt, a person that is without desire, free from the bonds of the world, contented to live in solitude, abstemious in diet, devoted to penances and with senses under control, that has burnt all his sorrows by (the acquisition of) knowledge, that takes a pleasure in practising all the particulars of yoga discipline, and that has a cleansed soul, succeeds, in consequence of his mind being withdrawn into itself, in attaining to Brahma or Emancipation.[762] One endued with patience and a cleansed soul, should, without doubt, control one's understanding. With the understanding (thus disciplined), one should next control one's mind, and then with the mind overpower the objects of the senses. Upon the mind being thus brought under control and the senses being all subdued, the senses will become luminous and gladly enter into Brahma. When one's senses are withdrawn into the mind, the result that occurs is that Brahma becomes manifested in it. Indeed, when the senses are destroyed, and the soul returns to the attribute of pure existence, it comes to be regarded as transformed into Brahma. Then again, one should never make a display of one's yoga power. On the other hand, one should always exert to restrain one's senses by practising the rules of yoga. Indeed, one engaged in the practice of yoga rules should do all those acts by which one's conduct and disposition may become pure.[763] (Without making one's yoga powers the means of one's subsistence) one should rather live upon broken grains of corn, ripe beans, dry cakes of seeds from which the oil has been pressed out, pot-herbs, half-ripe barley, flour of fried pulses, fruits, and roots, obtained in alms.[764] Reflecting upon the characteristics of time and place, one should according to one's inclinations observe, after proper examination, vows and rules about fasts. One should not suspend an observance that has been begun. Like one slowly creating a fire, one should gradually extend an act that is prompted by knowledge. By doing so, Brahma gradually shines in one like the Sun. The Ignorance which has Knowledge for its resting ground, extends its influence over all the three states (of waking, dreaming and dreamless slumber). The Knowledge, again, that follows the Understanding, is assailed by Ignorance.[765] The evil-hearted person fails to obtain a knowledge of the Soul in consequence of taking it as united with the three states although in reality it transcends them all. When, however, he succeeds in apprehending the limits under which the two, viz., union with the three states and separation from them, are manifested, it is then that he becomes divested of attachment and attains to Emancipation. When such an apprehension has been attained, one transcends the effects of age, rises superior to the consequences of decrepitude and death, and obtains Brahma which is eternal, deathless, immutable, undeteriorating."'" SECTION CCXVI "'Bhishma said, "The yogin who wishes to always practise sinless Brahmacharya and who is impressed with the faults attaching to dreams should, with his whole heart, seek to abandon sleep. In dreams, the embodied soul, affected by the attributes of Passion and Darkness, seems to become possessed of another body and move and act influenced by desire.[766] In consequence of application for the acquisition of knowledge and of continued reflection and recapitulation, the yogin remains always awake. Indeed, the yogin can keep himself continually awake by devoting himself to knowledge. On this topic it has been asked what is this state in which the embodied creature thinks himself surrounded by and engaged in objects and acts? True it is that the embodied being, with its senses really suspended, still thinks itself to be possessed of body with all the senses of knowledge and of action. As regards the question started, it is said that that master of yoga, named Hari, comprehends truly how it happens. The great Rishis say that the explanation offered by Hari is correct and consistent with reason. The learned say that it is in consequence of the senses being worn out with fatigue, dreams are experienced by all creatures. (Though the senses are suspended) the mind, however, never disappears (or becomes inactive) and hence arise dreams. This is said by all to be their noted cause. As the imaginings of a person that is awake and engaged in acts, are due only to the creative power of the mind, after the same manner the impressions in a dream appertain only to the mind. A person with desire and attachment obtains those imaginings (in dreams) based upon the impressions of countless lives in the past. Nothing that impresses the mind once is ever lost, and the Soul being cognisant of all those impressions causes them to come forth from obscurity.[767] Whichever among the three attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness is brought about by the influence of past acts and by whichever amongst them the mind is affected for the time being in whatever way, the elements (in their subtile forms) display or indicate accordingly (in the way of images).[768] After images have thus been produced, the particular attribute of Goodness or Passion or Darkness that may have been brought by past act rises in the mind and conduces to its last result, viz., happiness or misery. Those images having wind, bile, and phlegm for their chief causes, which men apprehend through ignorance and in consequence of propensities fraught with Passion and Darkness, cannot, it has been said, be easily discarded.[769] Whatever objects again a person perceives in the mind (while wakeful) through the senses in a state of perspicuity are apprehended by the mind in dreams while the senses are obscured in respect of their functions.[770] The Mind exists unobstructedly in all things. This is due to the nature of the Soul. The Soul should be comprehended. All the elements and the objects they compose exist in the Soul.[771] In the state called dreamless slumber (sushupti), the manifest human body which, of course, is the door of dreams, disappears in the mind. Occupying the body the mind enters the soul which is manifest and upon which all existent and non-existent things depend, and becomes transformed into a wakeful witness with certainty of apprehension. Thus dwelling in pure Consciousness which is the soul of all things, it is regarded by the learned as transcending both Consciousness and all things in the universe.[772] That yogin who in consequence of desire covets any of the divine attributes (of Knowledge or Renunciation, etc.) should regard a pure mind to be identical with the object of his desire. All things rest in a pure mind or soul.[773] This is the result attained to by one who is engaged in penances. That yogin, however, who has crossed Darkness or ignorance, becomes possessed of transcending effulgence. When darkness or ignorance has been transcended, the embodied Soul becomes Supreme Brahma, the cause of the universe.[774] The deities have penances and Vedic rites. Darkness (or pride and cruelty), which is destructive of the former, has been adopted by the Asuras. This, viz., Brahma, which has been said to have Knowledge only for its attribute, is difficult of attainment by either the deities or the Asuras. It should be known that the qualities of Goodness, Passion and Darkness belong to the deities and the Asuras. Goodness is the attribute of the deities; while the two others belong to the Asuras. Brahma transcends all those attributes. It is pure Knowledge. It is Deathlessness. It is pure effulgence. It is undeteriorating. Those persons of cleansed souls who know Brahma attain to the highest end. One having knowledge for one's eye can say this much with the aid of reason and analogy. Brahma which is indestructible can be comprehended by only withdrawing the senses and the mind (from external objects into the soul itself)."'"[775] SECTION CCXVII "'Bhishma said, "He cannot be said to know Brahma who does not know the four topics (viz., dreams, dreamless slumber, Brahma as indicated by attributes, and Brahma as transcending all attributes), as also what is Manifest (viz., the body), and what is Unmanifest (the chit-soul), which the great Rishi (Narayana) has described as Tattwam.[776] That which is manifest should be known as liable to death. That which is unmanifest (viz., the chit-soul), should be known as transcending death. The Rishi Narayana has described the religion of Pravritti. Upon that rests the whole universe with its mobile and immobile creatures. The religion of Nivritti again leads to the unmanifest and eternal Brahma.[777] The Creator (Brahma) has described the religion of Pravritti. Pravritti implies rebirth or return. Nivritti, on the other hand, implies the highest end. The ascetic who desires to discriminate with exactitude between good and evil, who is always bent on understanding the nature of the Soul, and who devotes himself to the religion of Nivritti, attains to that high end.[778] One desirous of accomplishing this, should know both the Unmanifest and Purusha of which I shall speak presently. That, again, which is different from both the Unmanifest and Purusha, and which transcends them both, and which is distinguished from all beings, should be particularly viewed by one possessed of intelligence.[779] Both Prakriti and Purusha are without beginning and without end. Both are incapable of being known by their like. Both are eternal and indestructible. Both are greater than the greatest (of being). In these they are similar. They are points of dissimilarity again between them. (Of these I shall speak presently). Prakriti is fraught with the three attributes (of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness). It is also engaged in creation. The true attributes of Kshetrajna (Purusha or the Soul) should be known to be different.[780] Purusha is the apprehender of all the transformations of Prakriti (but cannot be apprehended himself). He transcends (in respect of his original nature) all attributes. As regards Purusha and the Supreme Soul again, both of them are incomprehensible. In consequence again of both of them being without attributes by which they can be distinguished, both are highly distinguished from all else.[781] A turbaned person has his head circled with three folds of a piece of cloth. (The person, however, is not identical with the turban he wears). After the same manner the embodied Soul is invested with the three attributes of Goodness, Passion, and Darkness. But though thus invested, the Soul is not identical with those attributes. Hence these four topics, which are covered by these fourfold considerations, should be understood.[782] One who understands all this is never stupefied when one has to draw conclusions (in respect of all subjects of enquiry). He that is desirous of attaining to high prosperity should become pure in mind, and betaking himself to austere practices in respect of the body and the senses, should devote himself to yoga without desire of fruits. The universe is pervaded by yoga power secretly circulating through every part of it and illumining it brightly. The sun and the moon shine with effulgence in the firmament of the heart in consequence of yoga power. The result of yoga is Knowledge. Yoga is talked of very highly in the world.[783] Whatever acts are destructive of Passion and Darkness constitute yoga in respect of its real character. Brahmacharya and abstention from injury are said to constitute yoga of the body; while restraining mind and speech properly are said to constitute yoga of the mind. The food that is obtained in alms from regenerate persons conversant with the ritual is distinguished from all other food. By taking that food abstemiously, one's sins born of Passion begin to fade. A yogin subsisting upon such food finds his senses gradually withdrawn from their objects. Hence, he should take only that measure of food which is strictly necessary for the support of his body. (Another advice that may be offered is that) that knowledge which one obtains gradually by mind devoted to yoga should cheerfully be made one's own during one's last moments by a forcible stretch of power.[784] The embodied Soul, when divested of Rajas (does not immediately attain to Emancipation but) assumes a subtile form with all the senses of perception and moves about in space. When his mind becomes unaffected by acts, he, in consequence of such renunciation (loses that subtile form and) becomes merged in Prakriti (without however, yet attaining to Brahma or Emancipation which transcends Prakriti).[785] After the destruction of this gross body, one who through absence of heedlessness escapes from all the three bodies (viz., the gross, the subtile and the karana) succeeds in attaining to Emancipation.[786] The birth and death of creatures always depend upon the cause constituted by original Ignorance (or Avidya). When knowledge of Brahma arises, necessity no longer pursues the person. Those, however, that accept what is the reverse of truth (by believing that to be Self which is really not-Self) are men whose understandings are always taken up with the birth and death of all existent things. (Such people never dream even of Emancipation).[787] Supporting their bodies by aid of patience, withdrawing their hearts from all external objects by the aid of their understanding, and withdrawing themselves from the world of senses, some yogins adore the senses in consequence of their subtility.[788] Some amongst them, with mind cleansed by yoga, proceeding according to (the stages indicated in) the scriptures and reaching the highest, succeed in knowing it by the aid of the understanding and dwell in that which is the highest and which without resting on any other thing rests on itself.[789] Some worship Brahma in images. Some worship Him as existing with attributes. Some repeatedly realise the highest Divinity which has been described to be like a flash of lightning and which is again indestructible.[790] Others who have burnt their sins by penances, attain to Brahma in the end. All those high-souled persons attain to the highest end. With the eye of scripture one should observe the subtile attributes of these several forms, as distinguished by attributes, of Brahma that are (thus) worshipped by men. The yogin who has transcended the necessity of depending on the body, who has cast off all attachments, and whose mind is devoted to yoga abstraction, should be known as another instance of Infinity, as the Supreme Divinity, or as that which is Unmanifest.[791] They whose hearts are devoted to the acquisition of knowledge succeed first in freeing themselves from the world of mortals. Subsequently, by casting off attachments they partake of the nature of Brahma and at last attain to the highest end. "'"Thus have persons conversant with the Vedas spoken of the religion that leads to the attainment of Brahma. They who follow that religion according to the measure of their knowledge all succeed in obtaining the highest end. Even those persons who succeed in acquiring knowledge that is incapable of being shaken (by the assaults of scepticism) and that makes its possessors free from attachments of every kind, attain to various high regions after death and become emancipated according to the measure of their knowledge. Those persons of pure hearts who have imbibed contentment from knowledge, and who have cast off all desires and attachments, gradually approach in respect of their nature, nearer and nearer to Brahma which has the unmanifest for his attribute, which is divine, and without birth and death. Realising that Brahma dwells in their Souls, they become themselves immutable and have never to return (to the earth). Attaining to that supreme state which is indestructible and eternal, they exist in felicity. The knowledge with respect to this world is even this: it exists (in the case of erring persons). It does not exist (in the case of those who have not been stupefied by error). The whole universe, bound up in desire, is revolving like a wheel. As the fibres of a lotus-stalk overspread themselves into every part of the stalk, after the same manner the fibres of desire, which have neither beginning nor end, spread themselves over every part of the body. As a weaver drives his threads into a cloth by means of his shuttle, after the same manner the threads that constitute the fabric of the universe are woven by the shuttle of Desire. He who properly knows transformations of Prakriti, Prakriti herself and Purusha, becomes freed from Desire and attains to Emancipation.[792] The divine Rishi Narayana, that refuge of the universe, for the sake of compassion towards all creatures, clearly promulgated these means for the acquisition of immortality."'" SECTION CCXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "By following what conduct, O thou that art conversant with all courses of conduct, did Janaka, the ruler of Mithila versed in the religion of Emancipation, succeed in attaining to Emancipation, after casting off all worldly enjoyments?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the following old narrative of the particular conduct by which that ruler, thoroughly conversant with all courses of conduct, succeeded in achieving the highest felicity. There was a ruler in Mithila of the name of Janadeva of Janaka's race. He was ever engaged in reflecting upon the courses of conduct that might lead to the attainment of Brahma. A century of preceptors always used to live in his palace, lecturing him upon the diverse courses of duty followed by people who had betaken themselves to diverse modes of life.[793] Given to the study of the Vedas, he was not very well satisfied with the speculations of his instructors on the character of the Soul, and in their doctrines of extinction upon the dissolution of the body or of rebirth after death. Once upon a time a great ascetic of the name of Panchasikha, the son of Kapila, having roamed over the whole world, arrived at Mithila. Endued with correct conclusions in respect of all speculations about the diverse duties connected with renunciation, he was above all pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, happiness and misery), and of doubts he had none. He was regarded as the foremost of Rishis. Dwelling wherever he pleased, he desired to place before the reach of all men eternal felicity that is so difficult of attainment. It seemed that he went about, amazing the world, having assumed the form of none else than that great Rishi, that lord of creatures, whom the followers of the Sankhya doctrine knew by the name of Kapila. He was the foremost of all the disciples of Asuri and was called the undying. He had performed a mental Sacrifice that had lasted for thousand years.[794] He was firm in mind, and had completed all the rites and sacrifices that are enjoined in the scriptures and that lead to the attainment of Brahma. He was fully conversant with the five sheaths that cover the soul.[795] He was devoted to the five acts connected with the adoration of Brahma, and had the five qualities (of tranquillity, self-restraint, etc.). Known (as already said) by the name of Panchasikha, he had approached one day a large concourse of Rishis following the Sankhya doctrines and enquired of them about the highest object of human acquisition, viz., the Unmanifest or that upon which the five Purushas or sheaths (already named) rest.[796] For the sake of obtaining a knowledge of the Soul, Asuri had enquired of his preceptor. In consequence of the latter's instructions and of his own penances, Asuri understood the distinction between the body and the Soul and had acquired celestial vision.[797] In that concourse of ascetics, Asuri made his exposition of the Immutable One, and Indestructible Brahma which is seen in diverse forms. Panchasikha became a disciple of Asuri. He lived on human milk. There was a certain Brahmani of the name of Kapila. She was the wife of Asuri.[798] Panchasikha was accepted by her as a son and he used to suck her breasts. In consequence of this, he came to be known as the son of Kapila and his understanding became fixed on Brahma. All this, about the circumstances of his birth and those that led to his becoming the son of Kapila, was said unto me by the divine Rishi.[799] The latter also told me about the omniscience of Panchasikha. Conversant with all courses of duty, Panchasikha, after having himself acquired high knowledge, (came to Janaka) and knowing that that king had equal reverence for all his preceptors, began to amaze that century of preceptors (by an exposition of his doctrine fraught), with abundant reasons. Observing the talent of Kapileya, Janaka became exceedingly attached to him, and abandoning his hundred preceptors, began to follow him in particular. Then Kapileya began to discourse unto Janaka, who had according to the ordinance bent his head unto him (as a disciple should) and who was fully competent to apprehend the sage's instructions, upon that high religion of Emancipation which is explained in Sankhya treatises. Setting forth in the first place the sorrows of birth, he spoke next of the sorrows of (religious) acts. Having finished that topic he explained the sorrows of all states of life ending even with that in the high region of the Creator.[800] He also discoursed upon that Delusion for whose sake is the practice of religion, and acts, and their fruits, and which is highly untrustworthy, destructible, unsteady, and uncertain.[801] 'Sceptics say that when death (of the body) is seen and is a matter of direct evidence witnessed by all, they who maintain, in consequence of their faith in the scriptures, that something distinct from the body, called the Soul, exists are necessarily vanquished in argument. They also urge that one's death means the extinction of one's Soul, and that sorrow, decrepitude, and disease imply (partial) death of the Soul. He that maintains, owing to error, that the Soul is distinct from the body and exists after the loss of body, cherishes an opinion that is unreasonable.[802] If that be regarded as existent which does not really exist in the world, then it may be mentioned that the king, being regarded so, is really never liable to decrepitude or death. But is he, on that account, to be really believed to be above decrepitude and death?[803] When the question is whether an object exists or does not exist, and when that whose existence is asserted presents all the indications of non-existence, what is that upon which ordinary people rely in settling the affairs of life? Direct evidence is the root of both inference and the scriptures. The scriptures are capable of being contradicted by direct evidence. As to inference, its evidentiary effect is not much. Whatever be the topic, cease to reason on inference alone. There is nothing else called jiva than this body. In a banian seed is contained the capacity to produce leaves and flowers and fruits and roots and bark. From the grass and water that is taken by a cow are produced milk and butter, substances whose nature is different from that of the producing causes. Substances of different kinds when allowed to decompose in water for some time produce spirituous liquors whose nature is quite different from that of those substances that produce them. After the same manner, from the vital seed is produced the body and its attributes, with the understanding, consciousness, mind, and other possessions. Two pieces of wood, rubbed together, produce fire. The stone called Suryakanta, coming in contact with the rays of the Sun, produces fire. Any solid metallic substance, heated in fire, dries up water when coming in contact with it. Similarly, the material body produces the mind and its attributes of perception, memory, imagination, etc. As the loadstone moves iron, similarly, the senses are controlled by the mind.[804] Thus reason the sceptics. The sceptics, however, are in error. For the disappearance (of only the animating force) upon the body becoming lifeless (and not the simultaneous extinction of the body upon the occurrence of that event) is the proof (of the truth that the body is not the Soul but that the Soul is something separate from the body and outlives it certainly. If, indeed, body and Soul had been the same thing, both would have disappeared at the same instant of time. Instead of this, the dead body may be seen for some time _after_ the occurrence of death. Death, therefore, means the flight from the body of something that is different from the body). The supplication of the deities by the very men who deny the separate existence of the Soul is another good argument for the proposition that the Soul is separate from the body or has existence that may be independent of a gross material case. The deities to whom these men pray are incapable of being seen or touched. They are believed to exist in subtile forms. (Really, if a belief in deities divested of gross material forms does no violence to their reason, why should the existence of an immaterial Soul alone do their reason such violence)? Another argument against the sceptic is that his proposition implies a destruction of acts (for if body and Soul die together, the acts also of this life would perish,--a conclusion which no man can possibly come to if he is to explain the inequalities or condition witnessed in the universe).[805] These that have been mentioned, and that have material forms, cannot possibly be the causes (of the immaterial Soul and its immaterial accompaniments of perception, memory, and the like). The identity of immaterial existences with objects that are material cannot be comprehended. (Hence objects that are themselves material cannot by any means be causes for the production of things immaterial).--Some are of opinion that there is rebirth and that it is caused by Ignorance, the desire for acts, cupidity, heedlessness, and adherence to other faults. They say that Ignorance (Avidya) is the soul. Acts constitute the seed that is placed in that soil. Desire is the water that causes that seed to grow, in this way they explain rebirth. They maintain that that ignorance being ingrained in an imperceptible way, one mortal body being destroyed, another starts up immediately from it; and that when it is burnt by the aid of knowledge, the destruction of existence itself follows or the person attains to what is called Nirvana. This opinion also is erroneous. [This is the doctrine of Buddhists]. It may be asked that when the being that is thus reborn is a different one in respect of its nature, birth, and purposes connected with virtue and vice why should I then be regarded to have any identity with the being that was? Indeed, the only inference that can be drawn is that the entire chain of existences of a particular being is not really a chain of connected links (but that existences in succession are unconnected with one another).[806] Then, again if the being that is the result of a rebirth be really different from what it was in a previous phase of existence, it may be asked what satisfaction can arise to a person from the exercise of the virtue of charity, or from the acquisition of knowledge or of ascetic power, since the acts performed by one are to concentrate upon another person in another phase of existence (without the performer himself being existent to enjoy them?) Another result of the doctrine under refutation would be that one in this life may be rendered miserable by the acts of another in a previous life, or having become miserable may again be rendered happy. By seeing, however, what actually takes place in the world, a proper conclusion may be drawn with respect to the unseen.[807] The separate Consciousness that is the result of rebirth is (according to what may be inferred from the Buddhistic theory of life) different from the Consciousness that had preceded it in a previous life. The manner, however, in which the rise or appearance of that separate Consciousness is explained by that theory does not seem to be consistent or reasonable. The Consciousness (as it existed in the previous life) was the very reverse of eternal, being only transitory, extending as it did till dissolution of the body. That which had an end cannot be taken as the cause for the production of a second Consciousness appearing after the occurrence of the end. If, again, the very loss of the previous Consciousness be regarded as the cause of the production of the second Consciousness, then upon the death of a human body being brought about by a heavy bludgeon, a second body would arise from the body that is thus deprived of animation.[808] Once more, their doctrine of extinction of life (or Nirvana or Sattwasankshaya) is exposed to the objection that that extinction will become a recurring phenomenon like that of the seasons, or the year, or the yuga, or heat, or cold, or objects that are agreeable or disagreeable.[809] If for the purpose of avoiding these objections, the followers of this doctrine assert the existence of a Soul that is permanent and unto which each new Consciousness attaches, they expose themselves to the new objection that that permanent substance, by being overcome with decrepitude, and with death that brings about destruction, may in time be itself weakened and destroyed. If the supports of a mansion are weakened by time, the mansion itself is sure to fall down at last.[810] The senses, the mind, wind, blood, flesh, bones (and all the constituents of the body), one after another, meet with destruction and enter each into its own productive cause.[811] If again the existence of an eternal Soul be asserted that is immutable, that is the refuge of the understanding, consciousness, and other attributes of the usual kind, and that is dissociated from all these, such an assertion would be exposed to a serious objection, for then all that is usually done in the world would be unmeaning, especially with reference to the attainment of the fruits of the charity and other religious acts. All the declarations in the Srutis inciting to those acts, and all acts connected with the conduct of men in the world, would be equally unmeaning, for the Soul being dissociated from the understanding and the mind, there is no one to enjoy the fruits of good acts and Vedic rites.[812] Thus diverse kinds of speculations arise in the mind. Whether this opinion is right or that is right, there is no means of settling. Engaged in reflecting on those opinions, particular persons follow particular lines of speculation. The understandings of these, directed to particular theories, become wholly taken up with them and are at last entirely lost in them. Thus all men are rendered miserable by pursuits, good or bad. The Vedas alone, bringing them back to the right path, guide them along it, like grooms conducting their elephants.[813] Many men, with weakened minds, covet objects that are fraught with great happiness. These, however, have soon to meet with a much larger measure of sorrow, and then, forcibly torn from their coveted meat, they have to own the sway of death. What use has one, who is destined to destruction and whose life is unstable, with kinsmen and friends and wives and other possessions of this kind? He who encounters death after having cast off all these, passes easily out of the world and has never to return. Earth, space, water, heat and wind, always support and nourish the body. Reflecting upon this, how can one feel any affection for one's body? Indeed, the body, which is subject to destruction, has no joy in it.' Having heard these words of Panchasikha that were free from deception, unconnected with delusion (because discouraging sacrifices and other Vedic acts), highly salutary, and treating of the Soul, king Janadeva became filled with wonder, and prepared himself to address the Rishi once more."'" SECTION CCXIX "'Bhishma said, "Janadeva of the race of Janaka, thus instructed by the great Rishi Panchasikha, once more asked him about the topic of existence or nonexistence after death. "'"Janadeva said, 'O illustrious one, if no person retains any knowledge after departing from this state of being, if, indeed, this is true, where then is the difference between Ignorance and Knowledge? What do we gain then by knowledge and what do we lose by ignorance? Behold, O foremost of regenerate persons, that if Emancipation be such, then all religious acts and vows end only in annihilation. Of what avail would then the distinction be between heedfulness and heedlessness? If Emancipation means dissociation from all objects of pleasurable enjoyment or an association with objects that are not lasting, for what then would men cherish a desire for action, or, having set themselves to action, continue to devise the necessary means for the accomplishment of desired ends? What then is the truth (in connection with this topic)?'" "'Bhishma continued, "Beholding the king enveloped in thick darkness, stupefied by error, and become helpless, the learned Panchasikha tranquillised him by once more addressing him in the following words, 'In this (Emancipation) the consummation is not Extinction. Nor is that consummation any kind of Existence (that one can readily conceive). This that we see is a union of body, senses, and mind. Existing independently as also controlling one another, these go on acting. The materials that constitute the body are water, space, wind, heat, and earth. These exist together (forming the body) according to their own nature. They disunite again according to their own nature. Space and wind and heat and water and earth,--these five objects in a state of union constitute the body. The body is not one element. Intelligence, stomachic heat, and the vital breaths, called Prana, etc., that are all wind,--these three are said to be organs of action. The senses, the objects of the senses (viz., sound, form, etc.), the power (dwelling in those objects) in consequence of which they become capable of being perceived, the faculties (dwelling in the senses) in consequence of which they succeed in perceiving them, the mind, the vital breaths called Prana, Apana and the rest, and the various juices and humours that are the results of the digestive organs, flow from the three organs already named.[814] Hearing, touch, taste, vision, and scent,--these are the five senses. They have derived their attributes from the mind which, indeed, is their cause. The mind, existing as an attribute of Chit has three states, viz., pleasure, pain, and absence of both pleasure and pain. Sound, touch, form, taste, scent, and the objects to which they inhere,--these till the moment of one's death are causes for the production of one's knowledge. Upon the senses rest all acts (that lead to heaven), as also renunciation (leading to the attainment of Brahma), and also the ascertainment of truth in respect of all topics of enquiry. The learned say that ascertainment (of truth) is the highest object of existence, and that it is the seed or root of Emancipation; and with respect to Intelligence, they say that leads to Emancipation and Brahma.[815] That person who regards this union of perishable attributes (called the body and the objects of the senses) as the Soul, feels, in consequence of such imperfection of knowledge, much misery that proves again to be unending. Those persons, on the other hand, who regard all worldly objects as not-Soul, and who on that account cease to have any affection or attachment for them, have never to suffer any sorrow for sorrow, in their case stands in need of some foundation upon which to rest. In this connection there exists the unrivalled branch of knowledge which treats of Renunciation. It is called Samyagradha. I shall discourse to thee upon it. Listen to it for the sake of thy Emancipation. Renunciation of acts is (laid down) for all persons who strive earnestly for Emancipation. They, however, who have not been taught correctly (and who on that account think that tranquillity may be attained without renunciation) have to bear a heavy burthen of sorrow. Vedic sacrifices and other rites exist for renunciation of wealth and other possessions. For renunciation of all enjoyments exist vows and fasts of diverse kinds. For renunciation of pleasure and happiness, exist penances and yoga. Renunciation, however, of everything, is the highest kind of renunciation. This that I shall presently tell thee is the one path pointed out by the learned for that renunciation of everything. They that betake themselves to that path succeed in driving off all sorrow. They, however, that deviate from it reap distress and misery.[816] First speaking of the five organs of knowledge having the mind for the sixth, and all of which dwell in the understanding, I shall tell thee of the five organs of action having strength for their sixth. The two hands constitute two organs of action. The two legs are the two organs for moving from one place to another. The sexual organ exists for both pleasure and the continuation of the species. The lower duct, leading from the stomach downwards, is the organ for expulsion of all used-up matter. The organs of utterance exist for the expression of sounds. Know that these five organs of action appertain or belong to the mind. These are the eleven organs of knowledge and of action (counting the mind). One should quickly cast off the mind with the understanding.[817] In the act of hearing, three causes must exist together, viz., two ears, sound, and the mind. The same is the case with the perception of touch; the same with that of form; the same with that of taste and smell.[818] These fifteen accidents or attributes are needed for the several kinds of perception indicated. Every man, in consequence of them, becomes conscious of three separate things in respect of those perceptions (viz., a material organ, its particular function, and the mind upon which that function acts). There are again (in respect of all perceptions of the mind) three classes, viz., those that appertain to Goodness, those that appertain to Passion, and those that appertain to Darkness. Into them run three kinds of consciousness, including all feelings and emotions. Raptures, satisfaction, joy, happiness, and tranquillity, arising in the mind from any perceptible cause or in the absence of any apparent cause, belong to the attribute of Goodness. Discontent, regret, grief, cupidity, and vindictiveness, causeless or occasioned by any perceptible cause, are the indications of the attribute known as Passion. Wrong judgment, stupefaction, heedlessness, dreams, and sleepiness, however caused, belong to the attribute of Darkness. Whatever state of consciousness exists, with respect to either the body or the mind, united with joy or satisfaction, should be regarded as due to the quality of Goodness. Whatever state of consciousness exists united with any feeling of discontent or cheerlessness should be regarded as occasioned by an accession of the attribute of Passion into the mind. Whatever state, as regards either the body or the mind, exists with error or heedlessness, should be known as indicative of Darkness which is incomprehensible and inexplicable. The organ of hearing rests on space; it is space itself (under limitations); (Sound has that organ for its refuge). (Sound, therefore, is a modification of space). In perceiving sound, one may not immediately acquire a knowledge of the organ of hearing and of space. But when sound is perceived, the organ of hearing and space do not long remain unknown. (By destroying the ear, sound and space, may be destroyed; and, lastly, by destroying the mind all may be destroyed). The same is the case with the skin, the eyes, the tongue, and the nose constituting the fifth. They exist in touch, form, taste, and smell. They constitute the faculty of perception and they are the mind.[819] Each employed in its own particular function, all the five organs of action and five others of knowledge exist together, and upon the union of the ten dwells the mind as the eleventh and upon the mind the understanding as the twelfth. If it be said that these twelve do not exist together, then the consequence that would result would be death in dreamless slumber. But as there is no death in dreamless slumber, it must be conceded that these twelve exist together as regards themselves but separately from the Soul. The co-existence of those twelve with the Soul that is referred to in common speech is only a common form of speech with the vulgar for ordinary purposes of the world. The dreamer, in consequence of the appearance of past sensual impressions, becomes conscious of his senses in their subtile forms, and endued as he already is with the three attributes (of goodness, passion, and darkness), he regards his senses as existing with their respective objects and, therefore, acts and moves about with an imaginary body after the manner of his own self while awake.[820] That dissociation of the Soul from the understanding and the mind with the senses, which quickly disappears, which has no stability, and which the mind causes to arise only when influenced by darkness, is felicity that partakes, as the learned say, of the nature of darkness and is experienced in this gross body only. (The felicity of Emancipation certainly differs from it).[821] Over the felicity of Emancipation also, the felicity, viz., which is awakened by the inspired teaching of the Vedas and in which no one sees the slightest tincture of sorrow,--the same indescribable and truth concealing darkness seems to spread itself (but in reality the felicity of Emancipation is unstained by darkness).[822] Like again to what occurs in dreamless slumber, in Emancipation also, subjective and objective existences (from Consciousness to objects of the senses, all included), which have their origin in one's acts, are all discarded. In some, that are overwhelmed by Avidya, these exist, firmly grafted with them. Unto others who have transcended Avidya and have won knowledge, they never come at any time.[823] They that are conversant with speculations about the character of Soul and not-Soul, say that this sum total (of the senses, etc.) is body (kshetra). That existent thing which rests upon the mind is called Soul (kshetrajna). When such is the case, and when all creatures, in consequence of the well-known cause (which consists of ignorance, desire, and acts whose beginning cannot be conceived), exist, due also to their primary nature (which is a state of union between Soul and body), (of these two) which then is destructible, and how can that (viz., the Soul), which is said to be eternal, suffer destruction?[824] As small rivers falling into larger ones lose their forms and names, and the larger ones (thus enlarged) rolling into the ocean, lose their forms and names too, after the same manner occurs that form of extinction of life called Emancipation.[825] This being the case, when jiva which is characterised by attributes, is received into the Universal Soul, and when all its attributes disappear, how can it be the object of mention by differentiation? One who is conversant with that understanding which is directed towards the accomplishment of Emancipation and who heedfully seeks to know the Soul, is never soiled by the evil fruits of his acts even as a lotus leaf though dipped in water is never soaked by it. When one becomes freed from the very strong bonds, many in number, occasioned by affection for children and spouses and love for sacrifices and other rites, when one casts off both joy and sorrow and transcends all attachments, one then attains to the highest end and entering into the Universal Soul becomes incapable of differentiation. When one has understood the declarations of the Srutis that lead to correct inferences (about Brahma) and has practised those auspicious virtues which the same and other scriptures inculcate, one may lie down at ease, setting at nought the fears of decrepitude and death. When both merits and sins disappear, and the fruits, in the form of joy and sorrow, arising therefrom, are destroyed, men, unattached to everything, take refuge at first on Brahma invested with personality, and then behold impersonal Brahma in their understandings.[826] Jiva in course of its downward descent under the influence of Avidya lives here (within its cell formed by acts) after the manner of a silk-worm residing within its cell made of threads woven by itself. Like the freed silk-worm again that abandons its cell, jiva also abandons its house generated by its acts. The final result that takes place is that its sorrows are then destroyed like a clump of earth falling with violence upon a rocky mass.[827] As the Ruru casting off its old horns or the snake casting off its slough goes on without attracting any notice, after the same manner a person that is unattached casts off all his sorrows. As a bird deserts a tree that is about to fall down upon a piece of water and thus severing itself from it alights on a (new) resting place, after the same manner the person freed from attachments casts off both joy and sorrow and dissociated even from his subtile and subtiler forms attains to that end which is fraught with the highest prosperity.[828] Their own ancestor Janaka, the chief of Mithila, beholding his city burning in a conflagration, himself proclaimed, "In this conflagration nothing of mine is burning."' King Janadeva, having listened to these words capable of yielding immortality and uttered by Panchasikha, and arriving at the truth after carefully reflecting upon everything that the latter had said, cast off his sorrows and lived on in the enjoyment of great felicity. He who reads this discourse, O king, that treat of emancipation and who always reflects upon it, is never pained by any calamity, and freed from sorrow, attains to emancipation like Janadeva, the ruler of Mithila after his meeting with Panchasikha."'" SECTION CCXX "'Yudhishthira said, "By doing what does one acquire happiness, and what is that by doing which one meets with woe? What also is that, O Bharata, by doing which one becomes freed from fear and sojourns here crowned with success (in respect of the objects of life)?" "'Bhishma said, "The ancients who had their understandings directed to the Srutis, highly applauded the duty of self-restraint for all the orders generally but for the Brahmanas in especial. Success in respect of religious rites never occurs in the case of one that is not self-restrained. Religious rites, penances, truth,--all these are established upon self-restraint. Self-restraint enhances one's energy. Self-restraint is said to be sacred. The man of self-restraint becomes sinless and fearless and wins great results. One that is self-restrained sleeps happily and wakes happily. He sojourns happily in the world and his mind always remains cheerful. Every kind of excitement is quietly controlled by self-restraint. One that is not self-restrained fails in a similar endeavour. The man of self-restraint beholds his innumerable foes (in the form of lust, desire, and wrath, etc.), as if these dwell in a separate body. Like tigers and other carnivorous beasts, persons destitute of self-restraint always inspire all creatures with dread. For controlling these men, the Self-born (Brahman) created kings. In all the (four) modes of life, the practice of self-restraint is distinguished above all other virtues. The fruits of self-restraint are much greater than those obtainable in all the modes of life. I shall now mention to thee the indications of those persons who prize self-restraint highly.[829] They are nobility, calmness of disposition, contentment, faith, forgiveness, invariable simplicity, the absence of garrulity, humility, reverence for superiors, benevolence, compassion for all creatures, frankness, abstention from talk upon kings and men in authority, from all false and useless discourses, and from applause and censure of others. The self-restrained man becomes desirous of emancipation and, quietly bearing present joys and griefs, is never exhilarated or depressed by prospective ones. Destitute of vindictiveness and all kinds of guile, and unmoved by praise and blame, such a man is well-behaved, has good manners, is pure of soul, has firmness or fortitude, and is a complete master of his passions. Receiving honours in this world, such a man in afterlife goes to heaven. Causing all creatures to acquire what they cannot acquire without his aid, such a man rejoices and becomes happy.[830] Devoted to universal benevolence, such a man never cherishes animosity for any one. Tranquil like the ocean at a dead calm, wisdom fills his soul and he is never cheerful. Possessed of intelligence, and deserving of universal reverence, the man of self-restraint never cherishes fear of any creature and is feared by no creature in return. That man who never rejoices even at large acquisitions and never feels sorrow when overtaken by calamity, is said to be possessed of contented wisdom. Such a man is said to be self-restrained. Indeed, such a man is said to be a regenerate being. Versed with the scriptures and endued with a pure soul, the man of self-restraint, accomplishing all those acts that are done by the good, enjoys their high fruits. They, however, that are of wicked soul never betake themselves to the path represented by benevolence, forgiveness, tranquillity, contentment, sweetness of speech, truth, liberality and comfort. Their path consists of lust and wrath and cupidity and envy of others and boastfulness. Subjugating lust and wrath, practising the vow of Brahmacharya and becoming a complete master of his senses, the Brahmana, exerting himself with endurance in the austerest of penances, and observing the most rigid restraints, should live in this world, calmly waiting for his time like one seeming to have a body though fully knowing that he is not subject to destruction."'" SECTION CCXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "The three regenerate classes, who are given to sacrifices and other rites, sometimes eat the remnants, consisting of meat and wine, of sacrifices in honour of the deities, from motives of obtaining children and heaven. What, O grandsire, is the character of this act?" "'Bhishma said, "Those who eat forbidden food without being observant of the sacrifices and vows ordained in the Vedas are regarded as wilful men. (They are regarded as fallen even here). Those, on the other hand, who eat such food in the observance of Vedic sacrifices and vows and induced by the desire of fruits in the shape of heaven and children, ascend to heaven but fall down on the exhaustion of their merits."[831] "'Yudhishthira said, "Common people say that fasting is tapas (penances). Is fasting, however, really so, or is penance something different?" "'Bhishma said, "People do regard fast, measured by months or fortnights or days, as penance. In the opinion, however of the good, such is not penance. On the other hand, fast is an impediment to the acquisition of the knowledge of the Soul.[832] The renunciation of acts (that is so difficult for all) and humility (consisting in the worship of all creatures and consideration for them all) constitute the highest penance. That is distinguished above all kinds of penance. He who betakes himself to such penance is regarded as one that is always fasting and that is always leading a life of Brahmacharya. Such a Brahmana will become a Muni always, a deity evermore, and sleepless forever, and one engaged in the pursuit of virtue only, even if he lives in the bosom of a family. He will become a vegetarian always, and pure for ever. He will become an eater always of ambrosia, and an adorer always of gods and guests. Indeed, he will be regarded as one always subsisting on sacrificial remnants, as one ever devoted to the duty of hospitality, as one always full of faith, and as one ever worshipping gods and guests." "'Yudhishthira said, "How can one practising such penance come to be regarded as one that is always fasting or as one that is ever devoted to the vow of Brahmacharya, or as one that is always subsisting upon sacrificial remnants or as one that is ever regardful of guests?" "'Bhishma said, "He will be regarded as one that is always fasting if he eats once during the day and once during the night at the fixed hours without eating anything during the interval. Such a Brahmana, by always speaking the truth and by adhering always to wisdom, and by going to his wife only in her season and never at other times, becomes a Brahmacharin (celibate). By never eating meat of animals not killed for sacrifice, he will become a strict vegetarian. By always becoming charitable he will become ever pure, and by abstaining from sleep during the day he will become one that is always wakeful. Know, O Yudhishthira, that that man who eats only after having fed his servants and guests becomes an eater always of ambrosia. That Brahmana who never eats till gods and guests are fed, wins, by such abstention, heaven itself. He is said to subsist upon sacrificial remnants, who eats only what remains after feeding the gods, the Pitris, servants, and guests. Such men win numberless regions of felicity in next life. To their homes come, with Brahman himself, the gods and the Apsaras. They who share their food with the deities and the Pitris pass their days in constant happiness with their sons and grandsons and at last, leaving off this body, attain to a very high end."'" SECTION CCXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "In this world, O Bharata, acts good and bad attach themselves to man for the purpose of producing fruits for enjoyment or endurance. Is man, however, to be regarded as their doer or is he not to be regarded so? Doubt fills my mind with respect to this question. I desire to hear this in detail from thee, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O Yudhishthira, is cited the old narrative of a discourse between Prahlada and Indra. The chief of the Daityas, viz., Prahlada, was unattached to all worldly objects. His sins had been washed away. Of respectable parentage, he was possessed of great learning. Free from stupefaction and pride, ever observant of the quality of goodness, and devoted to various vows, he took praise and censure equally. Possessed of self-restraint, he was then passing his time in an empty chamber. Conversant with the origin and the destruction of all created objects, mobile and immobile, he was never angry with things that displeased him and never rejoiced at the accession of objects that were agreeable. He cast an equal eye upon gold and a clump of earth. Steadily engaged in study of the Soul and in acquiring Emancipation, and firm in knowledge, he had arrived at fixed conclusions in respect of truth. Acquainted with what is supreme and what is not so among all things, omniscient and of universal sight, as he was seated one day in a solitary chamber with his senses under complete control, Sakra approached him, and desirous of awakening him, said these words, 'O king, I behold all those qualities permanently residing in thee by which a person wins the esteem of all. Thy understanding seems to be like that of a child, free from attachment and aversion. Thou knowest of the Soul. What, thinkest thou, is the best means by which a knowledge of the Soul may be attained? Thou art now bound in cords, fallen off from thy former position, brought under the sway of thy foes, and divested of prosperity. Thy present circumstances are such as may well inspire grief. Yet how is it, O Prahlada, that thou dost not indulge in grief? Is this due, O son of Diti, to the acquisition of wisdom or is it on account of thy fortitude? Behold thy calamities, O Prahlada, and yet thou seemest like one that is happy and tranquil.' Thus urged by Indra, the chief of the Daityas, endued with determinate conclusions in respect of truth, replied unto the former in these sweet words indicative of great wisdom. "'"Prahlada said, 'He who is unacquainted with the origin and the destruction of all created objects, is, in consequence of such ignorance, stupefied. He, however, who is conversant with these two things, is never stupefied. All kinds of entities and non-entities come into being or cease in consequence of their own nature. No kind of personal exertion is needed (for the production of such phenomena).[833] In the absence, therefore, of personal exertion, it is evident that no personal agent exists for the production of all this that we perceive. But though (in reality) the person (or the chit) never does anything, yet (through the influence of Ignorance) a consciousness in respect of angry overspreads itself on it. He who regards himself as the doer of acts good or bad, possesses a wisdom that is vitiated. Such a person is, according to my judgment, unacquainted with the truth.[834] If, O Sakra, the being called person were really the actor, then all acts undertaken for his own benefit would certainly be crowned with success. None of those acts would be defeated. Among even persons struggling their utmost the suspension of what is not desired and the occurrence of what is desired are not to be seen. What becomes then of personal exertion? In the case of some, we see that without any exertion on their part, what is not desired is suspended and what is desired is accomplished. This then must be the result of Nature. Some persons again are seen to present extraordinary aspects, for though possessed of superior intelligence they have to solicit wealth from others that are vulgar in features and endued with little intelligence. Indeed, when all qualities, good or bad, enter a person, urged by Nature, what ground is there for one to boast (of one's superior possessions)? All these flow from Nature. This is my settled conclusion. Even Emancipation and knowledge of self, according to me, flow from the same source. "''"In this world all fruits, good or bad, that attach themselves to persons, are regarded as the result of acts. I shall now discourse to thee in full on the subject of acts. Listen to me. As a crow, while eating some food, proclaims the presence of that food (to the members of its species) by its repeated cawing, after the same manner all our acts only proclaim the indications of Nature. He who is acquainted with only the transformations of Nature but not with Nature that is supreme and exists by herself, feels stupefaction in consequence of his ignorance. He, however, who understands the difference between Nature and her transformations is never stupefied. All existent things have their origin in Nature. In consequence of one's certainty of conviction in this respect, one would never be affected by pride or arrogance. When I know what the origin is of all the ordinances of morality and when I am acquainted with the unstability of all objects, I am incapable, O Sakra, of indulging in grief. All this is endued with an end. Without attachments, without pride, without desire and hope, freed from all bonds, and dissociated from everything, I am passing my time in great happiness, engaged in beholding the appearance and disappearance of all created objects. For one that is possessed of wisdom, that is self-restrained, that is contented, that is without desire and hope, and that beholds all things with the light of self-knowledge, no trouble or anxiety exists, O Sakra! I have no affection or aversion for either Nature or her transformations. I do not behold any one now who is my foe nor any one who is mine own. I do not O, Sakra, at any time covet either heaven, or this world, or the nether regions. It is not the case that there is no happiness in understanding the Soul. But the Soul, being dissociated from everything, cannot enjoy felicity. Hence I desire nothing.' "'"Sakra said, 'Tell me the means, O Prahlada, by which this kind of wisdom may be attained and by which this kind of tranquillity may be made one's own. I solicit thee.' "'"Prahlada said, 'By simplicity, by heedfulness, by cleansing the Soul, by mastering the passions, and by waiting upon aged seniors, O Sakra, a person succeeds in attaining to Emancipation. Know this, however, that one acquires wisdom from Nature, and that the acquisition of tranquillity also is due to the same cause. Indeed, everything else that thou perceivest is due to Nature.'" "'"Thus addressed by the lord of the Daityas, Sakra became filled with wonder, and commended those words, O king, with a cheerful heart. The lord of the three worlds then, having worshipped the lord of the Daityas, took his leave and proceeded to his own abode."'" SECTION CCXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, by adopting what sort of intelligence may a monarch, who has been divested of prosperity and crushed by Time's heavy bludgeon, still live on this earth." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Vasava and Virochana's son, Vali. One day Vasava, after having subjugated all the Asuras, repaired to the Grandsire and joining his hands bowed to him and enquired after the whereabouts of Vali. Tell me, O Brahman, where I may now find that Vali whose wealth continued undiminished even though he used to give it away as lavishly as he wished. He was the god of wind. He was Varuna. He was Surya. He was Soma. He was Agni that used to warm all creatures. He became water (for the use of all). I do not find where he now is. Indeed, O Brahman, tell me where I may find Vali now. Formerly, it was he who used to illumine all the points of the compass (as Surya) and to set (when evening came). Casting off idleness, it was he who used to pour rain upon all creatures at the proper season. I do not now see that Vali. Indeed, tell me, O Brahmana, where I may find that chief of the Asuras now. "'"Brahman said, 'It is not becoming in thee, O Maghavat, to thus enquire after Vali now. One should not, however, speak an untruth when one is questioned by another. For this reason, I shall tell thee the whereabouts of Vali. O lord of Sachi, Vali may now have taken his birth among camels or bulls or asses or horses, and having become the foremost of his species may now be staying in an empty apartment.' "'"Sakra said, 'If, O Brahman, I happen to meet with Vali in an empty apartment, shall I slay him or spare him? Tell me how I shall act.' "'"Brahman said, 'Do not, O Sakra, injure Vali, Vali does not deserve death. Thou shouldst, on the other hand, O Vasava, solicit instruction from him about morality, O Sakra, as thou pleasest.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the divine Creator, Indra roamed over the earth, seated on the back of Airavata and attended by circumstances of great splendour. He succeeded in meeting with Vali, who, as the Creator had said, was living in an empty apartment clothed in the form of an ass. "'"Sakra said, 'Thou art now, O Danava, born as an ass subsisting on chaff as thy food. This thy order of birth is certainly a low one. Dost thou or dost thou not grieve for it? I see what I had never seen before, viz., thyself brought under the sway of thy enemies, divested of prosperity and friends, and shorn of energy and prowess. Formerly, thou used to make progress through the worlds with thy train consisting of thousands of vehicles and thousands of kinsmen, and to move along, scorching everybody with thy splendour and counting us as nought. The Daityas, looking up to thee as their protector, lived under thy sway. Through thy power, the earth used to yield crops without waiting for tillage. Today, however, I behold thee overtaken by this dire calamity. Dost thou or dost thou not indulge in grief for this? When formerly thou usedst, with pride reflected in thy face, to divide on the eastern shores of the ocean thy vast wealth among thy kinsmen, what was the state of thy mind then? Formerly, for many years, when blazing with splendour, thou usedst to sport, thousands of celestial damsels used to dance before thee. All of them were adorned with garlands of lotuses and all had companions bright as gold. What, O lord of Danavas, was the state of thy mind then and what is it now? Thou hadst a very large umbrella made of gold and adorned with jewels and gems. Full two and forty thousand Gandharvas used in those days to dance before thee.[835] In thy sacrifices thou hadst a stake that was very large and made entirely of gold. On such occasions thou wert to give away millions upon millions of kine. What, O Daitya, was the state of thy mind then? Formerly, engaged in sacrifice, thou hadst gone round the whole earth, following the rule of the hurling of the Samya: What was the state of thy mind then?[836] I do not now behold that golden jar of thine, nor that umbrella of thine, nor those fans. I behold not also, O king of the Asuras, that garland of thine which was given to thee by the Grandsire.' "'"Vali said, 'Thou seest not now, O Vasava, my jar and umbrella and fans. Thou seest not also my garland, that gift of the Grandsire. Those precious possessions of mine about which thou askest are now buried in the darkness of a cave. When my time comes again, thou wilt surely behold them again. This conduct of thine, however, does not become thy fame or birth. Thyself in prosperity, thou desirest to mock me that am sunk in adversity. They that have acquired wisdom, and have won contentment therefrom, they that are of tranquil souls, that are virtuous and good among creatures, never grieve in misery nor rejoice in happiness. Led, however, by a vulgar intelligence, thou indulgest in brag, O Purandara! When thou shalt become like me thou shalt not then indulge in speeches like these.'"'" SECTION CCXXIV "'Bhishma said, "Once more, laughing at Vali who was sighing like a snake, Sakra addressed him for saying something more pointed than what had said before.[837] "'"Sakra said, 'Formerly, attended by a train consisting of thousands of vehicles and kinsmen, thou usedst to make thy progresses, scorching all the worlds with thy splendour and regarding us as nought. Thou art now, however, deserted by both kinsmen and friends. Beholding this miserable plight that has overtaken thee, dost thou or dost thou not indulge in grief? Formerly, all the worlds were under thy sway and great was thy joy. I ask, dost thou or dost thou not indulge in grief now, for this fall of thine in respect of external splendour?' "'"Vali said, 'Considering all this to be transitory,--due, indeed, to the course of time,--I do not, O Sakra, indulge in grief. These things have an end. These bodies that creatures have, O chief of celestials, are all transitory. For that reason, O Sakra, I do not grieve (for this asinine form of mine). Nor is this form due to any fault of mine. The animating principle and the body come into existence together, in consequence of their own nature. They grow together, and meet with destruction together. Having obtained this form of existence I have not been permanently enslaved by it. Since I know this, I have no cause for sorrow in consequence of that knowledge. As the final resting-place of all rivers is the ocean, even so the end of all embodied creatures is death. Those persons that know this well are never stupefied, O wielder of the thunderbolt! They, however, who are overwhelmed with Passion and loss of judgment, do not know this, they whose understanding is lost, sink under the weight of misfortune. A person who acquires a keen understanding succeeds in destroying all his sins. A sinless person acquires the attribute of Goodness, and having acquired it becomes cheerful. They, however, that deviate from the attribute of Goodness, and obtain repeated rebirths, are obliged to indulge in sorrow and grief, led on by desire and the objects of the senses. Success or the reverse, in respect of the attainment of all objects of desire, life or death, the fruits of action that are represented by pleasure or pain, I neither dislike nor like. When one slays another, one slays only that other's body. That man, who thinks that it is he who slays another, is himself slain. Indeed, both of them are ignorant of the truth, viz., he who slays and he who is slain.[838] That person, O Maghavat, who having killed or vanquished any one brags of his manliness, should know that he is not the actor but the act (of which he boasts) has been accomplished by a real agent (who is different). When the question comes as to who is it that causes the creation and the destruction of things in the world, it is generally regarded that some person (who has himself been caused or created) has caused the act (of creation or destruction). Know, however, that the person who is so regarded has (as already said) a creator. Earth, light or heat, space, water, and wind constituting the fifth--from these do all creatures spring. (When this is known to me) what sorrow can I feel (for this change in my condition)? One that is possessed of great learning, one that has not much of learning, one that is possessed of strength, one that is destitute of strength, one that is possessed of personal beauty, and one that is very ugly, one that is fortunate and one that is not blessed by fortune, are all swept away by Time, which is too deep to be fathomed, by its own energy. When I know that I have been vanquished by Time, what sorrow can I feel (for this alteration in my circumstances)? One that burns anything burns a thing that has been already burnt. One that slays, only slays a victim already slain. One that is destroyed has been before destroyed. A thing that is acquired by a person is that which is already arrived and intended for his acquisition. This Time is like an ocean. There is no island in it. Where, indeed, is its other shore? Its boundary cannot be seen. Reflecting even deeply, I do not behold the end of this continuous stream that is the great ordainer of all things and that is certainly celestial. If I did not understand that it is Time that destroys all creatures, then, perhaps, I would have felt the emotions of joy and pride and wrath, O lord of Sachi! Hast thou come here to condemn me, having ascertained that I am now bearing the form of an ass that subsists upon chaff and that is now passing his days in a lonely spot remote from the habitations of men? If I wish, even now I can assume various awful forms beholding any one of which thou wouldst beat a hasty retreat from my presence. It is Time that gives everything and again takes away everything. It is Time that ordains all things. Do not, O Sakra, brag of thy manliness. Formerly, O Purandara, on occasions of my wrath everything used to become agitated. I am acquainted, however, O Sakra, with the eternal attributes of all things in the world. Do thou also know the truth. Do not suffer thyself to be filled with wonder. Affluence and its origin are not under one's control. Thy mind seems to be like that of a child. It is the same as it was before. Open thy eyes, O Maghavat, and adopt an understanding established on certitude and truth. The gods, men, the Pitris, the Gandharvas, the snakes, and the Rakshasas, were all under my sway in days gone by. Thou knowest this, O Vasava! Their understandings stupefied by ignorance, all creatures used to flatter me, saying, "Salutations to that point of the compass whither Virochana's son Vali may now be staying!" O lord of Sachi, I do not at all grieve when I think of that honour (which is no longer paid to me). I feel no sorrow for this fall of mine. My understanding is firm in this respect, viz., that I will live obedient to the sway of the Ordainer. It is seen that some one of noble birth, possessed of handsome features, and endued with great prowess, lives in misery, with all his counsellors and friends. This happens because of its having been ordained.[839] Similarly, some one born in an ignoble race, devoid of knowledge, and with even a stain on his birth, is seen, O Sakra, to live in happiness with all his counsellors and friends. "'"This also happens because of its having been ordained. An auspicious and beautiful woman, O Sakra, is seen to pass her life in misery. Similarly, an ugly woman with every inauspicious mark is seen to pass her days in great happiness. That we have now become so is not due to any act of ours, O Sakra! That thou art now so is not due, O wielder of the thunderbolt, to any act of thine. Thou hast not done anything, O thou of hundred sacrifices, in consequence of which thou art now enjoying this affluence. Nor have I done anything in consequence of which I have now been divested of affluence. Affluence and its reverse come one after another. I now behold thee blazing with splendour, endued with prosperity, possessed of beauty, placed at the head of all the deities, and thus roaring at me. This would never be but for the fact of Time standing near after having assailed me. Indeed, if Time had not assailed me I would have today killed thee with only a blow of my fists notwithstanding the fact of thy being armed with the thunder. This, however, is not the time for putting forth my prowess. On the other hand, the time that has come is for adopting a behaviour of peace and tranquillity. It is Time that establishes all things. Time works upon all things and leads them to their final consummation.[840] I was the worshipped lord of the Danavas. Burning all with my energy, I used to roar in strength and pride. When Time hath assailed even myself, who is there whom he will not assail? Formerly, O chief of the deities, singly I bore the energy of all the twelve illustrious Adityas with thyself amongst them. It was I that used to bear up water and then to shower it as rain, O Vasava! It was I that used to give both light and heat unto the three worlds. It was I that used to protect and it was I that used to destroy. It was I that gave and it was I that took. It was I that used to bind and it was I that used to unbind. In all the worlds I was the one puissant master. That sovereign sway which I had, O chief of the celestials, is no more. I am now assailed by the forces of Time. Those things, therefore, are no longer seen to shine in me. I am not the doer (of acts that are apparently done by me). Thou art not the doer (of acts done by thee). None else, O lord of Sachi, is the doer (of those acts). It is Time, O Sakra, that protects or destroys all things.[841] Persons conversant with the Vedas say that Time (Eternity) is Brahma. The fortnights and months are his body. That body is invested with days and nights as its robes. The seasons are his senses. The year is his mouth. Some people, in consequence of their superior intelligence, say that all this (the entire universe) should be conceived as Brahma. The Vedas, however, teach, that the five sheaths that invest the Soul should be regarded as Brahma. Brahma is deep and inaccessible like a vast ocean of waters. It hath been said that it hath neither beginning nor end, and that it is both indestructible and destructible.[842] Though it is without attributes by itself, yet it enters all existent objects and as such assumes attributes. Those persons that are conversant with truth regard Brahma as eternal. Through the action of Ignorance, Brahma causes the attributes of materiality to invest the Chit or Soul which is immaterial spirit (having knowledge only for its attribute). That materiality, however, is not the essential attribute of the Soul, for upon the appearance of a knowledge of the true cause of everything, that materiality ceases to invest the Soul.[843] Brahma in the form of Time is the refuge of all creatures. Where wouldst thou go transcending that Time? Time or Brahma, indeed, cannot be avoided by running nor by staying still. All the five senses are incapable of perceiving Brahma. Some have said that Brahma is Fire; some that he is Prajapati; some that he is the Seasons; some that he is the Month; some that he is the Fortnight; some that he is the Days; some that he is the Hours; some that he is the Morning; some that he is the Noon; some that he is the Evening; and some that he is the Moment. Thus diverse people speak diversely of him who is single. Know that he is Eternity, under whose sway are all things. Many thousands of Indras have passed away, O Vasava, each of whom was possessed of great strength and prowess. Thou also, O lord of Sachi, shalt have to pass away after the same manner. Thee, too, O Sakra, that art possessed of swelling might and that art the chief of the deities, when thy hour comes, all-powerful Time will extinguish! Time sweeps away all things. For this reason, O Indra, do not brag. Time is incapable of being quieted by either thee or me or by those gone before us. This regal prosperity that thou hast attained and that thou thinkest to be beyond comparison, had formerly been possessed by me. It is unsubstantial and unreal. She does not dwell long in one place. Indeed, she had dwelt in thousands of Indras before thee, all of whom, again, were very much superior to thee. Unstable as she is, deserting me she hath now approached thee, O chief of the deities! Do not, O Sakra, indulge in such brag again. It behoveth thee to become tranquil. Knowing thee to be full of vanity, she will very soon desert thee.'"'" SECTION CCXXV "'Bhishma said, "After this, he of hundred sacrifices beheld the goddess of Prosperity, in her own embodied form that blazed splendour, issue out of the form of the high-souled Vali. The illustrious chastiser of Paka, beholding the goddess blazing with radiance, addressed Vali in these words, with eyes expanded in wonder. "'"Sakra said, 'O Vali, who is this one, thus shining with splendour, thus decked with head plumes, thus adorned with golden bracelets on her upper arms, and thus emitting a halo of glory on all sides in consequence of her energy that is issuing out of thy body.' "'"Vali said, 'I do not know whether she is an Asura damsel or a celestial one or a human one. Thou mayst not ask her thyself. Do what pleases thee.' "'"Sakra said, 'O thou of sweet smiles, who art thou that art possessed of such radiance and adorned with plumes that thus issuest from the body of Vali? I do not know thee. Kindly tell me thy name. Who, indeed, art thou that thus standest here as Maya herself, blazing with thy own splendour, after having deserted the lord of the Daityas? O, tell me this as I question thee.' "'"Sree said, 'Virochana did not know me. This Vali also that is the son of Virochana knows me not. The learned called me by the name of Duhshaha.[844] Some knew me by the name of Vidhitsa.[845] I have other names also, O Vasava! They are Bhuti, Lakshmi, and Sree.[846] Thou knowest me not, O Sakra, nor doth any one among the deities know me.' "'"Sakra said, 'O lady that is difficult of being borne, why do you desert Vali now after having lived in him for a long time? Is it due to any act of mine or is it due to any act that Vali has done?' "'"Sree said, 'Neither the Creator nor the Ordainer rules me. It is Time that moves me from one place to another. Do not, O Sakra, disregard Vali.' "'"Sakra said, 'For what reason, O goddess adorned with plumes, do you desert Vali? Why also do you approach me (for living in me)? Tell me this, O thou of sweet smiles!' "'"Sree said, 'I live in truth, in gifts, in good vows, in penances, in prowess, and in virtue. Vali hath fallen off from all these. Formerly, he was devoted to the Brahmanas. He was truthful and had controlled his passions. Latterly, however, he began to cherish feelings of animosity towards the Brahmanas and touched clarified butter with soiled hands.[847] Formerly, he was always engaged in the performance of sacrifices. At last, blinded by ignorance and afflicted by Time he began to boast before all persons, saying that his adorations towards me were ceaseless. Deserting him (for these faults) I shall henceforth, O Sakra, dwell in thee. Thou shouldst bear me without heedlessness, and with penances and prowess.' "'"Sakra said, 'O thou that dwellest amid lotuses, there is not a single person among gods, men, and all creatures, that can bear thee for ever.' "'"Sree said, 'Truly, O Purandara, there is none among gods, Gandharvas, Asuras, or Rakshasas, that can bear me for ever.' "'"Sakra said, 'O auspicious lady, tell me how I should conduct myself so that thou mayst dwell in me always. I shall certainly obey thy behests. It behoveth thee to answer me truly.' "'"Sree said, 'O chief of the deities, I shall tell thee as to how I may be enabled to dwell in thee always. Divide me into four parts according to the ordinance laid down in the Vedas.' "'"Sakra said, 'I shall assign the habitations according to their strength and power in bearing thee. As regards myself, I shall always take care, O Lakshmi, that I may not offend thee in any way. Amongst men, the earth, that progenitrix of all things, bear them all. She shall bear a fourth part of thyself. I think she hath the strength to do it.' "'"Sree said, 'Here, I yield up a quarter of myself. Let it be established on the earth. Do thou, after this, make a proper disposition, O Sakra, for my second quarter.' "'"Sakra said, 'The waters, among men, in their liquid form, do various services to human beings. Let the waters bear a fourth part of thy person. They have the strength to bear a portion of thine.' "'"Sree said, 'I yield up another quarter of mine that is to be established in the waters. Do thou, after this, O Sakra, assign a proper place for my third quarter.' "'"Sakra said, 'The Vedas, the sacrifices, and the deities are all established in Fire. Fire will bear thy third quarter, when it is placed therein.' "'"Sree said, 'Here I yield up my third quarter which is to be placed in Fire. Do thou, O Sakra, after this, assign a proper place for my last quarter.' "'"Sakra said, 'They that are good among men, devoted to Brahmanas, and truthful in speech, may bear thy fourth quarter. The good have the power to bear it.' "'"Sree said, 'Here I yield up my fourth quarter that is to be placed among the good. My portions thus assigned to different creatures, do thou continue to protect me, O Sakra.' "'"Sakra said, 'Listen to these words of mine. I have thus distributed thee among different creatures. Those among creatures that will offend against thee shall be chastised by me.' The chief of the Daityas, viz., Vali, thus deserted by Sree, then said these words. "'"Vali said, 'At present the Sun shines as much in the east as in the west, and as much in the north as in the south. When, however, the Sun, withdrawing himself from all sides, will shine only upon the region of Brahman situated in the middle of Sumeru, then will again occur a great battle between the gods and the Asuras, and in that fight I shall certainly vanquish all of you. When the Sun, withdrawing himself from all sides, will shine fixedly upon only the region of Brahman, then will again occur a great battle between the gods and the Asuras, and in that fight I shall surely conquer all of you.'[848] "'"Sakra said, 'Brahman hath commanded me saying that I should never kill thee. It is for this reason, O Vali, that I do not hurl my thunderbolt upon thy head. Go whithersoever thou wishest, O chief of the Daityas! O great Asura, peace to thee! No time will come when the Sun will shine from only the meridian. The Self-born (Brahman) hath before this ordained the laws that regulate the Sun's motions. Giving light and heat to all creatures, he goes on ceaselessly. For six months he travels in a northward course and then for the other six in a southward course. The sun travels by these courses (one after another), creating winter and summer for all creatures.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Indra, O Bharata, Vali, the chief of the Daityas, proceeded towards the south. Purandara proceeded towards the north. The thousand-eyed Indra, after having listened to this speech of Vali which was characterised by an entire absence of pride, then ascended the skies."'" SECTION CCXXVI "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is also cited the old narrative of the discourse between him of a hundred sacrifices and the Asura Namuchi, O Yudhishthira. When the Asura Namuchi, who was conversant with the birth and the death of all creatures, was sitting, divested of prosperity but untroubled at heart like the vast ocean in perfect stillness, Purandara addressed him these words, 'Fallen off from thy place, bound with cords, brought under the sway of thy foes, and divested of prosperity, dost thou, O Namuchi, indulge in grief or passest thou thy days cheerfully?' "'"Namuchi answered, 'By indulging in such sorrow as cannot be warded off one only wastes one's body and gladdens one's foes. Then, again, no one can lighten another's sorrow by taking any portion of it upon oneself. For these reasons, O Sakra, I do not indulge in sorrow. All this that thou seest hath one end.[849] Indulgence in sorrow destroys personal comeliness, prosperity, life, and virtue itself, O chief of the deities! Without doubt, suppressing that sorrow which comes upon oneself and which is born of an improper disposition of the mind, one possessed of true knowledge should reflect in one's mind of that which is productive of the highest good and which dwells in the heart itself.[850] When one sets one's mind upon what is for one's highest good, without doubt, the result that takes place is that one's objects are all accomplished.[851] There is One Ordainer, and no second. His control extends over the being that lies within the womb. Controlled by the great Ordainer I go on as He sets me on, like water running along a downward path. Knowing what is existence and what is emancipation, and understanding also that the latter is superior to the former, I do not, however, strive for attaining to it. Doing acts that tend towards the direction of virtue and also those that tend towards the opposite direction, I go on as He sets me on. One gets those things that are ordained to be got. That which is to happen actually happens. One has repeatedly to reside in such wombs in which one is placed by the Ordainer. One has no choice in the matter. That person is never stupefied, who when placed in any particular condition, accepts it as that which he was ordained to be placed in. Men are affected by pleasure and pain that come by turns in course of Time. There is no personal agency (in the matter of pleasure or pain to any one). In this lies sorrow, viz., that he that dislikes sorrow regards himself as the actor.[852] Amongst Rishis, gods, great Asuras, persons fully conversant with the three Vedas, and ascetics in the forest, who is there whom calamities do not approach? Those, however, that are conversant with the Soul and that which is not-Soul never fear calamities. The person of wisdom, naturally standing immovable like Himavat, never gives way to wrath; never suffers himself to be attached to the objects of the senses; never languishes in sorrow or rejoices in happiness. When overwhelmed with even great afflictions, such a person never gives way to grief. That person is a very superior one whom even great success cannot gladden and even dire calamities cannot afflict, and who bears pleasure and pain, and that which is between them both, with an unmoved heart. Into whatever condition a person may fall, he should summon cheerfulness without yielding to sorrow. Indeed, even thus should one drive off from one's self one's swelling grief that is born in one's mind and that is (if not dispelled) sure to give pain. That assembly of learned persons engaged in the discussion of duties based upon both the Srutis and the Smritis is not a good assembly,--indeed, that does not deserve to be called by the name of assembly,--entering which a wicked man does not become penetrated with fear (born of his wicked deeds). That man is the foremost of his species who having dived into and enquired after righteousness succeeds in acting according to the conclusions to which he arrives.[853] The acts of a wise man are not easily comprehensible. He that is wise, is never stupefied when afflictions come upon him. Even if he falls away from his position like Gautama in his old age, in consequence of the direct calamity, he does not suffer himself to be stupefied.[854] By any of these, viz., mantras, strength, energy, wisdom, prowess, behaviour, conduct, or the affluence of wealth, can a person acquire that which has not been ordained to be acquired by him? What sorrow then is there for the non-acquisition of that upon which one has set one's heart? Before I was born, they that have the matter in their hands had ordained what I am to do and suffer. I am fulfilling what was thus ordained for me. What then can death do to me? One obtains only that which has been ordained to be obtained. One goes thither whither it was ordained that one is to go. Those sorrows and joys are obtained that are ordained to be obtained. That man who knowing this fully, does not suffer himself to be stupefied, and who is contented under both happiness and sorrow, is regarded as the foremost of his species.'"'" SECTION CCXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "What, indeed, is good for a man that is sunk in dire distress, when loss of friends or loss of kingdom, O monarch has occurred? In this world, O bull of Bharata's race, thou art the foremost of our instructors. I ask thee this. It behoveth thee to tell me what I ask." "'Bhishma said, "For one that has been deprived of sons and wives and pleasures of every kind and wealth, and that has been plunged into dire distress, fortitude is of the highest good, O king! The body is never emaciated of one that is always possessed of fortitude. Grieflessness bears happiness within it, and also health that is a superior possession. In consequence again of this health of body, once may again acquire prosperity. That wise man, O sire, who adheres to a course of righteous conduct (while afflicted by distress) succeeds in acquiring prosperity, patience, and perseverance in the accomplishment of all his objects. In this connection is once more cited the old narrative of the discourse between Vali and Vasava, O Yudhishthira! After the battle between the gods and the Asuras, in which a large number of Daityas and Danavas fell, had come to an end, Vali became king. He was deceived by Vishnu who once more established his sway over all the worlds. He of a hundred sacrifices was once more invested with the sovereignty of the deities. After the rule of the deities had thus been re-established, and the four orders of men had been re-established in the practice of their respective courses of duty, the three worlds once more swelled with prosperity, and the Self-born became glad at heart. At that time, accompanied by the Rudras, the Vasus, the Adityas, the Aswins, the celestial Rishis, the Gandharvas, the Siddhas, and other superior orders of beings, the puissant Sakra, seated in splendour on his four-tusked prince of elephants, called Airavata, made a progress through all the worlds. One day, while thus engaged, the wielder of the thunderbolt beheld Virochana's son Vali within a certain mountain cave on the sea-shore. Seeing the prince of Danavas, he approached him. Beholding the chief of the deities, viz., Indra, thus seated on the back of Airavata and surrounded by the several orders of the celestials, the prince of the Daityas showed no signs of sorrow or agitation. Indra also, seeing Vali staying unmoved and fearless, addressed him from the back of his foremost of elephants, saying, 'How is it, O Daitya, that thou art so unmoved? Is it due to thy heroism or thy having waited with reverence upon aged persons? Is it due to thy mind having been cleansed by penances? To whatever cause it may be due, this frame of mind is certainly very difficult of attainment. Hurled from a position that was certainly the highest, thou art now divested of all thy possessions, and thou hast been brought under the sway of thy foes. O son of Virochana, what is that by having recourse to which thou dost not grieve although the occasion is for grief? Formerly, when thou wert invested with the sovereignty of thy own order, unrivalled pleasures were thine. Now, however, thou art divested of thy wealth and jewels and sovereignty. Tell us why thou art so unmoved. Thou wert before this a god, seated on the throne of thy sire and grandsires. Beholding thyself stripped today by thy foes, why dost thou not grieve? Thou art bound in Varuna's noose and hast been struck with my thunderbolt. Thy wives have been taken away and thy wealth also. Tell us why thou dost not indulge in grief. Divested of prosperity and fallen away from affluence, thou indulgest not in grief. This, indeed, is something that is very remarkable. Who else, O Vali, than one like thee, could venture to bear the burthen of existence after being shorn of the sovereignty of the three worlds?' Hearing without any pain these and other cutting speeches that Indra addressed to him, asserting the while his own superiority over him, Vali, the son of Virochana, fearlessly answered his interrogator, saying the following words. "'"Vali said, 'When calamities have oppressed me, O Sakra, what dost thou gain by such brag now? Today I behold thee, O Purandara, stand before me with the thunderbolt upraised in thy hand! Formerly, however, thou couldst not bear thyself so. Now thou hast by some means gained that power. Indeed, who else than thou could utter such cruel speeches? That person who, though able to punish, shows compassion towards a heroic foe vanquished and brought under his sway, is truly a very superior individual. When two persons fight, victory in the battle is certainly dubious. One of the two certainly becomes victorious, and the other becomes vanquished. O chief of the deities, let not thy disposition be such! Do not imagine that thou hast become the sovereign of all creatures after having conquered all with thy might and prowess! That we have become so is not, O Sakra, the result of any act of ours.[855] That thou hast become so, O wielder of the thunderbolt, is not the result of any act of thine. What I am now thou wilt be in the future. Do not disregard me, thinking that thou hast done an exceedingly difficult feat. A person obtains happiness and misery one after another in course of Time. Thou hast, O Sakra, obtained the sovereignty of the universe in course of Time but not in consequence of any especial merit in thee. It is Time that leads me on in his course. That same Time leads thee also onward. It is for this that I am not what thou art today, and thou also art not what we are! Dutiful services done to parents, reverential worship of deities, due practice of any good quality,--none of these can bestow happiness on any one. Neither knowledge, nor penances, nor gifts, nor friends, nor kinsmen can rescue one that is afflicted by Time. Men are incapable of averting, by even a thousand means, an impending calamity. Intelligence and strength go for nothing in such cases. There is no rescuer of men that are afflicted by Time's course. That thou, O Sakra, regarded thyself as the actor lies at the root of all sorrow. If the ostensible doer of an act is the real actor thereof, that doer then would not himself be the work of some one else (viz., the Supreme Being). Hence, because the ostensible doer is himself the product of another, that another is the Supreme Being above whom there is nothing higher. Aided by Time I had vanquished thee. Aided by Time thou hast vanquished me. It is Time that is the mover of all beings that move. It is Time that destroys all beings. O Indra, in consequence of thy intelligence being of the vulgar species thou seest not that destruction awaits all things. Some, indeed, regard thee highly as one that has acquired by his own acts the sovereignty of the universe. For all that, how can one like us that know the course of the world, indulge in grief in consequence of having been afflicted by Time, or suffer our understanding to be stupefied, or yield to the influence of error? Shall my understanding or that of one like me, even when we are overwhelmed by Time, coming in contact with a calamity, suffer itself to be destroyed like a wrecked vessel at sea?[856] Myself, thyself, and all those who will in future become the chiefs of the deities, shall have, O Sakra, to go the way along which hundreds of Indras have gone before thee. When thy hour matures itself, Time will surely destroy thee like me,--thee that art now so invincible and that now blazest with unrivalled splendour. In Time's course many thousands of Indras and of deities have been swept off yuga after yuga. Time, indeed, is irresistible. Having attained to thy present position, thou regardest thyself very highly, even as the Creator of all beings, the divine and eternal Brahman. This position of thine had been attained by many before thee. With none did it prove stable or unending. In consequence, however, of a foolish understanding, thou alone regardest it to be immutable and eternal. Thou trustest in that which is not deserving of trust. Thou deemest that to be eternal which is not eternal. O chief of the deities, one that is overwhelmed and stupefied by Time really regards oneself after this manner. Led by folly thou regardest thy present regal prosperity to be thine. Know, however, that it is never stable in respect of either thee or me or others. It had belonged to innumerable persons before thee. Passing over them, it has now become thine. It will stay with thee, O Vasava, for some time and then prove its instability. Like a cow abandoning one drinking ditch for another, it will surely desert thee for somebody else. So many sovereigns have gone before thee that I venture not to make an enumeration. In the future also, O Purandara, innumerable sovereigns will rise after thee. I do not behold those rulers now that had formerly enjoyed this earth with her trees and plants and gems and living creatures and waters and mines. Prithu, Aila, Maya, Bhima, Naraka, Samvara, Aswagriva, Puloman, Swarbhanu, whose standard was of immeasurable height, Prahlada, Namuchi, Daksha, Vipprachitti, Virochana, Hrinisheva, Suhotra, Bhurihan, Pushavat, Vrisha, Satyepsu, Rishava, Vahu, Kapilaswa, Virupaka, Vana, Kartaswara, Vahni, Viswadanshtra, Nairiti, Sankocha, Varitaksha, Varaha, Aswa, Ruchiprabha, Viswajit, Pratirupa, Vrishanda, Vishkara, Madhu, Hiranyakasipu, the Danava Kaitabha, and many others that were Daityas and Danavas and Rakshasas, these and many more unnamed, belonging to remote and remoter ages, great Daityas and foremost of Danavas, whose names we have heard,--indeed, many foremost of Daityas of former times,--having gone away, leaving the Earth. All of them were afflicted by Time. Time proved stronger than all of them. All of them had worshipped the Creator in hundreds of sacrifices. Thou art not the one person that hast done so. All of them were devoted to righteousness and all of them always performed great sacrifices. All of them were capable of roaming through the skies, and all were heroes that never showed their backs in battle. All of them had very strong frames and all had arms that resembled heavy bludgeons. All of them were masters of hundreds of illusions, and all could assume any form they wished. We have never heard that having engaged themselves in battle any of them had ever sustained a defeat. All were firm observers of the vow of truth, and all of them sported as they wished. Devoted to the Vedas and Vedic rites, all of them were possessors of great learning. Possessed of great might, all of them had acquired the highest prosperity and affluence. But none of those high-souled sovereigns had the least tincture of pride in consequence of sovereignty. All of them were liberal, giving unto each what each deserved. All of them behaved properly and duly towards all creatures. All of them were the offspring of Daksha's daughters. Endued with great strength, all were lords of the creation. Scorching all things with the energy all of them blazed with splendour. Yet all of them were swept off by time. As regards thee, O Sakra, it is evident that when thou shalt have, after enjoying the earth, to leave her, thou wilt not be able to control thy grief. Cast off this desire that thou cherishest for objects of affection and enjoyment. Cast off this pride that is born of prosperity. If thou actest in this manner, thou wilt then be able to bear the grief that attends the loss of sovereignty. When the hour of sorrow comes, do not yield to sorrow. Similarly, when the hour of joy comes, do not rejoice. Disregarding both the past and the future, live contentedly with the present. When Time that never sleeps came upon me that had always been heedful of my duties, turn thy heart to the ways of peace, O Indra, for that same Time will very soon come over thee! Thou piercest me with thy words, and thou seemest to be bent upon inspiring dread in me. Indeed, finding me collected, thou regardest thy own self very highly. Time had first assailed me. It is even now behind thee. I was at first vanquished by Time. It was for that reason that thou didst afterwards succeed in vanquishing me for which thou roarest in pride thus. Formerly, when I happened to become angry, what person was there on earth that could stand before me in battle? Time, however, is stronger. He has overwhelmed me. It is for this reason, O Vasava, that thou art able to stand before me! Those thousand (celestial years), that are the measure of thy sway, will surely come to an end. Thou shalt then fall and thy limbs will become as miserable as mine now even though I am possessed of mighty energy. I have fallen away from the high place that is occupied by the sovereign of the three worlds. Thou art now the actual Indra in heaven. In this delightful world of living beings, thou art now, in consequence of Time's course, an object of universal adoration. Canst thou say what is that by having done which thou hast become Indra today and what also is that by having done which we have fallen off from the position we had? Time is the one creator and destroyer. Nothing else is cause (in the universe for the production of any effect). Decline, fall, sovereignty, happiness, misery, birth and death,--a learned person by encountering any of these neither rejoices nor indulges in sorrow. Thou, O Indra, knowest us. We also, O Vasava, know thee. Why then dost thou brag in this fashion before me, forgetting, O shameless one, that it is Time that hath made thee what thou art? Thou didst thyself witness what my prowess was in those days. The energy and might I used to display in all my battles, furnish sufficient evidence. The Adityas, the Rudras, the Sadhyas, the Vasus, and the Maruts, O lord of Sachi, were all vanquished by me. Thou knowest it well thyself, O Sakra, that in the great encounter between the gods and the Asuras, the assembled deities were quickly routed by me by the fury of my attack. Mountains with their forests and the denizens that lived in those forests, were repeatedly hurled by us. Many were the mountain summits with craggy edges that I broke on thy head. What, however, can I do now? Time is incapable of being resisted. If it were not so, do not think that I would not have ventured to kill thee with that thunderbolt of thine with even a blow of my fist. The present, however, is not the hour with me for the display of prowess. The hour that hath come is such that I should adopt tranquillity now and tolerate everything. It is for this reason, O Sakra, that I put up with all this insolence of thine. Know, however, that I am less able to bear insolence than even thou. Thou braggest before one who, upon his time having matured, is surrounded on all sides by Time's conflagration and bound strongly in Time's cords. Yonder stands that dark individual who is incapable of being resisted by the world. Of fierce form, he stands there, having bound me like an inferior animal bound with cords. Gain and loss, happiness and misery, lust and wrath, birth and death, captivity and release,--these all one encounters in Time's course. I am not the actor. Thou art not the actor. He is the actor who, indeed, is omnipotent. That Time ripens me (for throwing me down) like a fruit that has appeared on a tree. There are certain acts by doing which one person obtains happiness in Time's course. By doing those very acts another obtains misery in the course of Time. Versed as I am with the virtues of Time, it behoves me not to indulge in grief when it is Time that has assailed me. It is for this reason, O Sakra, that I do not grieve. Grief cannot do us any good. The grief of one that indulges in grief never dispels one's calamity. On the other hand, grief destroys one's power. It is for this that I do not indulge in grief.' "'"Thus addressed by the chief of the Daityas, he of a hundred sacrifices, viz., the puissant and thousand-eyed chastiser of Paka, restrained his wrath and said these words. "'"Sakra said, 'Beholding this upraised arm of mine, equipped with the thunderbolt, and those nooses of Varuna, who is there whose understanding would not be agitated, including the very Destroyer himself that compasses the death of all beings? Thy understanding, however, so firm and so endued with vision of the truth, hath not been agitated. O thou of invincible prowess, verily, thou art unmoved today in consequence of thy fortitude. Beholding all things in this universe to be fleeting, who is there in it, endued with body, that would venture to repose confidence on either his body or all the objects of his desire? Like thyself I also know that this universe is not eternal, and that it has been thrown into Time's conflagration that is dreadful though hidden from the view, that is continuously burning, and that is truly endless. Every one is assailed here by Time. Nothing among beings that are subtile or gross enjoys an immunity from Time's sway. All things are being cooked in Time's cauldron. Time has no master. Time is ever heedful. Time is always cooking all things within itself. No one who has once entered the domain of Time which is ceaselessly going on, can escape therefrom. All embodied beings may be heedless of Time, but Time is heedful and is broad awake behind them. No one has ever been seen to have driven off Time from him. Ancient and eternal, and the embodiment of justice, Time is uniform in respect of all living creatures. Time cannot be avoided, and there is no retrogression in its course. Like a usurer adding up his interest, Time adds up its subtile portions represented by kalas, and lavas, and kashthas, and kshanas, and months, and days and nights. Like the current of a river washing away a tree whose roots are reached by it, Time, getting at him who says, "This I will do today but this other act I will do tomorrow" sweeps him away. Time sweeps away one and men exclaim, "I saw him a little while ago. How has he died?" Wealth, comforts, rank, prosperity, all fall a prey to Time. Approaching every living creature, Time snatches away his life. All things that proudly raise their heads high are destined to fall down. That which is existent is only another form of the non-existent. Everything is transitory and unstable. Such a conviction is, however, difficult to come at. Thy understanding, so firm and endued with true vision, is unmoved. Thou dost not, even mentally, realise what thou wert some time ago. Time that is strong, assailing the universe, cooks it within itself and sweeps away everything without consideration of seniority of years or the reverse. For all that, one that is being dragged by Time is unconscious of the noose thrown round one's neck. People, given to jealousy and vanity and cupidity to lust, wrath, and fear, to desire, heedlessness, and pride, suffer themselves to be stupefied. Thou, however, art acquainted with the truth of existence. Thou art possessed of learning and endued with wisdom and penance. Thou beholdest Time as clearly as if it were an emblic myrobalan on the palm of thy hand. O son of Virochana, fully conversant art thou with the topic of Time's conduct. Thou art well-versed in all branches of knowledge. Thou art of cleansed Soul and a thorough master of thy persons. Thou art, for this, an object of affection with all persons endued with wisdom. Thou hast, with thy understanding, fully comprehended the whole universe. Though thou hast enjoyed every kind of happiness, thou art never attached to anything, and hence thou hast not been stained by anything. The qualities of Passion and Darkness do not soil thee for thou hast conquered thy senses. Thou waitest only upon thy Soul which is divested of both joy and sorrow. The friend of all creatures, without animosity, with thy heart set upon tranquillity, beholding thee thus, my heart is inclined to compassion towards thee. I do not desire to afflict an enlightened person like thee by keeping him in an enchained condition. Abstention from injury is the highest religion. I feel compassion towards thee. These nooses of Varuna, with which thou hast been bound, will loosen Time's course in consequence of the misconduct of men. Blessed be thou, O great Asura! When the daughter-in-law will set the aged mother-in-law to work, when the son, through delusion, will command the sire to work for him, when Sudras will have their feet washed by Brahmanas and have sexual congress fearlessly with women of regenerate families, when men will discharge the vital seed into forbidden wombs, when the refuse of houses will begin to be carried upon plates and vessels made of white brass, and when sacrificial offerings intended for the deities will begin to be borne upon forbidden vessels, when all the four orders will transgress all restraints, then these bonds of thine will begin one by one, to loosen. From us thou hast no fear. Wait quietly. Be happy. Be divested of all sorrow. Let thy heart be cheerful. Let no illness be thine.' Having said these words unto him, the divine Indra, having the prince of elephants for his vehicle, left that spot. Having vanquished all the Asuras, the chief of the deities rejoiced in gladness and became the one sole lord of all the worlds. The great Rishis hymned the praises of that lord of all mobile and immobile creatures. The deity of fire once more began to bear the libations of clarified butter that were poured (by all) into his visible form, and the great god took charge of the nectar that was committed to his care. His praises hymned by the foremost of Brahmanas engaged in sacrifices, the lord Indra, blazing with splendour, his wrath pacified, and his heart tranquillised, became gladdened, and returning to his own abode in heaven, began to pass his days in great happiness."'"[857] SECTION CCXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, the indications of future greatness and future fall in respect of a person." "'Bhishma said, "The mind itself, blessed be thou, indicates the premonitory symptoms of one's future prosperity and future fall. In this connection is cited the old story of the discourse between Sree and Sakra. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! The great ascetic Narada, of energy whose effulgence is as immeasurable as Brahma itself, with sins all destroyed, capable of beholding through the prosperity of his penances both this and the other world at once, and the equal of the celestial Rishis in the region of the Creator, roved according to his pleasure through the triple world. One day, rising up at dawn, he wished to perform his ablutions, and for that purpose went to the river Ganga as she issued out of the pass known by the name of Dhruva and plunged into the stream.[858] At that time the thousand-eyed Indra also, the wielder of the thunderbolt, and the slayer of Samvara and Paka, came to the very bank where Narada was. The Rishi and the deity, both of souls under perfect command, finished their ablutions, and having completed their silent recitations, sat together. They employed the hour in reciting and listening to the excellent narratives told by the great celestial Rishis descriptive of many good and high deeds. Indeed, with concentrated attention the two were engaged in such pleasant discourse on ancient history.[859] While sitting there they beheld the rising Sun casting his thousand rays right before him. Seeing the full orb, both of them stood up and hymned his praises. Just at that time they beheld in the sky, in a direction opposite to that of the rising star of day, some luminous object, resplendent as blazing fire and that seemed to be a second star of day. And they saw, O Bharata, that that luminous object was gradually approaching towards them both. Riding upon Vishnu's vehicle adorned with Garuda and Surya himself, that object blazed forth with unrivalled splendour, and seemed to illumine the three worlds. The object they saw was none other than Sree herself, attended by many Apsaras endued with splendid beauty. Indeed, she looked like a large solar disc herself, possessed of effulgence resembling that of fire. Adorned with ornaments that looked like veritable stars, she wore a wreath that resembled a garland of pearls. Indra saw that goddess called Padma having her habitation in the midst of lotuses. Descending from her foremost of cars, that unrivalled lady began to approach towards the lord of the three worlds and the celestial Rishi Narada. Followed by Narada, Maghavat also proceeded towards that lady. With joined hands, he offered himself up to her, and versed as he was with all things, he worshipped her with reverence and sincerity never surpassed. The adorations over, the lord of celestials, O king, addressed Sree in the following words. "'"Sakra said, 'O thou of sweet smiles, who, indeed, art thou and for what business hast thou come here? O thou of fair brows, whence dost thou come and whither wilt thou proceed, O auspicious lady?' "'"Sree said, 'In the three worlds full of the seeds of auspiciousness, all creatures, mobile and immobile, strive with their whole hearts to win an association with me. I am that Padma, that Sree decked with lotuses, who sprang from the lotus that blooms at the touch of the rays of Surya, for the prosperity of all creatures. I am called Lakshmi, Bhuti, and Sree, O slayer of Vala! I am Faith, I am Intelligence, I am Affluence, I am Victory, and I am Immutability. I am Patience, I am Success, I am Prosperity. I am Swaha, I am Swadha, I am Reverence, I am Fate, and I am Memory. I dwell at the van and on the standards of victorious and virtuous sovereigns, as also in their homes and cities and dominions. I always reside, O slayer of Vala, with those foremost of men, viz., heroes panting after victory and unretreating from battle. I also reside for ever with persons that are firmly attached to virtue, that are endued with great intelligence, that are devoted to Brahma, that are truthful in speech, that are possessed of humility, and that are liberal. Formerly, I dwelt with the Asuras in consequence of my disposition of being bound by truth and merit. Seeing, however, that the Asuras have assumed adverse natures, I have left then and wish to reside in thee.' "'"Sakra said, 'O thou of fair face, in consequence of what behaviour of the Asuras didst thou dwell with them? What didst thou see there for which thou hast come hither, having deserted the Daityas and the Danavas?' "'"Sree said, 'I attach myself steadfastly to those that are devoted to the duties of their own order, to those that never fall away from patience, to those that take a pleasure in walking along the path which leads to heaven. I always reside with those that are distinguished for liberality, for study of the scriptures, for sacrifices, for other scriptural rites, and for worship of Pitris, deities, preceptors, seniors, and guests. Formerly, the Danavas used to keep their abodes clean, to keep their women under control, to pour libations on the sacrificial fire, to wait dutifully on their preceptors, to restrain their passions, to be obedient to the Brahmanas, and to be truthful in speech. They were full of faith; they kept their wrath under control; they practised the virtue of charity; they never envied others; they used to maintain their friends and advisers, and their spouses; they were never jealous. Formerly, they never assailed one another, filled with wrath. They were all contented and never felt pain at the sight of other people's affluence and prosperity. They were all charitable and economical; of respectable conduct, and endued with compassion. They were excessively inclined to grace, possessed of simplicity of conduct, steadfast in faith, and had their passions under complete control. They used to keep their servants and counsellors contented, and were grateful and endued with sweet speech. They used to serve every one as each deserved in consequence of his position and honour. They were endued with shame. They were of rigid vows. They used to perform their ablutions on every sacred day. They used to smear themselves properly with perfumes and auspicious unguents. They were also to adorn their persons duly. They were observant of fasts and penances, were trustful, and utterers of Vedic hymns. The Sun never rose upon them while they lay asleep. They never outslept the moon. They always abstained from curds and pounded barley. They used every morning to look at clarified butter and other auspicious articles, and with senses withdrawn they used to recite the Vedas and worship Brahmanas with gifts. Their discourse was always virtuous, and they never accepted gifts. They always went to sleep at midnight and never slept during the day. They always used to take pleasure in showing compassion for the distressed, the helpless, the aged, the weak, the sick, and women, and enjoyed all their possessions by sharing these with them. They always used to assume and comfort the agitated, the cheerless, the anxious, the terrified, the diseased, the weak and emaciated, the robbed, and the afflicted. They followed the dictates of virtue and never injured one another. They were ready and well-disposed for action of every kind (that deserved to be accomplished). They used to serve and wait with reverence upon seniors and aged individuals. They duly worshipped Pitris, deities, and guests, and ate every day what was left after gratifying these. They were firmly devoted to truth and penances. None amongst them ate singly any food that was good, and none had congress with other people's wives. As regards compassion, they behaved towards all creatures as towards their own selves. They never allowed the emission of the vital seed into empty space, into inferior animals, into forbidden wombs, or on sacred days. They were always distinguished for gifts, for cleverness, for simplicity, for hopeful exertion, for humility, for friendliness, and for forgiveness. And, O puissant one, truth, charity, penance, purity, compassion, soft speeches and absence of animosity towards friends,--all these were always in them. Slumber, procrastination, fretfulness, envy, and want of foresight, discontent, melancholy, cupidity never assailed them. In consequence of the Danavas having been distinguished for these good qualities, I dwelt with them from the beginning of the creation for many yugas together. Times were altered, and that alteration brought about an alteration in the character of the Danavas. I saw that virtue and morality deserted them and they began to own the sway of lust and wrath. Persons, though themselves inferior in attainments, began to cherish animosities towards seniors in age possessed of superior qualifications, and while the latter, possessed of virtue and merit, used to speak upon proper topics in the midst of assemblies, the former began to ridicule or laugh at them. When reverend seniors in age came, the younger individuals, seated at their ease, refused to adore the former by rising up and saluting them with respect. In the presence of sires, sons began to exercise power (in matters that concerned sires alone). They that were not in receipt of wages accepted service and shamelessly proclaimed the fact. Those amongst them that succeeded in amassing great wealth by doing unrighteous and censurable deeds came to be held in esteem.[860] During the night they began to indulge in loud screams and shrieks. Their homa fires ceased to send bright and upward flames. Sons began to lord it over sires, and wives dominated over husbands. Mothers, fathers, aged seniors, preceptors, guests, and guides ceased to command respect for their superior status. People ceased to bring up with affection their own offspring but began to desert them. Without giving away the defined portion in alms and reserving the fixed portion for offering it unto the gods, every one ate what he had. Indeed, without offering their goods to the deities in sacrifices and without sharing them with the Pitris, the gods, guests, and reverend seniors, they appropriated them to their own use shamelessly. Their cooks no longer professed any consideration for purity of mind, deed, and word. They ate what had been left uncovered. Their corn lay scattered in yards, exposed to devastation by crows and rats. Their milk remained exposed, and they began to touch clarified butter with hands unwashed after eating.[861] Their spades, domestic knives, baskets, and dishes and cups of white brass, and other utensils began to lie scattered in their houses. Their housewives abstained from looking after these. They no longer attained to the repairs of their houses and walls. Tethering their animals they abstained from giving them food and drink.[862] Disregarding children that only looked on, and without having fed their dependants, the Danavas ate what they had. They began to prepare payasa and krisara and dishes of meat and cakes and sashkuli (not for gods and guests) but for their own slaves, and commenced to eat the flesh of animals not killed in sacrifices.[863] They used to sleep even after the sun had risen. They made night of their morns. Day and night disputes and quarrels waxed in every house of theirs. They that were not respectable amongst them no longer showed any respect for those that deserve respect while the latter were seated in any place. Fallen off from their defined duties, they ceased to reverence those that had betaken themselves to the woods for leading a life of peace and divine contemplation. Intermixture of castes freely commenced among them. They ceased to attend to purity of person or mind. Brahmanas learned in the Vedas ceased to command respect among them. Those again that were ignorant of Richs were not condemned or punished. Both were treated on a footing of equality, those, that is, that deserved respect and those that deserved no respect. Their servant girls became wicked in behaviour, and began to wear necklaces of gold and other ornaments and fine robes, and used to remain in their houses or go away before their very eyes. They began to derive great pleasure from sports and diversions in which their women were dressed as men and their men as women. Those amongst their ancestors that were affluent had made gifts of wealth unto deserving persons. The descendants of the donors, even when in prosperous conditions, began to resume, for their unbelief, those gifts. When difficulties threatened the accomplishment of any purpose and friend sought the counsel of friend, that purpose was frustrated by the latter even if he had any interest of the slightest value to subserve by frustrating it. Amongst even their better classes have appeared traders and dealers in goods, intent upon taking the wealth of others. The Sudras amongst them have taken to the practice of penances. Some amongst them have begun to study, without making any rules for regulating their hours and food. Others have begun to study, making rules that are useless. Disciples have abstained from rendering obedience and service to preceptors. Preceptors again have come to treat disciples as friendly companions. Fathers and mothers are worn out with work, and have abstained from indulging in festivities. Parents in old age, divested of power over sons, have been forced to beg their food of the latter. Amongst them, even persons of wisdom, conversant with the Vedas, and resembling the ocean itself in gravity of deportment, have begun to betake themselves to agriculture and such other pursuits. Persons who are illiterate and ignorant have begun to be fed at Sraddhas.[864] Every morning, disciples, instead of approaching preceptors for making dutiful enquiries for ascertaining what acts awaited accomplishment and for seeking commissions which they are to discharge, are themselves waited upon by preceptors who discharge those functions. Daughters-in-law, in the presence of their husbands' mothers and fathers, rebuke and chastise servants and maids, and summoning their husbands lecture and rebuke them. Sires, with great care, seek to keep sons in good humour, or dividing through fear their wealth among children, live in woe and affliction.[865] Even persons enjoying the friendship of the victims, beholding the latter deprived of wealth in conflagrations or by robbers or by the king, have begun to indulge in laughter from feelings of mockery. They have become ungrateful and unbelieving and sinful and addicted to adulterous congress with even the spouses of their preceptors. They have betaken themselves to eating forbidden food. They have transgressed all bounds and restraints. They have become divested of that splendour which had distinguished them before. In consequence of these and other indications of wicked conduct and the reversal of their former nature, I shall not, O chief of the gods, dwell among them any longer. I have, therefore, come to thee of my own accord. Receive me with respect, O lord of Sachi! Honoured by thee, O chief of the celestials, I shall receive honour from all other deities. There, where I reside, the seven other goddesses with Jaya for their eighth, who love me, who are inseparably associated with me, and who depend upon me, desire to live. They are Hope, Faith, Intelligence, Contentment, Victory, Advancement, and Forgiveness. She who forms the eighth, viz., Jaya, occupies the foremost place amongst them, O chastiser of Paka. All of them and myself, having deserted the Asuras, have come to thy domains. We shall henceforth reside among the deities who are devoted to righteousness and faith.' "'"After the goddess had said so, the celestial Rishi Narada, and Vasava, the slayer of Vritra, for gladdening her, offered her a joyful welcome. The god of wind,--that friend of Agni, then began to blow gently through heaven, bearing delicious odours, refreshing all creatures with whom he came into contact, and contributing to the felicity of every one of the senses. All the deities (hearing the news) assembled together in a pure and desirable spot and waited there in expectation of beholding Maghavat seated with Lakshmi beside him. Then the thousand-eyed chief of the gods, accompanied by Sree and his friend the great Rishi, and riding upon a splendid car drawn by green horses, came into that assembly of the celestials, receiving honour from all. Then the great Rishi Narada, whose prowess was known to all the celestials, observing a sign that the wielder of the thunderbolt made and which Sree herself approved of, welcomed the advent of the goddess there and proclaimed it as exceedingly auspicious. Heaven's firmament became clear and bright and began to shower nectar upon the region of the self-born Grandsire. The celestial kettle-drums, though struck by none, began to beat, and all the points of the horizon, becoming clear, seemed ablaze with splendour. Indra began to pour rain upon crops that commenced to appear each at its proper season. No one then deviated from the path of righteousness. The earth became adorned with many mines filled with jewels and gems, and the chant of Vedic recitations and other melodious sounds swelled up on the occasion of that triumph of the celestials. Human beings, endued with firm minds, and all adhering to the auspicious path that is trod by the righteous, began to take pleasure in Vedic and other religious rites and acts. Men and gods and Kinnaras and Yakshas and Rakshasas all became endued with prosperity and cheerfulness. Not a flower,--what need then be said of fruits,--dropped untimely from a tree even if the god of wind shook it with force. All the kine began to yield sweet milk whenever milked by men, and cruel and harsh words ceased to be uttered by any one. They who, from desire of advancement, approach before assemblies of Brahmanas, and read this narrative of the glorification of Sree by all the deities with Indra at their head, deities that are competent to grant every wish,--succeed in winning great prosperity. These then O chief of the Kurus, are the foremost indications of prosperity and adversity. Urged on by thee, I have told thee all. It behoves thee to bear thyself according to the instructions conveyed herein, understanding them after careful reflection!"'" SECTION CCXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "By what disposition, what course of duties, what knowledge, and what energy, does one succeed in attaining to Brahma which is immutable and which is beyond the reach of primordial nature."[866] "'Bhishma said, "One that is engaged in the practice of the religion of nivritti, that eats abstemiously, and that has his senses under complete control, can attain to Brahma which is immutable and which is above primordial nature. In this connection is cited the old narrative, O Bharata, of the discourse between Jaigishavya and Asita. Once on a time Asita-Devala addressed Jaigishavya who was possessed of great wisdom and fully acquainted with the truths of duty and morality. "'"Devala said, 'Thou art not gladdened when praised. Thou dost not give way to wrath when blamed or censured. What, indeed, is thy wisdom? Whence hast thou got it? And what, indeed, is the refuge of that wisdom?'" "'Bhishma said, "Thus questioned by Devala, the pure Jaigishavya of austere penances, said those words of high import, fraught with full faith and profound sense. "'"Jaigishavya said, 'O foremost of Rishis, I shall tell thee of that which is the highest end, that which is the supreme goal, that which is tranquillity, in the estimation of all persons of righteous acts. They, O Devala, who behave uniformly towards those that praise them and those that blame them, they who conceal their own vows and good acts, they who never indulge in recriminations, they who never say even what is good when it is calculated to injure (instead of producing any benefit), they who do not desire to return injury for injury received, are said to be men possessed of wisdom.[867] They never grieve for what is yet to come. They are concerned with only what is before them and acts as they should. They never indulge in sorrow for what is past or even call it to their minds. Possessed of power and regulated minds, they do at their pleasure, according to the way in which it should be done, what waits for them to do in respect of all objects, O Devala, if solicited regardfully thereto.[868] Of mature knowledge, of great wisdom, with wrath under complete control, and with their passions kept under sway, they never do an injury to any one in thought, word, or deed. Destitute of envy, they never injure others, and possessed of self-control, they are never pained at the sight of other people's prosperity. Such men never indulge in exaggerated speeches, or set themselves in praising others, or in speaking ill of them. They are again never affected by praise and blame uttered by others in respect of them. They are tranquil in respect of all their desires, and are engaged in the good of all creatures. They never give way to wrath, or indulge in transports of joy, or injure any creature. Untying all the knots of their hearts, they pass on very happily. They have no friends nor are they the friends of others. They have no foes nor are they the foes of other creatures. Indeed, men that can live in this way can pass their days for ever in happiness. O best of regenerate ones, they who acquire a knowledge of the rules of morality and righteousness, and who observe those rules in practice, succeed in winning joy, while they who fall off from the path of righteousness are afflicted by anxieties and sorrow. I have now betaken myself to the path of righteousness. Decried by others, why shall I get annoyed with them, or praised by others, why shall I be pleased? Let men obtain whatsoever objects they please from whatsoever pursuits in which they engage themselves. (I am indifferent to acquisitions and losses). Praise and blame are unable to contribute to my advancement or the reverse. He that has understood the truths of things becomes gratified with even disregard as if it were ambrosia. The man of wisdom is truly annoyed with regard as if it were poison. He who is freed from all faults sleeps fearlessly both here and hereafter even if insulted by others. On the other hand, he who insults him, suffers destruction. Those men of wisdom who seek to attain to the highest end, succeed in obtaining it by observing conduct such as this. The man who has vanquished all his senses is regarded to have performed all the sacrifices. Such a person attains to the highest rung, viz., that of Brahma, which is eternal and which transcends the reach of primordial nature. The very gods, the Gandharvas, the Pisachas, and the Rakshasas, cannot reach the rung which is his who has attained to the highest end.'"'" SECTION CCXXX "'Yudhishthira said, "What man is there who is dear to all, who gladdens all persons, and who is endued with every merit and every accomplishment?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection I shall recite to thee the words that Kesava, asked by Ugrasena, said unto him on a former occasion. "'"Ugrasena said, 'All persons seem to be very solicitous of speaking of the merits of Narada. I think that celestial Rishi, must really be possessed of every kind of merit. I ask thee, tell me this, O Kesava!' "'"Vasudeva said, 'O chief of the Kukkuras, listen to me as I mention in brief those good qualities of Narada with which I am acquainted, O king! Narada is as learned in the scriptures as he is good and pious in his conduct. And yet, on account of his conduct, he never cherishes pride that makes one's blood so hot. It is for this reason that he is worshipped everywhere. Discontent, wrath, levity, and fear, these do not exist in Narada. He is free from procrastination, and possessed of courage. For this he is worshipped everywhere. Narada deserves the respectful worship of all. He never falls back from his words through desire or cupidity. For this he is worshipped everywhere. He is fully conversant with the principles that lead to the knowledge of the soul, disposed to peace, possessed of great energy, and a master of his senses. He is free from guile, and truthful in speech. For this he is worshipped with respect everywhere. He is distinguished by energy, by fame, by intelligence, by knowledge, by humility, by birth, by penances, and by years. For these he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He is of good behaviour. He dresses and houses himself well. He eats pure food. He loves all. He is pure in body and mind. He is sweet-speeched. He is free from envy and malice. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He is certainly always employed in doing good to all people. No sin dwells in him. He never rejoices at other people's misfortunes. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He always seeks to conquer all earthly desires by listening to Vedic recitations and attending to the Puranas. He is a great renouncer and he never disregards any one.[869] For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He casts an equal eye on all; and, therefore, he has no one whom he loves and none whom he hates. He always speaks what is agreeable to the hearer. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He is possessed of great learning in the scriptures. His conversation is varied and delightful. His knowledge and wisdom are great. He is free from cupidity. He is free also from deception. He is large-hearted. He has conquered wrath and cupidity. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He has never quarrelled with any one for any subject connected with profit or pleasure. All faults have been torn away by him. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. His devotion (to Brahma) is firm. His soul is blameless. He is well-versed in the Srutis. He is free from cruelty. He is beyond the influence of delusion or faults. For this he is worshipped everywhere with respect. He is unattached to all such things as are objects of attachment (for others). For all that he seems to be attached to all things.[870] He is never long subject to the influence of any doubt. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He has no yearning for objects connected with profit and pleasure. He never glorifies his own self. He is free from malice. He is mild in speech. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He observes the hearts, different from one another, of all men, without blaming any of them. He is well-versed in all matters connected with the origin of things. He never disregards or shows hatred for any kind of science. He lives according to his own standard of morality. He never suffers his time to pass away fruitlessly. His soul is under his control. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He has toiled in subjects that deserve the application of toil. He has earned knowledge and wisdom. He is never satiated with yoga. He is always attentive and ready for exertion. He is ever heedful. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He has never to feel shame for any deficiency of his. He is very attentive. He is always engaged by others in accomplishing what is for their good. He never divulges the secrets of others. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. He never yields to transports of joy on occasions of making even valuable acquisitions. He is never pained at losses. His understanding is firm and stable. His soul is unattached to all things. For this he is everywhere worshipped with respect. Who, indeed, is there that will not love him who is thus possessed of every merit and accomplishment, who is clever in all things, who is pure in body and mind, who is entirely auspicious, who is well-versed with the course of time and its opportuneness for particular acts, and who is well-acquainted with all agreeable things?'"'" SECTION CCXXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "I desire, O thou of Kuru's race, to know what the origin and what the end is of all creatures; what is the nature of their meditation and what are their acts; what are the divisions of time, and what the allotted periods of life in the respective epochs. I desire also to know in full the truth about the genesis and the conduct of the world; the origin of creatures into the world and the manner of their going on. Indeed, whence their creation and destruction? O best of virtuous persons, if thou art minded to favour us, do tell us this about which I ask thee. Having heard before this excellent discourse of Bhrigu unto the regenerate sage Bharadwaja which thou didst recite, my understanding, purged of ignorance, has become exceedingly attached to yoga, and withdrawn from worldly objects rests upon heavenly purity. I ask thee about the subject, therefore, once more. It behoves thee to discourse to me (more elaborately)." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection I shall recite to thee an old narrative of what the divine Vyasa said unto his son Suka when the latter had questioned the former. Having studied the illimitable Vedas with all their branches and the Upanishads, and desirous of leading a life of Brahmacharya in consequence of his having earned excellence of religious merit, Suka addressed these very questions, about which his doubts had been solved, to his father the island-born Rishi who had removed (by study and contemplation) all doubts connected with the topic of the true import of duties. "'"Suka said, 'It behoveth thee to tell me who the Creator is of all beings, as fixed by a knowledge of time,[871] and what the duties are that should be accomplished by a Brahmana.'" "'Bhishma said, "Unto his son who had questioned him, the sire, having a knowledge of both the past and future, conversant with all duties and endued with omniscience, thus discoursed on the subject. "'"Vyasa said, 'Only Brahma, which is without beginning and without end, unborn, blazing with effulgence, above decay, immutable, indestructible, inconceivable, and transcending knowledge, exists before the Creation.[872] The Rishis, measuring time, have named particular portions by particular names. Five and ten winks of the eye make what is called a Kashtha. Thirty Kashthas would make what is called a Kala. Thirty Kalas, with the tenth part of a Kala added, make what is known as a Muhurta. Thirty Muhurtas make up one day and night. Thirty days and nights are called a month, and twelve months are called a year. Persons conversant with mathematical science say that a year is made up of two ayanas (dependent on sun's motion), viz., the northern and the southern. The sun makes the day and the night for the world of man. The night is for the sleep of all living creatures, and the day is for the doing of action. A month of human beings is equal to a day and night of the Pitris. That division (as regards the Pitris) consists in this: the lighted fortnight (of men) is their day which is for the doing of acts; and the dark fortnight is their night for sleep. A year (of human beings) is equal to a day and night of the gods. The division (as regards the gods) consists in this: the half year for which the sun travels from the vernal to the autumnal equinox is the day of the deities, and the half year for which the sun travels from the latter to the former is their night. Computing by the days and nights of human beings about which I have told thee, I shall speak of the day and night of Brahman and his years also. I shall, in their order, tell thee the number of years, that are (thus) for different purposes computed differently in respect of the Krita, the Treta, the Dwapara, and the Kali yugas. Four thousand years (of the deities) is the duration of the first or Krita age. The morning of that epoch consists of four hundred years and its evening is of four hundred years. (The total duration, therefore, of the Krita yuga is four thousand and eight hundred years of the deities). As regards the other yugas, the duration of each gradually decreases by a quarter in respect of both the substantive period with the conjoining portion and the conjoining portion itself. (Thus the duration of the Treta is three thousand years and its morning extends for three hundred years and its evening for three hundred). The duration of the Dwapara also is two thousand years, and its morning extends for two hundred years and its evening also for two hundred. The duration of the Kali yuga is one thousand years, and its morning extends for one hundred years, and its evening for one hundred.[873] These periods always sustain the never-ending and eternal worlds. They who are conversant with Brahma, O child, regard this as Immutable Brahma. In the Krita age all the duties exist in their entirety, along with Truth. No knowledge or object came to men of that age through unrighteous or forbidden means.[874] In the other yugas, duty, ordained in the Vedas, is seen to gradually decline by a quarter in each. Sinfulness grows in consequence of theft, untruth, and deception. In the Krita age, all persons are free from disease and crowned with success in respect of all their objects, and all live for four hundred years. In the Treta, the period of life decreases by a quarter. It has also been heard by us that, in the succeeding yugas, the words of the Vedas, the periods of life, the blessings (uttered by Brahmanas), and the fruits of Vedic rites, all decrease gradually. The duties set down for the Krita yuga are of one kind. Those for the Treta are otherwise. Those for the Dwapara are different. And those for the Kali are otherwise. This is in accordance with that decline that marks every succeeding yuga. In the Krita, Penance occupies the foremost place. In the Treta, Knowledge is foremost. In the Dwapara, Sacrifice has been said to be the foremost, In the Kali yuga, only Gift is the one thing that has been laid down. The learned say that these twelve thousand years (of the deities) constitute what is called a yuga. A thousand such yugas compose a single day of Brahman.[875] The same is the duration of Brahman's night. With the commencement of Brahman's day the universe begins to start into life. During the period of universal dissolution the Creator sleeps, having recourse to yoga-meditation. When the period of slumber expires, He awakes. That then which is Brahman's day extends for a thousand such yugas. His nights also extends for a thousand similar yugas. They who know this are said to know the day and the night. On the expiry of His night, Brahman, waking up, modifies the indestructible chit by causing it to be overlaid with Avidya. He then causes Consciousness to spring up, whence proceeds Mind which is identical with the Manifest.'"'"[876] SECTION CCXXXII "'"Vyasa said, 'Brahma is the effulgent seed from which, existing as it does by itself, hath sprung the whole universe consisting of two kinds of being, viz., the mobile and the immobile.[877] At the dawn of His day, waking up, He creates with the help of Avidya this universe. At first springs up that which is called Mahat. That Mahat is speedily transformed into Mind which is the soul of the Manifest.[878] Overwhelming the Chit, which is effulgent, with Avidya, Mind creates seven great beings.[879] Urged by the desire of creating, Mind, which is far-reaching, which has many courses, and which has desire and doubt for its principal indications, begins to create diverse kinds of objects by modifications of itself. First springs from it Space. Know that its property is Sound. From Space, by modification, arises the bearer of all scents, viz., the pure and mighty Wind. It is said to possess the attribute of Touch. From Wind also, by modification, springs Light endued with effulgence. Displayed in beauty, and called also Sukram, it starts into existence, thus possessing the attribute of Form. From Light, by modification, arises Water having Taste for its attribute. From Water springs Earth having Scent for its attribute. These are said to represent initial creation.[880] These, one after another, acquire the attributes of the immediately preceding ones from which they have sprung. Each has not only its own special attribute but each succeeding one has the attributes of all the preceding ones. (Thus Space has only Sound for its attribute. After Space comes Wind, which has, therefore, both Sound and Touch for its attributes. From Wind comes Light or Fire, which has Sound, Touch, and Form for its attributes. From Light is Water, which has Sound, Touch, Form, and Taste for its attributes. From Water is Earth, which has Sound, Touch, Form, Taste, and Scent for its attributes). If anybody, perceiving Scent in Water, were from ignorance to say that it belongs to Water, he would fall into an error, for Scent is the attribute of Earth though it may exist in a state of attachment with Water and also Wind. These seven kinds of entities, possessing diverse kinds of energy, at first existed separately from one another. They could not create objects without all of them coming together into a state of commingling. All these great entities coming together, and commingling with one another, form the constituent parts of the body which are called limbs.[881] In consequence of the combination of those limbs, the sum total, invested with form and having six and ten constituent parts, becomes what is called the body. (When the gross body is thus formed), the subtile Mahat, with the unexhausted residue of acts, then enters that combination called the gross body.[882] Then the original Creator of all beings, having by his Maya divided Himself, enters that subtile form for surveying or overlooking everything. And inasmuch as he is the original Creator of all beings he is on that account called the Lord of all beings.[883] It is he who creates all beings mobile and immobile. After having thus assumed the form of Brahman he creates the worlds of the gods, the Rishis, the Pitris, and men; the rivers, the seas, and the oceans, the points of the horizon, countries and provinces, hills and mountains, and large trees, human beings, Kinnaras, Rakshasas, birds, animals domestic and wild, and snakes. Indeed, he creates both kinds of existent things, viz., those that are mobile and those that are immobile; and those that are destructible and those that are indestructible. Of these created objects each obtains those attributes which it had during the previous Creation; and each, indeed, obtains repeatedly the same attributes at every subsequent Creation. Determined in respect of character by either injuriousness or peacefulness, mildness or fierceness, righteousness or unrighteousness, truthfulness or untruthfulness, each creature, at every new creation, obtains that particular attribute which it had cherished before. It is in consequence of this that that particular attribute attaches to it. It is the Ordainer himself who attaches variety to the great entities (of Space, Earth, etc.), to the objects of the senses (such as form, etc.), and to size or bulk of existent matter, and appoints the relations of creatures with those multiform entities. Amongst men who have devoted themselves to the science of things, there are some who say that, in the production of effects, exertion is supreme. Some learned persons say that Destiny is supreme, and some that it is Nature which is the agent. Others say that Acts flowing from (personal) exertion, and Destiny, produce effects, aided by Nature. Instead of regarding any of these as singly competent for the production of effects, they say that it is the union of all three that produces all effects. As regards this subject,[884] some say that such is the case; some, that such is not the case; some, that both of these are not the case; and some, that it is not that the reverse of both are not. These, of course, are the contentions of those that depend on Acts, with reference to objects. They however, whose vision is directed to truth regard Brahma as the cause.[885] Penance is the highest good for living creatures. The roots of penance are tranquillity and self-restraint. By penance one obtains all things that one wishes for in one's mind. By penance one attains to that Being who creates the universe. He who (by penance) succeeds in attaining to that Being becomes the puissant master of all beings. It is by Penance that the Rishis are enabled to read the Vedas ceaselessly. At the outset the Self-born caused those excellent Vedic sounds, that are embodiments of knowledge and that have neither beginning nor end to (spring up and) flow on (from preceptor to disciple). From those sounds have sprung all kinds of actions. The names of the Rishis, all things that have been created, the varieties of form seen in existent things, and the course of actions, have their origin in the Vedas.[886] Indeed, the Supreme Master of all beings, in the beginning, created all things from the words of the Vedas. Truly, the names of the Rishis, and all else that has been created, occur in the Vedas. Upon the expiration of his night (i.e., at the dawn of his day), the uncreate Brahman creates, from prototypes that existed before, all things which are, of course, well-made by Him.[887] In the Vedas hath been indicated the topic of the Soul's Emancipation, along with the ten means constituted by study of the Vedas, adoption of the domestic mode of life, penances, observance of duties common to all the modes of life, sacrifices, performance of all such acts as lead to pure fame, meditation which is of three kinds, and that kind of emancipation which is called success (Siddhi) attainable in this life.[888] That incomprehensible Brahma which has been declared in the words of the Vedas, and which has been indicated more clearly in the Upanishads by those who have an insight into the Vedas, can be realised by gradually following the practices referred to above.[889] Unto a person who thinks he has a body, this consciousness of duality, fraught again with that of pairs of opposites, is born only of acts in which he is engaged. (That consciousness of duality ceases during dreamless slumber or when Emancipation has been attained). That person, however, who has attained to Emancipation, aided by his knowledge, forcibly drives off that consciousness of duality. Two Brahmas should be known, viz., the Brahma represented by sound (i.e., the Vedas), and secondly that which is beyond the Vedas and is supreme. One that is conversant with Brahma represented by sound succeeds in attaining to Brahma that is Supreme. The slaughter of animals is the sacrifice laid down for the Kshatriyas. The growing of corn is the sacrifice laid down for the Vaisyas. Serving the three other orders is the sacrifice laid down for the Sudras. Penances (or worship of Brahma) is the sacrifice laid down for the Brahmanas. In the Krita age the performance of sacrifices was not necessary. Such performance became necessary in the Treta age. In the Dwapara, sacrifices have begun to fall off. In the Kali, the same is the case with them. In Krita age, men, worshipping only one Brahma, looked upon the Richs, the Samans, the Yajuses and the rites and sacrifices that are performed from motives of advantage, as all different from the object of their worship, and practised only Yoga, by means of penances. In the Treta age, many mighty men appeared that swayed all mobile and immobile objects. (Though the generality of men in that age were not naturally inclined to the practice of righteousness, yet those great leaders forced them to such practice.) Accordingly, in that age, the Vedas, and sacrifices and the distinctions between the several orders, and the four modes of life, existed in a compact state. In consequence, however, of the decrease in the period of life in Dwapara, all these, in that age, fall off from that compact condition. In the Kali age, all the Vedas become so scarce that they may not be even seen by men. Afflicted by iniquity, they suffer extermination along with the rites and sacrifices laid down in them. The righteousness which is seen in the Krita age is now visible in such Brahmanas as are of cleansed souls and as are devoted to penances and the study of the scriptures. As regards the other yugas, it is seen that without at once giving up the duties and acts that are consistent with righteousness, men, observant of the practices of their respective orders, and conversant with the ordinance of the Vedas are led by the authority of the scriptures, to betake themselves from motives of advantage and interest to sacrifices and vows and pilgrimages to sacred waters and spots.[890] As in the season of rains a large variety of new objects of the immobile order are caused to come forth into life by the showers that fall from the clouds, even so many new kinds of duty or religious observances are brought about in each yuga. As the same phenomena reappear with the reappearance of the seasons, even so, at each new Creation the same attributes appear in each new Brahman and Hara. I have, before this, spoken to thee of Time which is without beginning and without end, and which ordains this variety in the universe. It is that Time which creates and swallows up all creatures. All the innumerable creatures that exist subject to pairs of opposites and according to their respective natures, have Time for their refuge. It is Time that assumes those shapes and it is Time that upholds them.[891] I have thus discoursed to thee, O son, on the topics about which thou hadst inquired, viz., Creation, Time, Sacrifices and other rites, the Vedas, the real actor in the universe, action, and the consequences of action.'"'" SECTION CCXXXIII "'"Vyasa said, 'I shall now tell thee how, when his day is gone and his night comes, he withdraws all things unto himself, or how the Supreme Lord, making this gross universe exceedingly subtile, merges everything into his Soul. When the time comes for universal dissolution, a dozen Suns, and Agni with his seven flames, begin to burn. The whole universe, wrapt by those flames, begins to blaze forth in a vast conflagration. All things mobile and immobile that are on the earth first disappear and merge into the substance of which this planet is composed. After all mobile and immobile objects have thus disappeared, the earth, shorn of trees and herbs, looks naked like a tortoise shell. Then water takes up the attribute of earth, viz., scent. When earth becomes shorn of its principal attribute, that element is on the eve of dissolution. Water then prevails. Surging into mighty billows and producing awful roars, only water fills this space and moves about or remains still. Then the attribute of water is taken by Heat, and losing its own attribute, water finds rest in that element. Dazzling flames of fire, ablaze all around, conceal the Sun that is in the centre of space. Indeed, then, space itself, full of those fiery flames, burns in a vast conflagration. Then Wind comes and takes the attribute, viz., form of Heat or Light, which thereupon becomes extinguished, yielding to Wind, which, possessed of great might, begins to be awfully agitated. The Wind, obtaining its own attribute, viz., sound, begins to traverse upwards and downwards and transversely along all the ten points. Then Space takes the attribute, viz., sound of Wind, upon which the latter becomes extinguished and enters into a phase of existence resembling that of unheard or unuttered sound. Then Space is all that remains, that element whose attribute, viz., sound dwells in all the other elements, divested of the attributes of form, and taste, and touch, and scent, and without shape of any kind, like sound in its unmanifest state of existence. Then sound, which is the attribute of space, is swallowed up by Mind which is the essence of all things that are manifest. Thus Mind which in itself is unmanifest withdraws all that is manifested by Mind. This withdrawal of Mind as displayed into Mind as undisplayed or subtile, is called the destruction of the vast external universe.[892] Then Chandrama's having made Mind (thus) withdraw its attribute into itself, swallows it up. When Mind, ceasing to exist, thus enters into Chandramas, the other attributes that are owned by Iswara are all that remain. This Chandramas, which is called also Sankalpa, is then, after a very long time, brought under Iswara's sway, the reason being that that Sankalpa has to perform a very difficult act, viz., the destruction of Chitta or the faculties that are employed in the process called judgment. When this has been effected, the condition reached is said to be of high Knowledge. Then Time swallows up this Knowledge, and as the Sruti declares, Time itself, in its turn, is swallowed up by Might, or Energy. Might or energy, however, is (again) swallowed up by Time, which last is then brought under her sway by Vidya. Possessed of Vidya, Iswara then swallows up non-existence itself into his Soul. That is Unmanifest and Supreme Brahma. That is Eternal, and that is the Highest of the High. Thus all existent creatures are withdrawn into Brahma. Truly hath this, which should be conceived (with the aid of the scriptures) and which is a topic of Science, been thus declared by Yogins possessed of Supreme Souls, after actual experience. Even thus doth the Unmanifest Brahma repeatedly undergo the processes of Elaboration and Withdrawal (i.e., Creation and Destruction), and even thus Brahman's Day and Night each consist of a thousand yugas.'"'"[893] SECTION CCXXXIV "'"Vyasa said, 'Thou hadst asked me about the Creation of all beings; I have now narrated that to thee in full. Listen to me as I tell thee now what the duties are of a Brahmana. The rituals of all ceremonies for which sacrificial fees are enjoined, commencing with Jatakarma and ending with Samavartana, depend for their performance upon a preceptor competent in the Vedas.[894] Having studied all the Vedas and having displayed a submissive behaviour towards his preceptor during his residence with him, and having paid the preceptor's fee, the youth should return home with a thorough knowledge of all sacrifices.[895] Receiving the permission of his preceptor, he should adopt one of the four modes of life and live in it in due observance of its duties till he casts off his body. He should either lead a life of domesticity with spouses and engaged in creating offspring, or live in the observance of Brahmacharya; or in the forest in the company of his preceptor, or in the practice of the duties laid down for a yati. A life of domesticity is said to be the root of all the other modes of life. A self-restrained householder who has conquered all his attachments to worldly objects always attains to success (in respect of the great object of life). A Brahmana, by begetting children, by acquiring a knowledge of the Vedas, and by performing sacrifices, pays off the three debts he owes.[896] He should then enter the other modes of life, having cleansed himself by his acts. He should settle in that place which he may ascertain to be the most sacred spot on earth, and he should strive in all matters that lead to fame, for attaining to a position of eminence. The fame of Brahmanas increases through penances that are very austere, through mastery of the various branches of knowledge, through sacrifices, and through gifts. Indeed, a person enjoys endless regions of the righteous (in the next world) as long as his deeds or the memory thereof lasts in this world. A Brahmana should teach, study, officiate at other people's sacrifices, and offer sacrifices himself. He should not give away in vain or accept other people's gifts in vain. Wealth, sufficient in quantity, that may come from one who is assisted in a sacrifice, from a pupil, or from kinsmen (by marriage) of a daughter, should be spent in the performance of sacrifice or in making gifts. Wealth coming from any of these sources should never be enjoyed by a Brahmana singly.[897] For a Brahmana leading a life of domesticity there is no means save the acceptance of gifts for the sake of the deities, or Rishis, or Pitris, or preceptor or the aged, or the diseased, or the hungry.[898] Unto those that are persecuted by unseen foes, or those that are striving to the best of their power to acquire knowledge, one should make gifts from one's own possessions, including even cooked food, more than one can fairly afford.[899] Unto a deserving person there is nothing that cannot be given. They that are good and wise deserve to have even the prince of steeds, called Uchchaisravas, belonging to Indra himself.[900] Of high vows (king) Satyasandha, having, with due humility, offered his own life-breaths for saving those of a Brahmana, ascended to heaven. Sankriti's son Rantideva, having given only lukewarm water to the high-souled Vasishtha, ascended to heaven and received high honours there. Atri's royal son Indradamana, possessed of great intelligence, having given diverse kinds of wealth to a deserving person, acquired diverse regions of felicity in the next world. Usinara's son Sivi, having given away his own limbs and the dear son of loins for the sake of a Brahmana, ascended to heaven from this world. Pratardana, the ruler of Kasi, having given away his very eyes to a Brahmana, obtained great fame both here and hereafter. King Devavridha, having given away a very beautiful and costly umbrella, with eight golden ribs, proceeded to heaven with all the people of his kingdom. Sankriti of Atri's race, possessed of great energy, having given instruction to his disciples on the subject of Impersonal Brahma, proceeded to regions of great felicity. Amvarisha of great prowess, having given unto the Brahmanas eleven Arvudas of kine, proceeded to heaven with all the people of his kingdom. Savitri, by giving away her ear-rings, and king Janamejaya, by giving away his own body, both proceeded to high regions of felicity. Yuvanaswa, the son of Vrishadarbha, by giving away diverse kinds of gems, a fine mansion, and many beautiful women, ascended to heaven. Nimi, the ruler of the Videhas, gave away his kingdom, Jamadagni's son (Rama) gave away the whole earth; and Gaya gave away the earth with all her towns and cities, unto the Brahmanas. Once when the clouds ceased to pour, Vasishtha, resembling Brahman himself, kept alive all creatures like Prajapati keeping them alive (by his energy and kindness). Karandhama's son Marutta of cleansed soul, by giving away his daughter to Angiras, speedily ascended to heaven. Brahmadatta, the ruler of the Panchalas, possessed of superior intelligence, by giving away two precious jewels called Nidhi and Sankha unto some of the foremost of the Brahmanas, obtained many regions of felicity. King Mitrasaha, having given his own dear wife Madayanti unto the high-souled Vasishtha, ascended to heaven with that wife of his. The royal sage Sahasrajit, possessed of great fame having cast off dear life itself for the sake of a Brahmana, ascended to regions of great felicity. King Satadyumna, having given to Mudgala a mansion made of gold and full of every object of comfort and use, ascended to heaven. The king of the Salwas, known by the name of Dyutimat, possessed of great prowess, gave unto Richika his entire kingdom and ascended to heaven. The Royal sage Madiraswa, by giving away his daughter of slender waist to Hiranyahasta, ascended to such regions as are held in esteem by the very gods. The royal sage Lomapada, of great prowess, by giving away his daughter Santa to Rishyasringa, obtained the fruition of all his wishes. King Prasenajit, of great energy, by giving away a hundred thousand kine with calves, ascended to excellent regions of felicity. These and many others, possessed of great and well-ordered souls and having their senses under control, ascended, by means of gifts and penances, to heaven. Their fame will last as long as the earth herself will last. All of them have, by gifts, sacrifices and procreation of issue, proceeded to heaven.'"'" SECTION CCXXXV "'"Vyasa said, 'The knowledge called Trayi which occurs in the Vedas and their branches should be acquired. That knowledge is to be derived from the Richs, the Samans, and the sciences called Varna and Akshara. There are besides, the Yajuses and the Atharvans. In the six kinds of acts indicated in these, dwells the Divine Being. They that are well-versed in the declarations of the Vedas, that have knowledge of the Soul, that are attached to the quality of Goodness, and that are highly blessed, succeed in understanding the origin and the end of all things. A Brahmana should live in the observance of the duties laid down in the Vedas. He should do all his acts like a good man of restrained soul. He should earn his livelihood without injuring any creature. Having derived knowledge from the good and wise, he should control his passions and propensities. Well-versed in the scriptures, he should practise those duties that have been laid down for him, and do all acts in this world guided by the quality of goodness. Leading even the domestic mode of life, the Brahmana should be observant of the six acts already spoken of.[901] His heart full of faith, he should worship the deities in the five well-known sacrifices. Endued with patience, never heedless, having self-control, conversant with duties, with a cleansed soul, divested of joy, pride, and wrath, the Brahmana should never sink in languor. Gifts, study of the Vedas, sacrifices, penances, modesty, guilelessness, and self-restraint,--these enhance one's energy and destroy one's sins. One endued with intelligence should be abstemious in diet and should conquer one's senses. Indeed, having subdued both lust and wrath, and having washed away all his sins, he should strive for attaining to Brahma. He should worship the Fire and Brahmanas, and bow to the deities. He should avoid all kinds of inauspicious discourse and all acts of unrighteous injury. This preliminary course of conduct is first laid down for a Brahmana. Subsequently, when knowledge comes, he should engage himself in acts, for in acts lies success.[902] The Brahmana who is endued with intelligence succeeds in crossing the stream of life that is so difficult to cross and that is so furious and terrible, that has the five senses for its waters, that has cupidity for its source, and wrath for its mire. He should never shut his eyes to the fact that Time stands behind him in a threatening attitude.--Time who is the great stupefier of all things, and who is armed with very great and irresistible force, issuing from the great Ordainer himself. Generated by the current of Nature, the universe is being ceaselessly carried along. The mighty river of Time, overspread with eddies constituted by the years, having the months for its waves and the seasons for its current, the fortnights for its floating straw and grass, and the rise and fall of the eyelids for its froth, the days and the nights for its water, and desire and lust for its terrible crocodiles, the Vedas and sacrifices for its rafts, and the righteousness of creatures for its islands, and Profit and Pleasure for its springs, truthfulness of speech and Emancipation for its shores, benevolence for the trees that float along it, and the yugas for the lakes along its course,--the mighty river of Time,--which has an origin as inconceivable as that of Brahma itself, is ceaselessly bearing away all beings created by the great Ordainer towards the abode of Yama.[903] Persons possessed of wisdom and patience always succeed in crossing this awful river by employing the rafts of knowledge and wisdom. What, however, can senseless fools, destitute of similar rafts do (when thrown into that furious stream)? That only the man of wisdom succeeds in crossing this stream and not he that is unwise, is consistent with reason. The former beholds from a distance the merits and faults of everything. (Accordingly, he succeeds in adopting or rejecting what is deserving of adoption or rejection). The man, however, of unstable and little understanding, and whose soul is full of desire and cupidity, is always filled with doubt. Hence the man destitute of wisdom never succeeds in crossing that river. He also who sits inactively (in doubt) can never pass it over. The man destitute of the raft of wisdom, in consequence of his having to bear the heavy weight of great faults, sinks down. One that is seized by the crocodile of desire, even if possessed of knowledge, can never make knowledge one's raft.[904] For these reasons, the man of wisdom and intelligence should strive to float over the stream of Time (without sinking in it). He indeed, succeeds in keeping himself afloat who becomes conversant with Brahma. One born in a noble race, abstaining from the three duties of teaching, officiating at other's sacrifices and accepting gifts, and doing only the three other acts, viz., studying, sacrificing, and giving, should, for those reasons, strive to float over the stream. Such a man is sure to cross it aided by the raft of wisdom. One who is pure in conduct, who is self-restrained and observant of good vows, whose soul is under control, and who is possessed of wisdom, certainly wins success in this and the other world. The Brahmana leading a domestic mode of life should conquer wrath and envy, practise the virtues already named, and worshipping the deities in the five sacrifices, eat after having fed the deities, Pitris, and guests. He should conform to those duties which are observed by the good; he should do all his acts like a person of governed soul; and he should, without injuring any creature, draw his substance by adopting a course that is not censurable. One who is well-versed in the truths of the Vedas and the other branches of knowledge, whose behaviour is like that of a person of well-governed soul, who is endued with a clear vision, who observes those duties that are laid down for his order, who does not, by his acts, produce an inter-mixture of duties, who attends to the observances set down in the scriptures, who is full of faith, who is self-restrained, who is possessed of wisdom, who is destitute of envy and malice, and who is well-conversant with the distinctions between righteousness and inequity, succeeds in crossing all his difficulties. That Brahmana who is possessed of fortitude, who is always heedful, who is self-restrained, who is conversant with righteousness, whose soul is under control, and who has transcended joy, pride, and wrath, has never to languish in grief. This is the course of conduct that was ordained of old for a Brahmana. He should strive for the acquisition of Knowledge, and do all the scriptural acts. By living thus, he is sure to obtain success. One who is not possessed of clear vision does wrong even when one wishes to do right. Such a person, by even exercising his judgment, does such acts of virtue as partake of the nature of inequity. Desiring to do what is right, one does what is wrong. Similarly, desiring to do what is wrong one does what is right. Such a person is a fool. Not knowing the two kinds of acts, one has to undergo repeated rebirths and deaths.'"'" SECTION CCXXXVI "'"Vyasa said, 'If Emancipation be desirable, then knowledge should be acquired. For a person who is borne now up and now down along the stream of Time or life, knowledge is the raft by which he can reach the shore. Those wise men who have arrived at certain conclusions (regarding the character of the soul and that which is called life) by the aid of wisdom, are able to assist the ignorant in crossing the stream of time or life with the raft of knowledge. They, however, that are ignorant, are unable to save either themselves or others. He who has freed himself from desire and all other faults, and who has emancipated himself from all attachments, should attend to these two and ten requirements of yoga, viz., place, acts, affection, objects, means, destruction, certainty, eyes, food, suppression, mind and survey.[905] He who wishes to obtain superior Knowledge, should, by the aid of his understanding, restrain both speech and mind. He who wishes to have tranquillity, should, by the aid of his knowledge, restrain his soul. Whether he becomes compassionate or cruel, whether he becomes conversant with all the Vedas or ignorant of the Richs, whether he becomes righteous and observant of sacrifices or the worst of sinners, whether he becomes eminent for prowess and wealth or plunged into misery, that person who directs his mind towards these (attributes that I have spoken of), is sure to cross the ocean of life which is so difficult to cross. Without speaking of the results of the attainment of Brahma by yoga, it may be said that he who sets himself to only enquiring after the Soul transcends the necessity of observing the acts laid down in the Vedas. The body with jiva within it is an excellent car. When sacrifices and religious rites are made its upastha, shame its varutha, Upaya and Apaya its kuvara, the breath called Apana its aksha, the breath called Prana its yuga, knowledge and the allotted period of existence its points for tying the steeds, heedfulness its handsome vandhura, the assumption of good behaviour its nemi, vision, touch, scent, and hearing its four steeds, wisdom its nabhi, all the scriptures its pratoda, certain knowledge of the scriptural declarations its driver, the soul its firmly-seated rider, faith and self-restraint its fore-runners, renunciation its inseparable companion following behind and bent upon doing it good, purity the path along which it goes, meditation (or union with Brahma) its goal, then may that car reach Brahma and shine there in effulgence.[906] I shall now tell thee the speedy means that should be adopted by the person who would equip his car in such a fashion for passing through this wilderness of the world in order to reach the goal constituted by Brahma that is above decrepitude and destruction. To set the mind upon one thing at a time is called Dharana.[907] The Yogin observing proper vows and restraints, practises in all seven kinds of Dharana. There are, again, as many kinds of Dharanas arising out of these, upon subjects that are near or remote.[908] Through these the Yogin gradually acquires mastery over Earth, Wind, Space, Water, Fire, Consciousness, and Understanding. After this he gradually acquires mastery over the Unmanifest.[909] I shall now describe to thee the conceptions in their order that are realised by particular individuals amongst those that are engaged in yoga according to the rules and ordinances that have been laid down. I shall tell thee also of the nature of the success that attaches to yoga commenced (according to rules) by him who looks within his own self.[910] The Yogin, that abandons his gross body, following the instructions of his preceptor, beholds his soul displaying the following forms in consequence of its subtility. To him in the first stage, the welkin seems to be filled with a subtile substance like foggy vapour.[911] Of the Soul which has been freed from the body, even such becomes the form. When this fog disappears, a second (or new) form becomes visible. For, then, the Yogin beholds within himself, in the firmament of his heart, the form of Water. After the disappearance of water, the form of Fire displays itself. When this disappears, the form that becomes perceivable is that of Wind as effulgent as a well-tempered weapon of high polish. Gradually, the form displayed by Wind becomes like that of the thinnest gossamer. Then having acquired whiteness, and also, the subtlety of air, the Brahman's soul is said to attain the supreme whiteness and subtlety of Ether. Listen to me as I tell thee the consequences of these diverse conditions when they occur. That Yogin who has been able to achieve the conquest of the earth-element, attains by such lordship to the power of Creation. Like a second Prajapati endued with a nature that is perfectly imperturbable, he can from his own body create all kinds of creatures. With only his toe, or with his hand or feet, that person can singly cause the whole Earth to tremble who has achieved the lordship of the Wind. Even this is the attribute of the Wind as declared in the Sruti. The Yogin, who has achieved the lordship of Space, can exist brightly in Space in consequence of his having attained to uniformity with that element, and can also disappear at will. By lordship over Water, one can (like Agastya) drink up rivers, lakes, and oceans. By lordship over Fire, the Yogin becomes so effulgent that his form cannot be looked at. He becomes visible only when he extinguishes his consciousness of individuality,--these five elements come within his sway. When the Understanding, which is the soul of the five elements and of the consciousness of individuality,[912] is conquered the Yogin attains to Omnipotence, and perfect Knowledge (or perception freed from doubt and uncertainty with respect to all things), comes to him. In consequence of this, the Manifest becomes merged into the Unmanifest or Supreme Soul from which the world emanates and becomes what is called Manifest.[913] Listen now to me in detail as I expound the science of the Unmanifest. But first of all listen to me about all that is Manifest as expounded in the Sankhya system of philosophy. In both the Yoga and the Sankhya systems, five and twenty topics of knowledge have been treated in nearly the same way. Listen to me as I mention their chief features. That has been said to be Manifest which is possessed of these four attributes, viz., birth, growth, decay, and death. That which is not possessed of these attributes is said to be Unmanifest. Two souls are mentioned in the Vedas and the sciences that are based upon them. The first (which is called Jivatman) is endued with the four attributes already mentioned, and has a longing for the four objects or purposes (viz., Religion, Wealth, Pleasure and Emancipation). This soul is called Manifest, and it is born of the Unmanifest (Supreme Soul). It is both Intelligent and non-Intelligent. I have thus told thee about Sattwa (inert matter) and Kshetrajna (immaterial spirit). Both kinds of Soul, it is said in the Vedas, become attached to objects of the senses. The doctrine of the Sankhyas is that one should keep oneself aloof or dissociated from objects of the senses. That Yogin who is freed from attachment and pride, who transcends all pairs of opposites, such as pleasure and pain, heat and cold, etc., who never gives way to wrath or hate, who never speaks an untruth, who, though slandered or struck, still shows friendship for the slanderer or the striker, who never thinks of doing ill to others, who restrains the three, viz., speech, acts, and mind, and who behaves uniformly towards all creatures, succeeds in approaching the presence of Brahman. That person who cherishes no desire for earthly objects, who is not unwilling to take what comes, who is dependent on earthly objects to only that extent which is necessary for sustaining life, who is free from cupidity, who has driven off all grief, who has restrained his senses, who goes through all necessary acts, who is regardless of personal appearance and attire, whose senses are all collected (for devotion to the true objects of life), whose purposes are never left unaccomplished,[914] who bears himself with equal friendliness towards all creatures, who regards a clod of earth and a lump of gold with an equal eye, who is equally disposed towards friend and foe, who is possessed of patience, who takes praise and blame equally,[915] who is free from longing with respect to all objects of desire, who practises Brahmacharya, and who is firm and steady in all his vows and observances, who has no malice or envy for any creature in the universe, is a Yogin who according to the Sankhya system succeeds in winning Emancipation. Listen now to the way and the means by which a person may win Emancipation through Yoga (or the system of Patanjali). That person who moves and acts after having transcended the puissance that the practice of Yoga brings about (in the initial stages), succeeds in winning Emancipation.[916] I have thus discoursed to thee on those topics (viz., Emancipation according to the Sankhya system and that according to the Yoga system) which are dissimilar if the speaker be disposed to treat them as such (but which in reality, are one and the same).[917] Thus can one transcend all pairs of opposites. Thus can one attain to Brahma.'"'"[918] SECTION CCXXXVII "'"Vyasa said, 'Borne up and down in life's ocean, he that is capable of meditation seizes the raft of Knowledge and for achieving his Emancipation adheres to Knowledge itself (without extending his arms hither and thither for catching any other support).'[919] "'"Suka said, 'What is that Knowledge? Is it that learning by which, when error is dispelled, the truth becomes discovered? Or, is it that course of duties consisting of acts to be done or achieved, by the aid of which the object sought may be understood or attained? Or, is it that course of duties, called abstention from acts, by which an extension of the Soul is to be sought? Do tell me what it is, so that by its aid, the two, viz., birth and death, may be avoided.'[920] "'"Vyasa said, 'That fool who believing that all this exists in consequence of its own nature without, in fact, an existent refuge or foundation, fills by such instruction the aspirations of disciples, dispelling by his dialectical ingenuity the reasons the latter might urge to the contrary, succeeds not in attaining to any truth.[921] They again who firmly believe that all Cause is due to the nature of things, fail to acquire any truth by even listening to (wiser) men or the Rishis (who are capable of instructing them).[922] Those men of little intelligence who stop (in their speculations), having adopted either of these doctrines, indeed, those men who regard nature as the cause, never succeed in obtaining any benefit for themselves.[923] This belief in Nature (as the producing and the sustaining Cause), arising as it does from a mind acting under the influence of error, brings about the destruction of the person who cherishes it. Listen now to the truth with respect to these two doctrines that maintain (1) that things exist by their own nature and (2) that they flow (in consequence of their own nature) from others that are different from and that precede them.[924] Wise men apply themselves to agriculture and tillage, and the acquisition of crops (by those means) and of vehicles (for locomotion) and seats and carpets and houses. They attend also to the laying of pleasure-gardens, the construction of commodious mansions, and the preparation of medicines, for diseases of every kind. It is wisdom (which consists in the application of means) that leads to the fruition of purposes. It is wisdom that wins beneficial results. It is wisdom that enables kings to exercise and enjoy sovereignty although they are possessed of attributes equal to those of persons over whom they rule.[925] It is by wisdom that the high and the low among beings are distinguished. It is by wisdom that the superior and the inferior ones among created objects are understood. It is wisdom or knowledge that is the highest refuge of all things.[926] All the diverse kinds of created things have four kinds of birth. They are viviparous, oviparous, vegetables, and those born of filth. Creatures, again, that are mobile should be known to be superior to those that are immobile. It is consistent with reason that intelligent energy, inasmuch as it differentiates (all non-intelligent matter), should be regarded as superior to (non-intelligent) matter.[927] Mobile creatures, that are innumerable, are of two kinds, viz., those that have many legs and those that have two. The latter, however, are superior to the former. Bipeds, again are of two species, viz., those that live on land and those that are otherwise. Of these, the former are superior to the latter. The superior ones eat diverse kinds of cooked food.[928] Bipeds moving on land are of two kinds viz., middling or intermediate, and those that are foremost. Of these, the middling or intermediate are regarded as superior (to the former) in consequence of their observance of the duties of caste.[929] The middling or intermediate ones are said to be of two kinds, viz., those that are conversant with duties, and those that are otherwise. Of those, the former are superior in consequence of their discrimination in respect of what should be done and what should not. Those conversant with duties are said to be of two kinds, viz., those that are acquainted with the Vedas and those that are otherwise. Of these the former are superior, for the Vedas are said to dwell in them.[930] Those that are acquainted with the Vedas are said to be of two kinds, viz., those that lecture on the Vedas and those that are otherwise. Of these, the former, who are fully conversant with the Vedas, with the duties and the rites laid down in them, and the fruits of those duties and rites, are superior in consequence of their publishing all those duties and rites. Indeed, all the Vedas with the duties laid down in them are said to flow from them. Preceptors of the Vedas are of two kinds, viz., those that are conversant with the Soul and those that are otherwise. Of these, the former are superior in consequence of their knowledge of what is meant by Birth and Death.[931] As regards duties, they are, again, of two kinds (viz., Pravritti and Nivritti). He who is conversant with duties is said to be omniscient or possessed of universal knowledge. Such a man is a Renouncer. Such a man is firm in the accomplishment of his purposes. Such a man is truthful, pure (both outwardly and inwardly), and possessed of puissance.[932] The gods know him for a Brahmana who is devoted to knowledge of Brahma (and not him who is conversant with only the duties of Pravritti). Such a man is versed also in the Vedas and earnestly devoted to the study of the Soul.[933] They that have true knowledge behold their own Soul as existing both in and out. Such men, O child, are truly regenerate and such men are gods.[934] Upon these rests this world of Beings, in them dwell this whole universe. There is nothing that is equal to their greatness. Transcending birth and death and distinctions and acts of every kind, they are the lords of the four kinds of creatures and are the equals of the Self-born himself.'"'"[935] SECTION CCXXXVIII "'"Vyasa said, 'These, then, are the obligatory acts ordained for Brahmanas. One possessed of knowledge always attains to success by going through (the prescribed) acts. If no doubt arises in respect of acts, then acts done are sure to lead to success. The doubt to which we refer is this: whether acts are obligatory or whether they are optional.[936] As regards this (doubt about the true character of acts, it should be said that), if acts are ordained for man for inducing knowledge (by which alone Brahma or Emancipation is to be attained, even then) they should be regarded as obligatory (and not optional). I shall now discourse on them by the light of inferences and experience. Listen to me.[937] With respect to acts some men say that Exertion is their cause. Others say that Necessity is their cause. Others, again, maintain that Nature is the cause. Some say that acts are the result of both Exertion and Necessity. Some maintain that acts flow from Time, Exertion, and Nature. Some say that of the three (viz., Exertion, Necessity, and Nature), one only (and not the other two) is the cause. Some are of opinion that all the three combined are the cause.[938] Some persons that are engaged in the performance of acts say, with respect to all objects, that they exist, that they do not exist, that they cannot be said to exist, that they cannot be said not to exist, that it is not that they cannot be said to exist, and lastly, that it is not that they cannot be said not to exist. (These then are the diverse views entertained by men). They, however, that are Yogins, behold Brahma to be the universal cause. The men of the Treta, the Dwapara, and the Kali Yugas are inspired with doubts. The men, however, of the Krita Yuga are devoted to penances, possessed of tranquil souls, and observant of righteousness.[939] In that age all men regard the Richs, the Samans, and the Yajuses as identical not withstanding their apparent diversity. Analysing desire and aversion, they worship only penance.[940] Devoted to the practice of penances, steadfast in them, and rigid in their observance, one obtains the fruition of all desires by penances alone. By penance one attains to that by becoming which one creates the universe. By penance one becomes that in consequence of which one becomes the puissant master of all things.[941] That Brahma has been expounded in the declarations of the Vedas. For all that, Brahma is inconceivable by even those that are conversant with those declarations. Once more has Brahma been declared in the Vedanta. Brahma, however, cannot be beheld by means of acts.[942] The sacrifice ordained for Brahmans consists in japa (meditation and recitation), that for Kshatriyas consists in the slaughter of (clean) animals for the gratification of the deities; that for Vaisyas consists in the production of crops and the keep of domestic animals; and that for Sudras in menial service of the three other orders. By observing the duties laid down for him and by studying the Vedas and other scriptures, one becomes a Dwija (regenerate). Whether one does any other act or not, one becomes a Brahmana by becoming the friend of all creatures.[943] In the beginning of Treta, the Vedas and sacrifices and the divisions of caste and the several modes of life existed in their entirety. In consequence, however, of the duration of life being decreased in Dwapara, those are overtaken by decline. In the Dwapara age as also in the Kali, the Vedas are overtaken by perplexity. Towards the close of Kali again, it is doubtful if they ever become even visible to the eye.[944] In that age, the duties of the respective order disappear, and men become afflicted by iniquity. The juicy attributes of kine, of the earth, of water, and (medicinal and edible) herbs, disappear.[945] Through (universal) iniquity the Vedas disappear and with them all the duties inculcated in them as also the duties in respect of the four modes of life. They who remain observant of the duties of their own order become afflicted, and all mobile and immobile objects undergo a change for the worse.[946] As the showers of heaven cause all products of the earth to grow, after the same manner the Vedas, in every age, cause all the angas to grow.[947] Without doubt, Time assumes diverse shapes. It has neither beginning nor end. It is Time which produces all creatures and again devours them. I have already spoken of it to thee. Time is the origin of all creatures; Time is that which makes them grow; Time is that which is their destroyer; and lastly it is time that is their ruler. Subject to pairs of opposites (such as heat and cold, pleasure and pain, etc.), creatures of infinite variety rest on Time according to their own natures (without being otherwise than how they have been ordained by supreme Brahma).'"'"[948] SECTION CCXXXIX "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed (by his sire), Suka, highly applauding these instructions of the great Rishi, set himself about asking the following question relating to the import of duties that lead to Emancipation. "'"Suka said, 'By what means doth one possessed of wisdom, conversant with the Vedas, observant of sacrifices, endued with wisdom, and free from malice, succeed in attaining to Brahma which is incapable of being apprehended by either direct evidence or inference, and unsusceptible of being indicated by the Vedas? Asked by me, tell me by what means is Brahma to be apprehended? Is it by penance, by Brahmacharya, by renunciation of everything, by intelligence, by the aid of the Sankhya philosophy, or by Yoga? By what means may what kind of singleness of purpose be attained by men, with respect to both, viz., the mind and the senses? It behoveth thee to expound all this to me.'[949] "'"Vyasa said, 'No man ever attains to success by means other than the acquisition of knowledge, the practice of penances, the subjugation of the senses, and renunciation of everything.[950] The great entities (five in number) represent the first (or initial) creation of the Self-born. They have been very largely placed in embodied creatures included in the world of life.[951] The bodies of all embodied creatures are derived from earth. The humours are from water. Their eyes are said to be derived from light. Prana, Apana (and the three other vital breaths) have the wind for their refuge. And, lastly, all unoccupied apertures within them (such as the nostrils, the cavities of the ear, etc.) are of Space. In the feet (of living creatures) is Vishnu. In their arms is Indra. Within the stomach is Agni desirous of eating. In the ears are the points of the horizon (or the compass) representing the sense of hearing. In the tongue is speech which is Saraswati.[952] The ears, skin, eyes, tongue and nose forming the fifth, are said to be the sense of knowledge. These exist for the purposes of apprehension of their respective objects. Sound, touch, form, taste and scent forming the fifth, are the objects of the (five) senses. These should always be regarded as separate from (or independent of) the senses. Like the charioteer setting his well-broken steeds along the paths he pleases, the mind sets the senses (along directions it pleases). The mind, in its turn, is employed by the knowledge sitting in the heart.[953] The mind is the lord of all these senses in respect of employing them in their functions and guiding or restraining them. Similarly, the knowledge is the lord of the mind (in employing, and guiding or restraining it).[954] The senses, the objects of the senses, the attributes of those objects represented by the word nature, knowledge, mind, the vital breaths, and Jiva dwell in the bodies of all embodied creatures.[955] The body within which the knowledge dwells has no real existence. The body, therefore, is not the refuge of the knowledge. Primordial Nature (Prakriti) having the three attributes (of Goodness and Passion and Darkness) is the refuge of the knowledge which exists only in the form of a sound. The Soul also is not the refuge of the knowledge. It is Desire that creates the knowledge. Desire, however, never creates the three attributes.[956] The man of wisdom, capable of subduing his senses, beholds the seventeenth, viz., the Soul, as surrounded by six and ten attributes, in his own knowledge by the aid of the mind. The Soul cannot be beheld with the aid of the eye or with that of all the senses. Transcending all, the Soul becomes visible by only the light of the mind's lamp. Divested of the properties of sound and touch and form, without taste and scent, indestructible and without a body (either gross or subtile) and without senses, it is nevertheless beheld within the body. Unmanifest and supreme, it dwells in all mortal bodies. Following the lead of the preceptor and the Vedas, he who beholds it hereafter becomes Brahma's self. They that are possessed of wisdom look with an equal eye upon a Brahmana possessed of knowledge and disciples, a cow, an elephant, a dog, and a Chandala.[957] Transcending all things, the Soul dwells in all creatures mobile and immobile. Indeed, all things are pervaded by it.[958] When a living creature beholds his own Soul in all things, and all things in his own Soul, he is said to attain to Brahma. One occupies that much of the Supreme Soul as is commensurate with what is occupied in one's own soul by Vedic sound.[959] He that can always realise the identity of all things with his own self certainly attains to immortality. The very gods are stupefied in the track of that trackless man who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures, who is engaged in the good of all beings, and who desire to attain to (Brahma which is) the final refuge (of all things).[960] Indeed, the track which is pursued by men of knowledge is as visible as that of birds in the sky or of fish in water. Time of its own power, cooks all entities within itself. No one, however, knows That in which Time, in its turn, is itself cooked.[961] That (of which I speak) does not occur above, or in the middle or below, or in transverse or in any other direction. That is no tangible entity; it is not to be found in any place.[962] All these worlds are within That. There is nothing in these worlds that exists out of that. Even if one goes on ceaselessly with the celerity of a shaft impelled from the bow-string, even if one goes on with the speed of the mind itself, one would not still reach the end of that which is the cause of all this.[963] That is so gross that there is nothing grosser. His hands and feet extend everywhere. His eyes, head, and face are everywhere. His ears are everywhere in the universe. He exists overwhelming all things. That is minuter than the minutest, that is the heart of all entities. Existing, without doubt, that is still imperceptible. Indestructible and destructible,--these are the dual forms of existence of the (Supreme) Soul. In all mobile and immobile entities the existence it displays is destructible; while the existence it displays in Chaitanya is celestial, immortal, and indestructible. Though the lord of a existent beings both mobile and immobile, though inactive and divested of attributes, it enters, nevertheless, the well-known mansion of nine doors and becomes engaged in action.[964] Men of wisdom who are capable of beholding the other shore say that the Unborn (or the Supreme Soul) becomes invested with the attribute of action in consequence of motion, pleasure and pain, variety of form, and the nine well-known possessions.[965] That indestructible Soul which is said to be invested with the attribute of action is nothing else than that indestructible Soul which is said to be inactive. A person of knowledge, by attaining to that indestructible essence, gives up for good both life and birth.'"'"[966] SECTION CCXL "'"Vyasa said, 'O excellent son, asked by thee, I have told thee truly what the answer to thy question should be according to the doctrine of knowledge as expounded in the Sankhya system. Listen now to me as I expound to thee all that should be done (for the same end) according to the Yoga doctrine. The uniting together of Intellect and Mind, and all the Senses, and the all-pervading Soul is said to be Knowledge of the foremost kind. That Knowledge should be acquired (through the preceptor's aid) by one that is of a tranquil disposition, that has mastered his senses, that is capable (by meditation) of turning his gaze on the Soul, that takes a pleasure in (such) meditation, that is endued with intelligence and pure in acts. One should seek to acquire this Knowledge by abandoning those five impediments of Yoga which are known to the wise, viz., desire, wrath, cupidity, fear, and sleep. Wrath is conquered by tranquillity of disposition. Desire is conquered by giving up all purposes. By reflecting with the aid of the understanding upon topics worthy of reflection,[967] one endued with patience succeeds in abandoning sleep. By steady endurance one should restrain one's organs of generation and the stomach (from unworthy or sinful indulgence). One should protect one's hands and feet by (using) one's eyes. One should protect one's eyes and ears by the aid of one's mind, one's mind and speech by one's acts. One should avoid fear by heedfulness, and pride by waiting upon the wise. Subduing procrastination, one should, by these means, subdue these impediments of Yoga. One should pay one's adorations to fire and the Brahmanas, and one should bow one's head to the deities. One should avoid all kinds of inauspicious discourse, and speech that is fraught with malice, and words that are painful to other minds. Brahma is the effulgent seed (of everything). It is, again, the essence of that seed whence is all this.[968] Brahma became the eye, in the form of this mobile and immobile universe, of all entities that took birth.[969] Meditation, study, gift, truth, modesty, simplicity, forgiveness, purity of body, purity of conduct, subjugation of the senses, these enhance one's energy, which (when enhanced) destroys one's sins. By behaving equally towards all creatures and by living in contentment upon what is acquired easily and without effort, one attains to the fruition of all one's objects and succeeds in obtaining knowledge. Cleansed of all sins, endued with energy, abstemious in diet, with senses under complete control, one should, after having subdued both desire and wrath, seek to attain to Brahma.[970] Firmly uniting the senses and the mind (having drawn them away from all external objects) with gaze fixed inwards, one should, in the still hours of evening or in those before dawn, place one's mind upon the knowledge. If even one of the five senses of a human being be kept unrestrained, all his wisdom may be seen to escape through it like water through an unstopped hole at the bottom of a leathern bag. The mind in the first instance should be sought to be restrained by the Yogin after the manner of a fisherman seeking at the outset to render that one among the fish powerless from which there is the greatest danger to his nets. Having first subdued the mind, the Yogin should then proceed to subdue his ears, then his eyes, then his tongue, and then his nose. Having restrained these, he should fix them on the mind. Then withdrawing the mind from all purposes, he should fix it on the knowledge. Indeed, having restrained the five senses, the Yati should fix them on the mind. When these the mind for their sixth become concentrated in the knowledge, and thus concentrated remain steady and untroubled, then Brahma becomes perceptible like a smokeless fire of blazing flames or the Sun of effulgent radiance. Indeed, one then beholds in oneself one's soul like lightning fire in the skies. Everything then appears in it and it appears in everything in consequence of its infinitude. Those high-souled Brahmanas that are possessed of wisdom, that are endued with fortitude, that are possessed of high knowledge, and that are engaged in the good of all creatures, succeed in beholding it. Engaged in the observance of austere vows, the Yogin who conducts himself thus for six months, seated by himself on an isolated spot, succeeds in attaining to an equality with the Indestructible.[971] Annihilation, extension, power to present varied aspects in the same person or body, celestial scents, and sounds, and sights, the most agreeable sensations of taste and touch, pleasurable sensations of coolness and warmth, equality with the wind, capability of understanding (by inward light) the meaning of scriptures and every work of genius, companionship of celestial damsels,--acquiring all these by Yoga the Yogin should disregard them and merge them all in the knowledge.[972] Restraining speech and the senses one should practise Yoga during the hours after dusk, the hours before dawn, and at dawn of day, seated on a mountain summit, or at the foot of a goodly tree, or with a tree before him.[973] Restraining all the senses within the heart, one should, with faculties concentrated, think on the Eternal and Indestructible like a man of the world thinking of wealth and other valuable possessions. One should never, while practising Yoga, withdraw one's mind from it. One should with devotion betake oneself to those means by which one may succeed in restraining the mind that is very restless. One should never permit oneself to fall away from it. With the senses and the mind withdrawn from everything else, the Yogin (for practice) should betake himself to empty caves of mountains, to temples consecrated to the deities, and to empty houses or apartments, for living there. One should not associate with another in either speech, act, or thought. Disregarding all things, and eating very abstemiously, the Yogin should look with an equal eye upon objects acquired or lost. He should behave after the same manner towards one that praises and one that censures him. He should not seek the good or the evil of one or the other. He should not rejoice at an acquisition or suffer anxiety when he meets with failure or loss. Of uniform behaviour towards all beings, he should imitate the wind.[974] Unto one whose mind is thus turned to itself, who leads a life of purity, and who casts an equal eye upon all things,--indeed, unto one who is ever engaged in Yoga thus for even six months,--Brahma as represented by sound appears very vividly.[975] Beholding all men afflicted with anxiety (on account of earning wealth and comfort), the Yogin should view a clod of earth, a piece of stone, and a lump of gold with an equal eye. Indeed, he should withdraw himself from this path (of earning wealth), cherishing an aversion for it, and never suffer himself to be stupefied. Even if a person happens to belong to the inferior order, even if one happens to be a woman, both of them, by following in the track indicated above, will surely attain to the highest end.[976] He that has subdued his mind beholds in his own self, by the aid of his own knowledge the Uncreate, Ancient, Undeteriorating, and Eternal Brahma,--That, viz., which can not be attained to except by fixed senses,--That which is subtiler than the most subtile, and grosser than the most gross, and which is Emancipation's self.'"[977] "'Bhishma continued, "By ascertaining from the mouths of preceptors and by themselves reflecting with their minds upon these words of the great and high-souled Rishi spoken so properly, persons possessed of wisdom attain to that equality (about which the scriptures say) with Brahman himself, till, indeed, the time when the universal dissolution comes that swallows up all existent beings."'"[978] SECTION CCXLI "'"Suka said, 'The declarations of the Vedas are twofold. They once lay down the command, "Do all acts." They also indicate (the reverse, saying), "Give up acts." I ask, "Whither do persons go by the aid of Knowledge and whither by the aid of acts?"[979] I desire to hear this. Do tell me this. Indeed, these declarations about knowledge and acts are dissimilar and even contradictory.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, the son of Parasara said these words unto his son, 'I shall expound to thee the two paths, viz., the destructible and the indestructible, depending respectively upon acts and knowledge. Listen with concentrated attention, O child, to me, as I tell thee the place that is reached by one with the aid of knowledge, and that other place which is reached with the aid of acts. The difference between these two places is as great as the limitless sky. The question that thou hast asked me has given me such pain as an atheistic discourse gives to a man of faith. These are the two paths upon which the Vedas are established; the duties (acts) indicated by Pravritti, and those based on Nivritti that have been treated of so excellently.[980] By acts, a living creature is destroyed. By knowledge, however, he becomes emancipated. For this reason, Yogins who behold the other side of the ocean of life never betake themselves to acts. Through acts one is forced to take rebirth, after death, with a body composed of the six and ten ingredients. Through knowledge, however, one becomes transformed into that which is Eternal, Unmanifest, and Immutable. One class of persons that are however of little intelligence, applaud acts. In consequence of this they have to assume bodies (one after another) ceaselessly. Those men whose perceptions are keen in respect of duties and who have attained to that high understanding (which leads to knowledge), never applaud acts even as persons that depend for their drinking water upon the supply of streams never applaud wells and tanks. The fruit that one obtains of acts consists of pleasure and pain, of existence and non-existence. By knowledge, one attains to that whither there is no occasion for grief; whither one becomes freed from both birth and death; whither one is not subject to decrepitude; whither one transcends the state of conscious existence,[981] whither is Brahma which is Supreme, Unmanifest, immutable, ever-existent, imperceptible, above the reach of pain, immortal, and transcending destruction; whither all become freed from the influence of all pairs of opposites (like pleasure and pain, etc.), as also of wish or purpose.[982] Reaching that stage, they cast equal eyes on everything, become universal friends and devoted to the good of all creatures. There is a wide gulf, O son, between one devoted to knowledge and one devoted to acts. Know that the man of knowledge, without undergoing destruction, remains existent for ever like the moon on the last day of the dark fortnight existing in a subtle (but undestroyed) form. The great Rishi (Yajnavalkya in Vrihadaranayaka) has said this more elaborately. As regards the man devoted to acts, his nature may be inferred from beholding the new-born moon which appears like a bent thread in the firmament.[983] Know, O son, that the person of acts takes rebirth with a body with eleven entities, for its ingredients, that are the results of modification, and with a subtile form that represents a total of six and ten.[984] The deity who takes refuge in that (material) form, like a drop of water on a lotus leaf, should be known as Kshetrajna (Soul), which is Eternal, and which succeeds by Yoga in transcending both the mind and the knowledge.[985] Tamas, Rajas, and Sattwa are the attributes of the knowledge. The knowledge is the attribute of the individual soul residing within the body. The individual soul, in its turn, comes from the Supreme Soul.[986] The body with the soul is said to be the attribute of jiva. It is jiva that acts and causes all bodies to live. He who has created the seven worlds is said by those that are acquainted with what is Kshetra (and what is Kshetrajna) to be above jiva.'"'" SECTION CCXLII "'"Suka said, 'I have now understood that there are two kinds of creation, viz., one commencing with Kshara (which is universal), and which is from the (universal) Soul. The other, consisting of the senses with their objects, is traceable to the puissance of the knowledge. This last transcends the other and is regarded to be the foremost.[987] I desire, however, to once more hear of that course of righteousness which runs in this world, regulated by the virtue of Time and according to which all good men frame their conduct.[988] In the Vedas there are both kinds of declarations, viz., do acts and avoid acts. How shall I succeed in ascertaining the propriety of this or that? It behoveth thee to expound this clearly.[989] Having obtained, through thy instructions, a thorough knowledge of the course of conduct of human beings, having purified myself by the practice of only righteousness, and having cleansed my understanding, I shall, after casting off my body, behold the indestructible Soul.'[990] "'"Vyasa said, 'The course of conduct that was first established by Brahma himself was duly observed by the wise and pious persons of old, viz., the great Rishis of ancient times. The great Rishis conquer all the worlds by the practice of Brahmacharya. Seeking all things that are good for himself by fixing the mind on the knowledge,[991] practising severe austerities by residing in the forest and subsisting on fruits and roots, by treading on sacred spots, by practising universal benevolence, and by going on his rounds of mendicancy at the proper time to the huts of forest recluses when these become smokeless and the sound of the husking rod is hushed, a person succeeds in attaining to Brahma.[992] Abstaining from flattery and from bowing thy heads to others, and avoiding both good and evil, live thou in the forest by thyself, appeasing hunger by any means that comes by the way.' "'"Suka said, 'The declarations of the Vedas (already referred to in respect of acts) are, in the opinion of the vulgar, contradictory. Whether this is authoritative or that is so, when there is this conflict, how can they be said to be scriptural?[993] I desire to hear this: how can both be regarded as authoritative? How, indeed, can Emancipation be obtained without violating the ordinance about the obligatory character of acts?'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, the son of Gandhavati, viz., the Rishi, applauding these words of his son possessed of immeasurable energy, replied unto him, saying the following. "'"Vyasa said, 'One that is a Brahmacharin, one that leads a life of domesticity, one that is a forest recluse, and one that leads a life of (religious) mendicancy, all reach the same high end by duly observing the duties of their respective modes of life. Or, if one and the same person, freed from desire and aversion, practises (one after another) all these four modes of life according to the ordinances that have been laid down, he is certainly fitted (by such conduct) to understand Brahma. The four modes of life constitute a ladder or flight of steps. That flight is attached to Brahma. By ascending that flight one succeeds in reaching the region of Brahma. For the fourth part of his life, the Brahmacharin, conversant with the distinctions of duty and freed from malice, should live with his preceptor or his preceptor's son. While residing in the preceptor's house, he should go to bed after the preceptor has gone to his, and rise therefrom before the preceptor rises from his.[994] All such acts again as should be done by the disciple, as also those which should be done by a menial servant, should be accomplished by him. Finishing these he should humbly take his stand by the side of the preceptor. Skilled in every kind of work, he should conduct himself like a menial servant, doing every act for his preceptor. Having accomplished all acts (without leaving any portion undone), he should study, sitting at the feet of his preceptor, with eager desire to learn. He should always behave with simplicity, avoid evil speech, and take lessons only when his preceptor invites him for it.[995] Becoming pure in body and mind, and acquiring cleverness and other virtues, he should now and then speak what is agreeable. Subduing his senses, he should look at his preceptor without eyes of longing curiosity.[996] He should never eat before his preceptor has eaten; never drink before his preceptor has drunk; never sit down before his preceptor has sat down; and never go to bed before his preceptor has gone to bed. He should gently touch his preceptor's feet with upturned palms, the right foot with the right and the left with the left. Reverentially saluting the preceptor, he should say unto him, "O illustrious one, teach me. I shall accomplish this (work), O illustrious one! This (other work) I have already accomplished. O regenerate one, I am ready to accomplish whatever else thy reverend self may be pleased to command." Having said all this, and having duly offered himself unto him (thus), he should accomplish whatever acts of his preceptor wait for accomplishment, and having completed them inform the preceptor once more of their completion. Whatever scents or tastes the Brahmacharin may abstain from while actually leading a life of Brahmacharya may be used by him after his return from the preceptor's abode. This is consistent with the ordinance. Whatever observances have been elaborately laid down for Brahmacharins (in the scriptures) should all be regularly practised by him. He should, again, be always near his preceptor (ready within call). Having contributed to his preceptor's gratification in this way to the best of his powers, the disciple should, from that mode of life, pass into the others (one after another) and practise the duties of each. Having (thus) passed a fourth part of his life in the study of the Vedas, and observance of vows and fasts, and having given the preceptor the (final) fee, the disciple should, according to the ordinance, take his leave and return home (for entering into a life of domesticity).[997] Then, having taken spouses, obtaining them in the ways indicated in the ordinances, and having carefully established the domestic fire, he should, observant all the while of vows and fasts, become a house-holder and pass the second period of life.'"'" SECTION CCXLIII "'"Vyasa said, 'Observant of meritorious vows, the householder, for the second period of life, should dwell in his house, having taken spouses according to the ways indicated in the ordinance and having established a fire (of his own). As regards the domestic mode of life, four kinds of conduct have been laid down by the learned. The first consists of keeping a store of grain sufficient to last for three years. The second consists of keeping a store to last for one year. The third consists of providing for the day without thinking of the morrow. The fourth consists of collecting grain after the manner of the pigeon.[998] Of these, each succeeding one is superior in point of merit to that which precedes it, according to what has been laid down in the scriptures.[999] A householder observing the first kind of conduct may practise all the six well-known duties (viz., sacrifice on his own account, sacrifice on that of others, teaching, learning, making gifts, and accepting gifts). He who observes the second kind of conduct should practise three only, of these duties (viz., learning, giving, and taking). He who observes the third kind of conduct should practise only two of the duties of domesticity (viz., learning and giving). The householder practising the fourth kind of domesticity should observe only one duty (viz., learning the scriptures). The duties of the householder are all said to be exceedingly meritorious. The householder should never cook any food for only his own use; nor should he slaughter animals (for food) except in sacrifices.[1000] If it be an animal which the householder desires to kill (for food), or if it be a tree which he wishes to cut down (for fuel), he should do either act according to the ritual laid down in the Yajuses for that much is due to both animate and inanimate existences. The house-holder should never sleep during the day, or during the first part of the night, or during the last part thereof. He should never eat twice between morning and evening, and should never summon his wife to bed except in her season. In his house, no Brahmana should be suffered to remain unfed or unworshipped. He should always worship such guests as are presenters of sacrificial offerings, as are cleansed by Vedic lore and observance of excellent vows, as are high-born and conversant with the scriptures, as are observers of the duties of their own order, as are self-restrained, mindful of all religious acts, and devoted to penances. The scriptures ordain that what is offered to the deities and the Pitris in sacrifices and religious rites is meant for the service of guests like these. In this mode of life the scriptures ordain that a share of the food (that is cooked) should be given unto every creature (irrespective of his birth or character), unto one, that is, who for the sake of show keeps his nails and beard, unto one who from pride displays what his own (religious) practices are, unto one who has improperly abandoned his sacred fire, and even unto one who has injured his preceptor. One leading a domestic mode of life should give (food) unto Brahmacharins and Sannyasins. The householder should every day become an eater of vighasa, and should every day eat amrita. Mixed with clarified butter, the remains of the food that is offered in sacrifices constitute amrita. That householder who eats after having fed (all relatives and) servants is said to eat vighasa. The food that remains after the servants have been fed is called vighasa, and that which is left after the presentation of sacrificial offerings is called amrita. One leading a domestic mode of life should be content with his own wedded wife. He should be self-restrained. He should avoid malice and subdue his senses. He should never quarrel with his Ritwik, Purohita, and preceptor, with his maternal uncle, guests and dependants, with the aged and the young in years, with those that are afflicted with diseases, with those that practise as physicians, with kinsmen, relatives, and friends, with his parents, with women that belong to his own paternal family, with his brother and son and wife, with his daughter, and with his servants. By avoiding disputes with these, the householder becomes cleansed of all sins. By conquering such disputes, he succeeds in conquering all the regions of felicity (in the world hereafter). There is no doubt in this.[1001] The preceptor (if duly reverenced) is able to lead one to the regions of Brahman. The father (if reverenced) can lead to the regions of Prajapati. The guest is puissant enough to lead to the region of Indra. The Ritwik has power in respect of the regions of the deities. Female relatives of the paternal line have lordship in respect of the regions of the Apsaras, and kinsmen (by blood), in respect of the region of the Viswedevas. Relatives by marriage and collateral kinsmen have power in respect of the several quarters of the horizon (viz., north, etc.), and the mother and the maternal uncle have power over the earth. The old, the young, the afflicted, the wasted have power over the sky.[1002] The eldest brother is like unto the sire himself (to all his younger brothers). The wife and the son are one's own body. One's menial servants are one's own shadow. The daughter is an object of great affection. For these reason, a house-holder endued with learning, observant of duties, and possessed of endurance, should bear, without warmth or anxiety of heart every kind of annoyance and even censure from the last named relatives. No righteous household should do any act, urged by considerations of wealth. There are three courses of duty in respect of a life of domesticity. Of these, that which comes next (in the order of enumeration) is more meritorious than the preceding one.[1003] As regards the four (principal) modes of life also, the same rule of merit applies, viz., the one that comes after is superior to the one preceding it. Accordingly, domesticity is superior to Brahmacharya, forest life is superior to domesticity, and a life of mendicancy or complete renunciation is superior to a forest life. One desirous of prosperity should accomplish all those duties and rites that have been ordained in the scriptures in respect of those modes. That kingdom grows in prosperity where these highly deserving persons live, viz., those that lead a life of domesticity according to the Kumbhadhanya method, they that lead it according to the Unchha method, and they that lead it according to the Kapoti method.[1004] That man who cheerfully leads a life of domesticity in the observance of those duties, succeeds in sanctifying ten generations of his ancestors above and ten generations of descendants below. A householder, duly observing the duties of domesticity, obtains an end that yields felicity equal to what occurs in the regions attained by great kings and emperors. Even this is the end that has been ordained for those who have subdued their senses. For all high-souled householders heaven has been ordained. That heaven is equipped with delightful cars for each (moving at the will of the rider). Even that is the delightful heaven indicated in the Vedas. For all householders of restrained souls, the regions of heaven constitute the high reward. The Self-born Brahman ordained that the domestic mode of life should be the productive cause of heaven. And since it has been so ordained, a person, by gradually attaining to the second mode of life, obtains happiness and respect in heaven. After this comes that high and superior mode of life, called the third, for those that are desirous of casting off their bodies. Superior to that of householders, that is the life of forest recluses,--of those, that is, who waste their bodies (by diverse kinds of austerities) into skeletons overlaid with dried skins. Listen as I discourse to thee upon it.'"'" SECTION CCXLIV "'Bhishma said, "Though hast been told what the duties of domesticity are as ordained by the wise. Listen now, O Yudhishthira, to what those duties are that have been next spoken of. Gradually abandoning the domestic mode, one should enter the third mode which is excellent. It is the mode in which wives afflict themselves by means of Austerities. It is the mode practised by those that live as forest recluses. Blessed be thou, O son, listen to the duties observed by those that lead this mode of life in which occur the practices of all men and all modes of life. Listen, indeed, to the duties of those that are denizens of sacred spots and that have resorted to this mode after proper deliberation! "'"Vyasa said, 'When the householder beholds wrinkles on his body and white hair on his head, and children of his children, he should then retire into the forest. The third part of his life he should pass in the observance of the Vanaprastha mode. He should attend to those fires to which he had attended as a householder. Desirous of sacrificing, he should adore the deities (according to the rituals ordained). Observant of vows and abstemious in diet, he should eat only once, the time thereof being the sixth part of the day. He should be always heedful. Attending to his fires, he should keep some kine, waiting upon them dutifully.[1005] He should attend to all the rituals of a sacrifice. He should live upon rice growing indigenously, upon wheat growing under similar circumstances, upon grain of other kinds, growing wildly (and belonging to none). He should eat what remains after feeding guests. In this the third mode of life, he should present offerings of clarified butter in the five well-known Sacrifices.[1006] Four kinds of courses of conduct have been laid down for observance in the Vanaprastha mode of life. Some collect only what is needed for the day. Some collect stores to last for a month. Some store grain and other necessaries sufficient to last for twelve years. Forest recluses may act in these ways for worshipping guests and performing sacrifices. They should during the season of the rains, expose themselves to rain and betake themselves to water during the autumn. During the summer they should sit in the midst of four fires with the sun burning overhead. Throughout the year, however, they should be abstemious in diet.[1007] They sit and sleep on the bare earth. They stand on only their toes. They content themselves with the bare earth and with small mats of grass (owning no other furniture for seat or bed). They perform their ablutions morning, noon, and evening (preparatory to sacrifices). Some amongst them use only teeth for cleaning grain. Others use only stones for that purpose.[1008] Some amongst them drink, only during the lighted fortnight, the gruel of wheat (or other grain) boiled very lightly.[1009] There are many who drink similar gruel only during the dark fortnight. Some eat what only comes by the way (without seeking to obtain it). Some adopting rigid vows, live upon only roots, some upon only fruits, some upon only flowers, duly observing the method followed by the Vaikhanasas. These and other diverse observances are adopted by those men of wisdom and piety. The fourth is (the mode called Renunciation) based upon the Upanishads. The duties laid down for it may be observed in all the modes of life equally. This mode differing from the others comes _after_ domesticity and forest life. In this very Yuga, O son, many learned Brahmanas conversant with the truths of all things, have been known to observe this mode. Agastya, the seven Rishis (viz., Atri, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Vasishtha, Narada, and Kratu), Madhucchandas, Aghamarshana, Sankriti Sudivatandi who lived withersoever he pleased and was content to take what came (without ever seeking for anything),[1010] Ahovirya Kavya, Tandya, the learned Medhatithi, Karmanirvaka of mighty energy, and Sunyapala who had exerted himself greatly (for acquiring ascetic puissance) were the authors of this course of duties, and themselves observing them have all proceeded to heaven. Many great Rishis, O son, who had the puissance to behold immediately the fruits of their ascetic merit,[1011] those numerous ascetics who are known by the name of Yayavaras, many Rishis of very austere penances and possessed of accurate knowledge in respect of distinctions of duty, and many other Brahmanas too numerous to mention, adopted the forest mode of life. The Vaikhanasas, the Valikhilyas, the Saikatas, all of whom were devoted to austere penances,[1012] who were steadfast in virtue, who had subdued their senses, and who used to behold the fruits of their penances immediately, adopted this mode of life and finally ascended to heaven. Freed from fear and not counted among the stars and planets, these have become visible in the firmament as luminous bodies.[1013] When the fourth or last part of life is reached, and when one is weakened by decrepitude and afflicted by disease, one should abandon the forest mode of life (for the fourth mode called Renunciation). Performing a sacrifice that is capable of being completed in a single day and in which the Dakshina should be everything of which he may be possessed, he should himself perform his own Sraddha. Withdrawn from every other object, he should devote himself to his own self, taking pleasure in himself, and resting also on his own self.[1014] He should establish all his sacrificial fires (thenceforth) upon his own self, and give up all kinds of ties and attachments. (In case he fails to attain to complete Renunciation) he should always perform such sacrifices and rites as are completed in a single day.[1015] When, however, from performance of the (ordinary) sacrifices of sacrificers, the Sacrifice in Self proceeds, then (may he discontinue all ordinary sacrifices, and) unto the three fires duly sacrifice in his own Self for the sake of his Emancipation.[1016] Without finding fault with his food he should eat five or six mouthfuls, offering them duly unto five vital airs uttering (every time the well-known) mantras of the Yajurveda.[1017] Engaged in the observance of austerities while leading the life of a forest recluse, one should shave off one's hair and bristles and pare off one's nails, and having cleansed oneself by acts, pass into the fourth and last mode of life that is fraught with great holiness.[1018] That regenerate person who enters the fourth mode of life, giving pledges of assurance unto all creatures, succeeds in earning many regions of blazing effulgence hereafter and ultimately attains to the Infinite.[1019] Of excellent disposition and conduct, with sins all washed off, the person who is conversant with his own self never desires to do any act for either this or the other world. Freed from wrath and from error, without anxiety and without friendship, such a person lives in this world like one totally uninterested in its concerns. One (in the observance of Sannyasa) should not feel reluctant in discharging the duties included in Yama and those also that walk behind them (and are included in niyama). Such a one should with energy live according to the ordinances in respect of his own mode, and throw away Vedic study and the sacred thread that is indicative of the order of his birth. Devoted to righteousness and with his senses under complete control, such a one, possessed of knowledge of self, attains undoubtedly to the end for which he strives.[1020] After the third is the fourth mode of life. It is very superior, and fraught with numerous high virtues. It transcends in point of merit the three other modes of life. It is said to occupy the highest place. Listen to me as I discourse upon the duties that belong to that mode which is pre-eminent and which is the high refuge of all!'"'" SECTION CCXLV "'"Suka said, 'While living in the due observance of the duties of the foremost of life, how should one, who seeks to attain to that which is the highest object of knowledge, set one's soul on Yoga according to the best of one's power?' "'"Vyasa said, 'Having acquired (purity of conduct and body) by the practice of the first two modes of life, viz., Brahmacharya and domesticity, one should, after that, set one's soul on Yoga in the third mode of life. Listen now with concentrated attention to what should be done for attaining to the highest object of acquisition![1021] Having subdued all faults of the mind and of heart by easy means in the practice of the first three modes of life (viz., pupilage, domesticity, and seclusion) one should pass into the most excellent and the most eminent of all the modes, viz., Sannyasa or Renunciation. Do thou then pass thy days, having acquired that purity. Listen also to me. One should, alone and without anybody to assist him or bear him company, practise Yoga for attaining to success (in respect of one's highest object of acquisition). One who practises Yoga without companionship, who beholds everything as a repetition of his own self, and who never discards anything (in consequence of all things being pervaded by the Universal Soul), never falls away from Emancipation. Without keeping the sacrificial fires and without a fixed habitation, such a person should enter a village for only begging his food. He should provide himself for the day without storing for the morrow. He should betake himself to penances, with heart fixed on the Supreme.[1022] Eating little and that even under proper regulations, he should not eat more than once a day. The other indications of a (religious) mendicant are the human skull, shelter under trees, rags for wearing, solitude unbroken by the companionship of any one, and indifference to all creatures.[1023] That person into whom words enter like affrighted elephants into a well, and from whom they never come back to the speaker, is fit to lead this mode of life which has Emancipation for its object.[1024] The mendicant (or Renouncer) should never take note of the evil acts of any person. He should never hear what is said in dispraise of others. Especially should he avoid speaking evil of a Brahmana. He should always say only what is agreeable to the Brahmanas. When anything is said in dispraise (of himself), he should (without answering) remain perfectly silent. Such silence, indeed, is the medical treatment prescribed for him. That person in consequence of whose single self the place he occupies becomes like the eastern sky, and who can make a spot teeming with thousands of men and things appear to himself perfectly solitary or unoccupied, is regarded by the deities to be a true Brahmana.[1025] Him the gods know for a Brahmana who clothes himself with whatever comes by the way, who subsists upon whatever he gets, and who sleeps on whatever spot he finds. Him the gods know for a Brahmana who is afraid of company as of a snake; of the full measure of gratification (from sweet viands and drinks) as of hell; and of women as of a corpse.[1026] Him the gods know for a Brahmana who is never glad when honoured and never angry when insulted, and who has given assurances of compassion unto all creatures. One in the observance of the last mode of life should not view death with joy. Nor should he view life with joy. He should only wait for his hour like a servant waiting for the behest (of his master). He should purify his heart of all faults. He should purify his speech of all faults. He should cleanse himself of all sins. As he has no foes, what fear can assail him? He who fears no creature and whom no creature fears, can have no fear from any quarter, freed as he is from error of every kind. As the footprints of all other creatures that move upon legs are engulfed within those of elephants, after the same manner all ranks and conditions are absorbed within Yoga[1027]. After the same manner, every other duty and observance is supposed to be engulfed within the one duty of abstention from injury (to all creatures).[1028] He lives an everlasting life of felicity who avoids injuring other creatures. One who abstains from injury, who casts an equal eye upon all creatures, who is devoted to truth, who is endued with fortitude, who has his senses under control, and who grants protection to all beings, attains to an end that is beyond compare. The condition called death succeeds not in transcending such a person who is content with self-knowledge, who is free from fear, and who is divested of desire and expectancy. On the other hand, such a person succeeds in transcending death. Him the gods know for a Brahmana who is freed from attachments of every kind, who is observant of penances, who lives like space which while holding everything is yet unattached to any thing, who has nothing which he calls his own, who leads a life of solitude, and whose is tranquillity of soul. The gods know him for a Brahmana whose life is for the practice of righteousness, whose righteousness is for the good of them that wait dutifully upon him, and whose days and nights exist only for the acquisition of merit.[1029] The gods know him for a Brahmana who is freed from desire, who never exerts himself for doing such acts as are done by worldly men, who never bends his head unto any one, who never flatters another, (and who is free from attachments of every kind). All creatures are pleased with happiness and filled with fear at the prospect of grief. The man of faith, therefore, who should feel distressed at the prospect of filling other creatures with grief, must abstain entirely from acts of every kind.[1030] The gift of assurances of harmlessness unto all creatures transcends in point of merit all other gifts. He who, at the outset, forswears the religion of injury, succeeds in attaining to Emancipation (in which or) whence is the assurance of harmlessness unto all creatures.[1031] That man who does not pour into his open mouth even the five or six mouthfuls that are laid down for the forest recluse, is said to be the navel of the world, and the refuge of the universe. The head and other limbs, as also the acts good and bad, become possessed by Fire. Such a man, who sacrifices in his own self, makes a liberation of his senses and mind into the fire that dwells within the limited space of his own heart. In consequence again of his pouring such a libation into such a fire within his own self, the universe with all creatures including the very gods, becomes gratified.[1032] They who apprehend the Jiva-soul that is endued with effulgence, that is enveloped in three cases, that has three attributes for its characteristics, to be Iswara partaking of that which is foremost, viz., the nature of the Supreme Soul, becomes object of great regard in all the worlds. The very gods with all human beings speak highly of their merits. He who succeeds in beholding in the soul that resides in his own body all the Vedas, space and the other objects of perception, the rituals that occur in scriptures, all those entities that are comprehensible in sound only and the superior nature of the Supreme Soul, is sought to be worshipped by the very deities as the foremost of all beings. He who sees in the soul that resides within his body, that foremost of beings which is not attached to the earth, which is immeasurable in even the (measureless) firmament, which is made of gold, which is born of the egg and resides within the egg, which is equipped with many feathers, and which has two wings like a bird, and which is rendered effulgent by many rays of light, is sought to be worshipped by the very deities as the foremost of all beings.[1033] The very deities worship him in whose understanding is set the wheel of Time, which is constantly revolving, which knows no decay, which swallows up the period of existence of every creature, which has the six seasons for its naves, which is equipped with two and ten radii consisting of the two and ten months, which has excellent joint, and towards whose gaping mouth proceeds this universe (ready to be devoured).[1034] The Supreme Soul is the capacious unconsciousness of dreamless slumber. That Unconsciousness is the body of the universe. It pervadeth all created things. Jiva, occupying a portion of that capacious unconsciousness gratifies the deities. These last, being gratified, gratify the open mouth of that unconsciousness.[1035] Endued with effulgence as also with the principle of eternity, Jiva is without a beginning. It acquires (by following particular paths) infinite regions of eternal happiness. He of whom no creature is afraid, has never to fear any creature. He who never does anything censurable and who never censures another, is said to be a truly regenerate person. Such a man succeeds in beholding the Supreme Soul. He whose ignorance has been dispelled and whose sins have been washed away, never enjoys either here or hereafter the happiness that is enjoyed by others (but attains to complete Emancipation). A person in the observance of the fourth mode of life wanders on the earth like one unconnected with everything. Such a one is freed from wrath and error. Such a one regards a clod of earth and lump of gold with an equal eye. Such a man never stores anything for his use. Such a one has no friends and foes. Such a one is utterly regardless of praise or blame, and of the agreeable and the disagreeable.'"'" SECTION CCXLVI "'"Vyasa said, 'The Jiva-soul is endued with all those entities that are modifications of Prakriti. These do not know the Soul but the Soul knows them all. Like a good driver proceeding with the aid of strong, well-broken, and high-mettled steeds along the paths he selects, the Soul acts with the aid of these, called the senses, having the mind for their sixth. The objects of the senses are superior to the senses themselves. The mind is superior to those objects. The understanding is superior to the mind. The Soul, also called Mahat, is superior to the understanding. Superior to Mahat is the Unmanifest (or Prakriti). Superior to the Unmanifest is Brahma. There is nothing Superior to Brahma. That is the highest limit of excellence and the highest goal. The Supreme Soul is concealed in every creature. It is not displayed for ordinary men to behold. Only Yogins with subtile vision behold the Supreme Soul with the aid of their keen and subtile understanding. Merging the senses having the mind for their sixth and all the objects of the senses into the inner Soul by the aid of the Understanding, and reflecting upon the three states of consciousness, viz., the object thought, the act of thinking, and the thinker, and abstaining by contemplation from every kind of enjoyment, equipping his mind with the knowledge that he is Brahma's self, laying aside at the same time all consciousness of puissance, and thereby making his soul perfectly tranquil, the Yogin obtains that to which immortality inheres. That person, however, who happens to be the slave of all his senses and whose ideas of right and wrong have been confounded, already liable as he is to death, actually meets with death by such surrender of self to (the passions).[1036] Destroying all desires, one should merge the gross Understanding into one's subtile Understanding. Having thus merged the gross into the subtile Understanding, one is sure to become a second Kalanjara mountain.[1037] By purifying his heart, the Yogin transcends both righteousness and its reverse. By purifying his heart and by living in his own true nature, he attains to the highest happiness.[1038] The indication of that purity of heart (of which I speak) is that one who has attained to experiences that state of unconsciousness (with respect of all one's surroundings) which one experiences in dreamless slumber. The Yogin who has attained to that state lives like the steady flame of a lamp that burns in a place where the atmosphere is perfectly still. Becoming abstemious in diet, and having cleansed his heart, that Yogin who applies his Soul to the Soul succeeds in beholding the Soul in the Soul.[1039] This discourse, O son, intended for thy instruction, is the essence of all the Vedas. The truths herein disclosed are incapable of being understood by the aid of inference alone or by that of mere study of the scriptures. One must understand it oneself by the aid of faith. By churning the wealth that is contained in all religious works and in all discourses based on truth, as also the ten thousand Richs, this nectar hath been raised. As butter from curds and fire from wood, even hath this been raised for the sake of my son,--this that constituteth the knowledge of all truly wise men. This discourse, O son, fraught with solid instruction, is intended for delivery unto Snatakas.[1040] It should never be imparted to one that is not of tranquil soul, or one that is not self-restrained, or one that hath not undergone penances. It should not be communicated to one that is not conversant with the Vedas, or one that doth not humbly wait upon one's preceptor, or one that is not free from malice, or one that is not possessed of sincerity and candour, or one that is of reckless behaviour. It should never be communicated to one whose intellect hath been consumed by the science of disputation, or one that is vile or low. Unto that person, however, who is possessed of fame, or who deserveth applause (for his virtues), or who is of tranquil soul, or possessed of ascetic merit, unto a Brahmana who is such, unto one's son or dutiful disciple, this discourse containing the very essence of duties should be communicated, but on no account should it be communicated to others. If any person makes a gift of the whole earth with all her treasures, unto one conversant with truth, the latter would still regard the gift of this knowledge to be very much superior to that gift. I shall now discourse to thee on a subject that is a greater mystery than this, a subject that is connected with the Soul, that transcends the ordinary understandings of human beings, that has been beheld by the foremost of Rishis, that has been treated in the Upanishads, and that forms the topic of thy inquiry. Tell me what after this is in thy mind? Tell me in what thou has still any doubt? Listen, for here I am, O son, faces turned towards all directions. The Sun and the Moon are thy two seated before thee! Upon what indeed, shall I once more speak to thee?'"'" SECTION CCXLVII "'"Suka said, 'O illustrious one, O foremost of Rishis, once again discourse to me on Adhyatma more elaborately. Tell me what, indeed, is Adhyatma and whence does it come?'[1041] "'"Vyasa said, 'That, O son, which is regarded as Adhyatma with reference to human beings, I shall now mention to thee, and listen to the explanation I give (of Adhyatma). Earth, water, light, wind, and space, are the great entities that form the component parts of all creatures, and, though really one, are yet regarded different like the waves of the ocean (which though identical with respect to their constituent substance are yet counted as different from one another). Like a tortoise stretching out its limbs and withdrawing them again, the great entities (already named), by dwelling in numberless small forms, undergo transformations (called creation and destruction). All this universe of mobile and immobile objects hath for its component parts these five entities. Everything, in respect of its creation and destruction, is referable to this fivefold entity. These five entities occur in all existent things. The Creator of all things, however, hath made an unequal distribution of those entities (by placing them in different things in different proportions) for serving different ends.'[1042] "'"Suka said, 'How may one succeed in understanding that unequal distribution (of the five great entities of which thou speakest) in the diverse things of the universe? Which amongst them are the senses and which the attributes? How may this be understood?' "'"Vyasa said, 'I shall explain thee this duly one after another. Listen with concentrated attention to the subject as I expound how what I have said actually happens. Sound, the sense of hearing, and all the cavities within the body,--these three--have space for their origin. The vital breaths, the action of the limbs and touch form the attributes of the wind. Form, eyes, and the digestive fire within the stomach, are originated by light. Taste, tongue, and all the humours,--these three,--are from water. Scent, nose, and the body,--these three,--are the attributes of earth. These, then, as I have expounded to thee, are the transformations of the five (great) entities with senses. Touch is said to be the attribute of the wind; taste of water; form of light. Sound is said to have its origin in space, and scent is said to be the property of earth. Mind, Understanding, and Nature,--these three,--spring from their own previous states, and attaining (at each rebirth) to a position higher than the attributes (which form their respective objects), do not transcend those attributes.[1043] As the tortoise stretches out its limbs and withdraws them once again within itself, even so the Understanding creates the senses and once again withdraws them into itself.[1044] The consciousness of personal identity that arises in respect of that which is above the soles of the feet and below the crown of the head, is principally due to the action of the Understanding.[1045] It is the understanding that is transformed into the (five) attributes (of form, scent, etc.). It is understanding also that is transformed into the (five) senses with the mind for the sixth. When the Understanding is absent, where are the attributes?[1046] In man there are five senses. The mind is called the sixth (sense). The Understanding is called the seventh. The Soul is the eighth. The eyes (and the other senses) are for only receiving impressions of form (and scent, etc.). The mind exists for doubting (the accuracy of those impressions). The Understanding settles those doubts. The Soul is said only to witness every operation without mingling with them. Rajas, Tamas, and Sattwa,--these three,--arise from their own counterparts. These exist equal in all creatures (viz., the deities and human beings, etc.). These are called attributes and should be known by the actions they induce.[1047] As regards those actions all such states in which one becomes conscious of oneself as united with cheerfulness or joy and which are tranquil and pure, should be known as due to the attribute of Sattwa. All such states in either the body or the mind, as are united with sorrow, should be regarded as due to the influence of the attribute called Rajas. All such states again as exist with stupefication (of the senses, the mind or the understanding) whose cause is unascertainable, and which are incomprehensible (by either reasons or inward light), should be known as ascribable to the action of Tamas. Delight, cheerfulness, joy, equanimity, contentment of heart, due to any known cause or arising otherwise, are all effects of the attribute of Sattwa. Pride, untruthfulness of speech, cupidity, stupefication, vindictiveness, whether arising from any known cause or otherwise, are indications of the quality of Rajas. Stupefaction of judgment, heedlessness, sleep, lethargy, and indolence, from whatever cause these may arise, are to be known as indications of the quality of Tamas.'"'"[1048] SECTION CCXLVIII "'"Vyasa said, 'The mind creates (within itself) numerous ideas (of objects or existent things). The Understanding settles which is which. The heart discriminates which is agreeable and which is disagreeable. These are the three forces that impel to acts. The objects of the senses are superior to the senses. The mind is superior to those objects. The understanding is superior to mind. The Soul is regarded as superior to Understanding. (As regards the ordinary purposes of man) the Understanding is his Soul. When the understanding, of its own motion, forms ideas (of objects) within itself, it then comes to be called Mind.[1049] In consequence of the senses being different from one another (both in respect of their objects and the manner of their operation), the Understanding (which is one and the same) present different aspect in consequence of its different modifications. When it hears, it becomes the organ of hearing, and when it touches, it becomes the organ of touch. Similarly, when it sees, it becomes the organ of vision, and when it tastes, it becomes the organ of taste, and when it smells, it becomes the organ of scent. It is the Understanding that appears under different guises (for different functions) by modification. It is the modifications of the Understanding that are called the senses. Over them is placed as their presiding chief (or overseer) the invisible Soul. Residing in the body, the Understanding exists in the three states (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas). Sometimes it obtains cheerfulness, sometimes it gives way to grief; and sometimes its condition becomes such that it is united with neither cheerfulness nor grief. The Understanding, however, whose chief function (as already said) is to create entities, transcends those three states even as the ocean, that lord of rivers, prevails against the mighty currents of the rivers that fall into it.[1050] When the Understanding desires for anything, it comes to be called by the name of Mind. The senses again, though (apparently different) should all be taken as included within the Understanding. The senses, which are engaged in bearing impressions of form, scent etc., should all be subdued.[1051] When a particular sense becomes subservient to the Understanding, the latter though in reality not different (from that sense), enters the Mind in the form of existent things. Even this is what happens with the senses one after another (separately and not simultaneously) with reference to the ideas that are said to be apprehended by them.[1052] All the three states that exist (viz., Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas), inhere to these three (viz., Mind, Understanding, and Consciousness) and like the spokes of a car-wheel acting in consequence of their attachment to the circumference of the wheel, they follow the different objects (that exist in Mind, Understanding, and Consciousness).[1053] The mind must make a lamp of the senses for dispelling the darkness that shuts out the knowledge of the Supreme Soul. This knowledge that is acquired by Yogins with the aid of all especial agency of Yoga, is acquired without any especial efforts by men that abstain from worldly objects.[1054] The universe is of this nature (viz., it is only a creation of the understanding). The man of knowledge, therefore, is never stupefied (by attachment to things of this world). Such a man never grieves, never rejoices, and is free from envy (at seeing another possessing a larger share of earthly objects). The Soul is incapable of being seen with the aid of the senses whose nature is to wander among all (earthly) objects of desire. Even righteous men, whose senses are pure, fail to behold the soul with their aid, what then should be said of the vicious whose senses are impure? When, however, a person, with the aid of his mind, tightly holds their reins, it is then that his Soul discovers itself like an object (unseen in darkness) appearing to the view in consequence of the light of a lamp. Indeed, as all things become visible when the darkness that envelopes them is dispelled, even the soul becomes visible when the darkness that covers it is removed.[1055] As an aquatic fowl, though moving on the water, is never drenched by that element, after the same manner the Yogin of freed soul is never soiled by the imperfections of the three attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas). After the same manner, the man of wisdom, by even enjoying all earthly objects without being attached to any of them, is never soiled by faults of any kind that arise in the case of others from such enjoyment. He who avoids acts after having done them duly,[1056] and takes delight in the one really existent entity, viz., the Soul, who has constituted himself the soul of all created beings, and who succeeds in keeping himself aloof from the three attributes, obtains an understanding and senses that are created by the Soul. The qualities are incapable of apprehending the Soul. The Soul, however, apprehends them always. The Soul is the witness that beholds the qualities and duly calls them up into being. Behold, this is the difference between the understanding and the Soul both of which are exceedingly subtile. One of them creates the qualities. The other never creates them. Though they are different from each other by nature, yet they are always united. The fish living in the water is different from the element in which it lives. But as the fish and the water forming its home are always united, after the same manner Sattwa and Kshetrajna exists in a state of union. The gnat born within a rotten fig is really not the fig but different from it. Nevertheless, as the gnat and the fig are seen to be united with each other, even so are Sattwa and Kshetrajna. As the blade in a clump of grass, though distinct from the clump, nevertheless exists in a state of union with it, even so these two, though different from each other, each existing in its own self, are to be seen in a state of constant union.'"'" SECTION CCXLIX "'"Vyasa said, 'The objects by which one is surrounded are created by the understanding. The Soul, without being connected with them, stands aloof, presiding over them. It is the understanding that creates all objects. The three primary qualities are continually being transformed (for the production of objects). The Kshetrajna or Soul, endued with puissance, presides over them all, without, however, mingling with them.[1057] The objects which the understanding creates partake of its own nature. Indeed, as the spider creates threads (which partakes of its own material substance), the objects created by the understanding partake of the nature of the understanding. Some maintain that the qualities, when driven away by Yoga or knowledge, do not cease to exist. They say this because when once gone, the indications only of their return are not perceptible. (But that is no evidence of their actual destruction). Others say that when dispelled by knowledge, they are at once destroyed never to return.[1058] Reflecting upon these two opinions properly, one should strive one's best according to the way one thinks proper. It is by this way that one should attain to eminence and take refuge in one's own Soul alone.[1059] The Soul is without beginning and without end. Comprehending his Soul properly man should move and act, without giving way to wrath, without indulging in joy, and always free from envy. Cutting by this means the knot that is in one's heart, the knot whose existence is due to the operation of the faculties of the understanding, which is hard (to open or cut), but which nevertheless is capable of being destroyed by knowledge, one should live happily, without giving way to grief (for anything that happens), and with one's doubts dispelled. Know that they who mingle in the affairs of this world are as distressed in body and mind as persons ignorant of the art of swimming when they slip from the land and fall into a large and deep river. The man of learning, however, being conversant with the truth, is never distressed, for he feels like one walking over solid land. Indeed, he who apprehends his Soul to be such, viz., as presenting only the character of Chit which has knowledge alone for its indication, is never distressed. Indeed, a person, by thus comprehending the origin and end of all creatures, and by thus apprehending their inequalities or distinctions, succeeds in attaining to high felicity. This knowledge is the possession of a Brahmana in especial by virtue of his birth. Knowledge of the Soul, and felicity like that which has been adverted to, are each fully sufficient to lead to emancipation.[1060] By acquiring such knowledge one really becomes learned. What else is the indication of a person of knowledge? Having acquired such knowledge, they that are wise among men regard themselves crowned with success and become emancipated.[1061] Those things that become sources of fear unto men destitute of knowledge do not become sources of fear unto those that are endued with knowledge. There is no end higher than the eternal end which is obtained by a person possessed of knowledge. One beholds with aversion all earthly objects of enjoyment which are, of course, fraught with faults of every kind. Another, beholding others betake themselves with pleasure to such objects, is filled with sorrow. As regards this matter, however, they that are conversant with both objects, behold, viz., that which is fictitious and that which is not so, never indulge in sorrow and are truly happy.[1062] That which a man does without expectation of fruits destroys his acts of a former life. The acts, however, of such a person both of this and his previous life cannot lead to Emancipation. On the other hand, such destruction of former acts and such acts of this life cannot lead to what is disagreeable (viz., hell), even if the man of wisdom engages in acts.'"'"[1063] SECTION CCL "'"Suka said, 'Let thy reverence tell me of that which is the foremost of all duties, indeed, of that duty above which no higher one exists in this world.' "'"Vyasa said, 'I shall now tell thee of duties having a very ancient origin and laid down by the Rishis, duties that are distinguished above all others. Listen to me with undivided attention. The senses that are maddening should carefully be restrained by the understanding like a sire restraining his own inexperienced children liable to fall into diverse evil habits. The withdrawal of the mind and the senses from all unworthy objects and their due concentration (upon worthy objects) is the highest penance. That is the foremost of all duties. Indeed, that is said to be the highest duty. Directing, by the aid of the understanding, the senses having the mind for their sixth, and without, indeed, thinking of worldly objects which have the virtue of inspiring innumerable kinds of thought, one should live contented with one's own self. When the senses and the mind, withdrawn from the pastures among which they usually run loose, come back for residing in their proper abode, it is then that thou wilt behold in thy own self the Eternal and Supreme Soul.[1064] Those high-souled Brahmanas that are possessed of wisdom succeed in beholding that Supreme and Universal Soul which is like unto a blazing fire in effulgence. As a large tree endued with numerous branches and possessed of many flowers and fruits does not know in which part it has flowers and in which it has fruits, after the same manner the Soul as modified by birth and other attributes, does not know whence it has come and whither it is to go. There is, however, an inner Soul, which beholds (knows) everything.[1065] One sees the Soul oneself with the aid of the lighted lamp of knowledge. Beholding, therefore, thyself with thy own self, cease to regard thy body as thyself and attain thou to omniscience. Cleansed of all sins, like unto a snake that has cast off its slough, one attains to high intelligence here and becomes free from every anxiety and the obligation of acquiring a new body (in a subsequent birth). Its current spreading in diverse directions, frightful is this river of life bearing the world onward in its course. The five senses are its crocodiles. The mind and its purposes are the shores. Cupidity and stupefaction of judgment are the grass and straw that float on it, covering its bosom. Lust and wrath are the fierce reptiles that live in it. Truth forms the tirtha by its miry banks. Falsehood forms its surges, anger its mire. Taking its rise from the Unmanifest, rapid is its current, and incapable of being crossed by persons of uncleansed souls. Do thou, with the aid of the understanding cross that river having desires for its alligators. The world and its concerns constitute the ocean towards which that river runs. Genus and species constitute its unfathomable depth that none can understand. One's birth, O child, is the source from which that stream takes its rise. Speech constitutes its eddies. Difficult to cross, only men of learning and wisdom and understanding succeed in crossing it. Crossing it, thou wilt succeed in freeing thyself from every attachment, acquiring a tranquil heart, knowing the Soul, and becoming pure in every respect. Relying then on a purged and elevated understanding, thou wilt succeed in becoming Brahma's self. Having dissociated thyself from every worldly attachment, having acquired a purified Soul and transcending every kind of sin, look thou upon the world like a person looking from the mountain top upon creatures creeping below on the earth's surface. Without giving way to wrath or joy, and without forming any cruel wish, thou wilt succeed in beholding the origin and the destruction of all created objects. They that are endued with wisdom regard such an act to be the foremost of all things. Indeed, this act of crossing the river of life is regarded by the foremost of righteous persons, by ascetics conversant with the truth, to be the highest of all acts that one can accomplish. This knowledge of the all-pervading Soul is intended to be imparted to one's son. It should be inculcated unto one that is of restrained senses, that is honest in behaviour, and that is docile or submissive. This knowledge of the Soul, of which I have just now spoken to thee, O child, and the evidence of whose truth is furnished by the Soul itself, is a mystery,--indeed, the greatest of all mysteries, and the very highest knowledge that one can attain. Brahma hath no sex,--male, female, or neuter. It is neither sorrow nor happiness. It hath for its essence the past, the future, and the present. Whatever one's sex, male or female, the person that attains to the knowledge of Brahma hath never to undergo rebirth. This duty (of Yoga) hath been inculcated for attaining to exemption from rebirth.[1066] These words that I have used for answering thy question lead to Emancipation in the same way as the diverse other opinions advanced by diverse other sages that have treated of this subject. I have expounded the topic to thee after the manner in which it should be expounded. Those opinions sometimes become productive of fruit and sometimes not. (The words, however, that I have used are of a different kind, for these are sure to lead to success).[1067] For this reason, O good child, a preceptor, when asked by a contented, meritorious, and self-restrained son or disciple, should, with a delighted heart, inculcate, according to their true import, these instructions that I have inculcated for the benefit of thee, my son!'"'" SECTION CCLI "'"Vyasa said, 'One should not show any affection for scents and tastes and other kinds of enjoyment. Nor should one accept ornaments and other articles contributing to the enjoyment of the senses of scent and taste. One should not covet honour and achievements and fame. Even this is the behaviour of a Brahmana possessed of vision.[1068] He that hath studied all the Vedas, having waited dutifully on his preceptor and observed the vow of Brahmacharya, he that knows all the Richs, Yajuses, and Samans, is not a regenerate person.[1069] One that behaves towards all creatures as if one is their kinsman, and one that is acquainted with Brahma, is said to be conversant with all the Vedas. One that is divested of desire (being contented with knowledge of the Soul), never dies. It is by such a behaviour and such a frame of mind that one becomes a truly regenerate person.[1070] Having performed only various kinds of religious rites and diverse sacrifices completed with gift of Dakshina, one does not acquire the status of a Brahmana if he is devoid of compassion and hath not given up desire.[1071] When one ceases to fear all creatures and when all creatures cease to fear one, when one never desires for anything nor cherishes aversion for anything, then he is said to attain to the status of Brahma. When one abstains from injuring all creatures in thought, speech, and act, then he is said to acquire the status of Brahma. There is only one kind of bondage in this world, viz., the bondage of desire, and no other. One that is freed from the bondage of desire attains to the status of Brahma. Freed from desire like the Moon emerged from murky clouds, the man of wisdom, purged of all stains, lives in patient expectation of his time. That person into whose mind all sorts of desire enter like diverse streams falling into the ocean without being able to enhance its limits by their discharge, succeeds in obtaining tranquillity, but not he who cherishes desire for all earthly objects. Such a person becomes happy in consequence of the fruition of all his wishes, and not he who cherishes desire for earthly objects. The latter, even if he attains to heaven, has to fall away from it.[1072] The Vedas have truth for their recondite object. Truth hath the subjugation of the senses for its recondite object. The subjugation of the senses hath charity for its recondite object. Charity hath penance for its recondite object. Penance hath renunciation for its recondite object. Renunciation hath happiness for its recondite object. Happiness hath heaven for its recondite object. Heaven hath tranquillity for its recondite object.[1073] For the sake of contentment thou shouldst wish to obtain a serene understanding which is a precious possession, being indicative of Emancipation, and which, scorching grief and all purposes or doubts together with thirst, destroys them completely in the end.[1074] One possessed of those six attributes, viz., contentment, grieflessness, freedom from attachment, peacefulness, cheerfulness, and freedom from envy, is sure to become full or complete.[1075] They that, transcending all consciousness of body, know the Soul which resides within the body and which is understood by only persons of wisdom with the aid of the six entities (already mentioned, viz., the Vedas and truth, etc.) when endowed with only the attribute of Sattwa, and with the aid also of the other three (viz., instruction, meditation and Yoga), succeed in attaining to Emancipation.[1076] The man of wisdom, by understanding the Soul which presides within the body, which is divested of the attributes of birth and death, which exists in its own nature, which being uninvested with attributes requires no act of purification, and which is identical with Brahma, enjoys beatitude that knows no termination. The gratification that the man of wisdom obtains by restraining his mind from wandering in all directions and fixing it wholly on the Soul is such that its like cannot be attained by one through any other means. He is said to be truly conversant with the Vedas who is conversant with that which gratifies one whose stomach is empty, which pleases one who is indigent, and which invigorates one whose limbs are dry. Suspending his senses that have been duly restrained from unworthy indulgence, he who lives engaged in Yoga meditation, is said to be a Brahmana. Such a person is said to be distinguished above others. Such a person is said to derive his joys from the Soul. With reference to one who lives after having weakened desire and devoting himself to the highest topic of existence, it should be said that his happiness is continuously enhanced like the lunar disc (in the lighted fortnight).[1077] Like the Sun dispelling darkness, felicity dispels the sorrows of that Yogin who transcends both the gross and the subtile elements, as also Mahat and the Unmanifest.[1078] Decrepitude and death cannot assail that Brahmana who has got beyond the sphere of acts, who has transcended the destruction of the Gunas themselves, and who is no longer attached to worldly objects.[1079] Indeed, when the Yogin, freed from everything, lives in a state transcending both attachment and aversion, he is said to transcend even in this life his senses and all their objects. That Yogin, who having transcended Prakriti attains to the Highest Cause, becomes freed from the obligation of a return to the world in consequence of his having attained to that which is the highest.'"'"[1080] SECTION CCLII "'"Vyasa said, 'Unto a disciple that wishes to enquire after Emancipation after having transcended all pairs of opposites and accomplished the concerns of both profit and religion, an accomplished preceptor should first recount all that has been said in the foregoing section, which is elaborate, on the topic of Adhyatma.[1081] Space, wind, light, water and earth counted as the fifth, and bhava and abhava and time, exist in all living creatures having the five for their constituent ingredients.[1082] Space is unoccupied interval. The organs of hearing consist of space. One conversant with the science of entities endued with form should know that space has sound for its attribute. The feet (that assist at locomotion) have wind for their essence. The vital breaths are made of wind. The sense of touch (skin) has wind for its essence, and touch is the attribute of wind. Heat, the digestive fire in the stomach, light that discovers all things, the warmth that is in the body, and eye counted as the fifth, are all of light which has form of diverse colours for its attribute. Liquefied discharges, solubility, and all kinds of liquid matter are of water. Blood, marrow, and all else (in the body) that is cool, should be known to have water for their essence. The tongue is the sense of taste, and taste is regarded as the attribute of water. All solid substances are of earth, as also bones, teeth, nails, beard, the bristles on the body, hair, nerves, sinews, and skin. The nose is called the sense of scent. The object of that sense, viz., scent, should be known as the attribute of earth. Each subsequent element possesses the attribute or attributes of the preceding one besides its own. [1083] In all living creatures again are the (three) supplementary entities (viz., avidya, kama, and karma).[1084] The Rishis thus declared the five elements and the effects and attributes flowing from or belonging to them. The mind forms the ninth in the calculation, and the understanding is regarded as the tenth. The Soul, which is infinite, is called the eleventh. It is regarded as this all and as the highest. The mind has doubt for its essence. The understanding discriminates and causes certainty. The Soul (which, as already said, is infinite), becomes known as Jiva invested with body (or jivatman) through consequences derived from acts.[1085] That man who looketh upon the entire assemblage of living creatures to be unstained, though endued with all these entities having time for their essence, has never to recur to acts affected by error.'"'"[1086] SECTION CCLIII "'"Vyasa said, 'Those that are conversant with the scriptures behold, with the aid of acts laid down in the scriptures, the Soul which is clothed in a subtile body and is exceedingly subtile and which is dissociated from the gross body in which it resides.[1087] As the rays of the Sun that course in dense masses through every part of the firmament are incapable of being seen by the naked eye though their existence is capable of being inferred by reason, after the same manner, existent beings freed from gross bodies and wandering in the universe are beyond the ken of human vision.[1088] As the effulgent disc of the Sun is beheld in the water in a counter-image, after the same manner the Yogin beholds within gross bodies the existent self in its counter-image.[1089] All those souls again that are encased in subtile forms after being freed from the gross bodies in which they resided, are perceptible to Yogins who have subjugated their senses and who are endued with knowledge of the soul. Indeed, aided by their own souls, Yogins behold those invisible beings. Whether asleep or awake, during the day as in the night, and during the night as in day time, they who apply themselves to Yoga after casting off all the creations of the understanding and the Rajas born of acts, as also the very puissance that Yoga begets, succeed in keeping their linga form under complete control.[1090] The Jiva that dwells in such Yogins, always endued with the seven subtile entities (viz., Mahat, consciousness, and the five tanmatras of the five elemental entities), roves in all regions of bliss, freed from decrepitude and death. I say "always", and "freed from death" only in accordance with the common form of speech, for in reality, that linga form is terminable.[1091] That man, however, who (without having been able to transcend them) is under the influence of his mind and understanding, discriminates, even in his dreams, his own body from that of another and experiences (even then) both pleasure and pain.[1092] Yes, in even his dreams he enjoys happiness and suffers misery; and yielding to wrath and cupidity, meets with calamities of various kinds. In his dreams he acquires great wealth and feels highly gratified, accomplishes meritorious acts, and (sees and hears, etc.) as he does in his wakeful hours. Wonderful it is to note that jiva, which has to lie within the uterus and amid much internal heat, and which has to pass a period of full ten months in that place, is not digested and reduced to destruction like food within the stomach. Men overwhelmed by the qualities of Rajas and Tamas never succeed in beholding within the gross body the Jiva-soul which is a portion of the Supreme Soul of transcendent effulgence and which lies within the heart of every creature. They who betake themselves to the science of Yoga for the purpose of obtaining (a knowledge) of that Soul transcending the inanimate and gross body, the imperceptible linga body, and the karana body that is not destroyed on the occasion of even the universal destruction.[1093] Amongst the duties that have been laid down for the different modes of life including the fourth mode (or Sannyasa), these to which I have adverted, which have yoga for their foremost, and which imply a cessation of every operation of the Mind and the understanding, have been laid down by Sandilya (in the Chandogya Upanishad).[1094] Having comprehended the seven subtile entities (viz., the senses, the objects of the mind, Mind, Understanding, Mahat, Unmanifest or Prakriti, and Purusha), having comprehended also the Supreme cause of the universe with the six attributes (viz., omniscience, contentment, unlimited comprehension, independence, eternal wakefulness, and omnipotence), and lastly having understood that the universe is only a modification of Avidya endued with the three qualities, one succeeds in beholding (guided by the scriptures), high Brahma.'"'"[1095] SECTION CCLIV "'"Vyasa said, 'There is a wonderful tree, called Desire, in the heart of a man. It is born of the seed called Error. Wrath and pride constitute its large trunk. The wish for action is the basin around its foot (for holding the water that is to nourish it). Ignorance is the root of that tree, and heedlessness is the water that gives it sustenance. Envy constitutes its leaves. The evil acts of past lives supply it with vigour. Loss of judgment and anxiety are its twigs; grief forms its large branches; and fear is its sprout. Thirst (after diverse objects) that is (apparently) agreeable forms the creepers that twine round it on every side. Excessively greedy men, bound in chains of iron, sitting around that fruit-yielding tree, pay their adorations to it, in expectation of obtaining its fruit.[1096] He who, subduing those chains, cutteth down that tree and seeks to cast off both sorrow and joy, succeeds in attaining to the end of both.[1097] That foolish man who nourishes this tree by indulgence in the objects of the senses is destroyed by those very objects in which he indulges after the manner of a poisonous pill destroying the patient to whom it is administered.[1098] A dexterous person, however, by the aid of Yoga, forcibly teareth up and cutteth with the sword of samadhi, the far-reaching root of this tree.[1099] One who knows that the end of all acts undertaken from only the desire of fruit is rebirth or chains that bind, succeeds in transcending all sorrow. The body is said to be a city. The understanding is said to be its mistress. The mind dwelling within the body is the minister of that mistress whose chief function is to decide. The senses are the citizen that are employed by the mind (upon the service of the mistress). For cherishing those citizens the mind displays a strong inclination for acts of diverse kinds. In the matter of those acts, two great faults are observable, viz., Tamas and Rajas.[1100] Upon the fruits of those acts rest those citizens along with the chiefs of the city (viz., Mind, Understanding, and Consciousness).[1101] The two faults (already spoken of) live upon the fruits of those acts that are accomplished by forbidden means. This being the case, the understanding, which of itself is unconquerable (by either Rajas or Tamas), descends to a state of equality with the mind (by becoming as much tainted as the mind that serves it). Then again the senses, agitated by the stained mind, lose their own stability. Those objects again for whose acquisition the understanding strives (regarding them to be beneficial) become productive of grief and ultimately meet with destruction. Those objects, after destruction, are recollected by the mind, and accordingly they afflict the mind even after they are lost. The understanding is afflicted at the same time, for the mind is said to be different from the understanding only when the mind is considered in respect of its chief function of receiving impressions about whose certainty it is no judge. In reality, however, the mind is identical with the understanding.[1102] The Rajas (productive of only sorrow and evil of every kind) that is in the understanding then overwhelms the Soul itself that lies over the Rajas-stained understanding like an image upon a mirror.[1103] It is the mind that first unites in friendship with Rajas. Having united itself, it seizes the soul, the understanding, and the senses (like a false minister seizing the king and the citizens after having conspired with a foe) and makes them over to Rajas (with which it has united itself).'"'" SECTION CCLV "'Bhishma said, "Do thou, O son, O sinless one, listen once more, with feelings of great pride, to the words that fell from the lips of the Island-born Rishi on the subject of the enumeration of the entities. Like unto a blazing fire (for having transcended all ignorance), the great Rishi said these words unto his son who resembled a fire wrapped in smoke.[1104] Instructed by what he said, I also, O son, shall again expound to thee that certain knowledge (which dispels ignorance). The properties possessed by earth are immobility, weight, hardness, productiveness, scent, density, capacity to absorb scents of all kinds, cohesion, habitableness (in respect of vegetables and animals), and that attribute of the mind which is called patience of the capacity to bear. The properties of water are coolness, taste, moisture, liquidity, softness, agreeableness, tongue, fluidity, capacity to be congealed, and power to melt many earthly products.[1105] The properties of fire are irresistible energy, inflammability, heat, capacity to soften, light, sorrow, disease, speed, fury, and invariably upward motion. The properties of the wind are touch that is neither hot nor cool, capacity to assist the organ of speech, independence (in respect of motion), strength, celerity, power to assist all kinds of emission or discharge, power to raise other objects, breaths inhaled and exhaled, life (as the attribute of Chit) and birth (including death). The properties of space are sound, extension, capacity of being enclosed, absence of refuge for resting upon absence of all necessity for such refuge, status of being unmanifest, capacity for modification, incapacity for producing resistance, material cause for producing the sense of hearing, and the unoccupied portions of the human body. These are the fifty properties, as declared, that constitute the essence of the five elementary entities.[1106] Patience, reasoning or disputation, remembrance, forgetfulness or error, imagination, endurance, propensity towards good, propensity towards evil, and restlessness,--these are the properties of the mind. Destruction of both good and evil thoughts (i.e., dreamless slumber), perseverance, concentration, decision, and ascertainment of all things resting upon direct evidence, constitute the five properties of the understanding." "'Yudhishthira said, "How can the understanding be said to have five properties? How again, can the five senses be spoken of as properties (of the five elementary entities)? Expound to me, O grandsire, all this that seems to be very abstruse." "'Bhishma said, "The understanding is said to possess altogether sixty properties, for the understanding includes the five elements.[1107] All those properties exist in a state of union with the Soul. The Vedas declare, O son, that the elements, their (fifty) properties (together with the mind and the understanding and their nine and five properties) are all created by Him who is above all deterioration. These (one and seventy) entities, therefore, are not eternal (like the Soul). The theories contradicting the Revelation that have in the previous Vedas, O son, been placed before thee (about the origin of the Universe and its other incidents) are all defective in the eye of reason. Carefully attending, however, in this world to all that I have said unto thee about the Supreme Brahma, do thou, after attaining to the puissance that the knowledge of Brahma offers, seek to win tranquillity of heart."'"[1108] SECTION CCLVI "'Yudhishthira said, "These lords of earth that lie on the earth's surface amid their respective hosts, these princes endued with great might, are now reft of animation. Every one of these mighty monarchs was possessed of strength equal to that of ten thousand elephants. Alas! these have all been slain by men possessed of equal prowess and might. I do not behold any one else (in the world) that could slay any of these men in battle.[1109] All of them were endued with great prowess, great energy, and great strength. Possessed also of great wisdom, they are now lying on the bare ground, deprived of life. With respect to all these men that are deprived of life, the word that is used is that they are dead. Of terrible prowess, all these kings are said to be dead. On this subject a doubt has arisen in my mind. Whence is animation and whence is death? Who is it that dies? (Is it the gross body, the subtile body, or the Soul, that dies)? Whence is death? For what reason also doth death take away (living creatures)? O grandsire, tell me this, O thou that resemblest a celestial!" "'Bhishma said, "In days of old, in the Krita age, O son, there was a king of the name of Anukampaka. His cars and elephants and horses and men having been reduced in number, he was brought under the sway of his foes in battle. His son named Hari, who resembled Narayana himself in strength, was in that battle slain by his foes along with all his followers and troops. Afflicted with grief on account of the death of his son, and himself brought under the sway of foes, the king devoted himself thence to a life of tranquillity. One day, while wandering without a purpose he met the sage Narada on the earth. The monarch told Narada all that had happened, viz., the death of his son in battle and his own capture by his enemies. Having heard his words, Narada, possessed of wealth of penances, then recited to him the following narrative for dispelling his grief on account of the death of his son. "'"Narada said, 'Listen now, O monarch, to the following narrative of rather lengthy details as these had occurred. I myself heard it formerly, O king! Endued with great energy, the Grandsire, at the time of the creation of the universe, created a large number of living beings. These multiplied greatly, and none of them met with death. There was no part of the universe that was not overcrowded with living creatures, O thou of unfading glory! Indeed, O king, the three worlds seemed to swell with living beings, and became as it were breathless. Then, O monarch, the thought arose in the Grandsire's mind as to how he should destroy that overgrown population. Reflecting on the subject, the Self-born, however, could not decide what the means should be by which the destruction of life was to be brought about. Thereupon, O king, Brahman gave way to wrath, and in consequence of his wrath a fire issued out of his body. With that fire born of his wrath, the Grandsire burnt all the quarters of the universe, O monarch. Indeed, that conflagration born of the Divine lord's anger, O king, burnt heaven and earth and the firmament and the whole universe with all its mobile and immobile beings. Truly, when the Grandsire thus gave way to wrath, all mobile and immobile beings began to be consumed by the irresistible energy of that passion. Then the divine and auspicious Sthanu, that slayer of hostile heroes, that lord of the Vedas and the scriptures, filled with compassion, sought to gratify Brahman. When Sthanu came to Brahman from motives of benevolence, the great God burning with energy, addressed him, saying, "Thou deservest boons at my hands. What desire of thine shall I accomplish? I shall do thee good by accomplishing whatever is in thy breast."'"'" SECTION CCLVII "'"'Sthanu said, "Know, O lord, that my solicitations to thee are on behalf of the created beings of the universe. These beings have been created by thee. Do not be angry with them, O grandsire! By the fire born of thy energy, O illustrious one, all the created beings are being consumed. Beholding them placed in such a plight, I am penetrated with compassion. Do not be angry with them, O lord of the universe." "'"'The lord of all created beings said, "I am not angry, nor is it my wish that all the created beings should cease to exist. It is only for lightening the burthen of the earth that destruction is desirable. The goddess Earth, afflicted with the weight of creatures, solicited me, O Mahadeva, for destroying them, especially as She seemed to sink under their burthen into the water. When after exercising my intelligence for even a long while I could not hit upon the means by which to accomplish the destruction of this overgrown population, it was then that wrath took possession of my breast." "'"'Sthanu said, "Do not give way to wrath, O lord of the deities, with respect to this matter about the destruction of living creatures. Be gratified. Let not these mobile and immobile beings be destroyed. All tanks, all kinds of grass and herbs, all immobile beings, and all mobile creatures also of the four varieties, are being consumed. The whole universe is about to be denuded of beings. Be gratified, O divine lord! O thou of righteous heart, even this is the boon that I solicit at thy hands. If destroyed, these creatures would not come back. Therefore, let this energy of thine be neutralised by thy own energy. Actuated by compassion for all created beings find some means so that, O Grandsire, these living creatures may not burn. Oh, let not these living creatures perish with even their descendants thus destroyed. Thou hast appointed me as the presider over the consciousness of all living creatures, O lord of all the lords of the universe. All this mobile and immobile universe of life, O lord of the universe, hath sprung from thee. Pacifying thee, O god of gods, I beg of thee that living creatures may repeatedly come back into the world, undergoing repeated deaths."' "'"Narada continued, 'Hearing these words of Sthanu, the divine Brahman of restrained speech and mind himself suppressed that energy of his within his own heart. Suppressing that fire that had been devastating the universe, the illustrious Brahman, adored of all, and possessed of illimitable puissance, then arranged for both birth and death in respect of all living creatures. After the Selfborn had withdrawn and suppressed that fire, there came out, from all the outlets of his body, a lady attired in robes of black and red, with black eyes, black palms, wearing a pair of excellent ear-rings, and adorned with celestial ornaments. Having sprung from Brahman's body, the lady took her station on his right. The two foremost of deities thereupon looked at her. Then, O king, the puissant Selfborn, the original cause of all the worlds, saluted her and said, "O Death, slay these creatures of the universe. Filled with anger and resolved to bring about the destruction of created beings, I have called thee.[1110] Do thou, therefore, commence to destroy all creatures foolish or learned. O lady, slay all created beings without making exception in anybody's favour. At my command thou wilt win great prosperity." Thus addressed, the goddess, Death, adorned with a garland of lotuses, began to reflect sorrowfully and shed copious tears. Without allowing her tears, however, to fall down, she held them, O king, in her joined palms. She then besought the Self-born, impelled by the desire of doing good to mankind.'"'" SECTION CCLVIII "'"Narada said, 'The large-eyed lady, controlling her grief by an effort of her own, addressed the Grandsire, with joined hands and bending in an attribute of humility like a creeper. And she said, "How, O foremost of speakers, shall a lady like me that has sprung from thee proceed to accomplish such a terrible feat,--a feat, that is, which is sure to inspire all living creatures with dread? I fear to do aught that is iniquitous. Do thou appoint such work for me as is righteous. Thou seest that I am frightened. Oh, cast a compassionate glance upon me. I shall not be able to cut off living creatures,--infants, youths, and aged ones,--who have done me no injury. O lord of all creatures, I bow to thee, be gratified with me. I shall not be able to cut off dear sons and loved friends and brothers and mothers and fathers. If these die (through my act), their surviving relatives will surely curse me. I am filled with fear at the prospect of this.[1111] The tears of the sorrow-stricken survivors will burn me for eternity. I am very much afraid of them (whose relatives I shall have to cut off). I seek thy protection. All sinful creatures (slain by me) will have to sink into the infernal regions. I seek to gratify thee, O boon-giving god! Extend to me thy grace, O puissant lord! I seek the gratification of this wish, O Grandsire, of all the worlds. O foremost of all the gods, I seek, through thy grace, even this object, viz., permission to undergo severe austerities." "'"'The Grandsire said, "O Death, thou hast been intended by me for the destruction of all creatures. Go, and set thyself to the task of slaying all. Do not reflect (upon the propriety or otherwise of this act). This must certainly be. It cannot be otherwise. O sinless one, O lady of faultless limbs, do thou accomplish the behest I have uttered." Thus addressed, O thou of mighty arms, the lady called Death, O conqueror of hostile cities, spoke not a word, but humbly stood there with her eyes upturned towards the puissant Lord of all creatures. Brahman addressed her repeatedly, but the lady seemed to be herself deprived of life. Beholding her thus, the god of gods, that lord of lords, became silent. Indeed, the Self-born, by an effort of his will, became gratified. Smiling, the lord of all the worlds then cast his eyes on the universe. It has been heard by us that when that unconquered and illustrious lord subdued his wrath, the lady (called Death) went away from his side. Leaving Brahman's side without having promised to accomplish the destruction of living creatures, Death quickly proceeded, O king, to the sacred spot known by the name of Dhenuka. There the goddess practised the severest austerities for five and ten billions of years, all the while standing upon one foot.[1112] After she practised such exceedingly severe austerities in that place, Brahman of great energy once more said unto her, "Do thou accomplish my behest, O Death!" Disregarding this command, the lady once more practised penances standing upon one foot for twenty billions of years, O giver of honours! And once more, O son, she led a life in the woods with the deer for another long period consisting of ten thousand billions of years.[1113] And once, O foremost of men, she passed twice ten thousand years, living upon air only as her sustenance. Once again, O monarch, she observed the excellent vow of silence for eight thousand years, passing the whole time in water. Then that maiden, O best of kings, went to the river Kausiki. There she began to pass her days in the observance of another vow, living the while upon only water and air. After this, O monarch, the blessed maiden proceeded to the Ganges and thence to the mountains of Meru. Moved by the desire of doing good to all living creatures, she stood perfectly motionless there like a piece of wood. Proceeding thence to the summit of Himavat where the deities had performed their great sacrifice, she stood there for another hundred billions of years, supporting her weight upon only the toes of her feet with the object of gratifying the Grandsire with such an act of austerity. Wending thither, the Creator and Destroyer of the universe again addressed her saying, "Upon what art thou engaged, O daughter? Accomplish those words of mine." Addressing the divine Grandsire, the maiden once more said, "I am unable to cut off living creatures, O god! I seek to gratify thee (so that I may be excused of this behest)." Frightened at the prospect of demerit she prayed the Grandsire for being excused of obedience to his command, the Grandsire silenced her, and once more addressed her, saying, "No demerit will accrue, O Death! Do thou, O auspicious maiden, set thyself to the task of destroying living creatures. That which I have uttered, O amiable girl, cannot certainly be falsified. Eternal righteousness shall now take refuge in thee. Myself and all the deities shall always be employed in seeking thy good. This other wish that is in thy heart I grant thee. Living creatures shall be afflicted by disease, and (dying) shall cast the blame on thee. Thou shalt become a male in all male beings, a female in all female beings, and a eunuch in all those that are of the third sex."[1114] Thus addressed by Brahman, O king, the maiden at last said, with joined hands unto that high-souled and undeteriorating lord of all the deities, these words, "I am unable to obey thy command." The great God, without relenting, again, said unto her, "O Death, do thou kill men. I shall so ordain that thou shalt not incur any demerit by doing this, O auspicious lady! Those tear drops that I see fallen from thy eyes, and that thou still boldest in thy joined hands, shall take the form of terrible diseases and even they shall destroy men when their hours come. When the end comes of living creatures, thou shalt despatch Desire and Wrath together against them. Immeasurable merit shall be thine. Thou shalt not incur iniquity, being thyself perfectly equal in thy behaviour.[1115] By doing this thou wilt only observe righteousness instead of sinking thyself into iniquity. Do thou, therefore, set thy heart upon the task at hand, and addressing Desire and Wrath begin to slay all living creatures." Thus addressed, that lady, called by the name of Death, became afraid of Brahman's curse and answered him, saying, "Yes!" From that time she began to despatch Desire and Wrath as the last hours of living creatures and through their agency to put a stop to their life-breaths. Those tears that Death had shed are the diseases by which the bodies of men become afflicted. At the destruction, therefore, of living creatures, one should not, understanding, with the aid of the intelligence (to what cause such destruction is due), give way to grief. As the senses of all creatures disappear when the latter become plunged into dreamless sleep and return once more when they awake, after the same manner all human beings, upon the dissolution of their bodies, have to go into the other world and return thence to this, O lion among kings! The element called wind, that is endued with terrible energy and mighty prowess and deafening roars, operates as the life in all living creatures. That wind, when the bodies of living creatures are destroyed, escaping from the old becomes engaged in diverse functions in diverse new bodies. For this reason, the wind is called the lord of the senses and is distinguished above the other elements constituting the gross body. The gods, without exception, (when their merits cease), have to take birth as mortal creatures on earth. Similarly, all mortal creatures also (when they acquire sufficient merit), succeed in attaining to the status of gods. Therefore, O lion among kings, do not grieve for thy son. Thy son has attained to heaven and is enjoying great happiness there! It was thus, O monarch, that Death was created by the Self-born and it is in this way that she cuts off duly all living creatures when their hours come. The tears she had shed become diseases, which, when their last hours come, snatch away all beings endued with life.'"'" SECTION CCLIX "'Yudhishthira said, "All men that inhabit this earth are filled with doubts in respect of the nature of righteousness. Who is this that is called Righteousness? Whence also does Righteousness come? Tell me this, O Grandsire! Is Righteousness for service in this world or is it for service in the next world? Or, is it for service both here and hereafter? Tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "The practices of the good, the Smritis, and the Vedas, are the three indications (sources) of righteousness. Besides these, the learned have declared that the purpose (for which an act is accomplished) is the fourth indication of righteousness.[1116] The Rishis of old have declared what acts are righteous and also classified them as superior or inferior in point of merit. The rules of righteousness have been laid down for the conduct of the affairs of the world. In both the worlds, that is, here and hereafter, righteousness produces happiness as its fruits. A sinful person unable to acquire merit by subtile ways, becomes stained with sin only. Some are of opinion that sinful persons can never be cleansed of their sins. In seasons of distress, a person by even speaking an untruth acquires the merit of speaking the truth, even as a person who accomplishes an unrighteous act acquires by that very means the merit of having done a righteous act. Conduct is the refuge of righteousness. Thou shouldst know what righteousness is, aided by conduct.[1117] (It is the nature of man that he neither sees nor proclaims his own faults but notices and proclaims those of others). The very thief, stealing what belongs to others, spends the produce of his theft in acts of apparent virtue. During a time of anarchy, the thief takes great pleasure in appropriating what belongs to others. When others, however, rob him of what he has acquired by robbery, he then wishes forthwith for a king (for invoking punishment on the head of the offenders). At even such a time, when his indignation for offended rights of property is at its highest, he secretly covets the wealth of those that are contented with their own. Fearlessly and without a doubt in his mind (when he is himself the victim of a robbery) he repairs to the king's palace with a mind cleansed of every sin. Within even his own heart he does not see the stain of any evil act.[1118] To speak the truth is meritorious. There is nothing higher than truth. Everything is upheld by truth, and everything rests upon truth. Even the sinful and ferocious, swearing to keep the truth amongst themselves, dismiss all grounds of quarrel and uniting with one another set themselves to their (sinful) tasks, depending upon truth. If they behaved falsely towards one another, they would then be destroyed without doubt. One should not take what belongs to others. That is an eternal obligation. Powerful men regard it as one that has been introduced by the weak. When, however, the destiny of these men becomes adverse, this injunction then meets with their approval. Then again they that surpass others in strength or prowess do not necessarily become happy.[1119] Therefore, do not ever set thy heart on any act that is wrong. One behaving in this way hath no fear of dishonest men or thieves or the king. Not having done any injury to any one, such a man lives fearlessly and with a pure heart. A thief fears everybody, like a deer driven from the woods into the midst of an inhabited village. He thinks other people to be as sinful as himself. One that is of pure heart is always filled with cheerfulness and hath no fear from any direction. Such a person never sees his own misconduct in others.[1120] Persons engaged in doing good to all creatures have said that the practice of charity is another high duty. They that are possessed of wealth think that this duty has been laid down by those that are indigent. When, however, those wealthy men meet with poverty in consequence of some turn of fortune, the practice of charity then recommends itself to them. Men that are exceedingly wealthy do not necessarily meet with happiness.[1121] Knowing how painful it is to himself, a person should never do that to others which he dislikes when done to him by others.[1122] What can one who becomes the lover of another man's wife say to another man (guilty of the same transgression)? It is seen, however, that even such a one, when he sees his lady with another lover, becomes unable to forgive the act.[1123] How can one who, to draw breath himself think of preventing another by a murderous act, from doing the same? Whatever wishes one entertains with respect to one's own self, one should certainly cherish with respect to another. With the surplus wealth one may happen to own one should relieve the wants of the indigent. It is for this reason that the Creator ordained the practice of increasing one's wealth (by trade or laying it out at interest).[1124] One should walk along that path by proceeding along which one may hope to meet with the deities; or, at such times when wealth is gained, adherence to the duties of sacrifice and gift is laudable. [1125] The sages have said that the accomplishment of the objects by means of agreeable (pacific) means is righteousness. See, O Yudhishthira, that even this is the criterion that has been kept in view in declaring the indications of righteousness and iniquity.[1126] In days of old the Creator ordained righteousness endowing it with the power of holding the world together. The conduct of the good, that is fraught with excellence, is subjected to (numerous) restraints for acquiring righteousness which depends upon many delicate considerations. The indications of righteousness have now been recounted to thee, O foremost one of Kuru's race! Do not, therefore, at any time set thy understanding upon any act that is wrong."'" SECTION CCLX "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou sayest that righteousness or duty depends upon delicate considerations, that is indicated by the conduct of those that are called good, that it is fraught with restraints (from numerous acts), and that its indications are also contained in the Vedas. It seems to me, however, that I have a certain inward light in consequence of which I can discriminate between right and wrong by inferences.[1127] Numerous questions that I had intended to ask thee have all been answered by thee. There is one question, however, that I shall presently ask. It is not prompted, O king, by desire of empty disputation. All these embodied creatures, it seems, take birth, exist, and leave their bodies, of their own nature. Duty and its reverse, therefore, cannot be ascertained, O Bharata, by study of the scriptures alone.[1128] The duties of a person who is well off are of one kind. Those of a person who has fallen into distress are of another kind. How can duty respecting seasons of distress be ascertained by reading the scriptures alone?[1129] The acts of the good, thou hast said, constitute righteousness (or duty). The good, however, are to be ascertained by their acts. The definition, therefore, has for its foundation, a begging of the question, with the result that what is meant by conduct of the good remains unsettled. It is seen that some ordinary person commits unrighteousness while apparently achieving righteousness. Some extraordinary persons again may be seen who achieve righteousness by committing acts that are apparently unrighteous.[1130] Then, again, the proof (of what I say) has been furnished by even those that are well conversant with the scriptures themselves, for it has been heard by us that the ordinances of the Vedas disappear gradually in every successive age. The duties in the Krita age are of one kind. Those in the Treta are of another kind, and those in the Dwapara are again different. The duties in the Kali age, again, are entirely of another kind. It seems, therefore, that duties have been laid down for the respective ages according to the powers of human beings in the respective ages. When, therefore, all the declarations in the Vedas do not apply equally to all the ages, the saying that the declarations of the Vedas are true is only a popular form of speech indulged in for popular satisfaction. From the Srutis have originated the Smritis whose scope again is very wide. If the Vedas be authority for everything, then authority would attach to the Smritis also for the latter are based on the former. When, however, the Srutis and the Smritis contradict each other, how can either be authoritative? Then again, it is seen that when some wicked persons of great might cause certain portions of certain courses of righteous acts to be stopped, these are destroyed for ever.[1131] Whether we know it or know it not, whether we are able to ascertain it or not to ascertain it, the course of duty is finer than the edge of a razor and grosser than even a mountain. Righteousness (in the form of sacrifices and other religious acts) at first appears in the form of the romantic edifices of vapour seen in the distant sky. When, however, it is examined by the learned, it disappears and becomes invisible.[1132] Like the small ponds at which the cattle drink or the shallow aqueducts along cultivated fields that dry up very soon, the eternal practices inculcated in the Smritis, falling into discontinuance, at last disappear totally (in the Kali age). Amongst men that are not good some are seen to become hypocrites (in respect of the acquisition of righteousness) by suffering themselves to be urged by desire. Some become so, urged by the wishes of others. Others, numbering many, tread in the same path, influenced by diverse other motives of a similar character.[1133] It cannot be denied that such acts (though accomplished by persons under the influence of evil passions) are righteous. Fools, again, say that righteousness is an empty sound among those called good. They ridicule such persons and regard them as men destitute of reason. Many great men, again, turning back (from the duties of their own order) betake themselves to the duties of the kingly order. No such conduct, therefore, is to be seen (as observed by any man), which is fraught with universal benevolence.[1134] By a certain course of conduct one becomes really meritorious. That very course of conduct obstructs another in the acquisition of merit. Another, by practising at his pleasure that conduct, it is seen, remains unchanged.[1135] Thus that conduct by which one becomes meritorious impedes another in the acquisition of merit. One may thus see that all courses of conduct are seen to lose singleness of purpose and character. It seems, therefore, that only that which the learned of ancient times called righteousness is righteousness to this day: and through that course of conduct (which the learned so settled) the distinctions and limitations (that govern the world) have become eternal."'"[1136] SECTION CCLXI "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the conversation of Tuladhara with Jajali on the topic of righteousness. There was once a Brahmana of the name of Jajali who lived in a certain forest, practising the ways of a forest-recluse.[1137] Of austere penances, he proceeded on a certain occasion towards the sea-shore, and having arrived there began to practise the most severe penances. Observing many vows and restraints, his food regulated by many rules of fast, his body clad in rags and skins, bearing matted locks on his head his entire person smeared with filth and clay, that Brahmana possessed of intelligence passed many years there, suspending speech (and engaged in Yoga meditation). Possessed of great energy, that regenerate ascetic, O monarch, while living within the waters (of the sea), roamed through all the worlds with the speed of the mind, desirous of seeing all things.[1138] Having beheld the whole earth bounded by the ocean and adorned with rivers and lakes and woods, the ascetic one day, while sitting under the water, began to think in this strain, 'In this world of mobile and immobile creatures there is none equal to me, who can roam with me among the stars and planets in the firmament and dwell again within the waters.' Unseen by the Rakshasas while he repeated this to himself, the Pisachas said unto him, 'It behoves thee not to say so. There is a man, named Tuladhara, possessed of great fame and engaged in the business of buying and selling. Even he, O best of regenerate persons, is not worthy of saying such words as thou sayest.' Thus addressed by those beings, Jajali of austere penances replied unto them, saying, 'I shall see that famous Tuladhara who is possessed of such wisdom.' When the Rishi said those words, those superhuman beings raised him from the sea, and said unto him, 'O best of regenerate persons, go thou along this road.' Thus addressed by those beings, Jajali proceeded onwards with a cheerless heart. Arrived at Varanasi he met Tuladhara whom he addressed saying the following words." "'Yudhishthira said, "What, O sire, are those difficult feats that Jajali had performed before in consequence of which he had acquired such high success? It behoveth thee to describe them to me." "'Bhishma said, "Jajali had become engaged in penances of the severest austerities. He used to perform ablutions morning and evening. Carefully tending his fires, he was devoted to the study of the Vedas. Well-conversant with the duties laid down for forest recluses, Jajali (in consequence of his practices) seemed to blaze with effulgence.[1139] He continued to live in the woods, engaged all the while in penances. But he never regarded himself as one that had acquired any merit by his acts. In the season of the rains he slept under the open sky. In autumn he sat in water. In summer he exposed himself to the sun and the wind. Still he never regarded himself as one that had acquired any merit through such acts. He used to sleep on diverse kinds of painful beds and also on the bare earth. Once on a time, that ascetic, while standing under the sky in the rainy season, received on his head repeated downpours from the clouds. He had to pass through the woods repeatedly. What with exposure to the rains and what with the filth they caught, the locks of that sinless Rishi became entangled and intertwined with one another. On one occasion, that great ascetic, abstaining entirely from food and living upon air only, stood in the forest like a post of wood. Unmoved at heart, he stood there, without once stirring an inch. While he stood there like a wooden post, perfectly immovable, O Bharata, a pair of Kulinga birds, O king, built their nest on his head. Filled with compassion, the great Rishi suffered that feathery couple in building their nest among his matted locks with shreds of grass. And as the ascetic stood there like a post of wood, the two birds lived with confidence on his head happily. The rains passed away and autumn came. The couple, urged by desire, approached each other according to the law of the Creator, and in complete confidence laid their eggs, O king, on the head of that Rishi. Of rigid vows and possessed of energy, the ascetic knew it. Knowing what the birds had done, Jajali moved not. Firmly resolved to acquire merit, no act that involved the slightest injury to others could recommend itself to him. The feathery couple going away and moving every day from and to his head, happily and confidently lived there, O puissant king! When in the progress of time the eggs became mature and young ones came out, they began to grow up in that nest, for Jajali moved not in the least. Firm in the observance of his vows, the righteous-souled Rishi continued to hold and protect those eggs by standing on that very spot perfectly motionless and rapt in Yoga meditation. In course of time the young ones grew and became equipped with wings. The Muni knew that the young Kulingas had attained to that stage of development. That foremost of intelligent men, steady in the observance of vows, one day beheld those young ones and became filled with pleasure. The parent-birds, seeing their young ones equipped with wings, became very happy and continued to dwell in the Rishi's head with them in perfect safety. The learned Jajali saw that when the young birds became equipped with wings they took to the air every evening and returned to his head without having proceeded far. He still stood motionless on that spot. Sometimes, after he saw that, left by their parents, they went out by themselves and returned again by themselves. Jajali still moved not. A little while after, the young birds going away in the morning passed the whole day out of his sight, but came back in the evening for dwelling in the nest. Sometimes, after that, leaving their nest for five days at a stretch, they returned on the sixth day. Jajali still moved not. Subsequently, when their strength became fully developed they left him and returned not at all even after many days. At last, on one occasion, leaving him, they came not even after a month. Then, O king, Jajali left that spot. When they had thus gone away for good, Jajali wondered much, and thought that he had achieved ascetic success. Then pride entered his heart. Firm in the observance of vows, the great ascetic, seeing the birds thus leave him after having been reared on his head, thought highly of himself, and became filled with delight. He, then, bathed in a stream and poured libations on the sacred fire, and paid his adorations to the rising Sun indeed, having thus caused those chataka birds to grow on his head, Jajali, that foremost of ascetics, began to slap his armpits and proclaim loudly through the sky, '_I have won great merit_.' Then an invisible voice arose in the sky and Jajali heard these words, 'Thou art not equal, O Jajali, to Tuladhara in point of righteousness. Possessed of great wisdom, that Tuladhara lives at Baranasi. Even he is not fit to say what thou sayest, O regenerate one.' Hearing these words, Jajali became filled with wrath, and desirous of meeting Tuladhara, O monarch, began to roam over the whole earth, observing the vow of silence and passing the night at that spot where evening overtook him.[1140] After a considerable time he reached the city of Baranasi, and saw Tuladhara engaged in selling miscellaneous articles.[1141] As soon as the shop-keeper Tuladhara beheld the Brahmana arrived at his place, he cheerfully stood up and worshipped the guest with proper salutations.[1142] "'"Tuladhara said, 'Without doubt, O Brahmana, it is known to me that thou hast come to _me_. Listen, however, O foremost of regenerate persons, to what I say. Living on a low land near the sea-shore thou underwentest very austere penances. But thou hadst no consciousness of having achieved righteousness or merit. When thou didst at last attain to ascetic success, certain birds were born on thy head. Thou tookest great care of the little creatures. When at last those birds became equipped with wings and when they began to leave thy head for going hither and thither in search of food, it was then that, in consequence of having thus assisted at the birth of those Chatakas, thou begannest to feel the impulse of pride, O Brahmana, thinking thou hadst achieved great merit.[1143] Then, O foremost of regenerate persons, thou heardest in the sky a voice that referred to me. The words thou didst hear filled thee with wrath, and as the consequence thereof thou art here. Tell me, what wish of thine I shall accomplish, O best of Brahmanas!'"'" SECTION CCLXII "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed by the intelligent Tuladhara on that occasion, Jajali of great intelligence, that foremost of ascetics, said these words unto him. "'"Jajali said, 'Thou sellest all kinds of juices and scents, O son of a trader, as also (barks and leaves of) large trees and herbs and their fruits and roots. How hast thou succeeded in acquiring a certitude or stability of understanding? Whence hath this knowledge come to thee? O thou of great intelligence, tell me all this in detail.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by that Brahmana possessed of great fame, Tuladhara of the Vaisya order, well acquainted with the truths touching the interpretations of morality and contented with knowledge, discoursed to Jajali who had undergone severe penances, upon the ways of morality.[1144] "'"Tuladhara said, 'O Jajali, I know morality, which is eternal, with all its mysteries. It is nothing else than that ancient morality which is known to all, and which consists of universal friendliness, and is fraught with beneficence to all creatures.[1145] That mode of living which is founded upon a total harmlessness towards all creatures or (in case of actual necessity) upon a minimum of such harm, is the highest morality. I live according to that mode, O Jajali! This my house hath been built with wood and grass cut by other people's hands. Lac dye, the roots of Nymphaea lotus, filaments of the lotus, diverse kinds of good scents[1146] and many kinds of liquids, O regenerate Rishi, with the exception of wines, I purchase from other people's hand and sell without cheating. He, O Jajali, is said to know what morality or righteousness is, who is always the friend of all creatures and who is always engaged in the good of all creatures, in thought, word, and deed. I never solicit any one. I never quarrel with any one. I never cherish aversion for any one. I never cherish desire for anything. I cast equal eyes upon all things and all creatures. Behold, O Jajali, this is my vow! My scales are perfectly even, O Jajali, with respect to all creatures.[1147] I neither praise nor blame the acts of others, viewing this variety in the world, O foremost of Brahmanas, to be like the variety observable in the sky.[1148] Know, O Jajali, that I cast equal eye upon all creatures. O foremost of intelligent men, I see no difference between a clod of earth, a piece of stone, and a lump of gold. As the blind, the deaf, and they that are destitute of reason, are perfectly consoled for the loss of their senses, after the same manner am I consoled, by their example (for the enjoyments I abstain from).[1149] As they that are overtaken by decrepitude, they that are afflicted by disease, and they that are weakened and emaciated, have no relish for enjoyments of any kind, after the same manner have I ceased to feel any relish for wealth or pleasure or enjoyments. When a person fears nothing and himself is not feared, when he cherishes no desire and hath no aversion for anything, he is then said to attain to Brahma. When a person does not conduct himself sinfully towards any creature in thought, word, or deed, then is he said to attain to Brahma. There is no past, no future. There is no morality or righteousness. He who is not an object of fear with any creature succeeds in attaining to a state in which there is no fear.[1150] On the other hand, that person who for harshness of speech and severity of temper, is a source of trouble unto all creatures even as death itself, certainly attains to a state which abounds with fear. I follow the practices of high-souled and benevolent men of advanced years who with their children and children's children live in the due observance of the ordinance laid down in the scriptures.[1151] The eternal practices (laid down in the Vedas) are entirely given up by one who suffers himself to be stupefied by some errors that he may have noticed in the conduct of those that are admittedly good and wise. One, however, that is endued with learning, or one that has subdued one's senses, or one that is possessed of strength of mind, succeeds in attaining to Emancipation, guided by that very conduct.[1152] That wise man who, having restrained his senses, practiseth, with a heart cleansed from all desire of injuring others, the conduct that is followed by those called good, is sure, O Jajali, to acquire the merit of righteousness (and Emancipation which is its fruits). In this world, as in a river, a piece of wood that is being borne away by the current as it pleases, is seen to come into contact (for some time) with another piece that is being similarly borne away. There, on the current, other pieces of wood that had been joined together, are seen again to separate from one another. Grass, sticks, and cowdung cakes are seen to be united together. This union is due to accident and not to purpose or design.[1153] He of whom no creature is frightened in the least is himself, O ascetic, never frightened by any creature. He, on the other hand, O learned man, of whom every creature is frightened as of a wolf, becomes himself filled with fear as aquatic animals when forced to leap on the shore from fear of the roaring Vadava fire.[1154] This practice of universal harmlessness hath arisen even thus. One may follow it by every means in one's power. He who has followers and he who has wealth may seek to adopt it. It is sure to lead also to prosperity and heaven.[1155] In consequence of their ability to dispel the fears of others, men possessed of wealth and followers are regarded as foremost by the learned. They that are for ordinary happiness practise this duty of universal harmlessness for the sake of fame; while they that are truly skilled, practise the same for the sake of attaining to Brahma.[1156] Whatever fruits one enjoys by penances, by sacrifices, by practising liberality, by speaking the truth, and by paying court to wisdom, may all be had by practising the duty of harmlessness. That person who gives unto all creatures the assurance of harmlessness obtains the merit of all sacrifices and at last wins fearlessness for himself as his reward. There is no duty superior to the duty of abstention from injuring other creatures. He of whom, O great ascetic, no creature is frightened in the least, obtains for himself fearlessness of all creatures. He of whom everybody is frightened as one is of a snake ensconced within one's (sleeping) chamber, never acquires any merit in this world or in the next. The very gods, in their search after it, become stupefied in the track of that person who transcends all states, the person, viz., who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures and who looketh upon all creatures as identical with his own self.[1157] Of all gifts, the assurance of harmlessness to all creatures is the highest (in point of merit). I tell thee truly, believe me, O Jajali! One who betakes himself to acts at first wins prosperity, but then (upon the exhaustion of his merit) he once more encounters adversity. Beholding the destruction of (the merits of) acts, the wise do not applaud acts. There is no duty, O Jajali, that is not prompted by some motive (of happiness). Duty, however, is very subtile. Duties have been laid down in the Vedas for the sake of both Brahma and heaven.[1158] The subject of duties hath many secrets and mysteries. It is so subtile that it is not easy to understand it fully. Amongst diverse conflicting ordinances, some succeed in comprehending duty by observing the acts of the good.[1159] Why dost thou not consume them that emasculate bulls and bore their noses and cause them to bear heavy burthens and bind them and put them under diverse kinds of restraint, and that eat the flesh of living creatures after slaying them? Men are seen to own men as slaves, and by beating, by binding, and by otherwise subjecting them to restraints, cause them to labour day and night. These people are not ignorant of the pain that results from beating and fastening in chains.[1160] In every creature that is endued with the five senses live all the deities. Surya, Chandramas, the god of wind, Brahman, Prana, Kratu, and Yama (these dwell in living creatures). There are men that live by trafficking in living creatures! When they earn a living by such a sinful course, what scruples need they feel in selling dead carcases? The goat is Agni. The sheep is Varuna. The horse is Surya. Earth is the deity Virat. The cow and the calf are Soma. The man who sells these can never obtain success. But what fault can attach to the sale of oil, or of Ghrita, or honey, or drugs, O regenerate one? There are many animals that grow up in ease and comfort in places free from gnats and biting insects. Knowing that they are loved dearly by their mothers, men persecute them in diverse ways, and lead them into miry spots abounding with biting insects. Many draft animals are oppressed with heavy burthens. Others, again, are made to languish in consequence of treatment not sanctioned by the scriptures. I think that such acts of injury done to animals are in no way distinguished from foeticide. People regard the profession of agriculture to be sinless. That profession, however, is certainly fraught with cruelty. The iron-faced plough wounds the soil and many creatures that live in the soil. Cast thy eyes, O Jajali, on those bullocks yoked to the plough. Kine are called in the Srutis the Unslayable. That man perpetrates a great sin who slays a bull or a cow.[1161] In days of yore, many Rishis with restrained senses addressed Nahusha, saying, "Thou hast, O king, slain a cow which is declared in the scriptures to be like unto one's mother. Thou hast also slain a bull, which is declared to be like unto the Creator himself.[1162] Thou hast perpetrated an evil act, O Nahusha, and we have been exceedingly pained at it." For cleansing Nahusha, however, they divided that sin into a hundred and one parts and converting the fragments into diseases cast them among all creatures.[1163] Thus, O Jajali, did those highly-blessed Rishis cast that sin on all living creatures, and addressing Nahusha who had been guilty of foeticide, said, "We shall not be able to pour libations in thy sacrifice." Thus said those high-souled Rishis and Yatis conversant with the truths of all things, having ascertained by their ascetic power that king Nahusha had not been intentionally guilty of that sin.[1164] These, O Jajali, are some of the wicked and dreadful practices that are current in this world. Thou practisest them because they are practised by all men from ancient times, and not because they agree with the dictates of thy cleansed understanding. One should practise what one considers to be one's duty, guided by reasons, instead of blindly following the practices of the world. Listen now, O Jajali, as to what my behaviour is towards him that injures and him that praises me. I regard both of them in the same light. I have none whom I like and none whom I dislike. The wise applauded such a course of conduct as consistent with duty or religion. Even this course of conduct, which is consistent with reasons, is followed by Yatis. The righteous always observe it with eyes possessed of improved vision.'"'" SECTION CCLXIII "'"Jajali said, 'This course of duty that thou, O holder of scales, preachest, closes the door of heaven against all creatures and puts a stop to the very means of their subsistence. From agriculture comes food. That food offers subsistence even to thee. With the aid of animals and of crops and herbs, human beings, O trader, are enabled to support their existence. From animals and food sacrifices flow. Thy doctrines smack of atheism. This world will come to an end if the means by which life is supported have to be abandoned.' "'"Tuladhara said, 'I shall now speak on the object of the means of sustenance. I am not, O Brahmana, an atheist. I do not blame Sacrifices. The man, however, is very rare that is truly conversant with Sacrifice. I bow to that Sacrifice which is ordained for Brahmanas. I bow also to them that are conversant with that Sacrifice. Alas, the Brahmanas, having given up the Sacrifice that is ordained for them, have betaken themselves to the performance of Sacrifices that are for Kshatriyas.[1165] Many persons of faith, O regenerate one, that are covetous and fond of wealth, without having understood the true meaning of the declarations of the Srutis, and proclaiming things that are really false but that have the show of truth, have introduced many kinds of Sacrifices, saying, "This should be given away in this Sacrifice. This other thing should be given away in this other Sacrifice. The first of this is very laudable." The consequence, however, of all this, O Jajali, is that theft and many evil acts spring up.[1166] It should be known that only that sacrificial offering which was acquired by righteous means can gratify the gods. There are abundant indications in the scriptures that the worship of the deities may be accomplished with vows, with libations poured on the fire, with recitations or chanting of the Vedas, and with plants and herbs. From their religious acts unrighteous persons get wicked offspring. From covetous men are born children that are covetous, and from those that are contented spring children that are contented. If the sacrificer and the priest suffer themselves to be moved by desire of fruit (in respect of the Sacrifices they perform or assist in), their children take the stain. If, on the other hand, they do not yield to desire of fruit, the children born to them become of the same kind. From Sacrifices spring progeny like clear water from the firmament. The libations poured on the sacrificial fire rise up to the Sun. From the Sun springs rain. From rain springs food. From food are born living creatures. In former days, men righteously devoted to Sacrifices used to obtain therefrom the fruition of all their wishes. The earth yielded crops without tillage. The blessing uttered by the Rishis produced herbs and plants.[1167] The men of former times never performed Sacrifices from desire of fruits and never regarded themselves as called upon to enjoy those fruits. Those who somehow perform sacrifices, doubting the while their efficacy take birth in their next lives as dishonest, wily, and greedy men exceedingly covetous of wealth. That man who by the aid of false reasoning holds up all the authoritative scriptures as fraught with evil, is certain to go, for such sinful act of his, into the regions of the sinful. Such a man is certainly possessed of a sinful soul, O foremost of Brahmanas, and always remains here, bereft of wisdom.[1168] That man who regards those acts obligatory which have been laid down in the Vedas and directed to be accomplished every day, who is penetrated with fear if he fails to accomplish them any day, who takes all the essentials of Sacrifice as identical with Brahma, and who never regards himself as the actor, is truly a Brahmana.[1169] If the acts of such a person become incomplete, or if their completion be obstructed by all unclean animals, even then those acts are, as heard by us, of superior efficacy. If, however, those acts are done from desire of fruit (and their completion be obstructed by such impediments), then expiation would become necessary. They who covet the acquisition of the highest object of life (viz., Emancipation), who are bereft of cupidity in respect of all kinds of worldly wealth, who discard all provision for the future, and who are freed from envy, betake themselves to practice of truth and self-restraint as their Sacrifice.[1170] They that are conversant with the distinction between body and soul, that are devoted to Yoga, and that meditate on the Pranava, always succeed in gratifying others.[1171] The universal Brahma (viz., Pranava), which is the soul of the deities, dwells in him who is conversant with Brahma. When, therefore, such a man eats and is gratified, all the deities, O Jajali, become gratified and are contented.[1172] As one who is gratified with all kinds of taste feels no desire for any particular taste, after the same manner one who is gratified with knowledge hath everlasting gratification which to him is a source of perfect bliss. Those wise men who are the refuge of righteousness and whose delight is in righteousness, are persons that have certain knowledge of what is to be done and what should not be done. One possessed of such wisdom always regards all things in the universe to have sprung from his own Self.[1173] Some that are endued with knowledge, that strive to reach the other shore (of this ocean of life), and that are possessed of faith, succeed in attaining to the region of Brahman, which is productive of great blessings, highly sacred, and inhabited by righteous persons,--a region which is freed from sorrow, whence there is no return, and where there is no kind of agitation or pain. Such men do not covet heaven. They do not adore Brahma in costly sacrifices. They walk along the path of the righteous. The Sacrifices they perform are performed without injury to any creature.[1174] These men know trees and herbs and fruits and roots as the only sacrificial offerings. Covetous priests, for they are desirous of wealth, never officiate at the sacrifices of these (poor) men. These regenerate men, although all their acts have been completed, still perform sacrifices from desire of doing good to all creatures and constituting their own selves as sacrificial offerings.[1175] For this reason, grasping priests officiate at the Sacrifices of only those misguided persons who, without endeavouring to attain to Emancipation, seek for heaven. As regards those, however, that are really good, they always seek, by accomplishing their own duties, to cause others to ascend to heaven. Looking at both these kinds of behaviour, O Jajali, I have (abstained from injuring any creature in the world and have) come to regard all creatures with an equal heart.[1176] Endued with wisdom, many foremost of Brahmanas perform Sacrifices (which with respect to their fruits are of two kinds, for some of them lead to Emancipation whence there is no return, and others lead to regions of bliss whence there is return). By performing those Sacrifices, they proceed, O great ascetic, along paths trodden by the gods. Of one class of Sacrificers (viz., they who sacrifice from desire of fruit) there is return (from the region which they reach). Of those, however, that are truly wise (viz., those who sacrifice without being urged thereto by desire of fruit), there is no return. Although both classes of sacrificers, O Jajali, proceed along the path trodden by the deities (in consequence of the sacrifices they perform), yet such is the difference between their ultimate ends.[1177] In consequence of the success that attends the purposes formed in the mind of such men, bulls, without being forced thereto, willingly set their shoulders to the plough for assisting at tillage and to the yoke for dragging their cars, and kine pour forth milk from udders untouched by human hands. Creating sacrificial stakes (and other necessaries of Sacrifice) by simple fiats of the will, they perform many kinds of Sacrifice well-completed with abundant presents.[1178] One who is of such a cleansed soul may slaughter a cow (as an offering in Sacrifice).[1179] They, therefore, that are not of that kind should perform Sacrifices with herbs and plants (and not animals). Since Renunciation hath such merit, it is for that reason that I have kept it before my eyes in speaking to thee.[1180] The gods know him for a Brahmana who has given up all desire of fruit, who hath no exertion in respect of worldly acts, who never bows down his head unto any one, who never utters the praises of others, and who is endued with strength though his acts have all been weakened.[1181] What, O Jajali, will be the end of him who doth not recite the Vedas, unto others, who doth not perform Sacrifices (properly), who doth not make gifts unto (deserving) Brahmanas, and who followeth an avocation in which every kind of desire is indulged? By properly reverencing, however, the duties that appertain to Renunciation, one is sure of attaining to Brahma.'[1182] "'"Jajali said, 'We had never before, O son of a trader, heard of these recondite doctrines of ascetics that perform only mental Sacrifices. These doctrines are exceedingly difficult of comprehension. It is for this reason that I ask thee (about them). The sages of olden days were not followers of those doctrines of Yoga. Hence, the sages that have succeeded them have not propounded them (for general acceptance).[1183] If thou sayest that only men of brutish minds fail to achieve sacrifices in the soil of the Soul, then, O son of a trader, by what acts would they succeed in accomplishing their happiness? Tell me this, O thou of great wisdom! Great is my faith in thy words.'[1184] "'"Tuladhara said, 'Sometimes sacrifices performed by some persons do not become sacrifices (in consequence of the absence of faith of those that perform them). These men, it should be said, are not worthy of performing any sacrifice (internal or external). As regards the faithful, however, only one thing, viz., the cow, is fit for upholding all sacrifices by means of full libations of clarified butter, milk, and curds, the hair at end of her tail, her horns, and her hoofs.[1185] (The Vedas declare that sacrifices cannot be performed by an unmarried man). In performing sacrifices, however, according to the mode I have pointed out (viz., by abstaining from slaughter of animals and dedicating only clarified butter, etc.), one may make Faith one's wedded wife, for dedicating such (innocent) offerings to the deities. By duly reverencing such sacrifices, one is sure to attain to Brahma.[1186] To the exclusion of all animals (which are certainly unclean as offering in sacrifices), the rice-ball is a worthy offering in sacrifices. All rivers are as sacred as the Saraswati, and all mountains are sacred. O Jajali, the Soul is itself a Tirtha. Do not wander about on the earth for visiting sacred places. A person, by observing these duties (that I have spoken of and that do not involve injury to other creatures), and by seeking the acquisition of merit agreeably to his own ability, certainly succeeds in obtaining blessed regions hereafter.'"[1187] "'Bhishma continued, "These are the duties, O Yudhishthira, which Tuladhara applauded,--duties that are consistent with reason, and that are always observed by those that are good and wise."'" SECTION CCLXIV "'"Tuladhara said, 'See with thy own eyes, O Jajali, who, viz., those that are good or those that are otherwise, have adopted this path of duty that I have spoken of. Thou shalt then understand properly how the truth stands. Behold, many birds are hovering in the sky. Amongst them are those that were reared on thy head, as also many hawks and many others of other species. Behold, O Brahmana, those birds have contracted their wings and legs for entering their respective nests. Summon them, O regenerate one! There those birds, treated with affection by thee, are displaying their love for thee that art their father. Without doubt, thou art their father, O Jajali! Do thou summon thy children.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Then those birds, summoned by Jajali, made answer agreeably to the dictates of that religion which is not fraught with injury to any creature.[1188] 'All acts that are done without injuring any creature become serviceable (to the doer) both here and hereafter. Those acts, however, that involve injury to others, destroy faith, and faith being destroyed, involves the destroyer in ruin. The sacrifices of those that regard acquisition and non-acquisition in the same light, that are endued with faith, that are self-restrained, that have tranquil minds, and that perform sacrifices from a sense of duty (and not from desire of fruit), become productive of fruit.[1189] Faith with respect to Brahma is the daughter of Surya, O regenerate one. She is the protectress and she is the giver of good birth. Faith is superior to the merit born of (Vedic) recitations and meditation.[1190] An act vitiated by defect of speech is saved by Faith. An act vitiated by defect of mind is saved by Faith. But neither speech nor mind can save an act that is vitiated by want of Faith.[1191] Men conversant with the occurrences of the past recite in this connection the following verse sung by Brahman. The offerings in sacrifices of a person that is pure (in body and acts) but wanting in Faith, and of another that is impure (in respect of their worthiness of acceptance). The food, again, of a person conversant with the Vedas but miserly in behaviour, and that of a usurer that is liberal in conduct,[1192] the deities after careful consideration, had held to be equal (in respect of their worthiness of acceptance). The Supreme Lord of all creatures (viz., Brahman) then told them that they had committed an error. The food of a liberal person is sanctified by Faith. The food, however, of the person that is void of Faith is lost in consequence of such want of Faith. The food of a liberal usurer is acceptable but not the food of a miser.[1193] Only one person in the world, viz., he that is bereft of Faith, is unfit to make offerings to the deities. The food of only such a man is unfit to be eaten. This is the opinion of men conversant with duties. Want of Faith is a high sin. Faith is a cleanser of sins. Like a snake casting off its slough, the man of Faith succeeds in casting off all his sin. The religion of abstention with Faith is superior to all things considered sacred. Abstaining from all faults of behaviour, he who betakes himself to Faith, becomes sanctified. What need hath such a person of penances, or of conduct, or of endurance? Every man has Faith. Faith, however, is of three kinds, viz., as affected by Sattwa, by Rajas and by Tamas, and according to the kind of Faith that one has, one is named. Persons endued with goodness and possessed of insight into the true import of morality have thus laid down the subject of duties. We have, as the result of our enquiries, got all this from the sage Dharmadarsana. O thou of great wisdom, betake thyself to Faith, for thou shalt then obtain that which is superior. He who has Faith (in the declarations of the Srutis), and who acts according to their import (in the belief that they are good for him), is certainly of righteous soul. O Jajali, he who adheres to his own path (under the influence of Faith) is certainly a superior person.'" "'Bhishma continued, "After a short while, Tuladhara and Jajali, both of whom had been endued with great wisdom, ascended to heaven and sported there in great happiness,[1194] having reached their respective places earned by their respective acts. Many truths of this kind were spoken of by Tuladhara. That eminent person understood this religion (of abstention from injury) completely. These eternal duties were accordingly proclaimed by him. The regenerate Jajali, O son of Kunti, having heard these words of celebrated energy, betook himself to tranquillity. In this way, many truths of grave import were uttered by Tuladhara, illustrated by examples for instruction. What other truths dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION CCLXV "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited an old narrative of what was recited by king Vichakhy through compassion for all creatures. Beholding the mangled body of a bull, and hearing the exceedingly painful groans of the kine in a cow-slaying sacrifice, and observing the cruel Brahmanas that gathered there for assisting at the ceremonies, that king[1195] uttered these words, 'Prosperity to all the kine in the world.' When the slaughter had commenced, these words expressive of a blessing (to those helpless animals) were pronounced. And the monarch further said, 'Only those that are transgressors of defined limits, that are destitute of intelligence, that are atheists and sceptics, and that desire the acquisition of celebrity through sacrifices and religious rites speak highly of the slaughter of animals in sacrifices.[1196] The righteous-souled Manu has applauded (the observance of) harmlessness in all (religious) acts. Indeed, men slaughter animals in sacrifices, urged by only the desire of fruit.[1197] Hence, guided by authority (in respect of slaughter and abstention from slaughter or harmlessness) one conversant (with the scriptures) should practise the true course of duty which is exceedingly subtile. Harmlessness to all creatures is the highest of all duties. Living in the vicinity of an inhabited place and injuring oneself to the observance of rigid vows, and disregarding the fruits indicated of Vedic acts, one should give up domesticity, adopting a life of Renunciation. Only they that are mean are urged by the desire of fruit.[1198] Reverentially mentioning sacrifices and trees and sacrificial stakes, men do not eat tainted meat. This practice, however, is not worthy of applause.[1199] Wine, fish, honey, meat, alcohol, and preparations of rice and sesame seeds, have been introduced by knaves. The use of these (in sacrifices) is not laid down in the Vedas. The hankering after these arises from pride, error of judgment, and cupidity. They that are true Brahmanas realise the presence of Vishnu in every sacrifice. His worship, it has been laid down, should be made with agreeable Payasa. (The leaves and flowers of) such trees as have been indicated in the Vedas, whatever act is regarded as worthy and whatever else is held as pure by persons of pure hearts and cleansed natures and those eminent for knowledge and holiness, are all worthy of being offered to the Supreme Deity and not unworthy of His acceptance.'"[1200] "'Yudhishthira said, "The body and all sorts of dangers and calamities are continually at war with each other. How, therefore, will a person who is totally free from the desire of harming and who on this account will not be able to act, succeed in keeping up his body?"[1201] "'Bhishma said, "One should, when able, acquire merit and act in such a way that one's body may not languish and suffer pain, and that death may not come."'"[1202] SECTION CCLXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou, O grandsire, art our highest preceptor in the matter of all acts that are difficult of accomplishment (in consequence of the commands of superiors on the one hand and the cruelty that is involved in them on the other). I ask, how should one judge of an act in respect of either one's obligation to do it or of abstaining from it? Is it to be judged speedily or with delay?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of what occurred with respect to Chirakarin born in the race of Angirasa. Twice blessed be the man that reflects long before he acts. One that reflects long before he acts is certainly possessed of great intelligence. Such a man never offends in respect of any act. There was once a man of great wisdom, of the name of Chirakarin, who was the son of Gautama. Reflecting for a long time upon every consideration connected with proposed acts, he used to do all he had to do. He came to be called by the name of Chirakarin because he used to reflect long upon all matters, to remain awake for a long time, to sleep for a long time, and to take a long time in setting himself to the accomplishment of such acts as he accomplished. The clamour of being an idle man stuck to him. He was also regarded as a foolish person, by every person of a light understanding and destitute of foresight. On a certain occasion, witnessing an act of great fault in his wife, the sire Gautama passing over his other children, commanded in wrath this Chirakarin, saying, 'Slay thou this woman.' Having said these words without much reflection, the learned Gautama, that foremost of persons engaged in the practice of Yoga, that highly blessed ascetic, departed for the woods. Having after a long while assented to it, saying, 'So be it,' Chirakarin, in consequence of his very nature, and owing to his habit of never accomplishing any act without long reflection, began to think for a long while (upon the propriety or otherwise of what he was commanded by his sire to do). 'How shall I obey the command of my sire and yet how avoid slaying my mother? How shall I avoid sinking, like a wicked person, into sin in this situation in which contradictory obligations are dragging me into opposite directions? Obedience to the commands of the sire constitutes the highest merit. The protection of the mother again is a clear duty. The status of a son is fraught with dependence. How shall I avoid being afflicted by sin? Who is there that can be happy after having slain a woman, especially his mother? Who again can obtain prosperity and fame by disregarding his own sire? Regard for the sire's behest is obligatory. The protection of my mother is equally a duty. How shall I so frame my conduct that both obligations may be discharged? The father places his own self within the mother's womb and takes birth as the son, for continuing his practices, conduct, name and race. I have been begotten as a son by both my mother and my father. Knowing as I do my own origin, why should I not have this knowledge (of my relationship with both of them)? The words uttered by the sire while performing the initial rite after birth, and those that were uttered by him on the occasion of the subsidiary rite (after the return from the preceptor's abode) are sufficient (evidence) for settling the reverence due to him and indeed, confirm the reverence actually paid to him.[1203] In consequence of his bringing up the son and instructing him, the sire is the son's foremost of superiors and the highest religion. The very Vedas lay it down as certain that the son should regard what the sire says as his highest duty. Unto the sire the son is only a source of joy. Unto the son, however, the sire is all in all. The body and all else that the son owns have the sire alone for their giver. Hence, the behests of the sire should be obeyed without ever questioning them in the least. The very sins of one that obeys one's sire are cleansed (by such obedience). The sire is the giver of all articles of food, of instructions in the Vedas, and of all other knowledge regarding the world. (Prior to the son's birth) the sire is the performer of such rites as Garbhadhana and Simantonnayana.[1204] The sire is religion. The sire is heaven. The sire is the highest penance. The sire being gratified, all the deities are gratified. Whatever words are pronounced by the sire become blessings that attach to the son. The words expressive of joy that the sire utters cleanse the son of all his sins. The flower is seen to fall away from the stalk. The fruit is seen to fall away from the tree. But the sire, whatever his distress, moved by parental affection, never abandons the son. These then are my reflections upon the reverence due from the son to the sire. Unto the son the sire is not an ordinary object. I shall now think upon (what is due to) the mother. Of this union of the five (primal) elements in me due to my birth as a human being, the mother is the (chief) cause as the firestick of fire.[1205] The mother is as the fire-stick with respect to the bodies of all men. She is the panacea for all kinds of calamities. The existence of the mother invests one with protection; the reverse deprives one of all protection. The man who, though divested of prosperity, enters his house, uttering the words, "O mother!"--hath not to indulge in grief. Nor doth decrepitude ever assail him. A person whose mother exists, even if he happens to be possessed of sons and grandsons and even if he counts a hundred years, looks like a child of but two years of age. Able or disabled, lean or robust, the son is always protected by the mother. None else, according to the ordinance, is the son's protector. Then doth the son become old, then doth he become stricken with grief, then doth the world look empty in his eyes, when he becomes deprived of his mother. There is no shelter (protection against the sun) like the mother. There is no refuge like the mother. There is no defence like the mother. There is no one so dear as the mother. For having borne him in her womb the mother is the son's Dhatri. For having been the chief cause of his birth, she is his Janani. For having nursed his young limbs into growth, she is called Amva. For bringing forth a child possessed of courage she is called Virasu. For nursing and looking after the son she is called Sura. The mother is one's own body. What rational man is there that would slay his mother, to whose care alone it is due that his own head did not lie on the street-side like a dry gourd? When husband and wife unite themselves for procreation, the desire cherished with respect to the (unborn) son are cherished by both, but in respect of their fruition more depends upon the mother than on the sire.[1206] The mother knows the family in which the son is born and the father who has begotten him. From the moment of conception the mother begins to show affection to her child and takes delight in her. (For this reason, the son should behave equally towards her). On the other hand, the scriptures declare that the offspring belongs to the father alone. If men, after accepting the hands of wives in marriage and pledging themselves to earn religious merit without being dissociated from them, seek congress with other people's wives, they then cease to be worthy of respect.[1207] The husband, because he supports the wife, is called Bhartri, and, because he protects her, he is on that account called Pati. When these two functions disappear from him, he ceases to be both Bhartri and Pati.[1208] Then again woman can commit no fault. It is man only that commits faults. By perpetrating an act of adultery, the man only becomes stained with guilt.[1209] It has been said that the husband is the highest object with the wife and the highest deity to her. My mother gave up her sacred person to one that came to her in the form and guise of her husband. Women can commit no fault. It is man who becomes stained with fault. Indeed, in consequence of the natural weakness of the sex as displayed in every act, and their liability to solicitation, women cannot be regarded as offenders. Then again the sinfulness (in this case) is evident of Indra himself who (by acting in the way he did) caused the recollection of the request that had been made to him in days of yore by woman (when a third part of the sin of Brahmanicide of which Indra himself was guilty was cast upon her sex). There is no doubt that my mother is innocent. She whom I have been commanded to slay is a woman. That woman is again my mother. She occupies, therefore, a place of greater reverence. The very beasts that are irrational know that the mother is unslayable. The sire must be known to be a combination of all the deities together. To the mother, however, attaches a combination of all mortal creatures and all the deities.'[1210]--In consequence of his habit of reflecting long before acting, Gautama's son Chirakarin, by indulging in those reflections, passed a long while (without accomplishing the act he had been commanded by his sire to accomplish). When many days had expired, his sire Gautama returned. Endued with great wisdom, Medhatithi of Gautama's race, engaged in the practice of penances, came back (to his retreat), convinced, after having reflected for that long time, of the impropriety of the chastisement he had commanded to be inflicted upon his wife. Burning with grief and shedding copious tears, for repentance had come to him in consequence of the beneficial effects of that calmness of temper which is brought about by a knowledge of the scriptures, he uttered these words, 'The lord of the three worlds, viz., Purandara, came to my retreat, in the guise of a Brahmana asking for hospitality. He was received by me with (proper) words, and honoured with a (proper) welcome, and presented in due form with water to wash his feet and the usual offerings of the Arghya. I also granted him the rest he had asked for. I further told him that I had obtained a protector in him. I thought that such conduct on my part would induce him to behave towards me as a friend. When, however, notwithstanding all this, he misbehaved himself, my wife Ahalya could not be regarded to have committed any fault. It seems that neither my wife, nor myself, nor Indra himself who while passing through the sky had beheld my wife (and become deprived of his senses by her extraordinary beauty), could be held to have offended. The blame really attaches to the carelessness of my Yoga puissance.[1211] The sages have said that all calamities spring from envy, which, in its turn, arises from error of judgment. By that envy, also, I have been dragged from where I was and plunged into an ocean of sin (in the form of wife-slaughter). Alas, I have slain a woman,--a woman that is again my wife--one, that is, who, in consequence of her sharing her lord's calamities came to be called by the name of Vasita,--one that was called Bharya owing to the obligation I was under of supporting her. Who is there that can rescue me from this sin? Acting heedlessly I commanded the high-souled Chirakarin (to slay that wife of mine). If on the present occasion he proves true to his name then may he rescue me from this guilt. Twice blessed be thou, O Chirakaraka! If on this occasion thou hast delayed accomplishing the work, then art thou truly worthy of thy name. Rescue me, and thy mother, and the penances I have achieved, as also thy own self, from grave sins. Be thou really a Chirakaraka today! Ordinarily, in consequence of thy great wisdom thou takest a long time for reflection before achieving any act. Let not thy conduct be otherwise today! Be thou a true Chirakaraka today. Thy mother had expected thy advent for a long time. For a long time did she bear thee in her womb. O Chirakaraka, let thy habit of reflecting long before acting be productive of beneficial results today. Perhaps, my son Chirakaraka is delaying today (to achieve my bidding) in view of the sorrow it would cause me (to see him execute that bidding). Perhaps, he is sleeping over that bidding, bearing it in his heart (without any intention of executing it promptly). Perhaps, he is delaying, in view of the grief it would cause both him and me, reflecting upon the circumstances of the case.' Indulging in such repentance, O king, the great Rishi Gautama then beheld his son Chirakarin sitting near him. Beholding his sire come back to their abode, the son Chirakarin, overwhelmed with grief, cast away the weapon (he had taken up) and bowing his head began to pacify Gautama. Observing his son prostrated before him with bent head, and beholding also his wife almost petrified with shame, the Rishi became filled with great joy. From that time the highsouled Rishi, dwelling in that lone hermitage, did not live separately from his spouse or his heedful son. Having uttered the command that his wife should be slain he had gone away from his retreat for accomplishing some purpose of his own. Since that time his son had stood in an humble attitude, weapon in hand, for executing that command on his mother. Beholding that his son prostrated at his feet, the sire thought that, struck with fear, he was asking for pardon for the offence he had committed in taking up a weapon (for killing his own mother). The sire praised his son for a long time, and smelt his head for a long time, and for a long time held him in a close embrace, and blessed him, uttering the words, 'Do thou live long!' Then, filled with joy and contented with what had occurred, Gautama, O thou of great wisdom, addressed his son and said these words, 'Blessed be thou, O Chirakaraka! Do thou always reflect long before acting. By thy delay in accomplishing my bidding thou hast today made me happy for ever.' That learned and best of Rishis then uttered these verses upon the subject of the merits of such cool men as reflect for a long time before setting their hands to any action. 'If the matter is the death of a friend, one should accomplish it after a long while. If it is the abandonment of a project already begun, one should abandon it after a long while. A friendship that is formed after a long examination lasts for a long time. In giving way to wrath, to haughtiness, to pride, to disputes, to sinful acts, and in accomplishing all disagreeable tasks he that delays long deserves applause. When the offence is not clearly proved against a relative, a friend, a servant, or a wife, he that reflects long before inflicting the punishment is applauded.' Thus, O Bharata, was Gautama pleased with his son, O thou of Kuru's race, for that act of delay on the latter's part in doing the former's bidding. In all acts a man should, in this way, reflect for a long time and then settle what he should do. By conducting himself in this way one is sure to avoid grief for a long time. That man who never nurses his wrath for a long while, who reflects for a long time before setting himself to the performance of any act, never does any act which brings repentance. One should wait for a long while upon those that are aged, and sitting near them show them reverence. One should attend to one's duties for a long time and be engaged for a long while in ascertaining them. Waiting for a long time upon those that are learned, are reverentially serving for a long time those that are good in behaviour, and keeping one's soul for a long while under proper restraint, one succeeds in enjoying the respect of the world for a long time. One engaged in instructing others on the subject of religion and duty, should, when asked by another for information on those subjects, take a long time to reflect before giving an answer. He may then avoid indulging in repentance (for returning an incorrect answer whose practical consequences may lead to sin).--As regards Gautama of austere penances, that Rishi, having adored the deities for a long while in that retreat of his, at last ascended to heaven with his son."'" SECTION CCLXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "How, indeed, should the king protect his subjects without injuring anybody. I ask thee this, O grandsire, tell me, O foremost of good men!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the conversation between Dyumatsena and king Satyavat. We have heard that upon a certain number of individuals having been brought out for execution at the command of his sire (Dyumatsena), prince Satyavat said certain words that had never before been said by anybody else.[1212] 'Sometimes righteousness assumes the form of iniquity, and iniquity assumes the form of righteousness. It can never be possible that the killing of individuals can ever be a righteous act.' "'"Dyumatsena said, 'If the sparing of those that deserve to be slain be righteousness, if robbers be spared, O Satyavat, then all distinctions (between virtue and vice) would disappear. "This is mine",--"This (other) is not his"--ideas like these (with respect to property) will not (if the wicked be not punished) prevail in the Kali age. (If the wicked be not punished) the affairs of the world will come to a deadlock. If thou knowest how the world may go on (without punishing the wicked), then discourse to me upon it.' "'"Satyavat said, 'The three other orders (viz., the Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras) should be placed under the control of the Brahmanas. If those three orders be kept within the bonds of righteousness, then the subsidiary classes (that have sprung from intermixture) will imitate them in their practices. Those amongst them that will transgress (the commands of the Brahmanas) shall be reported to the king.--"This one heeds not my commands,"--upon such a complaint being preferred by a Brahmana, the king shall inflict punishment upon the offender. Without destroying the body of the offender the king should do that unto him which is directed by the scriptures. The king should not act otherwise, neglecting to reflect properly upon the character of the offence and upon the science of morality. By slaying the wicked, the king (practically) slays a large number of individuals that are innocent. Behold, by slaying a single robber, his wife, mother, father and children are all slain (because they become deprived of the means of life). When injured by a wicked person, the king should, therefore, reflect deeply on the question of chastisement.[1213] Sometimes a wicked man is seen to imbibe good behaviour from a righteous person. Then again from persons that are wicked, good children may be seen to spring. The wicked, therefore, should not be torn up by the roots. The extermination of the wicked is not consistent with eternal practice. By smiting them gently they may be made to expiate their offences. By depriving them of all their wealth, by chains and immurement in dungeons, by disfiguring them (they may be made to expiate their guilt). Their relatives should not be persecuted by the infliction of capital sentences on them. If in the presence of the Purohita and others,[1214] they give themselves up to him from desire of protection, and swear, saying, "O Brahmana, we shall never again commit any sinful act," they would then deserve to be let off without any punishment. This is the command of the Creator himself. Even the Brahmana that wears a deer-skin and the wand of (mendicancy) and has his head shaved, should be punished (when he transgresses).[1215] If great men transgress, their chastisement should be proportionate to their greatness. As regards them that offend repeatedly, they do not deserve to be dismissed without punishment as on the occasion of their first offence.'[1216] Dyumatsena said, 'As long as those barriers within which men should be kept are not transgressed, so long are they designated by the name of Righteousness. If they who transgressed those barriers were not punished with death, those barriers would soon be destroyed. Men of remote and remoter times were capable of being governed with ease.[1217] They were very truthful (in speech and conduct). They were little disposed to disputes and quarrels. They seldom gave way to anger, or, if they did, their wrath never became ungovernable. In those days the mere crying of fie on offenders was sufficient punishment. After this came the punishment represented by harsh speeches or censures. Then followed the punishment of fines and forfeitures. In this age, however, the punishment of death has become current. The measure of wickedness has increased to such an extent that by slaying one others cannot be restrained.[1218] The robber has no connection with men, with the deities, with the Gandharvas, and with the Pitris. What is he to whom? He is not anybody to any one. This is the declaration of the Srutis.[1219] The robber takes away the ornaments of corpses from cemeteries, and wearing apparel from men afflicted by spirits (and, therefore, deprived of senses). That man is a fool who would make any covenant with those miserable wretches or exact any oath from them (for relying upon it).'[1220] "'"Satyavat said, 'If thou dost not succeed in making honest men of those rogues and in saving them by means unconnected with slaughter, do thou then exterminate them by performing some sacrifice.[1221] Kings practise severe austerities for the sake of enabling their subjects go on prosperously in their avocations. When thieves and robbers multiply in their kingdoms they become ashamed. They, therefore, betake themselves to penances for suppressing thefts and robberies and making their subjects live happily. Subjects can be made honest by being only frightened (by the king). Good kings never slay the wicked from motives of retribution. (On the other hand, if they slay, they slay in sacrifices, when the motive is to do good to the slain), Good kings abundantly succeed in ruling their subjects properly with the aid of good conduct (instead of cruel or punitive inflictions). If the king acts properly, the superior subjects imitate him. The inferior people, again in their turn, imitate their immediate superiors. Men are so constituted that they imitate those whom they regard as their superiors.[1222] That king who, without restraining himself, seeks to restrain others (from evil ways) becomes an object of laughter with all men in consequence of his being engaged in the enjoyment of all worldly pleasures as a slave of his senses. That man who, through arrogance or error of judgment, offends against the king in any way, should be restrained by every means. It is by this way that he is prevented from committing offences anew. The king should first restrain his own self if he desires to restrain others that offend. He should punish heavily (if necessary) even friends and near relatives. In that kingdom where a vile offender does not meet with heavy afflictions, offences increase and righteousness decreases without doubt. Formerly, a Brahmana, endued with clemency and possessed of learning, taught me this. Verily, to this effect, O sire, I have been instructed by also our grandsire of olden days, who gave such assurances of harmlessness to people, moved by pity. Their words were, "In the Krita age, kings should rule their subjects by adopting ways that are entirely harmless. In the Treta age, kings conduct themselves according to ways that conform with righteousness fallen away by a fourth from its full complement. In the Dwapara age, they proceed according to ways conforming with righteousness fallen away by a moiety, and in the age that follows, according to ways conforming with righteousness fallen away by three-fourth. When the Kati age sets in, through the wickedness of kings and in consequence of the nature of the epoch itself, fifteen parts of even that fourth portion of righteousness disappear, a sixteenth portion thereof being all that then remains of it. If, O Satyavat, by adopting the method first mentioned (viz., the practice of harmlessness), confusion sets in, the king, considering the period of human life, the strength of human beings, and the nature of the time that has come, should award punishments.[1223] Indeed, Manu, the son of the Self-born, has, through compassion for human beings, indicated the way by means of which men may adhere to knowledge (instead of harmfulness) for the sake of emancipation."''"[1224] SECTION CCLXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast already explained to me, O grandsire, how the religion of Yoga, which leads to the six well-known attributes, may be adopted and practised without injuring any creature. Tell me, O grandsire, of that religion which leads to both results, viz., Enjoyment and Emancipation. Amongst these two, viz., the duties of domesticity and those of Yoga, both of which lead to the same end, which is superior?" "'Bhishma said, "Both courses of duty are highly blessed. Both are extremely difficult of accomplishment. Both are productive of high fruits. Both are practised by those that are admittedly good. I shall presently discourse to thee on the authoritativeness of both those courses of duty, for dispelling thy doubts about their true import. Listen to me with concentrated attention. In this connection is instanced the old narrative of the discourse between Kapila and the cow. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira![1225] It has been heard by us that in days of old when the deity Tvashtri came to the place of king Nahusha, the latter, for discharging the duties of hospitality, was on the point of killing a cow agreeably to the true, ancient, and eternal injunction of the Vedas. Beholding that cow tied for slaughter, Kapila of liberal soul, ever observant of the duties of Sattwa, always engaged in restraining his senses, possessed of true knowledge, and abstemious in diet, having acquired an excellent understanding that was characterised by faith, perfectly fearless, beneficial, firm, and ever directed towards truth, uttered this word once, viz.,--'Alas ye Vedas!'--At that time a Rishi, of the name of Syumarasmi, entering (by Yoga power) the form of that cow, addressed the Yati Kapila, saying, 'Hist O Kapila! If the Vedas be deserving (in consequence of those declarations in them that sanction the slaughter of living creatures), whence have those other duties (fraught with entire harmlessness to all creatures) come to be regarded as authoritative?[1226] Men devoted to penances and endued with intelligence, and who have the Srutis and knowledge for their eyes, regard the injunctions of the Vedas, which have been declared through and compiled by the Rishis, to be the words of God himself.[1227] What can anybody say (by way of censure or praise) with respect to the contents of the Vedas when these happen to be the words of the Supreme Being himself who is freed from desire of fruit, who is without the fever (of envy and aversion), who is addicted to nothing, and who is destitute of all exertion (in consequence of the immediate fruition of all his wishes)?' "'"Kapila said, 'I do not censure the Vedas. I do not wish to say anything in derogation of them. It hath been heard by us that the different courses of duty laid down for the different modes of life, all lead to the same end. The Sannyasin attains to a high end. The forest-recluse also attains to a high end. Both the other two also, viz., the householder and the Brahmacharin, reach the same end. All the four modes of life have always been regarded as Deva-yana ways. The relative strength or weakness of these, as represented by their relative superiority or inferiority, hath been declared in the character of their respective ends.[1228]--Knowing these, accomplish acts which lead to heaven and other blessings,--this is a Vedic declaration.--Do not accomplish acts,--this also is another binding declaration of the Vedas. If abstention from acts be meritorious, then their accomplishment must be exceedingly reprehensible. When the scriptures stand thus, the strength or weakness of particular declarations must be very difficult to ascertain. If thou knowest of any course of duty which is superior to the religion of harmlessness, and which depends upon direct evidence instead of that of the scriptures, do thou then discourse to me upon it.' "'"Syumarasmi said, 'One should perform sacrifice from desire of heaven,--this Sruti is constantly heard by us. Thinking first of the fruit (that is to be attained), one makes preparations for sacrifice. Goat, horse, cow, all species of birds, domestic or wild, and herbs and plants, are food of (other) living creatures. This is heard by us.[1229] Food again has been directed to be taken day after day morning and evening. Then again the Sruti declares that animals and grain are the limbs of Sacrifice.[1230] The Lord of the universe created them along with Sacrifice. The puissant Lord of all creatures caused the deities to perform sacrifices with their aid. Altogether seven (domestic) and seven (wild) animals are indicated as fit for sacrifice. Instead of all being equally fit, each succeeding one is inferior to each preceding one. The Vedas again declare that the whole universe is appointed for sacrifice. Him also that is called Purusha the Vedas have appointed for the same purpose.[1231] This again hath been sanctioned by men of remote and remoter times. What man of learning is there that does not select, according to his own ability, individuals from among living creatures for sacrifice?[1232] The inferior animals, human beings, trees, and herbs, all wish for the attainment of heaven. There is no means, however, except sacrifice, by which they can obtain the fruition of that desire. The deciduous herbs, animals, trees, creepers, clarified butter, milk, curds, meat and other approved things (that are poured on the sacrificial fire), land, the points of the compass, faith, and time which brings up the tale of twelve, the Richs, the Yajuses, the Samans, and the sacrificer himself bringing up the tale to sixteen, and Fire which should be known as the householder,--these seventeen are said to be the limbs of sacrifice. Sacrifice, the Sruti declares, is the root of the world and its course. With clarified butter, milk, curds, dung, curds mixed with milk, skin, the hair in her tail, horns, and hoofs, the cow alone is able to furnish all the necessaries of sacrifice. Particular ones amongst these that are laid down for particular sacrifices, coupled with Ritwijas and presents (to the priests themselves and other Brahmanas) together sustain sacrifices.[1233] By collecting these things together, people accomplish sacrifices[1234]. This Sruti, consistent with the truth, is heard that all things have been created for the performance of sacrifice. It was thus that all men of ancient time set themselves to the performance of sacrifices. As regards that person, however, who performs sacrifices because of the conviction that sacrifices should be performed and not for the sake of fruit or reward, it is seen that he does not injure any creature or bear himself with hostility to anything, or set himself to the accomplishment of any worldly task.[1235] Those things that have been named as the limbs of sacrifice, and those other things that have been mentioned as required in sacrifices and that are indicated in the ordinances, all uphold one another (for the completion of sacrifices) when used according to the approved ritual.[1236] I behold also the Smritis compiled by the Rishis, into which the Vedas have been introduced. Men of learning regard them as authoritative in consequence of their following the Brahmanas.[1237] Sacrifices have the Brahmanas for that progenitor, and truly they rest upon the Brahmanas. The whole universe rests upon sacrifice, and sacrifice rests upon the universe.[1238] The syllable Om is the root from which the Vedas have sprung. (Every rite, therefore, should commence with the utterance of that syllable of vast import). Of him who has uttered for him the syllables Om, Namas, Swaha, Svadha, and Vashat, and who has, according to the extent of his ability, performed sacrifices and other rites, there is no fear in respect of next life in all the three worlds. Thus say the Vedas, and sages crowned with ascetic success, and the foremost of Rishis. He in whom are the Richs, the Yajuses, the Samans, and the expletives necessary for completing the rhythm of the Samans according to the rules laid down in Vedic grammars, is, indeed, a Brahmana.[1239] Thou knowest, O adorable Brahmana, what the fruits are of Agnihotra, of the Soma-sacrifice, and of the other great sacrifices. I say, for this reason, one should sacrifice and assist at other people's sacrifices, without scruples of any kind. One who performs such sacrifices as lead to heaven (such as Jyotishtoma, etc.) obtains high rewards hereafter in the form of heavenly beatitude. This is certain, viz., that they who do not perform sacrifices have neither this world nor the next. They who are really conversant with the declarations of the Vedas regard both kinds of declarations (viz., those that incite to acts and those that preach abstention) as equally authoritative.'"'" SECTION CCLXIX "'"Kapila said, 'Beholding that all the fruits that are attainable by acts are terminable instead of being eternal, Yatis, by adopting self-restraint and tranquillity, attain to Brahma through the path of knowledge. There is nothing in any of the worlds that can impede them (for by mere fiats of their will they crown all their wishes with success). They are freed from the influence of all pairs of opposites. They never bow down their heads to anything or any creature. They are above all the bonds of want. Wisdom is theirs. Cleansed they are from every sin. Pure and spotless they live and rove about (in great happiness). They have, in their own understandings, arrived at settled conclusions in respect of all destructible objects and of a life of Renunciation (by comparing the two together). Devoted to Brahma, already become like unto Brahma, they have taken refuge in Brahma. Transcending grief, and freed from (the equality of) Rajas, theirs are acquisitions that are eternal. When the high end that is these men's is within reach of attainment, what need has one for practising the duties of the domestic mode of life?'[1240] "'"Syumarasmi said, 'If, indeed, that be the highest object of acquisition, if that be truly the highest end (which is attained by practising Renunciation) then the importance of the domestic mode of life becomes manifest, because without the domestic mode no other mode of life ever becomes possible. Indeed, as all living creatures are able to live in consequence of their dependence on their respective mothers, after the same manner the three other modes of life exist in consequence of their dependence upon the domestic mode. The householder who leads the life of domesticity, performs sacrifices, and practises penances. Whatever is done by anybody from desire of happiness has for its root the domestic mode of life. All living creatures regard the procreation of offspring as a source of great happiness. The procreation of offspring, however, becomes impossible in any other mode of life (than domesticity). Every kind of grass and straw, all plants and herbs (that yield corn or grain), and others of the same class that grow on hills and mountains, have the domestic mode of life for their root. Upon those depend the life of living creatures. And since nothing else is seen (in the universe) than life, domesticity may be looked upon as the refuge of the entire universe.[1241] Who then speaks the truth that says that domesticity cannot lead to the acquisition of Emancipation? Only those that are destitute of faith and wisdom and penetration, only those that are destitute of reputation that are idle and toil-worn, that have misery for their share in consequence of their past acts, only those that are destitute of learning, behold the plenitude of tranquillity in a life of mendicancy. The eternal and certain distinctions (laid down in the Vedas) are the causes that sustain the three worlds. That illustrious person of the highest order who is conversant with the Vedas, is worshipped from the very date of his birth. Besides the performance of Garbhadhana, Vedic mantras become necessary for enabling persons of the regenerate classes to accomplish all their acts in respect of both this and the other world.[1242] In cremating his body (after death), in the matter of his attainment of a second body, in that of his drink and food after such attainment, in that of giving away kine and other animals for helping him to cross the river that divides the region of life from that of Yama, in that of sinking funeral cakes in water--Vedic mantras are necessary. Then again the three classes of Pitris, viz., the Archishmats, the Varhishads, and the Kravyads, approve of the necessity of mantras in the case of the dead, and mantras are allowed to be efficient causes (for attainment of the objects for which these ceremonies and rites have been directed to be performed). When the Vedas say this so loudly and when again human beings are said to owe debts to the Pitris, the Rishis, and the gods, how can any one attain to Emancipation?[1243] This false doctrine (of incorporeal existence called Emancipation), apparently dressed in colours of truth, but subversive of the real purport of the declarations of the Vedas, has been introduced by learned men reft of prosperity and eaten up by idleness. That Brahmana who performs sacrifices according to the declarations of the Vedas is never seduced by sin. Through sacrifices, such a person attains to high regions of felicity along with the animals he has slain in those sacrifices, and himself, gratified by the acquisition of all his wishes succeeds in gratifying those animals by fulfilling their wishes. By disregarding the Vedas, by guile, or by deception, one never succeeds in attaining to the Supreme. On the other hand, it is by practising the rites laid down in the Vedas that one succeeds in attaining to Brahma.' "'"Kapila said, '(If acts are obligatory, then) there are the Darsa, the Paurnamasa, the Agnihotra, the Chaturmasya, and other acts for the man of intelligence. In their performance is eternal merit. (Why then perform acts involving cruelty)? Those that have betaken themselves to the Sannyasa mode of life, that abstain from all acts, that are endued with patience, that are cleansed (of wrath and every fault), and that are conversant with Brahma, succeed by such knowledge of Brahma in paying off the debts (thou speakest of) to the gods (the Rishis, and the Pitris) represented to be so very fond of libations poured in sacrifices.[1244] The very gods become stupefied in tracing the track of that trackless person who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures and who looks upon all creatures with an equal eye. Through instructions received from the preceptor one knows that which dwells within this frame to be of a four-fold nature, having besides four doors and four mouths. In consequence of (their possession of) two arms, the organ of speech, the stomach, and the organ of pleasure, the very gods are said to have four doors. One should, therefore, strive one's best to keep those doors under control.[1245] One should not gamble with dice. One should not appropriate what belongs to another. One should not assist at the sacrifice of a person of ignoble birth. One should not, giving way to wrath, smite another with hands or feet. That intelligent man who conducts himself in this way is said to have his hands and feet well-controlled. One should not indulge in vociferous abuse or censure. One should not speak words that are vain. One should forbear from knavery and from calumniating others. One should observe the vow of truthfulness, be sparing of speech, and always heedful. By conducting oneself in this way one will have one's organ of speech well-restrained. One should not abstain entirely from food. One should not eat too much. One should give up covetousness, and always seek the companionship of the good. One should eat only so much as is needed for sustaining life. By conducting oneself in this way one succeeds in properly controlling the door represented by one's stomach. One should not, O hero, lustfully take another wife when one has a wedded spouse (with whom to perform all religious acts). One should never summon a woman to bed except in her season. One should confine oneself to one's own wedded spouse without seeking congress with other women. By conducting oneself in this way one is said to have one's organ of pleasure properly controlled. That man of wisdom is truly a regenerate person who has all his four doors, viz., the organ of pleasure, the stomach, the two arms (and two feet), and the organ of speech, properly controlled. Everything becomes useless of that person whose doors are not well-controlled. What can the penance of such a man do? What can his sacrifices bring about? What can be achieved by his body? The gods know him for a Brahmana who has cast off his upper garment, who sleeps on the bare ground, who makes his arm a pillow, and whose heart is possessed of tranquillity.[1246] That person who, devoted to contemplation, singly enjoys all the happiness that wedded couples enjoy, and who turns not his attention to the joys and griefs of others, should be known for a Brahmana.[1247] That man who rightly understands all this as it exists in reality and its multiform transformations, and who knows what the end is of all created objects, is known by the gods for a Brahmana.[1248] One who hath no fear from any creature and from whom no creature hath any fear and who constitutes himself the soul of all creatures, should be known for a Brahmana. Without having acquired purity of heart which is the true result of all pious acts such as gifts and sacrifices, men of foolish understandings do not succeed in obtaining a knowledge of what is needed in making one a Brahmana even when explained by preceptors. Destitute of a knowledge of all this, these men desire fruits of a different kind, viz., heaven and its joys.[1249] Unable to practise even a small part of that good conduct which has come down from remote times, which is eternal, which is characterised by certitude, which enters as a thread in all our duties, and by adopting which men of knowledge belonging to all the modes of life convert their respective duties and penances into terrible weapons for destroying the ignorance and evils of worldliness, men of foolish understandings regard acts that are productive of visible fruits, that are fraught with the highest puissance, and that are deathless, as fruitless after all and as deviations (from the proper course) not sanctioned by the scriptures. In truth, however, that conduct, embracing as it does practices the very opposite of those that are seen in seasons of distress, is the very essence of heedfulness and is never affected by lust and wrath and other passions of a similar kind.[1250] As regards sacrifices again, it is very difficult to ascertain all their particulars. If ascertained, it is very difficult to observe them in practice. If practised, the fruits to which they lead are terminable. Mark this well. (And marking this, do thou betake thyself to the path of knowledge).' "'"Syumarasmi said, 'The Vedas countenance acts and discountenance them. Whence then is their authority when their declarations thus contradict each other? Renunciation of acts, again, is productive of great benefit. Both these have been indicated in the Vedas. Do thou discourse to me on this subject, O Brahmana!' "'"Kapila said, 'Betaking yourselves to the path of the good (viz., Yoga), do you even in this life realise its fruits by the direct evidence of your senses. What, however, are the visible results of those other objects which you (men of acts) pursue?' "'"Syumarasmi said, 'O Brahmana, I am Syumarasmi by name. I have come here for acquiring knowledge. Desirous of doing good to myself I have started this conversation in artless candour and not from desire of disputation. The dark doubt has taken possession of my mind. O illustrious one, solve it to me. Thou hast said that they who take the path of the good (viz., Yoga), by which Brahma is attained, realise its fruits by the direct evidence of their senses. What, indeed, is that which is so realisable by the direct evidence of the senses and which is pursued by yourselves? Avoiding all sciences that have disputation only for their foremost object, I have so studied the Agama as to have duly mastered their true meaning. By Agama I understand the declarations of the Vedas. I also include in that word those sciences based on logic which have for their object the bringing out of the real meaning of the Vedas.[1251] Without avoiding the duties laid down for the particular mode of life which one may lead, one should pursue the practices laid down in Agama. Such observance of the practices laid down in Agama crowns one with success. In consequence of the certainty of the conclusions of Agama, the success to which the latter leads may be said to be almost realisable by direct evidence. As a boat that is tied to another bound for a different port, cannot take its passengers to the port they desire to reach, even so ourselves, dragged by our acts due to past desires, can never cross the interminable river of birth and death (and reach the heaven of rest and peace we may have in view). Discourse to me on this topic, O illustrious one! Teach me as a preceptor teaches a disciple. No one can be found amongst men that has completely renounced all worldly objects, nor one that is perfectly contented with oneself, nor one that has transcended grief, nor one that is perfectly free from disease, nor one that is absolutely free from the desire to act (for one's own benefit), nor one that has an absolute distaste for companionship, nor one that has entirely abstained from acts of every kind. Even men like yourself are seen to give way to joy and indulge in grief as persons like ourselves. Like other creatures the senses of persons like yourselves have their functions and objects. Tell me, in what then, if we are to investigate the question of happiness, does pure felicity consist for all the four orders of men and all the four modes of life who and which have, as regards their inclinations, the same resting ground.' "'"Kapila said, 'Whatever the Sastras according to which one performs the acts one feels inclined to do, the ordinances laid down in it for regulating those acts never become fruitless. Whatever again the school of opinion according to which one may conduct oneself, one is sure to attain to the highest end by only observing the duties of self-restraint of Yoga. Knowledge assists that man in crossing (this interminable river of life and death) who pursues knowledge. That conduct, however, which men pursue after deviating from the path of knowledge, afflicts them (by subjecting them to the evils of life and death). It is evident that ye are possessed of knowledge and dissociated from every worldly object that may produce distress. But have any of you at any time succeeded in acquiring that knowledge in consequence of which everything is capable of being viewed as identical with one Universal Soul?[1252] Without a correct apprehension of the scriptures, some there are, fond only of disputation, who, in consequence of being overwhelmed by desire and aversion, become the slaves of pride and arrogance. Without having correctly understood the meaning of scriptural declarations, these robbers of the scriptures, these depredators of Brahma, influenced by arrogance and error, refuse to pursue tranquillity and practise self-restraint.[1253] These men behold fruitlessness on every side, and if (by chance) they succeed in obtaining the puissance of knowledge they never impart it to others for rescuing them. Made up entirely of the quality of Tamas, they have Tamas only for their refuge. One becomes subject to all the incidents of that nature which one imbibes. Accordingly, of him who hath Tamas for his refuge, the passions of envy, lust, wrath, pride, falsehood, and vanity, continually grow, for one's qualities have one's nature for their spring. Thinking in this strain and beholding these faults (through the aid of instructions secured from preceptors), Yatis, who covet the highest end, betake themselves to Yoga, leaving both good and ill.'[1254] "'"Syumarasmi said, 'O Brahmana, all that I have said (about the laudable character of acts and the opposite character of Renunciation) is strictly conformable to the scriptures. It is, however, very true that without a correct apprehension of the meaning of the scriptures, one does not feel inclined to obey what the scriptures really declare. Whatever conduct is consistent with equity is consistent with the scriptures. Even that is what the Sruti declares. Similarly, whatever conduct is inconsistent with equity is inconsistent with the scriptures. This also is declared by the Sruti. It is certain that no one can do an act that is scriptural by transgressing the scriptures. That again is unscriptural which is against the Vedas. The Sruti declares this. Many men, who believe only what directly appeals to their senses, behold only this world (and not what is addressed in the scriptures to Faith). They do not behold what the scriptures declare to be faults. They have, accordingly, like ourselves, to give way to grief. Those objects of the senses with which men like you are concerned are the same with which other living creatures are concerned. Yet in consequence of your knowledge of the soul and their ignorance of it, how vast is the difference that exists between you and them! All the four orders of men and all the four modes of life, however different their duties, seek the same single end (viz., the highest happiness). Thou art possessed of unquestioned talents and abilities. For ascertaining that particular course of conduct (amongst those various duties) which is well calculated to accomplish the desired end, thou hast, by discoursing to me on the Infinite (Brahma), filled my soul with tranquillity. As regards ourselves, in consequence of our inability to understand the Soul we are destitute of a correct apprehension of the reality. Our wisdom is concerned with things that are low, and we are enveloped in thick darkness. (The course of conduct, however, that thou hast indicated for enabling one to attain to Emancipation, is exceedingly difficult of practice). Only he who is devoted to Yoga, who has discharged all his duties, who is capable of roving everywhere depending only on his own body, who has brought his soul under perfect control, who has transcended the requirements of the science of morality and who disregards the whole world (and everything belonging to it), can transgress the declarations of the Vedas with respect to acts, and say that there is Emancipation.[1255] For one, however, who lives in the midst of relatives, this course of conduct is exceedingly difficult to follow. Gift, study of the Vedas, sacrifices, begetting offspring, simplicity of dealing, when by practising even these no one succeeds in attaining to Emancipation, fie on him who seeks to attain to it, and on Emancipation itself that is sought! It seems that the labour spent upon attaining to it is all fruitless. One becomes chargeable with atheism if one disregards the Vedas by not doing the acts they direct. O illustrious one, I desire to hear without delay about that (Emancipation) which comes in the Vedas after the declarations in favour of acts. Do tell me the truth, O Brahmana! I sit at thy feet as a disciple. Teach me kindly! I wish to know as much about Emancipation as is known to thee, O learned one!'"'" SECTION CCLXX "'"Kapila said, 'The Vedas are regarded as authoritative by all. People never disregard them. Brahma is of two kinds, viz., Brahma as represented by sound, and Brahma as Supreme (and intangible).[1256] One conversant with Brahma represented by sound succeeds in attaining to Supreme Brahma. Commencing with the rites of Garbhadhana, that body which the sire creates with the aid of Vedic mantras is cleansed (after birth) by Vedic mantras.[1257] When the body has been cleansed with purificatory rites (performed with the aid of Vedic mantras), the owner thereof comes to be called a Brahmana and becomes a vessel fit for receiving knowledge of Brahma. Know that the reward of acts is purity of heart which only leads to Emancipation. I shall presently speak to thee of that. Whether purity of heart has been attained or not (by performance of acts) is what can be known to the person himself who has attained it. It can never be known with the aid of either the Vedas or inference. They that cherish no expectation, that discard every kind of wealth by not storing anything for future use, that are not covetous, and that are free from every kind of affection and aversion, perform sacrifices because of the conviction that their performance is a duty. To make gifts unto deserving persons is the end (right use) of all wealth. Never addicted at any time to sinful acts, observant of those rites that have been laid down in the Vedas, capable of crowning all their wishes with fruition, endued with certain conclusions through pure knowledge, never giving way to wrath,--never indulging in envy, free from pride and malice, firm in Yoga,[1258] of unstained birth, unstained conduct, and unstained learning, devoted to the good of all creatures, there were in days of yore many men, leading lives of domesticity and thoroughly devoted to their own duties, there were many kings also of the same qualifications, devoted to Yoga (like Janaka, etc.), and many Brahmanas also of the same character (like Yajnavalkya and others).[1259] They behaved equally towards all creatures and were endued with perfect sincerity. Contentment was theirs, and certainty of knowledge. Visible were the rewards of their righteousness, and pure were they in behaviour and heart. They were possessed of faith in Brahma of both forms.[1260] At first making their hearts pure, they duly observed all (excellent) vows. They were observant of the duties of righteousness on even occasions of distress and difficulty, without falling off in any particular. Uniting together they used to perform meritorious acts. In this they found great happiness. And inasmuch as they never tripped, they had never to perform any expiation. Relying as they did upon the true course of righteousness, they became endued with irresistible energy. They never followed their own understandings in the matter of earning merit but followed the dictates of the scriptures alone for that end. Accordingly they were never guilty of guile in the matter of performing acts of righteousness.[1261] In consequence of their observing unitedly the absolute ordinances of the scriptures without betaking themselves ever to the rites laid down in the alternative, they were never under the necessity of performing expiation.[1262] There is no expiation for men living in the observance of the ordinances laid down in the scriptures. The Sruti declares that expiation exists for only men that are weak and unable to follow the absolute and substantive provisions of the sacred law. Many Brahmanas there were of this kind in days of old, devoted to the performance of sacrifices, of profound knowledge of the Vedas, possessed of purity and good conduct, and endued with fame. They always worshipped Brahma in the sacrifices, and were free from desire. Possessed of learning they transcended all the bonds of life. The sacrifices of these men, their (knowledge of the) Vedas, their acts performed in obedience to the ordinances, their study of the scripture at the fixed hours, and the wishes they entertained, freed as they were from lust and wrath, observant as they were of pious conduct and acts notwithstanding all difficulties, renowned as they were for performing the duties of their own order and mode of life, purified as their souls were in consequence of their very nature, characterised as they were by thorough sincerity, devoted as they were to tranquillity, and mindful as they were of their own practices, were identical with Infinite Brahma. Even this is the eternal Sruti heard by us.[1263] The penances of men that were so high-souled, of men whose conduct and acts were so difficult of observance and accomplishment, of men whose wishes were crowned with fruition in consequence of the strict discharge of their duties, became efficacious weapons for the destruction of all earthly desires. The Brahmanas say that that Good Conduct, which is wonderful, whose origin may be traced to very ancient times, which is eternal and whose characteristics are unchangeable, which differs from the practices to which even the good resort in seasons of distress and represents their acts in other situations, which is identical with heedfulness, over which lust and wrath and other evil passions can never prevail, and in consequence of which there was (at one time) no transgression in all mankind, subsequently came to be distributed into four subdivisions, corresponding with the four modes of life by persons unable to practise its duties in minute detail and entirety.[1264] They that are good, by duly observing that course of Good Conduct after adoption of the Sannyasa mode of life, attain to the highest end. They also that betake themselves to the forest mode reach the same high end (by duly observing that conduct). They too that observe the domestic mode of life attain to the highest end (by duly practising the same conduct); and, lastly, those that lead the Brahmacharya mode obtain the same (end by a due observance of the same conduct).[1265] Those Brahmanas are seen to shine in the firmament as luminaries shedding beneficent rays of light all around. Those myriads of Brahmanas have become stars and constellations set in their fixed tracks. In consequence of contentment (or Renunciation) they have all attained to Infinity as the Vedas declare. If such men have to come back to the world through the wombs of living creatures, they are never stained by sins which have the unexhausted residue of previous acts for their originating cause. Indeed, one who has led the life of a Brahmacharin and waited dutifully upon his preceptor, who has arrived at settled conclusions (in respect of the soul), and who has devoted himself to Yoga thus, is truly a Brahmana. Who else would deserve to be called a Brahmana? When acts alone determine who is a Brahmana and who is not, acts (good or bad) must be held to indicate the happiness or misery of a person. As regards those that have by conquering all evil passions acquired purity of heart, we have heard the eternal Sruti that in consequence of the Infinity to which they attain (through beholding the universal soul) and of the knowledge of Brahma (they acquire through the declarations of Srutis), they behold everything to be Brahma. The duties (of tranquillity, self-restraint, abstention from acts, renunciation, devotion, and the abstraction of Samadhi) followed by those men of pure hearts, that are freed from desire, and that have Emancipation only for their object, for acquisition of the knowledge of Brahma, are equally laid down for all the four orders of men and all the four modes of life. Verily, that knowledge is always acquired by Brahmanas of pure hearts and restrained soul.[1266] One whose soul is for Renunciation based upon contentment is regarded as the refuge of true knowledge. Renunciation, in which is that knowledge which leads to Emancipation, and which is highly necessary for a Brahmana, is eternal (and comes down from preceptor to pupil for ever and ever).[1267] Renunciation sometimes exists mixed with the duties of other modes. But whether existing in that state or by itself, one practises it according to the measure of one's strength (that depends upon the degree of one's absence of worldly desires). Renunciation is the cause of supreme benefit unto every kind of person. Only he that is weak, fails to practise it. That pure-hearted man who seeks to attain to Brahma becomes rescued from the world (with its misery).'[1268] "'"Syumarasmi said, 'Amongst those that are given up to enjoyment (of property), they that make gifts, they that perform sacrifices, they that devote themselves to the study of the Vedas, and they that betake themselves to a life of Renunciation after having acquired and enjoyed wealth and all its pleasures, when they depart from this world, who is it that attains to the foremost place in heaven? I ask thee this, O Brahmana! Do thou tell me truly.' "'"Kapila said, 'Those who lead a life of domesticity are certainly auspicious and acquire excellence of every kind. They are unable, however, to enjoy the felicity that attaches to Renunciation. Even thou mayst see this.'[1269] "'"Syumarasmi said, 'Ye depend upon knowledge as the means (for the attainment of Emancipation). Those who lead lives of domesticity have planted their faith in acts. It has, however, been said that the end of all modes of life is Emancipation.[1270] No difference, therefore, is observable between them in respect of either their superiority or inferiority of puissance. O illustrious one, do thou tell me then how stands the matter truly.' "'"Kapila said, 'Acts only cleanse the body. Knowledge, however, is the highest end (for which one strives).[1271] When all faults of the heart are cured (by acts), and when the felicity of Brahma becomes established in knowledge, benevolence, forgiveness, tranquillity, compassion, truthfulness, and candour, abstention from injury, absence of pride, modesty, renunciation, and abstention from work are attained. These constitute the path that lead to Brahma. By those one attains to what is the Highest. That the cure of all faults of the heart is the result of acts becomes intelligible to the wise man when these are attained. That, indeed, is regarded as the highest end which is obtained by Brahmanas endued with wisdom, withdrawn from all acts, possessed of purity and the certitude of knowledge. One who succeeds in acquiring a knowledge of the Vedas, of that which is taught by the Vedas (viz., Brahma as represented in acts), and the minutiae of acts, is said to be conversant with the Vedas. Any other man is only a bag of wind.[1272] One who is conversant with the Vedas knows everything, for everything is established on the Vedas. Verily, the present, past, and future all exist in the Vedas.[1273] This one conclusion is deducible from all the scriptures, viz., that this universe exists and does not exist. To the man of knowledge this (all that is perceived) is both sat and asat. To him, this all is both the end and the middle.[1274] This truth rests upon all the Vedas, viz., that when complete Renunciation takes place one obtains what is sufficient. Then again the highest contentment follows and rests upon Emancipation,[1275] which is absolute, which exists as the soul of all mortal and immortal things, which is well-known as such universal soul, which is the highest object of knowledge as being identical with all mobile and immobile things, which is full, which is perfect felicity, which is without duality, which is the foremost of all things, which is Brahma, which is Unmanifest and the cause also, whence the Unmanifest has sprung, and which is without deterioration of any kind.[1276] Ability to subdue the senses, forgiveness, and abstention from work in consequence of the absence of desire,--these three are the cause of perfect felicity. With the aid of these three qualities, men having understanding for their eyes succeed in reaching that Brahma which is uncreate, which is the prime cause of the universe, which is unchangeable and which is beyond destruction. I bow to that Brahma, which is identical with him that knows it.'"'"[1277] SECTION CCLXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "The Vedas, O Bharata, discourse of Religion, Profit, and Pleasure. Tell me, however, O grandsire, the attainment of which (amongst these three) is regarded as superior." "'Bhishma said, "I shall, in this connection, recite to thee the ancient narrative of the benefit that Kundadhara in days of old had conferred upon one who was devoted to him. Once on a time a Brahmana destitute of wealth sought to acquire virtue, induced by the desire of fruit. He continually set his heart upon wealth for employing it in the celebration of sacrifices. For achieving his purpose he set himself to the practice of the austerest penances. Resolved to accomplish his purpose, he began to worship the deities with great devotion. But he failed to obtain wealth by such worship of the deities. He thereupon began to reflect, saying unto himself, 'What is that deity, hitherto unadored by men, who may be favourably disposed towards me without delay?' While reflecting in this strain with a cool mind, he beheld stationed before him that retainer of the deities, viz., the Cloud called Kundadhara. As soon as he beheld that mighty-armed being, the Brahmana's feelings of devotion were excited, and he said unto himself, 'This one will surely bestow prosperity upon me. Indeed, his form indicates as much. He lives in close proximity to the deities. He has not as yet been adored by other men. He will verily give me abundant wealth without any delay.' The Brahmana, then, having concluded thus, worshipped that Cloud with dhupas and perfumes and garlands of flowers of the most superior kind, and with diverse kinds of offerings. Thus worshipped, the Cloud became very soon pleased with his worshipper and uttered these words fraught with benefit to that Brahmana, 'The wise have ordained expiation for one guilty of Brahmanicide, or of drinking alcohol or of stealing, or of neglecting all meritorious vows. There is no expiation, however, for one that is ungrateful.[1278] Expectation hath a child named Iniquity. Ire, again, is regarded to be a child of Envy. Cupidity is the child of Deceit. Ingratitude, however, is barren (and hath no offspring).' After this, that Brahmana, stretched on a bed of Kusa grass, and penetrated with the energy of Kundadhara, beheld all living beings in a dream. Indeed, in consequence of his absence of passion, penances, and devotion, that Brahmana of cleansed soul, standing aloof from all (carnal) enjoyments, beheld in the night that effect of his devotion to Kundadhara. Indeed, O Yudhishthira, he beheld the high-souled Manibhadra of great effulgence stationed in the midst of the deities, employed in giving his orders. There the gods seemed to be engaged in bestowing kingdoms and riches upon men, induced by their good deeds, and in taking them away when men fell off from goodness.[1279] Then, O bull of Bharata's race, Kundadhara of great effulgence, bending himself low, prostrated himself on the ground before the gods in the presence of all the Yakshas. At the command of the gods the high-souled Manibhadra addressed the prostrate Kundadhara and said, 'What does Kundadhara want?' Thereupon Kundadhara replied, 'If, indeed, the gods are pleased with me, there, that Brahmana reverences me greatly. I pray for some favour being shown to him, something, that is, that may bring him happiness.' Hearing this, Manibhadra, commanded by the gods, once more said unto Kundadhara of great intelligence these words, 'Rise, rise up, O Kundadhara! Thy suit is successful. Be thou happy. If this Brahmana be desirous of wealth, let wealth be given to him, that is, as much wealth as this thy friend desires. At the command of the gods I shall give him untold wealth.' Kundadhara, then, reflecting upon the fleeting and unreal character of the status of humanity, set his heart, O Yudhishthira, upon inclining the Brahmana to penances. Indeed, Kundadhara said, 'I do not, O giver of wealth, beg for wealth on behalf of this Brahmana. I desire the bestowal of another favour upon him. I do not solicit for this devotee of mine mountains of pearls and gems or even the whole earth with all her riches. I desire, however, that he should be virtuous. Let his heart find pleasure in virtue. Let him have virtue for his stay. Let virtue be the foremost of all objects with him. Even this is the favour that meets with my approval.' Manibhadra said, 'The fruits of virtue are always sovereignty and happiness of diverse kinds. Let this one enjoy those fruits, always freed from physical pain of every kind.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, Kundadhara, however, of great celebrity, repeatedly solicited virtue alone for that Brahmana. The gods were highly pleased at it. Then Manibhadra said, 'The gods are all pleased with thee as also with this Brahmana. This one shall become a virtuous-souled person. He shall devote his mind to virtue.' The Cloud, Kundadhara, became delighted, O Yudhishthira, at thus having been successful in obtaining his wish. The boon that he had got was one that was unattainable by anybody else. The Brahmana then beheld scattered around him many delicate fabrics of cloth. Without minding them at all (although so costly), the Brahmana came to disrelish the world. "'"The Brahmana said, 'When this one doth not set any value upon good deeds, who else will? I had better go to the woods for leading a life of righteousness.'"[1280] "'Bhishma continued, "Cherishing a distaste for the world, and through the grace also of the gods, that foremost of Brahmanas entered the woods and commenced to undergo the austerest of penances. Subsisting upon such fruits and roots as remained after serving the deities and guests, the mind of that regenerate person, O monarch, was firmly set upon virtue. Gradually, the Brahmana, renouncing fruits and roots, betook himself to leaves of trees as his food. Then renouncing leaves, he took to water only as his subsistence. After that he passed many years by subsisting upon air alone. All the while, his strength did not diminish. This seemed exceedingly marvellous. Devoted to virtue and engaged in the practice of the severest austerities, after a long time he acquired spiritual vision. He then reflected, saying unto himself, 'If, being gratified with anybody, I give him wealth, my speech would never be untrue.'[1281] With a face lighted up by smiles, he once more began to undergo severer austerities. And once more, having won (higher) success, he thought that he could, by a fiat of the will, then create the very highest objects. 'If, gratified with any person whatsoever I give him even sovereignty, he will immediately become a king, for my words will never be untrue.' While he was thinking in this way, Kundadhara, induced by his friendship for the Brahmana and no less by the ascetic success which the Brahmana had achieved, showed himself, O Bharata (unto his friend and devotee). Meeting with him the Brahmana offered him worship according to the observances ordained. The Brahmana, however, felt some surprise, O king. Then Kundadhara addressed the Brahmana, saying, 'Thou hast now got an excellent and spiritual eye. Behold with this vision of thine the end that is attained by kings, and survey all the worlds besides.' The Brahmana then, with his spiritual vision, beheld from a distance thousands of kings sunk in hell. "'"Kundadhara said, 'After having worshipped me with devotion thou didst get sorrow for thy share, what then would have been the good done to thee by me, and what the value of my favour? Look, look for what end men desire the gratification of carnal enjoyments. The door of heaven is closed unto men.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The Brahmana then beheld many men living in this world, embracing lust, and wrath, and cupidity, and fear, and pride, and sleep and procrastination, and inactivity. "'"Kundadhara said, 'With these (vices) all human beings are enchained. The gods are afraid of men. These vices, at the command of the gods, mar and disconcert on every side.[1282] No man can become virtuous unless permitted by the gods. (In consequence of their permission) thou hast become competent to give away kingdoms and wealth through thy penances.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed, the righteous-souled Brahmana, bending his head unto that Cloud, prostrated himself on the ground, and said, 'Thou hast, indeed, done me a great favour. Unconscious of the great affection shown by thee towards me, I had through the influence of desire and cupidity, failed to display good will towards thee.' Then Kundadhara said unto that foremost of regenerate persons, 'I have forgiven thee,' and having embraced him with his arms disappeared there and then. The Brahmana then roamed through all the worlds, having attained to ascetic success through the grace of Kundadhara. Through the puissance gained from virtue and penances, one acquires competence to sail through the skies and to fructify all one's wishes and purposes, and finally attain to the highest end. The gods and Brahmanas and Yakshas and all good men and Charanas always adore those that are virtuous but never those that are rich or given up to the indulgence of their desires. The gods are truly propitious to thee since thy mind is devoted to virtue. In wealth there may be a very little happiness but in virtue the measure of happiness is very great."'" SECTION CCLXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "Amongst the diverse kinds of sacrifices, all of which, of course, are regarded to have but one object (viz., the cleansing of the heart or the glory of God), tell me, O grandsire, what that sacrifice is which has been ordained for the sake only of virtue and not for the acquisition of either heaven or wealth!"[1283] "'Bhishma said, "In this connection I shall relate to thee the history, formerly recited by Narada, of a Brahmana who for performing sacrifices, lived according to the unchha mode. "'"Narada said, 'In one of the foremost of kingdoms that was distinguished again for virtue, there lived a Brahmana. Devoted to penances and living according to the unchha mode, that Brahmana was earnestly engaged in adoring Vishnu in sacrifices.[1284] He had Syamaka for his food, as also Suryaparni and Suvarchala and other kinds of potherbs that were bitter and disagreeable to the taste. In consequence, however, of his penances, all these tasted sweet.[1285] Abstaining from injuring any creature, and leading the life of a forest recluse, he attained to ascetic success. With roots and fruits, O scorcher of foes, he used to adore Vishnu in sacrifices that were intended to confer heaven upon him.[1286] The Brahmana, whose name was Satya, had a wife named Pushkaradharini. She was pure-minded, and had emaciated herself by the observance of many austere vows. (Herself having been of a benevolent disposition, and her husband being thus addicted to sacrifices that were cruel), she did not approve of the conduct of her lord. Summoned, however, to take her seat by his side as his spouse (for the performance of a sacrifice), she feared to incur his curse and, therefore, comforted herself with his conduct. The garments that invested her body consisted of the (cast off) plumes of peacocks. Although unwilling, she still performed that sacrifice at the command of her lord who had become its Hotri. In that forest, near to the Brahmana's asylum, lived a neighbour of his, viz., the virtuous Parnada of Sukra's race, having assumed the form of a deer. He addressed that Brahmana, whose name was Satya, in articulate speech and said unto him these words, "Thou wouldst be acting very improperly,[1287] if this sacrifice of thine were accomplished in such a manner as to be defective in mantras and other particulars of ritual. I, therefore, ask thee to slay and cut me in pieces for making libations therewith on thy sacrificial fire. Do this and becoming blameless ascend to heaven." Then the presiding goddess of the solar disc, viz., Savitri, came to that sacrifice in her own embodied form and insisted upon that Brahmana in doing what he desired by that deer to do. Unto that goddess, however, who thus insisted, the Brahmana replied, saying, "I shall not slay this deer who lives with me in this same neighbourhood."[1288] Thus addressed by the Brahmana, the goddess Savitri desisted and entered the sacrificial fire from desire of surveying the nether world, and wishing to avoid the sight of (other) defects in that sacrifice.[1289] The deer, then, with joined hands, once more begged of Satya (to be cut in pieces and poured into the sacrificial fire). Satya, however, embraced him in friendship and dismissed him, saying, "Go!"[1290] At this, the deer seemed to leave that place. But after he had gone eight steps he returned, and said, "Verily, do thou slay me. Truly do I say, slain by thee I am sure to attain to a righteous end. I give thee (spiritual) vision. Behold the celestial Apsaras and the beautiful vehicles of the high-souled Gandharvas." Beholding (that sight) for a protracted space of time, with longing eyes, and seeing the deer (solicitous of sacrifice), and thinking that residence in heaven is attainable by only slaughter, he approved (of the counsels the deer had given). It was Dharma himself who had become a deer that lived in those woods for many years. (Seeing the Brahmana tempted by the prospect he beheld), Dharma provided for his salvation and counselled him, saying, "This (viz., slaughter of living creatures) is not conformable to the ordinances about Sacrifices."[1291] The penances, which had been of very large measure, of that Brahmana whose mind had entertained the desire of slaying the deer, diminished greatly in consequence of that thought itself. The injuring of living creatures, therefore, forms no part of sacrifice.[1292] Then the illustrious Dharma (having assumed his real form), himself assisted that Brahmana, by discharging the priestly office, to perform a sacrifice. The Brahmana, after this, in consequence of his (renewed) penances, attained to that state of mind which was his spouse's.[1293] Abstention from injury is that religion which is complete in respect of its rewards. The religion, however, of cruelty is only thus far beneficial that it leads to heaven (which has a termination). I have spoken to thee of that religion of Truth which, indeed, is the religion of those that are utterers of Brahma.'"'"[1294] SECTION CCLXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "By what means doth a man become sinful, by what doth he achieve virtue, by what doth he attain to Renunciation, and by what doth he win Emancipation?" "'Bhishma said, "Thou knowest all duties. This question that thou askest is only for confirmation of thy conclusions. Listen now to Emancipation, and Renunciation, and Sin, and Virtue to their very roots. Perceiving any one of the five objects (viz., form, taste, scent, sound, and touch), desire runs after it at first. Indeed, obtaining them within the purview of the senses, O chief of Bharata's race, desire or aversion springs up.[1295] One, then, for the sake of that object (i.e., for acquisition of what is liked and avoidance of what is disliked) strives and begins acts that involve much labour. One endeavours one's best for repeatedly enjoying those forms and scents (and the three other objects of the remaining three senses) that appear very agreeable. Gradually, attachment, and aversion, and greed, and errors of judgment arise. The mind of one overwhelmed by greed and error and affected by attachment and aversion is never directed to virtue. One then begins with hypocrisy to do acts that are good. Indeed, with hypocrisy one then seeks to acquire virtue, and with hypocrisy one likes to acquire wealth. When one succeeds, O son of Kuru's race, in winning wealth with hypocrisy, one sets one's heart to such acquisition wholly. It is then that one begins to do acts that are sinful, notwithstanding the admonitions of well-wishers and the wise, unto all which he makes answers plausibly consistent with reason and conformable to the injunctions of the scriptures. Born of attachment and error, his sins, of three kinds, rapidly increase, for he thinks sinfully, speaks sinfully, and acts sinfully. When he fairly starts on the way of sin, they that are good mark his wickedness. They, however, that are of a disposition similar to that of the sinful man, enter into friendship with him. He succeeds not in winning happiness even here. Whence then would he succeed in winning happiness hereafter? It is thus that one becomes sinful. Listen now to me as I speak to thee of one that is righteous. Such a man, inasmuch as he seeks the good of others, succeeds in winning good for himself. By practising duties that are fraught with other people's good, he attains at last to a highly agreeable end. He who, aided by his wisdom, succeeds beforehand in beholding the faults above adverted to, who is skilled in judging of what is happiness and what is sorrow and how each is brought about, and who waits with reverence upon those that are good, makes progress in achieving virtue, both in consequence of his habit and such companionship of the good. The mind of such a person takes delight in virtue, and he lives on, making virtue his support. If he sets his heart on the acquisition of wealth, he desires only such wealth as may be acquired in righteous ways. Indeed, he waters the roots of only those things in which he sees merit. In this way, doth one become righteous and acquires friends that are good. In consequence of his acquisition of friends, of wealth, and of children, he sports in happiness both here and hereafter. The mastery (in respect of enjoyment) that a living creature attains over sound, touch, taste, form, and scent, O Bharata, represents the fruit of virtue.[1296] Remember this. Having obtained the fruit of virtue, O Yudhishthira, such a man does not give himself up to joy. Without being contented with such (visible) fruits of virtue he betakes himself to Renunciation, led on by the eye of knowledge. When, having acquired the eye of knowledge, he ceases to take pleasure in the gratification of desire, in taste and in scent, when he does not allow his mind to run towards sound, touch and form, it is then that he succeeds in freeing himself from desire.[1297] He does not, however, even then cast off virtue or righteous acts. Beholding then all the worlds to be liable to destruction, he strives to cast off virtue (with its rewards in the form of heaven and its happiness) and endeavours to attain to Emancipation by the (well-known) means.[1298] Gradually abandoning all sinful acts he betakes himself to Renunciation, and becoming righteous-souled succeeds at last in attaining to Emancipation. I have now told thee, O son, of that about which thou hadst asked me, viz., the topics of Sin, Righteousness, Renunciation, and Emancipation, O Bharata! Thou shouldst, therefore, O Yudhishthira, adhere to virtue in all situations. Eternal is the success, O son of Kunti, of thee that adherest to righteousness."'"[1299] SECTION CCLXXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast said, O grandsire, that Emancipation is to be won by means and not otherwise. I desire to hear duly what those means are." "'Bhishma said, "O thou of great wisdom, this enquiry that thou hast addressed to me and that is connected with a subtle topic, is really worthy of thee, since thou, O sinless one, always seekest to accomplish all thy objects by the application of means. That state of mind which is present when one sets oneself to make an earthen jar for one's use, disappears after the jar has been completed. After the same manner, that cause which urges persons who regard virtue as the root of advancement and prosperity ceases to operate with them that seek to achieve Emancipation.[1300] That path which leads to the Eastern Ocean is not the path by which one can go to the Western Ocean. There is only one path that leads to Emancipation. (It is not identical with any of those that lead to any other object of acquisition). Listen to me as I discourse on it to thee in detail. One should, by practising forgiveness, exterminate wrath, and by abandoning all purposes, root out desire. By practising the quality of Sattwa[1301] one should conquer sleep. By heedfulness one should keep off fear, and by contemplation of the Soul one should conquer breath.[1302] Desire, aversion, and lust, one should dispel by patience; error, ignorance, and doubt, by study of truth. By pursuit after knowledge one should avoid insouciance and inquiry after things of no interest.[1303] By frugal and easily digestible fare one should drive off all disorders and diseases. By contentment one should dispel greed and stupefaction of judgment, and all worldly concerns should be avoided by a knowledge of the truth.[1304] By practising benevolence one should conquer iniquity, and by regard for all creatures one should acquire virtue. One should avoid expectation by the reflection that it is concerned with the future; and one should cast off wealth by abandoning desire itself. The man of intelligence should abandon affection by recollecting that everything (here) is transitory. He should subdue hunger by practising Yoga. By practising benevolence one should keep off all ideas of self-importance, and drive off all sorts of craving by adopting contentment. By exertion one should subdue procrastination, and by certainty all kinds of doubt, by taciturnity, loquaciousness, and by courage, every kind of fear.[1305] Speech and mind are to be subdued by the Understanding, and the Understanding, in its turn, is to be kept under control by the eye of knowledge. Knowledge, again, is to be controlled by acquaintance with the Soul, and finally the Soul is to be controlled by the Soul.[1306] This last is attainable by those that are of pure-acts and endued with tranquillity of soul,[1307] the means being the subjugation of those five impediments of Yoga of which the learned speak. By casting off desire and wrath and covetousness and fear and sleep, one should, restraining speech, practise what is favourable to Yoga, viz., contemplation, study, gift, truth, modesty, candour, forgiveness, purity of heart, purity in respect of food, and the subjugation of the senses. By these one's energy is increased, sins are dispelled, wishes crowned with fruition, and knowledge (of diverse kinds) gained. When one becomes cleansed of one's sins and possessed of energy and frugal of fare and the master of one's senses, one then, having conquered both desire and wrath, seeks to attain to Brahma. The avoidance of ignorance (by listening to and studying the scriptures), the absence of attachment (in consequence of Renunciation), freedom from desire and wrath (by adoption of contentment and forgiveness), the puissance that is won by Yoga, the absence of pride and haughtiness, freedom from anxiety (by subjugation of every kind of fear), absence of attachment of anything like home and family,--these constitute the path of Emancipation. That path is delightful, stainless, and pure. Similarly, the restraining of speech, of body, and of mind, when practised from the absence of desire, constitutes also the path of Emancipation."'"[1308] SECTION CCLXXV "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse that took place between Narada and Asita-Devala. Once on a time Narada, beholding that foremost of intelligent men, viz., Devala of venerable years, seated at his ease, questioned him about the origin and the destruction of all creatures." "'"Narada said, 'Whence, O Brahmana, hath this universe, consisting of mobile and immobile objects, been created? When again doth the all-embracing destruction come, into whom doth it merge? Let thy learned self discourse to me on this.' "'"Asita said, 'Those from which the Supreme Soul, when the time comes, moved by the desire of existence in manifold forms, creates all creatures, are said by persons conversant with objects to be the five great essences.[1309] (After this) Time, impelled by the Understanding creates other objects from those (five primal essences).[1310] He that says that there is anything else besides these (i.e., the five primal essences, Kala, and the Understanding), says what is not true. Know, O Narada, that these five are eternal, indestructible, and without beginning and without end. With Kala as their sixth, these five primal essences are naturally possessed of mighty energy. Water, Space, Earth, Wind, and Heat,--these are those five essences. Without doubt, there is nothing higher or superior to these (in point of puissance or energy). The existence of nothing else (than five) can be affirmed by any one agreeably to the conclusions derivable from the Srutis or arguments drawn from reason. If any one does assert the existence of anything else, then his assertion would verily be idle or vain. Know that these six enter into the production of all effects. That of which are all these (which thou perceivest) is called Asat.[1311] These five, and Kala (or Jiva), the potencies of past acts, and ignorance,--these eight eternal essences are the causes of the birth and destruction of all creatures.[1312] When creatures are destroyed it is into these that they enter; and when they take birth, it is again from them they do so. Indeed, after destruction, a creature resolves itself into those five primal essences. His body is made of earth; his ear has its origin in space; his eye hath light for its cause; his life (motion) is of wind, and his blood is of water, without doubt. The two eyes, the nose, the two ears, the skin, and the tongue (constituting the fifth), are the senses. These, the learned know, exist for perception of their respective objects.[1313] Vision, hearing, smelling, touching, and tasting are the functions of the senses. The five senses are concerned with five objects in five ways. Know, by the inference of reason, their similitude of attributes.[1314] Form, scent, taste, touch, and sound, are the five properties that are (respectively) apprehended by the five senses in five different ways. These five properties, viz., form, scent, taste, touch, and sound, are not really apprehended by the _senses_ (for these are inert), but it is the Soul that apprehends them _through_ the senses. That which is called Chitta is superior to the multitude of senses. Superior to Chitta is Manas. Superior to Manas is Buddhi, and superior to Buddhi is Kshetrajna.[1315] At first a living creature perceives different objects through the senses. With Manas he reflects over them, and then with the aid of Buddhi he arrives at certitude of knowledge. Possessed of Buddhi, one arrives at certainty of conclusions in respect of objects perceived through the senses. The five senses, Chitta, Mind and Understanding (which is the eighth in the tale),--these are regarded as organs of knowledge by those conversant with the science of Adhyatma. The hands, the feet, the anal duct, the membrum virile, the mouth (forming the fifth in the tale), constitute the five organs of action. The mouth is spoken of as an organ of action because it contains the apparatus of speech, and that of eating. The feet are organs of locomotion and the hands for doing various kinds of work. The anal duct and the membrum virile are two organs that exist for a similar purpose, viz., for evacuation. The first is for evacuation of stools, the second for that of urine as also of the vital seed when one feels the influence of desire. Besides these, there is a sixth organ of action. It is called muscular power. These then are the names of the six organs of action according to the (approved) treatises bearing on the subject. I have now mentioned to thee the names of all the organs of knowledge and of action, and all the attributes of the five (primal) essences.[1316] When in consequence of the organs being fatigued, they cease to perform their respective functions, the owner of those organs, because of their suspension, is said to sleep. If, when the functions of these organs are suspended, the functions of the mind do not cease, but on the other hand the mind continues to concern itself with its objects, the condition of consciousness is called Dream. During wakefulness there are three states of the mind, viz., that connected with Goodness, that with Passion, and that with Darkness. In dream also the mind becomes concerned with the same three states. Those very states, when they appear in dreams, connected with pleasurable actions, come to be regarded with applause. Happiness, success, knowledge, and absence of attachment are the indications of (the wakeful man in whom is present) the attribute of Goodness. Whatever states (of Goodness, Passion, or Darkness) are experienced by living creatures, as exhibited in acts, during their hours of Wakefulness, reappear in memory during their hours of sleep when they dream. The passage of our notions as they exist during wakefulness into those of dreams, and that of notions as they exist in dreams into those of wakefulness, become directly apprehensible in that state of consciousness which is called dreamless slumber. That is eternal, and that is desirable.[1317] There are five organs of knowledge, and five of actions; with muscular power, mind, understanding, and Chitta, and with also the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas, the tale, it has been said, comes up to seventeen. The eighteenth in the enumeration is he who owneth the body, Indeed, he who lives in this body is eternal. All those seventeen (with Avidya or Ignorance making eighteen), dwelling in the body, exist attached to him who owns the body. When the owner disappears from the body, those eighteen (counting Avidya) cease to dwell together in the body. Or, this body made up of the five (primal) essences is only a combination (that must dissolve away). The eighteen attributes (including Avidya), with him that owneth the body, and counting stomachic heat numbering twentieth in the tale, form that which is known as the Combination of the Five. There is a Being called Mahat, which, with the aid of the wind (called Prana), upholds this combination containing the twenty things that have been named, and in the matter of the destruction of that body the wind (which is generally spoken of as the cause) is only the instrument in the hands of that same Mahat. Whatever creature is born is resolved once more into the five constituent elements upon the exhaustion of his merits and demerits; and urged again by the merits and demerits won in that life enters into another body resulting from his acts.[1318] His abodes always resulting from Avidya, desire, and acts, he migrates from body to body, abandoning one after another repeatedly, urged on by Time, like a person abandoning house after house in succession. They that are wise, and endued with certainty of knowledge, do not give way to grief upon beholding this (migration). Only they that are foolish, erroneously supposing relationships (where relationship in reality there is none) indulge in grief at sight of such changes of abode. This Jiva is no one's relation; there is none again that may be said to belong to him. He is always alone, and he himself creates his own body and his own happiness and misery. This Jiva is never born, nor doth he ever die. Freed from the bond of body, he succeeds sometimes in attaining to the highest end. Deprived of body, because freed through the exhaustion of acts from bodies that are the results of merits and demerits, Jiva at last attains to Brahma. For the exhaustion of both merits and demerits, Knowledge has been ordained as the cause in the Sankhya school. Upon the exhaustion of merit and demerit, when Jiva attains to the status of Brahma,[1319] (they that are learned in the scriptures) behold (with the eye of the scriptures) the attainment of Jiva to the highest end.'"'" SECTION CCLXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Cruel and sinful that we are, alas, we have slain brothers and sires and grandsons and kinsmen and friends and sons. How, O grandsire, shall we dispel this thirst for wealth. Alas, through that thirst we have perpetrated many sinful deeds." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of what was said by the ruler of the Videhas unto the enquiring Mandavya. The ruler of the Videhas said, 'I have nothing (in this world), yet I live in great happiness. If the whole of Mithila (which is said to be my kingdom) burn in a conflagration, nothing of mine will be burnt down. Tangible possessions, however valuable, are a source of sorrow to men of knowledge; while possessions of even little value fascinate the foolish.[1320] Whatever happiness exists here, derivable from the gratification of desire, and whatever heavenly happiness exists of high value, do not come up to even a sixteenth part of the felicity that attends the total disappearance of desire. As the horns of a cow grow with the growth of the cow itself, after the same manner the thirst for wealth increases with increasing acquisitions of wealth. Whatever the object for which one feels an attachment, that object becomes a source of pain when it is lost. One should not cherish desire. Attachment to desire leads to sorrow. When wealth has been acquired, one should apply it to purposes of virtue. One should even then give up desire.[1321] The man of knowledge always looks upon other creatures even as he looks upon himself. Having cleansed his soul and attained to success, he casts off everything here.[1322] By casting off both truth and falsehood, grief and joy, the agreeable and disagreeable, fearlessness and fear, one attains to tranquillity, and becomes free from every anxiety. That thirst (for earthly things) which is difficult of being cast off by men of foolish understanding, which wanes not with the wane of the body, and which is regarded as a fatal disease (by men of knowledge), one who succeeds in casting off is sure to find felicity. The man of virtuous soul, by beholding his own behaviour that has become bright as the moon and free from evil of every kind, succeeds in happily attaining to great fame both here and hereafter.' Hearing these words of the king, the Brahmana became filled with joy, and applauding what he heard, Mandavya betook himself to the path of Emancipation."'" SECTION CCLXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Time, that is fraught, with terror unto all creatures, is running his course. What is that source of good after which one should strive? Tell me this, O grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of a discourse between a sire and a son. Listen to it, O Yudhishthira! Once on a time, O son of Pritha, a regenerate person devoted only to the study of the Vedas had a very intelligent son who was known by the name of Medhavin. Himself conversant with the religion of Emancipation, the son one day asked his father who was not conversant with that religion and who was engaged in following the precepts of the Vedas, this question. "'"The son said, 'What should a man of intelligence do, O sire, knowing that the period of existence allotted to men runs fast away? Tell me this truly and in proper order, O father, so that, guided by thy instructions I may set myself to the acquisition of virtue.' "'"The sire said, 'Having studied the Vedas all the while observing the duties of Brahmacharya, O son, one should then desire for offspring for the sake of rescuing one's sires. Having established one's fire then and performing the sacrifices that are ordained, one should then retire into the woods and (having lived as a forest-recluse) one should then become a Muni (by casting off everything and calmly waiting for dissolution).' "'"The son said, 'When the world is thus assailed and thus besieged on all sides, and when such irresistible (bolts) are falling in every direction, how can you speak so calmly?' "'"The sire said, 'How is the world assailed? By what is it besieged? What are those irresistible bolts that are falling on every side? Dost thou frighten me with thy words?' "'"The son said, 'The world is assailed by Death. It is besieged by Decrepitude. Days and Nights are continually falling (like bolts). Why do you not take heed of these? When I know that Death does not wait here for any one (but snatches all away suddenly and without notice), how can I possibly wait (for his coming) thus enveloped in a coat of Ignorance and (heedlessly) attending to my concerns? When as each night passes away the period of every one's life wears away with it, when, indeed, one's position is similar to that of a fish in a piece of shallow water, who can feel happy? Death encounters one in the very midst of one's concerns, before the attainment of one's objects, finding one as unmindful as a person while engaged in plucking flowers.[1323] That which is kept for being done tomorrow should be done today; and that which one thinks of doing in the afternoon should be done in the forenoon. Death does not wait, mindful of one's having done or not done one's acts. Do today what is for thy good (without keeping it for tomorrow). See that Death, who is irresistible, may not overcome thee (before you accomplish thy acts). Who knows that Death will not come to one this very day? Before one's acts are completed, Death drags one away. One should, therefore, commence to practise virtue while one is still young (without waiting for one's old age), for life is uncertain. By acquiring virtue one is sure to eternal happiness both here and hereafter. Overpowered by folly one girds up one's loins for acting on behalf of one's sons and wives. By accomplishing acts foul or fair, one gratifies these (relatives). Him possessed of sons and animals, and with mind devotedly attached to them, Death seizes and runs away like a tiger bearing away a sleeping deer.[1324] While one is still engaged in winning diverse objects of desire, and while still unsatiated with one's enjoyment, Death seizes one and runs away like a she-wolf seizing a sheep and running away with it. "This has been done",--"this remains to be done",--"this other is half done",--one may say thus to oneself; but Death, unmindful of one's desire to finish one's unfinished acts, seizes and drags one away. One that has not yet obtained the fruit of what one has already done, amongst those attached to action, one busied with one's field or shop or house, Death seizes and carries away. The weak, the strong, the wise, the brave, the idiotic, the learned, or him that has not yet obtained the gratification of any of his desires, Death seizes and bears away. Death, decrepitude, disease, sorrow, and many things of a similar kind, are incapable of being avoided by mortals. How, then, O father, canst thou sit so at thy ease? As soon as a creature is born, Decrepitude and Death come and possess him for his destruction. All these forms of existence mobile and immobile, are possessed by these two (viz., Decrepitude and Death). When the soldiers that compose Death's army are on their march, nothing can resist them, except that one thing, viz., the power of Truth, for in Truth alone Immortality dwells. The delight that one feels of residing in the midst of men is the abode of Death. The Sruti declares that that which is called the forest is the true fold for the Devas, while the delight one feels in dwelling in the midst of men is, as it were, the cord for binding the dweller (and making him helpless).[1325] The righteous cut it and escape. The sinful do not succeed in cutting it (and freeing themselves). He who does not injure other creatures in thought, word and deed, and who never injures others by taking away their means of sustenance, is never injured by any creature.[1326] For these reasons, one should practise the vow of truth, be steadily devoted to the vow of truth, and should desire nothing but the truth. Restraining all one's senses and looking upon all creatures with an equal eye, one should vanquish Death with the aid of Truth. Both Immortality and Death are planted in the body. Death is encountered from folly, and Immortality is won by Truth. Transcending desire and wrath, and abstaining from injury, I shall adopt Truth and happily achieving what is for my good, avoid Death like an Immortal. Engaged in the Sacrifice that is constituted by Peace, and employed also in the Sacrifice of Brahma, and restraining my senses, the Sacrifices I shall perform are those of speech, mind, and acts, when the sun enters his northerly course.[1327] How can one like me perform an Animal Sacrifice which is fraught with cruelty? How can one like me, that is possessed of wisdom, perform like a cruel Pisacha, a Sacrifice of Slaughter after the manner of what is laid down for the Kshatriyas,--a Sacrifice that is, besides, endued with rewards that are terminable? In myself have I been begotten by my own self. O father, without seeking to procreate offspring, I shall rest myself on my own self. I shall perform the Sacrifice of Self, I need no offspring to rescue me.[1328] He whose words and thoughts are always well-restrained, he who has Penances and Renunciation, and Yoga, is sure to attain to everything through these. There is no eye equal to Knowledge. There is no reward equal to Knowledge. There is no sorrow equal to attachment. There is no happiness equal to Renunciation. For a Brahmana there can be no wealth like residence in solitude, an equal regard for all creatures, truthfulness of speech, steady observance of good conduct, the total abandonment of the rod (of chastisement), simplicity, and the gradual abstention from all acts.[1329] What need hast thou with wealth and what need with relatives and friends, and what with spouses? Thou art a Brahmana and thou hast death to encounter. Search thy own Self that is concealed in a cave. Whither have thy grandsires gone and whither thy sire too?'"[1330] "'Bhishma said, "Hearing these words of his son, the sire acted in the way that was pointed out, O king! Do thou also act in the same way, devoted to the religion of Truth."'" SECTION CCLXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Of what behaviour must a man be, of what acts, of what kind of knowledge, and to what must he be devoted, for attaining to Brahma's place which transcends Prakriti and which is unchangeable?" "'Bhishma said, "One that is devoted to the religion of Emancipation, frugal in fare, and the master of one's senses, attains to that high place which transcends Prakriti and is unchangeable.[1331] Retiring from one's home, regarding gain and loss in the same light, restraining the senses, and disregarding all objects of desire even when they are ready (for enjoyment), one should adopt a life of Renunciation.[1332] Neither with eye, nor with word, nor in thought, should one disparage another. Nor should one speak evil of any person either in or out of his hearing. One should abstain from injuring any creature, and conduct oneself observing the course of the Sun.[1333] Having come into this life, one should not behave with unfriendliness towards any creature. One should disregard opprobrious speeches, and never in arrogance deem oneself as superior to another. When sought to be angered by another, one should still utter agreeable speeches. Even when calumniated, one should not calumniate in return. One should not behave in a friendly or an unfriendly way in the midst of human beings. One should not go about visiting many houses in one's round of mendicancy. Nor should one go to any house having received a previous invitation (to dinner).[1334] Even when bespattered with filth (by others), one should, resting firmly in the observance of one's duties, refrain from addressing such bespatterers in disagreeable speeches. One should be compassionate. One should abstain from returning an injury. One should be fearless; one should refrain from self-laudation. The man of restrained senses should seek his dole of charity in a householder's abode when the smoke has ceased to rise from it, when the sound of the husking rod is hushed, when the hearth-fire is extinguished, when all the inmates have finished their meals, or when the hour is over for setting the dishes.[1335] He should content himself with only as much as is barely necessary for keeping body and soul together. Even that much of food which produces gratification should not be coveted by him. When he fails to obtain what he wants, he should not suffer himself to cherish discontent. Success, again, in obtaining what he wants, should not make him glad.[1336] He should never wish for such things as are coveted by ordinary men. He should never eat at anybody's house when respectfully invited thereto. One like him should reprobate such gains as are obtained with honour.[1337] He should never find fault (on account of staleness, etc.) with the food placed before him, nor should he applaud its merits. He should covet a bed and a seat that are removed from the haunts of men. The places he should seek are such as a deserted house, the foot of a tree, a forest, or a cave. Without allowing his practices to be known by others, or concealing their real nature by appearing to adopt others (that are hateful or repulsive), he should enter his own Self.[1338] By association with Yoga and dissociation from company, he should be perfectly equable, steadily fixed, and uniform. He should not earn either merit or demerit by means of acts.[1339] He should be always gratified, well-contented, of cheerful face and cheerful senses, fearless, always engaged in mental recitation of sacred mantras, silent, and wedded to a life of Renunciation. Beholding the repeated formation and dissolution of his own body with the senses that result from and resolve into the elemental essences, and seeing also the advent and departure of (other) creatures, he should become free from desire and learn to cast equal eyes upon all, subsisting upon both cooked and uncooked food. Frugal in respect of his fare, and subjugating his senses, he achieves tranquillity of Self by Self.[1340] One should control the (rising) impulses of words, of the mind, of wrath, of envy, of hunger, and of lust. Devoted to penances for cleansing his heart, he should never allow the censures (of others) to afflict his heart. One should live, having assumed a status of neutrality with respect to all creatures, and regard praise and blame as equal. This, indeed, is the holiest and the highest path of the Sannyasa mode of life. Possessed of high soul, the Sannyasin should restrain his senses from all things and keep himself aloof from all attachments. He should never repair to the places visited by him and the men known to him while leading the prior modes of life. Agreeable to all creatures, and without a fixed home, he should be devoted to the contemplation of Self. He should never mingle with house-holders and forest-recluses. He should eat such food as he may obtain without effort (and without having thought of it beforehand).[1341] He should never suffer joy to possess his heart. To those that are wise such a life of Renunciation is the means for the attainment of Emancipation. To those, however, that are fools the practice of these duties is exceedingly burthensome. The sage Harita declared all this to be the path by which Emancipation is to be achieved. He who sets forth from his home, having assured all creatures of his perfect harmlessness, attains to many bright regions of felicity which prove unending or eternal."'" SECTION CCLXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "All men speak of ourselves as highly fortunate. In truth, however, there is no person more wretched than ourselves. Though honoured by all the world, O best of the Kurus, and though we have been born among men, O grandsire, having been begotten by the very gods, yet when so much sorrow has been our lot, it seems, O reverend chief, that birth alone in an embodied form is the cause of all sorrow. Alas, when shall we adopt a life of Renunciation that is destructive of sorrow?[1342] Sages of rigid vows freed from the seven and ten (i.e., the five breaths, mind, understanding, and the ten organs of knowledge and action), from the five faults of Yoga (viz., desire, wrath, covetousness, fear, and sleep) that constitute the chief causes (for binding man to repeated rounds of earthly life), and from the other eight, viz., the five objects of the senses and the three attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas), have never to incur rebirth. When, O scorcher of foes, shall we succeed in abandoning sovereignty for adopting a life of renunciation?" "'Bhishma said, "Everything, O great monarch, hath an end. Everything hath bounds assigned to it. Even rebirth, it is well-known, hath an end. In this world there is nothing that is immutable. Thou thinkest, O king, that this (viz., the affluence with which thou art invested is a fault). That it is not so is not true, in regard to our present topic of disquisition. Ye, however, are conversant with virtue, and have readiness. It is certain, therefore, that ye shall attain to the end of your sorrow, (viz., Emancipation) in time.[1343] Jiva equipped with body, O king, is not the author of his merits and demerits (or their fruits as represented by happiness and misery). On the other hand, he becomes enveloped by the Darkness (of Ignorance having attachment and aversion for its essence) that is born of his merits and demerits.[1344] As the wind impregnated with dust of antimony once again seizes the efflorescence of realgar and (though itself destitute of colour) assumes the hues of the substances which it has seized and tinges the different points of the compass (which represent its own hueless progenitor, viz., space), after the same manner, Jiva, though himself colourless, assumes a hue in consequence of being enveloped by Darkness and variegated by the fruits of action, and travels from body to body (making his own stainless and immutable progenitor appear as stained and changeful).[1345] When Jiva succeeds in dispelling by means of Knowledge, the Darkness that invests him in consequence of Ignorance, then Immutable Brahma becomes displayed (in all His glory). The Sages say that reversion to Immutable Brahma is incapable of being achieved by Acts. Thyself, others in the world, and the deities too, should reverence them that have achieved Emancipation. All the great Rishis never desist from culture of Brahma.[1346] In this connection is cited that discourse which was sung (by the preceptor of the Daityas) in days of old. Listen, O monarch, with undivided attention to the course of conduct that was followed by the Daitya Vritra after he became divested of all his prosperity. Depending only upon his intelligence, he did not indulge in sorrow, in the midst of his enemies, although he was deprived of sovereignty, O Bharata! Unto Vritra, when in days of old he was reft of sovereignty, (his preceptor) Usanas said, 'I hope, O Danava, that in consequence of thy defeat thou dost not cherish any grief?' "'"Vritra said, 'Without doubt, having understood, by the aid of truth and penances, the advent and departure of all living creatures, I have ceased to indulge in either grief or joy. Urged by Time creatures sink helplessly in hell. Some again, the sages say, go to heaven. All these pass their time in contentment. Passing their allotted periods in heaven and hell, and with some portion of their merits and demerits unexhausted (by enjoyment and suffering), they repeatedly take birth, impelled by Time. Chained by the bonds of Desire, creatures pass through myriads of intermediate lives and fall helplessly into hell.[1347] I have seen that creatures come and go even thus. The lesson inculcated in the Scriptures is that one's acquisitions correspond with one's acts.[1348] Creatures take birth as men or as intermediate animals or as gods and go to hell. Having acted in lives, that are past in such a way as to deserve them, all creatures, subject to the ordinances of the Destroyer, meet with happiness and misery, the agreeable and the disagreeable. Having enjoyed the measure of weal or woe that corresponds with their acts, creatures always come back by the old path,[1349] which is measured by the measure of acts.' Then the illustrious Usanas addressed the Asura Vritra who was thus talking of the highest refuge of the creation, saying, 'O intelligent Daitya, why, O child, dost thou utter such foolish rhapsodies?' "'"Vritra said, 'The severe penances which I underwent from greed of victory are well-known to thee as also to other sages. Appropriating diverse scents and diverse kinds of tastes that other creatures had for enjoying, I swelled up with my own energy, afflicting the three worlds. Decked with myriads of effulgent rays I used to rove through the skies (on my celestial car), incapable of being defeated by any creature and fearing none. I achieved great prosperity through my penances and lost it again through my own acts. Relying on my fortitude, however, I do not grieve for this change. Desirous (in days of yore) of fighting the great Indra, the high-souled ruler of the heavens, I beheld in that battle the illustrious Hari, the puissant Narayana,[1350] He who is called Vaikuntha, Purusha, Ananta, Sukla, Vishnu, Sanatana, Munjakesa, Harismasru, and the Grandsire of all creatures.[1351] Without doubt, there is still a remnant (to be enjoyed by me) of the rewards attaching to that penance represented by a sight of the great Hari. It is in consequence of that unexhausted remnant that I have become desirous of asking thee, O illustrious one, about the fruits of action![1352] Upon which order (of men) hath been established high Brahma prosperity? In what manner, again, doth high prosperity fall off? From whom do creatures spring and live? Through whom again do they act? What is that high fruit by attaining to which a creature succeeds in living eternally as Brahma? By what Act or by what Knowledge can that fruit be achieved? It behoveth thee, O learned Brahmana, to expound these to me.' "'"Recapitulated by me, O lion among kings, listen with undivided attention, O bull of men, with all thy brothers, to what the sage Usanas then said after he had been thus addressed by that prince of Danavas."'" SECTION CCLXXX "'"Usanas said, 'I bow to that divine and illustrious and puissant Being who holds this earth with the firmament in his arms. I shall speak to thee of the pre-eminent greatness of that Vishnu whose head, O best of the Danavas, is that Infinite place (called Emancipation).' "'"While they were thus conversing with each other there came unto them the great sage Sanatkumara of righteous soul for the purpose of dispelling their doubts. Worshipped by the prince of Asuras and by the sage Usanas, that foremost of sages sat down on a costly seat. After Kumara of great wisdom had been seated (at his ease), Usanas said unto him, 'Discourse to this chief of the Danavas on the pre-eminent greatness of Vishnu.' Hearing these words, Sanatkumara uttered the following, fraught with grave import, upon the pre-eminent greatness of Vishnu unto the intelligent chief of the Danavas, 'Listen, O Daitya, to everything about the greatness of Vishnu. Know, O scorcher of foes, that the entire universe rests on Vishnu. O thou of mighty arms, it is He who creates all creatures mobile and immobile. In course of Time it is He, again, who withdraws all things and in Time it is He who once more casts them forth from Himself. Into Hari all things merge at the universal destruction and from Him all things again come forth. Men possessed of scriptural lore cannot obtain him by such lore. Nor can He be obtained by Penances, nor by Sacrifices. The only means by which He can be attained is by restraining the Senses. Not that sacrifices are entirely useless towards such an end. For one, by relying upon both external and internal acts, and upon one's own mind, can purify (them) by one's own understanding. By such means, one succeeds in enjoying infinity in the world.[1353] As a goldsmith purifies the dross of his metal by repeatedly casting it into the fire with very persistent efforts of his own, after the same manner Jiva succeeds in cleaning himself by his course through hundreds of births. Some one may be seen to purify himself in only one life by mighty efforts. As one should with care wipe stains from off one's person before they become thick, after the same manner one should, with vigorous efforts, wash off one's faults.[1354] By mixing only a few flowers with them, grains of sesame cannot be made to cast off their own odour (and become at once fragrant). After the same manner, one cannot, by cleansing one's heart only a little, succeed in beholding the Soul. When, however, those grains are perfumed repeatedly with the aid of a large quantity of flowers, it is then that they cast off their own odour and assume that of the flowers with which they are mixed. After this manner, faults, in the form of attachments to all our environments, are dispelled by the understanding in course of many lives, with the aid of a large dose of the attribute of the Sattwa, and by means of efforts born of practice.[1355] Listen, O Danava, by what means creatures attached to acts and those unattached to them attain the causes that lead to their respective states of mind.[1356] Listen to me with undivided attention. I shall, in their due order, discourse to thee, O puissant Danava, as to how creatures betake themselves to action and how they give up action.[1357] The Supreme Lord creates all creatures mobile and immobile. He is without beginning and without end. Unendued with attributes of any kind, he assumes attributes (when he chooses to create). He is the universal Destroyer, the Refuge of all things, the Supreme Ordainer, and pure Chit.[1358] In all creatures it is He who dwells as the mutable and the immutable. It is He who, having eleven modifications for His essence, drinketh this universe with His rays.[1359] Know that the Earth is His feet. His head is constituted by Heaven. His arms, O Daitya, are the several points of the compass or the horizon. The intermediate space is His ears. The light of His eye is the Sun, and His mind is in the Moon. His understanding dwells always in Knowledge, and His tongue is in Water.[1360] O best of Danavas, the Planets are in the midst of His brows. The stars and constellations are from the light of His eyes. The Earth is in His feet, O Danava! Know also that the attributes of Rajas, Tamas, and Sattwa are of Him. He is the fruit (or end) of all the modes of life, and He it is who should be known as the fruit (or reward) of all (pious) acts (such as Japa and Sacrifice, etc.).[1361] The Highest and Immutable, He is also the fruit of abstention from all work. The Chandas are the hair on His body, and Akshara (or Pranava) is His word. The diverse orders (of men) and the modes of life are His refuge. His mouths are many. Duty (or religion) is planted in his heart. He is Brahma; He is the highest Righteousness; He is Sat and He is Asat;[1362] He is Sruti; He is the scriptures; He is the Sacrificial vessel; He is the six and ten Ritwijes; He is all the Sacrifices; He is the Grandsire (Brahman); He is Vishnu; He is the twin Aswins; and He is Purandara;[1363] He is Mitra; He is Varuna; He is Yama; He is Kuvera the lord of treasures. Although the Ritwijes seem to behold Him as separate, He is, however, known to them as one and the same. Know that this entire universe is under the control of One divine Being.[1364] The Veda that is in the soul, O prince of Daityas, regards the unity of various creatures. When a living creature realises this unity in consequence of true knowledge, he is then said to attain to Brahma. The period of time for which one creation exists or for which it ceases to exist is called a Kalpa. Living creatures exist for a thousand millions of such Kalpas. Immobile creatures also exist for an equal period. The period for which a particular creation exists is measured by many thousands of lakes (in the following way), O Daitya! Conceive a lake that is one Yojana in width, one Krosa in depth, and five hundred Yojanas in length. Imagine many thousands of such lakes. Seek then to dry up those lakes by taking from them, only once a day, as much water as may be taken up with the end of a single hair. The number of days would pass in drying them up completely by this process represents the period that is occupied by the life of one creation from its first start to the time of its destruction.[1365] The highest Evidence (for all things) says that creatures have six colours, viz., Dark, Tawny, Blue, Red, Yellow, and White. These colours proceed from mixtures in various proportions of the three attributes of Rajas, Tamas, and Sattwa. Where Tamas predominates, Sattwa falls below the mark, and Rajas keeps to the mark, the result is the colour called Dark. When Tamas predominates as before, but the relations between Sattwa and Rajas are reversed, the result is the colour called Tawny. When Rajas predominates, Sattwa falls below the mark, and Tamas keeps to the mark, the result is the colour called Blue. When Rajas predominates as before and the proportion is reversed between Sattwa and Tamas, the result is the intermediate colour called Red. That Colour is more agreeable (than the preceding one). When Sattwa predominates, Rajas falls below the mark and Tamas keeps to the mark, the result is the colour called Yellow. It is productive of happiness. When Sattwa predominates and the proportion is reversed between Rajas and Tamas, the result is the colour called White. It is productive of great happiness.[1366] The White is the foremost colour. It is sinless in consequence of its being free from attachment and aversion. It is without grief, and free from the toil involved in Pravritti. Hence, White, O prince of Danavas, leads to success (or Emancipation). Jiva, O Daitya, having undergone thousands of births derived through the womb, attains to success.[1367] That success is the identical end which the divine Indra declared after having studied many auspicious spiritual treatises and which has for its essence the apprehension of the Soul. The end again that creatures obtain is dependent on their colour, and colour, in its turn, depends upon the character of the Time that sets in, O Daitya![1368] The stages of existence, O Daitya, through which Jiva must pass are not unlimited. They are fourteen hundreds of thousands in number. In consequence of them Jiva ascends, stays, and falls down as the case may be.[1369] The end that is attained by a Jiva of dark hue is very low, for he becomes addicted to acts that lead to hell and then has to rot in hell.[1370] The learned say that in consequence of his wickedness, the continuance (in such form) of a Jiva is measured by many thousands of Kalpas.[1371] Having passed many hundred thousands of years in that condition, Jiva then attains to the colour called Tawny (and becomes born as an intermediate creature). In that condition he dwells (for many long years), in perfect helplessness. At last when his sins are exhausted (in consequence of his having endured all the misery they are capable of bringing), his mind, casting off all attachments, cherishes Renunciation.[1372] When Jiva becomes endued with the quality of Sattwa, he then dispels everything connected with Tamas by the aid of his intelligence, and exerts (for achieving what is for his good). As the result of this, Jiva attains to the colour called Red. If the quality of Sattwa, however, be not gained, Jiva then travels in a round of rebirths in the world of men, having attained to the colour called Blue.[1373] Having attained to that end (viz., Humanity) and having been afflicted for the duration of one creation by the bonds born of his own acts, Jiva then attains to the colour called Yellow (or becomes a Deity). Existing in that condition for the space of a hundred creations, he then leaves it (for becoming a human being) to return to it once more.[1374] Having attained to the Yellow colour, Jiva exists for thousands of Kalpas, sporting as a Deva. Without, however, being emancipated (even then), he has to stay in hell, enjoying or enduring the fruits of his acts of past Kalpas and wandering through nine and ten thousand courses.[1375] Know that Jiva becomes freed from the hell (of acts) as represented by heaven or godship. After the same manner, Jiva gets off from the other births (corresponding with the other colours). Jiva sports for many long Kalpas in the world of Devas. Falling thence, he once more obtains the status of Humanity. He then stays in that condition for the space of a hundred and eight Kalpas. He then attains once more to the status of a Deva. If while in the status of humanity (for the second time) he falleth through (evil acts as represented by) Kala (in the form of Kali), he then sinks into the Dark colour and thus occupies the very lowest of all stages of existence. "'"'I shall tell thee now, O foremost of Asuras, how Jiva succeeds in effecting his Emancipation. Desirous of Emancipation, Jiva, relying upon seven hundred kinds of acts every one of which is characterised by a predominance of the attribute of Sattwa, gradually courses through Red and Yellow and at last attains to White. Arrived here, Jiva travels through several regions that are most adorable and that have the Eight well-known regions of felicity beneath them, and all the while pursues that stainless and effulgent form of existence which is Emancipation's self.[1376] Know that the Eight (already referred to and) which are identical with the Sixty (subdivided into) hundreds, are, unto those that are highly effulgent, only creations of the mind (without having any real or independent existence). The highest object of acquisition with one that is White of hue, is that condition (called Turiya) which transcends the three other states of consciousness, viz., Wakefulness and Dream and Dreamless slumber.[1377] As regards that Yogin who is unable to abandon the felicities that Yoga-puissance brings about, he has to dwell (in one and the same body) for one century of Kalpas in auspiciousness and after that in four other regions (called Mahar, Jana, Tapas, and Satya). Even that is the highest end of one belonging to the sixth colour, and who is unsuccessful though crowned with success, and who has transcended all attachments and passions.[1378] That Yogin, again, who falls off from Yoga practices after having attained the measure of eminence described already resides in heaven for a century of Kalpas with the unexhausted remnant of his past acts (to be exhausted by enjoyment or endurance as the case may be), and with the seven (viz., the five senses of knowledge and mind and understanding) purged of all stains in consequence of their predisposition or proneness towards the attribute of Sattwa. At the expiry of that period, such a person has to come to the world of men where he attains to great eminence.[1379] Turning back from the world of men, he departs for attaining to new forms of existence that run higher and higher in the upward scale. While engaged in this, he courseth through seven regions for seven times, his puissance being always increased in consequence of his Samadhi and the re-awakening from it.[1380] The Yogin who is desirous of final Emancipation suppresses by Yoga-knowledge the seven, and continues to dwell in the world of life, freed from attachments; and taking those seven for certain means of grief, he casts them off and attains afterwards to that state which is Indestructible and Infinite. Some say that that is the region of Mahadeva; some, of Vishnu; some, of Brahman; some, of Sesha; some, of Nara; some, of the effulgent Chit; and some, of the All-pervading.[1381] When universal destruction comes, those persons who have succeeded in completely consuming by Knowledge their gross and subtle and karana bodies, always enter into Brahma. All their Senses also which have action for their essence and which are not identical with Brahma, merge into the same. When the time of universal destruction comes, those Jivas who have attained to the position of Devas and who have an unexhausted remnant of the fruits of acts to enjoy or endure, revert to those stages of life in the subsequent Kalpa which had been theirs in the previous one. This is due to the similarity of every successive Kalpa to every previous one. Those again whose acts, at the time of universal destruction, have been exhausted by enjoyment or endurance in respect of their fruits, falling down from heaven, take birth among men, in the subsequent Kalpa, for without Knowledge one cannot destroy one's acts in even a hundred Kalpas. All superior Beings again, endued with similar powers and similar forms, revert to their respective destinies at a new creation after a universal destruction, ascending and descending precisely in the same manner as during the creation that is dissolved.[1382] As regards, again, the person who is conversant with Brahma, as long as he continues to enjoy and endure the unexhausted remnant of his acts of previous Kalpas, it is said that all creatures and the two stainless sciences live in his body. When his Chitta becomes cleansed by Yoga, and when he practises Samyama, this perceptible universe appears to him as only his own fivefold senses.[1383] Enquiring with a cleansed mind, Jiva attains to a high and stainless end. Thence he attains to a spot which knows no deterioration, and thence attains to eternal Brahma that is so difficult of acquisition.[1384] Thus, O thou of great might, I have discoursed to thee of the eminence of Narayana!' "'"Vritra said, 'These words of thine, I see, perfectly according with the truth. Indeed, when this is so, I have no (cause of grief). Having listened to thy words, O thou of great powers of mind, I have become freed from sorrow and sin of every kind. O illustrious Rishi, O holy one, I see this wheel of Time, endued with mighty energy, of the most effulgent and Infinite Vishnu, has been set in motion. Eternal is that station, from which all kinds of creation spring. That Vishnu is the Supreme Soul. He is the foremost of Beings. In Him this entire universe rests.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having said these words, O son of Kunti, Vritra cast off his life-breaths, uniting his soul (in Yoga, with the supreme Soul), and attained to the highest station." "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, whether this Janardana (Krishna) is that illustrious and puissant Lord of whom Sanatkumara spoke unto Vritra in days of old." "'Bhishma said, "The Highest Deity, endued with the six attributes of (puissance, etc.) is at the Root. Staying there, the Supreme Soul, with his own energy, creates all these diverse existent things.[1385] Know that this Kesava who knows no deterioration is from His eighth portion. Endued with the highest Intelligence, it is this Kesava who creates the three worlds with an eighth portion (of His energy). Coming immediately after Him who lies at the Root, this Kesava who is eternal (compared with all other existent things), changes at the end of each Kalpa. He, however, who lies at the Root and who is endued with supreme might and puissance, lies in the waters when universal destruction comes (in the form of the potential Seed of all things). Kesava is that Creator of pure Soul who courseth through all the eternal worlds.[1386] Infinite and Eternal as He is, He fills all space (with emanations from Himself) and courseth through the universe (in the form of everything that constitutes the universe). Freed as He is from limitations of every kind such as the possession of attributes would imply, he suffers himself to be invested with Avidya and awakened to Consciousness, Kesava of Supreme Soul creates all things. In Him rests this wondrous universe in its entirety." "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou that art conversant with the highest object of knowledge, I think that Vritra saw beforehand the excellent end that awaited him. It is for this, O grandsire, that he was happy and did not yield to grief (in view of his coming Death). He who is White of hue, who has taken birth in a pure or stainless race, and who has attained to the rank of a Sadhya, doth not, O sinless one, come back (into the world for re-birth). Such a person, O grandsire, is freed from both hell and the status of all intermediate creatures. He, however, who has attained to either the Yellow or the Red hue, is seen sometimes to be overwhelmed by Tamas and fall among the order of Intermediate creatures. As regards ourselves, we are exceedingly afflicted and attached to objects that are productive of sorrow or indifference or joy. Alas, what will the end be to which we shall attain? Will it be the Blue or the Dark which is the lowest of all hues?" "'Bhishma continued, "Ye are Pandavas. Ye have been born in a stainless race. Ye are of rigid vows. Having sported in joy in the regions of the gods, ye shall come back to the world of men. Living happily as long as the creation lasts, all of you at the next new creation will be admitted among the gods, and enjoying all kinds of felicities ye will at last be numbered among the Siddhas. Let no fear be yours. Be you cheerful."'" SECTION CCLXXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "How great was the love of virtue possessed by Vritra of immeasurable energy, whose knowledge was incomparable and whose devotion to Vishnu was so great. The status occupied by Vishnu of immeasurable energy is exceedingly difficult of apprehension. How, O tiger among kings, could Vritra (who was an Asura) comprehend it (so well)? Thou hast spoken of Vritra's acts. I too have listened to thee in full faith. In consequence, however, of my seeing that one point (in thy discourse) is unintelligible (and that, therefore, it requires explanation), my curiosity has been roused for questioning thee again.[1387] How, indeed, was Vritra, who was virtuous, devoted to Vishnu, endued with knowledge of truth derivable from a just comprehension of the Upanishads and Vedanta, vanquished by Indra, O foremost of men? O chief of the Bharatas, resolve me this doubt. Indeed, tell me, O tiger among kings, how Vritra was vanquished by Sakra![1388] O grandsire, O thou of mighty arms, tell me in detail how the battle took place (between the chief of the deities and the foremost of Asuras). My curiosity to hear it is very great." "'Bhishma said, "In days of yore, Indra, accompanied by the celestial forces, proceeded on his car, and beheld the Asura Vritra stationed before him like a mountain. He was full five hundred Yojanas in height, O chastiser of foes, and three hundred Yojanas in circumference. Beholding that form of Vritra, which was incapable of being vanquished by the three worlds united together, the celestial became penetrated with fear and full of anxiety. Indeed, suddenly seeing that gigantic form of his antagonist, O king, Indra was struck with palsy in the lower extremities. Then, on the eve of that great battle between the deities and the Asuras, there arose loud shouts from both sides, and drums and other musical instruments began to beat and blow. Beholding Sakra stationed before him, O thou of Kuru's race, Vritra felt neither awe nor fear, nor was he disposed to muster all his energies for the fight.[1389] Then the encounter commenced, inspiring the three worlds with terror, between Indra, the chief of the deities, and Vritra of high soul. The entire welkin was enveloped by the combats of both sides with swords and axes and lances and darts and spears and heavy clubs and rocks of diverse sizes and bows of loud twang and diverse kinds of celestial weapons and fires and burning brands. All the celestials with Grandsire at their head, and all the highly-blessed Rishis, came to witness the battle, on their foremost of cars; and the Siddhas also, O bull of Bharata's race, and the Gandharvas, with the Apsaras, on their own beautiful and foremost of cars, came there (for the same purpose). Then Vritra, that foremost of virtuous persons, quickly overwhelmed the welkin and the chief of the deities with a thick shower of rocks. The celestials, at this, filled with rage, dispelled with their showers of arrows that thick downpour of rocks showered by Vritra in battle. Then Vritra, O tiger among the Kurus, possessed of mighty strength and endued with large powers of illusion, stupefied the chief of the deities by fighting wholly with the aid of his powers of illusion. When he of a hundred sacrifices, thus afflicted by Vritra, was overcome by stupefaction, the sage Vasishtha restored him to his senses by uttering Somanas.[1390] "'"Vasishtha said, 'Thou art the foremost of the gods, O chief of the deities, O slayer of Daityas and Asuras! The strength of the three worlds is in thee! Why, then, O Sakra, dost thou languish so! There, Brahman, and Vishnu, and Siva, that lord of the universe, the illustrious and divine Soma, and all the highest Rishis (stand, beholding thee)! Do not, O Sakra, yield to weakness, like an ordinary person! Firmly resolved on battle, slay thy foes, O chief of the celestials! There, that Master of all the worlds, viz., the Three-eyed (Siva), the adored of all the worlds, is eyeing thee! Cast off this stupefaction, O chief of the celestials! There, those regenerate Rishis, headed by Vrihaspati, are praising thee, for thy victory, in celestial hymns.'"[1391] "'Bhishma continued, "While Vasava of great energy was thus being restored to consciousness by the high-souled Vasishtha, his strength became greatly enhanced. The illustrious chastiser of Paka then, relying upon his intelligence, had recourse to high Yoga and with its aid dispelled these illusions of Vritra. Then Vrihaspati, the son of Angiras, and those foremost of Rishis possessed of great prosperity, beholding the prowess of Vritra, repaired to Mahadeva, and impelled by the desire of benefiting the three worlds, urged him to destroy the great Asura. The energy of that illustrious lord of the universe thereupon assumed the character of a fierce fever and penetrated the body of Vritra the lord of Asuras.[1392] The illustrious and divine Vishnu, adored of all the worlds, bent upon protecting the universe, entered the thunderbolt of Indra. Then Vrihaspati of great intelligence and Vasishtha of exceeding energy, and all the other foremost of Rishis, repairing to Him of a hundred sacrifices, viz., the boon-giving Vasava, the adored of all the worlds, addressed him, saying, 'Slay Vritra, O puissant one, without delay!' "'"Maheswara said, 'Yonder, O Sakra, stands the great Vritra, accompanied by a great force. He is the soul of the universe, capable of going everywhere, endued with large powers of illusion, and possessed of great celebrity. This foremost of Asuras is, therefore, incapable of being vanquished by even the three worlds united together. Aided by Yoga, do thou slay him, O chief of the deities. Do not disregard him. For full sixty thousand years, O chief of the celestials, Vritra practised the severest penances for obtaining strength. Brahman gave him the boons he had solicited, viz., the greatness that belongs to Yogins, large powers of illusion, excess of might, and superabundant energy. I impart to thee my energy, O Vasava! The Danava has now lost his coolness. Do thou, therefore, slay him now with thy thunderbolt!' "'"Sakra said, 'Before thy eyes, O foremost of gods, I shall, through thy grace, slay with my thunderbolt this invincible son of Diti.'" "'Bhishma continued, "When the great Asura or Daitya was overtaken by that fever (born of Mahadeva's energy), the deities and the Rishis, filled with joy, uttered loud cheers. At the same time drums, and conchs of loud blare, and kettle drums and tabors began to beat and blow by thousands. Suddenly all the Asuras became afflicted with the loss of memory. In a trice, their powers of illusion also disappeared. The Rishis and the deities, ascertaining the foe to be thus possessed, uttered the praises of both Sakra and Isana, and began to urge the former (to make no delay in destroying Vritra). The form that Indra assumed on the eve of the encounter, while seated on his car and while his praises were being hymned by the Rishis, became such that none could look at it without awe."'"[1393] SECTION CCLXXXII "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, to me as I tell thee the symptoms that appeared on the body of Vritra when he was overtaken by that fever (born of the energy of Mahadeva). The heroic Asura's mouth began to emit flames of fire. He became exceedingly pale. His body began to tremble all over. His breath became hard and thick. His hairs stood on end. His memory, O Bharata, issued out of his mouth in the form of a fierce, dreadful, and inauspicious jackal. Burning and blazing meteors fell on his right and left. Vultures and Kanakas and cranes, gathering together, uttered fierce cries, as they wheeled over Vritra's head. Then, in that encounter, Indra, adored by the gods, and armed with the thunderbolt, looked hard at the Daitya as the latter sat on his car. Possessed by that violent fever, the mighty Asura, O monarch, yawned and uttered inhuman cries.[1394] While the Asura was yawning Indra hurled his thunderbolt at him. Endued with exceedingly great energy and resembling the fire that destroys the creation at the end of the Yuga, that thunderbolt overthrew in a trice Vritra of gigantic form. Loud shouts were once more uttered by the gods on all sides when they beheld Vritra slain, O bull of Bharata's race! Having slain Vritra, Maghavat, that foe of the Danavas, possessed of great fame, entered heaven with that thunderbolt pervaded by Vishnu. Just then, O thou of Kuru's race, the sin of Brahmanicide (in her embodied form), fierce and awful and inspiring all the worlds with dread, issued out of the body of the slain Vritra. Of terrible teeth and awful, hideous for ugliness, and dark and tawny, with hair dishevelled, and dreadful eyes, O Bharata, with a garland of skulls round her neck, and looking like an (Atharvan) Incantation (in its embodied form), O bull of Bharata's race, covered all over with blood, and clad in rags and barks of trees, O thou of righteous soul, she came out of Vritra's body. Of such dreadful form and mien, O monarch, she sought the wielder of the thunderbolt (for possessing him). A little while after, O thou of Kuru's race, the slayer of Vritra, on some purpose connected with the good of the three worlds, was proceeding towards heaven. Beholding Indra of great energy thus proceeding on his mission, she seized the chief of the deities and from that moment stuck to him.[1395] When the sin of Brahmanicide thus stuck to his person and inspired him with terror, Indra entered the fibres of a lotus-stalk and dwelt there for many long years. But the sin of Brahmanicide pursued him closely. Indeed, O son of Kuru, seized by her, Indra became deprived of all his energies. He made great efforts for driving her from him, but all those efforts proved abortive. Seized by her, O bull of Bharata's race, the chief of the deities at last presented himself before the Grandsire and worshipped him by bending his head low. Understanding that Sakra was possessed by the sin of Brahmanicide,[1396] Brahman began to reflect, O best of the Bharatas, (upon the means of freeing his suppliant). The grandsire at last, O thou of mighty arms, addressed Brahmanicide in a sweet voice as if from the desire of pacifying her, and said, 'O amiable one, let the chief of the celestials, who is a favourite of mine, be freed from thee. Tell me, what I shall do for thee. What wish of thine shall I accomplish?' "'"Brahmanicide said, 'When the Creator of the three worlds, when the illustrious god adored by the universe, hath been pleased with me, I regard my wishes as already accomplished. Let my residence be now appointed. Desirous of preserving the worlds, this rule had been made by thee. It was thou, O lord, that didst introduced this important ordinance.[1397] As thou hast been gratified with me, O righteous Lord, O puissant Master of all the worlds, I shall certainly leave Sakra! But grant me an abode to dwell in.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The Grandsire replied unto Brahmanicide, saying, 'So be it!' Indeed, the Grandsire discovered means for dispelling Brahmanicide from the person of Indra. The Self-create recollected the high-souled Agni. The latter immediately presented himself to Brahman and said these words, 'O illustrious and divine Lord, O thou that are without any defect, I have appeared before thee. It behoveth thee to say what I shall have to accomplish.' "'"Brahman said, 'I shall divide this sin of Brahmanicide into several portions. For freeing Sakra from her, do thou take a fourth portion of that sin.' "'"Agni said, 'How shall I be rescued from her, O Brahman? O puissant Lord, do thou appoint the way. I desire to know the means (of my own rescue) in detail, O adored of all the worlds!' "'"Brahman said, 'Unto that man who, overwhelmed by the quality of Tamas, will abstain from offering thee as an oblation, when he beholds thee in thy blazing form, seeds, herbs, and juices, that portion of Brahmanicide which thou wilt take upon thyself shall immediately enter, and leaving thee shall dwell in him. O carrier of oblations, let the fever of thy heart be dispelled.'" "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed by the Grandsire the eater of oblations and sacrificial offerings accepted his command. A fourth of that sin then entered his person, O king! The Grandsire then summoned the trees, the herbs, and all kinds of grass to him, and solicited them to take upon themselves a fourth of that sin. Addressed by him, the trees and herbs and grasses became as much agitated as Agni had been at the request, and they replied unto Grandsire, saying, 'How shall we, O Grandsire of all the worlds, be ourselves rescued from this sin? It behoveth thee not to afflict us that have already been afflicted by the fates. O god, we have always to endure heat and cold and the showers (of the clouds) driven by the winds, in addition to the cutting and the tearing (that we have to suffer at the hands of men). We are willing, O Lord of the three worlds, to take at thy command (a portion of) this sin of Brahmanicide. Let the means, however, of our rescue be pointed out to us.' "'"Brahman said, 'This sin that you shall take shall possess the man who through stupefaction of judgment will cut or tear any of you when Parva days come.'" "'Bhishma said, "Thus addressed by the high-souled Brahman, the trees and herbs and grasses adored the Creator and then went away without tarrying there. The Grandsire of all the worlds then summoned the Apsaras and gratifying them with sweet words, O Bharata, said, 'This foremost of ladies, viz., Brahmanicide, has come out of Indra's person. Solicited by me, do you take a fourth portion of her into your own persons (for saving the Chief of the deities).' "'"The Apsaras said, 'O Lord of all the gods, at thy command we are fully willing to take a portion of this sin. But, O Grandsire, do thou think of the means by which we ourselves may be freed from (the effects of) this understanding (that we make with thee).' "'"Brahman said, 'Let the fever of your hearts be dispelled. The portion of this sin that you will take upon yourselves shall leave you for instantly possessing that man who will seek congress with women in their menstrual season!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by the Grandsire, O bull of Bharata's race, the diverse tribes of the Apsaras, with cheerful souls, repaired to their respective places and began to sport in delight. The illustrious Creator of the three worlds, endued with great ascetic merit, then recollected the Waters which immediately came to him. Arrived at the presence of Brahman of immeasurable energy, the Waters bowed unto him and said these words, 'We have come before thee, O chastiser of foes, at thy command. O puissant Master of all the worlds, tell us what we are to accomplish.' "'"Brahman said, 'This dreadful sin hath taken possession of Indra, in consequence of his having slain Vritra. Take ye a fourth part of Brahmanicide.' "'"The Waters said, 'Let it be as thou commandest, O master of all the worlds. It behoveth thee, however, O puissant Lord of ours, to think of the means by which we may (in our turn) be rescued from (the consequence of) this understanding. Thou art the Lord of all the deities, and the supreme refuge of the universe. Who else is there to whom we may pay our adorations so that he may relieve us from distress.' "'"Brahman said, 'Unto that man who stupefied by his understanding and regarding you lightly will cast into you phlegm and urine and excreta, this one shall immediately go and thenceforth reside in him. It is in this way, verily I say unto ye, that your rescue shall be accomplished.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Then the sin of Brahmanicide, O Yudhishthira, leaving the chief of the deities, proceeded to the abodes that were ordained for her at the Grandsire's command. It was thus, O ruler of men, that Indra had become afflicted by that dreadful sin (and it was thus that he got rid of her). With the Grandsire's permission Indra then resolved to perform a Horse-sacrifice. It is heard, O monarch, that Indra having been thus possessed by the sin of Brahmanicide afterwards became cleansed of her through that Sacrifice. Regaining his prosperity and slaying thousands of foes, great was the joy that Vasava obtained, O lord of Earth! From the blood of Vritra, O son of Pritha, were born high-crested cocks. For this reason, those fowls are unclean (as food) for the regenerate classes, and those ascetics that have undergone the rite of initiation. Under all circumstances, O king, do thou accomplish what is agreeable to the twice-born, for these, O monarch, are known as gods on earth. It was in this way, O thou of Kuru's race, that the mighty Asura Vritra was slain by Sakra of immeasurable energy by the aid of subtle intelligence and through the application of means. Thou also, O son of Kunti, unvanquished on earth, wilt become another Indra and the slayer of all thy foes. Those men who, on every Parva day, will recite this sacred narrative of Vritra in the midst of Brahmanas shall never be stained by any sin. I have now recited to thee one of the greatest and most wonderful feats of Indra connected with Vritra. What else dost thou wish to hear?"'" SECTION CCLXXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, thou art possessed of great wisdom and thoroughly conversant with every branch of learning. From this very narrative of the slaughter of Vritra the wish has arisen in my mind of asking thee a question. Thou hast said, O ruler of men, that Vritra was (first) stupefied by Fever, and that then, O sinless one, he was slain by Vasava with the thunderbolt. How did this Fever, O thou of great wisdom, arise? O lord, I desire to hear in detail of the origin of Fever." "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, to the origin, celebrated over all the world, of Fever. I shall speak in detail on this topic, fully explaining how Fever first sprang into existence, O Bharata! In days of yore, O monarch, there was a summit, named Savitri, of the mountains of Meru. Worshipped by all the worlds, it was endued with great splendour and adorned with every kind of jewels and gems. That summit was immeasurable in extent and thither no one could go.[1398] On that mountain summit the divine Mahadeva used to sit in splendour as if on a bed-stead adorned with gold. The daughter of the king of mountains, sitting by his side, shone in brilliance.[1399] The high-souled deities, the Vasus of immeasurable energy, the high-souled Aswins, those foremost of physicians, and king Vaisravana waited upon by many a Guhyaka,--that lord of the Yakshas, endued with prosperity and puissance, and having his abode on the summit of Kailasa,--all waited upon the highsouled Mahadeva. And the great sage Usanas, and the foremost of Rishis having Sanatkumara for their first, and the other celestial Rishis headed by Angiras, and the Gandharva Viswavasu, and Narada and Parvata, and the diverse tribes of Apsaras, all came there to wait upon the Master of the universe. A pure and auspicious breeze, bearing diverse kinds of perfumes, blew there. The trees that stood there were adorned with the flowers of every season. A large number of Vidyadharas and Siddhas and ascetics too, O Bharata, repaired thither for waiting upon Mahadeva, the Lord of all creatures. Many ghostly beings, also, of diverse forms and aspects, and many dreadful Rakshasas and mighty Pisachas, of diverse aspects, mad with joy, and armed with diverse kinds of uplifted weapons, forming the train of Mahadeva, were there, every one of whom resembled a blazing fire in energy. The illustrious Nandi stood there at the command of the great god, blazing with his own energy and armed with a lance that resembled a flame of fire. Ganga also, that foremost of all Rivers and born of all sacred waters in the universe, waited there in her embodied form, O son of Kuru's race, upon that illustrious deity. Thus adored by the celestial Rishis and the gods, the illustrious Mahadeva of immeasurable energy dwelt on that summit of Meru. "'"After some time had passed away, the Prajapati Daksha[1400] commenced to perform a Sacrifice according to the ancient rites (laid down in the Vedas). Unto the Sacrifice of Daksha, all the deities headed by Sakra, assembling together, resolved to repair. It hath been heard by us that the high-souled deities, with the permission of Mahadeva, mounted their celestial cars resembling the fire or the Sun in splendour, and proceeded to that spot (on the Himavat) whence the Ganges is said to issue. Beholding the deities depart, the excellent daughter of the king of mountains, addressed her divine spouse, viz., the Lord of all creatures, and said, 'O illustrious one, whither are those deities headed by Sakra going? O thou that art conversant with the truth, tell me truly, for a great doubt has filled my mind.' "'"Maheswara said, 'O lady that art highly blessed, the excellent Prajapati Daksha is adoring the gods in a Horse-sacrifice. These denizens of heaven are proceeding even thither.' "'"Uma said, 'Why, O Mahadeva, dost thou not proceed to that Sacrifice? What objection is there of thy going to that place?' "'"Maheswara said, 'O highly blessed lady, the deities in days of yore made an arrangement in consequence of which no share was assigned to me of offerings in all Sacrifices. Agreeably to the course that was sanctioned in consequence of that arrangement, O thou of the fairest complexion, the deities do not give me, following the old custom, any share of the sacrificial offerings.' "'"Uma said, O illustrious one, among all beings thou art the foremost in puissance. In merit, in energy, in fame, and in prosperity, thou yieldest to none, and thou art, indeed, superior to all. In consequence, however, of this disability in respect of a share (in the Sacrificial offerings) I am filled with great grief, O sinless one, and a tremor overtakes me from head to foot.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The goddess (Parvati), having said these words unto her divine spouse, the Lord of all creatures, O monarch, remained silent, her heart burning the while in grief. Then Mahadeva, understanding what was in her heart and what her thoughts were (for wiping off that disgrace), addressed Nandi, saying, 'Wait here (by the goddess).' Summoning all his Yoga force, that Lord of all lords of Yoga, that god of gods, that wielder of Pinaka, possessed of mighty energy, quickly proceeded to the place (where Daksha was sacrificing) accompanied by all his terrible followers and destroyed that Sacrifice. Amongst these followers of his, some uttered loud cries, and some laughed terribly, and some, O king, extinguished the (Sacrificial) fires with blood; and some, possessed of awful faces, pulling up the sacrificial stakes, began to whirl them. Others began to devour those that were ministering to the Sacrifice. Then that sacrifice, thus afflicted on every side, assumed the form of a deer and sought to fly away through the skies. Ascertaining that the Sacrifice was running away in that form, the puissant Mahadeva began to pursue him with bow and arrow. In consequence of the wrath that then filled the heart of that foremost of all gods, possessed of immeasurable energy, a dreadful drop of sweat appeared on his forehead. When that drop of sweat fell down on the earth, there forthwith appeared a blazing fire resembling the (all-destructive) conflagration that appears at the end of a Yuga. From that fire issued a dreadful being, O monarch, of very short stature, possessed of blood-red eyes and a green beard. His body was covered entirely with hair like a hawk's or an owl's and his hair stood erect. Of dreadful aspect, his complexion was dark and his attire blood-red. Like a fire burning a heap of dry grass or straw, that Being of great energy quickly consumed the embodied form of Sacrifice. Having accomplished that feat, he then rushed towards the deities and the Rishis that had assembled there. The deities, filled with fear, fled in all directions. In consequence of that Being's tread, the earth, O monarch began to tremble.[1401] Exclamations of Oh and Alas arose throughout the universe. Marking this, the puissant Grandsire, showing himself unto Mahadeva, addressed him in the following words. "'"Brahman said, 'O puissant one, the deities will henceforth yield thee a share of the sacrificial offerings! O Lord of all the deities, let this wrath of thine be withdrawn by thee! O scorcher of foes, there, those gods, and the Rishis, in consequence of thy wrath, O Mahadeva, have become exceedingly agitated. This Being also, that hath sprung from thy sweat, O foremost of gods, shall wander among creatures, O righteous-souled one, under the name of Fever. O puissant one, if the energy of this Being remains all collected together, then the entire earth herself will not be able to bear him. Let him, therefore, be distributed into many parts.' When Brahman had said these words, and when his proper share was appointed of the sacrificial offerings, Mahadeva replied unto the Grandsire of great energy, saying, 'So be it.' Indeed, the wielder of Pinaka, viz., Bhava, smiled a little and became filled with joy. And he accepted the share that the Grandsire appointed of the offerings in sacrifices. Conversant with the properties of everything, Mahadeva then distributed Fever into many portions, for the peace of all creatures. Listen, O son, as to how he did this. The heat that is perceptible in the heads of elephants, the bitumen of mountains,[1402] the moss that floats on water, the slough of snakes, the sores that appear in the hoofs of bulls, the sterile tracts of earth that are full of saline matter, the dullness of vision of all animals, the diseases that appear in the throats of horses, the crests appearing on the heads of peacocks, the eye-disease of the koel,[1403] each of these was named Fever by the high-souled Mahadeva. This is what has been heard by us. The liver-disease also of sheep, and the hiccup of parrots are also each known as forms of Fever. To this must be added the toil that tigers undergo, for that also, O righteous king, is known as a form of Fever. Besides these, O Bharata, amongst men, Fever enters all bodies at the time of birth, of death, and on other occasions. This then that is called Fever is known to be the dreadful energy of Maheswara. He is endued with authority over all creatures and should, therefore, be held in respect and worshipped by all. It was by him that Vritra, that foremost of virtuous persons, was overtaken when he yawned. It was then that Sakra hurled his thunderbolt at him. Thunderbolt, penetrating the body of Vritra, O Bharata, divided him in twain. Divided in twain by the thunderbolt, the mighty Asura possessed of great Yoga powers, proceeded to the region of Vishnu of immeasurable energy. It was in consequence of his devotion to Vishnu that he had succeeded in overwhelming the whole universe. And it was in consequence of his devotion to Vishnu that he ascended, when slain, to the region of Vishnu. Thus, O son, adverting to the story of Vritra have I recited to thee the narrative in detail of Fever. Upon what else shall I speak to thee? That man who will read this account of the origin of Fever with close attention and cheerful heart shall become free from disease and shall always have happiness for his share. Filled with gladness, he shall have all the wishes accomplished upon which he may set his heart."'" SECTION CCLXXXIV "Janamejaya said, 'How O Brahmana, was the Horse-sacrifice of the Prajapati Daksha, the son of Prachetas, destroyed during the age of Vaivaswata Manu? Understanding that the goddess Uma had become filled with rage and grief, the puissant Mahadeva, who is the soul of all things, gave way to wrath. How, again, through his grace, was Daksha enabled to reunite the divided limbs of that Sacrifice? I desire to know all this. Tell me all this, O Brahmana, truly as it occurred.' "Vaisampayana said, 'In days of yore Daksha made arrangements for performing a Sacrifice on the breast of Himavat in that sacred region inhabited by Rishis and Siddhas where the Ganges issues out of the mountains. Overgrown with trees and creepers of diverse kinds that spot abounded with Gandharvas and Apsaras. Surrounded by crowds of Rishis, Daksha, that foremost of virtuous men, that progenitor of creatures, was waited upon by the denizens of the earth, the firmament, and the heavens, with their hands joined together in reverence. The gods, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Pisachas, the Snakes, the Rakshasas, the two Gandharvas named Haha and Huhu, Tumvuru and Narada, Viswavasu, Viswasena, the Gandharvas and the Apsaras, the Adityas, the Vasus, the Rudras, the Sadhyas, the Maruts, all came there with Indra for sharing in the Sacrifice. The drinkers of Soma, the drinkers of smoke, the drinkers of Ajya, the Rishis, and the Pitris came there with the Brahmanas. These, and many other living creatures belonging to the four orders, viz., viviparous and oviparous and filth-born and vegetable, were invited to that Sacrifice. The gods also, with their spouses, respectfully invited thereto, came on their celestial cars and seated thereon shone like blazing fires. Beholding them, the Rishi Dadhichi became filled with grief and wrath, and said, "This is neither a Sacrifice nor a meritorious rite of religion, since Rudra is not adored in it. Ye are certainly exposing yourselves to death and chains. Alas, how untoward is the course of time. Stupefied by error you do not behold that destruction awaits you. A terrible calamity stands at your door in course of this great Sacrifice. Ye are blind to it!" Having said these words, that great Yogin saw into the future with eyes of (Yoga) contemplation. He beheld Mahadeva, and his divine spouse, viz., that giver of excellent boons (seated on the summit of Kailasa) with the highsouled Narada sitting beside the goddess. Conversant with Yoga, Dadhichi became highly gratified, having ascertained what was about to happen. All the deities and others that had come there were of one mind with reference to the omission to invite the Lord of all creatures. Dadhichi alone, desirous of leaving that spot, then said, "By worshipping one who should not be worshipped, and by refusing to worship him who should be worshipped, a man incurs the sin of homicide for ever. I have never before spoken an untruth, and an untruth I shall never speak. Here in the midst of the gods and the Rishis I say the truth. The Protector of all creatures, the Creator of the universe, the Lord of all, the Puissant master, the taker of sacrificial offerings, will soon come to this Sacrifice and you all shall see him." "'Daksha said, "We have many Rudras armed with lances and bearing matted locks on their heads. They are eleven in number. I know them all, but I do not know who this (new Rudra) Maheswara is." "'Dadhichi said, "This seems to be the counsel of all that are here, viz., that Maheswara should not be invited. As, however, I do not behold any god that can be said to be superior to him, I am sure that this proposed Sacrifice of Daksha will certainly be overtaken by destruction." "'Daksha said, "Here, in this vessel of gold, intended for the Lord of all Sacrifices, is the sacrificial offering sanctified by mantras and (rites) according to the ordinance. I intend to make this offering unto Vishnu who is beyond compare. He is puissant and the Master of all, and unto Him should sacrifices be performed."' "'Meanwhile,' continued Vaisampayana, 'the goddess Uma, sitting with her lord, said these words.' "'Uma said, "What are those gifts, what those vows, and what are those penances, that I should make or undergo by means of which my illustrious husband may be able to obtain a half or a third share of the offerings in sacrifices." Unto his wife who was agitated with grief and who repeated these words the illustrious Mahadeva said with a joyous countenance, "Thou dost not know me, O goddess! Thou knowest not, O thou of delicate limbs and low belly, what words are proper to be addressed to the Lord of Sacrifices. O lady of large eyes, I know that it is only the sinful, who are bereft of contemplation, that do not understand me.[1404] It is through thy power of illusion that the deities with Indra at their head and the three worlds all become stupefied.[1405] It is to me that the chanters utter their praises in Sacrifices. It is to me that the Saman-singers sing their Rathantaras. It is to me that Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas perform their Sacrifices. And it is to me that the Adhvaryus dedicate the shares of sacrificial offerings." "'The goddess said, "Persons of even ordinary abilities applaud themselves and indulge in the presence of their spouses. There is no doubt in this." "'The holy one said, "O Queen of all the gods, I do not certainly applaud my ownself. Behold now, O lady of slender waist, what I do. Behold the Being that I will create, O thou of the fairest complexion, for (destroying) this Sacrifice (that has displeased thee), O my beautiful spouse." "'Having said these words unto his spouse Uma who was dearer to him than his own life, the puissant Mahadeva created from his mouth a terrible Being whose very sight could make one's hair stand on its end. The blazing flames that emanated from his body rendered him exceedingly awful to behold. His arms were many in number and in each was a weapon that struck the beholder with fear. That Being, thus created, stood before the great god, with joined hands, and said, "What commands shall I have to accomplish?" Maheswara answered him, saying, "Go and destroy the Sacrifice of Daksha." Thus ordered, that Being of leonine prowess who had issued from the mouth of Mahadeva, desired to destroy the Sacrifice of Daksha, without putting forth all his energy and without the assistance of any one else, for dispelling the wrath of Uma. Urged by her wrath, the spouse of Maheswara, herself assuming a dreadful form that is known by the name Mahakali, proceeded in the company of that Being who had issued from Mahadeva's mouth, for witnessing with her own eyes the act of destruction which was her own (for it was she who had impelled her lord to accomplish it for her sake). That mighty Being then set out, having obtained the permission of Mahadeva and having bowed his head unto him. In energy, strength, and form, he resembled Maheswara himself who had created him. Indeed, he was the living embodiment of (Mahadeva's) wrath. Of immeasurable might and energy, and of immeasurable courage and prowess, he came to be called by the name of Virabhadra--that dispeller of the goddess's wrath. He then created from the pores of his body a large number of spirit chiefs known by the name of Raumyas. Those fierce bands of spirits, endued with terrible energy and prowess and resembling Rudra himself on that account, rushed with the force of thunder to that place where Daksha was making preparations for his sacrifice, impelled by the desire of destroying it. Possessed of dreadful and gigantic forms, they numbered by hundreds and thousands. They filled the sky with their confused cries and shrieks. That noise filled the denizens of heaven with fear. The very mountains were riven and the earth trembled. Whirl winds began to blow. The Ocean rose in a surge. The fires that were kindled refused to blaze up. The Sun became dimmed. The planets, the stars, and constellations, and the moon, no longer shone. The Rishis, the gods, and human beings, looked pale. A universal darkness spread over earth and sky. The insulted Rudras began to set fire to everything. Some amongst them of terrible form began to smite and strike. Some tore up the sacrificial stakes. Some began to grind and others to crush. Endued with the speed of wind or thought, some began to rush close and far. Some began to break the sacrificial vessels and the celestial ornaments. The scattered fragments strewed the ground like stars bespangling the firmament. Heaps of excellent viands, of bottles of drink, and of eatables there were that looked like mountains. Rivers of milk ran on every side, with clarified butter and Payasa for their mire, creamy curds for their water, and crystalised sugar for their sands. Those rivers contained all the six tastes. There were lakes of treacle that looked very beautiful. Meat of diverse kinds, of the best quality, and other eatables of various sorts, and many excellent varieties of drink, and several other kinds of food that might be licked and sucked, began to be eaten by that army of spirits with diverse mouths. And they began to cast off and scatter those varieties of food in all directions. In consequence of Rudra's wrath, every one of those gigantic Beings looked like the all-destructive Yuga-fire. Agitating the celestial troops they caused them to tremble with fear and fly away in all directions. Those fierce spirits sported with one another, and seizing the celestial damsels shoved and hurled them on all sides. Of fierce deeds, those Beings, impelled by Rudra's wrath, very soon burnt that Sacrifice although it was protected with great care by all the deities. Loud were the roars they uttered which struck every living creature with dread. Having torn off the head of Sacrifice they indulged in glee and shouts. Then the gods headed by Brahman, and that progenitor of creatures, viz., Daksha, joining their hands in reverence, addressed that mighty Being, saying, "Tell us, who thou art." "'Virabhadra said, "I am neither Rudra nor his spouse, the goddess Uma. Nor have I come here for partaking of the fare (provided in this Sacrifice). Knowing the fact of Uma's wrath, the puissant Lord who is the soul of all creatures has given way to wrath. I have not come here for seeing these foremost of Brahmanas. I have not come here urged by curiosity. Know that I have come here for destroying this Sacrifice of yours. I am known by the name of Virabhadra and I have sprung from the wrath of Rudra. This lady (who is my companion), and who is called Bhadrakali, hath sprung from the wrath of the goddess. We have both been despatched by that god of gods, and we have accordingly come here. O foremost of Brahmanas, seek the protection of that Lord of the deities, the spouse of Uma. It is preferable to incur even the wrath of that foremost of gods than to obtain boons from any other Deity." Hearing the words of Virabhadra, Daksha, that foremost of all righteous persons, bowed down unto Maheswara and sought to gratify him by uttering the following hymn, "I throw myself at the feet of the effulgent Isana, who is Eternal, Immutable, and Indestructible; who is the foremost of all gods, who is endued with high soul, who is the Lord of all the universe." [Here follow five and half slokas which appear to be interpolations]. His praises having thus been hymned, the great god, Mahadeva, suspending both Prana and Apana (the two foremost of the five life-breaths) by shutting his mouth properly, and casting (benignant) glances on every side, showed himself there. Possessed of many eyes, that vanquisher of all foes, that Lord of even the gods of all gods, suddenly arose from within the pit in which was kept the sacrificial fire. Possessed of the effulgence of a thousand Suns, and looking like another Samvartaka, the great god smiled gently (at Daksha) and addressing him, said, "What, O Brahmana, shall I do for you?" At this juncture, the preceptor of all the deities adored Mahadeva with the Vedic verses contained in the Moksha sections. Then that progenitor of all creatures, viz., Daksha, joining his hands in reverence, filled with dread and fear, exceedingly agitated, and with face and eyes bathed in tears, addressed the great god in the following words. "'Daksha said, "If the great god has been gratified with me,--if indeed, I have become an object of favour with him,--if I have deserved his kindness,--if the great Lord of all creatures is disposed to grant me boons,--then let all these articles of mine that have been burnt, eaten, drunk, swallowed, destroyed, broken, and polluted,--let all these articles, collected in course of these articles be of use to me. Even this is the boon I crave. Unto him the many long years, and with great care and effort, go not for nothing. Let these articles be of use to me! Even this is the boon I crave!"--Unto him the illustrious Hara, the tearer of Bhaga's eyes, said, "Let it be as thou sayest!" Even these were the words of that illustrious progenitor of all creatures, that god of three eyes, that protector of righteousness.[1406] Having obtained that boon from Bhava, Daksha knelt down to him and adored that deity having the bull for his mark, by uttering his thousand and eight names.'" SECTION CCLXXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth thee, O sire, to tell me those names by which Daksha, that progenitor of creatures, adored the great deity. O sinless one, a reverent curiosity impels me to hear them." "'Bhishma said, "Hear, O Bharata, what the names, both secret and proclaimed, are of that god of gods, that deity of extraordinary feats, that ascetic of secret vows. "'"Daksha said, 'I bow to thee, O lord of all the gods to the destroyer of the forces of the Asuras. Thou art the paralyser of the strength of the celestial chief himself. Thou art adored by both gods and Danavas. Thou art thousand-eyed, thou art fierce-eyed, and thou art three-eyed. Thou art the friend of the ruler of the Yakshas. Thy hands and feet extend in all directions to all places. Thy eyes also and head and mouth are turned on all sides. Thy ears too are everywhere in the universe, and thou art thyself everywhere, O Lord! Thou art shaft-eared, thou art large-eared, and thou art pot-eared. Thou art the receptacle of the Ocean. Thy ears are like those of the elephant, or of the bull, or like extended palms. Salutations to thee! Thou hast a hundred stomachs, a hundred revolutions, and a hundred tongues. I bow to thee! The utterers of the Gayatri sing thy praises in uttering the Gayatri, and the worshippers of the Sun adore thee in adoring the Sun. The Rishis regard thee as Brahmana, as Indra, and as the (illimitable) firmament above. O thou of mighty form, the Ocean and the Sky are thy two forms. All the deities dwell in thy form even as kine dwell within the fold. In thy body I behold Soma, and Agni, and the lord of the Waters, and Aditya, and Vishnu, and Brahmana, and Vrihaspati. Thou, O illustrious one, art Cause and Effect and Action and Instrument of everything unreal and real, and thou art Creation and Destruction. I bow unto thee that art called Bhava and Sarva and Rudra. I bow unto thee that art the giver of boons. I bow always unto thee that art the Lord of all creatures. Salutations to thee that art the slayer of Andhaka. Salutations to thee that hast three matted locks, to thee that hast three heads, to thee that art armed with an excellent trident; to thee that hast three eyes and that art, therefore, called Tryamvaka and Trinetra! Salutations to thee that art the destroyer of the triple city! Salutations to thee that art called Chanda, and Kunda; to thee that art the (universal) egg and also the bearer of the (universal) egg; to thee that art the holder of the ascetic's stick, to thee that hast ears everywhere, and to thee that art called Dandimunda! Salutations to thee whose teeth and hair are turned upwards, to thee that art stainless and white, and that art stretched all over the universe; to thee that art red, to thee that art tawny, and to thee that hast a blue throat! Salutations to thee that art of incomparable form, that art of dreadful form, and that art highly auspicious! To thee that art Surya, that hast a garland of Suryas round thy neck, and that hast standards and flags bearing the device of Surya. Salutations to thee that art the Lord of spirits and ghosts, to thee that art bull-necked, and that art armed with the bow; to thee that crushest all foes, to thee that art the personification of chastisement, and to thee that art clad in leaves (of trees) and rags. Salutations to thee that bearest gold in thy stomach, to thee that art cased in golden mail, to thee that art gold-crested, to thee that art the lord of all the gold in the world! Salutations to thee that hast been adored, that deservest to be adored, and that art still being adored; to thee that art all things, that devourest all things, and that art the soul of all things! Salutations to thee that art the Hotri (in sacrifices), that art the (Vedic) mantras uttered (in sacrifices), and that ownest white flags and standards. Salutations to thee that art the navel of the universe, that art both cause and effect in the form of the five primal elements, and that art the coverer of all covers. Salutations to thee that art called Krisanasa, that art of thin limbs, and that art thin. Salutations to thee that art always cheerful and that art the personification of confused sounds and voices. Salutations to thee that art about to be stretched on the earth, that art already stretched, and that standing upright. Salutations to thee that art fixed, that art running, that art bald, and that bearest matted locks on thy head. Salutation to thee that art fond of dancing and that strikest thy puffed cheeks making thy mouth a drum.[1407] Salutations to thee that art fond of lotuses that blow in rivers, and that art always fond of singing and playing on musical instruments. Salutations to thee that art the eldest-born, that art the foremost of all creatures, and that art the crusher of the Asura Vala. Salutations to thee that art the Master of Time, that art the personification of Kalpa; that art the embodiment of all kinds of destruction, great and small. Salutations to thee that laughest awfully and as loud as the beat of a drum, and that observest dreadful vows! Salutations for ever to thee that art fierce, and that hast ten arms. Salutations to thee that art armed with bones and that art fond of the ashes of funeral pyres. Salutations to thee that art awful, that art terrible to behold, and that art an observer of dreadful vows and practices. Salutations to thee that ownest an ugly mouth, that hast a tongue resembling a scimitar, and that hast large teeth. Salutations to thee that art fond of both cooked and uncooked meat, and that regardest the gourded Vina as highly dear. Salutations to thee that causest rain, that helpest the cause of righteousness, that art identifiable with the form of Nandi, and that art Righteousness' self! Salutations to thee that art ever moving like wind and the other forces, that the controller of all things, and that art always engaged in cooking all creatures (in the cauldron of Time).[1408] Salutations to thee that art the foremost of all creatures, that art superior, and that art the giver of boons. Salutations to thee that hast the best of garlands, the best of scents, and the best of robes, and that givest the best of boons to the best of creatures. Salutations to thee that art attached, that art freed from all attachments, that art of the form of Yoga contemplation, and that art adorned with a garland of Akshas. Salutations to thee that art united as cause and disunited as effects, and that art the form of shadow and of light. Salutations to thee that art amiable, and that art frightful, and that art exceedingly so. Salutations to thee that art auspicious, that art tranquil, and that art most tranquil. Salutations to thee that art of one leg and many eyes, and that hast only one head; to thee that art fierce, to thee that art gratified with little offerings, and thee that art fond of equity. Salutations to thee that art the artificer of the universe, and that art ever united with the attribute of tranquillity. Salutations to thee that bearest a foe-frightening bell, that art of the form of the jingle made by a bell, and that art of the form of sound when it is not perceptible by the ear.[1409] Salutations to thee that art like a thousand bells jingled together, and that art fond of a garland of bells, that art like the sound that the life-breaths make, that art of the form of all scents and of the confused noise of boiling liquids. Salutations to thee that art beyond three Huns, and that art fond of two Huns. Salutations to thee that art exceedingly tranquil, and that hast the shade of mountain trees for thy habitation.[1410] Thou art fond of the heart-flesh of all creatures, that cleansest from all sins, and that art of the form of sacrificial offerings. Salutations to thee that art of the form of Sacrifice, that art the Sacrificer himself, that art the Brahmana into whose mouth is poured the sacrificial butter, and that art the fire into which is poured the butter inspired with mantras.[1411] Salutations to thee that art of the form of (sacrificial) Ritwijes, that hast thy senses under control, that art made of Sattwa, and that hast Rajas also in thy make. Salutations to thee that art of the banks of Rivers, of Rivers themselves, and of the lord of all Rivers (viz., the Ocean)! Salutations to thee that art the giver of food, that art the lord of all food, and that art identical with him that takes food! Salutations to thee that hast a thousand heads and a thousand feet, to thee that hast a thousand tridents uplifted in thy hands, and a thousand eyes! Salutations to thee that art of the form of the rising Sun, and that art of the form of a child, that art the protector of attendants all of whom are of the form of children,[1412] and that art, besides, of the form of children's toys. Salutations to thee that art old, that art covetous, that art already agitated, and that art about to be agitated. Salutations to thee that hast locks of hair marked by the current of the Ganges, and that hast locks of hair resembling blades of Munja grass! Salutations to thee that art gratified with the six (well-known) acts, and that art devoted to the performance of the three acts.[1413] Salutations to thee that hast assigned the duties of the respective modes of life. Salutations to thee that deservest to be praised in sounds, that art of the form of sorrow, and that art of the form of deep and confused noise. Salutations to thee that hast eyes both white and tawny, as also dark and red. Salutations to thee that hast conquered thy vital breaths, that art of the form of weapons, that rivest all things, and that art exceedingly lean. Salutations to thee that always discoursest of Religion, Pleasure, Profit, and Emancipation. Salutations to thee that art a Sankhya, that art the foremost of Sankhyas, and that art the introducer of the Sankhya-Yoga.[1414] Salutations to thee that hast a car and that art without a car (for thy journeys).[1415] Salutations to thee that hast the intersections of four roads for thy car; to thee that hast the skin of a black deer for thy upper garments, and that hast a snake for thy sacred thread. Salutations to thee that art Isana, that art of body as hard as thunderbolt, and that art of green locks. Salutations to thee that art of three eyes, that art the lord of Amvika, that art Manifest, and that art Unmanifest.[1416] Salutations to thee that art Desire, that art the Giver of all desires, that art the Killer of all desires, and that art the discriminator between the gratified and the ungratified. Salutations to thee that art all things, the Giver of all things, and the Destroyer of all things. Salutations to thee that art the hues which appear in the evening sky. Salutations to thee that art of mighty strength, that art of mighty arms, that art a mighty Being, and that art of great effulgence. Salutations to thee that lookest like a mighty mass of clouds, and that art the embodiment of eternity! Salutations to thee that art of well-developed body, that art of emaciated limbs, that bearest matted locks on thy head, and that art clad in barks of trees and skins of animals. Salutations to thee that hast matted locks as effulgent as the Sun or the Fire, and that hast barks and skins for thy attire. Salutations to thee that art possessed of the effulgence of a thousand Suns, and that art ever engaged in penances. Salutations to thee that art the excitement of Fever and that art endued with matted locks drenched with the waters of the Ganges characterised by hundreds of eddies. Salutations to thee that repeatedly revolvest the Moon, the Yugas, and the clouds.[1417] Thou art food, thou art he who eats that food, thou art the giver of food, thou art the grower of food, and thou art the creator of food. Salutations to thee that cookest food and that eatest cooked food, and that art both wind and fire! O lord of all the lords of the gods, thou art the four orders of living creatures, viz., the viviparous, the oviparous, the filth-born, and plants. Thou art the Creator of the mobile and immobile universe, and thou art their Destroyer! O foremost of all persons conversant with Brahma, they that are conversant with Brahma regard thee as Brahma! The utterers of Brahma say that thou art the Supreme source of Mind, and the Refuge upon which Space, Wind, and Light rest. Thou art the Richs and the Samans, and the syllable Om. O foremost of all deities, those utterers of Brahma that sing the Samans constantly sing thee when they utter the syllables Hayi-Hayi, Huva-Hayi, and Huva-Hoyi.[1418] Thou art made up of the Yajuses, of the Richs, and of the offerings poured on the sacrificial fire. The hymns contained in the Vedas and the Upanishads adore thee![1419] Thou art the Brahmanas and the Kshatriyas, the Vaisyas, and the Sudras, and the other castes formed by intermixture. Thou art those masses of clouds that appear in the sky; thou art Lightning; and thou art the roar of thunder. Thou art the year, thou art the seasons, thou art the month, and thou art the fortnight. Thou art Yuga, thou art the time represented by a twinkle of the eye, thou art Kashtha, thou art the Constellations, thou art the Planets, thou art Kala. Thou art the tops of all trees, thou art the highest summits of all mountains. Thou art the tiger among the lower animals, thou art Garuda among birds, and thou art Ananta among snakes. Thou art the ocean of milk among all oceans and thou art the bow among instruments for hurling weapons. Thou art the thunder among weapons, and thou art Truth among vows. Thou art Aversion and thou art Desire: thou art attachment and thou art stupefaction (of judgment): thou art Forgiveness and thou art Unforgiveness. Thou art Exertion, and thou art Patience: thou art Cupidity: thou art Lust and thou art Wrath: thou art Victory and thou art Defeat. Thou art armed with mace, and thou art armed with shaft: thou art armed with the bow, and thou bearest the Khattanga and the Jharjhara in thy hands. Thou art he who cuttest down and piercest and smitest. Thou art he who leads (all creatures) and he who gives them pain and grief. Thou art Righteousness which is marked by ten virtues; thou art Wealth or Profit of every kind; and thou art Pleasure. Thou art Ganga, thou art the Oceans, thou art the Rivers, thou art the lakes, and thou art the tanks. Thou art the thin creepers, thou art the thicker creeping plants, thou art all kinds of grass, and thou art the deciduous herbs. Thou art all the lower animals and thou art the birds. Thou art the origin of all objects and acts, and thou art that season which yields fruits and flowers. Thou art the beginning and thou art the end of the Vedas; thou art the Gayatri, and thou art Om. Thou art Green, thou art Red, thou art Blue, thou art Dark, thou art of Bloody hue, thou art of the colour of the Sun, thou art Tawny, thou art Brown, and thou art Dark blue.[1420] Thou art without colour, thou art of the best colour, thou art the maker of colours, and thou art without comparison. Thou art of the name of Gold, and thou art fond of Gold. Thou art Indra, thou art Yama, thou art the Giver of boons, thou art the Lord of wealth, and thou art Agni. Thou art the Eclipse, thou art the Fire called Chitrabhanu, thou art Rahu, and thou art the Sun. Thou art the fire upon which sacrificial butter is poured. Thou art He who pours the butter. Thou art He in honour of whom the butter is poured, thou art the butter itself that is poured, and thou art the puissant Lord of all. Thou art those sections of the Brahmans that are called Trisuparna, thou art all the Vedas; and thou art the sections called Satarudriya in the Yajuses. Thou art the holiest of holies, and the auspicious of all auspicious things. Thou animatest the inanimate body. Thou art the Chit that dwellest in the human form. Invested with attributes, thou becomest subject to Destruction. Thou art Jiva, that is He who is never subject to destruction when uninvested with attributes. Thou art full yet thou becomest liable to decay and death in the form of the body which is Jiva's accompaniment. Thou art the breath of life, and thou art Sattwa, thou art Rajas, thou art Tamas, and thou art not subject to error. Thou art the breaths called Prana, Apana, Samana, Udana, and Vyana. Thou art the opening of the eye and shutting of the eye. Thou art the act of Sneezing and thou art the act of Yawning. Thou art of red eyes which are ever turned inwards. Thou art of large mouth and large stomach.[1421] The bristles on thy body are like needles. Thy beard is green. Thy hair is turned upwards. Thou art swifter than the swiftest. Thou art conversant with the principles of music both vocal and instrumental, and fond of both vocal and instrumental music.[1422] Thou art a fish roving in the waters, and thou art a fish entangled in the net. Thou art full, thou art fond of sports, and thou art of the form of all quarrels and disputes. Thou art Time, thou art bad time, thou art time that is premature, and thou art time that is over-mature.[1423] Thou art the killing, thou art the razor (that kills), and thou art that which is killed. Thou art the auxiliary and thou art the adversary, and thou art the destroyer of both auxiliaries and adversaries. Thou art the time when clouds appear, thou art of large teeth, and thou art Samvartaka and Valahaka.[1424] Thou art manifest in the form of splendour. Thou art concealed in consequence of being invested with Maya (or illusion). Thou art He who connects creatures with the fruits of their acts. Thou hast a bell in thy hand. Thou playest with all mobile and immobile things (as with thy toys). Thou art the cause of all causes. Thou art a Brahma (in the form of Pranava), thou art Swaha; thou art the bearer of the Danda, thy head is bald, and thou art he who has his words, deeds and thoughts under control.[1425] Thou art the four Yugas, thou art the four Vedas, thou art He from whom the four (Sacrificial) fires have flowed.[1426] Thou art the Director of all the duties of the four modes of life. Thou art the maker of the four Orders. Thou art always fond of dice. Thou art cunning. Thou art the chief of the spirits distributed into ganas (clans), and their ruler. Thou art adorned with red garlands and attired in robes that are red. Thou sleepest on the mountain-breast, and thou art fond of the red hue. Thou art the artisan; thou art the foremost of artists; and it is thou from whom all arts have flowed. Thou art the tearer of the eyes of Bhaga; thou art Fierce, and thou art He who destroyed the teeth of Pushan.[1427] Thou art Swaha, thou art Swadha, thou art Vashat, thou art Salutation's form, and thou art the words Namas-Namas uttered by all worshippers. Thy observances and thy penances are not known to others. Thou art Pranava; thou art the firmament bespangled with myriads of stars. Thou art Dhatri, and Vidhatri, and Sandhatri, Vidhatri, and the Refuge of all things in the form of the Supreme cause, and thou art independent of all Refuge. Thou art conversant with Brahma, thou art Penance, thou art Truth, thou art the soul of Brahmacharya, and thou art Simplicity.[1428] Thou art the soul of creatures, thou art the Creator of all creatures, thou art absolute Existence, and thou art the Cause whence the Past, the Present, and the Future, have sprung. Thou art Earth, thou art Firmament, and thou art Heaven. Thou art Eternal, thou art Self-restrained, and thou art the great god. Thou art initiated, and thou art not initiated. Thou art forgiving; thou art unforgiving; and thou art the chastiser of all who are rebellious. Thou art the lunar month, thou art the cycle of the Yugas (i.e., Kalpa), thou art Destruction, and thou art Creation. Thou art Lust, thou art the vital seed, thou art subtile, thou art gross, and thou art fond of garlands made of Karnikara flowers. Thou hast a face like that of Nandi, thou hast a face that is terrible, thou hast a handsome face, thou hast an ugly face, and thou art without a face. Thou hast four faces, thou hast many faces, and thou hast a fiery face when engaged in battles. Thou art gold-stomached (i.e., Narayana), thou art (unattached to all things like) a bird (unattached to the earth whence it derives its food and to which it belongs), thou art Ananta (the lord of mighty snakes), and thou art Virat (hugest of the huge). Thou art the destroyer of Unrighteousness, thou art called Mahaparswa, thou art Chandradhara, and thou art the chief of the spirit-clans. Thou lowedst like a cow, thou wert the protector of kine, and thou hast the lord of bulls for thy attendant.[1429] Thou art the protector of the three worlds, thou art Govinda, thou art the director of the senses, and thou art incapable of being apprehended by the senses. Thou art the foremost of all creatures, thou art fixed, thou art immobile, thou tremblest not, and thou art of the form of trembling![1430] Thou art incapable of being resisted, thou art the destroyer of all poisons, thou art incapable of being borne (in battle), and thou art incapable of being transcended, thou canst not be made to tremble, thou canst not be measured, thou canst not be vanquished, and thou art victory.[1431] Thou art of swift speed, thou art the Moon, thou art Yama (the universal destroyer), thou bearest (without flinching) cold and heat and hunger and weakness and disease. Thou art all mental agonies, thou art all physical diseases, thou art the curer of all diseases, and thou art those diseases themselves which thou curest. Thou art the destroyer of my Sacrifice which had endeavoured to escape in the form of deer. Thou art the advent and the departure of all diseases. Thou hast a high crest. Thou hast eyes like lotus-petals. Thy habitation is in the midst of a forest of lotuses. Thou bearest the ascetic's staff in thy hands. Thou hast the three Vedas for thy three eyes. Thy chastisements are fierce and severe. Thou art the destroyer of the egg (whence the universe springs). Thou art the drinker of both poison and fire, thou art the foremost of all deities, thou art the drinker of Soma, thou art the lord of the Maruts.[1432] Thou art the drinker of Nectar. Thou art the Master of the universe. Thou shinest in glory, and thou art the lord of all the shining ones. Thou protectest from poison and death, and thou drinkest milk and Soma. Thou art the foremost of the protectors of those that have fallen off from heaven, and thou protectest him who is the first of the deities.[1433] Gold is thy vital seed. Thou art male, thou art female, thou art neuter. Thou art an infant, thou art a youth, thou art old in years with thy teeth worn out, thou art the foremost of Nagas, thou art Sakra, thou art the Destroyer of the universe, and thou art its Creator. Thou art Prajapati, and thou art adored by the Prajapatis, thou art the supporter of the universe, thou hast the universe for thy form, thou art endued with great energy, and thou hast faces turned towards all directions. The Sun and the Moon are thy two eyes, and the Grandsire is thy heart. Thou art the Ocean. The goddess Saraswati is thy speech and Fire and Wind are thy might. Thou art Day and Night. Thou art all acts including the opening and the shutting of the eye. Neither Brahman, nor Govinda, nor the ancient Rishis, are competent to understand thy greatness, O auspicious deity, truly. Those subtile forms which thou hast are invisible to us. Rescue me and, O, protect me as the sire protects the son of his loins. O, protect one! I deserve thy protection. I bow to thee, O sinless one! Thou, O illustrious one, art full of compassion for thy devotees. I am always devoted to thee. Let him be always my protector who stayeth alone on the other side of the ocean, in a form that is difficult to be apprehended, and overwhelming many thousands of persons![1434] I bow to that Soul of Yoga who is beheld in the form of an effulgent Light by persons that have their senses under control, that are possessed of the attribute of Sattwa, that have regulated their breaths, and that have conquered sleep.[1435] I bow to him who is endued with matted locks, who bears the ascetic's staff in his hand, who is possessed of a body having a long abdomen, who has a kamandalu tied to his back, and who is the Soul of Brahman. I bow to Him who is the soul of water, in whose hair are the clouds, in the joints of whose body are the rivers, and in whose stomach are the four oceans. I seek the protection to Him who, when the end of the Yuga comes, devours all creatures and stretches himself (for sleep) on the wide expanse of water that covers the universe. Let him who entering Rahu's mouth drinketh Soma in the night and who becoming Swarbhanu devoureth Surya also, protect me![1436] The deities, who are mere infants and who have all sprung from thee after Brahman's creation, enjoy their respective shares (in sacrificial offerings). Let them (peacefully) enjoy those offerings made with Swaha and Swadha, and let them derive pleasure from those presents. I bow to them.[1437] Let those Beings that are of the stature of the thumb and that dwell in all bodies, always protect and gratify me.[1438] I always bow to those Beings who dwelling within embodied creatures make the latter cry in grief without themselves crying in grief, and who gladden them without themselves being glad. I always bow to those Rudras who dwell in rivers, in oceans, in hills and mountains, in mountain-caves, in the roots of trees, in cow-pens, in inaccessible forests, in the intersections of roads, in roads, in open squares, in banks (of rivers and lakes and oceans), in elephant-sheds, in stables, in car-sheds, in deserted gardens and houses, in the five primal elements, and in the cardinal and subsidiary directions. I bow repeatedly unto them that dwell in the space amidst the Sun and the Moon, as also in rays of the Sun and the Moon, and them that dwell in the nether regions, and them that have betaken themselves to Renunciation and other superior practices for the sake of the Supreme.[1439] I bow always unto them that are unnumbered, that are unmeasured, and that have no form, unto those Rudras, that is, that are endued with infinite attributes. Since thou, O Rudra, art the Creator of all creatures, since, O Hara, thou art the Master of all creatures, and since thou art the indwelling Soul of all creatures, therefore wert thou not invited by me (to my Sacrifices). Since thou art He who is adored in all sacrifices with plentiful gifts, and since it is Thou that art the Creator of all things, therefore I did not invite thee. Or, perhaps, O god, stupefied by thy subtile illusion I failed to invite thee. Be gratified with me, blessed by thyself, O Bhava, with me possessed by the quality of Rajas. My Mind, my Understanding, and my Chitta all dwell in thee, O god!' "'"Hearing these adorations, that Lord of all creatures, viz., Mahadeva, ceased (to think of inflicting further injuries on Daksha). Indeed, highly gratified, the illustrious deity addressed Daksha, saying, 'O Daksha of excellent vows, pleased have I been with these adorations of thine. Thou needst not praise me more. Thou shalt attain to my companionship. Through my grace, O progenitor of creatures, thou shalt earn the fruit of a thousand horse-sacrifices, and a hundred Vajapeyas (in consequence of this one incomplete sacrifice of thine).' "'"Once more, Mahadeva, that thorough master of words, addressed Daksha and said unto him these words fraught with high consolation, 'Be thou the foremost of all creatures in the world. Thou shouldst not, O Daksha, entertain any feelings of grief for these injuries inflicted on thy Sacrifice. It has been seen that in former Kalpas too I had to destroy thy Sacrifice.[1440] O thou of excellent vows, I shall grant thee again some more boons. Take them from me. Dispelling this cheerlessness that overspreads thy face, listen to me with undivided attention. With the aid of arguments addressed to reason the deities and the Danavas have extracted from the Vedas consisting of six branches and from the system of Sankhya and Yoga a creed in consequence of which they have practised the austerest penances for many long years. The religion, however, which I have extracted, is unparalleled, and productive of benefits on every side. It is open to men in all modes of life to practise it. It leads to Emancipation. It may be acquired in many years or through merit by persons who have restrained their senses. It is shrouded in mystery. They that are divested of wisdom regard it as censurable. It is opposed to the duties laid down in respect of the four orders of men and the four modes of life, and agrees with those duties in only a few particulars. They that are well-skilled in the science of (drawing) conclusions (from premises) can understand its propriety: and they who have transcended all the modes of life are worthy of adopting it. In days of yore, O Daksha, this auspicious religion called Pasupata had been extracted by me. The proper observance of that religion produces immense benefits. Let those benefits be thine, O highly blessed one! Cast off this fever of thy heart.' Having said these words, Mahadeva, with his spouse (Uma) and with all his attendants disappeared from the view of Daksha of immeasurable prowess. He who would recite this hymn that was first uttered by Daksha or who would listen to it when recited by another, would never meet with the smallest evil and would attain to a long life. Indeed, as Siva is the foremost of all the deities, even so is this hymn, agreeable with the Srutis, is the foremost of all hymns. Persons desirous of fame, kingdom, happiness, pleasure, profit, and wealth, as also those desirous of learning, should listen with feelings of devotion to the recital of this hymn. One suffering from disease, one distressed by pain, one plunged into melancholy, one afflicted by thieves or by fear, one under the displeasure of the king in respect of his charge, becomes freed from fear (by listening or reciting this hymn). By listening to or reciting this hymn, one, in even this earthly body of his, attains to equality with the spirits forming the attendants of Mahadeva. One becomes endued with energy and fame, and cleansed of all sin (through the virtue of this hymn). Neither Rakshasas, nor Pisachas, nor ghosts, nor Vinayakas, create disturbances in his house where this hymn is recited. That woman, again, who listens to this hymn with pious faith, observing the while the practices of Brahmacharya, wins worship as a goddess in the family of her sire and that of her husband.[1441] All the acts of that person become always crowned with success who listens or recites with rapt attention to the whole of this hymn. In consequence of the recitation of this hymn all the wishes one forms in one's mind and all the wishes one clothes in words become crowned with fruition. That man obtains all objects of enjoyment and pleasure and all things that are wished for by him, who, practising self-restraint, makes according to due rites offerings unto Mahadeva, Guha, Uma, and Nandi, and after that utters their names without delay, in proper order and with devotion. Such a man, departing from this life, ascends to heaven, and has never to take birth among the intermediate animals or birds. This was said even by the puissant Vyasa, the son of Parasara."'" SECTION CCLXXXVI "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what is Adhyatma with respect to man and whence it arises." "'Bhishma said, "Aided by the science of Adhyatma one may know everything. It is, again, superior to all things. I shall, with the help of my intelligence, explain to thee that Adhyatma about which thou askest me. Listen, O son, to my explanation. Earth, Wind, Space, Water, and Light forming the fifth, are the great essences. These are (the causes of) the origin and the destruction of all creatures. The bodies of living creatures (both subtile and gross), O bull of Bharata's race, are the result of the combination of the virtues of these five. Those virtues (whose combinations produce the bodies of creatures) repeatedly start into existence and repeatedly merge into the original cause of all things, viz., the Supreme Soul.[1442] From those five primal essences are created all creatures, and into those five great elements all creatures resolve themselves, repeatedly, like the infinite waves of the Ocean rising from the Ocean and subsiding into that which causes them. As a tortoise stretches forth its legs and withdraws them again into itself, even so the infinite number of creatures spring from (and enter) these five great fixed essences. Verily, sound springs from Space, and all dense matter is the attribute of earth. Life is from Wind. Taste is from Water. Form is said to be the property of Light. The entire mobile and immobile universe is thus these five great essences existing together in various proportions. When Destruction comes, the infinite diversity of creatures resolve themselves into those five, and once more, when Creation begins, they spring from the same five. The Creator places in all creatures the same five great essences in proportions that He thinks proper. Sound, the ears, and all cavities,--these three,--have Space for their producing cause. Taste, all watery or juicy substances, and the tongue, are said to be the properties of water. Form, the eye, and the digestive fire in the stomach, are said to partake of the nature of Light. Scent, the organ of smelling, and the body, are the properties of earth. Life, touch, and action are said to be the properties of Wind. I have thus explained to thee, O king, all the properties of the five primal essences. Having created these, the Supreme Deity, O Bharata, united with them Sattwa, Rajas, Tamas, Time, Consciousness of functions, and Mind forming the sixth.[1443] That which is called the Understanding dwells in the interior of what thou seest above the soles of the feet and below the crown of the head. In man the senses (of knowledge) are five. The sixth (sense) is the Mind. The seventh is called the Understanding. The Kshetrajna or Soul is the eighth. The senses and that which is the Actor should be ascertained by apprehension of their respective functions. The conditions or states called Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas, depend upon the senses for their refuge or formation. The senses exist for simply seizing the impressions of their respective objects. The Mind has doubt for its function. The Understanding is for ascertainment. The Kshetrajna is said to be only an inactive witness (of the functions of the others). Sattwa, Rajas, Tamas, Time, and Acts, O Bharata, these attributes direct the Understanding. The Understanding is the senses and the five fore-mentioned attributes.[1444] When the Understanding is wanting, the senses with the mind, and the five other attributes (viz., Sattwa, Rajas, Tamas, Time, and Acts) cease to be. That by which the Understanding sees is called the eye. When the Understanding hears, it is called the ear. When she smells, she becomes the sense of scent; and when she tastes the various objects of taste, she comes to be called by the name of tongue. When again she feels the touch of the various objects of touch, she becomes the sense of touch. It is the Understanding that becomes modified diversely and frequently. When the Understanding desires anything, she becomes Mind. The five senses with the Mind, which separately constitute the foundations (of the Understanding), are the creations of the Understanding. They are called Indriyas. When they become stained, the Understanding also becomes stained.[1445] The Understanding, dwelling in Jiva, exists in three states. Sometimes she obtains joy; sometimes she indulges in grief; and sometimes she exists in a state that is neither pleasure nor pain. Having for her essence these conditions or states (viz., Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas), the Understanding resolves through these three states.[1446] As the lord of rivers, viz., the surging Ocean, always keeps within his continents, even so the Understanding, which exists in connection with the (three) states, exists in the Mind (including the senses). When the state of Rajas is awakened, the Understanding becomes modified into Rajas. Transport of delight, joy, gladness, happiness, and contentedness of heart, these, when somehow excited, are the properties of Sattwa. Heart-burning, grief, sorrow, discontentedness, and unforgivingness,[1447] arising from particular causes, are the result of Rajas. Ignorance, attachment and error, heedlessness, stupefaction, and terror, meanness, cheerlessness, sleep, and procrastination,--these, when brought about by particular causes, are the properties of Tamas. Whatever state of either body or mind, connected with joy or happiness, arises, should be regarded as due to the state of Sattwa. Whatever, again, is fraught with sorrow and is disagreeable to oneself should be regarded as arising from Rajas. Without commencing any such act, one should turn one's attention to it (for avoiding it). Whatever is fraught with error or stupefaction in either body or mind, and is inconceivable and mysterious, should be known as connected with Tamas. Thus, have I explained to thee that things in this world dwell in the Understanding. By knowing this one becomes wise. What else can be the indication of wisdom? Know now the difference between these two subtile things, viz., Understanding and Soul. One of these, viz., the Understanding, creates attributes. The other, viz., the Soul, does not create them. Although they are, by nature, distinct from each other, yet they always exist in a state of union. A fish is different from the water in which it dwells, but the fish and the water must exist together. The attributes cannot know the Soul. The Soul, however, knows them. They that are ignorant regard the Soul as existing in a state of union with the attributes like qualities existing with their possessors. This, however, is not the case, for the Soul is truly only an inactive Witness of everything. The Understanding has no refuge.[1448] That which is called life (involving the existence of the Understanding) arises from the effects of the attributes coming together. Others (than these attributes which are created by the Understanding), acting as causes, create the Understanding that dwells in the body. No one can apprehend the attributes in their real nature or form of existence. The Understanding, as already said, creates the attributes. The Soul simply beholds them (as an inactive Witness). This union that exists between the Understanding and the Soul is eternal. The indwelling Understanding apprehends all things through the Senses which are themselves inanimate and unapprehending. Really the senses are only like lamps (that throw their light for discovering objects to others without themselves being able to see them). Even this is the nature (of the Senses, the Understanding, and the Soul). Knowing this, one should live cheerfully, without yielding to either grief or joy. Such a man is said to be beyond the influence of pride. That the Understanding creates all these attributes is due to her own nature,--even as a spider weaves threads in consequence of her own nature. These attributes should be known as the threads the spider weaves. When destroyed, the attributes do not cease to exist; their existence ceases to be visible. When, however, a thing transcends the ken of the senses, its existence (or otherwise) is affirmed by inference. This is the opinion of one set of persons. Others affirm that with destruction the attributes cease to be. Untying this knotty problem addressed to the understanding and reflection, and dispelling all doubt, one should cast off sorrow and live in happiness.[1449] As men unacquainted with its bottom become distressed when they fall upon this earth which is like a river filled with the waters of stupefaction, even so is that man afflicted who falls away from that state in which there is a union with the Understanding.[1450] Men of knowledge, however, conversant with Adhyatma and armed with fortitude, are never afflicted, because they are capable of crossing to the other shore of those waters. Indeed, Knowledge is an efficient raft (in that river). Men of knowledge have not to encounter those frightful terrors which alarm them that are destitute of knowledge. As regards the righteous, none of them attains to an end that is superior to that of any other person amongst them. Indeed, the righteous show, in this respect, an equality. As regards the man of Knowledge, whatever acts have been done by him in past times (while he was steeped in Ignorance) and whatever acts fraught with great iniquity he does (after attainment of Knowledge), he destroys both by Knowledge as his sole means. Then again, upon the attainment of Knowledge he ceases to perpetrate these two evils, viz., censuring the wicked acts of others and doing any wicked acts himself under the influence of attachment."'"[1451] SECTION CCLXXXVII "'Yudhishthira said, "Living creatures always stand in fear of sorrow and death. Tell me, O grandsire, how the occurrence of these two may be prevented." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection, O Bharata, is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Narada and Samanga. "'"Narada said, '(While others salute their superiors by only a bend of the head) thou salutest thy superiors by prostrating thyself on the ground till thy chest comes into contact with the ground. Thou seemest to be engaged in crossing (the river of life) with thy hands.[1452] Thou seemest to be always free from sorrow and exceedingly cheerful. I do not see that thou hast the least anxiety. Thou art always content and happy and thou seemest to sport (in felicity) like a child.' "'"Samanga said, 'O giver of honours, I know the truth about the Past, the Present, and the Future. Hence I never become cheerless.[1453] I know also what the beginning of acts is in this world, what the accession of their fruits, and how varied are those fruits. Hence I never yield to sorrow.[1454] Behold, the illiterate, the destitute, the prosperous, O Narada, the blind, idiots and madmen, and ourselves also, all live.[1455] These live by virtue of their acts of past lives. The very deities, who exist freed from diseases, exist (in that state) by virtue of their past acts. The strong and the weak, all, live by virtue of past acts. It is fitting, therefore, that thou shouldst hold us in esteem. The owners of thousands live. The owners of hundreds also live. They that are overwhelmed with sorrow live. Behold, we too are living! When we, O Narada, do not give way to grief, what can the practice of the duties (of religion) or the observance of (religious) acts do to us? And since all joys and sorrows also are not unending, they are, therefore, unable to agitate us at all.[1456] That for which men are said to be wise, indeed, the very root of wisdom, is the freedom of the senses from error. It is the senses that yield to error and grief. One whose senses are subject to error can never be said to have attained wisdom. That pride which is indulged in by a man subject to error is only a form of the error to which he is subject. As regards the man of error, he has neither this world nor the next. It should be remembered that griefs do not last for ever and that happiness cannot be had always.[1457] Worldly life with all its vicissitudes and painful incidents, one like me would never adopt. Such a one would not care for desirable objects of enjoyments, and would not think at all of the happiness their possession may bring about, or, indeed, of the griefs that present themselves.[1458] One capable of resting on one's own self would never covet the possessions of others, would not think of gains unacquired, would not feel delighted at the acquisition of even immense wealth; and would not yield to sorrow at the loss of wealth. Neither friends, nor wealth, nor high birth, nor scriptural learning, nor mantras, nor energy, can succeed in rescuing one from sorrow in the next world. It is only by conduct that one can attain to felicity there. The Understanding of the man unconversant with Yoga can never be directed towards Emancipation. One unconversant with Yoga can never have happiness. Patience and the resolution to cast off sorrow, these two indicate the advent of happiness. Anything agreeable leads to pleasure. Pleasure induces pride. Pride, again, is productive of sorrow. For these reasons, I avoid all these. Grief, Fear, Pride,--these that stupefy the heart,--and also Pleasure and Pain, I behold as (an unconcerned) witness since my body is endued with life and moves about.[1459] Casting off both wealth and pleasure, and thirst and error, I wander over the earth, freed from grief and every kind of anxiety of heart. Like one that has drunk nectar I have no fear, here or hereafter, of death, or iniquity, or cupidity, or anything of that kind. I have acquired this knowledge, O Brahmana, as the result of my severe and indestructible penances. It is for this reason, O Narada, that grief, even when it comes to me, does not succeed in afflicting me.'"'" SECTION CCLXXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, what is beneficial for one that is unconversant with the truths of the scriptures, that is always in doubt, and that abstains from self-restraint and the other practices having for their object the knowledge of the Soul." "'Bhishma said, "Worshipping the preceptor, always waiting reverentially on those that are aged, and listening to the scriptures (when recited by competent Brahmanas),--these are said to be of supreme benefit (to a person like the one thou hast described). In this connection also is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Galava and the celestial Rishi Narada. Once on a time Galava, desirous of obtaining what was for his benefit, addressed Narada freed from error and fatigue, learned in the scriptures, gratified with knowledge, a thorough master of his senses, and with soul devoted to Yoga, and said, 'Those virtues, O Muni, by the possession of which a person becomes respected in the world, I see, dwell permanently in thee. Thou art freed from error and, as such, it behoveth thee to remove the doubts that fill the minds of men like ourselves that are subject to error and that are unacquainted with the truths of the world. We do not know what we should do, for the declarations of the scriptures generate an inclination for (the acquisition of) Knowledge simultaneously with the inclination for acts. It behoveth thee to discourse to us on these subjects.[1460] O illustrious one, the different asramas approve different courses of conduct.--_This_ is beneficial,--_This_ (other) is beneficial--the scriptures exhort us often in this wise.[1461] Beholding the followers of the four asramas, who are thus exhorted by the scriptures and who fully approve of what the scriptures have laid down for them, thus travelling in diverse courses, and seeing that ourselves also are equally content with our own scriptures, we fail to understand what is truly beneficial. If the scriptures were all uniform, then what is truly beneficial would have become manifest. In consequence, however, of the scriptures being multifarious, that which is truly beneficial becomes invested with mystery. For these reasons, that which is truly beneficial seems to me to be involved in confusion. Do thou then, O illustrious one, discourse to me on the subject. I have approached thee (for this), O, instruct me!' "'"Narada said, 'The Asramas are four in number, O child! All of them serve the purposes for which they have been designed; and the duties they preach differ from one another. Ascertaining them first from well-qualified preceptors, reflect upon them, O Galava![1462] Behold, the announcements of the merits of those Asramas are varied in respect of their form, divergent in respect of their matter, and contradictory in respect of the observances they embrace.[1463] Observed with gross vision, verily, all the Asramas refuse to clearly yield their true intent (which, of course, is knowledge of Self). Others, however, endued with subtle sight, behold their highest end.[1464] That which is truly beneficial, and about which there is no doubt, viz., good offices to friends, and suppression of enemies, and the acquisition of the aggregate of three (viz., Religion, Profit, and Pleasure), has been declared by the wise to be supreme excellence.[1465] Abstention from sinful acts, constancy of righteous disposition, good behaviour towards those that are good and pious,--these, without doubt, constitute excellence. Mildness towards all creatures, sincerity of behaviour, and the use of sweet words,--these, without doubt, constitute excellence. An equitable apportionment of what one has among the deities, the Pitris, and guests, and adherence to servants,--these, without doubt, constitute excellence. Truthfulness of speech is excellent. The knowledge, however, of truth, is very difficult of acquisition. I say that that is truth which is exceedingly beneficial to creatures.[1466] The renunciation of pride, the suppression of heedlessness, contentment, living by one's own self,--these are said to constitute supreme excellence. The study of the Vedas, and of their branches, according to the well-known rules, and all enquiries and pursuits having for their sake the acquisition of knowledge,--these, without doubt, are excellent. One desirous of achieving what is excellent should never enjoy sound and form and taste and touch and scent to excess and should not enjoy them for their sake alone. Wandering in the night, sleep during the day, indulgence in idleness, roguery, arrogance, excessive indulgence and total abstention from all indulgence in objects of the senses, should be relinquished by one desirous of achieving what is excellent.[1467] One should not seek self-elevation by depreciating others. Indeed, one should, by one's merits alone, seek distinction over persons that are distinguished but never over those that are inferior. Men really destitute of merit and filled with a sense of self-admiration depreciate men of real merit, by asserting their own virtues and affluence. Swelling with a sense of their own importance, these men, when none interferes with them (for bringing them to a right sense of what they are), regard themselves to be superior to men of real distinction. One possessed of real wisdom and endued with real merits, acquires great fame by abstaining from speaking ill of others and from indulging in self-praise. Flowers shed their pure and sweet fragrance without trumpeting forth their own excellence. Similarly, the effulgent Sun scatters his splendours in the firmament in perfect silence. After the same manner those men blaze in the world with celebrity who by the aid of their intelligence, cast off these and similar other faults and who do not proclaim their own virtues. The fool can never shine in the world by bruiting about his own praise. The man, however, of real merit and learning obtains celebrity even if he be concealed in a pit. Evil words, uttered with whatsoever vigour of voice die out (in no time). Good words, uttered however softly, blaze forth in the world. As the Sun shows his fiery form (in the gem called Suryakanta), even so the multitude of words, of little sense, that fools filled with vanity utter, display only (the meanness of) their hearts. For these reasons, men seek the acquisition of wisdom of various kinds. It seems to me that of all acquisitions that of wisdom is the most valuable. One should not speak until one is asked; nor should one speak when one is asked improperly. Even if possessed of intelligence and knowledge, one should still sit in silence like an idiot (until one is asked to speak and asked in proper form). One should seek to dwell among honest men devoted to righteousness and liberality and the observance of the duties of their own order. One desirous of achieving what is excellent should never dwell in a place where a confusion occurs in the duties of the several orders.[1468] A person may be seen to live who abstains from all works (for earning the means of his living) and who is well-content with whatever is got without exertion. By living amid the righteous, one succeeds in acquiring pure righteousness. After the same manner, one by living amid the sinful, becomes stained with sin.[1469] As the touch of water or fire or the rays of the moon immediately conveys the sensation of cold or heat, after the same manner the impressions of virtue and vice become productive of happiness or misery. They that are eaters of Vighasa eat without taking any notice of the flavours of the edibles placed before them. They, however, that eat carefully discriminating the flavours of the viands prepared for them, should be known as persons still tied by the bonds of action.[1470] The righteous man should leave that place where a Brahmana discourses on duties unto disciples desirous of acquiring knowledge, as based on reasons, of the Soul, but who do not enquire after such knowledge with reverence.[1471] Who, however, will leave that spot where exists in its entirety that behaviour between disciples and preceptors which is consistent with what has been laid down in the scriptures? What learned man desirous of respect being paid to himself will dwell in that place where people bruit about the faults of the learned even when such have no foundation to stand upon?[1472] Who is there that will not leave that place, like a garment whose end has caught fire, where covetous men seek to break down the barriers of virtue? One should remain and dwell in that place, among good men of righteous disposition, where persons endued with humility are engaged in fearlessly practising the duties of religion. There where men practise the duties of religion for the sake of acquiring wealth and other temporal advantages, one should not dwell, for the people of that place are all to be regarded as sinful. One should fly away with all speed from that place, as if from a room in which there is a snake, where the inhabitants, desirous of obtaining the means of life, are engaged in the practice of sinful deeds. One desirous of what is beneficial should, from the beginning, relinquish that act in consequence of which one becomes stretched, as it were, on a bed of thorn and in consequence of which one becomes invested with the desires born of the deeds of past lives.[1473] The righteous man should leave that kingdom where the king and king's officers exercise equal authority and where they are given to the habit of eating before feeding their relatives (when the latter come as guests).[1474] One should dwell in that country where Brahmanas possessed of a knowledge of the scriptures are fed first, where they are always devoted to the due observance of religious duties, and where they are engaged in teaching disciples and officiating at the sacrifices of others. One should unhesitatingly dwell in that country where the sounds Swaha, Swadha, and Vashat are duly and continuously uttered.[1475] One should leave that kingdom, like poisoned meat, where one sees Brahmanas obliged to betake themselves to unholy practices, being tortured by want of the means of life. With a contented heart and deeming all his wishes as already gratified a righteous man should dwell in that country whose inhabitants cheerfully give away before even they are solicited. One should live and move about, among good men devoted to acts of righteousness, in that country where chastisement falleth upon those that are wicked and where respect and good offices are the portion of those that are of subdued and cleansed souls. One should unhesitatingly dwell in that country whose king is devoted to virtue and which the king rules virtuously, casting off desires and possessed of prosperity, and where severe chastisement is dealt to those that visit self-controlled men with the consequences of their wrath, those that act wickedly towards the righteous, those that are given to acts of violence, and those that are covetous.[1476] Kings endued with such a disposition bring about prosperity to those that dwell in their kingdoms when prosperity is on the point of leaving them.[1477] I have thus told thee, O son, in answer to thy enquiry, what is beneficial or excellent. No one can describe, in consequence of its exceedingly high character, what is beneficial or excellent for the Soul.[1478] Many and high will the excellences be, through the observance of the duties laid down for him, of the man who for earning his livelihood during the time of his sojourn here conducts himself in the way indicated above and who devotes his soul to the good of all creatures.'"'"[1479] SECTION CCLXXXIX "'Yudhishthira said, "How, O grandsire, should a king like us behave in this world, keeping in view the great object of acquisition? What attributes, again, should he always possess so that he may be freed from attachments?" "'Bhishma said, "I shall in this connection recite to thee the old narrative that was uttered by Arishtanemi unto Sagara who had sought his counsel. "'"Sagara said, 'What is that good, O Brahmana, by doing which one may enjoy felicity here? How, indeed, may one avoid grief and agitation? I wish to know all this!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed by Sagara, Arishtanemi of Tarkshya's race, conversant with all the scriptures, regarding the questioner to be every way deserving of his instructions, said these words,[1480] 'The felicity of Emancipation is true felicity in the world. The man of ignorance knows it not, attached as he is to children and animals and possessed of wealth and corn. An understanding that is attached to worldly objects and a mind suffering from thirst,--these two baffle all skilful treatment. The ignorant man who is bound in the chains of affection is incapable of acquiring Emancipation.[1481] I shall presently speak to thee of all the bonds that spring from the affections. Hear them with attention. Indeed, they are capable of being heard with profit by one that is possessed of knowledge. Having procreated children in due time and married them when they become young men, and having ascertained them to be competent for earning their livelihood, do thou free thyself from all attachments and rove about in happiness. When thou seest thy dearly-cherished wife grown old in years and attached to the son she has brought forth, do thou leave her in time, keeping in view the highest object of acquisition (viz., Emancipation). Whether thou obtainest a son or not, having during the first years of thy life duly enjoyed with thy senses the objects that are addressed to them, free thyself from attachments and rove about in happiness. Having indulged the senses with their objects, thou shouldst suppress the desire of further indulging them. Freeing thyself then from attachments, thou shouldst rove in felicity, contenting thyself with what is obtained without effort and previous calculation, and casting an equal eye upon all creatures and objects.[1482] Thus, O son, have I told thee in brief (of what the way is for freeing thyself from attachments). Hear me now, for I shall presently tell thee, in detail, the desirability of the acquisition of Emancipation.[1483] Those persons who live in this world freed from attachments and fear, succeed in obtaining happiness. Those persons, however, who are attached to worldly objects, without doubt, meet with destruction. Worms and ants (like men) are engaged in the acquisition of food and are seen to die in the search. They that are freed from attachments are happy, while they that are attached to worldly objects meet with destruction. If thou desirest to attain to Emancipation thou shouldst never bestow thy thoughts on thy relatives, thinking,--How shall these exist without me?--A living creature takes birth by himself, and grows by himself, and obtains happiness and misery, and death by himself. In this world people enjoy and obtain food and raiment and other acquisitions earned by their parents or themselves. This is the result of the acts of past lives, for nothing can be had in this life which is not the result of the past. All creatures live on the Earth, protected by their own acts, and obtaining their food as the result of what is ordained by Him who assigns the fruits of acts. A man is but a lump of clay, and is always himself completely dependent on other forces. One, therefore, being oneself so infirm, what rational consideration can one have for protecting and feeding one's relatives? When thy relatives are carried away by Death in thy very sight and in spite of even thy utmost efforts to save them, that circumstance alone should awaken thee. In the very lifetime of thy relatives and before thy own duty is completed of feeding and protecting them, thyself mayst meet with death and abandon them. After thy relatives have been carried away from this world by death, thou canst not know what becomes of them there,--that is, whether they meet with happiness or misery. This circumstance ought to awaken thee. When in consequence of the fruits of their own acts thy relatives succeed in maintaining themselves in this world whether thou livest or diest, reflecting on this thou shouldst do what is for thy own good.[1484] When this is known to be the case, who in the world is to be regarded as whose? Do thou, therefore, set thy heart on the attainment of Emancipation. Listen now to what more I shall say unto thee. That man of firm Soul is certainly emancipated who has conquered hunger and thirst and such other states of the body, as also wrath and cupidity and error. That man is always emancipated who does not forget himself, through folly, by indulging in gambling and drinking and concubinage and the chase. That man who is really touched by sorrow in consequence of the necessity there is of eating every day and every night for supporting life, is said to be cognisant of the faults of life. One who, as the result of careful reflection, regards his repeated births to be only due to sexual congress with women, is held to be freed from attachments. That man is certainly emancipated who knows truly the nature of the birth, the destruction, and the exertion (or acts) of living creatures. That man becomes certainly freed who regards (as worthy of his acceptance) only a handful of corn, for the support of life, from amidst millions upon millions of carts loaded with grain, and who disregards the difference between a shed of bamboo and reeds and a palatial mansion.[1485] That man becomes certainly freed who beholds the world to be afflicted by death and disease and famine.[1486] Indeed, one who beholds the world to be such succeeds in becoming contented; while one who fails to behold the world in such a light, meets with destruction. That man who is contented with only a little is regarded as freed. That man who beholds the world as consisting of eaters and edibles (and himself as different from both) and who is never touched by pleasure and pain which are born of illusion, is regarded as emancipate. That man who regards a soft bed on a fine bedstead and the hard soil as equal, and who regards good sali rice and hard thick rice as equal, is emancipated. That man who regards linen and cloth made of grass as equal, and in whose estimation cloth of silk and barks of trees are the same, and who sees no difference between clean sheep-skin and unclean leather, is emancipated. That man who looks upon this world as the result of the combination of the five primal essences, and who behaves himself in this world, keeping this notion foremost, is emancipated. That man who regards pleasure and pain as equal, and gain and loss as on a par, in whose estimation victory and defeat differ not, to whom like and dislike are the same, and who is unchanged under fear and anxiety, is wholly emancipated. That man who regards his body which has so many imperfections to be only a mass of blood, urine and excreta, as also of disorders and diseases, is emancipated. That man becomes emancipated who always recollects that this body, when overtaken by decrepitude, becomes assailed by wrinkles and white hairs and leanness and paleness of complexion and a bending of the form. That man who recollects his body to be liable to loss of virility, and weakness of sight, and deafness, and loss of strength, is emancipated. That man who knows that the very Rishis, the deities, and the Asuras are beings that have to depart from their respective spheres to other regions, is emancipated. That man who knows that thousands of kings possessed of even great offence and power have departed from this earth, succeeds in becoming emancipated. That man who knows that in this world the acquisition of objects is always difficult, that pain is abundant, and that the maintenance of relatives is ever attended with pain, becomes emancipated.[1487] Beholding the abundant faults of children and of other men, who is there that would not adore Emancipation? That man who, awakened by the scriptures and the experience of the world, beholds every human concern in this world to be unsubstantial, becomes emancipated. Bearing in mind those words of mine, do thou conduct thyself like one that has become emancipated, whether it is a life of domesticity that thou wouldst lead or pursue emancipation without suffering thy understanding to be confounded.'[1488] Hearing these words of his with attention, Sagara, that lord of earth, acquired those virtues which are productive of Emancipation and continued, with their aid to rule his subjects."'" SECTION CCXC "'Yudhishthira said, "This curiosity, O sire, is always dwelling in my mind. O grandsire of the Kurus, I desire to hear everything about it from thee. Why was the celestial Rishi, the high-souled Usanas, called also Kavi engaged in doing what was agreeable to the Asuras and disagreeable to the deities? Why was he engaged in diminishing the energy of the deities? Why were the Danavas always engaged in hostilities with the foremost of the deities? Possessed of the splendour of an immortal, for what reason did Usanas obtain the name of Sukra? How also did he acquire such superior excellence? Tell me all about these things. Though possessed of great energy, why does he not succeed in travelling to the centre of the firmament? I desire, O grandsire, to learn everything about all these matters."[1489] "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O king, with attention to all this as it occurred actually. O sinless one, I shall narrate these matters to thee as I have heard and understood them. Of firm vows and honoured by all, Usanas, that descendant of Bhrigu's race, became engaged in doing what was disagreeable to the deities for an adequate cause.[1490] The royal Kuvera, the chief of the Yakshas and the Rakshasas, is the lord of the treasury of Indra, that master of the universe.[1491] The great ascetic Usanas, crowned with Yoga-success, entered the person of Kuvera, and depriving the lord of treasures of his liberty by means of Yoga, robbed him of all his wealth.[1492] Seeing his wealth taken away from him, the lord of treasures became highly displeased. Filled with anxiety, and his wrath also being excited, he went to that foremost of gods, viz., Mahadeva. Kuvera, represented the matter unto Siva of immeasurable energy, that first of gods, fierce and amiable, and possessed of various forms. And he said, 'Usanas, having spiritualised himself by Yoga entered my form and depriving myself of liberty, has taken away all my wealth. Having by Yoga entered my body he has again left it.' Hearing these words, Maheswara of supreme Yoga-powers became filled with rage. His eyes, O king, became blood-red, and taking up his lance he waited (ready to strike down Usanas). Indeed, having taken up that foremost of weapons, the great god began to say, 'Where is he? Where is he?' Meanwhile, Usanas, having ascertained the purpose of Mahadeva (through Yoga-power) from a distance, waited in silence. Indeed, having ascertained the fact of the wrath of the high-souled Maheswara of superior Yoga-power, the puissant Usanas began to reflect as to whether he should go to Maheswara or fly away or remain where he was. Thinking, with the aid of his severe penances, of the high-souled Mahadeva, Usanas of soul crowned with Yoga-success, placed himself on the point of Mahadeva's lance. The bow-armed Rudra, understanding that Usanas, whose penances had become successful and who had converted himself into the form of pure Knowledge, was staying at the point of his lance (and finding that he was unable to hurl the lance at one who was upon it), bent that weapon with hand. When the fierce-armed and puissant Mahadeva of immeasurable energy had thus bent his lance (into the form of a bow), that weapon came to be called from that time by the name of Pinaka.[1493] The lord of Uma, beholding Bhargava thus brought upon the palm of his hand, opened his mouth. The chief of the gods then threw Bhargava into his mouth and swallowed him at once. The puissant and high-souled Usanas of Bhrigu's race, entering the stomach of Maheswara, began to wander there." "'Yudhishthira said, "How, O king, could Usanas succeed in wandering within the stomach of that foremost of superior intelligence? What also did that illustrious god do while the Brahmana was within his stomach?"[1494] "'Bhishma said, "In days of yore (having swallowed up Usanas), Mahadeva of severe vows entered the waters and remained there like an immovable stake of wood, O king, for millions of years (engaged in Yoga-meditation). His Yoga penances of the austerest type having been over, he rose from the mighty lake. Then that primeval god of the gods, viz., the eternal Brahman, approached him, and enquired after the progress of his penances and after his welfare. The deity having the bull for his emblem answered, saying, 'My penances have been well-practised.' Of inconceivable soul, possessed of great intelligence, and ever devoted to the religion of truth, Sankara saw that Usanas within his stomach had become greater in consequence of those penances of his.[1495] That foremost of Yogins (viz., Usanas), rich with that wealth of penances and the wealth (he had appropriated from Kuvera), shone brightly in the three worlds, endued with great energy.[1496] After this, Mahadeva armed with Pinaka, that soul of Yoga, once more betook himself to Yoga-meditation. Usanas, however, filled with anxiety, began to wander within the stomach of the great god. The great ascetic began to hymn the praises of the god from where he was, desirous of finding an outlet for escape. Rudra, however, having stopped all his outlets, prevented him from coming out. The great ascetic Usanas, however, O chastiser of foes, from within Mahadeva's stomach, repeatedly addressed the god, saying, 'Show me thy kindness!' Unto him Mahadeva said, 'Go out through my urethra.' He had stopped up all other outlets of his body. Confined on every side and unable to find out the outlet indicated, the ascetic began to wander hither and thither, burning all the while with Mahadeva's energy. At last he found the outlet and issued through it. In consequence of this fact he came to be called by the name of Sukra, and it is in consequence of that fact he also became unable to attain (in course of his wandering) the central point of the firmament. Beholding him come out of his stomach and shining brightly with energy, Bhava, filled with anger, stood with lance uplifted in his hand. The goddess Uma then interposed and forbade the angry lord of all creatures, viz., her spouse, to slay the Brahmana. And in consequence of Uma's having thus prevented her lord from accomplishing his purpose the ascetic Usanas (from the day) became the son of the goddess. "'"The goddess said, 'This Brahmana no longer deserves to be slain by thee. He has become my son. O god, one who comes out of thy stomach does not deserve slaughter at thy hands.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Pacified by these words of his spouse, Bhava smiled and said repeatedly these words, O king, 'Let this one go whithersoever he likes.' Bowing unto the boon-giving Mahadeva and to also his spouse the goddess Uma, the great ascetic Usanas, endued with superior intelligence, proceeded to the place he chose. I have thus narrated to thee, O chief of the Bharatas, the story of the high-souled Bhargava about which thou didst ask me."'" SECTION CCXCI "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou of mighty arms, tell me, after this what is beneficial for us. O grandsire, I am never satiated with thy words which seem to me like Amrita. What are those good acts, O best of men, by accomplishing which a man succeeds in obtaining what is for his highest benefit both here and hereafter, O giver of boons!" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection I shall narrate to thee what the celebrated king Janaka had enquired, in days of yore, of the high-souled Parasara, 'What is beneficial for all creatures both in this world and the next! Do thou tell me what should be known by all this connection.' Thus questioned, Parasara, possessed of great ascetic merit and conversant with the ordinances of every religion,[1497] said these words, desirous of favouring the king. "'"Parasara said, 'Righteousness earned by acts is supreme benefit both in this world and the next. The sages of the old have said that there is nothing higher than Righteousness. By accomplishing the duties of righteousness a man becomes honoured in heaven. The Righteousness, again, of embodied creatures, O best of kings, consists in the ordinance (laid down in the scriptures) on the subject of acts.[1498] All good men belonging to the several modes of life, establishing their faith on that righteousness, accomplish their respective duties.[1499] Four methods of living, O child, have been ordained in this world. (Those four methods are the acceptance of gifts for Brahmanas; the realisation of taxes for Kshatriyas; agriculture for Vaisyas; and service of the three other classes for the Sudras). Wherever men live the means of support come to them of themselves. Accomplishing by various ways acts that are virtuous or sinful (for the purpose of earning their means of support), living creatures, when dissolved into their constituent elements attain to diverse ends.[1500] As vessels of white brass, when steeped in liquefied gold or silver, catch the hue of these metals, even so a living creature, who is completely dependent upon the acts of his past lives takes his colour from the character of those acts. Nothing can sprout forth without a seed. No one can obtain happiness without having accomplished acts capable of leading to happiness. When one's body is dissolved away (into its constituent elements), one succeeds in attaining to happiness only in consequence of the good acts of previous lives. The sceptic argues, O child, saying, I do not behold that anything in this world is the result of destiny or the virtuous and sinful acts of past lives. Inference cannot establish the existence or operation of destiny.[1501] The deities, the Gandharvas and the Danavas have become what they are in consequence of their own nature (and not of their acts of past lives). People never recollect in their next lives the acts done by them in previous ones. For explaining the acquisition of fruits in any particular life people seldom name the four kinds of acts alleged to have been accomplished in past lives.[1502] The declarations having the Vedas for their authority have been made for regulating the conduct of men in this world, and for tranquillizing the minds of men. These (the sceptic says), O child, cannot represent the utterances of men possessed of true wisdom. This opinion is wrong. In reality, one obtains the fruits of whatever among the four kinds of acts one does with the eye, the mind, the tongue, and muscles.[1503] As the fruit of his acts, O king, a person sometimes obtains happiness wholly, sometimes misery in the same way, and sometimes happiness and misery blended together. Whether righteous or sinful, acts are never destroyed (except by enjoyment or endurance of their fruits).[1504] Sometimes, O child, the happiness due to good acts remains concealed and covered in such a way that it does not display itself in the case of the person who is sinking in life's ocean till his sorrows disappear. After sorrow has been exhausted (by endurance), one begins to enjoy (the fruits of) one's good acts. And know, O king, that upon the exhaustion of the fruits of good acts, those of sinful acts begin to manifest themselves. Self-restraint, forgiveness, patience, energy, contentment, truthfulness of speech, modesty, abstention from injury, freedom from the evil practices called vyasana, and cleverness,--these are productive of happiness. No creature is eternally subject to the fruits of his good or bad acts. The man possessed of wisdom should always strive to collect and fix his mind. One never has to enjoy or endure the good and bad acts of another. Indeed, one enjoys and endures the fruits of only those acts that one does oneself. The person that casts off both happiness and misery walks along a particular path (the path, viz., of knowledge). Those men, however, O king, who suffer themselves to be attached to all worldly objects, tread along a path that is entirely different. A person should not himself do that act which, if done by another, would call down his censure. Indeed, by doing an act that one censures in others, one incurs ridicule. A Kshatriya bereft of courage, a Brahmana that takes every kind of food, a Vaisya unendued with exertion (in respect of agriculture and other moneymaking pursuits), a Sudra that is idle (and, therefore, averse to labour), a learned person without good behaviour, one of high birth but destitute of righteous conduct, a Brahmana fallen away from truth, a woman that is unchaste and wicked, a Yogin endued with attachments, one that cooks food for one's own self, an ignorant person employed in making a discourse, a kingdom without a king and a king that cherishes no affection for his subjects and who is destitute of Yoga,--these all, O king, are deserving of pity!'"'"[1505] SECTION CCXCII "'"Parasara said, 'That man who, having obtained this car, viz., his body endued with mind, goes on, curbing with the reins of knowledge the steeds represented by the objects of the senses, should certainly be regarded as possessed of intelligence. The homage (in the form of devotion to and concentrated meditation on the Supreme) by a person whose mind is dependent on itself and who has cast off the means of livelihood is worthy of high praise,--that homage, namely, O regenerate one, which is the result of instructions received from one who has succeeded in transcending acts but not obtained from the mutual discussion of men in the same state of progress.[1506] Having obtained the allotted period of life, O king, with such difficulty, one should not diminish it (by indulgence of the senses). On the other hand, man should always exert, by righteous acts for his gradual advancement.[1507] Among the six different colours that Jiva attains at different periods of his existence, he who falls away from a superior colour deserves obloquy and censure. Hence, one that has attained to the result of good acts should conduct oneself in such a way as to avoid all acts stained by the quality of Rajas.[1508] Man attains to a superior colour by righteous acts. Unable to acquire a superior hue, for such acquisition is extremely difficult, a person, by doing sinful acts only slays himself (by sinking into hell and falling down into an inferior colour). All sinful acts that are committed unconsciously or in ignorance are destroyed by penances. A sinful act, however, that is committed knowingly, produces much sorrow. Hence, one should never commit sinful acts which have for their fruit only sorrow. The man of intelligence would never do an act that is sinful in character even if it leads to the greatest advantage, just as a person that is pure would never touch a Chandala.[1509] How miserable is the fruit I see of sinful acts! Through sin the very vision of the sinner becomes perverse, and he confounds his body and its unstable accompaniments with the Soul.[1510] That foolish man who does not succeed in betaking himself to Renunciation in this world becomes afflicted with great grief when he departs to the next world.[1511] An uncoloured cloth, when dirty, can be cleaned, but not a piece of cloth that is dyed with black; even so, O king, listen to me with care, is it the case with sin. That man who, having knowingly committed sin, acts righteously for expiating that sin, has to enjoy and endure the fruits of his good and bad acts separately.[1512] The utterers of Brahma maintain, under the authority of what has been laid down in the Vedas, that all acts of injury committed in ignorance are cancelled by acts of righteousness. A sin, however, that is committed consciously is never cancelled by righteousness. Thus say the regenerate utterers of Brahma who are conversant with the scriptures of Brahmana. As regards myself, my view is that whatever acts are done, be they righteous or sinful, be they done knowingly or otherwise, remain (and are never destroyed unless their fruits are enjoyed or endured).[1513] Whatever acts are done by the mind with full deliberation, produce, according to their grossness or subtility, fruits that are gross or subtile.[1514] Those acts, however, O thou of righteous soul, which are fraught with great injury, if done in ignorance, do without fail produce consequences and even consequences that lead to hell, with this difference that those consequences are disproportionate in point of gravity to the acts that produce them.[1515] As to those acts (of a doubtful or unrighteous nature) that may be done by the deities or ascetics of reputation, a righteous man should never do their like or, informed of them, should never censure them.[1516] That man who, reflecting with his mind, O king, and ascertaining his own ability, accomplishes righteous acts, certainly obtains what is for his benefit. Water poured into an unbaked vessel gradually becomes less and finally escapes altogether. If kept, however, in a baked vessel, it remains without its quantity being diminished. After the same manner, acts done without reflection with the aid of the understanding do not become beneficial; while acts done with judgment remain with undiminished excellence and yield happiness as their result. If into a vessel containing water other water be poured, the water that was originally there increases in quantity; even so all acts done with judgment, be they equitable or otherwise, only add to one's stock of righteousness. A king should subjugate his foes and all who seek to assert their superiority, and he should properly rule and protect his subjects. One should ignite one's sacred fires and pour libations on them in diverse sacrifices, and retiring in the woods into either one's middle or old age, should live there (practising the duties of the two last modes of life). Endued with self-restraint, and possessed of righteous behaviour, one should look upon all creatures as on one's own self. One should again reverence one's superiors. By the practice of truth and of good conduct, O king, one is sure to obtain happiness.'"'" SECTION CCXCIII "'"Parasara said, 'Nobody in this world does good to another. Nobody is seen to make gifts to others. All persons are seen to act for their own selves. People are seen to cast off their very parents and their uterine brothers when these cease to be affectionate. What need be said then of relatives of other degrees?[1517] Gifts to a distinguished person and acceptance of the gifts made by a distinguished person both lead to equal merit. Of these two acts, however, the making of a gift is superior to the acceptance of a gift.[1518] That wealth which is acquired by proper means and increased also by proper means, should be protected with care for the sake of acquiring virtue. This is an accepted truth. One desirous of acquiring righteousness should never earn wealth by means involving injury to others. One should accomplish one's acts according to one's power, without zealously pursuing wealth. By giving water, whether cold or heated by fire, with a devoted mind, unto a (thirsty) guest, according to the best of one's power, one earns the merit that attaches to the act of giving food to a hungry man. The high-souled Rantideva obtained success in all the worlds by worshipping the ascetics with offerings of only roots and fruits and leaves. The royal son of Sivi also won the highest regions of felicity by having gratified Surya along with his companion with offerings of the same kind. All men, by taking birth, incur debts to gods, guests, servants, Pitris, and their own selves. Everyone should, therefore, do his best for freeing himself from those debts. One frees oneself from one's debt to the great Rishis by studying the Vedas. One pays off one's debts to the gods by performing sacrifices. By performing the rites of the Sraddha one is freed from one's debts to the Pitris. One pays off one's debt to one's fellowmen by doing good offices to them. One pays off the debts one owes to one's own self by listening to Vedic recitations and reflecting on their import, by eating the remnants of sacrifices, and by supporting one's body. One should duly discharge all the acts, from the beginning, that one owes to one's servants. Though destitute of wealth, men are seen to attain to success by great exertions.[1519] Munis by duly adoring the deities and by duly pouring libations of clarified butter on the sacred fire, have been seen to attain to ascetic success. Richika's son became the son of Vishwamitra. By adoring the deities who have shares in sacrificial offerings, with Richs (he attained to success in after life). Usanas became Sukra by having gratified the god of gods. Indeed, by hymning the praises of the goddess (Uma), he sports in the firmament, endued with great splendour.[1520] Then, again, Asita and Devala, and Narada and Parvata, and Karkshivat, and Jamadagni's son Rama, and Tandya possessed of cleansed soul, and Vasishtha, and Jamadagni, and Viswamitra and Atri, and Bharadwaja, and Harismasru, and Kundadhara, and Srutasravas,--these great Rishis, by adoring Vishnu with concentrated minds with the aid of Richs, and by penances, succeeded in attaining to success through the grace of that great deity endued with intelligence. Many undeserving men, by adoring that good deity, obtained great distinction. One should not seek for advancement by achieving any wicked or censurable act. That wealth which is earned by righteous ways is true wealth. Fie on that wealth, however, which is earned by unrighteous means. Righteousness is eternal. It should never, in this world, be abandoned from desire of wealth. That righteous-souled person who keeps his sacred fire and offers his daily adorations to the deities is regarded as the foremost of righteous persons. All the Vedas, O foremost of kings, are established on the three sacred fires (called Dakshina, Garhapatya, and Ahavaniya). That Brahmana is said to possess the sacred fire whose acts exist in their entirety. It is better to at once abandon the sacred fire than to keep it, abstaining the while from acts. The sacred fire, the mother, the father who has begotten, and the preceptor, O tiger among men, should all be duly waited upon and served with humility. That man who, casting off all feelings of pride, humbly waits upon and serves them that are venerable for age, who is possessed of learning and destitute of lust, who looketh upon all creatures with an eye of love, who has no wealth, who is righteous in his acts, and who is destitute of the desire of inflicting any kind of harm (upon any one), that truly respectable man is worshipped in this world by those that are good and pious.'"'"[1521] SECTION CCXCIV "'"Parasara said, 'The lowest order, it is proper, should derive their sustenance from the three other orders. Such service, rendered with affection and reverence, makes them righteous.[1522] If the ancestors of any Sudra were not engaged in service, he should not still engage himself in any other occupation (than service). Truly, he should apply himself to service as his occupation. In my opinion, it is proper for them to associate, under all circumstances, with good men devoted to righteousness, but never with those that are wicked. As in the Eastern hills, jewels and metals blaze with greater splendour in consequence of their adjacence to the Sun, even so the lowest order blazes with splendour in consequence of their association with the good. A piece of white cloth assumes that hue with which it is dyed. Even such is the case with Sudras.[1523] Hence also, one should attach oneself to all good qualities but never to qualities that are evil. The life of human beings in this world is fleeting and transitory. That wise man who, in happiness as also in misery, achieves only what is good, is regarded as a true observer of the scriptures. That man who is endued with intelligence would never do an act which is dissociated from virtue, however high may the advantages be of that act. Indeed, such an act is not regarded as truly beneficial. That lawless king who, snatching thousands of kine from their lawful owners, gives them away (unto deserving persons), acquires no fruit (from that act of giving) beyond an empty sound (expressive of the act he does). On the other hand, he incurs the sin of theft. The Self-born at first created the Being called Dhatri held in universal respect. Dhatri created a son who was engaged in upholding all the worlds.[1524] Worshipping that deity, the Vaisya employs himself, for the means of his support, in agriculture and the rearing of cattle. The Kshatriyas should employ themselves in the task of protecting all the other classes. The Brahmanas should only enjoy. As regards the Sudras, they should engage themselves in the task of humbly and honestly collecting together the articles that are to be offered in sacrifices, and in cleaning altars and other places where sacrifices are to be performed. If each order acts in this way, righteousness would not suffer any diminution. If righteousness is preserved in its entirety, all creatures inhabiting the earth would be happy. Beholding the happiness of all creatures on earth, the deities in heaven become filled with gladness. Hence, that king who, agreeably to the duties laid down for his order, protects the other classes, becomes worthy of respect. Similarly, the Brahmana that is employed in studying the scriptures, the Vaisya that is engaged in earning wealth, and the Sudra that is always engaged in serving the three other classes with concentrated attention, become objects of respect. By conducting themselves in the other ways, O chief of men, each order is said to fall away from virtue. Keeping aside gifts by thousands, even twenty cowries that one may give painfully, having earned them righteously, will be productive of the great benefit. Those persons, O king, who make gifts unto Brahmanas after reverencing them duly, reap excellent fruits commensurate with those gifts. That gift is highly prized which the donor makes after seeking out the donee and honouring him properly. That gift is middling which the donor makes upon solicitation. That gift, however, which is made contemptuously and without any reverence, is said to be very inferior (in point of merit). Even this is what those utterers of the truth, viz., the sages, say. While sinking in this ocean of life, man should always seek to cross that ocean by various means. Indeed, he should so exert himself that he might be freed from the bonds of this world. The Brahmana shines by self restraint; the Kshatriya by victory; the Vaisya by wealth; while the Sudra always shines in glory through cleverness in serving (the three other orders).'"'" SECTION CCXCV "'"Parasara said, 'In the Brahmana, wealth acquired by acceptance of gifts, in the Kshatriya that won by victory in battle, in the Vaisya that obtained by following the duties laid down for his order, and in the Sudra that earned by serving the three other orders, however small its measure, is worthy of praise, and spent for the acquisition of virtue is productive of great benefits. The Sudra is said to be the constant servitor of the three other classes. If the Brahmana, pressed for a living, betakes himself to the duties of either the Kshatriya or the Vaisya, he does not fall off from righteousness. When, however, the Brahmana betakes himself to the duties of the lowest order, then does he certainly fall off. When the Sudra is unable to obtain his living by service of the three other orders, then trade, rearing of cattle, and the practice of the mechanical arts are lawful for him to follow. Appearance on the boards of a theatre and disguising oneself in various forms, exhibition of puppets, the sale of spirits and meat, and trading in iron and leather, should never be taken up for purposes of a living by one who had never before been engaged in those professions every one of which is regarded as censurable in the world. It hath been heard by us that if one engaged in them can abandon them, one then acquires great merit. When one that has become successful in life behaves sinfully in consequence of one's mind being filled with arrogance, one's acts under such circumstances can never pass for authority. It is heard in the Puranas that formerly mankind were self-restrained; that they held righteousness in great esteem; that the practices they followed for livelihood were all consistent with propriety and the injunctions laid down in the scriptures, and that the only punishment that was required for chastising them when they went wrong was the crying of fie on them.[1525] At the time of which we speak, O king, Righteousness, and nothing else, was much applauded among men. Having achieved great progress in righteousness, men in those days worshipped only all good qualities that they saw. The Asuras, however, O child, could not bear that righteousness which prevailed in the world. Multiplying (in both number and energy), the Asuras (in the form of Lust and Wrath) entered the bodies of men. Then was pride generated in men that is so destructive of righteousness. From pride arose arrogance, and from arrogance arose wrath. When men thus became overwhelmed with wrath, conduct implying modesty and shame disappeared from them, and then they were overcome by heedlessness. Afflicted by heedlessness, they could no longer see as before, and as the consequence thereof they began to oppress one another and thereby acquire wealth without any compunction. When men became such, the punishment of only crying fie on offenders failed to be of any effect. Men, showing no reverence for either the gods or Brahmanas, began to indulge their senses to their fill.[1526] At that time the deities repaired to that foremost of gods, viz., Siva, possessed of patience, of multiform aspect, and endued with the foremost of attributes, and sought his protection. The deities imparted unto him their conjoined energy, and thereupon the great god, with a single shaft, felled on the earth those three Asuras, viz., Desire, Wrath, and Cupidity, who were staying in the firmament, along with their very habitations.[1527] The fierce chief of those Asuras possessed of fierce prowess, who had struck the Devas with terror, was also slain by Mahadeva armed with the lance.[1528] When this chief of the Asuras was slain, men once more obtained their proper natures, and once more began to study the Vedas and the other scriptures as was in former times. Then the seven ancient Rishis came forward and installed Vasava as the chief of the gods and the ruler of heaven. And they took upon themselves the task of holding the rod of chastisement over mankind. After the seven Rishis came king Viprithu (to rule mankind), and many other kings, all belonging to the Kshatriya order for separately ruling separate groups of human beings. (When Mahadeva dispelled all evil passions from the minds of creatures) there were, in those ancient times, certain elderly men from whose minds all wicked feelings did not fly away. Hence, in consequence of that wicked state of their minds and of those incidents that were connected with it, there appeared many kings of terrible prowess who began to indulge in only such acts as were fit for Asuras. Those human beings that are exceedingly foolish adhere to those wicked acts, establish them as authorities, and follow them in practice to this day.[1529] For this reason, O king, I say unto thee, having reflected properly with the aid of the scriptures, that one should abstain from all acts that are fraught with injury or malice and seek to acquire a knowledge of the Soul.[1530] The man possessed of wisdom would not seek wealth for the performance of religious rites by ways that are unrighteous and that involve an abandonment of morality. Wealth earned by such means can never prove beneficial. Do thou then become a Kshatriya of this kind. Do thou restrain thy senses, be agreeable to thy friends, and cherish, according to the duties of thy order, thy subjects, servants, and children. Through the union of both prosperity and adversity (in man's life), there arise friendships and animosities. Thousands and thousands of existences are continually revolving (in respect of every Jiva), and in every mode of Jiva's existence these must occur.[1531] For this reason, be thou attached to good qualities of every kind, but never to faults. Such is the character of good qualities that if the most foolish person, bereft of every virtue, hears himself praised for any good quality, he becomes filled with joy. Virtue and sin exist, O king, only among men. These do not exist among creatures other than man. One should therefore, whether in need of food and other necessaries of life or transcending such need, be of virtuous disposition, acquire knowledge, always look upon all creatures as one's own self, and abstain totally from inflicting any kind of injury. When one's mind becomes divested of desire, and when all Darkness is dispelled from it, it is then that one succeeds in obtaining what is auspicious.'"'" SECTION CCXCVI "'"Parasara said, 'I have now discoursed to thee on what the ordinances are of the duties in respect of one that leads the domestic mode of life. I shall now speak to thee of the ordinances about penances. Listen to me as I discourse on the topic. It is generally seen, O king, that in consequence of sentiments fraught with Rajas and Tamas, the sense of meum, born of attachment, springs up in the heart of the householder. Betaking oneself to the domestic mode of life, one acquires kine, fields, wealth of diverse kinds, spouses, children, and servants. One that becomes observant of this mode of life continually casts one's eye upon these objects. Under these circumstances, one's attachments and aversions increase, and one ceases to regard one's (transitory) possessions as eternal and indestructible. When a person becomes overwhelmed by attachment and aversion, and yields himself up to the mastery of earthly objects, the desire of enjoyment then seizes him, taking its rise from heedlessness, O king. Thinking that person to be blessed who has the largest share of enjoyments in this world, the man devoted to enjoyment does not, in consequence of his attachment thereto, see that there is any other happiness besides what waits upon the gratification of the senses. Overwhelmed with cupidity that results from such attachment, he then seeks to increase the number of his relatives and attendants, and for gratifying these latter he seeks to increase his wealth by every means in his power. Filled with affection for children, such a person commits, for the sake of acquiring wealth, acts that he knows to be evil, and gives way to grief if his wealth be lost. Having earned honours and always guarding against the defeat of his plans, he betakes himself to such means as would gratify his desire of enjoyment. At last he meets with destruction as the inevitable consequence of the conduct he pursues. It is well-known, however, that true felicity is theirs that are endued with intelligence, that are utterers of the eternal Brahma, that seek to accomplish only acts that are auspicious and beneficial, and that abstain from all acts that are optional and spring from desire alone.[1532] From loss of all such objects in which are centred our affections, from loss of wealth, O king, and from the tyranny of physical diseases add mental anguish, a person falls into despair. From this despair arises an awakening of the soul. From such awakening proceeds study of the Scriptures. From contemplation of the import of the scriptures, O king, one sees the value of penance. A person possessed of the knowledge of what is essential and what accidental, O king, is very rare,--he, that is, who seeks to undergo penances, impressed with the truth that the happiness one derives from the possession of such agreeable objects as spouses and children leads ultimately to misery.[1533] Penances, O child, are for all. They are ordained for even the lowest order of men (viz., Sudras). Penances set the self-restrained man having the mastery over all his senses on the way to heaven. It was through penances that the puissant Lord of all creatures, O, king, observing vows at particular intervals created all existent objects. The Adityas, the Vasus, the Rudras, Agni, the Aswins, the Maruts, the Viswedevas, the Saddhyas, the Pitris, the Maruts, the Yakshas, the Rakshasas, the Gandharvas, the Siddhas and the other denizens of heaven, and, indeed, all other celestials whatever, O child, have all been crowned with success through their penances. Those Brahmanas whom Brahmana created at the outset, succeeded through their penances in honouring not the Earth alone but the heaven also in which they roved at pleasure. In this world of mortals, they that are kings, and those others that are householders born in high families, have all become what they are only in consequence of their penances.[1534] The silken robes they wear, the excellent ornaments that adorn their persons, the animals and vehicles they ride, and the seats they use are all the result of their penances. The many charming and beautiful women, numbering by thousands, that they enjoy, and their residence in palatial mansions, are all due to their penances. Costly beds and diverse kinds of delicious viands become theirs that act righteously. There is nothing in the three worlds, O scorcher of foes, that penances cannot attain. Even those that are destitute of true knowledge win Renunciation as the consequence of their penances.[1535] Whether in affluent circumstances or miserable, a person should cast off cupidity, reflecting on the scriptures, with the aid of his Mind and understanding, O best of kings. Discontent is productive of misery. (Discontent is the result of cupidity). Cupidity leadeth to the stupefaction of the senses. The senses being stupefied, one's wisdom disappears like knowledge not kept up by continued application. When one's wisdom disappears, one fails to discriminate what is proper from what is improper. Hence, when one's happiness is destroyed (and one becomes subject to misery) one should practise the austerest of penances.[1536] That which is agreeable is called happiness. That which is disagreeable is said to be misery. When penances are practised, the result is happiness. When they are not practised, the result is misery. Behold the fruits of practising and abstaining from penances![1537] By practising stainless penances, people always meet with auspicious consequences of every kind, enjoy all good things, and attain to great fame.[1538] He, however, who by abandoning (stainless penances), betakes himself to penances from desire of fruit, meets with many disagreeable consequences, and disgrace and sorrow of diverse kinds, as the fruits thereof, all of which have worldly possessions for their cause.[1539] Notwithstanding the desirability of practising righteousness, penances, and gifts, the wish springs up in his mind of accomplishing all kinds of forbidden acts. By thus perpetrating diverse kinds of sinful acts, he goes to hell.[1540] That person, O best of men, who, in both happiness and misery, does not fall away from the duties ordained for him, is said to have the scriptures for his eye. It is said that the pleasure one derives from the gratification of one's senses of touch, tongue, sight, scent, and hearing, O monarch, lasts only so long as a shaft urged from the bow takes in falling down upon the earth. Upon the cessation of that pleasure, which is so short-lived, one experiences the most keen agony. It is only the senseless that do not applaud the felicity of Emancipation that is unrivalled. Beholding the misery that attends the gratification of the senses, they that are possessed of wisdom cultivate the virtues of tranquillity and self-restraint for the purpose of attaining to Emancipation. In consequence of their righteous behaviour, wealth, and pleasure can never succeed in afflicting them.[1541] Householders may, without any compunction, enjoy wealth and other possessions that are obtained without Exertion. As regards, however, the duties of their order that are laid down in the scriptures, these, I am of opinion, they should discharge with the aid of Exertion.[1542] The practice of those that are honoured, that are born in high families, and that have their eyes always turned towards the import of the scriptures, is incapable of being followed by those that are sinful and that are possessed of unrestrained minds. All acts that are done by man under the influence of vanity, meet with destruction. Hence, for them that are respectable and truly righteous there is no other act in this world to do than penance.[1543] As regards those house-holders, however, that are addicted to acts, they should, with their whole hearts, set themselves to acts. Following the duties of their order, O king, they should with cleverness and attention perform sacrifices and other religious rites. Indeed, as all rivers, male and female, have their refuge in the Ocean, even so men belonging to all the other orders have their refuge in the householder.'"'" SECTION CCXCVII "'"Janaka said, 'Whence, O great Rishi, does this difference of colour arise among men belonging to the different orders? I desire to know this. Tell me this, O foremost of speakers! The Srutis say that the offspring one begets are one's own self. Originally sprung from Brahmana, all the inhabitants of the earth should have been Brahmanas. Sprung from Brahmanas, why have men betaken themselves to practices distinguished from those of Brahmanas.' "'"Parasara said, 'It is as thou sayst, O king! The offspring procreated are none else than the procreator himself. In consequence, however, of falling away from penance, this distribution into classes of different colours has taken place. When the soil becomes good and the seed also is good, the offspring produced become meritorious. If, however, the soil and seed become otherwise or inferior, the offspring that will be born will be inferior. They that are conversant with the scriptures know that when the Lord of all creatures set himself to create the worlds, some creatures sprang from his mouth, some from his arms, some from his thighs, and some from his feet. They that thus sprang from his mouth, O child, came to be called Brahmanas. They that sprang from his arms were named Kshatriyas. They, O king, that sprang from his thighs were the wealthy class called the Vaisyas. And, lastly, they that were born of his feet were the serving class, viz., the Sudras. Only these four orders of men, O monarch, were thus created. They that belong to classes over and other than these are said to have sprung from an intermixture of these. The Kshatriyas called Atirathas, Amvashthas, Ugras, Vaidehas, Swapakas, Pukkasas, Tenas, Nishadas, Sutas, Magadhas, Ayogas, Karanas, Vratyas, and Chandalas, O monarch, have all sprung from the four original orders by intermixture with one another.' "'"Janaka said, 'When all have sprung from Brahmana alone, how came human beings to have diversity in respect of race? O best of ascetics, an infinite diversity of races is seen in this world. How could men devoted to penances attain to the status of Brahmanas, though of indiscriminate origin? Indeed, those born of pure wombs and those of impure, all became Brahmanas.' "'"Parasara said, 'O king, the status of high-souled persons that succeeded in cleansing their souls by penances could not be regarded as affected by their low births. Great Rishis, O monarch, by begetting children in indiscriminate wombs, conferred upon them the status of Rishis by means of their power of asceticism. My grandfather Vasishtha, Rishyasringa, Kasyapa, Veda, Tandya, Kripa, Kakshivat, Kamatha, and others, and Yavakrita, O king, and Drona, that foremost of speakers, and Ayu, and Matanga, and Datta, and Drupada, and Matsya, all these, O ruler of the Videhas, obtained their respective positions through penance as the means. Originally only four Gotras (races) arose, O monarch, viz., Angiras, Kasyapa, Vasishtha, and Bhrigu. In consequence of acts and behaviour, O ruler of men, many other Gotras came into existence in time. The names of those Gotras have been due to the penances of those that have founded them. Good people use them.' "'"Janaka said, 'Tell me, O holy one, the especial duties of the several orders. Tell me also what their common duties are. Thou art conversant with everything.' "'"Parasara said, 'Acceptance of gifts, officiation at the sacrifices of others, and the teaching of pupils, O king, are the especial duties of the Brahmanas. The protection of the other orders is proper for the Kshatriya. Agriculture, cattle-rearing, and trade are the occupations of the Vaisyas. While service of the (three) regenerate classes is the occupation, O king, of the Sudras. I have now told thee what the especial duties are of the four orders, O monarch. Listen now to me, O child, as I tell thee what the common duties are of all the four orders. Compassion, abstention from injury, heedfulness, giving to others what is due to them, Sraddhas in honour of deceased ancestors, hospitality to guests, truthfulness, subjugation of wrath, contentedness with one's own wedded wives, purity (both internal and external), freedom from malice, knowledge of Self, and Renunciation,--these duties, O king, are common to all the orders. Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, and Vaisyas,--these are the three regenerate orders. All of them have an equal right to the performance of these duties, O foremost of men. These three orders, betaking themselves to duties other than those laid down for them, come to grief, O monarch (and fall down from their own status), even as they go up and acquire great merit by taking for their model some righteous individual of their respective classes who is duly observant of his own duties. The Sudra never falls down (by doing forbidden acts); nor is he worthy of any of the rites of regeneration. The course of duties flowing from the Vedas is not his. He is not interdicted, however, from practising the three and ten duties that are common to all the orders. O ruler of the Videhas, Brahmanas learned in the Vedas, O monarch, regard a (virtuous) Sudra as equal to Brahmana himself. I, however, O king, look upon such a Sudra as the effulgent Vishnu of the universe, the foremost one in all the worlds.[1544] Persons of the lowest order, desiring to exterminate the evil passions (of lust and wrath, etc.) may betake themselves to the observance of the conduct of the good; and, indeed, while so acting, they may earn great merit by performing all rites that lead to advancement, omitting the mantras that are utterable by the other orders while performing the self-same ceremonies. Wherever persons of the lowest order adopt the behaviour of the good, they succeed in attaining to happiness in consequence of which they are able to pass their time in felicity both here and hereafter.' "'"Janaka said, 'O great ascetic, is man stained by his acts or is he stained by the order or class in which he is born? A doubt has arisen in my mind. It behoveth thee to expound this to me.' "'"Parasara said, 'Without doubt, O king, both, viz., acts and birth, are sources of demerit. Listen now to their difference. That man who, though stained by birth, does not commit sin, abstains from sin notwithstanding birth and acts. If, however, a person of superior birth perpetrates censurable acts, such acts stain him. Hence, of the two, viz., acts and birth, acts stain man (more than birth).'[1545] "'"Janaka said, 'What are those righteous acts in this world, O best of all regenerate persons, the accomplishment of which does not inflict any injury upon other creatures?' "'"Parasara said, 'Hear from me, O monarch, about what thou askest me, viz., those acts free from injury which always rescue man. Those who, keeping aside their domestic fires, have dissociated themselves from all worldly attachments, become freed from all anxieties. Gradually ascending step by step, in the path of Yoga, they at last behold the stage of highest felicity (viz., Emancipation).[1546] Endued with faith and humility, always practising self-restraint, possessed of keen intelligence, and abstaining from all acts, they attain to eternal felicity. All classes of men, O king, by properly accomplishing acts that are righteous, by speaking the truth, and by abstaining from unrighteousness, in this world, ascend to heaven. In this there is no doubt.'"'" SECTION CCXCVIII "'"Parasara said, 'The sires, the friends, the preceptor, and the spouses of the preceptors of men that are destitute of devotion are unable to give to those men the merits that attach to devotion. Only they that are firmly devoted to such seniors, that speak what is agreeable to them, that seek their welfare, and that are submissive to them in behaviour, can obtain the merit of devotion. The sire is the highest of deities with his children. It is said that the sire is superior to the mother. The attainment of Knowledge is regarded as the highest acquisition. They that have subjugated the objects of the senses (by attainment of Knowledge), acquire what is highest (viz., Emancipation). That Kshatriya prince who, repairing to the field of battle, receives wounds amid fiery shafts flying in all directions and burns therewith, certainly repairs to regions that are unattainable by the very deities and, arrived there, enjoys the felicity of heaven in perfect contentment. A Kshatriya should not, O king, strike one that is fatigued, or one that is frightened, or one that has been disarmed, or one that is weeping, or one that is unwilling to fight, or one that is unequipped with mail and cars and horse and infantry, or one that has ceased to exert oneself in the fight, or one that is ill, or one that cries for quarter, or one that is of tender years, or one that is old. A Kshatriya should, in battle, fight one of his order who is equipped with mail and cars and horse and infantry, who is ready for exertion and who occupies a position of equality. Death at the hands of one that is equal or of a superior is laudable, but not that at the hands of one that is low, or of one that is a coward, or of one that is a wretch. This is well-known. Death at the hands of one that is sinful, or of one that is of low birth and wicked conduct, O king, is inglorious and leads to hell. One whose period of life has run out cannot be rescued by anybody. Similarly, one whose period of life has not been exhausted can never be slain by any one.[1547] One should prevent one's affectionate seniors from doing unto one (for one's benefit) such acts as are done by menials, as also all such acts as are fraught with injury to others. One should never desire to extend one's own life by taking the lives of others.[1548] When they lay down their lives, it is laudable for all householders observant of the duties of men living in sacred places to lay down their lives on the banks of sacred streams.[1549] When one's period of life becomes exhausted, one dissolves away into the five elements. Sometimes this occurs suddenly (through accidents) and sometimes it is brought about by (natural) causes.[1550] He who, having obtained a body, brings about its dissolution (in a sacred place by means of some inglorious accident), becomes invested with another body of a similar kind. Though set on the path of the Emancipation, he yet becomes a traveller and attains to another body like a person repairing from one room into another.[1551] In the matter of such a man's attainment of a second body (notwithstanding his death in a sacred spot) the only cause is his accidental death. There is no second cause. That new body which embodied creatures obtain (in consequence of the accidental character of their deaths in sacred places) comes into existence and becomes attached to Rudras and Pisachas.[1552] Learned men, conversant with Adhyatma, say that the body is a conglomeration of arteries and sinews and bones and much repulsive and impure matter and a compound of (primal) essences, and the senses and objects of the senses born of desire, all having an outer cover of skin close to them. Destitute (in reality) of beauty and other accomplishments, this conglomeration, through force of the desires of a previous life, assumes a human form.[1553] Abandoned by the owner, the body becomes inanimate and motionless. Indeed, when the primal ingredients return to their respective natures, the body mingles with the dust. Caused by its union with acts, this body reappears under circumstances determined by its acts. Indeed, O ruler of the Videhas, under whatever circumstances this body meets with dissolution, its next birth, determined by those circumstances, is seen to enjoy and endure the fruits of all its past acts. Jiva, after dissolution of the body it inhabited, does not, O king, take birth in a different body immediately. It roves through the sky for some time like a spacious cloud. Obtaining a new receptacle, O monarch, it then takes birth again. The soul is above the mind. The mind is above the senses. Mobile creatures, again, are foremost of all created objects. Of all mobile creatures those that have two legs are superior. Amongst two-legged creatures, those that are regenerate are superior. Amongst those that are regenerate they that are possessed of wisdom are superior. Amongst them that are possessed of wisdom they that have succeeded in acquiring a knowledge of the soul are superior. Amongst those that are possessed of a knowledge of the soul, they that are endued with humility are superior. Death follows birth in respect of all men. This is settled. Creatures, influenced by the attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas, pursue acts which have an end.[1554] That man is regarded as righteous who meets with dissolution when the Sun is in the northern declension, and at a time and under a constellation both of which are sacred and auspicious. He is righteous who, having cleansed himself of all sins and accomplished all his acts according to the best of his power and having abstained from giving pain to any man, meets with death when it comes. The death that one meets with by taking poison, by hanging, by burning, at the hands of robbers, and at the teeth of animals, is said to be an inglorious one.[1555] Those men that are righteous never incur such or similar deaths even if they be afflicted with mental and physical diseases of the most agonising kind. The lives of the righteous, O king, piercing through the Sun, ascend into the regions of Brahma. The lives of those that are both righteous and sinful rove in the middle regions. The lives of those that are sinful sink into the lowest depths. There is only one foe (of man) and not another. That foe is identifiable with ignorance, O king. Overwhelmed by it, one is led to perpetrate acts that are frightful and exceedingly cruel. That foe for resisting which one should put forth one's power by waiting upon the aged according to the duties laid down in the Srutis--that foe which cannot be overcome except by steady endeavours,--meets with destruction, O king, only when it is crushed by the shafts of wisdom.[1556] The man desirous of achieving merit should at first study the Vedas and observe penances, becoming a Brahmacharin. He should next, entering the domestic mode of life, perform the usual Sacrifices. Establishing his race, he should then enter the forest, restraining his senses, and desirous of winning Emancipation. One should never emasculate oneself by abstaining from any enjoyment. Of all births, the status of humanity is preferable even if one has to become a Chandala. Indeed, O monarch, that order of birth (viz., humanity) is the foremost, since by becoming a human being one succeeds in rescuing one's self by meritorious acts. Men always perform righteous acts, O lord, guided by the authority of the Srutis, so that they may not fall away from the status of humanity. That man who, having attained to the status of humanity that is so difficult of attainment, indulges in malice, disregards righteousness and yields himself up to desire, is certainly betrayed by his desires.[1557] That man who looks upon all creatures with eyes guided by affection, regarding them worthy of being cherished with loving aid, who disregards all kinds of wealth, who offers them consolation, gives them food, address them in agreeable words, and who rejoices in their happiness and grieves in their griefs, has never to suffer misery in the next world. Repairing to the Saraswati, the Naimisha woods, the Pushkara waters, and the other sacred spots on earth, one should make gifts, practise renunciation, render one's aspect amiable, O king, and purify one's body with baths and penances. Those men who meet with death within their houses should have the rites of cremation performed upon their persons. Their bodies should be taken to the crematorium on vehicles and there they should be burnt according to the rites of purification that have been laid down in the scriptures. Religious rites, beneficial ceremonies, the performance of sacrifices, officiation at the sacrifices of others, gifts, the doing of other meritorious acts, the performance, according to the best of one's power, of all that has been ordained in the case of one's deceased ancestors,--all these one does for benefiting one's own self. The Vedas with their six branches, and the other scriptures, O king, have been created for the good of him who is of stainless acts.'" "'Bhishma continued, "All this was said by that high-souled sage unto the ruler of the Videhas, O king, in days of old for his benefit."'" SECTION CCXCIX "'Bhishma said, "Once again Janaka, the ruler of Mithila, questioned the high-souled Parasara endued with certain knowledge in respect of all duties. "'"Janaka said, 'What is productive of good? What is the best path (for living creatures)? What is that which being accomplished is never destroyed? What is that spot repairing whither one has not to come back? Tell me all this, O thou of high intelligence!' "'"Parasara said, 'Dissociation (from attachments) is the root of what is good.[1558] Knowledge is the highest path. Penances practised are never destroyed, Gifts also, made to deserving persons, are not lost. When one, breaking the bonds of sin, begins to take pleasure in righteousness, and when one makes that highest of all gifts, viz., the pledge of harmlessness unto all creatures, then does one achieve success. He who gives away thousands of kine and hundreds of horses (to deserving persons), and who gives unto all creatures the pledge of harmlessness, receives in return the pledge of harmlessness from all. One may live in the midst of all kinds of wealth and enjoyment, yet, if blessed with intelligence, one does not live in them: while he that is destitute of intelligence lives wholly in objects of enjoyment that are even unsubstantial.[1559] Sin cannot attach to a man of wisdom even as water cannot drench the leaves of the lotus. Sin adheres more firmly to him who is without attachment even as lac and wood adhere firmly to each other. Sin, which cannot be extinguished except by endurance of its fruits, never abandons the doer. Verily, the doer, when the time comes, has to endure the consequences arising from it.[1560] They, however, that are of cleansed souls and that realise the existence of Brahma, are never afflicted by the fruits of their acts. Heedless in respect of one's senses of knowledge and of action, one that is not conscious of one's wicked acts, and whose heart is attached to both good and bad, becomes afflicted with great fear. One who at all times becomes entirely freed from attachments and who completely subjugates the passion of wrath, is never stained by sin even if he lives in the enjoyment of worldly objects. As a dyke built across a river, if not washed away, causes the waters thereof to swell up, even so the man who, without being attached to objects of enjoyments, creates the dyke of righteousness whose materials consist of the limitations set down in the scriptures, has never to languish. On the other hand, his merits and penances increase. As the pure gem (called Suryakanta) absorbs and attracts to itself, the rays of the Sun, even so, O tiger among kings, does Yoga proceed by help of concentrated attention.[1561] As sesame seeds, in consequence of their repeated intermingling with (fragrant) flowers, become in respect of quality very agreeable, even so the quality of Sattwa arises in men in proportion to the measure of their association with persons of cleansed souls.[1562] When one becomes desirous of dwelling in heaven, one casts off one's spouses and wealth and rank and vehicles and diverse kinds of good acts. Indeed, when one attains to such a frame of mind, one's understanding is said to be dissociated from the objects of the senses. That man (on the other hand) who, with understanding attached to the objects of the senses, becomes blind to what is for his real good, is dragged (to his ruin) by his heart which runs after all worldly objects, like a fish (dragged to its ruin) by the bait of meat. Like unto the body that is made up of different limbs and organs, all mortal creatures exist depending upon one another. They are as destitute of vigour as the pith of the banana plant. (Left to themselves) they sink in the world's ocean like a boat (made of weak materials). There is no fixed time for the acquisition of righteousness. Death waits for no man. When man is constantly running towards the jaws of Death, the accomplishment of righteous acts is proper at all times. Like a blind man who, with attention, is capable of moving about his own house, the man of wisdom, with mind set on Yoga, succeeds in proceeding along the track (he should follow).[1563] It has been said that death arises in consequence of birth. Birth is subject to the sway of death. One unacquainted with the course of the duties of Emancipation revolves like a wheel between birth and death, unable to free oneself from that fate. One who walketh along the track recommended by the understanding earns happiness both here and hereafter. The Diverse are fraught with misery, while the Few are productive of happiness. Fruits represented by the not-Soul are said to constitute the Diverse. Renunciation is (said to constitute the Few and that is) productive of the soul's happiness.[1564] As the lotus stalk quickly leaves the mire attached to it, even so the Soul can speedily cast off the mind.[1565] It is the mind that at first inclines the Soul to Yoga. The latter then merges the former into itself. When the Soul achieves success in Yoga, it then beholds itself uninvested with attributes.[1566] Engaged amid the objects of the senses, one who regards such engagement to be one's employment falleth away from one's true employment in consequence of such devotion to those objects. The soul of the wise man attains, through its righteous acts, to a state of high felicity in heaven, while that of the man who is not possessed of wisdom sinks very low or obtains birth among intermediate creatures. As a liquid substance, if kept in a baked earthen vessel, does not escape therefrom but remains undiminished, after the same manner one's body with which one has undergone austerities enjoys (without rejecting) all objects of enjoyment (up to what are contained in the region of Brahma himself). Verily, that man who enjoys worldly objects can never be emancipated. That man, on the other hand, who casts off such objects (in this world), succeeds in enjoying great happiness hereafter. Like one afflicted with congenital blindness and, therefore, incapable of seeing his way, the sensualist, with soul confined in an opaque case, seems to be surrounded by a mist and fails to see (the true object for which he should strive). As merchants, going across the sea, make profits proportioned to their capital, even so creatures, in this world of mortals, attain to ends according to their respective acts. Like a snake devouring air, Death wanders in this world made up of days and nights in the form of Decrepitude and devours all creatures. A creature, when born, enjoys or endures the fruits of acts done by him in his previous lives. There is nothing agreeable or disagreeable which one enjoys or endures without its being the result of the acts one has done in one's previous lives. Whether lying or proceeding, whether sitting idly engaged in his occupations, in whatever state a man may be, his acts (of past lives) good or bad always approach him. One that has attained to the other shore of the ocean, wishes not to cross the main for returning to the shore whence he had sailed.[1567] As the fisherman, when he wishes, raises with the help of his chord his boat sunk in the waters (of a river or lake), after the same manner the mind, by the aid of Yoga-contemplation, raises Jiva sunk in the world's ocean and unemancipated from consciousness of body.[1568] As all rivers running towards the ocean, unite themselves with it, even so the mind, when engaged in Yoga, becomes united with primal Prakriti.[1569] Men whose minds become bound by diverse chains of affection, and who are engulfed in ignorance, meet with destruction like houses of sand in water.[1570] That embodied creature who regards his body as only a house and purity (both external and internal) as its sacred water, and who walks along the path of the understanding, succeeds in attaining to happiness both here and hereafter.[1571] The Diverse are productive of misery; while the Few are productive of happiness. The Diverse are the fruits represented by the not-Soul. Renunciation (which is identical with Few) is productive of the soul's benefit.[1572] One's friends who spring up from one's determination, and one's kinsmen whose attachment is due to (selfish) reasons, one's spouses and sons and servants, only devour one's wealth. Neither the mother, nor the father, can confer the slightest benefit upon one in the next world. Gifts constitute the diet upon which one can subsist. Indeed, one must have to enjoy the fruits of one's own acts.[1573] The mother, the son, the sire, the brother, the wife, and friends, are like lines traced with gold by the side of gold itself.[1574] All acts, good and bad, done in past lives come to the doer. Knowing that everything one enjoys or endures at present is the result of the acts of past lives, the soul urges the understanding on different directions (so that it may act in such a way as to avoid all unpleasant fruits). Relying on earnest endeavour, and equipped with proper aids, he who sets himself to accomplish his tasks never meets with failure. As the rays of light never abandon the Sun, even so prosperity never abandons one who is endued with undoubting faith. That act which a man of stainless soul does with faith and earnestness, with the aid of proper means, without pride, and with intelligence, becomes never lost. A creature obtains from the very time of his abode in the mother's womb all his own acts good and bad that were achieved by him in his past lives. Death, which is irresistible, aided by Time which brings about the destruction of life, leads all creatures to their end like wind scattering the dust of sawed timber.[1575] Through acts good and bad performed by himself in his past lives, man obtains gold and animals and spouses, and children, and honour of birth, and possessions of value, and his entire affluence.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus addressed conformably to the truth by the sage, Janaka, that foremost of righteous persons, O king, heard everything the Rishi said and obtained great happiness from it."'" SECTION CCC "'Yudhishthira said, "O grandsire, learned men praise truth, self-restraint, forgiveness, and wisdom. What is thy opinion of these virtues?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection I shall recite to thee an old narrative, O Yudhishthira, of the discourse between the Sadhyas and a Swan. Once on a time the Unborn and eternal Lord of all creatures (viz., Brahman), assuming the form of a golden Swan, wandered through the three worlds till in course of his wanderings he came upon the Sadhyas. "'"The Sadhyas said, 'O lord, we are the deities called Sadhyas. We like to question thee. Indeed, we would ask thee about the religion of Emancipation. Thou art well-acquainted with it. We have heard, O bird, that thou art possessed of great learning, and eloquent and wise of speech. O bird, what dost thou think is the highest of all objects? O high-souled one, in what does thy mind find pleasure? Do thou, therefore, O foremost of birds, instruct us as to what that one act is which thou regardest as the foremost of all acts, and by doing which, O chief of the feathery creation, one may soon be freed from all bonds.' "'"The Swan said, 'Ye who have drunk Amrita, I have heard that one should have recourse to these, viz., penances, self-restraint, truth, and subjugation of the mind. Untying all the knots of the heart, one should also bring under one's control both what is agreeable and what is disagreeable.[1576] One should not wound the vitals of others. One should not be an utterer of cruel speeches. One should never take scriptural lectures from a person that is mean. One should never utter such words as inflict pain on others, as cause others to burn (with misery), and as lead to hell. Wordy shafts fall from the lips. Pierced therewith one (to whom they are directed) burns incessantly. Those shafts do not strike any part other than the very vitals of the person aimed. Hence he that is possessed of learning should never aim them at others. If a person deeply pierces a man of wisdom with wordy shafts, the wise man should then adopt peace (without giving way to wrath). The man who, though sought to be angered, rejoices without yielding to anger, taketh away from the provoker all his merits. That man of righteous soul, who, full of joy and freed from malice, subdues his blazing wrath which, if indulged, would lead him to speak ill of others and verily become his foe, takes away the merits of others. As regards myself, I never answer when another speaks ill of me. If assailed, I always forgive the assault. The righteous are of opinion that forgiveness and truth and sincerity and compassion are the foremost (of all virtues). Truth is the arcanum of the Vedas. The arcanum of Truth is self-restraint. The arcanum of self-restraint is Emancipation. This is the teaching of all the scriptures. I regard that person to be Brahmana and Muni who subjugates the rising impulse of speech, the impulse of wrath appearing in the mind, the impulse of thirst (after unworthy things), and the impulses of the stomach and the organ of pleasure. One who does not yield to wrath is superior to one who does. One who practises renunciation is superior to one who does not. One who possesses the virtues of manhood is superior to one who has them not. One who is endued with knowledge is superior to one who is destitute of it. Assailed with harsh speeches one should not assail in return. Indeed, one who, under such circumstances, renounces wrath, succeeds in burning the assailant and taking away all his merits.[1577] That person who when assailed with harsh speeches does not utter a harsh word in reply, who when praised does not utter what is agreeable to him that praises, who is endued with such fortitude as not to strike in return when struck and not to even wish evil to the striker, finds his companionship always coveted by the gods. He that is sinful should be forgiven as if he were righteous, by one that is insulted, struck, and calumniated. By acting in this way one attains to success. Though all my objects have been fulfilled, yet I always wait reverentially on those that are righteous. I have no thirst. My wrath hath been suppressed. Seduced by covetousness I do not fall away from the path of righteousness. I do not also approach any one (with solicitations) for wealth.[1578] If cursed, I do not curse in return. I know that self-restraint is the door of immortality. I disclose unto you a great mystery. There is no status that is superior to that of humanity. Freed from sin like the Moon from murky clouds, the man of wisdom, shining in resplendence, attains to success by patiently waiting for his time. A person of restrained soul, who becomes the object of adoration with all by becoming the foremost of the supporting pillars of the universe, and towards whom only agreeable words are spoken by all, attains to the companionship of the deities. Revilers never come forward to speak of the merits of a person as they speak of his demerits. That person whose speech and mind are properly restrained and always devoted to the Supreme, succeeds in attaining to the fruits of the Vedas, Penances, and Renunciation. The man of wisdom should never revile (in return) those that are destitute of merit, by uttering their dispraise and by insults. He should not extol others (being extolled by them) and should never injure themselves. The man endued with wisdom and learning regards revilement as nectar. Reviled, he sleeps without anxiety. The reviler, on the other hand, meets with destruction. The sacrifices that one performs in anger, the gifts one makes in anger, the penances one undergoes in anger, and the offerings and libations one makes to the sacred fire in anger, are such that their merits are robbed by Yama. The toil of an angry man becomes entirely fruitless. Ye foremost of immortals, that person is said to be conversant with righteousness whose four doors, viz., the organ of pleasure, the stomach, the two arms, and speech, are well-restrained. That person who, always practising truth and self-restraint and sincerity and compassion and patience and renunciation, becomes devoted to the study of the Vedas, does not covet what belongs to others, and pursues what is good with a singleness of purpose, succeeds in attaining to heaven. Like a calf sucking all the four teats of its dam's udders, one should devote oneself to the practice of all these virtues. I do not know whether anything exists that is more sacred than Truth. Having roved among both human beings and the deities, I declare it that Truth is the only means for reaching heaven even as a ship is the only means for crossing the ocean. A person becomes like those with whom he dwells, and like those whom he reverences, and like to what he wishes to be. If a person waits with reverence on him who is good or him who is otherwise, if he waits with reverence on a sage possessed of ascetic merit or on a thief, passes under his way and catches his hue like a piece of cloth catching the dye in which it is steeped. The deities always converse with those that are possessed of wisdom and goodness. They, therefore, never entertain the wish for even seeing the enjoyments in which men take pleasure. The person who knows that all objects of enjoyment (which human beings cherish) are characterised by vicissitudes, has few rivals, and is superior to the very Moon and the Wind.[1579] When the Purusha that dwells in one's heart is unstained, and walks in the path of the righteous, the gods take a pleasure in him. The gods from a distance cast off those that are always devoted to the gratification of their organs of pleasure and the stomach, that are addicted to thieving, and that always indulge in harsh speeches, even if they expiate their offences by performing the proper rites. The gods are never pleased with one of mean soul, with one who observes no restrictions in the matter of food, and with one who is of sinful deeds. On the other hand, the gods associate with those men that are observant of the vow of truth, that are grateful, and that are engaged in the practice of righteousness. Silence is better than speech. To speak the truth is better than silence. Again to speak truth that is connected with righteousness is better than to speak the truth. To speak that which, besides being true and righteous, is agreeable, is better than to speak truth connected with righteousness.' "'"The Sadhyas said, 'By what is this world covered? For what reason does one fail to shine? For what cause do people cast off their friends? For what reason do people fail to attain to heaven?' "'"The Swan said, 'The world is enveloped by (the darkness of) Ignorance. Men fail to shine in consequence of malice. People cast off friends, induced by covetousness. Men fail to attain to heaven in consequence of attachment.' "'"The Sadhyas said, 'Who alone among the Brahmanas is always happy? Who alone amongst them can observe the vow of silence though dwelling in the midst of many? Who alone amongst them, though weak, is still regarded as strong? And who alone amongst them does not quarrel?' "'"The Swan said, 'He alone amongst the Brahmanas that is possessed of wisdom is always happy. He alone amongst the Brahmanas that is possessed of wisdom succeeds in observing the vow of silence, though dwelling in the midst of many. He alone amongst the Brahmanas who is possessed of wisdom, though actually weak, is regarded as strong. He alone amongst them that has wisdom succeeds in avoiding quarrel.'[1580] "'"The Sadhyas said, 'In what consists the divinity of the Brahmanas? In what their purity? In what their impurity? And in what their status of humanity?' "'"The Swan said, 'In the study of the Vedas is the divinity of the Brahmanas. In their vows and observances is their purity. In obloquy is their impurity. In death is their humanity.'"[1581] "'Bhishma continued, "Thus have I recited to thee excellent narrative of the discourse between the Sadhyas (and the Swan). The body (both gross and subtile) is the origin of acts, and existence or Jiva is truth."'" SECTION CCCI "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth thee to explain to me, O sire, what the difference is between the Sankhya and the Yoga system of philosophy. O foremost one of Kuru's race, everything is known to thee, O thou that art conversant with all duties!" "'Bhishma said, "The followers of Sankhya praise the Sankhya system and those regenerate persons that are Yogins praise the Yoga system. For establishing the superiority of their respective systems, each calls his own system to be the better. Men of wisdom devoted to Yoga assign proper and very good reasons, O crusher of foes, for showing that one that does not believe in the existence of God cannot attain to Emancipation. Those regenerate persons, again, that are believers in the Sankhya doctrines advance good reasons for showing that one, by acquiring true knowledge of all ends, becomes dissociated from all worldly objects, and, after departing from this body, it is plain, becomes emancipated and that it cannot be otherwise. Men of great wisdom have thus expounded the Sankhya philosophy of Emancipation. When reasons are thus balanced on both sides, those that are assigned on that side which one is otherwise inclined to adopt as one's own, should be accepted. Indeed, those words that are said on that side should be regarded as beneficial. Good men may be found on both sides. Persons like thee may adopt either opinion. The evidences of Yoga are addressed to the direct ken of the senses; those of Sankhya are based on the scriptures. Both systems of philosophy are approved by me, O Yudhishthira. Both those systems of science, O king, have my concurrence and are concurred in by those that are good and wise. If practised duly according to the instructions laid down, both would, O king, cause a person to attain to the highest end. In both systems purity is equally recommended as also compassion towards all creatures, O sinless one. In both, again, the observance of vows has been equally laid down. Only the scriptures that point out their paths are different." "'Yudhishthira said, "If the vows, the purity, the compassion, and the fruits thereof recommended in both systems be the same, tell me, O grandsire, for what reason then are not their scriptures (in respect of the paths recommended) the same?" "'Bhishma said, "By casting off, through the aid of Yoga, these five faults, viz., attachment, heedlessness, affection, lust, and wrath, one attains to Emancipation. As large fishes, breaking through the net, pass into their own element (for ranging in felicity), after the same manner, Yogins (breaking through lust and wrath, etc.) become cleansed of all sins and attain to the felicity of Emancipation. As powerful animals, breaking through the nets in which hunters enmesh them, escape into the felicity of freedom, after the same manner, Yogins, freed from all bonds, attain to the sinless path that leads to Emancipation. Truly, O king, breaking through the bonds born of cupidity, Yogins, endued with strength, attain to the sinless and auspicious and high path of Emancipation. Feeble animals, O monarch, entangled in nets, are without doubt, destroyed. Even such is the case with persons destitute of the puissance of Yoga. As weak fishes, O son of Kunti, fallen into the net, become entangled in it, even so, O monarch, men destitute of the puissance of Yoga, encounter destruction (amid the bonds of the world). As birds, O chastiser of foes, when entangled in the fine nets of fowlers (if weak) meet with their ruin but if endued with strength effect their escape, after the same manner does it happen with Yogins, O chastiser of foes. Bound by the bonds of action, they that are weak meet with destruction, while they that are possessed of strength break through them. A small and weak fire, O king, becomes extinguished when large logs of timber are placed upon it. Even so the Yogin that is weak, O king, meets with ruin (when brought in contact with the world and its attachments). The same fire, however, O monarch, when it becomes strong, would (without being extinguished) burn with the aid of the wind, the whole Earth. After the same manner, the Yogin, when grown in strength, burning with energy, and possessed of might, is capable of scorching the entire Universe like the Sun that rises at the time of the universal dissolution. As a weak man, O king, is swept away by a current, even so is a weak Yogin helplessly carried away by objects of the senses. An elephant withstands a mighty current. After the same manner, a Yogin, having acquired Yoga-puissance, withstands all objects of the senses. Independent of all things, Yogins, endued with Yoga-puissance and invested with lordship, enter into (the hearts of) the very lords of creation, the Rishis, the deities, and the great Beings in the universe. Neither Yama, nor the Destroyer, nor Death himself of terrible prowess, when angry, ever succeeds in prevailing over the Yogin, O king, who is possessed of immeasurable energy. The Yogin, acquiring Yoga-puissance, can create thousands of bodies and with them wander over the earth. Some amongst them enjoy objects of the senses and then once more set themselves to the practice of the austerest penances, and once again, like the Sun (withdrawing his rays), withdraw themselves from such penances.[1582] The Yogin, who is possessed of strength and whom bonds bind not, certainly succeeds in attaining to Emancipation. I have now discoursed to thee, O monarch, on all these powers of Yoga. I shall once more tell thee what the subtile powers of Yoga are with their indications. Hear, O chief of Bharata's race, the subtile indications of the Dharana and the Samadhi of the Soul (such as Yoga brings about).[1583] As a bowman who is heedful and attentive succeeds in striking the aim, even so the Yogin, with absorbed soul, without doubt, attains to Emancipation. As a man fixing his mind on a vessel full of some liquid (placed on his head) heedfully ascends a flight of steps, even so the Yogin, fixed and absorbed in his soul, cleanses it and makes it as effulgent as the Sun. As a boat, O son of Kunti, that is tossed on the bosom of the sea is very soon taken by a heedful boatman to the other shore, even so the man of knowledge by fixing his soul in Samadhi, attains to Emancipation, which is so difficult to acquire, after casting off his body, O monarch. As a heedful charioteer, O king, having yoked good steeds (unto his car) takes the car-warrior to the spot he wishes, even so the Yogin, O monarch, heedful in Dharana, soon attains to the highest spot (viz., Emancipation) like a shaft let off from the bow reaching the object aimed at. The Yogin who stays immovably after having entered his self into the soul, destroys his sins and obtains that indestructible spot which is the possession of those that are righteous. That Yogin who, heedfully observant of high vows, properly unites, O king, his Jiva-soul with the subtile Soul in the navel, the throat, the head, the heart, the chest, the sides, the eye, the ear, and the nose, burns all his acts good and bad of even mountain-like proportions, and having recourse to excellent Yoga, attains to Emancipation." "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth thee to tell me, O grandsire, what the kinds of diet are by taking which, and what the things are by conquering which, the Yogin, O Bharata, acquires Yoga-puissance." "'Bhishma continued, "Engaged, O Bharata, in subsisting upon broken grains of rice and sodden cakes of sesame, and abstaining from oil and butter, the Yogin acquires Yoga-puissance. By subsisting for a long time on powdered barley unmixed with any liquid substance, and by confining himself to only one meal a day, the Yogin, of cleansed soul, acquires Yoga-puissance. By drinking only water mixed with milk, first only once during the day, then once during a fortnight, then once during a month, then once during three months, and then once during a whole year, the Yogin acquires Yoga-puissance. By abstaining entirely from meat, O king, the Yogin of cleansed soul acquires puissance.[1584] By subjugating lust, and wrath, and heat, and cold and rain, and fear, and grief, and the breath, and all sounds that are agreeable to men, and objects of the senses, and the uneasiness, so difficult to conquer, that is born of abstention from sexual congress, and thirst that is so terrible, O king, and the pleasures of touch, and sleep, and procrastination that is almost unconquerable, O best of kings, high-souled Yogins, divested of attachments, and possessed of great wisdom, aided by their understandings, and equipped with wealth of contemplation and study, cause the subtile soul to stand confessed in all its glory. This high (Yoga) path of learned Brahmanas is exceedingly difficult to tread. No one can walk along this path with ease. That path is like a terrible forest which abounds with innumerable snakes and crawling vermin, with (concealed) pits occurring every where, without water for slaking one's thirst, and full of thorns, and inaccessible on that account. Indeed, the path of Yoga is like a road along which no edibles occur, which runs through a desert having all its trees burnt down in a conflagration, and which has been rendered unsafe by being infested with bands of robbers. Very few young men can pass safely through it (for reaching the goal). Like unto a path of this nature, few Brahmanas can tread alone the Yoga-path with ease and comfort. That man who, having betaken himself to this path, ceases to go forward (but turns back after having made some progress), is regarded as guilty of many faults. Men of cleansed souls, O lord of Earth, can stay with ease upon Yoga-contemplation which is like the sharp edge of a razor. Persons of uncleansed souls, however, cannot stay on it. When Yoga-contemplation becomes disturbed or otherwise obstructed, it can never lead the Yogin to an auspicious end even as a vessel that is without a captain cannot take the passengers to the other shore. That man, O son of Kunti, who practises Yoga-contemplation according to due rites, succeeds in casting off both birth and death, and happiness and sorrow. All this that I have told thee has been stated in the diverse treatises bearing upon Yoga. The highest fruits of Yoga are seen in persons of the regenerate order. That highest fruit is identification with Brahma. The high-souled Yogin, possessed of greatness, can enter into and come out of, at his will, Brahma himself who is the lord of all deities, and the boon-giving Vishnu, and Bhava, and Dharma, and the six-faced Kartikeya, and the (spiritual) sons of Brahmana, the quality of Darkness that is productive of much pain, and that of Passion, and that of Sattwa which is pure, and Prakriti which is the highest, and the goddess Siddhi who is the spouse of Varuna, and all kinds of energy, and all enduring patience, and the bright lord of stars in the firmament with the stars twinkling all around, and the Viswas, and the (great) snakes, and the Pitris, and all the mountains and hills, and the great and terrible oceans, and all the rivers, and the rain-charged clouds, and serpents, and trees, and Yakshas, and the cardinal and subsidiary points of the compass, and the Gandharvas, and all male persons and all female ones also. This discourse, O king, that is connected with the Supreme Being of mighty energy should be regarded as auspicious. The Yogin has Narayana for his soul. Prevailing over all things (through his contemplation of the Supreme deity), the high-souled Yogin is capable of creating all things."'" The end of the Santi Parva [, Part two of three]. SECTION CCCII "'Yudhishthira said, "O king thou hast duly propounded unto me, in the way in which it should be, the path of Yoga which is approved by the wise, after the manner of a loving preceptor unto his pupil. I ask now about the principles of the Sankhya philosophy. Do thou discourse to me on those principles in their entirety. Whatever knowledge exists in the three worlds is known to thee!" "'Bhishma said, "Listen now to what the subtile principles are of the followers of the Sankhya doctrine have been established by all the great and puissant Yatis having Kapila their first. In that doctrine O chief of men, no errors are discoverable. Many, indeed, are its merits. In fact, there is no fault in it. Comprehending with the aid of knowledge that all objects exist with faults, indeed, understanding that the objects--so difficult to cast off--with which human beings and Pisachas and Rakshasas and Yakshas and snakes and Gandharvas and pitris and those that are wandering in the intermediate orders of beings (such as birds and animals) and great birds (such as Garuda and others) and the Maruts and royal sages and regenerate sages and Asuras and Viswedevas and the celestial Rishis and Yogins invested with supreme puissance and the Prajapatis and Brahman himself are engaged, and understanding truly what the highest limit is of one's period of existence in this world, and apprehending also the great truth, O foremost of eloquent men, about what is called felicity here, having a clear knowledge of what the sorrows are that overtake when the hour comes all those that are concerned with (transitory) objects and knowing full well the sorrows of those that have fallen into the intermediate orders of being and of those that have sunk into hell, perceiving all the merits and all the faults of heaven, O Bharta, and all the demerits that attach to the declarations of the Vedas and all the excellencies that are connected with them recognising the faults and merits of the Yoga and the Sankhya systems of philosophy, realizing also that the quality of Sattwa has ten properties, that of Rajas has nine, and that of Tamas has eight, that the Understanding has seven properties, the Mind has six, and Space has five, and once more conceiving that the Understanding has four properties and Tamas has three, and the Rajas has two and Sattwa has one, and truly apprehending the path that is followed by all objects when destruction overtakes them and what the course is of self knowledge, the Sankhyas, possessed of knowledge and experience and exalted by their perceptions of causes, and acquiring thorough auspiciousness, attain to the felicity of Emancipation like the rays of the Sun, or the Wind taking refuge in Space.[1585] Vision is attached to form, the sense of scent to smell, the ear to sound, the tongue to juices, and the skin (or body) to touch. The wind has for its refuge Space. Stupefaction has Tamas (Darkness) for its refuge. Cupidity has the objects of the senses for its refuge. Vishnu is attached to (the organs of) motion. Sakra is attached to (the organs of) strength. The deity of fire is attached to the stomach, Earth is attached to the Waters. The Waters have Heat (or fire) for their refuge. Heat attaches itself to the Wind; and the wind has Space for its refuge; and Space has Mahat for its refuge, and Mahat has the Understanding for its foundation. The Understanding has its refuge in Tamas; Tamas has Rajas for its refuge; Rajas is founded upon Sattwa; and Sattwa is attached to the Soul. The soul has the glorious and puissant Narayana for its refuge. That glorious deity has Emancipation for his refuge. Emancipation is independent of all refuge. Knowing that this body, that is endued with six and ten possessions, is the result of the quality of Sattwa, understanding fully the nature of the physical organism and the character of the Chetana that dwells within it, recognising the one existent Being that lives in the body viz., the Soul, which stands aloof from every concern of the body and in which no sin can attach, realising the nature of that second object, viz., the acts of persons attached to the objects of the senses, understanding also the character of the senses and the sensual objects which have their refuge in the Soul, appreciating the difficulty of Emancipation and the scriptures that bear upon it knowing fully the nature of the vital breaths called Prana, Apana, Samana, Vyana, and Udana, as also the two other breaths, viz., the one going downward and the other moving upward, indeed, knowing those seven breaths ordained to accomplish seven different functions, ascertaining the nature of the Prajapatis and the Rishis and the high paths, many in number, of virtue or righteousness, and the seven Rishis and the innumerable royal Rishis, O scorcher of foes, and the great celestial Rishis and the other regenerate Rishis endued with the effulgence of the Sun, beholding all these falling away from their puissance in course of many long ages, O monarch, hearing of the destruction of even of all the mighty beings in the universe, understanding also the inauspicious end that is attained, O king, by creatures of sinful acts, and the miseries endured by those that fall into the river Vaitarani in the realms of Yama, and the inauspicious wanderings of creatures through diverse wombs, and the character of their residence in the unholy uterus in the midst of blood and water and phlegm and urine and faeces, all of foul smell, and then in bodies that result from the union of blood and the vital seed, of marrow and sinews, abounding with hundreds of nerves and arteries and forming an impure mansion of nine doors, comprehending also what is for his own good, what those divers combinations are which are productive of good, beholding the abominable conduct of creatures whose natures are characterised by Darkness or Passion or Goodness, O chief of Bharata's race--conduct that is reprehended, in view of its incapacity to acquire Emancipation, by the followers of the Sankhya doctrine who are fully conversant with the Soul, beholding the swallowing up of the Moon and the Sun by Rahu, the falling of stars from their fixed positions and the diversions of constellations from their orbits, knowing the sad separation of all united objects and the diabolical behaviour of creatures in devouring one another, seeing the absence of all intelligence in the infancy of human beings and the deterioration and destruction of the body, marking the little attachment creatures have to the quality of Sattwa in consequence of their being overwhelmed by wrath and stupefaction, beholding also only one among thousands of human beings resolved to struggle after the acquisition of Emancipation, understanding the difficulty of attaining to Emancipation according to what is stated in the scriptures, seeing the marked solicitude that creatures manifest for all unattained objects and their comparative indifference to all objects that have been attained, marking the wickedness that results from all objects of the senses, O king, and the repulsive bodies, O son of Kunti, of persons reft of life, and the residence, always fraught with grief, of human beings, O Bharata, in houses (in the midst of spouses and children), knowing the end of those terrible and fallen men who become guilty of slaying Brahmanas, and of those wicked Brahmanas that are addicted to the drinking of alcoholic stimulants, and the equally sad end of those that become criminally attached to the spouses of their preceptors, and of those men, O Yudhishthira, that do not properly reverence their mothers, as also of those that have no reverence and worship to offer to the deities, understanding also, with the help of that knowledge (which their philosophy imparts), the end that of all perpetrators of wicked acts, and the diverse ends that overtake those who have taken birth among the intermediate orders, ascertaining the diverse declarations of the Vedas, the courses of seasons, the fading of years, of months, of fortnights, and of days, beholding directly the waxing and the waning of the Moon, seeing the rising and the ebbing of the seas, and the diminution of wealth and its increase once more, and the separation of united objects, the lapse of Yugas, the destruction of mountains, the drying up of rivers, the deterioration of (the purity of) the several orders and the end also of that deterioration occurring repeatedly, beholding the birth, decrepitude, death, and sorrows of creatures, knowing truly the faults attaching to the body and the sorrows to which human beings are subject, and the vicissitudes to which the bodies of creatures are subject, and understanding all the faults that attach to their own souls, and also all the inauspicious faults that attach to their own bodies (the followers of the Sankhya philosophy succeed in attaining to Emancipation)." "'Yudhishthira said, "O thou of immeasurable energy, what are those faults that thou seest attaching to one's body? It behoveth thee to expound this doubt to me fully and truly." "'Bhishma said, "Listen, O slayer of foes! The Sankhyas or followers of Kapila, who are conversant with all paths and endued with wisdom, say that there are five faults, O puissant one, in the human body. They are Desire and Wrath and Fear and Sleep and Breath. These faults are seen in the bodies of all embodied creatures. Those that are endued with wisdom cut the root of wrath with the aid of Forgiveness. Desire is cut off by casting off all purposes. By cultivation of the quality of Goodness (Sattwa) sleep is conquered, and Fear is conquered by cultivating Heedfulness. Breath is conquered by abstemiousness of diet O king. Truly understanding gunas by the aid of hundreds of gunas, hundreds of faults, and diverse causes by hundreds of causes, ascertaining that the world is like the froth of water, enveloped by hundreds of illusions flowing from Vishnu, like a painted edifice, and as unsubstantial as a reed, beholding it to be (as terrible as) a dark pit, or as unreal as bubbles of water, for the years that compose its age are as shortlived (compared to the duration of eternity) as bubbles, seeing it exposed to immediate destruction, bereft of happiness, having certain ruin for its end and from which it can never escape, sunk in Rajas and Tamas, and utterly helpless like an elephant sunk in mire,--noting all this--the Sankhyas, O king, endued with great wisdom, casting off all affections arising from one's relation towards one's children, by the aid, O king, of that extensive and all-embracing knowledge which their system advocates and cutting off quickly, with the weapon of knowledge and the bludgeon of penances, O Bharata, all inauspicious scents born of Rajas and all scents of a like nature arising from Tamas and all auspicious scents arising from Sattwa and all pleasures of the touch (and of the other senses) born of the same three qualities and inhering to the body, indeed, O Bharata, aided by the Yoga of knowledge, these Yatis crowned with success,--cross the Ocean of life. That Ocean, so terrible has sorrow for its waters. Anxiety and grief constitute its deep lakes. Disease and death are its gigantic alligators. The great fears that strike the heart at every step are its huge snakes. The deeds inspired by Tamas are its tortoises. Those inspired by Rajas are its fishes. Wisdom constitutes the raft for crossing it. The affections entertained for objects of the senses are its mire. Decrepitude constitutes its region of grief and trouble.[1586] Knowledge, O chastiser of foes, is its island. Acts constitute its great depth. Truth is its shores. Pious observances constitute the verdant weeds floating on its bosom.[1587] Envy constitutes its rapid and mighty current. The diverse sentiments of the heart constitute its mines. The diverse kinds of gratification are its valuable gems. Grief and fever are its winds. Misery and thirst are its mighty eddies. Painful and fatal diseases are its huge elephants. The assemblage of bones are its flights of steps, and phlegm is its froth. Gifts are its pearl-banks. The lakes of blood are its corals. Loud laughter constitutes its roars. Diverse sciences are its impassability. Tears are its brine. Renunciation of company constitutes the high refuge (of those that seek to cross it). Children and spouses are its unnumbered leeches. Friends and kinsmen are the cities and towns on its shores. Abstention from injury, and Truth, are its boundary line. Death is its storm-wave. The knowledge of Vedanta is its island (capable of affording refuge to those that are tossed upon its waters). Acts of compassion towards all creatures constitute its life-buoys,[1588] and Emancipation is the priceless commodity offered to those voyaging on its waters in search of merchandise. Like its substantive prototype with its equine head disgorging flames of fire, this ocean too has its fiery terrors. Having transcended the liability, that is so difficult to transcend, of dwelling within the gross body, the Sankhyas enter into pure space.[1589] Surya then bears, with his rays, those righteous men that are practicers of the Sankhya doctrines. Like the fibres of the lotus-stalk conveying water to the flower into which they all converge, Surya, drinking all things from the universe, conveys them unto those good and wise men.[1590] Their attachments all destroyed, possessed of energy, endued with wealth of penances, and crowned with success, these Yatis, O Bharata, are borne by that wind which is subtile, cooling, fragrant, and delicious to the touch, O Bharata! In fact, that wind which is the best of the seven winds, and which blows in regions of great felicity, conveys them, O son of Kunti, to that which is the highest end in space.[1591] Then space into which they are carried, O monarch, conveys them to the highest end of Rajas.[1592] Rajas then bears them to the highest end of Sattwa. Sattwa then bears them, O thou of pure soul, to the Supreme and puissant Narayana. The puissant and pure-souled Narayana at last, through himself, bears them to the Supreme Soul. Having reached the Supreme Soul, those stainless persons who have (by that time) become the body of (what is called) That attain to immortality, and they have never afterwards to return from that position, O King! That is the highest end, O son of Pritha, which is attained by those high-souled men who have transcended the influence of all pairs of opposites." "'Yudhishthira said, "O sinless one, have those persons of firm vows after they have attained to that excellent position which is fraught with puissance and felicity, any recollection of their lives including birth and death? It behoveth thee to tell me properly what the truth is in respect, O thou of Kuru's race. I do not think it proper to question any one else than thee! Observing the scriptures bearing upon Emancipation, I find this great fault in the subject (for certain scriptures on the topic declare that consciousness disappears in the emancipate state, while other scriptures declare the very reverse of this). If, having attained to this high state, the Yatis continue to live in consciousness, it would seem, O king, that the religion of Pravritti is superior. If, again, consciousness disappears from the emancipate state and one who has become emancipate only resembles a person sunk in dreamless slumber, then nothing can be more improper than to say that there is really no consciousness in Emancipation (for of all that happens in dreamless slumber is that one's consciousness is temporarily overshadowed and suspended, but never lost, for it returns when one awakes from that slumber)."[1593] "'Bhishma said, "However difficult it may be to answer it, the question which thou hast asked, O son, is proper. Verily, the question is of such a kind that even they that are possessed of great learning become stupefied in answering it, O chief of Bharata's race. For all that, hear what the truth is as expounded by me. The high-souled followers of Kapila have set their high understandings on this point. The senses of knowledge, O King, planted in the bodies of embodied creatures, are employed in their respective functions of perception. They are the instruments of the Soul, for it is through them that subtile Being perceives.[1594] Disunited with the Soul, the senses are like lumps of wood, and are without doubt, destroyed (in respect of the functions they serve) like the froth that is seen on the bosom of the ocean.[1595] When the embodied creature, O scorcher of foes, sinks into sleep along with his senses, the subtile Soul then roves among all subjects like the wind through space.[1596] The subtile Soul, during slumber, continues to see (all forms) and touch all objects of touch, O king, and taken in other perceptions, as well as when it is awake. In consequence of their inability to act without their director, the senses, during sleep, all become extinguished in their respective places (and lose their powers) like snakes deprived of poison.[1597] At such times, the subtile Soul, repairing into the respective place of all the senses, without doubt, discharges all their functions.[1598] All the qualities of Sattwa, all the attributes of the Understanding, O Bharata, as also those of Mind, and space, and Wind, O thou of righteous soul, and all the attributes of liquid substances, of Water, O Partha, and of Earth,--these senses with these qualities,--O Yudhishthira, which inhere to Jiva-souls, are along with the Jiva-soul itself, overwhelmed by the Supreme Soul or Brahma. Acts also, good and bad, overwhelm that Jiva-soul. Like disciples waiting upon their preceptor with reverence, the senses too wait upon the Jiva-soul transcends Prakriti, it attains to Brahma that is without change, that is highest, that is Narayana, that is beyond all pairs of opposites, and that transcends Prakriti. Freed from both merit and demerit, the Jiva-soul entering the Supreme Soul which is divested of all attributes, and which is the home of all auspiciousness, does not return thence, O Bharata. What remains, O son, is the mind with the senses, O Bharata. These have to come back once more at the appointed season for doing the bidding of their great master.[1599] Soon after, O son of Kunti, (when this body is cast off) the Yati striving after Emancipation, endued as he is with knowledge and desirous as he is of Guna, succeeds in attaining to that Peace of Emancipation which is his who becomes bodiless.[1600] [1601] The Sankhyas, O king, are endued with great wisdom. They succeed in attaining to the highest end by means of this kind of knowledge. There is no knowledge that is equal to this. Do not yield to any kind of doubt. The knowledge which is described in the system of the Sankhyas is regarded as the highest. That knowledge is immutable and is eternally fixed. It is eternal Brahma in fulness. It has no beginning, middle and end. It transcends all pairs of opposites. It is the cause of the creation of the universe. It stands in fulness. It is without deterioration of any kind. It is uniform, and everlasting. Thus are its praises sung by the wise. From it flow creation and destruction and all modifications. The great Rishis speak of it and applaud it in the scriptures. All learned Brahmanas and all righteous men regard it as flowing from Brahma, Supreme, Divine, Infinite, Immutable, and Undeteriorating. All Brahmanas again that are attached to objects of the senses adore and applaud it by ascribing to it attributes that belong to illusion.[1602] The same is the view of Yogins well observant of penances and meditation and of Sankhyas of immeasureable insight. The Srutis declare, O son of Kunti, that the Sankhya form of philosophy is the form of that Formless one. The cognitions (according to that philosophy) have, O chief of Bharata's race, been said to be the knowledge of Brahma.[1603] "'"There are two kinds of creatures on Earth, O lord of Earth, viz., mobile and immobile. Of these that are mobile are superior. That high knowledge, O king, which exists in persons conversant with Brahma, and that which occurs in the Vedas, and that which is found in other scriptures, and that in Yoga, and that which may be seen in the diverse Puranas, are all, O monarch, to be found in Sankhya philosophy.[1604] Whatever knowledge is seen to exist in high histories, whatever knowledge occurs, O king, in the sciences appertaining to the acquisition of wealth as approved by the wise, whatever other knowledge exists in this world,--all these,--flow, O high-souled monarch, from the high knowledge that occurs among the Sankhyas. Tranquillity of soul, high puissance, all subtile knowledge of which the scriptures speak, penances of subtile force, and all kinds of felicity, O king, have all been duly ordained in the Sankhya system. Failing to acquire, O son of Pritha, that complete knowledge which is recommended by their system, the Sankhyas attain to the status of deities and pass many years in felicity. Lording it over the celestials as they will, they fall, upon the expiration of the allotted period, among learned Brahmanas and Yatis.[1605] Casting off this body, those regenerate ones that follow the Sankhya system enter into the superior state of Brahma like the celestials entering into the firmament by devoting themselves wholly to that adorable system which is theirs and which is worshipped by all wise men. Those regenerate persons that are devoted to the acquisition of that knowledge which is recommended in the Sankhya system, even if they fail to attain to eminence, are never seen to fall among intermediate creatures, or to sink into the status of sinful men. That high-souled person who is fully conversant with the vast, high, ancient, ocean-like, and immeasurable Sankhya system that is pure and liberal and agreeable, becomes, O king, equal to Narayana. I have now told thee, O god among men, the truth about the Sankhya system. It is the embodiment of Narayana, of the universe as it exists from the remotest time.[1606] When the time of Creation comes, He causes the Creation to start into life, and when the time comes for destruction, He swallows up everything. Having withdrawn everything into his own body he goes to sleep,--that inner Soul of the universe."'"[1607] SECTION CCCIII "'Yudhishthira said, "What is that which is called Undeteriorating and by attaining to which no one has to come back? What, again, is that which is called Deteriorating, and by attaining to which one has to return once more? O slayer of foes, I ask thee the distinction that exists, O thou of mighty arms, between the Deteriorating and the Undeteriorating ones for understanding them both truly, O delighter of the Kurus. Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas speak of thee as an Ocean of knowledge. Highly-blessed Rishis and Yatis of high souls do the same. Thou hast very few days to live. When the Sun turns from the southern path for entering into the northern, thou shalt attain to thy high end. When thou shalt leave us, from whom shall we hear of all that is beneficial for us? Thou art the lamp of Kuru's race. Indeed thou art always blazing with the light of knowledge. O perpetuator of Kuru's race, I desire, therefore to hear all this from thee. Listening to thy discourses that are always sweet like nectar, my curiosity, without being satiated is always increasing!" "'Bhishma said, "I shall, in this connection, relate to thee the old narrative of the discourse that took place between Vasishtha and king Karala of Janaka's race. Once on a time when that foremost of Rishis, viz., Vasishtha, endued with the effulgence of the Sun, was seated at his ease, king Janaka asked him about that highest knowledge which is for our supreme good. Highly proficient in that department of knowledge which is concerned with the Soul and possessed of certain conclusions in respect of all branches of that science,[1608] as Maitravaruni, that foremost of Rishis, was seated the king approaching him with joined hands, asked him in humble words, well pronounced and sweet and destitute of all controversial spirit, the question,--O holy one, I desire to hear, of Supreme and Eternal Brahma by attaining to which men of wisdom have not to come back. I desire also to know that which is called Destructible and That into which this universe enters when destroyed. Indeed, what is That which is said to be indestructible, suspicious, beneficial and free from evil of every kind? "'"Vasishtha said, 'Hear, O lord of Earth, as to how this universe is destroyed, and, of That which was never destroyed and which will never be destroyed at any time. Twelve thousand years, (according to the measure of the celestials), make a Yuga, four such Yugas taken a thousand times, make a Kalpa which measures one day of Brahman.[1609] Brahman's night also, O king, is of the same measure. When Brahman himself is destroyed,[1610] Sambhu of formless soul and to whom the Yuga attributes of Anima, Laghima, &c, naturally inhere, awakes, and once more creates that First or Eldest of all creatures, possessed of vast proportions, of infinite deeds, endued with form, and identifiable with the universe. That Sambhu is otherwise called Isana (the lord of everything). He is pure Effulgence, and transcends all deterioration, having his hands and feet stretching in all directions, with eyes and head and mouth everywhere, and with ears also in every place. That Being exists, overwhelming the entire universe. The eldest-born Being is called Hiranyagarbha. This holy one has (in the Vedanta) been called the Understanding. In the Yuga scriptures He is called the Great, and Virinchi, and the Unborn. In the Sankhya scriptures, He is indicated by diverse name, and regarded as having Infinity for his Soul. Of diverse forms and constituting the soul of the universe, He is regarded as One and Indestructible. The three worlds of infinite ingredients have been created by Him without assistance from any source and have been overwhelmed by him. In consequence of His manifold forms, He is said to be of universal form. Undergoing modifications He creates Himself by Himself. Endued with mighty energy, He first creates Consciousness and that Great Being called Prajapati endued with Consciousness. The Manifest (or Hiranyagarbha) is created from the Unmanifest. This is called by the learned the Creation of Knowledge. The creation of Mahan (or Virat) and Consciousness, by Hiranyagarbha, is the creation of Ignorance.[1611] Ascription of attributes (worthy of worship) and the destruction thereof, called respectively by the names of Ignorance and Knowledge by persons learned by the interpretation of the Srutis, then arose, referring to this, that, or the other of the three (viz., Akshara, Hiranyagarbha, or Virat).[1612] Know, O king, that the creation of the (subtile) elements from consciousness is the third.[1613] In all kinds of consciousness is the fourth creation which flows modification of the third. This fourth creation comprises Wind and Light and Space and Water and Earth, with their properties of sound, touch, form, taste and scent. This aggregate of ten arose, without doubt, at the same time. The fifth creation, O monarch, is that which has arisen from combination of the primal elements (named above). This comprises the ear, the skin, the eyes, the tongue, and the nose forming the fifth, and speech, and the two hands, and the two legs, and the lower duct, and the organs of generation. The first five of these constitute the organs of knowledge, and the last five the organs of action. All these, with mind, arose simultaneously O king. These constitute the four and twenty topics that exist in the forms of all living creatures. By understanding these properly, Brahmanas possessed of insight into the truth have never to yield to sorrow. In the three worlds a combination of these, called body, is possessed by all embodied creatures. Indeed, O king a combination of those is known as such in deities and men and Danavas, and Yakshas and spirits and Gandharvas and Kinnaras and great snakes, and Charanas and Pisachas, in celestial Rishis and Rakshasas, in biting flies, and worms, and gnats, and vermin born of filth and rats, and dogs and Swapakas and Chaineyas and Chandalas and Pukkasas in elephants and steeds and asses and tigers, and trees and kine. Whatever other creatures exist in water or space or on earth, for there is no other place in which creatures exist as we have heard, have this combination. All these, O sire, included within the class called Manifest, are seen to be destroyed day after day. Hence, all creatures produced by union of these four and twenty are said to be destructible. "'"This then is the Indestructible. And since the universe, which is made up of Manifest and Unmanifest, meets with destruction, therefore, it is said to be Destructible. The very Being called Mahan who is the eldest-born is always spoken of as an instance of the Destructible. I have now told thee, O monarch, all that thou hadst asked me. Transcending the four and twenty topics already adverted to is the twenty-fifth called Vishnu. That Vishnu in consequence of the absence of all attributes, is not a topic (of knowledge) though as then which pervades all the topics, he has been called so by the wise. Since that which is destructible has caused all this that is Manifest, therefore, all this is endued with form. The twenty-fourth, which is Prakriti, is said to preside over all this (which has sprung from her modifications). The twenty-fifth, which is Vishnu, is formless and, therefore, cannot be said to preside over the universe.[1614] It is that Unmanifest (Prakriti), which, when endued with body (in consequence of union with Chit) dwells in the hearts of all creatures endued with body. As regards eternal Chetana (the Indestructible), although he is without attributes and without form, yet he (in consequence of a union with Prakriti) assumes all forms. Uniting with Prakriti which has the attributes of birth and death, he also assumes the attributes of birth and death. And in consequence of such union he becomes an object of perception and though in reality divested of all attributes yet he comes to be invested therewith. It is in this way that the Mahan-Soul (Hiranyagarbha), becoming united with Prakriti and invested with Ignorance, undergoes modifications and becomes conscious of Self. Uniting with the attributes of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas, he becomes identified with diverse creatures belonging to diverse orders of Being, in consequence of his forgetfulness and his waiting upon Ignorance. In consequence of his birth and destruction arising from the fact of his dwelling in upon with Prakriti, he thinks himself to be no other than what he apparently is. Regarding himself as this or that, he follows the attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. Under the influence of Tamas, he attains to diverse kinds of conditions that are affected by Tamas. Under the influence of Rajas and Sattwa, he attains similarly to conditions that are affected by Rajas and Sattwa. There are three colours in all, viz., White, Red, and Dark. All those colours appertain to Prakriti (so that He it is who becomes White or Red or Dark according as the nature of the Prakriti with which is He becomes identified for the time being). Through Tamas one goes to hell. Through Rajas one attains to and remains in the status of humanity. Through Sattwa, people ascend to the regions of the deities and become sharers of great felicity. By adhering to sin continuously one sinks into the intermediate order of beings. By acting both righteously and sinfully one attains to the status of the deities. In this way the twenty-fifth, viz., Akshara (the Indestructible), the wise say, by union with the unmanifest (Prakriti), becomes transformed into Kshara (destructible). By means of knowledge however, the Indestructible becomes displayed in His true nature.'"'" SECTION CCCIV "'"Vasishtha said, 'Thus in consequence of his forgetfulness the Soul follows ignorance and obtains thousands of bodies one after another. He attains to thousands of births among the intermediate orders and sometimes among the very gods in consequence of his union with (particular) attributes and the puissance of attributes.[1615] From the status of humanity, he goes to heaven and from heaven he comes back to humanity, and from humanity he sinks into hell for many long years. As the worm that fabricates the cocoon shuts itself, completely on every side by means of the threads it weaves itself, even so the Soul, though in reality transcending all attributes, invests himself on every side with attributes (and deprives himself of liberty).[1616] Though transcending (in his real nature) both happiness and misery, it is thus that he subjects himself to happiness and misery. It is thus also that, though transcending all diseases, the Soul regards himself to be afflicted by headache and opthalmia and toothache and affections of the throat and abdominal dropsy, and burning thirst, and enlargement of glands, and cholera, and vitiligo, and leprosy, and burns, and asthma and phthisis, and epilepsy, and whatever other diseases of diverse kinds are seen in the bodies of embodied creatures. Regarding himself, through error, as born among thousands of creatures in the intermediate orders of being, and sometimes among the gods, he endures misery and enjoys the fruits of his good deeds. Invested with Ignorance he regards himself as robed sometimes in white cloth and sometimes in full dress consisting of four pieces or as lying on floors (instead of on beds or bedsteads) or with hands and feet contracted like those of frogs or as seated upright in the attitude of ascetic contemplation, or as clad in rags or as lying or sitting under the canopy of heaven or within mansions built of bricks and stone or on rugged stones or on ashes or bare stones or on the bare earth or on beds or on battlefields or in water or in mire or on wooden planks or on diverse kinds of beds; or impelled by desire of fruits, he regards himself as clad in a scant piece of cloth made of grass or as totally nude or as robed in silk or in skin of the black antelope or in cloth made of flax or in sheep-skin or in tiger-skin or in lion-skin or in fabric of hemp, or in barks of birch or in cloths made of the produce of prickly plants, or in vestures made of threads woven by worms or of torn rags or in diverse other kinds of cloth too numerous to mention. The soul regards himself also as wearing diverse kinds of ornaments and gems, or as eating diverse kinds of food. He regards himself as sometimes eating at intervals of one night, or once at the same hour every day, or as at the fourth, the sixth, and the eighth hour every day, or as once in six or seven or eight nights, or as once in ten or twelve day, or as once in a month, of as eating only roots, or fruits, or as subsisting upon air or water alone, or on cakes of sesame husk, or curds or cowdung, or the urine of the cow or potherbs or flowers or moss or raw food, or as subsisting on fallen leaves of trees or fruits that have fallen down and lay scattered on the ground, or diverse other kinds of food, impelled by the desire of winning (ascetic) success. The Soul regards himself as adopting the observance of Chandrayana according to the rites ordained in the scriptures, or diverse other vows and observance, and the courses of duty prescribed for the four modes of life, and even derelictions of duty, and the duties of other subsidiary modes of life included in the four principal ones, and even diverse kinds of practices that distinguish the wicked and sinful. The Soul regards himself as enjoying retired spots and delightful shades of mountains and the cool vicinity of spring and fountain and solitary river banks and secluded forests, and sacred spots dedicated to the deities, and lakes and waters withdrawn from the busy hunts of men, and lone mountain caves affording the accommodation that houses and mansions afford. The Soul regards himself as employed in the recitation of different kinds of hidden Mantras or as observing different vows and rules and diverse kinds of penances, and sacrifices of many kinds, and rites of diverse sorts. The Soul regards himself as adopting sometimes the way of traders and merchants and the practices of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, and gifts of diverse kinds unto those that are destitute or blind or helpless. In consequence of his being invested with Ignorance, the Soul adopts different attributes of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas, and Righteousness and Wealth and pleasure. Under the influence of Prakriti the Soul, undergoing modification himself, observes and adopts and practices all these and regards himself as such. Indeed, the Soul regards himself as employed in the utterance of the sacred mantras Swaha and Swadha and Vashat, and in bowing unto those he regards as his Superiors; in officiating in the sacrifices of others, in teaching pupils, making gifts and accepting them; in performing sacrifices and studying the scriptures, and doing all other acts and rites of this kind. The Soul regards himself as concerned with birth and death and disputes and slaughter. All these, the learned say, constitute the path of acts good and bad. It is the goddess Prakriti who causes birth and death. When the time approaches for universal Destruction, all existent objects and attributes are withdrawn by the Supreme Soul which then exists alone like the Sun withdrawing at evening all his rays; and when the time comes for Creation He once more creates and spreads them out like the Sun shedding and spreading out his rays when morning comes. Even thus the Soul, for the sake of sport, repeatedly regards himself invested with all these conditions, which are his own forms and attributes, infinite in number, and agreeable to himself. It is this way that the Soul, though really transcending the three attributes, becomes attached to the path of acts and creates by modification Prakriti invested with the attributes of birth and death and identical with all acts and conditions which are characterised by the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. Arrived at the path of action, the Soul regards particular acts to be endued with particular characteristics and productive of particular ends. O monarch, the whole of this universe has been blinded by Prakriti and all things have been diversely overwhelmed (through Prakriti) by the attributes of Rajas and Tamas. It is in consequence of the Soul being invested by Prakriti that these pairs of opposites productive of happiness and woe, repeatedly come. It is in consequence of this Ignorance that Jiva regards these sorrows to be his and imagines them as pursuing him. Indeed, O monarch, through that Ignorance it is that Jiva imagines he should anyhow cross those sorrows, and that he should, going into the regions of the gods, enjoy the felicity that awaits all his good acts. It is through Ignorance that he thinks he should enjoy and endure these delights and these woes here in this world. Through Ignorance Jiva thinks,--"I should secure my happiness. By continually doing good acts, I may have happiness in this life till its close and I shall be happy in all my future lives. Though, again the (evil) acts I do in this life unending sorrow may become mine. The status of humanity is fraught with great misery, for from it one sinks into hell. From hell, it will take many long years before I can come back to the status of humanity. From humanity I shall attain to the status of the gods. From that superior status I shall have to come back again to humanity and thence to sink into hell once more!"--One who always regards this combination of the primal elements and the senses, with the Chit's reflection in it, to be thus invested with the characteristics of the Soul, has repeatedly to wander among gods and human beings and to sink into hell. Being always invested with the idea of meum, Jiva has to make a round of such births. Millions upon millions of births have to be gone through by Jiva in the successive forms he assumes, all of which are liable to death. He who does acts in this way, which are all fraught with good and bad fruits, has in the three worlds to assume successive forms and to enjoy and endure fruits corresponding therewith. It is Prakriti that causes acts fraught with good and bad acts; and it is Prakriti that enjoys and endures the fruits thereof in the three worlds. Indeed, Prakriti follows the course of acts. The status of the intermediate beings, of humanity, and of the gods as well,--these three fields,--should be known as originating in Prakriti and has been said to be destitute of all attributes. Her existence is affirmed only in consequence of her acts (beginning with Mahat). After the same manner, Purusha (or Soul), though without attributes himself, has his existence affirmed in consequence of the acts which the body does when it receives his reflection. Although the Soul is not subject to modifications of any kind and is the active principle that sets Prakriti in motion, yet entering a body that is united with the senses of knowledge and action, he regards all the acts of those senses as his own. The five senses of knowledge beginning with the ear, and those of action beginning with speech, uniting with the attributes of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas, become engaged in numerous objects. Jiva imagines that it is he who does the acts of his life and that the senses of knowledge and acts belong to him, although in reality he has no senses. Indeed, though unequipt with body, he imagines that he has a body. Though destitute of attributes, he regards himself as endued therewith, and though transcending Time, imagines himself to be under Time's control. Though destitute of understanding, he still regards himself as endued therewith, and though transcending the (four and twenty) topics, regards himself as one included among them. Though deathless, he still regards himself as liable to death, and though motionless regards himself to be endued with motion. Though not possessed of a material case, he still regards himself as possessed of one; and though unborn, he still regards himself as invested with birth. Though transcending penances, he still regards as engaged in penances, and though he has no end (after which to strive), he still regards himself as liable to attain to ends (of diverse kinds). Though not endued with motion and birth, he still regards himself as endued with both, and though transcending fear, still regards himself as liable to fear. Though Indestructible, he still regards himself Destructible. Invested with Ignorance, the Soul thus thinks of himself.'"'" SECTION CCCV "'"Vasishtha said, 'It is thus, in consequence of his Ignorance and his association with others that are invested with Ignorance, that Jiva has recourse to millions and millions of births every one of which has dissolution in the end. In consequence of his transformation into Chit invested with Ignorance, Jiva betakes himself to millions of abodes one of which is liable to end in destruction, among intermediate beings and men and the deities. In consequence of Ignorance, Jiva, like Chandramas, has to wax and wane thousands and thousands of times. This is truly the nature of Jiva when invested with ignorance. Know that Chandramas has in reality full sixteen portions. Only fifteen of these are subject to increase and decrease. The sixteenth (i.e., that portion which remains invisible and which appears on the night of the New-moon) remains constant. After the manner of Chandramas, Jiva too has full sixteen portions. Only fifteen of these, (viz., Prakriti with Chit's reflection, the ten senses of knowledge and action, and the four inner faculties) appear and disappear. The sixteenth (viz., Chit in its purity) is subject to no modification. Invested with Ignorance, Jiva repeatedly and continually takes birth in the fifteen portions named above. With the eternal and immutable portion on Jiva primal essence become united and this union takes place repeatedly. That sixteenth portion is subtile. It should be known as Soma (eternal and immutable). It is never upheld by the senses. On the other hand, the senses are upheld by it. Since those sixteen portions are the cause of the birth of creatures, creatures can never, O monarch, take birth without their aid. They are called Prakriti. The destruction of Jiva's liability to be united with Prakriti is called Emancipation. The Mahat-Soul, which is the twenty-fifth, if it regards that body of sixteen portions called the Unmanifest,[1617] has to assume it repeatedly. In consequence of not knowing, That which is stainless and pure, and for its devotion to what is the result of a combination of both Pure and Impure, the Soul, which is in reality pure, becomes, O king Impure. Indeed, in consequence of its devotion to Ignorance, Jiva, though characterised by Knowledge becomes repeatedly associated with Ignorance. Though, O monarch, free from error of every kind, yet in consequence of its devotion to the three attributes of Prakriti, it becomes endued with those attributes.'"'" SECTION CCCVI "'"Janaka said, 'O holy one, it has been said that the relation between male and female is like that which subsists between the Indestructible and the destructible (or Purusha and Prakriti). Without a male, a female can never conceive. Without a female a male also can never create form. In consequence of their union with each other, and each depending upon the attributes of the other, forms (of living creatures) are seen to flow. This is the case with all orders of being. Through each other's union for purposes of (sexual) congress, and through each depending upon the attributes of the others, forms (of living creatures) flow in menstrual seasons. I shall tell to thee the indications thereof. Hear what the attributes are that belong to the sire and what those are that belong to the mother. Bones, sinews and marrow, O regenerate one, we know, are derived from the sire. Skin, flesh, and blood, we hear are derived from the mother. Even this, O foremost of regenerate persons, is what may be read of in the Vedas and other scriptures. Whatever is read as declared in the Vedas and in other scriptures is regarded as authority. The authority, again, of the Vedas and other scriptures (not inconsistent with the Vedas), is eternal. If Prakriti and Purusha be always united together in this way by each opposing and each depending on the other's attributes, I see, O holy one, that Emancipation cannot exist. Thou, O holy one, art possessed of spiritual vision so that thou seest all things as if they are present before thy eyes. If, therefore, there be any direct evidence of the existence of Emancipation, do thou, speak of it to me. We are desirous of attaining to Emancipation. Indeed, we wish to attain to That which is auspicious, bodiless, not subject to decrepitude, eternal beyond the ken of the senses, and having nothing superior to it.' "'"Vasishtha said, 'What thou sayest about the indications of the Vedas and the other scriptures (in respect of the matter) is even so. Thou takest those indications in the way in which they should be taken. Thou bearest, however, in thy understanding, only the texts of the Vedas and the other scriptures. Thou art not, O monarch, truly conversant with the real meaning of those texts. That person who bears in his understanding merely the texts of the Vedas and the other scriptures without being conversant with the true sense or meaning of those texts, bears them fruitlessly. Indeed, one who holds the contents of a work in memory without comprehending their meaning is said to bear an useless burden. He, however, who is conversant with the true meaning of a treatise, is said to have studied that treatise to purpose. Questioned regarding the meaning of a text, it behoveth one to communicate that meaning which he has comprehended by a careful study. That person of dull intelligence who refuses to expound the meanings of texts in the midst of a conclave of the learned, that person of foolish understanding, never succeeds in expounding the meaning correctly.[1618] An ignorant person, going to expound the true meaning of treatises, incurs ridicule. Even those possessed of a knowledge of the Soul have to incur ridicule on such occasions (if what they go to explain has not been acquired by study). Listen now to me, O monarch, as to how the subject of Emancipation has been explained (by preceptors to disciple from days of old) among highsouled persons conversant with the Sankhya and the Yoga systems of philosophy. That which the Yogins behold is precisely that which the Sankhyas strive after to attain. He who sees the Sankhya and the Yoga systems to be one and the same is said to be endued with intelligence. Skin, flesh, blood, fat, bile, marrow, and sinews, and these senses (of both knowledge and action), about which thou wert speaking unto me, exist. Objects flow from objects; the senses from the senses. From body one obtains a body, as a seed is obtained from seed. When the Supreme Being is without senses, without seed, without matter, without body, He must be divested of all attributes, and in consequence of His being so, how, indeed, can He have attributes of any kind? Space and other attributes arise from the attributes of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas, and disappear ultimately in them. Thus the attributes arise from Prakriti. Skin, flesh, blood, fat, bile, marrow, bones, and sinews,--these eight that are made of Prakriti, know, O king, may sometimes be produced by the vital seed alone (of the male). The Jiva-soul and the universe are said to both partake of Prakriti characterised by the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. The Supreme Soul is different from both the Jiva-soul and the universe. As the seasons though unendued with forms, are nevertheless inferred from the appearance of particular fruits and flowers, after the same manner, Prakriti, though formless, is inferred from the attributes of Mahat and the rest that spring from it. In this way from the existence of Chaitanya in the body, the Supreme Soul, divested of all attributes whatever and perfectly stainless, is inferred. Without beginning and destruction, without end, the overseer of all things, and auspicious, that Soul, only in consequence of its identifying itself with the body and other attributes, comes to be taken as invested with attributes. Those persons that are truly conversant with attributes know that only objects endued with attributes can have attributes but that That which transcends all attributes can have none. When the Jiva-soul conquers all attributes born of Prakriti and which it assumes under error, only then does it behold the Supreme Soul. Only the highest Rishis conversant with the Sankhya and the Yoga systems know that Supreme Soul which Sankhya and Yogins and believers in all other systems say is beyond the Understanding, which is regarded as Knower and endued with the highest wisdom in consequence of its casting off all consciousness of identification with Prakriti, which transcends the attribute of Ignorance or Error, which is Unmanifest, which is beyond all attributes, which is called the Supreme, which is dissociated from all attributes, which ordains all things, which is Eternal and Immutable, which overrules Prakriti and all the attributes born of Prakriti, and which, transcending the four and twenty topics of enquiry, forms the twenty-fifth. When men of knowledge, who stand in fear of birth, of the several conditions of living consciousness, and of death, succeed in knowing the Unmanifest, they succeed in understanding the Supreme Soul at the same time. An intelligent man regards the unity of Jiva-soul with the Supreme Soul as consistent with the scriptures and as perfectly correct, while the man destitute of intelligence looks upon the two as different from each other. This forms the distinction between the man of intelligence and man that is destitute of it. The indications of both Kshara and Akshara (destructible and indestructible) have now been said unto thee. Akshara is Oneness or Unity, while multiplicity or variety is said to be Kshara. When one begins to study and understands properly the five and twenty topics of enquiry, one then comprehends that the Oneness of the Soul is consistent with the scriptures and its multiplicity is what is opposed to them. These are the several indications of what is included in the tale of topics or principles created and what transcends that tale. The wise have said that the tale of topics numbers only five and twenty. That which transcends the topics is beyond that number and forms the twenty-sixth. The study or comprehension of created things (numbered five and twenty) according to their aggregates (of five) is the study and comprehension of topics. Transcending these is That which is eternal.'"'" SECTION CCCVII "'"Janaka said, 'Thou hast, O foremost of Rishis, said that Unity is the attribute of that which is Akshara (Indestructible) and variety or multiplicity is the attribute of what is known as Kshara (Destructible). I have not, however, clearly understood the nature of these two. Doubts are still lurking in my mind. Ignorant men look upon the Soul as endued with the incident of multiplicity. They, however that are possessed of knowledge and wisdom regard the Soul to be one and the same. I however, have a very dull understanding. I am, therefore, unable to comprehend how all this can happen. The causes also that thou hast assigned for the unity and the multiplicity of Akshara and Kshara I have almost forgotten in consequence of the restlessness of my understanding. I therefore, desire to hear thee once more discourse to me on those same incidents of unity and multiplicity, on him who is knowing, on what is destitute of knowledge, on Jiva-soul, Knowledge, Ignorance, Akshara, Kshara, and on the Sankhya and the Yoga systems, in detail and separately and agreeable to the truth.' "'"Vasishtha said, 'I shall tell thee what thou askest! Listen however, to me, O monarch, as I expound to thee the practices of Yoga separately. Contemplation, which constitutes an obligatory practice with Yogins, is their highest puissance[1619]. Those conversant with Yoga say that Contemplation is of two kinds. One is the concentration of the mind, and the other is called Pranayama (regulation of breath). Pranayama is said to be endued with substance; while concentration of mind is unendued with it.[1620] Excepting the three times when a man passes urine and stools and eats, one should devote the whole of his time to contemplation. Withdrawing the senses from their objects by the aid of the mind, one possessed of intelligence, having made oneself pure, should agreeably to the two and twenty modes of transmitting the Prana breath, unite the Jiva-soul with That which transcends the four and twentieth topic (called Ignorance or Prakriti)[1621] which is regarded by the wise as dwelling in every part of the body and as transcending decay and destruction. It is by means of those two and twenty methods that the Soul may always be known, as heard by us. It is certain that this practice of Yoga is his whose mind is never affected by evil passions. It is not any other person's. Dissociated from all attachments, abstemious in diet, and subduing all the senses, one should fix one's mind on the Soul, during the first and the last part of the night, after having, O king of Mithila, suspended the functions of the senses, quieted the mind by the understanding, and assumed a posture as motionless as that of a block of stone. When men of knowledge, conversant with the rules of Yoga, become as fixed as a stake of wood, and as immovable as a mountain, then are they said to be in Yoga. When one does not hear, and smell, and taste, and see; when one is not conscious of any touch; when one's mind becomes perfectly free from every purpose; when one is not conscious of any thing, when one cherishes no thought; when one becomes like a piece of wood, then is one called by the wise to be in perfect Yoga. At such a time one shines like a lamp that burns in a place where there is no wind; at such a time one becomes freed even from one's subtile form, and perfectly united with Brahma. When one attains to such progress, one has no longer to ascend or to fall among intermediate beings. When persons like ourselves say that there has been a complete identification of the Knower, the Known, and Knowledge, then is the Yogin said to behold the Supreme Soul.[1622] While in Yoga, the Supreme Soul displays itself in the Yogin's heart like a blazing fire, or like the bright Sun, or like the lightning's flame in the sky. That Supreme Soul which is Unborn and which is the essence of nectar, that is seen by high-souled Brahmanas endued with intelligence and wisdom and conversant with the Vedas, is subtiler than what is subtile and greater than what is great. That Soul, though dwelling in all creatures, is not seen by them. The creator of the worlds, He is seen only by a person endued with wealth of intelligence when aided by the lamp of the mind. He dwells on the other share of thick Darkness and transcends him called Iswara.[1623] Persons conversant with the Vedas and endued with omniscience call Him the dispeller of Darkness, stainless, transcending Darkness, without attributes and endued therewith. "'"'This is what is called the Yoga of Yogins. What else is the indication of Yoga? By such practices do Yogins succeed in beholding the Supreme Soul that transcends destruction and decay. This much that I have told thee in detail concerns about the science of Yoga. I shall now discourse to thee of that Sankhya philosophy by which the Supreme Soul is seen through the gradual destruction of errors.[1624] The Sankhyas, whose system is built on Prakriti, say that Prakriti, which is Unmanifest, is the foremost. From Prakriti, they say, O monarch, the second principle called Mahat, is produced. It is heard by us that from Mahat flows the third principle called Consciousness. The Sankhyas blessed with sight of the Soul say that from Consciousness flow the five subtile essences of sound, form, touch, taste, and scent. All these eight they call by the name of Prakriti. The modifications of these eight are sixteen in number. They are the five gross essences of space, light, earth, water, and wind, and the ten senses of action and of knowledge including the mind. Men of wisdom devoted to the Sankhya path and conversant with all its ordinances and dispensations regard these four and twenty topics as embracing the whole range of Sankhya enquiry. That which is produced becomes merged in the producing. Created by the Supreme Soul one after another, these principles are destroyed in a reverse order. At every new Creation, the Gunas start into existence in the lateral order (as stated above), and (when Destruction comes) they merge, (each into its progenitor) in a reverse order, like the waves of the ocean disappearing in the ocean that gives them birth. O best of kings, this is the manner in which the Creation and the Destruction of Prakriti takes place. The Supreme Being is all that remains when Universal Destruction takes place, and it is He that assumes multifarious forms when Creation starts into life. This is even so, O king, as ascertained by men of knowledge. It is Prakriti that causes the overpresiding Purusha to thus assume diversity and revert back to unity. Prakriti also herself has the same indications. Only one fully conversant with the nature of the topics of enquiry knows that Prakriti also assumes the same kind of diversity and unity, for when Destruction comes she reverts into unity and when Creation flows she assumes diversity of form. The Soul makes Prakriti, which contains the principles of production or growth, to assume manifold forms. Prakriti is called Kshetra (or soul). Transcending the four and twenty topics or principles is the Soul which is great. It presides over that Prakriti or Kshetra. Hence, O great king, the foremost of Yatis say that the Soul is the Presider. Indeed, it has been heard by us that in consequence of the Soul's presiding over all Kshetras He is called the Presider. And because He knows that Unmanifest Kshetra, He is, therefore, also called Kshetrajna (Knower of Kshetra). And because also the Soul enters into Unmanifest Kshetra (viz., the body), therefore he is called Purusha. Kshetra is something quite different from Kshetrajna. Kshetra is Unmanifest. The Soul, which transcends the four and twenty principles, is called the Knower. Knowledge and the object known are different from each other. Knowledge, again, has been said to be Unmanifest, while the object of knowledge is the Soul which transcends the four and twenty principles. The Unmanifest is called Kshetra, Sattwa (understanding), and also Iswara (the supreme Lord), while Purusha, which is the twenty-fifth principle has nothing superior to it and is not a principle (for it transcends all principles and is only called a principle conventionally). This much O king, is an account of the Sankhya philosophy. The Sankhyas called the cause of the universe, and merging all the grosser principles into the Chit behold the Supreme Soul. Rightly studying the four and twenty topics along with Prakriti, and ascertaining their true nature, the Sankhyas succeed in beholding That which transcends the four and twenty topics or principles.[1625] Jiva in reality is that very Soul which transcends Prakriti and is beyond the four and twenty topics. When he succeeds in knowing that Supreme Soul by dissociating himself from Prakriti, he then becomes identifiable with the Supreme Soul. I have now told thee every thing about the Sankhya System truly. Those who are conversant with this philosophy succeed in attaining to tranquillity. Indeed, as men whose understanding are subject to error have direct cognisance of Brahma. They that succeed in attaining to that state have never to come back to this world after the dissolution of their bodies; while as regards those that are said to be emancipate in this life, puissance, and that indescribable felicity which attaches itself to Samadhi, and immutability, become theirs, in consequence of their having attained to the nature of the Indestructible.[1626] They who behold this universe as many (instead of seeing it as one and uniform) are said to see incorrectly. These men are blind to Brahma. O chastiser of foes, such persons have repeatedly to come back into the world and assume bodies (in diverse orders of Being). They who are conversant with all that has been said above become possessed of omniscience, and accordingly when they pass from this body no longer become subject to the control of any more physical frames. All things, (or the entire universe), have been said to be the result of the Unmanifest. The Soul, which is the twenty-fifth, transcends all things. They who know the Soul have no fear of returning to the world.'"'" SECTION CCCVIII "'"Vasishtha said, 'I have thus far discoursed to thee on the Sankhya philosophy. Listen now to me as I tell thee what is Vidya (knowledge) and what is Avidya (Ignorance), one after the other. The learned say that that Prakriti, which is fraught with the attributes of Creation and Destruction, is called Avidya; while Purusha, who is freed from the attributes of Creation and Destruction and who transcends the four and twenty topics or principles, is called Vidya. Listen to me first as I tell thee what is Vidya among successive sets of other things, as expounded in the Sankhya philosophy. Among the senses of knowledge and those of action, the senses of knowledge are said to constitute what is known as Vidya. Of the senses of knowledge and their object, the former constitute Vidya as has been heard by us. Of objects of the senses and the mind, the wise have said that the mind constitute Vidya. Of mind and the five subtile essences, the five subtile essences constitutes Vidya. Of the five subtile essences and Consciousness, Consciousness constitutes Vidya. Of Consciousness and Mahat, Mahat, O king, is Vidya. Of all the topics or principles beginning with Mahat, and Prakriti, it is Prakriti, which is unmanifest and supreme, that is called Vidya. Of Prakriti, and that called Vidhi which is Supreme, the latter should be known as Vidya. Transcending Prakriti is the twenty-fifth (called Purusha) who should be known as Vidya. Of all knowledge that which is the Object of Knowledge has been said to be the Unmanifest, O king.[1627] Again, Knowledge has been said to be Unmanifest and the Object of knowledge to be that which transcends the four and twenty. Once more, Knowledge has been said to be Unmanifest, and the Knower is that which transcends the four and twenty. I have now told thee what is truly the import of Vidya and Avidya. Listen now to me as I tell thee all that has been said about the Indestructible, and the Destructible. Both Jiva and Prakriti have been said to be Indestructible, and both of them have been said to be Destructible. I shall tell thee the reason of this correctly as I have understood it. Both Prakriti and Jiva are without beginning and without end or destruction. Both of them are regarded as supreme (in the matter of Creation). Those that are possessed of knowledge say that both are to be called topics or principles. In consequence of its attributes of (repeated) Creation and Destruction, the Unmanifest (or Prakriti) is called Indestructible. That Unmanifest becomes repeatedly modified for the purpose of creating the principle. And because the principles beginning with Mahat are produced by Purusha as well, and because also Purusha and the Unmanifest are mutually dependant upon each other, therefore is Purusha also, the twenty-fifth, called Kshetra (and hence Akshara or Indestructible).[1628] When the Yogin withdraws and merges all the principles into the Unmanifest Soul (or Brahma) then the twenty-fifth (viz., Jiva or Purusha) also, with all those principles disappears into it. When the principles become merged each into its progenitor, then the one that remains is Prakriti. When Kshetrajna too,[1629] O son, becomes merged into his own producing cause then (all that remains is Brahma and, therefore) Prakriti with all the principles in it becomes Kshara (or meets with destruction), and attains also to the condition of being without attributes in consequence of her dissociation from all the principles. Thus it is that Kshetrajna, when his knowledge of Kshetra disappears, becomes, by his nature, destitute of attributes, as it has been heard by us. When he becomes Kshara he then assumes attributes. When, however, he attains to his own real nature, he then succeeds in understanding his own condition of being really destitute of attributes. By casting off Prakriti and beginning to realise that he is different from her, the intelligent Kshetrajna then comes to be regarded as pure and stainless. When Jiva ceases to exist in a state of union with Prakriti, then does he become identifiable with Brahma. When, however, he exists united with Prakriti, he then, O king, seems to be different from Brahma. Indeed, when Jiva shows no affection for Prakriti and her principles, he then succeeds in beholding the Supreme and having once beheld Him wishes not to fall away from that felicity. When the knowledge of truth dawns upon him, Jiva begins to lament in this strain: "Alas, how foolishly have I acted by falling through ignorance, into this frame composed of Prakriti like a fish entangled in a net! Alas, through ignorance, I have migrated from body to body like a fish from water to water thinking that water is the element in which alone it can live. Indeed, like a fish that does not know anything else than water to be its element, I also have never known anything else than children and spouses to be my own! Fie on me that through ignorance, I have been repeatedly migrating from body to body in forgetfulness (of the Supreme Soul)! The Supreme Soul alone is my friend. I have capacity for friendship with Him. Whatever be my nature and whoever I may be, I am competent to be like Him and to attain an identity with Him. I see my similarity with Him. I am indeed, like Him. He is stainless. It is evident that I am of the same nature. Through ignorance and stupefaction, I have become associated with inanimate Prakriti. Though really without attachments, I have passed this long time in a state of attachment with Prakriti. Alas, by her was I so long subdued without having been able to know it. Various are the forms--high, middling, and low, that Prakriti assume. Oh, how shall I dwell in those forms?[1630] How shall I live conjointly with her? In consequence only of my ignorance I repair to her companionship. I shall now be fixed (in Sankhya or Yoga). I shall not longer keep her companionship. For having passed so long a time with her, I should think that I was so long deceived by her, for myself being really exempt from modification, how could I keep company with one that is subject to modification? She cannot be held to be responsible for this. The responsibility is mine, since turning away from the Supreme Soul I become of my own accord attached to her. In consequence of that attachment, myself, though formless in reality, had to abide in multifarious forms. Indeed, though formless by nature I become endued with forms in consequence of my sense of meum, and thereby insulted and distressed. In consequence of my sense of meum, concerning the result of Prakriti, I am forced to take birth in diverse orders of Being. Alas, though really destitute of any sense of meum, yet in consequence of affecting it, what diverse acts of an evil nature have been committed by me in those orders which I took birth while I remained in them with a soul that had lost all knowledge! I have no longer anything to do with him who, with essence made up of consciousness, divides herself into many fragments and who seeks to unite me with them. It is only now that I have been awakened and have understood that I am by nature without any sense of meum and without that consciousness which creates the forms of Prakriti that invests me all around. Casting off that sense of meum which I always have with respect to her and whose essence is made up of consciousness, and casting off Prakriti herself, I shall take refuge in Him who is auspicious. I shall be united with Him, and not with Prakriti which is inanimate. If I unite with Him, it will be productive of my benefit. I have no similarity of nature with Prakriti!"--The twenty-fifth, (viz., Jiva), when he thus succeeds in understanding the Supreme, becomes able to cast off the Destructible and attain to identity with that which is Indestructible and which is the essence of all that is auspicious. Destitute of attributes in his true nature and in reality Unmanifest, Jiva becomes invested with what is Manifest and assumes attributes. When he succeeds in beholding that which is without attributes and which is the origin of the Unmanifest, he attains, O ruler of Mithila, to identify the same. "'"'I have now told thee what the indications are of what is Indestructible and what is Destructible, according to the best of my knowledge and according to what has been expounded in the scriptures. I shall now tell thee, according to what I have heard, as to how Knowledge that is subtile, stainless, and certain arises. Do thou listen to me. I have already discoursed to thee what the Sankhya and the Yoga systems are according to their respective indications as expounded in their respective scriptures. Verily, the science that has been expounded in Sankhya treatises is identical with what has been laid down in the Yoga scriptures. The knowledge, O monarch, which the Sankhya preach, is capable of awakening every one. In the Sankhya scriptures, that Knowledge has been inculcated very clearly for the benefit of disciples. The learned say that this Sankhya system is very extensive. Yogin have great regard for that system as also for the Vedas. In the Sankhya system no topic or principle transcending the twenty-fifth is admitted. That which the Sankhyas regard as their highest topic of principles has been duly described (by me). In the Yoga philosophy, it is said that Brahma, which is the essence of knowledge without duality, becomes Jiva only when invested with Ignorance. In the Yoga scriptures, therefore, both Brahma and Jiva are spoken of.'"'" SECTION CCCIX "'"Vasishtha said, 'Listen now to me as I discourse to thee on Buddhas (Supreme Soul) and Abuddha (Jiva) which is the dispensation of attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. Assuming many forms (under the influence of illusion) the Supreme Soul, becoming Jiva, regards all those forms as real.[1631] In consequence of (his regarding himself identical with) such transformations, Jiva fails to understand the Supreme Soul, for he bears the attributes (of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas) and creates and withdraws into himself what he creates. Ceaselessly for his sport, O monarch, does Jiva undergo modifications, and because he is capable of understanding the action of the Unmanifest, therefore is he called Budhyamana (the Comprehender).[1632] The Unmanifest or Prakriti can at no time comprehend Brahma which is really without attributes even when it manifests itself with attributes. Hence is Prakriti called Unintelligent. There is a declaration of the Srutis to the effect that if ever Prakriti does succeed in knowing the twenty-fifth (i.e., Jiva) Prakriti then (instead of being something differentiated from Jiva) becomes identified with Jiva who is united with her. (As regards, however, the Supreme Soul, which is ever disunited and dissociated, and which transcends the twenty-fifth Prakriti can never comprehend it). In consequence of this (viz., his attachment to or union with Prakriti), Jiva or Purusha, who is not manifest and which in his real nature is not subject to modifications, comes to be called as the Unawakened or Ignorant. Indeed because the twenty-fifth can comprehend the Unmanifest, he is therefore, called Budhyamana (or Comprehender). He cannot, however, readily comprehend the twenty-sixth, which is stainless, which is Knowledge without duality, which is immeasurable, and which is eternal. The twenty-sixth, however, can know both Jiva and Prakriti, numbering the twenty-fifth and the twenty-fourth respectively. O thou of great effulgence, only men of wisdom succeed in knowing that Brahma which is Unmanifest, which inheres in its real nature to all that is seen and unseen, and which, O son, is the one independent essence in the universe.[1633] When Jiva considers himself different from what he truly is (i.e. when he regards himself as fat or lean, fair or dark, a Brahmana or a Sudra), it is only then that he fails to know the Supreme Soul and himself and Prakriti with which he is united. When Jiva succeeds in understanding Prakriti (and knowing that she is something different from him) then he is said to be restored to his true nature and then does he attain to that high understanding which is pure and stainless and which is concerned with Brahma. When Jiva succeeds, O tiger among kings, in attaining to that excellent understanding, he then attains to that Pure Knowledge (without duality) which is called the twenty-sixth or (Brahma). He then casts off the Unmanifest or Prakriti which is fraught with the attributes of Creation and Destruction. When Jiva succeeds in knowing Prakriti which is unintelligent and subject to the action of the three attributes of Sattwa, and Rajas and Tamas, he then becomes destitute of attributes himself. In consequence of his thus understanding the Unmanifest (to be something different from him), he succeeds in acquiring the nature of the Supreme Soul. The learned say that when he is freed from the attributes of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas and united in the nature with the Supreme Soul then does Jiva become identified with that Soul. The Supreme Soul is called Tattwa as well as Not-Tattwa, and transcends decay and destruction.[1634] O giver of honours, the Soul, though it has the manifest principles (viz. the body) for its resting place, yet it cannot be said to have acquired the nature of those principles. The wise say that including the Jiva soul there are five and twenty principles in all. Indeed, O son, the Soul is not to be regarded as possessed of any of the principles (Mahat and the rest). Endued with Intelligence, it transcends the principles. It casts off quickly even that principle which is the indication of the Knowing or awakened one.[1635] When Jiva comes to regard himself as the twenty-sixth which is divested of decay and destruction, it is then that, without doubt, he succeeds by his own force in attaining to similarity with the twenty-sixth. Though awakened by the twenty-sixth which is Pure Intelligence, Jiva still becomes subject to Ignorance. This is the cause of Jiva, multifariousness (in respect of forms) as explained in the Srutis and the Sankhya scriptures. When Jiva, who is endued with Chetana and Unintelligent Prakriti, loses all Consciousness of a distinct or individual Self, then does he, losing his multifariousness, resumes his Oneness. O ruler of Mithila, when Jiva, who is found to be in union with happiness and misery and who is seldom free from the consciousness of Self, succeeds in attaining to a similarity with the Supreme Soul which is beyond the reach of the understanding, then does he becomes freed from virtue and vice. Indeed, when Jiva, attaining to the twenty-sixth which is Unborn and Puissant and which is dissociated from all attachments, succeeds in comprehending it thoroughly, he himself becomes possessed of puissance and entirely casts off the Unmanifest or Prakriti. In consequence of understanding the twenty-sixth, the four and twenty principles seems to Jiva to be unsubstantial or of no value. I have thus told thee, O sinless one, according to the indication of the Srutis, the nature of the Unintelligent or Prakriti, and of Jiva, so also of that which is Pure Knowledge viz., the Supreme Soul, agreeable to the truth. Guided by the scriptures, variety and oneness are thus to be understood. The difference between the gnat and the Udumvara, or that between the fish and water, illustrates the difference between the Jiva-soul and the Supreme Soul.[1636] The Multiplicity and Oneness of these two are then understood in this way. This is called Emancipation, viz., this comprehension or knowledge of oneself as something distinct from Unintelligent or Unmanifest Prakriti. The twenty-fifth, which resides in the bodies of living creatures, should be emancipated by making him know the Unmanifest or the Supreme Soul which transcends the understanding. Indeed, that twenty-fifth is capable of attaining to Emancipation in this way only and not through any other means, it is certain. Though really different from the Kshetra in which he resides for the time being, he partakes of the nature of that Kshetra in consequence of his union with it.[1637] Uniting with what is Pure, he becomes Pure. Uniting with the Intelligent, he becomes Intelligent. By uniting, O foremost of men, with one that is Emancipate, he becomes Emancipated. By uniting with one that has been freed from attachments of every kind, he becomes freed from all attachments. By uniting with one striving after Emancipation, he himself, partaking of the nature of his companion, strives after Emancipation. By uniting with one of pure deeds he becomes pure and of pure deeds and endued with blazing effulgence. By uniting with one of unstained soul, he becomes of unstained soul himself. By uniting with the One independent Soul, he becomes One and Independent. Uniting with One that is dependent on One's own Self, he becomes of the same nature and attains to Independence. "'"'O monarch, I have duly told thee all this that is perfectly true. Candidly have I discoursed to thee on this subject, viz., the Eternal and Stainless and Primeval Brahma. Thou mayst impart this high knowledge, capable of awakening the soul, unto that person, O king, who though not conversant with the Vedas is nevertheless, humble and has a keen desire for acquiring the knowledge of Brahma. It should never be imparted unto one that is wedded to falsehood, or one that is cunning or roguish, or one that is without any strength of mind or one that is of crooked understanding, or one that is jealous of men of knowledge, or one that gives pain to others. Listen to me as I say who they are unto whom this knowledge may safely be communicated. It should be given to one that is endued with faith, or one that is possessed of merit, or one that always abstains from speaking ill of others, or one that is devoted to penances from the purest of motives, or one that is endued with knowledge and wisdom, or one that is conversant of the sacrifices and other rites laid down in the Vedas, or one that is possessed of a forgiving disposition, or one that is inclined to take compassion on and do good to all creatures; or one that is fond of dwelling in privacy and solitude, or one that is fond of discharging all acts laid down in the scriptures, or one that is averse to quarrels and disputes, or one that is possessed of great learning or one endued with wisdom or one possessed of forgiveness and self-restraint and tranquillity of soul. This high knowledge of Brahma should never be communicated to one that is not possessed of such qualifications. It has been said that by imparting this knowledge to one that cannot be regarded as fit receptacle for holding it no advantage or good fruit can arise. Unto one that is not observant of any vows and restraints, this high knowledge should never be communicated even if he gives in exchange the whole Earth full of gems and wealth of every kind. Without doubt, however, O king, this knowledge should be given to one that has conquered one's senses. O Karala, let no fear be thine any longer, since thou hast heard all this regarding high Brahma from me today! I have discoursed to thee duly about high and holy Brahma that is without beginning and middle (and end) and that is capable of dispelling all kinds of grief. Beholding Brahma whose sight is capable of dispelling both birth and death, O king which is full of auspiciousness, which removes all fear, and which benefit, and having acquired this essence of all knowledge, cast off all error and stupefaction today! I had acquired this knowledge from the eternal Hiranyagarbha himself, O king, who communicated it to me for my having carefully gratified that great Being of every superior Soul. Asked by thee today, I have, O monarch, communicated the knowledge of eternal Brahma to thee just as I had myself acquired it from my teacher. Indeed, this high knowledge that is the refuge of all persons conversant with Emancipation has been imparted to thee exactly as I had it from Brahman himself!'" "'Bhishma continued, "I have thus told thee of high Brahma agreeably to what the great Rishi (Vasishtha) had said (unto king Karala of Janaka's race), by attaining to which the Twenty-fifth (or Jiva) has never to return. Jiva, in consequence of his not knowing truly the Supreme Soul which is not subject to decay and death, is obliged to frequently come back into the world. When, however, Jiva succeeds in acquiring that high knowledge, he has no longer to come back. Having heard it, O king, from the celestial Rishi, I have, O son, communicated to thee high knowledge productive of the highest good. This knowledge was obtained from Hiranyagarbha by the high-souled Rishi Vasishtha. From that foremost of Rishis, viz., Vasishtha, it was acquired by Narada. From Narada I have acquired that knowledge which is truly identifiable with the eternal Brahma. Having heard this discourse of high import, fraught with excellent words, do not, O foremost of the Kurus, yield any longer to grief. That man who knows Kshara and Akshara becomes freed from fear. He, indeed, O king, is obliged to cherish fear who is destitute of this knowledge. In consequence of Ignorance (of Brahma), the man of foolish soul hath repeatedly to come back into this world. Indeed, departing from this life, he has to be born in thousands and thousands of orders of Being every one of which hath death in the end. Now in the world of the deities, now among men, and now among intermediate orders of Being, he has to appear again and again. If in course of time he succeeds in crossing that Ocean of Ignorance in which he is sunk, he then succeeds in avoiding rebirth altogether and attaining to identity with the Supreme Soul. The Ocean of Ignorance is terrible. It is bottomless and called the Unmanifest. O Bharata, day after day, creatures are seen to fall and sink in that Ocean. Since thou, O king, hast been freed from that eternal and limitless Ocean of Ignorance, thou hast therefore become freed from Rajas and also Tamas."'" SECTION CCCX "'Bhishma said, "Once on a time a king of Janaka's race, while ranging the uninhabited forests in pursuit of deer, saw a superior Brahmana or Rishi of Bhrigu's race. Bowing with his head unto the Rishi who was seated at his ease, king Vasuman took his seat near him and obtaining his permission put to him this question: 'O holy one, what is productive of the highest benefit, both here and hereafter, to man who is endued with an unstable body and who is the slave of his desires? Properly honoured by the king, and thus questioned, that high-souled Rishi possessed of ascetic merit then said these words unto him that were highly beneficial.' "'"The Rishi said, 'If thou desirest both here and hereafter what is agreeable to thy mind, do thou then, with restrained senses, abstain from doing what is disagreeable to all creatures. Righteousness is beneficial unto them that are good. Righteousness is the refuge of those that are good. From Righteousness have flowed the three worlds with their mobile and immobile creatures. O thou that art eagerly desirous of enjoying all agreeable objects, how is it that thou art not yet satiated with objects of desire? Thou seest the honey, O thou of little understanding, but art blind to the fall[1638]. As one desirous of earning the fruits of knowledge should set oneself to the acquisition of knowledge, even so one desirous of earning the fruits of Righteousness should set oneself to the acquisition of Righteousness. If a wicked man from desire of virtue, strives to accomplish an act that is pure and stainless, the fulfilment of his desire becomes impossible. If, on the other hand, a good man, impelled by the desire of earning virtue, strives to accomplish an act that is even difficult, its accomplishment becomes easy for him. If, while residing in the woods, one acts in such a way as to enjoy all the pleasures of a residence amidst men in towns, one comes to be looked upon not as a forest recluse but as a denizen of towns. Similarly, if one, while residing in towns, acts in such a way as to enjoy the felicity that attaches to the life of a forest recluse, once comes to be looked upon not as a denizen of towns but as a forest recluse. Ascertaining the merits of the religion of Acts and that of Abstention from acts, do thou, with concentrated senses, be devoted to the practices of righteousness that appertain to thought, words, and deed. Judging of the propriety of time and place, purified by the observance of vows and other cleansing rites, and solicited (by them), do thou, without malice, make large gifts unto them that are good.[1639] Acquiring wealth by righteous means, one should give it away unto those that are deserving. One should make gifts, casting off anger; and having made gifts one should never give way to sorrow nor proclaim those gifts with one's own mouth. The Brahmana who is full of compassion, who is observant of candour, and whose birth is pure, has been regarded as a person deserving of gifts. A person is said to be pure in birth when he is born of mother that has only one husband and that belongs to the same order to which her husband belongs. Indeed, such a Brahmana, conversant with the three Vedas, viz., Rich, Yajush, and Saman, possessed of learning, duly observant of the six duties (of sacrificing on his own account, officiating at the sacrifices of others, learning, teaching, making gifts, and receiving gifts), has been regarded as deserving of gifts. Righteousness becomes unrighteousness, and unrighteousness becomes righteousness, according to the character of the doer, of time, and of place.[1640] Sin is cast off like the filth on one's body,--a little with a little exertion and a greater quantity when the exertion is greater. A person, after purging his bowels, should take ghee, which operates most beneficially on his system (as a healthy tonic). After the same manner, when one has cleansed oneself of all faults and sets oneself to the acquisition of righteousness, that righteousness, in the next world, proves to be productive of the highest happiness. Good and evil thoughts exist in the minds of all creatures. Withdrawing the mind from evil thoughts, it should always be directed towards good thoughts. One should always reverence the practices of one's own order. Do thou strive, therefore, to act in such a way that thou mayst have faith in the practices of thy own order. O thou that art endued with an impatient soul, betake thyself to the practice of patience. O thou that art of a foolish understanding, seek thou to be possessed of intelligence! Destitute of tranquillity, seek thou to be tranquil, and bereft of wisdom as thou art, do thou seek to act wisely! He who moves in the companionship of the righteous succeeds, by his own energy, in acquiring the means of accomplishing what is beneficial for him both in this and the next world. Verily, the root of the benefit (which thus becomes his here and hereafter) is unwavering firmness. The royal sage Mahabhisha, through want of this firmness, fell from heaven. Yayati, also, though his merits had become exhausted (in consequence of his boastfulness and thought was hurled down from heaven) succeeded in regaining regions of felicity through his firmness. Thou art sure to attain to great intelligence, as also to what is for thy highest good, by paying court to virtuous and learned persons possessed of ascetic merit.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of the sage, king Vasuman, possessed of a good disposition, withdrawing his mind from the pursuits of desire, set it upon the acquisition of Righteousness."'" SECTION CCCXI "'Yudhishthira said, "It behoveth thee, O grandsire, to discourse to me on that which is freed from duty and its reverse, which is freed from every doubt, which transcends birth and death, as also virtue and sin, which is auspiciousness, which is eternal fearlessness, which is Eternal and Indestructible, and Immutable, which is always Pure, and which is ever free from the toil of exertion." "'Bhishma said, "I shall in this connection recite to thee the old narrative, O Bharata, of the discourse between Yajnavalkya and Janaka. Once on a time the famous king Daivarati of Janaka's race, fully conversant with the import of all questions, addressed this question to Yajnavalkya, that foremost of Rishis. "'"Janaka said, 'O regenerate Rishi, how many kinds of senses are there? How many kinds also are there of Prakriti? What is the Unmanifest and highest Brahma? What is higher than Brahma? What is birth and what is death? What are the limits of Age? It behoveth thee, O foremost of Brahmanas, to discourse on all these topics unto me that am solicitous of obtaining thy grace; I am ignorant while thou art an Ocean of knowledge. Hence, I ask thee! Verily, I desire to hear thee discourse on all these subjects!' "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'Hear, O monarch, what I say in an answer to these questions of thine. I shall impart to thee the high knowledge which Yogins value, and especially that which is possessed by the Sankhyas. Nothing is unknown to thee. Still thou askest me. One however that is questioned should answer. This is the eternal practice. Eight principles have been called by the name of Prakriti, while sixteen have been called modifications. Of Manifest, there are seven. These are the views of those persons who are conversant with the science of Adhyatma. The Unmanifest (or original Prakriti), Mahat, Consciousness, and the five subtile elements of Earth, Wind, Space, Water, and Light,--these eight are known by the name of Prakriti. Listen now to the enumeration of those called modifications. They are the ear, the skin, the tongue, and the nose; and sound, touch, form, taste, and scent, as also speech, the two arms, the two feet, the lower duct (within the body), and the organs of pleasure.[1641] Amongst these, the ten beginning with sound, and having their origin in the five great principles,[1642] are called Visesha. The five senses of knowledge are called Savisesha, O ruler of Mithila. Persons conversant with the Science of Adhyatma regard the mind as the sixteenth. This is conformable to thy own views as also to those of other learned men well acquainted with the truths about principles. From the Unmanifest, O king, springs the Mahat-soul. The learned say this to be the first creation relating to Pradhana (or Prakriti): From Mahat, O king of men, is produced Consciousness. This has been called the second creation having the Understanding for its essence.[1643] From Consciousness hath sprung the Mind which is the essence of sound and the others that are the attributes of space and the rest. This is the third creation, said to relate to Consciousness. From mind have sprung the great elements, (numbering five), O king! Know that this is the fourth creation called mental, as I say. Persons conversant with the primal elements say that Sound and Touch and Form and Taste and Scent are the fifth creation, relating to the Great (primal) elements. The creation of the Ear, the Skin, the Tongue, and the Scent, forms the sixth and is regarded as having for its essence multiplicity of thought. The senses that come after the Ear and the others (i.e., the senses of action) then arise, O monarch. This is called seventh creation and relates to the senses of Knowledge. Then, O monarch, come the breath that rises upward (viz., Prana) and those that have a transverse motion (viz., Saman, Udana, and Vyana). This is the eighth creation and is called Arjjava.[1644] Then come those breaths that course transversely in the lower parts of the body (viz., Samana, Udana and Vyana) and also that called Apana coursing downwards. This ninth creation, is also called Arjjava, O king. These nine kinds of creation, and these principles, O monarch, which latter number four and twenty, are declared to thee according to what has been laid down in the scriptures. After this, O king, listen to me as I tell thee durations of time as indicated by the learned in respect of these principles or attribute.'"'" SECTION CCCXII "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'Listen to me, O foremost of men, as I tell thee what the duration of time is in respect to the Unmanifest (or the Supreme Purusha). Ten thousand Kalpas are said to constitute a single day of his. The duration of his night is equal. When his night expires, he awakes, O monarch, and first creates herbs and plants which constitute the sustenance of all embodied creatures. He then creates Brahman who springs from a golden egg. That Brahman is the form of all created things, as has been heard by us. Having dwelt for one whole year within that egg, the great ascetic Brahman, called also Prajapati (Lord of all creatures), came out of it and created the whole Earth, and the Heaven above. The Lord then, it is read in the Vedas, O king, placed the sky between Heaven and Earth separated from each other. Seven thousand and five hundred Kalpas measure the day of Brahman. Persons conversant with the science of Adhyatma say that his night also is of an equal duration. Brahmana, called Mahan, then creates Consciousness called Bhuta and endued with excellent essence.[1645] Before creating any physical bodies out of the ingredients called the Great elements, Mahan or Brahma, endued with penances, created four others called his sons. They are the sires of the original sires, O best of kings, as heard by us.[1646] It hath been also heard by us, O monarch, that the senses (of knowledge) along with the four inner faculties, have sprung from the (five Great elements called) Pitris, and that the entire universe of mobile and immobile Beings has been filled with those Great elements.[1647] The puissant Consciousness created the five Bhutas. These are Earth, Wind, Space, Water, and Light numbering the fifth. This Consciousness (who is a Great Being and) from whom springs the third creating, has five thousand Kalpas for his night, and his day is of equal duration. Sound, Touch, Form, Taste, and Scent,--these five are called Visesha. They inhere into the five great Bhutas. All creatures, O king, incessantly pervaded by these five, desire one another's companionship, become subservient to one another; and challenging one another, transcend one another; and led by those immutable and seductive principles, creatures kill one another and wander in this world entering into numerous orders of Being.[1648] Three thousands of Kalpas represent the duration of their day. The measure of their night also is the same.[1649] The Mind roveth over all things, O king, led on by the Senses. The Senses do not perceive anything. It is the Mind that perceives through them. The Eye sees forms when aided by the Mind but never by itself. When the Mind is distracted, the Eye fails to perceive with even the objects fully before it. It is commonly said that the Senses perceive. This is not true, for it is the Mind that perceives through the Senses. When the cessation takes place of the activity of the Mind, the cessation of the activity of the Senses follows. That is the cessation of the activity of the Senses which is the cessation of the activity of the Mind. One should thus regard the Senses to be under the domination of the Mind. Indeed, the Mind is said to be the Lord of all the Senses. O thou of great fame, these are all the twenty Bhutas in the Universe.'"'" SECTION CCCXIII "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'I have, one after another, told thee the order of the creation, with their total number, of the various principles, as also the extent of the duration of each. Listen now to me as I tell thee of their destruction. Listen to me how Brahman, who is eternal and undecaying, and who is without beginning and without end, repeatedly creates and destroys all created objects. When his day expires and night comes, he becomes desirous of sleep. At such a time the unmanifest and holy one urges the Being called Maharudra, who is conscious of his great powers, (for destroying the world). Urged by the unmanifest, that Being assuming the form of Surya of hundreds of thousands of rays, divides himself into a dozen portions each resembling a blazing fire. He then consumes with his energy, O monarch, without any loss of time, the four kinds of created beings, viz., viviparous, oviparous, filth-born, and vegetable. Within the twinkling of the eye all mobile and immobile creatures being thus destroyed, the Earth becomes on every side as bare as a tortoise shell. Having burnt everything on the face of the Earth, Rudra, of immeasurable might, then quickly fills the bare Earth with Water possessed of great force. He then creates the Yuga-fire which dries up that Water (into which the bare Earth has been dissolved). The Water disappearing, the great element of Fire continues to blaze fiercely. Then comes the mighty Wind of immeasurable force, in his eight forms, who swallows up quickly that blazing fire of transcendent force, possessed of seven flames, and identifiable with the heat existing every creature. Having swallowed up that fire, the Wind courses in every direction, upwards, downwards, and transversely. Then space of immeasurable existent swallowed up that Wind of transcendent energy. Then Mind cheerfully swallows up that immeasurable Space. Then that Lord of all creatures, viz., Consciousness, who is the Soul of everything, swallows up the Mind. Consciousness, in his turn, is swallowed up by the Mahat-soul who is conversant with the Past, the Present, and the Future. The incomparable Mahat-soul or Universe is then swallowed up by Sambhu, that Lord of all things, to whom the Yoga attributes of Anima, Laghima, Prapti, etc., naturally inhere, who is regarded as the Supreme and pure Effulgence that is Immutable. His hands and feet extend over every part; his eyes and head and face are everywhere, his ears reach every place, and he exists overwhelming all things. He is the heart of all creatures; His measure is of a digit of the thumb. That Infinite and supreme Soul, that Lord of all, thus swallows up the Universe. After this, what remains is the Undecaying and the Immutable, One who is without defect of any kind, who is the Creator of the Past, the Present, and the Future, and who is perfectly faultless, I have thus, O monarch, duly told thee of Destruction. I shall now discourse to thee on the subjects of Adhyatma, Adhibhuta, and Adhidaivata.'"'" SECTION CCCXIV "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'Brahmanas conversant with the topics of enquiry speak of the two feet as Adhyatma, the act of walking as Adhibhuta, and Vishnu as Adhidaivatam (of those two limbs). The lower duct (anal canal) is Adhyatma, its function of throwing out the excreta is Adhibhuta, and Mitra (Surya) is the Adhidaivata (of that organ). The organ of generation is called Adhyatma. Its agreeable function is called Adhibhuta, and Prajapati is its Adhidaivata. The hands are Adhyatma; their function as represented by acts is Adhibhuta; and Indra is the Adhidaivata of those limbs. The organs of speech are Adhyatma; the words uttered by them are Adhibhuta; and Agni is their Adhidaivata. The eye is Adhyatma; vision or form is its Adhibhuta; and Surya is the Adhidaivata of that organ. The ear is Adhyatma; sound is Adhibhuta; and the points of the horizon are its Adhidaivata. The tongue is Adhyatma, taste is its Adhibhuta; and Water is its Adhidaivata. The sense of scent is Adhyatma; odour is its Adhibhuta; and Earth is its Adhidaivata. The skin is Adhyatma; touch is its Adhibhuta; and Wind is its Adhidaivata. Mind has been called Adhyatma; that with which the Mind is employed is Adhibhuta; and Chandramas is its Adhidaivata. Consciousness is Adhyatma; conviction in one's identity with Prakriti is its Adhibhuta; and Mahat or Buddhi is its Adhidaivata. Buddhi is Adhyatma; that which is to be understood is its Adhibhuta; and Kshetrajna is its Adhidaivata. I have thus truly expounded to thee, O king, with its details taken individually, the puissance of the Supreme (in manifesting Himself in different forms) in the beginning, the middle, and the end, O thou that art fully conversant with the nature of the original topics or principles. Prakriti, cheerfully and of her own accord, as if for sport, O monarch, produces, by undergoing modifications herself, thousands and thousands of combinations of her original transformations called Gunahs. As men can light thousands of lamps from but a single lamp, after the same manner Prakriti, by modification, multiplies into thousands of existent objects the (three) attributes (of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas) of Purusha. Patience, joy, prosperity, satisfaction, brightness of all faculties, happiness, purity, health, contentment, faith, liberality, compassion, forgiveness, firmness, benevolence, equanimity, truth, acquittance of obligations, mildness, modesty, calmness, external purity, simplicity, observance of obligatory practices, dispassionateness, fearlessness of heart, disregard for the appearance or otherwise of good and evil as also for past acts, appropriation of objects only when obtained by gift, the absence of cupidity, regard for the interests of others, compassion for all creatures,--these have been said to be the qualities that attach to the attribute of Sattwa. The tale of qualities attaching to the attribute of Rajas consists of pride of personal beauty, assertion of lordship, war, disclination to give, absence of compassion, enjoyment and enduring of happiness and misery, pleasure in speaking ill of others, indulgence in quarrels and disputes of every kind, arrogance, discourtesy, anxiety, indulgence in hostilities, sorrow, appropriation of what belongs to others, shamelessness, crookedness, disunions, roughness, lust, wrath, pride, assertion of superiority, malice, and calumny. These are said to spring from the attributes of Rajas. I shall now tell thee of that assemblage of qualities which springs from Tamas. They are stupefaction of judgment, obscuration of every faculty, darkness and blind darkness. By darkness is implied death, and by blind darkness is meant wrath. Besides these, the other indications of Tamas are greediness in respect of all kinds of food, ceaseless appetite for both food and drink, taking pleasure in scents and robes and sports and beds and seats and sleep during the day and calumny and all kinds of acts proceeding from heedlessness, taking pleasure, from ignorance (of purer sources of joy) in dancing and instrumental and vocal music, and aversion for every kind of religion. These, indeed, are the indications of Tamas.'"'" SECTION CCCXV "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'These three, O foremost of men, (viz., Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas), are the attributes of Prakriti. These attach to all things of the universe and always inhere to them. The Unmanifest Purusha endued with the six Yoga attributes transforms himself by himself into hundreds and thousands and millions and millions of forms (by embracing these three attributes). Those that are conversant with the science of Adhyatma, say that unto the attribute of Sattwa is assigned a high, unto Rajas a middling, and unto Tamas, a low place in the universe. By the aid of unmixed righteousness one attains to a high end (viz., that of the deities or other celestial beings). Through righteousness mixed with sin one attains to the status of humanity. While through unmixed sin one sinks into a vile end (by becoming an animal or a vegetable etc.). Listen now to me, O king, as I speak to thee of the intermixture or compounds of the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. Sometimes Rajas is seen existing with Sattwa. Tamas also exists with Rajas. With Tamas may also be seen Sattwa. Then also may Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas be seen existing together and in equal proportions. They constitute the Unmanifest or Prakriti. When the Unmanifest (Purusha) becomes endued with only Sattwa, he attains to the regions of the deities. Endued with both Sattwa and Rajas, he takes birth among human beings. Endued with Rajas and Tamas, he takes birth among the intermediate order of Being. Endued with all three, viz., Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas, he attains to the status of humanity. Those high souled persons that transcend both righteousness and sin, attain, it is said, to that place which is eternal, immutable, undecaying, and immortal. Men of knowledge attain to births that are very superior, and their place is faultless and undecaying, transcending the ken of the senses, free from ignorance, above birth and death, and full of light that dispels all kinds of darkness. Thou hadst asked me about the nature of the Supreme residing in the Unmanifest, (viz., Purusha). I shall tell thee. Listen to me, O king. Even when residing in Prakriti, He is said to reside in His own nature without partaking of the nature of Prakriti.[1650] Prakriti, O king, is inanimate and unintelligent. When presided over by Purusha, then only can she create and destroy.' "'"Janaka said, 'Both Prakriti and Purusha, O thou of great intelligence, are without beginning and without end. Both of them are without form. Both of them are undecaying. Both of them, again, incomprehensible. How then, O foremost of Rishis, can it be said that one of them is inanimate and unintelligent? How, again, is the other said to be animate and intelligent? And why is the latter called Kshetrajna? Thou, O foremost of Brahmanas, art fully conversant with the entire religion of Emancipation. I desire to hear in detail of the religion of Emancipation in its entirety. Do thou discourse to me then of the existence and Oneness of Purusha, of his separateness from Prakriti, of the deities which attach to the body of the place to which embodied creatures repair when they die, and that place to which they may ultimately, in course of time, be able to go. Tell me also of the Knowledge described in the Sankhya system, and of the Yoga system separately. It behoveth thee also to speak of the premonitory symptoms of death, O best of men. All these topics are well known to thee even as an (emblic) myrobalan in thy hand!'"'" SECTION CCCXVI "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'That which is without attributes, O son, can never be explained by ascribing attributes to it. Listen, however, to me as I expound to thee what is possessed of attributes and what is devoid of them. High-souled Munis conversant with the truth regarding all the topics or principles say that when Purusha seizes attributes like a crystal catching the reflection of a red flower, he comes to be called as possessed of attributes; but when freed from attributes like the crystal freed from reflection, he comes to be viewed in his real nature, that is, as beyond all attributes.[1651] Unmanifest Prakriti is by her nature endued with attributes. She cannot transcend them. Destitute of intelligence by nature, she becomes attached to attributes. Unmanifest Prakriti cannot know anything, while Purusha, by his nature, is possessed of knowledge,--There is nothing higher than myself,--even this is what Purusha is always conscious of. For this reason the unmanifest (or Prakriti), although naturally inanimate and unintelligent, still becomes animate and intelligent in consequence of her union with Purusha who is Eternal and Indestructible instead of remaining in her own nature due to destructibility.[1652] When Purusha, through ignorance, repeatedly becomes associated with attributes, he fails to understand his own real nature and therefore he fails to attain to Emancipation. In consequence of Purusha's lordship over the principles that flow from Prakriti, he is said to partake of the nature of those principles. In consequence also of his agency in the matter of creation, he is said to possess the attribute of creation. In consequence of his agency in the matter of Yoga, he is said to possess the attribute of Yoga. For his lordship over those particular principles known by the name of Prakriti, he is said to possess the nature of Prakriti.[1653] For his agency in the matter of creating the seeds (of all immobile objects), he is said to partake of the nature of those seeds. And because he causes the several principles or attributes to start into life, he is, therefore, said to be subject to decay and destruction (for those principles themselves are subject thereto). In consequence, again, of his being the witness of everything, and in consequence also of there being nothing else than he, as also for his consciousness of identity with Prakriti, Yatis crowned with ascetic success, conversant with Adhyatma, and freed from fever of every kind, regard him as existing by himself without a second, immutable, unmanifest (in the form of Cause), unstable, and manifest (in the form of effects). This is what has been heard by us. Those Sankhyas, however, that depend upon Knowledge only (for their Emancipation) and the practice of compassion for all creatures, say that it is Prakriti which is One but Purushas are many.[1654] As a matter of fact, Purusha is different from Prakriti which though unstable, still appears as stable. As a blade of reed is different from its outer cover, even so is Purusha different from Prakriti. Indeed, the worm that is ensconced within the Udumvara should be known as different from the Udumvara. Though existing with the Udumvara, the worm is not to be regarded as forming a portion of the Udumvara. The fish is distinct from the water in which it lives, and the water is distinct from the fish that lives in it. Though the fish and water exist together, yet it is never drenched by water. The fire that is contained in an earthen sauce pan is distinct from the earthen sauce pan, and the sauce pan is distinct from the fire it contains. Although the fire exists in and with the sauce pan, yet it is not to be regarded as forming any part of it. The lotus-leaf that floats on a piece of water is distinct from the piece of water on which it floats. Its co-existence with water does not make it a portion of the water. The perennial existence of those objects in and with those mentioned, is never correctly understood by ordinary people. They who behold Prakriti and Purusha in any other light are said to possess a vision that is incorrect. It is certain that they have repeatedly to sink into terrible hell. I have thus told thee the philosophy of the Sankhyas that excellent science by which all things have been correctly ascertained. Ascertaining the nature of Purusha and Prakriti in this way, the Sankhyas attain to Emancipation. I have also told thee of the systems of those others that are conversant with the great principles of the universe. I shall now discourse to thee on the science of the Yogins.'"'" SECTION CCCXVII "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'I have already spoken to thee of the science of the Sankhyas. Listen now to me as I truly discourse on the science of the Yogins as heard and seen by me, O best of kings! There is no knowledge that can compare with that of the Sankhyas. There is no puissance that compares with that of Yoga. These two ordain the same practices, and both are regarded as capable of leading to Emancipation. Those men that are not blest with intelligence regard the Sankhya and the Yoga systems to be different from each other. We, however, O king, look upon them as one and the same, according to the conclusion to which we have arrived (after study and reflection). That which the Yogins have in view is the very same which the Sankhyas also have in view. He who sees both the Sankhya and the Yoga systems to be one and the same is to be regarded as truly conversant with the topics or principles that ordain the universe. Know, O king, that the vital breaths and the senses are the chief means for practising Yoga. By only regulating those breaths and the senses, Yogins wander everywhere at their will.[1655] When the gross body is destroyed, Yogins endued with subtile bodies possessed of the eight Yoga attributes of Anima, Laghima, Prapti, etc., wander over the universe, enjoying (in that body) all kinds of felicities, O sinless one. The wise have, in the scriptures, spoken of Yoga as conferring eight kinds of puissance. They have spoken of Yoga as possessed of eight limbs.[1656] Indeed, O king, they have not spoken of any other kind of Yoga. It has been said that the practices of Yogins excellent as these are (for their results), are of two kinds. Those two kinds, according to the indications occurring in the scriptures, are practices endued with attributes and those freed from attributes. The concentration of the mind on the sixteen objects named, with simultaneous regulation of the breath, O king, is one kind. The concentration of the mind in such a way as to destroy all difference between the contemplator, the object contemplated, and the act of contemplation along with subjugation of the senses, is of another kind. The first kind of Yoga is said to be that possessed of attributes; the second kind is said to be that freed from attributes.[1657] Then, again, regulation of the breath is Yoga with attributes. In Yoga without attributes, the mind, freed from its functions, should be fixed. Only the regulation of the breath which is said to be endued with attributes should, in the first instance, be practised, for, O ruler of Mithila, if the breath (that is inhaled and suspended) be exhaled without mentally reflecting the while upon a definite image (furnished by a limited mantra), the wind in the neophyte's system will increase to his great injury.[1658] In the first Yama of the night, twelve ways of holding the breath are recommended. After sleep, in the last Yama of the night, other twelve ways of doing the same have been laid down. Without doubt, one endued with tranquillity, of subdued senses, living in retirement, rejoicing in one's own self, and fully conversant with the import of the scriptures, should (regulating one's breath in these four and twenty ways) fix one's Soul (on the Supreme Soul).[1659] Dispelling the five faults of the five senses, viz., (withdrawing them from their objects of) sound, form, touch, taste, and scent, and dispelling those conditions called Pratibha and Apavarga, O ruler of the Mithilas, all the senses should be fixed upon the mind. The mind should then be fixed on Consciousness, O king, Consciousness should next be fixed on intelligence or Buddhi, and Buddhi, should then be fixed on Prakriti. Thus merging these one after another, Yogins contemplate the Supreme Soul which is One, which is freed from Rajas, which is stainless, which is Immutable and Infinite and Pure and without defect, who is Eternal Purusha, who is unchangeable, who is Indivisible, who is without decay and death, who is everlasting, who transcends diminution, and which is Immutable Brahma. Listen now, O monarch, to the indications of one that is in Yoga. All the indications of cheerful contentment that are his who is slumbering in contentment are seen in the person, that is in Samadhi. The person in Samadhi, the wise say, looks like the fixed and upward flame of a lamp that is full of oil and that burns in a breezeless spot. He is like a rock which is incapable of being moved in the slightest degree by ever a heavy downpour from the clouds. He is incapable of being moved by the din of conches and drums, or by songs or the sound of hundreds of musical instruments beat or blown together. Even this is the indication of one in Samadhi. As a man of cool courage and determination, while ascending a flight of steps with a vessel full of oil in his hands, does not spill even a drop of the liquid if frightened and threatened by persons armed with weapons even so the Yogin, when his mind has been concentrated and when he beholds the Supreme Soul in Samadhi, does not, in consequence of the entire stoppage of the functions of his senses at such a time, move in the slightest degree. Even these should be known to be the indication of the Yogin while he is in Samadhi. While in Samadhi, the Yogin beholds Brahma which is Supreme and Immutable, and which is situated like a blazing Effulgence in the midst of thick Darkness. It is by this means that he attains, after many years, to Emancipation after casting off this inanimate body. Even this is what the eternal Sruti declares. This is called the Yoga of the Yogins. What else is it? Knowing it, they that are endued with wisdom regard themselves as crowned with success.'"'" SECTION CCCXVIII "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'Listen now to me, with attention, O king, as to what the places are to which those who die have to go. If the Jiva-soul escapes through the feet, it is said that the man goes to the region of the Vishnu. If through the calves, it has been heard by us, that the man repairs to the regions of the Vasus. If through the knees, he attains to the companionship of those deities that are called Sadhyas. If through the lower duct, the man attains to the regions of Mitra. If through the posteriors, the man returns to the Earth, and if through the thighs to the region of Prajapati. If through the flanks, the man attains to the regions of the Maruts, and if through the nostrils, to the region of Chandramas. If through arms, the man goes to the region of Indra, and if through the chest, to that of Rudra. If through the neck, the man repairs to the excellent region of that foremost of ascetics known by the name of Nara. If through the mouth, the man attains to the region of the Viswadevas and if through the ears, to the region of the deities of the several points of the horizon. If through the nose, the man attains to the region of the Windgod; and if through the eyes, to the region of Agni. If through the brows, the man goes to the region of the Aswins; and if through the forehead, to that of Pitris. If through the crown of the head, the man attains to the region of the puissant Brahman, that foremost of the gods. I have thus told thee, O ruler of Mithila, the several places to which men repair according to the manner in which their Jiva-souls escape from their bodies. I shall now tell thee the premonitory indication, as laid down by the wise of those who have but one year to live. One, who having previously seen the fixed star called Arandhati, fails to see it, or that other star called Dhruva,[1660] or one that sees the full Moon or the flame of a burning lamp to be broken towards the south, has but one year to live. Those men, O king, who can no longer see images of themselves reflected in the eyes of others, have but one year to live. One, who, being endued with lustre loses it, or being endued with wisdom loses it,--indeed, one whose inward and outward nature is thus changed,--has but six months more to live. He, who disregards the deities, or quarrels with the Brahmanas, or one, who, being naturally of a dark complexion becomes pale of hue, has but six months more to live. One, who sees the lunar disc to have many holes like a spider's web, or one, who sees the solar disc to have similar holes has but one week more to live. One, who, when smelling fragrant scents in place of worship, perceives them to be as offensive as the scent of corpses, has but one week more to live. The depression of the nose or of the ears, the discolour of the teeth or of the eye, the loss of all consciousness, and the loss also of all animal heat, are symptoms indicating death that very day. If, without any perceptible cause a stream of tears suddenly flows from one's left eye, and if vapours be seen to issue from one's head, that is a sure indication that the man will die before that day expires. Knowing all these premonitory symptoms, the man of cleansed soul should day and night unite his soul with the Supreme Soul (in Samadhi). Thus should he go on till the day comes for his dissolution. If, however, instead of wishing to die he desires to live in this world, he casts off all enjoyments,--all scents and tastes,--O king, and lives on in abstinence. He thus conquers death by fixing his soul on the Supreme Soul. Indeed, the man, who is blessed with knowledge of the Soul, O monarch, practises the course of life recommended by the Sankhyas and conquers death by uniting his soul with the Supreme Soul. At last, he attains to what is entirely indestructible, which is without birth, which is auspicious, and immutable, and eternal, and stable, and which is incapable of being attained to by men of uncleansed souls.'"'" SECTION CCCXIX "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'Thou hast asked me, O monarch, of that Supreme Brahma which resides in the Unmanifest. Thy question relates to a deep mystery. Listen to me with close attention, O king! Having conducted myself with humility according to the ordinances laid down by the Rishis I obtained the Yajushes, O king, from Surya. Without the austerest penances I formerly adored the heat-giving deity. The puissant Surya, O sinless one, gratified with me, saying,--"Solicit thou, O regenerate Rishi, the boon upon which thou hast set thy heart, however difficult it may be of acquisition, I shall, with cheerful Soul, grant it to thee. It is very difficult to incline me to grace!" Bowing unto him with a bend of my head, that foremost of heat-giving luminaries was addressed by me in these words, "I have no knowledge of the Yajushes. I desire to know them without loss of time!"--The holy one, thus solicited, told me,--"I shall impart the Yajushes unto thee. Made up of the essence of speech, the goddess Saraswati will enter into thy body." The deity then commanded me to open my mouth. I did as I was commanded. The goddess Saraswati then entered into my body, O sinless one. At this, I began to burn. Unable to endure the pain I plunged into a stream. Not understanding that what the high-souled Surya had done for me was for my good, I became even angry with him. While I was burning with the energy of the goddess, the holy Surya told me,--"Do thou endure this burning sensation for only a little while. That will soon cease and thou wilt be cool." Indeed I became cool. Seeing me restored to ease, the Maker of light said unto me,--"The whole Vedas, with even those parts that are regarded as its appendix, together with the Upanishads, will appear in thee by inward light, O regenerate one! The entire Satapathas also thou wilt edit, O foremost of regenerate ones. After that, thy understanding will turn to the path of Emancipation. Thou wilt also attain to that end which is desirable and which is coveted by both Sankhyas and Yogins!"--Having said these words unto me, the divine Surya proceeded to the Asta hills. Hearing his last words, and after he had departed from the spot where I was, I came home in joy and then remembered the goddess Saraswati. Thought of by me, the auspicious Saraswati appeared instantly before my eyes, adorned with all the vowels and the consonants and having placed the syllable Om in the van, I then, according to the ordinance, offered unto the goddess the usual Arghya, and dedicated another to Surya, that foremost of all heat-giving deities. Discharging this duty I took my seat, devoted to both those deities. Thereupon, the entire Satapatha Brahmanas, with all their mysteries and with all their abstracts as also their appendices, appeared of themselves before my mental vision, at which I became filled with great joy.[1661] I then taught them to a hundred good disciples and thereby did what was disagreeable to my high-souled maternal uncle (Vaisampayana) with the disciples gathered round him.[1662] Then shining in the midst of my disciples like the Sun himself with his rays, I took the management of the Sacrifice of thy high-souled sire, O king. In that Sacrifice a dispute arose between me and my maternal uncle as to who should be permitted to appropriate the Dakshina that was paid for the recitation of the Vedas. In the very presence of Devala, I took half of that Dakshina (the other half going to my maternal uncle). Thy sire and Sumantra and Paila and Jaimini and other articles all acquiesced in that arrangement.[1663] "'"'I had thus got from Surya the five times ten Yajushes, O monarch. I then studied the Puranas with Romaharshan. Keeping before me those (original) Mantras and the goddess Saraswati I, then, O king, aided by the inspiration of Surya, set myself to compile the excellent Satapatha Brahmanas, and succeeded in achieving the task never before undertaken by any one else. That path which I had desired to take has been taken by me and I have also taught it to my disciples. Indeed, the whole of those Vedas with their abstracts have been imparted by me to those disciples of mine. Pure in mind and body, all those disciples have, in consequence of my instructions, become filled with joy. Having established (for the use of others) this knowledge consisting of fifty branches which I had obtained from Surya, I now meditate on the great object of that knowledge viz., (Brahma). The Gandharva Viswavasu, well-conversant with the Vedanta scriptures, desirous, O king, of ascertaining what is beneficial for the Brahmanas in this knowledge and what truth occurs in it, and what is the excellent object of this knowledge, one questioned me. He put to me altogether four and twenty questions, O king, relating to the Vedas. Finally, he asked me a question, numbered twenty-fifth which relates to that branch of knowledge which is concerned with the inferences of ratiocination. Those questions are as follows: What is universe and what is not-universe? What is Aswa and what Aswa? What is Mitra? What is Varuna? What is Knowledge? What is Object of knowledge? What is Unintelligent? What is Intelligent? Who is Kah? Who is possessed of the principle of change? Who is not possessed of the same? What is he that devours the Sun and what is the Sun? What is Vidya and what is Avidya? What is Immobile and what Mobile? What is without beginning, what is Indestructible, and what is Destructible? These were the excellent questions put to me by that foremost of Gandharvas. After king Viswavasu, that foremost of Gandharvas, had asked me these questions one after another, I answered them properly. At first, however, I told him, Wait for a brief space of time, till I reflect on thy questions! So be it, Gandharva said, and sat in silence. I then thought once again of the goddess Saraswati in my mind. The replies then to those questions naturally arose in my mind like butter from curds. Keeping in view the high science of inferential ratiocination, I churned with my mind, O monarch, the Upanishads and the supplementary scriptures relating to the Vedas. The fourth science then that treats of Emancipation, O foremost of kings, and on which I have already discoursed to thee, and which is based upon the twenty-fifth, viz., Jiva, I then expounded to him.[1664] Having said all this, O monarch, to king Viswavasu, I then addressed him, saying, "Listen now to the answers that I give unto the several questions that thou hast put to me. I now turn to the question, which, O Gandharva, thou askest, viz., What is Universe and what is not-universe? The Universe is Unmanifest and original Prakriti endued with the principles of birth and death which are terrible (to those that are desirous of Emancipation). It is, besides, possessed of the three attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas), in consequence of its producing principles all of which are fraught with those attributes.[1665] That which is Not-universe is Purusha divested of all attributes. By Aswa and Aswa are meant the female and the male, i.e., the former is Prakriti and the latter is Purusha. Similarly, Mitra is Purusha, and Varuna is Prakriti.[1666] Knowledge, again, is said to be Prakriti, while the object to be known is called Purusha. The Ignorant (Jiva), and the Knowing or Intelligent are both Purusha without attributes (for it is Purusha that becomes Jiva when invested with Ignorance). Thou hast asked what is Kah, who is endued with change and who is unendued therewith. I answer, Kah is Purusha.[1667] That which is endued with change is Prakriti. He that is not endued therewith is Purusha. Similarly, that which is called Avidya (the unknowable) is Prakriti; and that which is called Vidya is Purusha. Thou hast asked me about the Mobile and the Immobile. Listen to what my answer is. That which is mobile is Prakriti, which undergoing modification, constitutes the cause of Creation and Destruction. The Immobile is Purusha, for without himself undergoing modifications he assists at Creation and Destruction. (According to a different system of philosophy) that which is Vedya is Prakriti; while that which is Avedya is Purusha. Both Prakriti and Purusha are said to be unintelligent, stable, indestructible, unborn, and eternal, according to the conclusions arrived at by philosophers conversant with the topics included in the name of Adhyatma. In consequence of the indestructibility of Prakriti in the matter of Creation, Prakriti, which is unborn, is regarded as not subject to decay or destruction. Purusha, again, is indestructible and unchangeable, for change it has none. The attributes that reside in Prakriti are destructible, but not Prakriti herself. The learned, therefore, call Prakriti indestructible. Prakriti also, by undergoing modifications, operates as the cause of Creation. The created results appear and disappear, but not original Prakriti. Hence also is Prakriti called indestructible. Thus have I told thee conclusions of the Fourth Science based on the principles of ratiocinative inference and having Emancipation for its end. Having acquired by the science of ratiocinative inference and by waiting upon preceptors, the Rich, the Samans, and the Yajushes, all the obligatory practices should be observed and all the Vedas studied with reverence, O Viswavasu! O foremost of Gandharvas, they who study the Vedas with all their branches but who do not know the Supreme Soul from which all things take their birth and into which all things merge when destruction comes, and which is the one object whose knowledge the Vedas seek to inculcate. Indeed, they, who have no acquaintance with that which the Vedas seek to establish, study the Vedas to no purpose and bear their burthen of such study in vain. If a person desirous of butter churns the milk of the she-ass, without finding what he seeks he simply meets with a substance that is as foul of smell as ordure. After the same manner, if one, having studied the Vedas, fails to comprehend what is Prakriti and what is Purusha, one only proves one's own foolishness of understanding and bears a useless burthen (in the form of Vedic lore).[1668] One should, with devoted attention, reflect on both Prakriti and Purusha, so that one may avoid repeated birth and death. Reflection upon the fact of one's repeated births and deaths and avoiding the religion of acts that is productive at best of destructible results, one should betake oneself to the indestructible religion of Yoga. O Kasyapa, if one reflects continuously on the nature of the Jiva-soul and its connection with the Supreme Soul, one then succeeds in divesting oneself of all attributes and in beholding the Supreme Soul. The Eternal and Unmanifest Supreme Soul is regarded by men of foolish understandings to be different from the twenty-fifth or Jiva-soul. They are endued with wisdom that behold both these as truly one and the same. Frightened at repeated births and deaths, the Sankhyas and Yogins regard the Jiva-soul and the Supreme Soul to be one and the same. "'"'Viswavasu then said, "Thou hast, O foremost of Brahmanas, said that Jiva-soul is indestructible and truly undistinguished from the Supreme Soul. This, however, is difficult to understand. It behoveth thee to once more discourse on this topic to me. I have heard discourses on this subject from Jaigishavya, Aista, Devala, the regenerate sage Parasara, the intelligent Varshaganya, Bhrigu, Panchasikha Kapila, Suka, Gautama, Arshtisena, the high-souled Garga, Narada, Asuri, the intelligent Paulastya, Sanatkumara, the high-souled Sukra, and my sire Kasyapa. Subsequently I heard the discourses of Rudra and the intelligent Viswarupa, of several of the deities, of the Pitris and the Daityas. I have acquired all that they say, for they generally discourse that eternal object of all knowledge. I desire, however, to hear what thou mayst say on those topics with the aid of thy intelligence. Thou art the foremost of all persons, and a learned lecturer on the scriptures, and endued with great intelligence. There is nothing that is unknown to thee. Thou art an ocean of the Srutis, as described, O Brahmana, in the world of both the deities and Pitris. The great Rishis residing in the region of Brahma say that Aditya himself, the eternal lord of all luminaries, is thy preceptor (in the matter of this branch of knowledge). O Yajnavalkya, thou hast obtained the entire science, O Brahmana, of the Sankhyas, as also the scriptures of the Yogins in particular. Without doubt, thou art enlightened, fully conversant with the mobile immobile universe. I desire to hear thee discourse on that knowledge, which may be likened to clarified butter endued with solid grains." "'"Yajnavalkya said, 'Thou art, O foremost of Gandharvas, competent to comprehend every knowledge. As, however, thou askest me do thou hear me then discourse to thee according as I myself have obtained it from my preceptor. Prakriti, which is unintelligent, is apprehended by Jiva. Jiva, however, cannot be apprehended by Prakriti, O Gandharva. In consequence of Jiva being reflected in Prakriti, the latter is called Pradhana by Sankhyas and Yogins conversant with the original principles as indicated in the Srutis. O sinless one, the other, beholding, beholds the twenty-fourth (Prakriti) and the twenty-fifth (Soul); not beholding, it beholds the twenty-sixth.[1669] The twenty-fifth thinks that there is nothing higher than itself. In reality, however, though beholding, it does not behold that (viz., the twenty-sixth) which beholds it.[1670] Men possessed of wisdom should never accept the Twenty-fourth (viz., Prakriti, which is unintelligent or inert) as identifiable with the Twenty-fifth or the Soul which has a real and independent existence. The fish live in water. It goes thither impelled by its own nature. As the fish, though living in the water, is to be regarded as separate from it, after the same manner is the Twenty-fifth to be apprehended (i.e., though the Twenty-fifth exists in a state of contact with the Twenty-fourth or Prakriti, it is, however, in its real nature, separate from and independent of Prakriti). When overwhelmed with the consciousness of meum or self, and when unable to understand its identity with the Twenty-sixth, in fact, in consequence of the illusion that invests it, of its co-existence with Prakriti, and of its own manner of thinking, the Jiva-soul always skins down, but when freed from such consciousness it goes upwards. When the Jiva-soul succeeds in apprehending that it is one, and Prakriti with which it resides is another, then only does it, O regenerate one, succeed in beholding the Supreme Soul and attaining to the condition of Oneness with the universe. The Supreme is one, O king, and the Twenty-fifth (or Jiva-soul) is another. In consequence, however, of the Supreme overlying the Jiva-soul the wise regard both to be one and the same.[1671] For these reasons, Yogins, and followers of the Sankhya system of philosophy, terrified by the birth and death, blessed with sight of the Twenty-sixth, pure in body and mind, and devoted to the Supreme Soul, do not welcome the Jiva-soul as indestructible.[1672] When one beholds the Supreme Soul and losing all consciousness of individuality becomes identified with the Supreme, one then becomes omniscient, and possessed of such omniscience one becomes freed from the obligation of rebirth. I have thus discoursed to thee truly, sinless one, about Prakriti which is unintelligent, and Jiva-soul which is possessed of intelligence, and the Supreme Soul which is endued with omniscience, according to the indications occurring in the Srutis. That man, who beholds not any difference between the knower or the known, is both Kevala and not-Kevala, is the original cause of the universe, is both Jiva-soul and the Supreme Soul.'[1673] "'"'Viswavasu said, "O puissant one, thou hast duly and adequately discoursed on that which is the origin of all the deities and which is productive of Emancipation. Thou hast said what is true and excellent. May inexhaustible blessings always attend thee, and may thy mind be ever united with intelligence!"' "'"Yajnavalkya continued, 'Having said those words, the prince of Gandharvas proceeded towards heaven, shining in resplendence of beauty. Before leaving me, the high-souled one duly honoured me by taking the accustomed turns round my person, and I looked upon him, highly pleased. He inculcated the science he had obtained from me unto those celestials that dwell in the regions of Brahman and other deities, unto those that dwell on Earth, unto also the denizens of the nether regions, and unto them that had adopted the path of Emancipation, O king. The Sankhyas are devoted to the practices of their system. The Yogins are devoted to the practices inculcated by their system. Others there are that are desirous of achieving their Emancipation. Unto these latter this science is productive of visible fruits, O lion among kings. Emancipation flows from Knowledge. Without Knowledge it can never be attained. The wise have said it, O monarch. Hence, one should strive one's best for acquiring true Knowledge in all its details, by which one may succeed in freeing oneself from birth and death. Obtaining knowledge from a Brahmana or a Kshatriya or Vaisya or even a Sudra who is of low birth, one endued with faith should always show reverence for such knowledge. Birth and death cannot assail one that is endued with faith. All orders of men are Brahmanas. All are sprung from Brahma. All men utter Brahma.[1674] Aided by an understanding that is derived from and directed to Brahma, I inculcated this science treating of Prakriti and Purusha. Indeed, this whole universe is Brahma. From the mouth of Brahma sprung the Brahmanas; from his arms, sprung the Kshatriyas; from his navel, the Vaisya; and from his feet, the Sudras. All the orders, (having sprung in this way) should not be regarded as pilfering from one another. Impelled by Ignorance, all men meet with death and attain, O king, to birth that is the cause of acts.[1675] Divested of Knowledge, all orders of men, dragged by terrible Ignorance, fall into varied orders of being due to the principles that flow from Prakriti. For this reason, all should, by every means, seek to acquire Knowledge. I have told thee that every person is entitled to strive for its acquisition. One that is possessed of Knowledge is a Brahmana. Others, (viz., Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras) are possessed of knowledge. Hence, this science of Emancipation is always open to them all. This, O king has been said by the Wise. The questions thou hadst asked me have all been answered by me agreeably to the truth. Do thou, therefore, cast off all grief. Go thou to the other end of this enquiry. Thy questions were good. Blessings on thy head for ever!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Thus instructed by the intelligent Yajnavalkya the king of Mithila became filled with joy. The king honoured that foremost of ascetics by walking round his person. Dismissed by the monarch, he departed from his court. King Daivarati, having obtained the knowledge of the religion of Emancipation, took his seat, and touching a million of kine and a quantity of gold and a measure of gems and jewels, gave them away unto a number of Brahmanas. Installing his son in the sovereignty of the Videhas, the old king began to live, adopting the practices of the Yatis. Thinking mainly of all ordinary duties and their derelictions (as laid down in the scriptures), the king began to study the science of the Sankhyas and the Yogins in their entirety. Regarding himself to be Infinite, he began to reflect on only the Eternal and Independent One. He cast off all ordinary duties and their derelictions, Virtue and Vice, Truth and Falsehood, Birth and Death, and all other things appertaining to the principles produced by Prakriti. Both Sankhyas and Yogins, agreeably to the teachings of their sciences, regard this universe to be due to the action of the Manifest and the Unmanifest. The learned say that Brahma is freed from good and evil, is self-dependent, the highest of the high, Eternal, and Pure. Do thou, therefore, O monarch, become Pure! The giver, the receiver of the gift, the gift itself, and that which is ordered to be given away, are all to be deemed as the unmanifest Soul. The Soul is the Soul's one possession. Who, therefore, can be a stranger to one? Do thou think always in this way. Never think otherwise. He who does not know what is Prakriti possessed of attributes and what is Purusha transcending attributes, only he, not possessed as he is of knowledge, repairs to sacred waters and performs sacrifices. Not by study of the Vedas, not by penances, not by sacrifices O son of Kuru, can one attain to the status of Brahma. Only when one succeeds in apprehending the Supreme or Unmanifest, one comes to be regarded with reverence. They who wait upon Mahat attain to regions of Mahat. They who wait upon Consciousness, attain to the spot that belongs to Consciousness. They who wait upon what is higher attain to places that are higher than these. Those persons, learned in the scriptures, who succeed in apprehending Eternal Brahma who is higher than Unmanifest Prakriti, succeed in obtaining that which transcends birth and death, which is free from attributes, and which is both existent and non-existent. I got all this knowledge from Janaka. The latter had obtained it from Yajnavalkya. Knowledge is very superior. Sacrifices cannot compare with it. With the aid of Knowledge one succeeds in crossing the world's ocean which is full of difficulties and dangers. One can never cross that ocean by means of sacrifices. Birth and death, and other impediments, O king, men of knowledge say, one cannot pass over by ordinary exertion.[1676] Men attain to heaven through sacrifices, penances, vows, and observances. But they have again to fall down therefrom on the Earth. Do thou, therefore, adore with reverence that which is Supreme, most pure, blessed, stainless, and sacred, and which transcends all states (being Emancipation itself). By apprehending Kshetra, O king, and by performing the Sacrifice that consists in the acquisition of Knowledge, thou wilt really be wise. In former time, Yajnavalkya did that good to king Janaka which is derivable from a study of the Upanishads. The Eternal and Immutable Supreme was the topic about which the great Rishi had discoursed to the king of Mithila. It enabled him to attain to that Brahma which is auspicious, and immortal, and which transcends all kinds of sorrow."'" SECTION CCCXX "'Yudhishthira said, "Having acquired great power and great wealth, and having obtained a long period of life, how may one succeed in avoiding death? By which of these means, viz., penances, or the accomplishment of the diverse acts (laid down in the Vedas), or by knowledge of the Srutis, or the application of medicines, can one succeed in avoiding decrepitude and death?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of Panchasikha who was a Bhikshu in his practices and Janaka. Once on a time Janaka, the ruler of the Videhas, questioned the great Rishi Panchasikha, who was the foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas and who had all his doubts removed in respect of the purpose and import of all duties. The King said,--'By what conduct, O holy one may one transcend decrepitude and death? Is it by penances, or by the understanding, or by religious acts (like sacrifices, and vows), or by study and knowledge of the scriptures?'--Thus addressed by the ruler of the Videhas the learned Panchasikha, conversant with all invisible things, answered, saying,--'There is no prevention of these two (viz., decrepitude and death); nor is it true that they cannot be prevented under any circumstances. Neither days, nor nights, nor months, cease to go on. Only that man, who, though transitory, betakes himself to the eternal path (of the religion of Nivritti or abstention from all acts) succeeds in avoiding birth and death. Destruction overtakes all creatures. All creatures seem to be ceaselessly borne along the infinite current of time. Those that are borne along the infinite current of time which is without a raft (to rescue) and which is infested by those two mighty alligators, viz., decrepitude and death, sink down without anybody coming to their assistance. As one is swept along that current, one fails to find any friend for help and one fails to be inspired with interest for any one else. One meets with spouses and other friends only on one's road. One had never before enjoyed this kind of companionship with any one for any length of time. Creatures, as they are borne along the current of time, become repeatedly attracted towards one another like masses of clouds moved by the wind meeting one another with loud sound. Decrepitude and death are devourers of all creatures, like wolves. Indeed, they devour the strong and the weak, the short and the tall. Among creatures, therefore, which are all so transitory, only the Soul exists eternally. Why should he, then, rejoice when creatures are born and why should he grieve when they die? Whence have I come. Who am I? Whither shall I go? Whose am I? Before what do I rest? What shall I be? For what reason then dost thou grieve for what? Who else then thou wilt behold heaven or hell (for what thou doest)? Hence, without throwing aside the scriptures, one should make gifts and perform sacrifices!'"'" SECTION CCCXXI "'Yudhishthira said, "Without abandoning the domestic mode of life, O royal sage of Kuru's race, who ever attained to Emancipation which is the annihilation of the Understanding (and the other faculties)? Do tell me this! How may the gross and the subtile form be cast off? Do thou also, O grandsire, tell me what the supreme excellence of Emancipation is." "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Janaka and Sulabha, O Bharata! In days of yore there was a king of Mithila, of the name of Dharmadhyaja, of Janaka's race. He was devoted to the practices of the religion of Renunciation. He was well conversant with the Vedas, with the scriptures on Emancipation, and with the scriptures bearing on his own duty as a king. Subjugating his senses, he ruled his Earth. Hearing of his good behaviour in the world, many men of wisdom, well-conversant with wisdom, O foremost of men, desired to imitate him. In the same Satya Yuga, a woman of the name of Sulabha, belonging to the mendicant order, practised the duties of Yoga and wandered over the whole Earth. In course of her wanderings over the Earth, Sulabha heard from many Dandis of different places that the ruler of Mithila was devoted to the religion of Emancipation. Hearing this report about king Janaka and desirous of ascertaining whether it was true or not, Sulabha became desirous of having a personal interview with Janaka. Abandoning, by her Yoga powers, her former form and features, Sulabha assumed the most faultless features and unrivalled beauty. In the twinkling of an eye and with the speed of the quickest shaft, the fair-browed lady of eyes like lotus-petals repaired to the capital of the Videhas. Arrived at the chief city of Mithila teeming with a large population, she adopted the guise of a mendicant and presented herself before the king. The monarch, beholding her delicate form, became filled with wonder and enquired who she was, whose she was, and whence she came. Welcoming her, he assigned her an excellent seat, honoured her by offering water to wash her feet, and gratified her with excellent refreshments. Refreshed duly and gratified with the rites of hospitality offered unto her, Sulabha, the female mendicant, urged the king, who was surrounded by his ministers and seated in the midst of learned scholars, (to declare himself in respect of his adherence to the religion of Emancipation). Doubting whether Janaka had succeeded in attaining to Emancipation, by following the religion of Nivritti, Sulabha, endued with Yoga-power, entered the understanding of the king by her own understanding. Restraining, by means of the rays of light that emanated from her own eyes, the rays issuing from the eyes of the king, the lady, desirous of ascertaining the truth, bound up king Janaka with Yoga bonds.[1677] That best of monarchs, priding himself upon his own invincibleness and defeating the intentions of Sulabha seized her resolution with his own resolution.[1678] The king, in his subtile form, was without the royal umbrella and sceptre. The lady Sulabha, in hers, was without the triple stick. Both staying then in the same (gross) form, thus conversed with each other. Listen to that conversation as it happened between the monarch and Sulabha. "'"Janaka said, 'O holy lady, to what course of conduct art thou devoted? Whose art thou? Whence hast thou come? After finishing thy business here, whither wilt thou go? No one can, without questioning, ascertain another's acquaintance with the scriptures, or age, or order of birth. Thou shouldst, therefore, answer these questions of mine, when thou has come to me. Know that I am truly freed from all vanity in respect of my royal umbrella and sceptre. I wish to know thee thoroughly. Thou art deserving I hold, of my respect.[1679] Do thou listen to me as I speak to thee on Emancipation for there is none else (in this world) that can discourse to thee on that topic. Hear me also. I tell thee who that person is from whom in days of old I acquired this distinguishing knowledge.[1680] I am the beloved disciple of the high-souled and venerable Panchasikha, belonging to the mendicant order, of Parasara's race. My doubts have been dispelled and am fully conversant with the Sankhya and the Yoga systems, and the ordinances as in respect of sacrifices and other rites, which constitutes the three well-known paths of Emancipation.[1681] Wandering over the earth and pursuing the while the path that is pointed out by the scriptures, the learned Panchasikha formerly dwelt in happiness in my abode for a period of four months in the rainy season. That foremost of Sankhyas discoursed to me, agreeably to the truth, and in an intelligible manner suited to my comprehension, on the several kinds of means for attaining to Emancipation. He did not, however, command me to give up my kingdom. Freed from attachments, and fixing my Soul on supreme Brahma, and unmoved by companionship, I lived, practising in its entirety that triple conduct which is laid down in treatises on Emancipation. Renunciation (of all kinds of attachments) is the highest means prescribed for Emancipation. It is from Knowledge that Renunciation, by which one becomes freed, is said to flow. From Knowledge arises the endeavour after Yoga, and through that endeavour one attains to knowledge of Self or Soul. Through knowledge of Self one transcends joy and grief. That enables one to transcend death and attain to high success. That high intelligence (knowledge of Self) has been acquired by me, and accordingly I have transcended all pairs of opposites. Even in this life have I been freed from stupefaction and have transcended all attachments. As a soil, saturated with water and softened thereby, causes the (sown) seed to sprout forth, after the same manner, the acts of men cause rebirth. As a seed, fried on a pan or otherwise, becomes unable to sprout forth although the capacity for sprouting was there, after the same manner my understanding having been freed from the productive principle constituted by desire, by the instruction of the holy Panchasikha of the mendicant order, it no longer produces its fruit in the form of attachment to the object of the senses. I never experience love for my spouse or hate for my foes. Indeed, I keep aloof from both, beholding the fruitlessness of attachment and wrath. I regard both persons equally, viz., him that smears my right hand with sandal-paste and him that wounds my left. Having attained my (true) object, I am happy, and look equally upon a clod of earth, a piece of stone, and a lump of gold. I am freed from attachments of every kind, though am engaged in ruling a kingdom. In consequence of all this I am distinguished over all bearers of triple sticks. Some foremost of men that are conversant with the topic of Emancipation say that Emancipation has a triple path, (these are knowledge, Yoga, and sacrifices and rites). Some regard knowledge having all things of the world for its object as the means of emancipation. Some hold that the total renunciation of acts (both external and internal) is the means thereof. Another class of persons conversant with the scriptures of Emancipation say that Knowledge is the single means. Other, viz. Yatis, endued with subtile vision, hold that acts constitute the means. The high-souled Panchasikha, discarding both the opinion about knowledge and acts, regarded the third as the only means of Emancipation. If men leading the domestic mode of life be endued with Yama and Niyama, they become the equals of Sannyasins. If, on the other hand, Sannyasins be endued with desire and aversion and spouses and honour and pride and affection, they become the equals of men leading domestic modes of life.[1682] If one can attain to Emancipation by means of knowledge, then may Emancipation exist in triple sticks (for there is nothing to prevent the bearers of such stick from acquiring the needful knowledge). Why then may Emancipation not exist in the umbrella and the sceptre as well, especially when there is equal reason in taking up the triple stick and the sceptre?[1683] One becomes attached to all those things and acts with which one has need for the sake of one's own self for particular reasons.[1684] If a person, beholding the faults of the domestic mode of life, casts it off for adopting another mode (which he considers to be fraught with great merit), he cannot, for such rejection and adoption be regarded as one that is once freed from all attachments, (for all that he has done has been to attach himself to a new mode after having freed himself from a previous one).[1685] Sovereignty is fraught with the rewarding and the chastising of others. The life of a mendicant is equally fraught with the same (for mendicants also reward and chastise those they can). When, therefore, mendicants are similar to kings in this respect, why would mendicants only attain to Emancipation, and not kings? Notwithstanding the possession of sovereignty, therefore, one becomes cleansed of all sins by means of knowledge alone, living the while in Supreme Brahma. The wearing of brown cloths, shaving of the head, bearing of the triple stick, and the Kamandalu,--these are the outward signs of one's mode of life. These have no value in aiding one to the attainment of Emancipation. When, notwithstanding the adoption of these emblems of a particular mode of life, knowledge alone becomes the cause of one's Emancipation from sorrow, it would appear that the adoption of mere emblems is perfectly useless. Or, if, beholding the mitigation of sorrow in it, thou hast betaken thyself to these emblems of Sannyasi, why then should not the mitigation of sorrow be beheld in the umbrella and the sceptre to which I have betaken myself? Emancipation does not exist in poverty; nor is bondage to be found in affluence. One attains to Emancipation through Knowledge alone, whether one is indigent or affluent. For these reasons, know that I am living in a condition of freedom, though ostensibly engaged in the enjoyments of religion, wealth, and pleasure, in the form of kingdom and spouses, which constitute a field of bondage (for the generality of men). The bonds constituted by kingdom and affluence, and the bondage to attachments, I have cut off with the sword of Renunciation whetted on the stone of the scriptures bearing upon Emancipation. As regards myself then, I tell thee that I have become freed in this way. O lady of the mendicant order, I cherish an affection for thee. But that should not prevent me from telling thee that thy behaviour does not correspond with the practices of the mode of life to which thou hast betaken thyself! Thou hast great delicacy of formation. Thou hast an exceedingly shapely form. Thy age is young. Thou hast all these, and thou hast Niyama (subjugation of the senses). I doubt it verily. Thou hast stopped up my body (by entering into me with the aid of the Yoga power) for ascertaining as to whether I am really emancipated or not. This act of thine ill corresponds with that mode of life whose emblems thou bearest. For Yogin that is endued with desire, the triple stick is unfit. As regards thyself, thou dost not adhere to thy stick. As regards those that are freed, it behoves even them to protect themselves from fall.[1686] Listen now to me as to what thy transgression has been in consequence of thy contact with me and thy having entered into my gross body with the aid of thy understanding. To what reason is thy entrance to be ascribed into my kingdom or my palace? At whose sign hast thou entered into my heart?[1687] Thou belongest to the foremost of all the orders, being, as thou art, a Brahmana woman. As regards myself, however, I am a Kshatriya. There is no union for us two. Do not help to cause an intermixture of colours. Thou livest in the practice of those duties that lead to Emancipation. I live in the domestic mode of life. This act of thine, therefore, is another evil thou hast done, for it produces an unnatural union of two opposite modes of life. I do not know whether thou belongest to my own gotra or dost not belong to it. As regards thyself also, thou dost not know who I am (viz., to what gotra I belong). If thou art of my own gotra, thou hast, by entering into my person, produced another evil,--the evil, viz., of unnatural union. If, again, thy husband be alive and dwelling in a distant place, thy union with me has produced the fourth evil of sinfulness, for thou art not one with whom I may be lawfully united. Dost thou perpetrate all these sinful acts, impelled by the motive of accomplishing a particular object? Dost thou do these from ignorance or from perverted intelligence? If, again, in consequence of thy evil nature thou hast thus become thoroughly independent or unrestrained in thy behaviour, I tell thee that if thou hast any knowledge of the scriptures, thou wilt understand that everything thou hast done has been productive of evil. A third fault attaches to thee in consequence of these acts of thine, a fault that is destructive of peace of mind. By endeavouring to display thy superiority, the indication of a wicked woman is seen in thee. Desirous of asserting thy victory as thou art, it is not myself alone whom thou wishest to defeat, for it is plain that thou wishest to obtain a victory over even the whole of my court (consisting of these learned and very superior Brahmanas), by casting thy eyes in this way towards all these meritorious Brahmanas, it is evident that thou desirest to humiliate them all and glorify thyself (at their expense). Stupefied by thy pride of Yoga-puissance that has been born of thy jealousy (at sight of my power,) thou hast caused a union of thy understanding with mine and thereby hast really mingled together nectar with poison. That union, again, of man and woman, when each covets the other, is sweet as nectar. That association, however, of man and woman when the latter, herself coveting, fails to obtain an individual of the opposite sex that does not covet her, is, instead of being a merit, only a fault that is as noxious as poison. Do not continue to touch me. Know that I am righteous. Do thou act according to thy own scriptures. The enquiry thou hadst wished to make, viz., whether I am or I am not emancipated, has been finished. It behoves thee not to conceal from me all thy secret motives. It behoves thee not, that thus disguisest thyself, to conceal from me what thy object is, that is whether this call of thine has been prompted by the desire of accomplishing some object of thy own or whether thou hast come for accomplishing the object of some other king (that is hostile to me). One should never appear deceitfully before a king; nor before a Brahmana; nor before one's wife when that wife is possessed of every wifely virtue. Those who appear in deceitful guise before these three very soon meet with destruction. The power of kings consists in their sovereignty. The power of Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas is in the Vedas. Women wield a high power in consequence of their beauty and youth and blessedness. These then are powerful in the possession of these powers. He, therefore, that is desirous of accomplishing his own object should always approach these three with sincerity and candour, insincerity and deceit fail to produce success (in these three quarters). It behoveth thee, therefore, to apprise me of the order to which thou belongest by birth, of thy learning and conduct and disposition and nature, as also of the object thou hast in view in coming to this place.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Though rebuked by the king in these unpleasant, improper, and ill-applied words, the lady Sulabha was not at all abashed. After the king had said these words, the beautiful Sulabha then addressed herself for saying the following words in reply that were more handsome than her person. "'"Sulabha said, 'O king, speech ought always to be free from the nine verbal faults and the nine faults of judgment. It should also, while setting forth the meaning with perspicuity, be possessed of the eighteen well-known merits.[1688] Ambiguity, ascertainment of the faults and merits of premises and conclusions, weighing the relative strength or weakness of those faults and merits, establishment of the conclusion, and the element of persuasiveness or otherwise that attaches to the conclusion thus arrived at,--these five characteristics appertaining to the sense--constitute the authoritativeness of what is said. Listen now to the characteristics of these requirements beginning with ambiguity, one after another, as I expound them according to the combinations. When knowledge rests on distinction in consequence of the object to be known being different from one another, and when (as regards the comprehension of the subject) the understanding rests upon many points one after another, the combination of words (in whose case this occurs) is said to be vitiated by ambiguity.[1689] By ascertainment (of faults and merits), called Sankhya, is meant the establishment, by elimination, of faults or merits (in premises and conclusions), adopting tentative meanings.[1690] Krama or weighing the relative strength or weakness of the faults or merits (ascertained by the above process), consists in settling the propriety of the priority or subsequence of the words employed in a sentence. This is the meaning attached to the word Krama by persons conversant with the interpretation of sentences or texts. By Conclusion is meant the final determination, after this examination of what has been said on the subjects of religion, pleasure, wealth, and Emancipation, in respect of what particularly is what has been said in the text.[1691] The sorrow born of wish or aversion increases to a great measure. The conduct, O king, that one pursues in such a matter (for dispelling the sorrow experienced) is called Prayojanam.[1692] Take it for certain, O king, at my word, that these characteristics of Ambiguity and the other (numbering five in all), when occurring together, constitute a complete and intelligible sentence.[1693] The words I shall utter will be fraught with sense, free from ambiguity (in consequence of each of them not being symbols of many things), logical, free from pleonasm or tautology, smooth, certain, free from bombast, agreeable or sweet, truthful, not inconsistent with the aggregate of three, (viz., Righteousness, Wealth and Pleasure), refined (i.e., free from Prakriti), not elliptical or imperfect, destitute of harshness or difficulty of comprehension, characterised by due order, not far-fetched in respect of sense, corrected with one another as cause and effect and each having a specific object.[1694] I shall not tell thee anything, prompted by desire or wrath or fear or cupidity or abjectness or deceit or shame or compassion or pride. (I answer thee because it is proper for me to answer what thou hast said). When the speaker, the hearer, and the words said, thoroughly agree with one another in course of a speech, then does the sense or meaning come out very clearly. When, in the matter of what is to be said, the speaker shows disregard for the understanding of the hearer by uttering words whose meaning is understood by himself, then, however good those words may be, they become incapable of being seized by the hearer.[1695] That speaker, again, who, abandoning all regard for his own meaning uses words that are of excellent sound and sense, awakens only erroneous impressions in the mind of the hearer. Such words in such connection become certainly faulty. That speaker, however, who employs words that are, while expressing his own meaning, intelligible to the hearer, as well, truly deserves to be called a speaker. No other man deserves the name. It behoveth thee, therefore, O king, to hear with concentrated attention these words of mine, fraught with meaning and endued with wealth of vocables. Thou hast asked me who I am, whose I am, whence I am coming, etc. Listen to me, O king, with undivided mind, as I answer these questions of thine. As lac and wood, as grains of dust and drops of water, exist commingled when brought together, even so are the existences of all creatures.[1696] Sound, touch, taste, form, and scent, these and the senses, though diverse in respect of their essences, exist yet in a state of commingling like lac and wood. It is again well known that nobody asks any of these, saying, who art thou? Each of them also has no knowledge either of itself or of the others. The eye cannot see itself. The ear cannot hear itself. The eye, again, cannot discharge the functions of any of the other senses, nor can any of the senses discharge the functions of any sense save its own. If all of them even combine together, even they fail to know their own selves as dust and water mingled together cannot know each other though existing in a state of union. In order to discharge their respective functions, they await the contact of objects that are external to them. The eye, form, and light, constitute the three requisites of the operation called seeing. The same, as in this case, happens in respect of the operations of the other senses and the ideas which is their result. Then, again, between the functions of the senses (called vision, hearing, etc.,) and the ideas which are their result (viz., form, sound, etc.), the mind is an entity other than the senses and is regarded to have an action of its own. With its help one distinguishes what is existent from what is non-existent for arriving at certainty (in the matter of all ideas derived from the senses). With the five senses of knowledge and five senses of action, the mind makes a total of eleven. The twelfth is the Understanding. When doubt arises in respect of what is to be known, the Understanding comes forward and settles all doubts (for aiding correct apprehension). After the twelfth, Sattwa is another principle numbering the thirteenth. With its help creatures are distinguished as possessing more of it or less of it in their constitutions.[1697] After this, Consciousness (of self) is another principle (numbering the fourteenth). It helps one to an apprehension of self as distinguished from what is not self. Desire is the fifteenth principle, O king. Unto it inhere the whole universe.[1698] The sixteenth principle is Avidya. Unto it inhere the seventeenth and the eighteenth principles called Prakriti and Vyakti (i.e., Maya and Prakasa). Happiness and sorrow, decrepitude and death, acquisition and loss, the agreeable and the disagreeable,--these constitute the nineteenth principle and are called couples of opposites. Beyond the nineteenth principle is another, viz., Time called the twentieth. Know that the births and death of all creatures are due to the action of this twentieth principle. These twenty exist together. Besides these, the five Great primal elements, and existence and non-existence, bring up the tale to seven and twenty. Beyond these, are three others, named Vidhi, Sukra, and Vala, that make the tale reach thirty.[1699] That in which these ten and twenty principles occur is said to be body. Some persons regard unmanifest Prakriti to be the source or cause of these thirty principles. (This is the view of the atheistic Sankhya school). The Kanadas of gross vision regard the Manifest (or atoms) to be their cause. Whether the Unmanifest or the Manifest be their cause, or whether the two (viz., the Supreme or Purusha and the Manifest or atoms) be regarded as their cause, or fourthly, whether the four together (viz., the Supreme or Purusha and his Maya and Jiva and Avidya or Ignorance) be the cause, they that are conversant with Adhyatma behold Prakriti as the cause of all creatures. That Prakriti which is Unmanifest, becomes manifest in the form of these principles. Myself, thyself, O monarch, and all others that are endued with body are the result of that Prakriti (so far as our bodies are concerned). Insemination and other (embryonic) conditions are due to the mixture of the vital seed and blood. In consequence of insemination the result which first appears is called by the name of "Kalala." From "Kalala" arises what is called "Vudvuda" (bubble). From the stage called "Vudvuda" springs what is called "Pesi." From the condition called "Pesi" that stage arises in which the various limbs become manifested. From this last condition appear nails and hair. Upon the expiration of the ninth month, O king of Mithila, the creature takes its birth so that, its sex being known, it comes to be called a boy or girl. When the creature issues out of the womb, the form it presents is such that its nails and fingers seem to be of the hue of burnished copper. The next stage is said to be infancy, when the form that was seen at the time of birth becomes changed. From infancy youth is reached, and from youth, old age. As the creature advances from one stage into another, the form presented in the previous stage becomes changed. The constituent elements of the body, which serve diverse functions in the general economy, undergo change every moment in every creature. Those changes, however, are so minute that they cannot be noticed.[1700] The birth of particles, and their death, in each successive condition, can not be marked, O king, even as one cannot mark the changes in the flame of a burning lamp.[1701] When such is the state of the bodies of all creatures,--that is when that which is called the body is changing incessantly even like the rapid locomotion of a steed of good mettle,--who then has come whence or not whence, or whose is it or whose is it not, or whence does it not arise? What connection does there exist between creatures and their own bodies?[1702] As from the contact of flint with iron, or from two sticks of wood when rubbed against each other, fire is generated, even so are creatures generated from the combination of the (thirty) principles already named. Indeed, as thou thyself seest thy own body in thy body and as thou thyself seest thy soul in thy own soul, why is it that thou dost not see thy own body and thy own soul in the bodies and souls of others? If it is true that thou seest an identity with thyself and others, why then didst thou ask me who I am and whose? If it is true that thou hast, O king been freed from the knowledge of duality that (erroneously) says--this is mine and this other is not mine,--then what use is there with such questions as Who art thou, whose art thou and whence dost thou come? What indications of Emancipation can be said to occur in that king who acts as others act towards enemies and allies and neutrals and in victory and truce and war? What indications of Emancipation occur in him who does not know the true nature of the aggregate of three as manifested in seven ways in all acts and who, on that account, is attached to that aggregate of three?[1703] What indications of Emancipation exist in him who fails to cast an equal eye on the agreeable, on the weak, and the strong? Unworthy as thou art of it, thy pretence of Emancipation should be put down by thy counsellers! This thy endeavour to attain to Emancipation (when thou hast so many faults) is like the use of medicine by a patient who indulges in all kinds of forbidden food and practices. O chastiser of foes, reflecting upon spouses and other sources of attachment, one should behold these in one's own soul. What else can be looked upon as the indication of Emancipation? Listen now to me as I speak in detail of these and certain other minute sources of attachment appertaining to the four well known acts (of lying down for slumber, enjoyment, eating, and dressing) to which thou art still bound though thou professest thyself to have adopted the religion of Emancipation. That man who has to rule the whole world must, indeed, be a single king without a second. He is obliged to live in only a single palace. In that palace he has again only one sleeping chamber. In that chamber he has, again, only one bed on which at night he is to lie down. Half that bed again he is obliged to give to his Queen-consort. This may serve as an example of how little the king's share is of all he is said to own. This is the case with his objects of enjoyment, with the food he eats, and with the robes he wears. He is thus attached to a very limited share of all things. He is, again, attached to the duties of rewarding and punishing. The king is always dependent on others. He enjoys a very small share of all he is supposed to own, and to that small share he is forced to be attached (as well as others are attached to their respective possessions). In the matter also of peace and war, the king cannot be said to be independent. In the matter of women, of sports and other kinds of enjoyment, the king's inclinations are exceedingly circumscribed. In the matter of taking counsel and in the assembly of his councillors what independence can the king be said to have? When, indeed, he sets his orders on other men, he is said to be thoroughly independent. But then the moment after, in the several matters of his orders, his independence is barred by the very men whom he has ordered.[1704] If the king desires to sleep, he cannot gratify his desire, resisted by those who have business to transact with him. He must sleep when permitted, and while sleeping he is obliged to wake up for attending to those that have urgent business with him--bathe, touch, drink, eat, pour libations on the fire, perform sacrifices, speak, hear,--these are the words which kings have to hear from others and hearing them have to slave to those that utter them. Men come in batches to the king and solicit him for gifts. Being, however, the protector of the general treasury, he cannot make gifts unto even the most deserving. If he makes gifts, the treasury becomes exhausted. If he does not, disappointed solicitors look upon him with hostile eyes. He becomes vexed and as the result of this, misanthropical feelings soon invade his mind. If many wise and heroic and wealthy men reside together, the king's mind begins to be filled with distrust in consequence. Even when there is no cause of fear, the king entertains fear of those that always wait upon and worship him. Those I have mentioned O king, also find fault with him. Behold, in what way the king's fears may arise from even them! Then again all men are kings in their own houses. All men, again, in their own houses are house-holders. Like kings, O Janaka, all men in their own houses chastise and reward. Like kings others also have sons and spouses and their own selves and treasuries and friends and stores. In these respects the king is not different from other men.--The country is ruined,--the city is consumed by fire,--the foremost of elephants is dead,--at all this the king yields to grief like others, little regarding that these impressions are all due to ignorance and error. The king is seldom freed from mental griefs caused by desire and aversion and fear. He is generally afflicted also by headaches and diverse diseases of the kind. The king is afflicted (like others) by all couples of opposites (as pleasure and pain, etc). He is alarmed at everything. Indeed, full of foes and impediments as kingdom is, the king, while he enjoys it, passes nights of sleeplessness. Sovereignty, therefore, is blessed with an exceedingly small share of happiness. The misery with which it is endued is very great. It is as unsubstantial as burning flames fed by straw or the bubbles of froth seen on the surface of water. Who is there that would like to obtain sovereignty, or having acquired sovereignty can hope to win tranquillity? Thou regardest this kingdom and this palace to be thine. Thou thinkest also this army, this treasury, and these counsellers to belong to thee. Whose, however, in reality are they, and whose are they not? Allies, ministers, capital, provinces, punishment, treasury, and the king, these seven which constitute the limbs of a kingdom exist, depending upon one another, like three sticks standing with one another's support. The merits of each are set off by the merits of the others. Which of them can be said to be superior to the rest? At those times those particular ones are regarded as distinguished above the rest when some important end is served through their agency. Superiority, for the time being, is said to attach to that one whose efficacy is thus seen. The seven limbs already mentioned, O best of kings, and the three others, forming an aggregate of ten, supporting one another, are said to enjoy the kingdom like the king himself.[1705] That king who is endued with great energy and who is firmly attached to Kshatriya practices, should be satisfied with only a tenth part of the produce of the subject's field. Other kings are seen to be satisfied with less than a tenth part of such produce. There is no one who owns the kingly office without some one else owning it in the world, and there is no kingdom without a king.[1706] If there be no kingdom, there can be no righteousness, and if there be no righteousness, whence can Emancipation arise? Whatever merit is most sacred and the highest, belongs to kings and kingdoms.[1707] By ruling a kingdom well, a king earns the merit that attaches to a Horse-sacrifice with the whole Earth given away as Dakshina. But how many kings are there that rule their kingdoms well? O ruler of Mithila, I can mention hundreds and thousands of faults like these that attach to kings and kingdoms. Then, again, when I have no real connection with even my body, how then can I be said to have any contact with the bodies of others? Thou canst not charge me with having endeavoured to bring about an intermixture of castes. Hast thou heard the religion of Emancipation in its entirety from the lips of Panchasikha together with its means, its methods, its practices, and its conclusion?[1708] If thou hast prevailed over all thy bonds and freed thyself from all attachments, may I ask thee, O king, who thou preservest thy connections still with this umbrella and these other appendages of royalty? I think that thou hast not listened to the scriptures, or, thou hast listened to them without any advantage, or, perhaps, thou hast listened to some other treatises looking like the scriptures. It seems that thou art possessed only of worldly knowledge, and that like an ordinary man of the world thou art bound by the bonds of touch and spouses and mansions and the like. If it be true that thou hast been emancipated from all bonds, what harm have I done thee by entering thy person with only my Intellect? With Yatis, among all orders of men, the custom is to dwell in uninhabited or deserted abodes. What harm then have I done to whom by entering thy understanding which is truly of real knowledge? I have not touched thee, O king, with my hands, of arms, or feet, or thighs, O sinless one, or with any other part of the body. Thou art born in a high race. Thou hast modesty. Thou hast foresight. Whether the act has been good or bad, my entrance into thy body has been a private one, concerning us two only. Was it not improper for thee to publish that private act before all thy court? These Brahmanas are all worthy of respect. They are foremost of preceptors. Thou also art entitled to their respect, being their king. Doing them reverence, thou art entitled to receive reverence from them. Reflecting on all this, it was not proper for thee to proclaim before these foremost of men the fact of this congress between two persons of opposite sexes, if, indeed, thou art really acquainted with the rules of propriety in respect of speech. O king of Mithila, I am staying in thee without touching thee at all even like a drop of water on a lotus leaf that stays on it without drenching it in the least. If, notwithstanding instructions of Panchasikha of the mendicant order, thy knowledge has become abstracted from the sensual objects to which it relates? Thou hast, it is plain, fallen off from the domestic mode of life but thou hast not yet attained to Emancipation that is so difficult to arrive at. Thou stayest between the two, pretending that thou hast reached the goal of Emancipation. The contact of one that is emancipated with another that has been so, or Purusha with Prakriti, cannot lead to an intermingling of the kind thou dreadest. Only those that regard the soul to be identical with the body, and that think the several orders and modes of life to be really different from one another, are open to the error of supposing an intermingling to be possible. My body is different from thine. But my soul is not different from thy soul. When I am able to realise this, I have not the slightest doubt that my understanding is really not staying in thine though I have entered into thee by Yoga.[1709] A pot is borne in the hand. In the pot is milk. On the milk is a fly. Though the hand and pot, the pot and milk, and the milk and the fly, exist together, yet are they all distinct from each other. The pot does not partake the nature of the milk. Nor does the milk partake the nature of the fly. The condition of each is dependent on itself, and can never be altered by the condition of that other with which it may temporarily exist. After this manner, colour and practices, though they may exist together with and in a person that is emancipate, do not really attach to him. How then can an intermingling of orders be possible in consequence of this union of myself with thee? Then, again, I am not superior to thee in colour. Nor am I a Vaisya, nor a Sudra. I am, O king, of the same order with thee, born of a pure race. There was a royal sage of the name of Pradhana. It is evident that thou hast heard of him. I am born in his race, and my name is Sulabha. In the sacrifices performed by my ancestors, the foremost of the gods, viz., Indra, used to come, accompanied by Drona and Satasringa, and Chakradwara (and other presiding geniuses of the great mountains). Born in such a race, it was found that no husband could be obtained for me that would be fit for me. Instructed then in the religion of Emancipation, I wander over the Earth alone, observant of the practices of asceticism. I practise no hypocrisy in the matter of the life of Renunciation. I am not a thief that appropriates what belongs to others. I am not a confuser of the practices belonging to the different orders. I am firm in the practices that belong to that mode of life to which I properly belong. I am firm and steady in my vows. I never utter any word without reflecting on its propriety. I did not come to thee, without having deliberated properly, O monarch! Having heard that thy understanding has been purified by the religion of Emancipation, I came here from desire of some benefit. Indeed, it was for enquiring of thee about Emancipation that I had come. I do not say it for glorifying myself and humiliating my opponents. But I say it, impelled by sincerity only. What I say is, he that is emancipated never indulges in that intellectual gladiatorship which is implied by a dialectical disputation for the sake of victory. He, on the other hand, is really emancipate who devotes himself to Brahma, that sole seat of tranquillity.[1710] As a person of the mendicant order resides for only one night in an empty house (and leaves it the next morning), even after the same manner I shall reside for this one night in thy person (which, as I have already said, is like an empty chamber, being destitute of knowledge). Thou hast honoured me with both speech and other offers that are due from a host to a guest. Having slept this one night in thy person, O ruler of Mithila, which is as it were my own chamber now, tomorrow I shall depart.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words fraught with excellent sense and with reason, king Janaka failed to return any answer thereto."'"[1711] SECTION CCCXXII "'Yudhishthira said, "How was Suka, the son of Vyasa, in days of old, won over to Renunciation? I desire to hear thee recite the story. My curiosity in this respect is irrepressible. It behoveth thee, O thou of Kuru's race, to discourse to me on the conclusions in respect of the Unmanifest (Cause), the Manifest (Effects), and of the Truth (or Brahma) that is in, but unattached to them, as also of the acts of the self-born Narayana, as they are known to thy understanding." "'Bhishma said, "Beholding his son Suka living fearlessly as ordinary men do in practices that are considered harmless by them, Vyasa taught him the entire Vedas and then discoursed to him one day in these words: Vyasa said, 'O son, becoming the master of the senses, do thou subdue extreme cold and extreme heat, hunger and thirst, and the wind also, and having subdued them (as Yogins do), do thou practise righteousness. Do thou duly observe truth and sincerity, and freedom from wrath and malice, and self-restraint and penances, and the duties of benevolence and compassion. Rest thou on truth, firmly devoted to righteousness, abandoning all sort of insincerity and deceit. Do thou support thy life on what remains of food after feeding gods and guests. Thy body is as transitory as the froth on the surface of water. The Jiva-soul is sitting unattached in it as a bird on a tree. The companionship of all agreeable object is exceedingly short-lived. Why then, O son, dost thou sleep in such forgetfulness? Thy foes are heedful and awake and ever ready (to spring on thee) and always watchful of their opportunity. Why art thou so foolish as not to know this?[1712] As the days are going one after another, the period of thy life is being lessened. Indeed when thy life is being incessantly shortened, why dost thou not run to preceptors (for learning the means of rescue)? Only they that are destitute of faith (in the existence of next life) set their hearts on things of this world that have the only effect of increasing flesh and blood. They are totally unmindful of all that is concerned with the next world. Those men that are stupefied by erroneous understandings display a hatred for righteousness. The man who walks after those misguided persons that have betaken themselves to devious and wrong paths is afflicted equally with them. They however, that are contented, devoted to the scriptures, endued with high souls, and possessed of great might, betake themselves to the path of righteousness. Do thou wait upon them with reverence and seek instruction from them. Do thou act according to the instructions received from those wise men whose eyes are set upon righteousness. With understanding cleansed by such lessons and rendered superior, do thou then restrain thy heart which is ever ready to deviate from the right course. They whose understandings are always concerned with the present, who fearlessly regard the tomorrow as something quite remote,--they who do not observe any restrictions in the matter of food,--are really senseless persons that fail to understand that this world is only a field of probation.[1713] Repairing to the flight of steps constituted by Righteousness, do thou ascend those steps one after another. At present thou art like a worm that is employed in weaving its cocoon round itself and thereby depriving itself of all means of escape. Do thou keep to thy left, without any scruple, the atheist who transgresses all restraints, who is situated like a house by the side of a fierce and encroaching current, (for the destruction he courts), and who (to others) seems to stand like a bamboo with its tall head erected in pride.[1714] Do thou with the raft of Yoga, cross the ocean of the world whose waters are constituted by thy five senses, having Desire and Wrath and Death for its fierce monsters, and owning birth for its vortex. Do thou cross, with the raft of Righteousness, the world that is affected by Death and afflicted by Decrepitude, and upon which the thunder-bolts constituted by days and nights are falling incessantly. When death is seeking thee at all moments, viz., when thou art sitting or lying down, it is certain that Death may get thee for his victim at any time. Whence art thou to obtain thy rescue! Like the she-wolf snatching away a lamb, Death snatches away one that is still engaged in earning wealth and still unsatisfied in the indulgence of his pleasures. When thou art destined to enter into the dark, do thou hold up the blazing lamp made of righteous understanding and whose flame has been well-husbanded out. Falling into various forms one after another in the world of men, a creature obtains the status of Brahmanhood with great difficulty. Thou hast obtained that status. Do thou then, O son endeavour to maintain it (properly).[1715] A Brahman hath not been born for the gratification of desire. On the other hand, his body is intended to be subjected to mortification and penances in this world so that incomparable happiness may be his in the next world. The status of Brahmanhood is acquired with the aid of long-continued and austere penances. Having acquired that status, one should never waste one's time in the indulgence of one's senses. Always engaged in penances and self-restraint and desirous of what is for thy good, do thou live and act, devoted to peace and tranquillity. The period of life, of every man, is like a steed. The nature of that steed is unmanifest. The (sixteen) elements (mentioned before) constitute its body. Its nature is exceedingly subtile. Kshanas, and Trutis, and Nimeshas are the hair on its body. The twilights constitute its shoulder joints. The lighted and the dark fortnights are its two eyes of equal power. Months are its other limbs. That steed is running incessantly. If thy eyes be not blind, beholding then that steed incessantly moving forward in its invisible course, do thou set thy heart on righteousness, after hearing what thy preceptors have to say on the question of the next world. They that fall away from righteousness and that conduct themselves recklessly, that always display malice towards others and betake themselves to evil ways are obliged to assume (physical) bodies in the regions of Yama and suffer diverse afflictions, in consequence of their unrighteous acts of diverse kind.[1716] That king who is devoted to righteousness and who protects and chastises the good and the wicked with discrimination, attains to those regions that belong to man of righteous deeds. By doing diverse kinds of good acts, he attains to such felicity as is faultless and as is incapable of being attained to by undergoing even thousands of births.[1717] Furious dogs of frightful mien, crows of iron beaks, flocks of ravens and vultures and other birds, and blood-sucking worms, assail the man who transgresses the commands of his parents and preceptors when he goes to hell after death.[1718] That sinful wretch who, in consequence of his recklessness, transgresses the ten boundaries that have been fixed by the Self-born himself, is obliged to pass his time in great affliction in the wild wastes that occur in the dominions of the king of Pitris.[1719] That man who is tainted with cupidity, who is in love with untruth, who always takes a delight in deception and cheating, and who does injuries to others by practising hypocrisy and deception, has to go to deep hell and suffer great woe and affliction for his acts of wickedness. Such a man is forced to bathe in the broad river called Vaitarani whose waters are scalding, to enter into a forest of trees whose leaves are as sharp as swords, and then to lie down on a bed of battle-axes. He has thus to pass his days in frightful hell in great affliction. Thou beholdest only the regions of Brahman and other deities, but thou art blind to that which is the highest (viz., Emancipation). Alas, thou art ever blind also to that which brings Death on its train (viz., decrepitude and old age).[1720] Go (along the path of Emancipation)! Why tarriest thou? A frightful terror, destructive of thy happiness, is before thee! Do thou take prompt steps for achieving thy Emancipation! Soon after death thou art sure to be taken before Yama at his command. For obtaining felicity in the next world, strive to attain to righteousness through the practice of difficult and austere vows. The puissant Yama, regardless of the sufferings of others, very soon takes the lives of all persons, that is of thyself and thy friends. There is none capable of resisting him. Very soon the wind of Yama will blow before thee (and drive thee to his presence). Very soon wilt thou be taken to that dread presence all alone. Do thou achieve what will be for thy good there. Where now is that Death-wind which will blow before thee very soon? (Art thou mindful of it?) Very soon will the points of the compass, when that moment arrives, begin to whirl before thy eyes. (Art thou mindful of that?) O son, soon (when that moment comes) will thy Vedas disappear from thy sight as thou goest helplessly into that dread presence. Do thou, therefore, set thy heart on Yoga abstraction which is possessed of great excellence.[1721] Do thou seek to attain that one only treasure so that thou mayst not have to grieve at the recollection (after Death) of thy former deeds good and bad all of which are characterised by error.[1722] Decrepitude very soon weakens thy body and robs thee of thy strength and limbs and beauty. Do thou, therefore, seek that one only treasure. Very soon the Destroyer, with Disease for his charioteer, will with a strong hand, for taking thy life, pierce and break thy body. Do thou, therefore practise austere penance. Very soon will those terrible wolves that reside within thy body, assail thee from every side. Do thou endeavour, therefore, to achieve acts of righteousness.[1723] Very soon wilt thou, all alone, behold a thick darkness, and very soon wilt thou behold golden trees on the top of the hill. Do thou, therefore, hasten to achieve acts of righteousness.[1724] Very soon will those evil companions and foes of thine, (viz., the senses), dressed in the guise of friends, swerve thee from correct vision. Do thou, then, O son, strive to achieve that which is of the highest good. Do thou earn that wealth which has no fear from either kings or thieves, and which one has not to abandon even at Death. Earned by one's own acts, that wealth has never to be divided among co-owners. Each enjoys that wealth (in the other world) which each has earned for himself. O son, give that to others by which they may be able to live in the next world. Do thou also set thyself to the acquisition of that wealth which is indestructible and durable. Do not think that thou shouldst first enjoy all kinds of pleasures and then turn thy heart on Emancipation, for before thou art satiated with enjoyment thou mayst be overtaken by Death. Do thou, in view of this, hasten to do acts of goodness.[1725] Neither mother, nor son, nor relatives, nor dear friends even when solicited with honours, accompany the man that dies. To the regions of Yama one has to go oneself, unaccompanied by any one. Only those deeds, good and bad, that one did before death accompany the man that goes to the other world. The gold and gems that one has earned by good and bad means do not become productive of any benefit to one when one's body meets with dissolution. Of men that have gone to the other world, there is no witness, better than the soul, of all act done or undone in life. That when the acting-Chaitanya (Jiva-soul) enters into the witness-Chaitanya the destruction of the body takes place, is seen by Yoga-intelligence when Yogins enter the firmament of their hearts.[1726] Even here, the god of Fire, the Sun and the Wind,--these three reside in the body. These, beholding as they do all the practices of one's life become one's witnesses. Days and Nights,--the former characterised by the virtue of displaying all things and the latter characterised by the virtue of concealing all things,--are running incessantly and touching all things (and thereby lessening their allotted periods of existence). Do thou, therefore, be observant of the duties of thy own order.[1727] The road in the other world (that leads to the regions of Yama), is infested by many foes (in the form of iron-beaked birds and wolves) and by many repulsive and terrible insects and worms. Do thou take care of thy own acts, for only acts will accompany you along that road. These one has not to share one's acts with others, but every one enjoys or endures the fruits of those acts which every one has himself performed. As Apsaras and great Rishis attain to fruits of great felicity, after the same manner, men of righteous deeds, as the fruits of their respective righteous acts, obtain in the other world cars of transcendent brightness that move everywhere at the will of the riders. Men of stainless deeds and cleansed souls and pure birth obtain in the next world fruits that correspond with their own righteous acts in this life. By walking along the high road constituted by the duties of domesticity, men acquire happy ends by attaining to the region of Prajapati or Vrihaspati or of him of a hundred sacrifices. I can give thee thousands and thousands of instructions. Know, however, that the puissant cleanser (viz., Righteousness), keeps all foolish persons in the Dark.[1728] Thou hast passed four and twenty years. Thou art now full five and twenty years of age. Thy years are passing away. Do thou begin to lay thy store of righteousness. The Destroyer that dwells within error and heedlessness will very soon deprive thy senses of their respective powers. Do thou before that consummation is brought about, hasten to observe thy duties, relying on thy body alone.[1729] When it is thy duty to go along that road in which thyself only shalt be in front and thyself only in the rear, what need then hast thou with either thy body or thy spouse and children?[1730] When men have to go individually and without companions to the region of Yama, it is plain that in view of such a situation of terror, thou shouldst seek to acquire that one only treasure (viz., Righteousness or Yogasamadhi). The puissant Yama, regardless of the afflictions of others, snatches away the friends and relatives of one's race by the very roots. There is no one that can resist him. Do thou, therefore, seek to acquire a stock of righteousness. I impart to thee these lessons, O son, that are all agreeable with the scriptures I follow. Do thou observe them by acting according to their import. He who supports his body by following the duties laid down for his own order, and who makes gifts for earning whatever fruits may attach to such acts, becomes freed from the consequences that are born of ignorance and error.[1731] The knowledge which a man of righteous deeds acquires from Vedic declarations leads to omniscience. That omniscience is identical with the science of the highest object of human acquisition (viz., Emancipation). Instruction, imparted to the grateful, became beneficial (in consequence of their leading to the attainment of that highest object of human acquisition).[1732] The pleasure that one takes in living amidst the habitations of men is truly a fast-binding cord. Breaking that cord, men of righteous deeds repair to regions of great felicity. Wicked men, however, fail to break that bond. What use hast thou of wealth, O son, or with relatives, or with children, since thou hast to die: Do thou employ thyself in seeking for thy soul which is hidden in a cave. Where have all thy grandsires gone? Do that today which thou wouldst keep for tomorrow. Do that in the forenoon which thou wouldst keep for the afternoon. Death does not wait for any one, to see whether one has or has not accomplished one's task. Following the body after one's death (to the crematorium), one's relatives and kinsmen and friends come back, throwing it on the funeral pyre. Without a scruple do thou avoid those men that are sceptics, that are destitute of compassion, and that are devoted to wicked ways, and do thou endeavour to seek, without listlessness or apathy, that which is for thy highest good. When, therefore, the world is thus afflicted by Death, do thou, with thy whole heart, achieve righteousness, aided all the while by unswerving patience. That man who is well conversant with the means of attaining to Emancipation and who duly discharges the duties of his order, certainly attains to great felicity in the other world. For thee that dost not recognise death in the attainment of a different body and that dost not deviate from the path trod by the righteous, there is no destruction. He that increases the stock of righteousness is truly wise. He, on the other hand, that falls away from righteousness is said to be a fool. One that is engaged in the accomplishment of good deeds attains to heaven and other rewards as the fruits of those deeds; but he that is devoted to wicked deeds has to sink in hell. Having acquired the status of humanity, so difficult of acquisition, that is the stepping-stone to heaven, one should fix one's soul on Brahma so that one may not fall away once more. That man whose understanding, directed to the path of heaven, does not deviate therefrom, is regarded by the wise as truly a man of righteousness and when he dies his friends should indulge in grief. That man whose understanding is not restless and which is directed to Brahma and who has attained to heaven, becomes freed from a great terror (viz., hell). They that are born in retreats of ascetics and that die there, do not earn much merit by abstaining all their life from enjoyments and the indulgence of desire. He, however, who though possessed of objects of enjoyment casts them off and engages himself in the practice of penances, succeeds in acquiring everything. The fruits of the penances of such a man are, I think, much higher. Mothers and sires and sons and spouses, by hundreds and thousands, every one had and will have in this world. Who, however, were they and whose are we? I am quite alone. I have no one whom I may call mine. Nor do I belong to any one else. I do not see that person whose I am, nor do I see him whom I may call mine. They have nothing to do with thee. Thou hast nothing to do with them.[1733] All creatures take birth agreeably to their acts of past lives. Thou also shalt have to go hence (for taking birth in a new order) determined by thy own acts. In this world it is seen that the friends and followers of only those that are rich behave towards the rich with devotion. The friends and followers of those, however, that are poor fall away during even the life-time of the poor. Man commits numerous evil acts for the sake of his wife (and children). From those evil acts he derives much distress both here and hereafter. The wise man beholds the world of life devastated by the acts performed by every living being. Do thou, therefore, O son, act according to all the instructions I have given thee! The man possessed of true vision, beholding this world to be only a field of action, should, from desire of felicity in the next world, do acts that are good. Time, exerting his irresistible strength, cooks all creatures (in his own cauldron), with the aid of his ladle constituted by months and seasons, the sun for his fire, and days and nights for his fuel, days and nights, that is that are the witnesses of the fruits of every act done by every creature. For what purpose is that wealth which is not given away and which is not enjoyed? For what purpose is that strength which is not employed in resisting or subjugating one's foes? For what purpose is that knowledge of the scriptures which does not impel one to deeds of righteousness? And for what purpose is that soul which does not subjugate the senses and abstain from evil acts?'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having heard these beneficial words spoken by the Island-born (Vyasa), Suka, leaving his sire, proceeded to seek a preceptor that could teach him the religion of Emancipation."'"[1734] SECTION CCCXXIII "'Yudhishthira said, "If there is any efficacy in gifts, in sacrifices, in penances well-performed, and in dutiful services rendered to preceptors and other reverend seniors, do thou, O grandsire, speak of the same to me." "'Bhishma said, "An understanding associated with evil causes the mind to fall into sin. In this state one stains one's acts, and then falls into great distress. Those that are of sinful acts have to take birth as persons of very indigent circumstances. From famine to famine, from pain to pain, from fear to fear, is their change. They are more dead than those that are dead. Possessed of affluence, from joy to joy, from heaven to heaven, from happiness to happiness, proceed they that are possessed of faith, that are self-restrained, and that are devoted to righteous deeds. They that are unbelievers have to pass, with groping hands, through regions infested by beasts of prey and elephants and pathless tracts teeming with snakes and robbers and other causes of fear. What more need be said of these? They, on the other hand, that are endued with reverence for gods and guests, that are liberal, that have proper regard for persons that are good, and that make gifts in sacrifices, have for theirs the path (of felicity) that belongs to men of cleansed and subdued souls. Those that are not righteous should not be counted among men even as grains without kernel are not counted among grain and as cockroaches are not counted among birds. The acts that one does, follow one even when one runs fast. Whatever acts one does, lie down with the doer who lays himself down. Indeed, the sins one does, sit when the doer sits, and run when he runs. The sins act when the doer acts, and, in fact follow the doer like his shadow. Whatever the acts one does by whatever means and under whatever circumstances, are sure to be enjoyed and endured (in respect of their fruits) by the doer in his next life. From every side Time is always dragging all creatures, duly observing the rule in respect of the distance to which they are thrown and which is commensurate with their acts.[1735] As flowers and fruits, without being urged, never suffer their proper time to pass away without making their appearance, even so the acts one has done in past life make their appearance at the proper time. Honour and dishonour, gain and loss, destruction and growth, are seen to set in. No one can resist them (when they come). One of them is enduring, for disappear it must after appearance. The sorrows one suffers is the result of one's acts. The happiness one enjoys flows from one's acts. From the time when one lies within the mother's womb one begins to enjoy and endure one's acts of a past life. Whatever acts good and bad one does in childhood, youth, or old age, one enjoys and endures their consequences in one's next life in similar ages. As the calf recognises its dam even when the latter may stand among thousands of her species, after the same manner the acts done by one in one's past life come to one in one's next life (without any mistake) although one may live among thousands of one's species. As a piece of dirty cloth is whitened by being washed in water, after the same manner, the righteous, cleansed by continuous exposure unto the fire of fasts and penances, at last attain to unending happiness. O thou of high intelligence, the desires and purposes of those whose sins have been washed off by long-continued penances well-performed, become crowned with fruition. The track of the righteous cannot be discerned even as that of birds in the sky or that of fishes in the water. There is no need of speaking ill of others, nor of reciting the instances in which others have tripped. On the other hand, one should always do what is delightful, agreeable, and beneficial to one's own self."'"[1736] SECTION CCCXXIV "'Yudhishthira said, "Tell me, O grandsire, how the high-souled Suka of austere penances took birth as the son of Vyasa, and how did he succeed in attaining to the highest success? Upon what woman did Vyasa, endued with wealth of asceticism, beget that son of his? We do not know who was Suka's mother, nor do we know anything of the birth of that high-souled ascetic. How was it that, when he was a mere boy, his mind became directed to the knowledge of the subtile (Brahma)? Indeed, in this world no second person can be seen in whom such predilections could be marked at so early an age. I desire to hear all this in detail, O thou of great intelligence. I am never satiated with hearing thy excellent and nectar-like words. Tell me, O grandsire in their proper order, of the greatness, and the knowledge of Suka and of his union with the (Supreme) Soul!" "'Bhishma continued, "The Rishis did not make merit depend upon years or decrepitude or wealth or friends. They said that he amongst them was great that studied the Vedas. All this that thou enquirest about has penances for its root. That penance, again, O son of Pandu, rises from the subjugation of the senses. Without doubt, one incurs fault by giving one's senses the reins. It is only by restraining them that one succeeds in earning success. The merit that attaches to a thousand Horse-sacrifices or a hundred Vajapeyas cannot come up to even a sixteenth portion of the merit that arises from Yoga. I shall, on the present occasion, recite to thee the circumstances of Suka's birth, the fruits he won of his penances, and the foremost end he achieved (by his acts), topics that are incapable of being understood by persons of uncleansed soul. Once on a time on the summit of Meru adorned with karnikara flowers, Mahadeva sported, accompanied by the terrible spirits that were his associates. The daughter of the king of mountains, viz., the goddess Parvati, was also there. There at the close vicinity of that summit, the Island-born (Vyasa) underwent extraordinary austerities. O best of the Kurus, devoted to the practices of Yoga, the great ascetic withdrawing himself by Yoga into his own Soul, and engaged in Dharana, practised many austerities for the sake of (obtaining) a son. The prayer he addressed to the great God was,--'O puissant one, let me have a son that will have the puissance of Fire and Earth and Water and Wind and Space.' Engaged in the austerest of penances, the Island-born Rishi begged that of that God who is incapable of being approached by persons of uncleansed souls, (not by words but) by his Yoga-resolution. The puissant Vyasa remained there for a hundred years, subsisting on air alone, engaged in adoring Mahadeva of multifarious form, the lord of Uma. Thither all the regenerate Rishis and royal sages and the Regents of the world and the Sadhyas along with the Vasus, and the Adityas, the Rudras, and Surya and Chandramas, and the Maruts, and the Oceans, and the Rivers and the Aswins, the Deities, the Gandharvas, and Narada and Parvata and the Gandharva Viswavasu, and the Siddhas, and the Apsaras. There Mahadeva, called also by the name of Rudra, sat, decked with an excellent garland of Karnikara flowers, and blazed with effulgence like the Moon with his rays. In those delightful and celestial woods populous with deities and heavenly Rishis, the great Rishi remained, engaged in high Yoga-contemplation, from desire of obtaining a son. His strength suffered no diminution, nor did he feel any pain. At this the three worlds were much amazed. While the Rishi, possessed of immeasurable energy, sat in Yoga, his matted locks, in consequence of his energy, were seen to blaze like flames of fire. The illustrious Markandeya it was from whom I heard of this. He used always to recite to me the acts of the deities. It is for this that the matted locks of the high-souled and (Island-born) Krishna, thus emblazed by his energy on that occasion, seem to this day to be endued with the complexion of fire. Gratified with such penances and such devotion, O Bharata, of the Rishi, the great God resolved (to grant him his wish). The Three-eyed deity, smiling with pleasure, addressed him and said,--O Island-born one, thou shalt get a son like to what thou wishest! Possessed of greatness, he shall be as pure as Fire, as Wind, as Earth, as Water, and as Space! He shall be possessed of the consciousness of his being Brahma's self; his understanding and soul shall be devoted to Brahma, and he shall completely depend upon Brahma so as to be identifiable with it!"'" SECTION CCCXXV "'Bhishma said, "The son of Satyavati having obtained this high boon from the great God, was one day employed in rubbing his sticks for making a fire. While thus engaged, the illustrious Rishi, O king, beheld the Apsara Ghritachi, who, in consequence of her energy, was then possessed of great beauty. Beholding the Apsara in those woods, the illustrious Rishi Vyasa, O Yudhishthira, became suddenly smitten with desire. The Apsara (Ghritachi), seeing the Rishi's heart troubled by desire, transformed herself into a she-parrot and came to that spot. Although he beheld the Apsara disguised in another form, the desire that had arisen in the Rishi's heart (without disappearing) spread itself over every part of his body. Summoning all his patience, the ascetic endeavoured to suppress that desire; with all his effort, however, Vyasa did not succeed in controlling his agitated mind. In consequence of the inevitability of what was to happen, the Rishi's heart was attracted by Ghritachi's fair form. He set himself more earnestly to the task of making a fire for suppressing his emotion, but in spite of all his efforts his vital seed came out. That best of regenerate ones, however, O king, continued to rub his stick without feeling any scruples for what had happened. From the seed that fell, was born a son unto him, called Suka. In consequence of his circumstance attending his birth, he came to be called by name of Suka. Indeed, it was thus that great ascetic that foremost of Rishis and highest of Yogins, took birth from the two sticks (his father had for making fire). As in a sacrifice a blazing fire shed its effulgence all around when libations of clarified butter are poured upon it, after the same manner did Suka take his birth, blazing with effulgence in consequence of his own energy. Assuming the excellent form and complexion that were his sire, Suka, O son of Kuru, of cleansed Soul, shone like a smokeless fire. The foremost of rivers, viz., Ganga, O king, coming to the breast of Meru, in her own embodied form, bathed Suka (after his birth) with her waters. There fell from the welkin, O son of Kuru, an ascetic's stick and a dark deer-skin for the use, O monarch, of the high-souled Suka. The Gandharvas sang repeatedly and the diverse tribes of Apsaras danced; and celestial kettledrums of loud sound began to beat. The Gandharva Viswavasu, and Tumvuru and Varada, and those other Gandharvas called by the names of Haha, and Huhu, eulogised the birth of Suka. There the regents of the world with Sakra at their head came, as also the deities and the celestial and the regenerate Rishis. The Wind-god poured showers of celestial flowers upon the spot. The entire universe, mobile, and immobile, became filled with joy. The high-souled Mahadeva of great effulgence, accompanied by the Goddess, and moved by affection, came there and soon after the birth of the Muni's son invested him with the sacred-thread. Sakra, the chief of the gods, gave him, from affection, a celestial Kamandalu of excellent form, and some celestial robes. Swans and Satapatras and cranes by thousands, and many parrots and Chasas, O Bharata, wheeled over his head. Endued with great splendour and intelligence, Suka, having obtained his birth from the two sticks, continued to live there, engaged the while in the attentive observance of many vows and fasts. As soon as Suka was born, the Vedas with all their mysteries and all their abstracts, came for dwelling in him, O king, even as they dwell in his sire. For all that, Suka selected Vrihaspati, who was conversant with all the Vedas together with their branches and commentaries, for his preceptor, remembering the universal practice.[1737] Having studied all the Vedas together with all their mysteries and abstracts, as also all the histories and the science of government, O puissant monarch, the great ascetic returned home, after giving his preceptor the tuition fee. Adopting the vow of a Brahmacharin, he then commenced to practise the austerest penances concentrating all his attention thereon. In even his childhood, he became an object of respect with the gods and Rishis for his knowledge and penances. The mind of the great ascetic, O king, took no pleasure in the three modes of life with the domestic among them, keeping in view, as he did, the religion of Emancipation."'" SECTION CCCXXVI "'Bhishma said, "Thinking of Emancipation, Suka approached his sire and possessed as he was of humility and desirous of achieving his highest good, he saluted his great preceptor and said,--'Thou art well versed in the religion of Emancipation. Do thou O illustrious one, discourse to me upon it, so that supreme tranquillity of mind, O puissant one, may be mine!'--Hearing these words of his son, the great Rishi said unto him,--'Do thou study, O son, the religion of Emancipation and all the diverse duties of life!'--At the command of his sire, Suka, that foremost of all righteous men, mastered all the treatises on Yoga, O Bharata, as also the science promulgated by Kapila. When Vyasa beheld his son to be possessed of the resplendence of the Vedas, endued with the energy of Brahma, and fully conversant with the religion of Emancipation, he addressed him, saying,--'Go thou to Janaka the ruler of Mithila. The king of Mithila will tell thee everything for thy Emancipation.'--Bearing the command of his sire, O king, Suka proceeded to Mithila for enquiring of its king about the truth of duties and the Refuge of Emancipation. Before he set out, his sire further told him,--'Do thou go thither by that path which ordinary human beings take. Do not have recourse to thy Yoga-puissance for proceeding through the skies.'--At this Suka was not at all surprised (for he was humble by nature). He was further told that he should proceed thither with simplicity and not from desire of pleasure.--'Along your way do not seek for friends and spouses, since friends and spouses are causes of attachment to the world. Although the ruler of Mithila is one in whose sacrifices we officiate, still thou shouldst not indulge in any feeling of superiority while living with him. Thou shouldst live under his direction and in obedience to him. Even he will dispel all thy doubts.[1738] That king is well versed in all duties and well acquainted with the scriptures on Emancipation. He is one for whom I officiate in sacrifices. Thou shouldst, without any scruple, do what he bids.'--Thus instructed, the righteous-souled Suka proceeded to Mithila on foot although he was able to traverse through the skies over the whole Earth with her seas. Crossing many hills and mountains, many rivers, many waters and lakes, and many woods and forests abounding with beasts of prey and other animals, crossing the two Varshas of Meru and Hari successively and next the Varsha of Himavat, he came at last to the Varsha known by the name of Bharata. Having seen many countries inhabited by Chins and Huns, the great ascetic at last reached Aryavarta. In obedience to the commands of his sire and bearing them constantly in his mind, he gradually passed along his way on the Earth like a bird passing through the air. Passing through many delightful towns and populous cities, he saw diverse kinds of wealth without waiting to observe them. On his way he passed through many delightful gardens and places and many sacred waters. Before much time had passed he reached the country of the Videhas that was protected by the virtuous and high-souled Janaka. There he beheld many populous villages, and many kinds of food and drink and viands and habitations of cowherds swelling with men and many herds of cattle. He beheld many fields abounding with paddy and barley and other grain, and many lakes and waters inhabited by swans and cranes and adorned with beautiful lotuses. Passing through the Videha country teeming with well-to-do people, he arrived at the delightful gardens of Mithila rich with many species of trees. Abounding with elephants and horses and cars, and peopled by men and women, he passed through them without waiting to observe any of the things that were presented to his eye. Bearing that burthen in his mind and ceaselessly dwelling upon it (viz., the desire of mastering the religion of Emancipation), Suka of cheerful soul and taking delight in internal survey only, reached Mithila at last. Arrived at the gate, he sent word through the keepers. Endued with tranquillity of mind, devoted to contemplation and Yoga, he entered the city, having obtained permission. Proceeding along the principal street abounding with well-to-do men, he reached the king's palace and entered it without any scruples. The porters forbade him with rough words. Thereat, Suka, without any anger, stopped and waited. Neither the sun nor the long distance he had walked had fatigued him in the least. Neither hunger, nor thirst, nor the exertion he had made, had weakened him. The heat of the Sun had not scorched or pained or distressed him in any degree. Among those porters there was one who felt compassion for him, beholding him staying there like the midday Sun in his effulgence. Worshipping him in due form and saluting him properly, with joined hands he led him to the first chamber of the palace. Seated there, Suka, O son, began to think of Emancipation only. Possessed of equable splendour he looked with an equal eye upon a shaded spot and one exposed to the Sun's rays. Very soon after, the king's minister, coming to that place with joined hands, led him to the second chamber of the palace. That chamber led to a spacious garden which formed a portion of the inner apartments of the palace. It looked like a second Chaitraratha. Beautiful pieces of water occurred here and there at regular intervals. Delightful trees, all of which were in their flowering season, stood in that garden. Bevies of damsels, of transcendent beauty, were in attendance. The minister led Suka from the second chamber to that delightful spot. Ordering those damsels to give the ascetic a seat, the minister left him there. Those well-dressed damsels were of beautiful features, possessed of excellent hips, young in years, clad in red robes of fine texture, and decked with many ornaments of burnished gold. They were well-skilled in agreeable conversation and maddening revelry, and thorough mistresses of the arts of dance and singing. Always opening their lips with smiles, they were equal to the very Apsaras in beauty. Well-skilled in all the acts of dalliance, competent to read the thoughts of men upon whom they wait, possessed of every accomplishment, fifty damsels, of a very superior order and of easy virtue, surrounded the ascetic. Presenting him with water for washing his feet, and worshipping him respectfully with the offer of the usual articles, they gratified him with excellent viands agreeable to the season. After he had eaten, those damsels then, one after another, singly led him through the grounds, showing him every object of interest, O Bharata. Sporting and laughing and singing, those damsels, conversant with the thoughts of all men, entertained that auspicious ascetic of noble soul. The pure-souled ascetic born in the fire-sticks, observant without scruples of any kind of his duties, having all his senses under complete control, and a thorough master of his wrath, was neither pleased nor angered at all this. Then those foremost of beautiful women gave him an excellent seat. Washing his feet and other limbs, Suka said his evening prayers, sat on that excellent seat, and began to think of the object for which he had come there. In the first part of the night, he devoted himself to Yoga. The puissant ascetic, passed the middle portion of the night in sleep. Very soon waking up from his slumber, he went through the necessary rites of cleansing his body, and though surrounded by those beautiful women, he once again devoted himself to Yoga. It was in this way, O Bharata, that the son of the Island-born Krishna passed the latter part of that day and the whole of that night in the palace of king Janaka."'" SECTION CCCXXVII "'Bhishma said, "The next morning, king Janaka, O Bharata, accompanied by his minister and the whole household, came to Suka, placing his priest in the van. Bringing with him costly seats and diverse kinds of jewels and gems, and bearing the ingredients of the Arghya on his own head, the monarch approached the son of his reverend preceptor. The king, taking with his own hands, from the hands of his priest, that seat adorned with many gems, overlaid with an excellent sheet, beautiful in all its parts, and exceedingly costly, presented it with great reverence to his preceptor's son Suka. After the son of (the Island-born) Krishna had taken his seat on it, the king worshipped him according to prescribed rites. At first offering him water to wash his feet, he then presented him the Arghya and kine. The ascetic accepted that worship offered with due rites and mantras. That foremost of regenerate persons, having thus accepted the worship offered by the king, and taking the kine also that were presented to him, then saluted the monarch. Possessed of great energy, he next enquired after the king's welfare and prosperity. Indeed, O king, Suka embraced in his enquiry the welfare of the monarch's followers and officers also. Receiving Suka's permission, Janaka sat down with all his followers. Endued with a high soul and possessed of high birth, the monarch, with joined hands, sat down on the bare ground and enquired after the welfare and unabated prosperity of Vyasa's son. The monarch then asked his guest the object of his visit. "'"Suka said, 'Blessed be thou, my sire said unto me that his Yajamana, the ruler of the Videhas, known all over the world by the name of Janaka, is well-versed in the religion of Emancipation. He commanded me to come to him without delay, if I had any doubts requiring solution in the matter of the religion of either Pravritti or Nivritti. He gave me to understand that the king of Mithila would dispel all my doubts. I have, therefore, come hither, at the command of my sire, for the purpose of taking lessons from thee. It behoveth thee, O foremost of all righteous persons, to instruct me! What are the duties of a Brahmana, and what is the essence of those duties that have Emancipation for their object. How also is Emancipation to be obtained? Is it obtainable by the aid of knowledge or by that of penances?' "'"Janaka said, 'Hear what the duties are of a Brahmana from the time of his birth. After his investiture, O son, with the sacred-thread, he should devote his attention to the study of the Vedas. By practising penances and dutifully serving his preceptor and observing the duties of Brahmacharyya, O puissant one, he should pay off the debt he owes to the deities and the Pitris, and cast off all malice. Having studied the Vedas with close attention and subjugated his senses, and having given his preceptor the tuition fee, he should, with the permission of his preceptor, return home. Returning home, he should betake himself to the domestic mode of life and wedding a spouse confine himself to her, and live freeing himself from every kind of malice, and having established his domestic fire. Living in the domestic mode, he should procreate sons and grandsons. After that, he should retire to the forest, and continue to worship the same fires and entertain guests with cordial hospitality. Living righteously in the forest, he should at last establish his fire in his soul, and freed from all pairs of opposites, and casting off all attachments from the soul, he should pass his days in the mode called Sannyasa which is otherwise called the mode of Brahma.' "'"Suka said, 'If one succeeds in attaining to an understanding cleansed by study of the scriptures and to true conceptions of all things, and if the heart succeeds in freeing itself permanently from the effects of all pairs of opposites, is it still necessary for such a person to adopt, one after another, the three modes of life called Brahmacharyya, Garhastya, and Vanaprastha? This is what I ask thee. It behoveth thee to tell me. Indeed, O ruler of men, do tell me this according to the true import of the Vedas!' "'"Janaka said, 'Without the aid of an understanding cleansed by study of the scriptures and without that true conception of all things which is known by the name of Vijnana, the attainment of Emancipation is impossible. That cleansed understanding, again, it is said, is unattainable without one's connection with a preceptor. The preceptor is the helmsman, and knowledge is the boat (aided by whom and which one succeeds in crossing the ocean of the world). After having acquired that boat, one becomes crowned with success. Indeed, having crossed the ocean, one may abandon both. For preventing the destruction of all the worlds and for preventing the destruction of acts (upon which the world depend), the duties appertaining to the four modes of life were practised by the wise of old. By abandoning acts, good and bad, agreeably to this order of acts one succeeds, in course of many births, in attaining to Emancipation.[1739] That man who, through penances performed in course of many births, succeeds in obtaining a cleansed mind and understanding and soul, certainly becomes able to attain to Emancipation (in a new birth) in even the very first mode viz., Brahmacharyya.[1740] When, having attained to a cleansed understanding, Emancipation becomes his and in consequence thereof he becomes possessed of knowledge in respect of all visible things, what desirable object is there to attain by observing the three other modes of life?[1741] One should always cast off faults born of the attributes of Rajas and Tamas. Adhering to the path of Sattwa, one should know Self by Self.[1742] Beholding one's self in all creatures and all creatures in one's self, one should live (without being attached to anything) like aquatic animals living in water without being drenched by that element. He who succeeds in transcending all pairs of attributes and resisting their influence, succeeds in casting off all attachments, and attains to infinite felicity in the next world, going thither like a bird soaring into the sky from below. In this connection, there is a saying sung of old by king Yayati and borne in remembrance, O sire, by all persons conversant with the scriptures bearing upon Emancipation. The effulgent ray (i.e., the Supreme Soul) exists in one's Soul and not anywhere else. It exists equally in all creatures. One can see it oneself if one's heart be devoted to Yoga. When a person lives in such a way that another is not inspired with fear at his sight, and when a person is not himself inspired with fear at the sight of others, when a person ceases to cherish desire and hate, he is then said to attain to Brahma. When a person ceases to entertain a sinful attitude towards all creatures in thought, word, and deed, he is then said to attain to Brahma.[1743] By restraining the mind and the soul, by casting off malice that stupefies the mind, and by throwing off desire and stupefaction, one is said to attain to Brahma. When a person assumes an equality of attitude in respect of all objects of hearing and vision (and the operations of the other senses) as also in respect of all living creatures, and transcends all pairs of opposites, he is then said to attain to Brahma. When person casts an equal eye upon praise and dispraise, gold and iron, happiness and misery, heat and cold, good and evil, the agreeable and the disagreeable, life and death, he is then said to attain to Brahma. One observing the duties of the mendicant orders should restrain one's senses and the mind even like a tortoise withdrawing its out-stretched limbs.[1744] As a house enveloped in darkness is capable of being seen with the aid of a lighted lamp, after the same manner can the soul be seen with the aid of the lamp of the understanding. O foremost of intelligent persons, I see that all this knowledge that I am communicating to thee dwells in thee. Whatever else should be known by one desirous of learning the religion of Emancipation is already known to thee. O regenerate Rishi, I am convinced that through the grace of thy preceptor and through the instructions thou hast received, thou hast already transcended all objects of the senses.[1745] O great ascetic, through the grace of that sire of thine, I have attained to omniscience, and hence I have succeeded in knowing thee. Thy knowledge is much greater than what thou thinkest thou hast. Thy perceptions also that result from intuition are much greater than what thou thinkest thou hast. Thy puissance also is much greater than thou art conscious of. Whether in consequence of thy tender age, or of the doubts thou hast not been able to dispel, or of the fear that is due to the unattainment of Emancipation, thou art not conscious of that knowledge due to intuition although it has arisen in thy mind. After one's doubts have been dispelled by persons like us, one succeeds in opening the knots of one's heart and then, by a righteous exertion one attains to and becomes conscious of that knowledge. As regards thyself, thou art one that hast already acquired knowledge. Thy intelligence is steady and tranquil. Thou art free from covetousness. For all that, O Brahmana, one never succeeds in attaining to Brahma, which is the highest object of acquisition, without exertion. Thou seest no distinction between happiness and misery. Thou art not covetous. Thou hast no longing for dancing and song. Thou hast no attachments. Thou hast no attachment to friends. Thou hast no fear in things that inspire fear. O blessed one, I see that thou castest an equal eye upon a lump of gold and a clod of earth. Myself and other persons possessed of wisdom, behold thee established in the highest and indestructible path of tranquillity. Thou stayest, O Brahmana, in those duties which obtain for the Brahmana that fruit which should be his and which is identical with the essence of the object represented by Emancipation. What else hast thou to ask me?'"'" SECTION CCCXXVIII "'Bhishma said, "Having heard these words of king Janaka, Suka of cleansed soul and settled conclusions began to stay in his Soul by his Soul, having of course seen Self by Self.[1746] His object being accomplished, he became happy and tranquil, and without putting further questions to Janaka, he proceeded northwards to the mountains of Himavat with the speed of the wind and like the wind.[1747] These mountains abounded with diverse tribes of Apsaras and echoed with many lofty sounds. Teeming with thousands of Kinnaras and Bhringarajas[1748] it was adorned, besides, with many Madgus and Khanjaritas and many Jivajivakas of variegated hue. And there were many peacocks also of gorgeous colours, uttering their shrill but melodious cries. Many bevies of swans also, and many flights of gladdened Kokilas too, adorned the place. The prince of birds, viz., Garuda, dwelt on that summit constantly. The four Regents of the world, the deities, and diverse classes of Rishis, used always to come there from the desire of doing good to the world. It was there that the high-souled Vishnu had undergone the severest austerities for the object of obtaining a son. It was there that the celestial generalissimo named Kumara, in his younger days, disregarding the three worlds with all the celestial denizens, threw down his dart, piercing the Earth therewith. Throwing down his dart, Skanda addressing the universe, said,--'If there be any person that is superior to me in might, or that holds Brahmanas to be dearer, or that can compare with me in devotion to the Brahmanas and the Vedas, or that is possessed of energy like unto me, let him draw up this dart or at least shake it!'--Hearing this challenge, the three worlds become filled with anxiety, and all creatures asked one another, saying,--'Who will raise this dart?'--Vishnu beheld all the deities and Asuras and Rakshasas to be troubled in their senses and mind. He reflected upon what should be the best to be done under the circumstances. Without being able to bear that challenge in respect of the hurling of the dart, he cast his eyes on Skanda, the son of the Fire-god. The pure-souled Vishnu caught hold of the blazing dart, with his left hand, and began to shake it. When the dart was being thus shaken by Vishnu possessed of great might, the whole Earth with her mountains, forests, and seas, shook with the dart. Although Vishnu was fully competent to raise the dart, still he contented himself with only shaking it. In this, the puissant lord only kept the honour of Skanda intact. Having shaken it himself, the divine Vishnu, addressing Prahlada, said,--'Behold the might of Kumara! None else in the universe can raise this dart!' Unable to bear this, Prahlada resolved to raise the dart. He seized it, but was unable to shake it at all. Uttering a loud cry, he fell down on the hill-top in a swoon. Indeed, the son of Hiranya-kasipu fell down on the Earth. Repairing towards the northern side of those grand mountains, Mahadeva, having the bull for his sign, had undergone the austerest penances. The asylum where Mahadeva had undergone those austerities is encompassed on all sides with a blazing fire. Unapproachable by persons of uncleansed souls, that mountain is known by the name of Aditya. There is a fiery girdle all around it, of the width of ten Yojanas, and it is incapable of being approached by Yakshas and Rakshasas and Danavas. The illustrious god of Fire, possessed of mighty energy, dwells there in person employed in removing all impediments from the side of Mahadeva of great wisdom who remained there for a thousand celestial years, all the while standing on one foot. Dwelling on the side of that foremost of mountains, Mahadeva of high vows (by his penances) scorched the deities greatly.[1749] At the foot of those mountains, in a retired spot, Parasara's son of great ascetic merit, viz., Vyasa, taught the Vedas unto his disciples. Those disciples were the highly blessed Sumantra, Vaisampayana, Jaimini of great wisdom, and Paila of great ascetic merit. Suka proceeded to that delightful asylum where his sire, the great ascetic Vyasa, was dwelling, surrounded by his disciples. Seated in his asylum, Vyasa beheld his son approach like a blazing fire of scattered flames, or resembling the sun himself in effulgence. As Suka approached, he did not seem to touch the trees or the rocks of the mountain. Completely dissociated from all objects of the senses, engaged in Yoga, the high-souled ascetic came, resembling, in speed, a shaft let from a bow. Born on the fire-sticks, Suka, approaching his sire, touched his feet. With becoming formalities he then accosted the disciples of his sire. With great cheerfulness he then detailed to his father all the particulars of his conversation with king Janaka. Vyasa the son of Parasara, after the arrival of his puissant son, continued to dwell there on the Himavat engaged in teaching his disciples and his son. One day as he was seated, his disciples, all well-skilled in the Vedas, having their senses under control, and endued with tranquil souls, sat themselves around him. All of them had thoroughly mastered the Vedas with their branches. All of them were observant of penances. With joined hands they addressed their preceptor in the following words. "'"The disciples said, 'We have, through thy grace, been endued with great energy. Our fame also has spread. There is one favour that we humbly solicit thee to grant us.' Hearing these words of theirs, the regenerate Rishi answered them, saying, 'Ye sons, tell me what that boon is which ye wish I should grant you!' Hearing this answer of their preceptor, the disciples became filled with joy. Once more bowing their heads low unto their preceptor and joining their hands, all of them in one voice said, O king, these excellent words: 'If our preceptor has been pleased with us, then, O best of sages, we are sure to be crowned with success! We all solicit thee, O great Rishi, to grant us a boon. Be thou inclined to be graceful to us. Let no sixth disciple (besides us five) succeed in attaining to fame! We are four. Our preceptor's son forms the fifth. Let the Vedas shine in only us five! Even this is the boon that we solicit.'--Hearing these words of his disciples, Vyasa, the son of Parasara, possessed of great intelligence, well-conversant with the meaning of the Vedas, endued with a righteous soul, and always engaged in thinking of objects that confer benefits on a person in the world hereafter, said unto his disciples these righteous words fraught with great benefit: 'The Vedas should always be given unto him who is a Brahmana, or unto him who is desirous of listening to Vedic instructions, by him who eagerly wishes to attain a residence in the region of Brahman! Do ye multiply. Let the Vedas spread (through your exertions). The Vedas should never be imparted unto one that has not formally become a disciple. Nor should they be given unto one who is not observant of good vows. Nor should they be given for dwelling in one that is of uncleansed soul. These should be known as the proper qualifications of persons that can be accepted as disciples (for the communication of Vedic knowledge). No science should be imparted unto one without a proper examination of one's character, as pure gold is tested by heat, cutting and rubbing, after the same manner disciples should be tested by their birth and accomplishments. Ye should never set your disciples to tasks to which they should not be set, or to tasks that are fraught with danger. One's knowledge is always commensurate with one's understanding and diligence in study. Let all disciples conquer all difficulties, and let all of them meet with auspicious success. Ye are competent to lecture on the scriptures unto persons of all the orders. Only ye should, while lecturing, address a Brahmana, placing him in the van. These are the rules in respect of the study of the Vedas. This again is regarded as a high task. The Vedas were created by the Self-born for the purpose of praising the deities therewith. That man who, through stupefaction of intellect, speaks ill of a Brahmana well-conversant with the Vedas, is certain to meet with humiliation in consequence of such evil-speaking. He who disregarding all righteous rules, solicits knowledge, and he who, disregarding the rules of righteousness, communicates knowledge, either of them falls off and instead of that affection which should prevail between preceptor and disciple, such questioning and such communication are sure to produce distrust and suspicion. I have now told ye everything about the way in which the Vedas should be studied and taught. Ye should act in this way towards your disciples, bearing these instructions in your minds.'"'" SECTION CCCXXIX "'Bhishma said, "Hearing these words of their preceptor, Vyasa's disciples endued with energy, became filled with joy and embraced one another. Addressing one another, they said,--'That which has been said by our illustrious preceptor in view of our future good, will live in our remembrance and we shall certainly act according to it.'--Having said this unto one another with joyful hearts, the disciples of Vyasa, who were thorough masters of words, once more addressed their preceptor and said,--'If it pleases thee, O puissant one, we wish to descend from this mountain to the Earth, O great ascetic, for the purpose of subdividing the Vedas!'--Hearing these words of his disciples, the puissant son of Parasara replied unto them in these beneficial words that were fraught, besides, with righteousness and profit,--You may repair to the Earth or to the regions of the celestials, as ye like. You should always be heedful, for the Vedas are such that they are always liable to be misunderstood![1750]--Permitted by their preceptor of truthful speech, the disciples left him after circumambulating him and bowing their heads unto him. Descending upon the Earth they performed the Agnishtoma and other sacrifices; and they began to officiate at the sacrifices of Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas. Happily passing their days in the domestic mode of life, they were treated by the Brahmanas with great respect. Possessed of great fame and prosperity, they were employed in teaching and officiating in sacrifices. After his disciples had gone away, Vyasa remained in his asylum, with only his son in his company. Passing his days in anxious thoughtfulness, the great Rishi, possessed of wisdom, kept silent, sitting in a retired corner of the asylum. At that time Narada of great ascetic merit came to that spot for seeing Vyasa, and addressing him, said these words of melodious sound. "'"Narada said, 'O regenerate Rishi of Vasishtha's race, why are Vedic sounds silent now? Why art thou sitting silent and alone engaged in meditation like one taken up with an engrossing thought? Alas, shorn of Vedic echoes, this mountain hath lost its beauty, even as the Moon shorn of splendour when assailed by Rahu or enveloped in dust.[1751] Though inhabited by the celestial Rishis, yet shorn of Vedic sounds, the mountain no longer looks beautiful now but resembles a hamlet of Nishadas.[1752] The Rishis, the deities, and the Gandharvas, too, no longer shine as before in consequence of being deprived of Vedic sound!'--Hearing these words of Narada, the Island-born Krishna answered, saying,--'O great Rishi, O thou art conversant with the declarations of the Vedas, all that thou hast said is agreeable to me and it truly behoves thee to say it unto me! Thou art omniscient, thou hast seen everything. Thy curiosity also embraces all things within its sphere. All that has ever occurred in the three worlds is well known to thee. Do thou then, O regenerate Rishi, set thy commands on me. O, tell me what I am to do! Tell me, O regenerate Rishi, what should now be done by me. Separated from my disciples, my mind has become very cheerless now.' "'"Narada said, 'The stain of the Vedas is the suspension of their recitation. The stain of the Brahmanas is their non-observance of vows. The Valhika race is the stain of the Earth. Curiosity is the stain of women. Do thou with thy intelligent son recite the Vedas, and do thou with the echoes of Vedic sounds dispel the fears arising from Rakshasas.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hearing these words of Narada, Vyasa, the foremost of all persons conversant with duties and firmly devoted to Vedic recitation, became filled with joy and answered Narada, saying,--So be it--With his son Suka, he set himself to recite the Vedas in a loud sonorous voice, observing all the rules of orthoepy and, as it were, filling the three worlds with that sound. One day as sire and son, who were well-conversant with all duties, were engaged in reciting the Vedas, a violent wind arose that seemed to be impelled by the gales that blow on the bosom of the ocean. Understanding from this circumstance that the hour was suited to sacred recitation, Vyasa immediately bade his son to suspend the recitation. Suka, thus forbidden by his sire, became filled with curiosity. He asked his sire, saying,--O regenerate one, whence is this wind? It behoveth thee to tell me everything about the conduct of the Wind.--Hearing this question of Suka, Vyasa became filled with amazement. He answered Suka, by telling him that an omen which indicated that the recitation of the Vedas should be suspended.--'Thou hast obtained spiritual vision. Thy mind too has, of itself, become cleansed of every impurity. Thou hast been freed from the attributes of Passion and Darkness. Thou stayest now in the attributes of Goodness. Thou beholdest now thy Soul with thy Soul even as one beholds one's own shadow in a mirror. Staying thyself on thy own Soul, do thou reflect on the Vedas. The path of the Supreme Soul is called Deva-yana (the path of the gods). The path that is made up of the attribute of Tamas is called Pitri-yana (the path of Pitris). These are the two paths in the world hereafter. By one, people go to heaven. By the other, people go to hell. The winds blow on the Earth's surface and in the welkin. There are seven courses in which they blow. Listen to me as I recount them one after another. The body is furnished with the senses are dominated over by the Sadhyas and many great beings of mighty strength. These gave birth to an invincible son named Samana. From Samana sprang a son called Udana. From Udana sprang Vyana arose Apana, and lastly from Apana sprung the wind called Prana. That invincible scorcher of all foes, viz., Prana, became childless. I shall now recite to thee the different functions of those winds. The wind is the cause of the different functions of all living creatures, and because living creatures are enabled to live by it, therefore is the wind called Prana (or life). That wind which is the first in the above enumeration and which is known by the name of Pravaha (Samana) urges, along the first course, masses of clouds born of smoke and heat. Coursing through the welkin, and coming into contact with the water contained in the clouds, that wind displays itself in effulgence among the darts of lightning.[1753] The second wind called Avaha blows with a loud noise. It is this wind that causes Soma and the other luminaries to rise and appear. Within the body (which is a microcosm of the universe) that wind is called Udana by the wise. That wind which sucks up water from the four oceans, and having sucked it up imparts it to the clouds in the welkin, and which, having imparted it to the clouds present them to the deity of rain, is third in the enumeration and known by the name of Udvaha. That wind which supports the clouds and divided them into diverse portions, which melts them for pouring rain and once more solidifies them, which is perceived as the sound of the roaring clouds, which exists for the preservation of the world by itself assuming the form of the clouds, which bears the cars of all celestial beings along the sky, is known by the name of Samvaha. The fourth in the enumeration, it is endued with great strength so that it is capable of ending the very mountains. The fifth wind is fraught with great force and speed. It is dry and uproots and breaks down all trees. Existing with it, the clouds come to be called by the name of Valahaka. That wind causes calamitous phenomena of many kinds, and produces roaring sounds in the firmament. It is known by the name of Vivaha. The sixth wind bears all celestial waters in the firmament and prevents them from falling down. Sustaining the sacred waters of the celestial Ganga, that wind blows, preventing them from having a downward course. Obstructed by that wind from a distance, the Sun, which is really the source of a thousand rays, and which enlightens the world, appears as a luminous body of but one ray. Through the action of that wind, the Moon, after waning, wanes again till he displays his full disc. That wind is known, O foremost of ascetics, by the name Parivaha.[1754] That wind which takes away the life of all living creatures when the proper hour comes, whose track is followed by Death and Surya's son Yama, which becomes the source of that immortality which is attained by Yogins of subtile sight who are always engaged in Yoga meditation, by whose aid the thousands of grandsons of Daksha, that lord of creatures, by his ten sons, succeeded in days of old in attaining to the ends of the universe, whose touch enables one to attain to Emancipation by freeing oneself from the obligation of returning so the world,--that wind is called by the name of Paravaha. The foremost of all winds, it is incapable of being resisted by anybody. Wonderful are these winds all of whom are the sons of Diti. Capable of going everywhere and upholding all things, they blow all around thee without being attached to thee at any time. This, however, is exceedingly wonderful viz., that this foremost of mountains should thus be suddenly shaken by that wind which has begun to blow. This wind is the breath of Vishnu's nostrils. When urged forth with speed, it begins to blow with great force at which the whole universe becomes agitated. Hence, when the wind begins to blow with violence, persons conversant with the Vedas do not recite the Vedas. The Vedas are a form of wind. If uttered with force, the external wind becomes tortured.' "'"Having said these words, the puissant son of Parasara bade his son (when the wind had ceased) to go on with his Vedic recitation. He then left that spot for plunging into the waters of the celestial Ganga."'"[1755] SECTION CCCXXX "'Bhishma said, "After Vyasa had left the spot, Narada, traversing through the sky, came to Suka employed in studying the scriptures. The celestial Rishi came for the object of asking Suka the meaning of certain portions of the Vedas. Beholding the celestial Rishi Narada arrived at his retreat, Suka worshipped him by offering him the Arghya according to the rites laid down in the Vedas. Pleased with the honours bestowed upon him, Narada addressed Suka, saying,--'Tell me, O foremost of righteous persons, by what means, O dear child, may I accomplish what is for thy highest good!'--Hearing these words of Narada, Suka said unto him, O Bharata, these words:--'It behoveth thee to instruct me in respect of that which may be beneficial to me.' "'"Narada said, 'In days of yore the illustrious Sanatkumara had said these words unto certain Rishis of cleansed souls that had repaired to him for enquiring after the truth. There is no eye like that of knowledge. There is no penance like renunciation. Abstention from sinful acts, steady practice of righteousness, good conduct, the due observance of all religious duties,--these constitute the highest good. Having obtained the status of humanity which is fraught with sorrow, he that becomes attached to it, becomes stupefied: such a man never succeeds in emancipating himself from sorrow. Attachment (to things of the world) is an indication of sorrow. The understanding of person that is attached to worldly things becomes more and more enmeshed in the net of stupefaction. The man who becomes enmeshed in the net of stupefaction attains to sorrow, both here and hereafter. One should, by every means in one's power, restrain both desire and wrath if one seeks to achieve what is for one's good. Those two (viz., desire and wrath) arise for only destroying one's good.[1756] One should always protect one's penances from wrath, and one's prosperity from pride. One should always protect one's knowledge from honour and dishonour and one's soul from error.[1757] Compassion is the highest virtue. Forgiveness is the highest might. The knowledge of self is the highest knowledge. There is nothing higher than truth. It is always proper to speak the truth. It is better again to speak what is beneficial than to speak what is true. I hold that that is truth which is fraught with the greatest benefit in all creatures.[1758] That man is said to be truly learned and truly possessed of wisdom who abandons every act, who never indulges in hope, who is completely dissociated from all worldly surroundings, and who has renounced everything that appertains to the world. That person who, without being attached thereto, enjoys all objects of sense with the aid of senses that are completely under his control, who is possessed of a tranquil soul, who is never moved by joy or sorrow, who is engaged in Yoga-meditation, who lives in companionship with the deities presiding over his senses and dissociated also from them, and who, though endued with a body, never regards himself as identifiable with it, becomes emancipated and very soon attains to that which is highest good. One who never sees others, never touches others, never talks with others, soon, O ascetic, attains to what is for one's highest good. One should not injure any creature. On the other hand, one should conduct oneself in perfect friendliness towards all. Having obtained the status of humanity, one should never behave inimically towards any being. A complete disregards for all (worldly) things, perfect contentments, abandonment of hope of every kind, and patience,--these constitute the highest good of one that has subjugated one's senses and acquired a knowledge of self. Casting off all attachments, O child, do thou subjugate all thy senses, and by that means attain to felicity both here and hereafter. They that are free from cupidity have never to suffer any sorrow. One should, therefore, cast off all cupidity from one's soul. By casting off cupidity, O amiable and blessed one, thou shalt be able to free thyself from sorrow and pain. One who wishes to conquer that which is unconquerable should live devoting oneself to penances, to self-restraint, to taciturnity, to a subjugation of the soul. Such a person should live in the midst of attachments without being attached to them.[1759] That Brahmana who lives in the midst of attachments without being attached to them and who always lives in seclusion, very soon attains to the highest felicity. That man who lives in happiness by himself in the midst of creatures who are seen to take delight in leading lives of sexual union, should be known to be a person whose thirst has been slaked by knowledge. It is well known that that man whose thirst has been slaked by knowledge has never to indulge in grief. One attains to the status of the deities by means of good acts; to the status of humanity by means of acts that are good and bad; while by acts that are purely wicked, one helplessly falls down among the lower animals. Always assailed by sorrow and decrepitude and death, a living creature is being cooked in this world (in the cauldron of Time). Dost thou not known it? Thou frequently regardest that to be beneficial which is really injurious; that to be certain which is really uncertain; and that to be desirable and good which is undesirable and not good. Alas, why dost thou not awake to a correct apprehension of these? Like a silkworm that ensconces itself in its own cocoon, thou art continually ensconcing thyself in a cocoon made of thy own innumerable acts born of stupefaction and error. Alas, why dost thou not awake to a correct apprehension of thy situation? No need of attaching thyself to things of this world. Attachment to worldly objects is productive of evil. The silk-worm that weaves a cocoon round itself is at last destroyed by its own act. Those persons that become attached to sons and spouses and relatives meet with destruction at last, even as wild elephants sunk in the mire of a lake are gradually weakened till overtaken by Death. Behold, all creatures that suffer themselves to be dragged by the net of affection become subject to great grief even as fishes on land, dragged thereto by means of large nets! Relatives, sons, spouses, the body itself, and all one's possessions stored with care, are unsubstantial and prove of no service in the next world. Only acts, good and bad, that one does, follow one to the other world. When it is certain that thou shalt have to go helplessly to the other world, leaving behind thee all these things alas, why dost thou then suffer thyself to be attached to such unsubstantial things of no value, without attending to that which constitutes thy real and durable wealth? The path which thou shalt have to travel through is without resting places of any kind (in which to take rest). There is no support along that way which one may catch for upholding oneself. The country through which it passes is unknown and undiscovered. It is, again enveloped in thick darkness. Alas, how shalt thou proceed along that way without equipping thyself with the necessary expenses? When thou shalt go along that road, nobody will follow thee behind. Only thy acts, good and bad, will follow behind thee when thou shalt depart from this world for the next. One seeks one's object of objects by means of learning, acts, purity (both external and internal), and great knowledge. When that foremost of objects is attained, one becomes freed (from rebirth). The desire that one feels for living in the midst of human habitations is like a binding cord. They that are of good acts succeed in tearing that bond and freeing themselves. Only men of wicked deeds do not succeed in breaking them. The river of life (or the world) is terrible. Personal beauty or form constitutes its banks. The mind is the speed of its current. Touch forms its island. Taste constitutes its current. Scent is its mire. Sound is its waters. That particular part of it which leads towards heaven is attended with great difficulties. Body is the boat by which one must cross that river. Forgiveness is the oar by which it is to be propelled. Truth is the ballast that is to steady that boat. The practice of righteousness is the string that is to be attached to the mast for dragging that boat along difficult waters. Charity of gift constitutes the wind that urges the sails of that boat. Endued with swift speed, it is with that boat that one must cross the river of life. Cast off both virtue and vice, and truth and falsehood. Having cast off truth and falsehood, do thou cast off that by which these are to be cast off. By casting off all purpose, do thou cast off virtue; do thou cast off sin also by casting off all desire. With the aid of the understanding, do thou cast off truth and falsehood; and, at last, do thou cast off the understanding itself by knowledge of the highest topic (viz., the supreme Soul). Do thou cast off this body having bones for its pillars; sinews for its binding strings and cords; flesh and blood for its outer plaster; the skin for its outer case; full of urine and faeces and, therefore, emitting a foul smell; exposed to the assaults of decrepitude and sorrow; forming the seat of disease and weakened by pain; possessed of the attribute of Rajas in predominance: not permanent or durable, and which serves as the (temporary) habitation of the indwelling creature. This entire universe of matter, and that which is called Mahat or Buddhi, are made up of the (five), great elements. That which is called Mahat is due to the action of the Supreme. The five senses, the three attributes of Tamas, Sattwa, and Rajas,--these (together with those which have been mentioned before) constitute a tale of seventeen. These seventeen, which are known by the name of the Unmanifest, with all those that are called Manifest, viz., the five objects of the five senses, (that is to say, form, taste, sound, touch, and scent), with Consciousness and the Understanding, form the well-known tale of four and twenty. When endued with these four and twenty possessions, one comes to be called by the name of Jiva (or Puman). He who knows the aggregate of three (viz., Religion, Wealth, and Pleasure), as also happiness and sorrow and life and death, truly and in all their details, is said to know growth and decay. Whatever objects exist of knowledge, should be known gradually, one after another. All objects that are apprehended by the senses are called Manifest. Whatever objects transcend the senses and are apprehended by means only of their indications are said to be Unmanifest. By restraining the senses, one wins great gratification, even like a thirsty and parched traveller at a delicious shower of rain. Having subjugated the senses one beholds one's soul spread out for embracing all objects, and all objects in one's soul. Having its roots in knowledge, the puissance is never lost of the man who (thus) beholds the Supreme in his soul,--of the man, that is to say, who always beholds all creatures in all conditions (in his own soul).[1760] He who by the aid of knowledge, transcends all kinds of pain born of error and stupefaction, never catches any evil by coming into contact with all creatures.[1761] Such a man, his understanding being fully displayed, never finds fault with the course of conduct that prevails in the world. One conversant with Emancipation says that the Supreme Soul is without beginning and without end; that it takes birth as all creatures; that it resides (as a witness) in the Jiva-soul; that it is inactive, and without form. Only that man who meets with grief in consequence of his own misdeeds, slays numerous creatures for the purpose of warding off that grief.[1762] In consequence of such sacrifices, the performers have to attain to rebirths and have necessarily to perform innumerable acts on every side. Such a man, blinded by error, and regarding that to be felicity which is really a source of grief, is continually rendered unhappy even like a sick person that eats food that is improper. Such a man is pressed and grinded by his acts like any substance that is churned. Bound by his acts, he obtains re-birth, the order of his life being determined by the nature of his acts. Suffering many kinds of torture, he travels in a repeated round of rebirths even like a wheel that turns ceaselessly. Thou, however, hast cut through all thy bonds. Thou, abstainest from all acts! Possessed of omniscience and the master of all things, let success be thine, and do thou become freed from all existent objects. Through subjugation of their senses and the power of their penances, many persons (in days of yore), having destroyed the bonds of action, attained to high success and uninterrupted felicity.'"'" SECTION CCCXXXI "'"Narada said, 'By listening to such scriptures as are blessed, as bring about tranquillity, as dispel grief, and as are productive of happiness, one attains to (a pure) understanding, and having attained to it obtains to high felicity. A thousand causes of sorrow, a hundred causes of fear, from day to day, afflict one that is destitute of understanding, but not one that is possessed of wisdom and learning. Do thou, therefore, listen to some old narratives as I recite them to you, for the object of dispelling thy griefs. If one can subjugate one's understanding, one is sure to attain to happiness. By association of what is undesirable and dissociation from what is agreeable, only men of little intelligence, become subject to mental sorrow of every kind. When things have become past, one should not grieve, thinking of their merits. He that thinks of such past things with affection can never emancipate himself. One should always seek to find out the faults of those things to which one begins to become attached. One should always regard such things to be fraught with much evil. By doing so, one should soon free oneself therefrom. The man who grieves for what is past fails to acquire either wealth or religious merit or fame. That which exists no longer cannot be obtained. When such things pass away, they do not return (however keen the regret one may indulge in for their sake). Creatures sometimes acquire and sometimes lose worldly object. No man in this world can be grieved by all the events that fall upon him. Dead or lost, he who grieves for what is past, only gets sorrow for sorrow. Instead of one sorrow, he gets two.[1763] Those men who, beholding the course of life and death in the world with the aid of their intelligence, do not shed tears, are said to behold properly. Such persons have never to shed tears, (at anything that may happen). When any such calamity comes, productive of either physical or mental grief, as is incapable of being warded off by even one's best efforts, one should cease to reflect on it with sorrow. This is the medicine for sorrow, viz., not to think of it. By thinking of it, one can never dispel it; on the other hand, by thinking upon sorrow, one only enhances it. Mental griefs should be killed by wisdom; while physical grief should be dispelled by medicines. This is the power of knowledge. One should not, in such matters, behave like men of little understandings. Youth, beauty, life, stored wealth, health, association with those that are loved,--these all are exceedingly transitory. One possessed of wisdom should never covet them. One should not lament individually for a sorrowful occurrence that concerns an entire community. Instead of indulgence in it when grief comes, one should seek to avert it and apply a remedy as soon as one sees the opportunity for doing it. There is no doubt that in this life the measure of misery is much greater than that of happiness. There is no doubt in this that all men show attachment for objects of the senses and that death is regarded as disagreeable. That man who casts off both joy and sorrow, is said to attain to Brahma. When such a man departs from this world, men of wisdom never indulge in any sorrow on his account. In spending wealth there is pain. In protecting it there is pain. In acquiring it there is pain. Hence, when one's wealth meets with destruction, one should not indulge in any sorrow for it. Men of little understanding, attaining to different grades of wealth, fail to win contentment and at last perish in misery. Men of wisdom, however, are always contented. All combinations are destined to end in dissolution. All things that are high are destined to fall down and become low. Union is sure to end in disunion and life is certain to end in death. Thirst is unquenchable. Contentment is the highest happiness. Hence, persons of wisdom regard contentment to be the most precious wealth. One's allotted period of life is running continually. It stops not in its course for even a single moment. When one's body itself is not durable, what other thing is there (in this world) that one should reckon as durable? Those persons who, reflecting on the nature of all creatures and concluding that it is beyond the grasp of the mind, turn their attention to the highest path, and, setting out, achieve a fair progress in it, have not to indulge in sorrow.[1764] Like a tiger seizing and running away with its prey, Death seizes and runs away with the man that is employed in such (unprofitable) occupation and that is still unsatiated with objects of desire and enjoyment. One should always seek to emancipate oneself from sorrow. One should seek to dispel sorrow by beginning one's operations with cheerfulness, that is, without indulging in sorrow the while, having freed oneself from a particular sorrow, one should act in such a way as to keep sorrow at a distance by abstaining from all faults of conduct.[1765] The rich and the poor alike find nothing in sound and touch and form and scent and taste, after the immediate enjoyment thereof.[1766] Before union, creatures are never subject to sorrow. Hence, one that has not fallen off from one's original nature, never indulges in sorrow when that union comes to an end.[1767] One should restrain one's sexual appetite and the stomach with the aid of patience. One should protect one's hands and feet with the aid of the eye. One's eyes and ears and the other senses should be protected by the mind. One's mind and speech should be ruled with the aid of wisdom. Casting off love and affection for persons that are known as well as for those that are unknown, one should conduct oneself with humility. Such a person is said to be possessed of wisdom, and such a one surely finds happiness. That man who is pleased with his own Soul[1768] who is devoted to Yoga, who depends upon nothing out of self, who is without cupidity, and who conducts himself without the assistance of anything but his self, succeeds in attaining to felicity.'"'" SECTION CCCXXXII "'"Narada said, 'When the vicissitudes of happiness and sorrow appear or disappear, the transitions are incapable of being prevented by either wisdom or policy or exertion. Without allowing oneself to fall away from one's true nature, one should strive one's best for protecting one's own Self. He who betakes himself to such care and exertion, has never to languish. Regarding Self as something dear, one should always seek to rescue oneself from decrepitude, death, and disease. Mental and physical diseases afflict the body, like keen-pointed shafts shot from the bow by a strong bowman. The body of a person that is tortured by thirst, that is agitated by agony, that is perfectly helpless, and that is desirous of prolonging his life, is dragged towards destruction.[1769] Days and nights are ceaselessly running bearing away in their current the periods of life of all human beings. Like currents of rivers, these flow ceaselessly without ever turning back.[1770] The ceaseless succession of the lighted and the dark fortnights is wasting all mortal creatures without stopping for even a moment in this work. Rising and setting day after day, the Sun, who is himself undecaying, is continually cooking the joys and sorrows of all men. The nights are ceaselessly going away, taking with them the good and bad incidents that befall man, that depend on destiny, and that are unexpected by him. If the fruits of man's acts were not dependent on other circumstances, then one would obtain whatever object one would desire. Even men of restrained senses, of cleverness, and of intelligence, if destitute of acts, never succeed in earning any fruits.[1771] Others, though destitute of intelligence and unendued with accomplishments of any kind, and who are really the lowest of men, are seen, even when they do not long after success, to be crowned with the fruition of all their desires.[1772] Some one else, who is always ready to do acts of injury to all creatures, and who is engaged in deceiving all the world, is seen to wallow in happiness. Some one that sits idly, obtains great prosperity; while another, by exerting earnestly, is seen to miss desirable fruits almost within his reach.[1773] Do thou ascribe it as one of the faults of man! The vital seed, originating in one's nature from sight of one person, goes to another person. When imparted to the womb, it sometimes produces an embryo and sometimes fails. When sexual congress fails, it resembles a mango tree that puts forth a great many flowers without, however, producing a single fruit.[1774] As regards some men who are desirous of having offspring and who, for the fruition of their object, strive heartily (by worshipping diverse deities), they fail to procreate an embryo in the womb. Some person again, who fears the birth of an embryo as one fears a snake of virulent poison, finds a long-lived son born unto him and who seems to be his own self come back to the stages through which he has passed. Many persons with ardent longing for offspring and cheerless on that account, after sacrificing to many deities and undergoing severe austerities, at last beget children, duly borne for ten long months (in the wombs of their spouses), that prove to be veritable wretches of their race. Others, who have been obtained through virtue of such blessed rites and observances, at once obtain wealth and grain and diverse other sources of enjoyment earned and stored by their sires. In an act of congress, when two persons of opposite sexes come into contact with one another, the embryo takes birth in the womb, like a calamity afflicting the mother. Very soon after the suspension of the vital breaths, other physical forms possess that embodied creature whose gross body has been destroyed but whose acts have all been performed with that gross body made of flesh and phlegm.[1775] Upon the dissolution of the body, another body, which is as much destructible as the one that is destroyed, is kept ready for the burnt and destroyed creature (to migrate into) even as one boat goes to another for transferring to itself the passengers of the other.[1776] In consequence of an act of congress, a drop of the vital seed, that is inanimate, is cast into the womb. I ask thee, through whose or what care is the embryo kept alive? That part of the body into which the food that is eaten goes and where it is digested, is the place where the embryo resides, but it is not digested there. In the womb, amid urine and faeces, one's sojourn is regulated by Nature. In the matter of residence therein or escape therefrom, the born creature is not a free agent. In fact, in these respects, he is perfectly helpless. Some embryos fall from the womb (in an undeveloped state). Some come out alive (and continue to live). While as regards some, they meet with destruction in the womb, after being quickened with life, in consequence of some other bodies being ready for them (through the nature of their acts).[1777] That man who, in an act of sexual congress, injects the vital fluid, obtains from it a son or daughter. The offspring thus obtained, when the time comes, takes part in a similar act of congress. When the allotted period of a person's life is at its close, the five primal elements of his body attain to the seventh and the ninth stages and then cease to be. The person, however, undergoes no change.[1778] Without doubt, when persons are afflicted by diseases as little animals assailed by hunters, they then lose the powers of rising up and moving about. If when men are afflicted by diseases, they wish to spend even vast wealth, physicians with their best efforts fail to alleviate their pain. Even physicians, that are well-skilled and well-up in their scriptures and well-equipt with excellent medicines, are themselves afflicted by disease like animals assailed by hunters. Even if men drink many astringents and diverse kinds of medicated ghee, they are seen to be broken by decrepitude like trees by strong elephants. When animals and birds and beasts of prey and poor men are afflicted by ailments, who treats them with medicines? Indeed, these are not seen to be ill. Like larger animals assailing smaller ones, ailments are seen to afflict even terrible kings of fierce energy and invincible prowess. All men, reft of the power of even uttering cries indicate of pain, and overwhelmed by error and grief, are seen to be borne away along the fierce current into which they have been thrown. Embodied creatures, even when seeking to conquer nature, are unable to conquer it with the aid of wealth, of sovereign power, or of the austerest penances.[1779] If all attempts men make were crowned with success, then men would never be subject to decrepitude, would never come upon anything disagreeable, and lastly would be crowned with fruition in respect of all their wishes. All men wish to attain to gradual superiority of position. To gratify this wish they strive to the best of their power. The result, however, does not agree with wish.[1780] Even men that are perfectly heedful, that are honest, and brave and endued with prowess, are seen to pay their adorations to men intoxicated with the pride of affluence and with even alcoholic stimulants.[1781] Some men are seen whose calamities disappear before even these are marked or noticed by them. Others there are who are seen to possess no wealth but who are free from misery of every kind. A great disparity is observable in respect of the fruits that wait upon conjunctions of acts. Some are seen to bear vehicles on their shoulders, while some are seen to ride on those vehicles. All men are desirous of affluence and prosperity. A few only have cars (and elephants and steeds) dragged (or walking) in their processions. Some there are that fail to have a single spouse when their first-wedded ones are dead; while others have hundreds of spouses to call their own. Misery and happiness are the two things that exist side by side. Men have either misery or happiness. Behold, this is a subject of wonder! Do not, however, suffer thyself to be stupefied by error at such a sight! Cast off both righteousness and sin! Cast off also truth and falsehood! Having cast off truth and falsehood, do thou then cast off that with whose aid thou shalt cast off the former! O best of Rishis, I have now told thee that which is a great misery! With the aid of such instructions, the deities (who were all human beings) succeeded in leaving the Earth for becoming the denizens of heaven!' "'"Hearing these words of Narada Suka, endued with great intelligence and possessed of tranquillity of mind, reflected upon the drift of the instructions he received, but could not arrive at any certainty of conclusion. He understood that one suffers great misery in consequence of the accession of children and spouses; that one has to undergo great labour for the acquisition of science and Vedic lore. He, therefore, asked himself, saying,--'What is that situation which is eternal and which is free from misery of every kind but in which there is great prosperity?'--Reflecting for a moment upon the course ordained for him to run through, Suka, who was well acquainted with the beginning and the end of all duties, resolved to attain to the highest end that is fraught with the greatest felicity. He questioned himself, saying,--'How shall I, tearing all attachments and becoming perfectly free, attain to that excellent end? How, indeed, shall I attain to that excellent situation whence there is no return into the ocean of diverse kinds of birth? I desire to obtain that condition of existence whence there is no return! Casting off all kinds of attachments, arrived at certainty by reflection with the aid of the mind, I shall attain to that end! I shall attain to that situation in which my Soul will have tranquillity, and when I shall be able to dwell for eternity without being subject to decrepitude or change. It is, however, certain that that high end cannot be attained without the aid of Yoga. One that has attained to the state of perfect knowledge and enlightenment never receives an accession of low attachments through acts.[1782] I shall, therefore, have recourse to Yoga, and casting off this body which is my present residence, I shall transform myself into wind and enter that mass of effulgence which is represented by the sun.[1783] When Jiva enters that mass of effulgence, he no longer suffers like Shoma who, with the gods, upon the exhaustion of merit, falls down on the Earth and having once more acquired sufficient merit returns to heavens.[1784] The moon is always seen to wane and once more wax. Seeing this waning and waxing that go on repeatedly, I do not wish to have a form of existence in which there are such changes. The Sun warms all the worlds by means of his fierce rays. His disc never undergoes any diminution. Remaining unchanged, he drinks energy from all things. Hence, I desire to go into the Sun of blazing effulgence.[1785] There I shall live, invincible by all, and in my inner soul freed from all fear, having cast off this body of mine in the solar region. With the great Rishis I shall enter the unbearable energy of the Sun. I declare unto all creatures, unto these trees, these elephants, these mountains, the Earth herself, the several points of the compass, the welkin, the deities, the Danavas, the Gandharvas, the Pisachas, the Uragas, and the Rakshasas, that I shall, verily, enter all creatures in the world.[1786] Let all the gods with the Rishis behold the prowess of my Yoga today!'--Having said these words, Suka, informed Narada of world wide celebrity of his intention. Obtaining Narada's permission, Suka then proceeded to where his sire was. Arrived at his presence, the great Muni, viz., the high-souled and Island-born Krishna, Suka walked round him and addressed him the usual enquiries. Hearing of Suka's intention, the highsouled Rishi became highly pleased. Addressing him, the great Rishi said,--'O son, O dear son, do thou stay here to-day so that I may behold thee for some time for gratifying my eyes.'--Suka, however, was indifferent to that request. Freed from affection and all doubt, he began to think only of Emancipation, and set his heart on the journey. Leaving his sire, that foremost of Rishis then proceeded to the spacious breast of Kailasa which was inhabited by crowds of ascetics crowned with success."'" SECTION CCCXXXIII "'Bhishma said, "Having ascended the summit of the mountain, O Bharata, the son of Vyasa sat down upon a level spot free from blades of grass and retired from the haunts of other creatures. Agreeably to the direction of the scriptures and to the ordinances laid down, that ascetic, conversant with the gradual order of the successive processes of Yoga, held his soul first in one place and then in another, commencing from his feet and proceeding through all the limbs. Then when the Sun had not risen long, Suka sat, with his face turned Eastwards, and hands and feet drawn in, in an humble attitude. In that spot where the intelligent son of Vyasa sat prepared to address himself to Yoga, there were no flocks of birds, no sound, and no sight that was repulsive or terror-inspiring. He then beheld his own Soul freed from all attachments. Beholding that highest of all things, he laughed in joy.[1787] He once more set himself prepared to Yoga for attaining to the path of Emancipation. Becoming the great master of Yoga, he transcended the element of space. He then circumambulated the celestial Rishi Narada, and represented unto that foremost of Rishis the fact of his having addressed himself to the highest Yoga. "'"Suka said,--'I have succeeded in beholding the path (of Emancipation), I have addrest myself to it. Blessed be thou, O thou of wealth of penances! I shall, through thy grace, O thou of great splendour, attain to an end that is highly desirable!'" "'Bhishma said,--"Having received the permission of Narada, Suka the son of the Island-born Vyasa saluted the celestial Rishi and once more set himself to Yoga and entered the element of space. Ascending then from the breast of the Kailasa mountain, he soared into the sky. Capable of traversing through the welkin, the blessed Suka of fixed conclusion, then identified himself with the element of Wind. As that foremost of regenerate ones, possessed of effulgence like that of Garuda, was traversing through the skies with the speed of the wind or thought, all creatures, cast their eyes upon him. Endued with the splendour of fire or the Sun, Suka then regarded the three worlds in their entirety as one homogeneous Brahma, and proceeded along that path of great length. Indeed, all creatures mobile and immobile, cast their eyes upon him as he proceeded with concentrated attention, and a tranquil and fearless soul. All creatures, agreeably to the ordinance and according to their power, worshipped him with reverence. The denizens of heaven rained showers of celestial flowers upon him. Beholding him, all the tribes of Apsaras and Gandharvas became filled with wonder. The Rishis also, that were crowned with success, became equally amazed. And they asked themselves,--'who is this one that has attained to success by his penances?--With gaze withdrawn from his own body but turned upwards he is filling us all with pleasure by his glances!'--Of highly righteous soul and celebrated throughout the three worlds, Suka proceeded in silence, his face turned towards the East and gaze directed towards the sun. As he proceeded, he seemed to fill the entire welkin with an all-pervading noise. Beholding him coming in that way, all the tribes of the Apsaras, struck with awe, O king, became filled with amazement. Headed by Panchachuda and others, they looked at Suka with eyes expanded by wonder. And they asked one another, saying:--'What deity is this one that has attained to such a high end? Without doubt, he comes hither, freed from all attachments and emancipated from all desires!'--Suka then proceeded to the Malaya mountains where Urvasi and Purvachitti used to dwell always. Both of them beholding the energy of the son of the great regenerate Rishi, became filled with wonder. And they said,--'Wonderful is this concentration of attention (to Yoga) of a regenerate youth who was accustomed to the recitation and study of the Vedas! Soon will he traverse the entire welkin like the Moon. It was by dutiful service and humble ministrations towards his sire that he acquired this excellent understanding. He is firmly attached to his sire, possessed of austere penances, and is very much loved by his sire. Alas, why has he been dismissed by his inattentive father to proceed (thus) along a way whence there is no return?'--Hearing these words of Urvasi, and attending to their import, Suka, that foremost of all persons conversant with duties, cast his eyes on all sides, and once more beheld the entire welkin, the whole Earth with her mountains and waters and forests, and also all the lakes and rivers. All the deities also of both sexes, joining their hands, paid reverence to the son of the Island-born Rishi and gazed at him with wonder and respect. That foremost of all righteous men, Suka, addressing all of them, said these words,--'If my sire follow me and repeatedly call after me by my name, do all of you together return him an answer for me. Moved by the affection all of you bear for me, do you accomplish this request of mine!'--Hearing these words of Suka, all the points of the compass, all the forest, all the seas, all the rivers, and all the mountains, answered him from every side, saying,--'We accept thy command, O regenerate one! It shall be as thou sayst! It is in this way that we answer the words spoken by the Rishi!'"'" SECTION CCCXXXIV "'Bhishma said, "Having spoken in this way (unto all things), the regenerate Rishi of austere penances, viz., Suka, stayed on his success casting off the four kinds of faults. Casting off also the eight kinds of Tamas, he dismissed the five kinds of Rajas. Endued with great intelligence, he then cast off the attribute of Sattwa. All this seemed exceedingly wonderful. He then dwelt in that eternal station that is destitute of attributes, freed from every indication, that is, in Brahma, blazing like a smokeless fire. Meteors began to shoot. The points of the compass seemed to be ablaze. The Earth trembled. All those phenomena seemed exceedingly wonderful. The trees began to cast off their branches and the mountains their summits. Loud reports (as of thunder) were heard that seemed to rive the Himavat mountains. The sun seemed at that moment to be shorn of splendour. Fire refused to blaze forth. The lakes and rivers and seas were all agitated. Vasava poured showers of rain of excellent taste and fragrance. A pure breeze began to blow, bearing excellent perfumes. Suka as he proceeded through the welkin, beheld two beautiful summits, one belonging to Himavat and another to Meru. These were in close contact with each other. One of them was made of gold and was, therefore yellow; the other was white, being made of silver. Each of them, O Bharata, was a hundred yojanas in height and of the same measure in breadth. Indeed, as Suka journeyed towards the north, he saw those two beautiful summits. With a fearless heart he dashed against those two summits that were united with each other. Unable to bear the force, the summits were suddenly rent in twain. The sight they thereupon presented, O monarch, was exceedingly wonderful to behold. Suka pierced through those summits, for they were unable to stop his onward course. At this a loud noise arose in heaven, made by the denizens thereof. The Gandharvas and the Rishis also and others that dwelt in that mountain being rent in twain and Suka passing through it. Indeed, O Bharata, a loud noise was heard everywhere at that moment, consisting of the words--Excellent, Excellent!--He was adored by the Gandharvas and the Rishis, by crowds of Yakshas and Rakshasas, and all tribes of the Vidyadharas. The entire firmament became strewn with celestial flowers showered from heaven at that moment when Suka thus pierced through that impenetrable barrier, O monarch! The righteous-souled Suka then beheld from a high region the celestial stream Mandakini of great beauty, running below through a region adorned by many flowering groves and woods. In these waters many beautiful Apsaras were sporting. Beholding Suka who was bodiless, those unclad aerial beings felt shame. Learning that Suka had undertaken his great journey, his sire Vyasa, filled with affection, followed him behind along the same aerial path. Meanwhile Suka, proceeding through that region of the firmament that is above the region of the wind displayed his Yoga-prowess and identified himself with Brahma.[1788] Adopting the subtile path of high Yoga, Vyasa of austere penances, reached within the twinkling of the eye that spot whence Suka first undertook his journey. Proceeding along the same way, Vyasa beheld the mountain summit rent in twain and through which Suka has passed. Encountering the Island-born ascetic, the Rishis began to represent to him the achievements of his son. Vyasa, however, began to indulge in lamentations, loudly calling upon his son by name and causing the three worlds to resound with the noise he made. Meanwhile, the righteous-souled Suka, who had entered the elements, had become their soul and acquired omnipresence, answered his sire by uttering the monosyllable Bho in the form of an echo. At this, the entire universe of mobile and immobile creatures, uttering the monosyllable Bho, echoed the answer of Suka. From that time to this, when sounds are uttered in mountain-caves or on mountain-breasts, the latter, as if in answer to Suka still echo them (with the monosyllable Bho). Having cast off all the attributes of sound, etc., and showing his Yoga-prowess in the manner of his disappearance, Suka in this way attained to the highest station. Beholding that glory and puissance of his son of immeasurable energy, Vyasa sat down on the breast of the mountain and began to think of his son with grief. The Apsaras were sporting on the banks of the celestial stream Mandakini, seeing the Rishi seated there, became all agitated with grave shame and lost heart. Some of them, to hide their nudity, plunged into the stream, and some entered the groves hard by, and some quickly took up their clothes, at beholding the Rishi. (None of them had betrayed any signs of agitation at sight of his son). The Rishi, beholding these movements, understood that his son had been emancipated from all attachments, but that he himself was not freed therefrom. At this he became filled with both joy and shame. As Vyasa was seated there, the auspicious god Siva, armed with Pinaka, surrounded on all sides by many deities and Gandharvas and adored by all the great Rishis came thither. Consoling the Island-born Rishi who was burning with grief on account of his son, Mahadeva said these words unto him.--'Thou hadst formerly solicited from me a son possessed of the energy of Fire, of Water, of Wind, and of Space. Procreated by thy penances, the son that was born unto thee was of that very kind. Proceeding from my grace, he was pure and full of Brahma-energy. He has attained to the highest end--an end which none can win that has not completely subjugated his senses, nor can be won by even any of the deities. Why then, O regenerate Rishi, dost thou grieve for that son? As long as the hills will last, as long as the ocean will last, so long will the fame of thy son endure undiminished! Through my grace, O great Rishi thou shalt behold in this world a shadowy form resembling thy son, moving by the side and never deserting thee for a single moment!'--Thus favoured by the illustrious Rudra himself, O Bharata, the Rishi beheld a shadow of his son by his side. He returned from that place, filled with joy at this. I have now told thee, O chief of Bharata's race, everything regarding the birth and life of Suka about which thou hadst asked me. The celestial Rishi Narada and the great Yogin Vyasa had repeatedly told all this to me in days of yore when the subject was suggested to him in course of conversation. That person devoted to tranquillity hears this sacred history directly connected with the topic of Emancipation is certain to attain to the highest end."'"[1789] SECTION CCCXXXV "'Yudhishthira said, "If a man be a house-holder or a Brahmacharin, a forest-recluse or a mendicant, and if he desires to achieve success, what deity should he adore? How can he certainly acquire heaven and attain that which is of the highest benefit (viz., Emancipation)? According to what ordinances should he perform the homa in honour of the gods and the Pitris? What is the region to which one goes when one becomes emancipated? What is the essence of Emancipation? What should one do so that one, having attained to heaven, would not have to fall down thence? Who is the deity of the deities? And who is the Pitri of the Pitris? Who is he that is superior to him, who is the deity of the deities and the Pitri of the Pitris? Tell me all this, O Grandsire!" "'Bhishma said, "O thou that art well acquainted with the art of questioning, this question that thou hast asked me, O sinless one, is one that touches a deep mystery. One cannot answer it with the aid of the science of argumentation, even if one were to strive for a hundred years. Without the grace of Narayana, O king, or an accession of high knowledge, this question of thine is incapable of being answered. Connected though this topic be with a deep mystery, I shall yet, O slayer of foes, expound it to thee![1790] In this connection is cited the old history of the discourse between Narada and the Rishi Narayana. I heard it from my sire that in the Krita age, O monarch, during the epoch of the Self-born Manu, the eternal Narayana, the Soul of the universe, took birth as the son of Dharma in a quadruple form, viz., as Nara, Narayana, Hari, and the Self-create Krishna.[1791] Amongst them all, Narayana and Nara underwent the severest austerities by repairing to the Himalayan retreat known by the name of Vadari, by riding on their golden ears. Each of those cars was furnished with eight wheels, and made up of the five primal elements, and looked exceedingly beautiful.[1792] Those original regents of the world who had taken birth as the sons of Dharma, became exceedingly emaciated in person in consequence of the austerities they had undergone. Indeed, for those austerities and for their energy, the very deities were unable to look at them. Only that deity with whom they were propitiated could behold them. Without doubt, with his heart devoted to them, and impelled by a longing desire to behold them, Narada dropped down on Gandhamadana from a summit of the high mountains of Meru and wandered over all the world. Possessed of great speed, he at last repaired to that spot whereon was situated the retreat of Vadari. Impelled by curiosity he entered that retreat at the hour of Nara's and Narayana's performing their daily rites. He said unto himself.--'This is truly the retreat of that Being in whom are established all the worlds including the deities, the Asuras, the Gandharvas, the Kinnaras, and the great snakes! There was only one form of this great Being before. That form took birth in four shapes for the expansion of the race of Dharma which have been reared by that deity. How wonderful it is that Dharma has thus been honoured by these four great deities viz., Nara, Narayana, and Hari and Krishna! In this spot Krishna and Hari dwelt formerly. The other two, however, viz., Nara and Narayana, are now dwelling here engaged in penances for the object of enhancing their merit. These two are the highest refuge of the universe. What can be the nature of the daily rites these two perform? They are the sires of all creatures, and the illustrious deities of all beings. Endued with high intelligence, what is that deity whom these two worship? Who are those Pitris whom these two Pitris of all beings adore?'--Thinking of this in his mind, and filled with devotion towards Narayana, Narada suddenly appeared before those two gods. After those two deities had finished their adoration to _their_ deities and the Rishis, they looked at the celestial Rishi arrived at their retreat. The latter was honoured with those eternal rites that are ordained in the scriptures. Beholding that extraordinary conduct of the two original deities in themselves worshipping other deities and Pitris, the illustrious Rishi Narada took his seat there, well pleased with the honours he had received. With a cheerful soul he cast his eyes then on Narayana, and bowing unto Mahadeva he said these words. "'"Narada said, 'In the Vedas and the Puranas, in the Angas and the subsidiary Angas that art sung with reverence, thou art unborn and eternal. Thou art the Creator. Thou art the mother of the universe. Thou art the embodiment of Immortality and thou art the foremost of all things. The Past and the Future, indeed, the entire universe has been established on thee! The four modes of life, O lord, having the domestic for their first, ceaselessly sacrifice to thee that art of diverse forms. Thou art the father and the mother and the eternal preceptor of the universe. We know not who is that deity or that Pitri unto whom thou art sacrificing to-day!' "'"The holy one said, 'This topic is one about which nothing should be said. It is an ancient mystery. Thy devotion to me is very great. Hence, O regenerate one, I shall discourse to thee on it agreeably to the truth. That which is minute, which is inconceivable, unmanifest, immobile, durable, destitute of all connection with the senses and the objects of the senses, that which is dissociated from the (five) elements--that is called the in-dwelling Soul of all existent creatures. That is known by the name of Kshetrajna. Transcending the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas, that is regarded as Purusha in the scriptures. From Him hath followed the unmanifest, O foremost of regenerate ones, possessed of the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. Though really unmanifest, she is called indestructible Prakriti and dwell in all manifest forms. Know that She is the source whence we two have sprung. That all-pervading Soul, which is made up of all existent and non-existent things, is adored by us. Even He is what we worship in all those rites that we perform in honour of the deities and the Pitris. There is no higher deity or Pitri than He. O regenerate one, He should be known as our Soul. It is him that we worship. This course of duties followed by men has, O regenerate one, been promulgated by Him. It is His ordinance that we should duly perform all the rites laid down in respect of the deities and the Pitris. Brahman, Sthanu, Manu, Daksha, Bhrigu, Dharma, Yama, Marichi, Angiras, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, Vasishtha, Parameshthi, Vivaswat, Shoma, he that has been called Karddama, Krodha, Avak, and Krita,--these one and twenty persons, called Prajapatis, were first born. All of them obeyed the eternal law of the Supreme God. Observing all the rites, in detail, that were ordained in honour of the deities and the Pitris, all those foremost of regenerate persons acquired all those objects which they sought. The incorporeal denizens of Heaven itself bow to that Supreme deity and through His grace they attain to those fruits and that end which He ordains for them. This is the settled conclusion of the scriptures that these persons freed from these seven and ten attributes, (viz., the five senses of knowledge, the five senses of action, the five vital breaths, and mind and understanding), who have cast off all acts, and are divested of the five and ten elements which constitute the gross body, are said to be Emancipate. That which the Emancipate attain to as their ultimate end is called by the name of Kshetrajna. He is regarded (in the scriptures) as both possessed of and free from all the attributes. He can be apprehended by Knowledge alone. We two have sprung from Him. Knowing him in that way, we adore that eternal Soul of all things. The Vedas and all the modes of life, though characterised by divergences of opinion, all worship Him with devotion. It is He who, speedily moved to grace, confers on them high ends fraught with felicity. Those persons in this world who, filled with His spirit, become fully and conclusively devoted to Him, attain to ends that are much higher, for they succeed in entering Him and becoming merged in his Self. I have now, O Narada, discoursed to thee on what is high mystery moved by the love I bear to thee for thy devotion to me. Indeed, in consequence of that devotion which thou professest towards me, thou hast succeeded in listening to this my discourse!'"'" SECTION CCCXXXVI "'Bhishma said, "Addressed by Narayana, that foremost of beings, in these words, Narada, the foremost of men, then said these words unto Narayana for the good of the world. "'"Narada said, 'Let that object be accomplished for which thou, O self-born Being, hast taken birth in four forms in the house of Dharma! I shall now repair (to the White Island) for beholding thy original nature. I always worship my seniors. I have never divulged the secrets of others. O lord of the universe, I have studied the Vedas with care. I have undergone austere penances. I have never spoken an untruth. As ordained in the scriptures, I have always protected the four that should be protected.[1793] I have always behaved equally towards friends and foes. Wholly and conclusively devoted to Him, that first of deities, viz., the Supreme Soul, I incessantly adore Him. Having cleansed my soul by these acts of special merit, why shall I not succeed in obtaining a sight of that Infinite Lord of the universe?'--Hearing these words of Parameshthi's son, Narayana, that protector of the scriptures, dismissed him, saying,--'Go, O Narada!'--Before dismissing him, however, the great deity worshipped the celestial Rishi with those rites and ceremonies which have been laid down in the scriptures by himself. Narada also gave due honours to the ancient Rishi Narayana. After such honours had been mutually given and received, the son of Parameshthi departed from that spot. Endued with high Yoga-puissance, Narada suddenly soared into the firmament and reached the summit of the mountains of Meru. Proceeding to a retired spot on that summit, the great ascetic took rest for a short while. He then cast his eyes towards the north western direction and beheld an exceedingly wonderful sight. Towards the north, in the ocean of milk, there is a large island named the White Island. The learned say that its distance from the mountains of Meru is greater than two and thirty thousand Yojanas. The denizens of that realm have no senses. They live without taking food of any kind. Their eyes are winkless. They always emit excellent perfumes. Their complexions are white. They are cleansed from every sin. They blast the eyes of those sinners that look at them. Their bones and bodies are as hard as thunder. They regard honour and dishonour in the same light. They all look as if they are of celestial origin. Besides, all of them are endued, with auspicious marks and great strength. Their heads seem to be like umbrellas. Their voices are deep like that of the clouds. Each of them has four Mushkas.[1794] The soles of their feet are marked by hundreds of lines. They have sixty teeth all of which are white (and large), and eight smaller ones. They have many tongues. With those tongues they seem to lick the very Sun whose face is turned towards every direction. Indeed, they seem to be capable of devouring that deity from whom hath sprung the entire universe, the Vedas, the deities, and the Munis wedded to the attribute of tranquillity." "'Yudhishthira said,--"O grandsire, thou hast said that those beings have no senses, that they do not eat anything for supporting their lives; that their eyes are winkless; and that they always emit excellent perfumes. I ask, how were they born? What also is the superior end to which they attain? O chief of Bharata's race, are the indications of those men that become emancipate the same as those by which the denizens of the White Island are distinguished? Do thou dispel my doubts. The curiosity I feel is very great. Thou art the repository of all histories and discourses. As regards ourselves, we entirely depend on thee for knowledge and instruction!" "'Bhishma continued,--"This narrative, O monarch, which I have heard from my sire, is extensive. I shall now recite it to thee. Indeed, it is regarded as the essence of all narratives. There was, in times past, a king on Earth of the name of Uparichara. He was known to be the friend of Indra, the chief of the celestials. He was devoted to Narayana known also by the name of Hari. He was observant of all the duties laid down in the scriptures. Ever devoted to his sire, he was always heedful and ready for action. He won the sovereignty of the world in consequence of a boon he had obtained from Narayana. Following the Sattwata ritual that had been declared in days of yore by Surya himself, king Uparichara used to worship the God of gods (Narayana), and when his worship was over, he used to adore (with what remained) the grandsire of the universe.[1795] After worshipping the Grandsires (Pitris), he worshipped the Brahmanas. He then divided the offerings among those that were dependent on him. With what remained after serving those, the king satisfied his own hunger. Devoted to truth, the monarch abstained from doing any injury to any creature. With his whole soul, the king was devoted to that God of gods, viz., Janarddana, who is without beginning and middle and end, who is the Creator of the universe, and who is without deterioration of any kind. Beholding the devotion to Narayana of that slayer of foes, the divine chief of the celestials himself shared with him his own seat and bed. His kingdom and wealth and spouses and animals were all regarded by him as obtained from Narayana. He, therefore, offered all his possessions to that great deity.[1796] Adopting the Sattwata ritual, king Uparichara, with concentrated soul, used to discharge all his sacrificial acts and observances, both optional and obligatory. In the place of that illustrious king, many foremost Brahmanas, well conversant with the Pancharatra ritual, used to eat before all others the food offered to the god Narayana. As long as that slayer of foes continued to rule his kingdom righteously, no untruth ever escaped his lips and no evil thought ever entered his mind. With his limbs he never committed even the slightest sin. The seven celebrated Rishis, viz., Marichi, Atri, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, and Vasishta of great energy, who came to be known by the name of Chitra-sikhandins, uniting together on the breast of that foremost of mountains, viz., Meru, promulgated an excellent treatise on duties and observances that was consistent with the four Vedas. The contents of that treatise were uttered by seven mouths, and constituted the best compendium of human duties and observances. Known, as already stated, by the name of Chitra-sikhandins, those seven Rishis constitute the seven (Pravriti) elements (of Mahat, Ahankara, etc.) and the Selfborn Manu, who is the eighth in the enumeration, constituted original Prakriti. These eight uphold the universe, and it was these eight that promulgated the treatise adverted to. With their senses and minds under complete control, and ever devoted to Yoga, these eight ascetics, with concentrated souls, are fully conversant with the Past, the Present and the Future, and are devoted to the religion of Truth.--This is good this is Brahma,--this is highly beneficial,--reflecting in their minds in this way, those Rishis created the worlds, and the science of morality and duty that governs those worlds. In that treatise the authors discoursed on Religion and Wealth and Pleasure, and subsequently on Emancipation also. They also laid down in it the various restrictions and limitations intended for the Earth as also for Heaven. They composed that treatise after having worshipped with penances the puissant and illustrious Narayana called also Hari, for a thousand celestial years, in company with many other Rishis. Gratified with their penances and worship, Narayana commanded the goddess of speech, viz. Saraswati, to enter into the person of those Rishis. The goddess, for the good of the worlds did what she was ordered. In consequence of the entrance of the goddess of speech into their persons, those Rishis, well conversant with penances, succeeded in composing that foremost of treatises in respect of vocables, import, and reason.[1797] Having composed that treatise sanctified with the syllable Om, the Rishis first of all read it to Narayana who became highly pleased with what he heard. The foremost of all Beings then addressed those Rishis in an incorporeal voice and said,--'Excellent is this treatise that ye have composed consisting of a hundred thousand verses. The duties and observances of all the worlds will flow from this your work! In complete accordance with the four Vedas, viz., the Yajushes, the Samans, and the Atharvans of Angiras, the treatise of yours will be an authority in all the worlds in respect of both Pravritti and Nivritti.[1798] Agreeably to the authority of the scriptures I have created Brahman from the attribute of Grace, Rudra from my Wrath, and yourselves, Ye Brahmanas, as representing the Pravriti-elements (of Mahat, Ahankara, etc.), Surya, and Chandramas, Wind, and Earth, and Water and Fire, all the stars and planets and constellations, all else that is called by the name of creatures, and utterers of Brahma (or the Vedas), they all live and act in their respective spheres and are all respected as authorities. Even this treatise that ye have composed shall be regarded by all persons in the same light, viz., as a work of the highest authority. This is my command. Guided by this treatise, the Self-born Manu himself will declare to the world its course of duties and observances. When Usanas and Vrihaspati will arise, they also will promulgate their respective treatises on morality and religion, guided by and quoting from this your treatise.[1799] After the publication of this treatise by the Self-born Manu and of that by Usanas, and after the publication of the treatise also by Vrihaspati, this science composed by you will be acquired by king Vasu (otherwise known by the name of Uparichara). Indeed ye foremost of regenerate ones, that king will acquire this knowledge of this work from Vrihaspati. That King, filled with all good thoughts, will become deeply devoted to me. Guided by this treatise, he will accomplish all his religious acts and observances. Verily, this treatise composed by you will be the foremost of all treatise on morality and religion. Possessed of the excellence, this treatise is fraught with instructions for acquiring both Wealth and Religious merit, and is full of mysteries. In consequence of the promulgation of this treatise of yours, ye will be progenitors of an extensive race. King Uparichara also will become endued with greatness and prosperity. Upon the death, however, of that king, this eternal treatise will disappear from the world. I tell you all this.'--Having said these words unto all those Rishis, the invisible Narayana left them and proceeded to some place that was not known to them. Then those sires of the world, those Rishis that bestowed their thoughts on the ends pursued by the world, duly promulgated that treatise which is the eternal origin of all duties and observances. Subsequently, when Vrihaspati was born in Angiras's race in the first or the Krita age, those seven Rishis charged him with the task of promulgating their treatise which was consistent with the Upanishads and the several branches of the Vedas. They themselves who were upholders of the universe and the first promulgators of duties and religious observances, then proceeded to the place they chose, resolved to devote themselves to penances."'" SECTION CCCXXXVII "'Bhishma said, "Then upon the expiration of the great Kalpa, when the celestial Purohita Vrihaspati was born in the race of Angiras, all the deities became very happy. The words, Vrihat, Brahma, and Mahat all bear the same sense.[1800] The celestial Purohita, O king came to be called Vrihaspati because he was endued with all these attributes. King Uparichara, otherwise called Vasu, became a disciple of Vrihaspati and soon became the foremost of his disciples. Admitted as such, he began to study at the feet of his preceptor that science which was composed by the seven Rishis who were (otherwise) known by the name of Chitrasikhandins. With soul cleansed from all sorts of evil by sacrifices and other religious rites, he ruled the Earth like Indra ruling the Heaven. The illustrious king performed a great Horse-sacrifice in which his preceptor Vrihaspati became the Hota. The sons of Prajapati (Brahman) themselves, viz., Ekata, Dwita, and Trita, became the Sadasyas in that sacrifice.[1801] There were others also who became Sadasyas in that sacrifice, viz., Dhanusha, Raivya, Arvavasu, Parvavasu, the Rishi Medhatithi, the great Rishi Tandya, the blessed Rishi Santi, otherwise called Vedasiras, the foremost of Rishis, viz., Kapila, who was the father of Salihotra, the first Kalpa, Tittiri the elder brother of Vaisampayana, Kanwa, and Devahotra, in all forming sixteen. In that great sacrifice, O monarch, all the requisite articles were collected. No animals were slain in it. The king had ordained it so. He was full of compassion. Of pure and liberal mind, he had cast off all desires, and was well-conversant with all rites. The requisites of that sacrifice all consisted of the products of the wilderness. The ancient God of gods (viz., Hari), became highly gratified with the king on account of that sacrifice. Incapable of being seen by any one else, the great God showed himself to his worshipper. Accepting by taking its scent, the share offered to him he himself took up the Purodasa.[1802] The great God took up the offerings without being seen by any one. At this, Vrihaspati became angry. Taking up the ladle he hurled it with violence at the sky, and began to shed tears in wrath. Addressing king Uparichara he said,--'Here, I place this as Narayana's share of the sacrificial offerings. Without doubt, he shall take it before my eyes.'" "'Yudhishthira said, "In the great sacrifice of Uparichara, all the deities appeared in their respective forms for taking their shares of the sacrificial offerings and were seen by all. Why is it that the puissant Hari only acted otherwise by invisibly taking his share?" "'Bhishma continued, "When Vrihaspati gave way to wrath, the great king Vasu and all his Sadasyas sought to pacify the great Rishi. With cool heads, all of them addressed Vrihaspati, saying,--'It behoveth thee not to give way to anger. In this Krita age, this anger to which thou hast given way, should not be the characteristic of any one. The great deity for whom the share of the sacrificial offerings was designed by thee, is himself free from anger. He is incapable of being seen either by ourselves or by thee, O Vrihaspati! Only he can see Him to whom He becomes gracious.'--Then the Rishis Ekata, Dwita, and Trita, who were well conversant with the science of morality and duties compiled by the seven Rishis, addressed that conclave and began the following narration.--'We are the sons of Brahman, begotten by a fiat of his will (and not in the ordinary way). Once on a time we repaired to the north for obtaining what is for our highest good. Having undergone penances for thousands of years and acquired great ascetic merit, we again stood on only one foot like fixed stakes of wood. The country where we underwent the austerest of penances, lies to the north of the mountains of Meru and on the shores of the Ocean of Milk. The object we had in mind was how to behold the divine Narayana in his own form. Upon the completion of our penances and after we had performed the final ablutions, an incorporeal voice was heard by us, O puissant Vrihaspati, at once deep as that of the clouds and exceedingly sweet and filling the heart with joy. The voice said,--"Ye Brahmanas, well have ye performed these penances with cheerful souls. Devoted unto Narayana, ye seek to know how ye may succeed in beholding that god of great puissance! On the northern shores of the Ocean of Milk there is an island of great splendour called by the name of White Island. The men that inhabit that island have complexions as white as the rays of the Moon and that are devoted to Narayana. Worshippers of that foremost of all Beings, they are devoted to Him with their whole souls. They all enter that eternal and illustrious deity of a thousand rays.[1803] They are divested of senses. They do not subsist on any kind of food. Their eyes are winkless. Their bodies always emit a fragrance. Indeed, the denizens of White Island believe and worship only one God. Go thither, ye ascetics, for there I have revealed myself!"--All of us, hearing these incorporeal words, proceeded by the way indicated to the country described. Eagerly desirous of beholding Him and our hearts full of Him, we arrived at last at that large island called White Island. Arrived there, we could see nothing. Indeed, our vision was blinded by the energy of the great deity and accordingly we could not see Him.[1804] At this, the idea, due to the grace of the great God Himself, arose in our minds that one that had not undergone sufficient penances could not speedily behold Narayana. Under the influence of this idea we once more set ourselves to the practice of some severe austerities, suited to the time and place, for a hundred years. Upon the completion of our vows, we beheld a number of men of auspicious features. All of them were white and looked like the Moon (in colour) and possessed of every mark of blessedness. Their hands were always joined in prayer. The faces of some were turned towards the North and of some towards the East. They were engaged in silently thinking on Brahma.[1805] The Yapa performed by those high-souled persons was a mental yapa (and did not consist of the actual recitation of any mantras in words). In consequence of their hearts having been entirely set upon Him, Hari became highly pleased with them. The effulgence that was emitted by each of those men resembled, O foremost of ascetics, the splendours which Surya assumes when the time comes for the dissolution of the universe. Indeed, we thought that Island was the home of all Energy. All the inhabitants were perfectly equal in energy. There was no superiority or inferiority there among them.[1806] We then suddenly beheld once more a light arise, that seemed to be the concentrated effulgence of a thousand Suns, O Vrihaspati. The inhabitants, assembling together, ran towards that light, with hands joined in reverential attitude, full of joy, and uttering the one word Namas (we bow thee!). We then heard a very loud noise uttered by all of them together. It seemed that those men were employed in offering a sacrifice to the great God. As regards ourselves, we were suddenly deprived of our senses by his Energy. Deprived of vision and strength and all the senses, we could not see or feel anything.[1807] We only heard a loud volume of sound uttered by the assembled inhabitants. It said,--"Victory to thee, O thou of eyes like lotus-petals! Salutations to thee, O Creator of the universe! Salutations to thee, O Hrishikesa, O foremost of Beings, O thou that art the First-born!" Even this was the sound we heard, uttered distinctly and agreeably to the rules of orthoepy.[1808] Meanwhile, a breeze, fragrant and pure, blew, bearing perfumes of celestial flowers, and of certain herbs and plants that were of use on the occasion. Those men, endued with great devotion, possessed of hearts full of reverence, conversant with the ordinances laid down in the Pancharatra, were then worshipping the great deity with mind, word, and deed.[1809] Without doubt, Hari appeared in that place whence the sound we heard arose. As regards ourselves, stupefied by His illusion, we could not see him. After the breeze had ceased and the sacrifice had been over, our hearts became agitated with anxiety, O foremost one of Angira's race. As we stood among those thousands of men all of whom were of pure descent, no one honoured us with a glance or nod. Those ascetics, all of whom were cheerful and filled with devotion and who were all practising the Brahma-frame of mind, did not show any kind of feeling for us.[1810] We had been exceedingly tired. Our penances had emaciated us. At that time, an incorporeal Being addressed us from the sky and said unto us these words--"These white men, who are divested of all outer senses, are competent to behold (Narayana). Only those foremost of regenerate persons whom these white men honoured with their glances, become competent to behold the great God.[1811] Go hence, ye Munis, to the place whence ye have come. That great Deity is incapable of being ever seen by one that is destitute of devotion. Incapable of being seen in consequence of his dazzling effulgence, that illustrious Deity can be beheld by only those persons that in course of long ages succeed in devoting themselves wholly and solely to Him. Ye foremost of regenerate one, ye have a great duty to perform. After the expiration of this the Krita age, when the Treta age comes in course of the Vivaswat cycle, a great calamity will overtake the worlds. Ye Munis, ye shall then have to become the allies of the deities (for dispelling that calamity)."--Having heard these wonderful words that were sweet as nectar, we soon got back to the place we desired, through the grace of that great Deity. When with the aid of even such austere penances and of offerings devoutly given in sacrifices, we failed to have a sight of the great Deity, how, indeed, can you expect to behold Him so easily? Narayana is a Great Being, He is the Creator of the universe. He is adorned in sacrifices with offerings of clarified butter and other food dedicated with the aid of Vedic mantras. He has no beginning and no end. He is Unmanifest. Both the Deities and the Danavas worship Him.'--Induced by these words spoken by Ekata and approved by his companions, viz., Dwita and Trita, and solicited also by the other Sadasyas, the high-minded Vrihaspati brought that sacrifice to a completion after duly offering the accustomed adorations to the Deities. King Uparichara also, having completed his great sacrifice, began to rule his subjects righteously. At last, casting off his body, he ascended to heaven. After some time, through the curse of the Brahmanas, he fell down from those regions of felicity and sank deep into the bowels of the Earth. King Vasu, O tiger among monarchs, was always devoted to the true religion. Although sunk deep into the bowels of the Earth, his devotion to virtue did not abate. Ever devoted to Narayana, and ever reciting sacred mantras having Narayana for their deity, he once more ascended to heaven through Narayana's grace. Ascending from the bowels of the Earth, king Vasu in consequence of the very highest end that he attained, proceeded to a spot that is even higher than the region of Brahman himself."'"[1812] SECTION CCCXXXVIII "'Yudhishthira said, "When the great king Vasu was so wholly devoted to Narayana, for what reason then did he fall down from heaven and why again had he to sink beneath the surface of the Earth?" "'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited an old narrative, O Bharata, of a discourse between the Rishis and the gods. The gods, once on a time, addressing many foremost of Brahmanas, said unto them that sacrifices should be performed by offering up Ajas as victims. By the word Aja should be understood the goat and no other animal. "'"The Rishis said, 'The Vedic Sruti declares that in sacrifices the offerings should consist of (vegetable) seeds. Seeds are called Ajas. It behoveth you not to slay goats. Ye deities, that cannot be the religion of good and righteous people in which slaughter of animals is laid down. This, again, is the Krita age. How can animals be slaughtered in this epoch of righteousness?'" "'Bhishma continued, "While this discourse was going between the Rishis and the deities, that foremost of kings, viz., Vasu, was seen to come that way. Endued with great prosperity, the king was coming through the welkin, accompanied by his troops and vehicles and animals. Beholding king Vasu coming to that spot through the skies, the Brahmanas addressing the deities, said,--'This one will remove our doubts. He performs sacrifices. He is liberal in making gifts. He always seeks the good of all creatures. How, indeed, will the great Vasu, speak otherwise,'--Having thus spoken unto each other, the deities and the Rishis quickly approached king Vasu and questioned him, saying,--'O king, with what should one perform sacrifices? Should one sacrifice with the goat or with herbs and plants? Do thou dispel this doubt of ours. We constitute thee our judge in this matter.'--Thus addressed by them, Vasu joined his hands in humility and said unto them.--'Tell me truly, ye foremost of Brahmanas, what opinion is entertained by you in this matter?' "'"The Rishis said, 'The opinion entertained by us, O king, is that sacrifices should be performed with grain. The deities, however, maintain that sacrifices should be performed with animals. Do thou judge between us and tell us which of these opinions is correct.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Learning what the opinion was that was entertained by the deities, Vasu, moved by partiality for them, said that sacrifices should be performed with animals. At this answer, all the Rishis, endued with the splendour of the Sun, became very angry. Addressing Vasu who was seated on his car and who had (wrongly) taken up the side of the deities, they said unto him,--'Since thou hast (wrongly) taken up the side of the deities, do thou fall down from heaven. From this day, O monarch, thou shalt lose the power of journeying through the sky. Through our curse, thou shalt sink deep below the surface of the Earth.' After the Rishis had said these words, king Uparichara immediately fell down, O monarch, and went down a hole in Earth. At the command, however, of Narayana, Vasu's memory did not leave him. To the good fortune of Vasu, the deities, pained at the curse denounced on him by the Brahmanas, began to think anxiously as to how that curse might be neutralised. They said, 'This high-souled king hath been cursed for our sake. We, denizens of heaven, should unite together for doing what is good to him in return for that which he has done to us.' Having quickly settled this in their minds with the aid of reflection, the deities proceeded to the spot where the king Uparichara was. Arrived at his presence, they addressed him, saying, 'Thou art devoted to the great God of the Brahmanas (viz., Narayana). That great Lord of both the deities and the Asuras, gratified with thee, will rescue thee from the curse that has been denounced upon thee. It is proper, however, that the high-souled Brahmanas should be honoured. Verily, O best of kings, their penances should fructify.[1813] Indeed, thou hast already fallen down from the sky on the Earth. We desire, however, O best of kings, to show thee a favour in one respect. As long as thou, O sinless one, shalt dwell in his hole, so long shalt thou receive (due sustenance, through our boon)! Those streaks of clarified butter which Brahmans with concentrated minds pour in sacrifices in accompaniment with sacred mantras, and which are called by the name of Vasudhara, shall be thine, through our care for thee! Indeed weakness or distress shall not touch thee.[1814] While dwelling, O king of kings, in the hole of the Earth, neither hunger nor thirst shall afflict thee for thou shalt drink those streaks of clarified butter called Vasudhara. Thy energy also shall continue unabated. In consequence also of this our boon that we grant thee, the God of gods, viz., Narayana will be gratified with thee, and He will bear thee hence to the region of Brahman!'--Having granted these boons unto the king, the denizens of heaven, as also all those Rishis possessed of wealth of penances, returned each to his respective place. Then Vasu, O Bharata, began to adore the Creator of the universe and to recite in silence those sacred mantras that had come out of Narayana's mouth in days of yore.[1815] Although dwelling in a pit of the Earth, the king still worshipped Hari, the Lord of all the deities, in the well-known five sacrifices that are performed five times every day, O slayer of foes! In consequence of these adorations, Narayana, otherwise called Hari, became highly pleased with him who thus showed himself to be entirely devoted to Him, by wholly relying upon Him as his sole refuge, and who had completely subjugated his senses. The illustrious Vishnu, that giver of boons, then addressing Garuda of great speed, that foremost of birds, who waited upon Him as his servant, said these desirable words:--'O foremost of birds, O thou that art highly blessed, listen to what I say! There is a great king of the name of Vasu who is of righteous soul and rigid vows. Through the wrath of the Brahmanas, he has fallen into a pit of the Earth. The Brahmans, have been sufficiently honoured (for their curse has fructified). Do thou go to that king now. At my command, O Garuda, go to that foremost of kings, viz., Uparichara who is now dwelling in a hole of the Earth and incapable of any longer sailing through the sky, and bring him up without delay into the welkin.' Hearing these words of Vishnu, Garuda, spreading his wings and rushing with the speed of the wind, entered that hole in the Earth in which king Vasu was living. Suddenly taking the king up, the son of Vinata soared into the sky and there released the king from his beaks. At that moment, king Uparichara once more acquired his celestial form and re-entered the region of Brahman. It was in this way, O son of Kunti, that great king first fell down through the curse of the Brahmanas for a fault of speech, and once more ascended to heaven at the command of the great God (Vishnu). Only the puissant Lord Hari, that foremost of all Beings, was devoutly worshipped by him. It was for this devout worship that the king succeeded very soon in escaping from the curse denounced upon him by the Brahmanas and in regaining the felicitous regions of Brahman." "'Bhishma continued, "I have thus told thee everything respecting the origin of the spiritual sons of Brahman. Listen to me with undivided attention, for I shall now narrate to thee how the celestial Rishi Narada proceeded in days of yore to White Island."'" SECTION CCCXXXIX "'Bhishma said, "Arrived at the spacious realm called White Island, the illustrious Rishi beheld those same white men possessed of lunar splendour (of whom I have already spoken to thee). Worshipped by them, the Rishi worshipped them in return by bending his head and reverencing them in his mind.[1816] Desirous of beholding Narayana, he began to reside there, attentively engaged in the silent recitation of mantras, sacred to him, and observant of vows of the most difficult kind. With concentrated mind, the regenerate Rishi, with arms upraised, stood in Yoga, and then sang the following hymn unto the Lord of the universe, Him, viz., who is at once the soul of attributes and divested of all attributes. "'"Narada said, 'Salutations to thee, O God of gods, O thou that art freed from all acts! Thou art he who is divested of all attributes, who is the Witness of all the worlds, who is called Kshetrajna, who is the foremost of all Beings, who is Infinite, who is called Purusha, who is the great Purusha, who is the foremost of all Purushas, who is the soul of the three attributes, who is called the Foremost, who is Amrita (nectar), who is called Immortal, who is called Ananta (Sesha), who is Space,[1817] who is without beginning, who is both Manifest and Unmanifest as existent and not-existent things, who is said to have his home in Truth,[1818] who is the first of gods (Narayana), who is the giver of wealth (or of the fruits of acts), identified with Daksha and other Lords of the Creation, who is the Aswattha and other big trees, who is the four-headed Brahman, who is the Lord of all created Beings, who is the Lord of Speech,[1819] who is the Lord of the universe (or Indra), who is the all-pervading Soul, who is the Sun, who is the breath called Prana, who is the Lord of the waters (viz., Varuna), who is identifiable with the Emperor or the King, who is identifiable with the Regents of the several points of the compass, who is the refuge of the universe when it is dissolved in the final destruction,[1820] who is Undisplayed (unrevealed), who is the giver of the Vedas unto Brahman, who is identifiable with the sacrifices and Vedic studies achieved by Brahmanas with the aid of their bodies, who is identifiable with the four principal orders of the deities, who is every one of those four orders, who is possessed of effulgence, who is possessed of great effulgence, who is he unto whom the seven largest offerings in sacrifices are presented with the Gayatri and other sacred mantras, who is Yama, who is Chitragupta and the other attendants of Yama, who is called the wife of Yama, who is that order of the deities called Tushita, who is that other order called Mahatushita, who is the universal grinder (Death), who is desire and all diseases that have been created for aiding the advent of Death, who is health and freedom from disease, who is subject to desire and passions, who is free from the influence of desire and passions, who is Infinite as exhibited in species and forms, who is he that is chastised, who is he that is the chastiser, who is all the lesser sacrifices (like Agnihotra and others), who is all the larger sacrifices (like those called Brahma, etc.), who is all the Ritwijas, who is the origin of all sacrifices (viz., the Vedas), who is fire, who is the very heart of all sacrifices (viz., the mantras and hymns uttered in them), who is he that is hymned in sacrifices, who takes those shares of the sacrificial offerings that are presented to him, who is the embodiment of the five sacrifices, who is the maker of the five sections or divisions of time (viz., day, night, month, season and year), who is incapable of being understood except by those scriptures that are called Pancharatra, who never shrinks from anything, who is unvanquished, who is only Mind (without a physical frame), who is known only by name, who is the Lord of Brahman himself, who has completed all the vows and observances mentioned in the Vedas,[1821] who is the Hansa (bearer of the triple stick), who is the Parama-hansa (divested of stick), who is the foremost of all sacrifices, who is Sankhya-yoga, who is the embodiment of the Sankhya philosophy, who dwells in all Jivas, who lives in every heart, who resides in every sense, who floats on the ocean-water, who lives in the Vedas, who lies on the lotus (the image of the egg whence the universe has sprung), who is the Lord of the universe, and whose troops go everywhere for protecting his worshippers. Thou takest birth as all creatures. Thou art the origin of the universe (of all creatures). Thy mouth is fire. Thou art that fire which courses through the waters of the ocean, issuing out all the while from an Equine head. Thou art the sanctified butter that is poured into the sacrificial fire. Thou art the car-driver (fire or heat that impels the body and causes it to live and grow). Thou art Vashat. Thou art the syllable Om. Thou art Penances. Thou art Mind. Thou art Chandramas. Thou sanctifiest the sacrificial butter. Thou art the Sun. Thou art the Dikgajas (Elephants) that are sanctioned in the four cardinal points of the compass. Thou illuminest the cardinal points of the compass. Thou illuminest the subsidiary points also. Thou art the Equine head. Thou art the first three mantras of the Rig Veda. Thou art the protector of the several orders of men (viz., Brahmanas, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras). Thou art the five fires (beginning with Garhapatya). Thou art He who has thrice ignited the sacrificial fire called Nachi.[1822] Thou art the refuge of the six limbs (viz., the Vedas).[1823] Thou art the foremost of those Brahmanas that are employed in singing the Samans in sacrifices and other religious rites. Thou art Pragjyotish, and thou art he who sings the first Saman.[1824] Thou art the observer of those vows that depend upon the Vedas and that are observed by singers of Samanas. Thou art the embodiment of the Upanishad, called by the name of Atharvasiras. Thou art he who is the topic of the five foremost of scriptures (viz., those that appertain to the worship of Surya, of Sakti, of Ganesa, of Siva, and of Vishnu). Thou art called the preceptor that subsists only on the froth of water. Thou art a Valikhilya.[1825] Thou art the embodiment of him who has not fallen away from Yoga. Thou art the embodiment of correctness of judgment of reasoning. Thou art the beginning of the Yugas, thou art the middle of the Yugas and thou art their end. Thou art Akhandala (Indra). Thou art the two Rishis Prachina-garbha and Kausika. Thou art Purusthuta, thou art Puruhuta, thou art the artificer of the universe. Thou hast the universe for thy form. Thy motions are infinite. Thy bodies are infinite; thou art without end and without beginning, and without middle. Thy middle is unmanifest. Thy end is unmanifest. Thou hast vows for thy abode. Thou residest in the ocean. Thou hast thy home in Fame, in Penances, in Self-restraint, in Prosperity, in Knowledge, in grand Achievements, and in Everything belonging to the universe. Thou art Vasudeva. Thou art the grantor of every wish. Thou art Hanuman that bore Rama on his shoulders. Thou art the great Horse-sacrifice. Thou takest thy share of offerings made in great sacrifices.[1826] Thou art the grantor of boons, of happiness, of wealth. Thou art devoted to Hari. Thou art Restraint of the senses. Thou art vows and observances. Thou art mortifications, thou art severe mortifications, thou art very severe mortifications.[1827] Thou art he who observes vows and religious and other pious rites. Thou art freed from all errors. Thou art a Brahmacharin. Thou tookest birth in the womb of Prisni. Thou art he from whom have flowered all Vedic rites and acts. Thou art unborn. Thou pervadest all things. Thy eyes are on all things. Thou must not be apprehended by the senses. Thou art not subject to deterioration. Thou art possessed of great puissance. Thy body is inconceivably vast. Thou art holy, thou art beyond the ken of logic or argument. Thou art unknowable. Thou art the foremost of Causes. Thou art the Creator of all creatures and thou art their destroyer. Thou art the possessor of vast powers of illusion. Thou art called Chittrasikhandin. Thou art the giver of boons. Thou art the taker of thy share of the sacrificial offerings. Thou hast obtained the merit of all sacrifices. Thou art he who has been freed from all doubts. Thou art omnipresent. Thou art of the form of a Brahmana. Thou art fond of Brahmanas. Thou hast the universe for thy form. Thy form is very vast. Thou art the greatest friend. Thou art kind to all thy worshippers. Thou art the great deity of the Brahmanas. I am thy devoted disciple. I am desirous of beholding thee. Salutations to thee that art of the form of Emancipation."'" SECTION CCCXL "'Bhishma said, "Thus hymned with names that were not known to others, the Divine Narayana having the universe for his form showed himself to the ascetic Narada. His form was somewhat purer than the moon and differed from the moon in some respects. He somewhat resembled a blazing fire in complexion. The puissant Lord was somewhat of the form of Vishti.[1828] He resembled in some respects the feathers of the parrot, and in some a mass of pure crystal. He resembled in some respects a hill of antimony and in some a mass of pure gold. His complexion somewhat resembled the coral when first formed, and was somewhat white. In some respects that complexion resembled the hue of gold and in some that of the lapis lazuli. In some respects it resembled the hue of the blue lapis lazuli and in some that of sapphire. In some respects it resembled the hue of the peacock's neck, and in some that of a string of pearls. Bearing these diverse kinds of hues on his person, the eternal Deity appeared before Narada. He had a thousand eyes and was possessed of great beauty. He had a hundred heads and a hundred feet. He had a thousand stomachs and a thousand arms. He seemed to be still inconceivable to the mind. With one of his mouths he uttered the syllable Om and then the Gayatri following Om. With mind under complete control, the great Deity, called by the names of Hari and Narayana, by his other mouths, multitudinous in number, uttered many mantras from the four Vedas which are known by the name of Aranyaka. The Lord of all the deities, the great God who is adorned in sacrifices, held in his hands a sacrificial altar, a Kamandalu, few white gems, a pair of sandal, a bundle of Kusa blades, a deer-skin, a toothstick, and a little blazing fire.[1829] With cheerful soul, that foremost of regenerate persons, viz., Narada of restraining speech, bowed unto the great God and adored Him. Unto him whose head was still bent low in veneration, the first of all the deities, who is free from deterioration, said the following words. "'"The Holy one said, 'The great Rishis, Ekata, Dwita, and Trita, came to this realm from desire of obtaining a sight of me. They, however, were unable to have the fruition of their wishes. Nor can any one have a sight of me save those persons that are devoted to me with their whole hearts. As regards thee, thou art verily the foremost of all persons devoted to me with all their souls. These are my bodies, the best ones that I assume. These were born, O regenerate one, in the house of Dharma. Do thou worship them always, and do thou perform those rites that are laid down in the ordinances with respect to that worship. O Brahmana, do thou ask of me the boons thou desirest. I am gratified with thee to-day, and I appear unto thee now in my universal form as freed from decay and deterioration.' "'"Narada said, 'Since, O holy one, I have today succeeded in obtaining a sight of thee. I regard that I have won without any delay the fruits of my penances, O God, of my self-restraint, and of all the vows and observances that I have gone through. This, indeed, is the highest boon thou hast granted me for thou hast shown thyself to me today. O Eternal Lord, Thou, O holy one, hast the universe for thy eye. Thou art the Lion. Thy form is identifiable with everything. Possessed of puissance, thou, O Lord, art vast and infinite.'" "'Bhishma continued, "Having thus shown Himself unto Narada, the son of Parameshthi, the great God addressed that ascetic and said,--'Go hence, O Narada, and do not delay! These worshippers of mine, possessed of lunar complexions, are divested of all senses and do not subsist upon any kind of food. They are, again, all Emancipate; with minds wholly concentrated upon Me, people should think of Me. Such worshippers will never meet with any impediments. These men are all crowned with ascetic success and are highly blessed. In ancient times they became entirely devoted to me. They have been freed from the attributes of Rajas and Tamas. Without doubt, they are competent to enter me and become merged into my Self.--He that cannot be seen with the eye, touched with the sense of touch, smelt with the sense of scent, and that is beyond the ken of the sense of taste. He whom the three attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas do not touch, who pervades all things and is the one Witness of the universe, and who is described as the Soul of the entire universe; He who is not destroyed upon the destruction of the bodies of all created things, who is unborn and unchangeable and eternal, who is freed from all attributes, who is indivisible and entire; He who transcends the twice twelve topics of enquiry and is regarded the Twenty-fifth, who is called by the name of Purusha, who is inactive, and who is said to be apprehended by Knowledge alone, He into whom the foremost of the regenerate persons enter and become emancipate. He who is the eternal Supreme Soul and is known by the name of Vasudeva. Behold, O Narada, the greatness and puissance of God. He is never touched by acts good or bad. Sattwa, Rajas and Tamas, are said to be the three (original) attributes. These dwell and act in the bodies of all creatures. The Jiva-soul, called Kshetrajna, enjoys and endorses the action of these three attributes. He, however, transcends them and they cannot touch Him. Freed from these attributes, He is again their enjoyer and endorser. Having created them Himself, He is above them all. O celestial Rishi, the Earth, which is the refuge of the universe, disappears[1830] (when the hour for universal dissolution comes) into water, Water disappears into Light, and Light into Wind, Wind disappears into Space, and Space into Mind. Mind is a great creature, and it disappears into Unmanifest Prakriti. Unmanifest Prakriti, O Brahmana, disappears into inactive Purusha. There is nothing higher than Purusha which is Eternal. There is nothing among mobile and immobile things in the universe that is immutable, except Vasudeva, the eternal Purusha. Endued with great puissance, Vasudeva is the Soul of all creatures. Earth, Wind, Space, Water, and Light forming the fifth, the primal elements of great puissance. Mingling together they form what is called the body. Possessed of subtile prowess and invisible to all eyes, O Brahmana, the puissant Vasudeva then enters that combination of the five primal elements, called body. Such entrance is called his birth, and taking birth. He causes the body to move about and act. Without a combination of the five primal elements, no body can ever be formed. Without, again, the entrance of Jiva into the body, the mind dwelling within it cannot cause it to move and act. He that enters the body is possessed of great puissance and is called Jiva. He is known also by other names, viz., Sesha and Sankarshana. He that takes his rise, from that Sankarshana, by his own acts, Sanatkumara, and in whom all creatures merge when the universal dissolution comes, is the Mind of all creatures and is called by the name of Pradyumna. From Him (i.e., Pradyumna), arises He who is the Creator, and who is both Cause and Effect. From this last, everything, viz., the mobile and immobile universe, takes its rise. This one is called Aniruddha. He is otherwise called Isana, and He is manifest in all acts.[1831] That illustrious one, viz., Vasudeva, who is called Kshetrajna, and who is freed from attributes, should, O king of kings, be known as the puissant Sankarshana, when he takes birth as Jiva.[1832] From Sankarshana arises Pradyumna who is called He that is born as Mind. From Pradyumna is He who is Aniruddha. He is Consciousness, He is Iswara (Supreme Lord). It is from me, that the entire mobile and immobile universe springs. It is from me, O Narada, that the indestructible and destructible, the existent and the non-existent, flow. They that are devoted to me enter into me and become emancipate. I am known as Purusha. Without acts, I am the Twenty-fifth. Transcending attributes, I am entire and indivisible. I am above all pairs of opposite attributes and freed from all attachments. This, O Narada, thou wilt fail to understand. Thou beholdest me as endued with a form. In a moment, if the wish arises, I can dissolve this form. I am the Supreme Lord and the Preceptor of the universe. That which thou beholdest of me, O Narada, is only an illusion of mine. I now seem to be endued with the attributes of all created things. Thou art not competent to know me. I have disclosed to thee duly my quadruple form. I am, O Narada, the Doer, I am Cause, and I am Effect. I am the sum-total of all living creatures. All living creatures have their refuge in me. Let not the thought be thine that thou hast seen the Kshetrajna. I pervade all things, O Brahmana, and am the Jiva-Soul of all creatures. When the bodies of all creatures, however, are destroyed, I am not destroyed. Those highly blessed men who, having won ascetic success, become wholly devoted to me, become freed from the attributes of both Rajas and Tamas and succeed, on that account, in entering me, O great ascetic. He who is called Hiranyagarbha, who is the beginning of the world, who has four faces, who cannot be understood with the aid of Nirukta, who is otherwise called Brahman, who is an eternal deity, is employed in attending to many of my concerns. The deity Rudra, born of my wrath, is sprung from my forehead. Behold, the eleven Rudras are swelling (with might) on the right side of my body. The twelve Adityas are on the left side of my body. Behold, the eight Vasus, those foremost of deities, are in my front, and see, Nasatya and Dasra, those two celestial physicians (Aswini Kumars), are in my rear. Behold also in my body all the Prajapatis and behold the seven Rishis also. Behold also the Vedas, and all the Sacrifices numbering by hundreds, the Amrita (nectar), and all the (medicinal) herbs and plants, and Penances, and vows and observances of diverse kinds. Behold also in me the eight attributes indicative of puissance, viz., those particularly called the attributes of Lordship, all dwelling together in my body in their united and embodied form. Behold also Sree and Lakshmi, and Kirti, and the Earth with her hump as also the goddess, Saraswati, that mother of the Vedas, dwelling in me. Behold, O Narada, Dhruva, that foremost of luminaries ranging the firmament, as also all the Oceans those receptacles of water, and lakes, and rivers, dwelling in me. Behold also, O best of men, the four foremost ones amongst the Pitris in their embodied forms, as also, the three attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas) which are formless dwelling in me. The acts done in honour of the Pitris are superior (in point of merit) to those done in honour of the deities. I am the Pitri of both the deities and the Pitris, and am existing from the beginning (that is, from a time when they were not). Becoming the Equine-head I rove through the Western and the Northern ocean and drink sacrificial libations duly poured with mantras and solid sacrificial food offered with reverence and devotion. In days of yore I created Brahman who himself adored me in sacrifices. Gratified with him on that account I granted him many excellent boons. I said unto him that in the beginning of the Kalpa he would be born unto me as my son, and the sovereignty of all the worlds would vest on him, coupled with diverse names being bestowed on diverse objects in consequence of the starting of Ahankara into existence.[1833] I also told him that none would ever violate the limits and boundaries he would assign (for the observance of creatures) and, further, that he would be the giver of boons unto persons that would (in sacrifices and by proper acts) solicit him for them. I further assured him that he would be an object of adoration with all the deities and Asuras, all the Rishis and Pitris, and the diverse creatures forming the creation. I also gave him to understand that I would always manifest myself for accomplishing the business of the deities and that for that matter I would suffer myself to be commanded by him even as a son by his sire.[1834] Granting these and other highly agreeable boons unto Brahman of immeasurable energy in consequence of my being gratified with him I (once more) adopted the course dictated by Nivritti. The highest Nivritti is identical with the annihilation of all duties and acts. Hence, by adopting Nivritti one should conduct oneself in complete felicity. Learned preceptors, with settled convictions deducted from the truths of the Sankhya philosophy, have spoken of me as Kapila endued with the puissance of Knowledge, dwelling within the effulgence of Surya, and concentrated in Yoga.[1835] In Chcchandas (Vedas) I have been repeatedly hymned as the illustrious Hiranyagarbha. In the Yoga scriptures, O Brahmana, I have been spoken of as one who takes a delight in Yoga. I am eternal. Assuming a form that is manifest, I dwell, at present, in the heavens. At the end of a thousand Yugas I shall once more withdraw the universe into myself. Having withdrawn all creatures, mobile and immobile into myself, I shall exist all alone with knowledge only for my companion. After the lapse of ages I shall again create the universe, with the aid of that knowledge. That which is my fourth form creates the indestructible Sesha. That Sesha is called by the name of Sankarshana. Sankarshana creates Pradyumna. From Pradyumna I take birth myself as Aniruddha. I create (myself) repeatedly. From Aniruddha springs Brahman. The latter takes birth from Aniruddha's navel. From Brahman spring all creatures mobile and immobile. Know that Creation springs in this way repeatedly at the beginning of every Kalpa. Creation and destruction succeed each other even as sunrise and sunset in this world. Then, again, as Time, endued with immeasurable energy, forcibly brings back the Sun after his disappearance, after the same manner I shall, assuming the form of boar and putting forth my strength, bring back the Earth with her belt of seas to her own position for the good of all creatures when she becomes submerged in water. I shall then slay the son of Diti, named Hiranyaksha, filled with pride of strength.[1836] Assuming the form then of a Man-lion (Narsingha), I shall, for benefiting the deities, slay Hiranyakasipu the son of Diti, who will be a great destroyer of sacrifices. Unto Virochana (the son of Prahlada) will be born a mighty son of the name of Vali. That great Asura will be unslayable in the whole universe consisting of deities, Asuras and Rakshasas. He will hurl Sakra from the sovereignty of the universe. When after routing the Lord of Sachi, that Asura will take unto himself the sovereignty of the three worlds. I shall take birth in Aditi's womb, by Kasyapa, as the twelfth Aditya. I shall (taking the sovereignty of the three worlds Vali) restore it to Indra of immeasurable splendour, and replace the deities, O Narada, in their respective stations. As regards Vali, that foremost of Danavas, who is to be unslayable by all the deities, I shall cause him to dwell in the nether regions. In the Treta age I shall take birth as Rama in the race of Bhrigu, and exterminate the Kshatriyas who will become proud of their strength and possessions. Towards the close of Treta and the beginning of Dwapara, I shall take birth as Rama, the son of Dasaratha in Iskshaku's royal line. At that time, the two Rishis viz., the two sons of Prajapati, called by the names of Ekata and Dwita, will in consequence of the injury done by them unto their brother Trita, have to take birth as apes, losing the beauty of the human form. Those apes that shall take birth in the race of Ekata and Dwita, shall become endued with great strength and mighty energy and will equal Sakra himself in prowess. All those apes, O regenerate one, will become my allies for accomplishing the business of the deities. I shall then slay the terrible lord of the Rakshasas, that wretch of Pulastya's race, viz., the fierce Ravana, that throne of all the worlds, together with all his children and followers. Towards the close of the Dwapara and beginning of the Kali ages, I shall again appear in the world taking birth in the city of Mathura for the purpose of slaying Kansa. There, after slaying innumerable Danavas that will be thorns in the side of the deities, I shall take up my residence in Kusasthali at the city of Dwaraka. While residing in that city I shall slay the Asura Naraka, the son of the Earth,--him, that is, who will do an injury to Aditi, as also some other Danavas of the names of Muru and Pitha. Slaying also another foremost of Danavas, viz., the lord of Pragjyotisha, I shall transplant his delightful city furnished with diverse kinds of wealth into Dwaraka. I shall then subjugate the two gods worshipped of all the deities, viz., Maheshwara and Mahasena, who will become fond of the Danava Vana and do him diverse good offices and who will exert themselves vigorously for that worshipper of theirs.[1837] Vanquishing next the son of the Danava Vali, viz., Vana, who will be endued with a thousand arms, I shall next destroy all the inhabitants of the Danava city called Saubha.[1838] I shall next, O foremost of Brahmanas, compass the death of Kalayavana, a Danava who will be endued with great might in consequence of his being equipt with the energy of Gargya.[1839] A proud Asura will appear as a king at Girivraja, of the name of Jarasandha, who will quarrel with all the other kings of the world. His death will be compassed by me through some one else guided by my intelligence. I shall next slay Sisupala in the sacrifice of king Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma, which sacrifice all the kings of the world will bring tribute. In some of these feats, only Arjuna, the son of Vasava, will become my assistant. I shall establish Yudhishthira with all his brothers in his ancestral kingdom. People will call me and Arjuna as Narayana and Nara, when, endued with puissance, we two, exerting our strength, shall consume a large number of Kshatriyas, for doing good to the world. Having lightened the burthen of the Earth according to our pleasure, I shall absorb all the principal Sattwatas as also Dwaraka, my favourite city, into my own self, recollecting my all-embracing Knowledge. Endued with four forms, I shall, in this way, achieve many feats of great prowess, and attain at last to those regions of felicity created by me and honoured by all the Brahmanas. Appearing in the forms of a swan, a tortoise, a fish, O foremost of regenerate ones, I shall then display myself as a boar, then as a Man-lion (Nrisingha), then as a dwarf, then as Rama of Bhrigu's race, then as Rama, the son of Dasaratha, then as Krishna the scion of the Sattwata race, and lastly as Kalki. When the auditions in the Vedas disappeared from the world, I brought them back. The Vedas with the auditions in them, were re-created by me in the Krita age. They have once more disappeared or may only be partially heard here and there in the Puranas. Many of my best appearances also in the world have become events of the past. Having achieved the good of the worlds in those forms in which I appeared, they have re-entered into my own Prakriti. Brahman (the Creator) himself never obtained a sight of me in this form of mine, which thou, O Narada, hast seen today in consequence of thy entire devotion to me. I have now said everything, O Brahmana,--unto thee that art devoted to me wholly, I have disclosed to thee my ancient appearances and future ones also, O Best of men, together with all their mysteries.'" "'Bhishma continued, "The holy and illustrious deity, of universal and immutable form, having said these words unto Narada, disappeared there and then. Narada also, endued with great energy, having obtained the high favour that he had solicited, then proceeded with great speed to the retreat called Vadari, for beholding Nara and Narayana. This great Upanishad, perfectly consist with the four Vedas, in harmony with Sankhya-yoga, and called by him by the name of the Pancharatra scriptures, and recited by Narayana himself with his own mouth, was repeated by Narada in the presence of many hearers in the abode of Brahman (his sire) in exactly the same way in which Narayana (while that great god had showed himself unto him) had recited it, and in which he had heard it from his own lips." "'Yudhishthira said, "Was not Brahman, the Creator of all things, acquainted with this wonderful narrative of the glory of Narayana endued with intelligence that he heard it from the lips of Narada? Is the illustrious Grandsire of all the worlds any way different from or inferior to the great Narayana? How then is it that he was unacquainted with the puissance of Narayana of immeasurable energy?" "'Bhishma continued, "Hundreds and thousands of great-Kalpas, hundreds and thousands of Creation and Dissolutions, O king of kings, have been over and have become incidents of the past.[1840] In the beginning of every cycle of Creation, Brahman, endued with great puissance and who creates all things, is remembered (by Narayana). Brahman knows well, O king, that Narayana, that foremost of all gods is very much superior to him. He knows that Narayana is the Supreme Soul, that he is the Supreme Lord, that He is the Creator of Brahman himself. It was only unto that conclave of Rishis, crowned with ascetic success, that came to the abode of Brahman, that Narada recited his narrative which is a very ancient one, and which is perfectly consistent with the Vedas. The deity Surya, having heard that narrative from those Rishis crowned with ascetic success,[1841] repeated it to the six and sixty thousands of Rishis, O king, of cleansed souls, that follow in his train. And Surya, the deity that imparts heat unto all worlds, repeated that narrative unto those Beings also, of cleansed souls, that have been created (by Brahman) for always journeying in the van of Surya.[1842] The high-souled Rishis that follow in Surya's train, O son, repeated that excellent narrative unto the deities assembled on the breast of Meru. That best of ascetics, viz., the regenerate Asita, then having heard the narrative from the deities, repeated it unto the Pitris, O king of kings. I heard it from my sire Santanu, O son, who recited it to me formerly. Myself having heard it from my sire, I have repeated it to thee, O Bharata. Deities and Munis, who have heard this excellent old narrative, which is a Purana--all adore the Supreme Soul. This narrative, belonging to the Rishis and thus handed down from one to another, should not, O king, be communicated by thee to any one that is not a worshipper of Vasudeva. This narrative, O king, is really the essence of the hundreds of other narratives that thou hast heard from me. In days of yore, O monarch, the deities and the Asuras, uniting together, churned the Ocean and raised the Amrita. After the same manner, the Brahmanas, uniting together in days of yore, churned all the scriptures and raised this narrative which resembles nectar. He who frequently reads this narrative, and he who frequently listens to it, with concentrated attention, in a retired spot, and filled with devotion, succeeds in becoming a denizen, possessed of lunar complexion, of the spacious island known by the name of White Island. Without doubt, such a man succeeds in entering into Narayana of a thousand rays. A sick person, by listening to this narrative from the beginning, becomes freed from his illness. The man that simply desires to read or listen to this narrative obtains the fruition of all his wishes. To devoted worshipper, by reading or listening to it, attains to the high end that is reserved for devoted worshippers. Thou also, O monarch, shouldst always adore and worship that foremost of all Beings. He is the father and the mother of all creatures, and He is an object of reverence with the entire universe. Let the illustrious and Eternal God of the Brahmans, viz., Janarddana of high intelligence, be gratified with thee, O Yudhishthira of mighty arms!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having listened to the best of narratives, O Janamejaya, king Yudhishthira the just and all his brothers became devoted to Narayana. And all of them, O Bharata, betaking themselves to the practice of silently meditating upon Narayana (from that day), uttered these words for His glorification, viz., 'Victory to that holy and illustrious Being.' He, again, who is our best of preceptors, viz., the Island-born Krishna, devoted to penances, sung uttering the word Narayana that high mantra which is worthy of being recited in silence. Sojourning through the welkin to the Ocean of Milk which is always the abode of nectar, and worshipping the great God there, he came back to his own hermitage. "'Bhishma continued, "I have now repeated to thee the narrative that was recited by Narada (unto the conclave of Rishis assembled in the abode of Brahman). That narrative has descended from one person to another from very ancient times. I heard it from my sire who formerly repeated it to me."'" Suta continued, "I have now told you all that Vaisampayana recited to Janamejaya. Having listened to Vaisampayana's narration, king Janamejaya properly discharged all his duties according to the ordinances laid down in the scriptures. Ye have all undergo very severe penances and observed many high and excellent vows. Residing in this sacred forest that is known by the name of Naimisha, ye are foremost of all persons conversant with the Vedas. Ye foremost of regenerate ones, ye all have come to this great sacrifice of Saunaka. Do ye all adore and worship that Eternal and Supreme Lord of the universe in excellent sacrifices, properly pouring libations of clarified butter into the fire with the aid of mantras and dedicating the same unto Narayana. As regards myself, I heard this excellent narrative that has descended from generation to generation, from my sire who recited it to me in former times." SECTION CCCXLI Saunaka said, "How is that illustrious god, viz., the puissant Narayana who is fully conversant with the Vedas and their branches, at once the doer and the enjoyer of sacrifices? Endued with forgiveness, he has adopted, again, the religion of Nivritti (abstention). Indeed, it is that holy and puissant one who has himself ordained the duties of Nivritti. Why then has he made many of the deities the takers of shares in sacrifices which, of course, are all due to the disposition of Pravritti? Why has he again created some with a contrary disposition, for they follow the ordinances of the religion of abstention? Do thou, O Suta, dispel this doubt of ours. This doubt seems to be eternal and is connected with a great mystery. Thou hast heard all discourses on Narayana, discourses that are consistent with the (other) scriptures."[1843] Sauti said, "O excellent Saunaka, I shall recite to thee what Vaisampayana, the disciple of the intelligent Vyasa, said when questioned on these very topics by king Janamejaya. Having heard the discourse on the glory of Narayana who is the Soul of all embodied creatures, Janamejaya, endued with great intelligence and wisdom, questioned Vaisampayana on these very subjects. "Janamejaya said, 'The whole world of Beings, with Brahma, the deities, the Asuras and human beings, are seen to be deeply attached to actions which have been said to be productive of prosperity. Emancipation has, O regenerate one, been said by thee to be the highest felicity and to consist of the cessation of existence. They who, being divested of both merit and demerit, become emancipate, succeed, we hear, in entering the great God of a thousand rays. It seems to be, O Brahmana, that the eternal religion of Emancipation is exceedingly difficult of observance. Turning away from it, all the deities have become enjoyers of the libations of clarified butter poured with mantras on sacrificial fires and other offerings presented to them by the same or similar means. Then, again, Brahman, and Rudra, the puissant Sakra the slayer of Vala, Surya, Chandramas (the Lord of the stars), the Wind-god, the Deity of fire, the Deity of the Waters, Infinite Space (as living Being), the Universe too (as a conscious agent), and the rest of the denizens of heaven,--they, it seems, are ignorant of the way of securing annihilation of conscious existence, that is capable of being brought about by self-realisation.[1844] Hence, perhaps, they have not be taken themselves to the path that is certain, indestructible, and immutable. Hence perhaps, turning away from that path they have adopted the religion of Pravritti which leads to conscious existence that is measured by time. This, indeed, is one great fault that attaches to those that are wedded to actions, for all their rewards are terminable. This doubt, O regenerate one, is planted in my heart like a dagger. Remove it out by reciting to me some discourses of old on this topic. Great is my curiosity to listen to thee. For what reason, O regenerate one, have the deities been said to be takers of their respective shares of sacrificial offerings presented to them with the aid of mantras in sacrifices of diverse kinds? Why again are the denizens of heaven adored in sacrifices? And, O best of regenerate persons, to whom do they, that take their shares of offerings in sacrifices performed to their honour, themselves make offerings when they perform great sacrifices?' "Vaisampayana said, 'The question thou has asked me, O ruler of men, relates to a deep mystery. No man that has not undergone penances, and that is not acquainted with the Puranas, can speedily answer it. I shall, however, answer thee by reciting to thee what my preceptor the Island-born Krishna, otherwise called Vyasa, the great Rishi who has classified the Vedas, had said unto us on a former occasion when questioned by us. Sumanta, and Jaimini, and Paila of firm vows, and myself numbering the fourth, and Suka forming the fifth, were disciples of the illustrious Vyasa. We numbering five in all, endued with self-restraint and purity of observances, had completely subjugated wrath and controlled our senses. Our preceptor used to teach us the Vedas, having the Mahabharata for their fifth. Once on a time, while we were engaged in studying the Vedas on the breast of that foremost of mountains, viz., the delightful Meru, inhabited by Siddhas and Charanas, this very doubt arose in our minds that has been expressed by thee today. We, therefore, questioned our preceptor about it. I heard the answer that our preceptor made. I shall now recite that answer to thee, O Bharata. Hearing these words that were addressed to him by his disciples that dispeller of all kinds of darkness represented by ignorance, viz., the blessed Vyasa, the son of Parasara, said these words: "I have undergone very severe, in fact, the austerest of penances. Ye best of men, I am fully conversant with the Past, the Present, and the Future. In consequence of those penances of mine and of the restraint under which I kept my senses while I dwelt on the shores of the Ocean of milk, Narayana became gratified with me. As the result of the great God's gratification, this omniscience with respect to the Past, the Present, and the Future, that was desired by me, arose in my mind. Listen now to me as I discourse to you, in due order, on this great doubt that has disturbed your minds. I have, with the eye of knowledge, beheld all that occurred in the beginning of the Kalpa. He whom both the Sankhyas and those conversant with Yoga call by the name of Paramatma (the Supreme Soul) comes to be regarded as Mahapurusha (the Great Purusha) in consequence of his own acts. From Him springs forth Abyakta (the Unmanifest), whom the learned call Pradhana. From the puissant Unmanifest sprang, for the creation of all the words, the Manifest (Byakta). He is called Aniruddha. That Aniruddha is known among all creatures by the name of the Mahat Atma. It is that Aniruddha who, becoming manifest, created the Grandsire Brahman. Aniruddha is known by another name, viz., Ahankara (consciousness) and is endued with every kind of energy. Earth, Wind, Space, Water, and Light numbering the fifth, these are the five Mahabhutas (elements) that have sprung from Ahankara. Having created the Mahabhutas (five in number), he then created their attributes.[1845] Combining the Mahabhutas, he then created diverse embodied Being. Listen to me as I recount them to you. Marichi, Angiras, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, the high-souled Vasishtha, and the Self-born Manu, these should be known as the eight Prakritis. Upon these rest all the worlds. Then the Grandsire of all the world, viz., Brahman, created, for the fulfilment of all creatures, the Vedas with all their branches, as also the Sacrifices with their limbs. From these eight Prakritis have sprung this vast universe. Then sprang Rudra from the principle of wrath, starting into life, he created ten others that were like him. These eleven Rudras are called by name of Vikara-Purushas. The Rudras, the (eight) Prakritis, and the several celestial Rishis, having started into life, approached Brahman with the object of upholding the universe and its operations. Addressing the Grandsire, they said, 'We have been created, O holy one, by thee, O thou of great puissance. Tell each of us, O Grandsire, the respective jurisdiction we shall be vested with. What particular jurisdictions have been created by thee for supervising the different affairs? We, each, should be endued with what kind of consciousness and shall take charge of which of these? Do thou ordain also unto each of us the measure of strength that we are to have for discharging the duties of our respective jurisdictions.' Thus addressed by them, the great god replied unto them in the following way. "'"Brahman said, 'You have done well, ye deities, in speaking to me of this matter. Blessed be you all! I was thinking of this very subject that has engaged your attention. How should the three worlds be upheld and kept agoing? How should your strength and mine be utilized towards that end? Let all of us, leaving this place, repair to that unmanifest and foremost of Beings who is the witness of the world, for seeking his protection. He will tell us what is for our good.' After this, those deities and Rishis, with Brahman, proceeded to the northern shores of the Ocean of milk, desirous of doing good to the three worlds. Arrived there, they began to practise those austere penances that are declared by Brahman in the Vedas. Those austerest of penances are known by the name of Mahaniyama (the foremost vows and observances). They stood there with mind fixed, immovable as posts of wood, and with eyes upturned and arms raised upwards. For a thousand celestial years they were engaged in those severe penances. At the conclusion of that period they heard these sweet words in harmony with the Vedas and their branches. "'"The blessed and holy one said, 'Ye deities and Rishis possessed of wealth of asceticism, with Brahman in your company, after according you all welcome, I say unto you these words. I know that is in your hearts. Verily, the thoughts that engage you are for the good of the three worlds. I shall increase your energy and strength investing the same with Pravritti (predilection for acts). Ye gods, well have you undergone these penances from desire of adoring me. Ye foremost of Beings, enjoy now the excellent fruits of austerities which ye have gone through. This Brahman is the Lord of all the worlds. Endued with puissance, he is the Grandsire of all creatures. Ye also are foremost of deities. Do ye all, with concentrated minds perform sacrifices for my glory. In the sacrifices which you will perform, do ye always give me a portion of the sacrificial offerings. I shall then, ye lord of creation, assign to each of you your respective jurisdictions and ordain what will be for your good!'" "Vaisampayana continued, 'Hearing these words of that God of gods, all those deities and great Rishis and Brahman became filled with such delight that the hair on their bodies stood on its end. They forthwith made arrangements for a sacrifice in honour of Vishnu according to the ordinances laid down in the Vedas. In that sacrifice, Brahman himself dedicated a portion of the offerings to Vishnu. The deities and the celestial Rishis also, after the manner of Brahman, dedicated similar portions each unto the great God. The portions, thus offered with great reverence unto Vishnu, were, in respect of both the measure and the quality of the articles used, according to the ordinances laid down for the Krita age. The deities and the Rishis and Brahman, in that sacrifice, adored the great God as one endued with the complexion of the Sun, as the foremost of Beings, situate beyond the reach of Tamas, vast, pervading all things, the Supreme Lord of all, the giver of boons, and possessed of puissance. Thus adored by them, the boon-giving and great God, invisible and bodiless, addressed those assembled celestials from heaven and said unto them:--"The offerings dedicated by you in this sacrifice have all reached me. I am gratified with all of you. I shall bestow rewards on you that will however, be fraught with ends whence there will be return.[1846] This shall be your distinctive feature, ye gods, from this day, in consequence of my grace and kindness for you. Performing sacrifices in every Yuga, with large presents, ye will become enjoyers of fruits born of Pravritti. Ye gods, those men also that will perform sacrifices according to the ordinances of the Vedas, will give unto all of you shares of their sacrificial offerings. In the Veda-sutras I make him the receiver (in such sacrifices) of a share similar to that which he has himself offered one in this sacrifice. Created to look after those affairs that appertain to your respective jurisdictions, do ye uphold the worlds according to the measures of your strength as dependent on the shares you receive on those sacrifices. Indeed, drawing strength from those rites and observances that will be current in the several worlds, taking their rise from the fruits of Pravritti, do ye continue to uphold the affairs of those worlds.[1847] Strengthened by the sacrifices that will be performed by men, ye will strengthen me. These are the thoughts that I entertain for you all. It is for this purpose that I have created the Vedas and sacrifices and plants and herbs. Duly served with these by human beings on Earth, the deities will be gratified. Ye foremost of deities, till the end of this Kalpa, I have ordained your creation, making your constitution depend upon the consequence of the religion of Pravritti. Ye foremost of Beings, do ye then, as regards your respective jurisdictions, engage yourselves in seeking the good of the three worlds. Marichi, Angiras, Atri, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, and Vasishtha,--these seven Rishis have been created by a fiat of the will. These will become the foremost of persons conversant with the Vedas. In fact, they will become the preceptors of the Vedas. They will be wedded to the religion of Pravritti, for they have been intended to devote themselves to the act of procreating offspring. This is the eternal path that I disclose of creatures engaged in acts and observances. The puissant Lord who is charged with the creation of all the worlds is called Aniruddha, Sana, Sanatsujata, Sanaka, Sanandana, Sanatkumara, Kapila, and Sanatana numbering the seventh,--these seven Rishis are known as the spiritual sons of Brahman. Their knowledge comes to them of itself (without being dependant on study or exertion). These seven are wedded to the religion of Nivritti. They are the foremost of all persons conversant with Yoga. They are possessed also of deep knowledge of the Sankhya philosophy. They are preceptors of the scriptures on duty and it is they that introduce the duties of the religion of Nivritti and cause them to flow in the worlds. From Unmanifest (Prakriti) has flowed Consciousness and the three great attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas). Transcending Prakriti is he called Kshetrajna. That Kshetrajna is myself. The path of those that are wedded to Karma emerging out of Ahankara is fraught with return. One cannot, by that path, reach the spot whence there is no return. Different creatures have been created with different ends. Some are intended for the path of Pravritti and some for that of Nivritti. According to the path that a creature follows is the reward that he enjoys. This Brahman is the master of all the worlds. Endued with puissance it is he that creates the universe.[1848] He is your mother and father, and he is your grandfather. At my command, he will be the giver of boons unto all creatures. His son Rudra, who has sprung from his brow at his command, will, endued with puissance, uphold all created beings. Go ye to your respective jurisdictions, and seek, according to the ordinances, the good of the worlds. Let all the scriptural acts flow in all the worlds. Let there be no delay in this. Ye foremost of celestials, do ye ordain the acts of all creatures and the ends that they are to attain therefore. Do ye appoint also the limits of the periods for which all creatures are to live. This present epoch that has been set to run is the foremost of all epochs and should be known by the name of Krita. In this Yuga living creatures should not be slain in the sacrifices that may be performed. It should be as I ordain and let it not be otherwise. In this age, ye celestials, Righteousness will flourish in its entirety.[1849] After this age will come the epoch called Treta. The Vedas, in that Yuga, will lose one quarter. Only three of them will exist. In the sacrifice that will be performed in that age, animals, after dedication with the aid of sacred mantras, will be slain. As regards Righteousness again, it will lose one quarter; only three quarters thereof will flourish. On the expiration of the Treta will come the mixed Yuga known by the name of Dwapara. In that Yuga, Righteousness will lose two quarters and only two quarters thereof will flourish. Upon the expiration of Dwapara the Yuga that will set in will be called Kali yuga which will come under the influence of Tisya constellation. Righteousness will lose full three quarters. Only a quarter thereof will exist in all places." "'When the great God said these words, the deities and the celestial Rishis addressed him and said, 'If only a fourth part of Righteousness is to exist in that age in every place, tell us O holy one, whither shall we then go and what shall we do!' "'The blessed and holy one said, "Ye foremost of celestials, ye should, in that age, repair to such places where the Vedas and sacrifices and Penances and Truth and Self-restraint, accompanied by duties fraught with compassion for all creatures, will still continue to flourish. Sin will never be able to touch you at all!" "'Vyasa continued, "Thus commanded by the great God, the deities with all the Rishis bowed their heads unto him and then proceeded to the places they desired. After the Rishis and denizens of heaven had left that place, Brahman remained there, desirous of beholding the great Deity eminent in the form of Aniruddha. The foremost of deities then manifested himself to Brahmana, having assumed a form that had a vast equine head. Bearing a bowl (Kamandalu) and the triple stick, he manifested himself before Brahman, reciting the while the Vedas with all their branches. Beholding the great Deity of immeasurable energy in that form crowned with an equine head, the puissant Brahman, the Creator of all the worlds, moved by the desire of doing good to his Creation, worshipped that boon-giving Lord with a bend of his head, and stood before him with hands joined in reverence. The great Deity embraced Brahman and then told him these words. "'"The holy one said, 'Do thou, O Brahman, duly think of the courses of acts which creatures are to follow. Thou art the great ordainer of all created Beings. Thou art the master and the lord of the universe. Placing this burthen on thee I shall soon be free from anxiety. At such times, however, when it will be difficult for thee to accomplish the purposes of the deities I shall then appear in incarnate forms according to my self-knowledge.' Having said these words, that grand form with the equine head disappeared then and there. Having received his command, Brahman too proceeded quickly to his own region. It is for this, O blessed one, that the eternal Deity, with the lotus in his navel, became the acceptor of the first share offered in sacrifices and hence it is that He came to be called as the eternal upholder of all Sacrifices. He himself adopted the religion of Nivritti, the end after which those creatures strive that are desirous of indestructible fruits. He ordained at the same time the religion of Pravritti for others, with the view to giving variety to the universe. He is the beginning, He is the middle, and He is the end of all created Beings. He is their Creator and He is their one object of meditation. He is the actor and He is the act. Having withdrawn the universe into Himself at the end of the Yuga, He goes to sleep, and awakening at the commencement of another Yuga, He once more creates the universe, Do you all bow unto that illustrious one who is possessed of high soul and who transcends the three attributes, who is unborn, whose form is the universe, and who is the abode or refuge of all the denizens of heaven. Do you bow unto Him who is the Supreme Lord of all creatures, who is the Lord of the Adityas, and of the Vasus as well. Do you bow unto Him who is the Lord of the Aswins, and the Lord of the Maruts, who is the lord of all the Sacrifices ordained in the Vedas, and the Lord of the Vedangas. Bow unto Him who always resides in the Ocean, and who is called Hari, and whose hair is like the blades of the Munja grass. Bow unto Him who is Peace and Tranquillity, and who imparts the religion of Moksha unto all creatures. Bow unto Him who is the Lord of Penances, of all kinds of energy, and of Fame, who is ever the Lord of Speech and the Lord of all the Rivers also. Bow unto Him who is called Kaparddin (Rudra), who is the Great Boar, who is Unicorn, and who is possessed of great intelligence, who is the Sun, who assumed the well-known form with the equine head; and who is always displayed in a four-fold form. Bow unto Him who is unrevealed, who is capable of being apprehended by knowledge only, who is both indestructible and destructible. The supreme Deity, who is immutable, pervadeth all things. He is the Supreme Lord who can be known with the aid of the eye of knowledge alone. It was thus that, aided by the eye of Knowledge, I beheld in days of yore that foremost of deities. Asked by you, I have told you everything in detail, ye disciples, and do you act according to my words and dutifully serve the Supreme Lord called Hari. Do you hymn His praises in Vedic words and adore and worship Him also according to due rites!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'It was thus that the arranger of the Vedas, endued with great intelligence, discoursed to us, questioned by us on that occasion. His son, the highly righteous Suka, and all his disciples (viz., ourselves) listened to him while he delivered that discourse. Our preceptor, with ourselves, O king, then adored the great Deity with Richs extracted from the four Vedas. I have thus told thee everything about what thou hadst asked me. It was thus, O king, that our Island-born preceptor discoursed to us. He who, having uttered the words--I bow unto the holy Lord,--frequently listens, with concentrated attention, to this discourse or reads or recites it to others, becomes endued with intelligence and health, and possessed of beauty and strength. If ill, he becomes freed from that illness, bound, freed from his bonds. The man who cherishes desires obtains (by this) the fruition of all his desires, and easily attains to a long life also. A Brahmana, by doing this, becomes conversant with all the Vedas, and a Kshatriya becomes crowned with success. A Vaisya, by doing it, makes considerable profits, and a Sudra attains to great felicity. A sonless man obtains a son. A maiden obtains a desirable husband. A woman that has conceived brings forth a son. A barren woman conceives and attains to wealth of sons and grandsons. He who recites this discourse on the way succeeds in passing happily and without impediments of any kind along his way. In fact, one attains to whatever objects one cherishes, if one reads or recites this narrative. Hearing these words of the great Rishi, fraught with certainty of conclusion, and embodying a recital of the attributes of that high-souled one who is the foremost of all beings, hearing this narrative of the great conclave of Rishis and other denizens of heaven,--men who are devoted to the supreme Deity derive great happiness."' SECTION CCCXLII "Janamejaya said, 'O holy one, it behoveth thee to tell me the significance of those diverse names uttering which the great Rishi Vyasa with his disciples hymned the praises of the illustrious slayer of Madhu. I am desirous of hearing those names of Hari, that Supreme Lord of all creatures. Indeed, by listening to those names, I shall be sanctified and cleansed even like the bright autumnal moon.' "Vaisampayana said, 'Listen, O king, to what the significances are of the diverse names, due to attributes and acts, of Hari as the puissant Hari himself of cheerful soul explained them to Phalguna. That slayer of hostile heroes, viz., Phalguna, had at one time asked Kesava, enquiring after the imports of the some of the names by which the high-souled Keshva is adored. "'Arjuna said, "O holy one, O Supreme ordainer of the Past and the Future, O Creator of all Beings, O immutable one, O Refuge of all the worlds, O Lord of the universe, O dispeller of the fears of all persons, I desire to hear from thee in detail, O Kesava, the significance of all those names of thine, O God, which have been mentioned by the great Rishis in the Vedas and the Puranas in consequences of diverse acts of thine. None else than thee, O Lord, is competent to explain the significations of those names." "'The holy one said, "In the Rigveda, in the Yajurveda, in the Atharvans and the Samans, in the Puranas and the Upanishads, as also in the treatises on Astrology, O Arjuna, in the Sankhya scriptures, in the Yoga scriptures, and in the treatises also on the Science of Life, many are the names that have been mentioned by the great Rishis. Some of those names are derivable from my attributes and some of them relate to my acts. Do thou hear, with concentrated attention, O sinless one, what the import is of each of those names (in particular) that have reference to my acts. I shall recite them to you. It is said that in days of yore you were half my body. Salutations unto Him of great glory, Him, viz., that is the Supreme Soul of all embodied creatures.[1850] Salutations unto Narayana, unto Him that is identifiable with the universe, unto Him that transcends the three (primal) attributes (of Sattwa, Rajas and Minas), unto Him that is, again, the Soul of those attributes. From His grace hath arisen Brahman and from His wrath hath arisen Rudra. He is the source whence have sprung all mobile and immobile creatures. O foremost of all persons endued with Sattwa, the attribute of Sattwa consists of the eight and ten qualities.[1851] That attribute is Supreme Nature having for her soul the Sky and Earth and succeeding by her creative forces in upholding the universe. That Nature is identical with the fruit of all acts (in the form of the diverse regions of felicity to which creatures attain through their acts). She is also the pure Chit. She is immortal, and invincible, and is called the Soul of the universe. From her flows all the modifications of both Creation and Destruction. (She is identical with my Prakriti or Nature). Divested of sex, She or He is the penances that people undergo. He is both the sacrifice that is performed and the sacrificer that performs the sacrifice. He is the ancient and the infinite Purusha. He is otherwise called Aniruddha and is the source of the Creation and the Destruction of the universe. When Brahma's night wore off, through the grace of that Being of immeasurable energy, a lotus made its appearance first, O thou of eyes like lotus petals. Within that lotus was born Brahma, springing from Aniruddha's grace. Towards the evening of Brahma's day, Aniruddha became filled with wrath, and as a consequence of this, there sprang from his forehead a son called Rudra vested with the power of destroying everything (when the hour for destruction comes). These two, viz., Brahma and Rudra, are the foremost of all the deities, having sprung respectively from the Propitiousness and the Wrath (of Aniruddha). Acting according to Aniruddha's direction, these two deities create and destroy. Although capable of granting boons unto all creatures, they are, however, in the matter of the concerns to which they attend (viz., Creation and Destruction), merely instruments in the hands of Aniruddha. (It is Aniruddha that does everything, making Brahma and Rudra the visible agents in respect of the universe). Rudra is otherwise called Kaparddin. He has matted locks on his head, and sometimes displays a head that is bald. He loves to dwell in the midst of crematoriums which constitute his home. He is an observer of the austerest vows. He is Yogin of mighty puissance and energy. He is the destroyer of Daksha's sacrifice and the tearer of Bhaga's eyes. O son of Pandu, Rudra should be known to have always Narayana for his Soul. If that deity of deities, viz., Maheswara, be worshipped, then O Partha, is the puissant Narayana also worshipped. I am the Soul, O son of Pandu, of all the worlds, of all the universe. Rudra, again, is my Soul. It is for this that I always adore him. If I do not adore the auspicious and boon-giving Isana nobody would then adore my own self. The ordinances I set are followed by all the worlds. Those ordinances should always be adored, and it is, therefore, that I adore them. He who knows Rudra knows myself, and he who knows myself knows Rudra. He who follows Rudra follows me, Rudra is Narayana. Both are one; and one is displayed in two different forms. Rudra and Narayana, forming one person, pervade all displayed things and cause them to act. No one else than Rudra is competent to grant me a boon, O son of Pandu. Having settled this in my mind, I adored in days of yore the ancient and puissant Rudra, for obtaining the boon of a son. In adoring Rudra thus I adored my own self. Vishnu never bows his head unto any deity except his own self. It is for this reason that I adore Rudra, (Rudra being, as I have already told thee, my own self). All the deities, including Brahma and Indra and the deities and the great Rishis, adore Narayana, that foremost of deities, otherwise called by the name of Hari. Vishnu is the foremost of all Beings past, present, or future, and as such should always be adored and worshipped with reverence. Do thou bow thy head unto Vishnu. Do thou bow thy head unto Him who gives protection to all. Do thou bow, O son of Kunti, unto that great boon-giving deity, that foremost of deities, who eats the offerings made unto him in sacrifices. I have heard that there are four kinds of worshippers, viz., those who are eager for a religious life, those who are enquirers, those who strive to comprehend what they learn and those who are wise. Among them all, they that are devoted to realising the self and do not adore any other deity, are the foremost. I am the end they seek, and though engaged in acts, they never seek the fruits thereof. The three remaining classes of my worshippers are those that are desirous of the fruits of their acts. They attain to regions of great felicity, but then they have to fall down therefrom upon the exhaustion of their merits. Those amongst my worshippers, therefore, that are fully awakened (and, as such, that know that all happiness is terminable except what is attainable by persons that become identified with me) obtain what is foremost (and invaluable).[1852] Those that are awakened and whose conduct displays such enlightenment, may be engaged in adoring Brahman or Mahadeva or the other deities that occur in heaven but they succeed at least in attaining to myself. I have thus told thee, O Partha, what the distinctions are between my worshippers. Thyself, O son of Kunti, and myself are known as Nara and Narayana. Both of us have assumed human bodies only for the purpose of lightening the burden of the Earth. I am fully cognisant of self-knowledge. I know who I am and whence I am, O Bharata. I know the religion of Nivritti, and all that contributes to the prosperity of creatures. Eternal as I am, I am the one sole Refuge of all men. The waters have been called by the name of Nara, for they sprang from Him called Nara. And since the waters in former times, were my refuge, I am, therefore, called by the name of Narayana. Assuming the form of the Sun I cover the universe with my rays. And because I am the home of all creatures, therefore, am I called by the name of Vasudeva. I am the end of all creatures and their sire, O Bharata. I pervade the entire firmament on high and the Earth, O Partha, and my splendour transcends every other splendour. I am He, O Bharata, whom all creatures wish to attain to at the time of death. And because I pervade all the universe, I have come to be called by the name of Vishnu. Desirous of attaining to success through restraint of their senses, people seek to attain to me who am heaven and Earth and the firmament between the two. For this am I called by the name of Damodara. The word Prisni includes food, the Vedas, water, and nectar. These four are always in my stomach. Hence am I called by the name of Prisnigarbha. The Rishis have said that once on a time when the Rishi Trita was thrown into a well by Ekata and Dwiti, the distressed Trita invoked me, saying,--'O Prisnigarbha, do thou rescue the fallen Trita!' That foremost of Rishis, viz., Trita, the spiritual son of Brahma, having called on me thus, was rescued from the pit. The rays that emanate from the Sun who gives heat to the world, from the blazing fire, and from the Moon, constitute my hair. Hence do foremost of learned Brahmanas call me by the name of Kesava. The high-souled Utathya having impregnated his wife disappeared from her side through an illusion of the gods. The younger brother Vrihaspati then appeared before that high-souled one's wife. Unto that foremost of Rishis that had repaired thither from desire of congress, the child in the womb of Utathya's wife, O son of Kunti, whose body had already been formed of the five primal elements, said,--'O giver of boons, I have already entered into this womb. It behoveth thee not to assail my mother.' Hearing these words of the unborn child, Vrihaspati, became filled with wrath and denounced a curse on him, saying,--'Since thou obstructest me in this way when I have come hither from desire of the pleasures of congress, therefore shalt thou, by my curse, be visited by blindness, without doubt!' Through this curse of that foremost of Rishis, the child of Utathya was born blind, and blind he remained for a long time. It was for this reason that the Rishi, in days of yore, came to be known by the name of Dirghatamas. He, however, acquired the four Vedas with their eternal limbs and subsidiary parts. After that he frequently invoked me by this secret name of mine. Indeed, according to the ordinance as laid down, he repeatedly called upon me by the name of Kesava. Through the merit he acquired by uttering this name repeatedly, he became cured of his blindness and then came to be called by the name of Gotama. This name of mine, therefore, O Arjuna is productive of boons unto them that utter it among all the deities and the high-souled Rishis. The deity of Fire (Appetite) and Shoma (food) combining together, become transfused into one and the same substance. It is for this reason that the entire universe of mobile and immobile creatures is said to be pervaded by those two deities.[1853] In the Puranas, Agni and Soma are spoken of as complementary to one another. The deities also are said to have Agni for their mouth. It is in consequence of these two beings endued with natures leading to the unification that they are said to be deserving of each other and upholders of the universe."'" SECTION CCCXLIII "'Arjuna said, "How did Agni and Shoma, in days of yore, attain to uniformity in respect of their original nature? This doubt has arisen in my mind. Do thou dispel it, O slayer of Madhu!" "'The highly and holy one said, "I shall recite to thee, O son of Pandu, an ancient story of incidents originating from my own energy. Do thou listen to it with rapt attention! When four thousand Yugas according to the measure of the celestials elapse, the dissolution of the universe comes. The Manifest disappears into the Unmanifest. All creatures, mobile and immobile, meet with destruction. Light, Earth, Wind, all disappear. Darkness spreads over the universe which becomes one infinite expanse of water. When that infinite waste of water only exists like Brahma without second, it is neither day nor night. Neither aught nor naught exists; neither manifest nor unmanifest. Then only undifferentiated Brahman existed. When such is the condition of the universe, the foremost of Beings, viz., springs from Tamas, the eternal and immutable Hari that is the combination of the attributes (of omnipotence and the rest), belonging to Narayana, that is indestructible and immortal, that is without senses, that is inconceivable and unborn, that is Truth's self fraught with compassion, that is endued with the form of existence which the rays of the gem called Chintamani have, that causes diverse kinds of inclinations to flow in diverse directions, that is divested of the principles of hostility and deterioration and mortality and decay, that is formless and all-pervading, and that is endued with the principle of universal Creation and of Eternity without beginning, middle, or end. There is authority for this assertion. The Sruti declares,--'Day was not. Night was not. Aught was not. Naught was not. In the beginning there was only Tamas[1854] in the form of the universe, and she is the night of Narayana of universal form.' Even this is the meaning of the word Tamas. From that Purusha (called Hari), thus born of Tamas and having Brahman for his parent, started into existence the Being called Brahman. Brahman, desiring to create creatures, caused Agni and Shoma to spring from his own eyes. Afterwards when creatures came to be created, the created persons came out in their due order as Brahmanas and Kshatriyas. He who started into life as Shoma was none else than Brahma; and they that were born as Brahmanas were all Shoma in reality. He who started into being as Kshatriyas were none else than Agni. The Brahmanas became endued with greater energy than the Kshatriyas. If you ask the reason why, the answer is that this superiority of the Brahmanas to the Kshatriyas is an attribute that is manifest to the whole world. It occurred as follows. The Brahmanas represent the eldest creation as regards men. None were created before, that was superior to the Brahmanas. He who offers food into the mouth of a Brahmana is regarded as pouring libations into a blazing fire (for gratifying the deities). I say that having ordained things in comprising this way, the creation of creatures was accomplished by Brahma. Having established all created Beings in their respective positions, he upholds the three worlds. There occurs a declaration to the same effect in the Mantras of the Srutis. Thou, O Agni, art the Hotri in sacrifices, and the benefactor of the universe. Thou art the benefactor of the deities, of men, and of all the worlds. There is (other) authority also for this. Thou art, O Agni, the Hotri of the universe and of sacrifices. Thou art the source through which the deities and men do good to the universe. Agni is truly the Hotri and the performer of sacrifices. Agni is again the Brahma of the sacrifice. No libations can be poured into sacrificial fire without uttering mantras; there can be no penances without a person to perform them; the worship of the deities and men and the Rishis is accomplished by the libations poured with mantras. Hence, O Agni, thou hast been regarded as the Hotri in sacrifices.[1855] Thou art, again, all the other mantras that have been declared in respect of the Homa rites of men. For the Brahmanas the duty is ordained of officiating for others in the sacrifices they perform. The two other orders, viz., Kshatriyas and Vaisyas, that are included within the regenerate or twice-born class, have not the same duty prescribed for them. Hence, Brahmanas are like Agni, who uphold sacrifices. The sacrifices (which the Brahmanas perform) strengthen the deities. Strengthened in this way, the deities fructify the Earth (and thereby support all living creatures). But the result that may be achieved by the foremost of sacrifices may as well be accomplished through the mouth of the Brahmanas. That learned person who offers food into the mouth of a Brahmana is said to pour libations into the sacred fire for gratifying the deities. In this way the Brahmanas have come to be regarded as Agni. They that are possessed of learning adore Agni. Agni, is again, Vishnu. Entering all creatures, he upholds their life-breaths. In this connection there is a verse sung by Sanatkumara. Brahman, in creating the universe, first created the Brahmanas. The Brahmanas become immortal by studying the Vedas, and repair to heaven through the aid of such study. The intelligence, speech, acts and observances, faith, and the penances of the Brahmanas uphold both the Earth and the heaven like slings of strings upholding bovine nectar.[1856] There is no duty higher than Truth. There is no superior more worthy of reverence than the mother. There is none more efficient than the Brahmana for conferring felicity both here and hereafter. The inhabitants of those realms where Brahmanas have no certain means of support (from lands or other kinds of property assigned to them) become very miserable. There the oxen do not carry the people or draw the plough, nor do vehicles of any kind bear them. There milk kept in jars is never churned for yielding butter. On the other hand, the residents become divested of prosperity of every kind, and betake themselves to the ways of robbers (instead of being able to enjoy the blessings of peace).[1857] In the Vedas, the Puranas, the histories, and other authoritative writings, it is said that Brahmanas, who are the souls of all creatures, who are the creators of all things, and who are identifiable with all existent objects, sprang from the mouth of Narayana. Indeed, it is said that the Brahmanas first came at the time when the great boon-giving god had restrained his speech as a penance and the other orders have originated from the Brahmanas. The Brahmanas are distinguished above the deities and Asuras, since they were created by myself in my indescribable form as Brahma. As I have created the deities and the Asuras and the great Rishis so I have placed the Brahmanas in their respective situations and have to punish them occasionally. In consequence of his licentious assault on Ahalya, Indra was cursed by Gautama, her husband, through which Indra got a green beard on his face. Through that curse of Kausika Indra lost, also, his own testicles, which loss was afterwards (through the kindness of the other deities) made up by the substitution of the testicles of a ram. When in the sacrifice of king Sarjiati, the great Rishi Chyavana became desirous of making the twin Aswins sharers of the sacrificial offerings, Indra objected. Upon Chyavana insisting, Indra sought to hurl his thunderbolt at him. The Rishi paralysed Indra's arms. Incensed at the destruction of his sacrifice by Rudra, Daksha once more set himself to the practice of severe austerities and attaining to high puissance caused something like a third eye to appear on the forehead of Rudra for the destruction of Tripurasura.[1858] When Rudra addressed himself for the destruction of the triple city belonging to the Asuras, the preceptor of the Asuras, viz., Usanas, provoked beyond endurance, tore a matted lock from his own head and hurled it at Rudra. From that matted lock of Usanas sprang many serpents. Those serpents began to bite Rudra, at which his throat became blue. During a bygone period, viz., that connected with the Self-born Manu,[1859] it is said that Narayana had seized Rudra by the throat and hence did Rudra's throat become blue. On the occasion of churning the Ocean for raising the amrita, Vrihaspati of Angira's race sat on the shores of the Ocean for performing the rite of Puruscharana. When he took up a little water for the purpose of the initial achamana, the water seemed to him to be very muddy. At this Vrihaspati became angry and cursed the Ocean, saying,--'Since thou continuest to be so dirty regardless of the fact of my having come to thee for touching thee, since thou hast not become clear and transparent, therefore from this day thou shalt be tainted with fishes and sharks and tortoises and other aquatic animals.' From that time, the waters of the ocean have become infested with diverse kinds of sea-animals and monsters. Viswarupa, the son of Tashtri, formerly became the priest of the deities. He was, on his mother's side, related to the Asuras, for his mother was the daughter of an Asura. While publicly offering unto the deities their shares of sacrificial offerings, he privately offered shares thereof unto the Asuras. The Asuras, with their chief Hiranyakasipu at their head, then repaired to their sister, the mother of Viswarupa, and solicited a boon from her, saying,--'The son Viswarupa by Tashtri, otherwise called Trisiras, is now the priest of the deities. While he gives unto the deities their shares of sacrificial offerings publicly, he gives us our shares of the same privately. In consequence of this, the deities are being aggrandised, and we are being weakened. It behoveth thee, therefore, to prevail upon him that he may take up our cause.' Thus addressed by them, the mother of Viswarupa repaired to her son who was then staying in the Nandana woods (of Indra) and said unto him,--'How is it, O son, that thou art engaged in aggrandising the cause of thy foes and weakening that of thy maternal uncles? It behoveth thee not to act in this way.'--Viswarupa, thus solicited by his mother, thought that he should not disobey her words, and as the consequence of that reflection he went over to the side of Hiranyakasipu, after having paid proper respects to his mother. King Hiranyakasipu, upon the arrival of Trisiras, dismissed his old Hotri, viz., Vasishtha, the son of Brahma, and appointed Trisiras to that office. Incensed at this, Vasishtha cursed Hiranyakasipu, saying,--'Since thou dismissest me and appointest another person as thy Hotri, this sacrifice of thine shall not be completed, and some Being the like of whom has not existed before will slay thee!'--In consequence of this curse, Hiranyakasipu was slain by Vishnu in the form of a man-lion. Viswarupa, having adopted the side of his maternal relations, employed himself in severe austerities for aggrandising them. Impelled by the desire of causing him to swerve from his vows, Indra despatched to him many beautiful Apsaras. Beholding those celestial nymphs of transcendent beauty, the heart of Viswarupa became agitated. Within a very short time he became exceedingly attached to them. Understanding that he had become attached to them, the celestial nymphs said unto him one day,--'We shall not tarry here any longer. In fact, we shall return to that place whence we came.' Unto them that said so, the son of Tashtri replied,--'Where will you go? Stay with me. I shall do you good.' Hearing him say so, the Apsaras rejoined,--'We are celestial nymphs called Apsaras. We chose in days of old the illustrious and boon-giving Indra of great puissance.' Viswarupa then said unto them, 'This very day I shall so ordain that all the deities with Indra at their head shall cease to be.' Saying this, Trisiras began to recite mentally certain sacred Mantras of great efficacy. By virtue of those Mantras he began to increase in energy. With one of his mouths he began to drink all the Soma that Brahmanas engaged in Sacrifices poured on their sacred fires with due rites. With a second mouth he began to eat all food (that was offered in sacrifices). With his third mouth he began to drink up the energy of all the deities with Indra at their head. Beholding him swelling with energy in every part of his body that was strengthened by the Soma he was drinking, all the deities, then, with Indra in their company, proceeded to the Grandsire Brahma. Arrived at his presence, they addressed him and said,--'All the Soma that is duly offered in the sacrifices performed everywhere is being drunk by Viswarupa. We no longer obtain our shares. The Asuras are being aggrandised, while we are being weakened. It behoveth thee, therefore, to ordain what is for our good.'--After the deities ceased, the Grandsire replied,--'The great Rishi Dadhichi of Bhrigu's race is now engaged in performing severe austerities. Go, ye deities, unto him and solicit a boon from him. Do ye so arrange that he may cast off his body. With his bones let a new weapon be created called the Thunderbolt.' Thus instructed by the Grandsire, the deities proceeded to that place where the holy Rishi Dadhichi was engaged in his austerities. The deities with Indra at their head addressed the sage, saying,--'O holy one, your austerities, we hope, are being well performed and uninterrupted.'--Unto them the sage Dadhichi said,--'Welcome to all of you. Tell me what I should do for you. I shall certainly do what you will say.' They then told him,--'It behoveth thee to cast off thy body for benefiting all the worlds.' Thus solicited, the sage Dadhichi, who was a great Yogin and who regarded happiness and misery in the same light, without being at all cheerless, concentrated his Soul by his Yoga power and cast off his body. When his Soul left its temporary tenement of clay, Dhatri, taking his bones, created an irresistible weapon called the Thunder-bolt. With the Thunder-bolt thus made with the bones of a Brahmana, which was impenetrable by other weapons and irresistible and pervaded by the energy of Vishnu, Indra struck Viswarupa the son of Tashtri. Having slain the son of Tashtri thus, Indra severed his head from the body. From the lifeless body, however, of Viswarupa, when it was pressed, the energy that was still residing in it gave birth to a mighty Asura of the name of Vritra. Vritra became the foe of Indra, but Indra slew him also with the Thunder-bolt. In consequence of the sin of Brahmanicide, being thus doubled Indra became overcome with a great fear and as the consequence thereof he had to abandon the sovereignty of heaven. He entered a cool lotus stalk that grew in the Manas lake. In consequence of the Yoga attribute of Anima, he became very minute and entered the fibres of that lotus stalk.[1860] When the lord of the three worlds, the husband of Sachi, had thus disappeared from sight through fear of the sin of Brahmanicide, the universe became lordless. The attributes of Rajas and Tamas assailed the deities. The Mantras uttered by the great Rishis lost all efficacy. Rakshasas appeared everywhere. The Vedas were about to disappear. The inhabitants of all the worlds, being destitute of a king, lost their strength and began to fall an easy prey to Rakshasas and other evil Beings. Then the deities and the Rishis, uniting together, made Nahusha, the son of Ayusha, the king of the three worlds and duly crowned him as such. Nahusha had on his forehead full five-hundred luminaries of blazing effulgence, which had the virtue of despoiling every creature of energy. Thus equipt Nahusha continued to rule heaven. The three worlds were restored to their normal condition. The inhabitants of the universe once more became happy and cheerful. Nahusha then said,--'Everything that Indra used to enjoy is before me. Only, his spouse Sachi is not by.' Having said this, Nahusha proceeded to where Sachi was and, addressing her, said,--'O blessed lady, I have become the lord of the deities. Do thou accept me.' Unto him Sachi replied, saying--'Thou art, by nature, wedded to righteousness of behaviour. Thou belongest, again, to the race of Shoma. It behoveth thee not to assail another person's wife.'--Nahusha, thus addressed by her, said,--'The position of Indra is now being occupied by me. I deserve to enjoy the dominions and all the precious possessions of Indra. In desiring to enjoy thee there can be no sin. Thou wert Indra's and therefore, should be mine.' Sachi then said unto him,--'I am observing a vow that has not yet been completed. After performing the final ablutions I shall come to thee within a few days.' Extracting this promise from Indra's spouse, Nahusha left her presence. Meanwhile Sachi, afflicted with pain and grief, anxious to find her lord and assailed by her fear of Nahusha proceeded to Vrihaspati (the chief priest of the celestials). At the first sight Vrihaspati understood her to be struck with anxiety. He immediately had recourse to Yoga-meditation and learnt that she was intent upon doing what was necessary for restoring her husband to his true position. Vrihaspati then addressed her, saying,--'Equipt with penances and the merit that will be thine in consequence of this vow that thou art observing, do thou invoke the boon-giving goddess Upasruti. Invoked by thee, she will appear and show thee where thy husband is dwelling.'--While in the observance of that very austere vow, she invoked with the aid of proper Mantras the boon-giving goddess Upasruti. Invoked by Sachi, the goddess presented herself before her and said,--'I am here at thy bidding. Invoked by thee I have come. What cherished wish of thine shall I accomplish?' Bowing unto her with a bend of the head, Sachi said,--'O blessed lady, it behoveth thee to show me where my husband is. Thou art Truth. Thou art Rita.' Thus addressed, the goddess Upasruti took her to the lake Manasa. Arrived there, she pointed out to Sachi her lord Indra residing within the fibres of a lotus stalk. Beholding his spouse pale and emaciated, Indra became exceedingly anxious. And the lord of heaven said unto himself, 'Alas, great is the sorrow that has overtaken me. I have fallen off from the position that is mine. This my spouse, afflicted with grief on my account, finds out my lost self and comes to me here.' Having reflected in this strain, Indra addressed his dear spouse and said,--'In what condition art thou now?' She answered him,--'Nahusha invites me to make me his wife. I have obtained a respite from him, having fixed the time when I am to go to him.' Unto her Indra then said, 'Go and say unto Nahusha that he should come to thee on a vehicle never used before, viz., one unto which some Rishis should be harnessed, and arriving at thine in that state he should wed thee. Indra has many kinds of vehicles that are all beautiful and charming. All these have borne thee. Nahusha, however, should come on such a vehicle that Indra himself had not possessed.' Thus counselled by her lord, Sachi left that spot with a joyous heart. Indra also once more entered the fibres of that lotus-stalk. Beholding the Queen of Indra come back to heaven, Nahusha addressed her saying, 'The time thou hadst fixed is over.' Unto him Sachi said what Indra had directed her to say. Harnessing a number of great Rishis unto the vehicle he rode, Nahusha set out from his place for coming to where Sachi was living. The foremost of Rishis, viz., Agastya, born within a jar, of the vital seed of Maitravaruna, beheld those foremost of Rishis insulted by Nahusha in that way. Him Nahusha struck with his foot. Unto him, Agastya said,--'Wretch, as thou hast betaken thyself to a highly improper act, do thou fall down on the Earth. Be transformed into a snake and do thou continue to live in that form as long as the Earth and her hills continue.' As soon as these words were uttered by the great Rishi, Nahusha fell down from that vehicle. The three worlds once more became master-less. The deities and the Rishis then united together and proceeded to where Vishnu was and appealed to him for bringing about the restoration of Indra. Approaching him, they said,--'O holy one, it behoveth thee to rescue Indra who is overwhelmed by the sin of Brahmanicide.' The boon-giving Vishnu replied unto them, saying,--'Let Sakra perform a Horse-sacrifice in honour of Vishnu. He will then be restored to his former position.' The deities and the Rishis began to search for Indra, but when they could not find him, they went to Sachi and said unto her,--'O blessed lady, go unto Indra and bring him here.' Requested by them, Sachi once more proceeded to the lake Manasa. Indra, rising from the lake, came to Vrihaspati. The celestial priest Vrihaspati then made arrangements for a great Horse-sacrifice, substituting a black antelope for a good steed every way fit to be offered up in sacrifice. Causing Indra, the lord of the Maruts, to ride upon that very steed (which was saved from slaughter) Vrihaspati led him to his own place. The lord of heaven was then adored with hymns by all the deities and the Rishis. He continued to rule in heaven, cleansed of the sin of Brahmanicide which was divided into four portions and ordained to reside in woman, fire, trees, and kine. It was thus that Indra, strengthened by the energy of a Brahmana, succeeded in slaying his foe (and when, as the result of that act of his, he had been overpowered by sin, it was the energy of another Brahmana that rescued him). It was thus that Indra once more regained his position. "'"In days of yore, while the great Rishi Bharadwaja was saying his prayers by the side of the celestial Ganga, one of the three feet of Vishnu, when he assumed his three-footed form, reached that spot.[1861] Beholding that strange sight, Bharadwaja assailed Vishnu with a handful of water, upon which Vishnu's bosom received a mark (called Sreevatsa)[1862]. Cursed by that foremost of Rishis, viz., Bhrigu, Agni was obliged to become a devourer of all things. Once on a time, Aditi, the mother of the deities, cooked some food for her sons. She thought that, eating that food and strengthened by it, the deities would succeed in slaying the Asuras. After the food had been cooked, Vudha (the presiding deity of the luminary known by that name), having completed the observance of an austere vow, presented himself before Aditi and said unto her,--'Give me alms.' Aditi, though thus solicited for food gave him none, thinking that no one should eat of the food she had cooked, before her sons, the deities, had first taken it. Incensed at the conduct of Aditi who thus refused to give him alms, Vudha, who was Brahma's self through the austere vow he had completed, cursed her, saying that as Aditi had refused him alms she would have a pain in her womb when Vivaswat, in his second birth in the womb of Aditi, would be born in the form of an egg. Aditi reminded Vivaswat at that time of the curse of Vudha, and it is for that reason that Vivaswat, the deity who is adorned in Sraddhas, coming out of the womb of Aditi, came to be called by the name of Martanda. The Prajapati Daksha became the father of sixty daughters. Amongst them, three and ten were bestowed by him upon Kasyapa; ten upon Dharma; ten upon Manu; and seven and twenty upon Shoma. Although all the seven and twenty that were called Nakshatras and bestowed upon Shoma were equal in respect of beauty and accomplishments, yet Shoma became more attached to one, viz., Rohini, than the rest. The rest of his spouses, filled with jealousy, leaving him, repaired to their sire and informed him of this conduct of their husband, saying,--'O holy one, although all of us are equal in point of beauty, yet our husband Shoma is exclusively attached to our sister Rohini.'--Incensed at this representation of his daughters, the celestial Rishi Daksha cursed Shoma, saying, that thenceforth the disease phthisis should assail his son-in-law and dwell in him. Through this curse of Daksha, phthisis assailed the puissant Shoma and entered into his body. Assailed by phthisis in this way, Shoma came to Daksha. The latter addressed him, saying,--'I have cursed thee because of thy unequal behaviour towards thy wives.' The Rishi then said unto Shoma,--'Thou art being reduced by the disease phthisis that has assailed thee. There is a sacred water called Hiranyasarah in the Western ocean. Repairing to that sacred water, do thou bathe there.'--Counselled by the Rishi, Shoma proceeded thither. Arrived at Hiranyasarah, Soma bathed in that sacred water. Performing his oblations he cleansed himself from his sin. And because that sacred water was illumined (abhasita) by Shoma, therefore was it from that day called by the name of Prabhasa. In consequence, however, of the curse denounced upon him in days of old by Daksha, Shoma, to this day, begins to wane from the night of the full moon till his total disappearance on the night of the new moon whence he once more begins to wax till the night of full moon. The brightness also of the lunar disc from that time received a stain, for the body of Shoma, since then, has come to present certain dark spots. In fact, the splendid disc of the moon has, from that day, come to exhibit the mark of a hare. Once on a time, a Rishi of the name of Sthulasiras was engaged in practising very severe austerities on the northern breasts of the mountains of Meru. While engaged in those austerities, a pure breeze, charged with all kinds of delicious perfumes, began to blow there and fan his body. Scorched as his body was by the very severe austerities he was undergoing, and living as he did upon air alone to the exclusion of every kind of food, he became highly gratified in consequence of that delicious breeze which blew around him. While he was thus gratified with the delicious breeze that fanned him, the trees around him (moved by jealousy) put forth their flowers for making a display and extorting his praise. Displeased at this conduct of the trees because it was dictated by jealousy, the Rishi cursed them, saying,--'Henceforth, ye shall not be able to put forth your flowers at all times.'--In days of yore, for doing good to the world, Narayana took birth as the great Rishi Vadavamukha. While engaged in practising severe austerities on the breast of Meru, he summoned the Ocean to his presence. The Ocean, however, disobeyed his summons. Incensed at this, the Rishi, with the heat of his body, caused the waters of the Ocean to become as saltish in taste as the human sweat. The Rishi further said.--'Thy waters shall henceforth cease to be drinkable. Only when the Equine-head, roving within thee, will drink thy waters, they will be as sweet as honey.' It is for this curse that the waters of the Ocean to this day are saltish to the taste and are drunk by no one else than the Equine-head.[1863] The daughter, named Uma, of the Himavat mountains, was desired by Rudra in marriage. After Himavat had promised the hand of Uma to Mahadeva, the great Rishi Bhrigu, approaching Himavat, addressed him, saying,--'Give this daughter of thine unto me in marriage.' Himavat replied unto him, saying,--'Rudra is the bridegroom already selected by me for my daughter.'--Angry at this reply, Bhrigu said,--'Since thou refusest my suit for the hand of thy daughter and insultest me thus, thou shalt no longer abound with jewels and gems.' To this day, in consequence of the Rishi's words, the mountains of Himavat have not any jewels and gems. Even such is the glory of the Brahmanas. It is through the favour of the Brahmanas that the Kshatriyas are able to possess the eternal and undeteriorating Earth as their wife and enjoy her. The power of the Brahmanas, again, is made up of Agni and Shoma. The universe is upheld by that power and, therefore, is upheld by Agni and Shoma united together. It is said that Surya and Chandramas are the eyes of Narayana. The rays of Surya constitute my eyes. Each of them, viz., the Sun and the Moon, invigorate and warm the universe respectively. And because of the Sun and the Moon thus warming and invigorating the universe, they have come to be regarded as the Harsha (joy) of the universe. It is in consequence of these acts of Agni and Shoma that uphold the universe that I have come to be called by the name of Hrishikesa, O son of Pandu. Indeed, I am the boon-giving Isana, the Creator of the universe.[1864] Through virtue of the Mantras with which libations of clarified butter are poured on the sacred fire, I take and appropriate the (principal) share of the offerings made in sacrifices. My complexion also is of that foremost of gems called Harit. It is for these reasons that I am called by the name of Hari. I am the highest abode of all creatures and am regarded by persons conversant with the scriptures to be identical with Truth or Nectar. I am, for this reason, called by learned Brahmanas by the name of Ritadhama (abode of Truth or Nectar). When in days of yore the Earth became submerged in the waters and lost to the view, I found her out and raised her from the depths of the Ocean. For this reason the deities adore me by the name of Govinda. Sipivishta is another name of mine. The word Sipi indicates a person that has no hair on his body. He who pervades all things in the form of Sipi is known by the name of Sipivishta. The Rishi Yaksha, with tranquil soul, in many a sacrifice invoked me by the name Sipivishta. It is for this reason that I came to bear this secret name. Yaksha of great intelligence, having adored me by the name Sipivishta, succeeded in restoring the Niruktas which had disappeared from the surface of the Earth and sunk into nether regions. I was never born. I never take birth. Nor shall I ever be born. I am the Kshetrajna of all creatures. Hence am I called by the name of Aja (unborn).[1865] I have never uttered anything base or anything that is obscene. The divine Saraswati who is Truth's self, who is the daughter of Brahma and is otherwise called by the name of Rita, represents my speech and always dwells in my tongue. The existent and the non-existent have been merged by me in my Soul. The Rishis dwelling in Pushkara, which is regarded as the abode of Brahman, called me by the name of Truth. I have never swerved from the attribute of Sattwa, and know that the attribute of Sattwa has flowed from me. In this birth also of mine, O Dhananjaya, my ancient attribute of Sattwa has not left me, so that in even this life, establishing myself on Sattwa, I set myself to acts without ever wishing for their fruits. Cleansed of all sins as I am through the attribute of Sattwa, which is my nature, I can be beheld by the aid of that knowledge only which arises from adoption of the attribute of Sattwa. I am reckoned also among those that are wedded to that attribute. For these reasons am I known by the name of Sattwata.[1866] I till the Earth, assuming the form of a large plough-share of black iron. And because my complexion is black, therefore am I called by the name of Krishna. I have united the Earth with Water, Space with Mind, and Wind with Light. Therefore am I called Vaikuntha.[1867] The cessation of separate conscious existence by identification with Supreme Brahman is the highest attribute or condition for a living agent to attain. And since I have never swerved from that attribute or condition, I am, therefore, called by the name of Achyuta.[1868] The Earth and the Firmament are known to extend in all directions. And because I uphold them both, therefore am I called by the name of Adhokshaja. Persons conversant with the Vedas and employed in interpreting the words used in those scriptures adore me in sacrifices by calling upon me by the same name. In days of yore, the great Rishis, while engaged in practising severe austerities, said,--'No one else in the universe than the puissant Narayana, is capable of being called by the name of Adhokshaja.' Clarified butter which sustains the lives of all creatures in the universe constitutes my effulgence. It is for this reason that Brahmanas conversant with the Vedas and possessed of concentrated souls call me by the name of Ghritarchis.[1869] There are three well-known constituent elements of the body. They have their origin in action, and are called Bile, Phlegm, and Wind. The body is called a union of these three. All living creatures are upheld by these three, and when these three become weakened, living creatures also become weakened. It is for this reason that all persons conversant with the scriptures bearing on the science of Life call me by the name of Tridhatu.[1870] The holy Dharma is known among all creatures by the name of Vrisha, O Bharata. Hence it is that I am called the excellent Vrisha in the Vedic lexicon called Nighantuka. The word 'Kapi' signifies the foremost of boars, and Dharma is otherwise known by the name of Vrisha. It is for this reason that that lord of all creatures, viz., Kasyapa, the common sire of the deities and the Asuras, called me by the name Vrishakapi. The deities and the Asuras have never been able to ascertain my beginning, my middle, or my end. It is for this reason that I am sung as Anadi, Amadhya and Ananta. I am the Supreme Lord endued with puissance, and I am the eternal witness of the universe (beholding as I do its successive creations and destructions). I always hear words that are pure and holy, O Dhananjaya, and never hold anything that is sinful. Hence am I called by the name of Suchisravas. Assuming, in days of old, the form of a boar with a single tusk, O enhancer of the joys of others, I raised the submerged Earth from the bottom of the ocean. From this reason am I called by the name of Ekasringa. While I assumed the form of mighty boar for this purpose, I had three humps on my back. Indeed, in consequence of this peculiarity of my form at that time that I have come to be called by the name of Trikakud (three-humped). Those who are conversant with the science propounded by Kapila call the Supreme Soul by the name of Virincha. That Virincha is otherwise called the great Prajapati (or Brahman). Verily I am identical with Him, called Virincha, in consequence of my imparting animation to all living creatures, for I am the Creator of the universe. The preceptors of Sankhya philosophy, possessed of definite conclusions (regarding all topics), call me the eternal Kapila staying in the midst of the solar disc with but Knowledge for my companion.[1871] On Earth I am known to be identical with Him who has been sung in the Vedic verses as the effulgent Hiranyagarbha and who is always worshipped by Yogins. I am regarded as the embodied form of the Rich Veda consisting of one and twenty thousand verses. Persons conversant with the Vedas also call me the embodiment of the Samans of a thousand branches. Even thus do learned Brahmans that are my devoted worshippers and that are very rare sing me in the Aranyakas.[1872] In the Adhyaryus I am sung as the Yajur-Veda of six and fifty and eight and seven and thirty branches.[1873] Learned Brahmans conversant with the Atharvans regard me as identical with the Atharvans consisting of five Kalpas and all the Krityas.[1874] All the sub-divisions that exist of the different Vedas in respect of branches and all the verses that compose those branches, and all the vowels that occur in those verses, and all the rules in respect of pronunciation, know, O Dhananjaya, are my work. O Partha, he that rises (at the beginning of Creation from the Ocean of Milk at the earnest invocation of Brahmana and all the deities) and who gives diverse boons unto the diverse deities, is none else than myself. I am He who is the repository of the science of syllables and pronunciation that is treated of in the supplementary portions of the Vedas. Following the path pointed out by Vamadeva, the high-souled Rishi Panchala, through my grace, obtained from that eternal Being the rules in respect of the division of syllables and words (for reading the Vedas). Indeed, Galava, born in the Vabhravya race, having attained to high ascetic success and obtained a boon from Narayana, compiled the rules in respect of the division of syllables and words (for reading the Vedas). Indeed, Galava, born in the Vabhravya race, having attained to the high ascetic success and obtained a boon from Narayana, compiled the rules in respect of the division of syllables and words, and those about emphasis and accent in utterance, and shone as the first scholar who became conversant with those two subjects. Kundrika and king Brahmadatta of great energy,[1875] repeatedly thinking of the sorrow that attends birth and death, attained to that prosperity which is acquired by persons devoted to Yoga, in course of seven births, in consequence of my favour. In days of yore, O Partha, I was, for some reason, born as the son of Dharma, O chief of Kuru's race, and in consequence of such birth of mine I was celebrated under the name of Dharmaja. I took birth in two forms, viz., as Nara and Narayana. Riding on the vehicle that helps towards the performance of scriptural and other duties, I practised, in those two forms, undying austerities on the breast of Gandhamadana.[1876] At that time the great sacrifice of Daksha took place. Daksha, however, in that sacrifice of his, refused to give a share unto Rudra, O Bharata, of the sacrificial offerings. Urged by the sage Dadhichi, Rudra destroyed that sacrifice. He hurled a dart whose flames blazed up every moment. That dart, having consumed all the preparations of Daksha's sacrifice, came with great force towards us (Nara and Narayana) at the retreat of Vadari. With great violence that dart then fell upon the chest of Narayana. Assailed by the energy of that dart, the hair on the head of Narayana became green. In fact, in consequence of this change in the hue of my hair I came to be called by the name of Munjakesa.[1877] Driven off by an exclamation of Hun which Narayana uttered, the dart, its energy being lost, returned to Sankara's hands. At this, Rudra became highly angry and as the result thereof he rushed towards the Rishis Nara and Narayana, endued with the puissance of severe austerities. Narayana then seized the rushing Rudra with his hand by the throat. Seized by Narayana, the lord of the universe, Rudra's throat changed colour and became dark. From that time Rudra came to be called by the name of Sitikantha. Meanwhile Nara, for the purpose of destroying Rudra, took up a blade of grass, and inspired it with Mantras. The blade of grass, thus inspired, was converted into a mighty battle-axe. Nara suddenly hurled that battle-axe at Rudra but it broke into pieces. In consequence of that weapon thus breaking into pieces, I came to be called by the name of Khandaparasu."[1878] "'Arjuna said, "In that battle capable of bringing about the destruction of the three worlds, who obtained the victory, O Janarddana, do thou tell me this!" "'The blessed and holy one said, "When Rudra and Narayana became thus engaged in battle, all the universe became suddenly filled with anxiety. The deity of fire ceased to accept libations of even the purest clarified butter duly poured in sacrifices with the aid of Vedic Mantras. The Vedas no longer shone by inward light in the minds of the Rishis of cleansed souls. The attributes of Rajas and Tamas possessed the deities. The Earth trembled. The vault of the firmament seemed to divide in twain. All the luminaries became deprived of their splendour. The Creator, Brahman, himself fell from his seat. The Ocean itself became dry. The mountains of Himavat became riven. When such dire omens appeared everywhere, O son of Pandu, Brahma surrounded by all the deities and the high-souled Rishis, soon arrived at that spot where the battle was raging. The four-faced Brahma, capable of being understood with the aid of only the Niruktas, joined his hands and addressing Rudra, said,--'Let good happen to the three worlds. Throw down thy weapons, O lord of the universe, from desire of benefiting the universe. That which is unmanifest, indestructible, immutable, supreme, the origin of the universe, uniform, and the supreme actor, that which transcends all pairs of opposites, and is inactive, has, choosing to be manifested, been pleased to assume this one blessed form, (for though double, the two but represent the same form). This Nara and Narayana (the displayed forms of Supreme Brahman) have taken birth in the race of Dharma. The foremost of all deities, these two are observers of the highest vows and endued with the severest penances. Through some reason best known to Him, I myself have sprung from the attribute of His Grace. Eternal as thou art, for thou hast ever existed since all the past creations, thou too hast sprung from His Wrath. With myself then, these deities, and all the great Rishis, do thou adore this displayed form of Brahma, and let peace be unto all the worlds without any delay.'--Thus addressed by Brahma, Rudra forthwith cast off the fire of his wrath, and set himself to gratify the illustrious and puissant God Narayana.[1879] Indeed, he soon placed himself at the disposal of the adorable boon-giving and puissant God Narayana. That boon-giving God Narayana, who hath his wrath and the senses under control, soon became gratified and reconciled with Rudra. Well-adored by the Rishis, by Brahma, and by all the deities, that great God, the Lord of the universe, otherwise called by the name of Hari, then addressed the illustrious Isana and said these words:--'He that knows thee, knows me. He that follows thee, follows me. There is no difference between thee and me. Do thou never think otherwise. The mark made by thy lance on my chest will from this day assume the form of a beautiful whirl, and the mark of my hand on thy throat will also assume a beautiful shape in consequence of which thou shalt, from this day, be called by the name of Sreekantha.'" "'The blessed and holy one[1880] continued. "Having mutually caused such marks on each other's person, the two Rishis Nara and Narayana thus made friends with Rudra, and dismissing the deities, once more set themselves to the practice of penances with a tranquil soul. I have thus told thee, O son of Pritha, how in that battle which took place in days of yore between Rudra and Narayana, the latter got the victory. I have also told thee the many secret names by which Narayana is called and what the significations are, O Bharata, of one of those names, which, as I have told thee, the Rishis have bestowed upon the great God. In this way, O son of Kunti, assuming diverse forms do I rove at will through the Earth, the region of Brahma himself, and that other high and eternal region of felicity called Goloka. Protected by me in the great battle, thou hast won a great victory. That Being whom, at the time of all thy battles, thou beheldest stalking in thy van, know, O son of Kunti, is no other than Rudra, that god of gods, otherwise called by the name of Kaparddin. He is otherwise known by the name of Kala,[1881] and should be known as one that has sprung from my wrath. Those foes whom thou hast slain were all, in the first instance, slain by him.[1882] Do thou bend thy head unto that god of gods, that lord of Uma, endued with immeasurable puissance. With concentrated soul, do thou bend thy head unto that illustrious Lord of the universe, that indestructible deity, otherwise called by the name of Hari. He is none else than that deity who, as I have repeatedly told thee, has sprung from my wrath. Thou hast, before this, heard, O Dhananjaya, of the puissance and energy that reside in him!"'" SECTION CCCXLIV Saunaka said, "O Sauti, excellent is this narrative which thou hast recited. Verily, these ascetics, having heard it have all been filled with wonder. It is said, O Sauti, that a discourse that has Narayana for its topic, is more fruitful of merit than sojourns unto all the sacred retreats and ablutions performed in all the sacred waters on the Earth. Having listened to this discourse of thine that has Narayana for its topic, that is sacred and capable of cleansing one of every sin, all of us have certainly become holy. Adored of all the worlds, that illustrious and foremost of deities is incapable of being beheld by the deities with Brahma numbering among them and all the Rishis. That Narada was able to obtain a sight of the God Narayana, otherwise called Hari, was due, O son of Suta, to the special grace of that divine and puissant Lord. When, however, the celestial Rishi Narada had succeeded in obtaining a sight of the Supreme Lord of the universe, residing in the form of Aniruddha, why did he again proceed so quickly (to the retreat of Vadari on the breast of Himavat) for beholding those two foremost of godly of Rishis viz., Nara and Narayana? Do you, O Sauti, tell us the reason of such conduct on the part of Narada." Sauti said, "During the continuance of his snake-sacrifice, Janamejaya, the royal son of Parikshit, availing himself of an interval in the sacrificial rites, and when all the learned Brahmanas were resting, O Saunaka, that king of kings, addressed the grandfather of his grandfather, viz., the Island-born Krishna, otherwise called Vyasa, that ocean of Vedic lore, that foremost of ascetics endued with puissance, and said these words. "Janamejaya said, 'After the celestial Rishi Narada had returned from White Island, reflecting, as he came, on the words spoken to him by the holy Narayana, what indeed, did the great ascetic next do? Arrived at the retreat known by the name of Vadari on the breast of the Himvat mountains, and seeing the two Rishis Nara and Narayana who were engaged in severe austerities at that spot, how long did Narada dwell there and what were the topics of conversation between him and the two Rishis? This discourse on Narayana, that is really an ocean of knowledge, has been raised by thy intelligent self by churning that vast history called Bharata which consists of a hundred thousand verses. As butter is raised from curds, sandal-wood from the mountains of Malaya, the Aranyakas from the Vedas, and nectar from all the medicinal herbs, after the same manner, O ocean of austerities, hath this discourse that is like nectar and that has Narayana for its object, been raised by thee, O Brahmana, from diverse histories and Puranas existing in the world. Narayana is the Supreme Lord. Illustrious and endued with great puissance, He is the soul of all creatures. Indeed, O foremost of regenerate ones, the energy of Narayana is irresistible. Into Narayana, at the end of the Kalpa, enter all the deities having Brahman for their foremost, all the Rishis with the Gandharvas, and all things mobile and immobile. I think, therefore, that there is nothing holier on earth or in heaven, and nothing higher, than Narayana. A sojourn unto all the sacred retreats on Earth, and ablutions performed in all the sacred waters, are not productive of as much merit as a discourse that has Narayana for its topic. Having listened from the beginning to this discourse on Hari, the lord of the universe, that destroys all sins, we feel that we have been cleansed of all our sins and sanctified entirely. Nothing wonderful was accomplished by my ancestor Dhananjaya who was the victor in the great battle on Kurukshetra, for it should be remembered that he had Vasudeva for his ally. I think that person could have nothing unattainable in the three worlds, who had for his ally Vishnu himself, that great Lord of the universe. Exceedingly fortunate and commendable were those ancestors of mine, since they had Janarddana himself for looking after their temporal and spiritual prosperity. Adored of all the worlds, the holy Narayana is capable of being beheld with the aid of austerities alone. They, however, succeeded in beholding Narayana, adorned with the beautiful whirl on his chest. More fortunate than my ancestors was the celestial Rishi Narada, the son of Pramesthi. Indeed, I think that Narada, who transcends all destruction, was endued with an energy that was not little, for repairing to White-Island he had succeeded in beholding the person of Hari. Indeed, it is evident that the sight he had obtained of the Supreme Lord was due to only the grace of that Being. Fortunate was Narada inasmuch as he had succeeded in beholding Narayana as existing in the form of Aniruddha. Having beheld Narayana in that form, why did Narada hasten once more to the retreat of Vadari for the purpose of beholding Nara and Narayana? What was the reason, O ascetic, of this step taken by Narada? How long also did Narada the son of Pramesthi, after his return from White Island and arrival at Vadari and meeting with the two Rishis Nara and Narayana, live there, and what conversations had he with them? What did those two high-souled and foremost of Rishis say unto him? It behoveth thee to say all this unto me!'" "Vaisampayana said,[1883] 'Salutations unto the holy Vyasa of immeasurable energy. Through his grace I shall recite this narrative having Narayana for its topic. Arrived at White Island, Narada beheld the immutable Hari. Leaving that spot he quickly proceeded, O king, to the mountains of Meru, bearing in his mind those weighty words that Paramatma (the Supreme Lord) had said unto him. Arrived at Meru he became filled with wonder at the thought, O king, of what he had achieved. And he said unto himself, "How wonderful is it! The journey I have performed is a long one. Having proceeded to such a distance, I have come back safe and sound." From the mountains of Meru he then proceeded towards Gandhamadana. Traversing through the skies he quickly alighted upon that extensive retreat known by the name of Vadari. There he beheld those ancient deities, viz., those two foremost of Rishis, (called Nara and Narayana), engaged in the practice of penances, observing high vows, and devoted to the worship of their own selves. Both of those adorable persons bore on their chests the beautiful whirls called Sreevatsa, and both had matted locks on their heads. And in consequence of the effulgence with which they illumined the world they seemed to transcend the very Sun in energy. The palms of each bore the mark called the swan's foot. The soles of their feet bore the mark of the discus. Their chests were very broad; their arms reached down to their knees. Each of them had four "Mushkas".[1884] Each of them had sixty teeth and four arms.[1885] The voice of each was as deep as the roar of the clouds. Their faces were exceedingly handsome, their foreheads broad, their brows fair, their cheeks well-formed, and their noses aquiline. The heads of those two deities were large and round, resembling open umbrellas. Possessed of these marks, they were certainly very superior persons in appearance. Beholding them, Narada became filled with joy. He saluted them with reverence and was saluted by them in return. They received the celestial Rishi, saying "Welcome", and made the ordinary enquiries. Beholding those two foremost of Beings, Narada began to reflect within himself,--"These two foremost of Rishis seem to be very like, in appearance, unto those Rishis respected by all, whom I have seen in White-island." Thinking in this way, he circumambulated them both and then sat down on the excellent seat made of Kusa grass that had been offered unto him. After this, those two Rishis that were the abode of penances, of famous achievements, and of energy,--and were endued with tranquillity of heart and self-restraint, went through their morning rites. They then, with controlled hearts, worshipped Narada with water to wash his feet and the usual ingredients of the Arghya. Having finished their morning rites and the observances necessary for receiving their guest, they sat down on two seats made of wooden planks.[1886] When those two Rishis took their seats, that place began to shine with peculiar beauty even as the sacrificial altar shines with beauty in consequence of the sacred fires when libations of clarified butter are poured upon them. Then Narayana, seeing Narada refreshed from fatigue and seated at his ease and well-pleased with the rites of hospitality he had received, addressed him, saying these words. "'Nara and Narayana said, "Hast thou seen in White Island the Paramatma (Supreme Soul), who is eternal and divine, and who is the high source whence we have sprung?" "'Narada said, "I have seen that beautiful Being who is immutable and who has the universe for his form. In Him dwell all the worlds, and all the deities with the Rishis. Even now I behold that immutable Being, in beholding you two. Those marks and indications that characterise Hari himself of undisplayed form, characterise you two that are endued with forms displayed before the senses.[1887] Verily, I behold both of you by the side of that great God. Dismissed by the Supreme Soul, I have today come hither. In energy and fame and beauty, who else in the three worlds can equal Him than you two that have been born in the race of Dharma? He has told me the entire course of duties having reference to Kshetrajna. He has also told me of all those incarnations which he will, in the future, have in this world. The inhabitants of White Island, whom I have seen, are all divested of the five senses that are owned by ordinary persons. All of them are of awakened souls, endued as they are with true knowledge. They are, again, entirely devoted to the foremost of Beings, viz., the Supreme Lord of the universe. They are always engaged in worshipping that great Deity, and the latter always sports with them. The holy and Supreme Soul is always fond of those that are devoted to him. He is fond also of the regenerate ones. Always fond of those that are devoted to Him, He sports with those worshippers of His. Enjoyer of the universe, pervading everything, the illustrious Madhava is ever affectionate towards his worshippers. He is the Actor; He is the Cause; and He is the effect. He is endued with omnipotence and immeasurable splendour. He is the Cause whence all things spring. He is the embodiment of all the scriptural ordinances. He is the embodiment of all the topics. He is possessed of great fame. Uniting Himself with penances, He has illumined Himself with a splendour that is said to represent an energy that is higher than (what occurs in) White Island. Of soul cleansed by penances, He has ordained Peace and Tranquillity in the three worlds. With such an auspicious understanding, he is engaged in the observance of a very superior vow which is the embodiment of holiness. That realm where he resides, engaged in the austerest penances, the Sun does not warm and the Moon does not shine. There the wind does not blow. Having constructed an altar measuring eight fingers' breadth, the illustrious Creator of the universe is practising penances there, standing on one foot, with arms upraised, and with face directed towards the East, reciting the Vedas with their branches, he is engaged in practising the severest austerities. Whatever libations of clarified butter or meat are poured on the sacrificial fire according to the ordinances of Brahma, by the Rishis, by Pasupati himself, by the rest of the principal deities, by the Daityas, the Danavas, and the Rakshasas, all reach the feet of that great divinity. Whatever rites and religious acts are performed by persons whose souls are entirely devoted to him, are all received by that great Deity on his head. No one is dearer to him in the three worlds than those persons that are awakened and possessed of high souls. Dearer even than those persons is one that is entirely devoted to him. Dismissed by him who is the Supreme Soul, I am coming here. This is what the illustrious and holy Hari has himself said unto me. I shall henceforth reside with you two, devoted to Narayana in the form of Aniruddha."'" SECTION CCCXLV "'Nara and Narayana said, "Deserving art thou of the highest praise, and highly favoured hast thou been, since thou hast beheld the puissant Narayana himself (in the form of Aniruddha). None else, not even Brahma himself who was sprung from the primal lotus, has been able to behold him. That foremost of Purushas, endued with puissance and holiness, is of unmanifest origin and incapable of being seen. These words that we say unto thee are very true, O Narada. There exists no one in the universe that is dearer to him than one that adores him with devotion. It is for this, O best of regenerate ones, that he showed himself unto thee. No one can repair to that realm where the Supreme Soul is engaged in the observance of penances, except we two, O foremost of regenerate persons. In consequence of that spot being adorned by Him, its splendour resembles the effulgence of a thousands Suns collected together.[1888] From that illustrious Being, O Brahmana, from Him who is the origin of the Creator of the universe, O foremost of all persons endued with forgiveness, springs the attribute of forgiveness which attaches to the Earth.[1889] It is from that illustrious Being who seek the welfare of all beings, that Rasa (Taste) hath arisen. The attribute of Rasa attaches to the waters which are, again, liquid. It is from Him that Heat or Light having the attribute of form or vision has arisen. It attaches itself to the sun in consequence of which the Sun becomes able to shine and give heat. It is from that illustrious and foremost of Beings that Touch also has arisen. It is attached to the Wind, in consequence of which the Wind moves about in the world producing the sensation of touch. It is from that puissant Lord of the entire universe that Sound has arisen. It attaches to Space, which, in consequence thereof, exists uncovered and unconfined. It is from that illustrious Being that Mind, which pervades all Beings, has arisen. It attaches to Chandramas, in consequence of which Chandramas comes to be invested with the attribute of displaying all the things. That spot where the divine Narayana, that partaker of the libations and other offerings made in sacrifices, resides with Knowledge alone for his companion, has in the Vedas, been called by the name of the productive cause of all things or Sat.[1890] The path that is theirs, O foremost of regenerate persons, that are stainless and that are freed from both virtue and sin, is fraught with auspiciousness and felicity. Aditya, who is the dispeller of the darkness of all the worlds, is said to be the door (through which the Emancipate must pass). Entering Aditya, the bodies of such persons become consumed by his fire. They then become invisible for after that they cannot be seen by anybody at any time. Reduced into invisible atoms, they then enter (Narayana in manifested form and residing in the middle of the region covered by Aditya) into the form of Aniruddha. Losing all physical attributes and being altogether and transformed into Mind alone, they then enter into Pradyumna. Passing out of Pradyumna, those foremost of regenerate persons, including both those that are conversant with Sankhya philosophy and those that are devoted to the Supreme deity, then enter Sankarsana who is otherwise called Jiva. After this, divested of the three primal attributes of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas, those foremost of regenerate beings quickly enter the Paramatma (Supreme Soul) otherwise called Kshetrajna and which itself transcends the three primal attributes. Know that Vasudeva is He when called Kshetrajna. Verily shouldst thou know that, that Vasudeva is the abode or original refuge of all things in the universe. Only they whose minds are concentrated, who are observant of all kinds of restraint, whose senses are controlled, and who are devoted to One, succeed in entering Vasudeva. We two, O foremost of regenerate ones, have taken birth in the house of Dharma. Residing in this delightful and spacious retreat we are undergoing the austerest penances. We are thus engaged, O regenerate one, being moved by the desire of benefiting those manifestations of the Supreme Deity, dear to all the celestials, that will occur in the three worlds (for achieving diverse feats that are incapable of being achieved by any other Being). In accordance with such ordinances as are uncommon and as apply to us two only, O best of regenerate persons, we are duly observing all excellent and high vows fraught with the austerest penances. Thou, O celestial Rishi, endued with wealth of penances wert beheld by us in White Island when thou wert there. Having met with Narayana, thou hast made a particular resolution, which is known to us. In the three worlds consisting of mobile and immobile Beings, there is nothing that is unknown to us. Of good or evil that will occur or has occurred or is occurring, that God of gods, O great ascetic, has informed thee!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'Having heard these words of Nara and Narayana both of whom were engaged in the practice of the austerest penances, the celestial Rishi Narada joined his hands in reverence and became entirely devoted to Narayana. He employed his time in mentally reciting, with due observances, innumerable sacred Mantras that are approved by Narayana. Worshipping the Supreme Deity Narayana, and adoring those two ancient Rishis also that had taken birth in the house of Dharma, the illustrious Rishi Narada, endued with great energy, continued to reside, thus employed, in that retreat, called Vadari, on the breast of Himavat, belonging to Nara and Narayana, for a thousand years as measured by the standard of the celestials.'" SECTION CCCXLVI "Vaisampayana said, 'On one occasion, while residing in the retreat of Nara and Narayana, Narada the son of Pramesthi, having duly accomplished the rites and observances in honour of the deities, set himself to perform thereafter the rites in honour of the Pitris. Beholding him thus prepared, the eldest son of Dharma, viz., the puissant Nara addressed him, saying, "Whom art thou worshipping, O foremost of regenerate persons, by these rites and observances in connection with the deities and the Pitris? O foremost of all persons endued with intelligence, tell me this, agreeably to the scriptures. What is this that thou art doing? What also are the fruits desired by thee of those rites thou hast addrest thyself in performing?" "'Narada said, "Thou saidst unto me on a former occasion that rites and observances in honour of the deities should be accomplished. Thou saidst that the rites in honour of the deities constitute the highest sacrifice and are equivalent to the worship of the eternal Supreme Soul. Instructed by that teaching, I always sacrifice in honour of the eternal and immutable Vishnu, through these rites that I perform in worshipping the deities. It is from that Supreme Deity that Brahma, the Grandsire of all the worlds, took his rise in days of yore. That Brahma, otherwise called Prameshthi, filled with cheerfulness, caused my sire (Daksha) to start into being. I was the son of Brahma, created before all others, by a fiat of his will (although I had to take birth afterwards as the son of Daksha through a curse of that Rishi). O righteous and illustrious one, I am performing these rites in honour of the Pitris for the sake of Narayana, and agreeable to those ordinances that have been laid down by himself. The illustrious Narayana is the father, mother, and grandfather (of all creatures). In all sacrifices performed in honour of the Pitris, it is that Lord of the universe who is adored and worshipped. On one occasion, the deities, who were sires, taught their children the Srutis. Having lost their knowledge of the Srutis, the sires had to acquire it again from those sons unto whom they had communicated it. In consequence of this incident, the sons, who had thus to communicate the Mantras unto their sires, acquired the status of sires (and the sire, for having obtained the Mantras from their sons, acquired the status of sons).[1891] Without doubt, what the deities did on that occasion is well known to you two. Sons and sires (on that occasion) had thus to worship each other. Having first spread some blades of Kusa grass, the deities and the Pitris (who were their children) placed three Pindas thereon and in this way worshipped each other. I wish to know, however, the reason why the Pitris in days of yore acquired the name of Pindas." "'Nara and Narayana said, "The Earth, in days of yore, with her belt of seas, disappeared from the view. Govinda, assuming the form of a gigantic boar, raised her up (with his mighty tusk). Having replaced the Earth in her former position, that foremost of Purushas, his body smeared with water and mud, set himself to do what was necessary for the world and its denizens. When the sun reached the meridian, and the hour, therefore, came for saying the morning prayers, the puissant Lord, suddenly shaking off three balls of mud from his tusk, placed them upon the Earth, O Narada, having previously spread thereon certain blades of grass. The puissant Vishnu dedicated those balls of mud unto his own self, according to the rites laid down in the eternal ordinance. Regarding the three balls of mud that the puissant Lord had shaken off from his tusks as Pindas, he then, with sesame seeds of oily kernel that arose from the heat of his own body, himself performed the rite of dedication, sitting with face turned towards the East. That foremost of deities then, impelled by the desire of establishing rules of conduct for the denizens of the three worlds, said these words: "'"Vrishakapi said, 'I and the Creator of the worlds. I am resolved to create those that are to be called Pitris.'--Saying these words, he began to think of those high ordinances that should regulate the rites to be gone through in honour of the Pitris. While thus engaged, he saw that the three balls of mud, shaken off his tusk, had fallen towards the South. He then said unto himself,--'These balls, shaken off my tusk, have fallen on the Earth towards the southern direction of her surface. Led by this, I declare that these should be known henceforth by the name of Pitris. Let these three that are of no particular shape, and that are only round, come to be regarded as Pitris in the world. Even thus do I create the eternal Pitris. I am the father, the grandfather, and the great grandfather, and I should be regarded as residing in these three Pindas. There is no one that is superior to me. Who is there whom I myself may worship or adore with rites? Who, again, is my sire in the universe? I myself am my grandfather. I am, indeed, the Grandsire and the Sire. I am the one cause (of all the universe).'--Having said these words, that God of gods, Vrishakapi by name, offered those Pindas, O learned Brahmana, on the breast of the Varaha mountains, with elaborate rites. By those rites He worshipped His own self, and having finished the worship, disappeared there and then. Hence have the Pitris come to be called by the name of Pinda. Even this is the foundation of the designation. Agreeably to the words uttered by Vrishakapi on that occasion, the Pitris receive the worship offered by all. They who perform sacrifices in honour of and adore the Pitris, the deities, the preceptor or other reverend senior guests arrived at the house, kine, superior Brahmanas, the goddess Earth, and their mothers, in thought, word, and deed, are said to adore and sacrifice unto Vishnu himself. Pervading the bodies of all existent creatures, the illustrious Lord is the Soul of all things. Unmoved by happiness or misery, His attitude towards all is equal. Endued with greatness, and of great soul, Narayana has been said to be the soul of all things in the universe."'" SECTION CCCXLVII "Vaisampayana said, 'Having heard these words of Nara and Narayana, the Rishi Narada became filled with devotion towards the Supreme Being. Indeed, with his whole soul he devoted himself to Narayana. Having resided for a full thousand years in the retreat of Nara and Narayana, having beheld the immutable Hari, and heard the excellent discourse having Narayana for its topic, the celestial Rishi repaired to his own retreat on the breast of Himavat. Those foremost of ascetics viz., Nara and Narayana, however continued to reside in their delightful retreat of Vadari, engaged in the practice of the severest austerities. Thou art born in the race of the Pandavas. Thou art of immeasurable energy. O perpetuator of the race of the Pandavas, having listened to this discourse on Narayana from the beginning, thou hast certainly been cleansed of all thy sins and thy soul has been sanctified. His is neither this world nor the world hereafter, O best of kings, who hates instead of loving and reverencing the immutable Hari. The ancestors of that person who hates Narayana, who is the foremost of deities, and is otherwise called Hari, sink into hell for eternity. O tiger among men, Vishnu is the soul of all beings. How, then, can Vishnu be hated, for in hating him one would hate one's own self. He who is our preceptor, viz., the Rishi Vyasa, the son of Gandhavati, has himself recited this discourse unto us on the glory of Narayana, that glory which is the highest and which is immutable. I heard it from him and have recited it to thee exactly as I heard it, O sinless one. This cult, with its mysteries and its abstract of details, was obtained by Narada, O king, from that Lord of the universe, viz., Narayana himself. Even such are the particulars of this great cult. I have, before this, O foremost of kings, explained it to thee in the Hari-Gita, with a brief reference to its ordinances.[1892] Know that the Island-born Krishna, otherwise called Vyasa, is Narayana on Earth. Who else than he, O tiger among kings, could compile such a treatise as the Mahabharata? Who else than that puissant Rishi could discourse upon the diverse kinds of duties and cults for the observance and adoption of men? Thou hast resolved upon performing a great sacrifice. Let that sacrifice of thine proceed as determined by thee. Having listened to the diverse kinds of duties and cults, let thy Horse-sacrifice go on.'" Sauti continued, "That best of kings, having heard this great discourse, began all those rites that are laid down in the ordinance, for the completion of his great sacrifice. Questioned by thee, O Saunaka, I have duly recited to thee and all these Rishis that are denizens of the Naimisha forest, that great discourse having Narayana for its topic. Formerly Narada had recited it to my preceptor in the hearing of many Rishis and the sons of Pandu and in the presence of Krishna and Bhishma also.[1893] The Supreme deity Narayana is the Lord of all the foremost of Rishis, and of the three worlds. He is the upholder of Earth herself of vast proportions. He is the receptacle of the Srutis and of the attribute of humility. He is the great receptacle of all those ordinances that should be practised for attaining to tranquillity of heart, as also of all those that go by the name of Yama. He is always accompanied by the foremost of regenerate persons. Let that great deity be thy refuge. Hari ever does what is agreeable and beneficial to the denizens of heaven. He is always the slayer of such Asuras (as become troublesome to the three worlds). He is the receptacle of penances. He is possessed of great fame. He is the slayer of the Daityas known by the name of Madhu and Kaitabha. He is the ordainer of the ends that are attained to by persons acquainted with and observant of scriptural and other duties. He dispels the fears of all persons. He takes the foremost of those offerings that are dedicated in sacrifices. He is thy refuge and protection. He is endued with attributes. He is freed from attributes. He is endued with a quadruple form. He shares the merits arising from the dedication of tanks and the observance of similar religious rites. Unvanquished and possessed of great might, it is He that always ordains the end approachable by the Soul alone, of Rishis of righteous deeds. He is the witness of the worlds. He is unborn. He is the one ancient Purusha. Endued with the complexion of the Sun, He is the Supreme Lord, and he is the refuge of all. Do all of you bow your heads unto Him since He who sprang from the waters (viz., Narayana himself) bends his head unto Him.[1894] He is the origin of the universe. He is that Being who is called Amrita. He is minute. He is the refuge upon whom all things depend. He is the one Being to whom the attribute of immutability attaches. The Sankhyas and Yogins, of restrained souls, hold Him who is eternal in their understandings." SECTION CCCXLVIII Janamejaya [sic] said, "I have heard from thee the glory of the divine and Supreme Soul. I have heard also of the birth of the Supreme Deity in the house of Dharma, in the form of Nara and Narayana. I have also heard from thee the origin of the Pinda from the mighty Baraha (Boar) (which form the supreme Deity had assumed for raising by the submerged Earth). I have heard from thee about those deities and Rishis that were ordained for the religion of Pravritti and of those that were ordained for the religion of Nivritti. Thou hast also, O regenerate one, discoursed to us on other topics. Thou hast said also unto us of that vast form, with the Equine head, of Vishnu, that partaker of the libations and other offerings made in sacrifices,--the form, viz., that appeared in the great ocean on the North-East. That form was beheld by the illustrious Brahman, otherwise known by the name of Parameshthi. What, however, were the exact features, and what the energy, the like of which among all great objects, had never appeared before, of that form which Hari, the upholder of the universe, displayed on that occasion? What did Brahman do, O ascetic, after having seen that foremost of deities, him whose likeness had never been seen before, him who was of immeasurable energy, him who had the Equine head, and him who was Sacredness itself? O regenerate one, this doubt hath arisen in our mind about this ancient subject of knowledge. O thou of foremost intelligence, for what reason did the supreme Deity assume that form and display himself in it unto Brahman? Thou hast certainly sanctified us by discoursing unto us on these diverse sacred subjects!"[1895] Sauti said, "I shall recite to thee that ancient history, which is perfectly consistent with the Vedas, and which the illustrious Vaisampayana recited unto the son of Parikshit on the occasion of the great Snake-sacrifice. Having heard the account of the mighty form of Vishnu, equipt with the horse-head, the royal son of Parikshit too had entertained the same doubt and put the same questions to Vaisampayana. "Janamejaya said, 'Tell me, O best of men, for what reason did Hari appear in that mighty form equipt with a horse-head and which Brahma, the Creator, beheld on the shores of the great northern Ocean on the occasion referred to by yourself?' "Vaisampayana said, 'All existent objects, O king, in this world, are the result of a combination of the five primal elements, a combination due to the intelligence of the Supreme Lord. The puissant Narayana, endued with infinity, is the supreme Lord and Creator of the universe. He is the inner Soul of all things, and the giver of boons. Divested of attributes, he is again possessed of them. Listen now, O best of kings, to me as I narrate to thee how the Destruction is brought about of all things. At first, the element of Earth becomes merged in Water and nothing then is seen save one vast expanse of Water on all sides. Water then merges into Heat, and Heat into Wind. Wind then merges into Space, which in its turn, merges into Mind. Mind merges into the Manifest (otherwise called Consciousness or Ego). The Manifest merges into the Unmanifest (or Prakriti). The Unmanifest (or Prakriti) merges into Purusha (Jivatman) and Purusha merges into the Supreme Soul (or Brahman). Then Darkness spreads over the face of the universe, and nothing can be perceived. From that primal Darkness arises Brahma (endued with the principle of Creation). Darkness is primeval and fraught with immortality. Brahma that arises from primeval Darkness develops (by its own potency) into the idea of the universe, and assumes the form of Purusha. Such Purusha is called Aniruddha. Divested of sex, it is called otherwise by the name of Pradhana (Supreme or Primary). That is also known by the name of Manifest, or the combination of the triple attribute, O best of kings. He exists with Knowledge alone for his companion. That illustrious and puissant Being is otherwise called by the name of Viswaksena or Hari. Yielding to Yoga-sleep, he lays himself down on the waters. He then thinks of the Creation of the Universe of diversified phenomena and fraught with immeasurable attributes. While engaged in thinking of Creation, he recollects his own high attributes. From this springs the four-faced Brahma representing the Consciousness of Anirudha. The illustrious Brahma, otherwise called Hiranyagarbha, is the Grandsire of all the worlds. Endued with eyes like lotus petals, he takes birth within the Lotus that springs from (the navel of) Anirudha. Seated on that Lotus, the illustrious, puissant, and eternal Brahma of wonderful aspect saw that the waters were on all sides. Adopting the attribute of Sattwa Brahma, otherwise called Parameshthi, then commenced to create the universe. In the primeval Lotus that was endued with the effulgence of the Sun, two drops of water had been cast by Narayana that were fraught with great merit. The illustrious Narayana, without beginning and without end, and transcending destruction, cast his eyes on those two drops of water. One of those two drops of water, of very beautiful and bright form, looked like a drop of honey. From that drop sprang, at the command of Narayana, a Daitya of the name of Madhu made up of the attribute of Tamas (Dullness). The other drop of water within the Lotus was very hard. From it sprang the Daitya Kaitabha made up of the attribute of Rajas. Endued thus with the attributes of Tamas and Rajas, the two Daityas possessed of might and armed with maces, immediately after their birth, began to rove within that vast primeval Lotus. They beheld within it Brahma of immeasurable effulgence, engaged in creating the four Vedas, each endued with the most delightful form. Those two foremost of Asuras, possessed of bodies, beholding the four Vedas, suddenly seized them in the very sight of their Creator. The two mighty Danavas, having seized the eternal Vedas, quickly dived into the ocean of waters which they saw and proceeded to its bottom. Seeing the Vedas forcibly taken away from him, Brahma became filled with grief. Robbed of the Vedas in this way, Brahma then addressed the Supreme Lord in these words. "'Brahma said, "The Vedas are my great eyes. The Vedas are my great strength. The Vedas are my great refuge. The Vedas are my high Brahman. All the Vedas, however, have been forcibly taken away from me by the two Danavas. Deprived of the Vedas, the worlds I have created have become enveloped in darkness. Without the Vedas (beside me), how shall I succeed in causing my excellent Creation to start into existence? Alas, great is the grief I suffer in consequence of the loss of the Vedas (through such agency). My heart is very much pained. It has become the abode of a great sorrow. Who is there that will rescue me from this ocean of grief in which I am sunk for the loss I have endured? Who is there that will bring me the Vedas I have lost? Who is there that will take compassion on me?"--While Brahma was uttering these words, O best of kings, the resolution suddenly arose in his mind, O foremost of intelligent persons, for hymning the praises of Hari in these words. The puissant Brahma then, with hands joined in reverence, and seizing the feet of his progenitor, sang this highest of hymns in honour of Narayana. "'Brahma said, "I bow to thee, O heart of Brahman. I bow to thee that hast been born before me. Thou art the origin of the universe. Thou art the foremost of all abodes. Thou, O puissant one, art the ocean of Yoga with all its branches. Thou art the Creator of both what is Manifest and what is Unmanifest. Thou treadest along the path whose auspiciousness is of inconceivable extent. Thou art the consumer of the universe. Thou art the Antaralock (Inner Soul) of all creatures. Thou art without any origin. Thou art the refuge of the universe. Thou art self-born; for origin thou hast none that is not thyself. As regards myself, I have sprung through thy Grace. From thee have I derived my birth. My first birth from thee, which is regarded sacred by all regenerate persons, was due to a fiat of thy Mind. My second birth in days of yore was from thy eyes. Through thy Grace, my third birth was from thy speech. My fourth birth, O puissant Lord, was from thy ears. My fifth birth, excellent in all respects, was from thy nose, O Lord. My sixth birth was, through thee, from an egg. This is my seventh birth. It has occurred, O Lord, within this Lotus, and it is meant to stimulate the intellect and desires of all the beings. At each Creation I take birth from thee as thy son, O thou that art divested of the three attributes. Indeed, O lotus-eyed one, I take birth as thy eldest son, made up of Sattwa the foremost of three attributes. Thou art endued with that nature which is Supreme. Thou springest from thyself. I have been created by thee. The Vedas are my eyes. Hence, I transcend Time itself. Those Vedas, which constitute my eyes, have been taken away from me. I have, therefore, become blind. Do Thou awake from this Yoga-sleep. Give me back my eyes. I am dear to thee and thou art dear to me." Thus praised by Brahma, the illustrious Purusha, with face turned towards every side, then shook off his slumber, resolved to recover the Vedas (from the Daityas that had forcibly snatched them away). Applying his Yoga-puissance, he assumed a second form. His body, equipt with an excellent nose, became as bright as the Moon. He assumed an equine head of great effulgence, which was the abode of the Vedas. The firmament, with all its luminaries and constellations, became the crown of his head. His locks of hair were long and flowing, and had the splendour of the rays of the Sun. The regions above and below became his two ears. The Earth became his forehead. The two rivers Ganga and Saraswati became his two hips. The two oceans became his two eye-brows. The Sun and the Moon became his two eyes. The twilight became his nose. The syllable Om became his memory and intelligence. The lightning became his tongue. The Soma-drinking Pitris became, it is said, his teeth. The two regions of felicity, viz., Goloka and Brahmaloka, became his upper and lower lips. The terrible night that succeeds universal destruction, and that transcends the three attributes, became his neck. Having assumed this form endued with the equine head and having diverse things for its diverse limbs, the Lord of the universe disappeared then and there, and proceeded to the nether regions. Having reached those regions, he set himself to high Yoga. Adopting a voice regulated by the rules of the science called Siksha, he began to utter loudly Vedic Mantras. His pronunciation was distinct and reverberated through the air, and was sweet in every respect. The sound of his voice filled the nether region from end to end. Endued with the properties of all the elements, it was productive of great benefits. The two Asuras, making an appointment with the Vedas in respect of the time when they would come back to take them up again, threw them down in the nether region, and ran towards the spot whence those sounds appeared to come. Meanwhile, O king, the Supreme Lord with the equine head, otherwise called Hari, who was himself in the nether region, took up all the Vedas. Returning to where Brahma was staying, he gave the Vedas unto him. Having restored the Vedas unto Brahma, the Supreme Lord once more returned to his own nature. The Supreme Lord also established his form with the equine head in the North-Eastern region of the great ocean. Having (in this way) established him who was the abode of the Vedas, he once more became the equine-headed form that he was.[1896] The two Danavas Madhu and Kaitabha, not finding the person from whom those sounds proceeded, quickly came back to that spot. They cast their eyes around but beheld that the spot on which they had thrown the Vedas was empty. Those two foremost of mighty Beings, adopting great speed of motion, rose from the nether region. Returning to where the primeval Lotus was that had given them birth, they saw the puissant Being, the original Creator, staying in the form of Aniruddha of fair complexion and endued with a splendour resembling that of the Moon. Of immeasurable prowess, he was under the influence of Yoga-sleep, his body stretched on the waters and occupying a space as vast as itself. Possessed of great effulgence and endued with the attribute of stainless Sattwa, the body of the Supreme Lord lay on the excellent hood of a snake that seemed to emit flames of fire for the resplendence attaching to it. Beholding the Lord thus lying, the two foremost of Danavas roared out a loud laugh. Endued with the attributes of Rajas and Tamas, they said.--"This is that Being of white complexion. He is now lying asleep. Without doubt, this one has brought the Vedas away from the nether region. Whose is he? Whose is he? Who is he? Why is he thus asleep on the hood of a snake?" Uttering these words, the two Danavas awakened Hari from his Yoga-slumber. The foremost of Beings, (viz., Narayana), thus awakened, understood that the two Danavas intended to have an encounter with him in battle. Beholding the two foremost of Asuras prepared to do battle with him, he also set his mind to gratify that desire of theirs. Thereupon an encounter took place between those two on one side and Narayana on the other. The Asuras Madhu and Kaitabha were embodiments of the attributes of Rajas and Tamas. Narayana slew them both for gratifying Brahma. He thence came to be called by the name of Madhusudana (slayer of Madhu). Having compassed the destruction of the two Asuras and restored the Vedas to Brahma, the Supreme Being dispelled the grief of Brahma. Aided then by Hari and assisted by the Vedas, Brahma created all the worlds with their mobile and immobile creatures. After this, Hari, granting unto the Grandsire intelligence of the foremost order relating to the Creation, disappeared there and then for going to the place he had come from. It was thus that Narayana, having assumed the form equipt with the horse-head, slew the two Danavas Madhu and Kaitabha (and disappeared from the sight of Brahma). Once more, however, he assumed the same form for the sake of causing the religion of Pravritti to flow in the universe. "'Thus did the blessed Hari assume in days of old that grand form having the equine head. This, of all his forms, endued with puissance, is celebrated as the most ancient. That person who frequently listens or mentally recites this history of the assumption by Narayana of the form equipt with the equine head, will never forget his Vedic or other lore. Having adored with the austerest penances the illustrious deity with the equine head, the Rishi Panchala (otherwise known as Galava) acquired the science of Krama by proceeding along the path pointed out by the deity (Rudra).[1897] I have thus recited to thee, O king the old story of Hayasiras, consistent with the Vedas about which thou hadst asked me. Whatever forms, the Supreme Deity desires to assume with a view to ordaining the various affairs of the universe, he assumes those forms immediately within himself by exercise of his own inherent powers. The Supreme Deity, endued with every prosperity, is the receptacle of the Vedas. He is the receptacle of Penances also. The puissant Hari is Yoga. He is the embodiment of the Sankhya philosophy. He is that Para Brahman of which we hear. Truth has Narayana for its refuge. Rita has Narayana for its soul. The religion of Nivritti, in which there is no return, has Narayana for its high abode. The other religion which has Pravritti for its basis, has equally Narayana for its soul. The foremost of all the attributes that belong to the element of Earth is scent. Scent has Narayana for its soul. The attributes of Water, O king, are called the Tastes (of the various kinds). These Tastes have Narayana for their soul. The foremost attribute of Light is form. Form also has Narayana for its soul. Touch, which is the attribute of Wind, is also said to have Narayana for its soul. Sound, which is an attribute of space, has like the others, Narayana for its soul. Mind also, which is the attribute of the unmanifest (Prakriti), has Narayana for its soul. Time which is computed by the motion of the celestial luminaries has similarly Narayana for its soul. The presiding deities of Fame, of Beauty, and of Prosperity have the same Supreme Deity for their soul. Both the Sankhya philosophy and Yoga have Narayana for their soul. The Supreme Being is the cause of all this, as Purusha. He is, again the cause of everything, as Pradhana (or Prakriti). He is Swabhaba (the basis on which all things rest). He is the doer or agent, and is the cause of that variety that is witnessed in the universe. He is the diverse kinds of energy that act in the universe. In these five ways he is that all-controlling invisible influence of which people speak. Those employed in investigating the several topics of enquiry with the aid of such reasons as are of wide application, regard Hari to be identical with the five reasons adverted to above and as the final refuge of all things. Indeed, the puissant Narayana, endued with the highest Yoga puissance, is the one topic (of enquiry). The thoughts of the denizen of all the worlds including Brahma and the high-souled Rishis, of those that are Sankhyas and Yogins, of those that are Yatis, and of those, generally, that are conversant with the Soul are fully known to Kesava, but none of these can know what his thoughts are. Whatever acts are performed in honour of the gods or the Pitris, whatever gifts are made, whatever penances are performed, have Vishnu for their refuge,--who is established upon his own supreme ordinances. He is named Vasudeva because of his being the abode of all creatures. He is immutable. He is Supreme. He is the foremost of Rishis. He is endued with the highest puissance. He is said to transcend the three attributes. As Time (which runs smoothly without any sign) assumes indications when it manifests itself in the form of successive seasons, even so He, though really divested of attributes (for manifesting Himself). Even they that are high-souled do not succeed in understanding his motions. Only those foremost of Rishis that have knowledge of their Souls, succeed in beholding in their hearts that Purusha who transcends all attributes.'" SECTION CCCXLIX "Janamejaya said, 'The illustrious Hari becomes gracious unto them that are devoted to him with their whole souls. He accepts also all worship that is offered to Him agreeably to the ordinance. Of those persons that have burnt off their fuel,[1898] and that are divested of both merit and demerit, that have attained the Knowledge as handed down from preceptor to preceptor--such persons always attain to that end which is called the fourth, viz., the essence of the Purushottama or Vasudeva,[1899]--through the three others. Those persons, however, that are devoted to Narayana with their whole souls at once attain to the highest end[1900] Without doubt, the religion of devotion seems to be superior (to that of Knowledge) and is very dear to Narayana. These, without going through the three successive stages (of Aniruddha, Pradyumna, and Sankarshana), at once attain to the immutable Hari. The end that is attained by Brahmanas, who, attending to due observances, study the Vedas with the Upanishads according to the rules laid down for regulating such study, and by those that adopt the religion of Yatis, is inferior, I think, to that attained by persons devoted to Hari with their whole souls. Who first promulgated this religion of Devotion? Was it some deity or some Rishi that declared it? What are the practices of those that are said to be devoted with their whole souls? When did those practices begin? I have doubts on these topics. Do thou remove those doubts. Great is my curiosity to hear thee explain the several points.'[1901] "Vaisampayana said, 'When the diverse divisions of the Pandava and the Kuru armies were drawn up in the array for the battle and when Arjuna became cheerless, the holy one himself explained the question of what is the end and what is not the end attained by persons of different characters. I have before this recited to thee the words of the holy one. The religion preached by the holy one on that occasion is difficult of comprehension. Men of uncleansed souls cannot apprehend it at all. Having created this religion in days of yore, viz., in the Krita age, in perfect consonance with the Samans, it is borne, O king, by the Supreme Lord, viz., Narayana, himself. This very topic was raised by the highly blessed Partha to Narada (for the latter's discourse) in the midst of the Rishis and in the presence of Krishna and Bhishma. My preceptor, viz., the Island-born Krishna heard what Narada said. Receiving it from the celestial Rishis, O best of kings, my preceptor imparted it to me in exactly the same way in which he had obtained it from the celestial Rishi. I shall now recite it to thee, O monarch, in the same way as it has been received from Narada. Listen, therefore, to me. In that Kalpa when Brahma the Creator, O king, took his birth in the mind of Narayana and issued from the latter's mouth, Narayana himself performed, O Bharata, his Daiva and Paitra rites in accordance with this religion. Those Rishis that subsist upon the froth of water then obtained it from Narayana. From the froth-eating Rishis, this religion was obtained by those Rishis that go by the name of Vaikanasas. From the Vaikanasas, Shoma got it. Afterwards, it disappeared from the universe. After the second birth of Brahma, viz., when he sprang from the eyes of Narayana, O king, the Grandsire (that is, Brahma) then received this religion from Shoma. Having received it thus, Brahma imparted this religion, which has Narayana for its soul, unto Rudra. In the Krita age of that ancient Kalpa, Rudra, devoted to Yoga, O monarch, communicated it to all those Rishis that are known by the name of Valikhilyas. Through the illusion of Narayana, it once more disappeared from the universe. In the third birth of Brahma, which was due to the speech of Narayana, this religion once more sprang up, O king, from Narayana himself. Then a Rishi of the name of Suparna obtained it from that foremost of Beings. The Rishi Suparna used to recite this excellent religion, this foremost of cults, three times during the day. In consequence of this, it came to be called by the name of Trisauparna in the world. This religion has been referred to in the Rigveda. The duties it inculcates are exceedingly difficult of observance. From the Rishi Suparna, this eternal religion was obtained, O foremost of men, by the God of wind, that sustainer of the lives of all creatures in the universe. The God of wind communicated it unto such Rishis as subsist upon what remains of sacrificial offerings after feeding guests and others. From those Rishis this excellent religion was obtained by the Great Ocean. It once more disappeared from the universe and became merged into Narayana. In the next birth of the high-souled Brahman when he sprang from the ear of Narayana, listen, O chief of men, to what happened in that Kalpa. The illustrious Narayana, otherwise called Hari, when he resolved upon Creation, thought of a Being who would be puissant enough to create the universe. While thinking of this, a Being sprang from his ears competent to create the universe. The Lord of all called him by the name of Brahma. Addressing Brahma, the Supreme Narayana said unto him,--"Do thou, O son, create all kinds of creatures from thy mouth and feet. O thou of excellent vows, I shall do what will be beneficial for thee, for I shall impart to thee both energy and strength sufficient to render thee competent for this task. Do thou receive also from me this excellent religion known by the name of Sattwata. Aided by that religion do thou create the Krita age and ordain it duly." Thus addressed, Brahma bowed his head unto the illustrious Hari, the god of the gods and received from him that foremost of all cults with all its mysteries and its abstract of details, together with the Aranyakas,--viz., that cult, which sprang from the mouth of Narayana. Narayana then instructed Brahma of immeasurable energy in that cult, and addressing him, said,--"Thou art the creator of the duties that are to be observed in the respective Yugas." Having said this unto Brahma, Narayana disappeared and proceeded to that spot which is beyond the reach of Tamas, where the Unmanifest resides, and which is known by the men of acts without desire of fruits. After this, the boon-giving Brahma, the Grandsire of the worlds, created the different worlds with their mobile and immobile creatures. The age that first commenced was highly auspicious and came to be called by the name of Krita. In that age, the religion of Sattwa existed, pervading the entire universe.[1902] With the aid of that primeval religion of righteousness, Brahma, the Creator of all the worlds, worshipped the Lord of all the deities, viz., the puissant Narayana, otherwise called Hari. Then for the spread of that religion and desirous of benefiting the worlds, Brahman instructed that Manu who is known by the name of Swarochish in that cult. Swarochish-Manu, that Lord of all the worlds, that foremost of all persons endued with puissance, then cheerfully imparted the knowledge of that cult to his own son, O king, who was known by the name of Sankhapada. The son of Manu, viz., Sankhapada, communicated the knowledge of that to his own son Suvarnabha who was the Regent of the cardinal and subsidiary points of the compass. When, upon the expiration of the Kriti Yuga, the Treta came, that cult once more disappeared from the world. In a subsequent birth of Brahman, O best of kings, viz., that which was derived from the nose of Narayana, O Bharata, the illustrious and puissant Narayana or Hari with eyes like lotus petals, himself sang this religion in the presence of Brahma. Then the son of Brahma, created by a fiat of his will, viz., Sanatkumara, studied this cult. From Sanatkumara, the Prajapati Virana, in the beginning of the Krita age, O tiger among Kurus, obtained this cult. Virana having studied it in this way, taught it to the ascetic Raivya. Raivya, in his turn, imparted it to his son of pure soul, good vows, and great intelligence, viz., Kukshi, that righteous Regent of the cardinal and subsidiary points of the compass. After this, that cult, born of the mouth of Narayana, once more disappeared from the world. In the next birth of Brahma, viz., that which he was derived from an egg which sprang from Hari, this cult once more issued from the mouth of Narayana. It was received by Brahma, O king, and practised duly in all its details by him. Brahma then communicated it, O monarch, to those Rishis that are known by the name of Varhishada. From the Varhishadas it was obtained by a Brahmana well-versed in the Sama-Veda, and known by the name of Jeshthya. And because he was well-versed with the Samans, therefore was he known also by the name of Jeshthya-Samavrata Hari.[1903] From the Brahmana known by the name of Jeshthya, this cult was obtained by a king of the name of Avikampana. After this, that cult, derived from the puissant Hari, once more disappeared from the world. During the seventh birth of Brahma due to the lotus, O king, that sprang from the navel of Narayana, this cult was once more declared by Narayana himself, unto the Grandsire of pure soul, the Creator of all the worlds, in the beginning of this Kalpa. The Grandsire gave it in days of yore to Daksha (one of his sons created by a fiat of his will). Daksha, in his turn, imparted it to the eldest of all the sons of his daughters, O monarch, viz., Aditya who is senior in age to Savitri. From Aditya, Vivaswat obtained it. In the beginning of the Treta Yuga, Vivaswat imparted the knowledge of this cult to Manu. Manu, for the protection and support of all the worlds, then gave it to his son Ikshaku.[1904] Promulgated by Ikshaku, that cult over-spreads the whole world. When the universal destruction comes, it will once more return to Narayana and be merged in Him. The religion which is followed and practised by the Yatis, has, O best of kings, been narrated to thee before this in the Hari Gita, with all its ordinances in brief. The celestial Rishi Narada got it from that Lord of universe, viz., Narayana himself, O king, with all its mysteries and abstract of details. Thus, O monarch, this foremost of cults is primeval and eternal. Incapable of being comprehended with ease and exceedingly difficult of being practised, it is always upheld by persons wedded to the attribute of Sattwa. It is by means of acts that are well-performed and accomplished with a full knowledge of duties and in which there is nothing of injury to any creature,--that Hari the Supreme Lord becomes gratified. Some persons adore Narayana as possessed of only one form, viz., that of Aniruddha. Some adore Him as endued with two forms, viz., that of Aniruddha and Pradyumna. Some adore Him as having three forms, viz., Aniruddha, Pradyumna, and Sankarshana. A fourth class adore him as consisting of four forms, viz., Aniruddha, Pradyumna, Sankarshana, and Vasudeva. Hari is Himself the Kshetrajna (Soul). He is without parts (being ever full). He is the Jiva in all creatures, transcending the five primal elements. He is the Mind, O monarch, that directs and controls the five senses. Endued with the highest intelligence, He is the Ordainer of the universe, and the Creator thereof. He is both active and inactive. He is both Cause and the Effect. He is the one immutable Purusha, who sports as He likes, O king. Thus have I recited to thee the religion of desireless Devotees, O best of kings, incapable of being comprehended by persons of uncleansed souls but this I acquired through the grace of my preceptor. Persons are very rare, O king, that are devoted to Narayana with whole souls. If, O son of Kuru's race the world had been full of such persons, that are full of universal compassion, that are endued with knowledge of the soul, and that are always employed in doing good to others, then the Krita age would have set in. All men would have betaken themselves to the accomplishment of acts without desire of fruit. It was even in this way, O monarch, that, that foremost of regenerate persons, (viz., the illustrious Vyasa), my preceptor, fully conversant with all duties, discoursed unto king Yudhishthira the just on this religion of Devotion, in the presence of many Rishis and in the hearing of Krishna and Bhishma. He had obtained it from the celestial Rishi Narada endued with wealth of penances. Those persons that are devoted to Narayana with their whole souls and are desireless succeed in attaining to the region of that highest of deities, identical with Brahma, pure in complexion, possessed of the effulgence of the moon and endued with immutability."' "Janamejaya said, 'I see that those regenerate persons whose souls have been awakened practise diverse kinds of duties. Why is it that other Brahmanas instead of practising those duties betake themselves to the observance of other kinds of vows and rites?' "Vaisampayana said, 'Three kinds of disposition, O monarch, have been created in respect of all embodied creatures, viz., that which relates to the attribute of Sattwa, that which relates to the attribute of Rajas, and lastly that which relates to the attribute of Tamas, O Bharata. As regards embodied creatures, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, that person is the foremost who is wedded to the attribute of Sattwa, for, O tiger among men, it is certain that he will attain to Emancipation. It is with the aid of this very attribute of Sattwa that one endued therewith succeeds in understanding the person that is conversant with Brahma. As regards Emancipation, it is entirely dependent upon Narayana. Hence it is that persons striving after Emancipation are regarded as made up of the attribute of Sattwa. By thinking of Purushottama the foremost of Beings, the man that is devoted with his whole soul to Narayana, acquires great wisdom. Those persons that are endued with wisdom, that have betaken themselves to the practices of Yatis and the religion of Emancipation,--those persons of quenched thirst, always find that Hari favours them with the fruition of their desire.[1905] That man subject to birth (and death) upon whom Hari casts a kind eye should be known as endued with the attribute of Sattwa and devoted to the acquisition of Emancipation. The religion followed by a person that is devoted with his whole soul to Narayana is regarded as similar or equal in merit to the system of the Sankhyas. By adopting that religion one attains to the highest end and attains to Emancipation which has Narayana for its soul. That person upon whom Narayana looks with compassion succeeds in becoming awakened.[1906] No one, O king, can become awakened through his own wishes. That nature which partakes of both Rajas and Tamas is said to be mixed. Hari never casts a kind eye upon the person subject to birth (and death) that is endued with such a mixed nature and that has, on that account, the principle of Pravritti in him. Only Brahma, the Grandsire of the worlds, looks upon the person that is subject to birth and death because of his mind being overwhelmed with the two inferior attributes of Rajas and Tamas.[1907] Without doubt, the deities and the Rishis are wedded to the attributes of Sattwa, O best of kings. But then they that are divested of that attribute in its subtile form are always regarded to be of mutable nature.'[1908] "Janamejaya said, 'How can one that is fraught with the principle of change succeed in attaining to that Purushottama (the foremost of Purusha)? Do tell me all this, which is, no doubt, known to thee. Do thou discourse to me also of Pravritti in due order.' "Vaisampayana said, 'That which is the twenty-fifth (in the enumeration of topics as made in the Sankhya system) viz., when it becomes able to abstain entirely from acts, succeeds in attaining to the Purushottama which is exceedingly subtile, which is invested with the attribute of Sattwa (in its subtile form), and which is fraught with the essences symbolised by three letters of the alphabet (viz., A, U, and M). The Sankhya system, the Aranyaka-Veda, and the Pancharatra scriptures, are all one and the same and form parts of one whole. Even this is the religion of those that are devoted with their whole souls to Narayana, the religion that has Narayana for its essence.[1909] As waves of the ocean, rising from the ocean, rush away from it only to return to it in the end, even so diverse kinds of knowledge, springing from Narayana, return to Narayana in the end. I have thus explained to thee, O son of Kuru's race, what the religion of Sattwa is. If thou beest competent for it, O Bharata, do thou practise that religion duly. Even thus did the highly-blessed Narada explain to my preceptor,--the Island-born Krishna--the eternal and immutable course, called Ekanta, (ending in One) followed by the Whites[1910] as also by the yellow-robed Yatis. Vyasa gratified with Dharma's son Yudhishthira, imparted this religion to king Yudhishthira the just who was possessed of great intelligence. Derived from my preceptor I have also communicated it to thee! O best of kings, this religion is for these reasons, exceedingly difficult of practice. Others, hearing it, become as much confounded as thou hast suffered thyself to be. It is Krishna who is the protector of the universe and its beguiler. It is He who is the destroyer and the cause, O monarch.'" SECTION CCCL "Janamejaya said, 'The Sankhya system, the Pancharatra scriptures, and the Aranyaka-Vedas,--these different systems of knowledge or religion,--O regenerate Rishi, are current in the world. Do all these systems preach the same course of duties, or are the courses of duties preached by them, O ascetic, different from one another? Questioned by me, do thou discourse to me on Pravritti in due order!' "Vaisampayana said, 'I bow unto that great Rishi who is the dispeller of darkness, and whom Satyavati bore to Parasara in the midst of an island, who is possessed of great knowledge and who is endued with great liberality of soul. The learned say that he is the origin of the Grandsire Brahma; that he is the sixth form of Narayana; that he is the foremost of Rishis; that he is endued with the puissance of Yoga; that as the only son of his parents he is an incarnate portion of Narayana; and that, born under extraordinary circumstances on an Island, he is the inexhaustible receptacle of the Vedas. In the Krita age, Narayana of great puissance and mighty energy, created him as his son. Verily, the high-souled Vyasa is unborn and ancient and is the inexhaustible receptacle of the Vedas!' "Janamejaya said, 'O best of regenerate persons, it was thou that saidst before this that the Rishi Vasishtha had a son of the name of Saktri and that Saktri had a son of the name of Parasara, and that Parasara begot a son named the Island-born Krishna endued with great ascetic merit. Thou tellest me again that Vyasa is the son of Narayana. I ask, was it in some former birth that Vyasa of immeasurable energy had sprung from Narayana? O thou of great intelligence, do tell me of that birth of Vyasa which was due to Narayana!' "Vaisampayana said, 'Desirous of understanding the meaning of the Srutis, my preceptor, that ocean of penances, who is exceedingly devoted to the observance of all scriptural duties and the acquisition of knowledge, dwelt for some time in a particular region of the Himavat mountains. Endued with great intelligence, he became fatigued with his penances in consequence of the great strain on his energies occasioned by the composition of the Mahabharata. At that time, Sumanta and Jaimini and Paila of firm vows and myself numbering the fourth, and Suka his own son, attended on him. All of us, O king, in view of the fatigue our preceptor felt, waited dutifully upon him, engaged in doing all that was necessary for dispelling that fatigue of his. Surrounded by these disciples of his, Vyasa shone in beauty on the breast of the Himavat mountains like the Lord of all the ghostly beings, viz., Mahadeva, in the midst of those ghostly attendants of his. Having recapitulated the Vedas with all their branches as also the meanings of all the Verses in the Mahabharata, one day, with rapt attention, all of us approached our preceptor who, having controlled his senses, was at time rapt up in thought. Availing ourselves of an interval in the conversation, we asked that foremost of regenerate persons to expound to us the meanings of the Vedas and the Verses in the Mahabharata and narrate to us the incidents as well of his own birth from Narayana. Conversant as he was with all topics of enquiry, he at first discoursed to us on the interpretations of the Srutis and the Mahabharata, and then set himself to narrate to us the following incidents relating to his birth from Narayana. "'Vyasa said, "Listen, ye disciples, to this foremost of narratives, to this best of histories that relates again to the birth of a Rishi. Appertaining to the Krita age, this narrative has become known to me through my penances, ye regenerate ones. On the occasion of the seventh creation, viz., that which was due to the primeval Lotus, Narayana, endued with the austerest penances, transcending both good and ill, and possessed of unrivalled splendour, at first created Brahma, from his navel. After Brahma had started into birth, Narayana addressed him, saying: 'Thou hast sprung from my navel. Endued with puissance in respect of creation, do thou set thyself to create diverse kinds of creatures, rational and irrational.' Thus addressed by the author of his being, Brahma with his mind penetrated by anxiety, felt the difficulty of his task and became unwilling to do what he was commenced to do. Bowing his head unto the boon-giving and illustrious Hari, the Lord of the universe, Brahma said these words unto him,--'I bow to thee, O Lord of the deities, but I ask what puissance have I to create diverse creatures? I have no wisdom. Do thou ordain what should be ordained in view of this.' Thus addressed by Brahma, the Lord of the universe, viz., Narayana, disappeared there and then from Brahma's sight. The Supreme Lord, the god of gods, the chief of those endowed with intelligence, then began to think. The Goddess of Intelligence forthwith made her appearance before the puissant Narayana. Himself transcending all Yoga, Narayana then, by dint of Yoga, applied the Goddess of Intelligence properly. The illustrious and puissant and immutable Hari, addressing the Goddess of Intelligence who was endued with activity and goodness and all the puissance of Yoga, said unto her these words:--'For the accomplishment of the task of creating all the worlds do thou enter into Brahma.' Commanded thus by the Supreme Lord, Intelligence forthwith entered Brahma. When Hari beheld that Brahma had become united with Intelligence, He once more addressed him, saying--'Do thou now create diverse kinds of creatures.'--Replying unto Narayana by uttering the word 'Yes,' Brahma reverently accepted the command of his progenitor. Narayana then disappeared from Brahma's presence, and in a moment repaired to his own place, known by the name of Deva (Light or Effulgence). Returning to His own disposition (of Unmanifestness), Hari remained in that state of oneness. After the task of creation, however, had been accomplished by Brahma, another thought arose in the mind of Narayana. Indeed, he reflected in this strain:--'Brahma, otherwise called Parameshthi, has created all these creatures, consisting of Daityas and Danavas and Gandharvas and Rakshasas. The helpless Earth has become burthened with the weight of creatures. Many among the Daityas and Danavas and Rakshasas on Earth will become endued with great strength. Possessed of penances, they will at diverse times succeed in acquiring many excellent boons. Swelling with pride and might in consequence of those boons that they will succeed in obtaining, they will oppress and afflict the deities and the Rishis possessed of ascetic might. It is, therefore, meet that I should now and then lighten the burthen of the Earth, by assuming diverse forms one after another as occasion would require. I shall achieve this task by chastising the wicked and upholding the righteous. (Thus looked after by me), the Earth, which is the embodiment of Truth, will succeed in bearing her load of creatures. Assuming the form of a mighty snake I myself have to uphold the Earth in empty space. Upheld by me thus, she will uphold the entire creation, mobile and immobile. Incarnated on the Earth, therefore, in different forms, I shall have to rescue her at such times from peril.' Having reflected in this way, the illustrious slayer of Madhu created diverse forms in his mind in which to appear from time to time for accomplishing the task in view. 'Assuming the form of a Boar, of Man-lion, of a Dwarf, and of human beings, I shall quell or slay such enemies of the deities as will become wicked and ungovernable.' After this, the original Creator of the universe once more uttered the syllable, Bho, causing the atmosphere to resound with it. From this syllable of speech (Saraswati) arose a Rishi of the name Saraswat. The son, thus born of the Speech of Narayana, came to be, also called by the name of Apantaratamas. Endued with great puissance, he was fully conversant with the past, the present, and the future. Firm in the observance of vows, he was truthful in speech.[1911] Unto that Rishi who, after birth, had bowed his head unto Narayana, the latter, who was the original Creator of all the deities and possessed of a nature that was immutable, said those words: 'Thou shouldst devote thy attention to the distribution of the Vedas, O foremost of all persons endued with intelligence.[1912] Do thou, therefore, O ascetic, accomplish what I command thee.'--In obedience to this command of the Supreme Lord from whose Speech the Rishi Apantaratamas sprang into existence, the latter, in the Kalpa named after the Self-born Manu, distributed and arranged the Vedas. For that act of the Rishi, the illustrious Hari became gratified with him, as also for his well-performed penances, his vows and observances, and his restraint of the senses or passions. Addressing him, Narayana said,--'At each Manwantara, O son, thou wilt act in this way with respect to the Vedas. Thou shalt, in consequence of this act of thine, be immutable, O regenerate one, and incapable of being transcended by any one. When the Kali age will set in, certain princes of Bharata's line, to be called by the name of Kauravas, will take their birth from thee. They will be celebrated over the Earth as high-souled princes ruling over powerful kingdoms. Born of thee, dissensions will break out among them ending in their destruction at one another's hands excepting yourself. O foremost of regenerate persons,[1913] in that age also, endued with austere penances, thou wilt distribute the Vedas into diverse classes. Indeed, in that dark age, thy complexion will become dark. Thou shalt cause diverse kinds of duties to flow and diverse kinds of knowledge also. Although endued with austere penances, yet thou shalt never be able to free thyself from desire and attachment to the world. Thy son, however, will be freed from every attachment like unto the Supreme Soul, through the grace of Madhava. It will not be otherwise. He whom learned Brahmanas call the mind-born son of the Grandsire, viz., Vasishtha endued with great intelligence and like unto an ocean of penances, and whose splendour transcends that of the Sun himself, will be the progenitor of a race in which a great Rishi of the name of Parasara, possessed of mighty energy and prowess, will take his birth. That foremost of persons, that ocean of Vedas, that abode of penances, will become thy sire (when thou wilt take birth in the Kali age). Thou shalt take thy birth as the son of a maiden residing in the house of her sire, through an act of congress with the great Rishi Parasara. Doubts thou wilt have none with respect to the imports of things past, present, and future. Endued with penances and instructed by me, thou wilt behold the incidents of thousands and thousands of ages long past away. Thou wilt see through thousands and thousands of ages also in the future. Thou shalt, in that birth, behold me, O ascetic,--me that am without birth and death,--incarnated on Earth (as Krishna of Yadu's race), armed with the discus. All this will happen to thee, O ascetic, through the merit that will be thine in consequence of thy ceaseless devotion to me. These words of mine will never be otherwise. Thou shalt be one of the foremost of creatures. Great shall be thy fame. Surya's son Sani (Saturn) will, in a future Kalpa, take birth as the great Manu of that period. During that Manwantara, O son, thou shalt, in respect of merits, be superior to even the Manus of the several periods. Without doubt, thou shalt be so through my grace. Whatever exists in the world represents the result of my exertion. The thoughts of others may not correspond with their acts. As regards myself, however, I always ordain what I think, without the least impediment!'[1914] Having said these words unto the Rishi Apantaratamas, otherwise called by the name of Saraswat, the Supreme Lord dismissed him, saying unto him.--'Go.' I am he that was born as Apantaratamas through the command of Hari. Once more have I taken birth as the celebrated Krishna-Dwaipayana, a delighter of the race of Vasishtha.[1915] I have thus told you, my dear disciples, the circumstances, of my own former birth which was due to the grace of Narayana in so much that I was a very portion of Narayana himself. Ye foremost of intelligent persons, I underwent, in days of yore, the austerest penances, with the aid of the highest abstraction of the mind. Ye sons, moved by my great affection for yourselves that are devoted to me with reverence, I have told you everything relating to what you wished to know from me, viz., my first birth in days of remote antiquity and that other birth subsequent to it (viz., the present one)!"' "Vaisampayana continued, 'I have thus narrated to thee, O monarch, the circumstances connected with the former birth of our revered preceptor, viz., Vyasa of unstained mind, as asked by thee. Listen to me once again. There are diverse kinds of cults, O royal sage, that go by diverse names such as Sankhya, Yoga, the Pancha-ratra, Vedas, and Pasupati. The promulgator of Sankhya cult is said to be the great Rishi Kapila. The primeval Hiranyagarbha, and none else, is the promulgator of the Yoga system. The Rishi Apantaratamas is said to be the preceptor of the Vedas, some call that Rishi by the name of Prachina-garbha. The cult known by the name of Pasupata was promulgated by the Lord of Uma, that master of all creatures, viz., the cheerful Siva, otherwise known by the name of Sreekantha, the son of Brahma. The illustrious Narayana is himself the promulgator of the cult, in its entirety, contained in the Pancharatra scriptures. In all these cults, O foremost of kings, it is seen that the puissant Narayana is the one sole object of exposition. According to the scriptures of these cults and the measure of knowledge they contain, Narayana is the one sole object of worship they inculcate. Those persons whose visions, O king, are blinded by darkness, fail to understand that Narayana is the Supreme Soul pervading the entire universe. Those persons of wisdom who are the authors of the scriptures say that Narayana, who is a Rishi, is the one object of reverent worship in the universe. I say that there is no other being like Him. The Supreme Deity, called by the name of Hari, resides in the hearts of those that have succeeded (with the aid of the scriptures and of inference) in dispelling all doubts. Madhava never resides in the hearts of those that are under the sway of doubts and that would dispute away everything with the aid of false dialectics. They that are conversant with the Pancharatra scriptures, that are duly observant of the duties laid down therein, and that are devoted to Narayana with their whole souls, succeed in entering into Narayana. The Sankhya and the Yoga systems are eternal. All the Vedas, again, O monarch, are eternal. The Rishis, in all these systems of cult, have declared that this universe existing from ancient times is Narayana's self. Thou shouldst know that whether acts, good or bad, are laid down in the Vedas and occurrence in heaven and Earth, between the sky and the waters, are all caused by and flow from that ancient Rishi Narayana.'" SECTION CCCLI "Janamejaya said, 'O regenerate one, are there many Purushas or is there only one? Who, in the universe, is the foremost of Purushas? What, again, is said to be the source of all things?' "Vaisampayana said, 'In the speculations of the Sankhya and the Yoga systems many Purushas have been spoken of, O jewel of Kuru's race. Those that follow these systems do not accept that there is but one Purusha in the universe.[1916] In the same manner in which the many Purushas are said to have one origin in the Supreme Purusha, it may be said that this entire universe is identical with that one Purusha of superior attributes. I shall explain this now, after bowing to my preceptor Vyasa, that foremost of Rishis, who is conversant with the soul, endued with penances, self-restrained, and worthy of reverent worship. This speculation on Purusha, O king, occurs in all the Vedas. It is well known to be identical with Rita and Truth. The foremost of Rishis, viz., Vyasa, has thought upon it. Having occupied themselves with reflection on what is called Adhyatma, diverse Rishis, O king, having Kapila for their first, have declared their opinions on the topic both generally and particularly. Through the grace of Vyasa of immeasurable energy, I shall expound to thee what Vyasa has said in brief on this question of the Oneness of Purusha. In this connection is cited the old narrative of the discourse between Brahma, O king, and the Three-eyed Mahadeva. In the midst of the Ocean of milk, there is a very high mountain of great effulgence like that of gold, known, O monarch, by the name of Vaijayanta. Repairing thither all alone, from his own abode of great splendour and felicity, the illustrious deity Brahma used very often to pass his time, engaged in thinking on the course of Adhyatma. While the four-faced Brahma of great intelligence was seated there, his son Mahadeva, who had sprung from his forehead encountered him one day in course of his wanderings through the universe. In days of yore, the Three-eyed Siva endued with puissance and high Yoga, while proceeding along the sky, beheld Brahma seated on that mountain and, therefore, dropped down quickly on its top. With a cheerful heart he presented him before his progenitor and worshipped his feet. Beholding Mahadeva prostrated at his feet, Brahma took him up with his left hand. Having thus raised Mahadeva up, Brahma, that puissant and one Lord of all creatures, then addressed his son, whom he met after a long time, in these words. "'The Grandsire said, "Welcome art thou, O thou of mighty arms. By good luck I see thee after such a long time come to my presence. I hope, O son, that everything is right with thy penances and thy Vedic studies and recitations. Thou art always observant of the austerest penances. Hence I ask thee about the progress and well-being of those penances of thine!" "'Rudra said, "O illustrious one, through thy grace, all is well with my penances and Vedic studies. It is all right, again, with the universe. I saw thy illustrious self a long while ago in thy own home of felicity and effulgence. I am coming thence to this mountain that is now the abode of thy feet.[1917] Great is the curiosity excited in my mind by this withdrawal of thyself into such a lone spot from thy usual region of felicity and splendour. Great must the reason be, O Grandsire, for such an act on thy part. Thy own foremost abode is free from the pains of hunger and thirst, and inhabited by both deities and Asuras, by Rishis of immeasurable splendour, as also by Gandharvas and Apsaras. Abandoning such a spot of felicity, thou residest alone in this foremost of mountains. The cause of this cannot but be grave." "'Brahma said, "This foremost of mountains, called Vaijayanta, is always my residence. Here, with concentrated mind, I meditate on the one universal Purusha of infinite proportions." "'Rudra said, "Self-born thou art. Many are the Purushas that have been created by thee. Others again, O Brahma, are being created by thee. The Infinite Purusha, however, of whom thou speakest, is one and single. Who is that foremost of Purushas, O Brahma, that is being meditated by thee? Great is the curiosity I feel on this point. Do thou kindly dispel the doubt that has taken possession of my mind." "'Brahma said, "O son, many are those Purushas of whom thou speakest. The one Purusha, however, of whom I am thinking, transcends all Purushas and is invisible. The many Purushas that exist in the universe have that one Purusha as their basis; and since that one Purushas is said to be the source whence all the innumerable Purushas have sprung, hence all the latter, if they succeed in divesting themselves of attributes, become competent to enter into that one Purusha who is identified with the universe, who is supreme, who is the foremost of the foremost, who is eternal, and who is himself divested of and is above all attributes."'" SECTION CCCLII "'Brahma said,--"Listen, O son, as to how that Purusha is indicated. He is eternal and immutable. He is undeteriorating and immeasurable. He pervades all things.[1918] O best of all creatures, that Purusha cannot be seen by thee, or me, or others. Those that are endued with the understanding and the senses but destitute of self-restraint and tranquility of soul cannot obtain a sight of him. The Supreme Purusha is said to be one that can be seen with the aid of knowledge alone. Though divested of body, He dwells in every body. Though dwelling, again, in bodies, He is never touched by the acts accomplished by those bodies. He is my Antaratma (inner soul). He is thy inner soul. He is the all-seeing Witness dwelling within all embodied creatures and engaged in marking their acts. No one can grasp or comprehend him at any time. The universe is the crown of his head. The universe is his arms. The universe is his feet. The universe is his eyes. The universe is his nose. Alone and single, he roves through all Kshetras (Bodies) unrestrained by any limitations on his will and as he likes. Kshetra is another name for body. And because he knows all Kshetras as also all good and bad deeds, therefore he, who is the soul of Yoga, is called by the name of Kshetrajna.[1919] No one succeeds in perceiving how he enters into embodied creatures and how he goes out of them. Agreeably to the Sankhya mode, as also with the aid of Yoga and the due observance of the ordinances prescribed by it, I am engaged in thinking of the cause of that Purusha, but alas, I am unable to comprehend that cause, excellent as it is. I shall, however, according to the measure of my knowledge, discourse to thee upon that eternal Purusha and his Oneness and supreme greatness. The learned speak of him as the one Purusha. That one eternal Being deserves the appellation of Mahapurusha (the great supreme Purusha). Fire is an element, but it may be seen to blaze up in a thousand places under thousand different circumstances. The Sun is one and single, but his rays extend over the wide universe. Penances are of diverse kinds, but they have one common origin whence they have flowed. The Wind is one, but it blows in diverse forms in the world. The great Ocean is the one parent of all the waters in the world seen under diverse circumstances. Divested of attributes, that one Purusha is the universe displayed in infinitude. Flowing from him, the infinite universe enters into that one Purusha again who transcends all attributes, when the time of its destruction comes. By casting off the consciousness of body and the senses, by casting off all acts good and bad, by casting off both truth and falsehood, one succeeds in divesting oneself of attributes. The person who realises that inconceivable Purusha and comprehends his subtile existence in the quadruple form of Aniruddha, Pradyumna, Sankarshana, and Vasudeva, and who, in consequence of such comprehension, attains to perfect tranquillity of heart, succeeds in entering into and identifying himself with that one auspicious Purusha. Some persons possessed of learning speak of him as the supreme soul. Others regarded him as the one soul. A third class of learned men describe him as the soul.[1920] The truth is that he who is the Supreme Soul is always divested of attributes. He is Narayana. He is the universal soul, and he is the one Purusha. He is never affected by the fruits of acts even as the leaf of the lotus is never drenched by the water one may throw upon it. The Karamta (acting Soul) is different. That Soul is sometimes engaged in acts and when it succeeds in casting off acts attains to Emancipation or identity with the Supreme Soul. The acting Soul is endued with the seven and ten possessions.[1921] Thus it is said that there are innumerable kinds of Purushas in due order. In reality, however, there is but one Purusha. He is the abode of all the ordinances in respect of the universe. He is the highest object of knowledge. He is at once the knower and the object to be known. He is at once the thinker and the object of thought. He is the eater and the food that is eaten. He is the smeller and the scent that is smelled. He is at once he that touches and the object that is touched. He is the agent that sees and the object that is seen. He is the hearer and the object that is heard. He is the conceiver and the object that is conceived. He is possessed of attributes and is free from them. What has previously, O son, been named Pradhana, and is the mother of the Mahat tattwa is no other than the Effulgence of the Supreme Soul; because He it is who is eternal, without destruction and any end and ever immutable. He it is who creates the prime ordinance in respect of Dhatri himself. Learned Brahmanas call Him by the name of Aniruddha. Whatever acts, possessed of excellent merits and fraught with blessings, flow in the world from the Vedas, have been caused by Him.[1922] All the deities and all the Rishis, possessed of tranquil souls, occupying their places on the altar, dedicate to him the first share of their sacrificial offerings.[1923] I, that am Brahma, the primeval master of all creatures, have started into birth from Him, and thou hast taken thy birth from me. From me have flowed the universe with all its mobile and immobile creatures, and all the Vedas, O son, with their mysteries. Divided into four portions (viz., Aniruddha, Pradyumna, Sankarshana, and Vasudeva), He sports as He pleases. That illustrious and divine Lord is even such, awakened by His own knowledge. I have thus answered thee, O son, according to thy questions, and according to the way in which the matter is expounded in the Sankha system and the Yoga philosophy."'" SECTION CCCLIII Sauti said, "After Vaisampayana had explained to king Janamejaya in this way the glory of Narayana, he began to discourse on another topic by reciting the question of Yudhishthira and the answer that Bhishma gave in the presence of all the Pandavas and the Rishis as also of Krishna himself. Indeed, Vaisampayana began by saying what follows.[1924] "'Yudhishthira said, "Thou hast, O grandsire discoursed to us on the duties appertaining to the religion of Emancipation. It behoveth thee now to tell us what the foremost duties are of persons belonging to the several modes of life!"[1925] "'Bhishma said, "The duties ordained in respect of every mode of life are capable, if well performed, of leading to heaven and the high fruit of Truth. Duties which are as so many doors, to great sacrifices and gifts and none of the practices inculcated by them are futile in respect of consequence. One who adopts particular duties with steady and firm faith, praises these duties adopted by him to the exclusion of the rest, O chief of Bharata's race. This particular topic, however, on which thou wishest me to discourse was in days of yore the subject of conversation between the celestial Rishi Narada and the chief of the deities, viz., Indra. The great Rishi Narada, O king, revered by all the world is a siddha i.e., his sadhana has met fulfilment. He wanders through all the worlds unobstructed by anything, like the all-pervading wind itself. Once upon a time he repaired to the abode of Indra. Duly honoured by the chief of the deities, he sat close to his host. Beholding him seated at his ease and free from fatigue, the lord of Sachi addressed him, saying,--'O great Rishi, is there any thing wonderful that has been beheld by thee, O sinless one? O regenerate Rishi, crowned with ascetic success, thou rovest, moved by curiosity, through the universe of mobile and immobile objects, witnessing all things. O celestial Rishi, there is nothing in the universe that is unknown to thee. Do thou tell me, therefore, of any wonderful incident which thou mayst have seen or heard of or felt.' Thus questioned, Narada, that foremost of speakers, O king, then commented to recite unto the chief of the celestials the extensive history that follows. Listen now to me as I recite that story which Narada told before Indra. I shall narrate it in the same manner in which the celestial Rishi had narrated it, and for the same purpose that he had in view!"'" SECTION CCCLIV "'Bhishma said, "In an excellent town called by the name of Mahapadma which was situate on the southern side of the river Ganga, there lived, O best of men, a Brahmana of concentrated soul. Born in the race of Atri, he was endued with amiability. All his doubts had been dispelled (by faith and contemplation) and he was well conversant with the path he was to follow. Ever observant of the religious duties, he had his anger under perfect control. Always contented, he was the complete master of his senses. Devoted to penances and study of the Vedas, he was honoured by all good men. He earned wealth by righteous means and his conduct in all things corresponded with the mode of life he led and the order to which he belonged. The family to which he belonged was large and celebrated. He had many kinsmen and relatives, and many children and spouses. His behaviour was always respectable and faultless. Observing that he had many children, the Brahmana betook himself to the accomplishment of religious acts on a large scale. His religious observances, O king, had reference to the customs of his own family.[1926] The Brahmana reflected that three kinds of duties have been laid down for observances. There were first, the duties ordained in the Vedas in respect of the order in which he was born and the mode of life he was leading (viz., a Brahmana in the observance of domesticity). There were secondly, the duties prescribed in the scriptures, viz., those especially called the Dharmasastras. And, thirdly, there were those duties that eminent and revered men of former times have followed though not occurring either in the Vedas or the scriptures.[1927] 'Which of these duties should I follow? Which of them, again, followed by me, are likely to lead to my benefit? Which, indeed, should be my refuge?'--Thoughts like these always troubled him. He could not solve his doubts. While troubled with such reflections, a Brahmana of concentrated soul and observant of a very superior religion, came to his house as a guest. The house-holder duly honoured his guest according to those ordinances of worship that are laid down in the scriptures. Beholding his guest refreshed and seated at ease, the host addressed him in the following words. "'"The Brahmana said, 'O sinless one, I have become exceedingly attached to thee in consequence of the sweetness of thy conversation. Thou hast become my friend. Listen to me, for I wish to say something unto thee. O foremost of Brahmanas, after making over the duties of a householder to my son, I wish to discharge the highest duties of man. What, O regenerate one, should be my path? Relying upon the Jiva soul, I wish to achieve existence in the one (supreme) soul. Alas, bound up in the ties of attachment, I have not the heart to actually set myself to the accomplishment of that task.[1928] And since the best portion of my life has passed away in the observance of domesticity, I desire to devote the remnant of my life in earning the means of defraying the expenses of my journey in respect of the time to come. The desire has arisen in my mind of crossing the ocean of the world. Alas, whence shall I get the raft of religion (with which to accomplish my purposes)? Hearing that even the very deities are persecuted and made to endure the fruits of their acts, and beholding the rows of Yama's standards and flags floating over the heads of all creatures, my heart fails to derive pleasure from the diverse objects of pleasure with which it comes into contact. Beholding also that the Yatis depend for their sustenance upon alms obtained in course of their rounds of mendicancy, I have no respect for the religion of the Yatis as well. O my reverend guest, do thou, aided by that religion which is founded upon the basis of intelligence and reason, set me to the observance of a particular course of duties and observance!'"[1929] "'Bhishma continued, "Endued with great wisdom, the guest, hearing this speech of his host which was consistent with righteousness, said these sweet words in a melodious voice. "'"The guest said, 'I myself also am confounded with respect to this topic. The same thought occupies my mind. I am unable to arrive at definite conclusions. Heaven has many doors. There are some that applaud Emancipation. Some regenerate persons praise the fruits attainable by the performance of sacrifices. Some there are that take refuge in the forest mode of life. Some, again, betake themselves to the domestic mode of life. Some rely upon the merits attainable by an observance of the duties of kings. Some rely upon the fruits of that culture which consists in restraining the soul. Some think that the merits resulting from a dutiful obedience to preceptors and seniors are efficacious. Some betake themselves to restraints imposed on speech. Some by waiting dutifully upon their mothers and fathers, have gone to heaven. Some have ascended to heaven by practising the duty of compassion, and some by practising Truth. Some rush to battle, and after laying down their lives, have attained to heaven. Some, again, attaining to success by practising the vow called Unccha, have betaken themselves to the path of heaven. Some have devoted themselves to the study of the Vedas. Endued with auspiciousness and wedded to such study, these men, possessed of intelligence, with tranquil souls, and having their senses under complete control, attain to heaven. Others characterised by simplicity and truth, have been slain by men of wickedness. Endued with pure souls, such men of truth and simplicity, have become honoured denizens of heaven. In this world, it is seen, that men betake themselves to heaven, through a thousand doors of duty, all standing wide open. My understanding has been troubled by thy question, like a fleecy cloud before the wind.'"'" SECTION CCCLV "'"The guest continued, 'For all that, O Brahmana, I shall endeavour to instruct thee duly. Listen to me as I recite to thee that which I have heard from my preceptor. In that place whence, in course of a former creation, the wheel of righteousness was set in motion, in that forest which is known by the name of Naimisha, and which is situate on the banks of the Gomati, there is a city called after the Nagas. There, in that region, all the deities, being assembled together, had in days of old performed a grand sacrifice. There the foremost of earthly kings, Mandhatri, vanquished Indra, the chief of the celestials. A mighty Naga, of righteous soul, dwells in the city that stands in that region. That great Naga is known by the name of Padmanabha or Padma. Walking in the triple path (of acts, knowledge, and adoration) he gratifies all creatures in thought, word, and deed. Reflecting upon all things with great care, he protects the righteous and chastises the wicked by adopting the quadruple policy of conciliation, provoking dissensions, making gifts or bribes, and using force. Repairing thither, thou shouldst put to him the questions thou wishest. He will show thee truly what the highest religion is. That Naga is always fond of guests. Endued with great intelligence, he is well conversant with the scriptures. He is possessed of all desirable virtues the like of which are not to be noticed in any other person. By disposition he is always observant of those duties which are performed with or in water.[1930] He is devoted to the study of the Vedas. He is endued with penances and self-restraint. He has great wealth. He performs sacrifice, makes gifts, abstains from inflicting injury and practises forgiveness. His conduct in all respects is excellent. Truthful in speech and freed from malice, his behaviour is good and his senses are under proper control. He eats after feeding all his guests and attendants. He is kind of speech. He has knowledge of what is beneficial and what is simple and right and what is censurable. He takes stock of what he does and what he leaves undone. He never acts with hostility towards any one. He is always engaged in doing what is beneficial to all creatures. He belongs to a family that is as pure and stainless as the water of a lake in the midst of the Ganges.'"'" SECTION CCCLVI "'"The host replied, 'I have heard these words of thine, that are so consoling, with as much gratification as is felt by a person heavily loaded when that load is taken off his head or shoulders. The gratification that a traveller who has made a long journey on foot feels when he lies down on a bed, that which a person feels when he finds a seat after having stood for a long while for want of room, or that which is felt by a thirsty person when he finds a glass of cool water, or that which is felt by a hungry man when he finds savoury food set before him, or that which a guest feels when a dish of desirable food is placed before him at the proper time, or that which is felt by an old man when after long coveting he gets a son, or that which is experienced by one when meeting with a dear friend or relative about whom one had become exceedingly anxious, resembles that with which I have been filled in consequence of these words uttered by thee.[1931] Like a person with upturned gaze I have heard what has fallen from thy lips and am reflecting upon their import. With these wise words of thine thou hast truly instructed me! Yes, I shall do what thou hast commanded me to do. Thou mayst go tomorrow at dawn, passing the night happily with me and dispelling thy fatigue by such rest. Behold, the rays of the divine Surya have been partially dimmed and the god of day is proceeding in his downward course!'" "'Bhishma continued, "Hospitably waited upon by that Brahmana, the learned guest, O slayer of foes, passed that night in the company of his host. Indeed, both of them passed the night happily, conversing cheerfully with each other on the subject of the duties of the fourth mode of life, viz., Sannyasa (Renunciation). So engrossing was the nature of their conversation that the night passed away as if it were day. When morning came, the guest was worshipped with due rites by the Brahmana whose heart had been eagerly set upon the accomplishment of what (according to the discourse of the guest) was regarded by him to be beneficial for himself. Having dismissed his guest, the righteous Brahmana, resolved to achieve his purpose, took leave of his kinsmen and relatives, and set out in due time for the abode of that foremost of Nagas, with heart steadily directed towards it."'" SECTION CCCLVII "'Bhishma said, "Proceeding by many delightful forests and lakes and sacred waters, the Brahmana at last arrived at the retreat of a certain ascetic. Arrived there, he enquired of him, in proper words, about the Naga of whom he had heard from his guest, and instructed by him he pursued his journey. With a clear idea of the purpose of his journey, the Brahmana then reached the house of the Naga. Entering it duly, he proclaimed himself in proper words, saying,--'Ho! who is there! I am a Brahmana, come hither as a guest!'--Hearing these words, the chaste wife of the Naga, possessed of great beauty and devoted to the observance of all duties, showed herself. Always attentive to the duties of hospitality, she worshipped the guest with due rites, and welcoming him, said, 'What can I do for you?' "'"The Brahmana said, 'O lady, I am sufficiently honoured by thee with the sweet words thou hast said unto me. The fatigue of my journey has also been dispelled. I desire, O blessed lady, to see thy excellent lord. This is my high object. This is the one object of my desire. It is for this reason that I have come today to the residence of the Naga, thy husband.' "'"The wife of the Naga said, 'Reverend sir, my husband has gone to drag the car of Surya for a month. O learned Brahmana, he will be back in fifteen days, and will, without doubt show himself unto thee. I have thus told thee the reason of my husband's absence from home. Be that as it may, what else is there that I can do for thee? Tell me this!' "'"The Brahmana said, 'O chaste lady, I have come hither with the object of seeing thy husband. O reverend dame, I shall dwell in the adjacent forest, waiting for his return. When thy husband comes back, do kindly tell him that I have arrived at this place impelled by the desire of seeing him. Thou shouldst also inform me of his return when that event occurs. O blessed lady, I shall, till then, reside on the banks of the Gomati, waiting for his return and living all the while upon frugal fare.' Having said this repeatedly unto the wife of the Naga, that foremost of Brahmanas proceeded to the banks of the Gomati for residing there till the time of the Naga's return."'" SECTION CCCLVIII "'Bhishma continued, "The Nagas of that city became exceedingly distressed when they saw that that Brahmana, devoted to the practice of penances, continued to reside in the forest, entirely abstaining all the while from food, in expectation of the arrival of the Naga chief. All the kinsmen and relatives of the great Naga, including his brother and children and wife, assembling together, repaired to the spot where the Brahmana was staying. Arrived on the banks of the Gomati, they beheld that regenerate person seated in a secluded spot, abstaining from food of every kind, observant the while of excellent vows, and engaged in silently reciting certain Mantras. Approaching the presence of the Brahmana and offering him due worship, the kinsmen and relatives of the great Naga said unto him these words fraught with candour:--'O Brahmana, endued with wealth of asceticism, this is the sixth day of thy arrival here, but thou sayest no word about thy food. O regenerate one, thou art devoted to righteousness. Thou hast come to us. We two are here in attendance upon thee. It is absolutely necessary that we should do the duties of hospitality to thee. We are all relations of the Naga chief with whom thou hast business. Roots or fruits, leaves, or water, or rice or meat, O best of Brahmanas, it behoveth thee to take for thy food. In consequence of thy dwelling in this forest under such circumstances of total abstention from food, the whole community of Nagas, young and old, is being afflicted, since this thy fast implies negligence on our part to discharge the duties of hospitality. We have none amongst us that has been guilty of Brahmanicide. None of us has ever lost a son immediately after birth. No one has been born in our race that has eaten before serving the deities or guests or relatives arrived at his residence.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'In consequence of these solicitations of you all, I may be regarded to have broken my fast. Eight days are wanting for the day to come when the chief of the Nagas will return.[1932] If, on the expiry of the eighth night hence, the chief of the Nagas does not come back, I shall then break this fast by eating. Indeed, this vow of abstaining from all food that I am observing is in consequence of my regard for the Naga chief. You should not grieve for what I am doing. Do you all return to whence you came. This my vow is on his account. You should not do anything in consequence of which this my vow may be broken.'--The assembled Nagas, thus addressed by the Brahmana, were dismissed by him, whereupon, O foremost of men, they returned to their respective residences."'" SECTION CCCLIX "'Bhishma said, "Upon the expiry of the period of full fifteen days, the Naga chief (Padmanabha), having finished his task of dragging the car of Surya and obtained the latter's permission, came back to his own house. Beholding him come back, his spouse approached him quickly for washing his feet and dutifully discharging other tasks of a similar nature. Having gone through these tasks, she took her seat by his side. The Naga then, refreshed from fatigue, addressed his dutiful and chaste wife, saying, 'I hope, my dear wife, that during my absence thou hast not been unmindful of worshipping the deities and guests agreeably to the instructions I gave thee, and according to the ordinances laid down in the scriptures. I hope, without yielding to that uncleansed understanding which is natural to persons of thy sex, thou hast, during my absence from home, been firm in the observance of the duties of hospitality. I trust that thou hast not transcended the barriers of duty and righteousness.' "'"The wife of the Naga said, 'The duty of disciples is to wait with reverence upon their preceptor accomplishing his bidding; that of Brahmanas is to study the Vedas and bear them in memory; that of servants is to obey the commands of their masters; that of the king is to protect his people by cherishing the good and chastising the wicked. It is said that the duties of a Kshatriya embrace the protection of all creatures from wrong and oppression. The duty of the Sudra is to serve with humility persons of the three regenerate orders, viz., Brahmanas, Kshatriyas and Vaisyas. The religion of the house-holder, O chief of the Nagas, consists in doing good to all creatures. Frugality of fare and observance of vow in due order, constitute merit (for persons of all classes) in consequence of the connection that exists between the senses and the duties of religion.[1933] "Who am I? Whence have I come? What are others to me and what am I to others?"--these are the thoughts to which the mind should ever be directed by him who leads that course of life which leads to Emancipation. Chastity and obedience to the husband constitute the highest duty of the wife. Through thy instruction, O chief of the Nagas, I have learnt this well. I, therefore, that am well conversant with my duty, and that have thee for my husband--thee that art devoted to righteousness,--O, why shall I, swerving from the path of duty, tread along the path of disobedience and sin? During thy absence from home, the adorations to the deities have not fallen off in any respect. I have also, without the slightest negligence, attended to the duties of hospitality towards persons arrived as guests in thy abode. Fifteen days ago a Brahmana has come here. He has not disclosed his object to me. He desires to have an interview with thee. Dwelling the while on the banks of the Gomati he is anxiously expecting thy return. Of rigid vows, that Brahmana is sitting there, engaged in the recitation of the Vedas. O chief of the Nagas, I have made a promise to him to the effect that I would despatch thee to him as soon as thou wouldst come back to thy abode. Hearing these words of mine, O best of Nagas, it behoveth thee to repair thither. O thou that hearest with thy eyes, it behoveth thee to grant unto that regenerate person the object that has brought him hither!'"'"[1934] SECTION CCCLX "'"The Naga said, 'O thou of sweet smiles, for whom hast thou taken that Brahmana? Is he really a human being or is he some deity that has come hither in the disguise of a Brahmana? O thou of great fame, who is there among human beings that would be desirous of seeing me or that would be competent for the purpose? Can a human being, desiring to see me, leave such a command with thee about dispatching me to him for paying him a visit at the place where he is dwelling? Amongst the deities and Asuras and celestial Rishis, O amiable lady, the Nagas are endued with great energy. Possessed of great speed, they are endued again with excellent fragrance. They deserve to be worshipped. They are capable of granting boons. Indeed, we too deserve to be followed by others in our train. I tell thee, O lady, that we are incapable of being seen by human beings.'[1935] "'"The spouse of the Naga chief said, 'Judging by his simplicity and candour I know that that Brahmana is not any deity who subsists on air. O thou of great wrath, I also know this, viz., that he reveres thee with all his heart. His heart is set upon the accomplishment of some object that depends upon thy aid. As the bird called Chataka, which is fond of rain, waits in earnest expectation of a shower (for slaking its thirst), even so is that Brahmana waiting in expectation of a meeting with thee.[1936] Let no calamity betake him in consequence of his inability to obtain a sight of thee. No person born like thee in a respectable family can be regarded to remain respectable by neglecting a guest arrived at his house.[1937] Casting off that wrath which is natural to thee, it behoveth thee to go and see that Brahmana. It behoveth thee not to suffer thyself to be consumed by disappointing that Brahmana. The king or the prince, by refusing to wipe the tears of persons that come to him from hopes of relief, incurs the sin of foeticide. By abstaining from speech one attains to wisdom. By practising gifts one acquires great fame. By adhering to truthfulness of speech, one acquires the gift of eloquence and comes to be honoured in heaven. By giving away land one attains to that high end which is ordained for Rishis leading the sacred mode of life. By earning wealth through righteous means, one succeeds in attaining to many desirable fruits. By doing in its entirety what is beneficial for oneself, one can avoid going to hell. That is what the righteous say.' "'"The Naga said, 'I had no arrogance due to pride. In consequence, however, of my birth, the measure of my arrogance was considerable. Of wrath, which is born of desire, O blessed lady, I have none. It has all been consumed by the fire of thy excellent instructions. I do not behold, O blessed dame, any darkness that is thicker than wrath. In consequence, however, of the Naga having excess of wrath, they have become object of reproach with all persons.[1938] By succumbing to the influence of wrath, the ten-headed Ravana of great prowess, became the rival of Sakra and was for that reason slain by Rama in battle. Hearing that the Rishi Rama of Bhrigu's race had entered the inner apartments of their palace for bringing away the calf of the Homa cow of their sire, the sons of Kartavirya, yielding to wrath, took such entry as an insult to their royal house, and as the consequence thereof, they met with destruction at the hands of Rama. Indeed, Kartavirya of great strength, resembling the Thousand-eyed Indra himself, in consequence of his having yielded to wrath, was slain in battle by Rama of Jamadagni's race. Verily, O amiable lady at thy words I have restrained my wrath, that foe of penances that destroyer of all that is beneficial for myself. I praise my own self greatly since, O large-eyed one, I am fortunate enough to own thee for my wife,--thee that are possessed of every virtue and that hast inexhaustible merits. I shall now proceed to that spot where the Brahmana is staying. I shall certainly address that Brahmana in proper words and he shall certainly go hence, his wishes being accomplished.'"'" SECTION CCCLXI "'Bhishma said, "Having said these words unto his dear spouse, the chief of the Nagas proceeded to that place where the Brahmana was sitting in expectation of an interview with him. As he proceeded, he thought of the Brahman and wondered as to what the business could be that had brought him to the Naga city. Arrived at his presence, O chief of men, that foremost of Nagas devoted by his nature to righteousness, addressed his guest in sweet words, saying, 'O Brahmana do not yield to wrath. I address thee in peace. Do not be angry. After whom hast thou come hither? What is thy object? Coming to thee, I ask thee in affection, O regenerate one whom dost thou adore in this retired spot on the banks of the Gomati!' "'"The Brahmana said, 'Know that my name is Dharmaranya, and that I have come hither for obtaining a sight of the Naga Padmanabha, O foremost of all regenerate persons. With him I have some business. I have heard that he is not at home and that, therefore, I am not now near his present quarters. Like a Chataka waiting in expectation of the clouds, I am waiting for him whom I regard as dear to me. For dispelling all evil from him and bringing about what is beneficial to him, I am engaged in reciting the Vedas till he comes and am in Yoga and passing my time happily.' "'"The Naga said, 'Verily, thy conduct is exceedingly good. Pious thou art and devoted to the good of all righteous persons. O highly blessed Brahmana, every praise is due to thee. Thou beholdest the Naga with eyes of affection. I am that Naga, O learned Rishi, whom thou seekest. Do thou command me, as thou wishest, in respect of what is agreeable to thee and what I should do for thee. Having heard from my spouse that thou art here, I have approached this spot, O regenerate one, for beholding thee. When thou hast come hither, thou art certain to return hence with thy object fulfilled. It behoveth thee, O foremost of regenerate persons, to employ me to any task with all confidence. All of us have certainly been purchased by thee with thy merits,[1939] since thou, disregarding what is for thy own good, hast employed thy time in seeking the good of ourselves.' "'"The Brahmana said, 'O highly blessed Naga, I have come hither, moved by the desire of obtaining a sight of thee. I have come here, ignorant as I am with all things, for asking thee about something. O Naga, relying on the Jiva-soul, I desire to attain to the Supreme Soul which is the end of the Jiva-soul. I am neither attached to, nor dissociated from, the world.[1940] Thou shinest with the effulgence of thy own merits covered by pure fame,--with an effulgence that is as agreeable as that of the moon. O thou that livest on air alone, do thou first answer a question that I wish to put to thee. Afterwards I shall inform thee of the object that has brought me hither!'"'" SECTION CCCLXII "'"The Brahmana said, 'Thou goest away for dragging the one-wheeled car of Vivaswat according to thy turn. It behoveth thee to describe to me anything wonderful that thou mayst have noticed in those regions through which thou sojournest!' "'"The Naga said, 'The divine Surya is the refuge or home of innumerable wonders. All the creatures that inhabit the three worlds have flowed from Surya. Innumerable Munis, crowned with ascetic success, together with all the deities, reside in the rays of Surya like birds perching on the branches of trees. What, again, can be more wonderful than this that the mighty Wind, emanating from Surya, takes refuge in his ray and thence yawns over the universe? What can be more wonderful than this, O regenerate Rishi, that Surya, dividing the Wind into many portions from desire of doing good to all creatures, creates rain that falls in the rainy season? What can be more wonderful than this that the Supreme Soul, from within the solar disc, himself bathed in blazing effulgence, looketh upon the universe? What can be more wonderful than this that Surya has a dark ray which transforms itself into clouds charged with rain and pours showers of rain when the season comes? What can be more wonderful than this that drinking up for eight months the rain he pours down, he pours it down once again in the rainy season? In certain rays of Surya, the Soul of the universe is said to reside. From Him is the seed of all things, and it is He that upholds the Earth with all her mobile and immobile creatures. What can be more wonderful, O Brahmana, than this, that the foremost of Purushas, eternal and mighty-armed, endued with exceeding effulgence, eternal, and without beginning and without end, resides in Surya? Listen however, to one thing I shall tell you now. It is the wonder of wonders. I have seen it in the clear sky, in consequence of my adjacence to Surya. In former times, one day at the hour of noon, while Surya was shining in all his glory and giving heat to everything we beheld a Being coming towards Surya, who seemed to shine with effulgence that was equal to that of Surya himself. Causing all the worlds to blaze up with his glory and filling them with his energy, he came, as I have already told thee, towards Surya, rending the firmament, as it were, for making his path through it. The rays that emanated from his body seemed to resemble the blazing effulgence of libations of clarified butter poured into the sacrificial fire. In consequence of his energy and splendour he could not be looked at. His form seemed to be indescribable. Indeed, he appeared to us to be like a second Surya. As soon as he came near, Surya extended his two hands (for giving him a respectful reception). For honouring Surya in return, he also extended his right-hand. The latter then, piercing through the firmament, entered into Surya's disc. Mingling then with Surya's energy, he seemed to be transformed into Surya's self. When the two energies thus met together, we were so confounded that we could not any longer distinguish which was which. Indeed, we could not make out who was Surya whom we bore on his car, and who was the Being that we had seen coming through the sky. Filled with confusion, we then addressed Surya, saying,--"O illustrious one who is this Being that has mixed himself with thee and has been transformed into thy second self?"'"'" SECTION CCCLXIII "'"'Surya said, "This Being is not the god of fire, he is not an Asura. Nor is he a Naga. He is a Brahmana who has attained to heaven in consequence of his having been crowned with success in the observance of the vow called Unccha.[1941] This person had subsisted upon fruits and roots and upon the fallen leaves of trees. He had sometimes subsisted upon water, and sometimes upon air alone, passing his days with concentrated soul. The deity Mahadeva had been gratified by him with constant recitation of the Samhitas. He had endeavoured to accomplish those acts that lead to heaven. Through the merits of those acts he hath now attained to heaven. Without wealth and without desire of any kind, he had observed the vow called Unccha in the matter of his sustenance. This learned Brahmana, ye Nagas, had been devoted to the good of all creatures. Neither deities, nor Gandharvas, nor Asuras, nor Nagas, can be regarded as superior to those creatures that attain to this excellent end of coming into the solar disc?"--Even such, O regenerate one, was the wonderful incident that I beheld on that occasion. That Brahmana, who was crowned with success by the observance of the Unccha vow and who thus obtained an end that persons crowned with ascetic success acquire, to this day, O regenerate one, goes round the Earth, staying in the disc of Surya!'"'" [NOTE: There was no section CCLXIV in the source edition.--JBH] SECTION CCCLXV "'"The Brahmana said, 'Without doubt, this is very wonderful, O Naga, I have been highly gratified by listening to thee. By these words of thine that are fraught with subtile meaning, thou hast shown me the way I am to follow. Blessed be thou, I desire to depart hence. O best of Nagas, thou shouldst recollect me now and then and enquire after me by sending thy servant.' "'"The Naga said, 'The object that brought thee here is still in thy breast, for thou hast not as yet disclosed it to me. Where then wilt thou go? Tell me, O regenerate one, what should be done by me, and what that object is which brought thee hither. After the accomplishment of thy business, whatever it is, expressed or unexpressed in speech, thou mayst depart, O foremost of regenerate persons, saluting me and dismissed by me cheerfully, O thou of excellent vows. Thou hast conceived a friendship for me. O regenerate Rishi, it behoveth thee not to depart from this place after having only seen me, thyself sitting under the shade of this tree. Thou hast become dear to me and I have become dear to thee, without doubt. All the persons in this city are thine. What objection then is there, O sinless one, to pass some time in my house?--' "'"The Brahmana said, 'It is even so, O thou of great wisdom, O Naga that hast acquired a knowledge of the soul. It is very true that the deities are not superior to thee in any respect. He that is thyself, is verily myself, as he that is myself is truly thyself. Myself, thyself, and all other creatures, shall all have to enter into the Supreme Soul. Doubt penetrated my mind, O chief of Nagas, in the matter of the best means for winning righteousness or merit. That doubt has been dispelled by thy discourse, for I have learnt the value of the Unccha vow. I shall hence follow that which is so very efficacious in the matter of beneficial consequences. That, O blessed one, has become my certain conclusion now, based on excellent reasons. I take thy leave. Blessings to thee. My object has been accomplished, O Naga.'" "'Bhishma said, "Having saluted that foremost of Nagas in this way, the Brahmana (named Dharmaranya), firmly resolved to follow the Unccha mode of life, proceeded to the presence, O king, of Chyavana of Bhrigu's race, from desire of being formally instructed and initiated in that vow.[1942] Chyavana performed the Samskara rites of the Brahmana and formally initiated him into the Unccha mode of life. The son of Bhrigu, O monarch, recited this history to king Janaka in his place. King Janaka, in his turn, narrated it to the celestial Rishi Narada of high soul. The celestial Rishi Narada too, of stainless acts, repairing on one occasion to the abode of Indra, the chief of the deities, gave to Indra this history upon being asked by him. The chief of the celestials, having obtained it thus from Narada, recited this blessed history to a conclave consisting of all the foremost Brahmanas, O monarch. On the occasion, again, of my dreadful encounter with Rama of Bhrigu's race (on the field of Kurukshetra), the celestial Vasus, O king, recited this history to me.[1943] Asked by thee, O foremost of righteous men, I have recited this history that is excellent and sacred and fraught with great merit. Thou hadst asked me about what constitutes the highest duty, O king. This history is my answer to thy query. A brave man he was, O monarch, that betook himself to the practice of the Unccha vow in this way, without expectation of any fruit. Firmly resolved, that Brahmana, instructed, by the chief of Nagas in this way about his duty, betook himself to the practice of Yama and Niyama, and subsisting the while upon such food as was allowed by the Unccha vow, proceeded to another forest."'" The end of Santi Parva. FOOTNOTES 1. Literally, the period of impurity. The period of mourning is the period of impurity, according to the Hindu scriptures. By performing the Sraddha rite, one becomes pure again. Till then, one can perform no religious rites. 2. Literally, "shall not appear to thee by inward light." 3. The meaning is this, "This weapon shall not dwell with thee up to thy last moments. Thou shalt forget it or it shall not appear at thy bidding, when thy death becomes nigh, though at other times, thou mayst be master of it." 4. The Kurus, our foes, having fallen in battle, have all gone to heaven, while grief has become our lot. 5. Sanjata Valaratnesu is the true reading. 6. The Bombay reading Jayaphalam is correct. The Bengal reading Jammaphalam, however, is not unmeaning. 7. What Yudhishthira says here is this: all the warriors that have been slain in this battle have perished, they have not attained to heaven; if, indeed, heaven has been theirs, then the slayers too would obtain heaven, the scriptural ordinance having said so. It is impossible, however, to suppose that men of wrath who have done such wicked deeds should obtain such regions of bliss hereafter. 8. Pairs of opposites, such as heat and cold, joy and grief, etc. Comp. Gita. 9. Because wealth enables its possessor to practise the rites of religion. 10. The sense is that when I will not wrong the denizens of even the woods, there is little chance of my wronging men of the world. 11. There is a class of recluses who support life by gathering the fallen fruits of trees. Taking the tree for a living person, they walk under its shade and beg of it its fruits. Those fruits that fall down on such occasions are regarded as the alms granted by the tree to its mendicant guest. 12. All the possessions of a man depend upon the acts of a previous life. Wives, children and kinsmen, therefore, as agents of happiness or the reverse, depend upon one's past acts. They are effects of pre-existing causes. Then again, they may be causes of effects to be manifested in the next life, for their acts also are supposed to affect the next life of him to whom they belong. 13. i.e., they for whom he acts do not take the consequences of his acts. 14. Bhagena is explained by Nilakantha as swargaisysaryena. 15. The sense is that as the Ordainer cannot be censured, therefore, that which He has ordained for the Kshatriyas cannot be deserving of censure. 16. The meaning is that they who perform sacrifice and partake of the sacrificial food after offering it unto gods and guests, acquire such religious merit that the like of it cannot be acquired by other men. Sacrifice, therefore, is the highest act in life and the most meritorious that man can do. 17. The iti after vadi is really eti, the absence of sandhi in the proper form is Arsha. Literally rendered, the line becomes,--According to the manner in which the person of firm conviction approaches the Soul, is the success that he gets here. As the Srutis declare, if one firmly regards oneself to be Siva, the success one attains here and hereafter is after the kind of that deity. 18. The brevity of such passages is the chief obstacle to their clear comprehension. Fortunately the allusions are very plain. What is meant is that those who die during the lighted fortnights of the summer solstice attain to solar regions of bliss. Those that die during the dark fortnights of the winter solstice, attain to lunar regions. These last have to return after passing their allotted periods of enjoyment and happiness. While those that are freed from attachments, whatever the time of their Death, go to Stellar regions which are equal to that of Brahma. 19. Without attaining to the companionship of the gods and Pitris, and without obtaining Brahma, they sink in the scale of being and become worms and vermin. 20. The sense is that the gods themselves have become so by action. 21. The first word is compounded of an and astika. 22. Deva-yana is the Yana or way along which the deities have gone, the strict observance of the Vedic rites. 23. Renouncer of his own self, because he dries up his very body by denying himself food. 24. Such a person also is not a true renouncer. For a Kshatriya, again, such a mode of life would be sinful. 25. Nilakantha thinks that the object of this verse is to show that even such a life properly appertains to a Brahmana and not to a Kshatriya. Therefore, if Yudhishthira would, without reigning, live quietly in the kingdom governed by some brother of his, he would then be equally sinning. 26. Acts done from vanity, i.e., with the bragging consciousness of one being himself the actor and the arranger of everything. Acts done from a spirit of renunciation, i.e., without hope of reaping their fruits. 27. The threefold aims, i.e., Religion, Pleasure and Profit. 28. Antarala is thus explained by Nilakantha. 29. Sariram is contra-distinguished from Vahyam. The first is explained as appertaining to or encased in Sarira, i.e., the mind. 30. What Sahadeva wishes to say is that everything proceeds from selfishness is productive of death, while everything proceeding from an opposite frame of mind leads to Brahma or immortality. 31. The meaning entirely depends upon the word Swabhavam, manifestation of self. In the second line, if Vrittam be read for Bhutam the sense would remain unaltered. 32. The three kinds of angas referred to, as explained by Nilakantha are (1) the strength that depends on the master, (2) that depending on good counsels, and (3) that depending on the perseverance and the courage of the men themselves. 33. Literally, "crushed with the rod of chastisement." 34. Censure is the only punishment for a Brahmana offender. A Kshatriya may be punished by taking away all property, but care should be taken to give him food sufficient for maintaining life. A Vaisya should be punished by forfeiture of possessions. There is practically no punishment for a Sudra, for being unable to possess wealth, dispossession of wealth cannot be a punishment in his case; again, service being his duty, the imposition of labour on him cannot be a punishment. For all that, hard work may be imposed upon him. 35. A fisherman who would not slay fish would go without food. 36. The sense is that if in supporting life one kills these creatures, he does not in any way commit sin. 37. Bhoga is explained by Nilakantha as Palanaya (maryyadaya). 38. The meaning seems to be that the milch cow suffers herself to be milked, only through fear of chastisement, and maidens also marry, without practising free love, through fear of chastisement by the king, society, or Yama in the next world. 39. If this does not come up to the grossness of the doctrine--spare the rod and ruin the child,--it at least is plain that the fear of being regarded a dunce and a fool and incurring the ridicule or displeasure of the tutor and class-mates, induces one to acquire knowledge. 40. The illustration used by the commentator is that it is better to kill the tiger that has invaded the fold than remain quiet for fear of injuring that beast of prey and commit sin. For that slaughter there is merit, for if not slaughtered, the beast will slaughter the kine before the spectator's eyes and the latter would incur sin by passively witnessing the sight. At any rate, to be more general, it is better to injure, says Arjuna, from righteous motives than not to injure from fear of sin. 41. Otherwise named phlegm, bile and wind. 42. The sense is that thou wert ever superior to joy and grief and never sufferedst thyself, to be elated with joy or depressed with grief. 43. The argument seems to be this: if it is thy nature to call back thy woes even when happiness is before thee, why dost thou not then recollect the insult to your wife? The recollection of this insult will fill thee with wrath and convince thee that in slaying thy foes,--those insulters of thy wife--thou hast acted very properly. 44. The meaning is that in consequence of thy abandonment of prosperity and kingdom and, therefore, of the means of effecting thy salvation by sacrifice and gifts and other act of piety, thou shalt have to be re-born and to renew this mental battle with thy doubts. 45. This is a difficult verse, and I am not sure that I have understood it correctly. Gantavyam is explained by Nilakantha as connected with paramavyaktarupasya. According to Nilakantha, this means that thou shouldst go to, i.e. conquer, and identify thyself with, the param or foe of that which is of unmanifest form, the mind; of course, this would mean that Yudhishthira should identify himself with his own soul, for it is the soul which is his foe and with which he is battling. Such conquest and identification implies the cessation of the battle and, hence, the attainment of tranquillity. 46. The condition of Draupadi's lock,--i.e., thou hast been restored to the normal condition. Draupadi had kept her locks dishevelled since the day they had been seized by Duhsasana. After the slaughter of the Kurus, those locks were bound up as before, or restored to their normal condition. 47. The Bengal tiger acts as a fisher to both animals and men. When the tiger goes on a fishing expedition, what it usually does is to catch large fishes from shallow streams and throw them landwards far from the water's edge. The poor beast is very often followed, unperceived, by the smaller carnivorous animals, and sometimes by bands of fishermen. I have seen large fishes with the claw-marks of the tiger on them exposed for sale in a village market. 48. The sense seems to be that unless kings perform such penances they cannot escape hell. Such penances, however, are impossible for them as long as they are in the midst of luxuries. To accept wealth and not use it, therefore, is impracticable. 49. i.e., Thou art not liberated from desire. 50. The false speech, in this instance, consists in professing one's self to be really unattached while enjoying wealth and power, i.e., the hypocritical profession of renunciation in the midst of luxuries. As already said by Yudhishthira, such renunciation is impracticable. 51. The path of the Pitris means the course of Vedic rites by which one attains to bliss hereafter. The path of the gods means the abandonment of religious rites for contemplation and pious conduct. 52. This truth has been expressed in various forms of language in various passages of the Mahabharata. The fact is, the unification of infinite variety and its identification with the Supreme Soul is attainment of Brahma. One, therefore, that has attained to Brahma ceases to regard himself as separate from the rest of the universe. Selfishness, the root of sin and injury, disappears from him. 53. i.e., Sacrifice. 54. Literally, 'thy resolution is of one kind, while thy acts are of another kind!' 55. Paratantreshu is explained by Nilakantha as "dependent on destiny." If this means the fate that connects one's present life with the acts of a former one, the explanation is not incorrect. The more obvious meaning, however, is "dependent on action." 56. A wedded wife is the companion of one's religious acts. 57. Thou shouldst not, therefore, abandon action. 58. The meaning seems to be this: if a person can truly act up to his resolution of complete renunciation of everything, then that person stands alone in the midst of the world, and he is nobody's, and nobody is his. Hence, he can neither be pleased nor displeased with any one. King Janaka's abandonment, therefore, of wife and kingdom, is inconsistent with that perfect renunciation or withdrawal of self within self. He might continue to enjoy his possessions without being at all attached to or affected by them. 59. Such libations, to be efficacious, ought to be poured upon fires properly kindled with mantras. 60. Therefore, Janaka should resume his kingdom and practise charity; otherwise, religious mendicants would be undone. 61. Such an man might rule even a kingdom without forfeiting his title to be regarded a mendicant, for he might rule without attachment. 62. Refers to the well-known definition of the soul or mind in the Nyaya philosophy, which says that it is distinguished by the attributes of desire, aversion, will, pleasure and pain, and the cognitive faculties. 63. The soul, though really bereft of attributes, nevertheless revolves in a round among creatures, i.e., enters other bodies on the dissolution of those previously occupied. The reason of this round or continual journey is Avidya or illusion, viz., that absence of true knowledge in consequence of which men engage themselves in action. When the soul is freed from this Avidya, action ceases, and the soul becomes revealed in its true nature, which consists in the absence of all attributes. 64. Hetumantah Panditah means--learned in the science of reasoning; Dridhapurve is explained by Nilakantha as persons endued with strong convictions of a past life: Suduravartah means difficult of being made to understand. 65. The sense is that instead of performing sacrifices after acquisition of wealth, it is better not to perform sacrifices if they cannot be performed without wealth. Nilakantha, by interpreting Dhanahetu as sacrifices which have wealth for the means of their accomplishment, would come to this meaning directly. 66. Atmanam is explained by Nilakantha as meaning something that is regarded as dear as self, i.e., wealth. Such a person incurs the sin of killing a foetus, because that sin proceeds from killing one's own self. Improper use of wealth is, of course, regarded as killing one's own self. 67. The Srutis declare that he who frightens others is frightened himself; while he who frightens not, is not himself frightened. The fruits won by a person correspond with his practices. Yudhishthira is, therefore, exhorted to take the sovereignty, for sovereignty, righteously exercised and without attachment, will crown him with bliss hereafter. 68. Naikam na chapare is explained by Nilakantha thus. Literally, this means that it is not that others do not (praise) ekam or contemplation, i.e., some there are that praise contemplation or meditation. 69. Literally, the absence of contentment with present prosperity. 70. Adadana is explained as a robber or one who forcibly takes other people's property. Some texts read nareswarah. The sense should remain unaltered. 71. Manu also mentions a sixth of the produce as the king's share. 72. Santyakatatma is explained by Nilakantha as without pride or resigned self. 73. Yoga is explained as vigour in action, nyasa as the abandonment of pride. 74. And that have, by their death, escaped from all grief. 75. Murcchitah is explained by Nilakantha as Vardhitah. 76. True knowledge is knowledge of Brahma. What is said here is that our conduct (acts) should be framed according to the opinion of persons possessed of such knowledge. 77. What the poet says here is this: it is better not to wish for or covet wealth as a means for the performance of sacrifices than to covet it for performing sacrifices. A poor man will act better by not performing sacrifices at all than by performing them with wealth acquired by the usual means. 78. The meaning is that I must undergo such a severe penance in order that in my next life I may not be born as an inferior animal but succeed in taking birth among men. 79. Even such i.e., spring from such causes. 80. Man covets freedom from decay and immortality, but instead of obtaining what he covets for, decay and death become his portion on Earth. 81. i.e., these appear and disappear in the course of Time. 82. Literally, the science of Life. 83. This inevitable and broad path is the path of Life. What is said here is that every creature is subject to birth. 84. The first line of this verse refers to the disputed question of whether the body exists independent of life, or the creature exists independent of the body. This is much disputed by Hindu philosophers. The gross body may be dissolved, but the linga sarira (composed of the subtlest elements) exists as a cause for the unborn Soul. This is maintained by many. 85. Param here is explained by Nilakantha as Paramatma. Pay court i.e., seek to obtain and enjoy them. 86. This sacrifice is one in which the performer parts with all his wealth. 87. Vasumati means possessed of wealth (from Vasu and the syllable mat). 88. The Bengal reading chainam in the first line of 31 is better than the Bombay reading chetya, which, Nilakantha explains, means chetanavan bhava. 89. These seven sacrifices were the Agnishtoma, the Atyagnishtoma, the Ukthya, the Shodashi, the Vajapeya, the Atiratra, and the Aptoryama. Each of these required the consecration of the Soma. 90. The expression used is "He caused one umbrella only to be set up." The custom is well-known that none but kings could cause umbrellas to be held over their heads. 91. Kanwa had brought up in his retreat Bharata's mother Sakuntala who had been deserted, immediately after her birth, by her mother, Menaka, Bharata himself was born in Kanwa's retreat. 92. Jaruthyan is explained by Nilakantha as Stutyan. It may also mean Triguna-dakshinan. 93. The legend about the bringing down of Ganga is very beautiful. Ganga is nothing else than the melted form of Vishnu. For a time she dwelt in the pot (Kamandalu) of Brahman. The ancestors of Bhagiratha having perished through Kapila's curse, Bhagiratha resolved to rescue their spirits by calling down Ganga from heaven and causing her sacred waters to roll over the spot where their ashes lay. He succeeded in carrying out his resolution after conquering many difficulties. Urvasi literally means one who sits on the lap. 94. Triple-coursed, because Ganga is supposed to have one stream in heaven, one on the earth, and a third in the nether regions. 95. The sense, I think, is that such was the profusion of Dilipa's wealth that no care was taken for keeping gold-decked elephants within guarded enclosures. 96. Satadhanwan is explained by Nilakantha as one whose bow is capable of bearing a hundred Anantas. 97. Literally, "Me he shall suck." 98. The Burdwan translators take Asita and Gaya as one person called Asitangaya, and K.P. Singha takes Anga and Vrihadratha to be two different persons. Of course, both are wrong. 99. Samyapat is explained as hurling a heavy piece of wood. What it meant here is that Yayati, having erected an altar, took up and hurled a piece of wood forward, and upon the place where it fell, erected another altar. In this way he proceeded till he reached the very sea shore. 100. Dakshinah is explained by Nilakantha as men possessed of Dakshya. It may mean liberal-minded men. 101. Literally, 'there was but one umbrella opened on the earth in his time.' 102. The word in the original is nala. Nilakantha supposes that it has been so used for the sake of rhythm, the correct form being nalwa, meaning a distance of four hundred cubits. 103. Literally, one whose excreta are gold. 104. A Kshatriya should protect a Brahmana in respect of his penances and a Vaisya in respect of the duties of his order. Whatever impediments a Brahmana or a Vaisya might encounter in the discharge of his duties, must be removed by a Kshatriya. 105. i.e., thou shouldst think that the consequences of all acts must attach to the Supreme Being himself, he being the urger of us all. 106. Na Para etc., i.e., there is no Supreme Being and no next world. 107. No one being free in this life, all one's acts being the result of previous acts, there can be no responsibility for the acts of this life. 108. The manner in which this great battle has been brought about shows evidence of design and not mere Chance. Nilakantha reads hatam which is evidently wrong. There can be no doubt that the correct reading is hatham. 109. Nilakantha explains this in a different way. He thinks that the expression Kritantavidhisanjuktah means,--'through their own faults.' 110. The performer of a hundred sacrifices. 111. i.e., charges his pupils a fee for teaching them the scriptures. 112. i.e., not in a sacrifice. 113. Jighansiat is Jighansi and iat, i.e., may proceed with intention to slay. 114. i.e., one who knows that the Soma is used in sacrifices for gratifying the gods. 115. The rule laid down is that he should eat in the morning for the first three days, in the evening for the second three days, eat nothing but what is got without soliciting, for the next three days, and fast altogether for the three days that follow. This is called Krischara-bhojana. Observing this rule for six years, one may be cleansed of the sin of slaying a Brahmana. 116. The harder rule referred to is eating in the morning for seven days; in the evening for the next seven days; eating what is got without soliciting, for the next seven days; and fasting altogether for the next seven. 117. These are the five products of the cow, besides earth, water, ashes, acids and fire. 118. Appropriation etc., as in the case of the king imposing fines on offenders and appropriating them to the uses of the state. Untruth, as that of the loyal servant or follower for protecting the life of his master. Killing, as that of an offender by the king, or in the exercise of the right of self-defence. 119. There were, as now, persons with whom the reading or recitation of the scriptures was a profession. The functions of those men were not unlike those of the rhapsodists of ancient Greece. 120. i.e., one possessed of a knowledge of the Vedas. 121. With very slight verbal alterations, this verse, as also the first half or the next, like many others, occurs in Manu, Vide Manu, Ch. II, V, 157-58. 122. Pratyasanna-vyasaninam is explained by Nilakantha as 'I stand near these distressed brothers of mine' (for whose sake only I am for accepting sovereignty). This is certainly very fanciful. The plain meaning is, 'I am about to lay down my life.' 123. The priest of the Kauravas. 124. Sami is the Acacia suma; Pippala is the Piper longum; and Palasa is the Butea frondosa. Udumvara is the Ficus glomerata. 125. These are peace, war, marching, halting, sowing dissensions, and defence of the kingdom by seeking alliances and building forts, &c. 126. For if he had acted otherwise, he would have been called ungrateful. 127. The literal meaning of Purusha, as applied to the Supreme Being, is 'One that pervades all forms in the Universe.' 128. i.e., Aditi and of Aditi's self as born in different shapes at different times. 129. Yugas may mean either the three ages Krita, Treta and Dwapara, or, the three pairs such as Virtue and Knowledge, Renunciation and Lordship, and Prosperity and Fame. 130. Virat is one superior to an Emperor and Swarat is one superior to a Virat. 131. Vishnu, assuming the form of a dwarf, deluded the Asura Vali into giving away unto him three worlds which he forthwith restored to Indra. 132. The son of Uttanapada, who in the Krita age had adored Vishnu at a very early age and obtained the most valuable boons. 133. Sudharman was the priest of the Kurus. How came Dhaumya, who was the priest of the Pandavas, to have from before an abode in the Kuru capital? 134. This is an allusion to Krishna's having covered the three worlds with three of his steps for deluding the Asura Vali and depriving him of universal sovereignty. 135. There are three states of consciousness in the case of ordinary men, viz., waking, dream, and sound sleep. The fourth state, realisable by Yogins alone, is called Turiya. It is the state of perfect unconsciousness of this world, when the soul, abstracted within itself, is said to be fixed upon the Supreme Being or some single object. 136. Mind, as used generally in Hindu philosophy, is the seat of the senses and the feelings. Buddhi is the Understanding or the cognitive faculties of the Kantian school. The Bombay reading of the second line is correct. It is Gunadevah Kshetrajne etc. Nilakantha correctly explains it as Savdadiguna-bhajodevah, i.e., the senses. 137. The Supreme Being is called here and elsewhere Hansa, i.e., swan, because as the swan is supposed to transcend all winged creatures in the range of its flight, so the Supreme Being transcends all creatures in the universe. He is called That, as in the Vedic formula of Praise, "Thou art That," meaning, "Thou art inconceivable and incapable of being described in words." 138. Created things have attributes. It is Brahma only that has no attributes, in the sense that no attributes with which we are familiar can be affirmed of him. 139. The Vaks are the mantras; the Anuvaks are those portions of the Vedas which are called Brahmanas; the Nishads are those portions of the Vedic ritual which lead to an acquaintance with the gods. The Upanishads are those portions which treat exclusively of the knowledge of the Soul. 140. Quadruple soul, i.e., Brahma, Jiva, Mind, and Consciousness. The four names under which the Supreme Being is adored by the faithful are Vasudeva, Sankarsana, Pradyumna, and Aniruddha. 141. Penances are ever present in thee, in the sense thou art never without them, penances constituting thy essence. Performed by creatures, they live in thy limbs, in the sense that penances performed are never lost. 142. In ancient India, the Rishis living in the woods got their fire by rubbing two sticks together. These they called Arani. Brahma on earth is explained by Nilakantha to mean the Vedas, the Brahmanas, and the Sacrifices. 143. These are the twelve Adityas or chief gods. 144. Thou art pure Knowledge and resident beyond the darkness of ignorance. I bow to thee not in any of those forms in which thou art ordinarily adored but in that form of pure light which Yogins only can behold by spiritual sight. 145. The five libations are Dhana, Karambha, Parivapa, and water. The seven woofs are the seven mantras (Cchandas) predominating in the Vedic hymns, such as Gayatri, etc. 146. The Prajapatis who are the creators of the universe performed a sacrifice extending for a thousand years. The Supreme Being appeared in that sacrifice as an act of grace to the sacrificers. 147. Sandhis are those changes of contiguous vowels (in compounding two words) that are required by the rules of euphony. Akshara is literally a character or letter; word made up of characters or letters. 148. The manifest is the body. The Rishis seek thy unmanifest self within the body, in their own hearts. Kshetra is buddhi or intelligence. The Supreme Being is called Kshetrajna because he knows every mind. Intelligence or mind is one of his forms. 149. The sixteen attributes are the eleven senses and the five elements in their subtle forms called Mahabhutas. Added to this is Infinity. The Supreme Being, according to the Sankhya doctrine, is thus the embodiment of the number seventeen. Thy form as conceived by the Sankhyas, i.e., thy form as Number. 150. In cases of those that are reborn, there is always a residuum of sin and merit for which they have, in their earthly life, to suffer and enjoy. In the case, however, of those that have betaken themselves to a life of renunciation the great endeavour is to exhaust this residuum. 151. i.e. that which is chewed, that which is sucked, that which is licked, and that which is drunk. 152. All creatures are stupefied by love and affection. The great end which the Yogins propose to themselves is to tear those bonds rising superior to all the attractions of the flesh to effect their deliverance or emancipation from rebirth. 153. i.e. Brahmacharin. 154. Linum usitatissimun. 155. Samsara is the world or worldly life characterised by diverse attachments. Reflection on Hari frees one from those attachments. Or, Samsara may mean the repeated deaths and births to which the unemancipated soul is subject. Contemplation of the divine Being may prevent such repeated births and deaths by leading to emancipation. 156. i.e. One that goes thither is not subject to rebirth. 157. The Vedas constitute the speech of the Supreme Being. Everything about morality occurs in them. 158. Literally, 'Everything thou knowest shall appear to thee by inward light.' 159. The sense is, I who have already the full measure of fame can scarcely add to my fame by doing or saying anything. 160. Literally,--'the eternal bridge of virtue.' 161. In the sense of being liberal. A king should not too minutely enquire into what is done with the things belonging to him. 162. Literally, 'worthy of being used by the king.' 163. Literally 'the Brahmana that would not leave his home.' The verse has been quoted in this very Parvan previously. 164. These seven limbs are the king, army, counsellors, friends, treasury, territory, and forts. 165. These six are peace (with a foe that is stronger), war (with one of equal strength), marching (to invade the dominions of one who is weaker), halting, seeking protection (if weak in one's own fort), and sowing dissensions (among the chief officers of the enemy). 166. Asambhayan is explained by Nilakantha as 'incapable of being overreached by foes.' 167. In the sense that without royal protection, the world soon comes to grief. 168. The duties of the cow-herd should lead him to the fields. If without manifesting any inclination for going to the fields he likes to loiter within the village he should not be employed. Similarly the barber's duties require his presence within the village. If without being present there he likes to wander in the woods, he should never be employed, for it may then be presumed that he is wanting in that skill which experience and habit bring. These two verses are often quoted in conversation by both the learned and unlearned equally. 169. Eloquent Brahmanas learned in the scriptures are heroes of speech. Great Kshatriya kings are heroes of exertion. 170. Men, by pouring libations of clarified butter on sacrificial fires, feed the gods. The latter, fed by those libations, pour rain on the earth whence men derive their sustenance. Men therefore are said to pour upwards and the gods pour downwards. 171. Conversation in respect of the wealth of traders and merchants; Growth in respect of the penances of ascetics; and Destruction in respect of thieves and wicked men. All these depend upon Chastisement. 172. The Burdwan Pundits have been very careless in translating the Santi Parva. Their version is replete with errors in almost every page. They have rendered verse 78 in a most ridiculous way. The first line of the verse merely explains the etymology of the word Dandaniti, the verb ni being used first in the passive and then in the active voice. The idam refers to the world, i.e., men in general. K.P. Singha's version of the Santi is better, and, of course, gives the correct sense of this verse. 173. Literally, rose above the five in the sense of having renounced the world. The Burdwan Pundits erroneously render it "died." 174. A Manwantara is a very long period of time, not unequal to a geological age. 175. "Numbered among human gods," i.e., among kings. 176. The correct reading is charanishpanda as given in the Bombay edition. 177. In both the vernacular versions the second line of 130 has been rendered wrongly. The two lines are quite unconnected with each other. Nilakantha rightly supposes that Karyam is understood after Mahikshitah. Karana, however, is not kriya as explained by Nilakantha but opportunities and means. 178. Nilakantha explains this verse erroneously. He thinks that the meaning is--"The king becomes obedient to that person who beholds his face to be amiable, etc., etc." It should be borne in mind that Bhishma is answering Yudhishthira's query as to why the whole world adores one man. One of the reasons is a mysterious influence which induces every man who beholds the amiable face of the king to render him homage. 179. The difference between a Ritwija and a Purohita is that the former is engaged on special occasions, while the services of the latter are permanent and constant. 180. viz., returning unwounded from battle. 181. For without battle, he cannot extend his kingdom and acquire wealth to give away and meet the expenses of sacrifices. 182. A Beshtana is literally a cloth tied round (the head); hence, a turban or pagree. The word Ousira is applied to both beds and seats. The Hindu Upanaha had wooden soles. 183. The Burdwan Pundits understand this verse to mean that the Sudra should offer the funeral cake unto his sonless master and support masters if old and weak. There can be little doubt that they are wrong. 184. Atirekena evidently means 'with excessive zeal.' Nilakantha explains it as 'with greater zeal than that which is shown in supporting his own relations.' It cannot mean, as K.P. Singha puts it, 'with the surplus left after supporting his own relations.' 185. A Paka-yajna is a minor sacrifice, such as the propitiation of a planet foreboding evil, or worship offered to the inferior deities called Viswadevas. A Purnapatra is literally a large dish or basket full of rice. It should consist of 256 handfuls. Beyond a Purnapatra, the Sudra should not give any other Dakshina in any sacrifice of his. 186. This ordinance lays down that the Dakshina should be a hundred thousand animals such as kine or horses. In the case of this particular Sudra, that ordinance (without its mantras) was followed, and a hundred thousand Purnapatras were substituted for kine or horses of that number. 187. Hence the Sudra, by devotion to the members of the three other classes, may earn the merit of sacrifices though he is not competent to utter mantras. 188. For this reason the Sudra earns the merit of the sacrifices performed by their Brahmana masters and progenitors. 189. The Brahmana conversant with the Vedas is himself a god. The Sudra, though incompetent to read the Vedas and utter Vedic mantras, has Prajapati for his god whom he can worship with rites other than those laid down in the Vedas. The Brahmanas have Agni for their god, and the Kshatriyas, Indra. Upadravah means a servant or attendant, hence, a Sudra. 190. Sacrifices are performed by the body, by words, and by the mind. The Brahmana can perform sacrifices by all the three. The Kshatriya and the Vaisya cannot perform sacrifices by means of their bodies. They must employ Brahmanas in their sacrifices. These two orders, however, can utter mantras and perform mental sacrifices. The Sudra alone cannot employ his body or utter mantras in sacrifices. The holy sacrifice in his case is the mental sacrifice. A mental sacrifice is a resolve to give away in honour of the gods or unto the gods without the aid of the Vedic ritual. The resolve must be followed by actual gifts. 191. i.e.. for the Sudras also. 192. All sacrificial fires, as a rule, are procured from the houses of Vaisyas. The sacrificial fire of the Sudra is called Vitana. 193. Though originally one, the Vedas have become diverse. Similarly, from the Brahmana, who created first, all the rest have sprung. 194. Literally, 'with eyes, head, and face on all sides.' 195. The sense seems to be that influenced by past acts everyone acts in subsequent lives. If he is a hunter in this life, it is because the influence of many cruel acts of a past life pursues him even in this. 196. Men, therefore, have not always balances of good acts to their credit. These are, however, free agents; the new acts they do determine the character of their next lives. 197. i.e., Their services as priests should not be taken. 198. Although I adopt Nilakantha's explanation of Susrushu here, yet I think that word may be taken here, as elsewhere, to have been used in the sense of one doing (menial) service. 199. The king is entitled to a sixth of the merits acquired by his subjects. The total merit, therefore, of the king, arising from renunciation, is very great. Besides, the merit of every kind of renunciation belongs to him in that way. 200. i.e., for ascertaining whether kingly duties are superior to those laid down for the several modes of life. 201. Probably, in the sense of there being exceptions and limitations in respect to them. 202. i.e., 'spread confusion on earth.' 203. The sense seems to be that having failed, after such comparison, to resolve their doubts, they waited upon Vishnu. 204. The Bengal reading satwatah seems to be an error. The Bombay text has saswatah. 205. Yama is explained by Nilakantha to mean Kshatriya dharmena. 206. Nilakantha thinks that Lingantargatam means omniscient. He is for taking this verse to mean--'Listen now to those duties about which thou askest my omniscient self.' Bhishma having acquired omniscience through Krishna's boon, refers to it here. The interpretation seems to be very far-fetched. 207. That object is Brahma. 208. i.e.. such a man acquires the merits of all the modes of life. 209. Dasadharmagatam is explained by Nilakantha as 'overcome with fear, etc.' Keeps his eye on the duties of all men,' i.e., protects all men in the discharge of their duties. 210. If this verse has a reference to kings, nyastadandah would mean one who punishes without wrath. 211. In this and the preceding verse, Sattwa, without being taken as used for intelligence, may be taken to mean 'the quality of goodness' as well. 212. Anidram is explained by Nilakantha as a kingdom where anarchy prevails, sleeplessness being its certain indication. 213. The sense seems to be that men patiently bear the injuries inflicted upon them by others, without seeking to right themselves by force, because they can invoke the king to punish the offenders. If there were no kings, immediate vengeance for even the slightest injuries would be the universal practice. 214. i.e., becoming foremost and happy here, attains to blessedness hereafter. 215. The Wind is said to be the charioteer of Fire, because whenever there is a conflagration, the Wind, appearing aids in extending it. 216. i.e., no one should covet the possessions of the king. 217. Kalya means able or strong; anakrandam is 'without allies'; anantaram means, 'without friends'; and Vyasaktam is 'engaged at war with another.' 218. Tatparah is explained by Nilakantha as Karshanaparah. 219. I follow Nilakantha in reading this verse. 220. Chaitya trees are those that are regarded holy and unto which worship is offered by the people. 221. Nilakantha thinks that ucchvasa means breath or air. The small doors, he thinks, are directed to be kept for the admission of air. 222. The tirthas are eighteen in number, such as the council-room etc. 223. Pays off his debt, i.e., discharges his obligations to the subjects. 224. The ablative has here the sense of "towards." 225. The correct reading seems to be sreshtham and not srishtam. If the latter reading be preferred, it would mean "the age called Krita that comes in Time's course." 226. i.e., these are the true sources of the royal revenue. 227. The meaning is that if a king attends only to the acquisition of wealth, he may succeed in acquiring wealth, but he will never succeed in earning religious merit. 228. Literally, 'never flourishes.' 229. The charcoal-maker uproots trees and plants, and burns them for producing his stock-in-trade. The flowerman, on the other hand, waters his trees and plants, and gathers only their produce. 230. Dharmakosha literally means the 'repository of all duties.' 231. Children is a euphemism for subjects, suggested by the word pitris to which it is antithetical. 232. Mahapathika is believed to mean a person making a voyage by the sea or the ocean, The literal meaning seems to be 'a person making a long or distant voyage.' 233. A Ritwij is a priest employed on a special occasion. A Purohita is one who always acts as a priest. 234. Ama is raw food, such as paddy or uncooked rice, or fruits, etc. 235. The allusion is to such men as Utanka and Parasara, who although they performed such cruel acts as the snake-sacrifice and the Rakshasa sacrifice, were none-the-less entitled to heaven. So Kshatriya kings, by invading the kingdoms of their foes and slaying thousands of Mali and animals, are nevertheless regarded to be righteous and ultimately go to heaven. 236. Kshatrarthe, i.e., for protecting the subjects. Anya means someone who is not a Kshatriya. Abhibhavet means 'subdues.' 237. Idam sastram pratidhanam na is thus explained by Nilakantha. In cases of incapacity, again, to give the prescribed Dakshina, the sacrificer is directed to give away all he has. This direction or command is certainly terrible, for who can make up his mind to part with all his wealth for completing a sacrifice? 238. The falsehood consists in finding substitutes for the Dakshina actually laid down. They are morsels of cooked food for a living cow, a grain of barley for a piece of cloth; a copper coin for gold; etc. 239. The fact is that although the sacrificer may not be able to give the Dakshina actually laid down in the Vedas, yet by giving its substitute he does not lose any merit, for a single Purnapatra (256 handfuls of rice) is as efficacious if given away with devotion, as the richest Dakshina. 240. i.e., such a sacrifice, instead of producing no merit, becomes the means of extending the cause of sacrifices. In other words, such a sacrifice is fraught with merit. 241. A Pavitra is made by a couple of Kusa blades for sprinkling clarified butter upon the sacrificial fire. 242. The fact is that Ahuka and Akrura were bitterly opposed to each other. Both of them, however, loved Krishna. Ahuka always advised Krishna to shun Akrura, and Akrura always advised him to shun Ahuka. Krishna valued the friendship of both and could ill dispense with either. What he says here is that to have them both is painful and yet not to have them both is equally painful. 243. The belief is still current that a wounded snake is certain to seek vengeance even if the person that has wounded it places miles of distance between himself and the reptile. The people of this country, therefore, always kill a snake outright and burn it in fire if they ever take it. 244. i.e., as long as they are paid and have in their hands what has been given to them. 245. i.e., shows these virtues in his conduct. 246. Tryavarah is explained by Nilakantha as "not less than three." The number laid down generally is five. In no case it should be less than three. 247. Water-citadels are those that are surrounded on all sides by a river or rivers, or the sea. Earth-citadels are those that are built, on plains fortified with high walls and encircled with trenches all around. Human-citadels are unfortified cities properly protected by guards and a loyal population. 248. Nilakantha says that this has reference to the second variety of citadels mentioned in the previous verse. 249. Such as banian, peepul, etc. These afford refreshing shade to sunburnt travellers. 250. 'Take wisdom,' i.e., consult with them. 'Should not always wait upon them, etc.' lest robbers should kill them, suspecting them to be depositories of the king's wealth. 251. The sense seems to be that if a sufficient margin of profit, capable of maintaining one at ease, be not left, one would refrain absolutely from work. The king, therefore, in taxing the outturns of work, should leave such a margin of profit to the producers. 252. The sense is that the subjects then, on occasions of their sovereign's want, hasten to place their resources at his disposal. 253. i.e., without injuring the source. 254. The Bengal reading of the first I me of this verse is vicious. The Bombay reading kinchidanapadi (for Kasyanchidpadi) is the correct one. The commentator explains that this has reference to alms, loans, and taxes. Both the Bengal translators have made nonsense of this and the following verse. 255. Karmabhedatah is explained differently by Nilakantha. He thinks that it means 'lest those acts suffer injury.' 256. Anga is literally a part. The idea, however, is that the wealthy form an estate in the realm. Kakud is the hump of the bull. The meaning, of course, is that the man of wealth occupies a very superior position. 257. i.e., before the Brahmanas get their fill. 258. The Brahmanas are authorities for guiding other men. When, therefore, a particular Brahmana leaves the kingdom, the people lose in him a friend, teacher, and guide. 259. The king should dissuade in the manner indicated in verse 4. If that does not suffice, and if the person intending to leave refers to the king's previous neglect, the king should ask forgiveness and, of course, assign to him the means of maintenance. 260. The original is elliptical in construction. The etat of the first line has been supplied in the translation. In rendering the second line, the second half should come first. The Burdwan version, as usual, is erroneous. K.P. Singh's also is incomplete and inaccurate. 261. The word used is Dasyus, literally, robbers; here, enemies of society and order. 262. Some texts read Yoddhyavyam for Boddhyavyam, and bhunjita for yunjita. 263. i.e., thou shouldst care for such opinion, without being angry with those that censure or blame thee. 264. i.e., they who have to undergo such privations in carrying on their useful occupation should not be taxed heavily. 265. The correct reading is bharanti. Taranti also may give the same meaning. K. P. Singh has erroneously rendered the second line. 266. i.e., goes to heaven. 267. Bhishma says that this discourse is very old. Probably this verse has reference to the writer's idea of the motives that impelled the Rishis of Brahmavarta when they devised for their Indian colony the kingly form of government. 268. This verse gives the etymology of the word Rajan and Vrishala. He in whom righteousness shines (rajate) is a Rajan; and he in whom righteousness, called Vrisha, disappear, is a Vrishala. Vide next verse. 269. The address Bharatarshabha is misplaced, seeing that it is Utathya who is speaking and Mandhatri who is listening. The sense of the verse is that it is the king who causes the age, for if he acts righteously, the age that sets in is Krita; if, on the other hand, he acts sinfully, he causes the Kali age to set in; etc. etc. 270. He who protects Weakness wins heaven, while he who persecutes it goes to hell. Weakness, thus, is a great thing. Its power, so to say, is such that it can lead to heaven and hell everyone with whom it may come into contact. 271. The keeper of a cow has to wait, till it calves, for milk. 272. The sense is, I suppose, that if the king be overtaken by destruction, his officers also do not escape. 273. Rajnah, Nilakantha thinks, is an accusative plural. 274. Some texts read Saranikan, meaning traders that make journeys and voyages. 275. The king is God (incarnate) unto all righteous men, because they may expect everything from him. As regards the second line, the meaning depends upon bharati, which as the commentator explains means, "obtains affluence or prosperity." For Patukah some texts read Pavakah. The meaning then would be "becomes as a fire," i.e., destroys his own roots, or, probably, becomes destructive to others. 276. K.P. Singh, I think, translates this verse erroneously. The Burdwan version is correct. The speaker, in this verse, desires to illustrate the force of righteous conduct. Transcriber's note: There was no corresponding footnote reference in the text, so I have assigned this footnote to an arbitrary location on the page--JBH. 277. Teshu i.e., unto the ministers already spoken of. 278. The sense of the passage is that the king should not ride vicious elephants and horses, should guard himself against poisonous reptiles and the arts of women, and should take particular care while ascending mountains or entering inaccessible regions such as forests and woody valleys. 279. The sense is that although it is laid down that kings should fight with those only that are of the kingly order, yet when the Kshatriyas do not arm themselves for resisting an invader, or other orders may fight for putting down those that so arm themselves against the kings. 280. The Bengal reading of this verse, which I adopt, is better than the Bombay reading. The Bengal reading is more consistent with what follows in verse 8. If the Bombay reading be adopted, the translation would run thus:--"One should not fight a Kshatriya in battle unless he has put on armour. One should fight with one, after challenging in those words--'Shoot, for I am shooting at thee.'" K.P. Singh's rendering is substantially correct. The Burdwan version, as usual, is wrong. 281. The distress referred to here is of being unhorsed or deprived of car or of weapons, etc. 282. The original is very elliptical. I, therefore, expand it after the manner of the commentator. Regarding the last half of the second line, I do not follow Nilakantha in his interpretation. 283. This verse also is exceedingly elliptical in the original. 284. The sense seems to be that in fighting with the aid of deceit the enemy should not be slain outright, such slaughter being sinful. Slaying an enemy, however, in fair fight is meritorious. 285. This verse is not intelligible, nor does it seem to be connected with what goes before. 286. The meaning is that king Pratardana took what is proper to be taken and hence he incurred no sin. King Divodasa, however, by taking what he should not have taken, lost all the merit of his conquests. 287. Nilakantha takes Mahajanam to mean the Vaisya traders that accompany all forces. Following him, the vernacular translators take that word in the same sense. There can be little doubt, however, that this is erroneous. The word means "vast multitudes." Why should Yudhishthira refer to the slaughter of only the Vaisyas in the midst of troops as his reason for supposing Kshatriya practices to be sinful? Apayana means "flight." I prefer to read Avayana meaning 'march.' 288. The protection of subjects is likened here to the performance of a sacrifice that has the merit of all sacrifices. The final present in that sacrifice is the dispelling of everybody's fear. 289. i.e., not at the weapon's edge, but otherwise. 290. Ajya is any liquid substance, generally of course clarified butter, that is poured upon the sacrificial fire. 291. Sphis is the wooden stick with which lines are drawn on the sacrificial platform. 292. The van of the hostile army is the place of his wives, for he goes thither as cheerfully as he does to such a mansion. Agnidhras are those priests that have charge of the celestial fires. 293. To take up a straw and hold it between the lips is an indication of unconditional surrender. 294. I do not understand how this is an answer to Yudhishthira's question. Nilakantha thinks that truth, in the above, means the ordinances in respect of Kshatriya duties; that Upapatti, which I understand means reasoning (or conclusion), indicates a disregard for life, for those ordinances lead to no other conclusion. Good behaviour, according to him, means encouraging the soldiers, speaking sweetly to them, and promoting the brave, etc. Means and contrivances consist in punishing desertion and cowardliness, etc. If Nilakantha be right, what Bhishma says is that battles (which, of course, are intended for the protection of righteousness) become possible in consequence of these four causes. 295. The seven stars of this constellation are supposed to be the seven great Rishis, viz., Marichi, Atri, Angira, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, and Vasishtha. 296. Venus. 297. Like Bhurisravas on the field of Kurukshetra. 298. Probably, one that has begun a sacrifice extending for a long period. The Yadava hero Akrura avoided challenges to battle by beginning a sacrifice. See Harivansa, the sections on the Syamantaka stone. 299. A form of expression meaning shameless. 300. This refers to death and physical pain, as explained by Nilakantha. 301. Skandha, Nilakantha thinks, means Samuha here. 302. i.e., the soldiers should be drawn up as to form a wedge-like appearance with a narrow head. 303. Kulinja has many meanings. Nilakantha think that the word, as used here, means 'snake.' 304. The object of these two verses is to indicate that a learned astrologer and a learned priest are certain means for procuring victories by warding off all calamities caused by unpropitious fate and the wrath of the gods. 305. If a single deer takes fright and runs in a particular direction, the whole herd follows it without knowing the cause. The simile is peculiarly appropriate in the case of large armies. Particularly of Asiatic hosts, if a single division takes to flight, the rest follows it. Fear is very contagious. The Bengal reading jangha is evidently incorrect. The Bombay reading is sangha. The Burdwan translators have attempted the impossible feat of finding sense by adhering to the incorrect reading. The fact is, they did not suspect the viciousness of the text. 306. I have endeavoured to give the very construction of the original. It is curious to see how the Burdwan Pundits have misunderstood the simple verse. 307. Samiti is explained by Nilakantha to mean battle, and vijasyasya as vijigishamanasya. Unless it be an instance of a cruce, vijasyasya can scarcely be understood in such a sense. 308. i.e., the king should try conciliation, sending at the same time an invading force, or making an armed demonstration. Such politic measures succeed in bringing about peace. 309. i.e., ascertaining everything regarding him. 310. The French had taken Alsace and Lorraine. That was an impolitic step, though, perhaps, Germany also, by taking back those provinces after they had been completely Frenchified, has committed the same mistake. Such injuries rankle in the heart and are never forgotten. 311. i.e., ruin him outright. 312. Brahma-dandah is the chastisement through the gods. When foes are not seen, i.e., when they are at a distance, the king should employ his priest to perform the rites of the Atharvan for bringing destruction upon them. In the case, however, of foes being seen, i.e., when they are near, he should move his troops without depending upon Atharvan rites. 313. Nipunam is explained by Nilakantha as Kusalam; and after drabhet pestum is understood. 314. The sixfold forces are foot, horse, elephants, cars, treasury, and traders following the camp. 315. I adopt Nilakantha's explanation of this verse. Loss of crops, etc. are the inevitable consequences of expeditions. The king, on such occasions, is obliged also to take particular care of the seven branches of administration. As these are all unpleasant, they should be avoided. 316. i.e., starts such subjects for conversation as do not arise naturally, for what he has in view is the proclaiming of the faults of other people, a topic in which he alone is interested and not his hearers. 317. In the Bengal texts there is an error of reading viz., Satru for Yatra in the first line of verse 3. The Burdwan Pundits repeat the error in their vernacular version. K.P. Singha, of course, avoids it. 318. The Bengal texts, in the second line of verse 7, contain an error, Saktincha is evidently a misreading for Sokancha. The Burdwan version, as a matter of course, repeats the error, while K.P. Singha avoids it. 319. i.e., though dispossessed of my kingdom, I cannot yet cast off the hope of recovering it. 320. i.e., he should think that his wealth has been given to him for the sake of friends and relatives and others. He will then succeed in practising charity. 321. Nilakantha explains Kusalah as niamatsarah and anyatra as Satrau. I do not follow him. 322. The Bengal texts read Vidhitsa dhanameva cha. This is evidently erroneous. The correct reading, as given in the Bombay text, is Vidhitsasadhanena cha. Both the Bengali versions are incorrect. 323. The Vilwa is the fruit of the Egle marmelos. 324. The sense seems to be that by causing thy foe to be attached to these things, the treasury of thy foe is likely to be exhausted. If this can be brought about, thy foe will soon be ruined. 325. i.e., for the ruler of Videhas. 326. Jitavat is explained by Nilakantha as prapta jaya. 327. The word is Gana. It literally means an assemblage. There can be no doubt that throughout this lesson the word has been employed to denote the aristocracy of wealth and blood that surround a throne. 328. If the king, moved by avarice, taxes them heavily, the aristocracy resent it and seek to pull down the king. 329. i.e., learned men of humility. 330. Probably, with the king. 331. The Burdwan Pundits make a mess of the last two verses. In 31, there is an incorrect reading in the Bengal texts. It is Pradhanaccha for pradanaccha. The Burdwan version repeats the error. K.P. Singha, of course, avoids it, but his version is rather incomplete. 332. Literally, "One should not follow that course of duty which they do not indicate. That again is duty which they command. This is settled." 333. Pratyasannah is explained by Nilakantha in a different way. I think, his interpretation is far-fetched. 334. i.e., who knows when truth becomes as harmful as untruth, and untruth becomes as righteous as truth. 335. Vide ante, Karna Parva. 336. Alludes to ante, Karna Parva. The Rishi, by pointing out the place where certain innocent persons had concealed themselves while flying from a company of robbers, incurred the sin of murder. 337. The allusion is to the story of an owl going to heaven for having, with his beaks, broken a thousand eggs laid by a she-serpent of deadly poison. The Burdwan Pundits have made nonsense of the first line of verse 8. There is no connection between the first and the second lines of this verse. K.P. Singha has rendered it correctly. 338. This refers to the well-known definition of Dharma ascribed to Vasishtha, viz., "That which is laid down in the Srutis and Smritis is Dharma." The defect of this definition is that the Srutis and the Smritis do not include every duty. Hence Vasishtha was obliged to add that where these are silent, the examples and practices of the good ought to be the guides of men, etc. 339. The Burdwan translator has made a mess of verse 21. K.P. Singha quietly leaves it out. The act is, Swakaryastu is Swakariastu, meaning 'let the appropriator be.' 340. The construction is elliptical. Yah samayam chikrashet tat kurvit. 341. The meaning is that though born in a low race, that is no reason why I should act like a low person. It is conduct that determines the race and not the race that determines conduct. There may be pious persons therefore, in every race. The Burdwan version of this line is simply ridiculous. 342. Yatram means, as explained by the commentator, the duties of government. 343. Nilakantha explains aparasadhanah as aparasa adhanah, i.e., without rasa or affection and without dhana or wealth. This is very far-fetched. 344. Perhaps the sense is that men of vigorous understanding think all states to be equal. 345. The true policy, therefore, is to wait for the time when the foe becomes weak. 346. Mridustikshnena is better than Mridutikshnena. 347. A bird that is identified by Dr. Wilson with the Parra Jacana. 348. In India, the commonest form of verbal abuse among ignorant men and women is 'Do thou meet with death,' or, 'Go thou to Yama's house.' What Bhishma says is that as these words are uttered in vain, even so the verbal accusations of wicked men prove perfectly abortive. 349. The Burdwan Pundits have totally misunderstood the first line of this verse. K.P. Singha has rendered it correctly. 350. A dog is an unclean animal in Hindu estimation. 351. The antithesis consists, as pointed out by Nilakantha, in this, viz., the man of high birth, even if ruined undeservedly, would not injure his master. The man however, that is of low birth, would become the foe of even a kind master if only a few words of censure be addressed to him. 352. Nilakantha explains that na nirddandvah means na nishparigrahah. 353. i.e., 'speak in brief of them, or give us an abridgment of thy elaborate discourses.' 354. i.e., as the commentator explains, keenness, when he punishes and harmlessness when he shows favour. 355. i.e., 'should assume the qualities (such as keenness, etc.), necessary for his object.' K.P. Singha's version of the last line of 8 is erroneous. The Burdwan version is right. 356. Vrihadvrikshamivasravat is explained by Nilakantha as Vrihantak Vrikshah Yatra; asravat is explained as rasamprasravat. I think Vrihadvriksham may be taken as a full-grown Palmyra tree. The sense is that as men always draw the juice from a full-grown tree and not from a young one, even so the king should take care as to how taxes should be laid upon subjects that are unable to bear them. 357. i.e., by tampering with the governors of the citadels and the garrisons of his foes, as the commentator explains. 358. i.e., that king who is vain and covetous. 359. Whether it belongs to himself or to any other person. 360. The sense seems to be that a king should always be guided by the precepts of the science of king-craft without depending upon chance. 361. i.e., he who earns religious merit is sure to obtain such regions; and as great merit may be acquired by properly discharging kingly duties one may, by such conduct, win much felicity hereafter. 362. Vyavahara is vi and avahara, hence that through which all kinds of misappropriation are stopped. It is a name applied to Law and administration of justice. 363. The commentator, in a long note, gives very fanciful explanations touching every one of these peculiarities of form. He understands Mrigaraja to mean the black antelope. I cannot reject the obvious meaning of the word. The object of the poet is simply to create a form that is frightful. 364. These are Righteousness, Law, Chastisement, God, and Living Creature. 365. The nearest approach in English to what is meant here by Vyavahara is Law. Three kinds of Vyavahara or Law are here spoken of. The first is the ordinary Law, according to which the disputes of litigants are decided, it includes both civil and criminal law, it is quaintly described here as Vattripratyayalakskana, i.e., 'characterised by a belief in either of two litigant parties.' When a suit, civil or criminal, is instituted, the king or those that act in the king's name must call for Evidence and decide the matter by believing either of the two parties. Then follows restoration or punishment. In either case, it is a form of Chastisement. The second kind of Vyavahara or Law is the ecclesiastical law of the Vedas. These are the precepts or injunctions laid down in those sacred books for regulating every part of human duty. The third kind of Vyavahara or Law is the particular customs of families or races. It is also called kulachara. Where Kulachara is not inconsistent or in open variance with the established civil or criminal Law, or is not opposed to the spirit of the ecclesiastical law as laid down in the Vedas, it is upheld. (Even the British courts of law uphold Kulachara, interpreting it very strictly). What Bhishma says here is that even Kulachara should not be regarded as inconsistent with the scriptures (Vedas and Smritis). 366. In the verse 52 Bhishma says that the first kind of Vyavahara or Law, i.e., the ordinary civil and criminal law of a realm, must be regarded as resting on the king. But as this kind of law has the Veda for its soul and has originally flowed from Brahman, a king incurs no sin by administering it and by inflicting chastisement in its administration. The purport in brief of verse 54 is that Manu and others, in speaking of Morality and duty have said that it is as binding as the ordinary law that is administered by kings. 367. Jataharamadisat may also mean 'ordered the removal of his matted locks'--in other words, 'had a shave.' 368. i.e., to acknowledge thee as a tutor. 369. The sense is that inasmuch as the Grandsire, who was the governor of the universe, assumed the mild and peaceful aspect of a sacrificer, Chastisement which had dwelt in his furious form could no longer exist. 370. Though Sula is mentioned, yet it is Vishnu and not Mahadeva, that is implied. Generally the word means any weapon. 371. The whole account contains more than one inconsistency. The commentator is silent. I think the inconsistencies are incapable of being explained. It is very probable that there have been interpolations in the passage. Verse 34 is probably an interpolation, as also verse 36. 372. i.e., Self-denial or discipline. 373. I have not the faintest idea of what is intended by these verses, viz., 43 and 51. Nilakantha is silent. It is very doubtful if they have really any meaning. 374. The commentator illustrates this by the action of a virtuous husband seeking congress with his wedded wife in the proper season. There is religious merit in the performance of the rites known by the name of Garbhadhana; there is pleasure in the act itself; and lastly, wealth or profit in the form of a son is also acquired. 375. There are three qualities or attributes that characterise human acts, viz., Goodness, Passion, and Darkness. Vide the latter sections of the Bhagavadgita. Such Virtue and Wealth and Pleasure, therefore, are not very high objects of pursuit. Things possessing the attribute of Goodness only are worthy of pursuit. 376. i.e., one should seek virtue for only compassing purity of soul; Wealth in order that one may spend it in acts undertaken without desire of fruit; and Pleasure for only supporting the body. 377. Dharmadinkamanaishthikan, i.e., having Dharma for the first and Karna for the last, hence Virtue, Wealth and Pleasure. 378. Pisitaudanam is food mixed with pounded meat; a kind of Pilau, or, perhaps, Kabab. 379. Vagagravidyanam is explained by Nilakantha to mean persons whose learning is at the end of their tongues and not buried in books; hence, persons of sharp memory. 380. The asker wishes to rob Prahlada of his conduct. 381. This lake is at a great height on the Himalayas. 382. The spirits of those two immortal sages are supposed to dwell for ever, in that retreat in the enjoyment of true happiness. 383. i.e., Hope is slender; while things unconnected with Hope are the reverse. 384. The sense is that such persons should always be distrusted. Yet there are men who hope for good from them. Such hope, the sage says, is slenderer than his slender body. 385. The word maya repeated in verses 14 to 18 is explained by Nilakantha as having the sense of mattah. The meaning, of course, is very plain. Yet the Burdwan translator has strangely misunderstood it. K.P. Singha, of course, gives an accurate version. 386. For the king's disregard of the sage in former days. 387. The distress, which Yudhishthira felt at the thought of the slaughter in battle. 388. i.e., this is not a subject upon which one can or should discourse before miscellaneous audiences. 389. i.e., by ingenious contrivances a king may succeed in filling his treasury, or his best ingenuity and calculations may fail. 390. i.e., with a pure heart. 391. i.e., when the season of distress is over. 392. i.e., under ordinary situations of circumstances. 393. i.e., he should perform expiations and do good to them whom he has injured, so that these may not remain discontented with him. 394. He should not seek to rescue the merit of other or of himself, i.e., he should not, at such times, refrain from any act that may injure his own merit or that of others; in other words, he may disregard all considerations about the religious merits of others and of himself His sole concern at such a time should be to save himself, that is, his life. 395. Sankhalikhitam, i.e., that which is written on the forehead by the Ordainer. 396. Literally, "cause to be removed." 397. The army and the criminal courts. 398. The commentator explains it in the following way. The ordinary texts, without exceptions of any kind, laid down for seasons of distress, permit a king to fill his treasury by levying heavy contributions on both his own subjects and those of hostile kingdoms. An ordinary king, at such a time, acts in this way. A king, however, that is endued with intelligence, while levying such contributions, takes care to levy them upon those that are wicked and punishable among his own subjects and among the subjects of other kingdoms, and refrains from molesting the good. Compare the conduct of Warren Hastings in exacting a heavy tribute, when his own treasury was empty, from Cheyt Singh, whose unfriendliness for the British power was a matter of notoriety. 399. The sense seems to be that there are persons who hold that priests and Brahmanas should never be punished or taxed. This is the eternal usage, and, therefore, this is morality. Others who approve of the conduct of Sankha towards his brother Likhita on the occasion of the latter's appropriating a few fruits belonging to the former, are of a different opinion. The latter class of persons Bhishma says, are as sincere as the former in their opinion. They cannot be blamed for holding that even priests and Brahmanas may be punished when offending. 400. Duty depending on all the four foundations, i.e., as laid down in the Vedas; as laid down in the Smritis; as sanctioned by ancient usages and customs; and as approved by the heart or one's own conscience. 401. i.e., yield with ease. 402. Grammatically, the last line may mean,--'The very robbers dread a king destitute of compassion.' 403. Their wives and children ought to be saved, and their habitations and wearing apparel and domestic utensils, etc., should not be destroyed. 404. i.e., 'he that has wealth and forces.' 405. The sense seems to be that a poor man can have only a little of all earthly things. That little, however, is like the remnant of a strong man's dinner. 406. It is always reproachful to accept gifts from persons of questionable character. 407. The king should similarly, by punishing the wicked, cherish the good. 408. The sense seems to be that sacrifice proceeds more from an internal desire than from a large sum of money lying in the treasury. If the desire exists, money comes gradually for accomplishing it. The force of the simile consists in the fact that ants (probably white ants) are seen to gather and multiply from no ostensible cause. 409. The meaning is that as regards good men, they become friends in no time. By taking only seven steps in a walk together, two such men become friends. 410. Virtue prolongs life, and sin and wickedness always shorten it. This is laid down almost everywhere in the Hindu scriptures. 411. i.e., if ex-casted for irreligious practices. 412. The correct reading is Jatakilwishat. 413. The sense, of course, is that such a man, when filled with fear, becomes unable to ward off his dangers and calamities. Prudence requires that one should fear as long as the cause of fear is not at hand. When, however, that cause has actually presented itself, one should put forth one's courage. 414. The hostility between Krishna and Sisupala was due to the first of these causes; that between the Kurus and the Pandavas to the second; that between Drona and Drupada to the third; that between the cat and the mouse to the fourth; and that between the bird and the king (in the present story) to the fifth. 415. The sense seems to be that the act which has led to the hostility should be calmly considered by the enemy before he gives way to anger. 416. If it is Time that does all acts, there can be no individual responsibility. 417. i.e., they are indifferent to other people's sorrow. 418. Honey-seekers direct their steps through hill and dale by marking intently the course of the flight of bees. Hence they meet with frequent falls. 419. Everything decays in course of time. Vide the characteristics of the different Yugas, ante. 420. i.e., do any of these or all as occasion may require. 421. The king should imitate the cuckoo by causing his own friends or subjects to be maintained by others; he should imitate the boar by tearing up his foes by their very roots; he should imitate the mountains of Meru by presenting such a front that nobody may transgress him he should imitate an empty chamber by keeping room enough for storing acquisitions he should imitate the actor by assuming different guises; and lastly, he should imitate devoted friend in attending to the interests of his loving subjects. 422. The crane sits patiently by the water side for hours together in expectation of fish. 423. i.e., if he passes safely through the danger. 424. The triple aggregate consists of Virtue, Wealth, and Pleasure. The disadvantages all arise from an injudicious pursuit of each. Virtue stands as an impediment in the way of Wealth; Wealth stands in the way of Virtue; and Pleasure stands in the way of both. The inseparable adjuncts of the three, in the case of the vulgar, are that Virtue is practised as a means of Wealth, Wealth is sought as a means of Pleasure; and Pleasure is sought for gratifying the senses. In the case of the truly wise, those adjuncts are purity of the soul as the end of virtue, performance of sacrifices as the end of Wealth; and upholding of the body as the end of Pleasure. 425. Literally, 'preservation of what has been got, and acquisition of what is desired.' 426. These depend on the king, i.e., if the king happens to be good, prosperity, etc., are seen. On the other hand, if the king becomes oppressive and sinful, prosperity disappears, and every kind of evil sets in. 427. In India, during the hot months, charitable persons set up shady thatches by the sides of roads for the distribution of cool water and raw sugar and oat soaked in water. Among any of the principal roads running through the country, one may, during the hot months, still see hundreds of such institutions affording real relief to thirsty travellers. 428. Such as Rakshasas and Pisachas and carnivorous birds and beasts. 429. Abandoning his Homa fire. 430. i.e., flowers already offered to the deities. 431. No one of the three regenerate orders should take dog's meat. If thou takest such meat, where would then the distinction be between persons of those orders and men like Chandalas? 432. Agastya was a Rishi. He could not do what was sinful. 433. The idea that man comes alone into the world and goes out of it alone. Only the wife is his true associate for she alone is a sharer of his merits, and without her no merit can be won. The Hindu idea of marriage is a complete union. From the day of marriage the two persons become one individual for the performance of all religious and other acts. 434. The sense seems to be that our strength, though little, should be employed by us in attending to the duties of hospitality in our own way. 435. Literally, 'thou art at home,' meaning I will not spare any trouble in making thee feel and enjoy all the comforts of home in this place. 436. Mahaprasthana is literally an unreturning departure. When a person leaves home for wandering through the world till death puts a stop to his wanderings, he is said to go on Mahaprasthana. 437. The theory is that all distresses arise originally from mental error which clouds the understanding. Vide Bhagavadgita. 438. Making gifts, etc. 439. Here amum (the accusative of adas) evidently means 'that' and not 'this.' I think the reference, therefore, is to heaven and not to this world. 440. These are Mleccha tribes of impure behaviour. 441. i.e., for my instructions. 442. So great was the repugnance felt for the slayer of a Brahmana that to even talk with him was regarded a sin. To instruct such a man in the truths of the Vedas and of morality was to desecrate religion itself. 443. The version of 5 is offered tentatively. That a person possessed of affluence should become charitable is not wonderful. An ascetic, again, is very unwilling to exercise his power. (Witness Agastya's unwillingness to create wealth for gratifying his spouse.) What is meant by these two persons not living at a distance from each other is that the same cause which makes an affluent person charitable operates to make an ascetic careful of the kind of wealth he has. 444. That which is asamikshitam is samagram karpanyam. 445. Nilakantha explains that vala here means patience (strength to bear) and ojas (energy) means restraints of the senses. 446. Both the vernacular translators have rendered the second line of verse 25 wrongly. They seem to think that a person by setting out for any of the sacred waters from a distance of a hundred yojanas becomes cleansed. If this meaning be accepted then no man who lives within a hundred yojanas of any of them has any chance of being cleansed. The sense, of course, is that such is the efficacy of these tirthas that a man becomes cleansed by approaching even to a spot within a hundred yojanas of their several sites. 447. These mantras form a part of the morning, noon and evening prayer of every Brahmana. Aghamarshana was a Vedic Rishi of great sanctity. 448. In the first line of 26 the correct reading is Kutah not Kritah as adopted by the Burdwan translators. 449. i.e., beasts and birds. The vernacular translators wrongly render it--'Behold the affection that is cherished by those that are good towards even the beasts and birds!' 450. The correct reading is Murtina (as in the Bombay text) and not Mrityuna. The Burdwan version adopts the incorrect reading. 451. The allusion is to the story of Rama having restored a dead Brahmana boy. During Rama's righteous reign there were no premature deaths in his kingdom. It happened, however, one day that a Brahmana father came to Rama's court and complained of the premature death of his son. Rama instantly began to enquire after the cause. Some sinful act in some corner of the kingdom, it was suspected, had caused the deed. Soon enough Rama discovered a Sudra of the name of Samvuka engaged in the heart of a deep forest in ascetic penances. The king instantly cut off the man's head inasmuch as a Sudra by birth had no right to do what that man was doing. As soon as righteousness was upheld, the deceased Brahmana boy revived. (Ramayana, Uttarakandam). 452. Literally, 'by giving up their own bodies'. 453. i.e., he is sure to come back to life. 454. The word sramana is used in Brahmanical literature to signify a certain order of ascetics or yatis that have renounced work for meditation. It is also frequently employed to mean a person of low life or profession. It should be noted, however, that in Buddhistic literature the word came to be exclusively used for Buddhist monks. 455. This is how Nilakantha seems to explain the line, Bhishma is anxious about the effect of his instructions. He says that those instructions would bear fruit if the gods will it; otherwise, his words would go for nothing, however carefully he might speak. 456. The commentator explains that including the first, altogether 12 questions are put by Yudhishthira. 457. This is an answer to the first question viz., the general aspect of ignorance. 458. The word Sreyas has a peculiar meaning. It implies, literally, the best of all things; hence, ordinarily, in such passages, it means beatitude or the highest happiness that one may acquire in heaven. It means also those acts of virtue by which that happiness may be acquired. It should never be understood as applicable to anything connected with earthly happiness, unless, of course, the context would imply it. 459. The sense is that such a man never sets his heart upon things of this world, and accordingly these, when acquired, can never satisfy him. His aspirations are so great and so high above anything this world can give him that the attainment of even the region of Brahma cannot, as the commentator explains, gratify him. At first sight this may look like want of contentment, but in reality, it is not so. The grandeur of his aspirations is sought to be enforced. Contentment applies only to ordinary acquisitions, including even blessedness in heaven. 460. i.e., such a man is sure of attaining to a blessed end. 461. Such as distinctions of caste, of dress, of food, etc., etc. 462. A reference to the region of Brahma, which is supposed to be located within every heart. One reaches that region through penances and self-denial. The sense, of course, is that his is that pure felicity of the heart who has succeeded in driving off all evil passions therefrom. 463. The word used here is Buddhasya (genitive of Buddha.) May not this verse be a reference to the Buddhistic idea of a Buddha? 464. i.e., both are equally efficacious. 465. In the Bengal texts, verse 9 is a triplet. In the second line the correct reading is nirvedat and not nirdesat. Avadya is fault. Vinivartate is understood at the end of the third line, as suggested by Nilakantha. Both the Bengali versions of 9 are incomplete, the Burdwan one being also incorrect. 466. The commentator explains that compassion, like the faults enumerated above, agitates the heart and should be checked for the sake of individual happiness or tranquillity of soul. 467. In India, from the remotest times, preceptors are excluded from charging their pupils any fees for the instruction they give. No doubt, a final fee, called Gurudakshina, is demandable, but that is demandable after the pupil has completed his studies. To sell knowledge for money is a great sin. To this day in all the indigenous schools of the country, instruction is imparted free of all charges. In addition to this, the pupils are fed by their preceptors. The latter, in their turn, are supported by the charity of the whole country. 468. Dakshina is the present or gift made in sacrifices. 469. Vahirvyedichakrita, etc., is the correct reading. 470. i.e., such a person may perform a grand sacrifice in which Soma is offered to the gods and drunk by the sacrificer and the priests. 471. The Burdwan translator, misled by the particle nah, supposes that this verse contains an injunction against the spoliation of a Sudra. The fact is, the nah here is equal to 'ours'. 472. Who has fasted for three whole days. 473. Aswastanavidhana is the rule of providing only for today without thinking of the morrow. 474. The sense, of course, is that if a Brahmana starves, that is due to the king having neglected his duty of providing for him. 475. I follow Nilakantha in rendering abrahmanam manyamanah. It may also mean 'regarding himself to be a fallen Brahmana (for the time being)'. 476. It should be noted that the word foeticide used in such texts frequently means all sins that are regarded as equivalent to foeticide. Hence, killing a Brahmana is foeticide, etc. 477. There is a material difference of reading in this verse. Following the Bengal texts, the above version is given. The Bombay text runs as follows: 'upon his body being burnt therewith, or by death, he becomes cleansed.' The Bombay text seems to be vicious. Drinking is regarded as one of the five heinous sins. The severer injunction contained in the Bengal texts seems therefore, to be the correct reading. 478. The true reading is nigacchati and not niyacchati. The Burdwan translator has misunderstood the word papam in this verse. 479. Nilakantha correctly explains the connection of Susamsitah. 480. Nilakantha explains that the question of Nakula excited the heart of Bhishma and caused a flow of blood through his wounds. Hence Bhishma compares himself to a hill of red-chalk. 481. Durvarani, Durvaradini, Durvachadini, are some of the readings of the first line. 482. Literally, family or clan; here origin. 483. The second line of 19 is unintelligible. 484. Taddhitwa is tat hi twa. Nilakantha thinks that twa here is twam. 485. In the Bengal texts, 41 is made a triplet, and 42 is made to consist of a single line; 42 is represented as Vaisampayana's speech. This is evidently an error; 41 a couplet. 42 also is so. Rajna etc., refer to Bhima. K.P. Singha avoids the error; the Burdwan translator, as usual, makes a mess of 41 by taking it to be a triplet. 486. There can be very little doubt that the second line has a distinct reference to the principal article of faith in Buddhism. Emancipation here is identified with Extinction or Annihilation. The word used is Nirvana. The advice given is abstention from attachments of every kind. These portions of the Santi are either interpolations, or were written after the spread of Buddhism. 487. The doctrine set forth in 48 is the doctrine of either Universal Necessity as expounded by Leibnitz, or that of Occasional Causes of the Cartesian school. In fact, all the theories about the government of the universe are strangely jumbled together here. 488. i.e., they that have wives and have procreated children. 489. Raktamivavikam and not Raktamivadhikam, is the correct reading. The Burdwan translator accepts the incorrect reading. 490. The true reading is Brahmavarjitah and not that word in the accusative. Both the Bengali versions have adhered to the incorrect reading of the Bengal texts. 491. i.e., it was not a piece torn off from a full piece, but both its dasas or ends were there. 492. To this day there are many Brahmanas in India who are asudra-pratigrahins, i.e., who accept no gift, however rich, from a Sudra. 493. Kimpurusha is half-man and half-horse. The body is supposed to be that of a horse, and the face that of a man. 494. Literally, 'for obtaining goods'. 495. At such entertainments, Hindus, to this day, sit on separate seats when eating. If anybody touches anybody else's seat, both become impure and cannot eat any longer. Before eating, however, when talking or hearing, the guests may occupy a common seat, i.e., a large mat or blanket or cloth, etc., spread out on the floor. 496. Agni or fire is a deity that is said to have Vayu (the wind-god) for his charioteer. The custom, to this day, with all travellers in India is to kindle a large fire when they have to pass the night in woods and forests or uninhabited places. Such fires always succeed in scaring off wild beasts. In fact, even tigers, raging with hunger, do not approach the place where a blazing fire is kept up. 497. Surabhi is the celestial cow sprung from the sage Daksha. 498. Whether the word is chirat or achirat is difficult to make out. 499. In Sanskrit the ablative has sometimes the sense of 'through'. Here, mitrat means both from and through. What is said is that wealth, honours, etc., may be acquired through friends, i.e., the latter may give wealth or be instrumental in its acquisition, etc. 500. It is very difficult to literally translate such verses. The word Dharma is sometimes used in the sense of Religion or the aggregate of duties. At other times it simply means a duty or the course of duties prescribed for a particular situation. Tapah is generally rendered penance. Here, however, it has a direct reference to sravana (hearing), manana (contemplation), and nididhyasana (abstraction of the soul from everything else for absolute concentration). The Grammar of the second half of the first line is Sati apretya etc., Sat being that which is real, hence, the Soul, or the Supreme Soul, of which every individual Soul is only a portion. 501. And not the Soul, as the commentator explains. With the death of the body joy and grief disappear. 502. The art by which the body could, as in Egypt, be preserved for thousands of years was not known to the Rishis. 503. The commentator explains the sense of this as follows: The cow belongs to him who drinks her milk. Those who derive no advantage from her have no need for showing her any affection. One should not covet what is above one's want. It has been said, that (to a thirsty or hungry or toil-worn man), a little quantity of vaccine milk is of more use than a hundred kine; a small measure of rice more useful than a hundred barns filled with grain; half a little bed is of more use than a large mansion. 504. I follow Nilakantha in rendering this verse. His interpretation is plausible. Mudatamah, according to him, are those who are in deep sleep. There are four stages of consciousness. These are (1) wakefulness, (2) dream, (3) dreamless or deep slumber, and (4) Turiya or absolute Samadhi (which the Yogin only can attain to). 505. The two extremes, of course, are dreamless slumber and Turiya or Samadhi. The two intermediate ones are wakefulness and sleep with dream. 506. Pride in consequences of having insulted or humiliated others; and success over others such as victories in battle and other concerns of the world. 507. The first half of the second line is read variously. The sense, however, in effect, remains unaltered. What is said here is that man who succeeds in attaining to a state of Brahma by true Samadhi or abstraction from the world, can never be touched by grief. 508. In all treatises on Yoga it is said that when the first stage is passed, the neophyte succeeds in looking at his own self. The meaning seems to be that he experiences a sort of double existence so that he succeeds in himself looking at his own self. 509. This is the same as 46. The Bombay edition does not repeat it. 510. The house referred to is the body. The single column on which it is supported is the backbone, and the nine doors are the eyes, the ears, the nostrils, etc. etc. 511. The sense is that women always regard their human lovers as dear without regarding the Supreme Being to be so, although He is always with them. 512. i.e., coursing on, without waiting for any one. 513. Literally, intelligent. 514. The true reading is Jnanena and not ajnanena. Then, in the last foot, the word is a-pihitah and not apihitah. The words with ava and api frequently drop the initial a. Hence a-pihitah means not covered. 515. The word used in the text is Devanam (of the gods). There can be no doubt however, that the word deva is here used for implying the senses. 516. i.e., wild beasts and lawless men. 517. Asatyajyam and Asatyadyam are both correct. The sense is the same. The first means 'having untruth for the libation (that it eats up).' The second means 'having untruth for the food (it devours)'. 518. Santi is tranquillity. The Santi-sacrifice is the endeavour to practise self-denial in everything; in other words, to restrain all sorts of propensities or inclinations. The Brahma-sacrifice is reflection on truths laid down in the Upanishads. The Word-sacrifice consists in the silent recitation (japa) of the Pranava or Om, the initial mantra. The Mind-sacrifice is contemplation of the Supreme Soul. The Work-sacrifice consists in baths, cleanliness, and waiting upon the preceptor. 519. Both readings are correct, viz., Kshetrayajna and Kshetrayajna. Kshetra is, of course, the body. If the latter reading be accepted, the meaning will be 'a sacrifice like that of a Kshatriya, i.e., battle.' Hence, all kinds of acts involving cruelty. 520. or, seek Brahma in thy understanding. The word Atman is often synonymous with Supreme Self. 521. The commentator explains that the object of Yudhishthira's question is this: in the preceding section or lesson it has been inculcated that one may seek the acquisition of the religion of moksha or emancipation even when he is young. Yudhishthira enquires whether wealth (so necessary for the performance of sacrifices) is needed for the acquisition of that religion. If wealth be necessary, the poor then would not be able to acquire that religion. Hence the enquiry about the way in which joy and sorrow come to the wealthy and to the poor. 522. The verses are said to be old. Nilakantha accordingly supposes that it was not Sampaka who recited them to Bhishma, but some one else. I follow the commentator; but the grammar of the concluding verse of this section must have to be twisted for supporting him. 523. Kakataliyam is, literally, 'after the manner of the crow and the palmyra fruit.' The story is that once when a crow perched upon a palmyra tree a fruit (which had been ripe) fell down. The fruit fell because of its ripeness. It would be a mistake to accept the sitting of the crow as the cause of the fall. The perching was only an accident. Yet men very frequently, in tracing causes, accept accidents for inducing causes. Such men are said to be deceived by 'the fallacy of the crow and the palmyra fruit.' 524. Exertion to be successful must depend on circumstances. The combination of circumstances is destiny. 525. It is difficult to resist the belief that many of the passages of the Santi are later additions. Suka was the son of Vyasa. To quote a saying of Suka (or, as he was called Sukadeva Goswamin), if Vyasa was the real writer of this passage, is rather suspicious. 526. i.e., arrive at such a point that nothing was left for him to desire. 527. i.e., with the view of doing thee good, I shall emancipate myself from all attachments and enjoy the blessedness of tranquillity. 528. Here the theory of desire seems to be reversed. Desire is mere wish after anything. When its gratification is sought, the form it assumes is that of determination or will. If, however, Kama be taken as the formulated desire after specific objects, then, perhaps, the Will may be regarded as its foundation, at least, in respect of the distress and difficulties that come in its train. 529. I think the Bombay reading of this verse is incorrect. Bhuttagramah (nom. sing.) should be Bhutagramam (accusative sing.). The Yah is Kamah. It is Desire that is exhorted to go away whithersoever it chooses. If the elements be thus exhorted, then it is death that the speaker desires. This would be inconsistent with the spirit of the passage. 530. The use of the plural Yushmashu might lead at first sight to take it as standing for the elements. It is plain, however, that it refers to all attributes that are founded on Rajas and Tamas. 531. Beholding all creatures in my own body and mind i.e., identifying myself with all creatures or never taking them as distinct and separated from me: in other words, professing and practising the principle of universal love. 532. The two lines are antithetical. What is said here is that though there is misery in property, there is no real happiness in affluence. Hence Nilakantha is right in supposing that the last word of the first line is not dhane but adhane the Sandhi being Arsha. 533. Nilakantha explains that by Saranga here is meant the bee. The anweshanam following it is 'going behind.' The whole compound means 'imitation of the bee in the forest.' 534. The allusion is to the story of Pingala, in Section 74 ante. 535. The story, evidently a very ancient one, is given in full in the Bhagavat. Once on a time, a maiden, residing in her father's house, wished to feed secretly a number of Brahmanas. While removing the grain from the barn, her anklets, made of shells, began to jingle. Fearing discovery through that noise, she broke all her anklets except one for each hand. 536. Animittatah is explained by Nilakantha as one that has no cause, i.e., Brahma. The commentator would take this speech as a theistic one. I refuse to reject the plain and obvious meaning of the word. All phases of speculative opinion are discussed in the Santi. It is very possible that a religious indifferentism is preached here. 537. The sense of the passage is that as everything depends upon its own nature, it cannot, by its action, either gladden or grieve me. If a son be born to me I am not delighted. If he dies, I am not grieved. His birth and death depend upon his own nature as a mortal. I have no power to alter that nature or affect it in any way. 538. The word Ajagara implies 'after the manner of a big snake that cannot move.' it is believed that such snakes, without moving, lie in the same place in expectation of prey, eating when anything comes near, famishing when there is nothing. 539. The meaning is that even copious drafts do not slake thirst permanently, for after being slaked, it is sure to return. 540. In the Bengal texts, 44 is made a triplet. The correct reading, however, is to take 44 as a couplet and 45 as a triplet. Nilakantha points out that Icchantaste, etc., is grammatically connected with 45. 541. The auspicious constellations are such as Pushya and others; the inauspicious are Mula Aslesha, Magha, etc; yajnaprasava may also mean the fruits of sacrifices. 542. Anwikshikim may also mean 'microscopic'. 543. The word dattam, generally rendered 'gifts' or 'charity,' means and includes protection of suppliants, abstention from injury as regards all creatures, and actual gifts made outside the sacrificial altar. Similarly, the maintenance of the sacred fire, penances, purity of conduct, the study of the Vedas, hospitality to guests, and offer of food to the Viswedevas, are all included in the word Ishta which is ordinarily rendered 'sacrifice.' 544. i.e., even if he seeks to avoid it. 545. i.e., becomes his inseparable associate. 546. What is meant is that if once the consequences of the acts of a past life are exhausted, the creature (with respect to whom such exhaustion takes place), is freed from all vicissitudes of life. Lest, however, such creatures become emancipated, the orthodox view is that a balance is always left of both merit and demerit, so that a new birth must take place and the consequences of what is thus left as a balance must begin to be enjoyed or suffered. This is not referred to here, but this is the view of all orthodox Hindus. 547. The first word of this verse is diversely read. The reading I adopt is samunnam meaning drenched in water. If it be samjuktam it would mean united, with filth, of course. Another reading is samswinnam, meaning 'drenched with sweat.' Nilakantha explains upavasah here as equivalent to the renunciation of all earthly possessions. Ordinarily it means 'fasts.' 548. This verse occurs in the Santi Parva. It is difficult to understand in what sense it is said that the track of the virtuous cannot be marked. Perhaps, it is intended that such men do not leave any history or record behind them, they having abstained from all kinds of action good or bad. 549. Manasa means 'appertaining to the mind,' or rather, the Will. Mahat literally means great. 550. Veda is here used in the sense of Knowledge and Power. 551. Sarvabhutatmakrit is explained by Nilakantha thus. He who is Sarvabhutatman is again bhutakrit. On the authority of the Srutis the commentator adds,--ye ete pancha akasadayodhatavo-dharana-karmanah sa eva Brahma. 552. The word Devah here is evidently used in the sense of luminous or shining ones and not in that of gods or deities. 553. The Rishis supposed that the pouring of water created the air instead only of displaying it. 554. All created things are called Bhutas, but the five principal elements, viz., fire, air, earth, water, and space, are especially called Bhutas or Mahabhutas. 555. This is certainly curious as showing that the ancient Hindus knew how to treat diseased plants and restore them to vigour. 556. K.P. Singha wrongly renders this verse. The Burdwan translator is right. 557. Both the Bengal and the Bombay texts read bhutani. The correct reading, however, appears to be bhutanam. 558. The word for duct is Srotas. It may also be rendered 'channel.' Very like the principal artery or aorta. 559. Notwithstanding much that is crude anatomy and crude physiology in these sections, it is evident, however, that certain glimpses of truth were perceived by the Rishis of ancient times. Verse 15 shows that the great discovery of Harvey in modern times was known in ancient India. 560. In works on yoga it is laid down that the main duct should be brought under the control of the will. The soul may then, by an act of volition, be withdrawn from the whole physical system into the convolutions of the brain in the head. The brain, in the language of yogins, is a lot us of a thousand leaves. If the soul be withdrawn into it, the living creature will then be liberated from the necessity of food and sleep, etc., and will live on from age to age, absorbed in contemplation of divinity and in perfect beatitude. 561. It is often said that in an advanced stage of yoga, one is enabled to behold one's Soul, or, a sort of double existence is realised in consequence of which the Soul becomes an object of internal survey to the Soul itself. Very probably, writers on yoga employ this language in a figurative sense. 562. The commentator explains that the words expressive of hue or colour really mean attributes. What is intended to be said is that the Brahmanas had the attribute of Goodness (Sattwa); the second order had the attribute of Passion (Rajas); the third got a mixture of the two, i.e., both goodness and passion (Sattwa and Rajas); while the lowest order got the remaining attribute, viz., Darkness (Tamas). 563. The distinction here laid down seems to be this: the eternal creation is due to the yoga or mental action of the Primeval Deity. That creation which we behold is the result of the penances of those sages who were first created. Perhaps, what is intended to be said is that the principle of life, of life proceeding from life, and primal matter with space, etc., are all due to the fiat of God; while all visible and tangible objects, resulting from the action of those principles and from primal matter and space, are attributable to the ancient sages. 564. The word Ghrina may also mean aversion. Of course, here it would mean, if used in that sense, aversion for all unrighteous acts. 565. The first half of the first line of 6 is differently read in the Bombay edition. Both readings are noticed by Nilakantha. I have adhered to the Bengal reading, though the Bombay reading is clearer in sense. Visati is a transitive verb having Pratishtha or some such noun for its object. The literal meaning is he who acquires fame, etc. 566. Here the speaker describes the character of Karma-sannyasa (renunciation of acts). Samarambha generally means all kinds of acts. Here, however, only sacrifices and other scriptural rites are intended. I follow Nilakantha in rendering the second line, although the plain meaning would seem to be "who poureth everything in gift." 567. The gross world is perceivable by the ordinary senses. Behind the gross world is a subtile one which the subtile senses i.e., the senses when sharpened by yoga, can perceive. With death, the gross body alone is dissolved, the subtile body or form, called the Linga-sarira, and made up of what is called the Tanmatras of the primal elements, remains. Even that retains all the characteristics of the world in an incipient form. The Linga-sarira also must be destroyed before absorption into Brahma can take place. 568. The felicity that is obtained in heaven is not everlasting, being limited in point of duration by the degree or measure of merit that is achieved here. 569. The Pauranic theory of both the solar and the lunar eclipse is that the Sun and the Moon are sought to be devoured by the Daitya, Rahu. 570. The sense seems to be that Vedas declare those fruits in order that men may strive for them when they lead to happiness. 571. Nearly the whole of this section is prose. 572. It is difficult to understand in what senses the word Dharma is used in the three successive questions here. 573. In the first line the correct reading is Brahmana and not Brahmarshi. The answer attributed to Bhrigu settles this. 574. A pupil should never solicit his preceptor for instruction. He should attend only when the preceptor calls him. To this day, the rule is rigidly observed in all schools throughout India. It should be added to the credit of those engaged in teaching that they very seldom neglect their pupils. The story is authentic of the grandfather of the great Baneswar Vidyalankar of Nuddea, himself as great a professor as Baneswar, of continuing to teach his pupils in the outer apartments even after receiving intelligence of his son's death within the inner apartments of the family dwelling. The fact is, he was utterly absorbed in his work, that when his good lady, moved by his apparent heartlessness, came out to tax him he answered her, in thorough absence of mind, saying, 'Well, do not be disturbed. If I do not weep for my son, I will do so for that grandchild in your arms.' The pupils at last recalled him to the realities of the hour. 575. i.e., by picking up fallen grains from the field after the crop has been cut away and removed by the owner. 576. Upaskara means renunciation. 577. It is generally said that by procreating offspring, one gratifies the Pitris or pays off the debt one owes to one's deceased ancestors. Here Bhrigu says that by that act one gratifies the Creator. The idea is the same that forms the root of the command laid on the Jews,--Go and multiply. 578. The end of these attributes is Moksha or Emancipation. 579. Sishta is explained by Nilakantha as one who has been properly instructed by wise Preceptors. 580. Niyama is explained by the commentator as a rite; upayoga as a vow about food; charyya as an act like visiting sacred waters; vihita is vidhana. 581. The Hindus had no poor laws. The injunctions of their scriptures have always sufficed to maintain the poor, particularly their religious mendicants. The mendicants themselves are restrained from disturbing the householders often. None again save the well-to-do were to be visited by the mendicants, so that men of scanty means might not be compelled to support the recluses. 582. The words used by Bharadwaja in the question are capable of being construed as an enquiry after the next world. Bhrigu also, in his answer, uses the word Paro lokah. The reference to Himavat, therefore, is explained by the commentator as metaphorical. The whole answer of Bhrigu, however, leaves little room for doubt that the sage speaks of a region on earth and not in the invisible world after death. 583. Nilakantha would read amritya for mritya. It is a forced correction for keeping up the metaphorical sense. 584. All knowledge there is certain. 585. i.e., to practise yoga. The Bengal reading is dharanam. The commentator goes for explaining all the verses as metaphorical. Considerable ingenuity is displayed by him, and he even cites the Srutis in support. 586. This at least is a verse that evidently refers to the other or the next world, and, therefore, lends colour to the supposition that throughout the whole passage, it is the next world and no fictitious region north of the Himalayas that is described. Some western scholars think that a verbal translation is all that is necessary. Such passages, however, are incapable of being so rendered. The translator must make his choice of, either taking the verses in a plain or a metaphorical sense. If he inclines towards the latter, he cannot possibly give a verbal version. The genius of the two tongues are quite different. 587. Pushkara in Rajputanah is supposed to be the spot where Brahman underwent his penances. 588. The Burdwan translator makes a mess of this verse 21 runs into 22 as explained by the commentator. K.P. Singha avoids the blunder, although in rendering the last line of 22 he becomes rather inaccurate. 589. The five limbs which should be washed before eating are the two feet, the two hands, and the face. 590. This may be a general direction for washing one's hand after eating; or, it may refer to the final Gandusha, i.e., the act of taking a little water in the right hand, raising it to the lips, and throwing it down, repeating a short formula. 591. The Burdwan translator has misunderstood this verse completely. 592. It is difficult to understand what this verse means. Nilakantha proposes two different kinds of interpretation. What then is Sankusuka or Sanku cuka? The above version is offered tentatively. The commentator imagines that the true sense of the verse is that it declares such men to be unable to attain to Mahadayu which is Brahma and not long life. 593. Prishtamangsa is explained by the commentator as 'the meat forming the remnant of a Sraddha offering.' I do not see the necessity of discarding the obvious meaning. 594. in the sense of being moved or used. The commentator adds that the sacred thread also should be wound round the thumb, as the Grihyasutras declare. 595. In every instance, the person who receives should say--'All-sufficient,' 'Gratify to the fill', and 'Has fallen copiously' or words to that effect. Krisara or Kricara is food made of rice and pease, or rice and sesame; probably what is now called Khichree. 596. The polite form of address is Bhavan. It is in the third person singular. The second person is avoided, being too direct. 597. It is not plain in what way the sinful acts come to the sinner. The Hindu idea, of course, is that the consequences of those deeds visit the doer without fail. This verse, however, seems to say that the recollection of those sins forces itself upon the sinner and makes him miserable in spite of himself. 598. The Hindu moralist, in this verse, declares the same high morality that Christ himself preached. Merit or sin, according to him, does not depend on the overt act alone. Both depend on the mind. Hence the injunction against even mentally harming others. 599. The sense seems to be that if one succeeds in ascertaining the ordinances about virtue or piety, but if the mind be sinful, no associate can be of any help. The mind alone is the cause of virtue and piety. 600. Adhyatma is anything that depends on the mind. Here it is, as explained by the commentator, used for yoga-dharma as depending upon or as an attribute of the mind. Generally speaking, all speculations on the character of the mind and its relations with external objects are included in the word Adhyatma. 601. After Bhrigu's discourse to Bharadwaja this question may seem to be a repetition. The commentator explains that it arises from the declaration of Bhishma that Righteousness is a property of the mind, and is, besides, the root of everything. (V 31, sec. 193, ante). Hence the enquiry about Adhyatma as also about the origin of all things. 602. The word rendering 'perceptions' is Vijnanani. 'Cognitions' would perhaps, be better. 603. Generally, in Hindu philosophy, particularly of the Vedanta school, a distinction is conceived between the mind, the understanding, and the soul. The mind is the seat or source of all feelings and emotions as also all our perceptions, or those which are called cognitions in the Kantian school, including Comparison which (in the Kantian school) is called the Vernuft or Reason. This last is called the Understanding or buddhi. The soul is regarded as something distinct from both the body and the mind. It is the Being to whom the body and the mind belong. It is represented as inactive, and as the all-seeing witness within the physical frame. It is a portion of the Supreme Soul. 604. Goodness includes all the higher moral qualities of man. Passion means love, affection, and other emotions that appertain to worldly objects. Darkness means anger, lust, and such other mischievous propensities. 605. I follow Nilakantha in his grammatical exposition of this verse. The meaning, however, is scarcely clear. The identity of the Understanding or intelligence with the senses and the mind may be allowed so far as the action of the three qualities in leading all of them to worldly attachments is concerned. But what is meant by the identity of the Understanding with all the objects it comprehends? Does Bhishma preach Idealism here? If nothing exists except as it exists in the Understanding, then, of course, with the extinction of the Understanding, all things would come to an end. 606. Brown and other followers of Reid, whether they understood Reid or not, regarded all the perceptions as only particular modifications of the mind. They denied the objective existence of the world. 607. The commentator explains this verse thus, although as regards the second line he stretches it a little. If Nilakantha be right, K.P. Singha must be wrong. Generally, however, it is the known incapacity of the ocean to transgress its continents that supplies poets with illustrations. Here, however, possibly, the rarity of the phenomenon, viz., the ocean's transgressing its continents, is used to illustrate the rare fact of the intelligence, succeeding by yoga power, in transcending the attributes of Rajas, Tamas and Sattwa. 608. on the other hand, directing one's thoughts boldly to it, one should ascertain its cause and dispel that cause, which, as stated here, is Passion. 609. The first two words of the second line are those of verse 5. See I, Manu. 610. Kathanchit is explained by Nilakantha as 'due to great ill-luck.' 611. I do not follow Nilakantha in rendering this verse. 612. The soul is said to be only a witness or spectator and not an actor. The Rishis understood by the soul the being to whom the mind, the senses, etc., all belong. Could the idea of the inactive and unsinning Soul have arisen from observation of the moral principle of Conscience which discriminates between right and wrong, and acts, therefore, as an impartial judge, or watches everything like an uninterested spectator? European moralists generally attribute two other functions to the Conscience, viz., impelling us to do the right and avoid the wrong, and approving when right is done and wrong avoided. But these functions may easily be attributed to some other principle. At any rate, when the question is one of nomenclature only, the last two functions may be taken away and the word Soul applied to indicate the Conscience as the faculty of discrimination only. 613. The qualities here referred to are those of Sattwa (goodness), Rajas (passion), and Tamas (darkness). What is meant by this verse is that such a person transcends the qualities instead of the qualities transcending him and his acts. 614. Nilakantha takes the third line as elliptical and is for supplying te labhante. 615. I follow the commentator in his exposition of this verse. Anavisandhipurvakam is explained as nishkamam. Ubhayam is prachinamaihikam cha karmam. Apriyam is equivalent to vadham. The substance of priyam, etc., is thus given: Moksham prati tu karmanah karanatwam duranirastam. 616. Aturam is explained as pierced by lust, wrath, etc. Asuyate is equivalent to dhikkaroti. Janah is explained by the commentator as parikshakah but it would be better to take it as standing for people generally. Tasya is an instance of the genitive for the accusative. Tat refers to nindyam karma, sarvatah means sarvashu yonishu. Janayati Janena dadati. The object of the verse is to show that sinful acts produce fear both here and hereafter. 617. Loka is in the locative case, the final vowel indicating to the locative having been dropped for sandhi. Niravishan is an adverb, equivalent to samyak-abhinivesam kurvan. Tattadeva means "those and those" i.e., possessions, such as putradaradikam. Kusalan is sarasaravivekanipunan. Ubhayam is explained as karma-mukhin and sadyomuktim. Bhisma here points out the superiority of the latter kind of Emancipation over the former; hence Vedic acts or rites must yield to that yoga which drills the mind and the understanding and enables them to transcend all earthly influences. 618. The soul-state is the state of purity. One falls away from it in consequence of worldly attachments. One may recover it by yoga which aids one in liberating oneself from those attachments. 619. The three words used here are vichara, viveka, and vitarka. They are technical terms implying different stages of progress in yoga. The commentator explains them at length. 620. Everything that man has is the product of either exertion or destiny; of exertion, that is, as put forth in acts, and destiny as dependent on the acts of a past life or the will of the gods or pure chance. Yoga felicity is unattainable through either of these two means. 621. Sankhya is understood by the commentator as implying Vedanta-vichara. 622. This verse is a triplet. The commentator explains that Vedanta in the second line means Sankhya. I think, this is said because of the agreement between the Vedanta and the Sankhya in this respect notwithstanding their difference in other respects. The object of the verse is to say that according to the Sankhya, there is no necessity for silent recitation of mantras. Mental meditation, without the utterance of particular words, may lead to Brahma. 623. Both declare, as the commentator explains, that as long as one does not succeed in beholding one's Soul, one may silently recite the Pranava or the original word Om. When, however, one succeeds in beholding one's Soul, then may one give up such recitation. 624. There are two paths which one in this world may follow. One is called Pravritti dharma and the other Nrivritti dharma. The first is a course of actions; the second of abstention from actions. The attributes indicated in 10 and 11 belong to the first course or path. They are, therefore, called Pravartaka yajna or Sacrifice having its origin in Pravritti or action. 625. i.e., he should first cleanse his heart by observing the virtues above enumerated. 626. Samadhi is that meditation in which the senses having been all withdrawn into the mind, the mind, as explained previously, is made to dwell on Brahma alone. 627. The end declared by Bhishma in the previous section is the success of yoga, or freedom from decrepitude and death, or death at will, or absorption into Brahma, or independent existence in a beatific condition. 628. It should be noted that 'hell,' as here used, means the opposite of Emancipation. Reciter may attain to the joys of heaven, but compared to Emancipation, they are hell, there being the obligation of rebirth attached to them. 629. Even this is a kind of hell, for there is re-birth attached to it. 630. Aiswvarya or the attributes of godhead are certain extraordinary powers attained by yogins and Reciters. They are the power to become minute or huge in shape, or go whither soever one will, etc. These are likened to hell, because of the obligation of re-birth that attaches to them. Nothing less than Emancipation or the absorption into the Supreme Soul is the end that should be striven for. 631. In the Bengal texts there is a vicious line beginning with Prajna, etc. The Bombay text omits it, making both 10 and 11 couplets, instead of taking 11 as a triplet. 632. Na samyuktah is explained by the commentator as aviraktopi hathena tyaktabhogah. 633. For there no forms exist to become the objects of such functions. All is pure knowledge there, independent of those ordinary operations that help created beings to acquire knowledge. 634. The six Angas are Siksha, Kalpa, Vyakarana, Nirukta, Chhandas, Jyotish. 635. i.e., an insight not obtained in the ordinary way but by intuition. 636. K.P. Singha mistranslates the word sadhaye. It means 'I go', and not 'I will strive etc.' The Burdwan translator is correct. 637. Work and Abstention from work are the two courses of duty prescribed or followed. 638. It seems that Vikrita had given away a cow. He had then made a gift to Virupa of the merit he had won by that righteous act. 639. Picking solitary grains from the crevices in the fields after the crops have been gathered and taken away. 640. He gave me the merit he won by giving away one cow. I wish to give him in return the merit I have won by giving away two cows. 641. Verses 107 and 108 are rather obscure. What the king says in 107 seems to be that you two have referred your dispute to me who am a king. I cannot shirk my duty, but am bound to judge fairly between you. I should see that kingly duties should not, so far as I am concerned, become futile. In 108 he says, being a king I should discharge the duties of a king, i.e., I should judge disputes, and give, if need be, but never take. Unfortunately, the situation is such that I am obliged to act as a Brahmana by taking what this particular Brahmana is desirous of offering. 642. This verse also seems to be very obscure. The king's natural inclination, it seems, prompts him to oblige the Brahmana by accepting his gift. The ordinances about kingly duties restrain him. Hence his condemnation of those duties. In the second line, he seems to say that he is morally bound to accept the gift, and intends to make a gift of his own merits in return. The result of this act, he thinks, will be to make both courses of duty (viz., the Kshatriya, and the Brahmana's) produce the same kind of rewards in the next world. 643. This is not Emancipation, but merely terminable felicity. 644. Attains to Emancipation or Absorption into the essence of Brahma. 645. These are Direct knowledge (through the senses), Revelation, Inference, and Intuition. 646. The first six are Hunger, Thirst, Grief, Delusion, Disease, and Death. The other sixteen are the five breaths, the ten senses, and the mind. 647. I think, K.P. Singha misunderstands this verse. Three different ends are spoken of. One is absorption into Brahma; the other's enjoyment of ordinary felicity, which, of course, is terminable, and the last is the enjoyment of that felicity which is due to a freedom from desire and attachments; 126 speaks of this last kind of felicity. 648. In the second line saraddham is not an indeclinable; or, if it be taken as such, the sense may still remain unaltered. What the monarch does is to call upon the Brahmana to share with the monarch the rewards that the monarch had won. 649. The sense seems to be that yogins attain to Brahma even here; whereas Reciters attain to him after death. 650. The fact is, I do not know anything of Him, but still I profess to worship him. This is false behaviour. How shall I be rescued from such falsehood? This is what Vrihaspati says. 651. The Chhandas are the rules of Prosody as applicable to the Vedic hymns. Jyotish is astronomy. It forms an Anga of the Vedas. Nirukta furnishes rules for interpreting obscure passages of the Vedas, and also gives the meanings of technical or obscure words used therein. Kalpa is the description of religious rites. Siksha is the science of pronunciation as applied to Vedic hymns and mantras. 652. They who believe that happiness is not eternal and that, therefore, they should not pursue it, withdraw themselves from pious acts which lead to that happiness. They seek Knowledge as the best means for avoiding all that is transitory and changeful. They seek moksha or complete Emancipation which has been described in the previous sections. 653. The meaning of 'hell' as applied in such passages has been explained before. 654. This is a highly aphoristic line. I give the sense by expanding the words. By 'acts' here is meant 'sacrifices and other religious observances.' The intention of Vrihaspati is to enforce the propriety of acts, for without acts, the ends of life cannot, he maintains, be secured. 655. The sense is that one should devote oneself to acts as a sort of preparation. Afterwards one should abandon them for obtaining the higher end. Acts, therefore, have their use, and help one, though mediately, in the acquisition of Brahma. 656. The mind and acts have created all things. This has been explained in the last verse of section 190 ante. Both are good paths, for by both, good end may be attained, viz., the highest, by drilling the mind, as also (mediately) by acts (as explained in verse 14 above). The fruits of actions must be mentally abandoned if the highest end is to be attained; i.e., acts may be gone through, but their fruits should never be coveted. 657. Nilakantha explains the grammar of the first line differently. His view is yatha chakshurupah praneta nayako, etc. A better construction would be yatha chaksha pranetah (bhavati) etc. 658. This verse may be said to furnish the key of the doctrine of karma or acts and why acts are to be avoided by persons desirous of Moksha or Emancipation. Acts have three attributes: for some are Sattwika (good), as sacrifices undertaken for heaven, etc., some are Rajasika (of the quality of Passion), as penances and rites accomplished from desire of superiority and victory; and some are Tamasika (of the quality of Darkness), as those undertaken for injuring others, notably the Atharvan rites of Marana, Uchatana, etc.: this being the case, the Mantras, without acts, cannot be accomplished, are necessarily subject to the same three attributes. The same is the case with rituals prescribed. It follows, therefore, that the mind is the chief cause of the kind of fruits won, i.e., it is the motive that determines the fruits, viz., of what kind it is to be. The enjoyer of the fruit, of course, is the embodied creature. 659. There can be no doubt that Nilakantha explains this verse correctly. It is really a cruce. The words Naro na samsthanagatah prabhuh syat must be taken as unconnected and independent. Na samsthana gatah is before death. Prabhuh is adhikari (jnanphale being understood). K.P. Singha gives the sense correctly, but the Burdwan translator makes nonsense of the words. 660. The subject of this verse as explained by the commentator, is to inculcate the truth that the result of all acts accomplished by the body is heaven where one in a physical state (however subtile) enjoys those fruits. If Emancipation is to be sought, it must be attained through the mind. 661. The sense depends upon the word acts. If acts are accomplished by the mind, their fruits must be enjoyed by the person in a state in which he will have a mind. Emancipation cannot be achieved by either recitation (japa) or Dhyana (meditation), for both these are acts. Perfect liberation from acts is necessary for that great end. 662. viz., Taste, etc. 663. Existent, line atom; non-existent, line space; existent-nonexistent, line Maya or illusion. 664. Aswabhavam is explained by the commentator as Pramatri-twadi vihinam. 665. i.e., one sees one's own soul. 666. i.e., which, though one, divides itself into a thousand form like the image of the moon in a quantity of agitated water. 667. The analogy consists in this: good and evil fruits, though incompatible, dwell together; similarly, knowledge, though not material, resides in the material body. Of course, knowledge is used here in the sense of the mind or the understanding. 668. It is difficult to understand why the idea of lamps set on trees is introduced here. 669. The analogy is thus explained. Fire, when fed, bursts into flames. When not fed, it dies out, but is not destroyed, for with new fuel the flames may be brought back. The current of the wind ceases, but does not suffer extinction; for if it did, there would be no current again. The same is the case with the rays of the Sun. They die in the night, to reappear in the morning. The rivers are dried up in summer and refilled during the rains. The body, once dissolved, appears in another form. It will be seen that the weakness of the reasoning is due only to incorrect notions about the objects referred to. 670. Exists in its own nature, i.e., unaffected by attributes and qualities and accidents. 671. Some of the Bengal texts read sumahan and subuddhih in the second line. Of course, this is incorrect. The true reading is samanah and sabuddhih, meaning 'with mind and with understanding.' In the Bombay edition occurs a misprint, viz., sumanah for samanah. Nilakantha cites the correct readings. 672. The Burdwan translator misunderstands the word Linga as used in both 14 and 15. K.P. Singha also wrongly renders that word as it occurs in 15. The commentator rightly explains that Linga has no reference to Linga-sarira or the invisible body composed of the tanmatra of the primal elements, but simply means the gross body. In 14, he says, Lingat sthuladehat, Lingam tadeva dehantaram. In 15, anena Lingena Savibhutena. Adristhah means alakshitah. A little care would have removed such blunders. 673. The commentator cites the Gita which furnishes a parallel passage, viz., Indriyani paranyahurindriyebhyah param manah, etc. 674. This verse seems to show that the Rishis had knowledge of spectacles, and probably also, of microscopes. The instrument that shewed minute objects must have been well known, otherwise some mention would have been made of it by name. The commentator calls it upanetra. 675. By death on sleep. 676. Yugapat means simultaneous; atulyakalam means differing in point of time in respect of occurrence; kritsnam qualifies indriyartham; Vidwan means Sakshi; and ekah, independent and distinct. What is intended to be said here is that when the soul, in a dream, musters together the occurrences and objects of different times and places, when, in fact, congruity in respect of both time and place does not apply to it, it must be regarded to have an existence that is distinct and independent of the senses and the body. 677. The object of this is to show that the Soul has only knowledge of the pleasures and pains arising in consequence of Sattwa and Rajas and Tamas and in connection with the three states of the understanding due to the same three attributes. The Soul, however, though knowing them, does not enjoy or suffer them. He is only the silent and inactive Witness of everything. 678. The object of the simile is to show that as wind is a separate entity although existing with the fire in a piece of wood, so the Soul, though existing with the senses is distinct from them. 679. The Bengal texts read indriyanam which I adopt. The Bombay edition reads indriyendriyam, meaning the sense of the senses, in the same way as the Srutis declare that is the Prana of Prana, the eye of the eye, the ear of the ear, etc., Sravanena darsanam tatha kritam is 'apprehended by the ear,' i.e., as rendered above, 'apprehended through the aid of the Srutis.' 680. The commentator uses the illustration of a tree. Before birth the tree was not; and after destruction, it is not; only in the interim, it is. Its formlessness or nothingness is manifest from these two states, for it has been said that which did not exist in the past and will not exist in the future cannot be regarded as existing in the present. Tadgatah is explained by the commentator as udayastamanagatah or taddarsinah. 681. Both the vernacular translators render the second line incorrectly. The first line is elliptical, and would be complete by supplying asannam pasyanti. The paraphrase of the second line is Pratyayannam Jneyam Jnanabhisamhitam(prati)ninisante. Jneyam is explained by the commentator as prapancham. Jnanabhisamhitam means that which is known by the name of Knowledge, i.e., Brahma, which has many similar names some of which the commentator quotes such as Satyam (truth), Jananam (knowledge), Anantam (infinite), Vijnanam (true knowledge), Anandam (joy or happiness). 682. Tamas is another name for Rahu. The first line, therefore, refers to the manner in which an eclipse occurs. There is no absolute necessity, however, for taking it as an allusion to the eclipse. The meaning may be more general. Every day, during the lighted fortnight, the moon gains in appearance, as, indeed, every day, during the dark fortnight, it loses in appearance. It may, therefore, be said that darkness approaches it or leaves it for eating it away or discovering it more and more. The actual process of covering and discovering cannot be noticed. This circumstance may be taken as furnishing the simile. In verse 21, similarly, tamas is capable of a wider meaning. In 22, the word Rahu is used. It should be explained, however, that Rahu is no imaginary monster as the Puranas describe but the descending node of the moon, i.e., a portion of space in and about the lunar orbit. 683. This is a very difficult verse and the distinction involved in it are difficult to catch. Of course, I follow the commentator in rendering it. What is said here is that in a dream, Vyakta (manifest body) lies inactive, while the Chetanam (the subtile form) walks forth. In the state called Sushupti (deep slumber which is like death) the indriyasamyuktam (the subtile form) is abandoned, and Jnanam (the Understanding), detached from the former, remains. After this manner, abhava (non-existence, i.e., Emancipation) results from destruction of bhavah or existence as subject to its known conditions of dependence on time, manner of apprehension, etc., for Emancipation is absorption into the Supreme Soul which is independent of all the said conditions. The commentator explains that these observations become necessary to show that Emancipation is possible. In the previous section the speaker drew repeated illustrations for showing that the soul, to be manifest, depended on the body. The hearer is, therefore, cautioned against the impression that the soul's dependence on the body is of such an indissoluble kind that it is incapable of detachment from the body, which of course, is necessary for Emancipation or absorption into the Supreme Soul. 684. Caswasasya is an instance of Bhavapradhananirdesa, i.e., of a reference to the principal attribute connected by it. 685. Indriaih rupyante or nirupyante, hence Indriyarupani. 686. The objects to be abandoned are those which the senses apprehend and those which belong to primordial matter. Those last, as distinguished from the former, are, of course, all the linga or subtile forms or existents which are made up of the tanmatras of the grosser elements. 687. Or, regains his real nature. 688. I adopt the Bombay reading aptavan instead of the Bengal reading atmavit. Pravrittam Dharmam, as explained previously, is that Dharma or practice in which there is pravritti and not nivritti or abstention. 689. The sense is this: by abstaining from the objects of the senses one may conquer one's desire for them. But one does not succeed by that method alone in totally freeing oneself from the very principle of desire. It is not till one succeeds in beholding one's soul that one's principle of desire itself becomes suppressed. 690. The separate existence of an objective world is denied in the first clause here. All objects of the senses are said here to have only a subjective existence; hence the possibility of their being withdrawn into the mind. The latest definition of matter, in European philosophy, is that it is a permanent possibility of sensations. 691. Te is explained by the commentator as Brahmabhigatah. K.P. Singha wrongly renders the last foot of the second line. The Burdwan version is correct. 692. Te in the first line is equal to tava. 693. I follow the commentator in so far as he is intelligible. It is evident that the words Jnanam and Jneyam are used in the original not consistently throughout. 694. The meaning seems to be this: ordinary men regard all external objects as possessing an independent existence, and their attributes also as things different from the substances which own them. The first step to attain to is the conviction that attributes and substances are the same, or that the attributes are the substances. This accords with the European Idealism. The next stage, of course, is to annihilate the attributes themselves by contemplation. The result of this is the attainment of Brahma. 695. Antaratmanudarsini is explained by the commentator as "that which has the Antaratman for its anudarsin or witness." The Burdwan translator is incorrect in rendering the second line. 696. The first 'knowledge' refers to the perception of the true connection between the Soul and the not-Soul. 'Fruits' mean the physical forms that are gained in new births. The destruction of the understanding takes place when the senses and the mind are withdrawn into it all of them, united together, are directed towards the Soul. Jneyapratishthitam Jnanam means, of course, knowledge of Brahma. 697. The commentator explains that sorrow arises from the relation of the knower and the known. All things that depend upon that relation are transitory. They can form no part of what is eternal and what transcends that relation. 698. I take the obvious meaning, instead of the learned explanation offered by Nilakantha. 699. The very Yogins, if led away by the desire of acquiring extraordinary powers and the beatitude of the highest heaven do not behold the Supreme. 700. Gunam, literally, attributes; hence objects possessed of attributes. 701. That which is called the external world has no objective existence. It is purely subjective. Hence, it is the mind that sees and hears and touches the mind itself. 702. This verse is a cruce. There can be no doubt that Nilakantha's explanation is correct. Only, as regards budhyavara I am disposed to differ from him very slightly. The grammar of the first line is this: 'Gunadane manah sada budhiyaraya; viprayoge cha tesham budhyavaraya.' Now 'Gunadana' means the 'adana' (destruction) of 'guna'. (This root da means to cut). What is meant by the destruction of 'guna' or attribute or earthly objects is merging them in the buddhi by yoga; in other words, a withdrawal of the senses into the mind, and the senses and the mind into the understanding. "Viprayoga cha tesham" means 'in their separation,' i.e., when these objects are believed to be real and as existing independently of the mind. The result of this would be the acquisition of 'budhyavara,' implying the acquisition of those very objects. In the case of yogins, whose minds may be in such a frame, the powers called 'asiswaryya' are acquired. There is no especial necessity, however, for taking the case of yogins. 703. What is said here is that Happiness and Sorrow have an end, though it may not be seen, and the Soul will surely come to its final resting place. This accords with the doctrine of infinite spiritual improvement. 704. Rishavam sarvattwam literally means 'the bull of Sattwatas'. Ordinarily, it is an appellation of Krishna, the prince of the Sattwatas or Yadavas. Here, however, the word is used to signify persons prizing the attribute of Goodness; hence righteous persons. 705. Prajapati literally means 'lord of creatures.' It is a name applied to those sons of Brahman who begat children. 706. Samavartin is another name for Yama the punisher of the wicked. 707. Nirapekshan is explained by Nilakantha as nirayameva ikshante tan, i.e., those who have their gaze directed towards hell alone. The Burdwan translator takes it as indicative of houseless or nomadic habits, upon what authority, it is not plain. 708. K.P. Singha takes Naravara as the name of a tribe. Of course, it is a careless blunder. 709. I think K.P. Singha misunderstands this verse. All the texts agree in reading it in the same way. To take it, therefore, as implying that the sinful races, by warring with one another, suffered destruction is doing violence to the word Rajanath. There can be no doubt that Sandhyakala means the period of junction between the two ages (Treta and Dwapara). It is called terrible. It was at this time that, that dreadful famine occurred which compelled the royal sage Viswamitra to subsist on a canine haunch. Vide Ante. 710. The correct reading is Mahatmana (instrumental) implying Krishna. The Bengal reading Mahatmavan is vicious. K.P. Singha has rendered the verse correctly. The Burdwan translator, with Nilakantha's note before him (for he uses the very words of the commentator), adheres to the vicious reading and mistranslates the verse. 711. This verse evidently shows that there was dispute about Krishna's supremacy, as Professor Weber guesses. The Krishna-cult was at first confined among a small minority, Sisupala's and Jarasandha's unwillingness to admit the divinity of Krishna distinctly points to this. 712. This is certainly a very fanciful etymology of the word Sanatana which ordinarily implies eternal. 713. Atma Atmanah is explained by Nilakantha as jivasya paramarthikam swarupam. 714. Swamatmanam is Pratyathatmyam. 715. The sense is that when all men are equal in respect of their material cause, why are such differences in the srutis and the smritis about the duties of men? 716. The meaning seems to be this: in the beginning of every celestial yuga, i.e., when the Supreme Being awaking from sleep desires to create creatures anew, and creatures or beings start again into life. With such starting of every being, the rules that regulate their relations and acts also spring up, for without a knowledge of those rules, the new creation will soon be a chaos and come to an end. Thus when man and woman start into life, they do not eat each other but combine to perpetuate the species. With the increase of the human species, again, a knowledge springs up in every breast of the duties of righteousness and of the diverse other practices, all of which help to regulate the new creation till the Creator himself, at the end of the yuga, once more withdraws everything into himself. 717. i.e., the body. 718. What is meant seems to be this: there can be no river without water. A river cannot exist without water. When a river is mentioned, water is implied. The connection between a river and water is not an accident but a necessary one. The same may be said of the sun and its rays. After the same manner, the connection between the Soul and the body is a necessary one and not an accident. The Soul cannot exist without a body. Of course, the ordinary case only is referred to here, for, by yoga, one can dissociate the Soul from the body and incorporate it with Brahma. 719. The mind has no existence except as it exists in the Soul. The commentator uses the illustration of the second moon seen by the eye in water, etc., for explaining the nature of the Mind. It has no real existence as dissociated from the Soul. 720. Swabhavahetuja bhavah is explained by the commentator as the virtuous and vicious propensities. (Swabhava purvasamskara; sa eva heturyesham karmanam layah bhavah). 'All else,' of course, means Avidya or Maya, which flows directly from Brahma without being dependent on past acts. The meaning, then, is this: as soon as the Soul takes a new form or body, all the propensities and inclinations, as dependent on its past acts, take possession of it, Avidya or Maya also takes possession of it. 721. Both the vernacular translators have wrongly rendered this verse, notwithstanding the help they have derived from Nilakantha's gloss. The fact is, the gloss itself sometimes requires a gloss. Verses 3 and 4 and connected with each other. In verse 3, the speaker mentions two analogies viz., first, that of iron, which is inanimate, following the loadstone, and, second, of Swabhavahetuja bhavah (meaning, as already explained, all such consequences as are born of the acts of previous lives), as also anyadapi, i.e., all else of a similar nature, meaning, of course, the consequences of 'Avidya' or 'Maya' which flow directly from Brahma instead of former acts. In verse 4, reference is again made to avyaktajabhavah, meaning propensities and possessions born of 'Avidya' or 'Maya'. This is only a repetition, in another form, of what has already been stated in the second line of verse 3. The commentator explains this very clearly in the opening words of his gloss. After this comes the reference to the higher propensities and aspirations that are in the Soul. The grammar of the line is this: Tadvat Kartuh karanalakshanah (bhavah) karanat abhisanghathah. The plain meaning, of course, is that like all the darker and indifferent propensities and possessions that come to the Soul in its new life, born of the acts of past lives, all the higher aspirations also of the Soul come to it from Brahma direct. The word karana is used in both instances for Brahma as the Supreme Cause of everything. 722. The sense is this: In the beginning there was nothing save the Chit-Soul. Existent objects exist only because of Ignorance having defiled the Soul. Their connection again with the Soul is not absolute and necessary. That connection may be destroyed without the Soul losing anything. What is intended to be conveyed by this verse is that at first, i.e., before the creation, there was nothing, except jiva or the Soul with Knowledge alone for its indicating attribute. The things mentioned, viz., earth, etc., were not. Nor do they inhere to jiva with even Ignorance or Delusion for its indicating attribute, i.e., to the born Soul. The born Soul may seem to manifest all those attributes, but it is really independent of or separate from them. Their connection with the Soul, as already said, is neither absolute nor eternal. In the next verse, the speaker explains the nature of those manifestations. 723. The connection between earth, etc., with the Soul has before been said to be neither absolute nor eternal. Whence then that connection? In 6, it is said that all the apprehensions of the Soul with regard to earth, etc., are due to Ignorance or Delusion flowing directly from Brahma and assailing it thereafter. The apprehension of the Soul that it is a man or an animal, that it has a body, that it is acting, etc., are to borrow the commentator's illustration, just like that of one's being a king in a dream who is not, however, really a king, or of one's being a child who is not, however, really a child. Being eternal or without beginning its first existence under the influence of Delusion is untraceable. As long, again, as it has Knowledge alone for its attribute, it remains indestructible, i.e., free from the mutations of existence. It occurs in every creature, i.e., in man and beast. 724. The sense seems to be this: In consequence of desires the Soul manifests itself in some form of existence. In that state it acts. Those acts again lead to desires anew, which, in their turn, bring on new forms or states of existence. The circle of existence or life thus goes on, without beginning and without end. 725. The Cause is ignorance. The Effect is the body and the senses of a particular form of existence. When the creature, in consequence of this union, engages in acts, these latter become causes for new states of existence. 726. The object of this verse is to reiterate the doctrine that the possession of the body and the senses, etc., does not alter the state of the Soul. The Soul is really unattached to these though it may apparently exist in a state of union with them, like the wind, which existing in a state of apparent union with the dust it bears away is even at such times pure by itself and as a substance, exists separately. 727. The Vedas contain declarations of both kinds, viz., they urge to action as also to abstention from action. The former is necessary as a stepping stone to the latter. Such men are rare as understand the declarations of the Vedas in this way and as conform by their conduct to those declarations thus. What is seen, on the other hand, is that some betake themselves to acts and some to abstention from acts. The second line of the verse has been expanded a little in the translation, following Nilakantha's gloss. 728. Deha-yapanam means destruction of the connection the body has with the soul. In the second line, the performance of acts is prescribed only as a preparation, for they contribute to purity of the Soul. Acts should not, the speaker says, be performed from desire of fruit, viz., heaven, by one desirous of Emancipation. K.P. Singha omits the first line of the verse, but gives the sense of the second line correctly. The Burdwan translator mis-understands the gloss he quotes and makes nonsense of the verse. 729. Vipakram is explained by Nilakantha as pakahinam; and apakvakashayakhyam as apakva-kashaye pumsi akhya upadesah yasya lam etc. 730. Anuplavan is anusaran; akramya means upamridya. 731. Vijnana here means the loss or absence of knowledge. 732. Yathartham, i.e., for the true objects of life, viz., for acting righteously and accomplishing emancipation. 733. At first there was only jiva or the Soul having knowledge alone for its attribute. When it became clothed with Ignorance, the universe sprang up around it. Consciousness is due to that union of the Soul with Ignorance. Hence, all things rest on Consciousness, and Consciousness is the root of all sorrow. 734. The sense of this verse seems to be this: if all things rest on Consciousness which is an attribute of Ignorance or Delusion, why then this uniformity instead of the irregularity that characterises all perceptions in dreams? The answer is that the uniformity is the result of past acts, of acts which are due to Consciousness. These produce uniformity of perceptions even as time, subject to its own laws, produces the phenomena of the seasons with uniformity. 735. I have expanded the last line for bringing out the meaning of the word nasyati clearly. Of course, I follow Nilakantha's explanation of the simile. 736. In the Srutis it is said that Brahma has two attributes, Vidya (Knowledge), and Avidya (Ignorance) with Maya (delusion). It is in consequence of this Maya that chit-souls or jivas become attached to worldly things. It is in consequence of this Maya that persons, even when they understand that all is nought, cannot totally dissociate themselves from them. 737. Mana is explained by the commentator as worship of one's own self; Darpa is freedom from all restraints; and Ahankara is a complete disregard of others and centering all thoughts on ones own self. Here Ahankara is not Consciousness. 738. Kritalakshanah is explained by the Commentator as Kritaswikarah. 739. The force of the simile lies in this: Prakriti binds Kshetrajna or the Soul and obliges it to take birth, etc. Women are Prakriti, men are Souls. As the Soul should seek to avoid the contact of Prakriti and strive for emancipation, even so should men seek to avoid women. It should be added that women, in almost all the dialects of India derived from Sanskrit, are commonly called Prakriti or symbols of Prakriti, thus illustrating the extraordinary popularity of the philosophical doctrine about Prakriti and Purusha. 740. Kritya is mantra-power or the efficacy of Atharvan rites. What is said here is that women are as frightful as Atharvan rites which can bring destruction upon even unseen foes. Rajasi antarhitah means that they are sunk so completely in that attribute as to become invisible, i.e., completely enveloped by that attribute. 741. The sense is this: parasitical vermin spring from sweat and other filth emitted by the body. Children spring from the vital seed. In the former case, it is Swabhava (nature) that supplies the active energy. In the latter, the undying influence of previous acts and propensities supply the active force. One's offspring, therefore, are like parasitical vermin on one's body. Wisdom should teach disregard or indifference for either. 742. This is a repetition of what has been asserted in various forms before. Rajas (passion) is the cause of Pravritti or propensity for acts. Sattwa (goodness) is enlightenment or the higher aspirations that lead to Brahma. Both rest on Tamas (Darkness), the first immediately, the last mediately. Chit or Jiva is pure Knowledge. When overtaken by Tamas or Avyakta, it becomes clothed with that existence which is called life or which we realise in the world, the conditions of that life being Consciousness and Intelligence. 743. The Chit or Soul is all-Knowledge. When overspread with Ignorance or Darkness, it becomes manifested by Intelligence and Consciousness, i.e., assumes a form or body. Knowledge overspread by Darkness, therefore, or Knowledge with the attributes of Intelligence and Consciousness, is the cause of Chit or soul or Jiva assuming a body. Such knowledge, therefore, is called the seed of the body. Then, again, the tadvijam (the second expression), i.e., the foundation on which knowledge overspread by ignorance (or knowledge with the attributes of intelligence and consciousness) rests, is, of course, pure Knowledge or chit or jiva or Soul as it existed before life. It is only another form of repeating a statement made several times before. Both the vernacular translators have misunderstood the last half of the second line. 744. The meaning, of course, is that while in the mother's womb, the Soul remembers the acts of past lives, and those acts influence and determine the growth of its senses as also the character it will display in its new life. 745. I do not follow Nilakantha in his grammatical exposition of the second line. That exposition seems to be very far-fetched. Besides tebhyah tyagat for tesham tyagat is no violence to grammar, the use of the ablative in this sense not being infrequent in these writings. 746. Women have before (vide verse 9 of this section) been said to be the embodiment of the senses and as antarhitah in Rajas or Passion. The senses, therefore, are, it is concluded here, originated in Rajas. By the destruction, again, of Rajas, they may be destroyed. What is wanted, therefore, is the conquest of Rajas or Passion. This may be effected with the aid of the eye whose vision has been sharpened by scriptural knowledge. 747. After indriyartham, as explained by the commentator, prapyapi is understood. There are two classes of indriyas, viz., those of knowledge and those for the performance of acts. Escapes the obligation of rebirth, i.e., attains to Emancipation. 748. Arthasamanyam is explained by Nilakantha as Phalasamyam Mokshakhyam niratisayam. The Burdwan translator, while using the very words of the commentator, mistranslates this verse: The speaker desires to show the difference between the religion of Pravritti or acts and that of Nivritti or abstention from acts. Those that follow the former cannot attain to Emancipation. What they gain are certain good qualities mentioned in the next verse, which, however, are equally gained by the followers of the religion of Nivritti. 749. The vow of Krichcchra consists of certain fasts. Pass three days in water, i.e., stand in tank or stream with water up to the chin. 750. The three Riks begin with Ritancha, Satyancha etc. Every Brahmana who knows his morning and evening prayers knows these three Riks well. 751. "With the aid of the mind" means yoga. Dehakarma means one whose acts are undertaken only for the purpose of sustaining the body, i.e., one who does no act that is not strictly necessary for supporting life; hence, as the commentator explains, one who is free from all propensities leading to external objects. Manovaham Pranan nudan, i.e., bringing to sending the vital breaths to the duct called Manovaha or Sushumna. Though a physical act, its accomplishment becomes possible only by a long course of penances consisting in the withdrawal of the mind from external objects. "Reducing the (three) attributes to a state of uniformity," as explained by the commentator, means arriving at Nirvikalpa, i.e., at that state of knowledge which is independent of the senses. 752. The Knowledge here spoken of is that knowledge which is independent of the senses. What the speaker says is that such Knowledge is no myth but is sure to arise. When it arises, its possessor comes to know that the external world, etc., is only the mind transformed, like the sights seen and sounds heard and thoughts cherished in a dream. In the second line the results of that knowledge are declared. The mind of a Mahatma is mantra-siddha, i.e., has won success by the meditation of the initial mantra, or om; it is nitya, i.e., eternal, meaning probably that though the result of Maya or Avidya, it is no longer subject to rebirth; it is virajas, i.e., free from desire and passion, and lastly it is Jyotishmat or luminous, meaning Omniscient and Omnipotent. The commentator cites a passage from Vasishtha's treatise on yoga which declares the same results as consequent on the attainment of Knowledge. It is, of course, implied that in attaining to such a state, the mind as mind must be destroyed or merged into the Soul and the Soul, with knowledge only for its attribute, must exist. In the previous verse emancipation after death has been spoken of. In this jivan-mukti or emancipation in life is referred to. 753. "Freeing oneself from the attributes of Passion and Darkness", i.e., by practising the religion of abstention from acts. 754. Adatte from da meaning to cut or destroy. Manasam volam as explained by the commentator, is sankalpam, i.e., desires or purposes. The man of ripe understanding, by doing this, attains to that knowledge which is not subject to decay with age. Hence, such knowledge is superior to knowledge acquired in the ordinary way. 755. Compassion may sometimes lead to excess of attachment, as in the case of Bharata towards his little deer. The universe is the result of acts because acts determine the character of the life the soul assumes. In the case of Bharata, he was obliged to take birth as a deer in his next life in consequence of all his thoughts in the previous life having been centred on a deer. 756. K.P. Singha wrongly translates this verse. Tat should be supplied before asnute; there is redundant va in the first line. The Burdwan translator renders it correctly. 757. The buddhi here referred to is intelligence cleansed by scriptures. Samahitam manak is, as explained by the commentator, mind freed from anger and malice, etc., i.e., properly trained. 758. One should not covet, etc., like kingdoms and thrones in the case of ordinary men. "Non-existent objects," such as sons and wives that are dead or that are unborn or unwed. 759. Samsara, as explained by the commentator, means both this and the other world. It is bound in speech in this sense, viz., that whatever is spoken is never destroyed and affects permanently both the speaker and the listener, so that not only in one life, but in the infinite course of lives, the speaker will be affected for good or for evil by the words that escape his lips. This fully accords with the discovery of modern science, so eloquently and poetically enunciated by Babbage, of the indestructibility of force or energy when once applied. How appalling is the sanction (which is not a myth) under which evil speaking is forbidden. 760. Such self-disclosure destroys the effects of those acts and prevents their recurrence. 761. Robbers laden with booty are always in danger of seizure. Even so unintelligent men bearing the burdens of life are always liable to destruction. 762. Nishpraiharena means Niruddhena as explained by the commentator. 763. I adopt the reading prakasela and the interpretation that Nilakantha puts upon it. 764. K.P. Singha translates these words very carelessly. The Burdwan translator, by following the commentator closely, has produced a correct version. Kulmasha means ripe grains or seeds of the Phaselous radiatus. Pinyaka is the cake of mustard seed or sesamum after the oil has been pressed out. Yavaka means unripe barley, or, as the commentator explains, raw barley powdered and boiled in hot water. 765. What is meant by the first line of the verse is this. The Soul had, before the creation, only Knowledge for its attribute. When Ignorance or Delusion, proceeding from Supreme Brahma, took possession of it, the Soul became an ordinary creature, i.e., consciousness, mind, etc., resulted. This Ignorance, therefore, established itself upon Knowledge and transformed the original character of the Soul. What is stated in the second line is that ordinary knowledge which follows the lead of the understanding is affected by ignorance, the result of which is that the Soul takes those things that really spring from itself to be things different from itself and possessing an independent existence. 766. The correct reading, I apprehend, is upagatasprihah and not apagatasprihah. Nilakantha is silent. All that he says is that the first verse has reference to 'yogins,' the second to yogins and 'non-yogins' alike. Both the vernacular translators adhere to apagatasprihah. 767. I expand verse 8 a little for giving its meaning more clearly than a literal version would yield. All the impressions, it is said here, in dreams, are due either to the impressions of this life or those received by, the mind in the countless lives through which it has passed. All those impressions, again, are well-known to the Soul though memory may not retain them. Their reappearance in dreams is due to the action of the Soul which calls them up from the obscurity in which they are concealed. Avisena's theory of nothing being ever lost that is once acquired by the mind and the recollection of a past impression being, due to a sudden irradiation of the divine light, was, it seems, borrowed from Hindu philosophy. 768. The sense is this: a particular attribute among the three, viz., Goodness or Passion or Darkness, is brought to the mind by the influence of past acts of either this or any previous life. That attribute immediately affects the mind in a definite way. The result of this is that the elements in their subtile forms actually produce the images that correspond with or appertain to the affecting attribute and the manner in which it affects the mind. 769. Nothing less than yoga can discard or destroy them, for they really spring from desires generated by past acts. 770. The Bombay reading Manohrishyan is better. 771. Both the external and the internal worlds are due to Consciousness, which, in its turn, arises from delusion affecting the Soul. That which is called the Mind is only a product of the Soul. The world both external and internal, is only the result of Mind as explained in previous sections. Hence the Mind exists in all things. What is meant by all things existing in the Soul is that the Soul is omniscient and he who succeeds in knowing the Soul wins omniscience. 772. The body is called the door of dreams because the body is the result of past acts, and dreams cannot take place till the Soul, through past acts, becomes encased in a body. What is meant by the body disappearing in the mind is that in dreamless slumber the mind no longer retains any apprehension of the body. The body being thus lost in the mind, the mind (with the body lost in it) enters the Soul, or becomes withdrawn into it. Nidarsanam is explained as Nischitadarsanam Sakshirupam. The sense of the verse is that in dreamless slumber the senses are withdrawn into the mind; the mind becomes withdrawn into the Soul. It is the Soul alone that then lives in its state of original purity, consciousness and all things which proceed from it disappearing at the time. 773. i.e., the mind becoming pure, he gains omniscience and omnipotence. 774. The Burdwan translator, using the very words of Nilakantha, jumbles them wrongly together and makes utter nonsense of both the original and the gloss. 775. Brahma cannot, as the commentator properly explains, be seized like a creature by the horns. All that one can do is to explain its nature by reason and analogy. It can be comprehended only in the way indicated, i.e., by Pratyahara. 776. The commentator thinks that the Rishi alluded to in this verse is Narayana, the companion and friend of Nara, both of whom had their retreat on the heights of Vadari where Vyasa afterwards settled himself. Tattwa here does not, the commentator thinks, mean a topic of discourse but that which exists in original purity and does not take its colour or form from the mind. Anaropitam rupam yasya tat. 777. The religion of Pravritti consists of acts. It cannot liberate one from rebirth. The whole chain of existences, being the result of acts, rests upon the religion of Pravritti. The religion of Nivritti, on the other hand, or abstention from acts, leads to Emancipation or Brahma. 778. Nidarsarkah is explained by the commentator as equivalent to drashtum ichcchan. 779. Avyakta or Unmanifest is Prakriti or primordial matter both gross and subtile. That which transcends both Prakriti and Purusha is, of course the Supreme Soul or Brahma. Visesham, is explained by the commentator as 'distinguished from everything else by its attributes.' 780. i.e., as the commentator explains, Purusha is non-creating and transcends the three attributes. 781. Asamhatau is explained by the commentator as atyantaviviktau. Purushau implies the two Purushas, i.e., the 'Chit-Soul' and the Supreme Soul. 782. The four topics are these: the points of resemblance between Prakriti and Purusha, the points of difference between them: the points of resemblance between Purusha and Iswara; and the points of difference between them. The four considerations that cover these topics are absence of beginning and end, existence as chit and in animation, distinction from all other things, and the notion of activity. 783. Yoginastam prapasyanti bhagavantam santanam--even this is what people always say to yoga and yogins. 784. The commentator in a long note explains that what is really implied by this verse is that one should betake oneself to some sacred spot such as Kasi for casting off one's life there. Death at Kasi is sure to lead to Emancipation, for the theory is that Siva himself becomes the instructor and leads one to that high end. 785. When divested of Rajas, i.e., freed from the senses and the propensities derived from their indulgence. 786. Adehat is explained by the commentator as Dehapatat. Dehantat applies to the destruction of all the three bodies. By the destruction (after death) of the gross body is meant escape from the obligation of rebirth. The karana body is a subtiler form of existence than the Linga-sarira: it is, of course, existence; Prakriti as mentioned in verse 21. 787. Paropratyasarge means on the rise of a knowledge of Brahma. Niyati is Necessity, in consequence of which jiva goes through an endless wheel of existences; Bhavantaprabhavaprajna is bhavanamanta-prabhavayorevaprajna yesham. The object of the verse is to show that such mistaken persons as take the body, the senses, etc., and all which are not-Self, to be Self, are always taken up with the idea that things die and are born, but that there is nothing like emancipation or a complete escape from rebirth. 788. 'By the aid of patience' is explained by the commentator as without leaving their seats and changing the yoga attitude, etc. 'Withdrawing themselves from the world of senses' means attaining to a state that is perfectly independent of the senses and, therefore, of all external objects. 'Adore the senses in consequence of their subtility,' as explained by the commentator, is thinking of Prana and the Indriyas as Self or Soul. I do not understand how this amounts to the statement that such yogins attain to Brahma. 789. 'Proceeding according to (the stages indicated in) the scriptures' alludes to the well-known verses in the Gita, beginning with Indriyebhyah parahyartha, etc. The several stages, as mentioned in those verses, are as follows: Superior to the senses are their objects. Superior to the objects is the mind. Superior to the mind is the understanding. Superior to the understanding is the Soul. Superior to the Soul is the Unmanifest. Superior to the Unmanifest is Purusha (Brahma). There is nothing above Purusha. Dehantam is explained as that which is superior to Avyakta or Unmanifest, hence Brahma or Purusha. 790. A flash of lightning repeatedly realised becomes a mass of blazing light. Perhaps this is intended by the speaker. 791. In the Bengal texts, verse 28 is a triplet. In the second line the correct reading is Dehantam. 792. Mara, Prakriti, and Purusha, or Effects, their material Cause, and the Supreme Soul. 793. Nanapashandavashinah is another reading which is noticed by the commentator. It is explained as 'censurers of diverse sects of Lokayatikas.' 794. Panchasrotas implies the mind which is said to have five currents. 795. These are the annamaya, the pranamaya, the manomaya, the vijnanamaya, and the anandamaya. For particulars, vide Wilson's Dict. 796. The verb used is nyavedayat, literally, 'represented,' i.e., 'started' for discourse, or enquired into. The Burdwan translator renders it 'exposed' or 'promulgated,' which, I think, is incorrect. 797. The Burdwan translator makes a ridiculous blunder by supposing that Asuri obtained this knowledge in consequence of the questions of his disciple. The fact is, samprishtah, as correctly explained the commentator, means samyak prishta prasno yasya. K.P. Singha avoids the error. 798. Kutumvini means a matron or the wife of a house-holder. 799. Either Markandeya or Sanatkumara, according to the commentator. 800. I slightly expand Sarvanirvedam according to the explanation given by Nilakantha. The Sankhya doctrine proceeds upon the hypothesis that all states of life imply sorrow. To find a remedy for this, i.e., to permanently escape all sorrow, is the end of that philosophy. 801. These are the characteristics of that Delusion under which man takes birth in this world and goes on living till he can permanently conquer all sorrow. 802. The construction of the first foot is Atmano mrityuh Anatma, meaning the Soul's death (or that which is called death) is the Soul's extinction. Verse 24 recites the opinion of the Sceptics, not that of the speaker. K.P. Singha mistranslates the verse. The Burdwan translator renders it correctly. 803. This and all the following verses are statements of the sceptic's arguments. 804. Verse 29 is highly terse. The words are grammatically unconnected with one another. Only a few substantives have been used. These represent the heads of the different arguments urged by sceptics for showing the non-existence of anything besides the body which is seen and felt. I have, of course, followed the commentator in his elaboration of the sense of the verse. There can be no doubt that the commentator is right. 805. Some idea may be formed by the English reader of the extreme terseness of these verses by attending to the elaborations contained within the parentheses above. The exigencies of English grammar as also of perspicuity have obliged me to use, even in the portions unenclosed, more words than what occur in the original Sanskrit. All these verses are cruces intended to stagger Ganesa. 806. Both the vernacular translators have rendered this verse wrongly. This fact is, without clearly understanding either the text or the gloss, they have used bits of the gloss without being able to convey any intelligible idea. The gloss sometimes requires gloss to make it intelligible. The commentator says that the theory of rebirth mentioned in verse 34 is that of the Sugatas or Buddhists. That theory is refuted in verse 35. The objection to the Buddhistic theory is that mere ignorance and karma cannot explain rebirth. There must be an indestructible Soul. This the Buddhists do not allow, for they believe that Nirvana or annihilation is possible. The argument, as sketched, proceeds in this way: the being that is the result of the rebirth is apparently a different being. What right have we to assert its identity with the being that existed before? Ignorance and karma cannot _create_ a Soul though they may affect the surroundings of the Soul in its new birth. The objections to the Buddhistic theory became clear in the verses that follow. 807. The sense is this: it is never seen in the world that the acts of one person affect for good or for evil another person. If Chaitra exposes himself to the night air, Maitra never catches cold for it. This direct evidence should settle the controversy about the unseen, viz., whether the acts of one in a previous life can affect another in a subsequent life if there be no identity between the two beings in two lives. 808. It is needless to say that I have considerably elaborated the second line of the verse, as a literal rendering would have been entirely unintelligible. For example's sake I give that rendering; "That which is separate Consciousness is also different. That from which it is, does not recommend self." 809. If (as has already been said) the second Consciousness be the resulting effect of the loss or destruction itself of the previous Consciousness, then destruction is not annihilation, and, necessarily, after Nirvana has been once attained, there may be a new Consciousness or new birth, and, thus, after having again attained to Nirvana the same result may follow. The Buddhistic Nirvana, therefore, cannot lead to that final Emancipation which is indicated into the Brahmanical scriptures. 810. The Buddhists then, according to this argument, are not at all benefited by asserting the existence of a permanent Soul unto which each repeated Consciousness may inhere. The Soul, according to the Brahmanical scriptures, has no attributes or possessions. It is eternal, immutable, and independent of all attributes. The affirmance of attributes with respect to the Soul directly leads to the inference of its destructibility, and hence the assertion of its permanency or indestructibility under such conditions is a contradiction in terms, according to what is urged in this verse. 811. The commentator explains that the object of this verse is to point out that the senses, when destroyed, merge into their productive causes or the substances of which they are attributes. Of course, those causes or substances are the elements or primordial matter. This leads to the inference that though attributes may meet with destruction, yet the substances (of which they are attributes) may remain intact. This may save the Buddhist doctrine, for the Soul, being permanent and owing consciousness, etc., for its attributes, may outlive, like primordial matter, the destruction of its attributes. But the speaker urges that this doctrine is not philosophical and the analogy will not hold. Substance is conjunction of attributes. The attributes being destroyed, the substance also is destroyed. In European philosophy too, matter, as an unknown essence to which extension, divisibility, etc., inhere, is no longer believed in or considered as scientific. 812. Here the speaker attacks the orthodox Brahmanical doctrine of the character of the Soul. 813. Possibly because they art based on Revelation. 814. The first five are the effects of intelligence; the vital breaths, of wind; and the juices and humours, of stomachic heat. 815. Intelligence is called avyaya because it leads to Emancipation which is such. It is also called mahat because of its power to lead to Brahma which is mahat. Tattwanischaya is called the seed of Emancipation because it leads to Emancipation. 816. That path consists of yoga. 817. By casting off the mind one casts off the five organs of action. By casting off the understanding, one casts off the organs of knowledge with the mind. 818. i.e., in each of these operations three causes must exist together. 819. The inference is that the functions being destroyed, the organs are destroyed, and the mind also is destroyed, or, the mind being destroyed, all are destroyed. 820. The commentator correctly explains that na in nanuparyeta is the nom. sing. of nri (man), meaning here, of course, the dreamer. Nilakantha's ingenuity is certainly highly commendable. 821. Uparamam is yugapadbhavasya uchcchedam or extinction of the state of association of the Soul with the understanding, the mind, and the senses. This dissociation of the Soul from the understanding, etc., is, of course, Emancipation. Emancipation, however, being eternal, the temporary dissociation of the soul from the understanding, etc., which is the consequence of dreamless sleep, is the result of Tamas or Darkness. That dissociation is certainly a kind of felicity, but then it differs from the felicity of Emancipation, which is everlasting, and which is not experienced in the gross body. 822. In this verse the speaker points out that the felicity of Emancipation may at first sight seem to be like the felicity of dreamless sleep, but that is only an error. In reality, the former is untouched or unstained by darkness. Na krichechramanupasyati is the reading I take, meaning "in which no one sees the slightest tincture of sorrow." The kind of sorrow referred to is the sorrow of duality or consciousness of knower and known. In Emancipation, of course, there cannot be any consciousness of duality. Both the vernacular versions are thoroughly unmeaning. 823. In this verse the speaker again points out the similarity between dreamless sleep and Emancipation. In both swakarmapratyayah Gunah is discarded. Gunah, as explained by Nilakantha, means here the whole range of subjective and objective existences from Consciousness to gross material objects, swakarmapratyayah means karmahetu kavirbhava, i.e., having acts for the cause of their manifestation; this refers to the theory of rebirth on account of past acts. 824. The sense of the verse is this: all creatures are perceived to exist. That existence is due to the well-known cause constituted by Avidya and desire and acts. They exist also in such a way as to display a union between the body and Soul. For all common purposes of life we treat creatures that we perceive to be really existing. The question then that arises is--which (the body or the Soul) is destructible?--We cannot answer this question in any way we like, like for swaswato va katham uchcchedavan, bhavet (i.e., how can the Soul, Which is said by the learned to be Eternal, be regarded as destructible?) Vartamaneshu should be treated as, Laukikavyavareshu. Uchcchedah is, of course, equivalent to Uchcchedavan. 825. i.e., the gross body disappears in the subtile; the subtile into the karana (potential) form of existence; and this last into the Supreme Soul. 826. Merit and sin, and with them their effects in the form of happiness and misery both here and hereafter, are said to be destroyed when men become unattached to everything and practise the religion of abstention or nivritti. The paraphrase of the second line is asaktah alepamakasam asthaya mahati alingameva pacyanti. Alepamakasam asthaya is explained by the commentator as Sagunam Brahma asthaya. 827. Urnanabha is generic term for all worms that weave threads from within their bellies. It does not always mean the spider. Here, it implies a silk-worm. The analogy then becomes complete. 828. Nipatatyasaktah is wrongly rendered by the Burdwan translator. K.P. Singha gives the sense correctly but takes nipatali for utpatati. 829. Samudayah is explained by the commentator as equivalent to hetu. 830. Giving food and clothes to the poor and needy in times of scarcity is referred to. 831. The reading I adopt is Vrataluvdhah. If, however, the Bengal reading vrataluplah be adopted, the meaning would be "such men are deceived by their vows," the sense being that though acquiring heaven and the other objects of their desire, yet they fall down upon exhaustion of their merit and never attain to what is permanent, viz., emancipation, which is attainable by following the religion of nivritti only. 832. The object of Bhishma's two answers is to show that the giving of pain to others (sacrificing animals) is censurable, and the giving of pain to one's own self is equally censurable. 833. Existence comes into being and ceases. Non-existence also comes into being and ceases. This is the grammatical construction. The words, of course, imply only the appearance and disappearance of all kinds of phenomena. 834. This refers to the theory set forth in the previous sections about the Soul's real inactivity amidst its seeming activity in respect of all acts. 835. The Burdwan translator renders the second line as "six thousand Gandharvas used to dance before thee seven kinds of dance." 836. Both the vernacular translators have misunderstood this verse. A samya is explained as a little wooden cane measuring about six and thirty fingers breadth in altitude. What Vali did was to go round the Earth (anuparyagah, i.e., parihrityagatavan) throwing or hurling a samya. When thrown from a particular point by a strong man, the samya clears a certain distance. This space is called a Devayajana. Vali went round the globe, performing sacrifices upon each such Devayajana. 837. Pravyaharaya is explained by the commentator as prakrishtokaye. 838. I follow Nilakantha's gloss in rendering this verse. Hatam is explained as nirjivam deham, i.e., the body divested of Soul. He who slays another is himself slain, means that a person who regards his own self as the slayer is steeped in ignorance, for the Soul is never an actor. By thinking that he is the actor a person invests his Soul with the attributes of the body and the senses. Such a man (as already said) is Hatah or slain (i.e., steeped in ignorance). Comparing this with verse 19 of Sec. 11 of the Gita, we find that the same thing is asserted therein a slightly different way. 'He who regards the Soul as the slayer and he who regards it as slain are both mistaken. The Soul does not slay nor is slain.' 839. Compare this with the saying usually credited to Napoleon that St. Helena was written in the book of Fate. 840. The original, if literally rendered, would be 'Time cooks everything.' 841. Bhujyante is explained by the commentator as equivalent to palyante or samhriyante. 842. Brahma is indestructible as jiva or Soul, and is destructible as displayed in the form of not-Self. 843. I expand verse 50 for giving its sense as a literal version would be unintelligible. 844. One that is borne with great difficulty. 845. Literally, the desire for action; hence abundance or plenty that is the result of action or labour. 846. All these names imply plenty and prosperity. 847. i.e., with hands not washed after rising from his meals or while going on with his meals. 848. The commentator explains that according to the Pauranic theory, the world stands all around the mountains of Meru. The region of Brahman stands on its top. The Sun travels round Meru and shines over all the directions or points of the compass. This happens in the age called the Vaivaswata Manwantara (the age or epoch of Manu the son of Vivaswat). But after the lapse of this age, when the Savarnika Manwantara comes, the sun will shine upon only the region on the top of Meru, and all around there will be darkness. 849. i.e., all things are destructible instead of being eternal. 850. The commentator explains that Hridyam means Hritstham swarupam. By Kalyanam, of course, Moksha or Emancipation is intended. 851. As explained in previous verses, one striving to attain Emancipation must set himself to yoga. As a consequence of yoga, one acquires (without wishing for them) many wonderful powers. The accomplishment of one's objects then follows as a matter of course. 852. The sense is this: a wise man never regards himself as the actor; and hence never feels sorrow. Whatever sorrow overtakes him he views unmoved and takes it as the result of what had been ordained. Not so the foolish man. He deems himself to be the actor and looks upon sorrow as the result of his own acts. Hence, he cannot view it unmoved. Sorrow, therefore, lies in one's regarding oneself as the actor; the true view being that one instead of being an actor is only an instrument in the hands of the great Ordainer. 853. The object of this verse is to show that right conclusions in respect of duties are very rare. 854. This is a hard hit, The listener, viz., Indra, had violated, under circumstances of the most wicked deception, the chastity of Gautama's spouse Ahalya. Gautama had to punish his wife by converting her into a stone. This punishment, however, reacted upon Gautama inasmuch as it put a stop to his leading any longer a life of domesticity. In spite of such a dire affliction Gautama did not suffer his cheerfulness to depart from his heart. The effect of the allusion is to tell Indra that the speaker is not like him but like Gautama, i.e., that Namuchi was not the slave of his passions but that he was the master of his senses and the heart. 855. The we here is the pronoun of dignity, applying to the speaker only and not to both the speaker and the listener. 856. The sentence is an interrogative one. The Burdwan translator mistakes the meaning. K.P. Singha is correct. 857. These things had not happened for many days in consequence of the wickedness of the Asuras. With the victory of Indra, sacrifices returned, and with them universal peace. 858. The words are Dhruvadwarabhavam. The commentator is silent. Probably a Himalayan Pass. The vernacular translators think it is the region of the Pole-star that is intended. Dhruva is a name of Brahman the Creator. It may mean, therefore, the river as it issues out of Brahman's loka or region. The Pauranic myth is that issuing from the foot of Vishnu, the stream enters the Kamandalu of Brahman and thence to the earth. 859. The reader of Lord Lytton's works may, in this connection, be reminded of the discourse between Mejnour and the neophyte introduced to him by Zanoni, in course of their evening rambles over the ridges of the Appenines. 860. K.P. Singha wrongly translates this verse. 861. It is difficult to give to non-Hindu people the idea of what is uchchhishta. The hand becomes uchchhishta when set to food that is being eaten. Without washing that hand with pure water, it is never used by a Hindu for doing any work. The food that remains in a dish after some portion of it has been eaten is uchchhishta. The idea is particular to Hinduism and is not to be seen among other races or peoples in the world. 862. Yavasa is pasture grass. 863. Payasa is a kind of pudding prepared of rice boiled in sugared milk. Krisara is milk, sesamum, and rice. Sashkuli is a sort of pie, made of rice or barley boiled in sugared water. 864. No merit attaches to the act of feeding an illiterate person. 865. The correct reading is Vyabhajat. The Bengal reading vyabhayat would imply a tautology, for the second line would then give the same meaning as the first. 866. Everything else liable to be affected by primordial nature. Only the Supreme Soul cannot be affected. Hence, Brahma is often said to be "above Prakriti." Prakriti, here, is of course used in its largest sense. 867. The second line of verse 8, and the last clause of the first line of verse 9, are wrongly rendered by both the vernacular translators. K.P. Singha omits certain portions, while the Burdwan translator, as usual, writes nonsense. The verb is nihnuvanti, meaning 'conceal': i.e., 'do not brag of.' The verb vadishyanti is to be repeated after ahite hitam. For hitam ahitam may be read by way of antithesis. 868. K.P. Singha mistranslates this verse. 869. The Burdwan translator misunderstands the word anavajnata. K.P. Singha skips over it. 870. The sense is this: though really unattached, he seems to be attached. In this there is especial merit. A man doing the duties of a householder, without, however, being attached to wife and children and possessions, is a very superior person. Such a one has been compared to a lotus leaf, which, when dipped in water, is never soaked or drenched by it. Some, seeing the difficulty of the combat, fly away. In this there is little merit. To face all objects of desire, to enjoy them, but all the while to remain so unattached to them as not to feel the slightest pang if dissociated from them, is more meritorious. 871. Kalajnanena nishthitam are the words of the original. Vyasa's answer is taken up with assigning limits to the successive periods of Creation and Non-existence, or the durations of Brahman's wakeful and sleeping periods. 872. Agre is explained by the commentator as srishteh prak. 873. The Krita extends in all for 4,800 years. The Treta for 3,600; the Dwapara for 2,400; and the Kali for 1,200. These are, however, the years of the deities. Verses 15-17 and 20-21 occur in Manusmriti, Chapter 1. 874. This verse occurs in Manusmriti, corresponding with 81 of Chapter 1. The reading, however, in Manusmriti, is slightly different, for the last clause is Manushyanpavartate. In rendering verse 23, I take this reading and follow Medhatithi's gloss. If Nilakantha's gloss and the reading in both the Bengal and the Bombay texts be followed, the passage would run thus,--"No instruction or precept of that age ran along unrighteous ways, since that was the foremost of all ages." Nilakantha explains parah as sa cha parah. K.P. Singha skips over the difficulty and the Burdwan translator, as usual, gives an incorrect version. 875. The total comes up to 12,000 years. These constitute a Devayuga. At thousand Devayugas compose a day of Brahman. Verse 28 occurs in Manusmriti, Chapter 1. 876. The reader who has gone through the previous Sections can have no difficulty in understanding this. The external world is nothing but Mind transformed. Mind, therefore, is spoken of here as Vyaktatmaka or that which is the soul of the vyakta or that is manifest, or that which is the vyakta, or between which and the vyakta there is no difference whatever. Some of the Bengal texts do not conclude Section 231 with the 32nd verse but go on and include the whole of the 232nd Section in it. This, however, is not to be seen in the Bombay texts as also in some of the texts of Bengal that I have seen. 877. Tejomayam is explained by the commentator as Vasanamayam or having the principle of desire or wish within it, otherwise Creation could not take place. Yasya is used for yatah. 878. By Mahat is meant Pure or Subtile Intelligence. The Manifest starts into existence from Mind or has Mind for its soul. Hence, as explained in previous Sections, Mind is called Vyaktatmakam. 879. These seven great Beings or entities are Mahat, the same speedily transformed into Mind, and the five elemental entities of Space, etc. 880. Verses 4, 5, 6 and 7 occur in Manusmriti, corresponding with the latter's 75, 76, 77 and 78 of Chapter 1. 881. Chit or Jiva is called Purusha or resider in body, because when overlaid with Avidya by the Supreme Soul, it is not possible for it to exist in any other way than by being invested with a covering or case made of primordial matter determined by the power of acts. Here, however, it means limbs or avayavam. 882. What is stated in verse 10, 11 and 12 is this: the seven great entities, in their gross form, are unable, if separate, to produce anything. They, therefore, combine with one another. Thus uniting, they first form the asrayanam of sarira i.e., the constituent parts of the body. They, at this stage, must be known by the name of Purusha of avayava, i.e., mere limbs. When these limbs again unite, then murtimat shodasatmakam sartram bhavati, i.e., the full body, possessed of form and having the six and ten attributes, comes into existence. Then the subtile Mahat and the subtile bhutas, with the unexhausted residue of acts, enter it. The plural form 'mahanti' is used because, as the commentator explains, 'pratipurusham mahatadinam bhinnatwapratipadanertham,' i.e., the same 'mahat,' by entering each different form apparently becomes many. Thus there are two bodies, one gross, and the other subtile called 'linga-sarira.' The residue of acts is thus explained: all creatures enjoy or suffer the effects of their good and bad acts. If, however, the consequences of acts, good and bad, be all exhausted, there can be no rebirth. A residue, therefore, remains in consequence of which rebirth becomes possible. Creation and destruction, again, are endlessly going on. The beginning of the _first_ Creation is inconceivable. The Creation here described is one of a series. This is further explained in the verses that follow. 883. The six and ten parts are the five gross bhutas, and the eleven senses of knowledge and action including mind. The great creatures are the tan-mantras of the gross elements, i.e., their subtile forms. At first the gross body (with the principle of growth) is formed, into it enters the subtile body or the linga-sarira. At first (as already said) the gross elements come together. Then the subtile ones with the residue of acts. Then enters the Soul which is Brahma itself. The Soul enters into the subtile form for witnessing, or surveying. All creatures are only manifestations of that Soul due to the accident of Avidya or Maya. Tapas means, as the commentator explains, alochana. 884. i.e., this variety of Being and this variety of relations. 885. Anubhe is explained as ubhayavyatiriktam. Sattwasthas are those that depend upon the really existent, i.e., those that regard Brahma as the sole cause competent for the production of all effects. 886. It is exceedingly difficult to understand the true meaning of these verses. A verbal translation is not calculated to bring out the sense. Apparently, the statement that all things are contained in the Vedas is nonsense. In reality, however, what is intended to be said is that as the Vedas are Speech or Words, the Creator had to utter words symbolizing his ideas before creating anything. It is remarkable that there is a close resemblance between the spirit of the first chapter of Genesis with what is contained in the Srutis on the subject of Creation. Let there be Earth, and there was Earth, says the inspired poet of Genesis. Nilakantha cites exactly similar words from the Srutis as those which Brahman uttered for creating the Earth, such as, Bhuriti vyaharau as Bhumimasrijat. Then the four modes of life with the duties of each, the modes of worship, etc., were also indicated, hence, all acts also are in the Vedas which represent the words of Brahma. 887. All things are Sujata or well-made by him. In Genesis it is said that God uttered particular words and particular objects sprang into existence, and He saw that they were good. 888. The first line contains only technical terms. Nama means Rigveda. Hence, it stands for study of all the Vedas. Bheda stands for half, i.e., for the wife, who must be associated with her husband in all religious acts. Tapah is penance; hence it stands for all kinds of observances like chandrayana, and modes of life, vanaprastha, etc. Karma means such acts as the saying of morning and evening prayers, etc. Yama is sacrifice like jyotishtoma etc. Akhya means such acts as lead to good fame, like the digging of tanks, the making of roads, etc. Aloka, meaning meditation, is of three kinds. Lastly, comes Siddhi, meaning that emancipation which is arrived at by one during this life. The instrumental plural kramaih should be construed as dasabhih karmaih namadibhi sahita Vedeshu prechate. K.P. Singha has correctly rendered the verse, omitting reference to Siddhi. The Burdwan translator has totally misunderstood it. 889. Gahanam is explained by the commentator as duravagaham Brahma; vedavadeshu means, according to him, the rites and observances laid down in the Vedas. It is better, however, to take it literally, i.e., for the words of the Vedas. Vedanteshu means 'in the Upanishads,' which come _after_ the Vedas, Both the Vernacular translators have misunderstood this verse. 890. This verse is, no doubt, pleonastic. The commentator interprets it in the way I have rendered it. Yathadharmam, according to him, means 'without transgressing acts and duties consistent with virtue'; yathagamam means 'following the authority of the scriptures'; vikriyate implies 'do from motives of advantage and gain.' The sense seems to be that in the three other yugas, men, without absolutely abandoning virtue, perform good acts and Vedic sacrifices and rites and scriptural vows and observances, from motives of low gain and not as a Preparation for Emancipation. Thus even in the Kali age, Vedic rites are not absolutely unknown. The motive, however, from which these are undertaken is connected with some low or sordid gain. 891. Samayah sthanam matam; sa eva bhutani bhavati; sa eva tan dadhati. This is the construction, as explained by the commentator. 892. From what has been said in the previous Sections, the reader will have no difficulty in understanding what is meant by abhivyaktatmakam manah. It is mind that is the essence of all that is abhivyakta or manifest. That mind swallows up the attribute of Space. Hence it is avyaktam, that swallows up the manaso vyaktam. This swallowing up is Brahmah sampratisancharah or destruction of the outward universe in its manifest vastness. The commentator gives the substance of the verse in these words: manahkalpito virat manasi eva liyate. From the verses that follow it would seem that the object of this section is to describe the yogin's pratyahara and not the actual dissolution of the universe. 893. Verses 16 and 17 are exceedingly difficult. The commentator has shown great learning in expounding them. Unfortunately, the subject is a yoga mystery, and the explanation and illustrations of the commentator refer to things beyond the reach of ordinary experience and intelligence. The words Chandramas, Kala, and Valam, and Akasa also and Ghosa (in verse 17), are technical terms of yoga. I referred the passage to more than one learned Pundit. My referees are of opinion that a yoga mystery is here expounded, which yogins alone can understand. European scholars will probably smile at the statement that there is a hidden meaning in these words. Most readers will take the verses for nonsense. Reflection, however, has convinced me that yoga is not nonsense. One who has not studied the elements of Geometry or Algebra, cannot, however intelligent, hope to understand at once a Proposition of the Principia or the theorem of De Moivre. Failing to give the actual sense, I have contented myself with giving a verbal translation. 894. Jatakarma is the ceremony that is performed with certain Vedic mantras immediately after a child's birth. There are many such ceremonies to be performed till Samavartana or return from the preceptor's home after completion of the period of pupilage. These ceremonies are necessarily such that they must be performed by the child's father or somebody else whom the latter might call in. 895. In this country, no fees are charged for tuition. The pupil, however, after completing his studies, may give his preceptor a final fee which is determined by the choice of the preceptor himself and which varies according to the means of the pupil leaving the preceptor's home for his own. 896. By begetting children, one pays off one's debt to ancestors; by studying the Vedas, one pays off one's debt to the Rishis; and by performing sacrifices one pays off one's debt to the deities. 897. It is a deadly sin to take anything from the father-in-law or other relatives (by marriage) of a daughter. What is got from such sources is, to this day, spent freely. Those persons that sell their daughters in marriage are universally reckoned as fallen. 898. The fact is, the duty of the householder obliges him to worship the deities and the Pitris, and to become hospitable to the others named. The Brahmana, however, has no ostensible means for discharging this duty. The only means open to him is acceptance of gifts. In this case, acceptance, therefore, for such ends is not productive of demerit. 899. Kritadapi is explained by the commentator as pakvannadapi. 900. The sense is that there is no gift which is too valuable for such persons. 901. The first and the fourth verses are triplets in the Bengal texts. 902. These are, of course, religious acts. 903. In the Bengal texts verse 12 consists of one line. This, I think, is correct. Verses 13, 14, 15, and 16 form one sentence. Verse 12 is complete by itself. The udaka in kalodaka should be taken as meaning stream or river otherwise ahoratrajalena would be pleonastic. Again arthakamajalena, to avoid redundancy, should be taken as implying the springs that supply the water. Vihinsa-taruvahina is, 'having benevolence for the trees that float on its water.' This idea is beautiful. Creatures that are being borne away in the stream of Time may catch these trees of benevolence for saving themselves. The Burdwan translator misunderstands vihinsa and makes nonsense of the idea. Altogether, though highly ornate, the metaphors are original. Of course, the idea is eminently oriental. Eastern rhetoric being fond of spinning out metaphors and similes, which, in the hands of Eastern poets, become highly elastic. 904. K.P. Singha misunderstands this verse. The Burdwan translator is also inaccurate. 905. The place should be a level spot, not impure (such as a crematorium, etc.), free from kankars, fire, and sand, etc.; solitary and free from noise and other sources of disturbance. Acts include abstention from food and sports and amusements, abstention from all kinds of work having only worldly objects to accomplish, abstention also from sleep and dreams. Affection means that for good disciples or for progress in yoga. Objects refer to sacred fuel, water, and suppression of expectancy and anxiety, etc. Means refer to the seat to be used, the manner of sitting, and the attitude of the body. Destruction refers to the conquest of desire and attachments, i.e., renunciation of all attractive things. Certainty means the unalterable belief that what is said about yoga in the Vedas and by preceptors is true. The nom. sing. inflection stands for the instrumental plural. Eyes include the other senses. All these should be restrained. Food means pure food. Suppression refers to the subjugation of our natural inclination towards earthly objects. Mind here has reference to the regulation of the will and its reverse, viz., irresolution. Survey means reflection on birth, death, decrepitude, disease, sorrow, faults, etc. In giving these meanings, I, of course, follow Nilakantha. 906. Notwithstanding Nilakantha's gloss which shows great ingenuity and which has been apparently followed by both of them, the Vernacular translators have misunderstood Portions of these verses which sketch out the course of life which one desirous of attaining to Emancipation or Brahma is to follow. Particular virtues or attributes have been represented as particular limbs of the car. It does not appear that there is (except in one or two instances), any especial aptitude in any of those virtues or attributes for corresponding with One instead of with another limb of the figurative car. Upastha is that part of the car on which the driver sits. Varutha is the wooden fence round a car for protecting it against the effects of collision. Shame is the feeling that withdraws us from all wicked acts. Kuvara is the pole to which the yoke is attached. Upaya and Apaya, which have been called the kuvara, are 'means' and destruction'--explained in verse above. Aksha is the wheel. Yuga is the yoke. Vandhura is that part of yuga where it is attached to the pole, i.e., its Middle, about which appears something like a projecting knob. Nemi is the circumference of the wheel. Nabhi is the central portion of the car upon which the rider or warrior is seated. Pratoda is the goad with which the driver urges, the steeds. The commentator explains that jiva-yuktah means having such a jiva as is desirous of attaining to Emancipation or Moksha. Such elaborate figures are favourite conceits of Oriental poets. 907. Adopting the Kantian distribution of the mental phenomena, viz., the three great divisions of Cognitive faculties, Pleasure and Pain, and Desire and Will, Sir William Hamilton subdivides the first (viz., the Cognitive faculties), into the acquisitive faculty, the retentive faculty, the reproductive faculty, the representative faculty, and reason or judgment by which concepts are compared together. Dharana corresponds with the exercise of the Representative faculty or the power by which the mind is held to or kept employed upon a particular image or notion. It is this faculty that is especially trained by yogins. Indeed, the initial stop consists in training it to the desirable extent. 908. The seven kinds of Dharanas appertain respectively to Earth, Wind, Space, Water, Fire, Consciousness and Understanding. 909. All these have been explained lower down. 910. The construction of both these lines is difficult to understand. The prose order of the line is 'yogatah yuktesu (madhye) yasya yatha, etc., vikrama (tatha vakshyami); atmani pasyatah (janasya) yuktasya yogasya (yatha) siddhi (tatha vakshyami).' Yogatah means upayatah, i.e., according to rules and ordinances. Vikrama is used in a peculiar sense, viz., anubhavakramah, i.e., the order of conception or conceptions in other order. Atmani pasyatah means 'of him who looks into himself,' i.e., who withdraws his mind from the outer world and turns it to view his own self. Without Nilakantha's aid, such verses would be thoroughly unintelligible. 911. Pasyatah means 'of that which sees,' i.e., of the Atman or Soul. 912. The Understanding is called the _soul_ of the five elements and of the consciousness of individuality because these six things rest on it or have it for their refuge. The reader will easily understand this from what has been said in the previous Sections. 913. It is from the Unmanifest or the Supreme Soul that the world or all that is Manifest, springs or emanates. The Yogin, in consequence of his superior knowledge, apprehends all that is Manifest to be but the Unmanifest Supreme Soul. 914. Na kritina, i.e., kriti eva. 'Nirakriti' is regardless of dress and appearance. K.P. Singha wrongly translates both these words. 915. i.e., who has neither friend nor foe. This means that he regards all creatures with an equal eye, showing particular favour to none, and having no dislike for any. Coldness of heart is not implied, but impartial and equal benevolence for all. Taking praise and blame equally, i.e., never rejoicing at praise nor grieving at blame. 916. It is said that with the practice of Yoga, during the first stages, certain extraordinary powers come to the Yogin whether he wishes for them or not. In a previous Section it has been said that that Yogin who suffers himself to be led away by these extraordinary acquisitions, goes to hell, i.e., fails to attain to Emancipation beside which heaven itself with the status of Indra is only hell. Hence, he who transcends the puissance that Yoga brings about becomes Emancipate. 917. Dhirah is explained as dhyanavan. Santi has reference to Emancipation, for it is Emancipation alone that can give tranquillity or final rest. The commentator points out that in this verse the speaker shows a decided preference for the Sankhya philosophy. 918. Vide Gita, verses 4 and 5, Chapter V. 919. Brahmanam is arsha for Brahmam. 920. I follow Nilakantha's gloss in rendering the words Vidya, Pravritti and Nivritti, as used in this verse. By the first, the commentator thinks, is meant that course of instruction in consequence of which error may be dispelled and truth acquired. The usual illustration of the cord and the snake is given. The former may be mistaken for the latter, but when the mistake ceases, correct apprehension follows. Pravritti has been sufficiently indicated in the text in which the words of the gloss has been incorporated. By Nivritti is meant the doctrine of the Sunyavadins and Lokayatikas (evidently the Buddhists) who seek annihilation or extinction as the only true Emancipation. Both the Vernacular translators are wrong. The Burdwan translator, as usual, citing the very words of the gloss, misunderstands them completely. 921. The construction of the first line is 'yastu achetanah bhavam vina swabhavena (sarvam bhati iti) pasyan, etc., etc., pushyate (sa na kinchana labhate).' Bhavan is explained as 'adhishthanasattam.' The commentator is of opinion that the speaker refers in this verse to the Sunyavadins. 922. The Bombay text reads Putwatrinamishikamva. 923. Enam is singular. The commentator thinks it should be taken distributively. In verse 3, the doctrine of the Nihilists (Sunyavadins) has been referred to. In verse 4, that of the Lokayatikas. In both, Nature is spoken of as the cause, with this difference that the former regard the universe to be only an erroneous impression of an existent entity, while the latter regard it as a real entity flowing from and manifesting itself under its own nature. Both doctrines, the speaker says, are false. 924. Both the Vernacular translators skip over the word paribhava in the second line of verse 6. The commentator correctly explains that swabhava in 6 means swasyaiva bhavah sattakaranam iti, ekah pakshah. Paribhava, he explains is paritah swasya itaresham bhavah. The first refers to the Nihilists, the second to the Lokayatikas or to verses 3 and 4 respectively. 925. It is by the wisdom that all these results are achieved. Wisdom is the application of means for the accomplishment of ends. Nature never rears palaces or produces vehicles and the diverse other comforts that man enjoys. He that would rely upon Nature for these would never obtain them however long he might wait. The need for exertion, both mental and physical, and the success which crowns that exertion furnish the best answer, the speaker thinks, to both the Nihilist sand the Lokayatikas. The word tulyalakshanah is skipped over by both the Bengali translators. 926. By para is meant the Chit or Soul, by avara, all else, i.e., non-ego or matter. The words Prajna, Jnana, and Vidya are all as used here, equivalent. The second line of this verse is wrongly rendered by both the Bengali translators, the Burdwan translator, as usual, not understanding the words of the gloss he quotes. 927. It is difficult to render the word cheshta as used here. Ordinarily it implies effort or action. It is plain, however, that here it stands for intelligent energy, implying both mental and physical effort or action, for its function is to distinguish or differentiate. 928. The itarani do not refer to Pisachas as rendered by K.P. Singha, but to birds which are called Khechare or denizens of the sky or air. Khechara may include Pisachas, but these are also Bhuchara or denizens of the surface of the earth. 929. The commentator explains that for ascertaining who are uttama or foremost, the middling, or intermediate ones are first spoken of and their distinctions mentioned in the following verses. Of course, the foremost are foremost, and the intermediate ones can never be superior to them. For all that, intermediate ones are observers of the duties of caste; the foremost ones are not so, they having transcended such distinctions; hence, tentatively, the ignorant or popular opinion is first taken, to the effect that the observers of caste are superior to those who do not observe Jatidharma. 930. This probably means that as the Vedas had not been reduced to writing, their contents rested or dwelt in memories of men versed in them. 931. To understand what is birth and what is death, and to avoid birth (and, therefore, death), are the highest fruits of knowledge of the Soul. Those that have no knowledge of the Soul have to travel in a round of repeated rebirths. 932. i.e., of power that comes of Yoga. 933. The word para (the locative form of which is used here) always means that which is high or foremost. It is frequently employed to mean either Brahma or the Soul, and as Soul is regarded to be a part of Brahma, para has but one and the same meaning. The Burdwan translator takes it for 'Scriptures other than the Vedas.' K.P. Singha skips over it. Of course, savda-Brahma stands for the Vedas. 934. To look upon everything in the universe as one's own. Soul is the highest aspiration of a righteous person. It is yoga that enables one to attain to this highest ideal of existence. One who realises this is said to be a true Brahmana, a really regenerate person, in fact, a god on Earth. Adhiyajna and Adhidaivata are words that signify the Soul. 935. What the distinction is between anta and nidhan is not obvious. The commentator is silent. K.P. Singha translates the verse correctly. The Burdwan translator makes utter nonsense of the words in the second line. 936. Whether karma is swabhava or jnanam means (as the commentator explains) whether it is obligatory or optional. Jnanam, of course, means here jnana-janakam, i.e., leading to knowledge. Knowledge is essential to success or emancipation. If acts become necessary for leading to knowledge, the doubt may then arise that they cease to be obligatory, for knowledge may be supposed to be attainable otherwise than by acts. K.P. Singha translates this verse correctly, the Burdwan translator incorrectly, and, as usual, misunderstands the gloss completely. 937. The first line of this verse is exceedingly terse. The construction, as explained by the commentator, is Tatra (samsaye) purusham prati Jnanam (jnanajanakam) chet (karma) syat, (tarhi) sa (eva) Vedavidhih. One cannot help admiring Nilakantha for his patience and ingenuity. 938. Daiva is explained by the commentator as Grahah or Kalah. I think, it is used to signify some kind of blind force whose origin is untraceable. Hence, I render it necessity. Vritti in verse 5 is evidently Exertion, for the word implies course of conduct, Avivekam is samuchchayam or a combination of all the three. 939. 'Inspired with doubt,' with reference to the declarations of the Srutis. 'Possessed of tranquil souls,' i.e., not penetrated by doubts of any kind. 940. In the Treta and the other Yugas people are seen professing attachment or devotion to one only of the Vedas and not to the others, be it the Richs, the Samans, or the Yajuses. The speaker, dissatisfied with this refers to the Krita age as one in which such difference of faith were not observable. The men of that age regarded all the Vedas equally, and, in fact, as even identical. 941. Jiva or Chit becomes puissant and succeeds in creating the universe by means of penance. By penance one attains to Brahma, and, therefore, universal puissance. This has been sufficiently explained in the previous Sections. 942. This is one of the most important verses in this section, for, as the commentator explains, this furnishes the answer to the question proposed in the previous section, viz., 'what is that knowledge?' In the Vedas both acts and knowledge have been spoken of. In the province of acts, Brahma has been represented as Indra and the other gods. Brahma, therefore, as spoken of there, is 'gahana', or hidden to (or inconceivable by) even those that are conversant with that province or sphere of the Vedas. In the Vedanta, again, knowledge or Vidya has been spoken of as the means by which to attain to Brahma. The knowledge or Vidya, therefore, which is the subject of the question, is not what is implied by Pravritti dharma or by Nivritti as used in the previous section. 943. The second line of this verse corresponds with the second line of verse 87 of Chapter II of Manusmriti. 944. They are seen and not seen is an idiomatic expression for 'becoming invisible.' 945. i.e., kine do not yield copious and sweet milk; the soil ceases to be fertile; water ceases to be sweet; and the medicinal and edible herbs lose their virtues of healing as also their flavour. 946. The commentator thinks that Swadharmasthah is connected with asramah in the first line. I prefer the more obvious construction. 947. Varshati means pushnati. Angani means the observances necessary for the practice of Yoga as also all kinds of rites and vows. The Vedas cause these to grow, and they, in their turn, aid all students of the Vedas in achieving their purposes. 948. Prabhavah is uttpattih, or origin; sthanam is poshanam. Both the Vernacular translators skip over the last word, thinking that prabhavasthanam, is one word. The commentator notices them as separate. In the beginning of the second line, yatra is understood, Swabhavena, is explained by the commentator as Brahmabhavena, natu vikritena rupena. I think the explanation is correct, and have adopted it accordingly in the text. 949. Yatha in the first line of verse means, as the commentator explains, yat prakarakam. 950. The commentator points out that by these four words the four modes of life are indicated. 951. The commentator explains that this means that amongst embodied creatures they that are ignorant take those great entities which are really non-ego for either the ego or its Possessions. 952. The commentator explains that the object of this verse is to show that the Yoga view of the Soul being only the enjoyer but not the actor, is not correct. On the other hand, the Sankhya view of the Soul being neither the enjoyer nor the actor, is true. The deities, remaining in the several senses, act and enjoy. It is through ignorance that the Soul ascribes to itself their enjoyments and their actions. 953. I render Bhutatma by knowledge, following the commentator who uses the words buddhyupadhirjivah for explaining it. 954. Niyama and Visarga are explained by the commentator as 'destruction' and 'creation.' I prefer to take them as meaning 'guiding or restraining,' and 'employing.' Practically, the explanations are identical. 955. What is meant by the objects of the senses residing within the bodies of living creatures is that (as the commentator explains) their concepts exist in 'the cavity of the heart' (probably, mind) so that when necessary or called for, they appear (before the mind's eye). Swabhava is explained as 'attributes' like heat and cold, etc. 956. This is a very difficult verse. I have rendered it, following Nilakantha's gloss. In verse the speaker lays down what entities dwell in the body. In the rest he expounds the nature of Sattwa which the commentator takes to mean buddhi or knowledge. He begins with the statement that Sattwasya asrayah nasti. This does not mean that the knowledge has no refuge, for that would be absurd, but it means that the asraya of the knowledge, i.e., that in which the knowledge dwells, viz., the body, does not exist, the true doctrine being that the body has no real existence but that it exists like to its image in a dream. The body being non-existent, what then is the real refuge of the knowledge? The speaker answers it by saying Gunah, implying that primeval Prakriti characterised by the three attributes is that real refuge. Then it is said that Chetana (by which is implied the Soul here) is not the refuge of the knowledge for the Soul is dissociated from everything and incapable of transformation of any kind. The question is then mentally stated,--May not the Gunas be the qualities of the knowledge (instead of being, as said above, its refuge)? For dispelling this doubt, it is stated that Sattwa is the product of Tejas (Desire). The Gunas are _not_ the product of Tejas. Hence the Gunas, which have a different origin cannot be the properties of Sattwa. The Gunas exist independently of Desire. Thus the knowledge, which has Desire for its originating cause, rests on the Gunas or has them for its refuge. In this verse, therefore, the nature of the body, the knowledge, and the Gunas, is expounded. The grammatical construction of the first line is exceedingly terse. 957. Such men behold Brahma in all things. Abhijanah is explained by the commentator as sishyakuladih. This seems to be the true meaning of the word here. 958. In rendering this word tatam (where it occurs in the Gita), it has been shown that to take it as equivalent to 'spread' is incorrect. In such connections, it is evident that it means 'pervaded.' 959. If I have understood the gloss aright, this is what the first line of 21 means. Vedatma is explained as Vedic sound, i.e., the instructions inculcated in the Vedas. The word atma in the second clause means simply oneself or a person or individual. The sense then is this. The Vedas teach that all is one's soul. The extent to which one succeeds in realising this is the measure of one's attainment of Brahma. If one can realise it fully, one attains to Brahma fully. If partially, one's attainment of Brahma also is partial. 960. The track of such a person, it is said, is as invisible as the skies. The commentator explains that the very gods become stupefied in respect of the object which such a man seeks, the object, of course, being Brahma. 961. That, of course, in which Time is cooked, is Brahma. 962. By this the speaker says that Brahma is not to be found in any particular spot however holy. 963. Because Brahma is infinite. 964. 'Niyatah' is explained by the commentator as achanchalah, and vasi as without the fault of upadhi. 'Hansati, i.e., gachechati ite,' hence gatimati. 965. The sense is that the Soul residing within the body is identical with the Supreme Soul, and men of wisdom only know it. 966. The construction is Hansoktancha yat aksharam tat (eva) kutastham aksharam, meaning that there is no difference between Jivatman and Paramatman. Both are identical. 967. Sattwena is explained as 'by intelligence or the knowledge.' 968. The construction, as explained by the commentator, is Brahma tejomayam sukram; yasya sukrasya sarvam idam tasyapi Brahma rasah. The last word means sarah. 969. Both the Vernacular translators have skipped over this line. The meaning is this: Brahma opened his eyes for becoming many, as the Srutis declare, and thereupon he became many. This, as the commentator explains, Ikshana-kartritvena sarvatmakatwam gatam, or by a glance Brahma became the Soul of all things mobile and immobile. 970. The commentator explains that Brahmanah padam means prakritim. He thinks, therefore, that the last clause of the second line means 'should seek to subdue prakriti which is the layasthanam of mahattattwa.' I prefer the obvious sense of the words. 971. Parimitam Kalam is explained by the commentator as equivalent to six months as the srutis declare. 972. These two verses set forth the Yoga ideal. By the practice of Yoga all these are capable of being acquired or attained. But then the Yogin who suffers himself to be led away by those valuable possessions is said to fall in hell, for the enjoyment of this kind is nothing but hell compared to the high object for which Yogins should strive. Pramoha, Brahma, and Avarta, are technical terms. Equality with the wind means speed of motion, power to disappear at will, and capacity to move through the skies. 973. A chaitya is a sacred or a large tree which stands firm on its roots and about which all round a platform of earth is raised. Vrikshagra means 'in the front of a tree,' probably implying 'under the shade of its spreading branches.' 974. The commentator explains that he should imitate the wind by becoming asangah, i.e., unattached to all things. Aniketah means without a house or fixed abode. 975. It is difficult to understand what is meant by Savda-Brahmativartate. I follow the commentator. 'Brahma as represented by sound, is, of course, Pranavah or Om, the mystic monosyllable standing for the trinity.' K.P. Singha, taking Savda-Brahma for an accusative, regards it as implying,--'such a man transcends all Vedic rites.' This is precisely the meaning attached to it by the commentator where it occurs in verse 7 of section 236 ante. 976. The inferior order here referred to is, of course, the Sudra order. The commentator points out that whereas only the three superior orders are regarded to be eligible for the study of Sankhya and for inculcation of such Srutis as Tattwamasi (That thou art), here Vyasa lays down that as regards the Yoga path, _all_ are eligible to betake themselves to it. 977. 'Fixed senses,' i.e., when the senses are fixed on the mind and the mind on the understanding. Ajaram is immutable or unchanging, or that in which there is no change for the worse (or for the better). By subtility is indicated the incapacity of being apprehended, and by mahattaram is meant infinity. 978. The anu anudrisya is explained as Guruvachanamanu. Thus seems to be the true meaning, otherwise avekshya would be pleonastic, abhutagatim is bhutasamplavaparyantam, i.e., till the destruction of all beings. Imam is sastraprasiddham. 979. The Vedas proclaim the efficacy of both acts and knowledge. Acts are not laid down for those that have knowledge. 980. Subhashita is explained by the commentator as ayam tu paramo dharma yat yogena atmadarsanam. 981. Na vartate does not mean annihilated but, as the commentator explains, aham asmi iti na jana atmanam. 982. Manasena karmana is explained by the commentator as sankalpena. 983. The meaning is this: the man of acts is like the new-born moon, i.e., subject to growth and decay. 984. This has been explained in a previous section. 985. The soul resides in the body without partaking of any of the attributes of the body. It is, therefore, likened to a drop of water on a lotus leaf, which, though on the leaf, is not yet attached to it, in so much that it may go off without at all soaking or drenching any part of the leaf. Yogajitatmakam is yogena jito niruddha atma chittam yena tam, as explained by the commentator. 986. Literally, 'Tamas and Rajas and Sattwa have the attribute of Jiva for their essence.' The particular attribute of Jiva here referred to is the Jnanamaya kosha. Jiva, again, is all accident of the Soul. The Soul comes from the Supreme Soul. Thus the chain of existence is traced to the Supreme Soul. In verse 20 again it is said that the body, which by itself is inanimate, when it exists with the Soul, is an accident of Jiva as uninvested with attributes. 987. I follow Nilakantha substantially in his interpretation of this verse. Two kinds of creation are here referred to as those of which Vyasa has spoken in the previous Sections. The first is Ksharat prabhriti yah sargah, meaning that creation which consists of the four and twenty entities commencing with Kshara or Prakriti. The other creation, consisting of the senses with their objects, represents buddhaiswarya or the puissance of the buddhi, these being all buddhikalpitah. This second creation is also atisargah which means, according to the commentator, utkrishtah and which is also pradhanah or foremost, the reason being bandhakatwam or its power to bind all individuals. I take atisargah to mean 'derivative creation,' the second kind of creation being derived from or based upon the other, or (as I have put it in the text) transcends or overlies the other. 988. It is explained in previous sections how the course of righteousness is regulated by the character of the particular Yuga that sets in. 989. Vyasa has already explained the character of the two apparently hostile declarations. The meaning of Suka's question, therefore, is that if two declarations are only apparently hostile,--if, as explained in the Gita, they are identical,--how is that identity to be clearly ascertained? The fact is, Suka wishes his sire to explain the topic more clearly. 990. The course of conduct of human beings,' i.e., the distinctions between right and wrong. Vimuktatma is taken by the commentator to imply tyaktadehah. The second line may also mean 'having cast off (by Yoga) the consciousness of body, I shall behold my own Soul.' 991. I do not follow the commentator in his interpretation of this line. 992. 'When the huts become smokeless,' i.e., when the cooking and the eating of the inmates are over. 'When the sound of the husking rod is hushed,' i.e., when the pestle for cleaning rice no longer works, and consequently when the inmates are not likely to be able to give much to the mendicant. 993. There is an apparent conflict between the two declarations. If both are authoritative, they cannot be regarded to be scriptural declarations in consequence of their conflict; if one is so and the other not so, the scriptural character of the latter at least is lost. The scriptures cannot but be certain and free from fault. How then (the question proceeds) is the scriptural character of both to be maintained? 994. The Burdwan translator makes a ridiculous blunder in rendering Jaghanyasayi, which he takes to mean 'sleeping on a wretched bed.' Jaghanya implies, here as elsewhere, subsequence in point of time. 995. Both the Vernacular translators have misunderstood the last part of the second line. It does not mean that the disciple should approach the preceptor when summoned, implying that he should be prompt to answer the summons, but that he should not disturb his Preceptor by clamouring for lessons or instruction. He should go to his preceptor for taking lessons only when his preceptor summons him for it. 996. Meaning, he should cast submissive or humble glances instead of staring boldly or rudely. 997. Learning was never sold in this country in ancient times. The final fee is not a return for the services of the preceptor but a token of gratitude from the pupil. Its value depended upon the ability of the disciple, though there are stories in the scriptures of disciples coming to grief on account of their persistent forwardness in pressing the acceptance of this fee. Vide the story of Galava in the Udyoga Parva. 998. The fourth kind of conduct, called kapoti is also called unchha. It consists of collecting such seeds of grain as have fallen down from the ears and as have been abandoned by the reapers. 999. Thus the second is more meritorious than the first, the third than the second, and the fourth than the third. The fourth or last, therefore, is the first in point of merit. 1000. It is said that the householder who cooks must give a share of the cooked food to a Brahmacharin or Yati or any one who comes as a guest. If he does not do it but eats the whole of what has been cooked, he is regarded as eating what belongs to a Brahmana. This, of course, is a high sin. 1001. The commentator supposes that these relatives and kinsmen are named because of the great likelihood there is of disputes arising with them on account of shares of inheritance. 1002. The sense is this: these various persons, if duly reverenced by the householder, are able to send the latter to the places indicated or make him comfortable in those places. 1003. Vide verses 2 and 3 of this Section. Of the four courses, the first or Kusaladhanya, is left out here. The three others, of course, are the Kumbhadhanya, the Aswastana (otherwise called Unchhasila), and the Kapoti. The Burdwan translator makes a blunder in enumerating the three kinds of domesticity here referred to. 1004. The Burdwan version of this verse is incorrect. 1005. The cow is a sacred animal and there is merit in feeding and properly tending a cow. Forest recluses kept kine for merit as also for homa or sacrifice with the ghee obtained from them. The story of Vasishtha's cow is well-known. 1006. These five are Agnihotra, Darsapurnamasi, Chaturmasya, Pasu sacrifice and Soma sacrifice. 1007. The Burdwan translator misunderstands the words abhravakasah. It is a well-known word occurring in almost every lexicon. Wilson explains it correctly. 1008. i.e., They do not use a regular husking or cleaning apparatus for cleaning the grain they use as food. 1009. So that very small portion of the grain comes out for drink or mixes with the water. 1010. i.e., who had no fixed residence and who never sought with any effort for the necessaries of life. The Burdwan translator takes both yathavasah and akritacramah for two independent names of Rishis instead of taking them as adjectives of Sudivatandi. 1011. i.e., whose wishes were immediately crowned with success, in respect of both blessings and curses, etc. 1012. Niranandah is explained as krichcchrachandrayanadiparatwat. 1013. Anakstrah is explained by the commentator as 'different from stars and planets but still freed from darkness' and, therefore, effulgent or luminous. Anadhrishyah is fearless. 1014. Atmayaji is explained as one who performs his own sraddha or obsequial rites. The Sandhi in the next word is arsha; atmakrida is one who does not take pleasure in wife or children but whose source of pleasure is his own self: Similarly, atmasraya is one who without depending upon kings or others takes refuge in himself. 1015. Such sacrifice, for example, as those called Brahma-yajna, etc. 1016. Yajinam yajna is the sacrifice of ordinary sacrifices, i.e., the usual sacrifices consisting of tangible offerings unto the deities, and performed with the aid of Vedic mantras. The ablative implies cause. Atmani ijya is sacrifice in Self, i.e., Yoga. The meaning of the first line, therefore, is when through performance of ordinary sacrifices and rites, the mind becomes pure and the sacrificer is enabled to practise yoga. Unto the three fires he should duly sacrifice on his own self, means, of course, that without any longer adoring his fires by visible rites and actual recitation of mantras, he should, for the sake of emancipation, worship in his own self or seek the extinction of mind and knowledge in Yoga. 1017. To this day every orthodox Brahmana or Kshatriya or Vaisya never eats without offering at the outset five small mouthfuls unto the five vital breaths, i.e., Prana, Apana, Samana, Udana, and Vyana. 1018. Vapya or Vapayitwa means causing or obtaining a shave. The Burdwan translator makes a blunder by supposing it to mean parivyapta. The Sannyasa mode of life, as well-known, can never be entered without a previous shave. K.P. Singha gives the correct version. 1019. It is difficult to render the word abhaya into English. 'To give abhaya to all creatures' is to pledge oneself to a life of total harmlessness, or to practise universal compassion or benevolence. Abstention from every kind of injury is the great duty of the fourth mode of life. 1020. The duties included in yama (as explained by the commentator) are universal benevolence, truthfulness, faith, Brahmacharya, and freedom from attachment. Those that are included in niyama are purity (of body and mind), contentment, study of the Vedas, meditation on the Supreme, etc. Swasastra sutra means the sutras of his own sastras--i.e., the duties laid down in respect of that Sannyasa which he has adopted; the chief of which is enquiry after the Soul or Self: Bhutimanta implies Vedic recitation and the sacred thread. He who has taken to Sannyasa should display energy in these, i.e., persistently enquire after the Soul and throw away all caste-marks, and other indications. 'The desirable end' is of course, gradual Emancipation of that obtained at once. Following the commentator, K.P. Singha gives the correct version. The Burdwan version, containing the very words of the gloss, is based upon a complete misconception of their meaning. 1021. The commentator correctly explains that by the first line of this verse, Vyasa answers his son's question. The two modes referred to are the first and the second, and not the second and the third as K.P. Singha in his vernacular version wrongly states. Having answered the question, the speaker (in the second line) proceeds to indicate the simple or straight path for reaching the highest object of men's endeavour, viz., Paramartham or Brahma. 1022. Bhava-samahitah is explained as chitta-samadhanavan. 1023. The skull is to be used as a drinking vessel. Kuchela, which I render 'rags', is supposed by the commentator to signify reddish or brown cloth which has, from age, lost its colour. 1024. Elephants, when hurled into a well, become utterly helpless and unable to come out. That person, therefore, into whom words enter like elephants into a well, is he who answers not the evil speeches of others. What is said here is that only a person of such forbearance should betake himself to mendicancy or Sannyasa. 1025. I have given a closely literal version of this verse. The commentator explains that first line refers to the person who deems himself to be everything and everything to be himself. The second line refers to the same individual who, by Yoga, can withdraw his senses and the mind and consequently make the most populous place appear as totally solitary or unoccupied. This is the Yoga process called Pratyahara and is described in section 233 ante. The Burdwan translator gives an incorrect version. K.P. Singha follows the commentator. 1026. Suhitya, whence sauhitya, means no satiety but the full measure of gratification from eating. The speaker wishes to lay down that a mendicant or renouncer should never take food to the full measure of gratification. He should eat without completely appeasing his hunger. 1027. I follow the commentator in his exposition of kaunjara which he derives as kun (earth or the body which is made of earth) jaravati iti kunjarah, i.e., a Yogin in Samadhi. The sense seems to be that the fruits of Yoga include or absorb the fruits of every other act. The rank and status of Indra himself is absorbed within what is attained to by Yoga. There is no kind of felicity that is not engulfed in the felicity of Emancipation, which Yoga alone can confer. 1028. The commentator thinks that by the 'one duty of abstention from injury' is implied the fourth mode of life or Sannyasa. What is said, therefore, is that the observance of the single duty of harmlessness includes that of every other duty; or, what amounts to the same thing, the fourth mode of life is singly capable of giving merit which all the others may give together. 1029. Haryartham means 'for the sake of Hari.' i.e., one who takes away merit, implying a disciple or attendant. Some texts read Ratyrtham, meaning 'for the happiness (of others).' 1030. Because all acts are fraught with injury to others. Whether 'acts' betaken in its general sense or in the particular sense of 'religious acts,' their character is such. 1031. Both the vernacular translators have completely misunderstood the second line of this Verse. The commentator correctly explains that Tikshnam tanum means the religion of injury, i.e., the religion of sacrifices and acts. 'So' for 'sa' is arsha; as also anantyam for anantyam which, of course, implies moksham or Emancipation. The commentator correctly supplies yatah after apnoti and shows that prajabhyah is equivalent to prajanam. The last clause of the second line, therefore, means sa moksham apnoti, yatah prajabhyah (or prajanam) abhayam. The dative, not ablative as the vernacular translators take it, is not bad grammar, although the genitive is more agreeable with usage. 1032. A tentative version is offered here, following the actual words used in the original. 1033. All these expressions apply to the Supreme Soul. Immeasurable in the firmament implies that the Supreme Being is vaster than the firmament. 'Made of gold' means, as the commentator explains, Chit having knowledge only for its attribute.' 'Born of the egg,' i.e., belonging to the universe. 'Within the egg' means 'capable of being apprehended in the heart.' 'Equipped with many feathers,' i.e., having many limbs each of which is presided over by a particular deity. The two wings are absence of attachment or complete dissociation from everything, and joy and gladness and aptitude for enjoyment. 'Rendered effulgent by many rays of light,' i.e., transformed into a living and active agent by means of eyes, cars, etc. 1034. The sense is that he who understands the wheel of Time is a person worthy of universal regard. The excellent joints of that wheel are the parva days, viz., those sacred lunations on which religious rites are performed. 1035. I give a little version of verse 33, following the commentator as regards the meaning of samprasadam. The sense, however, of the verse is this: Brahma, in the previous sections, has often been spoken of as Sushupti or the unconsciousness of dreamless slumber. The universe flows from Brahma. Unconsciousness, therefore, is the cause or origin or body of the universe. That unconsciousness, therefore, pervades all things, viz., gross and subtile. Jiva, finding a place within that unconsciousness existing in the form of gross and subtile, gratifies the deities, prana and the senses. These, thus gratified by jiva, at last gratify the open mouth of the original unconsciousness that waits to receive or swallow them. All these verses are based upon the figurative ideas that find expression in the Upanishads. 1036. Smriti is memory. One whose smriti is lost means one whose conceptions of right and wrong are confounded. Atmanah sampradanena is 'by the surrender of oneself' to one's own passions or Kamadibhyah as the commentator explains. 1037. Chittam is explained by the commentator as the gross understanding, and Sattwa as the subtile understanding. The understanding that is concerned with the images brought by the mind or the senses is called gross; while that which is concerned with ideas about Brahma is called subtile. Kalanjara is explained by the commentator either as standing for the mountain of that name, i.e., irremovable as the mountain so called; or, as one who destroys the effect of Time, i.e., one who subdues Time instead of being subdued by that universal conqueror. 1038. The purification here referred to consists in transcending the consciousness of duality. Righteousness should be avoided because of its incapacity to lead to Emancipation which is much higher than heaven. Atmani sthitwa means living in one's real or true nature, i.e., merging everything into the Soul. This is attained when the consciousness of duality is transcended. 1039. Atmanam in the first line is the Jiva-soul, and atmani is the Supreme Soul. In the second line also, the same distinction is observed between the two words. 1040. Brahmanas, who having completed the study of the Vedas have betaken themselves to the domestic mode of life, are so called. Here, probably, the reference is to persons having faith in the Vedas and of pure conduct. 1041. Adhyatma is topic bearing on the Soul. Here it signifies the seven and twenty usual topics of philosophical discourse, viz., the five organs of action, the five organs of knowledge, the mind and three others called Chitta, etc., the five vital breaths, the five elementary substances, Desire. Acts, and Avidya. 1042. The second clause of the second line is explained by the commentator as yasmin kamani nimitte sati yat anupasyati. 1043. The grammatical construction is Gunebhyah paramagatah gunan na ativartante. The meaning is this: Mind, Understanding, and Nature (or individual disposition of man or animal or vegetable, etc) are all due to their own previous states. Nature in particular being the result of the desires of a past state of existence. Such being their origin, they too are due to the five entities named. As regards their functions, it is said that having reached to that which is Gunebhyah parama, i.e., Srotradikaryam swarupam, they do not transcend the gunas themselves; or in other words having become endued with the faculty or power of seizing particular attributes (such as scent, form, etc)., they actually seize or apprehend them. 1044. In other words, the senses and the mind are nothing but the understanding displayed in a particular shape or form. The principal function of the mind is to cherish and discard impressions. The understanding is nischayatmika or engaged in arriving at certainty of conclusions. 1045. Everything above the soles of the feet and below the crown of the head, is, of course, the whole body or self or the person. Asmin kritye is, aham iti yat darsanam tasmin karaniye. There can be no doubt that the commentator correctly explains the meaning. 1046. Neniyate is as the commentator explains, an instance of karmakartari prayogah. Hence, the meaning is that both the attributes of form etc., and the senses with mind which apprehend those attributes, are the understanding itself, so that when the understanding is not, these also are not. The object of this verse is to establish the identity of the understanding with the senses, the mind, and the attribute with the senses and the mind apprehend. Both the vernacular versions are inaccurate. 1047. The three attributes of Rajas, Tamas, and Sattwa do not spring from any different thing but from their own counterparts existing in a previous state of existence or life. They arise from their respective states as they existed with the Chitta or understanding in a previous life. Hence Chitta, and the objects of the senses and the senses also arising from it, are all affected by these three Gunas. 1048. The last word in the first line is not prabodhita but aprabodhita. 1049. In the original, the word atman is used in various senses. Sometimes it stands for the Jiva-soul, sometimes for the Supreme Soul, sometimes for essence or the principal portion of anything, sometimes for one's own self, and sometimes even for the person or body. It is not difficult to distinguish in which sense the word is used in what place. 1050. Vela is tide or current. The Understanding, although it exists with the three states of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas, can yet transcend them by Yoga. The ordinary and extraordinary states of the understanding are spoken of in this verse. 1051. The Bengal texts make this a verse of one line. In the Bombay text, verse 9 is made a triplet, so that this line is included in it. Medhyani is explained as medha, rupadi jnanam, tatra tani. 1052. If I have understood this verse correctly, the theory of perception laid down is a sort of idealism which has not, perhaps, its counterpart in European metaphysics. The senses are first said to be only modifications of the understanding. The mind also is only a modification of the same. A particular sense, say the eye, becomes subservient to the understanding at a particular moment. As soon as this happens, the understanding, though in reality it is only the eye, becomes united with the eye, and entering the mind raises an image there, the consequence of which is that that image is said to be seen. External world there is, of course, as independent of mind and understanding. That which is called a tree is only an idea or image created in the mind by the understanding with the aid of the sense of vision. 1053. The speaker here combats the theory that the qualities of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas inhere to the objects themselves of the senses. His own view is that they inhere to the Mind, the Understanding, and Consciousness. The qualities may be seen to exist with objects, but in reality they follow objects in consequence of their permanent connection with the mind, the understanding, and consciousness which have agency in the production of objects. The commentator cites the instance of a wife's beautiful and symmetrical limbs. These excite pleasure in the husband, envy in a co-wife, and desire (mixed with pain at its not being gratified) in a weak-hearted gazer. All the while the limbs remain unchanged. Then again, the husband is not always pleased with them, nor is the co-wife always filled with envy at their sight, nor is the gazer always agitated. Like the spokes of a wheel which are attached to the circumference and which move with circumference, the qualities of Sattwa, etc., attached to the mind, understanding and consciousness, move along with them, i.e., follow those objects in the production of which the mind, etc., are causes. 1054. This version of verse is offered tentatively. I give the substance without following the exact order of the original. Compare this verse with 42 of section 194 ante. 1055. As soon as the darkness of the understanding is dispelled and true knowledge succeeds, the Soul becomes visible. 1056. i.e., who adopts the Sannyasa or the last mode of life after having duly gone through the preceding modes. 1057. Gunan in the first line means Vishayan, in the second line it means Sattivadin, Vikriyatah is vikram bhajamanan. How the understanding creates objects has been explained in previous sections. 1058. Na nivartante is explained by the commentator as na ghatadivat nasyanti kintu rajjuragadiva badha eva, etc., and he concludes by saying that according to this theory niranvayanasa eva gunanam, or, in other words, that the Gunas are not so destroyed by knowledge that they do not return. 1059. According to the speaker then, there is not much practical difference between the two opinions here adverted to, and one's course of conduct will not be much affected by either of the theories that one may, after reflection, adopt. 1060. Janmasamartham is explained as certain to be acquired by virtue of birth or of the practice of the duties laid down for one's own order. Parayanam is moksha-prapakam. 1061. The Bengal reading buddhah is preferable to the Bombay reading Suddhah which would be pleonastic in view of what follows in the second line. 1062. Lokam is explained as lokyate iti lokah, i.e., objects of enjoyment such as wife, etc., aturam, is afflicted with faults or defects. Ubhayam kritakritam is as the commentator explains, sokasokarupam or aropitam and anaropitam. 1063. Many of the verses of this and the previous section correspond with those of section 194 ante. Many verbal changes, however, are noticeable. In consequences of those changes, the meaning sometimes becomes lightly and sometimes materially different. 1064. Gocharaebhyah, literally, pastures, is used here to signify all external and internal objects upon which the senses and the mind are employed. Their proper home or abode is said to be Brahma. 1065. The absence of anything like precision in the language employed in such verses frequently causes confusion. The word atma as used in the first line is very indefinite. The commentator thinks it implies achetanabuddhi, i.e., the perishable understanding. I prefer, however, to take it as employed in the sense of Chit as modified by birth. It comes, I think, to the same thing in the end. The 'inner Soul' is, perhaps, the Soul or Chit as unmodified by birth and attributes. 1066. Abhavapratipattyartham is explained by the commentator as 'for the attainment of the unborn or the soul.' 1067. The commentator explains the first line thus: yatha sarvani matani tatha etani vachansi me. He takes the words: yatha tatha kathitani maya as implying that 'I have treated of the topic yathatathyena.' 1068. The commentator explains that tasya tasya has reference to gandhadeh. Pracharah means vyavahara. Pasyatah is Vidushah. 1069. i.e., one that only knows the Vedas and has observed the vow of Brahmacharya is not a superior Brahmana. To become so requires something more. 1070. I follow the commentator closely in rendering this verse. Sarvavit is taken in the sense of Brahmavit. Akamah is one contented with knowledge of Self. Such a man, the Srutis declare, never dies or perishes. The two negatives in the last clause nullify each other. The Burdwan translator, with the gloss before him, for he cites copiously from it, misunderstands the negatives. K.P. Singha is correct. 1071. Avidhanat is explained as dayanaishkainyayorananusaranat. 1072. Kamakantah is explained as kamaih kantah, i.e., manoharah. 1073. Heaven is Brahma invested with attributes. Tranquillity of soul is Brahma uninvested with attributes. Upanishat is explained as rahasyam. This renders 'recondite object'. The sense of the verse is that each of the things mentioned is useless without that which comes next; and as tranquillity or Brahma uninvested with attributes is the ultimate end, the Vedas and truth, etc., are valuable only because they lead to tranquillity. 1074. Both the Vernacular translators have rendered this verse wrongly. In the first place, ichcchasi is equivalent to ichccheta. Santoshat is for the sake of santosha. Sattwam is buddhiprasadam. Manas is explained as sankalpa or samsaya. The grammatical order is sokamanasoh santapya kledanam. The commentator adds santapamiti namulantam, i.e., formed by the suffix namul. 1075. Samagrah is literally 'full or complete,' implying that such a man becomes jnana-triptah. Only five attributes are mentioned in this verse but santosha mentioned in verse 13 should be taken to make up six. 1076. Both the vernacular translators have rendered this verse incorrectly. In the first place shadbhih has reference to the six things mentioned in verse 11 and 12 above. These six again should be satwagunopetaih, i.e., destitute of the attributes of Rajas and Tamas. Unless freed from those two, even the six, of themselves, will not lead to knowledge of the Soul. Tribhih has reference to Sravana, manana, and nididhyasana. Ihastham is 'residing within the body.' Pretya implies transcending consciousness of body or jivati eva dehe dehabhimanadutthaya. Tam gunam is muktalakshanam. The sense, in simple words, is this: transcending all consciousness of body they that succeed in knowing the Soul which resides within the body become emancipated. The first line of the verse simply points out how the Soul may be known. 1077. Anweti is explained as vardhate. 1078. The reading I adopt is saviseshani, and not aviseshani although the latter is not incorrect. In treatises on yoga, viseshah imply the gross elements and the eleven senses including the mind. Aviseshah imply the five subtile elements (tanmatrani) and buddhi. By Gunan is meant Mahat and Avyakta or Prakriti. If aviseshani be taken, the reference to the subtile elements would imply that the grosser once have already been transcended. 1079. Atikrantaguna-kshayam, i.e., one who has transcended disregards the very puissance that the destruction of the gunas is said to bring about. 1080. Karyyatam is Prakriti which alone is active, Purusha being inactive. Paramam karanam is, of course, Brahma uninvested with attributes. 1081. Dwandwani is governed by anushthitah. Mahat here is elaborate. The speaker, having first discussed the subject elaborately, intends to speak of it in brief in this Section. 1082. Panchasu is explained by the commentator as Panchatmakeshu. Hence, he properly points out that bhava and abhava and kala are included by the speaker within bhutas or primary elements. Bhava implies the four entities called karma, samanya, visesha and samavaya. By abhava is meant a negative state with respect to attributes not possessed by a thing. We cannot think of a thing without thinking of it as uninvested with certain attributes whatever other attributes it may possess. 1083. Enlarged, the constructions of the original becomes thus: 'uttareshu (bhuteshu) (purvabhuta) gunah (santi).' 1084. Uttarah imply the three entities known by the names of Avidya (Ignorance), Kama (desire), and Karma (acts). This part of the verse is skipped over by the vernacular translators. 1085. i.e., the soul when invested with Avidya and desire becomes a living creature and engages in acts. It is through consequences then that are derived from acts that the infinite Soul (or Chit) becomes Jivatman. 1086. This is a very difficult verse and no wonder that both the vernacular versions are defective. K.P. Singha gives the substance, skipping over many of the words. The Burdwan translator, though citing largely from the gloss, misunderstands both verse and gloss completely. The grammatical construction is this: Ebhih sarvaih kalatmakaih bhavaih anwitam sarvam yah akalushiam pasyati (sah) samoham karma nanuvartate. Sarvam here refers to pranijatam or the entire assemblage of living creatures. Kalatmakaih bhavaih is punyapapadi samskaratmabhih. Bhavaih is taken by the commentator as equivalent to bhavanabhih. I prefer to take it in the sense of entity. He who looks upon these as akalusham, i.e., as unstained Chit (that is, he who has a knowledge of the Soul), becomes freed from samoham karma, i.e., succeeds in becoming nishkamah in consequence of his acquaintance with atmatattwa. 1087. 'Conversant with the scriptures,' i.e., Yogin; 'acts laid down in the scriptures' are the practices connected with Yoga. Saririnam, the commentator takes, implies the Soul as invested with a subtile body; of course, Saririn as distinguished from Sariram generally means the Soul or the owner of the Sariram without reference to the body. Hence, the word cannot be taken as referring to the Soul as uninvested with the lingasarira. 1088. I follow the commentator in his exposition of this verse. Sahitah is nividah; drisyamanah is explained as 'though unseen by the eye is yet realised through instruction and by the aid of reason.' 1089. Tapah is rasmi-mandalam. Prati-rupam is pratyupa-dhi. Sattwam is sattwapradhanalingam. The sense, in simple words, seems to be that the Yogin beholds within his own body and those of others the Souls or Chits residing there as invested in subtile forms. 1090. Both atmachintitam and karmajam rajas are governed by Jahatam. The first means all that is: 'kalpitah in self' i.e., the creations of the understanding or the mind, implying, of course, the objects of the senses or the external world. The second means kamadi vyasanam, i.e., the calamities constituted by desire, etc. Pradhanadwaidhamuktah is one who is freed from identity with Pradhana or the Universal cause; hence, the puissance that Yoga brings about. Such Yogins have their subtile forms under complete control under all conditions and at all times. They can enter at will into other forms. Sattwatma is linga-dehah. 1091. Satatam qualifies anwitah. Nityam qualifies charishnuh. Sadanityah is explained by the commentator as in reality terminable, though the words always etc., have been used. The plain meaning of the verse is that Yogins, in their linga body, rove everywhere, not excluding the most blissful regions in heaven itself. 1092. The meaning is this: like Yogins, ordinary men even have the linga-sariram. In dreams, the gross body is inactive. Only the subtile body acts and feels. The Burdwan translator misunderstands this verse completely. 1093. Atikramanti is understood at the end of the verse. Vajropamani is explained by the commentator as 'so undying that they are not destroyed at even the universal destruction; hence, of course, the karana bodies.' The karana bodies are the potentialities, existing in the tanmatra of the elemental substances, of forming diverse kinds of linga bodies in consequence of the acts of Jiva in previous periods of existence. 1094. Etat is: maduktam vakyam; yogam implies yogapradhanam. Samadhau samam has reference to 'yogam.' What the speaker wishes to say in this verse is that dhyana is not laid down for Sannyasins alone but it is laid down for all others as well. 1095. Pradhanam is Avidya or Ignorance. Viniyoga is Viparinama. The particle anu always interpreted as 'following' the scriptures or some special branch of knowledge that treats of the subject spoken of. 1096. The correct reading is ayasaih meaning 'made of iron,' and not 'ayasaih.' K.P. Singha adheres to the incorrect reading. The chains of iron here are either the diverse longings cherished by worldly men, or, perhaps, the bodies with which men are invested. 1097. The dual genitive duhkhayoh is used because worldly sukha also is regarded as duhkha. 'Tyajamannah' is equivalent to 'tyaktum ichccha.' It is an instance of hetau sanach. 1098. Yena is explained as Stryadina hetuna. 'Sah' is Stryadih. Samrohati is Vardhayati. 'Tam' is Vardhakam. 1099. 'Uddhriyate' is literally 'tears up.' The use of the word 'asina' suggests also 'cutting.' The root of the tree, of course, is Avidya or Ignorance. 1100. K.P. Singha wrongly translates the first line. The Burdwan translator quotes the gloss without understanding it. The first half of the first line, literally rendered, is 'the senses are the mind-citizens,' meaning, as the commentator rightly explains, that they are citizens under the lead of the mind. 'Tadartham' means 'for the sake of the senses,' i.e., 'for cherishing them.' Prakritih is mahati kriya pravrittih, Tadartham is kriyaphalam, i.e., happiness or misery. The meaning, in brief, is this: the body is a city. The understanding is its mistress. The mind is her principal servitor. The senses are the citizens under the lead of the mind. In order to cherish the senses the mind engages in acts productive of visible and invisible fruits i.e., sacrifices and gifts, and the acquisition of houses and gardens, etc. Those acts are liable to two faults, viz., Rajas and Tamas. The senses (both in this life and the succeeding ones) depend upon the fruits (happiness or misery) of those acts. 1101. The meaning is this: the senses, the mind, the understanding, etc., are all due to acts. These, therefore, are said to rest upon acts and draw their sustenance therefrom. 1102. I expand the first line of 14 for giving the meaning clearly. 1103. The sense is that the understanding, being stained or afflicted, the Soul also becomes stained or afflicted. Enam is atmanam. Vidhritam is 'placed like an image upon a mirror.' 1104. Because the son had not yet obtained the light of full knowledge. 1105. It is curious to note how carelessly this verse is rendered in the Burdwan version. In the Bengal texts there is a misprint, viz., tatha for rasah. The Burdwan translator does not notice it, but gives just eight qualities instead of ten. Capacity to be congealed is to be inferred from cha. K.P. Singha is correct. 1106. The Rishis, it is evident, regarded an entity not as an unknown substance in which certain known properties inhered, but as the sum total of those properties themselves. So far as the human mind is concerned, there is no warrant for the proposition that matter is an unknown substance in which extension, and divisibility etc., inhere; on the other hand, matter, as it appears to us, is only extension, divisibility, etc., existing in a combined state. 1107. The elements are five in number. Their properties number fifty. The five especial properties of the understanding should be added to those five and fifty. The total, therefore, of the properties of the understanding comes up to sixty. 1108. This is a difficult verse. Anagatam is agama-viruddham. The grammatical construction, as explained by the commentator, is this: tat (tasmin or purvaslokokokte vishaya yat) anagatam tava uktam tat chintakalilam. (Twam tu) samprati iha (loke) tat (maduktam) bhutarthatattwamsarvam avapya bhuta-prabhavat santabuddhi bhava. Bhutarthah is Brahma, and bhutaprabhavat is Brahmaiswaryat. (This is an instance of the ablative with 'lyap' understood). What Bhishma wishes Yudhishthira to do is not so much to attend to the various theories about the origin of the universe but to carefully attend to the method of attaining to Brahma. To be of tranquil heart, of course, implies the possession of a nirvrittika buddhi. 1109. i.e., they could be slain by only their equals who were engaged with them, meaning that all those warriors were very superior men. They could not possibly be slain by others than those with whom they fought. 1110. In the case of gods and Rishis, thinking and summoning are the same. 1111. The commentator explains that the accusatives in the first line of verse 5 governed by hareyam in the previous verse. 1112. A Padmaka consists of ten digits, i.e., a thousand millions or a billion according to the French method of calculation. 1113. To lead a life in the woods with the deer and after the manner of the deer confers great merit. Vide the story of Yayati's daughter Madhavi in the Udyoga Parvam ante. 1114. The commentator explains that this means that Death would attain to the status of all-pervading Brahma. Even this is the boon that the Self-born grants her for protecting her against iniquity and allaying her fears. 1115. i.e., being freed from wrath and aversion. 1116. Vasishtha's work commences with the query--What is dharmah? The first answer is 'anything consistent with the Srutis and the Smritis.' Then comes Sishtacharah or the conduct of those called Sishta or the good. 1117. However casuists may argue and moralists pretend, a lie like that of Sir Henry Lee for saving his prince from the hands of Cromwell (vide Woodstock), or like that of the goldsmith's son, even when he was dying, for saving the prince Chevalier from the hands of his would-be captors, is excusable in the estimation of many and even meritorious according to some. The world again is agreed that if an adulterer be called into the witness box, perjury would be a venal offence compared with the meanness of betraying the honour of a confiding woman. Hence, the exclusion of such a witness (according to almost every system of law) in trials for adultery. The Rishis wrote for men and not angels. The conduct referred to is that of the good and pious. 1118. In explaining verse 7, the commentator uses the words that I have enclosed within parenthesis. According to him, verse 9 hath reference to the robbed thief while he goes to the king for invoking justice. 1119. There is another reason why one should not give way to intoxication of might and should not set at naught the eternal injunction against taking what belongs to another. K.P. Singha incorrectly translates this line. 1120. Implying that such a man is always alive to his own faults. He never thinks that others are guilty of an offence which he, in a moment of temptation, may have committed. 1121. K.P. Singha wrongly translates this line. 1122. The construction is not at all difficult; yet both the vernacular translators have misunderstood it, the Burdwan version being thoroughly unintelligible. This is only another form of the well-known saying--'do to others as you would that they should do to you.' 1123. The Burdwan translator gives an incorrect version of the second line: yad is equivalent to yadi: anyasya stands for anyam. The genitive inflection is used for the accusative. Tatah stands for tasmin implying aupapatye vishaye. Kuryat is driggochari-kuryat. 1124. The surplus should not be coveted for its own sake but for such use. 1125. The second line is incorrectly rendered by K.P. Singha. 1126. Priyabhyupagatam is priyena praptam and not hinsaya. 1127. I am not sure that I have understood the original correctly. Nilakantha says that the sense intended to be conveyed is that Yudhishthira finds fault with Bhishma's previous course on the indications of righteousness. 1128. The argument, as explained by the commentator is this: Bhishma has said that righteousness and its reverse arise from one's acts producing happiness or misery to others, and that they both affect one's future life in respect to the happiness and misery enjoyed or endured therein. But living creatures, says Yudhishthira, are seen to take their births, exist, and die, of their own nature. Nature, therefore, seems to be the efficient cause of birth, existence, and death, and not the declarations in the Srutis, consistent though those declarations be with considerations of felicity or the reverse. The study of the Vedas, therefore, cannot alone lead to a knowledge of righteousness and its reverse. 1129. Distress may be of infinite variety. Derogation also from duty may, therefore, be of infinite variety. It is impossible to note these derogations (justifiable in view of the degree of distress felt) in any code of morals, however comprehensive. 1130. The commentator cites the example of Sudras listening to forbidden scriptures in expectation of merit. They commit sin by such acts. Then again high Brahmanas like Agastya, by cursing the denizens of the Dandaka forest, achieved great merit. In persons universally called ordinary or even low, indications are observable of good behaviour, and in those acknowledged to be good and respectable, acts may be noticed that are not good. That therefore, which is called the conduct of the good is extremely unascertainable. 1131. The commentator cites the instance of the stoppage of the Horse-sacrifice in consequence of the interference of Indra with Janamejaya while the latter was bent upon celebrating one for the acquisition of merit. 1132. The vapoury edifices and forms seen in the distant sky are called Gandharva-nagara from the peculiar belief that they are cities or towns inhabited by the Gandharvas, a class of beings superior to men. They appear to the view only to disappear very soon. What the speaker wishes to say is that sacrifices and religious acts at first appear romantic and delightful in consequence of the fruits they hold forth, viz., heaven and felicity. But when they are examined by the light of philosophy, they disappear or shrink into nothingness, for as acts, they are transitory and their consequences too are of the same character. 1133. The object of this verse is to show that it is extremely difficult to ascertain who the good are whose conduct should be taken as the standard of righteousness. 1134. The commentator cites the instance of Drona and others of that class. These men must be regarded as Mahajanas and Sadhus, but how can their conduct be regarded as righteous? What Yudhishthira means to say is that the standards of righteousness or that by which a good man may be known, is difficult of ascertainment. 1135. The example of Viswamitra, Jamadagnya, and Vasishtha are cited by the commentator. The first won pre-eminence by his mastery over weapons. The second lost his character as a Brahmana by the profession of arms. The third lost nothing although he punished Viswamitra's insolence by using even carnal weapons. 1136. What Yudhishthira says here is that righteousness or virtue or duty does not depend upon the Srutis or the Smritis, nor upon considerations of happiness or misery. On the other hand, righteousness is arbitrary in respect of its standard, that being called righteous which was called so by the learned of ancient times. As regards happiness or misery, its cause is eternal nature. 1137. 'In this connection,' i.e., the subject of the true cause to which is to be ascribed the dispensation of happiness or its reverse. 1138. His gross body was within the water. Nevertheless, by Yoga power, he was able to rove over the world in his subtile body and beheld everything he wished to see. 1139. Criya is explained by the commentator as implying the possession of Vedic lore. 1140. This was a new vow that Jajali began to observe, the vow, viz., of travelling over the entire earth, sleeping there where evening overtook him. 1141. A Beniya's shop is a miscellaneous depot. It contains chiefly spices and drugs, but there is no article for domestic use that may not be found in such a shop. 1142. Bhandajivanah is one who lays out capital and lives upon its profits. 1143. Charin is sancharanam for food. 1144. In some of the Bengal texts, verse consists of 3 lines. The 3rd line, however, is omitted in the Bombay edition. 1145. The commentator observes that in the second line the speaker explains what morality with its mysteries is. 1146. Padmaka or Padma-kashta is the rootstock of Nymphoea lotus. A kind of medicinal wood also is indicated by it, which is brought from Malwa and Southern India. To this day, it enters into the composition of many drugs used by Hindu Physicians. Tunga is either the filaments of the lotus, or the tree called Punnaga which is identified with the Calophyllum inophyllum of the Linnean genera. The Bombay reading parichcchinnaih for parachcchinnaih does not seem to be correct. 1147. In the Bengal editions, verse consists of one line. In the Bombay text, it is included with the 10th verse which is made a triplet. The meaning is that weighing creatures I regard all of them as equal. In my scales a Brahmana does not weigh heavier than a Chandala, or an elephant heavier than a dog or cat. 1148. The sense is this: there is variety in this world. It is, however, like the variety of aspects which the sky shows. It is the same Godhead that manifests itself in diverse forms even as it is the same sky that puts forth various aspects in consequence of the appearance and disappearance of clouds. 1149. Devairapihita-dwarah means persons whose doors (senses) have been closed by the deities, i.e., men with senses that are defective or lost. 1150. That state is Brahma, and there is no fear of return from it. Hence, it is called abhayam padam. 1151. The commentator explains that the mention of putra-pautrinam indicates that kulachara or family practices (if not very cruel) are authoritative. 1152. The correct reading seems to be vimuchyate.--The sense is this: there is an eternal course of righteousness as laid down in the Vedas. That which is called the conduct of the good may sometimes be stained by some errors. Fools, led by this, give up righteousness itself. On the other hand, wise men, avoiding those errors, take what is good and are saved. An old saying is cited by the commentator to the effect that when all is threatened, a wise man gives up half for saving the remainder. A fool, however, gives up the whole when only half is threatened with destruction. 1153. The word iha in verse is the only indication of the speaker's desire to allude to the union of relatives in this world. 1154. K.P. Singha quietly omits the second half of the second line. The Burdwan translator, as usual, blunders in rendering it. The fact is, krosatah is not an adjective of vrikat, but stands for the roaring Vadava fire. The commentator distinctly mentions drishtante Vadavagnih. 1155. Both the Vernacular translators have misunderstood this verse. 1156. Alpahrillekhah is explained by the commentator as alpam vahyasukham hridilekheva pratishthitam yesham; hence, men who seek ordinary felicity, viz., that which has a termination. The patavah are of course, the truly wise, i.e., those that seek felicity that is unending. Kritsna is Brahma; tadartham abhayadanamitinirnaya yesham, i.e., the truly wise practice it for the sake of Brahma. It is almost impossible to understand verses such as these without the aid of the commentator. 1157. Padashinah has reference to Devah. The sandhi in Devapi is arsha. The deities become stupefied in his _track_, i.e., fail to see or find it out, for such a man is apadah, i.e., transcends the highest regions of felicity, such as even the region of Brahman, because of their non-eternity. Such a man attains to Brahma, which is infinite and eternal. 1158. Bhuta is explained by the commentator as Brahma, and Bhavya, as heaven or the regions of felicity in the next world. In the Vedas both kinds of duties occur, such as Samah, etc., for Brahma, and sacrifices, &c., for heaven. 1159. The commentator cites some conflicting ordinances about the slaughter of kine. The subject of duty, is thus confused, contradictory declarations being noticeable in the Vedas. 1160. Badha here means striking or beating. If taken in the sense of 'death' the meaning would be putting some to death so that others may be frightened. These verses are a noble protest against the institution of slavery. 1161. Some texts read Prishadhro-gamlavanniva, meaning Prishadhara perpetrated a great sin by killing a cow (mistaking it for a tiger, as the story goes). 1162. The cow is called the mother because of the use to which she is subservient. Her milk nourishes every infant as much as the mother's bosom. The bull, again, is Prajapati, because like Prajapati he creates offspring and assists man in the production of food. 1163. Nahusha had killed a cow and a bull for honouring the Rishis. The latter, however, expressed their dissatisfaction at the act, and cleansed him of the sin in the manner indicated in the text. The commentator cites the instance of how Indra was cleansed of the sin of Brahmanicide. The Rishis, in compassion, distributed the sin among all beings of the feminine sex. That sin manifests itself in their periodical flows and the consequent impurity. 1164. The commentator explains that the Rishis addressed Nahusha in that style even when they knew that he had not intentionally slain the cow and the bull. The object of the speaker is to show the enormity of the act when done intentionally. 1165. The fact is, all Sacrifices, in which injury is done to animal and vegetable life are Sacrifices for Kshatriyas. The only Sacrifice that Brahmanas should perform is Yoga. 1166. Sacrifices are always attractive for the fame they bring. Their performance depends upon wealth. The acquisition of wealth leads to the commission of many evil acts. 1167. The sense is that in former days when the true meaning of Sacrifice was understood and all men performed them without being urged by the desire of fruit, the beneficial consequences that flowed were the production of crops without tillage (and without injury to animals that live in holes and burrows). The good wishes the Rishis cherished for all creatures were sufficient to produce herbs and plants and trees. May not this be taken as an indication of the traditional idea of the happiness of Eden before the fall of man? 1168. 'Bereft of wisdom' is explained by the commentator as implying the non-attainment of emancipation. 1169. This verse is exceedingly terse and condensed. In the second line, the words Brahmana vartate loke, literally rendered, mean 'who believes that only Brahma exists in the world.' The commentator takes these words as implying 'who regards every essential of Sacrifice as Brahma.' Although I have followed the commentator, yet I think his interpretation to be rather far-fetched. Why may not the words be taken in a literal sense? He who takes Brahma to be all things and all things to be Brahma, becomes sinless and deserves to be called a Brahmana. The last word of the second tine simply means 'who does not regard his own self as the actor.' The view expressed in the Gita is that we should do all acts believing ourselves to be only agents or instruments of the Supreme deity. Acts are His, we are only His tools. Such a conviction is sure to guard us against all evil acts. 1170. What is said in verse 17 is that when Sacrifices are done from a sense of duty, notwithstanding their incompleteness, they become efficacious. It is only when they are performed from desire of fruit that expiation becomes necessary if their completion be obstructed by any cause. Having thus applauded the Sacrifices (represented by acts) of the truly wise, other kinds of Sacrifices are indicated in verse 18. K.P. Singha translates 18 correctly. The Burdwan version is erroneous. 1171. Swayajna is literally 'sacrifice in one's own self'; hence, Yoga, Brahmam vedam is Pranava or Om. 1172. K.P. Singha erroneously translates this verse. The Burdwan version, so far as it goes, is correct. Sarvam Brahma is explained as Pranava, which is akhilam daivatam, for the Srutis declare that Omkarah sarvadaivatyah, Brahmani is Brahmavidi. What is intended to be said in this verse is that when such a man eats and is gratified, the whole universe becomes gratified. In the Vana Parvam, Krishna, by swallowing a particle of pottage gratified the hunger of thousands of Durvasa's pupils. 1173. Such a man regards all things as Brahma, and himself as Brahma. 1174. K.P. Singha blunders in rendering the second half of the first line. Yasah, the commentator explains, is Mahadyasah or Brahma. 'The path of the righteous,' the commentator thinks, is Yoga. 1175. i.e., they perform mental Sacrifices. 1176. 'For the reason,' i.e., because they cannot officiate at the Sacrifices of those that are truly good. In the second line (28 is a triplet), the nominative sadhavah is understood. The meaning is that such men, that is, the truly good, accomplish their own duties not for benefiting their own selves but for the good of others. What is said in the third line is that observing both kinds of behaviour, i.e., that of the good and that of the misguided, I follow the path of the former by abstaining from every kind of injury. 1177. Yajneshu is 'among Sacrifices.' Yani has reference to the different kinds of the Sacrifices, viz., those performed from desire of fruit and consequently productive of Return, and those not performed from desire of fruit and consequently leading to Emancipation. Tena stands for tena Yajnena. What the speaker wishes to lay down is that only a certain class of sacrificers succeed in attaining to an end whence there is no return. 1178. The sense seems to be that they perform mental Sacrifices, and not actual sacrifices after having created by Yoga-power all the necessary articles. 1179. The sin of slaughtering a cow will not touch such a person, his soul being above the influence of acts. 1180. i.e., I have for this reason spoken in praise of Renunciation and not that frame of mind in which one acts from desire of fruit. 1181. These are, of course, the indications of complete Renunciation. Such a man never bends his head to another and never flatters another, for he is above all want. 1182. Verse 35 is a triplet. In the first two lines the speaker says that one who does not accomplish the acts specified, fails to attain to a desirable end. In the last line, idam, refers to the duties of a true Brahmana or the indications of the Renunciation as laid down in verse 34. Daivatam kritwa, is explained by the commentator as Daivatamiva sevaniyam kritwa, Yajnam is Vishnu or Brahma as the Srutis declare. 1183. The Munis referred to in the first line are those mentioned in verse 31 above. They are the atmayajins or mental sacrificers. Kashtam is gahanam. Asya in the second line refers to the particular Yoga of those Munis. Lest the Yoga propounded by Tuladhara be regarded as altogether new, a circumstance that would detract from their merit, the commentator explains the words natah as preceded by Avekshamana api understood. 1184. Yasmin here is equivalent to Yadi, it being, as the commentator explains, Vibhaktipratirupakam avyayam. Eva is equivalent to Evam, meaning Twaduktaprakarena; atmatirtha means atmaiva tirtham or Yajnabhumistatra. Prapnuyat in the second line stands for prapnuyuh. The use of the singular for the plural is arsha. 1185. What is said here is this: the sacrifices of some men become lost through absence of faith. These men, it is plain, are not worthy of performing any kind of sacrifice internal or external. The performance of sacrifice, however, is easy. The cow and her products can minister to all sacrifices. In the case of those that are able, full libations of clarified butter, of milk, and of curds, are sufficient to enable them to perform whatever sacrifice they wish. As regards those that are poor, the dust of a cow's hoof and the water in which a cow's tail and horns have been washed, are quite sufficient to enable them to perform their sacrifices. Purnahuti should not, I think, be taken as different from clarified butter, etc. 1186. All these verses are exceedingly terse. Anena vidhina is the mode which the speaker himself advocates, viz., the performance of sacrifices without slaughter of animals. Niyojayan is an instance hetau satri. After prakaroti Sraddham is understood. Ishtam here means Yagam. Yajunam (as in verse 35 above) is Brahma. 1187. The soul is itself a tirtha. A tirtha, of course, is a spot containing sacred water. One should seek the acquisition of merit in the soul instead of going to places called sacred and lying in different parts of the earth. 'According to his own ability' means 'according to the best of his power.' If one can perform a sacrifice with clarified butter, one should not do it with the dust of a cow's hoofs. 1188. Dharmasya vachanat kila is explained by the commentator as Dharmasya ahinsatmakasya samvandhino vachanat. I think the words may also mean, 'obeying the voice of Dharma.' 1189. The two negatives in the second line amount to an affirmative assertion. 1190. Vaivaswati is 'appertaining to Vivaswat or prakasarapachidatma', hence 'Brahma-vishayini'. 'Daughter of Surya' means Sattwiki. Faith is vahirvangamanasi, i.e., is 'the outward form of speech and mind,' implying that it 'transcends (the merit born of) speech (recitation) and mind (meditation).' 1191. 'Defects of speech' are the incorrect utterance of mantras. 'Defects of mind' are such as listlessness, haste, etc. 1192. Kadarya is explained by the commentator as 'miserly.' I think it may be taken also in a more extended sense. Then again vardhushi is a usurer and not necessarily a dealer in corn. 1193. The commentator is entirely silent upon this verse. The two Bengali versions have proceeded in two different ways. The four classes of persons indicated in the previous verses are (1) he that is destitute of faith but is (outwardly) pure, (2) he that has faith but is not (outwardly) pure, (3) a miserly person possessed of learning, and (4) a usurer endued with liberality. The answer of Brahman, without touching other points, refers particularly to faith. The liberal man's food is sanctified by faith. The food of him that has no faith is lost. For this reason, the liberal man's food, even if he happens to be a usurer, is worthy of acceptance, and not so the food of the miser even though he may be possessed of Vedic lore. 1194. The commentator takes the word divam as implying hardakasam. They sported (not in the ordinary felicity of heaven but) in the puissance of Yoga. 1195. Gograhe is explained by the commentator as 'a sacrifice in which kine are slain.' Yajnavatasya is an instance of the genitive for the accusative. It means Yajnavatsthan nirdayan Brahmanan. The expression may also mean 'in the cow-pen within the sacrificial enclosure.' 1196. Avyaktaih is explained by the commentator as Yajnadi-dwaraiva khyatimichchhadbhih. 1197. Kamakara may also mean recklessness, Vahirvedyam is 'on the outer Vedi or altar.' The actual slaughter takes place on this vedi. The Burdwan translator misunderstands the word. 1198. Upasya, is explained by the commentator as 'living near an inhabited place.' Vedakritah Srutih are the fruits indicated in the Vedas of the acts laid down in them. Acharah has reference to the duties of the domestic mode of life. Acharah should be made anacharah, i.e., should not be followed. The Sannyasa mode of life is thus recommended. 1199. The meaning is this: ordinary men abstain from tainted meat, regarding all meat as tainted which is obtained from animals that are not killed in sacrifices and in course of religious acts. The speaker, however, holds that this practise is not worthy of applause, for all meat is tainted, including that of animals slain in sacrifices. K.P. Singha gives the sense correctly though his rendering is not literal. The Burdwan translator, misunderstanding text and commentary, jumbles them together and gives an incorrect rendering. 1200. Hence there is no need for sacrifices with slaughter of animals, and alcohol, etc. 1201. The sense is this: dangers are always seeking to destroy the body. The body is always seeking to destroy those destroyers. This perpetual war or struggle implies the desire to injure. How then, asks Yudhishthira, is it possible for any man to lead a perfectly harmless life, harm being implied in the very fact of continued existence? 1202. The sense, of course, is that one should acquire religious merit without wasting one's body; one should not, that is, cause one's body to be destroyed for the sake of earning merit. 1203. On the occasion of the Jata-karma the sire says 'be thou as hard as adamant,' 'be thou an axe (unto all my foes).' The upakarma or subsidiary rite is performed on the occasion of the samavartana or return from the preceptor's abode. It is called subsidiary because it does not occur among the rites laid down in the Griha Sutras. The words uttered on that occasion are, 'Thou art my own self, O Son.' 1204. Bhogya implies such articles as dress,--etc. Bhojya implies food, etc. Pravachana is instruction in the scriptures. Garbhadhana is the ceremonial in connection with the attainment of puberty by the wife. Simantonnayana is performed by the husband in the fourth, sixth or eighth month of gestation, the principal rite being the putting of the minimum mark on the head of the wife. The mark is put on the line of partition of her locks. 1205. In India in every house two sticks were kept for producing fire by rubbing. These were replaced by the flint-stone and a piece of steel. Of course, Bryant and May's matches have now replaced those primitive arrangements almost everywhere, and in the hands of children have become a source of great danger to both life and property. 1206. Prana is the organ of generation. Samslesha is union. The desires cherished are indicated in the Griha Sutras. 'Let our child be fair of complexion.' 'Let him be long-lived!' Though both parents cherish such wishes, yet their fruition depends more on the mother than the father. This is a scientific truth. 1207. The sense seems to be this. The mother only has correct knowledge of who the father is. The commands of the father, therefore, may be set aside on the ground of the suspicion that attaches to his very status as father. Then, again, if the father be adulterous, he should not be regarded on account of his sinfulness. Chirakarin asks, 'How shall I know that Gautama is my father? How again shall I know that he is not sinful?' 1208. The object of this verse is to indicate that when Gautama had ceased to protect his wife he had ceased to be her husband. His command, therefore, to slay her could not be obeyed. 1209. The commentator argue that 'man being the tempted, takes the guilt upon himself; woman, being the tempted, escapes the guilt.' 1210. The sense is this: the sire is all the deities together, for by reverencing the sire, all the deities are pleased. The mother, however, is all mortal and immortal creatures together, for by gratifying her one is sure to obtain success both here and hereafter. 1211. Dharmasya is explained by the commentator as Yogadharma-sambandhi. Probably, Gautama blames his own carelessness in not having provided, by Yoga-puissance, against the commission of the offence. The commentator observes that the Rishi's exculpation of Indra himself is due to his own purity of nature and the entire absence of a desire to wrong other people. In reality, however, there can be no doubt that it was Indra who was to blame. 1212. i.e., prince Satyavat said that the persons brought out for execution should not be executed. The power of kings did not extend over the lives of their subjects. In other words the prince argued against the propriety of inflicting capital punishment upon even grave offenders. 1213. Verse 10 is a triplet. 1214. The Burdwan translator gives a very incorrect version of this verse. He misunderstands both text and commentary completely. K.P. Singha is correct. 1215. The commentator explains that the object of this line is to show that the very Sannyasin, when he offends, deserves to be chastised. K.P. Singha misunderstands the line completely. The Burdwan version is correct. 1216. Both the vernacular versions of this verse are incorrect. The first half of the first line should be taken independently. The commentator explains that after gariyamsam the words api sasyu should be supplied. Aparadhe tu punah punah, etc., is said of offenders in general, and not eminent offenders only. 1217. i.e., punishments were not necessary in former times, or very light ones were sufficient. The Burdwan version of this verse is thoroughly ridiculous. 1218. Hence extermination is the punishment that has become desirable. 1219. Hence, by slaying them no injury is done to any one in this or the other world. 1220. Padma means, the ornaments of corpses. Grave-stealers that were in every country. Pisachat is Pisachopahatat. Evidently, idiots and mad men were the persons who were regarded to have been possessed by evil spirits. Daiyatam is an accusative which, like, Samayam is governed by the transitive verb Kurvita. Yah kaschit means yah kaschit mudyhah, na tu prajnah. The Burdwan version of this verse shows that the person entrusted with this portion of the Canti was altogether incompetent for the task. K.P. Singha gives the meaning correctly. 1221. The commentator supposes that after sadhun the word kartum is understood. The line may also be taken as meaning,--'If thou dost not succeed in rescuing the honest without slaying (the wicked).' Bhuta bhavya is sacrifice. The prince speaks of exterminating the rogues by slaying them as animals in a sacrifice because of the declaration in the Srutis that those killed in sacrifices ascend to heaven, purged of all their sins. Such acts, therefore, seem to be merciful to the prince, compared to death by hanging or on the block. 1222. The world thus improves in conduct and morality through the king only behaving in a proper way. Cruel punishments are scarcely needed to reform the world. 1223. The period of human life decreases proportionately in every succeeding age, as also the strength of human beings. In awarding punishments, the king should be guided by these considerations. 1224. The word satya is used here for Emancipation. Mahaddahrmaphalam is true knowledge, so called because of its superiority to heaven, etc. The way pointed out by Manu is, of course, the religion of harmlessness. In verse 35, there is an address to prince Satyavat. It seems, as I have pointed out, that verses 32 to 35 represent the words of the grandsire to whom the prince refers in verse 31. 1225. The redundant syllable is arsha. 1226. Both acts and knowledge have been pointed out in the Vedas. The Vedas, therefore, being authority for both, one or the other cannot be censured or applauded. 1227. Arsha means here Vedic injunctions declared through the mouths of inspired Rishis and compiled by Rishis. Viditatmanah is the Supreme Being himself. The object of the speaker is to show that no part of the Vedas can be censured, for every word in them is equally authoritative, all being God's own. 1228. Deva-yanah is explained by the commentator as Devam atmanam janti ebhiriti, i.e., those by which the Soul is reached. The relative strength or weakness of the four modes of life hath been thus indicated. The Sannyasin attains to Moksha or Emancipation; the forest recluse to the region of Brahman; the house-holder attains to heaven (region of the deities presided over by Indra) and the Brahmacharin attains to the region of the Rishis. 1229. The commentator explains that having commenced with the assertion that men should sacrifice from desire of heaven, the speaker fears that the hearer may deny the very existence of heaven. Hence, he takes a surer ground for justifying slaughter, viz., the ground that is connected with the consideration of food. Living creatures must eat in order to live. The very support of life requires the slaughter of life. Slaughter, therefore, is justified by the highest necessity. 1230. i.e., there are the essential requisites of sacrifice. 1231. The seven domestic animals are cow, goat, man, horse, sheep, mule, and ass. The seven wild ones are lion, tiger, boar, buffalo, elephant, bear, and monkey. 1232. Vichinwita is Vivechayet with alamvartham understood; atmanah is equivalent to jivat. 1233. All the products of the cow that are named here are not required in all sacrifices. Some are required in some, others in others. Those then that _are_ required, when coupled with Ritwijas and Dakshina, complete the respective sacrifices or uphold or sustain them. 1234. Samhritya means Ekikritya and not 'destroying' as the Burdwan translator wrongly takes it. 1235. The Burdwan translator, notwithstanding the clear language of both the text and commentary, wrongly connects the first line of verse 31 with the last line of 30, and makes nonsense of both verses. 1236. By taking the two lines of 32 with the last line of 30, the Burdwan translator makes nonsense of the passage. 1237. 'Brahmanas' here means that part of the Vedas which contains the ritual. 1238. Each constitutes the refuge of the other. 1239. There are many such expletives, such as hayi, havu, etc. 1240. For, as the commentator explains, one who has acquired an empire does not seek the dole of charity. In view of the high end that Renunciation is certain to bring, what need has a person of the domestic mode of life which leads to rewards that are insignificant compared to the other. 1241. Varhi is grass or straw. Oshadhi here implies paddy and other grain. Vahiranya adrija implies 'other kinds of Oshadhi born on mountains,' i.e., the Soma and other useful hill plants and shrubs. Teshamapi mulam garhastyam should be supplied after the first line. Domesticity is the root of these, because these are cultivated or collected by persons leading the domestic mode of life. The argument in the second line is this: Oschadhibhyah pranah, pranat vahihna kinchit drisyate, atah viswasyapi mulam garhastyam. 1242. Literally rendered, the words are,--'Without doubt, Vedic mantras enter into persons of the regenerate classes in respect of acts whose effects are seen and acts whose effects instead of being seen depend upon the evidence of the scriptures.' Practically, what is said here is that all the acts of a Brahmana are performed with the aid of Vedic mantras. 1243. Mantras are necessary in cremating a Brahmana's dead body. Mantras are needed for assisting the dead spirit to attain to a brilliant form (either in the next world or in this if there be rebirth). These mantras are, of course, uttered in Sraddhas. After the dead spirit has been provided, with the aid of mantras, with a body, food and drink are offered to him with the aid of mantras. Kine and animals are given away by the representatives of the dead for enabling the dead ancestor to cross the Vaitarani (the river that flows between the two worlds) and for enabling him to become happy in heaven. The funeral cake, again, according to the ordinance, is sunk in water for making it easily attainable by him to whom it is offered. By becoming a human being one inherits three debts. By study he pays off his debt to the Rishis, by the performance of sacrifices he pays off his debt to the gods, and by begetting children he frees himself from the debt he owes to the Pitris. The argument then is this: when the Vedas, which are the words of Supreme Godhead, have laid down these mantras for the attainment of such objects in the next world, how can Emancipation, which involves an incorporeal existence transcending the very Karana (form) be possible? The very declarations of the Vedas in favour of acts are inconsistent with incorporeal existence or with the negation of existence with dual consciousness of knower and known. 1244. The mention of 'Devan' as the commentator points out--Rishis and also Pitris. The amrita here that these covet is, of course, the Sacrificial libation. 'Brahma-sanjnitah' implies 'conversant with Brahma,' for the Srutis say that 'Brahmavid Brahmaiva bhavati.' 1245. The terseness of the original has not been removed in the translation. Enam is the universal Soul dwelling within this physical frame. It refers to the person who constitutes himself to be the soul of all creatures or one who is conversant with Brahma or has become Brahma itself. That soul is said to have a fourfold nature, viz., it is virat (all-embracing), sutra (fine as the finest thread and pervading everything), antaryamin (possessed of omniscience), and suddha (stainless). Its four mouths, by which are meant the four sources of enjoyment or pleasure, are the body, the senses, the mind, and the understanding. What the speaker wishes to point out by this is the Bhotkritwa (power of enjoyment) of the Soul. The Kartritwa (power of action) is then pointed out by the mention of the doors which are the two arms, the organ of speech, the stomach and the organ of the pleasure (generation). These last operate as doors for shutting or confining the soul within its chamber. They are the screens or avaranas that conceal its real nature. The very gods feel their force, being unable to transcend them or their demands. He who would transcend them and shine in his own stainless nature should seek to control or restrain them. Practically, it is Yoga that is recommended for enabling one to attain to the position of the universal Soul. 1246. 'One who has cast off his upper garment' is one who clothes himself very scantily only for the sake of decency and not for splendour. 1247. Dwandwarama very likely means here the joys of wedded couples and not 'the pleasures derived from pairs of opposites'. The sense seems to be this that man is a Brahmana who, without marrying succeeds in enjoying singly all the felicity that attaches to married life. 1248. In reality all things are, of course, Brahma. Their external aspects are only transformations. The end of all creatures is death and rebirth till absorption takes place into Brahma by means of Yoga. 1249. The original is very terse. I have expanded it, following the commentator. Dana-yajna kriya phalam is chitta suddhi of purity or heart; antarena is equivalent to vina; anujananti governs Brahmanyam understood. Anyat phalam in the second line implies heaven and its joys (which satisfy ordinary men). The particle anu before jananti is taken to imply gurum anu, i.e., following the instructions of preceptors. 1250. These three verses run together and are extremely abstruse. There can be no doubt that the commentator is right. The construction is this: Yam sadacharam asritya samsritanam swakarmabhih (sahitam) tapah ghoratwam agatam, tam (sadacharam) puranam puranam saswatam dhruvam dharmeshu cha sutritamkitichit charitum asaknuvantah phalavanti vyushtimanti dhruvam cha karmani (mudah) vigunani, etc., pasyanti. The second line of 36 stands by itself as an explanatory sentence referring to some of the characteristics of the sadachara that is spoken of. Samsritanam, refers to men observing the different modes of life; ghoratwam agatam is samsarandhakaranasakam bhavati. What is meant by this is that the penances of such men, along with the duties they are called upon to observe by the particular mode of life they follow, become a terrible weapon, in consequence of their sadacharah, for destroying the evils of worldliness. The sadacharah spoken of here is nishkamadharmah. The latter is no new-fangled theory of men of learning but is puranam saswatam, and dhruvam. The phalavanti vyushtimanti, and dhruva karmani which fools regard to be vigyunani and anaikatitikani are, of course, those acts which are included within the word 'Yoga.' In brief, the speaker, in these three verses, wishes to inculcate that wise men, whatever their mode of life, observe its duties. But by virtue of the nishkama dharma they follow, they convert those duties and their penances into efficient means for dispelling the darkness of ignorance. Fools, on the other hand, unable to practise that nishkama dharma, look upon it and Yoga itself as fruitless and valueless although the rewards these confer are visible. 1251. The sciences that have disputation only for their foremost object, are, according to the commentator, the sciences of the Lokayatikas, the Saughatas (or Buddhists), the Kapalikas, etc. The other sciences based on Logic that are included within the word Agama are the two Mimamsas, Sankhya, and Patanjala. 1252. Aikatmyam is explained by the commentator as Eka eva dwaita darsana hina atma yatra bhavati. Practically, it is that state of the mind in which one perceives one's identity with everything in the universe. This is that true knowledge which brings about Emancipation or is Emancipation itself. 1253. They are called 'robbers of the scriptures' because they always seek to rob the scriptures of their true meaning. They are 'depredators of Brahma' because they deny the very existence of Godhead. Nirarambhah is Camadyarambha-sunyah. 1254. The particle anu means 'following the instructions of preceptors.' Samyame refers to Dharana, Dhyana and Samadhi. Some texts read Siddhante for samyame. 1255. What is intended to be said here is that only a life of Renunciation, so hard to follow, can lead to Emancipation. The Burdwan translator makes nonsense of the second line of 64 by connecting it with the first line of 65, K.P. Singha omits it entirely. 1256. The Vedas are Savda-Brahma or Brahma as represented by sound. 1257. I have expanded this verse, following the lead of the commentator. Some idea may be given of the extreme terseness of such verses by offering a literal rendering: 'That lump of matter which is made a (human) body by what is contained in the Veda, is (afterwards) made (a body by the same means).' One approaches one's wife after performing the rite of Garbhadhana. In this rite, different deities are invoked to develop different organs and parts of the body of the child to be begotten. Thus begotten, the body of the child is, subsequent to birth, cleansed or purified. All this requires the aid of the Vedic mantras. What Kapila wishes to teach is that commencing with acts, knowledge should finally be acquired. 1258. Yoga is the only way to true knowledge, hence Jnana-nishthah is Yoga-nishthah. 1259. These and men like these are pointed out as persons deserving of gifts. 1260. i.e., in Brahma as possessed of attributes and as freed from attributes. 1261. Matra is explained as miyante vishya anya i.e., the understanding. What is meant by guile in the practice of righteousness may be exemplified as follows. Individual grains of barley may be given away instead of clothes by one unable to obtain clothes for gift. But one giving away barley grains when perfectly able to give away clothes would be guilty of guile. 1262. The scriptures frequently lay down ordinances in the alternative. The absolute or substantive provisions are for the able. Those in the alternative are for them that are unable. 1263. What is meant by the sacrifices, etc., of such men being identical with infinite Brahma is that these men were identical with Brahma and whatever they did was Brahma. They had no consciousness of self, or they did nothing for self. They were the Soul of the universe. 1264. What is said here in effect is that at first there was only one course of duties, called sadachara or good conduct, for all men. In progress of time men became unable to obey all its dictates in their entirety. It then became necessary to distribute those duties into four subdivisions corresponding with the four modes of life. 1265. Both K.P. Singha and the Burdwan translator have completely misunderstood verse 23 and the first line of 24, which, as the commentator explains, should be construed together. The construction is Tam (sadacharam) santah grihebhyah nishkramya eva (sannyasam kritwaiva) vidhivatprapya paramam gatim gachcchanti. Anye santo vanamasritah tam vidhivat prapya, etc. Similarly, Grihameva bhisamsritya anye santah, etc. Jato-anye, etc. Thus, all the four modes, commencing with the last, are spoken of. 1266. It is impossible for any one to read the Burdwan version of such verses without pitying the Pandit responsible for its accuracy. Without understanding the commentary in the least, the words of the great commentator have been reproduced in the Burdwan version in a strange order, rejecting some of the connecting links without any excuse, and making the Collocation utterly unintelligible. K.P. Singha gives the substance very briefly without endeavouring to translate the words. And yet the verse presents almost no difficulty. The last line of 29 and the first line of 30 make one sentence. Chaturthopanishaddharmah is explained by the commentator as implying paramatma-vishayini vidya, tadartham dharmah. There are four states of consciousness: 1st, wakefulness; 2nd, dream; 3rd, dreamless slumber (sushupti); and 4th, Turiya, which is reached by Samadhi (abstraction of Yoga-meditation), and in which Brahma becomes realisable. What is said in these two lines is simply this: the duties (dharmah), relating to the Chaturthopanishat or, the Knowledge of Paramatman, are sadharanah or common to all the four orders of men and modes of life. Those duties, of course, are sama, dama, uparama, titiksha, sraddha, samadhi. What is said in the last line of 30 is that Brahmanas of pure hearts and restrained souls always succeed (by the help of those duties) in acquiring or attaining to that Turiya or consciousness of Brahma. 1267. Apavargamiti is explained by the commentator as apavargaprada vidya or Brahmasakshatkararupa vrittiryasmin iti. Nityin is avasyakah. Yatidharmah is a life of Renunciation. What is meant by sanatanah is sampradayagatah. 1268. Sadharana is opposed to kevala. Yathavalam implies yathavaira-gyam, Gachcchatam Gachcchatam means purushamatrasyavanigvya-dhadeh. The Burdwan translator misses the sense altogether and K.P. Singha quietly passes over the entire second line of this triplet. Durvala means he who is wanting in vairagya. 1269. The commentator explains that the object of this verse is to show that even if there be equality in respect of the end that is attained in next life, there is more of real felicity in a life of Renunciation than in a life of enjoyment. The Burdwan translator misses the sense entirely. 1270. The Burdwan translator gives a very erroneous version of this verse. 1271. For by Knowledge Emancipation is obtained. 1272. Vatarechaka is bhastra or a bellows. What is implied is, perhaps, that such a man breathes or lives in vain. 1273. Nasti is explained by the commentator as the past and the future. Nishtha is swarupam. Literally, what is said is that everything is the Vedas, or the Vedas are everything. This is, perhaps, only an exaggerated mode of saying that the Vedas deal with everything. 1274. The sense seems to be that while they that are ignorant regard the universe to be as existent and durable as the thunder or adamant, the man of knowledge regards it to be truly non-existent though it puts forth the appearance of existence. 1275. I have endeavoured to give a literal version of verse 45. It is difficult, however, to seize the meaning from such versions. The word used in the first line is Tyaga implying Renunciation. The commentator correctly explains that this is that complete Renunciation which takes place in Samadhi or the perfect abstraction of Yoga. Samaptam is samyak aptam (bhavati). This samyak is Brahma. Similarly, santosha is not ordinary contentment but Brahmananda or the Supreme felicity of one who has attained to Brahma. The meaning, then, is this: in the complete abstraction of Yoga (i.e., Samadhi) is Brahma. This all the Vedas teach. In Emancipation again is the Supreme felicity of Brahma. Apavargah is not annihilation but Emancipation, which is existence in Brahma without the dual consciousness of knower and known. 1276. I have followed the commentator in his exposition of almost all the adjectives in the text. 1277. The grammatical construction of this verse is very difficult to catch. There can be no doubt that the commentator is right. Tehjah, kshama, santih,--these are anamayam subham, i.e., nirdukhasya sukhasyapraptau hetuh. Tatha, separates these from what follows. Abidham Vyoma Santanam, and dhruvam are governed by gamyate, Etaih sarvaih refers to Tejah and the two others. Abidham is explained as akittrimam; vyoma as jagatkaranam. The Burdwan translator gives a correct version, although his punctuation is incorrect. He errs, however, in not taking anamayam subham as one and the same. K.P. Singha errs in connecting anamayam with what follows tatha. 1278. Nishkriti is literally escape. There is escape for those referred to; of course, the escape is to be sought by expiation. There is none for an ingrate, for ingratitude is inexpiable. 1279. Asubheshu is explained as asubheshu karmashu upasthiteshu. 1280. The Brahman evidently refers to the indifference of Kundadhara towards him. He had thought that Kundadhara would, in return for his adorations, grant him wealth. Disappointed in this, he says, when Kundadhara does not mind my adorations, who else will? I had, therefore, better give up all desire for wealth and retire into the woods. The passage, however, seems to be inconsistent with the Brahmana's indifference to the fine fabrics of cloth lying around him. 1281. Persons who have won ascetic success utter a wish and it is immediately fulfilled. 'I give thee this,' and forthwith what is given in words appears bodily, ready to be taken and appropriated. The words of such persons do not follow their meanings, but meanings follow their words. 1282. The Burdwan translator makes nonsense of this verse. He forgets his grammar so completely as to take etaih as qualifying lokah. 1283. The verse is not difficult; the commentator, again, is very clear. The Burdwan translator, however, while citing the very words of the commentary, totally misunderstands them and makes utter nonsense of them. Ekarthanam is explained as Ekam chitiasuddhih Iswarapritirva tadarthanam madhya. The question asked is dharmartham yo yajnah samahitah (viniyuktah) tadeva vruhi and not that Yajna which sukhartham (bhavati). 1284. One that subsists upon grains of corn picked up from the fields after the reapers have abandoned them is called a person leading the unchha mode of life. The Burdwan translator commits the ridiculous error of taking unchhavrittih as the _name_ of the Brahmana. The commentator supposes that Yajna here implies Vishnu, as expounded in the Srutis. 1285. Syamaka is a variety of paddy called Panicum frumentaceum. 'Suryaparni' is otherwise called 'Mashaparni' (Ayurvedhartha chandrika). It is identified with Tiramus labialis, syn.--Glycine deblis. 'Suvarchala' is a name applied to various plants. Here, very probably, 'Brahmisaka,' or Herpestes Monnjera (syn.--Gratiola Monniera, Linn) is intended. 1286. i.e., he never slaughtered living animals for offering them in sacrifices because of his inability to procure them. He, therefore, substituted vegetable products for those animals. His sacrifices, intended to take him to heaven, were really cruel in intention. 1287. Following the Bombay text I read the last line of 8 as Sukrasya punarajatih Parnadonamadharmavit, or Sukrasya punarjnabhih, etc.; ajatih is a 'descendant.' If ajnabhih be taken as the reading it would mean 'at the repeated commands of Sukra.' The Bengal reading apadhyanat adharmavit seems to be vicious. Both the vernacular versions are incorrect; K.P. Singha supplying something of his own will for making sense of what, he writes, and the Burdwan translator writing nonsense as usual. 1288. K.P. Singha wrongly translates this verse; for once, the Burdwan translator is correct. 1289. Both the vernacular versions of this verse were incorrect. The commentator explains that the grammar is rasatalam didrikshuh sa Yajna-pavakam pravishtah. Yajne duscharitam kinnu, samipavarti mudo janah i.e., fearing to see many other defects in the sacrifice which was being celebrated by an ignorant person. 1290. Vaddhanjalim is an adverb, qualifying ayachata. The Burdwan translator wrongly takes it as an adjective of Satyam. 1291. In verse 8, it is said that it was a descendant of Sukra, viz., the virtuous Parnada, who had become a deer and lived in those woods as the Brahmana's neighbour. Here it is said that it was the deity Dharma who had become so. The two statements may be reconciled supposing that Dharma first became the Rishi Parnada and then, as Parnada, was metamorphosed into a deer. Tasya nishkritim adhatta is explained by the commentator in a very far-fetched way. He takes these words to mean that Dharma, who had become a deer, provided at this juncture for his liberation from that metamorphosis. I think tasya has reference to the misled Brahmana. 1292. Yajnia is explained as yajnaya hita. 1293. Samadhanam is the absorption of meditation, or that state of mind in which one has no longer any affection for the world, Bharyayh is genitive, but the Burdwan translator takes it for the instrumental singular. 1294. Yo dhamah is the reading I take, and not no dharmah. 1295. The commentator explains the grammar as panchanam (madhya ekam) artham prapya, etc. 1296. This is the mastery or puissance that is brought by Yoga, so that the person succeeds, fiats of the will, in creating whatever he desires. 1297. The Burdwan translator gives a ridiculous version of this verse. He cites the commentator's words without understanding them aright. 1298. What he does is to abandon sakamah dharmah for betaking himself to nishaamah dharmah or the practice of duties without desire of fruit, for only such a course of conduct can lead to Emancipation. 1299. By dharma here is meant nishkama dharma, for the fruits of sakama dharma are not eternal, heaven like all things else having an end. 1300. What is said in this verse is this: when a man wants an earthen jar, he works for creating one. When he has got one, he no longer finds himself in the same state of mind, his want having been satisfied. Similarly, with men desirous of heaven and earthly prosperity as the reward of virtue, the means is Pravritti or acts. This or these cease to operate with those who having acquired such virtue set themselves for the achievement of Emancipation, for with them the religion of Nivritti is all in all. 1301. i.e., by abandoning all kinds of idleness, as explained by the commentator. 1302. i.e., by Yoga-meditation one should regulate and finally suspend one's breath. The Yogin can suspend all physical functions and yet live on from age to age. 1303. Nidra here is explained as ananusandhana or the absence of inquisitiveness or curiosity. By pratibha is meant inquiry after improper things or things that are of no interest. 1304. The truth is that the world is unreal and has no end. 1305. Hunger is to be subdued by Yoga, i.e., by regulating the wind within the body. Doubt is to be dispelled by certainty; this implies that certain knowledge should be sought for by driving off doubt. The commentator thinks that this means that all sceptical conclusions should be dispelled by faith in the scriptures. By 'fear,' in this verse, is meant the source of fear, or the world. That is to be conquered by the conquest of the six, i.e., desire, wrath, covetousness, error, pride, and envy. 1306. What is laid down here is the same course of training that is indicated for Yoga. First, the senses are to be merged into the mind, then the mind is to be merged into the Understanding, then the Understanding is to be merged into the Soul or what is known as the Ego. This Ego is to be merged at last into the Supreme Soul. When the Ego is understood, it comes to be viewed as Brahma. 1307. 'Pure acts' are, of course, those that are included in 'Nishkama dharmah,' and 'tranquillity of soul' is the cleansing of the soul by driving away all passions and desires. 1308. Such restraint of speech, etc., or niyamah is yogah. Kamaoanyatha is kama-vaiparityena. The sense, the commentator adds, is that one should not desire 'yoga-siddhi,' for then, as has been repeatedly indicated in the previous Sections, the Yogin would fall into hell and succeed not in attaining to Emancipation, heaven itself being hell in comparison with the felicity of Emancipation. K.P. Singha quietly skips over the last line and the Burdwan translator offers a ridiculously incorrect version. 1309. Yebhyah means 'the materials from which.' (Srijati) has Paramatma for its nominative (understood). Kale is the time of creation as selected by the Supreme Soul in his own wisdom. Bhavaprachoditah is 'induced by the desire of becoming many, or led by the desire of existence as many or in infinite diversity.' 1310. Kala here is, perhaps, the embodiment of the abstract idea of life of living creatures. Impelled by the Understanding, Kala or life sets itself to the creation of other creatures. These last also are equally the result of the same five primal essences. 1311. The construction of the second line is this: etan shad abhinivrittan (sarveshu karyeshu anugatam) vettha; then ete yasya rasayah (karyani, tat asat). The sense of the last clause is that all this is the effect of those primal essences. All this, therefore, is of those essences. The latter are included in the word asat, or unreal, as distinguished from sat or real of substantial. The soul is sat, everything else is asat. 1312. In previous Sections it has been explained how when the Chit, which has pure knowledge for its attribute, becomes invested with Ignorance, it begins to attract the primal essences towards itself in consequence of the potencies of past acts and take birth in various shapes. (The idea of past acts is due to the infinite cycles of creation and destruction, the very first creation being inconceivable). The causes of creation are, therefore, the five primal essences, Jiva (or chit), the potencies of past acts, and Ignorance. 1313. Jnanani is Jnana-karanani, i.e., perceptions for causes of perception. 1314. The second line of 13 is very condensed. The meaning is this: the eye is the sense of vision. Vision or sight is its function. The object it apprehends is form. The eye has light for its cause, and form is an attribute of light. Hence the eye seizes or apprehends form. By the inference of reason, there is similitude, in respect of attribute or property, between the eye, vision, and form. The commentator explains this clearly Drashtri-darsanadrisya nam trayanamapi gunatamatyam upapannam. This is indicated with a little variation in the next verse. K.P. Singha skips over the line. The Burdwan translator gives an incorrect version. 1315. Manas is mind, Buddhi is Understanding, and Kshetrajna is the Soul. What, however, is Chitta is difficult to ascertain, unless it means vague or indefinite perception. In some systems of philosophy the Chitta is placed above the Understanding. 1316. The Bengal reading yathagantam is preferable to the Bombay reading yatha mama. 1317. The first line of 27 is grammatically connected with the last line of 26. The second line of 27 is very abstruse. The grammatical construction is this: tayorbhavayogamanam (sushuptau) pratyaksham (drishtam); (tadeva) nityam, ipsitam (cha). What is meant by this is that in ordinary men, the notions during wakefulness are not the notions they cherish during dreams: nor are their notions during dreams identifiable with those they entertain while wakeful. There is similarity but not identity. In eternal Sushupti, however, which is Emancipation, the notions of wakefulness pass into those of dream and those of dream pass into those of wakefulness, i.e., both (or, rather, the same, for there is then perfect identity between them) become directly apprehensible in Sushupti or Emancipation. Sushupti or Emancipation, therefore, is a state, in which there is neither the consciousness of wakefulness nor that of dream, but both run together, their differences disappearing totally. 1318. This is a triplet. 1319. Brahmabhava is explained as follows: when one succeeds in understanding Brahma, one is said to attain to Brahma, as the Srutis declare. The commentator explains that Pasyanti is used with reference to those that are learned in the scriptures. They behold the attainment of the highest end by Jiva _not_ with their physical eyes but with the eye of the scriptures, for they that are themselves emancipated cannot be said to behold the emancipation of another. This is grave trifling for explaining the use of the word pasyanti. 1320. The commentator points out that possessions of value include even the region of Brahman. Men of knowledge, who seek Emancipation, do not set any value on even the joy of the region of the Creator. 1321. The commentator explains that one should not cherish the desire for wealth even for the sake of acquiring virtue therewith. When, however, wealth is obtained without effort, such wealth should be applied to the acquisition of virtue. One is also directed to give up the desire of acquiring wealth (by even innocent means) the reason being that desire, when cherished, is sure to increase and get the better of one's heart. 1322. The commentator observes that the first line means that the man of knowledge should wish for happiness to all, and never wish sorrow to any one. Sarvam includes virtue and vice. Of course, the practice of nishkama dharma is recommended. 1323. All Brahmanas have to pluck flowers in the morning for offering them to the deities they worship. The task takes many minutes, because a good many have to be plucked for the purpose. This being a daily occupation and they going as they do to places where flowers abound, the act of plucking goes on while the plucker is mentally engaged with other things. 1324. The Bengal reading sputam vyaghro mrigamiva, etc. is preferable to the Bombay reading sputam vyaghram mahaughova. If the Bombay reading be accepted, the meaning would be 'Him Death snatches away as a mighty wave sweeps away a sleeping tiger.' The idea of a sleeping tiger being swept away by a surging wave is very unfamiliar. 1325. Devas here evidently refer to the senses. The senses are, as it were, cattle. Their true fold is the forest and not peopled cities and towns. In the forest there are no temptations to try them as in the midst of cities and towns. 1326. Jivitarthapanayenaih is connected with hinsati. To take it (as the Burdwan translator does) as an adjective qualifying 'pranibhih' would be incorrect. 1327. The Sacrifice of Peace is opposed to the Sacrifice of Slaughter. The Sacrifice of Brahma is Yoga which leads to a knowledge of the Soul. The Sacrifice of Speech is Vedic recitation or Japa. The Sacrifice of Mind is contemplation, and that of Acts is baths, performance of other acts of purity, waiting dutifully upon the preceptor, etc. 1328. To perform the Sacrifice of Self is to merge the Soul in the Supreme Soul. 1329. The Bombay reading danda-vidhanam is a blunder for the Bengal reading danda nidhanam. To interpret vidhanam as equivalent to abandonment or giving up, by taking the prefix vi, in the sense of vigata would be an act of violence to the word. 1330. The guha or cave referred to is the body. 1331. By Prakriti, as explained in previous Sections, is meant primal nature consisting of the five great essences of earth, water, etc. 1332. Samupodeshu is explained as upasthiteshu api, i.e., even when such objects are present and ready for enjoyment. 1333. Maitrayangatah, as explained by the commentator, is Suryavat-pratyaha-vibhinna-margah, i.e., roving like the Sun every day in a different path. The object of the speaker is to lay it down that one solicitous of Emancipation should never confine oneself to one spot, but rove or wander over the world without owning a fixed habitation or home. K.P. Singha translates the word wrongly. 1334. In the first line, the Bengal reading madhya na chacharet is better than madhya cha nacharet. Pradakshinam is ankulam, and savyam is pratikulam. The grammar of the second line is not difficult. Besides, the commentator explains it clearly. The Burdwan translator, leaving out the words bhaikshacharyam and taking anapannah as equivalent to vipadapannah, gives a thoroughly ridiculous version. K.P. Singha, also, is not correct. The commentator explains that charyam means anekagrihatanam; anapannam is akurvan. The second foot is unconnected with the first. 1335. Muni, here, is one who has restrained his senses, or who has betaken himself to the path of Renunciation. Patrasamchara, I think, is the act of setting the dishes for those who are to dine off them. The commentator explains that it means 'the motion of those who are to distribute the food.' Of course, their motions from the kitchen to the dining hall and back are implied if the word is taken for 'setting of dishes.' The sense remains unaltered. The Muni must be abstemious and hence he should select an hour like this for begging his dole, when there would be very little in the house to give. 1336. Matra is a technical word signifying the taking of food to the extent of only gratification of hunger, or, as explained by Chakrapani Datta in his commentary on Charaka, triptimatram. When matra is to be disregarded, clothes, etc., need not be mentioned. Vihanyeta is equivalent to hinsito na syat. 1337. The second line is passed over by K.P. Singha. What is meant by it is that when such a man is respectfully presented with anything, he should hold it in reprobation. Vide the Sanatsujatiya Sections in Udyoga Parva, particularly the verses beginning with Yatra akathayamanasya, etc. 1338. The second line is skipped over by K.P. Singha. The Burdwan translator gives a wrong version. The commentator explains that anyam refers to paisachim, and anyatra to atmani. In the Sanatsujatiya Sections also, a Brahmana's practices are directed to be concealed. 'To enter his own Self' is to turn self on Self, i.e., to withdraw oneself from everything for understanding and contemplating the Soul. 1339. By totally abstaining from acts he should avoid both merit and demerit. 1340. This is a triplet. The Burdwan translator misses the meaning of the first half of the first line. The commentator explains that abhayastam is continuous; bhautikam is tattwajatam, atmanodehendriyadi. Hence, bhutanam means anyesham bhutanam. 1341. To think beforehand of the food one is to take is to convert oneself into gourmand. The Sannyasin, without thinking of the food he would take, and without mentally indulging in a foretaste thereof should take what he gets without exertion. 1342. Sanjnakam from the root jna meaning marana or killing. 1343. The two negatives in the first line are equivalent to an affirmative. Prasangatah is explained by the commentator in a slightly different way. Affluence, in consequence of the attachment it generates, stands in the way of Emancipation. Hence, i.e., in consequence of this consideration, the king's opinion regarding affluence, is correct. With respect to the certainty of attaining to Emancipation, compare Gita, Vahunam janmanamante jnanavan mam prapadyate, etc. 1344. The object of this verse, as explained by the commentator, is to exhort Yudhishthira to strive after Emancipation without being at all moved by his happiness or misery which (as stated here) come to Jiva as accidents. 1345. The wind has space for its progenitor. Jiva has the stainless and immutable Chit for his progenitor. Like the wind, which is hueless, catching hues from surrounding objects and making its own hueless progenitor look as if it has hues, Jiva also, though in reality stainless, catches stains from Ignorance and Acts and makes his own progenitor, the stainless and immutable Chit, display stains of every kind. This is how the commentator puts the simile, supplying the points that have been omitted in the text. 1346. These aphorisms are very abstruse. What is meant by saying that the attainment of Brahma does not depend upon Acts is this: Acts are terminable. Their consequences also are terminable. Acts, therefore, can never be the means by which Brahma can be attained, for Brahma is interminable and eternal, not like the felicity of heaven which is changeful. The only means by which Jiva may revert to Brahma is by dispelling Ignorance through Knowledge; or, as the Upanishads declare, one attains to it as one gets one's forgotten necklace of gold, which all the while is on the neck though sought for with assiduity everywhere. K.P. Singha misunderstands it completely. What is meant by the direction about reverencing persons who have attained to Brahma is this: the existence of Brahma and the possibility of Jiva's reverting to that Immutable status are matters that depend upon the conception of such men. Brahma, again, is so difficult to keep, that the great sages never desist for a moment from the culture that is necessary for its retention. 1347. Intermediate i.e., as animals and birds and reptiles and worms, etc. 1348. i.e., if righteous, one attains to happiness; if otherwise, to the reverse. 1349. Verse 21 and the first line of 22 are grammatically connected. 1350. Me in the second line is equivalent to Maya. Tatah is tatra yuddhakale. Hari had come to aid Indra, and hence Vritra had beheld him. He is called Hari because he takes away one's sins. Besides the well-known derivation of the word Narayana, the commentator here offers another, viz., the ayanam or layasthanam of Nara or Jivasangha. 1351. Vaikuntha has various etymologies. The commentator inclines to explain it as 'one who brings together all creatures.' Purusha is full; as applied to Narayana, it, of course, means one who has no defect but who is the sole representative of fullness. Sukla or Suddha or pure. Vishnu is all-pervading. Sanatan is kutastha or uniform or immutable. Munjakesa, is possessed of yellow hair, or hair of the hue of Munja grass. Harismasru is having a tawny beard. 1352. Penances are meritorious. The very sight of Hari that I obtain was as efficacious as a course of the austerest penances. Of course, in consequence of that and my other penances great have been the rewards that I have enjoyed. It seems, however, that the full measure of rewards has not been reaped; the remnant is to be enjoyed by me now, for I am about to ask thee about the fruits of acts. Sacred and highly auspicious is my enquiry. To make it is, in itself, a reward. 1353. Vaya acts are, of course, sacrifices and other religious acts; by abhyantara acts are meant santi, danti, uparati, titiksha, and samadhi, i.e., the usual course of mental training necessary for Yoga. What the speaker intends to lay down in this verse is that sacrifices are not entirely useless. These may lead to chitta-suddhi or the cleansing of the heart, which, when attained, leads to knowledge of Him or the Soul or to Emancipation or Infinity. 1354. The comparison lies in the fact of the desirability of the two acts. No one likes the stains the body may catch to remain unwashed or unwiped off. Similarly, no one should neglect to wash off the faults that the heart may catch. There is no comparison between the two acts with regard to the degree of effort necessary to accomplish each. 1355. 'Efforts born of practice' refer to both external and internal Sadhana. 1356. Karmaviseshan is explained by the commentator as equivalent to ragaviraga-hetun. 1357. Sampravartante and tishthanti are thus explained by the commentator. 1358. In the previous verses the speaker describes the training that one should undergo. In this and the following ones, he speaks of the object to be known. Sreeman is explained as asriyate iti srih, i.e., upadhih, tadvan. Hari is Sambharata. Narayana is saravasrayah. Prabhu is sarvaniyanta. Deva is dyotate-iti i.e., Chinmatrah. These etymologies must be grasped for understanding this verse. 1359. The 'mutable' in all creatures is the combination of the five primal essences. The 'immutable' in them is Jiva, or Chit as invested with ignorance. The eleven modifications that constitute. His essence are the eleven senses of knowledge and action with the mind. Equipped with these eleven. He drinketh the universe, i.e., enjoys it. The rays are these senses themselves. Equipped with the senses. He enjoys the universe with the senses. 1360. 'His mind is _in_ the Moon.' i.e., His mind is the Moon. The expression 'waters in the Ganges,' implies a distinction that does not exist between container and contained, for 'Ganges,' means the water so named. 1361. The sandhi between sa and acramanam is arsha. 1362. Dharma has various meanings all of which, however, are closely created with one another. As duty, or the assemblage of all acts which we should do, it is both Righteousness and Religion. 1363. The Sacrificial grahas or patras (vessels) are called after the names of the deities Indra, Vayu, Soma, etc. The sixteen Ritwijes are Brahman, Hotri, Adhyaryu, Udgatri, etc. 1364. Verse 21 to 23 show the unity of the Divine Being. The variety perceived is only apparent, not real. 1365. Verse 31 and 32 are not difficult; yet the Burdwan translator makes nonsense of the same. 1366. This is elaborated in the Vishnu Purana, Part I, Sec. V. There are three primary creations, viz., Mahat, the five primal essences in their subtile forms and the senses. From the Six colours again six other creations have sprung. To the Dark colour is due all immobile creatures; to the Tawny all the intermediate order of creatures (viz., the lower animals and birds, etc.); to the Blue are due human beings, to the Red the Prajapatyas; to the Yellow the deities; and to the White are due the Kumara, i.e., Sanatkumara and others. 1367. Emancipation is so difficult. 1368. The construction of the first line is this: subham darsanam (auspicious scriptures) gatwa (prapya) Devah yam gatim (identical with) darsanam (atmanubhavatmikam) aha, Gati is naturally dependent on Varna, and Varna upon 'Time or acts.' 1369. There are ten senses of knowledge and action. To this must be added Manas, Buddhi, Ahankara and Chitta, which are sometimes called the four Karanas. In consequence of these fourteen, fourteen different kinds or merit and demerit may be achieved by Jiva who is their possessor. These fourteen kinds of merit and demerit also, are subdivided into hundreds of thousands each. Jiva, in course of his wanderings through the universe, ascends in the scale of Being, stays in particular rungs, and falls down from them into lower rungs, accordingly, What the speaker wishes to inculcate is that these fourteen should always be towards the attribute of Sattwa or Goodness. 1370. This life, it should be noted, leadeth to Jiva's transformation as an immobile object. A creature of Dark hue becomes addicted to wicked acts and rots in hell His existence as an immobile object is hell itself. 1371. Prajavisargah is the period for which one Creation lasts, being equal to what is called a Kalpa. 1372. The Dark and the Tawny hues of their corresponding states of existence, viz., the immobile and the intermediate, are regarded as states of endurance. Hence, when the misery that is their portion has been fully endured, the recollection is suddenly irradiated into the mind, of the righteousness that distinguished Jiva in ages far remote. Anisa is helpless or cheerless. 1373. Cha at the end of the second line is equivalent to va. Unless cha be taken as equivalent to va the verse would yield no meaning. After Tawny comes Blue, i.e., after attainment of existence as an Intermediate creature Jiva attains to humanity. This occurs when Sattwa does not predominate. Hence anyatha should be supplied after upaiti. 1374. Vyatite is a finite verb in indicative mood, as pointed out by the commentator. It comes from root i with suffix vi. After sate supply jate sati. The Burdwan translator takes it as a participial adjective in the locative singular, which is, of course, wrong. The version he gives of this line is most ridiculous, containing as it does a self-contradictory assertion. K. P. Singha gives the right meaning. 1375. When Jiva becomes a Deva, he has still the ten senses, the five Pranas, and the four internal possessions of mind, understanding, Chitta, and Ahankara, amounting in all to nineteen. These nineteen impel him to thousands of acts. Hence, even when transformed into Deva, Jiva is _not_ freed from acts, but is in niraya or hell,--acts being, under all circumstances, equivalent to hell. 1376. Vyuha implies the varied forms of one and the same thing Daivani in Sattwa-pradhanani. The five senses, with the mind, the understanding form a total of seven. The acts achieved through each of these may be subdivided a hundredfold. As these seven possessions adhere to Jiva till he becomes emancipated, he acts through these seven in a variety of ways, Relying, therefore, upon these seven hundred kinds of acts (which are but varied forms of one and the same thing, viz., Action), Jiva successively becomes Red and Yellow and White. Arrived at White, he courses through certain highly effulgent regions which are superior to the region of Brahman himself, and which leave behind or beneath them the Eight Puris (by which, perhaps, is meant the puri of Indra, that of Varuna, etc., or, Kasi, Mathura, Maya, etc., or symbolical stages of progress, which are fraught with great felicity). Those highly effulgent and adorable regions are obtainable by Knowledge alone or the fruit of Yoga. 1377. This is an exceedingly abstruse verse. The Burdwan version, in which unconnected bits of the commentary have been jumbled together, is utter nonsense. K.P. Singha skips over nearly the whole verse. The Eight puris referred to in the previous verse are here stated to be identical with the Sixty well-known incidents of even Sukla or White existence. This tale of Sixty is arrived at in this way: 1st, the state of wakefulness; 2nd, the gross body made up of the five primal essences; 3rd, the five attributes of sound, scent, form, taste, and touch; these come up to seven. Then come the ten senses of action and knowledge; the five breaths; mind, understanding, consciousness, and chitta: these form 19. Then come Avidya, Kama, and Karma. With Soul or the Beholder, the sum comes up to 30. The number becomes doubled when the state of Dream is taken into consideration, for like Wakefulness existing with the 29, Dream also exists with the 29. With those that are effulgent, i.e., with Beings that are Sukla or White, these 60 are simply mano-viruddhani or manomatrani eva. Unlike other Beings in lower spheres of existence, they that are effulgent or Sukla do not regard the states of Wakefulness and Dream as different but as the same. Hence, the para gati of such Beings is a state of existence that transcends both Wakefulness and Dream, and transcends Dreamless slumber also (for in Dreamless slumber the 30 exist suspended, to be revived with the return of wakefulness), and is identical with the fourth state called Turiya. 1378. What the speaker wishes to lay down here is that even he that is Jivanmukta or has achieved his Emancipation though living like other, is incapable of transcending the effects of his past acts. Every kind of existence or life (save that which is identical with Brahma) is anistha or inauspiciousness. That Yogin who is Jivan-mukta but who is not able to cast off the felicities of Yoga-puissance, resides in one and the same body for a full century of Kalpas, in a superior form of life, and after the expiry, of that century of Kalpas, he passes through four other regions named Mahar, Jana, Tapas, and Satya. Now, _this_ is the end of such a Yogin, who, of course, belongs to the sixth colour which is White, and who is freed from attachments and who is unsuccessful though successful, i.e., who has achieved Yoga-success but who has not still been able to achieve that success which consists in beholding Brahma or Brahma-sakshatkara. By anisah in this verse is meant that Yogin who is incapable of casting off the felicities brought about by Yoga-puissance. K.P. Singha gives the substance of the verse not very accurately. The Burdwan translator, in the version he gives, introduces three nominatives in the three sentences into which he splits it, viz., Jiva, the Yogin who is unable to cast off the felicities brought about by Yoga-puissance, and the Yogin who has achieved Brahma-sakshatkara, without understanding that all three refer to one and the same person. 1379. Anisah here means one who, after having attained to eminence by Yoga, falls off from Yoga. Tatra means heaven or the superior regions that are his in consequence of Yoga-eminence. For a century of Kalpas such a person has to dwell in heaven, with the unexhausted remnant of his senses, i.e., the senses of knowledge with mind and understanding, being always predisposed towards the attribute of Sattwa. Upon the expiry of that century of Kalpas, such a person, without ascending, descends to the world of men, but then here eminence of station becomes his. 1380. Saptakritwah is seven times. Paraiti is 'courseth through.' Lokah refers to the seven regions called respectively, Bhur, Bhuvar, Sivah, Mahar, Jana, Tapas, and Satya (or Brahmaloka). What is intended to be said here is this: If the Yogin, having attained to only the first stage of Yoga, dies, he ascends to heaven. Thence falling down on Earth, he becomes an Emperor and thus conquers the Earth or Bhu. In this way, as the Yogin gradually ascends in the path of Yoga, he ascends higher and higher. In this verse Sambarevikshepa has been used to signify Samadhi and awakening from Samadhi, for in the first the universe is destroyed, and in the second it is re-created. At the end, he reaches the region of Satya or Brahma. Thence even he has to return if he has not been able to achieve Brahma-sakshatkara. 1381. The seven that the Yogin desirous of Emancipation casts off are either the seven regions already referred to viz., Bhu, Bhuva, Swah, Maha, Jana, Tapa, and Satya, or the five senses of knowledge with mind and understanding. Samharam is equivalent to Samhritya, having been formed by the suffix namul. Upaplavoni are sources of grief or misfortune. The first Devasya refers to Mahadeva. The Saivas call that region Kailasa. The Vaishnavas call it Vaikuntha. The Hiranya-garbhas call it Brahman's or Brahmaloka. Sesha is Ananta, a particular form of Narayana. They who call it the region of Nara are, of course, the Sankhyas, for these regard Emancipation as the goal of Jiva or every creature. The Devasya vishnoh (in the third line) is Dyotamanasya Brahmanah i.e., Chinmatrasya, or of the pure Chit when uninvested with ignorance or Avidya. The Aupanishadas regard it as the region of Para-Brahma. The commentator clearly points out what the seven regions are. K.P. Singha, misunderstanding the verse, mentions only five; the Burdwan translator six. 1382. This verse is not at all difficult; yet the Burdwan translator makes utter nonsense of it. K.P. Singha gives the substance of the first line, but skips over the second. Without giving a literal version of the first line, I expand it, following the lead of the commentator. 1383. Sa here indicates the person conversant with Brahma. The construction is Sa yavat saseshabhuk asti tavat prajah tathaiva te sukle dyvyau cha tadangeshu (vartante). Etat in the second line is this paridrisyamanam viyadadi. What the speaker wishes to inculcate in this verse is that unto one conversant with Brahma, the whole universe up to complete identity with Brahma is as contiguous as a plum in the palm of the hand. When the Chitta is cleansed by Yoga as practised by Dhyana, Dharana, and Samadhis, then the perceptible universe appears to him as identical with his own senses. The two white sciences referred to are Paravidya and Aparavidya, i.e., all knowledge including that of Brahma. 1384. Suddhena manasa,--with cleansed mind, i.e., with the aid of Sarvana (hearing), Manana (attention), Dhyana (contemplation), and Abhyasa (repeated meditation). Two stages are indicated in this verse. The first is the attention of the suddham and paramam gatim or the stainless and high end. This is equivalent to Brahma-sakshatkara. After this comes the second stage, which is the avayam sthanam or the spot which knows no deterioration, i.e., Emancipation. This is identical with the attainment of Eternal Brahma which is dushprapyam or difficult of attainment. 1385. The commentator says that the object of this verse is to inculcate the Impersonality of God. God is at the Root of all things, i.e., (as the commentator supposes according to the teaching of the Vedanta philosophy). He exists in His own unmodified nature, even as pure Chit. Both Vidya (Knowledge) and Avidya (Ignorance or illusion) exist in Him. In consequence of the latter he is Bhagavan, i.e., endued with the six grand attributes of puissance, etc. 1386. In the form of all things,--causes and effects--which constitute them. 1387. A Pyakta-parsant is explained by the commentator in this way. Vritra was a firm devotee of Vishnu. He did not, therefore, deserve defeat and fall. How, then, was he vanquished by Indra? Avyaktam is equivalent to aspashtam. 1388. The word used in verse 4 is vinihatah and that in verse 5 is nirjitah. There can be no doubt that both imply the same idea. 1389. Astha is efforts. 1390. Rathantara is another name for certain Samans, which are so called because of men being able to cross the world with their aid as by a car. (Ratha car, and tri to cross). 1391. 'Praising thee, for thy victory, etc.,' i.e.. the Rishis are uttering hymns of praise for conferring victory on thee. 1392. Raudrah may mean also 'appertaining to Rudra, which is another name of Mahadeva.' 1393. This account of the encounter between Vritra and Indra is substantially different from what occurs in the Vana Parva. Then again the part the Rishis are made to take in the slaughter of the Asura is certainly censurable. The great Rishis, even for benefiting the three worlds, would not certainly injure any creature. In the above account, Vasishtha and Vrihaspati and the others are very much represented as persons who have bet largely on Indra's success. In the account occurring in the Vana Parva, Indra is represented as standing in awful dread of Vritra and hurling his thunderbolt without even deliberate aim, and refusing to believe that his foe was dead till assured by all the deities. The present account seems to be a much older than that in the Vana Parva. 1394. Amanusham is literally inhuman. The use of such words are due to temporary forgetfulness in such connections. Like Homer, Vyasa also nods. 1395. Vadhya is the slaughter in her embodied form. 1396. Dwijapravarvadhya means the slaughter of a superior person of the regenerate order. Indeed, Vritra was a lineal descendant of the great sage Kasyapa, the common progenitor of the Devas and Asuras. Then, again, Vritra was certainly a very superior person. 1397. The rules or ordinance referred to it is about the killer of a Brahmana being liable to be overtaken by the sin of Brahmanicide. 1398. Anadhrishyam is, literally, unvanquishable. 1399. Uma or Parvati, the daughter of Himavat, the spouse of Siva. 1400. The self-created Brahman at first created, by fiats of his holy will, certain beings who were charged to procreate for filling the universe with living creatures. These are the Prajapatis or lords of all creatures. Amongst them was Daksha. Other accounts represent Daksha as the grandson of Brahman. 1401. There are three vocatives in this verse, expressive, of course, of great surprise. I omit them in the translation. 1402. A kind of substance like lac that oozes out of the stones of certain mountains during the hot months. It is also called Silajit, is taken internally by many men in the belief that it increases digestion and strength. 1403. The Indian cuckoo, noted for his clear musical kuhus. This is the favourite bird of Indian poets. 1404. i.e., Thou, however, art not so; therefore, it is a matter of surprise that thou shouldst not yet know me. The sense is not at all difficult, but K.P. Singha skips over it. 1405. Both the vernacular translators have erred in rendering this line. What Mahadeva says to Uma is, how is it that you have thus been stupefied? It is thou that stupefiest others! To see thee stupefied has created surprise in me. 1406. Mahadeva is called Virupaksha in consequence of his three eyes, the third eye making his features dreadful to behold. He is also called Tryaksha for his possession of three eyes. 1407. Every worshipper of Mahadeva must fill his mouth with air and then, shutting his lips, strike his cheeks, letting the air gently out at each stroke, and helping it with air from the lungs for keeping the current steady. By doing this a kind of noise is made like Bom, Bom, Babam, Bom. Mahadeva is himself fond of this music and is represented as often making ???. 1408. Vrisha is explained by the commentator as vrishti-kartri; Vrishya as Dharmavriddhikartri; Go-vrisha as Nandirupa; Katankata as Nityagamanasila; Danda as Niyantri. 1409. Godhead is frequently likened to anahatasavda or sound not perceptible by the ear, or sound in its nascent state. 1410. Huns are mystic sounds that stand as emblems for various things. 'Beyond three Huns' means, perhaps, 'beyond the influence of wrath.' 1411. In Sacrifice the butter is poured with mantras into the mouth of a selected Brahmana who represents the gods, and into also the sacred fire. What is said here is that the great god is of the form of that Brahmana and of the sacred fire. 1412. This alludes to the sports of Krishna in the groves of Vrinda with the rustic children who were his companions. 1413. The sacred stream of the Ganges, issuing out of Vishnu's feet, is held by Brahman in his Kamandalu or jar. Thence it issues out, and coursing through the heavens fall down on the head of Siva, for Siva alone is mighty enough to bear that fall. The matted locks of Siva bear the mark of the fall. This six well-known acts here referred to are Yajana, Yajana, Adhyayana, Adhyapana, Dana, and Pratigraha (i.e., performing sacrifices, assisting at the sacrifices of others, studying, teaching, making gifts, and accepting gifts). The three acts in which Siva is engaged are Yajana, Adhyayana, and Dana (i.e., the first, the third, and the fifth in the above enumeration). 1414. The commentator explains that by Sankhya the speaker means 'the propounder of the sceptical philosophy.' By Sankhya-mukhya which I render, 'the foremost of Sankhyas' is meant 'follower of the theistic philosophy of Patanjala.' By Sankhya-yoga is meant both Vedanta and Yoga. 1415. 'That hast a car and that hast no car' means, as the commentator explains, 'capable of coursing, without obstruction, through Water, Fire, Wind, and Space.' 1416. Isana is 'much desired' or 'much coveted by all persons.' 1417. i.e., thou createst and destroyest these repeatedly or settest them in motion. 1418. These are syllables which all singers of the Samans utter for lengthening short words in order to keep up the metre. 1419. i.e., He who is adored in these hymns is thyself and no other. 1420. These are the ten colours known to the Rishis. 1421. Lohitantargata-drishtih is explained by the commentator as Lohita antargata cha drishtirasya. By 'red eyes' is, of course, meant eyes of the colour of the lotus. By 'eyes turned inwards' is meant one whose gaze is upon his soul, i.e., one who is engaged in Samadhi. 1422. Chalachalah is explained as exceedingly chalah or swift. Achalah is nasti chalo yasmat; hence chaleshu (api) achalah is swift amongst the swift, or swifter than the swiftest. 1423. The great god is a fish wandering in the waters, i.e., as Jiva wanders in space; he is a fish in the net, i.e., as Jiva, invested with Darkness or Illusion, is obliged to take birth. 1424. Meghakala is the time when clouds appear, i.e., the time of the universal deluge. Samvartaka and Valahaka are the two clouds that appear on the occasion of the universal destruction. 1425. Mili-Mili is explained by the commentator differently. According to him, one connected with all things as cause is Mili. It is duplicated to show that Siva is always so. I prefer taking the word as meaning 'cause of causes.' 'The bearer of Danda, with, again, a bald head' is a Paramahansa, i.e., one who has renounced the world and its ways. 1426. The four Sacrificial fires are Treta, Avasathya, Dakshina, and Sahya. 1427. Silpika is one who is not well-skilled, or is ill-skilled, in the arts. It implies a common artisan. 1428. Dhatri is adikartri or Vishnu. Vidhatri is the four-headed. Brahman Sandhatri is he who joins all things into one; the second Vidhatri means the designer of destinies. 1429. The identity of Maheswara with Narayana or Krishna is here preached. In his incarnation of Krishna, Vishnu sported with the children of the cowherds of Vrinda and sportively lowed as a cow. He also protected the kine of Vrinda from floods, poison, etc. Govrisheswara is Nandi, the attendant of Mahadeva. 1430. The word Go in Gomargah is used to signify the senses. 1431. Durvaranah is explained by the commentator as 'irresistible when coming as Death.' Durvishah is 'destroyer of all kinds of poison in thy form of Amrita.' Durdharshah is incapable of being frightened. Durvishah is incapable of being measured. 1432. Vishagnipah is drinker of poison and fire. Siva is represented as the acceptor of all things that are rejected by others. In this consists his true divinity, for to the Deity nothing in the universe can be unacceptable or worthy of being cast off. The ashes of the funeral pyre are his, the poison produced by the churning of the ocean was his. He saved the universe by swallowing the poison on that occasion. 1433. Tushitadyapah is the correct reading. Thou protectest him who is the adya of the tushita, i.e., thou protectest Brahman himself. 1434. The commentator explains that what is meant by Mahadeva's staying 'alone' is that he is the knower, the known, and knowledge. 'On the other side of the ocean' means 'on the other side of desire and attachment, etc.' 'Overwhelming many thousands of persons' means 'overwhelming all creatures,' i.e., transcending them by his energy and knowledge. 1435. Of course, Yogins are spoken of. 1436. The eclipses of both the Moon and the Sun are caused, according to the Pauranic mythology, by Rahu devouring the Moon and the Sun at certain well-known intervals. Rahu is an Asura whose head only is still alive. Vide Adi Parva, On Churning of the Ocean. 1437. Garbhah means embryos or infants in the womb. The deities were referred to by this word, for they are embryos that have been born in Mahadeva. Patitah has twattah understood after it. Anu means 'after' i.e., 'after Brahman's creation.' 1438. These Beings are Rudras or portions of the great Rudra. 1439. Tasmaih paramgatah,--param is utkrishtam i.e., Renunciation and other superior practices. Tasmai is 'for the sake of That,' i.e., for Iswarah. 1440. Hence in this, the present Kalpa too, I am obliged to do the same, for all Kalpas must be similar in respect of the events that transpire in them. 1441. Matri-pakshe seems to be a misreading for bhartripakshe. 1442. By gunah which I have rendered 'virtues,' is, of course, intended all that constitute the body, including mind and understanding, all, in fact, that become the accompaniments of the Soul. 1443. Karma-buddhi is to be taken as one. It means the consciousness or apprehension of functions. Each sense or organ instinctively knows what its object is and apprehends that object immediately. This apprehension of its own functions, which every sense possesses, is here designated as Karma-buddhi. Mana-shashththani here simply means 'mind completing the tale of six.' It has no reference to the five senses having the mind for the sixth, for the senses have already been named in the previous verses. 1444. Acts here means the acts of past lives, or the desire dwelling in an incipient form, due to the acts of past lives. The commentator explains that the cha in the second line means the five attributes indicated in the first line. 1445. The word Buddhya in the first line is taken by the commentator as an instrumental and not as a genitive. Hence he takes it that Kalpitani is understood after it. 1446. i.e., occupies them one after another. 1447. Murti is a misreading for apurti or discontentedness. The Burdwan translator retains murti in his Bengali version. It is not clear which reading K.P. Singha adopts. The Bengali substitute he gives is murchccha or stupefaction. 1448. i.e., there are no materials of which it is constituted. Hence Sattwa or Buddhi has no asrayah or upadana. 1449. What the speaker inculcates in verses 41 and 42 is this: some are of opinion that with the apparent destruction of the body, the attributes that make up the body do not cease to exist. It is true that they cease to become apprehensible by the senses; but then, though removed from the ken of the senses, their existence may be affirmed by inference. The argument is that, if destroyed, their reappearance would be impossible. The reappearance, however, is certain. (For rebirth is a doctrine that is believed to be a solemn truth requiring no argument to prove it). Hence, the attributes, when apparently destroyed, do continue to exist. They are regarded as then inhering in the linga or subtile body. The counter opinion is that, when destroyed, they are destroyed for ever. The latter opinion is condemned by the speaker. 1450. In the second line the word is Gadhamavidwansah, i.e., 'ignorant of its bottom or depth.' K.P. Singha gives the meaning correctly, without translating the verse literally. The Burdwan translator makes nonsense of it. Both however, wrongly take agadha as the final word in yathagadha, forgetting that agadham is a masculine adjective incapable of qualifying nadim which is feminine. Ayam is Jiva. The last clause is to be taken as buddhiyogam anuprachyuta ayam tatha. 1451. This is not a difficult verse, yet both the vernacular translators have misunderstood it. What is said in the first line is this: yat vahudosham karoti, yat (cha) purakritam, ekatah cha dushyati. Both the finite verbs have jnanin (the man of knowledge) for their nominative understood. Dushyati means nasyati or destroys. The meaning then is that the man of Knowledge destroys his sinful acts of both this and past lives. The commentator cites the well-known simile of the lotus leaf not being drenched or soaked with water even when dipped in water. Now, this is that unseen fruit of Knowledge. In the second line, the visible fruits are indicated. The man of Knowledge refrains from censuring the wicked acts of others and from perpetrating any wicked act himself. Yat cha dushyati means yat parakritam anishtam dushyati or nindati, yat karoti means yat swayam ragadi-doshat karoti; tadubhayam apriyam (sa) na karoti, the reason being dwaitadarsana-bhavah. Such a man truly regards the universe as identifiable with himself. 1452. i.e., in even thy direst distress thou dependest on thyself. To cross the fearful river of life without a raft and with the aid of only one's bare arms implies great self-dependence. 1453. That which did not exist and will not exist, exists not at the present moment. Everything, therefore, which is of the nature of asat is non-existent. Our sorrows are connected with the asat. Knowing this, I have cast off all sorrows. 1454. I have understood that acts are for sorrow; that the fruits also of acts are for sorrow in spite of the apparent character of some; and that the fruits of acts are varied, sometimes other fruits appearing than those expected. Hence, I do not indulge in sorrow, for I avoid acts and do not grieve for not obtaining the fruits of acts or for the accession of fruits other than those apparently agreeable. 1455. The sense is that we who avoid acts, are not dead; in fact, we live quite as others do; and those others, how unequally circumstanced! The Burdwan translator makes nonsense of the first line simple though it is. 1456. Ignorance lies at the root of sorrow. By casting off ignorance, we have avoided sorrow. Hence, neither religion or religious acts such as Sacrifices, etc., can do us any good or harm. As regards happiness and misery again, these two cannot agitate us at all, since we know their value, both being ephemeral in comparison with the period for which we are to exist. 1457. Hence, no one should indulge in pride, saying, 'I am happy,' nor yield to sorrow, saying, 'I am miserable.' Both happiness and misery are transitory. The man of wisdom should never suffer himself to be agitated by these transitory states of his mind. 1458. The first word is read either as bhavatmakam or bhavatmakam. The first means samsararupam; the second, drisyatmakam. 1459. I am obliged to behold them because I am a living being having a body, but then I behold them as an unconcerned witness. 1460. The scriptures contain both kinds of instruction. There are declarations that are entirely in favour of Acts or observances. There are again declarations in favour of Knowledge. What the speaker asks is that the Rishi should discourse upon what the speaker should do, i.e., whether he should betake himself to the acquisition of Knowledge or to the doing of acts. 1461. i.e., Each Asrama speaks of particular observances and courses of conduct as beneficial. This, therefore, is a source of confusion to men of plain understandings. Is there no distinction then among duties or observances in respect of their beneficial character? This is the question propounded. The commentator thinks by the word asramas is meant the four principal faiths and _not_ the modes of life. 1462. I retain the word asrama in the English version as it is very doubtful in what sense it has been used in the original. The commentator explains that by four asramas are meant the four principal forms of creed prevalent at one time in India. The first is that there is no such thing as virtue or righteousness. This is ascribed to Sakya Simha or Buddha. The second is that righteousness consists in only the worship of trees, etc. The third is that only is righteousness which the Vedas have laid down. The fourth is that transcending righteousness and its reverse there is something for whose attainment one should strive. Yatha samkalpitah is explained by the commentator as yo yena sreyastena bhavitastasya tadeva sreyah. 1463. Gunoddesam is Gunakirtanam or the announcement of merits. What Narada says here is this: the asramas are four. The merits of each have been proclaimed by their respective founders. The principal merit each claims is that it leads to knowledge of Self. Now, the announcement is nanarupam; it is also prithak; and lastly, it is viprasthitam or contradictory, for, as the commentator points out, that which a particular asrama announces to be righteous is according to another unrighteous. Both the vernacular translators give incorrect versions. 1464. Te refers to asramas. Abhipretam is atma-tattwarupam. Yanti is equivalent to prapayanti. 1465. Mitranam is taken by the commentator to be equivalent to sarva-bhuta-labhayapadanam, i.e., they who have given the pledge of harmlessness to all creatures. By enemies is meant here the envious and harmful. 1466. In previous Sections the nature of Truth has been discussed. A formal truth may be as sinful as a lie, and a lie may be as meritorious as a Truth. Hence, the ascertainment of Truth is not easy. 1467. Atiyoga and Ayoga are well-known words which have no chance of being misunderstood in the way in which they have been misunderstood by both the vernacular translators. Indeed, K.P. Singha blunders ridiculously, while the Burdwan translator limits them to only the use of food, supposing the commentator's concrete examples exhaust the meaning. 1468. i.e., where an intermingling takes place of the four orders of men, viz., where Varna-sankara occurs. 1469. Mere companionship with the righteous leads to righteous acts; while that with the sinful leads to acts of sinfulness. 1470. Anuvishayam is vishayam anu vartate, i.e., rasah or flavour. An eater of vighasa is a good or pious man. What is said here is that such men eat for only filling their stomachs and not because eating is source of enjoyment or gratification. Atmavishayan is Buddherviseshatovandhakan, i.e., rasa-viseshan. 1471. Agamayamanam is Agamam pramanajam jnanam atmana ichcchatam. 1472. Akasasthah is niralamvanah, i.e., men who have no foundations to stand upon. The Bombay text reads dosham, the Bengal texts, doshan; the sense remains unaltered. The Bombay reading is atmapujabhikama, while the Bengal reading is the same word in the plural form. I accept the singular form and take it as qualifying panditah. 1473. Some of the Bengal texts read khattam. The Bombay reading is khatwam. The commentator explains that khatwam samarudhah Tibra duhkha-grastah. Anusayi means purvakarmavasanavan. The sense seems to be this: the desires born of one's past acts, i.e., acts of previous lives, adhere to the mind. Nothing can wipe them off, save Nivritti and Tattwajnanam or knowledge of truth. One should, therefore, practise the religion of Nivritti and seek to acquire knowledge of Truth. 1474. Both the vernacular translators quietly skip over the word pratyanantarah. 1475. i.e., where the people are virtuous and given to the performance of their duties. 1476. Kamesah is possessor of all objects of desire or enjoyment. The sense is this: where the king, casting off desire, wins prosperity for himself; i.e., though possessed of wealth, is not attached to wealth. The expression may also mean 'master of desire,' i.e., where the king casts off desire and masters his desires without allowing the latter to master him. 1477. Pratyupasthite is pritipatwena upasthite, i.e., hiyantanesati. 1478. I am not sure that I have understood aright the second line of this verse. It may also mean, 'No one is able to enumerate all that is beneficial for the Soul in consequence of the wideness of subject.' 1479. Vrittam has uddisya understood after it. The Bombay text reads pranihitatmanah; the Bengal reading is pranihitatmanah. If the Bengal reading be accepted, it would mean 'whose soul is fixed or established on Yoga.' Tapasa is explained by the commentator as swadharmena, in view of the question of Galava which Narada answers. The sense, however, would remain unaltered if it be taken as standing for Self-control or penances. 1480. Sampadam is explained by the commentator as upadesa-yogyata-sriyam. 1481. Some texts read sakyam; the reading sakyah also occurs. If the former be accepted, it must be taken as referring to tadawayam as the commentator explains. No alteration in sense occurs by adhering to the one reading or the other. 1482. In the second line some of the Bengal texts read lobheshu. The correct reading is lokeshu. Both the vernacular translators adhere to the wrong reading. 1483. Mokshartha is moksha-prayojanah. 1484. The argument contained in these verses is this: as thou dost not know what becomes of thy relatives when they die, thou canst not help them then. It seems plain, therefore, that when thou shalt die thy relatives will not be able to do thee any good. Hence, thou gainest nothing by bestowing thy thoughts on thy relatives, forgetting thy own great concern, viz., the acquisition of Emancipation. Similarly, when thy relatives live and suffer irrespective of thy life or death, and thou too must enjoy or endure irrespective of their existence or efforts, it is meant that thou shouldst not be forgetful of thy own highest good by busying thyself with the concerns of thy relatives. 1485. The sense is that one who takes only a handful of corn for the support of life even when millions upon millions of carts loaded with corn await his acceptance, is certainly to be regarded as freed. Literally rendered, the second line is--'who beholds a shed of bamboo or reeds in a palace,' meaning, of course, as put above, 'one who sees no difference between the two.' 1486. Avritti is want of the means of sustaining life: thence, scarcity or famine. 1487. The sense is that as the maintenance of wives and children is painful, one should withdraw from the world and retire into solitude. 1488. The sense seems to be this: Is it a life of domesticity that thou wouldst lead? There is no harm in thy doing this, provided thou behavest in the way pointed out. Is it Emancipation that thou wouldst pursue (in the usual way), i.e., by retiring into solitude and betaking thyself to Sannyasa? Thou mayst then behave in the way pointed out, and, indeed, that is the way of Sannyasa which leads to Emancipation. 1489. The planet Venus is supposed to be the sage Usanas or Sukra. 1490. The commentator explains the allusion by saying that formerly Vishnu, induced by the deities, used his discus for striking off the head of Usanas' mother. Hence the wrath of Usanas against the deities and his desire to succour their foes, the Danavas. 1491. The construction of this verse is very difficult. The order of the words, is--Indrotha jagatah prabhuh. Dhanada, etc., tasya kosasaya prabhavishnuh. 1492. Persons crowned with Yoga-success are competent to enter the bodies of others and deprive the latter of the power of will. Indeed, the belief is that the latter then become mere automata incapable of acting in any other way except as directed by the enlivening possessor. 1493. The etymology of Pinaka is panina anamayat. The initial and final letter of pani (pi) and the middle letter of anamayat (na), with the suffix ka make Pinaka. 1494. The last half of the last line may be taken as applying to Usanas. 1495. The vriddhim that Mahadeva saw could not be his own, for the greatest cannot be greater. The commentator, therefore, is right in holding that vriddhim refers to the greatness of Usanas within Mahadeva's stomach. 1496. The sa refers to Usanas and not to Mahadeva, as the commentator rightly points out. 1497. i.e., the religions of all the orders and all the modes of life. 1498. The scriptural injunctions are that one should sacrifice in honour of the gods, pour libations on the sacred fire, make gifts etc. In these exists Righteousness. 1499. The grammar of the third line is a little involved. Tasmin refers to Dharme. Supply nisthavantah after tasmin. The sense, of course, is that believing in the efficacy of righteousness, people of all modes of life accomplish the duties of their respective modes. 1500. The sinful become intermediate animals. The virtuous attain to heaven. They that are both virtuous and sinful attain to the status of humanity. They that acquire Knowledge become Emancipated. 1501. Destiny here means the result of the acts of past lives. 1502. The reading I adopt is jatikritam karma etc. Hence, this Verse also represents the arguments of the sceptic or the Charvakas. The four kinds of acts are Nitya, Naimittika, Kamya, and Nishiddha. If, however, for 'jatikritam karma, etc.,' the reading yantyakritam karma be adopted, the meaning would be--'In one's next life one does not meet with fruits that are not the results of one's acts of past life.' This must be so, for the opposite opinion would imply the destruction of acts and their consequences. Then again, such an opinion would conflict with the received opinion of mankind, for men, when they obtain the fruits of any act, always recollect the four kinds of acts of a past life for explaining the accession of those fruits. 1503. Verses 12 to 14 represent the theory of the sceptic, and I have rendered them as such. Only by reading verse 13 as 'yantyakritam karma, etc.,' the commentator points out that it may be taken as an observation of Parasara himself. As regards verse 15, it represents the ipse dixit of the speaker. He does not think that the sceptic is at all entitled to a reply. It is scarcely necessary to say that the Burdwan translator makes a thorough mess of these verses. K.P. Singha gives the substance correctly. 1504. The commentator shows that this is an answer to the sceptic's averment about Nature being the cause of everything. Fire is hot by nature, therefore, it does not become hot at one time, cold at another, and _lukewarm_ at another time. One becomes either wholly happy or wholly unhappy or wholly happy and unhappy at the same time. Man's nature should not be such. The difference of state is produced by difference of causes. 1505. A Brahmana is precluded from eating many things. Many things again that he is competent to eat on all days of the year. In fact, there are many rules for regulating the fare of a Brahmana. To this day, an orthodox Brahmana abstains from many kinds of food. A Brahmana, therefore, who is unscrupulous in respect of his food, is no Brahmana and deserves to be pitied. Similarly, a man who cooks food for himself is an object of pity. Raw food, such as fruits, etc., one may take without offering a share thereof to guests and others. But cooked food can never be taken without a share thereof being given to others. Yati cha Brahmachari cha pakvannaswaminavubhau, hence he that takes cooked food without giving a share to these is said to eat Brahmaswam or that which belongs to a Brahmana. 1506. This is a very abstruse verse. The grammatical construction of the first line is asritena manasa vrittihinasya seva sasyate. Asritena is niralamvanena. By seva is meant homage paid to the Supreme in the form of devotion and concentrated meditation. It implies, of course, a thorough reliance on God. Vrittihina is one who has cast off the means of livelihood, implying one who abstains from worldly objects. In the second line, dwija is a vocative. Nirvritta is nishpanna, qualifying seva. Atihastat is 'from one who has transcended the use of the hand,' i.e., the necessity of acts. Atihastanirvritta, means 'obtained from a competent preceptor.' In brief, what is stated here is that such seva should be learnt from competent preceptors and not by discussion among persons in the stage of spiritual progress. 1507. The object of this verse, the commentator points out, is to show the desirability of practising that seva soon or without loss of time. 1508. In the discourse of Sanatkumara to Vritra, these six colours have been mentioned, and the nature of the acts by which one attains to a superior colour or falls down from a superior to an inferior one. Vide Sec. 280, ante. 1509. A particular kind of Chandala is called kusalin. 1510. Pratyapannasya is viparita-drishteh. Natma is dehadih. Tatah is papaddhetoh. Virochate, is viseshena atmatwena rochate. 1511. Pratyapattih is Vairagyam or Renunciation. As regards Prasthitasya it may be taken either as implying one that is dead or one that has betaken himself to Yoga. In the latter case, the verse would mean that that man who betakes himself to Yoga without adopting Renunciation meets with much sorrow. 1512. The object of this verse is to show that conscious sin can never be destroyed by expiation. The only means by which sin can be destroyed is by enduring its fruits. 1513. The Burdwan translator makes utter nonsense of this verse. Guna-yuktam is explained by the commentator as equivalent to punyakarma. Prakasam is equivalent to budhipurvakam prakasya or jnatwa. It is formed by the suffix namul. 1514. Yathatatham is sthula-sukshma-taratamyena. The sense is that all acts done knowingly produce fruits according to their nature. If gross, the fruits produced are gross; if subtile, the fruits produced are subtile. 1515. The speaker's opinion is that all acts are productive of fruits. If good, the fruits are good. If bad, the fruits are bad. There is this difference, however, between acts done knowingly and those done in ignorance: the former produce commensurate fruits i.e., if gross, their fruits are gross; if subtile, the fruits are subtile; but the latter produce fruits that are not so, so that even if heinous, the fruits do not involve a large but only a small measure of misery. There is no other difference between the two kinds of acts. 1516. The object of this verse is to show that such acts form the exception and they are kept out of my sight in this discourse on acts. The Rishi Viswamitra caused the death of the hundred sons of Vasishtha, and yet he had not to go to hell for it. 1517. The sense seems to be that when even such near relatives are cast off if found to be wanting in affection, the fact cannot be gainsaid that people never do good to others except when they hope to benefit themselves by such acts. 1518. What is intended to be said is that the acceptance of a gift from a superior person is equal in point of merit to a gift made by a poor person. A wealthy man, by making a gift, earns greater merit than by accepting a gift. 1519. i.e., by Dhyana and Dharana. 1520. This has reference to Usanas' attaining to the status of a planet (Venus) in the firmament. 1521. Nadantah is one word. It means Hinsa-sunyah. Danti cchinatti iti danta. Its reverse is Nadantah. 1522. Nirdishta refers to Seva. 1523. i.e., they take the hues of the society they keep. Hence, it is very desirable for them to live with the good. 1524. This son of Dhatri is the god of the clouds. 1525. The Burdwan translator gives a most ridiculous version of the expression Dhigdandasasanah. Unable to catch the sense, which however is certainly very plain, he actually interprets the words to mean 'living under the sway of king Dhigdanda.' K.P. Singha gives the correct meaning. 1526. In this verse also, the Burdwan translator takes Dhigdanda as the name of a king. He gives an equally ridiculous version of the second line. Abhyagachchan is explained by the commentator as having vishayan understood after it. The sense is that they began to enjoy all objects of the senses to an excess. Both Devan and Brahman are accusatives governed by Avamanya. K.P. Singha translates both the lines correctly. 1527. This verse is taken as a metaphorical statement. The three Asuras are, of course, Kama, Krodha, and Lobha. Gaganagah (staying in the firmament) is interpreted as 'existing in Maya'. Sapurah as 'with their gross, subtile, and potential forms;' 'felled on the earth is explained as 'merged into the pure chit.' The whole is taken to imply a spiritual destruction of all the evil passions and a restoration of man to his original state of purity. 1528. This chief of the Asura passions was Mahamoha or great Heedlessness. The word Devas here is taken to mean the senses. Of course, if verse 16 be not taken metaphorically, then may Devas be taken in its ordinary sense of the deities. 1529. The genius of the two languages being different, it is very difficult to render the phraseology of the first line. Literally rendered, the line would read 'they remain or stay on those acts, and establish them.' Besides being unidiomatic, the sentence would be unmeaning. 'To stay or remain on any act' is to adhere to it. 'To establish it' is to regard it as a precedent and cause it to be regarded by others as a precedent. 1530. Samsiddhadhigamam is explained by the commentator thus: Samsiddhah is nityasiddah, i.e., atman; tadadhigamam is atmajnanam. 1531. The very gods are subject to prosperity and adversity, and their effects of loves and hates. There is no mode of life in which these may not be found. 1532. After sukham supply bhavati or some such verb. Tyajatam stands by itself and refers to kamya karma, meaning they that abstain from such acts as are not nitya but as are only kamya or optional. 1533. The sense is that those who betake themselves to penances as the consequence of despair, are many. Those men, however, are very rare who adopt penances, being at once impressed that the happiness of domesticity is unreal and ends in misery. 1534. i.e., their penances of past lives. 1535. I am not sure that I have correctly understood the second line of this verse. Akrita-karmanam is explained by the commentator as anut-pannatattwajnanam and upabhogavarityagah is Renunciation or Vairagyam phalani has tapasah understood before it. But why phalani instead of phalam? 1536. The second line of this verse concludes the argument. The tasmat has reference to all the statements before, and _not_ to only the first line of 26. The statement in the second line is the same as the second line of verse 13 above. 1537. I expand the second line a little for making it intelligible. 1538. By 'stainless penances' is meant nishkamam tapah or penances undertaken without desire of fruit. 1539. Tyaktwa has nishkalmasham tapah understood after it. The order of the words is Phalarthi apriyani etc., vishyatmakam tat phalam prapnoti. The distinction between nishkamam and sakamam tapah is this; through the former one attains to happiness. Even the earthly wealth he earns becomes fraught with happiness; through the latter, however, one meets with diverse kinds of sorrow resulting from the earthly possessions he succeeds in obtaining. 1540. The grammar of the first line is this: Dharme tapasi dane cha (sati avihitakarme) vidhitsa, etc. If vidhitsa be taken with 'dharma, etc.,' the verse would be unmeaning. 1541. The first line is difficult to construe. Tatah means 'inconsequence of the pain that attends the gratification of the senses.' Sarvasya refers to vivekinah; jyayase phalartham is 'for the sake of the highest fruit,' which, of course, is Emancipation. Gunah is 'same', 'dama, etc.' 1542. The commentator points out that the object of this verse is to show that everything one owns or does is not the result of the past acts. Spouses, food, drink, etc., one obtains as the result of past acts or praravdha karma. In respect of these, purushakara or Exertion is weak. Hence, to put forth Exertion for their acquisition would not be wise. As regards the acquisition of righteousness, however, there Exertion is efficacious. Hence, one should, with Exertion, seek to conform to one's own duties as laid down in the scriptures. Without such a distinction between destiny (praravdha) and Exertion (purushakara), the injunctions and interdictions of the Scriptures would be unmeaning. The Burdwan translator, citing portions of the commentary without at all understanding them, makes utter nonsense of the verse. K.P. Singha gives the meaning correctly. 1543. Sacrifices and all other acts undertaken from a sense of vanity, are destructible as regards their consequences, for heaven is terminable. Penances, however, that are undertaken without desire of fruit are not so, for these lead to Emancipation. Tesham refers to those mentioned in the first line of verse 37. It should not be taken to mean men in general, as the Burdwan translator wrongly does. 1544. Kam is Brahmanam. The commentator explains that Brahmana (the Creator) is equivalent to Brahmana; and that Vishnu is equivalent to Kshatriya. What is said, therefore, in this verse (according to him) is that a Sudra, by practising the common duties of all the four orders, succeeds in his next life in becoming a Brahmana. Thus say Brahmanas learned in the scriptures; but the opinion of Parasara is that such a Sudra, in his next life, takes birth as a Kshatriya. 1545. I am not sure that I have understood these two verses correctly. Verse 33 is evidently a cruce. 1546. Yathakarman means 'from one stage to another.' Karmapatham is yogam. The stages here referred to are vichara, vitarka, Ananda, and Asmita. What is stated in this verse is that one who casts off all attachments, and who devotes himself to Yoga, succeeds in attaining to the felicity of Emancipation. 1547. The Burdwan translator wrongly renders the second line of this verse. All the texts read this line in the same way. 1548. Snigdhais implies affectionate seniors such as mothers, etc.; karmani is explained by the Commentator as abhyanga-karmani, i.e., the rubbing of oil, etc., Such acts, when children are ill, are often done unto them by mothers. This is forbidden, for they are menial offices which seniors should never be permitted to perform. 1549. Vinasamabhikankhatam is explained in the alternative by the commentator in a very fanciful way. Kriyavatam is explained as 'observant of the duties of Tirthavasins.' 1550. The commentator is for explaining the second line exoterically. 1551. Dehat is Deham prapya. Yena is yena pumsa. Upapaditam has reference to panchatwam in the previous verse. The sense of the verse is this: he who meets with a sudden death in a tirtha or sacred place, does not become emancipated but obtains another body in his next life similar to the one he loses. Adhyanam gatakah is that though set or placed on the path of Emancipation, yet he becomes a traveller: his state is due to the inglorious manner of his dissolution. 1552. The object of this verse is to show that the man dying in a sacred place becomes reborn as a Rudra or a Pisacha and quickly attains to Emancipation in consequence of his contiguity to Siva. Mokshabhuteshu is Moksha-yogyeshu. The neuter form of taddeham is arsha. 1553. Gunanancha in the second line of verse 14 refers to the objects of the senses, which, as explained in previous Sections, have no independent existence, for they exist only as they exist in desire. The compound of the primal essences and the other things mentioned assumes different shapes through the force of the desires of previous lives. 1554. Acts are all perishable in respect of their consequences. 1555. It is difficult to give foreigners an idea of what is called Apamrityu. All deaths that are caused by such accidents as involve ignominy are called Apamrityu. Death from snake-bite, from a fall, by drowning, at the horns of an animal, etc., are instances of Apamrityu. 1556. Both yasya and sa refer to the foe called Ignorance. Rajaputra is a vocative. Paraiti is nasyati. 1557. Vanchate is preceded by kamena understood. 1558. It has been explained in previous sections that sreyas or nisreyas means good or excellent as applied to moral merit. 1559. By buddhiman is meant the man who is freed from attachment. Similarly, by durbuddhih is meant the man who is the slave of attachments. 1560. Karanapekshi is thus explained by the commentator: karanaphaladanatmika kriya tannirvittyapekshi. The sense is that sin can never be destroyed except by endurance of its fruits. 1561. The sense is that after the manner of the fabulous gem, Jiva attracts to itself, through Yoga, the status of Brahma. 1562. The Burdwan translator, without understanding the commentary, makes utter nonsense of this verse. K.P. Singha is not far wrong, but he does not bring out the principal point which is sought to be inculcated here. Sesame seeds are repeatedly mixed with fragrant oil. The more they are so mixed the more fragrant do they become. After the same manner, men acquire the quality of Sattwa by associating with persons of cleansed souls. The measure of Sattwa is dependent on the measure of the association. 1563. The track is that of Knowledge. Vide verse 3 above. 1564. Having used the words vistaran (Diverse) and samkshepah (Few), in the second line of this triplet, the speaker explains their meaning in the third. By 'Diverse' is meant all those fruits that consist of unstable enjoyments; hence, the diverse acts laid down in the Vedas and other scriptures. By 'Few' is meant Renunciation, or abstention from acts. What is said, therefore, in this verse is this: they that betake themselves to acts, which for their fruits all sorts of enjoyment, meet with misery; while they that abstain from acts or practise Renunciation meet with happiness. Both the vernacular versions are incorrect. 1565. It is difficult to understand what is meant by this verse. By progress in Yoga, the Soul can certainly cast off the mind and other attributes by which it is invested. The simile is unintelligible. The stalk of the lotus has its roots in mire. Does the first line mean, therefore, that the stalk speedily springs upwards and leaves the mire at its roots? 1566. The commentator explains that the intention of this verse is to explain that the universe which is created by the mind is destroyed afterwards by the mind itself. 1567. The sense is that one who has cast off objects of enjoyment and become emancipated, does not obtain rebirth. 1568. I follow the commentator in his exposition of this verse. The practice of fishermen (in India) is to sink their boats when they leave them for their homes, and to raise them again when they require them the next day. They do not leave their boats afloat for fear of the injury the waves may do to them by tossing them too much. 1569. By Prakriti here is meant the harmony of Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas. As long as these three qualities are in harmony with one another, i.e., as long as there is no preponderance in any of them over the other two, so long there cannot be creation or the operations of the buddhi or understanding. 1570. In this verse the word Prakriti is used in an entirely different sense. It means here Ignorance. 1571. Sariragriha-sanjnasya is 'of one who regards his body to be an accompaniment of the Soul instead of regarding it to be the Soul.' 'Who regards purity as its sacred water', i.e., who, without resorting to the sacred waters whither others go for cleansing themselves, thinks that purity, both internal and external, is capable of cleansing him. 1572. Vide note to verse 21 above. 1573. The object of the verse is to show that one should not, for the sake of friends and kinsmen and spouses and children, abstain from pursuing one's true end. The practice of charity again is the true diet which supports a man. 1574. Astapadapada is a weight of gold. The word, as used in this verse, means a quantity of gold. Whether the reading be mudreva or sutrena, the sense remains unchanged. What is said here is that the mother, etc., are like lines traced with gold by the side of real gold; i.e., the mother, etc., are of no value or use in the acquisition of prosperity. K.P. Singha misses the meaning. The Burdwan translator, however, makes a most ridiculous exhibition of himself. Without understanding the commentary at all, in fact, not having been able to read the words of the commentary aright, he has produced a ridiculous jargon that is utterly unintelligible. Daksha is a vocative, meaning 'possessed of cleverness.' The words he daksha yatha, etc., of the commentator are read by the Burdwan Pundit as: deha-kshaya, etc. 1575. Apariharavan is incapable of being resisted. Samagatih as wind. Asmasara-vihitam is 'made by means of iron or the saw.' Asmasara stands here for krakacha or karapatra. 1576. The commentator explains that by tapah is meant the practice or observance of one's own duties. Damah is restraining the senses. Satyam is truthfulness of speech, and atmaguptih is subjugation of the mind. The knots are attachments and desires, etc. 1577. i.e., the assailant, finding his victim forgiving, himself burns with repentance. 1578. Vishayena yami is the correct reading; i.e., then here is palatal, and vishayena is in the instrumental case. The Bengal reading is vicious, for it reads Vishaye nayami. 1579. The Moon is endued with nectar, and, therefore, might have been such a man's equal; but the Moon waxes and wanes; therefore, the Moon cannot approach to an equality with such a man who is the same under all changes. Similarly, the wind, though unstained by the dust it bears is not the equal of such a man; for the wind is changeful, having slow, middling and quick motion. The Burdwan translator makes utter nonsense of the reference to the Moon and the wind. K.P. Singha gives the sense correctly. 1580. The commentator explains that the object of this verse is to show the merits of that man whose ignorance has disappeared. 1581. i.e., when Brahmanas incur obloquy they are said to become impure; they are again regarded as possessing the status of humanity only because they die. 1582. The examples of Viswamitra and others may be cited in this instance. 1583. Dharana is holding the soul in self-reflection, preventing it the while from wandering. Samadhi is complete abstraction. 1584. Akhandam is Sarvakalam; uposhya is tyaktwa. K.P. Singha wrongly translates this verse. He takes mansam for masam; but no difference of reading occurs between the Bengal and Bombay texts. 1585. The ten properties included in Sattwa or Goodness are gladness, cheerfulness, enthusiasm, fame, righteousness, contentment, faith, sincerity, liberality, and lordship. The nine properties included in Rajas or Passion are belief in the deities, (ostentatious) charity, enjoyment and endurance of happiness and sorrow, disunion, exhibition of manliness, lust and wrath, intoxication, pride, malice, and disposition to revile. The eight qualities included in Tamas or Darkness are unconsciousness, stupefaction, excess of stupefaction, muddiness of the understanding, blindness (of results), sleep, heedlessness, and procrastination. The seven incidents of Buddhi or the Understanding are Mahat, consciousness, and the five subtile essences. The six incidents of Mind are Mind and the five senses. The five incidents appertaining to Space are space, water, wind, light, and earth. According to a different school of philosophy, Buddhi, or the Understanding is said to have four incidents appertaining to it, viz., doubt, ascertainment, pride, and memory. Tamas (darkness) also is otherwise regarded to have only three incidents, viz., inability of comprehension, partial comprehension, and totally erroneous comprehension. Rajas (Passion) is (according to this school) regarding as having only the two incidents of inclination (to act) and sorrow. Sattwa has but one incident viz., Enlightenment. 1586. 'Durga' is an inaccessible region such as a forest or wilderness which cannot be passed through except with great pain and danger. 1587. The correct reading seems to be sthira-vratati-samkulam. 1588. Udadhi is, literally, a water-jar. In this country most people, while swimming, use water jars as buoys. The mouth of jar being dipped into the water the air confined within it serve to support heavy weights. I have heard that the most rapid currents are crossed by milkmaids in this way, all the while bearing milk pails on their heads. 1589. In the second line of 72, dustaram janma means janma-yuktam dustaram. 1590. The sense seems to be that by practising the Sankhya doctrine men cease to have any regard for even their gross bodies. They succeed in realising their existence as independent of all earthly or heavenly objects. What is meant by the Sun bearing them in his rays and conveying to them all things from every part of the universe is that these men acquire great puissance. This is not the puissance of Yoga but of knowledge. Everything being regarded as unsubstantial and transitory, the position of Indra himself, or of Brahman, is looked upon as desirable and unworthy of acquisition. Sincere conviction of this kind and the course of conduct that is confirmable to it is literally puissance of the highest kind, for all the purposes of puissance are capable of being served by it. 1591. This is taken as meaning that the Sankhyas are conveyed to the firmament of the heart. Perhaps, what is intended by it is that they become withdrawn from external objects and even the impressions of all external things. 1592. Perhaps, this means the pleasures of heaven. 1593. i.e., they who have identified themselves with Brahma. 1594. Yudhishthira's question seems to be this. Is there or is there not consciousness in the emancipate state? Different scriptures answer this question differently. If it be said that there is consciousness in that state, then why discard heaven and its pleasures, or the religion of Pravritti or acts which lead to those pleasures? Where is the necessity then of Sannyasa or the religion of Nivritti or abstention from all acts? On the supposition of there being consciousness in the emancipate state, the Religion of Pravritti should be taken as superior. If, on the other hand, the existence of consciousness be denied, that would be an error. Dnkshataram is ayuktaram. 1595. Although I make use of the word 'perceive' yet remembering that the mind is included among the senses and regarded as the sixth sense, the functions of recollection, representation, etc., are also implied by the word pasyati. The Burdwan translator gives a ridiculously erroneous version of this verse. 1596. The commentator explains that the simile of the froth is introduced in consequence of its disappearance with the disappearance of water. K. P. Singha is incorrect in taking the instance of froth as illustrative of the quickness of the destruction. 1597. Sarvatra does not mean 'through every part of the sleeper's body' as K. P. Singha takes it, but sarvavishaye as the commentator correctly explains it. 1598. Iha is sapne Anisah is nasti isah or pravartaah yasya. 1599. For the Soul, in dreams, sees and hears and touches and smells etc., precisely as it does while awake. 1600. The sense seems to be that a person who becomes emancipate in this life becomes so in Samadhi. When the state of Samadhi is over, his mind and senses return; and returning they do the bidding of the Supreme, i.e., bring about both happiness and misery, which, of course, are the consequences of the acts of past lives though that happiness and misery are not felt. In the next verse is said that these men very soon leave their bodies and become freed from rebirth. 1601. There are two kinds of Emancipation: one is attainable here, in this body, it is Jivan-mukti; the other is Videha-kaivalya or that which becomes one's when one is bodiless. In 98, Jivan-mukti has been spoken of. In this verse, the observations apply to Videha-kaivalya. 1602. Vadanti is stuvanti. Such men hymn its praises by regarding it as Supreme Deity possessed of attributes. Those attributes, of course, are the result of illusion, for in its real nature there can be no attributes in Brahma. 1603. Brahma is knowledge without duality i.e., knowledge without the consciousness of knower and known. The knowledge or cognition of an object, when object is annihilated, assumes the form of that knowledge which is called Brahma. 1604. The commentator explains that the object of this verse is to show that among mobile creatures those endued with knowledge are superior, and among all kinds of knowledge, the knowledge occurring in the Sankhya system is the highest. 1605. i.e., if in consequence of any defect of practice or Sadhana, the Sankhyas fail to attain to Emancipation, they at least become translated into gods. 1606. i.e., it is everything. 1607. That Narayana who does all this is the embodiment of the Sankhya system. 1608. The commentator explains the compound Adhyatmagatinischayam differently. 1609. Both the vernacular translator render this verse wrongly. 1610. Vasyante is explained by the commentator as implying Brahmanah ante and not 'at the end of that night'. The line occurs in Manu (Chap. 1. 74) where ante refers to Brahmana's day and night. Vasishtha here refers to Mohapralaya and not any intermediate Pralaya. 1611. In the creation of Mahan or Prajapati or Virat, and of Consciousness, the element of Tamas or ignorance predominates. 1612. This is a very abstruse verse. I am not sure that I have understood it correctly, What is said here seems to be this from Akshara arose Hiranyagarbha: from Hiranyagarbha arose Virat. This, that or the other is worshipped by ordinary men, while persons possessed of real insight do not invest any of them with attributes worthy of worship. The speaker says that the ascription of attributes, called Ignorance, and the non-ascription for destruction of that ascriptions called Knowledge, (with respect to Virat or Hiranyagarbha or Akshara) then arose. It might be asked that when there were no men as yet to worship or to condemn such worship, how could the two arise? The answer is that the two, in their subtile forms, came into existence and were afterwards availed of by men when men come into being. 1613. From Akshara or the Indestructible is Hiranyagarbha. From Hiranyagarbha is Mahan or Virat and Consciousness. From the last are the subtile elements. 1614. The meanings of such verses depend upon the grammatical significations of certain words that are used. They can scarcely be rendered accurately into any other language not derived from Sanskrit. What is said here is that it is Prakriti which must be said to be the Adhishthatri of the universe. Vishnu is not so. Vishnu, Brahma, Akshara, or the Indestructible, however, is said to cover or _pervade_ the universe (vyapnoti). Vishnu is Vyapka but not Adhishthatri. 1615. In the previous section it has been said that through Tamas he takes birth among the intermediate orders, through Rajas among human beings, and through Sattwa among gods. The root kshi in Gunakshayat means aisarvya or puissance. 1616. The soul weaves a cocoon with attributes (or, acts which result from attributes), and though free deprives himself of freedom. 1617. Made of Chit and Not-Chit combined. 1618. The sense seems to be that the obligation to explain a treatise in the midst of a conclave always stimulates the best faculties, and if it is a conclave of the learned the friction of intellects is sure to bring out the correct sense. 1619. For enables them to conquer Ignorance. 1620. When Pranayama is performed with the aid of mantras or yapa, it is said to be saguna or sagarbha or endued with substance. Concentration of mind, however, is made without the aid of such yapa. 1621. The two and twenty sanchodans of Preranas are the two and twenty modes of transmitting the Prana breath from the toe of the foot to the crown of the head. That which transcends Prakriti is the Supreme Soul. 1622. The reading I adopt is na-kathyate. 1623. Atmanah is Iswarat parah. 1624. Parisankhyadarsanam is explained by the commentator thus: Parisankhyanam, is parivarianam, i.e., the gradual pravilapam of errors; Lena darsanam or sakshatkaram. 1625. The commentator explains that nistattwah means nirgatam tattwam aparoksham yasmat. 1626. Param Aparam, and Avyayam are theirs in consequence of Ajksharabhavatwa. Aparam means satyakamatwa, satyasamkalpatwa, etc. i.e., puissance. Param is the indescribable felicity of Samadhi. The Srutis declare that knower of Brahma becomes Brahma. 1627. Hence, as the commentator explains, by knowing what is called the Unmanifest one is capable of attaining to omniscience. 1628. What is stated here is this, the Unmanifest or Prakriti, by modification, produces Mahat and the other principles. But the agency of Purusha also is necessary for such production, for Prakriti can do nothing without Purusha, and Purusha also can do nothing without Prakriti. The principles of Mahat and the rest, therefore, may be said to have their origin as much in Purusha as in Prakriti. Beside, the two being naturally dependent on each other, if Prakriti be called Kshara, Purusha also may be so called. 1629. i.e., Jiva or Purusha. 1630. High, such as gods, middling, such as human beings and low, such as animals. 1631. Budha is Bodha or pure Knowledge. Abudha is the reverse of Budha. The Supreme Soul is Knowledge, while Jiva is Ignorance. 1632. In consequence of Jiva's union with or attachment to Prakriti. Jiva takes this object for a vessel; that for a mountain, and that other for a third. When knowledge comes, Jiva succeeds in understanding that all his impressions are erroneous and that the external world is only a modification of Self. In consequence of Jiva's capacity to comprehend this, he is called Budhyamana or Comprehender. 1633. Drisya and Adrisya, are the Seen and the Unseen, that is the gross and the subtile, or effects and causes. Swabhavena anugatam is inhering (unto all of them,) in its own nature, that is, Brahma pervades all things and unites with them without itself being changed as regards its own nature. Vudyate has manishibhih understood it. 1634. Tattwa is explained by the commentator as anaropitaruom, i.e., invested with any form in consequence of Ignorance; Not-Tattwa is nityaparoksham i.e., always within the ken of the understanding. 1635. That indication is 'I am Brahma.' Such conviction or knowledge even which characterises those that are awakened or Buddha, is cast off by the twenty-sixth. 1636. These examples are often used to explain the difference between the Jiva-soul and the Supreme Soul. The Udumvara is the fruit of the Ficus glomerate. When ripe and broken, the hollow centre is seen to contain many full-grown gnats. The gnat lives in the fruit but is not the fruit, just as the fish though living in the water is not the water that is its home. Jiva, after the same way, though living in the Supreme Soul, is not the Supreme Soul. 1637. Parah is Anyah or Chidatman. Paradharma means 'partaking' of the nature of Kshetra in which he resides. Sameyta is 'kshetrena iva ekebhya.' 1638. This is a simile very often used for illustrating the danger of pursuing objects of the senses. Collectors of honey used to rove over mountains, guided by the sight of flying bees. These men frequently met with death from falls from precipices. 1639. The Burdwan translator renders this verse incorrectly. 1640. This has been repeatedly laid down in the Hindu scriptures. Gifts produce no merit unless made to deserving persons. If made to the undeserving, instead of ceasing to produce any merit, they become positively sinful. The considerations of time and place also are to be attended to. By failing to attend to them, sin is incurred where merit is expected. Truth becomes as sinful as a lie, under particular circumstances; and a falsehood becomes as meritorious as truth under circumstances. The Hindu scriptures make circumstance the test of acts. 1641. These, including Mind, form the tale of sixteen called Vikriti or modifications of Prakriti. 1642. These are the subtile principles or Tanmatras and not the gross elements. 1643. Mahat is sometimes called Buddhi hence the creation of Consciousness from Mahat must be creation relating to Buddha. 1644. Arjjava mean 'relating to straight paths or courses,' so called from the straight course of these winds or breaths. By reference to these breaths is intended the other limbs of the physical system besides those already indicated. 1645. Rishi here means Mahan or Great. Consciousness is said to have an excellent essence, and is also a Bhuta because of its capacity to produce the Great Bhutas, five in number. 1646. These, the commentator explains, are Mind, Buddhi or Understanding Consciousness, and Chitwa, considered as Vyashti instead of as Samashthi. These are the sires of the primeval sires, i.e., from these sprung the Mahabhutas or Great creatures (viz., the five primal elements). 1647. Devah's is explained by the commentator as meaning the Senses and the four inner faculties. Devaih he thinks, refers to the Bhutas or Great elements. Literally rendered, the verse would read as 'the Devas are the Children of the Pitris; with the Devas, all the worlds of Mobile Being have been covered.' It is not safe to reject the learned commentator. 1648. These two verses refer to the power of the attributes of sound etc., over Jiva. Loves and hates, and all kinds of relationship of Jiva are due to the action of the attributes named. 1649. The duration here given has reference to the day and the night of the Mahabhutas. 1650. Prakritisthah means 'in his own Prakriti or nature.' The sense of the line is that Purusha, even when residing in the case that Prakriti provides him with, does not partake of the nature of Prakriti but continues to be undefiled by her. 1651. I expand this verse for bringing out the meaning. A verbal rendering will become unintelligible. 1652. This is a difficult verse, I am not sure that I have understood it correctly. The sense to be that Prakriti, which is really unintelligent and incapable of enjoyment or endurance, becomes intelligent and capable of enjoyment or endurance in consequence of being united with Purusha who is intelligent. Thus when pleasurable or painful sensation are felt, it is the body that seems to feel it only in consequence of the Soul that presides over it. 1653. The first line of 7 is the same in sense as the second line of 8. In the Bombay text, only the second line of 8 occurs, while the first line of 7 has been justly omitted. In fact, Tattwa and the Prakriti are the same thing. 1654. This refers to the opinion of the atheistic Sankhyas. 1655. By the word Rudra is meant Prana and the other breaths. The commentator explains that the etymology is utkramana kale dehinam rodayanti iti Rudrah Pranah. By regulating the vital breaths and the senses, Yogins attain to Yoga puissance and succeed in roving wherever they please in their linga-sarira or subtile bodies. 1656. The eight limbs of Yoga are Pranayama, Pratyahara, Dhyana, Dharana, Tarka, Samadhi, with the two additional ones of Yama and Niyama. 1657. In the first line of 9 the word Pranayama is used to mean regulation of the vital breaths. In the second line, the same word implies the ayamah or nigraha of the senses with the mind. By Dharana is meant the fixing of the mind, one after another, on the sixteen things named in treatises on Yoga. By ekagrata of the mind is meant that concentration in which there is no longer any consciousness of difference between Dhyatri, Dhyeya, and Dhyana. 1658. It is difficult for those who do not practise Pranayama to understand this fully. The fact is, Saguna Pranayama, when the breath is inhaled, the inhalation is measured by the time taken up in mentally reciting a well-known mantra. So when inhaled breath is suspended, the suspension is measured by the time taken in mentally reciting a particular mantra. When therefore, the suspended breath should be exhaled, it should be done by similarly measuring the time of exhaling. For beginners, this Saguna Pranayama is recommended. Of course only exhalation has been spoken of but it applies equally to inhalation and suspension. These three processes, in Yoga language, are Puraka, Kumbhaka, and Rechaka. 1659. Ekantasilin means a Sannyasin, Atmarama is one who takes pleasure in one's soul instead of in spouses and children. 1660. The pole-star. 1661. Chakre literally means 'I made'. The commentator explains it as equivalent to swayam avirbhut. 1662. Vipriya evidently means 'what is not agreeable.' There was evidently a dispute between Yajnavalkya and his maternal uncle Vaisampayana, the celebrated disciple of Vyasa. This dispute is particularly referred to in the next verse. Vaisampayana had been a recognised teacher of the Vedas and had collected a large number of disciples around him. When, therefore, the nephew Yajnavalkya, having obtaining the Vedas from Surya, began to teach them, he was naturally looked upon with a jealousy, which culminated (as referred to in the next verse) into an open dispute about the Dakshina to be appropriated in the Sacrifice of Janaka. The Burdwan translator incorrectly renders the word vipriya which he takes to mean as 'very agreeable.' In the Vishnu Purana it is mentioned that a dispute took place between Yajnavalkya and Paila. The latter's preceptor, Vyasa, came, and taking his side, asked Yajnavalkya to return him the Vedas which he had obtained from him. Yajnavalkya vomited forth the Vedas. These were instantly devoured by two other Rishis in the form of Tittiri birds. These afterwards promulgated the Taittiriya Upanishads. 1663. This shows that I was then regarded as the equal of Vaisampayana himself in the matter of Vedic knowledge. Sumanta and Paila and Jaimini, with Vaisampayana, were the Rishis that assisted the great Vyasa in the task of arranging the Vedas. 1664. This is called the fourth science, the three others being the three Vedas, Axis culture, and the science of morality and chastisement. 1665. Prakriti is regarded as something in which Sattwa, Rajas, and Tamas reside in exactly equal proportion. All the principles of Mahat, etc. which flow from Prakriti, are characterised by these three attributes in diverse measure. 1666. By Mitra is meant here the deity giving light and heat. By Varuna is meant the waters that compose the universe. 1667. Kah, the commentator explained, is anandah or felicity. 1668. The comparison lies in the folly of the two persons indicated. One churning ass's milk for butter is only a fool. Similarly, one failing to understand the nature of Prakriti and Purusha from the Vedas is only a fool. 1669. Gives a literal rendering of this verse for showing how difficult it is to understand the meaning. The commentator correctly explains the sense which is as follows: anyah or the other is the Soul as distinguished from its reflection upon Prakriti, that is the Soul in its real character as independent of Prakriti. What is said here is that when the Soul, in its real character beholds, or acts as a witness of everything (i.e., as exists in the states of wakefulness and dream), becomes conscious of both itself (the Twenty-fifth) and Prakriti (the Twenty-fourth) when, however, it ceases to behold or act as such witness (i.e., in the state of dreamless slumber of Yoga-samadhi), it succeeds in beholding the Supreme Soul or the Twenty-sixth. In simple language what is said here is that the Soul becomes conscious of both itself and Prakriti in the state of wakefulness and dream. In Samadhi alone, it beholds the Supreme Soul. 1670. What is said here is that the Twenty-sixth or the Supreme Soul always beholds the Twenty-fifth or the Jiva-soul. The latter, however, filled with vanity, regards that there is nothing higher than it. It can easily, in Yoga-samadhi, behold the Twenty-sixth. Though thus competent to behold the Supreme Soul, it fails ordinarily to behold it. The commentator sees in this verse a repudiation of the doctrine of the Charvakas and the Saugatas who deny that there is a Twenty-sixth Tattwa or even a Twenty-fifth which they identify with the Twenty-fourth. 1671. Tatsthanat is explained by the commentator as Varasya avaradhisrhanat, i.e., in consequence of vara overlying the avara. The instance of the string and the snake is cited. At first the string is erroneously taken for the snake. When the error is dispelled, the string appears as the string. Thus the Supreme and the Jiva-soul come to be taken as one when true knowledge comes. 1672. The ordinary doctrine is that the Jiva-soul is indestructible, for it is both unborn and deathless, its so called births and deaths being only changes of the forms which Prakriti undergoes in course of her association with it, an association that continues as long as the Jiva-soul does not succeed in effecting its emancipation. In this verse the ordinary doctrine is abandoned. What is said here is that the Jiva-soul is _not_ deathless, for when it becomes identified with the Supreme Soul, that alteration may be taken as its death. 1673. This is a very difficult verse. Pasya and apasya are drashtri and drisya, i.e., knower and known (or Soul and Prakriti) Kshemaya and Tattwo are drik and drisya, i.e., knowledge and known. One that sees no difference between these that is, one that regards all things as one and the same, is both Kevala and not-Kevala, etc, meaning that such a person, though still appearing as a Jiva (to others) is in reality identifiable with the Supreme Soul. 1674. This may mean that as men speak, and as speech is Brahma, all men must be regarded as utterers of Brahma. If, again, Brahma be taken to mean the Vedas in special, it may imply that all men utter the Vedas or are competent to study the Vedas. Such an exceedingly liberal sentiment from the mouth of Yajnavalkya is compatible only with the religion of Emancipation which he taught. 1675. The doctrine is that unless acts are destroyed, there can be no Emancipation. 1676. Literally, 'these are not obstacles by external nature,' and are therefore irremovable by personal exertion of the ordinary kind. 1677. Sanchodayishyanti implies questioned. Here it means questioning the king internally or by Yoga power. 1678. Utsmayan is explained by the Commentators as 'priding himself upon his own invincibleness.' Ayaya bhavam implies her determination to make the king dumb. Visesayan is abhibhavan. 1679. Sammantum is explained by the Commentator as equivalent to samyak jnatum. 1680. It is difficult to say in what sense the word vaiseshikam is used here. There is a particular system of philosophy called Vaiseshika or Kanada; the system believed to have been originally promulgated by a Rishi of the name of Kanada. That system has close resemblance to the atomic theory of European philosophers. It has many points of striking resemblance with Kapila's system or Sankhya. Then, again, some of the original principles, as enunciated in the Sankhya system, are called by the name of Visesha. 1681. The mention of Vidhi indicated, as the commentator explains, Karmakanda. The value of Karma in the path of Emancipation is to purify the Soul. 1682. K. P. Singha wrongly translates this verse. 1683. There is equal reason in taking up etc., implies that the bearing of the sceptre is only a mode of life like that of holders of the triple-stick. Both the king and the Sannyasin are free to acquire knowledge and both, therefore, may attain to Emancipation notwithstanding their respective emblems. In the emblems themselves there is no efficacy or disqualification. 1684. The object of this verse is to show that all persons, led by interest, become attached to particular things. The littleness or greatness of those things cannot aid or bar people's way to Emancipation. 'I may be a king, says Janaka, and thou mayst be a mendicant. Neither thy mendicancy nor my royalty can aid or obstruct our Emancipation. Both of us, by Knowledge, can achieve what we wish, notwithstanding our outward surroundings.' 1685. Hence, by changing my royal life for that of a bearer of the triple-stick I can gain nothing. 1686. Yukte in the first line means in the Yogin. The Bombay reading Tridandanke is a mistake for Tridandakam. The Bombay text reads na muktasyasti gopana, meaning that 'there is no relief for one that has fallen down after having arisen in Yoga.' The Bengal text reads vimuktasya. I adopt the Bengal reading. 1687. What the king says is that he, the king, had made no assignation with the lady is consequence of which she could be justified in entering his body. The word Sannikarsha here means sanketa. Both the vernacular translators render this word wrongly. 1688. These faults and merits are set forth in the verses that follow. 1689. Saukshmyam, is literally minuteness. It means ambiguity here. I have rendered verse 81 very closely to give the reader an idea of the extreme terseness of these verses. For bringing out the meaning of the verse, the following illustration may serve. A sentence is composed containing some words each of which is employed in diverse senses, as the well-known verse of Parasara which has been interpreted to sanction the remarriage of Hindu widows. Here, the object indicated by the words used are varied. Definite knowledge of the meaning of each word is arrived at by means of distinctions, i.e., by distinguishing each meaning from every other. In such cases, the understanding before arriving at the definite meaning, rests in succession upon diverse points, now upon one, now upon another. Indeed, the true meaning is to be arrived at in such cases by a process of elimination. When such processes become necessary and or seizing the sense of any sentence, the fault is said to be the fault of minuteness or ambiguity. 1690. To take the same example; first take the well-known words of Parasara as really sanctioning the remarriage of widows. Several words in the verse would point to this meaning, several others would not. Weighing probabilities and reasons, let the meaning be tentatively adopted that second husbands are sanctioned by the Rishi for the Hindu widow. This is Sankhya. 1691. Having tentatively adopted the meaning the second husbands are sanctioned by the verse referred to, the conclusion should be either its acceptance or rejection. By seeing the incompatibility of the tentative meaning with other settled conclusions in respect of other texts or other writers, the tentative meaning is capable of being rejected, and the final conclusion arrived at, to the effect, that the second husband is to be taken only according to the Niyoga-vidhi and not by marriage. 1692. By prayojanam is meant the conduct one pursues for gratifying one's wish to acquire or avoid any object. Wish, in respect of either acquisition or avoidance, if ungratified, becomes a source of pain. The section or conduct that one adopts for removing that pain is called Prayojanam. In the Gautama-sutras it is said that yamarthamadhikritya pravartate, tat prayojanam. The two definitions are identical. 1693. By occurrence of these five characteristics together is meant that when these are properly attended to by a speaker or writer, only then can his sentence be said to be complete and intelligible. In Nyaya philosophy, the five requisites are Pratijna, Hetu, Udaharana, Upanaya, and Nigamana. In the Mimansa philosophy, the five requisites have been named differently. Vishaya, Samsaya, Purvapaksha, Uttara, and Nirnaya. 1694. These characteristics, the commentator points out, though numbering sixteen, include the four and twenty mentioned by Bhojadeva in his Rhetoric called Saraswati-kanthabharana. 1695. Parartham means, as the commentator explains, of excellent sense. It does not mean Paraprayojanam as wrongly rendered by the Burdwan translator. The latter's version of the text is thoroughly unmeaning. 1696. What Sulabha says here is this: the great primal elements are the same whether they make up this body or that other body; and then it is the same Chit that pervades every combination of the great elements. The object of this observation is to show that Janaka should not have asked these questions about Sulabha, he and she being essentially the same person. To regard the two as different would indicate obscuration of vision. 1697. What is meant by this is that when creatures are said to possess more of sattwa and less of sattwa, sattwa seems to be a principle that is existent in the constitutions of creatures. 1698. By the word Kala is meant the 16 principles beginning with Prana. What is intended to be said is that as long as the principle of Desire exists, rebirth becomes possible. The universe, therefore, rests on the principle of Desire or Vasana. The senses, etc. all arise from this principle of Vasana. 1699. By Vidhi is meant that righteousness and its reverse which constitute the seed of Desire. By Sukra is meant that which helps that seed to grow or put forth its rudiments. By Vala is meant the exertion that one makes for gratifying one's desire. 1700. The fact then of continual change of particles in the body was well-known to the Hindu sages. This discovery is not new of modern physiology. Elsewhere it has been shown that Harvey's great discovery about the circulation of the blood was not unknown to the Rishis. 1701. The instance mentioned for illustrating the change of corporal particles is certainly a very happy one. The flame of a burning lamp, though perfectly steady (as in a breezeless spot), is really the result of the successive combustion of particles of oil and the successive extinguishment of such combustion Both this and the previous verse have been rendered inaccurately by K.P. Singha. 1702. Hence the questions of Janaka, asking as to who the lady was or whose, were futile. 1703. The seven ways are as follows: Righteousness and Wealth and Pleasure independently and distinct from one another count three, then the first and second, the first and third, and second and third, count three and lastly, all three existing together. In all acts, one or other of these seven may be found. The first and second exist in all acts whose result is the righteous acquisition of wealth; the first and third exist in the procreation of children in lawful wedlock; the second and third in ordinary acts of worldly men. Of acts in which all three combine, the rearing of children may be noticed, for it is at once a duty, a source of wealth, and a pleasure. K.P. Singha omits all reference to these seven ways, while the Burdwan translator, misunderstanding the gloss, makes utter nonsense of it. 1704. The king may order some men to do some things. These men, after obeying those orders, return to him to report the fact of what they have accomplished. The king is obliged to grant them interviews for listening to them. 1705. The commentator explains that the three others are Vriddhi, Kshaya, and Sthana, all of which arise from policy. Some of the seven limbs are inanimate, such as the treasury. But it is said that the treasury supports the ministers, and the ministers support the treasury. 1706. Hence, when every kingdom has a king, and kings too are many, no one should indulge in pride at the thought of his being a king. 1707. The object of this verse is to show that as Janaka rules his kingdom without being attached to it, he cannot lay claim to the merit that belongs to kings. 1708. Upaya or means implies here the attitude of sitting (as in Yoga). Upanishad or method implies sravana and manana i.e., listening and thinking. Upasanga or practices imply the several limbs of Dhyana, etc. Nischaya or conclusion has reference to Brahma. 1709. I expand this verse fully. 1710. The na in the second line is connected with Vyayachcchate. 1711. The object of this verse is to show that the words uttered by Sulabha were unanswerable. To attain to Emancipation one must practise a life of Renunciation instead of continuing in the domestic mode. 1712. These foes are, of course, the passions. 1713. Literally, the world is only a hold of action, implying that creatures, coming here, have to act: these actions lead to rewards and punishments, both here and hereafter. The way to Emancipation is, as has been often shown before, by exhausting the consequences of acts by enjoyment or sufferance and by abstaining from further acts by adopting the religion of Nivritti. 1714. Kulapatam is explained by the commentator as Mahanadipuram. In Naram etc, venumivodahritam (as in the Bombay text) or venumivoddhhatam (as in the Bengal text) is rather unintelligible unless it be taken in the sense in which I have taken it. K. P. Singha mistranslates Kulapatam, and the Burdwan translator misunderstands both Kulaparam and venumivoddhatam. 1715. i.e., to uphold it by doing the duties of a Brahmanas. 1716. Prachalita-dharma etc, implies those that have fallen away from righteousness. The Burdwan translator misunderstands the verse. Karanabhih is kriabhih. 1717. The Commentator explains that this verse is for assuring Yudhishthira that kings are competent to obtain felicity in the next world. Anupagatam is explained by the Commentator as not attainable in even thousands of births. 1718. Rudhirapah is blood-sucking worms. Uparatam is dead. 1719. The ten boundaries or commandments, as mentioned by the Commentator, are the five positive ones, viz., Purity, Contentment, Penances, Study of the Vedas, Meditation on God, and the five negative ones, viz., abstention from cruelty, from untruth, from theft, from non-observance of vows, and from acquisition of wealth. 1720. Chirasya is grammatically connected with na vudhyase, meaning 'that thou art always blind etc.' The Burdwan translator misunderstands it completely and takes it as equivalent to achirena. K. P. Singha skips over it. 1721. The Burdwan translator gives a ridiculous version of the verse. 1722. Kevalam nidhim is literally, 'one's only treasure'. It may imply either Samadhi or Brahma. Acts, whether good or bad, all arise from error. Abstention from acts is the true way to Emancipation. 1723. The passions are spoken of as wolves. 1724. The sight of golden trees is a premonitory sign of Death. 1725. Literally rendered, the verse would run thus: Before the cooking is complete of the Yavaka of a rich man, in fact, while it is still uncooked, thou mayst meet with death. Do thou, therefore, hasten. By Yavaka is meant a particular kind of food made of ghee and flour or barley. 1726. In verse 53 it is said that the Soul is the witness in the other world of all acts and omission in this life. In verse 54, what is said is that the existence of the Soul when the body is not, is possible, for Yogins, in Yoga, live in their Soul, unconscious the while of their bodies. The entrance of the acting-Chaitanya into that Chaitanya which survives as the witness means the death of the body. 1727. The Burdwan translator gives an erroneous version of this verse. 1728. I think the sense is that only righteousness can bring a man to the path that leads to happiness and not mere instructions howsoever repeated. 1729. The Commentator explains that Pramadagah is equivalent to Pramadagrihavasin and refers to Antakah. Chamum is Indriyasenam. Grahitam is body. Yathagrahitam is dehamanatikramya. In this verse pura may mean either in the near future or soon, or pura may mean before, i.e., before the Destroyer makes thy senses so, etc. 1730. The road in which thyself shalt be in front and thyself in the rear is the road of Self-knowledge. The Burdwan translator does not understand how the first line comes to mean Knowledge of Self! Accordingly, though he uses the word amajnana (following the Commentator), yet he erroneously repeats some of the words used in the line. 1731. The last word of the second line is muchyate and not yujyate. If yujyate be adhered to, meaning would be 'freed the consequences of ignorance and error, he would succeed in attaining to Brahma.' 1732. This is a very abstruse verse. I have rendered it, following the lead of the Commentator, Srutam, he explains it 'the knowledge, born of vedic declarations like Tattwamasi etc.' Sarvamasnute is equivalent to samastam Brahmandam vyapnoti, meaning such knowledge leads to sarvatmyam, i.e., omniscience Tadetat etc., i.e., that omniscience is the darsanam, of parampurushartha or Moksha. Kritajna upadishtam artham is Samhitam. 1733. The sense is that in course of our repeated rebirths we have got these relations repeatedly and will get them as repeatedly. But we are, in reality, quite unconnected with them. Their union with us like the union of pieces of wood floating in a river, now joined together temporarily, now separated. 1734. Mokshadaisikam is explained by the commentator as Mokshandeshataram. K. P. Singha wrongly renders this word. This section is called pavakadhyayanam, meaning chitta-sodhakadhyayanam, that is, the lesson which, when read and mastered, is to lead to the cleansing of the heart. 1735. Time, as a personified agent, is throwing all creatures at unequal distances. Some are thrown near and some to a great distance. These distances are regulated by the nature of the acts done by the creatures thrown. Some are cast among animals, some among men. Throwing or hurling them thus, Time drags them again, the binding-cords being always in his hands. 1736. Both the vernacular translators have misunderstood the first line of this verse although there is no difficulty in it. Apastamva says drishto dharma-vyatikrama; Sahasancha purvesham. What Bhishma says here is that one should not speak of those instances of Vyatikramah and Sahasam. 1737. Although the Vedas came to Suka of their own accord, yet he was in deference to the universal custom, obliged to formally acquire them from a preceptor. 1738. Vyasa was the priest or Ritwija of the house of Mithila and as such the kings of Mithila were his Yajyas or Yajamanas. The duty of a Yajamana is to reverence every member of the priest's family. The sire, therefore, cautions the son that he should not, while living with the king of Mithila, assert his superiority over him in any respect. 1739. It is certain that one must abandon all acts before one can attain to Emancipation. But then acts should not be cast off all at once. It is according to this order that they should be abandoned, i.e., in the order of the several modes. 1740. The karanas are the inner faculties. 1741. i.e., when Emancipation and omniscience have been attained in the very first mode of life, no further need exists for conforming to the three other modes of life. 1742. i.e., behold the Supreme Soul by his own Soul. 1743. Instead of papakam some texts read pavakam, meaning of the nature of fire. 1744. After manasa, saha is understood. It does not mean that the senses are to be restrained by the mind, but the words imply that the mind and the senses are to be restrained. K. P. Singha renders the line correctly. The Burdwan translator, as usual, is careless. 1745. K. P. Singha skips over this verse. 1746. i.e., he turned his soul's gaze on his soul and withdrew himself from every worldly object. 1747. He no longer walked like ordinary men. Without trailing along the solid support of the Earth, he proceeded through the sky. 1748. Popularly, Bhimaraja, the Lanius Malabaricus. 1749. It is believed that a person, by performing austere penances, scorches the three worlds. It is in consequence of this effect of penances that the superior deities were always compelled by the Asuras and Danavas to grant them whatever boons they solicited. 1750. The sense is that if the Vedas are not constantly studied, they are likely to be forgotten. 1751. Upaplava is Rahu or the ascending node. In many parts of Upper India, during the hot months in particular, large quantities of dust are raised by whirl winds in the afternoon or at evening called Andhi the clouds of dust cover the moon for hours together. 1752. The lowest order of men, living by slaying animals. 1753. The verse in the Bengal texts is a triplet. In the Bombay edition, the third line is excluded from verse 36. There is no inconvenience in this, only, it should be construed as referring to the wind called Samana or Pravaha. 1754. Some texts read Jaytamvarah. If this be accepted, it should be an adjective of Parivaha, meaning the foremost of all in the strength or energy. 1755. The sacred river Ganga has it is said, three courses or streams. One flows on the surface of the Earth, the second flows through the nether regions, and the third flows through heaven. 1756. The first line runs into the second. 1757. Penances should be protected from wrath. By penances one attains to great power. The ascetic's puissance frequently equals that of Brahman himself. If, however, the ascetic indulges in wrath and curses one from wrath, his puissance becomes diminished. For this reason, forgiveness is said to be the highest virtue a Brahmana can practise. A Brahmana's might lay in forgiveness. Knowledge also should be protected from honour and dishonour, i.e. one should never _receive_ honour for his knowledge, that is, do anything for the object of achieving honour. Similarly, one should never do anything which may have the effect of dishonouring one's knowledge. These are some of the highest duties preached in scriptures. 1758. The saying Satyadapi hitam vadet is frequently misunderstood. The scriptures do not say that truth should be sacrificed in view of what is beneficial, for such view will militate with the saying that there is nothing higher than truth. The saying has reference to those exceptional instances where truth becomes a source of positive harm. The story of the Rishi who spoke the truth respecting the place where certain travellers lay concealed, when questioned by certain robbers who were for killing the travellers, is an instance to the point. The goldsmith's son who died with a falsehood on his lips for allowing his lawful prince to escape from the hands of his pursuers did a meritorious act of loyalty. Then, again, the germ of the utilitarian theory may be detected in the second line of this verse. 1759. To conquer the unconquerable means to attain to Brahma. 1760. In the Srutis, Paravara is an equivalent for the Supreme Soul. The correct reading is nasyati at the end of the first line, and not pasyati as in some of the Bengal texts. Adhering to pasyati (which gives no meaning), the Burdwan translator gives a ridiculous and unmeaning version of this verse. K. P. Singha, of course, adopts the correct reading. 1761. This verse is not at all difficult. The sense is that the man who transcends all attachments never comes to grief if brought into union with other creatures. The Burdwan translator gives a thoroughly unmeaning version of this couplet. 1762. The object of this verse is to show that men of knowledge do not perform sacrifices, in which, as a matter of course, a large number of creatures is slain. Men wedded to the religion of Pravriti perform sacrifices. Coming into the world in consequence of past acts, they seek happiness (by repairing to heaven) along the way of sacrifices and religious rites. A large number of creatures is slain, for besides the victims ostensibly offered, an infinite number of smaller and minuter creatures are killed in the sacrificial fires and in course of the other preparations that are made in sacrifices. 1763. Sorrow increases by indulgence. 1764. This is a very doubtful verse. The commentator is silent. I follow the meaning as it lies on the surface. The object of the verse seems to be this: there are men that are employed in reflecting upon the nature of things: these should know that such occupation is useless, for truly the nature of things is beyond the grasp of the mind. The greatest philosopher is ignorant of all the virtues of a blade of grass, the purpose for which it exists, the changes that it undergoes every instant of time and from day to day. Those men, however, who have such unprofitable occupation for walking along the highest path (the path, that is, which leads to Brahma) free themselves from grief. 1765. I am not sure that I have understood this verse correctly. 1766. What is intended to be said is that the gratification of the senses leaves nothing behind. The pleasure lasts as long as the contact continues of the objects with the senses. The Burdwan translator, not suspecting that the word used is adhana, gives a ridiculous version. 1767. What is said here is this: a man has spouses and children, or wealth, etc.: there was no sorrow when these were not: with his union with these his sorrow commences. Hence, when these things disappear, an intelligent man should not indulge in any sorrow. Bonds or attachments are always productive of grief. When bonds are severed or destroyed, there ought to be no grief. 1768. i.e., whose pleasures do not depend upon external objects such as spouses and children. 1769. Vidhitsabhih is pipasabhih. It comes from dhe meaning drinking. 1770. Vyasa lived in northern India and was evidently unacquainted with the tides that appear in the Bengal rivers. 1771. The object of this verse is to show the utility and necessity of acts. Without acting no one, however clever, can earn any fruit. Both the vernacular translators give ridiculous versions of this plain aphorism. 1772. Asi is used in the sense of akansha. 1773. Naprapyanadhigachchati is na aprayam etc. 1774. I do not quite understand in what the fault lies that is referred to here. Perhaps the sense is this. In Hindu philosophy, the vital seed is said to be generated by the sight of a desirable woman. When sexual congress takes place with one whose sight has not originated the vital seed but with another it fails to be productive. Whoever indulges in such intercourse is to blame. 1775. Parasarirani has prapnuvanti understood after it. Chinnavijam means whose seed has broken, that is the creature whose gross body has met with destruction. The gross body is called the Vijam or seed of (heaven and hell). The sense of the verse is that every one, after death, attains to a new body. A creature can never exist without the bonds of body being attached to him. Of course, the case is otherwise with persons who succeed in achieving their Emancipation by the destruction of all acts. The Burdwan translator, following the commentator faithfully, renders this verse correctly. K. P. Singha skips over it entirely. 1776. This is not a difficult verse. Then, again, the commentator explains it carefully. K. P. Singha gives a ridiculous version. The Burdwan translator is correct. Nirddagdham and vinasyantam imply the dying or dead. Jivar paradeham chalachalam ahitam bhavati means another body, as much subject to destruction, is kept ready. 1777. I expand this verse a little for bringing out its meaning. What is said here is that some come out of the womb alive; some die there before being quickened with life, the reason being that their acts of past lives bring for them other bodies even at that stage. 1778. This verse is certainly a 'crux.' The commentator, I think, displays considerable ingenuity in explaining it. The order of the words is Gatayushah tasya sahajatasya pancha saptamim navamim dasam prapnuvanti; tatah na bhavanti; sa na. The ten stages of a person's life are (1) residence within the womb, (2) birth, (3) infancy, up to 5 years, (4) childhood, up to 12 years, (5) Pauganda up to 16 years, (6) youth, up to 48 years, (7) old age, (8) decrepitude, (9) suspension of breath, (10) destruction of body. 1779. Niyuktah means employed. I take it to imply employed in the task of conquering Nature. It may also mean, set to their usual tasks by the influence of past acts. Nature here means, of course the grand laws to which human existence is subject, viz., the law of birth, of death, of disease and decrepitude etc. 1780. Uparyupari implies gradual superiority. If one becomes wealthy, one desires to be a councillor; if a councillor, one wishes to be prime minister; and so on. The sense of the verse is that man's desire to rise is insatiable. 1781. The reading I prefer is asathah and not sathah. If the latter reading be kept, it would mean of both descriptions are seen to pay court to the wicked. 1782. Avavandhah is low attachments, implying those that appertain to the body. In fact, the acquisition of the body itself is such an attachment. What is said here is that Jiva who has become enlightened becomes freed from the obligation of rebirth or contact with body once more. 1783. The mass of effulgence constituting the Sun is nothing else than Brahma. Brahma is pure effulgence. Savitri-mandala-madhyavartir-Narayanah does not mean a deity with a physical form in the midst of the solar effulgence but incorporeal and universal Brahma. That effulgence is adored in the Gayatri. 1784. The commentator takes Shomah to mean Shomagath Jivah. He does not explain the rest of the verse. The grammatical construction presents no difficulty. If Shomah be taken in the sense in which the Commentator explains it, the meaning would be this. He who enters the solar effulgence has not to undergo any change, unlike Shomah and the deities who have to undergo changes, for they fall down upon the exhaustion of their merit and re-ascend when they once more acquire merit. Both the vernacular translators have made a mess of the verse. The fact is, there are two paths, archiradi-margah and dhumadi-margah. They who go by the former, reach Brahma and have never to return. While they who go by the latter way, enjoy felicity for some time and then come back. 1785. Here, the words Sun and Moon are indicative of the two different paths mentioned in the note immediately before. 1786. What Suka says here is that he would attain to universal Brahma and thus identify himself with all things. 1787. Jahasa hasam is an instance in Sanskrit of the cognate government of neuter verbs. 1788. The Rishis knew that the height of the atmosphere is not interminable. 1789. In this Section, Bhishma recites to Yudhishthira the fact of Suka's departure from this world, and Vyasa's grief at that occurrence. He speaks of the fact as one that had been related to him bygone times by both Narada and Vyasa himself. It is evident from this that the Suka who recited the Srimad Bhagavat to Parikshit, the grandson of Arjuna, could not possibly be the Suka who was Vyasa's son. 1790. What Bhishma says here is that without faith this subject is incapable of being understood. 1791. This is a triplet. The last word of the third line, viz., Swayambhuvah refers to Krishnah, but it has no special meaning. It is an adjective used more for the sake of measure than for anything else. 1792. The golden cars referred to here are the fleshly bodies of the two deities. The body is called the car because like the car, it is propelled by some force other than the Soul which owns it for a time, the Soul being inactive. It is regarded as golden because every one becomes attached to it as something very valuable. The eight wheels are Avidya and the rest. 1793. i.e., the hands, the feet, the stomach, and the organ of pleasure. The hands are said to be protected when they are restrained from the commission of all improper acts; the feet are said to be duly protected when they are restrained from touching all improper places. The stomach is said to be protected when one never takes any kind of improper food, and when one abstains from all evil acts for appeasing one's hunger. And lastly, one is said to restrain the organ of pleasure when one abstains from all acts of improper congress. 1794. The word Mushka as ordinarily understood, implies the scrotum or testes. The commentator Nilakantha supposes that it may stand for the shoulder-knot. He believes that the phrase implies that the people of this island had each four arms. 1795. The Sattwata ritual is explained by the Commentator to mean the Pancharatra ritual. Tachecheshena implies with what remained after Vishnu's worship was over. 1796. i.e., dedicated his possessions to the service of Narayana, and held them as the great God's custodian. In other words, he never regarded his wealth as his own, but was always ready to devote it to all good and pious purposes. 1797. i.e., the treatise those Rishis composed was the foremost of its kind in respect of choice and harmony of vocables, of import or sense and of reasons with which every assertion was fortified. 1798. There are two religions, viz., that of Pravritti, implying act and observances, and that of Nivritti, implying a complete abstention from all acts and observances. The last is also called the religion of Emancipation. 1799. Whether any work on morality and religion was over actually composed by the seven Rishis or not, no such work, it is certain, is in existence now. Besides this mention of the work in the Mahabharata, no reference to it has been made anywhere else. As to Sukra-niti it is extant, Vrihaspati's niti-sastram is defunct. It is probable, however, that before Saba-niti there was an anterior work, brief if not exhaustive on the same subjects. 1800. Paryyaya literally means a list. The fact is, in all Sanskrit lexicons words expressive of the same meanings occur together. These lists are known by the name of Paryyaya. A more definite idea of the meaning of this word may be had by the English reader when he remembers that in a lexicon like Roget's Thesaurus, groups are given of words expressive of the same signification. Such groups are called Paryyayas. 1801. The Hotri has to pour libations on the sacrificial fire, reciting mantras the while. Sadasyas are persons that watch the sacrifice, i.e., take care that the ordinances of the scriptures are duly complied with. They are, what is called, Vidhidarsinas. 1802. Clarified butter offered in sacrifices, with cakes of powdered barley steeped in it. 1803. Professor Weber supposes that in this narrative of the three Rishis Ekata, Dwita, and Trita, the poet is giving a description of either Italy or some island in the Mediterranean, and of a Christian worship that certain Hindu pilgrims might have witnessed. Indeed, a writer in the Calcutta Review has gone so far as to say that from what follows, the conjecture would not be a bold one that the whole passage refers to the impression made on certain Hindu pilgrims upon witnessing the celebration of the Eucharist according to the ordinances of the Roman Catholic Church. The Honble K. P. Telang supposes that the whole passage is based on the poets imagination. Ekantabhavepagatah is taken by some to mean worshippers of the divine Unity. I do not think that such a rendering would be correct. 1804. The Bombay reading is tadapratihato abhavat. This seems to be better than the Bengal reading tato-apratihata. If the Bengal reading be adhered to, apratihatah should be taken in the sense of nasti pratihatoyasmat. The meaning, of course, would remain the same. 1805. Yapa means the silent recitation of certain sacred mantras or of the name of some deity. In the case of the inhabitants of White Island, the silent recitation was no recitation of mantras or words, but was a meditation on incorporeal Brahma. The next verse makes this clear. 1806. This would seem to show that it was the Roman Republic which the pilgrims saw. 1807. Professor Weber thinks that this has reference to the absence of idols or images. The pilgrims saw no deities there such as they had in their own temples. 1808. Professor Weber wrongly renders the words Purvaja and sikshaksharaiamanwitah. The first word does not, as he renders it, imply, eldest son of God, but simply first-born. It is seen in almost every hymn in the Mahabharata to the Supreme Deity. It is synonymous with Adipurusha. Then siksha etc. does not, as he thinks, mean 'accompanied by teaching,' but it is the science of Orthoepy and is one of the Angas (limbs) of the Vedas. The Vedas were always chanted melodiously, the science of Orthoepy was cultivated by the Rishis with great care. 1809. The Pancha-kala, or Pancha-ratra, or Sattwatas vidhi, means certain ordinances laid down by Narada and other Rishis in respect of the worship of Narayana. 1810. The sense is this: as all of them were practising that frame of mind which resembles Brahma, they did not regard us, i.e., neither honoured nor dishonoured us. 1811. Both the vernacular translators have erred in rendering this simple verse. 1812. The construction seems to be this: Parangatimanuprapta iti Brahmanah samanantaram naishthikam sthanam, etc. It does not mean, as K. P. Singha puts it, that he proceeded to Brahman's region, nor, as the Burdwan translator puts it, that having gone to Brahman's region he attained to the highest end. The sense, on the other hand, is that as his was the very highest end, he, therefore, ascended to a spot that is higher than Brahman's region. The simple meaning is that king Uparichara attained to identification with Brahma. 1813. i.e., when they have cursed thee, their curse should fructify. Thou shouldst not do anything that may have the effect of nullifying that curse. 1814. To this day, in many religious rites, these streaks of ghee are poured with mantras recited the while. They are called Vasudhara and are poured along the surface of a wall. First, a waving line of red is drawn horizontally on the wall. Then seven spots are made under that line. Then with the sacrificial ladle, Ghee is poured from each of the spots in such a way that a thick streak is poured along the wall. The length of those streaks is generally 3 to 4 feet and their breadth about half an inch. 1815. The mantras recited by Vasu were Vedic mantras. 1816. The Burdwan translator, as also K. P. Singha, both err in translating the first line of this verse. It does not mean that Narada worshipped them with a bend of his head and that they in return worshipped him mentally. 1817. In the sense of His being unmodified, even as space is an entity that cannot be modified in any way. 1818. i.e., as the commentator expands, who is displayed without any modification, all else being modifications of Thyself. 1819. i.e., from whom speech has flowed, or who is Vrihaspati the celestial priest, so famous for his learning and intelligence. 1820. i.e., the original home of the universe. The idea is that when the universal dissolution comes, all things take refuge in thee. I follow the commentator in all the interpretations he gives. 1821. i.e., who has performed the avabhrita or final bath upon the completion of all vows and observances and sacrifices. 1822. i.e., thou hast performed sacrifices. 1823. The Vedas have six limbs or divisions. 1824. Pragjyotish is the name of a particular Saman. The Rich beginning with Murdhanam etc. when sung, comes to be called by the name of jeshtha Saman. What is said here, therefore, is that thou art both the foremost of Samanas and he that sings that Saman. 1825. In the Bombay text, the reading for Vainagarbha is Vaikhanasa which means a class or sect of ascetics. 1826. The commentator explains that by Mahayajna--great sacrifice--is meant Yoga. The Jiva-Soul is like the libation poured in the sacrifice, for by Yoga the Jiva-Soul is annihilated and merged into the Supreme Soul. 1827. In treatises on the Smriti, the indications of these three kinds or degrees of modifications are given. 1828. By this word is meant a particular conjunction of heavenly bodies. This conjunction is represented as having a peculiar form. 1829. The word Upanaha used here in the dual number, has puzzled many persons. It is difficult to conceive why the great God should appear with a pair of shoes in one of his hands. Probably, the Upanaha, in ancient times, was a wooden sandal, and what the poet means to say is that Narayana, appeared with all the requisites of a Brahmacharin on his person. 1830. i.e., merges into. 1831. This cosmogony is agreeable to the Vaishnava scriptures. Above all, without beginning is Vasudeva. From Vasudeva is Sankarshana. From Sankarashana is Pradyumna. From Pradyumna is Aniruddha. Some persons find in this quadruple creation the distinct trace of the Christian Trinity. It is very difficult, however, to say which doctrine, the Hindu or the Christian, is the original and which is derived from which. 1832. The reader is requested to mark the address 'king of kings'. This is evidently a slip of the pen. The whole speech is that of Narayana and Narada is the listener. 1833. The commentator is silent. The sense seems to be that as Brahman is to be the son of Narayana in the beginning of a Kalpa when there is no other existent object mobile or immobile, the same Brahman is to be vested with dominion over all things which he would himself create through Ahankara. Of course, as long as Brahman is without Ahankara so long there can be no Creation, i.e., no subjects mobile and immobile, to be known by different names. 1834. Nityada is always. Some persons believe that Narayana has to manifest himself always for achieving the business of the deities. This Earth is not the only world where such manifestations needed. As to the object of the manifestations considerable difference of opinion prevails. In the Gita, the great deity himself explains that that object is to rescue the good and destroy the wicked. Others hold that this is only a secondary object, the primary one being to gladden the hearts of the devout by affording them opportunities of worshipping him and applauding his acts, and to indulge in new joys by serving his own worshippers. 1835. This is a reference to the well-known description of Narayana as Savitrimandalamadhyavartih etc. It is not the visible Sun whose disc is meant, but that pure fountain of effulgence which is inconceivable for its dazzling brightness that is implied. 1836. The tense used in the original is future. What is meant, however, is that the great deity does these acts at the beginning of every Kalpa when he recreates the Earth. All cycles or Kalpas are similar in respect of the incidents that occur in them. 1837. Maheswara is Mahadeva or Siva, Mahasena is Kartikeya, the generalissimo of the celestial forces. 1838. Vana, the son of Vali, was a devout worshipper of Mahadeva. Mina's daughter Usha fell in love with Krishna's grandson Aniruddha. Aniruddha was imprisoned by Vana. It was to rescue Aniruddha that Krishna fought with Vana, after having vanquished both Mahadeva and Kartikeya. The thousand and one arms of Vana, less two, were lopped off by Krishna. The episode of the love of Aniruddha and Usha is a very beautiful one. 1839. Saubha was the name of a flying city of the Danavas. Krishna felled this city into the ocean, having killed all its Danava inhabitants. As to Kala-yavana, his death was brought about by Krishna under the following circumstances. Pursued by the Danava, Krishna took refuge in a mountain-cave in which a king of the Satya Yuga was lying asleep. Entering the cave, Krishna stood at the head of the sleeping king. The Danava, entering the cave after Krishna, found the sleeping king and awaked him. As soon as the king looked at the Danava, the latter was consumed into ashes, for the gods had given a boon to the king that he who would awake him would be consumed by a glance of his. 1840. The idea of Eternity without any conceivable beginning and conceivable end was so thoroughly realised by the Hindu sages that the chiefdom of Heaven itself was to them the concern of a moment. Nothing less than unchangeable felicity for all times was the object they pursued. All other things and states being mutable, and only Brahman being immutable, what they sought was an identification with Brahma. Such identification with the Supreme Soul was the Emancipation they sought. No other religion has ever been able to preach such a high ideal. The Hindu's concern is with Eternity. He regards his existence here as having the duration of but the millionth part of a moment. How to prevent re-birth and attain to an identification with the Supreme Soul is the object of his pursuit. 1841. K. P. Singha has completely misunderstood the sense of verse 113, Bhishma does not certainly mean that Brahman was unacquainted with the narrative. What Bhishma says is that it was not to Brahman, but to the Siddhas assembled in Brahman's abode, that Narada recited his narrative. 1842. K. P. Singha misunderstands verses 115 and 116 completely. The fact is, Surya recited the narrative unto those that precede and those that follow him in his journey through the firmament. K. P. Singha confounded the two classes of persons together. The Burdwan translator, as usual, makes nonsense of verse 116. The correct reading (as given in the Bombay text) is lokan, the grammatical construction being lokan tapatah suryasya etc. The Burdwan translator makes Surya repeat the narrative to the worlds created and placed before Surya. 1843. The drift of Saunaka's queries seems to be this the religion of Pravritti is opposed to that of Nivritti. How is it that both have been created by the same Narayana. How is it that he has made some with dispositions to follow the one, and others with dispositions to follow the others. 1844. Atmanah parinirmitam pralayam means that destruction or cessation of existences which is brought about by self-realization. What the king says here is,--If the religion of Nivritti be so superior in consequence of its superior end, why is it that the deities who are all superior to us did not pursue it? Were they ignorant of the method by which Emancipation is attainable? Were they ignorant of the means by which to win cessation of existence? K. P. Singha renders the verse correctly. The Burdwan translator misunderstands it although he repeats the exact words of the second foot of the second line. 1845. That is, the attributes of vision to Light, taste to Water, sound to Space, touch to Wind, and smell to Earth. 1846. Avritti lakshanam means that the reward to be bestowed shall not be Emancipation whence there is no return, but such reward (as the felicity of heaven) whence there will be a return for each of the receivers. 1847. Taking their rise from the fruits of Pravritti implies having their origin in their desire for such fruits as appertain to the religion of Pravritti or acts. 1848. What is stated here is that creature following the path of Pravritti cannot hope to reach the spot whence there is no return. It is by the path of Nivritti that spot is capable of being reached. The path of Pravritti is always fraught with return. One may become, by walking along that path the very chief of the celestials, but that status is not eternal. Since the beginning (if a beginning can be conceived), millions and millions of Indras have arisen and fallen down. 1849. Literally, with their four quarters entire. 1850. This salutation of Krishna unto the Supreme Soul is very characteristic. He salutes himself by saluting the Supreme Soul. 1851. Sattwa is the attribute of righteousness. It is said to consist of eight and ten qualities. The commentator mentions them all. 1852. i.e., Emancipation or complete identification with the Supreme Soul. 1853. The object of this verse, the commentator says, is to explain the meaning of the word Hrishikesa. Agni is the digestive fire, and Shoma is food. Uniting together, Agni and Shoma, therefore uphold the universe. In the form of digestive fire and food, Agni and Shoma are two gladdeners of the universe. They are called on this account Hrishi (in the dual number). And since they are, as it were, the kesa or hair of Narayana, therefore is he called Hrishikesa. All these etymologies are very fanciful. Elsewhere the word Hrishikesa is explained as the Isa or lord of Hrishika or the senses. 1854. Sat is existent or aught. Asat is naught or non-existent. Very generally, these two words are used to imply Effects and Causes, the former being gross or manifest, and the latter, subtile or unmanifest. Tamas here does not mean one of the three primal attributes but primeval darkness. Compare Manu, asitidam tamobhutam etc. 1855. I do not know whether I have understood correctly the last part of this sentence. I think what is stated is that by honouring Hari and Mantra, one honours the deities and men and the Rishis. By men, I think, dead men or the Pitris are referred to. 1856. The reading vagamritam is an error. The correct reading is gavamritam. 1857. In former times kings and chiefs always used to assign rent-free lands to learned Brahmanas for their support. Those countries where Brahmanas had not such lands assigned to them, were, as it were, under a ban. What is said in this verse is that in such countries the blessings of peace are wanting. The inhabitants are borne on vehicles drawn by oxen on steeds. 1858. In consequence of this third eye on Rudra's forehead, he came to be called by the name of Virupaksha or the ugly or fierce-eyed. 1859. A Manwantarah consists of about 72 Chaturyugas, i.e., 288 yugas according to the measurement of the celestials. The present yuga is called the Vaivaswat Manwantarah, i.e., the period connected with Manu the son of Vivaswat. At each Manwantorah a new Manu appears. The self-born Manu was a different person. 1860. By practising Yoga one acquires certain superhuman powers. These are called Yogaiswaryya. They include Anima, by which one can become very minute; Laghima, by which one can become very gross, etc. 1861. The river Ganga has three currents. One flows through heaven, one is visible on the Earth, and a third flows through the nether regions. Persons of the regenerate classes, when saying their morning, midday, or evening prayers, have to touch water often. What is meant, therefore, by 'Bharadwaja touching the water' is that Bharadwaja was saying his prayers. Vishnu assumed his three-footed form for beguiling Vali of the sovereignty of the universe. With one foot he covered the Earth, with another he covered the firmament. There was no space left for placing his third foot upon. 1862. The Sreevatsa is a beautiful whirl on Vishnu's bosom. 1863. The Hindu scriptures mention that there is an Equine-head of vast proportions which roves through the seas. Blazing fires constantly issue from its mouth and these drink up the sea-water. It always makes a roaring noise. It is called Vadava-mukha. The fire issuing from it is called Vadavanala. The waters of the Ocean are like clarified butter. The Equine-head drinks them up as the sacrificial fire drinks the libations of clarified butter poured upon it. The origin of the Vadava fire is sometimes ascribed to the wrath of Urva, a Rishi of the race of Jamadagni. Hence it is sometimes called Aurvya-fire. 1864. The etymology of the word Hrishikesa is thus explained. Agni and Shoma are called by the name of 'Hrishi' in the dual number. He is called Hrishikesa who has those two for his kesa or hair. Elsewhere, the word is explained as the Isa or lord of Hrishika. 1865. I am the Soul of all creatures, and, therefore, unborn, the Soul being Eternal, Unbeginning and Unending. Hence am I called the Unborn. 1866. The race in which Krishna took birth was known by the name of Sattwata. All these etymologies are, of course, exceedingly fanciful. Not that the etymologies do not correspond with the rules of Sanskrit Grammar, but that they are not accepted by lexicographers. The fact is that each root in Sanskrit has a variety of meanings. 1867. This verse refers to Panchikarana. The fact is, Earth, Water, Light, Wind and Space are the five primal elements. Each of these is divided into five portions and the portions so arrived at are then united or mingled together forming the different substances of the universe, the proportions in which they are mingled being unequal. 1868. Achyuta has been variously rendered into English. Its true sense is here explained. Unswerving is the meaning. He who never swerves (from his highest nature or Brahma) is Achyuta. Hence, ordinarily, immutable or undeteriorating is the rendering that I have adopted. 1869. Clarified butter is the great sustainer of the universe, for the libations poured on the sacrificial fire uphold the deities, and the deities, thus upheld, pour rain which causes crops and other food to grow, upon which, of course, the universe of living creatures live. 1870. The constituent elements, called Dhatu, of the body, are, of course Bile, Phlegm and Wind. They are due to actions because birth itself is due to actions. There can be no birth without a body, and no body without these three. Hence, these three have their origin in previous actions un-exhausted by enjoyment or endurance. 1871. Narayana is said to always dwell in the midst of Savitri-mandala. The solar disc represents eternal effulgence, or Milton's 'flaming amount' at which even the highest angels cannot gaze. 1872. Durlabha may also mean not easily attainable: i.e., they that are my devoted worshippers are as unattainable as I myself. People cannot readily obtain their grace as they cannot mine. 1873. The Yajur-Veda consists, according to this calculation, of one hundred and one branches. 1874. The Krityas are acts of incantation, performed with the aid of Atharvan Mantras. They are of great efficacy. Brahmanas conversant with the Atharvans are competent, with the aid of Krityas to alter the laws of Nature and confound the very universe. 1875. The path pointed out by Varna is the path of Dhyana or contemplation. Vama is Mahadeva or Rudra. Panchala is Galava of the Vabhravya race. The Burdwan translator makes a mess of these verses. He represents Galava as belonging to the Kundarika race. The fact is, as the Commentator explains, that Kundarika is a name derived from that of the Gotra or race to which the person belonged, Panchala is the same person as Galava of the Vabhravya race. 1876. Elsewhere it is said that Narayana took birth in Dharma's house in four forms named Nara, Narayana, Krishna, and Hari. Dharmayanam samarudau means riding on the Dharma-car, i.e., endued with bodies with which to perform all the scriptural duties. 1877. Munja literally means green, or a grass of particular kind. 1878. Nara and Narayana were the same person. Hence, Nara's weapon having been broken into pieces, Narayana came to be called by this name. Elsewhere it is explained that Mahadeva is called Khandaparasu in consequence of his having parted with his parasu (battle-axe) unto Rama of Bhrigu's race. 1879. He has been pleased to assume the forms of Rishis Nara and Narayana. 1880. i.e., he that was speaking to Arjuna. 1881. Kala is literally Time or Eternity. It frequently means, however, death or destruction, or he that brings about death or destruction. 1882. The sense is that Arjuna was only the ostensible instrument. 1883. The questions of Janamejaya, it would seem, were addressed to Vyasa. All the editions, however, make Vaisampayana answer those questions. 1884. It is difficult to say what this word means. I think with the commentator that it means shoulder joints. 1885. The Bengal reading is ashta-bhujau. The Bombay reading ashta-dangshtrau does not seem to be correct. By accepting the Bengal reading, the word mushka becomes clear. 1886. Avyagran means with tranquil souls. It is said that with most young men what occurs is that their hearts at first leave them when they see a respected guest arrived who is to be received with due honours. A little while after, they get back their hearts. In the Nara and Narayana, however, nothing of this kind happened when they saw Narada first, although Narada was one to whom their reverence was due. 1887. Nara and Narayana are the displayed forms of the undisplayed Hari. 1888. cf. Milton's description of the mount of God. The highest angels are not competent to bear its effulgence, being obliged to cover their eyes with their wings in looking at it. 1889. Prithivi or Earth is said to be sarvamsaha. As forgiving as the Earth is a common form of expression in almost every Indian dialect. 1890. By Sat is meant all existent things. The correlative word is Asat or non-existent. Hence, aught and naught are the nearest approaches to these words. There are many secondary significations, however of these two words, Sat, for example, indicates effects or all gross objects; and asat indicates causes, etc. 1891. The story is that once on a time the deities, on the eve of going out on a campaign against the Asuras, communicated the Vedas unto their children, Agnishatta and others. In consequence, however, of the length of time for which they were occupied on the field, they forgot their Vedas. Returning to heaven, they had actually to re-acquire them from their own children and disciples. The Scriptures declare that the preceptor is ever the sire, and the disciple is the son. Difference of age would not disturb the relationship. A youth of sixteen might thus be the father of an octogenarian. With Brahmanas, reverence is due to knowledge, not age. 1892. The Hari-Gita is the Bhagavad-Gita. It is sometimes called also Narayana-Gita. 1893. It is not clear who is the Guru referred to in this verse. The commentator thinks that it is Vrihaspati, the preceptor of the celestials. The celestial preceptor never came to the Pandavas. It is probable that either Vyasa or Vaisampayana is meant. 1894. In these verses, it is to Vasudeva that the speaker is referring. The witness of the worlds means that he has witnessed innumerable Creation and Destructions and will witness them through eternity. 1895. This speech is really that of Saunaka. Some incorrect texts represent it as the speech of Janamejaya. The following speech is that of Sauti, though the texts alluded to above make it that of Vaisampayana. It is true in the speech the vocative 'Brahman' occurs, but we may easily take it as a slip of this pen. K. P. Singha makes the correction. The Burdwan translator, without perceiving the absurdity, adheres to the incorrect texts. 1896. It is difficult to settle the reading of this verse. The Bengal texts have alayah, the Bombay edition has alayam. At any rate, verse 58 seems to contradict the previous verse. If after resorting the Vedas to Brahmana, Narayana to his own nature, where would his form be that had the horse-head? 1897. Both the Vernacular translators give ridiculous versions of this verse. K. P. Singha takes Panchala to be a king and understands the verse to mean that king Panchala got back his kingdom through the grace of Narayana. The Burdwan translator errors as usual, by taking krama to imply gati or end. The fact is this verse repeats what has been already said in verses 100 to 102 of section 343 ante. Krama means the science by whose aid the words used in the Vedas are separated from each other. 1898. 'Those who have burnt of their fuel' means men that have freed themselves from desire. Param paryyagati means knowledge as handed down from preceptor to preceptor. 1899. Vasudeva is called the Fourth because below Him is Sankarshana, Pradyumna, and Aniruddha. 1900. What is stated in these two verses is the difference between the ends of those that rely on Knowledge, and those that are devoted to Narayana with their whole souls. The former attain to Vasudeva, it is true, but then they have to pass gradually through the three others one after another, viz., Aniruddha, Pradyumna, and Sankarshana. The latter, however, at once attain to Vasudeva. It is curious to note how the Burdwan translator, with the commentary before him and from which he quotes, misunderstands the second verse completely. K. P. Singha's version also is not clear though not incorrect. 1901. The word Ekantin is explained by the commentator to mean a nishkama worshipper, i.e., one who adores the Supreme Deity without the expectation of any fruit whatever. There can be no error, however in rendering it as one devoted with his whole soul. Such devotion verily implies nishkama worship. 1902. i.e., all creatures were righteous and compassionate. Of evil, there was nothing in that age. 1903. One of the foremost of Samans is called by the name of Jeshthya. One conversant with the Jeshthya Saman would have this name. 1904. Ikshaku was the progenitor of the solar race of kings. 1905. This desire, of course, relates to the acquisition of Emancipation. Yoga-kshema literally means the acquisition of what is desired and the protection of what has been acquired. 1906. Buddha or Pratibuddha literally implies _awakened_. The sense, of course, is that such a person has succeeded in casting off all impurities and desires. He has, as it were been awakened from the slumber of ignorance or darkness. 1907. Those that follow the religion of Pravritti acquire heaven, etc., through their merits. Merits however, are exhaustible. They have, therefore, to fall down from heaven. The Creator Brahma casts his eye on [(illegible--JBH)] that follow Pravritti. The religion of Nivritti, however, leads to Emancipation. It is Narayana that looks upon men that betake to Nivritti. 1908. What is stated here is this the deities and Rishis are certainly endued with Sattwa. But then that Sattwa is of a great form. Hence, they cannot attain to Emancipation. It is only that Sattwa which is of subtile form that leads to Emancipation. The deities, without being able to attain to Emancipation, remain in a state that is mutable or fraught with change. 1909. That is, the practices which constitute the religion of the Ekantins are not really different for those laid down in the scriptures adverted to above. 1910. Who are the Whites referred to in this place? The commentator explains that the word has reference to persons leading the domestic mode of life. Yatis wear robes that are coloured yellow or yellowish red. Households, however, use cloth that is white. The word may also mean the inhabitants of White Island. 1911. The name Apantara-tamas implies one whose darkness or ignorance has been dispelled. 1912. Vedakhyane Srutih karyya, literally, I think, means thou shouldst turn thy ears to the description of the Vedas, implying that thou shouldst set thyself to a distribution or arrangement of the Vedic hymns and Mantras. 1913. It is difficult to understand what is the precise meaning of the expression twamrite. Literally it means without thee. Whether however, the speaker means that all the princes will meet with destruction except thee or that they will be destroyed without thy being present among them, or that such destruction will overtake them without thyself being the cause of it, it is difficult to determine. 1914. Anyo hanyam chintayati seems to mean that the thoughts of others do not correspond with their act. 1915. It is scarcely necessary to remark that the word nandana means both sons and delighter. The etymological meaning is, of course, delighter. The son or grand-son is so called because of his being a source of delight to the sire or the grandsire with the other members of the family. In verse 58, nandana seems to be used in the sense of delighter. 1916. The commentator explains these verses in this way. So far as ordinary purposes are concerned, both the Sankhyas and Yogins speak of many Purushas. In reality, however, for purposes of the highest truth, there is but one Purusha. I do not see this limitation in the verse itself. The fact is what the commentator says is to be seen in the next Verse. 1917. The abode of thy feet means thy abode. To this day, in mentioning persons that are entitled to reverence, the Hindu speaks of them as the "feet of so and so". 1918. The commentator explains the meanings of the words used in this verse in this way--He is called Purusha, because of the attribute of fulness eternal, because he has neither beginning nor end; immutable, because there is no change in him; undeteriorating, because he has no body that may be subject to decay; immeasurable, because the mind cannot conceive of him in his fulness. 1919. Acts are called seeds. Seeds produce tree. Acts lead to the attainment of bodies. For the production of bodies, therefore, acts operate like seeds. 1920. The sense seems to be this: in the Yoga system He is called the Supreme Soul, for Yogins affirm the existence of two souls, the Jivatman and the Supreme Soul, and assert the superiority of the latter over the former. The Sankhyas regard the Jiva-soul and the Supreme Soul to be one and the same. A third class of men think everything as Soul, there being no difference between the one Soul and the universe displayed in infinitude. 1921. The acting Soul is ensconced in the Linga-sarira with which it becomes now a human being, now a deity, now an animal, etc. given and ten possessions are five pranas, mind, intelligence and ten organs of senses. 1922. Dhaturadyam Vidhanam is supposed by the commentator to imply what is known as Mahat i.e., the existence of Jiva before the consciousness of Ego arises. 1923. Pragvansa is a certain part of the altar. Both the vernacular translators omit the word in their renderings. 1924. This portion does not occur in all the texts. I have thought fit to add it for explaining the connection. Most texts begin abruptly by saying--Yudhishthira said, etc. etc. 1925. The object of the question is to ascertain which is the foremost of all the modes of life. Although Renunciation has been described to be the best of all modes, still the duties of that mode are exceedingly difficult of practice. Hence, Yudhishthira wishes to know if the duties of any other mode can be regarded as superior. 1926. Family customs are always observed with great care. Even when inconsistent with the ordinances of the scriptures, such customs do not lose their binding force. Reprehensible as the sale of a daughter or sister is, the great king Salya, when he bestowed his sister Madri on Pandu, insisted upon taking a sum of money, alleging family custom not only as an excuse but as something that was obligatory. To this day, animals are slain in the sacrifices of many families which follow the Vaishnava faith, the justification being family custom. 1927. The Vedas are, strictly speaking, not scriptures, for they are _heard_ the scriptures being those ordinances that are written down. Of course, the Vedas have been reduced into writing, but for all that, they continue to be called the Srutis, as the Common Law of England, though reduced into writing, is still called the unwritten law etc. etc. 1928. Some texts erroneously read sthitah for sthitim. Eka eva atmani sthitim kartum literally rendered, is to achieve existence in the one soul. This means to realise the union of the Jiva-soul with the 'Supreme Soul.' 'Relying upon the Soul I shall try to exist in the one Soul,' in brief, means, I shall try to unite the Jiva with Supreme Soul. The difference between Kankhami and Ichcchemi is well illustrated by the commentator by referring to the case of the man of weak stomach who craves for food of every kind but who does not wish to actually eat from fear of increasing his illness. 1929. Sattwikani implies the deities and others that are endued with the attribute of Sattwa. Samyujyamanani refers to their births and deaths as deities and men in consequence of the fruits reaped of acts done. Niryyatyamanani is distressed or afflicted in consequence of such birth and deaths. The rows of Yama's standards and flags refer to the diverse diseases that afflict all creatures. 1930. The commentator explains that nityah-salilah means pure as water. I think this is not the sense of the word here. 1931. It is desirable to note that the word atithi which is rendered guest here and elsewhere, means a person who enters without invitation the abode of a householder. Such an individual is adorable. All the deities reside in his person. He is supposed to favour the householder by giving him an opportunity of performing the rites of hospitality. Whatever the respect, however, that is paid to a guest, he cannot expect to be served with food till the householder, has done his best for serving him as sumptuously as his circumstances would permit. Hence, by the time the food is placed before him, the guest becomes very hungry. 1932. Some of the Bengal texts have dwigunam for dwiruna. Less than ten by two is the meaning. 1933. This verse seems to be unintelligible. I think the sense is this. Frugality of fare and observance of vows constitute merit for person of all classes. These imply the restraint of the senses, for if the senses be not restrained, no one can observe vows or practise frugality. There is a connection, thus between the duties of religion and the senses. 1934. Darsana-sravas means one who hears with the eye. The Nagas or snakes are believed to have no ears, but to use their eyes both for seeing and hearing. Who the Nagas of the Mahabharata or the Puranas were, it is difficult to determine. They seem to have been a superior order of beings, having their abode in the nether regions. 1935. The meaning of annyayinah is that we should be followed by others, i.e., we deserve to walk at the head of others. 1936. The Indian bird Chataka has a natural hole on the upper part of its long neck in consequence of which it is seen to always sit with beaks upturned, so that the upper part of the neck keeps the hole covered. The Chataka is incapable of slaking its thirst in a lake or river, for it cannot bend its neck down. Rain water is what it must drink. Its cry is shrill and sharp but not without sweetness. 'Phate-e-ek-jal' is supposed to be the cry uttered by it. When the Chataka cries, the hearers expect rain. Eager expectation with respect to anything is always compared to the Chataka's expectation of rain water. 1937. The Burdwan translator erroneously renders this verse. The commentator explains that hitwa is equivalent to vina and sums up the meaning of the first line in these words, viz., twaddarsanam vina asya kopi vighnomabhut. In the second line, naprayupasate is equal to paritajya na aste. 1938. It is a pity that even such verses have not been rendered correctly by the Burdwan translator. K. P. Singha gives the sense correctly, but the translation is not accurate. 1939. A form of expression meaning that 'we are your slaves'. 1940. Atmanam is Brahma; atmasthah is 'relying in the Soul', i.e., withdrawn from all worldly objects; atmanogatim implies the end of the Jiva-soul, i.e., the Supreme Soul; the last is an adjective of atmanam. 1941. It has been explained in the previous sections that the Unccha vow consists in subsisting on grains picked up from the fields after the corn has been reaped and taken away by the owners. It is a most difficult vow to observe. The merit attaching to it is, therefore, very great. 1942. The formal initiation or diksha is a ceremony of great importance. No sacrifice or vow, no religious rite, can be performed without the diksha. The rite of diksha is performed with the assistance of a preceptor or priest. In leaving the domestic mode for the life of a forest recluse, the diksha is necessary. In following the Unccha vow, this rite is needed. Any religious act performed by one without having undergone the formal diksha, becomes sterile of results. 1943. Bhishma abducted, with the might of his single arms, the three daughters of the king of Kasi, viz., Amva, Amvika, and Amvalika. He wished to marry the princesses to his brother Vichitravirya. The eldest princess, having previously to her abduction selected king Salwa for her lord was let off. When, however, she presented herself before her lover, the latter refused to wed her. She, therefore, applied to Rama for wreaking vengeance on Bhishma whom she regarded as the author of her wrongs. Rama took up her cause and fought with Bhishma, but was obliged to acknowledge defeat at the hands of his antagonist who was his disciple in arms. For fuller particulars, vide Amvopakhyana Parvan in Udyoga Parvan.